Chapter 9:

The Endeavor

*

Sedder was con­siderably more shaken than he let on, and as they traveled out of Dalizar, his mind kept drifting back to the last conversation he had with Keolah. She’d been so smooth and casual about the whole thing, but he could recog­nize a deadly threat when he saw one. Even though he’d been invis­ible and hidden some­where in the middle of a sizeable city in a place they’d never visited, she’d flaw­lessly tracked him down in minutes. No matter where Sedder went, he knew he’d never be able to hide from her. He definitely did not want to get on her bad side. Fortunately, their inclinations and goals seemed to be aligned.

Despite Delven’s mis­givings, the party returned to Starton to see about hiring a vessel to take them to Zar­hanna. Zen­dellor had taken on human form before they entered town this time, having had no desire to make a long sea jour­ney as a horse.

According to their maps, the Valley of Gal was located inland, in the north of the gnomish country of Mithim, at the eastern edge of the con­tinent of Zar­hanna. prac­tically half a world away. Despite that, the general mood of the group was ex­citement. Of them all, only Silver and Sedder him­self seemed sub­dued, al­though Silver still seemed happy. For his part, Sedder was just waiting on a chance to privately con­tact Sardill and fill him in on what was going on. He hadn’t dared pull out his mind crys­tal while they were traveling through Dalizar and camping or sleeping closely together, and he wasn’t sure he’d get a chance by him­self aboard ship any­time soon, either.

“Alright, fine,” Delven said as they app­roached the Starton docks. “If we’re going to do this, let me do the talking, al­right?”

“I don’t speak Fly­lish, any­way,” Keolah said. “Although we do have that amulet.”

“It’s not that,” Delven said. “And I’m sure most of the ship cap­tains around here speak the common tongue any­way. It’s that you’re elves.”

“I thought the Fly­landers didn’t really have a prob­lem with elves,” Keolah said.

“They don’t, by and large, but that doesn’t mean they like them all that much,” Delven said.

“I’ll take your word on that,” Keolah said. “Although why some­one might dislike elves and still be sailing to elven lands is beyond me.”

After asking a few people for dir­ec­tions, a ship cap­tain was pointed out to them, and they app­roached him. He was a mus­cular, bald human man with a tan aura.

“Excuse me,” Delven said in the common tongue. “We’re looking to book passage on a ship.”

“You’ve come to the right man, then. Name’s William Cooper, cap­tain of the Endeavor. Call me Billy. Where you heading?”

“We want to get to Dherdem,” Delven said.

Billy snorted in amusement. “You need new maps, mate. Dherdem fell into the sea fifty years ago. You’ll be wanting Habag, now.”

“Oh,” Delven said dumbly. “What happened?”

Billy shrugged. “Hell if I know. They’re gnomes. They prob­ably did some­thing stupid, like they always do.”

“So, can you take us there?” Delven asked.

Billy peered crit­ically at Delven, and scanned over the others. “How many you got?”

“Six,” Delven said.

“Eh, guess I can do six,” Billy said.

“Also a floka,” Delven said.

Billy snorted softly. “Fine, the giant turkey can come, too. But you’re bringing your own bird­seed.”

Delven negotiated a price for passage, and al­though it was exor­bitant, Billy was willing to accommodate them. In a few days, they boarded the Endeavor and set sail to Zar­hanna.

“This type of ship is called a schooner,” Delven told them, leaning against the rail and watching Starton fade into the dis­tance behind them.

“What’s it called in elvish?” Keolah won­dered.

“Dunno,” Delven said. “I’m not sure whether the elves even have com­parable ship classes, any­way. For all I know, they just grow their ships and make them move with magic.”

“Probably,” Keolah said.

“Meh, who cares, any­way,” Haw­thorne said. “Teach me how to cuss in Fly­lish.”

Delven snorted softly. “What happened to learning common?”

“Screw that,” Haw­thorne said. “We’re going to Zar­hanna. Nobody in Zar­hanna is going to speak common. Besides, I have this shiny new amulet. I don’t have to actually learn… common, Fly­lish, or Tevric, app­ar­ently. It’s also got Zarhian in it, but I already know Zarhian any­way.”

Delven peered at the amulet. “How does that thing even work, any­way? How does it know which lan­guage you’re try­ing to speak?”

