Ariadne finished fastening the latches on the armor, then waited for Barat to return.
“Is last one,” he said in his thick accent, hefting the bundle he carried—another of the Mage Knight panoplies Ariadne had been carrying with her since Tir Yadar.
“Help me set it up.” She needed more time with him before she sent him on his way to his next task.
Corec trusted the man—now that he’d been freed from Rusol’s influence—but the soldiers and settlers wouldn’t want their enemy’s commanding officer wandering free without supervision. Barat was meant to be seen working off his debt, with the understanding that he would eventually join Kevik’s fledgling order of knights.
He helped her drape the last panoply over its stand, and together they secured enough of the latches to hold it in place. That made nine sets of armor arranged in two neat rows. The spare panoplies had been stored in crates for months, but Ariadne had finally had a chance to get stands made for them, and Corec had allowed her to partition off part of the cellar into a separate room with a locking door. The matching swords already hung from hooks set along the wall.
“King Rusol has armor like this,” Barat said suddenly. “And a blade.”
Ariadne froze in place. “Mirrorsteel?” she asked. “Where did he get it?” Very few sets of mirrorsteel armor had ever been made, and nearly all of them had belonged to the Mage Knights.
“I do not know.”
“Have you ever heard the name Thedan? Or Ephrenia?”
He shook his head.
“You’ve told us Rusol’s an elder witch and demonborn,” Ariadne said. “Is he a wizard, too?” She’d never heard of anyone with three magics, but if Rusol was a Mage Knight, he’d be a more formidable foe than the group expected.
“He does not mention to me,” Barat said. “But I do not think so. He asks questions to wizards as if not knowing answers.”
Ariadne nodded. She’d have to tell Corec, but there was nothing else she could do about it for now. If Rusol was defeated, perhaps she could retrieve the armor. For now, she had nine other sets that still needed new bearers—which reminded her of her real reason for requesting Barat’s help.
“You are from the elder witches north of Larso, yes?” she asked him. This would be her first chance to follow some advice Ellerie had given her a year earlier.
He wrinkled his brow. “We say elderfolk. Mother was of clan, Father was of Larso. He sent me to Northtower to become knight instead.”
Ariadne retrieved the spell book Ellerie had found for her in Terevas—a book that, judging by the notes in the front, had once belonged to a Chosar Mage Knight, though not one whose name she recognized.
“Read this,” she said to Barat, opening it to the first spell.
“I do not know these letters.”
“I’ll teach you,” she said, pointing. “Ill-us-trant.” She couldn’t read the whole spell for him or she’d end up casting it instead, with the words becoming an indistinct whisper. She’d have to take it one part at a time.
If the test was successful, she could get help from Ellerie or Bobo to write up a list of sounds in Western matched to the symbols of the wizard language for Barat to learn from, but for now, she just wanted to know.
It took a while, but eventually they made their way through the short spell. “Illustrant ac tenebras, tenebras atque illustrant,” Barat said.
There it was. He hadn’t cast the spell—that would require building up the right pathways in his mind—but there’d been an echo of power in Ariadne’s arcane sight. Barat wasn’t just an elder witch. He had wizard blood as well, and having both meant he was likely descended from the Chosar. More importantly, it meant he could be trained as a Mage Knight.
Ariadne wouldn’t accept just anyone, though.
“Tell me,” she said, “what did your knighthood mean to you?”
The puzzled expression on his face suggested it was going to be a long conversation.
#
“Lady Ellerie, welcome back to Tir Yadar.”
“Thank you, Dorgt,” Ellerie said. Hildra’s son and his team had set up their main camp in the fortress complex, near what Ariadne referred to as the World Fountain. “I brought you something.” She handed over two freshly printed and bound books.
The stoneborn man raised his eyebrows as he peered at the titles. With his clerk’s suit and clean-shaven face, he looked more like a short human shopkeeper than a dwarven explorer and wizard.
“They’re done so quickly?” he asked.
“It didn’t feel quick to me.”
Dorgt laughed. “I’ll let Sanna read these first, since she’s compiling our own research. We’ll make sure we don’t duplicate your work. We’ve made it farther in than your notes suggested. I found a number of artifacts and systems that were clearly once enchanted to power the city, but the enchantments are long gone. Mother will be disappointed.” Hildra was due to arrive the next day, with help from Leena.
“Have you had any more trouble with the locals?” Ellerie asked.
