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Book 2: Chapter 37

  "What do you mean, Jack was taken?" I burst out, my voice cracking. All the relief I had felt upon arriving at camp washed away like water down a drain. My mind braced itself for yet another difficult realization, and I almost forgot about Saresh skulking in the darkness behind me, his presence prickling the hairs on the back of my neck.

  “Exactly that,” Sana snapped, her shadowy eyes and hair appearing darker than usual. “During the battle to free the prisoners, Jack held off the Unionist soldiers. Then that Rokus came barreling through, hurling Unionist soldiers left and right. It hit Jack, too, and knocked him across the field to where the main group of soldiers was gathered. As we retreated, we saw them dragging him away.” Her voice sharpened to a hiss. “And now you bring a Unionist soldier to our camp? They’re our enemy. They kidnapped Jack and tried to kill us all!” She practically screamed at Saresh.

  Sana’s outburst drew the attention of the whole camp, causing a ruckus. Saresh stood behind me, barely illuminated by the bonfire, light on his feet and ready to dash into the surrounding forest.

  “If Jack’s alive, we will find him,” I said, acting as a barrier guarding him. “And maybe this Unionist soldier I brought can help. His name is Saresh.”

  “And why would he lend us a hand?”

  “I vouch for him. True, he was a Unionist soldier, but only because he had no choice, like many of the conscripted soldiers. When he traveled through the tunnels and the Labyrinth City, he helped me survive.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. I did most of the work to traverse the tunnels and the Labyrinth City. Yet Saresh felt like a companion and hadn’t tried to kill me. The fact that he headed toward the village instead of returning to the Union once he was free made me want to trust him. But it was possible he wasn’t a confident fighter and was biding his time for the perfect opportunity to backstab me. I would need to keep an eye on him, but I wanted to give him a chance to prove he could join our side.

  “You have to stop trusting everyone,” Kaylie said, drawing closer and placing a hand on her hip. “This is a war. Trusting people can get you killed.”

  “I don’t trust everyone. There was another soldier with Saresh,” I replied coldly. “I killed him. I can judge who to trust.”

  Sana’s cruel smile softened a little as she turned to Saresh, “Well, that makes me feel better about this one, but I am going to keep watching him. I'm Sana, by the way, and this is Kaylie.” She gestured toward the woman standing beside her.

  The warmer welcome brought Saresh out of my shadow. His shoulders relaxed, but he still stood close to me. His eyes widened when he noticed a short, stout figure moving behind the two women.

  “And I’m Bass,” a Dwarf chimed, stepping into view with a wide grin. “The good-looking one, of course.”

  “I’m glad to see you alive and well. It’s good you have people to keep your recklessness in check.” Bass said as I hugged him. I recalled the last time we were together, he’d been ready to get himself killed and likely drag us down with him by carelessly charging against the Union’s caravan. Surprisingly, it was Jack who managed to reason with him.

  Bass’s grin straightened to a line. “Yes, and most of us made it out alive thanks to your group. I thank you from the bottom of my boots to the top of my helm. My war hammer is yours, should you ever need it.” He held it up and struck a pose, though the image of the hammerhead barely reaching Sana’s eyes somewhat undercut the effect. “If these lasses hadn’t stopped me, I’d have marched straight into Goblin territory to get you, even if I had to wade through a hundred of those cave rats.” He paused for a moment, examining me. “Did they do that to you? Is that why you look like that?”

  “Like what?” Sana and Kaylie said in unison.

  Bass looked at Kaylie and said, “Give us some light and you’ll see.”

  We stood at the edge of the camp, far from the bonfire. Bass and I could see well in the dark, but the women didn’t have the same Ability. And I didn’t want to go deeper into camp and leave Saresh alone.

  The Dwarves were grouped mostly together nearby and were having a loud discussion of their own. They gave very pointed looks at Saresh, and I was certain others in the camp would be hostile to him. I couldn’t leave him on his own, not yet.

  Kaylie cast a spell, creating a flame in her palm, her hair shining as brightly as her fire. Warth's touch warmed my face, easing the evening’s chill.

  As she approached, I tried to hide my blushing cheeks as she drew near.

  She reached out to touch my face, but it was with her hand holding the fire. After I winced from the heat, she realized her mistake and quickly pulled it back, stepping away. “Sorry, I just can’t believe what I’m seeing. You’ve gotten paler. Are you sick?”

