The Northward Journey (Book II)
Three chapter preview of Book II of the High Realm Trilogy. A family-friendly trilogy of books for both adults and child readers.
An audio reading of the first three chapters of this book can be enjoyed here.
The book can be purchased on Amazon stores here.
Chapter One
OVER THE RAGING SEA
Sam was on the upper deck of the first skysailer - a sky yacht - looking across to the other skysailer – a sky galleon - attached to the first by many long ropes and a small wooden bridge across the empty air. He was thinking about Creta.
It had been quite the farewell ceremony. The square had been packed with members of a huge crowd, possibly the whole Cretan population. All of them throwing rose petals and cheering so loudly, Sam suspected that they never heard what the elder had said.
He barely heard the elder himself.
On the small stage and to the sound of trumpets, the elder and councilmen of Creta presented Sam, Stella, Morgana and Alfwuld with golden medallions and declared them “Heroes of the Island”. As a final token of appreciation, they were made honorary citizens of Creta and told they were always welcome on the island.
The band played a piece of beautiful music before they boarded the luxury sky yacht and it rose off the ground to the sadness and joy of the adoring crowds. Sad because their heroes were leaving them but joyful because they were going back to their homeland with the greatest treasure Creta could offer.
The treasure on board the galleon was large. Sam hadn’t seen so much gold in his life, two wooden chests full of it. They were also gifted two brass cannons and a collection of pikes and sabres.
They had all been given individual gifts as well.
Stella had received hers long before the ceremony, the purple wizard hat with the annoying bell on the top.
Alfwuld had also received his before departure, a magnificent, dark-blue tunic and a matching cap.
Morgana had been given a large case filled with mechanical tools and on the galleon skysailer they had installed an alchemist’s laboratory at her request.
According to Morgana, Herbert wanted the scissors and some of the picks on his arms replaced with swords so the blacksmiths on Creta had gathered half a dozen sabres and attached them to his limbs.
It took a while for Sam to decide what he wanted, eventually, he asked for a singing sword. The journey was likely to be uneventful but after seeing Alfwuld’s long knife, he knew he wanted a weapon equally powerful to defend himself just in case. The council had informed him that they didn’t know whether they would be able to make a blade like that or find one in time for the ceremony but they said they’d try.
Shortly before the ceremony, they had told him they had found a singing sword. Sam had been very excited until he saw the blade the elder presented him, it was Flamboyance. The useless sword with an enchantment which always kept it clean and shiny. Sam had smiled politely but he wasn’t very happy with it. Nevertheless, the sword was in its sheath hanging from his belt now. Better something than nothing.
The white sky yacht which Sam was standing on was the most unique skysailer he had seen. Not that Sam had seen many, his tutor had told him about Mystos being a city filled with skysailer builders but he had only learnt recently that the Cretans also built many themselves. Nevertheless, the skysailers he had seen were pulled up by bags of gas into the sky, but this one did not have them. This skysailer was instead lifted off the ground by three elevation generators which protruded from the bottom of the hull, their corkscrew-like swirls vibrating and heating the air around them until it turned hot and murky. The lack of an airbag allowed sails to be attached to the two masts of the vessel and these at the moment were full with wind and pulling the skysailer forwards.
The skysailer attached to the yacht, however, was of a normal design; a large, tube-shaped airbag was forty feet above the deck and connected by loops of thick rope. The sails for the skysailer would have been on the sides of the poop deck and on the bow but they had been taken off because the sky yacht was the one pulling both skysailers forwards.
“Master.”
Sam turned and saw one of the sky yacht colossi looking at him, the captain to be precise. There were fifteen colossi crewing the yacht, only one of them could speak and it was this one, the captain. Like the other crew colossi, the captain was made of clean polished bronze and resembled a muscular man wearing nothing but a loincloth; it was distinguished from the others by its curly metal beard and the helmet on its head which looked too small for it.
“The Raging Sea in an hour, over it we should have finished flying,” the colossus said in a dark masculine voice, “on the main deck in half an hour’s time, a luncheon will be served.”
Sam nodded and the colossus walked back down to the main deck where already a table was being prepared. It was strange to think that just three weeks ago, he had been trapped in a labyrinth not knowing when his next meal would be but now he was on one of the most beautiful skysailers in the world and waited on hand and foot by uncomplaining servants.
Looking down from the poop deck to the water hundreds of feet below, he could see the Raging Sea. This was the stretch of water that surrounded Creta for miles and stopped any ship from approaching the island. Waves as tall as hills and mountains crashed on top of each other before rising again and stretching upwards towards the sky. According to the Cretans, the Raging Sea calmed the further one travelled and turned into the normal fair-sailing waters of the Southern Ocean.
Sam decided that he was tired being by himself and walked across the poop deck towards the gangway attaching the sky yacht to the sky galleon to see if he could find the others. He knew that Morgana and Herbert would be below the galleon’s deck and it was likely Stella would be around there as well, Alfwuld was probably still in the main gallery lying on a sofa and admiring the chandelier.
Despite the gangway being completely secure and having high rails on either side, Sam did feel a bit of vertigo walking across it. It felt strange being this high in the sky and being able to see so much for miles around, Sam didn’t know whether he would ever get used to it.
He walked across the galleon’s deck and reached the downstairs entrance to the lower deck. This galleon had been designed to transport cargo and only had three decks, the poop deck, the main deck and the lower deck (although there was also a hold but it had a very low ceiling). When it was quickly discovered that Herbert could not fit on the yacht, Morgana and some shipwrights had selected this galleon and done some work on it. They cut out a large section in both the lower deck and the hull, fixed a pulley system on the roof of the lower deck and then pulled Herbert up into the skysailer and covered the openings with two trapdoors.
When Sam walked below deck he saw Herbert the great mining colossus secured to the ceiling’s rafters with thick ropes so he wouldn’t crash around the skysailer. Sam saw Morgana sitting at a table fiddling with a small metal box of some kind, other tools and pieces of equipment were on the table next to her but he didn’t recognize what they were. As always, Morgana was wearing her white dress and had moved her barely brushed hair behind her back so it did not get in the way of her silent and methodical work.
“What are you working on?” he asked moving towards her.
Morgana didn’t look up from her work and instead picked up another tool from one of the boxes on the table.
“I am assembling an experimental weapon,” she said, ‘I drew up the designs and sent them to the blacksmiths on Creta. But I knew they wouldn’t know how to put it together correctly so I only asked them to make the components.’
“Why are you making a weapon?” Sam asked, but he already knew the answer.
“We have a long journey ahead,” Morgana said, “anything could happen.”
There was a serious silence as Morgana’s words hung in the air.
But it was quickly broken by the sound of a small bell and a colourfully dressed shadow wisp floating down the stairs below deck.
“Hey Morgana! Hey Sam! Hey Herbert!” Stella said, her purple dress and petticoat trailing behind her. She was carrying a small vase of flowers in her pink mittens. “Aren’t these pretty?” she asked, holding up the colourful flowers. “It is so dreary down here I thought I’d bring some flowers. Morgana, where should I put these?”
Morgana turned without energy.
“Put them in the corner where they won’t get in the way please,” she replied.
Stella seemed to deflate and the bell on the bendy tip of her hat made several sad ding-a-lings.
“In a corner?” Stella said, unhappily, “but that means no one will see them. And there’s no light in the corner! Let me put them on the table next to the window.”
Stella floated towards the other side of the deck where two large tables had been set up which were stacked with glass tubes, bottles, vases and other strange, delicate instruments Sam didn’t recognize.
“No!” said Morgana rushing towards Stella.
Stella turned and Morgana snatched the vase from her mittens.
“That is my alchemy set,” she said walking away with the vase, “the instruments have to be clean and pristine. If they are exposed to any foreign matter such as the pollen of these flowers, then my experiments might be made invalid.”
Morgana placed the vase in the corner twenty feet away from Herbert and went back to the worktop table.
