his mouth.
A long, silent moment later, Corim asked tentatively, “What are we going to do?”
Jayson said nothing, breathing in steadily, slowly, to calm himself, thinking about the creatures, of Lianne and the dwarren. He thought of the fire-at least three of the main buildings in Gray’s Kill were burning, probably more- and the sounds of fighting. The village had been attacked. He didn’t know why, or by whom, didn’t know what those creatures were, but the dwarren were here. He’d seen them, clear as day.
Cobble Kill lay a day’s ride distant, and it housed a barracks of the Legion.
But Lianne. And Corim’s parents.…
He was Corim’s guardian now, until they knew what had happened to the boy’s parents.
Reluctantly, he said, “We have to go to Cobble Kill. GreatLord Kobel needs to know what has happened here.”
“I never realized the dwarren tunnels were so… extensive.”
Colin glanced up from removing the satchels and saddle packs from his horse to where Eraeth stood, staring out over the wide cavern the dwarren had chosen as a resting area. Unlike the chambers where the dwarren lived, this cavern was long and wide, the ceiling low, perhaps twice as high as Eraeth was tall. The river surged through the chamber in a deep channel to the right of where they’d entered, glinting with torchlight as the army of dwarren warriors began unpacking their camp. At the front of the combined army, one of the dwarren had removed a drum and beat out a steady rhythm into the mouth of the next tunnel, announcing their position, the information being passed down the way stations between them and the Confluence.
Two days before, they’d been joined by another large group of dwarren, the size of the army nearly doubling. At first, Colin had thought they came from one of the other clans, but as the new warriors dispersed, he realized they had merely been reinforcements for the three clans that were already part of the group.
It unsettled him. He wondered how many dwarren were being called to this Gathering, and to what purpose.
He shoved his speculations aside. He’d done nothing but ponder the possibilities during the ride so far and had come to no solid conclusions. He didn’t have enough information, and he wouldn’t get that information until they reached the Confluence. None of the clan chiefs or the head shamans knew anything beyond what they’d told him in the keeva, or they were unwilling to share their information if they had it. The fact that he knew nothing had nearly driven him to abandon the dwarren and Eraeth and Siobhaen altogether and use his powers to reach the Confluence ahead of them, but he’d resisted.
Besides, there was something he needed to do here.
“The dwarren tunnels run beneath the entire length of the plains,” he said in answer to Eraeth’s unasked question. “From the Escarpment all the way to the edges of the Thalloran Wasteland, from the mountains to the north to the Flats in the south. They have controlled them for generations, so long that they’ve lost count.”
Eraeth turned aside from his perusal of the dwarren as they methodically settled in to rest, the smells of a hundred cook fires beginning to fill the room. Colin’s stomach growled, but he ignored it.
“Did the dwarren build them?”
“No,” Colin said with a smile. “According to their legends, they were given the network of chambers and corridors by their gods, so that they could oversee the preservation of the Lands above and so they could protect the Sacred Waters. As far as I can surmise based on their histories, they have done so for well over two thousand years, but it’s hard to judge.”
“So they believe their gods built it for them?” Siobhaen said with a touch of derision.
“Of course,” Colin said. He frowned down at the contents of the satchel in his hands. He didn’t think he’d need much for his excursion, knew that most of what he had brought would be useless. He shrugged and cinched the satchel tightly, throwing it over one shoulder.
Eraeth was suddenly at his side. “Where are you going?”
He met the Protector’s frown. “I need to speak to the Faelehgre… and to the forest.”
“And were you going to tell us you were leaving?”
Colin turned in surprise as Siobhaen stepped up behind Eraeth. Both of them gave him a nearly identical look of anger. They barely spoke to each other on good days, but in this they were united? He shook his head. “I’ll be back before the dwarren rouse themselves and continue on.”
“That’s not the point,” Eraeth said.
“One of us should be with you,” Siobhaen added.
Eraeth nodded. “That was the whole point in having us accompany you.”
Colin glanced back and forth between them, eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. But no, there was still a tension between the two, an unspoken distrust. They simply both agreed, grudgingly, that he shouldn’t be traveling alone.
He sighed, focusing on Eraeth. “You can’t come with me. I don’t want to leave the dwarren army, and I have to travel too far to take either of you with me.” He let his voice harden. “I’m going to Terra’nor and the Well, that’s all. I’ll be gone at most a few hours.”
Siobhaen frowned in confusion. “You know where we are? How? I lost any sense of direction the moment we were taken underground.”
“I can sense the Well,” Colin said, not looking away from Eraeth. The Protector’s eyes searched his own. “We’re beneath the Ostraell, have been for the past day or so. We’re in the domain of the Faelehgre and within the bounds of the Seasonal Trees-the Summer Tree actually. I’ll be protected.”
Eraeth considered a long moment, then nodded once. “Very well.”
Siobhaen scowled, arms crossed over her chest.
“Don’t be too hard on him, Siobhaen,” Colin said. “He knows neither one of you could stop me.”
Then he slowed time and stepped to the side, catching the beginning of Siobhaen’s surprise before turning away and leaving them behind.
He Traveled, slid among all of the gathered dwarren in the midst of setting up camp, through pockets of the warriors circled around campfires, eating and drinking, all of their actions caught in mid-motion. He stalked past others herding the gaezels they rode to the far left, grain thrown out onto the floor to lure them away from the rest of the underground encampment. The dwarren were leading them in small groups to the river’s edge to drink. As he passed the head of the army, he noted the clan chiefs and head shamans were seated around a brazier, the sharp scent of yetope heavy on the air, even with time slowed.
And then he moved beyond the army, entering the wide mouth of the tunnel beyond.
He picked up the pace as soon as he passed into the darkness, reaching into his saddle to withdraw a wooden box. From inside, he took out a clear stone prism about as long as his hand, like quartz, but polished smooth on its faces. A tendril of white fire lay trapped inside the prism, whisking back and forth along its length, tongues of smaller flames flicking outward from the main tendril to trace along the edges of the crystal.
Siobhaen would be shocked to her core if she ever found the stone. As a member of the Order of the Flame, she’d recognize that the flame Colin had captured inside the crystal was part of Aielan’s Light, taken from the pool of fire that burned beneath the mountains of Caercaern. He had not asked for permission to capture the flame, not from Lotaern or the Order. He knew what the Chosen would have said, that the Fire was not a tool, but a manifestation of Aielan, that it should not be abused in such a manner.
Colin understood the significance of the Fire to the Alvritshai and, in particular, to the Order. He understood the need for faith. His mother had raised him beneath the Hand of Holy Diermani; he had read from the Codex, had attended church with his mother at his side, had prayed beneath the Tilted Cross, and had planned on taking his vows with Karen with the blessings of one of Diermani’s priests.
That would never happen now.
But he thought Lotaern and the Order were blinded by their faith. Aielan’s Fire could be used for other things, like the crystal he now held up to illuminate the passage before him. They had begun to explore such possibilities; the Alvritshai had witnessed the use of the Fire at the battlefield at the Escarpment, when Lotaern and that first battalion of the Flame had called it forth from the earth to disrupt the attack by the Legion. And Lotaern had used the Fire to help him in their first attempts at forging a weapon to use against the Wraiths.
Lotaern would never have considered removing part of the Fire itself from its natural cauldron, though.
Colin had no such compunctions… although he
