Mercy's Trial

by Sever Bronny

  “It’s bad luck to take them off so early, Ms. Terse,” Arthur said as others began handing theirs back and scratching at their scalps.

  “You want to face the enemy scratching that empty head of yours?” Jez sniped.

  Arthur swallowed, reluctantly removed the garland, and handed it to the person behind him. Then he reached into his salt pouch, withdrew a pinch, and threw it over his shoulder, mumbling, “Unnameables forgive us.”

  Jez only shook her head and pressed the runic key to the door, whispering a pass phrase. After a squealing groan the door popped open, blasting bitterly cold air at the group.

  Augum extended his neck and raised his chin, allowing the stale air to wash over him. It stank of earth and metal and mold.

  “Shine, dimmed—just the Arcaners,” Jez commanded. There was a chorus of quiet Shyneos and eight hands lit up with a dim glow. She then led the group into the shaft, bypassing the twenty empty coal carts she and The Grizzly had used to ferry the suits of Dreadnought armor over from the Royal Armory. Augum wondered if the Canterrans had discovered the armor had been stolen. Ideally, his side could keep it a secret for as long as possible.

  The tunnel curved steadily and began sloping downhill. The group eyed the walls distrustfully, as if expecting a collapse. When they saw a glow hit the curving walls, Jez raised a fist and crouched. The procession crouched as well like a group of well-trained soldiers.

  “Snuff,” she whispered and the tunnel instantly went dark as everyone snuffed their palms. Nothing could be heard through the dome, but it was wise to get in the habit of being quiet. “Barrier ahead, possible guard detail. I’m going to scout it.” She then murmured, “Armari obscura chameleano traversa,” the Chameleon extension she had taught the trio that allowed her to move while camouflaged. “I’ll be back,” and they heard footsteps as she made her way blindly down the tunnel, using the walls as a guide.

  The tense group waited silent as stone. Augum resisted the urge to reach back for Leera’s hand. Although they had trained and were ready for the fall of the dome, he craved the comfort of her touch. To his surprise, he felt her hand on his back. He smiled in the darkness. Sure, they might be foolish and occasionally downright stupid, but they loved each other deeply.

  Before long Augum heard the sound of Jez’s footsteps returning.

  “I can’t see anyone down there, so nothing’s changed since I scouted last night,” she whispered in the pitch-darkness. “But we know they could be invisible or camouflaged. One last time—if we meet no resistance, we move as fast as we can. And we must expect traps and alarms. We disarm the traps, but leave the alarms if there are more than five as there won’t be time. Either way, we only have thirty heartbeats to disarm any traps and get across before the dome returns. It’s going to be tight, but we trained for this.” She paused to take a breath. “All right, line up along the left wall and use it as a guide. We’re going dark right up to the barrier.” She waited until they assembled along the wall. “Now let’s move.”

  They strode along at a quick pace, Haylee awkwardly double-timing it as she compensated for her limp. The Grizzly had proposed that she stay behind, but she fought tooth and nail for her right to come along as a dragoon who had successfully passed the trials. He finally relented when Jez chimed in on Haylee’s behalf, saying that it was important for the Arcaners to advance together.

  The dome barrier appeared a short way down the tunnel, glowing pale blue. Just then the bell began to toll. When it struck the seventh gong, the dome was expected to fall.

  “Shoot, we’re behind,” Jez hissed. “Arcaners get priority, with the core three in front! Move it, move it, move it!”

  The eight Arcaners raced ahead of Jez to the membrane and the trio immediately readied to cast Reveal.

  Augum counted the bell strikes in his head. Five … six … seven! And right on cue, the dome disappeared with a whoosh, plunging them once more into total darkness. Simultaneously, the trio extended their palms, incanting, “Un vun asperio aurum enchantus.”

  They inhaled sharply as a veritable sea of crimson lit up before them, turning the tunnel into a magma chamber of complex explosive enchantments. And mixed in among the traps were small patches of Object Alarm and Area Alarm enchantments. Even the walls were enchanted.

  “There’s too many to disenchant!” Augum said. “I’m going to blow them!”

  A heartbeat of stunned silence followed, for it was a command none of them wanted to hear.

