Soul Seeker (The World of Lasniniar Book 1) (42 page)

Barlo prodded the area with the butt of his ax, listening. He inspected the surrounding area and prodded it again. The door was thick and Iarion probably wouldn’t be able to sense it, but Barlo could tell it was there. The ground had a slightly different feel and sound. Only a dwarf would sense such things.

“It’s here,” he said, turning to Iarion.

“I knew Sinstari would find it.” Iarion stroked the cat’s head. “Let’s open it.”

Barlo shook his head. “It’s a dwarven-made door. It wasn’t created to be opened from the outside. It was made as an escape should Dwarfhaven fall. It can only be opened from inside.”

“Well, if the dwarves come out to check the surrounding area, how do they get back in? Surely they don’t leave the door hanging open unguarded.” Iarion’s silver and sapphire eyes narrowed. “There has to be a way back in.”

“They must have a coded knock that tells the dwarves on the other side to open the door.” It was common dwarf procedure.

“Well, you’re a Chief of Clans,” Iarion said. “You must know a good deal about such things.”

“You don’t understand! They probably change it every hour in case one of them is captured and compromised. Besides, it’s not as if all dwarves use the same patterns. These dwarves have lived apart from the rest of us for generations!” Barlo threw his hands up in the air.

“Well, we can’t just sit here and wait for someone to come out and open the door for us. It could be days before they do another surface inspection!”

“Why don’t we just try the pass?” Barlo tried to make his tone reasonable.

“It’s too open. It is no doubt being watched, and we will be seen. Plus, it will add another two days to our journey. We don’t have that kind of time. We have to open this door!”

Iarion ran his hands over the grass, searching for edges. Barlo had never seen his friend in such a state. Iarion was almost frantic. His desperate need to be made complete was driving him beyond reason.

Barlo sighed, seeing there would be no appeasing him. “That won’t do you any good. Here, get out of the way. I want to try something.” He stood directly over the hidden door and took up his ax. Using the butt of it once more, he began a long series of heavy taps.

Iarion stood back, watching in interest. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I may not know their secret knock, but we dwarves do have a code. It’s been around since ancient times, so these dwarves should know it. We use it to communicate while mining if we get separated by a rockslide. I’m telling them who we are and what we want.” Barlo finished his tapping. “There. Now we wait for a response.”

Iarion stood over the hidden opening, waiting. Nothing happened.

“They probably won’t answer right away,” Barlo said as he sat. “They can’t know whether we’re who we say we are, although it’s unlikely any dark creatures know dwarf code. Still, they’re probably arguing whether they should open up for us. Their Chief of Clans will have the final say.”

“So we wait?” Iarion sat next to Barlo, tugging at one of his braids in frustration.

“We wait.”

The day passed slowly and the sky began to darken. Barlo repeated his tapped code every hour to let the dwarves know they were still there. There was no response. Iarion became listless. It was clear he was having doubts about their course of action.

“Do you think they will answer?” he asked.

Barlo shrugged. “I don’t know. I would, if it were Dwarvenhome. Then again, Dwarvenhome is in the heart of the midlands and these are dark times.”

“I hope I haven’t made a mistake. It’s just that each moment that passes while I am carrying the Stariquenya, I can feel Saviadro getting closer. He knows where we’re headed, Barlo. If I were going to claim the power of the Stariquenya for myself, I would have done it by now. The Fallen One must know we are going to Melaquenya to bring his darkest fear to life. He will throw everything he has in our path to try to stop us.”

“I’m sorry I questioned your decision,” Barlo said. “I forget how much is at stake for you.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Iarion smiled. “I need a practical dwarf to talk sense to me and force me to think about my choices.”

“Well as the practical dwarf, I say we wait here until dawn. We can take shifts repeating the code. You must know it by now. If they haven’t answered by the time the sun is rising, I don’t think they’re going to answer at all and we might as well make for the Southern Passage.”

Iarion sighed. “I suppose you’re ri—”

A sudden movement in the grass cut Iarion’s words short. He sprang to his feet, drawing his knife. Barlo planted himself beside him, baring his ax. Sinstari went down into a defensive crouch.

For a moment, Barlo thought he was seeing things in the growing dark. He blinked several times, but nothing changed. A dark hole yawned open before them. The door had opened.

–
Chapter Forty-Three –

News from the South

Barlo held his ax ready. A young dwarf with a black beard and green eyes popped his head out of the opening.

“Lorugo!” Barlo cried out in surprise, lowering his ax. “By the First Father’s beard, you gave us a fright.”

Barlo greeted the dwarf who had led them to Dwarfhaven from Belierumar. He realized he had lapsed into Dwarvish. He didn’t bother to translate for Iarion. The elf knew enough of the language to follow along.

“Sorry,” Lorugo said. “Everyone was taking so long to decide whether we should open the door. I am the only one here who knows you, and I know how important your quest is, so I decided to come up and have a look for myself to see if it was really you. They are all so busy arguing, none of them noticed when I left.”

“What does Chief Galhalga have to say?” Barlo asked.

“My uncle has not returned to our halls.”

Barlo frowned. “It seems there is much to discuss.”

Lorugo looked around. “That is true, but not out here in the open. I have already left the door open too long. Come inside before unfriendly eyes find us here.” He stepped back to allow them to climb down. His eyes widened in fright at the sight of Sinstari.

“Don’t worry,” Barlo said. “He’s a friend.”

Lorugo did not look convinced, but allowed the cat to jump through the opening. Lorugo climbed down last, closing and locking the door above him.

They were back in the guardroom below the surface. The two guards nodded as Lorugo and the others passed. Lorugo waited until they were in the tunnels leading back to Dwarfhaven before speaking.

