Looming Shadow: Journey to Chaos book 2 (33 page)

The door only opened
to my unique spirit. No one else can get in
. Eric thought Dengel-like
thoughts and pounded on the door with his staff. The grey light shined and the
door creaked and groaned, hesitating. Eric lashed out with fury in his spirit
and an explosion of spiritual power knocked them all (save Basilard and Sias)
off their feet.

It reached the top of
the tower and the tower's crown glowed golden-brown. The blast radiated outward
and touched every corner of the castle. The sigils grew brighter and more
joined them. The stones regenerated as if time reversed. The air grew thicker
as mana fell like rain. Eric pushed the door with his right hand and it swung
open.

“HA-HAA!” Haburt
shouted. “WE'RE IN!”

His jubilation was cut
short by the sound of rustling bones. All over the courtyard, the bones of
Dengel's victims slid through the dirt and dust to each other. They built up
into complete skeletons. They grabbed stones and stray bones and formed a mob. They
outnumbered the group 2-1, counting the non-combatants. They marched forward
and a mysterious whisper reached Eric's ears.  

“....Dengel...Die....!”

Eric's blood boiled at
that accursed name. He jumped into their midst, flung his arms to either side,
and they flared with the light of mana. Seconds before the skeletons struck him,
he unleashed it, and a flurry of buckshot plowed through the mob. They
obliterated ribs, disintegrated skulls, and busted hips. Eric fired again and
again and again until each and every skeleton was reduced to dust. Then he felt
the toll of his actions and fell prostrate to the ground, gasping heavily.

He shook so violently
that Basilard brought out his emergency Mana Juice. Eric gulped it down as best
he could, but even then, his panting continued. When his breathing finally
stabilized, Nolien asked, “Eric, are you okay?”

“Fine! Let's just go to
the top of the abyss-cursed tower so the client can get his blasted research
and we can leave!”

He marched past his
teammates and client and finally, Zettai. She stepped away and said, “You're
scary.”

He rounded on her and
shouted, “I am
The Trickster's Choice
. That means I am scary! Somehow, I
gave ORDER the willies because he tried to kill me on my way here!” The tower's
golden-brown crown pulsed. “I'm coming! Be patient!” 

Inside the doors was a
bare stone room with nothing but a staircase leading up.
The stairway was an
illusion snare: once entered, any trespasser is trapped in an eternal flight of
stairs.
Eric advised his party against the stairs and instead selected one
of the bricks in the left sidewall. He pushed it inwards and the stairs
swiveled.

The genius is that
even if some experienced treasure hunter finds the right brick, they will think
the second stair is real. Would you expect anything less from Dengel Tymh?
The real entrance was behind the brick. Eric pushed it all the way in and clear
of the wall, then tapped a rune on the inside. This triggered the wall on the
right side of the room to reveal a secret passage.

It was small chamber
housing a spiral staircase. Made of cold grey stone and, to the naked eye, it
was completely empty. The party took five steps before Eric held out a hand to
stop them.
The secret passage would spell death for all who entered, except
for me, of course. I know the location of each and every trap. Furthermore, I
am immortal, so a missed step is not fatal for me.

“This is where we part
ways. I'm going the rest of the way alone.”

“Come on, Dimwit.
That's not fair. I haven't gotten to do anything fun since that squid tried to
eat you. You even hogged those skeletons.”

“If it's booby traps
you're worried about, then I should accompany you in case you trigger one.”

“You guys don't get it.
Every square
inch
has a booby trap. Dengel wanted to make his lair
impregnable, so he made a tower where only a battle mage has a
chance
of
success. I am the only one who can get there safely.”

Basilard grabbed his
shoulders and looked him square in the eye.

 
“Eric, I'll let
you do this on one condition: if something goes wrong, you must retreat
immediately. This mission is not worth your life. Understand?”

Eric nodded. “I’m not
going to kill myself over this.”

“If you find any ghosts
of Dengel, try to make contact with them. They will not know you and so you can
convince them to help you. Do you know how to do that?”

