Chapter 4. Seven Bloody Minutes
“Ah, home sweet home!”
Thulaeth skipped up the blackened stone steps leading past the towering carved columns straight to the main doors of Drowchard.
After the mysterious cataclysm that destroyed much of the drow’s subterranean home and filled the caverns with poisonous gas and fire, those remaining had little choice but to move to the surface where, historically, a deep hatred for shadow elves existed. Drow had used this to remain hidden to practice their ways of life. Some brave traders and adventurers would venture among the world of man, dwarf, and orc, but many were quick to return to the comfort of the darkened tunnels where they carved great cities into the granite over centuries. Once the arcane green conflagration erupted from vast chasms in the stone, a large amount of them died choking on their liquefied stomachs before others could escape.
On the surface, they found the kingdoms deep in conflict with treacherous gnomes. The shadow elves, realizing that they had to be here, at least for a short time, took advantage of the raging war and offered their aid against the “tinkers”. King Charles the Ninth of Grayvine was the only ruler with the sense to appreciate the drow and convinced the other four kingdoms to support this alliance. Through various truces, agreements, and the cooperation they had given during the Tinkers Uprising, each kingdom gifted the drow territories to establish their new homes.
Marchenne was the capital of Grayvine, bordered by mountains on the west. Shadow elves had named the mountains Campranio Drowchard after their previous home, carving their society into the hard rock of the mountain. The Dark Hall of Drowchard, dubbed “The Drow District,” passed as the gateway to what would someday be a new city. Crafted from enormous obsidian and granite stones, it’s been taking shape over the previous nine years and served as an embassy and border for their territory. Laborers, sculptors, and stonemasons labored around the clock to work on the ambitious project. The Empress had even organized the Drow Reclamation Committee whose purpose was to re-enter the abandoned homes deep in the earth and recover artifacts from the poisoned shell that used to be their home.
Empress Adellakara triumphantly saved her race from the brink of extinction. Through great effort, she established relationships in this unfamiliar realm. Her strategy was to improve on drow history and show the world that they are nothing to fear. “An Ebon Age of new opportunities!” She had proclaimed in her christening of the Great Hall. She was even successful in convincing King Charles to allow her to continue to govern the shadow elves with autonomy and, in return, she would expand the Drow Affairs Guild to police their own kind.
The D.A.G.gers existed before the Reformation, but they were far more clandestine in their operations. Humans had often exploited shadow elves as horror stories to tell around a campsite or cautionary tales to frighten children into correct behavior. Ten years later, the drow were growing more commonplace in villages and cities across the realms. Daggers stepped from the shadows, fulfilling their Empress’ promise and monitoring drow conduct to keep their people accountable. Other countries and kingdoms were quick to acknowledge their authority, as it was one less issue for them to concern themselves with. Sills or Silver elves were the exception, who held nothing but contempt for their very distant cousins and wished they had never crawled from their dark rock.
Their heavy footsteps echoed off the polished walls of the vast chamber. Brightly colored tapestries of all ten drow houses hung from the lofty ceiling with thick golden ropes. The entrance supported high-society occasions, diplomatic presentations, and royal visits. Suits of antique shadow elven armor rescued from their abandoned homes lined the purple tiled floors with the dim lights reflecting off of the surfaces.
The unit turned left through an intricate ivory archway and entered a conference chamber. A great, dark wood table with ten chairs, each representing a notable Drow house, centered the room. Affixed in the center, a translucent blue stone sparkled inset into a golden ring. Magnificent paintings depicting key wars and events in drow history hung on the walls alongside weapons and relics. The recognizable form of Chief Director Tetathay Thangalier awaited them at the far end. Her black uniform clung to her like a second skin, with delicate gold piping down the sleeves. The lantern light shimmered off bright threads in the Elfweave as she extended her arms to them. A young boy tended a blazing fire on a stone hearth behind her.
“Welcome back, Unit 8. Please have a seat.” Her voice flowed smoothly and with a diplomatic tone. Director Thangalier was a well-educated and skilled mage, which proved ideal for her job. She sat at the far end of the table. “I’ve read your report from Ghaphis. Excellent work for you and your team.”
“Thank you.” Saffron nodded to her.
