“And we will. Together.” I bumped his shoulder with my fist and pulled him against my shoulder. “We’re family, man. All we got. You, me, and the others. We are gonna get him back. But we can’t do that if we are fighting and accusing each other of doing useless shit. Okay? This is what they want. They want us to fight with each other. Don’t give them what they want.”
He nodded, and I could finally see just how tired and defeated he was. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, and the worry lines were creeping next to his eyes and on his forehead. I could imagine the worry running through him. We all felt it.
I patted him on the back and left him standing there a moment to go grab the others and let them know that it was cool to come out now.
They filed out, Jaken first, then James and Yohsuke. They gathered around Bokaj and just let him have it. Jaken pulled him into a fierce hug that lifted the Ranger from his feet. James put a hand on his shoulder and just nodded quietly. Yohsuke stepped forward and gently punched him in the chest.
“He’s top priority, man.” He nodded. “Getting stronger and better loot is all that we gotta do to make that happen. So let’s make it happen. Cool?”
“Sorry, guys.” He looked down and scratched his head. Tmont rubbed herself against his legs and purred loudly.
I stepped over to him and smacked his arm softly. “Don’t be sorry. Be stronger.”
The third door was odd, a blank wall behind the door. We closed the door, opened it, and it was just wall. Weird, but the tower belonged to a Mage. I’m sure it had some kind of meaning, but at the moment, we were tired, pissed off, and just didn’t give a fuck. We left the top of the tower the way it had been when we arrived, our looting aside, and walked toward the stairs.
Thinking about it and how we would likely be leaving, I called Kayda to the window and reached out to tap her wing as she coasted by. Her physical form dissipated into ebon-colored smoke and filtered into the collar around my neck. Much better.
James clapped his hands together eagerly. “Let’s go talk to the emissaries and let them know that we will be going back to the village in hopes that we can get any information.”
* * *
At the bottom of the stairwell, the Elves looked out the door through a small slit. No one seemed to have dared bother the tower since their miraculous recovery. Those who now sat up or stood and milled about were likely concerned more with their families and returning their lives to normalcy than looking for the cause of their freedom.
“I take it you had a better time finding your spoils above?” one of them said inquisitively as she eyed Yohsuke’s new hat and gloves.
“Something to that effect.” Yohsuke smiled and looked to me suggestively.
“What will you be doing now?” I asked, taking the hint.
“One of us will stay here,” the speaker said. She pointed to the male Elf on her right, who bowed and stepped away. “The other two will make their way toward the larger Elven citadels toward the North where the High Elves rule. There we will begin our… representation of our Queen and her ideals.”
“My name is Eroan Shalar, emissary to the Darkest Mother.” The male she had motioned to bowed. “I am at your service, Lord Zekiel.”
Lord? I thought to myself in surprise. “Uh, sure. So you’re going to stay and lend a hand here then?”
“I will stay and lead these people, as they seem to be lacking in a leader now. This will be the first step toward our Darkest Queen’s goals.”
“Ho ho hold the fuck UP.” Jaken stepped forward and put a hand to the Elf’s chest. “You’re going to what?”
“I am simply going to offer my, and by extension, my Lady’s, service and protection until such a time as they can lead themselves if they should choose to do so. I will not impede their ability to grow and prosper. The opposite, truly. But with an emphasis on gratitude to the Fae who helped lead them into standing back up on their feet so soon after tragedy befell their city.” He motioned to his compatriots. “This is what we were sent here to do, Paladin. Do you intend to stop us and go back on your word to the Queen?”
“Do you mean them any harm?” he asked without giving any indication as to his answer.
“No. My Queen wants a strong people to act as her catalyst in this realm.” His cultured voice quivered a bit, but he continued, “She desires footholds in this plane of existence. A wasteland of broken people and weaklings is not ideal.”
Jaken took a moment to eye the Elf some more, then took his hand away and patted his shoulder. “Maebe seemed cool. So I guess it’s okay. Just take care of them. There are some funds to get things going upstairs in one of the rooms.”
