Between the Lines, page 12
The Ashborn entered, their golden plumage tinged with red on the tips. They didn’t move to sit on the stove or even farther away from the door. The wood around them creaked. “Time is dwindling and, lo, I have come here directly on important business with you, young one. Have you found my Blackstone?”
So much for privacy. She moved from the open door, hoping the Ashborn would follow. “As of right now, no,” Fiona said, eyebrows furrowed. It had only been a day since she had gotten the job in the first place. “I have talked with the salamanders. They directed me to the elementals. I am working to find who stole it so I can—”
“I am not looking for who stole it,” said the Ashborn, flipping their wing, a blur of rust and copper flickering together as they spoke. “They can be dealt with later. But the Blackstone must be reclaimed as soon as possible.”
That had to mean they already knew who the thief was. It must’ve been a salamander, flarion, or ragnis then. “What is this Blackstone for?” Fiona said shortly. It had sounded like a valuable trinket yesterday, but their reappearing so soon made it feel like much more.
“For? It is a relic of our page. Nothing more needs to be said upon the subject.” The Ashborn fluffed their feathers, making themself bigger. “And furthermore, you have not attained sufficient rank or favor to be questioning me. You are to find out where it is at all due cost and with the utmost urgency and bring it back to me. Focus on that.”
Fiona raised an eyebrow at the Ashborn’s ruffled feathers and irritated tone. Struck a nerve, did I? “Of course, Your Eminence. Please forgive my questioning you. It is appropriate in my line of work.”
“Find others to question then, I do suggest.”
“As you say,” said Fiona and then immediately, “but why do you need the Blackstone back so soon? You gave me a week’s time.”
“The sooner it is in its rightful place, the sooner I can begin to put Blaze in order so we can, as one, face our catastrophe.”
“And what would be its rightful place?”
“With me. I am responsible for—” the Ashborn stopped. While the light from the phoenix stilled, their shadow did not.
Fiona focused on the shadows. They danced around them as if they were a part of the creature, illuminating some internal struggle of theirs. “You’re responsible for the Blackstone?” she prodded.
“And more,” the Ashborn finished their uncharacteristically short sentence.
The Elder’s words clambered up from the back of her mind. She watched the Ashborn carefully. “And you are the rightful owner?”
The phoenix narrowed its beady copper eyes. “Are you questioning the domain of my power?”
The room warmed but Fiona didn’t wince. She wouldn’t be intimidated by a show of fire. “Of course not, Your Eminence. Merely wondering where the artifact’s ownership lies so that I can physically assess the site for clues. But only by your permission, naturally.” She could gain a lot from being around the Ashborn at the site of the theft.
“Naturally,” the Ashborn nodded. “Come to me on the morrow and you can search for your clues in the sanctuary of my people at Radiance Peak. I take my leave of you now.”
Before Fiona could reply, they exited the house toward a lone floating shapeless fire elemental waiting for them on the street again. Mistress Didia waved from across the street, eyes round like saucers. Fiona sighed and gave a small wave back before closing the door and leaning against it. She’d really have to invest in somewhere less flammable to entertain guests.
The Ashborn was clearly hiding something. If getting the Blackstone back was such a pressing matter to them that they would show up twice in Spine in a matter of days, there must be some sort of countdown that they need it for. If the Blackstone could somehow help them face the dying of Blaze, it must be powerful indeed. She palmed her face and trudged to the desk, thinking.
“Soots,” she called out.
They came bobbing out of the candle :Friend.: They stopped in front of the window, the glass reflecting the little sprite’s glow.
“Yes, though I’m curious why they’re not telling us everything about the Blackstone.” She looked at Soots, watching the floating fire elemental closely. “Are you a flarion? The salamanders called you such, but I’ve only seen your kind from a distance.”
:Soots,: they said adamantly.
“Okay, okay, you’re Soots. I am sorry to have questioned you.” Fiona threw up her hands, muttering under her breath about hot headed elementals, and made her way upstairs. She needed to talk to the elementals to see if it was a waste of time, a diversion, or a true lead.
