The Brothers Three: Book One of The Blackwood Saga

by Layton Green

  Mala inspected the door for traps, then took the bronze pull-ring in her hand and eased the door open. It wasn’t even locked. Will saw her examine the inside of the chamber, face expressionless, then wave everyone forward.

  Will stepped into a large hexagonal room furnished with leather couches and chairs, stacks of books, map-covered tables, and an area that looked like a cross between a stonemason’s and a jeweler’s workshop. A dazzling array of gemstones, as well as a variety of cutting instruments and lapidary tools, littered a long wooden table. In the center of the room, sitting on a plush rug at the foot of an iron throne, was a wooden trunk reinforced with steel bands. A padlock as big as a baseball protected the clasp.

  “Leonidus’s workshop,” Mala said, casting a wary eye around the room.

  Intricate carvings of monsters and godlike beings worked into the stone walls exhibited the same otherworldly artistry as the minotaur statue. It reminded Will of a Hindu temple, though many of the creatures were unlike any he had ever seen.

  “A former temple,” Mala murmured as she bent to inspect the chest, still favoring her wounded arm. Allira had tried to tend to her before they climbed, but Mala had waved her off.

  After a series of clicks and careful maneuverings, Mala eased open the lid of the chest. Will understood her trepidation. She trusted her ability to find and disarm any normal traps, but if there were a magical defense ensorcelled into the chest, with Alexander gone, they were out of luck.

  Nothing happened. Will edged forward and peered into a chest full of gold pieces, fatter than the coins in Salomon’s chest and possessed of a raised platinum edge.

  Mala twirled the coin between her fingers. “Platinum coins of the Old Era. Each one is worth five gold pounds.”

  She sifted through the coins and extracted a foot-thick tray, revealing a lower compartment lined with crushed velvet. Resting on the velvet was a thin gray ring and as a silver amulet on a matching chain. A spiral pattern, etched into the amulet in midnight blue, grew smaller and smaller within the circle until disappearing in the middle.

  Val stepped next to Mala. “The Ring of Shadows and the Amulet of Absorption?”

  She nodded and gingerly lifted each item out of the chest, then handed the ring to Val. “The ring should allow the wearer to blend into shadow, as the name implies.” She held up the amulet. “An item such as this typically has a limited number of uses. My guess would be five or less. It absorbs magic by dissipating it through the spiral. A powerful application. I don’t know much beyond that, nor do I have the capabilities to test the efficacy.”

  “As in, we’ll have to find out the hard way,” Val said.

  She gave it to him. “Aye.”

  Mala’s hands dug inside the chest again, found a secret latch, and removed another tray. Will leaned in and saw a scroll lying on the true bottom of the trunk. Mala lifted the scroll, removed the silken tie, and unrolled the paper.

  As she stepped aside to examine the scroll in private, Will caught a glimpse of what looked like an ancient treasure map, with a series of runes along the top and a dotted line leading to a pyramid.

  As she studied the map, Will watched her eyes widen. She rolled up the scroll without a word and, after a moment of reflection, stuck it into the larger pouch at her side. Will was curious as to what had surprised the imperturbable Mala.

  “Everyone help search this room,” she said. “There must be another way out.”

  “What was in the scroll, Mala?” Val asked.

  “Nothing of your concern.”

  Val placed his staff on the ground in front of him, his palm gripping just below the curved moon. “I financed this journey.”

  “And you wish now to rescind your offer?” she asked, a dangerous edge to her voice.

  “You’ve performed admirably,” Val said. “But three members of our party have lost their lives.” He glanced at Marguerite, still being tended to by Allira. “Another might not make it back. We’ve fought beside you, and Will saved your life. I think we deserve to know.”

  Will wondered why Val cared, and guessed his brother was thinking the scroll might help them confront Zedock.

  “You deserve to know?” she said, mocking. “I assume the spear is somewhere in this room, and you’ll have what you paid for. You can return to your home, fight your battle, and never step foot on Urfe again. Trust me when I tell you the contents of this scroll in no way concern you and whatever world from which you hail. It’s the sole concern of this perverse Realm, its petty rulers, and its unfortunate citizens.”

