Shadowglade

by Kay L. Ling

  “It should be noted that possession of historical books and documents is punishable by death. The seizure and destruction of personal property continues to this day, making it—” Morodin looked up. “The rest is missing.”

  Elias said, “Sheamathan’s libraries include a great many runic volumes, and since we don’t read runes, we translate them with cyanistone. It’s fortunate that you can read this scroll. There is a great deal of information here, and it would be helpful to hear it again.”

  “Did you notice the phrase ‘weapons and gems were of no avail’?” Jules asked pointedly.

  “I certainly did,” Elias said. “It’s one of the most significant phrases. He turned to the gnomes. “What do you think it means?”

  “We’ve been puzzled by that,” Kerosten admitted. “If that passage is referring to the militia, it makes no sense.”

  Elias smiled. “Actually, it makes a great deal of sense. I hope you’re in no hurry to leave. We have many things to discuss, and you’ll find them quite surprising.”

  Chapter 28

  Just when things were getting interesting, Elias reminded Jules that visitors were waiting in the library. After taking a last look at the scroll, Jules rose. It hardly seemed fair that after putting up with the irate clan leaders he had to miss the rest of the meeting.

  Breghlin. Bah! What did Lana see in them? At least they smelled better than they used to, and their grooming had improved—no more lice in their hair or gobbets of fat in their beards. But these wouldn’t be staff breghlin. These breghlin were from outlying clans. Well, he would just have to make the best of it . . . no matter how they smelled.

  He hoped the meeting went well for Lana’s sake. Lana had a good grasp of breghlin psychology and was able to relate to them, but he found it more difficult. She claimed that if he treated them like ten-year-old humans, he’d be fine. Breghlin had an odd sense of humor and weren’t easily offended.

  When he walked into the library, five breghlin were sitting on the far side of the room with a refreshment-laden table in front of them, having the time of their lives.

  They didn’t stand when he approached, but favored him with their typical, gruesome smiles. He smiled in return, trying not to look at the bowls on the table, which held something noisome and mushy. Fruit flies buzzed overhead.

  “I’m Gem Master Jules. I understand you’re Lana’s friends.”

  A couple of them nodded. One swallowed whatever he was eating and belched.

  Jules pretended he hadn’t noticed. “Please tell me your names.”

  Each breghlin responded in turn, from left to right: Wally, Grace, Larry, Ferdinand, and Danny. They all stank to high heaven. Jules took shallow breaths through his mouth, which didn’t help much.

  A voice from behind him asked, “Can I bring you a chair, Gem Master?”

  Jules turned to see a young guard whose beard and wavy hair were an uncommon reddish-brown shade. “Yes. Thank you. If our guests have finished eating, we should send the leftovers back to the kitchen.” He braved a glance at the bowls, which contained stringy, raw meat and rotting fruit. It would be hard to talk with this revolting food here, say nothing of the fruit fly infestation.

  “I’ve had a bellyful,” Wally said, patting his stomach. Jules tried not to stare at him. Wally’s nose was enormous, and he had a lump of scar tissue on his jaw that looked like a worm stuck to his face.

  Danny reached down, fished an oozing purple fruit from a bowl, and licked off the mold. “Last one . . . promise,” he said, and popped the entire fruit into his mouth. Juice dribbled down his chin, and he wiped it off with his tunic hem.

  The guard darted a glance at Jules, conveying in that brief glance both amusement and disgust.

  “I’m done,” Grace said reluctantly. Like Danny, he grabbed one last piece of fruit and swallowed it whole. The lump passed down his throat like a rat being swallowed by a snake. After licking his sticky fingers, he wiped his hand on his pant leg.

  “Anyone else—before we take the rest away?” Jules asked dryly.

  All five breghlin looked longingly at their revolting repast and Jules half-expected them to stuff mushy fruit into their pockets.

  Grimacing with disgust, the guard scooped up the tray and carried it away. He soon returned with a chair for Jules.

