Rise of the Grandmaster

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Rise of the Grandmaster Page 54

by Bradford Bates


  Unexplained deaths? As if being in prison wasn’t bad enough, now he had to worry about something else. The last thing Tim wanted to do was get embroiled in a quest chain at the prison. He didn’t have time to figure out this mystery. There was a man of the cloth that needed to meet his demise.

  “Oh, I think he’ll be fine with the rest of the population.” Glaring at Richard, the sheriff slowly nodded his head. “And I don’t want to hear anything else about it.”

  “I’d like to hear more about it,” Tim cut in. “If you have men suffering from some kind of illness, maybe I can help.”

  The sheriff turned his dark, soulless eyes on Tim. “Please join me in my office for a moment.” He pointed to the room he previously exited, and from the tone of his voice, Tim knew it wasn’t a request.

  Tim followed the sheriff into the tiny room and took a seat as he noted the placard resting on the desk, proclaiming it the property of Sheriff Jon Hobbs. Jon’s massive belly brushed against Tim as he squeezed around the desk before finally falling into his seat.

  This might be Tim’s only chance to get a word in, so he decided to go for it. “I think there has been some kind of mistake.”

  “A mistake? Oh, I don’t think so. The cardinal was very clear in his instructions.” The sheriff tapped a letter on his table. “He wanted you removed from the equation, and here you are.” He opened his hands as if to say, “See, it’s simple.”

  “But I’ve committed no crime. The healing I’ve done was sanctioned by the high priest. When he finds out what happened, there will be hell to pay.” It was all bluster, but it was the only card Tim had to play.

  “Oh, I think not. By the end of today, everyone will have forgotten about you.” The sheriff had a sickly sweet smile on his face. “That is what I specialize in—making problems disappear.”

  Tim scoffed at the notion of him disappearing. “If you wanted to be discreet, you shouldn’t have sent twenty men to round me up.” Tim noted the little tick above the sheriff’s right eye. He’d scored a point. “When my friends find out I’m here, they will come for me.”

  “We’ve got plenty of room.” Jon Hobbs was back in control now. Being threatened seemed to harden his resolve. “Now, let’s get to the business of the day so I can get back to mine, and you can start commiserating about your poor life choices.”

  The sheriff stood and pointed at a poster on his wall. “The rules are simple. No fighting, no stealing, no bullshit.” He tapped the poster. “We count on the prisoners themselves to enforce these rules. The only time you will see any of my men is when it’s chow time or when we’re dropping in some fresh meat.”

  Jon had a cruel smile on his face as he pointed at Tim. “You’re today’s catch.”

  Tim didn’t like the implication that he was fresh meat. Fresh for what, the grinder? He tried to keep his face calm as the sheriff continued his spiel.

  “Twice a day, we bring in food, mostly hard biscuits and stew, but every now and then, we splurge, and you get a potato.” The sheriff smiled at Tim as if getting a potato should be every man’s fondest wish.

  I’m totally fucked.

  Jon grinned. “I knew you were a potato man.” He winked at Tim. “Just between you and me, we might be having them for dinner in honor of your arrival. The other prisoners will be thrilled."

  Tim shook his head to clear it. Why was the sheriff giving him the normal “hope you are a model prisoner” shtick when there might be an illness inside of the prison? Didn’t he have the right to know?

  Raising his hand to interject, Tim spluttered, “So what about these deaths?”

  Sheriff Hobbs took a seat. All the good humor he’d been showing while trying to ruin Tim’s life drained from his face. “It’s true. We’ve had something mysterious happening in the dungeon, but I’m not sending any of my men to investigate it.”

  The sheriff leaned his chair back and rested his hands on his belly. “Frankly, no one’s going to miss a few inmates. The only thing I’m worried about is making sure whatever is afflicting them doesn’t spread outside these walls.”

  Something didn’t feel right to Tim. This man seemed awfully relaxed, considering there might be some kind of plague brewing under the city. He thought about his trip over here and all of the men he encountered. None of them seemed sick. Was there a chance these men were infecting the prisoners on purpose?

