by Dante King
My spike-soled boots sent clacking echoes bouncing between the rough stone walls, but I didn’t care about being quiet. I finally found two smaller rats in a tiny crevice that led to the city gutters.
I raised both hands at the same time and sent both knife and axe hurtling for the pair of them. My axe made short work of the rat on my right side, but the remaining rat managed to escape my knife’s blade. And instead of skulking off into the shadows, it jumped straight at me, teeth bared. My knife lay limp behind it and now blocked a rivulet of blood streaming from the ax-struck rat’s rump. I simply twisted sideways, turning my back to my attacker and bending my left knee to position my boot sole in the rat’s trajectory. The rat did my job for me, impaling itself on the spikes. They might not have been enough to kill the bigger ones, but this one was left stuck to the boot. I firmly stomped my left foot on the ground and heard the crunch of its bones and skull breaking. That was that.
I remembered the first time I had been sent down to the catacombs as glorified pest control. I had actually given the rats more credit than they deserved. They may have looked ferocious, a little scary even, but in the end, they were merely large vermin who fed off magical energy.
I put my knife away and cleaned the blood off my axe blade. Of course, it hadn’t failed me. I remembered the day my father gave me my first axe; it had been my 13th birthday. Ever since, it had been my preferred tool and weapon. In many ways, it became an extension of myself. Holding an axe didn’t only remind me of where I came from, but also of the future I had envisioned for myself as the naive country boy I used to be.
Of course, none of my lofty aspirations had involved chasing down large rats underneath the Arcanum of Trysca, but I figured I had to start somewhere. Life did not always take the path you envisioned, but if you worked hard enough and were patient, you could achieve anything you wanted. My father had taught me that.
I spun my axe around in my hand and kept walking. I could sense another rodent nearby. Its magic was faint, but I could smell its fetid stink. I stood still for a moment, trying to sense the rat’s presence. Soon, I saw it was only a few feet away, cowering in a corner. I took two steps forward, then stepped left and leaned over. He was hidden in the shadow behind a large arch, at the other side of which a small torch was burning. But I didn’t need to see clearly to use my ax. I threw it with trademark precision and was rewarded with a dull thud and a piercing cry. I sensed the creature’s magic drain slowly as it breathed its last painful breaths.
I sighed with relief as I retrieved my weapon axe yet again. That was the last one. I could finally go back to the calm brightness of the library to finish my patrol. I was making my way back the way I had come when the powerful combined scent of magic and perfume hit me as hard and as suddenly as an assassin. She was close… the beautiful mage with the deep blue eyes. Her scent was a welcome relief after the constant putrid stink of dead meat and fresh blood. As suddenly as her enthralling odor, the mage herself appeared right in front of me when we turned the corner at the same time.A gasp escaped her lips, and after a moment’s confusion, I gave a little chuckle of relief. She looked at me with those wild blue eyes and glanced about her frantically as though she were worried about being caught.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
She paused, and I could tell from her expression that she wasn’t sure she should answer me at all. Then, her eyes slid down and landed on the axe in my hand. I had succeeded in wiping off most of the blood, but little blotches of congealed fluid still stuck to the satiny blade.
“We have an infestation problem here,” I explained, resting my blade axe in its sling.
The purple haze of magic that surrounded her seemed to glow a little darker. Was she scared of something?
“You use an axe to get rid of them?” she asked.
I smiled at the look of distaste on her face; I was used to it, especially coming from people like her. She was definitely highborn. I could make out the silky black sheen of her hair even after being flattened by her dark green cloak.
“It’s surprisingly effective,” I said, giving her a wider, cheeky grin. “Speaking of our furry friends, someone got to a couple before me. You wouldn’t happen to have any idea who, would you?”
She had clearly not been listening. “I’m sorry. I have to leave.”
“Leave?”
“The dungeons,” she replied. “I… I’m not supposed to be here.”
I felt her magic pulse fiercely within her. I wondered if she was aware of how deeply powerful she was; almost certainly she knew. How could you have so much magical ability and not know?
“Do you have a trial coming up?” I asked casually.
“Uh… yes,” she nodded.
Patently a lie. “If you need to use the library, I can show you the way,” I said. “I’m heading back there myself.”
Suddenly, a thud echoed its way down to us from high above the dungeon’s ceiling. “No,” the mage said with a slight jolt, cringing at the sound. “I think I need to find my way back to the city.”
“You don’t know the way out?”
“I’ve been walking around in circles. I don’t come here often… I got lost.”
I was about to offer my help when a deafening crash reverberated through the floors and walls of the dungeon. Thick droplets of moisture—that always hung from the ceiling ready to trickle down— dripped onto the floor audibly all around, making soft hissing sounds as they hit the torches now rattling in their iron sockets. I concentrated hard as the last echoes died down and smelled the faint but undeniable scent of magic. And not the good kind. She must have seen the expression on my face, because she looked toward me helplessly.
“What’s happening?” she asked with a shaky voice.
“I need to get back to the library,” I said.
“There’s somebody out there,” she said.
Was it possible she could sense magic, like me?
