by Lakshman, V.
“Now tell auntie whatch’ya know, lass,” she said eagerly, like a child waiting for a treat.
Likely the war in the desert left few stragglers or reports. Survivors did not walk out of the desert every day, leaving the cities ringing it bereft of any real news. The problem was, these conversations always went the same way. No one really knew anything, and two adepts who did not want to be found were naturally hard to find.
It had been the same at Sunhold, Deeplook, Morninglight, and now so far, it seemed to be the same here in Westbay. Sai’ken was hoping for something and had thought up a new tactic to solicit it. It would take patience, and that meant putting up with this woman for just a bit longer.
“Maybe I heard there were dwarves in Bara’cor… and Dawnlight. Maybe even here?” She asked the last innocently enough, careful to avoid the “mayhap” on the tip of her tongue. The archaic but beautiful language the dragons used gave the halflings’ guttural tradespeech some elegance, but here it would only serve to bring suspicion she was high-born.
No one talked to high-borns, something Sai’ken learned from her first disastrous attempt at Lastpoint, a place seemingly bred to harbor many pirates and thieves. The woman was right. Sai’ken had held the town to its name, making her “last point” in a lurid declaration of the blood and bone out of its ignoble “citizens.” Needless to say, if word of this had already reached Westbay, she’d not be returning to Lastpoint any time soon.
“Ach, yer crazy. Dwarves at Bara’cor!” She looked over at the bartender to her left. “Derrik, open yer ears, boy! Mistress says there’s dwarves at Bara’cor.”
The boy just shrugged, his attention on filling his mug and serving the people in front of him. He risked a quick glance at them and then said, “Lots is going on at Bara’cor. That’d be true.”
The woman shook her head, wiping the counter with a rag she’d pulled from somewhere under the bar, and then she said to Sai’ken, “The boy is daft, son of my brother or he wouldn’t have a job. Better at watching grass grow if ya asks me.”
Sai’ken began to wonder if the whole lot of them weren’t a bit “daft,” as the woman had put it. As far as she could tell, though, the boy clearly knew his business. He didn’t dally, his focus stayed on his work, and more importantly he kept his patrons serviced. He also talked a lot less than this woman, who Sai’ken was beginning to regret having engaged.
“What? Don’t like the chicken?”
The dragon sighed, then speared another chunk and washed it down with ale. Cooked meat made her sick, but she forced herself, knowing it was part of the necessary courtesy to establish a rapport amongst these folk. Meals brought them bovinely together.
The woman wasn’t finished. “I’d believe dwarves at Dawnlight. Just the kinda place those vermin would inhabit. They’re dirt grubbers, ya know.” She said this with a fishwife’s authority, hand in the air as if she spoke the word of whatever gods she followed.
Sai’ken nodded vigorously, full of the dry chicken she had to fight to swallow. She finished it with her ale, wiping her mouth. “A man’ll be coming in. He’s my brother. I’d like to save this seat for him.”
“You’ll be payin’ first—”
“Of course,” Sai’ken cut her off with a coin thrust in front of the woman’s nose. “Will a silver imperial cover this, and lodging for him?” She waited, watching as the woman’s eyes went from the coin to her face, then up to the ceiling as she did a mock calculation in her head. A silver was more than enough, Sai’ken knew, but this woman seemed shrewd enough to not agree immediately. Perhaps they weren’t as simple as they acted.
“It’ll just cover it, and another ale if it pleases ya,” she offered, likely feeling guilty at taking triple the amount owed.
Sai’ken shook her head, “No, save it for him. He’s of the EvenSea militia. You’ll know him by his eyes. They’re like mine.” As she said this, she looked at the woman squarely for the first time. Her small gasp told Sai’ken she’d seen the yellow-gold irises, a detail she’d only made apparent now, and only to this woman. Then she dropped her gaze and turned to look at the door, “Now, please see to the room.”
She heard the woman stumble back a bit before retreating up the stairs, her composure gone. Sai’ken didn’t wait for her to return but instead walked past the table of boisterous soldiers, some of whom called to her to join them, and went out the door.
