Lost City Read online

“How did you know that was there? I didn’t see anything. I still don’t.” Athos leaned towards the mountain then farther away. Then he tilted his body left, and then right.

  “This one is harder to see, that I’ll give you,” Breslin admitted. “You’d have to be very familiar with igneous rock, which I am.”

  Breslin tapped an unremarkable spot on the wall and gestured for Athos to join him.

  “Do you see this? As of right now, the wall is granite, which I presume is what this entire mountain is made of. Here, though, it changes to basalt. Basalt is formed after magma cools once it makes it topside. Granite forms as magma cools underground.”

  “So…”

  “So this section of basalt,” Breslin patiently explained, “has been blended in with this granite to make it look seamless. Only a dwarf could pull that off as skillfully as this.”

  Holding his hands out in front of him, Athos gently felt around the mountain’s wall until he had discovered the dimensions of the cleverly disguised entrance. Only if he stared at the rocks hard enough could he begin to make out the subtle differences between the two types of rock. No wonder no one had ever found Nar, Athos thought with growing excitement. Not only was Dual Tree blocking access from outside intruders, only the most gifted geologist would ever have a chance in discovering the disguised entrance.

  “What now?” Athos asked. “Should we bring the others up here?”

  “Absolutely. Notify Rhamalli.”

  “I’m already on my way to retrieve them,” Rhamalli’s voice told them.

  “Can we not have a private conversation?” Breslin demanded, addressing the empty air besides Athos.

  They both heard Rhamalli’s deep chuckle.

  Moments later they were pulling Lukas, Venk, and Tristofer through the tiny entrance under the tree. Once their party was together again, Tristofer turned excitedly to Breslin.

  “You found something! What is it? Tell me!!”

  “We may have found something,” Breslin informed him. “We found a hidden entrance leading inside the mountain.”

  Tristofer let out a loud whoop and rushed forward to embrace Breslin.

  “It’s Nar! I just know it!”

  “Unhand me. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Tristofer. We must investigate. We’ll need torches. See if you can find anything we can use.”

  Athos’s hand shot up.

  “May I suggest another course of action?”

  Dual Tree began swaying once more and several of its larger roots began pulling themselves out of the ground.

  Remembering that the tree was sentient, although how a tree could develop the ability to listen and respond to regular speech eluded him, Breslin held up both hands.

  “My apologies. We’ll find something else. No burning wood, I assure you.”

  The tree settled down.

  “Athos, go inside there and see if there might be a torch nearby. They frequently are.”

  Athos nodded. Losing sight of the opening yet again, he felt along the surface of the wall until he was sure he could duck through the small hidden door without smashing his head against solid granite. Athos slipped inside the mountain and disappeared. The group waited with baited breath. How long would it take?

  Athos reappeared almost instantly, holding a foot long torch, replete with dust and cobwebs.

  “There’s one more torch on the other side of the door, but I figured one should do for now.”

  “What else did you see?” Tristofer eagerly asked.

  Athos held up the unlit torch.

  “Nothing. Couldn’t see anything.”

  “Right. Sorry.”

  “Who’s got a tinder kit?” Breslin asked.

  “I do,” Venk answered. “But it’s back at the camp. Didn’t think I’d need it.”

  Everyone turned to Tristofer, who began patting down his pockets once more. With an exclamation of triumph, the scholar pulled a small leather-wrapped bundle from within his jacket and held it up.

  “I knew I had a tinder kit on me somewhere. Let’s get a –”

  Athos slapped a hand over Tristofer’s mouth.

  “Don’t even think about saying that word. Call it, I don’t know, call it ‘supper’. Let’s make supper once we’re all away from here, alright?”

  Tristofer nodded.

  “Can you make, er, supper in the dark?” Breslin asked.

  Tristofer shook his head affirmatively.

  “I believe so.”

  Breslin took his arm and shoved him through the hidden opening.

  “Excellent. Let’s go. Rhamalli, I trust you can hear me, we’re all going inside now.”

  “I’ll be in the area,” the dragon assured them.

  They felt the ground shudder as the huge dragon released his grip from the mountain and pushed off.

  Once the two torches were lit the dwarves took stock of their situation. The tunnel they were standing in was not that large, maybe five feet tall with enough room for two dwarves to walk side by side. With Breslin in the lead, followed by Venk and Lukas, then Tristofer, and finally Athos, they made their way down the dusty tunnel, heading away from the entrance and the outside world.

  “This is so exciting!” Tristofer exclaimed, pulling the torch, along with Athos holding it, from wall to wall, and even down to the floor. “It would appear that no one has used this tunnel in centuries! Maybe the last people who used it were the Narians themselves!”

  “That has to be why Dual Tree is outside,” Venk theorized. “It’s there to hide the entrance.”

  “I was expecting a little more flourish,” Athos remarked.

  “Me, too,” Venk admitted.

  “I’ll bet it’s a secret entrance!” Lukas added, speaking his first words since being brought back up the mountain.

  His father nodded. “It could be.”

  “We should properly excavate this whole area,” Tristofer said happily. “Who knows what treasure might lie beneath the ground?”

  Athos stomped his foot on the ground. A dull, muffled thud met their ears.

  “It’s solid stone. You won’t find anything buried down there.”

  “A very good point, Master Athos. Come! Hurry! Let’s see what else there is to offer!”

  Breslin held up an arm and signaled the group should halt. He pointed at a metal object on the left tunnel wall. Breslin gently reached up and brushed away caked dirt, dust, and cobwebs. A closer examination revealed it to be an oval plaque covered in runes and symbols. They might not have been able to read the message it contained, but what every member of their party did see, including Lukas, was the tiny upside-down hammer in the lower left of the plaque.

  “What’s it say?” Breslin asked, pulling Tristofer to the front of the line. He held up his torch so that the scholar could properly see the symbols on the elliptical metal surface.