  Lance stepped next to Val and folded his arms. “You need our help getting Marguerite back, whether you like it or not. I don’t like surprises. What was the real purpose of the journey? Why the secret conversations with Hashi and Alexander?”

  “I need no man’s help, but I suppose it matters not. The revolution of which Leonidus was a guiding force still limps along, and yes, the noble souls who died on this journey were involved. More than involved. Chosen representatives of their constituencies.”

  That explained some things, Will thought. Hashi mistrusted all wizards, but he and Alexander were on the same team.

  “Leonidus was the first wizard of significance in ages to lend his hand to the cause,” Mala continued. “He ignited a false hope that was brutally quashed.”

  “You’re part of it too, aren’t you?” Lance said.

  Her laugh was harsh. “Hashi and Alexander sought to recruit me for their foolish revolution. They believed Leonidus possessed a blueprint of Congregation headquarters, which I doubted and of which we have seen no sign.” Even from a quick glance at the scroll she had snatched, Will could tell she was telling the truth. The scroll was a crude map of a jungle, rather than a blueprint for the sophisticated headquarters of the Wizards’ District.

  “A false rumor,” Mala continued, “and a pointless one. One does not revolt against the Congregation. One does not fight wizards at all,” she said, looking at Will and his brothers, “and hope to survive.”

  “Then why come on this journey?” Will asked.

  “Do you think gold grows on trees? What your brother offered is an exorbitant sum.”

  Will looked away. After another period of searching, Mala approached the throne and climbed onto the cushioned seat. As she did, a variety of stone levers rose out of the floor, all within reach of her hands.

  Will gawked at the latest example of the genius of whoever had designed the keep. Mala methodically tried all of the levers, working her way in a semi-circle around the throne. Will assumed the levers controlled different parts of the diabolical dungeon, though none but two had a visible effect. One opened a skylight above their heads, the sight of a brilliant moon causing Will to wonder how long they had been trapped inside.

  The final lever caused a narrow section of the wall opposite the throne to slide back, revealing a spear enclosed in a glass case. Mala checked it for traps and opened it. The weapon appeared to be a simple iron spear, but as Mala walked towards Val, she withdrew a second, translucent, spear from the deceptive iron sheath.

  “It would take a spirit mage to tell you what it’s made of, but if my intelligence is correct, this weapon is capable of passing through a magical barrier—once. Throw it at the wizard’s head. It will pierce his magical defenses. You will have but one chance at your target. Use it wisely.”

  “One chance?” Will muttered to himself. “What kind of a magical spear is that?”

  Mala handed the weapon to Val, who offered it to Will. Will hesitated, glancing at Lance. His old friend winked his assent. Will took the spear and ran his hands over the smooth surface.

  He sheathed the spear. Mala walked back to the throne and peered through the skylight. It was built for a wizard and too high to reach, even standing on the throne.

  “Only one portion of our transaction remains,” she said. “A safe return to New Victoria.”

  Will was nervous about the timing. They had been gone roughly a month, and a jou
rney back to New Victoria of similar duration would push them right up against the deadline to save Charlie. Moreover, it would be a death sentence for Marguerite.

  The gypsy adventuress reached into her bottomless pouch and withdrew a coil of rope. When she tossed one end through the skylight, the rope remained poised in midair, high above the roof. How many tricks did she have?

  “Won’t the exit be warded?” Val asked.

  “Not from the inside.”

  Once again, they secured Marguerite to Lance’s back, Caleb fussing over her like a mother hen. Lance ascended first, climbing hand over hand, feet crossed against the rope. As Will and his brothers followed him up, Mala scooped handfuls of coins and gems into her magical pouch. She came last, climbing with an injured arm and recoiling the rope, leaving Will wondering how she planned to reach the ground.

  They were standing on top of the central tower, the crenellations on the parapet rising to Will’s chest. The octopus flag snapped in the breeze. A dome of stars extended as far as the eye could see, the ocean an inky mystery crashing against the rocks below.

