23 – The Words Are Fleeting

“He stole your mana-well! That little bastard!” Grace clenched her fists, her face red, her eyes ablaze. Ward couldn’t spare her any attention; the gate had opened, and another hulking lizard-man dove toward him. He cranked off one, two, three rounds, and he was pretty sure they all hit, but whatever luck had sent his bullets into the first lizard warrior’s vital organs wasn’t with him this time; the great, bloody, scaled creature barreled into him, knocking him to the ground. It ripped both sets of claws down the front of his armored shirt. The swipe pulled rings of metal from his chest, sending them tinkling over the stone floor, and Ward slid backward on his butt.

He was dazed by the blow, the wind knocked from his lungs. Even so, he got his arms up between himself and the lizard-man’s frenzied follow-up attacks, blocking much of the damage with the shirt’s thick leather and ring-covered sleeves. He managed to pull a knee back and plant his foot against his attacker’s waist, shoving with all his might. As the lizard man stumbled back, Ward lifted his bloody fist, still clutching his trusty pistol, and fired two more rounds into the monster. This time, it fell, blood rapidly pumping out of at least one of the bullet holes, making a wide pool that merged with the coagulated puddle of its kin.

Grace jumped in front of his face, trying to get his attention. “Your friend is fighting two of them!”

Ward got to his feet, his body vibrating with adrenaline as he hurried toward the barrier between his section and Haley’s. Haley was ducking and backstepping, trying to avoid the swipes of two hulking lizard-men. One of them was pitch black with orange spots, and Ward didn’t like the look of his hooked claws as they dripped something caustic onto the stone floor. Haley was already bleeding from painful-looking gashes on her left shoulder, but the other lizard man, a standard green variety, was limping around on a leg that looked near useless. Ward fired off his last round, putting one right into the green guy’s lower back.

As the lizard-man coughed up a gout of blood and stumbled forward, Ward flicked open his gun’s cylinder, shook out the empty brass, and started loading up his last four bullets. Haley ducked a swipe from the Gila monster-looking lizard-man, then swept the green one’s leg, sending it to the floor. Ward slid his bullets into their chambers, flicked his wrist to close it up, then pulled the hammer back, taking aim. Haley’s back was to him, the lizard on the other side of her, so he held his fire, waiting.

Haley’s fists weren’t making the air shimmer anymore; she’d used up her charge of magical heat. That aside, she was a good fighter. She kept slipping those swipes and bites, barely moving but making the hulking brute waste a lot of energy and effort with each attempt. She darted to the left, circling her opponent, and Ward got ready to fire. Just then, the green one, motionless all this time, decided it wasn’t done trying to kill her. It flopped from its stomach to its side and lashed out with its arm, catching Haley’s heel. The black and orange lizard dove at her, and Ward pulled the trigger.

Gila monster’s claws hooked into Haley’s thigh, Ward’s bullet tore through its neck, and they both fell to the ground. The thing twitched and croaked, but blood was gushing from its neck like a faucet, so it didn’t get anywhere. The green one started to get up, so Ward spent another precious bullet, finishing him off. “That’s all of ‘em; they’re dead! Get in the cage, Haley!” Ward started to follow his own advice, running for the cage, arching an eyebrow in amusement when he saw Grace already there.

“Ward!” Haley’s voice was strained, thready, and weak.

“Yeah? Hurry!”

“I can’t. I can’t move. The . . . thing. It had poisoned claws. I can’t move my body.”

“Ah, dammit!” Ward punched the copper elevator wall with a resounding clang. They only had a minute or so before the thing closed up.

Grace stepped forward, and Ward could see she was debating whether she should speak or not. “Ward, I know I’m going to regret saying this, but I think I can help you say the words the thief used. You might survive it now that you’ve been through that refinement.”

“What? Why would I—” Belatedly, he connected the dots. He could use the magic words to get over the copper line to Haley. He gave Grace an appreciative nod. He was impressed; not long ago, he would have bet she’d encourage him to leave the girl behind. “Let’s do it.”

