A Murder of Necromancers

Chapter 5: The Lighthouse

What had once been a faint, sputtering ink trail in the sky now resolved itself into a plume of gray smoke against the fading light. Gynefra hurried forward, heedless of the sprain in her leg or the possible danger around them. She slowed only to crest a final rocky ridge, dislodging stones as she pushed herself up. There it was—the campfire burning away merrily, with two crates broken open beside it.

And no sign of anyone else.

Gynefra let out a low breath as she stepped forward, pausing now. A crack sounded. She twisted to her right, staff raised and readied. A form emerged from a thicket of trees. The campfire reflected against armor, gleaming over pristine plate mail and a double-headed axe blade. Gynefra smiled and lowered her staff as Camille and Airic struggled up to join her. They came up short, blinking in astonishment at the sight.

"I recognized your handiwork on that orc by the shore," Gynefra began. "Well met, Jag."

"Well met," the Dwarf rumbled back, lowering his axe. "And here I hoped dinner was approaching, or at least another orc. I could do with a bit of sport." He reached for his helmet, prying it loose to reveal long brown hair in an intricate series of braids, marked in places by rings of gold, silver, and bone. He studied the two humans for a moment. "And you are?"

"We're from Varanach," Airic said. "My name's Airic, and she's Camille, our Wise Woman. Will you visit us?"

"That's..." Jag blinked. "We were planning on camping here. I was going to chop more firewood," he added, gesturing to a scoured trunk with several bundles of freshly chopped wood near the smoldering campfire.

"We?" Gynefra asked. "I haven't seen anyone from the band since the storm hit us."

"Jez and I arrived together," he replied. "She's gone looking for herbs in the rocky hills."

"We'll wait for her return, then," Gynefra said. Airic scrambled away, saying he'd grab more firewood. The Dwarf leaned on his double-headed axe, favoring his right leg, but seemed otherwise unharmed. His brown eyes shone with curiosity as he glanced from Gynefra to Camille.

"What happened during the storm?"

Gynefra shook her head. "It's all a bit of a blur to me... I was telling the Wise Woman here about how we left Amalsund, only to be shoved out into that lighthouse. You remember?"

"I do," Jag said, and the hard edge in his voice softened. Airic arrived with several branches, and he began snapping away the thinnest parts. "I'd like to apologize," he rumbled. "I didn't handle everything as well as I might have. My blood was up, and Varus..." He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Camille leaned forward as Jag selected a tree limb, setting it in place on the felled trunk. "Would you mind telling us what happened?"

Jag grunted as his axe swung down in a flash, severing the tree limb and gouging deep into the trunk. Wooden splinters flew as he wrenched it back up. "I don't mind," he said, pushing the firewood aside and grasping another. "Sit beside the campfire. Make yourself warm," he added, clearing his throat. "So, as I was saying, my ardor was aroused as we came to the lighthouse..."

***

"Don't even start with me, Darius," Jag thundered as they made their way up the winding staircase. Darius was leaning against the Dwarf, who was puffing away as he took each step without pause. "That black-coated bastard was not about to let us go sailing into the sunset."

"All I'm saying—"

"Give it a rest," Gynefra broke in from the front. Any chance of surprising the occupants of the lighthouse had gone away as their bickering broke out. Warily, she took the final few steps, staff at the ready. "I would have preferred to let the issue lie, but likely it was inevitable. Now then. Lightkeeper, are you home?"