Path of the Traitors

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “You were right about this woman. Everything failed,” Trinity admits while taking a seat on a slumping couch. With a yawn, she stretches out and stares at the water-damaged ceiling that drops dust whenever the animal living upstairs moves. “Our only options are playing nice or letting the Lich do his worst. None of us want to see that, but Valda here has no fear. Either of you want to give it a try?”

  “All of you will be boiled and stripped of your innards when Baron Arthuru Kernaghan returns!” the woman shouts, her nose bleeding into her mouth. Rolling onto her knees, she manages to jump the chair back into a standing position. “Only one of you may be spared if she is willing to give herself to our side. Such a beautiful elf that reeks of fear and weakness. People like you should be thankful that they are allowed to live among the strong. The true Destiny God will have a place for you in his castle. Let me go and I will allow you to claim the halfling’s head and give it to our ruler. That can buy you a seat in his court or, if you’re lucky, a night in the Baron’s bed.”

  “Ashkeep was created when he was a god and hidden before he was stripped of all his power,” Nimby explains while he gets a cup of water. Not wanting to get too close, he throws the drink on the prisoner’s face and moves out of spitting range. “Our best guess is that this was going to be the Baron’s new holy city. He had all of the other gods in stasis, so the Law of Influence wouldn’t have stopped him either. We can’t get a straight answer on if most of the lineages here were with him prior to his ascension or joined him afterwards. This is the best we can do since she’s more interested in sharing threats and rants. Nothing about the portrait other than what the map tells us. That Founder Complex is where we have to go.”

  “You can’t even get through the front door,” Valda growls, her sapphire eyes locked on the calm halfling. A creature of molten rock drops from the ceiling and howls in her face before bursting into powder. “Tricks won’t help you either. Our master put some of the strongest wards in history over the Founder Complex. No living thing can get inside without permission or it will be torn to shreds. Even the infamous Chaos Elf Queen will die if she attempts to force her way through the front door.”

  Vile chuckles as he tries to clean the tools that are bigger than his body. “You underestimate her and that will get you killed. Channelers are a breed that cannot be stopped when there is something they truly want. Those wards would have already been torn down if she wanted to do so. The only reason it hasn’t happened is because we agreed to do this quietly. Now, are you going to tell us what we need to know or do we have to capture someone else? I saw the ring on your finger, so perhaps your husband or, if you have any, a beloved child can take your place in this room.”

  “We aren’t hurting innocent people, General Vile,” Trinity says from across the room. The blood from the torture instruments floats into the air and gathers over her to create a crimson mirror. “That isn’t how we do things any more. Bad enough that we went to these extremes, so I want to draw a line here. Besides, you can tell by her face that even the suffering or death of her child wouldn’t make her talk. The people of Ashkeep are dedicated to the cause, which means nothing will work. Does anybody have a way to get the information out of her? She has to know about this portrait or at least where it could be inside that building.”

  “I can do it, but it will be painful,” the Lich states after nobody else speaks. The arm glows a putrid green with veins of red before rising with no resistance from Nimby. “She will fight back and that may force me to harm her. I don’t care, but those with weaker stomachs or magical sensitivities may want to brace themselves. Ripping information from a strong spirit is usually messy.”

  Before the Lich can cast his spell, Altia swings her whip and strikes Valda across the armored chest. The smug smile on the orc’s face fades away when another blow causes the weapon to stick to her platemail. Twisting her wrist in tight circles, the elf burrows the end into her targets body without damaging the flesh. When she feels the whip touch something soft and slightly spongy, Altia jerks her arm back and swings it over her head. The black lash turns white as it passes through Valda and wraps around her spirit, which is yanked to the floor. Drips of smoke fall from the body’s mouth as all color fades from its skin and its eyes turn a dull green that reminds everyone of cooked egg yolks. Standing over the gasping spirit, Altia hoists her up by pulling on the whip and slams the weightless figure against the wall. She does it again, the impact bringing Valda one inch closer to the cracked window.

