Chapter 16

“Now, tell me what the hell is going on,” Marco said. “What is Tir a Tir? We’re supposed to be looking for Tir Yadar!” He’d been crankier than usual ever since getting stabbed.

“We are,” Ellerie replied. She’d refused to speak openly while they were still out on the streets, so Josip had found an inn that had enough rooms for everyone, plus a private dining room for the group to get together. “We have a good idea of the route to Tir Yadar, but we didn’t know where to begin. Now we do. Tir a Tir is the starting point.”

“We think it’s the starting point,” Bobo said.

Ellerie glared at him, but had to concede the point. The book had been ambiguous about where the author’s journey had begun. “Fine,” she said. “We think the road starts in Tir a Tir, but we don’t know for certain. This is Tir a Tir, though. The amulet I was holding earlier shows a skyline with seven mountain peaks that could be seen from the city. It matches the mountains we saw here. The heights, the silhouettes, the relative positions—it’s an exact match, or it would be if there weren’t so many buildings in the way. The city must have been smaller once.”

Josip said, “I grew up in Bancyra and I’ve never heard of Tir a Tir.”

“It was a very long time ago,” Bobo said. “Names and languages change over the centuries. It’s possible the entire city fell to dust, and Aencyr was built in the same location.”

Ellerie said, “Now that we know where to start our search, we need to plan the next steps. According to the route we’re following...” She hesitated. Marco didn’t know about the book yet, but she couldn’t keep it secret any longer. It was too difficult to explain what they were doing without it. “In the book we’re following, the author went due south first, to a shrine of some sort. Bobo translates it as the all-shrine, but we’re not sure what that means, and it’s unlikely that it still exists. Josip, do you know of any shrines to the south?”

“You mean a shrine to the old gods?” the man asked. “There are still a few around if you know where to look. I don’t know of any in that direction, but there are some people here I could ask.”

“It would be good to know for sure so we can decide how far south to go, but if you can’t find anything, we might be able to skip that part. After the author visited the shrine, he went east along something called the valtos road.”

“A swamp road? That’s why you asked me about swamps?”

“Yes,” Bobo said. “We’ve found the mountains we were looking for, so if this is the right spot, the swamp is probably the one you showed us on the map. Silent Waters, you called it?”

“Nera Athoryvos, yes, but I don’t know of any road going through it.”

“Can you ask around and see if you can find someone who’s crossed it?” Ellerie said.

Josip nodded.

“That’s all you have to go on?” Marco asked Ellerie. “What if you’re wrong?”

“Then I’m wrong,” she said. “Varsin knew this whole expedition was a risk. I didn’t make any promises that we’d find what we’re looking for.”

“Then what happens? You’d just give up and waste our entire investment?”

“It won’t be wasted,” Ellerie said with sudden certainy. “We still know more than we’ve ever known before. Regardless of whether this is the starting point, Tir a Tir and Tir Yadar must be on the same continent. I found other sources to corroborate that even before I left Terevas. And the winged snakes just confirm it.”

“The what?”

Bobo said, “The book we’re following mentions winged snakes during the author’s journey to Tir Yadar. According to every book I can find on the topic, winged snakes only live in Cordaea, mostly around Bancyra. Even if Aencyr isn’t the right starting point, we’re still close.”

“But it would be a guessing game after that,” Ellerie told Marco. “If this isn’t the right place, you can send a message to Varsin asking him what he’d like to do. I wouldn’t mind continuing on, but I can’t speak for everyone else. I don’t know how long it would take.”

“There’s something else we should all consider,” Bobo said. “If Aencyr is Tir a Tir, then Tir Yadar might still be settled as well.”

“That was always a possibility,” Ellerie said with a shrug. “Varsin would get what he wants, and it would still be an important find among historians, but for the rest of you, I don’t think there would be any shares to distribute.”

“I think we’d all understand,” Corec said. “Though we might need to look for paying jobs on the way back home if you don’t need us anymore.”

