Tin Thoughts (The Downfall Saga Book 2) Page 19

  A snowball flew towards Finian and he burned it out of the air with a jet of flame. A ball of fire left his hand and headed for the wall of the fort. It seemed to flare up, before spreading out, and dissipating before it hit the wall of snow.

  An unseen force tried to yank Finian’s vest overtop of his head, while a large pile of snow floated towards him. He freed his head just in time to be buried by the falling pile of snow.

  “Finian is out,” panted Ravyn, between bouts of laughter.

  Even Caddaric had to laugh as he watched Finian burrow his way out of the mound of snow, his eyebrows now frosted with snow.

  Caddaric tried to rush up the slope to flank their professors, but the snow slowed his pace to a crawl.

  Brighid went down from a hit to the shoulder.

  Kort ignored the plan and hung back lobbing shots at the walls.

  Donovan had to duck and weave away from an onslaught and wasn’t making any progress.

  Kort bent down to reload and got hit on the back of his head. He let out a high pitched shriek and started wiggling around, trying to dislodge the snow which had fallen down the back of his shirt.

  Donovan was doubled over in laughter as he watched Kort doing his dance. Two snowballs flew through the air and struck him in the butt at the same time.

  Caddaric wouldn’t let their sacrifices be in vain. He had made his way up to the same height as the fort and was burrowing his way through the snow towards their flank. He popped up beside the fort, ready to strike from in close. He leaned over the wall with his arm cocked, and saw Professor Jairdan crouched against the wall, waving at him with a grin on her face.

  “Where’s Osm—”

  A handful of snow was rubbed onto his face from behind, muffling the rest of his question.

  “Never lose sight of your enemy,” said Osmont.

  Caddaric turned towards the sound of his voice, face still covered in snow, and heard Osmont burst out laughing.

  Chapter 22

  Donovan was relieved when the winter break ended and classes resumed. Ravyn had been pushing them to meet more often as each day went by. The return of classes forced her to reduce the meetings to one hour every Tuesday and Thursday.

  He rarely talked to Kort outside of the meetings as he was spending most of his time studying and working on homework with Satine. Donovan was disappointed that he couldn’t spend more time with his friend, but was proud that Kort was taking a serious approach to his studies. It would be difficult missing several weeks of class for the Paragon Prize Tournament, but all of them had made arrangements with their professors so they could work ahead and cover all of the material for their classes before they left for the competition. They’d only have a few days to study before their exams when they returned, and Ravyn was already starting to panic.

  Everyone in his Artificer class had been given a steel cube and a drawing of a smaller cube that they had to transform it into. They were given a hammer, a set of chisels and a set of files to use to shrink their cube of metal. It was painstaking work that took him all of January and into February before he finally finished. He waited nervously in the Foundry as one of the older students meticulously inspected his cube, recording dozens of measurements before declaring that his work met specification.

  They were preparing for their journey in early February when Osmont asked them to meet him outside the Foundry. Donovan made his way along the now familiar path to the Foundry and found the rest of the team waiting for him, but Osmont wasn’t there yet.

  “Anyone know why we’re meeting here?” asked Donovan.

  “He said that we needed to collect our gear,” said Ravyn.

  “But why are we down here?” asked Finian.

  Ravyn shrugged and they waited patiently for Osmont.

  The door to the Foundry opened. A burst of heat escaped from the room as Osmont walked into the tunnel. He gave the group a nod before starting down the tunnel. He stopped in front of a steel door and withdrew a ring of keys from his pocket.

  “We’ll be heading out in a few days,” said Osmont. “I’ll pack most of our supplies, but make a list of anything special that you think you’ll need.”

  “I’ll collect everyone’s ideas and give them to you,” offered Ravyn.

  “This is the armory,” said Osmont. “You have access to whatever you need for the competition. The only rule is that you must sign out everything that you take.”

  He unlocked the door and heaved on it. It slowly opened inwards.

  Donovan waited as the rest of the team entered the armory. He listened to their excited chatter before following them in.

  He found himself in a cathedral sized room packed with tables and racks, all fully laden. He had to squint as he walked between the rows of armor, the light reflecting off of the polished surfaces was blinding.

  “Go ahead and look around, kids,” said Osmont, clearing off a table near the door. “Bring everything you want and leave it on this table.”

  Donovan made a circuit of the room, surprised that Haven kept such an extensive armory, before returning to the door.

  “That was quick,” said Osmont.

  “I already have what I need,” said Donovan.

  “You may want some protection.”

  “I don’t plan on getting hurt.”

  “No one plans on getting hurt.”

  Kort came walking back down a narrow row between stands of armor, a great sword nearly as tall as him in his hands. He dropped it on the empty table with a metallic thud, and disappeared back into the armory.

  “Is everything here waiting for a buyer?” asked Donovan.

  “This is here for emergencies, and to loan out to our members.”

  “You could equip an army with what’s in this room.”

  Osmont shrugged his shoulders.

  Caddaric returned, arms empty, and leaned against the wall.

  “I’ll have my stuff sent up,” he said.

  “Fair enough,” said Osmont.

