Chapter 12

NOW

I felt my skin prickle.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up on end, goosebumps crawling across my back and arms.

I was being watched.

I ignored it for a moment, willing myself to focus on the words in front of me.

It didn't let up.

I glanced up briefly with a scowl from the tomb, confirming my suspicion — red hair, a flash of blue — and then back down straight away with a frown.

Valen leant a hip and his elbows against the large black altar that had gained my attention, considering me openly from over his left shoulder. His great hulking shadow darkened the book's pages.

Larger shadows danced all around us — created by the towering metal braziers that encircled the altar, and cast by the two giant dragon statues that loomed on both sides of us. Nathyrra sat cross-legged against the far door, sharpening her short sword with a whetstone.

She'd waved the altar off as unimportant, but I'd insisted that it could help us in some way. I just couldn't tell her what I hoped to gain.

She'd been loath to help me with my 'time wasting'.

I did all I could to ignore Valen's intense gaze, continuing my investigation of the heavy book we'd found on the altar's surface.

It was brittle, bound by leather and lightly splattered in places with blood. A stained dagger, more ceremonial than practical, had sat on the altar beside it.

So far it wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know.

Thar be dragons, and all that.

I knew this altar had something to do with the black pearl I'd found in an adjoining room. I just couldn't remember what.

I heard Valen humm in consideration, and I rolled my eyes back up to take him in.

His eyebrows were drawn down in thought, his expression betraying the uncertainty behind his fierce eyes.

"Something on your mind, Valen?" I pressed cautiously, after a moment of deliberation.

A beat, and then; "The Seer," he said simply.

Ah.

I took a deep breath, looking back down at the page for any mention of the pearl. I flicked to the next one.

I was wondering if he would bring this up...

"You still think I will betray her?" I asked the pages in front of me.

I saw him shift in my peripheral, scratching uncomfortably at his chin as he considered his approach. "I am unsure how much knowledge you have of the planes, Emma." I was pulled momentarily out of my search through the tomb at Emma's name.

I bit down on my lip, hard.

Gulping, I looked back down, flicking to the next page.

Not sure I could form the words, I simply nodded for him to continue.

"I suspect it is little, in which case the Blood Wars mean nothing to you," I jolted when he placed a splayed hand across the page I'd been reading; hiding it from sight. "Is that correct?" I looked up at his raised brow.

I straightened, facing him and pushing all thoughts of the book aside.

"I know what the Blood Wars are," I met his challenge with a set jaw and squared shoulders.

He blinked a few times as he considered this, before continuing. "I was…" he paused, searching for the right word. "I was recruited into those battles." He looked away, his eyes taking on a haunted cast.

Despite myself, my heart immediately went out to him, already knowing where this was going.

I hugged my arms around my torso, putting more space between us.

His eyes suddenly darted to where Nathyrra attended to her weapons. She wasn't paying us any attention, but that didn't mean she wasn't listening.

He lowered his voice. "For years I fought in the Outer Planes as something less than a soldier." He paused. "I was a beast."

I let the words settle between us, worrying my lip. "I'm sorry," was all I could offer him.

It was one thing to know it. But it was another thing entirely to hear it.

It suddenly felt wrong that I already knew all that I did about him.

The questions I knew I should ask died on my lips. It felt like a charade to ask for information I already knew.

I'm an imposter.

He nodded and attempted a wan smile of appreciation. "Thank you. It is… something I try not to think about. At the time, however, it was all I knew." He nodded to his armour and flail. "The Blood Wars made me into the warrior I am." He shrugged. "Though it meant nothing to me."

He shifted again, observing me closely for a reaction.

"My infernal masters encouraged the demonic blood that was within me. I was beholden to it… I reveled in it, and I was desperate to please my masters with each opponent I slaughtered." His voice picked up in tenor as he continued, his back straightening and his face hardening. "There was nothing in me that was human, and that meant less than nothing to me." He slashed a hand before him. When he spoke next his voice was gentle once more. "Until the Seer found me."

He watched me for questions, his gaze unwavering and firm — where before it had been unsure and full of pain.

He seemed surprised by my silence, but not overly put out. He continued with a curt nod.

"The first time I saw her; I had been summoned, along with my masters, to your world by a spell…" he smiled, but there was no humour in it. "To fight the Seer, no less."

I found myself unable to compare this man I had shared food with, who I had jested with, who I had fought with, to one of the mindless planar beings I'd seen wizard's summon before.

