Mimir's Well (The Oracles of Kurnugi Book 3) (2 page)

BOOK: Mimir's Well (The Oracles of Kurnugi Book 3)
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CHAPTER 2

             

 

 

 

 

 

 

             

 

 

 

 

            
 
"
W
hat was that about my sword?" Henry pitched his voice low so their escorts couldn't hear.

              "Forgemasters are highly respected among our people," Valin said. "If one gifts a warrior with a weapon, that weapon is his, and no one may take it from him."

              "But Hephaestus isn't a dwarf."

              "It doesn't make the slightest bit of difference. Alviss is the greatest forgemaster I've ever known, not that I'd expect anyone here to admit that about a dwarf of the surface kingdoms. Still, Alviss acknowledged Hephaestus. By our laws, he is a forgemaster."

              "Are we prisoners, then?"

              Valin shrugged. "It's no different than when I first brought you before Fjalar."

              "Are all dwarves this stubborn?"

              "As the mountain," Valin said, grinning.

              The dwarves hadn't brought food for the horses, but they kept a hard pace. After a day, or what passed for a day this far underground, they came through a narrow tunnel that opened up near the top of a wide cavern. The dwarven city of Jord, capital of the kingdom of Nidavellir, stretched out before them.

              The other cities Henry had seen in Kurnugi had been small, no more than a few miles across. Even in the largest, a man on foot could make it from side to the other in a couple of hours. Jord made them look like toys. Stone towers scattered throughout the city spiraled up as high as any skyscraper Henry had ever seen. Each held a glowing white emberstone that, when combined with the rest, illuminated the town as brightly as the sun could have. The buildings stretched out for miles, everything from small houses to palace-like structures that would've covered a couple of city blocks. Some glittered with precious gems or metals, but most were grey stone. That wasn't to say that their color was uniform, though. It shifted and changed, making the city look like it was made from storm clouds. Even from this distance, he could tell the city was a flurry of activity. People flowed through the streets like blood through veins, and it took Henry several seconds to see that the streets themselves formed a pattern that could only be seen from above, that of a battle-axe crossed with a war hammer.

              "I've never seen a city so large," Andromeda said.

              Valin nodded. "It would take three days to walk from one end to the other, and that's only if you didn't stop to eat or sleep."

              Nabbi grunted and guided them down a narrow path. It took them two hours to reach the iron gates of the city. Henry gaped. Hundreds of armed dwarves stood in their way. It was a small army. Their guides never slowed, and as they neared the gates Henry saw some of the dwarves were only statues. Dwarven stonework was so intricate, and the dwarves themselves so resembled stone, that it was impossible to tell which was statue and which was warrior unless it actually moved. It looked like only a few dozen were real. After a short exchange, the guards let them into the city.

              The streets were packed with dwarves. Some stopped what they were doing to look at the humans, but most jeered at them, and every once in a while, a child would throw a pebble at them. The crowd reacted even stronger toward the horses, shouting curses and throwing rotten fruit, though how they got fruit so far underground, Henry had no idea. Oakash, Andromeda's mare, had to be spoken softly to almost the entire time to keep from spooking. Pegasus, on the other hand, seemed curious.

              "What do they have against the animals?" Henry asked.

              "They are of the surface," Valin said. "Horses don't belong down here."

              "You should have told me that before."

              "Would you have left Pegasus behind if I had?"

              Henry thought about that for a second. "No."

              "I didn't think so."

              "We'll be staying there tonight." Nabbi pointed to a building with a hammer and anvil painted on a sign over the door.

              "Why don't we go directly to the palace?" Andromeda asked.

              "Your friend wasn't exaggerating when he said it would take three days to walk across this city," Nabbi said. "We're still a day from the palace, and that only if we travel hard."

              "The horses," Henry said.

              "They know how to take care of them," Nabbi said, "even if they rarely have to."

