The Lost Library of Cormanthyr

by Mel Odom

  Leathery wings beat the air above him.

  Xuxa, he called.

  I am here, Baylee.

  Stay with the girl. Protect her if she needs it. Baylee saw her again, still fleeing through the forest, instinctively reading the terrain herself and making for a defensible position. Her rapid departure from the area bothered him somewhat Together, they could have made a stronger stance against the orcs. And Jaeleen had weapons.

  We owe her nothing.

  No, but I mean to see her protected. Still in full flight, Baylee sprang for a thick limb overhead. Skillfully, he transferred his forward momentum into climbing as he scampered up the tree as easily as most men might scale a ladder. The leather work gloves protected his hands from the rough bark. He carried the sling in his mouth as he took care not to disturb the branches with his climb.

  My place is with you.

  Xuxa, please don’t argue now.

  The azmyth bat made a sound of displeasure.

  Glancing upward through the tree, the sky limned by the quarter moon and looking a dark sapphire color now that the sun had dropped below the rim, Baylee saw the angular bat’s body suddenly flip in mid-flap and alter course. Thank you.

  Be safe, Baylee. Until we are together again. The bat streaked after the woman.

  Baylee felt Xuxa’s presence fade from his mind as the limits of the bat’s telepathic abilities were exceeded. Being separated from Xuxa seemed unnatural after all these years. Even when he dropped off to sleep, Xuxa’s mind-voice was generally the last thing he heard of an evening.

  Jaeleen reached the high ground near the dig site, choosing an area that was ringed by high rock and dense brush. Her chances of holding the position looked good. But the probability remained that the orcs would choose to starve her out.

  Baylee didn’t intend for that to happen. He smiled grimly as he scouted the terrain and spotted the advancing line of orcs. Apparently none of them saw him take to the trees. They concentrated their efforts on closing on Jaeleen, calling to each other in their rough tongue. Baylee could only make out snatches of conversation. Even his prodigious knowledge of languages, both spoken and written, was taxed to figure out the orcish communications. Despite having common roots, few of the orcs held a common tongue.

  The ranger moved through the trees with hardly a rustle. Exploring the elven environs of Cormanthor, in particular those in the Tangled Trees after Fannt Golsway had been invited by one of the elven families to pursue a lost cache of heirlooms thought destroyed when Myth Drannor fell, had schooled him in the ways of woodcraft. His mentor had only been partially successful in recovering the lost items, but in the months that Baylee had lived among the elves, he’d learned how to pass through the trees as if born there.

  He swung from the branches, and landed with sure-footed balance on chosen limbs, closing in on his target. The orcs had the advantage of being able to see in the night, but Baylee’s own abilities had been sharpened by long living in the wild. He hunted as easily by night as by day, moved as quietly. Catacombs often held no light either, save for torches carried along for that purpose. And those had to be used sparingly. He hadn’t always made it back out with benefit of light. So he’d learned to trust his other senses and his intuition.

  He hurled himself through the air again, landing on a thick-boled limb thirty feet above the ground. A pair of orcs ran through the brush, their path taking them beneath the tree he’d chosen.

  The ranger released a tense breath and focused all his attention on the orcs. Both of them neared the base of the tree. Baylee let himself down through the limbs hurriedly, avoiding dead branches that could break off and fall below to warn the orcs. He dropped the final six feet, having no choice if he wanted to arrive in time.

  He hooked his legs around one of the lower branches, then fell so he hung upside down. Both orcs heard him and tried to figure out where the sound came from.

  “Cat!” one of them yelled out in warning.

  The forest held a number of feline predators, including leopards. Baylee had witnessed them in his travels since leaving Ranger’s Way. He reached down and grabbed the second ore’s head. Hanging by his legs, making any use of his upper body strength was difficult. Still, he managed to cup the ore’s skull tightly and twist.

  The ore’s spine splintered.

  Baylee released the corpse and it collapsed to the ground. Evidently enough noise had been made to warn the ore’s companion. The creature turned around in surprise and nocked an arrow to the short bow it held.

