by Sever Bronny
“Careful, Lee—” Bridget said.
Leera reappeared. “It’s okay, the passage travels right. It goes along the wall and behind Mrs. Stone’s room.”
Augum rubbed his hands together. Suddenly his bones did not ache so much. “Shall we explore?”
“But it’s so late,” Bridget said, “and haven’t we done enough for today? Besides, what if Mrs. Stone hears us, or we can’t get back?”
“Aww, come on, Bridge, where’s your sense of adventure?” Leera asked. “We can leave the door open and we’ll be very quiet, okay?”
Bridget gave Augum a pleading look.
He shrugged. “I say let’s go.”
She sighed and surrendered with a nod.
They lit their palms and crawled in one at a time, Leera first followed by Augum and Bridget. The passage was only slightly larger than the door, making it difficult to maneuver or turn around. It was roughly hewn, damp, cold and dirty, reminding him of the cellar.
Leera suddenly stopped and put a glowing finger to her lips. She extinguished her light, bidding them to do the same. Once they did so, Augum saw why—there was a very thin crack of light on the right-hand wall.
“Listen,” she whispered, pressing her ear against it. Augum and Bridget followed suit.
“… amongst us,” Mrs. Stone said.
“Impossible, Mrs. Stone, I picked the men myself,” Sir Gallows said.
“Then perhaps one of the servants. There are means of discovery, though they take time.”
“Put to the arcane question? It would be a great affront—”
“The stakes are too high, Eldric. It is possible he waits for us now.”
Gallows’ boots thudded as he began pacing. “What of my stranded brethren?”
“Discovered and slaughtered arcanely,” Mrs. Stone said.
The pacing stopped. “I trained them myself, Mrs. Stone. They were good and loyal men. And what of their families?”
“I cannot say. The herald reports little.”
He resumed pacing. “I suppose it was your grandson’s work?”
“Lividius’ underlings—Vion Rames, Rotus Magnavilius, Corrigus, perhaps others. I fear your men stood little chance.”
“Corrigus is with Sparkstone? That man is a monster.” A pause. “How much time do we have?”
“Very little, I suspect.”
“Do you think he knows about the portal?”
“Perhaps.”
“If he does, he would besiege the castle until we starved …”
“He may gain entry regardless, Eldric, using the scion—”
The pacing stopped again. There was a pause in which Augum imagined the two of them exchanging a dark look.
“In that event,” Mrs. Stone continued, “we will have no choice but to use the portal.”
“Would it even work?”
“I am not sure, it is 1500 years old.”
“But he can follow us—”
“I do not believe so.”
“But—”
“Enough, Eldric. Now take me to these beasts. I shall examine them myself.”
There was a sigh. “Yes, Mrs. Stone.”
“What portal do you suppose they’re talking about?” Leera asked after Mrs. Stone and Sir Gallows left the room.
Augum thought about it. “They might mean one of the gates in the cellar.”
“Maybe,” Bridget said. “Anyway, I think Mrs. Stone was saying we have a traitor amongst us.”
Leera scoffed. “Probably the prince.”
“I don’t think so. Remember that Sparkstone killed his father.”
“Maybe one of the servants then?”
“Or the Nightsword,” Augum added.
They fell silent for a moment.
“Let’s keep going,” Leera said.
They lit up their palms and crawled onward, passing by yet another secret door, this one to Augum’s room. Finally, Leera came to the end of the passage.
“There’s something underneath here,” she whispered.
Augum squeezed his head by her shoulder and spotted a wooden trap door with an iron ring. She groaned lifting it, and leaned it up against the far wall, revealing a square black hole. A rusty iron ladder led the way down.
“Where do you suppose this goes?” Leera asked, a daring expression on her face.
Bridget glanced behind her. “I don’t know about this, maybe we should go back …”
Leera stretched her lit palm into the darkness. “It’s a small room. Ceiling’s only about four feet high.” She climbed down.
