Longing Ring

19

His father came home just as his mother pulled the blade back to slay J'role. The door opened and his mother froze, a thief caught in the act, not knowing what to do next.

Bevarden stood smiling at them, for a moment not realizing what was happening, seeing only his wife holding his son close.

When he saw the blade in her hand, his face blossomed into horror. Rushing forward, he wrestled her to the ground, knocking the knife from her hand.

She began screaming, crying for J'role's death. She clawed at Bevarden, tears streaming down her face.

Through the open door her shouts and screams carried out into the corridors of the kaer.

Within moments other people began to arrive, thinking a Horror might have invaded the kaer. They entered the room and saw the knife on the floor. Saw Bevarden pinning his wife down. Heard J'role's mother screaming for her son's death.

J'role backed into a corner. A woman from the kaer came over and picked him up, held him tight.

Charneale arrived, tall and imposing, and everyone stepped aside to let him pass. He studied J'role's parents as if from a great distance. Then he waved his hands, and in an instant J'role's mother fell unconscious. Startled, Bevarden turned to look at Charneale, fear weaving itself across his face.

"Your wife," the magician said dryly "is no longer herself is she?"

Bevarden only stared at J'role.

Subsisting on plants and insects, they traveled a few hours a day, enough to keep increasing the distance between them selves and Blood Wood, but slow enough to give themselves a chance to rest and heal. After five days the wounds had scabbed, the fevers had passed, and it looked as if no elves had followed them. With a clear sky above, they walked a half day south toward Throal, and then traveled another full day after that. Each time they topped a hill all they could see waiting ahead were more dry, rolling hills.

J'role never lost his desire to get the ring, but kept telling himself he no longer needed it.

It was the only way to resist the impulse to abandon the others and return to Blood Wood.

He also reminded himself that it was the dwarfs who built the stones for the city, and if the stones were the source of the magic, then the dwarfs might have the answer to rescuing the city. And his ultimate goal was, of course, to find the city.

"If they built it four to five hundred years ago, as the elf queen said, it would have been just before the Scourge began," Releana said. She spent more and more time talking about the mystery of the ring, chipping away at the ring's puzzle, trying to find the one crucial crack that would reveal all. She moved her hands the whole time, as if drawing elaborate diagrams in the air for future reference. “Let's go over it again. The ring makes you want to find this city …"

J'role nodded.

"Was it ever really there? I mean, were you seeing something from-I don't know, another plane? — or was it a city that used to be there, and you were seeing its ghost?"

J'role thought about it. The words he had spoken did not seem to paint a picture of a city the Horrors might have built, though of course he could not be sure. But he held up two fingers, indicating the latter possibility.

"Second … You were seeing a ghost. Then where did it go? Cities don't die. They don't haunt places. Also, you spoke to people, describing this city when you wore the ring?”

J'role nodded.

"But from what you've indicated to me, this city is tremendous. The Therans are the only other people who have achieved that scale of architecture and magic."

"Therans," Bevarden echoed to himself.

"And why has no one heard of the city? You said the ork thought the magician-

Mordom-knew something about it. But I've never heard of it. And neither have you.”

J 'role stopped, furious. He felt her taking away his hope. He grabbed Releana by the shoulder, and pointed at his eyes.

"No, no. You saw it. I believe you. But why does no one remember-"

He made the symbol for the elf queen.

"That's right. You said she remembered."

He nodded vigorously, still angry. Then he recalled that it was in holding the ring that the elf queen's memory of it suddenly returned. And it was only after wearing the ring that she had remembered the name of the city. Parlainth, she had said. He raised his hand, indicating a stop in the conversation, then shook his head.

"She didn't?"

He shook his head, then mimed putting the ring on, then nodded.

She said, "The ring made her remember."

He nodded.

"But it doesn't make sense that she wouldn't remember it before. If she helped make the ring …"

"Hide what you hold most dear," Bevarden said.

Releana and J'role stopped walking, but Bevarden continued placidly along, looking sometimes at the clouds above and sometimes at the flowers that struggled to crack the surface of the dirt.

Releana raised her hands to her head and rubbed her fingers against her temples. "Oh, my."

"They hid the city," Role thought.

"From the Horrors," Releana said. "They hid the city from the Horrors."

J'role felt the creature slide across his thoughts, but it said nothing.

"The entire city," Releana whispered. "And then Hey made everyone forget about it.

There may have been records of it. Maybe they used magic to wipe away all records of it."

The implications sent vertigo through J'role's body and mind.

"They removed all traces of themselves, not only moving their home somewhere else, perhaps to another plane, but even taking away all thoughts and memories. Not only would the Horrors be unable to find the city during the Scourge, but neither could they possess some person outside the city and find out that the city was hidden by reading the person's thoughts. Safe. Very safe."

"But what about the ring?" wondered J'role, and he formed his fingers into an O. their symbol for the ring.

