by Tom Lloyd
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Dismissed.’
Left alone she turned to the fires of the city, a more satisfactory sight in the dull afternoon light. Somewhere beneath all that was a prize the likes of which no living Knight-Charnel had ever secured. She had not long since visited the Charnel Vault of Highkeep sanctuary. The air was different there, the gods-touched members of the Order more animated than she had ever seen before – and Faril had been a member of the Key-Circle of the Vaults, highest council of the Knights-Charnel, for more than a decade.
If this is a cache as the writings say, it might change everything. It might change the face of the world for ever. We cannot fail.
‘Everyone into the circle,’ Toil said, having stepped gingerly over the threshold. ‘Sitain, here at the front. Keep your eyes on the doors, the rest of you too, just in case we get a wink or something. Lastani, Atieno – be ready to do whatever you can in case this is a trap, okay?’
With a slightly comedic amount of huddling, the group all stepped inside the circle and kept close to each other. Once she’d confirmed they were all inside, Toil turned to Sitain.
‘Anything?’
‘Not that I saw.’
‘Damn. Your eyes are probably most like a Duegar’s.’
‘So our conclusion is that there’s nothing to see,’ Lastani said. ‘Pick a number, Toil.’
‘Twenty-two, sixteen, thirty-nine, and the two behind us. What was the first room’s? Paranil, tell me you wrote them down.’
‘Of course. A one above where we entered, as there is a two above this door. Our choices in the first room were the four on our left as we entered, which was the one we took, a seven ahead and twelve down.’
Toil shook her head. ‘Anyone seeing anything like a pattern?’
‘Why did you pick four, just out of interest?’
‘We’re in a cube and a square has four sides, I couldn’t think of much else that seemed to fit in any way and we don’t have the luxury of thinking for days. I did wonder about the gods, though; how scholars used to say that our gods were once Duegar, that they became gods and at first there were only four of them.’
‘Banesh was said to have come later, it’s true, though we don’t know when in their history the labyrinth was built,’ Lastani said. ‘If the Militant Orders had built this, you’d probably have been right, but I don’t think the logic extends.’
‘Yeah, I know, it was mostly the square thing because that’s all I had.’
‘Glad we’re doing this all scientific-like,’ Lynx muttered.
‘Welcome to the exciting life of the relic hunter, my friend,’ Toil replied. ‘Now enough talk. We’ve got a choice to make.’
‘Perhaps the numbers don’t matter, perhaps it’s simply direction,’ Lastani said after a short while.
‘But we don’t know what direction we need to go in. There’s nothing I remember from anywhere that would suggest a certain path, not even the patterns on the Fountain.’
Lastani shook her head. ‘Nor I,’ she admitted. ‘But we need to pick one.’
‘Fine. Twenty-two,’ Toil decided. ‘There are worse things than moving forward when you don’t know what to do.’
‘We’re all gonna die,’ moaned someone from the back.
‘Shut it, all of you. Lastani, you ready?’
The young woman nodded. ‘Everyone move away from me, it’s about to get very cold in here.’
They all edged away as far as they could as Lastani held her palms out, like she was pushing her way through the circle. The temperature dropped almost immediately, the Duegar lamplight flaring white and blue on a bubble of cold magic surrounding her. Lastani stepped forward and the room exploded around her. Lynx howled and threw his hands up to cover his eyes from the blinding flash of orange light.
A wall of fire erupted around them, pouring out from the glyphs in one expanding pulse of power. It lasted only a moment but in the next there was a shriek from someone behind him. Lynx blinked and turned, seeing only a blur of movement at first until he made out the flailing shape ahead.
‘Hold still!’ shouted someone.
‘Fuck – I’m on fire!’ the flailing figure shrieked back. It was Haphori, a hirsute man from somewhere so far away even Safir just described it as ‘bloody miles east’. He’d lived most of his life on the shore of Whitesea Sound, however, so he swore like a local.
Brols pounced on the man, using his body to smother any flames while Haphori howled in renewed pain at the man now lying on his burned arm.
