“Aye Agrik, ye be telling the story of the nine clans better than any dwarf I ever be hearing.” Kablis refilled the old man’s mug as he spoke. “But that willn’t be helping me to be finding the descendants. Can ye be telling me how to be knowing who they be?”
“Aye. Ye be needing a Chronicleer.” Agrik sipped his second mug of mead slowly.
“A what now?” Lers asked, leaning forward in his seat.
“A Chronicleer.” Agrik grinned slyly in Lers’s direction. “Ye willn’t be knowing one, lad.” Agrik turned his attention back to Kablis. “There be no Chronicleers here in FireFalls, but ye should be asking Machai where one be.”
Before Kablis could object that Machai was currently imprisoned in the dungeons, Agrik tipped his old bones from his chair and shuffled out of the room. Kablis stared after him with his jaw slack and frustration resurfacing. After a moment, he threw his hands up in the air and grumbled.
“If we can be sneaking into the mountain, we might as well be sneaking down to the bottom of it.”
11 — The Descendants
Kablis pressed his back against the wall and waited for the two guards to round the corner ahead of him. He had managed to reach the lowest level of the mountain without incident, but he couldn’t use the traveling spell to locate Machai because he had no idea which cell they were holding him in. Once he found the correct cell, he would have to find a way to speak with him without drawing the attention of the dungeon guards. He had passed nearly a dozen cells, all of which were empty. It was rare for the dwarves to have any prisoners, as few outsiders knew where the clan was, and everyone in the mountain worked toward the interest of the clan rather than against it.
Kablis moved slowly and deliberately, trailing behind the guards in silence at a far enough distance to remain unnoticed but close enough not to risk another guard coming up behind him. Just before he rounded the corner, Kablis heard Machai call out, “Can ye be bringing me a book at least?” One of the guards grunted and mumbled something, eliciting a loud laugh from the other guard. Their footsteps continued down the corridor, and Kablis eased his head around the corner. A small torch was burning outside one door in a long line of cells. Kablis assumed it was the only occupied chamber, and he waited until the guards were a good distance away before approaching it. The cell doors stood recessed into the wall far enough that Kablis could stand against the bars without being visible from down the passage. He hoped no one else would be coming along before he finished speaking to Machai.
“Ye be catching up on yer reading?” Kablis kept his voice low, but Machai glanced over at him through the bars with a smile.
“Aye, if ye mean me reading the passage of time in the cracks of these stone walls. What be yer plan for the gathering?” Machai wasted no time in seeking information about the progress toward recruiting the troops they had come for.
“We be needing a Chronicleer. Old Agrik be saying to be asking ye where one be.”
“Aye.” Machai nodded in thought. “I be knowing one, but I cannot be telling ye where he be. We must be speaking with Osric.”
“That be difficult with ye in there. Do ye know where they be keeping yer wand and axe?”
“Aye.” Machai grinned. “I be keeping ’em in me chambers.”
“What?” Kablis didn’t understand how that could be.
“I be knowing that Thenar would likely be overreacting. I be making sure I had me lucky charm on me.” Machai pulled a small stone from a pouch on his belt, and it glowed slightly in his cupped palm. “It be keeping the spells on the cell from blocking me magic. I be using the traveling spell to be retrieving me things as soon as they be leaving me here alone. It be making no sense to be caught outside of me cell, since then Thenar would be having proof of me treason, so I be sitting here since. Ye be taking longer than I be hoping.”
Kablis shook his head in disbelief and grinned. “Well, let us be grabbing yer gear and be going. We be having a few trips to be making.” Both dwarves whispered the spell and then appeared standing in Machai’s chambers. Machai gathered his weapons, his wand, and his traveling pack, and the two hurried down the corridor to Kablis’s rooms to meet up with the others.
Machai drew his wand and established the link to contact Osric as Kablis explained the events in the dungeon to the others. A diaphanous image of Osric appeared in a display of light above the tip of Machai’s wand, and the walls of the Aranthian barracks could be seen in the background behind him.
