by G. R. Cooper
Nothing came to him.
He shook his head, “If the answer isn’t at the beginning, it must be at the end, right?” he convinced himself as he made his way back through the hallway, back into the stairs. He had taken one step down when he was again clutched by terror.
Thump and moan.
Steeling himself, he forced his way through the expanding horror that his brain was envisioning, toward the bottom of the stairs. Just before reaching the midway point, he stopped, listened. When, after a moment, he could hear nothing but the pounding of blood rushing through his head, he continued to the bottom and entered the chamber.
The chamber with the pedestal.
Which was empty.
Wulfgar stood still for a moment. He thought. He hadn’t checked the body on the pedestal before. Maybe it wasn’t a corpse.
“Maybe it was just some sleeping naked guy,” he muttered. “Maybe it was just some sleeping naked guy who woke up and decided to go about whatever business he had in this fucking madhouse!”
He stifled himself, forced himself to breath. He forced himself to think about the problem at hand and possible solutions. He forced his hands into either armpit in a futile attempt to stop them from shaking.
“Think,” he whispered, “think!” He looked to the far wall and to either side. If the answer wasn’t where he had been, it was likely through one of those doors.
“But which one?”
Thump and moan.
“Oh, fuck you!” he said over his shoulder, and began walking toward the door on the left hand wall. He pulled his hands out from underneath his arms and pulled his knife from its scabbard as a rising tide of anger swelled in him.
“Fuck you,” he repeated, louder this time as he reached the door. He straightened and kicked, forcing the door to slam open and then bulled his way into the chamber, ready - hoping - for something to stab. The pent-up fear was rapidly converting itself into overwhelming rage.
He snarled as he took in the room - it was a mirror of the one he had just left. Square, three doors and one stairway - to his left - all surrounding a stone pedestal in the center.
A pedestal that held what looked like a corpse.
Wulfgar strode forcefully to the plinth, and looked down at the body. It was the man, the tanned and bearded man that he had seen before. Only he wasn’t on the same pedestal. Wulfgar’s eyes scrunched in confusion as he tried to work out what happened, when he was shocked back into the present by a wave of motion to his left.
Snorri and Lauren, trailed by the rest of the group, bounded into the room, weapons drawn and ready for action. They spread into the room, facing outward in a half-circle, prepared to receive hell from any direction. Wulfgar had to admit to himself that it was an impressive entrance.
They looked to Wulfgar, who motioned placatingly with his left hand as he sheathed his sword with his right.
“It’s OK,” he began, then looked back over his shoulder at the open doorway, “that was just me, making an entrance.”
The rest of the group calmed and Snorri looked at Wulfgar.
“I don’t think,” Snorri said slowly, as though explaining a difficult notion to a slow child, “that you’re quite grasping the concept behind the idea of stealth.”
Lauren smiled then piled on, “It does require, I would think, some small element of quiet.”
Thump and moan.
“That!” said Wulfgar excitedly, “that’s what’s been fucking with us.” He looked behind him into the other room and pointed, “There is another room, just like this one through there, and another stairway just like that one,” he pointed to the entry that the group had just run down, “that leads up into a three room suite just damn like the one we cleared out. Just like the one you guys just left.”
He paused, thinking.
“I think that little bang and groan coincide with some sort of shuffling of the rooms, and I’ll bet you my last penny that that door,” he pointed to the door on the opposite side of the room to the one he’d just burst through, “has another damn room just like this one, with another damn staircase that goes up to another damn suite.”
“Like Lauren said,” he continued, “something is screwing with us. And that thing is doing whatever it can to make sure we’re confused and vulnerable before it kicks the living shit out of us.”
“We should probably,” said Wulfgar after allowing the rest of the group to come to terms with what he’d said - with what their situation was, “stick together from now on. Nobody should be out of sight of at least one other person in the group, and, ideally, we’ll all stick together.”
The rest of them nodded.
