Descent Into Darkness (Book 2) (22 page)

Both Ean and Zin stared at the man for a few moments. Turning to Zin, Ean shrugged, which of course earned him a roll of the imp's eyes, before leaning back on his sleeping pallet and letting the old man work. After all, if he could come up with a way for Ean to read the Abysmal Tome with ease, then any shortness or bother the man caused would certainly be worth it.

THE NEXT FEW DAYS flew by. His mornings consisted of working in the Tinker's wagon, fixing pieces of equipment, and learning a great deal about wagon maintenance. As grumpy as Graden was to work with, he reminded Ean of Cleff, which made Ean homesick. Ean had never thought he would miss that place at all once he had left, so the aching for Rottwealth was unexpected.

When he had finished working for Graden and the wagons had stopped for lunch, he would always find Sadiek waiting for him. The old man wanted more words to work with and would practically drag Ean back to his wagon and try to coax some more information out of him. The man barely let him free the rest of the afternoon and was always pressuring him to make Zin join them. Ean would remind the man that Zin was a friend, not a slave, which always earned him a frown. They would remain behind the curtain that kept Sadiek's area of the wagon private. When the wagons eventually rolled to a halt, Sadiek would let him free with a grunt, and they would have dinner with Iacane, Fredren, and Creg.

Out of those three, Ean found Fredren to be the only one that he really was comfortable talking with. The young man was overly friendly, but not in an annoying sort of way, and Ean found his desire to map out the land very interesting. The maps that he had already created were finely detailed, from the tiny trees representing Rensen Forest to the individual streets and buildings of Lurthalan. The current map Fredren was working on, the one detailing the path they were taking from Lurthalan to the Deadlands, was updated each time Fredren showed it to him.

Unfortunately, Iacane was always close at hand and always joined them. The longer they traveled together, the more pompous and arrogant the man appeared to Ean. The man would find any connection to what they were talking about to launch into a longwinded story about some amazing feat of healing he had performed or someone interesting and powerful that he had saved. And every time, Ean and Fredren would just look at each other and roll their eyes.

Iacane was tolerable in small doses though, and sometimes the man could be funny, on the rare occasion he let himself relax a bit. Creg, on the other hand, was never pleasant. The boy would grumble under his breath and push his way past someone even when there was plenty of room in the wagon or outside to easily go around. Mercifully, he stayed in his small, secluded spot most of the time the wagons were moving and kept to himself outside once the wagons had stopped for the night. His very presence always seemed to rub everyone the wrong way. And with the Deadlands quickly approaching, everyone was already on edge.

The conversation leaned more and more towards the Deadlands. Ean couldn't tell if talking about it helped people feel better or worse. It certainly didn't help that each day when they awoke, people were missing. It started small, a wagon driver missing the first morning when everyone had awoken. Most people just chalked it up to nerves, saying that the pressure of going into the Deadlands had gotten to him. Ean could understand, having decided to carry on and enter the Deadlands, his nerves grew worse every day.

On the second day, though, three more drivers were missing, and every single person on the caravan became noticeably jumpier. On the third, five more workers were gone, meaning some of the loaders had to take over as drivers. Even Graden was forced to take over a driving shift on one of the wagons. That didn't improve the man's mood, and he certainly let Ean know what he thought about the whole situation. Needless to say, the third night had everyone nervous as they sat around the fire outside of the travelers' wagons.

"Well, are we going to talk about it or not?" Iacane said, breaking the silence that had covered their group since stopping for the night.

"Talk about what?" Fredren replied. The fact that he kept his eyes on the ground let the others know full well he knew what Iacane was getting at.

"The disappearances, of course! I've heard of people abandoning this trip, but nine? Most of which, according to the people I've talked to, have been regulars on this trip for years. I think something much more sinister is going on here than a couple of nervous drivers not wanting to face the Deadlands."

"Sinister?" Sadiek laughed. "Iacane, I think you are jumping to conclusions. Or, are you hoping to uncover some mysterious plot and add to your repertoire of amazing stories?"

"Joke all you want, but all of the workers I've talked to have said it's very strange to have nine abandon their jobs. Four or five before we reach the edge of the Deadlands, maybe. But nine?"

"All of the workers you've talked to? You mean the two men in charge of driving our wagon, don't you? I wouldn't exactly call that a lot of people." Raising his hands to cut off a response, Sadiek continued on. "Let's look at the facts, shall we?"

"One, men abandoning their jobs is common place on this caravan. Everyone agrees that to be true."

