“Turn it thirty-six degrees,” said Priss. I did as she said, I think. I wasn’t sure exactly how much thirty-six degrees was. “No! No! The other way! Do you not know your left from your right?”

“Well excuse me for not being a mind reader!” I barked. How was I supposed to know which way she meant?

We were in another circular chamber, this one bigger than the last. Thick stone columns that extended up to the ceiling dotted the area haphazardly. Each one was carved to have a texture like fish scales and had a base with four slender fish swimming around it. The walls were made of smooth teal stone so polished I could see my reflection in them. In the center of the chamber’s domed ceiling was a small circular port within which a chunk of glowing aquamarine was slotted. A thin blue beam, so bright that it provided all of the chamber’s light, fired from the crystal and into an aquamarine orb that was mounted on a short, swiveling stone plinth below.

The orb absorbed the beam and fired it out of one side, which was marked with a conical protrusion. Similar plinths of varying heights and orientations dotted the chamber just as haphazardly as the columns. On top of each was a round mirror that could reflect the beam at an angle. On the far side of the chamber was another set of double doors that had a picture of some kind of turtle mosaiced onto it with small, glittering shells.

After we entered the chamber (and got spooked by the slamming of the doors behind us), Bone-mask Nestemed appeared holding that mirror the stone-masked one had had and laid out the rules. The Trial of Wits was a puzzle, and all we had to do was manipulate the beam using the mirrors so that it ended up shooting into a port on the left side of the doors. There was no time limit or way to outright fail outside of giving up, but the beam would sting like a scalding iron if we touched it. That was it. As you can probably assume, Priss promptly appointed herself as the puzzle solver while I was relegated to being the mirror-swiveling stooge. We’d been twisting plinths around and trying different setups for maybe twenty minutes without getting anywhere close to solving it.

Priss crossed her arms and frowned. “There must be some kind of trick to this. Every configuration we try gets blocked by these infernal columns!”

“I’m pretty sure that’s why they’re here,” I said as I twisted a plinth twice my height.

Just as she said, every attempt ended with the beam getting blocked by a column. We’d tried being as direct as possible, taking a winding route around the whole room, and even crisscrossing the beam into a tight web that was a pain to navigate through. Sadly, the only thing we’d succeeded at was making ourselves frustrated.

“Hmph! Let’s start over then! Return to the central plinth and make it face . . .” She looked around the room.“That one!” She pointed at a mirror on the left side.

“We’re switching jobs if this doesn’t work,” I grumbled.

“Less complaining, more swiveling!”

I went around adjusting the mirrors as per Priss’ instructions again. Turn this one to the left, that one to the right, no no not that far right, turn that one to face that one, this one to face this one, climb up there and angle that one down, now angle that one up, stop dragging your feet, be more cooperative, don’t look at me like that. I turned the final plinth and watched as the beam buzzed against the side of a column. Another dud.

“Why is this so hard . . .” I said under my breath. I peered around the column and saw Nestemed standing next to the door’s light port thing like a scarecrow. I’d accidentally hit her with the beam a few times while twirling the mirrors around, but she always managed to deflect it with her own mirror.

“Losing hope already? Oh ho ho ho! Such a weak will you have, Darni Voker!” chortled Priss. “We must our chins high and our tails bushy, as no puzzle is unsolvable!” She scanned the room again and nodded to herself. “In fact, I’ve already devised the next possible layout. I want you to—”

I raised my hand to cut her off. “Remember what I said? We’re switching jobs.” I turned my outstretched hand into a pointing finger. “You’re the mirror swiveler now.”

Priss frowned and crossed her arms. “Fine, but I highly doubt your plans fare any better than me!”

Thus began another round of frantic mirror adjusting. I’ll spare you and say that, just as Priss so rudely predicted, I didn’t fare any better. I’d get so close only to get blocked by a column or end up a mirror or two short of the goal. After a while, I started to wonder if it was even possible to solve the puzzle as it was presented. I wouldn’t put it past the Nestemeds to create an unbeatable trial. Remember that first question she asked in the last one? After about twenty minutes of ineffective attempts, Priss grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me to the edge of the room, as far from Nestemed as possible. She leaned in and held her hand next to her mouth.

