Chapter 175: A Divine Touch? 5

Chang Chang stepped out into the open space and breathed the cool cavern air. Immediately she felt better. The open space was a buzz of activity, as a couple dozen dwarves moved about, setting up tables and benches and rolling in casks of ale and cider. Shouts, jests, and laughter greeted her ears—a sharp contrast to the attitudes she'd glimpsed when she'd first come to the city, and a welcome relief after the oppressive silence and strange whisperings of King Laggarma's library.

"Careful with that! Aw, gods—here, let me help with it, I'm beggin' you."

A wide smile spread across Chang Chang's face at hearing Dawoll's voice. The dwarven cook they first met inside the tunnel. He had been making delicious food for them. He followed a pair of dwarves carrying a large metal cauldron between them into the plaza. Thick, bubbling liquid sloshed in the pot, threatening to spill over onto the ground.

"Ignore him. He gets grumpy when his food's in peril." 

Chang Chang called to the other dwarves. Laughing, she hurried across the plaza, dodging ale casks and bumping into a woman carrying a handful of torches. Smiling an apology, she ran up to Dawoll..

"Hey!" 

Dawoll spared her a wide grin, but it quickly turned sour when the dwarves plunked the cauldron down in the middle of the plaza. He bellowed.

"How's it going to feed three dozen mouths if you spill it all over the stones?" 

In unison, the dwarves made a rude gesture and walked away. Chang Chang covered her mouth to keep from bursting into laughter. Gods it felt good to hold in laughter instead of worry and fear.

"What's all this? Are you cooking for the whole of Myria?"

She said, bending over to sniff at the brew in the cauldron. Burrowers meat juices, mushrooms, and broth—her mouth watered at the scents. 

"Almost." 

Dawoll said. He affected weariness, but the pride was clearly discernible in his voice. 

"Druya had me helping out with the wounded. We're set up in the Flamingaxe's old temple, and I was bringin' food over two, sometimes three times a day. I didn't really have anyone to cook for since Abron and Orban left, and Ongara spends all her time at the forge." 

Dawoll looked affronted. 

"Well then, what do you think happens? Ongara shows up and wants me to help with the cookin' for her wedding feast. She said they weren't plannin' to have any food at all because of supply shortages. They were just goin' to drink. Then Ongara said since I loved to cook so much and had a bit of talent makin' a little bit of food go a long way, could I cook for her wedding?" 

Dawoll's chest puffed up with pride. 

"How could I say no to that? Not have a feast on a weddin' day—rubbish, that's what that is. I don't care if there's a battle comin'."

"Of course. But what's this? Surely you're not cooking already."

"Ah, this is just a test batch. Goin' to feed it to the wounded." 

He glanced anxiously in the direction the other dwarves had gone. 

"Think they'll be comin' back soon?"

"Don't count on it. It's good to see you, Dawoll. I've missed your grousing and cooking."

"Anything's better than that yaomo you're shut up with."

The cook looked down at his hands. Something in his tone, the slump of his shoulders, caught Chang Chang's attention. Fear stirred in her belly. 

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Nothin' to be worried about yet," 

Dawoll said hastily, but his guilty expression made Chang Chang's heart speed up.

"What is it? What have you heard, Dawoll?" 

"Well …" 

Dawoll hesitated, and then he uttered a weary sigh before continuing. 

"You knew Abron and Orban had gone out with Ju Feng and a bunch of other soldiers to secure the Cavern of The Lost Souls." 

"Yes, I knew they were going on a scouting mission, but I thought they'd be back by now. What happened?"

Chang Chang waved a hand impatiently. 

"Some scouts brought word a little while ago that they fought with the yaomo in the Cavern, and it was a big one. There was some kind of explosion, and it sealed off the tunnels between there and Myria."

Dawoll replied.

"Explosion? What happened to Myria's forces? Were they caught in the blast?"

Chang Chang asked in succession as she felt lightheaded. 

"Nobody knows. They're tunnelin' through to send reinforcements. We won't know anythin' until they clear the debris and make sure the tunnels are safe."

"Ju Feng is with them. Why didn't you tell me about this sooner, as soon as you found out? We have to do something, go after them."

Chang Chang didn't know why she said it. Of course, Dawoll knew that. She knew Ju Feng was a strong cultivated who could hold his own, but still, there were deadly forces everywhere that could threaten his life easily. Wujin was as deadly as they could be. Even the ascedants could fall in Wujin. The underground was also of no exception.

