The Crystal College

by Nathaniel Sullivan

  Yes. Many tasty treats, she promised. After you tell me about the keys.

  What do you want to know?

  Who gave you the keys? Do you know which one will open the door and which one will spring the trap?

  TRAP? It screeched as it envisioned what she did. Fire pouring from pipes roasting whoever tried to open the door. Yes! Spring the trap! That is what my human’s desire! But it not fire! More smelly! I was told to give you one key, than another key. So I give you the keys! This makes the humans very happy and give me even more food! When they talk I hear them say: “One is bad, and the other is bad! If Nandor has made it this far, he will only have half a chance to make it further! And then the other half will spring on the other side! Both spring different traps, but the same end!”

  She contemplated its thoughts through a mental frown. So both keys are bad?

  HA! Both are good! Good at making people go sleep-sleep to the land of never-wake-up!

  Is there another key?

  Stupid, stupid! Of course there is another key! How do you think Sagger plans to see if his traps worked? He has shiny key with him that no make him go sleep-sleep!

  But is there another key HERE?

  Oh. No. Well… No. No more key. One key and two key—that is all I was asked to give.

  Is there any other way to get around the door?

  Stupid, stupid! How do you think I got here? The monkey showed her a memory of it climbing down the tower and through the window-hatch.

  Unfortunately I do not think Nandor and I can climb the tower.

  Ha! What I say? You slow, fat, clumsy. Much better to be monkey than to be large hairless monkey. I am better than you!

  Better at arrogance, certainly, she allowed, struggling to get ahold of her own thoughts. So both keys spring different traps? What do they do? What is the difference?

  One make trap spring first, the other make trap spring second!

  Is there any way to protect against it?

  HA! Not for slow fat hairless monkey! They test trap! I watch! It go POOOOOOPH! It showed her a vision of pouring green gas. Fill the whole room fast! If you no climb tower like monkey can, it make you go sleep-sleep!

  I see. She pondered the new information. Perhaps there was a way to avoid it… if…

  The monkey interrupted her thoughts with a shrieking bark. Now you give me tasty food?

  I… did she have any more questions for the monkey? I will leave, she said, and swiftly departed from the creatures mind. It allowed her to go without struggle, envisioning the tasty treats it would receive when they were both back in their own bodies.

  ***

  From Nandor’s perspective, it all happened within the space of a second. One minute the girl had gone under, her eyes glowing with mystic power. The next, she jumped to her feet, yelling at the top of her lungs like a madwoman.

  “AHHH! Go poof! Go green poof! Lots of many poofs! From pipes! Keys bad!” she yelled, jumping up and down.

  “Heavens!” Dorin stepped away, releasing the monkey. “You were right to be concerned! She’s gone mad!”

  Nandor rushed over and grabbed Nixie by the shoulders. “She’s not mad, she’s just confused. It happened when she entered Goldie too. For several minutes she shared the dog’s mindset—she’ll recover soon,” he said, reassuring Dorin as much as himself.

  The girl’s eyes jumped around frantically, from Nandor’s face to the door and the pipes. “Green poof? Stupid fat man? You understand? Lots of green gas poof! From pipes! Keys bad!”

  He held her back as she tried to struggle. “Calm, Nix. Calm. I think I understand what you mean—just focus on calming your mind right now. That’s the most important thing. You hear me, girl?” He forced her head to face him, “Calm down and remember who you are. Speak slowly. Can you do that for me?”

  After a moment, she slowed her breathing and nodded. “Y-yes, large fat hairless monkey. I can do that.”

  Amused, he smiled, “My name is Nandor. Not large fat hairless monkey. Remember?”

  “Is that not what I say? N-n-nandor?”

  “That’s a start,” he nodded. She was coming back, and faster than she had with Goldie. He shuffled the rek-root back into his pack, content that her recovery would be swift. “You are still thinking with half of the monkey’s thoughts.” He pointed at Dorin, “Can you tell me his name?”

  She raised an eyebrow, “You mean the strange shiny clunker who go tick-tick and hiss-hiss with smelly cloudy snorts?”

