by Sever Bronny
“Let’s get one more coin,” Augum said. “That way we can at least maybe get into the 5th degree section. Then we head back and get some sleep.” It was late, and he was so tired he could barely concentrate on his spells.
They pushed deeper into the labyrinth, casting Object Track at significant forks. Unconceal helped them avoid several traps, one of which triggered despite their caution, revealing a deep shaft.
“Maybe they really are trying to murder warlocks,” Leera commented, glancing down into the darkness. “I think I see corpses.”
Augum peeked into the bottomless shaft. “No you don’t.”
“All right, I don’t.”
At last, they stumbled into a ruined section of the labyrinth. Just as they stepped over a rubble wall, the smell hit them.
Leera gagged. “Ugh—! What died?”
Bridget held her nose. “I think we’re at the sewers.”
“Oh, we’re so going back—”
“Wait.” Augum saw something ahead catch his palm light. His hand was the only one that was lit—they had long resorted to taking turns to conserve their energies. “Let’s just explore a little longer.”
They crept forward, keeping their sleeves firmly over their noses, soon reaching the bank of a wide and fast-moving river of sludge. But that’s not what caught their attention. On the other side, sitting on a dais, were five golden coins.
Augum searched the bank. “How do we get across?” There wasn’t a boat or bridge to be seen.
Bridget gave them a grave look. “I know how to get across.”
“You don’t mean—”
“I do, and this time, it isn’t going to be me.”
“Nor me,” Leera quickly added, giving the foul green waters a putrid look. She punched Augum’s shoulder. “You’re it.”
Augum groaned. “Fine, but are you two sure you’re up to the task? It’s a bit of a distance, and I don’t want to fall in just cause you two got tired.”
“Ye vill ‘ave to trust us, shpineless malingerer.”
Augum sighed and readied himself while the girls took a moment to concentrate. Then they both slowly lifted him up using Telekinesis, and began floating him over the bank. His palm lit the brackish waters below, but he tried not to look, or imagine what would happen should he fall in.
“Almost there!” he called out. Only feet away from the bank, he felt a lurch and his foot skimmed the top of the water. Luckily, the girls caught him and set him down safely on the other side, before collapsing in a gasping heap.
After making sure it wasn’t a trap, Augum recovered the coins, finding a portal etching on the wall. A least there was a way out of there if he needed it.
“Hey, are you two going to be able to bring me back?”
“Only if you want to go for a swim!” Leera called.
“Sorry, Aug, we’re exhausted!”
Uh oh, now what? He didn’t want to take the portal without them. He spotted a tunnel a ways up the bank.
“Stay there, I’ll see if there’s a way around!” and he tore off up the bank, palm lit. The walls here were crude, as if he were in a mine, and the floor was covered in slime. “Great,” he started muttering to himself. “Stuck in this filth with no—” Suddenly there was a spring sound and a sparkling cloud of powder blew into his face from a nearby wall. His light extinguished as he coughed, plunging him into total darkness. Oops, he had forgotten to check for traps.
And then something quite unexpected happened: iron candelabras gracefully descended from the ceiling, lighting a grand feast on a long table. There was roast duck, pheasant, loaves of fresh bread, all types of soups, fine silver plates and flatware and crystal goblets—
“Hello, Augum.”
He turned around and saw two almond-shaped eyes staring at him. They were the color of brilliant emerald.
“Mya …”
She wore a pristine white gown. A wreath of bright roses circled her long jet hair. She extended a porcelain hand. “Please have a seat with me.”
“Oh, of course.” It seemed perfectly natural that he should do just that. He accepted her hand and led her to one side of the table, which now had two finely ornate chairs on either side, and sat down across from her.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“Starving.” He placed a cloth onto his lap, as seemed proper.
“What are you going to start on first?”
