“Naira,” Peter reminded me.
“Right. So Mellie was a leader before she died. Naira, however, is still alive and, from what I gleaned, not imprisoned.”
“So you think Naira might be behind Fraser’s disappearance?”
“It’s a thread worth pulling, don’t you think?”
Peter grinned broadly. “I do think, on occasion. Not often enough, it seems.”
“Should we take a peek at the pit?” I asked. “Maybe we’ll find a clue there.”
Peter shrugged. “If we can figure out where it is, I’m game.”
“Great, I know just the place to go for help.”
“You’re going to look in a book?” Peter asked, as we approached the library steps at the academy.
“I’ve got a better resource than a book,” I replied.
Peter hesitated. “We don’t need to walk past those gargoyles, do we? I’ve had enough of their stone faces for one lifetime.”
I laughed. “Since when are you Mr. Sensitive?” I looped my arm through his. “Come on, Stone Shadow. Let’s locate this pit. The sooner we figure out what happened to Fraser, the sooner you can finally be rid of me.”
“I’m sure you’ll be relieved when that happens.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said good-naturedly. “I think I’m kind of used to you by now. You’re like that buzzing background noise that becomes almost comforting over time.”
“Comforting,” he repeated, sullen. “That’s me.”
We blew past Fred and George without a word and into the open wall of the library that served as a doorway. I marched straight to the back of the room, much to Peter’s surprise.
“The books are over here,” he said, pointing.
“I’m not using the books.” I stopped in front of the mounted gryphon’s head on the wall. “Hey, Cato.”
The beady eyes opened. “Miss Degraff. My condolences.”
I softened. “Thank you, Cato. It’s been a difficult time, but, thankfully, I’ve had a lot of support.” I smiled at Peter.
“And who is this?” Cato asked, focusing on Peter.
“Peter Zilla,” he said. “Dani and I are working together.”
“You’re not a trainee,” Cato said.
“No, he’s…” I paused. Did I tell Cato that Peter was a smuggler? “He’s a druid.”
“He’s more than a druid,” Cato said.
Peter looked at me quickly. “Is this guy some kind of prophet on a stick?”
Cato’s laugh rumbled. “If only. I am simply a resource for those who seek the wisdom I possess.”
“We need to find the location of an underground pit,” I said. “There’s allegedly a disused pit nearby where they used to keep giants after the Stone War.”
Cato’s round eyes widened. “The Pit of Doom? I haven’t heard mention of the pits in…I can’t even recall. It’s not an interest that crops up here very often.”
“Why is that?” I asked. “The giant we just visited—he had so much bitterness on behalf of his ancestors. I feel like it’s a time we should be ashamed of.”
Cato’s eagle head bobbed up and down. “It was certainly not our finest hour, but the Accords secured their freedom from the pits.”
“But the giants never truly seemed to recover,” I said. I was as guilty as anyone else of failing to notice that they were treated like second-class citizens.
“I knew many a giant in my day,” Cato said. “They were hard-working and intelligent. They fought by my side in countless battles.”
“After the Stone War,” Peter said.
“Of course,” Cato replied. “The Stone War pitted the giants against everyone else. It was the pivotal moment in history when the giants lost their control over the rest of the quadrants. Some attempted to assimilate after the Accords. Others vowed revenge.”
“How far is the Pit of Doom?” I asked.
“About ten miles southwest as the raven flies,” Cato said. “The entrance is marked by a boulder in the shape of Tito.”
“Who’s Tito?” I asked.
“He was one of the leaders in the Stone War,” Cato said. “A fierce giant with great strength and loyal followers.”
“He was the last giant standing after the Battle of Ogg,” Peter added. I looked at him askance. “Again, princess? Listen, when will you finally accept that I know things?”
“Tito was sent to the Pit of Doom before the signing of the Accords,” Cato said. “The statue commemorates his time there.”
“Hard to miss then,” I said.
“No one goes out that way,” Peter said. “It’s nothing except empty land and no vegetation.”
“That’s one reason the pits were effective for imprisoning giants,” Cato said. “Even if they escaped, they were weak with nowhere to go. The landscape was unfriendly. Hellside Canyon is the closest landmark.”
“Guys, you really need to stop gushing about how great this place is or I may want to move in,” I joked.
“Will you drive the caretaker’s vehicle?” Cato asked. “I’m not sure it’s suitable for the terrain.”
Peter took a step forward. “I’ll drive. My car is designed to get out of any situation.”
“He’s a smuggler,” I added.
Peter shot me an indignant look. “You don’t have to advertise it everywhere, you know. It’s kind of on a need-to-know basis.”
I fluttered a set of innocent eyelashes. “What? I thought you were proud of it. You put the ‘smug’ in it and everything.”
Peter scowled. “I may act like a minotaur’s ass on occasion.”
I laughed. “Only on occasion.”
“You two seem like old friends,” Cato said.
Peter barked a short laugh. “Gryphons have a strange idea of friendship.”
“Come on, minotaur’s ass,” I said. “We need to see this pit before dark. Maybe we can find a connection to Professor Fraser.”
