Conversations with the old man were really draining his patience fast, but there was one more question he had to ask, mainly because he didn’t know anyone else hecouldask it.
“But since you were obviously watching me. What did I do wrong? Why couldn’t I open the metal seal?”
That seemed to amuse the old man even more, and he cackled for a good ten seconds before giving a coherent answer.
“A seal is easy. Like a contract, but only one-sided. Well, everything is like a contract, if you think about it that way, is it not? After all, you bind your will — I digress! Only one side, easy to break, but nearly impossible to break.”
“How can it be both easy and nearly impossible?” Kraghtol asked in confusion and looked to Valir for help, who didn’t look wiser than him.
“It’s not easy for everyone, is it? You couldn’t have broken that seal. Not easily. Because of who you are. Because you don’tresonate. If youdo — resonate like a string — you could shatter it like glass. Isn’t that a funny thought? The metal within shattered like the glass without. But your Elven friend, she couldn’t have done it at all!”
Kraghtol didn’t understand half of what the madman was spewing at him and decided to lay the topic to rest as he felt the onset of a mild headache. He, too, took his belongings from the chest before turning towards the door.
“We’re going to leave now. Is it safe outside?”
“Is it ever? Perhaps it’s safer if you stay here forever, or until you die at least. But yes, the dwarves are not watching, as they should. Not now. They are dreaming, all of them, are they not?”
“You sent them to sleep? All of them? With alchemy?” Valir asked.
“Oh, yes, yes. All of them. Do not worry. They will wake. But not now. Dreams are hard to escape from sometimes, are they not?”
His eyes were piercing Kraghtol now, and he shuddered in discomfort.
“We’re leaving. Come on, Valir.”
“Ah, ha-ha, but wait! How can you leave not knowing where to go? Even if you leave, you’ll be followed. The order must be kept, isn’t that right?”
Kraghtol grimaced, but the old man was painfully right. He didn’t know where to go, and Hawke would hardly stop when he realized they had escaped the city.
“Alright. Do you know somewhere we can hide?”
Again, the madman chuckled before answering. “No. I can’t know. But I know of something you are missing. There lies a secret, at theheart. The heart of the Shifting Swamp, which is also a different heart. Forgotten and life-changing. You are ready to see it now, are you not?”
“The Shifting Swamp? You mean like the oracle?” Valir asked. His voice sounded skeptical, but suddenly alert. He explained when he picked up Kraghtol’s gaze.
“It’s a folktale from Greylune. There is supposed to be an all-knowing oracle in the middle of the swamp, handing out life-changing secrets like candy and knowing the answer to all questions.”
“Yes, yes. Folktale. Unreliable. Children’s play. But perhaps not without truth? You decide. I won’t follow. Mind the Mandrakes, though. They are friendly, are they not?”
“Let’s get out of the city first, and worry about the rest later,” said Kraghtol. “Thank you, … nameless old man.”
True to his word, his first patient didn’t follow them as they passed the sleeping orderkeepers out into the city of stone and metal. Not wanting to stress their luck any more, they opted to leave immediately, using the Bronzerun River to avoid any guards at the gate. Even though it was high spring now, the water felt icy, and when they finally emerged a few hundred meters downstream of the cavern entrance on the southern bank, both of them were shivering. Still, neither of them wanted to stop, and only when the sun was already high above theground did they allow themselves a moment of rest, hiding in a grove of birch trees near the road.
“So, now that you are a fugitive — again — what are you going to do? Surely not venture into the Shifting Swamp?” Valir asked while carefully wiping any residual dampness from his instrument. Since it was made from metal, Kraghtol saw the chance it could actually have survived the bath in the river, although Valir would have to remove rust. Most of his own possessions weren’t susceptible to water damage, except for the bag of Activator. Luckily, the bag was waterproof enough for the powder to stay dry.
“I’m not sure,” he answered when Valir looked at him expectantly. “What is it about that swamp? Is it dangerous?”
Given the name, it was a stupid question, and Valir rolled his eyes. “Of course, how could I expect you to havemapsin Mistpine? The Shifting Swamp is a vast marsh right in the center of Wardenreach. It begins a good few hundred kilometers south of Winterstone and stretches all the way south almost until Greylune. It’s treacherous and difficult to traverse, forcing travelers from Greylune to Winterstone to take huge detours either to the west or to the east, passing Crossroads. And by ‘difficult to traverse’, I’m referring to the outskirts. It gets worse the further you venture inwards, and nobody — oh, no. You’re not seriously considering going there, are you? By the tusk, the oracle is a myth!”
Kraghtol’s eyes were gleaming, and his mind was racing so much he even ignored the detested expression. “That may be so. Although I would have more than a few questions I’d like to ask an all-knowing oracle, if I’m being honest. But think about it. Roderic Hawke willfollow us, probably on horseback. He will catch us in a matter of weeks, days if we stick to the roads. Our only chance is to go where his horses won’t be of much use.”
“That’s just suicide with mosquitoes on top. Yes, horses won’t help him much, but that doesn’t matter if you end up drowning yourself. And why ‘us’ in the first place? When did I agree to venture into the perilous mud with you?!”
That hurt badly, and Kraghtol didn’t understand why. He had, of course, another reason he wanted to take the risk. Everything clicked together, and he suspected — no, heknewwhat he was going to find in the middle of the swamp. It had been this oracle that had spoken to him in his dreams. He had barely scratched the surface of alchemy, and he wanted to learn more. But ‘I dreamed of this swamp’ didn’t make for a very good reason if he didn’t want to sound as crazy as the gnarly old man.
Still, he hadn’t even considered the possibility that Valir wouldn’t want to come with him. And although he could hardly imagine any scenario in which the noble would be helpful instead of a further obligation in the wilderness, it filled him with an inexplicable sadness to hear those words.
“I… I thought you might want to…” his tongue started and now waited for his brain to fill in the blanks. It didn’t, so after a while, he just closed his mouth again.
