A murmur went up around the crowd. This went beyond a scholarship. It was a guarantee for a good life for your family at the end of the war, and for many students, a huge jump in social class.
Dan glanced at Richard, who had clenched his fists at the words, and caught the red-haired boy’s eye. Richard’s expression softened as he saw the worry Dan was sure covered his face, and the Contractor sighed and turned back to the speech.
As the headmistress finished with a few words of encouragement and dismissed the crowd, Tarissa yawned. “Ugh, such a waste of time.”
Marit seemed troubled. “What’s going on with the war?”
“Stupid people killing stupid people,” said Richard with a hollow dullness to his voice. “But that’s the way it is. Nothing we can do about it.” He broke away and left the grounds through the University’s wrought iron gate.
Tor Pin made as if to follow him, but then shrugged his shoulders and remained with the rest of the club. “I wish I knew what was wrong,” he said. “He isn’t the military’s most fervent supporter, but it isn’t like him to become this glum. He is usually the most cheerful person in the room.”
A strained look crossed Tarissa’s face. “It’s not the school’s fault we’re at war. The University just extends the offer they were given.” She began to walk away. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Well,” said Dan, “I’m still not taking it. I came here to help people, not to kill them. That’s all there is to it.” Ways he could help the orphanage with a high-ranking soldier’s salary nagged at Dan’s mind, but he couldn’t give up what he loved just for money. Besides, if he died in war, there would be no salary for the orphanage. Dan forced a grin. “Let’s see if we can get tickets. Winning would cheer Richard up, I bet.” No one returned his smile.
***
They didn’t win any tickets to the banquet, but that was for the best, for Tarissa called a meeting that evening in the Laughing Eel. To Dan’s relief Richard’s mood had bettered, and as a result everyone seemed more at ease.
The overall atmosphere of the tavern was tense. News of the war and the military’s offer had been the talk of the school after the ceremony, and everyone was on edge because of it. Some students wore their uniforms, though the majority had changed back to casual wear while off campus. Dan still wore his, as did everyone in the club.
“I’ll cut to the chase,” said Tarissa after they’d ordered food. “We need to get more dungeons run in the next week. We’ve been too lazy these past few days. I tried to give the newbies time to acclimate, but we can’t put it off any longer.”
Tor Pin sighed. “What do we have for shards? Do we need to purchase more?”
Tarissa opened a pouch and poured three pieces of worn glass onto the tabletop along with their paperwork. “We’ve got three to choose from,” she said. “Nothing exquisite, I’m afraid.”
The Northerner picked one paper up and scanned its writing. “Dear goodness,” he said. “A spider nest? That doesn’t sound very pleasant.”
Richard shrugged. “Spiders are vulnerable to fire,” he said, “and antidote to their venom is cheap.”
Dan felt a chill. “You mean we might get bitten?”
“Probably,” said Richard. “Spiders are tough. What’s the environment?”
“Petrified forest,” replied Tor Pin. “It could be worse, I suppose.” He picked up the other sheets. “And... a tomb full of traps, likely similar to the one we ran last, but more dangerous. And a sinkhole cavern with a good amount of environmental danger.” He looked up. “I would prefer the spiders first, I think. Less room for death.”
Marit smirked. “What, you think I can’t carry everyone through the traps again?”
"Spiders are easy for our group to deal with is all I meant. And variety is the spice of life, after all.”
“Sure.”
Dan poked one of the dungeon shards. “How much money will we make?”
“Probably not much,” said Tarissa. Strain crossed her face. “But it’s what we need to do. Everyone agree?"
Marit nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll get the supplies we need tomorrow morning.” She looked at Tor Pin. “Do we have the spells we need this time?”
“Indeed.” Tor Pin patted a jacket pocket. “I stocked up as soon as I could last time. No need to do any further shopping.”
“Then it’s settled,” said Tarissa, smiling as dinner arrived. It was as hearty as always, but the tavern’s tension discouraged further talk. Even Richard had grown subdued and said little as they ate.
