The Tears of Kas̆dael

When she reached a fork in the path, Gūla nudged her tsussîm to the left. They followed along the bank of a small creek whose waters, though covered by a thin crust of ice, gurgled merrily beneath the surface. They passed one miniature fort after another, each one nearly identical save for the colorful pennants that hung from their walls decorated, not that he recognized their House banners.

The Djinn didn't turn aside, though, to any of the Moon-kissed hills forts. Instead, she left them all behind, until nothing remained before the unbroken expanse of wilderness save for a cluster of shabby-looking camps pitched by the edge of the forest. “So why is this powerful mage out here in the boondocks, instead of one of those palisades?” He asked Gūla.

“She’s a powerful mage, but her house, the House of the Eighteenth Daughter, is only a minor one.”

“The eighteenth daughter?” Jasper rubbed his chin speculatively. “I admit I don’t remember how many daughters Damqa had - seven, eight? - but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t eighteen.”

“No, you remember correctly,” Gūla confirmed. “There are only fourteen major Houses in Dūr-Yarha - seven daughters, three sons, and three of Damqa’s grandchildren. However, several minor houses also claim descent from Damqa. The House of the Eighteenth Daughter was founded by one of the grandchildren unfortunate enough to inherit a plot of land that was both unfertile and bereft of any valuable resources. They’ve continued in obscurity ever since, though perhaps in their society being unimportant has perks of its own.”

She left the thought unfinished, but Jasper grasped her meaning easily. Unlike the other Moon-kissed encampments, the camps of the minor houses hadn’t been turned into miniature fortresses. “They don't have to worry about a dagger in the back?” he surmised.

“Precisely. For the most part, the minor houses are left out of the larger house's deadly quarrels. They may not have much power, but at least they're safe.”

Angling her tsussîm toward the nearest of the small camps, they reached their destination a few moments later. Unlike the large pennants hanging outside of the Moon-kissed forts, the little camp was marked by nothing more than a single triangular banner whose dark green background sported two deer with necks entwined. A small barricade had been set up at the entrance of the camp, but there were no guards on duty to stop them, and Gūla brushed past it without pausing.

Heading straight for one of the largest tents in camp, the firebird captain called out loudly as she approached. “Sels̆arrat? You in there? I have something I think you’ll want to see?”

Silence was their only greeting, and after a moment, Gūla pulled the flap aside and poked her head in. “Strange, there’s no sign of her.”

“Are you looking for Sels̆arrat?” Jasper spun around to face the man who had snuck up behind them.

“Yes, have you seen her around?”

The Moon-kissed stood nearly as tall as him. His skin was as pale as the moon itself, and coupled with the long black hair and dark eyes, made him look almost like a vampire from some cheesy gothic movie, though the rueful grin he offered Jasper broke that illusion. “Can’t say that I have.” He inclined his head to the left in respect. “I’m Lord Attalû, commander of this little camp. May I ask why you are looking for my mage?”

Gūla pulled her head out of the tent and joined Jasper. “I’m Captain Gūla of the firebirds, and this is Commander Yas̆peh. I'm sure you saw the fires last night?" The man nodded his head, and she continued. "Commander Yas̆peh's men captured one of the saboteurs, and they carried a strange contraption we were hoping Sels̆arrat could identify.”

“The fires did seem different than the ones before,” the man agreed. “Unfortunately, I don’t know where Sels̆arrat is right now, but I might be able to point you in the right direction. Follow me." Pivoting sharply on his heels, the Djinn marched them over to the only other decent-sized tent in the camp.

The House of the Eighteenth Daughter's lack of wealth was apparent in the scant furnishings decorating Attalû’s abode: a bed, a desk, and a small washbasin composed the whole sum of his possessions, and he flashed an apologetic smile as he led them over to the desk where a small map was sprawled. "I'm afraid I have no seats to offer you."

Gūla waved his concerns away, and the man turned to the map. “Food prices have risen so high in the city, we’ve been forced to trade with some of the local villages,” Attalû explained, pointing to one of the markers on the map. “Ḫengal has been the most productive. It’s a bit further than we’d like, about fifteen miles away, but has plenty of cheap grain.”

“What does this have to do with Sels̆arrat,” Gūla interrupted him.

“I was getting to that,” Attalû replied. “On one of our recent trading trips, some of our men overheard the locals talking about a nearby crypt that a local boy had fallen into. They were able to rescue the lad but were too scared to venture deeper within.”

Turning away from the table, Attalû sat down on the edge of the bed and heaved a deep sigh. “I’m afraid that’s where Sels̆arrat has gone.”

“She didn’t tell you where she was going?” Gūla questioned.

“No, but I’m fairly certain that must have been her destination.” Attalû gestured at the small tent with a wry grin. “As you can see, Commander Yas̆peh, my house has more dignity than wealth. Sels̆arrat is my younger cousin, and she knows we lack the money to offer a proper dowry for her. I imagine when she heard of the crypt, she saw an opportunity to supplement her coffers.”

“Why haven’t you gone after her yourself?” Jasper cut in.

The Moon-kissed shrugged. “Sels̆arrat may not be the heir of my House, but she is the strongest mage we have, at least in the younger generation. She is used to doing what she wants, but it would still be a problem if I gave her a direct order and she refused to obey. I don’t want to cause unnecessary division in my House so,” he shrugged helplessly, “what can I do? It’s best just to overlook her temporary absence.”

