by J. T. Wright
“Step high, and don’t touch it.” Dreq started to crawl under the trap, and Trent stopped him with a boot. Lifting the Dog by the scruff of his neck, Trent set Dreq on the other side and stepped over himself.
He held out a hand to Felicia, who took it and lifted the hem of her robe to follow his example. Once she was safely across, he offered the same help to Kerry. Kerry tried to shrug off the hand that reached for him, but Trent’s fingers closed tightly on his elbow.
“The floor is slick.” Kerry nodded at the reminder and set his hand on Trent’s shoulder as he lifted a leg high. Trent winced when Kerry’s foot came perilously close to the wire but said nothing, keeping a steadying hand on Kerry’s arm.
Moving deeper inward, Trent’s unease grew. The tunnel was silent except for the drip of water and the padding of feet. The light from Felicia’s Spell seemed dimmer on the second floor. The grey stone soaked it up before it could travel far. An oppressive mood settled over the party, and even Dreq walked with wilted ears.
All too soon, Trent crouched again to brush his fingers on the floor.
“Another wire?” Kerry asked. Unable to keep still, he swung his club nervously and peered back the way they had come. It was unlikely for Beasts to spawn from that direction. They were too close to the Safe Zone. However, cold sweat trickled down his spine and he thought he could hear clicking in the dark.
“Pressure plate,” Trent answered shortly. He chanted under his breath, and a second later, a handful of dust filled his hand. He scattered it on the ground and straightened up. “Keep away from the dirt.”
Another time and he would have been overjoyed to find a use for the Charm he had thought was useless. Today he couldn’t find it in him. He picked up Dreq and carried the Dog in the crook of his arm, unwilling to trust the puppy’s flopping feet.
“Maybe you should disarm it.” Kerry wet his lips as he eyed the spot Trent had marked.
“Can’t. Not that kind of Trap.” Trent scanned the ground and cast Dust again, sprinkling the created sand on an innocuous section of the tunnel.
“What do you mean? You don’t know how?” Felicia spoke up. The marked spot was wider this time, and she moved to the wall, fighting the urge to walk directly behind Trent.
“I mean, it can’t be disarmed.”
“All locks can be picked, and all Traps can be disarmed.” Kerry mimicked the lazy drawl of the Academy’s resident expert on theft, woodcraft, and debauchery, Instructor Bragee.
Felicia clicked her tongue at the imitation but let the reminder that such a despicable man existed go. A puzzled look crossed her face. There was a tightness to Trent’s shoulders that was hard to miss and harder to understand.
“Whoever told you that is an idiot!” Trent was having to cast Dust every few feet now. He stopped, turning to face Felicia and Kerry. He could feel the questions and objections that were coming his way.
“Or you misunderstood. Not all Traps are meant to be disarmed. The kind you are thinking of are set by people who will return. They are placed in areas the one setting them needs to access again. Chests and rooms, things you want to protect. They aren’t intended to go off as much as slow down or discourage thieves and intruders.”
Alistern Craw had spoken in a serious tone when he related this lesson to Trent, and Trent could hear the Lieutenant’s voice in his head as he imparted the instruction to his friends. “These Traps are meant to go off. They are meant to kill or maim a pursuer. They’re the type that a man sets when he isn’t going back and doesn’t care who gets hurt. Poking at them with wires, picks, or knives is another way of tripping them. We're just…”
Trent bit down on the thought that they were lucky these Traps left space to walk through. It was the same mistake Kerry had made, and one Trent would not repeat. The Trial could come up with ideas on its own. He wasn’t going to help.
Fortunately, Kerry and Felicia missed his lapse. They were focusing on the words “maim” and “kill.” They stepped with greater caution as Trent turned and began littering the way with handfuls of dirt again. Their eyes remained wide and attentive even when Trent had stopped casting and came to another halt after a dozen tentative steps.
“Felicia,” Trent’s voice was strained as he set Dreq down and drew his knives, “have you figured out how to improve that Firebolt Spell yet?”