Ellerie nodded, then turned back to Marco. “To be honest, finding Tir a Tir itself should be considered an important discovery, but, unfortunately, only a few elven historians have ever heard of it. And while the architecture here is old, I don’t think it’s old enough to be original. It might be like Bobo said, that Aencyr was built over the top of Tir a Tir. If we don’t find Tir Yadar, I might come back here and study the city in more detail. Perhaps some of the old structures are still around, but buried.”

It could take years to learn anything significant, but it would be a worthy topic of study, and finding Tir a Tir was an accomplishment she could be proud of—even if it had required some help from Bobo. The two of them could write a book and release it in several languages, and make names for themselves among the scholars and historians who studied the Ancients’ civilization. Even if they did succeed in finding Tir Yadar, Tir a Tir would still be worth investigating.

Before anyone responded, a stoneborn man entered the room, dressed in fine clothing. He gave an elegant bow and looked around, his eyes stopping at Corec—or, perhaps, at the sword that was propped up against the wall behind him. He spoke in Nysan, and Josip’s eyes grew wide.

Marco translated. “He begs pardon for the interruption. He’s a messenger for the Lady Hildra. She requests the honor of your presence at her estate tomorrow.”

Corec shared a confused glance with Katrin. “Who is Lady Hildra?” he asked.

“She’s one of the leaders among the dwarves in Aencyr and the Skotinos Mountains,” Josip said. He looked like he wanted to add more, but then he eyed the messenger and closed his mouth.

The stoneborn man switched to heavily accented trade tongue. “Yes, yes, many apologies for wrong language. Lady Hildra requests your visit tomorrow. If tomorrow not good, perhaps another day?”

“I don’t understand,” Corec said. “I don’t know this Lady Hildra. Why does she want to see me?”

“The Lady is expert in ... how you say ... relics?” The messenger pointed to the sword. “She knew you were coming. Since you stop here, she sends me to invite you. She asks that you bring sword.”

“What does she want with it?”

“Only to look, only to look. If not sure, some sort of ... compensation, perhaps?”

“We’re just here briefly,” Corec said. “I don’t know if I’ll have time. Let me think about it, and discuss it with my friends.”

“Of course. I go now, and wait for your response.”

“Will the carriage drivers know how to find her?”

“Yes, yes. All know where to find Lady Hildra.” The messenger bowed to Corec again, then to the rest of the group. “Good day.” He left the room.

Corec frowned. “That was odd. She wants to see the sword? How did she know about it?”

“Lady Hildra knows all sorts of things,” Josip said. “If she wants to see you, you should go. She holds a lot of power in the city; she could cause problems for us if she feels slighted.”

“The stoneborn here have lords and ladies?” Boktar asked with distaste. Ellerie held back a laugh. He’d teased her before about the nilvasta using human titles of nobility.

Josip nodded. “Half of the Bancyran noble houses are dwarven. Hildra doesn’t belong to any of them, but everyone calls her Lady Hildra anyway, and she oversees the city’s dwarven council. Even the queen, up in Desat, sometimes asks her for advice.” He paused. “Well, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“Why would she care about the sword?” Corec asked.

“She’s a wizard now, but they say she used to be a weapon smith—the best in all of Bancyra.”

“So, it’s just professional curiosity?” Ellerie suggested. “That doesn’t explain how she knew about it, or that we were coming.”

Corec sighed. “I don’t want to waste time with this, but I suppose we should stay on good terms with the locals. The sword can protect itself if she tries anything.”

“Unless you’re dead,” Katrin pointed out. “Isn’t that what Venni told you?”

“Ahh, true, I suppose, but I don’t imagine she’d go to the trouble of a formal invitation if she’s planning to kill me.”

Katrin rolled her eyes at him.

“We can handle the resupply without you,” Boktar told Corec. “We’d planned three nights here, so we’ve got plenty of time.” He turned to Ellerie. “Unless you want to leave sooner now that you know we’re in the right place?”

