Murmuring something in his amphibian language, Tjark raised himself up and focused his mind once more on his Lung-dor. The purple bubble reappeared.
Undeterred, Larn unleashed a flurry of attacks, furiously stabbing away at the priest’s armour. The web cladding completely fell away from Tjark, but Larn continued his assault.
Tjark screamed a throaty, gargling cry of anguish. He jumped upon the altar and raised his hands in the air. A whirling, whooshing sound preceded a giant wave of water, washing the adventurers and many of the congregation away.
As soon as the wave had subsided, Vadania ran once more toward the priest. When she got to the altar, there was no purple bubble, and no Lung-dor. Her eyes widened as she saw Tjark lying on the floor behind the altar, burnt to a cinder. His body was charred in exactly the same way as the Frupgoan that they’d found floating in the pool upstairs.
‘The idol is gone,’ Vadania shouted. ‘It’s the fallen mage.’
Osrik stood, battle-axe in hand, in front of Alla’fyr. She was almost invisible but for the air melting away around her outline, and the shining idol in her hand. The older dwarf had worked alongside her long enough to sense her presence even when he couldn’t fully see her. Vadania, Rangrim and Larn fell in behind him.
‘I’ve always despised that term, you know,’ Alla’fyr said, from behind her veil of invisibility. ‘It implies we mages are somehow called to a higher purpose. Which is rot.’
The air around Alla’fyr bubbled as she gradually let go of her invisibility, regaining solid form.
‘Some of us are just born this way,’ she said mockingly.
‘What are you going to do with that?’ Osrik asked through gritted teeth.
Alla’fyr held up the bright object that had been at the heart of the mad priest’s ceremony.
‘I’m going to get paid,’ she laughed. ‘But there’s no reason not to have a little fun first.’
Since Tjark’s spell had been broken, panic had spread over the crowd of Frupgoans. Some screamed and others ran to exit the tomb. More and more followed until they were leaving en masse.
Alla’fyr summoned a ball of fire with her palm.
‘Don’t do this-’ Osrik pleaded.
The mage propelled her flaming missile into the retreating crowd. It landed with a roar and a hundred screams, incinerating fleeing Frupgoans in huge swathes of fire. Alla’fyr laughed and Osrik took the bait. He launched himself forward with surprising agility and dodged the bursts of flame that flashed past his head. Osrik brought his axe in a great arch across the fallen mage’s chest. She effortlessly swerved away. The dwarf swung the axe again, sweeping at Alla’fyr’s ankles. The mage sprang backwards, dodging the attack.
While Osrik and Alla’fyr clashed, Sawwse rose to her feet in another corner of the room, and brushed herself down. She’d ended up trapped under a group of Frupgoans after Tjark’s wave had washed them away. The little gnome quickly checked her pack for her lute and the Gnomeopedia, but both still seemed to be dry and intact. It was only then that she spotted the chaos. There were Frupgoans rolling on the floor, desperately trying to put out the flames clinging to their web cladding. The fire spread to the coffins lining the tomb walls. Dark, choking smoke began to fill the chamber.
Sawwse spun around. Osrik and Alla’fyr’s battle had brought them both closer to the gnome. The golden, glinting light of the idol caught her eye. It was clutched in Alla’fyr’s hand as she ducked and wove around Osrik’s attempted axe blows, but surely there was an opportunity here. The mage’s back was to Sawwse and she was distracted. The gnome crept forward until the red glow of Alla’fyr’s flames flickered on her face. Sawwse leapt as high as she could and grabbed hold of the mage’s arm.
‘Sawwse, no!’ Osrik shrieked.
But it was too late.
Sawwse’s excitement quickly turned to fear as she was dragged up from the floor and into the air. Floating above the chamber, Alla’fyr turned her skeletal face towards the gnome. An awful smile spread across Alla’fyr’s thin lips and hollow cheeks. The mage’s red robe opened up and grew as wide as a tent. It enveloped Sawwse and the sights, sounds and smells of the room vanished, leaving only the skull.
‘There is a saying where I come from: terror seeks the infirm and out of place. I could kill you now. It would be so simple. I could do it with the click of my fingers.’