  Hanging upside down from the tree branch, Baylee stared death in the eye. The shifting of the ore’s shoulder told him when the arrow was about to be released. The ranger threw himself to the side. The arrow fletchings slipped along the side of his face, letting him know just how close it had been.

  On his way to the ground, he flipped in midair and landed on his feet. The orc screamed out a warning to the others of its party. The sound of running feet started immediately toward Baylee.

  Seeing the human still alive sent the orc into a panic. The creature drew back to the shelter of a nearby tree as it tried to nock a new arrow.

  Baylee sprang forward, reaching for the orc. He seized the creature’s head and slammed it into the tree hard enough to smash its skull. The orc let out a long breath, shivered, and died in the tangle of roots thrusting up from the ground.

  The ranger gathered the short bow and the quiver of arrows. A quick count showed him fourteen arrows in the quiver. He took five of them out, fitting one to the string and taking four more up in his left fist, holding them with the bow, managing the handful with ease.

  Though Golsway had been reluctant to allow Baylee to carry weapons, he had seen his apprentice trained in their usage.

  Happily better armed, Baylee faded into the darkness of the forest It was time for the hunted to become the hunter.

  “Detestable creature,” Jaeleen said aloud. Her words dripped spite and venom.

  Roosting upside down high overhead in the tree the woman hid under, Xuxa regally chose to ignore the woman and sent her senses ranging far out, seeking Baylee. She touched the minds of two of the orcs and retreated instantly by choice.

  Orcs had such narrow, closed minds filled with horrific dreams fueled by the smell of blood. Xuxa shuddered, re-closing her leathery wings about herself. She still could not sense Baylee, and she was beginning to feel somewhat anxious.

  “I know you can hear me,” Jaeleen called out from below, “and I know you’re up there.”

  Then do us both a favor, Xuxa flashed at the human woman, and shut up. She intentionally made her telepathic voice loud enough to hurt.

  Jaeleen loosed an oath, summoning up a colorful, but wholly inaccurate family history for azmyth bats in general, and Xuxa in particular.

  Xuxa ignored the outburst. Seated in the upper branches of the tree, she had a good field of view. Her night sight stripped away the dark shadows twisting across the land. One of the orcs had closed the distance between itself and Jaeleen to sixteen paces. Feeling disgusted, Xuxa also noted that the human female still did not register the orc.

  Baylee would never make such a mistake, the azmyth bat knew. She had trained the human ranger to be alert to everything going on around him, and she took pride in Baylee’s skills, which were well beyond those of most humans.

  The orc continued creeping up on Jaeleen.

  Xuxa briefly considered sending a warning to the human female and letting her fend for herself, but decided not to. In the ensuing fight, Jaeleen might manage to get injured, and Xuxa didn’t intend to listen to Baylee berate her for it. And there was a certain amount of territorial pride involved since Baylee had made the woman her charge.

  Unfurling her wings, Xuxa let herself fall from the branch. She dropped like a stone, emitting her high-pitched squeak too high for either humans or orcs to hear. The sound bounced back up at her from the forest sward, instantly letting her know how near she was to her quarry.

  She b
roke her fall at the last possible moment. Her leather wings stretched out and caught the wind, straining her muscles and the tendons of the joints. She rode the breeze, arrowing at her target.

  In the last moment of its life, the orc noticed the azmyth bat coming at it silently. The orc shifted defensively against the movement, raising its club.

  Xuxa knew the orc probably hadn’t even identified what she was at the time she struck. Not wanting to take a chance on the opportunity presented her, Xuxa screamed again. The sound waves bounced back at her, bringing the orc into clearest focus for her bat senses.

  She twisted in the air violently, bringing her twin tails stabbing into flesh while her fangs sank deeply into the ore’s throat. In a flicker, she unleashed the lightning charge bottled up inside her.

  Overcome by the onslaught, the orc tumbled to the ground, smoke rising from its twitching body, unable to even manage its own death throes.