“Not yet,” A sick feeling filled the half-elf's stomach, and she swallowed the warm saliva that flooded her mouth. “I think I have the Mana fluctuations wrong, or the runes. Too much of the book is damaged, and I'm not familiar with Fire. Why? Is it another trap? Can this one be disarmed with a Fire Spell?”
“Not another trap, no.” Trent shook his head. “It’s the same trap.”
He stood close to the wall, and with the tip of Sorrow, traced a faint crack that broke the rock at waist height. Up close, he could see pinprick-like holes, hundreds of them, scarring the stone above the break in the wall. Holes and line, both spread from the last trap they had passed to the next series of pressure plates he could make out up ahead.
“You’ll need to concentrate on blocking the tunnel behind us with your Shield Spell.” Trent moved back to the center. Closing his eyes, he angled his head and concentrated on listening. A series of chirps, taps, and buzzing came from the front and back, confirming what Trent had discovered.
“Lay flat. Felicia, when I say, block as much of the tunnel as you can!” Trent sank to the ground as he spoke, his breathing easy and steady. “Kerry, cover what she can’t and hold on. Dreq, you’re with me, try and use Paralyzing Howl… wide, does that make sense?”
The Dog nodding to a question that should have been too complicated for his brain to comprehend puzzled Kerry as much as the way Felicia instantly pulled out her wand and dropped to her stomach. “What’s going on?”
“Get down!” Trent snapped, “There’s no time for questions! It’s the same trap! And we’re right in the middle of it!”
The buzzing was louder now. The tapping, clicking and whining chirps more distinct. Kerry was prone beside Felicia with no memory of how he had gotten that way. He shifted to pull his arm and shield out from beneath him as his eyes grew wide with horror.
“The same trap,” Trent whispered. “One big trap, and it’s about to be triggered.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
There was a third type of Trap, one Trent wasn’t watching for. Alistern had described many situations that could involve hidden dangers, back when they were preparing a field for a pack of Howlers. He had related even more before they were separated in the Land of the Undying Lord. All of those words rattled around in Trent’s brain, but they had never found a resting place. Trent had yet to encounter the situations himself, and the information had little to attach itself to.
The type of Trap Trent had failed to spot was not one that could be set off by careless feet. It was one that was monitored and activated remotely, too late for an enemy to escape. Rocks that fell from a cliff when pushed by a watching ambusher, or a bridge that collapsed when a lever was pulled by a Sentry as a line of soldiers reached the midpoint were two examples that Alistern had given for difficult to avoid pitfalls.
In this case, the tapping feet of oversized insects approaching from both sides worked as well as the boots of a man to trip sensitive pressure plates. A thin sheet of metal shot out of the wall from the break Trent had noticed, cleaving the air as it crossed through the tunnel and slamming into the far side. It bit deep into the stone and stuck there.
The sound of metal hitting stone continued, joining the buzzing and clicking of the approaching Beasts, creating a symphony that filled the tunnel, like drums left out in a driving rain. Felicia and Kerry covered their ears as unseen objects hit the tunnel wall and dropped onto the sheet that kept them from rising. Trent frowned at the raucous noise caused by what he guessed were arrows or darts being fired out of tiny holes.
Down was the only choice. He had considered jumping above the crack when the trap went off. Fr
om the sound of things, he would have been shredded by projectiles if he had. Underneath the confining plate, he was able to get on his knees but was hunched over in the cramped conditions. He yelled for Felicia to block her side of the tunnel with her Spell as he drew his knives.
Stone Biting Ants of two varieties rushed at Trent, keeping him from looking back to see if his instructions had been heard. Smaller than Swift Beetles, the Ants came in greater numbers, too many to be easily counted. The black Ants came low enough to the ground that their flying red comrades were left with plenty of room to buzz along through the air.
Dreq’s howl warbled through the air and muddled the approaching army. The black Ants slumped as the sonic attack hit them, however, the red insects flew on unaffected. Whether that was due to Dreq spreading out the range of his howl at the cost of height or because they had a natural immunity, Trent didn’t know, and he had no time to puzzle over it.
