The Quest for the Trilogy: Boneslicer; Seaspray; Deathwhisper (58 page)

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Authors: Mel Odom

BOOK: The Quest for the Trilogy: Boneslicer; Seaspray; Deathwhisper
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“But the defenders in that place were betrayed,” Craugh said.
“If Lord Kharrion was after the weapons, if he knew they were hammered from the vidrenium, maybe he did something to betray them.”
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“There's also the fact that the bow reinforcements were stolen from Master Oskarr's forge,” Craugh reminded.
“Yes.”
“Also, Sokadir also didn't like knowing you were spying on him.”
“An honest reaction,” Wick said. “Anyone, especially an elf who values his privacy, would feel the same way.”
“Would they?” Craugh puffed on his pipe and the smoke formed an owl with wide, sweeping wings that flew around his pointed hat. “His reaction seemed a little … extreme.”
“He's an elf.”
“An elf with a guilty conscience, I wonder?” Craugh mused.
Wick shook his head. “His two sons, Qardak and Palagan, died there in that canyon, Craugh. What manner of person would sacrifice his sons to further his own ends?”
“A truly evil one.” Craugh's green eyes held sparks that eddied within their depths. “A man with no conscience.”
He talks like he knows what he's talking about
, Wick realized.
How much does he know that I don't?
“Have you ever known such a man, Librarian Lamplighter?” Craugh asked.
“I've seen them.”
Craugh smiled, but the effort held no warmth and no gentleness. “You've seen them in your travels, and you've read about them in your books, but you haven't really
known
them.” He took another puff and the owl figure was overtaken and slashed to pieces by a smoke dragon. “They're out there, and doubtless we're going to be up against one.”
We're
. Wick took heart in that.
We
didn't mean a wizard and an ungainly toad. So he didn't have to worry about that. However,
we
also meant that any danger that came Craugh's way would doubtless come Wick's as well. The choice between the two fates wasn't pleasant.
“You still have a chance to get clear of this thing,” Craugh said.
Do you want me to leave?
Wick wanted to ask. But he couldn't. He feared the answer. Craugh might tell him to leave, then they would both be stuck with what the wizard claimed were his wishes.
If you wanted me to leave, you would have sent me back to the ship.
But even then, Wick had to wonder if he was being manipulated. Craugh was that good, he knew. Good enough to make him convince himself that what he was doing was totally of his own volition.
I should go
, Wick told himself, and he thought he was going to say exactly that when he heard himself saying, “No. I'm going to stay.”
Craugh appeared to be both relaxed and perturbed at the same time. He leaned back in his chair and sighed.
Thinking that Craugh might suddenly usurp control over his presence there, Wick said, “I'm a member of
One-Eyed Peggie
's crew.”
“So?”
“So Cap'n Farok can keep watch over us through the monster's eye,” Wick said. “If we get into trouble, he can send Hallekk and the crew to help.”
Craugh puffed on his pipe for a moment. “If we get into trouble, Second Level Librarian Lamplighter, it may well be beyond the scope of
One-Eyed Peggie
and her crew's ability to help us. That I can promise you.”
Wick felt the anger seething beneath Craugh, but he didn't know if the wizard was angry at him or something else.
At that moment, a group of goblinkin who'd been talking among themselves and sometimes looking in Craugh and Wick's direction scooted back their chairs and approached.
This
, Wick told himself,
can't be good
.
Trouble at the Big Ol' Bear's Tavern
“
H
ey, graybeard,” the biggest goblin said, placing his fists on his belt. “We notice ye have a halfer there.”
Craugh smiled, and there seemed to be a flicker of interest and honest amusement there. “I do.”
“Thought maybe we'd take him off yer hands,” the goblinkin said.
“And why would you want to do that?” Craugh asked.
The goblinkin grinned as if the answer to that were the easiest thing in the world. “Why, to fill me stewpot, that's why.”
The other four goblinkin with him laughed and elbowed each other in the ribs at their friend's joke.
“Fascinating,” Craugh said.
Wick felt sick at his stomach. Though he hadn't wanted to leave Craugh on his own, staying aboard
One-Eyed Peggie
was looking better all the time.
“We'd be willin' to pay ye,” the goblinkin said. “A fair price, of course.”
Green embers circled Craugh's staff and occasionally issued from his eyes. “Of course. I'm sure that you would.”
Cautiously, afraid he knew what was coming, Wick stretched his legs down and put his toes on the hardwood floor. He gripped the edge of the table, prepared to throw himself under it.
“Unfortunately,” Craugh went on, “this particular halfer isn't for sale. I'm not done with him yet.”
The goblinkin frowned. He reeled a little unsteadily, mute
testimony to how much ale and spirits he'd consumed. “We come over here to get us a halfer. Come to take him to supper, we did.”
