by Matt Forbeck
"Haul us up!" Clagg said.
Dougal tried, but his aching arms would not comply. He'd already put every ounce of his strength into trying to save the others, and he didn't have anything left. It was all he could do simply to keep himself from letting go. "It's no good. I can't!"
"You humans!" Clagg barked. "What good are you?"
Dougal closed his eyes again and strained with all his might. Try as he might, though, he couldn't bring the end of the rope up an inch. He bellowed in frustration with the effort, but nothing he did made any difference. He felt the end of the rope begin to wobble like mad and realized that if he didn't release it soon, he'd only wind up dead with the others.
The instant before he could finally allow himself to let go of the line, though, delicate fingers grasped his wrist. Then a sweet, desperate voice said in a ghostly whisper, "Dougal, help me up!"
Dougal almost dropped the rope in surprise. While what was left of Breaker had kept the tomb guardian busy, Killeen had climbed all the way up the rope, with Clagg's arms clamped around her neck.
Dougal moved his numbed fingers from the rope to Killeen's arm and then fell backward, letting his weight haul Killeen and Clagg up over the lip of the hole to land upon him.
Blushing just a little, Dougal and Killeen disentangled themselves from each other and stood up. As one, the three of them leaned over and peered into the pit.
The tomb guardian gave Breaker one last stomp, and the blue glow in its central arcane motivator crystal faded and died.
Clagg howled in despair. "Do you know how much of my life that represents?"
As if to answer, the composite tomb guardian turned and stretched its arms up at them. Clagg leaped back, but Dougal stood his ground, confident that they were well beyond the creature's reach.
"I hate magic," Dougal said. "I mean, sure, we knew that grabbing the Eye was going to make something happen-an asura like Blimm wouldn't just leave it there unguarded-but with magic, you can't ever know what it's going to be."
Killeen leaned up against a wall of the bone-lined corridor, trying to restore the circulation to her legs. She looked like a newborn colt struggling to its feet for the first time. "Blimm must have been very determined to protect his crypt. Guarding a tomb with a beast like that strikes me as overkill."
Clagg snorted at them both. "You idiots. The Golem's Eye isn't just a pretty rock. It is an ambient thaumaturgic construct. It contains the construct's mind. That tomb guardian didn't even exist until we showed up to disturb it." He glared at Dougal. "When you touched the ruby, you activated the Eye. The Eye in turn created the guardian."
The tomb guardian slammed its limbs into the side of the chamber directly below. Dougal watched as pieces of the construct crumbled away. It hit the wall again and again, knocking loose more pieces every time until little of it was left but a few twitching skulls that seemed to stare up at Dougal and accuse him of thievery with their empty eye sockets.
"So passes Blimm's great creation," Clagg cackled. "And now the Golem's Eye is mine!"
Dougal started to grin, but his sense of triumph faded when the bones lining the corridor began to thrum.
Dougal looked about them. "You say the ruby is that thing's mind?"
The asura nodded, still delighted in his anticipated prize. "In a sense. Blimm designed the central cereo-impulse unit so that the guardian could assemble itself out of appropriate materials in the surrounding environment. I'd think even a human could grasp that."
"So, assuming the ruby is still intact, the creature could reassemble itself anywhere?"
Clagg's face darkened. "Isn't that what I just said, bookah? It could re-form anywhere it could find enough appropriate…" The asura's voice faded to silence as the rattling of the bones surrounding the three of them grew louder. Clagg's eyes opened wide as he realized what he had just said.
"… material." He finished softly, looking at the bone-lined chamber around them.
"We should run, now," suggested Killeen.
As the bones began to peel themselves from the corridor's walls, Dougal grabbed his torch in one hand, Killeen's hand in the other, and ran. He didn't look back to see if Clagg was keeping up.
Through the chambers and passages they fled, the dry clattering of bone against bone behind them. They slowed only for a moment where the spider had ambushed Killeen, and again where the explosive trap had detonated. Only after they reached the far side of both chambers without incident did Dougal call for a halt. Clagg bent in half, desperate to regain his breath. Killeen was practically yellow from exhaustion as well.
