Chapter 8: Majestic Magical, Musical Mayhem
Jeremiah pulled books out at random. He had wandered far away from Elisha, into part of the library where the shelves were grey with dust and he had to be careful to not breath in too sharply. He had wound up with too many coughing fits after he'd banged down a book in frustration. The dust was becoming ever more of a nuisance. With all his high minded words surely the young upstart could spare a few moments to clean a stupid shelf. Self righteous idiots, they were all the same, so stuffed full of high ideals that they couldn't even bring themselves to pick up a duster and wipe a book. He turned his head, frowning at the shadows. For a second he that thought he'd head a knocking. For a second he had worried it was Elisha come to check on what he was up to, that or one of his freaks but then he realized it had been too quick for a big creature's steps. He turned back to the shelf he'd been studying. After all, what right did this Master Smith have to ask him his business? There were many ways of skinning a cat after all, he could discover a spell or two that he could claim were for dealing with that silly thing in the lake and they would be but afterwards.... Well there was always room in afterwards.
His head snapped round as the knocking sounded again. It was not only too fast for footsteps it was also not getting any louder, not approaching. If it was that red splotched chest weasel again it would find itself splotched with a much more... vital form of red than it had ever had nightmares about. His eyes caught movement. The first syllables were forming on his tongue before he saw that it was a book, a book bouncing up and down between its fellows, knocking on the shelf. Jeremiah narrowed his eyes. It could be another weaseling little trick but...
"Go up there and get me that bouncing book," he instructed Hat, his moth. The bug opened its wings and buzzed up into the air, trailing ribbons of faint blue glow. Its soft legs gripped on to the cover of the book, finding spots of purchase. With a clatter of wing beats Hat slowly eased the tome off the shelf, staggering in the air under its weight, wobbling back to its master drunkenly through the air. Jeremiah held out his hands and Hat dropped the volume into his waiting fingers. Jeremiah studied the cover. After a moment he looked up at the still hovering Hat.
"You, there," he stated, jabbing a finger at the point of his miter. Hat clattered down and was still. Free of the distraction Jeremiah narrowed his eyes at the book in his hands. The cover had been embossed with a stylized image of a dragon, though the gold leaf that had originally adorned it had long since worn away, and Jeremiah's hands shook as he saw that the image on this book matched the one that already sat in his pocket. A cruel and vicious smile spread across Jeremiah's features and the leather under his fingers warmed under his touch. His smile spread even wider as he realized the leather wasn't made from cow hide. Better and better. Slipping it in to his other pocket he started following his footsteps in the dust back to the main area of the library, realizing as he did so that it was dark outside the windows.
After a night spent in decent beds, the companions met downstairs in the indoor dining room the following morning. Kaelin sniffed appreciatively at the smell of hot breakfast and then sniffed again. There was a smell she had never smelt before, hot, some how nutty but not quite, slightly bitter at the edge but somehow attractive. She peered into the the dining to see Elisha sitting at the head of the table.
"Good morning," he smiled at her over his mug, "My thanks to you Lady Kaelin."
"I'm ain't no lady," Kaelin frowned, "And what are you thanking me for?"
"Your suggestion about what Felicity could give me in exchange for my irritation," Elisha took a sip from his mug, "I have not enjoyed coffee since I left my home all those years ago. It seems our little pest can create food."
"Glad to help," Kaelin muttered as she walked over to the serving sideboard. She wasn't sold on the coffee.
After they had eaten, Elisha pushed his plate back and steepled his fingers.
"I believe I have identified the creature that is causing the shipping issues in the lake," he stated.
"Well that's good," Thorian interrupted.
"Indeed," Elisha nodded, "And I also believe that I have discovered some ways of making it more vulnerable." He stood, went over to a side table near the fire place and brought some books back to the main table. He flipped open one and turned it so that they could all see the picture. "I believe that what it is this - a subterranean Kraken from the seas of the Underworld. How and why it has come to the surface, we can only speculate about, but it would explain its hyper-aggression to any large mass that crosses the lake - it is confused, most likely in pain and distressed by the loss of its usual habitat."
"Poor thing," Thorian mumbled, "It's not fun when you are drive out of your home."
"Indeed," Elisha gave Thorian a look of shared understanding, "As to how we can discourage it for attacking the ships, I believe that I have discovered at least two solutions." The first diagram he showed them looked like half a barrel with a lamp inside it mounted on a very peculiar stand. The second looked like a cloth octopus that had experienced a very unfortunate accident with a job lot of recorders. "It comes from a world of darkness, that being the reasoning for its coloring and therefore it is vulnerable to the light. The light burns it, hurts it, hence why the storms begin just before it attacks. How this effect is happening I am not sure as subterranean Kraken are not noted as being able to control storms. However, it might be an instinctive ability long dormant in its bloodline due to lack of need but now that it has emerged back to the surface its ancestors left so long ago it could have rediscovered the power in its blood."
"So you are saying the Krakens of the Underworld sea are descended from surface ocean Krakens?" Jeremiah asked.
"Indeed, if what I have been able to trace in the library is correct then that is true," Elisha nodded, "The Krakens of the Underworld sea are descended from Krakens either washed, hunted or taken into the Underworld by either accident or design."
"Considering the love of pain the... people of the Underworld enjoy then that last wouldn't surprise me," Jeremiah tugged at his beard.
"I thought you were helping Elisha in the library," Kaelin smirked, "If you were paying attention yesterday surely you would have already known about this stuff. Or where you too distracted to be a proper help at all?"
