by Chris Cannon
She heard a muffled sound. Producing a fireball, she crawled toward the noise. Boots, she saw black leather boots at the end of jean-clad legs. Needing more light, she made the fireball bigger.
Valmont lay on his side with his hands tied behind his back. He was gagged, but his eyes—his eyes were open, and he was staring at her with a mixture of fear and rage. She removed the gag.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“For the most part.” She untied his hands. “What about you?”
He sat up rubbing his wrists. “I’m furious, but I’ll live.”
“Tell me you still have your sword.” It was hard to tell in the dim light of her fireball.
He reached down to his side. “I do.”
“Thank goodness. Get this freaking Tyrant’s Crown off my head.”
“Make your flame bigger so I can see what I’m doing.” Valmont unsheathed his sword and pressed it against the metal band. “I’m ready.”
Bryn reached up and slid her finger down the blade. She knew when the blood hit the crown because it felt like worms were crawling up her face. It was creepy and it itched, and if she ever found who did this to her, she was going to rip their throats out.
“This might hurt.” Valmont lifted up on the crown. It felt like the damn thing had tiny claws in her skin and was refusing to let go. When he finally pulled it free, blood trickled down her forehead.
“Are you all right?” Valmont put his arm around her shoulders and wiped her forehead with his sleeve.
“Much better.” She leaned her head against his chest and took a deep breath. The scent of dust and spices made her cough. “Where are we?” She produced a larger fireball in her left hand so they could check out their surroundings. “And where are Clint and Ivy?”
They were in a room lined with shelves and cabinets. It looked like someone had ransacked the place, grabbing everything they could carry and leaving broken wooden boxes and dried herbs in their wake. There was a library table and chairs in the corner.
“Are there any candles?” Valmont asked.
Bryn investigated and found a wall sconce with a short fat candle. She lit it and then wiped off the mirror behind it. The light reflected across the room to two more candles.
“This looks like one of the rooms from the vault. Do you think we’re in a room no one has discovered yet?”
“That would be my guess.” Valmont pointed at a large wooden armoire. “Why is that cabinet the only one still closed?”
“Good question.” Bryn crossed the stone floor, threading her way through the mess. She yanked the door open. The inside was like an empty closet, but a seam of light ran down the back wall. That was weird. “I think this might be a door.”
Valmont joined her and peered into the closet. “Allow me.” He reached in and pushed on the back panel, which moved about an inch before catching on something.
“It must be latched from the other side,” Bryn said.
“Bryn, Valmont, is that you?” Ivy’s voice came through the opening.
“Yes,” Bryn said. “Are you guys all right?”
“We’re not the ones stuck in a closet,” Clint said. “Give us a minute and we’ll get you out.”
“This is a door between our rooms, disguised as a cabinet,” Bryn said. “Step back and I’ll blast through the door.”
“Go ahead.” Clint’s voice came from far away.
Bryn inhaled a measured amount of air and shot a small, controlled stream of fire at the back wall until she burned a hole through the center. Then she doused the fire with snow.
Clint and Ivy sat at a library table. Ivy was holding her elemental sword while Clint held a ball of lightning. They both wore Tyrant’s Crowns.
“Besides wearing the crowns from hell, are you both okay?” Bryn asked.
“We’re both emotionally traumatized from these evil creations.” Clint pointed at Valmont. “Please tell me you can take them off.”
“We removed Bryn’s, so we should be able to take care of yours.”
Bryn and Valmont performed the Blood Magic ritual for Ivy and then for Clint.
“Thank you,” Ivy said. “I never realized I could feel claustrophobic in my own body.”
Bryn noticed Ivy was cradling her arm to her chest. “Are you hurt?”
“Yes, but nothing is as bad as those crowns. I thought I’d hyperventilate before Clint talked me down.”
“I know the feeling.” Bryn pointed at Ivy’s arm. “What’s going on there?”
