The Compass Key (Book 5) (28 page)

“You know we can’t do that,” Cyril replies with a sigh. He crosses his arms and leans against the door, his eyes risking a quick glance at his wife. “Our job is to contain her until Nyx and her friends retrieve this Compass Key. I was hoping to get information from her and learn more, but she claims to know nothing.”

“She doesn’t know anything,” Willow insists, her blond hair rustling from a mysterious breeze. “I used truth spells on her and got nothing.”

Cyril turns back to Trinity with a look of disgust on his face. “Those spells never worked on Nyx and this one is her equal. We can’t get any information out of her unless we use pain, but I sense a tortured aura that would force us to betray our morals. What kind of life could create a caster like this?”

“A brutal one,” Trinity states, shifting in the chair. She growls as she tries to stand up against the magic keeping her in the
seat. “I’m tired of being talked about like I’m a monster or not in the room. Nyx and her friends have already left for the Compass Key and I’m not going into the sewers to wander after them. Let me go and I promise to leave your daughter alone until our next encounter.”

Willow jabs her staff at Trinity, creating a gust of wind that knocks the chair against the wall. The impact is enough to rattle
the chaos elf’s teeth and make her body ache. Flexing her fingers and feet, she can feel the magic trying to restrain her. With a proud smirk, Trinity sticks her tongue out at the white-robed caster. Willow angrily spins her staff and sends their prisoner, chair and all, slamming into another wall. Not easing up, she spins the woman and throws her against the ceiling, the chaos elf’s face leaving a bloodstain on the white paint.

“Stop it!” Cyril
shouts, grabbing Willow’s staff. He points his own at Trinity and eases their prisoner down to the floor. “This isn’t like you.”

“She tried to kill our daughter!” Willow shrieks, her motherly rage erupting.

Blood is dripping down Trinity’s face from a gash on her forehead. Her nose is awkwardly pushed to the side until she coughs and magically resets it with a crack. “You know, your daughter has tried to kill me a few times. It’s what we do and it has very little to do with either of you.”

“Shut up!” Cyril snaps. He makes a quick gesture and an invisible hand grabs
the chaos elf by the chin, forcing her to look at the dark caster. “If you wish to continue upsetting us then I cannot stop you, but be warned that you’re risking your own life by playing these games.”

“That’s an empty threat
. I can sense that you’re powerful, but you don’t have the ability to kill me. It’s strange. You feel like Nyx, only your aura is so watered down that you can’t finish me off. I’m sure you could hurt me to the point where I’d love to die, but something holds your power back. So, I suggest you let me go before I decide to take advantage of your weakness.”

“You can’t defeat both of us,” Willow says, stepping in front of Trinity.

The chaos elf crosses her legs, using her own magic to fight against the chair. “I’ve done it once before. I don’t even have to lift a finger to defeat you two. I can do it from this chair with my eyes closed.” Trinity closes her eyes and smiles. “You two are nothing to me.”

The pressure on her body disappears as the chair loses its magic and releases her. Trinity opens her eyes and leaps to her feet, cautiously staring around the room. Cyril and Willow are gone without a trace, which puts
her on edge. Slowly, she moves to the door and picks up a nearby toy rabbit. She throws the toy at the closed door and jumps back when the door creaks open.

“Those cowards had me dealing with illusions,” Trinity says in mild surprise. She rubs at her forehead gem, which is itching from the surrounding wound. “They were powerful illusions, but not enough for me.”

Slipping out of the room, she steps into the dark hallway and heads for a faint light in the distance. She turns the corner and crawls up the stairs, the silence of the tower making her even more nervous. Trinity continues moving down empty hallways until she pauses outside a room where two apprentices are talking. Vanishing from sight, she stands next to the door and listens patiently to the two boys.

“The masters have been gone for a long time
.”

“They’re busy with that chaos elf
.”

“She was scary. I mean, Nyx-like scary.”

“I think they should let her go. We don’t want trouble with the chaos elves.”

“I heard they’re going to release her in an hour.”

“Not like she has anywhere to go.”

“Why is that?”

The second boy chuckles and puts down something heavy and metal. “Didn’t you hear? The griffins attacked the ships and destroyed all of them along with a Crossbow Dragon. I heard Luke Callindor was involved.”

“So, that woman is stuck here.”

“The masters won’t keep her in the tower and the Grand Counselors don’t want her people to come back. Her royal highness has to walk back to Shayd and I’m willing to bet she’ll be killed by bandits before she gets very far.”

