Spells of Old (Ancient Dreams Book 2)

by Benjamin Medrano

  “Thank you, Mr. Windgale,” Eileen replied, smiling now, and Daniel relaxed as well as the guildmaster seemed to back down about how bad their chances were.

  Behind them, a good amount of gear had been unloaded, looking to mostly be the personal belongings of the people who’d come with Albert. They’d begun streaming toward the inn, but a few had approached the dungeon entrance instead.

  “Just Albert will do. We’re not a military force, after all,” Albert replied. Turning, he nodded toward the dungeon entrance. “Anyway, what’s with the sign by the dungeon? It looks to be a bit more than a warning sign. The kingdom didn’t decide to try to regulate it or something, did they?”

  “Not at all. It’s weird, but I think this dungeon’s even stranger than most of them, Al.” Penelope shook her head and replied seriously. “We saw what had to be a dungeon’s Voice, and the sign was the rules that were communicated from the dungeon. Worse, this dungeon has to be at least five times the size of anything we’d expected.”

  “It claims it has a hundred floors of ten to fifteen chambers,” Daniel commented, and Albert spun to stare at him.

  “What? That’s utterly ridiculous! There’s no way that a dungeon could grow to that size without us detecting it,” Albert said flatly, shaking his head. “Bad enough that there’s a Voice, but that’s just preposterous.”

  “Be that as it may, Albert, that’s what the sign says,” Joseph refuted, shaking his head. “Read the sign yourself if you don’t believe me.”

  “I’ll do that. After I’ve taken a bath, shaved, and gotten a proper meal,” Albert replied with a slight frown. “I’ll figure this out, one way or another.”

  “The inn is right there,” Daniel volunteered. “They have decent rooms.”

  “Well, Daniel, mind leading the way?” Albert asked him, batting his pants to knock the dust off.

  “Not at all.” Daniel led the way to the inn, repressing his desire to ask questions about artificers and alchemy.

  “Hello, Mr. Windgale. I’m Lord Aric Evansly. I’m in charge of Granite Point and the local environs,” Evansly spoke warmly, offering his hand to the other man. “I’m given to understand you’re the leader of the expedition from the Western Adventuring Guild?”

  Albert nodded and smiled back. The human man was modestly tall and rather handsome, clean-shaven and with carefully trimmed black hair that had been combed back, still wet from a recent bath, Evansly noted, but it was his eyes that he focused on. Those eyes were a common blue, but the intelligence and steel in them was striking. Albert’s voice was polite, as he replied.

  “Yes, Albert Windgale, actually. It’s nice to meet you, Lord Evansly.” Albert nodded. “And you are largely correct as to my position. In fact, I needed to meet with you for another reason.”

  “Please sit, Mr. Windgale,” Evansly said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. As Albert sat, he circled the desk to sit himself. “What can I do for you?”

  “The Western Adventuring Guild wishes to establish a guild house here to assist in the delves of adventurers into the Dungeon of Everium, as well as to recruit additional members,” Albert spoke bluntly, lacing his fingers together in front of him as he looked Evansly in the eyes. “I was selected to lead the expedition and to be the guildmaster of the new branch. Unless this is unacceptable, we need to purchase land for the guild house.”

  “Ah! I wasn’t certain that such would be the case, but my superiors had anticipated the possibility of such. The Archon of Kelvanis is supposed to have once been a member of the Southern Adventuring Guild,” Evansly replied, smiling back at Albert.

  “Indeed? May I ask his name?” Albert asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

  “Ulvian Sorvos,” Evansly replied, shrugging. “We have few enough adventurers in our part of the world that I’m afraid I don’t know much more about him.”

  “Ulvian Sorvos… I don’t recall hearing the name. But he’s from a different branch of the guild, so I suppose that shouldn’t be surprising.” Albert looked thoughtful for several long moments. Finally, he shook his head and smiled. “Regardless, will we be able to buy land for the guild house?”

  “Of course, Mr. Windgale! How much land are you needing?” Evansly asked, standing and stepping over to his map case. “I’ve maps of the planned town layout, so if we could work around that it would be preferable.”

