The Adventurer's Guide to Treasure (and How to Steal It)

by Wade Albert White

  A stray bolt of lightning struck the side of the outhouse and blew the planks off. It became very clear very quickly that they were no longer safe in their present location.

  “Back to the inn!” yelled Anne.

  The group burst from the outhouse and sprinted for the cover of the larger building. They dodged and weaved as chickens continued to rain down. One hit the ground behind them with such velocity that it exploded in a burst of charred feathers. Just before they reached the inn’s doorway, a plummeting chicken struck Anne and knocked her over. She stumbled to her knees, but Penelope managed to yank her upright. Once safely inside, they fell panting to the floor.

  Anne stared through the open doorway, a look of incomprehension on her face. “Hiro, what spell did you cast?”

  “I thought it said Chain Lightning,” said Hiro.

  Penelope yanked the catalog out of his hand and examined it. “Two of the pages are taped together, you ninny. You read the first part of Chain Lightning and the second part of Summon Chicken Swarm.” She handed the catalog back to him. “Congratulations, O Master of Magick, you just invented chicken lightning.”

  Hiro looked horrified, and Anne wanted to comfort him, but she couldn’t contain herself. After everything they’d been through in the past day, this was simply too much. She burst into laughter. Chicken lightning. Of all the things to save them, Hiro had to come up with chicken lightning. The others soon joined in, even Hiro himself.

  Marri suddenly stopped laughing and pointed at Anne’s arm. “Anne, your gauntlet.”

  Anne held up her gauntlet-hand. Her arm was sore from where the chicken had hit her, but it hadn’t occurred to her to check the gauntlet. It sizzled with spurts of erratic energy. Several of the metal strips were bent, and one had even been torn loose and was dangling by a single rivet. The medallion slot was also askew.

  “Where are Jeffery and the Construct?” asked Hiro.

  Everyone glanced around, but neither Jeffery nor the Construct was anywhere to be seen.

  “Activate GPS,” said Anne, but Jeffery didn’t appear.

  “If your gauntlet is broken, will you be able to stop the barrier from coming down?” asked Marri.

  “It’s worse than that,” said Anne. “There were hundreds of identical tiers with castles on them, and they’re currently spreading themselves out all over the Hierarchy. Without Jeffery, we have no way to locate the right one and retrieve the gold medallion.”

  NEZ AND THE ART OF GAUNTLET MAINTENANCE OFFERS THREE PIECES OF SAGE ADVICE:

  1) Although gauntlets are designed to withstand considerable wear and tear, the owner of a gauntlet should be careful not to expose it to extreme temperatures for extended periods of time. (Granted, the extreme temperatures that would actually cause damage to a gauntlet would likely kill the wearer long beforehand.)

  2) When polishing your gauntlet, always apply the cleaner using your right hand moving in a clockwise direction (wax on), and remove the cleaner using your left hand moving in a counterclockwise direction (wax off).

  3) Don’t hit your gauntlet with an electric chicken.

  The Broken Gauntlet

  Everyone stood in silence. Anne cradled her damaged gauntlet in her other arm as blue bursts of energy snapped and crackled and popped. For all the trouble the gauntlet had brought her these past months, Anne couldn’t imagine life without it. Or without quests. Or without Jeffery.

  Her chest tightened in a rising panic. What would happen if they couldn’t get Jeffery or the Construct back? Or get the gold medallion from Octo-Horse Pirate? What would happen if they didn’t return to the castle in time to stop the barrier from coming down?

  “Could she have simply left?” asked Marri, her voice filled with worry. “The Construct, I mean. She’s not exactly thinking straight. Maybe she randomly transferred herself somewhere else.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Hiro. “In our experience with the Construct so far, she’s only been able to transfer her program when there’s a computer terminal nearby. And in any case, that wouldn’t explain why Jeffery is missing, too.” He turned to Anne. “I’m really, really sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” said Anne. “I know it was an accident.”

