Runespeaker

Chapter Ten

Elevar woke up in the morning to the sound of rain falling outside. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and looked around at the shelves full of medicinal potions and runes. Beside him, Brekulf was still asleep on the table.

After a moment, Tira appeared in the door to the back room. "You're awake," she said. "Good morning."

"Good morning to you as well," Elevar said.

"Your friend still hasn't stirred?"

"No. Still asleep."

Tira walked to the table and looked down at Brekulf. "Unconscious, more like," she said. "To say that he's asleep implies a sense of physiological normalcy that I simply do not think is present in this situation. Oh—one other thing: what's his name?"

"Brekulf," said Elevar.

"How do you know him?"

Elevar breathed in deeply, hesitating, and Tira turned to face him.

"We were brought together by a common enemy, I suppose," Elevar said after a long moment. He wasn't certain how much he should give away.

"The same enemy who smashed him open with an ax?"

"No," said Elevar. "At least, I don't think they're connected. Those were common highwaymen, as far as I could tell. We're chasing...well, I don't guess we know precisely who or what we're chasing." He paused for a moment, then decided to tell her. It was almost certainly unwise to trust such a complete stranger with this sort of information, but she had fed him and given him lodging in addition to treating Brekulf's wounds—and all without asking for a single copper. Surely the truth was the least he could give her in repayment. Besides, wasn't he already taking just such a risk in trusting the pirate? "I believe we are faced with some sort of conspiracy of blood magicians, but I know little more than that."

"A conspiracy of blood magicians?"

Elevar grabbed his bag, which was lying right next to him; reached inside; and pulled out his Sanguinaria. He flipped through its pages until he found the note once more. He handed it to her. "Here."

"Is that a Sanguinaria?" Tira backed away from Elevar, her face growing cautious, perhaps even hostile.

"I'm not a blood magician," said Elevar. "I am, however, a student of magic, and I believe that I should understand even those magical practices in which I do not partake. Anyway, look at the note."

As she read the note, her face grew more cautious but less hostile. "Gods," she muttered at last. "We have a blood magician looking for mercenaries?"

"So it would appear," Elevar said.

"And you and your friend want to stop...whatever is going on?"

After confirming her deduction with a nod, Elevar explained his situation—how he'd bought the book from the man in Tirne, how he'd found the note and then found Brekulf, the pirate's story, and the plans they'd made to sail from Heraal in search of a mysterious island hidden away somewhere in the waters of the far north. When he was done, Tira said nothing. Without a word, she stood up, grabbed a large bag from a desk in the corner of the room, and began filling it with medicines, runes, and blank pieces of speakingstone and breathwood.

"What are you doing?" Elevar asked.

"Packing," said Tira.

"Packing?"

"Well," Tira said, "I don't suppose I'd be much use without my materials, would I?

"You're coming with us?"

"Of course I am," Tira said. "Of course I am."

"You're—you're sure? I mean, we've only just begun our journey, and look what it's gotten us so far."

Tira looked briefly at Brekulf, his body so recently broken, then shrugged and continued her packing. "Here in Ril, I'm one of ten healers. Ten healers! They'll do just fine without me. Besides, I get a bit bored with the sorts of ailments I have to treat here. It's not often I get to deal with a wound like your friend's."

For a long moment, Elevar watched silently as she packed. "Well then," he said. "Thank you, Tira. I'm nearly certain your services will be needed."

Once she was done packing, Tira sat down on the floor next to Elevar. "I assume your Sanguinaria is a translation," she said. "What language?"

"It's not translated, actually," Elevar said. "It's in the original Middle Elven."

"Really? You can read Elven script?"

Elven script was largely inaccessible to humans. Elves were known for their incredible powers of perception. They could see tiny details that no human eye would ever catch. Thus, their letters were often differentiated from one another by such minute subtleties that only an Elf could tell them apart. This was why they were such good magicians. Their runes were amazingly precise, and an Elven runespeaker could thus create spells far more powerful than those of a human mage. Of course, there were so few Elves left in the world that a human was unlikely to ever have to compete with one. Mostly, those who were still around made their homes in Imperial cities, though a few of them could be found living in the countryside and—in a very small number of cases—in the farthest-flung reaches of the Northern Kingdoms.

"I can read it to a certain extent," Elevar said. "I'm one-sixteenth Elf on my mother's side, so I have a small portion of the necessary perceptive powers. Of course, there are some ambiguities. I cannot, for instance, tell an aralask apart from a rishril, but, with study, I can usually narrow a given symbol down to a few options and then choose the right one based on its context."

Tira opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a low groan. She and Elevar turned their heads to see Brekulf groggily sitting up, wincing, and laying back down. Elevar and Tira jumped to their feet and were soon standing over the wounded pirate.

"Where am I?" Brekulf growled.

"We're in Ril," Elevar said. "You're in the care of a healer."

"A healer? What happened?"

"You don't remember being stopped by thieves on the road?" Elevar asked.

"I believe he hit his head at some point, probably when he fell from the ax wound," Tira said. "Retrograde amnesia is not uncommon in such patients."

Brekulf rolled his eyes. "Gods. I'm surrounded by intellectuals. I don't have renegade aphesia—or...whatever you said. And I remember the thieves, Elevar. What did they do to me?"

"One of them opened your chest with an ax, Brekulf," Elevar said.

"And now," said Tira, "you need rest. Once you're ready, we'll head off to Heraal. But not until you're ready. Not until you're ready."

"I'm ready now," Brekulf said, once more trying and failing to sit up. As soon as he'd laid back down, his head snapped around to look at Tira. "Did you say, 'we?'"

She smiled.