Chapter 11:

Trollish Ruins

*

Sedder scowled as Keolah, Delven, and Silver went down. He’d been afraid of that. Damn it, why couldn’t people just do things his way?

Haw­thorne rushed up to Keolah’s side. “Keolah!” She didn’t even bother to spare a glance toward Delven and Silver.

“She’s fine,” Kithere said, checking on her. “Just un­con­scious. The collars must have put them to sleep.”

“Knock them out for easy roundup,” Sedder said. “Can we move them? I’m afraid my Wind Magic isn’t up to the task of lifting them solely with that.”

“Neither is mine,” Haw­thorne said.

Sedder went up to Silver and knelt down, touching him on the back of the neck. Still breathing and heart beating. “If Silver were con­scious and uncollared he could have called for Nar­cella,” Sedder mum­bled. Maybe if he could get into Silver’s mind he could piggy­back a tele­pathic communication to the floka along the bond between her and Silver.

“I can pick up and carry one of them, maybe two, but I wouldn’t be able to take them far,” Haw­thorne said. “Damn it all. I really wish I had the mana from the pocket-world here.”

“The what now?” Kithere asked.

“Tell you later,” Sedder said. “I’m worried that the over­seers may have gotten a notification that their collars had gone off and told them where we are. Let’s get them out of the way. I want to try some­thing.”

Haw­thorne scooped up Keolah and hauled her off behind a pile of large rocks. “What, exactly, do you have in mind?”

“I’m going to try to con­tact Nar­cella,” Sedder said. He gestured to Kithere, then took Silver’s head while Kithere grabbed his legs, and together they moved him over next to Keolah.

Haw­thorne raised an eye­brow, then went over to move Delven. “I don’t know if you can even manage that, but good luck?”

“Me either,” Sedder admitted, taking a seat on a rock next to Silver’s head and main­taining skin con­tact. Pureblooded teppers had to touch people in order to use their Mind Magic on them, and while he was only half-tepper and not beholden to that restriction, it still helped.

Unfor­tunately, he wasn’t actually that good at Mind Magic. Legend spoke of powerful teppers who, with but a brush of their fingers, could steal a per­son’s will and make them do ab­solutely any­thing. He wasn’t one of those. He wasn’t even sure that they really ever existed. Still, he had to try. He channeled mana into Silver’s mind, like connecting to his thought crys­tal, and blindly fumbled around try­ing to find the man’s connection to the floka. A flood of images and incomprehensible words rushed through his mind. A snatch of song. A woman’s face. The smell of fruitcake. Focus! He had to find it. He had to—

<What are you doing?> spoke a feminine voice in his mind.

<Nar­cella?> Sedder tepped.

<Yes. I’ve been cut off from Silver. What’s going on?>

<It was a mana suppression collar,> Sedder rep­lied. <It’s still on him. And it knocked him out when we got too far away from their con­trol centers I guess.>

<Where are you?> Nar­cella asked.

<I’m not en­tirely cer­tain,> Sedder tepped. <But we’re above ground now.>

<Zen­dellor and I have been looking for you,> Nar­cella tepped.

<Half of our party is un­con­scious,> Sedder told her. <We’re hiding under invisibility screens, but the trolls are looking for us. We require ex­trac­tion as soon as possible.>

<I’m going to es­tab­lish a tele­pathic beacon on you that I’ll be able to follow. Don’t resist.> A brief wave of vertigo washed over him. <Done. Alright. Stay put. We’re on our way.>

<Why can’t you just tell where Silver is all the time?> Sedder won­dered.

<It does incur a running mana cost that is not insig­nificant,> Nar­cella ex­plained.

“Nar­cella and Zen­dellor are coming now,” Sedder said aloud.

“Really?” Haw­thorne said. “Thank Ozelin.”

“Who are they?” Kithere asked. “More friends of yours? Good thing they managed to avoid capture.”

“A giant bird and a horse shifter,” Haw­thorne said before Sedder could open his mouth to say some­thing a little more sub­tle.

Kithere blinked. “Oh. Well then. Yes, I can see how that would help, if they can get here before the trolls do.”

“All that’s left is to wait until they can find us,” Sedder said. “I’ll try to keep us con­cealed in the mean­time and attempt to mis­dir­ect any further patrols that show up.”

“Why don’t we just kill them?” Haw­thorne asked.

Sedder sighed and rubbed his head. “Haw­thorne, I’m really not ­in­ter­ested in getting killed just because you felt like going toe-to-toe with a group of trolls.”

Haw­thorne snorted softly.

“I have to agree with Sedder here,” Kithere said. “We don’t have the firepower to match up, es­pec­ially not with three of us un­con­scious, and having to protect them as well.”

“Fiiiiiine,” Haw­thorne said.

