“No, this can’t be happening. I’ve got to get out—now!”
Frantically, Rich conjured up a pickax like he had seen in an old Western movie. He tried to pick it up, but found it too heavy for one hand. He then conjured up a jackhammer, but realized he needed electricity. He thought about bringing up a generator, but realized he couldn’t picture what one looked like.
He briefly toyed with the idea of making a bit of dynamite appear, but immediately feared it might as easily bury him as free him. His adrenaline wore off, replaced by a cloud of despair.
“There’s got to be another way,” Rich said. “Why is there a path down here, anyway?”
A shimmer ran down the blade, and ended with a bright flash when it reached the tip. “You know, I do remember something. Something I haven’t thought of in a long time. My mind has been clouded, you see. I mean, I really am possessed of a superior mind and intelligence …”
“Just tell me,” Rich said. “The sooner we can leave this place, the better.”
“It’s just that I think I remember this place. Both the Nemes and the Palads have safe houses they can use in case they’re in a pinch and need to get away quickly. There’s always a hidden passage back to the council room. I think this is one of them.”
Rich thought of how many times he’d come to this very same spot in the woods. He had always felt strangely safe here, and now he had an idea why.
“Did you see anything weird on the way down? Chances are, the hidden passage would be just off the main path.”
Rich thought of his initial descent, and all at once, a picture of the strange stone formation he’d seen on the way down crossed his mind. “Yes, I think I know just the place.”
He followed the trail down the short way until he found the spot he’d seen. In keeping with his rotten luck, the formation was blocked by a pile of rubble.
Rich kicked the nearest pile with a frustrated grunt. Then he clamped his eyes shut and imagined a marvelous stone-slinging device that ran on nothing but air and lifted even the largest stones with ease. The air shimmered before him, but nothing happened. Before he could think, he lashed out with his other foot, badly stubbing his toe.
“Your input would be appreciated right now.”
The sword glowed only faintly. “Master, for all my superior intelligence, I’m not a mason. Perhaps you still have other options you’ve not explored.”
Rich sighed and closed his eyes again.
He couldn’t blow up the barrier, and he couldn’t use most tools with his injured arm. Rich found himself wishing that he knew far more about his newly discovered powers. It was obvious that there were rules and limitations, but what? Anyone who could tell him anything was separated from him by a thick layer of rock.
He sat cross-legged in front of the pile, mentally willing it to just go away. His hunger caught up with him again, so he tried summoning up an apple. He thought about it in front of him, and he realized that it actually appeared on the spot of ground right where he had imagined it.
The thought struck him that he might be able to move the rocks in an unconventional way. He closed his eyes and pictured a slide, the metal kind you might find at a playground, though much longer, appearing right under the pile of rubble. At first, he met a kind of resistance. Undeterred, Rich focused all his thoughts on the place, and the slide appeared.
A pile of rocks flew outwards to make room for the slide, and gravity helped the others down and off into space. The slide effectively cleared a path down the middle, and Rich thought he might be able to squeeze his way into the place where the secret passage might be. He walked over cautiously and studied the space. The slide was definitely in the way and would have to go.
The slide disappeared, and after one last shifting of rocks, Rich could just make out two strange handprints in the rock. He crept forward over the rubble and placed his hands in the slots. However, instead of the wall sliding away as it had in his grandmother’s closet, the floor abruptly fell out from under him, sending him careening down a different slide of smooth stone. He landed only a few seconds later on something soft, though he was still too shocked to register what had happened.
He had landed in a narrow chamber with barely enough room to extend his arms out in both directions. Below him lay a thick bolt of drab cloth, which had cushioned his fall, and before him was a painting depicting a familiar scene.
It was the long table again, just like he had seen in his grandmother’s closet, though from a different angle. Instead of having a view of the entire length of the table, he instead looked at it from the far end, as if he was sitting at the head. His grandmother still sat in her customary seat. A number of other knights milled about her, though only one or two were actually sitting. Rich recognized Aaron hunched next to his grandmother, his face wearing an expression of worry so intense that it made Rich’s conscience sting.
Rich continued to study the painting, and glanced down to find the chessboard he knew would be there. There was, however, no illuminated space on the board to mark where to place his piece.
“Hey, Zahn, is there any special trick to this? Do I have to say a magic word or something?”
“No,” Zahn said. “I think you just need to find the correct place for your piece. It has always been that way, though it often changes to throw people off. It might not be very obvious.”
“Couldn’t I place it on each space on the board, and eventually, I’ll hit the right spot? I mean, some squares already have pieces on them.”
“You could try it, but I think you’ll only do it once.”
Confused, Rich withdrew his piece and touched it to a random spot on the canvas. His hand jerked back, bursting with pain. It was like touching a burner on an electric stove turned up to full power.
“Okay, got it. I’d like to keep my fingers.”
“Yes,” Zahn said. “The next one will be worse.”
Rich took a deep breath and ran his fingers over the board. They twitched in anticipation. He started at the top left corner and scanned the surface with his fingers as if following lines on a page. However, when he reached the bottom right corner, he was no closer to his goal than before.