“Hell if I know how it does what it does,” Haw­thorne said. “But see here? It’s got little letters written on the edge. You channel a little bit of mana into one of them to ac­­tiv­ate it. F, T, Z, and K that I assume is common, and the null letter to turn it off.”

“The elvish alpha­bet has a letter for ‘nothing’?” Delven asked.

“Well, yeah, of course,” Haw­thorne said. “I thought you spoke elvish?”

“I can speak it,” Delven said. “I’ve rarely had cause to need to be able to read it. Bards mostly still follow oral trad­itions.”

“Beats reading,” Haw­thorne said. “Delven! Play us some music. You know, some­thing suitable for starting off on a grand ad­ven­ture across the sea!”

“Sure, I think I know a few suitable things,” Delven said. “Did you ever think about learning to play an instrument? Maybe the drum?”

“Hmm, a drum wouldn’t be too hard, would it,” Haw­thorne said. “You just hit stuff repeatedly, right?”

Once Delven had his lute out and started enter­taining Haw­thorne, Sedder took the oppor­tunity to slip down to the cabin that had been provided for him, Delven, Silver, and Zen­dellor. It was going to be an uncom­fortable jour­ney, and Sedder already hated the water.

Sedder wished he didn’t have to focus so much to use tele­pathy. Mind Magic was hard for him. Pure-blooded teppers had it so easy. He kind of envied them for it. Once he’d checked that the door was secure, he pulled out his thought crys­tal and es­tab­lished a connection to Sardill.

<My lord,> Sedder tepped.

<Sedder.> The hooded face appeared in his mind, but the glowing red eyes were dark and his men­tal voice sounded odd.

<My lord, are you al­right?> Sedder won­dered.

<Fine,> Sardill rep­lied. <Report.>

<I’ve just boarded a ship leaving Starton en route to eastern Zar­hanna,> Sedder tepped.

<Where’s Silver?> Sardill asked. <Is Silver with you?>

<Yes,> Sedder con­firmed. <He—>

<Stick with him.> Sardill paused. <Wait. Where did you say you were going?>

<The Valley of Gal,> Sedder tepped.

<That’s quite the trip,> Sardill commented, his thoughts sluggish and words slurred. <Who are you with and what are they looking for?>

Sedder listed the names of his com­panions. <Keolah wants to find the old magic books written by the League of Wizards.>

<Ah,> Sardill tepped. <A worthy cause. Keep with it. Let me know if you find any­thing.>

<My lord, are you drunk?> Sedder asked.

Sardill was quiet for a long moment. <Yes.>

<Sorry if I’ve inter­rupted some­thing enter­taining,> Sedder tepped.

Sardill men­tally snorted. <No, nothing enter­taining. Don’t worry about inter­rupting me. Contact me again an­other time and tell me every­thing you learned about Dalizar and what your com­panions’ plans and intentions are.>

<Yes, my lord,> Sedder rep­lied.

*

“You have a fine ship here,” Haw­thorne told Billy. “Well. I think it’s a fine ship, at any rate. I don’t really know any­thing about ships.”

Billy snickered. “Take my word for it, she’s totally a fine ship.”

“I saw a very odd ship back in Hanna­derres,” Keolah said. “A gnomish steam­ship.”

Billy snorted. “Ugh. Those things. They think they can go fast. They think they can rep­lace us. Let me tell you, all my ship needs to sail is the wind. No mana or coal.”

“What happens if you don’t get any wind?” Haw­thorne won­dered.

“Then you lot are rowing,” Billy said.

Haw­thorne snorted softly. She might be a Wind Mage, but there was no way she could affect some­thing as big as a ship’s sails. Surely there must be other Wind Mages who could do that, though. The stories she grew up on told of mighty Wind Mages who could fill up sails and change the weather, bringing rain to the farmers, fair weather to the towns, and calling down storms upon their enemies. Haw­thorne didn’t know any Wind Mages capable of doing those things, al­though she’d heard of some kid from Lolonder village who could blow up a serious gale.

Much as Haw­thorne was enjoying the sea voyage, she didn’t like or trust the crew. The crew numbered six­teen, and they were all men, every one of them. And they ogled her when they thought she wasn’t looking, and often­times didn’t even bother waiting until her back was turned to start making lewd comments about her. Haw­thorne wasn’t used to being ogled by men. Why couldn’t any of them be sexy sailor ladies to look at? Oh well, at least she had Keolah, and they’d been cour­teous enough to give the two elven women their own tiny cabin. It still didn’t feel like much privacy, though, even after they’d gotten Sedder to sound-ward it.

