Undeading Bells (Fred Book 6)

by Hayes, Drew

“Spells still appear to work, so that’s something. We can make our way toward the others. When, or if, our paths will join is anyone’s guess. Let’s take our time and be thorough.”

  The roar that echoed forth through the cavern was distant, though exactly how far off was impossible to gauge with the way that sound kept bouncing about. What did become instantly clear was that we were not alone, and that our company sounded to be sizable.

  “Didn’t want to say anything to jinx it, but part of me was wondering if someone went to all the trouble of making a labyrinth and forgot to put in a minotaur.” Neil grinned sheepishly, poorly hiding the prudent fear in his eyes. It didn’t escape my notice that he produced the knife from the room where we’d landed and had it now gripped tight in his free hand.

  I started forward again, cutting a quicker pace this time. “Perhaps we’ll focus on speed and thoroughness, for so long as we can manage.”

  8.

  It became quickly apparent that our greatest asset in the maze would not be Neil’s magical compass, nor even my vampire abilities. No, for once, it was our learning skills that were given a chance to shine, as memorization rapidly became the name of the game. There was no figuring out the maze. It was too convoluted to start with, and with magic factoring in to change the natural way some paths wound through the space, trial and error revealed itself as our only tactic for making progress.

  “The right leads to a dead end, the left leads here. Time to try center.” Neil opened his eyes, dispelling whatever mental map he’d been etching. Trial and error were only as good as one’s capacity to learn from them, which was why memory had immediately become vital. Between the unsettling stillness of the maze and the occasional roars bursting forth from seemingly nowhere, we could feel every passing second. Making the same mistake twice would cost time we didn’t have to spend.

  As we walked, I kept an eye on our overall surroundings, scanning the stone to catch every detail. For the most part, it was uniform to a confusing degree. The only real variance I could find was the arcane etchings, but much like trying to memorize gibberish, they were too unnatural to sit in my brain properly. Occasionally, I would spot some bit of variance: an old buckle, a scrap of leather—at one junction, I even found a torch that had burned out. How long ago it had been left there, and by whom, I had no idea. I felt like a movie archaeologist; if not for the crushing sense of constant danger, I might have even described the process as fun.

  “Hang on, this is a new section.” Neil brought us to a halt, closing his eyes once more as I examined the juncture. This one was a simple T-frame. We’d been coming up along one path, and now we had to decide whether to take a turn, or press forward. “Barring any magical warping, I think the turn leads back to that section with the half-dozen routes branching out. Let’s stay moving forward for now, but we’ll circle back if this path dead-ends on us.”

  “You’ve got a real knack for that,” I noted. With things going well between us for a change, positive reinforcement felt appropriate. Besides, it sincerely was impressive. “I’m no slouch at keeping track of details, and I never could manage to hold so many routes in my mind.”

  Neil shrugged, but also smiled slightly. “Amy started my education by making me work on visualization. She said the best lab is your mind: do your initial creating there, where it’s safe, and only bring it into reality when you’ve constructed something stable. Also comes up a lot in more complex spellwork, so it’s a good foundation to lay. Compared to casting multiple spells at the same time, this isn’t all that tough.”

  I tried not to look as surprised as I felt. It was hardly appropriate given the competence Neil had been displaying. “Didn’t even realize that sort of thing was possible.”

  “Me either, at first. It’s part of what makes experienced mages more dangerous. You might get off one spell while they’re attacking, defending, enchanting, and summoning all in the same amount of time. I can kind of do two, if neither is especially complex. Amy sometimes goes up to three at once for potion-making, but I suspect she can do more.”

  My hunch aligned with Neil’s. Whatever Amy showed herself capable of, it was a fair bet that it would ultimately prove to be little more than the tip of the iceberg. It also made me wonder about some of the other casters I’d encountered. How many spells could the Clover siblings manage, with their focus on enchantment, versus Cyndi, the archmage who’d helped teach Amy? It was a pointless distraction that helped fill my mind with something other than hypothetical images of what might be waiting for us around the next corner.

