Rune Seeker - Book 3: Chapter 74: We’re Too Late

A burst of Rejection shot Hiral out of the pit and into the room so fast Gauto barely had a chance to scurry back with a strangled yelp before Hiral landed in front of him. One step, two, and Hiral lifted his friend off the ground and into a tight hug.

“Gauto, it is good to see you,” Hiral said.

“You too, Hiral,” Gauto said, returning the hug, then quietly adding, “Damn, this coat is soft. What is it made from? Wait, wait, wait, it is you, isn’t it, Hiral?” With the question, he pushed himself free from the embrace—though his hand did run down the fabric of the rune-covered sleeve—until he got a good four feet away.

“It’s me, Gauto.” Hiral pulled down the hood from his Coat of Ur’Thul as he spoke to make sure his friend got a good look at him.

“The all-black is kind of edgy,” Gauto said, waving his hand up and down at Hiral’s wardrobe. “Not to mention the… Is that a huge sword over your shoulder? And… and is that ring floating?” That last part was apparently far too much for Gauto to resist, and he scrambled around behind Hiral to inspect the Ring of Amin Thett. “It is floating! Floating! How? How is it doing that? And… why is your sword broken? Oh, hello other Hirals.

“WHY ARE THERE OTHER HIRALS!?” Gauto asked in a choked shout, backing up again as the rest of the party stepped out of one of Seeyela’s portals beside him.

“Excitable friend,” Seena said.

“You’re so hot,” Gauto said in awe to Seena. “I mean… you’re on fire. Literally. And… why do you have a dog’s skeleton on your shoulder? Is it wearing clothes?”

“I am not a dog!” Li’l Ur squeaked, blue circles of power instantly forming around his hands. “I am the reformed, legendary evil that made your ancestors tremble in their beds. I am the force that singlehandedly created the undead and nearly brought this world to its knees! I am the power that…!”

“He’s cute. Boop,” Gauto said, poking Li’l Ur on the end of his skeletal snout.

“Boop? BOOP!?” Li’l Ur seethed. “Mistress. He dared to boop me. I shall…”

“There, there, Li’l Ur,” Seena said, gently stroking the lich and passing him a curl of her hair. “Play with this, okay?”

Li’l Ur seemed like he was going to resist, but the lure of the hair was just too much, and the blue glow around his hands vanished as he caressed the locks.

“There’s a lot to explain,” Hiral said, snapping his fingers to pull Gauto’s attention back to him. “Too much to explain, really. We don’t have a lot of time. We need to find a Grower… uh… a Nomad who came up to the island. Can you help us?”

“And we need to find him quickly,” Seeyela added, her eight eyes glowing fiercely.

“Whoa, scary… lady?” Gauto said, jumping back while clearly ogling the subtle curves of Seeyela’s armor.

“Gauto,” Hiral said, “focus on me.”

“Which one of you?” Gauto said, but Left and Right both pointed at Hiral. “Ah, thanks, other Hirals.”

“Good,” Hiral said. “Gauto. Nomad. Can you help us find him? He got picked up by some Shapers on a Disc of Passage, so that limits who could’ve done it. Do you have any idea where we can find him?”

“Oh, I know exactly where you can find him,” Gauto said. “If it’s who I think it is. Cloak with a hood, but he’s carrying a spear that looks an awful lot like the Spear of Clouds.”

“That’s him!” Seena said. “Where is he? Do you know why he’s up here?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Gauto said while going over to once again inspect the Ring of Amin Thett. “On the one hand, there’s the group that claims he’s here to save us from the storm. Those would be the ones who brought him up here. On the other hand, well, there’s the people that first group has been killing or taking hostage.

“They have a pretty different opinion on things. I’m in that latter group. Uh… though I wasn’t killed or taken hostage yet, so maybe there’s actually a third group that…”

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“Gauto!” Hiral snapped his fingers again. “Killed? What the hell is going on?”

The Maker finally pulled his attention away from the ring floating at Hiral’s back and seemed to sober up. “A lot’s happened since you vanished. Things got bad, then they got worse.”

“Like we said, we don’t have a lot of time,” Seena said. “We are here to save the island from the storm, which is the exact opposite reason Fitch is here.”

“Fitch is the name of the man we’re looking for,” Seeyela clarified. “The spear he has—we need to get it back. It was keeping the clouds back. Also, yes, it’s actually the Spear of Clouds. What? I figured explaining things straight would save him asking questions later. He’s like a hyper-excitable Yanily.”

