Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2) (25 page)

BOOK: Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2)
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Hadeon glanced around the room as
Kale and Kali filled out the deeds. “Old family place?”

“No, we just needed a place to
call home, and this seemed as good as any.” Kale sensed the young man was just
making friendly conversation, but he didn’t want to reveal any of the secrets
he’d found.

“No one will bother you down
here. Are you going to open a shop?” He ran his finger along the dusty counter,
leaving a clean streak in the wood.

Kale rolled up the one of deed
and handed it to Hadeon. “I haven’t decided yet. We might. It depends on my
sister. She’s at the Arcane University.”

“Oh. I always wanted to be a
wizard. Never got the hang of it. Does she have wings, too? I’ve never seen a
winged drak before.” He unrolled the deed and examined it before nodding and
returning it to his bag.

“No, this was…” Kale wasn’t sure
how to describe his wings. He decided to lie. “A wizard did it. It was an
accident. I’ve found them too useful to get rid of, you know?”

“Wow, yeah. It’d be great to be
able to fly.” He closed up his pack and offered Kale his hand. “Everything
looks in order. You even look like you’ve been cleaning, so I’ll tell them
you’re keeping good on your promise.”

Kale shook the young man’s hand.
“You’re the inspector, too? Will you be coming back?”

“Maybe in a few weeks, if they
don’t forget. They usually forget.” He cursed as he hit his head on the
doorframe. “Good day to you. Hon’s blessing to your home and hearth!” Hadeon
rubbed the top of his head as he walked away.

Kale looked at Kali as his mate
took his arm. He held up the sack of money before putting it in his pouch.
“See? They didn’t keep the change.”

Kali chewed her lip and nodded.
“Well, I guess it’s really ours now, huh?”

“Our first home!”

 

 

Chapter 14

 

Processing Gisella’s revelation
took Pancras a moment. “You’re the granddaughter of the Lich Queen?”

“Yes, my sister and me.” Gisella
glanced behind her, presumably for Edric and Qaliah. They stood alongside the
horses, talking while periodically glancing toward Gisella and Pancras to
ensure the pair weren’t eavesdropping.

“Are you both Aurora’s faithful?”
Pancras was curious how, exactly, the goddess of beauty and love played into
events.

“No. Alysha is devoted to Selene.
She’s a proper sorceress.” Gisella removed her helmet and flipped matted hair
out of her eyes. “That’s why she’s deep in the Southern Watch. She’s far from
where the Lich Queen is thought to return.”

Pancras thought back to what he
learned of resurrection. If that was the method by which the Lich Queen
attempted her return, a bit of her body would be required to accomplish the
task: a bone, a bit of flesh, or a lock of hair. He was sure it could not be
accomplished with the body of a descendant either living or deceased. Unless
the issue had been born of incest, there would be too many other influences
from other bloodlines.

“Were your parents siblings?”

“What? No.” Gisella’s curled lips
and furrowed brow conveyed her irritation. “What has that to do with anything?”

“I’m trying to determine what her
plan is, exactly.”

Gisella put one hand on his chest
and grabbed his snout with her other, pulling his head down. Pancras jumped
back, but she maintained her grip. “Be still!”

He complied with her order, his
nose in her face until she released him and stepped away. Pancras rubbed his
snout and followed after her.

“I needed to be sure you were, in
fact, alive. I don’t know what is going on, and I don’t like it.”

“I understand.” The first time
Pancras returned from the dead, he feared he might have returned as one of the
many undead abominations he so fervently fought against. As far as he could
ascertain, he was alive. Gisella secured her helmet on Moonsilver’s saddle. “As
much as I would like to leave this place, we should at least give the soldiers
their due. We’ll make two pyres: one for the cultists and one for the soldiers
and other workers from the keep. They will have peace in death.”

“I’m not touching those rotters!”
Edric grabbed Yaffa’s reins and led his pony away from the group.

“Never figured him for
squeamish.” Qaliah looked Pancras over. “So what are you now, some kind of
zombie? A vampire? Are we going to have to put you down?”

Pancras held up his hands and
chuckled. “I understand your suspicion. I am quite alive. She checked.”

“It’s true. He’s breathing, he’s
warm, and his heart beats.” Gisella pulled a spare blanket out of her
saddlebags and threw it at Pancras. “Use this for gathering parts. We’ll start
with the soldiers.”

Pancras didn’t like working with
the rotting dead. Especially those who died violently. It was messy, and he
never became accustomed to the stench.