The other goblinkin cracked up at the old joke.
“We ain't leavin' without what we come fer,” the goblinkin said harshly. “Won't be any problem to fold ye up into that stewpot as well, graybeard.”
Craugh laughed, and it was a full-throated roar that Wick had seldom heard. Generally that reaction only came from two different sources: either something had truly tickled the wizard's funny bone, or else he was about to wreak a vicious smiting on some hapless enemy.
Wick knew which it was to be this time.
“Mayhap you'd like to try to take him,” Craugh invited in a soft voice.
The lead goblinkin drew his sword, followed quickly by the others unlimbering their weapons.
“You amuse me,” Craugh said. “Truly you do. But it's an amusement that will grow old quickly.” He lifted his staff and slammed it down against the floor.
Green lightning speared from the staff and wrapped around the goblinkin swords and battle-axes. Immediately, the goblinkin started dancing, juttering and screaming as they bounced to and fro. Whenever they banged into each other, great showers of sparks erupted and lit up the whole interior of the Big Ol' Bear's Tavern.
Craugh continued laughing in great delight, but Wick sank beneath the table.
“Stupid goblinkin,” a dwarf at a nearby table muttered to his mates. “Ought to know better than to pick a fight with a wizard.”
Banging his staff against the hardwood floor again, Craugh stopped the lightning. The goblinkin spilled to the floor, unconscious or dead.
Peering under the table, Craugh said, “You can come out now.”
With as much dignity as he could muster, Wick clambered from beneath the table. All eyes were on Craugh, who was bending down and going through the goblinkin's clothing. He stopped when he found a coin. “As I suspected.”
Wick tried to peer at the coin in the wizard's hand, but Craugh closed his fingers over it too quickly.
Finished with his search, Craugh straightened and looked at the tavernkeeper. “I don't hold you accountable for this.”
“Good,” the old man declared, “for I had nothin' to do with it.”
Craugh flipped his hand out. A gold coin flashed through the air. The tavernkeeper caught the coin effortlessly. “Find someone to dispose of the trash I've left. I'll not trouble you any further than that.”
“Thank ye.”
Turning, Craugh led the way through the door, ignoring the stares of the rest of the tavern's patrons. Other goblinkin sat at tables, too, but none of them seemed inclined to avenge their kin. As Wick pushed through the door, one of them even offered to rid the tavern of the bodies—for a tankard of ale.
The price of life in Torgarlk Town
, Wick thought unhappily.
Out on the street, Craugh took a deep breath and looked to the east. The Forest of Fangs and Shadows lay in that direction, miles down Never-Know Road.
“That went well,” the wizard observed.
“It did?” Wick couldn't mask his astonishment or his disapproval. “You may have killed them, Craugh.”
“Would you rather have bathed in their stewpot?” Craugh looked at him.
“No.”
“You didn't have to kill them.”
“Perhaps they're not dead. In fact, now that I think on it, I think one of them was actually playing possum and another was twitching his foot.” Craugh smiled and looked back at the Big Ol' Bear's Tavern. “Mayhap they'll rejoin us in a few moments.”
“We could keep moving,” Wick suggested.
Craugh got underway. “If you're going to accompany me, we're going to do things my way.”
Wick knew he was expected to respond. “Fine,” he said.
But I don't have to like it or even take part.
Not that he could take part in flinging lightning bolts and fireballs around.
“Those goblinkin got exactly what they had coming to them,” Craugh said.
Although he didn't like goblinkin, Wick preferred putting distance between them as opposed to putting the goblinkin to death.
“After all,” Craugh went on, “they were sent there to kill us.”
That surprised Wick. He stumbled over a loose cobblestone and nearly landed on his face in a pile of steaming horse dung. Craugh's announcement, as well as the acrid scent that filled his nostrils, brought his senses to instant attention.
“How do you know they were sent there to kill us?” Wick asked.
Craugh flipped the coin he'd removed from the goblinkin's clothing into the air.
Instinctively, Wick caught the coin. It was solid and heavy. When he opened his hand, he found it was a disk, not a coin. It was embossed with a straight razor.
The Razor's Kiss thieves' guild
, Wick thought, recognizing the emblem.
“Actually,” Craugh said, “they were sent there to kill
you
. After all, you've been identified by Ryman Bey and Gujhar.”
“Oh,” Wick said. Then he realized that maybe Craugh had been leaving him behind for just that reason: because he could be identified. Now he'd marked Craugh as a target as well.
“There's nothing to be done for it now,” Craugh said. “We'll just be more careful.”
Wick followed for a while as Craugh wandered seemingly aimlessly through Torgarlk Town. Finally, he could contain his curiosity no longer. “Where are we going?”
“To find Boneslicer and Seaspray.”
“That's good.”