“Where did you get those flowers?” Sam asked. “I can’t remember seeing any flowers on the sailer.”
“Oh,” said Stella, “you know the house we were staying at? I picked the flowers there. I’ve got ten baskets full!”
Sam wondered whether Stella had actually asked the very kind owners of the house for permission to pick those flowers but decided he didn’t want to know the answer. Stella didn’t understand the concept of private gardens, probably because shadow wisps didn’t have them; it was highly likely she hadn’t asked the gardener if she could take those flowers. Not that it mattered, nothing could be done about it now; they were miles away from Creta and if the captain colossus was correct it was another day’s travel to the mainland.
He looked back to the alchemy set that Morgana was eager to keep the flowers from; it triggered a memory about something his tutor –Jeremy– had told him back in Tolheath.
“Are you trying to make gold?” he asked Morgana.
“No,” she replied.
“Isn’t that what you are supposed to do with an alchemy set?” Sam asked. “My tutor told me that the first alchemists were trying to create the elixir of transmutation.”
“They were,” Morgana said, “but once the methods of physical inquiry were implemented in the field of alchemy the search for that elixir was given up. No serious alchemist concerns himself with trying to create that liquid.”
“But it exists doesn’t it?” Sam asked, “the people of Kun Banog Doroka made it once and lived in a city of gold.”
Morgana wasn’t looking at Sam and was instead tinkering with some components on the nearby table.
“I’ve only read a little about Kun Banog Doroka,” she said, “but most scholars believe it is a myth. As well as the elixir itself.”
There was the sound of a loud bell ringing on the opposite skysailer. It was the dinner bell.
“Well timed! I am starving,” said Sam, “let’s go and eat,” he said, speaking to everyone.
Nobody could disagree with this idea and everyone (excluding Herbert) made their way to the yacht. A table covered with a white cloth had been prepared on the quarterdeck and laid on it were numerous dishes covered by silver bowls. Everyone took a seat and Sam noticed that Alfwuld wasn’t there.
He asked one of the nearby colossi.
“Where’s Alfwuld?”
This one didn’t have a sculpted beard but instead was clean shaven with sharp, chiselled features. It didn’t respond because it hadn’t been made to talk.
At that moment, two colossi came up the stairway on the main deck carrying a small sofa and lying upon it propped up by cushions was the penguin called Alfwuld. He was wearing his magnificent blue tunic and despite the fact he was lying down, he was somehow able to keep his small cap on his head.
“Greetings my friends,” he said, as the colossi placed the sofa next to the table.
“Is that really necessary?” Sam asked unimpressed. “You could just walk to the table.”
“Yes I could but these staircases have not been made for… this form,” the cursed prince replied, “besides, we should relax after our adventures or misadventures depending on your point of view. And this skysailer is perfect for that! I shall have to order the construction of a warehouse at the Royal Castle to house it.”
“But the sailer belongs to all of us,” said Stella, confused, “wasn’t it a gift to all of us?”
“Yes,” said Alfwuld, “but we will have to keep it safe somewhere and where better than the castle where the king and the prince of High Realm dwell? Such a beautiful skysailer will reflect well on the kingdom and send positive signals to neighbouring countries. You’d all be able to use whenever you want of course.”
As they were talking, the colossi removed the silver bowls revealing the food that was the lunch of the day; dishes of lobster, fish, fruit and piles of sandwiches stuffed with delicious fillings. One of the colossi then brought forth a tray with glasses and a green bottle filled with a dark liquid.
“Oh yes!” said Alfwuld, “bring the bottle to me. I fear that my companions are not of an age where they will appreciate its taste. Other drinks will suffice for them. What vintage and where does it come from?”
The colossus brought the wine bottle to Alfwuld and he looked at it.
“Ah!” the penguin said nodding his head knowingly, “Landelaks may be a kingdom with only a few warriors and a nobility consisting almost purely of traders but their wine is at least as good as High Realm’s. In a few, but not all cases, it might be better than ours.”
The colossus duly obliged Alfwuld and poured him a glass of the dark red alcohol and everyone began eating, excluding Stella, who, being a shadow wisp, drank fruit juices and water. Sam hadn’t tasted such exotic or delicious food in his life, the happy people of Creta had prepared many meals during his time on the island but this was truly something else. The conversation around the table ranged from the mundane to the fascinating, how could it have been any different considering the voyage upon which they had embarked? Flying high over a sea of raging waves where supposedly no life dwelt?
Spirits were high and they all began discussing what they would do when they were back home in High Realm. Alfwuld had an entire plan with a list of steps which involved travelling to Cyningham, finding his father and breaking his curse. Morgana, who was one never to use more words than necessary, said she’d have to go back to Gretel’s Academy for Gifted Orphans with Herbert as she had studies and work to do there. Stella cheerfully said that the first thing she’d do was find her family and give them big hugs and show them the flowers she’d brought from Creta.
Sam only said that’d he find his friends, neighbours and parents to tell them he was alright. Although Sam was happy he was journeying home, he found it difficult to talk about High Realm or Tolheath too much because it gave him acute homesickness and filled him with a wistful sadness.
He missed home and he was worried for his friends and family because they didn’t know where he was; he prayed that they didn’t think he was dead.
As they finished the main course of the meal, the captain colossus approached the table.
“Masters,” it said, ‘there is an issue.’
“What’s the problem?” Morgana asked.
“The amount of coal that powers the generators,” the captain said, “to complete the journey to High Realm, we have the minimal amount necessary. Dependent on variables in the weather, the coal may not be sufficient.”
“So we should obtain more coal?” Alfwuld asked.
“That is recommended,” the captain replied.
“We could buy some more when we reach the mainland,” said Sam, “where is our next stop?”
“We are on route to Mystos,” the captain said, “we are approximately a day’s travel from that location.”
“Keep going,” said Alfwuld, “we shall buy some more coal there and then continue to High Realm.”
“Yes master,” the captain said, bowing. “Dessert is coming.”
The travel plan suited everyone but Sam had a bad feeling in his stomach and it wasn’t from the food.
Mystos, that name filled him with dread.
Chapter Two
MYSTOS
They did not arrive at Mystos for another day and a half. The captain of the colossi was right to mention how the weather could be a problem for the journey. After they had passed over the Raging Sea and found themselves flying across the calm waters of the Southern Ocean, the wind turned against them.
It wasn’t a violent wind, although it did sway the galleon side to side a bit, however, it did slow down both skysailers and meant that extra coal had to be used to keep flying forwards.
During this time not a great deal of interest happened. The yacht had a few recreational areas but they all contained things that only a rich man could appreciate and Sam wasn’t interested by them. He could not see the appeal of the sauna, for instance, why would anyone want to sit in a room for the sake of sweating? Although, there was a billiard room, which he, Stella and Morgana used to play a couple of games after Alfwuld had explained the rules to them. Aside from playing billiards, Sam stayed in the study for many hours reading books from its shelves.
Stella was all over the two skysailers, watering the flowers she’d placed on various stools and tables and engaging in conversation with anyone who wasn’t busy. Otherwise, she stayed in her cabin looking after and talking to the flowers she had planted into clay pots.
“It helps them grow,” she once told everyone, “talking to plants and flowers encourages them.”
Morgana mostly stayed on the galleon with Herbert; she said that she was trying to create something for “self-defence” and that involved her alchemy set. She refused to clarify what she was trying to do precisely but Sam guessed it had something to do with the weapon she was piecing together.
Before the journey, Sam had been teaching Morgana how to read and write in their language and he continued these lessons on the galleon with her once per day. Morgana could read and write in the language of inquiry, but not in their own language, the result of a dreadful oversight at the academy. Fortunately, Morgana was a quick learner and used what she already knew about grammar, phonology, logography and morphology to assist her and Sam was shocked by her progress, especially as he found teaching so hard and thought he was no good at it.
