Rescuing Ashi wouldn’t help them stop Tariic, and it would certainly cost them their access to the lore of the Kech Volaar.
“No new information from Senen?” he asked. Ekhaas shook her head. Her ears flicked back as she did, and Geth knew she wasn’t thinking just about Ashi. One of Senen’s reports had made a passing reference to Dagii but no more than that. Was he still an ally or was he under Tariic’s power?
If he was controlled by the Rod, he wouldn’t have been the only one. Senen had also mentioned Midian’s appearance as Tariic’s royal historian. Geth would have expected the gnome to flee for Zilargo. He couldn’t believe Midian remained at Tariic’s side of his own free will. For that matter, they couldn’t even trust that Senen’s will was her own, though her continued warnings that she was being watched at least suggested it.
“I hate this,” he said. “There has to be something more we can do.”
Ekhaas’s ears went even farther back. “I know. If I had an archivist to help me with the Register-or even another duur’kala-I might at least be able to find the right place to start.”
“No other duur’kala will help you?”
Ekhaas made a face. “They don’t want to cross Diitesh. And to be honest, they’re all more interested in you right now.”
“It’s nice to be wanted,” Geth said dryly. “Do you want to duel?”
One of the discomforts of Volaar Draal was passing the time-he and Tenquis weren’t exactly welcome in the gathering places of the dar city. Ekhaas and Chetiin, of course, blended in with the other goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears, but a tiefling and a shifter stuck out like… well, like chaat’oor. There was no shortage of private dueling circles in the city, however, and Ekhaas had started joining Geth in them, fighting away the tension that gathered during the day. Occasionally Chetiin fought with them as well, though neither of them could land a touch on him unless he permitted it. Tenquis abstained entirely, preferring to sit beside the ring and read. Diitesh might have blocked him from access to the wonders of the vaults, but he’d sought out the smiths and masons of the Kech Volaar. Against all expectations, he’d even managed to make contacts among them and was busy learning what he could of half-remembered daashor traditions from their techniques and borrowed scrolls.
Ekhaas, though, only shook her head at the invitation to duel. “I can’t keep up with you,” she said. “I need a rest. Let’s go look for Tenquis. He’s probably still with the smiths.”
“He isn’t.”
Geth almost jumped at the sound of Chetiin’s scarred voice. His hand went to Wrath, and he whirled around, looking for the goblin. He found him crouched in the shadows below the statue of some unnamed Dhakaani hero, calm and undisturbed. “Boar’s snout,” Geth said. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting for you.” Chetiin stood up. “Tenquis hasn’t been visiting the smiths of Volaar Draal.”
“What’s he been doing then?” asked Ekhaas. “Where did he get those books?” Her ears rose. “Why have you been following him?”
Chetiin actually looked slightly ashamed for the first time since Geth had known him. “I wasn’t following him. I came across him yesterday when I was coming back into Volaar Draal.”
“Chetiin!” said Ekhaas in protest.
“The shaarat’khesh come and go as they please,” the old goblin said stubbornly. “I wanted to speak to Marrow.”
“Was it nice outside?” Geth asked.
“The air was as sharp and clear as a knife made of glass.”
“You still broke the terms of sanctuary.” Ekhaas looked around them as if Diitesh might be lurking nearby, ready to pounce on this violation.
“Ignore that. As I was coming back into the city, I came across Tenquis. I was mistaken when I said he’d make a good golin’dar. He has no talent for stealth. He wasn’t in the smiths’ quarter of the city, though. Today I followed him to see where he went.”
“And?”
“Proof requires more than words,” said Chetiin. “Come with me.”
Chetiin led them to a building on the other side of Volaar Draal that seemed mostly deserted, with only scattered ghostlights glimmering in the narrow windows. Geth raised an eyebrow to Chetiin, but he just shook his head and ushered them inside. The corridors were empty and smelled mostly of damp stone.
“What is this place?” Geth asked Ekhaas softly.
