Chapter 13: Thirteen: Licking our Wounds

A hot wind blew against Sarah’s skin as she found herself on a familiar stone floor. Blue fire raged around the room and on the altar, the statue’s face was contorted into a mask of rage.

“The rise of Ratri has disturbed the natural order,” the voice boomed, “your obstinance will have dire consequences.”

After having twice bested the presence after it tried to wrest control, Sarah was feeling confident and decided she had had enough of being pushed around.

“What are the other gods of the Pantheon doing about it, then?” she demanded.

“I do not concern myself with what the others plot!” the flames grew in strength as the voice roared, but Sarah was unintimidated.

“Your back’s against the wall, isn’t it?” Sarah goaded, “the orcs have abandoned you and are now worshipping this upstart. Perhaps She will take your place in the Pantheon.”

“YOU WILL WATCH YOUR TONGUE!”

The flames flared and the heat intensified to the point where even Sarah felt uncomfortable as a malevolence resonated from the statue.

“The ascension of Ratri into the pantheon will have dire consequences for all the races of Sera Thun,” the voice warned.

“Oh, and I suppose You can fix all that if I give myself over to you,” Sarah said sardonically.

“Yes, we are in a position to nip this in the bud, I will burn this city to ash and with it, any hope Ratri has for ascension will die,” the voice replied.

Sarah turned pale. “You would destroy an entire city, just like that?”

“It will not be the first time,” the voice said, “you, as an avid student of history should be aware of that.”

Sarah swallowed. The city of Findendor sprang to mind, the legendary city that had been wiped off the face of the planet for practising magic that had been forbidden by the Pantheon and was to this day held up as an example of why the Pantheon should not be angered.

“I will never be a party to something like that,” she croaked.

“The pivotal time is near at hand,” the voice boomed, “a willing host is always preferable, but I will not let this chance slip. When the time comes, you may not have a choice.”

Sarah woke up with a start. Her nightdress was soaked in sweat despite the coolness of the night. She looked over at John who looked like a giant as he slept in a dwarf’s bed. Udoriol was in the next bed, and his feet dangled off the end of the bed. She then looked out the window. It was still dark outside, and drunks were singing down on the street below their room.

Distressed by her dream and not wanting to go back to sleep, she padded to the door to see if anyone was still up and heard Grimald’s voice on the other side. His voice sounded strained. She also recognized Cheval’s voice. They were sheltering in a dwarven builders’ dormitory somewhere in the Upper City. Cheval was their foreman and hailed from the same neighbourhood as Grimald. The dormitory had been prepared by him as a safe house in anticipation of this job and Sarah marvelled at how organized Roldo was.

They had emerged, battered, and exhausted from the sewers that afternoon and had taken advantage of the chaos caused by the sewer cave in to make it here undetected by the various groups that were looking for them. Not wanting to eavesdrop on their conversation, she opened the door a crack. When she heard their conversation stop, she stepped out.

“Ah, you’re awake lassie,” Grimald said and grimaced from the pain. Udoriol had collapsed as soon as he entered the dormitory, and a pair of Cheval’s dwarven workers had to help carry him to bed.

“You should rest,” Sarah said worriedly.

“Can’t on account of the pain,” Grimald winced and took a swig of brandy. “I’ll be fine. The alcohol dulls it. I’ll soldier on until the elf wakes up.”

“I’m afraid the only healers I know of are with the Church,” Cheval remarked. He was tall for a dwarf, and even broader across the shoulders than Grimald. He sported a magnificent beard, which he wore in a braid that fell to his feet. “And the last thing we want is them poking around here.”

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything,” Sarah said as she sat in an empty chair.

“We were just discussing our next move,” Grimald said. He groaned with pain as he tried to find a more comfortable position for his ribs.

Sarah looked at Grimald and tried to subtly cock her head at the other dwarf to ask if he could be trusted. The shorter dwarf broke into a toothy grin. “Aye, Cheval here is one of the six people I trust with my life.”

“That’s a very precise number,” Sarah remarked.

Grimald’s eyes crinkled with good humour. “As I’ve told you before, I am very careful with who I trust my back to.”

Sarah glanced at the other dwarf who was beaming at her toothily. “We’re like brothers, Grimald and I, and he has told me a lot about you.”

“Has he now?” Sarah asked carefully.