Sedder kept an eye out, holding the invisibility screen up with Zarnith’s mana. They’d already dispelled his latest sim­ul­acrum, not that he ex­pected it to last long. If the trolls spotted them through the illusions, though, they’d wind up having to fight any­way, since they couldn’t aban­don the others. It would be sim­pler if he could just cut his losses and save him­self. But Haw­thorne would never aban­don Keolah, and Zarnith wouldn’t let him aban­don Haw­thorne, and he’d sworn a damned oath not to betray Haw­thorne. He was still cursing him­self about that.

A patrol came by, five troll warriors along with three goblin scouts. Sedder prac­tically held his breath, even though he knew per­fectly well he had sound wards up, as well as every other type of illusion ward he could think of. It was also prob­ably just as well that Sedder was the one holding Zarnith at the moment. Haw­thorne looked itchy and about ready to grab it and charge out to attack them regard­less. Kithere put a hand on Haw­thorne’s arm and shook her head. Haw­thorne sighed, and the patrol con­tinued on with­out giving any indication that they’d spotted the group.

Minutes crawled by, and Sedder worked on freeing Keolah in the mean­time, though he knew he’d prob­ably not be able to manage it before any trolls found them. The sky grew darker and darker. He doubted the darkness would hide them from the trolls, though.

The shape of feathered wings crossed the sky above the spot the group was resting. Zen­dellor, in human form, sat upon Nar­cella’s back as they swooped in on the group’s location. Unfor­tunately, a patrol was coming down the valley at that moment. Sedder cast out a blanket of Illusion Magic over the air in front of the trolls, but it was too late. They’d already seen the bird, and the illusion did nothing more than briefly disorient them. Trolls lifted their fire­arms, and one of them took a shot at Nar­cella.

Haw­thorne grabbed Zarnith and charged at the patrol, yelling in badly accented common, “Consume waste products, ones who mate with an­imals!

“Oh, for love of the Trick­ster,” Sedder muttered, stepping out after her.

Sedder tossed up illusions around them to disorient the trolls, displacing Haw­thorne to make it look like she was coming at them from a diff­erent spot, and conjuring a few quick elven warriors as well. He hoped the Wind­riders didn’t mind if he borrowed their faces for authenticity. They had no sub­stance to them at all, just sound and color, but hope­fully they’d distract the trolls for a few minutes.

Nar­cella landed. Zen­dellor slid down off of her back and shifted. Sedder and Kithere started the others on top of the mounts. He wasn’t sure whether he hoped Haw­thorne didn’t get her­self killed, or whether she did, as at least it would free him from his oath. The confused trolls were attacking no­where near where they actually were, at least, yelling what were prob­ably ob­scenities in their own lan­guage.

<Haw­thorne, come on!> Sedder tepped once they’d gotten every­one on board. <I’ll keep them distracted while we retreat.>

Haw­thorne hesitated for one moment before turning to run after them.

“Are you hurt?” Kithere asked.

Haw­thorne clutched her hand to her left arm, then pulled it back covered in blood. “It’s nothing.”

Kithere snorted softly. “I’m a Healer. Let me heal you.”

“I won’t argue,” Haw­thorne said. “Distrae’s fist! What in the Abyss were they wielding that they got through my wards?”

“Rifles,” Kithere said, sending healing energy over toward her. “It could have been a lot worse.”

“I blocked the first few shots,” Haw­thorne said.

Sedder kept up the illusionary warriors as long as he could, but felt them get dispelled one by one. He held up the invisibility screen behind them, and really hoped there weren’t more trolls in front of them. The sky grew fully dark and the stars came out, and there was no sign that the trolls were still following them. Still, they pressed on as far as their strength would take them before they had to stop and rest.

“I think we lost them,” Kithere said.

“Or they just gave up,” Sedder said. “In my ex­perience, you don’t always have to com­pletely evade some­one, just make your­self too much of an effort for them to bother. They might not con­sider us worth the time and effort.”

“Or maybe they’re counting on slave hunters picking us up in the next town,” Kithere said. “Or just plain didn’t anticipate us being able to get the collars off. We’re well past the spot where we should have been rendered un­con­scious, after all.”

“I need to get the rest of these collars off,” Sedder said. “You guys get some rest. I’ll keep watch and get to work on that.”

Sedder dispeled his fatigue to keep him­self awake. He’d pay for it later, and badly, but that would be later, and he needed every advantage he could get right now. He sat down next to Keolah again and got to work on her collar.

*

Keolah opened her eyes to the light of the sun rising over the moun­tains. She reached up her hand to her neck. Her collar was gone. She sat up slowly, putting a hand to her forehead. Her head was swimming.

“Keolah!” Haw­thorne cried. “You’re awake! How do you feel?”

“Like I was just smothered with a pillow and then dumped into the ocean with an boulder tied to my ankles,” Keolah said. “What happened?”

“Magic collar knocked you out,” Haw­thorne said. “But we’re free now!”

“Yeah, I just need to get Delven and Silver’s collars off still,” Sedder said. “We should get moving again, though.”

