Fred (Book 6): Undeading Bells

by Hayes, Drew

  Climbing back to the ledge was more difficult with the extra weight throwing off my balance, but with no need to rush, I took my time and eventually made it on the first try. Tottering to my feet, I wobbled up to the bowl and looked down. After several seconds of staring, I finally realized the minor detail that had slipped our minds during the planning process.

  “Aw, crud. Hey, Neil, we forgot something. Vampires can’t throw up.” It was one of our curious, biological shifts that occurred during the change; my best guess was that we were simply meant to be one-track roads for liquids, though there might have been some greater metaphysical meaning in the symptom. None of which changed the problem it presented.

  From below, I heard a weary voice rise up. “Are you facing the bowl?”

  “I am. What do you—”

  Reader, this is where I will take a pause from the play-by-play and simply tell you that, unbeknownst to me, Neil had not forgotten the issue, and in fact had a spell to force an undead to empty its stomach. Useful against a vampire who’d just sucked down potent blood, no doubt, as well as when a bowl needs filling with cave-pool water. The spell was successful, and thanks to some careful aiming, I filled the bowl with a more than adequate amount of water. Curiously, even after a trip in my stomach, it looked the same as it had below: so smooth and still I was half waiting for a smaller slug monster to poke its head out of the bowl and make a bite for me.

  The audible noise from the wall confirmed that the way forward was now unlocked. Rather than check it out, I opted to first climb down and get Neil. Whether we liked it or not, we were in this together, and our best shot of making it out was if we worked as a team.

  But next time, he was going to have to be the one to chug disgusting slug-water. It was going to take some very potent blood to get that taste out of my mouth.

  5.

  **Note: Obviously, due to the separation aspect of this situation, I was unaware of what was happening with our other group at the time. Amy Wells has graciously offered to step in and recount their side of the encounter.**

  None of it made sense. Secret lair out in the middle of nowhere, sure, that’s Magecraft 101. Find somewhere isolated, a place where no one could stumble upon your experiments, be it by accident or intent. Defenses were also an obvious move for a mage looking to protect their intellectual property. The only reason I could get along without a heavily guarded home was the fact that I kept most of the truly powerful stuff in my head—and the obvious politics. Trying to mess with a mage is one thing; robbing one under Gideon’s protection would make a cartel heist seem like a sensible idea.

  The lair, I got. Everything else was where it went wrong. Shun hadn’t given off any kind of vibes that she was setting us up for something, and after dealing with enough scheming fellow casters, I tended to have a sense for it—to say nothing of the potions I had in use at the time. She read as genuine, which would be more reassuring, except that, with the right spells, it would be possible to falsely convince someone you were telling the absolute truth, at least long enough for a few phone calls. But to what end? Fred seemed like an obvious target, except this was an incredibly roundabout way to get him here. He could have easily elected to send Lillian instead of himself on this excursion, like most bosses would have.

  On top of all that, the trap we’d fallen into was ridiculously well-crafted. The room where I, Albert, and Gregor landed was huge, sealed by a large metal door that was manipulated by a complex series of pulleys and switches on the opposite side of the room. There was a puzzle involved, rudimentary as it was, though I was the only one to give the obstacle much attention post-landing. Albert had been methodically walking around, examining all of the floors and walls, while Gregor took a somewhat more… direct approach.

  Clang . Clang . Clang .

  I tried to block out the noise of strong fists slamming into the door over and over. Were it not enchanted, I daresay Gregor would have cracked through; those blows landed heavy even against the reinforced metal. However, with magic also working against him, it was a vain struggle. Someone had built this chamber to withstand true parahuman power. This wasn’t the mortal world, where we were working with cages made to hold humans. Brute force wouldn’t see us through.

  “Gregor, please stop doing that.”

  “I will halt once the door is removed, and I have properly resumed my duties.”