  “Why are you always sticking up for him?!” yelled Penelope. “He ruined your gauntlet! He ruined everything! You should be angry!”

  “Pen, I don’t think—”

  Penelope rounded on Hiro and jabbed a finger into his chest. “If we fail to stop the barrier, you and I are going to have serious words, mister, including what role, if any, your origins might have played in this.”

  Hiro stared at the ground and remained silent.

  Penelope started walking away, but Anne followed and grabbed her arm.

  “I’m not interested in talking about it, okay?” snapped Penelope, and she jerked her arm from Anne’s grasp.

  “That’s fine, you can just listen, then,” said Anne, not backing off. She had tried to be sympathetic, but enough was enough. She checked to make sure they were out of earshot of the others, and then she spoke again. “Look, I’m sorry you’ve had all this thrown at you, I really am. It’s a lot to deal with. But in case you haven’t noticed, you’re not the only one having a bad day. What happened to your parents was terrible, but it wasn’t Hiro’s fault. None of this is. And yes, like you, I’m disappointed he hid such an important part of himself from us. But think about what it cost him to share it. And then remember that he did it to save us. He risked everything for you and me. And from everything that’s come out today, he wasn’t the only one with a secret.”

  Penelope shifted uneasily. “Anne, I—”

  Anne held up her hand. “Now isn’t the time. And in any case, I’m not mad. We all have to live our own lives, and I would never think of standing in the way of your dreams. But right now the group needs you, Pen. And it needs Hiro, too.”

  Penelope looked stunned. Anne left her standing there and went outside.

  The chicken storm was finally abating, with only the occasional baby chick ricocheting off a nearby roof. People were starting to emerge from their homes to begin the day, no doubt curious about the recent storm. Many of them seemed startled to find the street filled with roaming chickens; they were even more shocked each time a chicken zapped them with a bolt of lightning.

  Several of the buildings had been badly damaged, and many of the shops had had their signs knocked off. One sign still intact, however, caught Anne’s eye. It had a white background with a hammer and anvil painted on it.

  Marri joined her in the street. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to get help,” Anne said firmly, and she set off down the street.

  At the building with the hammer and anvil, she knocked several times. When no one answered, she knocked again. And again. Finally, there was a click and the door swung open.

  A woman with curly brown hair and wearing a heavy wool tunic, looking a little bleary-eyed, stood in the doorway. “I’m afraid I’m not open yet,” she said with a yawn.

  Anne held up her gauntlet-hand. “My gauntlet is damaged, and I can’t access the GPS.”

  “Well, if you bring it back in a couple of hours, I’d be happy to take a look.”

  She started to close the door, but Anne jammed her foot in the way.

  “Please, it’s an emergency,” Anne pleaded. “The quest will be over by then, and if I don’t get the gauntlet repaired, terrible things will happen. And—and you’d be helping out a fellow blacksmith.” Anne dug her blacksmith token out of her pocket and held it up so the blacksmith could see.

  Hiro, Marri, and Pirate Fifty-Three came charging down the street. Penelope followed behind.

  The blacksmith raised an eyebrow. “An emergency, you say?”

  “Yes,” said Anne. “Very much so.”

  “End-of-the-world type stuff, I suppose?”

  Anne nodded her head vigorously. “And we have less than two hours.”

  “Very well. You’d bett
er come in.”

  The air inside was warm. A fire roared merrily inside a large stone fireplace on one side, and on the other were two long tables: one covered with tools, and one with two stools in front.

  The blacksmith pointed to the stools. “Have a seat over there. I’m afraid the rest of your group will have to stand.”

  Anne sat as instructed and rested the gauntlet on the table. At the other table, the blacksmith put on a leather apron and picked up a leather roll. She sat next to Anne and looked at the gauntlet.

  “Well, my first observation is that you’re on a quest without a quest medallion,” said the blacksmith.

  “A half-octopus, half-horse stole the medallion using the twin of this gauntlet,” Anne explained. “We need this one repaired so we can take it back.”

