by Logan Jacobs
“Excellent!” Yvaine smiled. “I would love the fresh air. Shall we take the horses, then?”
The horses were Yvaine’s, but now that she was part of the guild, we all rode them often.
“I was hoping we could,” I told her. “We’re all going to meet downstairs and leave as soon as everyone is ready.”
“We’ll be right along, then,” Yvaine promised, and I left the two behind to pack up my own things.
It only took a few minutes for me to pack up my invisibility cloak, an extra pair of clothes, and a bit of money and food for the road. I expected we’d be back before too late in the evening, if all went well, but I’d been doing this long enough to know to plan ahead for unforeseen delays and obstacles. By the time I got downstairs, everyone else was ready, too, and after we reviewed the map and the rundown from the Academy about the cultists, we set out.
Chapter 2
We followed the Mage Academy maps to a remote area along the western coast. The sky was overcast and foreboding, and a salty wind whipped my hair into my face as I peered out at the western horizon where the slate-gray sea stretched like a strip of iron beneath the heavy blanket of clouds. Far in the distance, I could see the darker streaks of gray where sheets of rain poured down over the water, and though the storm hadn’t reached us yet, the air was thick and unseasonably warm. The tall pines around us shivered and shed their needles whenever a gust of wind blew through them, and I couldn’t help but shiver myself in anticipation of the storm and the fight to come.
I was in the lead, and I gently tugged the reins to draw my horse to a stop as we reached a fork in the trail. Gulls screeched to one another as they soared overhead, and Merlin poked his head up and chattered at them in annoyance.
“Don’t you get any ideas,” Aerin scolded the puca who had been riding along with her in her lap. She scooped him up just as he wiggled his haunches in preparation to spring into the air, no doubt intending to shift into a hawk or an eagle to chase down the gulls.
“The cultists’ base is supposed to be in a fortress on a cliff,” Emeline said as she fought to keep her map from being blown away. “There’s one a little north of here, so we need to go right.”
“Did that intel from the mages say why no one’s dealt with these guys before?” Lavinia asked as we guided our horses up the right-hand trail. “A temple full of evil cultists guarding a bunch of illegal texts sounds like a pretty popular bounty to me, and they’re not even trying to hide. The mages could have just made it public.”
“What are you complaining about?” Aerin said. “I would have expected you of all people to be honored that the Mage Academy chose us specifically to get those books for them.”
“It just seems sort of off,” the ladona ranger replied with a one-sided shrug. “We used to do jobs like this all the time, it’s not like it’s anything special. There’s got to be some kind of catch.”
“The notes just say that the Academy suspects there are a lot of rogue mages among them,” I answered, “and the texts we’re supposed to collect mostly have to do with life and death magic. I’d bet that a lot of them are necromancers and blood mages. It says they call themselves the Servants of Eutrem.” I turned to Aerin. “Which god is that?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never heard of that one,” the healer responded with an uneasy frown.
“I have,” Lena spoke up. The alchemist’s usually cheerful tone was grave, and when I turned to her, her face was pale. “Eutrem is one of the old goddesses of Morelia. She was the Goddess of Death and Curses. Her worship was banned hundreds of years ago, but she still has some followers who revere her in secret.”
“They’re not being very secretive right now,” Lavinia remarked with a nod ahead. I looked to where she gestured.
A few miles away, just visible between the trees, a wide fortress of dark stone was perched on the edge of a cliff. It looked ancient and weather-worn, but not as dilapidated as I might have expected. Up on that cliff, with the sea crashing beneath it, the clouds rolling above it, and the pines flailing in the gale around it, it seemed like the only solid thing in the world. It had been made for a place like this, designed to hold up for centuries against the constant assault of the elements. There were no banners or markers of any kind that I could see, but just looking at it, I felt in my bones that this had to be the right place. It inspired in me a stronger sense of foreboding than even the storm on the horizon and the clingy, humid air.