Trinity fights the temptation to step into the doorway and spray the apprentices with magical acid. Ignoring the laughter, she hurries down the hallway and leaps up another flight of stairs. She skids to a stop and drops her invisibility spell, her body still pressed against the cracked wall. The gaping hole at the base of the tower is at the far end of the hallway.
She can already see people walking around the destroyed garden, their yellow robes revealing them as Duragian priests.

Trinity takes a deep breath and focuses her aura, letting it wrap around her and turn into an outer skin. Gently molding the aura with her mind, she feels her hair retract into her head until it is very short. Her body shrinks a few inches and her skin turns from cobalt to porcelain. Her leather clothes transform into a red shirt and black pants. A crossbow and a mourning star appear on her belt, their images vibrating slightly whenever she moves her hips. Trinity fixes this by creating a black cloak that rolls down from her shoulders and reaches around her neck.

When she is confident that her transformation is complete, Trinity walks down the hallway in the illusionary form of Nyx. She strides into the garden without slowing down, nodding to a few priests who briefly look up at her. If they are surprised to see Nyx leaving Rainbow Tower, they make no sign of it. Trinity is across the garden and free on the streets of Gaia within minutes.

13

A blinding light bursts from the hole that Timoran’s great axe makes in the sewer’s floor. The golden glow fills the tunnel as if trying desperately to escape from a tomb. Her eyes covered in a dark film, Nyx sticks her head into the opening and feels Delvin hold her ankles. The ceiling and walls are covered in glowing plants that rustle in the breeze flowing through the hole.

With a snap of her fingers, Nyx dims the lights enough to allow her to see clearly.
Far beneath her is a small building, its black stone walls acting as a beacon of darkness in the brightly lit chamber. The pyramid-shaped roof is caved in on one side, a massive boulder sitting in the rubble. From her high vantage point, Nyx can see that the rest of the simple structure is untouched.

“The building is smaller than I expected,”
she says as she pulls her head out of the hole. She draws a long rope out of her belt pouch and hands it to Timoran. “I’m going to float down with Delvin. I assume you’ll want to climb down, Timoran.”

“Thank you,” he replies, taking the rope and
getting a grappling hook out. He carefully ties the rope to the curved tool, making sure the knot can hold his weight. “Do you see any dangers?”

Nyx waves her hands and feels a jolt of energy through her body.
“A boulder caved in part of the building, but I’m sure that happened while the Great Cataclysm was happening. I wouldn’t get my hopes up on finding many traps or a big fight. This place was never meant to be hidden so I doubt they put a lot of traps on it. As for monsters, they would have turned to dust by now unless they were undead or demonic.”

“I think the ground is made of gold,” Delvin
says, peering into the opening and squinting into the distance. “Maybe it’s a trick of the light, but I swear the ground is shining like gold. I wonder if something made a treasure horde out of this place. Though, I don’t know how anything could get in and out of here.”

Nyx rolls her eyes and takes
the warrior by the arm, her touch creating a layer of blue aura around his body. She grins before shoving the warrior into the hole and dropping after him. The pair plummets to the ground with Delvin holding his breath and Nyx throwing her arms out to enjoy the ride. A few feet from the ground, the pair can feel her spell unwrap from their bodies, creating bubbles of soft aura around them. They strike the ground and bounce, filling the silent chamber with the sound of rattling metal bones. Nyx dispels the bubbles and lands on her feet while Delvin falls on his hands and knees.

“Golden bones,”
he whispers in disbelief, holding up a shimmering femur. He is still staring at the remains as he walks over to the dangling rope, steadying it to help Timoran climb down. “I see bones from all of the major races, but they’re all gold. Could it have been a spell or are these an ancient race? Maybe a dormant undead that will awaken if we disturb the Compass Key.”

“They’re trophies,” Nyx bluntly says. She reaches down to grab a halfling’s rib and snaps it in half, revealing the natural marrow inside. “I
read about ancient warlords doing this long before the Great Cataclysm. When a prisoner died, they were stripped of skin and meat, leaving only the bones. The skeletons were dipped in melted gold that had been enchanted to bond to the remains instead of destroy them.”

“What was the point?” Delvin asks as he releases the rope.
The barbarian drops to the ground and shatters several bones under his booted feet.

