Path of the Traitors

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “If everything switches after a failed attempt then maybe they make a mistake on purpose to figure out the current configuration,” Nimby says, working off the theory. Tossing a rock into one of the holes, he frowns when nothing happens. “Too much to hope that inanimate objects can set these things off. I didn’t see any visual cues when Quail and Altia set off the last one, so it has to be memorization. None of this helps us anyway because we don’t know where the right path is in the first place. There has to be an answer around here.”

  From his perch on the gong, Vile whistles and gestures for the others to come closer. “The best way to test this theory is to go through the same hole twice in a row. If the same thing happens both times then we know the entrance doesn’t move. I would volunteer to go, but I prefer to remain safe and whole. My vote is for the suspicious guide who is still far too accommodating to a bunch of outsiders.”

  “I don’t want anyone going into a hole alone,” Trinity states, wrapping a cord around Altia before the elf can make the jump. Pulling the overly excited guide back to the group, the channeler takes her by the arm. “The last thing anyone wants is to pick the right hole and face whatever is next alone. I doubt the only defense is a complicated passageway puzzle since somebody could pick the right path through either dumb luck or learning the secret. Altia and I will both go. First, are you sure the map and plate say the same thing, Quail?”

  “The door is in the floor,” the mapper reads, cringing at the simple rhyme. Tapping at the parchment, he makes another quick count of the holes that cover the entire page. “Not much help there since we don’t see a sealed entrance anywhere. Then again, this place is huge and the corners aren’t getting much light. The challenge could be getting to one of the walls and shuffling along to the right spot.”

  “One theory at a time,” Altia retorts, gripping Trinity by the wrist. She tries to pull the channeler along, but finds that the other woman’s feet have bonded to the floor. “Fine, you go first and pick the hole. I know I’m being used as a shield, so I figured it didn’t make any difference. You people are very rude to strangers.”

  With a wave of her hand, Trinity permits Altia to lead her to the edge of a pit that they have yet to try. The women jump into the shadows and immediately feel like they are submerged in water. Their excitement is short-lived as they rise back to the surface and come out trapped in oily bubbles that stick together like a cluster of grapes. Drifting and spinning through the air, Trinity waits until they are over the platform before popping the orbs with a flurry of needle spells. Hovering for a curious second, the women are abruptly driven to the floor by battering water that makes their eyes burn. All attempts at casting are met with a torrent of bubbles that invades the channeler’s nostrils and mouth. The few spells she can get off are absorbed by the continuous downpour, which becomes stronger and threatens to knock everyone into different passages.

  Refusing to let their experiment fail, Trinity focuses on her aura before grabbing Altia with both hands and launching them toward the ceiling. The water curves to follow them, but is blasted into a fine mist when the chaos elf hurtles toward the hole. Plunging back into the darkness stops the trap, leaving the others drenched and belching soap bubbles. Waves of warm wind erupts from all of the openings and dries the platform before the two women are returned to the chamber. They land on opposite sides of the gong and remain motionless due to a strong paralysis spell. Whimpers and curses push through their gritted teeth, the painful impact barely cushioned by a force spell. It takes several minutes for the spell to wear off and even longer for their bodies to stop aching, every movement making them fear that most of their bones are broken.

  “This robe feels like it keeps getting in my way,” Altia mutters while she strips off the flowing garment. To the travelers’ surprise, the elf is wearing a short-sleeved chainmail shirt that is clipped to a pair of leather shorts. Her exposed legs shimmer in the light, a single scar on her right calf barely noticeable from afar. “That thing gets really warm, so I’m happy to be out of it for a while. Why is everyone staring at me? Do you like my armor? The underside is a very soft fabric from Canst’s Fields and I had it specially made with these clips to avoid exposing my belly to an enemy. Now, I know you think my legs are in danger, but my boots give off a mild force field that’s as strong as regular pants. Protection and showing off one of my finest features if I do say so myself.”