“Because of your efforts, the Drow Nationals could shut down the slavers’ market of Vol’Muuthik, for the time being at least, and we’ll return the families you rescued back to their homes. More than likely, Dame Jewel, who had escaped, will be up and running somewhere else soon. Still, wonderful job.”
“Ma’am, we could go after her, if it is the Empire’s intention.” Saffron suggested.
“No. Unit 5 is being assigned that mission. I have something for you that takes precedence. This one comes from the top.”
“The Empress?” It surprised Dayne that their leader would take an interest in this case.
“Yes.” Tetathay’s slim fingers stroked her flaxen hair, pulled into two tight buns on the back of her head. Her golden eyes shone bright and stood out against the flawless dark blue skin. She clapped her hands and the young lad was quick to move to her. “Osmund, bring our guests some food and drink.”
Without saying a word, the boy nodded and dashed into another room. After waiting for him to leave, Tetathay walked to the stone at the center of the table and placed her palm on it. They heard an audible hum, and sparkles of blue light swirled from the polished glass. “Your next task is to track down this man.” The crackling teal orbs drew together and formed the visage of a young human with tangled blonde curls. “This is Marcrumm Dial, an exceptionally skilled mage and engineer. He graduated the top of his class at both Aire Nexbridge and Nexbridge Prime.”
They studied his face, taking in every detail. Saffron spoke. “The wizard university and the engineering school?”
“Correct. As I said, he’s highly skilled.” She pulled a bag from under the desk and placed a gilded ivory headpiece on the table with two gems inset on it. The circular device would fit over a person’s head while on the backside of it was an ornate box which presumably contained the mechanics needed to make it function. “He invented Dialspeak, the communication crown.”
“Oooh. Those would be great in the field. How does it work?” Maarko’s gaze widened with intrigue.
“Simple.” She placed the crown on her head, closed her eyes and palmed the gems on both sides of the device. They hummed and illuminated from behind her fingers. “You then speak keywords and the name of the person you are trying to contact. If they have a Dialspeak, they can talk to you in your mind.” She removed the crown and set it back on the table. “It is too bulky to be used in the field… yet. Our engineers are attempting to figure out how to shrink the machine so military units can use it.”
Saffron reached out and laid her hand on the cool bronze plates the apparatus was constructed from and felt a minor shaking. “It’s vibrating. Is it supposed to do that?”
“Yes. The stones on the side store the magic, but it also uses machinery to keep the gems operating.”
“Ingenious piece of technology!” Maarko scooted his chair closer to the Dialspeak and grazed his fingers over the soft metal.
As Osmund appeared, dragging a cart of food to the table, the cacophony of metal wheels and clanging of the wagon shattered their concentration. Elegant plates of delicious vegetables, boar meat, and pints of lager rattled and shook. “Excellent, Osmund. Thank you very much.” The boy nodded and started putting dishes in front of each person.
“Oh, this looks great! We don’t get to eat like this very often!” Thulaeth licked his lips and expected his first savory bite.
Tetathay smiled. “I hope you enjoy it.” Returning to their conversation. “Now, no one has heard from Marcrumm in over a month. Quite simply, he has disappeared.”
“Forgive me, Director. This sounds as if it is a human problem, not worthy of drow affairs. Their constabulary isn’t looking for him? Maybe he is in a wizard’s lab crafting a new sensation. Saffron picked up her pint and sipped. The ale was ice cold and shocked her taste buds with a sharp twang.
“At first, it may appear so. Our intelligence connects Mage Dial to a recent disappearance of surface drow in nearby areas over the past several months. Initially, we didn’t worry as much, but last month alone, twenty-two disappeared from a small colony near Tanych.”
“That’s where the drow we rescued in Ghaphis were from. Do you think it’s connected?” Dayne cut into his sirloin and savored the steam as it rose from the silver knife.
“Perhaps. Hopefully, the mage can answer that question when you find him.”
“You said they disappeared?” Her information left Maarko curious.
She nodded. “Except for the children you saved, the adults have vanished. According to our sources, none have appeared in the black market. They are simply gone. No signs of violence, food still on the table, livestock intact. Our investigations turned up zero.”
“Have our interrigatios talked to Mallor yet? Perhaps he knows more than he is saying.”
“They’re going to work on him soon, but for now I want you and your team on this Mage Dial.”
Dumbfounded, they looked at each other. Saffron set her fork on her plate. “So, Marcrumm is our enemy?”
