Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2)

by Hans Cummings

  Pancras didn’t need to meet her eyes to see Gisella’s expression. The ice in her voice told him all he needed to know. He shook his head. “The thought never entered my mind. I think it would be best to leave first thing in the morning. It’s already too late for us to make any progress toward Cliffport today.”

  Gisella covered her mouth and nodded. “I expected more of an argument from you.”

  “I’m nothing if not practical.” He tossed a couple of silver talons on the table. “Let’s break the news to Qaliah and Edric. Let’s be done with this.”

  The inevitable confrontation with Edric gnawed at Pancras’s gut like a boggin. He imagined the verbal abuse the dwarf would hurl at him. Qaliah would likely not be happy either. Perhaps they will both remain here.

  Pancras felt apathetic about Edric. He didn’t mind the dwarf’s company, but he hardly considered him a friend. He’d grown fond of the fiendling since they left Muncifer, even though she shot him in the chest and killed him. He rubbed the scar through his robes. In a way, she reminded him of Delilah, and Pancras hoped she would continue to travel with them to Vlorey, for no other reason than that.

  The sun hung low in the sky by the time they reached the jail. Thin clouds were wisps of pink and crimson in the western sky, backlit by a fiery orb. A light breeze blew the earthy odors of nearby pottery kilns through the air. He paused to scrape accumulated mud from his hooves before entering the building. The constant filth served as a bitter reminder of the lack of such in Drak-Anor.

  Lady Aveline distributed evening assignments to guardsmen gathered in the front room of the prison. After checking their equipment, they left one by one and headed out to Mudder’s Gate, the marketplace, or Vineyard Hill, the district where all the wealthier citizens of Curton lived. She noticed Gisella and Pancras standing near the door and nodded an acknowledgement as she distributed a final assignment.

  “Patrol the metalworking district. I’ve heard some grumbling in the drak community about unfair treatment by a few of the smiths. We’ve had to break up some fights in the square at Copper Street and Iron Way over the last few days. Disperse any unruly crowds, but don’t bother arresting anyone until blood is spilled. The draks’ grievances are just. All right?”

  “Understood, mi’lady.” The guard saluted Lady Aveline, turned on his heel and left.

  “Here to collect your fiendling?”

  Pancras crossed his hand over his chest and bowed. “To talk to her at least. We’re not resuming our journey until the morning.”

  “Fine. Follow me.” She grabbed a ring of keys from a hook on her desk and led them down the stairs at the back of the jail. Lanterns sputtered in the damp darkness, casting dim, yellow light into the stone corridor. Stopping before the first cell, she unlocked it. She held the door open for Pancras and Gisella. After they entered the cell, she locked it behind them.

  “Let me know when you want out. I’ll be just down the hall.”

  Qaliah lay on the cot with her fingers interlaced behind her head. She glanced at Gisella and Pancras as they entered. “I guess you heard the news, huh?”

  “Yes. We’re leaving tomorrow.” Pancras stood at the end of the cot. Gisella offered a hand to Qaliah.

  The fiendling ignored the helping hand. “Edric’s hearing with the magistrate isn’t for a few days.”

  “That’s right. Could be nearly a week, we hear.” Gisella nodded. “After which he’ll be indentured, and maybe put into stocks.”

  Qaliah sat upright and slammed her fist into her palm. “The perfect time to spring him and run! Why aren’t we waiting around for that?”

  Pancras eyed Gisella. “We feel further antagonizing the law and people of Curton will lead nowhere good.”

  “So you’re just going to abandon him?”

  “Those Edric wronged deserve justice.” Gisella held Qaliah by the shoulders. “We won’t force you to leave your friend, but the people of this city view you with suspicion, if not outright contempt. It’ll be safer with us.”

  “I get blondie here.” Qaliah glared at Pancras. “But why are you so quick to abandon your friend?

  How can I make her understand? Pancras rubbed his horn. “Edric is little more than an acquaintance. I am content to let him travel with me, but I’m not willing to pay for every mistake he makes and become a fugitive myself to ensure he doesn’t suffer the consequences of his poor judgement.”

  “I thought that’s what friends do.”

