Shay's smile vanished as he saw the pained look on Lynthalsea's lovely features. "Please forgive her," he said, glancing at Avari's broad back. "We have had a grievous loss, she more than the rest of us."
Lynthalsea swept her eyes across the sea of wolves, then met Shay's once more. "The tall, strong one. He is gone."
"He was lost to the vile Nekdukarr, Darkmist," Shay said, suppressing the twinge of jealousy at her description of Jundag. "But he saved our lives. We owe him everything."
"A Nekdukarr," Lynthalsea whispered, dread paling her features. She sighed and looked to Avari. "Were they lovers?"
Shay nearly choked on the jerky he was eating, but shook his head. "No, but if our journey had been as simple as we had thought, they may have been." He was mortified to find himself blushing. He felt like a schoolboy in this strange elf's presence.
"... er not?" DoHeney was demanding.
"What?"
"Are you gonna introduce me ta yer friend er not?" The dwarf had come to Shay's side. The wolves, calm now with their leader awake, let him walk around. "The name's DoHeney, miss, and I'm very glad ta make your acquaintance." He gave Shay a kick. "Since our mutual friend here is bein' so rude..."
Lynthalsea reached to take DoHeney's hand and nearly lost her covering again. "Well met, DoHeney. I thank you for recovering my bow and other belongings." She pointed to the pile of things by the dwarf's blankets.
"Oh, 'twas nothin'," he replied, beaming in delight.
"Well, are we leaving, or are we going to sit here and chat all day?" Avari stood over them, two wolves playfully nipping at her hands in an attempt to regain her attention.
Shay sighed. "Yes, we must be moving before the beasts from the keep have a chance to track us."
"You have a day's lead," Lynthalsea informed them. "My friends detained the evil ones until late yesterday afternoon. They will be some time in catching up, since it will be difficult for them to find your footprints amid all the wolf tracks." She smiled at her pack, pleased by their cunning defenses. "We will watch for them, so they do not get too close."
Her last statement startled Shay out of his reverie. "You're not coming with us? You are still weak, and we can care for you better than..." His remarks trailed off as he realized that the wolves had done a better job of protecting them last night than he ever could. Also, Lynthalsea had been healthy and happy until she had chosen to defend him and his friends. All the same, he had assumed she would accompany them, and only now saw the arrogance in that thought.
She looked as startled as he, but for an entirely different reason. "Go with you? Why would you want me with you? Half elf, half wolf?"
"I knew it!" DoHeney exclaimed. "Ye picked up some of them animal diseases, didn't ye? Me mum always told me, never let an animal lick yer face. Yuck!"
Shay elbowed his stocky companion, and helped Lynthalsea to her feet. She retrieved her bundle, disappeared behind a tree and soon emerged wearing her rope-tied cloak.
"I... wouldn't know how to act around people after all this time." She cast her glance across the ground as if an answer might be written in the snow. But the only things to catch her gaze were Shay's books lying on his blanket. Her eyes widened as if the royal-blue, leather-bound tomes had solved the riddle. "Those books, are they yours?"
The sudden change of subject caught Shay off guard. "Yes, they are mine," he answered, puzzled.
"They are... very beautiful." The elf stooped and ran a delicate finger over the silver runes adorning the leather cover. "It's been a long time since I've seen books." She stood and stared into Shay's eyes. "You are a wizard?"
"I am a Priest of Tem the Balancer, Lord of Justice," Shay replied, melting in her gaze. "But I dabble in the arcane arts as well."
She breathed deeply of the crisp morning air, then said, "One moment, please." Lynthalsea turned and walked several paces away, then stooped and gathered her pack to her. She seemed to be speaking to them, and they to her, as they grunted and growled at each other. Shortly she returned, her face stiffened with resolve, but softened by the tears that ran unchecked down her cheeks. Her eyes were bright as she looked to the wolves, then back to the companions.
"I have decided to go with you, if you will tolerate me as a companion. The pack agrees; it is time for me to rejoin those of my own kind. Maybe I can assist you in your fight against the Nekdukarr and his evil. I would at least like to try."
Shay's mouth hung open, speechless, but not so the glib DoHeney. "Why, o' course ye can come with us! It will be right nice ta have such a pretty thing along... meaning no insult ta ye, Avari," he hastily added, giving the woman a disarming smile.
