“Oh, I’m gonna throw up!”
The journey out was far more difficult than the trip in. Saffron and her companions collapsed to their knees, exhausted. On the dirt road, Dayne and Maarko vomited from their disorientation of the phasing trip. The shock of being in the daylight one minute and arriving here at night added to their exhaustion. A sound of crickets and tree frogs echoed through the forest of pines, and the cool air felt refreshing against their feverish heads.
Saffron stood to get her bearings, but her knees wobbled, still weak. She sat back down and breathed in the earthy scent of mulched leaves and tangy evergreens. “Geez! I feel like I’m coming off of a three-day bender?”
“Combination of a dimensional trip, a distance of a thousand kilometers, and having a year taken from you will do that. Or at least I figure as much.” Maarko wiped the vomit from his mouth and spit remnants to the pine needles at his feet. “We’ll be as good as new in a few minutes.”
“We’re here.” Saffron rested her arms on her knees and pointed to a carved sign bearing the name “Fontenot Park” etched in crude letters stationed near a dirt road. “We should camp before heading into town. It’d be best for us to go during the day rather than skulking around in the dark.” She scanned the area, but saw only the shapes of towering pines, oak trees, and thick tangles of brush. The soil looked well-traveled and weaved through into the distance.
Thulaeth put his palms to his forehead and winced. “I agree. My head is pounding like a thousand dwarven hammers.”
Maarko felt the same. “Yeah. Nobody will move at night anyway, so early light works for me.”
They decided the best idea would be to set up camp right off the road. While the others spread their blankets, Dayne walked about and gathered branches and kindling for a fire.
“Thulaeth, you have first watch.” Saffron said.
He threw his hands in the air in protest. “Why me? I had it first last time.”
“And you will go first next time if you want to keep arguing with me. You’re the new guy, so suck it up.”
“Yes, Inspector.” He sulked and plopped down on a nearby tree stump.
The old drow grinned. “Sucks to be the green-teat, don’t it?”
Saffron snapped to. “Maarko, you’ve got dinner duty. Get to it.”
“Wha-?” The elder drow humphed, shrugged his shoulders, and reached into the packs for rations. He knew better than to contest her orders.
Dayne returned with his arms heavy with twigs and branches for the campfire. He dropped them with a clatter to the earth, then piled the sticks in a loose stack. Saffron walked over and spread her blanket on the ground. “Dayne, make a Brigand’s Fire, will you?”
“A what?” He stopped and delivered an inquisitive glance.
“Dig a hole and start the fire in it. I don’t want the light to be seen, and we should presume that we are being watched.”
“Are we?” He moved the branches and chipped at the frosted ground with a trowel from his pack.
“You and I have been doing this for a long time. Maarko’s been around for a while, but not with us. One thing I’ve learned is a mission is always bigger than we think.”
The husky drow nodded. “I thought about that earlier. I mean, if the Governor is involved, that can be huge.”
“Yeah. What’s been sticking with me is why us? There are Daggers closer than we are, yet the Director insisted we go.” She considered for a moment. “It isn’t my place to question the leadership, and that’s not what I’m doing. She knows I’ll do what she orders, even if it kills me. That’s my duty.”
Dayne remained thoughtful before speaking. He and Saffron had a long history. They’ve battled together and lost soldiers together. She’s leaned on him and cried while he’s done the same. That’s why he respected her. She wasn’t too stern to know there would be times you had to let it out.
That being said, he still acknowledged her position. “Ma’am, maybe that’s why she picked us. We’ve been a unit for years and she knows she can trust and count on us to finish the job.”
“Perhaps, but it simply doesn’t set well with me. This is bigger than drow disappearing.”
If these men had a rank, Dayne would be her lieutenant. In drow military culture, men could only attain the rank of sergeant, so there wouldn’t be a problem with insubordination or power plays. Women held the higher ranks, but normally, leaders relied on others in their command. Dayne was smart and stronger than any drow she had ever known. She had once seen him lift an entire horse off the ground. It took effort, but he was successful. She counted on his opinion and would often ask him what his thoughts might be about whatever mission they were on. Saffron could count on him and, in their line of work, a fellow warrior to talk to and trust proved invaluable.
She moved on with their discussion. “What do you think about Thulaeth?”
“Ma’am?” He paused, cocked his head, then struck his flint and steel to ignite the tinder. He gave a gentle blow to the flames, and it sparked. Soon, the tangy odor of pine needles and wood smoke reached their noses. Dayne stacked rocks around the hole in the ground. “What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. Is he one of us? His reluctance to join the Daggers became obvious when I recruited him. Honestly, he had little choice in the matter.”
Dayne knew what she implied. “He’s been with us for a year. Has a smart mouth, is naïve, impetuous, and needs to learn his place.”
