The Secrets of Those Before (The Saga of Those Before Book 2)

In times long past, Those That Came Before were wiped from the face of the world. They left only echoes, secrets, the bones of massive ancient cities, and Artifacts of terrifying power. It is in their shadow that the Folk have lived for thousands of years. These Folk have lifted kingdoms of stone and iron, courage and magick.
Yet, a darkness rises: horrific beasts that kill by the hundreds. Tall as houses, with shells of the thickest armor, these terrible demonic creatures are all the more dreadful that when slain, it is discovered they are all Hollow inside.
This was the exact thought that came to the front of Iam’s mind as he poured over the thick book in his lap atop his pony. He had been reading and rereading the text on the magick of Shadow ever since he had liberated it from–
He slapped the book closed in disgust and slid it into the large sling bag within which he carried the thing. Inside the pouch was another book. It was a book with a hole in it made to fit the blade of the Glaive precisely and lock it to the stone where it waited for a Guardian to come. It was a book with thirteen locks, and Iam had not been able to open a single one yet.
“Ha!” Maverus barked. “You’re getting sick. Told you. Reading while riding. Who ever heard of doing such a thing?”
Iam tossed him a withering gaze. He could not grasp this part of magick, Shadow, despite all his talent at the subject in all other areas. Shadow was never talking about a thing but instead the lack of a thing, and he just couldn’t understand it. “So now, after a hundred miles and months of riding with a book open, NOW I am getting nauseous from reading in the saddle?”
“ It just took a while, that’s all.” Maverus smiled knowingly. “The Thirteen Maji were the most powerful casters who ever lived, but you don’t hear about them reading from ponyback on their adventurers.”
Iam rolled his blue eyes, and tried not to smile at his clownish companion. He and Maverus had departed the Fox Vale over a year ago, and the road had changed them both. They had left as kits, but now they were becoming adult Foxes.
Snowy white and only eighteen, Iam was starting to lose his gangly coltishness. He was becoming taller, filling out with the lean muscle of an adult Fox male. However, he was still dwarfed by the almost comically tall sword tied like a staff in the reinforced sheath to the pommel of his pony. His leg was always in contact with the Glaive. It had to be. In his hand it felt like a willow switch and hit like a mattock. Without his touch, the sword would become as heavy as a boulder and would likely pull his mount to the ground, and the poor animal had enough to deal with. At least it wasn’t as bad off as the one pulling their wagon of supplies.
He had claimed the weapon from the temple and marked himself as Guardian of his people. If only he had known it would take him so very far away from home. Iam looked at the flowing leaf designs of the crosspiece and acorn pommel and caressed it absently, feeling the spirit of the sword shiver inside like a war dog straining at the leash as it offered him magick like a river pouring over a cliff.
He pulled back his hand slowly, but the rush of power made him tingle. It heightened his senses to everything around him. He could smell the fallen leaves of the forest, reappearing now that the snows were receding, and hear the sharp birdsong of avians that flooded back to their homes now that winter had finally fled. As they rode into a small clearing, he felt something… else.
He blinked and shook his head, but it was still there. He frowned as he slowed his pony to a stop and dismounted, holding the Glaive like a staff in its sheath in one hand while smoothing out his traveling robes once firmly on the ground.
“Food?” asked Maverus, his ears perking up. “I think we are out of sausages, but I could go for some dark bread slathered in bacon grease, maybe toasted over a small fire?”
Iam cast him a wary eye as the dark Fox slid easily from the back of his mount and bounced on the balls of his feet, armor squeaking. While Iam was dressed under his robes in thick leathers to ward off a glancing blow, Maverus had sold off the ungainly, amateurish armor they had been given at the beginning of their journey. Now he wore Hound Folk armor made of steel banded segmentata. The design was far sleeker and less cumbersome, but rubbing plates did squeak and grind.
Since childhood, Mav had been taller than Iam, but the last year of hard living and constant exertion had left him filling out much like his father. Now he was only slightly taller but far more muscular with shoulders becoming broad and powerful. Charcoal and black fur turned him into a shade among the shadows of the towering trees on every side. No longer a kit, he was growing into an adult Fox, but it did nothing to dampen his spirit. He grinned at Iam for a moment, then his face fell. “No to food, then?”
Iam pointed with a jerk of his chin down the minuscule road only as wide as a reasonable footpath. “We are almost to a town.”
Maverus smiled; there had been many weeks on the open road since leaving the Republic of the Hounds. “Fantastic! I could use something other than creek water to drink, and I’m all for a heaping plate of sausages.” Mav paused for a moment to catch his breath as Iam began the laborious task of unbuckling the Guardian Glaive from the mount for his saddle and affixing a belt to slide it over his shoulders. He gave up after a moment, as he always did, and settled for carrying it as a staff. Mav was looking into the woods, sniffing, and then finally threw up his hands. “Wait, I’ve seen no sign. How do you know where the town is?”
Iam squinted his sharp, Fox features in concentration. He felt the flow of magick all around him, listening to the eddies in the currents, looking for shadows. Maverus, magickally inclined like all Fox Folk, made a small ripple. On Iam's person were several bits and bobs that made tiny breaks in the flow, and several dark pieces in an enchanted leather pouch hung round his neck that leaked liquid blackness into the aether. In his hand was the Glaive, and it was like a surging whirlpool, constantly filling with magick and eagerly looking to unleash it on anything Iam might desire. Several more spots just east of him stood as stones in the water as well. And there was still something else…
“They have wizards, several of them. As powerful as any student of the Hound College. One of them as powerful as one of the professors.”
