Ruein: Fires of Haraden: Action/Adventure Necromancy Series (Books of Ruein Book 2) by G.O. Turner (best ereader for graphic novels txt) 📗

“Those poor majestic bears!” responded Twigs.

Deflated, Liv dropped her gaze to the snow.

“Oof. You are a good gnome,” Leafar puffed. His eyes wandered a bit before settling on his hands. “I believe…we’ll be adjourning to my carriage. Yes? Look, I’ve breakfast.” He held up the fish.

Ceer leaned in. “That Ceer’s? What’re others eating?”

“Unbelievable.” So many diversions. Anything to steer away from what mattered. Liv threw an arm at the wagon. “What about our cover, the oil?”

Leafar nodded. “Ah, yes. Well…”

Rebundling the fish, he passed them up to Ceer. Leafar pocketed his mittens before sweeping into arcane gestures. So, he’s more than an owner of refilling mugs. A spellcaster as well. Completing his pitched incantation, the gnome gripped a wagon wheel.

A sucking gust tugged at Liv as the towering wagon shifted and diminished into Leafar’s grasp. He turned back to the group, pocketing the minuscule oil wagon in with his mittens.

“Shall we be off?”

Liv blinked again. “You mean, you could have done that all along?”

Leafar stared up through bushy brows. “I’m a caravan lead, not a comfort captain. I don’t see you dumping out all your spells on the regular.”

“Fair point,” said Ruein. She strode past, headed for the caravan’s front.

The two gnomes mounted upon Ceer and turned in her wake. How quick they were to dismiss. Damn. Some things are simply right or wrong. Leafar’s reasons were clear enough. Ruein? She’s a necromancer, but not an amoral one.

Liv took in the empty gulf of snow where the wagon once rested.

The cold gauntlet of her hand pressed against her fur overcoat, to that aching space. The wood of her divine symbol pressed against her breastplate. Let them dismiss. This emblem represented something. All she had to do was hold true, then her path would be unerring. She’d get her answer.

The Lightbringer rounded and struck off for the front.

Each Nursker earned an eyeball-full as Liv regained ground with her team. Bitter cold reflected in the faces settling into their wagons. Amber light flickered from lanterns bound to stanchions. They knew what lay ahead. Townies hunkered down and lashed themselves to each other and their benches. Hardships of icy seas were now going to weather them across the brutal lands ahead.

Ruein called back enough to be heard, “We should focus on our goal. Once we get to our destination, none of this is going to matter. If you still wish to dole out some lesson…” She chanced a glance.

Liv’s glare was all she could muster.

“Fine,” Ruein conceded.

She wasn’t about to blame them all. No. There was just the guilty. Alongside her sister, Liv worked her legs and her fire within. Some things you just don’t let peter out.

Over Liv’s shoulder, Ceer was already tearing into his breakfast. He chomped at his smoked fish. Between chews, he regarded his shouldered friend. “Hmm… Ceer sides with Twigs. Saved bear would be good.”

Twigs lit up. “Really? You’d want to go back?”

“Did Twigs not see?” The big lummox listed on his hip, craning his head. “Ceer had bear in a tusk lock. Hugging way of the mighty Ceer more than any bear. Fur so, so fluffy.”

“Wait. How’s that make you want to save them?”

“Ceer not greedy. Just one. Go good in Wayward School.”

The gnome leaned, squinting him a look.

“For orphans. Good place…” The half-orc straightened his march. “…for fluffy rug.”

Twigs’ eyes grew in their sockets. “Oh, gods. You’d…” His jaw stammered out empty breaths before going slack. He shuddered.

The humble yet sturdy procession of fish and seafare wagons ended where they tied off onto a sizable carriage. Along their travels, Leafar’s lead was most notable in the dark. Festooned with diminutive lanterns, it doubled as their beacon on the trail.

Rather than the standard four wheels, the length was outfitted with a set of four to either side. These were thicker than most, cleated, and shoed within a single long ironwood sled. All of which held the considerable traveling quarters above the snow.

Not previously examined up close, Liv took in its craftsmanship. Damn. This was a sight. Riveting the exterior were columns of molded steel. Caricatures of flaming faces adorned the sizable nailheads. How could someone have bent the curvature of such hardwood? Dark stones plated the arced roofing and a stout chimney jutted from its center.

Liv peered around the front. Considering the weight, it would require a large carrybou team to drag it into motion. Yet, out front, there were none. No beasts of burden. No sign of any driving force. Still, there was a centered bench seat.

Leafar headed up the backside ramp. He paused at the knob and then turned to his guests. “Do take into mind, the accommodations are comfy, but are suited for my preferences. It’s not much, but I call it home.”

He swung the door open and stepped aside. Leafar’s hand offered the way. “Watch your heads and mind your feet. Boot cubbies are to the right.”

An eager Twigs was first through.

The druid had his boots off in a flash. He stuffed them into a shelf, already home to other gnomish footwear. Liv caught a telltale twinkle wash over. She focused as she followed behind. It became clear Twigs boots were not only clean of the outside world but dry as well.

Liv stooped through the entry and righted herself.

Oh, Leafar certainly had a penchant for magical comforts. There was more to the insides than the exterior portrayed. The windowless cabin stretched roomily around, expanding quaint coziness well past what was rational. It’d be cramped for the five of them, but luxurious for a gnome’s life.

Cinnamony warmth enveloped Liv, emanating from a central hearth. Rafters hung above within a short reach. Cabinetry and bookshelves chock-full of his travels. Baskets stuffed with rolled maps were here and there.

Beyond the low ceiling, it was just all too damn big to fit outside appearances.

Liv cocked Leafar an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t know any Thaeans by chance, would you?”

“Heh, might. One or two. Why?”

“No reason.” Liv stowed her boots and made