The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 2

by William D. Latoria

  “I’m beginning to think that this guy isn’t who we think he is. Nothing in here gives any indication he’s using his position for evil, or that he’s had dealings with kritchet. I’m thinking we have the wrong guy. We should leave.” he said to them.

  They both rounded on him in disbelief, “How could you say that?!” Elizabeth asked. Tartum could see she was frustrated and far from ready to give up.

  Jeth shook his head, “No…no…there’s no way, Tartum. This guy is evil; I’d stake my life on it! The proof is in here, we just need to find it. Keep looking! We’re running out of time.” he said. Tartum could see he was frustrated as well, as he began tearing the room apart. Tartum thought he looked like a man dying of thirst, seeking the last drop of water in the world.

  He was ready to leave Jeth in the room and make his escape with Elizabeth. He began to reach for her but was stopped by the look in her eyes. She was furious! “He is EVIL!” she said, spittle flew from her mouth as she struggled to keep her voice down. “He is guilty of everything we’ve told you about and more. We stay here and find proof or die in the gallows tomorrow. I’m not leaving here until then!” With that, she turned her back on him and began trashing the reception room.

  Tartum was floored; he had seen Elizabeth mad before, but this was different. She was seething with hatred! Her fervent belief in the Bishop’s evil made him second guess his doubts, and he returned to the bishop’s office. He looked around the room and saw how everything was perfectly placed exactly where it was supposed to be. Something about this wasn’t right, every man had secrets, and assuming the guild was right about who he really was, this man had bigger secrets than most. Clearing his head, Tartum considered his situation. According to everything he had been told, the bishop was a man that lived two lives. In one, he was a highly respected and very trusted aide to the King of Saroth. In his hidden life, his true life, he was a powerful, evil caster, hell bent on using his position in the kingdom to bring ruin to his masters and the people he lorded over. A thought occurred to him, the rooms they were in were rooms designed to house the first life, the life he showed the public, and it was perfect in every detail; too perfect. Gilded walls, fancy furnishings, lush embellishments, everything was perfect, clean, and orderly. There was nothing to indicate the man so much as picked his nose when no one was looking. It was flawless, and that’s what made it unbelievable. Tartum saw that now and began to accept that these rooms were nothing more than a way to propagate the lie.

  Opening himself to the magic, Tartum began searching for magical enchantments hidden from the naked eye. Just like he had done with his ring, he channeled a tiny bit of magic into the furnishings in the room. It was an exceptionally slow way to search a room, but it was the only option left for him to try. The only other option left was that the bishop was a good man, and the guild was wrong. Something inside of him screamed that wasn’t the case, the bishop was evil, and the proof was here! It was just a matter of finding it before he was too late.

  He finished channeling magic into the furniture, and nothing gave him any indication it was enchanted. He began to channel his magic into the bookshelves that lined the room of the office. A voice behind him broke his concentration.

  “What are you doing?” Jeth asked.

  Tartum’s heart leapt into his throat. He was so intent on his search, he forgot about Jeth and Elizabeth. Spinning to face him, Tartum allowed his heart to slow down before answering.

  “I’m searching the room for enchantments. I think you’re right. I think the bishop is hiding something, and if he’s as powerful as you claim, he’s likely using magic to do it. Give me a minute to finish searching.” he explained.

  Jeth looked confused but remained silent. Tartum reconnected with his magic and continued his search. As he feared the bookshelves along the interior walls were completely mundane. Not so much as a tremor came back to him from the magic he channeled into them. The only shelves left were along the wall that made up the outside of the tower. He didn’t believe it was possible to hide anything between the shelves and the wall but decided it was better to be thorough, as opposed to stopping now without knowing for sure. As he focused his magic on the center bookshelf, he felt a powerful tug; he almost shouted with the surprise. He ran to the shelf and began pulling the books down. There must have been hundreds, but he didn’t care; there was something magical behind this shelf, and he would bring the whole tower down to get to it.