  There was no way for Tim to be certain of what was happening. The one thing he did know was that he wouldn’t be getting out of this today. For all of his bluster, he was going to be thrown in the dungeon. The last thing he wanted to do before they tossed him in was make the sheriff upset.

  “But these are my worries.” Jon Hobbs leaned forward, eyes locking onto Tim’s like an owl hunting a mouse. “All you have to worry about is following the rules.”

  “No fighting, no stealing, no bullshit,” Tim chanted. “I won’t be a problem.”

  Sheriff Hobbs stood up with a smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “See that you aren’t. Those boys down there aren’t the forgiving sort if you know what I mean.”

  Tim was pretty sure the sheriff meant that if you got caught stealing down there, it was the last thing you’d ever get caught doing. Watching Sons of Anarchy had only taught him that he didn’t want to be in prison, not how to deal with it once you were tossed in alone.

  “Follow me.” The sheriff squeezed past Tim and out into the tower again. He pointed at a man waiting by the door. “This is Davros, and he’ll be escorting you to the dungeon. Don’t give him any shit, or by God, there won’t be another potato served for a month.”

  Davros stayed just outside of the tower and motioned for Tim to join him. “Right this way.”

  If he could cast snare on the sheriff and flameburst at Davros, he might be able to make a run for it. Tim’s fingers started to twitch through the emotions of snare when he saw the five men training in the yard. There was no way he could take all of them on and win. If he lost, it would only make it harder for his friends to get him out.

  Just when things had been going so well, Jepsom had managed to take him off the board before he could do the same to him. Not only was he going to be trapped here, but the clock was ticking. He had seven days to plan and execute the cardinal. Tim wasn’t going to be able to do that from inside the dungeon.

  “Did the sheriff tell you the rules?” Davros asked as he took Tim’s arm to lead him across the courtyard.

  “Yeah, no fighting, no—”

  Davros cut him off. “Ignore all that shit. Some of these guys are going to test you. If you don’t stick up for yourself, you’re going to spend the rest of your short life naked and afraid.”

  He yanked Tim to a stop. “Just don’t do it at chow time because the guards will break everyone’s skulls, not just yours.”

  Tim wasn’t sure what to say, so he settled for a simple, “Okay.”

  The dungeon was sounding worse by the minute. First, there was something going on with a disease, and then there was the chance he’d have to win a few fights just to stay alive.

  This is why he was getting into real estate and out of being a political assassin.

  Politics and fighting with powerful people weren’t anything Tim was interested in. Let the other players have their power. All he wanted to do was make a nice living. It’d be amazing to wake up one day knowing he’d never have to worry about money again.

  Not that Tim wanted to live the millionaire lifestyle. He wasn’t into flashy things. All he wanted was a nice home to call his own and to make sure his parents could take care of his brother and sister without stressing out. If he could do that, he’d consider himself rich in more ways than one.

  Davros opened the gate to a set of stairs leading under the tower. “Sorry about the smell. There isn’t a lot of ventilation.”

  “Might be why the prisoners keep getting sick,” Tim quipped before he could stop himself.

  “We didn’t have any problems before the sheriff
went to visit his sister on the other side of the mountains. When he came back, things changed.” Davros shrugged, knowing there was nothing he could do about it. “I’d say the sickness is more of a byproduct. The inmates had these marks on their…”

  “Ah, Davros, fresh meat for the grinder,” a guard inside a second gate called as the two of them approached.

  “Sure is, Stan. Make sure he gets in safely. They say he’s some kind of healer.” Davros motioned for Tim to join the guard inside the gate.

  Tim paused before going in. He wanted to know what Davros had been about to tell him, but the man’s reaction to the other guard gave him pause. At the last second, he turned his question into gratitude. “Thank—” All the air rushed out of Tim’s lungs as Davros’ fist slammed into his belly.

  “Just remember what I said.” Davros shoved Tim toward the entrance.