Those words made Mav pause. “Are they friendly?”
Iam ached a little to hear him say that. The boy who had left the Fox Vale would never have even questioned he would be received with anything other than open arms verging on celebration. They had learned a lot in the last year. “I can tell there is magick, but not how they will feel about us.”
Mav gestured to the Glaive. “Maybe we should look a bit less threatening.”
Iam took the reins of his plain brown pony and shrugged, blinking pale blue eyes slowly. “I think the ancient Artifact of Those Before is going to cause a stir no matter what we do. I think I prefer having it in my hand. No, leave your bow be. This will be over too fast to string it. Just keep your sword handy. Do you remember those counter spells I taught you?”
Mav said, “Sure,” in a fashion Iam took to mean “No” as he took his sword belt from the pommel of his own pony and buckled it on. Magick may have been in Mav’s blood but was not his preference.
Iam sighed, feeling the tug again that he had missed something. Then his inner eye cleared for just a half breath and he was chilled. He kept his voice calm and addressed Mav in the tongue of the Hounds instead of Fox. “We are just here to talk, we have important news for them they will want to hear. Just stay near and look… friendly.”
Mav’s face quirked, obviously wondering why his pale partner would tell him why they were here, for they both well knew why they were here. He shrugged and kept his voice breezy, replying in the same language. “Why Iam, there is no friendlier person than myself!”
Which was true, all things being equal. It was then, however, that a small voice called from the brush in Hound. “Stand fast and be recognized!”
Mav looked to Iam and the wizard nodded slightly, reassuringly he hoped. Out of the brush came a goat. Not one of the Goat Folk on two legs, but a goat on four. It was being ridden by a brown Mouse, barely a foot tall and dressed in dull, mottled robes covered in glittering symbols. She was so small, but rode with all the dignity of a Hound cavalry general. Tucked under her arm was a short wand-like stick festooned with intricate runic patterns. Iam could feel the symbols on the robe that turned the soft fabric on the inside into something hard as steel on the outside. The lance wand crackled with fiery potential. “I am Lady Pennyworth. You trespass on my lands. State your business here, predator.”
Iam opened his mouth, but Mav ran right over his words with, “Trespass is such an ugly word, don’t you think? I mean it is a road, isn’t it? It’s meant to ridden on by travelers and you can plainly see we are traveling, right? We may be riding a little off the road, granted, but it’s not like we have a choice.”
Lady Pennyworth opened her mouth to protest, but Mav just blathered on. “In fact, we’d like to lodge a complaint. It’s not like it was possible for the ponies to keep just to the road, and if you wanted–”
Iam watched the familiar pressure build in Pennyworth. At last she burst, a hissing kettle on the fire. “Silence!”
Mav often had this effect on people.
The Foxes complied, Mav with a little wince, but then they were stuck staring at one another. Pennyworth dismounted, dropped the reins of the goat and stepped on them in the underbrush, telling her mount to stay. She was a small and brown, with red-gold locks of hair plaited in a complex pattern. She took two steps forward to make sure that the two Foxes, who towered three feet above her, knew she did not fear them.
“Why do you carry an Artifact on my lands?”
Iam nodded at her, feeling her magickal fire easily and wondering how she had dimmed it so completely. “We are from the Fox Vale many months ride to the north and west. This Glaive has protected my people for centuries, and is carried by the Guardian of our community. I have left my people because we repelled the attack of a mighty foe, and we fear they are coming for all Folk of all Nations. They have proven us correct; they have since attacked the Hounds. We bear grave news for the leaders of every kingdom we pass through, and yours as well.”
Iam had practiced in his head, and had done so for weeks, how to deliver the most news with the fewest words. Just a few months ago they had been hailed as heroes by the capital of the Hounds for helping fend off an attack by an army of the Hollow Things, but the first meeting did not go well.
Pennyworth frowned, shaking her head. She then looked to the Glaive, then to the white Fox that carried it. His blue eyes met her black.
“And if you mean trouble?”
Iam waggled the hilt of the sword, held as a staff. “If we meant trouble, you would have known that already. Let us deliver our news and be on our way. We can tell it to you, to your priests, or to your ruler. We have more to see on our way to the Drake Swamp.”
Pennyworth barked, a brash noise out of a throat so small. “Ha! You will see the rolling hills of the Hares next, Fox. They will not be happy to hear dire news, the cowards. But we are Mice, and we will hear you with bravery in our hearts.”
Iam bowed. “And we thank you.”
Mav grimaced. “And perhaps a bed, bath, and sausages for our news?”
Pennyworth gave him a skeptical look. “We can feed you, but bathing and bedding…?” Iam cast Mav a wry smile to which Mav wore a confused expression. She continued, “Your names and titles?”
“I am Iam, Guardian of the Fox Vale and a student of the Hexenschloss, the Hounds’ College of Magick.” Iam bowed his head, respectfully.
Mav grinned and hiked his thumb at Iam. “I’m Maverus. Hero. I travel with him.”
Pennyworth arched a lowercase eyebrow. “Wizard Iam and Jester Maverus, then. Follow me.”
She mounted her goat, which immediately perked up at the chance for action, and Maverus followed suit, grumbling a bit at her choice of titles for him. Iam, however, stayed with feet firmly on the forest floor. She looked at him expectantly.
Iam shook his head. “It would truly be a shame to leave before everyone was properly introduced.”