"For your information, I have found some spells that will not only help us with the little problem in the lake, they will also help us beyond that I am sure," Jeremiah spoke but refused to turn his head in Kaelin's direction, "Please Master Smith continue."
"As I was saying, light hurts it and from what I have read so do certain frequencies of sound," Elisha nodded, "Hence this second device. I believe that it would be best for your team if both methods were available and I also believe that both of the physical components are available in the tower."
"You sure?" Thorian asked.
"Not totally," Elisha admitted, "But my predecessor was an avid collector of many things and I have found mention of these devices in the more... stable part of his journal. That leads me to believe that they are within these walls. As to where they are, again I am not sure. I have been... Duke, I believe is the title, of this land for nearly seven years and I still have not discovered everything hidden in this place."
"Well then," Jeremiah heaved himself to his feet, "As I presume you will be searching with your old friend Hartseer, then it is up to us to decide how we will search. I suggest two teams and I'll go with Thorian, he needs the extra help to keep focused on the task."
"Yeah and you need to extra help so you don't actually have to do any of the heavy lifting," Kaelin said as she stood but Jeremiah ignored her grandly.
"It's alright, Kaelin," Thorian said as he stood, "I know I'm not that bright, I'm just happy that I can be of some use."
Kaelin's face screwed up as she was going to say something about door mats and Jeremiah and being taken advantage of all in one sentence but then she looked at Hat and her teeth stayed wielded together.
"Shall we sally forth my good woman," Ulrich suggested, gallantly gesturing Kaelin to go first. After a moment of trying to bore holes through Jeremiah's head with her eyes, she turned and moved towards the door.
"Shall we try to find this most intriguing looking instrument?" Ulrich asked as they left the room. Kaelin pouted about it for a moment and then nodded.
"Yes," she agreed, "And I think I might have some idea of where to look and if that fails, then I think I might know someone who could help us out." Ulrich raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything as Kaelin lead him upstairs in one direction.
"I, on the other side, have much more direct ways of finding something," Jeremiah said, almost to himself as he flexed his fingers and limbered up his hands.
"Oh, oh is this going to have something to do with your pets?" Thorian asked, stepping back.
"More my friend on the other side," Jeremiah smiled, conscious about the weight of the books in his pockets, then he held his hands out, palms facing each other and began to speak. Hat flew up off his miter and buzzed off through the house, leaving a glowing blue trail through the air.
Thorian sniffed and nodded slowly.
"Well that's not something you see every day of the week," he observed.
"A mere trifle," Jeremiah smiled, dusting his hands off, "Shall we?" But despite asking he headed up the stair case first.
Kaelin and Ulrich soon found themselves in a tower outgrowth that was crammed with just about everything musical.. buried under a mountain of dust.
"Oh this is going to be fun," Ulrich observed, coughing through a throat full of dust as the pile he disturbed collapsed and sent sheets of dust billowing up into the air, "Shall future generations still sing the sagas of the epic dust bunny slaughter?"
"I hope not," Kaelin managed to semi climb, semi crawl over a pile of stuff to open a window and let some of the dust out, "I had my run ins with dust bunnies yesterday thanks to that chest weasel." Her eyes watered at the remembered pain being wedged up her nostril.
"Well let's see if we can add a more musical note," Ulrich noted as he rooted through the heap. Kaelin narrowed her eyes at the back of his head. Something about his tone suggested... Kaelin's mouth thinned. Well she wasn't about to stand idly by and let herself be the target for a prank. She grinned as a thought crossed her mind and she started exploring the rooms, not looking at the heaps of stuff but rather at the walls.
Hat's glowing blue trail lead Jeremiah and Thorian up a trio of stair cases that wound their way through several growths of the tower, curving back and forth on themselves until they came to a room that was stacked high with boxes and chests and lots and lots of dust. Heaps of it, mounds of it, dust fell through the air like feathers and drifted in corners.
"You would think he could spare amount to pick up a duster," Jeremiah's lip twisted as he lifted the hem of his robe out of the dust.
"He probably will once the town is all clean," Thorian yanked a ladder out of the pile of cobwebs that swathed it and shook the eight legged creepy crawlies off it.
"What do you mean by that?" Jeremiah pressed a cuff to his nose, trying not to breath too deeply.
"The town," Thorian lent his ladder on a pile of boxes and climb up to haul down the top most container, causing an avalanche of dust. Jeremiah jumped back with an oath not fit for public consumption.
"They're still trying to fill up after the last wizard emptied it out," Thorian didn't notice Jeremiah's distaste, "So the damn soul who's the cleaner is trying to keep the houses clean so people want to more in. I wonder if he's mind if I came here after we're done being the King's Special? It could be cool living somewhere where I'm not the weird looking one. I could even see about cleaning out some of the tower. It could be fun. Cyril can't be the only one who can talk, it would be cool to hear some stories."
"Cyril?" Jeremiah asked, his hands giving up on the quest to brush off his robes.
"Yeah, Cyril," Thorian grinned, "Ulrich didn't like calling the talking one Crowface all the time, said it felt dis-rest-pect-full but Crowface couldn't remember what his name was the first time he was alive so Ulrich suggested Cyril. He liked it." He wrenched the lid off the wooden box and discovered that it contained a bunch of statues packed in straw. "Well that's not what we were looking for."