"None taken," she replied, her scathing smile as cold as the snow under her boots.
Her ire affected DoHeney not in the slightest. He nodded, reached over to close Shay's mouth, and pushed the priest toward his packs. "Git yer things. We're leavin'."
Lynthalsea spent the remaining time sharing tearful goodbyes with her friends, hugging and scratching and nipping at the mass of wild canines that had become her family. The wolves trotted away in small groups, back in the direction of the keep. They looked back often, but were soon out of sight.
The companions, once again four, set off in the other direction, toward DoHeney's home. Avari's broad shoulders still slumped, and she remained sullen and quiet. DoHeney, however, seemed unable to travel in silence, regaling everyone with his endless tales. The familiar routine soon eased Shay's awe of Lynthalsea, though he still cast covert glances at her.
Lynthalsea just listened to the conversation, not speaking much. She was still weak and could not travel at full speed, but compared to the tedious pace of the day before, their steps today were light and sure. The miles passed quickly under their feet.
CHAPTER 33
The group of weary travelers trudged to a stop in front of a dark cave mouth, one of many that honeycombed the cliffs in whose shadow they had been hiking throughout the morning. After two days in the foothills, all the cliffs, caves and mountain peaks were beginning to look the same.
"Well, here we be!" DoHeney announced.
"Where?" asked Shay. He took advantage of the stop to lower himself onto a rock to rest, massaging his aching thighs.
"We're here? So where's the keep?" Avari asked, tilting her head to look up the cliff face, then peering into the gloom of the cave. "Jundag would—"
Shay looked sharply at his friend as she cut her sentence short, a sob catching in her throat. She covered it with a cough and turned away from the others, feigning interest in a scraggly bush. Jundag's loss affected them all, but it weighed most heavily on Avari, and the burden of Avari's resentment fell on Lynthalsea and Shay. He turned toward DoHeney, eyebrows raised.
DoHeney indicated the cave mouth. "In there," he said, a shade of embarrassment in his averted gaze. "Not as fancy as Zellohar, but the elders don't let anyone fix the place up. I guess they always expected the king ta show up an' say, 'Tis all right! Come on back ta Zellohar!' So everything crafted is sold ta folk in the towns. Damn shame. Ye should always make the place ye live yer home, I say, even if it ain't where ye wanna be!" He frowned and shook his head, then waved his friends into the cave. "Well, ye may as well meet me kin, such as they are."
The austere entrance to Boontredk Warrens was grim in comparison to the grandeur of Zellohar Keep. Within the cave, at a pair of stout but plain wooden doors, two bored guards met them with exactly one word apiece, both directed solely at DoHeney. Suspicious scowls followed the others, but none blocked their way, so the companions continued on in silence. Even the distant ping and clang of hammers seemed sullen in the sputtering torchlight that led them to the central meeting hall.
"It ain't no Zellohar," DoHeney said, spreading his stubby arms in mock greeting, "but it's me home. Come along this way. We be needin' ta drop down to the residence level."
Shay shook his head as they traversed the largest, most ornate room in Boontredk Warrens. His fingers brushed one of the rou
gh-hewn pillars supporting the room's low, flat ceiling. If the walls of Zellohar Keep had brought tears to his eyes because of their beauty, then these drew tears because of their starkness. Yet the chill decor seemed appropriate when they encountered a group of elders.
"Ye bring strangers inta our home, DoHeney?" a particularly sour-looking dwarf asked, his broad hands tucked in his belt as his two companions joined in a group scowl. "Are ye plannin' on givin' em our stores and rations as well, or jist gettin' 'em ta help ye steal the rest o' us blind?"
"Go hump a rock, MurFindle!" their suddenly surly companion said, not pausing to introduce them. "Asides, ye oughtn't worry so. There ain't been nothin' worth stealin' in these caves since the ore was mined out!"
The dwarf's acidic retort struck Shay as odd. Granted, most dwarves he had met would have reacted similarly to such accusations, but from DoHeney, the surly comment sounded as incongruous as hearing a canary sing baritone. Shay decided to address this issue before the situation worsened. The last thing they wanted was to start a feud with the dwarves from whom they were hoping to garner aid.