  “We should be able to manage that. Why don’t we take a look at your map first?” Albert suggested, smiling broadly. “How much land we need versus how much is preferred is quite different, is it not?”

  “A fair point. One moment here.” Evansly pulled out a map and nodded, smiling as he returned to the table. “Now then, here are our current plans.”

  Both of them leaned over the desk and began to discuss where to put the guild, and what should go where.

  Chapter 6

  Looking out the window, Justicar Hall frowned as he watched the company of soldiers stream out of the front gate of the Westgate fortress. Captain Marath wouldn’t have been his first choice to reinforce Lord Evansly, but Hall didn’t have any other choices available. Kelvanis’ forces were just spread too thin at the moment, and even with the recently rehabilitated captain’s forces, Evansly would be hard-pressed to block any outside access to the dungeon.

  Matters weren’t helped by the disappearance of Adjudicator Falgrave, either. Hall had never entirely understood why the Archon liked Jared so much, but the man had been reasonably good at his job, causing fewer problems that Hall had to deal with than any of the other four Adjudicators did. He wasn’t looking forward to Jared’s replacement, when one was eventually chosen.

  In the meantime, Hall needed to go through all the paperwork that had piled up in the Adjudicator’s absence. There were reports from the military and spies alike, and it was possible that some of them had information on just how this debacle had come about.

  Snorting softly, Hall shook his head and sat down at the desk. Glancing at the piles, he decided to start with the reports from the spies. Those seemed likely to be the most time-sensitive of the documents, and the most likely to be of use. Picking up the letter opener, he slit the top of the first one and pulled out the document.

  “Report,” Major Thompson growled, tapping a finger impatiently on his saddle horn. The major was a big man with dark hair and eyes, and his build had led many to think that he was a muscle-bound fool at first. Unfortunately for many of those people, Thompson not only possessed a keen mind, but also a determination to succeed. That was why he was in charge of their mission, and he was also rather annoyed.

  “The trail ahead washed from recent rains, sir,” one of the scouts reported, the man’s tired face streaked with dirt. “We can get around it, but it’s going to delay us at least two hours.”

  “Damn it. There’s no way to get across?” Thompson asked, his scowl deepening.

  “While we might be able to rig a couple of ropes, there’s no way we could get the horses across, sir,” the scout replied respectfully, shrugging slightly. “The lieutenant said he didn’t see a way past it without taking another route.”

  “Shit. Well, go ahead and get the lead elements started on the new path,” Thompson ordered, scowling as he looked around him. The man saluted, then trotted toward the front again.

  Just over two hundred and fifty men and women were with him, most with mounts, including an entire platoon of mages. This was an elite force, save for the group whose job it was to lead the priestesses at this temple back to Kelvanis, and they were being delayed by a trail being washed out! It frustrated him, but Thompson reminded himself that he’d taken into account potential delays when he’d set out. He had time to spare.

  In relatively short order, the line of soldiers began to creep forward again, and Thompson held back his urge to command them to move more quickly.

  “You know, I expected to not have to hike so much when I joined the priesthood,” Ruby commented, catching her breath as they waited for the othe
rs to crest the ridge.

  “And look at us now. Skirting the dangerous regions of the Godsrage Mountains, without a single attendant in tow. Nothing but the clothes on our backs and packs filled with basic supplies,” Diamond teased, extending a hand to Emerald. “High and mighty priestesses that we are, hmm?”

  The other priestess took it with a smile of thanks, then took a seat on a convenient rock while she took a sip from her waterskin.

  “Please don’t tease, Archpriestess,” Opal spoke as she reached the top. The orange-tressed priestess shook her head and then paused, frowning for a moment. “Come to think of it, why didn’t you pass on the mantle yet? It’ll take the ring to your successor and warn the church that something’s wrong.”

  “Because although it would give them some warning, the church likely wouldn’t think to warn the government, which wouldn’t help at all with the attack on Golden Vale. I also still need to check Our Lady’s abode. Without the ring, we can’t get in,” Diamond replied quietly, frowning to herself. “I fear they might have done something to Her. Or worse, that they might have somehow abducted Her. We have to know. I warned Sistina of the possibility, but we’re just guessing at the moment.”

