J'role had no patience with any of them anymore, for he had worn the ring, and now the longing came full and strong. He had reached the dwarven records. He would persevere.
He strode into the hall. Chandeliers with thick wax candles burned overhead. Pools of light flickered on the floor.
He turned back to Merrox, who returned his gaze with one eyebrow lowered and the other raised, "Ah, well," he said. "If you're willing to press on …" He led them to an empty table, "Here, we'll use this table as our work area. Now. What information do you have?"
“It's a city to the northeast," said Releana. "Theran, perhaps. Invisible to the eye, but somehow present. There is a magic ring that lets the wearer see the city. However, you can only penetrate as far as the city walls, and no further …"
"So you suspect the walls are a key element of the city's wonders."
"Exactly," said Releana. "It's our hope that we can find the designs for the stones of the walls, and thus find the solution to bringing the city back. There might be some clue hidden within the design. Perhaps your people included a secret device to release the city from its hiding place. I don't know for certain. I have only heard of all this from J'role, and our communication is limited …"
Merrox listened carefully as Releana spoke, nodding all the while. Then he said, "I find it hard to believe such a city-"
J'role held up his hand, his face set with determination. He nodded.
"Very well then," the dwarf said with a forced smile. “Is there anything known? Perhaps the name of the person or persons who ordered the stones? I expect the name of the city was hidden as well. What about-"
J'role suddenly raised his hand again. The elf queen had spoken the name of the city.
What was it again?
Parlainth.
J'role nodded.
"What?" asked the dwarf. "You know something. What?"
"The people that ordered the stones?" suggested Releana. "The name of the city?"
J'role nodded.
They looked at him expectantly. He stared back and shrugged. Were they expecting him to tell them the name?
"Yes, yes," said Merrox, "you're mute … mute." He turned toward the table, gathering up paper and ink. "But can you write? Could you write the name of the city?"
J'role turned away, shook his head. He blushed; never had he been so ashamed of his inability to communicate. Here he was, possessed of the key bit of information to fulfill their quest, and he could not speak a simple word, nor impart it in any way to the others.
"If we had the name of the city," began Merrox. "There's no guarantee, of course, given the scale of the magic involved … But it might give us exactly what we're looking for."
"All right then," said Releana. "Let's do it."
J'role looked at her, perplexed.
"Let's sound it out, like we've done for other words. That's how our written language works anyway. I'm sure we can do the same now."
J'role's shame increased. He felt an intense bitterness burning in him. He had killed his father, a weak, gentle man, and here he was, about to play a game! What was the point of anything?
"J'role," Releana said, looking at him carefully, "we need this."
He nodded. He sighed. What else was he to do? Give up? No. He needed something. He needed to long for something just to go on.
"Or kill yourself," the creature said. The image of ragged wrists, blood flowing freely came to him.
He nearly began to cry, but pushed the image from his thoughts and began searching his mind for how to begin.
"How many words?" asked Releana, encouraging him.
He raised a finger.
"All right. Give us the first sound of the word. Give us an object or idea or something that sounds like the first sound."
Parlainth.
Par.
Parchment!
He grabbed a sheet of paper from a dwarf at a nearby table and held it up before them.
The dwarf gasped.
"Parchment?" asked Releana. J'role nodded enthusiastically.
"Ment?" Merrox asked. J'role shook his head.
"Parch!" Releana said firmly. J'role pointed to her and nodded.
"Parch. Parch. Parch," the two of them said over and over.
J'role held his hands before him, squeezing the syllable shorter.
"Par," said Releana.
J 'role nodded and smiled. He liked this. "Par, par, par," the two of them said again.
Releana said, “The first sound is Par." Dwarfs from neighboring tables had begun to wander over to find out what was going on.
Next sound. Parlainth.
Lainth.
He couldn't think of anything so he decided to break it up one more time, saving the th for last.
Lain. What word could he use?
"Pain," said the creature in his thoughts.
He mimed pulling a dagger out of a sheath.
"Dagger" said Merrox.
“Draw," said a dwarf.
"Danger," said Releana.
J'role then pressed the imaginary blade against his wrist and cut himself with it.
A gasp went up from several of the dwarfs who had gathered, but some, along with Merrox and Releana began shouting out guesses.
"Death."
“Suicide."
"Murder."
"Doom."
J 'role turned his face into a grimace. Though he kept his mouth shut, he winced his eyes and swayed a bit. He grabbed the wrist and hugged it close.
“Agony."
"Despair."
"Murder."
J'role pointed at the dwarf who had shouted agony, then motioned with his hand, encouraging more suggestions along those lines.
"Agony," someone repeated.
"Hurt."
"Torture."
"Sacrifice."
"Wound."
"Pain."
J'role jumped up and down, clapping his hands together.
"Pain?" Releana asked. J'role remembered he wasn't quite done yet. He spread his fingers an inch apart.
"Close," said Merrox authoritatively to the others. “It's close." He turned to J'role. "It sounds like Paine?”
J'role nodded.
"Sane?"
"Plain!"
“Bane?"
“Cane!"
"Gain?"
"Lane!"
J'role threw his hands up and pointed at the dwarf who had said, "Lane." Applause rose up from the gathered dwarfs, and some patted their fellow dwarf on the back. Others nodded sagely to J'role.
A strange good humor began to rise in J'role. He looked around at the happy faces, knowing he had made it happen. Releana was looking at him, smiling a sly smile. She said, "All right. All right. Par-Lane. Yes? Is there more?”
J'role nodded. Th.
He thought for a long while, everyone looking at him expectantly. He could think of nothing, and looked around wildly for inspiration … seeing only the thousands of records upon the shelves. Thousands, yes
He waved his hands at the shelves, encompassing the entire Hall of Records in his gesture.
There was a pause, and everyone turned back to him, then a cacophony of suggestions.
"Records!"
'Scrolls!"
"Books!'?
"Bills!"
"Blueprints!"
"Designs!"
Realizing the group had taken the wrong tack, he once again waved his arms, trying to get them to understand he was dealing in scope. "Big!"
“Many!"
J'role pointed at the giver the last suggestion.
"Many!"
"Much!"
"Overwhelming!"
Hundreds!"
"Hundreds of thousands!"
J'role pointed again.
"Thousands?”
He nodded furiously.
"Thousands!" everyone cried as one.
"Sands," said Merrox.
J’role shook his head.
"Thou!" shouted Releana. J'role nodded and squeezed his fingers together.
"Th!" everyone tried to say, and the group sounded like a large snake with a lisp. J'role nodded.
"Par-Lane-Th?" Releana asked. "Any more?"
J'role shook his head.
"Parlainth?"