Path of the Traitors

by Charles E Yallowitz

  With a beaming smile, the elated fireskin bangs her staff on the floor until the other councilmembers draw their own weapons. They reach back to gently knock on their goblets, the ensuing echo growing from a delicate ring to a rumbling roar. When the sound abruptly stops, a large trapdoor opens beneath the travelers and they plummet into the shadows. The last thing they see is Yola’s head bobbing on a neck that stretches over the entrance, her green hair waving excitedly.

  *****

  “Believe that I will kill you before Yola eats me,” Trinity says while she shakes Nimby like a doll. The Lich’s laughter is a stark contrast to the halfling’s bewilderment, his eyes wide and dilated. “All this time, you were using us to help the Baron. I’m going to find a way to stop you without putting Quail and Altia in danger. How could I have been stupid enough to trust you for even an instant?”

  “Desperation makes for disturbing bedfellows,” the necrocaster gleefully replies. With a snap of his fingers, four half-eaten corpses rise from one of the surrounding piles of bodies and shuffle toward the travelers. “Be careful, your highness. I might only control an arm, but there are plenty of potential servants down here. The basement seems to be their dumping site, which has given the cavern such a delicious aroma. I know! We should leave a present. Two more bodies would be a welcomed gift.”

  The bronze ring spins at the same time the runes on Quail and Altia glow, both of the confused victims clutching their stomachs. They try to hold each other up as the discomfort turns into a mild pain that weakens their legs. Before Trinity can cast a reverse spell, the four corpses tackle her and melt into a steaming pile of ooze. She frantically struggles to get free of the sticky mess, which makes her want to vomit. Her friends suddenly scream loud enough to scare away the lurking scavengers, the shadowy beasts knocking over bodies as they retreat. At the height of their torture, Quail and Altia violently sneeze out sprays of shimmering lights that spread across the cavern. With a final burp, the pair remain standing and shudder at the foul taste in their mouths.

  “Oh, for the love of Lorvis, the look on your faces was priceless!” the Lich shouts while forcing Nimby to gasp for air. He wiggles his fingers and pretends to cast another spell while dancing around Trinity. “I put those runes on them while everyone was talking because the slumber spells never affected me. Being within Nimby’s body, I simply take over when he is knocked out. It’s impossible for both of us to be asleep at the same time. As for that fool’s truth spell, having two auras in one body destroys such a pathetic incantation because it doesn’t know which one to focus on. I could have told her that I’m Duke Solomon and my daughter is a bullfrog and she would have believed me.”

  “I really don’t want to congratulate him, but I think he earned some respect,” Vile chimes in from Altia’s shoulder. Watching the shifting lights, he tries to see through the shadows with no success. “The portrait must be in one of the alcoves. We should split up and check everything in case they heard our conversation. Not that I’m worried about the useless council, but Yola might show up again. There are only so many times we can trick her or talk ourselves out of trouble before she gets her way. I suggest pairs and I will go with this young lady.”

  “We aren’t moving on just yet,” Quail claims as he grabs Nimby by the head. He lifts the thief high enough to bring his ring to face level. “Never pull a trick on me or Altia like that again or I will make you pay. Laugh if you want, but one of my maps will lead me to a person who will cast you into oblivion. Unlike you, I’m very patient and can spend the rest of my life hunting for help. I’m sorry for abusing you like this, Nimby.”

  “Not a problem. In fact, I’m rather impress-” the halfling starts to say, his words cut off by the ground giving way.

  The two men slide down the hidden incline and disappear beneath the floor, which cracks and crumbles in a circle. Only a narrow ledge remains stable and allows the others to avoid plummeting into the darkness. Hissing and shifting stones can be heard from below, which is soon joined by Quail’s wild screaming. Light orbs fly into the crevices, but they are blocked by a cloud of dust getting kicked up by the action beneath the surface. Trinity and Altia are about to jump into the nearest hole when a squirming creature is thrown at them. The enormous centipede smashes against the wall, its broken body twitching in an attempt to return to its nest. Eggs fall out of its head and hatch, but the women quickly stomp on the rapidly growing insects. A solid impact shakes the cavern and more of the floor falls away, one of the chunks lowering slowly due to the massive pile of centipedes underneath. One of the insects spots the women and leaves the nest, but it is immediately blasted apart by a lightning bolt. Heated by the spell, the eggs burst like bubbles and leave scorch marks on the stone.