  Leera whirled around, shouting, “Everyone get back—!” and helped Bridget shove people away.

  “Cover!” Jez shouted from the rear, and everyone summoned their shields.

  Augum slammed his wrists together, shouting, “Annihilo bato!” Two massive prongs of lightning shot forth, slamming into the first enchantment field. He immediately summoned his shield and ducked as the entire corridor began popping with ear-splitting explosions. Multiple fireballs whooshed over the hunkering group, lighting up the tunnel before exploding at a turn a ways down. The fireballs were quickly followed by multiple stabs of vines, shards of ice, and blasts of water. A chorus of grunts rang out as the Second Offensive spells slammed into summoned shields.

  The tunnel filled with smoke that was blown back by a powerful wind trap, sending a monstrous gust roaring their way so strong that the entire group tumbled backward, their shields acting as sails.

  “Arcaners cross first, Arcaners cross first!” Jez called from the back, coughing and wheezing along with the others.

  Augum began grabbing people and pushing them forward before bolting across the divide himself, while Jez, Ordrid and Flagon used Telekinesis to desperately fling across whoever they could.

  As bodies soared overhead, Augum had just managed to drag a flailing and coughing Mary across when the dome barrier whooshed back into existence early, instantly slicing the group in half. His side threw up an agonized wail of defeat that was silently echoed by those trapped on the other side.

  For a moment the two groups could only stare at each other in shock. Among those who didn’t make it across were two Arcaners—Alyssa and Laudine, having been shoved too far down the tunnel by the blast of wind. Both had tears running down their faces, devastated at losing their only shot at joining such an important quest.

  But only when the faces of Ordrid, Flagon and Jez appeared from the rear did Augum realize the severity of the situation. The entire plan rested on at least one arcanist making it across, for none of the students knew the Group Teleport spell that would allow them to travel quicker. Now they would have to resort to using their emergency Group Teleport scrolls, a risky and time-consuming proposition in the middle of a fight.

  Jez pressed her hands to the side of her head, mouth falling open. Then she ran up to the dome wall and banged on it, silently shouting, “Go, go, go—!”

  Augum took stock of who had made it across. Besides the trio, those who remained were Brandon, Jengo, Haylee, Arthur, Naoki, Olaf, Maxine, Ulfric, Cry and Mary. Jengo and Haylee had lost both of their protectors, and Olaf had lost one. Just like that, their group of twenty-seven strong had been cut down to only thirteen.

  “I knew it!” Maxine spat. “I told them we needed more time, but nooo, we shouldn’t listen to the silly woman, should we? Well, what are you waiting for, you fools, move it!” She grabbed Mary by the arm and was about to shove her when Augum threw an arm across their path.

  “Wait,” he said, spreading a hand before him at the tunnel ahead. “Un vun asperio aurum enchantus.” A slew of traps lit up, the remainder that hadn’t been set off yet—and most were crimson, indicating explosives. “Thirty more feet of traps remain. It’ll take time to—” But an idea occurred to him. “I’ll run a wall across it, which should trigger multiple at once.”

  “Brilliant,” Brandon said from beside Bridget, sweat on his brow. “Everyone move back and raise your shields!”

  Augum efficiently went through the spell’s complex motions—palm up, palm down, palm flat,
a fist culminating with slicing his right hand into his other palm, effectively drawing an arcane line down the tunnel—all while thinking of the appropriate corresponding visuals and incanting, “Summano valla minimus girata barricada.” A lightning wall flared up along that drawn line, concluding at a point thirty-five feet away, causing a cascade of explosions along its length. He summoned his shield and hunkered down while elemental offensives walloped into it.

  “Now kill it,” Maxine said when the chaos passed.

  Augum swiped with a hand. “Summano null,” and the wall disappeared with a whoosh.

  “We didn’t train for this,” Cry grumbled. “Having zero arcanists, that is. We should abort.”

  “There’s no going back,” Augum countered. “We continue.”

  “Fine, but then who’s in charge?”

  “I am,” Maxine snapped, striding to the front. “I’m oldest, so I’m taking command.” She stepped up to the traps and splayed her hand. “Un vun asperio aurum enchantus.” She nodded. “It’s clear down the middle. Single file, mind your toes,” and she jogged down the tunnel before stepping aside and waving them to hurry past her. “Move it, people! Move it, move it, move it!”