  Will noticed the jumble of bones at the base of the octopus flag, and remembered why Alexander had come on this journey. A deep sorrow for fallen heroes and lost companions washed over him, and he started gathering Leonidus’s remains into a pile. Lance and his brothers helped him. When they were finished, Mala doused the brittle bones with lamp oil, and Allira set them aflame with a spark of flint. The pyre felt symbolic to Will of everyone who had given their life on the journey.

  “What now?” Val asked. “Back through the castle?”

  Mala reached into her pouch again, looking perturbed as she withdrew a two-inch-high alabaster bird figurine. She held the statuette in her palm, sighed, and shattered it against the stone. Then she sat cross-legged next to Marguerite, pressing the back of her hand against her friend’s forehead.

  “Now we wait,” she said.

  Will stuffed rations into his mouth, realizing how starved he was. A few minutes later, Lance gripped his shoulder. Will looked up to see a colossal white bird hurtling towards them by the light of the moon. As it neared, the whoosh from its forty-foot wingspan moved Will back, and he had to brace himself as the creature landed in the center of the roof.

  When Will finished gawking, he turned to Mala. “Um, why didn’t we just ride it here?”

  “The figurine can be used only once, and for a limited time,” she said. “Onto the rukh. Marguerite’s time is short.”

  Caleb whipped his head towards Mala and opened his mouth, but then closed it, afraid to ask how much time Marguerite had.

  On impulse, Will ran to the octopus flag as the others climbed onto the rukh, which he knew was another name for a roc, a colossal bird of prey common to the mythologies of a number of cultures. He had the feeling that if he stayed in this world long enough, quite a few of the myths and legends from home would turn up in some form or another.

  He unsheathed his sword as he ran, sliced the pole holding the octopus flag in half, and tossed both halves off the tower. Mala watched him, her eyes unreadable.

  “Thanks for the ride,” he said, clustered with the others in the middle of the bird’s broad back, wondering how they would keep from plummeting to their deaths.

  “It’s not for you,” Mala said. “It’s for Marguerite. The rukh figurine was one of my most valuable possessions, but she’ll die if we don’t get help.”

  “I’ll add more gold for your loss,” Val said.

  She gritted her teeth. “The figurine was priceless, but keep the rest of your gold as your share of the loot. I’ll use the gems and coins I gathered for my fee, as well as the cuerpomancer’s.”

  “Cuerpomancer?” Will asked.

  “Marguerite will die before morning without help. Hopefully I can afford the payment.”

  “With all of that loot?” Will said.

  Her stare pierced him. “There are only a handful of cuerpomancers in the entire Realm powerful enough to help her. If the one in New Victoria is able to assist, and can be persuaded to do so, the fee will be exorbitant.”

  “Wouldn’t a healer want to help?” Will said.

  “Cuerpomancers aren’t healers. They’re wizards. You still don’t understand, do you?”

  “Mala,” Val said, “can you drop us somewhere after you leave Marguerite with the cuerpomancer?”

  “The rukh will remain with us until the morning. Where is it you wish to go?”

  “Do you know where Zedock’s stronghold is?”

  Without warning, the bird leapt off the tower and into the night sky. Will clung to the side of the bird, gripping feathers that felt as sturdy as a leather harness.

  Mala crossed her legs and retied her hair, loose tendrils whipping into the wind. “Aye, I know it.”

  “Can you take us there?” Val asked.

  She didn’t answer for long moments, and Will thought she would protest Val’s decision. Part of Will hoped she did.

  “Aye,” she said.

  -47-

  A swift wind carried Will through the trees, the mandibles of the spider people clacking just behind him. He was flying, propelled by an unseen force, the air at his back the only thing keeping the hybrid monsters from swarming over him and wrapping him in their cocoons. It was dark, and he wasn’t sure where he was or how he had gotten there. He was only sure that he was terrified.