“I got slammed into the wall pretty good, but so did you.” Ivy grimaced. “Sonic waves suck.”
“Want me to see if I can fix it?” Bryn asked.
Valmont pointed at one of the chairs. “Why don’t you sit and heal your own injuries before you heal Ivy’s.”
“If they were really bad, I would’ve taken care of them already,” Bryn said. “Let me help her.”
“Nope.” Ivy shook her head. “You first.”
“It’s three against one, in case you were wondering.” Clint pointed at the chair.
“Fine.” Bryn sat and closed her eyes. She imagined Quintessence flowing to her shoulder and taking the pain away. Once that was taken care of, she focused on her ribs. Fixing bone seemed to take more effort than healing cuts, but her pain faded. She opened her eyes and waved Ivy over. “Come here.”
Ivy pointed to her forearm. “I’m afraid it might be fractured.”
Crap. That was new territory. “I can heal myself easier than someone else because I can sense the injuries inside my body. With you, I’m going to focus Quintessence into your arm and hopefully, it will know where to go to fix the bone. If anything feels wrong, tell me and I’ll stop.”
“Got it.”
Bryn laid her hand on Ivy’s arm and imagined Quintessence flowing out her fingertips.
Five minutes later, Ivy said, “That’s better. You can stop.”
“Okay,” Valmont said. “Let’s figure out where we are.”
“The books in this room are about mining and plants,” Ivy said.
“This can’t be an Orange room,” said Bryn, “because there aren’t any Orange knights.”
“We don’t know that,” Valmont said. “The dragons who attacked us could have been hybrids or Oranges.”
“Do you think there could be knights we don’t know about?” Clint asked.
“After kidnapping George, and losing two men, the Rebels could have decided it would’ve been easier to make their own knights rather than steal someone else’s.” Valmont glanced around the room. “Since there aren’t any more cabinet doorways, we need to figure out another exit.”
“Let’s try Blood Magic first, Bryn said.
Valmont drew his sword, and placed it against the wall opposite the closet door. Bryn slid her pointer finger down the blade. When the blood hit the wall, nothing happened.
He moved the sword over a few feet and they tried again, methodically working their way around the room. When no doors appeared, they went back to the room they woke up in and tried there. Again, no luck.
A tickle started in Bryn’s throat. She tried to clear it but ended up coughing. Must be the dust. She needed a glass of water. Or, she needed something to use as a cup. Seeing nothing that she’d want to drink out of, she exhaled snow into her hand and then took a bite, letting it melt in her mouth.
“Is that the same thing as drinking your own spit?” Clint asked.
Bryn laughed. “I don’t know, but I’m willing to share if anyone else is thirsty.”
“No thanks,” Ivy said. “Blood Magic didn’t work. What’s our next step?”
“I think it’s my turn,” Clint said. “I’m going to try blasting through a wall.”
“We’ll stay out of your way.” Bryn sat at the table with Valmont and Ivy.
Ka-boom-boom-boom.
The lightning blast echoed through the room and shook Bryn and the chair she sat in. Mortar dust drifted through the air.
“I’m not
sure that did any good,” Clint said. “But I bet someone upstairs heard the noise. Hopefully, they’ll come investigate.”
“Do it again,” Bryn said.
Ka-boom-boom-boom.
Bryn’s teeth rattled with the blast.
Valmont clapped his hands over his ears. When the noise stopped, he shook his head. “Someone had to hear it.”
“How long should I wait between blasts?” Clint asked.
“Maybe we should stick to a pattern so they’ll know when to expect the next round,” Ivy said.
“Like a song?” Clint grinned. “See if you recognize this one.”
Kaboom-boom Kaboom-boom Kaboom-boom Kaboom.
Kaboom-boom Kaboom-boom Kaboom-boom Kaboom.
It took Bryn a minute to catch on. “Is that Twinkle Twinkle Little Star?”
“Yes.” Clint grinned. “I thought about going with Jingle Bells, but I think this one works better.” He repeated the blasts in the same rhythm, and then they waited.
