Claire understand that to defeat Kane, she must master her magic. That means journeying deep within the forest, all the way to Esterpine, to study with the Sprites. But the forest isn't what it once was. A sickness is spreading, twisting all that it...
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Northern Barrier Range
Mikkin inhaled and noticed the change in the air. It was fresher, lighter, less damp. His heart thumped in anticipation. Daylight. It would be the first true light in nearly a month...or longer? Perhaps two? It was almost impossible to tell without the sun and moon. With the time he'd spent first in Shadowkeep's cells, then in Safuil, followed by their time on the Great Stone Road and its subsequent cities, he'd given up. Now he simply took things as they came.
He often wondered if by the time he stepped out of the mountain tunnels, whole years would have passed. Perhaps by then, Dragonwall would no longer be at war with Kane and his dragons. Perhaps by then, things might have settled.
"Best to keep the cloth down over your eyes at first," Fik warned, his voice echoing down the tunnel to the rest of them.
Beside him, Berbik cleared his throat. "We Dwargs don't much care for the light. But it is a nice treat now and again. And Fik will want to take advantage of the ravens to send a message to Lord Dubrael."
Fik and Gro had become something of friends to Berbik, Mikkin, Jamie, and Unka. Their other companions had grown closer too. Bul and Moz weren't much for talking. They communicated in strings of grunts when they didn't wish to be bothered with speech. They mostly took to scowling. But they were smarter than they let on, and quite skilled with blades. Mikkin was sure they had come along as guards, more than anything. Most impressive was when they'd singlehandedly disarmed Kisteg's patrols. It felt like weeks ago, now, when they'd first arrived on the outskirts of the Dwargen city that came after Safuil.
Kisteg's guards had mistaken them for intruders and had charged without warning. Bul and Moz made quick work of the lot before the rest of them pulled their own weapons free. It was all a misunderstanding. One quickly cleared up through a few rushed conversions in Dwargish. But it certainly impressed him.
Than, Net, and Bur were the diplomats of the group. They talked plenty when warranted, and their smooth speech was much like what Mikken expected a politician's to be. They were the ones that did most of the work in each great lord's hall, working to convince each Dwarg lord to rally to King Talon's cause. Despite their skill at persuasion, they'd had less luck than they'd hoped.
Kisteg, being Safuil's neighbor, had close ties and was willing to pledge. Unfortunately, the two cities that followed weren't so eager to risk open support. Fauthiel and Tulian both refused. The setback had done little to lift Mikkin's mood. But there was still Yberg and then Proaloth before they came to the coast. Port Ice, as the Dwargs called it, or Ice Port as most commoners said, would be the end of the road.
The torches dimmed as light began to filter into the tunnel. Mikkin's legs burned something awful with the mix between stairs and upward inclines. His breathing wasn't the only sound permeating the tunnel. Everyone's breath came in short bursts now. Beside him, Jamie was gasping.