“Relax young lady,” the dwarf’s belly shook as he laughed, “I am a worshipper of Jord like all the good dwarves of Vilnerg are. Some of my boys worship Agni. They might have their suspicions about you, but they know better than to rat on me.”

Those workers had been a cause for concern for Sarah. They had been dismissed as soon as Udoriol had been carried to bed and she couldn’t help but worry who they were telling about the new arrivals at their dormitory.

“So, what’s on your mind, lassie?” Grimald asked before taking another swig from his flask.

“That crystal John took off Gorwyn could be a clue to what’s going on here,” Sarah observed, “Udoriol and I got a very bad feeling from them.”

Grimald nodded thoughtfully. “Do you have any idea where we can find out more about that crystal?”

“You could show it to me, if you like,” Cheval said, “I may not be the most knowledgeable about minerals that come out of the earth, but I’m a veritable encyclopaedia compared to our friend here.”

Grimald scowled good naturedly. “I suppose it can’t hurt.”

Sarah went into the room and returned with the crystal. It filled her with nausea just to hold it and gratefully placed it on a small table.

Cheval frowned as he studied it. “It looks like an ort crystal.”

“Well I’ll be a derindor’s uncle,” Grimald laughed and then groaned with pain as he clutched his ribs. “You do know what it is”

His friend smirked. “I appreciate your determination to complete that jibe.”

He then took the crystal and held it close to his eye, “Yes, this certainly is an ort crystal. Infused with a strange power that makes it glow like this, but it is unmistakably an ort crystal.”

“Huh,” he grunted as he placed it back on the side table, “They’re typically found close to silver veins but are largely worthless. They’re used mostly to make cheap jewellery by the halflings, I believe. I’ve never known them to have magical properties.”

Sarah nodded thoughtfully. Ort crystals rang a bell, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what the significance was.

“That means that those ‘Tears of Night’ are actually soul gems,” Sarah turned to see Udoriol standing at the door. He still looked tired, but there was some colour on his face, and he could stand unassisted.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah said, “did we wake you up?”

“What’s a soul gem?” Grimald asked when the elf shook his head.

Udoriol smiled tiredly. “First, let me tend to you. I’m afraid I’ve kept you in pain for too long.”

“Oh it’s nothing,” Grimald grimaced, “barely a scratch.”

The elf healed the dwarf before flopping into an easy chair. “There,” he sighed tiredly, “how do you feel?”

“Wonderful,” Grimald replied as he stretched and tested his ribs, “a little stiff, but the pain’s all but gone.”

“Glad to be of service,” Udoriol replied. He picked the purple crystal up and closed his palm around it.

“This thing is radiating magical energy quite intensely,” he said absently.

“Why does it feel so…” Sarah’s voice trailed off.

“Disgusting?” the elf arched a brow.

When Sarah nodded, Udoriol opened his other hand and began chanting a prayer. A bright shimmering orb appeared in his hand and shone radiantly. Its radiance grew until the others could no longer bear to look at it and were forced to turn their hands. Then, the chanting stopped, and the light vanished. Udoriol held up the crystal that seemed to have lost a little of its lustre.

“There’s no mistake,” he said, placing it carefully back on the table, “it’s a soul gem.”

“So, what’s a soul gem?” Grimald asked.

Udoriol took a deep breath before replying, “simply put, it stores magical energy.”

“There are plenty of crystals that do that,” Sarah remarked, “I’ve even seen one or two myself, and they didn’t give off… that feeling.”

“Aren’t those sorts of crystals supposed to be rare?” Grimald added, “How are the likes of those cultists getting their hands on so many?”

Udoriol held up a hand and the others fell silent. “Soul gems are a little different from your conventional magic crystal.”

“How so?” Sarah asked.

The elf licked his lips. Cheval offered him a glass of brandy which was gratefully accepted. Udoriol took a long swig and sighed with relish before replying, “as the name implies, soul gems store the magical energy converted from souls.”

Sarah frowned. “Souls?”

“Have any of you heard of the story of Findendor?”

The others nodded.

“You’ve probably heard that they were destroyed for dabbling in the dark arts,” Udoriol continued.

“Were they converting people’s souls into those things?” Grimald asked, looking at the gem with disgust.

The elf nodded.

“Wait, what happens when a person’s soul is converted into that?” Sarah asked as a ball of ice formed in her stomach.

