Dagdron and Earl made their way slowly down the staircase, keeping watch for anything sinister. Not touching anything, they cautiously neared the altar. The cover of the book was mottled and stained with red splotches that looked like blood. There was a blue arch that sparkled just like the real crystals. “Avooblis” rounded the curve of the arch on the book.
Dagdron unhurriedly stretched out his hand toward the book.
“I don’t know, Dagdron, I don’t know,” Earl said, his voice high-pitched with fear. “This place doesn’t feel right.”
Dagdron’s arm froze, but then it started forward again. Just as he was about to flip the cover open, he darted his hand back as blue lightning struck in the stone arch to the left. The bolts eventually calmed into a sheet of blue light, and a figure stepped out of the archway.
The ancient, hunchbacked man was wearing a ragged brown cloak. His bald head was mottled and his face wrinkly. His gaze fell directly on Dagdron and Earl. He appeared to smile at the boys, but it came off unbelievably creepy.
“Welcome to the Shrine of Avooblis,” the wizard said. “Interested in the Avooblis, are we?”
Chapter 11: Mandrake Root Powder
“Yes,” Dagdron replied.
“I wouldn’t touch that book if I were you,” the man said, noticing Dagdron’s close proximity to the altar. “Many mighty minds have been seared from delving into its pages.”
Earl, grabbing ahold of Dagdron’s shoulders, moved both of them two steps away from the altar. The warrior, standing behind Dagdron, placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Feel free to unsheathe your sword,” the old man said. “I’m not corporeal, so it can’t harm me.” He moved next to the altar and demonstrated by passing his hand through the stone.
“Are you Avooblis?” Earl asked, relaxing his arm.
“Speak not such blasphemy,” the aged figure said. “I am Mazannanan, the Wizard of Avooblis, his devoted follower.”
“We’ve heard of you,” Dagdron said, remembering the mention from Wendahl. “We’re here to learn all about you and the Arches of Avooblis.”
“I can tell you all about myself, and I can teach you all the knowledge that exists about Avooblis,” Mazannanan said. “But, first, you must fulfill a quest for me.”
“What quest?” Earl asked, stiffening up nervously.
“I need mandrake root powder,” Mazannanan said. When Dagdron and Earl glanced at the bottles on the shelves against the wall below the stairs, the enchanter shook his head. “Those stores do not hold any. And I need it fresh. Bring the plant to me and I will instruct you on how to properly convert it into powder. Be sure to pluck the plant at midnight. Any other time will render the roots useless. Summon me only once you retrieve it. Only then will I answer your questions.”
Dagdron and Earl, although desirous of more information on where to find mandrake root, never got a chance to ask since the wizard glided swiftly to the left arch and disappeared. The blue light extinguished along with him, leaving the archway empty once more.
“This isn’t good,” Earl said as he and Dagdron walked around the room freely now that the wizard was gone, though very careful not to touch the book on the altar or any of the jars on the shelves. They examined each of the arches up close and Dagdron, much to Earl’s chagrin, passed through one of them to see what would happen. Nothing did.
“What is mandrake root?” Dagdron asked when they were heading up the stairs.
“I don’t know, but it sounds evil,” Earl said. “Plucking anything at midnight can’t be a good idea.”
“Forget about that,” Dagdron replied. “It means we’re going to have to ask for the wench’s help again.”
* * *
The second week of September, Dagdron crept down the corridor of the second floor of the boys’ tower, moving amongst the shadows. By now, he felt sure most of the adventurers would be asleep, but he still snuck as stealthily as possible. Before a week ago, he hadn’t cared what rooms others students were in, but, over the last week, he had observed and made note of every room that housed a warrior. Naturally reaching for his pocket when he arrived at the first bedroom door on his list, he didn’t pull out his lock pick because the door opened just by pushing it. This would make his “payback quests,” as Dagdron had been referring to them, much easier. Very few of the warrior adventurers locked their doors, Dagdron had observed.