“Get your healing potion ready—the words might wound you badly.” Her warning finally drove home a point that Ward had let roll off his brain a few times without fully registering: the words of power were dangerous to use, especially for people whose “vessels” weren’t up to the task. Nodding, he whirled around, grabbed his pack, stuffed his hand into the side pocket where he’d left the potion, and pulled it out. As he shrugged into the straps, Grace said, “Now, face Haley and carefully repeat after me. Say it with authority.” Ward nodded again, and Grace spoke slowly and very clearly, enunciating every syllable, “Thravik-thragh.”

Ward cleared his throat and spoke, trying to hurry so they didn’t miss the elevator again, “Thravik-thragh!” Though he said the words like any others, they ground out of his throat like he was coughing up a ball of sandpaper. They flew from his lips like things alive, crashing and echoing off the stone walls, bouncing off the copper elevator like a tin can full of firecrackers.

Ward felt a cold wave go through his body, felt himself stretch to bursting, saw his vision go red as blood vessels exploded in his eyes, and then everything went gray and red. He spun through the air, flipping and twirling and spinning toward Haley, toward the spot he’d been staring at, and when he stopped moving, he fell to the ground, coughing and hacking out chunks of bloody, torn flesh.

“Drink the potion, idiot!” Grace screamed in his ear. Ward, hands shaking like he’d been working a jackhammer all day, ripped the cork out of the little potion. He struggled at first, having a hard time seeing what he was doing with all the blood in his eyes, but he got it, and then he slammed the shot of liquid into his mouth and gulped it down. It was sweet and tart, and as it coursed down his throat, warmth exploded through his body, and he instantly felt better. His hands stopped shaking, his vision cleared, and he felt a surge of strength. With the healing energy came clarity of thought and a focus on action. Ward leaped to his feet, stooped to scoop Haley into his arms, and charged for the elevator.

He got inside with a dozen seconds to spare, and when the cage rattled closed, he let out a whoop. “Hell, yes!”

“My pack,” Haley groaned, still cradled in Ward’s arms. He looked down at her and saw her eyes rolling to the side, staring at her forlorn backpack as the elevator began to click-clack its way upward.

“Sorry about that! Shit!”

“It’s okay. Thanks for getting me. How?” Her voice was shaky and hoarse, and Ward could feel her trembling with shivers. He hoped the poison that had paralyzed her wasn’t going to make her sick, too.

“I used that little jerk’s words of power! I frickin turned into smoke!” Ward practically crowed the announcement; he was pumped with the success of his first attempt at magic.

“No, you didn’t,” Grace laughed, suddenly standing between him and the cage door. “You sprayed through the air like a splash of blood. It was . . . disgusting.”

“Huh?”

“It probably has something to do with your mastery of those words. I mean, like, your total lack of it. I’m not sure how it works, but I know wizards have to spend a lot of time mastering the words to use them correctly. Not to mention, you almost killed yourself; you had enough mana, but your body wasn’t ready for that spell.”

Ward realized Haley had been muttering something softly, but he’d missed most of it while Grace spoke, “. . . hope we can catch him.”

Ward didn’t need help figuring out who she meant. “Me too, Haley. I hope we catch that little rat, too.” He sighed, leaning back against the cage wall as it continued its slow climb toward the ceiling. Haley’s shivering hadn’t stopped, and every now and then, she’d shudder violently in his arms. When he looked at her face, her skin was wan and damp with perspiration, and though her eyes were closed, she didn’t seem to be resting peacefully. He saw Grace peering closely at her, too. “You think she’ll be all right?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen many fevers in my life, and this looks like a bad one. If we were back on modern-day Earth, I’d say to take her to an emergency room. Too bad you left her backpack behind. Some of that healing salve on those infected claw marks might help.” While she spoke, the lighting changed, and Ward realized they’d passed through the ceiling and into a new space. It was much darker, and he could only see about five feet beyond the cage door.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“This is where Nevkin ditched us.” Peering into the shadows, all he could see was a smooth slate floor. The rectangular tiles were pale and fitted together so closely that no grout or mortar was evident. The elevator continued to rise, and as more and more of it lifted into the new room, Ward’s view expanded until he saw a full ten feet beyond the cage door. The floor looked the same other than some big, dark splotches that appeared to be dried blood.

