“That was much more satisfying,” Ermolt said with a grin.
With a ghost of a smile across her lips, Elise nodded in agreement. She then stepped around him and through the hole where the rock slab once was. Ermolt followed.
Beyond the scattered rock fragments, the room was more of a hallway. It was narrow and cramped, with a high ceiling. The room was lit by a few of those glowing white orbs, though these seemed to have decayed a bit worse than the ones in the library.
Set into one wall was a tall statue of a man. He had full lips and a thin moustache, and had been carved wearing a long and flowing robe, similar to the ones the corpses had been wearing.
What was different about this statue was the huge axe in its hands.
The haft was stone was carved into the statue—much to Ermolt’s disappointment—but the head of the weapon was a separate piece. All told, it was nearly twenty fen off the floor, but it was still intact and looked to be without rust.
Unless it was magic, Ermolt knew of no material that would have survived this long without a fleck of rust. Even steel would have begun to corrode by now.
The statue held the axe out in front of its face, and while the stone head of the statue touched the tall ceiling, the metal head of the axe did not.
Perhaps the most disconcerting part of it all, however, was that the way through the room required one to walk directly under that suspended axe blade.
“That doesn’t look good,” Ermolt said, staring up at the statue.
“It’s just a statue.” Elise shrugged and walked up to it. Ermolt wanted to reach out to stop her, but she was already standing at its feet, looking up. “Perhaps its part of a ritual.”
“So, then it is dangerous.” Ermolt approached behind her, carefully. “You said that the Priests had to face death constantly, right? This could be a trap.”
“Likely not.” Elise reached up and tapped the statue’s stone hip. “This is likely a ritual of trust. Ydia had a similar statue, though it held an ewer of water with a fountain built into it, instead of an axe with a metal head. You were supposed to pray beneath the statue, cross under the waters of life, and be welcomed by your new comrades.” She gestured up at the axe. “It’s likely the same principle here. Pray, pass under it, be accepted.”
Ermolt’s first thought was to ask why the entrance had been blocked with a solid slab of rock instead of a simple door if there wasn’t a potential danger here to those who weren’t prepared. But before he could ask, Elise walked right past the statue, stomping her feet for effect.
“See? There’s nothing—”
The click was deafening.
Ermolt watched in horror as the axe fell.
Elise hurled herself forward, but the falling blade was faster than she was. Luckily, her instinct had been to raise her shield, and the blade struck it instead of her shoulder. The impact shunted her out from under the trap, though she yelped in pain as she tumbled away.
“Elise!” Ermolt cried. “Are you alright?”
The giant axe slid back up into position quickly, almost as fast as it had descended. Ermolt hesitated to dive forward to help the fallen ex-Conscript.
“I’m fine.” Elise groaned and struggled to her knees. “It’s just my shoulder.” She rolled her arm a bit with a visible wince. “I didn’t expect that. Ydia’s Blessing these Priests were lunatics. This is how they welcomed new Conscripts?”
“New conscripts who need to be able to avoid death at every turn?” Ermolt grimaced up at the axe above him. “Though I find it hard to believe there were any Priests of Isadon if they all had to run under this just to get to the second floor. At least, not for very long.”
“There’s likely some hidden path forward,” Elise said, grumbling as she rotated her shoulder. “Come on then. Let’s get moving.”
“Wait, you want me to run under that now?” Ermolt asked, letting the fear show plain in his voice.
“We don’t know the way around it. You’re not as heavily armored as I am, and you’re way faster. It likely won’t even hit you.”
“Right, but I am a much bigger target.” He looked up. The axe had been over fourteen fen from the top of Elise’s head. It was barely eleven from his. “I think I would rather outsmart it than outrun it.”
“Alright,” Elise said, leaning back against the wall behind her. “Outsmart it then.”
