Bone Lord 4, стр. 35

Anna-Lucielle flashed me one of her knee-weakening smiles when she looked up from the note.

“Of course, Vance,” she said. “Anything for you. I’m a little afraid of heights though. Don’t fly me too high, all right?”

“Grragh.”

Talon arrived shortly thereafter and gently picked up Anna-Lucielle with her claws. I didn’t need the zombie anymore, so I yanked my mind out of it.

“Did it work?” Elyse said. “You were talking as if you were having a conversation with her.”

“It turns out it’s a lot harder to make a zombie talk than it is to make it fight,” I said. “That doesn’t matter though; I found I could make the zombie scrawl out words on paper as easily as I could make it swing a sword or shoot a bow.”

We discussed how best to use my undead creatures as potential messengers until Talon came swooping in, carrying Anna-Lucielle.

“How’d you like your first flight?” I asked her after Talon had set her down on the deck.

“It was a little scary at first,” Anna-Lucielle admitted, “but once I got over that, it was actually quite enjoyable.”

“We have another guest on our ship,” I said, leading Anna-Lucielle over to the Yengishman, who was still lying on the deck and jabbering on about the kraken. “Do you think you can use your Charm powers to calm this poor guy down and get him to talk some sense?”

“Of course,” she answered.

She knelt down next to the Yengishman, placed her hands on his temples, and closed her eyes. I felt the Charm magic dancing around him, like a gentle whirlwind of comforting warmth. After a few moments, his eyes stopped bulging, his jaw stopped chattering, and his trembling subsided.

“I…feel... better,” he murmured, a smile coming across his cracked lips.

“Will this wear off?” I asked Anna-Lucielle.

“It’ll last a few hours,” she said, “but I can repeat it when it wears off. It doesn’t require much from me.”

“Excellent,” I said. “Now, let’s loosen his tongue some more with some good old grape magic.”

“Remember what I said, Vance,” Elyse cautioned. “Anna-Lucielle might have temporarily calmed his troubled mind, but his body remains damaged, and even a little too much wine could kill him.”

“Just a sip to wet his lips,” I said with a smile.

Elyse knelt down slowly and offered the man a few sips of wine, which he took with a grateful smile.

“I don’t know who you are,” he said, coughing as he struggled to swallow the wine, “but I owe you my life, kind stranger. I was knocking on death’s door out there on the ocean. A few more hours, and I would have been gone.”

“Ironically enough, you owe your life to the God of Death” Elyse said before I could answer the Yengishman myself. “Lord Vance Chauzec, God of Death.”

“A strange thing, it is, to be rescued from death by the God of Death,” the Yengishman said with a soft chuckle. “But it is a strange world, with many wonders and miracles, is it not? Praise then be to you, Lord Chauzec, God of Death. You have my loyalty from now until the end of my days for what you’ve done for me.”

“I’m glad to hear that. And what might your name be, Yengishman?” I asked. “Your command of the Common Tongue is superior to that of a common sailor.”

“It is,” he answered, “for I am no common sailor. Forgive me for my crass behavior; such rudeness would bring great shame upon me in my homeland. I have neglected to introduce myself correctly. My name is Zhenwan Chengum, and I am a chronicler—was, I should say. I am no longer anything of importance. This is why I am able to speak your Prandish tongue with fluency; I am fluent in a number of languages. I translated scrolls and tomes from all over the world into Yengish.”

This guy would be far more useful than I’d previously thought. He might have some knowledge of where the missing Dragon Gauntlet was and would certainly know all of Yeng’s dragon legends. He might even tell us about the Warlock, the Hooded Man, and any other notable news about the state of affairs in Yeng. First, though, I needed to find out how he’d ended up stranded on a dinghy.

“Tell me how you ended up on the dinghy,” I said to Zhenwan.

Immediately, the look of terror returned to his eyes, and his hands trembled.

“I was on a ship, with many other Yengish who, like me, were fleeing their homeland. Then, two weeks ago—”

“Hold on a second,” I said, “more about that.”

“The fleeing? Well, things in my homeland have become dangerous in recent times. A great evil has infected the land, both in overt and covert terms. I will tell you of this terrible evil shortly, but first, let me explain how I ended up on that dinghy. We left Xenthan, one of the westernmost ports in Yeng, a month ago. We were setting sail for Prand, hoping to find new lives there. Word had traveled to us about one of our greatest goddesses, Xayon, the Goddess of Wind, being resurrected, and regaining her former powers. This gave many of us Yengish great hope, something that has been lacking in Yeng in recent times for any who have eyes to see and who are not blinded by lies and false promises.”

“I know a little something about the resurrection of Xayon,” I said with a grin. I wasn’t about to spill the beans that this guy’s favorite goddess was just a few ships away, though, not until he’d told me his tale in its entirety. I figured if he knew Rami-Xayon was near, he’d probably lose his focus.

“You do?” Zhenwan said excitedly. “Would you be able to help me find her?”

“Don’t worry too much about that for now. Go on with your story.”

“Very well,” Zhenwan said, propping himself up against the sack of beans. “So, we sailed uneventfully for around two weeks. Well, not entirely uneventfully, really.”

“What do you