“First thing, I want to check out my theory,” he pointed to Lauren, “Go stand in that doorway,” he pointed then to the door he’d kicked in, “and I’m going to go to that one,” he pointed to the door on the opposite side. When they were both in place, he opened the door. He saw another chamber, just like the one he had been in. He made sure that there was no corpse on the pedestal, and that the door on the opposite side through the room was closed, then looked back to Lauren.
“See anything?” he whispered loudly to her.
Lauren shook her head.
Wulfgar looked to Snorri, “Come take my place here, I’m going to go in through this room and try the door on the other side.” He waited for the big man to join him, then Wulfgar moved into the room, looking warily up the empty staircase as he passed it, and then reached the far door. He pushed down the latch and then opened the door, quietly and slowly.
He looked into the room. Another like the others. An empty pedestal, but the door on the other side of the room was already opened. A figure in plate armor stood in the portal.
Lauren waved happily to him.
He smiled, then turned back and rejoined Snorri in the middle room.
“That’s what I thought,” he sighed in relief as the group joined around him, “there are three identical rooms, all leading up to seemingly identical homes, and they seem to shuffle randomly at intervals.”
“Why?” asked Snorri.
Wulfgar shrugged, “Hell if I know,” he laughed a little, “I didn’t build the damn thing.” He thought for a moment, “Why would the Baen Si want to put a confusing basement in her home? Is she worried about people coming in and finding her wine cellar?”
“Maybe,” countered Lauren, “It’s not to keep anyone from going from her rooms into her basement, maybe it’s to keep anything in her basement from finding their way into her rooms.”
They all stopped talking and looked to the door on the far wall. The only doors left for them to explore.
“Was there any sign of Rydra?” asked Tane softly.
Wulfgar just shook his head.
“Before we do anything else,” said Wulfgar, “we need to address the elephant in the room.”
“You mean the naked elephant?” laughed Snorri, nodding toward the pedestal.
Wulfgar smiled. He moved to the center of the room and the rest of the group crowded around the man.
“Is he dead?” asked Lauren.
Wulfgar shrugged, then reached out to touch the man’s shoulder, “Still warm,” he leaned in toward the reclined chest, “Can’t see any movement. Can’t tell if he’s breathing.”
Bael and Tane flit up onto the man’s chest. They didn’t seem to so much jump as just levitate up from the floor onto the man. Bael bent and studied the man’s face.
“I don’t think,” he began, “that it’s dead, but I don’t think it’s just asleep.”
To answer, Tane pulled his sword and rammed it an inch deep into the man’s shoulder. He didn’t react.
“It’s not just asleep,” confirmed Tane, cleaning then sheathing his blade.
“Remind me never to ask you for a wakeup call,” muttered Snorri.
The two Aos Si leaned in toward each other and conferred quietly. Wulfgar looked up at Snorri and Lauren, raised his eyebrows. They shrugged in unison. His view was drawn b
ack to the man’s chest as the two faerie sat, cross-legged and facing each other. They put their hands on their knees, palms up; looking like two little yogis about to try to achieve enlightenment.
They began muttering incomprehensible words under their breath, raising in volume as they proceeded. A glow, an aura, of light surrounded the pair, and it began to sparkle, to take the shape of a nebulous, almost electrical, sphere around them.
After a moment, the man coughed, coughed again and turned his head. He slowly opened his eyes, confused and bewildered. He looked around to the rest of the room as the Aos Si removed themselves to the floor. He started to sit up, then groaned and collapsed back onto the stone.
Lauren reached out her hand and gently laid it on the man’s shoulder, “You’re fine,” she said, “You’re safe.” Her touch, even through metal gauntlets, seemed to calm him, to reassure him. “Take your time,” she continued, “there’s no hurry.”
“What’s your name?” asked Wulfgar softly.
“Jame,” the man croaked, putting his hands to his temples, rubbing them, “Jame,” he repeated, “First mate on the Swan out of Edonis.”
“What happened Jame?” asked Wulfgar.
