by Sam Ferguson
William nodded and smiled appreciatively. “Gods help the fool who comes through that door after us.”
Chapter 11
Traps set and doors locked as best as they could manage, Garrin and William went back to Richard and then continued through the hall to where Kaspar was impatiently pacing back and forth. Kaspar was quick to give Garrin a reproving click-clack and then he turned to scamper down a hallway to the left as the crystal floated along.
“Bit of an attitude on that one,” William noted.
Garrin nodded. “He’s a bit more excited than usual,” he replied.
The trio followed Kaspar through the hall, with Kiska and Rux close on their heels. They soon turned into a side chamber. Richard was stumbling now as he walked, exhaustion clearly setting in on the youth. Garrin stopped in the doorway, shaking his head.
“Kaspar, we aren’t sleeping in here,” he said. His eyes fell upon the many skeletons resting upon tattered beds in the room.
“By the gods,” William said reverently. “Looks like they were murdered in their sleep.” William pointed to one skeleton nearby that had a broken spear shaft protruding from its ribcage.
Garrin put a hand on Richard’s shoulder and turned the boy around before he could enter the room fully. “Come on, let’s find another room.” Garrin let the others out first as he turned back to the room and sighed. Perhaps that sorceress had been telling the truth after all. If the Punjak had been murdered in their beds, then it was a terrible crime indeed. As horrible as that nightmarish scene was, Garrin still couldn’t fathom that he could do anything about it now. How could he avenge a genocide that was centuries old?
Unlike other times when the group fell behind the crystal or moved in different directions and the crystal waited until they caught up, this time it moved to follow Garrin. The trapper opened doors on either side of the hallway, briefly poking his head in and seeing many scenes like the first.
“How many do you think perished in the night?” William asked as Garrin opened and inspected the seventh room briefly before closing it and shaking his head.
“Whoever did this had no heart,” Garrin said. They passed another ten doors before they finally came to a room free of skeletal remains. It was a kitchen situated at the end of the hall before it turned to the right. The prep tables were bare. Old pots hung from racks dangling from the ceiling, joined by cobwebs and covered in a thick layer of dust. Boxes and crates were stacked in the back, some covered with mold while others had broken down with age.
Still, there were no bodies, and that is all Garrin was needed to make a campsite for the night.
“Come in, bar the door, and let’s get settled in.”
William nodded and quickly went to the tables, laying out a bedroll on each one. Richard barely waited long enough for his bedroll to be set up before he crawled up onto the table and slipped into his covers. He was snoring before William or Richard had finished rearranging their own blankets.
Rux and Kiska took up positions flanking the door into the kitchen. Kaspar wouldn’t return to his canister either, choosing instead to curl up on top of Kiska and watch the door.
“Shall we take shifts?” William asked.
Garrin shook his head. “If the wizard makes it through the traps, he’ll still have to search the rooms. With any luck, he won’t make it this far. If he does, then the split-tails will wake us.”
The crystal started to fade then, spinning down through the air and approaching Garrin. The trapper held his hand out and took the artifact, tucking it back into the pouch on his belt.
“Is that it?” William asked. “Is it out of power?”
Garrin shrugged. He honestly had no idea. Either way, it had helped save them tonight. He found himself whispering a silent thanks to the sorceress as he crawled into his bedroll and closed his eyes. Yet, even as he could hear Richard’s snores and William’s breathing turned heavy and slow, sleep was unable to find the trapper. In his mind came images of what might have happened to those he had found in the bedrooms lining the hall. Shadowy forms moved quickly through the rooms, stabbing and slicing silently as their victims slept in their beds. Man, woman, child, it made no difference. They slaughtered them indiscriminately, turning what surely had once been a thriving city built within the mountain into nothing more than a catacomb filled with the echoes of its once blossoming civilization.