“They think I was ordered to let you in,” he said, switching back to Common. “Much has happened since you left. I should tell you now before we get back to the city. All the dwarves left are gathered there, arguing about you. They will not be happy when we show up.”

Barlo was right at home in the small tunnel, but Iarion had already broken out in a sweat. It would do the elf good to take his mind off their current surroundings.

“Go ahead,” Barlo said. “We haven’t had much in the way of news lately.”

“After the battle for Belierumar, the dark army waited in the Southern Passage, licking their wounds. They eventually got themselves organized and made another attempt. Many of our side died defending the city, but they managed to hold it.

“After several days of a stalemate, two Forsworn Ones arrived. Rather than taking the city, as we expected, they led their army away, heading south. Once we realized they were bypassing Belierumar for Melaquenya, the city was abandoned to try to block them at the Narrow Pass. That was several days ago. We have had no word since. We do not know who holds the city now.” A long silence followed Lorugo’s words.

“We are running out of time,” Iarion said. “Those Forsworn Ones must know we have the Stariquenya. They are trying to cut us off from Melaquenya.”

“You should rest before moving on,” Lorugo said. “I can find a place to hide you while the others are still arguing.”

“We have rested enough already,” Iarion said, shaking his head. Barlo’s spirits sank at the elf’s words. He was missing his own halls and was hoping for some dwarven hospitality, but he knew Iarion was right. He stifled a sigh.

“Where will you go?” Lorugo asked.

“We must avoid the dark army at all costs,” Iarion said. “If only the
Rasadar
had helped us. We would be at Melaquenya by now.” Iarion’s fists were clenched in frustration. “We will travel directly south from here toward Melaralva. Perhaps my people will have more news.”

“Do you need any supplies?”

“No, we are still well stocked,” Iarion said.

“Very good.” Lorugo nodded. “We are about to enter the main hallway now. We will need to use it for a few moments until I can take you down a side passage. I do not know how inconspicuous we can make you, but most of the dwarves are probably still arguing in the great hall. You should raise your hoods and stick to the shadows behind me.” He flashed a nervous look at Sinstari. “It will be better for you if the others do not know you were here until you have left, or they will delay you.”

Iarion took a moment to whisper some words in Elvish to the cat before raising his hood. Sinstari padded over to the shadows along the wall. Dwarfhaven was only half-lit at this time of night. Sinstari melded into the darkness.

Once both Barlo and Iarion raised their hoods, Lorugo led them onward. The city felt empty. Many dwarves had already gone off to join the war, leaving the young and the elderly behind. They only came across a few younger dwarves along the way. They caught one look of warning from Lorugo and scurried past without comment.

Passing the audience hall was the most nerve-racking. Their path along the main hall went right past it. Barlo could hear the older dwarves arguing in their own tongue. They were still debating whether to open their secret door.

Barlo shook his head in disbelief. Then he remembered these were the dwarves who had doomed their clans for giving refuge to Hilgur. They had only just rejoined the rest of Lasniniar from their resulting exile. Barlo supposed he couldn’t blame them for wanting to be cautious.

They traveled the main hall without incident. Shortly after they passed the audience hall, Lorugo led them through a series of side streets. They encountered no one.

With several winding turns, they finally reached the front gate. The guards seemed surprised to see Lorugo at such a late hour with strangers in tow, but they were both young and gave way to the slightly older dwarf without question. They were so busy staring at Barlo and Iarion’s cloaked forms, Sinstari passed unnoticed.

“May the First Father watch over you on your journey,” Lorugo said once they were outside the city.

“Thank you for helping us,” Barlo said. “Maybe you should come with us. The cost of your aid might be high. The Earth Elves at Melaralva would welcome you. If you wanted, I could also send word to Dwarvenhome for them to take you in there.”

“Thank you, but no.” Lorugo shook his head. “My uncle wants me here. I think he knew I might have to do some things the others would not like. He told me if I ever saw any of your group again, I was to help you without question. He must have known what would happen with only the young and the elderly left behind. I will suffer the consequences. It is the Dwarfhaven way.” He gave them a rueful smile.

“Thank you, Lorugo.” Iarion clasped the dwarf’s arm. “You have helped us when others have turned us away. What you have done for us could very well change the fate of Lasniniar.” The young dwarf blushed.

“I will never hear anyone call your people traitors again!” Barlo vowed, feeling shame for all the times he had called them such himself.

Lorugo waved before turning toward home. Now it was just the two of them once more. Well, the three of them, Barlo supposed, if you counted the cat.

Midnight was approaching. The sky was clear. It was good to be in a place where you could see everything around you and not walk around in circles—as much as a dwarf could see in the dark, anyway. But the air was still cool for so early in the season. Barlo didn’t like to think about what that might mean.

Iarion started walking south without hesitation.

“We do not stop until we reach Melaralva,” he said. “I don’t want to be caught out here in the open. If we keep going all through the night, we should get there by midmorning.”

Barlo stifled a sigh. Iarion had become increasingly quiet and distant as they traveled. He didn’t like it one bit. Their quest had almost become an obsession for him.

“Maybe we can find someone else at Melaralva who can take the Stariquenya the rest of the way,” the dwarf said, trying to sound casual.

Iarion stopped and gave him a confused look. “What are you talking about? I’m going to take it to Melaquenya. This is my quest.”

“Iarion, you heard what Lorugo said. The dark army has moved south. They could have Melaquenya surrounded by now! We have already brought the Stariquenya this far. Maybe it’s time for someone else to take it from here. It has to be an elf, so maybe someone from Melaralva will volunteer.”

“This is my quest!
My
task.” Iarion’s strange eyes flashed in the darkness. Barlo took a step back before standing his ground.