Serpent in the Mist

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Serpent in the Mist Page 7

by Cleave Bourbon


  “Well, yes actually; we decided long ago we would never lose each other.”

  Shila stopped in her tracks. “Oh, I get it. You two were—”

  “Don’t say it or I swear I will send you straight back home.”

  Shila grinned. “Here we are. The Eagle’s Eye Inn.”

  “That’s Eagle Eye, dear,” Lady Shey corrected.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “You said Eagle’s Eye.”

  “Whatever you say, dear lady, let’s just get a room and get some sleep. I am exhausted. I am not often this far away from home.”

  “We might have made it by midday as planned had I not been so slow.”

  “Don’t fret. You will regain all of your strength back soon enough. There are still a couple of hours of daylight left.”

  Lady Shey pushed open the double doors to the common room of the inn and waited for Shila to pass through them before entering. The room was only fairly kept. Dirty dishes still sat upon unclean tables. A lone servant waited tables and dodged wandering hands deftly. The room reeked of sweat, old food, and ale. At the rear, a long desk, with a pudgy, angry-looking man behind it, lined the wall beside a set of stairs that led to the rooms. The patrons didn’t seem to notice Lady Shey or Shila as they made their way back to the desk. Most were either drunk or simply did not care.

  “Welcome to the Eagle’s Eye. Rooms for you both?”

  Shila gave Lady Shey a smirk when the man said Eagle’s Eye. Lady Shey grinned back.

  “Mistress?” The man seemed anxious.

  “Yes, but only one room. We will make do.”

  “Aye, mistress, I will give you my best room. It just came open.”

  “Very well, Inn Keep. Might I ask if a tall gentleman with dark hair, dark facial hair, and blue eyes is staying here? He would also be wearing trousers and a white shirt.”

  “No, mistress. I can’t say that I have seen anyone of that description here. You have to know I see many people come, though, and it’s hard to keep track.”

  “I am sure you would not miss this fellow, my good man. He is somewhat difficult to ignore.”

  “I will keep an eye out for him. Here is your key. Go up the stairs and all the way back. Your room will be the last left door.”

  Lady Shey and Shila followed the inn keeper’s directions and entered their room. A foul odor immediately offended Lady Shey’s nostrils.

  “Ugh, what is that smell?” Shila commented.

  “It looks as if you and I have a bit of cleaning to do before bed.”

  “I will unpack the soap. You see if you can find some water.”

  Lady Shey nodded and took a sizable decanter from a large bowl sitting on a nearby chest of drawers. “I will be back shortly.”

  “Hold on, I will go with you. No one should venture out to the water cistern alone so close to dark.”

  “INN KEEP, AN ALE HERE.” Gondrial pointed to the rough wooden table before him. A few moments later, a portly young girl with a nice smile and blonde ponytails put a tankard before him. He took a long pull of the dark ale before he realized the girl had not moved away, her gaze questioning.

  “What? Run a tab,” Gondrial commanded.

  “No sir, no tabs for strangers. Coin or the street.” Her nice smile was curiously absent now.

  He produced a coin. “All right, all right, here you are. There is no need to get testy.”

  The portly girl took the coin without as much as a thank you.

  “You’re welcome! And yes, I will have another, thank you,” Gondrial called after her.

  Ianthill entered the common room and made his way to Gondrial’s table. “What have you found out?” he said as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

  “That the locals have little to no manners.”

  Ianthill was not amused.

  “I just got here; I haven’t gotten around to asking yet.”

  “But you managed an ale, I see.”

  “Oh, I see what you’re getting at.” He raised his hand up. “Young miss, ale for my thirsty friend here.” He pointed to Ianthill. “Don’t worry, he has plenty of coin.”

  “Well, not exactly what I had in mind, but I suppose one mug of ale couldn’t hurt.”

  “Where did Enowene go?”

  The barmaid put an ale in front of Ianthill, and he flicked her a coin. “She went down toward the Eagle Eye to see if Shey might have arrived.”

  “I just checked there about midday,” Gondrial said before taking another pull of ale.

  “That was several hours ago.”

