“Is that from Caper’s creek?” Simon whispered, fearful of the cavern echo.
“As deep as we are now, most assuredly,” Dick responded casually. “The river is probably flooded this time of year. Good thing we don’t need to go in that direction!” He laughed, continuing forward.”
Simon regarded the passageway which was made inaccessible by the amount of stagnant water. Simon didn’t understand how the man could be so confident. Mr. Todd was certain he could hear all manner of creatures stirring outside the radius of torchlight.
The yawning cavern corridors split twice. For the first, Mr. Dashing knew the way immediately, remembering the cluster of Rain Cap mushrooms that signalled the correct path the first time he’d endeavored the wrym’s lair. On the second crossroads he paused however.
“Right is right? Left bereft?” he muttered, grasping his chin between thumb and pointer. “Or was I to do the opposite? “
“Have you really forgotten?” Miss Baxter asked, cocking an eyebrow before glancing in the direction of both paths.
“No.” Dick pursed his lips. “It’s probably right.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “Where’s your sense of adventure?” he said flatly, hands in the air in a mocking imitation.
“Quite right you are, Mr. Todd!” Dick nodded, proud of the young accountant. “Perhaps we should just toss a coin?”
Fae perked up. “A dice! Let’s toss a dice!” she demanded, digging into her pocket for one of the ivory die she kept at all times. “Odds is left, evens is right.”
Dashing grinned. “Whichever way you roll we ought to go the opposite, I reckon. Just considering your luck, Miss Hershal.” The gunslinger laughed.
Fae frowned.
Simon sighed, looking at Miss Baxter and inadvertently thinking how lovely she looked in the light of her own magic. Cosette was regarding him from the other side. Mr. Todd nodded in her direction with a smile.
“Right!” Simon winced at how loud the two of them were, shushing them a minute later.
“I rolled left,” Fae said.
“So, we’ll go right.” Dashing turned, pivoting on his heel. “I’m sure right is right anyway. Off we go ladies and gents!”
“This is fun.” Cosette beamed, clapping her hands together.
Simon smiled, but had to disagree. It was entirely stressful. He was just waiting for a dragon to pop out and roast them all. He was certain in fact, that it was only a matter of time before they were all smears of soot on the cavern wall.
“I’ve a bad feeling,” He muttered beneath his breath.
But the light was leaving, and Mr. Todd was much too much a coward to go back now, especially without his friends, Miss Baxter and Cosette.
“It’s alright, Mr. Todd,” Miss Baxter called, sensing his thoughts. “Dragonfire would most probably go right through you.”
But not you or Cosette. He pressed his lips into a thin line, thinking of Mortimer Grim.
Let’s go, Simon Todd. Dragons don’t frighten you! But they did, most assuredly.
The dice, and alternatively Miss Hershal’s luck, proved accurate in the wake of Mr. Dashing’s good sense. The barrier holding the contents of the dragon treasure hummed with red light. It was a speck in the distance, and slowly grew to encompass the entirety of the cavern passage as they approached. Fissures in the cavern walls, overgrown with fungus and lichen, were awash in scarlet while trickling water settled within clefts of small stalagmites pulsed in the lurid light.
“There it is.” For once, Mr. Dashing was quiet in the awe of the Spellcraft.
“It’s beautiful,” Cosette remarked, all six eyes aglow.
The party wasn’t directly in front of the barrier. In fact, they were a good thirty meters away. From beyond it was hard to see anything at all, treasure or the like, but as they continued forward Mr. Todd was sure he saw something shimmering beyond.
“There’s something odd about this barrier,” Dashing said. “I can’t quite remember what it is, though.”
Simon stopped, his eagerness waning with the thought of danger. “Will it hurt us?”
“No. Just, it does something rather queer when you approach it.”
“It shouldn’t affect you Mr. Todd, whatever it is,” Miss Baxter proclaimed.
Simon wondered what it could be. He continued on, now slightly ahead of the others. He could definitely see something now, a large mound that was illuminated by the barrier. His eyes grew wider as he began to pick out objects: chests, swords, coins from beyond.
