by Drew Hayes
“Ahh, it feels good to be back in Cadence,” Fritz said, wheeling her cart around a pair of dapper men standing in the street. They gave it a look of interest, but seemed otherwise unsurprised by her magical moving device. “Up the street is the temple; there are plenty of priests there who are willing to call down divine healing—in exchange for proper donations, of course. We’re coming up on a turn that will take you up to the local Alcatham guard outpost. I’ll handle explaining things about the bandits; they know me around here. Ooooh, five streets up is a bakery that sells buns that will knock your shoes off. I’m being literal here; they use enchanted dough to pull it off. Then there’s the bar—”
“We need the mages’ guild,” Grumph interrupted. “Please.”
“Fun as a lot of that sounds, I’m with Grumph. It’s been three days since we left our friends; the sooner we can get the mages’ guild to help us, the better off I’ll feel,” Gabrielle added.
Fritz furrowed her brow, but seemed to be resigned to the fact that they were set on sticking to business. “All right, we can go to the guild. Let’s stable your horses and pop by the temple first, though. You don’t want to deal with those people at half-strength. Trust me.”
“Fritz, you’ve been a good friend to us and a great help in getting here,” Gabrielle said. “I can’t ask any more of you. If you just tell us where the mages’ guild is, that will be plenty. We’ll go handle our problems, and you can get back to work.”
“Sadly, that’s not going to work for me,” Fritz replied, steering her cart to the side and narrowly missing a stationary wagon filled with apples. “The mages’ guild isn’t a place I can just give directions to. It’s hidden in ways that require you to know what you’re doing if you want to find it, which means I have to walk you there personally. Don’t feel too bad, though, I would have had to stop by anyway. Those fogies are both my source and best customers for a lot of this merchandise.” Fritz patted her satchel tellingly. “Besides, I didn’t just help you out of the goodness of my heart. Seeing the show is half of why I came all this way with you two.”
“There’s a show?” Gabrielle asked.
“Are you kidding me? When a half-orc that looks like he can lift a horse walks in petitioning for membership, those old dicks are going to shit goblins, and that won’t even be half as fun to watch as when Grumph shows them he can actually cast. Mages might have a lot of power, but a lot of them also have their heads crammed up their asses. This is going to be something worth witnessing.”
Gabrielle turned to Grumph, who seemed impassive to the idea. He was, no doubt, already accustomed to such treatment. She could still remember when he’d first come to Maplebark and begun building his bar, when Gabrielle was just a child. Half the citizens lobbied her father to throw Grumph out, believing he was a spy for a clan of hunters or would draw villainous types to their town. It had been years of patient, constant work in Maplebark before he was accepted as one of the community, and even then there had been a few holdouts. Grumph was used to walking into places where he wasn’t wanted or trusted; Gabrielle had no doubt of that. She wished they had a better method to petition for help, but Fritz seemed to think this was their best way in the door. Strange as the elven peddler was, she clearly knew more about mages and their guild than either Gabrielle or Grumph.
“Well, we thank you for taking the time to help us,” Gabrielle said at last. “Let us cover the cost of your healing at the temple. It’s the least we can do after you saved my life.”
“I’d say we saved each other’s lives, if you look at the big picture,” Fritz replied. “And you should keep your gold. If the mages say no, your next best bet is hiring mercenaries, and those do not come cheap. Besides, someone needs to buy a new axe.”
Gabrielle’s hand moved on its own, resting against the wooden shaft strapped to her back. It was all that remained of her axe, the tool she’d had since the day they left a goblin camp with new roles. She knew that without its blade, the staff was broken and largely useless, but she couldn’t bring herself to simply toss it aside amidst the corpses of bandits. Her blade had died in battle, and noble as that was, she intended to at least dispose of it properly. That would come when time allowed, however. At the moment, their sole objective was getting to the mages’ guild and doing whatever was necessary to secure their assistance.
