Chapter 27
“Aren’t you worried about calling attention to our whereabouts with that?” Chayse asked as the door closed and disappeared with the barest of clicks and Marley called light essence to brighten the tunnel ahead of them.
“Nay, it does not use essence like most weaves.” He motioned for him to follow and stepped forward. “Except within the deepest void, everything has a spark of light. Those sparks of light can be drawn together for a small amount of time, a spark here, a spark there and there you have it, light.”
“Do these tunnels go all the way to the main cavern network?” Chayse hurried to catch up with Marley.
“If you’re the size of a dragonkin or know a weave to make yourself small. Even then you’d have to break the wards but, yes, the tunnels connect to that network.”
Chayse glanced at the tunnels branching off at regular intervals. “How do you know which way to go and which tunnel to take?”
“I haven’t been in this part of the tunnels since Hefldeep saved me from the Academy’s wrath after I left their… employment. But it hasn’t changed. The dust on the floor shows how infrequently it is used.” Marley stopped for a moment, offering Chayse his canteen. “I stayed here with Hefldeep for six months after I left the clans to keep them out of the Academy mess.”
“And now the Academy mess has brought you back to Windy Cove.”
“Perhaps the world had grown too complacent,” Marley said quietly as they trotted along. “Perhaps if they’d been more vigilant here in the Cove and the Al’far in Lowrendal.” He shook his head. “Nope, beating a tree that has already dropped its fruit will not give you dinner.”
The deeper into the tunnel they walked, the quieter they became, until suddenly Chayse exclaimed, pointing down the tunnel, “Whey ho!” A patch of light hung in the distance.
“Should I string my bow?” Chayse asked as they drew close to the entrance.
“You left it lying in the middle of the courtyard. Did you regret it?” Marley countered, letting his backpack slide to the sandy floor.
Chayse frowned, frustrated with Marley’s quick sarcasm. He shot him a sharp look and pulled a bowstring out of a small pouch at his waist. “I meant, will my string become dust under my hand?”
He put the string in the first bow knock and then, bracing the bow with his boot, pulled the string taut and quickly slipped it into the other knock. “I won’t make that mistake again, on my word.”
Although Marley sighed and nodded, he said nothing, and a look of great sorrow momentarily overtook his demeanor. Chayse considered asking him what had brought him such sadness, but decided it took trust to give voice to that kind of memory. Trust that could not be built on an overnight acquaintance. After all, he confided very little of who he was or what he wanted from the runesmith, either.
They left their packs there and moved cautiously forward. Soon they looked out across an open stretch of fine white sand. The sky still hid behind a leaden bank of clouds, threatening to continue the storm Marley started.
To their right, a pier stabbed into the calm bay like a gnarled old finger of bone and stone and at the end of the pier, Hefldeep’s sloop, Dragon’s Spit, sat. There was no cover here for about a half furlong. Chayse stayed in the shadows of the entrance as they looked around. “Do you see any sign of them?”
Markey shook his head, putting his finger to his lips. “Don’t see any signs of Mek or the Dragonkin, but I know I heard something, something that didn’t belong.”
Chayse could barely hear the whisper as the runesmith motioned him farther back into the tunnel.
“Can’t see any footprints leading out to the pier, although it seems the tide recedes with any evidence as we speak. Are you going to use something from your bag o’shine?” Chayse bent low toward Marley’s ear. “One either to expose them or conceal us would be exceedingly interesting.”
“Let’s save the riskiest moves for one of those end-of-the-rope moments. Just keep your blades to the ready and your eyes sharp for now.”
Chase nodded, his hand on the hilt of his short sword. “Do we make for the boat or search for them above?”
“I think we shall have that choice taken from us as soon as we leave the tunnel’s shelter. Leave the packs until we know what we face,” Marley said as he moved back toward the entrance. “To the right, keep to the cliff’s face and watch for signs of our friends.
They dashed out of the tunnel, hugging the cliff wall just as the sun sent watery rays through a break in the dense cloud bank. With Marley in the lead, he felt like he ran in slow motion compared to the boy. Each step, a struggle for momentum. He came to a huffing halt in a stand of sunburst locusts. Chayse, only a step behind, stumbled past before stopping.
“I saw no sign of their passage, but what is sticking in my craw is that I can’t sense the Dragonkin’s essence or any signature of their passage. The essence of this place is changing, the tendrils of twisted Tavir growing. Fed, I fear, on the malice and dark weaving wrought here.” Marley studied Chayse for a moment, unsure of how much and what to request of him. After all, it wasn’t his fight. “Can you shimmy yourself up that tree and have a look around?”
“I saw no signs either, but maybe I will spot something from above.” Chayse adjusted his bow and removed his cloak. He tossed Marley the cloak and jumped for a low branch. With no problem swinging up onto the limb, he quickly disappeared into the profusion of green leaves.
While his young friend scanned for some clue to the whereabouts of their allies, Marley used his other senses to try again to filter through the muddied essence and find that of the dragonkin or Mek.
It wasn’t long before Chayse swung down and dropped next to Marley. “Could see some smoke tendrils coming from back in the town. But except for more of those strange mice and squirrel-like creatures, I saw nothing on the beach or cliff top. But it looked like there was movement, a flash of light or something, on the sloop. I couldn’t tell what. I just caught it out of the corner of my eye and then it disappeared.”
“Well, whatever I heard earlier is gone,” Marley said, scratching his beard. “Let’s go back to the tunnel and pick up our packs.”
“If we are to ride the tide out, we need to move soon,” Chayse said, his eye on the receding water as he and Marley started back up the beach.
