Catalyst (Book 1) (24 page)

Every building we passed was constructed of stone, some carved right out of the living rock of the mountain. The gray, brown, black, or white-veined buildings were far more smoothed and polished than any building I had ever seen before. Because of the way the dwarves dug, using the natural contours of the rock layers, the level of the ground rose and fell.

We walked by one building; I ran my hand over its smooth, cool surface. There were no bumps or uneven grooves. I remarked on that to Jastillian.

“Aye. These buildings need to be strong, in case of earthquakes or falling rocks, though we also take pride in craftsmanship for its own sake. And this city is also a fallback position if we get attacked and can’t hold the field. All our important buildings are here, such as the treasury, food stores, historical artifacts, records. You know, Erlam was very different when it was first constructed, all those years ago.”

I nodded. “I know. Erlam was originally a small mining town. How in the gods’ names did it get like this?” I waved my arms across the expanse.

“We needed more materials, and dug deeper and deeper into the mountains. We also liked having a good defensive readiness, and what makes for a better defense than a mountain itself? We have a saying, ‘The mountain won't move, and neither shall we.’”

I smiled. “Good point, but what about earthquakes and avalanches? How do you keep the mountain from collapsing on you?”

Jastillian stroked his bushy beard. “Despite what some of you humans think, we're not just diggers and blood-thirsty warriors. We're also builders, lad. While a lot of the things we create
are
for warfare, some things aren't. This” –he swept his arms out— “is one of them. We've used the knowledge we've acquired over the centuries to refine and perfect how we build things. Some of our engineers used their expertise to make these mountains habitable.”

“That's incredible.”

“Aye,” Jastillian said. “In my travels, I’ve learned that magic was used to help with the original beams, joints, columns, and frames, but I wasn't able to find any evidence of it in our own records. We lack a wizard's expertise.” He twiddled his beard and stared upwards. “Still, if magic were involved even a little bit, it would be a great find.”

“If I'm ever back this way, I'll check for you,” I said, looking up to see what he saw. Even now, I could make out dwarves working among the buildings. No wonder everything was so clean and in such perfect repair. I wished I was just visiting Erlam, and could sight-see.

But I wasn't.

I couldn’t get the princess out of my mind. Had Premier already brought his forces to Alexandria? Had she gambled—moved against Premier and failed? If only there was a way to know what was happening. I wasn’t leaving here without securing the dwarves’ help. If I had come all this way here for nothing, and abandoned the princess in her time of need, I would never be able to forgive myself.

I looked over my shoulder and whispered, “Krystal. Please be safe.”

Jastillian led me to a flat, rectangular building, which he said was the largest building in the mountain. We walked up a long staircase, between polished dark gray columns. There were no windows. It was far too deep in the mountains for windows to be of any use.

“Jastillian,” one of the guards said, blocking the open archway.

“Greetings.”

“I see you’ve brought a visitor, yet I’ve not been notified, which means the human doesn’t have clearance. I know it’s been a while since you’ve last been here, but there are no outsiders currently allowed into Erlam.” The dwarf shook his head wearily. “Tell me why I should admit you, instead of having your friend locked up.”

“It’s urgent. We’re going to see my mother.”

“You may see her. The human stays.”

“He’s coming too.”

The guard shook his head. “He can’t. I don’t care—”

“He’s a wizard.”

The guard stared at me, dumbfounded, before looking back to Jastillian. Then he broke into a chuckle. “He tell you that, to get you to bring him to Erlam? Not likely. Everyone knows there are no more wizards in Northern Shala.” He shared a smirk with the other guards.

“Hellsfire,” Jastillian said.

I nodded in understanding. I released my anger and frustration at being barred at every turn while people’s lives were in danger. This was taking far too long. The torch flame in my hand exploded into a fireball twice as big as my head. I dropped the torch, keeping the flame hovering in front of me. It flew towards the guards and stopped, spinning faster and faster. The guards backed away, eyes wide, hands on their weapons.

Jastillian coughed, catching my attention. He shook his head slightly.

I reached out to the fire. My hand reabsorbed it. The warmth flowed through my body as the fire disappeared from view.

The guards moved aside, still stunned.

“It's good to be home.” Jastillian smiled and clapped the guard on his shoulder as we passed through the archway and into the building.

He looked satisfied, but I had an uneasy feeling that getting the dwarves to help was going to be a lot harder than entering their city.

CHAPTER 18

“Let’s go get cleaned up before I take you to meet my mother,” Jastillian said.

“Who
is
your mother?” I asked.

“She leads Erlam.”

My eyes widened. That was great news. Hope rose within me. Maybe coming here wasn’t a waste of time.

“Think she will help?” I asked.

“I’ll do my best, lad.”