“Maybe they sealed this one up. They could do that, couldn’t they? Don’t you know what to do here?”
“Perhaps they did seal it,” said the sword. “I would help you more if I could, but I’m not sure. In my time, I was an excellent marksman because of my keen eye. I’ve often wondered why I didn’t turn into a crossbow. On one occasion at the royal fair…”
Rich’s eyes glazed over as he listened to Zahn drone on about his archery feats, and the colors of the painting all ran together. He blinked hard and looked at the board again, for the first time considering the position of the pieces.
I knew I shouldn’t have said no to chess club.
His mind scrambled, trying to piece together the rules of chess. Maybe he needed to try to win.
I know you’re supposed to trap the king, a pawn doesn’t really have much it can do.
He hovered his pawn over the first empty space and considered the moves around it. Nothing. He moved onto the next, and the next, the rules coming back to him a little at a time.
Then he saw it—an unobtrusive space where even a pawn might make the difference because of the placement of the other powerful pieces around it. He checked the board and considered all the moves the black king might make.
I think that’s it.
Bracing himself for another burn, he reached out and dropped the piece onto the space.
Instead of a burning sensation, he instantly found himself at Aaron’s side, his finger now planted firmly on Aaron’s actual face. Both
boys jumped back in surprise, paused, and burst into laughter.
“Rich, it’s good to see you!”
Rich looked Aaron over and did a double take. His friend still wore the same robes of the scribe and clutched the quill pen in one hand.
“That was you?” Rich said. “It was awesome!”
Their laughter, however, quickly subsided as Minerva fixed them both with her penetrating gaze. They slunk down into chairs on either side of her.
“I don’t need to tell you how close we came to defeat today. You are both fortunate to be standing here at all. If the nemesis had been successful in defeating Heinrich, he surely would have come for you, Aaron.”
Aaron swallowed hard and nodded without another word. Rich bowed his head and felt his stomach jump around. His arm throbbed with pain, which spread through the rest of his body.
“I’m sorry,” Rich said. “I let myself get carried away again. Maybe you should keep me locked up or something. It would be better than messing up every step of the way.”
Minerva’s gaze softened, and she placed a hand on his knee. “It’s not expected that you’ll never mess up, Heinrich. It’s only expected that you won’t invite more trouble than absolutely necessary. Thankfully, you’re alive and are ready for the next step.”
Rich looked up. “The next step? What?” He tried to force a confident smile, but failed.
“You must confront your nemesis and defeat it.”
Rich sighed, letting the air rush out. “Oh, is that all? I mean, that’s already happened once today. Might as well try it again.”
Minerva’s face hardened. “Heinrich, this is serious. Your nemesis should have finished you off today. You’re lucky to be alive, and should at least show some proper gratitude.”
Rich shrunk down into his seat like a wilting flower and clamped his mouth shut. Perhaps he wouldn’t say anything else stupid. He nodded and looked for his grandmother to continue.
“Perhaps ‘confront’ is the wrong word. Our family takes great pains never to be the aggressor. You can be sure that though your nemesis has experienced a temporary setback, it will come after you again as soon as possible. It will probably try to weaken you first by leading you to do foolish things, but that all depends on how patient it is. Once it attacks, it will not stop until it is defeated or it defeats you.”
Rich inched a bit taller in his chair, though not daring to sit up completely straight. “Uh, when you say ‘defeat,’ do you mean ‘kill’? I mean, isn’t my nemesis a person?”
“Yes,” Minerva replied. “It is an intelligent being. They are surely descended from humans, but in the meantime, they have become something quite apart. Our family line has managed to maintain our humanity to a much greater degree.”
She paused and leaned forward, knowing that she had not yet touched his real question, “And no, you do not necessarily have to kill your nemesis. You simply have to get it to admit defeat. That’s not as easy as it may sound.”
Rich slumped down again and chewed on his lip. She didn’t have to tell him twice.
“It’s not enough for them to say ‘I give up,’ either,” Aaron said. “They have to give you something of theirs as a trophy—a weapon, a piece of armor, something.”
“Once you have that, bring it back here, and you will be presented to the council. As long as they are all agreed, you will be made a full-fledged paladin.”
Rich smiled despite himself. He briefly caught an image of himself in his mind’s eye, kneeling before the council and being dubbed a knight. It was almost too good to be true, even for his vivid imagination.
“And then,” Rich said, “we can go after my parents?”
“That will certainly be the first order of business,” Minerva said. “But do not think about that yet. You have seen what happens when you get distracted.”
Unconsciously, Rich’s hand moved to his injured arm. “Isn’t there anything we can do about my arm? I don’t like the thought of fighting with a disadvantage like this.”
Minerva bent and whispered something to Aaron. He disappeared for a moment and returned, accompanied by a man in a hooded white robe. Despite an impressive shock of white hair, the man’s face was smooth and youthful. As he approached, Rich saw that he wore a talisman containing a white bishop chess piece around his neck.