“I don’t think they’re still chasing us,” Haw­thorne said.

“I don’t want to hang around here until they decide to show up, though,” Sedder said. “Besides, I can keep working while we go, if I ride.”

Zen­dellor whickered, possibly in agree­ment.

“Sedder, you haven’t slept at all, have you,” Kithere said. It was a statement.

“I’m fine,” Sedder said. “Just a little Mind Magic to keep me going until we’re safe.”

“If you say so,” Kithere said.

“Do you know what’s in this dir­ec­tion?” Keolah asked.

“Nope,” Kithere said.

“Does any­one know?” Keolah asked.

“We lost our maps,” Sedder said.

<I’ll scout ahead,> Nar­cella projected men­tally.

“Be care­ful,” Keolah said.

“I’ll put an invisibility spell on you,” Sedder said.

Sedder wove a black blanket of mana around Nar­cella, who bobbed her head and flew off.

“I’m starved,” Haw­thorne said.

“We don’t exactly have any food with us,” Sedder said.

“There’s got to be some­thing to eat out here,” Haw­thorne said. “At least we found this moun­tain spring. Too bad about the canteen of end­less water.”

Keolah held up a hand. “Relax. I can fast-grow some plants for us to eat. Not like I’m using my mana for any­thing else right now.”

“Oh, right,” Haw­thorne said. “Okay.”

Keolah gathered up green mana around her­self and channeled it into the coarse moun­tain soil. It had only been a few days, but she was more than a little grate­ful to be able to use her magic again. If it weren’t for Sedder and Haw­thorne’s sword, they might have been trapped here for years, like poor Kithere. And as nice as it was to see her sis­ter again, she’d feel better once they all were safe. Plants grew out of the ground, slowly, reluc­tantly, one by one forming all the types of veg­etables that she knew how to create and didn’t require a long time cooking.

By the time they’d finished eating, Nar­cella had returned. <There’s a troll village to the south. We can easily avoid it by heading east.>

“Into the sun it is, then,” Keolah said, standing up and stretching.

“No one else seems to be hunting for us?” Sedder asked.

<There are patrols through the moun­tains, yes,> Nar­cella tepped. <I don’t know that they’re looking spec­ifically for us, but I’m sure they know about us by now. None of them are too close to us just yet, though.>

“That’s kind of a relief,” Sedder said. “Keep an eye out.”

They helped Silver back up onto Nar­cella’s back, and Delven onto Zen­dellor. Sedder took a seat behind Delven and started weaving dark mana around the collar. With that, they headed off through the moun­tains. The going was rough when they took the side path that avoided the village, but not un­manageable. The Sky­shadow moun­tains were quite diff­erent from the inhospitable Thorn­delles. While the latter were all cliffs and sheer drops, the Sky­shadows were more of a rocky high­land. It was also damned cold up here. The mines hadn’t been bad at all, but now that they were out­side and sub­jected to cutting winds, it would have been positively miserable were it not for just being glad to be free. Keolah surrounded them with a globe of heat using Fire Magic, but it did nothing to stop the wind.

“Haw­thorne, can you put up a weather barrier?” Keolah asked.

“Good idea,” Haw­thorne said. “This wind is getting annoying.” Haw­thorne raised her hands, and her cyan mana formed a bubble around the group, blocking the wind.

“Wow,” Kithere said. “It has been so long since I really thought of elves as actually being magical.”

“Lucky for me that you rem­em­bered you’re a Healer in time to heal me?” Haw­thorne said.

Keolah looked off at the landscape. The plantlife was sparse and low, but spring flowers were starting to bloom, splashing the high­lands with color. “You know, when we’re not worrying too much about fleeing for our lives or freezing to death, this place is rather pretty.”

“Yeah,” Haw­thorne agreed. “And I bet there’s ­in­ter­esting things to poke into around here. Caves and ruins and—”

“No, we are not going looking into caves and ruins,” Keolah said firmly. “Let’s save the ad­ven­tures for when every­one is up to speed and armed, at least.”

“Alright, al­right,” Haw­thorne said.

<I did spot a ruin a fair ways to the east,> Nar­cella projected.

Haw­thorne’s eyes prac­tically lit up.

Keolah put her face in her palm and sighed. “Let’s settle for having every­one awake first, then. If it’s truly aban­doned, the trolls might not look for us there, but they prob­ably aban­doned it for a reason.”

Travel was slow, but Sedder had Delven’s collar off by the time they stopped to rest for the evening, and got Silver’s taken care of that night. Keolah woke to Haw­thorne prodding Sedder’s prone form.

“And now he’s out cold,” Haw­thorne com­plained.

<The men­tal tech­nique he used to keep him­self awake might render him un­con­scious for the next few days,> Nar­cella tepped. <He’s an amateur with Mind Magic. A true master could have kept them­selves awake indefinitely. There are some floka who are powerful enough to keep fly­ing for­ever.>

“If Sedder is out, that means his illusions are no longer con­cealing our movements,” Keolah said.