He straightened and started climbing the ladder again. Jeremiah picked out one of the statues. It was only about ten inches high and the base could sit comfortably in the palm of his hand. Made of some black smooth stone, its form was difficult to understand at first. Jeremiah turned and turned it in his hands, trying to make sense of its lines as Thorian pulled the lid off of box after box. Then Jeremiah saw what it was. The upper half of a human skeleton draped in a robe of some matted, tattered substance that seemed to wrath through the air round it, its skull a snarling death's head. Then it moved.
Jeremiah stepped back but his hands wouldn't unclench from round the base of the statue as the stone flowed and the jaws of the thing distended wide, a hellish glow rising in its gullet. A voice just below the level of hearing whispered behind his back.
Then it was just a stone statue in his hands, strange and disturbing in its subject but nothing completely out of the ordinary. Jeremiah shoved it back into the box and clapped the lid back on, leaning all his weight on it. For a second, just a second, he thought he heard stony nails scratching on the underside of the lid but then Thorian was slamming another box down beside him and the spell was broken.
"You alright?" Thorian asked, frowning.
"Yes," Jeremiah straightened, dusting off his hands, "We need to be careful with some of this stuff. It might not be totally lifeless."
Thorian scratched his head for a moment, his horny nails making a rasping sound over his scalp, then he rolled his eyes with a sigh.
"Just nothing easy on this trip, is it?"
"Well if it was easy would we be a King's Special?" Jeremiah smiled, trying to ignore the feeling of the crate behind him, the feeling that a small but highly venomous thing was watching him with dribbling fangs.
"Yeah, I guess so," Thorian shrugged and turned back to the mountains of boxes.
In their part of the tower, Kaelin had found what she had been looking for.
"Hello," she said quietly as she walked up to the portrait.
"Oh hello," Charlotte glanced at her and then looked away, a sulky expression on her face. If they had but known it the family resemblance between them was more pronounced than ever as Charlotte's sulk matched Kaelin's usual sullen expression. "Still believe that I'm that uncouth chest weasel?"
"I'm not entirely convinced," Kaelin admitted, "But I'm not sure exactly how you could convince me otherwise."
"Oh well that's just so reassuring," Charlotte sniffed, "You aren't sure that I'm not that ill mannered little beast but you can't come up with a way I can convince you. It's no wonder you seem to be lacking in the friends account if this is how you usually treat them."
Seeing that Kaelin had learnt long ago that having friends was a brilliant way to be hurt, she wasn't at all disturbed by this comment, just folding her arms and waiting while Charlotte fiddled with a bunch of flowers.
"So why are you go through all this stuff any way?" Charlotte asked eventually as the noises of Ulrich's unsuccessful attempts to find what he was looking for echoed up in clouds of dust.
"Why do you want to know?" Kaelin replied.
"I'm bored," Charlotte admitted, "The scenery is all very nice this side of the canvas but there isn't a lot to do here. We don't have to wash or eat or train up to be some lord's wife when we are of age. Most of the time there is nothing and no one to look at going on so you are at least a distraction, even when you are being more rude than any peasant I've ever met."
"Charmed I'm sure," Kaelin muttered.
"So what are you doing here?" Charlotte asked again, "Nobodies come looking in on this area in ages. The new wizard and his pets haven't had a lot of time to sort through the storage things, they are usually trying to keep the town ready for people to move in or trying to make the land better, though what they mean by that I'm sure I have no idea, the Deep Forest was always the nicest area round here, its why the wizards wanted to set up the tower here, it meant that they didn't have to do a lot of work to get food."
"The Deep Forest?" Kaelin raised an eyebrow, "Is that where you think you are?"
"Of course it is where we are," Charlotte sniffed with scorn, "The wizard's never moved their tower as far as I know so we must still be where Daddy let them set it up."
"Well I hate to break it to you but it has been called the Dead Swamp for about eighty years now," Kaelin folded her arms, "Looks like the last owner of this tower wasn't the only one who mistreated the area. That is why Elisha has that Coral Dragon working with him, where ever she walks she makes things grow."
"A Coral Dragon?" Charlotte's mouth went to flap open and she shut it with a slick, "Well I never. A Coral Dragon. That is well really..." She sat in silence for a minute or two and then shook herself, "So, for the third time, what are you doing here?"
"We are looking for something that looks like a cloth octopus as had a very painful run in with a pile of recorders," Kaelin decided to give in, "I don't suppose you have any idea where it is?"
"Of course I do," Charlotte sniffed, "If I tell you will that convince you that I am not a chest weasel?"
"It might," Kaelin admitted slowly.
"Oh please," Charlotte rolled her eyes, her smooth brows furrowing into a v with her annoyance, "The fact that I'm offering you the information without asking for something in return should convince, that little boorish snitch of fur doesn't do anything for free, not a present or anything."
"Alright," Kaelin gave in, "I'm convinced you are not a chest weasel and I'm sorry that I ever did think that."
"Alright I forgive you," Charlotte stood up in her frame and brushed down her skirt, "Oh and if you ever have the chance to discover what happened to my cousin I would be most grateful. That is not payment, bare in mind, I don't need it done but I would appreciate it. Not payment mind you but I would be grateful." She gathered her skirts.
"You miss your cousin?" Kaelin asked quietly, glancing at Ulrich to make sure that he had his head in a box of stuff.
"Not particularly," Charlotte admitted, "He was a cruel boy, used to like stitching bugs on pins but it would do my heart good to know that the estate was back in family hands and not open for anyone to carve up how they like."
