by A. C. Cobble
Milo shifted in his seat. “He didn’t tell me everything, but the Librarian taught me a little,” responded Milo.
“Like what?” asked Amelie.
Milo held out his hand. Ben sipped his ale and watched. He nearly choked on it when a soft glow formed in Milo’s palm. Milo quickly closed his hand and extinguished the light.
“I think what is more relevant to you, the Librarian was concerned,” said Milo. “He was gravely concerned about the buildup of demons in the Wilds. He knew better than anyone that eventually the buildup would overwhelm Rhymer and his men. Northport would be lost. All of Alcott could be lost. He considered closing the Rift himself, but he deemed it too dangerous. One of his colleagues was murdered, and after that, the Librarian was the last of the Purple alive in Alcott. It’s why he brought me on, I think, to transfer the knowledge that only he knew. His hand was forced early though, when you destroyed the Rift. He thought there would be more time, more time to train me, more time to share his knowledge.”
Ben sat back, stunned at the revelation. Everything they had spent the last months working for was vanishing into the air.
“You are certain there are no more Purple left, no hidden repositories of information?” asked Towaal.
Milo shrank under her piercing gaze. “The Librarian was sure there were no more left in alive in Alcott. They were old men, a dying breed.”
“What do you mean, left in Alcott?” asked Amelie softly.
Shrugging, Milo responded, “That is what the Librarian told me.”
“What were his exact words?” asked Towaal sharply.
Milo shrank into himself, cowering before their intense stares. “Those were his words,” he stated in a whisper.
Towaal drew the scroll and placed it on the table. Ben could see where the purple ties had been discarded. She’d studied the thing while they were sleeping.
“I was unsure of what to make of this at first, but with what you are telling us, I believe it makes sense when considered with what I learned in Northport’s library.” She unrolled the scroll. “There were two factions within the Purple. The first felt that the most effective way to combat the demons was to contain them and then systematically pick them off. They created the Rift, placed it in an area that was easily monitored, and then formed the system of hunters who were able to keep the population manageable. The second faction of the Purple felt a more permanent solution was necessary. They wanted to build a weapon that could, once and for all, eliminate the demon threat. The factions disagreed. The first said the weapon was too dangerous, too powerful if it fell in the wrong hands. The second wanted to proceed with their research.”
“The theory in the book about tapping the power between our world and the demon world, is that from the second faction?” guessed Ben.
Rhys gestured to a serving woman. “We’ll need more ale,” he said coarsely. “Bring pitchers. Keep them coming.”
Towaal waited for the woman to leave and then continued, “Yes, that could be the weapon. Their research was expensive and dangerous. They needed someone to fund them and ensure they’d have a safe place to work. The first faction, the Librarian’s faction, did not trust the second. They forced them to leave.”
Ben blinked. “The scroll says where they left to?”
Towaal touched a finger to the scroll. “This scroll is a message from the Librarian to the Coalition Council.”
Milo’s eyes flashed. He made as if to grab the document.
Towaal kept her hand on it. “It’s dated two and a half years ago, long before our adventure started. Even then, as Milo said, it appears the Librarian was worried about the increase in the demon population. Even then, he worried it would come to destroying the Rift. He said he was contacting the most powerful mages he could locate in Alcott, though, he only identifies himself as Rhymer’s librarian. He says he wrote to the Sanctuary, the Coalition Council, someone named Gunther, and the previous Veil, Lady Avril.”
Ben blinked and looked at Amelie. She was listening, mouth hanging open.
“Two and a half years ago, when he wrote this,” Towaal continued stoically, “I was only aware of the mages within the Sanctuary. I didn’t know of the men on the Coalition Council or this Gunther, and I was under the impression Lady Avril was killed centuries ago. The Librarian not only suspected these people existed, but he knew how to contact them. Unfortunately, this is an individual letter. We don’t know anything about these people other than their names and that the Librarian attempted to reach them.”
“Did the Veil know about this?” exclaimed Amelie. “Did she do anything after getting her letter?”
