by Riley Keene
Athala tried to concentrate on what her family’s housecat would look like when angry, and the illusion reacted in kind, its ears flattening as it bared long, sharp teeth. At its size, Athala imagined the hiss as more of a high-pitched roar, like the sound of a mountain lion. The more frightened rats immediately fled the shrill snarl, disappearing into the darkness, or squeezing back through the cracks in the walls. Only three remained, and upon being abandoned by their fellows, they began to back off as well.
As soon as Athala directed the illusion to coil as if to pounce, the three remaining rats scattered, each one fleeing in a different direction to escape the giant predator.
Athala sighed in relief. She considered dropping the illusion, but the magic would hold for a while yet if she kept picturing it, and she didn’t know if the rats were still watching—or if she might encounter more of them farther down the tunnel.
It was good mental exercise, holding the illusion of the giant cat walking alongside her in her mind as she continued down the tunnel. She wasn’t sure if it was actually scaring off any other magically-mutated creatures, but she felt safer and more confident with the wall of fur in her peripheral vision.
Athala was well past the cracked walls and back into the solid, dry hallway before the magic began to dissipate, the giant cat becoming blurry, then slightly translucent, before dissolving into winking motes of light. She was slightly concerned for a moment that something would pounce once it was gone, but her confidence returned when nothing happened.
The wave of mental exhaustion that followed was discouraging, but not unexpected. How long had it been since she held an illusion for more than a few moments? At least since her first few fortnights at the Tower, when Headmaster Pawel was testing her abilities.
It was not terribly long after her illusion faded that she came upon a space where the hallway widened.
At first she thought that it may have been another corner, but the space ahead appeared to be blocked by rubble and there was no other way through.
Curiosity won out over exhaustion and Athala went to examine the rubble. The floor was littered with debris and without watching where she was going, she easily caught her foot on an uneven patch of ground and she stumbled.
Athala tried to catch herself but she immediately put her other foot down on different uneven spot, rolling her ankle along the uneven ground. With a calculated flail she dropped onto her behind, sitting down hard to avoid overbalancing and falling on her face. She sat for a moment, stunned, before looking down at the floor with purpose.
It wasn’t uneven by accident or passage of time. The floor was intentionally carved into a pattern. It was large, with angular gouges that cut nearly a rhen into the floor in some places. From this close she couldn’t make out exactly what it said, so she struggled back up to her feet and stepped back off of it, limping slightly to protect her sore ankle.
She stared at the carvings in the floor for a minute before she realized she was looking at the same ‘fortress’ symbol she’d followed on the signpost back where the hall had split.
This wasn’t a dead end.
It was the way forward.
Athala set her torch into a sconce along the wall where it could illuminate the pile of rubble and carefully picked her way across the letter-carved stone floor. She clambered up onto the rubble tossing small stones down behind her to get a look at what was behind it.
After displacing enough stone, gravel, and dirt to reveal the top edge of a tall stone door, Athala heard a series of sounds behind her. She whirled around, bringing up her hands as if to cast another spell, but relaxed when she saw the glow of torchlight coming around the last bend in the tunnel. She settled down onto the rubble, realizing that she was still a little tired from holding the illusion, and then double so from digging at the stone for a while.
“—as much your fault as mine.” The murmur of voices came to her down the tunnel as the light approached. “You’re the one who got all defensive and made it a big deal.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” came a lower-pitched reply. “I didn’t realize how grumpy the temperature in here was getting me until we got to that cavern and I felt some cool air.”
“Did you two deal with those rats, or were they still too scared to come back?” Athala called down the hallway.
“Athala?” Elise called back, her voice cracking with concern. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, just a little tired.” She slid down the rubble pile, managing not to slip and fall on the uneven ground or the displaced rocks littering the floor.
Elise came around the corner first, holding her torch ahead of her. With a high-pitched squeal she rushed down the hall as soon as she caught sight of Athala. The Conscript’s hug was painful, armor digging into sore places along Athala’s body. “I was terrified that something happened to you! Are you alright? Why did you run off without us?”
“I didn’t run,” Athala said, detaching herself from Elise before the armor left a permanent indention. “I figured out the right way and calmly walked. I could just as much ask why it took you so long to realize I’d gone.”
Elise acknowledged the slightly barbed comment with an embarrassed smile. “When we came to that cavern, we weren’t sure if something might have come into the hallway and grabbed you.”
“Don’t mind me, I’m fine,” Ermolt called from the hallway Elise had come from. Without Elise’s torch, it was pitch black. “We barbarians can see in perfect darkness, you know.” There was a dull thud of him striking a wall, followed by a few mumbled curses. “Oh, there you are,” he said, emerging from the darkness, rubbing his eyes in an exaggerated motion.
“You were fine,” Elise said with a roll of her eyes, although Athala noted she had looked concerned previously. Athala smiled broadly at both of them. It was nice to have them back. “You’re just lucky she’s alright. I was going to show you a world of hurt if any harm came to her.”
Ermolt shrugged before patting Athala’s shoulder with a giant hand. “She can take care of herself. In fact, she looks better than we do. Get some exercise in, lass?”
