Chapter Four - The Hive, Part Two
By Peeling

Reprinted with permission.
Added 08/03/2002.

The barroom was packed when they came back downstairs; raised voices drowning out the lashing rain and all but the loudest claps of thunder, each of which raised a cheer from the throng. Rousing music danced from the strings and flutes of an impromptu band of musicians near the centre of the floor, accompanied by at least three versions of a popular and uniformly scandalous ditty from a dozen or more untrained but enthusiastic throats.

Thomas led, threading his way between clumps of laughing, drunken warriors and – from long experience – giving the equally noisy knots of drunken mages a wide berth. Tanya followed, drawing more than one appreciative glance and even a few whistles from those drunk enough to miss Choth wading along behind her, looking more like a mountain than ever with his head in the clouds of pipe-smoke hugging the ceiling.

They found Tokah holding court in the same corner as they'd left him, apparently engaged in some kind of drinking contest with a man scarcely smaller than Choth himself. The expressions of the onlookers ranged from awestruck to appalled, and indeed the contents of the table between the contestants were an impressive sight.

Tokah's opponent wore an expression of glazed dismay as he watched the gnarled old mage throw back another half-tankard – of spirits, judging by the forest of bottles – and grin as only Tumeroks can as he dropped the empty jar back onto the table.

The enormous man slowly, slowly looked down at his own full tankard. There was a hushed pause around the table. The quiet propagated out through the room until almost everyone was straining over one another to see what would happen next. The man reached out one huge, wavering hand – and toppled to the floor with a crash to rival the thunder outside.

A huge cheer went up, which Tokah stood to acknowledge, bowing and raising his hands modestly, soaking up the applause. Behind Tokah several spectators groaned and tossed money onto the table disgustedly. Behind Choth a tremendous flatulent explosion sent a plume of orange flame roof-wards from within a cluster of wizards, one of whom danced around cursing, flapping at his burning beard while the others roared with laughter and threw beer at him.

"How's business?" shouted Thomas to Tokah as he swept a pile of gold coins into an already bulging pouch.

"Fair to middling. That last one had some staying power but the rest – pffft."

"You're going to have to teach me how to do that someday."

"And divide the wealth of the world between two when I could keep it for myself? I haven't had THAT much to drink, my friend. Sit down, if you can find room."

For a moment the unconscious giant posed something of an obstacle, until Choth picked him up and pushed him through a nearby window held open by laughing revellers. The path to the bar being well and truly blocked, the empty bottles followed. Soon the four of them faced one another across a clear table. Thomas waved a hand and muttered under his breath, and the background noise fell to a muffled undertone.

"Where on Dereth did all these come from?" he demanded, gesturing at the heaving crowd.

"Arwic is a busy place, grandfather," said Tanya. "The drudges press hard upon us here, seeking to expand from their stronghold in Rithwic, but there are great rewards for those willing to stand and fight. The very ground bleeds treasure – a great city must once have stood on this very spot."

"Indeed!" said Thomas, showing interest for the first time. "A city. Does any of it remain standing?"

"Some – but a good distance away" replied Choth. "Nothing for a half-mile radius."

"Some say it was part of the Cataclysm" broke in Tokah. "Others say this ground has always been cursed, and that disaster will befall any who settle here."

"It doesn't seem to be putting many off."

Tanya shook her head.

"These are hunters; warriors, not settlers. Their coin attracts some traders, and pays the upkeep on this inn, but nobody will put down roots here. No crops will grow, and animals that eat the grass within the old city walls sicken and do not bear young. Still," she said, shrugging. "Gold is gold, and of that there is plenty."

They drank in silence for a while, lost in their own thoughts.

"So, Thomas," said Tokah eventually. "You mentioned some items of interest?"

Thomas's face brightened, and he swept his backpack up onto the table.

"Yes, yes! It has been a most profitable journey – even if," he continued hurriedly as Tanya raised her eyebrows at him, "the destination was somewhat lacking." He undid the buckles and extracted a bundle of tattered papers. "These I found in – of all places! – the privy at a tavern I visited on the way. The owner claimed to have exhausted more conventional sources of paper and had found these stuffed under one of his mattresses."

The other three leaned back slightly.

"Oh, don't be stupid," said Thomas impatiently. "They're perfectly clean. And these," he continued, carefully pulling out three oddly shaped linen packages, "I found in the ruins of some kind of cathedral just south of the plateau ridge, a good few miles north of here." He unwrapped one of the packages and lifted out a muddy-coloured egg-shaped crystal about the size of his fist. It was bound across the widest point by a band of dull silvery metal, heavily scuffed and scratched, with two crude star-shapes engraved on opposite sides. He held it up to the light, and the others could see the crystal was riddled with flaws and cloudy patches.

"It's… very nice," said Tanya. Choth raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Ha! You have no idea." Thomas said, laying the carbuncle to one side and unwrapping the second package. This contained another lump of the same dull metal, fashioned into a rough zigzag shape. It too had seen better days, and had similar star-shaped engravings, this time at either end. Thomas placed it on the table with a solid clunk – it was obviously very heavy. Tokah picked it up, hefted it, and turned it over in his hands.

"I can feel no attunement to magic," he said, "and it is hardly decorative. What purpose did it serve?"

Thomas held up a finger and went about unwrapping the last parcel. This contained a simple solid bracelet, of the same material and bearing the same artless crossed scratches as the other two objects. Tanya had picked up the gemstone and was peering into it without much enthusiasm, absently rubbing her thumbs over the engravings.