“Don’t worry, Bridge,” Augum said, grabbing the ladder. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
The room had roughly hewn stone walls and a floor covered by a thick blanket of dust.
Leera slouched in the center. “Ugh … there’s nothing here!”
“It’s too odd not to have anything,” he said. “Let’s look closer.” He began groping the walls. Sure enough, he stumbled across a neatly etched oval and minaret. “Found some sort of symbol here!”
“Me too,” Bridget said.
“Found one here as well!” Leera echoed.
After a bit more searching, they discovered one more. In all, there were four ovals etched into the wall, each with a different symbol next to it—a square with bars, a fountain, a tree with a small crescent moon beside it, and the minaret Augum had found.
Leera suddenly took a step back. “These must be portals …!”
They glanced at each other.
“Then it must be some kind of emergency escape room,” Bridget said. She pointed at the minaret. “This one here must go to the top of the castle.” Then she pointed at the symbol with the fountain. “This one must go to the fountain room.” She stepped over to the tree with the crescent moon. “This one here must go outside somewhere. And this one …” She tapped the box with bars. “Hmm, not sure where this one goes—”
“—the cellar,” Augum said. “I mean, it only makes sense, doesn’t it? You have the top of the castle, the fountain room, somewhere outside … and the cellar.”
Leera raised her hands to get their attention. “Wait, these must be the portals Mrs. Stone and Sir Gallows were talking about!”
“But didn’t they say ‘portal’ not ‘portals’?” Bridget asked.
“Maybe, but doesn’t it make sense? Mrs. Stone said that should they get in, ‘we will have no choice but to use the portal.’”
Augum shrugged. “It does kind of make sense, Bridge.”
Bridget sighed. “All right, if it is some sort of emergency escape room, it’d make sense that it could only be activated by residents of the castle. Therefore …”
“‘Therefore’—?” Leera mouthed to Augum.
Bridget paced back and forth, lit hand turning in the air as if debating points with herself. She stopped midstride. “The activation word has to be on the servant plaque.”
“Wouldn’t that be too obvious?” he asked.
“Of course, but they’re emergency portals—they’re probably all over the castle! I bet it was common knowledge what the word was; and if you entered a portal, whoever’s looking for you would have to correctly guess which one you’d taken and know the activation word. By the time they figured it out, you’d be long gone.”
Leera nodded but gave Augum a sidelong look that communicated she was lost. He had to think about it himself, but Bridget’s reasoning seemed sound.
“Guess there’s only one way to find out for sure, isn’t there?” he said.
A daring grin spread across Bridget’s face. She no longer looked tired.
“All right, stop the gawking and start the walking!” Leera said in a sing-song voice, jumping onto the ladder.
The trio made their way back through the tunnel, stopping by Mrs. Stone’s room to listen. It was silent.
“Wait—” Augum whispered. “Go back, let’s go through my room.”
“Why?” Leera asked, face bathed in the watery-blue light of her palm.
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“Fentwick.” Fentwick could be a bit loud at times.
She thought about it and nodded. The trio backtracked and carefully opened the secret door to his room. They piled in and quietly closed it behind them. Then he cracked open the door to the corridor, saw that there was no one in the hall, and motioned the girls to follow. Raucous laughter drifted in from the dining room—the knights were still going strong.
The trio crept down the stairs and managed to make it all the way to the foyer when the outer castle doors opened. They scampered through the nearest door just in time to hear voices. Augum realized they stood in the newly repaired servant hall, now glowing with candlelight, and should anyone step out of their room or wander through, they would have no time to hide.
“… that we cannot be sure of, but hellhounds have masters and they are usually nearby,” Mrs. Stone’s voice echoed.
“This is most grave,” Gallows said. “Would they not have attacked us by now?”
“Perhaps they wait upon something.”
“Or someone … I’ll warn the others to be on their guard.”
Their footsteps died as they ascended the stairs.
The trio exchanged dark looks.
“We should get back,” Bridget whispered.