<Yes,> Nar­cella agreed. <And I hate to say this, but I think there’s a patrol coming this way.>

“Distrae’s fist,” Haw­thorne swore.

“Everyone up!” Keolah cried.

Haw­thorne shoved Sedder on top of Zen­dellor al­most one-handed, and Nar­cella took to the air. They didn’t have any possessions to gather up from camp, but Keolah was worried they might notice the out-of-season exotic plants that were growing around the area. As a precaution, she set them on fire, and only after­ward did she think that having the plants be on fire would be more atten­tion-drawing than having exotic plants growing here. She quickly stomped the fire out and ran off after the others.

“Let’s take shel­ter in the ruins!” Haw­thorne said.

“You just want an excuse to ex­plore those ruins,” Keolah said.

“What, and you don’t?” Haw­thorne asked.

“Point,” Keolah said. “Let’s go.”

Worn buildings surrounded them. While the buildings out­side the Sky­shadow Mines had been rough stone blocks stacked on top of one an­other, this ruin con­sisted of smooth stone in unnatural shapes, with no sign of having been touched by any tools. She would have thought it sim­ply an un­usual natural for­mation if it weren’t for the writing and furniture. She assumed it was shaped by magic, the trolls shaping stone to suit their needs much like elves shaped wood.

“Kithere, do you recog­nize that writing?” Keolah asked as they passed by.

“It is in Astanic,” Kithere said.

“Astanic?” Haw­thorne won­dered.

“One of the two trollish lan­guages,” Kithere said.

“There are two trollish lan­guages, too?” Delven said.

“The moun­tain trolls and goblins in Garateck and Rízán speak dialects of Astanic,” Kithere ex­plained. “The ice trolls up in Tominia speak Tominian.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Delven said.

Up ahead, in the heart of the ruins, a spiked tower loomed against the morning sky. The gates stood wide open, but a shimmering cyan barrier stood across the en­trance. Behind them, Keolah could make out trollish voices, raised and angry, per­haps having an argument amongst them­selves.

“A tower!” Haw­thorne cried brightly. “Let’s see what’s inside!” She rushed ahead.

“But if the trolls follow us in there, we’ll be trapped,” Delven said.

“Haw­thorne, wait,” Keolah said. “There’s a ward—”

Haw­thorne passed right through the ward as if it weren’t there. She paused in the door­way to look back at the others. “What?”

“I guess it’s not a physical barrier,” Keolah said. “Whatever it protects against, it isn’t us. Delven’s point still stands, though.”

“Bah, we can defend a building more easily any­way,” Haw­thorne said. “Come on in.”

“Fine,” Keolah said, shrugging help­lessly.

The ward allowed Zen­dellor and the elves to pass unimpeded, but it stopped Delven in his tracks.

“Guys?” Delven said, running his fingers against the barrier.

“Shit,” Haw­thorne said.

“I guess it must ward against humans for some reason?” Keolah asked. “Did the people who built this tower even know humans existed?”

“More likely it wards against mensch,” Delven said.

“Mensch?” Haw­thorne repeated.

“Non-mages,” Delven said.

“Nar­cella, can you get Delven to safe­ty?” Keolah asked.

<I can,> Nar­cella tepped. <In fact, there’s a balcony up above I could put him on.>

“Right, they might not have warded their windows and balconies,” Keolah said.

Delven nodded and climbed onto Nar­cella, and they flew up out of sight.

Keolah turned to look around at the interior of the tower. Once, this might have been a grand atrium to a heavily trafficked building. While the sweeping arch­ways and pillars were still beaut­iful, now cobwebs hung from every corner and dust covered the floor. Magic light globes hung from the ceiling, but a good third of them had gone out and an­other third were flickering and fading.

“Guess this place must have been built by goblins,” Kithere said. “And if the ward on the door really keeps out mensch, then we’ll be safe from the trolls so long as we’re in here.”

“What do you mean?” Keolah asked.

“Trolls can’t do magic,” Kithere said.

“What, you mean, not at all?” Keolah won­dered.

“Not at all,” Kithere said. “They can’t even learn.”

“I’ve heard the same,” Silver put in.

“Weird,” Keolah said. “They have normal auras.”

Kithere shrugged. “Didn’t say I know why.” She paused. “You can see auras?”

Keolah nodded. “Apparently I’m an in­born Seeker.”

“Oh,” Kithere said. “Huh.”

The trolls app­roached the tower, yelling all the while. Keolah stood behind a pillar and watched their auras through the rock. They came to a halt at the ward over the door, poked at it a bit, then turned and walked away, al­though not with­out shouting a few words in at them first.

“What did they say?” Keolah asked Kithere.

“Nothing polite,” Kithere said.

