There it was, Gramok’s toothy grin. “I told you it wasn’t going to work.”
Heat flared in Ted’s chest. “You said you thought it wasn’t going to work.”
Gramok shrugged. His stupid grin didn’t even have the decency to dim. “Sometimes I’m wrong.”
Not this time. Ted grunted and dropped the ridiculously heavy heater shield at Gramok’s feet. Even without properly equipping it, the traps had still gone off, just as the others had predicted. “We tested a hypothesis. It didn’t work. We learn from it and move on.”
Would a cardboard box have worked better? No way that could count as gear.
Did it have to be gear that set it off?
“Well, if we’re testing hypotheses…” Cara smiled and held up a stick. “I found this while you were doing your human barbeque impression.”
Ted’s heart sank. A stick? He closed his eyes and let a sigh escape. Missing the forest for the trees would get him killed one day. Hell, probably multiple times. “That would have been the smarter place to start.”
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded and hurled it at the fort. A flurry of firebolts incinerated it.
The traps stretched the entire length of the wall, around fifteen feet up. All of them began refilling with mana. One, two, three, four, five. “Five seconds, standard maximum cast time.” Ted looked away and shook his head, berating himself for not trying that first. “Good idea.”
“Five seconds isn’t long.” Cara paced up and down. “Gather a bunch of sticks? Have Gramok throw them while we make a break for it?”
“Too risky. There’s a safe zone, where the portcullis is set into the gateway, but that’s, what, a hundred yards to cover? We’d never make it in time.”
Gramok slumped against a nearby tree and pulled a huge sandwich out of his pack. “Good luck, guys. I’ll be here when you’re done.”
It was hard to blame him for sitting out. How he could still walk and talk, given his status list, was a mystery. “Enjoy the rest. We’ll let you know what sweet loot we get.”
The orc let out a belch and grinned ear to ear. “Oh, I’m sure you will.”
Teleportation would theoretically work, but it would be risky. Jeremy had repeatedly stressed how volatile an effect it was, a fact reinforced by the aspect’s refusal to form a stable spell whenever Ted had tried to build one from scratch.
No, Teleport wasn’t the way forward here, not if they could help it. Even when crafted and cast correctly, it still needed to be directed correctly. Rematerializing in solid matter would be catastrophic. “We need a distraction, Cara.”
“Isn’t that exactly what I said just now?”
“More than a few sticks.” Something that wouldn’t get incinerated. The traps detected light? Well then, they’d give them light. “I’ve got an idea.”
Gramok’s chuckle undercut the moment. “We’ve heard that before.”
Ted bit back a snarky response. Dropping into the mud wouldn’t achieve anything. This time, the results would speak for themselves. “Give me a moment.”
He weaved mana into a Light Projectile spell and launched it at the temple with a hissed, “Enmir!”
Another volley of firebolts intercepted the glowing bolt, dissipating it.
Ted tugged at his bottom lip, thinking the problem through. A hundred yards at 20 feet per second was 15 seconds, at least three waves of firebolts, probably four, and that was assuming he could safely cast the spells at a full pelt sprint.
Even so, with enough targets in the air, it might still work. A projectile spell would be too risky, though. They needed a buffer. He smiled. Time to put that dual form knowledge to good use again.
An Energy aspect to power it. A Light aspect to draw the fire. The form of an Orb to sustain it, and Projectile to deliver it. The two forms reluctantly coexisted, each drawing their own mana and stability costs.
The full five second cast time was out of the question, but watching how fast the stability dropped as he reduced the cast time was even more distressing than usual. Lowering the potency and duration helped to a point, but did nothing about the base costs of the aspects. Orb in particular cost 50 stability all by itself, but the only alternative was relying on timing a Projectile exactly right.
Even with the potency and duration dialed right down and the cast time at the full 5 seconds, the spell’s base stability was only 128%. Not that the duration made much of a difference with the potency so low.
Adding on 5% for his singular skill level, 19% for his Intelligence, and taking off 10% for the armor penalty gave a base success chance of 142%. That didn’t leave a lot of headroom for sprinting while casting. On the plus side, mana costs scaled much closer with potency and duration, meaning running out of mana wouldn’t be a major concern.
He checked the spell over one last time. Loose ends? No. Feedback loops? No. Unstable connections? No. It all looked right, not that there had been any expected problems when he’d blown himself up.
He swallowed hard and clenched his fist. If it went wrong, he’d learn from it. And hey, at least Death would be happy to see him. “Stand back.”
“You’ll be fine,” Cara said, scurrying away all the same.
