The Tiger's Eye (Book 1) (21 page)

“Will you listen?” Hobart asked.

Angus nodded, rapidly tapping the wand against his thigh to
keep from lashing out with it. He was still furious, but a part of him knew a
lot of the anger wasn’t really directed at Giorge; it had been building within
him ever since Voltari had thrown him out of Blackhaven, and Giorge was just a
convenient, easily justifiable target for his rage. Still….

The tapping was quite rapid, quite firm—and the wand was a
delicate piece of ivory. He looked at it, grimaced, and slid it expertly back
into its straps. Then he pried open his right hand and let the reins drop.
Gretchen didn’t move; nor would she unless he directed her to do so with his
legs.
How do I know that?
Angus ranted in his mind.
How can I not
know who I am but can remember things like that?

“Like I said,” Giorge began, gently patting Millie’s neck.
“I had sold your coins. The buyer paid more than what I had expected—a lot
more—and I was excited about it. When you didn’t answer, I thought I would
surprise you with the news. I had exchanged the two you had left for a pouch of
gemstones, and I was going to leave those gems on your table.”

“Where are they now?” Angus demanded.

“We had to use most of them to get you out of the dungeon,”
Giorge said. “There were a lot of bribes involved, and that was before the
fine. After the upkeep and taxes, we distributed what was left. Your share is
in your backpack with your garnets.”

“My garnets?” Angus asked. “They confiscated them.”

Giorge smiled at Millie’s neck and said, “They only took the
ones they found,” he said. “I made sure they didn’t find very much.”

“You took my garnets?”

“Yes,” Giorge said. “And all the other things I could find.
You know,” he added, looking sidelong at Angus without turning his head. “If I
didn’t know you were a wizard, I’d think you were a thief by all the things you
had hidden under that robe of yours.”

“You searched my tunic?” Angus accused, his eyes narrowing
as he pressed his lips tightly together.

Giorge nodded and turned to tell his horse the rest of the
story. “Yes,” he said. “When I saw the wall, I knew you were going to be taken
to the dungeons, and I didn’t want them to take everything you had. I couldn’t
take the wand; they were bound to find out about that. So I grabbed your
backpack and made a thorough search of your clothes. I left Teffles’ book on
your desk, too. It would be less suspicious than finding a wizard without one,
and I thought you’d want your scrolls more.”

“All right,” Angus said. “You pocketed my things and then
what?”

“I did what I could to help you,” he said. “You hit that
wall pretty hard. When I saw you crumpled up like that, I thought you were
dead. But you weren’t. It was pretty bad, though. Your skull was tender and
scrunched when I touched it. Half your ribs were cracked or broken. There was
something wrong with your back. But you were still breathing.”

Angus frowned, ran his hands over his chest and shook his
head. “That can’t be true,” he said. “There’s no hint of broken bones; I feel
fine.”

Giorge smiled and nodded. “Now,” he said. “But then, you
were a mess. It took a lot of convincing for them to call in a healer to mend
you. But they did, and she was exceptional. It was only after you were
recovering that they threw you in the dungeons.”

“It was costly, too,” Hobart added. “We spent a lot more of
the gems Giorge had gotten for those coins. The
Banner’s
gems.”

“There was still plenty left over, Hobart,” Giorge said.
“And if Angus proves to be as useful to us as we suspect he will be, it is a
small price to pay. After all, he did have that map.”

“Who cares about that damned map?” Hobart grumbled. “I can
buy a map for a few
silvers
. His healing cost
thousands
of gold.”

“Not his map,” Giorge said. “Ask Ortis. It’s as old as the
coins, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Ortis said. “But what does that matter.”

“Well,” Giorge finally turned away from Millie to face them,
a hint of his typical grin threatening to etch onto his lips. “If my
information is correct,” he continued, “it may lead us to The Tiger’s Eye.”

“The what?” Hobart asked. “I don’t really like the idea of
fighting mountain cats.”

“I didn’t say it was a tiger,” Giorge clarified. “I said
The
Tiger’s Eye
.”

“So?” Hobart said. “What’s the difference?”

Giorge sighed. “There’s a legend,” he said. “It goes way
back to a time before Urm. It’s about a ruby the size of a large man’s hand.
They called it The Tiger’s Eye, and it was reputed to have had strange and
wondrous powers. It was part of what drove Urm to expand the kingdom. He
thought the plains folk had it, but they didn’t. Then his son went after the
dwarves for the same reason, and with the same results.”

“That doesn’t seem likely,” Angus said, feeling his anger
subtly shifting to curiosity. “According to Fyngar, Urm simply wanted the grain
for himself. There was no mention of this Tiger’s Eye, and I am quite confident
Fyngar would have mentioned it if he had known of its existence. He was quite
thorough in his critique of Urm’s motives.”

