Chapter 19
Iintentionally turned my back as my cousins and Ozanna left the clearing. There was a part of me that wanted to run away with them, and I worried that I might just do it if I looked back. If only the road ahead of me could be as simple as theirs. While Dulanzo was no longer a threat, I’d just committed myself to a completely different set of problems, and I was just too weary to do more than go through the motions. It was time to start down the check list of things that I had to do now that the bastard was cooling on the ground at my feet.
Bhekna wasn’t wrong about my prowess suffering for my lack of appetite. I’d never have been able to take on Dulanzo in a duel myself. Perhaps Lhoris could have pulled it off, but Lobikno would have been the better challenger by far. He had the most to gain in seeing my dear older cousin dead, but this still ended the way we’d hoped.
Dourlek walked beside me. “You look like shit,” he said with a downturned lip.
“Yup,” I agreed. “I’ve got more to do though. Will you help me?”
I wasn’t sure Dourlek would, but he nodded in agreement.
“There’s a small bundle of wood and kindling in the gatehouse. Would you get it and meet me just inside the entrance?” He nodded and joined another group of elves that were walking back to the gates while I went to collect Dulanzo’s head.
I rolled it with the toe of my boot, taking in the bewildered expression on its face before I spat on it. There was no sense of relief in meeting his dead eyes, just more weariness. I picked it up by the braid and slung it over my shoulder.
Dourlek met me inside the gates with the bundle of wood and only paused for a moment when I didn’t take the turn that would lead us down and away from the mountain.
“Where are you going?” He asked while giving me an assessing look.
“To the grotto,” I sighed. “I have business with the spirit there.”
Dourlek paled at the mention of the thing. “Is that wise?”
“Do you want to know Dulanzo’s secret or not?” I muttered over my shoulder as I strode down the false tunnel.
At that, Dourlek sprinted after me a few steps. “You’d really tell me?”
I sighed heavily. “I hadn’t intended to, but today … today I learned a valuable lesson. And I’m not so sure of some things as I was before learning it.”
Dourlek raised a brow at me. “You’re not making any sense.”
“It won’t make sense until we get there,” I shook my head. “I might be a little overwrought too.”
“I couldn’t get Rhemvile hidden away before they got to him,” Dourlek said impassively. “We were waylaid when the orcs came looking for Grelmuh’s female again.”
He’d tried explaining it all to me earlier, but I was too distracted. There were too many things in the air that needed managing and I was too numb to do more than just … do. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even get Ozanna past Dulanzo’s keen eyes. But it all worked out. I made everything up to Lobikno. I’d given him his prickly mate and given him his sons, even if there was only the one willing to go with him.
“Why did the two boys want to stay here?” I asked out loud, though I hadn’t really meant to.
“Because you’re the father they know,” Dourlak answered without hesitation. “You’ve done better by them than you did by me.” He shrugged and looked thoughtful.
“Lessons learned,” I agreed with a frown.
We walked the rest of the way in silence.
The grotto wasin the heart of the mountain. It took ten years of slave labor to find it, according to our history book, and the spirit that dwelled there required much appeasement before our ancestors dared to install the warband in its roots. It required fire and power and life in payment. Dulanzo’s head was the agreed upon payment for the spirits cooperation this time.
The grotto was a peculiarity for an underground structure. Bright green and blue moss grew thick along the stalactites and pillars that formed the chapel like space. There were hardy vines that crept along the ceiling, its pale-yellow blooms casting faint light across the cavern. They reflected in the still, clear water of the deep lake surrounding an island in the center of the large chamber. That’s where the sprit’s altar lay. Where our ancestors had left their offerings of magical significance and burned prisoners in sacrifice to the ancient creature that dwelt within.
Dourlek didn’t appear bothered by the burned bodies and old artifacts that were clearly visible at the bottom of the lake. Everything from swords and jewelry to chariots and horses, all somehow preserved in the waters, clearly visible from the stone bridge that crossed it. I found it disturbing as it didn’t fit in the natural order of things. Bodies should rot.
