Gujak sighed heavily. “Okay. Just be quick about it, all right?”
Durima nodded and crouched to the ground. She put her fists against the ground, which she thought was the most likely place for someone to place a nasty trap for anyone trying to get into the graveyard without the mages' permission.
Like she had done in the catacombs, Durima sent a burst of geomancy energy into the ground. At first, she sensed nothing except for rock and earth. Then it hit something thick and metal, something that clearly was not a natural part of the underground. She could not tell exactly what it was, but it was directly underneath the gate and it appeared likely to pop up out of the ground if Durima or Gujak tried to open the gate. She suspected that the ground under the gate was pressure sensitive and that if they walked on the ground beneath the gate, the trap would activate and do who-knows-what to them.
That by itself would have been enough to prove Durima's fears correct, but then she sensed something else, too. About a dozen long, thick metal columns or spears (it was hard to tell the shape and purpose of underground objects, even when she used her geomancy) were hidden within the walls of the graveyard itself. Springs were hidden under the columns/spears. Which meant that if she and Gujak tried to climb over the walls instead of the gate, they would be skewered like pigs.
And none of these traps are magical in the slightest, Durima thought. Makes sense. No doubt most magical intruders wouldn't have even thought to check for non-magical traps and defenses when they failed to sense any magical ones. Clever little bastards.
She did not sense anything else, so she stood up and said, “The gate is booby-trapped. So are the walls.”
“What?” said Gujak. “But I didn't sense any magic.”
“They're non-magical,” said Durima. “Like Guardian. The mages are willing to use just about anything to keep their stuff safe, including non-magical traps and machines.”
“Definitely,” said Gujak. “So what do we do? Use our magic to destroy these traps?”
“Of course not,” said Durima. “I have a feeling that they are rigged to alert the mages if someone tries to destroy them. Remember, right now the mages don't even know we've escaped and hopefully will not know for a while. If we're going to complete this mission without anymore unnecessary problems, then that means we need to figure out how to get into the graveyard without announcing our presence to everyone in the school.”
Gujak's shoulders slumped. “Oh, come on.”
“Stop whining and start thinking,” said Durima. “Or do you want to be the one to explain to Master that the only reason we couldn't complete the mission was because we couldn't climb over a waist-high wall?”
“Good point,” said Gujak. He then straightened up and smiled. “Wait a minute. I've got an idea about how we can get over that gate without tripping the alarms.”
Durima groaned inwardly. Gujak's 'ideas' were often not very well thought out or even particularly clever, such as the time that he had tried to distract a raging herd of baba raga by throwing a stick at them. Nonetheless, every time they found themselves in a situation like this, Gujak was always ready to volunteer his ideas even if they were not wanted. As a matter of fact, Durima thought that sometimes Gujak volunteered his ideas precisely because they were unwanted, although she didn't think he was that stupid.
Then again, Nimiko always used to tell me not to underestimate the sheer stupidity of others, Durima thought. That is rather interesting, coming from a god who's not known for his intelligence or cleverness, but I digress.
She would have told Gujak off, but he looked so eager and confident that she decided it wouldn't hurt to let him at least share his idea. Besides, Durima had always found a perverse pleasure in shooting down dumb ideas, so she figured she would get something out of this no matter if the idea turned out to be smart or dumb.
“All right,” said Durima. “Shoot.”
“Okay,” said Gujak, putting his hands together excitedly. “But you know what? I think it would be better if I showed you what I plan to do. It's too complicated to explain and would waste too much time.”
“What if it's a dumb idea?” said Durima.
“It's not,” Gujak insisted. “I mean, when have I ever come up with a dumb idea?”
Durima gave him a hard look. “The Valley of Death.”
Gujak scratched the back of his head. “Well, how was I supposed to know that the volcano there was still active? It looked dormant, didn't it?”
Durima sighed. “Okay. Fine. If it fails and we get captured again, I am going to ask Master if I can personally punish you.”
“There will be no need to do that,” said Gujak as he walked up to the front gate. “Stand back and watch the magic. If this plan works, it will be amazing.”
Durima did indeed retreat, but not too far back because she wanted to be close enough to take advantage of Gujak's plan if it worked. She kept looking over her shoulder at the Arcanium, wondering when she would hear the mages discover that she and Gujak had escaped and what they would do about that.
As for Gujak, he stopped several feet from the gate; close enough to jump over it if he wanted, but not close enough to step on the pressure switch that would activate the trap. He then crouched down to the ground and began digging a hole in the dirt with his fingers.
“What are you doing?” said Durima. “Playing in the dirt? Is that your grand plan to get us into the graveyard without anyone noticing?”
“I'm not playing in the dirt,” said Gujak, without looking over his shoulder at her. “This is all part of the plan. Just be patient. It will make sense very soon, I promise.”
Durima was about to ask what he meant by 'very soon' when Gujak plucked off a twig from the side of his head. He dropped the twig into the hole and then covered it with dirt. After giving it one final pat, he stepped back several feet from the dirt and folded his arms behind his back. He stared at the spot that he had re-buried, looking at the patted down dirt as if he expected to learn the secrets of the gods just by staring at it.
