Technically, Vicky had dealt with the hydra. The three of them had been supposed to work together to defeat it, but both he and James had recognised the value of simply getting out of her way. It was quicker, easier, and it let Timmy catch up on his homework. Vicky had simply dodged the hydra’s acid and punched it with enough force to turn it into a scaly pancake. Monstrous regeneration or not, it was not going to get back up from that.
“And we’ve still got another two days before we have to head back. Why not take a quick jaunt through the woods and have a little look into what I’m sure will be a nice, harmless tomb?”
Timmy felt morally obligated to point out the obvious. “These aren’t woods, Vicky. We’re in the middle of an overgrow forest that has already attempted to murder us five times in the past hour. We’ve fought off carnivorous plants, corrupted tree-folk, and what I’m pretty sure was a giant, rabid badger.” He grimaced. “And I’d bet my shovel that this is not going to be a nice, harmless tomb. It’s going to be an ancient tomb filled with lots of crazy traps and murderous creatures.”
James looked as though he’d swallowed a particularly sour lemon. “I hate to agree with the fool over there, but I haven’t got a choice this time. He’s right. There’s no guarantee that we’ll find anything useful, and this place feels evil. As someone with light magic, surely you can sense it. There is darkness here, Victoria. Great darkness.”
“It could be because this tomb and this whole forest are supposedly haunted by the spirits of the damned,” Vicky replied cheerfully. “At least, that’s what the villagers said when I asked them.” She laughed. “But you know villagers. They like to exaggerate. It’s probably something they do to bring in more tourists.”
Timmy shook his head. “No, James is right. This place is evil.”
As a necromancer who’d been raised in a castle built upon incomprehensible gulfs of unimaginable evil, he knew evil when he felt it. Of course, he couldn’t actually say that since he was posing as a regular student. Vicky might have found it amusing, but James would either try to arrest him or go running straight to the authorities. Unfortunately, neither he nor James could simply turn around and leave despite how much more sensible it would be.
There was something very wrong with the forest here, and Timmy was certain it had ways of preventing them from leaving. Almost as though it could read his mind, the forest stirred around them. The tall, twisted trees began to shift and sway, and a deep, eerie groan filled the air. The grass lengthened, and vines crept along the ground, winding their way up trees and tumbling off branches. Wonderful. He could either go into the tomb full of evil or try to hack his way through a forest full of evil. And it was a big forest.
He pursed his lips. Maybe Vicky could summon something to fly them over the forest? It wasn’t like the forest could get them if they were in the air, right? Once again, the forest acted as though it could read his mind. The trees grew with startling speed, and a vast, razor-sharp canopy rose above them. It was the middle of the day, but only a few beams of sunlight managed to make it through the canopy. This got better and better.
“Did the villagers happen to say anything else?” Timmy asked. He kept one eye on the forest. Where there was one giant, rabid badger, there could easily be two or even ten.
Vicky clapped her hands together, and both Timmy and James winced as the sound echoed down the long, dark passageway in front of them. “I’m glad you asked. They might have said something about being able to undo the curse on the forest by defeating the evil slumbering inside this tomb.” She winked. “So, you see, we’ll actually be doing this whole region a service if we go in there and wipe out whatever nasties call this place home.” She struck another thoughtful pose. “And think of it this way: if we can get good grades for killing a hydra, imagine how good our grades will be if we lift a curse affecting an entire forest.”
Timmy liked good grades, and he normally liked Vicky’s upbeat attitude. However, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d considered things from his point of view. Unless the thing inside the tomb was some kind of demon god, she would be fine. Even if it were, she would probably still be fine. The way she’d dealt with the hydra was proof of her ability to annihilate whatever was troubling her. It wasn’t every day that someone simply marched up to a hydra and punched it hard enough to completely overwhelm its regeneration and turn it into a bloody smear. Vicky, of course, had gone one step further. She’d managed to avoid getting even a drop of blood or gore on her. It was yet another timely reminder that Vicky’s position at the top of the class was not simply because of her excellence in academics. She also topped all of the practical exercises too, especially the combat-related ones.