“Well, that certainly looks like the lair of a death goddess’ cult,” Maruk said with false cheer. “About how many of them are up there, do we know?”
“The notes from the Mage Academy say there could be anywhere from ten to, uh, fifty cultists,” I read.
“So, no,” Lavinia translated bluntly. “How do they know which books these guys stole but not know how many of them are there in the first place?”
“Well, they’ve probably been recruiting, haven’t they?” Emeline suggested. “And it’s probably hard to keep track when they kidnap or kill anyone who approaches.”
“Indeed,” Yvaine agreed. “I doubt they’re responding to the census. We’ll just have to be prepared for the worst possible scenario.”
“And if they are practicing necromancy, we’ll have more enemies to worry about than just the cultists,” Aerin pointed out.
“Hmmph,” Dehn snorted. “I’m not afraid of some moldy shamblers. Bring ‘em on!” The warlike halfling’s squat little pony looked like it strongly disagreed with that statement.
I clicked my tongue and urged my horse forward again, and the others followed up the slope toward the cliffside fortress. It looked no more inviting the closer we got. The dark gray stone dripped in the dense humidity, though the storm over the sea still hadn’t blown our way, and there was a statue on either side of the road of a woman covered in bandages. The pair looked almost like mummies, and it was hard to tell whether they had been carved with chunks out of their faces and bodies or if the stone had just begun to succumb to the elements. Most disturbing, though, was the water that ran down the statues’ cheeks from eyes covered over in carved bandages, like they were crying. I felt a chill run down my spine as we passed between them, and when I caught sight of Lena, I saw that the elven alchemist was chewing nervously on her bottom lip and watching the statues like she expected them to move.
There was less than half a mile to the fortress gate from where the statues stood, so we all dismounted and guided our horses to the shelter of the trees where we tied them up to await our return. We would be stealthier on foot, and this way we could be sure none of the animals would be injured in the fight to come.
The cliff didn’t actually narrow out much until the place where the fortress sat, so we were able to stick to the cover of the forest as we approached. The undergrowth brushed against our calves, or in Dehn’s case, his thighs, as we picked our way closer to the looming structure. There was a single watchman on the walls, who, thanks to the angle of the cliff and the cover of the forest, hadn’t been able to see us when we were further down the path with our horses. However, about fifty yards of open grass surrounded the fort, and he was sure to notice us when we tried to cross it. We would need to take him out first, from here, so that we could retain the element of surprise a little longer.
I turned to Lavinia and grinned when I realized the ranger didn’t need me to tell her what to do. She already had her bow loaded, and I nodded to her as I stepped aside so that she could get a clear shot.
Lavinia aimed and drew her bowstring back confidently, and we all looked on in awed silence as she slid her fingers from the string, and the arrow arched out into the cloudy sky like a bolt of black lightning. A second later, the watchman fell and disappeared behind the wall.
“Let’s go,” I urged as I darted from the shelter of the pines and across the slick grass to the walls. The bricks were cold and damp against my shoulder as I pressed myself against the wall and pitted from the salty air. Yellowish moss clung in the seams
between them that had a sharp sort of odor.
The rest of my guild was right behind me, with Dehn coming in last, though he was running as quickly as his short legs could carry him. The halfling muttered a stream of curses and said something about the rest of us running like deer and didn’t we understand that he was a warrior and not a sprinter? But he quieted down when Aerin gave him a stern look.
I had stopped to listen if there was anyone who had noticed the lookout Lavinia had shot and sounded the alarm, but the courtyard on the other side of the wall was as silent as death. Still, with the magical proclivities of this group in mind, I found myself holding my breath as I edged around the side of the wall toward the sturdy iron gate. I decided this must have been some sort of military stronghold or something before the cultists took it over because the bars on the gate were nearly thicker around than my arm and topped with wicked spikes. The iron was a little rusted, but not as much as it would have been without proper care, and I noticed the slight shimmer of an enchantment over the metal. That was easy enough to dispel with just a touch of my finger, but unfortunately, there was still the lock itself to contend with.