“Dragon treasure?” he heard himself say, caught up so much in his wonderment that he unknowingly left the radius of Miss Baxter’s light circle and dropped the leather of Salvador’s reins.
It was everything he could ever imagine. Gold littering the cavern floor like sand dunes, piled into heaping mounds and scattered about the floor. So immersed was the young accountant he didn’t even notice that he had walked right through the barrier until he looked back. His eyes were as big as dinner plates as it roamed the immense collection of wealth before him.
“There’s more gold here than in the bank at Darlington!” he shouted. The room was large with no outer corridors. The ceiling arched into a dome and though the gold was bright in the light of the magic, it was covered in soot and ash. There were a few bones scattered about, but they were animal bones and only a tad frightening to the ghostly accountant.
“How does an overgrown lizard collect so much wealth?” Simon asked, stooping to regard a shining ruby the size of his thumb. It was the color of Jane’s spectacles, and the young Frelish gentleman found himself stuffing it into his briefcase, after momentarily solidifying himself of course, before he’d had a chance to think about it.
“You know, I’m not sure why we even bothered coming.”
Simon looked behind him, surprised at the tone in Mr. Dashing’s voice. His friends were all standing before the entrance, each one with lips turned up in an odd expression of boredom. Miss Baxter with her green dress, iridescent in the light of her crook, and Cosette with diamond-like webbing about her arms, all looked rather downtrodden, while Mr. Dashing huffed, turning about in a moment of temper.
“Who cares about dragon gold anyway?” Miss Baxter agreed. “It’s just shiny rocks after all.”
Simon cocked a brow as he walked back towards them, briefcase in hand.
“Where are you going?” he asked, holding out his arms as he looked about himself. “The gold’s here!”
Miss Baxter sighed, hanging her head low as her sunny curls fell forward beneath her chin. “I don’t really think gold will solve anything, to be honest,” she said, sounding a bit demoralized. “Perhaps I’ll just have to rely on power and Mortimer to take over Grimguild.”
“Let’s go, Simon,” she continued, looking back over her shoulder with a brief gesture of her hand. “Let’s all go back to Darlington.”
“I don’t understand any of you!” the Frelish gentleman tutted, walking headlong through the barrier. “We come all this way, go through all this trouble and you all want to turn around and go home? Fae?”
“What do I need money fer, Mr. Todd? I’m a rich bank owner’s daughter.”
“You’re a bloody gambling fiend!” He could feel his frustration reddening his face. “And what about you? Didn’t you want money to buy the damned circus, Mr. Dashing?”
“I can win Cherie another way.” He dismissed the idea with a tip of his hat.
“And Penelope!” Simon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What about the university? Your mother, Rebecca?”
The shepherdess was silent, retreating down the passage from whence they came.
“What in the blinking blue blazes is going on with you three?”
“Stop being a hot head—” But even before the words left his mouth, Mr. Dashing paused, turning towards the other three before frowning. Mr. Todd glanced between them as they all stopped, looks of confusion evident upon their features as he continued to step forward, reluctant t
o leave the gold and treasures behind.
“What in the seven hells are we talking about? Of course I want gold!” Mr. Dashing shouted, turning around completely until he was eye to eye with Simon Todd.
“And I gotta repay me Pops fer all that money I borrowed!” Fae scratched her head, a few white blonde hairs falling away between her fingers.
Simon breathed a sigh of relief as the four turned around one again, making their way back towards him.
“But on the other hand,” Fae continued. “Carrying it all up that slope is bound to be bloody hell!”
“Dick Dashing doesn’t need gold to win the hearts of young ladies,” he said, stomping his foot and standing resolute. “I’ll challenge that vagabond to a duel and win the circus for myself!” He brushed the end of his moustache, looking quite smug as he turned away.
“I’ll follow you guys,” Cosette said softly after.
“Hello?” Simon was woefully confused. He watched again as the party turned around, beckoning him to follow before once again they stopped.
“But we did come all this way. Shouldn’t we at least take something?”
Miss Baxter turned her head, glancing over her shoulder. “Power is nice, but Morty doesn’t always come out to lend a hand.”
