Chương 391: The Tithe Pools

Ch. 391 - The Tithe Pools Simon had to go halfway to Abreese before he found a merchant with the tools he was looking for. That was far enough away that he finally broke down and bought a pony for Varten so they could move from destination to destination that much quicker.

Walking was good for the lad, but if Simon was going to spend weeks investigating something another knight had supposedly already solved, then he wanted the incident resolved one way or the other before he went back to the Broken Tower to be judged for his actions.

Simon only needed a couple of metalworking chisels, a gemstone of decent size, and a bit of copper or silver. Really, any reasonable soft metal would do, but this world hadn't invented hardware stores yet, and he wasn't eager to borrow some blacksmith's workshop. That would only spread rumors. He'd half expected that he'd need to go all the way to the port town, but he didn't really mind that. He'd even get to see his old inn years before it became his, which might be nice.

Still, when he found a jeweler who was willing to let some things go for a good price, Simon stopped going south and turned north again, to only a few complaints from his squire.

"Why'd we come this far if we weren't going to go all the way?" he asked, frustrated.

"You said we were going to see the sea."

"And we will," Simon agreed, "but first we need to capture a Jinn before it hurts anyone else, don't you think?" Varten grudgingly agreed with that, though he did say, "It might not even be there. You told me the other knight thinks he slew it."

"Well, thinking and knowing are two very different things," Simon admonished him, before going on to question him about a great many other things about various monsters to change the topic. Boys in Simon's experience were most bidable when they were fighting with a sword; even his own son had been that way, but Varten had a pension for showing off, and a good memory.

Giving him lists of facts to recite about the proper way to purge a goblin warren, kill a zombie, or determine the guilt of a suspect was nearly as effective, so that was how they spent much of their time traveling. That was doubly true whenever he felt a wave of nostalgia at seeing some familiar place from many lives ago. His squire was good at keeping him anchored in the now during those moments.

With horses, the way back to their destination was quick, but that was just enough time for Simon to sketch out and carve the small circuit he'd planned out. He could have done it in a night, but because he didn't want any uncomfortable questions, he had to tire Varten out with practice, and then work on his project for an hour or two by firelight. This amulet wouldn't be one of the artfully disguised ones he'd made in the past.

There would be no mistaking it as an implement of magic to anyone who was knowledgeable, which meant he'd have to stash it before he returned to the Broken Tower, but that was fine. He could leave it in the sands for all he cared. It only needed to work once. Whether it would or not was the question. Simon had no idea what a Jinn was supposed to be yet.

He'd seen ghosts and demons, and read plenty of stories about fae, but Jinn were a new one on him, which almost certainly meant they were a subcategory of one of the other types. Since he could just as easily imagine them being demons as fae, he devised a plan that he thought would work on both. The gemstone was a simple battery that he'd charge manually, but it would power a single three-dimensional ring-shaped barrier of nullification only four or five feet across.

He thought of it as a ghost trap, though he could no longer remember which movie inspired that reference. He could even imagine how he might tune its strength and size with a couple of small knobs if he had a proper workshop. It was a simple thing, but could be made much more complex. He could have even left out the battery, and it would have worked fine, though that would have forced him to stay inside the circle with whatever he caught, and that struck him as a remarkably unhealthy idea.

After that, he made himself a small dowsing rod with a stick that was already most of the way there, in case they needed to do some hunting, and then he felt ready. Well, you're probably never ready to face a real devil, he corrected himself, but this seemed simple enough. If it were really dangerous, the stories would have been a lot more dramatic than people disappearing under the sand. The two of them saw the Tithe Pools from a ways off.

There was no one camped there, but it was too late in the day to safely approach, so they camped on a rise on the horizon and waited one more day to approach. As they did so, Simon noted the strange ruins and how unlike the other buildings in the area they were. They were monolithic, and distinctive enough that he felt sure these weren't the only ruins like this he'd seen; the ruins he'd found that graffiti in so long ago had been similar.

He'd been hunting centaurs back then, but orcs that wielded lightning would be something he'd remember for a hundred lifetimes. Some part of him had always thought of those ruins as orcish, even though he knew they were no builders, but who the builders were remained a mystery to him, even after all these years. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. That is not the mystery I'm exploring today, he reminded himself, refusing to let himself get distracted.