  Tristofer pushed his spectacles farther up the bridge of his nose.

  “Well, let’s see. There’s an axe, and it’s leaning up against that kyte.”

  “Looks like the axe is sticking out of the kyte,” Athos chuckled.

  “Nonsense. A weapon next to an animal could mean, well, it might mean… Er… I’m sorry, I really have no idea.”

  “Our Narian scholar really isn’t proving too useful in Nar, is he?” Breslin good-naturedly joked.

  In the dark confines of the tunnel, no one saw Tristofer flush with embarrassment. But, he could tell he was being kidded, so he didn’t take offense.

  “Let me try again. It says, ‘This way to Nar’!”

  Lukas turned to look up at him. “Really?”

  “Perhaps. Sure, why not? Let’s assume it does!”

  They made it another hundred feet when they discovered why the tunnel appeared to have gotten so little use. It was sealed. A heavy stone door had been set into the tunnel and appeared to fit so snug that it could easily be believed that it was airtight. Athos took one
look at the door and then looked back at Breslin.

  “I’d say it’s time to use that hammer, eh?”

  Breslin looked down at the power hammer on his belt and grinned. He wouldn’t have thought it possible that the day could get any better. Apparently he was wrong. He was going to be able to smash something with his new toy! How fun!

  Pulling the hammer from his belt and relishing the electrified feelings the hammer was sending up his arm, he approached the door and readied his swing. However, before he let loose on the door he caught sight of a familiar item embedded into the stone: a glittering red jewel. He squatted down and traced the outline of the gem with his finger, clearing away a coating of dust in the process.

  “There’s a gem here,” he called back to the others. “Looks just like the one on the hammer.”

  “What happens if you touch it?” Tristofer wanted to know.

  “Nothing. I’m touching it now.”

  “Hold your hammer next to it,” Tristofer suggested.

  Breslin brought the hammer around and held the tool in front of the gem. A swirl of red light appeared deep within the jewel. Whether or not it was a reflection from his hammer’s gem he couldn’t tell.

  The door creaked noisily and swung inward. Athos stared incredulously at the scholar.

  “How’d you know to do that?”

  “I didn’t,” Tristofer confessed. “I was just curious to see what would happen.”

  Pushing the stone door forward enough so that they could all squeeze through, Breslin again took the lead and led them further into the mountain. Several times the tunnel they were following deposited them into another larger tunnel. Following the tunnels as they all sloped downward, they came across another sealed checkpoint. Breslin waved the power hammer in front of the gem, once he cleaned it off with the back of his hand, and the door creaked open.

  As they passed through the second checkpoint, Athos turned to look back at the door that was still ajar.

  “Should we be closing these things up? I have no desire to give away our presence if there is someone hiding in here.”

  Breslin paused.

  “Good point. Is there a gem on this side so that we won’t be trapped in?”

  Athos searched the door and found the dusty red jewel. He cleaned it off.

  “It’s here.”

  “Excellent. In that case, seal the door back up, please.”

  Athos leaned his shoulder up against the door and pushed it closed.

  “There. No one will ever know we were here.”

  “Sure they will,” Lukas countered. “They can see our footprints.”

  Surprised, the four adults looked down at the ground. Breslin held the torch down low so they could all see the ground. It was dusty. Very dusty. So much so that they could all see their own footprints as they shuffled about.

  Breslin laughed out loud. “Ah. Well, that’s that. Since it looks like no one has been this way but us I’m hoping it’ll stay that way until we leave.”

  Sounds of their footsteps echoed loudly as the five of them exited the previous tunnel and emerged into an even larger one. Breslin silently looked left, then right.

  “Which way? I can’t tell which way leads down.”

  “Which way is east?” Venk asked.

  Breslin and Athos looked left while he and Tristofer looked right.

  Venk rolled his eyes. “We have a stalemate. Lukas, you’re the tie-breaker. Which way do you think we ought to go?”

  Lukas walked over to his father.

  “Do you have the spell bag that Shardwyn gave you? It’s silk, isn’t it?”

  Venk shook his head. “I left that back in the…wait. Aye, I have it right here. Why?”

  “You’ll see. Tristofer, I need a sliver of metal. Do you have something I can use?”

  The scholar patted down his pockets and shook his head sadly.

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Do you have anything to mend clothes?”

  “I do have a needle and some thread somewhere in here.”

  “Can you find them for me? How about a bowl?”

  Tristofer began pulling things from his pockets.

  “Let’s see. Miniature tools? No, we don’t need that. Spectacle cleaner, emergency herb garden… ah! Here it is. There’s your needle, Master Lukas. What else did you need?”

  “A bowl with some water in it.”

  “Ah. I’ve got a bowl somewhere. Let me check my inside pockets. I brought one in case I need to make a poultice.” Tristofer handed Lukas a small, chipped, shallow bowl. “Will this do?”

  “Can someone put some water in it for me?”

  “Son, what are you doing?” Venk quizzically asked.

  “You’ll see. Father, can you take the needle and rub it along the silk for me?”

  Venk grunted and took the needle. He pretended he was polishing the needle as he rubbed the tiny bit of metal against the silk.

  Lukas selected a leaf from the pile of items pulled from Tristofer’s pockets. He leaned forward and looked into the bowl. No water yet. He poured water from his father’s bag into the bowl until it was about an inch deep. He gently set the leaf into the bowl. Then he pulled a string from the silk bag, threaded it through the needle, and gently placed the needle on the leaf. Lukas watched as the leaf slowly rotated until the needle was pointing back the way they had come.

  “Left,” Lukas promptly told them. “East is to the left.”

  Tristofer squatted down so that he was next to Lukas.

  “Where did you learn to make a compass, my boy?”

  “Master Graemlin.”

  “I don’t remember him,” Venk admitted.

  “He’s the one that said I needed to know how to survive if I ever got lost. He suggested you sign me up for some survival training.”