“I certainly won’t fight you on those points.” Saffron pried open a tin of gray meat and scooped the food from the can.
The strong drow warmed his palms by the fire. “But that being said, I’ve seen that crossbow of his hit a target dead between the eyes at 120 yards. I’ve rarely experienced a shooter that good. He’s superb with figuring out traps, puzzles, and picking locks, but a spoiled child with all else. With all that, I think we can work with him.”
Maarko walked over and held chunks of meat wrapped in thick weaved canvas. “Hey kids, what are you talking about?” His brow furrowed when he spied Saffron eating her gray food. “What’s this? You couldn’t wait? I was going to cook us a prime rabbit!”
“Oh, sorry about that.” She put the tin down. “I’m not that hungry, anyway.”
“I am!” From a distance, Thulaeth’s voice chimed in, hidden in a cluster of bushes.
“You always are!” She shook her head and unpacked another blanket.
“Hey! I’m a growing boy!”
***
Saffron awakened the following dawn with the sound of shuffling leaves and inaudible whispers. Her men had already risen and packed their gear. Dayne stood nearby and kicked the pile of loose dirt over the dwindling embers. The coals smoldered as smoke drifted into the frigid morning air. A thin layer of frost coated their belongings and starlings trilled their melody deep in the trees.
“Listen,” Maarko said to Saffron, who sat up now. Her thick wool blankets covered her legs. He pulled the fat brown cigar from his mouth and blew a plume of gray smoke. “Just because you’re the boss doesn’t mean you get to sleep in!”
“Watch it, old man.” Her voice wearied, but stern. “I’m still your leader.” His jest amused her.
Maarko threw his hand up and waved her away. “Yeah, yeah.”
Saffron looked over at Dayne, who cleaned his face with a moistened cloth. His eyelids drooped and deep purple circles rested below his tired eyes. “Wow, I guess I’m not the only one who is beat.”
“We all are. It’s about an hour past daylight. We should get going.”
The Inspector assembled the group and briefed them. “Ok. So, this is the last known location of Marcrumm Dial. More than likely, he won’t be simply walking around, so we’ll start at the saloon. Every grand adventure begins in a bar, yeah?” She looked at each of them. “We don’t know this area very well. We’re in Sill and human territory, so I’m not sure how the locals will take to a bunch of shadow-elves asking questions. Tread light and keep your weapons stowed.“
She hoisted her pack over her shoulder and buttoned her coat. They neared the Avonhelm mountain range and beyond that, Coldhel, the frigid northern lands. “Let me do most of the talking. At least until we can figure out how friendly these folks are. More than likely, we’ll attract the attention of the sheriff here, so try not to look... threatening.” As if that would be possible. Four drow armed to the teeth, one of them six heads high. She recanted her statement. “Well, try to look less threatening.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Excellent. Best behavior, gents.” Maarko and the others nodded and put their satchels around their back.
They landed a kilometer north of where the town sat and the cold from the dirt road seeped through the leather of their boots. Steel-gray clouds formed in the northwest sky, bringing a chill with them. The forest became silent, and the smell of pines hung heavy in the crisp, mountain air. “It’s going to snow soon.” Dayne said.
“How can you tell?”
“Don’t know. Just smells like it, I guess.” He searched the thick brambles before looking in the air. “I’ve always enjoyed the snow. Everything gets silent, even the animals. It’s one of the best parts of living on the surface versus underground. Here we have seasons as if nature is telling you ‘I’ve had enough. Let’s try something different.’ It wakes a person up, is all.”
A few minutes later, during their walk, as predicted, the first flakes of snow fell from the gray sky above. Large fluffs drifted down and dusted their black cloaks. “It appears you got your wish, D.” Thulaeth tightened the clasp on his dark woolen cover. Downy puffs of white rested on their gear as they trudged on.
The sounds of Fontenot Park arrived before the view of the town did. Voices and laughs reached their ears, then the town came into view. Larger than they had expected, the village teemed with activity. The townspeople were busy stocking up on supplies before the heavy snowfall. Huge lumber wagons traveled the main road between rows of shops and other businesses. People moved around carrying bundles of clothes and food while chatting with their friends.
“Maarko, what do you know about this place?” Saffron asked.
“Not much. Never been here, but what I’ve heard is it’s a logging town. Has been for a couple of hundred years. Mostly human, which is surprising considering its location in elven territory.”
Many of the townsfolk, as expected, kept a close eye on the newcomers when they entered the city. The snow covered the sparse, dead grass and crunched under their feet. A man on horseback approached them. He wore a thick gray fur coat with a matching cap on his head. As he spoke, his silvery beard parted, revealing a yellow smile. “Hail! Welcome to Fontenot Park! Can I help you folks?” A hint of suspicion tinged his cheerful attitude. Can’t blame him. Saffron mused.
