“It would be a shame if this place caught fire,” the Lich whispers as they watch Lynius turn around. A flame appears on his thumb, but it is extinguished immediately by the halfling’s callused palm. “I wasn’t really going to set anything on fire. As much of a monster as I am, I have respect for knowledge. Every caster worth their aura would vomit at the thought of destroying so much information. There’s no telling what secrets of necromancy are protected by these walls and forgotten by the outside world.”
“True, but it really would be a shame if a fire started in here,” Nimby replies while pulling a tinderbox out of his pocket. Stepping away from the books, he creates a small flame and holds it over his head to get the alarm started. “There is a secret in this building and we aren’t going to find it getting eye strain. Whatever we’re looking for wouldn’t be with the regular books. My bet is that one of those ten teachers can help us. We get Lynius over here and threaten him with an inferno if he doesn’t help.”
“Good plan, but I think something has already gone wrong,” the necrocaster points out with a laugh. Sensing confusion from his host, he gently taps at the halfling’s ear. “Where did all the sounds go? I mean, this is a library, but there was a little noise made by people moving around the stacks. Now, there’s nothing.”
A gust of wind billows down the row and puts out the flame, which Nimby immediately recreates. He protects it with his hand, the bone feeling only a little pain from the fire that is snuffed out by a thin jet of water that bursts from the stones. Sensing a figure behind him, the halfling rolls forward and holds out a third flame toward the books. To his relief, the Lich enhances the flickering torch and protects it from Lynius’s next wind spell. The priest is about to unleash a holy blast to expel the necrocaster from the library, but his casting is stopped by a quick elbow to his gut. With the man gasping at his feet, Nimby puts the magical fire as close to the shelves as he dares.
“I don’t want to destroy this place, but I have friends depending on me. Groan if you’re willing to work with me,” the halfling whispers, the alarm stopping when the priest does as he is told. Taking a seat on the floor, he moves the fire away from the books and holds it a few inches from the man’s face. “We need to find these crests, which will help the champions defeat Baron Arthuru Kernaghan. I don’t think the guide will help us because the information we need wouldn’t be kept out in the open. Only those who are far up the ranks of this place would be allowed to access such information. For example, a high priest who didn’t flinch when I mentioned the Baron’s full name.”
“Admitting that you don’t want to destroy this library means I have no reason to give you what you want,” Lynius states, relaxing as if he has already won. Attempting to stand, his stomach still aches from the blow and he slumps back to the floor. “The map is genuine, but none of you can be trusted. Why would I give information to Queen Trinity and one of her chaos elves, a disembodied Lich, a possessed toy, and a thief? As if those who follow the path of knowledge wouldn’t recognize any of you. The only hope you have is that Altia’s questions are answered to all of our satisfaction.”
“She’s investigating the sudden lack of chaos elf activity,” the Lich blurts out. He jams his hand into the nearest pocket to avoid getting touched by the priest. “Very cunning, but it still wastes time. Not to mention it’s risky since Trinity might be defensive or too focused on her own research. That also doesn’t clear the rest of us.”
Lynius coughs and takes a sip of healing potion, which eases his discomfort. “Yes, but only the chaos elves will be allowed forward. The toy reeks of sinister intent and the halfling is bound to a vile creature. For the three of you, this is where the journey ends. Unless the path takes the others back this way, which is possible.”
With a look of utter defeat, Nimby puts out the flame and hands the tinderbox over to the priest. The halfling shakes his victorious opponent’s hand and tries to pull him in for a hug, but is kept at arm’s length. He shrugs and flashes the best grin he can muster before trudging around the corner. The priest relaxes and checks the books for damage, but jumps when Nimby returns to tap him on the hip. The man’s face pales at the sight of a familiar piece of wood that has an ancient engraving on its polished surface. Checking around his neck, he pulls out a chain that no longer holds the relic, which he has protected since rising to the leadership of the temple. In its place is a wooden yo-yo that has been clipped to the polished links.