"Excuse me, DoHeney," Shay interrupted when the grey-bearded dwarves had passed out of hearing, "but why did we not present our problem to those elders? They at least seemed to be interested in our presence here. Perhaps they could help."
"Help!" DoHeney snorted a laugh. "Yer about as likely ta get help from that bunch as ye are o' findin' an orc priest at an elf weddin'! Me Uncle DoHurley's the dwarf we need ta talk ta. He's the only one'll have anything worthwhile ta say." With that DoHeney strode deeper into the warrens, prattling on in an uncharacteristically caustic tone.
"Them elders're the very reason I grew up the way I did. Imagine livin' in this sorry excuse fer a quarry hole, then findin' out what a beautiful place yer ma an' da fought an' died tryin' ta protect!" He hawked and spat into a dark corner. "And on top'a that, when I first come back from discoverin' Zellohar an' started tellin' ever'one what a glory it were, they go an' order me ta keep me mouth shut. Then they go an' tell me na'er ta go an' set foot in the place again, spoutin' some gibberish that it were cursed! O'course, this only sent me right back, not ta mention ruff'lin' me fur ever time I set eyes on them sorry excuses fer dwarves."
Shay let the conversation lapse as they progressed through the quiet, rough-hewn tunnels that were so low as to threaten to dent Avari's helm. The modified ore elevator that lowered them to the deeper levels was so flimsy that he wondered if they would survive the descent. The deeper chambers, however, rang with life. Dwarven children scampered about. Hefty dwarven women carried baskets of laundry that would have staggered Avari, and here a few aged dwarves who held no positions of influence, whether by choice or otherwise, lived among the generations of their offspring.
DoHeney's face relaxed into the familiar mischievous grin as he snatched up a tiny dwarven girl darting past. Settling her in the crook of his arm and speaking softly in dwarvish, he chucked her under her cherubic little chin. The girl's mother appeared and accepted the giggling child with a smile, scolding as they vanished down one of the tunnels. Four young dwarf maidens bearing baskets mounded with spools of thin silver wire passed the group, staring at Shay; DoHeney sent them giggling off with a few words of dwarvish. Finally they stopped before a door not unlike any of the other hundreds they had passed. DoHeney knocked and waited. The door snapped open and a grizzled old dwarf bellowed at the top of his lungs directly in their faces.
"What is it this time, by the Maker's hammer? I thought I told ye ta—" He stopped, craning his neck to fix his one good eye on the group. His gaze settled on DoHeney and his face broke into a gape-toothed grin. "By thunder an' lightnin' an' the Delver's dirty toenails, DoHeney!" He clapped the younger dwarf on the shoulder with a blow that would have shivered an oak. "And ye brung friends! Good! Good! Now let's all get inside where ye can sit an' rest. Ye all look like ye been sleepin' in an ore car."
"At least we know where he gets it from now," Avari muttered as they ducked into the old dwarf's chambers.
They were whisked into comfortable seats and given steaming mugs of a dark tea that smelled of distilled spirits. Sipping the pungent brew, Shay surveyed the decor. All manner of weapons hung on the walls next to glittering shields and gem-studded helms. Their host, an unbelievably broad dwarf, who was still obviously powerful despite the ravages of age, sat in an equally broad chair, puffing on an acrid-smelling pipe and paring his nails with a broad-bladed dagger.
"Well now, boyo," he started, once everyone was introduced and settled in, "what kind o' trouble would ye' be in this time? And no fancy stories, mind ye. I'd not be likin' ta tan yer hide fer lyin' ta me, but I will if ye try pullin' me leg."
Shay thought DoHeney actually blushed before launching into a brief and painfully accurate account of what had befallen them in Zellohar, displaying the king's journal and the gem as evidence. DoHurley's thick fingers caressed the ancient tome's pages as if the touch would revive old memories of his king. His single sharp eye darted between their stern faces, noting their travel-weary postures and the determination in their eyes.
"By the Earth Mother's holy hand and the Keeper o' the Slain," he began, a glint of the same determination flickering in his eye, "do ye know what this means, lad? Dammit, I wish yer gran-mammy was here, but she jist left yeaterde' fer the mountains. Do any o' ye know what all o' this could come to?"