“How are things going there, Machai? Have you had any trouble convincing the dwarves to join with us?” Osric’s optimism was apparent in his tone, though the dark circles under his eyes and the wrinkles in his brow showed how hard the past year had been on him.
“Aye, there be trouble anywhere I be going, but I willn’t be letting ye down. We need to be speaking with Ero. Can ye be telling me how to be finding him?”
“Ero? What do you need with the eagles?” Osric asked, both surprised and concerned by the unexpected request.
“We be needing a Chronicleer, and I be hoping that Ero will be wanting to help ye again.”
“I don’t think the eagles will be willing to aid us in battle, but Ero may help us if it is his gift you are in need of. You will find him in the Caves of D’pareth, near the eastern coast. I am sure if you can get close to the nesting grounds, Ero will find you.” Osric held his hand up for them to wait. “I’ve got a better idea. I’ll summon a dragon for you and have it take you to the eagles—we don’t want you to attempt traveling that far if you’ve never been there.”
“Aye, we cannot be traveling that far anyway. We be getting tired from the extensive use of magic here.”
“What have you been doing?” Osric asked.
“It be a long story, but I can be telling ye about it when I be returning with the troops I be promising ye.”
“I look forward to hearing about it. I will have Greyback to you soon. Be careful, Machai.” Osric severed the link between wands and the image from Stanton disappeared. Machai turned to the others and nodded, a somber greeting after his time in the dungeon cell.
“Kablis and I be taking a short trip. I need ye to be learning what ye can about who be willing to aid us and who be determined to thwart us. When we be returning, ye must be ready to be leaving yer home if ye be with us. I cannot be telling when ye may be returning.” Machai needed each dwarf to understand the stakes of joining the Aranthians by fighting with him. Thenar was unlikely to view their actions as anything other than treason, regardless of what the gathering may determine as lawful. Each man nodded without hesitation, and Machai hurried out the door with Kablis to the entrance of his mountain home. They moved swiftly and silently, avoiding others in the halls in hopes that Machai’s absence would go unnoticed long enough for their allies to scatter and avoid being accused of breaking him out.
The dragon platform was located down the trail, not too far from the great doors that separated their clan from the rest of Archana. By the time Machai and Kablis arrived, Greyback was waiting patiently on the large stone platform.
“Aye, ye be as lovely as ever. Have ye fared well since we be seeing ye last?” Machai greeted the familiar dragon warmly, rubbing his small fist on her scaled snout.
“I have been doing well, and you are as fierce as ever.” Greyback nuzzled the hand affectionately. “Are you sure you wish to go to see the eagles? My first visit there didn’t go very well.”
“Aye,” Machai responded. “But this time ye will have me and me blade on yer back. If any wee eagles be seeking to attack ye, I will be having eagle stew for me supper.”
Greyback grinned in a fierce display of sharp teeth, and she lowered her wing to allow the dwarves to climb onto her back. Kablis checked the gear on her back, making sure the harnesses were well secured for their flight, and they lashed their packs behind the small seats before tightening the harnesses over their shoulders and letting Greyback know they were ready.
The dragon launched herself off of the stone slab wi
th her powerful hind legs and propelled them into the air with her wide wings. Greyback carried them swiftly into the sky, and soon the mountain faded into a hazy, snow-covered hill far below them. As she leveled out their flight, Greyback recited the traveling spell.
“Eo ire itum.” The sensation of falling was even more disorienting in mid flight than on the ground, and Machai gripped the straps of his harness tightly and squeezed his eyes closed. When he opened them, it was a very different range of mountains that spread across the land beneath them.
The snow-covered peaks had been replaced with jagged, mossy cliffs, and the roar of the ocean reached them even at the great height where Greyback hovered.
“You see that valley there, off to our right? That’s where I landed with a wounded wing. I would take you to one of the ledges, but I fear the eagles might think we are attacking.”
As Machai eyed the many dark crevices and crags along the cliffside, he noted two large shadows dancing across the rocks. With some effort, he was able to spot the giant eagles that were casting the shadows as they flew around the peaks of their home.