“They put the trophies around their fortresses or dungeons,” the
large warrior answers, reaching down to pick up a dwarf’s skull. “Other warlords looked at the gold armies as symbols of prowess. The bigger the army, the more influential and feared you were. I believe it had to do with demonstrating bloodlust and ruthlessness.”

“Given the size and shape of that
building, I’m going to say this was a dungeon,” Nyx whispers, making her way to the black stone structure. She takes the rough-edged steps by twos, noticing that there are hundreds of scrapes and scuff marks. “Definitely a dungeon. It looks like prisoners were occasionally dragged up these stairs.”

“Do not run ahead, Nyx! The entrance could be trapped!” Timoran shouts as he hurries after
the half-elf. He notices a brief distortion over the open entrance of the jail and runs faster. “Nyx, stop!”

She
turns in mid-step to look at her friends, her feet slipping on the fragile stone. She stumbles backwards over the top step, her arms flailing wildly. A violent push strikes her upper back and Nyx flies down the stairs. She is about to cast a spell to cushion her fall when Delvin dives to catch her. Golden bones are crushed beneath the pair as she lands on the chivalrous warrior with an angry grunt.

“Are you hurt, Nyx?” Delvin asks. He cringes in mild pain and pulls a spine out from underneath him.

“I’m fine,” she quickly replies while getting to her feet. She hurls a small fireball at the entrance and watches it ricochet off a shimmering barrier. “What kind of magical barrier is that? It felt like I ran into it and bounced off without it giving an inch. Best way to describe it is that I was ejected from the area.”

“Must be old magic,” Timoran responds with a shrug. He hurls the dwarf’s skull at the entrance with all of his strength. He ducks as the skull comes hurtling back with enough force to become golden powder upon impact with the ground. “It appears the barrier reflects force and increases it. We should try to go around and get in through another door or a window.”

Delvin leads the way to the left side of the building, but stops everyone before they can go around the corner. The ground is clear of golden bones and there is a level of cleanliness to the area that puts the warrior on edge. Focusing on the floor, he watches it fade away to reveal the sewers below. He pulls the Map of Depth out of his belt and is surprised to find that the chamber has changed. Half of the map has turned black, showing that the building is sitting at the edge of a pit.

“The earth must have caved in during the Great Cataclysm,” Delvin whispers as he backs away. He sees Nyx squinting ahead and eases her back with a hand on her arm. “Don’t strain yourself t
rying to see across the pit. The map says it goes to the other side and blocks us from all other entrances. Can your magic get us to one of the other doors?”

The half-elf
puts her hand over the chasm, pulling it back immediately as if something tried to bite her. “No. My spells will fade the moment they cross over the chasm. The Great Cataclysm created pockets that prevent the use of magic. They’re rare and were formed by severe trauma to the region like the ground plummeting and taking what could have been thousands of people with it.”

“Then we must get through the barrier,” Timoran states with a tired sigh.

The barbarian returns to the entrance with the others following him at a distance. The smaller adventurers prepare to dive out of the barbarian’s way if the barrier throws him. They watch him tap on the barrier, his arm being violently shoved back. Timoran rubs his shoulder and is about to try something else when he sees something drift across the dark entrance. He quickly leans forward, forgetting the barrier until it knocks him back a few feet. Delvin catches the large man before he falls down the stairs and gestures for Nyx to examine the barrier.

The interior of the building suddenly erupts with light and
the caster lets out a shriek of surprise and terror. She staggers away from the translucent being standing a few inches away from her. Staring at her with dead eyes, the specter floats into the barrier and releases an echoing screech as it is torn apart. The noise attracts other forms that ooze out of the walls and gather in the entry hall. None of the ghosts dare to get any closer to the barrier, so they stop and gaze at the three adventurers.

“You don’t run into ghosts that often,” Delvin whispers, placing a calming hand on Nyx’s shoulder. He gently eases her back and watches the ghosts hover above the floor. “They’re from so many races. I don’t even recognize a few of them.”

A pure white ghost moves through the crowd, the others scattering at its terrifying presence. Hairless and black-eyed, this phantom stands at its towering height and hisses at the barrier. Spectral poison is dripping from its horizontal ears that resemble twisted horns. The ghost opens its mouth to reveal rows of glowing teeth, their sharp edges looking all too solid and deadly.

“It’s a Hejinn,” Nyx whispers, her mouth going dry and her heart racing. Unable to stop herself, she slips behind Delvin to avoid the ghost’s hungry
sight. “I didn’t know those things could become ghosts. This place must be pre-civilization if a Hejinn died in here.”

