The Compass Key (Book 5) (35 page)

“Catch
him, Luke!” Nyx yells, flipping Timoran over her head like he is a doll. He lands on the griffin behind Delvin and they take to the air. “Be right there!”

Nyx
leaps off the pillar and sends a wave of fire at the orcs, the rush of warm air carrying her lightweight body to the griffin. He catches her in his beak and soars toward the mountain with an army of ogres smashing through buildings in pursuit.

“You cast magic on me,” Timoran says in disbelief
. “You said you would not.”

“I’m really sorry, but I gave you a chance
. Would you rather be dead?”

The barbarian
chuckles and reaches over to pat Nyx on the head. “I would not and I thank you for putting my life ahead of my pride and fear. I also apologize for letting my fear put all of us in danger.”

“You’re welcome,” Nyx says with a happy grin. “Just remember this when I’m falling into traps in that vault. The caster always stumbles into traps when exploring a vault.”

*****

“Better luck next time!” Luke shouts at the ogres pounding on the invisible barrier. His grin fades when Nyx pulls him back by his ear. “Ow! I wasn’t doing anything wrong. We’re still allowed to mock our enemies.”

“Help us figure this out, Callindor,” Delvin requests.

The four adventurers stare at the frozen waterfall blocking their path. They can see the frame of a door beyond the waterfall, but there is no way around. Nyx tries another fireball, which freezes and falls to the ground alongside her three previous attempts. Luke reaches out to touch the waterfall, finding that it is surprisingly warm. He pulls his hand back when he feels the i
ce shift under his touch.

“I’m not sure this is really ice,” Luke whispers, touching the waterfall again. The swirling feeling of the ice returns and
the sensation grows beneath his fingers. “The longer I touch the waterfall, the more I feel it move. I don’t see it moving, but I can sense it churning. Almost like it’s frozen in time instead of being turned into ice.”

“
Time magic is beyond me,” Nyx admits, walking over to a small table that holds six large conch shells. “What about these things? They have to mean something if they’re in the protected area.”

“Maybe we use them in a specific order,” Timoran suggests. He tries to
lift one of the shells, but it sticks to the table. “They are impossible to move. Possibly time magic like the waterfall.”

Delvin steps away from the waterfall and strokes his chin
, his mind racing to figure out the puzzle. “We’re missing something. The water is frozen in time and possibly those shells are too. Even if that Stephen guy did this, there would be a way around it. Gabriel has enough influence to alter such a spell. It would be easier to think if those ogres would shut up and leave us alone.”

Timoran turns to the ogres and walks to the edge of the barrier. The
beasts greedily eye the barbarian and lick their lips, hungry for fresh meat. He patiently walks along the edge until he stops in front of the largest ogre, the towering monster staring down at him with a look of contempt. Timoran sighs as he beckons for the ogre to lean forward, the other champions watching with growing curiosity. Once the giant enemy is in reach, the mighty warrior grabs it by the head and snaps its neck in one smooth motion. He roars with all of his strength before tossing the body into the scattering crowd.

“You merely need to prove you are the bigger monster,” Timoran declares
in a low, predatory voice. “Now you may concentrate, my friend.”

Not having anything to say,
Delvin nods and goes to the waterfall to feel the sensation that Luke described. Tapping at the frozen water, the warrior peers into it to see if it’s an illusion or there is a hidden keyhole. His attention is stolen when his foot slips into the hole in the ground that swallows the water. The sensation of something sharp forces him to pull his foot back, the sole of his boot cleanly sliced. Getting to his hands and knees, he examines the hole to find that the edges are razor sharp. Bringing his face within an inch of the hole, Delvin notices a swirling pattern along the eroded stone.

“The
Compass Key is glowing,” Nyx says, holding the relic out to Delvin. The gems are emitting a black aura and humming a lilting tune that puts the caster on edge. “Maybe we have to use this to open every temple’s front door. It would make sense given its name. I’ll touch it to the waterfall.”

