They trekked down the drainage and by midday they came to where the floodwaters had carved a channel through the beach to meet the probing sea. They saw twoscore of knights and mariners working at the edge of the new inlet. Their helms piled behind them like a headhunter's spoils. Their boxy steel cuirasses standing together like captured chessmen. They stacked crates and barrels in one of the dozen boats belonging to the distant ship adrift amid the sea haze or perhaps the nearer ship slowly spinning on its bow anchor or perhaps the nearest ship aground with its keel splayed out beneath it and three masts stiffly reaching parallel to the beach like the legs of a dead hind.

Mym called out to the gathered humans. "Oy! Ye slippin off on us then?"

A [knight] looked over at them. "Lend us a hand here."

When two mariners bent to lift a crate she saw the [armiger] behind them, hips thrust forward and shoulders arched back to counterweight a keg clutched against his naked chest, the strata of his forearms pressing one against the other as if moving across a fault, now compressing, now subducting, now squeezing moisture from their fibers. She stood on her toes as he turned to pass the keg along but he didn't notice her.

"Or don't," said the [knight].

"Oy Mym," said Khaz.

"Aye?"

"Yer eyes still fit in that head of yers?"

She looked at the [knight]. "Will ye ask yer armiger if he'll take us with him? We need te get back across the sea."

"Come on and ask him yourself."

Khaz leaned close to her. "Ye know Daraway doesn't trust him."

"And ye don't trust her."

"Me mind might be changin."

She stared at him.

"Aye act surprised, but it's yer own damn fault."

"If I'd only known te drop the two of ye into a war I might've started one twenty years ago."

The [knight] announced them, but the [armiger] didn't stop lifting and passing and lifting and passing. "We are pleased to see our honored guests," he said.

"Surprised yer leavin already,” said Mym.

"We did what we came to do. Much like the two of you."

"Aye that we did. Can we trouble ye for passage home?"

"It is no trouble. Do you mind calling at another port along the way?"

"Yer not goin te seaway's end?"

"Not immediately. King's business takes us elsewhere. He is not a patient man. His priests will tell you he is no man at all, but dwarves do not believe such things."

"How long's yer business goin te take?"

"One hopes it will not take long. But if one needs to hurry then they might consider helping load and stow. Where there's work to be done one must do it. We can speak further once we are all aboard and underway."

For the dwarves, aboard and underway meant riding in the belly of a whaler, forward where the casks of the leviathans' oil were normally stowed. The wooden planks were sodden and slick from it. In an hour it covered their hands and faces and made dark streaks in their clothes wherever they sought to wipe it off their hands, and it was greasy in their hair, and no matter where they went the rancid smell of it followed them.

That first night aboard it was black as pitch and there was nothing to see beside the colors her eyes made against the backs of her lids. She shifted in the hammock they'd found stuffed under the futtocks. It was long enough for them to lay head to head in. The ship swung around it and its stillness made the endless rocking bearable. As she fell asleep he said, "Ye awake?"

"Am now."

"Sorry."

"What is it?"

She felt the hammock wobble as he shifted around. "What do ye think this king's business is?" he said.

"Don't know."

"Could be anythin."

"Could be."

The sea sloshed and gurgled against the hull. She started drifting along its rhythms, but he called her back.

"Could be the orcstone," he said.

"There isn't no orcstone."

"I know that, but they don't."

"Go te sleep."

"Aye I'm tryin."

She waited for his breathing to change but it never did. Someone above hailed another vessel. She couldn't hear the reply.

"What if there is?" he said.

"Go te sleep."

"Think it'd save the delvin?"

"Probably."

"Me too."

"That's how I know there's nothin te it."

"How's that?"

"If we had the stone of the earth te begin with or the dwarfstone cut from its whole or any of the others then we'd not be strugglin now."

His voice was insistent. "Maybe not, but the armiger and his king think there's somethin te it. That's why they're after it."

"Ye don't know that's what they're after."

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

"Those orcs ye mentioned, that goblin and otaur, ye said they told em about it."

"Go te sleep."

"Ye said Barzun himself was after it."

"We don't know it was Barzun in that cave."

"Who else could it've been? Hell, maybe it wasn't the orcstone at all he was after and it was the dwarfstone all along."

