Engines of Alchemancy (The Alchemancer Book One)

Chapter 13. The Hounds of Hell

IT TOOK SOME DISTANCE—A league, Aaron figured—before the wind and the rain finally smothered the piercing, mournful song of the dogs. Aaron was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to find someplace warm and dry to curl up and rest. For once, Ensel Rhe obliged him, though he insisted they trudge across several more leagues before he finally stopped in front of a dark hole hidden beneath some tangled brush. The eslar swept the opening clear and, stooping, entered the cave. Aaron would have followed right behind him except that it was too dark. He remained crouching just far enough inside to protect himself from the worst of the rain until a spark and then a small flame enticed him in deeper. Master Rhe had been here before, for already there was a shallow fire pit dug and a stack of enough dry wood to last several nights. At its brightest, the fire was small, but then so was the cave. It was dry, though, and soon warm enough. With the almost pleasant sound of rain falling outside, Aaron felt a small amount of comfort with their new surroundings, but not enough to chase away memories of the hounds.

"I don't like dogs," he said, as if the words might purge him of the last of his lingering fear. He jabbed one end of a stick into the fire, then tossed it into the flames and watched it burn.

"C'en dun, daegs w'me."

Aaron looked across the fire. The eslar's gaze remained lost in the flames.

"That's krill," Aaron said. Krill. Cat-people. Aaron attempted a translation. "When I..." He didn't know Krill, but he'd studied the phonetics of the Vem and knew Kernecian. Both were similar. "When done, dogs... No. When I am done..." Aaron sat up. "When I am done, the dogs will come for me." A belch of thunder rattled the cave. When its noise had faded, Aaron asked, "What does it mean?"

"It means," Ensel Rhe said, settling against the wall as he stretched his legs before him, "that I do not like dogs, either."

"Do you think the savant, Erlek, sent them?" It seemed a stupid question, for Aaron was already quite certain he knew the answer, though Master Rhe indulged him, anyway.

"Yes," the eslar said. "I've no doubt of it. Clearly, he was not pleased with your escape from the city."

Aaron took no satisfaction from that. Not wanting to think about the dogs anymore and figuring they'd already exhausted what they knew about the savant, Aaron changed the subject. "You spent time amongst them, didn't you? The krill, I mean."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because it's the only explanation for the way you jumped off that balcony and survived and you've hardly slept since this whole thing started and not once have I seen you so much as yawn and—"

"Spending time amongst the krill explains none of those things. Only those born krill can be krill. I am eslar. Besides, to have spent time with them, I would have had to have entered their lands. The krill suffer trespassers only as long as it takes to kill them, which is not very long."

"Yes, but I know what's said of the krill. Or, at least, what's been written about them."

"Oh?"

"There was a book in Master Elsanar's library. The author attended one of their trade days. They hold those at the fringes of their land, so I guess they tolerate outsiders at least that much. The book documents some of the author's observations. Cat-people never lose their balance, they can fall great distances without injury, they never really sleep, at least not like we—not like I do—but instead nap frequently. Also..."

"Yes?"

"The book said the krill have more than one life."

"Really?" said Ensel Rhe, one brow raising. "How many lives do they have, then?"