Glancing at Ulrich again, Kaelin softly followed Charlotte as the girl moved from painting to painting, deeper into the tower.
Ulrich rooted through the box until he met the bottom and then straightened with a groan.
"I don't know about you but this is doing my back in," he observed, turning to look at Kaelin and finding that Kaelin wasn't there to be looked at. Frowning Ulrich looked around and spotted, though an open door what looked to be a portal of purple light swirling as if someone had just stepped though it. Frowning Ulrich paced towards it, staring hard. As he approached he picked up a fair sized box. Not taking his eyes off it he hurled the box towards the portal.
The box bounced off the mirror and caromed into his stomach, knocking him off his feet and then burst. Pots, pans and skillets clattered down on him, one kettle bouncing off his forehead with a clang very well done.
With a sigh of the long put upon Ulrich climbed to his feet and straightened his clothes, glaring at the portal, the real portal, not the one in the mirror. The portal rippled at him. Bending down, Ulrich seized the handle of the kettle and drew his arm back. For a second, a second he held it and then very carefully set the kettle down on the floor before straightening and turning away. There was a noise behind him like a large drain coming unblocked and the noise of a kettle lid rolling and rattling into place. He looks back to see the kettle lid finish settling into place. The portal rippled. Stiffly Ulrich sniffed and turned away.
"Kaelin?" he called and then wished he hadn't as it made him choke on dust. He rolled his eyes fine time for the girl to disappear, just how was he supposed to make her jump if she didn't hang about in the search?
Thorian slammed another box down on the floor and yanked off the lid. His forehead was streaked with grey, there were cobwebs draped over both ears and his hands had turned from green to black.
"My dear Thorian," Jeremiah smiled his friendliest smile, "If you keep stopping like this it is going to take us far too long to find what we are looking for."
Thorian straightened and put both of his fists in the small of his back.
"Any chance your Hat could point us to the right thing?" he asked, "This is doing my back in."
"My dear Thorian," Jeremiah oozed concern, "Surely you're not telling me that you are not as strong as we all thought you were. I mean, that would be such a let down to the team, if our big strong orc wasn't as strong as you made us all believe you were. We..."
"Hey!" Thorian turned, for once something like anger in his eyes, "I'm an orc crossbreed, not an orc. Yeah I might be big and strong and dumb but it was people like you who made my people so if I'm not as strong as you would like go talk to them, seeing as between you and Ill-eye-sha you should be able to. And I took a battering to save your aft from those spiders yesterday. Where were you when the meat met the metal? Where were you when I was going up against that house sized bug? No where, that's where! No where that counted. Now I don't know what you have against Hartseer but he was the one keeping that thing's pincers out of mah neck, not hiding under a bed! If you want to find these things faster, help! If you don't want to find these things faster, don't help, just get off of mah back about it."
With a finally snort he turned away, studying the piles of boxes and crates to decide which one would be next.
Jeremiah's mouth thinned but as Thorian started walking toward the next pile he held out his hands and spoke, the words causing the blue glow that leaked from Hat to flare to new brilliance. The moth clattered up into the air and buzzed away through the towering stacks of storage, its blue glow ribboning through the air.
"Thanks," Thorian yelled, dashing after Hat. Jeremiah followed at a more sedate pace, keeping his hands held apart, concentrating on the spell. He stepped between two towering piles to find Hat clinging to the bottom most box in a pile that went all the way up to the ceiling, clattering his wings against the wood, his antenna fluttering until they disappeared as a blur of blue.
"It just had to be the bottom one," Thorian said, his shoulders drooping, "It just had to be, couldn't be the top on, oh no, it had to be the bottom one. Oh well, since you've done your part, I best do mine." He sighed and then started moving crates around to make a stair case up to the top of the stack.
Kaelin grinned as her hands uncovered the strangest looking instrument she had ever seen. Its soft body was a floppy bag made a dark red material with a crosshatching of wide dark green bands along with thin yellow and white stripes, once she'd patted the dust off of it. The picture hadn't really done justice to the trio of records that were tide together with tasseled cord, plus the wide ended recorder and the recorder that seemed to have lost both its end and its holes. It took her several minutes of fiddling to work out what was supposed to go where but her grin became even wider as she settled the baggy instrument into place. Once she was sure what she was supposed to do with it, she crept back the way she had come.
Ulrich still had his head in a box as she came up behind him. Kaelin slipped the mouth reed between her lips, puffed several times until she felt the bag strain against her arm and then she blew with all her might.
The most unearthly noise burst forth from the instrument. A cacophony of cat yowls, dog barks, the lowing and mooing of cows. Kaelin could have sworn she'd even heard a clatter of chickens clucking. It sounded as if she had an entire farmyard compressed below her arm and Ulrich... Ulrich paid it no mind what so ever, no even twitching his ear in her direction.
Kaelin dropped the reed, glared at the baggy thing below her arm, tucked the reed back into her mouth and taking an extra deep breath, blew again.
Ulrich heard her that time.
He leapt about four feet into the air and came down spinning. He'd launched himself at her before Kaelin could react. They went down as a tumbling, rolling heap of thrashing limbs and cussing, that also included some rather flatulent toots and frumps as they crashed across the floor, long and spiky records jabbing both of them every chance said recorders got. Finally, Kaelin managed to get the leverage she needed to kick Ulrich off with a roar.
"It's me, you great umpty!" she yelled.
