Chapter 17
“When Nylan told my father about his plan, he offered to make the two of them something special.” Khazak nudges the basket I’m carrying their food in. “I think he assumed it would be a dessert, not the entire meal.”
“Your dad doesn’t seem like the type to do anything halfway,” I respond.
It’s the day after my birthday party, and Khazak and I are walking to the east patrol camp to surprise Ragnar for his and Nylan’s anniversary.
I’ve got their picnic, and Khazak is carrying Ragnar’s camping supplies on his back.
Nylan dropped them off early this morning, sneaking out before his owner woke up, and Rurig brought by the basket of food not long after that.
It’s early in the evening now, and the sun is just about to start setting, tinting blue sky orange.
It’s been a pretty good day, other than waking up with that damn cage on.
Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up to the feeling of your dick being squeezed as it tries to grow inside a too-small piece of metal?
Not great. Either because or in spite of my whining, he took it off not long after lunch, though the threat of its return still hangs in the air.
Khazak and I spent most of the day coming up with ideas for what we can do to expose Councilman Murbank.
We figure that after he “caught” me in his house, he hid his tattoo, and probably not with makeup.
That, plus the repaired hole in the fence that was an illusion makes us figure he has to be using magic to cover his tracks, something that comes up over and over when he’s involved.
He must have a pretty powerful spellcaster working with him, and sometimes the only thing that can beat magic is stronger magic.
The problem is, between the two of us, we don’t know many magic users.
Khazak asks about Nate, but I’m not confident he’s capable enough to help us.
Khazak’s ideas are more in line with work.
He wants to gather together all the evidence we have—the reports and paperwork, his relationship to Thog and his debt—and present it to Chief Grandtooth to request a formal investigation into Murbank’s dealings.
The hope is that an investigation would uncover more of what he’s been up to and force it out in the open.
When I ask what happens if the people working the investigation, or worse, Grandtooth himself, are already working with the councilman, I’m met with a sour face and some grumbling about thinking some more.
I actually start to consider writing to Mike to see if he can somehow help when I remember that we’re headed to the patrol camp tonight—camps that each have a resident mage.
Khazak was hesitant but agreed that it could work.
It would just be a matter of figuring out which, if any of them, can be trusted.
He thinks that Druid Darkwolf and Shaman Bonespirit are probably safe, but he’s unsure of the others, who I haven’t even met.
Nylan told us last night we’d be going to the east camp, where Bonespirit is stationed, so he seems like our best bet.
Now we just need to find a moment to talk to him alone.
“How are you feeling after last night?” I turn my head to see Khazak looking over me.
“Still a little sore, but good.” He’s asked me that twice already.
“I was worried after I noticed you walking funny this morning,” he adds, a sly look on his face.
“And whose fault was that?” It was only for a couple of hours.
He opens his mouth to retort but then lifts his hand and points.
Headed toward us, as if he appeared out of nowhere, is Ragnar with Nylan right behind him.
I’m glad he looks surprised, because I forgot he’d be able to see us before we saw them, hidden behind the camp’s magical camouflage.
Magic makes things so confusing sometimes.
“Sir? Is everything alright?” He looks worried to see us. “Did something happen?”
“Good to see you too,” I tease.
“I am relieving you of your duties for the rest of the evening, Deputy.” Khazak hands over the camping supplies to his friend. “Happy anniversary. Enjoy yourselves.”
He looks surprised, but it doesn’t take much to get Ragnar on board. “Thank you, sir.”
“How much food did your dad make?!” Nylan takes the basket from me, shocked at its weight. “I packed sandwiches and stuff.”
“I’ll eat them later in the week.” Ragnar takes Ny’s hand with a smile and leads him away from camp.
“Have fun! Happy anniversary!” I call out as they walk away hand in hand.
Khazak and I resume walking, the camp coming into view once we cross the threshold.
It’s quiet, seemingly empty except for a few officers.
Maybe I’m just imagining things, but a couple of them look more surprised to see us than Ragnar did.
The shaman’s tent flap is closed, and since none of the other rangers are back yet, this might be our best chance to talk to him until later.
As I’m looking at it, the tent opens, and the grey-haired orc steps out.
