Hugo hated having only heard half the wizard’s story. Although, Itzel hadn’t gotten very far, so maybe Hugo only knew a third of the juicy details.
“Chin up, friend. You just hit the jackpot.”
“How so?”
She threaded her forearms through the bars, draping them casually on a double-thick crossbar. “I’m your way out of this dreary dungeon.”
“Really?”
Did elves have super strength? Was she going to twist the bars into pretzels?
She gave him an expectant look. “Aren’t you curious to know how I plan to get us free and clear?”
“Yes, I suspect it involves magicking away these bars and storming out some back entrance.”
“I’m a thief. A tremendously in-demand thief.”
“Oh, so lots of sneaking around. Good thing I wore my quiet shoes.” Although, being a ghost, he probably could be quiet even in his hiking boots, or those tight dress shoes whose heels really clicked no matter how light he was on his feet.
He tested his ghost sneakers, stomping the floor lightly. Not a sound. Good to know.
The elf stared at him.
His grin would put most sheep to shame. “Just checking how quiet I can be. All good.” He gave her two thumbs-up.
She stared at his thumbs, uncertain what the gesture meant.
“Thumbs pointing to the ceiling means I’m on board.”
“What is your name?”
“Hugo Hammersmith. Why?” He sensed she asked in a way that implied another motive other than knowing how to address him.
“Just wanted to know what to carve on your grave marker when I have to bury you.”
“Now you want me dead?”
“No, but I have my doubts. You’ll foul things up for yourself somehow. Just hope you don’t take me with you.”
“Well,” he pointed to himself, “I’m sort of halfway to death’s door, what with me being a ghost.”
“You say strange things. Death’s door?”
“It’s an expression. It—”
“Never mind. Do you want to leave with me or not?”
“You’re not the least bothered that I’m a ghost?”
“Nope.” She fidgeted with her necklace.
“Why’s that?”
“Because that’s what Baron Orb does. His magic is powered by the spirits he yanks out of people. I just figure he’ll drain you soon.”
Hugo sucked in a quick breath. He immediately tried to downplay his shock, but from how she sized him up, she had caught his surprise.
The elf smirked. “New information. Been out of touch with the world? Everyone in Perpetua knows what the baron does. He made a show out of draining the last poor souls just a week ago.”
“Why aren’t you a ghost?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll get around to separating me, but I don’t intend to hang around long enough for that to happen.” She winked.
He didn’t know what to say. He felt lost. He highly doubted the elf could break them out. She was plenty confident, but if this baron was the big evil boss, it wouldn’t be as easy as finding a way out of their cells. There’d be guards and traps to deal with. He’d escaped from dungeons before, especially in Blade of Aryoma. Of course, he’d been a Level 50 Grim Mage when he’d done that. This was nothing like a video game. He didn’t have infinite lives and a saved checkpoint to return to.
She dropped to one knee and danced a finger along what Hugo thought was the lock. It was riddled with spikes and rusted around its keyhole. “Look, sometimes the road to being brave is a little crooked. You can’t see around every twist and turn, but you just need to have faith that the path continues for you.” She smiled. “I’m Vua.”
“I’m Hugo.”
“Yes, you already said as much.”
“Are there many humans here?”
Only those with magic in their blood—wizards, warlocks, witches, hexen.” She squinted. “You have some magic about you, but you’re quite young. Are you an apprentice?”
“Yes.”
“To what wizard?”
Hugo didn’t think it smart to mention Itzel by name. “Wizard Ohmal, tall, long black beard, likes to heap on extra duties. ‘A mystic tower doesn’t clean itself.’ ” He thought he nailed the wizard’s whiny voice. Vua didn’t have to know the necromage only existed in Maxter’s Odyssey, one of his favorite platformers.“How do you propose to get us out of our cells?”
She laughed.
He expected a nasty brute of a guard to come barreling down the hall to slap at their cell bars and order them to keep it down, but none did. He strained to listen for anyone else. Were there cells next to them?
