The Report

Windmarch appeared before noon. Jandar saw the walls first. Gray stone above the fields, square towers standing against a pale sky, the Silver Crown banner moving over the gate. The sight should have felt like relief. Instead, he found himself looking at the cart. Five bodies lay beneath canvas behind them. The road had been quiet since Arrowdale. Too quiet. Zook walked ahead as usual, though he had stopped wandering so far from the road. Deacon stayed near the cart.

Xil had checked the bindings around the bodies twice that morning. Vegon carried the ruined journal and the small collection of badges and equipment recovered from the cave. No one had suggested leaving any of it behind. Jandar had complained about the pace once. Nobody laughed. He had not tried again. The gate guards noticed the cart before they noticed the marks. One of them stepped forward.

“Order business?” the gate guard asked.

Deacon rolled up his sleeve. The man’s eyes dropped to the silver mark. Then to the covered shapes. His face changed.

“How many?” the guard asked.

“Five,” Deacon said.

The guard looked at the five of them. Then back at the cart. No one explained. He opened the gate. Windmarch swallowed them. Noise returned all at once. Wagons. Hammers. Vendors. Children. A team of horses dragging lumber through the square. People moved around them with the comforting indifference of those whose day had not changed. Then they saw the cart. One by one, conversations faltered. The Silver Crown colors were recognizable. So were bodies.

Jandar had carried dead men into ports before. On ships, death rarely remained private for long. A body changed the way everyone moved around it. People spoke more softly. Men who had insulted the dead the previous evening suddenly remembered virtues they had never mentioned while he lived. Cities were different. A crowd could look at death and continue walking. Jandar had always thought that was a useful skill. Today he found it unpleasant. They climbed toward the citadel. The same doors.

The same guards. The same polished stone corridors through which they had walked less than a week earlier as five people who barely knew one another. Jandar remembered the branding room. Zook pretending the mark had hardly hurt. Deacon pretending not to smile. Vegon studying everything. Xil being stared at by everyone except the people who should have mattered. It felt longer ago than it was. A clerk met them inside.

“You were expected—” the clerk began.

Then he saw the cart through the open doors. His sentence stopped. Deacon handed him the recovered badges.

“Thaklar,” Deacon said.

The clerk looked at them.

“Of course,” the clerk replied.

He left quickly. Jandar leaned against the wall. His ribs still hurt—not badly. Enough to remind him of Xil’s hands pressed against his chest in the cave and the uncomfortable certainty that he had been leaving the world whether he intended to or not. Xil noticed him leaning. Jandar straightened. The drow said nothing. That was worse somehow. They were taken upstairs. Not to the small chamber where they had received their marks. This room was larger. A strategy room.

Maps covered one wall. Another held shelves of bound reports. A long table filled the center. Thaklar entered first. Vistra came behind him. Neither greeted them. Their attention went directly to the five Silver Crown identifiers Vegon placed on the table. Thaklar stood very still.

“Confirmed?” Thaklar asked.

Xil answered.

“All five,” Xil said.

Vistra closed her eyes. Only for a moment.

“Where?” Vistra asked.

“Cave system north of Arrowdale,” Deacon said.

Thaklar looked at him.

“Start at the beginning,” Thaklar said.

Jandar almost said something. He did not. Deacon began. It was the obvious choice. He gave the report the way Jandar suspected he gave everything important. Straight. Road attack by bandits. Gnoll sightings. Arrowdale. Disappearances. Tracks north. The cave. The dead patrol. Bone creatures. The blue crystal. The attack on the village. He did not dramatize anything. That made it worse. Thaklar interrupted only for details.

“How many gnolls?” Thaklar asked.

“Twenty or more involved in the Arrowdale attack. Some remained outside the village,” Deacon said.

“Living?” Thaklar asked.

“Some,” Deacon replied.

Vistra looked up.

“Some?” Vistra repeated.

Xil took over.

“Several were dead before the battle began,” Xil said.

Silence. Vistra’s gaze moved toward him.

“Undead?” Vistra asked.

“Not like any I have seen,” Xil said.

“What does that mean?” Vistra asked.

Xil thought before answering.

“They retained speed. Purpose. Some responded to the living gnolls around them. Others continued attacking after the living withdrew,” Xil said.

Thaklar looked at Deacon.

“They withdrew?” Thaklar asked.

“To a horn signal,” Deacon said.

That disturbed him. Jandar saw it—not much. A tightening around the eyes. The Order had expected monsters. Perhaps even undead. Organization was different.

“Were they commanded?” Thaklar asked.

Deacon said, “I think so.”

“By whom?” Thaklar asked.

“No idea,” Deacon said.

The answer sat heavily in the room. Vegon placed the ruined journal on the table.

“There is more,” Vegon said.

Thaklar looked at him.

“The cave contained a blue crystalline object embedded behind stone. We could not remove it,” Vegon said.

“Crystal?” Thaklar asked.

Vegon nodded.

