“That's enough,” she said with a wide smile before pointing toward another section of the page. “Can you read those words?”
“I can,” he nodded. “But, they're nonsense.”
“Read them anyway.”
He immediately obeyed; intoning a series of words that sounded to Paul like complete and total gibberish.
“Okay,” Joey said, glancing around just above his head, “that's weird. I'm seeing stars now.”
“I'm seeing them, too,” Paul replied.
“That's because Joey just cast a spell,” Myra asserted.
“Seriously?” both Paul and Joey asked simultaneously.
“Absolutely,” she nodded.
“So, I'm like a wizard or something?” Joey asked, gazing at the fair maiden from under a single raised eyebrow.
“Hardly that,” she laughed. “That's just a spell we teach children when they're first starting to learn magic. But, it's amazing that you can read the runes and that you're already skilled enough to cast any spell at all. Given those facts, I feel confident that you could become a wizard, given time and training.”
“That could be the real reason you're here,” Alena suggested, as she and Darek stepped over to join the conversation. “Maybe you're supposed to do more than just keep narrowly dodging death for us.”
“You really think so?” Joey asked.
“No,” she admitted with a sigh, “but, I thought the idea might make you feel better.”
“Well, thank you.”
“Either way,” Darek said, “you should try to learn what you can. More magic would be a big help.”
“What are you all talking about?” Nyssa asked; she and Sarrac having just made their way back to the glen.
“Joey can use magic,” Darek replied, glancing at the fairy over his shoulder.
“Can he?” she asked, flying up to stare at the young man. “I've never seen him use any.”
Immediately, Joey recited the mystical words once more.
“Well, that's interesting,” she admitted, gazing at one of the twinkling white lights that appeared momentarily above the young man's head.
“I feel dizzy,” he said, raising his hand and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“That's normal,” Nyssa assured him. “Or, it would be if you were four or five years old. I guess that, when it comes to using magic, you're basically a child. Still, if you practice, you'll be able to use more without getting sick.”
“No thanks,” Joey replied. “This is too weird. I don't want to be a wizard. I think I'm more cut out to be a fighter.”
“Well, you've got another think coming,” Darek asserted, shaking his head, “If there's one thing I'm positive you're not cut out to be, it's a fighter.”
“You ever play D&D?” Joey asked, his eyes locked on Darek's.
“No,” he replied. “But, Paul's told me a bit about it.”
“I see,” Joey nodded. “Well, either way, I ain't gonna be no wizard.”
“That's fine,” Alena replied. “You make a great target already.”
“That's a point,” Joey ceded with a sigh.
“Look, bro, we've all got our talents,” Paul said encouragingly. “In Zanoth, yours may be using magic. I say embrace it.”
“I agree,” Sarrac added, gazing down at Joey with a wide smile. “For one thing, I have a hard time accepting the idea that The Administrator sent you here merely to throw your body between us and death again and again. If you were to learn the art of the arcane, you might be of great help to our cause.”
“I guess...” the young man replied slowly. “Just for the sake of argument, what would be the next step if I wanted to try?”
“Study,” Myra smiled. “The Spells of Nimras is actually a really good book for beginners. It'll give you the basics, although you probably won't be able to do much for a while.”
“I'll suppose I'll try,” Joey replied. “But, I still want to practice swordplay. I'm not just gonna be some geek wizard while Paul gets to be this awesome paladin.”
“So, you think people who use spells are geeks?” Nyssa asked defensively.
“Not women!” he instantly exclaimed. “In fact, ladies that cast spells strike me as extremely attractive.”
“So, you don't think of me or Myra as geeks then?”
“Not in the least!”
“Good,” she smiled. “What is a geek exactly?”
“That doesn't matter,” Paul asserted. “What does matter, however, is getting to Kafmara as soon as possible.”
“True,” Sarrac nodded. “If we hurry, I think there's a fair chance we can finish before the sun sets.”
“Let's hurry then,” Paul smiled.
And, hurry they did. Joey carefully set his newly acquired spell book aside and once again joined his companions in the task of sorting and packing. Perhaps half an hour before the sun set, the glade was empty and the vault far more filled.
“Is this the last of it?” Sarrac asked, lifting a large sack filled with armor from the ground.
“Looks that way,” Alena replied with a smile.
“Alright,” the ogre nodded. “Well then, that brings us to a decision. Do we want to spend the night here or move the vault to Kafmara immediately?”
“Why wait?” Paul asked.
“Simply because this is one of the last safe places left in Zanoth,” Sarrac explained. “We're not likely to get much done tonight in any case, so moving the vault now may be premature.”
“Maybe,” Darek replied, “but, I don't think so. We'll need time to arm the warriors and, obviously, we should attack during daylight if at all possible. Lord Grathis has seriously bolstered the forces inside the city since we were there last. Sunlight will keep any specters, shades, or shadows serving in the garrison at bay - at least temporarily. Not to mention the fact that we could even end up facing vampires.”
“That's certainly true,” Myra agreed. “Beginning our attack in the morning will give us as much time as possible to divide and conquer.”
