Big Trouble

by Andrew Seiple

  And also, I don’t want to walk through that blood, Chase thought. Because I’m pretty sure my nerve’s going to break if I try and I need all the moxie I can get for this next part.

  One clean and press later, Renny was back in her pack, and Chase raced through the halls. Time was the issue now, no place for caution anymore. Looking at the maps, if Speranza’s foes had pressed this far into the guards’ chambers, then they didn’t have too much farther to go. If they reached Speranza’s cell, they could drop the rock, and then this would be over. And not in a way that left Renny’s friends alive.

  Most of his friends, anyway. Chase couldn’t imagine what Renny had felt, holding Porkew’s body in his arms.

  Her mind flashed to Greta then, and she almost stumbled. Greta’s bloody form appeared in her mind’s eye, sinking into a puddle of blood. The image, the vision was so vivid that Chase could almost hear her sister’s voice, echoing through the halls. Chase… Chase!

  Wait.

  She COULD hear her sister’s voice!

  “Chase!” Greta shouted, and Chase skidded to a halt, whipping her head around, to see a small figure backlit against an open doorway.

  “Greta?” Chase said and took a few hesitant steps forward, staring down the side-passageway.

  “Chase! Come on, quickly!” Greta beckoned, then looked back. “It’s all right! She’s my sister!”

  “Foresight,” Chase whispered, checking the approach, and almost crying with relief when it ended in a hug from Greta, and a happy thumbs up from a shaking ghost version of herself.

  Your Foresight skill is now level 16!

  With relief she followed the vision, and Greta bawled in her ear as she rocked her sister back and forth. “I was so scared! I was worried you’d be… you’d be…”

  “Shh, shh. I know. I know,” Chase said, patting her sister’s back and finally managing to wiggle free from Greta’s strong arms. “It’s been scary. But I think we’re okay.”

  “You’re the one who stayed behind, then?” A familiar voice interrupted. Chase knew it, remembered it well from the conversation she’d overheard.

  Zenobia!

  She lifted her eyes past the small knot of armored men, to the tall figure beyond… and only now did she remember where she’d heard that voice before.

  The Camerlengo stood there, her regal face gaunt, lined with stress and worry. Her hair was brown, streaked with white, and tied back into a stern bun, and tiny spectacles perched on her nose. The woman’s eyes glittered as she studied the two halvens below her. She bore a slim sword in one hand and a book in the other, and what Chase had taken for a glittery dress was a suit of thin chain mail over black cloth, the metal links so thin that they looked like they’d have trouble stopping a determined chipmunk.

  “Scouter,” breathed Camerlengo Zenobia and studied Chase with those cold eyes.

  “Um,” Chase said. “Hello?”

  There were five guards around her, all outfitted with breastplates and chain mail, bearing a variety of weapons. All looked wounded, bearing cuts and bruises. But the amount of gore on their armor was far out of proportion to their injuries, and Chase had a sick feeling, as she realized that she was looking at the ones who had turned the mess hall into an abattoir.

  It might be a good idea to show goodwill. “Your men are hurt,” she said. “I can help with that.”

  “It’s all right, the Camerlengo can heal them,” Greta said. “She’s a cleric.”

  “Oracles have some slight healing ability. Do your best. I shall preserve my sanity for the trials ahead,” Zenobia ordered.

  “All right...” Chase said, walking over to study the guards. A prickling sensation on the back of her spine said that the Camerlengo was still staring at her. How did she know I’m an Oracle? Did Greta tell her? Did I tell Greta? I did, didn’t I?

  “Lesser Healing,” Chase commanded, over and over again until her sanity was almost gone, and her lesser healing skill had risen five times.

  And along with that, came the words she’d been waiting for.

  You are now a level 5 Oracle!

  CHA+3

  LUCK+3

  WIS+3

  You have learned the Afflict Self skill!

  Your Afflict Self skill is now level 1!

  You have learned the Omens and Portents skill!

  You have learned the Transfer Condition skill!

  Your Transfer Condition skill is now level 1!

