by Jak Koke
I hope the rock folk around here won’t cause trouble, because in less than two days I will unleash the elementals and tunnelers. They will rip into the hard, red flesh of the rock in search of the most precious metal in all the world. Orichalcum!
This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
51
Jak Koke
That word shone brightly in Sarbeneck’s mind.
Orichalcum was the reason he’d accepted this expedition, despite obvious danger and secrecy. It was everywhere in this stone; he could smell it. He just hoped the precious metal ran in veins as he had been told. If so, he would insert his version of a needle into the rock’s vein and drain it of the ore.
Sarbeneck combed his fingers through his beard and watched as Gingreth released his workers to the mess tent for dinner. Through the sheets of rain, he looked over his camp.
Three large tents crowded the small clearing next to the cliff, the sheer face of which rose up and up — a massive wall of stone extending into the layer of cloud and above. He had chosen the location with care; it was hard to see from the trail nearby and it was close to the mining site. The clearing was a bit too small to accommodate the whole camp, but that was a minor difficulty. Tomorrow more trees would have to be cut.
Yellow light peeked under the walls of the two large brown tents which housed the miners and equipment. The green tent which held the Nuinouri in slumber shimmered slightly with a crackling aura of magic. Without the tunnelers, Sarbeneck’s job would take ten times longer. They were dangerous and hard to move around, but worth it once the digging started.
The space around and between the large tents teemed with the small hut-like structures of the orks and their families, in addition to many wagons and carts. Smoke poured from a center hole in one of the large tents, and the smell of cooking meat came from it: Sarahem’s domain. In the trees adjacent to the kitchen and mess tent was a huge pen, roped-off to contain the oxen and pigs. The corral for the horses and thundra beasts was out of Sarbeneck’s view in the trees on the other side of the camp. The cavalry was supposed to have set up a perimeter guard against any threats, but Sarbeneck didn’t think that had been done yet.
This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
52
Jak Koke
He pulled his leather coat tightly around him. It was almost dark and getting cold. Tomorrow he would go with a small team to peruse the rock face and look for a good place to begin the dig. He remembered the conversation with Pontin Nemish back in Throal. Pontin was a thin dwarf with a pleated red beard, and he had spoken with a high voice, telling Sarbeneck about the orichalcum in this rock. Where to find the tepuis. Where to find the vein of ore.
Pontin had told Sarbeneck that it was foolish to refuse his offer; there were other mining companies eager to accept.
Pontin had chosen Sarbeneck because of his excellent repu-tation for discretion and for following instructions precisely.
Pontin had shown him a pouch of jewels — a fortune which he claimed was merely a down payment.
Back in the comfort of Throal, Sarbeneck had cast aside his curiosity and suspicions even though he hated Pontin’s whining voice and arrogance. Sarbeneck had accepted the job.
With that kind of profit, he could afford to retire after this. He wanted so much to just live out the rest of his days in peace.
Now, he caught sight of Gingreth hurrying through the rain toward him, mud splashing up around his boots. The ork coiled his whip and hooked it into his belt.
“Nice day,” Sarbeneck said, wincing as a concussion of thunder shook the air around him.
“Just lovely.” Gingreth stepped under the flap of tent and shook water from his long, curly hair.
Sarbeneck stood to meet him. “What brings you?” he asked.
“The dwarf from the town is here to see you. He said it’s important.”
Sarbeneck looked past Gingreth, catching sight of three dwarfs on miniature horses being detained by a huge ork mounted on the horned back of a thundra beast. “Let them through, I suppose.”
This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
53
Jak Koke
Gingreth waved his arm at the guard, then followed Sarbeneck into the tent.
“Wine, my friend?” Sarbeneck asked.
Gingreth nodded.
Sarbeneck pulled a wine skin from its hook on the tent’s center pole and poured two cups. He handed one to Gingreth just as the three dwarfs stepped under the flap of the awning, shaking themselves free of rain.
“Come and share wine with me and my friend,” Sarbeneck said.
Pontin pulled his hood back, revealing neatly coifed red hair. “Thank you, I shall.” The other two drew heavy battle axes and stood at the entrance to the tent.
Sarbeneck suppressed a sudden burst of laughter. As if these two dwarfs could do anything to prevent a hundred angry orks from killing their master if the orks were so inclined.
What he said was, “Horrid weather, eh?” He handed a glass of wine to Pontin.
“Yes, well, this is pretty normal.” He sipped the wine tentatively. “I have brought your first instructions,” he said, pulling a scroll case from inside his blue cloak. Sarbeneck noticed a beautiful brooch in the form of a scarab beetle pinned to Pontin’s cloak.
Very valuable, he thought. Probably magical even. Sarbeneck had an eye for these things.
Pontin handed the scroll to Sarbeneck, never looking at Gingreth.
Sarbeneck opened the scroll case, sliding out the parchment.
“You will notice the clearing on the west side of the rock,”
Pontin said. “There is a mark on the map, a little ways up the rock from the clearing. That is where you should dig.”