  It was about what I’d expected. The others might not have dealt with gargoyles much, but working with Gideon meant that I’d encountered the Slate-Claw clan a time or two. As a whole, they tended to be literal and—sorry, but sometimes puns are appropriate—stiff in most matters. Gregor was probably the most adaptable gargoyle I’d encountered, which was no doubt why he’d been chosen for the task. They weren’t stupid by any means, just direct and stubborn. And loyal ; by the boiling beakers, were they devoted to Gideon. That meant that while Gregor wouldn’t self-direct much, he’d be invaluable if I could find the right uses for him.

  “Fine, but if you do manage to break it open and trigger all those magical traps, I have a hunch this whole place will come down on our heads. Guess that really only kills me and Neil, though, so keep right on hitting if you must.”

  While there were visible trap-spells woven into the walls and door in case someone tried to skip the puzzle, I doubted the repercussions would be quite that extreme. It would just be a lot easier to evaluate things without the constant clanging.

  Halfway through the arc of their swing, Gregor’s fists halted, stopping just inches from the metal surface. Slowly, he turned to face me, uncertainty in his eyes. It looked foreign there, an expression he was neither familiar nor happy with. These were not the sorts of challenges he’d been expecting to face as a bodyguard; although, given who he was guarding, perhaps he should have. I’d never been able to figure out how someone as non-confrontational as Fred managed to end up in so many predicaments. It was a curiosity that not even magic fully accounted for.

  “From what I can tell, there are no other ways out.” Albert ambled over from the last wall he’d been inspecting. The sword clattered on his hip, undrawn, as he walked. Unlike Gregor, Albert hadn’t even suggested slicing through the barriers until he fully understood the situation. His training had begun to merge with that sensible head on his shoulders; what they were forming was new, and potentially powerful. “Every part I checked is solid. No breaks, no gaps, no light, no water, no noise. I think we either go through that door or start building lodging.”

  Getting out wasn’t actually the problem. Our exit was clear: solve the puzzle, and the door would either open or we’d get another surprise. Whichever happened, it was an obvious path forward. The greater dilemma was our situation as a whole. Someone had put a tremendous amount of effort into this place, yet nothing about it was especially tailored to us. Silver and magic in the walls would stop virtually all parahumans, and there were no factors to account for Albert’s sword. Nothing vampire-, gargoyle-, or magic-specific, either. Granted, we were only in the first room, but this was also where a target would be most vulnerable: unsteady, not sure of the situation, this would be the place to hide a proper murder attempt. But there was also the slide to consider, and the fact that where we ended up had seemed truly random. It was all based on where we’d been standing when the floor dropped—something that could be timed by an observer, yet not really planned for.

  If this was truly a cage, it wasn’t one made with us in mind. Perhaps we were a cheap beta-test, seen as easy prey to lure in before the real target was pursued. Or else I was missing something, which, truthfully, seemed like the most obvious answer. Dealing with magic is mostly the art of finding peace with ignorance. To touch it, manipulate it, engage with the fundamental forces of the universe—all took a lifetime of study and effort; to understand it, on the other hand, took the sort of absolute madness only a few had ever dared attempt. Most of us had to simply live with the fact that we wielded a primordial force of creation we would never truly fathom.r />
  After swallowing that pill, admitting that I didn’t fully grasp our weird, locked-room situation was a minor concession.

  “Sounds like it’s the door, then. Just a moment.” Given the lack of enough evidence on hand to draw a conclusion, there was only one sensible path forward: to see more of our environment and hopefully gain more data. My hands dug into the bag usually at my side—one far deeper than its shape let on—feeling around for the right bottle. I’d long ago learned that using differently sized and shaped containers let me handle this process by feel, which was much faster. After a few incidents, I also added printed labels as a failsafe, but for the most part, my fingers did the work far faster than my eyes ever had.