“I can’t read anything other than the Baron’s name,” the halfling admits while spinning an open padlock around his finger. The rusty metal sheds with every twirl, but it never becomes any lighter or thinner. “Very ingenious for you to carry the lock instead of the key. Kind of lucky that I ran into you instead of one of the others too. Guessing each of you holds a different secret that is kept here.”
“No, the truth is that each of us carries a lock to the Vault of Forbidden Tomes,” Lynius admits as he kneels to pray for forgiveness. Drawing the Elven word for truth on his forehead, the high priest bows to the floor. “I will not stop your search, but this is where my help ends. Do not think the door will be easy to find, especially if you cannot decipher the plate.”
“One problem at a time,” Nimby replies with a smirk. “We’re surprisingly resourceful for a bunch of former miscreants.”
“Former?”
“At least we’re trying to be when people are looking.”
*****
Vile’s arm flails wildly as it sticks out from under a pile of books that was once his comfortable perch. He curses and kicks, but his body is stuck in a position that prevents him from getting any leverage. By the time the others arrive and free the figurine, one of his glowing eyes has popped from all of his muffled screaming. The warrior growls when Trinity uses an elongated nail to mold the damaged part into a tiny eyepatch. Vile is about to complain when Altia gives him a hug, the tender act diffusing his temper. Clutched to the elf’s chest, the figurine remains still and manages to force a weak smile onto his face. For a brief moment, he feels like he has become caught on something beneath her robe, but the pull on his fake robe disappears before he can figure out the source.
“You picked an odd time to be interested in women again,” Nimby says, the halfling leaning on the back of a chair. He flips into the seat and puts his feet on the table, being careful not to disturb any of the books. “So, I threatened and tricked Lynius into telling me where we have to go. Seems what we want is in the Vault of Forbidden Tomes and I kind of have the key to get inside. Not sure about the language and even Tyler can’t decipher this plate, so maybe somebody else can translate.”
“How did you get the request piece and lock?” Altia asks, grabbing the wooden piece as it slides across the table. Realizing that she has said too much, the guide drops the plate and tries to whistle, but only manages to spray spit on a pile of books. “Damn it, that’s going to get me in trouble. I can’t say anymore because I’m not supposed to know. It’s just that the teachers talk loud enough to be heard through the doors. I may have been listening and caught onto what they are carrying. Let’s pretend I didn’t say anything and give this back.”
With a creak in his elbow, Nimby’s boney arm jolts up and points at the startled elf. “You were given to us as a guide, which means you do as we say. To do otherwise is to insult your god and order. Now, tell us all that you know.”
“But I just got my own room.”
“I don’t care.”
“The Garians take these things very seriously.”
“Answer our questions because we own you!”
“Shut your mouth before I find a way to do it for you,” Trinity snaps, her eyes flickering with violet energy. Taking the red-haired guide’s hands, she smiles and is happy to see the expression being mirrored. “You’re free to go if you want. There’s no need to get yourself into trouble on our account. Forcing you to help is too close to slavery and that puts a horrible taste in my mouth. I do ask that you prevent the o
thers from stopping us, but I get the feeling that they would have done it already. Thank you for everything you’ve done, Altia. You can return to whatever it is you do here.”
Altia’s face twitches in apprehension and desire as she hands over the plate and turns to walk away. The elf only makes it to the end of the row before heading back to the travelers and reclaiming the wooden piece. Sitting on the edge of the table, she taps at different spots of bark in an order that she remembers catching one of the teachers doing. The words become clear to her, but speak of a book on chaos elves. Realizing her mistake, Altia slides over to Quail in order to press the plate to his chest and gets him to hold it tight. Wiggling her fingers, she repeats the activation touches and grins at her success. The sense of people staring makes her think that it is because her bare legs and leather boots are exposed by her stance. Attempting to act demure and embarrassed, she covers herself up and slips the plate into her robes.