“Right,” Seena said, turning back to Gauto. “So, give us the short version of what happened. Just the important parts.”

“Important parts? Okay, I can do that. Around the same time you died… er… disappeared, Hiral, a group of Artists—with Shaper support—came out to challenge the Council’s decision to maintain trade relationships with the Nomads. They argued we can figure out how to harvest quills without them, so why should we waste resources on them?

“No offense,” Gauto said to Seena and Seeyela. “Anyway, as you can guess, there was quite a divide on the topic. It’s not the first time it came up, but it was the first time there was that much support for it. More than that, they presented a supply of quills to the Council they claimed they’d harvested themselves.”

“Stole, you mean,” Seeyela said. “I doubt it was just my group they attacked.”

“Attacked? Where?” Gauto asked.

“On the surface,” Hiral explained quickly. “We got attacked and stranded by a group of Shapers down there. Had an Artist with them, and a Disc of Passage. Probably not a coincidence. What happened after they provided the quills?”

“They attacked you?” Gauto said. “They didn’t mention that part at all. Which makes sense. Anyway, after the proclamation, the Council didn’t immediately agree with them. Most of the members consider trade with the Nomads pretty important, your father among them, but the other group went to work in the background. Spreading rumors, gathering support, that kind of thing. Trying to put pressure on the Council to agree to their terms.

“Politically, their maneuvering was quite adept. They went about…”

“Skip to the killing and hostage-taking part,” Seeyela interrupted.

“Ah. Hrm. Okay. Let’s see. Things have been escalating, but nothing came to blows until a few hours ago. When the storm started moving, the group of Artists came forward with the Nomad you’re looking for—Fitch?—and said he could save us all. But, they wanted the Council to step down and give rule over the island to them in exchange for the help.”

“And, let me guess, the Council didn’t agree?” Hiral said.

“Correct. And the insurgent group opposing them went on the offensive immediately. Took hostages. Outright attacked people they couldn’t find leverage on. It all happened so fast. The fighting has mostly calmed down already—the insurgents were ready for the Council to say no.”

“My father? The rest of my family?” Hiral asked, a pit opening up in his stomach. He should’ve expected this—if they were willing to kill Growers, of course they would escalate.

“Alive, as far as I know, but prisoners,” Gauto said. “No Shapers in your family, but your parents hold a lot of sway in the Artist community, no matter which side you’re on. They’re being kept alive to get them to switch sides. Your sisters will be used as leverage for that.”

Hiral’s fists clenched at his sides. If anybody so much as lays a finger on one of them…

“Where are they?” Left asked, his voice tight.

Hiral glanced at his doubles. Their tattoos and Meridian Lines glowed as they fought to keep their anger in check.

“Prisoners are kept in two places,” Gauto said. “The ones who can’t fight are at the Amphitheatre of the Sun. The Shapers opposed to the insurgents—Loan is one of them—are in the prison.”

“You have a prison up here?” Seena asked.

“Kind of,” Hiral said. “The Shapers use it as one, though, really, it rarely gets used. It’s always been more of a threat than a tool. It’s one of the old housing barracks we built back at the beginning. Like where we were staying.”

“Like where you were staying?” Gauto asked, but Hiral waved a hand to dismiss the question. Explaining the year they’d spent within the Rise of Fallen Reach dungeon would really take too long.

“I’m sorry to hear about the prisoners, I am,” Seeyela said, “but it’s Fitch we need to worry about first. Though, I don’t see what he gets out of all of this. What does he care about our trade agreements or quills?”

“Nothing,” Hiral said. “It was just an excuse to get him up to the island. He needed a Shaper with a Disc of Passage, or at least a Platform of Movement to bring him here. What I don’t understand, though, is how the Artists would’ve even known about Fitch. Why did they go down and get him at all?”

“Weeeeeellllll,” Gauto said, rocking his head from side to side, “there is one other crazy part of the story I didn’t mention, because, well, it’s crazy.”

“Spill it,” Seena said.

“When the Artists went before the Council the first time, part of their justification for taking over was what they called the Will of the Island. They claimed the island—Fallen Reach—was speaking to them. Telling them it was time for them to take control.” Gauto wiggled his finger in little circles beside his head.

“The Will of the Island?” Seena asked, but Hiral stopped listening as his stomach dropped so hard it was a miracle the floor didn’t collapse again.

The storm was bad. The killing and hostages were terrible. But this? This was so much worse.

“We’re too late,” he said hoarsely. “The Fallen is already awake.”