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

before slowly drawing back to Leafar. “Drow-armored and dragon-pinned. You do keep interesting company, Leafar.”

Righting himself, the drow councilman waved off the guards. Dark-orcs yielded with a gnash of teeth. Again, they must get so few opportunities.

In a pitched exhalation, Leafar slouched.

“Interesting,” said the male drow. “I am Evets. This is my fellow, Neelyam. We won’t go into full introductions just yet. I think we have much to discuss amongst each other.” Picking up a stone he knocked it against the table.

From side chambers, svirfneblin pages emerged.

Gracing their guests with surfacer common, the drowess regarded them fondly. “Our council has much to discuss. Several things should be considered. No doubt, you’ll want to refresh yourselves after your journey. And we’ll look forward to an opportunity to make amends.”

Liv smirked at Ruein. “Damn straight.”

Evets added, “Leafar, I will expect to see you during tonight’s festivities. It will be assumed that you will have brought them up to speed by then.”

As they began to depart the chambers, Ruein turned back for the crescent table. What would be done with—the headbox. It’d already been removed. She glanced around, catching a slender human departing, with others, through a door—the box in tow.

Liv’s shoulder collided with Ruein’s. Her sister smiled. “Well, that was quite the turn of events. I shudder to think how it might have gone down without me.”

Ruein glowered and considered it fortunate being already dead. Otherwise, there would be no living her down.

16

Which was more insufferable, Ruein’s concession or her sister’s knowing looks? Considering their circumstances, both were crows she’d just have to eat. These citizens might be removed from the underdark, but they remained far from forgiving.

Leafar collected the four of them and followed svirfneblin pages to their respective rooms. Ceer and Twigs in one chamber, Leafar in his own, and at the end of a windowless hall were Ruein and Liv’s accommodations.

Surrounded by the plush dual beds with mounds of throw pillows, the fine ornamental rugs, and the marble-topped desk, the only comfort Ruein partook of was the chamber’s privacy and the view beyond.

Material things had become so…meaningless.

Her sister continued to beam, not literally, but it was there in her smile. Clearly, some kick she got from a gold dragon holding sway in such a place. Ruein was well aware Liv considered azers and Haradeners devoid of divinity. Still, they did acknowledge respect to Shegar Negrath.

Liv sighed in relief once she’d extricated herself from her armor. She returned to her relaxed Lightbringer vestments and began to ask more about the council’s drowish conversations. Liv even plied Ruein for some useful undercommon phrases.

Vith it. Why not? She had a few choice words.

After a span to freshen up, citadel pages returned as escorts to their host’s event. Without a purpose for Ruein to change, she departed as armored as she’d arrived.

Ruein trailed Liv, glowering at the lightened spring in her sister’s step.

Joining midway, Leafar appeared comfortable in a set of robes. A towel was draped over his shoulder, and he tossed matching towels to Twigs and Ceer.

The bolt of cloth blanketed Twigs, causing him to stumble. “Hey now! Wasn’t it enough we upped our monthly bath for the Lightbringer? What’re these for?”

Leafar offered a slight bow. “Ho-ho! You’re ahead of the game then. Forget their dirty histories, these drow are a clean people. That said, there is bathing…” His mouth quirked up. “…and then there are baths.”

Ruein regarded their svirfneblin guide in undercommon, then translated back to Liv. “Mineral baths. Evidently, the Realm’s nature creates steaming waters with rejuvenative qualities. This is how their council chooses to spend its leisure.”

Twigs flashed Liv a smile. “Well now, I understand cleanliness is close to… enlightenment, holiness?”

Liv grimaced. “Don’t be so eager to have my body in water, Twigs. I’d be more apt to dunk you than dip.”

The strum of instruments and boisterous conversation rose as they approached. Ceer reached to ruffle at Leafar’s hair. “What better place for Ceer than getting splashy with friends?”

Leafar re-affixed himself. “And that, half-orc, is what we are here to do. You’ve all made it. My job is done. Tomorrow I take the Nurskers back to their village. But, for tonight, we have all earned this.”

The dry halls of the citadel drifted away as they waded into the damp air. Ruein took in the Haraden baths. Puddles dappled the stone floors. Various races of revelers frolicked from one basin to another. This was not an equal mix of the sexes; there were far more of the feminine variety. Unsurprising. In this respect, Haraden was no different than the rest of the world.

Ruein counted four sculpted grottos seething with clear water. It appeared as if they were being cooked alive, yet not, since no one exhibited anything other than delight. Steam wafted from each of the pools.

Catching a glimpse of Liv, Ruein took some satisfaction as her prideful gleam faded. Her sister scowled at several individuals who had dismissed bathing attire and were splaying-out in their nakedness. No doubt, troubling for such godly sorts.

Cloistered in various groups about the festivities stood members of the council. Stately conversations were being had over underdark cuisines alongside luxuries brought in by Leafar himself—various fish and other seafood—and, likely, the crustaceans had a broad appeal for those who dwell.

Seeing their arrival, the drow councilman, Evets, approached. He spread his arms in greeting. “Gentle humans, fey, and orcs, how eager you look to participate! It heartens me to have this chance to reset our relationship.” Dipping his head, he cocked an eyebrow to Liv. “Glad to see you’re unplated.”

Liv harrumphed, cracking her knuckles. “You’d have a better go at knocking blows than finding me starkers in some debaucher-pool. That is not what I am here to bring.”

“And our necromancer, as fetching as her lovely locks may be…” Evets righted himself, inspecting Ruein. Her cloak remained closed about her. “Do tell, you’re still not outfitted in that gloriously morbid work of art?”

Ruein humored with a vacant stare.

“Then might I interest you in