  He risked a glance behind, his knees buckling at the sight of the gaping maws and faceted eyes of his pursuers. When he spun back around, waving his arms through the wind as if swimming, he flew straight into a web. Nightmare creatures chittered at his back. Pressed against the silken threads, unable to move, Will could only scream and scream and scream and

  “Will!”

  Someone was shaking him. Will’s eyes popped open to darkness and Val hovering over him. The wind rushing in his face and a musty barnyard smell snapped Will back to the present, reminded him that he was flying through the night sky atop a giant bird.

  “Nightmare,” Will muttered, then repeated it to Val in a near-shout, to be heard above the wind. Val nodded and looked away.

  The broad, level back of the rukh turned out to be a surprisingly smooth ride. Will supposed it was the same principle as a jumbo jet: the bigger the plane, the less one felt the journey.

  Will saw Caleb hovering over Marguerite, stroking her forehead while Allira applied a salve to her chest. Marguerite was pale and shaking, mumbling incoherent phrases and clutching Caleb’s shirt as she stared straight ahead.

  Eyes half-closed, Lance was slumped behind Caleb. Mala sat astride the neck of the rukh, clutching feathers the size of banana leaves with both hands, intently watching the sky as they flew towards the stronghold of a powerful necromancer.

  Will remembered how small Zedock had made him feel. Not just from the physical danger, but from the conceit in his voice, the arrogance in his stare.

  And not for one second had Will forgotten Charlie, kind and gentle Charlie, a second father to Will and his brothers. According to Will’s calculations, they had days left in this world before the necromancer’s deadline on Earth.

  He pushed away the fear of failing Charlie, a sleeping bat curled in the back of his subconscious. A rush of anger flooded him, and he embraced it. Something had snapped inside him on the journey. He had experienced so much fear and shame and despair along the way, failed so many people, that it had hardened him, chewed him up and spit him out a different person. He wasn’t sure this different person was an improvement, but like all those who have suffered the humiliation of a debilitating physical or emotional flaw, he would take his chances with the new Will.

  Will saw a distant, disturbed look in Val’s eye. Will poked him with a finger. “What’s on your mind? I mean, besides the obvious?”

  Val’s mouth wrinkled as if he were about to say something, but he compressed his lips in a way Will had seen before—a way that meant he had come to a difficult decision.

  “You’re w
ondering if we’re making the right choice, aren’t you?” Will said. “To try to help Charlie. You think maybe we should stay here until things calm down, until you can learn more magic.”

  Will could tell by the lift in Val’s chin, the roiling of his eyes, that Will had spoken Val’s thoughts.

  “I love Charlie, too,” Val said softly. “But family is my first priority.”

  “I appreciate the concern, but that’s not as admirable as you think it is. Would you save our lives instead of that of an innocent child? Charlie’s neither innocent nor a child, but he’s family, too. We have a chance to help him and we have to try. Have to, Val. I know you know this, and you’re doing the right thing. I love and respect you for it.”

  Val didn’t respond, and despite Will’s speech, he knew Val was far from convinced.

  “There’s something I didn’t tell you about what happened in the dungeon,” Val said, to Will’s surprise. “When I floated up in my mind and saw the maze laid out below me, I felt as if I could . . . step through the maze. Not just with my mind, but all of me. I don’t really know how else to explain it, and the feeling didn’t last. But it was there, and it would have worked. I’m sure of it.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Will asked.

  “I didn’t know how to take Allira with me.”

  Will didn’t know what to say to that. He gripped his brother’s shoulder, and Val looked up at him. “There’s something inside me, Will. I don’t know what it is or where it came from. What I know is that’s it’s powerful.”

  From the corner of his eye, Will saw Mala push to a standing position. He looked past her and saw the spires of New Victoria glowing in the distance, a kaleidoscope of color sprawled beneath a starry sky. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

  As they entered the city, two wizards flew out from a crimson spire to meet them. The sky had just begun to lighten, and Will could tell it was a man and a woman. The woman had an arm wrapped through one of her companion’s arms. Both wore fine clothing whose sleeves billowed in the wind.