The List Unseen, page 13
part #4 of Second Draeken War Series
Ianna blew out a sigh of relief and turned to Mazer. "It's fortunate your friend appeared."
"I thought we were trapped," Mazer admitted. Letting his saddlebags slide to the floor, he sank onto a plank.
Ianna joined him and stared at the opposite wall. For several minutes they remained in silence until Mazer said, "Perhaps next time you should remain outside the city."
She shook her head even though he couldn't see it. "The men at the inn said that others were combing the hills for us. I don't know if outside would have been any safer."
He grunted in reluctant agreement. "Perhaps, but we need to be more cautious. I did not expect your archmage to be so desperate."
"Neither did I," she whispered.
For some reason she felt betrayed that Sarow would want her dead almost as much as alive. It angered her to witness the lengths that he would go, but also sent a stab of fear into her stomach.
How far did his reach extend?
As if Mazer knew what she was thinking, his hand reached out to clasp hers. Gripping his calloused hand, Ianna stared into the dark. Anger, fear, and ultimately confusion warred for her attention. She scooted closer to him, drawing on his strength.
How could Sarow do this?
Chapter 16: The Dragon's Guide
Thendor soon returned and led them to a rear upstairs room of his expansive shop. Admonishing them to stay out of sight, they were forced to remain in hiding throughout the day. A number of times a rider galloped behind the shop, but each time they passed on without stopping.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, Ianna found a comfortable seat on one of the beds and delved into her farsight. Despite her efforts she was unable to make much progress. Worry and tension spiked every time an untoward sound occurred, and she finally gave up. Long after nightfall Thendor returned with food and information. As they ate, he talked.
"The city is crawlin' with treasure seekers—and not just from West. Soldiers from the forts and East came in this afternoon. Apparently the word got out that the Oracle is hiding in the city and beggin' to be found." He snorted in disapproval. "It doesn't help that the bounty has been exaggerated. By some accounts it's a lifetime of wealth and a small castle. Not to be outdone, some o' the fort captains have offered an extra reward if one of their men is credited with the capture."
"What should we do?" Mazer asked, tearing off a piece of the dark bread he'd brought.
Thendor shrugged. "I would put the city behind you. In the state of things I wouldn't put it past 'em to begin searching homes. I'd crack the skull of the first one to enter me shop, but I'm not sure it would stop 'em. They're out for blood." He fingered his well-kept beard and shook his head.
"Any chance the sewers connect to one of the forts? Ianna asked. "We need to get into the northern deserts."
"Well," Thendor said, his eyes widening, "that might change things. Everyone be expectin' you to grab a horse and bolt. If you went north I doubt they'd follow for long. Typical steeds are ill suited for the deserts anyway." He nodded slowly. "I can get you to the Third fort, and I've heard the sewers have an outlet or two on the other side. If they didn't the spring runoff would flood the castles."
Ianna and Mazer exchanged a glance, and then nodded in unison. An hour later they were back in the sewers under the city. Twisting and winding, Thendor led them north. Gradually the frequency of side tunnels diminished as they left the city behind. At the same time the tunnel began to slope upward.
An hour later the side tunnels appeared again, indicating they had reached the edge of the fort. Producing another key, Thendor unlocked a gate and led them onward. True to the dwarf's word, the sewers were unguarded.
As they walked in silence Ianna marveled at the foundations around her. Massive stones interlocked to form the base for the walls above. Rather than the twisting and dirty tunnels of West, the castle's sewers were remarkably clean and straight.
Their path lit by Ianna's magic they crossed under the citadel until they reached the northern side. After some searching they found a grate that could be removed to allow egress. Barely large enough for a single person, it had obviously been protected by sound magic in case of attempts to breach it. Thendor sent a blast of flame into the inanimate sentry and it crumpled to dust. A moment later their way was clear.
"Thank you for all the help, Thendor," Mazer said, ducking into the gap. "I owe you a mug."
