Chapter 12

Chapter

Twelve

The Forge's hidden stronghold had been Osric's home for the better part of a year, though there was little to show for it in the cramped quarters he'd been assigned. A narrow cot, a chest for his spare clothing, a basin for washing in the mornings—those were the only furnishings, the only comforts. The rest of the space was given over to his training and research, with tomes and scrolls spread out on the floor, diagrams of ancient artifacts tacked to the walls.

He moved through the room with a sense of detachment, gathering up his few belongings and stowing them in a satchel. A change of clothes. Rations for the journey. A coil of rope, a grappling hook, a waterskin. His journal, bound in supple black leather, and a quill with a fresh vial of ink.

And then, at the last moment, he hesitated, his fingers brushing against the slender volume of dwarven poetry he'd purchased from Hali's shop. It was foolish, he told himself, to cling to the memories of a life he could never have. But he couldn't bring himself to set it aside, not just yet.

Not until he had seen her one last time.

The thought was a dangerous one, a flame licking at the corners of his resolve. She would be safer if he stayed away. If he kept his distance, then the Obsidian Circle would have no reason to harm her. But he couldn't leave things as they were, with her thinking the worst of him. He owed her an explanation, at the very least.

He tucked the book into his satchel, and with a heavy heart, hefted the bag over his shoulder and made his way to the surface.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear Agnith's approach, his mentor's footfalls muffled by the thick rugs that covered the stone floor. It wasn't until the older elf cleared his throat that Osric started and turned to face him.

"Sorry," Osric said, his voice sounding thin in the dimly lit chamber. "I didn't hear you come in."

Agnith regarded him in silence, his expression unreadable. Osric shifted uncomfortably, suddenly all too aware of the guilt that must be written across his features. He and Agnith had been through too much together for Osric to pretend that he wasn't distracted, that he wasn't having second thoughts about their mission. But the older elf said nothing, only crossed the room to stand at Osric's side.

"We are treading dangerous ground, you and I," Agnith said at last. "The Obsidian Circle is a shadowy foe, with tendrils that reach into every corner of the realm. We must be ever vigilant if we are to succeed in our task."

Osric nodded, the weight of his guilt settling over him like a shroud. "I know. I just need to be sure that we are doing the right thing. That this is the path that we should be on."

Agnith's jaw clenched, the firelight casting deep shadows across his face. "The Hammer of Earthblood is a powerful relic, one that must not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. You know the devastation that it could cause, should the Circle succeed in harnessing its power."

"I know," Osric said again. "But at what cost? How many lives are we willing to sacrifice in the name of our cause?"

Agnith placed a hand on Osric's shoulder. "I understand your misgivings, I do. But you must trust in the path that has been set before us. The fate of the realm hangs in the balance, and we are the only ones who can set it right."

Osric's fists clenched at his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking. "I want to believe that. I do. But I cannot help but wonder at what cost our victory will come."

Agnith was silent for too long, the only sound the crackling of the fire in the hearth. Then, to Osric's surprise, he turned and headed towards the door.

"Take the evening to tie up any loose ends," Agnith said, his hand resting on the door latch. "We depart at first light, and there is much to be done."

And then he was gone, leaving Osric alone with his doubts.

Luminara was bathed in twilight, the last golden rays of the sun giving way to the silvery glow of the moon. It was a beautiful city, a city that Hali loved with all her heart, and the thought of what was to come filled Osric with a profound sense of regret. Regret, and longing, and a thousand other emotions that he was ill-equipped to name.

He slipped through the streets with the ease of long practice, his footsteps silent on the cobblestones. He knew this city, its every shadow and secret, but tonight he walked with a heavy heart. The city that had once been a sanctuary was now a trap, a snare that threatened to claim the woman he cared for more than anything in this world.

He reached the market square, the fountain in the center casting shimmering patterns of light across the stone. The last time he had been here, he had been with Hali, his hand outstretched to catch the spray of water, her laughter like a song. He closed his eyes, trying to hold on to the memory, to the way he had felt in that moment. He had felt . . . free. Unburdened by duty, by the gravity of the mission that loomed over him.

But the mission was still there, waiting, and he could not afford to forget that. He had a duty, a sacred oath that he had sworn, and he could not let his feelings for Hali cloud his judgment. The world needed the First Forging once more, and he was the only one who could set it right.

Wasn't he?

He shook his head, trying to clear away the doubts that lingered at the edges of his mind. He was straying dangerously close to the precipice, and he knew that he should turn back, that he should return to the safety of the Forge. But he couldn't leave things as they were with Hali. He couldn't leave her to face the darkness that was coming, not without a warning.

Not without saying goodbye.

He quickened his pace, the satchel weighing heavily on his shoulder. The streets of Luminara were quiet now, the city settling in for the night, but he moved with urgency. He had little time, and there was still so much that he needed to say.

He reached the street where Hali's shop was nestled, the sign creaking in the night breeze. Folio & Fancy: Purveyor of Books and Rare Tomes. The windows were dark, the shutters closed, and a pang of sorrow lanced through him. He had never meant to put her in harm's way. But the Obsidian Circle would stop at nothing to achieve their goals, and he feared that the damage had already been done.