“No, we don’t believe so. What we think is that he may have been an unwitting participant and associated himself with those parties who are responsible. That is why we want him back.” Tetathay cut into the meat on her dish. “Let me reiterate. We do not consider him to be a villain of the drow, so do not harm him. Bring the mage here for questioning.”
“Who was the contact who reached out to you, madame?” Dayne stirred his soup, the spoon clanging on the side of the bowl.
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Tetathay tapped the stone once more, and the image of an elderly human with a gray beard materialized in front of them. “This man, Professor Darnus Nixell, contacted me three days ago. He was both Mage Dial’s mentor and a close friend. They used to speak through Dialspeak at least once a week, but hadn’t in over a month. Initially, he assumed it was his job, which he could not discuss. Marcrumm had accepted a job with Deepwater’s Governor Belarian Cross.”
Dayne dropped his spoon into his bowl with a loud clang. “Cross?”
Tetathay showed with a nod. “Yes.” They were all aware of her anti-Drow sentiments. She had voted against allowing shadow-elves to form communities and had even attempted to prohibit them from entering any towns in her jurisdiction. Her hateful rhetoric had toned down in the last year, but she was still no friend of the drow.
“Why does this not surprise me?” Saffron spoke up. “So, we’ll talk to Professor Nixell and get more intel.”
Tetathay lowered her head. Her tone softened. “Two days ago, constables discovered he was dead in his chambers.” The image from the gem changed to the old man’s body hanging from a rope. “No note, nothing. I had sent Inspector Sylke to investigate, but with no obvious ties to our affairs, the local constabulary turned her away.” She handed Saffron a black folder filled with a stack of papers and a smooth blue stone with a glowing rune carved on it. “Inside the Recallit stone is my conversation with the Professor before he died. Hopefully, you’ll get information from it that may help you.”
“Where was he last seen, ma’am?” Saffron took a bite of her vegetables, letting the starchy texture of the potatoes linger on her tongue.
“Unsure. I have someone looking into it. You will proceed to Port Behlego. A small town that sits on the 180 and 220 Riverium lines.” She unrolled a map of Tamrien and pointed to a location in the Samhir Desert. Glowing sapphire streaks crisscrossed through the worn surface of the picture.
“Pardon. What are the blue lines?” Thulaeth glanced over at the map and ran his fingers along the lines.
“Those, Thulaeth, are Riverium Fluotha. They are ‘rivers’ of magic that flow over the planet. This is what mages used to cast their spells.” A wry grin stretched her lips. “Don’t you recall your lessons during Magical Theory?”
He shook his head. Tetathay continued. “If you notice, there are two riveriums that cross through the town. The convergence amplifies the power, so wizards go here to research new magic as they get more desirable results.”
“Director? You said that this is where it gets complicated. How so?” Saffron pushed her plate away from her and took a drink of wine from her goblet.
Tetathay stood and walked around the table. “Something has appeared in that tiny desert town. As I stated, the city sits on a convergence of riverium lines, so magic is more concentrated there. Two days ago, this popped up.” She hands them a drawn portrait of a four-foot-tall obelisk. The notes on the side indicated it’s constructed from ebon volcanic glass. Lining each edge of the device are steel “hooks” pointing upwards and the top has scrawled writing as being a crystal filled with purple gas.
“People have tried to move it, but the thing is anchored deep into the ground.”
“What is it doing there?” Dayne pushed his plate away from him.
“It isn’t doing anything right now, but I think I need you down there to examine it. My contact discovered a hidden panel near the base. A concealed drow rune revealed another trapdoor. He thinks it is some kind of lock and etched beneath the rune are the drowish letters M.D.”
“Could be our man, yeah?” Saffron studied the drawing but didn’t recognize the gentle, swooping curves that were typical of drow architecture. This was a crude, utilitarian construct with sharp corners and broad geometric shapes. Exposed cables and vents poked from each rough side of stone.
“It looks like gnome tech to me. I’ve seen a lot of their work. Even humans are better craftsmen than what that is.”