Towaal shrugged. “I wish I could ask. As far as I know, she did nothing. That, though, is very unlike her. I worry she is playing a deeper game than we’re able to understand.”
“What did the Librarian want from them?” asked Ben.
“He wanted weapons and mages to use them,” responded Towaal. “He refers specifically to the Purple’s cache in Irrefort, the Sanctuary’s wyvern fire, and Gunther’s hammer.”
Ben snapped his fingers. “That could be how Councilman Rettor knew about the Purple!”
Amelie nodded. “Jason told us he ignored this scroll and let the other council members deal with it. That part makes sense now. Instead of helping the Purple use those weapons, Rettor murdered their mage in Irrefort and stole the cache. Gunther was mentioned by Jasper, I got the impression he’s another rogue mage who keeps to himself. Jasper wasn’t even sure the man still lived. What is the Sanctuary’s wyvern fire?”
Towaal took a long sip of ale. “Again, I wish I could ask the Veil. There are mysteries in the Sanctuary, knowledge that has been buried for centuries. I realize now that the Veil knows more about what is going on in this world than I ever expected. For years, she knew about the Rift and Northport’s difficulties stemming the tide of new demons.”
“Why didn’t she do anything about it?” demanded Amelie.
“That’s what worries me,” answered Towaal. “Maybe she was doing something.”
“What?” demanded Ben. “She didn’t send help to Rhymer. Lady Anne was in Northport and left! Who knows how many other mages over the years weren’t doing anything to fight the demons.”
“I think that’s what Towaal is worried about,” suggested Rhys. “The Veil is not one to sit by and twiddle her thumbs. She was up to something, trying to use this information somehow. If she wasn’t trying to stop the demons, was she trying to use them? I don’t know, but I think we all agree we can’t trust whatever machinations she’s trying to pull from within the shadows.”
Ben swallowed uncomfortably.
Corinne spoke up, startling everyone since she’d been so quiet so far. “How does this relate to Milo’s comment, the one about ‘left in Alcott’? You didn’t mention anything about some other faction of the Purple.”
Towaal answered, “The letter closes with the message that if the mages of Alcott cannot band together and defeat the demons, then, and I quote, ‘Qooten will rise. They will come out of hiding and unveil their terrible power. They will stop the demons, but we will all burn’. I thought that was referring to something else, but the Librarian’s statement to Milo implies there could be other Purple alive outside of Alcott.”
“Then it has to be them in Qooten!” interjected Ben. “They have a weapon that may be able to destroy the demons once and for all.”
Towaal nodded. “It seems the Librarian thought that power would destroy us too.”
“What do we do?” asked Amelie.
Towaal glanced at her. “I was going to ask you that. We’ve sworn to you, remember?”
Amelie looked to Ben. “What do you think?”
“There’s no choice, is there?” answered Ben. “Nothing has changed about the demon threat. Maybe this weapon is the solution, or maybe the surviving Purple can tell us more about the rift key. Either way, the demons are still there, still coming in uncontested. Entire towns are already overrun. If
we do nothing, then Alcott is at risk. Everyone we know could be fodder for those evil creatures. We can’t turn to the Coalition. Lord Jason made that clear. We can’t go to the Sanctuary. The Librarian is dead…”
As Ben trailed off, Amelie said what everyone was thinking, “We go to Qooten.”
***
The next morning, the party shuffled out of the Hangman’s Noose. They had a three-day walk ahead of them to the port city of Hamruhg. From there, they hoped to gain passage across the South Sea and to Ooswam, where Saala was from. They would travel south through Ooswam to the desert nation of Qooten.
Ben found it difficult to keep his spirits up.
“What’s wrong?” asked Amelie.
Ben snorted. “What’s not wrong? We’re setting off again, hoping for a long shot answer to pay off. We still don’t really know what we’re doing and whether it can even help. Since we left the Sanctuary, it’s jumping from one dangerous mission to the next. We haven’t made any progress!”