The map was three dimensional rendering of the rock and surrounding areas. It was expertly done, and quite unusual; This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
54
Jak Koke
Sarbeneck had searched the Great Library of Throal for detailed maps of this part of the Servos Jungle, but he had been unable to find anything.
“Do you see the spot?” Pontin said, giving a smug smile.
The encampment clearing was easy to find because it had been painted in brown in a space next to the rock. Sarbeneck caught sight of a small black dot on the surface of the rock. Impossibly thin filaments of gold ink traced meandering patterns throughout the rock, but they all came together in a twisting bundle connecting the black dot to the center of the rock. “Yes,” he said, “I see it.”
“Good.” Pontin sipped his wine. “When can you start digging?”
“Tomorrow.”
“And your security is going to be ready for possible retalia-tion by the rock people?”
Sarbeneck glanced up at Gingreth.
The ork answered. “The cavalry is itching for a fight,” he said. “I feel sorry for anyone who attacks us.”
“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear,” Pontin said. “You’ve done an excellent job so far. Now, I must go. No one in this area can know of my involvement.”
“Understood,” said Sarbeneck, but he didn’t like it. Still, for this kind of money, he would put up with almost anything.
Pontin raised his glass. “To success,” he said.
“To a quick and profitable venture,” Sarbeneck said, swallowing his wine. But the taste was bitter and harsh against his throat.
Thunder crashed again, rattling the lantern against the tent pole as Pontin and his guards stepped into the rain. Sarbeneck’s stomach grumbled as he sank into his chair and closed his eyes. Raggok take this damned jungle, he thought, wishing he were somewhere else. Anywhere else.
This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Chapter Eight
&
nbsp; Pabl found Jan and Celagri at Samson’s Inn, and when he told them about his plans to see Ohin Yeenar, Jan eagerly accepted the chance to come along. Pabl laughed at his friend’s fickle nature. The dwarf had only been in his hometown of Rabneth for four days, and he was already bored and itching to get away again.
By contrast, Celagri wanted some time to relax, so she decided to stay near Tepuis Garen and await their return. It had become her tradition to visit the local elven community wher-ever she traveled, and she’d discovered that there was a large grove of homes not too far from Rabneth.
Bintr and Chaiel joined them on the eastern-most path, and they all four headed deeper into the jungle. Bintr assured them that the trip to Othellium should take no more than two or three days, but they would have to acquire the help of a Cathan guide. The Cathan people had been described to Pabl as skittish and paranoid — short humans whose olive skin was camouflaged with elaborate patterns of white and green pigmented tattooing.
After three hours of bushwhacking along the trail that 55
Liferock
56
Jak Koke
had been used mostly by the slighter-built elves and humans, Pabl and the others approached the Cathan camp. Abruptly, a group of the strange humans surrounded them, swinging out from the vines and trees of the jungle around them. The painted humans were hard to see against the shifting background of green and brown vegetation. It was a good thing that they knew Bintr and trusted him; at least as much as they trusted anyone, which was not a lot.
Still, one of them — a female who had guided Bintr in the past — offered to help again. For payment she wanted the newly forged arrowheads which Bintr had brought. She came along immediately, Bintr doling out one arrow head at a time along the way.
As they traveled, hacking through vines and thick undergrowth, Jan told Pabl about Pontintown — the shantytown along the stream in Rabneth, named after Pontin Nemish, the dwarf who owned and operated it. Jan had spoken with his friend, Abrin Thist, who was on the town council. And together they had confronted Pontin, trying to convince him to do something about cleaning up the shantytown. Pontin had listened to them, saying he would consider their words.
“The humans and dwarfs who live in those bamboo shacks are nearly destitute,” Jan told Pabl. “They are unsanitary and many of them have animals which pollute the water down-stream. The townspeople are afraid to do anything because Pontin Nemish is the leader of the village assembly and no one dares to oppose him.”
“We will persuade him,” Pabl had said. “When we get back.”
He said this last which such finality that Jan quieted, and neither of the spoke further of the matter. Pabl’s mind was on Reid Quo and Ohin Yeenar, and he did not feel much like conversation. Jan knew Pabl’s moods and had remained unusually quiet for the rest of the journey.
This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
57
Jak Koke
Two days later, their guide informed them that they had arrived. She led them carefully down into a river valley. Peeking through the thick undergrowth, Pabl caught sight of a rundown temple made of quartz and brown glass, sitting high on the rocky bank of a slow moving river.
Here in the heart of the jungle, the temple had succumbed to the encroaching vegetation. Cloudy white pillars of pitted quartz held a domed roof in their precarious grasp. Cracked and dirty flagstones, engraved with pictures of the Othellium brotherhood, made up the floor of the place. Everything was covered with jungle; thick vines crawled over the temple, burying it in foliage.
The bank dropped off to the left of the temple, a good fifty-foot slide down into the slow moving brown water. Pabl caught sight of a large crocodile slipping into the water on the far bank, and he smelled a whiff of rotting vegetation coming from the river.