  “Know that you will die if you go too far away from your body,” the elf says, refusing to look directly at the woman. Her hands shaking, she takes several gulping breaths that cause the spirit to laugh. “I don’t like doing this, but we need to move forward. With me, you have a chance of being returned to your body and surviving. The Lich wouldn’t be so kind. Do not think this is not a gift because I could have left the room and let you die. Now, tell us where we can find the Baron’s portrait?”

  “Do you think a simple threat will make me talk?” Valda asks, her spectral muscles straining against the whip. A shock of euphoria runs through her body, bringing the orc to her knees until it stops. “What idiocy was that? You think pleasure is a better motivator than pain? I don’t know where they found you, girl, but you are worthless to their cause. Kind people with limits will always die at the hands of monsters.”

  “Only a fool thinks pleasure is harmless,” Altia says, putting the ghost against the fragile panes of glass. She sends two more pulses of intoxicating joy into her prisoner and finally makes eye contact. “Part of this spell is that I can make you feel agony or bliss. I should have been more specific before, but your body will die while your spirit wanders. Nobody will come to bring you to the other side. The emotion I put on you before the separation is what you will feel for eternity. Imagine spending the rest of your life roaming in endless pleasure, but knowing that all other emotions are denied to you.”

  “I can see the touch of Ambrosine on you now.”

  “She is my master.”

  “That changes nothing.”

  “Well, out the window you go.”

  Valda screams when she hears some of the glass break and a sense of forced bliss begins to overtake her. “Wait! I’ll tell you what you want. The portrait you seek is probably the one in the council room that the city leaders gather in to plan attacks on our enemies. I don’t know this for a fact, but my superiors talk about our master watching over the meetings. If not there then a storage chamber or the treasury, but that’s the best answer I can give you.”

  “Thank you and I apologize,” Altia whispers while whipping the spirit into the air. With a loud crack, she drives Valda back into her body and quickly heads out the door. “I’m going to get some rest before we go. After two or three hours, I should be better. Do what you want with her.”

  “Hold on a second,” Trinity says, catching the red-haired elf by the arm. Waving Quail to join them, she eases her grip and looks into the woman’s eyes. “I thought you could only use spells that touched your body. At least that’s how I understood your explanation. Did somebody actually cast that nightmare on you?”

  “I lied about nobody finding the victims,” the elf answers, freeing her arm and backing away. She watches her whip return to its normal form and tosses it onto the couch as if it will try to bite her. “There is a chance that a deity will arrive if they hear you scream. Sometimes, they will mean you harm like they did with my . . . Other times, they will return you to your body like Ambrosine did to me. Guess this is another secret that you uncovered. I always knew that spell was in me, but didn’t think of using it until now. To be clear, I only did it because I didn’t want someone to make this interrogation more about fun than information.”

  “Some of us enjoy our work,” the Lich retorts, his arm still glowing. Bending down, he taps Valda on the head and melts her into a pool of muck. “There we go. Now, you can sleep soundly for as long as you want.”

&nb
sp; A look of horror on her face, Altia storms off with Quail a few steps behind. The slam of a door can be heard, followed by muffled shouting as the disgusted elf rants. The Lich forces Nimby to smile until the halfling grabs a rasp and angrily runs it across his exposed radius for a few minutes. Not wanting to watch the ugly scene, Trinity walks away and sits in front of a window that is masked by a camouflage spell. She traces her finger along the glass, the symbols those she vaguely remembers from the banners that hung in the throne room that she hopes to one day claim as her own. The sounds of her companions still echo down the hallway, which makes her strongly consider finishing her journey alone.