“It shames me to ask this, but do you think it would be possible to— cheat?” she whispered. She glanced to the side guiltily like she’d just blasphemed.

I’d actually considered cheating already. I’d given the mirrors a good tug thinking I could wrench them off their mounts and place them around as I liked, but they were really stuck onto those plinths. It could always wedge them off with Bravesreign, but there was a solid chance they’d get broken in the process. If that happened, we’d be totally sunk.

“Do you have something in mind?” I asked, also in a whisper.

Priss glanced to the side and sneakily pointed to Nestemed. “I had the idea of taking that mirror Nestemed carries and using it as an additional reflector. The only issue would be wrestling it from her grasp. Its improbable that she’d give it up without a fight.”

I slanted my eyes and glanced at Nestemed. “Let me give it a try,” I said. I was sure I could coax her into helping if I was subtle about it.

I walked over to Nestemed and smiled at her. She was staring straight ahead and didn’t look at me until I was right in front of her.

“Hey Nestemed? Priss and I were talking and we think it would be better if you stood over . . .” I looked over my shoulder and saw Priss standing off to the side of the room. She was pointing at her feet in an extremely unsubtle manner while trying her best to look unassuming. “Over where Priss is.”

“For what purpose?” asked Nestemed. I had a feeling she’d ask something like that.

“No real reason! Just— I— I, uh,” I stopped and tried to formulate some excuse that’d work for her, but nothing came to mind. “You know what, forget it!” I turned to Priss and said, “Come help me move her!”

Priss ran over, an amused look on her face, and said, “The direct approach as always, I see.”

“You know it,” I said through a smirk.

We each grabbed hold of Nestemed and lifted her a few inches off the ground, then carried her over to where Priss had been standing. She remained completely static as we transported her, almost like she was oblivious to what was going on. I set her down and steadied her as she teetered side to side like a vase. Priss took hold of her arms and adjusted them so she was holding her mirror out in front of herself.

“Why have you done this?” asked Nestemed. “I am curious as to your intentions.”

“Just doing some redecorating,” I said with a wide smile. I turned to Priss and made a serious face. “Let’s hurry up and solve this thing.”

From there we tried solving the puzzle a few more times with our new Nestemed-mirror. Being able to move her around and place her where we pleased opened up a whole new world of possibilities, but we still couldn’t manage it. We could get the beam to cross in front of the port, but we’d need one more mirror if we wanted to get it in.

I looked down at the beam and scratched my head. “Maybe I could polish my pauldron until it’s reflective?” I said. I was running out of ideas by this point.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Attempt it if you think it’ll work. Anything to get us out of this accursed chamber!” said Priss. She huffed and crossed her arms. “To think there’s a puzzle that could stump me so!”

I nodded and opened up my satchel. I always kept small containers of sword and armor polish down in the bottom for when I needed to look my best. I rooted around for a moment and pulled out a small cloth bag. I lifted the bag up in front of my nose and felt a smile creep across my face.

“Thank you DVAS!” I said aloud.

If you’ll recall, the members of DVAS had given me some small trinkets before we left for the palace. One of them had been that bone die I used to get us out of our cell, and one of the others was a little hand mirror! I pulled the mirror out of my satchel and held it over my head triumphantly.

“DVAS? What is DVAS? More importantly, what is that you’re holding?” asked Priss.

I raised my finger and said, “DVAS, the Darni Voker Adoration Society! My very own fan club!” I held the mirror out and flipped it in my hand. “And this is a little gift they gave me!”

Priss went white like her soul had left her body. “Y-You, Darni Voker, have a fan club?”

I looked at her sidelong, a stupid little smirk on my face. “What, you don’t?”

Priss froze, then crossed her arms and smiled anxiously. “O-Of course I do! I have— battalions— no, whole armies of loyal fans! So many in fact that it would be impossible for them all gather in one location!” The corner of her mouth was twitching as she said that.