"Two, all of the men's possessions are gone. Did the two men you talk to mention that, Iacane? Because the dozen or so I asked made sure to mention it."

"Three, all of the workers sleep close together during the night and there are guards patrolling. It would be much simpler for a man to sneak out of the camp than for something to sneak in, take these men AND their belongings, and sneak back out. Especially five in one night."

"Four, there is already a great deal of trepidation about going into the Deadlands. Add to the fact some people," Sadiek blatantly stared at Iacane for a moment, "are talking about sinister plans making people disappear, and of course it becomes more likely for a larger number of people to want to leave. I believe," Sadiek finished up, "that if you connect all of those facts together it becomes clear that all we have are nine men that decided whatever they were getting paid was not enough for the risks involved. I am sure that if, after this trip, we went to the families of all the men that disappeared, we would find them safely at home."

"Your facts and theories are all well and good," Iacane growled, "but I will still be sleeping lightly the rest of this trip".

"Feel free," Sadiek said, shaking his head. "Tomorrow we'll reach Wethrinter where I'm sure even more will decide to abandon their jobs. And as usual, according to those that I have spoken to, men from Wethrinter will be hired to finish out the rest of the journey. Apparently it happens every time, and I don't plan on losing any sleep over it."

"And if you're wrong?"

"Then you can come and rescue me great, Saniteal, and repeatedly tell me 'I told you so' until I can't take it anymore."

"Keep joking," Iacane grumbled, getting up and turning to walk away. "We'll see if I even bother trying to rescue you if you disappear." And with that he stormed off and entered their wagon, slamming the door behind him.

"You didn't have to mock him," Fredren said after the Saniteal had gone inside. "You have to admit, nine people disappearing..."

Sadiek waved the younger man off like he was shooing away a fly. "Don't you buy into all that 'sinister plot' drivel. You know as well as Ean and I, that man will look for any excuse to find something he can fix."

"Don't bring me into this," Ean finally chimed in. He could see the merits of both the scholar's and the Saniteal's opinions. The men Ean had talked with over the past few days had said that the men's possessions were gone, but they were still nervous about so many leaving, just as Iacane was. Even Graden thought that nine men gone before they even reached Wethrinter was a little suspicious. Of course on the other hand, Sadiek was a fairly intelligent man and Ean trusted him. Had to trust him of course, but trusted him all the same.

Rounding on Ean, Sadiek shook his head sadly. "Come on, my boy, don't you buy into it too. I'll admit on any other trip even a few people suddenly gone would be highly suspicious. But this is a trip into the Deadlands, a trip that could very well infect any one of us with the Plague. A person would have to be a fool to not be at least a little afraid of that. Honestly I'm surprised more people don't run off."

"Sadiek is right," Fredren said, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than Ean. "The closer we get, the more I want to give up as well. Luckily I have our little group to keep me confident that everything will be ok. I don't want to start freaking myself out more because less than a dozen guys got cold feet."

"Fine, fine." Ean could see the other young man's point. No need to upset them more than the thought of going into the Deadlands was already doing. It wasn't like Ean could do anything about the missing men anyway. What could he do, summon his Abysmal Hound to try and sniff the men out? Anyway, if anything ever came when he was sleeping, Zin would warn him. The imp slept very little to begin with and was a fairly light sleeper at that.

"Good," Sadiek said as he rose to stir the pot of stew that would eventually be their dinner. "Then let's move on to happier topics."

But there was very little talk from that point on. They sat around in silence, ate in silence, and all wandered off to bed in silence. Even Zin was quiet, sitting in the corner of their tent and chewing on some small animal carcass. By the time the imp had finished his meal, Ean was already under the blankets and just starting to drift off to sleep.

"We need to talk," Zin said, interrupting Ean's attempt to fall asleep. "Tomorrow we'll be at Wethrinter and then it's into the Deadlands".

"Mmhmm."

"I think all this time spent with Sadiek needs to stop, and you need to return to learning more from the Abysmal Tome on your own."

Turning his head sideways, he could barely make the imp out now in the tiny level of light that peaked through the tent flaps. "Why? From what he's said, he is close to figuring out at least what some of the individual symbols mean and could start making a key as early as tomorrow night. Wouldn't that be better than the two of us grasping in the dark for the meanings of individual characters and symbols?"

"I don't trust him, Ean. I've been keeping my eyes on him and something does not feel right. He talks to himself you know. I haven't been able to get close enough to hear what he says, but I've heard him mumbling to himself plenty of times."

"He's probably just trying to work things out in his head. Old Cleff used to do that all the time, remember, and he is as sharp as a knife."

