Chapter 49: Words
Imoen, Edwin and Kivan made it halfway to Beregost by nightfall, and set up camp at the base of a low, sandy cliff. It'd been a quiet day; Kivan had talked as much as usual, and Edwin had barely even mumbled to himself. He hadn't even responded properly when Imoen started talking about all the useful things she could do with divination spells.
Just as Imoen was dozing off, she heard a strange noise. It sounded a bit like the plink a small rock made if it fell on a larger. A short while later, she heard it again. It's not from the cliff, is it?
"Kivan, do you hear that?" she whispered nervously.
"Aye," the elf replied, sounding too calm for an emergency.
"What is it?" Imoen asked.
"The wizard," Kivan said.
"What is Eddie up to now?" Imoen muttered, mostly to herself.
"Go see for yourself," Kivan replied.
Imoen got out of her bedroll, pulled on her boots, and followed the noise. Soon, she saw a glint of magelight between two skinny trees, and soon after that she saw Edwin. He sat on a dry slope that was covered with pebbles, and a magelight hovered over his head. He was picking up small stones from the ground and flinging them at a boulder some ten feet away. The stones made the little plinks as they hit the larger rock.
"Heya, it's me," Imoen said quietly.
Edwin turned and looked at her. It was too dark to make out his face properly, but she was sure he was glaring at her.
"Um, whatcha doing?" she asked.
"What does it look like?" Edwin asked. "(Not a moment of peace...)"
"It looks and sounds like you're throwing pebbles at a rock," Imoen said.
"How perceptive."
"Why are you doing that?"
"Why must you always ask me such inane questions? (Besides, it's none of her business!)"
"Because you're not holding up your end of the bargain, silly!"
"(What?) What bargain?"
"The deal was that I take you with me to Beregost, and you keep me company. But so far, you've been as quiet as Kivan, and now you're keeping me awake with those rocks!"
Edwin picked up another rock and threw it. It hit the boulder dead center.
"Nice hit," Imoen said.
"One cannot become the world's greatest spellcaster without good aim," Edwin said sourly. "(And my aim is good!)"
Oh. So that's what this is about. "I'm sorry about yesterday," Imoen said.
"Why? Was it not amusing to watch the great Edwin Odesseiron humiliate himself with a child's toy?"
Imoen frowned. Why does he have to be so touchy about his shortcomings? "Alora tried to show me how to use a sling yesterday too, you know," Imoen said.
"And?"
"The only bullet I managed to throw at all went backwards."
Edwin was quiet for a while. "Your friend had no such problems," he eventually said.
"You never saw her with a bow, though. She can use one, but she doesn't like having to stand still and aim - I think it makes her nervous. She threw her bow away before we even reached Nashkel."
"She is very good at discarding weapons on a whim," Edwin said.
"I'm sorry about the staff, too," Imoen said. "I didn't think you'd miss it; you never use it, after all."
Edwin lobbed another stone at the boulder. "Yes, I did."
"When?" Imoen asked.
"In the mountains. In the mines. In the bandit camp. While I am not foolish enough to try to bludgeon anyone to death with brute strength (especially when I can obliterate them with a thought instead) I do know the value of being able to shove an enemy out of my way with a long, pointy stick. (I shouldn't even have to tell her this!)"
"Oh. I didn't realise."
"I also used it as walking support in this rough terrain your friends seem intent upon dragging us through. (And she forgets that there are few things more stylish than a wizard with a staff.)"
"I should have asked you more nicely if she could have it back," Imoen said unhappily.
"Yes, you should have," Edwin said, but he didn't really sound angry anymore. "(She can still be so foolish at times...)"
"We can get you a new staff in Beregost, perhaps?" Imoen suggested.
"Perhaps. (They'll probably only have sticks that would be better used as kindling.)"
"And we can definitely get you some new spells. Do you remember that monster summoning scroll Thalantyr had? We can afford it now!"
"I remember," Edwin said, sounding a bit enthusiastic all of a sudden. "Yes, we should be able to afford it and everything else we require with careful managment of our finances."
"That shouldn't be a problem, if we're properly rested," Imoen said.
"My powerful mind is perfectly capable of money management at any hour, day or night!"
Imoen grinned. "Of course it is. Good night, Eddie," she said, and headed back to camp.
"Don't call me that," Edwin said distractedly. He threw another stone at the boulder, extinguished the magelight, and followed Imoen.
---
Imoen skipped happily down the front steps of High Hedge, closely followed by Edwin. He was mumbling something about undignified ways to leave a mage tower. Kivan waited for them at the bottom of the steps; he'd not been interested in visiting Thalantyr, and had waited outside instead.
"Did you get everything you wanted?" Kivan asked.
