The Cave Maze- Wizard Warrior Quest

by C A A Allen

  “You’ve been bamboozled.” Dread actually looked sympathetic. “Let me tell you what that was actually all about. You heard them strategizing on how to pass off some fraudulent map for gold. It’s an old quester’s hustle that’s been around for years. I’m not surprised they tried to pull it off. I see this all the time in the streets of Trosworth when I go to Moe’s store. Beggars try to sell antiquated, or even straight up fake maps to questing tenderfoots. They’ll almost always promise the map they’re selling shows a ridiculously easy path to gold. Sounds familiar right? Raff our fathers are some hustlers. That whole service entrance map thing was just a part of their good game. You know how they do.”

  “I know when those two are perpetrating a fraud,” I said. “This was different. They argued over this map late into the night. Your dad ended up leaving the house upset, and with the map firmly in hand.”

  “Well that was a long time ago,” Dread says calmly. “If they did have a map that valuable, I’m sure it’s been sold by now.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “As Uncle Mack walked out the door that night he said ‘Riff, you can sell this map when you’re able to unlock my cold dead fingers from around it’.”

  I grip Dread’s arm, willing him to be sober and serious for a moment. “I need that map to be real Dread, it was my main selling point with Chaz. When I told him about the map his eyes lit up. He’s in, and willing to finance this run, only if I can show him we have an authentic Cave Maze map, with a little known entrance. I need you to talk your father into letting us use it.”

  Dread slapped his palm onto the bar. “But there is no map!”

  “Shhh, keep it on the low.” I looked around and took a deep breath. “You know what? Enough about the map for now. Let me hit you with something I know you’ll like. For our third fighter we’re going to recruit my girl Tigress.”

  “Your girl Tigress?” Dread asked.

  I leaned back and gave my chin a rub. “And you know that’s right. She’s deadly with those trident daggers, and has that bow and arrow in her arsenal too.”

  “Tigress is wicked with those daggers,” Dread said. “But she sucks with that bow.”

  “Well she’s a lot better than either of us. In addition to her fighting skills she doesn’t go anywhere without her sniffer Mustela, and we need a sniffer to be accredited. Tigress, and Mustela will be a perfect match for our team. With them in all we’ll need is a magic user to obtain official accredited status.”

  “And that’s the bee in the honey bucket,” Dread said. “Even if Chaz and Tigress are in, not having a magic user is an ugly problem. Without one user you’re dead, raw festering meat in the Maze. Zombo is Beeston’s only magic user, and after winning the scholarship he won’t be joining us.” Dread gulped down the last of his mead. “Thorvald my man! Another mead, quickly sir.”

  “Actually, there’s another magic user in this pub, as we speak.”

  Dread tapped one finger down on the bar and looked around. “In this pub, as we speak?”

  “Yes.” I held back a grin. Dread would hardly believe our luck when I told him.

  CHAPTER 6

  Dread tilted his head to one side. “Who are you speaking of, Cousin?”

  “We’re going to recruit Skeeter. He’s a Soothsayer-level magic user with well over twenty in-and-outs in the Maze. The man has even quested with Giovanni Mondavi himself. What more can you ask?”

  Dread choked on his last swig. “Skeeter?” He cleared his throat. “The drunken fool that tells Cave Maze stories for meads? He hasn’t been on a run for years.”

  “Well then he should come cheap,” I said. “We just have to clean him up a bit. Let’s go talk to the man.”

  Skeeter was in his usual spot, slumped over at a small table near the kitchen at the back of the pub. The brim of his brown leather hat flopped over his face.

  “Skeeter!” I flipped a wooden chair around, plopped down, and crossed my arms over the back of it. “We need to obtain your services for a Cave Maze run. Dread and I are forming what is going to be Beeston’s first accredited questing team, and we need you on it.”

  Skeeter did not bother to look up. “For a honey mead I can tell you what’s happening up in that Maze.”

  “Thorvald!” I call to the bartender. “Can I get a mead for Skeeter over here?”

  Dread sauntered over after me, seemingly reluctant, but I knew my cousin. He was curious.