“We won’t be gone long,” Leera said. “It’s only the servant plaque.”
“All right, I guess …”
“What are hellhounds?” Augum asked.
The girls shook their heads—they did not know.
“Let’s hurry then and hope they don’t check on us,” Bridget said.
They tiptoed past the servant rooms, reaching the far door to the kitchen. It was slightly ajar. The smell of roast chicken wafted from the other side, along with sounds of humming and pot scraping. Augum peeked through the crack and spotted the fiery maw of an oven, hissing away with a meal. Nearby stood the blonde servant girl Rafinda, scrubbing pots in a large washbasin over the trestle table. The stairs down to the cellar were just beyond the door and to the right. There was no way to sneak by without Rafinda noticing.
They needed a distraction.
Augum placed a finger to his lips then gestured an idea he had as best he could. Bridget and Leera nodded their readiness. He raised his arm and focused on a pot balanced on the edge of the table. It was a bit of a distance away, but he managed to give it the tiny arcane push it needed—it teetered then fell to the floor with a mighty clang. Rafinda jumped, mumbled something sharp, and marched over to where the pot lay. As soon as she turned her back, he signaled for the girls to go.
Leera scurried first, followed by Bridget and Augum. Just as he tiptoed through the doorway, Rafinda slammed the pot back onto the table. Not daring to look, he sped down the steps, joining the girls in holding his breath at the bottom. When the sound of humming and pot scraping resumed, they breathed a sigh of relief, lit their palms, and made their way to the servants’ diagram.
Augum wondered if the girls would be willing to search for the secret passage now that they were down here—or would that be asking too much?
“All right, watch for an oval,” Bridget said.
They scanned the diagram until Leera tapped at a spot near the middle. “Think I found it—”
They crowded for a closer look. Sure enough, there was a small oval worked into the bronze. Beside it was a symbol that looked like a shiny palm with the word “Liberai” next to it.
“That must be the activation word,” Bridget said. “I’m guessing that you have to use the Shine spell, lay your palm over the symbol, and say the word.”
Leera gave her a funny look. “Brilliant deduction, Bridge; a blind and daft washerwoman could have figured that out.”
Bridget gave her an exasperated look and dug into her robe. “Anyway, since we’re here already …” and she unfolded the repaired map.
“Just what I was thinking,” Augum said. “This might be our only chance to explore it, now that the prince knows.”
Leera smirked. “No thanks to you, Loose Lips …”
“Hey now, no one else had a better idea on how to save Mya. Besides—” he made a grand gesture, “—just imagine a room full of treasure.”
Leera scoffed but could not help grinning.
“So let’s see here,” Bridget said, perusing the map. “It should be inside this room.” She led the way to the entrance of the southeast room and opened the heavy door. It screeched; the trio cringed, waiting for footsteps. When none came, they slipped inside and carefully closed the door, inspecting with lit palms.
Rows and rows of shelves stood floor to ceiling, each pierced with holes. Enormous barrel-like casks sat on the floor of the east wall, stained with dark splotches. Corks and pieces of broken glass were everywhere. The place appeared thoroughly plundered—not a single bottle remained intact. The casks all seemed drained as well, some with large puncture wounds.
“Wine cellar,” Augum said, remembering Sir Westwood describing a particularly fine one he saw in some distant castle.
Leera pinched her nose. “Ugh, smells like ancient mold. So what are we looking for, anyway?”
Bridget glanced at the map. “Looks like the entrance to the tunnel should be behind the last cask, in the corner there.”
Glass crunched underfoot as they walked. The light from their palms made thousands of eyes out of the shelf holes, swaying to the rhythm of their hands. Nobody spoke, though everyone constantly checked over their shoulders. Augum half expected to come across the remains of a bandit, grotesquely stuffed under a cask.
“Think it’s this one,” Bridget said, referencing a particularly damaged cask with the map. The metal banding lay loose and bent and there were two gaping holes in the front.