“Surely, they be seeing us from that vantage point. Can ye be taking us down to the ground?”
“Of course.” Greyback navigated around the lower rocks and flew out away from the mountains toward the grasslands. As soon as she had gotten away from the dangerous rocks, she landed gracefully in the open, where the eagles would be sure to find them.
Machai and Kablis had only dismounted and glanced around the area when the shadow of an eagle passed over them. They looked up just as one of the giant birds was landing nearby.
“We honor you, sister of the air. Do you bring us friends or foes upon your back?” The eagle’s voice was softer and higher than Machai expected for his size, but he hadn’t had the opportunity to speak with many eagles. Greyback responded with equal respect in her tone.
“May the winds bring you wonder. The dwarves are allies and friends of the High-Wizard. They come to seek aid from Ero, and they mean the eagles no harm.” The dragon spread her wings wide to the sun as she spoke, and the eagle nodded before taking flight. Machai watched the bird glide gracefully on the currents of air, as if they were lifting him intentionally to his home. Soon, Ero landed silently next to Greyback, greeting her warmly as though they were old friends.
Machai had not spent much time with the bird, but he had gotten to know him briefly at the battles for Braya, where they aided in freeing the dragons, and Stanton when the Kalegian had attacked. He knew the eagle to be honorable and greatly knowledgeable, as well as being a friend to Osric.
“Hello again, dwarf. What brings you to my cliffs so far from your mountain home?” Ero asked.
“Me kin and I be seeking to be aiding Osric by recruiting troops from me clan, but me clan leader be having other ideas. Me kinsman, Kablis, be calling a gathering to be overruling him, but we be needing the talents of a Chronicleer to be identifying the nine members of the gathering.” Machai nodded toward Kablis as a brief introduction and continued quickly. They had very little time to accomplish their goals, as Thenar had only allotted them three days to raise the gathering. “Will ye be willing to be aiding us?”
“I doubt that it is troops that Osric will be needing to end this conflict, but I don’t believe it would be harmful to have the dwarves working with the humans to bring peace to Archana. I will help you if I can. What exactly is it that you need?”
“We be needing the identity of the descendants of the nine dwarves at the last gathering of the first clan. According to prophecy, we cannot be holding a gathering unless we be maintaining the lines of those original participants. Those nine elders be establishing the nine clans of the Dwarven Realm, so it be likely the blood ties be staying within the clans.” Machai explained as best he could, but he was not entirely clear on what Ero would need to do to provide them with the information that they needed.
“Tracing genealogy is not usually my specialty, but as the lines are tied to prophecy, I may make an exception. Tell me, what will come of your clan if your gathering succeeds? Is this war worth the risk?”
“I cannot be saying what will be happening if we be gaining the troops, but we be assuring that Dredek be keeping the advantage over the Aranthians if we be failing. I willn’t be letting Osric down.” Machai squared his shoulders and gritted his teeth as he finished his declaration with a determined growl.
“Well then, shall we see what we can learn about the family lines of the dwarven clans?” Ero settled himself down into his feathers, tucking his wings in tight at his sides and closing his eyes. “Tell me the names of your nine gathering members, and I will see if I can glean who among the living has their blood running through them the swiftest.”
Kablis slowly spoke the names of the eldest nine members of the first clan, giving Ero time to utilize his Chronicleer ability and trace the heritage through the ages. Machai sat in wonder, as the giant eagle appeared to be merely sleeping. Yet, after a long, silent pause Ero would scratch at the ground and open one eye to gaze down at the product of his movement. When the process was complete, there were nine names and clans etched into the dirt at Ero’s feet.
Machai recited the names, committing each one to memory. The success of his mission relied on the nine dwarves, spread through the cold mountains of his realm in their respective clans, and the sun had nearly set on the first of three days.
“Ero, ye be performing a valued service for me and me kin this day. If there ever be anything that I can be doing for ye in return, ye need only be asking. I be owing ye a great debt.” Machai made a formal bow and held an open hand before him in a gesture of gratitude.