When Vicky fought people, she didn’t beat them. She crushed them. It didn’t matter if it was fellow students or even recent graduates and the occasional instructor. She beat them all. Timmy had a feeling that even his master, a paragon of malevolent power, would think twice before picking a fight with her. Oh, Vicky didn’t have his master’s experience yet, but she was monstrously powerful, unbelievably talented, and a frighteningly quick learner. If Vicky and his master fought, she would most likely wade through his master’s attacks, and his master, being an arrogant jerk, would let her take a swing at him. That swing would pulverise his internal organs and shatter every bone in his body, rendering his soul-destroying magic utterly moot. And if that didn’t work, Timmy was sure Vicky could come up with something. Her magic was not only insanely powerful but also insanely versatile.
She could form lances that could pierce through almost anything, chains that were virtually unbreakable, and swords that could slice and dice like blades out of legend. He’d once caught her using her magic to take notes after she’d forgotten to bring something to write with to one of their classes. It wasn’t like Vicky was flailing around when it came to weapons either. She was arguably better with a sword than anyone at the academy, and she was a devastating hand-to-hand fighter even without her magic. Frankly, Timmy was morbidly curious to know what would happen if Vicky ever fought at full strength. There would undoubtedly be lots of property damage and mountains of dead bodies.
“Yes, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Timmy would most likely not be fine if there was something truly menacing in the tomb. He looked at James. The other teenager appeared to be considering a dash through the trees. James was powerful, but he was not going to get past a whole forest of evil trees and who knew what else. “We’re not going to change her mind, and it’s not like the forest is going to let us walk away. Come on. The sooner we deal with whatever is in the tomb, the sooner we can go back to the inn and enjoy a nice, hot meal without worrying if we’ll live to see tomorrow.
Timmy sighed wistfully. “I could really go for some homemade chicken soup. It’s been ages since I had any.” He could vaguely remember what his mother’s chicken soup had tasted like, but chicken soup had been in short supply ever since he’d become his master’s apprentice. Even if his master had been the sort of person to make chicken soup, Timmy would have been worried about him poisoning it as some kind of training exercise.
“You’re a simpleton,” James muttered. His blue eyes narrowed. “But you’re not wrong. The sooner we deal with this, the sooner we can leave.” It went unsaid that their only hope of getting through the forest was to either deal with the evil in the tomb or to get Vicky to turn back. The former would be difficult, but the latter would be impossible.
“That’s the spirit.” Vicky punched the air. Behind them, countless pairs of malicious eyes peered out from the shadows of the trees. “We’ll be done in a jiffy, you’ll see.” She grinned. “And you two are with me. Anything that wants to kill either of you has to get through me first.” She paused. “Actually, James, you’re on your own.”
“Why am I not surprised to hear you say that,” James retorted. He glared at Timmy. “You spend far too much time around him.”
“And you wonder why,” Vicky said teasingly. “When you’re such che
erful company. Lighten up. This is a group assessment, James. I’d lose a lot of marks if I didn’t come back with both of you.”
“How reassuring,” James drawled. “I shall try not to die. I’d hate for you to get a lower grade.”
The three of them made their way down the passageway. Each of them had crystals for light, and each of them knew the basic runes for light. However, Vicky was happy to provide some additional light, courtesy of small spheres of radiance that trailed ahead of them and drifted along behind them. The spheres also had the bonus of extending Vicky’s awareness. Vicky would probably know about anything their light fell upon.
As they walked, Timmy took careful note of the various inscriptions and other decorations on the walls, floor, and ceiling. Whoever had built this place had put a lot of effort into it although the grime and muck that had accumulated suggested that either there wasn’t any protective magic or it was no longer working properly. It was thanks to his keen examination of their surroundings – his master had instilled a healthy sense of paranoia in him when it came to traps, ambushes, and nasty surprises although it wasn’t actually paranoia since his master really was out to get him – that he spotted the first trap before they triggered it.