Sawwse opened her mouth to speak, but breathed in a lungful of smoke instead.
‘However, your reputation in the Dorienne kingdom amuses me,’ Alla’fyr continued. ‘A worthless gnome causing a kingdom’s meltdown. What fools. Remember that you are small and have no place here.’
‘To clarify,’ Sawwse began, impudently, ‘do we mean here in this chamber? Or here in-’
She coughed and spluttered as she breathed in the black smoke.
‘You are nothing,’ Alla’fyr sighed. Her smile faded and she dispelled the darkness from Sawwse. ‘You cry out for adventure. Well, you’ve found it.’
The gnome found herself clinging to Alla’fyr’s leg fifty feet above the ceremonial room. Smoke stung her eyes.
‘I would love to stay here and torture you, but alas. This is a mere distraction.’
Alla’fyr snapped her fingers and with a flash of fire she disappeared in a haze of smoke. Sawwse grasped at the air, but found no purchase. She fell like lead.
Chapter 13: Imbuement
It was said that your life flashed in front of your eyes before you died. But this wasn’t true for most Blue Forest gnomes. Of course, when most gnomes of the Blue Forest passed away they were in their home, surrounded by their community. It was usually a calm and peaceful time, during which the dying gnome could talk through their memories at length. Their life didn’t so much ‘flash’, as it played out over days like a durational piece of Dwarven avant-garde performance. Still, Sawwse Bohge was in the process of finding out that when you were dropped from fifty feet in the air, you really didn’t get much of a chance to curate your memories. Her mind bounced from Dannse Gan and her stories, to the parents she never knew; from the ogre friend that she had upset, to the strange woman, Mirrah. She thought of how cruelly short her adventure had been. And then she thought about how much longer it took to plummet through the air than she expected.
Sawwse’s falling form came to an abrupt halt, hovering a foot from the chamber floor. Corinne stood facing the gnome with her palms held out, a blue light glowing from their centre. She had caught Sawwse with a gentle levitation spell, just in time.
‘Well, that’s a relief,’ chuckled Corinne. ‘I was eighty percent sure that was the right spell.’
Sawwse’s mossy green skin suddenly turned as pale as watery pea soup.
‘Are you okay?’ Osrik said, rushing to check on the gnome.
‘I thought I was going to die,’ Sawwse muttered. ‘I couldn’t do anything. I felt so worthless and then she was… gone.’
The dwarf looked down at his feet. He had never been the best at working out what to say to comfort someone. The rest of the group gathered around Sawwse.
‘The idol?’ Larn asked, to the point.
Sawwse shook her head, shamefaced. Her chest racked with pain as another coughing fit started.
‘This isn’t your fault,’ said Ruby, quietly. She placed an arm around her friend and drew her in for a close embrace.
‘We need to leave,’ said Vadania, with some urgency.
Fire now encircled the room and the air was thick with foul, black smoke. Not only that, but the battered sandstone walls of the chamber began to shake and crumble. The water-filled tunnel system that the Frupgoans had dug throughout the tomb had significantly damaged its structural integrity. Tjark’s tsunami and Alla’fyr’s explosions of fire had weakened it further, meaning it was only a matter of time before the whole tomb structure collapsed.
Osrik grabbed Sawwse and thrust her onto his back. Rangrim did the same with Ruby, and the others followed as they cha
rged out of the chamber.
The pools of water in the next room were filled with diving Frupgoans. The amphibian creatures scrambled to escape from the smoke and flames, departing their temple and beginning an aquatic search for another home. Kali stood alone, waiting for the adventurers.
‘Wait, take me with you. Please,’ she cried.
‘You cannot go with us,’ Vadania answered sternly. She barrelled past the young Frupgoan, along with Larn and Rangrim. Osrik and Corinne hesitated.
‘It’s no life for you,’ Osrik mumbled, staring at his feet once again. He ran off with Sawwse upon his shoulders. The gnome saw Kali through bleary eyes. Sawwse waved, but then dropped out of consciousness.
Corinne took Kali’s hand.
‘Come on, I’m going to introduce you to someone,’ she said.