“A little,” Athala admitted with a smile, waving her hands in a flourish towards the pile of rubble and the very sliver of a door peeking out from behind the top of the pile. “Behold—the ‘fortress’.”
Chapter Seven
While Elise and Ermolt worked to uncover the discovery, Athala leaned against the wall, catching her breath. At first Elise had tried to lecture Athala about wandering off, but Ermolt dragged her away to help him dig out the door instead. Elise was obviously right—wandering around alone was dangerous—but Athala had learned her lesson, especially after she explained her run in with the rats. As it was, Ermolt continued to watch the hallway as he cleared rubble, constantly waiting for the rats to get brave again.
At Ermolt’s insistence, they moved the rocks as little as possible, piling them up on either side of the massive door. Not only would it conserve their energy, but it would make a decent fall back position if they needed it.
As the door took shape out from behind the pile of rock, Athala returned to hovering. She examined the Draconian runes from as closely as Elise would let her. The runes ran vertically up the center of the door, starting at around Ermolt’s knee and ending about five or so rhen above his head. They ran in two columns, left and right, and the Draconian symbols were deeply gouged into the stone.
“Once you’ve cleared the area, I’d like to take a rubbing of these runes for later.”
Elise grabbed a rock about the size of her head, and paused to look over to the wizard. “The whole thing?”
“Yes,” Athala said in a no-nonsense tone. “Both columns are very similar to the inscribed red stone we found earlier, but there are words missing. Different words from each.” She made motion to step forward but Elise shooed her back. “I need this for reference. There might be a message hidden in the differences.”
Ermolt looked up at the door. To his untrained eye they see
med to be exactly the same, but he trusted Athala’s expertise in this and basically every matter ever, especially when it came to a language he didn’t even know existed when he woke up this morning.
“Sounds pretty weird to me,” Elise said. She tossed her rock onto the new pile they made. “Do you think it means something important?”
Athala seemed to think about it before finally shrugging. “I’ve never heard of such a thing, but I haven’t heard much at all about Draconian messages. It might be nothing. It could just be removable syntax to make it fit on the door, or it could be that the missing words are something related to giving directions or distance to the spell, and they don’t apply to the message in this location. But if this place was intended to be sealed for a long time, it might have been a message left behind to guide people who knew how to read Draconian. The missing words could be directions through a labyrinth, or a warning about a trap. It would take a while to decode the message, so it might be worth revisiting later instead of sitting down and dealing with it now.”
“However you want to deal with it,” Ermolt said with a grunt, hefting a large stone from the bottom of the pile and sending bits of gravel scattering. “Take your time. I’ll be happy to have a seat for a while after this.”
Athala danced back and forth on the balls of her feet as they cleared the layers of rubble. Her excitement was palpable and Ermolt could see it wearing on Elise. After a few moments the Conscript grabbed the wizard by the arm and made her sit back down, against the wall, where she’d been to catch her breath. “A quarter of a bell, Athala, by Ydia’s Light. Just—just sit still and it’ll happen faster.”
Athala pouted a little at this, but within moments she had found a way to distract herself by examining the previous rubbing. Without her as a hindrance, Elise and Ermolt were able to work faster. Ermolt moved the last few large stones away from the door as Elise swept the smaller rocks and gravel away with her foot.
“Oh, good, you’re done,” Athala said immediately as soon as Ermolt took a seat on a large rock. “I’ll start taking the rubbing.” She dug through her knapsack for her tools. “If you want to help out, you can start by cleaning the dirt out of the carvings. After that,” she paused, looking up at the height of the door. The top of the runes were far over her head. “I might need a hand getting it all.”
Ermolt groaned and looked to Elise, who was already moving to help clean up the symbols. “I’ll help with this part. You go ahead and rest a moment.” She smiled at him, and while he could clearly see her exhaustion, he appreciated her sacrifice.
After a moment or so Ermolt pulled himself to his feet and helped the other two dust off the symbols. When it came time, he hoisted Athala up on his shoulders so she could reach the top of the door. When the task was done the three of them took a brief break, passing around a waterskin from Ermolt’s pack when it became obvious that both Athala and Elise had forgotten theirs.
“Alright,” Elise said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s get this thing open. I’m not really sure what time it is, but we didn’t bring provisions for another meal.”
“There’s always rat,” Ermolt teased, laughing uproariously when Elise shuddered.
“We should probably check to make sure there’s no traps on this door.” Athala looked at the door sideways, distrustfully. “Judging by all the runes, this might be the only way that leads to the spell. If there was anywhere to put a trap or a spell or something, it’s only logical to put it where the path gets the narrowest. Easier to put a pit or a flame trap in one place that everyone has to pass through than to put a bunch of them to cover all entrances.”
“That’s a smart call,” Ermolt said with a nod, settling back down onto the large stone he had been sitting on. “And here I was going to just burst right through.” He chuckled. “Probably would have deserved my hair aflame, or whatever else might be waiting. That actually reminds me of this one time—”
While her companions sat back Elise examined the door.
Elise had been honest with Ermolt and Athala about her past, so they allowed her to take the lead on this without question. Ermolt distracted Athala by telling a story about how he accidentally triggered a pressure plate trap once and sent three merchants into a pit full of living oozes. Their laughter warmed Elise’s heart after the trials of the day.
