“Is that one of those sacks that’s bigger on the inside than the outside?” Vicky asked excitedly. “They’re supposed to be very difficult to acquire.”
“They are,” Timmy replied. “Unless you happen to be on good terms with a corpse dealer.” And Timmy made a point of being on good terms with a number of corpse dealers. “I’ll put everything in here for now, and we can split it up later. Right now, we need to find the entrance to the lower levels of the tomb.”
Vicky pointed to an immense statue at the far end of the hall. From the sheer gaudiness of the statue and the crown it wore, it was probably safe to assume that it was a statue of the king. “How about over there?”
“We’ll have to take a look, but you’re probably right. Narcissism was almost a prerequisite for being a king back in the ancient days.” Timmy put the general’s equipment into the sack. “Time for us to do some tinkering.”
Out of the three of them, Timmy was the one who knew the most about traps and things of a generally hazardous or fatal nature. Unlike some people – namely, Vicky – he couldn’t waltz blithely through deadly traps and powerful enchantments. That would get him killed, which was why his master had placed such a strong emphasis on those during his training. He claimed it was for Timmy’s own good, but Timmy doubted it. It was more likely that his master simply enjoyed watching him squirm and struggle to survive. Without the natural advantage of incredibly powerful magic, Timmy had been forced to rely on his cunning and his ability to learn quickly about a diverse range of topics. Getting to the lower levels of the tomb would allow him to put some of those hard-won skills to work.
“There is definitely a door concealed inside the base of this statue,” Timmy said. “And, no, we can’t just break it open.”
James sighed. “Why am I not surprised? Okay. Fine. Why can’t we break it open?”
Timmy could understand his frustration. James’s magic was stronger if he could get his hands on what he wanted to move. If this had been a normal statue, it wouldn’t have taken James more than a few moments to tear it apart even if it was protected from most forms of magic.
“It’s easier for me to tell now that someone isn’t trying to boil us alive, but this entire place is connected to the currents of ambient magic flowing through this area. I’ll bet it’s why this location was chosen in the first place. There is a lot of magic here, more than enough to power this tomb and the curse on the forest. If I’m reading the runes and seals on this statue correctly, it serves as a hub of sorts. If it gets too badly damaged or broken, its runes and seals will degrade. You do not want that to happen.”
“Oh?” Vicky raised one eyebrow. She was studying the statue intently, no doubt using her excellent memory to compare it to what they’d seen earlier, as well as any books or scrolls she might have read in the past. Perhaps she was memorising its appearance since they would have to mention it in their report, or she could have been memorising how the crown looked, so they could take it if they saw it later. “What happens then?”
“The currents of magic flowing through the land get blocked up, and this whole place probably explodes. I’m talking about an explosion big enough to be seen for miles. James and I are definitely dead, and even you might not survive, Vicky.”
“But we can get to the lower levels, right?” Vicky asked. “You haven’t said it was impossible.”
Trust Vicky to notice that particular detail. “Yes. We should be able to open the door mechanically. Basically, I’m going to pick the lock.” Timmy chuckled. “You’d be amazed by how often picking locks works. The vast majority of incredibly powerful mages tend to be extremely arrogant – arrogant enough to not seek out a quality locksmith because they believe their magic can do a better job. Needless to say, most mages couldn’t design a good, tamper-resistant lock if their lives depended on it.” Timmy reached into his pocket for the lock-picking kit he brought whenever they had a field exercise or assessment.
“Do you carry those with you everywhere?” James drawled. “How suspicious of you.”
“If you’re worried about people stealing things, you should look in the mirror. You can move things with your magic. You shoot coins at your enemies. I’m sure you could rob dozens of people without them noticing a thing if you wanted to.” Timmy ignored James’s squawk of outrage and walked around the base of the statue slowly. The locking mechanism was most likely concealed somewhere within easy reach of the ground. He found it after tapping part of the base, which swung open. “And there we go.”
Timmy did his best to avoid being distracted by the curious gazes of his companions. Vicky would definitely ask him for lessons later, and she’d likely master how to pick a lock in about a week. It was how she was. James, of course, was no doubt using Timmy’s expertise as proof that Timmy was a moral degenerate who deserved to be in prison.
A faint frown crossed Timmy’s lips as he worked. Older locks could be difficult since they often used old principles. It also wasn’t unusual for an old lock to be badly worn or even damaged. After ten minutes of poking and prodding, he felt the lock’s tumblers shift into place. A door opened up beside the lock. Its outline had been concealed by the lines of the statue’s base. Timmy put his lock-picking kit back into his pocket and peered through the open doorway. It was dark, and it led down into the depths of the tomb.
“If that doesn’t look suspicious,” Timmy murmured. “I don’t know what does.”
“Yes, it doesn’t exactly scream safety.” James levitated several crystals into the air. It wouldn’t do for them to be left without light if Vicky had to devote all of her attention to defending them from some obnoxious trap or ambush. “But we’ve come this far. We might as well see it through.”