Covering the tunnel’s width would have been simple if he was on his feet. Trent could have swatted the flying Ants from the air and crushed the land-bound beneath his feet without being strained at all. On his knees, Trent was restricted, his movements clumsy.
He cut down two of the flying insects and was grateful to find their defenses did not match Sorrow and Strife's keenness. Though he was slow, he wasn’t out of the fight. A red Ant buzzed toward his face and instead of slashing at it, Trent fell onto his back, lashing out with his feet to crush the bug against the low metal ceiling. After the satisfying crunch of the red Beast, Trent stayed on his back, rolling from side to side to kick Ants from the air.
Rolling and wiggling, Trent was in near constant motion. He sheathed his daggers, and when an Ant escaped the spastic attacks of his feet to land on his chest, he slapped it with his hands or completed a roll to smother it with his body. Ants knocked from the air found his boot heels smashing against their crunchy insect heads.
When a black Ant recovered from its paralysis and latched onto his right boot while he was busy kicking with his left, Trent sent it tumbling away from him with a well-placed dart. More darts were flung from his fingers as Trent risked a look backward to see why Dreq wasn’t controlling the ground forces with his howl.
He was starting to find this fight, as ridiculous as it was, enjoyable. The Ants made funny noises as they were squashed and the ones that managed to bite at him weren’t able to penetrate his armor. A glance backward to see Dreq locked in combat with an Ant twice the Dog’s size changed everything.
Mandibles that couldn’t harm Trent came dangerously close to tearing into Dreq’s soft fur. Dreq snarled as he snapped and grabbed onto the Ant's leg. His jaws had become stronger after he applied his Attribute Points, and the thin limb was ripped free as Dreq shook his head, growling. It might have been enough if Dreq only faced one opponent at a time, but a second Ant had slipped past Trent and was approaching from behind.
Trent stopped that one with a dart and turned back to the wave of Beasts, his expression serious again. Beyond Dreq, Trent had noticed that Felicia had managed to block most of the tunnel, and Kerry was covering the rest. The Warrior had discarded his club, which was useless in the cramped conditions. Kerry relied on his shield and fist to push the encroaching Ants back. A brief look in Trent’s direction said it wasn’t going well.
Trent had to be faster! He rose back to his knees. Leaving his knives in their sheaths, Trent followed Kerry’s example and struck out with his fists. He snatched red Ants from the air and, cracking them with his hands, hurled broken bodies back into the oncoming horde. His head bounced off the metal ceiling, but he hardly noticed as he continued to whirl, snatch, and punch.
The last Ant on his side fell to a strike with too much force behind it. Trent’s fist plowed through the insect’s body and became stuck in its innards. He was shaking his hand desperately to free it when Kerry’s scream caused him to look back again, his breath catching in his throat.
Kerry’s armor wasn’t as effective as Trent’s. When an Ant avoided the Warrior’s thrashing and clamped down on Kerry’s wrist, the iron gauntlets crumpled and split. Mandibles ripped into Kerry’s skin, and the Ant's mouth unleashed a caustic fluid, which burned and melted, rendering Kerry’s hand into a twisted claw of exposed muscle and bone.
Kerry fell back, clutching his arm to his chest and screaming. Ants began to flood through the gap left by the wounded boy. The insects swarmed towards the disabled Warrior, a few splitting off to head for Felicia, who had used nearly all her Mana to maintain her shield and was in no condition to fight them off. The bugs would reach the pair long before Trent could arrive. There was no crossing the twenty or so feet in time, not while crawling.
Dreq had finished three Ants on his own. Using Shadow Lunge to drop onto the bugs from above, he had depleted most of his Stamina and wanted nothing more than to curl up. Curl up and maybe chew on an Ant. He had already discovered that their legs were tasty enough, though he hadn’t had time to enjoy a full one yet.
Now wasn’t the time for a nap. Dreq might not be attached to these two that took up far too much of Trent’s time lately, but he understood his obligations. Although he couldn’t fight the Ants by himself, not more than one or two, he could buy Trent a few seconds.