"Yep!" Imoen exclaimed cheerfully. "Thalantyr was busy with some kind of flesh golem research, so he had Melicamp help us instead. You remember him, right?"
"Aye," Kivan said.
"Anyway, he was still grateful that we'd rescued him from chickenhood, so we got some pretty nice discounts!" Imoen said with a grin.
"You forget that he was far from immune to the way you smiled at him," Edwin remarked. "(Unlike others I could mention. Yes, very immune.)"
"Well, he wasn't supposed to be immune, was he?" Imoen said, and pulled a thick bundle of spell scrolls out of her bag. "Look at how many we got, Kivan! And they're all good ones, too; some of them I can't even memorize yet!"
"We also have quite a bit of coin left over," Edwin said.
"Good," Kivan said. "We'll be able to get more supplies at the smithy tomorrow."
"Yes, yes, but let us get back to town now. I want to scribe these in peace and quiet as soon as possible," Edwin said.
It was already early in the evening when the three of them left High Hedge, but Kivan knew the quickest possible path to Beregost, and they made it to the town by nightfall. They headed straight for the Jovial Juggler; there was a slight chill in the air, and Imoen was more than happy to get inside. Kivan set off to arrange for their rooms, while Imoen and Edwin claimed the largest available table in the common room.
"Do you remember the last time we were here?" Imoen asked as they quickly buried the tabletop under a thick layer of scrolls.
"(Of course I do.) What about it?" Edwin asked.
"I just remembered the fiddler that was here that night. Wasn't he a terrific player?"
"(Oh.) I suppose he was. Now, where is that summoning scroll?"
"Right here," Imoen said, and handed the scroll to Edwin. "I wonder who'll be playing tonight?"
"It is of no consequence as long as they do not disturb our important work," Edwin said. "(Dancing is for common peons, not for the intellectual elite. We have better things to do than that. Yes, that's it.)"
While Edwin buried his nose in the complex scrolls, muttering every now and then, Imoen looked around the room. A lot of people were there, and many of them were talking loudly. She decided to try to listen in on some of the conversations going around her.
People seemed happier than last time, she noticed. As far as she could tell, they'd just gotten fresh iron supplies, and Taerom and his assistants were very busy turning it into new swords and knives and ploughs. We caused that, she thought happily. She grinned when someone behind her raised his glass to the adventurers who'd cleared the Nashkel mines.
Another topic she noticed was that of the bandits. No caravans had been attacked in the past three weeks, she heard some merchants say. They were loudly arguing about whether that meant it was safer, or whether it was just because not many caravans set out in the first place.
"It will be a cold day in the lower planes before I risk my neck in the ruin o' Ulcaster!" someone said behind Imoen. "Who knows what lurks around in those tight passages?"
"Simple logic says there must be magic treasure in the ruins of a magician's school such as Ulcaster, but 'tis a treacherous task to get to it. Dead wizards are not known to sleep soundly, nor to wake jovial," someone else replied.
"Hey, did you hear that?" Imoen whispered to Edwin, pulling his sleeve to get his attention.
"Hear what?" Edwin asked without looking up from his scrolls.
Imoen turned around. Two richly dressed men, merchants or maybe even nobles, were just sitting down at the table behind theirs. "Excuse me, but what is that Ulcaster place you mentioned?" she asked with her sweetest smile.
"You have not heard of the Ulcaster school of magic?" one of the men, a stout fellow with a puffy green hat, replied.
"It was a storehouse of knowledge; the pride of the area," the other man added. He was tall and thin and had a lot of purple ribbons on his tunic.
"A school of magic, you say?" Edwin asked.
"Aye. Its ruins are but a days' march east of here," Puffy Hat said.
"Rumor tells of a magical gate in the bottom o' the school ruins, but no-one knows where it leads," Purple Ribbons added nervously. "Anywhere is better than that accursed place, if ye ask me!"
"What can be so bad about it?" Imoen asked.
"Haunted, it is!" Purple Ribbons exclaimed.
"It was destroyed some three hundred years hence. I've not met a soul who claims to know why it occurred; none that were there are alive to say, and them that haunt the place... cannot tell," Puffy Hat said.
"Being dead longer than you were alive must tend to addle the mind," Purple Ribbons whispered.
"I see," Imoen said. "Thank you for telling us this; we might have gone there completely unaware!"
"Oh heavens, that would be disastrous!" Puffy Hat exclaimed, wiping his brow with his hat. "Come, my friend, I need some fresh air," he told his companion. The two of them bowed deeply and left the table.
"I think we should visit the school, aware," Imoen said, and winked at Edwin.
"Oh, absolutely," Edwin said. "(The girl has a brilliant mind, when she chooses to use it!)"
He very nearly smiled.