“There were cities before the first elves were made,” Timoran points out. He bares his teeth at the ghost and roars, but the
creature refuses to back down. “Those monsters enslaved the world and were wiped out for it. The warlord who owned this jail might have found a survivor and imprisoned it for study. A man cruel enough to turn skeletons into gold trophies would not hesitate to use this type of monster for his own ends.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that ghost is stuck on the other side of the barrier,” Nyx says before taking a deep, cleansing breath. She scratches her head and shakes a loose hair off her hand. “Think we can tunnel down and come back up? I can use my magic, but it’ll make me
really tired.”

Delvin opens his mouth to respond, but pauses when he sees Nyx’s loose hair float toward the barrier. It makes a slight dip, briefly running along the barrier until it is
mysteriously pulled through. The warrior crouches to get a closer look at the hair as it touches the barrier and is pulled through again. Stroking his chin, Delvin stands and puts up his hand to touch the barrier. Nyx swiftly grabs him by the wrist, trying to pull him back.

“What are you doing?”

“Your hair was pulled through twice. I think you can pass the barrier if you stroke your hand down it. You have to be gentle, using as little force as possible or you’ll be flung away like we’ve seen so far.”

“It makes sense,” Timoran agrees, drawing his
great axe and preparing to imitate Delvin. “The barrier reflects force, so the trick is to use no true force. We shall all go on the count of three.”

“I say we go now!” Nyx exclaims as she coats her hands with a green flame.

Delvin looks at the barrier in time to see the Hejinn ghost passing through without being torn apart. He is drawing his longsword when Nyx dives forward and grabs the Hejinn’s face, the green fire making it growl in pain. Thrashing to escape from the magical flames, the Hejinn jerks and is yanked back through the barrier, along with Nyx. She barely has time to realize what is going on when all of the ghosts turn in her direction. Punching the Hejinn ghost out of the way, Nyx covers her entire body in the ghost-striking fire and waits for them to attack.

“Come on! I’m not going
anywhere and I’ve been itching for a fight!”

The half-elf
notices their eyes looking to her right and she turns in time to feel the Hejinn’s hand drive into her chest. The ghost’s phantasmal flesh sizzles at the touch of the flames, but it is able to scratch at her aura. Her senses numbed by fear, she can barely hear the muted yells and screams of her friends as they rush the barrier and are sent hurtling away. The moment the ghost focuses enough to wrap its hand around her heart, Nyx’s panic takes over and the green flame erupts from her body. The magical fire disintegrates the Hejinn ghost and rolls down the hallway, devouring any phantoms that are too slow to escape. With a high-pitched crash, the barrier shatters and fades away.

“Nyx!” Delvin yells as he rushes to her side.

“That was far too close,” Nyx says, clutching her chest. She can feel the warmth returning to her heart as she takes a deep breath. “So, shall we get this little adventure over with?”

*****

“Where were we before that guard interrupted us?” Kira asks as she approaches Luke. She sits next to the young warrior, her legs dangling over the edge of the dock. “We were talking about you and Sari. So, there’s a spark between you two, but not like the one that we have. Care to elaborate?”

Luke glances at her, his mouth slightly open in crippling fear. He gulps a few times and stares at the griffins patrolling the sky. Feathers begin to sprout from his neck, but they vanish when Kira pinches his arm and pushes him off the dock.
The half-elf spins swiftly to catch the edge with two fingers. He gets a better grip and is about to climb up when the heiress lies down, her face inches above his own.

“Don’t you dare fly away from me, Luke Callindor,” Kira growls, pulling out two vials from her pockets. She pours the clear, sour-smelling liquid on Luke’s hands and tucks the vials into her sleeves. “That’s a quick-acting liquid mortar that gnomes call glue. Your hands are stuck to the dock and the only way out is the anti-glue I have in my pocket.”

“I thought you were okay with Sari,” he finally says, his eyes wide from the strain on his arms. He tries to pull his hands free, stopping when it feels like he is about to tear his skin off. “Let me up, Kira! My arms are killing me!”

“The strong
warrior isn’t as powerful as we all thought.”

“This
strong warrior just battled a Crossbow Dragon in mid-air!”

“Damn it,” Kira softly mutters. She gets the anti-glue and dangles the spray bottle in front of Luke’s face. “Swear that you won’t fly away and I’ll use this. You can swear on whatever you want, but it better be good.”