“
I think we should be cautious,” Timoran suggests as he inches behind the table.

“I don’t see anywhere to put the
Compass Key,” Luke adds, hoping to dissuade Nyx from experimenting with the relic.

She
ignores everyone and holds the artifact against the waterfall, the gems’ black aura growing thicker. A Compass Key-shaped opening appears on the frozen surface and steadily draws it in. Nyx continues holding onto the item as it slips into the hole and throbs with warm magic. She ignores the high-pitched whine of the waterfall as it moves, her attention locked on the relic.

Delvin is a blur of motion as he tackles
the caster, his shoulder knocking the wind out of her lungs. Her hands reflexively erupt in flames to attack until she sees the warrior’s belt pouch touch the waterfall and get sheared off. The swirling waterfall is rushing into the ground at an alarming speed, giving it enough force to cut through anything that touches it. The Compass Key hovers inside the water and makes a dull humming noise that makes the adventurers sleepy if they listen to it for too long.

“How did you know it would do that?”
she asks, slipping out from underneath her ally.

“That hole isn’t natural. It was cut into the ground,” Delvin answers, getting to his feet and
offering Nyx a hand. “I didn’t like the sound of that whine when the Compass Key touched it, but I wasn’t sure what would happen. As soon as I saw the water start to roil, I realized where these weird markings in the hole came from.”

“I guess we figure out the shell
s now,” Luke says with a sigh. He looks over the conch shells and picks up the smallest one without a problem. “It’s vibrating and humming. I’m not sure I want to play this like an instrument.”

“It would knock out your teeth,” Timoran
claims while he picks up the largest shell. He turns it over in his hand, feeling the rough texture against his palm. “I am sure that we must pick one. The others would be traps of some kind. If we do not play them then we must touch them to the waterfall.”

Nyx approaches the table and looks at the four remaining shells. She glances at the
Compass Key, running a hand through the edge of her hair. Picking up one of the shells, the caster holds it in front of her as if aiming it at the waterfall. Her eyes glow a soft green and she floats the shell toward the suspended artifact. She stops an inch away, making sure not to touch the waterfall and risk setting off another trap.

Nyx smiles proudly and returns the shell to the table, her fingers wiggling in the excitement.
“The openings in the conch shells are all the same size. They’re perfect for fitting onto the Compass Key. There has to be a clue to help us figure out which shell is the right one. Look around for any faded writing or pictures.”

Everyone
picks a spot as they silently check the area, only Delvin being brave enough to search around the waterfall. Nyx scans the protected zone with her magic sight, squinting when Delvin’s sun-like aura comes into view. Timoran picks up fallen stones and checks them for faded writing, tossing them outside of the barrier when they prove to be useless. Luke focuses on the table and the shells, going so far as to crawl underneath and feel along the rough wooden underside.

“We are not having any luck,” Timoran announces when he runs out of stones. “I think Luke is asleep under the table.”

“I’m thinking,” the forest tracker responds as he crawls out and tightens his leather armor patches. “I’m guessing the clue is hidden by magic.”

“If it is then I can’t find it,” Nyx responds with a tired sigh.

“Well, we can’t call out for a clue,” Delvin says with a yawn. He shrugs and turns to the mountain with his arms spread wide. “Please, great temple, give us a clue to help us enter and save our friend.”

A sudden rumble knocks everyone, except Timoran, off their feet. Small stones roll down the mountain as another quake hits. The shells bounce around the table as the sound and vibration of giant footsteps gets louder. With a thunderous boom, the footsteps stop and the sound of grinding ice can be heard coming from behind the waterfall.

“Answer the siren with the banshee,” states a deep, guttural voice.

The adventurers stare at each other, hoping one of them shows understanding on their face. Stuck in confusion, they gather around the table and each take a conch shell. Timoran keeps a cautious eye on the mountain as he listens to the mysterious voices hiss-like breathing. He is startled when Luke snaps his fingers and hands him a second conch shell.