“They die,” Udoriol replied, “and their bodies are left as lifeless husks.”

Sarah turned pale.

“The disappearances could be tied to that,” Grimald remarked.

“They must have harnessed more than a handful of souls from the feeling I got back at the shantytown,” Udoriol said as he levelled his gaze on Sarah, “you felt it too, didn’t you?”

Sarah nodded.

“How much magical energy does a soul contain?” Cheval asked.

Udoriol looked at the dwarf and shrugged. “I must admit, my knowledge on the topic is limited. All research about it was destroyed shortly after I entered the Church, and I was only too happy to forget I’d ever heard about it.”

“It sounds like our enemy has harvested a considerable amount of magical energy,” Grimald mused, “we also know they plan to resurrect Ratri’s Chosen… the only question is how, and what the significance of Her Chosen’s return is…”

“I don’t think the significance matters at the moment,” Udoriol remarked, “we should focus on foiling their plans.”

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“Agreed,” Sarah and Grimald said in unison.

“The library here in Corrington is extensive and covers a wide range of topics,” Cheval pointed out, “perhaps you could look there for a clue on the how there.”

Grimald frowned. “But Udoriol said all knowledge on the topic was destroyed.”

A sly smile crossed Cheval’s face. “This knowledge sounds like it would be very useful in war.”

Udoriol nodded. “That stands to reason.”

Cheval looked at Sarah and continued, “I hope I don’t offend you, young lady, but humans demonstrate a remarkable flexibility with their morals when it comes to winning wars.”

“Are you suggesting that some of that knowledge might have survived here?” Udoriol asked, “I would be surprised. The Church has a large presence here. The size of the cathedral is a testament to that. They wouldn’t have stood for it.”

“I’m just saying it’s worth a look,” Cheval shrugged.

“Do you have a contact at the library here?” Grimald ventured.

Cheval’s smile broadened. “As a matter of fact, I do. Lucy’s her name. She’s the head librarian. Tell her I sent you and she’ll help you out.”

Cheval paused and stroked his beard thoughtfully before correcting himself, “She might.”

Grimald frowned. “Even if such books existed, they might not tell us what our enemy is up to. Going to the library is a long shot within a long shot.”

“We should split up,” came John’s voice.

They turned to see the young man standing at the door. “Grimald and I can work the streets, look for these preachers, maybe capture one and prise what they’re up to out of him while Udoriol and Sarah can go explore the library.”

“You can leave the footwork to me and my boys,” Cheval said, “you’re both outsiders in this city and are likely to get picked up by the City Guard if you tried to kidnap people off the streets.”

Cheval paused and sighed. “However, I suppose we are going to be busy in the coming weeks…”

“Why is that?” John asked.

Cheval gave John a sideways look. “Well, the four of you did just wreck the Upper City’s sewage system and they’re not going to tolerate smelling their own filth for very long, so it will be down to us to build a new line.”

“Build a new one?” John asked, looking surprised, “why not just repair it?”

“That tunnel is a prime invasion line that goes under the city’s defences,” Cheval pointed out, “it was made to be difficult, if not impossible to re-excavate when collapsed.”

“Then why have it at all?” Sarah asked.

Cheval grinned crookedly, “because the nobility in this City hates smelling their own waste.”

“So can your boys do it?” Grimald ventured.

Cheval shrugged. “Well there will be an interminable amount of time spent bickering over where to place the new line, how much it’s going to cost and who’s going to fund it, whether or not we build it with the instability like the first one on account of the war being over… until that’s all sorted, they ought to have a free hand.”

“How long do you think that will be for?”

“A week, give or take,” Cheval replied, “the wheels probably won’t start moving until the smell becomes really unbearable.”

Grimald sighed. “Alright then, we’ll leave it to your boys. We four should avoid doing anything too provocative…”

“I won’t be much use in a library,” John warned.

“Take it as an opportunity to enrich yourself,” Grimald shrugged, “at any rate, I’ve written a full report and sent it to the pigeon keeper. It will fly to Woodhop at dawn.”

“It could take over a week to get a reply,” Udoriol warned.

Grimald raised an eyebrow. “Do you think time is that pressing?”

Cheval cleared his throat. “I hadn’t mentioned this earlier because it’s just a rumour, but there’s word that the city elders have sent for help and that the Four Kingdoms are mustering an army to come sort out the orc problem at the gates.”