  “True friends have sense enough to know when to not bring their friends down with them. Besides, he has often spoken of his lack of enthusiasm for our upcoming sea voyage.” Gisella turned from Qaliah and rattled the cell doors.

  “We’ll return for you on our way out of town.” Pancras waited by the cell door. “You have until then to decide if you’re going to burden yourself with Edric’s punishment or come with us.”

  Lady Aveline returned to let them out of the cell. Qaliah lay down again on the cot, her back facing the door.

  “Take us to Edric now, if you please.” Pancras bowed his head to Lady Aveline. She locked up and then led them to the dwarf’s cell, two doors away at the end of the hall.

  “You can talk through the bars to this one.” She turned and walked toward the stairs, stopping at their base, far enough away to afford Pancras, Gisella, and Edric some measure of privacy but close enough to observe them.

  The dwarf sat on the edge of his cot, his short legs dangling above the floor. His beard was tangled and knotted, and his eyes were red and bleary from a lack of sleep and what Pancras assumed was a hangover.

  “Come to get me out?”

  Pancras sighed, grasped one of the bars of the cell, and shook his head. “No. The fines and damages you owe are too great for me to cover.”

  Edric laughed and hopped off his cot. He stepped over to Pancras and Gisella. “That bad, huh? Ah well, I knew my luck would run out sometime.”

  Gisella furrowed her brow. “You understand that we’re leaving, yes? Tomorrow?”

  The dwarf shrugged. “Everyone abandons me at some point.” He waved his hand. “I was serious about maybe staying here. I didn’t want to get on that ship anyway.” He gripped the bars of his cell. “Do you know why dwarves don’t like water?”

  “You said yourself, dwarves are poor swimmers. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Pancras never felt comfortable in water that was deeper than chest height. “I’m a poor swimmer, too.”

  “Sure, but at least you float.” Edric’s eyes widened as they flicked to briefly focus on Gisella. “Dwarves sink like stones.”

  “You’d be on the ship, not on the water.” Pancras was certain Edric’s exaggerations were based on unfounded fears.

  Edric grabbed Pancras’s sleeve through the bars. “I don’t fancy an ocean voyage. One bad storm, one misstep, and over the side I’ll go. Dwarves don’t go on the oceans.”

  “You’d be the first dwarf, then. A pioneer.” Pancras pulled his sleeve out of Edric’s grasp.

  “I’ll be the next in a long line of fools at the bottom of the ocean. There aren’t any Soul Forges there, and I’ll be trapped in a stony corpse for eternity. No thank you.”

  Pancras heard that dwarves turned to stone after death, but he was not versed in their afterlife. “What are you talking about?”

  “We are of the earth. We do not float in water. We sink. A few minutes after going overboard, I’ll be dead. I’ll become a statue of a drowned dwarf, and no one will take me back to a dwarven city to be consumed in a Soul Forge. My spirit will be trapped at the bottom of the ocean until the world’s ending. I. Am. Not. Going.”

  Edric quivered as he made his point. Pancras rubbed his right horn and sighed. “Help me understand. What is a Soul Forge?”

  “Do you not know anything of dwarven culture?” The dwarf threw up his hands.

  “No. I’ve never lived around dwarves.” Pancras glanced at Gisella. Her brow furrowed as she listened to the dwarf. “They didn’t exactly leave histo
ry books lying around Muncifer when they left after The Sundering.”

  “I’m not a scholar. Look, our stony corpses fuel the magical furnaces that power our cities. Burning a dead dwarf in a Soul Forge releases his soul to the afterlife.” Edric waved his hand. “Maybe I won’t fall overboard. Maybe I will. I don’t care what debt I owe you or anyone else. I’ll risk my life but not my soul.”

  “Qaliah thinks we should find a way to free you, at any cost.” Pancras clasped his hands behind his back.

  “It’d be nice to have friends who’d do that for me.” Edric regarded them, his hands on his hips. “I ain’t foolish enough to think we’re that close. It’s been interesting, but I think we can agree it’s time to part ways.”

  Pancras took a deep breath. “I confess I’m surprised to hear this from you.” Regardless of Edric’s feelings on being left behind, it still didn’t sit well with the minotaur.

