NOVEL NEXT Chapter 68: Clegghold
The wagon had been trundling through the mountains for a few days now, winding along paths and crossing over large wooden trestle bridges. Snow still covered the mountain trails, but it wasn't as thick as it could've been, and in the evergreen valleys, the rivers were beginning to unthaw.
It was spring. Animals would be coming out of hibernation, people would be celebrating that they survived winter, spring festivals would be beginning any time, but the demons didn't care about such trifles. Humans' schedules didn't matter to them.
As they wound along the side of a mountain valley, horses trotting on a pathway carved into the edge of a slope that overlooked a large river valley full of pine trees and the beginnings of the Whitesurge river, Irmond asked, "So…uh, how exactly are you going to steal the Silent Wraith? Like, how are you going to power it up?"
Wulf tilted his head. "Like we did with Vanguard. We'll get in there, and turn it on."
"Vanguard was easy to turn on, though," Seith said. "It'd been used recently, it was designed for lower tier students, and it was already…just working."
"You're looking at a thousand-year-old Oronith," Irmond said.
"Probably more like four thousand," Kalee said. "And it's been sealed away in a mountain all this time."
"I imagine its internals will require a little shifting," Wulf said. He still held the wagon's reins steady.
"A little?" Seith exclaimed.
"Alight, a lot," he said. "But either way, it won't matter. My storage core is large enough for this. As long as I can…turn Silent Wraith into a potion, I can manipulate it. I can shift around components and allow access to different parts. I can move them and join mana conduction lines. If we can't get it running, no one can."
"What about its mana pools?" Seith asked. "They'll be empty after all this time, and instead of trying to circulate mana through the Oronith, you'll have to fill its pools first, which are massive."
He shrugged. "I should have a solution. If they work anything like the storage constructs, which I'm pretty sure they do, I can manipulate the Field."
"You kinda scare me sometimes…" Irmond said.
"But there is one thing we're going to need," Wulf said. "I was thinking we'd pick it up when we reached Clegghold. I imagine that it'll be easy to find and acquire…but we shouldn't delay."
"You can't just say that and not tell us what it is," Irmond said.
"I could." Wulf paused for effect. "But I won't. That'd be mean." He looked back and shot them a small smile. "I need a deepstone pacifier."
"Hm?" Seith tilted her head.
"There should be a few prototypes being worked on in Clegghold," he said. "Simply put, deepstone is naturally volatile. If we try to start up the Silent Wraith, the deepstone that makes up its main form—which has a thousand years of pent-up volatility—is just going to explode. We'll use the pacifier and slowly release it as we're starting the Wraith, and it'll allow the deepstone to adjust to its new environment." He sighed. "And be more receptive to my potions."
"How're we going to get it?" Kalee asked.
"Well, there should be a warehouse on the east end," Wulf said. "I believe. It stores stone-aspect materials, and there should be a few experimental Artificers there. As were most warehouses of this era, best I recall. They were working on all sorts of inventions."
Kalee sighed. "So you're just going to steal valuable, experimental equipment from guild Artificers? They're probably affiliated to a guild, right?"
"Correct on the guild part. But we're not going to steal anything." Wulf patted his haversack. "We're going to trade for it."
~ ~ ~
Clegghold had no walls, but a ceremonial gate beckoned travellers into the north end of the city. It stood on the valley floor, looming ten storeys above the road. Columns flanked the brick trail, each as thick as an Oronith's leg, and a flat slab of stone crossed overtop, marked with ancient runes. They said something, but Wulf couldn't read it.
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Besides, he was more interested in the Oroniths looming on either side of the gate. They were made solely out of deepstone—not like Scarlethorn or the Fist of Bellar—and each one carried an enormous shield and spear. If Wulf hadn't known better, he'd have assumed they were simply decorative statues, but every so often, they swayed in the wind.
Out of curiosity, he assessed them with the Field:
[Right Spear of Clegghold (Middle-Iron Tier Oronith)]
[Left Spear of Clegghold (Middle-Iron Tier Oronith)]
Not much better than Vanguard would have been. He pursed his lips, somewhat intrigued, but soon, the wagon passed through the gate beneath them.
They'd descended to the valley floor earlier that day, and now, it was midday. The sun didn't exactly loom overhead—it was still Secondmonth, after all, and the sun was low on the horizon—but it was still bright enough in the valley.