“The request piece used to be how Garians found things in this library. You think of the topic and the plate tells you the best books for it,” Altia explains as she heads toward the middle of the building. Noticing that the travelers are not following, she spins on her toes and waves with both arms to get them moving. “They became obsolete when finder spells were created and allowed by the order. Now, these relics are only used to guide someone through the Vault of Forbidden Tomes. I’ve never been in there, but the plate says it’s very dangerous. Probably because you’re looking for the diary of Baron Arthuru Kernaghan. Evil warlords that became gods before they were depowered and cursed to lurk in the shadows as deadly immortals are definitely something . . . I said too much again. Uh, who’s this Baron?”
“The diary will add to the map,” Quail whispers, unaware of the young woman’s newest revelation. Pulling out the scroll, he finds that it is showing the interior of the library, but there are no directional markings. “This is very strange. Maybe we don’t get to come back the way we came, which is why the map changed. Did Lynius say anything about the entrance?”
“Only that it would be difficult to find,” Nimby replies while cautiously eyeing the blushing elf. He notices Vile creeping up on Altia, the figurine’s toothpick ready to strike her in the heel if she acts suspiciously. “I think I speak for all of us when I say that our new friend isn’t what she seems. We’re not going any further until you tell us what you’re really doing here. Don’t even think of trying to lie to me because the necrocaster inside my arm already hit you with a truth spell.”
“Elves are born from silver eggs and spend the first two years of their lives walking on their heads, which means you’re a liar,” the grinning guide declares with a bow. Spotting Vile beneath a table, she abruptly stands up straight and takes a cautious step away from the toy. “On the other hand, you found me out and making the situation worse would be foolish. Everyone inside the Library of Gar knows about the Baron. We remembered about a month ago and have been researching him to no avail. The council was told not to look inside the Vault of Forbidden Tomes. I’d guess the reason is because Gabriel told Gar that you were going to show up for the diary. Now, as an act of good faith, I’ll lead you to the entrance, but it means I’ll be in trouble and you’ll have to take me with you.”
Trinity puts her arm in front of the elf, who gracefully ducks under the limb. “You know where the secret door is?”
“It’s on the lower level and it isn’t a secret,” Altia answers, leaning away from the scowling channeler. Moving her finger through the air, she replays the conversation in her head and snaps her fingers when she understands the confusion. “Well, I guess it’s difficult to find if you don’t have a torch. Pretty dark down there. More than likely, Lynius wanted you to wander around until you get impatient and attempt to break into the upstairs. That gives them a reason to eject you from the library. He might not look like it, but that guy can be rather cunning when he’s motivated. That’s why he runs the front desk. Anyway, we should head downstairs and enter the vault before we get in trouble. They won’t leave us alone forever.”
Scooping Vile off the ground and hooking Quail by the arm, Altia heads for the spiral staircase. Nimby and Trinity follow, but stay back in case a trap is waiting for them. To their surprise, the others vanish into the darkness after two floors even though the other levels can be seen from above. They hear Quail stumble and utter thanks for being caught, every whisper responded to with a nervous laugh. A flicker of light erupts from Nimby’s hand, but the light is extinguished by the shadows as if they are alive and hungry. Further into the depths, all noise disappears and the travelers quickly lose all sense of time and distance. The only thing they know is that the stairs are solid beneath their feet and the railing to their right shakes as if it will collapse at any moment.
Fearing that they have been separated, Trinity casts a powerful daylight vision spell on her eyes and is nearly blinded by the vivid colors. She is unsure if the walls are painted or there are portraits, her head swimming from the vicious barrage to her senses. A burst of sound erupts in her ears and it takes her a second to realize that the railing has broken. Chilling wind wraps around the chaos elf’s body, but she grabs the edge of the stairs with numbing fingers. Ice forms on her skin and seeps into her muscles, forcing Trinity to cast a fire spell that does very little to help against the magical defenses. As her hand slips, someone catches the channeler by the legs and pulls her into the darkness. To her surprise, she falls only a few feet and lands with an echoing thud, the impact freeing her from part of the illusion. Blood still spurts from her mouth and the chaos elf swears most of the bones in her body are broken, but she struggles to remain conscious.
