Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2)

by Hans Cummings

  With the help of Edric and Kali, Kale visited every tavern, alehouse, and gambling den in Almeria while leaving his sister to study her grimoire. Though she didn’t say it, he understood she appreciated the solitude. Pancras kept to himself most of the time, poring over scrolls and tomes Lady Milena and her brother brought him as he sought an answer to the question they all wanted answered: why was he alive?

  It was a question Kale intended to leave to those smarter than he. In truth, he was eager to return to the road. Of the five of them, only Pancras had been to Muncifer before, and the stories he told at dinner piqued Kale’s curiosity.

  “Muncifer was once a proud dwarven city.”

  Edric raised his goblet to this.

  “It was until The Sundering, that is. When the world broke, Muncifer was exposed. Great rifts and cracks in the earth opened up. Half of the city fell away into the Maelstrom. When the world was healed, it remained exposed. Most of the dwarves left, seeking solace with their brethren living under the mountains.”

  This was a familiar story for Kale. It nearly destroyed the world. He wasn’t sure what caused it; some said it was the death of one of the gods, Rannos, the Dragon Father. The fae fled, arcane energies infusing the world diffused, and whole nations were destroyed. Since the healing of the world began, magic returned and the fae reappeared, but in every corner of Calliome, evidence of The Sundering remained. The chaos rift through which he was thrown before they left Drak-Anor was one such scar.

  “Aye, the dwarves left, and the minotaurs moved in.” Edric drained his goblet and belched.

  “Minotaurs and humans.” Pancras reached across the table and helped himself to another slab of meat from the roast the kitchen sent up. “There were some draks and a few dwarven traders now and again.”

  “Draks?” Kali perked up. “What clans?”

  “I don’t know, Kali. I didn’t pay much attention to draks in those days.”

  Delilah elbowed her brother in the ribs. “And now he can’t get enough of us.”

  “Are we going to be able to make it there by Spring’s Dawning, Pancras?” The more the snow melted, the more Kale worried about their timetable. “It’s a long way away, and it’s getting warmer.”

  “About six weeks away, by my reckoning.” Edric poured himself another goblet of wine.

  “Spring’s Dawning is marked by the rise of The Plow, Kale.” Pancras offered half of the slab of meat he had to Delilah. “Tinian’s Eye is still in the sky, and The Plow doesn’t appear until that’s been gone several weeks.” The drak sorceress declined with a shake of her head.

  Terrakaptis taught Kale about the constellations of stars in the sky, or tried to. There were so many to remember, each with their own story, and Kale had trouble recalling all of them. “Do you really think the humans will let us leave?”

  Pancras glanced at each of them as he thought for a moment. “Yes, I believe they will. The princess has been very gracious these last few weeks.”

  Pancras’s confidence assuaged Kale’s concerns. He couldn’t overlook, though, that it was his friendship with Kali that involved them in Almeria’s politics to begin with.

  Kali cleared her throat. “We should acquire mounts, I think.” She eyed Kale from across the table, her burnt-orange scales flashing in the light from the room’s candles and lanterns.

  Edric grunted. “I hate horses.”

  Delilah squinted at her brother. “We’ve never ridden them.”

  “I have an idea about that.” Kali nodded at Pancras. “The Firescale village is a few days west of the city. They have mounts that won’t be jittery around draks and minotaurs, and they’ll give us a better price than anyone here will. With mounts, we’ll easily make up the time it takes to detour.”

  Pancras scratched his chin and nodded. “All right. I like that idea. Let’s spend a few days wrapping up our affairs here and then resume our journey.”

  Kale raised his goblet. “Hear, hear!” The others joined him in his toast.

  After dinner, he walked down to the palace grounds with Kali. Since the gardens were soggy from melting snow, they kept to the paved paths. The two draks walked arm in arm, through the garden. Between the spongy grasses and bare flowerbeds, there wasn’t much to see, but it was a diversion from being cooped up within their quarters.