  Jeth saw what Tartum was doing and started helping him throw the books on the floor. Tartum was working his way up the shelf towards the top, and Jeth was on his hands and knees almost finished on the bottom. Tartum heard a loud click and felt the shelf begin to slide forward. He saw it disappearing through the tower wall and panicked. For a moment, he had the image of being tossed out of the tower still gripping the shelf, falling to his death. Jeth caught him and stopped him from hitting the ground too hard. The bookcase opened up into a hidden room that Tartum’s senses told him couldn’t exist where it was located. It dangled from the tower almost one hundred yards above the ground. Tartum assumed some sort of powerful illusion magic was hiding it from sight, and if it hadn’t been for his magical probing, they never would have found it.

  Together, Jeth and Tartum looked inside the well-lit secret room. It was half the size of the office they were currently in but contained almost twice as much. There was a desk in the middle of the room that sat on a carpet thick with dust and hair. Books, saturated with arcane lore, lined crudely made stone shelves that wound around the interior. There were bags strewn on the floor that held rolled up parchments, Tartum knew to be scrolls. There were amulets and rings hanging from the chandler that lit the room, and a fireplace that shouldn’t have been able to exist. It was everything Tartum had dreamt about finding for almost a year. He wanted to dive into the room and fill his pouches to the brim with the treasures he saw inside. The little voice in his head screamed for him to be cautious, and he was learning to listen to it. Holding up his arm, he stopped Jeth from going inside.

  “What’s the problem?!? We need to get in there now! We’re running out of time!” Jeth said. Tartum could hear how irritated he was with him, but they couldn’t afford to screw this up now.

  “It’s trapped, you moron! Give me a minute to see what I can do. Go get Elizabeth; she’s going to love this.” he ordered. Jeth seemed reluctant to go, but with a sour look on his face, he did as he was told. Tartum was beginning to like being in charge.

  As Jeth left, Tartum channeled his magic into the room. The room was ablaze with numerous items that held magical properties, so Tartum focused on finding anything that was radiating a magical aura but wasn’t immediately obvious to its purpose. The carpet on the floor was magical, but only in one section that seemed to have been cleared recently. In a one-foot squared section on the carpet, the dust wasn’t as thick, and it looked like a place you would have to step on to get around in the crowded room. Focusing a little harder, Tartum realized it wasn’t the carpet that was enchanted but something underneath it. The magic flowing from it wasn’t dormant like the magical items in the room. It was flowing rapidly, like it was searching for something. A scan of the rest of the room revealed four more of those flowing squares that seemed so out of place now that he could see them.

  Tartum knew they were there but didn’t know what to do to disarm them. He thought about triggering them with one of the many books on the floor, but since they were magical, he didn’t know if that would work. He also had no idea what kind of traps they were, or if by setting them off, they would be disarmed. He also worried that if they went off, they would alert the guards or worse, the bishop himself. Tartum didn’t want to fight him unless he absolutely had too. The voice in the back of his head was trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t figure out what. He knew the answer was there; he just didn’t know what it was! The pressure became too much, and Tartum took a deep breath to calm down. He forced his mind blank, so he could better conce
ntrate on the problem he faced. He let his mind drift a little, and he found himself thinking about his fight with Lord Zahut. He remembered when Uchan died and when Rashlarr had saved his life with the dragon scream spell. Then he remembered how he felt when he thought Rashlarr had died from Zahut’s counter spell…and suddenly the answer came to him.

  Focusing on the closest trap to him, Tartum held out his hand and focused his magic on it. “Dero-dero-dero!” he said, and watched as the three magical pulses shot out from his hand and into the magic flowing inside of the trap. The moment his counter spell hit it, the magic stopped flowing and disappeared from sight. Tartum smiled proudly, as he saw his hunch had proved correct. Silently thanking the voice in his head, Tartum quickly dispelled the rest of the magical traps he found inside the room.

