Sight Beyond Epik Sight: A Steampunk Fantasy Romp (Epik Fantasy Book 3)

by William Tyler Davis

  This was the best they could do—three brooms and an invisible pony. There were no better—or other—means to travel from the cottage and slip unnoticed aboard a moving train.

  Unnoticed, that’s the key, Brendan thought. His unease bubbled to the surface. But Epik had assured him it wouldn’t be a problem, saying he could do the same for them as he’d done for Buster.

  Brendan remembered times past in Dune All-En. Epik wasn’t so good at vanishing back then. Wasn’t it actually Brendan himself who had let the halfling back inside the city? The whole thwarting of Nacer might have been stopped then and there.

  What had Epik really done, anyway? Stopped Nacer from becoming king of Dune All-En? Perhaps. But Epik hadn’t been able to stop the war with King’s Way. No, it was Brendan and his valiant soldiers that rallied to the cause and fought off the invaders.

  Brendan was beginning to lose faith in the halfling, the witches, and this plan… But there was nothing left to lose.

  The world began to undulate below them. Hills became mountains. They raced through the sky, Brendan hoping and wishing the airship could know such speed and maneuverability. Finally, they reached the start of the Tabletop Mountains, or possibly the finish.

  The three broomsticks and an invisible pony hovered in the air, stopping at the mouth of a dark tunnel in the bottom of the closest mountain. The warehouse was somewhere behind them, back toward World’s Eye. And if they followed the track through the mountains, it led to King’s Way.

  “If the train left three hours ago going forty kilometers an hour, and us an hour and a half ago going around thirty,” Millie’s voice carried on the wind, “after solving for t, the train will coming around this bend… right… about… now.”

  As if on her command, a billowing stack of steam erupted into the air, puffing above a hill on the horizon. The black engine came into view. It sounded like a moving earthquake with its chugga chugga chug.

  “Okay,” Epik yelled. He pulled his wand from his cloak. “Now, we’ll be able to see each other, but no one else will see us. Understand?”

  There was a general nod, a rumble of approval, and Epik waved the wand. Brendan felt the warm sensation of the spell and then nothing. He hoped beyond hope the spell had worked. But it looked as if nothing much had happened—except now he could see Buster. Three broomsticks, one pony, eight people, all floating magically in the air.

  “Just like we practiced,” Epik said to Buster.

  “But we didn’t practice,” Amber scoffed from behind him.

  “You didn’t. We did.” He patted the pony’s mane then said, “We should each land on a separate carriage—and not the first one.”

  “That’s right,” Millie agreed. “There’re definitely men aboard the first and the last.” She pointed. “If we do this right, they won’t even know we’ve been there until well after we’re gone. Epik and I can both do the hover charm on the mythraluminum. We’ll make it as light as a feather.”

  Sure you will, Brendan thought. No matter how much magic he saw, he was still skeptical. It all seemed like an illusion, nothing he could put his hands on. His sense of wonder had died when he was a boy, along with his father.

  They dove toward the train which pressed on toward the tunnel. It traveled quicker that Brendan thought such a huge monstrosity should be allowed to travel.

  The broom began to shudder as Millie brought them to the point where two carriages were coupled together by chains. Buffers kept each from striking the other.

  “Well, get down, will ya,” Millie encouraged him. “We don’t have all day.”

  And she was right, that tunnel was closing in fast. Brendan fell to one side14 of the coupling, finding a small perch to land on. He clung to a railing while Millie dropped on the other side. She yanked the still flying broom from the air before the lights went out.

  The train plunged into darkness.

  Two carriages down, Epik lit the tip of his wand. He and Amber slipped inside it. The space was cramped and dark. Epik shined the light over its cargo. The carriage was brimming with bins full of rock, not metal.

  “What is this?” Epik asked.

  Amber took a closer look at it, picking up a chunk and tossing it from hand to hand. “Hog iron,” she said, befuddled. “This was never about getting the mythraluminum from World’s Eye. I think I know what’s going on.”