The look on Eroan’s face was panicked that someone other than me would use the Queen’s name. I wasn’t about to correct him. He was my friend and, by extension, hers. At least in my eyes. Of course, they hadn’t seen the things that I had been privy to, except maybe Yohsuke, and only because she had introduced him to his demonic patron.
That had been another exceptionally bad time in my life, but it was over now.
I shivered slightly, remembering the horrors I had seen. I had watched her rip out one of her more disrespectful former captive’s heart and stuff it into his mouth. Then she froze him solid, bleeding heart in his mouth—alive for however long it would take the ice to thaw. The last I had seen, he had been staring down, wild-eyed and terrified. All of this within the blink of an eye and with no remorse.
I’d also seen a softer side to her, the side that made me want to be her friend, her concern for her power base because it protected her people. Her love of art, even if it was kinda creepy and had resulted in countless frozen enemies and other such creatures. Her naivety at what it meant to have friends and her curiosity. Her dazzling intellect and observational skills. Of course, that had been before the whole heart thing—but hey, I’m not perfect myself. I shook myself from my reverie, focusing back on the matter at hand.
“I think that’s as good as it’ll get.” I grunted. “How will you both get there?”
“We will walk.” She smiled. “Telbareth and I are capable warriors, and we have a basic understanding of things here from books. We are also adept at disguise and woodcraft.”
“Okay, what is your name?”
“Xelody, my Lord.” She smiled sweetly and bowed her head respectfully. “I am to lead this expedition.”
“Then we will leave you to it, Xelody, Telbareth, and Eroan. Should you need anything, send word to me through Maebe or send a letter to Sunrise Village. We will get it.”
They nodded, bowed their heads, and stepped outside before the rest of us. We watched as they began to move through the people who remained in the street. As odd as they were to look at, these Fae beings in dark cloaks speaking to humans and the occasional Dwarf were surprisingly well received. People smiled back at them, grateful for whatever tender mercies they could give.
“Let’s beat it before these guys start to come for us,” Yohsuke suggested as more and more of the city’s residents began rising stiffly from the ground.
I nodded, eager to move on myself. I never had been all that great with gratitude from strangers. Shit made me feel weird.
“I’ve got us. Come here.” I closed my eyes and focused. As I touched the spell in my mind, I knew they would need to be touching me for it to transport us all. “Touch my shoulders, grab hands, hold wrists, whatever, but everybody has to touch.”
I felt hands on each shoulder—one meaty and gauntleted, the other clawed and seemingly more delicate. I glanced and saw that everyone was good, so closed my eyes once more.
When I activated the spell, my map enlarged inside my mind, and I saw the places I could go. The radius I could go to was currently five hundred miles from my current position, so that left anywhere I had been to previously. I saw the place where I’d first met Kayda in the Lightning Mountains. Then I saw our destination—Sunrise Village.
I selected that location. The world left my feet, and a jarr
ing force met my legs like I had just jumped off the ground for a moment and landed weird. I opened my eyes to survey our surroundings and was surprised to see that we were standing in the center of the village square.
One of the older bear Beast-kin blinked his eyes and started to sputter before crying out and hauling ass into the nearest building. A second later, Sir Willem Dillon followed him outside in his barkeep garb, a pair of sturdy, brown breeches tucked into black boots and a white shirt under a brown, stained apron.
The six-foot-tall human held a sword in his left hand and a shield in his right. His gray eyes were sparkling, even as they darted to and fro while he looked for the threat to his village. I had no doubt that he could whoop some serious ass if he wanted to because, even at his older age, he was still well muscled. Willem wore his gray hair pulled back into a ponytail with a small, reddish-gray beard. He’d be a handsome fucker too if it hadn’t been for that badass scar along the right side of his face that started at his hairline and fell to his chin.