His chest tightened and his heart rate kicked up a notch. He’d checked the spell. It would be fine. He mostly knew what he was doing by now, right?
Just in case, he reapplied Absorb before casting the new spell.
Mana responded inside him, more than required. He drew only what he needed, guided away the rest, and built up the tiny silvery orb between his hands. It shone, more a steady candle than a flashlight, but hopefully it would be enough to trigger the traps.
“Enmir!”
The translucent, glowing orb flew forward. The traps activated, launching a volley of firebolts at it. The bolts passed through the orb with unerring precision, and it flickered away, fading into nothing.
Spell crafted: Light Orb Bolt (Energy/Projectile-Orb/Light)
Cast time: 5 seconds
Components: Somatic (mirrored), Verbal (Enmir), Mental
Potency: 1.1
Duration: 10 seconds
Mana Cost: 36
Base Stability: 128%
Spellcrafting skill increased 4 → 5!
Energy magic skill increased 1 → 2!
Ted frowned and pulled at his top lip. Even after having seen the Light bolt disappeared, he’d held out hope that the Orb form would be sturdier.
“You can cast that faster, right?” Cara asked, her voice trailing off at the end.
He shook his head and turned to face her. Dropping the cast time would drop stability, and make it dangerous to cast at a full sprint. “With a 5 second cycle and cast time, there’s only one way this is going to work.”
She tilted her head and smiled, a gleam in her eye. “And so the learner becomes the teacher.”
All too aware that she lacked even a single point in Discern Magic, Ted nodded. “Yup. Get over her and watch what I do.”
“And then do something completely different?” she teased, bouncing over with far more joy in her step than the situation warranted. “That’s what a learner’s meant to do, right?”
Despite himself, Ted snorted. “That depends on how much they enjoy exploding.”
Deadpan, she replied, “I’ll leave all the joyful exploding to you.”
That mischievous smile of hers spread across her face, and Ted’s heart raced. He clamped down on it hard—they couldn’t afford to lose focus. Besides, it wasn’t like he was sticking around a moment longer than he had to. “Then you better watch closely.”
The feeling of running out of mana fresh in his mind, Ted put the Spellcrafting perk into Efficiency. Even if it didn’t make his spells stronger, 10% less mana meant 11% more of them, a bargain compared to 4.5% more potency from a third Potency perk.
Perk point spent, he recrafted the Light Orb Projectile spell and began casting it, over and over. Cara watched intently, moving around to study it from every angle. Without Discern Magic, learning any spell at all had to be a challenge, let alone one with dual forms.
More than a few times, the hard rock in Ted’s stomach grumbled, telling him to give it up already. That if she was going to learn it, she’d have gotten it by now. Each time, he thought back to training in the Forest, how hard it had been—and still was—to do something as simple as standing really still.
She’d stuck with him through that. He could do the same here, no matter how mind numbingly boring it was to cast the same spell over and over.
On the plus side, he gained another level in Energy magic.
Eventually, Cara said she was ready. Ted buffed her up with the strongest Touch/Absorb spell he could muster, and stepped back as she weaved the silvery magic in front of her.
“Enmir!”
The orb shot out of Cara’s hands toward the temple, and a wave of firebolts unceremoniously dissipated it.
Pride swelled in Ted’s chest. He smiled and held up his hand for a high five. “Good job.”
“I told you I’d get there.” She turned, a smirk on her lips, and stared at his upheld hand. “What’s that for?”
“Oh.” His shoulders dropped a little before he could catch them. “It’s an Earth celebration. You slap your hands together in the air.” His arm grew heavier, but he held it in place. “We call it a high five. It sounds silly, but… well, maybe it is.”
Her eyebrows pulled together, and she kept staring. Painfully slowly, she raised her hand, opened it, and tapped it against his. “Like that?”
“It’s a start.”
Gramok pulled out another sandwich, thick with meat. How many of those did he have? “If you guys are waiting for my injuries to heal, I’m going to need more food, some booze, and a lot more entertainment.”
They both shared a look, but he had a point. They had a job to do.
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Cara bounced from foot to foot. “Ready?”
“Nearly.” First, he had three Energy perk points that he could spend.
Quick Cast would help with putting up decoys, but this was hardly typical use. Light as an effect was a simple and stable effect—making a faster cast spell would be easy, if it weren’t for the dual Projectile-Orb form. He could make this plan work with or without the perks, what mattered more was making the right choice for the long term.