  “So it was.” He took another drink. “It’s a long shot that Shey will be at the inn, but it’s worth trying. As resourceful as she is, we may still need to rescue her from somewhere. How long are we planning on waiting?”

  “I would think if she was captured and held, she would have escaped by now. It has been a while now since we discovered the imposter. We will not wait more than a couple of days before we enlist the help of the dragons to find her. They will take some convincing to help us, so it is preferable that Lady Shey turns up on her own.” Ianthill chuckled. “In the centuries I have known her, I have never seen anyone keep her captive longer than a few days. I remember when she was a little girl, crafty little thing, always slipping away.”

  “When we do find her, we will have to pick this inn as the new meeting place for Basillain. It is much nicer than that other rat’s nest.”

  LADY SHEY FILLED THE decanter with water from the cistern and glanced in Shila’s direction when her eyes came upon a familiar blue dress with white trim. “Enowene!” she called out. “Enowene, over here.” Enowene beamed as Lady Shey bolted across the street to embrace her. Shila was left holding the abandoned decanter.

  “Shey, I am so glad you are all right. You will have to tell me everything that happened.” Enowene grabbed ahold of Lady Shey hard by the arms; a rush of cool air blew over Lady Shey’s shoulders.

  “It is I, Enowene. What are you doing?”

  Enowene’s lips curled into a grin. “I had to be sure.” Lady Shey’s expression became blank. “I will explain it all to you as soon as I am able. For now, we must alert Ianthill and Gondrial that I have found you.”

  Lady Shey gestured to the waiting Shila. “This is Shila of the dwarven mountain realms.”

  Enowene’s face tightened. “So I see. I thought dwarves did not care to leave their mountain homes.”

  “Enowene, Shila has been very kind to me.”

  “I meant no offense. It was only a simple observation.”

  Shila managed a smile. “Don’t fret, my lady, I will answer the elf’s question. As a rule, dwarves do not leave the Jagged Mountains. I am an exception since remaining home would mean I would be expected to marry soon.”

  “You do not wish to marry?”

  “Enowene!”

  “A simple question, Shey, where is the harm in that?”

  “No, Shey, I will answer. I would think it would be obvious that I do not wish to marry, lady elf, since I stand here before you. In a manner of speaking, dwarven women are expected to be hidden away, tending to their husband’s every need. I have always been an independent sort, defiant of convention. I hope that satisfies your curiosity, for I do not need to explain myself to you. Be aware, I answer you out of courtesy.”

  Enowene’s eyebrow shot up, and Lady Shey took the opportunity to change the subject. “Where is Gondrial?”

  “I left him and Ianthill near the inn and tavern just around the corner.”

  “You left them where?” Lady Shey said with alarm.

  Enowene put her hand over her mouth. “What was I thinking? We had better hurry.” She pulled up her skirts to enable her to move freely and quickly.

  Shila looked confused. “What is the matter?”

  ”Enowene left our friends by a tavern.”

  Shila shrugged, still confused.

  “By themselves! Men!”

  “Oh.” Shila pushed Lady Shey ahead of her and after E
nowene. “Go now.”

  “How long ago did you leave them, Enowene?” Lady Shey asked.

  “Just long enough, I am afraid.” Enowene rounded the corner and made a dash for the inn. She swung the common room door open with Lady Shey and Shila on her heels. Alone in the middle of the room, Ianthill was downing a tankard with liquid spilling down the sides of his mouth. Gondrial wandered up to the door, completely missing Enowene and running directly into Lady Shey. Wild comprehension appeared on his face as he recognized her.

  “Look, Ianthill, I found her,” he proclaimed.

  “Good work, Gondrial. I knew I could count on you.”

  “Hem hem.” Enowene cleared her throat.

  “Oh, look. I found Enowene too.”

  “Oh, you are good, my boy. I didn’t even know she was lost.”

  “I am not lost, you great oaf.”

  “Uh oh, Gondrial, you started a fire in her eyes. Better come over here and have some more drink.”

  Enowene marched up to Ianthill. “I think you have had quite enough. Since when does an elf get drunk on ale so quickly?”