  A tall cup of mead was set down in front of Skeeter with his signature bamboo drinking straw already in it. He slowly raised his head and squinted our direction. “You two have a seat here now.”

  Skeeter maneuvered his lips over the straw and sucked half the mead down before coming up for air. “Let me ask you something. Have you ever wondered why I drink my mead with a straw? Have you ever noticed that old-time magic users always wear gloves?” He stretched a shaky hand out to me. “Take off my glove Raff, I’m going to show you what a real magic user’s hands look like.”

  I pulled off Skeeter’s glove. All five of his fingers looked like rotten dried up beef jerky.

  Skeeter slammed his palm flat on the table. “A magic user’s power resides in the fingers. As we cast a spell, one fingernail glows blue. If we cast the spell for too long the color will turn from blue to red and then burn like haggish gonorrhea. That sensation acts as a kind of warning for us to stop casting the magic. If you press a spell for too long that same finger will shrivel up, and the spell will either end, or another finger will start to shrivel.”

  I look away. I didn’t know that about magic users. I didn’t want to know that about magic users.

  “Our ability to cast spells decreases with every finger shriveled. As fingers are lost, powers diminish. Once all your fingers are shriveled, all your magic is gone, forever.”

  “But wait,”—Dread snatched a dirty rag from a passing barmaid’s tray and tossed it over the decrepit hand—“why wouldn’t you just stop casting the spell as soon you get the red burn? And damn Skeet, can we get that glove back on? Looking at those things is making me sick.”

  Skeeter flipped the rag off his hand onto the floor. “My very powerful abilities as a magic user came early in life Dread. Those incompetent monks at the abbey didn’t know what to do with it, and I wasn’t going to listen to they mouth for three years. I jumped into Cave Maze questing at fifteen as an off-the-board magic user for hire. Only unaccredited captains hire off the board, so I ended up working on teams made up of horribly unskilled questers. When they got into trouble, I would have to cast my spells for way too long. I saved a lot of lives, and lost a lot of fingers in the process. I could have stopped my spells at the red burn and saved my own self many times, but that’s not me. I sacrifice fingers for my people. This is a trait you two won’t find in magic users nowadays.”

  “That’s why we need you for this run,” I said. “Join us and represent for team Beeston.”

  Skeeter sucked down the last of his mead. “I lost nine fingers during my first year in the Maze. I went from a powerful four-spell Soothsayer, to a basic one-spell Magician. I did a whole lot for the teams that hired me during that year, but I didn’t make a lot of gold. That’s when being a product of Beeston saved me. The great Giovanni Mondavi himself hired me for his team, even though I only had one finger of spell power.”

  One finger? I scratched the back of my neck. This wasn’t good.

  “We quested it up something fierce in the Maze. After three years with Giovanni I earned my twentieth in-and-out, and Vavasseur ranking on the tote board in Trosworth. Unfortunately not even the best questing captains schemes always go right. Two runs after I became a Vavasseur, I lost my tenth finger. Now that all my fingers are shriveled up, I don’t have magic powers no more.”

  “No magic power at all?” I asked.

  “I can’t even flick a flame,” he said. “If you two are foolish enough to proceed with this you’re going to have to hire a magic user in Trosworth for your team. When you interview mak
e sure to check they bare hands. If all fingers are intact, then they probably the selfish type that are not willing to give it all for their team. The last thing you want is a magic user who’s afraid to lose a digit. They’ll let you down at the worst possible moment.”

  Dread gently put Skeeter’s glove back on his hand and looked toward the bar. “Thorvald! Another mead on me for my man Skeeter here.”

  Skeeter nodded his head and slumped back down into his usual position. Dread and I went back to our seats at the bar.

  “So we don’t have a magic user,” I said. “I’m sure we can pick up a decent one in Trosworth, just like Skeeter said. And now we know what to look for.”

  Dread shook his head. “So the two of us, Chaz, Tigress, Mustela, and a magic user to be named later. That’s the team. Enlighten me with the rest of your plan.”

  Dread hadn’t given up on me yet, but he was about to if I didn’t convince him quick. “Listen up cousin. My plan will have us back in Beeston with a sack of huo-yao in five days. This will give Uncle Mack one whole day to manufacturer the chest-busters for Joseph’s order.”

