by Ben Hale
A forest grew in the depths of a massive underground cavern. The trunks and branches glowed blue, filling the space with cool light. Glass spheres hung like fruit from the leafless canopies, and tendrils of wood held the orbs in place.
“Spread out and don’t waste time,” Kuraltus said. “Do not forget we have a second assignment.”
“Which you haven't told us,” Jack said.
The master's eyes flicked to him. “You'll find out soon enough.”
Again Jack felt a trickle of foreboding, but did as ordered. Separating from the others, he searched the trees for the one they needed. Each contained a rune on the trunk signifying a date. Evidently they had been intended to grow in order, but as volume had increased space had become a premium, and new trees were no longer placed in sequence.
Jack ambled his way through the silent forest, scanning the trees for the right year. He paused at an eighty-foot behemoth, his gaze drawn to a face in one of the orbs. He vaguely recognized her attire as an oracle's ceremonial garb. Curious, he reached out and activated the orb.
“I am Alydian Elsheeria,” she said, “sole survivor of the Oracle's Council. The year is 4,957 in the third sentenium since the Dawn of Magic. I leave this orb to record how the other oracle bloodlines were killed, and the truth regarding the Age of Oracles . . .”
“We're running out of time,” Kuraltus hissed from several rows over.
Jolted from listening, Jack ended the memory and advanced past the tree to the smaller tree adjacent. The rune on the trunk marked the present year.
“It's here!” he called.
Beauty got to him first. “Which is our target?”
Lorelia joined them and scanned the branches, spotting it first. “There,” she said, pointing to a white orb twenty feet off the ground.
Kuraltus reached into a pouch and withdrew a blank memory orb. Handing it to Jack, he gestured upward.
“I'd hate to see you get killed,” he said.
“I'm sure you would,” Jack replied.
He approached the trunk of the tree, careful not to touch any of the branches. Although the tree appeared benign, it was a powerful treewalker, a sentient tree enchanted to protect the orbs. Its slumber was deep, but prolonged pressure on any one spot would cause it to awaken and crush Jack.
He gathered himself and leapt into the canopy, rebounding his way upward. His hands and feet barely touched before he moved on, threading the gaps to get higher within the tree. Arcing his back, he leapt into a back flip through a pair of larger branches and alighted in a crook of the tree. From there he sprinted outward, balancing on the limb as it bent beneath him.
The wood groaned, the sound resembling a slumbering giant stirring. Then Jack leapt high, catching the correct memory orb with one hand while lodging the empty one in its place. The tendrils of wood instinctively wrapped around the replacement, holding it in their grasp as Jack fell the floor. He landed hard, grunting from the impact before rising to his feet. His triumphant smile faded when the tree groaned, causing them all to turn.
The branches shifted, the roots rising from the ground. Jack sucked in his breath but the tree suddenly relaxed. Like a sleeping man turning in his slumber, the tree roots dug again into the soil, and the branches rustled into silence. For a long moment Jack held his breath until he was certain the tree would not wake.
“No one likes to be woken early,” he said.
Lorelia laughed at his comment, and then Beauty shifted to Kuraltus. “What's our second assignment?”
The master's gaze settled on Jack and Jack felt a surge of fear. The elf knew his secret and was intent on killing him, or worse, leaving him trapped to be executed by the elves. Then the moment passed and Kuraltus gestured to the tree he'd just climbed.
“Can you do that faster?”
“Why?” Jack asked.
In answer Kuraltus turned and strode toward the side of the chamber. Gravel crunched under his boots as he hurried between the trees. Then he came to a stop at a second doorway leading out of the chamber.
“This leads to the Queen's Vault,” he said. “Inside you'll find an ancient map, one even older than the Age of Oracles.”
“What makes this map special?” Beauty asked.
“Because it was created by the ancients.”
