Chapter 75 – Overdue Books
Several hours later, I had a collection of four books and six scrolls in my new bag (which, as it happens, was also much nicer than my old bag). I couldn’t read any of them, but the Wills convinced me they were valuable, and that at least two pertained to prophecies relevant to the fel witch and her downfall. I scrutinized each of them with the four of knaves that gave me at least general impressions. One was a book with the wane dragons on the cover filled with diagrams of prophetic star-signs and presumably their adjoining meanings. Another was a prediction of destructive calamities (most of which likely already happened), the third was a guide to advanced arcana that I couldn’t actually cast, and the last was a reference to something called, as far as I could tell, the Law of the Deep, which had illustrations that closely matched descriptions of some of Bethane’s horrors.
I took a break to nap for a few hours and regain my strength, only to be woken once by Annalisa shadowboxing nearby with little Hff Hff breaths as she jabbed invisible enemies, and once when she opened a can of tinned rations by banging it against the banister, despite the perfectly good can opener in the bag that she’d seen me using. She looked at me with innocent eyes. “Water level is rising,” she said.
I peered over the edge, and sure enough if was almost a hand’s span deep. “Must be coming in from somewhere new.”
Bang, bang, bang
“Do you think it’s our fault?”
I groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over my head. “When is it not?”
When I awoke naturally, ready to continue, the devilborn had once again made herself scarce. How big was this complex that she was still exploring it? No matter. I set to task on my own breakfast of tinned fish and some biscuits. Eating out of a can wasn’t exactly fun, either. It somehow managed to be even less palatable than Jacco’s cooking at the Mop n’ Bucket. I washed it down with the last of the Ivory Red and pulled out my deck.
I thumbed through the books again as I considered what to ask the Wills next. But was surprised by the voice of Annalisa in my mind.
“Darcent! I found the sea!”
I stopped. I held out two fingers and the four of knaves snapped to them. “You found what?”
“The sea! It’s how the water’s getting in. There’s a pool down here near the armory and I’m pretty sure it connects to the open ocean through a tunnel. There’s fish in it.”
“Dragons above, you didn’t try to swim it, did you?”
Annalisa sent a pulse of annoyance through the link. “I’m too heavy to swim. Besides, there’s someone else here.”
A chill ran down my spine. Celethia had said several new sea accesses had been opening up, and adventurers were trying to plug them just as fast. I snapped the book shut, stuffing it back in my bag. “What?”
Annalisa sent me a mental image. It was different from the one Mithra had sent me back at the Mop. Instead of an entire mental painting in sharp detail, most of it was fuzzy around the edges, or warped where her limited attention struggled to fill in details. But there was enough to get the point across. In a different part of the college, the dust had been disturbed by repeated transits. Bare humanoid feet with wide, webbed toes, long, sinewy tracks, and deep impact points cut trails through the dust.
“I’m going to try to get a peek for you.”
“No! Annalisa, get back here. We’re leaving. Right now.”
No response came through the link. I pulled out our two remaining spell scrolls, verifying the enchantments were still good before stuffing them under my jerkin.
“Anna!”
“Umm… bit of a problem, boss.”
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
I stopped as the walls rumbled and fresh dust fell down from the ceiling.
“They’ve got a mage with them.”
No, no, no. This was not happening. A bastion of ancient Soul Seeker secrets, and someone else managed to find it less than a day after us! I cursed myself and the cards. All those readings, and I hadn’t ever thought to ask if we were actually safe. Those tunnels weren’t accidents, they were looking for something. Fates portend! The ill luck of this!
Or, you beat them to their goal by mere hours, a little voice countered.
It wasn’t my own thoughts. That voice had come from the dragons in my deck, as clear and concise as if someone had stood at my side and whispered it into my ear. Framed like that, it seemed the gods had perhaps done us a boon. Not that I’m about to start thanking the Loom Mistress for her twisted weavings. I growled, stuffing the rest of the supplies in the bag. Maybe I wasn’t ready to give this place up without a fight, anymore. But that didn’t mean we shouldn’t have our exit strategy ready. I shouldered the pack and then stopped. I had no idea where Annalisa had gone. I said as much through the four of knaves.
