As for Korima herself, she’d chosen to do something that startled Ruethwyn even more, and had concentrated for a minute, then slowly changed into a brown-haired young man. She still looked like an elf, but seeing a handsome young man instead of her usual friend was something of a shock.
Ruethwyn had hesitated, then had gone with something simple, aiming to turn herself into a fairly average brunette with a slightly upturned nose. No one too pretty or distinctive, with long, mostly limp hair. Along the trip, she’d found a length of wood that would look like an appropriately gnarled staff. Figuring that their group probably looked like a group of mercenaries or the like to begin with, pretending to be a minor mage would make sense.
The next town they’d visited had been larger than the first, though not significantly, and it’d also had a garrison atop a hill next to the river, giving it a commanding view of the surrounding countryside and river. The town had been busier, especially with a stone wall under construction atop the hill, and what Ruethwyn suspected was a keep as well, though it was hard to tell. She certainly wasn’t going to ask about it, though.
Their disguises had almost proven to be a problem, as one of the guards had spoken with them briefly, then had revealed that he was a lieutenant with the town guard, and they were recruiting. It had taken a bit of time for Alaran to convince the man that they weren’t interested and were instead heading for Dragonreach before trying their hand in the Northern Wastes.
The guard had been disappointed, but other than that, the visit had gone relatively smoothly, as had the trip north toward Dragonreach. Along the way, they’d passed multiple work crews, some clearing the area next to the road, and others digging along the same path. Ruethwyn had been puzzled until they’d come across a group who was carefully building a brick road in the new path, forming a flat, smooth surface wide enough for two wagons to travel side by side. The sight of it was staggering to Ruethwyn, because she couldn’t imagine the kind of expense and effort building a road like that might take. Even inside one of the compact towns they’d seen, a road like that would be insanely expensive, yet this wasn’t in a city.
They’d chosen to rest outside of a town the previous night, and it had taken the group only a few hours to reach Dragonreach as they followed the road, and as they did so, Ruethwyn stopped, blinking in shock as she looked at the town, then at the ridge above it. There was a good reason for the dragon’s lair to be called the Obsidian Palace, she realized, drawing a deep breath.
The ridge was a fairly sharp outcropping, and Ruethwyn could see where parts of it had been deliberately quarried away to remove easy approaches, and instead there were a series of switchback trails leading up the side of the ridge to the gates almost a hundred feet above. Even if you got to the top of the ridge, sheer black walls rose another thirty feet, with taller towers with pennants flapping in the wind piercing them.
Inside the walls was a sprawling compound built on a scale that reminded Ruethwyn of Imris’s palace, because it had to be built for a dragon in its natural shape. The towers were solid and large, but it was the main halls that were shocking, as Ruethwyn couldn’t quite grasp how huge they were from this distance, and all of them were formed of the same black stone. Two wings extended from either side of the huge central structure, and atop that building she could see a bell tower with several bells within.
Dragonreach wasn’t impressive by comparison, but when Ruethwyn examined it, she felt a little more shock. While the stone walls around the town were simple gray stone, they probably were about twenty feet tall and looked thick. The city within was mostly made of stone and masonry, many of the roofs tiled in brown tiles that looked a lot like the bricks of the road, and the roads were like the road being built to the south. It wasn’t an enormous city, but even so, it looked orderly and profitable, with crowds visible on the streets even from their vantage several miles away. A lot of farmland surrounded the city as well, which was probably necessary, and Ruethwyn saw a fair amount of cattle and sheep in the region.
“I… I didn’t realize just what this was going to be like. Gods, how did they build something like that?” Sella asked, her voice slightly strained.
“There’s a small dwarven clan in the mountains to our north that capitulated to Resvarygrath years ago,” Alaran explained, gesturing toward the peaks beyond the palace. “Between them and the human architects he hired, they’ve been busy building up Dragonreach for most of a century. I should point out it isn’t that impressive. Dwarven kingdoms create cities which have even more stonework, and clan Kortak is known for creating sprawling, beautiful cities of stone and brick as well.”
“Perhaps that’s true, but I’ve never seen one of those cities. I’ve only seen this one,” Ruethwyn replied, giving him a reproving look.
“A fair point,” Alaran admitted, pausing for a long moment, then sighing. “I do sometimes think a city like that would be a lot easier to defend, but it wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable as the ones back home.”
“Both are good points,” Tadrick said, adjusting his pack.
“Can we keep going? While this is interesting, my feet are killing me,” Korima said, her voice sounding eerily different as a male. Ruethwyn was looking forward to her friend going back to normal.
“Sure,” Alaran agreed, heading down the hill, and continued. “We’re going to be staying at a place called the Brass Oak. I know the owner, and it’s a nice place, if prone to getting overly loud in the evenings. Fortunately, we should be avoiding the worst of that when we get there.”
“Alright,” Ruethwyn agreed, following the road down toward the city. She was still a little disturbed by the sight of the palace looming above, but at the same time, she couldn’t help a slight smile. Under her breath she murmured. “I’m coming, everyone. I promise, Anara… I’m going to get you and everyone else out of there.”