“Such a grand selection.” He glanced up and down the table. Everything looked delicious and smelled so good. He’d eat here forever if he could—
“You could eat as long as you want,” Mya whispered with a wink. “And stay as long as you’d like. Would you like to do that, Augum? Would you like to stay with me?”
He nodded like a simple child. “Very much so.” She was as radiant as ever. But where had she been all this time? He couldn’t recall losing her. His brain had a bit of a mist in it.
She smiled pleasantly. “What are you going to eat first?”
“Oh, I don’t know, kind of hard to choose.” Everything was just so … good-looking and tasty. He glanced at the iron candelabras. “Beautiful …”
She looked up as well, and that’s when he spotted a line at her throat. It was bleeding. “Are you all right?” he asked, reaching across for her hand, which she promptly stole away to conceal the wound.
“Oh, yes, I’m fine, thank you,” except the blood stained her sleeve.
“You’re hurt.”
“I am fine. Why don’t you have a bite to eat, Augum?”
He stared at her. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. “You shouldn’t be here, should you?” he whispered.
“Augum, please, have a bite—”
“No.” This wasn’t right, none of it. Was he dreaming?
Mya giggled, the blood spreading on her sleeve. “Augum, you’re being silly. Please, have some chicken—”
“I said, NO!” He stood up, toppling the chair. The candelabras instantly snuffed, plunging him back into darkness. Yet he still heard her breathing. She was sitting right there in front of him.
He slowly raised his hand. “Shyneo.” His palm lit up a table of rotten food, behind which sat a woman in a white dress, except where he expected Mya’s face, he only saw a wreath of roses encircling a skull.
The skeleton opened its palm, revealing a shiny gold coin. Augum did not take the chance—he used Telekinesis to retrieve it. The skeleton closed its palm and sat there as he slowly backed away. Part of him panicked for a moment, thinking he had left Mya behind again in the darkness, but he also knew it wasn’t her, couldn’t be her …
He turned his back and moved on, using the subtle pull of Object Track to loosely guide his path through fork after fork and tunnel after twisting tunnel, until arriving at a rope bridge that spanned the river below.
“Great, now what,” he muttered, seeing the hulking figure of a dark-skinned man standing in the middle. Some of his flesh had rotted away, partially revealing his skull. Augum, in no mood to waste more time, marched onto the bridge toward the man, who started to speak.
“As long as I am clear-minded, you shall not pass—” but he barely finished speaking before Augum, who had already faced a Fear challenge that was similar, said, “Flustrato!” and the man choked on his own tongue before tumbling over the rope and into the water below. Augum hardly broke his stride except to collect the golden coin waiting for him at the end. He then quietly followed the riverbank until he found the girls patiently waiting for him.
“We were starting to get worried,” Leera said.
“How’d you acquire two extra coins though?” Bridget asked, accepting seven from Augum.
“Just a bit of trouble on the way, nothing major.” He clapped each of them on the back. “Let’s get out of here and catch some sleep, shall we? I’m exhausted.”
* * *
The trio had little difficulty returning to the room of many doors—all they had to do was unleash a portal, ac
complished by defeating a portcullis puzzle involving a series of levers. It also rewarded them with two more coins, which added up to eighteen.
They backtracked to the Hall of Ancestry, Bridget picking up the candle along the way and depositing it back onto Watts’ desk. Then they expertly freed the walker while one of them held a portal open.
The hallways of the great library were a little trickier in the wee hours of a stormy morning—a tired Legion guard spotted them immediately, and it took some agile lying to convince the man that they were just eager necrophytes looking for the training room, trying to get some extra early practicing in to impress their superiors. Luckily, the guard was a bit of a dimwit and never caught on, even escorting them personally to their room. There they found a sleeping Malaika and Charissa. Bridget left a note asking them not to wake the trio until the first strike of the afternoon bell.
As Augum lay in his bed listening to the tap of rain against the windows and the distant howl of the wind, he thought of that foggy moment supping with Mya, and truly hoped it had not been her.
