Metal and Magic: A Fantasy Journey

by Steve Windsor

  And above all, why was someone trying to destroy the Lair? Did the teachers have dangerous enemies, or was the vandal just a rogue lunatic?

  As the tunnel wound deeper into the earth, Tristan grew cold, sweat turning to ice on his neck. He set his jaw and tried to ignore the seeping chill.

  The spidery globe of Delairium seemed to shine brighter than ever from the door of the locked room; Tristan stopped beside the door for a moment and pressed his ear to the crack, listening. He heard nothing but his own unsteady breathing. Letting out a deep breath, he unclenched his fists. Whatever Evvie or the vandal had planned, it wasn’t happening yet. Somewhat reassured, he picked up his pace and hurried on to the room guarded by the Prasidimum.

  At the familiar door, Tristan pocketed the marble and leaned back against the wall to wait. Already his frantic anticipation was beginning to drain away; he was no longer sure that Evvie hadn’t simply gone for a walk in the forest. She could be working off punishment with Merridy, or maybe she was sick. Wishing the Prasidimum didn’t cut off all sound from inside the room, Tristan folded his arms and scowled at the darkness. In the ballroom far above, Leila and Rusty had likely just finished showing their labeled bandages to Grindlethorn. They would be climbing the stairs to Botany now, rejoicing in the sun and the brilliantly blue sky.

  Tristan shivered.

  Unlike before, Tristan had barely settled in to wait for Evvie when the door creaked open. He gave a start and nearly fell over. Holding his breath, he fumbled for a new marble and set it to track Evvie again. As the person began walking forward, footsteps crunching softly, the marble stayed motionless in front of the door—unless Tristan had messed up the spell, this person was someone new, not Evvie at all. There was a brief silence as the stranger stopped to light a lamp; in the sudden glow, Tristan recognized Merridy’s tight bun and narrow shoulders.

  For a moment he stood frozen, one hand stretched towards his floating marble. He couldn’t decide whether to follow Merridy or wait for Evvie. Either way, what could the two of them possibly be doing down here?

  As the bobbing light disappeared around the corner, Tristan made up his mind to wait for Evvie. He could always set his marble to track Merridy if Evvie took too long to appear.

  Soon the door opened a second time. Evvie crept forward, raising a softly glowing lamp. Holding his breath, Tristan pressed his back to the wall. Evvie was looking behind her, watching something at waist height that was invisible behind the Prasidimum barrier.

  A moment later two children followed Evvie into the tunnel. They were very small, and they were holding hands. The little boy had his thumb in his mouth.

  Startled, Tristan lowered his hand and took a step backwards.

  Evvie whirled; she’d heard his tentative footstep. “Tristan!” she yelled. “You—god, Tristan, you ruin everything! I should’ve—gah!” She made a fist and shook it at his nose.

  Tristan raised his hands quickly and backed away. “Evvie, I’m not trying to hurt you or—or your kids.”

  Evvie glared at him.

  “Just explain what you’ve been up to. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks now, and Drakewell thinks I’m the vandal, and I was this close to turning you in.”

  “You what?”

  “Tell me what the hell you’re doing,” Tristan said, looking from the little dark-haired boy to the blonde girl at his side. They were probably only four or five. He had the strangest feeling he’d seen them before, though he’d had no idea they existed.

  “Why on earth would I tell you anything?” Evvie asked shrilly. “You just said you’d report me, or—”

  “Drakewell hates me,” Tristan said flatly. “I was only going to report you because I thought you were the vandal, and I think the vandal is about to try destroying this place.”

  Evvie shifted uncomfortably, and Tristan’s suspicions returned.

  “You don’t know who the vandal is, do you?” he asked sharply. “Because whoever it is, they might kill everyone in the Lair if they’re not careful.”

  “We go now?” the little girl asked, grabbing Evvie’s sleeve with one small hand.

  Evvie bent down and put a hand on the girl’s cheek. “Really soon. Don’t worry, we’ll still have time. I’ll get you away safely, I promise.”

  “Why is it all dark?” the boy asked, tugging on the girl’s hand.