  Forcing herself to stand, Trinity points at the elf and has her nail turn into a blade. “What is that?”

  “I told you this is specially made armor.”

  “Not that.”

  “These are breasts and they started growing in when I was fourteen.”

  “Not those, you frustrating insect!”

  “I think you should take a nap.”

  “Shut up!” Trinity shouts as she leaps at Altia. The flexible blade on the tip of her finger wraps around the elf’s neck and lifts her off the ground, the keen edge cutting into her skin. “I am not in the mood for games. The violet jewel in your necklace is an enhancer gem. It’s a strange shape, but I know even an uncut one when I see it. Where did an elf who has never been to Shayd get an enhancer gem?”

  “Far be it for me to stop the entertainment, but she can’t talk like that,” Vile states, his remaining eye casting light on Altia’s forehead. The figurine sighs when he sees that the enraged channeler refuses to release her hold. “Guess being a hero is beyond your ability. We know Nyx does stuff like this, but I doubt she’s lost her temper over a rock. The enhancer gems dissolve when the bonded chaos elf dies, so it isn’t like she robbed one of your people. Have you ever considered that one of your own smuggled it out and traded it for asylum?”

  “I found it when I was living on the streets of Gaia. It was after your army captured the docks,” Altia explains as soon as the grip on her neck eases. Dropped to the floor, she pulls out a rag and wipes at the thin trails of flowing blood. “Honestly, I didn’t know what it was until a week later and I’d already made it into a necklace. Probably should have traded it for food, but I really liked it. One could say it’s become my lucky charm since it led me to the Garians and brought me here. Look, I didn’t think it was that big a deal.”

  “You’re wearing a piece of my culture around your neck,” Trinity growls, her temper threatening to erupt again. Spotting the request plate on the floor, she grabs the piece of wood and waves it in the red-haired elf’s face. “I’d ask for no more lies, but I get the feeling that would be too much for you. Quail is going to stay by your side until our business is done. Now, help us or I’m going to fuse this board to your-”

  The channeler jumps back when Quail and Altia both grab for the request plate, the pair saying together, “Door in the floor!”

  “Saying it louder and at the same time doesn’t help us understand that foolishness any better,” the Lich states, his voice sounding like it is far away. The faint image of the rotting necrocaster materializes above one of the pits, the powerful magic trying to drag him into the abyss. “I don’t like this place. Feels like I could become lost in here forever. Please explain and get us out.”

  The young man and woman attempt to head for the passages, but they walk in opposite directions without letting go of the plate. A brief standoff occurs with neither of them wanting to let the other test their idea. To avoid getting in more trouble with Trinity, Altia lets go and remains half a step behind Quail. When the chaos elf drops the request plate into the pit, the wood warps and stretches to cover the opening. Two handles sprout from the new door and allow the mapper to pull the large circle into a standing position. He is stopped when he finds that he cannot force the entrance open, but Altia quickly leans around him to knock. With a soft creak, the doors open to reveal the start of a wide, wooden bridge that has no railings and heads into a darkness that is broken by a single pinprick of light in the distance.

  “This is why only the council can come in here and not get lost,” Altia states with a proud smil
e. She catches Quail by his waistband and holds out her hand, the elf’s fingers playfully wiggling. “I’m sorry if I overstep my bounds here, but I suggest taking my hand and letting me lead the way. You seem to have a habit of falling.”

  “Sorry about that. It’s this Troll Ring, which-” Quail starts to argue, freezing when he sees the impish spark in the young woman’s eyes. Nervously taking her hand, he ignores the muffled laughter of the others as they walk through the doorway. “I . . . Uh . . . I could just take the ring off and not be a burden to you.”

  “You are always so adorable.”

  *****

  “Are you sure we should leave them so far behind?” Nimby asks, glancing over his shoulder at Altia and Quail. A howling wind shakes the bridge, which swings and causes the halfling to clench his eyes shut. “This thing is going to give me vertigo since I can’t see either end. It’s like standing on a platform in thin air and not knowing if this is the moment where it plummets toward the ground. Can’t imagine what those two are feeling if an experienced thief like me is suffering. We really shouldn’t be this far apart.”