“Should we break out anyone else in here?” he asked.
“Nope. No one other than us in this section. Not sure why we get the honor of having this place all to ourselves. I passed through two other dungeons jammed full of prisoners, mostly ghosts like you.”
“So what are you thinking of doing?”
“She smirked and stifled another laugh. “Not me, you.” She stared at his neck. “The collar is key.”
Hugo touched the restraint. “I don’t understand.”
“All you, spirits, are collared. It keeps you from ghosting through the walls and running off. The gauntwing around your neck keeps that from happening.”
Hugo cringed and grabbed at the front of his collar, suddenly aware it felt warm. “What?”
“Careful. They’re simple creatures, but you don’t want to upset it.”
The collar shifted under his hands and a small black wing sprang forward, knocking his right hand away. He removed the left himself. The wing retreated until he couldn’t see it under his chin.
Then, what he’d thought was a latch in the back . . . was that the creature’s head? Likely.
“So it’s one of those flying snake things coiled around my neck?”
She nodded. “An unmalki. The easiest gauntwing to shift.”
“Shift?” he asked, dropping his hands to his sides.
“The smaller ones can be shaped into objects by magic users. I don’t have any magic beyond being an elf, certainly no spellcasting abilities, but the magic inside you is quite potent. You should be able to override it.”
“You can sense my magic?” Hugo wished the wizard had laid out more of the rules of this place. All he knew was he could leave his body.
She removed her chain and tossed it through the bars. “Here.”
He barely caught it.
“What do you want me to do with this?”
“Wear it. I can’t do any external magic, but that’s an augmenter. It takes one’s natural abilities and multiplies them. For me, it increases my dexterity and stealth.”
“And for me?”
“Whatever you’re good at. Surely you’ve been taught some basic spells. Which ones came easy to you?”
He actually hadn’t, but could it magnify something else? He dropped the chain over his head and draped it from his neck, being careful to keep it from touching the gauntwing collar.
He was good at puzzles in video games. He stared at the large spiky lock. A lock was like a puzzle. It had tumblers or whatever to move about. Tumblers didn’t sound right. Were those in combination locks?
“Concentrate,” Vua said calmly. “Picture the collar changing into something you need.”
He focused, but not on the collar. The lock before him had gone translucent, at least its front covering had. He now viewed the lock in cross-section. Attached to springs at the top, five vertical metal rods stood in a line, their bottoms located at different heights and reaching into the channel where the key was inserted. He visualized the ups and downs of the negative space, shaping an image of the teeth of the key required to open the lock. He sensed the magical nature of the lock. It had a curse applied to it. If the person attempting to unlock it used the wrong key, the spikes extended, skewering anyone within a radius of a few feet.
“Fascinating.” Vua’s voice sou
nded far away.
The inner workings of the lock disappeared as the interruption caused the cutaway view to fade away.
Hugo became aware of a growing warmth at the center of his chest. Vua’s chain glowed and pointed forward, hanging in the air. He visualized the key again and then directed that image at the collar. The gauntwing screeched and uncoiled.
Hugo didn’t move. He kept asserting his will on the collar, demanding it shift.
The gauntwing slipped off his neck and unfurled its serpentine body. Its wings fluttered as it hovered in place outside his bars. He knew it could strike him through the gaps between the bars. Maybe barking mental commands at it wasn’t wise. ‘You catch more flies with honey’ his dad had always said. Hugo found the silly advice faulty. Why would anyone want more flies? He’d even said such to his dad, who’d then changed it up every time since. ‘You catch more bears with honey. You catch more flyballs with honey. You catch more second dates with honey.’ His mother hadn’t appreciated the dating advice one.
Hugo forced himself to return to the real world.
He held up a hand. “Easy. I have a task you will like.” He sent the gauntwing pleasant thoughts. Maybe the baron abused it, always ordering it around and treating it with scorn.