Corinne whisked Kali away, following the footsteps of her guild mates. As they emerged back in the initial chamber, they found the archaeologist, Lin, looking ghostly white. It seemed that some of the Frupgoans had decided to seek a new life overground, and they had given the archaeologist quite the shock as they streaked past him.
‘Hello again, Lin,’ Corinne said, speaking very quickly as she stopped to face him. ‘This child needs to be enrolled at your university. She’s exceptionally bright, and would not only be an asset as a student, but also as a fieldwork assistant. For now though, we need to leave right away before the tomb collapses and crushes us.’
Lin stared at Corinne and Kali in horror.
‘B-b-but,’ he stuttered.
‘No ifs and no buts, I’m afraid,’ Corinne interrupted. ‘Oh, and my colleague Larn here will be reviewing your progress. It’s a mandatory probationary period.’
Larn appeared behind Corinne and loomed over the faltering archaeologist. Lin wasn’t completely sure what was happening, but he nodded his head in bemusement. He scooped up as many artefacts as he could manage into a bag and then followed Corinne to the exit.
Vadania climbed out of the tomb first and threw down more rope for the others. Osrik escaped with Sawwse. He ran a safe distance away, and left her alongside Rangrim and Ruby, before returning to the tomb with Vadania. They descended once again to ensure as many Frupgoans got out as possible. The tomb crackled as the collapse made its way to the entrance. Vadania and Osrik hastened up the rope and ran from the craggy outcrop toward the others.
The structure holding together the tomb finally gave way. The limestone rocks crumbled and caved in, destroying all traces of the ancient burial place. The rockfall’s rumble reverberated for some time. The ensuing silence was only undercut by the marshy-throated calls of the Frupgoans, blinded by Elra's light and bewildered in the world above the ground.
--
When the adventurers arrived back at The Happy Hearth, Convener immediately called for a guild meet. They assembled in the same dimly lit room as always. Corinne began the meeting by delivering a detailed analytical report to Convener. She’d taken it upon herself to do this, and had composed the report mentally on the walk back from the tomb. The team sat in an awkward silence, as Corinne, oblivious to any tension, laid out their failings.
‘-but I calculate that, although we executed the key deliverable, investigating the mysterious energy spike, we should still count our mission as ultimately unsuccessful.’
Convener held one finger to either temple, his horned mask, as always, floated an inch from his face. He was silent for some time after Corinne had finished speaking.
‘So, the source of magical energy had been an idol,’ Convener said, finally, ‘which is now in the mage’s possession. Curious.’
The others waited for him to speak again, but he did not.
‘Had I been on my own the guild would have obtained the idol,’ Larn goaded. He looked around the room, deliberately searching for someone to take the bait. ‘The gnome grabbed the wizard, which ruined everything. That was our one chance.’
Sawwse’s stomach lurched with shame. ‘This feels much worse than the time I got caught nibbling the landlord’s blueberry muffins,’ she thought. To her right, Sawwse noticed the downy hair on Ruby’s neck bristle and his shoulders began to hunch. The gnome quickly patted his leg.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘Yes, I was foolhardy. Had I been more prepared, we would now have the idol. I’m very sorry.’
‘No,’ Osrik sighed, deeply. ‘The fault is not your own.’
‘Our experienced colleague is correct,’ Convener concurred, placing his hands flat on the oak table. ‘But I’d like to clarify something. Despite whatever bombastic rumours this mage, Alla’fyr, may have said, she has almost certainly not fallen from The Twelve. Believe me when I tell you that you’d know if she had. However, she is clearly very powerful, and someone who could only be defeated with a concerted effort from us all. That is nothing to be ashamed of.’
Sawwse, never one to stay glum for long, flooded with relief almost immediately.
‘It isn’t just that she’s dangerously powerful,’ Osrik added. ‘She also wouldn’t hesitate to take a life.’
The gnome’s smile faded, though she felt even more thankful that she’d made it out of the tomb alive.
‘Hey, why’s your bag so bulky?’ Rangrim asked suddenly, yanking Larn’s bag from under the table.
‘You imbecile,’ Larn snapped.
