Spells of Old (Ancient Dreams Book 2)

by Benjamin Medrano

  “Regardless of whether or not you think it can be done, both are what people in Sifaren believe. One of the sources is a noble, and the Queen seems to believe it,” Hall stated flatly, shaking his head. “I dare not assume they’re wrong until proved otherwise. Remember, many people thought the slave brands were impossible.”

  “Still, this is just… no, you’re right. I can’t allow myself to assume they’re wrong either,” Ulvian replied slowly, resisting the urge to pace as his thoughts raced. “And just because a dungeon never has had a body like that before doesn’t mean it couldn’t now. The Godsrage Mountains are where over a dozen gods died, so it’s entirely possible that a dungeon could mutate somehow.”

  “Your orders?” Hall asked impassively, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

  “Same as before. We don’t have the manpower to do more just yet,” Ulvian quickly decided, looking Hall in the eyes. “You know what terms we’re going to offer Yisara, and I’m giving you full authority to negotiate on our behalf.”

  Hall nodded and asked, “And the matter of the brands?”

  “I’ll contact our patron to see if there’s any truth to this,” Ulvian spoke, suppressing the note of trepidation in his voice. “And if Jared still lives, I’ll see about learning what he knows.”

  “As you say, Lord Sorvos.” Hall bowed his head and asked, “By your leave?”

  “Get it done, Hall. We’ve come too far to be stopped now,” Ulvian told his friend, a hint of worry creeping into his tone. Cutting off the flow of mana, the mirror only showed himself again, looking slightly wild-eyed.

  Ulvian swallowed hard, closing his eyes as he braced himself. Preparing to contact their patron would not be something he could do in a day, not if he was to avoid her wrath. But it had to be done. As he’d told Hall, they’d come too far to change course now. Besides, a not-insignificant part of him was looking forward to the conversation.

  Chapter 7

  Pulling the thread of awareness from her physical body, Sistina winced slightly at the pain which still wracked it. That run had not been good for the body at all, and had left her far less mobile than before. Still, it wasn’t like she didn’t have other things to do.

  Checking to be certain that Phynis was still practicing the basics of magic with Desa, Sistina happily noted the smile on the princess’ face. Phynis had needed something to occupy her time, and the two women were quickly mending their relationship. That Desa had actually resigned from the Royal Guard of Sifaren had obviously meant a lot to Phynis.

  It was when Sistina saw Desa gently reach out and guide Phynis’ fingers through the gesture of the light spell that the dryad paused, considering the princess and mage for a long, long moment. Was it possible that there was something more than mere friendship there, between them?

  Watching the look of concentration on Phynis’ face, Sistina found herself wondering for a long moment, before she decided it must be something else. Almost like they were siblings, or sisters. The very thought sent a thread of jealousy through her, which caused Sistina to pause, wondering where it had come from. She tried to follow the thread, but it led into the murky morass of dissolved memories that concealed Sistina’s past even from herself. As a hint of sudden loneliness struck her, Sistina returned to her body for a moment.

  This time she almost reveled in the aches and pains, the proof that she was alive. And it was in that moment that she spoke for the first time without others nearby, asking the question that had begun to haunt her for the first time. “Who was I?”

  The magic fizzled in Phynis’ hands again, a spark of light flaring to life so brightly she closed her eyes in pain before it guttered out. She kept her eyes closed for a moment, the afterimage of the light almost seared into her eyes as she waited a moment before speaking, pained. “Well, I got some light that time.”

  “You put too much mana into it, Phynis. It overloaded the spell and made it flare before breaking. Ow,” Desa explained, rubbing her own eyes as Phynis blinked at her. “This isn’t a problem that normally happens in training, you simply have too much mana. It’s going to take you quite a bit of time to learn to only use a tiny amount, I think.”

  “Mm… it’s difficult to use any less than what I did, though. I start weaving, and it just gushes into the spell,” Phynis complained, looking at her hands and frowning.

  “That’s why you have to practice. If you don’t, you’ll never get the hang of it,” Desa chided gently, smiling. “You’ve got some talent, Phynis, and more power than I care to think about. You just have no skill as of yet.”