  Xuxa frantically beat against the wind to gain altitude quickly. She swooped around, circling the tree where she had left Jaeleen. Her keen eyes picked the woman out of the darkness.

  Jaeleen leveled the hand crossbow. Her hard eyes projected anticipation.

  Miss, Xuxa promised in a whispering voice in the woman’s mind, and I won’t.

  Jaeleen snarled an oath and lifted the weapon clear. “Have I ever told you how much I hate flying rodents?”

  Xuxa flew to the top of the tree and took up her search for Baylee again. She remained aware of Jaeleen below. The woman scurried for Baylee’s shovel and dropped into the hole the ranger had dug. The shovel’s blade bit cleanly into the dark earth.

  Xuxa shifted along the branch. She could neither sense nor see Baylee, though she was aware of the orcs as they pursued something through the forest.

  Then her attention was divided as the shovel Jaeleen wielded so vigorously broke through into hollow space. The azmyth bat peered down.

  Jaeleen dropped to her hands and knees, tossing the shovel to one side. She dug frantically into the earth, enlarging the hole she’d made.

  Xuxa felt anxious. Baylee had been so close to the prize he had sought. Now it appeared he was to lose not only that prize, but perhaps his life as well because of the treacherous woman below.

  And even as she thought it, Xuxa knew that Baylee would probably never see it that way. She threw herself into the air.

  3

  Baylee ran along a thick-boled branch twenty feet above the forest floor. Moonlight splintered through the leaves and limbs in brief flashes.

  “There!” an orc yelled in one of the few words the ranger recognized. Harsh clucking followed as other orcs took up renewed pursuit.

  A spear slashed through the trees, burying itself in a tree trunk in front of Baylee. He slapped it away with his free arm and kept moving.

  Measuring his stride, Baylee hit the last bit of safe footing he guessed that he had on the rapidly thinning branch. He flexed his knees, riding out the spring of the limb as it bent, then threw himself forward. Graceful as he’d become over the years since his teaching in the Tangled Trees, he knew he only grasped a fraction of the woodland elves’ skills in their chosen terrain.

  The branch had little spring to give, so he didn’t gain height, but it did allow him to leap toward the branch on the next tree he’d selected. His boots hit the rough bark and skidded. For a moment he thought he might slip and fall, then his feet found the friction point. He stood, swayed on bent legs, then turned to face his foes.

  Four orcs twenty paces away searched the trees for him. Their rheumy eyes glistened sickly in the dark.

  Changing his stance to properly bring his target into view, Baylee drew the arrow he had ready on the string, braced into place by his finger. The shaft felt surprisingly true and straight for an orcish weapon. The grain of the wood slid along his skin, speaking volumes of skill of the arrow’s making. The fletchings brushed feather light against his cheek and remained stiff and aligned. He guessed that the bow and arrows were stolen, and not long ago at that.

  Both eyes on his target, Baylee released half a breath, held it, then released his shaft. The arrow leaped from the bow as fast, straight, and deadly as a falcon cutting air after a dove. Before his first arrow took the rearmost orc in the throat, the ranger had another arrow on the bowstring. He released again at his second target.

  The first orc seized the arrow that suddenly feathered its throat and made choking noises. The creature took a few halting steps, pulling weakly at the shaft. The second arrow slid into the face of another orc, burying itself to the fletching in an eye socket as the arrowhead crashed through the back of its skull.

  The remaining orcs howled in fright as they saw the one in front of them fall dead, its head snapping cruelly as the spent force of the arrow turned it. Both of the unwounded creatures turned to be confronted by the one drowning in its own blood behind them.

  The hesitation gave Baylee time to get off two more shafts. The first sped true, snapping into place beneath the helm of one orc and cleaving the creature’s backbone. The second shaft buried itself in the side of the last orc but did not slow the creature’s frightened run back into the forest.

  Keeping an arrow nocked, Baylee took four more arrows from the quiver and fisted them with the bow. He moved instantly into the shadows in case he had been spotted.

