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

escaping these conditions for cooler climes?” He half-bowed, gesturing to an open balcony. The night had already rolled in, yet an orange reflection flickered along the railing’s undersides.

Taking his cue, Leafar disrobed. He scratched at his chest tuft, while his dangly bits greeted for all Haraden.

Liv winced, averting her eyes.

Leafar cracked his towel against Twigs backside, then turned and bolted for the nearest grotto. Twigs glared at Ceer, a query if his friend would allow this to stand.

Tugging off his jerkin and trousers, Ceer tossed them upon their svirfneblin page. “Leafar hear Ceer’s tale of the wyvern and the fist?” The half-orc sauntered to Leafar’s bath and waded in.

Twigs cleared his throat and shrugged off his clothes. He regarded the Lightbringer. “You know, it is a natural thing. The more you holies deny yourselves, the less in tune with the world you are. I mean, how good could it be to resist what comes naturally?”

As if he’d flicked her forehead, Liv cocked an eye at the gnome. Her retort riled up too late for Twigs, seeing as he’d already lunged for the same hot tub. The svirfneblin stooped to gather his articles as well.

“Would seem they’ve found what makes them comfortable.” Stifling a grin, Evets leaned back. “Ladies, shall we?”

With Liv now flummoxed, Ruein contented herself with the easy exit. She strode forward as Liv grumbled behind. Trailing them, Evets waved to several women of the house. A gesture to the two gnomes and the half-orc got their understanding. A slender, pixie-haired one’s eyes seemed to linger on Liv as the brunette and a fair-haired drowess passed. The women descended upon the bath, proffered smiles proceeding them.

With the night overhead, the warmth from the baths faded. In its place, the overcast spiral crowded in over the open sky. The more immediate clouds rolled darker than before. The shimmer of the volcano reflected a warmth against the enclosing blanket above. Looking over the city lights and the walls beyond, Ruein scanned what she could of the distant farmlands. The false suns which previously dotted the landscape had been extinguished for the evening.

Councilman Evets paused some steps behind. “Haraden makes a point of not apologizing for acts within. We prize that which we have achieved here, and are very protective not to have just any outsiders inserting themselves.”

“I can understand why. The underdark can be…unforgiving.” Ruein’s hundred-yard stare feathered out to the nothingness ahead, neither paying heed to the drow nor to anything else.

Evets half smirked. “Now, that might be an understatement. I understand life in the dark engrains habits that are difficult to break.”

Liv’s arms crossed to their usual place. “Guess that’s about as close as we get to an apology. This the part where you ‘make amends’?”

The drow’s smile tightened as he gathered his fair hair into a tail. Evets moved past them to rest upon the balcony rail. He turned in favor of the climbing citadel exterior. “No doubt you find our realm impressive by your surface standards. Yet, I’ve little doubt that you’ll find our storms even more so.”

Following his gaze, Ruein moved away from the building to gain a vantage of the spire’s rise. The brass-and-bronze plating artfully turned, cantilevered, and shunted at right angles. A flicker snatched at Ruein’s attention, a blue rip arced between plates. It seemed a lick of lightning had found a place of play in that span, then was gone.

Evets leaned in. “Looks as if we are brewing for a good one soon. Quite the marvel our kind would never see in the down below. The mixture of minerals and steam, suffused through arctic air and combined with the heat… When driven by a storm against the Apex citadel, I am confident you will see quite the show.”

With a crick, Ruein’s head snapped to Evets. “You have a need to resolve some deaths.”

“Yes.” Evets regarded his polished boots, then Ruein. “These disappearances in the farmlands… I’m afraid have been quite brutal. We of the council have been able to keep the citizenry unafraid. However, our farmers provide for the vast majority of us. Those humans the council considers to be irreplaceable. None of our underkind have experience with surface dirt. Far better to leave it to yours. While our Guard Elite has been endeavoring to uncover the culprit, we were content to leave it outside our city walls.”

Liv’s eyes tightened on the drow. “You were what?”

“Worried over your kin? Yes.” Evets shrugged and leaned back. “We’d little doubt that eventually our forces would somehow umber-hulk it from wherever it hid. We even took to seeing if our healers could uncover something of use. Brought back a fresh kill for the tenders. That invited the slayer into carrying its thirst inside our Apex walls. After that, well…interest in becoming involved waned.”

“The victim that you sent,” said Ruein.

Evets nodded. “Was hoping Vrimon would get some sense of what transpired. Were you able to find him…useful?”

Ruein tilted her head. “We’ll get to that. Tell me more.”

“The Council was confident, with Vrimon’s history, that discretion would be maintained. The last thing Haraden could afford is an abandonment of the farmlands. Do we have your understanding, necromancer?” Evets stepped forward, inspecting her. “Would you have the arcanity to wade through to our solution?”

Liv stepped between them. “This thing has been out there killing for how long now? And you’re just leaving them all ignorant?”

“We’ve posted warnings. Providing those of your race are reading abled, they will be safe so long as they heed. Take heart, cleric. Since our Tender’s demise, there’ve been no additional bodies found. Here we thought gossip of Vrimon’s pending arrival may have scared the thing. Knowing you have come, I wonder how it will react now?” Evets looked over to Ruein.

His judgment had its sway.

They’d traveled so far with little to show. What Ruein had gleaned from the boxed head wasn’t nothing, yet it didn’t seem to lead anywhere.

Her illusory blue eyes drifted out over the railing. So many moving pieces in an