“Except for the Codex,” Max said.
“Yes, except that,” Ratticus agreed. “It seems history is in our favor, at least.”
“I get what you’re saying,” Sarah said to the thief, “but how can any of us pick a door without our minds locking into some kind of subliminal pattern?”
“I like doors,” Moki spoke up. “They’re neat.” All eyes turned to the small fire kitten.
“You have one choose who doesn’t see patterns . . . in anything,” Loki said, staring at Moki.
“Have we decided, then?” Ratticus said, looking around at the group. “Do we put our fate into Moki’s paws?”
“Sounds good to me,” Dirk was the first to say. “That kind of plan is just crazy enough to work.” He smiled. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”
“What do you think?” Loki asked his orange-and-white companion. “Do you want to pick the doors we go through?” Moki’s face brightened into a wide grin.
“Could I? That would be fun!”
Max was just relieved that he didn’t have to do the choosing. He looked at Sarah, waiting for her approval. She nodded.
“This is just so counterintuitive,” she said. “But in a way, it makes total sense.”
Ratticus smiled at the fire kitten. He motioned toward the three doors and said, “Which door shall we open, then, my small feline friend?”
Moki didn’t even hesitate. “That one!” he exclaimed, pointing to the one in the middle. The fire kitten looked around the group happily.
“Then that one it is,” Ratticus announced. He moved to the door, wrapping his fingers around the handle. “I just want to say, it was a pleasure playing this campaign with you. I hope we respawn near each other if we choose incorrectly.”
“We don’t respawn,” Max said.
“Wow,” Ratticus said, shaking his head. “Then you are brave.” And with that he pulled the door open.
The dwarf high mage had dismissed her guards and ordered Jiilk’s main gate opened. This was something that technically only the king could order, but none of the guards would dare to cross the high mage. They pulled on the massive gears, listening to the ancient mechanism rumble as the impossibly heavy stone doors slowly opened.
“Close them behind me and say nothing,” she commanded as she walked past. The dwarf guards were happy to obey her on both counts.
Outside the city, lingering fires burned, scattered throughout haphazard tents that amounted to a small city near the capital walls. A few structures had even been built—mostly inns and stables, constructed at the base of the great mountain and providing services to travelers making their way in and out of Jiilk. It was a haven for crime, but the high mage didn’t think anyone was foolish enough to try their luck with her. But then again, there were always fools with more bravado than brains, and so she watched carefully as she moved down the wide road leading to the coastal cliffs and Hammer’s Hilt Bridge beyond.
Her thoughts drifted to the impossibility of the day’s events. The Codex of Infinite Knowability had been found! And more incredibly, a living descendant of the author carried it with him. A boy, really, untrained and out of his element. And if her instincts were correct, from the Techrus as well. Rezormoor Dreadbringer had always assumed the lost Codex had been hidden there. And it did make sense; the Techrus was largely devoid of magic and the path there was long and arduous. One had to travel to the strange city that sat between the realms—the Mesoshire—or through other magical means that only the monks of the Holy Order of Attenuation controlled. As far as she knew, only dragons had the power to travel to the Techrus directly, but they were left in their human forms and their magic was greatly diminished. Unicorns were powerful and could, in theory, carry some of their magic with them. But they had never managed the journey themselves, and the monks seemed especially wary of unleashing the creatures on the humans who lived there.
It was an hour or so before dawn by the time the high mage made it to the coastline. Thoran butted up against the Crystal Sea as a series of high cliffs that eventually fell as one journeyed south. Traveling the long road to Mephis was the typical route to the sea. But the high mage had no time for that. She knew she must travel to Rezormoor Dreadbringer and bring him news of the Codex’s return at once. To do so would certainly further her reputation among the other seven high mages. And for a mage, reputation was everything.
