Jeff Crook - The Rose and the Skull

"If Uhoh was there, they've already found him and are long gone by now. All you'll find is a dead body, if anything," Alya said. "We've got more important things to do. That includes you, Valian."

"Draconians on Sancrist Isle aren't important to you?" Jessica asked in astonishment.

"Not particularly," Alya said. "What're a few draconians? Why does it matter? Besides, I'm still not convinced that there are any draconians."

"Then you are a fool," Valian said to her.

"I'd watch what I said, Sir Knight. I outrank you," Alya returned. Valian turned away. He looked at Jessica, but in his anger, his eyes seemed to bore straight through her, without even seeing.

"There are steps here," Nalvarre noted. Curious at the discovery, Waterstone looked over the edge of the precipice.

"Uhoh was Gunthar's favorite," Jessica began hesitantly as a thought occurred to her. "We have to at least find out why the draconians were hunting him." Her eyes pleading, she turned to Alya. "And if there's any chance he's still alive, we can't leave him to their mercy."

Alya glowered without saying anything.

"I'm going down there," Nalvarre said.

"Very well," Alya snapped.

Valian eased himself onto the first step, then bent down to examine the stonework. After a few moment, he announced, "These steps weren't cut by gully dwarves. They are much much older than that."

"An elf's opinion of stonework, " the dwarf snorted.

"If you don't believe me," Valian said, "come take a look yourself."

With a dour expression, Waterstone reluctantly examined the steps. He leaned back and scratched his head. "Reorx's bones! I'd be a kender's uncle if I can tell you who did cut these steps. They're as old as these hills."

"Millisant can't go with us," Nalvarre said. "We daren't carry her down these steps. They are very narrow."

"She'll have to stay with Waterstone," Jessica said.

"But I'm coming with you!" he protested.

"I need you to go back to Isherwood and keep an eye on things. You can take Millisant with you," Jessica said. "Take care of her, and make sure her wounds heal."

"Nursemaid to a dog. My grandfather is turning over in his cairn, to think a Waterstone playing nursemaid to a dog," the dwarf scowled.

In the end, it seemed Millisant was no more enthusiastic about being left with the dwarf than he was about being left with her. She whined, howled, and barked when Jessica and Nalvarre left her behind on the cliff. Waterstone watched them out of sight, then gradually led Millisant away from the cliff's edge.

With a wall at one shoulder and a sheer drop at the other, the slippery footing provided by the crumbling steps made things touch and go almost the whole way down. The stair wound along the uneven face of the rock, entering cracks and washes where the action of the infrequent rain had weathered the steps almost completely away. Eventually, everyone reached the base of the cliff, and not without many a sigh of relief. Near the stairs' foot lay the grisly remains of those who'd not been so careful in their climb.

After a brief rest, the four set out across the scrub tablelands toward Town. In his eagerness to discover the fate of his former guests, Nalvarre took the lead in trudging across the dusty plains. The others followed behind, and they were thankful that they didn't have to cross this region during the heat of summer. The late autumn sun seemed like a hot eye glaring down at them, sucking the strength from their limbs and the breath from their lungs. The alkali dust kicked up by their passing feet turned to clay in their mouths and caked around their eyes, giving their faces a ghoulish gray tone except where it cracked around eyes and mouths, showing pink flesh beneath. It chafed beneath chain mail and caused the joints of their armor to creak and stick.

In the heat of midday, they stumbled into Town. A hot rising wind blew dust in swirls and eddies around the mounds to collect like snow in drifts in the lee of ancient stone walls. As they wandered through the empty village, they saw no signs of life other than evidence of a recent and sudden abandonment. They made their way to the still-burning mound, reaching it as the last embers of fire sent thin tendrils of smoke snaking along the wind. Nalvarre stopped to examine a pair of well-worn shoes lying in the middle of a broad way that might have served as a street. Valian and Jessica investigated the surrounding mounds, finding them all strangely empty. Meanwhile, Alya found a nice shady spot beneath an ancient wall and sat down. She pulled off her boots and emptied them of the morning's accumulation of sand and gravel. She checked her wineskin and found it uncomfortably flat. They hadn't filled their skins since the night before, and every water hole they'd passed in this miserable desert was undrinkable.

"We can't stay here long," Alya shouted to Jessica and Valian. "We'll have to head back before we run out of water." Valian nodded and continued his investigation.

Alya leaned back and closed her eyes. The shade provided by the wall was a blessing. She allowed herself a sip of tepid water and held it in her mouth to wet her parched lips and tongue. It wasn't so much the heat in this desert as the thick alkali dust. It sucked the moisture from everything it touched. She swallowed the sip of water, then opened her eyes to check on Valian, Jessica, and the priest.

Standing directly over her were three squat gray ghoulish-looking creatures. They'd appeared as silently as ghosts. They eyed her waterskin with obvious longing, smacking their thick, leathery lips. Alya leaped to her feet and drew her sword, but the three creatures seemed not to notice the weapon. One reached a grubby gray hand tentatively toward the skin dangling from her belt.

"Touch it and you'll draw back a stump," she warned.

"Me Highbulp Mommamose I," the creature croaked. "This my Town. You pay tax, one drink water."

"If you are the Highbulp, you can get your own water," Alya said.

"Water in well," the Highbulp sighed.

"A well! Where?" Alya demanded.

The Highbulp pointed at the burned-out collapsed mound. Just beside it stood a low circular wall of crumbling blackened stones and a few bits of charred sticks. "Well deep. Fire burn bucket. No reach water now," the Highbulp croaked. Alya crossed to the well and, shading her eyes, looked over the lip of stone. In the darkness below, she saw a faint glimmer of a reflection, and a cool wet scent wafted up the stone shaft, promising water.

"I don't suppose you have a rope," Alya said as she scratched her head and looked around, trying to figure out some way to get to the water.

The Highbulp nodded and dug into the sack dangling by a strap from her shoulder. In moments, she produced a foot-long piece of rotting cotton twine and handed it to Alya.

"Something a bit longer," she said absently. "Valian! Jessica!" she shouted, seeing the two Knights and the priest exiting a distant mound. Catching sight of the squat creatures beside Alya, they hurried over.

"Have you seen any rope?" Alya called as they neared.

"Is this… is one of these Uhoh?" Valian asked. Alya shrugged.

At the sound of that name, the three gully dwarves cringed away from the Knights. They seemed almost ready to forget their thirst and run away.

"We are looking for Uhoh Ragnap," Jessica smiled, trying to calm the gully dwarves' fears. "Have you seen him?"

The smallest of the three dust-coated gully dwarves burst into wails of lamentation. Tears tracked down her face, forming little mudballs, which clung to her cheeks.

"Slagd take Uhoh!" she yammered.

"Slagd?" Alya asked.

"Draconians," Nalvarre said. He knelt beside the weeping gully dwarf. "Glabella? It's me, Nalvarre."

She blinked at him for a moment, sniffling, then threw her arms around his neck and renewed her sobs. The third gully dwarf joined them, adding his tears to the reunion.