The young dwarf tossed the bag away from Larn. It clanked as it hit the centre of the table. Larn grabbed at the bag, but Vadania quickly sliced through the cloth with her long knife, spilling the contents. Ritual gold and silver, shiny metals, and jewels spread in front of the team. Larn sat back in his chair and folded his arms.
‘Correct me if I am wrong, but this wouldn’t happen to be treasure that belonged to the Frupgoans, would it?’ Corinne asked, consternation showing clearly on her face.
‘We need it more than they do,’ Larn answered defiantly.
Convener leant forward and surveyed the haul.
‘You have done well, Larn. This should keep our boarding here for some time,’ he said. His mask’s eyes drooped slightly. ‘I must say though, I am slightly disappointed. I fear that the idol was more valuable than riches. It is important, but I am yet to understand why.’
‘What’s more valuable than riches?’ Rangrim asked, laughing.
The horned mask furrowed at the brow.
‘Time will tell,’ he whispered, unheard by the others. The mask smoothed out to a neutral expression once again. ‘That is all for now. I will stay behind and arrange the payment of our board.’
The team filed out of the room. Larn glowered first at Sawwse, then at Convener, and finally at the riches splayed on the table, before sulking out of the room. The gnome stayed seated at the table while Convener separated out the metals into piles.
‘I am very sorry about losing the idol.’
Sawwse found it difficult to look up as she spoke. She still felt responsible for their failure.
‘As I said, I am concerned about this idol,’ he said, not making Sawwse feel much better. ‘What did Alla’fyr want with it, and who is she working for? I suspect answers to these questions will not be revealed to us just yet.’
The gnome waited for words of consolation, but they never arrived.
‘I’m disappointed because I need money for my music tuition,’ she said. ‘Con Duco has said he’ll teach me, but only if I’m able to pay him. Something to do with the Council dropping funding.’
‘Yes, I see. Con Duco. I look forward to sensing his influence on you.’
‘Is there any way to make any extra money?’ Sawwse asked baldly.
‘You came face-to-face with doom earlier, you need to get some rest. There will be plenty of opportunities for redemption soon. Our web is spinning.’
After this enigmatic statement, Convener turned back to the piles of metal and continued to sort through them. Sawwse left the room and made her way to bed.
--
Over the next
week, Sawwse Bohge’s dreams were plagued by images of doom, dark clouds and fiery storms. Though still lucid, she had less control over them than she normally would. She would often wake sweating after falling into a pit, pushed in by skeletons or imps or fiends.
After a particularly restless sleep, she woke before first light and wandered downstairs with the Gnomeopedia, borrowing a candle to read by. Sawwse trawled the pages for any mention of magical idols, Lung-dors, or fallen mages, but found nothing that seemed to be of any use. There was a small section on Frupgoans, but it described them as a peaceful people that lived in a grand, pink-hued lagoon. Sawwse couldn’t concentrate. She read the same sentence over and over until she woke herself up with a loud, muffled, ‘Hngmmph.’
Sawwse snapped her head awake and wiped the drool from her chin. She was curled up on a wingback chair opposite the unlit hearth. How long had she been asleep? Jumping to her feet, she saw Ruby sitting alone at a table.
‘Ruby, what time is it?’ Sawwse asked as she rushed over.
‘Oh, I’m rubbish with time,’ Ruby replied. ‘I’ve about as much sense of time as a sloth on a wagon.’
Sawwse was about to dash out of the room when Ruby said, ‘Wait.’
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I need to talk to you about something,’ the changeling said, meekly.
‘Absolutely,’ the gnome answered. Her smile faltered. ‘But not right now. I’m sorry, I think I might be late for my first tuition.’
The chimes of a local church confirmed Sawwse’s suspicions. Now she knew that she had half an hour to get to Con Duco’s residence in Northern Rhyddinas: Fifty-four Salthaz Lane. Having scoped out the house many times over the last few weeks, the gnome also knew that it took about half an hour to walk there. Sawwse apologised again to Ruby, and then darted out of the inn, leaving a despondent Ruby to sit alone with some bread.
In the Grip of Time Page 14