  “Status,” Chase said, as the last of Zenobia’s entourage stepped back, fully healed. “Oh, my goodness...” Forgetting everyone else there, Chase examined her new skills one by one. Finding them... odd. Oracle was a very strange job, and she wasn’t sure how these would be helpful.

  Afflict Self

  Cost: 5 ForDuration: 10 seconds per skill level

  Afflicts you with a random minor condition. The condition fades when it is cured, or when the afflict self duration expires, whichever comes first. This skill is a spell.

  Omens and Portents

  Cost: N/ADuration: Passive Constant

  The gods send you signs, sometimes subtle, sometimes blatant. Your dreams are occasionally filled with visions, or sometimes sticks will fall in mystical patterns around you. But it’s up to you to decipher them! This skill has no levels.

  Transfer Condition

  Cost: 10 SanDuration: 1 Turn

  This skill lets you put a condition or debuff that’s affecting you on another target. After casting this spell, you have a short amount of time to touch them, boosted by your transfer condition skill. If you succeed, then they gain a condition or debuff of your choice from those currently afflicting you. Note that the duration of the condition or debuff is unchanged. This skill is a spell.

  “Child,” Zenobia said, as Chase finished up reading, and the silence stretched into the darkness. “Who is your god?”

  “Hoon,” Chase said, glancing back at her.

  To her surprise, the Camerlengo flinched, as if she’d been struck. Her eyes went wide, then narrowed until they were glittering slits.

  “Um. Does it matter?” Chase said, stepping backwards... and felt hands on her shoulders, as the guards nearest her took hold. They weren’t rough but firm enough that she realized escape was not going to happen.

  “By itself, no.” Zenobia massaged her eyes with one gloved hand. No blood on her, Chase noted, in that weird moment of heightened perception she got when she had a feeling danger was on the horizon. “But you’re three times over a lawbreaker. And a Grifter, to boot. A Grifter! I can’t trust a word you’ll say, and I won’t have you at my back.”

  “Hold on!” Greta shrieked. “She’s my sister!”

  “I know. Fear not. I am not without mercy,” the Camerlengo said, looking to her with glittering eyes.

  Pretty sure that’s a lie, Chase thought to herself.

  “Bind her,” Zenobia commanded. “We’ll leave her here and proceed on with the plan. We shall sort her out later.”

  Chase glared at her but didn’t resist as the guards pulled out ropes and sat her in a chair, tying her arms and legs to it.

  “Wait,” the Camerlengo said, pacing to Chase’s side, and glancing down at her. “Search her pack.”

  Chase inhaled, worried. But her worry eased as the Camerlengo moved toward one of the doors, peering into the darkness.

  They untied her enough to remove her pack, then tied her back, as she watched one of the guards rummage through it. “Papers, mostly,” he said to Zenobia.

  “Let me see.”

  Chase held her breath again... but let it out as the guard handed her the scrolls.

  “Maps. And blueprints...” Zenobia studied Chase. “Where did you get these? Did you—” she shut her lips so abruptly that they made a little snapping noise.

  “I tricked Speranza into thinking I wanted to help her. She gave me those thinking I could try to figure out a way to get her free.”

  Chase watched as the guards tossed her pack aside. It bulged a bit m
ore than it should, with the scrolls out of it. Renny was still in there. She was willing to bet that he’d gained a few levels in the dodge skill, evading the guard’s hands.

  This is temporary. This is nothing. Once they’re gone, Renny can come out and set me free. It’s just rope.

  This comforting feeling lasted up until the moment Greta picked up her pack. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it safe for you until we get back,” Greta said, looking down.

  The Camerlengo looked up but didn’t say a word, and under those eyes Chase didn’t dare speak. She looked away instead, until she felt the almost-physical pressure of Zenobia’s gaze move away from her.

  The rasp of paper on paper, and Zenobia grunted in satisfaction. Chase risked a look and caught her studying the blueprints. “Yes... the pump room is where I remembered it. Good. Easier to drown a rat than to crush it. Come then. We’ve wasted enough time.”