  Trinity and Altia dive into the mass of insects, a billowing wave of energy clearing the ground enough for them to land safely. They are nearly overrun as soon as the spell recedes, but they manage to beat the centipedes back. Vile bounds between the two women, the warrior using their height to help him attack anything that goes for their heads. A whistle to their left tells them where Nimby is and Quail’s location is revealed whenever the panicking mapper sends an insect hurtling out of the nest. Feeling woozy from the stench, Trinity restrains her magic to avoid hurting her companions, but the small zaps and close-range acid strikes prevent her from pushing against the swarm. Altia has better luck with her whip, which has become enchanted with a keen edge spell. Swinging the weapon in a tight half-circle, she slices centipedes apart almost as fast as they appear out of the gaping holes in the curved walls.

  “There must be thousands of them!” Nimby shouts as he joins the others. He stabs an insect lunging for Trinity’s leg while his skeletal fingers cast a water draining spell to turn five more into crumbling husks. “Quail is freaking out and running all over the place. I don’t know how he’s staying alive, but I doubt his luck will hold out. Anyone have a plan that’s better than my idea to run?”

  “Run to where?” Altia asks while struggling with a centipede that is gnawing on her chainmail. She trips over a curved stone and waves her whip to clear space for her awkward landing on a strange, but familiar, surface. “You have got to be kidding me. I think I’m sitting on the portrait. Not sure if it was put in the floor before or after the centipedes came in, but this is our way out. It has to be a portal since they put it into the floor. Just need to find a way to open the door.”

  “Let me clear some space for you,” Trinity says as she claps her hands. The insects are shoved against the walls by gusts of wind, but several of them find gaps that are made by the front line. “These things are pretty smart. I doubt a physical trigger would work without them setting it off first. Must be an incantation or a magical word that we can figure out by looking at the portrait.”

  “Hard to get a clear idea since we’re standing on it,” Vile points out, his swords dripping with centipede blood. Rushing over to Quail, he rapidly climbs the chaos elf and slaps him across the face. “Snap out of whatever suicidal nonsense this is. Get yourself killed when it won’t put the rest of us in danger. Now, help with getting us out of here. Trinity cannot hold them back for much longer.”

  “Just keep the ones that get through off me and I’ll figure it out,” Altia swears, her hands exploring the ancient painting. Crawling to the frame, she runs a finger along a groove that leaves her with two splinters. “The Baron is sitting on a wooden throne with a heart-shaped sun and four tightly-packed clouds in the sky. There are seven skulls at his feet, but the rest of the scenery is of a forest. The trees and flowers aren’t very detailed, so they probably aren’t much help. Maybe it has to do with his rapier, which looks to have received more attention from the artist than anything. For all I know it could also be his clothing, so I would like somebody to help out and see if I’m missing something.”

  “There is an extra skull,” the Lich hurriedly answers. Unable to draw Nimby away from two aggressive centipedes, he flails wildly at the lower part o
f the portrait. “They must be the remains of the champions. He wanted to depict his victory as a way to inspire the people of Ashkeep. The extra one must be the key or you touch them in a certain order. If this is a smart spell then the centipedes would never be able to open it even if they got it right. The enchantment reads intent, which they wouldn’t have.”

  Trinity gives up on her wind barrier and yanks the others onto the portrait, which she covers in a protective dome. “Sorry that I can’t maintain my spells. I think I’ve gone too long without decent rest. That or I’ve gone soft hiding in the mountains. Are you sure that the skulls are the keys? I hate to think of what happens if we’re wrong.”

  “It is the only thing that doesn’t make sense.”

  “They look identical.”

  “I’m sure there are subtle differences.”