Dagdron entered, letting his eyes adjust to the settings and seeing the mess of objects all over the floor. He had thought most warriors would worry about their cleanliness, since most seemed to always be shining their swords and making sure their boots and armor were spotless. That must just be Earl, he realized.
Dagdron dropped to his hands and knees, crawling over the clothes and other possessions until he was in the middle of the room. In the darkness, he picked out the shape of the two warriors’ boots on the side of their beds. Not wanting to be too conspicuous, Dagdron only slit through the bottom few rows of shoelaces. The looseness might give them less support and more discomfort, he hoped, and at the very least, they would have to buy new laces.
After, the rogue crawled to the nearest desk, scanning the shape of the objects. He couldn’t identify anything very valuable, so he snatched a square object and left the room.
“A worthless whetstone,” Dagdron grumbled, upset. He walked swiftly and silently to his bedroom and slid the stone under Earl’s bed before falling asleep on the floor.
The following afternoon, Dagdron was already lounging in his tree when Earl showed up after classes. His smile was different somehow, Dagdron thought. He climbed down the tree and the warrior grinned more broadly.
“Do you have any idea why I wasn’t the only one tripping over my boots in class today?” Earl asked.
“No.”
“I know you cut Brandt’s and Lance’s bootlaces.”
“What does that have to do with them tripping?”
“A warrior needs firm support while fighting. They were off balance all class period.”
“Better than I expected.”
“I am not saying I approve,” Earl said, though unsuccessfully wiping the smile from his face.
“Don’t worry. I’m not tallying my payback quests.” Dagdron motioned to his tree.
“You know that’s not what I mean. Did you by chance steal Brandt’s whetstone? They were arguing about it today too.”
“Of course. I put it under your bed.”
“Dagdron!” Earl exclaimed.
“Don’t you want it? You had three of them in your pack all summer.”
“I don’t want stolen goods in our room.”
“I’ll give it to Grizzard. His dagger needs sharpening. And, speaking of Grizzard, can we talk to Elloriana yet?”
“I don’t know,” Earl said, nervously tapping on his sword hilt.
Dagdron was doing his best to keep his promise not to deal with the Arches of Avooblis behind Earl’s back, but he was getting impatient. Earl was very hesitant to involve Elloriana in the first place but, when they had gone earlier in the week to ask Grizzard about mandrake root, Earl had become even more diffident.
“Into the dark stuff so soon, eh, sonny and rich sonny,” Grizzard had said. “I never messed with mandrake root myself, but they say a baby dies each time the plant is plucked.”
Earl, who had taken a while to be calm around Grizzard in the first place, had basically rushed Dagdron out of the alleyway and back to the academy.
“I’m not just stalling you. I promise,” Earl said. “Mandrake root must be a really evil plant. We couldn’t even find mention of it in the magic-user library. That means it must be in the dark books that Enchantress Higgins keeps locked up.”
“Where has the rich wench been?” Dagdron asked. He didn’t mind, but Elloriana hadn’t been studying below the tree like she usually did.
“From what I’ve heard,” Earl said, lowering his voice. “So they’re not a bad example for the first years, Headmaster Gwauld
ron is letting them use one of the special rooms at the top of the girls’ tower to study and socialize. I’m worried that Elloriana might really be falling for Byron.”
“Really?”
“Maybe. I think the headmaster is pushing it, because he doesn’t want to deal with the backlash if Elloriana becomes an adventurer. If she falls for Byron, then maybe she’ll accept being a princess, and King and Queen Loftloomburg won’t be upset.”
“It’s time,” Dagdron said. “There’s no way we can sneak into that magic lady’s office if it’s magically sealed.”
“Her name is Enchantress Higgins, but you’re right. Next time I see Lita, I’ll ask her to tell Elloriana we need to talk to her.”
“Why didn’t you ask me before? Of course I know what mandrake root is,” Elloriana said.
The princess had showed up at the tree two nights later. She was even snootier than before, Dagdron thought. Earl was in shock that she already knew about the plant.
