Ruein: Fires of Haraden: Action/Adventure Necromancy Series (Books of Ruein Book 2), G.O. Turner [little bear else holmelund minarik txt] 📗

“Even if the drow outpost was defeated…” Ruein sat up, coins dropping to her gauntlets. “I doubt the council of matrons would surrender up their prize that easily. Surely, they’d respond.”

Leafar smiled. “Yes. Well, they’d no way to cross over. A sea of magma is a hell of a barrier against the deep. No one besides the azers can cross the molten wall between Haraden and the underdark.”

Ruein shook her head. “It wouldn’t be that simple. They could just—”

“Magic their way? Mystically summon an army on the other side?” Leafar reached over Liv’s lap to repeat his skillet trick for the half-orc. “You can bet they tried.”

“But it didn’t work?” said Ruein.

Leafar offered up to the necromancer. Ruein raised a hand. Yeah. She wasn’t hungry. Twigs’ stifled disgust was answer enough.

“More for me!” Leafar settled back with the remainder. “Ole Monastas was there from the beginning. Every attempt to wizard a way between failed. Eventually, he figured it out. That open dimensional rift threw all the Realm into a jumble. Even his own spells couldn’t whisk him from one place to another. It’s why I have a job! You want goods from the outside, you come see Leafar.”

“What of the slaves? The azers rescued them?” asked Liv.

Leafar managed through a mouthful, “From the drow? Yes. Certainly. They may be hot bastards, but they’re not evil. Those that survived the incursion were grateful. They adopted the azer’s crafty ways. Eventually, everything balanced out. Together they remastered a city that harkened to the azer’s own home.”

“Haraden,” said Twigs.

“Glad to see you kept up.” Leafar nodded.

Liv leaned into Leafar, locking eyes. “That’s it? I grant you, it’s quite a tale. Yet, why in the fuck should we be concerned?”

Their host paused, lowering his meal. He looked at each of them. “On their plane, there exists a vast city of brass. I haven’t the fortitude to survive a visit, much less see it. However, these azers built that wonder…only to be betrayed. Evil genies, the Efreeti, took the city for their own. Some azers reforged a life here. It took time, but Haraden found a balance. It’s theirs.”

Leafar sucked in a breath and held it.

He turned his bushy brow to stare up at the emblem on Liv’s headdress.

“I wondered about telling this…or not. You know, just in case.” Leafar held her gaze. “About a month ago, a pack of rowdies…rogues really…took our caravan at the point of blades. It was clear they had an agenda. Didn’t much care to share what it was. Yet, somehow, they’d figured out we were the only route to Haraden. And they very much wanted in.”

Skillet in hand, he widened his arms toward the group. “So, I obliged them. Brought them all the way through.”

Leafar snapped to Liv. “They didn’t last a league.”

His fork toyed at the eggs in the pan. “Those that weren’t cut down outright, surrendered up quickly at being so outmatched. Haraden defends their home. I can assure you, no one is taking that away again.” His head settled with a sigh at his breakfast. “You say you’re here to help?”

“We are,” said Liv.

“For your sakes”—he gazed again at Liv—“that better be all.”

Bags under Leafar’s eyes became noticeable. A sullenness pressed upon his shoulders. Dropping his fork into unfinished eggs, he collected the spent cookware and returned to the galley.

Liv looked to her teammates. What reflected back mirrored her concerns. Fire elementals, underdarkers—these were the ones they were there to aid.

12

A constant thrum rolled through the carriage and into Ruein’s seat. Their accommodations shifted over the varying drifts outside. It was more than the path beneath. Angry winds shoved at their compartment. Being away from that crystalizing cold, Liv and the others were well off here. They’d grown warm by the carriage hearth.

Hell of a lot better here than the Stygian weather. Outside, Nurskers were bundled and strapped to their wagons.

For Arim and Nayr, Winter’s reach remained a few weeks away. The kids had their love of the season. Nayr’s meld of imagination and snow provided him a ready collection of crafted playmates: snow turtles, dolphins, and bears. Along with his menagerie, they’d assail his sister’s snow forts.

A corner of Ruein’s lip twitched up.

As time passed, these thoughts dithered around the unmoving space in her chest. She could hold them once more—Rue’s children. She would do that again…just as soon as her task was done. Ruein steeped herself in those thoughts as the leagues pressed on.

Liv affirmed her morning prayers. Ceer meditated by the back door, gazing at the world outside. The two gnomes regaled themselves on travels and encounters as the caravan continued across the tundra.

Ruein had grown accustomed to the triviality spanning such moments. Yet, not being aware of where they were, a creeping vulnerability wormed into her thoughts.

Rising, she steadied herself by the rafters and moved to join Ceer at the back hatch. She cleared her throat to signal her proximity. The half-orc tore his gaze from the window and acknowledged her with a nod.

“So, is it everything he says it is?” asked Ruein.

Ceer shrugged. “Ceer watch. Nothing. Only wagon behind. All beyond is gray, snow white, little light. We travel swift, but Ceer lost track of bends long ago. Ceer knows up and Ceer knows down. All other ways same-same. Good as blind. Leafar is only way back.”

Ruein grimaced. “Would a compass help?”

“Comp pass? Oh, sailor’s needle box.” Ceer shook his head. “Wagon make many turns. Moving through passes, valleys. Needle box only give direction. Not which path isn’t dead end.”

“Well, here’s to us staying on good terms then,” said Ruein.

Ceer snorted. “Or long stay.”

A single, distant chime dinged. The carriage bell above.

Reverberating over a league ahead, a deep boom rumbled out and over them. Ceer, Liv, and Ruein snapped to the carriage front. A grating roar began to build from that direction. Raw, graveling, it rose as they approached. Intensity tugged at Ruein to