Vicky slapped James over the back, prompting another scowl from the dark-haired boy. “That’s the spirit. Let’s get a move on!”
“Let me just say this: if I die here, I am totally haunting both of you forever.” Timmy paused. “Especially you, James, since you’re a jerk, and I know you’d haunt me if you got the chance.”
James scoffed. “You might perish here, but I am most definitely surviving.”
They made their way through the door and down a long staircase bathed in the pale, white light of the crystals and Vicky’s magic. The staircase was lined with decorations illustrating the peak of the kingdom that had built the tomb. As usual, there was probably some embellishment. For example, Timmy was fairly confident that the king who had built this tomb had not defeated a hundred expert swordsmen simultaneously without using any magic. But some embellishment was normal. Ancient monarchs tended to have egos even bigger than their tombs. The staircase continued downward for what felt like hours before finally levelling off. They walked through another set of doors and found themselves inside another large hall.
“This place is huge,” Timmy murmured. “Just think of what they could have done with all the money they used to build it. Then again, they could also have used slave labour.” He looked around and readied his shovel. “If there isn’t another zombie general waiting for us here, I’ll be pleasantly surprised and extremely suspicious.”
“It does seem a fitting place to have a fight, given how ostentatious it is,” James said. The hall around them was paved with marble, and the pillars were trimmed in silver and bronze. There might even have been a few gemstones set into the ceiling, along with at least two or three intricate frescoes.
Vicky grinned. “The sooner we deal with the guardians of this tomb, the sooner we can get our hands on the treasure, lift the curse on the forest, and return to receive excellent grades.” She lifted one hand, and a sphere of light illuminated the ceiling above them. “Look at this fresco. There has to be something good in here. Nobody would go to all this effort if there wasn’t something in here worth defending.”
Timmy had learned something very important about Vicky not long after meeting her. If there was one thing she had a talent for – other than being awesome at almost everything she tried
– it was finding trouble. She’d barely even finished speaking when a small army of golems began to pour into the hall from doors along the far side. They looked to be made of bronze although it wasn’t possible to be sure until he’d actually bashed a few of them with his shovel.
“Great.” Timmy readied his shovel. He sincerely hoped it was up to the task. Otherwise, he’d have to hide behind Vicky for the rest of the fight, and James would never, ever let him hear the end of that. “At least, we’re going to get plenty of exercise.”
Alongside him, James drew the sword he carried with him on field exercises and assessments. He hadn’t used it against the zombie general since getting too close would have been suicide, but it should do reasonably well against these golems, provided they really were made of bronze. James was a skilled swordsman, and his magic would greatly enhance the damage his sword did. True, the golems were armed, but most golems fought fairly mechanically, relying on their endless stamina and formidable strength instead of skill or technique.
The first golem that reached James took a stab at him with its sword and was promptly cut to ribbons for its trouble after James stepped neatly to one side. There was a brief flare of magic, but whatever magic was being used to enhance the golems, it paled in comparison to the magic that had been used in the general’s shield and armour. If all of the other golems were like this one, they wouldn’t have much trouble dealing with them individually. All they had to be worried about was being overrun.
Timmy was less elegant in his approach. A shovel wasn’t the same as a sword, and he was still working on his technique. Nevertheless, a big, stout piece of metal was generally good for hitting things, and he dodged a golem’s swipe before he caved its head in with his shovel. It twitched and toppled to its knees, and he bashed its chest in for good measure since the majority of golems concealed the most important components in the head and chest.
Another golem tried to sneak up on him, and he jerked away from its attack. These things had quite a diverse array of weapons. Some had swords, but there were others with spears, daggers, pikes, and even maces and flails. Still, he couldn’t understand why they’d been made of bronze. It certainly made them look impressive, but bronze was hardly the most durable metal. Steel golems would have been more expensive, but they would also have posed a much greater threat to intruders. Heck, if it had been up to him, he would have taken the money necessary to build this many bronze golems and put it into building maybe three or four golems out of something like orichalcum or some other semi-legendary substance. Oh well. He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If his enemy wanted to make his life easier, then so be it. He was due for some good luck.
Not far away, Vicky had created a sword of light and was busy slicing through the golems with characteristic ease. For all that she excelled at pummelling things, she was a genius with a blade. If Timmy ever beat her, it was mostly because he had more experience with a sword and had picked up countless tricks from fighting against a master swordsman who thought that carving him up on a regular basis was a good way to train him. But Vicky was a sponge. She only needed to see something once or twice before she could make it her own, and she worked extremely hard too. Yes, she was that rarest of things: a genius that worked hard, which was great since she was almost always on his side. Golem after golem fell, and Timmy could tell that she was enjoying herself. The golems might not have been a threat to her individually, but their sheer numbers forced her to fight as quickly and efficiently as possible.
On his other side, James was making good progress through the golems as well. Apart from his sword, he was using his coins, and the air around him was filled with streaks of movement as he used the coins to pierce the golems’ exteriors and puncture their more delicate inner workings.