She refused to think about the possibility of failure. That wasn’t acceptable.
Chapter 36
“You’re sure you heard something about Ruethwyn making her attempt soon?” Anara asked softly, glancing toward the doorway and straining her ears. She couldn’t hear Essryl anywhere nearby, the but dark elf moved more quietly than a stalking cat when she wanted to, which made guessing if she was in the area difficult.
“Of course I didn’t! I told you she’s been acting odd, and that she was humming last night, that’s it,” Lissa replied quickly. “I’m just saying, since the only time I’ve ever seen her act like that is when she’s pleased, or amused by what Rue’s been up to, I think it’s likely.”
“You have a point. She wasn’t happy after Minerva destroyed her statues,” Anara said, shivering. She saw Lissa shudder as well, which put both of them in agreement.
The loss of the statues would have been a tragedy all on its own due to the breathtaking detail that Essryl had given them, but the following day had been… unpleasant in the extreme. All the girls had been put through their paces, and their efforts had been stoked to new heights by the cold, seething fury which Essryl had exuded. The Illisyr had been unfailingly polite through everything, yet at the same time, Anara had constantly had a cold sweat running down her spine, and every time Essryl had looked at her she’d been terrifying.
Worse had been the daily sparring practice. Anara was certain that Essryl hadn’t meant to hurt her, since she’d been healed afterward, but she’d become uncomfortably used to the taste of sand, and Anara wondered just how many bones had cracked or been dislocated during the practice. Even after the healing, she’d found herself limping for most of the day.
“Anyway, anything that could turn her mood around in that time has to be fairly important to her, so I think it’s coming,” Lissa said, a finger twisting a lock of hair around it nervously.
“You’re probably right. We’d better get ready to run, if she does. The question is, are you able to do anything about these?” Anara asked, tapping the collar she was wearing nervously. “If we can’t, and Ruethwyn can’t, it�
�s going to make everything pointless.”
The golden collars were pretty, and most of the girls had grown used to them at this point, but when Lissa had examined them, she’d found the enchantments they bore, and Anara hated remembering what they did. The collars were each enchanted to help locate the wearers on the palace grounds, but that was a minor part of their powers. They were also far tougher than they should be, and if the wearer left the palace, that was when they activated and began to strangle them. The farther the wearer went from the palace, the tighter they’d get, and Lissa had been green for a while after the discussion. Fortunately, she’d also been working with Anara to try to decipher how to remove the collar for most of the winter.
“I think so. I’ve gone over the spell a couple dozen times, and I can’t find any flaws to it, but there’s no way to know until we try using it,” Lissa replied, taking a deep breath. “It should work. The problem is that the second we test it, they’re going to know that a collar was removed. I wish I could ask Mistress Essryl to check my work, but we both know that’s impossible.”
“Very true. Well, when we think it’s time, we’ll give it a try. I hope you have the mana for all of us,” Anara said, swallowing hard as she ran a finger over the warm metal of the collar.
“I’m pretty sure I do, with some to spare. I’m not going to have much beyond that, though,” Lissa said, smiling nervously as she added. “I just hope that Ruethwyn gets here soon. Those ladies are making me nervous. If Essryl wasn’t here, I’m not sure what would happen to us.”
Remembering the cold look she’d seen in the eyes of Sinera the day they’d met, which was so different than the cool indifference she remembered from Mellesyn, Anara shivered and nodded, speaking softly. “I entirely agree with you.”
“There we are.” Baron Oak, the oddly named proprietor of the Brass Oak, locked the door and nodded in satisfaction. They were settling down to dinner with the handsome man, whose hair was an odd reddish-brown, and who was more muscular than any elf Ruethwyn had seen before.
The Brass Oak was different than Ruethwyn had expected, a tall inn with a large central room dominated by a central support pillar that had been artfully shaped to look like a tree, then covered in a layer of brass. The tables were sturdy but nice, definitely heavier than most of the ones she’d seen in Selwyn, and the inn had enough rooms to fit more than double the number of travelers that any others Ruethwyn had visited could, likely up to forty people or more.
“We’re safe to talk, then?” Alaran asked, raising his eyebrows.
“As safe as we can be. I have unobtrusive wards against eavesdropping and spying on this room, and I regularly host groups of mercenaries in here. I’m something of a job broker for them, and most people in town know it,” Baron replied confidently, then turned to grin at Alaran. “What’s going on with you, though? I almost didn’t recognize you until you said something, Al!”
“We were noticed by the Shadowguard in a town near the border, so we decided to take precautions and change our appearances. It’s a little obnoxious, but better than getting picked up by one of their patrols,” Alaran said, nodding to the others as he continued. “I’d introduce you to them, but it’s probably best that you don’t know.”
“Definitely,” Baron said firmly, and gestured to the chairs. “Take a seat, we may as well eat while talking. So, I heard you retired, Al? I was told to give you information if you asked, but they didn’t say what any of this is about.”
“To be accurate, I renounced my knighthood and left the army,” Alaran corrected. “I didn’t want to implicate the kingdom when we gave the dragon’s palace another try.”
