The homecoming stonecrus.., p.19
The Homecoming (Stonecrusher Legacy Book 3), page 19
“Will I be able to kick Waldorf’s butt?” I ask partially in jest and partially because boys always compete.
The crowd chuckles, which is my hope. This conversation is getting too serious.
“Honestly? If you’re not trying to kill him, then no. Waldorf will have the edge. If it were a fight to the death, I wouldn’t place a coin on either of you.”
Several gasps of surprise rise from the crowd.
“Remember, Mallick. It will take training and dedication to reach your full potential.”
“I’m committed, Grand Mage.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I have one more request. The next time Mellefleure contacts you, come to me directly. I need to have a few words with her.”
“I’ll contact her right now and let her know.”
Nick nods, then takes a swig of wine from a skin. “Go on, then. This should be fun.”
I walk into the Forgefire Passage, past the guards. I need quiet to focus my mind and connect with my “friend.”
Mellefleure, are you there? It’s me, Mallick.
After a moment of silence, the purr of a familiar female voice pops into my mind. Hello, Mallick. Are you enjoying your new spell?
Sort of. I wasn’t too thrilled to find out the gaverek was trying to kill me or that it was my great-uncle.
Necromancy is the art of controlling death, dear boy. The grand mage must have told you this. As far as your demise is concerned, you’re more than capable of handling Uncle Khrozan.
I’m at a loss for words. There’s so much I want to ask.
Is there anything else, cutie?
Nicodaemus would like to talk to you. I’m sure you can connect with his mind, as well.
Pish-posh! If the grand mage of Stonecrusher wishes an audience, who am I to deny him? Tell Nicky I’m on my way, and save me a glass of that wine.
I’ll let him know.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tempress
Everyone stares as Mallick returns to the cavern and announces Mellefleure’s imminent arrival. In seconds, the cavern becomes controlled chaos as people jump from their place of rest to find a defensible position.
Nicodaemus stands on a large stone and shouts over the din. “Calm down, everyone. She’s not going to arrive and start blasting people. Act normally. I’ll ask her a few questions, and hopefully, her answers will provide insight.”
Nicodaemus gestures for Waldorf and me to stand beside him while he pulls Mallick closer.
A familiar vertical glow slices through the air and parts like curtains to reveal a grand room on the other side, filled with polished wood furniture and opulent gilding, bordering on garish. Bright light shines into the room, presumably from oversized windows.
Equally as opulent is the resident stepping through. Her calf-length leather boots glisten as her leg protrudes through a scandalously high slit in her beautiful black and burgundy dress. The rings on her fingers gleam, and her many bracelets make a cheerful shing-shing sound as she steps into our cavern.
Mellefleure.
With open arms and a smile three feet wide, she walks directly to the grand mage and slides her hands up and down his body during her long and inappropriate embrace.
After a lingering kiss, she steps back while holding his hands. “Nicky! Thirty years in prison have done nothing to diminish your sexiness. Thanks for the invitation. I thought you’d never ask.”
The grand mage sighs heavily, still holding her hands. “Thanks for coming, Melle. I believe you met everyone at the dais, but at the risk of being overly formal, I’ll do it again.”
Mellefleure bounces like a little girl while she stares into the grand mage’s eyes. “Thank you. You know how I love pomp and circumstance.”
Nick steps aside and gestures at our necromancer. “Allow me the honor of presenting my newest apprentice, Mallick Berylshield.”
“Hi, cutie,” She winks and seductively runs her long nails down Mallick’s cheek. “He’s a great teacher. Let him take control. You won’t regret it.”
Mallick blushes and becomes flustered. “Nice to meet you in person, Mellefleure.” With a quick nod, he shrinks back.
Nicodaemus steps aside and gestures Waldorf forward. “This is Waldorf Spudsticker, chief of Clan Stonecrusher and Sui Gheneris to the All-Father, Alghar.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Waldorf bends in a deep bow with an elegant flourish.
She returns his bow and flourish with equal flair. “A dwarf with manners! It is my honor to meet Alghar’s Sui Gheneris, defender of the dwarven realm.”