“I’ll need to rem­em­ber those words,” Haw­thorne said. “Can you tell me exactly what they meant? It’s always im­por­tant to swear correctly.”

Keolah put her face in her palm. “Kit, can you like, tell them to go away or some­thing?”

Kithere grinned. “Been a long time since any­one called me Kit. I don’t know how much it might help, but I’ll try.” She stepped over toward the en­trance and proceeded to have an animated conversation with the trolls out­side. After a few minutes, Kithere raised her hand and said calmly with­out looking, “Keolah, please set the trolls on fire.”

“Sure thing,” Keolah said.

She stepped out from cover and sent a burst of green flames out through the barrier. The trolls scattered out of the way and yelped some more un­pleasant-sounding words.

“Can I play, too?” Haw­thorne said, pulling out her sword and striding up to the barrier with­out waiting for an answer.

After exchanging a few more words with Kithere, the trolls grumpily retreated.

“I told them that we weren’t worth the trouble,” Kithere said. “I ex­plained that we were here to study the ruins and not to bother them and would be gone once we were done here. They didn’t seem to realize that we were escaped slaves. I don’t think they very much relished the thought of fighting a group of elven mages. Alternatively, they might just be going back to get rein­forcements and we’re com­pletely screwed.”

“This was sounding very reassuring until you got to that last part,” Keolah said dryly.

“Bah, if they come back, we’ll stomp them,” Haw­thorne said. “You said we were here to ex­plore the ruins. Let’s ex­plore the ruins. I don’t know what might be in this tower, but it seems awfully ­in­ter­esting so far!”

“Right, but Kit’s gonna need to trans­late every­thing for us,” Keolah said.

Kithere snorted softly. “Yeah, I’m looking at these engravings, but it’s in an awfully archaic dialect of Astanic and I don’t even recog­nize a lot of the terms.”

“That’s still a leg up over the rest of us,” Haw­thorne said.

“I shall keep watch at the door,” Silver said.

Zen­dellor whickered, and they pulled Sedder off of him to place him gently on the floor.

“And I’ll keep an eye on Sedder,” Kithere said.

They headed in to ex­plore the tower, and met up with Delven on the third floor. The first floor was mostly a recep­tion area, dining areas, a kitchen, and storage. On the upper levels they passed through living quarters, an alchemy workshop, and more storage. While many of the items in storage were beyond use and repair, they were at least able to rep­lace some of their equip­ment.

“I kind of miss that bronze sword,” Delven said, holding aloft a crys­tal dagger.

Haw­thorne snorted softly. “If you really want to turn up your nose at good crys­tal, we do still have a ton of bronze crap in the Junk­yard back in the pocket-world. Let’s haul out any­thing of value down to the ground floor. Zen­dellor can carry it and we can sell it some­where. Or just dump it in the Junk­yard, too, once we get back there.”

“I’m sure he will be thrilled at the privilege of carrying more junk for us,” Delven said.

“Hmm, say, what’s this bottle?” Haw­thorne won­dered, picking up an enchanted vessel.

“Looks like Water Magic on it,” Keolah said. “Probably enchanted with end­less water?”

Haw­thorne opened it up and took a taste, than made a face and spat it out. “Nope. end­less vinegar, I think.”

“Well, let’s put that with the other ‘junk’ we’re taking any­way,” Keolah said. “That could still be use­ful.”

They con­tinued on and headed up­stairs. Many of the rooms on this level were full of chairs lined up neatly in rows, with flat extensions from one arm that might make for con­venient places to write on.

“This looks like a classroom,” Keolah said, running a hand over the top of one of the seats. “Was this a school?” She walked up to the lectern at the front of the hall, but no notes or any­thing had been left there.

“If this was a school, there must have been a lot of students here once,” Delven said. “I’m counting… seven rows of nine, sixty-three desks in each room.

“Some­one cer­tainly wanted to teach a lot of people some­thing,” Haw­thorne said.

The next floor up contained a lib­rary, or what was left of one at least. Many of the books had decayed into use­lessness. The paper they were written on crumbled to dust at a touch. Keolah’s heart sank.

“Zaravin’s beak,” Haw­thorne muttered. “How long has this place been here, and how shitty of paper did they use, that this happens? Did they print this all on news leaf or some­thing?”

“Can you try warding it before moving it?” Keolah asked.

“I can try,” Haw­thorne said. “But I doubt it will do much good.”

Haw­thorne held her hand close to one of the books and wove a blanket of cyan mana around it, and levitated it a few inches above her palm over to a nearby table. When she tried to open it tele­kinetically, how­ever, the force of it still crushed the brittle paper.

“Bah,” Haw­thorne said. “This isn’t working.”

“Let’s leave them alone for now and keep looking around,” Keolah said. “I don’t think this floor was properly warded against vermin, either.”

“No shit,” Haw­thorne said. “There’s some happy, well-fed spiders in here, though.”