“We had to rescue another group from Livadi that didn’t bring enough supplies to make it here and back,” Dorgt said. “I let them look around, then gave them enough food to get home. I believe it’ll be less of a problem in the future. Your friend Shavala has grown out ten miles of grassland. That’s enough to feed our own animals, so we’re turning this into a permanent outpost. I trust our deal still stands?”
Ellerie nodded. “Varsin Senshall and his brother understand that finding Tir Yadar doesn’t grant them any right to claim it for themselves. If anyone has the right to the city, it would be Ariadne. She’s content for the stoneborn to have a presence.” Ariadne had been more than happy with the idea of her people’s descendants returning to their ancestral home, but Ellerie didn’t want to sound too eager—she still wanted certain concessions out of the arrangement.
Dorgt looked down at the books he still held, hefting the smaller of the two. “This one, right?” he asked. “We haven’t told our people the truth yet. The fact that Tir Yadar is mostly underground lends credence to the idea that we lived here once, but the rest of it—the Chosar—I don’t know how they’ll react.” He snorted. “Some people still believe the old nonsense that we were birthed from stone itself.”
“If it’ll cause problems, you don’t have to say anything,” Ellerie said. “Just wait for copies of the book to make their way around. If people don’t believe it, then they don’t believe it.”
Dorgt nodded. “That may be the best way to handle it.” He set the books down on a small, intact table he’d found somewhere. “Time for a tour? What would you like to see first?”
“How’s the excavation going?” From where she was standing, Ellerie’s view of the western side of the courtyard was blocked.
“The spot where the stone was melted, you mean? Are you sure it’s worth it? It’s going to be a lot of work, and I can’t imagine anything in there would be salvageable after so much time. Or with so much weight on it.”
“Fortress West was where the Chosar conducted all their magical research and teaching,” Ellerie said. “The wardens lived there too—at least part of the time. If anything in there had strong enough protective wards to survive, we should try to find it. A single spell book could justify the cost of the work. Ariadne just asks that any bodies you find be laid to rest respectfully.”
“We can try again, I suppose,” Dorgt said. “We’ve only made it four feet in so far, through where we think the main entrance would have been. Melted or not, shaped stone is hard to crack, and I don’t have any miners or stonemasters here.”
The barrens remained a significant impediment to travel, and perhaps digging out Fortress West would have to wait until Hildra and her son had convinced more of the stoneborn to come to the city.
Or maybe there was a simpler answer.
“I have an idea,” Ellerie said. “But we’ll need to wait until your mother arrives—we need someone who can open the warded door.”
#
Shavala walked among the young tershaya, trailing her fingers across their trunks as she checked on their health. Her little forest at Tir Yadar, which had started in a plaza near the center of the ruins outside the mountain, now stretched eastward into the barrens. Dorgt and his people, still surveying the area, hadn’t been pleased about the buildings she’d destroyed, but if the tershaya were going to flourish on their own, without regular tending, they would need a larger area.
She’d made a small start on restoring the nearby flatlands as well, continuing the work she’d done to grow grasses and weeds near the river and extending them to reach the tershaya and beyond. A self-sustaining ecosystem, one that could attract birds and other wide-ranging creatures, would require more than just trees.
The sound of running footfalls echoed from a nearby street, then grew quieter as whoever it was reached the wooded area. Shavala waved her arms to help the runner find her among the trees.
It was a stoneborn boy, the son of one of Dorgt’s animal handlers. “Miss Shavala!” the boy said, then stopped to catch his breath. “Mum said to tell you Lady Hildra is here.”
Shavala thanked the boy and sent him back to his mother, then began the long trek into the mountain, to the palace complex. Fortress Central, as Ariadne called it.
The fortress’s courtyard, where Dorgt and his people had set up their inner camp, was nearly empty, but beyond the statues of the old gods, the palace’s warded door now stood wide open. Shavala could hear the clerks’ voices coming from inside, speaking in excited tones at their first chance to explore the new area.
She slipped through the door unnoticed, then made her way through the maze of corridors in the northeast until she reached the second door which required a warden to unlock it. This one too was open, leading to a hexagonal chamber with three rooms branching off. The one to the left held only heavy-duty metal shelves, their purpose long forgotten. Ellerie’s and another woman’s muffled voices came from the room to the right.
