by Riley Keene
“No, but just look at it.” Elise pointed at the dragon beneath the glassy stone. “It looks like it’s just frozen.”
“The last confirmed dragon sighting was a century ago, far to the west in Feldhok. That means this beast has been locked like that for more than a hundred years. If it survived whatever process locked it into the stone here, it would have been starved by the ages locked in place.” Athala shrugged. “Survival seems unlikely.”
“What if the spell sustained it somehow?”
“But why?” Athala asked, her brow furrowing. “If you managed to outwit and trap a dragon like this, why would you do it in a way that would keep it alive? I mean, it’s not the most efficient way to deal with a dragon, but it’s definitely safer than a straight fight.” She scratched her chin. “In theory, a dragon could be empowered by divine magic, and so it would be able to use magic to sustain itself. But not indefinitely. It would be a constant drain of divine energy instead of a source of it. After decades, its God might be forced to divert too much power and attention to other endeavors, causing the creature to die.” Athala’s brow furrowed. “You know, that may have been the intent. If this trap was part of a holy war between two Gods, it would have been quite a blow to the God’s morale to force them to choose the death of their own dragon. The aim might have been to simply add insult to injury.”
“But it’s possible though?” Elise looked around at the room they were in. “What if this was done by the God themselves? Or Her own servants? Sealing Her own dragon off for the future?”
“Well, it is possible,” Athala said, “but it’s a lot of energy to perform such a spell. Why spend so much to cut off your own arm, with the promise that someday you might get it back?” Athala paused. She leaned forward, steepling her fingers in front of her chest. “Wait, ‘Her’? You think this is Ydia’s dragon?”
“It looks exactly like the one from my dream,” Elise said, defensively. “Maybe it’s been reaching out to me. It knew we were coming. I think we need to free it.”
“That seems unlikely,” Athala said. She shifted so that she was sitting on the dais instead of kneeling. The floor being semi-translucent was very disconcerting. Athala frowned. “Henni’s Guide wasn’t too clear on if the dragon had to be conscious to perform this ritual. Even then, it would be quite the stretch for it to do such a thing in its current state. It’s more likely that if those dreams were messages, they were from a God.”
Athala nibbled on her thumbnail thoughtfully. “But it wouldn’t necessarily be the God this dragon belongs to. They might have some ulterior motive. Maybe this isn’t even Ydia’s dragon.” She examined the runes of the spell as they swirled past under the stone. “But it seems likely that we’ll free it anyway. The spell appears to be related to its binding, and by taking it, the dragon will be freed. Possibly. I guess we'll find out if we’re unleashing a dragon or just unshackling a corpse.”
“Do you think it might be a problem?” Ermolt said as he walked up behind them, tossing aside a tangle of white cloth. “If we unleash a dragon, doesn’t it have some pretty severe consequences?”
“Theoretically, yes,” Elise said, blinking at Ermolt as if she forgot he was in the room. “But it’s more likely that the consequences will be far above our heads. The dragon will be a token threat in the machinations between Gods, but unless there is a major war to divert their forces, each city has enough military power to protect itself from a dragon attack. If it were to attack any cities or temples of rival Gods, there’s a high chance that it would be killed in the fight.” She shrugged. “Honestly, the best way for it to serve its God would just be to be seen so that word spreads. If one of the Gods’ dragons is free, it could draw more worshipers to that God.”
“The most immediate consequence would be what happens to us,” Athala admitted. “It might not realize that we freed it from its prison, and could be hostile. If we’re ready to run, we could likely get clear while the effects of the spell collapse.”
She paused, drawing over one of the Draconian runes as it lazily floated by. “In an ideal situation, it would just use magic to teleport itself away to a lair somewhere to regroup and recuperate from whatever has been done to it.” She looked over to the door they entered through, which was still mostly in pieces on the floor. “If it doesn’t get a good look at us, it probably won’t have enough information to be able to find us if we run before the spell wears off. It seems likely we could escape with the spell—and our lives—regardless of the dragon’s mood.”
“Alright then,” Ermolt said heading back across the room to collect his hammer. “I suppose we should be getting down to business.” He hefted the weapon up onto his shoulder. “I’ll watch the door to make sure we can escape.”
“So what do you need my help with?” Elise asked Athala.
“I’ll need a little help getting some notes scribbled down before I start just reading it blindly.” She pointed to the spinning ring of runes. “I just need you to help me keep from losing my place. I want to have some familiarity with them before I start.” She grinned grimly. “A spell strong enough to stop a dragon is bound to have some complications to it.”
Chapter Twelve
The preparation involved with collecting the spell was not terribly time-consuming. Athala did not copy every rune exactly, just fragments of them—enough to gather which rune was which. Elise walked the circle of runes, following its pace to keep Athala on track.
Athala began to scowl down at her notes as they progressed through the second of the three rings.
“Something wrong?” Elise asked.
Athala looked up and noticed Elise was trying to keep her focus on a distant point in the room, likely to avoid becoming dizzy.