  “It’ll be nice to get back on the road.” As bored as he was hanging around the palace, Kale hoped for an uneventful journey to Muncifer.

  “I’m nervous about returning to the village. It’s been years.” Kali shook her head and kicked a rock off the path. “I fear seeing the damage Reznik did.”

  Lord Reznik’s salt mine under the city enslaved most of the draks from Kali’s home village. Having disrupted that operation and freed the slaves were memories Kale could take away from Almeria and be proud of. “I wish we could stay and help rebuild.”

  “Maybe you and your sister can come back with me when all this business with the wizards is over.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Kale wondered if his sister would be interested in relocating to a village of draks and leaving behind their friends in Drak-Anor. The thought appealed to him, but he would have preferred for the Firescale village to be farther away from Almeria.

  “One thing’s for sure: I’ll be glad to get away from all these humans.”

  Kali laughed in agreement.

  * * *

  Pancras kept to himself in the weeks following his apparent resurrection. He didn’t eschew dining with his friends or socializing when they approached him, but he did not seek out the company of others. Instead, he reflected on his experience, despite having no memory of death itself.

  That he had no memory of it troubled him.

  His withered right arm and the dark haze at the edges of his vision troubled him as well. While he attended the Arcane University, Pancras learned that rites existed to resurrect the dead, but the specific rituals associated with those rites were lost with The Sundering, and all carried with them terrible costs. Pancras couldn’t recall anything in those rituals that resembled what happened to him.

  On warmer days, he walked into town and scoured book sellers and temple libraries for volumes that might hold the answers he sought. It was clear after a few failures that Almeria was light on resources and those educated about certain arcane matters. There were temples aplenty, but none dedicated to the goddess of magic, Selene.

  “They don’t have an Arcane University, though, do they?” Delilah glanced up from her grimoire as he groused to her in front of the fire. “Why would they have a temple of Selene?”

  “She’s not an obscure or dead god, Delilah. She’s the daughter of Tinian, sister of Apellon and Anetha. They’re well-represented here.”

  “Yeah, well, they also say they’re civilized; yet, they had a salt mine under the city staffed by slaves that no one knew about.”

  “You make a good point.” Pancras slumped in his chair and sighed, rubbing his right arm. The warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth did not seem to affect the chill that lingered in his withered limb. He decided to change the subject before she buried her snout in her grimoire.

  “I think it’s time we return to the road. The worst of the winter’s storms should be over.”

  “Good. The sooner this business is over with, the better. I want to go home, Pancras.”

  Pancras agreed.

  A gust of wind from the opening doors caused the hearth to flicker. Kale and Kali bounded into the room, laughing. Delilah forced a smile onto her face and snapped her grimoire shut. The other two draks took no notice of Delilah and Pancras and helped themselves to some wine from a jug on the dinner table.

  Pancras gestured to the grimoire. “Learn anything new lately?”

  “As a matter of fact, I’ve been learning tons of earth magic. Some water magic, too. I don’t know how the book decides what to show me.” She opened the book to the page she last read. The symbols and writing were still undecipherable to Pancras.

 
“Perhaps you’re just learning techniques in the order in which Gil-Li wrote the book?” That made the most sense to Pancras.

  “Maybe.” Delilah leaned over to peer around Pancras’s chair. “Hey, lovebirds! Pancras says we’re leaving soon, so separate yourselves and get to packing!”

  “Packing?” Kale brought his goblet of wine over to the chairs in front of the fire. “We’re leaving tonight?”

  “No, not tonight,” Pancras shook his head. “Nor tomorrow. Possibly the day after. I still have a few errands I’d like to run in town.” He pointed a withered finger at Kale. “And you still have to pick up my horn tips from that jeweler.”

  “I forgot!” Kale smacked his forehead. “Things got so crazy with you dying and all. I’ll go get them first thing.”

  Pancras smiled. In truth, he’d forgotten, too. “I’ll go with you. I need to find something to cover this arm with. Maybe a leatherworker has a sleeve or something with a glove.”