"Well what did you expect?" Ulrich clambered to his feet, dusting himself down, "Creeping up on a chap like that with that unearthly row maker?"
Parrrrrrrrp!
Said row maker put in its two pence of the deal.
"Yes I am talking about you!" Ulrich snapped.
Purrrrrrrp!
Kaelin stared at the bag under her arm as it spoke with out her squeezing it.
"Yes well you call that music? I've heard better," Ulrich said, aggrieved.
Purp, parp, puh-puh-puh tooooooot!
"Well I have," Ulrich exclaimed, "And as to why I'm talking to a bag of wind..."
Parp, parp, parple, parp!
"Don't be mean," Kaelin stroked her new toy/pet/weapon (Ulrich couldn't be sure), "I like him, besides you can't tell me that you weren't planning to do exactly the same thing to me, so there."
"Oh alright," Ulrich rolled his eyes, "Let's take the darn thing downstairs and...."
"You mean I take it down stairs," Kaelin grinned as she turned to the stairs, "Finders keepers and all that. And oh, Ulrich?" She turned back at the top of the stairs.
"Yes?" he said sourly.
"You have a bruise, just there," she tapped herself on the forehead to show where she meant and then continued down the stairs.
Ulrich draw himself up and then kicked one of the stacks of boxes, which promptly collapsed on his foot. A half formed yell broke from him and then he bit his lip to bite the sound off. Tears welling in his eyes, he yanked his injured foot out from under the box trapping it and hopped on the other. Gritting his teeth he started limping forward and something clattered as the toe of his boot nudged it. Frowning he picked it up.
It was a slim pipe made of metal all the way down its length and a tag dangled from it. Ulrich wiped and wiped the label until he could read the words 'for dogs' in faded letters. Ulrich glanced down the stairs and tucked it under his belt. Turning back he rooted through the rest of the spilled contents of the box. A curved trumpet that lacked any values was marked 'for dragons' and his eye fell on a fiddle that had no label at all but for some reason it held his attention. He picked it up and plucked at the strings. It seemed to still be in tune so he raised the bow and began to play. The sound was sweet and high, the bow ran smoothly over the strings and he soon found himself coaxing a jaunty dancing tune out of the wooden body of the instrument. As he turned in time with the music, he spotted the reflection of the portal. It was looking wane and feeble, almost sickly. In surprise he lifted the bow from the strings.
After a few moments the portal began to shine more brightly, its color and spin recovering. Pursing his mouth Ulrich started playing again. After about four or five bars the portal began to fade again, slowing its spin and its color drained away. Lifting the bow from the strings again, Ulrich watched the color come back and the spin speed up. He smiled and turned to find the case for the instrument. There had definitely been compensation for the days discomforts.
Thorian lifted the last box off of the stack he had been dismantling and sighed. With weary hands he pulled the lid off of the crate at the bottom. There nestled in clean straw were the lamps they were looking for, their white lacquered metal shiny in their rest.
"Well," Jeremiah stepped forward, "It took long enough but I must say you found them. They are interesting devices. Well come along, let's get them back to the others."
Thorian watched Jeremiah turn and walk away from him with Hat coming to settle down on the peak of his miter, then he sighed and picked up the crate with the lamps in.
Following Jeremiah he swayed down the first set of steps, he staggered on the second and on the third he completely lost his balance. Tumbling head over heels, he bowled passed Jeremiah who just managed to keep his footing as the unfortunate orc crossbreed crashed to the floor at the bottom of the steps.
"Oh dear Thorian," Jeremiah shook his head as he came down the last few steps, "You really are most awfully clumsy. Here let me help you." Jeremiah lent down and gave Thorian a hand up but then his fingers felt the green skin of Thorian's forearm, testing its texture and strength.
"Here," Thorian pulled away, "What are you doing?"
"You really do have amazing skin my friend," Jeremiah smiled, "An absolutely amazing hide, does it run in your family?"
"Yeah," Thorian's eyes narrowed, unsure what Jeremiah was getting at, "I guess so, that and you know, lots of fresh air and exercise, does wonders for you."
"Yes, it really does," Jeremiah smiled even more broadly as he slipped his hand into his pocket and caressed the cover of his new book. Now he knew what hide had been used to bind it and he wondered if the brainless booby had any relations that had disappeared in the past. It would be so pleasing to know that he was carrying his revenge on the lump around in his pocket and all he had to do was show it to the animal to get him to rage and be branded a monster. That would be one less to deal with and he could always work it so that Hartseer would do the putting down. That would be really good but that was for later, one should never mix business and pleasure. He turned to the scattered lamps.
"Oh dear, Thorian, you really have made a mess, haven't you?"
"Would it have hurt you to help me carry some?" Thorian muttered, rubbing his arm to get rid of the feeling of Jeremiah's fingers. The dude was becoming creepier every day and that ruddy moth was staring at him in such a strange way, as if it was weighing up how it was going to see him die. It was just plain weird.
"Well this one is not going to be working any time soon," Jeremiah turned the first one over, its lens clattering free, "Neither is this one." The second lay apart from its stand.
"This one's good, I think," Thorian picked up the third revealing that it was dented but OK. He put it back in the box, "This one..." he picked it up and the lamp fell out. Thankfully it was not far from the floor when it did so, which meant it only rolled instead of smashing. "Oh bother." He put the pieces in the box any way.
"And this one is also not going to be much use," Jeremiah turned over the mangled case, "This one however, this one is perfect." He lifted it up and reverently placed it back in the straw, "Still only two out of six really isn't a good record, my friend."