"I saved your skins," The dwarf snorted. "You owe me more than that."
Ianna hid a smile as Mazer grinned. "Fine. I owe you a night's drink."
The dwarf's chuckle implied that was more than Mazer could afford, but he bobbed his head. "Agreed. Now get this pretty elf out before someone tries to kill her."
"Thank you, good dwarf," Ianna said, and kissed him on the cheek.
The dwarf flushed bright red under his beard. "Oy, get on with ya," he muttered.
Ianna wormed her way through the gap and then accepted the packs that Thendor had loaned them. A small squeak was the only sound as the grate closed behind them. Then a click indicated it had been locked.
"Good luck to you, smith," the dwarf whispered. "And to you, elf." Then he was gone.
Ianna threw a look up at the wall rising a half-mile south of their position. Fashioned from the granite foothills nearby, its white sheen reflected the moonlight. Pinpricks of light dotted the top, indicating its watchful occupants. Feeling like she'd just escaped a noose tightening around her neck, she turned back to Mazer with a faint smile.
"Let's go find ourselves a tigron."
***
Ianna reached out to the great animal at her side. In response to her touch, the enormous white tigron shifted closer to her, giving a low cough of pleasure. Larger and faster than a horse, tigrons were greatly feared for their ferocity—and greatly valued for their pelts. Striped like their smaller cousins the massive cats were renowned for the warmth and patterns of their skins.
Despite that, few were brave enough to hunt one. No doubt this was due to the small number that returned from such attempts.
"I still can't believe she is a friend," Mazer said.
"Tigrons are smarter than most realize," she replied. "And Tigraes knows how to recognize an ally."
"Because you healed her."
She grinned at him. "Arrowheads are hard to remove with paws." Tigraes growled at her words and bared her teeth, so Ianna added, "and painful. She doesn't understand why the great trolls hunt her kind."
"Because they are fools," Mazer laughed. "Anyone who tries to slay such a deadly—and beautiful—creature is a fool." The great striped head turned to face Mazer, causing him to shuffle his feet and shrug. "It's true."
Ianna gave a satisfied laugh and patted the cat's flank one last time. "I wish we didn't have to leave."
"I know," Mazer said, glancing at the dark sky. "But the first snows in the north come early, and we have to move on. Are you certain she will help them?"
The tigron's snarl sounded like a challenge, but it only made Mazer laugh. "Like I said, beautiful and deadly."
"Goodbye Tigraes," Ianna murmured. "Help my daughter as I have helped you."
The fearsome animal coughed and turned away, heading north. Ianna stood by Mazer with mixed feelings. Throughout the last week as they had sought and healed the tigron, it had felt almost peaceful. Although they had escaped West over three weeks ago, the memory of it was still fresh in her mind. If they hadn't have been aided by Thendor she might have had to kill again.
She recalled the bandit's attempt to take her—and the bodies they had left behind. It made her wonder when the last time an oracle had taken a life, and she considered finding out in the Book of Oracles. Then she decided she didn't want to know.
As the great striped cat disappeared in the distance she sighed and turned southwest with Mazer. With several days’ journey ahead of them she settled into an easy stride through the tundra, grateful that her feet didn't hurt as much as before.
"How are your feet?" Mazer asked, eliciting a laugh.
"Better. I healed the blisters, but the skin is still tender. I don't think I have ever walked so much. Without the better boots from the weaver's shop I don't know if I would have made it this far. I was still sad to discard my old ones though. They were a gift from Siarra."
He grimaced. "I am sorry we had to leave them, but they wouldn't have lasted out here. Besides, those are quite fetching on you." He grunted a laugh and withdrew a roll of parchment from his pack. Crossing off number four he asked, "So we move on to Five, Unleash the Peace in War. You mentioned it had to do with the rock trolls?"
She nodded, to which he raised an eyebrow. "When is a rock troll ever peaceful?"
"We have to find one who can be."
"That doesn't make sense."