With a grin, Ermolt brought his hammer around. He poked the ground where the axe had fallen. The uneven tiles showed a thin line where the axe head had struck, and so he started there. He easily found the trigger for the trap, but the weight of his hammer itself was not enough to set it off. Ermolt pushed on the hammer as much as he could without getting close to the axe.
Click.
He ducked back as the axe came down. It caught the head of his hammer, just below the face, and pinned it there. The handle pointed straight up. Ermolt stared at the axe for a moment, but it didn’t raise again.
“What did you do?”
“I think I broke it.” Ermolt stepped back up to the axe and knelt down, examining the blade from a respectable distance. “It’s stuck.”
“Ah. I guess it needs to touch the floor again to reset.” She pointed to the thin line in the stone tiles just below the edge of the axe.
Ermolt raised his foot up over the axe head and took an awkward step forward. When nothing happened, he drew his other foot over the axe as well.
Safely on the other side, he grinned to Elise. “There. Trap outsmarted.”
“How are you going to get your hammer back?”
Ermolt glanced to the trap. “Oh.” He grabbed the handle with one hand and tugged, but nothing happened. His other hand joined the first, and he pulled harder, putting his weight into it. Still nothing. The axe had the head of the weapon pined too well to just yank it free. He leaned over the axe and twisted the handle. The weapon turned. Ermolt started to wrench it a little, making slight progress with every twist.
The hammer’s head eventually snapped out from under the head of the axe and the trap hit the floor underneath. As soon as it did, the trap started moving back up, catching Ermolt under his outstretched arms.
He had a moment of terror as his mind’s eye saw himself riding the trap all the way back to its starting position, eventually being hurled up into the ceiling. But instead it threw him backwards, at least three fen away from the trap. He hit the ground with a grunt.
Elise stared at him. “Are you alright?”
“Nothing broken,” Ermolt said, a bit breathless. He stared up at the trap again. The axe was undamaged. What was that metal? A part of him wanted to climb up and recover the axe head to have it reforged. But if he couldn’t name the metal, it would be a long search to find a smithy who knew how to work it. He shook is head and gathered himself to his feet. “Just a bruised ego. That went from ‘outsmarting the trap’ to ‘outsmarted by the trap’ way too quickly.”
“Sadly, I have no poultice for that,” Elise said with a smile. “Come, let’s walk it off instead.”
She took a step forward towards the door, and Ermolt noticed her steps were lighter now. It was almost as if she was rolling her feet carefully over the tiles before trusting them will her full weight.
And she was right to be cautious.
They had to stop letting their guard down, or else the next time might be the last.
Chapter Seventeen
The adjoining room was lit with those same curious white globes, but otherwise was nearly empty. There was a long table at the far end of the room, but no chairs. No shelves or cabinets, either.
Elise nodded to herself. This was what she had expected.
Granted, Ydia’s version had been slightly more ornate, but it seemed like everything the God of Life did was just a little more colorful than the now-deceased God of Death.
“This is where the new recruits would be welcomed,” Elise said. She tried to ignore the wistful tilt in her voice and gestured at the long table. “There would be a celebration. Ydia�
��s version included drinks and speeches and food, all designed to welcome them to the service of the Temple.”
Ermolt turned to her, one eyebrow arched. “Would this version then be closer to a funeral?”
“The point is that there would be a party for the new Conscript. After their acceptance of Isadon’s teachings brought them into the fold.” She grimaced, remembering back to her own celebration. “I almost envy them. Conscripts of Ydia entered their celebration soaking wet from the Ewer of Life. Standing around in wet white robes was not the most dignified.”
“At least you didn’t need to risk being dismembered,” Ermolt said with a chuckle as he patted her on the shoulder. His hand was heavier without her tunic to provide some barrier. “And wouldn’t everyone be soaking wet if they had to enter through the same door?”
Elise shook her head. “They didn’t have to.” She pointed across the room, behind the table, where there was another archway, blocked by stone. “There was always another entrance. That door should lead through to the passage upstairs. Maybe not directly, but there has to be a back way.”