It was the middle door, the heavily rusted one, that interested Shavala. Even before she reached it, though, her elder senses told her she’d arrived too late. She opened it to find a room full of dead and dying mushrooms, lichens, and mosses. The green light they’d once given off had faded away, and there were no glowing moths to greet her. The unique system of life which had grown around the staff for centuries had failed.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Shavala stood still for a moment, trying to hold back her tears. She’d known the work she’d done to keep the room alive was temporary, but this had been her first opportunity to return. The journey to Tir Yadar had taken so long that she couldn’t realistically go back right away. Later, after Leena had learned to take other people with her when she Traveled, Shavala had been busy caring for Risingwind, and then doing what she could to help the new settlers deal with land that had returned to the wild. Even if she’d come on her own, she couldn’t have made it through the palace door without a warden. Would Corec have come with her? It hadn’t occurred to her to ask him—she’d thought she had more time.
She made her way to the mound where the staff had once stood, casting out with her elder senses as she went, but none of the funguses she saw were in good enough condition to be nursed back to health. She could regrow them—she’d retrieved the staff from Zhailai after the battle—but what was the point if they’d just fail again? She couldn’t leave the staff here. It was too important to the elven people, and she still had a great deal of work ahead of her in Terevas if she was going to bring the tree bond back to the nilvasta. And even if she regrew the mushrooms, she suspected they could only live in a symbiotic relationship with the moths, and there were no more moths.
Then she caught sight of something she hadn’t noticed before. Hanging from the tallest mushrooms surrounding the central mound were cocoons, dozens of them, many still showing signs of life. How long would it be before they hatched? A week? Two at the most?
She quickly pulled her foraging sacks from her coat pocket and gathered every cocoon she could find, mushroom and all—the larvae would need the mushrooms to feed on. She added representatives of all the other funguses and mosses she could find as well, then hurried to find Ellerie.
If Hildra was here, that meant Leena had come as well, and she might not have left yet. Shavala’s work outside the mountain was done for now, and the sooner she made it back to the free lands, the more likely she’d be able to find a new home for the moths before they hatched.
#
“Careful,” Hildra murmured. “You’re almost to the door, then there’s a step down.”
Ellerie peered around from behind the tunneling golem. She’d learned it was easiest to control the golem while standing behind it. If she moved to the side for a better view, it would attempt to mirror her actions in a more exaggerated manner. Supposedly the Chosar had a way to see through the artificial creature’s glass eyes, but the note Ariadne sent back with Leena said she didn’t know how they’d accomplished it.
The golem, similar in appearance to a rough-hewn stone statue the size of a very large man, had been left behind by the Chosar in the chamber they referred to as the Enchantment Repository. Ariadne insisted there should be three more somewhere, but even Dorgt’s more intensive explorations hadn’t turned up anything similar.
Ellerie took three tiny steps forward, toward the door, then waited as the golem took three much larger steps, passing through the opening and then misjudging the stair by a few inches and falling over with a loud crash.
The first time it had fallen, she’d worried she’d broken it, but after hours of practice, she’d grown accustomed to showing it how to stand back up again. This time, she had it crawl forward to flat ground and away from the shallow step before standing. There was no sense in tempting fate by risking it tripping again, but it required that she herself crawl to demonstrate the movements she wanted it to take. She was just glad none of her friends were there to see it—Leena and Shavala had already returned to the free lands.
Ellerie had to avert her gaze while the golem regained its footing. There was something unnatural about the way it moved, wrenching to the eyes, that gave her a headache if she watched too closely. While the creature had the form of a stone statue, it moved in a way that stone never could. It was all one piece, yet the joints flowed like liquid despite appearing—and feeling—solid.
She’d left the golem in Tir Yadar after her first visit not only due to its size and weight, but also because it had protective wards she couldn’t identify. Ariadne had suggested the wards wouldn’t be trapped, and that they were there simply to keep the golem from being activated by accident. She’d sent a list of potential activation sequences, and the fifth one Ellerie tried—a series of taps on the back of the thing’s neck—had worked.
Now, away from the tight corridors of Fortress Central, she cautiously maneuvered the tunneling golem between the two rows of statues that made up the totem walk. At the end she turned right, taking advantage of the wide gap between the end of the totem walk and the World Fountain to give herself more room to move.
“Clear the way!” Dorgt called out to a group of clerks who’d gathered to watch the curious sight. The stoneborn went to work opening a path through the mess of a camp they’d built up over the past weeks.
Ellerie waited until they were done and out of her way, then walked the golem through the gap and over to the remains of Fortress West, to the shallow hole Dorgt’s people had dug out of the entrance.