Cato’s beak twitched. “Oh! So that’s what this inquiry is about. I did wonder.”
“Did you have a chance to meet him before he disappeared?” I asked.
“Unfortunately not,” Cato replied. “I hope to do so upon his safe return, if only to ask him whether he ever successfully completed his famous god elixir. I have no record of it, other than his failed attempts.”
“God elixir?” I echoed. “What’s that?”
Peter smacked his forehead. “Great Goddess of the Moon!”
I turned to the druid. “What is it?”
“That’s what this is about,” Peter said. “I can’t believe I didn’t put the pieces together sooner. That’s why they chose Fraser. They didn’t take him as a political pawn. They took him because of what he can do. Or was trying to do.”
“The god elixir is a potion that was rumored to exist generations ago but was lost to time,” Cato explained. “Professor Fraser was working on a variation of it by piecing together bits of research over the years.”
“And what does it do?” I asked. “Give the drinker the power of the gods?”
“If you get the mixture right, it can be even more specific than that,” Cato said. “You want to throw thunderbolts, you drink the Zeus elixir. You want the powers of deception and trickery, you drink the Loki potion.”
Peter scratched the back of his neck. “I was sure he gave up. It came up in conversation now and again, but he always mentioned it reluctantly, and in the past tense.”
“The Board of Regents questioned him about his passion project during the interview process,” Cato reported. “Apparently, they were concerned that such a potion had the potential to do great harm.”
“Did he say whether it existed?” I asked.
“To my knowledge, it does not,” Cato said. “Though, as I said, I was interested in following up with the professor. I find such topics endlessly fascinating.”
“They’re planning a revolution,” I said, my brain in overdrive. “Peter, the ophiotaurus. You said the legend claims….”
&n
bsp; “Burning the entrails of an ophiotaurus will grant the power to overthrow the gods,” Cato finished for me. “You encountered such a sacrifice?”
“Sort of,” I said. “The giants have been working multiple angles. This explains why there was no ransom demand. It was never about money or bargaining for the release of prisoners. They’re trying to take control.”
“They’re using Fraser to perfect the elixir,” Peter said. “If he can manage it, they’ll be no stopping them.”
“We need to go,” I said, feeling a sense of urgency. “We need to find him before it’s too late.” Angry, revolting giants with the power of the gods? The idea terrified me.
Peter must’ve felt the same because he didn’t say another word. He simply charged out of the library. I thanked Cato and turned to catch up to Peter.
“Be cautious, Dani,” Cato called. “This one carries secrets of his own.”
“Don’t we all?” I asked, and sprinted after Peter.
Chapter Seventeen
Tito’s statue was easy to find. It stood fifteen feet high, seemingly immune to the elements. The wind gusted here, blowing dirt and debris all around us.
“This place is so windy,” I said, shielding my eyes with my hand.
Peter pointed. “I see the entrance.”
I followed his finger to a crack in the ground about thirty feet away. “That’s an entrance?” It was so narrow that there was no way even a giant on a diet could fit through there.
“Pretty sure,” Peter said. “I’ve had to squeeze through smaller crevices.” I shuddered, which didn’t escape his notice. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “I just don’t like that word.”
Peter scratched his head. “What word?”
“The c-word,” I said. I knew it was a ridiculous reaction to have to such a benign word, but it didn’t change my opinion.
“Crevice?” Peter repeated, incredulous. “That’s a word that creeps you out?”
“I can’t explain it,” I said. “I’ve always hated it.”
“Interesting. What are your feelings on the word moist?” Peter asked.
I shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. Why?”
“Just curious.”
We hurried over to the crack and I could see that it was much wider than it appeared from a distance. Then I noticed something even more important.
“Peter,” I said slowly, and pointed to the ground.
“Footprints,” he whispered.
Not just any footprints. Giant footprints. Several sets of tracks. “Do you think Fraser is here?”
Peter balled his fists. “Only one way to find out. You ready, princess? You may want to have that fancy wand of yours at the ready.”
I pulled my wand from my waistband. If the giants were still here, it might be best to take them by surprise because they’d clearly have the size advantage.
I peered into the darkness of the crack. “There are steps.”
“How else do you think we’d get down there?”
“I thought maybe there was long drop,” I said.
“Stick close to me,” Peter said. “If anyone’s down there, don’t let them separate us. We’re stronger together.”
Despite the danger and tension, I felt a flutter in my stomach. “Yes, we are,” I agreed.
Peter looked at me curiously. “You feeling okay, princess? You look like you drank a bad bottle of Goddess Bounty.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I feel fine, thank you. Let’s go.” As quietly as possible, we made our way down the enormous steps made from rocks that matched the color of the earth around us. The steps were long and winding and it took us what seemed like half an hour to reach the bottom. The further down we went, the more darkness enveloped us.
Peter leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I hear something.”
I strained to listen and heard the faint sound of voices engaged in conversation. I gripped my wand tightly and ran through a few defensive spells in my mind. It was difficult to know what to use when I had no idea what we’d be up against. What if they had the elixir already?
The bottom of the staircase emptied out into a chamber of some kind, possibly used as the receiving room for its former inhabitants. Giants could have been logged in here before being moved to the pits themselves.
