They joined him on the ground floor, though Aenwyn was quickly lost after drifting towards one of the glass cabinets. Galanör rounded the long table to meet Gideon, only to pause at the sight of a familiar sword mounted horizontally on the wall. The ranger rapped his knuckle against the dragon bone. “I remember this,” he remarked. “What did he call it again?”
Gideon stopped for as long as it took him to see what Galanör was talking about. “Dragonslayer,” he said with a hint of disgust.
“What a foul name,” Aenwyn opined. “Who did it belong to?”
“Karakulak, the orc king.” Galanör’s tone was that of Gideon’s.
Aenwyn’s eyes lit up in understanding. “I only glimpsed him during that last battle - he was big.”
“He was a head shorter by the time Gideon was finished swinging Mournblade,” Galanör quipped.
“Good riddance,” Aenwyn commented, returning to her exploration.
Galanör left the horrid sword where it was and turned to Gideon, who was frantically shifting the contents of another tall cupboard, his eyes scanning its every nook and cranny.
“Where is it?” he muttered to himself. “I know I left it around here somewhere.”
“What are you searching for?” Galanör enquired with some concern. “The Hastion gem?”
“No,” Gideon answered, moving to the next set of shelves. “The gem is locked away over there,” he said absently, gesturing in the direction of the hearth.
Galanör left Gideon to his task and approached the area beside the hearth, though he discovered naught but books either stacked on top of each other or lined along the numerous shelves. “I don’t see it,” he called over his shoulder.
“Don’t touch that!” Gideon warned.
Galanör spun on his heel and quickly followed Gideon’s outstretched hand to Aenwyn. She froze, her finger under the golden latch that secured a vertical glass display. Slowly, the elf retracted her finger and removed her hand before turning back to Gideon.
“My apologies,” the old master said, calming down. “I should have told you: certain items in here are warded, especially that one. Best not touch any of them.”
Galanör looked past Aenwyn to examine the particular item in question. Inside the glass case, hanging on a simple hook, was a long chain with a large ruby on the end. He would know that ruby anywhere, having seen it around Hadavad’s neck for many years.
“The Viridian ruby,” Galanör uttered.
“A Viridian ruby,” Gideon specified. “There are supposedly five of them…” His words trailed off as he stood back from the cupboard to look at every shelf in frustration.
“This is the ruby used by the mage Hadavad?” Aenwyn checked.
Galanör was glad to know that she had been listening to his tales after all. “Yes. It’s how he moved from one host to another.” The ranger turned back to Gideon. “I didn’t know you possessed it.”
“I couldn’t leave it for just anyone to find,” the old master replied without looking back at him. “And it was no easy task. Before leaving for Dragons’ Reach, I returned to the site where we faced The Crow. There was a lot of debris to clear, but Ilargo saw to most of that. I was just thankful the Leviathan wasn’t covering it.”
Galanör let his sight linger on the ruby for a moment. There were still times when he missed the old mage and their days hunting down The Black Hand. Taking his mind from such memories, the ranger returned his attention to the Hastion gem. “There’s nothing but books over here, Gideon,” he reminded him.
The old master tore himself away from his task and joined Galanör in combing the books. He scanned along one of the shelves, his finger running across numerous spines before stopping on one nestled in the middle. “Here it is,” he announced, handing the book to the ranger.
Galanör read the cover. “Merdians of the Blue,” he said curiously.
“Merdians are among the deepest dwellers of The Adean,” Gideon explained to a quizzical elf. He flashed an amused grin before opening the hardback cover to reveal a hollow cut into the pages. Sitting inside was an ornate ring, the finest craftsmanship to house the Hastion sapphire.
Galanör shared some of his friend’s humour. “Merdians of the Blue. Very imaginative. Shame about the book though,” he added, removing the Hastion gem.
Gideon lifted a finger to the air. “There’s another copy on the third floor - fascinating read.”
The elven ranger was sure to secure the gem on his belt before responding. “I’m sure it is,” he agreed, though he had made a personal vow, decades earlier, to steer well clear of all Mer-folk for the rest of his immortal days.
“What are you looking for?” Aenwyn asked Gideon, who had already returned to his personal hunt.
“This!” he declared, retrieving a leather satchel from the last cupboard on the ground floor. It was a disgusting looking thing that appeared to have seen more years than all of them combined. “Don’t you recognise it?” Gideon held it up for Galanör to see.
The ranger shook his head. “Should I? It looks like the inside of an orc.”
The old master stifled a laugh and turned the satchel upside down. From within, half a cupboard’s worth of books were emptied onto the floor at his feet. Seeing the pocket dimension in action, Galanör’s memory was cajoled into recalling the ancient satchel.
The elf pointed at it. “Adilandra brought that back from Davosai. She found it in Atilan’s lab.” His eyes looked down to the pile of books, searching for a specific tome.
“It’s not there,” Gideon told him, deciphering his thoughts. “Atilan’s grimoire - the one Adilandra placed inside - is locked away and warded.” He looked down at the other books. “I just needed somewhere to put all of those.”
Galanör raised an eyebrow. “So you used the ancient satchel of a self-proclaimed god.”
Gideon shrugged. “It did the job.”
“How will this