  “Those two will be fine since she has no reason to kill him,” Trinity replies as she stares into the darkness. Piercing the shadows with a spell, she can barely make out smooth walls that are dotted with patches of squat mushrooms. “Altia is keeping some secrets, so I want to leave her alone for a bit. She’s taken a liking to Quail, so maybe she’ll drop her guard around him and slip like before. She seems to speak without thinking when excited, which works in our favor.”

  “Unless it’s an act,” the Lich quickly suggests. A sudden movement of the bridge causes him to give full control to Nimby until he is sure they are stable again. “You, myself, and Nimby have all played the game where you get close to an enemy by acting as a friend. Her foolish outbursts have allowed her to stay with us, which could be the point. What if the Baron is aware of our quest and has sent a new agent to stop us? That would explain her necklace.”

  From Trinity’s shoulder, Vile snorts in derision and tightens his hold on her hair. “Only an idiot would wear something so obvious. Arthuru might be desperate for help since Nyder never leaves Shayd and Yola has been exiled, but this girl doesn’t strike me as his type of agent. She is far too friendly and breakable. My guess is that we’re dealing with a treasure hunter who wishes to plunder the vault and blame us for the crime.”

  “Where would she put all of the books?” Trinity asks, thinking about how the elf has no pouches or pockets. Remembering how Quail protected his tools by swallowing them, the channeler becomes a little more nervous and stops to let the others catch up. “They seem to know her pretty well in the library, which means she’s been here for a while. Maybe paranoia is blinding me to the obvious. Altia is obsessed with chaos elves and finding an enhancer gem might have been what triggered her interest. The evasiveness and hiding behind lies is what many think my people do. She’s acting, but the reason for it could be anything from planning an assassination to this simply being her personality. Let’s play nice with our guide, but keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”

  “Did you know Altia has started writing a book on chaos elf culture?” Quail asks even though he knows the answer. Sensing tension in the group, he bows his head and is about to kneel when the bridge shakes. “Sorry that I was distracted, your . . . Lady Trinity. She was asking questions about our people and I saw no reason to hold my tongue. It would be great for Gar’s Library to hold a book about our history. She said that copies would be made and shared with the temples. Anyway, the map says we keep moving . . . that’s odd. I don’t see the bridge on here anymore.”

  “A spell is collapsing,” the Lich hisses while spinning Nimby around. Holding out both arms, the necrocaster realizes that the shadows are steadily consuming the bridge. “I don’t know what is going on, but it can’t be good. We might be losing all light and have to finish crossing in full darkness. That’s the best option. It’s also possible we’re about to fall into an abyss when the bridge disappears.”

  “Like any of those fat priests could traverse this bridge faster than us!” Vile exclaims, his voice echoing for an instant.

  None of them dare to move as the shadows build up enough speed to devour the bridge and travelers within seconds. Only their heavy breathing and the occasional shift of a foot can be heard in the darkness. A gentle wind comes from ahead, the faint taste of salt touching their lips and tongues. The roar of an ocean rises from below, which makes the group feel disoriented and worried. A shudder runs along the bridge that remains beneath their feet, the jerky movement making them believe they are being moved. The song of gulls erupt from all around them as the tiny dot of light from before returns. It grows into a wall that rockets forward to erase the darkness and temporarily blind the travelers. Everyone remains frozen in place, including Vile and the Lich who are surprised that they have been affected by the light spell.