              He motioned to a boy who ran up to Andromeda and then to Henry and took the reins. Pegasus looked at Henry before going with the boy. They disappeared around the corner, though the stable boy looked over his shoulder at Henry for several seconds. Valin let out a sigh and rolled his eyes.

              "Do we really need to do this, Nabbi?"

              "I won't let him before the king armed on your word alone," Nabbi said.

              "What are you two talking about?" Henry asked.

              "The Hammer and Anvil is run by an old forgemaster," Valin said. "Last time I was here, it catered almost exclusively to those who follow that path."

              "It still does," Nabbi said.

              Henry let out a breath. "Not this again."

              "Do you have some objection to having your weapon examined?" Nabbi asked.

              "Not really. I just don't like being the center of attention."

              Nabbi chuckled. "Don't be so arrogant. These aren't the forgemasters of the surface. They won't be easily impressed, and I can assure you, they've seen more complicated things than your sword."

              "I doubt it," Henry said, "but I wasn't really talking about the sword."

              "Oh?"

              "Never mind," Henry said. "Let's go."

              He moved past the dwarves and pushed open the door before strolling into the common room of the inn.

CHAPTER 3

             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            
 
C
onversation filled the common room. The smell of roasting meat wafted from an open door opposite the entrance, underscored by the faint scent of burning coal. No one noticed him at first, but eventually, a beardless dwarf with skin the color of red clay glanced over his shoulder. He saw Henry, and his eyes went wide. The young dwarf said something, and the other two seated at his table, a dwarf with skin and hair the same color as the surrounding stones, and a ruby eyed elder with a snowy beard, turned and gasped. The silence spread out from the table until the entire common room stared at Henry. A few, ones who Henry guessed had no talent in the magic of the forge, were asking the others what they were seeing.

              "Well, this is unexpected," Nabbi said.

              Henry shrugged. "Only to you. Can we get this over with? I'm hungry, and I'm sure you want to get an early start tomorrow."

              Nabbi glared at him but nodded and led Valin, Henry, and Andromeda to a large stone table while the rest of his men scattered and found places to sit. He ordered food from a serving maid and instructed her to get the innkeeper. Henry tried to pretend the eyes on him didn't bother him, but they made his skin crawl. A few minutes later, the tallest dwarf Henry had ever seen, almost five feet, walked into the room. He scanned the area until his steel grey eyes locked onto Henry. For a moment, he stood with the same wide-eyed shock as the rest of the room, but he got over it after a few seconds and plodded across the room to sit at their table. His mail shirt scratched against the stone chair with a sound that made Henry's hair stand on end.

              "Captain Nabbi," he said, inclining his head.

              "Master Vollr."

              The forgemaster glanced at Henry. "Quite a marvel you've brought me. I thought Gulla had lost her senses when she said the whole room went quiet at the sight of a human. Of course, she can't see...that." He gestured at Henry.

              "It caught me by surprise too," Nabbi said. "What exactly do you see?"

              "You don't know?"

              Nabbi shook his head. "We found them on the shores of Lake Tungl and are to present them to King Hreidmar tomorrow. I brought them here so you could examine his sword, but I take it there's something else you find interesting."

              "I was hurt," Henry said. "The forgemaster didn't have the ability to heal me, but he can work with flesh as easily as metal."

              "Impossible!" Vollr said. "Flesh can't be worked."

              Henry gave him a level gaze and waved his hand in front of the dwarf's face. Then, he picked up the edge of his cloak and put it on the table. "He could also work in cloth."

              Vollr looked at him in shock, but the rest of the inn erupted into whispers. Henry drew his sword and laid it on the table.

              "You might as well look at this. It's why Nabbi brought us here."

              Vollr's eyes lingered on Henry for a second before he shook his head and examined the sword. He closed his eyes and held the blade between two fingers while mumbling under his breath. A few seconds later, he opened his eyes and handed the blade back to Henry.

              "Thirty seconds ago, I would've said it was the most amazing thing I've ever seen, but now..." He bowed his head to Henry.