  “And that is?” Epik asked.

  “Well, now that I think of it, I read somewhere there’s a mine outside the city. Someone else casts or forges the metal… Epik, did Trace ever ride the train?”

  “I’m not sure. I think he just watched it. Why?

  But the train didn’t have time for Epik’s question. It began to slow steadily, riding on its brakes. Epik peered outside. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. They were traveling still deeper into the earth.

  “Dwarves,” Epik said flatly.

  “You betcha,” Amber said. “And the Tabletop Mountain dwarves aren’t known for their kindness.”

  “It’s all right,” Epik said. “I know a few dwarves.”

  “You may know a dwarf—or seven. But you don’t know these dwarves. They aren’t known for their hospitality. More for their axe now and axe15 questions later attitude.”

  “Right.” Epik gulped. “Well, the spell should hold. They can’t axe what they don’t see, now can they?”

  The train slowed to a stop, and both Amber and Epik poked their heads outside.

  “I guess we’ll find out.”

  23

  Brendan’s Bane

  Brendan hopped down from the train, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. There was a faint glow from something in the cavern’s belly.

  A forge, Brendan thought. The immense furnace at the cavern’s center would be all the light the dwarves needed to see by. Their beady black irises would manage nicely.

  Brendan, however, had no evolutionary advantage. But after his eyes adjusted, he could see exactly what this was. Not a cave, not even a hollowed-out pit like trolls made. No, everything here was meticulously carved from the stone, ornamental.

  The depot led to an archway with fine lettering across it. The archway, in turn, allowed entry into the lower levels. Brendan wasn’t the only man to get off the train. The rest of the company stepped down and huddled around him.

  Then from the back of the train came a crew of men. They began to roll carts off the carriages down to the archway.

  Brendan’s eyes spotted a familiar gait. Captain Todder struggled onward.

  “We should follow them,” Brendan urged.

  The others either agreed or had no better plan. They followed, trailing behind Brendan who strode to catch up.

  The halls of the chamber were carved much like the coliseum in King’s Way. Meticulously crafted pillars kept the mountain above them above them and elaborate arches and doorways led to more rooms or halls.

  They followed Todder who followed the other men into the heart of the forge. A fiery pit of hot metal glowed at the center of the cavernous room. Above it, carts, much like the ones the soldiers pushed, were held aloft by chains and pulleys. They dumped their contents into the pit, then moved off through the chamber.

  Below it all, the forge poured its contents into thin sheets of molten metal. From there, the sheets traveled on a conveyor belt out of sight.

  Brendan motioned for everyone to follow his lead. Instead of staying with Todder, Brendan headed for the other side of the great room.

  “What are we doing?” Epik asked.

  “We’re getting the metal, and we’re getting out of here,” Brendan said.

  “What about Todder?”

  “What about Todder? Todder’s not a linchpin to winning the war. The airship is.” Brendan wavered at Epik’s dejected countenance. He shook his head ruefully. “Dammit, we’ll come back for him. Okay? But let’s do this first.”

  The next chamber was not quite as large, but still grand on the scale of things. Here, the metal was pressed into
shape, then cooled with water. Every few seconds they heard the hiss of steam.

  “Does anyone else wonder where the dwarves are?” Amber asked.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Millie announced.

  “Who cares?” Brendan asked. “It’s less for us to deal with.”

  “But this can’t all be automated,” Amber said. “Someone has to be pulling those chains, turning that belt, and watching that forge.”

  “You’re forgetting something,” Millie said.

  When Amber eyed her skeptically, Millie said, “Magic.”

  “Still,” Amber protested, “the dwarves would never leave it like this.”

  Epik was beginning to feel uneasy as well. Where were the dwarves? There was no sign of life other than what arrived on the train.

  He took a breath and felt for the magic Kavya had gifted him—that for sensing other magic. He reached out, searching their surroundings for any sign of someone with the gift of magic. He counted: one, two, three, four, five…. Six.