Don’t let my jealousy color your decision on this, though, he’s a handsome dude. Super nice guy. And as I was looking, his mustache game was on point. He had let it grow significantly since last we’d seen him. What did he use for that, I wonder.
Focus, you guys! Come on, I’ve got a story to tell.
“Well, I’ll be.” He smiled as he rushed at us. We shied away from the sword a bit, and the shield smacked against my right leg painfully, but he swung a hug on us anyway.
“It’s the lads, Seamus!” He chuckled. “Radiance handpicked these boys. Wait, where’s the wee one? And who is this strapping scaled person?”
“We have a lot to go over, man.” Bokaj sighed.
“Well, come in!” He turned toward his tavern. “Come in and get some food and a drink. Tell me all about it.”
So we did. We did exactly that. Sir Willem heaped our plates with food from his kitchens, the chef shaking Yohsuke’s hand in greeting—happy that his favorite apprentice cook was back.
I couldn’t speak for the others—as my mouth was full of this delicious food—so I listened as they recounted some of the events that had taken place since we’d last seen Willem.
It took a bit, and we stopped occasionally to answer a question here and there, but when we finished, our host stood and began to pace.
“…So all you know is that he was gone in a plume of sulfurous smoke and the general’s snide remark?” he asked after a moment.
We nodded glumly. He paced some more, his right hand twirling the edge of his mustache in thought.
“Was a good thing you did for those people, by the way.” He nodded my way. “Not a lot of folks do that. Maybe you ought to try the same thing once more? But this time, seek information? I never did, but this is a rather urgent matter in any case.”
I looked at Jaken, and he shrugged. “Worth a shot I guess. I’ll summon an angel and see what we can do.”
“Better take it into the back of the tavern. Prying eyes are one thing, but an honest-to-goodness angel here may start quite a commotion.”
We agreed and stepped into the back of his building. The ten-foot-tall fenced in area was well enough hidden for something so odd.
We signaled we were ready, and Jaken triggered the spell. There was a small, whumpf-like detonation, and a being of pure light stood before us. She—I assumed it was a she because of the flowing locks and obvious, womanly curves—stood waiting expectantly with her eyes on Jaken.
Sir Willem fell to a knee and bowed, but she didn’t pay attention. She just watched Jaken.
“Hello,” Jaken began. She cocked her head to the left a bit and seemed to decide that it was fine because her head went back to normal.
“Ask her if she knows a way to get to the Hells without dying,” Bokaj suggested. Jaken echoed his question, and she seemed to consider for a long time before nodding her head.
“Can you tell us how to get there?” he asked hopefully.
She shook her head, then looked to the rest of us, then the ground. She nodded and knelt to the ground and began to draw something with her finger, the ground seeming to just disappear where she touched her fingers. After a moment, she stopped and considered her work before she must have decided it was good. She stood and clapped once before disappearing with a sucking sound.
“Fuck, man, that was weird,” I mumbled.
“I’ve never seen a pure Celestial entity like that before,” Willem spoke low in wonder.
“Is that what she was?” James asked. “She didn’t seem all that helpful, what with the whole not-talking thing.”
“Pure Celestial beings like that can’t speak, or they would destroy any non-Celestials nearby who could hear them. Their voices are for the heavens alone, lad,” pointing at the ground he continued, “but she did leave a clue.”
“That there is the Celestial tongue,” he said proudly. “Beautiful work, that.”
“Can you read it?” Jaken and I asked together, only to groan when he shook his head no.
“Zeke, you stupid bitch.” Yohsuke half laughed and half sighed. “Didn’t Maebe give you a book on this shit?”
My palm moved of its own accord and struck my forehead. She had. It was a primer on the Celestial language. I hadn’t had the chance to flip through it yet. I reached into my inventory and willed it into my hand. The small tome appeared in my palm. I knelt next to the symbol the Celestial being had carved.
It looked like a leaf with a branch behind it and two stars below it. It was so perfectly done that it could have been a natural part of the ground in the yard, having been there forever.
