Brax brought up the end of their line, Frensia in front of him. The umgar's body didn't seem to mind the rigor it took to tromp through the sparse forest outside the library. It—or, rather, they—it was still a strange thing for Brax to say, much less think, about a singular living being—acted as if they were at home among the trees. Then again, maybe they were. Brax knew nothing about umgars. He wasn't even sure he'd known of their existence before meeting Frensia in the Library of Filamir.
His thoughts strayed to Melethiel, and he felt a blush spread across his cheeks. Maybe Tace was right about his sexual appetite. All those years he'd denied himself the pleasure of a woman's company just so he could protect his brother Ghrol, who lived under his house in Soleth. And now that Ghrol was gone, Brax couldn't seem to keep his breeches laced. First it was Nella, a camp follower from his army. Now Melethiel. Perhaps he was taking advantage of the situation in any way he could.
"We're going to make camp here tonight," Tace announced. She dropped her pack on the ground and sank onto a fallen log.
"We could go farther," Frensia said. "I am not tired."
"Well, I am," Tace said. "And this is where we're stopping for the night."
Without a word, Ademar began gathering a few dry twigs and leaves for a fire.
"Very well, then." Frensia sank to the ground gracefully, their silver skin nearly sparkling in the rays of the setting sun. "We will have some time to talk before sleeping. Tell us about your tattoo, Tace."
Brax had noticed Tace's tattoo, but he had chosen to say nothing about it. Tattoos weren't uncommon among humans. Usually, they held some significance, and more often than not, the stories behind them were very personal. Brax would no more question her tattoo than he would her sexual dalliances with Ademar. Not his business.
But apparently, Frensia didn't see things that way.
Tace narrowed her eyes. Brax knew that expression all too well. She was preparing to fight back. Poor Frensia was about to get the brunt of Tace's anger.
Then Tace surprised him by pulling up her sleeve. She turned her arm over and held out her wrist for all of them to see.
The strange symbol, an upside-down half moon bisected by a straight line with a curl at the top, almost appeared to glow. Brax was sure it was an effect of the flickering light from Ademar's nascent fire. Tattoos didn't glow. They faded.
"I got this when I killed the xarlug with the Staff of Jokan. It just… appeared." Tace glared at the three of them in turn, daring any of them to dispute her story.
"Tell us what it symbolizes," Frensia urged.
"The symbol is an ancient representation of lost relics." Tace sighed. "At least that's what an orc named Kindara told me. Unfortunately, she was killed by one of the Consecrated."
Even though she was speaking in the human tongue, a gesture that wasn't lost on Brax, he didn't understand much of what she was saying. Ancient relics? He had no knowledge of orc lore. And the Consecrated? They were a mystery to him.
His feelings must have been plain on his face, because Frensia patted his arm and said, "I think Brax is confused." They gave him an awkward smile. "The orcs are an old race, Brax, steeped in mythology. And some believe their stories more unflinchingly than others. Those orcs call themselves the Consecrated, and to them, their religion is pure. Anything less is anathema to them. At the other end of the spectrum are the Defiants, who reject much, though not all, of orc lore."
"Most orcs are in the middle somewhere," Tace said.
"Where do you fall?" Brax asked Tace.
She sighed. "I don't know."
Ademar wrapped an arm around Tace's shoulders. She stiffened, as if she were about to shrug him off, then she relaxed into him for a moment before standing. She paced around their camp, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Frensia, just tell us what you're thinking," she said.
Brax was glad she'd said it. He felt the same way. Frensia knew more than they were willing to admit.
Frensia held out a hand, their impossibly long fingers wiggling. "Give me your book, Ademar."
Ademar grabbed his pack, pulled out the book he'd taken, and handed it to Frensia.
Frensia opened the book and turned to the centerpiece: an illustration of five symbols.
"That's the symbol on Tace's wrist," Brax said. He leaned over and tapped the book. As he did, a shock stung his fingertip. He jerked his hand back, the tip of his pointer finger smoldering.
"I would advise against touching the symbols of power," Frensia said.
"You could have mentioned that earlier." Brax blew on his finger, trying to lessen the burn.
"You could have kept your hands to yourself," Frensia said.
"Forget Brax's lack of self-control." Tace scooted closer to the book. "Tell us about these symbols.”
Frensia flipped the book's pages from back to the front. Their fingers didn't get burnt like Brax's had. "The first chapter covers the symbol on your wrist. It includes a long treatise on the history of the Staff." Frensia looked up at Tace. "It appears you were indeed very lucky to find it. It says here the Staff was carefully hidden in Doros, but there are no clues as to where."
Ademar nudged Tace. "It wasn't entirely luck…"
"That's true," Tace said. "Someone led us there, though it wasn't a direct route. We were following hunches, not a map. Perhaps it wasn't pure luck, but a combination of meeting the right people at the right time and listening to intuition."
"Sounds like a fair amount of magic to me." Frensia tapped a long finger on their chin.
"I think magic had something to do with it," Tace said, "though it's not a topic I'm familiar with. I have a different skill set than an elusive mage."
"Magic is only familiar to those who wield it, and even then they often don't understand the true depths of their power." Frensia flipped to the book's second chapter, which began with an illustration of the second symbol. "Now this symbol is intriguing."
"Kindara told me a little about that one," Tace said. "It's supposed to symbolize the sunrise and sunset living together in harmony."
"What else did she tell you?" Frensia asked.
Tace shrugged. "That's about it."
"I know something about it. It signifies the coming together of two beings who are opposites. Darkness and light. But I think this book will tell us more. Permit me to read it while the rest of you sleep for the night." Frensia leaned against a log and propped the book up in their hands.
"But the sun is almost down. And we'll have to extinguish the fire soon, too." Brax pointed at the thick canopy above them.
"Perhaps it isn't possible for human eyes to read in these conditions, but I am umgar. My eyes adjust to whatever light is available." Frensia flashed that ridiculous smile again. "I also require very little sleep. I will wake Tace when the time has come for my body to rejuvenate itself."
As the others settled in, Brax walked into the forest to relieve himself. He thought back to Melethiel at the library and to Nella, who had left him for their homeland of Soleth. He knew plenty about two opposite beings coming together, but he assumed that wasn't what Frensia meant.
Whatever he'd gotten himself into, it was far deeper than he'd ever waded. This was no simple military campaign. This was beyond anything he could conceive of. Still, it was better than going back home to a life he barely recognized anymore. He'd always wanted adventure. And now, with this unlikely group, he'd found it.