  “Mommy said it’s a dragon cave.”

  Suddenly Tristan remembered—he had seen these children in Evvie’s sketchbook. The drawing had made him think of Marcus.

  “Why are the kids in danger?” Tristan asked Evvie. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  Evvie sighed and handed her lamp to the girl, whose eyes widened in delight.

  “I’ll tell you if you shut up.”

  Tristan pressed his lips together and nodded.

  “Well,” Evvie said, “I found these kids hiding in a cave on my way back from Merridy’s first test, months and months ago. They lived in a tiny village up near here, but there was an avalanche, and a lot of the houses were crushed.” Evvie lowered her voice. “I think their parents were killed, but the kids went looking for them up in the cave. It’s how they survived.”

  Tristan thought back to that first test. Evvie had been one of the only students to find her way back unaided...and she’d gone missing the night she’d returned. “You said you were going to bed early,” he said slowly, “and I followed you...but you weren’t in the room. Were you down here, finding somewhere to hide the children?”

  Evvie nodded sharply. “Drakewell hates children, remember? If you say a word to him, he’ll—”

  The girl nudged Evvie’s side with her blonde head. “I count to two hundred now,” she said.

  “Already?” Evvie said, her face darkening. “We don’t have much time. Come on; we’ve got to leave now.”

  She took the girl’s tiny hand in hers and picked up the boy, who nestled his head against her shoulder.

  Evvie had already taken two steps away from Tristan when she stopped. Without turning, she said, “You—er—might want to get out of this place too. You’re right about the vandal.”

  “Are you serious?” Tristan said flatly. “You’re saying I should just abandon everyone and save my own neck?”

  This time Evvie turned. “Trust me, this place isn’t good. The teachers—they’ve been doing something horrible. The attacker is doing the right thing.” Her eyes were scared, but her mouth was set in a thin line.

  The little boy lifted his head from Evvie’s shoulder and stared at Tristan.

  “Damn you, Evvie!” Tristan shouted. “I’m not going to turn traitor on my friends! They’re the only family I’ve got.”

  Swallowing visibly, Evvie turned and began hurrying away, nearly dragging the girl along at her heels.

  “I don’t care about your stupid morals,” Tristan yelled after her. “I’m not letting everyone die!” He cursed loudly and snatched a marble as though readying to throw it at Evvie. Then she vanished around the corner, her light flickering away into darkness.

  Tristan lowered his fist, breathing hard. He was no closer to finding the vandal than before, though he knew what he had to do next. There wasn’t time to find everyone and convince them to leave the school. With a final glance at the Prasidimum-guarded doorway, he turned and broke into a run, following the threads of Delairium along the wall as he raced towards the room with the globe.

  His feet pounded along the rough stone. Would it be too late? How the hell was he supposed to get into the locked room? And when he did, what would he find?

  Suddenly a wall loomed in front of him; Tristan threw his hands out to stop himself. Legs tingling, he leaned against the rock and tried to catch his breath. For a frantic moment he thought he’d come the wrong way. Then he looked over his shoulder.

  There was the door, barely two paces behind him. The Delairium globe was as bright as ever. He didn’t know how he had missed it.

  Chest tight, Tristan crept forward and press
ed his ear to the door. He clutched a marble in his pocket, the cold orb digging into his palm.

  For a long time there was silence.

  The globe on the door glowed steadily, stark and thin in the blackness. Eventually Tristan’s racing heart slowed and he began to grow cold once again.

  At last there came a muffled scraping, magnified oddly in the space behind the door; it had to be a large chamber. The scrape was followed by a hollow clang so loud that Tristan didn’t need his ear to the door to hear it properly. He jumped back, staring wildly down the hall. The vandal was already at work, perhaps minutes away from killing everyone in the Lair.

  And Tristan was absolutely alone.

  CRASH!

  Tristan jumped, nearly dropping his marble. Something large had smashed to the ground inside the room, or maybe a piece of the wall had been blasted away. How much time did he have? His heartbeat sounded like the ticking of a bomb.

