by Guy Antibes
“Myra? What does she have to do with anything?”
Helen shrugged. “Evidently, Addio had the other guards who followed us help her escape from the monastery. So Addio, Ferrio, and Myra are headed for Grishel’s Cavern. At least we weren’t injured too badly.”
Penny snorted and pointed to Jack. “I had to save him, this time,” she said, planting the tip of her sword in the ground, but she did say, “I couldn’t finish the fight.”
She gave Jack a plaintive look. Was that an apology? Jack thought.
“This one is still alive,” Carlo said, kneeling by Barria’s opponent.
Penny ran to his side and did what she could.
“What is Addio’s plan?” Helen asked.
“He wanted to leave the monastery in style,” the man said, coughing. He seemed to be struggling for breath. “He talked us into joining him, but it wasn’t the right thing to do. Grishel has had his revenge.” The man let out a long exhale and relaxed.
“With Ferrio and Myra, that made nine,” Jack said. “Addio has Ferrio and Myra to help him take over the Black Fingers.”
“They won’t attack us with you by our side,” Helen said. She slid off the cart’s bed and held onto the side for a few steps before walking to her horse. “You thought I was at the inn? They laughed that you would fall for the trick.”
“Why would you bypass us on the road?” Jack asked. “I armored up after I groomed my horse and a good thing I did. Addio can throw bolts, but not very strong ones.”
Penny began to work on his arm. “Poor boy,” she said with mock sympathy.
Jack looked at her and then back at Helen. Villagers began to gather around them. “Let’s get back to the inn and try to gather some information about the cavern.”
~
The five travelers met in the common room after helping clean up under the angry eyes of the innkeeper, angry now that he wasn’t in any danger.
Jack frowned as he folded his arms. “We won’t be sneaking anywhere now, plus we have three enemies out to get us.”
Helen grunted. “It won’t be just three. We might have all the Black Fingers to contend with.”
The innkeeper served them the ale that they ordered and sat down with them. His angry face had changed to a concerned one. “What is it between the old monk and the Black Fingers?”
“The monk is going to join them,” Carlo said. “He never wanted us to reach Grishel’s Cavern. I think he always intended to kill us with his band of ex-Grishelian guards, but now he’s down to a hawk-sect priest and a disgraced eagle-sect priestess.”
“He intimated that he was going to take over the Black Finger Society,” Barria said.
The innkeeper grunted. “His arrival won’t be met with much enthusiasm. Most of us in this region are partial to the Black Finger Society. They have been good customers of ours and haven’t tried to overstep in any way. I understand it is different in Corand.”
“A little different, but it was worse in Tesoria before the king was deposed, and it is much, much worse in Kadellia,” Jack said.
“You are well informed for a boy,” the innkeeper said.
“Helen and I were in Tesoria when the Black Finger Society tried to take over Gameton, the capital. I live in Corand, so I know something about what goes on there.”
“You say it is worse in Kadellia? Do you have proof?”
“The usurper who killed King Kaleen was a Kadellian Black Finger, and Kadellian forces were in Gameton when the final conflict happened,” Jack said.
“He’s right,” Helen said. “We were there together with a small group of people supporting King Larkin.”
The innkeeper shrugged. “I’ll have to take your word for it. I told the village council that you people didn’t start the conflict today.”
“Do you know any Black Finger Society members we can talk to?” Helen asked. “They should be warned about Addio’s motives.”
The innkeeper nodded. “I can do that.”
A group of dirty-looking men walked in.
“Customers from the local farms. They head for here right after they stop for the day. I need to serve them. I will get back to you tonight or by breakfast tomorrow.”
Jack sat back and took a sip of his ale. His gaze turned to Helen. “What should we do?”
“I can draw the map,” Penny said. “I still remember most of it.”
Helen left them and returned with a map of terrain from Virora to Fassira. She flipped it over and handed a worn pencil to Penny. “Go to it.”