“Anybody know what a banshee is?” Delvin asks, expectantly staring at the forest tracker. “You have to know something about this with your monster knowledge. Your grandfather must have taught you about everything.”

Luke tries to touch his shell against the unclaimed one, but it moves across the table as if repelled by an invisible force.
“He wouldn’t bother teaching me about something I’d never meet. Sorry, but I only know what a siren is. They’re a type of water creature. They disguise themselves as beautiful women or handsome men, who sing to sailors. Once the sailors swim to them or crash the ship, the sirens breed and feed.”

“I don’t see how that works,” Nyx interrupts, placing her conch shell on the table. “The males would have to keep their victims alive for nine to ten months. The sailor would drown within minutes.”

“Males can carry children too. They steal the eggs out of their victims,” Luke replies, smirking at the horrified look on the caster’s face. “The natural world is cruel and brutal, big sister. Maybe the banshee is a magical construct or a demon.”

“None that I ever heard of during my training
. Could it be undead?”

“We need another clue!” Delvin calls out, receiving only silence. He can sense that the creature on the other side is annoyed with his request. “Just be patient then.”

“Choose wrong and you will perish,” the voice bluntly responds.

“
Always good to hear,” the warrior announces with a wave toward the waterfall. He stares at his conch shell for a few seconds before putting it down. “The siren and the banshee must have something in common, so we need to figure out what trait the waterfall and the conch shells share. It isn’t color or composition. It could be . . . both are based around water. Maybe the banshee is another ocean creature.”

“A riddle is never so direct,” Timoran explains
while putting his shells back. “There is hidden meaning and misdirection. The siren and the banshee are two creatures that have very little to do with our problem. Not specifically in any case. They symbolize something, but without knowing what a banshee is, we are at a loss on the answer.”

Nyx picks up
one of the shells and concentrates on them, her palms glowing with blue magic. With a curious smirk, she puts the shell down and picks up another to her ear. The magic fades away as the caster nods her head to an inaudible rhythm until she places the other conch on the table. Wiping her hands on her shirt, Nyx goes to the waterfall and puts her ear as close as she can to it. Sweat drips down the side of her head even though there is a cool breeze.

“They’re all singing,”
she declares, returning to the others. “The waterfall has a distinct humming that is coming out of the Compass Key. Each shell has a slightly different hum and vibration that I could barely feel if I remained calm while holding them. We have to figure out which conch goes on the Compass Key to open the door. If we choose wrong then there will be either an explosion that kills the person holding the shell or the waterfall will tear all of us to shreds. At least those are my best guesses as to how we’ll die.”

“You’re oddly casual a
bout that,” Delvin says with a nervous laugh. “Tell us which shell we need to use and I’ll be the one to do it.”

“I don’t know,”
she admits. The caster creates a spell that changes her eyes to a dull blue, but the spell steadily fades away. “They’re immune to magic, so I get nothing. I have an ear for music, but the changes are too subtle. I can only sense that they’re different, which doesn’t help me match them.”

“Timoran can do it with
his acute hearing,” the former mercenary suggests.

“I can hear
the shells now that I know about the humming, but it is very faint,” the barbarian responds.

Delvin kicks a small rock at the waterfall, watching it get eaten away in less than a second. “Then we’re back where we started.”

“Everyone be quiet,” Luke requests, blindfolding his eyes with a strip of cloth from his bag.

The others
watch Luke walk to the waterfall, stopping a foot away with his ear cocked toward the deadly water. He taps his foot and nods his head to the rhythm until it is constantly going through his mind. Luke walks back to the table, his feet imitating the odd beat. Focusing on the conch shells, his rhythm breaks and reforms several times until he chooses one and returns to the steady beat. Returning to the waterfall, he makes sure that the rhythms match before taking the blindfold off.