A frown pulled at my brow.

"During the battle, we came face to face. She looked into my soul. I have no other way to describe it." He shook off a sudden memory, continuing: "We were banished back to the planes, but the memory of the Seer stayed with me. It haunted my dreams." Valen closed his eyes, suddenly shuddering. "For the first time in decades, I began to remember the life I once had."

A beat of silence, and then I found myself saying: "That wouldn't have been easy," I offered.

I tried my best to keep the sympathy out of my tone, lest he perceive it as pity.

'Or empathy,' I could practically hear Enserric's non-existent eyes roll.

I ignored the sword's pointed comment, doing my best to not let my mind run away with that train of thought.

Valen's voice was flat, none the wiser to the sword's observation. "It wasn't." He paused, closing his eyes and gathering his thoughts before opening them again. "My master sensed my…" he waved a hand in front of himself, searching for the word. "He sensed my difficulty."

I bit my lip, eyes uncomfortably roaming around the room; to and from Valen's intense blue stare.

"I was tortured, for months or years… I really could not tell you," his emotion was gone, back to matter-of-fact don't-you-dare-betray-us Valen. "I only remember it was agony beyond measure," he shrugged casually. "Demons know how to torture."

"I bet," Was all the response I could think up.

I bit my lip again in frustration.

Come on, Jane! You have a whole wealth of game knowledge to draw from — You know how this conversation goes. 'I bet'? I did my best not to openly scoff. That's the best you can say?

I could hear Enserric's answering chuckle at my frustration.

Valen, seemingly unaware of my frustrated line of thought, continued his tale; "Eventually, I was able to escape Grimash't." Then, despite himself, his eyes took on a haunted look and I felt myself swallow at the memory of what his escape truly cost him. It passed just as quickly as it came. "I made my way to your world, an alien place for a planar. I searched high and low until I found the Seer."

I chuckled, despite myself. "More low, than high, I take it?"

His answering smile was genuine. He nodded, "She healed my wounds and… spoke to me. She offered to help me. If I wanted it," he swallowed down the sudden well of emotion that almost choked his final words. "She saved me. In every way that one can be saved."

I fought the temptation to ask just what kind of relationship he truly had with the Seer. Background knowledge of him be damned, he spoke with the intense awe of a man in love.

I swallowed the question; it wasn't my business.

He watched me with a slight tilt to his head, his eyes narrowed as I considered all he'd said.

Eventually, I offered; "I can see why the Seer is so important to you."

He gave a curt nod, satisfied with my answer. But what he said next held a ring of warning once more; "So you see why I would never betray her… or allow her to be betrayed."

I chewed at the inside of my cheek tensely, in reply to his warning growl. "Noted," I eventually responded, before really thinking.

He regarded me cooly, for just long enough for me to regret my answer, before looking back down at the book. He shifted his stance, putting some space between us now that the conversation was over.

This is stupid.

I slammed the book shut, taking a step forward.

I suddenly didn't know what to do with my hands. With a huff, I crossed them against my chest.

Valen raised an eyebrow.

"Valen, I'm not going to betray anyone," I insisted, suddenly realising how high and loud my voice sounded.

He grimaced, resting a hand against the altar between us.

I gritted my teeth, feeling all the world like a yo-yo. I knew where this conversation could lead.

If I was too distant he wouldn't respond to my call when I needed him in Cania.

If I was too friendly… I didn't let myself follow that thought.

I forced myself back into a subdued whisper, each word a sharp hiss. "I couldn't betray the Seer even if I wanted to." He blinked back at me, seemingly unsurprised by my sudden shift in temperament. "Geas remember?" I held my arms wide, willing him to see me, invisible geas and all.

He nodded, his expression understanding. "I do not mean to make accusations." He shrugged. "I simply thought you should know."

Then, he reached towards me, brushing against my arm as he grabbed the tomb in a hand, pulling it back towards him. I rubbed absently at my arm, hoping he didn't see me flinch.

"At any rate," he motioned to the pages of the book. "You say this can help us upgrade our weapons."

Conversation over, but not far from either of our minds, we poured over the contents of the book for the answer for the next ten or so minutes.

Eventually, with Nathyrra's begrudging help, we added a few drops of my blood to the surface of the black pearl with the ceremonial dagger — when was my last tetanus shot? Then, she offered some half-hearted arcane words over the altar, Enserric glowing a dull red from his spot beside the pearl.

A flash of red and the pearl lost its colour.