The whole experience gave Sam new-found respect for Jeremy back home.
Alfwuld for his part mainly stayed in the lounge area sipping wine and watching the skysailer travel above the waters from the comfort of the observatory room above the stern. He seemed to find great peace and calm watching the waves from this location.
At twelve o’clock noon on the second day, Sam was on the deck looking across the sea when he saw something in the distance; it looked like a white line spread across the horizon. He asked the captain colossus for a telescope and saw that the white line was actually the cliffs of the mainland. According to the captain they were still three hours travel from the cliffs and informed Sam that lunch would be ready in an hour’s time.
Sam was so excited that he told everyone how close they were to the mainland. Everybody was happy to hear the news and went onto the yacht’s deck immediately and took it in turns looking through a telescope.
“Hmm…” said Alfwuld, looking through a telescope which one of the colossi was holding to his eye, “I cannot spy Mystos yet.”
“Have you been to Mystos?” Sam asked, he had only heard a few stories about the city.
“No,” said Alfwuld, “but my grandfather King Alfweard of Benedictus visited the city before and he wrote a fantastic journal describing it in exquisite detail. I would recognize it from anywhere after reading his descriptions.”
The bell was rung for lunch and everyone gathered around the table to eat. An hour passed filled with eating and chatting but they didn’t seem much closer to the white cliffs or Mystos so everyone decided to go about their daily activities. In Sam’s case, he continued his reading of a book on weapon songs he had discovered in the sky yacht’s study.
It was an interesting book and was far more informative than most of the responses Sam had managed to provoke out of Alfwuld on the subject. Although Alfwuld had been giving Sam lessons on how to use short swords such as Flamboyance (on how to direct the blade, where to place his feet, how to switch between stances etc.), Alfwuld wasn’t a very good teacher even though he tried hard and clearly wanted to teach him. When asked about weapon songs, the prince penguin was tight-lipped –so to speak- and kept telling him that he would hear them one day if he learnt how to fight better.
This book was far superior to Alfwuld in this narrow regard. Essentially, the enchantments on a weapon could be triggered making it more lethal in battle if the wielder “danced” to the weapon’s song. However, to “dance” with the weapon and use its “song”, the wielder had to use the weapon in a manner which suited it. Or in other words, the wielder actually had to know how to use the weapon properly. The book also said that weapon songs were not easy to hear but if a man stayed around a singing weapon long enough, his ears would “attune to the music of the weapon”. It also mentioned that the more powerful or better composed the song, the easier it would be to hear even for a novice.
Sam certainly hoped that was true, not because he wanted to hear the song of his sword Flamboyance – which according to Alfwuld was shrill and horrible - but because he wanted to hear the song of Alfwuld’s long knife. Alfwuld had still not told anyone the name of the long knife he had found in the giant spiders’ nest and Sam knew it had to be embarrassing and he wanted to tease the penguin.
He quickly became engrossed in the book and was startled by Stella flying into the room behind him.
“We’re arriving in Mystos!” she said excitedly, “I’ve never seen such tall towers!”
Sam put the book down and quickly ran up the stairs and onto the main deck and to the front of the yacht. The skysailers were now flying only fifty feet above the waves of the sea, providing an impressive view of the city they were approaching.
Immediately ahead was a large, black rock standing above the waves and on top of it was a tall tower of white stone. It had a large dome roof, half of which was made of what appeared to be glass and the other of the same white stone as the base.
Sam guessed it had to be the Great Lighthouse of Mystos which he had read about in a book inside Tolheath Library. The glass section of the lighthouse’s domed top faced the waters opposite the bay which was fitted with man-made docks, platforms and stairways hewn of white stone. Hundreds of ships were docked, almost all of them were unknown to Sam as High Realm was not a seafaring nation, but he knew enough to identify the fishing boats and Alfwuld was able to identify the flags on many of the larger ships.
The chalk cliffs of the bay were not immensely tall but there was no natural path up them from the docks and so the inhabitants of the region had constructed a massive set of white and grey stone steps up the cliff to the walled city above.
The first thing that struck Sam about Mystos was the whiteness and cleanliness of the city’s stonework, the second was the tall towers that stood high above the city walls. From this distance, it was difficult to be sure of anything about them other than their great height and the massive profile they had against the bright blue sky but Sam thought he could make out a few differences between the towers. Some were shorter and thinner than others but the most pronounced difference had to be the roofs, some were cone-shaped, others were dome-shaped and a few even appeared to be pyramid-shaped. Most of the roofs were not white but either a black or dark blue but again, they were still a mile away from the city so it was difficult to be sure of this.
The overall effect of seeing the lighthouse, the docks and the city itself atop the cliff was one of awe and wonder.
“Wow!” Sam breathed.
“Indeed,” Alfwuld said, held up by a colossus next to Sam, “my grandfather’s account does it incredible justice.”
“I’ve never seen buildings so tall,” said Stella, excited, “these beat the tallest trees back home! It must be amazing inside!”
Morgana walked across the gangway from the galleon onto the yacht and stood next to them. Her eyes slowly and methodically glancing at the sights before them. She didn’t say anything though.
It was not long till they had passed the lighthouse and started approaching the docks. Their skysailers were not the only ones there, a few others could be seen in the water docked like actual sea-going ships.
The colossi crewing the sky yacht found an empty pier and landed their skysailers beside it and began mooring. Upon finishing this and setting down the gangplank from the sky yacht to the stone pier below, a man wearing important-looking white and blue clothes rushed up towards them.
“Excuse me,” he said, moving up the ramp and onto the deck of the sky yacht, “am I to assume that you are docking here?”
His face bore an important expression, however, his eyes were darting about the group in confusion. From Sam, to Stella, to Alfwuld, to Morgana and then back to Stella and Alfwuld. Sam guessed that he hadn’t seen a shadow wisp or a penguin dressed in a tunic before and decided to answer him before Alfwuld or Stella had the chance to confuse or terrify him further.
“Yes,” said Sam, “we are stopping for coal.”
The dock officer was still looking at Stella and Alfwuld but he nodded and replied:
“For both your vessels, considering their tonnage, it will cost an ounce of silver each.”
“Excuse me,” Alfwuld said, “how are you aware of the tonnage of our skysailers?”
The man took a step back as the penguin, still sitting on the shoulder of one of the colossi, opened his beak.
“I… err… I really meant the mass of your vessels…” said the officer.
“What does mass mean?” Stella asked.
The dock officer glanced at the shadow wisp, he seemed to be wobbling now.
“The size,” he explained.
“We surely have two ounces of silver,” said Sam and he turned to the captain colossus who was standing next to them. “Could you get two ounces of silver from one of the chests please?”
The captain nodded politely and walked across the gangway to the galleon. It was back shortly with one of the treasure chests in its arms.
“I said two ounces,” Sam said, flabbergasted.
“Master, to measure two ounces of silver I am unable,” the captain colossus replied.
The dock officer at this point had regained his senses and he revealed a set of scales from the small bag on his belt. Sam opened the chest which was full of hundreds of gold and silver coins gleaming in the bright afternoon sun. Sam didn’t know how many silver pieces added up to two ounces so he took out a couple of coins and put them one at a time on the scale presented by the dock officer. Four silver coins were enough to pay the docking charge and the officer bid them farewell and a happy stay at Mystos before leaving them.
“I fear that due to the recent actions of our simple captain colossus,” Alfwuld said, “news of our treasure horde may reach many on these piers.”
“I wouldn’t worry about thieves,” said Morgana, “these colossi seem designed to prevent theft.”
She pointed to the rest of the colossi, which had departed while they were chatting to the dock officer, they were now coming back onto the deck holding great swords in their bronze hands. The swords were of incredible height, Sam knew a knight in Tolheath called Sir Wulf who always had his great sword hanging by his side but seeing these colossi holding such blades aloft in the sun was a completely different experience. The swords were as long as a man was tall and the clean steel blades were honed and sharp.
