Kjaelle and Resa had lit the sconces with warm yellow magic and waited for them next to a vacant bed. Vantra helped Yut-ta get settled, and Kenosera retrieved pillows to prop him up. Xafane glanced about, then focused on the older ghosts.
“Where are Katta and Qira?”
“Tenathi collected them,” Kjaelle said. His shock earned him a comforting pat on the arm. “They’ve spoken on other occasions, and her concern about the Labyrinth prompted this meeting. They’ll return when they return.”
“Tenathi may find this of interest, too,” Yut-ta said.
“Do you need something to eat or drink?” the elfine asked.
“I’ve no appetite, but I think water will be good.”
Resa phased through the floor and returned up the stairs with a carafe and a wide-mouthed glass, far quicker than Vantra thought he should. He poured the drink, and the hooskine accepted. He scooped the water into his beak, tipped his head back, and swallowed. They chatted about the rambunctious crowd below while he drained two glasses, fast enough he shivered from the liquid’s chill. He finally sank back against the pillows and forced his shoulders to relax.
“Xafane says you know Lokjac disappeared. I knew something was wrong, when I entered his study and he left it in disarray. He’s neat to a fault.” Xafane squinted his disapproval at the description, which he ignored. “I asked around the temple and Selaserat, wondering if anyone had seen him, but two days later, Avarelle told me to halt my inquiries. Lokjac had traveled to the Labyrinth and would return when he returned. She gripped the pages she held so hard she crumpled the paper, so I knew she didn’t believe her words, and I don’t know why she lied.”
“This may be why she disappeared,” Xafane said, his tone heavy. “Someone bought her silence, then decided it was not enough.”
“Or she sent me to Dryanthium on purpose, to get me away from Lokjac,” Yut-ta said. “And after ridding herself of an opposing voice, her co-conspirators did the same to her.”
The stubborn looks they exchanged proved the disagreement had rubbed between them for days. Resa cleared his throat, and their annoyance dissipated.
“What matter’s now is that she’s gone, and Rudarig’s in charge,” the ghost reminded them.
Yut-ta thrummed his tongue in disgust at the pronouncement. “He is the snake in weeds, waiting for the opportunity to strike.”
“Why did the acolytes accept him? I never thought he had a large backing.”
“It was large enough. And he cowed many with threats of disappearance. Most assume he rid himself of two rivals, and a nymph powerful enough to send two elfine whizen to the Final Death is not an enemy they wish to have.”
Xafane nodded, melancholy. “Avarelle was not the strongest priestess, and the Sun’s Light was weak within the temple during her tenure. Rudarig grew the seeds of distrust and dissatisfaction she had sown and warped them into weapons.”
Vantra looked down at her clasped hands, mulling why no one mentioned their suspicion to a Death acolyte. Erse Parr had made her position on sending ghosts to the Final Death clear; outside the individual ghost’s decision, no one, except for her and Darkness, could purposefully deliver the deceased to the Void. Harsh punishments awaited those who violated her decree. Should she ask Kjaelle about it? The elfine did not appear concerned, but perhaps that was a show for those she did not know.
Yut-ta’s grip tightened on the glass, and she hoped he did not crush it. Sharp shards slicing his fingers would only add to his misery. “His acolytes became flagrant in their abuses and took revenge on the handful of us who did not bow. To convince us to accept his leadership, they bragged that he had the official support of Hrivasine. They said he met regularly with a ghost of privilege and authority to cement relations and elevate the Sun Temple, an accomplishment Avarelle failed to achieve. I thought it odd, they refused to name this contact, and stayed suspicious.”
“Because this privileged ghost doesn’t exist?” Kjaelle asked, settling down on the bed next to the hooskine’s. Resa remained standing, but Xafane joined the elfine, rubbing his hands together and regarding Yut-ta with sympathy.
“So I thought. I overheard two of them speaking while I was in the depository retrieving something for Xafane. They claimed the noble would meet him at an impromptu gathering at the Overloft, and they were uneasy about it because he ordered guards to accompany him. They thought he should remain in the temple if he had reservations, but he refused their advice. I was curious and followed him to this meeting.”
“What’s the Overloft?” Vantra asked.
“It’s a high-end dining and entertainment establishment reserved for elfines of distinction and their retainers,” Resa said, his sarcasm as thick as syrup. “Hrivasine gives passes to those he favors. Once you have one, any important event in your existence, whether happening to a living or deceased being, takes place there. The prices they charge for hosting would fill a king’s purse, and it all flows to Hrivasine.”