“Later,” Gabrielle said, letting go of the broken weapon. “First horses, then healing, and after that, we find the mages’ guild. I’ll have a shopping spree if there’s time.”
“Time is the one thing I don’t think you’ll have to worry about,” Fritz warned. “Mages aren’t exactly known for doing things quickly.”
“They’ll make an exception.” Grumph didn’t sound as though he were being hopeful as much as he was making a threat. Truthfully, Gabrielle wasn’t sure which category the words actually fell into, but she was glad to hear them nonetheless.
With their friends in gods-only-knew what kind of danger, every minute was precious.
* * *
“Look out!”
Thistle leapt to the side at the sound of Eric’s voice and narrowly missed being crushed under the collapsing tower of books stacked up beside him. He cursed as he saw them fall, not due to the danger or near-miss of being assaulted by literature. No, Thistle was angry because he’d just finished organizing that stack, and the toppling undid at least half an hour of his work.
“I keep you telling you we should take out the ones you’ve gotten through,” Eric said. He was standing in the doorway, a fresh stack of books tucked under his arm. Sunlight streamed through the expansive window behind Thistle, lighting the young rogue like the love of the gods was shining down upon him. It had taken nearly half a day for Thistle to find the best reading nook in Briarwillow, and the cobbler shop’s bedroom had won out due to the massive windows that brought in sunlight from all angles.
“And I keep telling you that it’s imperative we keep all the books around,” Thistle countered. “There are parallels in the diaries, similar notes in the stories. I can’t see how it connects yet, but I refuse to lose the chance at following a bit of intuition because the book I need isn’t at hand.”
Eric stared at Thistle for a long moment, and then set his newly found books in the pile that Thistle had designated as “incoming.” The gnome had been reading for nearly a day straight, even bringing a lantern and a stack of books into their basement when night fell. He was beginning to seem a bit frayed at the edges, more nervous and edgy than Eric had ever seen his friend before. Both he and Timuscor knew Thistle hadn’t been sleeping well—they’d heard him tossing in the night and jerking awake—but Eric suspected that their ordeal in Briarwillow might be taking more of a toll than he’d expected.
“You know, if everything is going to plan, Gabby and Grumph should be arriving in Cadence Hollow today,” Eric reminded him.
“Has it been three days already? My my, that means we only have three left, at most, to figure this all out.” Thistle wandered over to a small desk and picked up a book that had been left lying face down. “I’d best get back to reading.”
“Or you could take a nap.” Eric watched as his words bounced right off Thistle, who was already absorbed in the book he’d picked up. “You know, catch a little shut-eye. Relax. Get some sleep.”
“I’m familiar with the concept of sleeping,” Thistle said dryly. After a moment, he sighed and lowered the book, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Forgive me, Eric. My dreams have become anything but restful, and I fear I’ve begun taking out the resulting crankiness on those I hold closest.”
“It’s okay,” Eric assured him. “These dreams, though, are they . . . I mean, is it paladin stuff?”
“Unquestionably.” Thistle set the book down and allowed himself to fall back onto the comfortable chair where he’d spent hours already, reading until his eyes grew blurry. “Grumble has been sending me visions, ones which I have yet to understand. There is one thing that’s become abundantly
clear to me over the last three days, though, and it’s why I’m driving myself so hard to unravel the mystery of that cavern.”
“If you can share, I’m willing to listen.”
“Based on what I’ve seen so far, and a dream conversation with Grumble, I don’t think he’s held me here simply because paladins are not allowed to run.” Thistle leaned forward, looking out the eastern window to the mountain that loomed nearby. “Whatever this is, whatever we’re supposed to be uncovering, I think it has to do with minions. I’m not being held here as just a paladin, I’m being held here as Grumble’s paladin.”
“What do magic disease, a cursed skull, and undead villagers have to do with minions?” Eric asked.