  “We abandoned the ale a while ago. Denit, the innkeeper over there, keeps a stock of elvish brandywine behind the counter.”

  “Well, that explains it,” Lady Shey said, giving Denit a stern glance. He slowly backed his way out of the common room through a door by the counter, cutting his eyes left and right.

  “Both of you go up to your rooms. I will deal with Denit while I set up lodging for Shey. Go on.” Enowene pushed Ianthill along and took the bottle out of Gondrial’s hand, which he had just picked up off the table.

  “We procured a room at the Eagle Eye, Enowene.”

  “No,” she said with disgust, “that place is only fit for vermin. This inn is far newer and nicer.”

  “I will need to at least go back for our things.”

  “I will send someone for your things. I am not letting you out of my sight,” Enowene said while pulling Shey into a sideways hug.

  “All these years and you are still taking care of me.”

  Enowene hugged her tighter. “You will always be that blue-eyed, dirty-faced little girl to me.”

  “By the gods, I hope not!” Lady Shey proclaimed.

  Enowene chuckled. “Here we are.” At the entryway to the inn rooms and at the rear of the common room stood a rounded counter with keys hanging on a panel, just out of reach, on the wall behind. A fair-haired young maiden stood in anticipation behind the counter.

  “I need accommodations for two more, if you please.”

  “Certainly,” the maiden replied. “We have two rooms left.” She took down two keys and handed them to Enowene, who gave them to Lady Shey and Shila. Enowene paid the maiden.

  “I will reimburse you as soon as I can get to my money at the Vale.”

  Enowene just glowered and crooked her head at her. Lady Shey knew what that look meant. “Thank you, old friend.”

  Enowene nodded. “Of course.” She turned her attention back to the counter. “Mistress, I also need a servant to retrieve some things from the Eagle Eye.”

  “At once,” the girl replied.

  A commotion at the front double doors drew their attention. A tall, dark, cloaked figure entered the common room, and someone knocked over a chair, evidently startled at the person’s sudden appearance. The cloaked man strolled toward Lady Shey while pulling off leather gloves. After he removed his gloves, he flung off his cloak and folded it neatly on his arm. The man was very well dressed in fine, mostly dark-colored, leather. His shirt appeared to be made of blue silk, and his skin was a warm brown.

  “Sanmir!” Lady Shey exclaimed, immediately embracing him in a hug.

  “My lady. You told me to be ready when the time came, and here I am.”

  “I am so glad to see you, old friend.” She motioned at Enowene. “You remember Enowene.”

  “I certainly do.” His voice became silky and smooth. He reached for her hand and kissed the top of it. “My lady.”

  “Sanmir of Darovan.” Enowene returned the greeting.

  “And this is Shila of the mountain realms.” Lady Shey motioned to her short friend.

  Sanmir reached for her hand too. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Shila made an awkward curtsy, not knowing exactly what to do.

  Sanmir gave her an odd glance and then addressed Lady Shey. “I bring news from Ianthill. He asked me to tell you to stay put here in Basillain until he arrives. Where is Gondrial? Ianthill said he sent him ahead while he made his way to Brookhaven to talk to the townsfolk.”

  “Ianthill? He is here at the inn. He and Gondrial are upstairs sleeping off too many ales,” Enowene stated.

  “That’s not possible. I left him behind in Brookhaven. He wanted to tell the village that their young ones were safe in his care.”

  “Gondrial!” Lady Shey yelped.

  One by one, they sprinted up the stairs. When they topped the stairs, they could hear furniture moving around in the room ahead. Sanmir moved like a cat ahead of the women and tried to open the door. It was locked. With lightning skill, Sanmir produced a set of lock picks from seemingly nowhere and opened the lock as if it was not there. Gondrial was on his back on the floor, holding off a Drasmyd Duil as it tried to drip its acidic goo onto his face. Sanmir moved in a blur. Three daggers sailed through the air and pierced the black skin of the creature, almost in unison. The creature convulsed once and then collapsed. Gondrial threw it off him and leaped to his feet.

  “I had it! I only needed a few more seconds.”

  “Looked to me like it had you,” Sanmir said.