Amelie walked close to him, letting her arm rub against his as they walked. “I think you’re looking at it the wrong way,” she suggested.
“How so?” asked Ben.
Amelie gestured to their companions, “We have a mage on our side, a long-lived assassin, a hunter, and, uh, a librarian’s apprentice. Saala I’m sure would support us if he knew where we were. We travelled with Jasper, an ancient battle mage, and he agreed to recruit his brethren and fight the demons. Lord Rhymer and even Lord Jason are aware of our cause. Don’t forget, they’ve both helped us in some way. We’re gaining allies, Ben, allies all over Alcott.”
“I’m not sure that is enough, Amelie,” argued Ben. “We’re too few. We’re not strong enough.”
“Remember what we told Jasper?” reminded Amelie. “It has to start somewhere, and it has to start with someone. It started with us, but it’s not just us now. There are others. Still few, but it’s spreading. Maybe when the time comes, we’ll find the support we need. Maybe it will be enough.”
Ben sighed. He knew she was right. He wasn’t a hero, but they’d found some. Towaal, Rhys, Corinne, Jasper, maybe even Lord Jason someday. It didn’t seem like a lot, but maybe it would be enough.
***
The city of Hamruhg was a sprawling mass of old red bricks. It predated the Coalition. The city sat on a broad river. Ten leagues south were the choppy waters of the South Sea. Rhys explained that in ancient times, Hamruhg survived because it was on the river and not the sea. It made defense easier. Towers were set up to alert the city of raiders. Anyone who did try to attack from the water had to deal with the catapults stationed in those towers.
When the Coalition came to power, Hamruhg was one of the first major cities to fall to Irrefort, though, reluctantly joined was probably a more apt description of what happened. Hamruhg, similar to Fabrizo, was ruled by merchants. Their might was economic and not political. As long as they could keep trading, they didn’t much care who was collecting the taxes. At least, they didn’t care until those taxes started to go up.
As the biggest port in the Coalition and the closest to Irrefort, the city was an easy source of wealth for the Coalition’s government. Between import duties, excise taxes, wharfage fees, and captains bonding drunken sailors out of the jail, the Coalition’s coffers were filled from Hamruhg’s success.
From a distance, Ben could spy bulky estates built from hulking stone instead of the red bricks that made up the rest of the city. The estates dominated the blocks they sat on like armored warriors crowding out the other drunks at the bar. The merchants may complain about the taxes, but it hadn’t put them out of business.
“After we find an inn,” said Rhys loudly so the entire party could hear, “I’ll find passage on a vessel and the rest of you can secure supplies. The sooner we leave, the better.”
Ben nodded. Lord Jason had let them go, but the man could always have second thoughts. Ben didn’t relish the thought of facing him again. They also had Eldred to worry about. No one had heard anything from the dark mage since Towaal left Northport, but she was out there, somewhere.
“Have you been to Hamruhg?” Corinne asked Milo.
She, like the rest of them, had spent the last three days trying to draw the shy librarian’s apprentice out of his shell. He rarely spoke unless spoken to, and when he did, it was in a quiet voice that didn’t carry much further than the person he was directly addressing. He never spoke up in a group.
Milo shook his head.
Ben veered closer, straining to hear the conversation. He was curious about the boy. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure what the Librarian had seen in him.
“I’d never been out of the west until the trip to Irrefort,” answered the boy.
Corinne nodded, “Neither had I. Actually, unless you count the Wilds, I never left Northport until I fell in with this crowd.”
Milo ducked his head, nodding to the huntress.
“Milo, have you spent much time outside of Northport?” Ben asked.
“A little,” answered Milo.
Ben frowned. The conversation got him thinking. He didn’t know where Milo was actually from. Certainly not Northport, with his almost physical aversion to weapons and combat, but where? He was intending to probe deeper, but they reached the end of the muddy road they were following and found themselves standing in front of the gates of Hamruhg. The traffic was flowing in smoothly, but there was a long line of merchandise waiting to get out.