“It affected magic around it,” Vegon said.

Vistra came closer.

“How?” Vistra asked.

Vegon hesitated. Jandar watched that hesitation with more concern than he would have a week ago. He had seen what happened when Vegon did not understand something. The elf went toward it.

“The corruption became stronger near the crystal,” Vegon said. “Or perhaps more concentrated. I cannot say with certainty.”

“What happened to you?” Thaklar asked.

Vegon looked at him. Thaklar had noticed the dried blood on the wizard’s collar. Of course he had.

“Spell failure,” Vegon said.

Xil said, “More than once.” Vegon did not look pleased. Thaklar turned to Xil.

“How serious?” Thaklar asked.

“He stopped breathing,” Xil said.

Vistra’s expression hardened. Jandar glanced at Vegon. The wizard’s jaw tightened.

“It was temporary,” Vegon said.

Jandar could not help it.

“So was mine,” Jandar said.

Every eye in the room turned toward him. Jandar regretted speaking. Not because the line was poor. Because it did not belong there. Vistra looked at him.

“What happened?” Vistra asked.

Jandar’s humor disappeared.

“Bone creature caught me,” Jandar said.

“How badly?” Vistra asked.

Xil answered.

“Close,” Xil said.

That one word did more than a full description. Vistra looked toward the five identifiers on the table. Then at Jandar. He suddenly understood what she was seeing. Five dead. Five returned. Not much difference between those outcomes.

“Anything else?” Thaklar asked.

Zook stepped forward.

“The gnoll tracks bothered me,” Zook said.

“How?” Thaklar asked.

“Too clean in places,” Zook said.

Thaklar frowned.

“Clean?” Thaklar asked.

“Obvious,” Zook clarified.

Zook pointed at the map.

“The patrol followed them north. Some tracks near Arrowdale looked like they had been left where they would be found,” Zook said.

“You think they were lured?” Thaklar asked.

“Maybe,” Zook said.

Jandar glanced at Deacon. The older man did not react. Zook continued.

“The disappearances stopped when the first patrol arrived. Then the patrol went into the hills,” Zook added.

Vistra said, “And after you returned?”

“The village was attacked,” Zook said.

Thaklar looked at all of them. Nobody said it. He did.

“You believe someone was watching Arrowdale,” Thaklar said.

“Yes,” Deacon said.

“Someone who knew the Order had sent people,” Thaklar continued.

“Yes,” Deacon said.

“And responded differently the second time,” Thaklar said.

Deacon nodded. Thaklar walked to the map wall. For several moments he studied the region around Arrowdale. Jandar watched him. The room had changed. This was no longer a missing-person report. It had become something larger—not enormous—not yet. But larger. Vistra touched one of the identifiers on the table.

“Names?” Vistra asked.

Xil gave them.

“Corren. Sel. Marek. Davan. Elira,” Xil said.

Vistra repeated them quietly. As though making sure they stayed attached to the bodies. Jandar liked her more for that. Thaklar turned.

“You brought them all back?” Thaklar asked.

Deacon answered.

“Yes,” Deacon said.

“Thank you,” Thaklar said.

That was the first thing anyone had said that sounded personal. Deacon nodded once. Jandar looked toward the window. He was suddenly tired—not physically. Something else. He had spent much of his life around people who treated the dead as part of the cost of doing business. Sometimes they were. That did not make them less dead. A knock came at the door. A young clerk entered. He stopped when he saw the identifiers.

“Sir,” the young clerk said.

Thaklar looked at him.

“What?” Thaklar asked.

“Master Eticus asked to be informed when the new team returned,” the clerk said.

Vegon straightened. Jandar noticed. Thaklar did too.

“Already?” Thaklar asked.

“He said immediately,” the clerk replied.

Vistra looked toward Vegon.

“You know him,” Vistra said.

It was not a question. Vegon nodded.

“A little,” Vegon said.

Jandar looked at him.

“A little?” Jandar asked.

Vegon ignored him. Thaklar folded the map he had been studying.

“Then you will all go,” Thaklar said.

Vegon frowned.

“All?” Vegon asked.

“Yes,” Thaklar said.

“I assumed he wanted—” Vegon began.

“He asked for the team,” Thaklar said.

That silenced him. Jandar found that interesting. Until now, Vegon had treated nearly every mystery as something he might eventually solve. Eticus was different—not fear. Respect. Maybe both. Vistra said, “Before you go, I want one thing understood.” They looked at her.

“You did what you were sent to do,” Vistra said.

Jandar glanced toward the table. Five identifiers. Five bodies below. It did not feel like success. Vistra seemed to know that.

“You found our people,” she continued. “You learned what happened. You protected Arrowdale. And you came back.”

Her eyes moved across them.

“That matters,” Vistra said.

No one answered. Jandar wondered whether this was the part where he was supposed to feel proud. He did not. But something in his chest loosened anyway. Thaklar said, “The bodies will be taken from here.” Deacon nodded.

