The King's Ring (The Netherworld Gate Book 2) (13 page)

“Why not tie the ring to a stone and throw it into the ocean?” Phinean asked as Elroa rifled through a drawer.

Elroa turned on Phinean with a sharply arched eyebrow. “And leave it for the merfolk to find? What good would that do?”

Jaleal took another bite of venison as he watched the exchange between the two.

“Merfolk can’t walk. So they would never be able to open the gate,” Phinean reasoned.

Elroa shook his head and slammed the drawer shut. “Merfolk are fickle. Who is to say they wouldn’t sell it to some adventurer later on? No, the ring must be protected by someone we can trust. That is why Jahre gave it to me.”

Jaleal wanted to ask about the merfolk, but now did not seem like the opportune moment to satisfy his curiosity. Instead, he swallowed his juicy mouthful of deer meat and then posed a different question. “Why not destroy the ring?” he asked.

Elroa shrugged. “Where might we do that?” he asked in return. “The enchantments on it are such that only a dragon’s fire could devour it.”

“Well,” Jaleal started with a shrug. “What about the white dragon that King Dailex rode?”

Elroa shook his head and waved his hands impatiently. “No, that won’t work. The dragon is dead. There are no more dragons in this part of the world. Besides, Jahre forbade me from destroying it.”

“Why is that?” Jaleal pressed.

Elroa sighed. “Who are you, exactly?” Elroa asked pointedly.

Jaleal pointed to Phinean. “Ask him, he’s the one who brought me here.” Jaleal took another bite of his food as he watched Elroa turn a piercing glare on Phinean. In Phinean’s haste, he had not properly introduced Jaleal to Elroa. He had stated only that he was a friend. Now that Elroa had posed the question, Jaleal thought it best that Phinean answer.

“Well…” Phinean began to explain but then he frowned as he apparently lost the words he was thinking of. The gnome frowned and pouted his lips out as his brow knit together.

“Who is he?” Elroa asked. “How do you know he can be trusted?”

Phinean’s eyes lit up at that question. “Because Jahre told me to get him. The sage believed he could help us.” Phinean pointed to Jaleal. “He has the Goresym.”

Elroa glanced between the two of them. It was obvious by the expression on his face that he didn’t know what Phinean was talking about.

Jaleal swallowed his food and wiped the corners of his mouth. “Phinean, are you certain that Jahre told Elroa everything about the assassin and the Goresym?”

Elroa answered first. “Jahre told me someone may come for the ring, in time. He didn’t tell me about anything called a Goresym.”

Jaleal stood from the table and folded his arms. “I say our best course of action is to destroy the ring.”

Elroa blanched. “No.”

“Give it to me, I will take it back to the Middle Kingdom. Find as many elves as you need to send me back. You keep the Goresym, I take the ring and destroy it.” Jaleal smiled and puffed out his chest proudly, as though he had identified the simplest solution.

“If you destroy the ring, a great evil will fall upon us.”

“He is right,” Phinean said. “Our job is to use the Goresym. We must bring balance to the human warrior.” Phinean turned a stern eye on Jaleal. “Remember what I told you before?”

Elroa turned to Phinean. “Are you saying that this human is the one of whom Jahre spoke?”

Phinean nodded. “That’s what I have been trying to say.”

Elroa reached his left hand into a pocket and stood still. “Jahre told me that the one who came for it should be allowed to have the ring. He did not mention anything about an assassin killing him, or that anyone would hunt me for the ring. Are you certain this is the right person?”

“When was the last time you spoke with Jahre?” Jaleal asked Elroa.

“Twenty years ago, perhaps a few more,” Elroa said. “He had given me the ring to protect right after the banishment was completed, but he came to me some time ago and said that someone would come for the ring. He said I would know him because Jahre himself would give him a seal, or a token to show me it was the right man. Jahre told me that I was to give him the ring.”

Phinean gathered himself and spoke more eloquently than he had ever done previously in Jaleal’s presence. “Jahre has made a mistake,” Phinean said with a heartbroken sigh. “The man who was supposed to come for the ring has fallen into an evil snare. He slew Jahre and stole the Tomni’Tai scroll. He murdered Svetli’Tai Kruks, and demolished much of Medlas. More than that, he has Drekk’hul.”

Elroa’s eyebrows shot up and he shook his head as his mouth went slack. “No, it cannot be.”