“Captain? What are you two doing here?” the shaman asks as he approaches.
“Giving Deputy Rockfang the night off for his anniversary.” Khazak steps a little closer and lowers his voice slightly. “There is actually something I need to discuss with you in private.”
“Of course. Step into my tent.” Wu’dag leads Khazak back.
“David, please put our things in the tent while I speak with the shaman,” he orders before following the older orc.
Aww. I kinda wanted to talk to him too, but this is less suspicious.
Inside the tent, I roll up Ragnar’s bedroll and move his stuff to the side while I lay out ours for the night.
We didn’t really pack, just brought something to sleep on and a change of clothes.
Ragnar will be back in the morning, and I’m betting we’ll walk back to the city with Nylan since he “won’t sleep outside two nights in a row. ”
I step back outside and stretch my sore limbs.
I only recognize one of the three officers currently in the camp.
I think his name is Stonearm. The other two I’m not sure, but I can’t shake the feeling that they’re staring at me oddly, like they’re watching me.
I look over at the closed tent, hoping Khazak’s managing to get the shaman on our side.
“David?” A familiar voice calls out my name as Orim enters the camp behind me, returning from his patrol route.
“Hey!” I didn’t realize he’d be out here this week.
“Why are you here?” he asks as he approaches.
“Captain Ironstorm and I are filling in for Deputy Rockfang, so he can spend the night with his avakesh. It’s their anniversary.” It sounds really formal when I use everyone’s titles like that, but I’m technically working right now.
“That is very kind of you.” I mean, I didn’t really have a say in coming out here or not, but if I did, I still would have done it for my friends.
We exchange hugs (I’ve gotten the hang of the whole wrist-clasp orc-hug thing), and then some movement to my side draws my attention.
Shaman Bonespirit and Khazak exit his tent together, still talking.
After sharing a few more words, Khazak looks for me, then motions with his head toward our own tent.
“What’d he say?” I ask after entering behind him.
“He is sympathetic to our cause, or at least willing to investigate a little further,” he shares the good news, voice low.
“Tonight, during our watch shift, I am going to lead him to the section of the city wall behind Murbank’s home.
If magic was used to cover anything up, Bonespirit should be able to detect it. ”
“Then what do we do?” See how I’m asking before acting? Growth!
“That will depend on what the shaman is able to discover. But I have a good feeling.” That makes one of us.
I think about sharing my weird feelings about being watched from before, but I’m probably just being paranoid.
Not wanting to look odd by spending any more time in our tent, we both exit and take seats by the fire.
After Orim, the next ranger back is Hazatin, the dwarf, who is followed by Glasha, then finally Ranger Firedrum, who looks almost put off when she sees me.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, sounding suspicious.
I explain for the tenth time why Khazak and I are here, but her behavior has me second guessing whether or not I was actually being paranoid early. Something is going on, and I need to tell Khazak. The sun has set, so we should be headed back out for our last patrol soon.
“Does anyone know why Boldhammer and Lonespite are not back yet?” Wu’dag asks after the two officers missing from the camp. I need to sync their compass stones with the cap—”
Two arrows whiz past the shaman, landing with a thunk in the ground not far from where I’m sitting.
“What the hell?” I, and everyone around me, jump up, searching for the archer responsible. Then two more arrows fly in, followed quickly by a cry of pain as one of them hits their target—Hazatin, who is pierced in the thigh.
“We are under attack!” Khazak cries out, drawing his sword.
More arrows fly in, one hitting Officer Stonearm in the chest and another bouncing off Orim’s armor.
Of course, tonight would be the night Khazak and I decide to skip wearing armor.
It was just supposed to be a quiet night!
As people try to take cover, I see the shaman slam his walking staff down and begin to chant, his eyes and hands glowing as a fog of white smoke grows around him—and then it abruptly stops, his body slumping to the ground.
Ranger Firedrum stands behind him, blood-covered dagger in hand. I stare at her wide-eyed.
“Tonight is already off to a bad start,” she says down to the shaman’s crumpled form, wiping the blood off her blade. “We do not need you making it any worse.”
“What is the meaning of this?!” Khazak shouts, sword aimed at the murderous orc.