She stood on the cliff and listened as the waves crashed against the rock far below. It had always been a surprise to her tutors at the Tower that she had taken such an interest in the water—it was not the kind of thing dwarfs were usually concerned with. No mage had ever spent time mastering polymorphic spells—that was something typically reserved for only the most talented wizards. But the high mage had done just that, stealing into the library and conducting her own studies while the rest of the Tower slept.
Now her power was such that she could have easily stepped up to the rank of sorcerer. And that was the path that led to becoming regent of the Tower itself. She put that ambition aside, however. For now, she would keep her skills a secret. Timing was everything—as were relationships. And she was about to become a trusted ally to Rezormoor Dreadbringer.
The high mage raised her hands and spoke words in a language known by very few. Symbols began to trace themselves across her skin, glowing gold in the purple hue of the near-dawn sky. They continued to grow, finally climbing up her neck and across her face.
Then she stepped into shadow.
What came through the other side was nothing like the mage who had entered. It was enormous, and it unrolled massive tentacles across the ground and over the cliff’s edge. The great creature pulled itself over the cliff, its powerful tentacles stretching, grabbing, and holding fast.
Below, a fisherman had been rowing his boat silently along the smooth surface of the water. He stopped and rubbed his eyes at the sight of the great black shadow that moved down the cliff. There were days, he decided, that one turned around and went back to bed—and this was one of them. He had managed to get his boat going in the other direction when the creature slid into the water and descended beneath the surface.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
FINDERS CREEPERS
MAX OPENED HIS EYES. HE was still alive.
He looked at Moki, who was grinning happily. “That was fun, can we do it again?” the fire kitten asked.
The rest of the group let out a sigh of relief. “There was only a thirty-three-percent chance of guessing the right door,” Sarah said, thinking it over. “But the odds of guessing the first and second door in a row are, like, seventeen percent if you round up.”
“Never tell me the odds!” Dirk exclaimed. “Seriously, math confuses me.”
“You may want to recalculate that,” Ratticus announced as he looked past the open door.
The next room had four doors, with the addition of another face carved into the floor. The group walked in and stared blankly at the four choices in front of them.
“How many more of these can there be?” Loki complained.
“What are the odds of guessing all the right doors in a row?” Max asked Sarah. Dirk put his hands over his ears as Sarah cocked her head and worked it out.
“Around four percent,” she said. “But that doesn’t matter because we’ve already picked the first two correctly. Past choices have no bearing on future odds—not when you’re talking about something as random as picking a door or flipping a coin. So for us, it’s still a one-in-four chance.”
“Three chances to die and one to live,” Loki said.
“A lock with only a tiny chance of opening it,” Ratticus said, “no matter how skilled you are. That’s why thieves avoid probability locks.”
“Okay,” Max said, thinking it over. “Just how many more rooms like this do you think there are?”
The group all looked at one another—there was no way to tell.
“So lets say there are four doors here and five doors in the next room,” Max
said to Sarah. “What are the odds we guess those right?”
Dirk put his hands to his ears again.
Sarah did her mental calculations.
“If there’s just one more room to go, that would be a one-in-four chance and a one-in-five chance. Which is, like, a five percent chance overall,” Sarah said glumly.
“And if there’s another room with six doors beyond that?” Loki asked Sarah.
“Less than a one percent chance to guess it right,” Sarah answered, the weight of it evident in her voice.
“Nobody can do that,” Max moaned.
“You know, it’s not too late to turn around,” Loki suggested. “We can still go back to our quarters and none will be the wiser.” But something in Max wouldn’t let him leave. He had to get the Codex back.
“Moki, did you want to guess another door?” Max finally asked.
“Can I? Oh yes!” Moki said happily.
“Then I think everyone else should go back,” Max said. “Moki and I will go the rest of the way from here.”
“Max, no—” Sarah started.
“No, I mean it,” Max insisted. “You can wait for me outside if you want. And if something happens, well, you can just go with Conall and you’ll be safe. And eventually you can go to that Mesoshire city Dwight always talks about and find your way home.”
“Dude, no way!” Dirk exclaimed, walking back to his friend’s side.
