The Compass Key (Book 5) (19 page)

“Well, we’re both champions,” Nyx mutters, feebly struggling against the chair. “Sari is family, so I really need to save her. So, it’s frustrating that I can’t do anything besides blindly stumble through books.”

Cyril pulls out an old, leathery scroll that is tied with a bronze ribbon. “You weren’t blindly stumbling, Nyx. You tried every book and every request you could think of. Unfortunately, we don’t have any information on this Compass Key. Willow and I have memorized every tome in this tower. When we say that we have never heard of the Compass Key then that means there is no record of it within these walls.”

“Then, we have to look outside these walls,” Nyx finishes. She puts her feet up on the desk, her toes wiggling in a
cool crosswind. “Do we have the time to contact Queen Ionia or one of your friends?”

“You spend too much time blowing things up,” Cyril declares with a disappointed shake of his head. “I know we went over various finding spells when you were younger.”

“I tried those!” She purses her lips, ashamed that she snapped at her former teacher. “I’m sorry, sir, but I did try those spells. I found a hair clip I had lost in the kitchen as a child, one of Willow’s rings, and an assortment of keys when I tried to be specific. You have no idea how many keys I found. So, what do we do now?”

Her master
beckons for Nyx to follow him to a large table that rises from the blue and red carpet. “Come here and I will show you.”

The half-elf
turns into hazy form and drifts out of the chair, her faint body moving across the walls. She reappears over an old couch that spits a cloud of dust when she falls onto it. Hacking and coughing, she stares at her former master with a questioning look. Cyril sighs and mutters several words in Elven. The spell summons an invisible servant that goes about cleaning the office.

“Willow doesn’t come in here enough to scold you into cleaning,” Nyx happily teases before the servant flips her out of the couch. The cushions are moved to the window where they are beaten against the side of the tower.

“My summoned servant is thorough,” Cyril states, making a quick gesture at Nyx to move her to the table. “What do you see here?”

“It’s an old map of an empty kingdom,” Nyx answers
. She tenderly touches the thick scroll and is surprised to feel a faint scale pattern. “The borders look a lot like those of Gaia, but there are no landmarks or streets. I think I see a faded picture of the arena, but it’s disappearing as I look at it. This isn’t parchment, sir.”

Cyril takes a corner of the scroll and pulls it back to reveal another layer with the same outline.
“This is called a Map of Depth. It is made from naturally shed drite scales that have been gathered before they touch the ground. Forged in sprite powder and purple flames, this map can show the various levels of a city when the top layer has been filled in. One must-”

“W
hy isn’t it filled in already?”

“As I was about to explain, the map erases parts of itself as major changes are made to the city. For example, a new house would eliminate a block,” Cyril explains
as he rolls up the scroll and tucks it under his arm. “It has been decades since this map was used, so it needs to be restored. To restore it, a person must have their aura bonded to the map. Then, the map will use that person’s senses to fill itself in as they traverse the city. Lower levels are filled in once the top layer is copied, so it should lead you to the Compass Key. Unfortunately, it can’t locate items that are dormant and there is a high chance that what you’re looking for is out of power. Still, this can help you to traverse the sewers without getting lost.”

Nyx claps her hands and returns to the books behind Cyril’s des
k. She pulls out a green tome from a lower shelf, making sure to be very gentle with the delicate spine. She opens the book as she carries it to Cyril and places it on the table with her finger under the picture of a shining, featureless form. A complicated spell with a long list of ingredients is listed on the next page.

“A repowering spell would certainly work
on the Compass Key, but you have an issue of distance,” he mentions, expecting Nyx to already have an answer. “Casters need to be within a few yards of the target to recharge it.”

The young
half-elf is unable to hide the devilish pride in her voice. “A repowering spell’s range depends on the potency of a caster’s aura. I think with enough meditation and increasing the ingredients, I can give the Compass Key enough of an aura charge to make it appear on the map. Now, I’ll just take the map and go about filling it in.”