“Delven,” Haw­thorne whis­pered. “Do you think Sedder has been behaving… odd?”

Delven nodded. “It’s like he’s try­ing too hard some­times. I don’t know.”

Haw­thorne frowned. Sedder had locked him­self in his cabin again. Time to find out just what he did in his spare time. Haw­thorne knew some Wind Mages could man­ip­ulate locks to get them to open neatly, but she’d never learned how to do that. She could, how­ever, sim­ply break the lock. It was not the least bit sub­tle and made it in­credibly obvious the room had been broken into, but right now, she didn’t care.

With a loud crack, the lock broke and the door slammed open. In the center of the small room, Sedder was sitting cross-legged. His eyes snapped open at them with a look of panic, and he hurriedly tried to hide some­thing in his hand. Haw­thorne lunged over and grabbed his wrist in a death grip, and pried a violet crys­tal from his hand.

“Haw­thorne, what are you doing?” Keolah asked, coming down the corridor.

“What is this?” Haw­thorne won­dered, holding up the crys­tal.

“It’s a crys­tal enchanted with Mind Magic,” Keolah said. “He’s had that since we left Scalyr. I didn’t really think much of it at the time. I thought he was just using it to store mem­ories or some­thing.”

Sedder gave her a hope­ful glance, which in­stantly faded when Delven opened his mouth.

“Ohh, I think I’ve seen one of those before,” Delven said, peering over her shoulder. “It’s a communication crys­tal.”

Haw­thorne glared over at Sedder. “Who have you been communicating with?”

Sedder stammered. “Look, I didn’t—”

“Have you been spying on us?” Haw­thorne snarled. “Was this whole in­fat­uation with Silver business just a ruse to get close to us? You were listening the whole time I was talking to him in the tavern, weren’t you.”

“I can ex­plain—” Sedder tried.

Haw­thorne strode out onto the deck and hurled the crys­tal as far as she could off the side of the ship. With a soft splash, it sunk beneath the waves, the magenta glow still vis­ible for a few moments before vanishing com­pletely.

“You should feel lucky that I don’t throw you over­board, too!” Haw­thorne growled. “You sneaky, lying, betraying peasant.”

“What’s going on here?” Billy stomped up on deck. “You broke my door!”

“Sorry about her,” Keolah said. “I’ll repair your door.”

“See to it you do, or I’m charging you for it,” Billy said. “And I want that to be looking like a normal sodding door when you’re done, too, and not magic elf shit.”

Haw­thorne hauled Sedder to the deck railing. He didn’t even bother struggling. He had to realize he had no­where to run.

“And don’t break the railing, either!” Billy called.

“Maybe he was just talking to his boyfriend back in Scalyr and didn’t want Silver to know,” Keolah said un­cer­tainly.

“Tell me and I might let you live.” Haw­thorne half-dangled Sedder over the railing.

“Mercy, please,” Sedder dir­ected to Keolah, clearly not ex­pecting any from Haw­thorne.

“Right, let him go,” Keolah said with a smirk. “He’s still use­ful to me.”

Haw­thorne gave a snort of dis­gust and pulled Sedder back from the railing with a sharp movement that sent him sprawling onto the deck against a large coil of rope. Grunting at the impact, his outline flickered for a moment, as if he were reflexively try­ing to turn him­self invis­ible to make his escape only to realize that wouldn’t help at all here. If he’d actually gone invis­ible, she might just kill him, if Keolah wouldn’t stop her.

“Yeah, why don’t we have a nice little chat some­where that no­body is going to be flinging any­one into the ocean,” Keolah said. “If you’re enjoying hauling him places, then haul him back to his room. I’ll work on the door while you interrogate him.”

Haw­thorne grinned toothily as she grabbed Sedder by the collar and shoved him back into the cabin. “Alright, sneak. Start talking. You said you can ex­plain. Now sit right down on that hammock and ex­plain.”

Looking ner­vously between Keolah and Haw­thorne, Sedder unsteadily took a seat on the hammock, off-balance, and al­most tumbled off.

Haw­thorne pinned him with a glare. “And if you’re con­sidering whether you want to tell us the truth, or concoct some story that might make me less in­clined to gut you, let me tell you right now that I’m not going to believe any innocent story after the way you’ve acted here.”