“If anything, I could buy a new pistol to ensure I win against that stripe wearing ragamuffin!” Dashing swerved on both heels, kicking up dirt behind him.
“Gambling, gambling, gambling, gambling! Always need gold to gamble!”
But again, as before and the time after, they found excuses not to go forward more than a few steps and turned about after a moment, resolute that the gold didn’t matter and they were all fine and dandy without it.
“You’re all mad!” Simon shouted. “Go home! I’ll take it all for myself.” They were here! He was going to take it. By the time everyone else stopped walking back and forth in indecision, the dragon was bound to drop down and devour them all. At least when they finally decided they did indeed want the gold, Simon could save the day with a few sacks he had collected. He didn’t care how much he had, but he did want Miss Baxter to be happy. He wanted to help her and perhaps buy his mother a nice gift in the least.
“There is something strange about this barrier,” Dashing repeated, pausing at the edge of the light illuminating off the wall of magic. “I can’t seem to make up my mind at the moment, but I’m pretty sure there’s something wrong here.”
“It’s the magic surrounding it!” Miss Baxter took a step forward, closed her eyes then retreated back. “It’s a Nonchalant Blockade.”
Simon perked up at the surprise in Miss Baxter’s voice, looking back curiously.
“How can a blockade be nonchalant?” Dashing removed his hat, his turn to give his noggin a scratch.
“No, no!” Miss Baxter said, “It’s a type of spell. It evokes feelings in the trespasser so they no longer wish to pass through it. In this case, it’s telling us we no longer desire the gold.”
Months ago, Mr. Jane Darcy had been very confused upon casting the spell and realizing as he went to lay down amongst his usual pile of gems that he no longer wanted to be surrounded by his gold. He had been half way down the tunnel in fact, before he realized how absurd the sentiment was and endeavored to return, only to realize that the feeling had come back again. After a few rotations along the rocky corridor, the now very ornery dragon realized perhaps the Spellcraft he so clumsily cast also affected him in the same way as it did others.
He would have been very red in the face if anyone found out he had so bungled the magic scroll, but as it was, no one could tell the dragon had indeed locked himself out of his own hoard.
“Well this is a pickle, isn’t it?” Mr. Dashing regarded the red blockade, scrunching his lips together in thought. “Can you break it, Miss Baxter?”
The sorceress smiled, drawing in a lungful of air through her nose. “I don’t know. It will take some time to mull over I’m afraid. I can’t get too close to examine it without not caring about it.”
“So we just gotta sit ‘ere and wait fer you to uncast this thing?” Fae snorted, collapsing on the floor with her legs crossed. “Lovely,” she said.
“Perhaps we can load up some gold in the meantime?” Cosette’s voice was soft in the dark, but notably chipper. “Since the magic doesn’t work on Simon, maybe it won’t work on Salvador?”
Miss Baxter’s eyes widened with excitement. “Oh Cosette, you’re so bright!” she said. Snapping her fingers, Simon palled as the chains about Miss Baxter’s limbs began to form once again. Stepping back, away and into the darkness beyond the light of her shepherd’s crook, effervescent mist began to pour at the young girl’s feet, turning into veins of liquid as it rushed toward the barrier. Mr. Todd jumped as it passed him, keeping his feet between the empty cracks as the old, discarded bones from within the treasure chamber began to clatter with life atop the pool of magic.
“Oh gods.” He sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow as the remains of a mountain goat stirred and sat up.
“Take some of the sacks off old Salvador and tie them to that creature, Simon! We’ll help you as soon as I’ve gotten this Nonchalance Blockade down.”
Mr. Todd sighed. It was going to take a lot of work to materialize long enough to collect all these coins into sacks. But really, what could he say?
“Alright, Miss Baxter. Do try and hurry.” He felt rather exasperated at the sudden turn of events.
Perhaps I should have endeavored to fall down the cavern path myself. He slipped back into his corporeal form, watching as Salvador ambled his way up the passage.