“Whatever the reason, we may never know, but the man has been corrupted. Jahre believed that the Goresym may bring balance back to the warrior, and thus restore him to his former destiny, but if not…”

Jaleal brought out his spear and stamped it on the ground. “Then we stop him,” he said confidently.

Elroa nodded as he chewed on the words Phinean had just spoken. After a while he turned to Jaleal. “Can I see the Goresym?”

“Show me yours and I will show you mine,” Jaleal said.

Elroa moved his hand to a chain around his neck. He lifted it up to display a brilliant ring of silver. A large emerald was set in the ring and it sparkled brilliantly. Jaleal brought out the fist-sized blue gem and held it out. It hummed and vibrated slightly as the light bounced off its myriad surfaces.

“What does it do?” Elroa asked.

Jaleal shrugged and opened his mouth to say he wasn’t sure, but Phinean cut in quickly.

“It helps an individual find balance. It can counter Drekk’hul’s magic.” Phinean then pointed to the day pack. “Come, you must hurry. I don’t know how long it will be before the assassin arrives, and we must finish preparing the tower.”

Elroa concealed the ring again and then nodded. “Best of luck to you both. Jahre was a good friend. He may have had his faults, but he was always trying to make the realm a better place, and that is why I have been his faithful servant these many years since the Sierri’Tai were banished.”

The tall elf glanced around his room once more and then swept up his pack, slinging it over his shoulder and then disappearing down the stairs without another word.

“One question,” Jaleal said as he moved closer to Phinean. “If this human does get his senses back, and regains his former destiny, then how do we find Elroa again?”

Phinean shrugged. “I imagine we could just ask the Svetli’Tai Kruks for their help.”

Jaleal shot Phinean a sidelong glance. “I thought you said they would kill any who went after the relics?”

Phinean’s mouth dropped open as it suddenly dawned on him. “Wait here!” Phinean instructed. The short gnome then bounded down the stairs after Elroa, shouting out his name and begging him to wait.

Jaleal shook his head. “Not the most organized fellow I have ever met, especially for a gnome.” The warrior gnome went back to his spot at the table and sat to finish the rest of his meal. The company was strange, but at least he was back on dry land and the food was good.

Talon moved along the deck of the boat and watched as the she-elf sat near the bow.

“The wind is steady,” she said. “We should arrive by tomorrow.”

Talon nodded. He stared out against the endless blue before them and then turned to admire the rocky coastline to their left. “There is no place to dock the boat before Tuport?” he asked.

The she-elf crossed her right leg over her left knee and looked up at him with her sky-blue eyes. “You haven’t even asked me my name,” she said. “We have sailed for five days and we have hardly spoken more than a few words to each other at all.”

Talon smirked and shrugged. “I’m not a chatty person.”

“Elorien,” she said. “That’s my name.”

Talon turned away from her and looked more intently at the coastline. “Is there no place along here that we could bring the boat in?” he asked.

Elorien rose to her feet and moved toward him with a determined gait. “Can’t you say my name?” she asked.

Talon turned a cold eye on her. “I don’t wish to know your name,” he said bluntly.

Elorien narrowed her eyes on his and folded her arms. “I married when I was two hundred and four years old. I have been married for one hundred and forty years.”

Talon eyed her up and down and then snarked, “My condolences.”

“You are not entirely human are you?” Elorien pressed as she stepped in closer. She reached up with her left hand, reaching out for Talon’s right ear. His hand shot up lightning fast and snatched her by the wrist.

“What are you playing at?” he barked. “I am not here to make friends.”

“Give me your name, and I will tell you the answer to your question,” she said pointedly as one of her golden brows arched up playfully.

“No,” Talon said.

“What are you running from?” Elorien asked.

Talon shoved her hand away and took a step back. “What does it matter?” His hand went down to rest on the hilt of his sword.

“She knows something,”
the sword whispered into his mind.
“There is another place to dock the vessel.”

Talon pulled his hand away from the sword and folded his arms across his chest. “I give you my name, and then you will tell me where we can dock that is closer than Tuport?”

Elorien nodded.

Talon nodded and looked out to the coastline before speaking. “I am Jim Brighton. I come from the mainland.”

Elorien laughed. “Really? Is that the best you can come up with?” Elorien shook her head and wagged a finger. “A true name for a true port to dock in,” she demanded. “It makes no never mind to me whether we sail for six days or seven.”

“Why does my name matter?” Talon indicated down to his weapon. “I ran your lover through less than a week ago, or have you already forgotten about that?”