“So, if we stay here we'll lose a night,” Darek continued. “On the other hand, if we go ahead and move the vault and make contact with Gregory, he can start distributing equipment immediately. We might even be able to attack the garrison first thing tomorrow.”
“Will that give Thaelen enough time to get into position?” the ogre asked.
“It'll have to,” Darek replied with a nod. “I don't see how any good can come from waiting.”
“I agree,” Paul added. “People are dying and the faster we move, the more we can save.”
“Alright then,” Nyssa replied with a smile. “Let's get moving.”
Having said this, she reached out and grabbed Sarrac by the shoulder. The pair vanished instantly.
“The rest of you; get as close to the vault as you can without being seen,” the fairy's disembodied voice requested. “I'll come back for you one by one.”
In response, the companions immediately began following what they assumed were Sarrac's large feet passing through the lush grass that filled the little glade. Slowly and cautiously, they crept toward the edge of the wood nearest the door of the vault and stretched themselves out on the ground; doing their best to remain hidden from the undead horde that stood just beyond the portal.
Although Paul had seen it before, he was still amazed by the doorway that stood on the very outskirts of the well. The interior of the vault was clearly visible, the failing light glinting off the swords, shields, and other equipment that filled the structure. But, the doorway stood alone on the dark, stone covered ground without so much as a wall to support it. Zombies, along with skeletons armed with bows, meandered around the entrance; seeming to disappear if they stepped behind the magical gateway, only to appear seconds later on the other side of the unnatural portal.
As he lay there, carefully watching the door, he considered the fact that they were very fortunate that these particular undead weren't especially intelligent or observant. He could eas
ily make out where Sarrac was walking. With every step he took, small patches of grass were pushed to one side or the other. This effect was even more noticeable because of the slight breeze that seemed to incessantly blow across the well. Whereas most of the vegetation fluttered gently in the same direction, Sarrac's presence altered the pattern, making it very obvious that something was there; even if you couldn't see it.
Of course, on the other hand, the mindless monsters were obviously trying to keep watch over the entire area. And, although it's rather easy to spot something when you know exactly where and when to look, it's quite another to notice some minor incongruous detail that you don't even know you should be looking for. Plus, the undead almost certainly had no idea that the band had found a way to make themselves invisible. That thought struck the young man as a life lesson: always expect the unexpected. Especially in Zanoth.
Still, whatever the reason, it was very good news for the party that the undead did not - either literally or figuratively - see them coming. It was with an internal sigh of relief that Paul observed Sarrac suddenly appear within the confines of the vault. Mere moments after this event, Nyssa returned and began leading Myra, quite invisibly, toward the open doorway. In fewer than ten minutes, the remaining members of the band were all safely inside - with the exception of Paul, who had elected to go last.
“This is awesome,” the young man observed as he and Nyssa made their way toward the vault.
“Yes, it is,” she whispered, “but, keep in mind that they can still hear us.”
“Good point,” he nodded before falling completely silent.
He gazed down at where his feet should have been and watched in utter amazement as his steps pushed the vegetation to the ground. Although he had certainly observed this effect countless times before, it was a very new experience to see what the grass looked like under his feet as he was standing on it. After a bit of consideration, he closed his eyes only to find that he could see through his eyelids. This experiment concluded, he put his hands over his face and observed the same result.
“How do you deal with this?” he whispered. “I'm having a hard time not tripping over my own feet.”
“I fly,” she responded quietly.
“I know. I mean; how do you deal with not being able to see yourself?”
“I can.”
“Can you see me?”
“Of course.”
“Then, why can't I see me?”
“I made you invisible,” she replied with a quiet giggle. “Don't you remember?”
“Obviously,” he said, shaking his head. “What I'm asking is: why is it that you can see me, but I can't?”
“Because I made you invisible.”
“I guess that makes sense,” he replied softly. “But, is there anything you can do about it? Not being able to see my feet is really weird. I mean, I literally can't see where I'm walking and one misstep could...”
The young man's thought was interrupted at that moment by his accidentally putting his foot into a small divot covered by the tall grass. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't have proven a problem. Although Paul certainly wasn't the human ideal when it came to perfect balance, he wasn't one to fall flat on his face over a single slip. His own invisibility, however, agitated the situation and caused him to misjudge his next step. As a result, he managed to kick the back of his right calf with his left foot as he attempted to regain his footing. This caused him to tumble, quite visibly, onto the ground in front of him.
Instantly, the undead guarding the portal began screaming in rage as Paul once again vanished from sight. As he leapt to his feet with the fairy's hand on his shoulder, an abundance of black fletched arrows began flying in his direction. He decided, under the circumstances, that it would be wisest to trust to speed rather than stealth. For one thing, his enemies already knew roughly where he was and it was probably only a matter of time before a lucky shot hit him in the head.
Having come to this decision, he burst into a sprint; becoming visible for a fraction of a second before vanishing once again. As arrows rained down from the sky, filling the space of ground he had recently occupied, the young man appeared and disappeared time and again as he jerked from one side to the other, doing his best to dash toward the door in a serpentine fashion.