‘Sitain,’ Teshen snapped, rubbing his head and wincing, ‘shut him up or I will.’
The young mage picked her way past the rest and reached out to Haphori as he kicked Brols off him. The darker man saw Sitain advancing and wriggled backwards but was pinned down by his comrades long enough for her to grab his hand and dull the pain to a point where he stopped screaming.
Lastani, in the meantime, had walked towards the next door and pressed her hand against the gift disc. With her magic up as a barrier the flames hadn’t harmed her and she looked unruffled by the torrent of flame. With a second, smaller, burst of magic she triggered the door – again throwing up a shield of magic, but all that happened was the door silently opening into the next room.
Once Haphori’s arm was wrapped, Toil led the company through into the next room and ordered the door closed behind them again. This one was empty but for the doorways ahead, on the right-hand wall and in the floor, so she told the company to pause and eat while the scholarly members thought about the new set of numbers. The entrance had a 3 above it this time, the exits displaying 55 ahead, 42 down and 33 right.
‘Thirty-three comes up again. There must be a message in that.’
Paranil nodded as he added the new set to his record. ‘I believe so, though the pattern still eludes me. Perhaps the repetition is the key or a sign that one awaits us.’
‘How about we look at it a different way?’ Toil said, feeling suddenly very tired. She dug a small honey-cake out of her pack, jamming the sweet treat into her mouth before continuing in a slightly muffled manner. ‘If we made a mistake in the first room, getting that fire-trap, that means we’re should’ve taken what?’
‘Ah, twelve or seven.’
‘Right. Then twenty-two gets us to an empty room. What’s the link?’
No one answered and Toil felt her head sink. She was well used to taking risks in a city-ruin, but she had instinct to rely on there. Sometimes a jump wasn’t worth taking, sometimes her gut told her to just walk away and she’d learned to listen to it. Right now it was grumbling uneasily and not out of hunger. There was something amiss, something she’d not noticed perhaps.
Or maybe I’m just feeling like I’ve used up enough luck for the time being.
‘Come on, anyone?’
Paranil looked around at the others before replying for them. ‘We need another room.’
Toil sighed and licked the last of the honeyed crumbs from her fingers. ‘One more door, go on then. Your turn, Sitain.’
Chapter 27
‘Two dead? Deepest black, we’re only just started down here!’
Chotel rubbed at the icer burn on his cheek and hissed. ‘Two,’ he repeated before pointing to a dragoon being helped to the far wall by one of his comrades. ‘Another who’s not gonna last the day.’
‘And this’ll be the easy bit,’ Bade added. At least none of my crew was killed. It might teach the dragoons to step a bit more carefully.
‘Let’s just hope this door is the right one,’ Kastelian said, joining them. ‘We don’t need many more traps.’
‘Hopper’s just warming us up. Teaching us the rules of his game. A few more chambers in and mistakes’ll get properly punished, I reckon.’
Kastelian looked back across the room they’d just crossed. There were bulbous studs jutting from the side walls and ceiling, while a chaotic spread of tiles occupied a ten-yard stretch of the chamber up to the door on the right-hand wall. Each ti
le had the glyph for ‘ice’ carved into it and putting the slightest pressure on any part activated a burst of ice magic from one of the studs. The bursts hadn’t had the power of a properly charged ice-bolt, but they were lethal enough. Two bodies on the floor attested to that, and several others carried injuries from glancing blows.
Bade and his crew had moved carefully, ahead of the dragoons, one by one and with few mistakes. But when a mistake was made, it was hard not to fall – hard not to trip others and trigger a barrage. One of the dead had seven or eight wounds in him, his chest torn apart and half-frozen by the ice magic. His body had proved a useful waypoint for the rest, however, covering several glyphs as it did.
‘Is your man going ta make it?’ Bade asked Kastelian.
‘Do I look like a doctor to you?’
Bade lowered his voice. ‘He can’t hold us up an’ he can’t be carried for long.’
‘I’m aware.’
‘Might be you need to step in then, they won’t like me doing it.’