Nicodaemus steps in front of the two boys and gestures for me to step forward. “Finally, this is Princess Tempress Brightchild, heir to the throne of Ahn’Ziu. I believe you met her parents, King Elraith and Queen Sylmara.”
I execute a unique bow and flourish reserved for visiting dignitaries, then rise with my warmest smile and recite an ancient elven greeting. “May the radiance of the sun warm your soul and empower you to overcome any obstacle that comes your way.”
Mellefleure beams and claps as she replies with the appropriate response. “May the moon’s tranquil glow guide you through the darkness, offering hope and the promise of a new dawn.”
As we grip each other’s shoulders, we recite the last verse of greeting together. “May the wind carry whispers of ancient wisdom to your ears, to remind you to tread upon this land with reverence and gratitude.”
We touch our foreheads and embrace, per the ancient custom.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Mellefleure. Strong female elven casters are rare, and I consider it a blessing we’ve crossed paths. I would consider it an honor to sit and converse with you.”
Mellefleure stares with a look of stunned incredulity. “The pleasure is mine, Princess, and I would also like that if we ever find the time. The honor you bestow upon me with the Words of the Ancestors is recognized and appreciated. Only my brother receives those words, and not for many years.” Mellefleure touches her forehead to mine again. “I see you, Tempress Brightchild.”
“I see you, Mellefleure.”
We remain standing, forehead to forehead, for almost a minute before she steps back and takes my hand. “By the way, I’m sorry about your father and all that. Things happen, you know.”
I give her a half smile. “I understand. Can I offer you a cup of tea?”
“By tea, do you mean wine?” She winks.
I giggle. “Precisely what I meant. I’ll see what I can find for you.” I head to the supply wagon that carries our wine supply and retrieve the finest vintage while people continue the conversation behind me.
Mellefleure’s smoky voice rises above the quiet chatter. “By the goddess, she leaves quite an impression, and she’s sweet as honey, as well. It’s easy to see why you two are together, Chief.”
“What does that mean?” Waldorf asks abruptly.
Mellefleure’s trilling laugh echoes around the cavern. “Isn’t it obvious, dear boy? You’re a brooding, prickly mess of a dwarf, and she’s your little ray of sunshine. She peeks through that cloudy demeanor you call a personality and brightens your day. She balances you, like I do for Nicky.”
“We are not a couple anymore, Melle,” Nick retorts.
“Ouch! Words can hurt too, sweetie.” Mellefleure runs her fingers through Nick’s beard. “You two are as cute as a pair of fuzzy chipmunks! I hope it works out for you as well as it did for us.”
“Again, we are not a couple,” Nick repeats in frustration.
I walk into the firelight and present a small keg of wine to Mellefleure. “This is our best vintage. Unfortunately, we only have coffee cups, so I apologize for the presentation.”
Mellefleure takes the small keg and twists the spigot to fill her coffee mug. “Well done, Princess. We do what we must when we’re on an adventure, which brings me to you, my sexy man-dwarf. How can I assist your merry band of travelers?”
I look around the cavern as I take my seat with Waldorf. Everyone intently watches the interaction between the grand mage and our visitor.
Nick accepts a mugful of wine and looks at the beautiful monarch elf. “Just like that, you’re willing to help us? That’s refreshing and surprising. I’ll take you at your word, and hopefully, this will go quickly. I’m—”
Mellefleure puts her finger on Nick’s lips and whispers in his ear. He nods and gestures for Atha to come over. A few whispered conversations later, Atha casts around the cavern with her marmoset boosting. She nods at Nick, then returns to her seat.
Nick gives Mal’s grandma a respectful head nod. “Thank you, Atha. Folks, we’re now protected against scrying and eavesdroppers. Melle, why are you creating such chaos between the elves and dwarves?”
Mellefleure’s eyebrows raise. “I’m offended you would even ask that question, Nicky. I thought you knew me better.”
“I do know you better. That’s why I’m asking.” Nick sits on a stack of packing crates and invites Mellefleure to sit beside him.