  A familiar form of glass hit my palm, and I pulled forth the bottle in question. One pop of the top, and down it went. As I drank, my senses expanded. Spells and wards I’d only been able to glimpse previously lit up like Christmas lights in the darkest nights of December. I could taste different nutrients in the air, hear the movements of my friends’ bodies, smell the last three meals on my breath, and feel the staleness of the air against my skin.

  Useful as it was, I loathed this potion because it was also disgusting . Humans are constantly covered in germs, dirt, oils, and other substances that we don’t mind because we have the gift of not noticing. In return for such magical clarity, I also had to deal with seeing the constant, nasty truth. That was why I’d mixed a mild sedative into the potion during its original recipe. Made the whole ordeal a lot more bearable, even if my feet did get a little tangled as I made my way over to the system of levers and pulleys.

  Behind me, I knew Gregor started forward, and Albert halted him. Just the scuffing of their feet was enough to paint me a perfect mental picture. Looking over the silver panel with my freshly enhanced senses, I saw nothing new of note. There weren’t any hidden spells or traps that I’d missed before, but at least now, I could touch the thing without fearing it might steal a finger.

  As for the puzzle, it wasn’t an especially novel one. Within the panel was a center chamber with a scale. The lever/pulley system would move unmarked weights around, some going directly to the center chamber, while others were on a more circuitous path that would require precise timing. It was clear that I needed to get the center to a specific weight to unlock the door or set off the next trap—whatever would move us forward.

  As for solving it… well, not to brag, but in my career, you get pretty good at eyeballing weights for various spells and recipes. Once you add in my exceptional senses, and the fact that I’ve got a decent brain tucked away, the puzzle really never stood much of a chance. Gregor hadn’t even had enough time to lose faith and try to walk over again before a mighty click echoed through the entire room, just before the metal doors began to open.

  Gregor went right through, not even a moment’s glance back. Gargoyles were nothing if not direct, and he had an edict from Gideon to keep Fred safe. I was grateful he’d stopped banging on the door; expecting him to hang back would be asking for a miracle.

  “Do you think the others are okay?” Albert was waiting for me, hand on the hilt of his still sheathed sword. Ready to draw, yet not eager. He was shaping up well, indeed.

  “Between Fred’s risk-aversion and Neil’s training, I have faith they would be able to weather any challenges of this level, even if there were dangerous factors in play. I’m sure they’re doing well.”

  Albert nodded in agreement, then looked to the room Gregor had dashed through. “Yeah. I don’t like it, though.”

  “Nor do I. Especially because I still don’t fully understand what is happening.” Stepping forward, I ignored all the input about the various microbes crawling on and through my skin to put a guiding hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go get more information. Once we grasp our situation, we can begin the process of restructuring it.”

  Albert and I, while friendly, had never spent as much time together as myself and Neil, since the latter was my student. I presume that’s why he looked a little nervous at the grin on my face as we pressed forward, deeper into the unknown. Neil, obviously, would have known better.

  Neil would have realized that my grin meant he should be a lot nervous. I was starting to get interested, and when I got interested, things got fun.

  6.

  **Note: Fred, here. I’ll be retaking the narrative reins as we return to a moment for which I was present.**

  With a thud, the boulder rolled away from the alcove, barreling right past where we would have been standing if Neil hadn’t noticed the subtle grooves in the path that betrayed unseen turns in the giant rock’s trajectory. This was dangerous room number three so far. After the slug and water had been a complex puzzle surrounded by swinging blades that Neil had easily breezed through, and following that had come the boulder situation. Getting it free was the relatively simple part; figuring out where to stand in the narrow expanse to avoid being flattened, that had been the real test.

  As it careened to the bottom and slammed heavily into the door we’d come through, I allowed myself a small measure of relief. This trial, at least, appeared to be over. How many more were yet to come, I had no idea, but it did feel good to be making progress.

  Neil started forward, and I darted ahead as I had several times already. He wasn’t happy about once more being relegated to the backlines, a sentiment that I could normally appreciate, yet one which made less and less sense with every passing room.

