The Tyranny of Ghosts_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [64]
“You want to talk to me,” he said.
A statement, not a question. Ekhaas took the lead. “Yes,” she said. “Do you speak the human tongue?”
Tooth glanced at Geth and Tenquis, then said in that language, “I do.”
“Good.” They’d decided there was no need to reveal the magic in Wrath unless they had to. “We want to hire a guide to take us into the Khraal.”
He must have already assessed and judged them as fit to venture into the jungle because he didn’t hesitate before asking, “Where exactly?”
Ekhaas found an empty table and gestured for him to sit down. Tooth joined them without comment. Ekhaas leaned forward, dropping her voice. “Have you heard of the ruins of a place called Suud Anshaar?”
With generations of mothers using it to frighten their children, the name of Tasaam Draet was common enough among the Dhakaani clans. The tales of his downfall and haunted fortress were more esoteric, though, and Ekhaas didn’t know how well the legends might be known among the lowland Darguuls.
Tooth just narrowed his eyes. He looked like he might spit. “The Wailing Hill,” he said. “Yes, I’ve heard of it. I’ve never laid eyes on it, but hunters tell stories.”
“You know where it is?”
“I know to stay away from it. Anything that howls when it shouldn’t is warning you not to get any closer.” Ekhaas thought he might sit back, then, and declare their conversation over. But he didn’t. “They say people have come looking for it before. Hunters take them in—good hunters who know the Khraal—but nobody comes out. Packs of varags live in that part of the jungle, and they don’t go near the place.”
“What are varags?” asked Geth.
“Savages related to hobgoblins the way shifters are related to lycanthropes,” said Tooth. “Completely fearless—usually.”
“When was the last time someone came looking for Suud Anshaar?” Ekhaas asked.
Tooth shrugged. “Before Lhesh Haruuc, before Arthuun belonged to us. Back when humans picked at the edge of the Khraal.” He looked them over again. “If you want to go there, it will cost you.”
“You’ll take us?” said Tenquis. “After all that?”
A grin showed all of Tooth’s sharp teeth. “Hunters tell stories. If I get you there and come back, I’ll be a legend.” He lowered his voice. “This is my deal: For what you pay me, I swear by Balinor’s blood to take you to Suud Anshaar, but I’m not going in. I’ll wait for you, guide you back, but if you don’t come out of the ruins, I’m leaving.”
Ekhaas understood immediately. If Tooth returned from Suud Anshaar—even if it was as the sole survivor of a doomed expedition—his reputation would be made. She looked to the others. Chetiin and Tenquis nodded, the tiefling a little more slowly than the goblin. Geth grinned.
“I like him,” he said with a nod at Tooth.
“Agreed then,” said Ekhaas.
Tooth’s grin grew even wider. “Good. Now let’s talk about how much I’ll charge you—”
“We’re inflexible on that,” said Chetiin. He held out a small fist. “But I believe this should do.” He opened his fingers to reveal three sparkling straw-colored topazes.
During their journey across Darguun, they’d realized that while they had some money between them, it wasn’t enough to persuade a guide to take them deep into the jungle in search of cursed ruins. Fortunately, Chetiin had the answer. Unraveling the stitching of his belt, he’d revealed a tiny, portable treasure. “For emergencies,” he’d said as he sewed the leather back up.
The grin on Tooth’s face faltered, his eyes going wide in its place. Chetiin closed his fingers again. “When do we leave?” he asked. “Sooner is better.”
Rain came down heavy on a night as black as a traitor’s soul. Deep eaves shielded the windows of the Talenta Hospitality, letting cool air circulate into the busy common room. Lanudo’s guests for the night had finally abandoned the dubious shelter of the open-air taverns for somewhere a little more protected—the halfling circulated through the crowd, making certain that the guests whose rooms leaked worse than usual got extra beer. Sufficiently drunk,