by Ben Hale
He activated his crossbow and aimed at one of the other relics, sending an explosive bolt into the alcove. The woman at the center was faster, and sent a burst of energy to shield it. The fire appeared tiny in the vault and was extinguished by the woman’s power. Then her features changed.
Her countenance darkened with frightening suddenness, the blue light sharpening with fury. Power rippled across her body like lightning, coursing up her torso and into her hands. Then it came to a stop, the power sparking on her fingertips. She spoke for the first time.
“One mistake is permitted. A second will be punished.”
Jack shivered at the voice and the warning. The woman returned to her posture as if she were holding an invisible ball, but the lightning continued to arc up her arms, and her features remained dark.
“What are you?” Jack abruptly asked.
“Identity request confirmed,” she said. “I am a guardian construct.”
He was tempted to ask more but decided against it. He’d pressed his luck enough already, and had no desire to be burnt to ash by the vengeful sentinel. With an effort he turned away from the hovering woman and examined the vault with a critical eye.
Feeling the press of time, he focused on what he knew about the vault. As he pieced together what he could be certain of, an idea formed in his mind. He mulled it over as a smile crossed his face, testing it for flaws. Again and again he rehearsed his intentions, mentally moving his body through every motion until he was ready. His heart thudded in anticipation and a smile spread on his features. Then he sucked in his breath.
And leapt into the vault . . .
Chapter 38: Vault of the Eternals
Jack soared through the air and activated his shadowhook. The black thread streaked into one of the alcoves containing a relic but attached to the side, away from the item. Jack swung himself forward and then extinguished the magic before touching the inner sphere. Sailing through the air he twisted his body into a flip and pointed his feet into another alcove.
He bent his knees to cushion the blow but it was too much and he wobbled, nearly touching the sphere before righting himself. Then he looked to the sentinel, half expecting it to turn and strike him down. He now stood on a curve of the ceiling with an angled view of her features, but she did not move.
He smirked and resisted the urge to taunt her. He’d guessed the truth, that the only safe places to step were the alcoves, where a visitor would need to enter in order to retrieve a relic. The architects of the vault had anticipated every attempt to steal from the chamber.
Except if no one touched it.
He stepped on what was likely a priceless artifact and used it to leap into the air, activating his shadowhook at the apex. He yanked himself into a flip and released the hook, aiming for another alcove. He sent his shadowhook streaking away, connecting for the briefest of moments before sending it into the next hole. When necessary he alighted in an alcove to regain his bearings, and then leapt into the air once more.
He leapt from floor to ceiling and back again, using the alcoves like anchors to hold himself aloft. The edge of the sphere came within inches of his feet before he brought himself back to the center of the room, passing so close he could see his reflection on the sentinel’s frozen features. The proximity to her power raised the hair on his arms.
“Sorry, beautiful,” he said.
She didn’t respond as Jack soared over her head. He sent his shadowhook into the alcove that contained an artifact. The thread of ink yanked him across the space. He twisted in the air and alighted inside the alcove, gliding into the space like a sword into a sheath.
He grinned at the triumph and looked up at the sentinel’s back. She still faced the door with power arcing across her arms. Several times he’d expected her to strike him down but she’d stayed her hand, evidently not enchanted to stop someone using the air in the room to get past her.
“Don’t feel bad,” Jack said. “You’re not the first strongroom I’ve breached.”
She did not turn or answer, and he wondered if she had even heard him. Then he noticed a tightening about her frame that implied tension. On her profile he spotted a touch of wrath distorting her features. Then he realized the truth and his smile widened.
“You can hear me,” he said, “but you can’t retaliate unless someone activates you.”
A rumble escaped the sentinel, confirming Jack’s suspicions. “You know what I’m here to do,” he said, “but you cannot stop it unless I make a mistake. Has it ever happened to you before? Or am I the first to best your defenses?”
Another rumble escaped the sentinel, louder than the first. The lightning on her arms intensified but she still did not turn. Jack laughed and turned away from her.
“Do not worry,” he called out. “I’ll be gone in a moment.”
He slipped into a crouch before the black pyramid, gauging its weight and balance. Although he saw no hint of an enchanted trap, it undoubtedly had some kind of tether. He pulled a knife from his thigh and ran the tiny black blade over the pyramid, searching for curses. It wavered twice but not enough for him to identify the curses around it. Something guarded it but he could not identify what.
For a long moment he stared at the pyramid, considering his options. He’d already activated the sentinel once, and doing so again would attract attention. He mentally listed and dismissed all the curses or hexes possible. The lethal ones would have been affected by the anti-magic knife, leaving only debilitating or alerting type magic. He looked up at the sentinel’s back and grinned.
“Why protect it when it has you,” he said.
Readying himself for the impending flight, he gathered his strength and checked his gear. Then he reached up and sent his shadowhook streaking away. The instant it caught he reached down and scooped up the pyramid.
The sentinel whirled to face him, her features turning indigo blue. “Your retribution has been ordered, thief.”
“Come and get me,” Jack replied.
