The Eye of Tanglewood Forest (Haymaker Adventures Book 3) Page 9

  “Your bow?” a gruff voice called out from in front of the cell.

  Jonathan looked up to see a short figure with a rather square shape to him. His shoulders were wide and blocky. His waist was thick, and his legs were thicker. He was dressed in black trousers and a red, quilted vest with silver buttons and chains up the front. His mustache was as black as the night, held neatly in place at the ends with a gold clip of some sort. His beard was braided into a single plait that dropped half way down his front.

  “The name is Dignar, and I am one of the chief stewards here. If you want to get out of this cell…” the dwarf stopped talking and stared at Jonathan. “Stone-bubbles boy, you look worse than the others said. You aren’t feeling tight in the chest are you?”

  Jonathan rubbed his chest. “No.”

  “Difficulty swallowing?”

  “No,” Jonathan replied.

  “All right, then I suppose you will probably be fine.”

  “Probably? What do you mean probably?” Jonathan asked in a panicked voice.”

  “Never mind, you’ll be fine,” Dignar said. “Now, as I was saying, my name is Dignar and if you would like to get out of this cell in the next century, then I suggest you each cooperate with me.”

  “Will Jonathan be all right?” Ziegler asked as he stepped toward the cell door. “Because I promise, if he is in danger and you aren’t telling me the truth, I will tear down your mountain and rip your beard out before I choke you to death with it.”

  “Well, aren’t you a pleasant one?” Dignar said, entirely nonplussed by Ziegler’s threat. “Yes, the boy will be fine. I was just having a bit of fun at his expense. The worst that can happen is that his eyes swell shut for a day or two, but cold compresses can help with that.”

  Ziegler nodded and then backed away from the cell door. He looked to Jonathan and winked. “You’ll be all right.”

  “Dignar?” Jason asked.

  The dwarf narrowed his dark eyes on Jason. “Yes, that’s my name.”

  Jonathan knew what his brother was thinking. The pegasus, Ma’at, back in the preserve where they had been shrunken down to the size of fairies had told Jason that he would need to impress a dwarf named Dignar.

  “Now, as for that bow you claim is yours, how did you get it?” Dignar asked.

  Jonathan stood up and approached the bars. “It was given to me,” he said flatly.

  “Given to you? But look at you, you aren’t an elf. Why would anyone give Lysander’s bow to a human? Terrible shots, the lot of ya.”

  “I’d be willing to draw against you to prove it,” Jonathan said. “Set the target at one hundred yards if you like, then we’ll see who can shoot.”

  Dignar wrinkled his nose and then pulled a brown handkerchief from his back pocket. He blew his nose loudly and then placed the cloth back. “Well, that would be interesting. You see, we have an old prophecy here in Shuldern about a young boy who defeats our best archer in a tournament. I guess I never thought he would be using Lysander’s bow.” Dignar reached up and scratched the back of his bald head. “Kind of seems like cheating, actually.”

  “You have a prophecy about me?” Jonathan asked incredulously.

  “By the stones of Shorien, no,” Dignar said as he broke into a laugh. He pointed a stubby finger at Jonathan and nearly doubled over, his face reddening all the while. “Oh, but that was a good one. I had you going, didn’t I? Ah, I always loved the gullible folk.”

  “We have a right to know why we’re in here,” Ziegler said, cutting the dwarf’s laughter short.

  “Oh well, I wouldn’t be for talking about rights if I were you. After all, you were found on our territory, uninvited and armed. A dwarf might get the wrong idea.”

  “We’re just passing through,” Ziegler insisted.

  “Passing through our mountains?” Dignar said as he laughed again. “No, I don’t think so. Our mountains are not along the way to anywhere.”

  “We came south from Sierryn,” Ziegler said.

  Dignar’s smile faded entirely. “I see,” he said. “See any trolls by chance?”

  Ziegler nodded. “Killed each one we saw.”

  Jonathan tensed up. For a moment he was unsure whether Ziegler should have mentioned that fact. After all, if a high ranking elf was after the Astral Crystal, there was no sure way of knowing that he hadn’t recruited allies among the dwarves.