“Anyone know how to pick locks?” I asked with a glance back to the others. “Aerin?”
“Why do you assume I know how to pick locks?” the redheaded elf asked with a frown.
“I don’t know, you’re usually pretty knowledgeable,” I replied, “and you do spend a lot of time in the black market.”
“That’s because the merchants there have better prices than in the city market,” she insisted. “I barter, I don’t steal.”
“Pretty sure that guy you cheated out of those five silvers last week would beg to differ,” Lavinia cut in, her brow arched.
“That is not the same thing!” Aerin huffed. “I won that money fair and square.”
“I’ve lost enough money to you to know you’re not that bad at hazard, Aerin. You hustled him.”
“Guys, the lock?” I prompted.
“Well, I can’t pick it, but why don’t we just break down the gate?” Dehn asked impatiently.
We all turned to look at the halfling.
“And how do you propose we accomplish that?” Yvaine asked as diplomatically as she could.
“What in the hells is this wall of muscle doing here if not to break shit that needs breaking?” Dehn demanded with a jab of his thumb at Maruk.
“Excuse me?” Maruk scoffed. “I’m an esteemed shield-warrior, not a barbarian, and I do not break down gates.”
“You broke down the door once,” Lavinia pointed out. “Remember, at the Magpie, that time Nesta made those crab puffs?”
“Oh!” Aerin clapped her hands. “You did! You tore it right off the hinges. I’d forgotten about that.”
“I wish you had,” Maruk muttered with a scowl. “Regardless of past... incidents... I assure you, I cannot break through that.” He nodded to the gate.
“Let me try,” Emeline said suddenly.
“You’re going to break down the gate?” Lavinia asked incredulously.
“No, I mean, I want to try to pick the lock,” Emeline answered.
“Do you know how?” I asked.
“Well, theoretically. That is, I’ve read about it plenty of times.” Emeline’s catlike ears angled back in the same sheepish expression Merlin often had.
“Do you have lockpicks?” Aerin asked, and Emeline’s ears drooped further.
“No, but I read about another way, if I could just use one of your arrows, La--”
The ladona archer didn’t even let her finish.
“Uh-uh, no way. I’m not letting you break all of my arrows trying to shove them through a keyhole because you read about it in some book.”
“It wasn’t just some book,” Emeline argued. “It was Terragar’s Complete Lockpicking Manual.”
“Guys--” I started, but then Lena stepped past us all silently and drew a small vial of violently bright green liquid from her pack, pulled out the stopper, and poured the contents over the lock on the gate. Immediately, the metal began to bubble and fizz, and the smell that wafted from it was like chlorine and sweat, so strong it made my head spin. But as the smoke cleared, I saw that whatever the alchemist had poured onto the lock had eaten right through the metal, and when Lena gave the gate a push, it swung forward with a creak.
“You had an acid that could eat through metal?” I asked as Lena stepped back with a smile and replaced the empty vial in her pack. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“I didn’t know it would work,” she answered. “I didn’t make it to eat through metal. It was supposed to be a beard-detangling conditioner for mountain trolls.”
“Trolls don’t use conditioner,” Maruk said.
“Or money,” Aerin added.
“Mostly they just eat people,” Lavinia finished.
Lena shrugged. “Well, I guess we can use it for corroding metal, then. Are we going inside?”
There was no one else in the courtyard beyond the gate, just the man Lavinia had shot. He had on simple leather armor, stained such a dark shade of purple that it was nearly black, and wore a black kerchief around his neck, but otherwise, there was nothing particularly remarkable about him. He didn’t look like a crazed cultist. Really, he could have been anyone off the street in Ovrista. Lavinia pulled her arrow out of his skull with a squelch and a spray of crimson blood as we passed him and refitted the arrow to her bowstring.
