“Okay, so the tap doesn’t work,” Umber admitted. “I guess you’ll have to find a way to get into the prefect baths then.” I sighed deeply and brought a palm to my forehead.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.” Moving quickly, I leaped out of the baths and quietly shut the door behind me. I fled into the rose garden, where from a distance I saw the lazy torchlight of the spacious prefect quarters. I slowed my advance and from a quiet craig, carefully began to observe their commons area through a large glass window. Many couches lavishly lay sprawled around a roaring pit fire in the middle of the stone floors. Tucked neatly behind the crowd of half dozen prefects was a delicious looking buffet huddled near the back. To my lack of astonishment, Gregor was the center of this commotion.
“I reckon I’ve got more than enough of a shot at winning that 'Wonderful Knight' thing or whatever it's called,” he said, cracking his knuckles one by one. My heart rose into my throat as I realized that he too had must have made it into the semi-finals. A blonde kid from the far corner of the room snorted loudly.
“You really think you’ve got a chance against Orthonus?” he jeered, carelessly filing his nails.
“Unlike that little punk Jacob, I have a game plan.” Gregor responded loudly. This comment caused some eyebrows to raise among the Grimlar prefects.
“This Jacob kid kept you from promoting. He’s barely even a pronounced trainee and not only did he whip you, but you talk about him so constantly it’s like you’re his lover or something.” This remark was met with loud jeers among the crowd of boys there.”
“Shut... Up...” Gregor said calmly. Moving with careful precision, he slowly withdrew his sword Venom. Gregor strode over to the person who made the remark and gently balanced the blade in the small space between his eyes. All laughter suddenly dissipated. All of the smirks had now withered as fear was splattered into the eyes all staring at Gregor.
“Jacob is no more than a cheat. I have exposed the thoughts of many powerful men and people with more character and strength than he ever will ever have.” Gregor dropped his gaze, but kept his sword pointed to the blonde haired boy, who had now begun to tremble slightly. “I understand that he has also entered this competition. Rest assured, should any moment present itself for me to slaughter him, I will not hold back.” I blinked, and grabbed my chest as if it was about to fall apart. I wanted to vomit, but Umber’s presence held me back.
“When I kill Orthunus---And I will!” Gregor added with a menacing growl. “I'm not going to use a perfectly good wish for any of you slobs.” He forced a loud barking laugh before continuing. “Instead, I'm going to wish myself Caterwaul, just to beat your stupid ass into the ground.” Many terrifying moments of concentrated silence passed with Venom glaring down the scrawny blonde boy. Finally, Gregor withdrew his sword and resheathed it.
“You,” he said while pointing to another kid nearly a head taller than him. “Go make me a bath.”
Another moment passed. I desperately hoped that the prefect would refuse. “Now,” Gregor commanded and like a scared little rat, the heavy prefect scurried off to tend to his bath. Taking to the shadows, I followed behind. The prefect baths were about twenty meters away from the common room, just as large as the trainee baths and about three times as nice. Peeking in through one of the windows, I could see the interior was lined with magnificent royal blue tiles and littered with stubby looking candles. The large trainee from before appeared considerably more sulky and dangerous now that he wasn’t being threatened at sword point.
“Small little runt of a kid bossing me around, humph!” he exclaimed angrily. Yet as soon as he had said this, all of his anger evaporated. He whipped around as if expecting Gregor to be right behind him. When he realized the coast was clear, he rubbed his forehead in embarrassment and set off once again.
“What is it that makes that little thug so scary anyways? His anti-magic? He could torture us in his sleep if he wanted too. It doesn't even leave a mark and it’s still probably more painful than anything else out there. That Jacob kid resisted though and managed to put him away for a bit,” he laughed quietly to himself. “I know I'd take an encounter with the Caterwaul just to show up that little--” He quickly turned on the spot again and sighed with relief when he realized Gregor was nowhere in sight. Despite himself, it appeared he didn't have the heart to finish the sentence.
The large prefect was pumping water at a startling rate, splashing water everywhere in an attempt to fill the bath as quickly as possible. It would only be a few more minutes at best before the tub would be filled. The question was, how could I swipe it? “Should I make a distraction?” I thought to myself? “What would be the best? Screaming? Throwing rocks? General noise? I didn’t want to do anything too drastic. What could I knock him out with if I were to? There were a few large rocks around, but that might cause serious damage and I wanted to be as anonymous as possible.
“Mortal, you’re overthinking everything,” Umber sighed from behind me. “This prefect will eventually have to get Gregor. It's a steep path to the quarters, so it’s obviously going take him a minute or two. That’s more than enough time to sneak in, throw in a bead and leave.” I looked at him briefly and gritted my teeth.
“I should have thought of that,” I replied glumly.