Whatever Jack had expected, a reference to the ancients was not it. Rumored to have lived at the Dawn of Magic, the ancients were said to be a race more powerful than any on Lumineia. Their very power had proved their undoing, and they had killed each other in a civil war. It had been over forty thousand years, but many of their structures could still be found scattered throughout the world.
“This isn't for you,” Beauty said shrewdly. “The Guildmaster?'
Kuraltus scowled at that. “It is, and he has been seeking it for some time. Until recently we'd thought it buried in a Verinai stronghold, but then I learned of a map inside the Queen's Vault. One of my contacts managed to confirm it was here.”
Jack recalled the first time he'd met the elf, when he'd been beating an elf because he didn't know where an unnamed item lay hidden. Now he knew what Kuraltus had been searching for, and the one who wanted it.
“What blocks my way?”
“A type of treewalker guards this corridor,” Kuraltus said. “It's called a vintor. Its vines are more flexible, stronger, and faster than tree branches. One touch and they will pull you apart like a scrap of parchment. You have eight minutes to retrieve it before the guards sweep this chamber.”
Jack looked down the corridor and spotted a thick vine poking into view around a curve. Black and streaked with glowing green veins, it twitched and then extended like a man stretching his arms.
“A vintor cannot be subdued,” Beauty said, her voice turning grim. “So one mistake will cost you your life.”
“If he's fast enough he will survive,” Kuraltus said.
“It's just like the Machine,” Lorelia said, her eyes full of anticipation. “Only more lethal.”
Jack looked to Kuraltus, and saw the greed in his features. Whatever his reason in obeying the Guildmaster, his desire to retrieve the map might make him sloppy. Nemeth had his weakness, and now Kuraltus revealed his. The hatred he'd felt on the day of his mother's murder suddenly burned hot in his chest, causing him to smirk.
“See you in eight minutes,” he said, and entered the corridor.
Chapter 32: The Queen’s Vault
Beauty looked like she might try to stop him but Jack strode past her, advancing down the corridor until he reached the curve and the full breadth of the vintor came into view. Vines as thick as his arms clung to the walls for a hundred feet. One shifted and shrank while another stretched, twitching like a sleeping child.
“Watch out for the thorns!” Kuraltus called.
Great.
The thorns were like daggers protruding from the flesh of the vines. The green light from the veins reflected off the blades, causing the edges to gleam in the dim corridor. If he wasn't crushed by the vines he would be shredded by the thorns. A smile crossed his face at the challenge, and he fixed his gaze upon the empty corridor in the distance.
He retreated, giving himself enough room to accelerate. Then he gathered his strength and surged forward, activating his speedstone as he closed the gap. Then he leapt into the deadly maze of vines.
He caught a vine with his hand and swung himself forward, releasing it an instant after touching it. He leaped and twirled through a high gap before catching a vine and swinging himself further. Amidst the labyrinth of vines and thorns speed was his ally, but it was not enough.
The vintor began to stir, sensing the soft touches like a feather caressing its limbs. His momentum slowing, Jack was forced to retain his grip for longer, and the vintor shifted again. Ahead the path began to close, the vines twisting and coiling, searching for the perceived threat. Jack twisted his body through a tightening gap, but two thorns sliced across his knee and shoulder.
He clenched his jaw and
took advantage of an empty section of wall. Then he caught a vine above his head and used its retracting motion to pull himself further. The vintor whipped the vine as it continued to wake, and three others reached for him.
He released and ducked, rolling beneath one before leaping over the others. The thorns scrapped across the hardened flesh of the vines like steel on a shield, the sound echoing angry in his ears.
Ten feet from the end, Jack bent his body to the side and threw himself into a twisting flip. The vines snipped on his cloak, rending it in two as he landed on the opposite side. A thorn dug into his elbow as he rolled to his feet. He slid behind another vine before kicking off the wall and leaping for safety.
He slid to a stop, panting as he looked back at the vintor. Its vines coiled and searched but it found nothing. Relief flooded him and he strode away, turning the corner to enter the Queen's Vault.
