After they were cleaned up, they all sat in Lord William's sitting room, the kind of place Berig had never expected to be. Comfortable red couches. Fancy portraits on the walls. Soft carpets. Even after bathing, Berig felt like he was making the furniture dirty.
William sat down across the room, holding a cup of tea. "So what brings you all here?"
Ander recounted their difficult journey, then said, "At least they let us go free. I wasn't expecting that."
"They could've kept you," William said, "but they probably didn't think you a threat."
Berig sipped at his tea, something fruity he'd never tasted before. "Still don't make much sense to me."
"It's not as strange as you might think," William said. "Like the commander said, denying you your goal was punishment enough. And they will keep an eye on you."
"Well, we don't intend on staying here long," Ander said.
"Where are you going?" William asked.
Ander filled him in on Klint's secret route to Mountainside and the plan they'd hatched to get him out of the dungeon.
William frowned. "Sounds a bit strange to me. I've worked with this man before. He's a reliable smuggler, but he is interested first and foremost in himself. He might have made up this alternate route so that you would save him. It's a lot to risk for something so doubtful."
Berig considered that. "I don't know. Seemed like he was telling the truth to me."
"I think so, too," Aric said. "It makes sense. That would explain how he's so good at getting things from Mountainside to the rest of the Empire."
"Maybe," William said. "But I can't quite bring myself to trust him."
"We have to go back anyways," Ander said. "They took my staff."
"Your staff?" William said.
"When they brought magical staffs to the Order in Crayden, I was able to use one. It's been very useful, but they confiscated it. I feel almost naked without it."
"I'll try to get it back for you," Berig said.
"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Ander said.
"No, I need to do it. I'm the only one who can climb like that."
"I can do it too," Talia said.
Berig shook his head. "I'd prefer to work alone. I've got some experience from when I used to be a thief. I know how to sneak around. Let me do this on my own."
She frowned, but nodded. Berig could see the loss in her eyes, and he still blamed himself for Graig's death. Not to mention the captain's death. Too many people had died because of him. The least he could do was make up for those deaths. After that, he'd decide if he still wanted to come. If not, he could go back to thievery here in Varner City.
Danica smiled at him. "You'll do great, Berig."
He wished he could feel so hopeful.
Late that night, once everyone else had gone to sleep, Berig crept out of the manor and back toward the garrison. He had only his knife, as he didn't feel comfortable with anything else. Besides, the only way he'd manage this was if he avoided battles altogether.
When he arrived at the garrison, he took a good look at the tower. No guards patrolled the area, and the muggy night felt eerily still.
The tower went right up to the cliff, forming a wedge-shaped indentation. He could brace himself with one foot against the cliff and the other against the tower. Dangerous, but he'd climbed tougher.
He had to swallow his fear and get it over with.
After a deep breath, he wedged himself into the space. Then he climbed slowly, taking care to place his feet in the right positions as sweat beaded on his forehead.
Don't look down. Don't look down. Don't look down. But he did. He had to.
And his stomach lurched. Already, he'd climbed at least twenty feet. Another twenty or thirty remained. Taking deep breaths, he continued in a steady rhythm.
A few near-slips later, he reached the top of the tower and rolled over the stone wall. Then he waited awhile, steadying himself before moving to the wooden trapdoor atop the tower. He opened the door and slipped through.
Heart pounding, he followed the narrow, torchlit corridor as it spiraled downward. Every shadow made him jump. Every sound made him shiver. Calm down, he told himself, but it didn't work. It never had. Nerves had always been his biggest failure as a thief.
He stopped before the wooden door at the bottom of the stairs and listened. No sound came from the other side, so he eased the door open and peered through.
The corridor beyond was empty. He fought to calm his breathing as he crept past a few doors, toward the dungeon at the end of the hall. Would there be a guard at the door, or even in the dungeon itself?
Footsteps sounded, and Berig froze, peering around in alarm. They came from a room off to his left, the garrison's common room if he remembered correctly. He slipped through the door into a different room, praying it was empty.
It wasn't. The faint snores of four Imperial Guards filled the room. Berig held his breath and tried to keep his legs steady as the footsteps came closer, passing through the corridor. Would the Imperial Guard check in this room?
But the door didn't open, and soon the patrolling guard returned to the common room. Berig exhaled, slipped back into the corridor, then tiptoed across the stone floor, reaching the dungeon door in no time. He tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. Locked.
He cursed and glanced around. Where was the damn key?
As much as it worried him, he had to check some of the other rooms. The first three doors he opened revealed more sleeping Imperial Guards. The fourth, however, opened into a room where stairs led downward to something. Storage perhaps.
He slipped into the dusty chamber, then started down the wide stone stairs, feeling as if his steps where echoing even though his worn leather shoes made no sound.
He reached the bottom of the stairs. To his left was a large storage room full of crates and stone containers. He went into this room and grabbed a large pot.
It could make a good weapon.
He crept through the corridor, not sure where he was going, and peered around the next corner, into a room where a man stood guard over something. Heart pounding, Berig ducked back out of view. What could the man be guarding?