  The Arcaners and their protectors carefully but hurriedly walked in single file along the invisible path of safety carved by Augum’s wall, joining Maxine on the other side.

  She quickly pointed at each of them as her lips silently moved, doing a headcount. “Six Arcaners, seven protectors. It’s probably for the best. I argued from the beginning that the group was too large.”

  They glanced back at the barrier and saw Laudine and Alyssa each place a hand against the membrane, mouthing, “Good luck.” Behind them, Jez was rubbing her forehead, eyes glassy with concern.

  Augum raised a hand in return, heart constricting. He really wished they had made it across. Laudine and Alyssa deserved to be on this quest and they deserved to try for dragon rank. And Jez—how they would miss her guidance!

  “Move it, Stone,” Maxine snapped. “They can’t help us now.”

  Daemos

  “We must have triggered fifty alarms,” Leera muttered as they hurried along the dark tunnel, hands dimly lit and in attack position. Maxine was in the lead, her wide, flat face serious, eyes alert. Augum walked close behind, followed by everyone else, who looked confused, as if trying to find their bearings.

  “We need to reach the surface to successfully cast a Group Teleport scroll,” Maxine said. Then she abruptly stopped, raised a fist, and dropped to a crouch, snuffing her palm light. The group followed her lead, getting down on one knee. Augum listened to the darkness and heard the echo of stomping boots.

  “Chameleon, now,” Maxine hissed. “Flat against the wall.”

  Everyone pressed themselves up against the wall as flat as they could, a tricky proposition with their bulging rucksacks.

  “Shouldn’t I cast my simuls?” Jengo whispered, voice trembling. He’d rarely been in real combat but was trained to cast his two support simuls prior to an expected engagement.

  “Quiet!” Maxine snapped. “There’s no time.”

  After readying his mind, Augum passed a hand over his body, feeling a cold pull on his arcanery as he incanted, “Armari obscura chameleano.” He had chosen to cast the non-movable version of the spell to conserve arcane stamina. The others did the same. He worried about 6th degree Haylee, Olaf and Jengo, who had needed special training to learn the 8th degree spell. Luckily, nobody uttered a curse in the darkness or was forced to repeat the spell, indicating success on all counts.

  A light appeared ahead from around a curve in the tunnel, throwing long shadows against the walls of heads and swords and shields. The thump of heavy boots grew louder until the jogging procession appeared in two side-by-side columns. At the head of the group was a long-haired warlock in a violet robe, indicating anywhere from 13th to 16th degree. Her palm was lit with ice, illuminating the corridor with a bright, cool-blue light that swayed with each stride.

  Augum held his breath. The corridor was approximately fifteen feet wide, enough room for the Canterrans to jog by without brushing against any Solians.

  When the procession reached them, Augum spotted an embroidered Canterran crest over the woman’s heart. She had a stern face and looked to be in her late forties, whereas the soldiers were all young men, faces tense with fear, eyes wide. Amazingly, they jogged by without raising the alarm, and Augum counted the soldiers as they passed.

  Ten … twenty … thirty … forty … fifty! But that wasn’t all. At the back of the columns was a Path Disciple, as evidenced by the white robe and shaved pate. Interestingly, he had an unfamiliar shield crest over his heart, divided into four, with the two opposing sections filled in with crimson threading. The man had a round chin and a middle-aged face creased with frown lines. But it was his eyes that caught Augum’s attention, for they seemed to be sweeping over the group. Could he somehow see them?

  Just as Augum was going to breathe a sigh of relief, The Path Disciple skidded to a halt, flexed, and incanted, “Sancto sacro daemos marjorus,” morphing into a massive demon with tattered wings. The body was ripped with bulky muscles, the hands black-clawed, the face scaly, jaws full of toothy malice.

  But Augum noticed something else—fifteen black rings had exploded around the demon’s arm, which usually meant necromancy. But how in Sithesia could a Path Disciple become a necromancer—or a demon, for that matter?

  The group, now visible from various reactions ranging from summoning shields to elemental armors, gaped, stunned by what stood before them.