  “More or less accurate,” he grinned.

  Dorin was insulted. “Clunker? I’m a Jack-Bot! Much more elegant!”

  “J-jack-bot?” Nix repeated as if she spoke the word for the first time. She tilted her head. “Yes, I remember. Dorin is your name. We rescued you from a foul woman.”

  “Good,” Nandor petted her head, “It’s coming back.” He pulled her closer to listen to her heart. Gradually, it was stabilizing, beating slower and slower. After he felt she was sufficiently calmed, he spoke softly, “Now, do you think you can tell us what you saw in the monkey’s head?”

  “Yes,” she nodded upwards. “Monkey say many things. He talk. Like person, but more jumpy. Not like dog,” she shook her head. “I did not see many memories, but he tell me what he saw. He said that both keys set off traps, but different traps. One make trap go first, the other make trap go second, is what he say. Both release a cloud of smelly gas that make you go sleep-sleep to the land of never-wake-up.”

  “Smelly gas?”

  “You mean it kills?”

  “Is that not what I say? Yes. Sleep-sleep. Or die—something like that.”

  Nandor and Dorin exchanged a glance. “Toxic gas. Odd choice, but it makes sense. They have heard of my powers as an elementalist, so they might know that the fire couldn’t kill me. Hot steam would be worthless too. Toxic gas on the other hand? That’s not something I can channel. Even if I could, I would still have to hold my breath.”

  “But what kind of toxic gas do you suppose it is, sir?”

  He shrugged, “I am not familiar with poison. I know that some men have the knowledge to distil certain plants into powders, and poison drinks, and I know that others can take the same powder and pile it into a breathable packet that would create toxic fumes if steam was shot threw it—perhaps that is what we face?” He stood from Nix, and tilted his head, gazing at Dorin. “You don’t require air to breathe, do you?”

  “Well, no, not in the way that people do. My core does require an oxygen-rich environment to run properly, but strictly speaking, I don’t have to breathe. As far as I know, toxic fumes and poisons should not harm me.”

  “Nix? How much gas comes from the pipes? Did the monkey show you? Is it enough gas to fill the room?”

  She nodded, “Lots of gas! When they test it they had to stand all the way back on the upper stairs! It filled the room and poured all the way down half of the staircase!”

  “Then we will have to hide down below on the second floor.” He looked to Dorin. “Are you willing to spring the trap? I know there is a risk involved, but it seems that you stand the best chance of surviving the poison gas.”

  The bot did not hesitate, “Yes. I will trigger the trap, and more so, I will stay to let you know when it is clear again.”

  “Then open the window, Nix.” He pointed, and moved to examine the trap once more. Dorin followed. “There are four pipes—I imagine they will all pour poison. Nix said that both keys spring the trap, but one will spring the trap first and the other will spring it later—if I am interpreting this correctly, then that means there are four more pipes on the other side of the door. One key will cause the pipes to pour poison from the first set, the other from the second set. Either way it will fill the room and stairways, killing anyone around.”

  “Anyone organic, you mean,” Dorin said.

  “Yes. With any luck you will be entirely unharmed.” He handed the bot both keys. “Use either—I don’t think it matters. Give Nix and I several seconds t
o run down the stairs before you twist the door open. Clear?”

  “Crystal clear sir,” it nodded. “But we will need that window open if we don’t want to risk the entire lower tower filling with toxins.” He pointed to where it was still latched.

  “Nix? Why isn’t the window open?” He turned, and saw her standing in the middle of the room. The monkey was staring back at her—its teeth were bared. They were sharp, long, and yellowed to a nasty rot. “What’s wrong?”

  “I-I may have promised the monkey treats,” she said, and took a step away. The monkey matched her movement, and crouched lower, ready to pounce.

  “What do you mean you promised it treats?”

  “To get in its head! I had to negotiate with it. I said I would give it something sweet, if it told me everything it knew.”

  “It looks like it want’s what it was promised,” Dorin smiled.

  “But I don’t have any food!”