The name suggested the aspect was very open-ended—what wasn’t related to energy?—but did little to answer what effects it might have other than Light and Lightning.
Ted sighed. Much as unspent points did nothing to help, he didn’t have enough information to make an informed choice. Wishing that Jeremy were still with them, he left the points unassigned.
With that out of the way, he explained the plan in detail to Cara, and led them through a couple of dry runs until he was sure they were ready.
Cara grinned and licked her lips. “We got it. Let’s do this!”
“We will.” Ted’s chest tightened, praying there weren’t any more traps that he’d missed. “Remember, aim for the middle line of the portcullis but vary the height. We want all the traps targeting the same orb, but not so close together that they get caught in the crossfire.”
“You’ll make a good Prowler.”
“I’ll tell Jeremy you said that.”
“Said what?” The innocent smile on her face was anything but.
Ted buffed them both up with Absorb, just in case. It wouldn’t take more than a single hit, if that, but it would be better than taking the full brunt of one. “Ready to cast on my signal?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Three, two”—Ted started casting—"one, cast!”
Ted focused on his own spell, trusting Cara to do his part. If this went right, they’d make it to the other side without a scratch. If it went wrong…
“Enmir!” He unleashed the spell and sprinted forward, counting to five in his head.
A volley of firebolts intercepted the orb, wiping it from existence. A moment later, another silvery orb flew out from behind him, hovering in the air further ahead.
Three, two, one. Ted slowed and began casting again, adjusting his speed to keep the success chance above 100%. As he weaved the silvery magic before him, Cara sprinted past, her short legs a blur, before coming to an abrupt halt and starting her own cast.
Cast, sprint, cast, sprint. They leapfrogged forward, adding decoy orbs faster than the traps could clear them. The orbs formed a line pointing to the portcullis, each differing in height and distance to maintain separation.
Despite stopping for every cast, Cara reached the safety of the portcullis first. Relief sung in Ted’s chest. She’d made it—that was what mattered most.
Ted hung back behind the few orbs still above, only just close enough to make it in a single sprint. His heart pounded as he waited for his opening.
The moment the next volley fired, he charged full pelt for the portcullis.
A foolish glance upward confirmed the traps were recharging fast—if he’d misjudged the distance, this was about to get very hot.
He ran as fast as he could, each stride bringing him closer and closer to safety. His legs clamored for relief, his stamina all but spent, but he pushed on. Just a little further…
Safety closed in fast. Unwilling to slow down, he raised his arms and braced himself before slamming against the portcullis and shuddering to a hard stop.
His lungs burned, but nothing else did. He’d made it.
They’d made it.
He turned and leaned against the portcullis, not even caring about its cold ridges digging into his back. “Nicely done.”
“I barely did anything,” Cara said, bouncing around, already enthralled by the brightly decorated walls of the entrance way. “The plan was all yours.”
Ted couldn’t bring himself to argue the point. Forcing himself upright, he looked around at the walls. They were decorated with vivid paintings of lions, dragons, and many more powerful creatures Ted didn’t recognize.
Interesting as the old castle was, this wasn’t a damned tourist trip. The solution to getting inside would no doubt be magic, and Ted couldn’t make out anything on the walls beyond the same structural enchantments as the outside.
No traps, though, at least. The murder holes in the roof for defenders to pour down burning oil, or worse, were a little concerning, but he didn’t hear any indications of life within. Given nothing had happened yet, they were probably safe for now, but it would be best not to hang about too long.
The portcullis itself, barring access to the courtyard beyond, was an intricated masterpiece of enchantment. Protection, Force, Armor, Absorb, Repair, and Hold aspects all shone in its perfectly preserved metal bars.
Ted considered testing the strength of the Absorb enchantment, more out of scientific curiosity than any reasonable hope of overpowering it, but a closer examination ruled out even attempting it.
Subtle, almost invisible purple lines ran along the edge of each bar, no doubt connected to a Telepathy aspect of some kind. A trigger, given its similarities to the Alarm aspect, and Ted doubted it lead to anything nice.
He jerked upright again as a gentle touch settled on his back.
Cara rested her head against his shoulder. “We made it. Take a moment, breathe, enjoy it. Isn’t it pretty?”
“Yeah, we made it.” He stared at the metal portcullis blocking their way and shook his head. “To the heavily enchanted and trapped portcullis.”
“And that smell!” Cara breathed in deeply and let out a contented purr. “I wish we had flowers like that in the Great Forest.”
Flowers? Ted sniffed the air, picking up the faint traces of a sweet, clean fragrance. If he had more levels in Perceptions and a perk point in Aromatic Insights, maybe he’d find it as great as she did.
