Tears of Liscor, page 32
part #9 of The Wandering Inn Series
“Tales like what?”
“Oh, of the sky of course! Wyverns and local birds aside, there are legends up there. Birds that hide behind clouds, special ones that only come out when the rainbows shine! Birds that can go higher than the tallest mountain, so high up they have to hold their breaths and fly with magic because the air’s too thin! And yes—even birds that live in the water. Some you have to fight, but others just…appear.”
“Appear? Like what?”
“Like, okay, there was this story I heard of a Garuda who got lost and found himself flying over the sea. He had no idea where land was, and he was flying in circles, lower and lower, thinking he was going to fall and drown. And then he saw the air move and realized that there was something flying right beneath him! He looked down and saw something flash by. It went by so fast that he never saw it, but the slipstream dragged him for over ten miles, back towards the land!”
Bird sat transfixed, staring at Bevussa. He glanced out a window towards the rainy sky.
“Was it a bird?”
Bevussa nodded.
“Apparently. He swears it was twice as large as he was and had red slashes on its wings and a white body. And he’s not the only one who’s seen it. Apparently, this bird travels around Chandrar, and there was a time when a bunch of Wistram Mages came to see if they could capture it. Hah, well, they didn’t get the attention of that bird, but they did manage to piss off one of the leviathans of the sky…”
She began talking. Telling Bird stories, some real, some made up, all told to her during her childhood and as she’d swapped tales as adventurers. It was strange. Bevussa had never met anyone else on the ground who loved tales of the sky as she did, but in Bird, she found a greater fascination than even she had.
The Worker practically leaned over the table, drinking in every word she spoke. And when Bevussa’s throat ran dry, there was Erin at last with a dark lager and several bruises. Bevussa spoke for minutes and then nearly two hours before she had to sit back.
“Whew.”
“And? And? What bird is next?”
Bird bounced excitedly in his chair. Bevussa looked around. Erin was cleaning up her mess behind the counter. The Garuda coughed. Her mug was long empty.
“I’m a bit tired, Bird. Maybe let’s hold off on more stories? Hey Erin, can I get a refill?”
She waved her mug. Erin turned.
“Coming! Damn, where did I put the lager barrel? Uh oh, I’m getting déjà vu!”
Bird looked crestfallen. Bevussa felt bad, but she told herself not to fall for the Antinium’s disappointment. That was how he’d gotten the last fifteen tales out of her.
“I can always tell you a story later, Bird. And I’m sure the other adventurers have a few tales.”
“But you are an expert.”
“Because I have wings? Well, yeah—”
“No, because you are a bird.”
Bevussa paused. She stared at Bird and checked out her blue and green plumage.
“Well, I guess if you want to be technical about it, Garuda are bird people. But, uh…we’re not birds.”
It was actually a sore point with Bevussa. She’d been teased growing up, and her species as a whole got too many bad bird jokes to count. No Garuda liked being called a bird. But Bird the Worker only cocked his head.
“But Miss Bevussa, you have wings.”
“Yeah.”
“And you fly.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Does that not make you a bird?”
Bevussa’s eyelid twitched. She took a few breaths.
“There’s more to flying and wings, Bird. Or rather, there’s a difference between—look, Garuda aren’t birds. We’re people! We’re not birds, just like a bat isn’t a bird.”
The Antinium digested that for a moment.
“Bats aren’t birds?”
“No!”
“Why not? They have wings. And they fly.”
“Yeah, but—what about the moths?”
“The moth-birds?”
Bevussa stared at Bird. He stared back with purest certainty in his eyes. Bevussa scrubbed a talon through her feathers and then looked at Erin.
“Make that two lagers, Erin!”
“You got it! I think. It’ll be there eventually!”
“Great.”
Bevussa turned back to Bird, shaking her head. Erin was a good [Innkeeper]—probably the best one around Liscor, although she’d be in trouble if she moved to Pallass and ran up against some of the good ones there. Still, she was friendly, helpful, and she had a magic door. But her knowledge of alcohol was distressing. She looked at Bird.
