Lucy rubbed her temples and sighed. “What exactly do you think we librarians are?”
“Well, you seem to be very adept at magic,” Sarah offered with a sheepish grin.
John groaned softly next to her and the look on his face screamed, “This was your plan?”
Three dwarves clad in red robes were standing nearby, looking equally unimpressed. They were all gathered in the secret conference room in the Library’s bowels where Sarah had just outlined her plan to them.
“Some of us may be adept with magic,” Lucy allowed, “But that doesn’t mean we know how to use it to kill.”
“No one said anything about killing,” Sarah offered weakly.
Lucy summoned the wind which lifted her until her eyes were level with Sarah’s. “Don’t take me for a fool. We both know what’s going to happen if we barge into the Cathedral and demand the Inquisitors hand Udoriol over.”
“Is it true that no one has heard from the Marquis either?” Sarah asked, having heard the rumour when she first arrived in the city, “Perhaps we could get the City Guard involved.”
“I’m afraid they have more pressing matters to attend to,” Lucy said, “What with the orcs at both walls.”
“I’m afraid that I can’t agree to your request either,” Brother Matthieu said. He was a wrinkled, greying dwarf who was the Elder of the city’s Temple to Agni. “What you’re proposing is tantamount to open war with the Treton Church.”
Sarah looked to Lucy desperately, “But aren’t you Udoriol’s friend? Don’t you want to help him escape?”
“I am and I do,” Lucy replied evenly, “But what you’re proposing simply will not work.”
“Does anyone have any suggestions?” Sarah asked hopefully.
The three dwarves frowned, and Brother Matthieu shook his head. “As priests of Agni, our main concern is keeping you safe.”
“No one in this city will be safe if Ratri’s followers are allowed to bring their plans to fruition,” Sarah warned.
“Now I say this with as much respect as possible,” Brother James said and licked his lips before continuing, “But you don’t even know what those plans are.”
“We are fairly sure that they intend to harvest the souls of this entire city and the people outside,” Sarah said.
“And they do have proof,” Lucy added as she produced the soul gem from the folds of her robe.
Brother Matthieu recoiled upon seeing it. “I don’t know what that is, but I can tell that it is foul.”
“And then there’s the matter with the orcs,” Sarah said before quickly describing their sudden withdrawal but being careful to omit any mention of the other presence.
“That all sounds very worrying,” Brother Matthieu remarked when she was finished. “However, that seems like all the more reason for us to escort you as far away from this city as we can.”
“I believe that Ratri’s machinations could have dire consequences for the entirety of the Pantheon,” Sarah insisted, “She must be stopped here, and freeing my companions will help us greatly.”
“Ratri is supposed to be Agni’s lieutenant,” Brother James countered, “Or so some of the scriptures say. Darkness and death, fire, and war, two sides of the same coin. Perhaps our lord welcomes Her ascension.”
“That is dangerous talk, Brother James,” Brother Matthieu warned, “Bordering on heresy.”
Sarah thought she caught a flash of hatred in the younger dwarf’s eyes. “Lucy,” she said, “Can you cast a Circle of Truth?”
“Yes,” the old halfling said, “why?”
Before Sarah could speak, Brother James began chanting a foul sounding incantation. He was cut short when John delivered a swift jab to his throat. As the dwarf gasped for air, John kicked his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. Before Brother James could react, John was on top of him, holding a letter opener to his throat.
“You had better be very careful with the next words that come out of your mouth,” he warned.
“Well done,” Lucy said approvingly. Her eyes then narrowed on the letter opener in John’s hand. “Young man, I do believe that is the property of the Grand Library.”
“I was only borrowing it,” John replied evenly without taking his eyes off Brother James.
“The Circle of Truth, please Lucy,” Sarah's voice trembled as she spoke, shaken by the sudden violence that had broken out.
“Oh, I was lying about that,” she replied, “That spell is only reserved for Treto’s devout, but I thought it wise to play along.”
Brother Matthieu shook his head sadly. “Brother James, what have you done?”
“Do not call me brother,” James spat, “My eyes have been opened. I serve the Night Goddess and there is no need for pretence now.”
He then turned his malevolent eyes on Sarah. “Her Chosen’s time is almost at hand, and then he will come for you. He will come for all of you. Night Goddess, Goddess of Death, I come to you now!”
Before anyone could react, he lifted his head and sliced his neck open on the letter opener John was holding against it.
James gurgled and coughed as he choked on his own blood, but his mouth was fixed in a maniacal grin. He died looking into Sarah’s eyes.
“Bloody maniacs!” John cried.
It took Sarah a moment to tear her eyes off the dead dwarf. She trembled as she took a deep breath to compose herself.
