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

The interior of the building was a stark contrast to the pitted gray exterior. Polished marble floors and the colonnades lined the halls. There were lavish tapestries depicting works as virtues. A representative selection of city dwellers strolled across those floors, garbed in finery.

Liv looked back to the bustling city behind. It was a usual dearth of noise. Turning back to where they strode, it seemed odd to not hear the echoes of boots on tile.

“That can’t be right.” Twigs picked up the pace, jogging to surpass Leafar. He leaned into his approach and called back, “That’s daylight.”

Wait. He was right. The halls were too brilliantly lit. They were looking into the side of a mountain. How could there be—

Crossing the threshold, a tug pulled her step forward. What was that? Liv turned back, her heart beating. The others followed. The courtyard was as they left it, with the carriage surrounded by guards. Yet now, the sounds of the city had been replaced. Here were the missing echo of boots and the voices of a large stone hall.

Twigs dashed for the nearest light source.

“Haha! I knew it.” Jumping back into their hall, Twigs waved them over. “There’s no way for a day to show inside of a volcano. That wasn’t just an entry. We’re in that floating-freak citadel.”

The troupe gathered and gazed from Twigs’ windowsill. For Liv, the view could only ever be breathtaking.

15

The uppermost caverns of the underdark was something Rue had not been afraid to dare. In constructing the city, these citizens had mingled their own ways with the brass of outsiders.

Yet this singular citadel was nothing of that kind. The halls where they stood gleamed in a coppery sheen. Polished marble colonnades ran the length of each passage. Bolted tapestries absorbed neither the footfall echoes nor the reverberant conversations from many directions.

Joining the others at Twigs’ sill, Ruein took in what must be the whole of the Haraden Realm. There was so much to see. The open blue above shifted to purples, pinks, and oranges at the cloud’s edge. The clearness above centered over the entirety of the city below.

From their vantage, the leagues-distant Realm’s keep was easy enough to behold. Casting her view around, she took in the surrounding farmlands and livestock meadows. To an even further distant north, snowfall grew heavier. More than a dusting, the farther she peered, the more obscure the white.

Ruein’s gaze drifted.

Beyond the sights and sounds of this place, there was something more. Some dangled, severed, ephemeral thread dithered at her. She had no difficulty recalling how all this would’ve moved Rue. Yet now, this…this was merely a lay of the land.

“Tambre and timber, behold the best seat in all the Realm!” Twigs climbed up on the ledge. His face bunched as he mulled the view. “Hold up. If there’s no teleporting in Haraden, how’d we—?”

“Monastas, again.” Leafar shrugged. “The coot of a wizard had a lifetime to show his gratitude. That, and probably didn’t wanna have to traipse up and down ladders. So, he fashioned some sort of…uh…gate, I suppose. Takes two to overcome the rift mucking things up. One down there, one up here. Helluva lot simpler to just walk over these days.”

Settling herself onto the sill, Ruein leaned for a better angle. Sulfurous warmth rose from below. Orange waves popped and burbled in the distant volcanic well. Dark splotches of cooler ground scabbed at the gaping mountain maw. A haze wavered over everything, as much from the heat as the escaping gases. Bright globs sprayed across the darkened crust. Much was a wash of action. Indeed, small flames moved about independent of the rock.

Honing in, Ruein made out their shapes. Those flames were miners moving in and out. Were these Leafar’s referred-to azers?

With a neck crick, Ruein gazed up at the rest of the citadel. It was a visual symphony of bronzed-and-brass overlays. Sculpted works that glimmered almost as much from the light below as the sky above. Most of the citadel was stair-stepped levels of balconies, over dwellings. However, there were also several spires offering plummeting views all the way down, much like the one Ruein sat on.

Leafar smiled. “As I said, they recreated their home here. Just on a smaller scale.”

Liv’s brow arched. “You call this smaller?”

“Oh, they shared with me what it’s like back in the Brass City. I can assure you this is gnomish by comparison. That, and you and I can tolerate the heat here.”

“Fuck.” A wet bead rolled off Liv’s brow. “This is almost like the Desolate Chaar. Hate to see what the real deal would be like.”

Behind them, the halls resounded with the drop of metal upon stone. Not the clang of a hammer, but solid footfalls. Drawing everyone’s attention, they turned to the approach.

From the hall’s intersection appeared a metallicized waist-high figure. A flaming beard licked up the sides of his head and swept around the back. Much like tattoos, etchings outlined the shape of his bald pate. Hot burnt-orange pools stared back from deep sockets. The azer flashed an iron-toothed grin.

Dwarflike indeed. Memories of Nanagan’s red beard flickered over Ruein’s mind. Nanagan’s broad grin seemed to peek out at her, through this wreathed-in-fire azer.

He pivoted to Leafar and launched into a graveled dialogue. Apparent eagerness swept over both as the azer sized up their troupe. Clearly not undercommon, Ruein found their ignan-speak solid, forceful.

Though they were not close, the heat of the azer’s proximity was already noticeable.

Leafar finished his ignan greetings and turned back to the group. “Nog here is a patron of the council. He’s to show us the way.”

The bald, plated azer headed back the way he came. Leafar extended an arm in that direction. With nothing more than a moment’s consideration, Liv took the lead behind the azer. Allowing them to pass, Leafar sidled up to his gnomish brethren at the back.

Twigs spoke in a lull, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but azers don’t strike me as all-natural. He appears more