Kastelian’s face hardened. ‘Don’t tell me my job, Bade, I’m the ranking officer here, remember? You do what you’re paid to do and leave command decisions to me, understand?’
He received a lop-sided smirk. ‘Oh aye, sure. Whatever you say, sir. I’ll get back to work. Just tell me which door you want me to open, sir.’
‘Don’t give me the dumb soldier routine,’ Kastelian snapped, ‘you’ve known me too long for that.’
‘Thought I did, but now you’re pulling rank?’
‘Oh don’t start getting precious on me. You’re giving me advice about my command and you complain I remind you about rank?’
Chotel stepped between the two of them. ‘The pair of you, shut it,’ he growled, using his greater size to present a physical barrier. ‘Cock-measuring is over for the day – ain’t neither of you going to win on that front anyway.’
Bade forced a laugh. ‘Don’t gimme that shit, I’ve seen you naked more often than’s good for my stomach. You ain’t winning nothing.’
‘Aye, but Torril’s wife has something of the poet about her on the subject o’ her man’s tackle. Don’t give that horny ferret any excuse to pull it out and show the ladies here again. I dunno what Sonna would do but Gull gets an appraising look that worries me.’
‘He’s got a point,’ Bade conceded. ‘Gull does go all thoughtful and intense at the sight.’
‘Damn right I have, now kiss and make up the pair o’ you.’
‘Don’t be disgusting,’ Kastelian said primly, just the hint of a smile on his face.
‘Oh go on, pucker up!’ Bade pleaded.
‘Get the right door and I’ll think about it,’ he replied and turned away to avoid laughing in the presence of his dead troops.
‘Nothing like a bit of motivation, eh?’ Bade rubbed his hands together. ‘So what are our options?’
‘Down is marked twenty-five, twelve there, nine ahead,’ Ulestim said. ‘Didn’t we have a twenty-five already?’
‘Aye, first room. Torril?’
‘What?’
‘You write all the numbers down so far?’
‘Did you ask me to?’
‘Oh for buggery’s sake. Well, I’m asking now.’
Torril bobbed his head. ‘Writing ’em down now, boss. I can remember the rest anyway.’
‘What’s it say on this side of the one we came through?’
Ulestim gave a grunt. ‘That’s worried me a shade, it’s a five.’
‘Why does that worry you?’
‘There was no four. The room before this one had a three on the inside.’
‘Think we missed something?’
‘I think we might have taken a wrong turn.’
Bade shook his head. ‘Course we did. Didn’t the ice magic punching through flesh give you a hint on that front?’
‘Certainly, I’m just concerned as to whether the missed four is significant in any other way.’
‘Like what?’
‘I’ve, ah, yet to quite fathom that part of the problem.’
Bade exchanged a look with Chotel. ‘Well, you inform us when you’ve got around to it. In the meantime, we’re taking twenty-five.’
‘Any reason?’
‘We’ve seen it before, mebbe it’s Hopper’s lucky number.’
‘Really?’
‘Don’t be a shit-brained fool, course not. We came in at the door marked five an’ twenty-five is five fives, no? That’s a good enough reason for me.’
‘You think the key is it’s a multiple?’ Ulestim said, eyes widening as though on the point of revelation.
‘I think it’s an idea when I’ve got few others from you lot.’ He pointed to the door and raised his voice. ‘Hoy, Spade, number twenty-five if you’d be so good.’
‘Of course! I’ve been a fool!’
Toil stopped her investigation of the empty room and stalked over to where Paranil was waving his notes in Lastani’s face.
‘You’re going to have to narrow it down for me there,’ Toil said.
‘The number code!’
‘What? You’ve cracked it? How?’
‘They all relate to the door you entered through, or rather the number above the inside of it. They’re multiples – or rather the ones that matter are.’
‘Wait, no, that doesn’t make sense.’ Toil grabbed his paper off him and studied the numbers a moment. ‘There,’ she said, pointing at the second set. ‘We had a two on the inside of that first door we took and the options were twenty-two or sixteen, both multiples.’
Paranil smirked. ‘The number informs the choice, you still need to recognise the right one. You took the right one this time round by the way, clever girl.’