              "Then, it really is a forged blade," Nabbi said.

              Vollr laughed. "It's the most complex and powerful forged weapon I have ever seen."

              "I don't suppose you can tell if it really is his."

              "Not just by looking at it, but Captain, this is so far beyond me, I wouldn't know where to start in making it. I'm not even sure what it does, but I'd wager the same one who made it is the one who worked his flesh."

              "Are you sure?"

              "No, but I thought working flesh was impossible before I saw him, and it would take a greater master than any I know to make that weapon. If he says the one who worked his flesh gave him a forged weapon, I'm inclined to believe him."

              "Splendid," Valin said. "Now, if you're done questioning my word, perhaps we can see to food and rooms."

              "I had to be sure, Lord Valin." The confidence had drained out of Nabbi's voice.

              Valin grunted. A few minutes later, the serving maid brought a bowl of soup with spongy bits floating inside, along with a dark meat that was tough and gamey. Henry almost asked what it was, but then he remembered Valin talking about giant worms, and he decided he'd really rather not know.

              Throughout the meal, the innkeeper assaulted Henry with a barrage of questions before finally accepting the fact that Henry knew as little about how his flesh had been forged as a sword knew about how it was made. The constant attention of every forgemaster in the room made his skin crawl, and as soon as he'd finished his meal, Vollr led him to his room.

              The starkness of the room surprised Henry. Where the rest of the city was covered in intricate carvings, the walls of the room were bare. The "bed" was nothing more than a hard mat on the side of the room, opposite the large fireplace, which Henry suspected could double as a forge. Still, the room was better accommodations than sleeping outside on his bedroll, and sleep came easily.

CHAPTER 4

             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            
 
W
hen Nabbi woke them, Henry felt like he'd hardly slept. Outside the inn, Henry shielded his eyes. The sheer number of people out this early surprised Henry, but the light shining from the raised crystals remained constant, so he supposed there wasn't really any day or night down here. The city probably never slept.

              "Right," Henry said under his breath. "It's just an underground New York."

              The people weren't the most amazing part. He'd been so distracted on his way in that he'd missed the finer details of the buildings. Intricate carvings decorated every wall, depicting elaborate scenes. They were so detailed that Henry could make out individual threads on the clothes. They walked for hours, though without the sun, he couldn't say how many. The carvings kept on going. He never saw one repeat itself. They'd gone a few miles before he realized the carvings told a story, one so complex it took the entire city to tell. He saw dwarves fighting in battles and working with stone or metal. People other than dwarves were depicted too. A man was catching a fish. Then, the same man approached a waterfall, and again he stood and spoke with two others, one of whom had a single eye. The next scene depicted the three men standing before an enraged dwarf with a dead otter on the ground. They passed a street, and Henry could see the story progressing on the buildings there.

              "It's our history," Nabbi said when Henry asked. "Everything, from our creation to the modern day is written on these walls."

              "What is that?" Andromeda said pointing at a cliff face rising up over the buildings.

              "It's the palace," Nabbi said.

              Henry gaped as they neared it. The wall was sheer and went up at least a hundred feet and was so long that he couldn't see the end of it. A single scene had been carved into it. A massive human figure lay dead and other, smaller figures seemed to be forming the dwarves from the dead one's flesh. Gold runes, forming a large arch, had been inlaid in the midst of the dwarves.

              Nabbi approached the guards standing in front of it. One stepped forward with a hand raised. Nabbi pulled out a rolled parchment and handed it to the guard who skimmed over it. The guard grunted and made a vague gesture with his hand. Someone appeared to take their horses as the runes on the wall began to glow. A vertical seam appeared down the middle of the arch. The door swung inward, revealing a passage lined with dwarven warriors armed with spears, though Henry couldn't tell if they were real or only statues. They didn't move as Nabbi led them past, though Henry thought the eyes followed them. They walked by several branches in the hall before stopping before a large pair of double doors made of some dark stone. No sooner had they stopped, than the doors rumbled open. Henry glanced at Valin, who shrugged.