“That, I have yet to figure out,” Thistle admitted. “And, as it stands, it doesn’t seem like I’ll be getting any clear answers from above. Hence why I have committed myself so heartily to these books. I will devour every scrap of information in Briarwillow to uncover what might lie beyond those doors. Perhaps it’s madness, but I feel that’s the piece of this puzzle that will allow me to lay the others in their place.”
“It might very well be madness,” Eric agreed. “But it’s not like Timuscor or I have any better ideas. Try to sleep when you can, at least. We need everyone for when the others get back, but we especially need you.”
“I promise I will do my best.” Thistle lay back in the chair, but also scooped up his book and opened it once more.
With a last glance at his frayed friend, Eric slipped out of the room and back into the town. All he could do was continue to hunt for the books of Briarwillow and pray he found the one Thistle needed before the poor gnome exhausted himself into insanity.
* * *
Gabrielle was both impressed and disgusted after they left the temple. It was true that the priests had done an impressive job of healing the wounds they’d sustained in their fight with the bandits, but the cost was so exorbitant that she nearly choked when they asked for the donation. The gold coins they demanded by no means bankrupted her and Grumph, but when weighed against what the gold could have purchased if they were living in Maplebark, her hands shook at the decadence. It was no wonder those who could magically heal never made trips to the smaller villages: only the truly wealthy could afford such services, and they would send for priests when needed. The whole thing left her with a dirty taste in her mouth and a new appreciation for Thistle’s generosity with his gifts.
So lost was she in thought over what they’d done that it wasn’t until Fritz was leading them past a fountain featuring warring mermaids for the third time that Gabrielle realized they seemed to be just ambling about, rather than on course for the mages’ guild. She held her tongue as they walked up and down the streets, passing many vendors who waved at Fritz while ignoring Gabrielle and Grumph. Only when they rounded the fountain for a fourth time did Gabrielle’s curiosity finally overtake her.
“Are we lost?”
“In Cadence Hollow? You’d have an easier time finding gold on the ground than getting lost. The whole place is a giant series of circles with interconnecting roads,” Fritz told her.
“So why are we walking past this fountain again?”
“Remember when I said you couldn’t just go to the mages’ guild? Well, this is how we get there. While they have incantations or some such that let them just appear outside the door, we mundane folk have to follow the proper route. I know it’s a little long, but rest assured that we’re almost there.”
Gabrielle trusted Fritz, both out of earned respect and simple necessity, so she continued to trudge along behind the elf as they turned down a small alleyway, took a corner that led them onto a street filled with merchants selling jewelry, then down a road that she was reasonably certain would take them back to the fountain. That turned out to be wrong, though Gabrielle felt certain that it shouldn’t have been, as the road split off into three different paths. Fritz took the left one, which led to an identical split where she took the right one, bringing them again to a split, at which Fritz took the left path one last time. This path was long and winding, impossibly so given the intersecting nature of Cadence Hollow’s streets, and ultimately ended abruptly in a small alcove.
Around them seemed to be nothing but a featureless wall, jutting up far too high to match the rest of Cadence Hollow’s buildings, with a single unmarked door set opposite the point of the street’s end. No one needed to be told what lay beyond that door. Even if she hadn’t been aware of their destination, Gabrielle could practically feel the magical energy in the air. The hairs on her arms were standing on end, and her skin felt like it was almost crawling beneath her armor.
“Here we are, the mages’ guild,” Fritz announced.
“You mean an outpost,” Grumph corrected.
“Well, yes and no. You’re better off thinking of the guild as one place with a whole lot of doors in and out. From what I’ve heard, you can’t access every part from every entrance, but they’ll all get you in the basic areas. For what you’re trying to do, this should be plenty.”
“So, what do we do?” Gabrielle asked. Given all the twists and turns it had taken to even reach this point, she imagined the tasks for opening the door would be even more complex. Grumph, it seemed, didn’t share her opinion, as he immediately started forward.
