“Actually, I have been carried to this school since I was purchased,” the barbarian admits with a tired sigh. He grunts as if straining against an unmovable weight. “Crawl into the backpack and see why you will have to go to Rainbow Tower alone. At least you know where I am, so you can lead the others to me.”
Delvin slowly undoes the backpack’s zipper, fearful that the noise can attract the instructor or a curious student. He gets it open enough so that he can wriggle inside, but he freezes when he hears footsteps approaching the closet. The backpack is lifted off the ground, which sends the warrior tumbling toward the bottom. His damaged arm gets caught on a small chisel and breaks off, the limb falling into Robert’s lunch pouch. With a frustrated curse, the person outside jams the backpack on a shelf and returns to class.
Pushing pencils and tools out of his way, Delvin gradually realizes that he is sitting on smooth glass. The surface is flawless and the warrior feels along the edge to discover that it would be taller than him if stood upright. A nagging thought in his mind, he rolls off the box and hunts for a patch that he can undo for some light. Delvin does his best to cause as little damage as possible to the dwarf’s backpack, choosing a spot that is high enough to prevent things from easily falling out later. The feeble beams fall on Timoran’s face, the barbarian encased in the seamless container. The one-armed figurine crawls around to see if he can open the box, but the only thing he finds is a Dwarven glyph at the top.
“Robert Blackore likes collecting toys and keeping them pristine,” Timoran explains, wishing he could turn his head to face Delvin. He manages a smile of thanks when his friend steps into view and sits on the box. “He is a good person, but has a habit of jumping to a conclusion and never letting go. I made the mistake of talking to him, but he did not believe my story. He thought I was a special model, so he put me in this magic container. Only he can open this box and he has yet to do so, which is why I am stuck until you bring help.”
“I’m sure the two of us can get you out,” Delvin argues before sliding off the glass. He grabs a small hammer and hits the box, but his solitary arm is unable to strike with any force. “You seem oddly nonchalant about this. Aren’t you worried that you won’t get back into your body and be trapped as a toy forever?”
“Of course I am worried, my friend, but perhaps it is my punishment,” the barbarian claims as he makes another attempt at flexing his muscles against the hardened gel that surrounds him. The other champion takes another swing at the box, aiming specifically for the top of Timoran’s head. “I sense you are trying to be humorous and friendly. Please try to retain that mood as I admit that I lied about the Compass Key. It reacted to me in Bor’daruk and I said nothing. If I had been honest then we would not be in this situation. You and the others have my deepest apologies.”
“Keep talking because you forgot to explain yourself,” the other warrior says as he tosses the hammer away and goes back to sitting on the box. “To be fair, this situation was brewing for a while and Yola Biggs was out to cause trouble. I’m not sure if you being honest would have made this better or worse. From what Gabriel said to Nyx, there wouldn’t be enough time to uncover the next temple before the curse shattered. After all, those things haven’t been the easiest to find or get into.”
Timoran’s body twitches and a look of anguish is in his blue, fake eyes. “It is named Aintaranurh and it is a holy place to the Snow Tiger Tribe. Before a new king can take the crown, he must survive the challenges of the underground temple. It is a day’s journey from Stonehelm and sits within the lower mountains. It is not difficult to find the entrance since my people have markers along the path. I do not even think the Compass Key would be needed for the front door since it is always open.”
“Now I’m really confused on why you didn’t say anything,” the brown-haired warrior admits, trapped between being angry and concerned. “Why are you hesitant to return to Stonehelm? I’ve never seen you scared of anything besides magic, but this feels different. It’s a conscious, focused fear instead of something primal.”
“All I can say is that my return will not be met with open arms and it would be impossible to avoid my tribesmen,” the barbarian says as he clenches his fists. He considers trying to see if his rage can help him break free, but forgets the idea when he realizes that they would still be trapped in a classroom full of casters. “I promise that I will use the Compass Key and lead us to Stonehelm once we are revived. Facing my past is the least I can do after lying to those who have trusted me with their lives. Perhaps it is best for me to do this and remove the weight on my soul in order to continue on the path of a champion. After all, leaving our past to fester might bring trouble at the worst possible moment.”
