by M. L. Forman
“Taken,” said Skeld. “We were forced to put them in an iron lockbox after we were captured. If we’d had our bags, we could have escaped before ever reaching this cursed city. The lockbox was brought here as well, but I don’t know where it is now.”
“I’ll see if I can find it, but no promises,” said Alex. “I’m going to put you all inside my bag for the time being. There’s plenty of food and water there, and there’s a fire burning to keep you warm. If I can find your things I’ll call you out again so you can collect them.”
“It would be better if we made our own way out of this dungeon,” said one of Skeld’s companions. “The rules of honor—”
“None of you looks like you could make your own way out of this pit without help,” Alex cut in. “And as for the rules of honor, well, I’m invoking my wizard’s privilege to waive them. There will be no loss of honor to any of you for accepting the safety of my bag.”
“Wizard’s privilege—and some common sense,” said Skeld with a weak grin.
“There is a dark wizard here,” said one of the other adventurers. “You should be careful of him as you search.”
“I will be,” said Alex. “Now, everybody up. I think you’ll find my bag more comfortable than this pit.” He looked around. “Wait. I was told there were six of you. I count only five.”
“There were six of us,” said Skeld, a look of anger on his face. “The men of Nezza have no honor. They shoot first and ask for a peaceful surrender after.”
One of the other adventurers touched Skeld’s arm and he fell silent.
Without waiting for further discussion, Alex held out his magic bag and gave the command for it to put all five prisoners inside it. There was the sound of rushing air, and Alex was suddenly alone in the dungeon. He moved back to the iron door, then put out his weir light.
The guards were still asleep. Alex rebolted the iron door and relit the guard’s lamps. Then he worked his magic and became invisible once more. He thought it would be best to wake the guards before leaving. If someone found them asleep, it might raise questions and suspicions. Awake, the guards might remain where they were for hours. Plus, then they might be able to tell him where to look for the adventurer’s magic bags.
“Wake,” Alex commanded.
The two guards stirred, then struggled sluggishly back to their feet. They looked confused and worried.
“The iron box that holds the adventurers’ possessions—where is it?”
“Nothing came with the adventurers,” one of the guards answered.
“If there was something of great value, where would the wizard keep it?” Alex tried again.
“Things of value to the wizard would be in his private rooms at the top of the tower,” the guard answered.
“Forget,” Alex said.
The worried looks on the guard’s faces vanished, and they stood at attention on either side of the door. Turning away, Alex headed back up the passageway as fast and as quietly as he could. The guard’s answer was not what he had hoped for. He wasn’t ready to face Magnus, and recovering the stolen magic bags might mean that he’d have to. As he started up the stairway, he considered leaving the magic bags where they were for now.
Alex was almost to the stairs that would lead him up to the fourth level of the dungeon when he stopped short. The sound of moving men echoed through the dungeon, and torchlight filled the hallway in front of him.
“What’s all this?” a voice asked in the darkness.
“Orders,” came the answer.
Alex moved closer. He wanted to hear what orders had been given.
“The dungeons are to be searched from top to bottom. Every room is to be inspected without exception,” said a man who looked like an officer.
“We haven’t got enough men to do that,” another man answered. “There are rooms down here that nobody’s ever seen, and passageways that end in bottomless pits.”
“More men will be coming,” the officer answered. “For now, all of you are to stand guard in front of the stairs. Nothing is to get past you to the fourth level. Understood?”
The guards nodded and spread out across the stairway.
Alex’s only escape had just been blocked off.
Chapter Six
The Escape
As he retreated from the torchlight, Alex let his right hand brush against the wall. His mind felt empty, unable to think or plan. When his hand found an open space in the darkness, he turned into another hallway. After walking another hundred yards, he stopped and closed his eyes.
What is Magnus doing right now? Alex asked himself.
The answer came to him, and it was as if Alex could almost see what Magnus was thinking. He knew that Alex was in the dungeons somewhere, and he knew that he’d found the adventurers. With guards at all the stairways, and more searching the dungeon from top to bottom, there was little chance for Alex to escape. Alex thought he could magic his way past most of the guards, but sooner or later someone would notice, and then Magnus would know exactly where he was.
Conjuring a weir light to guide him, Alex broke the spell that made him invisible. If Magnus could track Alex by his magic use, then Alex couldn’t stay invisible forever.
He has a plan; he must, Alex thought, remembering what Savage had told him.
Magnus had known that Alex was in Nezza for at least four days. He might have been planning for something like this for years, but what was his plan? Alex couldn’t guess, but one thing became clear in his mind. Whatever Magnus had planned, he would need to be close by to make his plan work. Magnus would want to be in the dungeons when Alex was found.
“If I wasn’t stuck in the bottom of the dungeon, now would be the perfect time to enter Magnus’s rooms and find the missing magic bags,” Alex said.
Then you need to find a way out of the dungeon, his O’Gash answered.
The soldier in the tavern had mentioned the pipes under the dungeon, but Alex didn’t think there was much hope there. He was so far underground that any pipes leading to the river would be flooding the dungeon with water. Still, if he could find the pipes, he might be able to use them to move into one of the higher levels of the dungeon.