  “Hmmm, still don’t remember him.”

  “Once he met me he proposed extending the training by a week. Madisonia and I were gone for over two weeks.”

  Venk suddenly smiled. Now he remembered the two and a half weeks he and his wife, Elva, had experienced when both of their children had been whisked away to learn how to survive on their own. For over two weeks their household was blissfully quiet. He looked at his son and smiled.

  “It’s coming back to me.”

  “Anyway, one of the many things Master Graemlin taught us was how to create a compass.”

  Breslin slapped the underling on the back.

  “Well done, Master Lukas. Left it is.”

  As soon as they entered the larger tunnel, everyone noticed that the sounds of their footfalls changed pitch, as if the surface they were walking on had changed its composition. Out in front, Breslin glanced down, too, as he noticed the change. He swept the torch down low and revealed the tunnel had become paved. Large, flat flagstones deftly lined the tunnel floor, extending all the way to the curve of the tunnel walls.

  Even though the tunnel hadn’t been used for centuries, they could see that it was still in decent shape. Every thirty feet or so they’d find several pavers jutting up off the floor, as if an unknown force had pushed them from below, presenting unwelcome tripping hazards. Venk steered Lukas well away from the raised stones so as to prevent any accidents.

  Half an hour later the party had come to a halt as a new obstacle had presented itself. Another door, only this one was the size of a castle drawbridge. The massive arched door was again made of stone and was intricately carved with various scenes. Also woven around the perimeter of the door was a thin, delicate gold border that was no more than an inch wide. A closer examination revealed it to be interlocking gold rings. The intricate golden chain ran along the bottom of the door, up both sides, across the arch, and then ran down the front of the door to create four large interlocking circles. What they were able to see, though, were only the bottom two circles as the top two were too high for Tristofer to reach as he
was now cleaning off the door with a small, stiff bristled brush he had produced from one of his many pockets.

  Determined to clean as much of the door as possible, Tristofer began jumping in place and sweeping the brush in wide arcs. Leaving the scholar to hop about, Breslin and the others studied the sealed door that was before them.

  “It’s a security door,” Breslin thoughtfully mused. “It has to be. Look at the size of that thing!”

  Venk touched his shoulder and pointed at the direct center of the four interlocking circles. A dusty gem winked back at them.

  “There’s your way inside. It’s another gem!”

  Overhearing the news about the existence of the jewel, Tristofer abandoned his attempts to clean the door. Leaning up on his tiptoes so could better reach the large ruby set in the stone, he pulled out a rag from somewhere within his jacket and polished the jewel until it sparkled. He looked up at Breslin.

  “Would you do the honors?”

  Breslin nodded. He presented his hammer to the door. For several tense seconds nothing happened.

  “I don’t think this door likes you,” Athos commented with a chuckle.

  Breslin lowered the hammer uncertainly. Now what were they supposed to do? Bash their way in? He hefted the hammer and readied a swing. Tristofer grabbed his arm.

  “Wait! Put the hammer back. The gem had started to glow just before you lowered the hammer. Give it a little more time.”

  Breslin presented the hammer to the door a second time, holding it directly in front of the door’s jewel. Ten seconds later, the door’s gem began to glow. Two minutes later the gem was still glowing, but the door remained closed.

  “What do I do now?” Breslin asked, looking at Tristofer as he did so. “Keep waiting?”

  Tristofer nodded. “Let’s give it a few minutes. This could be some form of Narian security, or perhaps it could be that centuries of disuse have rusted the mechanics of the door and it’s unable to open? Either way, we should wait a little longer.”

  Breslin shrugged. The weight of his own arm was putting more stress on his body than the weight of the activated power hammer, so he was certain he could maintain the hammer’s position for a while longer. Nevertheless, he switched hands several times while holding the glowing gem next to the door.

  Nearly ten minutes later they heard several loud metallic clicks, followed by a horrible grating sound as one piece of metal scraped over another.

  The giant door inched forward. The dwarves waited with baited breaths. Was that as far as it would open? Breslin leaned into the door and shoved.

  The door didn’t move, although it did rock forward a millimeter or two before settling back to its slightly ajar position. Breslin nodded. It was up to them to push the door open far enough so they could gain entry. With the collective effort of all five of the group, the enormous door was shoved forward a few feet. Not enough for a human to squeeze through, but more than adequate for a dwarf.

  “Is this the main gate?” Venk asked Tristofer as he pulled himself through. His gut had come uncomfortably close to denying him entry into the city. He silently vowed to exercise more and eat less once he and Lukas were safely home.

  “I believe so,” Tristofer answered. “The size of the door alone suggests that this has to be it.”

  “Think it’s been opened since the time of their departure?” Venk wondered.

  The scholar shook his head no.

  “Look how long it took for us to get in. Did you hear that awful racket the door made when it opened? No, that’s the sound of a mechanical apparatus that needs to be serviced. Quite frankly I’m surprised it opened enough for all of us to pass.”

  “It didn’t,” Athos reminded him. “We had to force the door open, remember?”

  Tristofer had already disregarded Athos’ remark as they took in the sights of the abandoned city.

  Like the children’s book had depicted, the city was situated in a large, domed cavern where they could see that the large stalactites had been removed from the roof of the cavern, but over time, had started to reclaim the cavern’s domed ceiling. Soft golden light illuminated street after street of vacant, deteriorating buildings. Streets that were once paved just like the main tunnel entering the city were seen everywhere, but unfortunately, the conditions were far worse.

  Pavers had been pried loose and cast aside. Several streets looked as though they had buckled, suggesting some type of seismic activity had befallen them. Wherever they looked they could see damaged buildings, regardless if they were huge gathering places or the smallest of residences.

  “Something bad has happened here,” Breslin remarked, looking around. His voice had dropped to a whisper. “If I were to venture a guess, I’d say a massive terra tremor is to blame for their downfall.”