She shrugged. "Draeken has a general that is the essence of war. We have to find his opposite."
"So you don't know who it is?"
She shook her head. "As I've told you, my farsight has limitations, and this is one of them. So far we have been fortunate in discovering the details of the other tasks. On this task all I have been able to divine is that if Draeken's general is not stopped . . ." she shrugged again. "From what I have seen, only a supreme rock troll will stand a chance."
"So you are guessing."
She flinched. "Some. A rock troll is the only one capable of fighting what I have seen. A giant might be strong enough, but they don't have a fraction of a rock troll's skill. Even then I don't know if one could do it." She shuddered at the image of War. Against such a foe victory did not mean survival.
"So we must find a fighter that stands out among the greatest warrior race in Lumineia?"
"If we can."
Mazer fell silent, his expression thoughtful. After a few miles he asked, "What can you tell me about Draeken? The myths talk of him being a demigod of sorts, is that true?"
"No," she hesitated, wondering how much to reveal. Much of Draeken's past was contained in the book passed from oracle to oracle, and had never been shared outside of that line. She cringed against the idea of lying again to Mazer, but there were some things that only an oracle was meant to know.
"Draeken's origin is shrouded in mystery," she said, deciding on a half truth. "But he can be traced to the Age of Oracles."
"And the Verinai?"
"From what I have read he was one of the last—but I believe he was not born during the war."
"So who were his parents?"
Stepping over a rodent's hole, she answered honestly, "The histories were not as well recorded then, and I doubt any but him could answer that question."
"And the Eldress council couldn't stop him?"
"All but one of the council was dead by then."
His expression asked for more, so she settled in to explain. "Sometime around fifteen thousand years ago there were five oracles, not one. Together, they formed a governing council that controlled all mages, including the guild of Verinai. This continued until the betrayer sought to gain power."
"One of the oracles," he said, "You have mentioned her before."
She nodded. "As I said, the betrayer enlisted the aid of the Verinai, and what followed was the first great mage war. Tens of thousands perished in the attempt to destroy Verisith, and in the end only one oracle bloodline remained. Few mages were left with multiple talents, and even fewer were born after. Sarow is the third I have known in my lifetime."
"Who was the betrayer?" Mazer asked.
"No one knows," Ianna replied honestly. "That part of the history . . . is lost." She frowned to herself. It was too easy to share with Mazer, and to reveal the existence of the Book of Oracles was unthinkable. Not for the first time she wondered who had removed that part of the book.
"So how did that lead to the first Draeken War? And how could he have survived so long?"
Grateful that the topic had shifted to more common knowledge, she said, "The second answer is easier than the first. The dragon's sleep would have allowed him to live for many lifetimes. As to the first question, I am not sure what led him to create the fiends, I just know that he did."
"But where do they come from?" Mazer asked, puzzled. "From what you have described they are not from our natural world."
"I am aware of several theories about that, but none merit any credence. The only one that seems remotely plausible is the idea that Draeken created a few fiends, and then let them generate the rest. Because they are born of magic, I believe that if one was fed energy it would divide into two creatures. If the army was fed enough power . . ." she shrugged.
"That would explain why he delayed before the first war," Mazer said, scratching the stubble on his chin. "He needed to let his troops multiply. It also answers why he chose Xshaltheria as his lair. With the volcano beneath it there would be an almost limitless source of natural energy."
Ianna cocked her head to the side. "I admit that had not occurred to me."
"So why—and how—was he imprisoned? Surely it wasn't Ero himself the way the legend speaks."
"No, I don't believe so." She paused, considering how much to reveal. Again she chose a partial truth, and it surprised her that she still felt guilty in doing so. "It is my understanding that leading up to his first invasion Draeken left his home for the first time. It soon became apparent that he was searching for artifacts from which he could fashion his generals.
"All of these items were guarded by the various kingdoms, so when they were stolen patrols were sent to find the thief. Many heroes of renown accepted the contract, not knowing who they sought. None returned.
