Guild Wars: Ghosts of Ascalon (6 page)

Clagg howled in despair. “Do you know how much of my life that represents?”

As if to answer, the composite tomb guardian turned and stretched its arms up at them. Clagg leaped back, but Dougal stood his ground, confident that they were well beyond the creature’s reach.

“I hate magic,” Dougal said. “I mean, sure, we
knew
that grabbing the Eye was going to make something happen—an asura like Blimm wouldn’t just leave it there unguarded—but with magic, you can’t ever know what it’s going to be.”

Killeen leaned up against a wall of the bone-lined corridor, trying to restore the circulation to her legs. She looked like a newborn colt struggling to its feet for the first time. “Blimm must have been very determined to protect his crypt. Guarding a tomb with a beast like
that strikes me as overkill.”

Clagg snorted at them both. “You idiots. The Golem’s Eye isn’t just a pretty rock. It is an ambient thaumaturgic construct. It contains the construct’s mind. That tomb guardian didn’t even exist until we showed up to disturb it.” He glared at Dougal. “When you touched the ruby, you
activated
the Eye. The Eye in turn
created
the guardian.”

The tomb guardian slammed its limbs into the side of the chamber directly below. Dougal watched as pieces of the construct crumbled away. It hit the wall again and again, knocking loose more pieces every time until little of it was left but a few twitching skulls that seemed to stare up at Dougal and accuse him of thievery with their empty eye sockets.

“So passes Blimm’s great creation,” Clagg cackled. “And now the Golem’s Eye is mine!”

Dougal started to grin, but his sense of triumph faded when the bones lining the corridor began to thrum.

Dougal looked about them. “You say the ruby is that thing’s mind?”

The asura nodded, still delighted in his anticipated prize. “In a sense. Blimm designed the central cereo-impulse unit so that the guardian could assemble itself out of appropriate materials in the surrounding environment. I’d think even a human could grasp that.”

“So, assuming the ruby is still intact, the creature could reassemble itself anywhere?”

Clagg’s face darkened. “Isn’t that what I just said, bookah? It could re-form anywhere it could find enough appropriate …” The asura’s voice faded to silence as
the rattling of the bones surrounding the three of them grew louder. Clagg’s eyes opened wide as he realized what he had just said.

“. . . material.” He finished softly, looking at the bone-lined chamber around them.

“We should run, now,” suggested Killeen.

As the bones began to peel themselves from the corridor’s walls, Dougal grabbed his torch in one hand, Killeen’s hand in the other, and ran. He didn’t look back to see if Clagg was keeping up.

Through the chambers and passages they fled, the dry clattering of bone against bone behind them. They slowed only for a moment where the spider had ambushed Killeen, and again where the explosive trap had detonated. Only after they reached the far side of both chambers without incident did Dougal call for a halt. Clagg bent in half, desperate to regain his breath. Killeen was practically yellow from exhaustion as well.

Over their deep gasps for breath, Dougal listened for the sounds of pursuit. Nothing.

“We’ve outrun it,” he said at last, wiping the sweat away from his forehead.

“Not possible,” panted the asura. “We are still surrounded by bones. Show me the Eye.”

Dougal fished out the gemstone and held it out to the asura, but did not let go of it. The fire in the jewel’s heart was gone, and the stone felt dead and lifeless.

“As I thought,” said the asura. “It is deactivated. Exhausted the stored malagetic field. It could recharge naturally over time, or someone with sufficient skill”—Clagg paused just long enough to indicate he meant
himself—“could reactivate it. Give it to me.”

Dougal closed his fist. “Not yet.”

Clagg snarled, “I hired you to retrieve the Eye.”

Dougal said, “You hired
us
to accompany you into these crypts to recover the gem. We are still in the crypts. Once we are safely out and, may I add, paid, I will give you the gem.” With that, Dougal made a show of placing the gem in his breast pocket once more.

Only, this time he palmed the gem and kept it in his hand.

