Oberon's Dreams - By Aaron Pogue Page 0,76
and answered the dwarf. “He hasn’t stirred. He makes no sign of progress.”
“Oh, well,” Ogden said with a forced cheerfulness, “these things take time. We’ll know more by tomorrow.”
“We don’t have until tomorrow!” Corin said.
The chieftain shrugged. “I understand you’re worried, but you must consider my position. I have a thousand lives looking to me—”
Corin waved him down impatiently. “I know, I know. I understand your requirements, and I will stay here until Kellen wakes. I only ask that you take Avery on ahead. Have someone show him to the surface so he can take a warning to the king.”
“Why me?” Avery demanded. “You should go. I’ll stay here with Kellen. I’m just as concerned for him as you are.”
Corin rolled his eyes. “No, you’re not!”
“No?” Avery threw a look back toward the wounded soldier, then he turned back to Corin. “Even so. Even so. I do want the sword as much as you do.”
“Not even close,” Corin said.
“I’ll argue with you there. I have every reason to hate Ephitel for what he’s done in the last year.”
“One year?” Corin asked. “Talk to me again when you can claim a thousand.”
Avery stepped back, his jaw hanging. “Honestly?”
“Aye. Maybe more. And all of it a tyranny that I would see undone.”
The gentleman dropped his head and shrugged pathetically. “I won’t contest you then. But even so, the king will not see me.”
“With the news you have, I think he will.”
“Ah, but there’s the catch—until he sees me, he won’t know what news I have.”
“Avery, we don’t have time for this.”
“Then we don’t have time to waste on foolish errands.”
Corin shook his head. “I suspect your sister will already be there. I just need you to take the latest news.”
“But if she’s not…”
Corin caught Avery by the shoulders and turned the thief to face him. He recognized the fear in the other man’s eyes. Avery was out of his element, baffled by the unrecognizable mess his world had become within a few short hours.
Corin remembered that feeling well, and he remembered how he’d overcome it. “Remember who you are. You’re Avery of Jesalich, legendary founder of the Nimble Fingers.”
“Yes, but—”
Corin cut him off. “You want an audience with Oberon? Go and steal one.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
It wasn’t quite so simple as that. Corin and Avery stepped aside, scheming between them as to how the gentleman thief might infiltrate the impenetrable wall the courtiers formed.
“Is there another route into the throne room?” Corin asked. “A servants’ entrance, perhaps?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I never really learned the palace grounds.”
“That is unfortunate. We’ll need deception over stealth, then. Could you manage some distraction?”
Avery only shrugged, his attention fixed on something far away.
Corin ground his teeth. “Avery! This is important!”
“Nothing more in all the world,” Avery said, still not meeting Corin’s eyes.
The pirate sighed. “Perhaps he’ll fall for the same trick twice. He didn’t seem too attentive, either. Announce yourself as a man out of time.”
Avery nodded and strained up on his toes to peer past Corin’s shoulder. “Yes. Yes. There’s never enough time.”
“Or just pretend you have the sword! That might be—gods’ blood, Avery, what has you so distracted?”
Avery flushed red and stammered an apology. Corin spun, expecting to find chests full of dwarven gold or perhaps the legendary sword. Instead, he saw half a dozen dwarven lanterns gathered in a ring to illuminate the injured yeoman.
Kellen was pale as a sheet, his face drawn, his torn clothes now sodden with his blood. Dwarven medics worked around him, fretting ceaselessly, but for all their effort, Corin saw no sign of improvement.
Corin mumbled, “Oh.” He turned back to Avery. “You really do care about Kellen?”
The thief shrugged one shoulder. “Of all of us, he shouldn’t be the one who dies. We watched your fight with Ephitel, you know. We saw it all. The dwarves were waiting to see who would win, and Kellen…” He trailed off, choked up.
“He’ll make it through,” Corin said. “Heroes don’t die like this.”
“He is a hero.” Avery sighed with deep regret. “I called him a coward, just last night, and he proved more a hero than any of us.”
“He’ll come back,” Corin said. “The dwarves are master craftsmen, and their healers are no exception. They’ll bring him back.”
Avery forced a sad smile. Corin sighed. “You stay with him. I’m sure it won’t be long. Bring me the sword.”
Avery wrung his hands. “But you said—”
“No. This is best. I should have seen it from the start. The king will see me before he would