  For a moment Tristan couldn’t decide what to do; he bounced on the balls of his feet, tensed and ready to run. Then, with a curse, he lurched forward and slammed his fists against the door. “Someone come!” he called in desperation, though he knew there was no one around to hear. “Help!”

  His voice was drowned by a new series of crashes from the room, loud as an avalanche. Why didn’t I tell the others to get out? It had been reckless of him to think he could stop the attacker alone.

  Again Tristan slammed his fists on the door, this time throwing the weight of his shoulder against the wood as well. As he was about to hurl himself a third time against the glowing outline of Asia, something grabbed his shoulder.

  “Argh!” Tristan whirled, ready to strike at whoever had assaulted him.

  It was Leila.

  “Damn it!” he yelled. “What are you doing here, you idiot?” When he wrenched Leila’s hand from his shoulder and took a step back, he realized that Rusty was there as well, lurking in the shadows behind Leila.

  “Don’t lecture us,” Leila said in a hurried whisper. “We know that’s the vandal in there. Do you really think we’d let you do this on your own?”

  Tristan cursed and kicked at the wall.

  “So, how are you planning to get in there?” Rusty asked cheerfully. Leila’s lantern cast a strange glow on his face.

  Tristan rounded on him. “Guys, this is serious! Someone dangerous is in that room, and I’m pretty sure they’re a few seconds away from blowing up the Lair!”

  “Triss, calm down,” Leila snapped. “You’re the only one of us who can actually do magic, but you’re completely useless if you can’t concentrate.”

  Irritated, Tristan drew in a deep breath. At another loud crash he winced, though he quickly steadied himself and turned back to Leila and Rusty.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’m going to try unlocking this door by magic. You guys should leave. Run as fast as you can; maybe you’ll have time to warn the others.”

  Leila and Rusty shared a glance. “No, we’re gonna stay.”

  “There isn’t enough time,” Leila whispered.

  “Fine!” Tristan shouted. “Then get the hell out of my way!”

  There was another crash, louder than before, followed by a rushing sound like wind.

  Fighting his anger, Tristan dug for another marble. It couldn’t be too hard to unlock the door; if he concentrated enough heat on the lock, it should melt away. He was just having trouble concentrating.

  Shaking his head irritably, Tristan closed his eyes and imagined the first heavy bolt falling open. He would focus on each of the three locks separately, moving cautiously so the magic couldn’t slip out of control. This first lock was easy—once he broke through the padlock, the bolt would slide free.

  Please work.

  Tristan tightened his grip around the marble. Where was Evvie now, and how did she plan to sneak past the teachers? Did she know a secret entrance to the Lair?

  You’re not concentrating, whispered a voice at the back of his head.

  “I can’t do this,” Tristan muttered, mostly to himself.

  Neither Leila nor Rusty spoke. They were watching him with nervous trust, eyes gleaming in the lantern’s glow. It was their faith in him that spurred Tristan to try again. Frustrated, he pressed a fist to his forehead and closed his eyes, focusing every stray thought on the padlock.

  As reluctant as a spark in snow, the marble began to warm. Tristan let out a careful breath and released the marble. Eyes closed, he waited. He heard nothing but the continued crashes and scrapes echoing from within the room, so he opened his eyes.

  The lock was glowing red. To his amazement, the padlock appeared to be lengthening, all the while glowing brighter and brighter—suddenly it dropped free of the door, landing at his feet in a red-hot glob. It had melted away.

  Tristan almost laughed in relief. Rusty began to speak, but thankfully Leila clapped a hand over his mouth. Tristan couldn’t afford to lose his concentration.

  The next lock was set in the door handle; instead of trying to melt it away, he would have to focus on twisting through the gears. Tristan found another marble and closed his eyes, wishing he knew more about locks. If Eli were here, he’d probably be able to pick it without magic. Tristan was just guessing when he imagined the lock’s innards like a cavernous metal labyrinth, the rigid walls ready to slide apart if he exerted pressure in the right place.

  Tristan dropped the second marble, which was already so hot that it seared his palm. He waited two nervous heartbeats before opening his eyes.

  KABOOM!

