“We could set up camp down here. It’s dry and protected from anything that might come at us from outside. It’s better than anywhere else so far,” Brodnik said as we stood at the bottom of the amphitheater, his voice echoing.
“All right,” Kull said. “We’ll set up camp here, but I want two people on watch at a time.”
“Why?” Heidel asked. “We’ll be fine here. You said so yourself.”
“I never said we’d be fine.”
Heidel rolled her eyes and slung the pack off her shoulder. Everyone else did the same. Unrolling my bed, I placed it on the stone floor. I wasn’t sure what good it would do, as I was certain I would never get any sleep in a place like this. Maybe I should volunteer to take watch all night. But I could at least try to sleep, couldn’t I? Maybe I would surprise myself and sleep through the whole night.
Then again, probably not.
We placed the fey lanterns around the perimeter of our sleeping area. Kull and Brodnik worked on starting a fire. They gathered what little fuel they could, mostly sagebrush, and stacked it in the center of the space.
Kull and Brodnik got the fire going, and we pulled out a little food. Rolf offered me some of his wife’s dried meat, but I politely refused, opting for another granola bar. Dinner of champions.
Brodnik pulled out a flask of Wult ale, which I also refused. While we sat atop our packs surrounding the fire, eating, talking, and laughing, I almost forgot where we were.
“…married her a month later,” Brodnik bellowed, his beard quivering as he laughed. “You didn’t have time to find out what her mother was like, did you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Rolf shot back.
“I bet it matters when you have children and she tells you what to name them,” Heidel said.
“She wouldn’t do that,” he said. “Probably,” he added sheepishly.
“Aye,” Brodnik winked. “We’ll see.”
“How could you not have known Bryn’s mother was the chieftain of the eastern clan? The woman is famous,” Kull said.
“Well, because…” Rolf stammered, “…because I was courting Bryn, you know. I didn’t have time to find out anything about her mother. Also…Bryn may have omitted telling me anything about her parents. Apparently, she’d scared away other suitors when she dropped that fact.”
Brodnik laughed. “Aye, she’s right smart. I’ll give her that!”
“But Bryn’s mother can’t be that bad, can she?” I asked.
Heidel gave me a hard stare. “Magwellan Vanderkut. Have you heard the name?”
I shook my head.
“She’s a war general with a reputation for being brutal, and she’s no less so off the field,” Brodnik said. “She’s been known for being mighty nasty to her daughters’ suitors. All eight of them. And our Rolf here just happened to capture the heart of the woman’s youngest daughter, her baby, her most treasured child.”
“It doesn’t matter who her mother is,” Rolf shot back. After a pause, he added, “Except for the time she demanded Bryn return home during our honeymoon to finish the wash—that was a little annoying.”
Brodnik let out a deep belly laugh, his cheeks bright pink. Ale sloshed out of his tankard as he chuckled. “Finish the wash! On your honeymoon? You’re joking, right?”
Rolf scowled. “I was being honest.”
Brodnik slapped his knee as he laughed louder.
“It’s not that funny. It only took Bryn a day and a half to finish it, and then we traveled back to the Northland castle. Honestly, it wasn’t so bad.”
“I’d have pulled my sword on anyone who’d interrupted my honeymoon,” Heidel said, scratching Grace’s head.
“Yeah, maybe, but I would never attempt such a thing with Mags. She’s looking for excuses to kill me already.”
“Mags? Is that what you call her?” Kull asked.
“That… and other things.” Rolf couldn’t hold back a mischievous grin. “Mag Bags, Mag the Hag, Saggy Maggy… I’ll, eh,” he cleared his throat, “spare you from the other names.”
The fire crackled, sending a fountain of sparks shooting into the air. We grew quiet as a chill seeped into our camp. Outside, I heard only stillness—no crickets or night owls. Only silence. I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and huddled beneath it.
“So…” Brodnik said, then took a gulp of his ale. “What can you tell us of this sword, Olive?”
“The sword?”
“Aye, the sword of Dracon. That’s why we’ve come on this accursed quest, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know too much about it. I know that it was a Madralorde weapon. It’s supposed to be able to kill Theht. It was last seen in the possession of Lucretian, and this staff is supposed to lead us to him. Still working on that one.”
I studied the staff, feeling the worn wood imbued with magic, the frail, gentle hum of its power calling to me, and the blue orb on top, wishing I knew how to control it. As I let my own magic flow into the staff, the power dissipated. The staff’s magic was too ancient and brittle, but I wouldn’t give up yet. Maveryck had controlled the staff, although he’d had an advantage since it had belonged to his brother—but still, if the thief could do it, then so could I.
“Who was Dracon?” Rolf asked.
I darted a glance at Heidel before speaking, but she didn’t meet my gaze. “He was a Madralorde brother who wielded the sword. We also had the opportunity to meet him, even though he had been given a potion that made him forget his identity. His name in this lifetime was Maveryck—he was the thief we worked with not long ago.”
“Yes, I remember,” Brodnik said. “The pretty fellow who