The area outside was crowded with people out for the evening. Orange lamplight flickered at storefronts and along the quay, and combined with the sound of water washing up the sand, it gave one the feeling of literally being by the sea, which wasn’t far from the truth. Sai’ken found a dark corner near one side of the entrance and changed form.
Now in her place stood a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing the aquamarine cloak and the single trident of EvenSea at clasp and collar. It marked him as an officer, and would help Sai’ken with the next part of her plan.
It had been clear in the other towns that one person asking the same questions only led to suspicion, and that could lead to another misunderstanding like at Lastpoint. She’d thought about it and realized that if more than one person asked the right questions, people’s suspicions never got aroused. Gossip was best found in small bits from lots of people, and never all at once. Luckily, everyone these people met tonight would be Sai’ken in different guises.
She made her way back into the Sunsetter, grabbing a seat near the one she’d just vacated. The woman was just clearing her old dishes when Sai’ken, now disguised as a militia man said, “Excuse me. My sister left me a message.”
The woman looked at him, her eyes tracking up and down, then said, “No one left no message, and that seat’s for payin’ customers.”
“Really?” Sai’ken asked, more than a bit surprised. “My sister, with eyes like mine, left no message?”
The woman stared at him, looking a little sheepish. “No, and you’ll be on your way or I’ll call your militia brothers to take you for disturbin’ our peace.”
Sai’ken got up, looking down at the woman from her now more considerable height advantage, and said, “And what about the silver—”
“Auntie,” the boy Derrik interrupted, putting two hands on the woman’s shoulders and pulling her away from the confrontation, “I forgot to tell ya, the mistress from before asked for a room and ale for her brother. Paid in silver she did.”
The woman didn’t take her eyes off Sai’ken, but answered over her shoulder, “You’re sure?” Clearly this was all part of their well-rehearsed act.
Derrik looked appropriately apologetic and said, looking at Sai’ken, “Yes, Aunty. No reason for all this fuss. This is certainly her brother.”
He pulled her away and positioned her at his last station, then came over with a mug of ale and said, “Forgive her, sir. She’s gettin’ up in the turns, losin’ her memory and all,” he said, tapping his head. “Lemme make it up with a free mug after this one. No need for yer militia.”
Sai’ken’s opinion of the boy grew another notch, for he’d skillfully protected his thieving aunt while leaving a potential customer none the wiser. It was a good bet on the inn’s part to claim ignorance. How many people just left, not realizing their friend or family had left coin? Had she not just been here posing as the younger girl, she’d have believed all this was a mistake. When the boy saw his auntie wasn’t going to get away with it, he’d stepped in and offered a face-saving way of extricating themselves from the situation. While he may be a port town local, he was anything but daft.
Sai’ken smiled, then nodded and said, “I understand. My sister and I have a father who’s a bit empty in the head. Can’t find his way out of a one door room without smashing the place like a drunken dragon.”
The boy smiled back. “Sounds like a handful he does.”
“You have no idea,” said Sai’ken, still smiling.
Derrik nodded and then left to tend to another patron, leaving Sai’ken alone to think. She’d probably
found out everything she could from the bartenders, but these men-at-arms might be a better source of information, hence her guise as one of them.
She looked over at the table of soldiers, now well into their drinks, then grabbed her mug and sauntered over. Eyeing the table’s men, she pulled out a chair, slapped her mug down and took a seat. Their raucous behavior stumbled to a stop, a few of the more sober ones coming to order in the presence of an officer of their militia.
Before things became awkward, Sai’ken said, “At ease, just off duty.” She smiled, toasting, “To EvenSea!”
The men raised their mugs and cheered, “Here, here!”
Sai’ken took a gulp, then turned to the man closest to her and said, “What’s the news from Bara’cor?”
The man leaned in and said, “Well sir, your guess is as good as mine. Strange though, about EvenSea?”
Sai’ken paused, a bit confused. “Yes, very.”
“Who’d have thought the ground could do that.”