Peter put a finger to his lips. Someone was coming. We heard the heavy thud of giant footsteps. He pulled me flat against the other side of the wall. We couldn’t see the giant as he passed by, but it was impossible to miss the sound of his walk.
“That must’ve been the last of it,” the giant called over his shoulder. “I don’t see anything else.”
“That’s what she figured,” another voice said. “Let’s do the final sweep and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”
Final sweep? What did that mean?
Peter caught my eye and held up his fingers to indicate count of three. He held up a closed fist and began holding up a finger at a time. When he reached three fingers, we bolted from our hidden position to stand between the giant and his friend.
“What in spell’s bells,” the giant rumbled, glancing from Peter to me. “Where did you two come from?”
“We were hoping to have the place to ourselves,” Peter said, wrapping an arm around my waist. “We heard it was abandoned.”
The giant looked us over with a skeptical eye. “Do you always bring your wand on dates?”
“It doesn’t exactly detach,” Peter quipped. The giant gripped Peter’s shoulder and shoved him away from me. So much for sticking together.
“I was talking to the lady,” the giant said. “Mind your manners, insect.”
Then Peter did something I had no idea he could do.
“What’s the matter?” Peter asked, his voice rolling like thunder. “You look like you’ve never seen a giant before.”
I stared up at him in awe. “How did you do that?”
“You know I can shift.”
“Into an ant!” I cried. Not into this.
A giant fist cut through the air, landing square on Peter’s humongous chest. Giant Peter barely flinched. He returned the serve with gusto, and the opposing giant staggered backward, shocked by the sudden turn of events.
I didn’t waste the element of surprise. I invoked my magic—felt the energy course through my veins. I aimed my wand at the other giant and said, “Gelare.”
The giant froze, completely immobilized. I could see him struggling to move his mouth to speak, but even that proved futile.
“Nice work,” Peter said, launching another fist at his opponent. “Care to help me out over here?”
“You can handle yourself,” I said. “I’m going to search the rest of the pit.”
“Is there anyone else back there?” Peter asked his sparring partner. He currently had the other giant in a chokehold.
“He can’t answer you if you’re crushing his windpipe,” I said. “Ease up.”
Peter released some of the pressure. “Answer me now.”
“No one,” the giant wheezed. “The pit has been cleared out.”
Peter studied the giant. “Why don’t I believe you?” He threw the entire weight of his body into the other giant, and they both toppled over. Peter climbed on top of him and began to pummel his face.
I fled the chamber with my wand in firing position, in case Peter was right and there were more giants to contend with in the pit. But what did Peter’s opponent mean—what had been cleared away?
The next chamber was blanketed in darkness. My foot crunched on something hard and I bent down to examine a jagged piece of glass. It was hard to see in the dark, but it seemed to be shaded purple like popular potion bottles.
A weak groan reached my ears. “Hello?” I called. There didn’t seem to be any giants here. They’d be easy enough to spot, even bathed in shadows. I decided it was safe to conjure a patch of light to help me see. I held up my wand and used a basic illumination spell. The soft glow emana
ted, allowing me to see most of the area around me. It was like standing in the heart of a hollowed-out boulder. Beige and amber rock surrounded me. As my eyes adjusted to the change in light, I noticed trails of broken glass along the ground. Not just purple but a variety of shades, as though there’d been an entire potions lab set up in the pit. I also saw a discarded tree trunk and I recognized the bark.
The peento tree.
Another groan drifted through the quiet. I could no longer hear the scuffle between Peter and the giant. I hoped he was okay.
I crept forward, hunting for clues. The pit seemed devoid of life, except for the occasional groan. The crater-like area stretched out before me and I peered into the far darkness. Something glinted there. I hurried forward to investigate and immediately regretted it.
Metal chains hung from a wooden device. Dark red patches on the ground were most certainly blood spatter. A wave of nausea rolled over me. The giants had tortured someone here, and I had no doubt that someone was Grantham Fraser.
Dear gods. What if that groan was…?
“Help,” a voice croaked.
I raced past the torture rack to find him slumped against the stone wall. Bruises covered the exposed parts of his body and his one eye appeared swollen.
“Professor Fraser,” I said, with a mixture of relief and horror. I dropped to my knees at his side. He was still alive. That was what mattered.
He tried to focus on me, but I could tell he was disoriented. “Do I know you?”
“I’m Dani Degraff,” I said. “I’m in your Advanced Potions class.” The words sounded ridiculous under the circumstances.
“They must be stopped.” His breathing was ragged. “Elixir.”
“Princess!” Peter’s voice rang out in the pit.
“Here!” I yelled. “He’s here.”
“Good. You’re not alone.” The professor’s good eye closed and I feared he’d slip into unconsciousness.
Peter rushed to our side, no longer in his giant form. “Fraser, you’re alive.”
The professor’s head lolled to one side. “Peter?”
“Who else would decide to raid the Pit of Doom without backup?” Peter said good-naturedly.
“They plan to revolt,” Fraser said. Each word spoken seemed like agony.
Outlier_Spellslingers Academy of Magic Page 16