  The demonic Path Disciple used their hesitation to charge, as did the soldiers, who threw up a hawkish Canterran war cry. The violet-robed warlock woman now brought up the rear.

  The companions each reacted differently—some cast mind spells, some summoned elementals, others blasted the demon, incanting, “Annihilo bato!” As their rings exploded to life around their arms, a simultaneous wallop of no less than three Second Offensives smashed into the demon’s torso, tearing chunks of black flesh and splattering black blood but barely hindering its charge. Three summoned dragon elementals appeared behind the thing and snapped at its heels.

  “Heathens,” the demon gurgled, slamming its scaly wrists together as it lumbered forth, hissing, “Annihilo ito.” Three crimson rays of fiery light emanated from the ground as if summoned from the depths of Hell. The light entered the demon’s body and expelled through its open palms—straight at Leera’s hulking protector, Ulfric. Perhaps had the young man been an Arcaner trained in combat reflex, he would have been fast enough to block the strike, but as it was, he just missed summoning his shield in time and the crimson rays plowed through his chest, instantly searing three distinct holes. Ulfric gasped—and then the massive demon smashed into him with a muscled shoulder, crushing him between its bulk and the wall. As the demon turned its attention to the others, Ulfric slid to the ground in a bloody heap.

  While the companions scrambled to evade the demon, who flailed at them with clawed hands, the summoned dragon elementals finally caught up to it, rabidly clawing, biting and tail-smacking its bulk. But they were like lizards attacking a lion—simply too small and susceptible to getting thrown off. Nonetheless, they kept it occupied for a precious moment as Augum made a battlefield calculation and performed another wall casting.

  “Summano valla minimus girata barricada.” He had executed the gestures precisely to fit across the breadth of the tunnel just beyond the demon, and a thick lightning wall exploded into being in time to block off the soldiers.

  “Blast it!” Maxine shouted, and twelve pairs of wrists slammed together, shooting the First and Second Offensives in a collage of light and fury that obliterated the demon. Jengo was the only one to have abstained, for even though he had learned the First Offensive, as a healer he was forbidden to cast it—except for during an exam.

  The demon gurgled a death rattle, turned back into a man and crumbled to the ground in a pile of smoking
flesh and bones. For a time, they heard only the muted thumping of soldiers slashing the lightning wall to little effect—and no doubt suffering minor shocks from the effort.

  Yet it was Ulfric whom the group stared at. The young man lay still where he had fallen. They hadn’t even had a chance to get to know him properly. He was simply … gone. Leera stared at the body, hands covering her mouth, breath coming in short gasps. She was pale, her spectacles slightly askew.

  Maxine whirled on her heel and began drawing with her palm as she cast the same spell as Augum. A thick bramble of thorny vines and wood and earth burst into existence before them. The tunnel walls crumbled and the ceiling flexed, raining dust and debris onto them. But all sound instantly died, for nothing penetrated the combined thickness of both walls.

  “That’ll keep them for a little bit.” Maxine turned back to Ulfric’s body, which was being attended to by Jengo. “Get off him,” she ordered.

  “But he might still be—”

  “He’s dead, healer. Dead. Toughen up and accept it, soldier.”

  Jengo shakily got to his feet.

  “He knew what he signed up for,” Maxine went on, eyeing them all. “We all did. We leave him where he lies. I would expect you to do the same for me.”

  After a protracted pause, Augum lowered his head and closed his eyes, whispering, “Thank you for your sacrifice, Ulfric Magnuson.” The others did the same, except for Maxine, who snapped her fingers in impatience, muttering that they didn’t have time for this, and Leera, who stood in place, still gulping shallow breaths.

  Augum squeezed her hand. “You all right?”

  “He died defending me.”

  “I know.”

  “He died defending me.”

  Augum drew her in and squeezed lovingly. “I know …”

  Arthur still stared at Ulfric’s body, mouth hanging open, his own breathing hastened. He looked to Leera, back at the body, and swallowed. Then he withdrew a pinch of salt from his pouch and, with trembling fingers, sprinkled it at Ulfric’s feet, mumbling something about having luck in his journey to the Great Beyond.