  Then she looked sideways at Chase, with a small smile on her lips. The first the halven girl had seen from her. It was not a nice smile, and it was gone in a heartbeat, but Chase didn’t like it at all.

  Without another word the group left. Greta was last of all, hesitating in the doorway, looking from her sister back into the figures shuffling into the darkness. Her eyes were wide, and her lip quivered, holding back unspoken words.

  “Go,” Chase said. “It’ll be okay,” she lied.

  Greta took a step backward, another, then turned and fled.

  Chase shut her eyes then and gave in to despair. She cried then, cried for the second time that day. So many had died, so much had happened, and her dreams of adventure had been twisted into... well, this. This wasn’t fun. This was a dark, bloody hole in the ground that threatened to eat her father and now her sister as well. These were strange, dangerous humans who saw her as a tool or an obstacle and deadly opponents who could kill her in seconds if she slipped. Where was the magic? Where were the fabulous creatures, and the lands out of storybooks, and the gold and jewels and magnificent treasures?

  Chase bowed her head and sobbed without shame; nobody there to see her crumble.

  And bit by bit, she felt better.

  Broken, she drew herself together. If this wasn’t the adventure she wanted, then she’d get through it and on to better things!

  If she wasn’t strong enough to fight the evildoers face to face, that was fine! She’d find ways to shift things into a situation that wasn’t a fight!

  She was a halven, damn it all, and halvens don’t sit in the darkness and angst about things they can’t control! They just fix what they could fix, and trust the big things to sort themselves out.

  And what’s more, she was an Oracle! Would Hoon have chosen her if she was going to be stuck here alone in the darkness, moping until everyone was dead? Heck no!

  WILL+1

  Feeling better about the whole thing, Chase opened her eyes again. What should she do here? How should she fix matters?

  The first trick was to get free. The second thing... she gnawed her lip, in thought. There was one group that she needed to speak to. The group that had built this prison in the first place.

  Getting free took precious minutes of twisting and writhing and, in some cases, torn skin as the rope chafed and ripped at her. But the blood slicked up her limbs, made the work easier, and her dexterity did the rest. Some healing was necessary afterward, but by now she had the skill down and the numbers she got from it were respectable.

  After Chase left the room it took her a while to get her bearings and remember the map. It took longer still, precious minutes sliding by, and a near encounter with Speranza’s guards before they recognized her and gave her directions to the place she was looking for.

  But at last Chase stood in a hallway lined with bars, separated into cells. From one of the nearer cells, humans in prison uniforms called out for help, stretching their hands past the metal grilles to try and clutch at her. She evaded them, nodding to one of Speranza’s twisted minions at the corner as she approached.

  “Where are the halvens?” she asked him.

  He pointed, and she followed his finger, ending her search in front of a smaller cell. Inside, a dozen halvens sat against the back wall, staring at her with varying degrees of shock.

  “Chase!” One of the least shocked among them rose. Her father rushed to the bars and pushed his arms through. Chase leaned into the hug, rubbing his shoulder, doing her best to ignore the cold steel of the bars pushing into her face.

  “Hello Dad.”

  “How did you get here? How did you get past the guards?”

  “They think I’m on their side. They think I can talk you into helping to release one of the prisoners,” Chase whispered into his ear. She felt his arms stiffen. Then he chuckled, before letting her go.

  “I’ll go let the others know. Keep your voice down, I don’t think the guards are too far off,” Stem Berrymore muttered.

  Chase nodded and waited patiently as the captive halvens huddled together and muttered. Finally, the group moved up to the bars, and Susan Crabapple squinted at her, brushing back a lock of grimy red hair as she addressed the younger woman. “We’re supposed to release a prisoner? From what?”

  “Remember a room called the ‘dead drop?’ A room that was designed to be capped by a very big chunk of stone?”

  Benjy Lapin sucked air through his buckteeth. “Ouch. They actually done stuck someone in there? Well. That’s it for them. Place is built to collapse if anything happens to that there stone.”