“What are you doing now?” said Durima. “Is that your plan? Dig a hole, bury one of your twigs in it, and then stare at it for the gods-know-how-long? I know your ideas aren't exactly always the most brilliant, but this has to be the worst.”
“Don't be so quick to judge,” Gujak said. “Wait just another minute. It shouldn't be very long now.”
“What shouldn't be very long now?” said Durima. “Gujak, you remember that I can't read your mind, right? I've never been very good at telemancy.”
“I know,” said Gujak. “But you don't need to read my mind because my plan is about to become very obvious to anyone with working eyes.”
“That's still too vague for my tastes,” said Durima. “Let's try one of my ideas inste—”
She was cut off by a rumbling in the earth, which came from the spot that Gujak had buried his twig. At first, it sounded like a volcano was about to erupt, but Durima dismissed that idea right off the bat. There weren't any volcanoes in the Great Berg, not even dormant ones, and if there were any, Durima doubted they would be underneath the school's graveyard.
Yet that didn't explain what was causing that rumbling sound … at least, that didn't explain what was causing that rumbling sound until a tree popped out of the spot Gujak had dug up. It started off as a single, dirt-covered twig before rapidly growing until, in less than fifteen seconds, a full-grown tree—which towered over both Durima and Gujak—stood before them. And before Durima's startled eyes, the tree began bending over until it was leaning over the gate.
Durima could not help but stare at the tree, while Gujak walked over to it with a big smile on his face.
There's no way that can be an actual, life-sized tree, Durima thought. It must be an illusion. It doesn't make any sense.
“Like it?” said Gujak, turning around to look at Durima, the smile on his face growing wider. He gestured at the tree proudly. “If you're confused, all I did was pluck a twig off my body and for
ce it to grow rapidly with a simple growth spell. I could have made it bigger, but I didn't want to attract unwanted attention from the mages, so I kept it as small as I could while making it big enough for both of us to climb.”
Durima closed her mouth and shook her head. She stomped up to Gujak and said, “Do you even understand what you did? All it takes is for one—just one—mage to look out the window of the Arcanium or to come visit a deceased one at the graveyard and they'll alert every single mage in the school about the tree that isn't even supposed to be there. Did you even think about your actions or did you just go with the first idea that popped into your wooden brain?”
Gujak cringed under her criticism, but he seemed to have some backbone after all because he said, “I didn't mean to mess everything up. And anyway, it's too late to get rid of it now. I can't just magically make it go away. Either we use it to get into the graveyard now, when the mages don't know about it yet, or we let the mages discover it and discover us. Which choice sounds better to you?”
Durima let out a low growl. “The first.”
“Then I don't see what you're so upset about,” said Gujak as he began climbing the tree. “We'll find Braim Kotogs's grave and be out of the graveyard in less than ten minutes, I bet.”
Durima waited until Gujak had reached the end of the topmost branches and jumped off. He landed on the ground on the other side of the gate, dusting his legs off as he turned to face Durima.
“Come on,” he said, gesturing at her to follow. “We don't have all day. There's no time to lose, especially not when Master is expecting us back as soon as possible.”
Durima shook her head and grumbled about the stupidity of Gujak's plans, but she nonetheless began climbing the tree anyway. She dug her thick claws into the base of the tree and in a few seconds reached the middle of the tree.
The leaves were itchy against her skin, although the itchiness was lessened by her fur. The uppermost branches did not seem as thick or strong as the lower ones; indeed, when Durima tried to put most of her weight on them, the branches shook a little bit more than she liked.
But Durima figured she could get on them and jump off very quickly if she had to. So she climbed onto the upper branches, steadying herself to keep herself from falling onto the gate below, and then stood up as much as she could. The branches swayed under her weight, but as they did not sway very much, she figured that she was going to be okay.
And then, without warning, the branches snapped under her feet. Taken by surprise, Durima fell straight down. She fell for only a brief period before landing on her back on the graveyard's gate with a loud crunch, the fall sending a burst of pain through her back that made her want to scream. The gate crumpled underneath her weight like paper, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt to fall on it like that.
Before she could stand up, however, she heard something moving underneath her, something large, and the next moment the earth exploded around her. Clods of dirt flew through the air, forcing her to cover her face with her hands to avoid getting the dirt in her eyes. The screeching hinges of something metal burst in her ears, followed by the sound of two metal things slamming together and locking in unison. Gujak was shouting in surprise.
All of this happened in perhaps ten seconds, if even that. In no time at all, everything went quiet again and no more earth went flying through the air, so Durima lowered her massive fists and looked around at her current situation.
The gate she had fallen on was broken. Her weight had somehow crushed it, even though the gate had looked solid before. She supposed that she was much heavier than she had thought, although at the moment that was the least of her problems.