Over their deep gasps for breath, Dougal listened for the sounds of pursuit. Nothing.
"We've outrun it," he said at last, wiping the sweat away from his forehead.
"Not possible," panted the asura. "We are still surrounded by bones. Show me the Eye."
Dougal fished out the gemstone and held it out to the asura, but did not let go of it. The fire in the jewel's heart was gone, and the stone felt dead and lifeless.
"As I thought," said the asura. "It is deactivated. Exhausted the stored malagetic field. It could recharge naturally over time, or someone with sufficient skill"-Clagg paused just long enough to indicate he meant himself-"could reactivate it. Give it to me."
Dougal closed his fist. "Not yet."
Clagg snarled, "I hired you to retrieve the Eye."
Dougal said, "You hired us to accompany you into these crypts to recover the gem. We are still in the crypts. Once we are safely out and, may I add, paid, I will give you the gem." With that, Dougal made a show of placing the gem in his breast pocket once more.
Only, this time he palmed the gem and kept it in his hand.
Clagg opened his mouth to abuse Dougal further, but looked at the human's smiling face, said "Bah," and stomped away in the general direction of the Skull Gate and daylight.
Killeen said, "You think he is going to cheat you." It was a statement, not a question.
Dougal nodded. "Definitely. Well, likely. Best to be sure." He looked at the sylvari, and she returned his gaze with a quizzical look. He coughed and followed the asura.
The Skull Gate, a main entrance to the crypts beneath Divinity's Reach, was named for the long tunnel lined with the lacquered skulls of the deceased. Nameless souls whose bodies had washed up when Orr sank, and when that lost kingdom rose from the depths once more at a dragon's command. Dougal thought of the power of the Golem's Eye unleashed here and shuddered.
Up ahead, around a corner, was daylight. They had been underground for most of the day, but even in the deep shadows of the elevated main thoroughfares of the city, the natural light was welcome.
Clagg disappeared around the corner, then returned at once in a sudden rush-so sudden that he barreled into Dougal, knocking the human over.
Dougal felt small fingers snatch at his shirt. Instead of the gem, however, the asura came up with a closed gold locket hanging from a chain around Dougal's neck.
Dougal reached up with his empty hand and pulled the locket loose from the confused asura. "I'll take that, thank you," he said. "What's wrong?"
"City guards," said Clagg, recovering. "Seraph. We have to wait."
"Show me," said Dougal.
They crept forward. Going into the crypts was not illegal, but needed proper paperwork and passes. Paperwork and passes they, of course, lacked. Meeting the Seraph would be a bad thing at this point.
Clagg stopped at the corner and leaned out. Dougal leaned out over him, placing the hand holding the gem against one of the skulls.
The asura was not lying about the guards. Decked in heavy white armor trimmed in gold, the Seraph were the city guard of Divinity's Reach and the army of Kryta. They should not be gathered in such large numbers in the plaza outside the Skull Gate, thought Dougal. They did not appear to be on alert, and were not apparently waiting for the krewe, but a battered human, asura, and sylvari coated with bone dust and stumbling into the plaza would no doubt be brought in for quest
ioning. Questioning that would turn rather pointed when they found the Golem's Eye.
Dougal slipped the Eye deep into the eye socket of the nearest lacquered skull. It was an unsuitable hiding place, but it was the best he could do for the moment.
"So, do you have a plan, human?" said Clagg.
"Let me see," said Killeen. "Is there a problem?" The sylvari climbed up on Dougal's back to see past him, putting her slim, booted foot on the back of his belt to boost herself up.
Despite himself, Dougal shook her off and wheeled on her. "What are you doing?" he said sharply. "Aren't things bad enough?"
The sylvari shrank back from the reproach, and Dougal swallowed any further words. He turned back to the asura, towering over him.
"Here's the plan: we wait."
Clagg, visibly frustrated and tired, shook his head. "What if they are checking the crypts?"
"Fine, then one of us goes out and draws their attention. Then we regroup later for the split."
"Dougal…" said Killeen.
"By 'one of us,' you mean me or the sylvari, don't you?" spat Clagg.