Elorien frowned and turned away. It was obvious that she had not forgotten. She rubbed her upper arms as a breeze picked up and gently blew her hair out behind her. Talon caught the faint scent of lavender on the wind. They stood there for a few moments, Talon watching the coast and Elorien staring out to the front of the ship. Neither of them spoke. The boat pitched to the left, not enough to knock them off balance, but enough that Elorien moved to go back and adjust the sails. “There is a small village nearby,” she said. “It is obvious that speed is important to you. I can dock us there if you like,
Jim Brighton
.”

Talon turned and watched her work the rigging and adjust the sails. He was almost tempted to tell her his name. Almost. He went back to the rear of the vessel and she looked at him. “What is the name of it?” Talon asked, referring to the village.

“Doesn’t have one,” Elorien said. “It is a small fishing village. There is a path that leads from it to Tantine, which is due south of the village. It is a day shorter to sail to the village than to Tuport. It will also save you a fair amount of travel on the island roads if you are headed further inland.”

“Why the change of heart?” Talon pressed.

Elorien shrugged. “Maybe I just want you off my boat.”

Talon smiled slyly and nodded. “If this is a trick…” Talon let his words trail off in the air.

Elorien shrugged and went back to working the rigging. “No ships can follow us in there, if that is what you are asking about,” she said. “The waterways are too narrow for anything much bigger than this boat to navigate. The village itself is peaceful. You won’t find any trouble there.”

Talon nodded and then went below into the cabin.

It was night when Elorien came below. Talon looked up to see her motioning for him to follow her onto the deck. As he emerged, he saw that they had turned into a narrow alcove, flanked by massive rocks and foreboding cliffs that stood high above them. His instincts kicked in. If there was a plan to ambush him, this would be the best location for it. Archers could fire from above and easily overtake the small vessel. His hand went down to the sword.

“Easy now,”
Drekk’hul whispered to him.
“The she-elf means you no harm here.”

Talon called out to the sword in his mind.
“How can you be certain?”

“You should relax,” Elorien called out before the sword could reply. “It is dark out. I can dock on the edge of the village and you can slip into the forest. No one will see you.”

“How do I know you won’t betray me?” Talon shot back.

Elorien shrugged. “You don’t,” she said flatly. “You can either choose to trust me, or you can do as you will.”

Talon was surprised to find that there was no feeling of bloodlust coursing through him. Only a few days before, the sword had practically been begging for him to slay her. Now it was pleading for mercy too. He was not sure what to make of it.

“I can sense them.”

Talon gripped the sword tight and called out to it with his mind.
“Who do you sense?”

“The Tomni’Tai, dark elves. This village is full of them.”

Talon turned to Elorien. “This village has dark elves in it?”

Elorien bristled and shook her head. “I don’t much care for that term,” she said. “This is the home of the last remaining Tomni’Tai.”

Talon looked at the she elf and realized that though her skin was fair, it had been darker than other elves he had seen. “You are from here,” he said.

Elorien nodded. “I have not been here since my betrothal.”

“You were married to a Svetli’Tai, why?” Talon asked.

Elorien gave a half-smile. “Because I was fair-skinned and would fetch a good dowry. I was the fairest elf in the village. Not good enough for a noble, but pretty enough for a greedy merchant.”

Talon nodded and turned to her. “I will not harm anyone in this village,” he said.

Elorien smirked. “Had you been planning on it?”

Talon shrugged. “Depends on how things play out. I like to keep my options open.”

The she-elf smiled wide then. “We aren’t so different, you and I. We both are seeking to make our own way in a world that is against us. I bet in another life we could have been friends.”

“I doubt that,” Talon said. “I am not that fond of elves.”

“Then you must be tormented to know that elf blood runs in your veins,” Elorien replied pointedly. “Who was it, your mother?”

Talon frowned and turned away from her.

“Or was it your father?” Elorien pressed. “One of them was an elf, I can see it in your features.”

Talon shook his head. He turned back to her. “My name is Talon,” he said. “I trust you will keep that to yourself. The last person who betrayed me ended up skewered on my sword.”

Elorien smiled softly and nodded. “Elorien and Talon, it has a nice ring to it. We could sail to the mainland together.”

Talon shook his head. “I go on alone.”