“I’d give my withered hand for
some skellies to do this clean-up for us.” He removed his belt, pulled off his
robes, and laid them over Stormheart’s saddle. He refastened his belt along
with his rod and pouches over his loin cloth.

The fiendling pressed the back of
her hand against her forehead. “Such a display. I may faint from this shameless
show of minotaur flesh.”

“Get your clothes bloody if you
want. I paid too much for those robes to have them covered in viscera for the
next several months.” Pancras took the blanket and returned to the courtyard.
It was a little chilly to be outside without clothing, even for a minotaur, but
he hoped the physical labor would keep him warm.

As he left the two women behind,
he heard Qaliah laugh. “You know, the dead guy has a point!”

 

* * *

 

Edric’s casual acceptance of
Pancras’s death and apparent resurrection piqued Gisella’s curiosity. In her
world, such an event was not only unheard of, but also would be considered
either a miracle or an abomination. She pondered in what sort of world the
dwarf lived where such an occurrence barely rated a wry quip. She was glad
Pancras enlisted Qaliah to gather the bodies of the dead soldiers.

She grabbed Yaffa’s reins. “If
you’re going to travel with us, you’re going to help. Step down and help me
gather wood for the pyres.”

Edric sighed and dismounted his
pony. “Maybe I don’t want to travel with you anymore. I’m getting tired of this
necromancer and his undead.”

Gisella raised an eyebrow but
kept her eyes fixed on Yaffa. “Why are you traveling with him, anyway? And what
did you mean when you said him returning from death was getting to be a habit?”
Might as well just put it out there.

“You heard him. He died back in
Almeria. I didn’t see it, but the draks were there. I saw his body when they
laid him out in their undercroft. Stone dead.” Edric picked up a branch and
then tossed it away when he saw how rotten it was. “At least dwarves have the
sense to petrify when we die. You know we’re not coming back from that.”

Dwarven death rites were foreign
to Gisella. She figured Edric must have exaggerated to some extent. “Again, why
are you traveling with him?”

“It’s a long story I don’t care
to tell again. I am for now, but I’m not obligated to keep on.” He kicked a
stick in the direction he stepped and dropped all the wood he’d gathered so far
on top of it. “There’s a wood pile behind the forge. I don’t think there’s
going to be enough wood for a decent pyre, though.”

Gisella spied a wood axe leaning
against the forge. “I’ll cut the stables apart. Keep gathering as much wood as
you can. Bring furniture from the barracks and keep if you have to.” She decided
to let Edric’s motivations lie. If he was in no way bound to the minotaur’s
service, she wouldn’t stop him from leaving.

It took several hours to
disassemble the stables with the wood axe. She had no choice but to allow the
structure to collapse on top of the horse carcasses within, as she had no means
of removing them. While Gisella labored, Pancras and Qaliah gathered all the
bodies, including the dismembered corpses lining the road leading to the keep,
and then they helped Edric break down the furniture and build pyres using it
and the wood Gisella provided.

The sun hung low in the sky by
the time they completed their tasks, and the first stars of night shone bright.
Gisella knelt before the pyre for the soldiers and lit a torch.

“Does anyone have anything to
say?”

Edric shook his head, and Qaliah
shrugged.

Pancras cleared his throat. “We
commend these unfortunate souls to Aita’s realm. May they find peace there.”

“Indeed.” Gisella lit the pyre.
Flames spread like spilled water, licking at the bottom logs before catching
the tinder and kindling piled in the middle. She stepped back as roaring flames
climbed up the pyre and reached into the sky. Black smoke rolled off the pyre
as though even the fire struggled to cleanse the bodies of the evil that had
possessed them.

She tossed the torch onto the
smaller pyre they made for the cultists. “Maris take you all.”

The fires burned long into the
night. The four of them made camp outside the walls of the keep, upwind from
the choking stench of burning flesh, somber and quiet as they pondered the
events of the day. Crickets serenaded them to sleep under the light of the King
and Queen.

 

* * *

 

“What do you mean: ‘they’re not
here’?” Delilah surveyed The Granite Anvil’s common room, as though her eyes
might catch the innkeeper in a lie. “Where did they go?”

“I’m not their keeper. They left.
Took everything with them.”

“What about my stuff? I had a
room here, too!” Delilah fought to keep her heart out of her throat. She never
let the pack with her grimoire and lexicon out of sight, but there were a few
other trinkets of sentimental value she’d brought from Drak-Anor.

“I checked. Cleaned out. Looks
like they nicked your stuff. Want another room?”