“Are you sure he lives here?” It was Jan’s voice, from behind him.
Pabl glanced at the Cathan guide, her camouflage-painted body barely visible against the undergrowth. “This is where we will find Ohin Yeenar?”
She nodded. “The one you look for is here,” she said. “Rock man like you, but all white.”
Bintr handed the human another arrowhead which she tucked into a pouch on her waist. “Pabl,” he said, “we should be quiet; I am sure he knows we’re here. Last time, he stopped me just as I stepped on the flagstones. When I asked him about Reid Quo, he said he would not speak with me because I held conversations with the dead. Then he disappeared.
Maybe he will talk to you.”
“Maybe,” Pabl said, “But look there.” He pointed across the flagstones to a small brackish pool with a windling-sized statue of Dis next to it. The statuette had been placed there This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
58
Jak Koke
purposely, its emaciated body staring at them with hollow eyes as shackles looped around and through its flesh. Grime smeared the tiles around the pool, and the water had been left stagnant to grow algae and fester. The arrangement was a clear signal, part of a language that the non-obsidiman of the group would not understand.
It was doubtful that Ohin Yeenar followed the teachings of Dis or in any way respected the Passion of confusion and slavery, but he did not want visitors, and the pool arrangement was a clear warning to any obsidiman that he wanted to be left alone.
Bintr shuddered.
Chaiel was watching also. “We can’t just leave.”
“We will not leave without trying to talk to him,” Pabl said.
“I will go.”
“I come with you,” Chaiel said.
“Maybe we should think this through first,” said Bintr.
“All right,” Pabl said. “Besides, I want to look at the temple’s astral image.”
“I have already seen it,” Bintr said. “It’s sad.”
Pabl focused, feeling a slight strain as he nudged his sight into the astral plane. The shimmering radiance of the astral grew in front of his eyes as the magic took hold. Pabl could see the astral imprint of the Othellium temple, glowing bright white, still very majestic and strong despite its physical appearance. Then he saw part of the temple’s pattern, following the structure of the rock itself — an arch of white atop stri-ated pillars. But the temple’s connection to the liferock looked tenuous.
The great quartz deposit beneath the flagstones held a pattern reminiscent of Pabl’s own liferock, though much smaller. Pabl could almost fathom the entire pattern — something that would never have been possible with Ganwetrammus, which was massive beyond his comprehension. In places This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
59
Jak Koke
the white pattern of the temple dimmed to gray wisps, fragile and withering.
Dead. This liferock is dead.
A profound sadness took Pabl’s breath away. He let the magic falter, focusing on the physical world. “I didn’t see a lot, except that the liferock is dead. Gvint said as much, but I don’t see how that could happen?”
Bintr answered him. “It’s not supposed to.”
Chaiel said nothing.
“Bintr, you stay here,” Pabl said. “We already know he won’t speak with you. Jan and the Cathan can also stay.”
Jan nodded at that.
“Chaiel,” Pabl said. “You ready?”
Chaiel nodded, his jaw clenched tight. He pulled his troll-sized sword from its sheath and held it ready.
“Let’s go then.” Pabl stepped out into the clearing and Chaiel came close behind. They made their way onto the flagstones, giving the Dis statuette and the stagnant pool a wide berth as they headed for the temple’s entrance.
The flagstones felt cold through the soft cloth of Pabl’s boots. After three steps the cold grew, becoming a seeping chill which crept into his feet and legs. He could see t
hat Chaiel was affected the same way. A few more steps and the cold had penetrated into the bones of Pabl’s legs, making his joints lock up.
Chaiel fell behind him, his sword clanging on the rock.
“It’s a trap,” he said.
Pabl stopped moving, kneeling against the icy stone. He pushed the shivers from his mind and wove the thread for a spell. The thread completed the pattern and the spell went off, trying to annul the cold magic.
Nothing. Just the ever increasing chill.
“Stop!” The voice ground the air like pebbles in a bird’s craw.
This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
60
Jak Koke
Does it look like we’re moving? Pabl thought. Then he felt a tightening grip of magic, unrelated to the cold, try to hold him motionless. He resisted it, despite his frozen bones and the magical grip slipped off.
Chaiel had not fared so well, Pabl saw when he glanced around. His brother was frozen in mid rise, one knee and hand on the ground, his head looking up, startled.
“Wait!” Pabl cried. “We come only to talk with you. And share —”
“Leave my rock.”
How do you propose we do that? Pabl thought. The chill coming from the flagstones seemed to be slowing, but he still found it hard to move. Behind him, Chaiel was as still as a statue.
The gravel voice spoke again. “What did you say? Speak again!”
“We come in search of knowledge. To share our water with you and ask questions. You may be the only one who can help.”
There was a long silence.
“You would share water with me? Who are you?”
“I am Pabl Evr of Tepuis Garen. Our next Elder has not returned to the rock, and you may be the only one to have seen him since the Long Dreaming.”
“If you are sincere, Pabl Evr, and your water is pure, I will answer your questions. Your brother must go.”