Jastillian led me through the narrow halls. Banners hung all over the place, many depicting a muscular arm wielding an axe. It was the dwarves’ symbol for strength and power, intimidating people in battle. Jastillian said that even though they were now more than just a warrior people, they kept the symbol to remind themselves of their past.

Although I was accustomed to living inside a cave, the inside of the castle was far darker than I was used to. Torches burned sporadically along the halls, but didn’t provide enough light for me. The hallways and rooms were shorter and more compact than in either of the castles in Sharald or Alexandria, or the inside of the White Mountain, making it far more crowded than I was used to. I also had to duck beneath the arches, because everything was sized for dwarves.

We moved past the common areas, heading to the more private parts of the castle. Guards eyed me, but didn’t stop me, since I was with Jastillian. Thankfully, I didn’t have to deal with them again. I was afraid I would lose control this time.

All the buildings I had seen, while strongly built and well-constructed, were boring to look at, at least from the outside. But the inside of the castle was a huge contrast to the outside. It wasn’t stark and bleak, as I’d thought it’d be. I thought of what Jastillian had said about Eostar, and about the dwarves being more than what people saw on the outside.

Instead of paintings and portraits, the dwarves used little statues made of rocks and minerals to depict great battles. In one gallery, there was a scene where dozens of tiny carved quartz crystals had been sculpted into dwarves. They fought larger Wasteland creatures made from limestone. The crystal dwarves held tiny weapons, and their faces wore perfectly carved expressions of pain or fury.

Statues stood throughout the halls. Instead of dwarves, these were fantastical creatures. There was a topaz dragon with wings unfurled, an alabaster unicorn with front legs raised, and lastly, a gold griffon with a ferocious scowl.

I stopped as we passed another room. It had a large shelf with many separate compartments. In each compartment were different minerals or rocks, all with labels clearly written in front of them. I recognized a lot of them, like gold, slate, clay, bronze, and silver. There were a whole lot more—including some I'd never seen or heard of before. A group of younger dwarves stood in front of the display as two adults tested their knowledge.

“Come on, lad,” Jastillian said, jolting me out of my gawking. “I can give you a test later on the materials found in these mountains.” He chuckled at his joke.

I tore myself away and ran to catch up to Jastillian. We reached the end of a hall, and there was a plain, wooden door with steam seeping underneath it.

Jastillian opened the door and said, “This is where you can wash up and relax, lad.”

Steam hit me and flowed over my grimy face. The warm, refreshing feeling caught me off guard. It seeped its way into my skin, and I sighed like I had just entered the heavens. In a large pool of warm water, a couple of naked dwarves were soaking.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“One of our bathhouses. Most of them are located in this building, but if you like, I can take you to one of the other rooms where you can wash yourself with a bucket and rag.”

I chuckled. “No, this will be fine.” I lost my breath at the thought of warm water I didn’t have to create myself. “Thank you, Jastillian. I’ve never seen anything remotely like this. How did you create it?”

“We didn’t, lad. We found a hot spring deep within the earth and routed the water. We dwarves need a hot bath after—” In a deep, booming voice, Jastillian sang, “‘Digging in the dirt all day, digging our own graves. Digging ‘til we reach the end, having our bodies lost in a maze.’”

I scratched my head. “What?”

Jastillian laughed. “It’s been awhile since I’ve sung. Let me give you some privacy. I know how some of you humans are with showing what the gods gave you.”

“That’s all right, you don’t—”

“Hey, you two!” Jastillian yelled.

The pair of dwarves opened their saggy eyes and said, “Jastillian!”

“We were wagering on when you'd get back,” one said. “I just lost.”

“I wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for my friend here,” Jastillian said, slapping me hard on my back.

I nodded in their direction, and they nodded back.

“I hope you two don’t mind cutting your bath short,” Jastillian said. “I promised my friend here some privacy.”

“He must have faced impossible odds to help you. Especially since you’re in those ridiculous clothes.” The two dwarves laughed at Jastillian’s expense. “We were just getting out anyway.”

The two naked dwarves got up out of the pool, dried themselves, put on some clean tunics and breeches, and took their dirty miners’ clothes with them. “It’s good to have you back, Jastillian. See you around.”

“You didn’t have to do that on my account,” I said. “I would have been fine if those two were in here.”

“Nonsense, lad. It was the least I could do. I’m going to get out of these rags and get dressed. We have to look presentable for my mother. I’m sure she’ll be on our side and will wish to send help to Alexandria. The problem is getting the others to vote with us.”

“How can we do that?”

Jastillian played with his bushy beard. “As a wizard, you’re going to have to convince them Alexandria needs more help than the elves. Try to think of something persuasive to say.”

I stared at him. I’d figured that he would do most of the talking. “Like what?”

He wiped drops of condensation from his forehead. “The truth. Speak with your heart and you’ll convince them. Some of the people that will oppose us will be very vocal. Don’t back down from them. We still respect strength. If you speak from that position, people will listen to you more.”