She didn’t add the words “I hope,” although they still rung unspoken, causing a bit of discomfort. If all clergy—from Conscript to High Priest—had to walk under that statue every time they wanted to come to a celebration or leave the Temple… Elise smirked to herself. Perhaps it was why Isadon’s Temple fell. Eventually there were no more people to worship him.
Ermolt started across the room to the other archway, and Elise followed. A deep frown creased her brow when she got close enough to see the damage. The archway wasn’t blocked by another stone slab, but instead a pile of rubble. They got in close and Elise stepped forward and shoved at the rubble with her foot.
It was solid.
This wasn’t the remains of a door. The ceiling must have collapsed in the next room, filling this doorway with stone.
She kicked at the rock, and tried to pretend that the unyielding stone didn’t hurt her foot.
“Should we go back?” Ermolt asked, looking back over his shoulder. “I’m a bit hesitant to go back past the axe, but if we must…”
“No,” Elise said, shaking her head, “this is the right way.” She unstrapped her shield from her arm and set it against the wall. “We just need to dig through.”
With both hands, she dug into the pile of rubble and yanked out a few stones, sending a clattering of smaller rocks down the side of the pile to her feet.
She immediately thought of the door under Khule, and the dark-skinned wizard who had found the door.
Before the memory could grab hold and cause her pain, Ermolt put a hand to her shoulder. “Hold a moment. I was prepared for this.”
Elise stepped back from the door as Ermolt rested his hammer against the wall. He produced the mattock he had acquired in Lublis, and Elise smiled approvingly. With a heavy overhand swing, the sharpened steel adze blade chunked into the rock near the top of the rubble and Ermolt grunted as he yanked on the handle.
An avalanche of rock tumbled free from the pile, rolling across the floor and burying his feet nearly to the ankles. The tool swept around again in a smooth circular motion, bringing the head of the weapon in close to his body before it came up again to land in more stone. Another yank dug another chunk of rock free. As the smaller fragments that comprised of the upper layer of the rubble cleared away, Elise could see beneath it to the larger rocks that would be the true barrier.
After two or three more strikes, the smaller bits of rubble had been cleared and dozens of rocks the size of Elise’s head had been scattered across the room, surrounded by smaller stones and bits of gravel. The doorway was still filled with stone, but it was larger pieces that could be easily moved.
Ermolt flipped the mattock around, putting the pick head forward, but Elise raised a hand to stop him. “We can clear this without that. Enough noise has been made already—and there’s a difference between the sound of rubble settling and a pick breaking apart stone.”
The barbarian paused for a moment, hand to chin. When he had sufficiently thought through her words, he nodded and put the tool through his belt to let it hang back on his hip. “You’re right. We don’t know what’s in here. Anything that would hear us and come to investigate is going to be a bigger threat than simple undead.”
They stepped up to the doorway, kicking away the rocks that had scattered from the pile. Ermolt started by grabbing a hold of the stone on top. It was large enough that Elise wouldn’t have been able to wrap her arms around it, but Ermolt reached around one side of it, wiggled it free, and pulled it down from the pile. Dirt and debris fell down around it, but the ceiling above the archway held together. The barbarian grunted with effort as he lowered the heavy stone, setting it aside and out of the way of the door.
While he was away, Elise tried to see through the hole the missing rock made. She lifted herself on her toes, but nothing could be seen by her eyes. “Can you see into the room yet?”
“More rock,” Ermolt grunted as he swung back and grabbed another torso-sized stone. “And darkness beyond.” He hefted the near boulder and put it next to its brethren. “There’s likely another curtain of smaller rocks on the other side.”
“Right,” Elise said with a sigh. She reached up and grabbed a chunk of rock—smaller than Ermolt’s massive boulders, but still sizeable enough—and rolled it out of place and into her arms. “Nothing for it but to keep digging.” She grunted, lowering the rock to the floor.