“We can talk about your intelligence later when we’re safe,” Umber explained sharply. “Just pay attention.” After tossing in one last bucketful of steaming water, the large prefect calmly patted his sweaty brow and stumbled off to find Gregor. I leapt in through the window and almost snagged a piece of my armour on the windowsill. I slammed the door of the baths shut, quickly locked them, and threw a single bearing bomb into the bath before me. Surprisingly, the small little object seemed to practically boil the clear steamy liquid before simmering down and turning the entire bath into a relaxing shade of lavender. I waited for awhile before anxiety began to flutter within my stomach. I lifted my trembling hand up to the fingalink ring. “Professor Wenchenberg, What's taking you so long?” I began to hear distant footsteps.
“Professor Wenchenberg sir! What is taking you so long?!” I whispered at almost a shouts volume.
“Why is the door closed?” Gregor’s eerily muffled voice asked from beyond the locked door.
“Dunno,” Said the puzzled voice that followed. “I'll just leave you to your bath.” The locks on the door rattled suddenly.
My stomach knotted twice. No exit except for... The window! Of course! Practically tearing myself to pieces, I hopped out of the room and hid behind the bushes.
“This is bad.” My entire body began to act of its own accord and was now violently jerking out of fear. “Very, very, bad.” I repeated to myself in a blind panic.
“Keep still, they haven’t gotten in yet!” Umber insisted.
“You filthy moron! You locked it!” I heard a smack of the cheek, followed by a loud simpering whimper from the other prefect. The door began to quiver unexpectedly, as with powerful booms, Gregor began to kick it down. After five large strikes, the lock shattered and the door was flung open. I looked inside and to my horror, saw that the bath had now turned a bright shade of green. Gregor stepped inside and stared at the liquid completely dumbstruck.
I raised my hands in desperation however Umber stopped me. “I have an idea that might work,” Umber insisted. “Just wait.”
Gregor rounded on the prefect to his left. “Garth... Why exactly is my bath... green?”
The expression on Garth's face was not too different than my own.
Gregor sniffed loudly. “Did you perhaps add bath beads Garth?”
The large trainee didn’t seem to hear him.
Gregor looked him directly in the eye and repeated the question.
Out of fear alone, Garth nodded.
Gregor folded his arms, and sighed deeply. “I have made this point clear multiple times. Under no circumstances do I want my bath to be scented.” Gregor took another whiff of the bath. “Especially when it
smells this bad.” He slapped Garth a second time. “Make me another one and don’t bother me until it’s perfect.” Gregor stormed out, and Garth immediately lurched for the drain.
“Trip him!” Umber shouted unexpectedly. I shot my hands out, and immediately a small amount of the floor rose beneath Garth’s foot. Garth slipped on the wet tiled floor and in startled confusion, fell head first into the ground. I waited in frozen tranquility for a few seconds, not believing my good fortune. It seemed that just by startling the great buffoon I had managed to knock him cold.
“Distortion anti-magic,” I whispered to myself happily. “What a gift.” Waiting a few seconds to make sure the coast was clear, I hobbled inside and gazed at the surface of the green water, which was now so clouded, you couldn’t see the bottom of the tub. If you caught the light at just the right angle, you could almost see a reflection. However the ceiling reflected in the image was not the same somehow. It was as if I was seeing the room reflected through a cut gem.
Just as I was about to jump in, I stopped and turned to face Umber. “Is he going to be all right?” I wondered, gesturing to the comatose prefect.
Umber looked over me with exhausted patience. “I’m confident that the Grimlars will be able to fix him,” he replied casually. “Just shut up and get in.”
I slowly eased my right foot in, submerging myself and my armor completely. I admit, I did feel immensely silly throughout the process. I wondered to myself what would happen if Gregor were to storm in. What a scene it would be; finding Garth knocked out and myself, fully clothed in his bright green bath. The water around me began to fizz slightly in a relaxing sort of way. I noticed suddenly that the walls of the tub were dissolving around me. Alarmed, I tried to clamber out, but it wasn't any good. There simply wasn’t anything around me to lift myself up.
My foot touched something close to the consistency of wet sand about a meter and a half down, but it quickly sank beneath my feet leaving me to thrash in a blind confusion. Fully submerged now, I looked underneath the surface and gasped. Nothing was there. No side of the tub, no bottom of the tub. How deep did this pool go? The water around me was bubbling violently now, shaking the entire foundations of the bathroom. The force of the boiling was swinging the chandelier, breaking faucets, and shattering mirrors, yet amazingly I still remained intact. The water exploded from around me, and melted everything it touched with a sickening fizz. The entire scene before me dissolved into inky darkness.
If anything that day I learned that thrashing around in a pond of corrosive bathwater is surprisingly difficult with a suit of armor. Amidst all of the panic, I quietly wished I that had packed lighter. Time seemed to hold no value as I watched droplet after droplet slow down in mid air. I reached out to touch one, but it began to fall through my fingers just as the other ones did. The entire process was now beginning to reverse itself.
The bath water went clear and much to my amazement, scenery began to take shape. Evaporated steam condensed into the walls around me, but they weren’t quite the same. The floors solidifying beside me weren’t made out of the same blue tile from earlier and were instead crafted with stunning white stone. I could feel the bottom of a bathtub again, pushing my entire body upward.