  “Agreed,” Tristofer whispered.

  Venk nudged Tristofer in his ribs. Once the scholar turned around, Venk pointed at the distant buildings.

  “What’s the source of the yellow light? It’s not that bright, but enough to see where we’re going.”

  “Do you remember that decorative golden border on the main door?” Tristofer asked him. “I think that’s their light source. It’s probably part of their technology. Look around! That gold chain is everywhere. That’s why we can see the buildings. It’s because they are all laced with that border. Quite ingenious, if you ask me.”

  “Is it me or is it getting brighter in here?” Athos asked, looking up at the overhead ceiling then back at the city. He had only been able to make out several of the streets when they first beheld the city, but now he was easily able to see that the city had three or four dozen streets and at least several dozen buildings per street. Had it always been like that?

  “It’s your imagination,” his brother told him as he steered Lukas around another broken paver.

  “No, he’s right,” Breslin announced. “Look. I can see the extent of the damage Nar has undergone. Looks like the eastern part of the city was hit hardest. Tristofer, any idea what’s going on with the light?”

  Tristofer shook his head and shrugged.

  Lukas tugged on his father’s sleeve and pointed at the ground. “Father, look! More footprints!”

  Venk, Athos, and Breslin all squatted down to inspect the damaged street. Several sets of tracks were visible in the heavy dust, heading in every direction, approaching every structure. The closest was a large two story building that had housed two different tenants. None of the footsteps entered either shop.

  Breslin walked up to the larger shop’s open door and leaned in. He waved his torch around the room.

  “I see at least three circular ovens. Broken crockery is everywhere.” Breslin bent to retrieve a palm-sized piece of pottery. “This has a gold pattern running through it, too. What it’s trying to depict, I cannot say. Any ideas what this shop might have been used for?”

  “A bakery?” Venk suggested as he looked into the adjoining second shop. This one was much smaller than its neighbor, having a simple corner work table and a few shelves.

  Venk knelt on the hard stone floor and picked up a tiny chisel. A closer examination revealed a hammer, a second chisel, a pair of tweezers, and something that had a hook on one end and a pick on the other.

  Brushing aside some of the dust on the floor revealed a glint of color coming from under the primary workspace. It was a tiny curl of gold, generating the tiniest bit of light. With his back protesting loudly, Venk straightened and inspected the tiny shaving of gold. Where had it come from? How long had it been on the floor? Why was it… The curl stopped glowing. Venk’s eyes narrowed. Why had the gold shaving gone dark?

  Ignoring the stab of pain his back was sending him, Venk knelt back on the ground and held the curl down low. It began to glow again. Eagerly brushing aside several inches of dirt and dust revealed a number of other pieces of gold, all discarded as though they were the wood sha
vings. All the gold pieces glowed until Venk straightened back up.

  Athos poked his head in the room. “What do you have there?” He leaned over Venk’s hand and eyed the gold shavings. “Not much there, if you ask me. Still, it’s a good start.”

  “Forget the gold for a moment,” Venk told his brother. “It’ll glow if I hold it down to the floor. It stops once I move it away. Bizarre, huh?”

  “It must be part of the gold border found on all the buildings.”

  Venk nodded in agreement. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  He gave the shavings to Tristofer and explained what he had learned about its behavior. The scholar nodded in appreciation and dropped the gold shavings into a vial which promptly disappeared into his jacket.

  “From the looks of this one,” Venk told the others as he came out of the smaller shop, “I’d say that they vacated the premises very quickly. I found tools and several gold ingots sitting in a small room at the back of the building. I doubt they would have left the gold willingly.”

  “Correlates with the first,” Breslin reported. “Broken pottery everywhere. There were a few intact pots sitting on shelves and even a large ceramic bin in the back which I presume held flour. Wait. You found gold? I wouldn’t think they would have left that behind.”

  Venk grunted. “Right. I just said that. Why would they leave the gold?”

  Breslin shook his head. He pointed at the ground. “No, I mean, why would these people have left the gold? According to the tracks, they didn’t even bother going in to this building. What were they searching for?”

  “Let’s find a building in which they did go into,” Athos suggested. “Maybe then we’ll figure out what they were doing.”

  Venk held up a hand.

  “Wait a moment. Son, come here. Let me see the mark.”

  Lukas approached and lifted his shirt. The mark was still there.

  “Thanks, just checking.”

  “What’d you do that for?” Athos asked, curious.

  “Clearly we have to do something now that we’re here,” Venk explained. “If not, then the mark would have disappeared as soon as we stepped foot into Nar. Now that we’re here, and the mark is still there, we know our quest isn’t done.”

  “Over here!” Breslin called out from up front. He was pointing to a large, single story structure that was easily twice as large as the first building they entered. “I found a building that they had entered.”

  Tristofer nodded. “Let me guess. You’re going to find a forge in there.”

  Breslin ducked through the open door and then reappeared moments later. He nodded.

  “Aye, there is. How’d you know that?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” the scholar asked. “It’s a blacksmith shop. I’m willing to wager every blacksmith here in Nar has been thoroughly searched.”

  Understanding, Breslin tapped his cuirass.

  “Armor.”

  Tristofer nodded. “Exactly. Nar is known for their armor. It’s coveted by everyone and fetches a high price whenever a piece is put up for sale. The intruders, as I’ll start calling them, obviously value armor more than gold. Why else would they leave those ingots behind?”

  “They left them behind because they didn’t know they were there,” Athos argued. “I think if they would have found them then they would have taken them.”

  Tristofer shrugged. “Possibly. But the fact that they didn’t even bother suggests they thought it wasn’t worth their time and effort.”

  Unwilling to argue the point any further, Athos grunted and returned to his examination of the neighboring buildings. Catching sight of a structure across the street that had a set of tracks leading into it, Athos nudged Breslin and pointed it out. A quick glance at the surrounding shops revealed one other structure had also been visited by the intruders.