“Yeah . . . I agree.”
The sound of students entering the closet forces the champions to remain quiet. They can hear the opening of bags, which is broken by a scream that Delvin immediately recognizes after hearing it for the last few days. Peeking out of a small hole, he sees Jenny hurl her satchel to the floor and runs her hands through her hair. Shoving a few classmates out of her way, the girl tears into the bags that are nearest to hers in search of the missing figurine. Delvin presses against the glass box as the girl’s furious gaze falls on the backpack. He has no time to hide when everything is poured out and he bounces off her foot. Jenny takes him and Timoran, her grip nearly crushing the brown-haired warrior’s body. Enraged beyond rational thought, she storms out of the closet and hurls the enchanted box at the back of Robert’s head. The dwarf cries out in pain and topples out of his chair, his first instinct to scramble after his precious toy instead of checking his injury.
“How dare you take my summoning focus!” Jenny screams at her fallen classmate. She follows the retreating dwarf, occasionally stomping at the toes of his thin boots. “This was in your bag and now it’s broken. I can’t use it, which means I won’t get a good grade. I demand that I take the test tomorrow because this cheater sabotaged me!”
“Can anyone else confirm Ms. Yirk’s accusation?” their teacher says before noticing that all of the students in the back emphatically nod their heads. With the flick of a wrist, the woman materializes a scroll and makes a note of the schedule change. “Very well. You will get a day’s reprieve, Ms. Yirk. Do you have an explanation for her belongings being in your bag, Mr. Blackore?”
“I don’t know how it got there,” Robert answers while remaining on the ground. He curls tighter around Timoran when Jenny lifts her foot, the girl stopping when their teacher clears her throat. “Maybe somebody went into your satchel and broke it. Then they put it in my backpack to avoid blame. It happened last month when Aeriel snapped your lucky pencil.”
“You little traitor!” the elf shouts from the back of the room.
“I can fix the toy during lunch if you’ll let me,” the dwarf offers as he gets to his feet. The look on his classmate’s face causes him to back away until he is against the far wall. “I have my tools, so I can put his arm back on.”
“Like I’ll let you make it worse.”
“You can watch me fix Delvin.”
The blonde girl laughs and slams the figurine on the table, cracking the torso. “Now I understand what this is all about. You want to spend lunch with me. Break my focus item, make sure I find it, and get to be seen with me. Kids would be talking about it for weeks. Well I won’t give you that prize. This thing is nothing more than garbage now, so I no longer have a use for it.”
Gesturing a quick spell, Jenny blindly hurls Delvin at an open window. The one-armed figurine spins awkwardly, but a strong breeze directs him out of the building. He is dropped into the dragon hedge where he tumbles through the leaves and branches. With a sickening crack, the warrior lands on a rough stone hidden beneath the plant. All he can do is stare at his mangled legs and curse his misfortune until his consciousness slips into darkness.
*****
A soothing voice whispers to Delvin as his psyche drifts within a strange abyss. His
body is of flesh again, but he is still missing an arm and both legs. There is a sense of calm flowing through his veins, which prevents him from panicking or even concentrating on the injuries for more than a few seconds at a time. All he knows is that everything will be fixed soon and he need only wait. His worries pushed away, Delvin’s eyes close and he imagines a river carrying him through a dense forest. Deer and squirrels appear among the trees, none of them moving to drink or run away. They are statue-like in the way they stand and only their yellow eyes shift to watch him float along the water. He tries to think about the creatures, but the voice grows louder and plunges him deeper into a trance. Unable to fight the spell, the warrior relaxes and waves his remaining arm to spin his body.
