The Lost Tower

by Eric Martinez

She ran her fingertips lightly over the leaves of a butterfly bush, and the leaves split open and fluttered like wings, revealing colorful patterns that brought a smile to her face. A light breeze stirred the drooping limbs of a nearby twinkling willow. The rustling of its branches sounded like a thousand delicate wind chimes ringing together, and its blossoming flowers lit up like a starry sky.

  Her eyes traced the intricate symbols woven into the willow’s trunk. The Greens had cultivated the tree over the previous centuries, naturally shaping the sigils in the bark that imbued it with the properties Sephi loved.

  She sighed. Magic was capable of creating things of such staggering beauty, but most mages just cared about using their gifts to stay in power. She wondered if her kind was caged by the circumstances of their creation. Mages had been created to fight and conquer. Maybe they could never get away from their roots.

  Sephi refused to believe that, though. Like the twinkling willow, her people could shape themselves into something majestic and beautiful. All it would take was effort and time. She hoped it would happen someday.

  To make that future even the slightest bit possible, she needed to get her hands on the Zekarian Whispers before anyone else did.

  Before heading home, Sephi stopped at the Cantina Vela. Bobby was there as usual, and she informed him that she would take his job offer. More importantly, she made him promise he would inform his client that she had accepted and would be leaving in the morning.

  Sephi would suffer a thousand deaths before handing the Whispers to the Occultum willingly, but if they thought she was working for them, she assumed they wouldn’t send anyone else looking for the Whispers. In theory, it would allow her to retrieve the artifact without fighting dark mages along the way or having to race someone else to the prize. Or so she hoped.

  With that errand complete, Sephi went to Echo’s place. She entered without knocking.

  Echo stood in front of a long wooden table with her back to the door. She appeared to be arranging bottles and vials into neat rows, like she was taking stock of her supplies.

  “Pack your bags,” Sephi announced.

  Echo jumped, startled. Her head whipped around, and a smile brightened her face. “Holy shit. You’re alive.”

  Sephi grinned. “Not the reaction I was expecting, but I’ll take it.”

  “You know I mean ‘holy shit’ in a good way, right? Like, hooray, you’re safe.”

  “I don’t know about safe,” Sephi said.

  Echo cleared some books off her bed and gestured for Sephi to sit. “How the hell did you get away from the Council?”

  Sephi sat on the bed, and Echo lowered herself on a stool by the table. The Green looked at her friend eagerly.

  Sephi shrugged. “They don’t call me the master of evasion for nothing. No one can keep me in chains for long.”

  Echo shot her a look of disbelief. “No one calls you that.”

  “I mean, some people call me that.”

  “No one in the history of the world has ever called you that,” Echo said.

  “Okay, fine,” Sephi said. “The Council offered me a deal, and I took it.”

  Echo crossed her arms over her chest. “What kind of deal?”

  “I have to get something for them, and then, all my past crimes will be forgiven.”

  “Something?” Echo asked. “I don’t like it when you’re vague like that. It means you’re hiding things from me.”

  “Well, you’re gonna laugh,” Sephi said.

  “I doubt it.”

  “But they want me to find the Whispers, too.”

  Echo did laugh. “You’re so full of shit.”

  “What do you mean? I’m dead serious.”

  “Right,” Echo said. “This isn’t just an excuse to go chasing after Bobby’s job?”

  Sephi told Echo everything about her meeting with the Council, including Sephi’s theory that the Occultum had hired Bobby to find the Whispers.

  When Sephi was finished, Echo stared down at the floor in silence, seemingly lost in thought. After what seemed like minutes, Sephi broke the silence.

  “So, what do you think?”

  Echo shook her head. “I think you’re cursed. How the hell do you end up in situations like this? Caught between the Council and the Occultum?”

  “Well, I didn’t do it on purpose,” Sephi said.

  “What’s your next trick? Pissing off the angels in Etherean?”

  “Blame me all you want, but I wasn’t trying to involve myself in Council affairs. I was just trying to make a few coins. Maybe have a little fun.”