  Splitting into two teams, as they had two torches between them, Athos and Breslin explored the second shop while Venk, Lukas, and Tristofer took the third. Both teams reported the same thing: a blacksmith had set up their foundry there. As with the first, the two blacksmith shops had been picked clean.

  Breslin’s eyes were drawn down to the ground. Athos approached on his right while Venk approached on his left. They, too, looked down. Several fresh sets of tracks, as though they had been made just yesterday, were seen heading off into the city.

  “Has anyone been walking around out here?”

  There was a chorus of ‘no’s. Breslin motioned for everyone to huddle close.

  “Those tracks are fresh. I’d say no more than a couple of days old. Not only is it safe to say that someone has been pillaging Nar of its treasures, but also whoever is responsible appears to have returned recently. We must be on our guard regardless of whether or not that person is still lurking about. Master Venk, keep Lukas close. Tristofer, stay close to Athos. If whoever made those marks happens to still be here, I’d just as soon not let them know we’re here, too.”

  “You’re really worried about that?” Athos demanded.

  Breslin frowned. “And you aren’t?”

  Athos pointed back towards the main entrance. “At this point I’d say trying to sneak around is pointless. If there’s someone here, they’re going to know we’re here, too. Not only did we create quite a ruckus just to gain entry, we…”

  “We don’t know if that could have been heard in here,” Breslin argued.

  “There’s a layer of dust in there that clearly shows footprints,” Athos continued, “as we’re following a set right now.”

  “Maybe they won’t know who made the tracks?” Venk suggested.

  “And finally, the city is becoming brighter by the hour. Look around! Give it an hour or so and we won’t need the torches.”

  “I’ve noticed that.” Breslin turned to face the scholar. “The longer we’re here the brighter it’s getting.”

  “I believe the city is reacting to our presence,” Tristofer hypothesized. “How remarkable!”

  “There is a chance that someone else may be lurking about,” Breslin conceded to Athos. “However, we can’t worry about that now. We’re here for a reason and we need to find out what that reason is. For now, we investigate. Everyone ready? Good. Let’s see where these tracks lead.”

  Breslin pulled Mythryd from his back and silently followed the fresh footprints through the city. Twisting and turning, the prints lead them down wide, worn, paved streets as well as narrow, dark alleys running between large buildings. Moving further west through the city, they noticed that the damage to the buildings here was much less severe. A few streets showed some slight damage, but otherwise the western section of the city was damage-free. Only one in five buildings showed any signs of damage and of the structures that were, only a few large cracks could be seen running up the walls.

  “How could an earthquake destroy one half of a city without harming the other?” Breslin wondered aloud as they all stopped to rest.

  They were standing in a small plaza with vacant shops all around them. Doors hung open. Counters were strewn with various items necessary for that shop’s business. Tracks had approached these shops, too, but hadn’t entered any. Most of the tracks were almost filled back in, suggesting that whoever had made them did so many years ago. The tracks they were presently following were still fresh, but none of the others were.

  Resuming their trek through the somber city, the footprints finally dead-ended at another of the city’s sealed doors, only this one wasn’t sealed shut. The stone door was just barely ajar and moments later they saw why: an old, dented shield had been jammed between the door and its frame.

  “Get a load of that,” Athos commented as he squatted down next to the shield. He looked at the others. “I could pull it out and let the door close. Then they’ll never make it back in here.”

  Breslin was silent as he considered.

  “Better not. To do so would announce o
ur presence.”

  “You don’t think the rising levels of light in there have done that for us?”

  “Alright, point taken,” Breslin grumbled. He tapped the door and nodded towards the other side. “Where do you think that goes?”

  “To another hidden entrance,” Tristofer answered. “Whether on the same mountain or a different one remains to be seen. But I’ll bet Bykram lies in that direction.”

  “So we found where the intruder has been entering the city. Thanks to the amount of dust on the streets we should be able to tell where he went on his last trip here.”

  Athos groaned. “You mean –”

  Breslin nodded. “Right. Back to where we started out from. I want to see where these tracks go.”

  Retracing their steps back through the city, Breslin and the others kept a close eye on the fresh tracks in the thick dust. Breslin looked behind them to see the numerous tracks now leading towards the propped open gate and then back again and could only hope that whoever had just recently visited wouldn’t be back for a while. The last thing he needed to worry about was someone getting the drop on them that may or may not possess Narian tools and weapons.

  The set of tracks they were following veered to the right so that it ran directly in front of a row of buildings. More shops, Breslin guessed. He surmised that the intruder was studying the buildings and was looking for more blacksmiths. It wasn’t until they had ventured further east, past the point of their earlier arrival, when the footprints stopped in front of a non-descript structure, approached a window, then headed straight towards the door. Breslin and Athos both stuck their heads through the door long enough to verify that this building once housed a blacksmith.

  They could see footprints everywhere as the intruder searched every square inch of the structure. Exiting the ancient workshop, Breslin pointed east and trudged off as they followed the prints to another blacksmith. And another. And another.

  “Do you get the impression that this person is getting desperate?” Breslin suddenly asked, breaking the monotony of the stifling silence.

  “I do,” Venk agreed. “Think he’s running out of armor?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind,” Breslin admitted.

  “How does someone go about selling a piece of Narian armor?” Venk inquired. He looked over his shoulder at Tristofer, who was walking side-by-side with his brother. “How would you do it, Tristofer?”

  “I’d contact someone who is familiar with marketing, uh, such goods without attracting attention.”

  “Have you ever heard of someone selling Narian armor?”

  Tristofer nodded. “Every so often a piece changes ownership. Nothing to warrant any attention.”

  “What about hearing of a single person selling multiple pieces of armor at different periods of time?” Venk asked.