Eric nodded again.
“Chapter Ten of
Introduction to Magecraft
talked about the mechanics of
ghosts and astral communication.
The Spirit and Its Power
also had a few
things to say on the subject.”

Finally, Basilard
regarded Haburt. “Do you have a problem with this, Professor?”

Haburt shook his head.
“The courtyard will compensate me if the tunnel is too dangerous.”

“If you're not back in
an hour, I'm going in after you.” Basilard smiled. “Good luck.”

Eric drew his staff,
saluted, and turned around to face Shadow Dengel. It made the typical taunts
and barbs and they riled him momentarily. Then he took a deep breath, let it
out, and something occurred to him.

Kasile?

Yes?

Don't contact me for
the next hour or so. I'm in a supremely dangerous place and cannot be
distracted for any reason.

What if Annala has been
kidnapped by ordercrafters and is about to be sold into sex slavery?
Eric
stiffened.
Hypothetically speaking. Nulso hasn't made a move on her since
you met him.

If that were the
case, then I would trust that you, my dear divine friend and mighty monarch,
would resolve the issue quickly and thus see no need to worry me.

Touché. Alright, I
won't contact you for the next hour or so.

Eric stepped forwards.

An Air Disk made all
the floor traps harmless. Even though Dengel had the foresight to install traps
activated by Air Disks, he told the lair raider the location of every single
one. Eric merely had to jump past them, cancel the spell in mid-air, and recast
it before he landed. After his narrow escape in Mambi, he practiced this feat
until it was second nature.

The list Eric was
forced to listen to lasted a week in a desert, and then all the time back to
Roalt. Dengel then repeated himself in the sewer. He would not shut up about
all the booby traps and runes and automata he hid in the floor and walls and ceiling.
Now Eric was glad he didn't tune it all out. He would take great pleasure in
bypassing them all.

Thanks to his tenant's
never-ending bragging, Eric knew precisely where to step, where to jump, where
to crouch, where to hold his breath and cover his nose and mouth, and where to
stand absolutely still.
All the careful planning...
Eric sidestepped a
hidden lance.
All the tedious carving and installing...
He carefully
stepped over a trigger that would summon a golem.
All the trouble of
avoiding these traps for centuries.
Eric closed his eyes and plugged his
ears to prevent the artificial Venus flytrap song from seducing him.
All of
it made useless by his own hand!

Fire came at him from
the walls and encountered with water. The ceiling fell to crush him, but he
held it at bay with wind. Water poured out of the exit and down the stairs with
terrible force, but he held his ground and evaporated it all with fire. When he
reached the top, wind tried to knock him from his victory height, but he
smashed the source with stone pillars hewed from the very walls.

The novice mage was
giddy with excitement. His fingers twitched, his lips quirked up; it was hard
to prevent himself from running. All the traps were gone, defeated, overcome.
Only one more barrier remained and it was a solid wall.

What truly kept my
greatest lair secure was the final door. No lock, rune, or anything of that
nature but a password. A password that was inscribed with a staff and mana. A
brilliant idea if I do say so myself.
Dengel never told Eric the password,
but after all their time spent together, he could guess.

Staff alight with mana,
he drew the sequence that would unlock the final barrier: a straight line
connected to a half moon, a tree with three branches, the symbol for lightning
on its side, the serpent that eats its own tail, a second tree, and finally, a
crowbar. The key shined blue in its lock:

 D-E-N-G-E-L.

 The gears behind it
clanked and groaned from disuse. This was the first time in over a thousand
years that this door had opened. Slowly, ever so slowly, the wall slid back and
granted him entry.

 There it was. The
pearl, the rose; the very thing he wanted to expose and violate. Eric savored
the moment. He was the first person to enter in this space since Dengel
disappeared almost two millennia ago. The first to smell the air and the feel
the energy.
At long last, I can destroy Dengel's legacy!
He stepped inside.

The chamber was small;
he estimated it was the same size as his bridge house. He took another deep
breath and grinned ecstatically. For so long, he breathed the thin air of Ceiha,
but here the air was full of life. The age-old walls contained ancient energy.
It swirled back and forth and cast shadows all around him. He could see and
hear Dengel pacing as he pondered the depths of Chaos or sitting at his desk
recording a new deduction on the nature of magic. Standing here, Eric felt
invigorated.