  For someone so sensitive about not being a front-line fighter, Neil had proven himself invaluable during our adventure. Not just the magic, either. What really made him so effective were his quick mind and keen eye for detail. No doubt these were necessary traits for anyone working the magical arts, and Arch had sharpened both aspects so fine, it was like he expected them to cut steel.

  What was even more ridiculous was that I’d begun to suspect Neil didn’t even realize just how competent he’d become. We were coasting through the challenges largely thanks to him, and instead of looking hopeful or encouraged, he only appeared to grow more stressed with each success.

  This wasn’t the place to try to hammer all that out; such discussions could wait until we were in safer surroundings. Yanking the new door open, I found myself unsurprised to be staring into what would be darkness to normal eyes. For me, it merely appeared to be an empty hallway, and that part was actually interesting. We’d gone from room to room with heavy sections of wall separating them, but this was our first transitional area. Maybe it meant we were nearing the end, or that the challenges were going to get harder. Hopefully, no matter what else it conveyed, the hallway was a signal we were heading in the right direction. Not that we had other directions to try, but still, it was a nice touch of reassurance.

  “Anything magical I’m missing?” While I might be a fine blockade, I lacked any talents that would let me sniff out enchantments or hidden spells. In the lair of mage, such possibilities were very real concerns, so I was trusting Neil as my mage-eyes, a prospect I’d have found far more worrying at the start of our day.

  “Loads, but none of it seems overtly dangerous. Yet. The walls here are crazy reinforced, though; looks like they’re warded to reflect back any attack they take. We must be getting close to something. Whoever made this left no chances we’d go exploring off the beaten path.”

  Taking his position directly behind me, the two of us walked into the dark hallway. Seconds later, as we knew it would, the door slammed shut. That had happened after every room transition so far, and after the first occurrence, it had stopped being such a shock. Outside the loud noise, nothing bad happened. We just weren’t allowed to backtrack, apparently.

  “Seeing as we have a few moments of walking, any new theories for what we’re up against?” It was partly a sincere question, as well as an attempt to alleviate the oppressive silence of our stone hall. Not even my supernaturally sharp ears were picking up anything aside from us, which made the whole experience more claustrophobic than I’d been expect
ing. It also reminded me of just how many tons of rock we’d be buried under if any of this came crashing down.

  There was some initial grumbling from Neil, but eventually, real words followed. “Nothing I can put a definitive finger on. Every time I think I find an angle, it doesn’t make sense. This could be a prison, but then, why let us move around at all? Maybe it’s a trap, except the challenges aren’t really all that hard; we’re more at risk of injury than death. That goes double if you ’re the target; these haven’t exactly been geared toward killing vampires. Or mages, for that matter. The design appears to account for parahumans as a general entity, which leads back to the prison idea, and ’round we go again. There’s more going on here, and we aren’t going to know what until we get additional information.”

  “But if you had to make a guess…” I kept pushing, both because I could tell that Neil actually did have something in mind, and because it beat the continued silence.

  “If I were to make an unsupported hypothesis based on conjecture and intuition… it’s a test. The whole thing is built to seem like a series of trials, so let’s take that at face value. It’s some sort of examination. Now who it was intended for, or what the purpose could be, I have genuinely no idea.”

  Since he seemed content to let the conversation drop there, I picked it up to keep the words flowing. The longer we were in the hall, the harsher the silence grew. “We can make a few guesses, if nothing else. Amy’s the most likely, as she was the one specifically requested to come here.”

  “Except anyone trying to test Amy would know to prepare much harder trials. She’d have breezed through all of these already.”

  It was sometimes hard to say how much of Neil’s devotion came from his not so well-hidden feelings for his teacher versus admiration of her skill, but on this point, he and I were in agreement. Much as Amy liked to hide in the middle of the pack and go unnoticed, I’d been privy to her true efforts and intellect a time or two. Amy had broken a trap powerful enough to hold Gideon. None of these would be a real challenge for her.