  12

  Framed by the sapphire moon, the Founder Complex resembles a flat-topped tombstone due its shape and lack of windows. A series of turrets can be seen on the roof and they jut out far enough to create a home for a bat colony. No bigger than a halfling, the animals circle the building in search of birds and plump dragonflies. Two guards stand on the roof where they can watch the entire city and send their pets to wherever they need to go. The front door is the only visible entrance with edging shaped like rearing horses that hold torches in their mouths. All other ways in have been made to blend into the dark brown stone, their faint seams seen only when hit by light from the correct angle. The Founder Complex is surrounded by a moat that is home to spiny alligators that spend the daylight hours hiding under the drawbridge. At night, the predators walk along the muddy bottom and rise up every ten minutes to breathe. Due to their weekly shedding, the top of the filthy water is covered in thick quills that have retained their toxicity.

  Disguised as a group of Ashkeep’s homeless, Trinity and her friends make their way to the darkest corner of the moat. The patrolling bats pick up the scent of decay and keep their distance, the animals unaware that the smell is from Valda’s remains having been smeared on the travelers’ clothes. Waiting for the guards and their pets to forget about them, the small group patiently waits for the perfect moment to make their move. A narrow bridge of shadows appears over the water, which they carefully cross to avoid falling off the edge. The grunting and hissing of hungry alligators follows them to the other shore even after the intruders slip into the thick, red-hued grass. The wards create an uncomfortable pressure on their bodies, which prevents them from getting too close to the building. A light shines off Trinity’s hand and runs along the wall until it hits a spot that is divided by a thin, black line.

  “I found one of the side doors,” she hastily whispers, waving for the others to gather around her. Reaching out for the wall, she stops her arm a hair away from the first ward. “The protection layers are only on the outside, so we’re fine once we get through these doors. I have an idea of how we can do it. Would you be able to pick the lock in two minutes, Nimby?”

  “A normal lock yes, but I can’t even see this one,” the halfling replies, his eyes aching from squinting at the camouflaged door. He thinks he can see a tiny hole in the stone, but he is too far away to be sure. “I’d say five minutes to find the lock and two minutes to get it open. That’s if there aren’t any magical defenses in there too. Chances of that are slim since this is a hidden door. Trap spells can react to the wards and then neither of them will work. What are you thinking?”

  “I’ll be able to help with the lock and I have a way to get through the wards,” the chaos elf says while pressing her fingers against her eyes. She takes a step back to clear her head and focuses on her companions’ auras. “First, I’ll be putting Vile in my enchanted pocket and Tyler needs to go into dormancy. Both of you will weaken my connection spells, which I can enhance for two minutes. The basic idea is that I cover your energies with a thin layer of my own and synch myself with the wards. They won’t notice that any of us are there until the spell wears off, but that it’s a problem if we’re already inside. I might be able to push for three minutes, but there is a risk that either I’ll consume your auras or you’ll end up draining me. Not really sure which one will happen because I’m making this up as I go along. What does everyone think?”

  “Make sure to wake me once we get inside,” the Lich whispers as he fades into the ring.

  Not letting the toy complain, Trinity stuffs Vile into her pocket and takes a deep breath that she gradually releases. “Thanks for your trust. I promise to get you out of the wards and back over the moat if it feels like the spell is about to collapse. Let me take the first step and then Nimby will head for the door. If I add an enhanced sight enchantment to the mix then it should help you. Here we go.”

  Gently taking Altia and Nimby by the hand, Trinity nods for Quail to hold onto both of her bare elbows. Sweat drips down her face as she juggles all of the energies and mixes her own into each of them. Focusing on the wards, she weaves it through all of the intricate layers to create a minor infection. When the shields react to the intrusion, she yanks her aura back and starts to put herself on the same wavelength as the awakening wards. Her fingers resemble crystals that start to run up her arms until the aggressive attack is pushed down to the tip of her nails. At the last moment, Trinity recognizes the energy as that of the Baron, but it is too late to stop and she swallows her fear to complete the connection. She watches as all of wards physically appear around the Founder Complex, giving the building a rainbow sheen that quivers whenever one of the bats comes too close.