I brought my face near hers, just close enough to make her uncomfortable. “What’s the name of your club then? I’m sure it’s got a fancy one.”

She flinched. “Y-You don’t need to know that!”

I laughed and took a step back. “If you say so! By the way, Sherri has a fanclub too!”

Priss’ eyes went wide. “You’re joking.”

“Nope! It’s called SHIC and they’re pretty dedicated as well,” I said. “Oh, but I’m sure they’re nothing compared to your club.” I covered my mouth and smirked at her as mischievously as I could. I was having more fun messing with her than I’d like to admit.

She stumbled backwards and braced herself against a scaly column. “H-ha! You’ve got that right, Darni Voker! Neither of your paltry clubs can hold a candle to mine! Oh ho ho ho!” She threw her head back and turned away to hide how much she was sweating.

I left her to her denial and walked over to the light beam. I held out the mirror carefully as to not zap my hands and tilted it to the side. The beam struck against it, reflected ninety degrees, and went straight into the receptacle port next to the door.

DING

An unseen bell chimed tinnily. The huge double doors shuddered, then slid apart just wide enough to pass through. Guess there weren’t any rules about how you solved the puzzle, just that you had to solve it.

“You have completed the Trial of Wits,” said Nestemed. “Continue on to the Trial of skill.”

“I’m glad none were here to witness me fall to such scummy methods of victory . . .” said Priss as she passed through the doors and into the darkness of the next chamber.

“I was there,” I said as I followed behind her.

“You don’t count!”

The doors slammed behind us and a series of glowing vine-bulbs lit up overhead. They cast a warm, dim light over the chamber. This one was hemispherical with us entering in the center of the curved part. There was a rectangle of shell-tiled floor in the center third with pools of shimmering water on either side. On the other side of the chamber was another set of double doors, these ones with an image of a bell across their center with crystal formations ringing it. On either side of the door were three sword-bearing statues like there had been in the room before we started the trials. In front of the door looked to be a big boulder with crags covering its top.

Nestemed, the one in the stone mask, appeared in the center of the chamber and held out her arms. “This is the final trial, intruders. The Trial of Skill. Behind that door,” she motioned to the big door on the other end of the room, “are the yet-preserved. Blocking your path is a guardian.” She motioned to the big boulder. “You may either wait for it to move of its own volition, or force it to move by your own power.”

I put my hands on my hips and grimaced. “Waiting for a rock to move? What does that have to do with skill?” I asked.

“Patience is a skill, I suppose,” said Priss. She didn’t sound happy.

“Yeah, but how long would we have to wait? It’d be fine if its five or ten minutes, but what if we’re here days?” I pointed at Nestemed. “How long do we have to wait? You better give me a clear answer!”

“I render no—”

“Yeah, yeah, no aid during trials! Jeez, why did I even bother . . .” I crossed my arms and turned to Priss. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like wasting my time here, so I’m going for option two.”

I marched across the room, pushed Nestemed aside, and stopped in front of the boulder. It was about one and a half times my height and wider than it was tall. The bottom raised slightly at the edges and was oddly smooth. I nodded to myself. It looked like it could slide pretty well. I walked around to the side and pressed my hands against it, then pushed with all my might. I trudged in place, my feet sliding against the ground, but the dumb rock refused to budge. I turned around and tried pushing back-first, but that didn’t work either.

“That is no way to push an obstacle!” said Priss. She stomped over, shoving Nestemed aside as she went, and lined up next to me. “Pushing back-first is something strongmen do to impress others! Here, do as I do.” She placed her hands firmly against the boulder, straightened her back, and bent her arms. “Proper form is key, lest you injure yourself beyond repair!”

“Thanks for the tips . . .” I said with squinted eyes. Did she really have to put on such a show just to say “let me help you”? Must have been that Afinsheer pride of hers clouding her brain like usual. The two of us combined our strength and pressed against the boulder with everything we could muster, but still it refused to move.

“None in the history of Valtameri have succeeded by such means,” said Nestemed.

I glared at her. “Isn’t that some aid you just rendered?”

She covered the lower part of her mask and turned away like she was embarrassed.

