* * * * *
Early the next morning Iltar awakens to the darkened cabin. The necromancer gropes his way toward the compartment containing the light stone and opens it, spilling light into the room.
Once he removes and re-secures the light stone in the ceiling mount, Iltar sits back down on the cushion of the bed. He rubs his arms, realizing they must be clear of the tropical island for it to be so cool.
Turning to the chest, Iltar leans forward and opens its to view its contents. Along its left side are the scroll cases containing the original texts delivered to him by Cornar, as well as their copies.
“Which one is the worn scroll?” Iltar tiredly asks himself and silently recounts which case contains which scroll.
After a moment, the necromancer pulls one of the cases out and opens it, revealing one of the handwritten copies. Iltar leans back as he unrolls the scroll and rereads the transcribed material. His sapphire eyes are drawn back to several incomplete elven sentences: “The s…. is essential to completing the amulet, without it the metal jewelry is useless. With a shi…”
A smile forms across the necromancer’s face as he realizes what the text is saying. “Shiz’nak…” the strange word leaves his mouth. “I thought it was referring to the ruby, that ‘the stone is essential,’ with the ruby as the stone. However, none of the references in the books or the other scrolls refer to the Ruby of Lish as a stone.”
Iltar leans back against the wall adjacent to the bed. He rests his arms and lays the parchment against his thighs. The weight of this adventure becomes even heavier than before upon Iltar’s shoulders. With this new discovery in his mind, he rises from the bed and walks to the door.
10
Return
Inside the galley of the Farling, Hagen and Hex quietly converse about their ordeal on the Dragon’s Isle; the illusionist and wizard are the only ones in the room, sitting at a table on the far portside of the galley. A magically lit lantern lights the galley providing the only source of illumination.
Looking down at his glass of ale, Hagen continues, “It just doesn’t seem like Iltar really cares about any of us anymore. There wasn’t any sign of danger when that dragon died. We could have just picked up Igan’s body and buried him on the other side of the mountains.”
“I don’t think that dragon was playing us for fools when he let out that last screech,” Hex theorizes, trying to justify the situation. “No… I’m sure there were others that heard it. Don’t you remember hearing that faint sound to the north?”
“I don’t know…” Hagen throws his hands in the air. “I am sure we are all expendable to Iltar, and he’ll most likely drag us along until we’re all dead.”
“What are you saying Hagen? It’s too late to back out now.” The wizard stares at his friend as the sun breaks the watery horizon to the west. Beams of light stream through the port side windows of the galley as he continues, “The council will most likely torture and kill you for aiding Iltar. It’s best we stay with him, that way we at least have a chance to survive.
“Besides,” Hex consoles as he straightens in his chair, “None of us knew the capabilities of the dragons. I don’t think Iltar was counting on any of us dying. That island threw several surprises in our faces.”
After a moment of silence between the two mages, the door to the galley opens.
Shrouded in his robe, Iltar walks across the room and as he sees them remarks, “You two are up early for breakfast.”
“We never slept,” Hex answers with his cup in hand. “But I’m guessing by those words you did.”
“Yes, I did,” Iltar responds. “It was an exhausting ordeal.”
Hagen sulks in silence as Iltar draws closer to the pair. He struggles to hide his emotions, purposely averting his gaze from the necromancer’s approach.
“You’re still upset,” Iltar observes as he pulls a chair up to the table and sits down between the two mages.
“Of course I’m upset!” Hagen snaps, still looking at the table. “I saw one of my dearest friends struck down by a fowl beast! And you didn’t care one bit. You left him there to be eaten by those things.”
“I didn’t see you try to pick him up,” Iltar says shortly. “We were all running for our lives.”
“Why? Because Cornar said so?” Hagen finally looks up from his glass, defiant. “I’m tired of taking orders.”
“Well, none of us said you couldn’t grab him,” Iltar remarks while looking at his friend with some sympathy.
“I guess you’re right… I’m as guilty as the rest of you.”
“To your other point, Hagen… I don’t think those dragons would feast on his corpse. They seemed accepting of my presence when I first stumbled across them. The one that killed Igan was even protective of me at first,” Iltar pauses, glancing to both mages before continuing. “It really shows how much we don’t know of those beasts.”
Through his tiredness Hex perks up, “So were we in any danger when we fled? I saw you and Cor looking out the mouth of the tunnel. What did you see?”
Observing Hex’s eagerness, Iltar takes a deep breath; he looks at his two friends, whose faces yearn for the answer.
“Three more dragons,” Iltar nods his head. “Two circled around the ones we killed while another flew over head. That’s why I wanted us to travel back invisible. The tarrasque wasn’t my concern.”
“That makes sense now,” Hex says, still sitting upright in his chair. “Did you see the dragon? I mean after we got out of the cave.”
“No. Cor and I both looked as we ran, but we didn’t hear the flapping of its wings. I don’t think it followed us.”
