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

Breaking under the deep roar, slinked a metallic staccato.

Leafar got to his feet and rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t go and crap yourselves. That’ll be the first gate. We’ve made it.”

Already midway to the rear, Liv backtracked to the carriage front, quickly shadowed by Twigs. Kneeling, she slid open the hatch and peered out. Twigs craned for a look from over her shield. The gnome chirped, “It’s hard to see what’s ahead, more light in here than out there.”

Ceer rounded back to the rear hatch. Releasing the latches, he cracked open the top portion enough for an outer handhold. His upper half disappeared outside to gain a higher vantage. Ceer called down, “Coming up on mountainside. Big door.”

Like the exhalation of something enormous, a gust swept over the carriage front.

Liv rubbed her gauntleted palm at the window, clearing the haze. “Wait. I can…” She leaned in closer. “Looks like…small fires ahead.”

Caught between Liv and Ceer, Ruein would rather just know for herself. She grabbed Ceer’s belt and tugged. He relented and slumped back in. A crusting of snow had already formed upon his brow.

Gripping the roof sill, Ruein pulled herself up. She braced her back against the door hatch and raised up for a better view. Already, the freezing creep encroached upon her eyes as she stared out.

The source of the roar was a massive door. It slowed its ascension overhead. The grind, a dense stone upon stone, rolled through the white fury around them.

Peering through a steamy haze, Ruein made out pools of orange in the mountain tunnel ahead. Puddles of heat, paralleling the tunnel’s sides, wavered in the outpouring gust. Similar to Karris refineries, this wind carried on it the reek of sulfur. Ruein tracked the boundaries of that passage as it swept overhead, ending the flurry of white. Looking back, the caravan steadily entered the huge tunnel.

Small hands grabbed the roof sill alongside her. Twigs scurried up and rested his rump on the hatch.

The carriage sled no longer rode upon snow. Now the steady roll of their wheels echoed a brittle crunch off the cavernous interior.

Ruein took in the equally massive stone door on the far side of the tunnel. She could not see lifting chains. No doubt, they were embedded somewhere within the chamber walls. As she studied the charred slab ahead, from the opposite end, the entrance slammed shut with a roar. The entirety of the caravan was now locked inside.

They continued forward. Beyond the orange pools simmering to either side, the tunnel darkened to grays.

Tugging on Ruein’s boot, Leafar groused below, “You lot are worse than pesky nephews. Here, let me get at that.”

Ruein dropped back in and stepped aside.

Leafar released the last of the latches and tipped the door back. He popped the hatch from its seat. Laying it out lengthwise, Leafar relocked it to the rear deck.

“Go on now.” Leafar crossed the hearth back to the carriage front. “You’ll all want a good look for this.” Situating within the alcove, Leafar tapped at the hatches on either side.

Their carriage slowed to a halt.

Ruein retrieved her glaive, intent on joining her team on the deck. Leafar reached back. “Do yourself and my carriage a favor… Keep your pretty head. This is not the moment to pull weapons. I’d like to keep my things stain-free.”

Her eyes flicked over the gnome, studying. He was their guide. Leafar had given no cause for doubt. Besides, it wasn’t Ruein’s only weapon. She opted to place her glaive just inside the door frame and assembled on the back deck.

Leafar single-dinged the bell. The echoing remnants of the door slam were supplanted with the forward clink of chains. A curtain of daylight rose from the ground, grinding along with the forward door’s upward draw.

“After my last tour,” Leafar said, squeezing between their legs, “the Elite might be a scosche touchy.” He made a short leap down, landing with a scrunch. The Nurskers began to unbundle and take in the heated sulfurous air. Their nervous seafaring eyes met with his as the tunnel brightened.

Leafar turned back to Ruein. A hesitancy in his stance lingered for a moment, before he headed up front where he stood, waiting on the growing clop of hooves.

Silhouettes approached single file. The elvish handiwork of the bridles, the leatherwork in their saddles, all were easily recognizable. These were underdark accoutrements. However, rather than slender drow riders, these were broader of shoulder and thicker of form, with darkened braided locks.

Avoiding the flagrance of her armor, Ruein drew her cloak in around herself.

Gray leery eyes stared as they passed. A few spied Ceer flashing tusky grins. Like him, these were half breeds, but of a darker kind. Each was outfitted in a combination of banded mail over black leathers. Lengthy white furs were clasped to their shoulders. Years of wear were apparent, as well as some prideful care. The column circled the caravan, coming up the other side. Already within that tunnel was a force of twenty.

Ceer kept his voice low. “Orcs of the Nord are busy. First bears. Now, dark elves too?”

“Shades of nature’s call,” Twigs slipped back. “Who is wooing who?”

Dark, pointed ears twitched. An Elite glared at Ceer. He flashed surprise and deflected to his gnomish friend.

Leafar’s pitched voice momentarily cut through the echoing parade of horses. His carriage-front conversation was too muddled for Ruein to pick out, but it was undercommon. This was all so strange. Sub-beings as orcs as vessels for drow offspring? It wasn’t just unheard of, Ruein was sure few if any had imagined such. Yet, clearly, here they were.

She strained to snatch what she could. Past Leafar’s brusque-casual report, was the disappointed response of the dark-orc’s leader. Would appear they’d a want for something more…challenging.

Ruein leaned into her sister. “Leafar is clearing the way. Sounds as if he doesn’t believe we’re marauders.”

A twitchy Liv looked left to right—to the columns surrounding them. “At least we’ve that going for us.”

The carriage shifted subtly. Ruein leaned for a