They con­tinued up the tower. More lib­raries. More storerooms. Most of them use­less. Then, they came to a door that bore a very strong cyan ward across it.

Keolah held up a hand to stop the others. “Warded. Hope­fully just against vermin, but let’s be cautious.”

“Yup,” Haw­thorne agreed, then reached out to open the door. It didn’t budge.

“Well, at least it didn’t kill you when you touched it,” Delven said dubiously.

“It’s at least a good sign that what­ever is inside might be better preserved,” Keolah said. “There’s a balcony over there. Let’s flag down Nar­cella and ask her if there’s a window. Hope­fully any windows are also warded.”

“Why hope­fully?” Haw­thorne asked.

“Because it means nothing would have gotten inside from the window either,” Keolah said.

“But how are we going to get inside, then?” Haw­thorne asked.

Keolah stepped out onto the balcony and waved a hand. “Nar­cella?”

Nar­cella sat above, perched on the top of the tower. <Did you find some­thing?>

“Do you see any windows on this floor?” Keolah called.

Nar­cella took off and circled around the tower before landing again where she’d been. <I do not.>

“Thanks,” Keolah yelled.

<You all need to learn Mind Magic,> Nar­cella commented, before returning to grooming her feathers.

Keolah headed back inside and returned to the mys­terious door. “The ward actually runs through the wall, too, so we can’t just break through it even if I were so in­clined to destructively get in there. Haw­thorne, you’re the Warder here. Do you know how to dispel wards, or just create them?”

Haw­thorne grumbled. “I don’t know, maybe. I’ve never really had to deal with dispelling any­one else’s wards before. There weren’t a lot of Warders in Wish­ings­dale. The one they had covered the basics, but I mostly wound up just relying on in­born ability. I’ll give it a shot, though.”

Haw­thorne went up to the door and focused, her aura flaring and meeting up against the slightly diff­erent shade of cyan that made up the ward. It rippled, but held. After several minutes of con­centration, she stepped back, frowning thought­fully. The damage she’d done slowly repaired it­self as mana flowed in from other parts of the ward.

“It’s regen­erating it­self,” Keolah said. “Though it prob­ably only has a limited amount of mana to work with, un­less it’s got a soul tied into it. Your in­born Talent may be able to overcome it with enough time.”

“Hmm,” Haw­thorne said. “Let me try some­thing.” She pulled out her sword and steadied her­self, pointing it to one side of the door. “Alright, on my mark — well, when you see me do the thing — try pulling the door open quick.”

Keolah went over to grab a hold of the handle, and nodded to her. Haw­thorne’s cyan aura swirled and mingled with the sword’s magenta one, building into a raging storm, and formed a solid spike that she drove straight into the doorjamb next to the handle. Keolah yanked at the door as Haw­thorne ex­panded the spike into a blade, cutting through the ward along the edges of the door­way. The door gave way after a few moments, sending Keolah stumbling back from the sudden movement.

“Whoa,” Delven breathed as he looked inside.

“Jackpot!” Haw­thorne cried.

“Jackpot of books?” Kithere said.

“Damn right,” Haw­thorne said. “It makes Keolah happy, so I’m happy.”

Keolah brushed her­self off and moved in to see what they were talking about. The room was pris­tine, untouched by the elements or vermin. Rows upon rows of books stood neatly upon the shelves. Each book was surrounded by knots of diff­erent colored mana, which she hadn’t been able to see before through the exterior wards. At the far end of the room sat a large, green couch and several com­fortable matching armchairs around a table, under­neath a shimmering magic screen currently displaying an image of the out­side.

“Wait, I thought Nar­cella said there weren’t any windows here,” Haw­thorne said.

“There aren’t,” Keolah said. “It’s just an illusion.”

“Huh,” Haw­thorne said. “Cool. I want an illusionary window in my house that shows the ocean!”

Keolah snickered. “That can prob­ably be arranged.”

Kithere slowly walked along a shelf, examining the spines of the books. “They’re in Astanic. You’re prob­ably going to make me attempt to trans­late.”

“You can prob­ably at least get the gist of the sub­ject matter, can’t you?” Keolah asked. “We can take them to an ex­pert to trans­late in depth. Though, it might be hard to get Zen­dellor to carry all of them. We could prob­ably just take a couple of them as examples and leave the rest here for now.”

“Do you want to come back here?” Haw­thorne asked.

“Well… no, not really,” Keolah said. “Alright, between us all, we could prob­ably manage all the books in here, but we won’t be carrying much else I don’t think.”

“That’s okay,” Haw­thorne said. “We don’t have much else.”

“Let’s just not lose it all again,” Keolah said. “Maybe we should just take this all back to the pocket-world where it will be safe, before we try to get to the Valley of Gal.”

“And do you want to try to find a ship that won’t sell us into slavery?” Haw­thorne said with a smirk.

“Alright, you have got to tell me about this ‘pocket-world’ you keep men­tioning,” Kithere said.

