Nikolao had caved to peer pressure. The collective groans of the group (save the stoic Tex’ana) had finally worn him down, as they implored him for rest now that they had the horses. After many arguments from the Cleftshire villagers, and the surveyors complaining even louder than they, Nikolao had finally agreed to let the group stop early for the night, and leave only after they were fully rested.

  The golden glow of the sun was just beginning to fade into the night sky when they stopped, although the trees of the forest before the open plains were already dark with shadows. After a quick meal, the group fell asleep, once again being watched over by Tex’ana.

  * * *

  Full rest (1)

  Health: 4/10

  Recovered from overexerted penalty

  Jarod woke up finally able to feel the strength of the power that had been granted the last time he’d spoken to the voice. The weariness that had suffused him yesterday was gone, though he still felt the pain of the combat they’d endured. He could move around fine, but stretch his arm too far or press on the wrong spot, and his cuts and bruises pierced through to the front of his attention again.

  Most of their group was suffering from similar aches and pains. Basma bandaged up a couple wounds on him and Filgrin, but without another one of those fabulous health potions he’d snagged in the mine, or even Filgrin’s recovery elixir, they’d have to wait for time to heal these wounds.

  Nikolao briefly consulted with Tex’ana about their path in the morning, and then they were back on the horses and riding towards Chath.

  The riding was easier now that they were out of the mountain roads, and they made good time on their horses. The trees grew less and less dense as the miles wore on, and the tall pines began to give way to oak and maple. Wildflowers were even more in bloom out of the cold mountain air, and yellow first-harvest ringberries grew on short bushes alongside the road. Jarod hopped off his horse when they slowed to a walk to quickly grab handfuls of the sour and sweet treats.

  It was pleasant riding, traveling onwards to Chath. Although they were only about halfway there, with about 50 miles to go, they should easily make it to the city the next day, barring any unforeseen hiccups. It was easy for Jarod to let his mind wander as they rode mile after mile on the clear day. Easy enough to forget the brigand’s ambush and their harrowing encounter in the mines until a rustle of something in the underbrush would bring his mind back to the present.

  Two of the foes they’d fought in the mines had managed to escape that underground lair, and now roamed who knew where. They could have ridden towards Chath ahead of the group, or perhaps wandered off to another of their hideouts in the forest to plot their revenge. Udi had made it clear in his interrogation that the whole affair was nothing more of a job to him, so perhaps he had moved on, run off to another city or another kingdom entirely. That magic user seemed another sort entirely though.

  Ionda had gone so far as to call them “contemptible fools”, even in the midst of trying to kill him, and had complained about disturbing his research. He seemed to have a flair for the dramatic as they’d fought him, but also seemed more likely to hold a grudge. Certainly he’d been the more dangerous one. It was fortunate that Nikolao had stuck Tex’ana in the mineshaft to lead the second wave of ambush that caught Ionda totally out of position. Even with the magic user’s sudden departure, his magic had given them a serious threat to deal with while the brigand’s leader still stood.

  With Ionda, there was also the question of what he’d been down there for in the first place. What was he researching down there, and why had he hired the brigands to protect him? Maybe he thought there was something dangerous down there. And then there was the question of the strange object he’d dropped — the stone doorway with runes all over it. Could Ionda see the runes as well? Jarod had noticed that the arcane torches that lined the walls had been carefully placed so as to avoid obscuring any of them. Had Ionda placed them, or did they predate his research there?

  That brought up the even bigger question of why Jarod could see those runes where Nikolao couldn’t. Perhaps it was tied to magical ability? Jarod had never tried his hand at magic, aside from using a few of the trinkets the Ludericks had made back in town. It could be that he had some innate arcane talent. More likely, he thought, was that it had something to do with the Voice and the mysterious System it described.

  Before he could follow that line of reasoning, a wagon came to view on the road up ahead. Jarod’s hand immediately went to the shortsword at his hip, but he held back from drawing it for now. Neither of the escapees they were on the lookout for was likely to have hired a wagon in the time they’d been gone.

  As it drew closer, Nikolao called out to the driver. “What ho, traveller? What brings you to these parts?”

  “Trade sir,” the man said. He was short and a bit on the pudgy side (good luck for a merchant) and he had a wide moustache that hung off the edges of his face. “My wife and I bring all manner of goods, bound for the border towns. I hear the way is clear now. Pray tell, if your travels take you down from the mountains, is there any snow on the roads ahead?”

  “No snow we saw as far as Cleftshire,” said Nikolao. “We had an encounter with some brigands a few miles back, but all save a pair have been dealt with. I expect you won’t run into any trouble with them, though I’d keep an eye out.”

  Nikolao drew closer to the rider to address him and his wife when she poked her head out of the wagon. “I’m afraid I have bad news about the path ahead though. There have been monsters sighted in Cleftshire, a whole horde of them. I’d turn back to the city if you don’t want trouble.”

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  “Monsters?” said the merchant, a little suspiciously. “You’ll forgive me sir, but there are rumors of all manner of creatures that roam this forest. All my time trading in these parts though, and I’ve never seen evidence of more than an overgrown moose. Unless you mean the sight servant there,” he added the last bit with a smile, trying to brighten the mood.

  “Take my words seriously, merchant. They’re not just rumors of the forest this time around. All of us have seen them. They attacked Cleftshire, and the whole village has evacuated to Blackpool Outlook.”