Ward braced himself, wondering if he should set Haley down, but as the elevator floor drew level with the tiles, it surprised him by continuing to rise. Soon, they were ten feet up, and Ward’s view of the new room was gone—nothing but blackness surrounded the metal cage as it continued to ratchet upward. Grace’s words echoed his thoughts: "We’re going past the elevator’s staging area. I wonder if that little thief boned himself by teleporting into that room. What if it’s filled with lizard men?”

“You know, I don’t generally wish horrible fates on people, especially kids, but that sounds almost poetic.”

Grace sighed. “He’s not a kid. He’s probably in his twenties.”

“Well, to me, he seemed like a kid, all right?” Haley shivered again, violently, and Ward pulled her a little tighter to his chest. “Hang in there, kiddo.”

Grace groaned. “Again, with the kid business—”

“You’re the one who keeps calling me ‘old man.’ Why are you surprised?” When Grace didn’t reply, Ward shifted, leaning a shoulder against the cool metal wall of the elevator. “My arms are getting tired. Too bad there’s not a bench or chair or something in here. I don’t want to set her on the floor.”

“Wow. Good thing she’s out of it; wouldn’t want the damsel to know her hero was whining about his tired arms as he held her aloft—”

“Glad you haven’t lost your witty sense of banter.” Ward craned his neck, trying to peer up through the bars of the cage door. “Can’t see shit. Feels like we’re going pretty high, though.”

“Maybe. Could be an optical illusion. Maybe the elevator is just ten feet above the floor, holding still while those gears click against the spinning copper pillar.”

“Nah, that wouldn’t make any sense.”

“Who says it needs to make sense?” When Ward didn’t respond but continued staring into the darkness through the copper bars, she cleared her throat, almost sounding nervous. “You know, I might have sounded mocking when I said you didn’t turn into smoke or whatever, but it’s kind of a miracle that you pulled that spell off on your first try.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Christina inherited a book with one of the words that supposedly lets you plant ideas in the heads of unsuspecting people. As I told you, she had some talent, and despite the almost nonexistence of mana on Earth, she’d managed to gather enough that she was trying to use the word. Despite a hundred attempts and just as many migraines and bloody noses, she never got it right.”

“What was the word?” Ward was eager to try to add another to his repertoire.

“That’s the thing . . .” Grace frowned and scratched her head. “I heard her try to say it all those times. I saw it written on the pages of her grandfather’s journal. Despite that, I can’t, for the life of me, remember anything about it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure if it’s just my nature or what, but—Ward, I can’t even remember the words you just used.”

“You can’t?” Ward frowned because, as she confessed her lapse of memory, he tried to think of the words and came up blank. “What the hell? Neither can I!”

“Maybe that’s part of mastering the words—learning how to memorize them. Maybe that’s why grimoires are a thing. Maybe they can’t be remembered. I vaguely recall reading something along the lines of ‘the words are fleeting.’ I’m sorry I don’t know more, but at least we held onto Nevkin’s words long enough to escape.”

Ward closed his eyes and groaned. With his hands occupied holding Haley, he found an outlet to his frustration by banging his forehead against the cold metal bars of the cage door—not hard, just enough to rattle them and give him some sense of release. “I know that spell messed me up, but it was so damn cool. I kind of hoped I’d be able to practice it somehow. How the hell did that little weasel pull it off without bleeding his guts out?”

“I don’t know. I guess that artifact, the tongue, did all the work. Well, that and the mana-well you gave him.”

“I didn’t give—” Ward groaned and banged his forehead against the bar a little harder. “Screw it. I guess I did. What a frickin’ dumbass!”

“Don’t beat yourself up. Come on, Ward, you’re worrying me. You’re usually pretty upbeat.”

“Eh, don’t worry. I’m just annoyed. You know, having someone steal from you is a pretty shitty feeling. Reminds of when I used to rent an apartment in Queen Anne. Didn’t have a garage parking spot, and my car got broken into regularly. Got to the point I stopped locking the doors, hoping the thieving bastards would at least stop smashing the window. Well, that’s beside the point. The point I’m trying to get at is that the first time, it really pissed me off.”

“I’ve had hosts who were robbed. I know how violated it makes people feel—” Grace stopped short and looked up through the bars. “Light!” Ward followed her gaze and saw she was right, which made him wonder if he’d noticed the light first but hadn’t registered it consciously. He decided that had to be it; hadn’t Grace said she couldn’t see what he didn’t see? He watched as the circle of soft yellow light grew larger and larger, and then the top of the elevator cage passed through an opening, and a bright, warm, new space opened up outside the cage door.