  That didn’t prove to be a long wait to find out, as we soon came to a turn which put us in a larger, open area with multiple paths branching off. It wouldn’t have been a point in the journey worth mentioning, save for the fact that this spot appeared markedly different from those we’d encountered so far.

  A blade that looked like it was made for someone of Richard’s size had been cut clean in half and was lying on the floor amidst cracked stone and smears of what appeared to be old rust. My vampire nose knew better, however. It might be too ancient to put out a scent, but a scratch along the surface of the substance kicked up enough particles to confirm what I already suspected.

  Horrifically, I was becoming quite adept at recognizing blood in its various states.

  While I checked the stain, Neil examined the walls, running his hands along the cold surface. “Oh… wow. Fred, what do you think the weirdest thing I could tell you I just discovered is?”

  “This whole thing is an elaborate ruse constructed by Gideon for his own amusement?”

  “Better guess than I expected, but no.” His hands refused to leave the stone, slowly inching along. “So, so much weirder. There was obviously a fight here, who knows how long ago. I thought it was weird that something was strong enough to break the floor so easily, yet the walls are left untouched. Except they’re not untouched at all. They’re scarred. Come here.”

  Taking my hand, Neil pulled it to the nearest wall, setting my palms against the arcane etchings. “Get a feel for it,” he instructed. “While there’s no real pattern, you should get a sense of the general texture. Now, check this out.”

  Moving my hand along the wall, Neil said nothing more. Then, I felt it: a line, moving through the etchings, a break of order in their sea of meaningless chaos. No longer in need of guidance, I moved my own arm, tracing the anomaly. Lighter near the start and finish, most noticeable in the center, the impression perfectly matched what would be left by a bladed weapon swinging in an arc.

  “Bizarre. What does it tell us?”

  “Potentially, a lot of things. At the very least, that this maze heals itself, which means there’s really no way to know how long it’s been standing here. On the higher end… it’s possible we have another Charlotte situation, though I’d have expected some display of sentience by now if that were the case, so call that one a long shot.”

  The roar that split the silence was unlike any that had come before. Those were too distorted to track, which was a blessing I only recognized once it was gone. Being closer meant that we could tell the noise was nearby, which meant the sound’s source was, as well.

  “I guess the other thing you could take away from this scene is that there’s something in here strong enough to break swords and scar stone,” Neil added, his tone barely above a whisper.

  “Oddly, that isn’t the part that scares me. I’m more worried by the fact that it’s gotten closer. If that’s not a coincidence, then it means that thing can track us.”

  It wasn’t a roar that reached my ears this time, rather the noise of something big and heavy thudding along the stone. I had no idea if my hearing was at its normal levels; between Neil losing his magic sense and the lack of anything but roars, there hadn’t been a chance to test it. In a general sense, it didn’t especially matter, but in a specific sense, it was the difference between a few minutes of forewarning and a few seconds.

  No reaction from Neil meant I wasn’t work
ing in the human spectrum, or he was very much distracted. Since the lumbering was moving toward us, though, my response was the same either way.

  “Neil, I think I’m going to have to carry you. Minotaur or something else, this creature is big, and can presumably cover a lot of ground. We need undead speed.”

  I was braced for all manner of pushback on the concept, yet none came. It could have been our improving dynamic, or the fact that death was a real concern, but he nodded grimly rather than dismiss the notion out of hand.

  “Let’s do a piggyback instead. I’ll be a second set of eyes, using the compass to steer us.”

  That was the extent of the discussion, as the sounds of movement were getting near enough for Neil to make them out, as well. The effort took a moment of coordination, but soon we had him clinging to my back while I carefully locked his legs in with my arms. It was unwieldy, and as a human, I’d have gone toppling over immediately. Poor a vampire as I might be, lifting a young mage was still within my realm of capability. Neil picked a direction, and I took off, moving as fast I could without making a racket.