“You want anything? It’s my treat.”
“No, I am fine, thank you.”
Bird shook his head. As he did, he shifted, and Bevussa saw that he was still holding all of the goose feathers in his four hands. She had to point at them.
“Are you still holding those? What are they for, anyways?”
“For trading. I thought I could trade them.”
“To who?”
Bird pointed at Bevussa.
“You.”
The Garuda paused.
“For what?”
“Feathers.”
“Feath—”
And then Bevussa realized what Bird meant. She stared at her brilliant feathers and then looked at the broken and worn feathers he held. She wanted to laugh. But then she noticed how Bird looked at her feathers.
“You really like my feathers that much?”
“They are beautiful. I would trade all my pillows for one feather.”
Bird stared at Bevussa’s feathers. The Garuda preened a bit. She couldn’t help it. She hesitated and then did something she’d never done, even for the rare Drakes she’d dated.
“I don’t think I need all your feathers, Bird. But I would be willing to trade one feather for all the ones you’re holding.”
“You would?”
The Antinium looked at Bevussa. She nodded, seeing the shining light in his gaze. Slowly, Bevussa reached for a stray feather she knew she’d lose soon. She winced a bit as she plucked it, but then handed it to Bird.
It was slightly bent and not in good shape. But Bird instantly let go of the feathers in his hands and pushed them towards Bevussa. He reached out and, with trembling hands, accepted the feather. He held it up and stared at it. Bevussa smiled.
“Do you like it?”
“It is wonderful.”
That was all Bird said. He held the feather up, staring at it. Bevussa grinned.
“It’s yours. Think of it as a memento. From one lover of the skies to another. Keep your other feathers. I, uh, don’t want them.”
Bird looked up. He looked at Bevussa and then bowed his head.
“I will treasure it forever.”
And that was the magic of Bird. Bevussa had no doubt he would. She turned as Erin approached with two tankards in hand.
“What’s that? Oh—Bird, did you ask Bevussa for a feather? Bevussa, you didn’t have to give it to him!”
“I decided to, don’t worry, Erin.”
Bird protectively covered his feather as Erin sighed and put down the tankards on the table.
“Thank you for telling Bird all those stories. I’m sorry Jelaqua hasn’t appeared yet. I think she’s ogling dead Raskghar or something.”
The Garuda coughed and waved a talon.
“It’s no problem. I actually really enjoyed myself. And speaking of which—”
She’d heard someone coming towards Erin’s regular door outside. Bevussa turned expectantly, and both Bird and Erin looked over. The door opened, and Relc stepped through.
“Hey everyone! I’ve got my day off at last! Anyone got any food?”
“Oh.”
Bevussa sighed. Erin smiled, and Bird turned back to his feather. Relc looked slightly hurt as he wandered over.
“Hey, it’s me!”
“Hi, Relc!”
Erin smiled at the Drake. He grinned.
“How’s it going? Hey, is that, uh…Bird? And you’re—hey Miss, don’t I know you?”
The Drake grinned at Bevussa. The Gold-rank adventurer gave him a polite smile. Relc looked at Bevussa and then at Bird. His eyes widened.
“Hold on. This is the crazy one. And she’s—”
He pulled at Erin’s shoulder as she went to get him a drink. Bevussa frowned as Bird studied her feather. She could hear Relc whispering loudly to Erin as he pointed at her and Bird.
“Is that safe? Isn’t he like, y’know—”
Relc tapped the side of his head. Erin smacked his arm down.
“Don’t be a jerk! He’s just Bird!”
“Yeah, but what does that mean?”
“What’s wrong with you meeting me, Bird?”
Bevussa looked at Bird. The Worker looked up.
“Miss Erin told me I am not allowed to bring my bow when I am around you. She says that if I hit you, I will be in big trouble forever. I cannot shoot at any of the Drakes either.”
“Hit us? Why would you—oh. They think you’ll shoot me because I’ve got wings! Because…I’m a bird? Oh, come on!”
Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. Bevussa smacked her head, then wondered if Erin and the others were really that racist. Then again—she glanced at Bird and realized their fears were well founded. The Antinium nodded.
“You have wings. And you fly. Thus you are a bird. But Erin has explained to me why I am not supposed to shoot you, so I will not. Unless you want me to?”
He glanced at Bevussa. The Gold-rank adventurer idly wondered what would happen if she said yes. It could be funny. Then she recalled the image of Bird sitting with a dozen dead monsters lying around him, feathered with arrows. She sat up and looked Bird in the eye very deliberately.
“I would not like you to, Bird. Ever.”
“Okay, Miss Bevussa.”
“Glad we got that straightened out.”
Bevussa breathed a sigh of relief. Then she had another thought. She glanced at Bird and smiled.
“I get the worry, but I can dodge arrows just fine. Even Halrac would have trouble hitting me on the wing. Anyways, you’re an ant-man. Technically, you should be worried about me.”
Bird paused. He looked confused.
“Why would I worry about you, Miss Bevussa?”
The Garuda smiled.
“Well, I’m a bird. And you’re…an ant.”
“I am not an ant. I am an Antinium.”
“But you have a carapace.”
“Yes. But I am not an ant.”
“But you walk around.”
“Yes, but I am not an ant.”
“Are you sure? Ants walk around and they have carapaces. And just so you know…I have been known to snack on ants.”
Bird froze. He stared at Bevussa and then looked down at his body. He seemed to process Bevussa’s statement. Then he glanced at the bird woman again. Nervously. Bevussa licked the edges of her beak. Bird stared at her for a long moment and then edged away.
“I am not food.”
“Sure. And I’m not a bird.”
The two looked at each other. Then Bird stood up.
“I must go for reasons I have not come up with yet. Goodbye.”
He scurried towards the stairs, glancing behind him at Bevussa every few steps. She grinned and then felt a bit bad.
“I hope I didn’t scare him.”
Erin came over with a mug of her own lager. She tasted it and made a face.
“He’ll be fine. I think it’s a good lesson for Bird. Hey, you gonna drink your beer? Because I’m not. This stuff tastes bad.”
Bevussa realized both of her drinks were in front of her, as yet untouched. She shook her head and lifted her mug to her beak.
“He’s not what I expected an Antinium to be. But I like him. He’s a child, but an adult. It—well, are all of them like him?”
“Not all. But they’re all a bit young and old at the same time.”
Erin stared sadly at Bird as he hurried up the stairs. He was clearly nervous, but he held the feather like the most precious thing in the world. Like his bow. The two women watched Bird disappear. Bevussa sat with her mug in her hands, thinking of the Antinium Wars, of all the Workers that no doubt lived in the Hives. She glanced at Erin. A hundred things raced through her mind, questions, statements, very few of which would change anything that was reality. She opened her mouth to choose one of them—
And a Drake slid into a seat next to Bevussa. Both she and Erin turned as Relc appeared. The Drake gave Bevussa a huge grin and flexed his arm a bit as he leaned over. He took a deep breath and then spoke in what he thought was a seductive tone to Bevussa.
“Hey, baby. Did you drop out of the sky? Because you look like a bird of paradise to me.”
He winked as he pointed two fingers at Bevussa. The Garuda stared at him, drink tilted towards her beak. Part of it began dribbling down her front as she and Erin just stared at Relc. He looked from face to face and then turned away.
“Damn it. I knew I shouldn’t have given all the good lines to Embria.”
He scuffed away. And Bird sat in his room. At first, he hid in his fortress of fluff, but then he was no longer afraid. He sat and grew sleepy, and when he dreamed, it was not of Bevussa, but of the wondrous birds she’d described flying through the sky. He dreamed he was flying too, flying with a gigantic bow and shooting birds as large as clouds. And the green and blue feather lay beneath Bird’s pillow, the most precious thing in the world.
5.51 G
Day 9
She knew. Before the sun rose, Rags knew. It was a gaping hole in her heart, a certainty of loss. It was fury and grief. And tears.