“I hope not,” Hagen interjects. “It’d probably try to kill us for finding out their secrets.”
“I don’t think so,” Iltar responds thoughtfully. “I got the impression that the majority of the dragons on this world are not malevolent creatures; with the exception of that one I dealt with.”
As the others fall silent in thought, Iltar feels his stomach growl and rises from his chair, turning to the empty bar near the aft of the galley.
“There is some quance and some dried meat and cheese left from last night’s meal,” Hex calls out as he turns to look at Iltar shuffling around the bar.
Iltar winces at the thought of the hardened, preserved bread, but he steps through to the other side and searches for the remaining food. As he looks, the two men inquire about their next step of the tremendous journey.
“Where are we headed? It seems like we’re sailing south,” Hex asks while facing the necromancer.
“Yes, we’re headed south; I want to resupply in Soroth,” Iltar calls out from behind the bar. He busily cuts the dried meat and hard cheese.
“You’re kidding,” Hagen gasps in distress. “What about the council?! No… if what you told us is true, why are we headed back there? They’ll see we don’t have any apprentices! We’re all going to die!”
The short illusionist puts his hands on either side of his head and leans over the table, wondering why he agreed to trust Iltar so blindly.
“Don’t worry about the council,” Iltar says, maneuvering around the bar and back toward the two men.
Taking his seat Iltar continues, “They weren’t expecting us back this early anyway. Now, I have a plan, but I don’t want to discuss it here where anyone can come right in and overhear it.”
With stein in hand, the necromancer takes a sip of the ale and then breaks apart the cheese and quance. He places the two foods together with the dried meat, then puts them delicately into his mouth. All the while, the two other mages look at him.
“Then what,” Hagen asks, more a statement than a question.
“Merdan, more specifically Merda. That is the only solid lead the dragon gave us,” Iltar says between swallows.
“You get even crazier and crazier Iltar,” Hagen leans forward. Looking to Hex he reaffirms his earlier statement, “We are a
ll expendable!”
Iltar raises his brow and looks at the illusionist but continues to put the clumps of meat, cheese and hard bread into his mouth. Hex leans back, observing Iltar’s reaction.
Still looking at Hex, Hagen continues, “That place is haunted! Then there’s what the dragon said about some Devourer!” Turning to Iltar he demands, “You’re not really thinking about going there, are you?”
Watching Iltar silently staring at Hagen while chewing his morning meal, Hex responds, “You’ve heard too many horror stories Hagen. Merda isn’t haunted.”
The wizard leans forward and pokes Hagen, who is still leaning over the table. The push gently nudges the illusionist back into his seat.
“I’m serious!” Hagen stares solemnly at Hex, seeking support. “You know as well as I that the place is cursed. If it wasn’t, why doesn’t anyone live there anymore? What happened to the elves? The only inhabitants are on the western side of the island, across the mountains that divide the island in half. No one goes to Merda, no one,” Hagen spits out the last sentence.
After finishing his meal, Iltar finally speaks up, “Okay. You can stay home. I’m going to Merda, and this time I’m bringing as many people as I can. I’m sure Hem will be happy to take your place.”
Sensing the previous failure on the island still lingering about the two other mages, Iltar continues, “Besides, we would have overpowered those dragons with less casualties if we brought everyone with us. Even if Lorith had made it through the tarrasque’s lair we would have had a better outcome.
“I am going to go,” Iltar rises from the table. “But later I want to talk with both of you and Amendal. We will wait till later in the day when the others are awake… And the two of you need some rest.”
Once Iltar leaves the galley, Hagen and Hex continue their conversation in the now sunlit room.
“See,” Hagen motions with his hands toward the table with his palms facing upwards, “He wants to go to Merda, he doesn’t care about what dangers we face. All he’s after is that damn amulet!” Hagen tries to not shout the words.
“Iltar promised that we would be well rewarded for aiding him in this venture. But he also said there would be risks,” the wizard reminds Hagen. “You know we always face dangers on these adventures.”
“We’ve seen plenty of danger so far, don’t you think? What with the monster, three platinum dragons, and losing several of our companions? We have nothing in return,” Hagen replies tersely.
“Hagen, you didn’t think this would be easy did you?” Hex tries to reason with his friend. “We ran into a setback, that’s all,” he says the last with emphasis. “We need to stay the course with Iltar. Has he ever steered us wrong in previous adventures?”
“No he hasn’t, but this is not like anything we’ve been through together. Now he doesn’t care who is put in danger or who may die along the way. And I don’t like the idea of going to Merda. Hex, that place has a curse upon it, I tell you.”
“It may very well have a curse, but you know that Iltar doesn't go blindly into any situation if he can help it. He will prepare all he can before leaving for Merdan. I have confidence in him.”
“All Iltar cares about is Iltar. We are all expendable. I’m going to rest.”
With that said Hagen gets up from his chair and walks out of the room, leaving Hex alone.