He caught Vua watching, transfixed.
“Would you help two lost souls? Offering freedom instead of holding someone hostage will make you feel better.” He hated how cheesy he sounded. He smiled.
The gauntwing stopped hissing and cocked its head. Its yellow eyes opened slightly.
“You can be more than a jailer.”
The gauntwing drifted closer. Its overall demeanor seemed tamer.
Hugo projected the image of the key at the creature, dwelling on each nook and cranny.
The gauntwing changed, reshaping itself until a replica of the key hovered in the air, staying aloft by its still-present wings.
Hugo plucked the key from the air. The wings disappeared the second he held the gauntwing. He was careful not to grip it too tightly.
Vua said, “I’m impressed. I really didn’t think you had much magic in you. Just wanted to boost your confidence.”
He slid the key into his lock. It wasn’t easy, as gripping the spiky lock from behind presented a bit of a challenge. Also, he expected the lock to sense he wasn’t the true jailer and impale him with its spikes.
He slid the key in until it could go no further. It didn’t look all the way in. He risked jiggling it. The key shoved the rest of the way in, producing a noticeable click.
Hugo paused, convinced the noise had attracted a guard.
Vua looked down the hallway. “Nobody. The guard station is on the other side of a door at the end.” She pointed to her right.
He turned the key, and the lock opened. He removed the key and whispered a silent thank you to the gauntwing.
His mind filled with pleasant thoughts. The creature was sending out its appreciation for the simple courtesy Hugo had extended it.
He carefully unhooked the weighty lock and set it down, expecting the spikes would trigger if he handled it too roughly.
He pushed open his cell door and walked into the corridor. He took in a breath, disappointed the air outside of his cell smelled just as dank as within. He’d foolishly thought his freedom would change the odor. Maybe that would happen when they got out of the dungeon itself.
Vua said, “Stop sniffing about and get on with this.”
He tackled her lock, removing it twice as fast. When he went to place it off to the side, she stopped him.
Vua took the lock and tucked it into the large front pocket of her hooded jacket.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“We can use it as a weapon.” She pointed to the other.
Hugo picked it up. Not having any pockets large enough, and also not wanting to keep the cursed item so close to his tender flesh, he held onto it.
The gauntwing in his other hand wiggled but kept its key shape. He held it up.
Its wings reappeared, and it fled his palm. It flew about, until it slowed and settled on a steady hover above Hugo’s left shoulder.
“Looks like you made a friend,” Vua said as she stalked down the corridor.
He smiled at the gauntwing, sending it a silent thanks. The creature reciprocated by sending him warm thoughts.
Vua treaded past four empty cells.
Hugo called out, “Wait, that way is the guards.”
She crouched and pressed herself against the wall as she shot him a foul look and then whispered, “Keep it down.”
Hugo drew up next to her, sticking low to the ground as well. “You want your chain back to make yourself extra sneaky?”
“Keep it for now. I’m good without it.”
He admired her confidence. The elf took charge and didn’t apologize for it, something he did when he played video games but not so much in real life.
“They’ll be two Kilkabs, big brutes. But being gauntwings, they’re not very complicated.”
Hugo glanced at the winged key, transmitting an apology to it for Vua’s assessment. He didn’t receive anything back from the gauntwing.
Vua said, “What are you doing?”
“What?”
She glanced at the key. “Were you talking to it?”
“Maybe.”
She frowned. “And were you trying to let it know my assessment of gauntwings didn’t apply to it?”
“Maybe.”
She smiled. “Okay, just checking. You’re right. I shouldn’t treat an ally like that. I need to be more like you. Being on my own for so long, I forget about the feelings of others.” She glanced at the gauntwing.
“How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
He wondered if a year in Perpetua matched up with one on Earth. He was about to ask when he caught himself. Vua assumed he was a native. She didn’t know he was from another world. While he trusted her, he wasn’t sure he wanted to complicate their relationship and drag her into his business. Truthfully, without Itzel, Lou, and Nelson, he didn’t have the foggiest what his business might be.
