“The short version is I have interests in this village. The townsfolk aren’t used to seeing lords and ladies here. I would draw too much attention to observe what I need to observe. I wanted to intercept you here before you saw me inside unaware.”
“I see. You didn’t want me calling out your true name in public.”
She put the tip of her finger on the tip of her nose and winked.
“Fear not, I will keep to the secret.”
“I apologize for not letting you know sooner, but you seemed preoccupied before we left Old Symbor.”
“I was. I am not sure what came over me. I was so tired and fearful of every shadow. I went to a friend’s house in Cedar Falls. She is a cleric of Loracia.”
“And she channeled some healing for you?”
“Aye, and I feel much better now. No more fatigue.”
“Good. Let’s not linger here too long,” she said. “I was about to get something to eat at the inn. Why don’t you get checked in, and I will find Sylvalora and Geron. I am certain you must be hungry from the road.”
They entered the common room of the inn together. Lady Shey was immediately awestruck by the intricate mural of a giant tiger’s head painted on the ceiling. Other than the mural, the common room looked about like any other she had seen, tables and chairs arranged in rows over a hardwood floor and a wood-trimmed bar along the back of the room for the maidens waiting on tables. A portion of the back bar doubled as a receiving desk for patrons in need of lodging.
Lyrrath went to the back desk to get a room, and Shey looked for a place to sit. As she searched around the room, she was surprised to spot Sylvalora and Geron. She waited for Lyrrath to return, and then she suggested they join the other two.
Just moments after they were seated and their orders for food were taken, Gondrial strolled in and directly located their table. Lady Shey could tell that at first Gondrial didn’t recognize her. He had only seen Sylvalora. It wasn’t until he sat down and introduced himself to Shey that recognition finally dawned on him.
“I am called Minda,” Lady Shey said before he could get her name out. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Charmed,” Gondrial said, kissing her hand.
Shey leaned in and whispered to him. “I thought you got kicked out of here?”
“Kicked out, aye, but not banned. I was asked to leave actually. I am free to dine here,” he whispered back.
“You know Lyrrath, do you not?” Sylvalora asked Gondrial.
“We have met.” He extended his hand. “How are you, Lyrrath?”
“I’m well.”
Sylvalora then indicated Geron. “This is Alwin, Minda’s son.”
Gondrial extended his hand to the boy, and they shook hands. Gondrial’s expression soured. He yanked back his hand as if it was just in a fire. “I don’t know where you all found this boy, but the kid’s evil.” He put his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“What are you doing?” Lady Shey whispered so loud she could have just said it in a normal tone.
“Look at him! That’s not a boy; it’s some kind of . . . of freak!”
“Gondrial!” Sylvalora said.
Lady Shey moved to Geron’s defense as Gondrial stood to unsheathe his sword. For a moment, Geron seemed to flicker between a hideous black creature and the boy she knew. She shrieked, taken aback. The boy jolted up from his seat and hissed at Gondrial. In a flash, he weaved through the common room tables and was out the front door. Lyrrath was the first to chase after him.
Lady Shey grabbed ahold of Gondrial’s arm. “How did you know?”
“I caught a glimpse of him when we shook hands. His illusion must have been weakening. He held it too long. How long has he been with you? Drasmyd Duil can only keep up an illusion for a short period.”
“How can he be a Drasmyd Duil? There was no feted stench or any of the other signs,” Shey said.
“I don’t know. I am about to find out. Lyrrath will catch him.” He left the common room. Lady Shey and Sylvalora decided to follow.
Geron ran behind the inn and headed for the cover of a few trees with dense bushes scattered around the thick trunks. He went ahead and let the illusion of the boy shift to his true form. He smacked his maw; it was good not to have to twist it into the flattened human form. His black scales glistened in the sunlight, so he used his ability to blend into the color of the bushes. He cursed himself for not renewing his changed form sooner. The one called Gondrial had only seen him because of carelessness; otherwise the illusion was flawless and he would never have been detected.