The colossi assumed positions on the pier next to the gangplank and on the deck of the yacht.
“Ah, that is excellent,” said Alfwuld, watching them, “I think our possessions will be safe. Now let us see about obtaining some coal for our fair skysailer.”
“We should take Herbert with us,” Morgana said, “he could carry the coal back to the yacht.”
“We’ve already docked at the pier,” Sam pointed out, “we’d have to take off again and land on the pier to lower him onto the ground.”
“We could ask these colossuses to take back the coal,” said Stella, gesturing to the colossus crew, “I’m sure they are strong enough.”
“If you wish us to accompany you to get provisions,” said the captain colossus, “we can take the cart.”
“That would be good,” said Alfwuld, “bring it immediately.”
Not that she ever talked loudly but Morgana quietly said something about how Herbert would be worried if he was not with her in the city. Alfwuld admonished her for such concerns and said that his grandfather had spoken of the great security and order within the city walls and said they would have nothing to fear. Stella tried to reassure her that the colossi coming along would keep them safe; Morgana said that she would tell Herbert this and say goodbye before they left.
Sam kept quiet while this conversation took place; he couldn’t explain it but he felt a sense of dread when he thought about walking into the city. It was that same irrational fear he had felt when the colossus captain had mentioned they would have to stop in Mystos to collect more coal. He wanted to say something but he knew that they needed more coal if they wanted to return to High Realm.
Besides, he reasoned, the colossi will keep us safe.
Several colossi came back on the deck pulling a very large, metal cart from the hold below. The money chest was placed on it, one colossus grabbed hold of the shafts and the other two walked beside it with their swords at the ready. Then the party left the skysailer followed by the three colossi.
The docks were packed with people from different lands conversing with the merchants of Mystos who had set up stalls selling items and commodities to all seafarers. Upon seeing these stalls and their sellers, Alfwuld was convinced that they could find the coal they needed on the docks and Sam approached one of the stalls and asked the owner if he knew where they could find some. The stallholder pointed them in the direction of a large warehouse and then asked if they would like to buy a brass souvenir made in the likeness of the towers of the city above. Stella seemed interested but Sam quickly pulled her away by the sleeve, leaving the vendor very disappointed.
They made their way to the warehouse and found a man outside in a short toga. He was surprised by Stella and Alfwuld but he recovered quickly and a deal for a ton of coal was made; the price being a few pounds of gold. The man would have charged less if Alfwuld had not insisted upon buying “the very best coal you have to offer”. When the man had been given his money, he ordered twenty workmen to load up the cart with the coal and once this was complete, Sam told the colossi to take the coal back to their skysailers. Sam now thought that everyone else would like to return to the sky yacht but Stella and Alfwuld had other ideas…
“I want to go into the city and see the towers up close!” Stella said, excited by the prospect.
“I must say I agree,” said Alfwuld, “it will be a long time before I pass this way again and I would also like to see the city.”
“The colossi have left us,” Morgana said, “I told Herbert I wouldn’t go anywhere without them.”
“Listen,” said Alfwuld, “the city is completely safe. As long as we stay out of the lowlife areas -not that my grandfather mentioned the existence of any- we should be safe.”
The feeling of foreboding welled up in Sam’s stomach again and this time he chose to speak.
“I agree with Morgana,” he said, “I have a bad feeling. I don’t think we should enter the city without the colossi. We haven’t been here before, it could be dangerous.”
Alfwuld looked up at Sam and tilted his penguin head to examine him.
“What is it with you two?” He asked, “we’ll be perfectly safe. Besides, we aren’t likely to visit this city again for years. We should make the most of it.”
He picked up a pouch hanging from the belt around his tunic and placed it on the ground.
“Here,” he said, opening the little bundle, “take a dozen silver pieces from it each. We can buy items of interest in the city.”
“I wouldn’t worry,” Stella said to Sam and Morgana, adjusting her wizard hat, “the people here seem really nice and I can always zap people who aren’t.”
“I suppose I need some new materials and tools,” Morgana said with hesitation.
Alfwuld looked around the docks and fixed his eyes on a boy who was sitting on a crate doing nothing. He waved at the boy until he came over.
“Do you want to earn a silver coin?” he asked.
The boy’s eyes widened.
“Err… yes,” he replied, trying not to sound too excited.
“Then carry me up to the city,” Alfwuld ordered.
Sam still felt like arguing but he figured that if Stella and Alfwuld went into the city without him and it really was unsafe, they would be in even more danger.
“Alright I’ll come,” he said.
“Excellent!” said Alfwuld, he turned back to the local lad, “pick me up boy.”
Stella was very eager to see the towers and upon reaching the stairs, she floated up them with great ease and had soon reached the top of the cliff and was shouting at them all to hurry up. However, it was not easy for the other three to hurry up. Morgana had little energy and she climbed the stairs at an excruciatingly slow pace and Sam found that he couldn’t climb much faster than her because he felt like he needed to walk behind the poor boy who was carrying Alfwuld just to make sure he didn’t fall over.
“Faster boy! Faster!” Alfwuld cried, apparently unimpressed with the pace, “and hold me tighter. I don’t want to slip out of your arms!”
It took the dock boy half an hour with short rests to reach the top of the cliff. The affair might have been more humorous to Sam if he didn’t have to walk at the same slow pace as the dock boy.
Stella had been floating around in circles rather impatiently waiting for them to arrive. When they finally reached the summit, she became excited again and her enthusiastic movements made the little bell on top of her hat ring annoyingly.
“Come on!” she said. “Let’s go see the towers!”
The boy almost dropped Alfwuld in relief upon reaching the top and the penguin gave him the promised silver piece for his service.
From the cliff, the city was about half a mile away and was situated on a plain. A few miles from the city, fertile farmland covered with growing corn, livestock and orchards surrounded them as far as the eye could see. The sight of these farms made Sam long for Tolheath and its rolling hills similarly covered with corn and pastures for cows and sheep.
The four followed the paved road to the walled city of Mystos, the towers and wall growing taller with every step they took. In a short space of time, they reached the gate of the city. It was a round gate, made of dark-brown metal verging on black and was decorated with carved depictions of men and monsters fighting. It was about twenty feet wide and tall; currently it was open, traders with wagons pulled by oxen and horses were coming in and out of the gate.
Despite the gate and the thick, forty-foot-high wall, Mystos seemed to be welcoming people in and the atmosphere was relaxed and orderly. However, there was a contingent of armoured men standing by the gate, carefully checking the contents of the wagons entering the city. They were wearing steel breastplates with accompanying shoulder guards and greaves, complete with a helmet of steel which covered the whole head apart from the eyes, mouth and ears. The helmets had a crest of black horse hair that went from one ear to the other and served no practical purpose. Hanging from their belts were swords and held in their hands were tall staves made of hard wood which were shod with bronze at either end.
As they approached the gate, one of these soldiers spotted them and walked their way. Sam instinctively grasped the pommel of Flamboyance and then quickly took his hand off it; he knew it would look suspicious to be holding onto his sword in such a manner.
“Hold,” the sentry ordered and everyone stopped, “what is your business here?”
He was a tall man with dark-grey eyes and he held himself in a manner which only one who has seen battle is capable. He didn’t pay any attention to Sam or Morgana but instead looked coldly at Stella and Alfwuld.
“We are here to visit your fine city,” Alfwuld replied.
The soldier did not look surprised that Alfwuld could speak and reviewed him coolly.
“A bird with speech.” he said calmly.
“I am no bird…” Alfwuld began.
“And what is this?” The soldier asked, pointing his staff at Stella. “It looks like a little wraith.”
“I’m not an “it”!” Stella exclaimed, positively shocked.
Ignoring her, the soldier raised the staff to his lips and whispered some words onto the bronze cap and then a white dove appeared out of nowhere, sitting on top of it. Sam’s jaw dropped, he’d seen magic before but nothing quite like that.