Defeat the bad guy, idiot. He frowned, hating how often he launched an attack on himself.
Vua crept forward, and he followed, sticking close to her heels. He eyed the lock in his hand. Just tossing it would do some damage, but if he could somehow trigger it to extend its spikes . . . he’d have a more useful grenade.
His gauntwing drifted closer and nudged his cheek. He looked up at it.
Suddenly, the image of the key snugly fitted into the lock filled his mind. The key in the vision shifted back into its snake form with its tail still jammed into the key slot.
The gauntwing had somehow received his idea without him sending it out. Instead of finding that worrisome, he was excited by their growing bond.
“Thanks, I like that.”
The gauntwing inserted itself in Hugo’s lock.
Vua watched them.
Hugo quietly explained his plan.
She nodded. “Excellent. You use yours here, and I’ll hold mine in reserve until the key can wing over to me.” She patted her pocket.
Hugo smiled and glanced forward. The door at the end of the hall was two cells away.He peered in the cells they stood next to. Like all the others, they were empty.
Vua put a hand on his wrist, the one not holding the lock grenade. “Take out the bigger guard first and then make a run for the stairs. I’ll try to snag the main gate keys.”
“We’re going out the front door?”
“Yes, it’s the closest, and I came in from above. I didn’t use a secret back entrance to sneak in.”
From above? How? Magic carpet? Dragon? He wanted to know. He also wanted to know why she’d been breaking into the digs of a major bad guy. What was worth the risk? But all those questions needed to wait.
He drew in a breath and sent the gauntwing a flood of gratitude. Hugo thought he saw the creature’s jet-black hide lighten, but that cou
ld’ve been a trick of the light.
Vua grabbed the door handle, cranked it to the right, and kicked the door hard. It flew inward, and she barreled into the next space right behind it.
The room was domed, lit by a chandelier featuring torches sputtering out blue magic. Hugo spotted two other wooden doors on the opposite wall. A staircase leading only up was wedged between the two entrances.
Two shadow creatures twice as tall as Hugo stood with their backs to them. The gauntwings spun around to spot who’d crashed into their small chamber. Their torsos and arms were thick, while their legs were slightly smaller. Their wings were folded and pressed against their shoulder blades. With heads like someone had mashed half a watermelon into their necks, and stuck curved horns above their fat ears, they were quite menacing. Broad chins riddled with black spikes imitated a beard. They each had one yellow eye, and pincers framed their toothy wide mouths.
The taller one grabbed an axe propped up against a small table. The other guard unsheathed a sword, its blade still speckled with dried blood.
“Throw it!” Vua charged forward and dove through the legs of the biggest brute. The gauntwing heaved his axe over his head and spun about to cleave her in two.
Hugo threw the lock at him. Before it hit, the key did its duty and the spikes shot out, expanding to five times their length. Four of the explosive protrusions sank into the creature’s side and upper thigh. No blood, which was fine with Hugo. Maybe they were truly made of shadows.
The gauntwing key disengaged and flew after Vua without being told. The triggered lock didn’t revert to its smaller size. Its spikes stay lodged in the gauntwing guard, who now howled and batted at it.
Realizing the guard would eventually pull free from the spikes, Hugo dashed past it and ducked to avoid the sweep of the blade from the other guard.
Vua was at the stairs, clutching a ring of keys. Hugo tried not to dwell on how the two largest keys appeared fashioned from bone.
“Outta the way!” she yelled, pulling the lock from her pocket and holding it high. The gauntwing key darted over and slotted itself in place.
Hugo stumbled and did his best to turn his spill into a dive. He hit the stone floor and scraped across. Wait, if he no longer wore the collar, why hadn’t he sunk into the ground? Shouldn’t he be able to ghost?
Heroes of Perpetua Page 14