“That’s only one story,” Giorge countered, brightening a bit
more as he spoke. “There are others. One involves the Angst. They were a
strange group of religious fanatics from the time before the Dwarf Wars. They
worshipped fire and prayed to a god of destruction and chaos. Some say they
accepted the plains folk into their ranks—and the dwarves. Others say they fled
from Urm as his armies moved west into the mountains, but they eluded him.
Others say they were always in the mountains, but Urm didn’t know about them;
it was only after Vyr’s extension of the kingdom that they were discovered.
Whatever the truth is, they all say the Angst disappeared into the mountains or
were there all along. But after the volcanoes started erupting, no one ever
heard from them again.
And
all the legends say the same thing about The
Tiger’s Eye: It was so powerful that it could burn a man to cinders in an
instant.”

“What does that have to do with Angus’s map?” Hobart asked.

“Simple,” he said. “The symbol that looks like a flame
burning on top of a pyramid resembles the ones mentioned in the rumors. I think
it is one of their temples. If it hasn’t been completely destroyed, we might
find The Tiger’s Eye.”

“There has been a lot of volcanism over here,” Ortis hedged.
“It is almost certainly destroyed.”

Giorge shrugged. “Probably,” he agreed, then grinned for the
first time since leaving Hellsbreath. “But what if it isn’t?”

“Other banners have probably found it,” Hobart said. “Or
other things.”

“What if they haven’t?” Giorge asked, his newly rediscovered
enthusiasm difficult to squash.

“All right,” Hobart said. “You think that ruby is in this
temple, and the temple has protected it from being destroyed, don’t you?”

Giorge nodded, “It would make sense, wouldn’t it? Why have
that
one
temple indicated on Angus’s map?” he asked. “I’m sure they had
many other temples that weren’t noted, so it has to have been the most
important one, perhaps even their central temple. Think about it; how many
small shrines are on the maps we have today? None, that’s how many. But most of
them have at least
some
of the major temples noted. They may vary on
which ones, but that’s more the personal preference of the mapmaker, isn’t it?”

“That does make a sort of optimistic sense,” Hobart said.
“But I won’t believe it until I see it.”

“Speaking of which,” Ortis said. “We should get going. I’m
sure the guardsmen on Hellsbreath’s wall are wondering what we’re doing.”

Hobart glanced back at Hellsbreath again and nodded. “I
would be watching us if I were them. I might even send riders out later to make
sure we left the area.”

“I’ll get my map out,” Angus said, reaching for his pack. “I
think we need to follow along that river, don’t we?”

“No,” Ortis said. “We don’t want them to know where we’re
going, do we? If we go along the river, they will want to know what we are
doing. They’ll be sure to follow us, even if they weren’t planning to do so
already. It would be better to go north at least to the second caravan stop
before we break off into The Tween.”

“That’s a good idea,” Giorge said. “We can always backtrack
later. I, for one, do not wish to be followed if we can avoid it.”

“There’s a road on my map,” Angus said. “Didn’t we pass one
on our way here?”

“That road was abandoned long ago,” Hobart said. “They
started building it at the same time as Hellsbreath but gave up on it. The
mountains are taking it back.”

“I wonder if they were using the old roadbed,” Angus mused.
“If I were building a road through here, I would. It would save time, wouldn’t
it? They wouldn’t have to carve the roadbed out of the mountainside.”

“We can take a look at the map when we’re on the other side
of this hill,” Ortis said. “It may be in the right place.”

“All right, then,” Hobart said, looking from Giorge to
Angus. “Is it settled?”

“For now,” Angus said, sensing the coals of anger still
burning within him—but at a controllable level. “But if he disturbs me again….”

“I won’t,” Giorge said. “Not even if an assassin like Typhus
is on your trail.”

Angus frowned, looked at Giorge—who smiled slyly as he
spurred his horse forward—and fell into place between the first and second
Ortis. Hobart and the last Ortis trailed some distance behind them, talking
quietly with each other….

10

“There’s the road,” Hobart said as they reached the valley
floor. “Even here you can see there’s no upkeep.” He nudged his horse forward
onto the old road heading west along the valley floor. “The cobblestones are
weathered, the mortar between them is crumbling, and there has been no effort
to replace the broken ones. Up ahead, they’ve reclaimed some of the
cobblestones to repair the newer roads and grass is sprouting up between most
of the ones that are left. Don’t be surprised if some of them are loose. When
we reach that mountain, we’ll have to keep near the upslope in case our horses
stumble.”

“There are tracks,” Ortis said. “Someone still uses this
road.”

Hobart nodded. “Trappers, hunters, the Hellsbreath’s patrols
go past the mountain to make sure the dwarves keep to themselves. They don’t stay
on the road, though; they keep to the valleys and come back around south of
Hellsbreath.”

“That must be it,” Ortis said. “It looks like a group of
horses went through here about a week ago. But I don’t see them coming back.”

“It’s an infrequent, long patrol,” Hobart said. “Maybe once
a month or so.”

“Let’s go then,” Giorge said, nudging his horse onto the old
road, Millie’s hooves clattering noisily with each step. “We have a few hours
before it will be dark.”

“We should stay at the caravan stop,” Hobart suggested. “We
can come back here tomorrow. That way, if they’re following us, we can confront
them.”