The mountain walls peeled away, expanding from a valley into an enormous crater. Towers filled the west side of the city, their glass windows glistening and carved marble facades glowing in the sun. Their roofs were shingled or thatched, and bridges spanned between them. Raised roads allowed wagons to traverse high above the warehouses of the western half, and thrustwings circled above, carrying letters and parcels.
Wulf's mouth was probably hanging open, but thankfully, he was facing forward. None of the others would see.
It wasn't that he'd never seen a city like Clegghold before, but seeing it in its prime, in its golden age, was different altogether. He steered the wagon into a line of traffic on the lower roads, then slowed the horses to a trot to match their speed.
There had to be hundreds of wagons. Most carried ores and lumps of deepstone on heavy wagons—borne by teams of four or eight oxen. There were a few carriages with dark windows and closed tops, giving the passengers privacy, and a few wagons carrying piles of raw spices. Heaps and heaps of orange or red powders from distant lands, or vegetables he'd never even heard of before. And…were those pineapples? He couldn't say he'd ever tried a pineapple—
Stay focussed. You can explore the city later.
At the center of Clegghold was a mountain lake. Its waters glistened turquoise, and a promenade ran around its sharp, man-made edges. Wulf steered the wagon down a thoroughfare, aiming for the lake at the center, which acted as an enormous roundabout.
And, in the very center of the lake, stood three more Oroniths, watching over the city. The three of them held swords, and though Wulf was too far away to assess them with the Field, they looked about the same strength as the outer guards.
They weren't special—they probably hadn't been in enough fights to earn a reputation and become special—but they'd still do their job.
Even approaching the city, without entering the downtown area on the west side, the buildings were about five storeys tall, and they rose up on all sides, sometimes even leaning over the street.
Street performers, vendors, cooks, and other minor artisan Ascendants peddled their wares on the street, approaching the wagons or carriages. But no one approached Wulf's wagon.
"We look that poor?" Irmond asked. "I suppose, if father caught me travelling like this, it'd be hells to pay."
Wulf rolled his eyes. "We've been travelling for a month, and I'm sure the wagon and horses still have some residual draugr stink."
Even if it had been a week since then, that stench had been all-penetrating and foul.
But, then again, they were entering a massive city. It had probably two hundred thousand inhabitants, and though there was a sewer system for the humans, there was nothing to be done about horse droppings roasting in the spring sun. People had probably gone nose-blind to it.
"Let's just find this warehouse of yours," Kalee said. "We're late, and we've arrived just in time. Wulf…if I've kept track of the date right, the demons should be coming in the evening. As soon as the sun sets, the spheres started falling."
He hung his head. Admittedly, he hadn't kept perfect track of the time. They'd planned to arrive early, but then again, Umoch had come and caused problems for them. It slowed them down.
"Damn it…" he breathed, then looked up at the mountains. Beyond the east side of the city was the Slumbering Peak—the tallest, loneliest of the mountains. Most of the others seemed to be leaning away from it, whereas the Slumbering Peak's tip bent forward and loomed over Clegghold, like it had fallen asleep standing up, and its head had lolled forward. "That doesn't give us much time to get the Wraith started."
"Then you better get this deepstone pacifier quickly," Kalee said.
"I plan to. I've already got the potions ready to trade."
~ ~ ~
Wulf navigated the wagon through the warehouse district. He stayed on ground level, taking the more precise roads, where cargo wagons transported goods between workhouses and their eventually storage locations, or shipped them out of the city—they'd continue east to the ports, or spread out all through the Confederacy.
He pulled his wagon to a halt in front of the Deepstone Mining Guild's construct warehouse, then leapt over the side.
If he timed it right, they should be just in time. He ran around the side of the warehouse and aimed for an alleyway between its barren stone walls and another large stone warehouse, then hunted for the scent of pipe smoke. Mr. Illis, a head Artificer at the guild, should be heading outside for a daily smoke.
Sure enough, halfway down the alley, a man in a white coat leaned against the wall, striking a flint and trying to light his pipe.
"Mr. Illis!" Wulf called. He motioned for the others to step back and return to the wagon. "Sir!"
"Hm?" The Artificer looked up from his pipe, then turned to Wulf. "Do I know you, boy?"
"Uh…no." Wulf cleared his throat. But you will know of me. You did know of me…in the future, I suppose.
Mr. Illis was Lisa's father, and though he hadn't yet met Lisa in this life…he had learned a little about her father and gotten to know him.
"Sorry, sir," Wulf said. "I'd just heard of you and one of your projects. From an, uh, friend. But it's an emergency, and I could really use some help right now."