“I may meet the Final Death in shock, that an elfine behaves so,” Kjaelle muttered. The Light-blessed looked at her, and his anger receded at the unexpected proclamation. Kenosera, Xafane and Yut-ta chuckled together, amused, though Vantra only smiled, unable to shake her dread anticipation concerning the tale.
The hooskine poured more water and took another drink before continuing. “So I snuck in.”
“How did you manage that?” Resa asked with a startled laugh. “Security there is overblown.”
“I pretended to be a courier with expensive wine. Six bottles of Deccavent Red, vintage year 2 of Sephellina’s rule.”
Vantra’s ignorance showed, for she had no idea why that should impress anyone.
“How did you manage that?” the ghost asked again, though whether his amazement was for the bravery or the acquisition of such wine, she could not say.
“The Sun vaults have some nice things.” He grinned at Xafane’s pained squeak. “The place only hires umbrareign as staff, so I blended in, and since I had the uniform, I walked around with ease. I found the meeting and overheard Rudarig telling whomever he met to remind Hrivasine to mention his elfine and nymph royal lineage.” He glanced at his fellow Sun acolyte, then Resa, bird-quick. “When was the last time he used his nymph ancestry to influence the opinion of anyone in elfine-centric Selaserat?”
“Never,” Resa hazarded.
“I couldn’t place the accent of the unknown. I expected a Kanderite, but she didn’t sound like the older elfines. She left first, so I didn’t have to avoid Rudarig to get a good look. She wore a deep green robe with brown embroidery on the skirt that resembled leafless bushes all tangled together, and had small, tufted ears and a broader, black-tipped nose like many of the changeling mercenaries have. Unlike them, she had typical elfine gold-green eyes rather than slitted pupils and no fangs. What caught my attention most were the natural, de-barked sticks in her bun, and it took a moment to recall where I’d seen a similar style. It was in the painting depicting Kjiven meeting Strans in the Gubs Grand Hall. A fable, sure, but the umbrareign accompanying Strans wore those sticks in their hair and dressed in robes of a similar green.
“I don’t know of any ghost in Selaserat who bothers with Strans other than to obtain his Blessing to traverse the Labyrinth, so I thought it very strange, that this one seemed connected to him and had some influence over what Hrivasine told someone else. Curious, I followed her. She entered Yimbakji, and I got an odd foreboding, so turned around and left. I couldn’t shake the sense of wrong, so I visited the library, hoping to find references to his worship by faelareign.
“I found something in an ancient history of rainforest deities, but because it’s ancient, I couldn’t take it back to the temple with me. I decided to return the next morning to read it, and that’s when the changelings intercepted me. They were dragging me away when Vantra happened upon us.”
Resa pulled at his lip, frowning. “So Rudarig is involved with a Strans acolyte who can tell Hrivasine what information to pass along to an unknown entity.”
“Yes.”
“When did this meeting take place?”
“Five days ago.”
Kjaelle narrowed her eyes. “Around the time the library’s Finder materials disappeared.”
Yut-ta and Xafane gasped at the announcement. “The maps are gone?” the hooskine asked, aghast.
“Everything in the Finder room vanished, without the librarians knowing it was gone,” Vantra said quietly. “The corrupted roots attacked other map caretakers, especially those who record all of the pathways.”
“But how are beings traversing the Labyrinth?” Yut-ta shook his head. “I was a foolish litot, so stepped off the path to Luck’s Hold once. Without Lokjac finding me, I would have lost my way into death.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “He yelled the rest of the way to the hold of the dangers, and I haven’t forgotten.”
“It’s not been easy.” Resa sucked at his lower lip before continuing. “I met Strans with Qira and Katta, when we first visited Luck’s Hold. He had some eccentric ways of looking at things, but he wasn’t evil. He was perfectly fine co-existing with the elfine population, even if many of his followers were not. The deity I spoke with wouldn’t have corrupted the Nature and Sun Temples, he wouldn’t have targeted the map keepers, he wouldn’t have sent a monster to tear up a farm. What changed?”
“If you believe Rezenarza, there are two Touches of Darkness hidden in the forest,” Vantra said. “The corruption they nurtured there is now growing outward.”