Penny went to work. Jack wasn’t about to distract her. She sketched the terrain lightly. While the wizard’s apprentice worked, Jack looked at the tables the farmers and farmhands, he guessed, occupied. The men were laughing and telling stories. Other than the dirt on their hands and faces, they could have been men in Raker Falls spending time in either of the two pubs.
He recognized a shock of homesickness overcome him. Jack wished that he were back in Raker Falls with Fasher and Tanner. Corina didn’t yet have a place in Raker Falls in Jack’s mind, but she was welcome. He found himself envious of the easy way the men talked. They had no claustral prior or patriarch to chase. They couldn’t care less who ran Passoran all the way to the west edge of the country. It was much the same in Raker Falls, yet somehow, Raker Falls seemed a bit more civilized and a bit more comfortable than this village. He sighed.
Barria poked Jack. “Don’t stare. They might find it offensive.”
Jack shook his musings out of his head. “I was just thinking of back home for a minute there. Those men are comfortable with each other.”
“Because they are all filthy,” Barria said.
Jack thought a follow-up comment slamming the farmers would follow, but Barria said, “They are comfortably filthy.” She put her hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I wish Sammo was with us. He would make Carlo and I feel more at ease.” Barria took a deep breath. “Well, we are where we are, and there are more adventures that await us, thanks to you, Jack Winder.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
Carlo chuckled, and Penny’s head shot up. Her face twisted with disgust or some other emotion Jack couldn’t detect.
“I only did what was necessary,” Jack said.
Helen laughed softly. “He always does what he thinks is necessary. Sometimes it gets us into trouble.”
“Jack Trouble Winder,” Barria said with a cheery voice. “You should have that for a middle name.”
“Jack Lack-of-Judgement Winder,” Penny said. One side of her mouth curled into a smile.
Carlo tapped his finger on the table. “Jack Charge-into-the-Fray Winder.”
“I already have a name for him. Jack Onion-Boy Winder. That suits him the best.” Helen folded her arms and sat back.
Jack smiled at them all. “It sure is good not to have a middle name then, but Helen is right. I am the onion boy. That puts me in my place better than any other.” He looked down at Penny’s work. “It looks like you are about done.”
“I am. Any changes I make to it now will be guesses,” Penny said, sitting back and exercising her fingers after dropping the pencil on the map.
Jack leaned over. “It looks like we are a little farther away than I thought. Do you have any idea what the scale is?”
Penny frowned. “I don’t know. I just duplicated what Addio showed us.”
A serving maid came with their food.
Penny showed her the map. “Does this look right to you?”
The young woman giggled. “I guess so. You could turn that upside down, and I’d give you the same answer. I’ve never really left the village,” she said, turning red.
“Don’t mind her,” the innkeeper said, looking over Carlo’s shoulder. “That looks about right to me. Grishel’s Cavern is about twenty miles away. If anything, it is shorter. There is a Black Finger-run Grishel monastery a little closer. About right here. The road to it isn’t on your map.” The innkeeper leaned over a bit more and drew a line farther into the mou
ntains. “If you truly are looking for the feather, I think it might be there rather than the cavern, but,” he shrugged, “what do I know.”
“More than us, obviously,” Helen said. “Any luck locating a Black Finger to talk to?”
“Working on it. It will probably be tomorrow morning. Are you looking to take some food supplies?”
“We are working on it,” Jack said, smiling.
“He means yes,” Helen said. “Probably two meals for the five of us. Can you manage that?”
The innkeeper grinned. “That is what I am in business for.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
~
J ack and Carlo walked down into the common room together. Helen, Barria, and Penny looked across a table at a tall sandy-haired man somewhere between Fasher and Tanner’s age. Jack was happy for once that the man wore gloves.
The man stood when Jack and Carlo arrived. Helen told the men to sit down.
“This is Rucco Simmia,” Helen said. “The tall boy is Jack Winder, and this is Barria’s brother, Carlo.”