"If you want, I will go first," said Dougal, looking down on the asura, his own anger rising. They had been through too much to end it with a stupid argument.
"Dougal…" repeated Killeen.
"So you can fast-talk your way past your human friends and leave us here to be caught?" snarled Clagg.
"We can't go out together!" said Dougal hotly. "They will get all of us!"
"Dougal Keane!" said Killeen firmly.
"What?" snapped Dougal, turning toward her again. This time she didn't shrink back.
"We have company," said Killeen.
Dougal turned back and looked down the drawn blade of a Seraph lieutenant. Two other Seraph stood behind her, their blades drawn as well.
"Dougal Keane-I believe she called you that," said the lieutenant. "You and your friends are under arrest, Dougal Keane. Come along now."
The manacles, Dougal felt, were an unnecessary insult. His cell was carved out of living rock, without mortar or purchase. The bars that bisected the room were old and stout and as thick as his thumb. The only light was from a thin chimney far overhead, also barred. The door to his partitioned cell was secured by a heavy padlock, which Dougal could pick with the proper tools, but those tools were now denied him. Beyond the barred partition was a small hall leading to an ironbound door to the rest of the jail. If Dougal had a norn, he could get past that as well, but that luxury was also denied him.
Given the security, the heavy iron leggings and wrist cuffs-all held together by a single loop of chain and set into a ring in the center of the room-were simply overkill.
It had been four days since his arrest, and except for a bored, grunting servant who brought porridge in the morning and stew in the evening, he had not had any visitors. That changed on the afternoon of the fourth day.
The outer door opened and a heavyset, mustached Seraph guard entered, followed by a young clerk carrying a writing desk. The heavyset guard stared at Dougal through the bars while the clerk positioned the small desk, then left the room. The clerk returned with a stool, set it before the writing desk, uncorked a small vial of ink, set it in the appropriate hole in the desk, opened the desk, selected a quill, sharpened it, removed a small sheaf of paper, peeled off the topmost sheet, sat down on the stool, dipped the quill in the vial, and waited for the guard to speak.
"Dougal Keane-" began the officer.
"Present," said Dougal, interrupting him.
The officer scowled, then started again. "Dougal Keane, you are accused of grave-robbing in the crypts beneath Divinity's Reach. How do you plead?"
"Did you find any grave goods on myself or my companions?" asked Dougal.
"No," said the officer, who seemed unbothered by the admission.
"And did you find much in the way of weapons on the three of us?"
"No," repeated the officer.
"Then," said Dougal, "If we are tomb robbers, we are extremely ineffective ones."
"Your effectiveness is not the issue," said the officer. "Your intent is."
"Then I will go with 'Innocent' as a response," said Dougal to the clerk, who dutifully noted it.
"You were found at the Skull Gate, injured and coated with bone dust. You lack the proper exploration permissions. Your answers have been less than satisfactory." Here the guard smiled. "And one of your compatriots has already confessed that you were seeking the Tomb of Blimm and the Golem's Eye."
Clagg, thought Dougal, and all the air went out of him for the moment. "So, why are we having this discussion?" he said.
"Formality," said the officer, his teeth showing white beneath his mustache. He walked over to the writing desk and motioned to the clerk, who opened it and produced another sheaf of paper. The Seraph guard read the form.
"Dougal Keane," he said.
"Still present," said Dougal, his heart sinking.
"Born in Divinity's Reach, but emigrated to Ebonhawke as a child. Served in the Ebon Vanguard. You are listed as missing, presumed dead. Deserter?" His teeth flashed.
"We were caught behind charr lines on an extended patrol," said Dougal, choosing his words carefully.
"You disappeared five years ago," said the officer.
"It was an extremely extended patrol," said Dougal, hoping he sounded more authoritative than he felt. He felt compelled to add, "There were a lot of charr between us and Ebonhawke at the time."
"You never went back," said the officer, smacking his lips in disdain. Then he added, "The queen strongly supports Ebonhawke. We could send you back to rejoin your unit."
"I'm sure those who are still alive would welcome me back," bluffed Dougal.
The officer shrugged and returned to his list. "Wanted in regards to numerous petty crimes in Lion's Arch."