  “It’s not like I’ve had lots of chances to practice before this. My magical potential was minor before we came here,” Phynis replied, sighing. “I just have to wonder how Sistina can so effortlessly create spells like we’ve seen her use? This is hard, and it’s a mere cantrip!”

  “I have absolutely no idea. Pretty much from the beginning we’ve seen her try to communicate in high-level magical concepts that I can barely begin to comprehend,” Desa replied with a shrug, a helpless look on her face. “We know she had a previous life, but no idea what that life was. I assume she was an archmage or the like.”

  “That would make sense. Maybe a druid, since she loves plants so much?” Phynis suggested, smiling as she glanced over at a nearby rose bush.

  “A distinct possibility. However, we need to focus, Phynis. You’ll never get anywhere if you let yourself get this distracted,” Desa scolded.

  “Yes, Desa.” Phynis sighed in resignation, and went back to trying to make the light spell actually work.

  Chapter 8

  Watching the cartloads of wood, stone, and other construction materials being piled in one of the larger clearings, Daniel shook his head and murmured, “I wonder what they’re doing?”

  “What’re you talking about?” Sayla asked, blinking as she looked up from her pack.

  “Oh, just the site where the Adventurer’s Guild members are hanging out. They’re piling tons of materials all over. I’ve seen enough other buildings under construction here to know they haven’t even bothered starting on a foundation yet, either,” Daniel told her, gesturing at the large construction site. “I’m trying to figure out what they’re doing.”

  “Ah. Joseph, do you have any idea?” Sayla asked, glancing over to the cleric, who was re-tying his boots.

  “Hmm? Oh, they’re preparing to have earth mages build the guild house,” Joseph explained after a moment of confusion. “The Guild doesn’t like having to wait long periods to have a guild house constructed, so they’ve worked out a series of spells to rapidly fabricate the structure, depending on what materials are in the area. Generally, the actual construction takes three to five days.”

  “What? They can finish building that fast?” Daniel asked, shocked by the idea. “How big is it going to be?”

  “It’ll be about as big as the barracks, maybe a bit bigger,” Darak interjected, nodding at the large barracks and training ground. “Usually has three floors, too. Remember, there’s a lot of mages in the guild, and the spells were researched specifically to build the same structure rapidly. All they need are raw materials to work with.”

  “That’s impressive,” Sayla murmured, closing her pack and hefting it for a moment. “I know that the road out this way was made by earth mages, but a road is pretty simple.”

  “If you can call that a decent road,” Darak replied, snorting. He paused, then continued. “I suppose I might be a little unfair, but the roads you have out here are barely passable enough to call roads. At least in my opinion.”

  “I didn’t think they were all that bad,” Eric protested, hefting the axe he’d traded in his old spear for. “What are roads like up north?”

  “Generally, they use stone for roads in cities. Poor roads are cobblestone. Outside of cities, gravel is the minimum that’s considered a decent road,” Penelope replied lazily, sitting in a chair under the awning of the tavern, reading a book. “The roads out here are more of tr
ails, in my opinion. They wouldn’t last long with steam wagons around.”

  “Well, that’s a damper. I thought they were pretty good roads,” Eric muttered, shaking his head.

  “Doesn’t matter, really. We’ve got a delve ahead of us, so get your heads straight,” Darak barked, grinning to reduce the sting of his comments. “I’m curious to see how the new changes to the dungeon look. Assuming we can see them, at least.”

  “Right, right,” Eric replied, nodding as he waited. “I’m done getting ready.”

  “Oh, I’m ready. Sorry, just got distracted,” Daniel apologized, looking at the others, then at the dungeon entrance. “I’m a bit surprised you four didn’t go on a delve since the guild got here, though.”

  “That’s because we want to wait for the Guild to evaluate the things we’ve extracted from the dungeon first,” Joseph explained, then paused and added, “In addition, we’re somewhat wary of going too far since those soldiers went missing. I’d rather wait for the Guildmaster to analyze the exterior of the dungeon and figure out exactly how big it actually is.”