“It seems that even the Temple of Agni has been infiltrated by Her worshippers,” Sarah said quietly, “I think we can all agree that they are dangerous.”
“Yes,” Brother Matthieu agreed, “But what can we do?”
“Help me save my friends from the Inquisition,” Sarah replied.
“The question remains, ‘how?’” Lucy said.
“And who can we trust?” Brother Matthieu added.
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“Our companions can use the Circle of Truth,” John said as he moved between Sarah and Brother Marcus, not trusting Brother Marcus, “Then we will know for certain who serves Her.”
Then, Sarah was struck by a flash of inspiration. “Say, the others are probably locked up in an Inquisitor’s dungeon, but as Treto’s Chosen, it stands to reason that Hicham isn’t.”
Lucy shrugged. “We won’t know for sure without a way into the cathedral.”
She glanced at the red robed priests and continued, “Which is locked up tight thanks to those fanatics.”
Sarah nodded. “Perhaps Cheval knows someone…”
“Speak of the devil,” someone announced as the door slid open.
Sarah turned and saw Cheval, who had stopped mid-sentence upon seeing James’ body.
“And he shall appear,” Cheval finished the idiom with considerably less enthusiasm than he started it with.
“Ah you’re here, finally,” Lucy said, “That dwarf is a worshipper of Ratri. He did that to himself when he thought he was about to be exposed.”
The tall dwarf nodded in understanding as he stood transfixed by the ugly gash across James’ throat.
“I was just about to spring a rescue plan into action when I received your summons,” Cheval said at length, “It appears that I was right in coming to see what you wanted to discuss first.”
“What’s your plan?” Sarah asked.
With some effort, Cheval tore his eyes off the body and looked at Sarah. “My boys did some renovation work on the cathedral a few months ago. They know the ins and outs of the annexe, which is where it so happens that the Inquisition keep their prisoners.”
Cheval outlined the plan and that night, they met up in one of the Lower City’s back alleys.
“Did the city always smell this bad?” Sarah asked, making a face.
“You must have been so excited from escaping the orcs that you didn’t notice,” Cheval beamed, “this is your handiwork, you know. You were the ones who collapsed the sewer.”
“But that was in the Upper City,” Sarah pointed out.
Cheval’s smile broadened. “And you think the nobles are dumping their waste in their backyard? No! they’re carting it over here to dump on this side of the river.”
“Are you ready?” one of Cheval’s men asked.
“Go on then, Alec.”
The younger dwarf prised open a manhole with a crowbar and the smell that came spilling out was enough to make Sarah’s eyes water.
“Are you sure you want to go down there?” John asked with distaste.
“Only if you want to save your friends,” Cheval laughed.
It was then that Sarah noticed that the dwarf was wearing high topped leather boots and thick leather trousers. He climbed down into the dark hole and landed somewhere below with a splash. She looked down at her own clothes and sighed. She was wearing a dress than fell to her ankles and her favourite walking boots. Chances were that she’d need to replace both by the time the night was over.
She took a deep breath and one of Cheval’s men chuckled, “No point in holding your breath, lassie, you’re going to be down there for a long time.”
“I’d also think twice about breathing through your mouth. You want to keep that shut in case something splashes onto you.”
Sarah was sure she had turned green as she climbed down into the hole. She winced as she splashed into the unseen sewage that had backed up to the point where it came up to her knee. John was right behind her. The Priests of Agni had agreed to redouble their efforts at the doors of the cathedral through the night to keep the White Cloaks distracted while they did their thing. Lucy had elected to stay behind and put her trusted minions to work, continuing their research into Ratri. They had decided that poking through the Inquisitor’s dungeon was best left to a small team utilizing stealth rather than a full scale assault.
“Remember, lassie, no fire magic down here,” Cheval warned as he held up a lantern. A crystal glowed within, providing them with light, “the gasses have been building up beyond what the ventilation can handle, and an open flame could blow up half the Lower City.”
Sarah looked at the dwarf blankly. “Gasses?”
“Sewer gasses, they’re explosive,” Cheval pointed out.
Sarah turned pale and then had to focus every fibre of her being on not throwing up as the stench assaulted her. Her shoes were now completely waterlogged by the foul sewage, and the skirts of her dress clung to her legs as she walked. She had considered hitching them up but felt better about having them guard her against whatever was floating down here.
“It’s not far to their dungeon,” Cheval whispered, “So try to be quiet.”
They waded through the foul smelling sewage for another fifteen minutes when Cheval stopped in front of a boarded up section of wall. He used a prybar to pull the planks off and then pushed on the masonry behind it. The bricks fell in easily, leaving a gaping hole.
“In you go,” the dwarf whispered.