“Agreed. Visit Port Behlego, but understand this: the town is far from any drow influence. To be perfectly honest, citizens there may be standoffish. Understand, it hasn’t been long since our people struck out on the surface. Many don’t accept our ways. They find us strange and mysterious, which is understandable. The Empress reminds us daily that our goal is to set good examples to the other races and show them we are not their enemy.” She reached into a pocket, pulled out a thin piece of paper, and extended the card to Saffron, which she grabbed. “Go to ‘The Entitled Mage’ cantina. Hand this to the barkeep and have a seat. Soon, a man will come over. A human. His name is Jarl Brecchian, and he’s going to help you.” The inspector only saw a picture of a silver Warhammer.
Thulaeth spoke up, “A human? Do we really need his guidance on this matter?”
“Yes, and you’ll accept his support without contest, is that clear? He is one of few humans that I trust and he has agreed to aid you in return for information that I’ll give him. Jarl and I knew each other many years ago when he was a young Paladin. He is a noble and just man. You will treat him as you would treat me. Is this understood?”
The team nodded as they looked at one another. “Yes, Director,” Saffron spoke up. “So he’s a Paladin?”
“Used to be. He is what they call a Zeroam.”
“A Zeroam ma’am?”
“An unflattering term for a Paladin who’s been ex-communicated by his religion. He served Bray, the human god of Justice. There was an incident twenty years ago which removed him from his church. They’re called Zeroams because people consider them as a ‘Zero’, nobody. They roam, looking to get back to the church’s good graces.” Tetathay rested her elbows on the table.
“So he doesn’t carry any power, then? What use will he be?” Thulaeth felt nothing wrong with his statement, but Saffron sent him a glaring stare at his impetuous question.
Tetathay gave no notice of this. “I mentioned the church removed him, his god didn’t. He still has his gifts and is a very capable soldier. Remember, treat him like you would me.”
“Very good, ma’am. When do we leave?” Saffron stood, followed by her men.
“Tomorrow morning. An airship at Dietre Airfield will deliver you to Port Behlego to rendezvous with Jarl Brecchian.” She handed the Dialspeak to her subordinate. “Take this so you can stay in contact with me.”
“How does it work?” Saffron asked, turning the heavy crown in her hand.
Tetathay presented her with a small book. “Simple. This manual contains all the commands you’ll need. Place your thumb on the green gem and say the first command, followed by your name. This will alert the Dialspeak to the fact that you are its current user. It carries a few charges, around 100, but I believe it will be quite useful.”
“Thank you, Director.” She and her men stood up from the table. Osmund brought his cart around and cleared the dirty plates.
“Clean up, get some rest in your quarters. You’ll leave at first light.” Tetathay rose and ran her hands over her uniform. Once the others had walked away to go to their dorms, she addressed Saffron. I feel there is more going on than a missing mage.
“How so, mum?”
“It is too coincidental that the Professor died the day after he contacted me. He thought little of Governor Cross, which you and I can understand. She is the key here, but proving it will be difficult. She has many powerful allies in every government. Be cautious out there.”
“Of course. This man, Jarl. You trust him?”
A look of fondness came over the dark-skinned Director. “He has been a valuable friend to me and the drow. Even before the Reformation. He certainly has no love for politicians, I can tell you that.”
“Well then, we will treat him with respect, mum, I promise you.”
“Good.” She handed the Inspector a small travel bag. “Inside are your tickets and money. If you need anything else, reach out to me.”
“I’ll brief you as soon as we find something out.” Saffron took the packet.
“Excellent, and one more thing. Be careful. I feel as if this goes deep. Governor Cross’ involvement worries me.” She tapped the Recallit stone. “Listen to Nixell’s account and try to glean any information from it that may help you.”
The Director left Saffron alone, who sat down at the empty table. She turned the Recallit stone in her hand before placing it on her forehead. Soon, the room changed to the Director’s office, and she stared at the visage of Professor Darnus Nixell. His soft voice rang in her ears.
***
“Marcrumm Dial had not only been my student, but my friend. He and I shared the same love of magic and the intricacies that surrounded it.” The older mage stroked his long gray beard as he sat across from Director Thangalier. It amused her at how stereotypical his outfit was. Flowing silvery robes draped over his slender frame all the way to the sandals on his feet. Atop his head was a pointed hat matching his garb, except for a finely crafted silver pin attached to a white hat band.
“How long had you known the boy?” Tetathay handed him a glass of wine, which he took but did not drink.
