Rich Wulf - Rise of the Seventh Moon

“No,” Omax said bluntly. “The Legacy can do great good as well as great harm. You saw as much in Skyway.”

“I saw no such thing,” Dalan said. “I only saw Tristam abort a catastrophe that the Legacy itself created. Many people still died up there today. Without the Legacy, none of that would have happened.”

“And without the Mourning Dawn , we would never have stopped it,” Zed said. “What if we did destroy the airship, just to spite Zamiel? What would that accomplish? Zamiel’s not even mortal. He has nothing but time to find another way to rebuild the Legacy.”

“Perhaps not within our lifetimes,” Dalan said. “If the Legacy is irrevocably destroyed, Zamiel will have no further reason to pursue us outside of simple revenge.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this, Dalan,” Zed said, incredulous. “We can’t destroy our ship.”

“ My ship, Arthen,” Dalan corrected. “I shall do what I like with it in the end, but I am soliciting your opinions lest I do something foolish.”

“Well this idea is pretty foolish,” Zed snapped.

“Is it?” Dalan said. “Try to remember that if Tristam had destroyed the Dying Sun instead of repairing her that none of this would have ever happened.”

“The Mourning Dawn is connected to a source of incredible power,” Omax said. “That power can accomplish great good or great evil. You would destroy something because you fear its evil rather than protect it to ensure its good?”

“I would,” Dalan said.

“And what about me?” Omax said tersely. “I was built to be a killer. Would you destroy me as well?”

“That’s entirely different, Omax,” Dalan said.

“I do not see how,” the warforged said, shaking his head sadly

“Well, I’ll say this, Dalan,” Zed said. “It’s your ship to do with as you like. Just let me know when you plan to try and destroy her, because I don’t want to be anywhere nearby when Aeven finds out what you’re planning.”

Dalan sighed. “Do not misunderstand me, Arthen,” he said. “I do not savor the idea of destroying Karia Naille . That airship is more of a home to me than Wroat or Metrol ever were. I have treasured my time among her crew despite the fact that most of you despise me. The fact remains that she can destroy entire cities.” He swept one arm toward a distant tower that had fallen when the island began to shift. “We have no idea how powerful Zamiel is. If he finds us, we may have no hope of stopping him from taking what he desires. If we destroy the Legacy, we may hamper his plans indefinitely.”

“We may,” Zed said. “I don’t think we should take that kind of risk on a maybe.”

Dalan glowered at Zed. The inquisitive met his gaze squarely.

“And I was still excited that we’d saved the city,” Ijaac said glumly. “You lot have a way of ruining a dwarf’s good mood.”

“I have decided on nothing,” Dalan said. “With luck, Tristam may have a way to separate the Legacy from the ship’s core without harm, or Norra may have discovered something important. I merely try to prepare for the worst.”

They strode up the steps of Morgrave University and passed through the gates into a large courtyard. Small groups of students stood here and there amid the trees. All of them were talking anxiously among one another and watching the sky. Zed felt as if the heavy stone walls were watching him, pressing down around him. The ancient campus resonated an aura of importance. The courtyard was thick with the hushed silence that fills all houses of learning, even more muted today following the terrifying sights that had filled the sky.

“Remember, none of these people have any idea what just happened up there,” Dalan said as they continued. “Try to appear as confused and terrified as they are.”

Zed chuckled. That should be easy enough to pull off. After all that they had been through, he felt as confused and terrified as anybody else here.

As they approached the main library, a guard in a slate gray uniform approached them with one outstretched hand. He looked at Omax suspiciously, then turned to Dalan.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” he said. “The campus is closed to all visitors at the moment.”

“Closed?” Dalan asked, surprised.

The guard looked up, then back at Dalan. “Everyone has been advised to remain indoors,” the guard said.

“They’re not indoors,” Dalan said, gesturing at the students.

“They’re stupid, rebellious children,” the guard said, sighing. “No reasoning with them. Seriously, it’s not safe in the streets and I can’t let you in. Go back wherever you came from.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Dalan replied, looking nervously at the sky. “We arrived just as this strange crisis began, and have nowhere else to stay. We are guests of the university. You can’t possibly turn us back out into the street with rubble falling from the sky.”

Zed looked at Dalan blankly, wondering what the man was planning.

The guard folded his arms and gave Dalan a sidelong look. “I wasn’t aware of any arriving guests,” he said.

Dalan looked at Zed insistently. “Did you remember to post ahead and tell them when we’d be here?”

Zed looked at Dalan.

Dalan sighed. “Did you?” he asked.

“What kind of question is that?” Zed snapped. He enjoyed the slightly annoyed look in Dalan’s eyes as he wondered if the inquisitive would play along. “Of course I did. I have the receipt here somewhere.” He began digging in the pockets of his coat.

“That shouldn’t be necessary, Zed,” Dalan said with a chuckle. He smiled and looked at the guard again. “There you have it. There’s no problem on our end. We told Master Ghein well in advance of our arrival.”

“Ghein?” the guard asked, looking mildly revolted. “Petra Ghein?”

Dalan nodded. “We had arranged with Master Ghein to conduct a series of lectures. Our appointment has been in place for months.”

“That explains it,” the guard said, rolling his eyes briefly. “Listen, Master Ghein isn’t exactly the keenest member of the faculty. If you wished to arrange a lecture, you really should have contacted one of the-”

“He seemed keen enough when I spoke to him,” Dalan interrupted, puffing out his chest as if the guard had personally insulted him. “He informed me that the headmasters were most eager to hear what the Wayfinder had to say. If you feel differently, then perhaps we should take it up with your supervisors.”

“Listen, I never said …” The guard blinked. “Who is the Wayfinder?”

“Wayfinder Ijaac Bruenhail,” Dalan said, gesturing at Ijaac. The dwarf bowed, beaming proudly. “Famous archaeologist and explorer. One of the few men living to visit the Frostfell and return.”

The guard looked at Ijaac blankly.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of him,” Dalan said.

“You saying you’ve never heard of me, boy?” Ijaac repeated dangerously. “I don’t have to take this kind of abuse. I’m a public figure! I’d wager I’m in a few of the textbooks these rugrats are carrying!” He stepped toward the guard, one hand tightening on the haft of his morningstar.

The guard glanced around the courtyard, looking for anyone else who could get him out of this. “My apologies, Master Bruenhail,” he said softly, hoping not to draw attention from any of the students. “Please don’t make a scene. I don’t know who made the mistake, but perhaps you should take it up with Master Ghein. I’m sure he can resolve everything.”

“Ah!” Dalan brightened. He placed one hand on Ijaac’s shoulder, pulling the dwarf back a step. “At last we make some progress. And where can we find Master Ghein?”