The dragon nodded, still confused but careful to keep her face the same mixture of astonishment and pride she saw reflected in the man’s. The bartender had said something about EvenSea rising, and she’d assumed she meant the men of the fortress. She took a quick sip and turned to her left and said to another, “EvenSea… amazing.”
The second man, oblivious to the conversation the first had had with Sai’ken said, “The walls, growing right out of the ground! Never have I seen such a sight!”
Sai’ken sat back, stunned. The fortress regrowing? She looked back at the man she’d started with and said, “Walls growing? Dwarven magic if you ask me.”
“Whatever magic it is can’t come too soon. Will be whole again within a month, say the stone masons.” He leaned in and asked, “Is that right? You probably know more than the lot of us, beggin’ yer pardon, sir.”
Sai’ken ignored the question and asked instead, “And you don’t care magic is the reason?” She turned to the man, who broke his gaze and looked into his cup.
Then he looked back up and there was fire in his eyes. “Not if it means EvenSea lives again.” He turned his attention to his shieldmates and said, “Praise the Tir family and the Lady’s mercy upon them!”
A chorus of “ayes” followed that, from more than just this table.
Sai’ken waited, digesting the news. EvenSea growing again from the ground? If that was true, it could mean that the other fortresses were doing the same. What part of the Way was responsible for this? She thought about the society and rules of the people they’d pledged to protect. Rais dealt with enforcement, and destruction, but Sais were meant to protect and nurture. It was within her ability to coax the walls to regrow, she knew, but she was not responsible for EvenSea’s repair. So who was?
Though most of Edyn knew Bara’cor had been built by the dwarves, the dragons alone knew of the great dwarven king Vulkan, who had built the fortresses ringing the desert long before Bara’s time. Bara’cor was the newest, but all four had been built by his hands. Why Vulkan and his people chose those locations was lost to antiquity. They rose long before Sai’ken, her father, or her father’s father had existed, and that was a very long time indeed in halfling years.
Now the fortress of EvenSea was repairing itself, and what if that meant they all could? Worse, how could Lilyth not know this would happen? And if she knew, why then had she expended the red mage in an effort that would prove to be utterly fruitless? Something important was happening here, a missing piece of information the dragonkind needed to know.
“You’ll be drinking to that, Lieutenant?”
She didn’t realize the man next to her had been speaking until he jostled her with an elbow.
“What say you?”
She looked around at the table and asked, “To what?”
“TCA is asking for volunteers… you going?” said a man across the table. He was by his chevrons a staff sergeant, and nominally in charge of this table, at least until Sai’ken in her guise as a lieutenant had shown up. When she didn’t answer, the man cleared his throat and added apologetically, “Sir?”
Why would the combat academy be asking for volunteers? She turned to the staff sergeant and said, “I’ll go wherever my duty lies, Sergeant.”
He nodded at that, taking it for a “yes,” and said to the table, “You can stay here and wait for the fortress to grow a new privy, or join me and the King’s Tirs in freeing Bara’cor.” He raised a mug and said, “TCA knows the way!” The rest of the table cheered and drank.
Sai’ken watched, knowing half of what was said tonight would be forgotten in the mugs. It wasn’t that these men weren’t without courage, but they just didn’t know enough to answer her about whether Dragor and Jesyn had come through here or not. That would take a regular, and these men were simply relaxing off-duty. The news of EvenSea was worth the time at the table, though she was no closer to finding the adepts dispatched by the lore father.
She raised her mug to the sergeant and then drained it in one long gulp. She smiled back at the man’s astonished look, then rose to leave. A hand on her shoulder stopped her, and she turned to find a patron pointing at the bartender, Derrik.
She moved closer to the bar and raised her chin, “Yes?”
“Your sis,” he said while pouring another ale, “said something about dwarves.”
“Reports from Bara’cor… Why, did you see one?”
He shook his head quickly and smiled, “Nah, yer pullin’ my leg, just like mi’ auntie said to your sis.”
Sai’ken sighed, then asked, “What then?”