The bird opened its wings and flew away over the white wall and into the city.
“You shall wait here,” said the soldier, leaning the staff on his shoulder.
And that they did. No one felt comfortable moving or asking the soldier any questions about their blocked entry as he had the sternest posture. Nevertheless, Alfwuld did glare at him, unhappy at having been disrespected.
Soon a man with a black beard in a white robe approached them and looked at the soldier.
“What have you called me for watchman?”
“I wish to know about these two,” said the soldier pointing at Stella and Alfwuld with two fingers, “priest, are these demons?”
The priest looked at Stella and then Alfwuld.
“No they are not,” he said.
“Are you sure?” the soldier asked, surprised Sam thought.
“Completely,” said the priest, “you know watchman that I have dreams. I saw these four in a dream a few nights ago. They are blessed and destined to come to this fine city and help it. Do not hinder them in anything.”
The watchman looked at the priest long and hard before turning towards Sam and the group.
“You may enter,” he said, before walking away with the priest
The group stood still for a moment watching the two walk back and Sam breathed a sigh of relief.
“They weren’t very nice,” Stella said.
“Indeed,” said Alfwuld, “my grandfather said that the watchmen were courteous. Although, to be fair, we are a strange bunch who would attract attention.”
They walked through the gates without further issue although the other watchmen did give them strange looks. As they entered through the gates, Sam made three observations at once.
The first was that the streets around them were neatly organized and perfectly straight, suggesting that the city’s layout had been carefully planned by some architects.
The second was that the towers of Mystos were in the centre of the city and they did indeed have varying heights and roofs. Some had dome-shaped roofs and others cone-shaped ones, however, the feature all the towers shared in common was the construction and design of their walls. The walls of each tower seemed to be made of large pillars, pillar upon pillar and pillar in between pillar; Sam had not seen anything like it in his whole life.
The third discovery was that the city centre was surrounded by another wall similar to the outside one. Down the clean and relatively uncluttered street, Sam could see this wall’s gate and that it was shut.
The buildings around them were several stories tall but when compared to the walls or the towers in the centre, the houses looked small and simple. They were beautifully designed however; they were painted white and pillars made up integral parts of the structures and formed archways above the doors. All the buildings were connected together in long rows in a fashion that Sam had not seen before, he wondered whether the houses all had shared rooms or whether there were walls inside dividing different living areas.
Who would want to live in a house without its own four walls? Sam thought to himself.
“Wow!” said Stella, looking up at the towers. “They are amazing!”
For the better part of an hour, they circled around the wall enclosing the city centre at various distances trying to get the best views of the towers. Close up they were impressive and the skill to design and build them had to surpass that of builders in both High Realm and Creta. After this, they decided to go down one of the streets to a market square with stalls and shops. The noise of sellers shouting and customers bartering was all around and gave the square a markedly different character to that of the city streets. Sam didn’t feel like buying anything but the rest of the group quickly split up and began rushing to different stalls in search of things to buy.
Sam, in the meantime, stood by a water fountain and waited for them to finish their shopping.
When Alfwuld came back he said that everything was of a “trite nature” and it was “very disappointing” so he hadn’t bought anything. Morgana’s side bag was bulging when she returned but, being reserved as always, she didn’t say what she had bought. Stella came last with many bouquets of flowers as well as three books.
“I thought you couldn’t read?” Sam asked.
“I can’t,” said Stella, “but the stall owner thought I could use magic and I didn’t have the heart to tell him I couldn’t. He said they have nice pictures so I think they were worth buying!”
Alfwuld said something very negative about this and Sam, his gut still communicating misgivings about the city, said that they should head back to the skysailers and continue on their journey.
“I agree,” said Alfwuld, “supper will be ready soon. Lead the way.”
Sam was only too happy to hear this diktat from Alfwuld as he had not been relaxed for the entirety of their time in the city and had kept his hand on Flamboyance’s pommel just in case of danger. He turned to go back the way they had come and then saw another road which seemed to cut through several rows of houses and lead back to the main street and the gate.
“I think that’s a shortcut,” he said and walked in that direction.
Poor Sam. His initial reaction to the idea of entering Mystos and his gut feelings in the city were on point. The whole city contained a dangerous element, however, if he had gone back the way they had come, it is possible that the next event would never have taken place and thus altered their course back to High Realm.
The street down which he was leading them made but the slightest of turns away from the market square and soon they found themselves approaching the closest thing to a corner that existed in the city. The market was out of sight as was the main street which the path led towards.
This street was strangely quiet and empty of people, except for one man dressed in a long black robe with a hood pulled over his face. Sam’s stomach seemed to flip inside him upon seeing the man and he clutched his sword tighter as they made to walk past him.
The man was standing with his back against the wall of one of the buildings and didn’t move a muscle as they approached. Despite the shining sun, the man’s body cast no shadow on the paved street and this was a detail Sam did not fail to miss.
As they passed the cloaked individual, he suddenly leapt from the wall and, although Sam had been glancing at him the whole time, the speed with which the stranger moved surprised everyone.
“Stop!” Sam yelled turning around and unsheathing Flamboyance.
The hooded figure paid no attention, he rushed towards Alfwuld and grabbed him by the wings. By this stage, Sam had decided the man was dangerous and charged at him his sword pointed towards his dark, hidden face.
The man stepped back into the shadow cast by one of the buildings, pulling Alfwuld with him. Sam leapt forwards, his sword aimed at the man’s head and then he saw that the cloaked villain was gone.
Along with Alfwuld.
Chapter Three
STRATOS KANE
Sam almost didn’t steady himself in time such was the force of his thrust, fortunately, he managed to stop himself from falling onto the paved street. He staggered around in shock, trying to come to grips with what had happened.
He’s been taken! He thought. By some wizard!
Sam turned to Morgana and Stella who were behind him. Morgana’s face which was normally nonchalant was white with shock and Stella’s eyes were wide.
“We need to find the watchmen,” Sam said to them in the strongest voice he could manage.
Stella and Morgana were only able to nod and they all ran back to the market square pushing and shoving their way through the people till they found a watchman.
“My friend has been kidnapped!” Sam yelled as they approached him.
The watchman was instantly on alert and Sam quickly told him what had happened. The watchman summoned a dove like the one outside the gate and sent it flying off through the city streets before asking to be taken to the scene of the crime. They led him to the street where Alfwuld had been taken.
The watchman examined the area and told them to explain what had happened again. In a rather chaotic manner with plenty of interjections and overlap, Sam, Stella and Morgana managed to relay the details of what had happened. Presently, more watchmen arrived, including one wearing a short red cape around his shoulders. He appeared to be either a captain or a lieutenant and he asked them to relate what had happened.
“We were just walking down this street,” Sam explained to the officer, “when this man in a black robe and hood jumped from that wall and grabbed Alfwuld. I tried to stab him but he just disappeared.”
“He just disappeared?” the officer asked.
“Yes!” said Stella, “he just stepped back there and vanished.”
“Not into thin air,” Morgana clarified, “he and Alfwuld disappeared into the shadow cast by that house.”
The officer’s eye twitched suddenly and although Sam couldn’t explain why, he felt that this was a bad sign.
“Did you get a good look at the man?” the officer asked.
“No,” said Sam, “he was wearing a hood and his face was completely hidden.”
“What does your friend look like?”
“Alfwuld was wearing a blue tunic lined with golden embroidery,” Sam said.
“And a cap on his head,” Stella contributed.
“He is also a penguin.” Morgana said.
The officer and the rest of the watchmen looked at them in confusion.
“What is a penguin?” one of them asked.
Morgana explained what a penguin looked like and gave some perhaps unnecessary details about penguin biology.
“Lieutenant,” said one of the watchmen, “these descriptions sound like the ones Diomedes gave us about the strange, talking bird at the gate. He asked for a priest and he said the bird should be allowed entry.”