  “There has to be another clue.”

  “We don’t have time for this.”

  Fighting against Nimby’s resistance, the Lich stretches for the skull that he believes is a slightly different shade of white. He is about to touch the slightly indented eye sockets when his knuckles are smacked by Altia’s whip. Growling in pain and frustration, he whirls around to glare at the elf, but she is already looking at another part of the portrait. She shakes her weapon when he makes a move toward the skulls, the thick cords turning a threatening red. Curiosity gets the better of the Lich, who hurries over to see what the young woman has found.

  “The skull is too obvious or might be symbolic of an enemy who is not a champion. It could be for Gabriel’s servant or the god himself,” Altia explains, her finger running along the heart-shaped sun. Licking her lips, she turns her attention to the four clouds and wracks her brain to remember one of the stories she heard from Ambrosine. “For all of his evil deeds, the Baron loved his children. At the time this portrait was made, he only had four. The older son was a trusted general, who he was forced to execute for treason. Information on him is very vague since the Baron destroyed the scrolls on him out of grief. Ambrosine was the only daughter born from a chaos elf assassin and Stephen was the middle son. There was also a third son, but even less is known about him. The four clouds symbolize them, but I can’t figure out the color association. Ambrosine must be the blue one and I’d say Stephen is red, but I can’t be certain since that leaves green and yellow.”

  “Red is for Cameron Kernaghan because his mother was a calico with a red tail,” Vile says, his awkward hands trying to spin his weapons. Backing up to the elf, he emphatically nods his head and points at the portrait with his swords. “You are correct that Ambrosine is blue, but Stephen would be green since his mother was an emerald-eyed demon. Elk, the youngest, was a half-orc, so his cloud is yellow like his mother’s hair. The Baron has always loved Zaria, but he had a respectful fondness for the other women who blessed him with a child. He included them in this portrait key because only a person who investigated his full history would know this. Nyder Fortune memorized the archives and shared his knowledge with me. I always called it pointless gossip, so I owe him an apology. All of that aside, you have to trust me. The order should be red, blue, black, and yellow.”

  Not having any other ideas, Altia touches the clouds in the recommended order and waits for something to happen. A minute passes in awkward silence, so she tries to push harder on the portrait. Tugging her pointy ear in frustration, the elf tries running her finger from the sun to each one with no success. Sweat dripping from her brow, she tries various combinations and does her best to ignore the sound of the swarming centipedes. It is only when she turns her head to the side that she notices odd smears in the sky. Placing one hand on the sun, Altia presses her fingers against the clouds using Vile’s instructions and holds them there. Grunting and straining her hand muscles, she forces the enchanted parts of the painting closer to each other until they merge to become a marble door knocker that rapidly changes color. The elf shrugs before lifting and dropping the heavy pendulum, the loud bang startling her companions. With a soothing hum, the portrait swings open and paint-covered vines rise up to carry the travelers into a swirling vortex.

  13

  With a door-shaped cloud above their heads, the tense group finds themselves at the beginning of a bizarre labyrinth. The dark green hedges are covered in copies of the Baron’s portrait, which have been fused to the plants. Due to the disorienting repetition, it is impossible to judge distances or see turns in the path. All attempts to focus through the effect create a mild headache and forces the victim to stare at the ground until the vertigo passes. Looking into the sky makes the sensation worse thanks to a swirling sun that is always above those trapped within the ancient maze. Shielding their eyes, they can barely see hooked vines rising from the top of the hedges. The swaying plants appear harmless until one of the many darting sparrows comes too close and is snared. Leaves shift as the animal is yanked into the bushes and devoured, which causes a faint dribble of blood to seep from the nearest portrait’s mouth.

  “I already feel like I’m going to throw up,” Trinity mutters, her stomach twisting from staring ahead for too long. She wonders if there is a spell at work, but she holds back her own magic to avoid setting off any traps. “Try not to focus on a single spot for too long. Depend more on your ears to sense danger than your eyes. With any luck, this is really a straight path and we don’t have to worry about turns.”

