Delving Beneath the Surface

Chapter 4

Verona burst through the doors of the museum, jostling the paintings on the wall. From his small reading nook in the corner, Elliott shot daggers over his book. She mouthed a quick I'm sorry and hurried past him, towards Gunther who sat behind the counter. She stopped short, chest heaving and fanning herself with both hands. Sweat poured down her back, soaking through her cotton shirt.

"Sorry, I just got your message," she gasped, "I was helping Robin put the finishing touches on the coop and I forgot to check my mail this morning. I didn't expect—"

"Take a breath, darlin'," Gunter said gently, "These scrolls ain't goin' nowhere."

Verona took a deep breath through her nose, plopping in the stool opposite him. Two scrolls of cracked parchment sat unraveled on a thin strip cloth to protect them against the hardwood beneath. The same runes that decorated the outside of the canisters covered the page.

"What did you find?" she managed after a moment, "Do you still think it's dwarven?"

"Without a doubt. This language ain't look like any other I've seen." Gunther held up one of the scrolls for her to see. The iridescent ink shifted between different colors like slick oil in a lamp. She gawked at it. It glittered, like they had crushed gems into dust. "I took a few samples for Demetrius. I want to know what this ink here is made of."

"It looks opalescent," Verona noted, "Do you think they made an ink using crystal dust?"

"We'll draw our conclusions when we have test results." Gunther placed the scroll back down, careful not to smudge the writing. "I wanted to start decipherin' but we still need a few things before we can start."

Verona frowned. "Like what?"

"We need references of the language we're trying to decipher," he gestured to the scrolls, "a lot of them. It's all about cross-referencin' different texts. We also have no idea if the dwarves use an alphabet that's akin to ours."

Her head swam as he walked her through the motions of decipherment. It seemed like a long, complicated process. As he went on, her heart sank to the soles of her boots. How disappointing. "So, you're saying we can't do anything with these?"

"Not yet," he sighed, "but that doesn't mean we should give up."

"What do I need to do so that we can do something with them?" She didn't want this to end. Not yet. This whole thing made her feel like herself.

Gunther scratched his temple thoughtfully. "Well, if you're lookin' to help, I could always use more artifacts of dwarven make. Anythin' with their language on it – maybe even somethin' with ours. That way we can develop a key."

"A key?" Verona furrowed her brow. "You mean like a lock and key?"

"Kinda," Gunther said slowly, "If this language is the lock, then sure." He snapped his fingers as he considered his next thought. "Have you seen the spy shows where they write secret messages that only they can read? The hero needs to use a fancy gadget to decode it. Think of it that way."

Verona straightened in her seat. "Oh, okay, well I'll be sure to keep an eye out when I'm down in the mines. I stumble across a lot of weird things down there."

"Might be worth chattin' up ol' Marlon down at the Adventurer's Guild," Gunther suggested as he gingerly scrolled the parchment. He slipped the first carefully into the canister, now polished like the surface of a shiny new penny. "That geezer knows the mines like the back of his hand. He might be willin' to share a bit of friendly advice."

Verona buzzed her lips thoughtfully. Marlon had told her to stop by the Guild if she ever needed advice. Or a new weapon. The knife in her backpack grew heavy at the thought. Perhaps it was time for an upgrade, especially after her last trip down there. Whatever lurked in the shadows would require more than a hunting knife.