  The blacksmith shrugged. “Fair enough. What caused the damage? Did it happen when the medallion was removed?”

  “No, it was zapped by a chicken,” said Anne.

  The blacksmith stared at her as if to determine whether or not Anne was joking. When Anne didn’t add anything else, the blacksmith simply shook her head and opened the leather roll, which was packed with a variety of strange-looking implements. She selected a long probe and began examining the gauntlet, taking special care as she prodded the loose metal strips.

  “This gauntlet has been modified,” said the blacksmith.

  “It was done yesterday,” said Anne.

  “And before that, too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s been modified twice. Once recently and once a very long time ago. That’s part of the reason it’s so unstable.”

  After the blacksmith finished her examination, she put away the probe and leaned back on her stool. “Your gauntlet is in rough shape. It would take several days to do a proper repair job, but since you don’t have that kind of time, I’ll patch it up as best I can. No guarantees, though.”

  “Thank you,” said Anne.

  The blacksmith worked steadily for the next half hour, occasionally directing Anne to hold a certain piece or move the gauntlet a certain way. The blacksmith tightened the rivets and replaced the broken strip with a new one. She then worked on the medallion slot, tapping it gently with her tools to move it back into place. Finally, after a particularly sharp tap with the hammer, there was a distinct click and the slot settled into the cuff. If anything, though, the crackle of blue energy became even worse.

  The blacksmith scratched her head. “That should have done it. It might have sustained more damage than I thought.”

  “What do you mean, more damage than you thought?” asked Jeffery, appearing in a burst of light.

  “Jeffery!” exclaimed Anne.

  “This isn’t just any gauntlet you’re talking about, you know,” Jeffery continued. “This is my home. What if it’s permanently damaged? I’ll become an orphan! Do you have any idea what happens to homeless GPSs? Pretty soon I’ll be begging for scraps of old cooking recipes on the side of the road.”

  “Jeffery, calm down,” said Anne.

  Jeffery began gasping for air. “I—I can’t breathe.” He fell on the table and began thrashing around. “I think I’m dying.”

  Anne rolled her eyes. “You’re a magickal hologram. I’m pretty sure you don’t need air, and I highly doubt you’re dying. Also, this isn’t helping.”

  He hopped back on his feet. “Well, if I do die, won’t you be sorry?”

  Anne studied the gauntlet. “Is the Construct still in there?”

  Jeffery pointed to the swirling lines of energy. “Her matrix has almost completely destabilized. She can no longer appear. We need to transfer her to a computer terminal as soon as possible.”

  “If I were you, I would place that gauntlet in maintenance mode,” said the blacksmith. “That would at least give you a little more time.”

  “How do I do that?” asked Anne.

  “By using your blacksmith token, of course.”

  Anne brought her token out again. She had always thought it was simply proof of her official role in the group. She didn’t realize it could actually be used for something. She handed it to the blacksmith.

  The blacksmith looked perplexed when she saw the token up close. “Where did you get this, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Anne shrugged. “It’s the token I pulled out of the Bag of Chance. Why, is something wrong with it?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with it,” said the blacksmith. “But it isn’t a token.”

  “What? What is it, then?”

  The blacksmith turned it over in her hand several times. “Have you ever heard of a skeleton key?”

  “That’s the same as a master key, isn’t it?” said Hiro. “It’s a key that fits any lock.”

  “Well, a specific group of locks, but close enough. What you have here is the medallion equivalent of a master key—a sort of master medallion, if you will.”

  Anne studied the token with renewed curiosity. “What does that mean?”

  “You can use a master medallion in place of any other medallion. It will grant you access to any quest.”

  “So you’re saying that with the master medallion I don’t actually need the gold one?”

  “That’s right. You could simply access the quest using this.” The blacksmith gestured to her gauntlet. “May I?”

  Anne held out her gauntlet-hand.