  “Evacuated? They’ve up and run off?”

  “Aye, the whole village has been abandoned by now.” Jarod spoke up to give his own account. “I’m from Cleftshire, and I saw the whole thing. Terrible little creatures, come out of the chasm, that razed and killed wherever they could. We’re on our way now to tell the king about it.”

  The mention of their plan with the king got a stern look back from Nikolao. “We’re bound for Chath to report to the relevant authorities,” he said. “Until you hear news to the contrary, stay out of Cleftshire, and stay off the roads if you can. There’s no telling when these creatures might be out and about again.”

  The merchant seemed to appreciate the severity of the situation, finally. “Understood, sir. Only, we’ve just packed all of our goods up. Seems a shame to turn around already. What about Blackpool Outlook and Eraford?”

  “I’m sure your business would be appreciated at Blackpool Outlook,” said Jarod. “They’ll have more mouths than usual to feed. I’d wait to hear news about Eraford at Blackpool Outlook, they might have chosen to evacuate as well. They’d be even worse off than Cleftshire if they have to defend against the monsters.”

  “Appreciate the news sir,” the merchant said. “Safe travels now. And good luck with meeting the king.”

  The others echoed their own farewells as the merchants pulled away towards the mountains. As the party was leaving, Nikolao pulled alongside Jarod to have a word with him.

  “You shouldn’t be mentioning any direct meeting with the king like that,” said Nikolao. “No doubt it was only ignorance that caused you to speak of it, but refrain from doing it again.”

  Jarod frowned in confusion. “Why? We are going to meet with the king, aren’t we?”

  The surveyor sighed heavily. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should let everyone who we come across know about it. It makes things simpler if you just keep it to yourself.”

  “What’s the harm in talking about it?”

  Nikolao looked like he really wasn’t in the mood to have the conversation with Jarod, but relented and gave more of an explanation. “Everyone has some problem they want to take up with the king. A farmer’s crops got burned, or a rancher’s cows died. You tell everyone you’re going to meet with the king, and pretty soon you have a list of 10 unrelated issues to bring up with him.”

  “Why shouldn’t we take advantage of the opportunity though? It’s not everyday you get a meeting with the king. At least for us, maybe it is for you.”

  Nikolao laughed at that. “No, it’s not everyday I get to meet with the king either. I’ve met him only once before, and I doubt he even remembers my face. But it’s not that, it’s about the propriety of the thing. He has enough going on, especially with potential war on the horizon, that he doesn’t need to hear about every minor inconvenience. He needs to have his time free to worry about important things, like dealing with a horde of trifleys.”

  Jarod could see some logic to that, but surely the king couldn’t be that busy.

  “Besides,” Nikolao continued. “It’s best not to speak in such certain or familiar terms about the king. He’s as much a part of the government of this kingdom as a mayor is, more so in many respects. Saying you’re meeting with the king is like saying you’re speaking with them personally, not as a ruler, but as a friend you might ask favors of. People might get the wrong idea. It would just give a bad impression”

  Jarod was perplexed by the answer. “I don’t know why anyone would care if you ask the king a favor. I don’t think it would give a bad impression at all.”

  Nikolao looked back to the road ahead, pondering Jarod’s response. The two of them rode along in silence together until the surveyor spoke again. “Perhaps it wouldn’t make a difference in your world, but in ours, it certainly does. I was trained early on to avoid speaking like that, just to avoid any possible conflicts. At least while we’re in Chath, promise me you won’t speak of it.”

  “Sure, I promise,” said Jarod. It was just another reminder of the different worlds the two of them lived in.

  * * *

  The rest of the day passed uneventfully. They soon made it out of the forest, and into the grassy, open plains that marked the farmland near the capital. The city loomed on the rise in the distance, so much larger across the open fields than it had been looking at it in the distance from Blackpool Outlook. They kept riding until nightfall, passing farms and small towns that dotted the countryside.

  By nightfall, they’d reached a little farming community known as Garen’s well where they stopped for the night. The inn there wasn’t even large enough to house all of them, so they slept in the common room. The townsfolk were eager to hear rumors of the mountain towns, and an excited sort of terrified to hear the stories of Jarod defending the village. None of the party was in the mood for a late night of carousing though, and they soon fell asleep.

  Jarod had dreams again that night. Not of the void and the Voice, but the more conventional confused dreams of real events jumbled with imaginary.

  He dreamed he was still in the mine, wandering the halls of that underground lair. The hallway before him seemed endless, with walls filled with runes that spoke to him in many voices as he walked past, each in some unknown tongue, sibilant and glottal.

  Every door he came across, he threw open, looking inside, searching for something that he couldn’t remember. First another library, then a bakery, then a throne room. Finally, he threw open a door to see Ionda hunched over the desk, writing something in those same strange runes.

  He shouted out in common, screaming at Jarod. “Contemptible fool, you cannot understand even a fraction of what I know! You will never feel my power! You will never gain my knowledge!”

  Ionda threw something at the wall, which opened up the same black portal he’d seen the first time. It unleashed the long, grasping arms, and the terrible screams that had come from beyond the veil of the spell. Stuck running in slow-motion, Jarod was unable to prevent the hands from grabbing at his neck and arms. They pulled him in, tight against the wall. Tighter still, until he was pulled beyond the wall of the spell, and into the darkness beside the screaming creatures, howling even louder than he.