She rolled onto her side. "I'm done listenin."

"I'm just tryin te figure where it might be. And how that dam figures into it. The one yer da's stock breached. The one Barzun built."

He waited for her to say something but she wasn't going to.

"Mym?"

"Shut up."

"In a minute. How's the dam figure in?"

"Hell. Maybe a dam's a dam. Desert like that's got folks savin every drop of water they find."

"Maybe. But did ye see the well cap at the bottom of the lake?"

"I didn't see much other than the way out. Bout te start lookin for another."

"Someone sunk a concrete well with a hinged cap. Never quite seen anything like it. And the terracin too. Looked like folks were livin there before it all went underwater."

"Bet they were glad for its raisin. Two days out of there I was lookin for ways to tap a cactus."

"Lookin te dip a straw in the sky."

"Lookin te juice a stonefruit. Now go te sleep."

"Ye'll think on it?"

"Aye I promise te dream of nothin else just as soon as ye let me."

She might've slept some before the next "Mym," but she couldn't be sure.

"What?"

"I think they were pullin crude out of the stone."

"What?"

"Back at the well. I think Barzun blocked up the river to buoy crude out of the well."

"Why the hell for?"

"Ye can smell it."

"What?"

"Oil." She heard him sniff. "It's all up in me beard. I heard those whalers talkin bout it back at seaway's end. They've just about killed the last of em I remember them sayin. Reminded me of the wolves and elk we used te have round the mountain. Before everythin started freezin up."

"Everythin but yer flappin jaw."

"Humans don't have the delvin's forge te light and warm em. Didn't ye see the film all over everythin back in the slot canyon? Stickin te every stone west of the dam site and the soles of our boots and all blowin about?"

"Didn't see nothin but the way out. Stones find me another."

"I think it was some sort of crude."

"Ye didn't ask the stones?"

"I didn't stop te ask. I was runnin after ye like my feet were on fire and carryin that wee lass besides."

"Sorry about that."

"Don't be. Ye had every reason te be gettin away after what I'd said and how I'd acted."

"Thanks for sayin so."

She felt him shrug. "Anyway if it was crude it'd explain why Barzun was lookin for the stone."

"I'm sure it would."

"It's nasty stuff. Ye never worked with it none. It's nasty. There's a whole well of it bout six thousand fathoms under the delvin. Reckon whatever sort of creatures came fore dwarves left it. It won't speak when ye ask it. Only speaks as it burns and it doesn't have anythin nice te say. It's a right bitch te wash off. Like washin off a bitin badger. And if ye get it in yer throat or yer lungs, well, it'll stone ye up sure enough."

"So yer supposin Barzun needed the orcstone te save himself."

"He wasn't so careless as te let crude get him. But what if he'd aimed te bring back the critters and plants the crude took? Not many ways te control a gravity well, aye? Sure anythin comin up out of it just went everywhere, stickin all over everythin like nak shit. Killin it. Can't think that'd sit well with him, can ye?"

"Really Khaz, I barely remember him."

"Well I'm tellin ye it wouldn't. That's why he was after the orcstone. That and because of the delvin's problem."

She closed her eyes again. He'd run through it all. Maybe he'd sleep.

"Mym?"

She wouldn't answer.

"Alright ye just sleep then. But think on it. If Barzun thought there was somethin te it then maybe there was. If the orcstone wasn't near dwarves te begin with then they'd never have had it te lose. If he found it on the far side of the world then the delvin dwarves never could've used it te fix our problem. If he'd managed te bring it back te the delvin then he could've saved it. Could've saved all of it and all the dwarves with it."

She laid there and thought about it. How could she not? Finally she said, "I suppose we're leavin knowin less than what we came with."

She felt his hand snake down her shoulder. She reached up to grab it in hers. They were slick against each other from his sweat and the oil. "I don't know, Mym. I'd say ye learned some things."

She squeezed his hand then let go. "I never told her bout us,” she said.

"Ye'll have a chance."

"I don't know."

"I do."

"I shouldn't have left her behind."

"We all have te choose our own way."

She turned her face toward him. "Sounds like maybe ye learned somethin too."

"Somethin. Somethin about missed chances and impotence te lift a pound in this ten ton world. Somethin about seein what's right in front of ye and learning te love it. And no I don't mean ye and me. I know ye love me and I know yer limits too. I mean that woman yer worried about leavin.”