Berig summoned his courage and looked around the corner again. The man sat in a wooden chair on the left side of the room, facing away from Berig and watching a cooking pot suspended over a small fire.
Good. He'd never know Berig was coming.
Berig padded across the stone floor, approaching from behind, then lifted the vase and slammed it against the back of the guard's head. The man didn't even grunt as he fell forward out of the chair and hit the floor limply. Berig bent low and placed a finger against the guard's neck.
There was a pulse. Good. Berig would've felt bad about killing him.
Two wooden staffs hung on the wall, and Berig grabbed both, figuring you could never have too much defense. But how would he get Klint out of the dungeon?
There had to be a key somewhere. He searched for minutes, looking into every nook and cranny of the room, opening the desks and checking in barrels, but there was nothing. With only the staffs in his hands, he walked out of the room. What the hell could he do know?
As he went up the stairs, an idea came to him. Maybe the Imperial Guards didn't know how these staffs worked. Maybe Berig could trick them into letting Klint out.
Berig stepped out into the corridor and waited. A few minutes later, the patrolling guard marched into view, and Berig pointed the staff at him. "Don't move. Do whatever I say."
The man looked around with wide eyes.
"Don't even think of calling for help," Berig said. "I'll kill you the second you do."
Berig fought to keep the fear off his face. He couldn't kill this man, couldn't even use the staff, but the Imperial Guard didn't know that. All Berig had to do was remain calm.
"Unlock the dungeon door," he said, and the man did so with a key from his belt. Berig followed him inside, where Klint waited in the last cell on
the left.
"Now unlock the cell door," Berig said.
"You won't get away with this," said the Imperial Guard.
"I'll get away with whatever I want. Now unlock the damn door." With the staff, Berig nudged him hard in the back. The man hesitated, then turned the key in the lock.
As soon as the door opened, Klint raced out. He grabbed one of the staffs from Berig, pointed it at the man, then shook his head. "No," he said. "Can't risk anyone hearing your screams." He turned to Berig. "Give me your dagger."
"Hey, I didn't sign up to kill no one," Berig said.
Klint's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "Just give me the dagger."
Reluctantly, Berig handed the dagger to Klint, who pressed it against the Imperial Guard's neck. The Imperial Guard opened his mouth to scream, but Klint put a hand over the man's mouth.
"If you're smart," Klint said, "I'll let you live through this. Just do as I say."
The man nodded.
Klint smiled. "Good. Now give me your sword. Slowly. You don't want to make me nervous." He looked at Berig again. "Take his sword."
Berig did so even though the sword felt unwieldy in his hands. Then he found some material to gag the guard and rope to bind his hands. The man didn't protest.
"I'm glad you didn't kill him," Berig said.
"Can't make any guarantees about that just yet."
They stepped out of the dungeon, marching the Imperial Guard in front of them. The man remained silent as they went back up the tower. Once they stood above, Klint shoved the Imperial Guard to his knees. He grunted through his gag.
Klint used more rope to bind the man's legs. "Consider yourself lucky. I could've killed you." He turned to Berig. "Let's go. Don't worry. I can make the climb down."
Berig's stomach churned as he followed Klint down the cliff, taking care to wedge himself between the tower and the rocks. They descended slowly in the dark. No sound came from atop the tower.
When they reached the bottom, Berig felt he could breathe again.
"Where're you people staying?" Klint asked.
"I'll take you there."
Chapter 47
Nadia noticed a sudden change in Markus as he sat beside her on the bench. His body tensed. His expression tightened.
She put a hand on his shoulder. "What did you see?"
Markus looked away, biting his lower lip.
"It's okay," she said. "You can tell me."
Markus had tears in his eyes. "I saw how my parents died. They were trying to escape the Empire. My uncle was there. He did nothing to stop the other Imperial Guards."
"What could he have done?" she asked.
He clenched his fists. "I don't know. But he just stood there, doing nothing." He shook his head. "Look. I know it was a tough situation, but that doesn't make me any less angry."
Cyrus cleared his throat. "I don't mean to interrupt this emotional situation, but there are a few more matters to discuss before you leave."
Nadia turned her attention to Cyrus. Markus still looked as if he were lost in his anger, his troubled thoughts. She kept her hand on his shoulder, wishing she could comfort him and wondering if there was something more than friendship between them.
"First," Cyrus said, "there's the matter of who's going to accompany you."
"What do you mean?" Nadia asked.
"What you're doing is very important," Cyrus said. "Did you think I'd let you go the rest of the way on your own? That would be foolish. This is our best chance to end Warrick's rule. We can't afford to keep possible help from you." He sighed, looking away. "At the same time, though, we can't give you too much help. A mission like this depends on secrecy."
Nadia saw something strange in Cyrus's expression, as though he was holding something back. She didn't pursue it, though, as he didn't strike her as a man who shared his secrets. It was enough that he'd saved their lives.
She'd seen the same hesitancy in Cyrus's behavior earlier, but she hadn't pressed him on it. She knew enough about secrecy herself to recognize when someone wouldn't reveal anything more.
"I've determined three people who can help you," Cyrus said. "I will call them over."