“Just what I was thinking,” the lieutenant replied, “son, did anyone else see this? Are there any other witnesses?”
Sam shook his head.
“Some people in these buildings may have seen it,” he said.
The lieutenant nodded and ordered the other watchmen to knock on the doors and ask the inhabitants if they had seen anything. Very few people answered the doors and the ones who did said that they hadn’t seen or heard anything. When the watchmen had finished asking their questions the lieutenant approached Sam, Stella and Morgana again.
“We shall try and find some leads,” he said, “you will have to stay in the city while we conduct our investigation.”
“We’ve got two skysailers moored at the docks,” said Sam, “a yacht attached to a galleon.”
The lieutenant took out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it.
“That should be easy enough to find,” he said, “stay in your vessels by the docks. We shall update you on our findings. I shall provide you with an escort back to your skysailers. Ulysses.”
A watchman stepped forwards. He had intelligent, bright-blue eyes and blond, curly hair that was visible in some areas under his helmet.
“Take these three back to the docks,” the lieutenant commanded, “make sure they arrive at their skysailers safely.”
“Yes sir,” said the watchman.
Sam, Stella and Morgana thanked the lieutenant and the other watchmen, and followed Ulysses through the streets to the main gate. They walked in silence, but Sam was uneasy. He had burning questions and desperately wanted reassurance that they would find Alfwuld.
Finally, he could suffer the silence no longer.
“Ulysses,” he said.
“Yes?” the watchman replied, his eyes scouring the people around them. He had his staff in one hand and the other on the handle of his sheathed sword. He was on high alert.
“When will the watch find him?” Sam asked, “do you think you will find him?”
Ulysses was quiet.
“Ask me again,” he said, “at the docks.”
“Sorry…?” Sam asked.
But Ulysses didn’t respond and Sam went quiet. He sensed that the watchman was looking out for danger and this wasn’t a safe place to talk. Sam looked at Morgana who was looking at him and he realized she was thinking the same as well; Stella on the other hand seemed confused. Everyone silently agreed not to speak again.
By the time they reached the docks and their skysailers, it was nearing twilight and dark reds and oranges were starting to form across the clear sky which had been a bright blue some hours earlier. When they had reached the gangplank and the two colossi standing guard on the pier, Ulysses turned to them.
“You asked if I thought we would find your friend,” he said.
Sam nodded.
The watchman stepped closer, both hands grasping his staff as he leaned in.
“You all must swear to not breathe a single word I am about to say to anyone,” he said slowly, “because if you do, you won’t have me to fear, you shall have him to fear. Trust me, your colossi won’t be able to protect you.”
“What’s going on?” Sam asked, he could feel his heart pumping adrenaline into his veins preparing him to either fight or run.
“Swear this conversation will be between us and no one else,” Ulysses said, “swear! Or I walk away now.”
With no other option, Sam, Stella and Morgana swore they wouldn’t tell anyone what Ulysses was about to reveal.
“The watch will not find your friend,” Ulysses said.
Sam took a step back, not expecting that response.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you know about the council of Mystos?” Ulysses asked.
“Nothing,” said Sam, “apart from that they banished a man who travelled to Creta, he built a labyrinth and turned the people there into puppets.”
Ulysses’ eyes widened in surprise.
“He is no longer alive,” Morgana said as if to reassure him.
“I don’t know that man,” Ulysses said, “the council resides in the Inner Sanctum of the city and very few people are allowed access. Only members of the High Watch, wizards and the academically learned are allowed to live there. It is a place of mysteries and secrets. Most of the decrees made by the council are known only by a few and very few in the Outer Sanctum know of their activities inside.”
He paused and his voice became more serious.
“As far as I am aware,” he said, “most of the council and the people in the Inner Sanctum are good people. Our city is a fine place to live and it is safe but there is one wizard…”
He stopped again and glanced about quickly, satisfied that nobody was watching, he continued.
“He is a known criminal in both the outer and inner sanctums,” he said, “but nobody has been able to convict him. I have even heard that some members of the council are scared of him. It is rumoured that he has many officials in his pocket and can call upon dozens of high-ranking authorities for favours. Outside this city, he is no one of significant importance, inside however, he rules from the shadows. He is known as a large collector of creatures -particularly magical ones- beings he can study to research magic and enchantment.”
“Don’t think that your friend is the first. People, foreigners mainly, have entered this city and never come out again. People and animals with strange magical qualities have gone never to be seen again. Then months later this wizard will come out and announce some great discovery he has made in animal studies or some new theory about magic. Everyone knows he’s behind these kidnappings but we can never get the evidence for a conviction or even for the permission to search his tower.”
Sam could feel the hairs on his back standing on end.
“Who is he?” he asked. “What is his name?”
Ulysses took a breath.
“His name is Stratos Kane,” he said, “if you are wise, you will not say his name within or without the city’s walls. Watchmen who have taken too great an interest in that man have disappeared, never to be seen again.”
“So what will happen to Alfwuld?” Morgana asked.
“Nothing good,” said Ulysses, “we have no proof it was him. I know the lieutenant wants to forget about this. Tomorrow you will be sent a message, telling you that the investigation has been called off. I’ve been told nothing is a sure bet but there is an exception to every rule.”
Sam felt ill. One of his friends, the crown prince of High Realm no less, had been kidnapped in a city he knew nothing about and the authorities were not going to save him.
This was the stuff of nightmares.
“Some advice,” said Ulysses, “don’t wait till tomorrow. Leave now. You are a loose end to be tied up. A problem to be rectified.”
“No!” Sam exclaimed, his thoughts of despair interrupted. “No!” He said again, determination flowing from the depths of his being. “My friend has just been kidnapped and I am not going to leave him!”
“Me neither!” Stella supported.
Morgana nodded.
“What are the directions to his tower?” Sam asked. “How do we get in?”
Ulysses stepped back, an exasperated expression on his face.
“Don’t be fools!” he urged. “He is a wizard! You will die before you get within ten feet of him.”
“I am not sure,” said Sam, “we’ve escaped from a labyrinth filled with giant spiders and killed a minotaur. Maybe we can take on a wizard.”
Ulysses paused for a second.
“I don’t care what you’ve done in the past,” he said finally, “or what you will end up doing in the future; you will die if you face him.”
“Besides,” he said, “you won’t even get to the door of his tower. You will never be allowed into the Inner Sanctum. You’re no one important. I am not even allowed into the Inner Sanctum; you stand no chance. The gatekeepers will not let you enter.”
“Are there sewer and drainage systems?” Morgana asked. “If they are large enough, we could sneak into the sanctum.”
“Probably,” said Ulysses, “but you will stick out like sore thumbs and the guards will see that you don’t belong.”
“Is there any way to get into Stratos’ tower directly?” Sam asked.
Ulysses went silent and Sam could tell he knew something.
“How do we get into Stratos’ tower directly?” he asked.
Ulysses swallowed.
“There may be a way to get in,” he said, “but it won’t work. It’s underground and it would take you days of mining to get through to his tower.”
Sam looked at Morgana and she looked at him. Then they both looked back at the galleon.
“I think we’ll manage,” said Sam.
The watchman Ulysses explained that Mystos was built on an old, tin-mining settlement and many of the tunnels below the city had not been filled in but simply blocked off. A year ago, a watchman had found a map of the tunnels beneath the city and pointed out that one led to the basement of Stratos Kane’s tower and suggested to a captain of the watch that they could use it to sneak covertly into his quarters and check for evidence of wrong doing. Both the watchman and this captain disappeared before the plan could be executed.
Sam demanded that Ulysses bring them this map immediately and made him swear to do so. Ulysses then left, and Sam, Stella and Morgana stayed on the deck waiting for his return. Although the captain colossus bid them to eat something as it was supper time, no one was hungry. Morgana said she had to fix something for the mission on the galleon and left Sam and Stella to wait for Ulysses.