More than one arrow seemed to come to a stop mid-air during the young man's flight, as it bounced harmlessly off the temporarily invisible plate mail that encased him. In the depths of his soul, Paul thanked whoever it was who had originally placed his armor in the vault for him to find. He wasn't sure exactly how they'd managed it, but he was positive they'd saved his life on more than one occasion. The young man accepted the fact that he might never know who his benefactor was, but sincerely hoped they were aware of his gratitude wherever they were - in this life or the next.
With this thought in mind, he stepped quickly to the right, dodging an arrow flying straight toward his face and flashed back into view. Fractions of a second later, he felt a pair of tiny hands seize him firmly by the hair on the back of his neck. Instantly, he vanished from sight again; this time remaining invisible in spite of the rather extreme maneuvers he was making to avoid his enemy's deadly darts. The moment he crossed the threshold, Nyssa released her grasp and Paul fell to his knees panting.
The undead guardians were driven into a frenzy by seeing their enemies so near at hand and yet so completely out of reach. As a result, several of them attempted make their way into the vault, only to burst into flames as they stepped upon the sacred ground surrounding the well. In less than a minute, these pointless attacks subsided; leaving the party both united and out of harm's reach.
“You alright, bro?” Joey asked with a look of concern on his face.
“I'm alright,” Paul replied between breaths.
“Nyssa?”
“I'm fine,” she replied with a smile.
“Good!” Joey exclaimed, bursting out laughing. “Because that may have been the funniest thing I've ever personally witnessed! I wish you could have seen yourself! No, in fact, I wish I could have recorded it! Seeing you dodge and duck and appear and vanish, all the time with this look of terror on your face… It was epic!”
“I'm glad it amused you,” Paul replied, gazing up at his friend with a look of mild disdain before climbing to his feet.
“Oh, it did!” he continued. “And, for good reason. It was fate giving you a taste of your own medicine.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Well, since we got here, I've had to be the clown while you got to be the hero,” Joey explained. “All my getting shot and blown up, all my falling off horses and spraining my wrists, and finding out I'm a wizard instead of a god of war or something was all made up for in that one moment when you tripped like that. Especially with your girl having such a perfect vantage point! Tell the truth, Myra; you thought it was hilarious didn't you?”
“I might have,” she confessed, “if my heart hadn't been in my throat.”
At this response, Paul shot her a knowing grin.
“Well, sure!” Joey agreed. “At the moment, it was terrifying; but, now that it's passed, you have to admit it was pretty funny seeing Paul fall flat on his face in the grass. He didn't even have time to put his arms out.”
Having said this, Joey managed to perform an almost perfect rendition of the action; soliciting laughter from most of the band, including Paul himself. Encouraged by this response, the young man continued the imitation of his friend; pretending to duck and dodge, all the while making ridiculous faces. However, his mirth was suddenly interrupted by Sarrac, who had started wandering through the vault as soon as he was certain his companions were safe.
“Joey, Paul,” he cried, “come take a look at this.”
Immediately, the pair made their way to where the ogre stood before one of the many racks of equipment that filled the vault.
“What do you think of that?” the ogre asked, pointing to a small silver plate with the name Jo
seph Victor Matthews etched upon it.
The stand held a long staff of black metal, crowned with a magnificent blue gemstone, as well as a robe of rich red cloth.
“I'd say those belonged to Joey,” Paul said.
“I'd agree,” Sarrac nodded.
“Oh, no,” Joey replied, shaking his head. “No way.”
“Look, bro,” Paul said, turning to face his friend, “remember how I told you this was my armor, as in, it was given to me.”
“Sure.”
“Well, this is how I got it,” the young man explained. “It was on a rack in this very vault with my name written on a plate beneath it, just like this.”
“Uhhh,” Joey replied with a sigh, hanging his head on his chest. “I knew it. I mean; I knew better than to make fun of you. But, fate let me do it. It was just setting me up for this and I fell right into it. Now, I can't even complain because I brought it on myself.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean?!” he exclaimed. “I mean that you come in here and get some awesome armor and this boss sword...”
“I got the sword somewhere else,” Paul interrupted.
“Whatever!” Joey replied. “The point is that, instead of something cool like that, I get a bejeweled walking stick and a red dress!”
“It's not a dress,” the paladin pointed out, unable to keep himself from chuckling.
“He's right,” Myra asserted, having come up behind the trio. “It's a robe, and it's obviously magical. I feel certain it will protect you far better than that armor you're wearing.”
“Too bad,” Joey replied, shaking his head, “'cause I ain't wearing it.”
“You should,” she said. “Not only might it help keep you alive, it could even increase your power. And, that staff certainly will.”
“You know, it figures,” he replied, shaking his head and taking the staff and robe from the rack. “I mean; it just figures. You get to be this knight in shining armor and I have to be the lady in red.”
“Well, at least you like that song,” Paul said encouragingly.
“Oh, yeah!” Joey replied sarcastically. “That makes me feel much better.”
“Go ahead and get changed,” Paul smiled. “While you're doing that, Nyssa and Myra can start working to move the vault.”
The Fortress of Donmar (The Tales of Zanoth Book 2) Page 9