  Lady Shey ran to Gondrial and threw her arms around him.

  “I’m okay, Shey.”

  Anger welled up on Enowene’s face. “We have to do something about this! These Drasmyd Duil have none of the tells of the old days. No stench, no character flaws, and no physical flaws. It is as if they are true copies. We need to be able to make them out.”

  “It seems to me they have perfected their craft,” Shila observed.

  “What’s all this fuss about?” Ianthill said from the doorway. He still appeared to be inebriated and slurred his words. He carried a washcloth in his hands. He looked at the creature on the floor. “Heh, look Gondrial, a dead Shadow Lurker.”

  Sanmir drew his remaining daggers, and Ianthill looked startled. “Wait a moment, old friend, tell me what’s happening.”

  “I left you in Brookhaven. You couldn’t have beaten me here.” He held the daggers in a position to stab.

  Ianthill reached into his pocket. Sanmir lunged slightly, and Ianthill quickly produced a stone. “It’s a gift from Bren. It’s his personal Lora Daine. It can only take one person along and only for a short distance, but it can span Brookhaven to Basillain.” He turned the stone over with his fingers, dropped it, and then picked it up again. “Why do you think I was able to send Gondrial ahead?” He looked at the creature again. “Oh, you thought I was the Shadow Lurker.”

  Lady Shey looked Gondrial over for wounds. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so,” he replied. “I woke up to that thing in my face.” He pointed to the creature. “I didn’t think it took Ianthill’s form. I vaguely remember Ianthill stumbling out the door beforehand.”

  “Whose form did it take then?” Enowene inquired.

  Sanmir bent down for a closer look. “I don’t think it took the form of anyone we know.” He looked at Gondrial. “I believe it was here to assume the visage of Gondrial. It would have succeeded if we hadn’t become suspicious. We were wrong, but as it turns out, it was a lucky coincidence.”

  “That is quite enough!” Enowene huffed. “I am sick and tired of being fooled by these foul creatures. Shey, you and I have some work to do. It’s time to find out how we can detect these things and keep our people safe.”

  Lady Shey nodded. “I need to find us a place to work.”

  Shila stepped up. “I am familiar with Basillain. I know o
f a place. I have a friend with a large, empty storeroom not far from here. She will let us take the creature there.”

  “Excellent. Let’s get this thing out of here. Boys, can you lend us a hand?”

  Gondrial, Sanmir, and Ianthill wrapped the creature in a sheet and prepared to carry it out.

  “We will slip out the back,” Enowene said.

  The party carefully exited down the back stairs and slipped out the back door. They had not taken more than three steps away from the inn when they stopped cold. Ahead, coming out of the darkness in numbers, were Dramyds, followed here and there by Drasmyd Duil.

  Enowene grimaced. “Oh, for the love of hearth and home!”

  Chapter 8: Secrets and Lies

  Trendan knelt close to the ground, surveying the broken twigs and crushed prairie grass. “They have been this way, and fairly recently.”

  “They?” Fayne asked.

  “Two of them, one female and one male.”

  “Are you certain it is her trail and not someone else’s?”

  “Positive. I recognize her step. These are definitely the footsteps of Kimala. She is trying to hide them. See that tuft of grass?” He pointed to a small tuft of grass hastily thrown over one of the footprints. Fayne tried her best to look appreciative. She nodded her head, all the while trying to stifle a smile.

  Trendan looked up at her face and took a breath. “But, I see you already know.” He straightened, and his face became rigid as stone.

  “Oh, don’t get angry.”

  “I’m not angry. I just wish you didn’t get such amusement from watching me track. I should just let you do it from now on.”

  “Why not? I can track just as well.”

  Trendan did not reply.

  Fayne sniffed the air. “There is a peculiar smell in the air. Do you smell it?”

  Trendan sniffed. “Aye, it is reminiscent of burnt cedar.”

  “Do you think someone has a campfire nearby?”

  “Perhaps, but it isn’t heavy in the air like a campfire would be, unless it is far upwind. We should get moving.” Trendan began surveying the land and trees for signs of smoke.

  “That smell, I can’t quite place it,” Fayne repeated.

 

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