“We’ll help,” Deacon said.

“No,” Thaklar said.

Deacon looked at him. Thaklar’s voice softened.

“You brought them home. We’ll take them now,” Thaklar said.

For a moment Deacon looked as if he might argue. Then he did not. That said more than anything. They left the strategy room. The corridor outside felt too bright. Jandar walked beside Deacon. Neither spoke. Ahead, Zook and Xil followed the clerk. Vegon walked faster than all of them. Jandar watched him.

“Should we be worried?” Jandar asked.

Deacon looked at him.

“About?” Deacon asked.

“Vegon walking willingly toward a wizard,” Jandar said.

“Yes,” Deacon replied.

There. A small joke. But not the old rhythm. Something quieter. Jandar smiled. They descended one level and crossed into an older section of the citadel. The stone changed. Darker. Less polished. The hallways narrowed. The Silver Crown banners disappeared. Jandar looked around.

“This is encouraging,” Jandar said.

Vegon glanced back.

“What?” Vegon asked.

“Nothing,” Jandar said.

He almost said more. Then let it go. That surprised even him. They reached a heavy wooden door reinforced with black iron. No guard stood outside. The clerk knocked. A voice answered from within.

“Come,” a voice answered from within.

The clerk opened the door and left them. Eticus’s chamber was not what Jandar expected. He had imagined some dramatic wizard’s den. Tower windows. Floating books. Possibly a raven that insulted visitors. Instead, the room looked like a library that had lost a fight with a laboratory. Books everywhere. Shelves. Tables. Stacks on the floor. Maps pinned over maps. Fragments of stone marked with old symbols. Three different lamps burning despite daylight. A broken piece of metal suspended inside a glass frame.

Jandar stopped at the threshold.

“Ah,” Jandar said.

Eticus looked up. He was older than Thaklar. How much older was difficult to tell. Gray hair. Sharp eyes. Thin hands stained with ink. He wore no robes. Just dark clothes with sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His attention went first to Vegon. Then Xil. Then Deacon. Zook. Jandar last—not random. Jandar felt inspected. He disliked it immediately. Eticus stood.

“You’re late,” Eticus said.

Jandar looked at Vegon. Vegon looked confused.

“We returned as soon as—” Vegon began.

“I did not mean today,” Eticus said.

Eticus came around the table. His gaze moved across the five of them again. Closer this time. Jandar felt the Silver Crown mark warm under his sleeve. He looked down. Eticus noticed.

“Good,” Eticus said.

“What is?” Jandar asked.

Eticus ignored him. He stopped in front of Vegon.

“You used magic,” Eticus said.

Vegon’s face changed.

“Yes,” Vegon replied.

“Near something blue,” Eticus said.

Silence. Jandar looked at Vegon. Then Eticus. That was uncomfortable. Vegon said, “How do you know that?” Eticus’s attention shifted to Xil.

“And you used divine magic near him,” Eticus said to Xil.

Xil said nothing. Eticus looked at Jandar.

“You nearly died,” Eticus said to Jandar.

Jandar’s hand went unconsciously toward his ribs.

“How—” Jandar began.

Eticus moved to Deacon.

“Gnolls,” Eticus said to Deacon.

The older man went still. Then Zook.

“You found what they wanted you to find,” Eticus said to Zook.

Zook frowned.

“What?” Zook asked.

Eticus stepped back. He looked at all five. Really looked. The room seemed to contract around them. Jandar felt the mark on his arm grow warmer—not painful. Recognizing. Something. Eticus whispered:

“Too soon,” Eticus whispered.

Vegon stared.

“What is?” Vegon asked.

Eticus did not answer. Instead he crossed the room, pulled a chair away from a table, and began clearing books from five more. One stack nearly fell. Zook caught it. Eticus pointed at the chairs.

“Sit,” Eticus said.

Jandar looked around.

“Should we be worried?” Jandar asked.

Eticus finally looked directly at him.

“Yes,” Eticus said.

No smile. No ambiguity. Jandar sat. So did the others. Eticus closed the door. Outside, somewhere below them, five dead members of the Silver Crown were being carried into the citadel. Inside, five living ones sat around a cluttered table while an old wizard stared at them as though they had arrived years before they were supposed to. Jandar looked at Deacon. Deacon was watching Eticus. Vegon had forgotten to pretend he was calm. Xil’s hands rested still on the table.

Zook’s eyes moved around the room, finding exits. Five strangers. Except that was no longer quite true. Jandar realized it only then. He knew how Deacon would stand when a fight began. He knew when Vegon was lying about being fine. He knew Zook would notice a trail nobody else could see. He knew Xil would put himself between death and someone he barely knew and argue about the cost later. And they knew things about him too. Enough to be dangerous.

Perhaps enough to matter. Eticus placed both palms on the table.

“Tell me everything,” Eticus said.

Jandar looked at the four men beside him. Then at the old wizard. This time he did not make a joke. They began.