She thought she might as well prepare for a full day in Blaze tomorrow. She could do some research at the library before making her way. Getting lost in the hot page was not her idea of a fun day. She would need quite a few breathing potions for the time. She wished, not for the first time, she could find a source that allowed her to breathe in all of the pages.
Fiona stopped on the stairs, placing her hand on the wall. Of course, that was it. The Blackstone had to be a source for Blaze. Something that kept the fire going. Otherwise why would the Ashborn be so focused on it in the midst of their page dying? But why wouldn’t they go to the Guild, who certainly had more resources to find it than she did?
She had been too distracted by the break-in to coax more information out of the Ashborn. She needed to find someone who she could trust from Blaze to tell her what was really going on so she could poke her nose in the right direction.
Fiona smiled realizing she had at least one ally there. Perhaps her new friend Rockcruncher had a little more knowledge about the dynamics of the denizens and could give her a better picture. She would focus on the bigger issue of the Blackstone and deal with skulking priests later.
The next morning Fiona and Soots quickly stopped at Gaili’s for more jelly breaths. Prepared to be disappointed by low stock, Fiona was pleasantly surprised that Gaili not only had a batch just for her but also wanted her to try a new concoction. The faun had stayed up all night making it from her Mistral purchases and was practically asleep on her feet.
Fiona didn’t know why the faun overworked herself so, but she made a note to invite her over for dinner later and poke her about it. Not out of judgment of course—who was she to judge someone who worked as much as herself—but she was interested if it had something to do with her previous mentor.
Leaving the artisan district, Fiona and Soots made their way to Fire Bowl. It was a fortified area next to the artisans. There were no fences that guarded it or hills that shielded it. The entire district was located within obsidian rock that resembled an upside-down bowl from a distance. The crust of Spine was too dense for the digging required to place a hot top, as the salamanders called the heavy flat rock they preferred. Though they did give it a good try. So instead they crafted a sphere of obsidian and placed their homes within it.
It was almost impossible to get to the top entrance without flying or crawling up the side. Only the citizens of the district used that entrance.
A small trail of lava had poured out of the top entrance of Fire Bowl for decades now. It was why the artisan district was built so close to it. Now, that was dried up as much as Blaze.
When they arrived, Fiona took a moment to prepare herself. She put on her fireproof equipment, sprayed herself down with her remaining mist, and popped on her thin, snug glasses. She hoped to catch Rockcruncher at a good time of day. Once her gear was on, she went to the ebony rock entrance of the bowl that faced the artisan district. From a distance it was impossible to see if there even was an at-ground entrance. Up close the outline of the inset door was barely visible. Without experience one could miss it entirely. Fiona pulled on the warm, heavy iron door knocker, the sound hammering against the stone door. She heard no reply.
Soots bobbed beside her in their metallic suit, softly clinking, the rays from within making dappled amber lines on the volcanic rock. Soots swirled around her, and she turned about to tell them not to run off when she noticed a dark shadow move from one of the buildings toward them. She couldn’t tell if it was humanoid, the morning light making it hard to pinpoint features. She squinted and took a step forward to get a better look.
A thud sounded behind her and she whirled around to see a rectangular slit open in the door. Two beady gray smoke-filled eyes pierced the dark slot. A waft of noxious gas eked out as a raspy voice said in Claire, “Who you?”
She turned her attention to the door, momentarily forgetting the shadow. “I’m a visitor.”
“You don’t look like a visitor.”
Fiona bit back a sigh and tried to speak clearer in the crackling language. “I’m a friend of a salamander who lives here.” Fiona covered her nose with her scarf to talk through it as a filter. Jelly breath didn’t do anything to oppose the fumes coming off of this creature.
The stone slit shut, and Fiona waited a minute as the keeper of the door opened it. She looked back across the way, but the shadow was gone. She shook her head, feeling muddled in the brain, and rocked on her slippers impatiently.
