Chapter 13

  “What mage?” the first man replied, swallowing hard.

  I leaned down to the unconscious soldier, whose mouth was still half-full of pheasant, and grabbed a ring of keys from his belt.

  “Show me where he is, or you both die,” I said.

  While I waited for their answer, I dropped another piece of gold?—?my last one?—?and drained its matter away.

  “Hang on now,” the first man blurted.

  I continued my weave, casting the matter into a fireball that flared into existence and hovered before me, glowing brightly with an audible and intimidating hum. It would only last about three minutes before fizzling out, but I hoped that would be long enough.

  “Where is he?” I asked finally.

  Both men pointed down the stairs and stepped back as if to let me go.

  “Drop your swords,” I ordered, and they obeyed.

  Taking the jailer’s keys, I opened the nearest cell, and waved the single prisoner out. I gestured the soldiers inside. They shuffled into the cell, my fireball dancing between us like a rabid attack dog, buzzing aggressively.

  I locked the cell door and tossed the keys to the prisoner I’d just freed, then slid the sword and its scabbard onto my belt.

  I hadn’t used a well-made sword in years.

  As I moved toward the back stairs, the freed prisoner began freeing the others. I stepped down the stairs and heard a muffled explosion above, followed by distant shouting. My wall of air hadn’t lasted as long as I’d hoped. They must have used some kind of hybrid or steam-powered cannon to blast through it.

  Mysteries upon mysteries, I thought, wondering what technologies they would reveal next. This was Vale; I knew it wouldn’t be easy.

  I took the steps faster, my breath quickening and my heart pounding. I was sweating now, my side starting to hurt again.

  The stairwell was dark and tight, the steps slick with a mossy sheen, and the smell of mildew and rot grew heavier.

  The stairs opened up into a large stone-walled room, brightly lit by a half-dozen torches and well-appointed with multiple beds, chairs, and tables?—?obviously the jailer’s quarters. A fireplace burned in one corner, where a full pot of stew bubbled. There was no exit in sight, except for a single, large, black iron door set into a rock wall?—?bolted shut on the right side of the room.

  I moved across the room, unbolted the door, and swung it open, its iron hinges groaning. A blast of cold air hit me in the face as the door revealed a dark, yawning natural cavern. I pulled a torch from its socket on the wall and stepped inside. Somewhere lower down, I heard rushing water, perhaps from a small waterfall or an underground stream.

  A moan echoed from deep in the cavern.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Unnnggghh.”

  I walked forward, my staff pressed to the ground for balance, as I pointed the torch around, seeking the source of the sound.

  On the back wall of the cavern, the torchlight revealed chains mounted directly into the rock at various intervals. I splashed light around the room until I saw a body strung up with arms spread wide, chained to the wall, legs standing shakily on the slippery, mossy rock. The body raised its head toward my light, both drawn to it and repelled by it as its eyes squinted against the brightness.

  It was a man.

  I moved to him quickly. He wore only a breechcloth, his shaggy dark hair falling in messy strands. His body was bruised and bloody all over?—?he’d been beaten repeatedly over the past week. I took his sweaty chin in my gloved hand.

  “What is your name?”

  His eyes focused on me for a moment before squinting shut again against the light. He had Dirk’s look about him.

  “I’m… I’m…” the man trailed off, his head lolling. “Thirsty.”

  “Yes, yes, but what’s your name?”

  “Bend. Name’s Bend,” he mumbled. “Water… please.”

  With two small blasts from the head of my staff, the chains on Bend’s wrists shattered, and he sagged into my arms. I sat him down on a rock and drew my cup from my pouch, grabbing a small stone from the cavern floor. With a swift motion, I vanished the rock.

  Bend’s eyes widened.

  “Water spellcast,” he whispered, watching as the cup filled. After a brief pause, he looked up at me, his eyes widening further. “You’re… a mage? You trained… in The Way?”

  I nodded and put the cup to his lips. He drank greedily until it was empty, then looked up at me.

  “How did you get here? Who are you?” he asked, gathering his thoughts.

  “Later,” I replied. “Is there a way out of here?”

  “I think so. The stream goes out?—?there’s a path that follows it.”

  “Where does it lead?” I asked, looking toward a tunneled corner of the cavern, from which the sounds of water came. I saw a steep incline going deeper into the rock. It wouldn’t be an easy hike for a man who’d been chained for three weeks.

  “I don’t know,” Bend admitted. “It might lead to their water source. But sometimes, I’ve seen them bring in supplies from that direction. So, it must lead somewhere.”

  I paused, turning the problem over in my mind.

  “You’ll need clothes, boots, a cloak. Stay here,” I said.

  Back in the jailer’s quarters, five prisoners were dressing in the jailers’ clothes and arming themselves. They might actually be useful in the next ten minutes.

  The first prisoner I’d freed, a man with knotted hair, met my gaze. His eyes, though weathered, burned with wild excitement.

  “They’re coming,” he said.

  Above, I heard commotion growing closer. The guards in the dungeon’s cells were shouting to their fellows above. Maybe I ought to have downed them both.

  From a nearby chest, I grabbed a cloak, a pair of pants, and some old leather boots, then returned to Bend. The five former prisoners followed me into the cavern.

  As Bend dressed, moving slowly, I studied the incline toward the underground stream, a plan forming in my mind. I checked my stores. No more gemstones, but I still had the diamond, a gold bracelet, and some pieces of iron, steel, and copper coins. I turned to the prisoners.

  “If we’re going to get out of here alive, I need your help,” I said. “Understand?”’

  They nodded.

  I quickly drained a piece of steel of its matter.

  “Bend, grab my staff,” I said.

  He grasped it with bloodied fingers, using it hold himself up. I wove a healing spell and released it into him through the staff. While I never studied healing in the Way, I could perform a minor healing spell that might help him a little—it wouldn't be anywhere as powerful as a spell from a true healer, but it would have to do. Too bad healing spells couldn't be performed on yourself—or I could take the edge off the pain in my side.

  Either way, the immediate thrill from using so much magic, came again, deeper inside me this time, a buzzing behind my eyes.

  Bend’s eyes lit up, his cuts slowly sealed, and I could see some of his strength started to return.

  “Who… are you?” Bend whispered.

  “The better question is, why am I here?” I replied.

  “Why?”

  “I was looking for you, Bend,” I said quickly. “For others like me. Too many mages are gone. But first, we must get out alive. You with me?”

  He nodded slowly, looking at me through swollen eyes. I looked back at the cavern entrance.

  “Close the door,” I ordered. The last prisoner slammed it shut.

  “What are you going to do?” Bend asked.

  “I’m going to collapse this cavern,” I replied.