  “A black glove?” Kale poked at Pancras’s arm with a clawed finger. Pancras smacked the digit away. “You can be mysterious with it.”

  “That’s what I need: to draw attention to myself.”

  “Will it matter much where we’re going?” Kali cocked her head. “Muncifer is more of a minotaur city than human, right?”

  Pancras faced her. “About fifty-fifty. Or it was twenty-five years ago. The humans there tend to be more tolerant than they are here.” He hoped the situation in Muncifer had not changed drastically since he was last there. A lot can change in a quarter-century.

  * * *

  The next morning, Delilah busied herself with packing, while Kale and Pancras went into town to take care of last-minute errands. Meanwhile, Kali volunteered to track down Edric. Half of the time, the dwarf didn’t return to the palace at night and staggered with a hangover to their quarters in the middle of the following day.

  Delilah took the liberty of sending a messenger to fetch Lady Milena so she could inform the humans of their plans. Delilah didn’t feel any obligation to be polite to the knight and the princess, but she figured they’d want to be notified Pancras was leaving. To their credit, the humans were true to their word and didn’t try to convince Pancras, or any of them for that matter, to undertake any tasks or favors over the last several weeks.

  Lady Milena arrived before any of the group returned from their errands. She seemed surprised to find Delilah alone. “Where is everyone else?” Her armor clanked as she entered the room. To Delilah, the thought of having to be clothed in that constrictive, noisy metal all day was incomprehensible. The knight cocked an eyebrow and regarded Delilah, resting one hand on the hilt of her sword.

  “They’re running errands. We’re leaving in the morning. Weather permitting.”

  Lady Milena blinked and crossed her arms. “Tomorrow? The princess wanted to have a banquet for all of you before you left. I don’t think there’s time to prepare now.”

  A banquet? I wonder if Pancras will delay our departure for a party. “Tomorrow. That’s the plan, anyway. I suppose it could change by the time Pancras returns.”

  “This seems sudden.” A frown crept across Lady Milena’s face as she listened to Delilah.

  “We have until Spring’s Dawning to get to Muncifer. We have no mounts, so unless you can magically whisk us away or are going to give us horses or something, we need to get on the road. Plus, it’ll be safer the sooner we are out of your hair.” As soon as Delilah said it, she realized the implications of her insult. She shook her head and walked toward her bedroom.

  “As you wish. I will inform the princess.” If Lady Milena took offense from Delilah’s words, she gave no indication of it. “I’ll see what we can do about arranging mounts for you, though I must caution you not to have high hopes. Almeria’s liveries are tight fisted.”

  Delilah paused, expecting Lady Milena would follow her. The knight left their chambers instead, pulling the doors shut in her wake. Delilah peeked into the parlor to ensure she was really gone. “Well, Deli-girl. Pancras would’ve dealt with that differently, probably, but he’s not here, right?”

  Chapter 3

  Now that the day of departure was upon them and the chilly breeze served as a grim reminder that winter may yet have a few more statements to make, Pancras wasn’t so sure he wanted to return to the road. Guards watched over their possessions at the palace gates while the minotaur, draks, and dwarf said their farewells to the princess.

  Princess Valene sat on the throne formerly occupied by her husband. Resplendent in a shimmering, green gown, she observed as Pancras led the draks and Edric across the throne room. A tight braid of her ebony hair fell across her shoulder, dangling between her arm and her body. Lady Milena stood in a relaxed stance to one side, two steps down from the top of the throne’s dais. Guards, garbed in the tabards of the new regime, were posted on either side of the platform and flanked each door leading into the throne room.

  Flexing his withered hand, Pancras became aware of how loudly his new leather gauntlet creaked in contrast to the relative silence of the throne room. He disliked gloves and other apparel that covered his forearms and hands, but he preferred the gauntlet over having a constant visual reminder that whatever returned him to life exacted a horrible price on his body, a toll he was not entirely certain was paid.