  “I know if I was one of those draks, you’d burn this town to help them, but I’m just a dwarf, and you’re a minotaur.” Edric nodded at Gisella. “Me and her don’t have enough history to ruin our lives for each other. So, go. Take the fiendling and try not to get killed.”

  “And what will you do?” Gisella knelt so she was eye level with Edric.

  “What I always do. Pay my debts. Then find someplace else to live. There’s a dwarven city in the mountains south of here. They haven’t heard of me, so maybe I can go there and stay a while.” Edric shooed them away. “It ain’t the first time I’ve been in jail. It won’t be the last. I don’t expect you to do nothing for me, and like I said, I ain’t gettin’ on no ship.” He glanced over his shoulder at them. “If what you got to do in Vlorey saves the world, then all I ask is you don’t fail. I like not being undead.”

  The dwarf climbed up on his cot and lay down. Closing his eyes, he crossed his hands over his chest. Pancras watched him for a moment. In Drak-Anor, most folk watched out for one another and would not lightly abandon a friend in need. Edric was a dwarf, however, and Pancras spent many years helping the city defend against them until Delilah helped bridge the gap that divided them. He accepts his fate. Who am I to argue otherwise, when he clearly deserves to face justice, no matter how petty his crimes may seem? Pancras squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He nodded once before turning and clomping down the hallway toward Qaliah’s cell and Lady Aveline. He heard Gisella follow after him.

  As he passed the fiendling’s cell, he paused and turned his head. “We’ll be back in the morning. Think of where you’d rather be: in a city full of people who want to hang you because of what you are, or with us, going to Vlorey.”

  * * *

  Kale held the door open for Ori and Kali. “So this is the storefront. We’ve cleaned it up but haven’t done anything with it. The hallway leads back to a storage room and our living quarters.”

  “Those are off limits.” Kali stood at the end of the counter as Ori glanced down the hallway.

  “Both or just your living quarters?” The blue drak knelt, disappearing behind the counter. He stood up and surveyed the store, nodding.

  “The living quarters.”

  Kale stepped over to his mate. “We’ve just been storing food in the other room but not enough to fill it.”

  Ori ran his hand along one of the shelves behind the counter. “If I wanted to make some changes up here, you know, make the space more suited to my needs, would you object?”

  Kale turned to Kali. She shook her head. His eyes returned to Ori. “I guess not. You’ll have to pay for it yourself.”

  “Of course!”

  Kali touched Kale’s shoulder. Turning, she returned to the living quarters. Ori dropped his pack on the floor behind the counter and stepped around to the other side.

  “I’ll start immediately.” The blue drak stopped when he reached Kale. “You have every right to think I’m working for Boss Steelhand, but I’m not. I just want to make an honest living. You’ll see.”

  “We’ll see.” Kale, still unsure if he should trust anyone associated with the minotaur, nodded. “We’re not planning to go anywhere today, so come and go as you need.”

  He waited until Ori left the shop and then joined Kali in the hearth room. She was cutting up dried meat and vegetables and throwing them in a kettle suspended over the fire.

  “What do you think?”

  Kali laid down her knife. “I’m not convinced he’s on the up-and-up, but if he is, this could be lucrative for us.”

  “I guess I’ll work on a better lock for the basement door. Those books and stuff are probably worth a fortune to the right people.” Kale didn’t want to risk Boss discovering what was under the store, assuming the minotaur wasn’t already aware.

  “Shout if you need anything.”

  Kale returned to the storefront to find Delilah waiting for him. He embraced his sister and shouted for Kali.

  “I can’t stay long, Kale.” Delilah nodded her greetings to Kali. “I wanted to see you before—”

  “What’s going on?” Kali took Kale’s arm in hers.

  “It’s long and complicated.” Delilah’s eyes narrowed as she gave them a sidelong glance. “I’m not sure I understand it all myself. The short of it is: I’m heading west into the mountains to search for a dragon.”

  Kale’s jaw dropped. “A dragon? What dragon?”

  “The archduke’s court wizard, Theros, thinks it’s one of the Firstborne. Pyraclannaseous. She’s his sister, Kale.”

  Kali scratched her head. “The court wizard’s sister is a dragon?”