  Unfortunately, no sooner had we started to gain speed than the noise behind us picked up in volume. Our pursuer was getting louder, no longer showing even a cursory concern for the concept of stealth, if it had ever had one in the first place. My guess about it tracking us also appeared correct: the ruckus was definitely following us.

  In a pure sprint, I felt I’d have had a relatively easy time. It’s hard to beat a vampire in a footrace, as our enhanced speed and lack of need for rest or air make for a potent combination. The trouble was that, running or not, we were still navigating a maze. Dead-ends popped up, forcing backtracks, to say nothing of the paths that led us in perfect loops, burning up our precious lead.

  It was one of those loops that proved to be our folly. A particularly circuitous one burned several full minutes, sending us on a pointless circle. As I returned to the juncture where we’d gone off path, I smelled something new. That settled it: whatever was affecting Neil had definitely tamped down my own senses, as well. There was no way I could have missed a stink like that otherwise. It was the equivalent of a thousand years of musk combined with wet dog. I barely made it to the turn before the creature stepped into view.

  Neil had been correct in his guess: this was certainly a minotaur, more or less as I’d imagined them from myth. Huge, hulking, with giant horns and an axe that looked like it could cleave through fully grown oaks, he stamped a meaty leg ending in a hoof down one time only, and then charged.

  There was no question or inner debate. I immediately knew what my course of action had to be. Run, obviously. For a fleeting moment, I was tempted to do the same loop I’d just finished. If the minotaur pursued, then I could sprint at top-speed to widen the gap. Except I had to assume the minotaur actually knew this maze and would realize that if I did take that loop, this room would be the only place I could return to. Better the unknown than certain doom, so I pointed myself down the route we hadn’t taken and pumped my legs.

  Two quick forks in rapid succession had me making snap decisions. Pressure on my side from Neil’s leg was his input as I veered right, then left, dearly hoping we were nearing either an exit or our friends. This was one of the times I actually wouldn’t have minded having a bodyguard nearby. Sadly, I didn’t suddenly run into the rest of our team.

  What I did encounter, however, was a long, straight run of stone hallway. No turns, no ways off. I could already hear the minotaur gaining; the forks weren’t slowing it by even a moment. It was definitely tracking us, which meant that it would be here any moment.

  It seemed I was going to test direct vampire speed against a minotaur, after all.

  9.

  Were I in a less frantic state of mind, I might have mulled over the humor of an undead man dropping into a dead sprint, but the giant axe-wielding monster giving chase kept mirth to a minimum. Instead, everything I had went into running, all my vampire strength that went unused the majority of the time finally having a proper outlet. My feet were a blur as I tore ahead, bounding toward the end of the hall, where I could put some turns between us.

  Except… the end of the hall didn’t seem to be drawing close as fast as it should, and I could hear the minotaur gaining. I’d thought myself largely free of ego, yet seeing my skill at fleeing fail did feel a tad deflating—that was, until my eyes darted low and I noticed the way the floor was shifting. Every time I laid a foot down, the stones shot backward, robbing me of the vast majority of my progress. It was the equivalent of trying to run up an escalator, or backwards down one of those moving walkways at an airport. Doable, especially with my speed; however, it did slow the effort down substantially.

  Worrying as that was, my larger fear was whether this was an existing trap we’d been herded toward, or one the minotaur had somehow caused to happen. The first notion was worrying; the second meant we were as good as chopped. Seeing as I had no insight, whatever the truth might be didn’t change my options in the moment. Fighting that thing was a no-go from the start. In these narrow quarters, it would rob me of even my ability to dodge or run. This had started as a contest of speed, and it was going to be resolved as one.

  Setting my jaw, I ran harder, though I didn’t have a lot left to give. The giant minotaur hadn’t exactly put me in a state of mind to hold back. Yet, to my surprise, my progress suddenly increased by a noticeable margin. And, now that I was paying attention, there was something else to notice: the sound of Neil’s voice whispering arcane gibberish. I didn’t mind it one bit. He was resting a hand on the back of my neck, and with every passing syllable, I felt my body growing stronger. It wasn’t comparable to the time I’d had a drop of Gideon’s dragon blood, but this was the closest I’d come since that time.

