by Mark Albany
Should I make it back alive, that was.
The house was fairly deserted, and not only because of the fire. I had attended a couple of parties at this house with Vis, and it had always been humming with activity. It appeared that Vis’ intelligence that Pollock and his wife were currently staying in a house nearer the coast had been correct.
It was odd that Pollock had a magical item in his possession at all. The topic itself was taboo, with most items being held by mages and men of power, and there had been no indication that Pollock was one of those. He was the son of a merchant who had done well enough for himself to purchase a place in the gentry, with the Emperor’s records being altered to show him as the descendant of some extinct house.
It was all too far above me to really give a shit about it, but it did raise the question of why there would be something of magical importance within the man’s walls.
The shouting faded almost completely as I made my way down the steps that led into the manse’s basement. I kept my eyes and ears tuned for the smallest sound or slightest movement. Sure, intelligence was all well and good, but the house being this abandoned, especially this close to something that was supposed to be incredibly valuable, was making me nervous. There had to be defenses set up around the house to keep me from doing precisely what I had just done.
Nobody expected their house to get robbed, which was kind of the point. Even so, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things had been going just a little too well. Something was bound to go wrong. As I navigated the expansive maze that made up even the basement I felt myself grow more and more nervous.
Vis would kill to have a manse like this, I realized with a small smirk as I slipped inside the chamber that was supposedly where I would find the piece of parchment.
Again, the absence of any guards at all made me uneasy. The door was locked, but only by a bolt kept in place by a heavy but simple pin tumbler padlock. I pulled out the lockpicks I’d brought with me, dropping to a crouch. The lighting wasn’t the best, but these things were best done by feel anyway. Less than a minute later, the padlock popped open.
A three-tumbler padlock. It was like they wanted someone to break in.
There were no torches or lamps inside, but those outside the room gave me enough light to find my way inside. There was a pedestal in the center of the room where a simple page of parchment lay.
There was a feeling in my gut telling me to get out. This wasn’t worth it. Something was going to go wrong, and I would end up in some dungeon being tortured for information. I could probably make a break for it. The forest was just outside this property. Sure, I didn’t know anything about scavenging, hunting, or anything involving survival beyond the comforts of the city, but it had to be better than whatever I had to face in here, right?
Wrong. I shook my head before heading the room, looking around before picking the parchment up.
It resisted my tug, almost like there was an invisible force around it keeping my fingers from reaching it while keeping it on the pedestal.
It had little strength, but the moment I lifted the piece, a soft gong sounded somewhere. Not in this room, but close by. In the basement.
“Fuck!” That was all I had time to say before I heard boots stomping. They had to have been nearby to react this quickly, and the gong that had alerted them to my presence made them move a lot quicker than anticipated.
It wasn’t long before there was a pair of men in full plate armor in front of me, each carrying a club in one hand and a torch in the other.
“Who the fuck are you?” one of the men asked, coming in closer.
“I’m… here to make sure the parchment is kept safe from the fire outside,” I said quickly, not sure where the lie had come from. It wasn’t very good.
“That’s what we’re here for, dumbass,” the man on the left said as he approached me. “Put it back and come with us.”
“I… cannot stray from my duties, sir,” I said quickly, watching as they both started closing in. An idea was starting to form. I knew my way back up to the ground floor, and it would be a simple thing to get out over the wall and to the forest where I could lose all pursuers. All I needed to do was get out of this damned trap of a room.
The man on the right reached me before his comrade, nudging at me with his club. “Wait until Kruger gets his hands on you, worm.” He reached down to hook the club into his belt, presumably so he would have a hand free to grab and restrain me without putting his torch down.
I jumped into action almost without thinking. I wasn’t much of a fighter, but then again, I wasn’t trying to fight. I needed to get away, and that came a lot easier than actually having to beat these men myself. I reached out, grabbing at the man’s torch and shoving it into his comrade’s face. The man screamed and stumbled back, dropping his torch and club to bat out the fire that had caught on his beard.
Using the distraction, I pushed the first man into the wall behind him and vaulted the pedestal, sprinting toward the door, which I closed and bolted as soon as I passed through. There had been no access to the bolt from the inside, I noted, and that would keep my two friends occupied for the time it took me to escape the grounds.
I could hear shouting as soon as I reached the stairs leading up from the basement, and it told me that my presence had been discovered. It appeared that the gong that had alerted the two to my presence had done the same with the rest of the guard. A few were still working to contain the flames, but there were guards starting to rush toward me.
I still had time. The manse was a maze, which was as much a disadvantage to them as it was to me. I circled around, away from them and in the opposite direction that I’d originally come in, and away from the other men making their way toward me.
I slipped out through one of the doors that had been left open. I could see the forest looming large just over the small, easily-cleared wall. The dark trees were usually daunting, but right now they were a sight for sore eyes as I rushed through the bushes and over the paths, making my way toward the wall. Just a few feet away, I jumped, diving over the wall toward freedom.