  Echo frowned. “Well, now that your ass is in the bacon grease, are you having fun?”

  Sephi fought hard to suppress her grin, but she failed.

  Echo’s mouth dropped open. “You are! That was a rhetorical question, but you’re enjoying this, you crazy bitch.”

  Sephi spread her hands innocently. “I can’t help it. I like the idea of going on an adventure with my best friend.”

  “You fucking want me to go with you?” Echo asked, her eyes wide with shock.

  Sephi nodded. “Of course. I can’t go on a road trip without my sidekick.”

  “I’m not your fucking sidekick.”

  “No, no, of course not,” Sephi said quickly. “But my point is, I need someone I can trust out there. That meathead Magnus won’t have my back.”

  “Magnus is going, too?” Echo asked.

  “Yeah, did I forget to mention that?”

  “You’re really just piling more turds into this shit sandwich. Do you really expect me to take a bite?”

  Sephi put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “No, not a bite. I want you to join me and eat the whole fucking thing. But it’s not a shit sandwich I’m offering you. It’s a sandwich with like, gold in it.”

  “So we can break our teeth?”

  “Or it’s filled with like, the finest pastries in the Citadel,” Sephi said.

  “So a bread sandwich?” Echo asked.

  “Or it’s got whatever the fuck you like in a sandwich, okay? It was your shitty metaphor. Just please come with me?”

  Echo scrubbed a hand over her face. “Fine, but a mission like this will require weeks of planning, intense training, and research. When are we supposed to leave?”

  “In about five hours.”

  Chapter 7

  The sun had risen too early for Sephi’s taste, which was nothing new. Now it hung high in the sky at the apex of its journey. She blinked against the glare as she guided her wagon along the road leading to Duskwood. Princess marched along happily in front of her, always thrilled to get out of the stables and stretch her legs.

  Echo slouched on the seat next to Sephi, still pouting about not having “adequate time to prepare.” Magnus sat in the back of the cart with the sacks of supplies he had brought from the Council. He hummed an old battle song as he sharpened his sword.

  They had passed through the Southern Pass an hour back. The Red guards at the mountain pass didn’t give them any trouble once Magnus showed them their letter of passage from the Council.

  Beyond the mountains, they followed the road as it veered southwest, cutting along the edge of the Valley of Lost Souls. Despite the depressing name, the land surrounding the road was lush with green trees and the twitter of birds. As they forged farther south, the trees thinned out and the temperature rose noticeably. Now the rugged terrain around them showed little sign of life, apart from stray tufts of grass that forced its way out of the brittle, hard-packed earth.

  Sephi groaned out of boredom. “Are we there yet?”

  “Not yet,” Magnus answered simply.

  “No shit,” Sephi muttered under her breath. Louder, she said, “So who the hell are we supposed to meet up with, anyway? Who is this mysterious man who can speak with the dead?”

  “The Night Brother,” Magnus said.

  “Great, thanks for being vague,” Sephi said. “That tells me nothing.”

  “I thought he wasn�
��t real,” Echo said and then stopped herself. “I guess all the legends I’ve read about are coming to life these days.”

  “You should sound more excited about that,” Sephi said.

  “It would be exciting if the stuff turning out to be real wasn’t the evilest shit I’ve ever heard of,” Echo said.

  “The Night Brother isn’t evil,” Magnus said.

  Sephi laughed. “He sure sounds evil. I mean, he’s not named Mr. Happy Sparkles.”

  This earned a grin from Echo. “Exactly.”

  Magnus slid his body up behind the driver’s seat. “The name is a play on his origin. He was a White Brother once.”

  “Yeah,” Echo said. “And he got kicked out for fucking with dead bodies.”

  Magnus scowled. “He did not fuck dead bodies.”

  “With dead bodies,” Echo said. “Dammit, Magnus.”

  “Talk about putting the romance back in necromancer,” Sephi muttered, but neither of the others responded to her.