"If you'd just give a hand carrying them," Thorian muttered, putting the last of the broken pieces into the box.
"Now Thorian you know that wasn't the deal," Jeremiah smiled, "I found them, you were supposed to carry them safely back down stairs but seeing as you struggle with that, I guess I had better do all the work." He stepped back and started speaking, the words curdling the air and a deep, angry hum vibrating inside the building. Thorian looked round, hand going to his sword, as something told him the shadows were moving in ways they should not do.
Then dust and words and shadows hardened into seven creaking skeletons that wordlessly lifted the crate between then at Jeremiah's instructions and bore it off to the dining room.
Ulrich jumped up from the chair by the fire as the skeletons marched in with their load between them. Kaelin dropped the bagpipes at her feet with a sad sounding parp, her hands jumping to her sword, the bones of her face rippling in ways that bones are not meant to.
The skeletons lifted and slid the crate on to the table and stepped back, revealing the smiling Jeremiah.
"There," he beamed, "And not a single innocence hurt so that metal insect can hardly complain. You may go." He waved a hand at the skeletons and they crumbled back into dust. "And what have you managed to find, my friends."
"Well, among other things," Kaelin picked up her booty, "Haggis here."
"Haggis?" Ulrich exclaimed, "You've named it?"
"Of course," Kaelin stroked the tartan cloth, "If you are going to be working with someone, it is an idea to know their name. There is such a thing as good manners."
Ulrich closed his eyes and shook his head. Opening his eyes, he turned to Thorian.
"I found this and I think you should have it," he held out the trumpet that had no values, "If nothing else I think you are the only one likely to have the puff needed to blow it."
"What is it?" Thorian asked, taking it and turning it over while he frowned.
"A bugle," Elisha noted as he walked into the room, "A simple enough instrument but armies have been directed by them in the past."
"By this?" Thorian held it up, plainly not believing him, "Just how would you drive an army with this?"
"By the different sounds it can make, some sounds say rally to me or swing left or hold the center. May I?" Elisha held out a hand. Still puzzled Thorian handed it over but Elisha only looked at the label before handing it back, "I believe that thought that was not the instrument you were searching for, it will do you some good. Allow me also to make this a gift to you Thorian Vandervast."
"Why are you both being so nice?" Thorian seemed more than confused, now he seemed upset.
"Well I can't keep all the good stuff to myself," Ulrich shrugged, "Can't carry it for one thing so I might as well share it around."
"And I for one feel that you have not received many gifts in the past," Elisha smiled, "Please allow me to help to correct this. All men should receive a gift. After all such things can change the cause of the world." Elisha's smile broadened as if he saw a private joke in this or maybe a fond memory.
"You are all so nice," Thorian yelled and caught them both in a rib cracking hug.
"Ah," Ulrich cry out, "Yes, love you too, Thorian, ouch. Um Thorian? Um, could you, argh, put us down before you break something. Ow!"
"Oh, sorry," Thorian put them down gentle. Ulrich staggered back, gasping for breath, eyes wide with shock. Elisha also seemed taken aback by Thorian's enthusiastic gratitude, hanging on to the arm that had just nearly crashed him to keep himself from falling.
"You have strong arms my friend," his breath whistled, "I am surprised you have not visited the tribes of the Gronland. With such strength as that you would be a champion in their sport."
"Gronland? Where's that?" Thorian asked with a frown.
"It is an island across the sea to the north west of us," Elisha explained, "I was sent there by accident long ago. The people there practice a sport where you do not hit or kick your opponent, instead you grab him and try to throw him around like a rag doll. I think you would find that your strength would make you quite welcome there."
Thorian thought about it.
"What sort of weather do they have there?" he asked.
"When I was there in the depths of winter, they do not see the sun for over a month and the snow whirls across the frozen surface of the sea and the cold feels as if it is a knife come to cut you to the bone," Elisha was brutally honest about it but much to his surprise Thorian grinned.
"That sounds like mah home country," he exclaimed, "I think I might like to visit there at least. It would be fun to visit some where like home."
"Then may the Great Good guide your steps there," Elisha inclined his head and then turned to the table to have a look at the lanterns Jeremiah and Thorian had found.
"Oh dear," he said as he lifted the broken pieces of one out of the box, "I did not expect them to be in such a state of disrepair."
"Well if someone had carried them with more care," Jeremiah muttered.
"Well if someone had helped with carrying them," Thorian muttered back but Elisha didn't pay any attention to the mud slinging competition going on around him, concentrating on the state of the lanterns, picking up pieces and trying to fit them back together.
While the others were occupied, Ulrich sat back down in the fire side chair to nurse his sore ribs and pulled out the only instrument he hadn't tried yet. He looked at the label again - 'for dogs'. Slyly he looked at Kaelin where she was stood watching Elisha's careful work. After a moment he grinned, wiped the reed and put it in his mouth. The distorted note that squealed from the whistle caused the others to swing round in time to see Ulrich emerging from what looked like an explosion in a flour mill. Coughing and spluttering, Ulrich waved a hand in front of his face, trying to disperse the cloud of dust but it was too late. Seeing Kaelin's doubled up form, Ulrich looked down at himself and sighed. Patting his clothes only raised dust in quantities that would have been useful in as a smoke signal. Jeremiah looked at the ceiling and rocked on his toes. Thorian was not so reserved, rolling on the floor and howling with laughter until the tears rolled down his face.