Sedder held up his hands, and al­most lost his balance again before grabbing the hammock. “Alright, al­right, I get the idea. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you every­thing. Alright?”

“I’m listening, half-elf,” Haw­thorne said.

Sedder took a deep breath, and said quietly, “I was talking to Sardill.”

Haw­thorne looked at him in puzzlement. “Should I know who that is?”

“The overlord of Fly­land,” Sedder said. “He saved my life when I was younger and held it over my head to press me into working for him. I’d been spying for him in Scalyr for years, just reporting any­thing ­in­ter­esting I saw, and es­pec­ially any­thing Silver was doing.”

“Why Silver?” Haw­thorne asked.

“Apparently the two of them were an ‘item’ at one point, so to speak,” Sedder said. “Sardill wanted to keep tab­s on his ex for some reason.”

“That’s a little creepy, but okay,” Haw­thorne said.

“This was never par­tic­ularly onerous or alarming up until recently, when he suddenly became very ­in­ter­ested in what you were doing and ordered me to come with you.”

“Understandable,” Keolah put in, glancing up from her wood-shaping magic. “I told her she should have been a little more discreet.”

Haw­thorne rolled her eyes. “So, what was this Sardill planning to do with that infor­mation? He intended to take our dis­coveries for him­self?”

“I don’t know,” Sedder said. “He didn’t tell me. He never tells me any­thing. But I’m sure he would have wanted to get his hands on it some­how, one way or an­other.”

“More immediately, what are you going to do now?” Haw­thorne asked.

Sedder sighed. “I wasn’t exactly going to turn on you any­time soon, if at all. He’d ordered me to help you, not hinder you. As for what­ever happens when we get back to Kalor, we can deal with that when we come to it. But we’re far away from Fly­land and getting further away from the day, and not likely to get back there any­time soon. And I think I owe you all.”

“Damned right, you do,” Haw­thorne said.

“I’m sure Silver is going to be very happy to learn all this, too,” Keolah commented.

Sedder winced. “Do you really have to tell him?”

“So you actually do have a crush on him?” Haw­thorne smirked. “That part wasn’t just a ruse?”

“Well…” Sedder flushed.

“He’s going to find out, you know,” Keolah said. “And Haw­thorne wasn’t exactly sub­tle about yelling at you and throwing you around the ship, either.”

“As cute as it is, after what you did, we don’t owe you any­thing,” Haw­thorne said.

Sedder sighed. “Didn’t think so.”

As if on cue, Silver poked his head into the room. “What’s going on here?”

Haw­thorne smirked, then said to Sedder, “I’ll leave it to you to ex­plain this.”

“Oh, come on…” Sedder muttered. “Damn it all.”

Haw­thorne headed out of the cabin, leaving him to it. She figured Keolah and Silver were more than capable of handling any stupid thing Sedder did, al­though she doubted he’d try any­thing here on the ship. She’d have to keep an eye on him once they made land to make sure he didn’t try to run off and hide.

“What was that all about?” Delven won­dered as she came out on deck again.

“Delven, I want you to tell me every­thing you know about Fly­land,” Haw­thorne said.

“That’s a big sub­ject, al­though I suppose we have nothing better to do for a while,” Delven said.

“Specifically, about Sardill,” Haw­thorne said.

“Oh?” Delven said. “Well, he lives in a castle of darkness and wears a black hooded robe every­where, and he has glowing red eyes.”

Haw­thorne snorted softly. “That’s not ominous or any­thing.”

“Nobody’s quite cer­tain just how old he is, either,” Delven said. “Legend has it that he sac­rifices babies or steals people’s souls or some­thing to main­tain his life. Fly­land has had a lot of wars with the rest of Kalor, and often­times Sardill sends his people to war for no reason app­ar­ent to any­one else.”

“This leaves me won­dering just what Silver saw in him,” Haw­thorne said.

Delven raised an eye­brow. “What do you mean?”

“Silver app­ar­ently used to be, ah, involved with him, according to Sedder,” Haw­thorne rep­lied.

Delven winced. “I wouldn’t say that too loudly, if I were you. Whether it’s true or not.”

“I guess,” Haw­thorne said. “I just don’t get it. How did we wind up falling in with these people?”

“We didn’t exactly do a back­ground check on them before we told them every­thing,” Delven said. “I did advise caution.”