Clagg opened his mouth to abuse Dougal further, but looked at the human’s smiling face, said “Bah,” and stomped away in the general direction of the Skull Gate and daylight.

Killeen said, “You think he is going to cheat you.” It was a statement, not a question.

Dougal nodded. “Definitely. Well, likely. Best to be sure.” He looked at the sylvari, and she returned his gaze with a quizzical look. He coughed and followed the asura.

The Skull Gate, a main entrance to the crypts beneath Divinity’s Reach, was named for the long tunnel lined with the lacquered skulls of the deceased. Nameless souls whose bodies had washed up when Orr sank, and when that lost kingdom rose from the depths once more at a dragon’s command. Dougal thought of the power of the Golem’s Eye unleashed here and shuddered.

Up ahead, around a corner, was daylight. They had been underground for most of the day, but even in the deep shadows of the elevated main thoroughfares of
the city, the natural light was welcome.

Clagg disappeared around the corner, then returned at once in a sudden rush—so sudden that he barreled into Dougal, knocking the human over.

Dougal felt small fingers snatch at his shirt. Instead of the gem, however, the asura came up with a closed gold locket hanging from a chain around Dougal’s neck.

Dougal reached up with his empty hand and pulled the locket loose from the confused asura. “I’ll take that, thank you,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

“City guards,” said Clagg, recovering. “Seraph. We have to wait.”

“Show me,” said Dougal.

They crept forward. Going into the crypts was not illegal, but needed proper paperwork and passes. Paperwork and passes they, of course, lacked. Meeting the Seraph would be a bad thing at this point.

Clagg stopped at the corner and leaned out. Dougal leaned out over him, placing the hand holding the gem against one of the skulls.

The asura was not lying about the guards. Decked in heavy white armor trimmed in gold, the Seraph were the city guard of Divinity’s Reach and the army of Kryta. They should not be gathered in such large numbers in the plaza outside the Skull Gate, thought Dougal. They did not appear to be on alert, and were not apparently waiting for the krewe, but a battered human, asura, and sylvari coated with bone dust and stumbling into the plaza would no doubt be brought in for questioning. Questioning that would turn rather
pointed when they found the Golem’s Eye.

Dougal slipped the Eye deep into the eye socket of the nearest lacquered skull. It was an unsuitable hiding place, but it was the best he could do for the moment.

“So, do you have a plan, human?” said Clagg.

“Let me see,” said Killeen. “Is there a problem?” The sylvari climbed up on Dougal’s back to see past him, putting her slim, booted foot on the back of his belt to boost herself up.

Despite himself, Dougal shook her off and wheeled on her. “What are you doing?” he said sharply. “Aren’t things bad enough?”

The sylvari shrank back from the reproach, and Dougal swallowed any further words. He turned back to the asura, towering over him.

“Here’s the plan: we wait.”

Clagg, visibly frustrated and tired, shook his head. “What if they are checking the crypts?”

“Fine, then one of us goes out and draws their attention. Then we regroup later for the split.”

“Dougal …” said Killeen.

“By ‘one of us,’ you mean me or the sylvari, don’t you?” spat Clagg.

“If you want, I will go first,” said Dougal, looking down on the asura, his own anger rising. They had been through too much to end it with a stupid argument.

“Dougal …” repeated Killeen.

“So you can fast-talk your way past your human
friends and leave us here to be caught?” snarled Clagg.

“We can’t go out together!” said Dougal hotly. “They will get all of us!”

“Dougal Keane!” said Killeen firmly.

“What?” snapped Dougal, turning toward her again. This time she didn’t shrink back.

“We have company,” said Killeen.

Dougal turned back and looked down the drawn blade of a Seraph lieutenant. Two other Seraph stood behind her, their blades drawn as well.

“Dougal Keane—I believe she called you that,” said the lieutenant. “You and your friends are under arrest, Dougal Keane. Come along now.”