“Where can we get some?” Dagdron asked.
“You want some?” Elloriana said, surprised.
“Why else would we ask about it?”
“It’s just that...”
“Princess Elloriana, we already know it’s along the lines of dark magic,” Earl said. “How do you know about it?”
“That’s not important,” Elloriana replied.
“Byron is taking the wench into the dark,” Dagdron said to Earl.
The rogue kept his face blank, but Earl couldn’t help smiling.
“Earl, have you by any chance been telling people that Byron and I are socializing in secret?” Elloriana glared at the warrior, wiping the smile quickly from his face.
“I’ve overheard a few things,” Earl said, somewhat sheepishly.
“I’m doing this for Lordavia,” Elloriana said, looking up at the dark sky. “I will tell you about mandrake root if you let me back in on the quest.”
“We never kicked you out,” Earl said sympathetically. “You’ve just been so busy with Byron.”
“I know and I need a break from him. He’s so repulsive.”
“We need to know where to find it,” Dagdron said. “We already know to pick it at midnight and that a baby will die.”
“I will tell you, but I’m going with you,” Elloriana said.
“Fine, the wench can come.”
“Cemeteries are the best places to find mandrake. The one in Bodaburg isn’t very big, though.”
“Cancel your date with Byron,” Dagdron said. “We’re going tonight at midnight.”
Dagdron, Earl, Elloriana, and Lita, who Earl had been sure to invite, walked briskly down the pathway to Bodaburg. The rogue and fighters climbed over the city gate, while Elloriana used a levitation spell to float over. They knew the way to the graveyard since it was close to Mercer’s house, so they hurried there. At the gate of the cemetery, Earl lit one of the torches he had brought, so that he, Lita, and Elloriana could see better. Dagdron, used to moving in the dark, walked a few paces away from them, using the light from the moon and stars to see.
“We should’ve looked for it in the light first,” Elloriana said. “We don’t even know if a mandrake is growing here.”
“Stop complaining, wench,” Dagdron said. “You’re the one who delayed us.”
“We have to hurry,” Earl said. “We only have half an hour until midnight.”
They scoured the graveyard, looking for the red leaves that Elloriana had described to them. The Bodaburg cemetery wasn’t well cared for. The grass was long and thick, and even some of the newer tombstones were broken.
“We need to spread out more,” Elloriana said. “Light the other torches.”
Earl reluctantly followed her orders, giving a torch to the princess and Lita. The four adventurers separated to cover more ground. Dagdron, not seeing anything in plain sight, was taking time to move the crumbled parts of old gravestones to see if mandrake had grown in the spaces in between.
“Found it,” Elloriana called.
Dagdron saw her in the far corner, so he headed in her direction. Earl and Lita, not hearing her, continued searching on the opposite side of the graveyard.
Elloriana was holding her torch so the flames lit up the blood red plant that was growing among the tall grass close to the fence.
“Dagdron, what do you guys need the mandrake for?” Elloriana said, talking in a more sincere voice than she was accustomed to using. “It really can be a dangerous plant.”
“We don’t know yet,” Dagdron replied. He crouched down, ready to pluck the plant, when Elloriana screamed.
A figure had darted out from behind a tombstone, knocking her to the ground. Her head hit a crumbled piece of a headstone, and she didn’t move. The torch flew out of her hand, falling in the grass. Dagdron, back to his feet in no time, whipped out his dagger as the torchlight lit up Kemp. The once well-dressed warrior was now in shambles. His clothes were ripped in multiple places, his blond hair was wild, and his eyes were crazed. His arms dangled at his side, one holding his sword.
“All I wanted was to be an adventurer,” Kemp said. “And you took that away from me. Now I will make sure you never become one.”
“I don’t want to, so that’s okay,” Dagdron said.