  Magnus’s face was as red as his armor. “My apologies,” he said, sounding embarrassed. “I just thought—”

  Echo lifted her palm to cut him off. “We know what you were thinking about, you sicko.”

  Sephi saw the playful gleam in her friend’s eyes. Echo was having fun teasing the straitlaced warrior. The mortified expression on Magnus’s face told her he was not enjoying it nearly as much.

  Sephi took pity on him and chimed in to rescue him. “So, moving on. What’s this guy’s deal, Magnus? How did he earn such a cheerful nickname?”

  “You had it partially right earlier,” Magnus said. “He did discover necromancy, although not in the way you implied.”

  “Bullshit,” Echo exclaimed. “The Occultum has been dipping their rotten peckers in that pool since the First Mage’s time.”

  Magnus drew his shoulders back. “It is not bullshit. The Occultum uses blood magic to animate the dead. The Night Brother discovered how to create similar effects using White Magic.”

  “I thought Whites were all about healing and helping people,” Sephi said. “You know? Pussies.”

  Magnus’s lips twitched like he’d almost smiled. “Historically, they have been pacifists and healers, yes. Which was why the Night Brother’s work was so controversial. The White Brothers faced a dilemma. What to do with this new discovery. Francisco technically hadn’t done anything wrong. He was using the same skills that all White Brothers have. He just figured out how to use them to go beyond healing sickness and manipulate the body after death.”

  “He can bring people back from the dead?” Echo asked.

  “No, he can’t resurrect someone, but according to the Council, he can commune with certain souls from beyond the grave.”

  “Like the one who knows the way to the lost tower?” Sephi asked.

  Magnus nodded. “That is the working theory, yes.”

  “I hope it’s a little more than a theory if we’re traveling all this way to recruit this spooky monk,” Sephi said.

  “Father Barnabas seemed sure the Night Brother could help,” Magnus said. “I imagine it’s the only reason he would reach out to him after they exiled him a century ago.”

  “Goddamn Council,” Sephi muttered, pulling back on the reins to get Princess to turn. “Always trying to banish people. Innocent people, I might add.”

  Magnus shook his head. “Yes, the Night Brother was innocent, but you are a criminal.”

  Sephi made an offended sound and glanced at the Red. “You make me sound like a monster.”

  “The Council passed judgment on you,” he said. “Not me.”

  “You sure sound awfully judgmental,” she muttered.

  Magnus sighed. “Anyway, after casting him out, they worried that contacting the Night Brother directly would yield negative results.”

  “They thought he would tell them to go fuck themselves,” Sephi said, nodding.

  “I wouldn’t phrase it that way, but yes. The Council needed someone who might establish a bond of trust with him. Someone similar to him. An outcast, a disgrace, one of the Citadel’s rejects.”

  “Stop,” Sephi said flatly. “I can’t take all this flattery.”

  Suddenly, Magnus sat up and pointed ahead of the wagon. “Up there, where the road branches, take the western road. That will take us out of the Valley toward Duskwood.”

  Echo shook her head. “Who the hell would live in Duskwood? It’s nothing but monsters and things that want to kill you.”

  Magnus shrugged. “A necromancer.”

  “I hope Duskwood is more hospitable than this barren shithole,” Sephi said.

  “It is not,” he said flatly.

  They headed west through the afternoon, and life returned to the surrounding land. Scattered bushes gave way to clumps of trees until eventually, the road took them into actual forest again. The change was welcome at first, but soon, it was too much of a good thing. The dry road turned muddy beneath the cart, slowing them down, and humidity hung heavy in the air.

  Wet clods of dirt weighed down the cart’s wheels, making them difficult to turn on their axles. Princess continued to pull the cart behind her, but the wagon wasn’t rolling along so much as being dragged like a sledge.

  As the sun sank into the horizon, Sephi spotted a clearing in the trees beside the road.

  Sephi’s voice broke the silence. “Let’s stop and camp for the night.”

  “No, we should push on,” Magnus argued, though his tone sounded half-hearted, almost like the old fucker was obligated to put up a fight.