The stone gate slid to the side and a wave of heat escaped out the door as Fiona and Soots made their way inside. A miasmit sat on a stool within the gate, seemingly in charge of the door. The smell wafting off it combined with the heat was almost enough to make Fiona rethink looking for Rockcruncher near his home instead of sending a message asking him to visit her. But thoughts of her manor house catching fire seemed worse, so she pressed on.
“Thank you,” said Fiona, ever pleasant. Her eyes pricked with tears at the noxious stench, and instead of asking for directions, she hurried on deeper into the darkened district. The fact that the glasses didn’t protect from the miasmit was duly noted.
There was some order to Fire Bowl in that there appeared to be cleared lanes for foot travel. But that was pretty much it. A flarion, their amorphous shape only outlined by the inky ichor flowing through their body, darted in the dark down the path. Fiona hurriedly called out in Claire, “Excuse me. I’m looking for a Spine Rockcruncher. Salamander?”
The elemental stopped, their flickering flames casting soft burnt orange light on their initial surroundings. “Hot rocks. Two paths down, hang a left at the pool of lava. Number six. Ya can’t miss it.”
Fiona nodded her thanks and turned to move on, but the elemental addressed Soots: “You’re a tiny bit, aren’t you? You come here often?”
:No,: they said, fire crackling as they spoke.
The elemental stopped. Fiona tried to understand what they could possibly be thinking. Having no expressions to go off of, she said, “The flame sprite is with me. They’re alright.”
“Yes, well…” The elemental trailed off, hesitating. “Um...be seeing ya.” And they floated away.
Fiona bit back a smile. “Soots, I do believe you’re a conundrum to everyone we meet. I’m not sure if that’s because you’re hanging out with me or something else.”
:Friend,: said Soots, amusement spilling out with the word.
“Oh, so you’re blaming me. Very well. I have a thick skin either way,” Fiona said with a small laugh.
They came upon a street filled with flat rock homes similar to those found in Westtree. Fiona looked for number six and knocked on the stone arch outside it. Seeing that she made absolutely no noise, she said loudly into the arch, “Rockcruncher? It’s me, Fiona. Sorry to show up so abruptly.”
Fiona heard a bumping in the house. A wide-eyed Rockcruncher popped his head out of an open window. He licked one of his eyes with his long purple tongue. “Fiona?”
“Yes, sorry to bash right in, but I wanted to ask you some questions about Blaze. Thought maybe you could help.”
“Oh, right. Come on in.”
She had to bend to get all the way through the open archway. The ceiling of the hut was lower than she was. Soots bobbed in behind her and settled down on a stone table in the middle of the room. A few rock stools low to the ground surrounded it. On the opposite side was another open archway, but the dwelling was sparse. How often did Rockcruncher stay here really? He probably spent as much time as he could in his pre-inking city, by the looks of things.
Fiona perched on one delicately, making sure to keep the fireproof cloak between any of her fleshy parts and the warm stone.
Rockcruncher padded over from the window and sat opposite Fiona. He eyed the flame sprite. “Is this a flarion?”
“This is Soots. A friend of mine,” Fiona said, avoiding the questions.
The salamander nodded and then ignored them. “You said you need help?”
“Well, I need a few answers about Blaze from someone who is direct. You seem very direct. And you clearly know when to hustle someone.”
Rockcruncher licked his eye. “Hustle?”
Fiona tried again trying to be clearer in her translations. “Yes, you covered my escape the other day. Why did you do that?”
“The council can be a bit shortsighted. I didn’t think putting you in jail was the best outcome for any of us.”
“Well, you definitely helped save my life. I couldn’t breathe there much longer. I owe you for that,” she said, rubbing her gloved hand on the warm stone table. Her options had been rather limited, and she was grateful for him being there.
“It was nothing.” Rockcruncher shrugged.