"I'm telling you, something about him rubs me the wrong way. It's a gut feeling that I just can't shake."

"It's probably just a bit of paranoia, because he knows some of our secrets. The old guy seems harmless, and he is sharp enough not to let anything slip."

"All the same, humor me. Tomorrow, once we've settled into the village for the night, let's work on learning from the Tome together without Sadiek."

Turning over on his side, Ean grunted. "Fine, fine. Sadiek can handle just working off of his notes for one night. Now can I go to bed?"

"Of course. You should be as rested as possible. We have no idea what we'll find in the Deadlands, and especially what is in my old master's lair if we can find it. Best to start resting up now."

"Mmhmm," was all Ean felt the need to reply as he closed his eyes. It only took a matter of moments before he was fast asleep.

IT ONLY TOOK HALF of the morning before Wethrinter came into sight.

Sitting out in the middle of an open plain, the village of Wethrinter was similar in size to Rottwealth, built in what seemed to be an ever-growing circle. Farmlands dotted the landscape all around the village, each with dozens of workers out in the fields. One main dirt road started outside of the village and ran right through the middle of it, effectively dividing the village in half. The wagons of the caravan passed right through town and stopped on the northern outskirts, letting Ean get a good view of the town in the process. Graden had to take over driving another wagon, which left Ean free that morning to observe the town as they passed through.

While similar in size to Rottwealth, the buildings of Wethrinter more closely resembled the more modern ones found in Lurthalan. Medium-sized two story buildings stacking up against each other lined the main road. The buildings themselves were a mixture of stone and wood, similar in build but each one vastly different in color and design. Most of the first floors, for instance, consisted of a single front door on the far left or right side and two windows spaced evenly on the other side. Each door was painted a different color, however, not one repeated until at least a few buildings down, and the windows varied from shutters to drapes to nothing at all in the buildings that were clearly stores.

Narrow alleys that ran deeper into town ran between a few of the houses. Larger streets appeared every now and then, but they also quickly turned off from the main road and were lost behind other buildings. Fredren would have his work cut out for him if he was going to map the town.

Where Lurthalan had a section of the city cordoned off for the sale of goods and services, Wethrinter's business fronts were randomly intermingled among the houses. Glancing down the larger side streets showed a similar lack of organization, as shop signs hung randomly in between regular houses.

When the wagons finally came to a stop in a flat area of earth and weeds to the north of town, Ean thought briefly about finding his traveling companions or the new people he met on this trip, but knowing they each had plans of their own, he decided to go exploring instead. The only one that might be available was Sadiek, but Ean would rather be alone than be grilled by the overly inquisitive man. Better to put off seeing the man until evening and hope that he did not run into Sadiek somewhere in town.

He navigated through workers loading and unloading wagons until he found himself at the edge of town. After wandering the dusty streets for a while, he finally found the inn, The Last Stop, at the center of Wethrinter. A little further south, across from a row of shuttered homes, he spied the mortar and pestle sign of a Healer's shop. With two options before him--grab a well-cooked meal and something to drink or converse about the healing trade with the store owner--Ean decided to do a bit more exploring before making a decision.

He was about to start moving again when an arm wrapped around his neck.

"There is my little brother!" Azalea said playfully, pulling him close.

Ean's face rubbed against the brown fabric of her robe as she pulled him in, or at least the illusion of it. Whatever magic she used to conceal her true form certainly worked well. In reality his face was rubbing against her skin, probably right against...

With a start he pulled away quickly, which just earned him a laugh from Azalea. Ean could only imagine how red his face must look. Why did she always insist on messing with him?

"Oh, brother, how I've missed your innocence. The men I've been spending my time with are, well, let's just say, not innocent." She let out another laugh before patting him on the back. "But now that we have some down time, I wanted to spend some time together. Make sure you don't think I'm too rotten of a 'person.'"

She winked at him then, and despite everything, Ean had to fight to hold back a smile. Even without her powers to manipulate him, she was charming enough on her own. But he wasn't about to let her get too confident. Without knowing it, she had helped him decide what to do next.

"Well, I'm about to head to the local Healer to see what kind of supplies he has, maybe see if he knows any remedies that I might not have learned. I'm sure it won't be that interesting to you."

"Splendid!" she replied. "You've tried talking to me in the past about what you can do and have almost put me to sleep. Maybe if I can actually see these plants it would spark my interest." She gave him a quick jab with her elbow. "Probably not, but it's worth a try."