  Jules sat and looked into their expectant faces. Lana had handpicked them for her Ministry of Breghlin Affairs, so the mere mention of her name would probably ensure their cooperation.

  “I’m meeting with you today since Lana couldn’t be here,” he began. “She has big plans for the breghlin community, and she believes you’re just the fellows to help her. I’m sure you know this, but she speaks very highly of you.”

  Grace’s voice trembled with emotion. “She gived us names.” He sniffed, pulled up his tunic, exposing a large quantity of unsightly flesh, and blew his nose on the hem.

  Ferdinand wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

  “So I heard,” Jules said, feeling awkward at the unexpected display of emotion.

  “She didn’t think we was oafs,” Grace continued with a sigh, “An’ she said it weren’t right that S only gived us letters for names.” His lower lip trembled, and it looked like he might start sobbing at any moment. Larry elbowed him in the ribs and whispered, “Pull yerself tergether.”

  Grace sat bolt upright and put on a comically fierce expression.

  Jules forged ahead. “We’ve opened an office at Shadowglade to help breghlin. Lana wants a few trustworthy fellows, like you, to be in charge.”

  Their eyes widened in surprise.

  “Us?” Danny said.

  “In charge?” Ferdinand said.

  “We would be here to help you, of course.”

  “Whatcha need us to do?” Ferdinand asked.

  Elias and I plan to open Sheamathan’s storehouses, and you’ll help us hand out building supplies, tools, metals, grain, and seeds.”

  “She won’t like that,” Larry said with a worried frown.

  “No, I’m sure she won’t, but she has no say in the matter. You will be in charge.”

  All five puffed out their chests. “We will be in charge,” Larry repeated, looking dazed.

  “You’d have very important jobs. And another thing—we plan to teach breghlin various trades so more of you will have useful skills.”

  Danny asked, “If we learns a trade, can we keep some of what we make?”

  “Yes, of course. Or barter it for something else.”

  “Sounds good,” Wally said. When he nodded, his jowls and multiple chins wiggled like jellies.

  Ferdinand said slowly, “Our females been sayin’ males should fight less. Learn more. Do useful things. Become important.” He shrugged as if these were mysterious concepts cooked up by females.

  “We gonna be important,” Grace said, his fleshy lips stretching in a wide smile. He winked at his companions. “We will get females.”

  “Females,” they chorused and began panting, growling, and licking their lips.

  Jules watched with horrified fascination. What would the females think if they saw this disgusting display? “Ahem!” He cleared his throat to get their attention. The panting and growling didn’t stop so he spoke over it. “You will be our go-betweens. One or two of you will stay in the office to handle requests and answer questions, and the others will go out and spread the news about the Ministry.”

  The problem would be how to confer authority on these new officials. Sending an introductory letter wouldn’t do since Breghlin couldn’t read, but an official badge might work. His new officials would probably love that. “What do you say? Are you interested in being in charge?”

  They all nodded vigorously.

  “Great. Lana will be happy to hear it. You can decide who stays in the office and who goes out, and you can always take turns. For your first job, Elias would like you to tell your clans that there’s a reward for killing gerstlits, pythanium, urgruv, murpine—any of S’s monste
rs. We only need the head as proof.”

  Wally’s eyes lit up. “What’s the reward?”

  “Seed, grain, corrustone, or metal. Your choice.”

  “Good plan,” Wally agreed, his chins wobbling as he nodded.

  Danny asked, “Can we see our office?”

  “Certainly. I’ll take you there now, if you like.”

  Danny grinned broadly in reply.

  Jules was about to stand when a female breghlin brought in a covered dish on a tray. “Somethin’ for you, Gem Master,” she said, setting the tray on the table. “Gem Master Elias say you be havin’ lunch late today, so here’s a lil’ somethin’ now.”

  Jules read the name stitched onto her gray tunic. “Thank you, Brenda Ann.”

  She lifted the lid, revealing two pieces of firm, sweet fruit, a piece of cheese, and crackers with jam.”