"Isn't it fascinating?" Thomas enthused. "I have seen no other artefacts of this sort before – and I have studied the lore of this land extensively, believe me! It is clearly not of Empyrean origin; even their oldest known works are of surpassing beauty and elegance. It is not Lugian either, despite it's crudity."

Tanya covered her mouth and avoided looking at Choth.

"Nor is it Tumerok – or so I believe. Which is why this chance encounter is so fortuitous, Tokah. Have you seen anything of this ilk before?"

"I do not think so. But…" he hesitated. "Perhaps they are not ritualistic at all, despite where you found them. They may simply be tools, or possibly models of tools."

Thomas frowned.

"What sort of tools?"

Tokah shrugged and put the zigzag shape down.

"Who knows? An aid to spell casting, perhaps. Or to alchemy. They may be blanks – unfinished. Or templates for higher-quality jewellery. It's impossible to say – but they ARE curious. What is it, child?"

Tanya was holding the crystal up to the light between finger and thumb and squinting in puzzlement.

"I don't know. I almost think I can see something. If I turn it just right... there! It looks like… a doorway? Damn. Lost it again." She stood up to bring the crystal closer to the lantern hanging over the table. "Come on…" She leaned closer still, putting a hand on the table to balance herself.

On the zigzag metal shape.

White.

Thomas groggily picked himself up. Wet – his face was wet. With a lurch of horror he wiped a hand across his brow and stared at it.

Just water, but his vision was strange; a bright purple streak crossing everything he looked at. Wait a minute: water? Where from? He looked around – it was everywhere, bouncing off the table where he'd been sitting, pooling on the floor, soaking into his clothes.

"I just put these on, too," he mumbled absently. "Tanya? Why is it raining in here?" His voice sounded strangely muffled and quiet. "Tanya?" He looked up, blinking into the rain. Most of the roof of the tavern was gone. Sounds began to filter through his deafness: screams and crying, the groan of unsupported timber giving way.

Over to his right a mound of broken wood shifted and toppled, revealing Choth staggering to his feet. He was bleeding heavily from the neck but his sword was already in his hand. Tokah – Thomas looked hurriedly away from what remained of Tokah. Of Tanya there was no sign.

"Choth! Where were you attuned?" Thomas picked his way through the debris to the lugian's side.

"There is a hunting-stone to the south – we were both tied there. I do not know where Tokah is."

Thomas looked back at the table – miraculously undamaged in the centre of devastation. Upon it were the three objects, lying cold and inert in the downpour. He began hastily bundling them up in their linen wrappings. A massive grey hand spun him around.

"Are you insane, wizard?" snarled Choth. "Look at what those things have done – you will kill us all!"

Thomas shook his head impatiently.

"I carried them here through storms as bad as this and worse. If it were that simple I'd never have made it here alive! We might need them if something has happened to Tanya."

"Such as what?"

"I don't know! There was magic involved – I don't know what kind – can't you FEEL it?"

Choth nodded. The air felt greasy and metallic, as after a prolonged magical battle – only ten times stronger. He released Thomas, who immediately began shoving the wrapped objects back into his satchel.

"We cannot risk leaving them here, for someone else to pick up. They must be studied, made safe. But first we must find Tanya. Take me to the hunting-stone."

The rain hadn't slackened in the slightest by the time they made it outside. Thomas flinched and even Choth ducked slightly as lightning flickered from cloud to cloud, but it did not strike. Thomas grinned lopsidedly.

"It's not the same carrying a firework on your back once you know it's a firework."

Choth didn't reply, and Thomas's grin died.

"She means a great deal to me, too," he said. "Come, let's find her."

Choth led the way, taking the road to the south. The ground was muddy and treacherous, and little could be seen beyond a few feet ahead. Other people passed them: hunters from the tavern returning from the stone. Some were laughing and joking, others cursing. It seemed to take forever. Suddenly a diminutive figure materialised out of the rain in front of them.

"Tanya!" shouted Thomas, running forward through the slush.

"No." came the gravely reply. "It is I, Tokah. Is Tanya not with you?"

"No, she was tied to the hunting stone – where is she?" Thomas's voice cracked.

"I do not know – many people appeared alongside me, but she was not among them. I waited until the last before leaving."

The three stood in the rain, staring at one another.

"What are we going to do?" cried Thomas helplessly.

"There is nothing we can do now," replied Choth flatly. "We need to find shelter."

Thomas looked at him beseechingly, about to argue, but quailed when he saw the expression on the lugian's face. The great chisel-shaped sword was back in its strapping, but there was murder pent up behind his eyes.

"She must be alive; if she had died she would be here…" Thomas cringed as Choth loomed over him.

"You know my name, old man – the whole of my name – and you presume to tell me what can and cannot be?" The tone was soft, but oh, there was bared steel behind it. Thomas looked down miserably, water trickling down his face and beard. Not all of it was rain. Choth turned to Tokah.

"There is a place near here; an old mine. It will suffice until the storm passes."

"Are there not banderlings infesting that place? I seem to recall..."

"There used to be," said Choth.

"Ah. Quite. Lead on, then." Choth was already walking away. Tokah hurried over to Thomas and put one clawed arm around him.

"Come, my old friend, before we drown."

Thomas looked at him with haunted eyes.

"What have I done, Auri Tokah? What have I done to my little girl?"

"You have done nothing, and no doubt all will be well, presently. You still have the artifacts?"

Thomas nodded dumbly.

"Then we shall study them, and learn their secrets. We will find your granddaughter, Thomas, however long it takes."

At Tokah's gentle urging, Thomas began to walk, and the two of them splashed after Choth's receding bulk. The rain fell ever harder; thunder bellowed, and lightning arced across the sky.

White.

Black.

White.