The Endless Solvent

Camaz bought as much time as he could. Finally Laell told him of her ‘assessment’ of the runes on the stick.

“From the placement of the rah, tah and kolou-kyn shapes, I think I can pick up a trace,” she said carefully. “I can start work on an enchanting circle, but it will need the touch of sunlight for it to work.”

The rah, tah and kolou-kyn shapes, if Camaz could remember correctly, all had connections to talisman making. He could only pray he understood her double speak correctly: Laell is hypothesizing that Moulu and his men are not affected by Solvent abilities because of a talisman. These were typically wooden charms engraved with runes.

It made sense - a non-permanent solution and it kept them safe. However it meant they could be removed. That was key. “The sunlight is required to alight the way, if Aris escaped,” Laell continued nervously. “That’s the solution I think will work.” More awkward phrasing, more meaning between the lines. The only thing he could for now was trust his runist student and wait.

“Well then get to work,” Moulu said roughly. “If you try anything, runist, I’ll cut your hands off.”

“Did your god tell you to make young girls cry?” Camaz said sarcastically. “Sounds like such a legitimate religion.”

“I need a large area, with dirt firm enough to draw on,” Laell said. She held up the stick with runes on it. “And I need to draw with this.”

Moulu nodded at two of his men. “Take her out front. More than ten paces from the threshold of the house. If she tries to run, kill her.”

“And torches,” Laell said hurriedly. “So I can see.”

“You’re asking for a lot,” Moulu said suspiciously. Camaz briefly felt a wave of fear from her.

“Do you want us to find Aris or not?” Camaz asked immediately with a touch of annoyance. The torches are probably crucial for what she was planning. “Because I have a student bleeding out in the cellar. We don’t have time.”

“Fine,” Moulu gestured to his men again and they took torches slotted in metal grates on the wall and lit the way for Laell. She gave him one last glance and went outside where the sky was already an inky blue and turning black.

Two men outside with Laell. Moulu and one man with Camaz. Three downstairs with the Manus students. One of his students was heavily injured and unable to walk. The odds weren’t in their favor.

Moulu was no longer in the mood to talk. He settled next to the small fireplace and brooded next to the small flames that barely provided any heat. Camaz didn’t know what to think about his ‘old friend’s’ sudden interest in religion and the gods. Kuvans and Sekrelli had deep ties to the Parts and thought of them as creators of the world. Back when he dressed in Sekrelli colors Camaz didn’t think much of the belief system. He always sought proof with his own eyes; he thought Moulu would have similar beliefs.

Perhaps something traumatic happened to Moulu. Maybe he did meet a god. Camaz spent the time fighting the urge to ask more questions and wrangle more truths out of the other man. He thought he knew Moulu but this person sitting in front of him was now a stranger. And what was this talk about ‘the Final Solution’? What could that possibly be?

Long hours passed. Occasionally the man who waited with Moulu and Camaz went out to check on Laell and her escorts and returned to update them. He made no comments on the runes so Camaz’s assumption that none of them were really that well versed in runeology was accurate. It raised their chances of survival a little.

Finally the sky through the small window started to lighten. Camaz cleared his throat to bring Moulu out of reverie. “It’s about time. Perhaps we can see what Laell drew up?”

“What makes you think you’ll be a part of the search party?” Moulu snorted.

“I was hoping everyone would be in the search party,” Camaz said. “Because I intend to leave the moment you find Aris. That was our deal.”

“We never made a deal.”

“Well let’s make one now.” Camaz leaned forward, ignoring the stiffness in his back from sitting in place for so long. “We bring you to Aris, the moment we see her we’re free to go. I don’t intend for Raka to lose his leg.”

“You’re trading one student for another?”

“Aris had her chance at the Academy and she squandered it. And judging from everything you’ve told me about… gods? The Final Solution?” Camaz waved his hands dismissively. “I don’t get paid to understand any of that. It’s grown complicated with her and I don’t like complicated.”

Moulu gave him a look. “You don’t believe me.”

“Does that matter?”

He was silent for a long time. “What do you believe in, Cam?” Moulu asked. “If not a god? If not a higher calling?”

“People only do things for power or money,” Camaz said. “Kings and beggars, the rich and poor, women and men. Even children do and say things to attain the most sweets or to lord over other children. I don’t think you or I are any different.”

“Yes, I agree,” Moulu said softly. “And I’m sick of it, old friend. All of it. The spy games we play, thinking knowing who fucks who gives us an edge. Having noblemen pay us to watch other noblemen. Learning a kingdom’s secrets and selling it to another kingdom. All of it. Then one day we die.”

“You’ve never been afraid of death.”

“The Bringers have shown me otherwise.” Moulu rose again from his seat to pace. “They showed me the Parts are real and serving them is what we were born to do. I have purpose, Cam. Real, tangible purpose. And suddenly everything makes sense, the Gates, the Unseeing - all of it has a reason. The Bringers have the answer. Do you have any idea how valuable that is? For death to cut that short… it would be devastating.”

He was nearly raving again. Camaz looked to the other man in the room who had been standing there the whole time not saying a word. Did these men also believe in what Moulu was talking about? Were they these ‘Bringers’? “I have no interest in what you’re peddling,” Camaz said coldly. “I meant what I said:t people only do things for money or power. I’m saying these people you work for are no different, they just spin it differently.”

“I guess it doesn’t really matter,” Moulu said. “In the end. You have no need to understand. I’m not sure why I needed to give you a chance. Old loyalties, perhaps.”

“Your loyalty died when you put that sword on my neck,” Camaz said.

Moulu was silent for a long time after that. Then he looked to the other man and ordered for the prisoners in the basement to be brought up.

As the sun peeked from the horizon of a newly cleared sky, they left the house to see an exhausted looking Laell busily scraping away with the stick on the ground. It was difficult to see what she had drawn out, only that it looked extremely complicated and swirled in several spots, most notably positions where the torches had been stuck to the ground on.

Verne and Dori came out supporting Raka between them who looked pale and clammy but seemed to be able to move with their help. His leg was heavily bandaged runes drawn on the bandage probably stopping most of the bleeding. Their three guards were close by, one of them carrying their confiscated weapons on his back. From what Camaz could tell, it was less because Moulu agreed to a ‘deal’ and more to easily threaten Laell if she tried to refuse, judging by the way the guards were itching to draw their weapons. He carefully kept the relief off his face.

“She’s almost done, apparently,” one of the men overlooking Laell announced as they approached.