Haw­thorne snorted. “Fine, tell me ‘I told you so’ if you want. But we needed help and you know it. And to get that, we had to tell some­one some­thing. Who knew that the evil overlord of Fly­land would be ­in­ter­ested in archae­ology?” She grumbled. “I still want to kill Sedder for that, though.”

“Have you ever even killed any­one before?” Delven asked.

“Well, no,” Haw­thorne admitted. “Some an­imals. No elvenoids.”

“I wouldn’t be so eager to start,” Delven said.

Haw­thorne shrugged. “Don’t think I’m much of a badass warrior?”

“There’s a fine line between a badass warrior and a stone-cold killer.”

*

The voyage was quite tense after that little con­frontation, and Delven didn’t have any idea just how things would fall now. No one was speaking to Sedder or Silver at this point, aside from the sailors who had no idea what was going on apart from their yelling. He wasn’t sure just what they’d been able to make out from the mess. At least the cap­tain had begrudgingly accepted Keolah’s patch job on the door, even if he did com­plain that there was still a leaf sticking out of it.

“Land ho!” called the lookout.

“Can you see the shore from here?” Haw­thorne asked Keolah.

Keolah peered off. “I think I see moun­tains.”

“Moun­tains?” Delven repeated. “There’s no moun­tains in southern Mithim. Not any­where remotely near the coast.”

“Where are you taking us?” Silver demanded. “This isn’t Dherdem.”

“Habag,” Delven corrected him quietly.

“This isn’t Habag, either!” Silver said.

“Don’t get your pretty elf ears tangled in a knot,” Billy said. “Habag’s a long way from here. We’re coming in to dock at Razelten. The city straight across the Miran­darine Ocean from Starton. At any rate, to cel­eb­rate our making landfall, Cookie’s made us some pastries.”

“You have a pastry chef aboard your ship?” Delven won­dered.

“Damn right we got a pastry chef aboard the ship,” Billy said. “This here’s prac­tically a luxury cruise line.”

An enormous burly man, though clean-shaven, brought out trays of pastries, and all the sailors eagerly took their share. Haw­thorne ran to get some as well, and Keolah shrugged and also grabbed one, as did the others. Delven inspected his own and took a bite. Tasted like honeyed pome­granate. Quickly enough, the pastries were all gone and the crew and passen­gers were wiping honey off their hands.

“You ladies best head back to your cabins and get some rest,” Billy said. “We’ll be docking in the morning.”

Haw­thorne yawned broadly. “Yeah, good idea. How did I get so tired already?”

Delven hung around a bit, but figured he might as well get some rest as well. It was getting sort of late, after all, and they’d all want to be rested for going ashore tomorrow. A stop in Razelten before sailing down the coast sounded like a fine pros­pect. Maybe he’d be able to learn some elf songs straight from the source.

He hadn’t quite managed to get to sleep when he was woken up by the sound of people moving in his shared cabin. He didn’t think Sedder had gotten up to go take a leak off the side of the ship. Sedder was quieter than that.

“I hope that blue-haired bitch didn’t overdose,” grumbled a gruff voice. “She ate three of the damned things.”

“She’ll be fine,” spoke a diff­erent voice. Billy. He app­roached Delven in the dim light and pointed a glinting ob­ject at his chest. “And you, we’ll just have to do the old fashioned way. Get to your feet slowly and no sudden moves, and don’t even think about going for a weapon.”

“What’s going on here?” Delven won­dered, slowly sitting up.

“The pastries were laced with mage­bane poison,” Billy said. “Won’t do a thing to mensch like us, but any­one that can channel mana? It’ll knock them right out. And all elves can do magic.” He gestured vaguely to where his crew mate was putting collars on Sedder and Silver. “Get mana suppression collars on them before it wears off, and pff, no more magic from them.” He prodded Zen­dellor. “Guess this kid’s a mage too. Out like a light. Maybe an­other half-elf, judging by the weird yellow hair.”

At the point of Billy’s sword, Delven headed up on deck. “What are you going to do with us?”

He didn’t even bother to ask why. They were Fly­lish. He hadn’t wanted to get aboard this ship in the first place. But Haw­thorne was impossible to dis­suade once she’d gotten an idea in her head, no matter how foolish.

“You and your buddies are bound for the slave market,” Billy said. “If you’re lucky, you’ll just get sold to trolls and be taken up to the mines. Pray to the Three that the sodding red elves don’t snatch you up.”

