The Ventifact Colossus (The Heroes of Spira Book 1) (22 page)

Thank the Goddess for the holds of ships.

She slept for a time but was woken by the pain; her skin felt like burnt paper. She sat up and found herself seated upon a sack of grain. The ship rocked gently, her companions resting quietly nearby. Aravia was reading a book; Grey Wolf was sharpening his sword with a strop.

Five feet away, lying on a jury-rigged cot of bedrolls and packing crates, was Dranko, asleep. His chest rose and fell.

“You’re awake!” Ernie’s skin was an angry color, but there was relief in his smile.

She nodded but couldn’t stop staring at Dranko. “We’re going back to Tal Hae?”

“That’s right,” said Grey Wolf. “Cost us the last of our money. We’re lucky we had enough after paying the healers to patch up Tor and fix Tig’s hand.”

Grey Wolf’s various wounds were still wrapped in bloody bandages.
He
hadn’t been the beneficiary of any channeling. Morningstar would have just as happily lopped Tig’s head off once he had served his purpose, but the Goddess only knew what Ernie would have said to that.

“What about
him
?” she asked.

“Not sure,” said Grey Wolf. “Been in and out of sleep. Hasn’t said anything.”

For two hours she stared at Dranko, trying to reach a state of inner peace. It was difficult with her skin on fire. It hurt where her clothing brushed it. It hurt when she moved. It hurt just from sitting there watching the goblin snore. She couldn’t decide if her pain and anger were fairly directed at him, and she didn’t much care.

Finally Dranko coughed and his eyes opened. He tried sitting up, failed twice, and gave up. “I always thought the afterlife would smell less like a bait-house,” he croaked from his back.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” said Grey Wolf. He paused while Dranko coughed some more.

“We’re on a ship,” Dranko said when he had recovered.

“Observant as ever,” said Grey Wolf.

“Last I remember, I was suffocating to death. How is it that I’m still alive?”

“Morningstar is how,” said Grey Wolf, looking at her with a grim smile. “You should start thinking now about how you’re going to thank her. She saved your life.”

Dranko attempted again to sit, and this time he succeeded, though it precipitated another long hacking fit. She looked at him, at his hideous scarred face, and said nothing.

There aren’t enough thanks in the world.

Dranko looked back at her. “She did, huh?”

Morningstar shrugged, and her shoulders burned. Goddess, but it hurt even to shrug.

“I remember falling into the desert. How could you possibly have found me, let alone dug me up? The moon had set, and the sky was clouding up, so there wasn’t even that much star-shine.”

Morningstar sighed. “I see in the dark, remember?”

“The rest of us couldn’t see anything,” said Ernie. “But Morningstar saw your flying leap, and your rope come loose, and your fall into the sand.”

“How did you get me out?” asked Dranko. “I must have fallen in twenty feet at least.”

“More like ten,” said Morningstar. “But you helped save yourself, wrapping your rope around your arm like that. I saw the rope sticking out of the sand, and we used it to pull you out.”

“I did? I don’t remember doing that, but it’s the sort of clever thing I’d have thought of.”

“The hardest part was getting you back to Sand’s Edge,” said Ernie. “You were out cold the entire time, and barely breathing. We rigged up a litter using the sheet from Morningstar’s kit, and the three of us each took a corner and hauled you along the surface of the desert.”

Aravia looked up from her book. “And that wasn’t the worst part. The first island had drifted too far away from the straightest-line path back to Sand’s Edge. We ended up dragging you for fourteen hours, and more than half of that was after sunrise.”

Could Dranko understand what that desert march had done to her? The Mouth of Nahalm had breathed its relentless light and heat over her, the sun searing its mark on her like a flaming brand. What Ellish part of her could have survived? Was the Goddess punishing her, just as She had punished her with her hair and her name and her skin? Dranko had made the argument that Ell must have a higher purpose in store for her, but what if this constant punishment
was
the purpose?

She stared into Dranko’s eyes, showing him her pain, and he closed his own.