“Come along you, brain addled beast,” he called to the boney mountain goat as he flung open his briefcase. “Once I get this filled you can carry it.”
Chapter 40
Brew The Fire And The Flames
It was twenty minutes of shuffling gold coin, moving cumbersome, and often incredibly heavy ornaments, and examining brighter than stars gemstones before he’d sat down for a break. Simon Todd had to admit rifling through treasure wasn’t as terrible as he thought it would be, though he was awfully tired.
He managed eight sacks and would have filled nine had the first not been so heavy that he couldn’t lift it upon the creature’s back. Simon had pre-emptively tied the rest before loading them after that, and heaved more gems onto the top to decrease weight. He was a bit worried that the two undead beasts would collapse from the bulk of the loaded hoard, but Miss Baxter had been adamant the creatures would be able to sustain the burden.
“How is that dispel magic coming?” Simon called, wiping beads of sweat from his brow.
Miss Baxter had been trying her best to bring down the blockade, but without being able to approach it, things were proving very difficult.
“It’s not really my expertise,” she said, grinding her teeth together. “I thought perhaps it would simply require a blast spell, but I can’t just destroy the area around a blockade such as this. The area of effect is too big.”
Most of the others found themselves a good sitting stone after twenty minutes, and were sitting about the passage with a pot of tea on the boil. Fae mentioned that perhaps they should go back to retrieve Mr. Darcy, but as of yet no one had endeavored to get up.
“What about your Hell Lord?” Cosette asked, looking up. She was working on some kind of cloth, weaving intricate patterns in and out along with webbing with the use of her fingers. “Perhaps he’ll help us, if we ask nicely?”
“Morty?” Miss Baxter bit her lip, looking down at her right arm.
“We don’t need Mortimer Grim!” Simon interrupted, lugging along his briefcase. He could smell the pungent aroma of orange pekoe and was envious of the other’s enjoyment over a cup of tea. “There are bones galore under all that gold. Just animate them like you did in Fallfield and I’ll pack it up myself.”
“It would take hours, Simon!” Cosette replied, looking up from her sewing.
“No,” he turned back, clearing his t
hroat, “not with the help of those skeletons.”
“Are they human?” Miss Baxter’s grip tightened on the shaft of her crook.
“Some, yes.” Simon pulled at his collar, loosening his tie. “Anyway, just do that. No need to involve the Grim Reaper.” Certainly not with him and Cosette in the same room.
“Thank you, Simon.” Miss Baxter’s face brightened. Simon blushed, his chest growing hot.
“Well let’s not tarry!” he said, turning to hide the flush blooming upon his cheeks. “I’m not entirely thrilled to work alongside reanimated skeletons.” Especially human ones. “But when push comes to shove, I suppose.”
The chains were more apparent as Miss Baxter called upon her magic once again, the floor beneath her cracking a bit as vapor rose from the earth. Simon was back behind the Nonchalance Blockade, way out of sight, if in fact Mortimer decided to pop in for a bit of a chin wag while she was summoning his magic.
As a few of the skeletons around him began to rise, Simon pressed his lips together, bending forward to try and busy himself with loading sacks as they went to work around him. He was certain one looked at him strange, fire pouring from its mouth, but when Mr. Todd looked again, it was just a solitary skeleton missing a few teeth with a crack sloping down his cranium.
He went about counting the coins he could gather. The hoard was quite small compared to the fields of gold storybooks told about. The repetitive behaviour calmed the gentleman every time he saw one of the undead look at him strangely. A lot of the coins were old, warped at the edges with the symbol of the Cinderstone Ziggurat on it, but others had a different version of the royal palace, with a grooved depiction of a smiling setting sun behind it. Simon hadn’t seen anything like them before, but was sure to stick a few in his briefcase to ponder over later.
It had taken close to two hours. They had the use of three human skeletons and alongside the mountain goat, two other carrying beasts Mr. Dashing identified as elk. Cosette had done her part as well by creating a few more carrying sacks with her web. Not nearly as intricate or as lovely as the creation she had spun for Mr. Todd, they did the trick nevertheless.
The Curious Case of Simon Todd Page 43