Alex continued to walk, keeping his eyes open for any sign of pipes along the walls or drains in the floor. He shivered in the cold, damp air, and he pushed his right hand into his pocket to get it warm. If he’d known he’d be trapped in the dungeon, he would have worn warmer clothes.
After what felt like a long time, Alex was forced to stop at the edge of a large open pit. The floor appeared again about twenty feet beyond the pit, but everything ahead of him was in darkness. He sent his weir light down into the pit but soon called it back. The pit was deep, and he didn’t want to think about what might be at the bottom of it.
Wake up! Alex’s O’Gash screamed inside his head. Magnus’s magic is dulling your wits already.
Alex hadn’t felt any magic, but he knew it was there just the same. Magnus had done something to put him into a trancelike state. If he didn’t shake himself out of it now, it might be too late.
“What options do I have?” said Alex.
Go back the way he had come? No good—too many soldiers. Staying where he was only meant that the soldiers would eventually find him. He could move forward, but to where? The passageway might continue on the far side of this pit, but there was no way for him to know where it would lead. He could wonder aimlessly for days and still be stuck in this dungeon.
Someone built the passageway, so it must go somewhere, said his O’Gash.
Forward was his only real choice, but he didn’t like it. He sent his weir light across the empty space, changing into a swallow to follow it. Alex instantly returned to his own form on the far side of the pit and increased the brightness of his weir light. There was little chance of anyone seeing the light, and the glow made him feel more awake.
Worried that Magnus’s magic would dull his mind if he didn’t stay focused, Alex started off at a quick pace
. He felt more awake and was even curious about why this passageway had been made so far under the city. He continued to watch for pipes or anything else that might help him, but he saw nothing.
The tunnel started to bend and twist as he followed it, and in places it seemed to be moving in an upward direction. The possibility that the tunnel might lead to the surface encouraged Alex, and he hurried forward. The bends became regular corners, turning sharply every hundred feet or so. When the floor became steeper, he knew that the passage was leading toward the surface and he had to slow his pace.
A short set of stairs appeared out of the darkness. The stairs went down into what looked like a massive room. Alex took the first two steps down and then froze in his tracks. His eyes went wide as he looked into the room, and his whole body felt cold. There was a huge pile in the middle of the room and crawling over and around that pile were thousands and thousands of rats.
Go back, go back, go back, a weak-sounding voice at the bottom of Alex’s brain squealed.
Why? They’re only rats, said a stronger voice at the top of his brain.
Evil, disgusting, nasty rats, the weak voice answered. They are watching every move I make. They are watching for their chance to attack.
Alex looked around the room, and thousands of little eyes reflected his weir light, shining back at him. The rats were watching, but that was all they were doing.
They see the light and are afraid of it, the stronger voice in his head said. If I enter the room, they will run away from the light.
They will attack and drag me down with their numbers, the weak voice answered.
Alex tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. He ran his tongue over his lips and it felt like a piece of sandpaper. Cold sweat ran down his back, and his whole body shivered.
I’ve seen rats before, and I’m not afraid of them. I don’t have time for this, the stronger voice said. I can see a path on the far side of the room. I need to hurry, so stop complaining and get moving.
Alex tried to move but he couldn’t. His muscles were tight, ready to break into a run, but they would not obey his commands. A strange, squishy, splatting noise pulled his eyes to the rat-covered pile at the center of the room. He looked up and saw a faint light coming from the ceiling. There were holes in the ceiling. The light seemed to flicker, and then shadows fell onto the pile below.
I must be under the kitchens, said the strong voice. They are dropping their garbage into this room to get rid of it. That’s why all these rats are here. I’m close to the surface now.
They are breeding the rats to destroy anyone who tries to escape the dungeons, said the weak voice. If I go too close, they will swarm over me. Rats will eat anything they can get their paws on—dead or alive.
No. This is Magnus’s magic, Alex’s O’Gash said. It has slowed your mind and magnified your fear.
I’m not afraid of rats. I just don’t like them, said the strong voice in Alex’s mind. The rats won’t do anything if I move forward. They are too busy with their trash pile to care.
Something terrible will happen if I go in there! the weak voice shrieked.
Alex tried to move forward, but it was almost impossible. His right foot slid a few inches across the ground and stopped. His left leg didn’t move at all. Magic or not, the fear in his brain was holding him in place.
I feel happy, I feel sad, I feel angry, I feel afraid. Fear is just another feeling. It can only hurt me if I let it, Alex’s strong voice reasoned.
It is real, the weak voice whined. I . . . I can’t . . .
Alex dragged his left foot across the step, and he moved forward. A second effort pulled his right foot to the floor of the room. He closed his eyes, not out of fear but in concentration. He had to move forward in order to break the spell of fear that held him back. Again and again his feet shuffled forward, and with each painfully slow step, the weak voice at the bottom of his brain howled for him to run.