It was the first room in the dungeon where Ward could see the source of illumination—gas lamps hung from wood-paneled walls, shedding their yellow-orange light onto a rich red carpet and plush, overstuffed leather couches. Ward was interrupted from further visual explorations as the elevator lurched to a stop, and the copper cage door rattled open. He stepped out, cautiously looking around, half expecting to be jumped by another frog or lizard-man. No such violence awaited, though, and as he turned in a slow circle, all he saw were more wooden walls, cozy-looking chairs and couches, and, on the other side of the elevator, a copper chest twice the size of the ones he and his companions had found earlier.

Still carrying Haley, Ward walked toward it and noted a plaque on the wall behind it. It took him a minute to realize it, but it finally registered to him that the chest and plaque were the first copper things in the entire catacombs that weren’t tarnished; they were burnished to a glossy sheen that warmly reflected the lamp light. When he read the plaque, he felt his usual good mood returning as a grin revealed his teeth. As if he needed the help, Grace read it aloud, “Rest and enjoy your reward, victors.”

“Hell yeah! We’re done?” Ward spun around in a circle, trying to see how he and Haley were supposed to leave. “Where’s the door, then?”

“Well, you haven’t rested or enjoyed your reward yet. Maybe something will open when you do.”

Ward stepped to the nearest couch and gently deposited Haley into its embrace. He touched her forehead and winced when he felt the heat. He slid his backpack off his shoulders as Grace called out, “There’s a basket here filled with fruit and drinks.” Ward’s mouth began to salivate at the thought, and he looked over at her. She was standing next to a small table, and sure enough, a wicker basket sat atop it. Shiny purple-red fruits were piled inside around a couple of bottles that looked like they might be full of wine. Ward swallowed, afraid he’d start drooling if he weren’t careful.

He snatched up one of the fruits, about the size of an overlarge plum, and when he bit into it, the similarity continued; it tasted like a ripe, perfect plum. Ward sucked at the juice and got to work methodically chewing every ounce of meat off the pit. “Haha! Plums inside a mysterious catacomb in a distant world. What are the odds?”

“What are the odds people look like humans all over the universe?”

“Huh? Seriously?”

“Well, some of the travel journals one of my hosts found indicated as much. It’s almost like you all originated in a similar place and propagated through the worlds somehow. Maybe these plums are similar.”

“Whatever. They’re delicious.” Ward picked up one of the big, dark green bottles and yanked the cork out with his teeth. He took a long, deep sniff of the contents, and his grin widened. “Smells like wine!”

“Careful—” Grace started to say, but too late; Ward took a long, deep pull from the bottle, swallowing a gulp of the smooth, refreshing liquid.

“That’s either damn good wine, or I’m just so thirsty anything would be good.” He turned, bottle in one hand and two plums in the other, and returned to the couch where Haley lay, shivering and feverish. “Gonna try to get her to drink a little.” He pulled the cushion from another couch, propped it under her head, and then tipped the bottle to her lips. “Come on, kid. Drink some of this. It’s not like normal wine—it’s refreshing.” She seemed to be completely insensate, but when he tilted the bottle, letting a thin trickle of the fluid pour between her lips, her reflexes took over, and she swallowed. “Good!” He continued delivering small sips to her while he munched on another plum.

Grace watched for a few minutes, then crossed her arms and walked around the end of the couch. “I wonder if you should open this chest.” Ward looked at her, at the big copper chest, and then at the plaque again.

“It says to rest, right? I don’t think it’s going to disappear.” He yawned, then took another long drink from the green bottle. “I’m beat, and I think we should see if Haley wakes up before we open it.”

Grace unfolded her arms and sat on the chest, tsking her tongue. “Seriously? What if someone else gets delivered to this room? What if it does disappear? Don’t you trust yourself to share with Haley?” Ward looked at Haley and was heartened to see some color in her cheeks and that her shivers had subsided. He felt her forehead, and it felt noticeably cooler.

“I think she’s getting better.” He stood up, set the bottle on a side table, and ate his third plum. “If you’re going to be that way, all right, let’s open the damn thing.”