An hour or so passed and the sky grew darker and darker. Sam thought Ulysses had broken his oath and was about to find Morgana when a white dove landed next to Stella, in its beak was a parcel. When she took it, the bird vanished.
When they opened it, they found two maps. The first showing the old entrance for the mines and another showing the tunnels beneath the city. On a separate piece of paper were written instructions for the tunnels beneath Mystos.
The entrance to the mines was in a farmer’s field outside the city.
Sam called Morgana and told the colossus captain to fly above the city to the farmlands. The colossi set to work immediately and soon both skysailers were flying up the cliff. It was night by this point but Mystos was brightly lit and arguably an even greater sight in the darkness than during the day. Hovering in between the streets and towers of Mystos were bright, fuzzy, white lights that provided soft illumination on to the city below. The lights had to be magical and Stella said they reminded her of dancing fairies she had seen in Shadow Forest back in High Realm.
Maybe they are some kind of fairy, Sam mused.
While Mystos was well illuminated, there were no such lights hovering above the countryside around the city. Fortunately, the moon was out and provided enough light to see the features of the hills and fields belonging to the numerous farmers of the city state.
According to the map and the notes that came with it, the entrance to the tin mines was located in a field for cattle and was marked by a large mound of earth. Looking carefully over the ground, Sam soon spotted a flat field with a strange mound at one of its corners where the hedges marked the pasture’s boundary. He ordered the captain to hover the skysailers above the ground right next to the mound and then followed Morgana into the galleon.
They opened the trapdoors on the two decks below Herbert and carefully lowered him using the pulley system. It was a slow process but there was no getting around it, if they did it too quickly there was a chance of tearing the ropes and they would need to be able to pull him back up into the galleon later.
At any rate, Herbert was soon on the grass below and Sam, Stella and Morgana came down the gangplank from the yacht to untie the ropes wrapped around the colossus. It was a rather difficult task in the dark, the lamps on the skysailers were not that bright and when the puppet master had repaired Herbert he had removed the glowing crystal and the tea table from his platform. The only bright light was the one coming from Herbert’s glass pane located in his head but he couldn’t turn it enough to look at his sides properly. Regardless, they untied the ropes eventually.
“Right,” said Sam, “Stella. Put your hat back on the skysailer. That bell won’t make it easy to sneak into the tower.”
“Got ya,” said Stella.
She took the hat off her head, scrunched it into a ball and then, drawing her arm back as if she were holding a discus, she threw the hat above the yacht. It really was an excellent throw; the hat flew through the air and landed on the deck.
“Nice throw!” Sam said, “now we can get to finding this mine.”
“Hang on,” said Morgana, “I just need to get something from the galleon.”
She started walking slowly up the gangplank back to the yacht and Sam felt like yelling at her to move faster. They weren’t exactly inconspicuous out in the field and someone was likely to spot them given enough time. However, he knew Morgana couldn’t go faster without exhausting herself so he bit his tongue. He decided to examine the mound.
“Herbert,” he said, pointing, “could you shine your light on that?”
Herbert turned his head to where Sam was pointing. This mound was clearly the one they wanted. It was surrounded by bushes on both sides and a few were growing on top of it as well. In the middle was a square archway made of wooden beams, boarded off by many wooden planks. Although faint, on the ground leading to this blocked entrance there were signs of old mine tracks. According to the notes Sam had read, an old warehouse used to stand next to the entrance and the tin ore was deposited inside it. The warehouse was nowhere to be seen, however, and Sam assumed it had been pulled down.
“I’ve got it.”
Sam turned and saw Morgana walking down the gangplank again. She was holding a large canvas bag in her hands and something big was inside it.
“Right,” said Sam turning back to the mine entrance, “Herbert…”
“What are you doing?”
Sam felt a chill go down his spine. He turned, expecting to see a watchman with sword drawn but instead saw a man holding a lantern approaching them. He was dressed in a brown tunic and a pair of baggy trousers and Sam knew he was a farmer. He looked to be as strong and tough as the earth itself and seemed to be in his late forties.
“This is my field!” he said. “What you doing in here? What is that?” He swung his lantern in the direction of Herbert.
“Err…” said Sam, trying to think of a lie, “we are… we are doing a mine check for the city.”
The farmer raised an eyebrow.
“A mine check?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Sam, “the old mines go right under the city and some might be starting to cave in so we are here to check the strength of the beams.”
The farmer looked at him hard and then looked at Herbert again, who had turned to look at him also.
“Why does that colossus have picks and swords on its arms?” he asked accusingly, “you can’t just be coming to inspect the mines can you?”
Sam paused and tried to think up a reason for Herbert’s blades.
Darn it, he thought, Morgana, why did you have to get the Cretan blacksmiths to fix those swords onto his arms?
“You see sir,” he said, “we are also going to be dealing with a worm.”
“… A worm?”
“Yes a big worm!” said Sam not even thinking about what he was saying. “Dangerous. Very dangerous. It can eat people. My friend… err… I mean colleague Morgana can tell you its name in the language of inquiry.”
Sam looked at Morgana and she looked back at him. Then she faced the farmer, her expression unreadable and was silent for three long seconds.
“Vermis magnus permagnus horribilis,” she murmured.
“I will be honest with you,” said Sam, trying to make his voice sound more serious. “We are not here to check the integrity of the mines. This worm is huge and has already wounded a couple of wizards and we’ve been sent to kill it. I didn’t say so at first because I didn’t want to scare you.”
The farmer looked at Sam, then Morgana, then Herbert and then back at Sam. He looked like he believed them for a second, then the farmer’s expression changed as he noticed Stella floating beside them.
“What is that!?” he cried pointing at Stella.
“I’m Stella,” she replied, “I’m also here to help kill the magnus, magnus, magnus thingy.”
“De-de-de-demon!”
The farmer’s face had turned white, he was now shaking and looked like he was about to drop the lantern.
“It’s…. it’s a spook! A wraith!”
“Not this again!” Stella cried exasperated.
The farmer turned and started to run.
Before anyone could react, one of Herbert’s arms stretched forwards and whacked the farmer right on the head. The farmer dropped the lantern, stumbled forwards and then collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.
“Herbert!” Sam, Stella and Morgana exclaimed in unison.
Herbert retracted his arm.
“We might have still been able to calm him down!” Sam said.
Herbert turned his head slightly so he was looking at all three of them while trying not to blind them with the light emitting from his glass pane.
“You raise a good point,” said Morgana, “he was hysterical and we would have probably had to restrain him anyway.”
Sam looked at Morgana, then at Herbert and then back at her. Morgana maintained that Herbert could speak but nobody else was able to hear him, Sam still didn’t know whether this was true or not.
He shook his head and picked up the farmer’s lantern. Then they all walked to the mine entrance and Herbert smashed the wooden barriers to pieces.
The tunnel ahead was so long and dark that Herbert’s light, despite its brightness, was not able to reach the end of it.
As they entered the underground passage, Sam noticed how wide and tall it was and he guessed it had been a productive mine in its day.
“Guys,” Stella said, her voice tinged with worry, “I know we were lying about that magnus thingy but could there actually be…?”
“No.” Sam interrupted.
“Big worms exist,” said Morgana, “but they can’t burrow through rock. There won’t be any down here.”
“Oh that’s good,” said Stella, her eyes still peeled for danger.
They moved through slowly, according to the written notes they were to walk a mile until they reached a large, mining cavern and then turn down another tunnel to the right and continue down and then up again until they bumped into a wall. These were easy enough instructions to follow and the journey wasn’t proving difficult. However, Sam could not help but feel unsafe in the tunnels, very few supports were visible in either the passages or the chambers they passed and although the rock looked sturdy enough, he was worried about possible cave-ins.