‘Enough of the patronising; short version?’
‘Divide both of those by two. The choice you ended up with was between eleven and eight, since there was an odd number on the floor. In the first room the numbers get divided by one and don’t change; we chose four and it was wrong, so either seven or twelve was correct. In the third room, after factoring in the three, you had a choice between eleven again and, well, nothing – the others don’t divide by three.’
‘Screaming firedrakes! A shorter version please?’
‘Right, yes. Sorry. The important numbers are one, eleven, two, seven, three and eleven. They’re all primes. I just didn’t spot it until we came back to a “three” room, despite having no trap and therefore hadn’t chosen wrongly.’
‘So here, we …’ Toil looked up. ‘Which one? Fifty-seven?’
He nodded. ‘Divided by three, becomes nineteen, yet another prime. It could be a coincidence, but it isn’t – the deviser of this labyrinth was a lover of mathematics.’
‘Ready to stake your life on that?’
‘I …’
Toil raised an eyebrow. ‘Ready to stake my life on it?’
‘Oh, without a doubt.’
‘You’re lucky I enjoy this so much then.’
‘Enjoy?’ remarked Lynx from somewhere behind them. ‘How can you enjoy all this?’
She turned. ‘’Cos I’m a gentle spirit whose nature is to be brimming with inquisitive joy, can’t you tell?’
‘And there was me thinking you’re a madwoman who likes the smell of impending death on the wind.’
Toil snorted. ‘I think we’ve both been around enough impending death to know the smell isn’t a pretty one. But this is what I do, what I’m good at – and right here we’ve the ultimate challenge for a relic hunter. If Bade gets the prize ahead of me, maybe I’ll give it all up and raise a brood of squealing babies – but until then I’m going to enjoy doing what I do.’
Lynx didn’t say anything and Toil realised a few of the other mercenaries, the male ones at least, were looking at her strangely. She looked around, puzzled, as a hush descended.
‘What happened?’
‘Don’t mind them,’ Estal called, ‘you just said the magic word, “babies”.’
‘Magic? Why?’
&n
bsp; ‘Half are now stricken with terror at the word, the other half are picturing you makin’ ’em.’
Toil pulled her mage-pistol. ‘And which one of ’em is going to make a crass comment about it? Deern? Safir?’
No one spoke and slowly the male mercenaries averted their gaze.
‘Damn right. Now let’s get back to work. Lastani, door fifty-seven if you please.’
The young mage jumped to her task and opened the door, Sitain again peering through first before reporting that it looked empty. As Paranil gave a squeak of triumph, Toil led the mercenaries through and into another stone chamber, almost identical to the one before.
‘Paranil, numbers.’
She checked behind her and saw there was a 1 inscribed above the door, almost like the labyrinth designer was confirming their theory. Of the other four exits, there was only one prime and it led down so they wasted no time in following. Again the room was empty and Toil felt a jolt of hope. Finally they were making some quicker progress. She just had to hope Bade had found an obstacle to slow himself up.
‘Numbers,’ Toil called. ‘Which way now?’
Paranil gave a cough. ‘Ah, yes.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Ahem – nothing, per se. There’s a three above our entrance – as for the rest. Five hundred and sixty-one, four hundred and seventeen, two hundred and seventy-three. This may take some time.’
‘Bugger.’
Lynx watched Toil’s cohort at its sums while he tried to ignore the growl at the back of his mind. This room, like all the others, was too much like a cell for his liking. A series of windowless cells that might contain something lethal behind every door.
And still they don’t seem too worried. I might have my issues with the dark, but none of that lot act as worried as I’d expect – as I’d hope from people leading us through a maze of magic traps. Toil might be the only one actually enjoying herself, but even that girl, Lastani, seems more interested in the academic challenge.
He turned to the others. Kas was putting a brave face on it and Teshen was a closed book to the world around him, but of the others Lynx couldn’t see one who seemed at ease with what was going on. The Monarch’s lamp casting white light around the room improved matters, but still the enclosed spaces were grating on their nerves.