Elise hadn’t always been a Conscript of Ydia, and before a Priest had shown her kindness and taken her in, she’d been an orphaned urchin who swept the streets for free meals and freer trinkets. She’d learned many useful skills as a youth, such as pick-pocketing and sneaking around unseen. Looking for traps wasn’t a prized skill among child thieves, but it was one that had saved her hide quite a few times.
The door before her was large, likely heavy, and made of a generic stone Elise didn’t recognize instantly. There were no hinges or other mechanisms on this side of it, and the two handles—one on either side of the massive crack that ran down the center of the door—were made of metal and seemed to grow out of the stone itself. There was no seam or point of attachment.
Elise started by attempting to peer through the crack in between the doors, being careful not to touch any part of the door itself. The doors were set too close together to see into the room beyond, but she could just barely perceive a space between them. Elise started low and worked her way up, looking for any trigger mechanism that might be between the doors. She proceeded as high up as she could reach, before moving to examine the cracks in the sides of the doors as well.
“Well, I don’t see anything, but it’s hard to tell. The doors are almost perfectly flush.”
“Ermolt,” Athala said, pointing up at the top. “Can you check the top up there?”
“I would, but I don’t have the expertise.” He gathered himself to his feet and began patting the dust of the rubble off the seat of his thick hide cuisses. “But I know someone who does.”
“Ermolt,” Elise cautioned, turning to fix him with a glare. “Don’t.”
“Elise, please,” Athala said, fixing her with a furrowed brow. “I’d rather we get through this without getting acid dumped on us, or spiked through the eyes, or whatever other horrible fate possibly awaits.”
“Alright, fine,” Elise grumbled. “Let’s just get it done.”
“Of course,” Ermolt said, kneeling down next to her.
Elise set one foot onto his knee, and with a hand on the back of his head to steady herself, she vaulted up onto his shoulders as though she was mounting a horse. Ermolt grunted a little at the unkind impact, the weight of her mail—and her muscled form—likely making her a heavier passenger than Athala had been. Ermolt grabbed onto her calves to steady her as he slowly rose to his feet, bringing her eye-line up above the top of the door.
“A little lower,” Elise instructed, and Ermolt bent at the knees to bring her down in line with the door, allowing her to peer into the crack. She had one hand on the wall as she leaned into it for a close, careful examination, and another on top of Ermolt’s head, ready to grip into his thick hair if he tried any sort of prank while she was on his shoulders.
But Ermolt played nice, much to Elise’s surprise. As she finished examining the door he slowly bent at the knees to allow her to climb down. Before she did so, however, she cuffed him lightly above the ear.
“What was that for?” Ermolt said with a laugh.
“Novelty.” Elise nodded solemnly before breaking into a grin. “It’s not often that I can reach the top of your head. I couldn’t let the opportunity pass.” She allowed herself a short laugh before shrugging. “But still. Nothing. No visible triggers.”
“Alright, so what now?” Ermolt asked, looking between the two women as they frowned at the door.
“Well,” Elise began. “I can’t see light on the other side of the door, so it’s still possible there’s a trigger that just isn’t visible on this side.”
“And because the doors are flush like that even in the middle,” Athala continued, “there is
likely some magic at work here. It’s also possible that whatever magic either allows them to open—or blocks visibility, whichever it may be—may include a trap of its own. Strategically carved Draconian runes imbued with a little energy could survive this long without being triggered, especially with the spell suffusing the air with magical energies. If it went undisturbed for as long as that rubble has been here, there’s no doubt it could still be active and dangerous.”
Athala walked to the door and leaned in very close to the handles. For one brief moment, Elise thought the wizard was going to reach out and grab the handle, something none of them had done just yet.
But instead, Athala just stood up straight and started pacing in front of the door. “Even if it was triggered a few times early in this ruin’s lifetime, there’s still a risk that the ambient magic energies let loose by the spell could have had an effect on the remaining magical imprint, recharging, er, something. In other words, the trap could even be deadlier than it was originally intended.”
“At this point,” Elise concluded, “all we can say is that there’s nothing we can do besides force our way in and hope it’s either nothing, or, alternatively, nothing we can’t handle.” She shook her head. “I just wish we had a second option.”
“I don’t really have a skill set to deal with this,” Ermolt said with a shrug. He bent at the knees to pick up his hammer. “Unless you want it smashed, I’m not terribly useful for dealing with door-related threats. I mean, I could smash it, if you think that would help.”
“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” Elise mused. “Most traps are designed with the door in mind, especially a heavy stone thing like this. Actually breaking the door might foul the mechanisms. With stone like this, people don’t usually consider the possibility of them being broken.”
“Even magical traps,” Athala added, “could be disrupted by destroying the stone they’re carved into. Any energies would be discharged into the doors themselves. It might still be dangerous, but if you can protect your face, it’s unlikely to be deadly. If the spell actually destroys the stone of the door, any flying rocks are likely to be directed away from us, or at least will be less fatal than a literally stone-shattering spell being unleashed directly into our bodies.”