  The monkey hissed, and jumped forward the moment the words had left her mouth. It landed on her shoulder, and she shrieked and cried, flailing her arms as she tried to get it off—but the creature was relentless. “Get it off! Get it off!” she screamed.

  Nandor rushed to her side, but by the time he was there, it was too late. The monkey had pulled off her shiny blue bow, and then jumped to the window. It unhatched it with a swipe of its tail, and then scaled upwards along the outside of the tower.

  Nandor laughed, “That’ll show you for trying to fool a monkey!”

  “He could have bitten me!” Nix said, angered at his amusement.

  “Then be grateful he didn’t,” Nandor suggested. He looked to Dorin. “You ready?”

  The bot nodded, “If you organic creatures are quite done fooling around, yes.”

  He gazed at Nix through softer eyes. “Forgive my laughter. Are you okay?”

  “Yes. But he took my bow,” she pouted as she tried to rearrange her outfit back together.

  Despite his efforts, a grin formed again. “I suppose that makes the monkey a student of the crystal college now, doesn’t it?”

  “Better him than me,” Nix sighed, brushing back her hair. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  The window was open, Dorin was standing beside the locked door, and everything was in position. “Give us a minute before you spring the trap,” Nandor instructed, and then rushed down the stairs, holding Nix’s hand to be sure she stayed close. “Good luck!” he called over his shoulder.

  “As if I need it!” the bot shouted back.

  Chapter 24: Elemental Storm

  I watched his duel today. The young man Nandor, who came to us both proud and poor. He wasn’t elegant in his fight, nor particularly swift or skilled—but there was a power to his simplistic techniques. He swings his club with great strength, and he ignores any blows from his foe, as if in those brief moments of the fight he somehow becomes impervious to pain. But it is his will that helps him the most—not his skill, nor even his strength. I’ve watched him fight many times. Even when it is obvious that he will lose, he never gives up. He fights until he can no longer stand, with no regard for his own personal safety or well-being.

  It is that same strength of will that makes him hated at the college. He causes too many waves. Says things where he would be wiser to listen instead.

  In many ways, he reminds me of myself, so many years ago.

  Stubborn and willful to the point of persecution, so certain that he is right in his beliefs and that society is the one in the wrong. He thinks himself the only sane man in an insane world, and perhaps he is right. I know I was. This world we live in gets so much wrong that the enlightened are called fools and the foolish are put on thrones—it is a hard lesson to learn. It took me a great many years to understand how to play the game and utilize it to my advantage.

  But it is interesting for me to watch the pattern unfold once more. There are certainly things I could do to make his life easier, but I am inclined to let him unfold as nature intended instead.

  These trials the college inflicts upon him will either harden him into a powerful man as they did for me, or they will kill him.

  Either way, the college shall grow, and my plans shall remain unchanged.

  —The Journal of Grandmaster Forojen Dorgenja

  Nix and Nandor waited in silence on the lower floor. The bot had not given the signal that it was safe to enter yet. The waiting was worse than anything else.

  Is Dorin alive? Did the poison somehow corrupt its core?

  Nandor glanced at Nix. “You don’t think the monkey lied, do you?”

  Her eyes widened, “If I’m being honest, I wasn’t entirely in control when I entered the monkey’s mind. We struggled and argued. It could speak Nandor—understand? It was like talking with an arrogant child. While it certainly may be able to lie, I think if it tried to lie it would be too clumsy to work. Think of a toddler covered in chocolate saying that it didn’t eat the candy—that is rather how I think it would lie. So I believe he was being truthful, but I can’t say for sure.”

  Several more minutes passed. Then, they heard a robotic voice shout down through the stairs. “I think it’s safe now! Might want to cover your mouths to be sure!”

  Nandor breathed a sigh of relief, and brought his arm up. The wolf-fur tickled his nose, but he instructed Nix to do the same. “It might be best to hold your breath if you can. If you can’t, and you find breathing gets difficult, retreat back to the second level.”

  She nodded, and then they hurried upwards. The third floor was empty, just as they had left it, but the door was swung open, and there was the trace smell of something odd lingering in the air. Dorin stood by the doorway, fanning out the remaining poison with his arms.

