There were twelve stumps surrounding the fire, and as I sat down on one, I noted it was far from an ordinary piece of wood. It was polished and smooth, the wood so old it felt almost like stone. And around it, intricate whirls of design danced through the wood. The stone bench behind spoke of a vast number of lesser rangers meant to attend such gatherings. How many were left, I could not say.
Ashtel stood and gave a start to the night’s discussion. “Thank you all for coming. I wanted more of us here, but there are skirmishes abroad that needed attention. Hardel, let us hear from you first. What is the news from the North?”
Hardel nodded gravely several times, his tall face looking more somber with his proximity to the fire. “I have visited with the orcish clans along the coast and in the hills north of the Sirrushi Mountains. They have been approached and have attempted to deny this Rat King any fealty. Some of their villages were razed, and they are retreating into their most sacred valleys. Still, some of them were overwhelmed and bent knee. The Cragskull clan, at the least, has already travelled south and given their service. They are small in number, only a few hundred, but the rat has been reshaping his minions. There are reports of ratkin that stand over seven feet tall. I have no idea where this perversion has come from!”
Then Selna spoke, lending credibility to the man’s claims. “Hana and I fought against one, a ratkin commander named Gascar, who was nearly so tall. His strength was formidable.” It was obvious that all present were well-trusted, but Ashtel’s look of doubt was plain to see.
The leader shook his head slowly, then gestured for Hardel to continue. “Please go on. What of the Naiads or the horse lords of the Cabyll Skerries?”
“Good luck there, at least. The Naiads have all fled their streams and rivers, and they are hiding in the depths of Korin’s Firth. Still, they cannot retreat farther. The salt of the ocean grows too strong beyond. And the Cabyll Ushte, the mighty horse lords themselves, have refused all attempts at subjugation. I spoke with Mendonn himself, and he swore they pulled nearly a hundred of the foul beasts into their waters. They remain strong.”
“Could they lend us aid?” Liam asked hopefully.
“Nay—not unless we have the fortune of battling this foe near the sea,” Hardel responded.
Lilian spoke up then, her face filled with sudden hope. “That may be to our benefit. Liam and I scouted along the western coast, and the whole area is swarming with the Rat King’s influence. Gilsby alone remains unconquered, and even there, news of subterfuge has reached us. Yet many say that his stronghold is in the South, near the ocean.”
A man behind us, near the stairs, said, “It is true, friends, and please excuse my truancy.”
Selna stood, her eyes betraying a spark of joy as she called out, “Judas! Well timed as usual.”
The herbalist laughed nervously and crossed to sit next to her.
Ashtel demanded, “Well, don’t keep us waiting to indulge your need to be mysterious. What do you know, Judas?”
The fledgling wizard cleared his throat and peered at the faces around the fire. He nodded to Madi and I, then told his story. “I have been far to the South. The spirits in the Broga Ruins are frightful but, they are attached to the world through deep ley lines. When I went to ask what they knew, I was nearly killed on the spot. The enemy had been there already. The Rat King took the crown of Vistaine.”
A collective gasp came from the rangers, and Madi and I were left blinking. I threw her a glance, but she only shrugged.
Judas noted our confusion and explained, “Ancient jewelry. The kind that ghosts don’t like to let go of. And powerful.” Then he returned his focus to Ashtel. “They were taken, and the spirits demanded blood. I managed to convince them that if they let me go, I could return their treasure. Then they told me where the jewels were taken.”
Everyone leaned forward an inch as Judas delivered the crucial piece of information. “Drok Shapol has been occupied by the Rat King. He is using its depths to fortify his armies and bend the rules of nature. So although I would prefer another place to wage war, nearly any other place, it is within a mile of the coast. The horse lords may yet be able to help us.”
“Some good news at least, but Drok Shapol is an evil place,” Ashtel said with gravity. “I would not be surprised if it is also a source of this fallen king’s power.”
Then Selna asked Judas a question, cutting through the silence. “What do you think are his motives? Are our suspicions well-founded?”
The wizard’s eyes met Selna’s. “I fear they may be.”
“Speak openly, you two, “Ashtel chided. “What do you know?”
“We feared that the ratkin were searching for something, perhaps even someone,” Selna explained. “Their attentions near Taelman’s Pond were most concerning.”
“Wait, I’m sorry to interrupt, but what does Taelman’s Pond have to do with anything?” I asked, getting frustrated with knowing so little.
Ashtel sighed and asked me, with worry in his tone, “Did you happen to meet with the old man that calls himself Quinn?”
“Of course; he’s my friend,” I answered honestly.
“That shows much character on your part to call him thus. Quinn is more than an old man in a small town. He is of the line of Tael, the last remaining thread of the line of Lem. There is much about this world’s