"Does the queen strongly support Lion's Arch as well?" said Dougal, raising his eyebrows in mock disbelief.
"A crime is a crime," said the officer. "Even in Lion's Arch."
"Lion's Arch was founded by pirates, corsairs, and wreckers," said Dougal, and for the first time the Seraph nodded in agreement. Even the clerk smiled.
The officer returned to his paper. "You worked for the Durmand Priory, apparently."
"Briefly. We parted company after a disagreement about their book-lending policy," said Dougal.
"I was unaware that the Durmand Priory lent out its precious books," said the Seraph.
"My point exactly," said Dougal. This time the clerk smiled and nodded, but the Seraph only shrugged.
"Your name turned up in an incident involving the sunken Temple of the Ages."
"Never been there," Dougal lied.
"Several landlords are looking for you about rent owed," continued the Seraph officer.
"A series of simple misunderstandings," said Dougal.
"You've been to Ascalon City," said the officer. "And came out alive."
The accusation was sudden and unexpected, and left him breathless. It hung in the air a moment, and even the clerk looked up. Dougal just nodded.
"Yes," he said at last. "That part is true."
The Seraph shook his head. "With all your… apparent abilities, I am surprised you have not made more of yourself."
Dougal struggled for a moment, then said, "Such is the nature of our lives in these dragon-haunted times. Perhaps I have a problem with my work ethic."
"Very well," said the heavyset man. "I think we can provide you with a little work ethic. You'll be joining a work crew on Lake Doric."
"Don't I get a trial?" asked Dougal.
"You get a hearing," said the officer. "This was it. In the name of Queen Jennah, the city of Divinity's Reach, the nation of Kryta, you are found guilty. Tomorrow morning you'll be escorted to a work gang north of the city."
Dougal started to protest, when the door opened and another Seraph entered the room.
If his original interrogator was ill-made to wear the uniform, this one seemed
to have been born in the armor. Tall, with dark brown hair parted in the center, the long locks framing a stern face with noble, chiseled features.
Dougal inhaled sharply: this was Logan Thackeray, captain of the Seraph in Divinity's Reach, champion of Her Majesty Queen Jennah, protector of Kryta. The man had been legendary even before he had joined the Seraph: he was a member of one of the most famous guilds in recent history, Destiny's Edge. Although that guild was no more, Logan Thackeray's legend had continued to grow.
The interrogating officer immediately stiffened and saluted, while the clerk laid down his pen and bowed in respect. Even Dougal felt his spine stiffen and stood up straight in the captain's presence.
"Lieutenant Groban," said Logan sharply.
"Sir," said Groban, dropping his salute with a snap. "I was about to assign the prisoner to a work gang."
"Dougal Keane?" said Logan.
"Yes, sir!" said Groban, pleased that the captain was following his caseload. For his part, Dougal felt a little sick: when someone in power knew your name, it never boded well.
"He is to be released," said Logan.
A confused look spread over Groban's face, as if Logan had suddenly manifested a godly aura and levitated before him. "Released?" the lieutenant repeated.
"On orders of Her Majesty, he is to be released into the custody of the Vigil," said Logan, and Dougal's stomach felt like an abyssal hole. The queen? Why would the queen have anything to say in this?
Lieutenant Groban fumbled with his heavy set of keys and unlocked the cell door. Then, selecting a smaller key, he began working on Dougal's manacles.
Dougal's thoughts raced. Why was this Vigil interested in him? They were a group of would-be knights and heroes engaged in fighting the Elder Dragons and their minions. A fool's errand if there ever was one.
Why did they want him? He checked his ongoing list of people he had offended, stole from, or owed money to. He came up empty.
"You are a lucky man," said Logan, speaking to Dougal now. "You were specifically asked for by someone with enough influence to get you out of here." From the tone of his voice, it was clear that Logan would prefer to see Dougal rebuilding a dock somewhere on Lake Doric under armed supervision. "Were I you, I would strongly recommend that you not disappoint her. I don't want to see you back here again." He failed to elucidate whether he was referring to this cell, Divinity's Reach, or Kryta in general.