Holding her breath in anticipation, she directed the golem’s left hand forward in a scooping motion. In keeping with the creature’s mostly featureless nature, rather than having separate fingers, each hand was all one piece, somewhat reminiscent of a shovel. The hand slipped into the stone without resistance, and when Ellerie pulled back, a thick curl of stone came with it, like a spoonful of butter. Despite the ease with which it had been freed, the stone itself was still solid.
Ellerie dropped the detritus over to the side and out of her way. Moving faster now that she had a feel for it, she dug with both hands, practicing scooping both high and low to clear out an opening large enough for someone to walk through.
Dorgt called a halt to the activity a moment later. “We’ll need to start hauling this out of the way before we do more digging. Can anyone use it, or just a wizard?”
“Ariadne wasn’t sure, but it doesn’t feel like it’s using any of my own magic,” Ellerie said. She took a folded sheet of paper from her pocket and handed it over. “Here’s a map of the main floor of Fortress West, as best she can remember it. She says she probably missed some things—she didn’t spend a lot of time there. I think our best chance to find something worthwhile will be the private offices at the far end, but if you have time, Ariadne suggested digging out the main ritual chamber. She doesn’t know what happened there after she went to sleep.”
Ariadne did know some of it, but Ellerie had been careful to keep the old wardens’ true fate a secret. She’d only told Hildra and Dorgt about the ritual to explain its connection to the Burning—providing just enough detail to interest them in aiding her efforts, and to give them a reason for why Ariadne had been put in stasis.
Dorgt looked over the map. “If I’m understanding the scale right, this looks big. It’s not something we can get done right away.”
Ellerie nodded. “We don’t need to rush, but I think it’s worth the effort to make the attempt. Be careful, though. Stone and earth are the only things the golem can cut through like that, but it’s still strong and heavy enough that it could destroy anything else you come across just by accident.”
Dorgt nodded. “I’ll have people practice with it before we go any farther in. Plenty of rocks around here to play with.”
#
Dusty’s hooves thundered beneath him as Nedley charged at the wooden dummy. His practice lance hit the target and splintered, the impact throwing him off his saddle. He landed face up, the wind knocked out of his lungs. The borrowed horse trotted back, staring down at him as if wondering why he’d done something so stupid.
Kevik strode over and helped Nedley to his feet.
“Good armor,” the other man said, knocking dust off Nedley’s breastplate. “It’s not even dented. But next time, remember to hit the part of the target that moves.”
Nedley managed to take a deep breath and immediately had a coughing fit. Getting it under control, he said, “I just can’t get it right. I can handle fighting with a sword and shield, but being on horseback feels completely different.”
“There’s a tool for every job,” Kevik said. “Corec doesn’t bother with a lance or a crossbow because he doesn’t need them, but a knight has to master every tool in his arsenal. Horse included.”
“A knight?”
“You didn’t think we were doing this just for fun, did you? But you were right before—the bit of training we’ve been doing here and there isn’t enough for you to master the skills. I’d like you to switch over full time. You’ll still have responsibilities with the soldiers, like Trentin and I do, but this will be your main focus. I’ve already cleared it with Sarette.”
“You want me to join the Knights of the Dragon?”
Kevik smirked. “I guess that name’s going to stick, isn’t it? It could be worse, I suppose. Officially you’re in training, and knights spend years as trainees, but we’ll push you through it as fast as we can. Here, I’ve got something for you.”
He went to the side of the practice yard and retrieved a stack of books from a pack he’d brought with him that day.
“Courtly graces, civics, military history,” he said, handing them over one by one. “All focused on Larso, unfortunately, but they’ll do for a start. Don’t lose them—these were all Trentin and I were able to scrounge up between us.”
“I should read them?” Nedley asked.
“That’s the idea, yes. Pick one to start with and study a chapter each night, then be ready to talk about it the next day.”
Nedley grimaced. He only had a vague idea of what a chapter was, but he was rather certain it involved multiple pages. It could take him twenty minutes just to make his way through a single page. But if it meant becoming a knight? That was a position of respect and responsibility, a station well above anything he’d imagined for himself growing up. If it required reading, he’d do it.
With the training session over, Nedley limped back to Hilltop, finding Kimi waiting for him at the entrance to the thorn wall. She was done with her teaching duties for the day, but Nedley wasn’t feeling up to their usual walk.
“What happened to you?” she asked, taking the books so he could remove his helmet and gauntlets.