“I’m not sure,” Athala said, scowling harder. “The spell definitely has a touch of the divine to it, so I really don’t think I can criticize its construction, but it seems incomplete. It doesn’t make sense as written. I feel like there should be some more connecting runes.” Athala shrugged and took a deep breath, trying to smooth her scowl. She could hear the years-past echo of her handmaiden, Otily, warning her of the wrinkles a young lady could get from scowling so much.
“If a God either made the spell, or closely guided whoever did, it would make sense that the spell would be confusing to mortal wizards.”
“That sounds kind of serious, though,” Elise said, shifting her feet before she stepped on Athala’s notes. “Are you sure this is something we should be messing with?”
“Technically, no. The Gods hate it when mortals play with their toys. But the way I will handle the spell should, er, avoid conflicts.”
“What do you mean?” asked Ermolt from the doorway as he watched them.
“Well, in broad strokes, I will read the spell here, calling it to me. The spell itself will basically be held in my mind. I could, technically, cast the spell, but it’s unwise to do so.” Athala leaned back away from her notes. “Casting a divine-touched spell as-is could have any effect, even if I’m right about it being related to the dragon’s binding. My hope is to study the spell carefully from my mind, making notes and experimenting with fragments of it. I hope to discover what it does, how it works, and break it down into magical components that might be combined with other spells, or become spells in their own right.”
Athala looked down at the dragon entombed below. The gentle golden glow that filled the translucent cavern it rested in was soothing. “If this is a spell of some sort of eternal slumber, I might be able to use components of it in my ‘hesitance’ spell, making it last longer, or be more efficient to cast, or even offering other improvements to its effect. Or I could find ways to change the spell itself and add it to my own spellbook. Something that can stop a dragon would be a potent tool to have at our disposal. In fact—”
“Alright, alright” Elise said, raising a hand almost defensively, causing Athala to smile. “I got it.”
“In any case, I’m almost ready.” Athala turned back to
her notes, guiding a finger over the fragments of runes she’d copied down. “I’m assuming whoever cast this knew what they were doing, because the spell obviously worked.” She tapped a few places where she had left blank spaces. It seemed like parts were missing. “I don’t like it feeling like this, but I’m not sure what else could be needed.”
“Alright, so I can stop circling?”
“Yes, thank you, Elise.” Athala smiled up at the Conscript. “In fact, you might want to back away to a safe distance.”
Athala waited until Elise was stumbling away—likely too dizzy to walk a straight line—before she started to gather her notes. She stood and deposited the notes on the altar, sorting them out in front of her.
The runes swirled by beneath her feet, a constant distraction. It wasn’t just the movement that distracted her, though. She found it. After years of research and months of putting together a plan, her dream was finally coming true. She was here, she was ready, and she would claim this spell.
It took a considerable amount of focus to keep on task.
Once Athala was satisfied that everything was in order, she lifted her head and began to speak in a calm, clear voice.
Speaking Draconian, the language of magic, was always a strange experience for Athala. The words were mostly composed of meanings—not sounds—and the primary objective of any wizard’s training was learning how to make the appropriate sounds to communicate Draconian phrases. It was actually believed by some that wizardry was not a predisposition towards harnessing magical energies, but was instead based on the innate ability to actually make such noises come from a human throat.
Athala began to tense as she approached the first part of the spell that she felt was missing. There was a noticeable change in the air as she passed over the empty space onto the next rune, but nothing immediately happened. It was likely that her companions wouldn’t even notice, being as they weren’t attuned to magic. But since there was no immediate consequence, Athala decided she must be overreacting.
That was, until she passed over the next section she thought was missing.
A cacophonous sound, like a massive bell being rung behind her eyes, ripped through the room. Athala stumbled to her knees, and from the corner of her eye she could see Elise and Ermolt catch themselves against the wall. The rich, smooth gonging noise ripped through any attempts she made to cover her ears, and the vibration rattled her to her core. One of the golden ribbons twisted around the pillars that circled the dais smoldered and curled, turning to ash as a rush of reddish runes flashed up its length.
As the sound faded, Athala struggled to her feet. She pitched forward only once, and thankfully the altar was there to catch her fall. Her ears were still ringing, although Athala wasn’t exactly sure how that was possible. There had been no physical noise, she was almost sure. But the bell was the least of her concerns.
From the moment that bell had ripped through the air, Athala knew what was wrong with the spell. She immediately began pouring over her notes. It wasn’t until the ringing in her ears quieted that she realized she’d been talking aloud for some time. “—ingenious! I didn’t know such a thing—”
A hand fell to Athala’s shoulder, startling her. She looked up, eyes wide and wild, to see Elise’s concerned expression. “Slow down, Athala. What’s going on? What was that noise?”
“The missing runes,” Athala said, technically repeating herself as she pulled her scroll case off her shoulder. She retrieved the charcoal rubbings she had taken earlier—both the door and the stone pillar. “That’s what’s wrong. The runes that were missing from the door that were on the inscribed stone, they the ones missing from the spell.”
Athala spread the rubbings out on the top of the altar, holding them still with spread fingers as she compared the two inscriptions. Now that she knew what she was looking at, it was painfully obvious. Her professors would have been so disappointed in her.