He watched the inn intently from his position in the bushes. It appeared that only the one called Lyrrath pursued him. That would be a mistake. He conjured up bile from his stomach and held it in his mouth until Lyrrath was close enough, and then he leaped from the bushes and spit the acidic bile into Lyrrath’s eyes and face. The man started to scream, but it quickly died off into a sickening gurgle. Geron used his claws to stab the man in the chest repeatedly until he had soundly defeated him. He dragged the dead Lyrrath into the bushes. He used more of the black bile and kept coughing it up until he could cover the entire body with it. He watched with satisfaction as the body dissolved into the ground.
The Drasmyd Duil glanced up to see that Gondrial, Sylvalora, and Shey had exited the inn and were searching nearby. He concentrated on his memory of Lyrrath and touched a fragment of bone that was still dissolving. The creature’s face and body twisted and contorted into the perfect form of the dead man. He spit once more on the corpse to dissolve the rest of the clothing, and stood up.
“Hey, over here. I caught up with it.” His voice mimicked Lyrrath’s exactly.
Gondrial, Lady Shey, and Sylvalora hurried to him.
“There.” He pointed to the putrid body dissolving into the ground. “I cast essence on him and stopped him, but when I caught up to him, he started doing that.”
Shey turned into Gondrial’s arms.
Sylvalora went down to one knee. “I have never seen anything like this before. It seems he killed himself off.”
“This is new. If he is a Drasmyd Duil, he is not one I have ever encountered before,” Gondrial said.
Sylvalora touched the tip of her finger to the ground, and it sizzled. She reached in her pocket and found a handkerchief. She concentrated on the fabric, and it glowed briefly with power. She used it to scoop up some of the liquid, dirt and all.
“What are you going to do with that?” Lyrrath asked.
“Take it to Sanmir. The Darovan elves have encountered a few creatures foreign to us here. He may have some idea of what it is we’re dealing with.” She took the sample and started walking toward the inn.
“It’s horrible. We have had that thing with us since Valwall,” Shey said.
Gondrial kept his arm around Shey’s shoulder. “Come on, we will go to Sanmir’s shop too.”
Shey nodded.
“I am going to the inn to wash off. I think I got some of that . . . whatever it is on me. I will meet you at Sanmir’s shop,” Lyrrath said.
Lyrrath knew he had to complete his mission now, this moment, in case he was caught again. What if Sanmir knew how to detect him? He hurried to the inn and went inside. He made his way back to the bar at the back of the room and waited until he heard the name he was after. The big, balding man in the white apron behind the counter finally called it out. The boy named Dorenn appeared. The bald man sent him to the storeroom for a keg of ale. Lyrrath waited for his moment and then followed the boy. He took the stone he had retrieved in the dungeons beneath the White Tower from his pocket and cast it, striking him in the back. A purplish flame covered Dorenn, and he fell to the floor. Lyrrath slinked away and watched Dorenn get back up before he went back to the common room.
That should suppress his ability to draw essence, he thought, and if he does draw it in, he will have a sickness he will not soon recover from or forget! Lyrrath walked through the common room. From Lyrrath’s memories, the creature thoug
ht of how Dorenn might behave if he did get essence sickness. A bit whiny and even a bit annoying, perhaps? The creature who was Lyrrath laughed to himself as he left the inn to join the others at Sanmir’s shop.
Chapter 11: No Rest for the Dead
When they entered his shop, Lady Shey and Gondrial found Sanmir examining the contents of the handkerchief Sylvalora had given him. He was so intent that he didn’t even look up when the small bell above his door jingled the arrival of potential customers. After a few moments, he retrieved an eyeglass and fastened it over his right eye.
He held the fabric and its contents up close to his eyeglass. “I will need to examine it in more detail and perform some experiments, but I believe it’s a potent acid of some kind. I have some counter agents and salves that can negate it.”
“There is no need for that. This was the boy who was traveling with us. Apparently, he was a shapeshifter, a form of Drasmyd Duil, perhaps. Have you seen anything like this before?” Sylvalora asked.