“Stop!” Timmy barked.
“What?” Vicky asked as she paused mid stride in an impressive display of quick reflexes. Not far off, James had one hand on a pouch full of coins, ready to shoot them at anything that so much as looked at him funny.
Timmy pointed to a large, finely carved statue of a young woman with a lyre. “That statue shouldn’t be there. It doesn’t fit the pattern for the rest of this corridor. It could be a trap.”
“Well spotted!” Vicky grinned. “Should we trigger it and deal with it?”
Timmy didn’t know enough about this place or its history to be confident about defusing its traps. Triggering it and dealing with it now while they were prepared was the safest course of action. “Go ahead but be ready. It could explode or even try to bring the roof down on us.”
Vicky’s magic stirred, an ocean of power at the ready. “Go ahead, James.”
James flicked a coin at the statue. The statue gave a ponderous groan and then ripped free of the floor. It was tall, perhaps ten feet in height, and now that it was moving, Timmy could get a better sense of the magic flowing through it. It was most likely enchanted to some degree because his initial attempt to rip it apart with his magic was soundly repulsed. The statue trembled, and a few cracks spread along the stone, but it didn’t break apart. For an instant, he considered forcing matters before thinking better of it. He didn’t have infinite magic, so he had to avoid wasting any.
A surge of power swept down the corridor, and Timmy’s lips curled. Now that one of the traps had been activated, the magic built into the ruins had activated as well. Today must not have been his lucky day. Almost the entire structure was made of stone, but it was protected from his earth magic. On the upside, he’d been expecting it. Earth magic wasn’t the rarest thing in the world, and building tombs out of stone without the proper protection would have been stupid. The ancients might have been crazy, evil, and twisted, but they hadn’t been stupid.
“Not bad,” James conceded as he stepped past Timmy. “Since you detected it, it’s only fair that I deal with it.”
Timmy had to admit that James was good with his magic. A coin wouldn’t normally have done much damage to something made of solid stone. But a coin that had been accelerated to several times the speed of an arrow? The answer was rather different then. Few things – stone amongst them – could withstand being hit by something travelling at such high speed, especially since James’s magic could harden the object he threw. One coin slammed into the statue and punched a hole straight through it. Its stone lyre toppled out of its hands as it staggered back. The coin reversed direction and pierced another hole through the statue’s side before it was joined by several other coins. The statue reached up to ward off the coins, and the coins became a blur of metal as they pierced through the statue over and over again. Seconds later, the statue came apart with a boom, and chunks of stone rolled across the floor.
“Well,” Timmy said, poking one of the larger chunks with his shovel before he decided to pocket a few smaller pieces in case he needed something to use his magic on. “If whatever is in here didn’t already know we were here, they most definitely do now.”
“I’d like to see you kill it without making a sound,” James muttered in irritation. “What would you do, club it to death with your shovel?”
“Yes, and it would still be quieter than what you did.” Timmy paused. “I’m starting to get a feel for this place’s magic. It reminds me of some other tombs I’ve visited.”
“I think you mean robbed,” James countered.
“Robbed, visited, it’s all the same.” Timmy grinned. “Whoever owned this place has been dead for centuries, and they were most likely horribly unpleasant. I’m not about to shed tears for some ancient king who worked his people to death to build a monument to himself.” He looked down the corridor. “If I’m right, we should keep moving forward. If this place follows the usual layout, we should come to a large open area. There will likely be a monument or other large object of some kind. The entrance to the lower levels, which are usually the more interesting areas, should be concealed inside it. It’s what people usually do.”
Vicky slung one arm around Timmy’s shoulders. “See, Timmy? We made the right decision. With you as our guide, we’ll be fine.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “And… more interesting areas?”