I looked through the words, definitions, and meanings, only to turn up nada. Irritated, I shut the book and stepped back into the tavern, asked to borrow some paper and charcoal to try and copy it. I placed the paper over the marking and began rubbing the charcoal over the piece until the relief of it was nearly identical.
From there, I took the paper and began to walk through the village. I asked as many people as would stop if they had ever seen a symbol like it, anything that might lead us to a clue of some kind. Finally, I worked my way over to the carpenter’s building, her sign swaying gently in a slight breeze. I went to walk in, grasping the door by the handle and pulling to find it locked.
Not uncommon for that to happen. People took days off, and since coming here, I hadn’t bothered to learn what the days of the week were—if there was even a “week” to be had.
I decided that it was time to go and meet Rowland—the black-bearded Dwarven blacksmith—for a chat and see if he knew what was going on with this rune or if he would know anyone who might.
I walked a few more minutes and spoke to more passers-by; one wolf Beast-kin swore up and down that it looked like a crest, but she couldn’t be sure and had to hurry on because she needed to get to work. I thanked her with a gold coin for her time, and she gasped but took it with gratitude.
As I walked on, Rowland’s squat-looking forge—a building made of wood in the front with a stone portion around the forge in the back—came into view. The back of the place was ringed with a tall fence, and clanging thuds of metal could be heard through the air as the Dwarf inside beat the hell from whatever it was he was making. I chuckled to myself as I thought about seeing him last time, piss-drunk and begging me to stay and make him another hammer.
I opened his door and stepped inside. Everything was much the same as I remembered. Weapons hung on racks along the walls and sat on shelves. The rhythmic clobbering of metal never stopped.
As I poked my head around the door frame into the forge itself, I was surprised to see a beefy-looking Dwarf, his blonde beard and hair plaited tightly with metal beads that reflected the glowing heat of the forge behind him. This wasn’t Rowland—a black-haired and bearded Dwarf himself and definitely taller than my friend.
I waited patiently for him to finish his work, quenching the item he was working on in oil and setting it aside for a wiping down before I spoke. There had bee
n no magic like I had seen Rowland using or skills that simply looked like magic to my untrained eyes. Just elbow grease.
“Excuse me,” I spoke kind of loudly because I knew after hammering, his hearing may need a little time to return to normal.
“Wassat?” He grunted and turned to look at me. “Aye, looky here, fox—do nay sneak up on me again like ‘at, or I’ll be takin’ yer tails.”
“Forgive me, but the last time I was here, Rowland was the smith. Where is he?”
“Knowed me cousin, did ye?” he said in a low voice. He began stalking forward with his hammer in hand. “I suppose ye recognized him when he was layin’ bleedin’ at yer feet two nights past?”
“What?!” I growled in anger. “Where is he? Where is Sarah? What happened?”
He just kept stalking forward and fell into a low stance like he was about to spring at me, but I lunged forward and grabbed him by the leather apron he wore first.
“Tell me where my friends are!” I roared into his face, my vision blurring with red around the edges. I fought for control, barely winning.
To his credit, the Dwarf barely flinched and brought the hammer down to strike at me, but I just shook him a bit and displaced his aim so that it fell on my shoulder. I took roughly 40 HP worth of damage from it, but I didn’t give a damn. If I started beating his ass in truth, I wouldn’t get the answers I needed.
And I’d be Godsdamned if I was gonna lose another friend today.
“Zekiel?” A familiar voice from behind distracted me from exacting my vengeance on the little man.
I tossed him away from me and turned to see the dark-skinned Sarah. I rushed forward and began inspecting her at arm’s length.
“What happened to your father?” I began asking.
“Da is hurting, bruised for sure, a few broken bones, and he’s unconscious. The healer can’t do much else for him.” Shifting her gaze to the Dwarf, she continued, “Craglim, this is Zekiel. He’s the one da’ and I made the Blood Axe for. He’s a friend.”
Into the Dragon's Den (Axe Druid Book 2) Page 4