“I’m not leaving you either,” Sarah offered, doing her best to smile. “We’re in this together.”
“It’s my fault we’re all here,” Max said. “So it’s my decision. And I’m not going farther until you guys are safe.”
They argued awhile longer, but it became quickly apparent that Max wasn’t going to budge. He wasn’t the same boy who’d mistakenly cast a spell that day in the Dragon’s Den, Sarah realized. More and more he was turning into someone else—a leader. And if that was the case, Sarah and Dirk were going to have to listen to him. With time running short, Sarah, Dirk, and Loki finally agreed.
“Ratticus,” Max asked, “I’d like you to stay if you could. Do you need to stay close to Dirk to keep . . . working?”
The thief shrugged. “Parties get separated sometimes. Maybe if the others remain outside the entrance.”
Dirk gave Ratticus a man hug. “You’ve always been one of my favorite characters,” he said, actually sounding a little choked up. “Except for the time that wizard turned you into a zombie and you destroyed that peaceful village. But that wasn’t your fault.”
“Thank you, master,” Ratticus answered. “I’m sure our adventures will continue.”
Sarah gave Max a hug as well. “Trust Moki. You’ll be fine.”
“Thanks,” he said awkwardly. Dirk patted him on the shoulder.
“You can totally solo this, dude,” he said. Max nodded and watched them turn and leave. He counted to a hundred to make sure they were safe before turning and addressing Moki. “Okay, I guess. Are you ready?”
“Yep,” Moki said, pointing to the first door. “That one.”
Ratticus walked over to it and put his hand on the handle. “You’re a good wizard, Max Spencer,” he said as he tugged it open.
They passed through three more rooms, each with one more door than the last. Moki never wavered, and Max decided he’d have to rethink his whole position on the dogs-versus-cats debate.
The last room was not like the others, however. It was huge, and it reminded Max of the time he visited a professional football stadium. But instead of seats, this room had rows and rows of shelves that climbed up the walls, packed with an assortment of items. Max could see everything from suits of golden armor, lockboxes, and chests, to a good-sized ship in the far corner. It was such an overwhelming sight that Max failed to notice the small green creature working at a desk just inside.
“Don’t just stand there, shut the door,” it announced. It was small, maybe half Max’s size, and wore thick glasses and a whistle around its neck. Stacked all around it were volumes of dusty books and baskets of paper tags. It peered over its glasses at Max as Ratticus closed the door behind them. “So . . . ?”
“So?” Max repeated, not understanding.
“Your paperwork?” the creature said impatiently.
“Oh boy, you’re a gnome!” Moki announced from his spot in Max’s backpack.
The gnome slammed his book shut and ran out from behind his desk. “You brought a fire kitten in here? Are you crazy?”
“Oh, sorry about that,” Max apologized. “He’s very well-trained.”
“This is a flammable area,” the gnome continued. “You’ll have to take that thing out of here.”
“Sure,” Max said. “But I need my book first.”
The gnome eyed Ratticus. “That’s a sneaky-looking fellow over there.”
Ratticus nodded but remained quiet.
“Moki, why don’t you hunker down and keep out of sight,” Max suggested. Moki nodded and disappeared inside the backpack. “There, he can’t cause any trouble now,” Max said to the gnome.
“This is all highly unusual,” the gnome replied.
“We’re guests of the king, if that helps any,” Max offered.
“The king, huh?” the gnome replied. “Fine, just give me your paperwork and we’ll get this over with.”
“Paperwork?” Max asked.
“We don’t require paperwork,” Ratticus announced. “We are on the king’s errand, here to provide an . . . inspection of a particular item.”
“This ain’t no museum,” the gnome grunted.
“Of course it isn’t,” Ratticus said. “But this item must be authenticated. It’s a somewhat sensitive matter.”
“Uh-huh,” the gnome replied. “And just what item are we talking about?”
“A book,” Max answered. “Locked inside a black chest.”