  Dignar locked eyes with Ziegler for a few moments and then he grunted. “Never met a troll with a head attached that I cared for anyway,” he said. “What brings you out to Shuldern? One doesn’t simply go troll hunting in Sierryn and then gallivant back down to the human lands.”

  “We saw some strange crystals, thought you might be able to answer some questions about them,” Ziegler said.

  Dignar nodded. “I know the right dwarf for that. Might I ask where you found these particular crystals?”

  “In secret chambers guarded by trolls and run by a nefarious group of elves that are hell-bent on finding the Astral Crystal,” Ziegler replied honestly.

  “Ah ha.” Dignar cleared his throat and glanced back to Jonathan. “Very well, now your turn. You answer my question about the bow. How did you come by it?”

  “I told you,” Jonathan said. “It was given to me.”

  “No one gives away a relic like that, boy,” Dignar said with a somber shake of his head.

  “He’s telling the truth,” Jason cut in. “I promise.”

  “Your promises mean nothing to me, tree-legs,” Dignar replied.

  “What about the word of Captain Ziegler, leader of the Ghosts of the Murkle Quags?” Ziegler asked.

  Dignar folded his meaty arms across his chest and shook his head once more. “I knew who you were when they brought you in. Your reputation precedes you. However, the word of a madman who fights trolls in their own swamps is not something I would rely upon in this particular matter.”

  “Then what?” Jonathan asked. “What proof do you need?”

  Dignar winked and then tilted his head to the side. “I need a name.”

  “The name of who gave it to me?” Jonathan guessed.

  Dignar shook his head. “No. There were several individuals who were there in the beginning of that great battle when the demon hunted Lysander. I want to know the name of the one who died holding the Astral Crystal.”

  “Well how are we supposed to know that?” Jason asked as he slapped the bars.

  Jonathan held up his hand. “No, he told me. Let me think a moment. It started with a D. Um… oh what was it?” He closed his eyes and thought hard. Yaen had told him who had touched the crystal. Jaeger was the gnome who had escaped and hidden the Astral Crystal once more. Yaen was obviously the one who remained and went crazy. But what was the name of the one who died? Then he remembered. “Drenylin,” he said. “Yaen said that Drenylin was killed when the crystal pulsed some sort of magical energy in an attempt to cleanse itself.”

  Dignar smiled and nodded. “Now I know you are telling the truth. Drenylin is a direct ancestor of mine. His name has been passed down through the generations. His sacrifice is one that shall always be remembered. You see, in a time when other dwarves refused to help those who dwelled upon the surface, we in Shuldern produced one of the finest heroes who ever lived. Sadly, the name Drenylin has been forgotten among all others outside of Shuldern. Even the elves have forgotten about him.”

  “But if he fought with Lysander, how would the elves forget about him?” Ziegler asked.

  Dignar shrugged. “Something to do with magic, or so they say. Jaeger, a great and powerful gnome used his magic to weave a spell of forgetting after Lysander was defeated in the canyon.”

  “Defeated?” Jonathan asked. “No, Yaen said that Lysander escaped.”

  Dignar shrugged again and scratched his head. “I’m not for knowing everything. I only know what it says in The Account of Rory the Stout-hearted. He was a dwarf who went in search of Lysander and Drenylin. He found only Yaen, and barely made it out of
the canyon alive – very narrowly avoided Yaen killing him with lightning spells. According to the book, Rory found a watery grave where Lysander fell. He only was able to get bits of information out of Yaen about the great battle and the fate of the Astral Crystal. He learned that Drenylin was slain by the crystal, and that the effects of the magic had driven both Yaen and Lysander into madness. Jaeger, the gnome, supposedly found a way to take the Astral Crystal away and hide it again. When Rory returned here, he set out once more looking for Jaeger, but at every town he was met by elves who didn’t seem to know the name. No matter who he asked or what books he searched, Rory was never able to find a single mention of Jaeger. It was as if he vanished from history. More than that, Rory discovered that Yaen and Drenylin were also forgotten. Even in the official records in the elven archives it is recorded that Lysander acted alone in trying to escape with the Astral Crystal. It mentions the battle with the demon, of course, but nothing is recorded about Yaen, Drenylin, or Jaeger. For whatever reason, only we here in Shuldern have any written memory of them.”