“Why don’t you come with me? You’ll be safer with me, until we find out what’s going on,” I said.
I didn’t want to add that I thought she should stay close for her own protection, but she seemed to have the same idea. She took a step toward me, giving me another strong whiff of her perfume. There were hints of spice dancing among the floral notes.
I led her back through the maze of arches, corridors, and pathways, and finally up the spiral staircase that would take us back to the library. She stayed close to me, and I could hear her fearful breathing. I wondered how a powerful mage could be so scared, and my curiosity got the best of me.
“Where are you from?” I asked, glancing back at her for a moment.
She dropped her eyes. “Nowhere important,” she replied. Another lie. Apparently, I didn’t inspire a lot of trust.
“My name is Kurt,” I said, hoping I could get the ball rolling.
She nodded, but it was obvious her lips would remain sealed. I smiled privately, enjoying our physical proximity., There was nothing like a beautiful, mysterious woman to get your blood running hot.
I led her to one of the entrances to the most important reliquary. It was also the perfect place to hide, a room with few visitors. I paused in the middle of bringing my hand up to the handle.
“What is it?” she asked.
I brought my head up close to the door. The thick wood seemed to be vibrating with unease. I could sense a cacophony of magic on the other side. I glanced back at her, wondering if it had been a mistake to bring her.
“Stay close to me, and you’ll be fine,” I instructed. I wasn’t sure that was true, of course, but it was important for her not to panic right now.
She nodded once, and I pushed open the door all the way. “Dear Gods,” I heard her breathe behind me as I looked around in horror.. The reliquary had been desecrated. Plinths had been knocked down, glass lay strewn all around, and the smell… I could sense tainted spells everywhere. They coated the air like morning dew. I moved to the closest fallen plinth and caught th
e tangy aftertaste of fire.
“The Thorned Lash,” I said under my breath.
“What?” she asked, her voice more powerful as she grew more curious.
I got to my feet and was by her side in two long strides. “You need to stay here and hide,” I said, keeping my voice low. “It’s not safe.”
“You’re leaving me here?” she gasped, her eyes wide with panic.
“I’ll come back for you as soon as I can,” I said, and after a brief glance around, I walked over to a bookcase in the corner and slid it to the left, revealing a small recess that could fit at least two people. “Stay here ‘til I get back.”
She raised her eyebrows as she followed me to the hiding place. “What if you don’t come back?”
I smiled. “Come now; have a little faith in me.”
“I don’t know you.”
“Well, if we survive this, we’ll try to correct that,” I said, giving her a small wink.
What I hoped by a romantic moment was broken by a crash that resonated through the library’s gilded walls. She gasped and backed up against the bookcase. “Where are the other guards?”
I had been thinking the same thing. I could barely sense any of the guards’ magic. “Stay here,” I repeated.
At that, she reached out and grabbed my hand. I met her gaze, and for a moment, her intoxicating aura took my senses hostage.
“Be careful,” she said.
I smiled. “Always am.”
Not exactly the truth, but it was what she needed to hear. I left her in the hiding place and stepped out of the reliquary. Only now I saw the two guards lying flat on the floor at the other end of the corridor. They were either dead or knocked out. I walked over and knelt down for a closer look. I recognized both men: Darwin and Coffer. Both had been guards for longer than I, and both were Grade A assholes. They took their cue from Barick, but I wasn’t about to hold that against them now. I checked for a pulse from Darwin first and then from Coffer. Both were breathing, but barely.
I knew I needed to get them help, but first, I needed to make sure whoever had done this was out of the library. I concentrated hard and tried to feel the flow of magic. The problem was interference, the concentration of magical energy in one place leading to inevitable signal confusion. The library was pulsating with energy; I could feel it ricocheting off the walls and dancing around the magical objects.
With that option out the window, I decided to fall back on logic. The only reason someone would choose to attack the Arcanum was, quite obviously, to steal something. There were hundreds of magical artifacts, ranging in power. But there was no doubt that there could be only one artifact they would be after: the Terminus Seal. I didn’t know much about it; I knew mainly what everybody knew, that it was one of Trysca’s most prized possessions and the most powerful artifact in the library. Whoever had broken in here would want that, nothing else.
I rushed toward the Tryscian Hall, hoping I wasn’t too late, and came across two more guards, both petrified. Hard, granite-like scales covered their bodies, and they stared out at me with terrified eyes.
“I’ll get help, hang in there,” I told them—I knew they could hear me, even though they were unable to move—before sprinting on to my destination.
I could sense all the different spells that had been used: the burning heat of the Thorned Lash, the dry mustiness of Petrification, the soft caress of Telekinesis, and the acrid smoke of stained spells; it singed the air with its biting aura. I was almost there when I caught sight of another guard. He had been flung into the banister of one of the grand staircases. His features had been crushed into an indistinguishable mush. I didn’t need to use any sense but my sense of logic to know he had been killed by Magefire. I glanced down when the glint of soft sunlight reflecting off the Captain’s badge caught my eye. “Barick,” I breathed.