"I believe," Shay interrupted, glad to finally address the subject head on, "it means a Nekdukarr is about to stage an all-out assault on the surface world. And that, if he possess the power inherent to these gems, and has Zellohar Keep as a virtually impregnable fortress, he just may be successful."
"Aye, laddie, it means that," DoHurley agreed with a grim smile, "but it also means ye have a fightin' chance—a slim one, but a real one—o' turnin' this whole thing 'round on the demon-worshipin' scum, and freein' Zellohar Keep from near a hunnert years o' havin' their kind crawlin' around inside it like maggots, and givin' all these fine folk a proper home ta return to!
"And that," he continued, thick legs vaulting his square frame from the chair, arms waving and gnarled fists clenching in emphasis, "is somethin' ta get an old dwarf's blood racin' like a young colt's!" He clapped his calloused hands together with an impact like a hammer on stone, and rubbed them together in anticipation.
Bellies full after a steaming meal and eyes sharp after some much-needed sleep, the companions met once again in DoHurley's chambers, this time to plan. DoHurley was seated as before in his expansive chair, blowing clouds of noxious smoke and reveling in the undivided attention of everyone in the room. Everyone, that is, save Avari, who paced the confining space like a caged lioness. Her dreams had allowed her little rest; every time she managed to drift off she would see that black sword fall again, hear that truncated scream again, and watch Jundag die again. She felt she must do something, before the taut strings of her nerves were drawn beyond the breaking point.
"It would appear ta me," the old dwarf began, waving the stem of his pipe for emphasis, "that the first thing ye need ta do is decide how yer gonna go about this thing. But before we get ta that, let me tell ye a thing or two about these gems." He stood, tapping out his pipe as he strode across to DoHeney. As he walked Avari noticed that in addition to missing an eye, DoHurley had lost two fingers of his left hand, and walked with a stiffness in his left leg. This dwarf was no stranger to warfare.
Her father's lessons kindled in her memory: "A warrior's experience can be measured by the number of scars. The unscarred warrior is the inexperienced one, the scarred is the experienced, the old and scarred is the skilled and experienced. The unskilled only have gravestones to show for their experience."
She looked at her own hands, which showed only the callused palms of a horse farmer, and the few tiny scars of her sparring matches. Her fingers absently rubbed her thigh and her first real battle scar, now only a memory. You were wrong, father, she thought as her eyes misted over once again. Some scars can't be
seen at all. But they're the ones that hurt the worst. She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve and returned her attention to the old dwarf.
"As ye can see, the gem is flawless," he began, holding out the stunning ruby. "And it gives off a light that shows it's not just a pretty rock. But what ye might not realize is that this gem and the other three are linked by magic." Shay started to speak, but was cut off by the gnarled old dwarf. "Not the type o' magic that yer used ta tossin' about, me new friend. No, indeed. This is a different type o' magic. Earth magic it is. And though ye might use it to push yer own magic a bit harder, I'd be a mite careful with these." The warning in his voice made them shiver despite the warmth of the chamber.
"Ye see, the magic in this here gem, and her three sisters as well, is a natural type o' magic. No wizard cast an enchantment on these stones ta make 'em give light and cast powerful spells. These stones were jist as powerful the day they were taken from the Earth Mother's womb as they are today, and they'll be jist as powerful when all us mortal types are long since dust."
"But Darkmist could use them," Shay interjected, "could he not? Otherwise, why would the king express so much concern about them falling into the wrong hands?"
"Aye, that he could, lad," DoHurley admitted. "Ye see, the power o' the gems ain't good or evil. They're jist focus points between our world and other worlds. They allow energy to pass both ways. What's done with that energy is up ta whoever holds the gems. It's not like they're livin' things, ye understand, jist—"
"Conduits," Shay said. "Like lightning rods, but conducting between dimensions instead of between earth and sky."
"Exactly, me boy! Ye know, yer perty quick fer not bein' a dwarf." The old dwarf held up his hand. "Before ye go askin' me a bunch o' questions I can't answer, let me show ye a thing or two I do know about these here stones. Now watch." As DoHurley held the glowing stone in his cupped hands, he turned a slow circle. As the direction changed the gem grew brighter, then faded back to its original intensity. He slowly turned back again, and the light increased. He stopped when the gem was its brightest, glancing in triumph at the companions.
Zellohar Page 28