Upon Enserric's insistence that he felt like it had worked, we continued in our exploration of the temple; my thoughts never far from the fight that waited in the depths below our feet.

And dogged by the uncomfortable feeling that we weren't ready.

THEN

Drogan observed Deekin and me from over his half-moon spectacles. His earlier ill-health seemingly all but forgotten but for the slight flush to his cheeks.

We sat on the opposite side of the timber bench, Deekin on my left. I crossed my hands on the table-top, feeling all the world like I'd entered into the world's weirdest interview, completely unprepared.

The scaly kobold fidgeted beside me, shifting as he tried to scrunch his spindly legs up underneath himself, to better see over the table-top.

Dorna and Xanos had let me continue on with the little kobold alone, choosing to stop off at the Cauldron on the way through Hilltop earlier in the day. They'd been covered in grime and Dorna had a nasty cut on her arm, which was looking a lot better than it had, after our desperate fight with J'Nah — which was apparently all the more reason for a drink and warm meal.

"You should be in bed, you stubborn dwarf! "Ayala suddenly admonished from the kitchen's doorway, her eyes wide as she took us all in.

She rushed to his side, placing a hand on the dwarf's shoulder, cautiously looking the kobold beside me over.

Deekin was completely oblivious to her open alarm, offering a contented 'ahh' when he finally found a comfortable position.

"Enough, woman!" Drogan waved the elf off impatiently as she gaped at us. "I will not lay about like an invalid if I have the strength to make myself of use. Especially not while," he paused, adjusting his glasses, "Emma has so much to tell me."

I gulped.

Shaking her head with a sigh, and with a final glance between Deekin and myself, Ayala turned and made back to the kitchen. "Suit yourself, you stubborn dwarf," she threw over her shoulder. "Should you collapse I will not take responsibility for you."

And with that, she was gone, back to care for the wonderful smells that were just now reaching my cold nose.

"I'll take my chances," he called back gruffly to the empty doorway. Drogan looked back, rolling his eyes at me and harrumphing. "Better that than to be prodded by an over-concerned elf all day long." He leaned forward, splaying his arms across the table between us. "So you tell me that you," he observed the kobold cautiously, "and this Deekin, have found all of the artefacts?"

I placed my satchel carefully onto the table between us, sifting through my meagre belongings and placing them on the table between us, one by one.

"Yes!" The kobold excitedly perked up at his name, pulling his little shoulders back proudly. "Deekin helps. Deekin definitely not make harder." He nodded his long snout profusely, before settling back into the bench, looking immensely pleased with himself.

A smile curved my lips, despite myself as I placed the broken tower statue Deekin has given me, within Drogan's easy reach.

He reached for it with his wide hands — one hand on his spectacles and the other turning the statue this way and that, as he observed the damage with a frown. He glanced at me briefly before picking at the damaged seam in the small stone statue, leafing at the edge something hard that poked out from within.

"You broke it?" Drogan asked without looking up.

I rolled my eyes to the suddenly silent kobold at my side. "He did," I jutted a thumb at Deekin. "But it's fortunate that he did. It's not a statue — It's a container."

He gave a gruff huff of agreement, pulling it closer to his face. "And inside… a crystal," he pulled it away from his face with surprise, glancing up at me to observe my reaction. "A crystal giving off far more power than we detected previously. The statue itself must have been shielding the crystal from detection. How interesting."

"I think J'Nah was seeking the crystal for herself — but for what," I shrugged, "I'm not sure…" I let my sentence drift off, shifting with sudden discomfort.

Was this bench always so hard?

"A true mystery then," Drogan's eyes snapped up to meet mine with a sudden intensity. He placed the tower between us carefully, his gaze never leaving my own. "How fortunate we have you to shed some light."

I frowned, blinking at the calm, steady look on Drogan's face.

I swallowed slowly. "Pardon?" Surely I misunderstood.

Drogan leaned back, the embodiment of calm. "It's about time you told us who you were, Emma."

Her name had always sounded like an accusation, but this time it wasn't just in my head.

He held his arms wide, willing me to explain.

I guess I should be thankful Dorna and Xanos aren't here.

I gulped, managing a meek; "Why now?"

He gave a flat, toothless smile from amongst the bush of his beard, his fingers curled around each other in a relaxed fist on the benchtop between us.

"Whoever sent J'Nah to retrieve the crystal will no doubt try again," he jutted his chin towards the broken statue. "I need to know what we're up against."

