“That’s exactly right,” Koradan said, relieved that Ashd understood. “Once we leave this village, we might need to be a lot more sneaky.”
Stay here. Vreki like.
Unfortunately, Koradan had no answers for that one, so it was a conversation they would have to have another day.
“I have two more gems,” Koradan said to the other men, holding them up. “I don’t know if they work. I haven’t tested them. Lynette had a whole box of jewellery that had been taken from the warriors’ victims, and she’s gifted it to us to help us get settled in this world. Some of it we might be able to sell at some point in the future. But as a starting point, there were three of these buried in amongst the other jewels. Try them on,” he said, offering one to Rodgard and the other to Melowin. “Let’s see if they work.”
“They could have been designed for a different species,” Rodgard said, even as he fastened it about his neck. “If this gem is assuming that I’m a female hadathmet, we could be in for some interesting results.”
He was right, and that was the downside of trying to repurpose second hand jewels. Though the glamour spells were all designed to render the wearer ‘human’, there were multiple variations needed for each species. The hadathmet had tails. Salases had horns. Or it was just about possible that this gem had actually been designed for a unicorn. Koradan had heard that the human world had animals which were quite similar, known as ‘horses’, and a unicorn could be disguised as one in order to escape human notice for a time. If that was the case then there was little chance of the gem having any effect on a bipedal salas.
Rodgard muttered the spell, then cursed under his breath as he swiftly took on a human form. “Great gods, that feels strange,” he said, patting himself all over. “No horns, no claws…” He peered up at Koradan, suddenly realising he was shorter than the shortest member of their group. “Definitely not designed for a salas,” he muttered, curling his lip in disgust.
“But passable, in an emergency,” Koradan said. To his inexperienced eyes, Rodgard looked as human as any other man in the village. “If we ever run into a witch, we might get her to redo the spell, but for now, it’s workable. Melowin? What about yours?”
Melowin fastened the gem around his neck and recited the spell. But aside from a faint flicker of light emanating from the gem, nothing happened. “Not designed for a salas,” Melowin said, removing the necklace. “And presumably, whatever it was designed for is too different for this to work. Keep it though,” he said, handing it back. “Like you said, if we ever find a witch, she could fix it for us.”
“For a hefty price,” Rodgard muttered. “Bloody mercenary bitches.”
“Yeah, because we worked for the Stone King for free, didn’t we?” Sigmore said drily. “And he just happened to give us rooms in the palace to live in, food to eat, and clothing to wear out of pure generosity, right? A witch’s greatest asset is her magic. So they charge for it. For the gods’ sake, they’ve got to earn a living somehow.”
Rodgard gave Sigmore a saccharine smile. “How about you take this one,” he said, removing the necklace and holding it out. “From what I hear, you’re going to need it far sooner than I will.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rigolard asked. As usual, he was the last to hear any pertinent news – or to realise the implications of recent events.
“Sigmore had quite the interesting night at Hazel’s house,” Melowin said, living up to his reputation as a gossip. “According to Charrice, Hazel was always ‘the pretty one’ out of the three sisters. Never short of male company, though she’s been dragging her feet about actually settling down with someone. Trying to buck the trend, are we?” he asked Sigmore.
“Vreki riders don’t get married,” Sigmore said. “It’s nothing serious.”
“We’re no longer bound to the code of the Stone King,” Koradan pointed out. “I have no particular opinion about whether or not a salas should get together with a human, but you might want to have a think about what Hazel expects to come of this before you go any further. Because I’m busting my ass trying to get the humans to like us, and the last thing I need is one of them crying foul because of a broken heart.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Sigmore said, sounding just a touch contrite. But interestingly, he made no denial over the idea that he was interested in Hazel.
“So back to the obsidian,” Koradan said, trying to resolve that issue, at least. “Lynette said-”
“I’ve seen a few chunks of obsidian littered around the mine,” Rigolard interrupted. “I picked up a few and put them in Lign’s saddle. I know they’re not much use without a witch, but I thought it was worth keeping them, just in case.”
“Good thinking,” Koradan said. Based on what Lynette had said, the miners weren’t going to miss a few lumps. “I’d like to ask the miners if they’ll allow us to take a few more. I can make up some plausible reason why we need them,” he added, knowing that they couldn’t just announce their true purpose to the village. “At some point in the future, we might be able to trade some with a witch in exchange for her fixing the spells in our gems. And if we’re lucky, we might even be able to buy a few more.”
“Fancy plans,” Rodgard said. “But today, we’ve still got to clear that shaft and make a start on getting those men out of there. And that’s before we even start trying to convince the villagers to let us stay.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“We need another support. No, no, long one… thanks.”
“Take this. Get another bucket.”
“Forget the bucket, we need a rope.”
“How’s Alti doing down there?”
“There’s too much dust. We need to take a break.”
“Chuck a bucket of water down. That’ll dampen the dust.”
“Where’s that other plank? No, the long one!”
Lynette stood to the side of the ventilation shaft, listening to the ongoing efforts and slowly fraying tempers of the miners. Every man who was well enough to climb the mountain had come back up here today, and as it neared midday, they’d been working nonstop for the past six hours or so.