After more fruitless pushing, I decided to whack the boulder with Bravesreign, and a little later Priss joined in with her axe. The hope was to break it up so it’d be easier to move, but we quickly realized it would take too long to accomplish anything. Every swing would send a few pieces flying off, but it was like trying to chop a tree with a dinner knife. Possible, but not feasible. Also, the head of Priss’ axe chipped after four swings. That part really twisted her into a knot. All I could do was shrug though. She should know that a normal weapon like hers can’t compare to Bravesreign.

I punched the side of the boulder and stepped back. “So we really have to sit here and wait, huh?” I said.

“It would seem so, as much as it pains me to say,” said Priss.

I sighed and sat down a few steps from the boulder. “May as well stop for dinner then.” I opened up my satchel and pulled out some fruit I’d picked when on our second trip through the prison tower’s garden. I took a barely ripe pear and held it out to Priss. “You want some?”

“Stop for dinner? While our companions could be in unparalleled peril? Your insensitivity knows no bounds, Darni Voker!”

“You weren’t complaining when we were locked up,” I said.

“That was a different situation!” she said. “Hmph! You should know that there are appropriate times and places—"

GRRRRRRRRRRR

Her stomach growled so loudly it could scare the feathers off a cockatrice. She snatched the pear from my hand and sat down without another word. I opened my mouth to crack a joke at her expense, but she preempted me with a red-faced sneer and a raised fist. Even then I still laughed at her. Priss held the pear out at arm’s length. She twisted it around, brought it closer to her face, sniffed it, and generally inspected it from every angle.

“What are you doing?” I asked. Pulled out a hard yellow apple and took a reluctant bite. It wasn’t good at all, but it was food.

“I’m very particular about my fruit,” she said, still examining the pear. “You never know when you’ll find a brown spot or a worm.”

“Well, you better hurry before someone else comes and gobbles it up!” I curled and uncurled my fingers like claws while grinning toothily.

“Try it and I’ll throw you in that water!” she barked. She scooted away, turned her back to me, and hunched over. Did she think I was really going to steal the fruit I’d just given her? We ate in silence for a while, and then she yelled again. “If you don’t back off right this instant, I really will throw you!”

“What are you talking about?” I asked through a mouthful of half-chewed apple. I looked over and felt my eyes bulge from my head. “Ah! Priss! Don’t move!”

“Why not? If this some game you’re—”

“Don’t move, you blockhead!”

It turns out the boulder wasn’t a boulder at all, it was an old cragback turtle!

Four thick, cracked flippers ending in claws the size of knives had extended from its sides, and a stout, single-horned head with tiny blue eyes was poking from its front. Its flesh was dark grey, insanely wrinkly, and had a texture like coarse stone. It was propping itself up on its front flippers and looking over Priss’ shoulder. I stood up slowly and drew Bravesreign. I could probably take it out with a single slice to the face, but things would go screwy if it caught wind of my plans. Cragbacks, despite their stony looks, could be incredibly aggressive and nimble when threatened.

“My patience is at its end, Darni Voker! If you don’t tell me what trick you’re playing I’ll—” Priss turned around and came face to face with the turtle. It blew a jet of hot, wet air from its nose that blew her hair back. She blinked twice in disbelief, then screamed. “Why didn’t you tell me this foul beast was right on top of me!?” She scurried away like a terrified crab and pointed at the turtle with a shaky finger. “G-Get rid of it!”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” I said through grit teeth. I inched around the side of the turtle, which was still looking at Priss curiously, and approached its head. I tip-toed over its back right flipper, then its front right flipper, then raised Bravesreign over my head for a decisive swing. “Yaaaaa!” I brought Bravesreign down like I was chopping wood.

SCHWING CHINK

The turtle retracted its head into its shell an instant before Bravesreign hit. Bravesreign’s tip bit into the floor and wedged itself in so deep that I had to yank it free. I stumbled backwards and saw the turtle turn to face me. It didn’t look happy.

GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

The turtle extended its head and roared horribly. I raised Bravesreign again and took a defensive stance. If it was a fight it wanted, it was a fight it’d get