This power preserved
everything. Since the hour Dengel closed the door for the last time, nothing
had decayed. From the desk to the vials, nothing showed two thousand years of
disuse. Scrolls were everywhere: on shelves, on the desk, on the floor. They
were long since dried and stiff, but still intact. All these ages and the
knowledge of magecraft remained intact.

How long it remained
such depended on Eric's self-restraint. Everything in this room was a valuable
historic relic. This was what his client had come for and hired him for.
Collecting these was his purpose for coming all this way. No mattering how
tempting, he couldn't smash everything in a flurry of righteous revenge. Instead,
he took stock of the room for his report.

In the center of the
room stood a white-silver cauldron with a casing of red-gold. If that weren't
ostentatious enough, the cauldron was elongated in its design and handles
raised in such wide and delicate loops as to be mere decoration.
Nothing but
the best for the Founder of Magic, right?

Silence.

What's wrong,
shadow? Don't like that I'm in your lair!? The oh-so impregnable secret sanctum
of the Great Dengel!?

More silence.

That is so like you.
You never could admit you were wrong.
Eric began a Searing Wind spell.
I'm gonna cut this up and sell it! Your cauldron will make me rich! How do you
like that, shadow!?

No outraged cry
answered. Eric growled and dropped his spell.

What else is in
here?
He looked around again.
If there’s anything chaos-related, like a
blessed staff or something, I could use that against Nulso. Dragon’s Lair Rule
Number #6: Not all that glitters is gold, but it could still be worth a lot of
money.
#7: Grab what is whenever you can.

 Along the left wall
were rows of sealed clay containers. The labels were in a language resembling
Latin, but Eric could still read the spell diagram on the lid. It was a
freshness rune invoking the sea god.
These might still be good, but I doubt
anyone would use them....maybe a museum...

 Apart from the
cauldron, there was a large wooden desk and chair. Open in front of it was a
sheet of papyrus with the same language as the labels on the containers.
Alongside it was a crystal ball on a silver stand and a skull. Eric ran his
hand over the latter from the base to the top; still polished after all this
time.
Maybe you can tell me something.

“Wake up, Skull. Your
master is here.”

“Welcome home, Master.”
The skull's mouth didn't clatter, but a breeze moved through its jaws. “What do
you wish of me?”

“Tell me the year.”

“It has been two
thousand years since Fiery Human Upstart murdered your Glorious Patron, and one
thousand eight hundred and fifty years since you left the service of the
Insolent Dragon-girl who poached you for your marvelous skills, my master.”

Eric chuckled. Dengel
made clear his dislike of the Mother Dragon, but this?
...He worked one
hundred and fifty years under her and I bet he never dared call her that to her
face.

“How long have I been
gone?”

“One thousand four
hundred and fifty years, my master.”
In other words, he disappeared in 550
AA. He spent four hundred years tormenting these people.

“What was I going to
do?”

“You left to
demonstrate your power over the earth to your subjects and simultaneously send
a message to Imposter Dragon Criminal that she was vulnerable to your might and
would soon die.”

Eric rubbed his
forehead.
Dengel programed this skull to turn every word into flattery. I
suppose an ego that big needs constant maintenance.

“Subjects” referred to
people living under a ruler, which explained the legend of the mountain king
and why the locals thought the Crimson Killer was a zombie king. “Demonstrate power
over the earth” could refer to earth magic and something Dengel would think
impressive would have to be mountain-sized. That explained where Mt. Heios came
from and if he were researching chaos, then it would explain why Mt. Heios was
covered in Fog. That, plus the intimidation purpose of the message meant Dengel
developed an attack spell using chaos to kill an immortal. “Imposter Dragon Criminal”
referred to someone that pretended to be a dragon and that Dengel viewed as a
criminal that was also immortal.
Dragon, immortal, criminal, Dengel's
era....The Bandit Empress! Dengel planned to murder The Bandit Empress with
chaos magic! It suits his ego and matches Basilard's story...