  Six? That’s not right, he thought. Millie, the twins, himself, and Brendan. But it wasn’t a magician. It felt like a child’s inner magic. Unknowing, they couldn’t wield it. Someone on the train had magic. But who?

  No one had gotten off but Todder and that crew of zombified soldiers.

  Todder…

  They found the end of the line, where sheets of mythraluminum were rolled into huge coils, like bales of hay. There were also long bars of steel and pipes and many other goods filling the storage area.

  “Just put the spell on this metal, and let’s get out of here,” Brendan encouraged. “I’m not saying I want to figure out where the dwarves went, but I’m with you—something isn’t right here.”

  “Not right at all.”

  The words swept through the chamber. The voice rasped while at the same time being airy, and it seemed to come from all around.

  Something in Epik told him to turn and look from whence they came. A shadowy shape materialized. A wraith—but more than a wraith. More than just mist. It stole elements from their surroundings, dust from the metal and fire from the pot. It rose up, barricading the archway.

  “What is this foul creature?” Brendan asked, drawing his sword. “And how do we kill it?

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” Epik brandished his wand.

  “It’s a demon wraith,” Millie asserted. “Created by stealing the soul of a magical creature—like a dragon.”

  “Can it see us?” Sergeant Causeway asked.

  Corporal Shank pulled a small crossbow from her belt and fired a bolt. It disappeared into the shadowy fire, doing no damage. The demon wraith hissed in agitation anyway. From its chest, it pulled away a fiery ball of itself and threw it toward Shank. The fire hit her square in the chest.

  “I’d say it can,” Brendan remarked. He ducked behind one of the giant coils.

  Millie used her magic. Water from the vat used to cool the metal erupted from her wand. It arched like a rainbow across the room and extinguished the flames on Shank’s chest.

  Which, of course, gave Epik an idea—with a flourish of his own wand, the whole of the vat went careening toward the demon, dousing the evil spirit with water and putting out the flames. But the water did little to actually stop the beast. The dust and metal of its skin oozed and slithered to reform. The slimy beast was more than mere shadow; it roared and thrust its arm toward Brendan.

  “Don’t tell me you thought that would work,” Brendan spat. He swung his sword and knocked the demon’s arm back. “That’s like trying to hit an easy button at work.”

  “Hey! It was a worth a shot.” Epik shrugged.

  Brendan twirled his sword in agitation, his eyes on the beast. “For Avalon’s sake, I’m cursed with the worst wizards.”

  “Better that than to be cursed by the best,” Millie retorted. She shot a stunning spell at the demon. It fell backward, momentarily dazed.

  The crew and the twins backed away. They pulled the injured Corporal Shank to safety, leaving only Millie, Epik, and Brendan to face the beast.

  “We need to make it use its energy,” Brendan urged, “just like the other wraiths.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Millie summoned another stunning spell. “Look at what its doing down here, singlehandedly running a forge. I told you, they use energy like fire.”

  “Oh, I have more than a single hand.” The demon wraith again summoned fiery metal from the forge. Arms extended from its body, four to each side. And with its flaming hands, it hurled Great Balls of Fire at them.

  “Well, since you’re the expert,” Brendan rolled behind another coil beside Millie, “what’s your plan?”

  “Her plan?” Epik asked him. “You’re the one with magic in your ideas. Why don’t you come up with something?”

  A ball of fire whizzed over the puffy bobble on Brendan’s wool hat.

  Millie sent another spell, but the beast was barely fazed by them now, as if its molten skin adapted to magic.

  While the demon wraith was unfazed, Brendan was the opposite—taken aback with his own back against a coil of metal.

  Magic? What magic? What did Epik mean? Surely, Brendan thought, Epik couldn’t mean he had…

  But it did add up—like a complex order of operations problem. Brendan had felt the magic when drawing the airship, and sometimes when thinking of tactics in battle. He’d even noticed similarities between himself and the old man Eddis, who put his ideas to paper before hashing them out.