Carlo bowed, so Jack followed him instead of taking Rucco’s outstretched hand. Rucco looked like he was used to the reaction, so he bowed back.
“You are a Black Finger Society member?” Jack asked, waving his fingers at the man.
Rucco pulled off a glove, showing clean fingers. “I am, but I don’t like the theatrics others enjoy.”
“My fingers have been black before,” Jack said, “but conversion spells don’t work well on me. I’m better at cleansing the spell, I need to say.”
Rucco laughed softly. “So Helen Rafter said. Most of us in the Passoranian extension of the society actually feel more like you do, Jack. We don’t need to convert members because our numbers grow as much as we’d like without resorting to having to coerce others to join.”
“What about the Black Finger Society Grishel monks?” Jack asked.
“You don’t play around, do you?” Rucco smiled as he looked down at Penny’s map. “The converts the monks desire are those dedicated to Grishel before the society. You will find them friendly.” He turned to Helen and then to Jack. “Helen wanted to wait to tell me about those who created the ruckus yesterday.”
Jack nodded. “You have heard of Addio Barumi, the claustral prior at the Ullori monastery?”
Rucco shook his head. “I’m not a monk. He was the leader?”
“He seeks to take over the Black Finger Society in Passoran,” Penny said. “He is aided by a hawk priest turned outlaw and a disgraced eagle-sect priestess.”
“Eagle, you say?” Rucco frowned. “That won’t go over well at the cavern or the abbey. We call it an abbey, not a monastery, by the way. I assume he won’t be introduced that way.”
“Ferrio is the hawk priest,” Barria said. “A snake if I ever met one. I didn’t get a chance to meet the woman, Myra Pulini. Jack or Helen can tell you about her.”
Helen took over for a few minutes describing Myra’s misdeeds during their errand.
“Do you know where Grishel’s Feather is?” Penny asked.
“Is that what you are after?” Rucco looked over at the innkeeper. “Baldo wouldn’t tell me what your business was with the society.”
“You didn’t tell him?” Jack asked of Helen.
Helen turned a little red. “I waited for you, Jack.”
Jack told Rucco about the strange illness and Fasher’s insistence that the feather was the only way to heal the afflicted villagers.
“You can promise to return it?” Rucco said.
“We’ve made that promise twice already, but I will tell you, we are not bound by those. If we need to make another promise, we will, or you can have someone join us so they can take it back when we are finished,” Jack said.
An offer for a Black Finger to join them was impulsive. He regretted the proposal immediately, but Rucco said, “That may decide the success of your acquiring the feather.”
The rest of breakfast consisted of telling the beginning of the story and ended with the previous day’s fight.
Rucco stood up. “I will accompany you if that is permissible. I was visiting my ailing father, who lives in the village, and I will need to say my farewells before we leave. In two hours?”
Helen and Barria nodded before Jack could. “We will see you then,” Helen said.
Penny stood. “I am a wizard healer’s apprentice. Can your father use my help?”
Rucco blinked his eyes in surprise. “It would do him good to see a pretty girl. Come along.”
“I will accompany her,” Jack said.
Rucco bowed to Jack. “Of course. I was about to suggest one of you accompany Penny.”
The three of them left the inn and headed east away from the road. Rucco’s father lived in a row of ten old people’s cottages, all alike, all in a row like soldiers waiting for inspection. The Black Finger took them to the fourth one and knocked on the door before entering.
“I brought some friends,” Rucco called out as he opened the door to a crack.
“Bring ‘em in. I’ve got my clothes on, so don’t worry.”
An old man sat at a fire stroking a fat orange cat sitting on his lap. He looked up with rheumy eyes. He sat up a little straighter. “Young people. Not Black Fingers?”
“No. They are travelers. The girl is an apprentice to a healing wizard. I thought she could take a look at you before I return to Grishel’s Cavern.”
“You and your society,” the man said disapprovingly. “Well, I’m not going to turn away such a lovely face. Come in, come in.”
“What ails you?” Penny asked.