“I’m afraid you can’t have the map,” Cyril states, stepping out of her reach. He
extends a finger to Nyx’s lips, silencing her complaint. “You need to focus on your spell. We need to bond this to someone with the time to study the city. Somebody with a potent aura would be the best choice for a speedy creation.”

“Does t
he person have to be a caster?”

“No . . . wait!” Cyril shouts when his former apprentice yanks the
Map of Depth into her magic.

Nyx is excitedly running toward the office’s wooden door, which slam
s shut in front of her. Without slowing down, she covers herself in rolling fire and easily burns her way through the door. Cyril curses under his breath as the gaping hole sizzles and smokes. The hole swirls around to become a wooden form of Nyx’s face.

“Sorry, but I know who can fill in the map
. I don’t have time to explain because I need to have a special spell prepared for his return. Just trust me on this, Master Cyril.”

“I trust you, Nyx, but don’
t destroy any more doors.”

“Then don’t close any more in front of me,” Nyx retorts before the face
sinks into the enchanted wood. “Please send Delvin to the rooftop after dinner. I’ll be eating and working in my room. Thank you.”

Cyril goes back to his chair and falls upon the soft cushion in a tired heap. “And Willow said it would be
relaxing to have her back.”

*****

Sari darts behind a thick tree and kicks her leg out to her side, freezing the limb in mid-air. Luke slams into the immovable limb, a choked cry erupting from his mouth. The gypsy is sprinting away before the half-elf can recover, her feet making a rapid padding noise on the thick grass. She refuses to look back for fear that she will stop and try to talk sense in the pale-eyed phantom. It is bad enough that she can sense him racing after her, a terrifyingly cold bloodlust ebbing from his body. Sari is shocked out of her thoughts when she feels the wind of a saber that barely misses her head. The thrown weapon thuds into a tree ahead of her, so she swiftly veers to the left.

The gypsy’s lead is short-lived when she reaches a roaring river. The sound of Luke moving through the forest behind her, spurs her into action. Sari dives into the river and lets the rapids take her away. She gracefully manipulates the current to avoid the rocks and takes the turns in the river with amazing speed. Rising to the surface, she struggles to keep her balance while the water continues to push her forward. She spins around and her mood drops when she sees Luke leaping through the trees.

“Stop chasing me!” she shouts as she plunges her hands into the river. A blast of water launches her into the air and explodes into a storm of keen-edged water tendrils. Sari lands on her feet and bolts away as her water tempest shreds every bush and tree in the area. In her haste, she forgets to look back and see if Luke has been killed by her spell.

With a startled yelp, Sari bursts out of the forest and stumbles onto a bright beach. The ocean waves have the faint smell of fish and salt, which makes her nose wrinkle. Struggling to move through the sand, she keeps her eyes on the ocean. The wide expanse of water spreads out to greet her and she is nearly at the shore when a griffin lands in front of her. Unleashing a horrifying screech, the beast knocks her down with a strike from its wing.

“You’re very good at running,” Luke states as he transforms. He twirls his sabers and approaches Sari, his head cocked unnaturally to the side. “Though, how do you expect to run from your own mind, little slut?”

“Don’t you dare call me that!”
the gypsy shouts. She rolls away from Luke, flipping to her feet and drawing a pair of cutlasses from her skirts. “Nobody calls me that. Not even a phantom of my . . . of Luke.”

“Alm
ost slipped there, didn’t you?”

“You have no idea what I was going to say
.”

Luke sprints at Sari, easily deflecting her weapons and kicking her in the stomach. He cringes in pain as his foot shatters, forcing him to awkwardly bounce away. With loud cracks and
pops, his foot heals and he experimentally flexes it. Sari grins even though her stomach aches from the impact.