  “Can somebody help me?” called Kort from across the room.

  Donovan walked along the edge of the room. He had to crane his neck to see over a rack of unstrung bows, to find Kort near the back of the room. He hurried over and found Kort struggling to keep everything in his arms from falling to the floor.

  He grabbed a helmet from on top of the pile. It reminded him of a pot with a series of holes drilled into it for ventilation and two narrow eye slits. A red cross was painted across the center of the helmet around the eye slits. He slipped the helmet over his head and most of the world disappeared. He turned his head and tried to get used to looking through the narrow slits.

  “Are you sure you want this?” asked Donovan in a muffled voice. “It’s not very comfortable.”

  “Just help me carry everything over to the table.”

  Donovan loaded up his arms and the two of them navigated their way back to the door. He gratefully deposited his load onto the table.

  “You won’t be able to move in all that,” said Caddaric.

  Osmont quickly surveyed everything that Kort had grabbed. “You’re missing a few pieces.”

  “Just help me put it on,” said Kort.

  They spent the next five minutes dressing Kort in way too much metal. He was missing the pieces that protected his elbows, which Donovan didn’t know the name of.

  He handed Kort his sword and Kort spent several minutes clanking around outside of the room like a two year old learning to walk. When he returned and pulled off his helmet, he was red faced and sweating.

  “Help me get out of this before I pass out.”

  A hot and sweaty Kort laid down on the ground once they got the armor off of him.

  They left the armory an hour later, clad in leather, except for Finian who insisted upon wearing a chain shirt. Brighid carried a bow, Finian had a large sword strapped to his back, and the rest had settled on shorter swords.

  ***

  They travelled along the snow covered North Roa
d towards Kern, everyone bundled against the piercing wind coming out of the north. After spending many months at Haven, it was a shock to leave the sheltered valleys and head out into the snow covered world. Knee deep snow drifts covered the road ahead.

  Osmont led the way, breaking a path for the rest of them. Donovan followed close behind, staying far enough behind so Osmont’s grey cloak wouldn’t hit him in the face every time the wind blew. The rest of the team followed in a tight line behind them, Ravyn continued to quiz the team about their destination as they walked, but Donovan did his best to ignore her. Headmaster Marrok and Professor Nads walked at the back of the line, each leading a packhorse laden with their equipment.

  Donovan glanced back as they walked around a bend and was amazed by the Headmaster’s vigor. The Headmaster showed no signs of tiring and kept up with the much younger members of the group.

  Osmont kept up a steady pace as they travelled north into the wild. They paralleled the mountains to the east, and didn’t see any signs of civilization in the foothills to the west. Osmont allowed them to stop and rest twice during the day, each time leading them to a sheltered thicket of trees on a hillside. Each time Donovan felt useless as he watched the rest of the team moving and melting snow with their magic to clear an area for them to sit, while he was unable to provide any help.

  Osmont kept them moving even after the sun had set. The fields of snow glowed in the moonlight from the sliver of a moon in the clear sky, providing enough light for Osmont to keep them moving along the road.

  It was a couple of hours after sunset when Osmont asked Donovan to take the lead. He glanced back every few minutes and saw Osmont studying the mountains rising to their right.

  Donovan felt a hand grab his right shoulder. He stopped and looked back at Osmont.

  “We leave the road here,” said Osmont. “Follow the path up there.”

  Osmont pointed towards a route heading up the slope. The snow was slightly shallower, and Donovan guessed that it could have been an animal trail which had recently been covered by blowing snow.

  Too tired to argue, Donovan started fighting his way up the slope. His legs felt heavy from walking all day, and he couldn’t muster the energy to lift his legs high enough to posthole his way up the slope. Dragging his legs through the snow slowed his pace to a crawl, but the channels that he left in the snow made it easier for everyone to follow.

  “How far are we going?” asked Donovan, breathing heavy from exertion.

  “Not much more,” said Osmont.

  With a heavy sigh, he continued up the slope until they found a flatter area with a dark opening leading into the mountain.

  “How did you know this was here?” asked Donovan.

  Osmont tapped the side of his nose, before taking the lead and heading for the opening.

  The opening was tight, and they’d have to unload the horses before they could fit inside. After a few feet it opened up into an area large enough for them to make camp for the night.

  Osmont held out his hand, palm up, and a glowing ball of yellow light appeared above it. Osmont headed to inspect the rear of the cave while the rest of them started setting up their camp. Donovan and Kort began transporting their supplies into the cave. Professor Nads took two empty buckets from the horse’s backs and went to fill them with snow. He set the buckets on the ground near the horses and watched as the snow melted. Once the horse had drunk their fill, he filled two feedbags and strapped them to the horses before rubbing them down as they started cooling down.

  Donovan took a hatchet from their supplies. He and Finian headed out to collect firewood. By the time they returned, the bedrolls had been spread around the cave. They lit a small fire to heat their meal before turning in for the night.

  Donovan woke stiff and sore the next morning, unaccustomed to sleeping on the hard floor. He picked up his sword and carefully made his way past the sleeping mounds to escape the cave. Osmont was already outside in the midst of a Vanora.