The hand carrying the parchment crashed into something just before it reached the perimeter. I felt my whole body pushed back into the garden I was trying to escape. The blow knocked the breath out of me as I blinked, looking at the wall, trying to figure out just what it was that had stopped me from escaping.
I pushed myself back to my feet, hearing the voices from inside the house coming closer. My shoulder and arm were both hurting, but I shrugged the pain off for the moment, reaching for the wall once more.
And once more, my hand crashed into something, bruising my knuckles painfully.
“Fuck!” I cursed, pushing my hand harder against the invisible barrier. There was a bit of give to it. I heard the door that I’d used to leave the house open, and heard shouting as the men that came out saw me.
“Over there!” one of them called. “Tell Kruger to send more men!”
Kruger. I’d heard the name before, in the basement. These men’s captain, maybe? I shook my head, growling as the barrier continued to give, but too slowly.
I could hear their boots trampling the bushes and getting closer to me as, suddenly, the barrier gave.
I gasped for breath just in time to land hard on top of the wall, feeling a jolt of pain as my ribs hit the edge.
No time to stop, though. No time.
“Fuck!” I hissed again, pushing myself over the wall. A hand caught hold of my ankle just as I was about to pull away and I landed heavily on the other side.
My other foot lashed out, hammering into the jaw of the man that had grabbed me, hard enough to send him stumbling back, and forcing him to let me go.
I dropped to the ground outside the wall in a pile, wincing as the aches and pains all got worse.
Still no time!
I pushed myself to my feet again, not even bothering to look back this time as I started running toward the forest. If I could just make it t
o the tree line, I would be safe. Safer, anyway.
Shadows closed around me as the trees blocked out the waning moonlight. I didn’t stop, not even then. The voices were still behind me, and I didn’t think the barrier would stop them from following me.
No, that seemed to be in place just to stop anyone carrying the damned piece of parchment. I took a deep breath, feeling my legs burning. I still couldn’t stop. Not yet.
3
I winced, ducking to avoid the branches that were whipping at my face. I touched my skin, feeling a light touch of blood coming from a cut on my cheek, but I couldn’t stop now. I could hear shouting from behind me. It was muted, but only because the sounds of my heavy breathing and pounding heart were filling my ears instead. They couldn’t be too far behind.
I felt something stick to my face as I avoided another branch. As I tugged at it, I realized that it was a web.
“Fucking spiders,” I muttered under my breath as I suddenly felt the need to make sure that there weren’t any of the eight-legged freaks crawling around on my body or hidden in my clothes. I shuddered but kept on running.
The worst a spider could do was bite me. I might die, but a few agonizing hours or days of death by spider bite was still better than what would happen to me if I was caught after stealing the parchment. The Lancers would be involved. There were tales of their dungeons, and in some cases, there were rumors of the Emperor’s personal magi getting involved in squeezing information out of people like me, to make them give up those who had ordered their actions.
I didn’t want to give Master Vis up. I owed the man everything. Unfortunately, the only other option would be to die on the table after days and days of torment.
Those were my only options should I get caught. There was a third option, of course, and it was what I was working toward so hard, pushing deeper and deeper into the damned forest, feeling my legs burning and heart trying to beat its way out from inside my rib cage.
I flicked at my face again, feeling more spider webs getting caught on it, and in the process, lost sight of where I was going. My foot caught on a jutting root and I stumbled a few steps forward before catching myself on the trunk of another tree. At that moment, I saw that the moonlight was shining through unimpeded in front of me, and the tree had kept me from plunging headfirst down a small cliff. Well, not quite a cliff, I thought. The slope was gentler and seemed to be covered in rocks and overturned earth, like it was a recent landslide.
I gasped, feeling a sensation of vertigo filling my body as I gripped the tree harder. This was all so fucking crazy. And all because I couldn’t contain myself and had to see how a ritual was performed. There was an anecdote involving curiosity and cats, but the exact wording of it escaped me as I looked down at the drop. In the darkness, I couldn’t see how far it went.
I turned around, hearing the shouting getting closer, this time joined by the sound of dogs barking in the distance. I gritted my teeth at the thought. I actually loved dogs, but the feeling wasn’t going to be mutual in this case. I gritted my teeth, looking at the ground ahead of me and taking a deep breath.
The drop wasn’t sharp. There was an incline where a man could slide down if he was lucky. If he was unlucky, he would get caught on a rock, get his legs torn up, and get sent tumbling head over heels.
The chances weren’t great, but as of right now, they were better than my chances of survival if I didn’t.
“Shit,” I growled, still gasping for breath as I took a step back and spared a few seconds to gather my courage, gently tucking the stolen parchment into my pouch before I cleared the edge and started falling. I turned on my side, feeling the loose rocks and soil starting to tear at my pants, leaving scratches all the way up my thighs. I clenched my teeth as I tried to keep myself from falling too quickly.
I succeeded—partially, anyway—and when I reached the bottom there was a gentle shock of impact as I rolled for a few feet before being stopped more harshly by what felt like a wall.