He croaked out a Paralyzing Howl that stopped the Ants advancing through the breach, the sonic attack sapping the last of his energy. Dreq collapsed on top of his defeated foe, as the wave of Ants slumped against the floor. The last sight his tired eyes captured was Trent loping forward on all fours in a gait the Dog was certain Trent had learned from him.
Trent dropped a Mana potion into Felicia’s lap after he killed the invaders that had made it into friendly territory. He should have given her a few of the restoratives earlier. He would make sure she was supplied from now on. Felicia hurriedly gulped the blue liquid, calling out thanks to Trent’s back as he squeezed through the area her shield didn’t cover, entering the fray once more.
The shield had remained intact since the start of the attack. At her Level, Felicia could maintain the Spell for ten minutes, which meant it had been less than ten since she cast it. She felt like it had been days. It had surely been hours since Kerry had been bitten. He had passed out from the pain now, but his screams still rang in her ears.
She should have watched Trent through the opaque screen she had created with her magic. It had been a comfort watching him squash the bugs that had reached the hem of her robe and kicking feet. It might have been therapeutic to see him swatting and mashing the rest. No matter how hard she tried, though, she couldn’t take her eyes off the mangled remains of Kerry’s hand.
Venom? Acid? Acidic venom? Whatever it was the Ants had, it had destroyed most of Kerry’s flesh and muscles. Minor Heal, the Spell she had touted as the biggest reason for including her on this delve, wouldn’t touch that wound. The bone, which could be seen, was intact. That was positive, in a “the patient is half-alive not half-dead,” kind of way. It would still take major Healing to restore the hand to working order.
She might have stared at that wound forever. She blamed herself for it. A proper Mage did not hide behind a Shield. A real Mage Apprentice would have cast Grace on Kerry and Fire on the enemy. She didn’t like to kill, didn’t want to do it! She had never intended to use the Spells Trent was making her learn.
Now… she still didn’t like it! Magic should be more than a weapon. The world had swords and Swordsmen. There were Assassins and Warriors around every corner. Why couldn’t magic be for healing and wonders of creation? Weren’t there enough death dealers like Trent without her throwing flames to burn people alive?
She had tried to summon that argument when Trent pushed the Spell tomb on her. Her tongue had failed her because she had the feeling Trent would agree. A Warrior who was entranced by a pink scarf and who marveled at the thought of a Charm which merely dried your clothing would get it. Magic had potential to accomplish so much good.
Trent’s insistence that she be able to protect herself ma
de more sense to her now. She had made a less than serious attempt to learn the Firebolt Spell, thinking she wouldn’t need it. It was simpler than Grace or Mage Shield. An hour of genuine study and she could have figured out the missing sections on the damaged pages.
Because she hadn’t learned Firebolt, Kerry would probably lose that hand. There weren’t any powerful Healers in Bellrise. Kerry would have to go to Al’drossford, and by the time he got there, the injury would cost more than three gold to Heal. Especially if Trent kept enlarging it by ripping the rest of Kerry’s gauntlet off!
She came out of her shocked musing with a horrified wail. Her stomach lurched at the sight of Kerry’s fully exposed wound as Trent tugged the damaged armor away with a grunt. “Stop that! We need to get him to a Healer! You’re making it worse!”
She tried to push Trent aside, to protect Kerry. Trent didn’t even look at her. He only stopped what he was doing long enough to shove her back. She fell onto her rear, and when she scrambled for him again, Trent had already produced a vial of red liquid and was pulling the cork loose with his teeth.
“That won’t work!” She exclaimed, exasperation at Trent and her inability to stop him made her voice shrill. “Minor Healing isn’t enough. He needs… needs… What was in that vial?”
“Greater Healing potion.” Trent spat the cork from his mouth. He had poured half of the potion directly onto Kerry’s wound and was holding the vial to the unconscious Warrior’s lips to administer the rest.
By the time Felicia realized what he was doing, it was too late to stop him. She stared in rapt amazement as the muscle and skin of Kerry’s hand reknit around the bone of his arm. Trent had finished pouring the precious restorative before she came to her senses.
“That was a waste,” she said numbly. “The wound was already healing, and he doesn’t have any other injuries.”