  The wall exploded in a great fiery ball of light. Rocks flew from the wall, shattering and bursting in midair. The door splintered in half with a heaving crack. The glowing Delairium globe split along the western coast of Africa.

  Tristan stumbled backwards, throwing his hands over his head—his foot caught on a shard of rock and he crashed to the ground, stones slamming into him.

  Scrambling to his knees, Tristan tried to crawl away, but his right arm was smashed nearly senseless by a careening boulder. Leila and Rusty were screaming at him, their words lost in the tumult. Tristan barely made it two feet.

  With a rumble and a creak, a piece of the ceiling shifted and gave way. Tristan looked up just in time to see a rain of fist-sized boulders plunging towards his head. The darkness roared, and then everything faded. Tristan barely felt the impact.

  Chapter 21: The Map Room

  When Tristan struggled awake, everything began hurting at once. His head was close to splitting in two, and a splinter of fire was wedged along his spine. Shuddering, he bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood. As he managed to focus his wavering vision, he realized that he was still lying in the tunnel, surrounded by pale, blurred faces.

  “Hold still,” said a clipped voice somewhere near his left shoulder. It was Alldusk. A moment later the professor brought something cold to Tristan’s lips. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

  Gagging slightly, Tristan let his mouth fall open and gulped at the liquid that Alldusk tipped carefully down his throat. As he moved his face, he noticed that something had dried in a stiff line down his jaw.

  “Can you hear me, Triss?” Leila’s voice whispered. Shifting, Tristan saw that Leila knelt beside his head, clasping his left hand with both of hers. He hadn’t even felt her touch. Rusty stood nearby, watching nervously.

  “Why’d you come down here?” Tristan asked Alldusk, his voice slurring slightly. “You’re s’posed to be outside. It’s not safe.”

  “I should think not,” Alldusk said with a frown. “But the tunnel roof was stabilized by magic. It should not have come down.”

  Tristan struggled to sit up. “My—” he choked on a mouthful of dust “—my fault. I tried to break through the door. Vandal’s in there.” He gestured weakly at the splintered doorway.

  Already the medicine was easing Tristan’s pain, and as his thoughts cleared, his panic mounted. In the time he’d been unconscious, the vandal had likely blasted the room to pieces. Any moment now, th
e whole Lair would blow up.

  Alldusk straightened and tucked away the flask of white liquid. His knuckles were very white.

  “Has anyone seen Darla?” he asked shakily.

  Tristan almost shook his head. “Wait—I did see her earlier. Down in the tunnels. She came out of a dark room, and I hid in the shadows and let her go.”

  Alldusk barely let Tristan finish his sentence. He dove towards the splintered door and began heaving shards of wood out of the doorway. Tristan ducked as the piece of wood with Australia’s outline came hurtling towards his nose, and Rusty did a funny hop to the side to avoid being impaled by Japan. Alldusk continued to dig deeper and deeper, hurtling stone and wood like he’d gone crazy, until there was enough space for him to shove his way through.

  As the last rocks clattered to the floor, the room beyond exhaled a wave of musty, acrid rock dust. Tristan coughed again. When he recovered, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he got a brief glimpse of a cavernous, well-lit chamber. Then Alldusk threw himself into the opening and shouldered past the broken door.

  “What’re we supposed to do, huh?” Rusty asked, bending over to examine a splinter of wood. “I thought having a teacher here would be helpful and all.”

  When Alldusk toppled into the room, leaving the doorway gaping, the tunnel was washed with light. Blinking, Tristan took a deep breath. The particles of rock dust were already beginning to settle, clinging to his skin and caking the roof of his mouth.

  He’d made his decision when he had spoken to Evvie—no matter what immoral mission the teachers were trying to carry out, he had to stop the vandal if it cost him his life. If his friends died, he would have nothing left. There was no safe home, no loving family, waiting for him outside the walls of the Lair.

  Easing his hand out of Leila’s grasp, Tristan staggered to his feet. A new bolt of pain shot through him, and he leaned against the wall until his lightheadedness passed. “Please stay here,” he said, looking from Leila to Rusty. “You guys aren’t any good at magic; you’ll just be in my way.”