  The efforts of the floor to drive me back were no longer adequate. I was making real progress again, which was good, because the minotaur was definitely gaining, the floor offering it no resistance in the least. I chanced a single look back to see it thundering along, the teeth in its vast snout smashing against each other like it was trying to take bites of us even from that far away.

  If I’d needed more motivation, that certainly did the trick. In truth, I think it was less my terror and more Neil’s spell that moved us forward. Great as the mind might be for some challenges, there were times when magic was called for, and in those moments, a necromancer shined brightest with undead at hand. Granted, his normal partner might have actually been able to fight our attacker, but the mark of good support was that it made everyone’s strengths all the more powerful, while also shoring up against their weak spots. My talent just happened to be running away.

  Unfortunately, it was turning out that our minotaur was no slouch at the sprint, either. I’d have expected it to tire or slow eventually, yet it refused to lose so much as a step. Maybe it was more magic of the maze, or maybe I’d deeply underestimated its cardiovascular system. Regardless, the end result was that, as the end of the hallway finally drew close, I could almost feel the minotaur’s breath. I actually could feel the wind from a swing of its axe, which mustered an extra burst of terror-speed I hadn’t even known was in me.

  Gripping Neil for all I was worth, I lowered my head, ignored everything else about the world, and gave every last bit of effort I had to my legs. Nothing else existed or mattered: only the steady rhythm of my feet slamming against the traitorous ground. At the last minute, I caught the flick of metal catching the light. Neil had thrown his knife into the ground, just between sections of sliding tiles, offering me a stable point to push off from. Stepping lightly to put as little weight as possible on the metal implement, I finally found an instant of solid footing and pressed off it with maximum force.

  I was so lost in the act of running that I actually missed the point where we cleared the hallway. That proved troublesome, as the moment I was on normal ground that didn’t push back against me, my rate of advancement took a tremendous leap upward before I’d regist
ered the change. Neil was smart enough to hop off my back before I careened headfirst into a wall, so at least I was the only one momentarily hindered. The knock on my skull had the walls spinning and my brain a bit cloudy, even as I struggled to my feet. Which is why I was just as able to be surprised by what came next as the minotaur.

  “Now.”

  That wasn’t Neil’s voice, and it certainly wasn’t mine, so unless the minotaur had learned to do a flawless Amy impression, there could only be one source of the order. Turning around carefully, I found myself looking at Albert and Gregor as they dumped a pair of Amy’s potions onto the ground, right where the hallway let out. Amy stood nearby, streaks of light, like falling stars, running along the surface of her skin, watching with a careful eye. At the last moment, she spit out a single word, and the mixed potions on the ground exploded into a cloud of smoke.

  Her timing was perfect, as seconds later, the minotaur barreled directly into what I’d taken for a distraction. Except our pursuer wasn’t getting lost in the smoke, it was getting… tangled? The cloud was glomming onto the minotaur’s massive body, solidifying wherever it made contact. My closest equivalent would be to compare it to watching spray-foam insulation harden, though even that woefully fails to describe the terror of a creature realizing that the very air had turned against it.

  Strong as the minotaur was, it only got three steps past the hallway before it collapsed to the ground, completely entrapped by Amy’s alchemy.

  “See? Smarter, not harder.” Her smug expression was pointed at Gregor, who I could only imagine hadn’t been too keen on a plan that required waiting around and trusting us to arrive. But then, he didn’t know what Amy’s apprentice could do, so it was hard to blame him for being worried.

  Albert and Neil had embraced one another in a quick, strong hug, and then immediately fallen into hushed discussion, most likely comparing notes and deciding how to proceed. While they caught up, I shook the last of my mental fog away and examined our new surroundings.