“We found a magic weird thing in the forest,” Haw­thorne said. “It is com­pletely awe­some but we’re try­ing to learn more about it.”

Kithere raised an eye­brow. “And ancient goblin books will help?”

“I dunno,” Haw­thorne said. “I don’t know if any goblins ever got any­where near central Kalor.”

“We’ve so far been unable to figure out even what lan­guage the runes in the pocket-world are written in,” Keolah said. “And it’s not Astanic. I’d already found out enough infor­mation about that in Scalyr that I could dis­count the possibility, even if I did think goblin wizards once lived in Kalor.”

“The furniture here seems awfully big for goblins,” Delven said. “Yennik’s feet wouldn’t even touch the floor in that armchair.”

“I guess it must have been intended for trolls after all, then,” Kithere said thought­fully. “Or at least built with the thought in mind that they were going to be using it some­times. Which… doesn’t ex­plain why the ward on the door keeps out mensch. I would have ex­pected that the goblins built this tower and wanted to keep it from getting attacked by trolls. But maybe that isn’t the case.”

“Or maybe goblins just like oversized armchairs,” Haw­thorne said.

Kithere took a book off a shelf, and care­fully opened it up to look at it. “Definitely Astanic. And definitely archaic and tech­nical. I can prob­ably pick out… half the words, and not the im­por­tant ones. The word forms are… peculiar. Much more com­plex than modern Astanic, or maybe it’s just that I’m not used to seeing this level of formality. For all I know, upper-class trolls talk to one an­other diff­erently than they do their slaves.”

“But what’s it about?” Keolah won­dered.

“This book I just picked up?” Kithere held it up. “It seems to be about magical places. It might be referring to nodes.” She pulled out an­other book and peered at it a bit. “And this one might be about using magic to poison people. What a lovely sub­ject. I hope it also talks about curing poisons some­where, too.” She grabbed an­other book. “Hmm. This one seems to be about souls and rebirth.” Another book. “Time travel? I think. Or some­thing like that, at least.”

Keolah stared at her, stunned. “We are taking all of these books with us.”

“So, uh.” Haw­thorne cocked her head at Kithere. “I don’t suppose there’s enough there to teach us how to teleport our­selves back to the pocket-world right now? Because that would be super con­venient.”

“It would be, but I’m afraid not,” Kithere said. “You’re lucky I can tell you what the books are about, never mind the details on mana channeling exercises.”

“Besides,” Keolah added. “It takes time to learn new magical tech­niques, if you’re not in­born to them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Haw­thorne said, waving a hand. “I know, I know. It was just a nice thought. I don’t suppose you have a lost brother some­where, who is an in­born Motion Mage?”

“No, I do not,” Keolah said with a smirk.

“I suppose obtaining a recent map in this place is too much to ask,” Delven said. “Let’s get Nar­cella to dir­ect us to the nearest friendly settle­ment where we can get fresh supplies and maps.”

“How do we know who will be friendly?” Haw­thorne asked.

“I recommend heading east into Rízán,” Kithere said. “The goblins there should be tolerant of us. Or at least be happy to take our money.” She paused. “Or at least be able to take ancient arti­facts in exchange for money. I don’t think we have any actual money more recent than at least a thousand years.”

“I don’t suppose you saw any­thing to indicate what the name of this place is?” Keolah asked.

“Kadabi-Gharatik,” Kithere rep­lied. “Rod of Garateck, basically.”

“Heh heh,” Haw­thorne snickered. “Rod.”

Keolah rolled her eyes.

*

While waiting for Sedder to regain con­sciousness, they sorted through which items they were planning to take with them, and which they would leave here due to being too heavy or bulky for their potential value. Nar­cella scouted ahead and located a goblin village at the edge of Rízán that should make a suitable stop.

“Furniture too large for goblins, and a set of magic books written in archaic Astanic,” Silver mused. “Very peculiar indeed. It is said that the trolls once had great mages and were them­selves stalwart members of the League of Wizards. This tower must predate its fall.”

“Hmm,” Keolah said. “Do you suppose these books are actually the Astanic trans­lations of the Tinean books that we’re searching for?”

“It would seem to me to be a distinct possibility,” Silver said.

“We have to get these some­where safe,” Keolah said. “Whether they are or not, they’re price­less and irrep­laceable.”

“Even if we can’t read them,” Haw­thorne added.

“I thought you weren’t so keen on the reading thing,” Keolah said.

“I’ll make an excep­tion for books that can be con­sidered treasure,” Haw­thorne said. “And don’t tell me that every book is a treasure, either. Don’t think it passed by my notice that the lib­rary of Scalyr had an en­tire floor dedicated to smutty romance novels.”

“I would have thought that would be just your cup of tea,” Delven said lightly.

“There wasn’t nearly enough smutty romance involving two girls!” Haw­thorne protested.

“Right, of course,” Delven said.