The rapids strike without warning and he is battered against slick rocks that do not feel like normal stone. Their glossy surface is too slippery to grab, so Delvin is left at the mercy of the river. He kicks away from a looming crag before he realizes that his legs have returned and are stronger than ever. Pushing off the dangerous obstacles, he uses his recovered limbs to move through the water and gradually make his way to the shore. The sound of a roaring waterfall rises from the distance, dying down when Delvin grabs a tree branch with his regenerated arm. Dragging himself out of the river, he collapses on the thick grass and stares at a sunless sky of icy blue. Holding up his hands, he is horrified to see that they are transforming from flesh into waterstone.
“I wonder what that all meant,” Delvin mutters as he wakes up. He is pleasantly surprised to find that he is on a desk instead of broken on the ground. “Thank you to whoever put my limbs back on. Sorry I can’t do much to repay you.”
Robert stares at the talking figurine and slowly puts his tools down. He watches Delvin stand and stretch, the small warrior testing his arm and legs. Something about the way the toy moves reminds him of how he and his classmates warm up before gym. He is surprised at the fluidity of the waterstone body’s movements since there are no muscles within the figurine and the joints are naturally stiff. The dwarf takes Timoran out of his backpack and places the contained barbarian on the desk. With a whispered spell, he presses his thumb to the glyph and the front pane of glass clicks open. Robert gently takes his precious toy out of the box and places him next to Delvin who is cautiously watching the dwarf.
“Thank you for my freedom,” Timoran says, rubbing his arms as if they are stiff.
“So do you two react to each other?” the young man asks while packing up his tools. Both of the figurines scratch their heads and shrug. “I mean, are you designed to move when you come within a certain distance of each other? Timoran only talked and made realistic facial expressions when I first got him, but now he can walk and stretch too. Will getting the entire set do something special like make you bigger or earn me a one of a kind toy?”
“I do not understand what you are asking,” the barbarian replies, returning to the box for his great axe. He tries to attach the useless weapon, but needs Delvin’s help in putting two small nubs into the holes in his back. “I did not move when we first met because you were holding me too tightly. At the time, I was unsure if I had my natural strength and discovering the answer at the expense of a child’s hand is not my way.”
“Interesting that you’re designed to claim you’re the real champions,” Robert says in bristling wonder. His eyes turn gold and he is about to examine Delvin when a blinding flash of light erupts from the figurine. “Ow! There must be a protection spell on you to prevent someone from deciphering the magic. I guess the creators don’t want any of their ideas to be stolen, which I understand. If you’re listening through these toys then I’m sorry for trying to use magic sight on them.”
“I see what you were talking about earlier,” Delvin mumbles to Timoran. With a stomp of his foot, the warrior flips a pencil into the air and catches it over his head. “As you can see, we’re autonomous and there’s no magic behind our animation. Wait! I mean, there is magic involved, but one of our enemies trapped us in these bodies. We’re not special toys like you seem to think we are. My friend and I are the real Timoran Wrath and Delvin Cunningham who were trapped in these figurines. Luke Callindor, Fizzle, and Sari are out there somewhere too.”
“But your energy was blinding like it was trying to hurt me.”
The warrior laughs nervously and spins the pencil like a quarterstaff. “Apparently, I have a potent aura that enjoys catching casters off guard. Nyx was blind for a few hours after she examined me and she’s a lot stronger than you. If anything that should prove that we’re telling the truth. Putting that much power into a simple toy is ridiculous and probably a waste of energy that could be used on other things. Especially doing it to a simple warrior that people seem to think very little of.”
Robert wipes the sweat from his bald head and goes to put his backpack in the closet. He takes his time returning, a pensive expression on his youthful face. With the silence lingering, the sounds of students enjoying the warm weather during their lunchtime comes through the windows. A few of the other kids run by and give a passing glance at the figure who is still inside the classroom. The dwarf walks back to his desk and quietly eats his lunch, the two figurines standing awkwardly before him.
“I don’t think the real Delvin would be so moody,” Robert says while he searches the cloth bag for a missing pickle. The narrow spear is devoured in a second, the juice running down his stubbled chin. “I know people think he’s the least interesting champion, but maybe they’re just impatient. Though I do see where people get the idea that he’s fodder. Delvin is a warrior like the ones you hear about in all of the stories and he lacks anything truly unique like his friends. Still he could be like me and have a great adventure in the future.”