“Look,” he said, “I’m beyond grateful that you came to rescue me. And I don’t doubt that hauling me across the desert was about as fun as sticking your head in a forge. There were about three different times out there I thought I was a dead man, but here I am, thanks to you, with nothing more than sand in my lungs.”

Morningstar listened as Dranko told his tale, the goblin pausing every minute or two to cough and gulp down more water. When the story reached the moment where Dranko had been lowered into the main vault, he stopped. Grey Wolf leaned in, impatient. “What? What did you see?”

“I don’t know exactly. It was a statue. A big statue of a…I don’t know, a demon, maybe? About ten feet tall, wings, claws, fangs, the works. All made out of red-orange marble. But it was more than that. It was…horrible. The whole time I was in there with it, I got the sense that it was about to come to life and tear me apart. A literal sense. This was
real.
That statue is magical, a bad, bad thing, and now bad people have it. We have to tell Abernathy.”

Abernathy. Oh, how Morningstar hated him right now. If not for the wizard’s meddling, she’d have walked out on this collection of misfits and not looked back. Instead, she had been backed into this accursed sunlit corner. But the practical bit of her mind still had some say, and she agreed that Abernathy might know what the statue was and what it portended.

“Dranko, let me see if I understand you.” Grey Wolf’s voice brimmed with contempt. “You were down in the vault with this…thing. And you thought it was dangerous. And you were about to flee for your life. Couldn’t you have tried to smash it or something?”

Dranko coughed out a harsh laugh. “I forgot to borrow Kibi’s hammer and chisel. And no, I couldn’t have. I could barely make myself look at it. If I had dared lift a finger against it, it would have…would have…I don’t know. Something awful.”

“It was a statue,” said Grey Wolf. “Did it show any
actual
signs of coming to life, or were you just afraid that it would? Dammit, Dranko, we’ll have put two weeks into this trip, not to mention all the blood and the sweat and having to sleep in a Gods-damned ship’s hold, and all we’ve gotten from it is that you discovered they were hauling out a statue from a floating rock?”

Dranko opened his mouth to protest, but Grey Wolf wasn’t finished.

“You are so Gods-damned worthless!” he raged. “You’re a coward, a drunkard, and the one time we really needed you, you sat there like a drooling idiot while Mrs. Horn bled to death. At least she found herbs to help Morningstar while you were laughing off her pain and telling us you were saving your miraculous channeling for something more serious. Remember that, goblin? It should have been you with your Gods-damned neck bitten.”

As much as Morningstar hated Dranko right now, she was shocked at Grey Wolf’s venom. Dranko stared back at him. “Are you done?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Have you screwed anything else up that you haven’t told us about?”

“Grey Wolf, go easy on him, will you?” said Ernie, his voice crackling like he was about to cry. “I…I believe him about the statue. It was certainly the whole point of these cultists being out there in the first place! It could be valuable just to know about it.”

Ernie would bend over backward to see the best in just about anyone, which was a charming but not particularly useful trait.

“What about Eyes of Moirel?” Morningstar asked. “Abernathy thought they might have found one. Did you see anything that looked like a magical gemstone?”

“No, just the statue. I might have snooped around some more, but I kind of ran out of time.” Dranko smiled bitterly at Grey Wolf. “My good friend Mr. Wolf here can think what he wants, but I wasn’t ‘about to flee.’ While I was down in the vault, that fourth guy you saw back at Sand’s Edge showed up. He must have found the carnage we left in the recruitment office and force-marched himself out to the island to warn Lapis. Who’s a wizard, by the way. She nearly blasted my head off with some kind of…whatever it is that Aravia does. Arcing.”

“I’m glad you’re alive,” said Ernie.

“Me too,” said Dranko.

“Still wasn’t worth it,” said Grey Wolf. “You saw what they were up to, but now they know someone’s on to them.”

“Oh, come on, Grey Wolf.” Dranko had finally cleared his lungs out. “They already knew. It was Praska who outed them. If anything, these Black Circle people should be pissed off at Mokad now. Especially after I told Lapis that Mokad was holding out on her about an Eye of Moirel.”