Once Sedder woke and got filled in on what they’d found, they packed up every­thing they could carry and set out toward the dawn. The trolls hadn’t come back in the mean­time, app­ar­ently content to let them pillage the ruins as they pleased, or at least unwilling to mess with them. Keolah silently cursed her­self for letting her­self, and every­one else, fall into the sort of situation where they might be captured like that. She hadn’t even known mage­bane poison existed in order to be wary of it. She’d never ­imag­ined some­one could do that to a mage.

“Kithere, how in the Abyss did you wind up in Garateck, any­way?” Keolah asked.

“Same way you did, with the addition of some bandits in the middle,” Kithere said. “The ones who captured me were led by a song elf named Amberline, who styled her­self the ‘Bandit Queen’. Most of her bandit gang were human, though. When she realized I was a Healer, she wanted to keep me around to do healing for her. Fortunately for her, I’m not nearly as violent of a per­son as some of you lot—”

“Hey!” Haw­thorne said.

“—and I didn’t attack her with my Frost Magic even though I wasn’t wearing a slave collar at the time,” Kithere said. “At least up until she started getting handsy. I tolerated healing her bandits and her prisoners, but I gave her a cold shock whenever she touched me. She was par­tic­ularly bad when she was drunk.”

“Still doesn’t sound like a bad deal for her,” Sedder said. “What happened?”

“Amberline’s bandit camp was attacked,” Kithere said. “At first I thought it was soldiers or ad­ven­turers, but then I realized it was a rival bandit group. They captured al­most every­one, put collars on the elves, and hauled every­one to Starton to be put on a ship. That was who I wound up in the slave caverns with. We were all equals in chains.”

“I can see why you weren’t eager to rescue any of them, then,” Keolah said.

Laden down with books and arti­facts, they traveled to the goblin village on the edge of the moun­tains. Out toward the horizon stretched a land of rolling hills, yellow earth dotted with green shrubs here and there. It reminded her a bit of home, al­though cooler than she was used to. Still, the passing familiarity was somewhat refreshing. The village, though, was com­pletely diff­erent. Rather than elven mage-grown living wood, or the mud bricks humans tended to use, the goblin village seemed to be nothing more than a collection of hide tents. The goblins looked at them sourly as they app­roached, some of them double-checking to make sure their guns were close at hand.

“Why does every­one in Zar­hanna have guns?” Haw­thorne mum­bled.

They tried to speak with the goblins. None of them spoke any­thing but their own lan­guage, but Kithere managed to hammer out some trades. One of the goblins had an excellent map of Rízán that she was willing to copy for them, with a spell that Keolah would dearly like to learn some­time, as well as a less detailed map of Zar­hanna as a whole. The goblins didn’t use hammocks like the elves were used to, but they were happy to part with some bed­rolls. Fresh meat, bread, and cheese topped off their food supplies, and would be a wel­come respite after many days of taste­less gruel and fast-grown veg­etables. They gave Keolah a bag of stoppered tiny glass vials that she could use for potions, which spared her from attemp­ting to use the antique crys­tal goblets from the tower. The goblins even had some elven currency, and were willing to part with it all, on top of every­thing else they’d given, in exchange for one long crys­tal dagger taken from the ruins.

“They keep calling it Kebab-de-Garateck,” Kithere grumbled. “They think it means ‘Skewer of Garateck’.” She gestured over to where a goblin was cooking. “Like meat cooked on a spit. That wasn’t what the signs there said at all.”

“I guess the name must have gotten corrupted over the years,” Keolah said, chuckling. “I suppose if they mangled it that badly, looking for any­one that can help us trans­late the books around here is a waste of time. You know, aside from the fact that none of them speak elvish any­way.”

“How did they manage to confuse a tower with meat?” Kithere won­dered.

“All this talk is making me hungry,” Haw­thorne said. “Let’s forget it and have some kebab­s.” She wandered off to get some­thing to eat.

“Why wasn’t the tower looted, if they’ve known about it all this time?” Keolah asked. “The only room that didn’t readily let us in was the warded lib­rary. It only lets mages in, but there are goblin mages.”

“Perhaps they did not realize that,” Silver said. “They saw that most people could not get in, and stopped try­ing.”

“They also think the place is cursed and that we’re all going to die horribly,” Kithere said.

“I would have noticed any sort of curse on us by now,” Keolah said.

“And they don’t think the arti­facts we brought out are cursed?” Silver asked.

“Not so badly that they’re afraid of trading for them,” Kithere said. “They seem to think the curse is only triggered by theft, not trade. Which means they won’t try to steal from us, either.” She shrugged.

“For all I know, it is,” Keolah said. “While the crys­tal weapons and tools aren’t enchanted, the mana woven into the books is too com­plex for me to work out just what all has been cast on them.”

“It’s not theft if the owners are dead,” Sedder said.

“Let’s not let the goblins hear you say that, please,” Kithere said.