"And after I gave you a present," Ulrich muttered but Thorian couldn't hear him through the sound of his own laughter. Ulrich settled himself back and raised the pipe to his lips again.
This time the tune was sweet and melodic but Kaelin reacted like a banshee had just screamed in through the window, clapping her hands to her ears and shrieking like a soul in torment. Her face bones cracked and rippled, the human peeling back to reveal the wolf underneath. As her hands fell from her ears the nails stretched and rounded into claws. Her eyes, burning pools of tawny fire, fixed on Ulrich and the sound that rumbled from her throat was felt more than heard. It was the only warning that he had. Ulrich threw himself out of the chair and Kaelin launched herself at him in a flat drive that had claws and teeth leading. The chair crashed backwards and Kaelin tumbled across the floor, the human returning as the last notes faded out of the air. She lay there gasping.
Elisha was the first to speak.
"It seems that the King's Special this time has move talents than most," he noted, "I had been told of those who carried a wolf within them but I did not believe that they could change during the day."
"Goes to show what you know," Kaelin spat as she brush hair out of her face, "Some of us never had a choice about what we are, some of us were born with the curse in our veins, thanks to a monster of a grandfather and father. Some of us have to fight it every day we are alive and that, Ulrich, was a damn low blow. Yes I sneaked up on you in the attic but I didn't try and drag your brain out through your ears!"
"I have to admit I didn't expect it to make such a reaction in you," Ulrich said after a moment, "It didn't seem to cause the others such pain."
"Maybe the others didn't hear this!" Kaelin lunged out, her claws reforming and then dragged them back across the marble floor. The sound of a thousand iron nails down a hundred chalk boards grated through the air, counter pointed by a hundred forks scratching over glazed plates.
Thorian shuddered as his tusks vibrated to the noise. Even Jeremiah and Ulrich winced.
"Alright," Ulrich inclined his head to her, "I apologize for that trick and I'll try to give you some warning in future that I'm about to pull that stunt."
"Alright," Kaelin muttered, back to being as sullen as ever but she did allow Ulrich to help her to her feet.
"Well seeing as I've shown off my lack of musical talent," he grinned self deprecatingly, "How about you give us a tune." He handed Haggis to her with a smile and after a moment Kaelin took him/it. She stroked the cloth, tucked it under her arm and blew into the mouth pipe. The building whine started and then Kaelin let rip. The sound brought the hairs up on the arms but with the power of the song. It seemed made for vast open landscapes, to echo off the sides of distant mountains and swirl through the air in time to the rattling of throbbing drums and marching feet.
"Wow!" Thorian said as the last notes faded away.
"He really is yours," Elisha inclined his head to Kaelin.
"What do you mean?" Kaelin frowned as she let the mouth pipe drop.
"Many magical instruments need their player to attune to them for the best of the instrument to be played," he explained, "If I am any judge you just attuned to Haggis here. Now he will only perform his best for you until such time that you become tired of each other."
"Really?" Kaelin looked down at the bagpipe under her arm and stroked the material again. Still smiling Elisha turned back to the collection of piece on the table.
"I think that I maybe able to make some repairs on this," he observed, "Our blacksmith also had some training as a silver smith when he was a child so he might be able to aid us in repairing them physically. As for the magic that should have infused them I believe one of my damned souls may be able to aid us in that task. Yes," he turned one piece over, noting the marks on the back of the devices, "Edur may very well be able to help with this task. I will..."
A shrieking wailing filled the air. Kaelin cried out, wanting to clap her hands to her ears but not wanting to down Haggis at the same time. The ululating scream seemed to get inside her bones and snarl there and only a dead man could have ignored it.
Elisha was already running for the door. Thorian followed without a word and Kaelin and Ulrich followed him after exchanging a glance.
"Shouldn't we think about this?" Jeremiah called but a disgusted look from Kaelin was the only reply he got. He shrugged and turned towards a chair but then realized that the book in his pocket was growing uncomfortably hot. He turned to the door and it cooled slightly. With a sigh of long suffering he waddled after the rest, muttering about unreasonable working conditions and demanding books.
Outside it was easy to see where the trouble was. On the edge between the woods and the fields Crowface/Cyril was swooping and diving, shrieking battle cries with his wing man as four of the ground based damned souls fought on the ground. The things that faced them were large, scaly and black, huge fangs snarling and snapping. Ulrich whistled and his lizard came bounding from some where in the garden. With a whoop and a swing he was up on its back.
As they ran towards the fight something tall, lanky and white bounded over a hedge and fell into step with them.
"Who asked you to join in tin man?" Jeremiah shouted, "We don't need you."
"Really?" Hartseer actually did sneer for the first time they'd ever known, "Ever faced drakes, flesh man?"
Kaelin saw the damned souls raining blows down on the hides of the wingless dragons but none of them broke through. Then one of the drakes caught the leg of a damned soul. The animal looking face screamed with a shockingly human sound and then the drake's maw closed about its torso and shredded it to pieces, gulping down the greater portion. Elisha cried out but Thorian roared, bounding forward. The drake just had time to look up as Thorian leapt, bellowing his battle cry. The drake's maw opened, a fire glow building in its gullet... Then Thorian crashed into it, the point of his sword smashing through its eye socket in an explosion of goo.
"There!" Thorian yelled to Ulrich, "First to me! And you can't argue this time!"
"Only if we live," Ulrich yelled as his lizard piled into the next drake, snapping its jaws over the drake's mouth, holding its teeth shut before the fire could reach its mouth.