  Walking inside, Tartum felt the delight of being in the room he had been fantasizing about for so long. This was it! This was what he had been hoping for since he joined the guild almost two years ago. Like a starving kid in a candy store, Tartum began stuffing scrolls and spell books into his packs. When those were full, he crammed them into his belt and inside his shirt. He put a few odd looking spell components into hidden compartments inside the sleeves of his robes and slid a few more scrolls into his boots. Filled to bursting Tartum was ready to leave when Jeth and Elizabeth walked cautiously into the room. When they saw what he was doing they gave him a judgmental look and moved towards the desk. Tartum began to feel guilty; in his greed, he had forgotten all about the mission.

  The desk was locked, but Elizabeth was already working on opening it. It looked to be giving her some trouble, and Tartum became anxious.

  “What’s the holdup, babe?” he asked. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet. Too much time had passed, and they needed to get out of there now.

  “Almost got it…just another few seconds…” she said. Suddenly, there was a loud “Snick!” and Elizabeth slumped forward. Tartum practically dove to catch her. She was unconscious and barely breathing; it was all Tartum could do not to panic. He knew what had happened but couldn’t believe she had been so careless! Quickly, Tartum checked her hands for injury; he saw the hole in her palm almost immediately. There was a thick trail of blood pouring out of it. She had triggered a trap that protected the desk and was dying because of her inattentiveness. Tartum desperately began sucking on the wound, trying to get as much of the poison that was killing her out of her system. Something thick and bitter touched his tongue, and he spit it on the floor. He sucked more and more of the bitter fluid out of her hand, but her condition wasn’t improving; if anything, she seemed to be getting worse. Picking her limp body up off the floor, Tartum stood up and began to make for the exit. Jeth stopped him, a grim look on his face.

  “Listen to me, Tartum, we need what is in that desk and nothing is more important than that. Not me, not you, not even Elizabeth! Get into that desk, or she dies for nothing!” he said. His words weren’t meant to be cruel, they were truth, and they tore through Tartum like a spear. He struggled between his mission and his need to save Elizabeth’s life. He knew Jeth was right, and for all he knew, Elizabeth was already dead. He wanted to run, to allow panic to take over so he could stop being responsible for the mission and let raw emotion take over. The voice in the back of his head advised him against that. He didn’t know what to do. He stood three for a moment looking at Jeth and then at Elizabeth. Time seemed to stop as he was forced to make this terrible decision. Fail the mission, but possibly save Elizabeth’s life. Or allow her to die and pick the locked desk, possibly exposing the bishop for the scum bag he was.

  Both options before him involved sacrificing something he didn’t want to give up. Both options made him sick, but he couldn’t think of a third that would grant him all of the benefits with none of the consequences. He couldn’t decide, he wouldn’t decide. He couldn’t let Elizabeth die, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk out of the room with the proof sitting inside a desk a foot away from him. He knew what Jeth wanted him to do, and he hated him for it. Looking at Elizabeth, he began to wonder what she would do if the situation was reversed, and he was the one dying. He remembered how angry she had been when he had suggested leaving. He remembered how she had spat as she rejected his idea of abandoning the mission. He remembered how much he valued her opinion and knew how angry she would be with him if she survived, but the mission failed. Tartum had his answer, but it left him feeling defeated. Handing Elizabeth’s body to Jeth, he went back to the desk to attempt to pick the lock.

  Sending in his tools, he searched around for the tumblers. They had reset after Elizabeth had set off the trap, and he had to start from scratch. There were only five tumblers which he thought was odd. Typically, a common lock had three tumblers in it and was never trapped. A complicated lock, like he expected to find on this desk, had around twenty tumblers inside, and many of them were false or triggers to release sinister traps like the one that was killing Elizabeth. He found it extremely strange that with the amount of money and influence the bishop had at his disposal, he would have such a simple and pathetic lock on a desk that held secrets that would expose him and ruin his life. Tartum was thoroughly confused; none of this made any sense. The bishop had gone to a lot of trouble to construct the false environment of his secret life; he had magically hidden this room and placed half a dozen traps inside to protect a desk that had a lock on it that a child could pick by accident. It was wrong, and the voice in the back of his head was buzzing at him to get away from it.