  The princess tilted her head toward the group approaching her throne. Pancras stopped and bowed before her, gesturing with his good hand for the draks and Edric to follow suit. “It is time for us to depart and continue our journey, Your Highness. We are eternally grateful for your hospitality and grace.” The words felt awkward on the minotaur’s tongue. Although Sarvesh disliked such platitudes, despite being the ruler of Drak-Anor, Pancras understood humans tended to appreciate such niceties.

  “So Lady Milena tells me.” The princess nodded at the knight standing by her side. “Pity we had no time to prepare a farewell feast for you.”

  Pancras’s stomach grumbled at the mention of food. “My apologies, but I fear if we do not depart immediately, I’ll lose my nerve and delay our departure until reaching Muncifer on time is impossible.”

  “I understand.” The princess gestured, and Lady Milena stepped forward to present Pancras with a piece of rolled-up parchment. “I have arranged a team of horses and wagon for you. Present this at the livery outside the city gates. If you stick to the roads, it should speed your journey.”

  Pancras bowed again. “You have our thanks.” He turned, but he stopped and addressed the princess one final time. “May Anetha grant you the wisdom to enjoy a long, prosperous rule.”

  “You will be welcome guests any time you come to Almeria. May Dolios watch over your journey.”

  As Pancras bowed and exited the throne room, he reflected with dismay that Dolios was not only the god of travel, but also of luck, both good and bad.

  * * *

  Kale reached under his hat and scratched his head as he circled the wagon and team of horses Princess Valene provided for them. The chestnut-colored horses clomped toward him, stomping and snorting, their breath plumes of smoke in the cold morning air. Edric grunted as he climbed onto the bench at the front of the wagon. His stubby legs kicked as he struggled to maintain balance while reaching down to grab the reins.

  “You know how to drive one of these?” Pancras regarded Edric as he offered Delilah a hand to help her into the wagon. Kali boosted Delilah up, even as the sorceress tried to brush away the other drak’s helping hands. She grabbed onto one of the wooden rails that arced over the bed of the wagon. A canvas cover was rolled up and secured to one side of the bed, intended for use as protection during foul weather. Kale hoped they’d seen the last of rain or snow for a while, but the puffy, rain-laden clouds drifting overhead threatened to dash those hopes.

  “Sure. My sister used to have one, though hers was drawn by a mule instead of two horses. She ditched it when the wheel broke, but she kept the mule. I might be rusty, but I think it’ll come back to me.”


  Pancras offered a hand to help Kali into the wagon. Kale gave her a boost and then passed their belongings up to be stowed away. He had doubts about Edric’s ability, given that the dwarf’s feet dangled in the air above the floorboard, but he kept his misgivings to himself.

  “Up here, Longshanks.” Edric patted the bench next to him as he eyed Pancras. “I’m going to need your long arms and legs until we can modify this thing to fit me better.”

  After Pancras helped Kale up and into the back of the wagon, he took his place up front next to Edric. The wagon lurched forward as Edric cracked his whip. Unprepared for such a jolt, Kale fell backward and grasped at the rails for support. Kali grabbed his arm and helped him as he righted himself.

  She glanced toward the front of the wagon. “I still think we should detour to my village and see about getting some proper mounts for the rest of us.”

  Pancras looked over his shoulder at her and nodded. “Agreed. We’ll move faster on separate mounts, and we’re traveling light enough that this wagon is overkill. What’s our route, Kali?”

  Kali clambered past the drak twins and stood at the front of the wagon. Her head barely came to Pancras’s shoulder as she stuck her snout in between the dwarf and the minotaur. “Turn south where the road splits. There should be a marked trail branching off from that after a ways that leads back toward Almeria. It cuts through some farms outside the south side of the city. We’ll have to stay on the trail overnight, but we should reach Honeywater by tomorrow night.”

  “Honeywater? That’s the name of your village?” Delilah snorted. “Home of the Firescale draks?”

  Kali glared at the laughing sorceress. “There’s a lake and lots of beehives.” She turned to watch the road and lowered her voice. “At least there were before the humans started enslaving us. The lake is still there, but few tend the hives these days.”