The manacles, Dougal felt, were an unnecessary insult. His cell was carved out of living rock, without mortar or purchase. The bars that bisected the room were old and stout and as thick as his thumb. The only light was from a thin chimney far overhead, also barred. The door to his partitioned cell was secured by a heavy padlock, which Dougal could pick with the proper tools, but those tools were now denied him. Beyond the barred partition was a small hall leading to an ironbound door to the rest of the jail. If Dougal had a norn, he could get past that as well, but that luxury was also denied him.

Given the security, the heavy iron leggings and wrist cuffs—all held together by a single loop of chain and set into a ring in the center of the room—were simply overkill.

It had been four days since his arrest, and except for a bored, grunting servant who brought porridge in the morning and stew in the evening, he had not had any visitors. That changed on the afternoon of the fourth day.

The outer door opened and a heavyset, mustached Seraph guard entered, followed by a young clerk
carrying a writing desk. The heavyset guard stared at Dougal through the bars while the clerk positioned the small desk, then left the room. The clerk returned with a stool, set it before the writing desk, uncorked a small vial of ink, set it in the appropriate hole in the desk, opened the desk, selected a quill, sharpened it, removed a small sheaf of paper, peeled off the topmost sheet, sat down on the stool, dipped the quill in the vial, and waited for the guard to speak.

“Dougal Keane—” began the officer.

“Present,” said Dougal, interrupting him.

The officer scowled, then started again. “Dougal Keane, you are accused of grave-robbing in the crypts beneath Divinity’s Reach. How do you plead?”

“Did you find any grave goods on myself or my companions?” asked Dougal.

“No,” said the officer, who seemed unbothered by the admission.

“And did you find much in the way of weapons on the three of us?”

“No,” repeated the officer.

“Then,” said Dougal, “If we are tomb robbers, we are extremely ineffective ones.”

“Your effectiveness is not the issue,” said the officer. “Your intent is.”

“Then I will go with ‘Innocent’ as a response,” said Dougal to the clerk, who dutifully noted it.

“You were found at the Skull Gate, injured and coated with bone dust. You lack the proper exploration permissions. Your answers have been less than satisfactory.” Here the guard smiled. “And one of your
compatriots has already confessed that you were seeking the Tomb of Blimm and the Golem’s Eye.”

Clagg
, thought Dougal, and all the air went out of him for the moment. “So, why are we having this discussion?” he said.

“Formality,” said the officer, his teeth showing white beneath his mustache. He walked over to the writing desk and motioned to the clerk, who opened it and produced another sheaf of paper. The Seraph guard read the form.

“Dougal Keane,” he said.

“Still present,” said Dougal, his heart sinking.

“Born in Divinity’s Reach, but emigrated to Ebonhawke as a child. Served in the Ebon Vanguard. You are listed as missing, presumed dead. Deserter?” His teeth flashed.

“We were caught behind charr lines on an extended patrol,” said Dougal, choosing his words carefully.

“You disappeared five years ago,” said the officer.

“It was an extremely extended patrol,” said Dougal, hoping he sounded more authoritative than he felt. He felt compelled to add, “There were a lot of charr between us and Ebonhawke at the time.”

“You never went back,” said the officer, smacking his lips in disdain. Then he added, “The queen strongly supports Ebonhawke. We could send you back to rejoin your unit.”

“I’m sure those who are still alive would welcome me back,” bluffed Dougal.

The officer shrugged and returned to his list. “Wanted in regards to numerous petty crimes in Lion’s
Arch.”

“Does the queen strongly support Lion’s Arch as well?” said Dougal, raising his eyebrows in mock disbelief.

“A crime is a crime,” said the officer. “Even in Lion’s Arch.”

“Lion’s Arch was founded by pirates, corsairs, and wreckers,” said Dougal, and for the first time the Seraph nodded in agreement. Even the clerk smiled.

The officer returned to his paper. “You worked for the Durmand Priory, apparently.”

“Briefly. We parted company after a disagreement about their book-lending policy,” said Dougal.

“I was unaware that the Durmand Priory lent out its precious books,” said the Seraph.