Finally, they arrived in a large, rectangular-shaped cavern. It was difficult to see the details even though Herbert was actively looking around for danger. It was clear, however, at some point in time, this area had seen intensive mining. The walls had pick and chisel marks, entire coves had been carved out of various walls and even the floor had large pits with connected ladders. In addition, there were several other tunnels in the opposite walls which led deeper underground.
Sam checked the map and they turned down the first tunnel to the right. The mine ceased being uniform and organized once they entered this tunnel. While the main tunnel remained a large, rectangular shape, there were numerous smaller tunnels on the side which were only big enough for a single man to enter. It was rather like going down a river and seeing off-shooting creeks and tributaries.
The tunnel seemed endless and Sam had no idea how long they had been walking through the silent darkness before it ended.
It didn’t end in a stone wall but instead an uneven grey barrier. Sam touched it with the palm of his hand, it had a rough, coarse texture.
“Is this mortar?” he asked.
“I think so,” said Morgana, “Herbert, can you get through it?”
As if to answer, Herbert moved closer to the block and everyone took a step back. The colossus hovered there for a moment as if he were examining the wall, his arms still.
Then Herbert’s picks went into action. Dust and grains of cement started flying off the block and the sound of metal cracking mortar echoed throughout the tunnel.
At first, Sam was scared that the noise would travel all the way through the tunnels and out of the mine entrance alerting the watch. But he quickly dismissed this possibility as unlikely.
Herbert’s arms were shrouded by clouds of dust and it wasn’t long before the wall of mortar was nothing more than a pile of rubble; a heap at least five yards across.
“Good work,” said Morgana as everyone moved forwards.
They continued down the tunnel for another five minutes until they met a stone wall; a solid stone wall made of black blocks smeared with mortar.
“Is this it?” Stella whispered.
Sam consulted the map. There were many other routes but he didn’t think they had gone down a false one. He checked the notes written on the map. It mentioned that the tunnel would end in the wall of Stratos’ basement.
“I think so,” he said, “we need to keep it quiet. We will be in his basement.”
“Herbert, try to keep it quiet,” Morgana said.
It could have been Sam’s imagination (even with his lantern and Herbert’s light, it was quite dim in the tunnel) but he could have sworn he saw Herbert give a nod.
Then Herbert began striking the wall. He drew his arms back in wide sweeping arcs to generate great force and the subsequent impacts were ear-splitting. Sam prayed that the infamous wizard wouldn’t hear anything.
The fear of discovery increased with every passing second, it was taking Herbert time to crack through the stone and the longer it took, the more likely they’d be detected. Sam could feel himself sweating and he kept his hand fixed on Flamboyance for assurance.
Then finally, one of Herbert’s picks smashed through the corner of one of the blocks and a chip flew off revealing a hole. Sam told Herbert to stop and approached the hole, he looked through it and saw a darkly lit room with what looked like a set of steps. Nobody appeared to be inside.
Sam stood back and told Herbert to keep going. With an opening visible, Herbert had a place to start from. With some impressive swings, he cracked a hole big enough for Sam, Stella and Morgana to walk through.
When they stepped through the gap into the basement and lifted up the lantern, they saw that unlike a typical cellar it was very neatly organized. Barrels were stacked into pyramids on one side and on the other crates and boxes were arranged into hexagons. Because of this organization, the middle of the room was completely clear of any obstacles and a direct path could be seen leading to the stairway.
Sam, Stella and Morgana tiptoed their way up the steps; if the wizard hadn’t heard Herbert smashing through the basement wall, it was unlikely that he would hear any footsteps but each thought that being careful was paramount to the rescue mission’s success. There was no need to take risks when the life of their friend was at stake.
When they finished approaching the door, they saw it was a thick thing, made of solid oak. It had a handle but strangely no keyhole and there was a round, metal case made of either brass or copper in the middle of the door. Strange ticking and winding sounds were coming from it.
Sam carefully put his hand on the door handle and pulled it. The handle turned but the door would not open.
“Looks like there’s a lock,” he whispered.
Morgana nodded and put her ear to the metal case in the door from where the ticking and turning were coming.
“I think I know what this is,” she said, “hold the lantern closer please.”
Sam did so and noticed that there was a tiny keyhole in the metal disc, almost too small to be seen even with the lantern’s illumination. Morgana pulled out two small lock-picking tools and placed them into the little keyhole. After some careful and gentle movements, there was a sharp click and the metal cover of the disc snapped open. Inside was one of the most interesting sights Sam had seen. Bronze gears, dozens of them turning on each other, tiny pulley systems moving up and down and wheels spinning endlessly, assaulted his eyes with their complex and interrelated motions. His heart fell at the sight. He hoped Morgana could tell him what he was looking at.
“What is it?” he asked.
“A clockwork lock.”
“A what?”
“A clockwork lock,” Morgana replied, “I haven’t seen a real one before. But I’ve read up on them back at the academy. This door has been designed to open only at certain times.”
“Okay so what do we do?”
“The clockwork is powered by a wound-up spring in the barrel,” Morgana said, “I would guess the door will open when the spring has unwound itself. The constant motion of the clockwork must be powering a gear somewhere which is keeping the bolt in place. So we can either find the spring and unwind it or find the gear keeping the bolt in place and remove it. Either should open the door.”
Sam thought he understood but looking at the complex mechanism before them, he decided he’d have to see a drawn diagram to comprehend it fully.
“So can you see the gear or the spring?” he asked.
Morgana silently looked at the clockwork.
“Yes,” she said, pointing, “I’ve found the barrel.”
She pointed to what looked like a solid bronze disc but as Sam looked closer he could see the teeth of a gear sticking out of the circle interacting with several other gears. Clearly, the disc was protecting the spring inside.
Morgana started fishing through her side bag. She calmly pulled out tool after tool, inspecting them before dropping them back into the bag. This continued for about a minute before Sam lost patience.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
“A tool to get through that cover,” she said, “I need something that can break through the cover so I can access the spring.”
Sam looked at the barrel and then had a thought.
“Does the spring move?” he asked.
“Yes, it slowly unwinds,” Morgana replied.
“And if we stopped it unwinding, would the bolt unlock?”
“Yes.”
“Great.”
Sam pulled Flamboyance from its sheath, aimed and then stabbed it straight into the barrel. The soft metal case stood no chance against the sharpened point of Flamboyance’s blade. It pierced straight through and sank deep into the mechanism, some strange sounds were heard and the gear stopped turning for a second.
“Yes,” said Sam in triumph.
Then Flamboyance started to shake and then began to spin around in his grip. The gear was moving again!
“Yikes!” Sam managed to breathe as he grabbed the hilt with both hands and pulled back on it.
It was difficult, but pulling back with all his strength and weight he was able to stop the blade from turning. Yet he could still feel the sword shaking and vibrating and it was difficult to keep a firm grasp, making it even harder to keep the blade still.
“Help!” Sam gasped.
Stella grabbed onto the sword’s hilt and tried pulling the blade in the opposite direction. Alas, because she was a shadow wisp, she wasn’t very heavy or strong and Sam still had to pull and grip the weapon with all his might and energy.
“I can’t do this much longer!” Stella said who was already getting tired.
“Keep it still,” Morgana urged, moving to the door handle. “The rest of the gears should stop moving soon.”
Sam couldn’t even spare breath to say yes in response. His muscles were already starting to ache and he could feel beads of sweat gathering on his arms and forehead. He gritted his teeth and pushed off the door with his foot to try and keep Flamboyance still. Every second was painful and the sword kept shaking in his hands, then the sound of turning and ticking stopped. A loud clunk was heard.
“Hold it!” Morgana said.
Morgana pulled the door handle down and Sam felt the door open. He yanked Flamboyance out of the barrel and promptly fell onto Stella causing them both to collapse onto the floor.
The turning, spinning and ticking started again and they heard the bolt slide back into position.
It was too late, however, the door was open.