  “I wasn’t asking for opinions.” She gave him a curt look and pulled Princess off the path. They were stopping to camp. Period.

  After setting up everything, the group seemed to be in a more relaxed mood. Sephi was sure that even though Magnus protested, he was grateful for the chance to rest. None of them had gotten much sleep the night before.

  After a meal of cold meat and warm water, they sat around the campfire. Echo hovered over her bulky leather satchel, taking bottles and metal containers out and laying them on the ground.

  Magnus eyed the different magical bombs, seemingly fascinated. Sephi assumed it was because they were implements of war, something near and dear to the Red mage’s heart. Echo wasn’t the only enchanter who made potions and explosives like these, but every mage of any color put their own unique spin on spells or enchantments. Echo’s magical items were particularly singular. She had chosen to forge her own path with her creations, eschewing the tried and true formulas of her forebears.

  Magnus pointed at a round glass bottle filled with black liquid. The flames lit the etchings on the glass, showing a smiling pumpkin face. “What is that one, if I may ask?”

  Echo smiled like she always did when someone took an interest in her creations. She hefted the bottle in her hand to show it off. “I call this the Black O’Lantern.”

  Sephi shook her head. Echo loved giving her creations ridiculous names. But Sephi said nothing, not wanting to interrupt her friend when she was having fun. Their lives would be filled with trouble soon enough. No sense in being miserable until they absolutely had to be.

  “What does it do?” Magnus asked.

  “It erupts into a cloud of darkness in a ten-foot radius, so black it’s like someone turned off the sun.”

  Magnus nodded in approval. “And what of this green one?”

  Echo put the black bottle down and lifted up the iridescent green liquid. “This is the Widow Maker.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “A touch of spider venom to make it deadly, a hint of poison ivy for severe itching, and jimsonweed to make them delirious while they die.”

  “That sounds brutal,” Magnus said, but his tone made it clear it was a compliment. He pointed at a red translucent liquid gleaming evilly in the firelight. “And what is this foul concoction?”

  Echo held it up proudly. “I’m especially fond of this one. It’s my homemade hot sauce.”

  Magnus’s face fell. “Oh.
”

  “Don’t let her fool you,” Sephi said. “That’s probably the most dangerous thing in her bag of tricks. My mouth was on fire for a week.”

  Magnus nodded seriously. “I should like to try this hot sauce.”

  Echo beamed at his interest. “I’ll happily share some with you. Once we have a proper meal, that is.”

  Sephi noticed Echo stealing glances at Magnus when she thought no one was looking. Magnus was oblivious to the young Green’s attention, much like he was oblivious to anything that wasn’t combat related.

  He turned toward Sephi. “And you, Blue? When enemies find us, when the rage of battle grips us, what weapons will you bring to bear?”

  “I have the best weapon of all,” she said. “Surprise.”

  “Cheap tricks are all you illusionists have,” he said. “All flash and no substance. Good for putting on a show for children and not much else.”

  “Sometimes putting on a show is all you need,” Sephi said, standing up. She spread her fingers and wiggled them, like she was limbering up to cast a spell. “For instance, I can create creatures of pure shadow. Even the strongest, most fearless warriors cower in terror against them.”

  Magnus’s eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “I should like to see these creatures.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Sephi said. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  The warrior got to his feet, his face red in the firelight. “Show me, Blue!”

  “If you insist.” Sephi turned her body sideways in front of the fire, and she spread her hands in front of her with a flourish. She balled her right hand into a fist and then extended the first two fingers upward, crooking them slightly. “Behold! The shadow hare!”

  The fire cast the image of a crude rabbit on the tree behind her. Magnus gazed at it, confused. He seemed unsure if the shadow puppet was supposed to scare him. Sephi pursed her lips to keep from grinning.

  “Uh oh,” Sephi said, lifting her other hand. She flattened her palm, bent her index finger, and raised her thumb. “Here comes his friend, Mr. Shadow Hound.”

  The rough shape of a dog head joined the rabbit on the tree.