The Ring of Winter - James Lowder [84]
Artus's initial impression of the hut's decor had been quite accurate. Almost everything in the place was made of stone, or was used to prop up a stone, or was part of some intricate experiment focused, unsurprisingly, on a stone. Glass tubing wound around chunks of crystalline feldspar. Uncut rubies and emeralds churned in beakers full of bubbling liquid. Large rocks served as tables and chairs, though one thick wooden slab was laid across a rock near the door. On it were strewn tools for delicate engraving and dozens of gems, much like the ensorceled carnelian.
And in the center of the hut, as Artus had first noted, stood a monstrous chunk of some sort of indeterminate stone. In a few places, T'fima had carved runes into this central boulder. Mostly, though, it was simply massive and untouched.
A short, fat man waddled around the boulder, as flabby as his furnishings were hard. His eyes were full of barely restrained anger, his mouth gasping open and closed like a beached fish. From the mass of tightly curled hair atop his head to the clenched toes of his bare feet, the man radiated a violent challenge. When he got close to Artus, he stopped and planted his hands on his hips. He trembled like a volcano preparing to erupt before he said, "Well? Why were those fellows spying on me-the goblins and that human?"
The words burst out like magma, full of ready condemnation. Artus was taken aback for a moment. When he gathered his wits, though, his reply was cool and precise.
"The human-whose name is Kaverin Ebonhand-obviously heard from the Batiri you are an important man," Artus said flatly. T'fima's title of Ras meant his prestige rivaled that of a duke in the North. "He must have been watching your camp to see who came and went. Lord Rayburton happened to visit at the wrong time."
"But why take Rayburton?" Ras T'fima asked.
"Kaverin followed me to Chult. He's looking for Lord Rayburton, mostly because of this artifact he was supposed to have-the Ring of Winter."
That comment made T'fima pause. "Never heard of it," he blared, then narrowed his eyes. "Then you're to blame for those goblins lurking around here, tramping through my garden?"
From a darkened corner near the door, Kwalu said, "The stranger may have brought trouble on his heels, but any problems you have with the Batiri are your own doing. You can come back inside the walls of the city any time you wish. After all, you are still a bara, even if you don't act like one."
Artus expected that comment to draw a bitter outburst from T'fima. It didn't. Instead the sorcerer cocked his head and listened for something on the roof.
The explorer looked up. "What's-"
Neyobu dashed into the hut. Artus watched, amazed, as the cat leaped from stone table to stone chair without disturbing anything, then scrambled up the large boulder. Before the explorer could finish his question, Neyobu disappeared through a hole onto the roof, a black blur against the bright sky. The commotion that broke out on the tin part of the roof was loud, but brief. An instant later, the cat dropped through the hole again. He held the corpse of a leather-winged albino monkey firmly in his fangs.
Kwalu detached himself from the shadows to examine the strange catch. "It's not one of Ubtao's beasts," he said, taking the monkey from Neyobu.
"It belonged to Kaverin," Artus said. "He bought the thing from a mage in Tantras. He uses-er, used-it to spy on people." He lifted the monkey's head. "I think he could see through its eyes."
"Lay the thing out on the floor," T'fima ordered. "Spread it out flat on its back."
As Kwalu and Artus arranged the winged monkey, the sorcerer went to the wooden-topped table and snatched up a carving pick and two small pieces of colored quartz with a waxy tinge. He scratched a few runes into each of the stones. "The beast is recently enough dead that it will still be linked to its master," the sorcerer