Releana paced in a tight circle. "That's it!" she said excitedly. "That's the key. Maybe to get the magic to work there was one big, magical cost: they couldn't get back by them selves. They and the city were trapped wherever they are. Only someone on the outside can bring them back. But no one on the outside knows what happened. Doesn't even know about them, for reasons of security. If they told someone four hundred years ago,

'Come get us when the Horrors are gone,' the secret could have been exposed. So they had to come up with a subtler way of getting 'rescued' from their hiding place."

"The ring of longing," J'role thought.

"Whoever touches the ring wants to find the source of the longing. They'll work to solve the mystery, just like you did. And the ork. And the magician. It'll be slow going at first, but they'll work to do it."

J'role smiled. He was going to rescue the city.

Releana saw his smile and smiled back. "Much better," she said.

The happiness left J'role within a few hours. He kept his concerns to himself as they walked, his face a neutral mask. But inside his thoughts he asked the thing in his head,

"Am I leading you to the city? Is that why you want to help me find it?" Although the Scourge had ended and most of the Horrors had gone away, many of the creatures, like the one in J'role's thoughts, remained. Would they attempt to attack the city if it returned to the world?

The creature said nothing. J'role knew it did not matter. Would he have believed the thing no matter what it said?

And did it matter? If Horrors still roaming the world were to locate the city-Parlainth-

wouldn't the city have enough power to beat them back? After all, the people of Parlainth had successfully hidden themselves from the all out assault, not just a few monsters.

J’role comforted himself with that thought. Thinking any other way might make him want to give up searching for the city. And if he did that, the people of Parlainth would not be grateful to him for saving them, and they would not help him remove the creature from his thoughts. Then where would he be? He needed to move forward and hope or else the creature's prompting of suicide would take its toll.

A mist had settled over the land by the time J'role woke. A thin layer of water covered his skin, while an endless barrier of gray spread out in all directions. He got up and woke the others, and soon they were on their way, eager to get moving and warm up their bodies.

The mist dissipated as the sun came up. On they walked, a little further until they realized they were approaching the lip of a valley. Across a broad emptiness they saw land covered with green trees and grass. Bushes and plants dotted the ground where they walked.

When they reached the lip of the valley they were met by an astounding sight. The ground sloped down, rushing toward the base of the valley. Trees and grass covered the sides of the valley, but J'role was delighted to see that the greenery was not as dense and writhing with life as in Blood Wood.

At the center of the valley ran a chalk-blue river at least a mile across. Hovering above it was a thin layer of mist that coiled its way through the air like myriad wary snakes. To the right and to the left the river ran on, winding out of sight as the valley curved tightly in either direction.

'The Serpent," Releana said with awe. "It just keeps going. It goes on forever. That's what my mother told me. It just keeps going.

J'role could not fit such an image into his head. Instead he focused on the section of the river below him, and the sight was no less startling than the idea of an endless river.

Rising out of the river grew spires made of stone, grouped in tight clusters. The river's current crashed against the spires, washing around them in a thick spray on either side.

Just below the surface of the water J'role saw the base of the towers spread out, becoming wider, as if they led to underwater fortresses. Docked at one of the spires was a big ship with a huge, broad wheel made up of several dozen paddles at its rear. It seemed to J'role that the wheel must have something to do with how the ship moved, but he could not tell how.

The upper decks of the ship looked more like a large hill carved with dozens and dozens of caves, though the ship was- in fact — built of wood. No stairs led up to any of the doors, but ropes hung from countless vertical and horizontal poles growing out of the ship; it seemed that these were intended to provide access to the doors for people who felt comfortable climbing and swinging. The ship was painted bright blue and green, giving it a festive air. A word written in glyphs J'role could not understand was painted near the front of the ship.

"Look," said Releana, and J'role turned in the direction she pointed. Another ship, this one red, black, and gold, moved upriver toward the docked ship. The wheel at the ship's rear turned, and J'role realized that the paddles on the wheels pushed the ship forward, using the water as a momentary brace. Thick clouds of smoke poured from chimneys scattered without any apparent pattern or design across the top of the ship.

J'role saw no sign of anyone on board the new ships but looking back at the first ship, he noticed a sudden flurry of activity. A dozen thin people swarmed out from the spire where the ship was docked. The sun caught their green- scaled skin and bright yellow hats and bright red jerkins. From the water came more of the creatures. They bobbed up to the surface of the water, grabbed the ends of ropes hanging into the river from the ship's poles, and rushed up them like squirrels scaling trees. Thin tails swished behind them. They swung in wide arcs on the ropes, then used their tails to catch other ropes to swing further along the ship.

Now J'role could see reptilian sailors also scampering about on the second ship as well.

Large, long black tubes appeared from the windows, all pointed toward the first ship.

Sailors were all over the roofs and walls and ropes of both ships now, all jumping up and down and waving swords and shouting at one another.

The sailors of the docked ship pulled in the ropes that tethered their vessel to the spire.

The paddle wheel began to turn, and smoke poured out of the ship's randomly placed stacks.