  “I entirely agree,” Emerald spoke softly, the quiet woman looking up at them in determination as the last three joined them. She passed her waterskin to Sapphire, the other priestess nodding her thanks as Emerald continued. “Whatever Kelvanis is planning, they must be stopped. And Sistina is the first ray of hope we’ve had in years. I don’t know how that library survived the Godsrage, when no others of that size have been found intact, but it’s the only hope we have.”

  A murmur of agreement chorused around the circle, and Diamond smiled slightly, happy with how well her fellow priestesses were holding up. But it was at that moment that Amethyst spoke, her voice hesitant.

  “Speaking of Sistina, has anyone else felt the distinct urge to turn around and go back to her?” the priestess asked, looking concerned. “I’ve been feeling a little anxious ever since we left.”

  “I have too. I’m guessing it’s probably part of whatever Jared did to our heads,” Topaz replied, shifting from foot to foot. “I wish we’d had more time to discuss things with Sistina, but I fully agree that we have to rescue the other priestesses before they end up like, well… we did.”

  “Agreed. And I also feel that urge. I suspect everyone does, yes?” Diamond spoke calmly, looking around the group as they each nodded. A tiny part of her was irritated that Amethyst had brought the subject up, since an insistent part of her mind was whispering that she should go back to the dungeon, but she overruled it as she continued. “Obviously, the only solution is to get there, wreck the teleportation formation and disrupt the ley line, and get back as quickly as possible. Which means we can’t stay here resting.”

  Diamond’s words prompted a chorus of groans, but none of them objected as they rose from wherever they were resting. As they moved, Diamond frowned and shook her head, sighing. Even if they made perfect time, whether or not they reached the temple in time to stop the attack was up for debate.

  A mental sound, like a soft bell being rung, disturbed Ulvian’s examination of Medaea. He scowled at the sound, glancing upward as he muttered, “Why now?”

  “Lord Archon?” one of the succubi paused and asked.

  “Oh, it’s nothing, Wenris. Just someone trying to contact me via mirror at the most inopportune time,” Ulvian explained, shaking his head. “What is it with their timing? I swear that I haven’t gotten through a single examination without being interrupted.”

  “It isn’t like she’s going anywhere, Lord Archon,” Wenris replied in obvious amusement. “You’ve seen to that rather nicely.”

  “True enough!” Ulvian replied, stepping back and smiling at the succubus appreciatively, then looking back at Medaea.

  The goddess hadn’t moved since she’d been placed on the altar weeks before. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, if he was being honest. She’d trembled a few times, but the precautions he’d taken at the direction of his patron were effective. Medaea never woke from her slumber, and over the last few days, he’d finally started to see the faintest hints of their ritual affecting the slumbering goddess.

  Five succubi were slowly transforming the five female Enforcers who’d helped capture Medaea into succubi themselves, and the resulting demonic energies were being sent through a magical array and into the trapped angel of Medaea. The angel’s corruption was progressing swiftly enough, and Ulvian smiled as he looked into her prison, seeing the despair, desire, and confusion in the angel’s eyes, as her halo and wings slowly darkened day by day. Her acquisition had allowed him to work far more swiftly than he’d anticipated, as funneling such energy directly into Medaea would have certainly awakened the goddess prematurely. He rather liked living.

  Instead, the angel allowed him to use sympathetic magic on Medaea. She never actually touched demonic energies, but her mindset was being influenced by her angel, weakening her and rendering her vulnerable to the shaping stones and mindshards that had been implanted into the goddess’ flesh. And now her golden hair and bright red lips had begun to darken, if only around the edges.

  Another chime of the bell in his mind cut off Ulvian’s train of thought, and he swallowed a curse, shaking his head. It wasn’t the fault of whomever was calling that he’d been busy, so he gave a nod to Wenris and smiled. “Take care of her for me, Wenris.”