“Kevik again,” he said. “He wants me to join the knights.”
Her face lit up. “You’d be a knight? A real-life knight?”
“A trainee, for a while.”
“Still, that’s wonderful!” she said. She glanced at the spines of the books and held out the one on civics. “I’ve read this one before.”
“I’ve got to read them all.”
“I could help!” Kimi knew how little experience Nedley had with real books.
“I think I’m supposed to do it myself.”
She nodded. “Are we still going shopping for house things today?”
Nedley had forgotten. The workers had finished adding a second story and attic to his cottage, as well as a new shake roof. While the original structure was built of clay brick and the upper floors were of cheaper wood construction, Nedley rather liked the look—though it had cost him a good bit of coin.
“Sure,” he said. “Let’s go drop these things off first.”
They walked around the rear of the fortress to the house, leaving the books and Nedley’s armor and shield there. He strapped his sword belt back on, though—all the soldiers were supposed to keep their personal arms with them when they were out and about.
He would have liked to switch to clean clothing, but if Sister Berit discovered he’d gotten undressed while Kimi was with him, she wouldn’t let them walk about unchaperoned anymore.
“What do you suppose I need to buy?” he asked as they made their way to Ezra’s new shop building. “Pots and pans? Are there different types?”
Kimi laughed. “I don’t know. Cooking isn’t a skill taught to concubine candidates.”
“Oh.” Nedley hadn’t considered that. It would have to be camp cooking gear, then—that was all he knew how to use.
“Curtains for the windows,” Kimi suggested. “If Ezra sells that sort of thing.”
“We can ask. I’ll have to find a carpenter to make some furniture too.” A table and chairs at least, and a bed. The new rooms could stay empty for now.
At the shop, they found Netta—the widow woman who’d accompanied Nedley’s caravan—watching the counter. She was usually gone by this time of day, after the children got out of school, but Ezra must have had business elsewhere for the evening. Her two young sons were playing some quiet game on the floor. Kimi went over to greet the boys, though she’d just seen them an hour earlier.
Netta greeted Nedley with a smile. He’d checked on her a few times during her first weeks in Hilltop to make sure she was getting by. Lately he’d seen her spending time with Trooper Harlan, so it seemed she’d adjusted to her new life.
Nedley explained what he was looking for and Netta nodded. “I’ll help you find what you need for the kitchen,” she said. “I can do up some curtains and sheets for you too, if you bring me the measurements—Ezra has all the materials.”
They did find pots and pans as well as a new fire grate to set them on, plus plates, bowls, and utensils.
Kimi rejoined them, asking, “What about food?”
That set off another round of purchases, ending with bags of beans, rice, and dried apples and berries. As a treat, Nedley added a ball of butter from one of the farmers who’d brought milch cows with him, and a wheel of cheese which had likely come from Four Roads or South Corner. He could still have one meal a day at the barracks, so that seemed enough to get started with. He drew the line at flour, cornmeal, and pickled vegetables—he wouldn’t know what to do with them. He avoided the salt pork too, since the town had a butcher now.
They made arrangements to have the purchases delivered to the cottage, and then as Nedley and Kimi were backing out the door, saying goodbye to Netta, they heard a wagon coming to a stop behind them.
A familiar voice spoke. “He’s probably up at the keep, but let’s ask here and find out where we can put up the animals.”
Nedley spun around. “Cenric?” he said. The last time he’d seen him, the former red-eye had been headed back to his little farm plot north of Four Roads.
Cenric had already climbed down from the wagon. Two women were still seated on the bench.
“Ned?” the other man replied, grasping Nedley’s forearm in greeting. “Is Corec around?”
“He’s traveling up north for a few days. If you came that way, you probably missed him along the road. What are you doing here? I thought you were staying on your farm.” The wagon bed was clearly filled with the small family’s possessions. Nedley had seen similar sights with the refugees.
“I’m looking for work,” Cenric said. “Blight got the potato crop. When the crows got into the corn, I figured it was time to cut my losses and get down here before the rush. Is Corec still looking for men?”
“He might be,” Nedley said. They’d paused their recruiting, but Cenric had experience the other men didn’t. “Sarette’s Captain of the Guard now—she can tell you. What do you mean, the rush?”
“Everyone knows there’s free land here for the taking. Now that the harvest’s in, all those younger sons and the families with smaller farms are going to be heading this way. I saw caravans assembling from Riverfork down to Four Roads. They can’t be more than a few days behind me.”