Examining it, Augum noticed there was a very narrow space between the cask and the wall. “Maybe we can get behind it—”
“—or move it,” Leera said. “Telekinesis?”
“Good idea. Why don’t you keep your palm lit while Bridge and I give it a try.”
Leera nodded as Augum and Bridget stepped back and raised their arms. After a moment of concentration, the cask groaned but refused to budge.
“Must be stuck,” he said, panting. “Hold on—” He detached Burden’s Edge from his waist and climbed on top of the cask, lit his palm, and searched behind it. “That’s why …”
“What do you see, Aug?” Bridget asked.
“There’s a chain keeping it fixed to the wall. I’ll need to break the link. Can you hand me Blackbite?”
“All right, but just please be careful.” Bridget handed him the ornate dagger.
“Now if I can just reach it …” After a bit of trial and error, he was able to wedge the dagger between the link and the wall, then leveraged his weight onto it.
“Don’t break my dagger!”
Augum grunted from the strain when the iron link suddenly split. He barely managed to avoid falling and wedging himself in.
“That should do it. All right, let’s try it again.” He dismounted and re-secured Burden’s Edge to his waist.
Bridget snatched Blackbite back and examined it. “Look at that, not even a scratch.”
“Dreadnought steel …” Leera said.
On their second attempt, the cask screeched forward just a tad.
“Leera, we’ll need your help here,” Bridget said, wheezing. “Thing’s heavier than an anvil.”
“Too bad none of us know how to chronocast,” Leera said, extinguishing her palm and bathing them in darkness.
“On three now,” Bridget said. “One, two, three—!”
The cask shrieked and rumbled, the weight of it enormous—the single toughest test of their skill thus far. It was impossible to judge how far it moved in the dark; it could very well run them over. From the terrible noise, Augum expected everyone in the castle to come down and investigate—and then lost his concentration worrying about it. The trio immediately collapsed from the effort, gasping for breath as if they had been sprinting.
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gum’s head throbbed and his stomach gurgled with nausea.
“Poor Rafinda,” Leera said between huffs, snorting a laugh. “Probably thinks the place is haunted.”
They rested in the cool darkness, listening, hoping beyond hope that nobody heard them.
“Shyneo,” Bridget said at last. Her face glistened with sweat as she surveyed their work. “We did it …”
“Now let’s see what’s back there,” Augum said. “Shyneo.” He shimmied to the rear of the cask and examined the wall closely. “Don’t see anything …”
Leera climbed along the top of it. “Here, let me try Unconceal. I need the practice.”
He moved aside. She jumped down, kneeled, and closed her eyes. After three deep breaths, she raised her arm and opened her palm.
“Un vun deo.” Her hand stayed motionless for a while before she moved it around in circles, letting it guide her higher and higher until she found a camouflaged lever and pulled. A small portion of the wall swung inwards, expelling a plume of dust and cold air. Grinning, she made a grand gesture that said after you, sir.
Augum gave her a bemused look, dropped to his knees, and crawled into the tunnel. The passage was cold and stony at first but grew earthier as he went along.
“Nice job, Lee,” he heard Bridget say as she dropped to her knees to follow.
After what seemed like a very long distance, the tunnel ended in a rocky door. On the right-hand side was a wooden lever. He waited until the girls caught up before giving it a pull. The door opened outward with a grinding rumble. Air swooped into the tunnel, inducing shivers.
He trundled onward, one hand on Burden’s Edge, into an ancient country house with half its ceiling missing. Moonlight flooded a dirty stone floor mottled with patches of snow. The walls were mostly ruin covered with thick ropes of frozen vine.
So much for a treasure room …
Bridget emerged. “Where are we?” she whispered, dusting her robe.
“I think it’s an abandoned house outside of the castle.” He wondered why it was so quiet. Sir Westwood had always cautioned to be wary of a quiet forest.
Leera stumbled out from the tunnel, clapping dirt from her robe. “Ugh, that was no fun—” When she spotted where they were, her face fell as if she had been robbed of a great prize.