His voice was calm, friendly even. But his eyes were cold and hard.

There was no pulling the wool over his eyes this time.

I worried at my lip, suddenly realising that I'd probably never truly succeeding in fooling the dwarf.

And so I explained everything to him, with little Deekin by my side nodding along as if this was all part of the job. Drogan, to his credit, gave away no surprise, offering no interjections.

I told him about my word, bereft of magic. And the game I played, long ago, set in the town of Hilltop and the world beyond.

I told him how I had fallen asleep in my world, and woken in his.

I told him about Emma finding me — poor, well-meaning Emma — a retelling of the tale I'd spun him months ago now, of how she'd tried to save us from the demonic creature, only to die protecting us.

And I told him who J'Nah was working for.

What was to happen out in the Anauroch desert.

The floating Nethesese city.

Everything.

Even his death holding the portal open for mine and Deekin's escape.

To his credit, Drogan didn't even flinch.

The story told, I waited for his response, leg tapping rapidly beneath the table.

He considered me over his lenses, a hand tugging gently at his beard. "The Anauroch desert, you say?" He finally hummed.

My leg froze.

I nodded quickly, breathing deeply through my nose.

"Looks like we're going to see my old friend," his smile was bereft of humour. "Garrick Halassar."

Ayala watched us silently from the kitchen doorway, her face giving nothing away to her inner thoughts as she considered Drogan and I.

Finally, she sighed, a look of pure defeat on her alien features. "I guess I'll be making up more of that poultice for your travels, then?"

And with an exaggerated tutt, she disappeared back into the kitchen.

NOTEBOOK EXTRACT

The following few pages are in Jane's messy handwriting, outlining her travel with Drogan, Ayala, Deekin, Dorna and Xanos to locate Garrick. She begins by expressing surprise at the company of both of The Harper's, but the rest is bereft of commentary, and simply a quick recounting of her travels.

Day 1 - Packed and prepared

Day 2 - Spoke to Katriana about travelling with her caravan

Day 3 - Training

Day 4 - Training

Day 5 - Travel, through the Nether Mountains

Day 6 - Continued travel, crossed the River Rauvin. Daschnaya told my fortune with cards - way off!

Day 7 - Stopped at Sundabar for a resupply

Day 8 - Explored the city (high dwarven population), stole holy water for fighting undead from local church, met one of Drogan's associates

Day 9 - Helped load and prepare the caravans

Day 10 - Travel

Day 11 - Travel, caught a deer

Day 12 - Travel, Torias and Xanos will make bets about just about anything…

Day 13 - Travel, proof-read Deekin's first draft of his novel.

Day 14 - Travel. Torias has a decent collection of wine…

DAy 15 - Travel. Bet Torias that we'd be attacked by stingers whilst travelling together.

Day 16 - Travel, weather's (finally) getting warmer!

It goes along this vein for quite some time.

Day 46 - Travel, holy shit it's fucking hot!

Day 47 - Attacked by stingers. (Won a bottle of red from Torias.) Thanks to the added firepower from Drogan and Ayala, nobody was hurt or taken.

Day 48 - Travel, overheard Katriana discussing our water reserves (have hidden a canister of water for emergencies beneath a loose board)

Day 49 - Travel

Day 50 - Stopped, too low on water to continue. Have offered to trade on behalf of the caravan with the bedine for water, (apparently they had a disagreement in the past).

Day 51 - Travelling with Xanos, Dorna and Deekin

Day 52 - As expected, the Oasis was dry and a large number of them had been turned into Walking Dead. Spoke to local Ali who provided some guidance. Cleared the catacombs and found Desert's Fury, an enchanted scimitar which burns the undead bastards at a touch.

Day 53 - Zombies. Are. Disgusting! Killed undead priest, found the Rod of Blight.

Day 54 - Convinced Ali to help us fight Kel-Garas. Returned the rod to the House of the Morninglord. Oasis restored!

Day 55 - Travel with Xanos, Dorna, Deekin and a whole lot of water.

Day 56 - Travel

Day 57 - Travel, proofread the new chapters in Deekin's book (redacted a section about "Boss-Lady be weird like that, because she be from different world".)

Day 58 - Travel

Day 59 - Travel, Ayala has a lovely singing voice (even when accompanied by Deekin on the lute).

Day 60 - Travel

Day 61 - Ao encampment

A separate map of the camp and the excavated ruins, too good to have been made by Jane, is wedged into the journal's spine.