  “I’m rea—wait, he can do that?” Eileen looked up incredulously. “Why didn’t he come here to begin with, then? Isn’t a new dungeon important?”

  “Because the magic we use to detect dungeons should have found this one long before it reached its current size,” Nirath spoke calmly, shaking her head. “The aetheric ripples of a dungeon’s magic generally become detectable about the time it reaches twenty chambers or so. That this one didn’t get detected until now is troubling.”

  “What do you mean by ‘aetheric ripples’?” Daniel asked, frowning at the unfamiliar term.

  “Mana flows through a medium called the aether. Think of it like air, and mana is like smoke or mist,” Joseph told him, shrugging. “None of us have made a detailed study of it, but as a dungeon grows it begins using so much mana that it causes ripples, like a stone thrown into a pond. That allows the guild to detect the dungeon and go find it.”

  “Huh. I think I can wrap my head around that,” Daniel replied after a moment, considering the idea before shrugging. “Though I suppose it doesn’t really matter. You ready, Sayla?”

  “I am.” The other woman nodded, smiling at him as she shouldered her pack.

  “Right. Let’s get on with this,” Darak growled, and began walking purposefully toward the entrance.

  Behind them Penelope called out, “Be careful, all of you. I’d prefer not to lose my guild juniors!”

  “They’ll be fine, Penny!” Joseph called out, chuckling before he murmured to them, “Just don’t make me a liar, hmm?”

  “Don’t intend to, Joseph,” Eric replied, his fingers nervously gripping his axe.

  Stepping into the dungeon’s entrance, the group advanced more cautiously than normal, as they were uncertain what changes might have been made since the sign was put up. Daniel paused, frowning as he heard a faint banging sound from ahead.

  “What’s that?” Sayla asked softly.

  “Sounds like a hammer. Keep quiet,” Darak cautioned, then took the lead, his axe in both hands as the dwarf moved slowly and carefully up the tunnel.

  The tunnel seemed unchanged for the most part, but after a dozen yards, the sound of the hammer had grown much louder and the tunnel flared outward into a slightly larger chamber. To the left was a small alcove with a stone door inset into it, bearing a large symbol of a star with a circle around it. On their right was a second stone door, this one bearing an elegant metal handle and with the words ‘Dungeon Storeroom’ carved into it. The hammering was coming from the other side of the door, and it was about that point that the sound stopped.

  “What the hells?” Darak asked, looking at the door in bemusement. “The other one is obviously the exit that was mentioned, but what’s this all about?”

  “It says it’s a storeroom. You could always open it and find out, after I’ve backed away a little,” Joseph retorted casually, grinning at Daniel as he spoke.

  “Shut up, Joe. It’s made of stone, and I can tell you that it’s safe,” Darak replied, reaching out and turning the handle, surprising all of them with how quickly he acted.

  The handle turned easily and the door slid open nearly silently on its hinges. The room it revealed was almost normal, the corners squared off, and golden crystals in sconces on the walls illuminating the room. Several sets of wooden shelves were set up along one of the walls, while a pile of wooden parts, nails, and a hammer sat in the center of the room. A dusk elf paused, staring up at them from where he’d just wrestled another set of shelves upright, obviously startled, and he muttered, barely audible, “Shit, I thought I locked the door.”

  “I-Ilmas?” Daniel sputtered, his eyes huge as shock all but paralyzed him. He recognized the man, as Ilmas had fallen into a pitcher plant the same day that Sina had died. Daniel had been certain both of them were dead, but he barely managed to ask, “You’re alive?”

  “Wha—oh shit!” Ilmas quickly backed up, picking up the hammer and brandishing it at them. “I’m not leaving the dungeon, so don’t even think about trying to drag me out of here!”

  “What the… do you know this guy, Danny?” Darak asked, seeming more bemused than threatened by the elf.

  “Ah, that’s Ilmas. He was in front when I scouted the dungeon originally. I saw him fall into a pitcher plant, so I thought he was dead,” Daniel explained, still dazed by the unexpected sight of the elf. “We were forced to run, like I told you. And I’m not going to try to bring you out, Ilmas. How are you even still alive? Is Sina alive?”