  Tristofer turned to regard his companion outfitted in red leather armor. He pulled out a rag, polished his spectacles, and put his glasses back on his nose while simultaneously stuffing the rag back into a pocket.

  “An interesting question. I am reminded of a time, a number of years ago, when I still lived in Bykram. Master Rohath, knowing my area of study, contacted me nearly a decade after I had last seen him and said that one of his students had come to class wearing a set of Narian gauntlets. Ordinarily I wouldn’t have thought much of this, and Master Rohath agreed, but the following year a different student came with a different piece of armor. A single greave, if memory serves, worn on his left leg. Just the one, mind you.

  “Master Rohath’s curiosity had been piqued, so when the next year a third student had appeared, wearing a guardbrace over his right shoulder, he finally pulled the pupil aside and asked him about the armor as clearly it was being worn as a symbol of status. ‘My father bought it for me’ the underling had told him. He looked up the two former pupils of his and was given the same answer. Knowing my penchant for any information on Nar, no matter how obscure, he tracked down one of the pupil’s fathers and asked where he had purchased it as he knew of one other pupil, me, that would love to have a piece. ‘A friend of a friend’ is what he was told. When he contacted me and told me this I dismissed it as fanciful coincidence. Now, I’m not so sure.”

  “How long ago was that?” Venk asked.

  Tristofer thought back to the days after he had been exiled from his home city.

  “At least fifty years, maybe sixty.”

  Athos looked down at the ground at the set of prints that had almost been covered back up by more dust.

  “Those tracks could be fifty years old.”

  Venk held up a hand.

  “I’m curious. Your field of study is Nar, right?”

  Tristofer nodded.

  “An old master of yours contacts you out of the blue and informs you that he had come across three different pieces of Narian armor in as many years. This doesn’t spark your interest?”

  “It did,” Tristofer admitted, “but I had just been banished and contact with one in exile was forbidden. Master Rohath risked his career and reputation just to contact me. Even so, I felt betrayed, and I had no desire to return to the city, not that I even could.”

  “Knowing now that Nar lies so close to Bykram, do you think the events are related?” Without waiting for the scholar’s response, Breslin continued. “I think it’s perfectly clear. Someone has been selling armor at Bykram and has been doing it for quite some time.”

  “And they’ve managed to avoid suspicion,” Athos added.

  “Why the fresh tracks then?” Venk wondered.

  “They’ve run out,” Lukas suggested.

  Venk and Breslin both jumped. They had forgotten that the usually quiet and reserved underling was standing nearby.

  Breslin looked over at the boy standing next to Tristofer. “You think they’ve run out of armor to sell, is that it, Master Lukas?”

  Lukas nodded.

  Venk looked back at the recently ransacked foundry and was silent for a few minutes. Athos approached and elbowed his brother in the ribs.

  “What’s bothering you?”

  “I can understand why the intruders were searching for armor,” Venk slowly began as he continued to work out what was bothering him, “but that forge had been thoroughly searched, from top to bottom. Armor isn’t that small. A cursory glance should be all that’s needed in order to determine if any pieces are present.”

  Intrigued, Breslin looked back at the foundry, too.

  “What are you thinking, Master Venk? They were looking for something else?”

  “Aye. And clearly they thought it could only be found where there are forges. I think they were looking for clues.”

  Understanding, Breslin nodded, followed closely by Athos. Bewildered, Tristofer looked at the other three adults before snapping his fingers in front of their faces.

  “Pretend I don’t know much about metallurgy, or common blacksmithing practices. What were they looking for?”

  Breslin turned to the scholar and nodded. “That’s precisely what they were looking for.”

  Tristofer’s spectacles slid down the length of his nose and teetered precariously. “What? What were they looking for?”

  “Clues! They want to know how the Narians made their armor. Think about it! If the secrets the Narian’s employed were ever discovered then other pieces of armor could be replicated and then passed off as authentic Narian artifacts. They’d make a fortune!”

  Tristofer puffed out his chest and crossed his arms in a rare act of defiance. “Not in my lifetime.”

  “Nor in mine,” Breslin agreed. “We learn the identities of the intruders and put a stop to this scheme. I think that’s what the Questor’s Mark wants us to do. It wants us to save Nar!” Breslin thrust out his right hand. “Are you with me?”

  Tristofer didn’t hesitate and laid his hand over Breslin’s. “Absolutely.”

  Athos laid his hand over Tristofer’s. “I’m i
n.”

  Father and son added their hands to the others. “Us, too.”

  Breslin eyed the underling. “This has the potential of getting dangerous, Master Lukas. You must stick close to your father’s side at all times, is that understood?”

  Wide eyed, Lukas nodded.

  “Tristofer,” Breslin continued, “you will become Athos’ shadow. Do not leave his side for anything, no matter what you see. That reminds me, do you have a weapon?”

  Tristofer shook his head no. Breslin pulled his small hand axe from his belt and held it out handle first to the scholar, who gingerly accepted.

  “Where do we go?” Venk inquired. He looked left, then right. “Which way?”

  Breslin held the torch down low once more and indicated the ground. “We follow the footprints. A great number of them head this way, to the east.”

  Athos shoved his torch down into the ground and twisted until it was out. Breslin glanced up and then around. He noticed that the levels of light had continued to increase and were now at a level in which the torches had become unnecessary. Both torches, once extinguished, were cast aside.

  “Can you tell if the most recent tracks also head east?” Venk asked.

  Breslin and Athos squatted low and peered at the many sets of footprints scattered throughout the dust. Both dwarves nodded. Athos wordlessly pointed east.

  Gripping his crossbow tightly, while Athos brandished his axe, the two brothers took the lead while Tristofer and Lukas followed close behind. Bringing up the rear was Breslin, who was constantly turning to check behind them to verify they weren’t being followed. The number of tracks began dwindling off the farther east they progressed. As they moved away from the heart of the city, and presumably from the mass of blacksmiths, the number of tracks also declined, as clearly the focus of the massive city-wide search existed elsewhere. The tracks they were following were joined by others coming in from other parts of the city. All were headed east, the same direction they were traveling now. So many tracks converged together that they were now following a trail through the heavy blanket of dust.