When he reached the door, however, he found it unlocked, the wards that Hali had set in place for him conspicuously absent. He pushed the door open, the familiar scent of old books and candle wax and something indefinably Hali filling his senses, and stepped inside.

The shop was in disarray, books and papers scattered everywhere, and he felt a surge of panic. "Hali?" he called, his voice echoing in the stillness. "Hali, where are you?"

He rounded the counter and found her in the stacks, her eyes wide with panic. "Osric," she said, her voice a strangled whisper. "I didn't hear you come in."

She rose to her feet, brushing a lock of curly hair from her face, and he saw the tear tracks on her cheeks. His heart ached at the sight, at the knowledge that he was the cause of her pain. "What's happened? Where are Sooty and the others?"

Hali's glanced towards the counter, and he saw the ledger book there, open to the last page. "They . . . They've gone home for the night. I made them leave, but I couldn't stay away. I had to come back, I had to . . ."

She let out a shuddering breath, and sank back down onto the floor. "I had to check."

"Had to check for what?"

Hali's eyes met his, and in their depths he saw a tumult of emotions, too many to name. "The grimoire," she said. "It's gone."

Osric's heart lurched. He should be feigning ignorance, trying to cover his tracks, but he found that he couldn't. Not when he saw the tears glistening in her eyes, the raw pain on her face. He had caused her quite enough suffering already.

"The grimoire is gone?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral. "Are you certain?"

Hali nodded, her lower lip trembling. "I . . . I was hoping that it was all a mistake. A misfile, or one of the pages falling out. But it's gone, Osric. The grimoire is gone."

He rose to his feet, pulling Hali up with him. "Let me help you look. Maybe there's something we're missing."

She nodded, and together, they began to search.

"It doesn't matter," Osric said at last, the words dry as ash in his mouth. "Even if they managed to decrypt a single message, it won't be enough. They still need to locate the Hammer of Earthblood, and the grimoire is only a partial key. Without the right book cipher to match it to, they're at a dead end."

Hali paused in her frantic searching, and turned to him with one eyebrow arched. "And how do you know that, exactly?"

Osric's heart stuttered in his chest. "I've done my research. The Obsidian Circle is a patient and cunning enemy, and they have been seeking the Hammer for centuries. They will not be able to harness its power without the proper key."

Hali regarded him for a long moment, her expression shrewd. "That's an awful lot of information for a secretive organization that's been hunting for this artifact for centuries."

"I . . ." Osric's voice trailed off, and he cursed himself for his slip. He needed to do better than that, if he was going to convince her to stay away. "It's well-known amongst the Emberforged. They've long sought the power our kind wield as our birthright. So it seems a reasonable enough guess."

It was a lie, a flimsy one, but he hoped that it would be enough to assuage her fears. The truth—that he had no idea how much progress the Circle had made in their search, that he was amply aware of how dangerous they could be—was something that she did not need to know.

Osric felt his heart sink. She had every right to be suspicious of him, to be angry. He had promised to keep her safe, and yet here she was, her shop ransacked, the grimoire stolen. He had brought the danger that was now lurking right outside, and no amount of apologies would be enough to make it right.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words feeling painfully inadequate. "I . . . I'll help you look, just in case . . . ?"

It was a fool's errand, but it was better than facing her pained expression.

They searched in silence, the tension between them thick and cloying. Osric's every movement felt weighed down by guilt, by the unspoken question that hung in the air. How could you let this happen?

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they had searched every corner of the shop. There was no sign of the grimoire, no clue as to who had taken it. Hali let out a frustrated groan, and sank down onto a stool behind the counter.

"I need a drink," she said, her voice raw. "You want one?"

Osric hesitated. He knew that he should go, that he was the last person she wanted to see right now. But he couldn't leave her like this, her eyes red-rimmed with tears. He had brought this danger to her doorstep, and he would be damned if he wasn't going to see it through.

"Sure," he said, and joined her behind the counter.

She passed him a glass and a bottle of dwarven firewhiskey, and he poured himself a generous measure. The alcohol burned on the way down, but he welcomed the pain, the searing heat that matched the turmoil in his heart.

"I don't know what to do," Hali said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I can't go to the city watch. They'll never believe me, not about the Obsidian Circle, not about any of this. And I can't just sit here and do nothing, not when I know the danger that's out there."

Osric reached out, and placed a hand over hers. Her skin was cool to the touch, and he felt a jolt of warmth, of protectiveness. He may not have known her for long, but he knew that she was a fighter, that she would not back down from a challenge.

"You don't have to face this alone," he said. "We'll figure something out. Together."

She turned to him, and in the dim light of the shop, her eyes were shining. "Together," she echoed.

She set down her glass, and before he knew what was happening, she had wrapped her arms around his neck. She stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his, and all the air rushed out of his lungs. He could taste the salt of her tears, and he wanted to drink them down, to swallow her pain.

He ought to stop her, tell her that this was a terrible idea. But the pull between them was too strong, the undercurrent of longing that had been building between them too powerful to resist. He deepened the kiss, and she melted against him, her body fitting perfectly against his.