  “Everything go as expected?”

  “Like a charm, sir! I used one key, than the other to be sure that both traps were triggered. A mammoth amount of green gas poured from the pipes, but it didn’t so much as tickle my gears. I’ve inspected the path ahead and it looks clear as well. I think this was their last trap.”

  “About time,” Nix huffed.

  “The hard part is still ahead,” Nandor warned. “These traps were meant to wound or kill us before we arrived—luckily we managed to avoid the worst, but we still have Sagger and Lareja to face in combat, and for all we know they could have another trick up their sleeves.”

  The three huddled together and climbed the last staircase. It went up for a long, long time. Nandor halted every now and then to reassess and check for anything odd, but the narrow stairway was clear. They whispered quietly back and forth as they went, trying to assess what might await them at the top.

  “What do you know of Headmaster Sagger? What are his strengths? Weaknesses?”

  Nix couldn’t say for sure. “He’s never liked me, and I haven’t had any classes directly under him. From what I’ve seen, he isn’t a fighter, but as you’ve both witnessed he can be clever, cruel, and he knows how to get what he wants. And unlike some of the other headmasters who were appointed more for political reasons, he is actually skilled in his craft. He is both a very powerful mystic, and at least somewhat talented in the other realms of magic. Rumor has it he knows how to use conductors, and is a skilled elemental duelist. I don’t think he knows how to spell-weave enchantments, so the rug and the mirror were definitely Lareja’s work. Other than that, it could be anything. I’ve never seen him swing a sword, but that’s because he never allows a situation to degrade that bad. He plays one step ahead—if he has a challenger, the challenger will almost always mysteriously die before the duel comes into play.”

  “Thus the traps,” Nandor nodded, “So he fights like a spider. He sets his web, poisons, and then waits for his victim to wear itself out.” He gritted his teeth as he considered it.

  “What do you think?” Dorin asked.

  After a moment, he whispered, “If our analogy holds any water, then Sagger will still have at least one failsafe to prevent us from attacking. A spider can retreat swiftly, and bite often
. He’s already tried to trap us in his web beneath the tower, but that failed. We still have his fangs to face, and we must be ready to corner and squash him before he can flee.”

  At his side, Dorin’s saw hummed steadily. “I think we can do that, sir,” it grinned.

  Nandor kept his sword in a two handed grip as they approached the top. Another door stood in their path—the door that lead to the last level. It was large, and wooden. There were no pipes around it, and it sounded dead quiet on the other side.

  “Is it locked?” Dorin whispered.

  “Perhaps. Either way, I don’t fancy fiddling with the doorknob as we make our attackers become aware of our presence.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m going to need you to do me a favor, Nix.”

  She nudged closer, “What is it?”

  “I’m going to need you to power the stun-stick as high as it will go, and then shock my hand.”

  She gave him a blank stare. “Are you mad?”

  “No. This is something I’ve done before. It’s another form of elemental magic. Just as I can channel fire from a fireplace into my body and project it outwards, I can do the same with electricity.”

  Dorin’s grin grew, but Nix remained dubious. “But what’s the point in that? How will you channel the electricity?”

  “I’m going to open the door,” he shared Dorin’s ravenous grin, “Explosively.”

  “That will be a good entrance,” The bot hummed its approval.

  Nix shook her head, “But what if I hurt you instead?”

  “Don’t dwell on the negative,” he instructed. “I’ll be fine. Power the stick on full, and let me do the rest. If everything goes as planned, it will erupt fast. Stay out of my way, and run if you have to. Dorin, your saw ready?”

  “Sharpened and well-oiled, sir,” it replied.

  “Nix?” He nudged her. “It’s now or never.”

  Reluctantly, she turned the stun-stick on, and it oozed with electricity. On their way to the tower, Nandor had cranked it until it was charged to full, and it was practically begging for a chance to unleash itself. Blue sparks lit up the corridor as she turned the grip on overcharge, and it crackled like distant thunder. “Ready?” she asked.