  Approaching the far eastern wall of the cavern, the group stopped and stared with amazement. The trail dead-ended right at the wall, but the wall itself is what caught their attention. Carved into the granite were ten columns forty feet high. Directly in the center, with five columns on either side, was a huge arched doorway, complete with a thirty foot high door. As before with the partially closed security gate, this door, they could tell, was also ajar. A single chair, stripped of all adornments and jewels, was jammed in between the door and the frame, preventing the massive door from closing.

  The wall glowed brightly at their approach. The golden chain was present all throughout the columns and wall, but the light from the columns paled in comparison with that of the door.

  The illuminated golden chain had been expertly attached to the quartz crystals embedded within the granite door. Grand sweeping arches, more interlocking circles, and jagged patterns all covered the exquisite door, giving the first appearance of a vast conglomerated mess of swirled lines and shapes. However, the more the dwarves stared at the door, with its brightly glowing decorations, the more the many patterns and shapes seemed to blend in flawlessly with one another. The more they looked, the more they were convinced that they were looking at a masterful piece of art and that this door was the entrance to Nar’s imperial palace.

  Tristofer moaned quietly as he noticed the exquisite chair jammed into the palace door. He quietly ran his hands along the dented tarnished metal, not knowing that the chair itself was of the finest silver ever smithed. He peered anxiously into the dark recesses behind the door and immediately noticed that the open space the damaged chair had created was just enough to allow a dwarf to pass.

  Without waiting for the others, Tristofer hopped up onto the chair and boldly jumped into the darkness. The scholar watched with satisfaction as the great vaulted room began to lighten as the chamber detected movement. Moments later the rest of his group was standing next to him. Athos smacked the scholar on the back of his head, sending his spectacles flying off his nose.

  “Don’t do that again, you fool,” Athos growled ominously at him. “We stick together. You will allow one of us to go first in the future, agreed?”

  Hastily retrieving his glasses, Tristofer faced Athos’ angry glare and meekly nodded.

  “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I had to see what was in here!”

  “Try harder next time,” Athos told him. “There’s a chance someone could still be in here.”

  “I don’t think so,” Tristofer countered. He pointed at the closest wall. Several of the golden patterns had started to glow and were becoming steadily brighter. “Had there been someone else that passed through here, this room would already be lit. Look how it illuminated itself once we arrived. We are alone, my friends.”

  Comforted by that thought, Breslin returned Mythryd to its holder on his back. A moment later he pulled the activated power hammer from his belt. Holding the unique hammer tightly in his right hand, Breslin beckoned for the others to follow.

  The room they were in must have been a dignitary receiving room as it was large enough to accommodate several hundred people. Broken tables, chairs with missing legs, and damaged walls met their eyes. They noted with dismay that many of the chairs that were still intact were similar to the chair holding open the palace door. Just like the one outside, these other chairs had been picked clean of all their jewels and other valuable accoutrements. Even the nearby walls, once festooned with gold and jewels, lay stripped clean.

  “Never have I been so ashamed to call myself a member of the Kla Rehn,” Tristofer whispered in shock. Everywhere he looked he could see further evidence of the intruders’ destructive work.

  “Do not hold all the Kla Rehn accountable,” Breslin softly told him. “I believe this is the work of one person, or perhaps by one family over a long period of time. But, by thunder, that ends now. Whatever remains will be preserved no matter the cost.”

  Tristofer softly murmured his thanks. Athos and Venk both gave the scholar a friendly slap on the back to show their friendship and their support.

  “Prints are everywhere,” Breslin reported as he squatted to inspect the floor. “I would imagine this was the first location that was pillaged, followed closely by the surrounding blacksmiths. We need to investigate, but the question is, do we do that separately or together?”

  Venk cast a worried look at his son. Athos, catching the concerned look his brother had given his nephew, cleared his throat.

  “We should stick together. We know nothing about our adversary, which unfortunately includes how well they’re armed and what their numbers are. Until we know what we’re facing, we shouldn’t split up.”

  Breslin nodded. “Agreed. Master Tristofer, you wanted to find Nar. Congratulations. We’re here. Where would you like to search first?”

  “Well, perhaps we should search for an armory. I, for one, would like to know if our adversaries are armed with Narian weapons.”

  “Agreed. We should head to –”

  Lukas suddenly grabbed Breslin’s sleeve and tugged backwards, bringing him to a stop.

  “Do you hear that?” the underling anxiously asked.

  Fearing that Lukas had heard something which indicated one, or more, of the intruders had returned, Breslin tossed the power hammer to his left hand while reaching his arm behind to pull Mythryd free. Seconds later, Venk and Athos were also holding their weapons.

  “What is it?” Breslin whispered down to Lukas while straining to hear whatever sound the underling had heard. “What do you hear? Have they returned?”

  “I hear…”

  “Tapping,” Venk finished for his son as he straightened up. He looked around the large chamber and wrung a finger in each ear. “At least I thought I did. I don’t anymore.”

  “It�
��s stopped,” Lukas whispered. He pointed back towards the far wall of the room. Two large, and very open doors were visible, as were several dozen prints all headed in that direction. “I think it came from that way.”

  Athos shook his head. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “No one hears anything at the moment,” Venk softly told him. “Lukas heard it for just a moment.”

  Lukas suddenly jumped up and grabbed his father’s hand. “There it is again! Do you hear it?”

  The rest of the group finally heard it. A soft, repetitive tapping echoed softly throughout the room.

  …tap-taptaptap-tap-tap-tap-taptap-tap…

  The tapping stopped as abruptly as it had started.