A spear aimed at his face forced Timmy to refocus, and he returned to breaking any golems he could reach. It took them a while, but as the last of the golems fell the next general decided to make his appearance. It was every bit as ostentatious as the hall they were in, which was a pity since Timmy was already calculating the value of so much bronze. He could make a tidy profit from selling the golems if he managed to make it out of here in one piece.
Part of the floor opened up, and a platform coated in gold and silver rose out of the floor. Timmy blinked. He needed to learn how to build something like that. The general resembled a giant, demented bat with his long, scraggly, black cloak that billowed majestically in a non-existent breeze. He drew two swords with a flourish and gave them a grand, mocking bow before he stepped off the platform and struck a pose, one sword pointed straight at them, the other held out to one side. It looked awfully heroic, or it would have if the general hadn’t been a zombie whose face closely resembled a dehydrated prune with overly large teeth.
Vicky tried to do the sensible thing: blast him with her magic while he was posing. However, he deflected her attack with his swords and his magic. Timmy’s eyes narrowed as a bright glow settled around the general’s weapons. Despite being a zombie, he was using light magic to reinforce himself and his weapons, not unlike what Vicky did when she fought or used a normal weapon instead of one made of light. Timmy felt his estimate of the necromancer who had turned the generals into zombies grow. It was notoriously difficult to create a zombie that retained its light magic, and it got harder the more powerful that light magic was. The general’s lips curved up into a grim parody of a smile, and he moved one of his swords back and forth in what was clearly a gesture of admonition.
“Make swords for me and James,” Timmy said to Vicky. “I’m willing to bet that those swords of his are well made, and if his light magic is anywhere near as strong as yours, neither James’s sword nor my shovel will do too well against them now that he’s enhancing them with his light magic.”
Vicky made each of them a sword out of light, and both Timmy and James took a moment to familiarise themselves with the feel of their new weapons. Despite being made of light, they seemed to weigh almost as much as a regular sword. Odd. He’d have to ask Vicky about that later since light magic wasn’t exactly one of his specialities.
“Should we fight him individually or together?” Vicky asked.
Timmy pursed his lips. It was a reasonable question. Fighting together wouldn’t help if they only got in each other’s way. However, despite all the arguing they did, they knew each other’s fighting styles extremely well. Heck, he and James detested each other, but he rarely had to shout more than a few words for the other boy to understand his plans.”
“Together,” Timmy said at last. His lips curved up into a faint smile. “Look at him just standing there.” The general had struck another truly impressive pose, and his cloak continued to billow around in a stiff breeze that no one else could feel. Was he seriously using magic to make himself look more impressive? “He wants this to be as epic as possible. We might as well oblige him.”
James snorted. “A zombie with a sense of drama? Will wonders never cease? Unbelievable. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was your doing.”
They moved forward together, and the general met them halfway with what passed for a grin on his withered face. The first clash of blades sent sparks flying every which way, and Timmy grimaced at the sudden increase in brightness. This was the first time he’d seen light magic this powerful clash against Vicky’s. It was beautiful. Each time their blades met, it was like a cloud of fireflies was born.
As the battle unfolded, Timmy had to scramble to keep up. The zombie general was incredibly fast and skilled. He would have loved to ask the necromancer who’d made him how they’d managed it. Meanwhile, Vicky’s swordsmanship was stunning. Her hand-to-hand fighting style varied depending on how much magic she used. It could go from flowing and elegant to brutally efficient in an instant. But her swordplay was an exquisite mix of elegance, efficiency, speed, and power. She might not favour a sword in combat, but no one would ever have known that by watching her.
On Timmy’s other side, Ja
mes wielded his blade the same way he did everything: bluntly but efficiently and with a modicum of grace. James had always relied on his thorough mastery of the basics to assert his will in a fight, putting his trust in his many hours of training rather than tricks or traps.
As for Timmy, he’d grown up getting pummelled by one of the greatest swordsmen in Everton. He had excellent basics, but it was his cunning and ability to read his opponents that had allowed him to survive the training sessions his master subjected him to whenever he was in a bad mood. Being maniacally devious and cunning had its advantages, and Timmy had beaten more than one technically superior opponent through deception and misdirection.
But even with all three of them attacking, they still weren’t winning.
The general’s two swords were a blur as he fended off blow after blow. He spun and flung Timmy back with a thunderous blow and then leaned back just far enough to dodge a strike from Vicky. As the girl brought her weapon around to block the general’s riposte, the zombie landed a hard kick to James’s stomach. His subsequent follow up would have decapitated James if Timmy hadn’t kicked the other teenager’s legs out from under him. It was a shame, but he couldn’t let James die here. His grades would suffer, and getting to kick him was some compensation, at least.
“You oaf!” James hissed.
“I saved your life, you jerk,” Timmy shot back as they got to their feet.
Vicky was still fighting, and she and the general exchanged a storm of blows at dizzying speed, their forms little more than blurs as both of them began to draw on more and more of their magic. A missed slash carved a furrow in the floor, and Vicky vaulted back before her opponent could take advantage of her miss.
“A little help?” Vicky shouted. “He’s good.”
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