  “Errrrgh,” said one of the breghlin. Jules looked up. They were eyeing his food with obvious disgust.

  “Sorry for the delay, fellows—I’ll only be a minute. As soon as I finish, we’ll go see your office and I’m sure you’ll like it. It has desks, chairs, and storage cabinets. It’s a first-rate operation.” When he looked up, none of the breghlin were paying any attention to him, and he suspected they hadn’t heard a word he’d said. Five pairs of eyes followed Brenda Ann as she walked away.

  “Females,” Danny said enthusiastically, and the panting and growling began again.

  Chapter 29

  Once Raenihel arrived, Jules and Elias brought the other clan leaders to the dining room for a sumptuous lunch, and there was plenty of fialazza. As soon as Elias saw that the clan leaders were relaxed and attentive, he shared the news that some gnomes were born with latent gem powers.

  Jules watched their initial looks of disbelief turn to amazement. Raenihel assured them that every word was true, then went on to tell them about the evening when he and a few others from his clan had tried Jules’s knife, and how only he and Tyla had made it glow. Naturally, they all wanted to see if they had gem powers, so Jules passed the knife around. To his surprise, the knife lit for all three.

  When the laughter and boisterous congratulations died down, Elias told them, “As far as we know, gem powers are hereditary, but not every family member inherits the gift, and now and then it skips a generation.”

  Raenihel set down his goblet. “Back in the old days, gnomes with gem powers may have been appointed clan leaders, so as their descendants, we’re more likely to have powers.”

  “That stands to reason,” Kerosten agreed, looking pleased at the idea. “We must test everyone, but there is probably no easy way to do it.”

  Elias smiled. “Perhaps there is.” He described the hidden room with the staffs and shields, and then Jules picked up the tale, describing how he and Lana had seen images of what appeared to be a coming-of-age rite in which gnomes with latent powers had touched the staff, which activated their powers.

  “This is wonderful news,” Morodin said, his face flushed with excitement, “and yet it pains me to think that an entire part of our heritage was lost for generations. How different our lives might have been if we had known we had gem powers.”

  Jules said, “Sheamathan—we call her S these days—made sure you lost those memories along with the rest of your history.”

  “Morodin, if you mean to imply we could have freed ourselves from S’s control long ago, you’re mistaken.” Vegmir said. “The scroll said weapons and gems were of no avail. Gem powers didn’t help our ancestors stop the Great Upheaval.”

  “She was willing to use dark powers. I doubt your people would have done that,” Elias said.

  “No, probably not,” Kerosten conceded, frowning. “I suppose that’s why we lost the war. Some gnomes might have been willing to use dark powers and suffer the consequences, but not many.” He was silent for a moment, his gaze distant. “As you know, evil changes us. Sheamathan—S, as you call her—worsened the breghlin’s deformities, and then turned them into hereditary mutations. We must bear in mind that their initial disfigurements were self-imposed.” The elderly gnome leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “There is something about this world, and our race, that brings about a physical penalty for wrongdoing. We are seldom ill, but wrongdoing affects our faces and bodies and brings great suffering.”

  “I never thought about it like that,” Jules said. “Your bodies suffer from evil and ours from disease. That’s a fascinating concept.”

  “Yes, fascinating,” said Elias, a pained expression on his face. “I’m living proof that this world has more to do with it than your race, and I’ve never found a way to reverse the damage. S, whose body is somewhat plant-like, got away unscathed. But she’s paying for her crimes now.”

  “But deformities can be reversed,” Morodin said. “You won’t find many gnomes with lumpy skin or deformed features, but such gnomes do exist, and if they turn from evil, their deformities, which we call ‘witnesses,’ reverse over time.”

  “Witnesses,” Jules repeated. He found it convenient, yet a little unsettling, that gnomes could judge one another’s character that way.

  Morodin, who had been addressing this explanation to Elias, dropped his eyes. “In our culture, if someone’s face or body is marred by ‘witnesses,’ we have little to do with him.”

  “And being shunned is so humiliating that most gnomes turn from evil,” Kerosten added.