Delven sighed. He was afraid of that. “Can I at least take my lute?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “What in the Void do you need a lute for, where you’re going? You hoping to wind up as somebody’s slave jester and not get stuck in the mines? You think you’re good enough for that? Let me tell you, I’ve heard you playing these past days and you’re not that good. My sodding crew can sing better than you.”

The crew let out a hearty jeer as they moved the drugged-up elves and rahi onto the deck. One of them tossed Delven’s lute to Billy.

Billy tapped the instrument and peered inside. “What, are you hiding some­thing in here? Is that why it sounds so bad?”

“No,” Delven grated.

“You know, I’d break this just to spite you, but I’m a reason­able man,” Billy said, grinning at him and smacking the lute against the palm of his hand. “I’m never one to throw away any­thing potentially worth money. I’m sure it’ll fetch a few coppers in Razelten.”

Delven groaned. He couldn’t even really blame Haw­thorne for this turn of events. He just had to think of a way to get out of this predic­ament. Right now, though, his friends were still drugged up and in no pos­ition to fight. They were stripped of their pos­itions, chained up, and shoved out onto the dock. Zen­dellor blinked blearily up at the sky, but the others didn’t even react.

“There’s slave master Azra,” Billy said quietly, pointing over to a song elf with cherry red hair. “I’ll be leaving you in his capable hands. Once I get paid.”

“Ah, if it ain’t Billy Cooper,” the slave master addressed him in lightly accented Fly­lish. “What have you got for me today?” His eyes scanned the group. “Six?”

Billy nodded. “Usual rates?”

“One human male, three elves, two… half-elves?” Azra said, closely examining each one of them, lifting their hair. He came to Delven and grabbed his chin, and peered at him. “Human male seems pretty docile.”

“Well what do you ex­pect me to do?” Delven grumbled.

“Take your lot like a man,” Azra said with a shrug. He pulled out a money purse and started counting out gold coins. “It’ll be the mines for you. I’ve got a huge back order from the trolls.”

“Did you sell more slaves than you actually had again?” Billy said with a smirk.

“Hey, they know I’m always good on delivery,” Azra said.

“Because slavers like me keep bringing in new stock that no­body’s going to miss,” Billy said.

“And what’s with the giant chicken?” Azra won­dered, pointing over to where Nar­cella had been fettered.

Billy shrugged. “One of the elves wanted it brought along. Guess he rides it to scout or some­thing.”

“You selling that, too?” Azra asked. “I’m sure I can find a mage that’s ­in­ter­ested in ex­perimenting on a floka. Or at least a cook.”

Nar­cella screeched and flapped her wings vigorously. Her handlers backed away involun­tarily as a brief wave of fear emanated from her. The fetters snapped loose, and Nar­cella took to the air. A crack of thun­der split the air as one of the sailors took a potshot at her, managing to wing her and knock a few feathers loose. She wasn’t in­jured enough to keep from fly­ing away, though.

A female voice echoed in Delven’s mind, <Look after them. I’ll find you.>

Billy made a sound of dis­gust. “Probably just as well. The damned thing was more trouble than it was worth any­way.”

“You didn’t put a mana suppression collar on the floka,” Azra said.

“What?” Billy said indignantly. “Nobody ever told me those things can do magic!”

Azra waved it off. “I didn’t know what to do with a floka any­way.”

Zen­dellor’s eyes focused on the slave master, blinking, and spoke in elvish, “What— Where are we? Why are we chained up? What’s going on?”

“Razelten slave market,” Azra rep­lied flippantly. “And take a guess why.”

Zen­dellor looked around in a panic and shied back, but the chains held him firmly in place. “You will not have me!”

“You don’t really have much choice in the matter,” Azra said. “What do you plan to do about it?”

Zen­dellor’s body warped and twisted, and the collar snapped with a flash of light. Where a young man had been before, now there stood a chest­nut stallion, rearing back with a fierce neigh.

“What the hell?” Billy said. “Stop him!”

Azra held up a hand and rolled his eyes. “Never mind that. Just let the rahi go. I don’t have any collars that can keep a shape­shifter from changing here.”

“I didn’t know he was a shape­shifter,” Billy grumbled. “And I thought the mana suppression collars would have done the trick.”

Azra snorted softly. “Shapeshifters don’t need to channel mana to change form. They’re not like normal mages. Changing’s in their blood and soul.” He shook his head. “Anyway, un­less some­one else decides to break ranks and escape, I’m going to pay you for these five, and their collars.” He narrowed his eyes at Delven. “You’re not secretly a rahi too, are you?”