I was furious. Not one of the guards deserved to die this way, whether or not I considered them to be my friend. I pulled out my axe with a bull’s determination and walked into the hall just in time to see three robed mages leaving the area by one of the floating staircases on the other side of the room. One of them had the Terminus Seal in hand.
“Stop!” I yelled, gripping my weapon axe a little tighter, still marching toward them
Two of them turned to me with a mockingly leisured pace, nudging each other in amusement. One of them was tall with long platinum blond hair that loosely hung to his shoulders. The other was short and squat and had a long scar snaking up the left side of his face. The third mage, the one clutching the Terminus Seal in his bare right hand, didn’t even look back. I wasn’t able to catch a glimpse of his face before he darted away. The other two stayed put. They didn’t say a word, but their intent was obvious. The only way I was getting to that seal was through them.
Fine. Killing them would certainly be more satisfying than exterminating those rodents in the catacombs.
“Go,” the blond mage told the shorter one. “I’ll deal with him.”
“We need to leave,” the short one replied.
“Let me clear out the rabble first,” he said cockily. “It won’t take me a minute. He’s just a Zero.”
I gritted my teeth and stepped forward. “Bring it on, you son of a bitch,” I said as the shorter mage disappeared over the floating bridge. “And make sure you use your magic. That’s the only thing that evens the playing field between us.”
I probably should have kept my mouth shut, but my anger was clouding my judgment—a recurring theme in my life, as I was often reminded of. Oh, well, perhaps I enjoyed the rush of recklessness. The blond mage lifted his hands, and sparks of fire burst from his fingertips.
“You have a big mouth for a man with no magic,” the mage told me pleasantly.
“What do you want with the seal?” I asked, ignoring the repeated provocation.
“What every mage wants with it,” the intruder replied. I frowned, and he laughed out loud. “You don’t know what it can do??” He cocked his head ever so slightly.
I gripped the haft of my ax, ready to send it spinning toward him. I would have only one chance to make the hit. If I missed, I was as good as dead.
“I don’t need to know,” I replied. “That seal is not going to leave this library.”
“A dozen library guards couldn’t stop us,” the mage said condescendingly. “What makes you think you can stop me?”
On the last word, he sent a rod of fire hurtling toward me before I could even think of taking aim myself. The rod was almost white and perfectly smooth, with crackles running up and down its length, impatient to leap out and electrify their victim. I dashed aside and rolled behind a magic-reinforced glass cabinet, one of the few objects in the room that had managed to survive the pillaging. Heat prickled my extremities, but the sensation was not unpleasant.
“Sometimes,” I spoke from behind the glass cabinet, “it takes an ordinary human to get the job done right.”
The mage laughed, but I’m not sure whether he said anything in reply because a sudden shimmering haze engulfed my body immediately after. I moved my arm, and the dull glow followed the movement. Had he cast some strange spell on me or was this something else?
“If you were a smart man, you would have run from me,” the mage taunted.
I stepped out from behind the glass cabinet and looked straight at him. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m not the running type.”
The mage glowered before sending another bolt straight at me. I tried to avoid it with a spin to the side and a dive-roll further away, but the flames succeeded in nicking the side of my arm. I felt the bite of heat, and my heart skipped a beat, but I wasn’t burned. That hit should have taken my arm off clean, but I was still standing, still in fighting form.
The mage looked at me in a sudden panic. He had expected this to be an easy fight. It was my turn to smile. “I hope you have a few more tricks up your sleeve,” I said as I vaulted over the fallen red-gold plinth, with my axe at the ready.
2
What the blond mage had failed to consider—what all mages thought themselves above considering—was that magic carried an imprint. If you fixated on this imprint long enough, you could uncover its secrets and predict its patterns. More crucially, you could defeat the mage who brought forth the magic just by paying attention.
Which was why the mage was dumbstruck, looking down at me with wide eyes; he had expected to be out of the library by now.
“Someone’s looking a little pale?” I said, matching his earlier condescending tone. “Is that fear I smell?”
“Shut your mouth, fool,” the mage roared.
Sparks burst from his hands, and I sensed the bolt of fire before it had even left his hands. I ducked to the left and narrowly missed the flames. The strange aura enveloping me absorbed the heat and dissipated it along the shimmering surface. I didn’t know where the hell it had come from, but I wasn’t about to question something that could very well save my life.
I laughed. “Was that all you got?” I asked, goading the tall mage into another attack.
I wasn’t pestering him just for shits and giggles, though it sure was satisfying. Another thing about magic was that it didn’t just take skill; it also took mental and emotional strength. And if you used a significant amount of magic, it would leave you drained, weak, and as helpless as you were the day you were born.
The flames sprouting from the mage’s hands had already begun to shrink and flicker. Pyromancy was a difficult art to master, and this particular mage had just about burnt out his energy reserves dealing with the other library guards.
The scent of scorched air filled my nostrils just in time to announce another burst of flame erupting from the still-powerful mage’s hands. I ducked behind a large ornate bookshelf, the contents of which now lay scattered across the floor. The fire hit the wood and singed the corners of the shelves, but it didn’t catch; that gave me enough time to tuck and roll across the hall toward the tall alabaster windows.