The boy looked a little sheepish, then said, “Well, a couple others asked about dwarves, too.”
Sai’ken’s senses tuned to the boy’s words. She waited, then raised an eyebrow when he looked down at her belt. The dragon cursed, reached down, and flipped the boy a copper crown, not quite an imperial but enough money for a full meal.
The boy seemed to consider it, then said, “Two of ’em, a brown man and a girl with short hair.”
The adepts! Her relief must’ve been plain on her face, for the boy then asked, “They’re not yer family… maybe they owe someone money?”
Sai’ken moved a bit closer and pulled another crown out and held it up. “Did they say where they were going?”
“Not exactly.” The boy didn’t look at the copper, only at Sai’ken’s gold-flecked eyes. “I’d be wantin’ to know why yer lookin’ for ’em, before I speak, sir.”
The dragon considered it. What harm could come by sharing her information?
Plenty, she knew, given this boy’s character and the nature of greed. If someone followed, they would only need to ask him the same questions and they’d have the information too. It was too risky and there were better, cleaner ways. She decided to test the balance.
She leaned in, knowing the boy saw a lieutenant from the EvenSea militia, and asked, “You’re the brains here, aren’t you? I mean, despite what your auntie says, you’ve got the eye for coin.”
The boy didn’t blink, only turned to her and shrugged. “I keep us in business. Had to ever since…” He trailed off, then his eyes focused back on her. “I’d know yer business before I go rattin’ out other travelers. Not good fer business if our patrons end up dead.”
Sai’ken flipped her fingers and the copper turned into an imperial aurum. She held it up so that the light glinted off the gold and said, “And how much does this help your business?”
The boy’s eyes widened. He must’ve known an aurum would be a month’s worth of income, especially if it were real. He reached out, and Sai’ken dropped the coin in his palm. It fell with the solid weight of gold, enough so that the boy raised the coin and bit into it to see if lead showed beneath. Sai’ken waited to see if nobility or greed would win his heart.
When it was clear the aurum was real, he said, “They’re headin’ to a place between Dawnlight and Respite, northwest of the Summer Pass.”
Greed had won. Sai’ken looked around, th
en held out her hand. “I thank thee.”
The boy’s eyebrows drew together at that, her odd high speech no doubt the cause, but shook her hand nonetheless for a deal done. He barely felt the small slice of Sai’ken’s fingernail on the inside of his wrist. The dragon in the guise of a man bowed once, then turned and walked out the door.
Sai’ken took comfort in the fact that this boy would share another meal with his family, enjoying their odd predilection for prayer and ritual. He’d probably laugh over that funny girl and her soldier brother they met today and fleeced for good coin. He’d feel good his auntie and he were running a profitable business at the Sunsetter Inn. He’d go to sleep and die peacefully, leaving behind an aurum for his family to cherish, and silence in his wake.
True, the Rais were tasked with brute enforcement. They kept the Law of the Way and meted out punishment to those who would threaten its existence. They were the might of the Way manifest, the strong arm of justice when needed, and she truly loved them for it.
Sais were different. They silently served the people of Edyn both as protector and nurturer, like a gardener tending to her garden. They focused on building a better society, free of wickedness, lies, and cruelty, the kind that choked the life out of what was essentially good folk. Sai’ken didn’t look back as she made her way out of Westbay.
Pulling weeds was all part of a good day’s work, she thought happily, as she headed northwest toward Dawnlight, and her garden would be better for the deeds done here.
Lore Mother
It is easier for some men to die,
Than to endure pain in silence.
- Toorval Singh, Memoirs of a Mercenary
He’d left Lilyth’s castle, teleporting on a whim to an island he thought was north—if that was even a direction here. The sun moved across the sky here but had not on Lilyth’s island, so Duncan inferred that each island rotated independently, creating its own day-night cycle. Why he didn’t perceive the tilt was another curiosity he could not explain, but he could see some islands rotating and others hanging motionless. Perhaps here the sun stayed in one place? Strange, but immaterial to recovering his family.