Domed and open, the curved walls contained massive white and blue runes depicting past queens. The symbols filled the chamber with a dim light that brightened as if sensing Jack’s presence.
Thousands of pedestals lined the floor in neat rows, each holding an item inside a sphere of water. Jack began to advance between them, his boots sending a solemn echo through the chamber.
A glittering sword sat beside a memory orb, while beside them a painting of an elven woman was framed in fire. Beyond it a single thread of gold floated in its protective sphere, while another held a spiked ball of flames.
Weapons of every type hung suspended within the vault, but memory orbs and other items dominated the vault's contents. Some were as small as a single needle, while others were so large they took four pedestals to support, like a broken silver scale that looked like it came from a dragon. One even appeared empty—until he saw a bubble appear and float to the top of the water shield. Seeds were also in abundance, with an entire corner of the vault dedicated to the tiny items.
He paused as a square item caught his eye and he turned toward it. Near the front of the chamber a section of the pedestals contained an assortment of maps. Most were leather, their edges cracked and the material faded with time. A few were parchment, their surfaces deteriorated until they were all but illegible.
One represented a stark contrast to the others. Rigid and smooth, the white material resembled stone, but the symbols on the surface were unlike any he'd seen. A handful of words had been etched into the sides of the map with some in languages he did not recognize. Clearly added after the map had been created, they provided names and instructions. He tilted his head to the side to read one.
Press center rune to activate the map's enchantment.
Curious, he withdrew his set of lockpicks and went to work. Although the sphere of water contained curses to harm a thief, the main intention was clearly to protect the object. Jack found a trio of key holes in the base and eased his picks into each. In the dead silence of the room, the faint click whispered in his ears, causing him to smile. A minute after starting, he turned all three. The water withdrew from the map, gradually lowering to leave the map resting dry on the pedestal.
He reached out and touched the star symbol at the center of the map and it glowed to life. Light poured from the map and swelled upward. Jack was forced to retreat as the light grew to ten feet, and then twenty. It curved upward and shaped into a giant sphere.
Depressions and rises on the surface turned into lakes, mountains, and rivers. He recognized the great continent that contained the five kingdoms, with the massive Blue Lake at the center. The detail was sufficient for him to make out each of the Azure islands at the center of the lake.
Islands great and small filled the oceans around the globe, while a second continent sat on the opposite side. Then settlements began to appear, with one in the north, south, east, and west, and one in the center of Blue Lake. None were locations known to him, nor were the smaller settlements that followed.
Confused, he walked around the map, searching for anything that would prove familiar. Last to appear, a series of runic letters appeared next to the settlements, most likely identifying them in the script of the ancients. Then he spotted three cities he recognized.
The first was located in the dwarven mountains, while a second lay in what used to be the elven forest of Orláknia. The last stood in the northeast at what would have been the northern part of Griffin. All represented the oldest cities of Lumineia, and dated back to before the Age of Oracles.
The map was old enough that little would be relevant in today’s world, so why did the Guildmaster want it? The map would be useless to find anything created in the last forty thousand years unless . . .
He wants something older.
The idea came with a burst of certainty, and then a flicker of doubt. Should he give it to the Guildmaster? It was his assignment, and failure to deliver it would invite the man’s ire. But if Jack failed, the Guildmaster would keep trying. Now that he knew the map's location the Guildmaster would not rest until he had it.
Making his decision, he stepped into the sphere of light and advanced to the pedestal. He pressed the rune to deactivate it and the light flowed back into the map. Then he grabbed the map and withdrew.
Now feeling the press of time, he hurried through the forest of pedestals to the corridor that would take him back to the Hall of Records. Reaching the vintor, he strapped the map to his chest and prepared himself for a second attempt.
The vintor moved and shifted. Although not fully awake, it was restless from Jack's previous passage. Jack's current attempt was certain to wake it. He cast about for a solution and ran through his inventory of tools. Then he had an idea and a smile crossed his face.