Sarah and John climbed in and found themselves in a small storeroom. They were out of the sewers now, but Sarah didn’t think she would ever feel clean again. She resisted the urge to strip off her dress and set it on fire as she watched John pad up to the door. He pulled it open slightly and peered into the darkened corridor beyond.
“It looks clear,” he whispered.
“Now we only have to hope that they don’t smell us coming,” Sarah sighed, in despair at the state of her dress.
“Wait here for the all-clear.” He drew the dagger Cheval had lent him and slipped out of the room.
Having written off her dress, Sarah tried to clean her hands on them as best she could, knowing that it was pointless. The sewer was also their way out. The door opened again sooner than expected.
“I’ve found them,” John said, “Come on.”
“That was quick,” Sarah blinked.
“It’s not a big dungeon,” John shrugged.
The angry shouts of Agni’s faithful could be heard above them as John led her down the short passageway to a wood barred cell where Grimald and Kurt were lying on a stone bench, snoring softly. Sarah muttered a short prayer to Agni but stopped when John held up a ring full of keys.
“They were just hanging on the wall,” he said, “It looks like we’re the only ones down here.”
“Brother Matthieu and the others must be doing a good job distracting them,” Sarah remarked.
John unlocked the cell and walked in. He was about to kick Grimald off the bench to give him a fright, but the dwarf cracked upon an eye as he drew near.
“You’re lucky the two of you are so loud,” he said, “Or I would have strangled you thinking you were a guard.”
John smirked. “Sure you would have.”
Grimald sat upright and made a face. “You two smell terrible.”
John’s eyebrows shot up. “We crawled through a river of shit to save you, and this is the thanks we get?”
“The unfortunate side-effect of what you did,” Kurt pointed out as he got to his feet. The pair looked a little bedraggled, but otherwise fine.
“I have to say I’m surprised to see you here,” Grimald remarked, “I thought you’d be halfway to Effulian by now.”
“We’ll tell you about it later,” Sarah said tersely, “Where are the others?”
The dwarf’s face became stern. “They’ve got them in the next room.”
Sarah raised her eyebrows. “So you never got to meet the Cardinal?”
Grimald shook his head. “The Inquisition grabbed us the moment we opened the carriage doors.”
“Were they waiting for you?” Sarah asked.
“It sure seemed like it,” Grimald replied.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Kurt said, “A member of my staff probably tipped them off.”
“I thought you’d dismissed all your Treto worshipping staff,” Sarah pointed out.
Kurt smiled ruefully. “It would appear that I have employed a horde of liars.”
“Let’s go see to the others,” John urged, “Every second we waste increases the chance of us getting caught.”
“I’ll show you the way,” Grimald said.
He led them down the corridor and into a room with cruel looking implements of torture. There was an iron maiden, a bronze statue with a pile of ashes in front of it, and a rack. Grimald walked up to a door and placed his hand against it.
“They opened this using some form of magic,” he said.
“Then we’ll wait for one of them to come down and force him to open it,” John said grimly.
“No,” Sarah said.
“Wait, that will bring every Inquisitor in here down on our heads,” John protested.
“We don’t have time to waste,” Sarah pointed out.
John sighed and the others stood well back as she began chanting a spell. “Fire blast.”
The bolt of fire exploded against the wall, exposing a chamber beyond. Grimald rushed in first, followed by Sarah, who gasped and fell to the floor as soon as she entered.
“This is where they hold the magic users,” Hicham croaked weakly, “The walls are made magic absorbing abracite.”
John tossed the ring of keys to Grimald before helping Sarah to her feet. Udoriol and Hicham were manacled to the walls of their respective cells. They looked bruised and bloodied, but otherwise fine.
“I’m surprised they didn’t torture you, laddie,” Grimald remarked as he tried each of the keys in the lock of Udoriol’s cell.
“I think they’re saving me for someone,” Udoriol said with a weak smile.
“I don’t mean to alarm you, but we have company,” Kurt warned as shouts were heard coming down the stairs.
John helped Sarah out of the hidden room. “Can you use your magic?” he asked.
She chanted softly and held up her hand, but nothing happened.
“No, not yet,” she said weakly.
“Grimald, set them free!” John shouted over his shoulder, “We need to leave!”
“I’m trying, laddie,” Grimald said through gritted teeth.
He twisted a key in the hole, and it opened with a loud click. He rushed over to Udoriol and cursed.
“Yea, this is locked too,” Udoriol winced, “Sorry.”
Moments later, the door to the dungeon burst open and White Cloaks swarmed the room with their weapons drawn.
A man wearing a white cloak that was lined with gold strode in behind the others. “What in Treto’s name is going on down here?”