Giorge stopped, turned Millie to face them, and said, “Let
them follow us this way,” he said. “They’ll give up sooner.”

“That may be,” Hobart said, not moving.

“Look,” Giorge added. “We only have two or three weeks
before winter sets in up there, right? And it will hit Hellsbreath not long
after that. We can’t winter in Hellsbreath this year, so the sooner we check
this place out, the more time we’ll have to find somewhere else to stay.”

“True,” Hobart said, but he made no move to follow Giorge.
“Of course, Wyrmwood is nearby.”

“Well?” Giorge said. “Do we go or not?”

Hobart shrugged. “I’d feel more comfortable if I knew why
this road was abandoned.”

Giorge grinned and said, “We’ll know
that
sooner if
we go now than if we wait for tomorrow.”

“All right, Giorge,” Hobart conceded. “Lead the way, then.”

They were still in the valley when they set up camp for the
night. Hobart explained what Angus’s responsibilities were and showed him how
to tend to his horse for the evening. Once Gretchen and Leslie were hobbled,
they gathered around the fire and waited for Ortis to finish with a simple
vegetable soup.

“This will be better than the last one,” he said as he
handed a bowlful to Angus. “We’re far enough away from the main road that I’ve
been finding some very pleasant roots, leaves, and berries. I even have a melon
for dessert.”

“Thank you, Ortis,” Angus said, his hunger not caring about
the taste as he took his first bite. “After what they fed me in the dungeons,
this will taste wonderful, I’m sure.” It was a palatable stew, almost tasty,
and he nodded to Ortis before taking a second bite.

After they finished eating, Giorge set to work on the dishes
and Hobart said. “Listen, Angus, I know you’re still angry with Giorge.”

“I’ll set it aside soon enough,” Angus said.

Hobart nodded, but continued. “You haven’t been in The Tween
before, have you?”

“Aside from the main road?” Angus replied. “No.”

“Well, there are stories about it. It’s important that you
hear a few of them.”

“Such as?” he asked.

“They’re mainly rumors,” Hobart hedged. “We aren’t sure if
we should believe them or not.”

“Rumors generally have a grain of truth in them. Some have
more.”

Hobart nodded. “The people telling them are suspect,” he
said. “Most of them claimed to have gone into The Tween and came back out
again.”

“So?”

“Most of them are lying,” Ortis said. “If not all of them.
The Tween generally doesn’t let people leave.”

“You make it sound like it’s alive,” Angus said.

Hobart considered for a long moment before nodding in
agreement. “I suppose,” he said, “it is, in a way. It’s a feeling, a presence.
I’ve felt it before.”

“You’ve been in The Tween?” Angus asked.

Hobart nodded. “All of us have,” he said. “Except you. It
was a different part of it, further north, but….”

“It was the caravan,” Ortis said. “We went with it west out
of Wyrmwood. As we crossed through The Tween, something watched us. But we
couldn’t see it; all we could do was feel it there, watching us like a giant,
invisible, unblinking eye.”

“It was a large caravan,” Hobart added. “There were a lot of
guards for it. We were all on edge, and that sharpens the senses. It was
unnerving. It’s like being chased by a shadow at the edge of your eye, but
every time you turn, it disappears.”

Angus nodded. “I think I know what you mean,” he said. “A
sense of danger that never manifests,”
like when Voltari wasn’t there but I
knew he was watching me.

Hobart nodded, “It’s a real danger. There is something in
The Tween that isn’t strong enough to attack caravans, but it doesn’t have any
qualms about attacking smaller parties, like our own.”

“So,” Angus asked, “what do these rumormongers have to say
about it?”

“That’s just it,” Hobart said. “They never have anything
to
say. It’s all vague notions about this or a sense of that, but never any
specifics. That’s what’s so unnerving about it. It would be easier to deal with
The Tween if we knew it was a dragon or dwarves, or something else equally
tangible. But it’s never more than that sense of something dreadful watching
you, waiting for an opportunity to strike.”

Angus frowned; he was feeling an irrational sense of
foreboding that he hadn’t had before Hobart started talking. “Why are you
telling me this?” he asked.

“We’re heading into The Tween now,” Hobart said. “If you
feel anything like that, let us know at once. We must be vigilant, and a false
alarm is far better than an absent one when there is a real danger.”

Angus nodded. “I think I understand.”

“Good,” Ortis said. “You and I can take first watch—unless
you need the rest?” he asked.

“First watch will be fine,” Angus said. “But I will need
time to prepare myself tomorrow. I cast a spell in the dungeon that I haven’t
yet replaced. That is,” he added turning a half-hearted glare at Giorge, “if
Giorge lets me do it.”

Giorge shrugged. “I won’t bother you.”

“Good,” Angus said. “It is one of Teffles’ spells, and I am
unfamiliar with it. It will need my full attention.”

“No more need be said,” Hobart declared. “We will respect
your privacy, won’t we Giorge.”

“Absolutely!” Giorge said. “It will give me time to practice
throwing my new net.”

Angus nodded. He was anxious to find out what that first
simple spell would do….