Chapter 12

  The stairs led down what seemed like four levels, taking me deep below the surface, before I saw the first door.

  The stairs kept going down.

  I stopped and opened the door anyway, cracking it slightly to peer inside a dark, cobwebbed hallway leading into a black maw. Unsure what I would find, I stepped past the door to explore. Quickly, I winked several pieces of granite into nothingness and wove their matter into small lights that I attached to the walls of the hallway as I went.

  Several doors eventually appeared on either side of the hallway, and in checking them I found supplies: chests of clothing, bedding, foodstuffs, uniforms, and barrels of some kind of mead or wine.

  This was not a dungeon. I made a quick search of the rest of the floor?—?all storage?—?then ran back to the stairwell, expecting to see soldiers coming down at any moment.

  I continued down the stairs quickly. I threw up small lights along the way as the stairwell dove deeper into the mountain. After walking down another four flights of stairs, a vague glow appeared from below.

  Could this be the bottom?

  I took each step slowly and quietly, keeping my staff up before me as a defensive measure. If this was the dungeon, I expected a jailer of some kind to appear at any moment.

  Turning the corner, I saw the stairs end and open into another dark hallway, this one lit by torches. I stepped to the bottom, moved close to the opening, leaning my head forward. The hallway led to a dark, cobwebbed chamber.

  I spied barred cells on both sides of the chamber, and the stench of sweat, blood, and defecation hung heavy in the air. So far, it looked like most dungeons I’d seen in my travels. Some dungeons were packed full of bandits or beggars, while others sat dusty and empty. This dungeon seemed to be in working order, and I saw bodies in the cells, though not nearly as many as I’d expected.

  As I leaned further around the stone doorframe, I saw a table and chairs midway down the hallway, in between the row of barred cells on both sides of the space. A single soldier occupied one of the chairs, and he seemed too busy with a leg of pheasant to notice me. Clearly, no one had alerted the lower levels of my presence yet.

  I leaned back into the stairwell and drew a small sliver of gemstone from my belt. I wove it away and drew on its matter to perform a simple spell that I hoped would be powerful enough to startle the single soldier.

  Weave complete, I stepped around the corner and strode into the dungeon. I threw my arm forward, took several long strides, and then drew my arms back again, with force.

  A massive eruption of light with an accompanying “thud” hammered into the air at the moment the soldier looked up and saw me, his mouth full of pheasant. I closed my eyes precisely as I loosed the spell, shielding them from the flash-bang effect, meant to startle enemies with both force and light. I opened my eyes to see the soldier blinded and knocked off his chair, now groping awkwardly and clawing the air.

  I took three quick steps and drove the end of my staff into his temple, dropping him to the ground, unconscious.

  All around, faces and eyes peered from behind the bars. Before I could search the cells, a sound came to my ears. I heard footsteps thudding toward me. Had the soldiers already breached the wall of air above?

  I ran back to the stairwell, but the sound was coming from a different direction. I stepped back into the dungeon itself and moved toward the sound. The footsteps grew louder as I moved toward the back of the dungeon itself. I caught sight of another set of stairs at the far end of the hallway behind a few moldering bales of hay.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  I looked down the stairway, and saw nothing, but heard the sounds of someone thudding up the stairs growing louder. Someone was coming, likely more than one person by the sound of it.

  I didn’t have time to consider the possibility that an entire regiment may be coming for me, perhaps having entered the prison from outside.

  Quickly, I readied myself for whoever was coming. I vanished another shard of gemstone, my last one, and drew a rune in the air in front of the stairwell, in the place where the first soldier would step into this room.

  Then I went through the pockets and pouches of the fallen guard and came up with a handful of small coins, likely copper. Not powerful, but matter is matter, and I couldn’t be choosy now. Almost before I could pull my hands from the fallen guard’s pockets, a man barreled up the last of the stairs, his sword drawn before him, and he growled when he saw me bending over the jailer rifling through his pockets.

  I took several steps back.

  In a “whoosh” he moved through my air rune and his entire body burst into flames, his growls turning to guttural screams. He stumbled into the hay bales, which didn’t help, and collapsed to the ground, the flames burning hotter as they caught the hay bales on fire.

  While he screamed, a second man stepped into the dungeon, leaped over his comrade and advanced with his sword. I jabbed at him with my staff to keep him back while spending a gold piece and draining its matter into the air. Then I wove a new spell.

  The soldier saw my weaves. “Mage, are ye?” he growled, dirty teeth smiling. “Mages don’t last long ‘n Vale.”

  With lightning quickness, he brought his sword down toward my head, but he missed as I stumbled back. On his follow through, I noticed his sword was a rare make, sparkling with hints of gemstones and gold banding along the hilt. I knew fine craftsmanship when I saw it, and I was already toying with the enchantments I could embed within the sword.

  First things first.

  The soldier shuffled forward again, swinging his sword around in an arc toward my stomach, forcing me back again, so far that I tripped over the chair and table behind me and sprawled to the ground.

  The soldier took my fall as his opportunity to leap above me, bringing his sword back, preparing to swing down toward my face.

  I wheeled my staff around to block just in time, and used the matter from the gold piece, unleashing a bolt of energy at the soldier’s midsection, nearly slicing him in half as he fell toward me, his face registering surprise and shock as he fell, bleeding and dying.

  I felt a simultaneous thrill of buzzing energy as I cast the spell, stronger than before. I realized that I hadn't used this much magic in such a short span of time in years, and the familiar shot of energy was getting stronger with every spell cast.

  I stood up slowly, getting out from under the body, covered in the man’s blood, my staff in one hand. With my other hand, I took up his sword and inspected it momentarily.

  Excellent craftsmanship indeed.

  As I admired the sword, two more soldiers stepped up the stairs and into the dungeon. The first soldier’s face fell when he saw three colleagues in various fallen states, one nearly split in half, another collapsed to the ground, and the third still burning in the corner.

  His mouth opened when he saw me. I must have looked a sight.

  I still wore my wide-brimmed black hat, long dark overcoat, both splashed with blood, carrying two weapons before me, my face wreathed in shadows. Despite how I must have looked, my side pulsed with the beat of my heart. It was probably slick with blood inside the wrappings; however, by this time adrenaline also coursed through my body, and I felt little pain.

  As both soldiers stepped into the dungeon, they exchange looks of fear and shock. They must be used to fighting mages in this city, but perhaps they weren’t used to facing sophisticated mages with a lifetime of experience fighting. The soldiers of Vale expected to be in charge, they were usually feared and obeyed.

  “Listen, you…” the first man began.

  I cocked my head to the side, like a hound staring curiously at a meal.

  “We don’t want no trouble with yer sort?—?” he continued.

  While he talked, I dropped a piece of granite and wove it’s matter away. He watched me as I did, his eyes widening as the small rock disappeared.

  “Whatcha doin now?” he cried out, taking a stumbling step back.

  I wove the matter into a small bulb of light and threw the bulb to a spot on the ceiling above their heads. Both men ducked in a panic, one skittering into a corner.

  “I just want to see you better is all,” I replied with a crooked grin.

  “We don’ want no trouble,” said the man in the corner. “Just take what ya want and go!”

  “I want the mage,” I said.