It seemed as though the nightmares plagued him for hours as time dragged by. It didn’t help that the table he was trying to sleep on was stiff and rigid as stone. He couldn’t settle his body, much less his mind. He tried to turn onto his side, but then his arm fell asleep. He rolled onto his back again, but the flat table made his lower back ache and throb. Finally he sat up, hoping to at least shake the discomfort of the table. He swung his legs over the side and put them down upon the floor. As he stood up, a faint glow came from the crystal as it emerged from the pouch once more and hovered in the air. This time, however, instead of spinning in place, it was making large orbits around Garrin. The trapper stood, bewildered at the sight.
Kaspar jumped up from Kiska’s back and went to the door, tail erect and body stiff.
A strange sound came from the other side of the door. At first it sounded like metal scraping upon stone, as if someone was dragging something along the floor. Then there were heavy thumps accompanied by high-pitched squeaks. A strange, green light appeared at the bottom of the door and the sounds stopped. The crystal around Garrin circled faster in the air, spinning and glowing brighter. The trapper tried to grab it and conceal the light, but it was too quick for him.
Kiska and Rux stood up as something tapped on the door. Their heads hung low and they began to growl.
The door was thrown open, despite having been locked and barred. There in the doorway stood not a wizard, as Garrin had expected, but a large, bipedal golem of metal. Its left arm ended in a great crossbow, while its right arm was fashioned with a three-fingered hand. A face of smooth metal turned and looked at Garrin with green eyes that glowed brightly. It lifted its hand and a wave of green light coursed through the room, illuminating each living creature therein and leaving them with what looked to be a covering of glowing, green dust. Garrin tried to wipe it off of himself, but it was as if the green dust had adhered to his skin permanently.
Kiska and Rux began to inch toward the strange golem, but Kaspar turned and chattered at them both. The two split-tails then sat on their haunches and ceased growling.
The metallic golem entered the doorway and its head turned as it scanned the inside of the room, the hinges in its neck squealing and screeching in protest. Then, the red crystal moved higher in the air and let out a wave of red light. The green dust disappeared from Garrin and the others, and the green eyes in the golem’s head began to glow red. The clunky machine turned and left the kitchen, pulling the door closed behind itself.
“What in the name of Hammenfein was that?” Garrin asked.
*****
Seidrif brushed himself off and picked himself up from the cave floor. He should have expected traps. The bearded wizard summoned his white crystal’s full strength, bathing the tunnel in bright light and laying bare the other tripwires before him.
“Clever,” Seidrif commented dryly. “Simple, but clever.”
With the added light from his crystal, he could easily avoid the others as he walked through the cave. The dirt and stone in the walls glistened with frost from the early morning air as he passed by with his crystal. This made it all the more easy to spot the rope snaking up the wall many yards into the tunnel. Seidrif eyed the trap carefully, and then stepped over it, avoiding triggering it. He had to stifle a laugh when he looked up and saw the hefty piece of wood hanging near the ceiling. The metal traps on the road had been very dangerous indeed, but these tripwires and this bit of wood that was hardly more than a stick in Seidrif’s estimation, reeked of desperation.
The wizard quickened his pace, pausing only at the large door in the wall. He studi
ed the runes carved into the doorway. He couldn’t read them, but he knew what they were. The Punjak had used spells to lock their homes and fortresses in the mountains. He knew how to figure out this lock.
Seidrif pulled a green stone from the folds of his robes. He turned to the ground and drew a circle around himself. The bearded wizard sat cross-legged on the floor and placed the green stone upon the ground in front of himself. He closed his eyes and spoke the incantation exactly the way Zek had taught him.
Though he had performed this spell a few times already, it still unnerved him as the ground below him seemed to fall away and wind rushed up around him. He had to consciously remind himself that he was not, in fact, falling, though it very much felt that way. His body was as still upon the ground as it had been before he spoke the spell. The illusion of falling was part of the magical connection, an astral conduit that stretched from his circle to a scrying tool that Zek used.