"Chang, they're already doin' everythin' they can. We just have to wait."

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"But why didn't you tell me? All this time, I've been in the library reading, sitting in front of a warm fire like nothing was wrong, while Ju Feng …" 

Chang Chang said, trying to quell the panic that gripped her. She couldn't finish. For all she knew, Ju Feng could be in mortal danger,  if not dead. His body lying somewhere in a dark cave. Maybe the dark elves had taken him prisoner, the way the dwarves took Gallazza. What would they do to him? Hands trembling, Chang Chang covered her mouth. She thought she might be sick.

"What about the king?" 

Chang Chang asked.

"What about him?"

Dawoll repeated curiously.

"I've heard the dwarves whispering about him, how he sits in his empty hall alone day after day. Will he sit there, worrying about Gallazza and what he might be plotting, while all this is wiped away? While his soldiers are dying in the Underground?"

Chang Chang spread her hands, encompassing the open space. 

"Keep your voice down, young one. "You can't speak of our leader that way in our own home."

Dawoll looked around, uneasy. A few of the dwarves had paused in their work to stare at them. 

"Then let him lead. Let him come out and show his face to his people—give them hope."

Dlawoll raised his hands in a placating gesture. 

"He has reasons for being the way he is."

"You mean because that yaomo Gallazza—tried to assassinate him? "But he's still—"

Chang Chang said. 

"That's not it." 

Dawoll interrupted her. He guided Chang Chang over to a bench set against the temple wall and sat down beside her. 

"The king's been fightin' the yaomo for a long time, ten times longer than you or I've been alive. He's worn down with it and with seein' his city taken apart bit by bit."

Chang Chang felt a stab of sympathy for the king, but at the same time, she couldn't understand him. Perhaps it was the difference between being a dwarf and a human. 

"He carries a heavy burden, but if it's too much to bear, he should set it aside for another, for the good of his people. Something happened to the king a few years ago. You see, the king is different from us, the other dwarves. He rules the city for only a quarter of a thousand years."

Dawoll said, dropping his voice even though they were quite alone in the shadow of the temple. 

"Only two hundred and fifty years ? What does he do for the other seven hundred and fifty? Does he leave the city?" 

Chang Chang's brow furrowed. Somehow, it didn't fit with what she knew of King Laggarma. Why would he abandon the city for so long? 

"He stays in the city, but he 'goes to the stone. It's something to do with the dwarven celestial ancestor, Moradin. His avatar transforms into a mithral statue and stays that way, locked in stone, for five thousands of years at a time."

Chang Chang lifted her head to stare at Dowall, stunned. 

"Heaven's tears. Why would he leave his city for so long without a leader?"

"A regency council rules in his place while he sleeps. Only, something happened the last time he went to the stone. On the day he was supposed to wake up, he didn't. Druya said it was awful, frightening. No matter what they tried to rouse him, he stayed in his statue form. Nothing like that had ever happened before."

Dawoll said, shrugging. 

"But he changed back eventually. How long did king Laggarma stay a statue?"

"A long time. When he finally woke, he was … different. He's still king, and strong, but there are shadows around him now that weren't there before. The stone took something from him. Probably, part of his soul."

"He didn't say what had happened to him? Didn't his people demand an explanation?"

Chang Chang asked.

"They've enough to worry about with the yaomo. Maybe they were just glad to have their leader back."

Dwell replied.

Chang Chang tried to imagine it, a king locked in stone for years. There were mystical arts performed by mighty artists that could do that. Still, it was a bard's tale. If the king removed himself from his city for so long, how could he truly claim to be a part of it? How could one person, even one as old and wise as king Laggarma, rule Myria when he existed half in the world and half in stone?

"Yet his people are loyal. What if he's no longer fit to rule? Will they follow him to their own destruction?"

Chang Chang murmured. 

"I don't know—maybe we would. "The dwarves are tradition and honor bound, and they need their king now more than ever if they're going to survive." 

Dawoll said, his eyes filling with sadness. 

But at what cost? Chang Chang thought. Ju Feng and an entire patrol of dwarf soldiers were missing, the city echoed with silence, and king Laggarma stood apart, believing a single yaomo was the key to it all. Was that true, or was the king losing touch with the world, with his people? Chang Chang's mind was more troubled than ever, and she knew she had to go back to the library. She didn't want to face her task now. It was small in comparison to what the dwarves faced—the extinction of her own life compared to the destruction of an entire people, an entire dwarven history.

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