As they talked, Ruethwyn and the others each eased into their chairs. The food wasn’t anything too complex: a mutton stew, a salad of spring greens, and fresh bread. There was a little more meat to the stew than she was used to, but she wasn’t going to object to that. More startling was how much food there was. Ruethwyn doubted she’d finish more than half of it.
“You’re what?” Baron demanded, his eyes going wide with surprise. “Are you insane? Last time you had over twenty people and you were the only survivor after getting thrown over the parapets. Why would you try again?”
“Because his captives deserve to have lives of their own,” Alaran replied calmly, settling back into his chair and smiling. “Besides, I learned a lot, last time. Like not to draw the attention of the dark elf, and about how powerful the wards are.”
“You’re mad. Stark, raving mad,” Baron said, staring at them in disbelief, then shook his head. “You’re all too young to be doing this, too. Gods above… well, there’s nothing I can do about it. If you’re sure, at least I have more information I can share than last time around.”
“We have our reasons,” Ruethwyn said, her voice calm, but looked at him curiously, tearing off a piece of bread and dipping it into the stew. “You said you have more information, which seems odd. Why would that be?”
“It isn’t much of a secret, to be frank. We’ve always been able to get some word of what goes on in the palace since there are plenty of guards and a fair number of laborers that go inside, but the internal sections have been more of a mystery. About a month ago, that changed,” Baron said, shrugging as he speared a piece of potato with a fork. Ruethwyn ate her own piece, and her eyebrows rose slightly at the flavor. It was better than she expected. “It seems that Resvarygrath took interest in a couple of elven women, and one of them is particularly fond of dresses, and thought one wing of the palace needed renovations. That’s led to a lot more workers going in and out of the palace, and word has spread about a few more details.”
“A couple of women?” Alaran asked, looking skeptical. “That seems odd, at least for him.”
“It is, but who knows with dragons? They’re very different,” Baron replied, smiling. “Only one of the two has been seen much, a rather beautiful redhead, from what I’ve heard. Anyway, we’ve gotten a better idea of the layout of the eastern wing of the palace, and I recently learned there’s a secret escape passage. You heard about that one, Al?”
“I’d heard something along those lines but wasn’t going to put much faith in it until I’d heard from you,” Alaran replied with a nod.
“Ooh, an escape passage? That sounds like it’d be interesting!” Korima said, still in the shape of a boy. Ruethwyn felt like she was getting a headache, hearing Korima’s familiar speech patterns from someone that didn’t sound like her. The kitsune continued after a moment. “Do you think that’s the best way in?”
“Most likely. The walls have been guarded a bit better since Al went over them last time, and I think the passage is about as difficult to get through as the wards on the building,” Baron confirmed, looking at Korima oddly, almost as though he was puzzled. “It’s also outside the city, somewhat to the north, so there are certain advantages to using it there. At the least, if you manage to raise the alarm like the last time, you’ll have more time to get the hell out of there.”
“Useful to know,” Tadrick said dryly, prompting a couple of morbid chuckles from around the table.
Sella wasn’t saying anything, Ruethwyn noticed, just eating quietly, and Ruethwyn looked at her and quirked a brow. Smiling, Sella shook her head and continued to eat, gesturing for them to continue. Maybe she just didn’t have much to say, since Alaran was handling most of the questions. Almost as if to prove the point, the knight asked another question.
“So, if you have more information, how many Shadowguard are in the palace?” Alaran asked. “For that matter, do you know what the best times to infiltrate would be to avoid having as many up and about?”
“Right, there are four squads of recruits and two of regulars, for a total of seventy-two line troops, along with a half-squad of magi to support them, plus their commanders. Call it about eighty-five of them overall, and they’re forbidden from entering the western wing since that’s where the captives are,” Baron said briskly. “Captain Martin Gardner commands them all
, and I don’t know why he isn’t a general or such, but he takes that role. He goes to bed early and wakes early by all reports, so your best timing is probably a couple of hours after midnight. No one knows when the dark elf witch goes to bed, since people mostly don’t see her around. Hopefully she doesn’t keep the opposite schedule, but who knows? I certainly don’t.”
“Hm. That’s a big compound for only eighty guards. I would’ve sworn we went through half that number last time around,” Alaran murmured, frowning thoughtfully.
“You did. You also caught the new batch of recruits, and spring is always the quietest time for them,” Baron explained, nodding toward the wall. “The fields don’t till themselves, so the Shadowguard does its major recruiting in the fall. They sometimes have two to three times as many training up there.”
“Ah,” Ruethwyn said, a tiny bit of tension easing at the explanation. “That helps a little. It won’t if we run into someone powerful, but…”
“Very true. There are also about thirty servants in the palace, along with the captives. Fortunately, the palace is ridiculously overbuilt, so it won’t be crowded, but there are a lot of chances for you to run into someone,” Baron warned. “I’m not helping if you get into trouble, either. My job is to gather information, and that’s it. You screw up, you’re on your own.”
The Obsidian Palace (Through the Fire Book 3) Page 32