Antioc, Day Three
As requested, the trio was woken up by Malaika and Charissa at the toll of the first afternoon bell. Actually, Malaika woke Augum, who then had to wake the girls, while she kept trying to convince him to come down and have lunch with her alone, something that only made him flash her a hard look.
“Fine, then we’ll see you down there for the meeting,” she finally conceded, and left with Charissa in tow.
The trio groggily began a whirlwind of activity. They did their makeup routine to look as far from the wanted poster as they could, raised their hoods, snagged a copy of the Antioc Herald, and raced to the lunch meeting with Malaika and Charissa in the Supper Hall.
After filling Malaika and Charissa in on some of the details of what had transpired below in the dungeons (the trio did not feel it safe to inform them of everything, such as the gargoyle coins they hid in their room), they caught up on the day’s events.
“… and he’s really quite a brute,” Charissa added, referring to Augum’s next opponent. “That’s why his nickname works so well for him.”
“So … he’s a bully?” Leera cracked a grin. “Aug’s getting pretty good at defeating bullies.”
“Just wait until you see him though,” Malaika said. “He’s much older. I think he was held back in school or something. Got a mean-looking face. But he’s also another necrophyte with a bit of a following in the stands. We saw him fight yesterday.”
“Can’t wait to see you fight today, Hood!” someone shouted as they strolled nearby.
Other people, suddenly aware The Hood was in their presence, quickly took up the call.
Augum kept his head down and concentrated on his soup. “Great,” he muttered.
“All right, people, settle down!” Leera finally had to shout. “Sheeze, you’d think Attyla the Mighty just waltzed in here. “ She elbowed Augum. “And you—try to have a boring fight this time, would you?” Her voice dropped. “Don’t need any more attention, do we?”
“Right.” Maybe he’d try to make it so that he was losing for a while, before somehow striking a win. That should quiet things down.
“It’s because he’s in the Heralds,” Malaika proudly said, extending a copy to Leera.
“You mean the Herald,” Leera replied, snagging it.
“No, I mean the Heralds—the Blackhaven has a snippet on him as well.”
Leera skimmed the parchment. Her eyes widened. “Aug, do you want hear what they’re writing about y—”
“Nope.” He didn’t need his head getting bigger, or worrying about what people were saying. He was here on a quest, and he had to focus. This fame business was all sheer nonsense anyway, as Nana would say.
“Not even the awesome part about how you—”
“Nope.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Malaika gave Charissa a snooty look. “Quite prudent, I must say.”
Charissa gave a high-browed nod. “Indeed.” Then she frowned, whispering, “By ‘prudent’, you mean smart, right?”
Malaika placed a hand to her forehead. “Oh for …”
Leera narrowed her eyes at them but said nothing. She went back to the Herald and snorted. “Temper’s out. Defeated five-nothing. Wish I had seen that.”
“We saw her duel,” Charissa said. “She got slapped in the face for the final point. The whole crowd laughed, especially because she had a lot to say pre-match about how she was going to beat the snot out of the other girl.”
Malaika’s face tightened. “We also saw Robin duel.”
Augum perked up. “Oh?” Unfortunately they had missed his morning duel, needing the sleep.
Malaika shared a look with Charissa. “He’s, uh …”
“He’s what—?”
“Quite advanced,” Charissa blurted. “He cast all this weird magic—”
“Arcanery,” Leera promptly corrected.
“Well, not exactly. It’s kind of evil stuff.”
“Necromancy is still arcanery.”
“Whatever. Anyway, he cast a lot of it.” She put a pale finger to her lips. “At least, I think it was necromancy, I’m not an expert or anything.”
“No kidding,” Leera muttered.
“He was showing off mostly,” Malaika said. “And we were told he knows a 5th degree spell too, and some off-the-book ones, whatever that means.”
Augum felt all the girls’ eyes on him. “Interesting,” he muttered. Not good is what he really wanted to say. Robin was already working on the 5th degree!