They stumbled towards the back of the shop, leaving the mess and the broken shards of the door lock behind them. Hali's hands were fumbling with the laces of his tunic, and he reached for the hem of her blouse, tugging it free from her trousers. He wanted to feel her skin against his, to banish the darkness and the doubt that threatened to consume him.

She pushed the tunic from his shoulders, and it joined the pile on the floor. Her hands traced the lines of his rune tattoos, sending sparks dancing along his skin. He groaned into her mouth, and lifted her up, settling her on the worktable.

They broke the kiss, and Osric's breath was coming in ragged gasps. He looked down at Hali, at the flush on her cheeks, the fire in her eyes, and for a brief, beautiful moment, all thoughts of the Obsidian Circle, of the mission, of the path that lay ahead, were banished from his mind.

He was here, with her, in this moment, and he was going to hold on to it for as long as he could.

Osric took his time undressing Hali, savoring every moment as he peeled away the layers that separated them. His fingers trembled slightly as his hands fumbled with the ties of her trousers, and he marveled at the way her hips swayed as she stepped out of them. Her undergarments were next, and he caught his breath at the sight of her naked body, pale and perfect in the flickering candlelight.

Hali, for her part, was far from shy. She reached for the fastenings of his trousers, her fingers deft and sure. Osric shivered as the cool air hit his heated skin, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness. He wasn't used to being the one on display, and he shifted uncomfortably as Hali's eyes raked over him.

But instead of the revulsion or disgust he had feared, there was only desire in her eyes, and a hint of mischief. "Well, look what we have here," she purred. "A cute little cock for me to play with."

Osric felt his cheeks flush, but it was a different kind of heat this time, one that pooled low in his belly. Hali's words were like a balm to his soul, and he marveled anew at how well she seemed to understand him.

She sank to her knees in front of him, and he gasped as her warm mouth engulfed him, her tongue swirling around his sensitive clit. He threw his head back, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure, as she continued her ministrations, her hands roaming

As Hali's warm, wet mouth engulfed him, Osric's senses reeled with pleasure. Her tongue danated around his length, teasing and tormenting every sensitive inch. His hips bucked involuntarily as she took him deeper, her lips sealing around him, and he bit his lip to stifle a moan. He didn't want to rush this, didn't want this moment to end.

Hali's hands roamed his body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Her nails raked lightly down his chest, and then she was teasing apart his folds, prodding at his entrance. Osric's toes curled in ecstasy, and he gripped the edge of the worktable for support.

"Hali," he panted, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Hali, you're driving me crazy."

She looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire, and he knew she was enjoying this just as much as he was. Slowly, she withdrew her mouth, her lips shiny with his arousal, and Osric thought he might combust on the spot.

"Good. I want you to feel every single second of this."

Before he could respond, her mouth was on him again, her tongue curling and flicking around his node, and this time, she added her fingers to the mix. Her finger thrust into his cunt, first one, then two, and he gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily.

Hali chuckled, the vibrations sending shivers coursing through him. "I take it you like that?"

Osric's world narrowed to the sensations coursing through his body. Hali's rough tongue on his little cock, her talented tongue swirling around him, her fingers plunging into his cunt. He was teetering on the edge of ecstasy, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer.

"Hali," he gasped. "I'm... I'm going to..."

She responded by sucking him harder, her fingers curling inside him, and that was all it took. Osric's climax crashed over him like a tidal wave, his walls convulsing around Hali's fingers as she sucked his clit. He cried out, his hips bucking uncontrollably, and his seed spilled onto Hali's waiting tongue.

As the intensity of his orgasm began to subside, Osric collapsed against the worktable, his chest heaving. Hali stood, her lips swollen and glistening, and she leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

In the aftermath, they lay entwined on the floor, the shop's wreckage forgotten. Hali traced the lines of Osric's rune tattoos with a tenderness that threatened to shatter his carefully crafted control. She had been right all along, to suspect him, to fear the danger that his quest for the artifacts had brought to her door. And yet here she was, in his arms, her fears and suspicions melting away.

"You deserve better than this," he said hoarsely.

Hali propped herself up on one elbow, and looked down at him, her eyes soft. "I deserve a lot of things. But right now, I just want the truth. About the Obsidian Circle, about the coded messages, about everything."

She reached up, and brushed a lock of hair from his face. "I need to know what I'm up against. And I need to know that you're with me, and not against me."

Osric's heart clenched in his chest. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to unburden himself of the terrible truth. But he knew that he couldn't. Not when it would put her in even greater danger, when it would only drive her away.

"I'm with you," he said, his voice thick. "I promise. I just need to figure some things out."

Hali's expression wavered for a moment, her disappointment evident. But then she nodded, and a steely resolve settled over her features. "All right. But not too long. We're in this together, remember?"

Osric pulled her back down into his arms, and held her close. "Together," he echoed. But even as he said the words, he knew that there was one truth he could not share with her. The biggest obstacle to her quest for answers was him.

And he was not sure that he could change that.