“Well . . . in Darovan, there is a species of flying Dramyd that spits acid similar to this, some kind of cross between a drake and a desert lizard called a Firomanx. However, my people have supposedly killed off the brood.”
“That doesn’t mean the line could not have been reintroduced. There is evidence that Toborne and Naneden have continued the experiments of Kambor,” Gondrial said.
Sanmir took off his eyeglass. “Kambor, the Oracle? He has been dead since the war.”
Lady Shey sighed. “We have seen evidence he may just be dormant somewhere in the Sacred Land, revitalizing with the Sacred Land.”
“I see. So that’s why you came disguised for my report on the descendants of Ardenia. You have been reading the scattered, disjointed sketches of prophesy.”
“Scattered and disjointed is correct. No one has ever taken the ramblings of Morgoran or the writings of the defeated Oracle seriously enough to research and record a true prophesy. Nevertheless, we are investigating all the possibilities.”
“As you should be. What does Ianthill think?”
Gondrial chuckled. “We haven’t gotten that far yet. I sure he still knows very little. I will send him a report as soon as I am able.”
Sanmir put the handkerchief back down on the counter. “As far as I can tell, you brought this danger here with you. I have had no reports of Drasmyd Duil or Dramyds around Brookhaven. I shall double my efforts on watching Dorenn and his friends. It is possible this creature saw something or heard something. He might have made some kind of report before he died.”
The bell above the door jingled, and Lyrrath walked in.
“Not likely,” Sylvalora said. “He was in my sight the entire time.”
Sanmir turned his attention to Lyrrath. “I understand you are the one who happened upon this creature. What happened?”
Lyrrath cleared his throat. “I chased the boy out behind the inn. I used essence and stopped him in his tracks near where he fell. When I caught up to him, he was spewing this substance from his mouth, and the rest of his body oozed it until he dissolved right before my eyes.”
“You used magic here? A bold move considering the Enforcers are often seen around here,” Sanmir said.
“I had to do something. I am not as young as I used to be. I couldn’t let the boy get away.”
Lady Shey was disgusted after hearing the details of the chase. “Enough. I don’t want to discuss this anymore. I had grown fond of the boy, regardless, and I can’t take hearing this again.” She shoved off Gondrial, who was trying to offer comfort, and headed for the door. “It’s been a long day. I am going to find the inn mistress, get some overpriced elvish wine, and go to my room.”
Sylvalora smoothed down her robes. “I think I will join her.”
As soon as Sylvalora left the shop, Gondrial locked the door behind her and let the cloth shade fall with the word closed printed on the outside of it.
“Gondrial, it isn’t—”
“You’re closed!” He pulled a bottle of mountain-distilled whiskey out from under his leather vest.
“Aye, I believe I am. I will get the glasses.”
“Pull up a chair, if you can find one, Lyrrath. It’s time to leave your worries at the door and float on the whiskey river.”
After breakfast, Lady Shey decided it was time to leave before someone realized she no longer had a son. It was time to get back to Soldier’s Bluff and Rodraq. The only danger in Brookhaven was the danger she had brought with her. Ianthill was right; Sanmir was a fine choice for guardian, and the Darovan elf enjoyed being the village apothecary. At the stables, she watched Gondrial fumble with his bridle, obviously recuperating from last night’s drink. It was probably a good thing to get him away from Brookhaven as well, before he did more damage than good. Behind Gondrial, an unusually quiet Lyrrath prepared his horse.
“Are you ready to ride out, Minda?” Sylvalora asked.
“I’m ready, Aurelie.”
Shey thought by having Sylvalora ride out of the village with her that anyone who remembered her riding with someone might forget it was originally a little boy. After they put some distance between them and Brookhaven, she relaxed. Gondrial and Lyrrath were to catch up with them after Watch Hill.
It was late afternoon, nearly evening, when the four of them reached the sprawling town of Soldier’s Bluff. They rode directly to the Sea and Ale Inn, where they found Rodraq having his supper in the common room after they had their horses stabled and their things taken up to their rooms. Shey and Sylvalora were still dressed in their plain clothing. Almost immediately after supper, Lyrrath excused himself, so the remaining four went out into the private balcony to fill in Rodraq on the events of Brookhaven and discuss their next move.