I set Dulanzo’s head on the altar and built a pyre to burn it upon with the bundle I’d asked Dourlek to carry. He raised a hand to light it for me, but I halted him.
“No,” I hissed. “The spirit said specifically to not use Irnon’s fire.”
“Why?” he asked, puzzled. “It will burn better.”
I shook my head. I wasn’t a priestess, so I couldn’t say exactly, but the creature had told me, “An offering burned in Irnon’s fire belongs only to Irnon.”
“Peculiar,” Dourlek frowned.
So I awkwardly lit the kindling with flint and watched the flames lick up around Dulanzo’s slack face, no longer frozen in confusion.
“What next?” Dourlek asked.
“The spirit will come bind itself to me when it accepts the offering.”
Dourlak’s eyes went wide with shock. “Is that what it was? All this time?”
“Yup.” I took a deep breath. “Do you want it instead?”
He furrowed his brows and watched me with narrow eyes for a moment before speaking. “Why don’t you want it?”
“Because I can’t protect shit,” I answered and rubbed my fingers over the back of my head. “I’ve failed you enough. If you can’t be stabbed, I don’t have to lose the last person I care about.”
Dourlak’s eyes darted around, as though looking for an eavesdropper or spy.
“It’s ok to say it now,” I sighed and pointed at the sizzling head on the altar. “He doesn’t hear shit anymore.”
“But whoever takes the spirit will,” Dourlak said with a deep frown. “Father, I trust you with such power. There are many here that would if they knew. But there must be more to it if you’re offering it to me.”
“No,” I shook my head. “I’m old. I’m tired. You’re young and have a good head on your shoulders. If there was one thing I could impart on you, I’m glad it was that.”
Dourlak gaped at me.
“I’d still be commander, so you wouldn’t have to take on more than you’re ready for. I’ll step aside when you’re ready, subcommander.” I winced. “Please just don’t make me do it for too long. I want to rest someday.”
“Rest is for the dead,” he replied.
“It’s really not supposed to be, son,” I drawled. “Things are going to be different.”
“All the more reason you should have this power,” he said, emphatically. “You’ll be a target.”
“And you’ll have the ears to ferret out the people that would strike me,” I explained. “You’ll be the one holding the winning hand no matter the outcome, and that’s my only selfish want now. Do you hear me, boy?!” I ended on a shout. My words echoed in the otherwise silent grotto.
“We may have to squash the city forces when they come to try and take the mountain back, but you’ll smash them with the help of the spirit, as Dulanzo has for hundreds of years now. Once they realize we are still able to stand on our own, they will relent. As long as we keep their supplies coming in, it won’t be worth destroying the mountain.”
Dourlak met my eyes and clenched is jaw. “And you trust me to maintain your new order?”
“I trust that you’ll see what’s best for the people here,” I admitted. “There’s no telling if what I’m attempting will even work. But we can’t carry on the way Dulanzo had us. We can’t carry on the way Irnon wants us to. This misery isn’t what we were meant for.” I rested my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You know Lhoris. Saw how he was, what this place did to him when he came back. He’s proof we don’t have to be this way.”
“You’d denounce Irnon?” Dourlak asked with wide eyes.
“I’ll follow the Shattered God instead of paying tribute to her, but I won’t say it publicly. That’s too much for now.”
“I don’t give a shit who you want to follow. The zealots would come knock this mountain down if we denounced Irnon altogether.”
Before I could respond, the stone island beneath our feet trembled, sending tiny ripples across the water. The rock before the altar shifted and undulated like liquid, forcing Dourlek and me to step back to the water’s edge. The swirling liquid shifted and rose into a pillar, gradually forming the head, torso, and finally limbs of a bipedal creature.
It was breathtaking. The creature’s flesh, if that’s what one could call it, was marbled in cool blues and greens with stripes of glistening gold throughout. Its figure was slender and androgenous, and its facial features were perfectly symmetrical … no mortal hand could sculpt something so striking as this creature.