Surging forward, he leapt into the maze of vines. His first touch brought the vintor to life. He twisted and leapt, dodging the vines that reached for him. His touch was no more than a caress, but it was enough for the vintor to start looking. As the vines began to close about him Jack activated his crossbow and aimed into his wake.
He leapt into a slow flip over a gnarled vine, and while upside down he fired an explosive bolt toward the Queen’s Vault. The bolt struck a vine and detonated, sending blistering fire and smoke across the vines.
The vine recoiled—and then struck. Ahead of Jack a section of vines converged into a face. It ground the thorns together like teeth as it charged Jack. He caught a vine and hurled himself over the vintor’s skull. Instead of turning, the head charged down the corridor towards the fires. The vines writhed and pulsed, pummeling the corridor where Jack had been.
By the time the vintor realized he was not there, Jack was nearly through. The skull turned, baring its thorned teeth before surging after Jack. Vines snapped and whipped, tearing into Jack's clothing as he slipped between them. The motions became desperate as Jack approached the exit, the skull reaching for him, its mouth opening wide, the thorns extending toward him.
He fired another explosive bolt at the vintor’s face but it came through smoking. For the first time the vintor emitted a sound, a screech of scraping thorns. Then it snapped its jaws shut, missing Jack by inches.
Jack used the lingering smoke to shift directions, dodging to the side as the skull reached him. He swung behind a vine and leapt the remaining distance. Landing in the empty corridor he hit the ground and kept running, leaving the enraged vintor behind.
He withdrew the map and strode toward the other thieves with a smirk on his face. Relief washed over Beauty's face, while Lorelia flashed an eager smile. His eyes bright with greed, Kuraltus advanced forward, extending his hand to take the map.
As Jack lifted it, his gaze slid across the surface, and one of the inscriptions caught his eye. He went rigid and yanked it close. Shock bound his tongue as he read the words, struggling to comprehend them.
If Kuraltus delivers this map to Orn the ancients will return, and Lumineia will cease to exist.
He touched the script, numb at the familiarity to the lettering. Every curve, every loop of the words marked the one who had written it.
He'd seen it hundreds of times in his home, on the parchments used to teach him to read and write. Then his gaze dropped to the name beneath it.
Morissa.
Chapter 33: Identity
“Give me the map, Jack,”
The words snapped Jack from his shock, and his gaze lifted to see Kuraltus staring at him. His hand was still extended, a flicker of anger in his eyes.
“What does this have to do with Morissa?” Jack asked.
Kuraltus blinked in surprise, and then his lips curled into a sneer. “She was the first sent to retrieve the map. Instead she fled like a dog cowering from its masters.”
Jack caught the elf's throat and slammed him into the wall. “Talk like that again and I’ll cut your tongue out.”
“Jack!” Lorelia said, “What are you doing?”
She took a step forward but Beauty moved in front of her, a dagger in her hand. “Don't.”
The confusion on Lorelia’s face was matched by that of Kuraltus, who struggled to breathe as he stared at Jack.
“What do you care for a disgraced thief?”
“She was my mother,” he spat the words at him.
Shock flitted across the elf’s face and he twisted, drawing a knife. Jack dropped the map and caught his wrist, slamming it into the wall hard enough to break bones. The knife tumbled to the floor as the elf cried out, the sound strangled and grating. The elf was gifted in combat, but rage thundered in Jack's veins, allowing him to hold the elf fast.
“What does this have to do with her death?” Jack growled.
Kuraltus quailed in the face of Jack's wrath. “She was sent to steal the map but never returned.”
“Why?” Jack demanded. “Why didn't she give it to him?”
The elf struggled to speak and Jack threw him to the floor. Coughing, Kuraltus cradled his broken hand as he forced himself to his feet.
“No one knew,” he said, his voice raspy. “She left on assignment and just disappeared. We assumed she’d been killed.”