  Dread dug deep in his hair trying to scratch his head. “A Cave Maze run in just five days? I don’t see it.”

  “Tomorrow morning is day one.” I tick off a finger. “We’ll meet up with Chaz then go to Tigress’s house to recruit her and Mustela. After securing them we’ll be off to Chilwell where we stay the night. Day two we’ll book early morning passage to Trosworth where we’ll hire our magic user, apply for accreditation, purchase supplies, and get a good night’s rest.”

  I hold up a third finger, trying hard not to imagine Skeeter’s shriveled ones. “On day three we’ll take the safe and easy Elfin Toll Road to the Entry Caves. Once there we’ll utilize the map’s entrance to get in, snatch up all the gold we need, and get out. We’ll make camp right there outside the Entry Cave. Day four we’ll take the toll road back to Trosworth, purchase the sack of huo-yao, and stay the night. Day five we book passage back home. Not only will we be able to restock the shop with busters, but I will have plenty of gold for my freshman year tuition, and you can resume your gambling problem.”

  “It’s not a problem when all you do is win,” Dread said. “Does our financier know how much gold all that will cost? Booking passage and acquiring lodging for a questing team can get really expensive. Hiring a magic user and paying the elves’ toll can soak up oodles of gold. Chazmiser and the whole Manor family are notoriously cheap. I don’t think he’ll be able to get enough gold to cover what it would take to make this happen.”

  “You just focus on getting the map from your father.” I slapped him on the back. “Oh, and the chest-busters too. You said we have enough huo-yao left for three, so we need those made up tonight, at full strength. Let Uncle Mack know this run is going to get us more than enough gold for a fat sack of huo-yao, and that’s going to keep the shop open for a long time. I’ll handle the financials with Chaz in the morning.”

  Dread got off his seat, stood up tall, and raised his cup of mead. “Well bottoms up then! Like our fathers always said, “You got to make hustles bold, to fill your bags with gold.” I’m in to make this happen.”

  Suddenly, the day didn’t seem so dark. I stood and clanked my cup with his. “That’s exactly what I am talking about, I’ll drink to bags filled with gold all day long.”

  CHAPTER 7

  A stray bee buzzed by me in an early morning search for its hive. I passed up a few merchants pulling hand carts loaded with beeswax candles, jars of honey, and barrels of our signature mead.

  Sweet-scented curlicues coming from the baker’s shop called to me as I got closer in. Dread rested there on one knee, dressed in traveling garb with a full pack on his back. A young couple leaned over him, peering at something on the ground.

  I stepped in closer for a better view. Dread fiddled with three identical walnut shells, placing a pea underneath one. A few of the couple’s silver pennies lay in the dust for the winner.

  A shell game.

  Dread clumsily moved the shells around each other in a semi-confusing manner before offering them up.

  The couple whispered in each other’s ears and pointed at various shells. The man picked the shell in the middle, the obvious choice. Dread lifted the shell to reveal no pea.

  The man turned red and clinched his fists. “But, but I—”

  I did my best to keep a straight face but turned my head to hide the smirk. Of course there is no pea under that shell. They don’t stand a chance against Dread’s trickery.

  The female companion nudged the man. “I knew that wasn’t the correct shell, Soapy! What are you doing?”

  Dread looked up at me and nodded his head slightly. “Hello Sir, would you like to take part in a game of chance?”

  “All right. This game looks easy.” I loved acting as a shill in this, the most basic swindle our fathers ever taught us. I tossed a gold coin on the ground and the game began. Once again Dread placed a pea under one of the three walnut shells and moved them around. I took a false moment then pointed to the obvious shell. Dread lifted it to reveal I won.

  “Son of a leprosy-ridden whore!” Soapy screeched. He stomped away mumbling.

  The lady friend gave chase, screaming and pushing him in the back. “How could you choose wrong? I told you, I told you!”

  Dread flipped my gold coin back to me. “The shell game never gets old.” He smiled and stuffed the couple’s silver pennies in his pocket.