“I don’t rightly know, sir. Truly I don’t. The Swan were making through a calm sea,” he looked up at Wulfgar almost pleadingly, “and a fog grew, out of nothing. No front come through, sir, I swear it. There was no reason to expect it,” he looked around at the group who exchanged glances with each other.
“And then?” continued Wulfgar.
“And then,” the man shuddered, “things. Just things, sir, I can no describe them better,” he covered his eyes, “they just climbed out of the soup and fell on us. Gray, they was. Gray and bloated, like someone found dead in the water what the sharks didn’t get to.”
He looked up at them, “And that was the last I remember,” he looked around, “You have to believe me.”
“We do,” said Wulfgar quietly, “We do.”
“Revenant,” said Snorri. The rest nodded. The man sat up and swung his legs off to the side, covering himself with his hands.
“That stair,” said Lauren, “leads up to a suite of rooms. There’s a sitting room on the far side, with a nice chair and a warm fire. There are cabinets with clothes up there, you should be able to find something to wear. We’ll be along to collect you, to help you back to your ship, before too long.”
The man nodded thanks and dropped off of the pedestal and made his way up the stairs.
After they’d watched him leave, Wulfgar spoke, “Revenant. Why would the revenant bring him back here, back to the home of the Baen Si?”
The others shrugged.
“There’s no reason that I can think of,” Wulfgar continued then looked down at the Aos Si. “Does a leprechaun have any need to work with revenant? Have they ever been known to?”
The faerie shook their heads, “The leprechaun is solitary.”
“Then,” continued Wulfgar, “what does work with revenant?”
Bael and Tane exchanged worried glances, “Only a Lich.”
“That’s,” said Wulfgar softly, “what I was afraid of.”
“So,” concluded Snorri, “no pot of gold?”
“I haven’t heard the groan and grumble of the room shuffle in a while,” said Wulfgar, “It could be that having all of the side doors open prevents it. We should leave them open while,” he nodded toward the door on the far side of the stairway, “we see what’s through there.” He placed the lantern on the still warm pedestal, “I’ll just leave this here to let us know which room had the stairway that we came down.”
“What about the other two doors,” asked Lauren, pointing with both hands toward the rooms on either side, each of which had a closed door that matched the one they were facing.
“Hell if I know,” said Wulfgar, “I guess we’ll just go through this one and if we don’t find anything, keep searching back until we do.”
Lauren nodded, then motioned for Wulfgar to spin around. He did, then felt her push her hand underneath his cloak and reach into the small pack just above the scabbard at the base of his spine. After a minute, she closed the pack and straightened his cape. He turned in time to see her draw a large ‘one’ in chalk on the door in front of them, then trace a large circle around it. She then tossed the chalk onto the pedestal next to the lantern.
“Smart,” said Wulfgar. She smiled up at him.
Snorri and Lauren pulled out their weapons and stood side by side in front of the door. The rest of the group armed themselves and arrayed behind them.
“Remember,” whispered Wulfgar, “if we run into any revenant, do not look them in the eyes. That’s a quick way to wind up on a slab,” he patted the pedestal. The rest of the group nodded.
Lauren reached forward and worked the door latch, then pushed it open a crack. Snorri, to her left, pushed on his side as well and the door swung quietly open, then he, followed closely by Lauren, moved into the room. They stopped a couple of meters within and let the rest of the group form up behind them. Wulfgar was the last through, and he quickly scanned the room, taking it all in.
The space was long and narrow, with man-wide cages indented into the wall down either side, eight in total; four along either wall. Inside of each of the cages was what looked like a human skeleton, crammed into a standing position by the narrowness of their cells, which were barely large enough to contain them. Rusted, wrought iron slabs crossed and stacked to make a doorway for each of the little tombs. In the middle of room was a rounded stone, a ball with an indentation on the top and eight grooves that ran down the sides, meeting at the bottom in a stone base. On the other side of the room was another closed door.