  “No! Terrakaptis, the dragon who lives in Drak-Anor. Pyraclannaseous is his sister.”

  Kale rubbed the mark on his chest. “I have to go with you.”

  “You’re not leaving me behind!” Kali squeezed his arm.

  Delilah paced in circles as she held her head. “Ugh, this is such a mess! The archduke wants me to find the dragon and convince her and the giants to be friends. The archmage wants me to find the dragon and convince her to kill the giants. The high wizards just want me to bring back as much information as possible, not kill the giants, and avoid the dragon.”

  “Why you?” Kali held her hand out and shrugged.

  “Drak.” Delilah pointed at herself. “Stripes.” She pointed outside. “Dragon.”

  Kale understood. “They all think because you’re a Child of Destiny, you can make nice with the dragon and solve all their problems for them.”

  “But you’re just a novice, right?” Kali shook her head and glanced at Kale. “This is insane!”

  “The humans believe it worse than the draks around here do.” Kale chuckled. The absurdity of it all might be funny if their quest weren’t so dangerous.

  “The archmage made me his apprentice officially so he can boss me around without the other masters interfering.” Delilah threw her staff to the floor and stomped her foot. “We should have run away with Pancras, Kale!”

  “And that slayer would have hauled you right back here”—Kale pulled his sister into a hug—“or killed you.”

  Delilah pushed him away. “We could have taken her.” She wiped her nose. “Life was easier when we were just hexing oroqs and fighting off the dwarves.”

  The door creaked open as Ori returned, carrying a crate of supplies.

  “Oh no.” Kale slapped his forehead. “What are we going to do about Ori and Boss Steelhand?”

  Delilah eyed the newcomer. “Who’s this? Who’s Boss Steelhand?”

  Kale explained the situation to her, careful to avoid mentioning his concerns about the minotaur finding out about the library on the stairs and the moon gate while Ori was in the room.

  Ori grinned and bowed to Delilah. He placed his crate on top of the counter and then took her clawed hand in his and brought it to his lips. “What a vision! I am most honored to meet you. I assume you’re Kale’s kin?”

  Delilah scowled and snatched back her hand. “He’s my brother.” She leaned in close to Ori, baring her teeth. “My twin
brother. Better wash those lips before the curse consumes you.”

  Ori rubbed his mouth and then laughed. “Oh, I like her. Curse? Because you’re hatched from the same egg, right?” He stepped over to the door and held it open as a stream of draks carried in crates and stacked them in front of the counter.

  Kale rested his head on Kali’s shoulder as he glanced at his sister. “Your complications are even more complicated now, Deli.”

  Chapter 21

  Gisella stood in the doorway of Pancras’s room as he sorted through his pack. “I didn’t expect Edric to accept his fate so calmly.”

  “Nor did I. It makes sense, I suppose.” Pancras pulled a black leather belt out of his pack, then shook his head and shoved it in again.

  “How so?” Gisella cocked her head. She hadn’t become well acquainted with the dwarf during their journey from Muncifer. Edric spent most of his time over the past few months harassing or being harassed by Qaliah. She assumed he was close friends with the minotaur. She was, apparently, mistaken.

  “He joined up with the draks and me after being banished from Ironkrag. He didn’t say for what, exactly.” Pancras closed his pack and set it in one of the chairs. “I assumed it was for shaming his house with excessive gambling debt or some such. He didn’t offer, and I didn’t ask. Frankly, I’m surprised he stayed with us this long.

  “Qaliah will take it hard. She developed quite a rapport with the dwarf. Edric entertained her during the long journey because he tolerated and participated in her manic fun.” Gisella doubted the minotaur would do the same. Perhaps this will be a good opportunity to train her as a sparring partner.

  “She may choose to remain behind.”

  Gisella considered it. She scratched her head. “I think I would prefer her to come along.”

  “Oh?” Pancras rubbed his chin. “Well, she’s welcome, of course.”

  “I don’t know what we’re going to find in Vlorey. She might come in very handy up there. I hear fiendlings aren’t uncommon in the city.” Gisella suspected Qaliah would be more than happy to act as a spy on their behalf, should such services be required.