  “There are at least five openings ahead of us,” the Lich announces while he taps at the nearest portrait. A hum of energy runs along his bones, which quiver at the same time a ripple passes over the picture. “I am using Nimby’s senses with my magic to avoid the disorientation, but I can’t be exact. He is the better one to ask about traps.”

  “This is so strange,” the halfling admits, his eyes an abyssal black. Seeing everything in muted colors, he tries to decipher the patches of brightness that appear along the path. “If I had to guess, I would say there are pits and maybe some kind of arrow trap. Whatever Tyler is doing to me is helping me see danger spots, but they aren’t detailed. None of this helps us find our way around the maze.”

  Sitting on the ground, Quail holds up the crest map and watches it change into the form of the maze. “Give me a few minutes to figure out the route and memorize it. Looks like this place is in the shape of a real heart, so it has four sections with various exits. Doesn’t look like there’s anything outside of this place, which means these tunnels could be traps. There’s a central courtyard, which I suggest we check out first. This seems very easy, but I have a feeling that the map was made to get us through the maze without a problem. Do you want me to take the lead alongside Nimby, your highness?”

  “Just be careful,” Trinity replies before reaching out to grab Altia’s necklace. With a slow exhale, she reads the magic within the enhancer gems and tries to discern what kinds of spells are within. “Sorry for the intrusion, but I was curious. In case I get taken down here or upon our return to Ashkeep, I need you to get everyone out alive and bring the crests to Gaia. As I suspected, you have a gateway spell in there, so use it to escape. Use it because I have a feeling there will be a fight waiting for us once we get out of here. Not sure if it’ll be a small army of Baron worshippers or a very impatient Yola, but either one may force me to stay behind while you guys run.”

  “I won’t let you down,” the elf declares, drawing her whip. Wrapping the weapon around her body, she clutches the handle and rolls her shoulders. “Still, I have a job to keep you alive as well. Ambrosine doesn’t want you to die here or in Ashkeep. So, I refuse to leave you behind unless I don’t have a choice. You ordering me around doesn’t count because I follow someone more powerful than you. No offense intended, your majesty.”

  “Nauseating waste of time,” Vile grumbles from Quail’s shoulder. The figurine watches another bird get eaten, the dying chirp making him smile. “I suggest we move. There are more vines than before, which has me worried. They might assume we are dead since we are standing still for too long. The cleanlin
ess of the maze is unnerving and they are the only things here that can remove bodies. Get moving, Quail, because my life depends on your skills.”

  The mapper refuses to move until Trinity takes Vile away and drops him on the ground, the figurine glowing with a speed spell. Even though the path is wide, they walk in a straight line with a five-foot space between those leading the way and the ones cautiously following. While Nimby is used to being alone and exposed, Quail repeatedly glances over his shoulder to see what the others are doing. His distraction nearly gets him killed when the halfling puts out an arm to stop the group at the edge of a pit that blends into the grass. Due to the height difference, the chaos elf trips over his companion’s warning and starts to topple into the hole. With a loud crack, Altia’s whip catches Quail by his arm and yanks him to safety. No sooner does he fall on his rear than a large mouth bursts from the hole and slams shut. The blind creature snorts and sinks back into its lair, the illusionary earth hiding it from view again.

  Before anyone can make a suggestion, Trinity approaches the hole and turns a cherry pit into a green gem that she casually slips beneath the illusion. Taking Nimby by the arm, she backs away and counts to five on her fingers. As soon as her pinky curls against her palm, a blast of acid explodes from the trap and dissolves the creature. With a loud crackling, the deadly pool hardens to fill in the path and allow the travelers to get across without trouble. Satisfied with her new spell, Trinity creates more of the gems and holds them in her hand. Following Nimby to the next pit, she drops the emerald through the illusion and waits for the explosion. Instead, the spell is ejected and explodes across the sky where it becomes a cloud that rains acid on the entire maze. Huddling together under a barrier, the travelers watch the vines happily sway in the deadly drizzle that lasts several minutes.