He walked toward Rich and extended large, smooth hands. “Hello, Heinrich. My name is Elzesor. Let me see the wound,” he said, taking the arm in both hands. He studied it for a moment with large, dark eyes, his features expressionless.
Rich held his breath and lifted his sleeve, revealing skin riddled with dark patterns, as if an insane tattoo artist had attacked his arm.
Elzesor gazed unblinking for a few moments longer and then shook his head. “It doesn’t look promising, young man. This was done by one of the worst Nemes curses. I can give you something to help with the pain, though I am afraid the actual symptoms will be harder to treat.”
“Symptoms? What sort of symptoms?”
“Hmm. It’s hard to say. Certainly pain and discomfort, but these sorts of things can have certain unpredictable side effects as well. It might cause you to black out or suddenly feel nauseated. It might even meddle with your moods, making you intensely angry or afraid, even producing nightmares. In any case, I think you should be watched very closely.”
Elzesor switched his gaze to Aaron, and an unspoken understanding passed between them. “I will do what I can to devise a remedy. I must speak to my colleagues first at the Bishops’ Guild. Perhaps there is someone who knows more than I.”
Elzesor reached into the folds of his robes and drew out what looked like a few berries. “Here. Place these under your tongue and let them dissolve. They will help with the pain and work on purifying your system.”
Rich took the berries and did as he was told. They tasted mildly sweet under his tongue and filled his body with a strangely tingling sensation. They took only a minute to dissolve, and he felt much better already.
Elzesor reached out and deposited another handful of berries in Rich’s hand. “Now, don’t take these too often,” he admonished. “No more than once a day. Any more than that, and you’ll start losing your grip on reality. Don’t make me regret giving you so many. They’re precious.”
Rich nodded and stashed the berries in his pocket. He’d have to find a better place for them when he got home because he knew he’d give into the temptation to pop another in his mouth.
“Thank you,” he said to Elzesor, who nodded and stepped away. Rich turned his attention back to Minerva. “What do I need to do now? Should I do some sort of sword training? I didn’t really get a chance to go hand-to-hand with my nemesis, but I don’t think I can match what he was doing.”
Minerva looked at him through sunken eyes. “You must remember what you’ve been taught. In the end, if you rely only on your sword, you are doomed. Remember what gives you your power, and from now until the confrontation, concentrate on building that up any way that you can.”
She motioned for them to rise. “You must go now. I know you still have questions, but once in a while, it’s good for you to think about them yourself a while longer before asking others to solve them for you.”
She placed a hand on each boy’s back and led them down a hallway at the end of the room. They reached a broad wooden door, and Minerva turned and embraced her grandson. “Good luck, Rich. You have a rough road ahead of you, but just know that I believe in you. We all do.”
Rich held his grandmother for a moment and then stepped back. A lump had formed in his throat, and it was all he could do to keep his emotions from spilling over. “I won’t let you down. I won’t … let our family down.”
&nb
sp; “I know. Your nemesis offered you many things, and you stayed true to us. That’s wisdom you don’t often find in a teenager.”
The door swung open and revealed the clutter of his grandmother’s closet. They turned to go, and Minerva stopped him one last time, “And take care of that sword, Heinrich. He’ll always take care of you.”
Chapter 7: Dominating the Dishes
Rich and Aaron crept out of the room as quietly as they could, and Aaron scouted ahead to make sure Laura was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t want to have to explain if someone caught them. Rich glanced down and realized he wasn’t wearing a watch.
“What time is it?” he whispered.
“That’s not one of my abilities, Rich. It seems the sun is setting, though.”
Rich glanced out the window and saw that it was true. He must have been gone for several hours. “See if my aunt or cousins are around.”
“I’ll be back,” Aaron said. “You should stay here.”
Rich was finished protesting for the day. It was amazing that Aaron didn’t seem to hate him after what he’d done. Rich turned to say something to him, but he was already out of sight.
While he was waiting, he unstrapped his sword and spoke softly. “Hey, Zahn, people around here might not be used to the idea of a talking sword. Would you mind staying quiet until I tell you it’s all right?”
The sword shimmered. “Yes, I’m quite good at that. I’ve actually gone entire years without a single sound. In fact, there was this one time …”
“Great,” Rich said. “I get it. You don’t have to top your previous record or anything.”
Rich waited nervously in the cluttered bedroom and glanced around at the piles of junk to distract himself from everything that was bothering him. His eyes fell on a dusty letter written on yellowing paper with neat rows of precise handwriting. He bent down and picked it up, and squinted to make out the words.
My Dearest,
Thinking of you from far away. The nights are indeed lonely without you, but the days are so full of activity that it keeps my mind off things. Thankfully, this time I have good tidings to report. We’ve located one of the master keys, one that should grant us extensive access within the Corridor. It’s now only a matter of retrieving it from those who guard it, but I think it’s quite a foregone conclusion. You know our son. He’s the bravest of the brave and the brightest of the bright. I sometimes wonder where he obtained these qualities, and must conclude that it was through no effort on my part. Must be your side of the family.
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