  When their senses return, the small group finds themselves on a stone walkway that juts out of a mountainside. The path is wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side, the roughly hewn edges looking brittle. Waves lap at the arch-shaped supports, which are covered in barnacles and starfish. A flock of penguins sits on a nearby cliff, the birds paying no attention to the intruders as they dive into the distant waves in search of fish. The animals land with loud splashes and erupt with enough momentum to easily land back on the mountain. Gulls hover around the other birds, the greedy squawkers swooping in to snatch food from the returning hunters. Looking ahead, the travelers can see at least fifty structures that are shaped like giant scepters. Sunlight glints off gems that are embedded in the dark stone, the effect attracting flocks of long-tailed birds. The towers sit three miles off the mysterious coast, but only the one before the travelers has a walkway while the others remain inaccessible.

  “At least we know how far we have to go,” Nimby states while tightly gripping his shortsword. The calm and natural setting makes him fear that something is about to attack, every sound making him hold his breath. “I’m not even going to ask how we got to the ocean after being so far inland. We should sprint for the building before things start happening. I’ll keep an eye on the water in case the danger comes from down there.”

  “Good idea,” Trinity replies without really listening to her companion. Walking forward, she rubs at her forehead and does her best to fend off a looming headache. “Think I’m still suffering from that last spell. My eyes can’t focus on much. Somebody else should take the lead until I get myself together. At least I can walk in a straight line.”

  “I’ll walk behind you just to be safe,” Quail offers while Nimby moves ahead. The chaos elf takes a quick look at his map, which has gone blank. “The mapper spell on here is very confusing. I’ve never heard of one being altered by traps or becoming useless due to a sudden change in terrain. Even using a gateway shouldn’t have caused trouble. Perhaps the older enchantments are more sensitive. Still, this means I’m useless until we get the diary and leave the library. Even then, I can’t guarantee that the map will be revived.”

  “Nothing in the sea or up ahead!” Nimby calls back as they reach the middle of the walkway. A chill runs up his spine and he glances at his skeletal hand to see that a grinning face is etched into his palm. “What do you sense, Tyler? I’m not in the mood for games. Remember that me getting torn to shreds leaves you with a body that can’t enter towns. Do you really want to get stuck in the shadows again?”

  “I was merely thinking about a funny joke that involves a halfling, a minotaur, and a canoe,” the necrocaster casually replies. A twitch of the thumb betrays his nervousness, but he clears his non-existent throat to recover his self-control. “To be honest, I’m not much of an adventurer. All of this travelling is tiring and I’m having trouble maintaining my power. This is why I prefer to stay within my lair and only leave when I have the advantage. For example, I lack the ability to fly, which means I’m no help in this situation.”


  “Fly?”

  The loud wind dies down for an instant, but it is enough for Nimby to catch the sound of large wings. Seeing that there is nothing ahead, he whirls around and sees that a flock of harpies have left the mountainside. Their talons are dark black with spots of dried blood that match the splotches on their bare chests and hideous faces. Wild hair waves behind them as they make a half-hearted dive at the travelers, the creatures splitting into two groups and wheeling away to see how their prey reacts to their feint. The agile beasts back away when Trinity hurls thin lightning bolts, the spells barely visible until they are about to strike. Due to their random movements, only one of the harpies is struck and sent careening into the ocean. The others unleash a unified shriek that turns into a bolt of force strong enough to knock the channeler off her feet. She nearly falls off the walkway, but Quail catches her by the waist and pulls her to the ground as the next blast sails over them.

  A third attack hits Altia, but it is a glancing blow that spins the elf like a top instead of pushing her off the bridge. Reaching under her chainmail, she pulls out a whip and cracks it over her head. She moves away from the group and gets the harpies to follow, her flexible weapon keeping the cautious creatures at bay. The instant she stops to wave the others ahead, the flock dives and raises their talons to tear the elf apart. Altia leaps off the walkway and catches one of the beasts around the leg with her whip. She is yanked into the air where she does her best to kick at the pursuing harpies. The one she is dangling from repeatedly tries to stop and attack, but the disgusting thought of sharing its food forces it to try and outfly the rest of the flock. To the travelers’ relief and surprise, all of the screeching harpies focus on Altia, which gives them a clear path to the building.