His shadowhook yanked him out of the way as the sentinel unleashed a blast of lightning. Rock exploded as the lightning ripped a gash in the interior of the sphere, but Jack was already landing on the ceiling.
“You missed.”
Fury rippled across her features and she dived for him, twisting to land on her feet. The moment she touched she rose to face him and rotated her hand. Jack stumbled as the sphere rotated, reacting to her touch.
“No one escapes a construct,” she said, and sent another arc of lightning at him.
He dodged to the side but the current of power lifted the hair on his neck and sent tingles through his limbs. He rolled on the surface of the sphere and leapt to his feet, his speedstone in his palm. Activating it at a touch, a surge of magic enhanced his body and he charged up the slope of the curve.
Lightning bombarded the sphere around him, seeking his heart as he dodged and weaved. Stone shattered and exploded, pummeling him with shards. The sphere spun under his feet, but with the speedstone’s magic his reflexes were heightened even further. He sensed the shifts and moved with them, using the spinning walls and ceiling to his advantage.
She leapt over his head, coming down in front of him, cracking the stone from the impact. She gathered her strength and sent a ball of power at his heart. He dropped to the ground and rolled beneath it, coming up as it detonated behind him. Another arc of lightning exploded to him. He used his momentum and slid into an alcove. The bolt streaked over him, so close that it locked his jaw.
He pushed through the pain and leapt out of the alcove as the sphere spun again, nearly being crushed as the sphere closed the gap. He sprinted away but the surface of the sphere was no longer smooth. Great rents littered the sphere, gouged by tremendous blasts of power. Holes that had led to alcoves were visible under piles of rubble sliding around the surface of the rotating curve.
Jack heard her coming and threw himself upward, evading another arc of power by inches. With the speedstone active, the force of his le
ap carried him to the center of the space. He spun in a casual flip as the pull shifted and yanked him onto the ceiling. Now across the sphere from her, he looked up and grinned.
“You’re a great dancer,” he said.
She snarled and unleashed a current of power. He darted away but it followed in his wake, carving a line across the sphere like a pen on parchment. The relentless blast filled the air with dust and chunks of stone.
Jack dodged falling and sliding rubble, staying ahead of the lightning lance by sheer speed. She kept up the assault, coming closer by the second. Heat singed his cloak and he glanced back to see a line of fire burning in the broken sphere. With all the damage it no longer turned smoothly, and every rotation ground against the rubble that had fallen into the alcove openings.
The grinding slowed the vault and Jack turned toward the entrance door. An alcove opening was rotated toward it, giving Jack the chance he’d been waiting for. He leapt into the air and cast his shadowhook, throwing himself across the sphere. A current of power severed the thread of magic but it was too late, and Jack streaked toward the window.
He flipped again and straightened his body, reaching the hole in the inner sphere just as it passed in front of the entrance door. Like a thread through a needle he passed through the opening and crashed into the door, tumbling to the floor.
A shriek echoed from inside the sphere and the construct spun the strongroom, turning it to bring the larger opening in line. Jack rolled to his feet and darted to the door, swinging it open just as the sentinel appeared in view.
“Better luck next time,” he said.
She unleashed her whole power at him but he swung the vault door shut, allowing it to take the brunt of the attack. The door held, but from the other side he could hear thunder and detonating stone. He expected her to stop but her fury would not abate, and she continued to pummel the thick door.
The speedstone magic faded and Jack leaned against the wall, his chest heaving. He slid to the ground with a smile on his face. Even with her power, he doubted she could break through, not quickly anyway. Temporarily safe, Jack retrieved the pyramid from his side and held it aloft.
“So this is what he wants,” he mused. “But are you really a beacon?”
“It is,” a voice replied. “And it doesn’t belong to you.”
Jack was on his feet in an instant, his dagger in hand. He found himself facing an old man with stark white hair. Although his physical body appeared frail there was a power about his features that could not be ignored.
“I just need to borrow it,” Jack said, shifting his feet in order to bolt past him. If he could make it back to the Gate . . .
The man’s eyes flicked over his shoulder to where the vault door continued to shudder. “That’s enough, Myria,” he said, and the sentinel went silent. “No one has ever bested her before—and almost unscathed, I might add.”
Jack glanced down to see his clothing in tatters. Burns and cuts littered his body from where the lightning had cut into his flesh. He sucked in his breath at the sting and turned his attention back to the man.
“An untested vault always has a weakness,” Jack said, deciding honesty would buy him the most time. The man knew what he’d done. Feigning ignorance would serve no purpose.
“Who are you?” the man asked.
“You first,” Jack replied, shifting his weight once again.
His efforts came to abrupt halt when the man replied.
“My name is Ero.”
Chapter 39: Brother
Jack stared at him shock. Skorn looked like any man, albeit a dark, menacing, cruel one. Ero looked like a god. His features were weathered but flawless, his hair the color of snow. The eyes were bluer than the construct’s lightning, piercing him as if the man could see into Jack’s soul. Still . . .
“Prove it,” Jack said.