But don't we need an army for that?
Instead Wick asked, “Do you know where they are?”
“More or less.” Craugh took an emerald from inside his robe. Two silver dots, looking like faraway stars, gleamed in the green depths. “I'm tracking them.”
“How?”
“Through the ties Quarrel and Bulokk have with them. Now that each of
them has touched those weapons, and I'm able to use both of them and not just one, the ties are very strong.”
Wick stared into the emerald for a moment and saw that the silver stars were getting bigger and glowing more brightly. “We're getting closer to them.”
“Yes.” Craugh pocketed the gem. He gazed down the Tiers and nodded at a large house that sat by itself not far from the port. “Unless I miss my guess, that's where the weapons are.”
The house was huge, made of solid stone. A high wall ran around the estate, encompassing a forest of fruit trees and flower gardens. Stone gargoyles sat atop the wall and the house. Armed guards also held positions along the wall and at the main gate. Out in the water, anchored at a private pier with two other ships, Wick recognized
Wraith
, the ship Captain Gujhar commanded. One of the other two ships looked like the sleek black vessel Wick had encountered with Bulokk and his warriors in the Cinder Clouds Islands.
“That ship probably belongs to the Razor's Kiss guild,” Wick said.
Craugh nodded. “It does.”
Wick hesitated. He hated pointing out the shortcomings of Craugh's plans. On the other hand, he would truly hate to get caught by their enemies because of them.
“Do you really think the two of us—you and I—are going to be able to break into that house and steal Boneslicer and Seaspray?” Wick asked. “I mean, there's just the two of us. Even if we're very clever, and I know that we're clever because
you're
clever, and I would
never
intimate otherwise no matter how dumb an idea you concocted—”
“No matter how
dumb
?” Craugh asked archly.
Wick thought quickly. Dumb was a, well,
dumb
word choice. He was a Librarian, after all. A Second Level Librarian, no less. He knew words. Lots of words. Surely there was another word that wouldn't be quite so acrimonious as
dumb
. (Or as potentially toadifying!) But he quickly rejected
stupid
,
asinine
,
thoughtless
, and forty others in half as many languages.
“Did I say dumb?” Wick asked. “I didn't mean dumb. Dumb must have slipped out. I'm tired. We just had a close encounter of the goblinkin kind in the Big Ol' Bear's Tavern. I'm sure I'm not thinking straight. I'm sure I didn't mean dumb.
Dumb
would be a totally inaccurate assessement of our current situation and your ability to—”
“Quiet,” Craugh growled. “Don't make me regret relenting and letting you come along.”
Wick mimed locking his lips with a key and throwing the key away.
“Of course I don't expect the two of us to manage that feat,” Craugh said.
Wick sighed with relief.
“That's why I've recruited help.”
 
 
It took another hour to reach the top of the Tiers where the poor lived and cheap lodging was available. Staying silent that long, not knowing where they were
going or who Craugh had “recruited” to aid them in the proposed break-in made the little Librarian intensely curious and anxious.
At the top of the Tiers, the housing was hardscrabble and dilapidated. Almost as many houses stood empty—roofs falling in, walls broken, windows empty—as held residents. The residents were living piled one on another. The economy of Torgarlk Town quickly broke into those who had (fierce and uncaring and bloodthirsty) and those who had not (who were willing or forced to live on the scraps offered or left by those who had).
Wick's heart went out to the wan and hungry faces of the children he saw playing in the alleys or helping their fathers with work, mending nets or smoking fish, or sorting through trash that had been brought up from the houses and shops farther down the Tiers. The poor or economically disadvantaged were never seen in Greydawn Moors because they didn't exist.
Once he had his bearings, Craugh turned and walked to the public well, standing a short distance off to one side while citizens hauled up buckets to meet their needs. Chickens gathered around the houses looking for food, and every now and again one of the stealthier children managed to grab one. That would trigger a celebration of sorts every time, because the quick-handed hunter would run back down an alley squealing for his mother while a parade of gamins followed.
“What are we doing here?” Wick asked. He judged it safe to ask since they appeared to be doing nothing and no one showed any interest in them.
“Waiting,” Craugh said.
“Oh.” Wick waited quietly for a moment but soon grew bored. “Waiting for what?”
“For me,” a quiet voice said.
Wick turned and his heart sped up. He recognized the voice immediately. “Sonne!”
She stood just behind him, not quite two feet taller and still as slender as she'd been when he'd met her a few years ago in Hanged Elf's Point. She wore a dark blue cloak with the hood pulled up because females didn't often walk around by themselves in Torgarlk Town that Wick had seen. Under the hood of her cloak, her short-cropped blond hair hung only to her jaw. Freckles scattered over her upturned nose. Her pale green eyes crinkled as she smiled to see him.

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