The others looked at him, stunned.

“There was a riot the other day and the City Guard were defeated roundly,” he continued.

“We’d heard about that,” Udoriol said, “are the guard really not capable of dealing with them?”

Cheval shrugged. “They can probably hold the wall against anything that rabble outside, but every spare man at arms and every available penny in the entire march has been sent to the Southward Expansion to help keep the peace there. The City Guard is down to its bare bones.”

Sarah bit her lip. “If they come, there will be a massacre, won’t there?”

“Ratri thrives in situations like this,” Udoriol said pensively, “the Goddess of Night and Death. Her followers could well be the architects of this entire situation.”

“Agni also revels in conflict,” Grimald remarked, looking pointedly at Sarah.

Sarah nodded. “The other guy seems to think that the ascension of Ratri is bad news.”

“So do I,” Udoriol sighed, “Her servants grow more powerful. Vampires used to be cunning, but they lacked brute strength.”

“The one we encountered yesterday seemed to have plenty to spare,” John remarked.

“That’s precisely it,” Udoriol said, “a cleric and a paladin used to be enough to clear an entire coven. They had to be cautious to avoid falling into the vampire’s schemes, but when it came to a head on confrontation… that holy bolt I struck her with should have been more than enough to destroy an elder vampire, but it barely scratched her.”

“It’s frightening to think that she’s only a minor cog in this whole operation,” Grimald remarked.

“Being strong doesn’t necessarily make someone a leader,” Sarah pointed out, trying to look on the bright side.

“The servants of the Night Goddess are numerous and cunning,” Udoriol warned, “and now I fear they have been imbued with new power.”

His expression darkened. “This could well be beyond our abilities to handle.”

“Are you saying we should send word to Roldo and assume our part in all this is over?” John ventured hopefully.

“We have done what we set out to do,” John added, when no one answered, “we’ve investigated the situation and uncovered the plot. It was never our role to quash it.”

“I think the least we could do is research things in the library,” Sarah said, “something terrible is going to happen here and soon. I can feel it."

"Then all the more reason we should leave!” John cried, “While we can. Before this army gets here. We already have two fugitives among us!”

“I can’t,” Sarah said, “I feel like my fate is intertwined with whatever happens here. On top of that, the countless innocents that are here…”

“We owe them nothing,” John asserted, “And even if we did, what can the four of us possibly do to help?”

Sarah’s eyes flicked to John’s. “One week in the library, that’s all I ask.”

John looked to Cheval. “How long do you think it will take this army to get here?”

The dwarf shrugged his massive shoulders. “It’s hard to say, lad. It’s just a rumour, isn’t it? Raising an army won’t take long now that most of the farming’s done til spring, but there’s the matter of actually paying for it and going through with it…”

“Judging from the number of orcs outside, I’d say it would take at least a fortnight for an army large enough to deal with them to be raised and marched over here,” Udoriol observed.

John eyed the elf suspiciously.

“I could repeat my musings in a Circle of Truth if you’d like,” he said.

John shook his head and looked to Sarah who looked back with determination in her eyes. At length, he sighed and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Grimald.

“I should remind you all that I am in charge here,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “and my decision is that we won’t leave until we hear back from Roldo.”

“So we go to the library?” Sarah asked hopefully.

The dwarf nodded. “We may as well. We’ll be out of harm’s way if nothing else.”

“But…” John began. The dwarf cut him off with a raised hand.

“I know, this job has long since exceeded the scope we signed up for,” he sighed, “I’ve communicated that to Roldo as well. We wait one week for his reply. If it is not satisfactory, I’ll be the first to walk.”

“Will we get paid if we do?” John asked.

“I’ll see to it.”

The dwarf’s eyes flicked to Udoriol. “What do you think?”

“I was going to go to the library anyway,” he replied.

“And about walking away?”

“I think I’ll wait until I learn more about what’s going on here.”

The elf sighed tiredly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot to think about.”

Udoriol walked back into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Sarah gave Grimald a worried look.

“Aye lassie, we’ve found ourselves embroiled in something sticky, alright,” he sighed, “this is at least ten times worse than the Unferlist Job.”

Sarah broke into a smile despite the gravity of their situation. “I suppose that’s why we’re being paid ten times the price.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Grimald broke into a soft chuckle and shook his head, “so we are.”

 

 

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