  Lesson number one, don’t thank the guards for shit. Tim snickered as his stomach relaxed and it became easier to breathe. Not that the air in here smelled very good. He turned toward the gate, taking one last breath of fresh air before following the guard inside.

  The smell inside the dungeon reminded Tim of the time he’d walked into a room with mold. They weren’t kidding when they said that stuff could kill you. Inhaling black mold was toxic in all kinds of ways. He imagined he was being walked into Mold Central. Next thing you know, shit was going to spiral out of control like in The Andromeda Strain.

  Part of him wanted to believe it was mold or something to do with the dead not being removed from their cells fast enough, but he just couldn’t do it. People didn’t get funky marks on them from disease. Yes, they could get sores, but marks sounded like something was biting the prisoners.

  Stan locked the gate and took a lantern from beside the door. “Let’s go.”

  Tim followed Stan down a set of winding stairs. They reached the bottom four minutes later. Here there was another door, but this time the lock was on their side. Stan put his keys in the lock and opened the passage.

  “In you go.” Stan made a little shooing motion.

  Tim stepped inside the door and jumped as it slammed back into place. This was it, for better or worse; he was inside the dungeon. There was a mysterious illness, and maybe some kind of monster down here.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  “How long has it been?” Cassie asked as she slumped against the wall of the pit.

  ShadowLily slid down the dirt wall and sat next to her friend. “Since I sent the message or since we’ve been down here?”

  “Whichever one gets us help first.” Cassie used her heels to dig furrows in the ground as she thought about their situation. ShadowLily’s class quest had been so easy, it had given her too much confidence in her own. She couldn’t stop beating herself up for getting them into this mess. There was no way out of the pit unless the lizard-men let them out.

  “It’s been three hours since I messaged Tim and JaKobi. I haven’t heard anything back.” ShadowLily frowned. “And that has me worried. Tim might not be Johnny-on-the-spot with his messages, but he always responds.”

  Taking a calming breath, the half-elf leaned her head against Cassie’s shoulder. “What could they possibly be doing?”

  “You’ve really got it bad, huh?” Cassie asked with a grin. They might be trapped, but it was always the right time to poke fun at your friends.

  “What do you mean?” ShadowLily asked as she sat up straight.

  Cassie was grinning from ear to ear now. It was dark at the bottom of the pit, so she wasn’t sure her bestie could see it, but she was sure ShadowLily would hear it in her voice. “You’re so in love with Tim that even while we’re stuck in a pit waiting to be eaten by hungry lizard-men, all you’re thinking about is if he’s okay.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Oh, shit, indeed.” Cassie laughed. “You’re in the love zone.”

  “Better than The Twilight Zone?” ShadowLily snarked before gently leaning the back of her head against the wall of the pit. “When did this happen?” Then, in a more panicked tone, “Do you think he feels the same way?”

  “Girl, you’ve had him locked up since day one. Only way you’re getting rid of him now is if you burn him off like a leech.” The tank hopped to her feet and started pacing the pit. She hated being still, and that was why she couldn’t wait for them to become adventurers. No more of this going-to-work shit. They were going to be epic.

  ShadowLily would have smacked Cassie if she could see her. “Gross.”

  “It’s true. He’s stuck on you like gum on the bottom of your shoes.” Cassie smiled again. “And we all know how hard that shit is to get off.”

  ShadowLily was starting to come out of her shock. “There should be a law against people spitting their gum on the sidewalk.”

  “The first execution in what has been dubbed by some on social media as the bubble gum disposal act will air live tonight at nine.” Cassie started to giggle. “Problem solved. No one is going to risk spitting that shit on the sidewalk ever again.”

  “At least The Etheric Coast is safe from those horrible criminals. They don’t have gum or sidewalks here.” ShadowLily extended her hands out and brought them together like she was a giant crocodile. “Imagine how those lizards would look with a mouthful of gum.”