  “You haven’t lost your touch,” I said. “But this is no time for petty hustles, please tell me you acquired that map.”

  “I got the busters,” he said. “But no map. Turns out your father has the map, or at least he should still have it.”

  I dropped my pack. “Not good.” I couldn’t believe this. Counting on my dad for anything but distress was bad business. He probably sold the map and spent the proceeds on mead, gambling, and loose women. “Chaz wanted to see the map before committing to the cause, this could be a deal breaker.”

  Dread put his hand on my shoulder. “Well you’re in luck, Uncle Riff is doing his troubadour thing at King Head’s in Chilwell for the next two days. Your plan has us arriving in Chilwell tonight. If he still has the map, we can get it from him there. You can also ask him why he is lagging on the huo-yao.”

  This just got better. My father’s profession had done nothing but fuel the Jenkins reputation as scoundrels. As a traveling musician, it would be one thing if he performed in castles for kings, but he got down in seedy pubs and alehouses, hustling and womanizing all along the way. How wonderful I got to witness this first hand. When I enter the respected profession of being a quester, the shaky Jenkins reputation would finally be lifted off of me.

  “Look,” Dread said. “Here comes your boy Chaz now.”

  Chazekial walked down the road with a full complement of gear-a leather breastplate vest, high-calf boots, a stuffed shoulder-pack, and a beautifully crafted two-handed sword. It had a bright shine and looked fresh off the grinding wheel sharp.

  Chaz set his gear on the ground. “Before we talk business, I need to see that map.”

  Play it cool. I smiled and greeted him with open arms. “The map’s in Chilwell with my father. We have to pick it up from him on our way to the Maze. I thought you knew, Chaz.”

  Chaz’s nostrils flared. “Thought I knew nothing! It sure did not take long for this to get shady with the cousins, Jenkins. Raff I told you, my gold and I will not step foot out of Beeston until I see that map. I want to examine that secret entrance you told me about. You said the map is in your possession, so what’s this stinking pile of rubbish all about?”

  “No need for the hostilities Chaz,” I said. “The map is in Jenkins family possession, we got to keep an item like that safe. We’ll have it in hand shortly after we arrive in Chilwell this evening.”

  “That was not our deal.” He swung his shoulder pack onto his back again, as if preparing to leave. “The deal was I get to see
the map before we leave Beeston. If you two are changing things then I got a few changes also. Seventy percent of the Cave Maze take is going home with me, and that’s after expenses.”

  Dread glared at Chaz. “Oh that won’t happen! We got a map that leads to a honey hole. You lucky we letting you in on this run.”

  Chaz stretched out his two empty hands. “I don’t see this honey hole map. You don’t have the gold to finance a questing team and I do. No map, no gold, no Cave Maze run. The golden rule is in full effect here—he who has the gold makes the rules. I have the gold, what do you two have?”

  I stepped in close to Chaz. “We got the map. It’s in Chilwell. We also got huo-yao packed chest-busters, that’s what we got.” I stepped away and picked up my pack. “Tigress got the best sniffer in Broxington, and you got the financing. We’re all bringing something to the table here Chaz, the Cave Maze take will be divided evenly between the four of us. You putting your gold up for expenses is temporary. You’ll get all that back, right off the top, with the first chest Dread cracks open in the Maze.”

  Chaz slowly nodded his head. “Yes I will, I will take that directly off the top. Let’s get on our way then, and there better not be no more surprises.”

  Chaz took the lead down the road toward Chilwell. I released a pent-up breath as Dread and I followed. If Chaz and his financing had pulled out, the run would have been over before it began.

  “Hay Raff,” Dread said under his breath. “If Tigress isn’t willing to go on this run, would that be considered another surprise to your friend?”

  “I got this all under control, Dread. Tigress will be in, the map will be there, and we’ll be all good.”

  Our walk took us slowly out of the Beeston valley. The buzz of bees turned to songs of birds, and wind in the tall forest trees.

  My father and I helped Tigress and her mom move from Beeston to their current home the day after we graduated from the abbey. It was a lot longer of a walk than I remembered. We made a left turn off the main road and continued down a narrow trail between trees.