  The lock was a lie, nothing about it fit. Tartum examined the tumblers once again and noticed none of them were different than the others. This lock wasn’t complicated, it was a trap! Elizabeth hadn’t failed to pick this lock; she had been outsmarted by it. Pulling his lock picks out of the keyhole, Tartum began to search for a hidden keyhole. He recalled the lock he had to pick during his over exam and remembered the hidden compartment that held the true lock he had to pick. Reaching under the desk and feeling around, Tartum’s magically enhanced senses felt something off about one of the knots. It extended, ever so slightly out from the rest of the desk. If it hadn’t been for the magic enhancing his sense of touch, he never would have noticed it. He pushed gently on the knot and felt it shift. With a grunt, Tartum pushed on the knot hard and heard a loud “click!” from multiple areas inside the desk. Reaching up to the first drawer, Tartum pulled on the handle, and it opened smoothly on well-greased tracks. Looking up at Jeth, Tartum was bleak.

  “It was never a lock to begin with. It was a fake; designed to get the individual picking it overexcited and not thinking about the simplicity. Its genius outsmarted Elizabeth; by successfully picking it, the only thing she opened was the trap.” Tartum wanted to cry as he explained everything to Jeth, “Get what you need, I’m getting her out of here.” Tartum said. All feelings of pride or excitement left him as he looked at Elizabeth’s inert form.

  Jeth respectfully handed Elizabeth to him and then began collecting every scrap of paper from desk drawers. Tartum watched him systematically clean out the desk in under a minute. There was a leather binder sitting on top of the desk Tartum hadn’t noticed before. It looked old, and something about it intrigued him. Absently, he picked it up, and he tucked it into his belt amidst the multitude of scrolls and book he already had.

  Jeth jumped up from the desk, his packs bulging from his cargo. “Ok, Jade Mage, Let’s get the hell out of here!” he said. The cheerfulness of his tone made Tartum want to punch him. As far as he was concerned this mission was a failure.

  …

  They raced down the stairs back towards the room they had arrived in. As they passed the golden gate, Jeth silently closed and relocked it to buy them some time. The minute anyone saw the bishop’s room in the state they had left it, the truth would be known and all hell would break loose. They made it back into the guest room and closed the door behind them. Jeth placed a chair against the door and ran over to the window. Looking outside he saw the coast was clear and
Tartum watched as he pulled a rope from out of nowhere. It was a large bundle of tightly wound cord that looked like it might reach the sixty or so yards to the ground.

  “Where the hell did you hide that?” Tartum asked.

  Jeth smirked, “What? You thought you were the only one that had magical toys?”

  Tartum would have laughed if it wasn’t for Elizabeth’s body in his arms. Still, the fact that Jeth said that somehow made him more human in his eyes, and for a moment, he hated him a little less.

  Jeth quickly secured the rope to the bed and threw a few of the heavier pieces of furniture on top of it.

  “Just to be sure it holds our weight.” he told him, with his usual sarcastic grin.

  Jeth tossed the other end of the rope out the window and prepared to shimmy down the side of the tower. Tartum saw a fatal flaw to his plan.

  “What about Elizabeth?” he asked.

  Jeth paused; Tartum could tell he hadn’t thought about that. He looked at her for a moment, and Tartum thought he saw real emotion on his face. It was gone in a flash, and Jeth simply shrugged. “Throw her out the window, she’s already dead; the fall can’t kill her again.” he said.

  The hate he had lost for Jeth a moment ago returned with a vengeance. “If I didn’t need you right now, I’d kill you.” he hissed. His vision began to get red.

  Jeth was indifferent, “Listen, do whatever you want to do with her, but she’s dead and there is no fixing that. We’re alive, and I intend to stay that way! She would want you to do the same, so either throw her out the window, try to climb down with her dead weight on your shoulders, leave her here, try to fight your way out, I don’t care. I’m leaving.” he replied and jumped up on the windowsill.

  Elizabeth moaned and shifted in Tartum’s arms. Tartum and Jeth froze where they were and stared. She wasn’t dead! She was in terrible shape, but there was hope! Looking up at Jeth, he saw he was thinking the same thing and the emotion was back on his face.