For a moment, it was all I could do just to stay conscious. My whole body hurt, with scratches running up and down my legs and arms. My clothes were mostly shredded, and while it was too dark to see, I could feel blood trickling down from the light cuts that I’d sustained.
Still, it was better than what would have been waiting for me if I hadn’t jumped.
I listened as hard as I could, but I couldn’t hear any shouting or dogs barking, so I was safe for the moment. Looking around didn’t reveal anything. Wherever I was, it appeared to be underground since there was no light from the moon or stars. I reached into the pouch that was thankfully still attached to my waist and grabbed the candle I usually brought along for jobs like this—you never knew when you were going to be skulking around somewhere dark and in need of light, after all—and some striking flint and steel. It took a few tries, as my hands were still shaking, but I eventually got the wick to light. I looked around.
This wasn’t a naturally-formed cave. It was the first thought that entered my mind. Stones had been cut and fitted into the walls. The lack of mortar between them spoke of exquisite design. Or would have, if I knew anything about masonry. I’d only read somewhere that stonework that didn’t need mortar was the best kind, but had no idea why.
There had been rumors about old buildings buried deep inside this forest, I remembered as I started making my way through the maze that was the ruins. Ancient fortifications against some legendary evil. It was a vast, expansive area, densely covered in trees, which explained why it was only a rumor, but who would have thought that they were this close? And underground, apparently?
I winced, feeling hot wax starting to drip down and coat my fingers, but the sounds of shouting coming from where I had entered the ruins brought my attention back to what it was that I was supposed to be doing. Which was escaping. It would be a maze for them too, I realized, but my chances of escaping would be best if I could get deeper inside the… tunnels? They looked like they could have been buildings once, with time and nature conspiring to cover them up over the years.
How many years had they been hidden like this? And how much longer would they have remained undiscovered if there hadn’t been a landslide?
I shook my head. I had just learned a lesson about how deadly curiosity could be. I didn’t want to learn it a second time. I gripped the candle tighter, moving carefully so as not to lose more wax, and moved deeper into the tunnels. They seemed to stretch on forever, but even as I was moving deeper, I could hear shouts coming from behind me. They’d left the dogs behind, it seemed, and were coming in personally to find me. An unexpected boon, I realized, taking a left when the path diverged.
A few minutes later, and a few random choices to keep the men who were after me guessing at my current location, the heat of the chase was starting to fade. I could feel the adrenaline in my body seep away, and all the pains, aches and bruises I’d suffered were starting to make themselves loudly known. My hands were shaking and I could feel exhaustion starting to fill me as I stumbled over the stone ground.
I had to find somewhere to rest. I wasn’t going to make it back to Vis’ manor tonight, not in the state I was in and certainly not with however many score of mercenaries were between myself and the only exit from this place that I knew about. I needed to find someplace to lay low, lick my wounds, and rest until morning when hopefully some light would filter in. I had taken the paths at random, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to find a way out without some help.
I paused, seeing a small room off to the left of the tunnel that I was walking down. Evidence that a door once existed remained in the form of a couple of rusted hinges, but the wood was gone. I slipped inside, careful now as my candle was starting to burn low. I had another one in my pouch, but I didn’t want to have to use it just yet. As I moved inside, I immediately regretted it. The walls were lined with coffins, neatly tucked into small cubbies carved out of the solid rock.
My breaths were coming in pants as I looked toward the end
of the room, which wasn’t even that large. One of the coffins had been disturbed. It was located in a place of honor on a pedestal, removed from the walls that held the others. Unlike the rest, which were untouched and heavy with dust, this one’s lid was laying half off. I moved closer, expecting to find a selection of bleached bones or a pile of human remains, but instead, what I found was a good deal more disturbing.
A woman, a noble by her clothes, was lying inside, eyes closed like she was sleeping. There was some discoloration to her skin, indicating that she was, in fact, dead. I reached out to gently nudge her cheek with my forefinger, feeling clammy skin and resistance to my touch that indicated that she had been dead for a while, yet not long enough to start smelling of rot or decay.
Now that I thought about it, this place, though it had been deserted for so long, somehow didn’t smell of destruction. There had been no sign of fighting, no scorch marks on the walls. It was like people had just suddenly decided to leave.
Until this woman had shown up, I realized, pushing the lid off completely. The wood dropped to the ground with a loud crack, immediately shattering into several pieces.
“Shit,” I hissed, telling myself to quiet down as I looked over the rest of her, using my candle for light. There wasn’t much else. Her clothes still looked fresh, untouched by the dust that had settled on everything else. No sign of injury, no wound or bruises, or anything like that. It was like she had just come here, laid down in a coffin, and died.
Odd. I caught a glimmer out of the corner of my eye, seeing a small ring on the woman’s hand. I was no grave robber, and yet there was something about it that grabbed my attention. I wasn’t sure what it was, but before I realized what I was doing, I was tugging at the ring. It came off her finger easily and was quickly curled into the palm of my hand.