"Really, that's ok. I'm sure you would find much more entertainment in the inn--"

"I've had plenty of entertainment on the road here," she replied, winking at him again. "That's why you haven't seen me at night. I've been having too much fun."

A thought crashed into Ean's mind. All of those missing men... Could Azalea...

His facial expressions must have matched the dark thoughts, as Azalea untangled her arm from his and slightly pushed him away. "It wasn't me!" Her lower lip curled into an indignant pout. "We made a deal, Ean, and I stick to my deals. I've been having my fun," she leaned in closer and lowered her voice, "but no one has died. Honest, I've been good. Well, maybe not good, but I haven't taken a life since that farm."

Azalea actually looked on the verge of crying. Was it all an act? Could the Yulari even shed tears? Or was she so used to manipulating people that the actions came naturally to her? But something made him believe her, something that Azalea probably had no idea that she had even done. Her eyes, those magnificent dark red pools, had flashed through her disguise for the briefest moment. Ean locked that observation away; it would certainly come in handy.

"Fine, fine," he said, lifting his hands in a calming gesture. "I believe you. But has anyone you've been around said anything about the disappearances?"

"Yes, yes," she said quickly. "Meganan was ranting about it all last night. He was infuriated that so many men, some that had been with him for countless years, had decided to 'chicken out' on this trip. All of his little followers and servants found it strange and a little frightening, but Meganan has been too angry to view what has been happening as anything but the men being cowards."

"And what do you think about the missing men?"

Shrugging, she took his arm again and pulled him close. "I only know what my kind would do in this situation. An intelligent creature like myself certainly wouldn't have taken so many men. It's too noticeable, and as you've seen, makes most people paranoid and nervous. Not a very good idea if you want to keep unnoticed. In my opinion, if something is taking these men, then it's either not very intelligent or its too hungry or driven by something else to care about the fear it is causing."

So either hardened men that had been to the Deadlands countless times had gotten spooked or some sinister creature had snatched them away against their will in the middle of the night. Neither option bode well for Ean.

"But not to worry," Azalea said, reaching over with her free hand and messing with his hair. "You have me to look after you. I'll make sure to stick by you more once we enter these Deadlands. That should help you feel better!"

"I appreciate that, Azalea, I really do."

"You better!" she said, bumping him slightly with her hip. "Now let's go see this ever so exciting store of plants. Maybe at the very least there will be a pretty flower you can buy me to wear in my hair."

"We'll see."

The Healer's store sat just south of the inn, a small alleyway separating the two buildings. Hanging racks of assorted plants hung out front, some of which Ean had never seen. Through the window he saw enough plants to fill a greenhouse. Potted plants covered the sill, while vines coiled around the many shelves. It made Ean think of his home and the myriad of plants that Cleff grew throughout the house. So as he reached for the door, he couldn't help feeling a mixture of nostalgia and excitement...

And was immediately disappointed to find it locked.

After knocking a few times, Ean detached himself from Azalea's arm and moved over to a window. There was no sign stating that the store was closed, but everything else seemed to indicate as much. Peering inside, he was disappointed to see a dark storeroom, the outlines of different plants barely visible. Tapping on the window, Ean couldn't help but show a little of the frustration he was feeling. Azalea, on the other hand, didn't bother hiding her relief.

"Ah well, I guess fondling plants and boring ourselves to death talking about them is not in the cards for today." She punched him playfully in the arm in what Ean imagined was an attempt to take some of the harshness out of her words. "So now it's my turn to decide what we do, and I say we walk into that inn, grab ourselves a table, and have some fun."

"I haven't exactly had the best experiences with drinking, Azalea."

"Yes, I've seen, and I do take partial responsibility for the nights I've been around." Her face scrunched up slightly and she shook her head. "I might have been trying to get you drunk so you wouldn't stop me from having some fun."

Ean opened his mouth, but she quickly cut him off with raised hands.

"Not that I would have, you know..." she paused for a moment, dragging a finger across her throat, "but I thought you would stop me from even using my charms to mess with all of the gentlemen gathered. I promise though, this time will be different. Fun in moderation."

Ean wanted to yell at her, but what good would it do? Azalea was a Yulari just being a Yulari. Ean would have as much impact yelling at a dog for stealing food off a table. It was just her nature, and Ean had to get used to it--to a degree.

"Fine," he said, trying to sound at least a little angry, but his heart wasn't in it. "Let's go have your version of fun. We have the rest of the day to kill anyway. At the very least I heard some music coming from inside. That should be entertaining."

"Good!" Clapping her hands together, she jumped up and down in happiness. "But I promise the people inside will be more entertaining than the music. You just wait and see."