It was not until the next day that the door opened again. Valir had gotten some sleep, but Kraghtol found no rest. His mind was readily supplying him with one scenario after the next, what would happen to them, and each was worse than the last. He was almost relieved when the red-clad dwarf was not accompanied by a group of executioners, even though the rational part of his mind knew that was completely exaggerated.
“The city council has judged you,” the dwarf stated in the common language without introduction. At least he didn’t sound particularly vile in doing so. Out of the corner of his eye, Kraghtol saw Valir getting ready to protest. Knowing him, he had spent the last day preparing choice words for this case.
“You, Dagna Emberforge, are found guilty of disrupting important city facilities. You have broken into a forbidden area despite its beingsealed off. But worst of all, as evidenced by your own secret workshop, you have defiled the traditions in an attempt to pose as a tinkerer or inventor. Considering your previous warnings, the council has deemed you an incorrigible troublemaker.”
Dagna gulped, and Kraghtol had to agree it didn’t sound good. He wasn’t surprised by the ‘previous warnings’ bit, either.
“However, since your parents pleaded for you and are considered honorable citizens, the council has decided on a milder punishment than originally planned. You are exiled from the city, but not for eternity. After merely ten years, you may return. The council would advise you to have learned your lesson by then and use your remaining hours to thank your parents.”
A set of conflicting emotions chased across her face until she pushed her chin forward in defiance.
“Fine! Perhaps elsewhere people are less narrow-minded than here.”
Despite her words, Kraghtol noticed her voice shaking. The orderkeeper didn’t dignify her with a reply. Instead, he turned towards Valir and Kraghtol.
“As for you, the council has decided not to decide about you. There are rumors of a green-skinned criminal from the alchemists returning from Winterstone, and we have sent a pigeon to their Guild of Peace. They will undoubtedly send someone to pick you up. Until that happens, or until we hear from them otherwise, you will stay here.”
That was not the worst outcome Kraghtol had tossed around in his mind, but close to it. He had a very good idea of who was going to come for them. But even Roderic Hawke aside, he would be judged forthe murder of a guild master —that he didn’t do!— and therefore, this was just a delayed death sentence. The local city council didn’t seem to know the full story yet, and he had no desire to tell them, but even without it, they had decided on the near worst potential outcome. He knew the orderkeepers of Winterstone would not hesitate.
“Can I at least take my stuff?” Dagna asked, oblivious to the harsh sentence they had given him.
“Yes, you may say your goodbyes and take your belongings, as long as you have left the city by the end of the day.”
With these words, the orderkeeper unlocked her cell and stepped back, allowing her to walk out. Dagna gave an apologetic look.
“Sorry. The whole thing might have been a bad idea in hindsight. I hope you have more luck with the longlegs.”
“I very much doubt that,” Valir replied dryly as she was rummaging through the chest to retrieve her things.
Suddenly, a thought flashed through Kraghtol’s mind.
“We will see. Don’t forget your lockbox, though,” he said and hoped she would get the hint. She did, and after only the slightest pause, she took the box and huffed.
“I’m not stupid, you know?”
He didn’t know where she would go, and whether they were ever going to meet again, but he had a strong feeling that it would be better than letting the unknown contents of the box fall into the hands of the guild officials. When she had gathered everything, the orderkeeper led her out of the room, only turning around in the doorframe one last time to mumble a “sorry” before disappearing into the corridor beyond. The door clicked closed behind her, leaving them alone again.
“I feel miserable. We — I — should have been the one to apologize, not her. If it weren’t for my stupid attempts at alchemy, she wouldn’t have been caught,” Kraghtol said and slumped down, all strength gone from his body.
“Yeah, possibly,” Valir said. “And she wouldn’t have gotten into her uncle’s workshop, either, finding out troll knows what, which was apparently very important to her. These stupid attempts at alchemy have achieved a lot, if you ask me. Especially considering that you had less than two quarters of training.”
His words were surprisingly compassionate, while his voice sounded amused and mocking. It got more serious, though, as he continued. “Instead of beating yourself up about Dagna, perhaps you should think about yourself for a change. I’m sure Dagna will be fine in her temporary exile. Ten years presumably isn’t that much for a dwarf, anyway. You, however, will have bigger problems. Mustached problems, which are probably riding down the road as we speak. I don’t think we have more than a week until he arrives. What’s your plan?”
Kraghtol stared at the solid iron bars separating them from the rest of the room and then at the solid metal door leading out of it. He knew there were more doors behind that, and more orderkeepers. And Valir was asking about hisplan…
“When Roderic Hawke arrives, you need to tell him you went after me to catch me. They’ll surely believe you, since you are a noble. You mustn’t let my —”
Valir cut him off with a gesture and a roll of his eyes that was clearlyaudiblein his voice.
“Oh, will you stop with your constant altruism already? I’ll be fine, and instead of worrying about a stupid lockbox or me, worry about yourself. At least that’s what I do.”
“You… worry about me?”
Kraghtol couldn’t see the other man’s face, but his voice sounded almost caught out when he answered. “Let’s just think if there’s something we can do about it. Last time, you got out of the city as well. I don’t see why you can’t pull off something like that again. Well, aside from the metal bars all around you.”
Even several hours of whispered pondering yielded no results. The rest of the Activator powder was unreachable in the chest beyond the metal bars, and even if they had access to it, neither Kraghtol nor Valir would know what to do with it. Any prospect of arguing with their captors or the orderkeepers of Winterstone to let them go was hopeless in itself, and there didn’t seem to be any way to break out of their cells. The sturdy metal bars didn’t move one centimeter even with all of Kraghtol’s brute strength.
They had no way of telling time but the change in lighting from the one window going out to the city caverns, but they spent about two days trying to come up with any idea, interrupted only by food being brought in and a few hours of uncomfortable sleep. Despite everything, Kraghtol felt bad for having brought Valir into this situation. Kraghtol could only imagine the trouble he would have with his family about this, at the very least, but the noble would hear nothing about that. Objectively, he was right. Whatever ire Valir might have provoked from his father by his actions, it couldn’t be worse than what awaited Kraghtol. Still, it felt important to him.