Delilah screeched and threw up
her hands. “You’re useless!” She turned to Katka and Conner. “My brother
ditched me! I can’t believe it.”

Conner pursed his lips. “Maybe he
changed inns. There’s places in the undercity run by draks. Probably cheaper,
too.”

The thought had occurred to
Delilah, but she didn’t have enough free time visit every inn in the undercity
and inquire if they’d seen her brother. That would take days, if not a week or
more.

“What does he look like? You said
he has stripes, right?” Katka tapped Delilah’s shoulder to gain the drak’s
attention.

Delilah nodded. “And wings.”

“I’ve lived here all my life, and
you’re the first striped drak I’ve seen. I’ve never seen one with wings. If he
went into the undercity, someone is bound to have seen him.”

The girl had a point. Delilah
squeezed the top of her snout and rubbed her eyes. She took a deep breath and
tried to clear her mind.
Of course Kale will be easy to find. Who else is
striped with wings? It’s his mate who would be lost in the crowd.
Delilah strapped
on her pack. It was filled to the point of bursting since she stuffed her robe
into it. Now that she had some free time to roam the city, she didn’t want to
wear her robes. Conner and Katka both wore the grey of novices, and Katka
stopped in front of every darkened window to admire the grey robe Delilah
purchased for her.

The two humans led Delilah into
the undercity. Merchants hawked their wares, and couriers rushed by, arms laded
with deliveries and messages. Draks in the street were immediately drawn to
Delilah.

“Another striped drak!”

“Red and black here to deliver
us!”

“I’m crimson and ebony!” Delilah
stomped her foot as she shouted at the ignorant, colorblind drak. “Where’s the
other drak you saw?”

“You can lead us!”

“We must show the humans and
minotaurs we’re not vermin!”

“Save us! Save us!”

“Hey! I don’t think you’re
vermin!” A lone minotaur loomed above the crowd. “Don’t I give you good prices
on my potatoes?”

Katka took Delilah’s hand.
“They’re going to mob us. We have to move.”

Another plan entered Delilah’s
mind. She climbed up on the railing and focused on not to looking down into the
chasm. She raised her arms, and azure wisps formed at the top of her staff.


Fos
.” Her staff burst
into light. “Hear me, draks of the undercity!”

“Delilah! What are you doing?”
Conner spun and looked at her, his eyes wide in alarm.

“We hear you!”

“Enlighten us!”

“Not again!” The minotaur hunched
his shoulders and pushed his cart away as fast he was able without bowling over
the draks rushing to crowd around Delilah.

“Behold!” Delilah swung her staff
in an arc above her head. “A Child of Destiny is amongst you. You shall all
have my blessing—”

“Yes, bless us!”

“We are your faithful servants!”

“Can you heal my scale itch?”

“Tell me where I can find the
striped drak with wings. Then you may all go with my blessing!” Delilah wagered
her words would sway them.

“You’re mad, Delilah!” Katka
pulled on Delilah’s sleeve.

“Down! Down!”

“He vanished at the
Shadowbridge!”

“Evil is there! A shop of curses
and woe!”

“Woe! Woe!”

Delilah fought to keep dismay
from eclipsing her toothy, forced smile. “Go! Go, all of you, with the blessing
of Rannos, Hon, and Adranus! May Aurora’s love fill your hearts as you go be
fruitful. Tinian’s ever-watchful eye watch over you… in the winter… the light
of Apellon warm you in the summer.” Delilah’s ad-libs were far from authentic,
but they sounded good to her ears.

Apparently, the draks in the
crowd agreed. They cheered for Delilah and parted, bowing and uttering
blessings and thanks as she waded through them. She nodded and waved, gesturing
for Conner and Katka to follow her.

At the bottom of the stairs
leading to the next level of the undercity, Delilah lowered her arm and let her
false smile drop. “I can’t believe that worked.”

Conner crossed his arms and
frowned. “You’re lucky they didn’t tear you apart.”

“Nah. They think because I was
born with stripes, I have a special destiny. They wouldn’t dare. I can only
imagine what they thought of Kale walking through here with stripes and wings.”
Delilah giggled. “He probably has an army of them waiting on him hand and
foot.”

Katka shook her head. “This is
unbelievable. Is it like this where you’re from, too?”

“No. They wouldn’t lift a claw to
help us if we were drowning.” Delilah noticed their confused looks. “Long
story. Do you know where this Shadowbridge is? Or this cursed store?”

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