“We knock. It’s polite.” The half-orc raised one of his meaty fists and gave a firm, but gentle slam on the rough wooden door. A thud echoed through the alcove and bounded down the alley they’d taken, where Gabrielle had no doubt it would magically die out. It was an impressive sound, made somewhat less so when nothing happened in the moments after the thud faded.
“Good instincts,” Fritz said, walking up and joining Grumph at the door. Gabrielle followed suit, lest she get accidently left behind. “But you also have to state your purpose. For example, if I were to knock, I would say I was here with a delivery of magical goods. There are lots of wards in place, so if you lie about why you’re here, or say something that doesn’t deserve entry, it won’t open.”
“Can’t we just walk in after you?” Gabrielle asked.
Fritz shook her head. “The doors open to where you’d go for your business. My place is very different than where they welcome new mages. It’s a lot higher up the chain, and they might kill you just for stepping in without proper permission.”
“Guess Grumph will have to ask his own way in.” Gabrielle turned to the half-orc, who seemed to be stricken with a sudden case of hesitation. He raised his hand, preparing to knock once more, then lowered it several inches and turned to Fritz.
“Giving help isn’t a reason, is it?”
“No, not inherently,” Fritz admitted. “Maybe if you were coming offering lots of gold, or trading something the mages cared about, that would be a different story. Requests for charity do not open the door, though. You can draw your own conclusions as to why.”
Grumph nodded, turning back to the door. “And no lying?”
“No lying. Whatever you tell the door, it must both be a valid reason to open as well as be true in your heart. If either part is lacking, that door won’t budge.”
A long moment of silence passed through the alcove as Grumph stared at the door. Despite his seemingly impassive features, Gabrielle had known her friend long enough to sense when he was giving an issue exceptional thought. His brow furrowed slightly, and his bottom lip pulled back less than an inch, revealing a slight glimpse at his wide, sharp teeth. Though she didn’t know exactly what he was thinking, she had a hunch that he was trying to find a piece of truth in himself. Saying they wanted Grumph to join the guild to get in the door had been one thing, but now it wasn’t something they’d be able to fake. He had to decide for himself if that was something he could truly find reason to want.
Finally, Grumph reared back his arm and slammed it into the door, this time far harder than the first. As he struck, his stony, half-orc voice roared out, stating his business with such ferocity that anyone nearby might have mi
staken it for a declaration of war.
“My name is Grumph, and I am a wizard! I have come to become more powerful, in hopes that I will never again be helpless while a friend dies. I will study under the mages’ guild and learn all that you can teach. Open this door, for I have come to join!”
His words hung heavy in the air, lingering like lost dreams moments after waking. For an instant, it seemed nothing would happen, that all their work had been for nothing. Then, torturously slow, the door’s knob began to twist to the right.
“Good job, Grumph. I think you pulled it off,” Fritz said. “Welcome to the Guild of Illustrious Mages.”
Chapter 17
Grumph was not an easy half-orc to surprise or impress. His travels and life, even before meeting Thistle, had taken him to strange, unexpected places on more than one occasion. Deep down, he considered himself to be worldly; at least, worldly compared to the companions he’d made throughout his life—ones who’d never so much as crossed an ocean, let alone the entirety of their landmass. So he was neither shocked nor taken aback by the vast, cavernous hall they found themselves walking through. Nor was he stricken with amazement when the floating lanterns before them began to light themselves, or when the runes in the floor started glowing, guiding them along their path. None of it surprised Grumph, but he was still able to gaze upon the magic in pure wonder as it occurred. To be ready for the curiosities of the world and yet still be able to marvel at them was something Grumph prided himself on, and there was so very much worthy of being marveled at as their footsteps echoed through the impossibly vast hall.
“If I’m being honest, this sort of makes your spells look pretty crappy by comparison,” Gabrielle said, turning briefly to Grumph as her head spun around, constantly taking in the new sights of their surroundings. Vast, intricate tapestries were hung along the walls, showing massive battles as well as simple men sitting around work stations.