“Robert has a point, my friend,” Timoran states, slapping the other warrior’s shoulder. The sound of the dwarf choking on his sandwich causes the barbarian to jump off the desk. He clambers up the chair and strikes the boy’s back with his fists, helping him dislodge the chunk of food. “You have to be more careful, young man. It is fortunate that I still have a fraction of my strength. Otherwise, I would not have been able to help.”
“You said my name,” the student gasps, grabbing the barbarian and staring at him. “Only intricate golems can learn names and repeat them. That’s powerful magic and it wouldn’t make any sense to use it for toys. Maybe you two are telling me the truth.”
“Oh for the love of Ram and Ehre!” Delvin exclaims as he tosses the pencil aside. “All we had to do was say your name? Everything else was easily dismissed. Why didn’t you do that earlier, Timoran?”
The barbarian’s mouth opens and closes in stunned confusion before he blurts out, “It never crossed my mind.”
“Is there anything you can tell me that only the real champions would know?” Robert excitedly asks before frowning. He waves his hands to stop the toys from answering. “Never mind because I wouldn’t know something like that. I don’t know what to do here because this could be a trick. I’ve heard stories the last few days about Sari dolls walking around without owners, which is why I thought you were part of a contest. If I let you go and you’re lying then I’ll miss out of the fun.”
“If you keep us and we are telling the truth then you endanger the world,” Timoran says with his arms crossed. The proud barbarian pats the dwarf on the shoulder before climbing back to the desk. “Think about it this way. A contest would have us act like our real selves. Delvin and I are known for being honorable and honest. It would not make much sense to create toys that act like the real champions, but remove those core virtues. So it is more likely that we are telling you the truth.”
A rumbling peal erupts from the bells at the top of the academy towers and the floating ones in the hallway, signaling that lunchtime has ended. Robert grabs the champions and hurries to his backpack while the students stampede into the school. He puts Timoran back in the glass case before searching the closet for a place to hide Delvin. Afraid that his teacher or a c
lassmate might go into anything he chooses, the dwarf tucks his shirt into his pants and drops the toy down his back. He shifts Delvin to his side to hide the odd lump and catches his breath when he hears people walking through the door.
“I promise to let you two out on my way home,” Robert whispers while pretending to look through the lost and find box. He tucks a few collectable pins into his pocket, curious if he already has them at home. “There’s no way you would be able to sneak out of the school without being found. Too many janitors cleaning the grounds and patrolling the hallways due to a few incidents. Don’t say anything or move, Delvin, because Jenny will take you back if she finds you in one piece.”
“My lips are sealed,” the warrior whispers, moving so his face is pressed against the shirt instead of the pale dwarf. “Thanks for your help.”
Robert nervously pats the side of his shirt and leaves the closet before his classmates settle down. He yawns and burps to hide a startled yelp when he finds Jenny and Amelia standing a few feet away. The girls scowl at him and move to the other side of the room, neither giving him a second look. With his heart beating like a drum, the young apprentice takes his seat and tries to forget that he might have a possessed toy hidden under his shirt.
*****
At the end of the school day, Robert pretends to take some final notes as his classmates rush for their bags. He smiles at the smoking head of Amelia, the elf’s summoned beast having set her hair on fire. Several students help the instructor clean the room in a blatant attempt to earn a retest tomorrow since their spells failed miserably. The dwarf is tempted to join them since he conjured a large catfish that flopped around the floor before devouring a summoned fox. Instead of pushing for another chance, he takes comfort in the fact that a creature did appear and he will still get a passing grade. Robert is pretty sure he cannot do any better with less than a day to practice and there are still two more summoning tests in the school year. As far as the young caster is concerned, he has plenty of time to improve his skills and he has more important things to do today.
The Merchant of Nevra Coil (Legends of Windemere Book 8) Page 28