“Rezenarza?” Resa asked, surprised.
“He’s hitching a ride with Vantra because he’s upset these Touches usurped his,” Kjaelle said. “He wants to do something about that, and she’s his conduit. Whether he means to or not, the information travels both ways.” The Light-blessed cocked his head, and Kjaelle nodded solemnly. “Katta noticed his presence near Fekj after our attack, but it seems his rivals annihilated his deeper rainforest connection.”
“You were attacked?” Resa’s animated outrage made Vantra wonder if he would have further words with Red about endangering himself.
“By rufang, likely Wiiv,” she said. “I think they were aiming for the rivcon’s sister’s entourage, and we just happened to be in the middle of it.” She laughed. “Don’t ambush pirates on water, especially those from Merdia who perform battle re-enactments.”
“Dough isn’t one to back down.” Deep respect filled the Light-blessed’s voice. “He and his mates have gone on several adventures with us, and their bravery in unfavorable situations is legendary.” He tapped his fingers against his upper arms, disgruntled. “I still can’t believe he and Qira know each other. They must get into all sorts of trouble together.”
“Hmm, maybe not as much as you suspect.”
“Do you think Yut-ta’s experience is related to the maps and corruption?” Xafane asked, drawing the conversation back to the current problem.
“Yes. We just need to figure out how. I think it’s obvious, Hrivasine’s people assume he knows something more than he actually does, and that terrifies them.” Kjaelle looked at Yut-ta. “Have you anything else to add? No? That’s good, because you need to rest. You can use that bed, unless you prefer another.”
The panic, briefly there and gone, alerted Vantra. What was wrong? “I think I’ll stay up here for the rest of the night,” she said. “If you need more water or an extra blanket, you just need to ask, and I’ll get it for you.”
Yut-ta’s pale, unblinking gaze confused her, then his shoulders and wings drooped. “I would hate to interfere with your evening.”
“I need time away from the loud tavern,” she said.
“The Light-blessed are a rowdy bunch,” Kenosera said, pointing at the floor. The faint sounds of roaring speech and laughter drifted from the boards. “Sometimes it’s nice to have quiet.”
Resa chuckled, finding more amusement in the words than Vantra thought the nomad meant. “I’ll have Leeyal send up food and drink and mist. He got the good stuff in this afternoon. I don’t envy the Light acolyte who opens the bill for the luxury mist.”
Kjaelle huffed and rose, and Xafane gained his feet. “Let us leave Yut-ta to his rest,” she said, motioning for the Sun acolyte to precede her. “And since we haven’t heard from Lorgan, perhaps the Light-blessed can check on Chisterdelle’s home and make certain they’re doing well. Despite Qira’s protections, after Yut-ta’s tale, I’m worried.”
“I’ll send a group once we get downstairs,” Resa said.
The older ghosts departed, leaving Vantra and Kenosera with the embarrassed hooskine. She did not understand the flush on his cheeks until he set down the glass and wilted further.
“You all noticed?”
“That you didn’t want to be alone?” Kenosera shrugged. “I wouldn’t either.”
Oh. Had he left the healing house because he did not feel safe from the enemy within its walls? She floated to her bed, triggered Physical Touch, and hefted her pack onto the mattress. “The enemy is sneaky. I have something I want you to keep with you tonight.” She withdrew the Sun shard from its pocket. Yut-ta’s beak fell open, then he leaned forward.
“I’ve read about those in Lokjac’s notes,” he whispered. “Important acolytes held them, and they helped in all sorts of desperate situations.”
“They did. I thought they’d all vanished, but we discovered this one. Qira’s certain it’s a Divine Glass.” She handed it to him; he frowned and took it, his attention captured by his reflection in the shined side. It brightened and glowed, flicks flowing from it and into his hand. “It will alert us if danger nears.”
His fingers slid from the point to the bottom, then looked at her, his pale eyes too bright. “You would loan me this?”
“Yes.”
The sides of his beak curved into a grateful, disbelieving smile. “This is a precious item, and you hand it to me.”
“Yes,” she said. “It will help us watch over you. So rest.”
He held it to his chest as if he clasped the most precious antiquity. He sank back into the pillows, wonder flitting across his face. She helped him get situated, concerned about his pain-induced wincing, while Kenosera retrieved a deck of playing cards from his pack. Before they settled at one of the tables, the hooskine had fallen asleep.