They slipped into the shadows of the entrance. Chayse, a pace ahead, reached for his pack. Marley stopped him with a touch, pointing. Atop his bags, a creature somewhat like the transformed rsakmorg sat.
Not much larger than the squirrel-like creatures, this one had thick hair the color of young ginger, pale with almost a glow. Its lengthy ears were slender affairs with hair growing up around them in soft, long tufts. The fluffy tail would surely stretch out past its head. As it was, it curved over its shoulder like a hat plume. It stood on its hind legs. Eyes like twin pebbles of polished onyx blinked twice, and small hand-like claws waved and wiggled at the two with agitated intensity.
“What in the name of the Creator’s beard is that?” Chayse exclaimed.
“Quiet! You will have every two-footed creature in the vicinity on us,” Marley growled. “I am guessing it is some sort of rsakmorg, although larger than the others, most seems to be its tail.”
“Should I kill it?” Chayse asked, reaching for the hilt of his sword. At his gesture, the animal froze.
“No, I don’t think it will change back. That rune was honed to target any with rsakmorg or nilmorg blood because of their ability to blend in with their surroundings and the wild working of the Tavir seemed to hold true to that if nothing else.” Marley paused, stroking his beard; “Something seems strange about it. Look how it stands. It hasn’t uttered a squeak or a squeal since we came upon it.” It seemed enthralled with Chayse and once more gestured at the young man.
“By the seven’s ancient sins, I think it is trying to communicate with you, Chayse. Watch its little front paws. They are almost like little hands.”
Chayse bent forward in concentration. He too made ever so slight gestures, much less noticeable on him than it was on the animal. After a few moments, he turned to Marley and said. “It is Mek. He understands what you said and confirms one of his great-on-great circle mothers was taken by rsakmorg as a slave and her offspring sold as a slave and so on and so on.”
Chayse reached his hand out to the animal, letting him sniff his fingers. Soon he scurried up Chayse’s arm, perching on his shoulder.
“What is he doing? Can he tell you anything about the dragonkin? Are there many…” Marley stopped mid-sentence as Chayse patted the air, his eyes wide and unfocused. Mek stood on Chayse’s shoulder, his small paw touching the boy’s temple.
Marley, unsure what the creature did to Chayse, reached for his dagger. But realizing neither of them would knowingly hurt the other, stopped before his hand touched the blade. Soon, the young al’far stood with a bemused look on his face as Mek curled up in a small ball on his shoulder.
Marley expelled his breath like a horse and said, “Young’uns and their strange pets these days.” A picture of Kestrel and her Yanzul, Sirrsi, when they bonded, hung in his mind as he walked over to gather his packs. With a shake of his head, he said, “We don’t have time for this. The tide turns and half of our party is still missing. Did he have any useful information?”
Chayse shook himself, visibly struggling with incredulity at what had happened. However, the awe was quickly replaced with panic as he turned to Marley. “The dragonkin were taken.”
“Ouch, I feared you were going to say something like that.”
“He said when the storm broke and then turned unnatural, they split up, down by the bay. He had no way to let the dragonkin know it was him as they were on the run. After the rsakmorg and nilmorg changed, the Academy men came riding through. There were five of them he could see or sense.”
Marley looked sharply at the rodent-like creature on Chayse’s shoulder. “Seems his perceptions grew though his body shrunk.”
So it seems,” the boy said as he reached for his pack with one hand and braced his small friend with the other one as he bent.
“We won’t be going anywhere with him perched on your shoulder like that. You would be tryin’ to tiptoe like a princess through a mudhole.”
Chayse paused for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. “Ah, perhaps this will work.”
He gently touched Mek to wake him, although Marley doubted he was truly asleep. Marley could see Mek stiffen slightly as Chayse let his hand glide along Mek’s silken coat.
Instead of picking him off his shoulder, he said, “If Mek were to hop in the fold of my cloak hood, it should provide him a suitable place to travel and hide and not impede my movement.
Marley grinned as the squirrel flipped himself over, grabbed hold of the neck edge of Chayse’s cloak and slid down into the hood. Chayse took a moment to adjust his cloak at his throat and asked, “Where do we go?” as he strode toward the entrance.
“When you were up that tree, did you see anything we could use to get out to the sloop under the cover of darkness?”
“I didn’t, but Mek says there is a small dinghy pulled up in an inlet on the other side of the pier.”
The curve of the little cove hid the inlet and dinghy from view. Marley scratched his beard as he stood gauging the distance and cover this time of day. Most of the cove lay in pooling shadows, with the afternoon sun blocked by the remnants of the storm and the treetops. If they stuck to the shadows of the cliff, he figured, they were far enough away. Their chances of not being seen were as good a bet as being seen.
“Let’s go,” he said, and slipped along the cliffs to the left of the tunnel this time. They found the dinghy with ease and farther up the inlet; they found a sheltered place to hole-up, in a stand of starburst locust and shakerwood trees until nightfall.
“We won’t have long to wait this time of year,” Marley said, looking out at the deepening twilight.
He settled on a stump and the boy hunkered down next to him. “What should we expect from these Academy men? Do they know about the unstable essence here?” He asked as he fingered through his pack, pulling out a parcel of dried meat strips.
Marley’s frown deepened to a scowl. How the Tavir weavers couldn’t realize something was amiss with their unit of rsakmorg and nilmorg’s sudden... potential. I take it that means you expect trouble.”
“Let’s just say, I have a feeling you may realize some of that potential sooner than later.”
Chayse’s hand drifted toward the pommel of his sword as they sat in the gathering dusk. Neither was willing to put a voice to their concerns or misgivings, but as the first stars of the evening blinked into being, Marley rose, hooked his pack over his shoulder and with Chayse following close behind strode to the small forgotten dinghy.