The two of them drifted off into silence. Elorien worked the vessel while Talon watched as they passed by the large rocks and through the narrow neck of water until they came into a large bay. Lanterns of red and yellow hung from piers and buildings. The single masts of smaller fishing vessels stabbed up into the night, but no one stirred. The ships were docked for the night, and it appeared as though no one was out and about.

Elorien pulled the boat up into the shallow waters until the bow abruptly pressed into the sand, grinding and jerking to a halt. Talon looked back to her with a nod and then leapt over the side into the shallow water. He turned and pushed the vessel back out into the water. The assassin then turned to the forest and made haste for the shore without so much as a wave to the she-elf.

He moved through the forest effortlessly. The moon was full, bathing the forest in a silvery light that aided his progress. He stalked through the shadows and around the large trees. He soon found the path that led to Tantine, but he didn’t travel by it. On the off chance that Elorien would betray him, he went through the forest away from the path. Besides that, the tower he sought was further inland than Tantine.

By midnight, Talon found a large, hollowed out oak. There was no sign of any animal, so he used the shell as shelter for the night, sleeping until the golden rays of morning broke through the green canopy of leaves above him.

Birds and squirrels were already busy gathering food in the early light of the morning. Talon’s stomach rumbled, but he pushed the thought of food out of his mind. He was sure the forest would provide him with sustenance along the way. It was best to push on. With any luck, he would be at the tower in a day or two, depending on how long it took him to navigate the forest.

As he pressed on through the vegetation, he passed a large raspberry bush. There were only a dozen or so berries left on the plant for him to pick, but he ate them quickly and continued on. He saw deer deeper in the woods, but he let them alone. He had not brought a bow, and it would be nearly impossible to down a deer with a sword. It would be better for him to forage berry bushes along the way until he found the tower.

It was noon by the time he reached the road.

Talon crouched behind a mossy, fallen log and scanned the road before venturing out from the cover of the trees. He checked not only the road, but the forest itself for any sign of highwaymen or other dangers. After he was satisfied that the road was clear, he left the log and moved out onto the road. With the ground level and free of obstructions, he was able to increase his pace greatly. He followed the road in a westerly direction, growing more excited with each step that brought him closer to the next relic he needed.

After the space of two hours, he heard shouting coming from further up the road.

Talon ducked into the trees and moved along them stealthily. He could hear angry men hollering back and forth at one another.

“Curses, Amdur!” someone shouted. “If you hadn’t been driving recklessly, we wouldn’t have broken the wheel!”

“I told you not to call me that!” another man shouted back. “That is the whole reason to have new names, so no one knows who we are!”

Talon was intrigued by their bickering. He carefully scanned the trees around him as he crept closer and closer to the arguing pair. Soon he saw a small, uncovered wagon loaded with a few crates and bags. A single horse stamped its feet impatiently, pawing at the road. Two men stood near a wooden wheel. Two of the wooden spokes had snapped, and the felloes was cracked so badly that the flat steel tire was hanging off of it.

“I need a drink,” the taller man said in disgust. “You want one Amdur?”

The shorter man poked the other one in the back. “Stop calling me that!”

Talon watched as the taller man pulled a small crate down from the back of the wagon and handed it to the shorter man he had identified as Amdur.

“Here, hold this.” The taller man opened the crate and pulled a small bottle containing an amber colored liquid out. He also pulled out a length of smoked sausage. At the sight of the meat, Talon’s stomach growled again.

“Break me off a piece too,” the shorter man said. “If your lordship would be so kind, Governor Kimmel.”

The taller man took a drink from the bottle and then placed it back into the crate. “Ah, so it’s alright for you to use my name, but I can’t use yours?”

Amdur shook his head. “You don’t seem to care either way, so what difference does it make?”

Governor Kimmel swept his hands out as he tore a piece of sausage off and chewed it. Through the mouthful of food he shouted at Amdur, “Look at this! I used to live in a governor’s mansion. I wore silks and had fine food whenever I wanted. Now I am in the middle of an elf forest, subsisting on smoked sausage and liquor!”

“You forget who put you in the governor’s mansion,” Amdur replied sourly as he dropped the crate. Talon sniggered as the wooden crate broke apart and several glass bottles shattered, spilling their liquid onto the road.

“Now you have done it!” Kimmel said. “You can’t help breaking things can you?”

“If you hate it so much, then why don’t you go back to Blundfish?” Amdur asked.

“Where are the men you said would meet us?” Kimmel snapped. “I want to know where your men are. You said you had everything arranged!”