“I wish,” Delven said with a smirk.

“If you can’t stop some­one from changing shape, doesn’t any­one ever have trouble with the sorts of shape­shifters that are more likely to fight than flee?” Billy won­dered. “You know. Werewolves. Dragons.”

“Anyone that tries to clap a collar on a dragon deserves what they get,” Azra commented. “At any rate, dragons are rare and mostly avoid people. And were­wolves, as you so quaintly call them, best pray you never run across one. Though they’re still not as dan­gerous as pallis­telli, or ‘weresharks’ as you’d call them, but pallis­telli can’t shift on land.”

“Are you telling me I could have tried to en­slave a were­wolf all these years and never known it?” Billy asked.

“The chances of a were­wolf setting foot on your ship are vanishingly un­likely,” Azra said, rolling his eyes. He tossed a jingling pouch at Billy. “Don’t spend it all in one tavern.”

Billy took it with a grin and headed off, leaving Delven and his friends in Azra’s hands. It didn’t take long for them to be corralled into a large metal box attached to a train, along with a number of other captives. Their new com­panions were a mixed bag. Some humans, some gnomes, a few dwarves, and elves of all colors, pur­ple, blue, and red. Apparently slavery was an in­stit­ution that went beyond race and species.

Delven found it a little darkly ironic. Keolah had always hoped to get the chance to ride a train some­time, but this prob­ably hadn’t been what she’d had in mind. It wasn’t until the train started moving that his elven com­panions got their wits about them again, except for Haw­thorne, who remained less than lucid.

“What happened?” Keolah won­dered, frowning and looking around the train car they’d been locked in. There weren’t any lights on the inside, and only a little sun­light filtered in through small holes on the walls.

Delven let out a heavy breath. He didn’t want to have to be the one to tell her. He could stay calm, but the girls were innocent. They hadn’t seen half the shit in the world he had. If only he had his lute, maybe he could tell it as a story and detach him­self from it all. But now he didn’t even have that much any­more.

“We’ve been sold into slavery,” Delven said quietly. “They’re sending us up north to work in the mines for the trolls.”

“I felt like I couldn’t think straight half the day,” Keolah said. “Was it some­thing I ate?”

Delven nodded. “Mage­bane poison, app­ar­ently.”

Sedder groaned and rubbed his head. “The honey in those pastries was prob­ably from mage­bane bees.”

“Mage­bane bees?” Keolah repeated.

“Sometimes they make it into mead, too,” Sedder said. “I didn’t even think of it, though. I never ­imag­ined they’d try to do some­thing like that. They were eating the pastries too, after all. Probably to get us to let our guard down. You don’t normally sus­pect some­thing is poisoned when the other guy is eating the same thing.”

“I wouldn’t have sus­pected they were poisoned in the first place,” Keolah said, shaking her head. “What do they ex­pect of us now?”

“They’ll prob­ably want us to mine,” Delven said, looking aside to Haw­thorne and nudging her with a boot. “Can’t even think of try­ing to escape until you’re all coherent, though.”

“Yeah, my head’s still a little fuzzy,” Keolah said. “But it’s clearing up.”

“Where’s Nar­cella?” Silver asked.

“I don’t know,” Delven said. “She was wounded, but escaped. She told me she’d find us later.”

Silver nodded. “I can still sense her link to me in my mind. I can sense that she’s alive. But I can’t get any­thing across it. I’ll try again once the poison is all flushed out of my system.”

“It won’t help,” Delven said, pointing to his neck. “They’ve put mana in­hibiting collars on you all. You can’t do any magic.”

Keolah raised an eye­brow. “I can still see auras. I guess that ability is passive and doesn’t require mana to use.”

“Keep quiet on that and don’t let on to the slavers you can do that,” Sedder said. “We may be able to find some way to use that to our advantage and escape.”

“You on board with the team now?” Silver asked.

Sedder snorted softly. “Even if I did intend to betray you at some point in the future, it wouldn’t be to trolls.”

“Point,” Silver said. “We’re going to need a plan.”

“No, what we need is infor­mation,” Sedder said. “You can’t make a plan with­out infor­mation. Be patient. Be flexible. Wait for an oppor­tunity.”

“They won’t kill us,” Delven said. “They want us alive to work for them.”

Keolah sighed and leaned against Haw­thorne’s delirious form. “Then we wait.”