Two red, faceted gems stared at me.

"Who are you?"

The voice was metallic, bouncing off a hollow, metal cavity.

My jaw dropped.

It could talk…

The thing that was Nostrand Del blinked, the golden metal of its face acting as naturally as skin.

"Are you one of my son's whelps or, perhaps, a great-grandson?"

What should I say?

His sons were the ones who overthrew him; he should hate them, but would that hatred carry over to his descendants? We were still a family, after all.

"Yes, I am your… uh… great-great-grandson."

"I see… Kill him."

I sighed.

It was worth a shot.

The ruby in Nostrand’s staff flared red and the stone men rushed forward, their pickaxes and shovels held high. With my free hand, I caught the pickaxe of one of the stone men at the top of its swing. I pushed the weapon to the side to slam the pommel of my short sword into its eye. I stepped back, avoiding a wide swing of another stone man. I stabbed it under the eye and twisted, popping out the crystal.

Was that the best they could do?

These stone men fought like townsfolk instead of soldiers or mercenaries. The only advantage they had was numbers.

"Jacob!"

I looked back.

Dugan and Castille had cleared the away. They were running back in my direction. Isla's eyes were wide with fear.

What? What is it?

I followed her eyes to see Nostrand Del with his finger raised in my direction.

I took a step back. Not that it would've helped.

"Gelatus.”

Every muscle.

Every joint in my body.

Froze.

High Elvish! Spoken High Elvish! The First Magic.

I strained to move... anything. I couldn’t blink. My eyes could only move left and right. My lungs took shallow breaths. It was not a mercy. Nostrand Del didn't want to kill me. That’s what the stone men were for.

"Pick him up," Dugan said.

He ran in front of me, deflecting a pickaxe aimed at my head with his shield. A moment later, Castille's lean, strong arms wrapped around my waist and hoisted me in the air.

"Isla, cover us!"

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

A familiar fog filled the alley, hiding Nostrand Del and his stone men’s bodies from view but leaving the glow of their red eyes.

Over the heavy footfalls of my party, a metallic voice rang out.

"So much will. Yes, you must be of my line. Do not think you can escape this easily, child of my blood."

"Dugan?"

"On it."

The short man threw down a length of rope wrapped around his waist. The same rope that the first stone man tore during Castille's climb down. The hemp fibres writhed to life, tangling the legs of the advancing stone men. It would buy us time—enough time to get away.

# # #

We ran for the platform. I bounced up and down on Castille's shoulder. Facing down, I stared at the dirt, flashes of Castille's boot heels and Isla's worried face.

"Can you fix him?" Castille asked between heaves of breath.

Isla's face blanched.

"No! This is spoken High Song. I don't know what to do."

"You hear that, Jacob! You're stuck as a statue. We’ll keep you around as a coat rack."

"Ugh… Yuh," I said.

"Castille, this is serious!"

She laughed.

"Aye, I know, but let me laugh; it's how I cope."

"W-We're here!"

Castille slowed down to hike up the small hill to the platform room. She crossed the entrance, placing me face-up on the cool stone. My left arm was fixed forward, short sword in my hand, pointing at the dark shaft above. Tears pooled in my unblinking eyes.

This was my life now, trapped in the prison of my body.

Weak. Pathetic. Useless.

They should have left me to die.

No!

Shay. He could do it. He could fix me. There was hope. We just needed to make it out of this spirits-cursed cavern.

"Isla, what's wrong?" Castille asked.

"I inserted the missing crystal, but the platform isn't working!"

"Castille, more are coming," Dugan said.

She grunted.

"When it shits, it pores."

"I think you mean rains."

"Quiet! Let me think... Dugan!"

"Yeah."

"Pull down the rope. Let's do that trick again. Isla, get that platform working!"

They buzzed around me, their feet almost trampling my body. Castille and Dugan pulled down the rope ladder, our one lifeline to the surface. With nothing to do except watch, it gave me time to think and understand Castille’s gamble.

We were too tired to make the climb to the fifth floor. At least not before Nostrand Del and his stone men pulled us down. She put all our hopes on getting the platform working but there was another option.

Castille could have climbed the ladder while Dugan and Isla made a last stand to buy her time. She was the most suited for it; her lean, strong form was built for endurance. Warning Steeltown about Nostrand Del was more important than our survival. We were only three soldiers in this war. Yet, Castille was willing to sacrifice herself and Steeltown for us.

For me...

"I figured it out! Two of the other crystals are cracked."

"Can you fix it?"

"I think so!"

"Then hurry! Dugan, take the other door!"

Isla darted around me, muttering under her breath, kneeling out of my view. At the front of the room, metal and stone clashed.

"They got arrows," Dugan said.

"Isla!"

"Almost there!"

An arrow whizzed by on my left, cracking into the wall behind me. Another bounced off my short sword, skittering across the platform.

"I got it! Get on!"

The shaft lit up with the same pale white light as the underground sky. The square rings of glowing stone were evenly spaced along the shaft’s smooth surface.

THUMP! THUMP!

Castille and Dugan crashed beside me on the stone platform.

"Go! Go! Go!"

My stomach sank as the platform launched off the floor.

Beside me, Isla sighed.

"That was close."

"You did it! You could kiss you, girl!"

"Please don't."

"Hmph."

"Dugan? What's wrong?"

"We almost died."

He was right, and this was just the beginning. We had seen Nostrand Del in the stony flesh, and he had seen us. Something told me he wouldn't sit around and wait for us to come back with reinforcements.

"I know. For now, let’s regroup and fix this one."

Castille kicked my shin.

"You alright, Jacob?"

Isla's hand pressed against my forehead.

"Ohhh," I said.

"This is terrible. No wonder the Sanctifiers banned spoken High Song."

Spirits spare me. They only did that to keep the First Magic for themselves.

"UHH EM!"

"See, even Jacob agrees."

Castille sighed.

"We'll need to beg that Inquisitor for help. How much will it cost us, you think?"

"You mean cost him," Dugan said.

Isla shook her head.

"Only his dignity. The Inquisitor likes him."

"I don't think she likes anyone past their usefulness."

The platform jerked to an abrupt stop. The side of the wall opened like a yawning mouth to reveal Eric and Arwen on the top floor.

“What in the… Why are you coming out of ole pie face?”

"What happened to the dunk? What happened to Jacob?!" Arwen asked.

"We’ll explain on the way back," Castille said.

She glanced down at me and frowned.

"Arwen, I hope you brought a stretcher."