“Twelve years, ever since he was a green lad stepping into the primary studies class. I always enjoyed getting those young children and seeing the enthusiasm on their eager faces. It reminded me why I do what I do. Kept me fresh, I suppose is what I’m trying to say.” He brought the glass to his lips and took a modest sip. “I knew when I first met him there was something special. He had a glimmer in his eye and never stopped asking questions.”
“Talk to me about what happened the last day you saw him.” She placed her hand gently upon his knee. He smiled warmly at her attempt to console him.
“I had arranged a meeting with the Cabinet at Aire Nexbridge to gain funding for his Dialspeak, which he had recently crafted. The boy is a genius, I tell you. Those old fools shut him down and hard. They told him that his device wasn’t ‘viable’ and perhaps they would revisit it in a year.”
“I bet he didn’t take that well?”
“No, not one bit. As I recall, he left the room and I heard him stomping down the hall, so I went after him while Governor Cross came with me.” Professor Nixell shifted in his chair. “He was furious and pacing the hall when we stepped out the door.”
“What did he say?”
“He looked at me and I could see it in his eyes. He said, ‘Seven bloody minutes! The cabinet gave me a whole seven minutes of their precious time before they shot me down.’ He stopped his tantrum when he saw the Governor walk out and he realized he was making an ass of himself!” He picked his wine up and took another sip. Laughing, he continued. “It was the sight of Cross that put an end to his fit, but looking at her would make any man calm himself.”
Tetathay nodded. “Yes, she is quite beautiful. What happened then?”
“Ah, he said he was sorry, and I told him to never apologize for the hard work he has done. I introduced him to the Governor and ever the gentleman, he kissed her hand. Once he had gathered his thoughts, he asked her what she thought of the Dialspeak.”
“And what was her response?”
He wagged a finger at Tetathay. A grin appeared deep within his twisted beard. “I remember it well. She told him, ‘I think it was magnificent, Marcrumm Dial.’ This made the boy light up as if he had just kissed his first girl.”
Tetathay shared his smile and compelled him to proceed. “So she wanted to fund the Dialspeak?”
He nodded. “Yeah, but more than that. She explained that she would give him money and representation if he agreed to work on a project she was working on.”
“What was it?” Her intrigue started to take over.
“I don’t think she wanted to talk about it with me there. She and Marcrumm talked about how the Cabinet were elitists and suppressing magical expression. She said that they were only interested in keeping magic for those who could afford it. I got to admit, the use of wizardry has changed a lot since I was a kid.”
“Professor, I’m going to stop you right there, because I have a question burning inside.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Why are you bringing this to me? You know I am the Director of the Drow Affairs Guild and so far, this doesn’t seem to concern us.”
He shook his finger again at her. “I’m getting to that, don’t you worry. So, she started on a rant about politics and the Kingship meetings. While I rarely care about such things, I still keep my ear to the ground and the machinations of government. I know how despondent Governor Cross is with humans and drow, so I listened to their conversation closely.”
“What did she say, about drow, I mean?”
“Cross had whispered to him, but loud enough for me to hear. I may be old, but these ears still serve. She started talking about how the humans were giving more elven lands to the shadow elves. She’s made her feelings well know about these issues in the Kingship meetings. Belarian told him she has a plan to bring magic back to the silver elves, but she needs his spell storage technology to make it work.”
“Have you spoken to the constabulary about him disappearing?”
A deep rumble came from his throat, and his beard bobbed up and down. The chair beneath him creaked as he shifted his weight. “Yeah, and they weren’t much help. They explained mages go missing all the time and they find them holed up for a year researching spells or whatnot, stinking of wine and dempa mushrooms .”
“So what makes you think that isn’t what Marcrumm is doing?”
“That boy would see me at least once a week. We’d eat lunch at Merkle’s Bistro near Aire Nexbridge. I knew something was wrong when he didn’t show up for a couple of weeks. The marshals didn’t want to help, so that is why I brought it to you. I thought if she has such a problem with human and drow alike, it would interest your Empress to look into it.”
“Thank you for bringing it to me. I’ll have my people do the legwork and figure it out. You have my word.”
“Keep me updated, please.”
“Of course.”
The recording ended, sending Saffron back to her reality. She opened her eyes and pulled the spent Recallit stone from her head and placed it on the table. Not only did this man believe that Governor Cross is plotting harm to the drow, but the Director believes it enough to send her Daggers to investigate. They would do what they do best.