  “What did they do to you? How could I have not noticed?” Saresh leaned toward me in shock. He may have been with me for a while, but we were both in the dark.

  “I’m not sick or anything. My body is just a bit different.” I spent the next little bit recounting what had happened to me. Saresh occasionally offered comments, adding details that I had missed or didn’t want to mention. I didn’t like the others worrying about me so much.

  When my tale reached the part where I bound the city to me, Sana and Kaylie looked like children listening to a legend. Bass, however, appeared even more surprised.

  “You bound the city? That changes everything.” He turned around and walked to the group of Dwarves nearby and yelled at them to listen. He called every Dwarf in sight until he got everyone’s attention. “I nominate Alf, our savior, as our new chief!” Bass’s voice echoed in the open air as if he were in a deep cave. All their eyes turned to me, and the heat from the fire in the center of the circle suddenly felt more intense.

  The Dwarves erupted into chaos. Angry voices clashed with murmurs of disbelief, and the loudest among them were filled with outrage.

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  “An Elf? As our chief?” One of the elders scoffed, his thick beard bristling with indignation. “He’s not even one of us!”

  “Outsider!” another voice called from somewhere behind the crowd. “How can we trust him with our clan? He doesn’t know our traditions.”

  I stood by Sana, hands clasped behind me as I scanned the sea of furious faces. I wasn’t sure what Bass was doing. Was he trying to get his people upset with me? If so, he was succeeding with flying colors.

  A young Dwarf mother, her eyes bright, stepped forward. Her voice trembled, but she pushed through it. “He saved us!” she called out, looking around at the others. “Without him, none of us would be standing here now.”

  Some of the anger softened into uneasy silence. A few of the Dwarves exchanged glances, shifting from one foot to the other as the flames cast long shadows across their weathered faces. I could feel the gratitude of some, but their loyalty to tradition overpowered it. I could hear their inner voices saying that a chief had to be a Dwarf, no matter what.

  One of the Dwarf elders spoke again, “We owe him our gratitude, but not the title of chief. We have already narrowed down the choices to you and me, Bass. Why introduce this outsider? If you don’t feel comfortable with the job since you are so young, I will become chief.”

  “Aye, it be true I don’t feel comfortable,” Bass replied. “But Alf…”

  “See? Bass is unfit to be chief.” The Dwarf elder stroked his thick grey beard and faced his people. “And neither is this Elf, even if he saved us.”

  “Let me finish!” Bass’s voice boomed. “I was saying Alf would be perfect for two reasons. Firstly, it wasn’t me but Alf who saved our people. I could only slay a few of the Unionist soldiers. Without Alf luring the Rokus into devastating their forces, you all would have been their prisoners.”

  “We all know his contributions and yours as well.” The Dwarf elder sneered. “One good deed should not break generations of tradition. A chief is the most capable of our people!”

  Bass smiled, undeterred by his rival’s confidence. “But the second reason is more important to our people. After Alf fell into one of the fissures, he was forced to enter the Goblin territory. While there, he not only conquered the Goblins but also soul bound the city.”

  Every Dwarf shouted over the others. Their booming voices flooded the entire camp. Everyone could hear their opinions of Alf’s feat and what that meant for the Dwarven people.

  “That wee lass couldn’t conquer the Goblins. One Elf can’t do that!” one voice shouted.

  Another one stated, “It’s not possible. If the Goblins had the ring and the control room, they would have bound the city long ago.”

  Yet another voice came through, “Bass wouldn’t lie to us, so it must be true.”

  As their differing opinions devolved into insults and outrage, as threats of violence began to arise, Bass turned to me and said, “Hold up your hand.”

  Without thinking, I hastily followed his command.

  “No, not that hand. The other one, you buffoon.” Bass smacked his face as I corrected myself, holding up the hand with the ring to the city.

  The Dwarven voices died out one by one as each recognized the ring. Those who couldn’t identify it at a glance drew closer or asked their friends to confirm if Alf really did hold the legendary artifact.

  Bass continued, “As you can see, he has the city’s ring. He also has control over the city. Imagine not having to defend ourselves constantly against the Goblins. Imagine having the bonuses the city provides. We all know the Union will be back and in larger numbers, but with Alf’s help, this time we can be prepared for them.”