It turned its face to look at me with its marble eyes and when it spoke, it sounded like something between the rush of water and wind whistling through rocky crenelation. “You’ve freed me from the yoke of this mortal’s greed.” It was the same whispering voice that had come to me and beaconed me to the grotto all those months ago. The same voice that howled around the sacred cavern, seething about its imprisonment.
I bowed to the spirit. Dourlak did the same. “As you requested in the bargain.”
The spirit nodded in reply. “I am grateful.” Then it smiled with jagged, saw like teeth. “It didn’t use even a fraction of my power, but the magic it used to do so …” It bared its teeth further in a vicious sneer. “… was painful. Insulting.” Its face smoothed back to something more placid. “I am grateful for your help.”
“I am glad to be of aid,” I said. “Will you now fulfil your part of the bargain, oh mighty spirit of the mountain?”
“No,” it said, the jagged smile returning.
My jaw dropped. Of course it wouldn’t work the way I hoped.
“Your argument was amusing, and it costs me little, very little, to lend both of you my strength,” it said, almost smug.
“Oh,” I gasped in a heavy sigh. My shoulders relaxed and slumped forward. “Yes, thank you. That is generous. We are grateful.”
The mountain spirit lifted its hand and gestured to the water. “Drink of my water, and it shall be done.” Then it melted away, reversing the process and returning to the rough stone of the island.
Dourlak was still gaping at the place the spirit had manifested with wide, nearly terrified eyes. He slowly turned them on me.
I huffed a laugh. “I hope you’re thirsty.”
We turned to look over the lake. There was a burned body just beneath the surface of the shallow water, so we walked along the edge until we found a stretch that was free of corpses. I crouched and dipped my hand into the lake. The water was too cold, stinging my skin and hissing as though my flesh were hot metal. I let it sit in my palm for a moment before raising it to my lips. It tasted sweet and slid down my throat, burning all the way to my stomach. My breath went up in curling plumes as icy tendrils spread out from my gut and through my shivering body. I’d never felt so cold before and for a moment, I wondered if I was dying. But as the invasive cold reached the ends of my fingers and toes, the warmth of my body gradually returned from the center out.
I got to my feet and found Dourlak watching me with a frown. “Did it work?” he asked.
I shrugged and pulled a dagger from my belt. “Let’s see,” I said and ran the blade across the back of my hand. It was peculiar to feel the honed edge drag across my flesh, tugging ever so slightly, but not actually cutting.
“Huh.” Dourlak nodded and went to the water to drink his own handful of magic underground lake water. He shivered and breathed steam for a few moments before testing his own flesh with the same result.
And it was finally done. The last tenuous piece of this scheme was in place, the outcome better than I could have hoped for. “Now we just need to figure out how to use the rest of the power,” I murmured to Dourlak and gave his shoulder a squeeze. He looked at my hand with confusion before meeting my eyes again.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Perhaps your talents will speed the process.”
“Maybe,” I admitted. “Either way, we have a lot of work ahead of us. Let’s get back and get started.”
And as we traversed the tunnel back to the compound, I found that my steps weren’t quite as heavy as they had been before. Not that they were springy by any means. The changes I wanted to make for my people would take time to implement. There would be resistance and reeducation, no doubt. We’d have to go slow. Make sure we don’t lose anyone else.
No more resisting our natures to appear capable of self-control, while undermining the real thing.
No more dead children.
No more waste.
It would also give me time to … grieve, I supposed. I’d never really done that before. What did that mean about my relationship with Rhemvile? Had I loved him? I must have on some level. Because one can’t love anything in Irnon’s shadow for that was the surest way to lose it.
We paused halfway down the corridor and took the time to seal the grotto away. It was a good opportunity to practice the other, most important power we’d gained from the spirit.
Tonight, I’d go to the commander’s study to send official word to Lady Umlern about the change of command. Make sure she understands that all of Dulanzo’s power transferred. Maybe start clearing out Dulanzo’s things. Tomorrow would be the start of a new era.
The thought should have inspired at least a flicker of hope, but there wasn’t any relief.