Leera nudged him with her shoulder. “That muttering of yours is becoming a habit.”
He didn’t reply.
“I’ve been thinking,” Bridget said, finishing reading the Antioc Herald over Leera’s shoulder. “We don’t have time to learn 5th degree spells, but we can train. After Augum’s match, I think that’s what we should be doing until the eighth strike of the afternoon bell. Then we meet here for a late supper and discussion, before heading down to you-know-where.” She gave the slightest nod at the floor, toward the dungeon labyrinth. “The only thing is getting back in there again.”
Charissa shrugged. “Just go the same way you went last time.” She frowned as if struggling with a complex idea. “How did you get in there?”
Leera made a poof gesture with her hands. “Magic.”
“I thought you said—”
“Never mind.”
Charissa folded her arms across her chest. “Wish you weren’t here.”
“I bet you do.”
“Just ignore her,” Malaika said, mirroring the arm-folding gesture. “She thinks she’s so clever.”
Charissa gave a little head bob, hair bouncing. “She’s just jealous she can’t be a spy like us.”
Leera shook her head, not bothering to respond.
Bridget returned to spooning her soup. “Can we just … stop?”
They finished their lunch and parted ways, Malaika and Charissa giving Augum and Bridget a warm goodbye, while turning a cold shoulder to Leera, who merely rolled her eyes.
“You needn’t press their buttons so much,” Bridget said as they filed out of the Supper Hall.
“Can’t help it. Those buttons are just so … big and pushable.”
Bridget sighed but said no more on the subject.
As they paced the dimly-lit halls on their way to the portal room, they came across Secretary Klines. The gray-robed beetle-like woman glanced around to make sure they were alone before approaching them.
“How are you faring?” she asked in her squeaky voice. Her eyes, magnified to absurd proportions by her thick spectacles, traveled over their faces as if she was worried they may be coming down with something.
“Uh, fine, Secretary Klines,” Augum replied. He had a thousand questions, but didn’t want to voice any of them in such a public place.
Klines waited for a young gray-robed attendant to pass before quietly saying, “I hear word of a disturban
ce in the Hall of Ancestry. Secretary Watts is quite upset about a number of items being out of place. She seems to think three necrophytes, who she swears are ‘up to no good’ had something to do with it.” There was a hint of a proud smile.
“She’s a bit of a pest,” Leera said.
“Indeed.”
“Secretary Klines,” Bridget interrupted. “Can … can we ask you a tiny favor?”
“Library tradition dictates that no hints be—”
“No, not that. Um, we were kind of hoping you could … remove Secretary Watts from her post a little early tonight.”
Klines studied Bridget a moment before the corner of her tiny mouth curved with a smile. “I shall see what I can do.” Her giant eyes flicked to a spot behind them. “Ah, Secretary Watts—”
Augum and the girls did not dare to turn around. They had not even heard her approach, as if she had been spying on them.
“Secretary Klines,” Watts said in her gratingly snippy voice. “How do you do. I see you have found the trouble-makers I have been searching for. I am sure you are aware of the disturbance in the Hall of Ancestry—?”
“I am.”
“Further, I have discovered that my walker had damage to its chest. There were numerous scratch marks along the floor. I find this a most grievously disturbing occurrence, and I demand an immediate investigation by the head office, and these—” Augum saw a chubby hand with long sharp nails flick between himself, Bridget and Leera, “—be remanded into custody and questioned. I believe them to be—” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “Trying to get in to the you-know-what.”
Secretary Klines placed her hands behind her back. “I see. I, too, have been informed of something interesting. It seems there have been reports of damage to some of the display pieces in the Hall of Ancestry—”
Augum could sense Watts ballooning. “Quite right! There was a statue of that villainous traitor—”
“I speak of a wide variety of statues and display pieces. I hear it on good authority that someone’s walker may be damaging valuable property.”
“But surely you do not—”
“There is a rumor, Secretary Watts.”