Dan tapped his feet under the table, careful not to kick Ruckus sleeping at his feet. A second dungeon. He would need to become useful soon, or they wouldn’t have much reason to keep him around. Dan couldn’t disarm traps or interpret arcane formulas like the others, and as for fighting…
He looked briefly at Ruckus, and then looked down at his plate of chicken. Maybe after the semester ended he would have attained enough skill to be of use. For now he would remain a glorified pack animal carrying supplies to and from the dungeons.
Dan glanced toward Marit who drank long from her mug of cider. He still couldn’t place the feeling of recognition which always prodded when she was near. The golden-haired girl caught Dan’s eye, and he looked away, feeling his face flush. Maybe someday they would be close enough he could share some memories about his old world. If anyone could empathize with him, Dan felt it would be Marit.
Chapter 8
Dan fell back onto his bed, exhausted. On the room’s other bed, Richard sat still and silent. They had just completed their third dungeon in two days.
It all felt surreal. The club’s last few hours had passed in claustrophobic, winding corridors where even the magical light of Mystic beads had faded prematurely, thick darkness wrapping around them like an assassin’s subtle arms. No monsters or traps threatened them, only the terror of darkness stretching behind and beyond.
By Dan’s reckoning, the spiders in the first of their recent dungeons had been less stressful. The fist-sized monstrosities had bitten both Richard and Dan, but antivenin at hand had turned the painful wounds to nothing more than itchy welts, a reminder to Dan to stay behind as much as possible.
The second of the dungeons, a shard very like the first they had encountered, was explored without a hitch thanks to Marit’s skill with traps and Richard’s combat ability.
Despite their success, Richard had appeared more dejected after each one. Dan had received fifteen silver altogether from their work, and he knew Richard had been given more since he had been at greater risk on the front lines. In spite of the rewards Richard sat without speaking, his back to his roommate.
Dan lay back, looking up at the ceiling, unsure of the right words to say. “Richard,” he said finally, “exactly how much do you owe?”
Richard turned to face him. He hadn’t been getting much sleep as of late. Dan could see the dark rings under his eyes. Richard pulled a crumpled paper from a pouch at his waist and threw it across the room.
Dan picked up the paper, sitting up and wincing as he scraped his various wounds, and opened the paper. Fourteen guilders. Dan felt cold. How could someone have borrowed so much money? “Wh-what? How?”
“We’re poor,” said Richard. “Tarissa and me.” There was no hint of amusement in his voice. “No ordinary bank would’ve given us the money we needed to take care of our parents’ debts. Mom became an adventurer to pay it off and never came back. It was up to us. I could work for it, for or...” he trailed off, clenching his fist.
“This was my option. The University offers loans to people who apply with recommendation. I got one.” Richard’s voice caught. “I did something I’m… not proud of. But I got my letter, and I got the money. And if we can stay long enough to graduate, we’ll have all the learning we need to make our way in the world.”
Dan thought back to his childhood. When he had lived in London, all Dan had wanted was a normal family, and he had gotten that wish. It wasn’t something Da
n had ever taken for granted, no matter how much he dreamed of adventure during long days spent in the fields. Richard hadn’t been so lucky. “Why don’t you accept the military’s offer?” Dan asked. “You’d be able to wipe out your debt for sure.”
Richard looked away. “I could never do that,” he said. “I’m not going to do what my father did.”
“What?” Dan remembered Richard’s bitterness at the ceremony announcement. Was Richard’s father a soldier?
“He’s still out there, as far as I know,” said Richard. “Dad left us with massive debt, and we’ve not seen a single penny of his wages.” He sat on the cold floor, head tilted back. “Imagine if I left and didn’t come back. Maybe I’d die, maybe I’d get lost in some foreign country, maybe I’d forget the life I used to have because the new one was just so much better.”