A thin pink mist suddenly condensed a deep red solid, and was wrapped tightly with tanned skin. It started out smooth, but immediately wrinkled like grapes drying out in heat. Clothes sewed themselves onto the strange figure, and with a jolt of realization I realized the object was professor Wenchenberg, with the last touch on his person being the added bit of grey in his matted black hair. The water around me suddenly evaporated, leaving nothing behind but a faint smell of rotten eggs and rancid lavender. Gasping in desperation, I flung myself out of the bath and onto the hard cold tiles.
“Welcome Jacob. How did you find it?” the professor's voice echoed out to me. He lifted me up and set me onto my feet. As he did so I could feel my stomach doing a fair impression of a dying snake. I coughed weakly and suddenly felt a surge of liquid rising through my throat. The professor must have noticed this as well, because he handed me a brass bucket and politely turned his attention elsewhere, letting me empty my contents in peace.
“It was revolting,” I moaned in between gasps. “Perhaps next time you could warn me how demanding the travel conditions are.” My eyes cracked open and I gasped, unable to comprehend quite possibly the nicest living space I had ever seen.
The bath area alone was littered with what could have only been a royal amount of gold trimmings. Marzipan like marble columns held up the room, highlighted by the half drawn violet curtains standing beside the spacious spa. Through an arch leading into the main living area, I could see an exuberant heavy stone fireplace which accompanied the soft cloud like carpeting and fluffy white feather bed. A rounded Ivory-oak table presented a wide variety of silver platters which each hosted a delectable looking pastry. The entire space was clean to the extent where I felt that just being there was dirtying up the area. By looking at the height of life the elders were accustomed to, I immediately became conscious of every insignificant fault about me: The dirt on my boots would no doubt stain the carpet. the metal nubs on my armour could quite possibly scratch the leather chairs.
“Are you even listening to yourself!?” Umber inquired angrily. “You’re in quite possibly one of the most dangerous places in all of the world. Why would you care about furnature?” I bit my lower lip and bore my gaze down at the eyes of Umber.
“Personally, I care about the possessions of the professor,” I replied proudly. “While I understand we’re in danger, I will not use this as an excuse to ruin his belongings.
Umber rolled his eyes and diverted his attention elsewhere. The quality of the room alone made me wonder why on earth Wenchenberg would ever want to leave the facilities.
“My apologies for not being able to fill my tub as quickly as anticipated. I got held up by an encounter with one of the other instructors.” Professor Wenchenberg looked over my face carefully. “I trust everything still went to plan?” I smiled half heartedly.
“Umber and I did have to make some detours along the way, but I can assure you we were not seen.” The professor smiled warmly at this comment, and directed me over to a nearby table where he spread the map out from before. Just as he was about to speak, my stomach suddenly grumbled powerfully. The professor looked over his shoulder and gave me a knowing look.
“I imagine you'll be hungry in no time,” he said, pointing towards the copper bucket. “When you have, you may help yourself to anything you feel you might enjoy within the room.” I quietly claimed a cinnamon bun while the professor cleared his throat and began to speak with his usual conversational dialect. “During the course of the last month, as you will remember we worked on mimicking objects.” The professor paused for effect. “Tonight, using our combined powers, you will be taking my place as a mimicked professor Wenchenberg.”
“That’s mad!” I declared, nearly choking on my pastry. “You said it yourself, that the larger the object the more difficult it is to mimic! It’s going to be impossible for me to take your form!”
“Which is why I’m going to be doing it for you,” the professor insisted grandly. “I will stay here, locked in this room, focusing all of my anti-magic on keeping you mimicked as me.” I raised my hand in protest.
“But the further away I get, the more difficult It will be for you to keep the spell intact!” The professor nodded in agreement.
“True. As such I ask that you donate a small reserve of your own anti-magic should you feel the spell begin to waver.” I sighed and pressed both of my palms into my hands.
“I was wrong,” I admitted sadly. “This plan is even more mad than I thought.”
“Which is why it might just work,” the professor insisted with confidence. “Your task now is to do whatever it is you feel you need to do, in the shortest amount of time before hiding here.” I glanced at the spot where professor Wenchenberg jabbed his finger. The are
a he had marked was an obscure custodian closet next to the library.” I stared at the map with a moderate amount of confusion.
“Why do I have to go to a broom cupboard? Why can’t I just go straight into the dungeons?”
The professor smiled at my exacerbation. For someone who was putting lives on the line he looked extraordinarily calm.
“I myself do not trust my anti-magic,” the professor admitted bashfully. “In this circumstance, I depend on it, but it’s much more likely to work when we’re in closer proximity to each other.” Noticing my confused expression, the professor pinched his chin whiskers and reconsidered his explanation.
“Think of this stop as a checkpoint in a running race. Only one of us is able to move at a time, so you hide here and then suddenly I am mobile once again. I will move to your side, and we can repeat the process, eventually sneaking you into the dungeons.” I nodded, although the professor didn’t seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm.
Gift of Gold (The Year of Churning Bloods) Page 21