  The snow had been cleared from a large patch of ground. The horses had been brought outside and were absently grazing on the dead grass on the cleared ground.

  Donovan moved to an open area where he stamped down the snow in a small circle. He took several slow breaths before falling into a Vanora of his own. Knowing that they had a long day of travel ahead of them, he kept his routine simple, keeping his sword close to his body in a series of defensive postures as he worked out the tightness in his muscles. The sun was still hidden behind the mountains when he headed back inside to see if everyone was awake.

  When they were ready to start travelling, Professor Nads led the horses back into the cave and they loaded their equipment onto their backs. When they were finished loading, Donovan headed towards the cave’s exit.

  “Not that way,” said Osmont from the back of the cave.

  They gathered around Osmont as he shone his light back and forth across the wall. As Donovan neared the back wall he noticed that a series of carvings covered a large section of the wall. Many small triangles fit together to form larger and larger triangles. Osmont finally found what he was looking for and he pressed one of the small triangles carved into the wall. A low rumbling sound started and a section of wall slowly swung inwards. Osmont waited for all of them to pass through with the horses before he did something to cause the wall to swing shut again.

  Many balls of light appeared in the air, temporarily blinding them.

  “Two at a time,” said Osmont. “Brighid and Kort can light our way first and we’ll alternate. Keep the lights near the ceiling and behind us so we can see where we’re going.”

  As his eyes adjusted, Donovan saw that they were in a broad tunnel which ran in the same general direction as the North Road. The floor was flat and Donovan thought that it slope slightly downwards.

  They followed the tunnel for several hours before Osmont let them stop for lunch. He showed them a marking on the tunnel wall which looked like a stylized arrow. Pressing this symbol caused the wall to swing outwards, leading to a small cave.

  They cleared another patch of snow outside, and tied up the horses so they could graze while they ate their meal. Osmont had them moving again while they were still chewing their last few bites of food.

  They spent the next five days underground, only seeing the sun when they stopped to water the horses, and let them graze. They traveled much faster without having to contend with the snow, but it was difficult to judge the distance they’d covered.

  Donovan was watching the walls for the symbol leading to the cave where they’d spend the night when he noticed a light up ahead. It grew from a pinprick until it filled the tunnel’s exit over the next hour as they travelled towards it. Stepping through the opening, they found themselves inside a giant cavern.

  A huge stalactite hung in the center of the cavern, its tip nearly touching the surface of a placid lake which covered nearly half of the floor. A gentle twilight filtered into the cavern from a series of shafts carved into the ceiling. Red light shone through small openings carved into the walls. Donovan craned his neck as he took them all in. It took him a minute to realize that he was staring into the windows of people homes, and he brought his gaze back to ground.

  “Wow,” said Kort. “Is this the capital?”

  “No,” said Caddaric. “Slate is above ground and much larger than this.”

  “This is a mining town called ... Laketown,” said Osmont with a chuckle.

  “Shouldn’t there be guards?” asked Finian.

  “How many small towns have you seen that question everyone when they enter?” asked Osmont. “Besides, few outsiders know about the tunnels which lead here.”

  “Is there a place where foreigners can stay?” asked Kort.

  “Do you think that every dwarf has a home here? Of course they have inns, but most aren’t designed to accommodate our needs,” said Osmont.

  Kort hung his head and turned away from Osmont.

  “Come on,” said Osmont. “There�
�s a place near the lake that can care for the horses.”

  They had to walk down several gently sloping ramps before they approached a group of squat stone buildings with flat roofs erected beside the lake. The red light spilling out of the round windows looked warm and inviting.

  Osmont led them to the largest building and asked them to wait outside while he secured their lodgings. He returned several minutes later with a second figure in tow.

  “Good evening. My name is Pax,” said Pax in a scratchy voice. “I’ll be taking care of your animals.”

  Pax had long, bushy hair and a shaggy beard. He walked with a limp and refused to look any of them in the eye.

  They unloaded the horses and let Pax lead them around the side of the building.

  They distributed their gear amongst themselves and headed into the building. They found themselves in a small common room which contained six empty tables and a cold fireplace against the wall. Osmont waved them towards a doorway leading to a short hallway lined by doors.

  “We’re the only people staying here, so pick whichever room you want,” said Osmont, “but be warned, there are no locks on any of the doors.”

  “Is there somewhere to wash up?” asked Ravyn.

  “There’s a small bathhouse out back, but you’ll have to pump and heat your own water.”

  “Care to join me, Brighid?” asked Ravyn.

  “No, I’m all right,” said Brighid.

  Donovan looked over at Kort, hoping that he’d take this opportunity to talk to Ravyn alone. The two of them rarely talked anymore, except when Ravyn was acting in her official capacity of co-captain, and she seemed to be taking extra delight in making him look foolish. Kort turned and headed into the closest room.

  “I’ll watch the door for you,” said Donovan.

  The two of them chose rooms across from each other at the end of the hall. The only furnishing was a small bed which ran the length of the room. Donovan dropped his belongings onto the bed and headed into the hall to wait for Ravyn.