  “So that’s why you asked that question,” Jonathan said with a nod. “Because I would only know the answer if I was telling the truth.”

  “I would have settled for Yaen’s name,” Dignar said with a shrug. “But, knowing that he was crazy, it occurred to me that he might have told you his own name or you might have seen it written on the wall of his little stone house somewhere. But,” Dignar said with an upraised finger, “in order for you to know Drenylin, you must have actually spoken with Yaen. The fact that you know of Jaeger just serves to solidify my opinion even further.” Dignar fished in his left pocket and brought out a key. “Now, officially I must warn you that treachery and theft are not to be tolerated. Any crimes committed here will be met with swift and harsh justice.” He looked at the three of them and smiled. “But then, I don’t think I will have to worry about any of that with you folks.” He slipped the key into the keyhole and clicked it three times to the left. “Come, I will take you to where your supplies are being held. Then we shall go and see Shuldern’s finest gemologist. She’ll have the answers you seek about the crystals.”

  “Thank you,” Ziegler said. “Afterward we shall need to be leaving. We have a tight schedule to keep I’m afraid.”

  “There is a caravan leaving tomorrow to trade with the elves. Perhaps you can catch a ride with them. It will be faster than walking.”

  “That would be wonderful, as long as it’s in the right direction,” Ziegler replied. “We will be going to Tyrwyn.”

  “Ah, marvelous,” Dignar said. “I have some business there myself, perhaps I can interest one of you in doing me a small favor?”

  “Name it,” Jason said a little too quickly.

  Dignar looked at Jason curiously and then nodded as his smile widened. “Very well then, my eager friend. Come with me and I will explain the details in a moment.”

  The cell was opened and Dignar led them through a vast array of tunnels. They passed by several other dwarves, most of them wearing work clothes and aprons while they rushed about with barely a nod or glance in their direction. Dignar prattled on about the current king of Shuldern. Jonathan wasn’t listening very carefully, so he only caught bits and pieces here and there. He heard that the current king had taken the throne late in life as his father had lived exceedingly long, but that he had accomplished much on the field of battle. Dignar said something about creatures below in the deeper tunnels, but Jonathan was focusing on his surroundings.

  He had always thought that dwarves were meticulous artisans, and had expected the tunnels and doorways to reflect that. Instead, what he found were rough-hewn tunnels and simple doors of wood. There were no intricate carvings, no gems set into the walls or doors, not even decorative statues or sculptures. The entire underground city, or at least the part they were walking through, was rather blasé. Worse than that, the further they went, the hotter it got. The strong odor of sulfur filled the air and the heat itself was so thick in the tunnel that Jonathan could feel it going into his lungs when he breathed. He tried to open his mouth to see if breathing that way would be more comfortable, but then he could taste the heat.

  Dignar stopped at an open doorway and then turned back to smile at the group.

  “We will go through the forge,” he said. “Our destination is close at hand.”

  The dwarf then turned on his heels, smiling wide as he held out his arms as if to display the forge to them.

  When Jonathan walked through the doorway, he could see why Dignar had felt the need to announce the forge. The chamber was enormous. The ceiling was hundreds of feet above them, and obscured by layers of smoke and steam. Instead of columns of marble or some other type of stone, there were pillars of shining, polished steel. While the halls had been void of decoration, the pillars were not. Rings of runes were carved into the pillars and gems had been set inside the rings. Each pillar was polished to such a high sheen that it easily reflected everything before it. Standing between two of them was like standing between two mirrors, which turned the beautiful runes and gems into a dazzling display that had the illusion of continuing on forever. Off beyond the great vats that must have each been forty or fifty feet tall, Jonathan could hear the roaring hunger of fires and the whooshing of air as enormous bellows were worked by teams of dwarves pulling on levers and ropes.

  Metal scraped on metal as one of the spillways beneath a vat opened up. Bright gobs of molten metal plopped down into a trough, and then came a river of liquid gold. It coursed down the spillway and curved back around the vat, flowing to where it would be shaped and worked. The door to the spillway closed and a team of dwarves moved in quickly to scrape the trough clean.