  But Brendan wasn’t trained, not like Epik. How was he supposed to come up with something right here on the spot?

  “I… I don’t know how,” Brendan told the halfling.

  “Sure you do.” Epik cast a spell at the beast. White light erupted from the tip of his wand, but the demon wraith was only pushed back a few feet. “Brendan, it’s no different now than it was before you knew. Think of a plan, and we’ll execute it.”

  “It… it’s not that.” Brendan wasn’t sure how to say what he was trying to say. Ever since the battle on the airship, since losing part of his crew, well, the ideas weren’t really flowing like they used to.

  “Are you blocked?” Millie asked.

  “In a way,” Brendan answered.

  “Yeah, well, so are we.” She leveled her wand at the beast.

  She’s right, Brendan thought. There was no way out except through the entrance the demon wraith occupied. All that lay behind them were stores and stores of metal.

  It truly was an end scene16—and mostly their end.

  “It draws power from the heat,” Brendan started to work through the problem. “Okay,” he chewed his lip, “I think I’ve got something.”

  “And that is?” Both their spells were having little effect. The beast was now able to push right through them. They only had seconds before it was on them.

  “First, we need to trap him in the metal, make like a cage with it. Can you do that?”

  “Even if we couldn’t,” Epik said through gritted teeth, “your magic might enable us to.” The halfling pointed his wand at the metal behind them, then he twirled the wand.

  One by one, the bars flew up and welded themselves together around the beast. It yanked at the metal, intent on escape.

  “And now?” Epik asked.

  “Right…” Brendan moved his sword to his left hand and absentmindedly reached for the back of his head, pushed his fingers under the wool cap and into the thickness of his hair. “Well, he draws power from the heat. So we need the opposite—if you know what I mean.”

  “The snow? Up on the mountain?” Millie pointed up.

  Brendan nodded.

  “I don’t know this spell,” she said.

  “You don’t have to.” Epik’s own spell wore thin. The beast was working its way through the bars.

  Millie pointed her wand to the sky, then squeezed her eyes closed, flinching as she cast the spell.

  They heard what sounded like an avalanche. The mountain rumbled. A hole ope
ned in the cavern roof above them, and through it came a mountain’s worth of snow. The beast screamed in agony. It vanished into vapor, steam boiling up the heap of snow, but not reforming. Somehow, it was gone.

  “And now we’re trapped down here anyway,” Brendan said, nonplussed.

  They looked around to find the rest of the crew and the twins.

  “Where’d they go?” Millie asked. She bobbed her head around the mythraluminum supply to find them, but they were nowhere to be seen.

  “If I had to guess,” Epik guessed, “they followed these signs with the red lettering.”

  “And what do the signs say?” Brendan studied the runes.

  “Oh, that’s dwarfish for ‘exit.’ Remember, I used to work in a dwarfish bar.”

  “Seriously? You didn’t think that was worth mentioning before?”

  Epik shrugged. “I hoped we’d win.”

  “Figured we’d win,” Millie corrected.

  “Right, isn’t that what I said?”

  Millie put up a finger to protest, but Brendan stepped between them. “Let’s get this mythraluminum, and let’s get out of here.”

  24

  The Not-So-Great Train Robbery

  Epik’s spell had the effect of making the mythraluminum light as a feather—it was already as stiff as board. Stiffer really, but not brittle.

  Gifting Brendan with the ability to lift it with just his fingertips was one thing, navigating the turns required to get back to the train proved more difficult. The metal was still bulky, especially the way they’d hastily tied it together. Then Epik had vanished the coils with the rest of them.

  Brendan had to be careful not to crash into corners, afraid to rouse the soldiers as they commenced loading the train from the exit, having found the entrance of the storage room blocked by snow.

  “I wonder if whoever controls them is put off by the blockage?” Brendan whispered to Epik.

  They both eyed Todder. The old captain grunted with effort. He forced one last coil of mythraluminum onto the carriage before he teetered shakily toward the steam engine.