Kemp hacked at Dagdron with his sword. Dagdron jumped backward, crouching to prepare for Kemp’s next attack. The warrior moved forward, swinging his sword wildly. Dagdron, used to controlled fights with Scar, wasn’t sure how best to defend himself against such random strokes, but he kept his balance, dodging this way and that, using his dagger to block Kemp’s sword when he could. Kemp, frustrated with the nimble rogue, finally let out a war cry as he lifted his sword and charged. Dagdron sprang to the right, and Kemp’s sword and arm lunged through two bars of the black fence surrounding the graveyard.
Dagdron, noticing that Kemp was having trouble freeing his arm, dashed to the mandrake plant and plucked it straightaway. An eerie screech sounded as he pulled the plant from the earth. His dagger and the mandrake root in hand, Dagdron helped Elloriana, who was groaning as she came to, stand up. Earl and Lita had heard the commotion and were sprinting toward them. The foursome met partway across the cemetery.
“Kemp attacked us,” Dagdron explained, shoving Elloriana toward the other two so they could assist her.
An animalistic yell came from behind, so the rogue, two fighters, and enchantress high-tailed it out of the graveyard to the streets of Bodaburg. When they reached the town gate, Elloriana was still dazed, so Earl and Lita helped hoist her over.
“What are we going to do?” Earl said when they reached the academy. “She could be concussed.”
“Leave her in the entrance hall,” Dagdron suggested. “That way we won’t have to explain anything.”
Lita’s muscles flexed as she scowled at Dagdron. “I’ll keep watch over her tonight.”
“Thank you, Lita,” Earl said. “I’m so glad you came with us tonight.”
Lita smiled at Earl, gave Dagdron one last brutish expression, and led Elloriana to the girls’ tower.
“Let’s hurry, Dagdron,” Earl said. “I don’t know about this mandrake business, but we can’t keep it in our room. I heard the screech all the way across the graveyard.”
Dagdron, although he didn’t say so, was in complete agreement. The scream as he plucked the mandrake plant had even given him chills.
The two boys crossed to the classroom tower and went to the wall with the arch engraving. Dagdron used the orb to open the secret door, and he and Earl crept cautiously down the stairs. The room looked exactly as they had left it.
Mazannanan had mentioned summoning him but, since neither of the boys had done anything special the first time, they stood near the altar until the blue lightning bolts struck in the left-side archway again. The wizard stepped out once the wall of blue light was in place.
“The mandrake root,” Mazannanan said, looking toward Dagdron’s hand.
“Tell us about the Arches of Avooblis,
” Dagdron said.
“Not yet,” the wizard said. “I said you had to bring me mandrake root powder. The plant must soak in nightshade juice before it can be properly turned into powder.”
“That wasn’t our deal,” Dagdron said. Earl gave a soft tug on his cloak. The warrior didn’t want to upset the scary-looking wizard even if he couldn’t touch them.
“Yes, it was,” Mazannanan said. “I said when you give me mandrake root power, not when you give me the plant.”
Dagdron kept his face blank as he thought about what to do. They hadn’t been able to find any other information about the Arches of Avooblis anywhere. If he didn’t go along with the demands of the ancient man, they might never find another source.
“No need to overthink it,” the wizard said. “You have the advantage. My quest requires multiple ingredients for it to be fulfilled. I do not know what information you seek about Avooblis. If, by chance, I share what you need to know after the first ingredient, then you will leave without bringing me the others. I may as well get at least one component out of it.”
“We don’t have nightshade juice,” Dagdron said.
“Yes, you do,” Mazannanan said, pointing to the shelves against the wall. “A whole jar.”
Dagdron gave the mandrake root to Earl as they walked to the shelves. Earl shuddered as he took the plant.
“The roots look like they form a baby’s face and body,” Earl said.
“Don’t look at it,” Dagdron said.
The wizard followed them, pointing out a large jar of brownish brine.
“Bring it to the altar.”
Dagdron carried the jar to the altar, setting it down and unscrewing the top. Following the wizard’s instructions, he took the mandrake from Earl and carefully immersed it before putting the lid back on.
The Shrine of Avooblis Page 10