Dranko lay back down and closed his eyes.

* * *

That night, asleep in a makeshift hammock that rocked to the ocean’s sway, Morningstar dreamed a Seer-dream that made no sense.

She floats high above the ground. Below her are seven giants arrayed in a circle, their arms locked together. They are massive, steady creatures, disinclined to move. But they are weeping, their tears falling silently to the dust.

Morningstar descends to see more clearly. The giants mourn for seven dead mice, their bodies lying broken and still in the center of their circle. She senses the giants’ immeasurable sadness as they stand their silent vigil.

All at once a brilliant white light shines from the giants’ eyes, and Morningstar does not flinch. The seven mice spring to life and run in a little circle of their own, a circle within a circle. The giants rejoice, but a minute later their eyes flash again and the mice drop dead, dead a second time, and this time their bodies become dust. The giants close their eyes and turn to stone, their watch ended at last.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

ERNIE FOUND A large wooden crate waiting for him at the Greenhouse.

“I bet it’s from my parents. They promised me care packages once I got settled in.”

Not that he was feeling very settled. He had been nervous enough on that first day, when Abernathy had summoned him. But the things that had happened since…Pikon’s pancakes, but it had all been so horrible. Poor Mrs. Horn, dying in a pool of blood, and all the dead bodies in Verdshane. The terrifying fight against the cultists in Sand’s Edge. And then, almost as awful as Mrs. Horn’s death, there was Morningstar’s decision to mutilate a prisoner to get information. He had been standing
right there!
If he closed his eyes, he could hear the sound of Tig’s finger bones breaking.

And Morningstar hadn’t shown any remorse, even afterward! She considered it just part of the business of saving the world, and maybe she was right, but it made Ernie squirm to think about. They were the Heroes, and torture was the practice of Villains. But Grey Wolf and Dranko, they didn’t have any problem with it, and neither did Tor and Aravia, not really. Sure, it made them uncomfortable, but they were happy to let Morningstar be the heavy. Among his companions, only Kibi properly shared his distress. Not that the stonecutter had made a big deal out of it. Kibi was quiet and tended to keep his opinions to himself. But Ernie had seen the shock in his eyes, the color draining from his face, when Morningstar had brought down her mace.

Maybe something from Mom would cheer him up. He dragged his package into the living room and levered off the lid with Pyknite
.
The others were sitting and relaxing, most of them with wine glasses, while Eddings fussed and made sure everyone was comfortable. Tor was stretched out on a couch, a thick white bandage still wrapped around his thigh and over his wounded hip. Dranko said he was a fast healer. Aravia had gone to the secret room straight away, but the crystal ball was answered by Mister Golem, so now there was nothing to do but wait for Abernathy to get back to them.

Grey Wolf chuckled. “Mommy send you a blanket?”

Ernie reddened and pretended not to have heard. He found a piece of paper resting atop the straw padding that protected the crate’s contents.

“Let me guess,” said Dranko. “You’re secretly a priest, and someone from your church has ominous news. That seems to be the pattern around here.”

Ernie scanned the letter. “No, I was right, it’s from Mom and Dad. They sent me some wool socks, and an extra jacket, and Mom copied some recipes down for me.” (There was also a thick woolen blanket along with his favorite stuffed bear, Bumbly, but he wasn’t about to admit to those in front of Grey Wolf.) “But she said they got the golden ring off that statue of me in Murgy’s basement, and it’s in here somewhere.”

“Your what?” asked Dranko.

“Didn’t I tell you about that?”

“You told us there was a mysterious statue of you in a neighbor’s cellar,” said Dranko. “But what’s this about gold?”

“Oh. There was a gold ring around one of my fingers,” said Ernie. “I mean, the statue’s finger. Murgy said he’d have it sent to me once they figured out how to get it off without damaging the statue. I guess they did.”

He rummaged around near the bottom of the crate and found what he was looking for in the folds of the blanket. It was a golden band, a fat gold ring sized for a giant, but to Ernie it seemed perfectly suited as a bracelet. There were tiny runes etched into its polished surface. He held it up.