Timmy tried to pry Vicky’s arm off his shoulder without any luck. “It’s where the treasure usually is if there is any. The most difficult traps and deadliest guardians tend to be found there too.”
“Fantastic.” Vicky nodded sagely and gave Timmy what he supposed was meant to be an evil grin. However, Vicky didn’t do evil very well. If anything, it came across as kind of vaguely mischievous. “I feel like a proper criminal now.” She chuckled. “Let’s go rob this tomb!”
“What happened to its archaeological significance?” James muttered as he trailed after them. “But I do hope there is something worth our time down here because I know this will be troublesome.”
They continued down the corridor. This section’s decorations were far cruder than the earlier section’s. It made Timmy wonder if the earlier workers had angered the king and, in typical ancient fashion, gotten themselves executed by the presumably tyrannical despot. It could also be that whoever had ordered the construction of the tomb had gone insane at some point and ordered a hodgepodge of different artwork.
It was something he’d seen more than once. Indeed, the two could be related. It wasn’t unusual for kings to go mad with power and order the execution of the more skilled artists and craftsmen after they baulked at their increasingly bizarre demands. Whoever was still alive once the executions were finished then got the dubious honour of trying to finish the tomb in a manner befitting a king. Needless to say, that rarely ended well. Timmy had even raided one tomb in which an ancient monarch had filled an entire pit with the skeletons of those who’d betrayed them. Having explored the rest of that tomb, which strongly resembled the fever dream of a particularly drunk dwarf, Timmy could hardly blame the workers for rebelling.
Nevertheless, the corridor’s decorations still told a story, one that he followed to keep himself amused. Most ancient kingdoms followed a similar descent into the scrapheap of history, but there were sometimes interesting variations. He couldn’t read all of the inscriptions, but he knew languages that were similar enough for him to do some educated guesswork. As they rounded a corridor and reached an antechamber of some sort, he stopped near a pedestal upon which was a large statue of a broad-shouldered man in armour. He had a shield in one hand and a sword in the other, and stylised flames filled the space behind him.
“Interesting.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” James grumbled. His gaze shi
fted restlessly around the antechamber. “What is it this time? I suppose fighting another statue would be too easy. Are they going to flood the corridor with molten lava?”
“No,” Timmy said. “I’ve seen that done before. You’re got to be near a volcano to make it work consistently. Yes, you can make lava with magic, but when you think about how long the magic would have to last and how much power it would need to be effective, you’re better off just siphoning lava from a nearby volcano.” He pointed at the pedestal. “If I’m reading this right, the king who built this tomb was renowned not only for his power and wealth but also for the strength of his four greatest generals.” Timmy smiled thinly. “I’m guessing we’ll have to deal with them before we can get out of here. The statue on this pedestal is supposed to be a likeness of one of them.” He gestured. “If this is accurate, we’re looking at a guy who uses a sword and shield. And look at these flames. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that he has fire magic.” He paused. “Or it could be a trick. If it were me, I’d totally fool people into believing I have fire magic when I’ve actually got water magic or something.”
“Wonderful.” James ran one hand through his dark hair. “I hate fire.”
Timmy could sympathise. James’s magic was basically a form of telekinesis with some ability to alter the physical properties of objects thrown in. His most common method of using it was to increase the hardness and durability of small objects like coins or pebbles before hurling them at his opponents at speeds that made arrows look slow. For James, controlling objects was fairly straightforward, so attacking him with arrows, throwing knives, or other projectiles was generally an exercise in futility. But fire was a different story. It was far more difficult for him to control.
To make matters worse, James could also use coins and other small objects defensively. With his magic behind it, James could block a sword with a coin, but a coin or two wouldn’t do much against a wave of flame. Hopefully, they’d be able to find some stone or rock that wasn’t shielded from outside magic. Timmy and James could both use it, and although Timmy’s cloak was reasonably fire resistant – his master had taught him the importance of being prepared in the most painful ways possible – real fire magic would still leave him feeling less than overjoyed. In other words, he’d be incinerated.
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