He looked at Dan with tear-filled eyes, nakedly unashamed. “Imagine what it would do to Tarissa, to have the only people she belongs to in the world leave her, one after another. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
Dan turned so he didn’t have to see his friend’s face. “I’m sorry.” His mind reeled. Tarissa had said this was their final chance to pay off their debt. The siblings had struggled through years of barely scraping by, but had inevitably reached the end of their resources. Dan remembered Marit’s words about not needing a degree to help people. Maybe there was something he could do. “I have to go.” Dan walked out of the room and counted the coins in the pouch around his neck. He hoped there was enough.
***
Dan slammed open the fencing den’s door. The woman at the counter glared. “You again,” she spat. “Get your books somewhere else.”
With a dull thud, Dan dropped his money pouch onto the counter. “I need a dungeon shard,” he said. “The best one you have. As much treasure as possible. Danger is irrelevant.”
The old lady squinted at him. “Get out of my store.”
Dan reached into the pouch and pulled out ten silver pieces.
“I'm supposed to be impressed by that?”
He stacked another ten next to the first.
She tapped one finger on the counter top for a moment and then stormed out from behind the counter, entering the back room through its cloth-strip curtain. When she returned a minute later, she held in her hand a silvery lump of metal the size of a hen’s egg.
She placed it next to the dungeon coins. “The best we have. A very, very rare shard. Supposed to be lots of treasure inside.”
“What are the traps and monsters?”
Her smile was cold and malevolent. “I haven’t the faintest idea. Besides, you said that didn’t matter.”
Dan nodded and reached for the shard, but the shopkeeper pulled it away.
“Not for so little.” She looked at the bag. “Double it.”
“I’ll give you five more—”
The old woman laughed. “Marit’s favors won’t do you any good here. Miracles, even she’d know better than to whittle down something like this.” Her gaze was calm and contemptuous. “Pay the price or get the hells out of my shop.”
Dan considered taking his coins and leaving, but the look on Richard’s face haunted him. The tears on his friend’s face threatened to bring some to his own.
He took back five silver coins and placed a guilder down. His heart pounded. On a hunch, Dan had taken a two-guilder loan before coming. A small fortune. He had hoped it would have been unneeded. “There,” he said. “Now get me the paperwork.”
She gave a toothless, malicious smile and slapped down a yellowed sheet of parchment. “Thank you for your business,” she said in a voice as sweet as rotting apples. “Please come again.”
Dan picked up his now-light pouch, tucking inside the gleaming shard. He clenched a fist and left, and decided he would never return.
***
Tor Pin adjusted his glasses for the sixth time in fifteen minutes. “I-I just don’t know,” he said. “There’s so little information here.” He set down the paperwork and peered into the silvery shard’s surface again. “I have no idea what's down there.”
“And the University library doesn’t have much information,” said Marit. Three thick volumes sat before her, the heaviest of which she paged through as she spoke.
Beside her, Dan investigated a second book. The library had a scarce few books on dungeon delving, describing the more common shards which great numbers of dungeoneers corroborated. Only the volume in Dan’s hands made any mention of silver shards. It described a species of monster called gnolls, seven-foot fur-covered beastmen with an affinity for polearms. They sounded deadly.
The book also spoke of an enormous amount of treasure.
“Don’t do it, guys,” said Richard. His usual energy had faded.
Dan looked up in surprise. “What are you talking about?”
His friend stared down at the pitted and stained tabletop. “This isn’t why you all joined. I don’t need anyone’s charity.”
Tarissa’s eyes narrowed. “You kind of do, bro.”
“I don’t want it, then.” Richard made as if to rise and leave, but his sister grabbed his arm.
“You’ve put yourself at the most risk out of any of us, last year and this!” Her voice rang sharply, and students from a nearby table looked over. Tarissa let go and picked up her fork again, ignoring the outside attention. “Don’t let everything go to waste because of your pride or whatever.”
“No… It’s not that.” Richard looked up. “Just, why, Dan? Nobody asked you to get this shard.”