              "Did you think the title 'Stonelord' was ceremonial? All dwarven kings have dominion over the earth. Fjalar could barely do anything. None can do more than Hreidmar."

              Henry nodded and stepped into the room. He'd thought he'd seen splendor before, but that was nothing compared to the throne room of the high king of dwarfkind. It wasn't just big. It was the size of a football stadium. The floor and walls were made from gold, and so many gems covered the ceiling that he wasn't sure what it was made of. Bright red emberstones formed a path down the center of the room, and their footsteps sounded like musical notes. They were halfway across the room before Henry could make out the shining light at the end of the path. After another few minutes, it grew so bright he had to look away. Nabbi forced him forward, though the dwarf too looked at the ground. Soon, even the reflected light grew bright enough to make him shield his eyes. Nabbi and Valin fell to their knees. Henry and Andromeda did the same a heartbeat later.

              "Rise Valin," a deep voice that made Henry think of a rockslide said. "Introduce me to your guests."

              As if on cue, the light dimmed. Henry looked up and realized that Hreidmar's throne had been carved out of single diamond-like emberstone. The blinding light was now a soft white glow. The king himself was a squat dwarf wearing a robe of woven gold. His skin was the deep grey of mountain stone, and pearl white hair tumbling from his head gave him the appearance of a snow-capped peak. His eyes shimmered silver and showed all the strength of the earth itself.

              "Stonelord," Valin said respectfully. "I present Princess Andromeda of the surface kingdom of Gothia and Master Henry Alexander Gideon..."

              "Of Master Gideon, I know," the king said. "You caused quite a stir at the Hammer and Anvil; a human with forged flesh carrying one of the most powerful swords ever seen in this city. They say you can turn men to stone and that rulers who get in your way have a habit of losing their thrones."

              "That's a little bit exaggerated, Stonelord," Henry said, as he tried to avoid looking the dwarf in the eyes. "What I mean is, I could only do those things because of special circumstances."

              "Really?" Hreidmar asked. "Tell me, young human, how many rulers have you actually dethroned?"

              "Two. One in Greece when he conquered a friend's kingdom and another who tried to invade Argath." Henry said quickly. He bit his lower lip and corrected himself. "Well, three rulers if you count Frederick, but he got his throne back."

              Hreidmar stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Then, the dwarf king threw back his head and howled with laughter. The light of his throne pulsed with every breath, and Henry could almost feel the room shaking as Hreidmar laughed.

              "Why don't you tell me why you're here, young human," the king said between chuckles.

              "Fjalar said you're in the middle of a war."

              Hreidmar shrugged. "I have fought wars before." He glared at Henry. "Though rarely against humans."

              Henry raised his hands. "I'm not here to fight you, but this war is a little different."

              "So it is. These humans seem to know secret ways through the earth that even we have forgotten, and some of my own people have turned against us. The gods have been using magics hidden away so long ago that we knew of them only by legend. Never before has Odin himself ever made war on us."

              "That's because it's not Odin," Henry said.

              The dwarven king snorted. "Who else could lead the gods?"

              "Idun."

              Hreidmar's face became stony. He stepped off his throne, which dimmed to faint glimmer. The red emberstones shone brightly under his feet. He walked up to Henry, and though Henry was taller by a head, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was the smaller person.

              "What do you know, boy?"

              Henry swallowed and took a step back. "Her apples were corrupted."

              Hreidmar's face became several shades lighter until it was the color of gravel. "How do you know this?"

              "An Oracle told me."

              "Her apples are a source of life. How could they become corrupted?"

              "I don't know," Henry said. "The Oracle could only see the present. I'm here to find the one who knows the past."

              "And where is this past seeing Oracle?" the king asked.

              "I don't know," Henry said. "All I can say is that Idun has it."

              "You don't know anything about it?"