“You may be in my mind, but you’re proving that you can’t predict me,”
she proudly declares. She playfully dances further away from Luke, teasing him with a few slow spins. “I assume you’re my anger, which makes no sense in that form. Yet, after guilt, fear, and hate, what else is there?”

“For all your faults, dearest Sari, you are incapable of true anger,” he replies, taking a seat on the cool sand. “Anger fades away with you, even if you wish to hold onto
it. That’s what comes when your entire reason for being is to love and be loved.”

Sari sighs and scratches her head in frustration. “In that case, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with you.”

“We both know what you want to do with me, little slut,” Luke says, wincing when the flying cutlass cuts the side of his neck. “I am everything. You feel guilty about your relationship with me. You are terrified that you will cause me pain. You hate that you love me so much and might have to let me go. I dare you to tell me otherwise.”

“I . . . I can’t,” Sari whispers in defeat. Tears roll down her cheeks, along her throat, and under the neckline of her shirt. “Are you happy? I admit that I’m in love with Luke and would like for him to be mine.”

“You plot against Kira while saying you support her.”

“I do not!”

“I know your thoughts.”

“Then you’re an idiotic phantom,” Sari laughs, her tears continuing to flow. “Those thoughts are childish dreams that I’d never indulge in.”

Luke is on his feet and behind her within seconds, his sabers crossed against her throat. He gently rubs the blades against each other, creating an ear-wrenching shriek. He kisses her on the cheek and takes the time to lick a tear off her skin. Sari’s shuddering body brings a cruel smile to his face, which momentarily twists into a demonic visage. It swiftly changes back as he makes two small, shallow nicks under her chin.

“You lie,” he
evilly whispers. “You speak of being happy for your rival while you wish for nothing more than to claim me for yourself. One day, you will lose control and try to take what is rightfully yours. We both know this.”

“How is Luke rightfully mine?”
the gypsy asks in a voice filled with hate.

The phantom’s tongue slips out of his mouth and tickles her ear.
“Because you are both champions. A rich brat from a promiscuous people can never compare to a beautiful gypsy destined to save the world by my side.”

“That’s a flimsy excuse,” Sari retorts, remaining motionless.

“You know my courtship of Kira, or should I say her courtship of me. It wasn’t love at first sight, but something that grew from confusion. You and I were immediate passion, which grows every day. That’s more powerful than what I have with Kira and you know it.”

Her
tears flow faster than before as she stammers, “Their love is true and eternal. I can feel that.”

“It dies if you kill Kira.”

“Don’t say that.”

“The thought is in your mind.”

“Not it isn’t.”

“Slit her throat.”

“No.”

“Poison her.”

“Be quiet.”

“Drown her.”

“Stop it.”

“Freeze her to death.”

“Shut up!”

A frigid mist erupts from Sari’s body, bursting from her sleeves and neckline. Born from her tears, the mist engulfs Luke and freezes him into a shimmering statue of ice. Sari shivers as she remains pressed against the frozen warrior. With a shaking hand, she grips the frozen sabers and snaps them off at their hilts. The delicate cracking of ice causes her to turn around, fully expecting to see Luke falling to pieces. Instead, he is
struggling to move his icy body and continue tormenting Sari.

“I’ve had it,” she whispers, drawing a finely crafted stiletto. She strikes Luke with all of her strength and h
e shatters into shards. “Leave me alone!”

The ocean churns and roars, surging to engulf the beach and the forest beyond. Sari stands amid the hellish landscape until her legs give out from underneath her. Her agonizing screams pierce the sounds of the furious ocean. As her wordless wails die down, the water freezes and a gentle snow falls on the destruction. Sari ignores the sudden serenity around her and simply stares at a frozen eye embedded in the ice at her knees.

9

“What is that horrible stench?” Nyder asks in a high-pitched voice. He tears off his goggles and looks up from the pile of mechanical parts in front of him.

“I have no idea,” Vile replies, cringing and choking back a wave of nausea. The halfling warrior draws his shortsword when he hears the sound of boots on the deck behind him.