“Unused apartments,” she said. “The clan grows and shrinks. Buildings fall in and out of common use.”
Chetiin gestured for silence, then pointed up a flight of narrow stone stairs. They moved, the goblin as noiselessly as a shadow, hobgoblin and shifter as quietly as possible. Two floors up, Chetiin pointed around the corner of a landing into another corridor. Geth eased his head around the corner. Light shone around a door, and he could just make out voices. One of them might have been Tenquis’s, but he wasn’t sure. He mimed approaching the door to Chetiin, who nodded. Walking softly, Geth stepped into the corridor and slipped up to the door.
It was Tenquis, speaking Goblin. From the cadence of his voice, it sounded like he was reading something. Geth gripped Wrath’s hilt, and the words became clear.
“-rebellion among the nobles ultimately cost Saabak Puulta, marhu of Dhakaan, fifth lord of the Second Puulta dynasty, his life, but many of the nobility of the empire died along with him. Though Saabak Puulta’s successor, Giis Puulta, lavished favor on a chosen few, the empire would never be strong again. On the Stela of Rewards that he erected before his fortress of Zaal Piik, it is recorded that this was the time when muut was broken.” Tenquis paused, his voice thin with amazement. “Horns of Ohr Kaluun.”
“Indeed,” answered another voice. “Records from the era of the Rebellion of Lords are sparse. It was a shameful time, but the Stelae of Rewards that emperors and generals of Dhakaan erected as memorials to those they deemed heroes are a rich source of information. Here is the final piece of the puzzle, though-and if you ever doubted your decision to approach me, then don’t, because I am the only one who could have brought you this.”
The second voice was familiar. It belonged to a woman, probably a hobgoblin, and Geth had a feeling that with just a few more words, he would recognize her. Ekhaas, apparently, needed no time at all. Her ears went back flat. Her skin flushed dark. In three swift steps, she spun around Geth and kicked the door. It slammed open.
From over a table covered in books and scrolls and loose pieces of age-darkened paper, two faces stared back at them in surprise. One was Tenquis. The other was “Kitaas!” snarled Ekhaas. “What are you doing here?”
For an instant, both the artificer and the archivist simply looked startled. Then Kitaas rose imperiously. “I, my sister, am recovering the heritage of Dhakaan while you seem intent on denying it!”
Ekhaas bared her teeth. “What are you talking about?”
Geth felt a whirl of confusion. After Kitaas’s greeting when they had arrived in Volaar Draal, he wouldn’t have expected that she and Tenquis would exchange polite words, let alone meet in secret. The only thing he could really understand was why Chetiin had insisted they see this for themselves. He wouldn’t have believed it.
A scowl flitted across Tenquis’s face, and he stood as well. “Get out!” he said. “Just get out and leave us alone.”
Ekhaas and Kitaas had locked eyes, however. “You travel with a store of knowledge you don’t even recognize,” said Kitaas. “This one understands the lore of the daashor better than our own smiths”-she pointed at Tenquis-“and archivists will record Kitaas as the one who bargained to bring it back.”
“You called him chaat’oor,” Ekhaas said. “Which is he, then? A defiler of Dhakaan or a guardian of its lore?”
Geth looked to Tenquis in surprise. The tiefling’s face was taut with frustration. “I traded some of my knowledge for access to records from the vault,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Records from the vaults?” Ekhaas strode up to the table and snatched up a scroll. “Kitaas, you took records from the vaults?”
Kitaas’s ears flicked. “Don’t question my muut. I am adjunct to the High Archivist. The secrets of the daashor are worth showing a few minor histories to a chaat’oor.”
“We can talk about this later,” said Tenquis. He turned golden eyes to Geth. “Please just go now!”
The hair on Geth’s arms and the back of his neck rose. There was more than just frustration and anger in Tenquis’s voice. There was anxiety too. Maybe even outright fear. He genuinely needed them out of there.