When Seidrif opened his eyes, he was no longer able to see the cavern or the door. Though his body was still seated there, his consciousness was hovering cross-legged above a small pedestal with a pool of dark liquid held inside. The light was dim, but he could see Zek sleeping upon a large bed a few yards away.
Zek, a tall wizard with brown hair and a mean scowl, must have felt the intrusion, for he rose out of his bed without a word from Seidrif.
“What is it?” Zek asked as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Have you found the child? Is the traitor dead?”
Seidrif shook his head. “I have trailed them to an underground ruin.”
“A Kossin ruin?” Zek asked.
Again, Seidrif shook his head. “No, I believe it is a Punjak stronghold.”
Zek blinked his eyes and shot up from the bed onto his feet. “A what?!” Zek narrowed his dark eyes and approached the scrying pool, coming close enough to look directly into Seidrif’s eyes. “The Punjak were destroyed, along with all of their dwellings.”
“No,” Seidrif replied evenly. “This one still stands. There is a doorway that I cannot open. Can you help me decipher the runes?”
Zek grumbled and wagged a finger in the air as he moved to a nearby table and fumbled with a map. He rolled the parchment and set it aside, then he reached beyond the table to a shelf of books behind it. “Show me the runes,” he said as he pulled a large tome out and set it down where the map had been moments before.
Seidrif nodded and lifted his finger in the air. He drew the characters from memory, careful to mimic not only their shape and design, but also the gentle arc they formed across the doorway.
“Those are the runes, you are sure?” Zek asked.
Seidrif nodded. “They appear exactly as written.”
Zek opened the tome and flipped through the pages. He stroked his chin as he glanced from the glowing phrase in the air to the pages on the book. It only took a few moments before he clapped his hands and turned back to Seidrif with a smile upon his face.
“I have it. Listen carefully.”
Seidrif didn’t need to listen so much as sit quietly and clear his mind. A trail of blue mist grew from Zek’s hand and stretched into the liquid in the scrying pool below Seidrif’s consciousness. Within moments, a phrase of sounds entered Seidrif’s mind, imprinting themselves on his memory. He had no understanding of what they meant, but understanding was not necessary with such a spell. This was simply a key. Had it been more complex magic, like summoning an elemental force, then of course he would need to understand the words as well.
Once the phrase was fully recorded in his mind, the astral connection severed and he was back in the tunnel with the door before him. He picked up his green stone, replacing it back into his pocket and then stood up from the circle and wiped across the symbol he had drawn with his foot.
He moved to stand before the door and spoke the incantation. The runes on the stone began to glow and the portal opened. He walked inside, finding a large, square tunnel of chiseled stone. Round, wooden pillars crowned with a gold plate lined the sides of the tunnel. The floor was smooth, well-worn in the center but still in excellent condition.
Seidrif called upon his white crystal to amplify the light in the tunnel, searching for tripwires or other traps left behind by the men he hunted.
It wasn’t long before he came to another door, this one much smaller. A set of stables was situated to the right. Seidrif looked to the stables and saw his brother’s horse resting peacefully. Seidrif may have been able to use the horse, but somehow the sight of the beast sleeping easily in a stable after serving the men that had killed his brothers churned the rage in his chest. He moved deliberately toward the animal, his fingers on his right hand twitching as his wrist flipped upward and prepared to launch his spell.
The horse woke slowly, its eyes opening and blinking at Seidrif’s bright light. It lurched and got to its feet, shaking dusty hay from one side and snorted.
Seidrif walked up and placed his index finger on the animal’s head, just between the eyes. Within a second’s time, he focused his energy and blasted the horse with a powerful, concentrated blast the penetrated the animal’s skull instantly. The horse slumped to the ground, blood oozing out from its nostrils.
The bearded wizard sneered, his rage abated somewhat for the moment.
“You should have refused to serve them, traitorous creature,” Seidrif announced as if his actions were wholly justified. He then turned his attention to the smaller door. The runes upon it were the same as the first door.