"When the third artifact was taken the kings began to realize something more was happening, and they selected a man to lead the hunt. Cunning and strong, he first recruited the aid of an elven Seeker—"
"Like the one that pursues us?"
She nodded. "From the history he was an archer without equal. Then the man added a member from almost every race, including the rock trolls, orcs, and gnomes. Some were mages, others were warriors, and one was even a thief. Once united, they sought to discover who was stealing the artifacts. I don't believe that they knew it was the Lord of Chaos until later.
"For months they tracked him as he continued to steal powerful items. They overtook him twice, and each time Draeken escaped. Then they caught him stealing a giant's war helmet."
She shuddered, imagining what Draeken had done to the rock troll in that battle, what he had turned him into. "They failed again," she said, "and several of their party were killed."
"So then how did they trap Draeken?"
"As to that I cannot say. I can recall a single reference that refers to the end of that pursuit. It mentioned that the man was crafty, and he outsmarted Draeken. Whatever he did, it wasn't enough. Bound as Draeken was he still found a way to unleash his army. The First Draeken War was the result."
"That isn't much to go on," Mazer said, disappointment etched on his features.
She laughed at his expression. "It was a long time ago, and little remains of the tale. Albeit based in truth, much of what I said is still theory."
Mazer grunted and fell silent, considering what she'd divulged. Ianna let the conversation lapse. She wished that she could reveal more. It annoyed her that there were so many truths that could cause damage if they were shared. The nature of how Draeken had created the fiends and their generals would cause unimaginable havoc if they fell into the wrong hands.
Some truths must not be forgotten, yet guarded with the utmost caution, her mother's voice echoed in her head. She frowned to herself, recalling her teachings. It made Ianna wonder how she would have dealt with the knowledge of impending extinction.
For the next several hours Ianna and Mazer spoke little as the terrain gave way from tundra to plains and desert. Dirt turned to rolling rock underfoot, and scattered towers of stone stood like sentinels against the wind. They had left the storm behind but now the sun baked the earth, unblocked by clouds.
Ianna wiped the sweat from her brow and paused to catch her breath under an overhang of rock. "How much further?" she asked, taking a swallow of water.
"Astaroth should be a couple of days from here." He shaded his eyes to look at the sun. "And it's likely due west of here." He accepted the water skin from her and took a long pull. Making a face at the tepid liquid, he said, "I have never been on this side of it though, so I could be wrong."
Three days later it turned out he was correct. Camping where they could, they had worked their way through the harsh terrain until they spotted a towering rock formation in the distance. They slowed their approach as they neared and began to work their way around it.
As they dropped into a dry riverbed Mazer asked, "Any new insights on who we are searching for?"
"I'm not sure," Ianna admitted. "But I think I will know him when I see him."
Mazer pulled up short. "The rock trolls don't allow outsiders into Astaroth except as prisoners—and they rarely take prisoners. Are we going to wait outside and see if the right one comes out?"
She shook her head, considering the best course of action. Then she felt a tremor in her senses. Blinking at the sudden cascade of magic in the air, she reached out to touch it.
"What are—"
"Sh," Ianna said, "magic is being used nearby—a lot of magic."
Mazer had his sword out in an instant. Then he took a step up the slope to peer over the edge. "I don't see anything," he murmured.
Ianna ignored him and focused her magical senses on the environment. For his benefit she voiced what she felt, keeping her tone low so it wouldn't carry. "It's wind, mostly, but sand as well." Then she caught a sliver of darker energy. "And anti-magic," she said, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Gnomes," Mazer said, frowning. "It's the only magic they use, but it can be powerful."
"What would they be doing near Astaroth?" Ianna asked. "Don't they live a week's journey west of it?"
Mazer nodded and returned to her side. "They must have come from Ryazan, and if there are gnomes, there will be orcs—and lots of them. Can you sense how many, and which direction they are in?"