Trinity leans on the ship’s railing and glares at the visionaire as the creature wanders away from her. She is covered in sewage from head to toe, several patches of the muck glowing an eerie green. With a growl, she pulls herself onto the railing and walks across the open air until she is standing between two of the docked ships.
The chaos elf stares at the ocean below her, her enhancer gems glowing from under the sewage.

“What happened to you?” Vile asks from the ship. He peers down at the water and sees a circle of bubbles far below
his ally’s feet. “Stupid question since you smell like a sewer. How did you get into such a mess?”

Trinity silently points at the visionaire, which is playful
ly exploring a pile of rope with its trunk. The boiling water blasts up, filling the dockyards with steam and embracing Trinity in satisfying warmth. Remnants of her soiled clothing float through the air, igniting and burning before they hit the ground. Only a hazy silhouette of the chaos elf queen can be seen through the water spout as she rubs at her skin and hair. After several minutes, the water dies down and Trinity leaps back onto the ship. Two chaos elves are already running across the deck with an ebony robe that they wrap around their naked queen.

“Thank you. Destroying my clothes was a last second decision,”
she whispers to the pair, reaching out to stroke their cheeks. Both of the young chaos elves blush before bowing and returning to their duties below deck. “Care to ask your question again, General Vile? I shouldn’t have to go into details.”

“I apologize for the ridiculous questioning
. Would you care to explain what happened?”

Trinity jabs a finger at the visionaire and scowls at the oblivious beast.
“That stupid creature kept getting me lost! It was distracted by everything. Do you know how many magical devices are under this city? There was a magical cover on one of the main sewage pipes and that . . . thing opened it before I could stop it. I was pushed across the city in a flood of filth, some of which was magical refuse from the gods know what.”

“So, you didn’t find any
aura-infused items of worth?” Nyder politely inquires. He sighs at the expression of rage on Trinity’s face. “I ask to learn if the visionaire is useful or not. I’m curious to know if we still need it.”

“Oh, I found plenty of magic items,” Trinity says, her voice on the edge of turning into a maddening cackle. She waves her hand and a foul-smelling sack falls at
the gnome’s feet, forcing him to scramble away in disgust. “I found magic rings, magic daggers, magic shoes, and even the remains of a magical orange. The visionaire chased after all of them and I had to use a tether spell to stay with it. Unfortunately, I wasn’t strong enough to keep it at bay, so I was dragged around.”

“So, the visionaire is useless,” Nyder bluntly repeats.

“Let me put it this way,” she states with a cruel smile.

Trinity tightens the sash of her robe while she
whistles an upbeat song. The visionaire immediately stomps its feet and hurries over to its master. Building up speed, the creature is a few feet from Trinity when she throws out her hand. A rolling shockwave races toward the visionaire and splits it in half. The two pieces continue running forward, one on each side of the chaos elf, until they topple to the ground. Liquid crystal pools on the deck, leaving a dry circle around Trinity’s bare feet.

“You just killed the master’s pet,” Vile points out.

“I’ll steal him a kitten,” Trinity snaps. She turns her head when she sees Nyder swiftly gather some of the visionaire’s blood in a metal bowl. “Why do I get the feeling that you wanted me to do that?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the gnome responds
, carefully pouring the blood into a funnel that is sticking out of the large device before him. “I wanted you to punish it and I would collect the blood. Now, I have more than enough to power my new invention. It will take some time to gather all this up, so be patient.”

“Here,” Trinity says with a wave of her hand. The crystalline blood rises into the air and snakes into the funnel. “I’m exhausted and want to go to bed. Make this quick and interesting,
Fortune.”