  Working quickly, Trinity sends her aura into her companions and takes a second to make sure they are fully protected. A faint glow runs along their bodies even after they let go of each other, their disguises shielding the sight from any watchful eyes. Counting down in her head, the chaos elf walks into the wards and grits her teeth at the sense of something roughly probing her internal organs. The jabs become softer, except around her liver, which she can feel twitching and throbbing from a blossoming pressure. She waves for Nimby to hurry ahead and notices that he is handling the strange sensations better than everyone else. His eyes wide and focused enough to locate the lock immediately, the halfling pulls out his picks and works on getting the door open. To Trinity’s horror, the thief stops once, but it is only to sneeze, which she mutes by putting a brief bubble around his nose. As soon as she hears the click from the building, the chaos elf snaps her fingers at the others and races after Nimby. She waits for everyone to get inside the grain-filled storage room and the door to close before freeing her aura from all of the connections. Exhausted and dizzy, the channeler falls to her knees where she takes Vile out and shakily places him on the floor.

  “Wake up, Tyler,” Nimby says into the ring. Peeking into a carpeted hallway, the thief watches and listens for the guards. “Got it done in one minute, which worries me because the lock was too simple. I know this city is ancient and I’m used to more modern devices, but this was pathetic. We should stay in here for a minute or two in case coming through the side doors sets off an alarm. Looks like you need some rest too.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Trinity replies while shedding her disguise. Seeing a basket of cherries, she grabs a handful and stuffs them into her mouth, her voice now coming from the air. “Just needed a snack to replenish my strength. I’ve got an idea for the pits too. Do we happen to know where this council room is located?”

  Tenderly thumbing through the layered map, Quail holds up his hand for silence as he explains, “There is a stairwell around the corner on our left and another on our right. Seems there are four that run the entire height of the building and a central portal, which is behind a lot of doors. That’s probably for the rulers of Ashkeep, so we shouldn’t go near it. I also see a basement with no method of entry, but that isn’t our concern. The council room takes up the entire fifteenth floor, which means whoever is leading us can choose either stairwell.”

  “Wait for another minute,” Altia interrupts as she looks at the map. Her finger traces a faint line that runs around the entire building, but is located within the walls. “These look like tunnels or shafts within the solid stone. I didn’t see anything like that when we came
in. In fact, I’d say the entrance we took was no thicker than half a foot. This map makes it look like the walls are at least two feet.”

  “I saw that, but the wards are causing interference with my magic,” the mapper insists before tapping at the middle of the page. Everything shifts and smears until he shakes the document hard enough to jog his spell back to normalcy. “There are any number of reasons things look like this, but our concern is the interior. Whenever we get a moment, I will look more into the outer walls and see if there will be a problem escaping. For now, it appears we can go out the way we came. By the way, I’m very happy that you’ve been listening to me explain my work.”

  “You two are being cut off right now,” the Lich hisses like an irritated serpent. Sparks fall off the ring and the necrocaster groans in pain from being so close to the wards. “I’m still having trouble functioning in here. Things should improve for myself and Vile once we get into the hallway. Who should go first?”

  “Leave the point position to me since I can go unnoticed in this body,” Vile offers, drawing both of his swords. Marching into the open, he turns in both directions and sighs at how he cannot lick his lips. “The hallway is clear. Not only of guards, but furniture and decorations. It’s possible that we walked into an unused wing or they are doing a thorough cleaning. Though, we all know this is more than likely a sign that something else is going on here. I will go alone and signal the rest of you to follow when I am sure there are no threats.”

  Vile darts across the hallway and presses himself against the wall where he waits for the count of ten. In crushing silence, he creeps along and sticks to the shadows that hide all, but his glowing eye. The creak of a door causes him to drop into a crouch and hide his face until he feels it is safe to continue moving. Looking back, Vile curses at the sight of Nimby already sneaking into the hallway. It takes him a moment to realize that the darkness makes it impossible for the others to see him from so far away. Waving them into the open, the figurine chooses a door that has a gap at the bottom. Peering into the gloomy chamber, he can only make out the shape of an unused fireplace and what might be a wooden stool. By the time his companions join him, Vile has given up trying to find the source of his unease and accepts that they will have to move forward even if it is into a trap.