“I just hope the whole next room isn’t filled.” Ermolt struggled with the next rock, moving another large stone and lowering it quickly to the ground with a grunt. “If we have to push through twenty fen of this, I’ll be looking more favorably at facing that axe again.”
Elise grunted in acknowledgement, moving quickly to clear away the smaller rocks as Ermolt moved the larger stone to the side of the door. But where one was removed, another waited, each too large for Elise to handle.
“I can’t help but to think there’s a better way to do this,” Ermolt said after a moment, as he closed his hands around the next stone and dragged it out of place. “But nothing comes to mind.”
“Same here,” Elise said, quickly, before she hefted another heavy stone. She wanted to remark that Athala would have been able to come up with something, but she kept her mouth shut. The longer they went without talking about her absence, the better. “But anything that makes it faster makes it louder.”
Ermolt laughed at that as he grabbed another stone and pulled it away. The laugh sounded forced, but Elise appreciated the effort.
She had worried that he had something in mind, something he’d hoped she’d suggest, or that he was mulling over some unpleasant prospect that she would have to oppose. Like making a racket and drawing all potential threats from around the Temple to them at once.
He didn’t want to start an argument any more than she did, though. And she appreciated that. She needed him, if she wanted to get a chance to get through this and get Athala back.
Though part of her feared that Ermolt might realize that he didn’t need her. Especially now, with him moving stones that likely weighed as much as she did.
She was near useless to him, and she just prayed to the Nether that he either knew it and didn’t care, or was unaware.
As they dug, the low light from the white globes failed to reach into the dark entry they were clearing. Ermolt and Elise pulled blocks of stone from near darkness. There was no place to put a torch, and Elise was afraid that her uselessness would be even more highlighted if she volunteered to be a human sconce.
“Hold a moment,” Ermolt said eventually, straightening up and wiping his brow. All the motion did was smear dirt across his face, but the pause let Elise realize how much progress they’d made. The collapsed hallway was nearly cleared.
“What is it?”
“I think I heard something.” Before Elise could ask, Ermolt held up a hand, quieting her. He stepped up to the rubble and leaned into t
he hole they had created. The barbarian held deathly still for a moment. Elise tried to stand still herself, holding her breath so that her armor wouldn’t rattle too much.
Ermolt finally leaned away from the hole, and there was a look of concern across his face. “What is it? What did you hear?”
“Movement. Very light.” Ermolt slung his pack off his shoulder and began digging through it. “I think there’s an opening into the next room, but there’s no light to see by.” He drew out a torch and set about lighting it.
“If there’s an opening, it’s likely too small for you to fit.” Elise held out a hand. “Let me take a look.”
Without question, Ermolt passed her the torch, and Elise turned to the gap in the rubble. There was indeed a section of rock that didn’t have more rubble behind it. She might have been able to squeeze through with a little effort, but Ermolt wouldn’t have been able to follow. They’d need to clear more space.
Elise crept closer, towards the hole, leading with the torch to light the space beyond so she could peer in and see what was there.
The room yonder looked like a kitchen, though there were stone countertops and a large space beyond. Was it a dining hall? Elise couldn’t tell from here. But the immediate area had many stone surfaces, and what looked like a few ancient wood-fired stoves. Against the exterior wall was a crumbling lump that looked like it could have been a clay oven, likely used for baking.
There were a number of crates, casks, and boxes settled against the wall. And also, movement. At first it was just black shapes moving over the wooden containers, but as her eyes adjusted, the shapes came into focus.
Red dots of torchlight were thrown back at her from tiny eyes.
Rats.
There was a skittering noise as they rushed down off the containers and across the floor, charging right at her.
Elise managed not to yelp as she let go of the torch and scrambled away from the hole. She had barely gotten back to Ermolt’s side when they swarmed out of the darkness after her.
“Rats!” Elise cried out in warning.
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