Nyder pushes the funnel into
the machine, feeling it pop into the form of a cap that blends into the black metal. His creation jerks and twitches to life, rising on a pair of legs that end in splayed talons. Its long arms spin three-hundred sixty degrees, filling the air with a loud screech until Nyder applies oil to the shoulder and elbow joints. It glances at the remains of the visionaire with six eyes of blazing gold. It hunkers down to push the corpse with the long, spiral horn that protrudes from the middle of its face. Nyder snaps his fingers and the construct’s golden, dome-shaped back opens up to release six metallic dragonfly wings.

“Impressive,” Vile
admits. He approaches the machine and bangs on its stomach, nodding at the solid sound. “Does it have any weapons?”

“More importantly, what is it called?” Trinity impatiently interrupts.

“I call it the Magic Hunter,” Nyder proudly declares. He scowls when Trinity groans and Vile walks away. “It’s a fine name.”

“You’re terrible at naming your inventions, my friend,”
the halfling replies with a helpless shrug. “Call it a Seeker Golem or anything other than Magic Hunter. It doesn’t roll off the tongue or give any sense of menace.”

The gnome stomps his foot and glares at his disappointed ally.
“It isn’t meant to be menacing. This invention is a practical method of finding the Compass Key. It will not get distracted like the visionaire and it has enough weaponry to defend itself. The name does not matter!”

“You realize we’re talking about a member of the family that named the Weapon Dragons, right?” Trinity asks Vile, her voice struggling to hold back her laughter. “I’m sorry, Nyder. This is an impressive machine and I can’t wait to
send it after the Compass Key. For now, I need to return to my quarters for food, drink, and sleep. Don’t disturb me until the sun goes down.”

Nyder stares at
the chaos elf in confusion as he claims, “I haven’t finished my demonstration yet. I went to some trouble hiding various magic items around the dockyards. It won’t take more than thirty minutes.”

The Magic Hunter is about to rise into the air when an invisible force pins it to the deck, its wings rapidly vibrating. Trinity gives
the bald gnome an irritated look and releases her spell on the construct.

“I’m in a bad mood, Nyder. I’ll destroy your toy if you keep an
noying me,” she tells the fuming inventor. She looms over him like a specter, forcing him to swallow his anger. “I trust Vile to make the decision on your invention. He knows more of these things than I do and he currently has the most patience.”

“I already have a few suggestions in regards to weaponry,”
Vile politely states while rubbing his eye-patch. “Get some rest, your highness.”

Trinity nods to the armored halfling and yawns to prove that she is exhausted. Gently patting Nyder on the shoulder as she walks by, Trinity makes her way to the stairs. Her walking gets slower with every step until a nearby chaos elf hurries to help the queen to her room. Vile and Nyder quietly watch her disappear below decks.

“That was odd,” Nyder whispers.

“
You know she is never interested in your inventions.”

“She seemed nicer than normal.”

“Because she’s exhausted and scared for her future.”

Nyder gives the halfling a sideways glance. “I didn’t think of that. She’s next on the chopping block now that the Lich is dead. I can only imagine what would happen if she fails to the get the
Compass Key.”

“I’m thinking genocide
.”

“I’m thinking test subjects,” Nyder whispers with a grin.

*****

“Lay down next to me, Delvin,” Nyx politely requests while patting the roof.

The warrior is surprised to see her clothes move as a meteor rockets over them. The illusionary sky is closer than before and full of activity. Pulsing stars make him sweat even though the night has a cool autumn breeze. Delvin cautiously lies down on the roof, his body full of tension from fear of getting struck by a meteor.

“The sky is
active tonight,” he whispers as he forces his senses through the illusion. “Is this necessary?”

“No, but it was boring and I spiced it up,” Nyx admits with an impish grin. She folds her legs and reaches up to run her hand through a patch of passing clouds. “Apprentices are supposed to see through this illusion before their third year. I opted to play with it and make this my favorite place.”

“I’m honored that you wanted to share it with me,” Delvin says, folding his hands under his head.