  “Of course, Lord Archon. It’s what I’m here for,” Wenris replied with a sunny smile.

  Smiling more, Ulvian headed upstairs with a bounce to his step. He did like having His Lady’s succubi around. They were always eager to please.

  Wenris watched Ulvian go, smiling as she did so. She enjoyed the company of the evil bastard most of the time. It almost made her sad that she was about to betray him. The key was to do so in a way he wouldn’t notice, nor would her supposed lady. Taking a quick glance around, Wenris realized that none of the other succubi were in sight, which made her smile grow wider as she murmured. “Finally! Took long enough. This should be about the right timing, too.”

  Reaching into a pouch at her side, Wenris pulled out a delicate-looking chisel and hammer, and leaning down, she set the chisel against a particular portion of the diagram and destroyed it with a single strike. Oddly enough, there was no sound from the blow, and she put away the chisel, smiling as she saw that the diagram looked almost perfect, save for the tiny portion that was damaged. Pulling out a tiny packet of dust, she blew it against the damaged symbols, causing the stone to shimmer for a moment before an illusion perfectly covered the damage, making it look as though nothing had happened.

  With another glance around, just to be safe, the succubus pulled out a small vial of deep crimson liquid and swallowed hard. If the other succubi caught her at this, she could only hope for a quick death. Fortunately, she had a way to ensure that, but she’d far prefer not to be caught at all.

  After she uncorked the bottle, the scent that wafted to her nose caused an almost overwhelming need to wash over Wenris. She wanted to drink it, but resisted only with difficulty. Carefully reaching out, she tilted the vial to allow a single drop to fall on the gem over Medaea’s forehead. The drop of liquid was thick and heavy, but it vanished into the gem without a trace of its existence. Repeating the process with each of the other three exposed gems, Wenris quickly closed the now-empty vial and put it away before looking around her again.

  Relieved to see that no one had come into view, Wenris smiled and looked at Medaea again, murmuring softly. “I said I’d take care of you, Lady Goddess. I don’t know what you did for My Lady to ask me to intervene on her behalf, but it must have been impressive. Rest well.”

  Upstairs in his office, Ulvian straightened his robes before channeling mana into his mirror effortlessly, putting a smile on his face. A smile which quickly grew more real as the image of a man in crimson plate, with short brown hair and almost black eyes appeared in the mirror.
He exclaimed with warmth, “Ivan! I’m surprised to hear from you so quickly. Didn’t you just reach Westgate this morning?”

  “I did, Lord Sorvos,” Ivan rumbled softly, nodding his respect and giving a thin smile. “Reinforcements are on their way to Granite Point now.”

  “Excellent work! You can’t have been there for more than four or five hours, though, so what brings you to contact me this quickly?” Ulvian asked, feeling some of his unease vanish. Justicar Ivan Hall was one of his most trusted friends, so he was certain the man would get the job done. He was also far too blunt to beat around the bush about problems.

  “I started by going through Adjudicator Falgrave’s intelligence reports, especially from his embedded spies. I wish that he’d waited for them before going haring off to the dungeon,” Hall replied with a scowl, shaking his head. “The man had or has extensive spy networks in place both in Sifaren and Yisara. Unfortunately, one of the reports arrived a good three days late to save him from his folly.”

  “Jared’s a good man, Ivan, and above all, he’s loyal,” Ulvian replied patiently, smiling at his ill-tempered friend. “But what is it that they found?”

  “The reports are inconclusive on many details, but what they agree on is that during Princess Phynis’ escape the first time around, her rescue party encountered an elf and a dryad. Names vary between reports, but the best guesses I’ve seen are Lily and Sistine.” Hall’s tone was blunt, and he scowled more as he added, “And apparently, the dryad is actually the dungeon itself, and was on rather good terms with the princess. Worse, there were rumors that the dryad could break the slave brands.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous!” Ulvian’s smile vanished as astonishment rushed through him. “Dungeons never are living beings like a dryad! They’re spirits, usually bound to an object or the like. And the idea of breaking a brand… that’s utterly preposterous! Believe me, Our Lady made certain of that before we even began this!”