Rodraq drew heavily on his pipe and let the white smoke drift from his lips. “I noticed the boy didn’t come in the common room with you. I thought maybe he had been held up stabling his horse or something, at first.”
Gondrial must have seen the distress on Shey’s face. “This has become a sore subject for Lady Shey, Rodraq. I think she would rather move away from it.”
Shey nodded.
“Forgive me, my lady, I wasn’t thinking,” Rodraq said.
Gondrial took out his pipe and began to fill it. “I’m going to have to visit the tabac shop tomorrow. I’m nearly out.”
“Soldier’s Bluff has some fine blends from the fields near here.”
“I have heard. I am looking forward to trying some.”
“Go ahead, Gondrial. I know you want to. I don’t mind this time,” Shey said.
Gondrial was confused. “The shops are closed, and I still have some of my tabac from Symbor.”
“No, not the tabac. I saw you eyeing the ale drafts on the way up. Why don’t you and Rodraq go and get you a pint and bring it up here. In fact, I think Sylvalora and I would enjoy an elvish wine as well.”
“I knew there had to be an ulterior motive,” Gondrial said.
“Are you complaining?” Shey asked, sitting up slightly in her seat.
“Oh no, no, I’m not. Come on, Rodraq.”
The warrior put his pipe down on the wooden arm of his chair. “You’ll watch this for me?”
“Aye, we won’t let it get away,” Shey said.
“What did you want to say to me?” Sylvalora said as soon as Rodraq left.
“What?” Shey said absently.
“I thought you sent the boys away on purpose, to talk to me in private, perhaps.”
“No, not this time. After the events in Brookhaven, I thought the last thing I needed to be was ridged and controlling. Let the men relax and have some fun for a little while.”
“Sheyna Namear, you are not fooling me. You know something or feel something. Is it about the boy?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. When Ianthill took over for Morgoran as my master, he tried to tell me a day would come when the Sacred Land would renew its power and there would be a struggle to get at that power. I just didn’t know I would b
e so vested in all of it. A guardian of the descendants of my best friend, a master wielder, now may be a mentor. Dark days are ahead, and I thought maybe Gondrial, Lyrrath, and Rodraq could use some slack before they become frontline soldiers.”
Gondrial and Rodraq returned with two pints, a bottle of wine, and two wine glasses. To be polite, Gondrial opened and poured the wine before he took his seat and resumed preparing his smoking pipe. He turned his padded seat to face out over the balcony. He was about to light his pipe when he saw Lyrrath walk from the rear of the inn toward a heavily wooded area.
“Shey, is that Lyrrath?” He pointed to the man walking across the rear lawn of the inn.
“I do believe it is,” Lady Shey agreed. “Shall I call to him?”
“No, let him go. I want to see where he ends up.”
Rodraq squinted to see in the dark. “Did he go into the woods? I wish I had your elvish eyesight!”
Gondrial got up from his chair. “He is about to go into the woods, and he is stopping to look around. That’s not the look of a man who is out for a night stroll; that’s the look of a man who is checking to see if he is being followed.”
Lady Shey gasped as Gondrial flipped over the balcony and carefully climbed down the rock-sided building to the ground. “Be careful, you fool,” she said.
“I will be right back,” he whispered up to her.
They all hurried to the edge of the balcony to watch Gondrial silently stalk across the lawn and enter into the woods at the precise spot Lyrrath entered.
Gondrial caught up to Lyrrath and followed him deeper into the woods. He remembered the overly cautious and paranoid Lyrrath and wondered why it was suddenly so easy to follow him. The Lyrrath he knew would have known he was on his heels. Gondrial refrained from drawing in essence to cloak himself from the other man’s perceptions. Since Lyrrath was also a wielder, he might detect the flow of power around him this close. Being half-elven, Gondrial was pretty light on his feet, anyway, when he needed to be. He came within listening distance and promptly found a place to hide and listen. Who is Lyrrath talking to anyway? Himself?
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