  “We could have a Warrior bonus,” a Dwarf suggested.

  Another argued back, “We should go with our plan to be a Smithing city. We could produce weapons to fight the Union off.”

  Yet another Dwarf yelled, “That plan only works if we have enough time to make the weapons to defend ourselves! It’s too late to resist; instead, we should become a Crafting city, making items to trade with the Union in exchange for a peace treaty.”

  “I already chose the specialty of Time Magic,” I shouted over their back-and-forth fighting that seemed to be going in the wrong direction.

  “Time Magic?” Bass turned back to me and looked utterly baffled. It was as if I said I could train squirrels to do my laundry.

  After having explained it so many times to everyone I met, I had come up with a simple explanation. “For every rotation of the sun, there will be seventeen within the city. Time moves faster in the…"

  “Why would the sun move faster in there. You can’t even see it?” An old Dwarf with spectacles yelled, and I realized my explanation was flawed for them. These people needed more precise measurements of time, rather than days, months, and years.

  “Forget what I said.” I held up my hand. “Now, imagine you’re sitting around a fire, and in the time it takes for you to roast a piece of meat to perfection, someone outside the city is still starting to put their stick in the fire. When you're inside the city, everything moves much faster. So while you can cook and eat a whole meal, outside, they’ve barely taken a bite. It’s like you’re racing ahead seventeen times as fast as the people outside the city.”

  Bass cut in this time, “I think what he is saying is there is a speed spell on the whole city. So it is not just us that moves faster, but everything. Say we were brewing beer. Now, beer is not just any drink; it’s a symbol of craftsmanship, patience, and community for us Dwarves. The fermentation process, which usually takes weeks to reach that perfect balance of flavor, would move as fast as us.”

  “That would give us more time to prepare, but a Warrior city would help us survive better,” the old Dwarf adjusted his spectacles and jotted down calculations on his notepad.

  Soon, the Dwarves began citing mathematics in their arguments, each having different opinions on how much Time Magic specialization could help them prepare their defenses. I was quietly listening when a sharp voice caught my ear and made me shudder.

  “If we kill Alf, we can take control back and change the specialization,” a Dwarf in ragged clothes said as he raised his chin. A few Dwarves with scarred faces and war hammers stood alongside him in support.

  Sana drew her bow while Kaylie burst into flames that covered her body. Saresh stood by my side. To my surprise, Bass moved right in front of us with his hammer pointed at the Dwarf in ragged clothes.

  Bass’s eyebrows crossed at the Dwarf. He scanned the crowd for anyone who might have supported the idea. “First off, anyone who wants to get to Alf has to come through me! Secondly, Alf saved our lives. You should be ashamed of yourself for even thinking of that! Thirdly, even if you killed him, you wouldn’t be able to claim the city. We now know the control center is on the Goblin side, and it’s not like we could do anything about it. Do you think you could get past the Goblins without Alf’s bonus to get to the control center?” Bass paused for a moment, waiting for a rebuttal. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Does anyone else think killing Alf is a good idea?”

  Finally, there was some semblance of silence. The Dwarves were speaking in hushed tones about what was more important, tradition or practicality. Sana put down her bow as Kaylie extinguished her flames. Saresh exhaled deeply and released me.

  “Thanks for your help, Bass,” I said with a smile. Without his intervention, violence might have erupted between his people and us. Even with help from my friends, I couldn’t have held off so many Dwarves. Though I doubted most of them would have attacked me. At that moment, many of their people looked at me with embarrassment rather than anger.

  “No problem. That guy’s nickname is Nuts because he isn’t too bright. He thinks more with his shiny brass balls than with his head,” Bass finished, adding a vulgar gesture that involved his hips. The Dwarves sure had an imaginative way of depicting things.

  “Colorful,” I replied. “Anyway, we’ve got bigger problems. Jack’s still missing, and we need to figure out how to get him back.”

  Of course, becoming their chief had interested me. I had hoped to gain the Dwarves' allegiance as a counterbalance to the Goblins, and this might even be better. Gaining their trust would take time, and I was willing to give.

  Jack’s rescue, however, could not wait. I had led the Rokus to the Unionist soldiers, and I was responsible for getting Jack captured. While I understood it was his choice to follow me, I refused to abandon him.

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