Ruein: Fires of Haraden: Action/Adventure Necromancy Series (Books of Ruein Book 2) by G.O. Turner (interesting books to read in english txt) 📕

He pointed with his lantern hand. “There.”

“What?” Liv squinted into the dark. “The clump of pines?”

Clipping the compass shut, Leafar repocketed. “If’n you’re looking for the sun, it’s about a gobtillian leagues off that direction. We won’t be seeing it again.”

With a rustle to Liv’s side, Twigs sat up. “Ah, Leafar on rounds? Must be the morrow.”

Leafar surveyed the three. “Close enough. Is everyone up for a good word then?”

A couple Nurskers came behind the resting carrybou. They prodded with sticks, prompting them to rise and shed their accumulated snow. This also dropped Ceer’s fur encasement, since he’d been propped against one.

Thick half-orc arms stretched out as he uprighted himself. His tusked jaw rounded over as he chewed at his morning breath. Still seated, he looked down on the lantern-wielding gnome.

“Yes. Well.” Leafar thumped his mitten against his thigh. “We’re just half a day away now. That’s good, right?”

Liv got to her feet. She stretched and offered a half-hearted, “Yay.”

Ruein eyed her sister. Guess the cold was having its way with her as well. Ruein said to Leafar, “Good words are often couched in something. There’s more?”

“Yes, well. From here on out, everything’s going to be all white. Ha! Literally. Ya see, I set camp here for a reason. This is as close as we get before the north turns against travelers. Once we get underway, we’ll be entering the ‘Wandering White.’ Wind and snows so heavy you’ll not be able to tell earth from sky.”

A Nursker approached Leafar. Behind the shoreman, two lengths of shipping rope ended in harness clamps. The gnome dismissed him with a wave toward the oil wagon before continuing, “Hells, even the carrybou don’t know what way to go. It’s why we tether together, and why I’m here. Behold, the only gnome what’s got the path to Haraden.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” said Ruein.

“Well, you better.” Leafar thumbed at himself. “At least me. There’s a reason Haraden is not on a map. The Wandering White is a perfect ward. It surrounds the Realm. Outside of a hand before your face, or maybe the wagon before you, it’s an unending blizzard. Try and chart the vastness of white on white. It’s not going to happen.”

Twigs scratched at his scalp. “So then, what would you have us do?”

“Outside of outfitting wagon sleds? Pretty much nothing. All you really gotta do is hold on and not fall off. That’s gonna be kinda important, if ya think about it, you being on the ass-end of things. Get separated from the caravan and that’s it. You’re lost. Might as well just bury yourself. Nothing comes out of the White.”

Ceer leaned. “Nothing?”

“Well…so long as you have the good sense to stick with our caravan. We will.”

“I’ve a question.” Liv’s headdress reaffixed, she lifted her coat hood. “What sort of Stygian hell is Haraden…to be founded way the fuck out here?”

Leafar smiled back. “Yes. Well, some questions are best self-answered.”

“Urgh?” Ceer’s jaw went askew.

Twigs pat at the half-orc. “He’s saying, ‘You’ll see.’”

With a heel-to-toe sway, Leafar addressed everyone. “So, who’s the lucky one to have my guidance on how to properly sleigh their wagon?”

“Slay?” Ceer’s brow bunched.

“You’ve me.” Ruein stepped forward. She glanced over Liv, Twigs, and Ceer. “Enjoy what time you have by the fire. Sounds like it’ll be a while before we’ll have warmth again.”

“Small blessings.” Liv smirked at the flames. She lowered onto her knees, settling into her reverent position. Taking the cue, Ceer and Twigs went about bundling their bedding.

Ruein began her drudge back to the wagon, Leafar following in her wake. She peered ahead to the busywork of the Nurskers; even the stout one lent aid. Hardened faces grimaced through the cold, hitching up carrybou and tethering wagons together.

Odd, their relationship to Leafar.

Yet now these stern people made more sense. There was a hesitancy against riling their diminutive guide. Without him, they’d lose trade with the only wealthy state in the region. It gave him a unique position for this place.

Ruein called over her shoulder, “How is it you’ve garnered such a task, leading a caravan across the end of the earth?”

Leafar huffed, keeping pace. “Oh, skills. I’ve unique skills. Without me, Haraden wouldn’t have acquired such refined appetites. Harvests of the seas may be a way of life for Nursk. To them, it’s just fish. To Haraden…fish are luxury. I’ve plenty to profit in bridging that difference.”

“So you’re not from Haraden?”

“No. Happened upon the right circumstances. Saw the opportunity and just the right nook to call my own.”

The two paused before the oil wagon. The Nurskers departed with respectful waves to their guide. He acknowledged with a nod and motioned for Ruein to follow.

After passing under the deer, Leafar popped back out the other side. He raised an upturned thumb. “S’all good. Those two ropes tie the whole caravan together. Even if one should give out, you’ll still have the other as backup. Now we just need you to lighten the load off these wheels.” He directed his lantern to illuminate just under the wagon racks. “See those long planks with the curved heads? Yank those on down, and I’ll show ya how best to situate.”

Ruein unwound the cord holding the first clasp. Leaving the wood seated within the open bracket, she made her way to the back of the wagon. Already the thawed moisture within her was stiffening. Her snowed boot-crunch provided cover enough.

She began to unwind the second cord.

Then sensed it again.

Distant…hovering…eyes upon her.

Ruein focused in, honing to everything around. Shut out the gusts, the grunts of deer. Was there more? It came as a faint squinch. A compacting drift from behind. She turned and stared.

There were no trees on the trail. Hell, there was no trail. The full night of blanketing snow and winds had erased their tracks. Yet, something did move on the verge of her senses, a vague whiteness against the distant blank. That, and a black smudge just above the snow’s surface.

It roved there for a moment.

The whiteness