Bakkian Chronicles, Book I - The Prophecy (60 page)

Forgetting that his wife’s eyes were closed, Steve nodded. “Rather hard to forget.”

“
Anyway, I can actually see it in the keyhole. Makes me think that I could teleport the crazy thing here.”

Inexplicably, the infamous green key
appeared
in her hand. Sarah shrieked, dropping the key on the ground. It clinked several times before it came to a noisy stop, resting up against her foot.

Steve had leapt to his feet yet again. “What is it? What’s the matter?” His gaze dropped to the floor where it landed on the key. “Is that what I think it is?”

Tentatively, Sarah stooped down to pick it up. Holding the familiar key in her hand, she turned to stare at her husband, whose shocked expression mirrored her own.

“
It’s the key! What the hell! How did you get that thing here? What did you do??”

Maelnar walked over to speechless human female and took the key from her. He hefted it in his hand, and then held it close to his face, studying it meticulously. His sharp gaze found
Sarah’s
. “This is the key I crafted for the Scribes! If ye could have teleported it here at any time, why the ruddy hell did ye have me craft another one?”

“
Like I knew I could do that!”

Steve took the key from the dwarf. Holding the blasted thing in his hand, he turned to his amazed wife. “So we just risked our lives for nothing? We could have gotten this damn thing at any time?”

Sarah shook her head, taking his hand. “No, I’m pretty sure we could not have. Until we learned how to use our jhoruns, I would never have been able to teleport this thing here. I had to be able to clearly see that key in my mind. Until I could picture what I wanted, I wouldn’t have been able to retrieve it. I had to
learn
how to do that.”

“
You know what this means, babe? We can go home!”

“
Not for another two days yer not,” Maelnar gruffly corrected. “Ye asked for this cursed key, and ye will get yer damn key. Then ye can go.”

****

Rhenyon studied the green portal key, turning it over and over in his hand while Pheron and the others admired the new amethyst-colored one, admiring how the many faceted key created little spots of light everywhere.

“
If ye could get this key,” Pheron began, “then why did ye need –”

Sarah held up a hand, cutting him off.

“
Don’t. Don’t ask. I didn’t know I could get it. Never dawned on me to even try.”

Rhenyon looked up, eyeing Steve first, then Sarah.

“
This completes our mission. This is what we came to get, is it not?”

Steve nodded, pointing to the purple key. “We came for that one, but without realizing it, we acquired our old key, which is this one.”

“
And both will take ye home?”

Both nodded their heads.

“
Their majesties will be most pleased. We can begin our trek home tomorrow. We should be back in the castle in about three days.”

“
The trek to the castle?” Sarah sputtered. “Three days? I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to, mister.”

The captain bowed, giving Sarah his trademark sheepish smile. “I stand corrected, milady. With yer help, we will be back in the castle by
tomorrow
.”

Maelnar emerged from within the council chambers, with the entire Council following closely behind.

“
Lads, lass, ye have done the Kla Guur clan a tremendous service. We cannot let ye leave without a proper celebration, as ye have given us much to commemorate. Tonight, we feast in yer honor!”

Without waiting for a response, Maelnar turned and strode off, with the rest of the Council following behind like obedient puppies.

“
They sure do enjoy their celebrations, do they not?” Rhenyon chuckled. “What is one more? We have feasted to the death of the
female
guur, to the safety of the tunnels, and to the ancient pact of dwarves and humans. Have I missed any?”

“
I believe ye have missed the feast in honor of our bravery,” Pheron answered, chuckling. “That was feast number three, methinks.”

“
Aye, right. Forgot that one. My memory
escapes
me at times.”

“
From age or from ale?” Rhein asked, causing the captain to cough up half the ale he had just swallowed.

“
Ye have gone soft, sir,” Pheron said, slapping him on the back to help clear his lungs. “Imagine having to have help in defeating those guur. What kind of captain are ye, anyhow?”

“
Keep it up, lieutenant, and ye will find
yerself
mucking out Bredo’s moat before ye can even blink an eye.”

Knowing full well that his captain would
never
bestow such a chore on him, Pheron grinned.

****

The dwarves of the Kla Guur clan pulled out all the stops for their celebratory feast that night. The plaza in front of the council chambers had as many tables crammed together as would fit. Temporary hearths had been set up all throughout the city, providing additional light and warmth for those that needed it. Musicians filled the night air with gaily played ditties, encouraging those within hearing range to come dance a jig. The dwarves of the Council were decked out in their finest, displaying various ornamental robes, belts, gilded instruments, and the like.

Steve and Sarah laughed, ate, and danced well into the night. Steve quickly lost count how many times he had recounted their adventures in the depths of the earth. After succumbing to an underling’s request to hear yet again how the
female
guur had been defeated, Steve departed, leaving Sarah sitting alongside Pheron. With a grin, the lieutenant leaned forward and asked
Sarah
a question. Smiling, she accepted
Pheron’s
invitation for a dance, followed closely by invitations from Rhein and Kern. Keeping an eye on her husband, Sarah even managed to pull the reluctant captain out into the center of the square.