“Hey, hey!” said Dranko. “Looks like Ernie’s acquired us some additional capital. Good thing; we’re out of cash.”

“Where did you get that?” Kibi leapt from his chair, spilling his wine, and stared at the golden circlet with an expression of utter bewilderment. “How…how in the Gods’ good names…”

It was shocking to see Kibi so distraught. He had always seemed so calm, so soft-spoken. Had he raised his voice even once since they met? This was by far the most emotional Ernie had seen him; his reaction to the gold bracelet was shock bordering on panic.

Ernie lifted the piece of jewelry and held it out to Kibi with a puzzled expression. “Do you know what this is?”

“’Course I do!” Kibi practically shouted. “I seen that piece a’ gold every day a’ my life! It belongs to my mother, and it’s got to stay with her! How did it come to be here?”

That made no sense. “It can’t be,” Ernie said.

Kibi put out his hand, and Ernie handed over the bracelet. “It is!” Kibi cried, running one hand agitatedly through his hair. “Same size, same crazy runes, and not a scratch on it. I don’t know what it was doin’ in your hometown, Ernie, but I got to get this here back to my ma.”

Ernie took the bracelet back. “Kibi, it can’t be the same one. This wasn’t just ‘in my hometown.’ It was on a statue that must have been buried underground for hundreds of years.”

“There must be two of them.” Aravia stood and walked over to join Ernie and Kibi. “Either identical or close enough that you couldn’t tell them apart. What do the runes say?”

“How should I know?” said Ernie. “They aren’t normal letters.”

Aravia leaned in and scrutinized the thing while Ernie held it out. “I don’t recognize them either,” she admitted.

Kibi was so distraught he tugged on his beard, but Aravia must be right about there being duplicates. “If this
did
belong to your mother, why is it so important that she get it back?”

“Well, that’s a strange thing now,” said Kibi. The stonecutter looked almost imploringly at Aravia, surely hoping the wizardess was correct, but his voice remained agitated. “The way my father, Bim, always tells it, is that he was up in the high hills, clearin’ the trail between Eggoggin and Marhold. There’d just been an avalanche, see, and trade was fairly well stymied. Anyway, my father was leverin’ rocks and trees off the trail when he looks down into this valley, and there was a young woman in a green dress, just sittin’ on top of a pile a’ debris, calm as anything, and beautiful as a polished emerald. Dad figured she must a’ fallen down there from the trail, so he clambered down to help her out. He was always a gallant one for the ladies, to hear him tell it.

“The lass was fine, no injuries, not even dust on her dress. But she couldn’t remember nothin’ about how she got there, or who her family was, or anything about anything. Just her name—Gela. And she had a golden bracelet on her wrist. Said she didn’t know what it was, but that is was vital that she never take it off. Said she’d die if she weren’t wearin’ it, though she couldn’t say what made her think it.

“Dad figured she got knocked on the head, probably out walkin’ during the avalanche. He took her back to Eggoggin and took care of her, waitin’ for her memories to come back. But they never did, and no one ever came along who knew who she was. Somethin’ had erased all her memories of her past, but it never seemed to bother her none. Eventually she and Dad got married, and she became Gela dun Bim, and they had a son, who you all are lookin’ at.”

He pointed at the golden bracelet in Ernie’s hand. “And every day a’ my life, that there bangle has been around my ma’s wrist. Or maybe, like Aravia says, and what I hope more than hope, one that only looks just like it.”

“What were the chances of that?” Tor exclaimed. “Abernathy’s spell picks a bunch of random people, and two of you have the same circlet? It seems impossible!”

“No,” said Aravia. “I think it was quite likely. You’re just confusing causality. Abernathy’s spell picked Ernie and Kibi
because
of that connection. That piece of jewelry must have some great significance. We just don’t know what it is yet.”

Ernie turned to Eddings. “Mr. Eddings, can you send a letter to Kibi’s parents, asking if they still have his mom’s gold circlet?”

“If I know the address, then certainly, Master Roundhill.”