“Making sure they’ve got their customs chocks,” guessed Rhys.
Ben saw his friend was right. To exit the city, people were showing the guards marks on the sides of their wagons, or in the case of a large wagon train, pieces of parchment where the port officials must have collected the duties.
Amelie was watching closely, probably considering how the system affected the economics of the region, but Ben was only interested as far as they were able to enter easily with no fuss from the guards. After that, his concern was finding a tavern with cold ale, clean bedding, and, ideally, a secluded bed he and Amelie could share.
Hamruhg’s streets were cobblestoned, a welcome change after trudging through the muddy road outside. In short order, Rhys guided them down the boulevards and toward the port. The inns would be rougher there, but they’d also be good places for anonymous strangers.
The familiar sights and scents washed over Ben the closer they got to the port. He was stunned by how quickly he’d adjusted to the city when they first stepped within the gates. When they’d entered Fabrizo, his head had been swimming with the strangeness. Now, he’d lost that sense. Hamruhg was a bit different, but not that different from all of the others.
Hamruhg had red bricks, and Whitehall had pale limestone. Both of them held seedy taverns by the docks and merchant’s manses as far from the smell as they could get. Shops lined the first levels of the buildings and above them clustered apartments like in Fabrizo. People walked about, doing the same tasks and chores that they’d do in any city.
“You look deep in thought,” remarked Amelie.
Ben grinned at her. “Just thinking how strange it is that I’m so comfortable in a city now. A year ago, my jaw would be dragging on these cobblestones. I wouldn’t know what to look at next. Now, it seems so normal.”
“That’s what I find strange too,” responded Amelie. “It does feel normal, doesn’t it? This is one of the oldest cities in the Coalition, the same Coalition that’s been hunting us, that conquered my home. When we fled the City, I would have called them evil. This place should feel different, I guess. Different from Issen, different from Whitehall, different from Northport or the City. These are just normal people though, going about their day.”
Ben didn’t know what to say.
“You two need an ale,” grumbled Rhys. He pointed to a squat brick structure. “There.”
A steep flight of stairs led down to a narrow door. The place hunkered below the more reputable businesses housed above it. In Ben’s experience,
below ground taverns were never savory places, but Towaal was already stomping down the stairs. If it was good enough for her, Ben wasn’t going to complain.
He spared a glance above at the late winter sky. If they were lucky, in a few days, they’d be rocking on a boat on the open sea, a choppy sea if what he heard was true. He groaned and joined his companions in the darkness below.
***
Two days later, passage was arranged and they were gathering the last of the supplies they’d need for the voyage to the south continent. Four weeks at sea and then six across Ooswam to get to the nation of Qooten. Compared to what they’d been through, it didn’t seem that long a journey, but Ben couldn’t help thinking less than a year ago, he didn’t know these places even existed. Hamruhg may not feel different to him anymore, but he was certain the southern lands would.
Ben, Amelie, and Corinne were making one last attempt to secure supplies. Then they would be off to the ship to meet their companions. Rhys, Towaal, and Milo had already boarded that morning. Corinne was looking for supplies to fashion a new set of arrows. Ben thought it’d be easier to just purchase them from a fletcher, but he suspected she was trying to find something to do on the long sea voyage. Amelie was looking for blasting powder, fuses, and nails. She’d been inspired by the steel balls she’d manipulated in Northport. Those had been effective because of the force when thrown from a catapult. With more preparation, she thought she could achieve the same effect without a giant catapult, which would be inconvenient to lug around.
Ben was a bit nervous, thinking about sailing across the South Sea on a ship filled with blasting powder and an initiate mage trying to charge it. It was Amelie though, so he wasn’t going to say anything.
They’d already collected Amelie’s supplies and safely stuffed them into their packs. They were on the way to the fletcher’s street. Corinne claimed they’d get the best prices there. Ben scratched his head and shrugged. Buying raw goods from the same place you could easily purchase finished goods seemed strange, but he didn’t know where to buy shafts, arrows, strings, and steel tips in a big city.