The bearded wizard spoke the same incantation as before, recalling the sounds perfectly. The runes began to glow here as well, and the door opened. Fortunately for Seidrif, he had been standing several feet away from the door when it opened. He heard a sound akin to a snapping twig and then a flurry of pointed, metal objects came swinging out through the doorway. The wizard reflexively created a magical shield in front of himself as the many knives and swords came to an abrupt stop at the end of their arc.
Seidrif exhaled through his teeth. He was growing weary of these traps.
His fingers drew an intricate weave before his face and the magical shield rushed forward, blasting the mess of weapons apart and shattering them back into the doorway and beyond. The pressure from the spell also seemed to trigger something else, for a mass of shields and armor came crashing down just inside the doorway a moment after the spell went through the doorway.
Seidrif huffed angrily and stepped into the doorway, turning his head about and looking for any other traps. Seeing no obvious signs, he ventured into what looked to be a long-deserted marketplace. He gathered his magic, not wanting to waste time checking each nook and cranny of the market hall, and sent a gush of wind through that overturned everything in sight that wasn’t made of stone.
The traitor was not here.
Seidrif walked through the hall, his crystal illuminating the entire space around him.
As he neared a hallway, he could hear a strange, heavy metallic thumping coming from the hallway. He paused for a moment, listening to the rhythm and trying to anticipate how far away the noise was. Each scraping thump sounded as though it was coming closer to him. He inched to the hall and slowly peeked around the corner just enough to see what was coming his way.
A mighty contraption of metal walked upon two legs. Hissing steam spurted out from what looked like knee and shoulder joints as it moved. One arm was fashioned into a crossbow of sorts, while the other appeared to have fingers similar to a human’s. The eyes glowed with an eerie, green light. Seidrif had heard rumors of these ancient machines, but he had never seen one in the flesh before. He pulled back around the corner and took a steadying breath. Seidrif was powerful, but even he would rather not trifle with a Punjak sentinel if he could avoid it.
The problem was, he couldn’t hunt through the ruins without facing off against it.
He stepped out around the corner, arm up and magic ready.
As he moved, a wave of green light washed over him and continued through the hall.
Seidrif noted that it left a strange, orange residue on him that seemed to glow even brighter than his crystal.
The sentinel increased its pace and leveled its crossbow at Seidrif. The wizard fired a blast of air and then ducked behind the corner. A heavy thud landed into the stone corner, and then exploded out the other side, showering sparks and bits of stone around Seidrif as a golden crossbow bolt narrowly missed him and embedded itself in the far wall.
Seidrif’s eyes went wide as he looked up to the hole in the stone corner of the wall. The bolt had traveled through nearly a foot of solid rock. He glanced back to the missile, which had fortunately stuck in the opposite wall and not found his own flesh, and then noticed it began to glow. A strange, high-pitched squeal emitted from the missile. The tone was so loud and piercing that Seidrif had to cover his ears and cower away from it.
A moment later, the missile exploded. Bits of stone flew out in each direction. Seidrif tumbled back down into the market hall, scrambling to get away. The orange hue on his skin and clothes remained. He tried to wipe it off, but nothing worked.
He turned back toward the hallway just as another crossbow bolt exploded through the wall and seemed to be coming straight for him.
Seidrif batted the missile away with a blast of air, sending it out wide a couple of feet to Seidrif’s right. The missile squealed and then exploded in the air. Despite Seidrif’s own magic, the force of the explosion knocked the bearded wizard through the air and into an overturned table. His left ear rang loudly, and warm liquid oozed out from his right ear.
The bearded wizard now understood the purpose of the orange glow. The sentinel was able to track him through the stone walls. He quickly ripped off his over cloak and threw it away. To his pleasure, Seidrif noted that the cloak retained the strange orange glow. He hoped the distraction would be enough to fool the sentinel. He darted out to the far side while sending a gust of air to carry his cloak out and away from himself.