“You’re mistaken,” the gnome said. “That particular item is not here.”
“But this is the Dwarven vault,” Ratticus replied.
“This?” the gnome said with a laugh. “You think this is the vault?”
Max and Ratticus looked around the immensely packed room.
“Granted, we keep a few things tossed about, mostly as a courtesy to certain royal families and wealthy patrons and such,” the gnome continued. “But this is just the staging area where items are logged and then sent below.”
“So there’s more of those door rooms?” Max asked, not liking the sound of that.
“Duh,” the gnome said. “The final room to the vault has forty-eight doors. There is no better place to keep something than behind a forty-eight-stage probability lock.”
Ratticus turned to Max. “And now we know the reason for the reputation of the Dwarven vaults.”
Forty-eight, Max thought to himself. That was impossible—beyond impossible. Even Moki couldn’t be right that many times in a row. There was no way he was going to get the Codex back, and his heart sank at the thought.
“And now I’ll have my friend escort you two out of here before you get into real trouble,” the gnome said. He pulled a whistle from under his tunic and gave it a blow. Max immediately heard the sound of heavy footsteps.
“Whatever’s coming is big,” Ratticus said, glancing over at Max. “I will do my best to dispatch it for you.” And with that Ratticus took off at a run, drawing a long thin blade he wore beneath his cloak.
“Ha! I knew you were trouble!” the gnome exclaimed as Ratticus veered around a tall shelf. Max was frozen, not knowing if he should run after Dirk’s character or not. In the online games, he totally would, but this wasn’t an online game. The sounds of a struggle came from behind an enormous shelf. It didn’t last long.
Ratticus returned, walking around the corner and toward Max at an easy pace. But he was see-through, like a ghost. The thief approached Max and smiled, tipping his head. “Well, that didn’t go as planned. I suggest you not draw a weapon on the approaching brute.”
The gnome jumped back b
ehind his desk at the sight of the thief. But Ratticus was quickly fading. “It was an honor serving with you in this campaign, Max Spencer. Tell my master thank you for the adventure. But mourn me not, for I will respawn with only a small penalty to my experience points—and perhaps some wear and tear to my equipment.” And with that Ratticus disappeared.
“Huh,” the gnome said as he slowly rose from behind his desk. “Never seen that before.”
Before Max could reply, Ratticus’s assailant rounded the corner and approached. The man was massive, loaded with muscle, and tall. Tall enough, in fact, that he would have towered over the big knight Sir Maron. Max didn’t even think about drawing Glenn and putting up a fight.
“Get these two out of here, you big oaf,” the gnome commanded. “And try not to mess it up like everything else you do around here.”
“Yes, sir,” the giant said with a sigh.
“Does your little pea brain remember where the exits are?” the gnome said as he opened the large book again and began flipping through the pages.
“Yes,” the giant announced glumly. Suddenly Moki poked his head out of the backpack. The fire kitten saw the giant and smiled.
“Tiny!” Moki shouted.
The giant’s sad demeanor broke at once, and he smiled one of the biggest smiles Max had ever seen. “Moki, my friend!”
The gnome looked up from his book, annoyed. “Oh, I see . . . worked here less than a week and now you think you can have visitors? You’re going to get written up for this.” But Tiny had had enough. He reached out and tapped the gnome on the skull with his finger. The gnome began to sway on his feet.
“Come to think of it,” the gnome said, “I think I’ll go nighty-night now.” The little green creature fell over and began snoring.
“Mean and rotten to the core, that one is,” Tiny said. “And thinks just because I’m big I’m stupid.”
“How’d you get here?” Moki asked.
“Turns out the guild had been working on a bigger teleportation room, and invited me back to test it. I wanted to go to Schil, but I ended up here instead. So I got a job stacking things on shelves for the dwarfs.” The small giant shrugged. “It wouldn’t have been a bad job except for my jerk of a boss.”
Fluff Dragon Page 13