“Move slowly because your body thinks it just fell at least eight floors,” Nimby whispers while he waves his boney hand over Trinity. He watches ribbons of magic weave out of the bronze ring and remove the lingering illusion with very little tenderness. “Don’t make her situation any worse than it already is, Tyler. The rest of us broke free and realized the basement is really only ten floors down. We tried to pull you down, Trinity, but that didn’t work. Just relax while we get the vault door open. Are you sure you don’t know any healing spells?”
“I focused more on research than magic and the few spells I know are defensive,” Altia replies as she circles a metal panel in the floor. Tapping at it with her foot, she frowns at the lack of a hollow echo. “She should be fine once the illusion is removed. The Chaos Elf Queen has a reputation for being tough and resilient, so I have faith in her. Give me the lock and I can get this open, but I warn all of you that I don’t know what’s on the other side.”
“Do it and make sure she goes first,” Trinity says after she sits up. Flexing her hand, she has lightning dance along her fingers until she is satisfied with her condition. “You’re being far too helpful, young lady, which puts me on edge. Nobody should be this accommodating to people like us. Only thing more suspicious is the fact that Vile has been quiet all this time. Makes me think he’s up to something too.”
“My silence is because I have nothing to say,” the warrior replies with a shrug. He kicks at the edge of the entrance, his leg trembling for a few seconds after the blow. “Let’s get on with this. Need I remind all of us that time is running out?”
Altia accepts the lock and does her best to appear humble, but the collection of piercing gazes makes her sweat. Only Quail looks at her with a friendly smile, which helps her relax enough to return to the expression. Putting the fear of getting stabbed or blown up out of her mind, the elf presses the lock to the middle of the metal panel. Sparks fly from the edges as the relic fuses to the door and a ruby key rises from the hole. The travelers gather around Altia, who takes a final look at the wooden plate to make sure she has memorized the correct opening procedure. She turns the key until she hears a faint click and goes in the opposite direction, her wrist getting jolted by the violent clunk that stops her movement. With her breath held, the red-haired guide shoves the molded jewel into th
e lock and the floor abruptly opens beneath everyone’s feet.
6
Quail and Altia scratch their heads in unison, the pair trying to figure out the secret to the many passages built into the floor. Every confident attempt has been met with failure and a temporary enchantment ranging from enlarged hands to being transformed into slugs. All of the travelers still feel like they are coated in a thin layer of slime even though it has been an hour since they recovered. The only consistent result from making a choice is that they reappear in the center of the room, which is the star-shaped platform that cushions their landing. A gong is attached to the dais with a sign promising a safe return to the library for anyone who wishes to strike the instrument. Nobody has dared to test their luck since a trap would be equally as bad as being ejected from the vault without the diary. Chairs and a small bookcase are on the widest of the platform’s points, the shelves holding tales of heroes who learned that there is no shame in retreating. One of the tomes remains open on the floor, the shattered remains of Vile’s toothpick fused to the page he tried to stab out of frustration.
For the fifth time, Quail trips off a narrow walkway and falls into a hole, his flailing grab catching Altia and dragging her along. The others wait patiently for the pair to either return or enough time has passed for them to safely guess it is the correct path. Like every time before, a long note rises from the shadows and their friends are ejected with incredible force. They sail towards the boarded doorway in the ceiling where their bodies burst into a rain of golden sparkles, which gently swirls back to the platform. Quail and Altia are gradually reformed by a gust of cold wind, but the startled pair remain on the floor until they are sure the enchantment is gone. Sitting up and moving next to each other, they go over the map and request plate for the countless time.
“There has to be a clue somewhere,” Trinity interrupts while reaching out with her aura. All of the magical traps make it difficult to discern a safe passage and the channeler tries her best not to set the enchantments off with her prying. “You said the map changes every time one of us goes through a hole. What if the entrance moves? There must be a pattern to something like that or the Garians would be constantly getting lost down here.”
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