“
Not a good idea,” Rhenyon protested, staring down at his two left feet. “Ye are apt to get stepped on if ye persist. I am not much of a dancer, and I do not know this tune.”

“
Good. I don’t know it, either.”

Rhenyon stared at her for a few moments.

“
But ye have been dancing now for nigh half an hour! How can ye do that if ye do not know the music?”

Smiling, she took the captain’s hands. “Here we go. Eyes straight at me. Listen to the beat,” Sarah instructed, leading the hesitant soldier through some basic steps. “No, don’t look at your feet. Keep your eyes on me.”

Finished with his latest bout of storytelling, Steve turned, looking for his wife. He finally spotted her dancing with someone who was clearly way out of his comfort zone. Rhenyon was shuffling along, doing his best to keep up with the fast tempo the song demanded. Suffering sympathetic pains, Steve winced as the
captain
went to move right, catching his partner unaware, and stepping solidly on her foot.

“
Ouch!”

“
Many apologies, milady.”

“
It’s okay, you’re learning.”

“
How did ye learn the steps so fast?”

“
It’s something I could always do. I watch and listen, and though my steps might not be
exactly
right, it’s close enough.”

“
Ye are an exquisite dancer, milady.”

Unwilling to wait for the end of the song, Steve deftly cut in, sending a smiling Rhenyon back over to his comrades. Waiting in the wings for the prime opportunity, two of Maelnar’s five daughters approached the now famous soldier, asking politely if he’d honor them with a dance. Throwing his face into neutral, Rhenyon swallowed his surprise and graciously took the hand of the closest female dwarf. If not for the long, braided beard that was tucked into her belt, she might actually be fairly attractive, the captain mused.

The festivities lasted well into the night, with people dropping off to sleep wherever they were, regardless if they were sitting or standing.
Apparently
dwarves could nod off even if they were standing upright. Maybe this explained her husband, Sarah thought with a giggle. Seeing her husband fall asleep propped up on
his elbows,
or reading a book, maybe it was because he had some dwarven blood in him. Casting a sidelong glance at Steve, who appeared to be
asleep
on his feet with eyes partially closed and a lopsided grin on his face, she smiled. She was honestly surprised that he had enough mental prowess left to keep those legs moving.

For the second time in a row, Sarah had to tuck her husband into bed, and also for the second time, he was snoring before she could even remove her shoes.

****

“
On behalf of the Kla Guur clan,” Maelnar was saying, “we cannot thank the likes of ye enough. The tunnels are safe once more.”

“
I’m glad we could help,” Steve said, shaking the proffered forearm. “This has truly been an experience that I won’t ever forget.” Remembering Sarah’s last comments to their dragon friend, Steve smiled. “We count ourselves lucky to call the Kla Guur clan friends.”

“
Friends, hell,” Maelnar muttered, pulling Steve into a hug. “Ye are family now. Do not ever forget that, lad.”

The four soldiers approached, greeting each member of the Council in turn.

“
We thank our human brothers for their assistance,” Maelnar began, much more formally. “Ye have affirmed the wisdom of our ancestors in creating the pact with the humans. We are proud to honor that allegiance whenever the need arises.” The dwarf glanced across the room, where a contingent of dwarves, led by Kharus, had just entered. Smiling, he turned back to the humans. “As a token of our appreciation, our esteemed master Kharus has commissioned
special
armor for everyone, including yer fallen comrade. Master Kharus?”

Steve’s former boss turned to his group of
assistants
and began unwrapping packages.
Assembling
the first suit of armor, he called the captain over. With skilled movements, they had Rhenyon outfitted in the finest set of armor that he had ever seen. Repeating the process with the other three soldiers, Kharus then called Steve over, outfitting him with the same suit as the one the soldiers were wearing. While Steve admired the latest addition to his wardrobe, Kharus turned to Sarah, smiling warmly.

“
Ye are next, lass.”

Not sure what to expect, and not really wanting (or needing) protective clothing, Sarah
approached
. However, the garments Kharus held out to her had her staring open-mouthed. The fabric the dwarf craftsman presented to her didn’t even come close to resembling the suits of armor the others were wearing. What she was looking at was a much thinner, much stronger variant of the dwarves’ special metal, bryl, which had been deftly woven into the fabric of the light purple gown being presented to her.

This was armor? Sarah ran her fingers through the material, rubbing them together. The fabric felt like silk! This was even finer than the armor given to her by Quisen however long ago that was. This gown could effortlessly be worn to the most formal of occasions, while easily
being
worn out to dinner at their favorite restaurant. This had to be the finest dress that she had ever been given. Then she thought back to the closet full of gowns back at the castle. Her
wardrobe
here certainly outshone the one from back home, that’s for sure.