  “No waste left behind,” Dignar said proudly. “Come, we must continue on our way.”

  The group followed Dignar as he led them down and around the eastern corner of the room. Jonathan kept his eyes on the vats and workers, watching them as they went about their tasks. More than a few of them noticed him as well, pointing and whispering as they sniggered. Jonathan could only hope that the swelling would wear off soon. He didn’t much like being the spectacle he had turned into now. He moved along quickly, averting his eyes from the others now and keeping his hands in his pockets.

  He smiled in spite of himself however when he saw racks of weapons and armor set on stands as they came to the other side of the vast chamber. Several dwarves pounded on unfinished pieces, shaping and bending the metals to their will. He was surprised that he had not heard the pounding when they had first come into the chamber, but as he looked back the way they had come he realized that the chamber was easily a quarter mile long.

  Then he heard another blast of steam and the fires roared angrily as a flash of orange rose up near the center of the room. Even being so close to the blacksmiths, the fires and steam easily drowned out the sound of the hammers for a moment.

  “Quite a set up they have here,” Jason said.

  Jonathan nodded and the group exited out the other side of the chamber. They walked through a narrow hallway that slanted downward. Unlike the other chamber and tunnels, the air that filled this one was cool, and damp. They walked down at an angle for several minutes until finally the hallway took a sudden turn to the left and leveled out. A few feet beyond the turn, the right hand wall of stone came to an end. A metal handrail with sturdy posts was set into the walkway, which was a good thing, for beyond where the wall should have been was a dark drop off that appeared to fall forever.

  “Watch your step,” Dignar called out over his shoulder. “If you go off the path here, no one will ever see you again.”

  Jonathan stopped and leaned over the rail a bit to get a better look. The darkness below nearly made him dizzy. He stepped away from the handrail and took an extra step closer to the left wall for good measure, then he continued along his way. After some time the void on the right turned into a beautiful scene as a waterfall appeared. The rush of water brought with it a cool breeze that
churned the air, making it fresh. From that point on, Jonathan could see an underground river running alongside the pathway.

  For the first several hundred yards the river was untouched and pristine. Several types of green and blue bioluminescent mushrooms and ferns grew next to the waters. There was even some sort of butterfly species with a long, glowing tail that flittered through the area in decently large numbers. Jonathan counted twenty of them flying along over the river, and noticed several more perched upon the ferns. Every once in a while a fish would leap from the water and take one down.

  “Maybe we should make a fishing stop here,” Jason commented.

  “Can’t do that,” Dignar said quickly. “The fish meat is poisonous.”

  “Poisonous fish?” Jason echoed. “Who ever heard of such a thing?”

  “It’s all right,” Dignar said as he pointed to the butterflies. “The fish keep the butterfly numbers down, and that’s good enough.”

  “Why?” Jonathan asked. “What could butterflies possibly do?”

  Dignar stopped and wheeled about on Jonathan with an arched brow. “Don’t tell me you have never heard of the Spinuvian Butterfly?!”

  Jonathan shook his head.

  Dignar threw his hands in the air and raked his fingers down the front of his face as he made a groaning noise. He turned and went to the handrail and pointed at the glowing creatures. “Those little winged devils lay their eggs in the water. Their eggs are so small that our filters sometimes don’t remove all of them. Then, if a dwarf drinks contaminated water, the eggs hatch inside. If you have ever heard the expression of ‘butterflies in your stomach’ that comes from these little nuisances. Except, when these things hatch in your stomach, they hatch as Spinuvian Caterpillars first. It’s sort of like being infested with a score of tapeworms, except worse. They will eat their way right out of you. As far as our best zoologists can tell, the fish here have special acid and other things inside their bodies. They can eat the butterflies, and the eggs, and even the caterpillars, and nothing happens to the fish. This is a good thing too. Before we understood this, our water supplies were nearly all contaminated at one point. However, with the fish hatcheries focusing on raising more of these fish, we have cleaned nearly every source of water inside Shuldern.”