He rose from the stone bench, walked to where the other Order members had gathered, then returned with three people.
"This is Jakob," he said, gesturing to a bearded man with light brown hair, who looked on with narrowed eyes and a frown. "Jakob has a natural magical talent for seeing in the dark. This should prove useful in the Forest of Darkness."
The next man, tall and muscular with darker hair and an unshaven face, was Garet.
"Garet is a seasoned adventurer," Cyrus said. "He's been just about everywhere you can go in the eastern half of the Empire."
Though Garet's face looked stern, he seemed more eager for adventure. He had strapped a sword, a bow, and a pair of knives to his back.
"Lastly, here is Alana," Cyrus said, indicating a young woman with dark blond hair who carried a magical staff. "She's quite talented with her staff. She should prove very useful in any confrontation with the beasts of the desert and forest."
Jakob continued frowning. "She has her staff for the forest. You don't need me."
"Lighting a staff in the forest is dangerous," Cyrus said. "Any light may attract the creatures that lurk in the trees. You might be safe with a glowing compass, but nothing more. I'm sorry, Jakob, I know you want to stay with your family, but this quest needs you."
"All right. I want to see Warrick dead as much as anyone." Jakob collapsed onto a nearby stone bench, staring off into space.
"Are you sure we should separate him from his family?" Nadia asked.
"Unfortunately, it is necessary," Cyrus said. "Jakob will do his best."
Rik cleared his throat. "You got any more of those magical staffs?"
"Sorry, I almost forgot." Cyrus rose, walked into a nearby room, then returned a few moments later with a magical staff, which he handed to Rik. "Just remember that it's dangerous to use the staff in the forest. Only use it if it's absolutely necessary."
"I'll make sure to be careful," Rik said, and Markus laughed. Nadia stifled her own laugh. She would not have used the word careful to describe anything about Rik. Even Rik was grinning again.
"What about the second scroll?" Nadia asked.
"Don't worry," Cyrus said. "I'll get it for you."
He disappeared briefly into another room, then returned with the scroll and handed it to Nadia. "You and Markus need to rest. Rik, why don't you let Alana teach you a bit about how that staff works?"
Rik grinned, and Nadia was happy to see that expression after all he'd been through.
* * * * *
Rik and Alana stood in a large and empty room. He turned the staff over in his hands, marveling at its sleek wood, its expert craftsmanship. It was strange to think that he could produce magic with this kind of staff, but he'd done it before.
He wished Klint had explained a bit more about the staff, but that would have been out of character for the smuggler. Now Rik was eager to learn what he could do, if only to distract himself from all his other worries.
"The first thing about these staffs," Alana said, "is that their abilities come from seven different elements: Fire, Lightning, Wind, Earth, Water, Ice, and Darkness. You don't get the full range of magic that sorcerers do, but you are still pretty useful in a tight spot." She took a few steps toward Rik. "Let's start with the first element: Fire."
Rik glanced around the stone room, relieved that nothing in there would burn. "Okay, what do I do?" The magnificent staff suddenly felt like nothing more than a chunk of wood.
"First, I will demonstrate a fire shield," Alana said. She raised her staff, and the air shimmered around her. "Now why don't you try to launch a fireball at me?"
Rik felt a little queasy. "You sure that's a good idea?"
"My shield will stop your attack. Don't worry about me."
"Okay," Rik said, taking an uncertain step toward her. "What exactly d
o I do?"
"Picture a fireball in your mind. Channel your thoughts through the staff."
Rik did as she'd instructed, and nothing happened.
"Don't worry," she said, offering him a smile. "It's not always easy to make a spell work at first."
"But I've done it before. I used a staff to generate wind."
"Then maybe we should start with that." She stood back against the wall. "Send some wind at me."
Rik gritted his teeth and tried to recall the way he'd felt on that boat with Markus and Klint. Before he knew it, a great gust of wind came from his staff. The force of it sent him flying backward, and he came within inches of slamming his head against the stone wall.
"Looks like you've got the hang of that one," Alana said, her face a little white. The force of his spell had pinned her to the wall. "Now that you've warmed up, let's try the fireball again."
This time, when Rik tried to channel his magic into a fireball, he succeeded. The fireball only went about two feet from the end of his staff, but it was a start. He had much more success with another fire ability, with which he unleashed a firestorm at the other side of the room. The flames towered from the floor to the ceiling until he let the spell die.
"You have a lot of raw power," Alana said. "But your control could use some work." She smiled. "Or a lot of work."
The next spell he tried was a fire shield. Alana explained that, although the spell had its basis in the element of Fire, it served to protect its caster against many things, including other forms of magic and arrows. A sword could still penetrate a shield, though, and the heat of the shield wasn't enough to deter such threats.
The last Fire ability was the one they weren't supposed to use in the forest. The tip of Rik's staff glowed orange. This spell used little energy compared to the others.
Alana continued to instruct Rik in the rest of the elements. It didn't take long for Rik to send a burst of lightning across the room. Thankfully, Alana was not in its path. He also learned two Earth Abilities, one of which partially destroyed the room.
Empire of Chains (World in Chains Book 1) Page 39