  “Uhh…” Ilmas visibly hesitated, the hammer lowering ever so slightly.

  “Hey, Ilmas. My name’s Darak Stoneblood. Are you one of those ‘dungeon servants’ that are mentioned on the sign?” Darak offered, lowering his axe to the ground and smiling at the elf, though Daniel was fairly certain that Darak could be on the attack before any of them could blink.

  “Yes, I guess so?” Ilmas replied uncertainly, standing up straight again as he lowered his hammer. It didn’t escape Daniel’s notice that the elf was watching him with distrust. “I’m Ilmas of Sorvale. And as to the question, it seems that the dungeon doesn’t care for killing slaves who had no choice whether or not they entered the dungeon. Unlike Kelvanis, at least.”

  “Wait, you’re a slave?” Joseph interjected, seeming startled.

  “I was a slave,” Ilmas corrected, crossing his arms and almost hitting himself with the hammer, frowning. “The dungeon screwed up the magical binding, so I don’t have to follow the orders of slave masters anymore. Good riddance.”

  “What? How is that possible?” Eileen yelped, her eyes going huge.

  “Hey! Focus, people,” Darak barked, shaking his head. “While this is all interesting, we should discuss it on our way out of the dungeon. Ilmas? May I ask what this room is for?”

  “Oh! This was… the suggestion of one of the other people. If people lose gear in the dungeon, we’re going to bring it up here and let those who challenge the dungeon pick it up, for a small fee,” Ilmas explained, nodding at the shelves. “There’s some discussion of selling some basic gear, too, but that hasn’t been decided yet. The main reason that we’ve got the room, though, is for somewhere those of us who live in the dungeon can stay while waiting for… well, people like you. Mostly I’m going to be the one up here, and I’ll happily come along with groups and haul out anything you pick up for a copper per floor.”

  “That, uh… okay, I guess that makes sense.” Joseph seemed bemused. “And the dungeon just ignores you?”

  “Yep. I walk past monsters and traps without a problem. But I won’t scout for you, I won’t distract monsters for you, or anything like that,” Ilmas told the cleric, seeming to relax as he smiled slightly. “The dungeon’s nice to me, so I’m not going to help you try to beat it. Besides, it’d just fight back. And I’d lose.”

  “That seems fair enough to me. Just unusual,” Darak replied after a moment, then shook his head. “Righ
t, well, sorry to bother you, Ilmas. We’ll be on our way.”

  “Not a problem, Mister Darak. Please close the door on your way out,” Ilmas replied, seeming to relax still more.

  “Umm, one second, Darak,” Daniel told the dwarf, then looked at Ilmas. “Please, Ilmas, did Sina survive too?”

  Ilmas paused, staring at Daniel for a moment, then replied slowly as he shook his head. “Ask after you reach the fifth floor, you slaving bastard, and I’ll reply. And not a damned floor sooner.”

  Daniel’s shoulders slumped, then he nodded. The others were staring at him curiously, but he finally replied after a long minute. “Alright. I suppose that is a fair reply. Thank you, Ilmas.”

  Stepping out of the room, they closed the door while Daniel brooded. Hope and fear were playing through him, and he almost started when Eric asked, “Who’s Sina, Daniel?”

  For a long, long moment Daniel was tempted not to reply. But looking around at his friends, he sighed and shook his head. “Another slave we lost in here, at the same time. She got grabbed by one of the vine pods. She was… also my girlfriend, though we’d been keeping it secret.”

  “Ah!” Sayla’s gasp was loud, and Darak shook his head.

  “You’re a fair way from having a chance at the fifth floor, Danny, but you’ll get there. Just don’t push too hard, or you’ll die,” the dwarf said kindly, smiling and giving his shoulder a squeeze.

  “I won’t.” Daniel took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Nodding, he said. “Shouldn’t we keep going?”

  “That seems like a good idea,” Joseph replied with an approving nod. “Everyone keep an eye out—we don’t know what else is ahead of us.”

  And they began to move deeper into the tunnels, while additional echoes of a hammer started up again from the room they’d left.