“This was a satisfying use of my ability if it will serve to unify the walkers and lead to peace in Archana.” Ero slowly nodded in acknowledgement of the gesture. “It is enough that you would return my effort with your own if ever I have need. Now, I know you are in a hurry. Be on your way, my friend.”
Machai smiled in thanks and the two dwarves ran quickly back to the waiting dragon and requested a swift return to FireFalls. Greyback roused herself from her relaxed position and allowed them to scramble up her wing to the seats on her back. She had barely cleared the tops of the cliffs when she spoke the spell and transported them back to the northern mountain range, landing on the dragon platform within a few moments of when they left the Caves of D’pareth. Machai and Kablis unlashed their packs and hopped down to the stone platform. After thanking Greyback profusely with grateful words and a generous offer of coin, Kablis asked her if she would request the aid of eight more dragons willing to travel around the Dwarven Realm. She assured him that she would have dragons waiting upon their return, but that she would not accept their coin. While the dragons often still accepted payments for transporting walkers, keeping their treasure hoards growing, none of the dragons would take coin for aiding the High-Wizard or any of the people who had helped free the elder dragons from Braya. Machai added his words of gratitude before Greyback flew off, and the dwarves traveled by spoken spell directly to the front gates of FireFalls.
Machai’s jaw was stern with determination, but the light steps that he and Kablis took assured the others of their success in identifying the gathering members. They indulged in a moment of celebratory congratulations from the assembled dwarves, but then they quickly set to the task of organizing the retrieval of nine dwarves.
“I be seeking Festil, blood of Gring in IronForge. Morgo, ye be finding Rhemt, blood of Metzel in SnowStand. Krind, Hern, blood of Stasp in BillowBluff. Batrel, be going for Furtl, blood of Myx in SteelBorne. Lers, be seeking Jom, blood of Tunft in BlackAxe. Phel, ye be heading to IceIsle for Kant, blood of Behg. Gerbim be finding Legin, blood of Ware in StoneStar. Pavyn, will ye be seeking out Prex, blood of Gyln in IronAnvil?”
“Aye,” eight unanimous voices cried out.
“Aye, and Kablis be seeking Irto, blood of Uvet,” Machai said. “He be a close advisor to Thenar, but we be hoping he can be swayed.�
� He dismissed the group of dwarves with an ancient phrase of parting: “Be swift as water, be sturdy as stone, be sharp as ye blade, and be ye soon home. The dragons be waiting, boys.”
12 — Portent Hunt
It felt good to be walking for long periods again. Though his strength wasn’t ready for a fight just yet, he was more than comfortable making excursions out into the tunnels to look for the things he needed. Dredek was finding the Portentist gift more than useful in that respect.
It had taken some getting used to, understanding the gift’s pull, but soon Dredek found it easy to determine the direction the gift was indicating with every distinct pull. At times the gift was rather alarming, as there were many dangers in the world that could hold import if one was foolish enough to partake. Learning that each pull of danger held different levels of urgency was a humiliating lesson. Everyone knew the dragon’s claw plant was dangerous when ingested, but his early experiments with the Portentist gift had him diving for cover when the door to a room containing the plant was opened. Luckily, he had been off searching rooms on his own when it had occurred.
He kept his daily searches as yet another step to help him to regain his strength, and it was working. He could feel the strength returning, and he had been able to spend a great deal more time stabilizing the Portentist gift. He thought back to the fight that he had had with Osric, wishing he had been able to retrieve the sword wand before he had to flee. All of his troubles would have solved themselves if he could have learned how to use the wand to gain powers as fast as Osric had.
Getting stabbed by the woman had been the turning point in securing the wand, and if she hadn’t arrived after he had already bonded the Portentist gift, rendering him virtually useless in battle, then they would never have escaped. But it made no sense to dwell on things beyond his control. He had gained another gift, and if his calculations were correct he would have more than enough power to complete his goals.
The Weaving of Wells (Osric's Wand, Book Four) Page 13