She put on her best diplomatic smile and a folksy tone in her voice. “Yessir. Actually, we are needing a warm place to get a drink, for starters.”
His eyes narrowed as he inspected the drow up and down. “You all here for business or amusement?”
“What sort of amusement is to be had here? Making snowballs?” Maarko spoke before his brain could stop him.
Saffron glared at him and smiled again. “Just passing through. Looking for a friend that might have come through here.”
“A drow friend? We see a lot of elves here, but not a lot of drow.” He relinquished the interrogation with a shrug of his broad, furred shoulders. “Alright then. Hooky’s Saloon is up the road. You’ll get a drink and information for a price. Y’all armed?”
They each looked at each other, unsure as how to respond. Finally, Saffron said, “We are, but we aren’t here for trouble, I promise you.”
“Well, you’d be a damn fool if you didn’t have a weapon on ya. We got helwolves around here, and they don’t mind coming into town looking for food. Big bastards too.” He stroked his jacket with gloved hands. “One of ‘em was kind enough to give me this warm coat!” He pulled up the furry sleeve to show them a long pink scar running the length of his arm. “But I had to pay him for it!” His head leaned back and roared with boisterous laughter. “If you hear the alarm bell, get inside and stay inside. Them beasts will come day or night.”
“You the Sheriff?” Right to the point, Saff.
“Me?” This brought out another laugh. “Naw. I own Sloan’s Mercantile. Jack Sloan’s the name.” He extended his palm. “The finest logging supplies, camping gear, and food in the elven territories.”
She took his hand in hers. “DeGuerro. Saffron DeGuerro.” She introduced the others, who nodded at the burly stranger.
“Well, y’all have a great day and find a place to lay your head before night. The helwolves own the night.”
“Wolves. Gotcha. Thanks Jack. Appreciate it.”
The man rode off whistling a catchy tune and waved to a few women walking down the street.
Thulaeth and the others crossed the road, avoiding a loaded lumber cart. “He seemed pretty nice.”
“Let’s hope they are just as friendly at answering questions.”
“Guess this town isn’t so bad after all.” Maarko said as they neared a log building marked “Hooky’s Saloon.”
Without warning, the twin hinged doors to the pub swung apart, and a man flew from the opening. He slammed the ground at their feet with a puff of fresh snow and groaned.
A massive bartender stepped out, wearing a filthy apron and thrust a finger at the guy. “And stay outta Hooky’s!” He saw Saffron and put his hands on his hips. “Y’all here to drink or fight?”
She cleared her throat. “Just a drink, sir.”
“Well, c’mon in then.” He turned and strode back into the darkened saloon.
“I wonder what he would’ve said had we told him we’re here to fight?” Thulaeth leaned in to Maarko, who shook his head and proceeded up the steps.
The team walked through the doors, and a myriad of smells and sounds assaulted their senses. The usual bar odor of sweet pipe tobacco, the pungent stench of cigar smoke, and spilled whiskey greeted them. A thin layer of sawdust mixed with puddles of melting snow coated the wooden floor. The saloon held about ten patrons who played cards, while others enjoyed their hard liquors.
“Four whiskeys.” Maarko said to the man.
“And a bit of information if that’s ok?” Saffron eyes pierced the bartender.
“Drinks cost, information costs a little more.” The bartender pulled four shot glasses from behind the counter and set them on the dark wooden bar.
“We’re looking for a fella that might’ve come through in the past month or so. Curly headed fella doesn’t seem like he belongs in a logging town. A fish out of water, so to speak.”
“Dressed funny?” The barkeep added.
“Probably. Young guy, I suppose.”
“Ah, I might’ve seen him.” The man eyed Saffron as she opened her pouch to pay for the drinks.
She acknowledged his look and pulled a couple of extra silver coins from her purse. She placed them on the bar and slid the coins towards the man.
He scooped up the coins and looked around. “Yeah, I saw him here. Got stinking drunk and nearly got his ass handed to him.”
“What happened to him?” Saffron held her bag, confident as she might need it again.
“Got fresh with one of the working girls. She sat with another guy, tough sonofabitch. Before her client could ring his bell, a couple of sharp dressed armored guys came in, payed for his tab, and drug him outta here.”
“How far back did that happen?” Dayne tapped the tabletop with his fingers.
The barkeep looked at Saffron’s purse again and remained speechless.
“Alright, alright.” She pulled a couple more coins out and gave them to him.
“A week ago. Haven’t seen him since.”
“I don’t suppose he said what brought him here?” Saffron asked him.
“No.” He placed his hands on the scratched wooden bar. “Listen, I don’t ask the guests a lot of questions. Figured he’s just traveling through.”
“Thanks.” The Inspector stood from the counter and turned. “Let’s get breakfast. I’m starved. Can you send a server to our table?”
He grumbled and moved to service another customer.