After what seemed like forever, Alex opened his eyes and found that he was only a few steps away from the far side of the room. The tunnel he had been following was in front of him, and he almost jumped into it. He paused to look back into the room. The rats were still swarming the trash pile, unconcerned with Alex and the battle he had just won.
Alex followed the tunnel, changing directions and climbing one last steep section using his hands and feet. He was breathing hard and sweating, but he’d found what he was looking for. In front of him the tunnel wall dropped down, leaving a much smaller opening. Pale light shined through the opening, and he could smell fresh air. He put out his weir light and stood still for a moment, catching his breath. When he felt like he could move quietly, Alex dropped to his knees and crawled through the opening.
Alex looked up at the night sky. Only ten or twelve feet above him was an iron grate that covered the stone box he’d crawled into. With no time to waste, Alex became a swallow, fluttering up and through the iron bars.
Landing, he found himself in what looked like a forgotten garden. Roses grew across stone paths and clung to small stone statues. A quick glance told him that he was in the center of some large building. He flew up into the open air and got a better look at the city around him.
To Alex’s surprise, he was still on the island in the middle of the river. The building he’d just left looked like it might have been a palace once, but it was shabby and run-down now. The entrance to the dungeon, and the tower where he hoped to find the magic bags of the adventurers, was close by. He flew to the top level of the tower only to find that the windows on the top level had all been bricked shut, but that seemed like a small problem now that he was out of the dungeon.
Dropping down one level, Alex found a barred window that he could slip through. He landed in a dusty storage room full of books and scrolls and returned to his own form once more.
The door was unlocked, and Alex pulled it open just far enough so he could see the hallway outside. There were no sounds, and the dimly lit hall appeared to be empty. Alex pulled the door shut behind him and moved toward the near end of the hall, looking for a stairway that would lead him to Magnus’s rooms.
At first Alex moved with caution, thinking that Magnus would have guards posted. Finding no one to block his way, though, he realized that all the guards must be in the dungeons below, searching for him. How long had it been since the search had started? The moon had been setting in the west, so it had to be four or five hours since he’d first entered the dungeons. How long would it take to search the entire dungeon?
It doesn’t matter. I need to hurry, Alex thought.
Finding the stairs he was looking for, Alex started to climb as quietly as he could. He didn’t know for certain that Magnus would be in the dungeon; that was only a guess. He let his thoughts and magic move outward, searching for any signs of magic or any kind of trap that Magnus might have left on the stairway. There was nothing, and there was no magic around the locked door at the top of the stairway either.
With a twist of his hand and a little magic, Alex opened the door to Magnus’s private rooms. Everything was dark except for a strange ball of pale green light to Alex’s left. Closing and locking the door, Alex moved toward the ball of light. At the center of the ball was an iron lockbox sitting on a polished table.
The ball of light completely enclosed the box, and bending down, Alex could see the bottom of the ball extend underneath the table. The spell was obviously meant to keep the box safe. He needed to get the box out of the ball of light, but breaking the spell would alert Magnus to Alex’s whereabouts, and that would mean trouble.
Leaning his staff against the wall, Alex magically lit several candles around the room. He put his hands under the edge of the table and lifted. The table and the box together were heavier than he thought they would be. He checked his grip and lifted the table a little higher. The ball of green light stayed where it was, and so did the lockbox. Grunting with the effort, Alex lifted the table even higher. The box scraped on the table and move
d a few inches, but the ball of light didn’t move at all.
Alex took a deep breath and jerked the heavy table even higher. The box suddenly slipped, scraping the tabletop and crashing to the floor. Alex almost dropped the table, his eyes darting to the door as his heart raced with fear.
Magnus’s spell remained where it was, and there were no sounds of anyone racing up the stairs to see what all the noise was about. Alex took a few deep breaths and reached for his magic bag. He would take the box with him and open it when he was someplace safer.
Having placed the lockbox safe inside his magic bag, Alex was about to put out the candles when something else caught his eye. Next to the table was a large desk, and sitting on that desk was a dark crystal ball that Alex recognized as a scrying orb. He knew they were like an oracle’s crystal, only not as powerful or as clear to see things in. Next to the orb was a folded letter. Alex wondered who would be sending letters to Magnus.
Alex moved behind the desk and picked up the letter. Unfolding the page, he held it up so he could read it in the candlelight.
Magnus,
We have been informed that your foolish lord has imprisoned a company of adventurers. You are to dispose of these adventurers as quickly as possible. You are to remove all trace of them and to dispose of or transfer any soldier who knows that they have been brought to Karmus.
In the name of the Brotherhood,
Gaylan
Alex read the letter twice. The fact that it was signed “In the name of the Brotherhood” made a chill run down his spine. This was not one person giving an order to execute Skeld and his friends, but a person giving orders for a larger group of people—the Brotherhood.
Here, in Alex’s hand, was the first real proof that the Gezbeth, or “the Brotherhood” as they called themselves, existed. His emotions rose and then fell just as fast. He could prove that the Gezbeth was a real threat, but to whom? What was Magnus doing for them here in Nezza? Why did the Brotherhood care about a handful of adventurers?