Wulfgar walked down the right side of the room as the group made their way up the center. He looked into each cell as he passed, but saw nothing besides bones.
He reached the far end and was leaning in to listen at the closed door when he heard a shout behind him.
“No! Don’t!”
Wulfgar pulled back from the door and looked it up and down, thinking that he had done something wrong. He turned and looked back to the group.
Snorri had picked up what looked like a brass pot, one spigot and one handle on either side. He had just finished pouring the contents onto the top of the stone ball and a thick, red liquid oozed down the eight grooves.
“Shit,” said Lauren, “circle up!” She started to move back when the streams of liquid met at the base of the object. The rear door, the door back the way they came, slammed shut. On instinct, Wulfgar tried the door in front of him. The handle wouldn’t move.
A rustling began from each of the small cells that lined the room, and the scream of metal on metal broke the stillness as each of the jail cell doors began to creak open.
“Not good,” muttered Wulfgar as he leaped toward the nearest cell, the furthest down the right hand side of the wall. He leaned in, putting his entire weight behind his left arm as he gripped the metal bars, pushing against the outward thrust of the door. His feet slid, backward, against the stone floor as the door pushed him on its unimpeded course.
“Not good,” he repeated as he saw that all eight doors were opening in unison. He let go of the door and instead thrust his blade through the bars at the reanimating skeleton inside.
A miss! He cursed under his breath as he withdrew the blade. A bony hand thrust through the cell bars as its owner moved around the edge into the open room. Wulfgar struck down at the arm, hoping to use the leverage of the metal bars against the skeleton.
“4 points of damage!”
The hand, chopped off mid-arm, dropped to the floor. Wulfgar pulled back his arm and looked up, smiling, just as a bony fist connected with his jaw.
“You have taken 2 points of damage!”
He swung at the arm, but missed as its owner retracted it. Wulfgar’s sword spit sparks as it glanced off the stone wall.
“You have taken 3 points of damage!”
Wulfgar fe
ll backward, onto his ass. He hadn’t even seen that attack coming. He rolled away from his attacker and back up onto his feet just in front of the doorway. He shook off the fuzziness in his head and focused back on the skeleton, grim in its determined pursuit of him.
“Enough of this shit,” muttered Wulfgar as he activated Blade Wind.
His right arm flew out as his body whirled and he felt his sword connect, twice.
“5 points of damage!”
“10 points of damage!”
“Critical Hit!”
Wulfgar regained his balance as he watched the head fly from his attacker. The rest of the bones dropped into an unmoving pile at his feet. He turned and saw another skeleton, rocked to its heels - the first of his hits. Blade Wind’s swirl had brought the second skeleton within arm’s length and his blow had sent the would-be back-stabber reeling. Wasting no time, Wulfgar moved to follow up the attack before his enemy could recover.
Grinning wolfishly, he strode forward, raising his arm. He saw, from the corner of his eye, a flash of light and the smell of sulfur, and saw several flaming, smoking bones fly past, behind his current target. He brought down his arm, as hard as he could, aimed at the shining bone head of the skeleton.
“3 points of damage!”
Wulfgar laughed and pulled back his arm as the skeleton dropped to one knee. He kicked, connecting with its jaw.
“1 point of damage!”
The skeleton fell backward, laid out prone, and Wulfgar followed through, stepped forward and brought his right foot down onto the skull, which exploded into a shower of bone shards and dust.
“Your Alignment is now Neutral Good!”
He turned to survey the rest of the battle. Bear and Prince were ripping apart a flailing skeleton at the far end of the room, Doe cowered behind them, hidden, protected, within one of the now empty cells. He then saw Tane, his hands held forward, one palm raised, the other lowered, move his mouth as a flaming ball shot from his fingertips, connecting with the ribcage of an armless skeleton. The fireball exploded on its chest, and it dropped to its knees before trying to, clumsily, rise back to its feet. Tane and Bael wasted no time, moving in with their swords and hacking at both sides of it.