  Jules looked at Elias who was shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

  “Er, yes,” Elias said. “I can see how that would be effective.”

  In Elias’s case, shunning hadn’t been the worst of it. The Amulet, finding him altered by dark powers, had trapped him in Shadow. Greed and selfish ambition had cost Elias his family, friends, and business. The conversation had gotten off course, and it would be best to steer it back to the wonders of the secret room.

  “After finding the staffs and shields in a room hidden from anyone with dark powers, we reexamined everything we thought we knew about Shadowglade.” Jules paused for dramatic effect, and then continued. “We came to the conclusion that long ago Shadowglade belonged to gnomes.”

  The clan leaders stared at him with open mouths, incredulous. Morodin, always the doubter, opened his mouth to speak, but Jules held up a hand, signaling him to wait. “If I understand what you read in the scroll, Morodin, S brought mercenaries to Shadow so she could overthrow you and become your ruler. When your ancestors saw they couldn’t win, maybe they created the secret room to hide the staffs and shields. Who else could have put them there?”

  “As astonishing as it seems, it does make sense,” Raenihel said. Morodin nodded weakly, at least considering the idea, if not fully convinced. Raenihel said slowly, “How ironic that this place, which has long been the symbol of gnome oppression, may have once belonged to us.”

  “Indeed,” Vegmir said, raising his brows. “I am having trouble imagining it.”

  “Assuming S seized Shadowglade during the war, or shortly after, how many years ago would that be?” Jules asked.

  Vegmir said, “It has been over two hundred years since the Great Upheaval.”

  That might not seem very long to S, Jules thought with a frown, but it was a great length of time for the gnomes who had a lifespan similar to humans. “I have another piece of remarkable news,” he continued. “S’s spell book claims it used to be owned by a gnome.”

  “What?” Kerosten breathed.

  Vegmir stroked his beard, considering. “After all you’ve told us, maybe we shouldn’t be surprised. If gnomes used gem powers in the old days, some must have owned spell books and gem collections. S would have seized all that during the era of the Great Upheaval.”

  Elias added, “The spell book took a dim view of its former owner, calling the gnome a weak old fool. It claims to have been weak and lifeless before S added her spells.”

  “Are you saying the book wasn’t sentient until Sheamathan acquired it?” Kerosten demanded.

  “I go
t that impression,” Elias replied, “but the book may simply have been making a comparison between then and now, and I’m sure its powers have evolved since it came into S’s possession.”

  Jules said, “We need to find out whether the book remembers its former owner or whether it’s gotten all its information about him from S.”

  Looking pensive, Vegmir said, “If the book was already sentient, it may have liked its gnome owner. Then Sheamathan acquired it, filled it with her evil ideas, and corrupted it.

  “Corrupted it is an appropriate term,” Elias said. “The cover had several malevolent gems, which makes no sense with a gnome owner. That leaves two possibilities. The spell book originally had benevolent gems, and S replaced them, or the book had no gems at all and was literally lifeless.”

  Jules found the idea of a sentient book hard enough to grasp, and figuring out how and when it had become sentient, was even more confusing.

  “Changing the gems in the cover was a clever idea,” Kerosten said.

  Elias smiled proudly. “Lana, my descendent, decided to replace the Dark gems with phorish, better known as happy stone. She also added a foresight gem known for clairvoyance and telepathy. After making those changes, a new personality emerged, and the book became more cooperative. Unfortunately, as you have observed, vestiges of the old personality remain.”

  Vegmir’s eyes narrowed. “A new personality. Could it be . . . the original personality?”

  Elias, who had been taking a sip of fialazza, set down his goblet with a thump. “That’s an interesting theory. Simply removing the malevolent gems would have made a difference, but Lana took matters a step further and replaced them with benevolent gems. Could she have freed the original personality?” He paused and nodded. “Possibly.”

  “But the malevolent personality is still there. The book actually argues with itself,” Jules pointed out. “Maybe it can’t shake free of its old thought patterns.”