Dan remembered again the night of his rescue. He saw the look of resolve on the face of the black-cloaked man, how the flames that fell and bloomed filled the whole air with their desiccating heat. He saw the pain in his rescuer’s face and the knowledge that without his arrival, Dan would have surely and horribly died.
If Dan couldn’t do something so much less, giving up mere money to help the person who had been the first to welcome him into the new world of the University, how could he live up to the example of his black-cloaked savior? “We’re a team,” said Dan. “We look out for each other.”
The club nodded in affirmation. Even Tor Pin, normally apprehensive, seemed confident.
“Any of you would have done the same for me,” continued Dan. “Besides, with all the treasure we’ll get, just think of it as an investment.” He forced an insincere grin and was rewarded by the smiles of the rest of the club.
“All right,” said Richard, though his mood didn’t seem improved. “Let’s do this. Anyone want out?”
Tarissa snorted. “I’m not backing out now.”
Marit seemed apprehensive, but shrugged and set down her book. “Nothing for it but to go on."
Tor Pin was the only remainder. He fiddled with his spectacles again and adjusted his collar. “Um.” He looked down at the paper. “Oh, all right. I have a bad feeling about this, but I knew there would be trouble when I joined. I won’t back out now.” He half grinned, rubbing the fabric of one oversized sleeve between a finger and thumb.
Tarissa reached out and took the silver shard. “All right, then. In two days, at eight in the morning, we’ll enter the silver shard dungeon.”
“Great,” said Marit. “Now, please, let’s eat dinner.” She poked at the stew in front of her, which had grown cold as their discussion had lengthened. “If it’s even edible.”
Dan sighed in relief as conversation turned to other topics. It would be all right.
***
“I now summon the Gate of Mana.” Tor Pin stepped back. Something was wrong. The shard hung suspended in the air, screaming. That was the only word for it. It wasn’t a thing he heard in his ears, but a resonant rattling in his bones and teeth. Trees shuffled and whispered as though a breeze wafted through their branches, but the day was still and hot.
Tor Pin looked back at his friends. They stared at the shard, transfixed. He turned and gasped as it flattened into a perfectly round mirror which hung as though affixed to
an invisible wall. It was... not right. That was all he could think, though he knew in a slow-moving part of his mind, buried under magical torpor, that he should revert the gate and get everyone away before the shard entered phase state.
He tried to raise his hand, but felt as though he was immersed in a vat of thick mud, unable to speak and chilled with vile slime. He needed to act. He needed to—
The shard’s flat plane shattered into a thousand mirrored slivers, and Tor Pin fell into every one of them. He heard the gasps and screams of his friends as they followed him, plunging into the dark below, into the dark beyond, into the sea that swallowed them whole.
***
Grass brushed Dan’s cheek, and the warm scent of loamy earth filled his lungs. He sat up, wiping the side of his face which had been pressed into the ground. No one was missing, but neither was anyone else conscious.
No—Ruckus was awake, too. He stood even as Dan did. “Well,” he said. “That was a bit of a shock.” He scampered over to Richard and nosed the boy’s face, urging him awake.
Groaning, a headache pounding in his head, Dan moved from club member to member, shaking their shoulders to wake them. They fluttered awake quickly, recovering their bearings, standing and looking around with small confused remarks and pained groans.
When he was sure everyone was safe, Dan sat against a boulder and sighed, rubbing his head. They had arrived on a vast plain covered in coarse, yellow-green grass. Thick twining trees dotted the landscape every few hundred feet, and boulders of what looked like granite broke through the ground in places. Through the thin clouds above, it looked to be early evening. Dan felt cold even though the light of the setting sun warmed his skin.
“Look,” said Tor Pin. The Mystic held the silver dungeon shard in his hand.
“What?” asked Tarissa. “It didn’t stay open? I didn’t read anything about this in the books.”
“Guys, look.” It was Richard. He pointed to the south, and Dan squinted. He could just barely make out a large, dark shape in the distance. It was the only thing besides trees and boulders visible in any direction, though he couldn’t make out its actual size at their distance.
The Black Librarian Archives Page 6