  “I heard it that time,” Breslin quietly informed his companions. “Young Lukas is right. It came from that way. Follow me and keep quiet. No unnecessary speaking, is that understood? Tristofer, that goes for you, too.”

  Tristofer nodded and tapped his sealed lips.

  Once more, the tapping resumed. Breslin motioned for them to follow. As quietly as he dared, Breslin moved off towards the source of the noise. They passed through one of the open doors and entered a large, curved hallway that led away from the main hall. Breslin held up a hand and signaled everyone to wait. Within a few minutes, the golden chains present in the hallway began glowing, giving off their welcoming light to the visitors. After waiting a few minutes more so that they could see where they were going, they followed the curved hallway until it dead-ended into a smaller chamber with many doors leading off in different directions.

  Standing just inside the second room, they waited, motionless, for either their eyes to acclimatize to the lack of sufficient light, or else for the chains to awaken and give off their illumination. A few moments later they were off again, heading towards a doorway twenty feet away.

  …tap-taptaptap-tap-tap-tap-taptap-tap…

  “That’s it,” Breslin said in the softest of whispers. “Keep tapping. You’re making this too easy for us.”

  Athos softly grunted in agreement.

  The hallway they had just entered had doors on either side of the hall for a stretch of at least two hundred feet. Venk counted nearly twenty five doors, a dozen on each side, before they were forced to stop. Another door barred their way, only this door was unlike any they had encountered thus far.

  A solid iron door, resting on recently oiled hinges, blocked their way. No fewer than four heavy bars stretched across the length of the door and anchored itself into the stone walls on either side of the door. Heavy iron padlocks held each of the bars firmly in place.

  “Does that look Narian to you?” Breslin asked, confused. “What’s a door like this doing here?”

  Athos walked up to the sturdy metal door and peered through the tiny slit at eye-level.

  “Looks to be at least a foot thick. The bars are set into the wall on both sides, and each bar is locked in place. Someone clearly wants to keep people out.”

  “I’d say it’s more likely that they want to keep someone in,” Tristofer countered.

  Athos, Venk, and Breslin turned to stare at the impressive iron door. One by one, they turned to look down at the power hammer.

  “If you use that,” Venk cautioned, “then the chances of getting in and out of here unnoticed become very slim.”

  Breslin hefted the power hammer and eyed the door.

  “If there is someone on the other side of that door then this is starting to make perfect sense. Whoever it is gave us the hammer. Why? Because he knew that there would be no escape without it. Look at the door! Impenetrable, I’d say.”

  “Unless you have a hammer that can pulverize rocks with a single blow,” Tristofer whispered, understanding.

  “Exactly. Stand back. We’re going to find out what’s on the other side.”

  Venk steered Lukas away from the door and retreated a safe distance down the hallway. Once he was sure his son was out of danger he loaded his crossbow and waited to see what the outcome would be. Athos, also armed and ready, joined him. Tristofer appeared moments later, both fingers shoved into his ears. Venk clapped his hands over his son’s ears just as Breslin let the first blow fall.

  Venk cringed at the sound. The concussive blast echoed noisily down through the hall and, Venk was sure, out into the city. A second blow landed, and now a gritty cloud of dirt and debris appeared. The third blow struck, and despite the heavy ringing in their ears, they could hear a great cracking of stone. The fourth blow punched the steel door right through the wall and sent it toppling over with a loud clang.

  Fanning away the heavy dust and pulverized stone that was now prevalent in the air, Breslin waited patiently for his vision to return. Twenty seconds later, when it finally did, they could see the true power the hammer held, as the door itself was still in one piece but was now heavily dented. The four bars that had been anchored into the surrounding stone wall had been ripped away from the wall, taking huge chunks of stone with it.

  They were now in a well lit chamber that was piled high with books, scrolls, charts, and maps. A lumpy mattress was pushed up into a corner. Several threadbare chairs were scattered about, including a large chair that would be considered over-sized for a dwarf but average for a human. Adjacent to this chair was a rickety shelf full of ancient books. Sitting in the chair, looking like he wasn’t the least bit surprised that someone had just forced their way into his chamber, was the most ancient and wizened dwarf that anyone had ever seen.

  A long, dirty, unbraided beard lay unfurled along the ground. Long, thin white hair also came close to brushing the ground, but had been tied up with a simple leather cord. A plain threadbare tunic, long since faded to khaki, and a pair of worn black trousers patched in several places, completed the picture.

  Before anyone could ask the elderly dwarf a question, the ancient fellow surprised them with a smile and a bow. He turned to Breslin and shook his head.

  “You sure took your time, boy,” the ancient fellow accused. His voice was clear, strong, and completely belied his appearance. “I had just about given up hope.”

  Breslin was flummoxed. He cleared his throat nervously.

  “Do you know me?”

  The little fellow threw his head back and laughed heartily. What came out was a cackle that practically curdled their blood.

  “I should say so, boy! Maelnar, is that any way to treat your father?”

  Breslin’s eyes opened in shock. No one ever called him by his birth name. In order to prevent confusion, he always asked that people call him by his middle name, Breslin. Who was this person?

  “How do you know my name?”

  Confused, Lukas looked at the tiny old man. He pointed back at Breslin.

  “His name is Breslin, not Maelnar.”

  “Breslin? Breslin?? You’re lying. You must be.”

  “Maelnar Breslin is my given birth name,” Breslin explained to his companions. “To make sure the two of us aren’t confused, my father goes by Maelnar and I go by Breslin.”

  “Your father?”

  Everyone turned back to the ancient dwarf. He slowly got down from his chair and hobbled over to Breslin to study him closer. The old dwarf’s eyes widened with disbelief.

  “I can see it now. Dear me, how long have I been gone?”

  Breslin stared at the tiny stooped being and dropped down to one knee as he finally realized who he was facing.

  “Grandfather.”

  Chapter 12 – Once Upon A Nar