“I said my favorite place, not my secret place,” she sternly states. She smacks
her companion in the stomach with the Map of Depth, holding it until he takes it. “We think we’ve found a way to locate the Compass Key. The only problem is that the magical map, which I just gave to you, needs to be filled in.”

“You’re being all business tonight.”

“I’m tired and I don’t feel like flirting with you.”

“So, you were flirting.”

“I meant tolerating.”

“Sure you did.”

“I swear I will launch you into the harbor.”

Delvin sighs as he unrolls the
Map of Depth and holds it above his face. He watches some of the buildings near the griffin mountain begin to form, their black outlines growing clearer by the second. He nudges Nyx with his elbow, but the buildings swiftly disappear. Delvin sits up and scowls, shaking the map to get it to work again.

“Why didn’t it work?”
he asks, tossing the map back to Nyx.

“I haven’t bonded you to it, so it won’t hold your memories,” she answers while begrudgingly sitting up. She takes the scroll and presses it to Delvin’s chest, but he swiftly grabs her wrist. “What’s wrong? You fill in this map and I perform the ritual needed to awaken the
Compass Key. It’s a simple plan that will put us ahead of our enemies. We can finish this by the end of tomorrow if we’re lucky.”

“I don’t know about bonding me to this,” Delvin calmly says. He lies down again and watches a few comets swirl around each other. “What if something goes wrong? You said that I have a very strong aura, so it could cause trouble.”

“You have a strong aura, but nothing compared to mine,” Nyx claims while holding her hands out. She covers her body in enough aura to light up the rooftop like the midday sun. “I’ve never had a problem bonding to magic items. I have trouble accessing my magic afterwards, but it always returns. You won’t have to worry about that since you don’t have to concentrate. The map will work off your memory and not your aura.”

Delvin takes a deep breath as Nyx puts the map against his
chest again. Without warning he slips out from beneath her and jumps to his feet. He is about to say something when the roof grows a large hand that wraps around him. The caster slowly gets to her feet and approaches the trapped warrior, fire racing through her hair.

“Bard’s memory!”
the warrior blurts out, causing Nyx to hold her tongue. “We need somebody with bard’s memory. That will make things go faster and smoother.”

“Luke has bard’s memory. He forgets to use it most of the time, but he does have it,” she replies with a curious look. She taps the corner of her mouth with the map as she considers his idea. “I would need to bond this to Luke. Where is he?”

“Well . . .” the warrior starts, scratching his head in thought. He smiles when Nyx angrily glares at him. “I didn’t lose him if that’s what you’re thinking. My plan to join the griffin riders worked a little too well. Luke has to stay in the mountain until it’s safe to return to his normal form.”

She
stares at Delvin for a few seconds before breaking out into laughter. She curls up to hold her aching stomach and crushes the Map of Depth until the warrior slips it from her grasp. The illusionary sky erupts in activity, reacting to Nyx’s fit with screeching comets and swarms of swirling shooting stars. Eventually, she calms down and gasps for air while letting her body relax.

“I’m never going to let him live that down,” Nyx whispers in a voice that is still on the end of laughter. “Why did you let them do that to him?”

“I wasn’t given much of a choice.”

“Well, this makes it a nuisance,”
the half-elf admits, wiping a few remaining tears from her eyes. She rolls to her feet and climbs onto the edge of the tower, staring down at the distant garden. “Give Luke some space for a landing.”

Nyx takes a deep breath and
sings a soft, melodic tune in old Elvish. Her enchanting voice carries over the rooftops, drawing the attention of anyone that hears it. Most of the people give a quick glance at Rainbow Tower before going back to their evening tasks. A gentle breeze encircles the rooftop, clearing it of the few scraps of debris that has gathered on it. The song continues for several minutes before a chorus of roars echoes from the distant mountain. A small form appears in the sky, its flight a slow sway as it reacts to the song. Delvin is surprised when Luke comes into view and gracefully lands behind Nyx.