Her response was to send me an incomprehensible mental map tracking her progress that I immediately forgot the instant the image faded. But it told me two things: that Annalisa was somewhere west of me, and Annalisa had a good idea of where she was and how to get back. Thank the gods for her cartographer father.
Another blast shook the balcony, and the glow of the ceiling fresco dimmed for a moment. That one was closer. I headed to the west end of the wing. I knew from my own brief explorations which of the fourteen doors in the wing led to private study chambers or ancient privies, and which ones led away into the rest of the college. I cursed to myself. We should have taken measures to secure this place—set wards. Learned wards, even. If we made it out of here, I resolved to learn to make some traps with actual bite. The towers in my deck agreed.
I was about to open the door leading to the spiral stairs when it slammed open. Two Mayazians stared at me, wide-eyed and mouths open. They were bare-chested, covered in their ritual scars with the symbols that twisted the eye. Even without their greatcoats and tall hats, I’d recognize them anywhere. I called the five of knaves to rob their alacrity, and then I was between them, slashing left and right with the Mayazian knife that I’d taken off their pal in the middle city arena. Red blood spread over sallow, white meat, and the two sharks dropped.
I turned at movement, blade ready, and Annalisa almost bowled me over and dashed past me.
“DARCENTSHESGOTAKNIFETHATGOESAROUNDCORNERSHELP!”
“What?” I asked, just as a hint of silver flashed by my nose. On instinct and borrowed speed, I reached out and snatched the hilt of a dagger that was flying through the air towards Annalisa. I didn’t even have time to register what a dangerous and insanely unbelievable move I’d just managed before the blade yanked me off my feet and dragged me across the hard, dusty floor of the library.
“Woah!” I said, dropping the Mayazian knife and wrapping my other hand around the hilt. It fought me, jerking toward Annalisa, who turned and watched the display, more incredulous than afraid.
“Did you just catch that?”
The knife careened left and right, trying to break free of my grip like a fish on a line. Its struggles brought us close to one of the shelves, and I wrenched it around, burying the tip in the old, rotted wood and holding it pressed to the planks. After a moment, it stopped struggling and stilled in my hand. I got a moment to examine it, and it was a masterwork double-sided dagger with a nautical motif, an acid-etched tentacle pattern on the blade, and a handle cast to resemble a cuttlefish with a large, closed eye on the cross-guard. Clearly magical. But who would use such a…
“I’ll have that back now,” said a feminine voice.
I looked up, and immediately wished I hadn’t.
Two Bitterdeep lamias flanked a—well, I think she used to be a woman. Now she was half something else. Something deep. Coral-like growths covered the right half of her face, and underneath on the side of her neck, a second, beaked mouth sprouted next to a pair of wiggling tentacles. Behind her, a familiar figure stood: the Mayazian adventurer we’d dropped through the floor at the middle city. He stepped forward and drew his sword as I scrambled back to my feet beside Annalisa. A shark grin split his face when he spotted me.
“Bitterdepths. That’s the crust-damned Barrowdown kid, Maza.”
The witch, Maza, tilted her head at me. “Mother wants him alive, yes, Darza?”
“If convenient,” said Darza, grinning even wider, if that were possible. I’m sure he’d been relishing the idea of balancing the score after we cost the Mayaz the fight in the middle city. “On my truth: the one thing this kid ain’t, is convenient.”
“You have no idea,” I said, flipping the cuttlefish dagger in my hand. It had a good weight and balance to it, and the light of the fresco glinted off a keen edge that already swam with an inky, killing intent. “This thing would look good in a shark-skin sheathe.”
Maza scowled and worked her hands in a fluid arcane gesture. “Boys. Your petty vendettas don’t concern me. We came with purpose, Darza. Remember it. Leave them to the appetites of the abyss.”
I thought that threat a metaphor until Darza stepped to the side. A hulking form forced its way through the doors behind him, uncurling into a crusted mass of spines, pincers, and needle-pointed legs. Small eyes at the end of short stalks glared at us from under a horned hood of bony shell. It chirped at us and snapped claws longer than my arm.
“Oh,” said Annalisa. “Biiiig crusty.”