Dayne, Maarko, and Thulaeth switched over to the table near the piano. The music might cover questions they have to witnesses. A few of the patrons watched and mumbled, then rambled back to their own business. Saffron stopped and returned to the barkeep. “One more question? Who’s the girl he talked to? Is she here?”
The bartender gestured to a disheveled red-head whose painted eyelids drooped as if she neared sleep at any moment, leaning on a banister. “Marlene?” He threw his rag at her, and she jerked out of her daze. Her eyes widened like a surprised fawn. He pointed to their table. “She’ll take your order and maybe answer your questions.” His eyes went down to Saffron’s money bag. “But I hope you have more of that.”
The Inspector nodded and led her men to an open table near the center of the saloon. The crunch of sawdust and creaking wood followed them.
Marlene drifted to where the team sat, showing no concern that she would wait on shadow elves. They noticed she must still be wearing the clothes from the night before. Sharp wrinkles lined the cotton dress, and a few dark stains spattered on the gingham fabric. Her white blouse unbuttoned and dangerously open, the fear she would spill out if she leaned over too far became clear. “Oooh, drow, huh?” Her hazel eyes fell on Dayne and her lids closed slightly. “Never had a drow before. How you doing, baby?”
Saffron shut her down, wincing at the sour stink of body odor. “Marlene, is it? We’re only here for information.” She could swear Dayne blushed as his dark cheeks turned a shade darker.
“Alright, don’t get yer knickers in a twist. You got money? My time is valuable, y’know?” She glared at the Inspector.
“We have coin.” She jingled her purse, the coins rattling their sweet song to the prostitute.
“Well, dearie, I’m on the clock then.”
Saffron continued to describe the mage they looked for and added the information that the barkeep had given them.
“Yeah, I remember him. Cute, geeky kid. Couldn’t handle his liquor though, I can tell you.” Marlene recalled the details of that night.
“What stood out? I mean, it’s been a month ago. Why would you remember him?” Saffron pried.
“Besides the fact that I’ve never seen him in this backwater town before?” She pulled a pouch from her belt purse and slid a pinch of tobacco into her bottom lip. Briefly, they saw her mouth stained from a previous dip with flecks of leaves wedged captive between her filthy teeth.
Nasty habit, especially for a woman. “Yeah, besides that.”
“Well, he kept going on about the end of the world or something like that. Said he had been here working on a project, but became scared about the way it turned out.” She spit a collection of the brown juice from her lips and it spattered on the floor.
The bartender’s booming voice erupted beyond the bar. “Marlene! How many times I gotta tell you? Use the can!” He thrust a thick finger towards the spittoon next to the table leg. She waved him off.
Doing their best to ignore this, although proving difficult, Maarko rested his hands on the surface. “Did he say where he lived or worked?”
The prostitute’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Hey? Why is it you drow come all the way up to this frozen hellhole looking for a human?”
“Marlene,” Saffron jingled the purse again. “I believe we’re the ones paying for information unless you would like to give us a little for free.”
She looked over at Dayne with her eyes half-lidded, doing her best to look seductive. If only she paid equal attention to the thin brown trail of tobacco juice that dribbled down her chin. “You don’t talk enough, hero. I’ll grant you a freebie.”
“Please madam, only the information.” Dayne’s response remained curt.
“Alright, alright.” She slumped into the back of the chair. “He didn’t have time to say much more. Two big armored guys came in and dragged him outta the bar. Haven’t seen him since.”
Saffron pulled her notebook out and flipped to a page with sigils marked on it. “Can you tell me if any of those soldiers wore this sigil?” She pointed to a drawn sketch of a mountain with a tree on top of it. Underneath the delicate swooping curves of high-elvish writing emblazoned the symbol.
Marlene’s filthy fingers pulled the notebook over so she could see it clearer. “It happened really fast, but yeah, that looks familiar. What’s that scrawling under it?”
“It says ‘Belarian Cross’.” Saffron looked at the team. “You remember any other details? It’s absolutely important that we find him, as he could be in danger.” She dragged the journal back to her and put it in her bag.
“No, but he can’t be too far. Perhaps he worked in Brightbane Keep up on the mountain. I’ve heard that’s where Belarian Cross stays. She’s the Governor, yeah?”
“Yeah.” The Inspector slid a gold Eagle to the woman. “Thank you, Marlene. I trust you’ll keep this to yourself?” She pushed another coin across the worn tabletop.
She swiped up the glimmering money and bit down on it with her stained teeth. “Sure, ok.” Once more, she looked at Dayne. “If you need me, simply holler, yeah?”
He glanced down and remained silent.
“Oh, one more tidbit, and this one’s for free. I hear there is a party tomorrow night at Brightbane. Invitations don’t make it to the locals, but a lot of the territory mayors will be there.”
Saffron showed intrigue. “A party you say?”