“Fair enough.” She drains her mug and holds it out for a refill. “I’ll answer your questions, but I expect a favor in return, Grand Mage.”
Nick twists the spigot and refills her mug. “I’ll agree to nothing yet. If you answer my questions honestly, I might be willing to entertain certain requests. The more forthcoming you are, the more I’ll be willing.”
“Aren’t you a big tease today! I accept your terms. Ask your questions, my hairy studmuffin.” She gently drags her fingernails up and down his forearm.
“Stop that.” The slightest of curls show at the corner of Nick’s mouth. “Are you responsible for the chaos between Ahn’Ziu and Clan Stonecrusher?”
“I’ll need you to define responsible.” She grins.
She loves teasing him.
Nick seems on edge, and her reply pushes him further. “This isn’t going to work. You couldn’t be honest if your life depended on it.”
“I’m sorry,” Melle pleads while suppressing a smile. “Let’s try again. I’ll do better. Honest.”
Nicodaemus inhales deeply. “Are you responsible for the chaos between Ahn’Ziu and Clan Stonecrusher?”
“No, I am not responsible for the chaos between the enclave and the clan.” She sips her wine.
Nick watches her quietly. “I will rephrase the question. Are you involved in the chaos between these two groups?”
Mellefleure continues to sip her wine for a moment. “Yes, I am involved,” she hesitantly confirms.
Nicodaemus turns on his crate and regards Mellefleure with contempt.
“What do you want from me, Nicky?”
The grand mage takes her hand in his. “I want you to tell the truth, and hopefully, we can end this craziness. People are dying, Melle. Is that your plan to have both clans wipe each other out?”
“As I previously said, I am not responsible. By that, I mean this is not my plan. I am a player like you.”
“Whose plan is it?” Nicodaemus asks.
“You know I can’t answer that one, Nicky,” Mellefleure replies. “Familial oaths forbid it.”
“Ahh, yes. Betrayal of the oath means betrayal of the family and alerts them all to what you’ve done.” Nick sits in quiet contemplation. After a moment, he stands and takes a sip of his wine before he continues.
“I’ve always respected your loyalty to your family, especially your brother. I can attest that everyone here eats, sleeps, and breathes family loyalty.”
Everyone nods as they hold the hand of their loved one.
Mellefleure casts her gaze around the room and sees the love. “Yes, as the only living family member I communicate with, he means a lot to me.”
The only living member? There’s a lot to dissect in that sentence.
He refills her mug, then his.
“I often wondered why the elven goddess Tothena made Varion’s Razor. It seems odd for her to create such a magnificent weapon, designed specifically to kill the champion of the dwarven god.”
“You malign the goddess, my love. She would never craft such a sword nor commission its manufacture. She is a kind and benevolent goddess, wishing peace and harmony for her people.”
Waldorf sets his mug of wine on his knee. “She didn’t craft it? That’s the rumor I’ve heard from several people. If not the goddess, then who? A weapon of this quality isn’t crafted by just anyone.”
Mellefleure grins and gazes into Nick’s eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m unable to answer that.”
“Yes, of course. Your familial oath.”
Mellefleure grins and raises her eyebrows.
Nicodaemus silently stares into Mellefleure’s eyes as he sips his wine. Suddenly, he grins. “Melle, your brother is an especially gifted caster. If I remember correctly, he was also a gifted smith. Does he still practice the art of crafting weapons?”
Melle nods as she grasps his hand. “Oh yes. Monarch elves patiently perfect each skill over centuries of practice, and my brother is considered a grand master weaponsmith. His patience, planning, and mastery of the arcane arts allow him to create truly legendary weapons.”
“Weapons like Varion’s Razor.”
“I’m sure you understand I can’t speak to anything specific.”
Nick kisses her hand. “I understand. Thank you.”
Mellefleure leans over and rests her hand on Nick’s, which he clasps.
Theirs is quite a love-hate relationship.
Waldorf walks over and refills his mug. “Who would focus their energy on destroying Clan Stonecrusher in particular? Or do you think there is a focus on destroying Ahn’Ziu?”