  “That shit would go viral on Twitter for sure. People would look at one another at work and be like, hey, did you see that video where the lizard was trying to chew gum?” Cassie brushed off the seat of her pants. She had a thing about being dirty; she didn’t like it one fucking bit.

  Gazing up into the darkness, Cassie shouted, “Hey, lizard-for-brains.” She took a deep breath and then belted, “Any chance we can hurry this the fuck up?”

  No one responded to her shout, and Cassie slammed her fist into the hard-packed earth of the wall. “I wish they’d just get it over with. This waiting around shit is killing me.”

  ShadowLily patted the ground next to her. “Why don’t you try to get some rest? When they come for us, we’re going to need our energy.”

  Cassie sat down and cuddled against her friend. Her mind was spinning, and she was worried they might not actually make it out of this. Despite the parade of random thoughts circling her mind, the little tank’s eyes started to close. All that running must have really taken it out of her.

  Orange light flickered through the darkness, stinging Cassie’s eyes.

  “Why in the fuck is it so bright?” Cassie looked at ShadowLily, and a chorus of drums sounded from overhead.

  The drums had the effect of putting her on edge, but not as much as the giant cage the lizard-men had lowered into the pit while they’d been sleeping. The cage was made out of bent branches tied together with thick green vines. Stuck out in a circle around the cage were five torches.

  After sleeping in the dark for so long, the lights seemed impossibly bright. “You think the green bastards would have a little more respect for the two finest ladies they’ve ever laid eyes on,” Cassie groused as she blinked.

  ShadowLily walked over to the cage to inspect it. “I think we’re supposed to get in.

  “No way.” Cassie scrambled to her feet. “There isn’t a horror movie out today where climbing into a cage had a happy ending. Shit, even in the Disney movies, getting in a cage normally means someone is trying to eat you.”

  ShadowLily looked at the lip of the pit fifteen feet above their heads. “It’s not like we have a choice. Unless you’ve thought of another way to get out of here?”

  “It’s not like anyone could think with all that racket.” Cassie motioned above them, indicating the relentless sound of the drums. She joined ShadowLily by the door. “Let’s just do it.”

  “I’m happy you said that. That way, when this all turns to shit, I can blame you. I always find it feels better not to be the one who fucked up.” ShadowLily opened the door to the cage and stepped inside. “I can’t believe the boys back at the inn never messa
ged us back. There is going to be retribution, but not until I get an ice-cold beer.”

  “Shit,” Cassie blurted as she joined ShadowLily in the wooden cage. “I haven’t checked my messages since we got up.” It took her a few seconds to get her user interface open and another brief moment before her messages displayed in front of her. There was one new message from JaKobi.

  We’re on the way.

  The timestamp on the message indicated it was from four hours ago. Either they’d never made it here, or they were waiting in a pit just like them. Maybe they should not have asked for help. Adding more deaths to her conscience wasn’t going to make her feel any better. Against so many lizard-men, their entire guild working together might not have survived the first wave of battle.

  “JaKobi sent me a note that said they were coming.” She closed the cage door. “I don’t think they made it.”

  “And you didn’t get anything from Tim?” ShadowLily asked worriedly.

  “Nope, but I’m sure he’s fine. Probably too busy working on one of his harebrained schemes to check his messages.” Cassie looked around and wondered when their ride to the surface would begin.

  “I hope you’re right.” ShadowLily looked morose as the cage jerked violently. Once they were moving, the cage settled, making it easy for them to stand without falling over. Getting to the top after falling on their asses wouldn’t give the right impression.

  The cage continued to rise smoothly as if they were being pulled up by a winch of some sort. The drums continued to get louder as they drew closer to the surface. Finally, they were lifted above the pit. Both women gasped as they looked at the scene below them.

  They were in a wide-open clearing. The jungle’s thick grass had been chopped or flattened. There was a throne inside the bottom half of a giant lizard’s jaw. The teeth rose over the chair like an arch with spikes. Sitting on the throne was an enormous lizard-man. The chieftain’s arms and legs were painted vibrant colors, and he wore a headdress made out of colorful feathers.

 

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