"Try the horn!" Kaelin yelled as she passed Thorian, the last words she could manage before her jaw twisted beyond human speech.
"What?" he yelled as he yanked on his sword, trying to drag it out of the beast's head. Then it dawned on him. "Oh, oh yeah!"
As Kaelin gorged her claws over the scales of the drake before her to no avail, she felt the note of the bugle shiver through her bones. For the drakes the affect was much more. They recoiled, hissing like steaming kettles, flame wasted on the grass before them, confusion in their bestial eyes. Crowface/Cyril pressed the attack, screaming the attack as the damned souls crowded in and battering the drakes but claw and fang and fist just bounced off the scaly hides.
Ulrich's lizard reared on to its back legs, jaws still clamped over the maw of the drake it held, fore claw ripping bloodlessly over the drake's chest even as Ulrich battered its head with his swords, unable to find an opening as the drake clamped its eyes shut.
"Their bloody eyelids are armored!" he shouted in frustration.
"But this isn't!" Hartseer came up on the drake's flank and as it lifted its arm to claw at the lizard wrestling it he drove a double sword into the drake's arm pit where the scales were small. The skin at the base on the other side of the drake's neck deformed as the points of Hartseer's swords pressed up from the inside of it and blood jetted from between its fangs. Ulrich's lizard staggered as the drake collapsed, Hartseer riding the motion as it rolled sideways away from him so he could set his feet on its hide and pull his sword up and out. He gave Ulrich a nod before turning to face the next drake as Kaelin struggled to keep its claws off herself.
Jeremiah finally arrived, panting and wobbling. He stood gasping for a moment before drawing himself up and beginning to chant. Elisha jerked his head up to look at the vortex of darkness forming above the battle field and only just ducked the blow aimed at his head in the next second. The damn souls continued to rake and punch and bite the drakes but barely made a mark on the thick oily scales.
Then the vortex contracted and burst groundward just as Thorian came back into the fight, giving the impression of a fountain in reverse. The last two drakes screamed in terror, lurching back and crashing into each other. The effect on the damned souls was electrifying. The part that would gave Kaelin nightmares later was the fact they went totally silent as they blurred, blows raining so thick and fast that even when hide didn't split the bones below cracked, the only punctuation their grunts of effort. One drake went down, gasping its last as broken ribs punctured its heart. A second later Elisha thrust his dagger in and red lightning burst from ground to sky for an instant. The drake's mangled body rippled, things inside cracking as bones reknit and shifted, flesh reforming and mutating. It straightened on to its back feet as its tail disappeared and its hips alerted. Scales sank into its skin and then fur erupted from every pore, marching across now flattened belly and a chest where new muscle rippled. Its arms bulged, triceps and biceps like bowling balls in a set of socks. Finally bright scarlet hair exploded from its head and neck, falling in a thick mane round its ears as it threw back lion jaws and roared its new life to the sky, towering over its maker.
"Now you don't see that every day," Ulrich was grinning as he charged the last drake. It turned to face him, fear, confusion and pain in its eyes and it opened its mouth, fire building in its gullet. Thorian reached it first.
Kaelin and the other damned souls jumped back. Thorian's eyes where glowing scarlet! His sword sheered through the air with the sound of tearing silk. The drake's body swayed as its head bounced and rolled across the ground to the feet of Ulrich's lizard, then it slumped side ways, a red flood staining the grass. Thorian stood bent over, the point of his sword buried in the turf, gasping for breath as the glow faded from his eyes.
"No one cooks mah friends," he stated as he straightened.
"And for that I'm truly grateful," Ulrich inclined his head.
"Yeah that was truly something," Kaelin nodded, "Not bad on the horn either. It kept them busy so they didn't fry us all."
"Truly you are a warrior born," Elisha said, stepping forward, "If others of your people need a place to live then tell them my land is open to them. Others may see nothing but the savage but I know loyalty when I see it and loyalty is the most perfect love."
"I, for one, was proud to have any of your people in my army all those years ago," Hartseer said as his swords folded/flicked back out of existence.
Jeremiah rolled his eyes and turned away from this display of mush. Sentimental nonsense, though knowing that the tin man had an affection for orc crossbreeds could be useful. He turned to the drake that Hartseer had killed and grinned. He mentally tugged on his power source and fold it was running low. He grinned more and snapped a line. In the distance a dog howled its last and rolled over, dead for the second time. Jeremiah began to chant and blue lined shadows writhed over the ground. After a moment the drake staggered to its feet, its unearthly eyes and a wound in its arm pit the only sign that it wasn't what it appeared to be. Jeremiah patted its head and then frowned as he felt the book in his pocket warm for a moment. He pulled it out. There didn't seem to be anything different with it but the cover did seem a little... brighter. He shrugged and tucked it back into his pocket as he turned. Hartseer was glaring at him.
"I must thank you, tin man," Jeremiah beamed, "I must say you make a cleaner kill than many. I don't think that we will have any problems with people noticing that this one is dead. Or was this one of your precious innocents?"
Hartseer's knuckles ground.
"Must be so irritating, not having teeth you can grind," Jeremiah beamed even more.
"It was not an innocent," Hartseer made him self straighten, "But I will remember this, Lich! And Great Sess to you!" He turned away, stamping back towards the tower. The others watched him go. Kaelin looked at the still beaming Jeremiah and quietly shook her head. Some people really didn't have the brains they claimed to have.