Goblins didn’t cry. It was a waste of water. But despite knowing that, despite knowing that the Goblins clustered around her were watching their Chieftain, she couldn’t stop. Nor could she explain the pain in her to her anxious tribe.
She just knew, that was all. So she told them to search.
The first thing they did was run a check on the patrols. But nothing had disturbed the camp’s perimeter during the night. So Rags told them to search for something else. Pyrite, Redscar, Noears, Poisonbite, and the other Hobs did just that. Dawn was just breaking when they realized someone was missing.
Quietstab. There was nothing too unusual about that—Quietstab was a [Rogue] and good at hiding. But he hadn’t turned up, and he would have with the entire camp abuzz with concern. That was when Rags knew.
She knew, but she didn’t know. She didn’t want to know. So she told the others to look for him. She busied herself with getting her camp packed up, readying her tribe for the day’s march. But the tears wouldn’t stop.
The other three tribes were rousing themselves as well. Tremborag’s Mountain City tribe, Garen’s Redfangs, and of course the army of the Goblin Lord, Reiss. Rags could see Goblins staring at her camp. They could tell something was wrong, too. She saw Reiss’ warriors moving to relay that information to a senior Hob and Garen’s warriors watching with clear confusion. But Tremborag’s Goblins were different.
They looked amused as Hobs and Goblins from Rags’ tribe started combing the camp systematically. They gathered, a vast mass of Goblins, the only group large enough to rival Reiss’ army, and watched and laughed. As if they knew something.
Dark fear and suspicion wormed its way into Rags’ stomach. She knew, but she didn’t want to put the pieces together. Not yet. The tears had stopped by the time the first [Fireball] exploded overhead. It was time to move.
But Quietstab was still missing. Rags strode around her camp, watching Reiss’ army take the lead and Garen’s small tribe begin to move as well. Tremborag’s Goblins were still watching. And her tribe—
“Chieftain, orders?”
Noears looked slightly nervous as he glanced at the line of mounted Humans beginning to approach from the south. More [Fireballs] were exploding overhead, warning the Goblins to move or die. Rags knew that the [Mages] would begin lobbing spells at them in minutes if they didn’t move. But she knew.
“Not yet. Wait. Find Quietstab.”
The earless Goblin [Mage] hesitated, but he didn’t argue further. Rags saw her Goblins glancing more and more rapidly at the coming Humans. Now, even Tremborag’s tribe, usually slowest of the four tribes, was moving. The Humans were yet ten minutes away from reaching the spot where Rags stood at the speed they were travelling, but they were in range of the [Mages]’ spells. Any Goblins who got too close to the front line of advancing riders would die.
And yet, Rags refused to move. She waited, watching the glittering line of horses and humans draw closer. Her Goblins looked to her nervously. Now they were alone, a small group of stationary Goblins compared to the mass of marching Goblins ahead of them.
A spell exploded overhead, making Rags look up. She saw another spell—a long, sinuous cloud of green smoke—twist over the heads of the Goblins. It was shaped like a worm, but it had a Dragon’s face. Its eyes were red, and it roared at the Goblins, although the sound was silent. Below it, the Goblins backed away.
Poison. Or something close to it. The [Mages] were getting impatient. And still, Rags didn’t move. She saw her warriors spreading outside her camp, searching, calling out at each other. And then one group approached the latrines. And stopped.
Rags saw the ripple go through the searching Goblins without the need for words. The ones near the latrines waved their arms frantically as the Hob recoiled, his entire posture displaying shock and horror. And grief. In an instant, Pyrite was there. He stared down at something and then turned. Rags was already riding towards him.
“Chieftain.”
He met her halfway. The other Goblins were converging on the spot. But Pyrite blocked Rags’ Carn Wolf from going any further. She slid from the saddle, but Pyrite gently blocked her.
“Chieftain.”
“Is Quietstab there?”
Pyrite nodded. He blocked Rags with one huge claw. Rags looked up at him. Pyrite’s eyes were troubled. She took a breath.