  “Actually, there may be a way around it. Is one of you a Merchant? Or an Explorer?”

  “I’m a Merchant,” said Grummer Gar. “I was running the general store for years before I handed it off to Jooli.” He tugged his whiskers and squinted at her through broken spectacles. “Why?”

  “Before I answer that question, we need to figure out if letting her out is a good idea. See, she’s got a trick where she can charm people...” Chase launched into an explanation. The older halven’s eyes got bigger and bigger as she told of what Speranza could accomplish merely by singing.

  “That’s terrifying,” Stem said. “I see why they locked her away.”

  Ruggle Casker spoke up in his creaky old voice. “Come to think of it, I heard tell of a guildmaster who had that ability, back during the wars.”

  Chase blinked. “She was a guildmaster, too? Like Dijornos was?”

  The second she said the prisoner’s name, every head whipped around to look at her. Chase noticed that her father’s face had gone absolutely pale. “Sweetpea? Where did you hear that name?” He said, in a hoarse voice.

  “He’s upstairs,” Chase said. “They gave him a fear of water and surrounded him with a lake. He’s not going... wait.” She furrowed her brow, remembering. “The Camerlengo is here. She’s trying to kill her way to Speranza. But when she found the blueprints of the prison, she said something about going to the pump room instead, and drowning a rat...”

  Benjy rubbed his chin. “I’m the one that put in the plumbing, here. If Speranza’s in the dead drop, then that’s at the very bottom of the prison. Rerouting the pumps will flood D level and C level too, but she’ll be dead first. It’ll drain the lake up top, though.”

  “Wait. C level?” Chase said, eyes wide. She’d studied the maps to get here, multiple times, and certain details stuck in her mind. “These cells are on C level!”

  More than that, she realized. I haven’t gone up or down any stairs since I ran into her. She LEFT me on C level. She left me to drown. Or maybe it was an oversight?

  Chase remembered that small smile the Camerlengo had shown her. That cruel little grin... No. No, it hadn’t been an oversight. That had been malice, pure and simple.

  “I don’t think the Camerlengo cares if we drown,” Chase said, slowly. “We’re going to have to—”

  The room shook, and a great roar came from above, as something blew up deep inside the mountain.

  CHAPTER 15: DARK ALLIANCES

  The prison did
not collapse.

  The waters above did not break and flow below, drowning Chase and her people.

  Nothing fell down.

  But it was a very solid and loud reminder that time was short and growing shorter. The Camerlengo and her crew were blasting their way through all obstacles, and Chase was increasingly sure that she and her people were one of them.

  It went back to what Dijornos said earlier. That the people who had captured them had gone to great lengths to keep things secret and quiet. That was the only reason Chase could think of that the Camerlengo might want her dead, had left her behind to drown.

  But that smile... that smile had been pure malice. That was joy at Chase’s grief.

  “She’s my enemy,” Chase realized, as the cards that Hoon had flipped for her came back to her memory. “The Camerlengo is not helping the situation. And there are two guildmasters, here. But one’s the elemental. One is the problem... And the big problem that’s drawing the Camerlengo in is Speranza. Which means Dijornos is—”

  “Dijornos is the butcher of Barvigga,” Stem said, clutching the bars. “Let me tell you why we fear that name.”

  He did. It took precious minutes, but Chase listened, eyes wide at a history that had been wiped from the books.

  And at the end of it, by the end of it all, she had a plan. A full plan, not just eighty percent of one. She told Dad and the others what she needed from them, and they didn’t like it. But they agreed. What choice did they have, really?

  There was something to be said for halven pragmatism after all, Chase reflected as she hugged her father one last time. They’re finally taking me seriously. Which was good. She didn’t know how she could go back to her old life after this. Not after this.

  She ran through the halls, finding her way back to the cathedral-like room, and berated the guards until they let her in once more.

  The Warden was nowhere to be seen, and only a single guard waited inside. He watched with wide eyes as she uncapped the tube. “Speranza? Speranza! We need to talk! I can save you!”