Then again, probably not.
Looking out at the courtyard revealed the source of the scent—colorful flowers arranged either side of a mosaic path. Three orderly, perfectly symmetrical rows of flowers lined each side of the path, leading the way to a wooden door at the far end of the courtyard.
Ted snorted at the ridiculousness of it. Murder holes and a flower garden. What else to expect from magical warrior monks?
Turning back to the task at hand, breaking through the gate was clearly a non-starter. The surrounding stone offered no hint of vulnerability either, magical or otherwise. Why would there be? It was more of a fortress than a temple.
Brute force hadn’t gotten them past the outer defenses, no reason to think it would here.
Ted paused and cocked his head. “That was too easy.”
“Too easy?” Her eyes widened and blinked rapidly. “Those firebolts would have disintegrated us!”
“Sure, but they’re all the same type, all the same range, placed in a line. Why didn’t we get blasted back the moment we approached the gate? Why aren’t we covered in burning tar?”
The clench of her jaw said it all. He was right, but that didn’t answer the why. Was it a test? These were ruins, of a sort. Maybe there would be clues Archeology could use.
Time to spend his second Archeology perk point. Language, culture, history—all of them would be important, and he’d put a perk point into each when he could. Question was, which did he need most now?
Not language, not with Gramok a shout away. That left Cultured Explorer or Past of Present. The wood elven historical tomes had focused on their past but had at least touched upon the history of others. Orc culture, on the other hand, was a complete mystery, and without knowing what was important, Gramok’s assistance from a distance wouldn’t achieve much.
Ted put the point into Cultural Explorer, braced himself for the hit, and activated Archeologist’s Sight.
Information flooded in, pounding against his temples in an uncontrollable torrent. He endured, refusing to give in. No way he was dropping Discern Magic here—his brain would just have to get used to it.
Gradually, the pain dulled to a background throb as the information settled in his mind like memories long forgotten. The open-air holes in the portcullis were a vulnerability. There should have been a gate to block line of sight, but there was no sign that there had ever been one. Why not? Why were attackers supposed to be able to see in?
A trap, or an invitation?
The walls, the gate, the flowers, all of it was left-right symmetrical—all except for a single spot along the tunnel wall, halfway between the portcullis and the outside of the wall. The lion on the left stared at a dark, winged horror on the right, a discordance impossible to ignore once he’d spotted it.
“See something?”
“Maybe.” Ted kneeled before the lion image and pressed his finger against it. It was completely smooth, not even the hint of a grain. These weren’t paintings at all, none of them were—the vivid colors were part of the stone itself, no doubt added by magic long ago.
The detail with which each of the creatures were depicted was astounding, conveying a sense of the raw power of each of them, whether armed with talons, claws, or teeth. Looking at the lion mid-roar, Ted could almost hear it.
He paused, scanning the other creatures. Other than the winged horror opposite, the lion was the only one with its mouth open. Ted leaned in closer. That couldn’t be a mere coincidence.
There, right in the center of the lion’s mouth, sat a miniscule mana reservoir, hidden beneath the surface. If he hadn’t known where to look, it would have been almost impossible to spot.
The reservoir was empty, not that it could hold enough mana to do much at all. Enough, perhaps, to trigger an enchantment elsewhere. A secret way in, or a trap? Only one way to find out.
A knot twisted in Ted’s gut, but this was the only clue they had, and he wasn’t turning around now. After buffing them each with Absorb, he pressed his finger to the reservoir and guided mana into it.
It filled immediately, but kept pulling more mana in. The drainage was tiny, less even than his meager mana regeneration, but constant, flowing somewhere.
He glanced around, expecting something to have happened, but no. The portcullis hadn’t moved. Nothing had exploded. There was only silence.
Utter silence.
Not even Cara’s breathing.
He spun around to find her there, tense as a bowstring, completely motionless, Stealth active.
She smiled and exhaled heavily. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” His galloping heart slowed to a trot and he half-chuckled. “There’s a place to store mana here. I filled it, but nothing happened. And now the mana’s drained away already.”
He turned his attention to the winged creature opposite the lion. Again, there was a miniscule reservoir in its mouth. Repeating the experiment had identical results—nothing happened, and the mana drained away the moment it stopped flowing.
“Same this side,” Ted said, a thought forming in his mind. A single caster couldn’t fill both sides at the same time, not easily, anyway. “Mind getting the other side?”
“Sure.” She bounced over and pressed two fingers against the lion’s mouth. “How much mana does it need?”
