NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: Adventures of the Creeping Bam (BOOK 2: One Cold Trail)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: ART

"It's definitely his, then?" Dar reaches out very tentatively from her crouch, which at her height honestly ain't necessary, but she hunkered down with us all the same, albeit on Zul's far side, which says enough. Keeping her distance from me, under the circumstances. Making a point, anybody can see it. Extending her index finger, she gingerly gives the hilt of the sword a little tap, and the whole thing wobbles where it's still jammed in the gouged brick. It's really wedged in there, looks like.

"Definitely his, yeah." In truth, I don't even need to sniff the blade, even if the dominant scent I'm getting is the oil that's been used to clean the steel. The air in this part of the alley's thick with smells just as I would've expected, but the strongest, freshest scent I could pick out of a crowd on a very hot day indeed. It's one I know almost as well as those of the two crouched here with me now.

Zul doesn't say anything as he finally reaches out and gently settles the blade. He lets his fingers linger for a few moments longer on the hilt, frowning darkly at it, looking like he's on the verge of violence now. He's not, but I know full well he's a turmoil of emotions inside right now. Zul knew him best, they were closest out of all of us, least in the beginning. Before we started training in earnest.

"When's last time you saw 'im?" I ask once the silence grows too much for me.

Darwyn shoots me a warning glare, but I ignore it. I ain't rising to her bait now any more'n I've risen to any of her other shit since we left the Arrowhead. I got about as much interest in revisiting that pit of shite as I got in asking Big Man for a deep tissue massage.

For his part, Zuldrad just takes his hand away from the hilt at last, his frown deepening further still. For a moment I think he hasn't even heard me, but as his jaw works with clear tension he finally turns to me, and with his lenses on now I can't make out his eyes anymore, but I know he's giving me a long, cool regard. Finally he lets out a breath that's mostly a hiss between his sharp teeth, and stands up again. "Five years now, at least. Wasn't a pleasant meeting, either."

This time Dar's glare is openly hostile, but I just roll my eyes as I straighten up too. I know Zul ain't pissed at me, just at fate for bringing Granzun back into our lives again. So I just take a breath and wait for him to decide he wants to talk, but for now he clearly prefers to maintain his silence. He'll talk about it when it suits him, or when he has to. Not before.

"All right ... how's that feel?"

Krakka's low rasp gets my attention at last and I'm reminded of what I found when we first came to this chaotic little corner of the city. Gael's still sat back against the wall, but they're working their right arm now, gripping and flexing their hand, watching the fingers move as they let out a slow breath. Their colour's already better, still pale but nothing like the stricken, ash-coloured pallor I remember seeing when Tulen ported us in. The relief in their face is clear, telling me the pain's gone now, the damage mended, our cleric's god magic once again doing its trick. Finally they manage a tight smile, but I can tell how sheepishly embarrassed they're feeling.

"Thank you." they breathe, reaching up with their left hand to press their shoulder while giving it a few little socket-rolls. It's taken a while to mend, but bones are like that, they take time for Krakka to fix and they're tricky, and this was an especially complex joint. It's growing dark now, the sky a very deep blue turning to a dark purple that's starting to show a few stars. If it weren't for Tulen those of us without nightvision would be starting to have trouble seeing in here now.

Once Kesla and the remaining few of our group had finally arrived and it looked like we might be here for a little while yet, she worked a little spell, pulling a few little things from her components bag and working a simple sigil in the air. Then she threw the whole mess together and the glowing symbol turned into an orange-sized globe of bright white light that slowly climbed to a ten foot height above us. It's a somewhat odd, uncanny light, picking things out a little too sharp and clear at times for my own tastes, but it's effective all the same. It's also the main reason Zul's kept his lenses on.