I nodded.

“Good. I’ll be back in an hour or so. Enjoy your bath. Not many outsiders get to experience these baths, and even fewer get to enjoy them in peace. Hang up the towels when you’re done.” Jastillian smiled. “Have fun.”

I took off my heavy wizard’s robe and boots, then my tunic and other undergarments. I crept into the heated pool, savoring every precious moment. I melted and moaned the second the water touched my skin. It was warm and comforting.

I grabbed some sponges and washed myself clean of the trials I’d been through. While I scrubbed the dirt out from under my fingernails, I couldn't help but think of the princess and what she might be going through now. She was strong, but Premier was a wizard.

I was thankful for Jastillian’s advice in dealing with other dwarves. Erlam’s ruling council was going to be a lot harder to convince than King Sharald. I wished I could have seen more of Erlam. I needed to get a feel for how the dwarves thought and what they cared about. The only thing I knew was that they didn’t care about me. That didn’t bother me. What bothered me was, did they care about Alexandria or the creatures from the Wastelands?

I sighed and squatted down farther in the water, dunking my head in. I thought about the arguments the dwarves might have and how I could counter them. I wasn’t a diplomat or a politician or any good with words. I couldn’t do this. It wasn’t good enough to try. I had to succeed. I must succeed.

I rinsed myself off. The now-brown water floated by and then circulated away, taking with it my thoughts and frustrations.

 
When I was done cleaning myself, I leaned back against the edge of the pool and drifted away, becoming lost in the serenity around me. The purple bruises on my thighs didn't bother me, nor did my sore muscles. My exhausted body was at peace in the warm water. It wanted me to sleep, but my mind wouldn’t let me.

I kept thinking about the girl who needed my help, the wizard who stood in my way, and the dwarves I had to convince. To calm my nerves and clear my mind, I practiced my magic.

I latched onto the water mana, creating three gigantic bubbles in the pool. I used air to force them to rise out of the water. They hovered in front of me, and then I sent them flying around the room, bringing them to a halt before they hit anything and burst. I summoned them in front of me once more, then raised my hand out of the pool. A stream of fire came forth, popping all three bubbles.

I created five more bubbles. I zipped these around the room while I shot fire out of my hands. It was a simple exercise, but using more than one type of mana simultaneously always was a strain on the user. Often-times, you had to grasp the mana both from inside yourself and from the environment. It would divide your attention and concentration and burden your mind, will, and body.

I crafted both the fire and the water into more complicated shapes as my exercise went on. Water in the shape of cats was chased down by fire dogs. Water flies flew by before being munched by a fiery praying mantis. The magic electrified the room, fire and water splashing and sizzling everywhere.

I breathed heavily, letting the exercise clear my mind, focusing only on the magic and what I had to do to maintain it. I went faster, and my spells became stronger every time I thought of Premier and how he had mocked me and wanted to harm the princess. I got so absorbed that I didn’t hear Jastillian come in.

“Lad,” Jastillian said.

His voice broke my concentration, and my fire dissipated. The water in the air stopped dead before plummeting to the ground. Water splashed on my head. I wiped it from my eyes.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jastillian said.

“That’s all right. I was just performing some exercises.” I put a wrinkled hand to my throbbing forehead. The magic must have taken more out of me than I thought. I looked around the room, noticing that water had gotten everywhere. “Sorry about the mess.”

Jastillian laughed. “Nothing to forgive, lad. It's only water and it'll dry up sooner or later. That was quite an impressive show you just put on. It never ceases to amaze me, the things you wizards can do.”

Jastillian loomed over me, wearing short black breeches. They matched his
gorget
, and his tight red tunic showed off his muscles. The colors, combined with his size, gave him a commanding presence. His beard was also trimmed, now only down to his chest. But the most notable thing about him was the huge battle-ax strapped to his back.

“You look good,” I said.

“Aye, I must say it feels good to be cleaned, shaved, and have clothes that fit. But what really makes me feel good is to have some kind of weapon on me. Even though this isn’t my true weapon.”

“It isn’t?”

“Premier took my weapon!” Jastillian clenched his fist and growled. “I’m going to get it back, even if I have to pry it from his dead corpse.”

“What’s so special about the weapon? Is it expensive or something?”

Jastillian laughed. “No, lad. We teach that
all
weapons are special. They’re used to defend you, your home, and the ones you love. And that weapon was an ancient relic I got from the war and had repaired. It’s impossible to replace, and I went through a lot to get it.”

“Were your wounds tended?”

“Our healers patched me up well enough. I had to send them away when they wanted me to rest.” Jastillian frowned, and his right cheek muscle flexed. “I must warn you. After talking with my mother, it's going to be a lot more difficult than I thought to get our army to help. There will be…resistance. There will be those who oppose us. It's them you must convince. You must secure three-fourths of the table.”