“It was most definitely not nothing,” Fiona said firmly. If there was a moment Fiona didn’t mince words, it was when she believed something to be true and needed others to believe it as well.
There was a brief pause before Rockcruncher broke eye contact from Fiona. He nodded. “What questions do you have?”
“What is Obsidian’s Tooth?” Fiona rocked back on her stool.
“Skinny twin spires. They pierce through all the layers.”
“Hmm,” Fiona murmured. So there were towers in Blaze. She tried to remember if she had ever seen anything like them there, but they must’ve been on the other side of the volcano. “Can you sketch me a map? Of where Obsidian’s Tooth sits? And its relation to Radiance Peak?”
Crunchers tail thumped on the ground. “Well, sure. But I wouldn’t go there.”
“Why’s that?”
“The towers”—he started outlining them with his hands—“they’re full of fire.”
“I should be a bit protected.” Fiona motioned to her apparel. “But I’ll keep my time there short. I’m curious about the relationships in Blaze. I know some of the salamanders often fight with the elementals. How far does that go?”
“There’s almost never any actual fighting.”
“What?” Fiona said a little too loudly, causing Soots to jump. She was fairly certain she had heard of battles from history lessons. Of many, many fights. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we prepare for fighting. And we build things for the fights. The council tells us what to do and we do it. We travel and scout and generally insult the elementals. But more often than not, attacking each other never actually happens. Maybe it did before the inking, but it hasn’t since. Other things occupy us.” Rockcruncher said, “Between Arden’s Rock and their realm, Iasheoxus…” He shrugged his shoulders “There’s not a good translation for it in your tongue. But there are things that distract salamanders from arriving.”
“Such as the forest?” said Fiona.
“For one. Food for always. The forest used to hold an abundance of food for the salamanders.”
“And now the food is all dying out with Blaze.”
“And we may actually have to fight the elementals. The council is excited, but the feeling is split among the rest of us. Some of us don’t want to fight in a real battle. You can see why it’s an issue that the Guild hasn’t stepped in.”
Fiona nodded. No wonder the council was giddy about the flarions and ragnis being no more. It wasn’t Blaze dying they were thinking of but fighting them. Absolute blotters, the four of them. She sighed. “Speaking of the Travel Guild, I did talk to my contact, but—”
“But they don’t care that the page is dying out,” Rockcruncher said, looking away from Fiona.
She reached out and placed her gloved hand on his, hoping he understood. “To a point, yes. Have you considered that they might be the cause of it?”
He shook his head. “Why would the Guild kill Blaze?”
“If it becomes more inhabitable, the Guild can profit from increased travel, set up cities, take over.”
He sat there, head lowered. Fiona moved her hand back, unsure of what to say. She didn’t want the Guild to be the enemy, maybe. But with the news that they were part of a smuggling ring and hadn’t moved to help out Blaze, they seemed destined to be. All signs pointed to it.
Standing up, Rockcruncher thumped the table with his hand. “Drown the Guild in lava. We’ll figure this out for ourselves.” His eyes met Fiona’s, and he said quickly with a little less surety, “If you’ll help us?”
“Absolutely.” Fiona grinned. “And on that topic, I might have a lead. Or a suspicion. Do you know much about the Blackstone that I was speaking to your clan council about?”
“Not more than I heard in the chambers.”
“I’ve been hired to retrieve it, but the Ashborn is holding back information. What can you tell me about them? Not the stories but from a native’s perspective?”
“Well,” Rockcruncher started, “the Ashborn has always been more of an idea than a being we see a lot. They stay above in the A’shar layer for the most part. Some salamanders do make a journey to the Ashborn, though, and stay there.”
“Why would that be?” It was a bit unimaginable that any of the salamanders she had met the other day would think beyond where they lived.
“Peace,” Rockcruncher said simply. “They promise them peace. The elementals fight among themselves over land. We fight over food. The Ashborn has a whole realm far away from all that. So they can offer peace that you can’t find living on the cap.”