As they tethered the horses at the water's edge under the noonday sun, Simon said, "Tell me what the plan is, Varten." The boy sighed. Simon didn't blame him for that; he'd only made his squire repeat this half a hundred times in the last couple of days.

"I am to wait here unless you call for me," the boy answered unenthusiastically.

"It's too dangerous for me, and I would only get in the way." Even after repeating it, Simon was unconvinced that the boy believed it and would listen to him, which was why this time he added the final detail that would make him feel useful, even if it didn't prove necessary.

"Correct," Simon agreed, ignoring his squire's apathy.

"But there's just one more thing. I'm tying myself to my mount so that if this desert spirit succeeds in pulling me under, I have a chance. Your job is to be ready and use it to pull me back toward the water, in case things go awry. Can you do that?" That got the boy's attention instantly, and put enough of a gleam in his eye that Simon had to caution the boy to intervene gently if he needed to. He didn't need to be drawn and quartered while he was trying to solve this mystery.

Still, he was sure that just waiting for that moment would be enough for the boy to stay at the ready. Unfortunately, they had a long time to wait. Whatever was going to happen wasn't supposed to happen as long as it was daylight. So, the two waited until sunset and ate a quick cold meal before Simon cautioned the boy one more time as he tied the rope to his waist. He'd hoped that gesture would make him feel better, but it didn't. Instead, his sense of unease only grew as he walked out into the sand.

As he moved toward the ruins he looked about. The angular buildings were mostly intact, but there wasn't enough cover to hide anything too substantial, and there was no obvious danger. He could see no building power or swirling spirits with his sight, either. The scene looked just as it had during the day, save for the darkness.

"Well, it would be pretty funny if Sir Celenger really did solve this problem," he muttered after walking two dozen feet, nearly half the length of his rope.

"If I went all that way for—" Simon was yanked into the desert sand so quickly that he could scarcely close his mouth before he was submerged in it. That didn't stop him from getting dirt up his nose or being made completely blind. Fortunately, he kept hold of his amulet, and even as he was dragged somewhere in the gritty dark, he activated it. That stopped the motion and made something, presumably the Jinn, shriek in rage, but Simon ignored all of that and focused on his own predicament.

Despite all the stories, he hadn't expected the thing to move that fast. When it grabbed him, he expected that it wouldn't even submerge him to his waist before he activated his device. Obviously, that hadn't happened, and he was several feet underground. No, more than that, he said to himself as he reached slowly upward through the soft sand without finding air.

Simon struggled and dug, trying to find direction and purpose, but even as the air in his lungs started to go stale, he felt a firm, tugging pressure from the rope, slowly pulling him to the surface. Thank God for Varten, Simon thought, as surprised by the thought as he was by the fact that the boy was doing what he'd been told to do. Whatever had grabbed him didn't let go easily, and for a few seconds, Simon worried he was about to be torn in two.

Then, its grip slipped, and he was yanked to the surface in a single motion. He tried to gauge the distance he traveled as he was brought up to the surface, and reckoned it was four or five feet. When his face broke above the sand, it was with grateful gasping. Even from the surface, though, he could hear the spirit or whatever it was shrieking with incoherent rage beneath the sands. In fact, the noise he was hearing made him think it was more and more likely he was facing a strange monster than anything else.

As Varten dismounted and ran up to him, Simon pulled himself up and examined his legs, looking for blood or claw marks. He hadn't felt any pain, but even so, he still didn't expect to find himself unmarked.

"It's okay," Simon said as his squire approached where he was sitting in the dirt, trying to understand what had happened.

"I'm not hurt. I'm just—" Simon didn't finish whatever he was going to say. He was silenced as Varten wrapped him in a desperate hug. It was every bit as shocking and nearly as unexpected as the way he'd been pulled beneath the sands. He was crying, too.

"Don't… If you die, who will train me to be a brave knight?!" the boy demanded with petulant, tear-streaked fury.

"It's fine, I was never in any danger," Simon lied.

"This was the plan the whole time, and you did great," he reassured his squire. The truth was that was not how he'd thought things would go at all, but in the moment, he hadn't really minded. One more death wouldn't be the end of the world. Wouldn't be the end of the world for me, he thought as he held the boy and reeled from the knowledge that it would be for him. For once, Simon didn't know what to say to calm the boy.

So, he didn't say anything at all for a long moment as he embraced his first real connection in lifetimes.