              Henry shook his head. Neither the magic mirror, which was the Oracle of the Present, nor the Oracle of Delphi, which was the Oracle of the Future, had been able to give him much information on that, though the mirror had given him an ominous warning. "It sees everything that was, and apparently, it demands a price for its knowledge."

              Hreidmar thought about that for a second. Then, his eyes widened, the stones around him brightening in response to his mood. "Mimir."

              "What?"

              "Legend says Odin plucked out his eye and hung upside down from the great tree, Yggdrasil, for nine days, with a spear in his side to gain the right to drink from the Well of Mimir which granted him the wisdom of the ages."

              "That could be it. I need to go to it. It might tell me how to stop Idun."

              Once again, the dwarven king laughed. He climbed back on his throne, causing the light in it to flicker and causing the more mundane gems to sparkle.

              "You don't do things by half measure, do you boy?"

              "What's that supposed to mean?" Henry asked.

              "Mimir's Well lies near the root of the world tree, a place where the gods meet daily to discuss their war."

              "I've been to dangerous places before," Henry said.

              "Spoken like someone who's never seen a god."

              This time, Henry was the one who snorted. "Who do you think forged my flesh?"

              Hreidmar looked to Valin. "Interesting friends you have here. Very well. I will take you at your word that you intend me no harm. Still, you can't just stroll across Bifrost to reach the well. I'd wager even you don't want to directly confront a god, especially one whose whole purpose for being is to guard that bridge."

              Henry nodded. "I'd prefer to avoid fighting one. That's the way the gods use, then?"

              "It connects Asgard to Midgard and to the great tree," the king said. "Only Thor doesn't use it for fear it would break under his weight. There's another way though. How would you feel about fighting a dragon?"

              Henry gaped at him. "What?"

              "A dragon. Do you think you can kill it?"

              "Are you serious?"

              Hreidmar shrugged. "Yggdrasil lies at the center of all creation. Those worlds its roots don't touch, its branches do. I know of a root touching this world. You could climb it if you think you could defeat the dragon guarding the way."

              "So you're saying my only options are to fight a god or fight a dragon?"

              "If there are others, I don't know them."

              Henry glanced at his companions. Andromeda shrugged and shifted her weight. Absently, she ran her foot along an emberstone at her feet. Its light dimmed, as if it were shying away from a human touch. Valin grunted and stepped forward.

              "Stonelord, you said all the gods, save Thor, use Bifrost."

              "You don't want to fight Heimdall or the dragon at the base of the tree, but you want to brave a valley only the strongest of gods dare to cross?"

              "I take it Lord Heimdall can't be avoided?" Valin asked.

              "He's a bridge guardian," Hreidmar said, shaking his head.

              "Neither can the dragon?" The king shook his head. "But it should be possible to pass through the valley unseen."

              "Perhaps," Hreidmar said slowly, "but that valley isn't a part of any world. It's a thing of borders and boundaries. The things that exist there are...wrong."

              "It still sounds like our best option," Henry said. "How do we get there?"

              "That's another problem," Hreidmar said. "I haven't the slightest idea."

              "Who would then?"

              Hreidmar paused for a second. Nabbi brought his hand to his forehead and shook his head. Finally, the king sighed. "Andvari, the stoneless."

              Valin cursed.

              "What is it?" Henry asked.

              "A stoneless is a dwarf who has turned his back on earth and stone. He is no longer a dwarf in any way, save body."

              "But he was one of us once," Hreidmar said. "He just might be willing to help us."

              "OK, fine," Henry huffed. "That still doesn't tell us where to find him."

              Valin sighed and turned to Henry. "Do you remember the lake that I wasn't sure was poisonous?"

              "You said you were sure it wasn't."

              "Yes, well, I may have exaggerated my certainty a little. Anyway, Andvari lives on the shores of a lake that is poisonous. In fact, once Andromeda drank from Lake Tungl, I worried it might actually be Lake Eitr. That's where Andvari lives."

              "Fine," Henry said. "Let's go."

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