Suddenly the red, black, and gold ship's black tubes began to billow red flames and black smoke. The crack of thunder rolled out across the river and echoed along the valley.

Huge balls of fire rushed through the air toward the: blue and green ship, but then fell short and crashed into the water. Giant plumes of steam rose into the air like illusory pillars.

A tremendous cry went up from the sailors on-the blue and green ship. Their vessel banked right, revealing an array of black tubes just like the one-on the attacking ship. The smoke poured out faster from the ship's chimneys as the vessel picked up speed, traveling a path that kept the fire cannons pointed at the red, black, and gold ship's bow, which was mounted with few fire-cannons. The red, black, and gold ship turned wide, trying to escape the barrage of fireballs that would certainly be coming …

But too late. The blue and green ship cut loose volley of shots that ripped through the air, half finding their target as the distance between the ships continued to close. Six fireballs ripped into the red, black, and gold's upper decks, with two more crashing into the ship just above the water line. Another cry went up from the sailors on the blue and green vessel.

Fires erupted on the struck ship, and J'role saw one of the sailors raise his hands to cast a spell. The incantation brought a huge wave of water rising up from the river and splashing down over some of the flames.

The fires spread as the ship continued its turning. Coming about, it fired three more small volleys, simply trying to keep the blue and green ship at bay. Soon it had turned completely around to beat a retreat downriver, even as its sailors continued to combat the flames.

J'role thought the blue and green ship might pursue, but instead it turned and headed back for the spire where it had been docked.

Releana and J'role looked at each at first with surprise, and then with broad smiles. "I never heard about anything like this before." said Releana.

J 'role had. His father had told the people in the kaer about the t’skrang years and years ago. But J'role knew so little that he didn't bother trying to mime it out for Releana.

"Ah. Some of it is still here. What will become. .?" his father said, and then fell into silence.

Releana looked quizzically from Bevarden to J'role, then shrugged. "if we're going to get across the Serpent," she said, "we'd better find out who those sailors are because I don't see how we're going to do it without their help."

J'role tugged on her sleeve. When he had her attention, he pointed at each of them and then across the river.

"Yes. We have to. . look." She pointed downriver. It took J'role a moment, but then he saw. Shrouded behind a white mist in the distance was a huge range of mountains. "That must be where the kingdom of Throal is. I can't imagine there being a bigger mountain range in the world." Her voice became excited as she spoke of the mountains. And looking at them, J'role could understand why. They were huge, and the way they were wrapped in mist seemed to promise something magical. All that was visible of the mountains were vague, hazy blue shapes. The peaks rose into the clouds and out of sight, seeming to ascend all the way up to wherever the sky ended-perhaps touching the stars themselves.

The dwarven Kingdom of Throal.

J'role did not know any longer which mattered more. Rescuing Parlainth or reaching the mountain kingdom across the Serpent.

I could do both, he thought, and smiled.

Laughing, Releana said, "Grim is happy again. I'm going to have to get him another name."

J'role grinned back. Another day, a day only two weeks ago, he would have become angry. Her teasing would have made him afraid, and his fear would have aroused the need to stay separate and become indignant. But not now.

"Son," his father said abruptly, "where is your mother?" Bevarden looked around as if she might just have wandered off for a moment.

An echo of loneliness passed through J'role's heart, and he saw the smile quickly leave the face of his companion. Releana had asked about his mother the other day, and he had communicated that she was dead.

He took his father's hand in his, and felt it shaking. A tremor of fear crawled up his own flesh, and he wondered how much of his life would be taken up sharing the loss of his mother with his father. Grim his name would remain for some time.

The valley's side was steep in spots, but many trees grew from the sloped ground. They traveled with relative ease by sliding down from one tree to the next. Bevarden was often afraid to rush down to the next tree, but Releana gently coaxed him down the slope.

J'role knew he could have used the magic to move with greater ease. It would surely be easier to climb down a slope than to climb up a vertical pit with writhing roots. But he knew the magic would draw him away from the others. And even in his silence, he enjoyed being with them.

Soon the work of getting down the hill had him sweating and breathing faster. Focusing his mind on getting from tree to tree, he turned the work into a game. With the thorn man's magic spear held at his side, J'role raced down to the next tree with Releana to prepare to catch Bevarden. Soon they were nearly slamming into the trees in their efforts.

Releana laughed out loud; J'role, for fear of- releasing the creature, did not, but smiled broadly. Once more his despairing thoughts left him, shunted out by physical concerns, and he remembered that back in his village he used run to feel better.

Motion was his ever-present friend.

After half an hour the slope of the valley became gentle. Slowing their pace, both J'role and Releana began to limp, the effects of their wounds taking a toll after their spirited exertions.

From beyond the trees they heard the continuous running of the river. They walked on for another twenty minutes, the water getting louder, becoming something just under a roar.

Then J'role heard voices in the distance. He raised his hand for the group to stop. Releana did so, taking Bevarden's hand to keep him calm in the face of whatever would happen next.