“It’s ingenious. I didn’t know such a thing was possible. The persistent parts of the spell—the components that require ongoing power and need to remain intact—are all here. But the initiation of the spell, and some of the side components, are missing fragments of it. There must be a dormant trap on the ribbons to act as a disruption and an alarm, with the trigger being reading the spell wrong. The first one was an alarm, but the other ones are probably actual traps.”
She inspected the ribbons that were still in place. It felt right. They could just be alarms as well, but Athala didn’t want to find out. When she looked back at Elise, she could see the Conscript was apprehensive and Athala sighed.
“Ultimately, regardless of whether or not I can get anything out of this spell, this whole trip was worth it just to discover this incredible setup.”
“Alright,” Elise said, hesitantly. She looked between the columns, Athala’s notes, and the rotating runes of the spell. “So you’ve got it then? No more loud noises?”
Athala looked down at her notes. “In theory.” Without waiting for a response, Athala began writing in the runes, filling the blank spaces in her notes. As she went she mouthed the whole spell, and even without the actual sounds in place it felt right. When she finished, she looked up with a nod. “Addendum, yes, definitely. If I’d actually paid attention and looked for just a moment at what I thought was missing, I’d have seen this immediately.”
She pointed to one of the runes she’d just filled in to the rune next to it from the spell itself. “The runes that are missing from the door carvings looked a little out of place on the inscribed stone. They’re simpler, like the runes of a spell, instead of these complicated runes from the rest of the message.” She pointed back to the rubbing, pointing out the difference between the same rune, and the one that was next to it on the inscribed stone, drawing attention to the difference in complexity. “Now that I know what I’m looking at, the ordering is so simple. I have it this time. I know it.”
Elise looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead she nodded and retreated back down from the dais. Without the Conscript’s distracting presence, Athala realized her ears were still ringing. Well, ringing wasn’t right. It was an odd thumping noise, but it was distant and admittedly preferable to the high-pitched whine she’d started with. She shook her head a few times to clear it, but it persisted. It even grew in volume, annoyingly enough. Maybe she was getting a headache.
Athala tucked the charcoal rubbings safely into her scroll case before she prepared to read the spell a second time. She took a deep breath to steady herself, bringing on a mindfulness that closed out the thumping sound that threatened to break her concentration. With her head in the right place, Athala began reading the spell once more. As she read the first replaced rune, she noted there was no change in the air as she had sensed during the previous reading. She pushed onward, confidence renewed, and as she passed the second replacement, she knew she had it right.
At the halfway point she was nearly giddy. The years of research and the thousands of dead ends were finally a thing of the past. Her mind wandered to the praise and admiration she’d get from her fellow wizards, the ones who told her it was stupid to look into the hidden spells of the world. She would finally show them that putting oneself in danger could be rewarding, if one were smart enough to set their sights on a worthwhile goal.
Athala struggled to return her thoughts to the spell and keep herself on track. She’d been reading on instinct, and while she was secure in her ability to do so, she didn’t want to mess up. Her companions were testy enough after the long day, and she didn’t need to lose her place and have to start again.
It was all for naught, however, as a booming sound, loud and immediate, distracted her and Athala paused too long between symbols. The magic in the air dissipated and Athala cried out.
She looked to find the source of the noise, anger boiling in her belly. If Elise or Ermolt were the cause, Ydia herself wouldn’t be able to help them.
Against the back wall, in the space between wher
e the two destroyed statues stood, part of the giant golden tapestry had been rolled up to reveal another heavy stone door. The noise that had distracted her had been the door being thrown open by the pair of guards in glimmering armor who swarmed into the room. Athala gasped audibly, even as she heard her companions surging forward to meet the newcomers.
The alarm, it seemed, had alerted the spell’s protectors.
Chapter Thirteen
Elise started moving forward before she was fully aware what the noise was. She and Ermolt had retreated nearly to the door, per Athala’s instructions, and now she was between them and whatever made that sound.
“Athala,” Elise said sharply, “start over.” Elise pulled her shield down and secured it in place. She skirted the dais from the left side, avoiding the awkwardness of the stairs all together. “Get the spell and we’ll run with it.” Drawing her mace she closed the gap between the dais and the stairs. The guards started to charge forward and Elise took a defensive stance against them. “Ermolt!” she called over her shoulder, realizing the barbarian wasn’t next to her.
“On your left!” Ermolt yelled. He charged passed her, slingshotting around her towards the pair of guardsmen.
Both guards hesitated and the barbarian bellowed a challenge, distracting them further, allowing Elise to take a moment to assess the situation.
The guards’ helms did not entirely cover the fronts of their heads and so she could see they were human, and alive. They wore heavy chainmail with bits of plate armor protecting their shoulders and thighs. The rumpled state of their dress indicated that they pulled it on in a rush. There was no tabard to indicate their allegiance, and they bore swords and shields, similarly without symbols.
Athala’s melodic voice began reading the spell once more, but the guards seemed to either not notice, or not care. Elise briefly wondered if they knew what it was they were protecting, or if the alarm had just roused them and they came as bid.