  He stayed with the trees, moving silent and quick. His mind searched for Xuxa, thinking he might be within range of the azmyth bat’s telepathic range. Xuxa.

  I am here, Baylee. Her mental voice sounded distant and anxious.

  Baylee took a final look around. Only two orcs appeared to have survived the encounter and were hastily making tracks out of the forest, pausing only long enough to gather the horses tied beneath a copse of trees a hundred paces distant. What’s wrong?

  Jaeleen has found the sacrificial well of the trollkin you sought.

  A smile tweaked Baylee’s lips in spite of the fact that Jaeleen was so close to the prize he’d come seeking. Surely you didn’t think she just happened along out here.

  No.

  Baylee turned his steps toward her, following the lay of the land. Never once had he not known where he was during the course of the battle. I killed six of the orcs.

  I have killed one.

  Baylee dropped to the forest floor. Another few paces and he crested a hill that overlooked the dig. He peered through the shadows and spotted Xuxa only through practiced effort near the top of the tree. Jaeleen was nowhere to be seen. However, the meaty smack of the shovel blade biting into the earth echoed to Baylee’s ears.

  Keep watch, Xuxa, he said as he moved for the dig.

  Baylee crept up on the hole and looked down into it. Jaeleen was on her hands and knees, digging with grim determination. Seeing the hole widening before the woman fired Baylee’s blood. A wide grin filled his face. He had known the well couldn’t be much farther down.

  Jaeleen looked back over her shoulder as she took a broad-bladed knife from her trail kit. “Are the orcs gone?”

  “Yes,” Baylee replied. “The ones that aren’t dead.”

  “Tymora willing, there are more dead than alive.”

  He gave her a tight nod, slightly put off by her apparent bloodthirstiness. Though they were orcs and would have spilled his life’s blood, the ranger felt that all life was precious. He culled stories from the ages, walked the paths of men and women, humans, dwarves, and elves, learned how they’d lived and how they died. In that pursuit, he had learned to revere much about many people.

  “You always were good in a fight,” Jaeleen acknowledged. She snapped a glance at him, her face showing thinly disguised impatience. “Those orcs will be back soon, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “Then help me! By Tymora’s grace, we will be long gone from here by the time the survivors are able to find us, and interest another group of orcs in attacking us.”

  If she didn’t need your help, Xuxa announced, she’d have been praying that you’d
be as dead as those orcs out in the forest.

  You’re wrong. She’s not like that. Baylee stepped into the pit he’d been working on. There was barely room for them both. Their bodies brushed together, and he was too well aware of her scent, thinly disguised beneath the lingering trace of Arabellan herb soap. Not all the time.

  Dragons, Xuxa assured him, are less greedy by nature. You live in the wild, friend Baylee, and you should know these things. My nature and yours … there are things we would never do. She is too civilized to trust.

  Keep watch. The azmyth bat’s silence rebuked Baylee. He picked up the shovel. “Move aside. We’ll be here all night while you pick at those stones with that toy.”

  Reluctantly, Jaeleen slid aside. “Dare we risk a light?”

  “The orcs already know we’re here. A light can do no real harm.” Baylee rammed the shovel home. “How did you find out about the well?”

  Jaeleen rummaged in her trail kit and brought out a compact oil lamp hardly bigger than her palm. It had six sides and seemed to be constructed more of glass than of worked metal. The glass sides held tiny etched figures of silhouette dancers. She spoke a quiet word Baylee could not catch. Obediently, the lamp’s wick ignited. A warm glow grew from the lamp, bathing the dig site.

  “You still have Yarik’s lamp, I see.” Baylee slammed the shovel against the stonework of the well. A chunk of mortar and rock broke free. He saw it fall and heard it echo as it scraped the sides on the way down.

  Jaeleen pushed the lamp toward the opening. The darkness within retreated slightly, becoming an ellipse trapped in the mouth of the well that went down ten feet. “I didn’t hear it hit.”

  “No,” Baylee said with conviction, “it’s supposed to be bottomless.”