“That wall is looking a little worse for wear.” Valmont walked over, placed his palms flat on the stone and shoved. The stone blocks under his right hand gave, moving in an inch.
Bryn joined him at the wall. “Maybe we won’t need anyone to rescue us.” She pushed against the stone blocks, and they gave a little more.
“Be careful,” Ivy said. “You don’t want the wall coming down on top of you.”
“Good point.” Bryn walked back over to the table. “Help me put this against the wall, so if it collapses, it won’t land on us.”
Valmont put the short end of the rectangle against the wall and stood at the other end. Bryn joined him. “On three. One. Two. Three.”
On three they pushed, and the stone wall groaned. “Again,” Bryn said. They counted down and pushed the wall four more times before one of the stones by the ceiling broke loose and crashed down on the table, breaking it in half.
“I’m glad that wasn’t one of our heads,” Valmont said.
Breathing heavy but trying not to show it, Bryn grabbed half of the table and pushed it out of the way. Valmont took care of the other half.
“Stand back and let me handle the rest of it,” Clint said. “I can clear a path without worrying about the debris.”
“Good idea.” Bryn backed up.
“And I might as well stick with Twinkle Twinkle while I do it.”
Kaboom-boom Kaboom-boom Kaboom-boom Kaboom.
Kaboom-boom Kaboom-boom Kaboom-boom Kaboom.
On the last blast, the wall gave way. Blocks of stone crumbled and tumbled outward creating a mini landslide. Mortar dust filled the air like smog. Bryn covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve in an attempt to block the dust. As the haze settled, she moved toward the new exit they’d created, with Valmont by her side.
He grabbed her arm. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“Good plan.” She produced a fireball in her right hand and held it high, because the area beyond the wall was cloaked in darkness. Leaning out of the opening, she peered to the left and then to the right. “We need more light.” She increased the size of the fireball.
“It’s a hallway,” Valmont said. “So, we have two choices, left or right. Which direction should we go?”
“We’ll need to see where we’re going. The candles don’t give off much light. We should make some torches,” Clint said.
Valmont walked back into the room and grabbed the broken table, breaking off one of the legs near the base. Then he picked up a tattered book. “I’d never encourage book burning, but in this case, it seems appropriate.” He shoved the skinny end of the table leg through the binding of the book and then held it out to Bryn. “Your turn.”
She touched the pages of the book and sent a blast of fire through her palm. The pages smoldered before catching fire. Clint and Ivy made their own torches in the same manner.
“Valmont and I will go first. You guys can guard us from sneak attacks.”
“Because as we learned earlier,” Clint said, “those really suck.”
“Yes, they do.” Bryn held a fireball in her right hand and strained to see farther down the hallway as they moved forward. The hall ended in a T intersection. “Left or right?” Bryn asked.
“Let’s go right,” said Valmont.
They came to another T intersection a few minutes later.
“Left this time,” Bryn said. “Just to keep us from accidentally walking in circles.”
“Hold on a minute.” Clint pulled the deck of cards from his back pocket shuffled them around. “I’m going to put them in order from ace to king. I’ll leave an ace here. That way if we come back we’ll know it’s one of the first hallways we investigated.” He took the ace and wedged it between two stones on the wall.
“Good idea.”
They continued walking. Whenever they came to an intersection, Clint left a card. By the time they were on the nine of hearts, the air seemed less stale.
“Does it seem like we’ve been moving slightly uphill?” Ivy asked.
“I don’t know.” Valmont inhaled. “But the musty smell is gone.”
Both of those were positives. Or they would be, if they could find a door out of this place.
“I’m starting to think we aren’t under the library,” Ivy said. “I just don’t think there’d be this many hallways. And if we’d been placed in rooms guarded by magic, could we have broken out?”
“The magic keeps people from finding the rooms, but I don’t know if it keeps people from leaving the rooms,” Bryn said.