  The blacksmith pressed the token into the medallion slot on Anne’s gauntlet. It was smaller than a medallion, but nevertheless it clicked into place. At first, nothing happened. Soon, however, the token began to warp and change until it became a smooth black medallion that completely filled the slot. Even more curious, the black medallion bore the image of a dragon.

  “Hmmm, how interesting,” said the blacksmith. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s the Sign of Zarala.”

  Anne’s eyes widened. “You know what this is?”

  “I’ve seen it before. It was in a very strange book.”

  Anne’s heart skipped a beat. “What strange book?”

  “Well, actually it’s just a single page. Curious thing, though, it’s constantly changing what it says, although it always manages to be of interest. But it’s been stuck on the same thing since yesterday.”

  “You have it here? Can we see it?”

  The blacksmith retrieved a wooden box from the mantel of the fireplace and removed a piece of paper. She handed it to Anne. On the page was a picture of the High Castle, with its three towers showing prominently. There were also three medallions, one next to each tower, and each with a name written beneath it: “Darkflame” beneath the copper, “Shatterblade” beneath the silver, and “Daisywheel” beneath the gold.

  Anne nearly cried. “Look at this! It’s a page from The Adventurer’s Guide! And it has information about our quest!”

  The others gathered around her.

  “But I thought the gold medallion was the Darkflame Medallion,” said Marri.

  “It’s curious you should say that,” said the blacksmith. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since the image appeared two days ago, and I could be wrong, but to my thinking this refers to the tale of the Princess Sara and Uz of the Whold.”

  “The who and the what?” asked Penelope.

  “Legend has it, many thousands of years ago the Princess Sara created three medallions: copper, silver, and gold. Her servant Uz became jealous and coveted the medallions for himself, so she banished him from the kingdom. But she was afraid he would return one day, so she entrusted each of the medallions to three families who had served her well. You can see from the pictures who they were. The copper belonged to the Darkflame family, the silver to the Shatterblade family, and the gold to the Daisywheel family.”

  “The gold didn’t go to the Darkflame family?” asked Hiro.

  “See, that’s the interesting part. Most people miss it. In addition to containing a quest, each medallion was designed for a specific task to do with this castle, but it could only be activated b
y a member of the correct family. But the secret was, they traded. Each family kept a medallion for one of the other families. For instance, although the gold medallion could only be activated by a Daisywheel, it was held in safekeeping by the Darkflames. The silver could only be activated by a Shatterblade but was held by the Daisywheels, and the copper could only be activated by the Darkflames but was held by the Shatterblades. That added another layer of security. The picture here shows the proper relationships.” She beamed at them. “I’m impressed you’re all so knowledgeable on the subject.”

  Anne handled the page with great care. “Where did you get this?”

  “It was payment for some work I did. The client didn’t have any money, so she paid me with a single page from her book. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but it’s turned out to be quite handy.”

  “Can you describe this woman?”

  The blacksmith gave this some thought. “Tall. Thin. Brown skin. Silver hair. Well dressed. She’d recently suffered a terrible accident, though, and lost her hand. She wanted me to attach a metal hand she had in its place. I’d never heard of such a thing. Didn’t have the first clue how I’d go about it. But then she had this book that contained all the instructions. Same book that page you’re holding came from.”

  Anne looked to Penelope and Hiro. “That had to be the Evelyn doppelganger. That’s how she got her metal hand.”

  “And she must have had The Adventurer’s Guide with her,” said Hiro.

  “That’s how it ended up at Saint Lupin’s,” added Penelope. “The Matron brought it with her when she returned and took the real Evelyn’s place.”

  The blacksmith looked at them curiously. “You speak as if this is all more than just a story.”

  Anne held up the piece of paper. “Can we borrow this? I promise we’ll bring it back.”

  The blacksmith nodded. “Certainly, if you think it will help. But why do I get the feeling I’ve missed something very important?”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” exclaimed Anne.

  They headed out the door, but Anne stopped at the threshold. “I just realized, we don’t have anything to pay you with.”