The old man snorted. “What doesn’t?”
“Then what is the worst?”
“Some days, I can’t get up enough energy to get out of bed. I don’t like those days.” He looked at his son. “I hate to have Rucco have to clean up after me.”
Penny raised her eyebrows at the comment. “I’m not sure I can help you with anything like that. I’m sorry.”
Jack smiled. “I can. Have you got some wooden or metal rods? Something I can toss some magical power into?”
“What?” Rucco said. “You can make objects of power?”
“That is about the only thing I do that helps Penny and Fasher Tempest heal people.” Jack turned back to the old man. “If you grasp onto the rods I charge up, it might give you just enough energy so you can enjoy your day a little better.”
“The boy has a way with words,” the old man said.
“Rarely,” Penny said under her breath.
Rucco gathered some cut branches for firewood and some metal trinkets around the house. “You can really charge these?”
“I’m a wizard’s helper,” Jack said. “I have the power, but I’ve been trying to go slow with the knowledge. It will take me an hour to get all these working. I have no idea how long the power lasts or how much power they will lend your father. He should see a proper healer for any internal issues. Even Fasher Tempest, my mentor, gives a lot of internal things to our village healer. Wizards are good for—”
“I know. Injuries,” Rucco said. “I’ve asked for one of the society’s healers to come, but they tell me the same thing.”
Jack looked at the old man talking to Penny and holding her hand. Rucco’s father seemed to enjoy the experience.
Jack enjoyed the work. He found it a bit faster to get the various items turned into objects of power tuned for healing the way Fasher had taught him, and he was done before Rucco walked into the main room of the cottage with his bags. The old man was still keeping Penny occupied with conversation.
“Time to go,” I’m afraid,” Rucco said. “I’ll be back in another five or six weeks, father. You’re back to having your two daughters help until then.”
The old man scowled. “None will give me the time of day like this young lady.” He turned to Jack. “What do I do with what you’ve done?”
“I know,” Penny said. “Use one up before you take another. That way, you
will know when they are all depleted of energy. You don’t need to invoke a spell, just hold onto it and feel the energy seep through your hand.”
“Easy enough.” The old man looked up at Rucco, who carried a bag along with the backpack strapped to his shoulders. “You take care of yourself and these two. I warned her that all Black Fingers don’t think alike, but I told her that you are one of the better ones. Don’t disappoint me,” he said.
They said their goodbyes. Jack and Penny stood outside the door while father and son had a few moments to each other. Rucco emerged smiling, looking at the morning sun.
“I left him with a stick in his hand. He could feel the energy flow into him. Father told me he would save them for when he wakes, so he can get going in the morning. Thank you for your help.”
“I didn’t end up doing anything,” Penny said.
Rucco laughed as they made their way out of the little lane. “Oh, you did. He will be talking about your visit to him for weeks to come. I’m sure of that. He wanted to pay for your help, but I told him we are in the midst of an exchange of services. Father made me promise to help you get your feather.” Rucco smiled, but he looked pensive. “I always make good on my promises to him.”
~
The abbey was nestled in a little valley surrounded by hills that wanted to be mountains, it seemed to Jack. They were craggy with steep cliffs, but none of the peaks were particularly high. Green pastures were dotted with clusters of white dots. Sheep, thought Jack. Vines covered a few south-facing slopes. Wine and mutton, Jack thought. The monks would be eating well.
Grishel worship and the Black Finger Society didn’t seem to go together. Jack wondered how the monks reconciled the two competing philosophies. Alderach and Eldora didn’t seem to approve of the Black Finger Society. Jack never met a Takian priest during his time in Lajia, so he didn’t know for sure about that country and religion.
They were about to find out how the abbey and the cavern worked together. Rucco hadn’t been particularly free with his description of how the Black Finger Society was set up in Passoran, but they were definitely more tolerant than any other branch of the organization. Perhaps that was why the abbey could worship Grishel and stay within the circle of the Black Finger Society.