The actual problem—aside from her aching back, which had taken the brunt of the fall—was the egg-shaped metal cage that had popped out of the dirt around her. It was covered in earth, making it looking as old and ancient as the underground ruins on World's End, although despite its appearance, Durima doubted it would be easy to break out of.
On the other side of the cage, Gujak was dancing around anxiously, looking at Durima's predicament with big worried eyes and an even more worried-looking frown.
“Oh no,” said Gujak. “Oh no, oh no, oh no. This is not good. This is not good at all.”
For once, Durima agreed with Gujak. And for once, she was pretty certain that their mission was going to be a complete and utter failure. And she did not like that at all.
Chapter Seven
“Magical Superior, this is the last straw,” said Yorak, standing in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest. “I cannot stand by idly while things like this happen to your students, not after you promised me that my students would be safe here.”
The Magical Superior didn't cringe under Yorak's harsh tone. He didn't even really look at her. He was instead watching as some of the teachers moved the frozen chimera away from the courtyard, taking it to the catacombs, where it would be kept until they decided what to do with it. Almost all of the students had gathered by now to see what all of the excitement was about, but it would not be long before they had to return to their classes. The Institute students all stood together nearby, listening to the one named Kuroshio as he explained in Aqua what happened.
“Are you even listening to me?” said Yorak. “One of your students almost got himself killed trying to fight a chimera. Don't you even care?”
He knew all about that, of course. The Magical Superior, Yorak, and Junaz had arrived at the courtyard just as Darek Takren had fallen unconscious. Darek's hands had been colder than a cold winter's night in the Great Berg, which had caused the Superior to order Aorja and Junaz to move him into the medical wing right away. At the moment, Eyurna was likely healing him, although he had not heard from her in a while, so he did not know what Darek's current health was like.
“Yes, Yorak, I am listening to you,” said the Magical Superior, turning to face her. “I was just thinking about Darek, actually.”
Yorak looked skeptical about that claim, but she did not question it, most likely because she knew the Magical Superior well enough to tell when he was lying and when he was telling the truth. “Well, at least that's one thing that's working the way it is supposed to around here. But it doesn't make this school any safer for me or my students.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” said the Magical Superior. “This attack took me by surprise as much as it did you. I suspect that this attack must be connected to the two katabans prisoners we were speaking with earlier.”
“Of course it is,” said Yorak. “And it's clear that their 'Master' will stop at nothing to complete whatever his plan is. You know, I think it would just be better if I took my students, returned to the Institute, and let this 'Master' fellow do what he wants.”
“But you haven't even been here a day,” said the Magical Superior. “Your students and my students have not gotten to know each other very well. Besides, none of your students have been targeted yet, if you haven't noticed.”
“Yes, I have,” said Yorak, her hands balling into fists. “But who is to say that they won't be targeted next? There's no guarantee that they won't. If you can't even protect your own students, how do I know you will be able to protect mine?”
The Magical Superior leaned on his staff. “Because I promise to keep them safe. That's why.”
“Your promises are beginning to mean littler and littler to me every hour,” said Yorak. “You said North Academy was safe. I used to believe that myself for years. But now … now, I am not so sure that my students or I should be involved in this.”
The Magical Superior bit his lower lip, thinking about what to say to that. Her words were far more rational than he liked to admit, but he had been so looking forward to fixing the rift that had grown between him and Yorak over the years. He had hoped that inviting her and her students to his school might be the first step in that direction, but now it looked like it would only deepen the divide that existed between the two schools.
Maybe Nijok was ri
ght, the Magical Superior thought, thinking of something that his deceased younger brother had said to him years ago, well before he became the Magical Superior of North Academy. Maybe my actions will never match my intentions.
But he rejected that thought outright. He was not going to let Nijok's words burrow into his brain and control him. Nijok was long dead. The Superior had other things to worry about, things far more important than what his former brother had once said to him offhandedly so many years ago.
Returning to the present, the Magical Superior said to Yorak, “If you want to leave, you can. But I think you may be making a mistake. I am going to find out what is going on here and I will fix the problem and make the school safe once again.”
“Another one of your promises,” said Yorak with a bitter chuckle. “How many more are you going to make before one of my students—or one of your students—actually dies?”
The Magical Superior had no answer to that. He just said, “I will do my best, as I always have, and that will have to suffice.”
“Your best has so far resulted in the destruction of one of your dorms and the near-fatal injuries of two of your students,” said Yorak. “But what am I doing here, berating you for problems you've always had? I'm going to gather up all of my students and take them home. This chimera attack was the last straw.”
Yorak looked at Auratus. Her pupil, as always, had been completely silent during the entire discussion, but as soon as Yorak looked at her, Auratus stood ramrod straight. She looked more like a soldier than a mage, which was appropriate, the Magical Superior thought, because Yorak had been a commander in the East Yudran army prior to becoming the head of the Undersea Institute.
“Auratus, get the other students and tell them that we will be leaving within the hour,” said Yorak. “Tell them to gather at the Soaring Sea and that we'll leave as soon as everyone is on board. Do you understand?”
The Mage's Grave: Mages of Martir Book #1 Page 8