Well, wasn’t that interesting! The arrival of the statue’s ring had prompted Kibi to reveal more about himself in two minutes than he had in three weeks. Ernie felt a sudden camaraderie now with the bearded gentleman, a shared mystery about their pasts. Someone had placed the gold band on the statue; was it the same person who had given Kibi’s mom its twin? And Abernathy may not know anything about why a stone likeness of Ernie was buried beneath his hometown, but magic, as he was learning, worked in mysterious ways. Now at least he had a possible explanation for why he had been chosen, an old secret, an enigmatic artifact, and a connection to a stonecutter’s family.

The shrieking warble of the crystal ball sounded from upstairs.

“Gods,” said Dranko. “You’d think the most powerful wizard in the world could find a more pleasant sound for that.”

“Why would he want to?” asked Aravia, as the whole group sprang to their feet and headed for the stairs. “Look at the hurry we’re in to make it stop.”

Dranko did most of the talking for the first few minutes, taking Abernathy through his discoveries atop the island that drifted through the Mouth of Nahalm. Abernathy’s pale and anxious face grew downright ashen as Dranko described the disturbing statue being unearthed by the Black Circle. Ernie gulped, not enjoying the thought of anything that would worry an archmage like that.

“Do you know what the statue was?” he asked when Dranko was done.

“And who is the sage?” added Dranko. “Lapis sure made it sound like that’s the person in charge.”

Abernathy’s face tightened, as though he was remembering something unpleasant. “Remember, I’ve not been keeping up on recent events. I don’t know who the sage is. But the statue sounds like a Blood Gargoyle. We thought they had all been destroyed but…it’s…well, it’s beyond your ability to handle. Also I doubt it’s meant for you, so don’t worry any more about it.”

Abernathy gave what appeared to be a reassuring smile, but Ernie knew better. Ernie knew that expression because of how often he made it himself. Abernathy was putting on a brave face, but inside he was terrified. Which in turn made
him
terrified.

“Listen carefully,” said the old wizard. “Thanks to Dranko’s gambit with Lapis, not only can I make some preparations regarding the gargoyle, but we also know the Sharshun are still keenly interested in the Eyes of Moirel. My next task for you is to go to the Seven Mirrors in time for Flashing Day, which is just over a week away. It’s a near certainty the Sharshun will try something, especially if they think Mokad has an Eye. Be ready for anything.”

Abernathy paused, though he obviously had more to say. His lips moved as if he was rehearsing a speech, and he took a deep breath. “At our last meeting I mentioned something called the Crosser’s Maze, which I and some of my associates feel is our best bet to make Naradawk’s prison a permanent one. What I did not tell you is that the primary impediment to retrieving it is that it lies on a continent called Kivia, on the far side of the accurately named Uncrossable Sea.”

“I can see how that would be a problem,” said Dranko.

“But there
is
a way across it, or at least there was, long ago,” said Abernathy. “During Naloric’s long reign of terror he acquired allies from Kivia, armies of fire-worshippers, and these did not cross the sea. Rather, their forces had arrived through a large enchanted archway hidden in the forest near the very tip of the Balani Peninsula. We surmise that the archway has a twin in Kivia, and that the Kivians had a way of activating them such that they connected the two kingdoms. But by the time we found the arch on our side, it was inert, no more than a free-standing sculpture in a large trampled-down clearing.

“The Kivian Arch was the subject of much study and scrutiny in the following years, but our finest wizards and sages could not figure out how to turn it back on. After the war King Garos had a significant military detachment stationed nearby, should the Kivians attempt a second invasion, but King Argis after him disbanded that force. Claimed it was an unnecessary drain on the treasury.

“Over the years, one of my fellow archmagi, Ozella, has had agents of her own down there on the peninsula, just to keep an eye on the Kivian Arch. The most recent of these is a fellow named Levec who’s been living in the town closest to the arch, a peaceful little hamlet called Seablade Point. Levec sent Ozella brief updates like clockwork, once every month for more than a hundred months in a row—until two months ago.”

Ernie’s voice was almost a whisper. “What do you think happened to him?”