“We’ve been missing for what, about an hour now?” Ivy said.
Clint nodded. “That’s what it feels like, but we were unconscious when they stuck us in there. Who knows how long we were out?”
“I never thought about that,” Bryn said. “But setting that tree on fire and shooting fireballs and lightning into the air would have had to attract some attention. Someone should be looking for us.”
“I hope it’s your grandfather,” Ivy said. “Because he won’t stop until he finds you.”
The hall they were walking down curved to the right.
“Did you hear that?” Clint asked.
They all froze. Bryn closed her eyes and listened. There was a pattern to the noise. The thunk of metal against stone, over and over again.
“It sounds like shoveling. Where is it coming from?” Bryn moved forward a few feet and listened again. It sounded fainter.
“Maybe I should make some noise,” Clint said, “so they know where we are.”
“Go for it,” Valmont said.
Ka-boom-boom-boom. Ka-boom-boom-boom.
As the sound of thunder faded, Bryn listened. The shoveling sounded like it was closer.
Valmont moved to stand next to her. “Where’s that coming from?”
Dust sifted down onto Bryn’s head. She looked up. A crack appeared in the ceiling above her head. “Shift!” She shouted to warn her friends as she shifted and launched herself sideways, taking Valmont down to the floor and covering him protectively with her wings.
Debris rained down. Someone growled. Another person screamed. Heavy objects smacked into Bryn’s back and bounced off her scales. She’d be bruised, but the stone couldn’t penetrate her hide.
“Bryn?” her grandfather yelled.
“Over here.”
“It safe to shift back,” another voice yelled.
Valmont lay on his side curled in a ball. “Are you all right?” she asked.
He coughed and sat up. “I think so.”
She shifted back to human form. Her eyes watered, and she coughed.
“Everyone close your eyes,” a voice that sounded like Miss Enid called out.
Bryn did as instructed and a light wind blew past her carrying grit that scratched her skin. After a moment, the grit was gone. “Now we should be able to see,” Miss Enid said.
The first thing Bryn saw was her grandfather stalking toward her. Before she could get out a word, he hugged her. She hugg
ed him back hard. “Thank you for finding us.”
He released her and stepped back, regaining his composure. “How in the world did you end up three stories under the library?”
“The quick version is we interrupted Orange dragons who were doing something on the back corner of the library. They knocked us out with their sonic waves, and we woke up in a room without doors. We blasted our way out, and we’ve been walking ever since.”
“Did you intentionally set the tree on fire?” her grandfather asked.
“Yes. Once I realized we couldn’t beat them, I tried to signal for help.”
“Smart move,” her grandfather said. “You can fill in the details once we’re above ground.”
“I don’t suppose there’s an elevator nearby,” Valmont joked.
“We should be able to fly up one floor, and walk from there.” Miss Enid said. “We’ll have someone come reinforce the openings later and build proper stairs so we can investigate.”
Bryn shifted back to dragon form and moved her tail around so Valmont could use it as a step. “One winged elevator at your service.”
He grinned and climbed on, settling between her wings. She felt a rush of warmth as the power of the dragon-knight bond flared between them. Watching her step, she threaded her way between the broken stones and then pushed off, aiming for the opening in the ceiling. She used a little too much oomph and had to shoot her wings out wide to keep from smashing her head and her rider into the ceiling of the next room.
“You could use some work on that maneuver,” Valmont teased.
“Sorry.” She stood off to the side as Clint and Ivy hopped up through the opening. As the others came up, she checked out the room they stood in. It looked exactly like the hallway below. Weird.
“You can shift back.” Her grandfather shifted and led them down the hall and up a forty-five degree incline to another hallway and up another ramp until they came to a set of stairs which led them to what Bryn recognized as the hallway leading into the main vault room with the card catalog.
“Please tell me we don’t have to climb three flights of stairs to tell you our story,” Bryn said.
Her grandfather stopped. “What if I promise you food in my office?”