Gūla let out an exasperated sigh. “Shamsha’s rays, nothing can go easy with this investigation. Very well, we’ll go after her.” She glanced up at Jasper. “You will come, won’t you?”

“Why not?” he agreed, “but if we’re going to investigate a crypt, it might be better if we had a little backup.”

The firebird captain chewed on her lip for a moment before nodding her head reluctantly. “I suppose you're right. But I…” she hesitated a moment, sparing a glance for Attalû, who was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening in, and lowered her voice. “I don’t have anyone I can ask. While I still have the rank of ‘captain,' when I was assigned to this investigation, Turzu removed all of the troops under my command. Said that since I was on 'special duty,' I couldn't look after them properly. It’s part of why I had to recruit you.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing I’ve got you covered,” Jasper replied with a grin. “Attalû, can you spare one of your men for an hour? I’d like to send a messenger back to my camp. Want to get a few reinforcements before we go look for your cousin.”

Attalû agreed readily, and the two were left to their own devices while they waited for reinforcements. Gūla had certain suggestions of what to do with that time, but Jasper demurred, not quite sure how he felt about the fetching but manipulative Djinn. Thus, the wait proved more uncomfortable than expected as Gūla sulked next to him, and he was quite relieved when he saw the white fur of Keresh flashing in the distance.

It didn’t look for Tsia and Ihra to reach the Moon-kissed camps, and the introductions were brief. Gūla wasn’t in a chatty mood, and Ihra and Tsia were less interested in her than they were in chiding Jasper for having left without them.

“You could have just woken us up, you know?” Ihra complained.

“I thought you could use the sleep - and besides you would have been welcome at the camp,” Jasper protested.

Ihra seemed unconvinced, but Gūla did come to his rescue. “Yas̆peh is right. Turzu only allowed him inside because of me, but I doubt that would’ve extended to any guests.” The discussion turned to the general, and the stormy meeting between them, before finally returning to the goal at hand: Sels̆arrat.

“So do we know anything about this crypt,” Tsia asked.

Jasper could only shake his head. “Attalû told us everything he knew, but it wasn’t much. Apparently, it’s a little more than a mile outside the village, but the villagers had no idea it existed until a child fell through the entrance. It’s likely undisturbed but, as far as he knew, none of the villagers had dared to explore it.”

“So no idea if there’s enemies, traps, anything?” Ihra probed.

“If the crypt is old, it’s almost a guarantee there will be danger,” Gūla responded for him. “The northern lords used a wide variety of devices to guard their hoards, but none left them unprotected.”

“Do you think Sels̆arrat is fine?” He asked her.

The captain pondered the question for a moment before responding. “I hope so, but S̆arra was always too impetuous for her good.”

“I didn’t realize you knew her,” Jasper replied quietly. “Is she a friend?”

The Djinn nodded sharply.“Something like that. I’m sure she’ll be fine, though,” she added, the tone of her voice was rather unconvincing. The ride to Ḫengal took longer than expected as, unlike the village they’d encountered on the patrol, Ḫengal was far enough away from the city of Nūr-S̆ams̆a that the royal highway didn’t connect to it. Instead, they were forced to take a winding path through the woods whose boundaries clearly had not been tended during their winter snows.

Fallen trees barred the way at various points and the thick forest made detours difficult. Fortunately, it was nothing a combination of Jasper’s fire and Tsia’s wind blades couldn’t handle, but it slowed their journey enough that the threat of imminent night pressed down upon them when they finally neared the crypt. The entrance was hidden a few hundred years into a forest that bordered one of the fallow fields of a farmer outside Ḫengal. The brush was so thick they were forced to abandon their mountains and continue on foot.

It was easy enough to find the entrance; the place where the boy had fallen through had continued to crumble, aided in part by the villagers’ rescue efforts, and now a nearly twenty-foot-wide hole was opened. Ancient stairs were carved into the earth, too narrow and too deep to be easily navigated. They crept down carefully, clinging to the sides of the pit. At the bottom, the dimming sun was all but swallowed by the immense hole, with only a few shafts of light daring to brush against the crumbling wall that greeted them.

The wall was clearly not natural, built of colossal blocks of a dusky pink stone Jasper couldn’t identify. The facade was wholly unadorned save for the area around the entrance.

The door to the crypt had been a solid wooden door, but the pieces lay shattered on the ground in front of them, a clear sign that Sels̆arrat had passed that way, but Jasper had expected that. What caught his attention was the unusual shape of the frame; significantly wider at the base than at the top, the oddly trapezoidal door was decorated with a thick frieze that ran around its edges. Whatever had once adorned it was nearly worn to a stub, but when he crept closer, he was able to decipher a few of the images. Rather than Djinn, they seemed to depict humanoid beings with widespread wings that might have been Seraphs or perhaps Dorēsah.

Gūla noticed them too, and her face was troubled as she ran a gentle finger over the worn images. “I don’t think the villagers found one of our crypts. This is something much older.”

“More dangerous?” Jasper asked.

The firebird captain shook her head. “More unknown. I’ve never been in a crypt except for my family’s, which of course is still in use, but I’ve at least heard the tales of how the Zaphonites used to protect their chambers. But if this was built by the dorēsah,” she tapped the image reluctantly, “I have no idea what to expect. I didn’t even know they built underground chambers.”

She nodded at the shattered fragments of the door, which stretched into a hall cloaked in shadows. “But it’s clear Sels̆arrat went in, so I guess we’ll be finding out.”