She sits in quiet contemplation for a moment. “That’s an interesting question, but I recommend you ask a person with more wisdom to get an accurate answer, such as my brother.”
Waldorf tops up Mellefleure’s mug. “Perhaps I’ll have the opportunity one day soon. Currently, my focus is on reclaiming our ancestral home.”
Melle rests her hand on Waldorf’s as he steadies her mug. “I heard about your plans after Queen Sylmara escorted you from Ahn’Ziu. That must have been upsetting to leave without the elven army as support.”
“It was a setback, but we landed on our feet. We lost an entire army but gained protection from the weather and can move faster.”
She raises her mug to thank Waldorf for the top-up. “For sure. Traveling in a granite tunnel is much easier than an ice-laden cart path. Are you concerned about the avalanche of stone troglodytes pursuing you with their goblin minions?”
“An avalanche?” Mallick asks.
“That’s what they call themselves as a group. They said it makes them sound tough and dangerous. I offered other suggestions, but they insisted.” Mellefleure waves dismissively.
“How many are in an avalanche?” Waldorf asks cautiously.
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Are they behind this granite slab now?” Waldorf points at the granite barrier Hrothgar dropped into place.
Mellefleure’s trilling laugh fills the cavern again. “Oh goodness no! That was only a few of them. There will be more of them on the road ahead. Goblins, too. They don’t use your tunnels, Chief. They have their own network of passages they travel along.”
Nick gently tucks her hair behind her ear, making her smile. “Did you give the troglodyte known as Trugut the amulet of elemental control?”
“I did not,” she murmurs.
“Was it your brother?” Nick presses.
“Sorry, Nicky. I can’t answer that without breaking familial bonds.”
“I hoped you would say that. When you met with the troglodytes, how many were there?”
“I didn’t meet with them, Nicky. I was there as a plus one and suggested alternate names because I felt their choices were atrocious. I expected too much of them. They’re troglodytes, after all.” She rolls her eyes and waves dismissively again.
“Why would you choose troglodytes and goblins as allies?” Waldorf asks.
“I didn’t choose them, but this group was chosen specifically for their sheer numbers, as you’ve noticed by now.”
“I did notice. I also noticed you said ‘this group.’ Do you have more allies?”
Mellefleure pauses to drink her wine. “Of course. Everyone has more than one group of allies, even you.”
Waldorf nods. “You have a point. We have other allies, but I’m curious why anyone would arrange for allies to attack us. We’re only trying to go home.”
“You represent much more than simply dwarves going home, my dear boy.” Mellefleure raises an eyebrow. “Once Prince Arbane lost Varion’s Razor to the Sui Gheneris of Alghar the All-Father, reacquiring that sword became a priority for your enemies.”
Waldorf throws his hands up in frustration. “Why would that be important enough to kill over?”
“That sword is designed for many things, including to stop the champion of all dwarves.”
“I haven’t done anything against you or your brother.”
Mellefleure’s chuckle is disarming and worrying. “Waldorf, without training or knowledge of background events, you’ve instinctively ruined many well-thought-out plans. Your irrational need to free all subjugated people causes certain people no end of fits.”
Nick interjects, “Melle, you allude to being merely a pawn in this game of your brother’s, yet every time you tell us about his evil acts, you’re with him. It sounds like you’re two sides of the same coin.”
She nods and studies the floor before looking at our grand mage. “That’s a fair assumption because our family consists of the two of us. We’re always together but have an unspoken agreement to respect each other’s privacy.” She leans in clandestinely and motions us all to do the same.
“My brother has a habit of obsessing, which blinds him to seeing alternatives. If you want a chance at changing the course of your future, you should keep this knowledge hidden.”
Nicodaemus’ head snaps up, and his gaze focuses on Mellefleure. He gently takes her hand as he looks into her eyes. “What is your brother blinded to, Melle?”
She hesitates. Betraying her brother must be difficult.
After several calming breaths, she continues. “I’m limited to what I can divulge, but Aenor is obsessed with retrieving Varion’s Razor and battling Waldorf. He knows you’re growing in power and will likely attack soon before you become stronger.”