The man cocked his head to the side. “You’re not an Eternal and you’re not from . . .” His eyes widened. “You’re from Lumineia.”
“Where else would I be from?”
Ero shook his head. “That’s not possible. How did you even get here?”
“Draeken’s keys,” Jack said. “You really shouldn’t have let him keep them.”
“You can’t be here,” Ero said. “You are not permitted to see the others. Not yet.”
“Just how many ancients are there?” Jack asked, rubbing his forehead.
Ero peaked an eyebrow. “I’m not the first you’ve met?” Then his smile evaporated and his expression hardened. “Skorn.” He said the name like it was a curse.
“You thought he was dead,” Jack realized.
Ero seemed to be lost in memory. “He tried to escape several times. On the last attempt I thought he’d perished.”
“You never suspected the truth?”
“I should have,” Ero said, his lips tightening. “He’s always had a way with survival.”
“I’ve noticed,” Jack said wryly.
Ero’s attention focused on him, a measure of wariness touching his eyes. “You know what he is. Are you his ally?”
“Hardly,” Jack said with a snort. “But I know his identity.”
Ero regarded him for several moments. Then he turned and strode away. “Come. There are things you should know before you return to your home.”
Jack hesitated, and he considered sprinting past him for the Gate that would take him home. But his curiosity drove him to catch up. Stepping to Ero’s side, he followed him to the main sphere.
“How much of the ballad is true?” Jack asked.
Ero threw him an amused look. “Most of it, actually. When we fought I proved victorious, but I lacked the courage to end his life. Instead I imprisoned him.”
“And let him escape.”
Ero’s jaw tightened. “You don’t understand him.”
“He also has a way with manipulation,” Jack said.
Ero released a dry laugh. “I was mistaken. You really do know him.” Then he sighed. “He was not always as he is now.”
The ancient exited the main sphere and turned down a corridor Jack had not visited. The tunnel opened onto a door that resembled the vault. He strode to it and produced a key.
“I do wonder how you managed to bypass the door,” he asked. “And Myria.”
“Magic always triumphs.”
Ero laughed and turned to face him. “You have no idea how true that statement is.”
He caught the door and swung it open. Jack half expected the man to shove him inside and shut it, but instead he entered first, gesturing Jack to follow. Jack stepped in to find himself in a small home. Glass walls revealed a quartet of rooms including a bookless library and a dining hall. Then Jack noticed the text written on the glass and recognized the handwriting.
“This was his prison,” Jack said.
“I kept him here for forty thousand years,” Ero replied, his gaze on the dining area.
“And I thought ten years was a long sentence.”
Ero continued as if he had not heard. “I thought he died in his attempt to escape. Now it appears he has been plotting his revenge.”
“Can you blame him?” Jack asked. “You kept him caged like an animal for eons.”
“Are you concerned for him?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Jack said with a laugh. “But you might as well have fused his blood with a desire for revenge.”
Ero turned to face him. “Our kind does not track time the way yours does, and a thousand years means little to us.”
“How many Eternals are there?”
Ero cast him a strange look. “The Eternals are few in number, but the ancients number more than you can comprehend.”
“Are you this honest with all of your intruders?” Jack asked.
Ero began to laugh. “You are the first to gain entry to our home uninvited, let alone the vault, making you the first intruder I’ve ever encountered.”
“Then why show me all of this?” he asked, sweeping a hand at Skorn’s prison
. “Why tell me so much about you?”
“Because only truth will keep you silent.”
He turned away from the prison and led him back to the main sphere. Once they stepped into the open Ero turned in the direction of the Lumineia Gate. As they followed the path of crushed green stones, Jack shook his head.
“You expect me to return from here and not say a word about it?”
“You must,” he replied. “For to speak of this place will invite others to search for it. Only the Eternals know of its existence, and it must remain that way.”
Jack caught his arm and attempted to force him to turn, but the strength of the old man belied his frail form. Nevertheless, Ero rotated to face him.
“Why not just kill me?” Jack asked bluntly. “It’s the only way to ensure my silence.”
“The Eternals guard Lumineia, not kill those who live upon it. Even dispatching a thief would break our oath.”
“How fortunate for me,” Jack said wryly. If Ero wanted to kill him, Jack knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Can I trust you will hold your tongue?”
Jack regarded him for several moments and then shrugged. “As you order.”
“You have my gratitude,” Ero said. “Now if you will return what you have taken, you may be on your way.”
“What makes you think I took something?” Ero folded his arms and frowned, causing Jack to grin. “What if I refuse?”
“Then you will see my brother’s prison again—from the inside.”
Jack heard a crunch behind him and turned to find Myria. Her hair was in disarray and her features tight with fury. Jack grinned at her expression.
“Hello, beautiful.”
“I request permission to kill him,” she growled, her voice distorted with emotion.
“That will not be necessary,” Ero said, and his expression turned amused. “Unbonded constructs are perfect for defense and always obedient, but they can be unstable.”
“And the bonded ones?” Jack asked.
“They are enhanced by the one that bonded with them, so each is unique.”