She took a breath as if gathering her strength for a tremendous push. “I need te tell ye somethin.”

“Ye don’t,” he said.

“I don’t?”

“Nah. I already know ye love her. I've always known. Yer worried ye did the wrong thing leavin her but ye didn't. Ye couldn't have. It's like we told that messenger fore we left. There aren't right things or wrong things. There are just things. Some things need doin and some things don't."

She yawned. "Afraid I'm too tired te follow yer wanderin. If ye want me comin along ye best throw down a line."

"Well I don't know how to say it all. Ye carryin yer da all the way back te the delvin to start. What choice did ye have? Seekin out Daraway and draggin her into the mess tween ye and that orc. Letting her dote on that girl. Runnin us all across the desert and straight into some chronicle of yore. Freein those brutes after what they did te the delvin dwarves. Fixin me into another damnable boat. All over a bit of metal and wood. And now the first stone enterin into it all."

"There's no stone."

"Weren't ye listenin?"

"Aye and ye gave me so many ifs I could sell em back te ye for a copper apiece and buy the world."

"Funny sayin."

"It's one of Cousins'. Anyway, there's no stone of the earth or orcstone or any of it and I'm goin te sleep."

"Ye say it but I know yer gears are crankin. I can hear the steam whistlin out of yer ears. And now yer feelin this thing out. Is it somethin else that needs doin? Stones and bones can ye ever say no?"

"I can te ye."

"But ye aren't, are ye? I shouldn't have said anythin."

"On that we agree."

"Don't forget why yer here. It's not for me or Daraway or the girl or the delvin, and definitely not some myth of a stone."

"I'm goin back te him," she said.

"Are ye?"

"Ye see me swingin beside ye in this horrid tub?"

She heard him moving around.

He said, "Can't see shit. It's darker than the inside of a nak butt."

"Darker than a tar blindfold."

"Darker than the black heart of the world."

For a moment she thought about that. But before her thought took form he said, "I don't know about ye, but I've already figured what needs doin."

"Yer finally goin te sleep?"

"I'm goin te finish my lad."

She hadn't expected that. "Da says nothin'll come of it if ye don't use shard of the sky."

"Ye know I don't think that'd make any difference."

"Me either. Yer still goin te do it?"

"Aye."

"What for?"

"Cause it's not bout changin what is. It's bout grievin what might've been."

"Hard te pin yer hopes te that."

She felt him shrug and he said, "I'm through hopin. Been hopin my whole life and all it's brought is a dragon's trove of misery. Torturin me every day with could'ves and should'ves. Been chasin them for as long as I remember, and now I'm lookin back and wonderin what joys I missed today by fixin everythin on tomorrow."

She heard his beard rustle and imagined him shaking his head in the dark.

He said, "I believed em. Thayne. Yer da. Thought ye and I were the ones te change everythin. Spent the better part of three decades hopin. Hell. If I'd known there wasn't any hope I would've done plenty differently. Wouldn't have let them twist ye into my bed for starters. Wouldn't have helped em chase out Daraway's folks. Wouldn't have sat around for so long waitin for tomorrow's promises. Hell I could've gone abroad with Barzun. Maybe I'd be comin back in this tub with the orcstone in my pocket right this instant."

"Kind of sounds like yer just tradin one hope for another."

"Well it's a hard habit to quit."

"There's no stone."

"I know."

"Then I expect ye te quit it."

"I'll try."

She felt him shift onto his side then back onto his back.

He said, "And ye? What ye plannin?"

"Te sleep."

"Aye, and?"

"Catch up with da."

"And if he's no better?"

"Well. It's like ye were just sayin. Right or wrong, some things need doin."

"Aye. I'm sorry."

"Me too, but yer right."

"Ye know if Barzun and those orcs and these humans are right, if they're onte findin the orcstone or any of the others, well they'd heal yer da up like he was fresh cut."

She'd already thought of it. "Last time I'll say it."

"Ye don't have te."

"Good. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

----------------------------------------

> +1 [Belonging]: ...it's probably just as hard givin up ways of thinking as it is givin up people. I wouldn't know. I ain't never been made to try... (5/10)