The courtyard was orderly, the grass neatly trimmed and the bricks scrubbed clean, but that was where its charm ended. Carved into the walls were more images of bandaged women like the statues we’d passed on the road up. These women, though, had their arms outstretched and were surrounded by skeletons and decaying corpses. The women were all identical, and I guessed that they must have been representations of the death goddess, Eutrem, but I wasn’t sure if the people below her were meant to be victims or worshippers. Maybe there wasn’t a difference.
There was only one door into the fortress from the courtyard, two heavy slabs of dark oak with iron hinges and ring handles that were so big I could have stuck my head through them without a problem. They were every bit as heavy as they looked, but when I lifted one of them and put my weight to the door, it gave and creaked slowly, reluctantly open.
“Not so enthusiastic about security around here, are they?” Lavinia remarked under her breath.
“I imagine that the threat of being captured, sacrificed to a death goddess, and resurrected as a puppet is enough to deter most potential intruders,” Yvaine replied.
I threw them a look before I crept into the dim foyer with my hand on the hilt of my dagger, but it seemed that Lavinia’s insight was as accurate as her archery, because there were no guards in the room as we entered. There were two doorways leading off from where we stood, one left, one right, and another creepy statue of Eutrem with dark purple-red ribbons wrapped around her body like bandages soaked in blood. I felt like she was watching me and shivered.
“We should split up,” I suggested as I tore my gaze from the statue and glanced down the two halls. “We’ll cover more ground, and if one group is captured, the other can help out.”
“I don’t need any help!” Dehn said loudly, and Lavinia smacked him on the back of the head.
“Keep it down, will you?” she growled.
I ignored Dehn’s boasting and continued. “Maruk, Emeline, Lena, and Dehn, you take the right hall. Aerin, Lavinia, Yvaine, and I will take the left. Focus on getting the books, that’s what we’re getting paid for.” I gave the halfling a stern look. “Don’t start a fight if you don’t have to.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dehn muttered. “You’re the boss.”
“It’s too bad Lena doesn’t have a potion to make him shut up,” Lavinia said quietly as the other group turned off and started down the hall to the right.
“We don’t need a potion,” Aerin replied, “just a thick sock. Bet one of Maruk’s would work.”
Lavinia chuckled
.
“Come on,” I said as I led the other three women down the left hall. I drew my dagger and flexed my fingers around the hilt as we passed through the dimly lit stone corridor. The darkness was bad enough, but to make matters worse, it was just as sticky and warm in here as it was outside, and I almost felt like I was walking down the throat of some enormous creature. There were more carvings of Eutrem on the walls and as they became increasingly more detailed and gory, I stopped examining them.
The hallway was eerily silent, as still and foreboding as the humidity that preceded the storm, and I felt like every breath I drew or step I took was deafening. Where were the cultists? There had been that lookout on the wall, so obviously there were still some here. I figured it would have been much harder for fifty of them to stay so hidden, anyway, so maybe we could count on the Mage Academy’s lower estimate after all.
I imagined them all locked away in some inner sanctum, their faces obscured by hoods as they chanted and performed blood magic rituals or other dark spells, and that was when the first of the cultists appeared from around the corner about twenty feet away.
His eyes widened in surprise, but no sooner had he opened his mouth than one of Lavinia’s dark arrows pierced his throat, and he fell to his knees with a wet gurgle and scrabbled at the shaft of the arrow in shock.
I lunged forward and pulled the arrow out, and the last of the man’s lifeblood flowed from the hole in his throat after it in a river of crimson across the stone floor. I glanced down the hall where the man had come from and confirmed that it was clear before I handed the arrow back to Lavinia and shifted the dying man’s body so that I could see what weapons he had or if he carried anything else that could be of use to us.
He managed to cough and blood speckled over his chin and bubbled on his lips, but then his head lolled back and his eyes became glassy.
He was unarmed except for a sharp little obsidian knife that I took, and unlike the watchman, he had no armor, just dusky robes that might have been dark purple or black, it was too dark in the hall to be able to tell.