Ellerie was tempted, but everyone needed a rest. There was also a nagging worry that the sooner they headed out, the sooner they might learn that she’d been wrong after all. It was easy enough to tell Marco that the search might fail, but she wasn’t eager to lose the sense of hope she’d felt ever since the mountains came into view.

“No,” she said. “Three nights is fine.”

Lady Hildra’s manor house was in an upscale neighborhood just beyond the north river, outside the official city boundaries. Opulent villas and mansions lined the waterway, each estate surrounded by enough land that the neighboring homes couldn’t be seen.

Hildra’s own manor was more rustic, reminding Corec of his father’s ancestral home. The servants showed him to a room they referred to as the workshop, where weapons were hanging from the walls and suits of armor in various states of repair lay disassembled on work tables. There was a rolling door on the far side of the room which opened into an outdoor smithy. The fires were cold, but it was clear that Hildra hadn’t given up smithing when she became a wizard.

Given the way Josip had spoken of her, Hildra was much younger than Corec had expected. She appeared younger than Boktar, who, despite being in his eighties, was still south of his middle years. Hildra was shorter than Boktar, at four and a half feet tall, but she was just as stocky. She wore a man’s loose blouse and leggings, and she was hanging a leather apron over the back of a chair when Corec entered. There were heavy steel bands around her wrists.

“Welcome to Aencyr, traveler,” she said in trade tongue. “Corec Tarwen, if I’m pronouncing it correctly?”

“Yes, that’s right.” He’d included his name in the note he’d sent her.

“And I am Hildra.” She didn’t mention any titles. “Thank you for coming. I’m happy to compensate you for your time.”

“I’m more interested in learning why you invited me. Your messenger said you’re interested in my sword?”

“I study enchanted weapons and armor, among other things. I trust you know that the sword carries a magical enchantment? I felt it coming this way days ago. Might I ask where you obtained it?”

“It’s not mine,” he said. “I’m safeguarding it for the stormborn.” That was as much as he was comfortable saying. The stormborn didn’t like to discuss the South Valley ruins with strangers.

Hildra raised an eyebrow. “The stormborn can craft enchantments? I’m afraid I know little about their people—I don’t often leave Bancyra.”

“They didn’t create the sword, but it was found in their territory in the Storm Heights Mountains.”

“How did you come to be in possession of it?”

“Nobody else can touch it safely. Someone told me it’s attuned to me.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Fascinating. Bonded weapons are rare. Including your sword, there are only three in the city right now, and two are in this room. Might I examine it?”

Corec shrugged and detached the scabbard from its harness. With his breastplate and chain shirt destroyed, he no longer wore his armor, but he’d strapped the harness on over his clothing. He drew the blade and laid both it and the scabbard on one of the work tables.

Hildra approached and looked over the weapon, then reached for it.

“Wait!” Corec exclaimed. “Don’t touch it!”

She lifted the sword by the hilt, hefting it in both hands. “Stronger defenses than I’ve seen before,” she said. “Good balance, but too unwieldy for my taste.”

“It’s not hurting you? How can you lift it?”

“I have a gift for enchantments,” she said. When she turned to face him, her eyes had gone completely black. She dropped the sword and it fell to the stone floor with a loud clang. “You’re a warden!” The black faded and her eyes returned to normal. “Why are you here?” She seemed tensed for a fight.

Corec held his hands out for peace. “Only because you invited me. I came to Aencyr to help a friend with something.”

“Who are you? Seven? Four’s a priest, and you’re no priest. That just leaves Seven.”

Not only did she know that the wardens existed, but she also knew details about their identities?

“I’m Eight, I guess.”

“There isn’t an eighth. There’s never been an eighth.”

“I’m ... new. How did you know I was a warden?”

“Arcane sight,” she replied, getting over her surprise and picking up his sword. She laid it carefully back on the table, then polished off a smudge with her shirt sleeve. “You must have seen your own bonds. Any warden or bondmate with arcane sight can see them too.”