“Barely any.” He cast Absorb on them both. “Better safe than sorry. On three?”
Her eyes shone, and she nodded. “One. Two. Three!”
He pushed mana into the reservoir. Metal creaked against stone and the portcullis rose.
A wide grin lit up Cara’s face. “What loot do you think there’ll be?
“Don’t go getting ahead of yourself. There’s still a long way to go.”
“I want a magic bow. Then Jeremy can have this stupid ‘master-crafted’ one back.”
Would Jeremy even care? Ted shook his head. Probably not. “Mind on the job, Cara.”
“Alright, Jeremy.”
Ignoring her, Ted carefully peeked around the corner. Sure enough, magical traps were set into the courtyard walls on both sides. “Well, the traps here are slightly different, at least. That door at the far end is the only way out.”
Testing the water, Ted fired a light orb into the courtyard. The traps remained silent, and the orb hung peacefully in the air, its silvery light adding to the uncomfortably serene feel of it all.
Cara pulled a stick from her pack and threw it down the path, equally drawing no response. “Maybe they’re disabled?”
Ted shook his head. “They’re primed with mana.” The whole setup felt far too much like a test not to be one.
He peered around the corner to study the closest of the traps. It was difficult to discern details at a distance, but the detector aspect appeared to be more complex. Rather than a simple trigger, it was constantly sending a signal to aspects deeper in the wall.
That did not bode well. On the plus side, the Projectile aspect was simpler. Could that be exploited?
His stomach twisted. Not without knowing what the differences amounted to. Without much closer study, and knowledge Ted lacked, that meant experimentation. Given nothing else had triggered it, human experimentation. “Wait here and watch, please.”
Her smile wavered, but she nodded.
Data, that’s all they needed. Trigger one, get out, see what they learned, proceed from there.
A solid plan, nothing to worry about. He’d already tanked two of them. What was the worst that could happen?
The knot in his gut clenched. Yeah, that.
He self-cast a high potency, short duration Absorb spell, took a deep breath, and stepped forward.
Sizzling filled the air. Ted leaped back, barely avoiding the wave of fire that rushed past, its heat tingling against his face.
Cooler air rushed behind, and tension rolled out of his muscles. Close, but he was still alive.
“One firebolt,” Cara said. “It shot out perpendicular to the wall, no homing or tracking as best I could tell.”
Ted peeked back around the corner. “If all the traps are like that, they’ll cover every inch of the path. Could we block them off somehow?”
“With what?” She stared at the path for a few moments with an empty expression, her head tilting from side to side. “How close together are the traps?”
“About every 5 feet.”
“I can make it.”
“Make what?” His stomach churned as he realized what she meant. “No, no way!”
“I’m fast enough. It’ll be close though—can you get that door open?”
Ted opened his mouth to argue, but her jaw was set, and she had that look in her eyes. She wouldn’t give in, not without a better plan. Much as he had no intention of admitting it, it wasn’t a terrible plan.
The door at the far end would be an issue, though. The lack of handles suggested it was a swing door, but what if it was locked, or magically held in place? Even if it wasn’t, it looked heavy. With fireballs on her ass, even the slightest delay could—
His breath caught in his throat. They’d make sure that didn’t happen.
The door was enchanted, much the same as the walls—Protection, Force, Armor, Absorb, Repair. No Hold aspect, though. It made sense, a door that couldn’t open would be pretty useless. In theory, getting it open wouldn’t be too hard.
Ted crossed his arms and stared at the path, trying to get into the head of whoever—or whatever—had designed the dungeon-temple. “If this is a battlemage test, there’s got to be a better solution than running really fast.”
“Battlemages, Ted. We Rangers don’t dump points into Dexterity for fun.”
The logic was worryingly sound. “There has to be another way.”
“There is.” She smirked and raised her eyebrows. “Teleportation?”
Ice stabbed into his chest. Teleportation.
Her smirk softened. “It’s not so far. You’ve cast harder spells than that.”
“It’s not the same.” His throat seized up.
“How so? Jeremy refused point blank to teach me any Portals magic.”
Ted’s fists clenched up tight and he turned away. “It’s different. Most spells, you manipulate the mana right, it does what you want. Teleportation, you imagine your destination and…”
Her hand settled upon his shoulder. “You’re worried you’ll try to go home?”
No.
Yes? Maybe? The results wouldn’t be pretty if he did.
He shrugged her hand away and clenched his jaw. That wasn’t the whole story. “I’ll see what I can do.”