Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen (33 page)

BOOK: Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen
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Hanner sniffed bitterly as he hefted Alder up. “I notice whenever you need heavy lifting done you always make the men do it. How come you don’t ask one of the skirts to do it?”

Captain Evere rolled the black orbs in his eye-sockets. “Okay, fine, Margaret, take his legs.”

Margaret pushed her glasses up her nose indignantly. “Hey, why should I have to? It’s not like Hanner can summon the winds.”

“Ugh, I’m on a boat full of children,” Mina complained, grabbing Alder by the legs. “
I'll
take him.”

Captain Evere shot Hanner a sharp glance as he and Mina carried Alder down the hallway towards the dry dock.

“Sorry,” Hanner apologized. “I just get grumpy during my time of the month.”

As they carried Alder out across the dry dock and through the inner door, Dr. Griffin attended to him as best he could.

“Okay, I’m going to give this water to you,” Dr. Griffin said, holding up a small vial.

“Is it magic?” Alder wheezed.

“It is very special. If you drink it, you will live until you die.”

Alder thought for a moment. “How is that different from any other water?”

“Grots,” Dr. Griffin swore, putting the vial away. “I was hoping to induce a placebo effect.”

Dropping down to the floor of the dry dock, they made their way through the opened inner gate, past the place where the void barrier had stood. There they found the Dreadnaught with Athel climbing aboard. “Everything okay with Alder?” She asked when she saw them coming.

“Just twisted my ankle, I'll be fine,” Alder called out. When the others moved to correct him, he asked for their discretion with his eyes.

* * *

Somewhere deep beneath the mountain, Bunni wiggled herself out of a pipe and poked her head around the corner. Before her was a widened tunnel. The far end waved from the rising heat. Lengths of chain criss-crossed in and out of the tunnel through smaller openings.

“I am so lost.”

Bunni pulled out the crystal she had stolen and tucked it under her arm. Looking up, she saw another square heating vent cut into the stone. “Was that the one I used before? All these dumb things look the same.”

Bunni pretended to spit in each hand and jumped up, grabbing hold of one of the chains. Swinging back and forth, she began to climb, but the crystal slipped out from underneath her arm. Tumbling end over end, it collided with one of the heavier chains and cracked, spilling out a few droplets of black tar.

“Oh no!” she gasped as she swung from side to side.

The heavy chain hissed and twisted where droplets had touched it. With a metallic snap the chain broke and both ends were pulled away by heavy weights.

Somewhere in adjacent rooms, stone crashed against stone, metal twisted and broke, and springs snapped apart with a rusted twang.

“Woops, I hope that wasn’t something important,” Bunni squeaked.

* * *

Down at the bottom of the cave shaft, Barizibelle and Bramnilyn fired their mortar one last time at the jammed snap-doors. The iron ball arced perfectly, nestling into the jammed joint before exploding. Bits of tree, root, and stone exploded out and rained all around them, but the door did not budge. Before the smoke had cleared, fresh stalks and roots had already grown to replace the ones that had been destroyed.

“Why aren’t the other guns firing?” Barizibelle asked in frustration as she loaded a fresh shell. At first, all of the gun emplacements had pounded away at the obstructions, but with every volley, fewer and fewer guns had answered the call.

Barizibelle glanced over at the sealed call tube next to them. The last word they had was to pinch the tubes, and now they were cut off, unable to know what was happening. For the first time since she had been stationed here, she felt fear.

A small tear appeared in the air next to them, and two poisoned darts flew out, hitting each of them squarely in the neck. Instinctively they brought up their hands, but their fingers never reached the darts. They slumped over and collapsed atop their mortar.

As Barizibelle’s vision went dark, she saw the form of a black Navy ship sailing past them towards the vault door beyond.

* * *

Slowly the Dreadnaught glided to a stop in front of the vault door. Large enough to allow even a destroyer class airship to pass through, it sat round and immobile against a wall of solid rock, strengthened and reinforced by the magic of the Stonemasters.

Setsuna dropped down and gave out a long whistle. Around the edge of the vault door were six metal rods designed to extend out into the rockwall. Each rod was twice as wide as Hanner was tall. The whole door was so large that when Athel walked up to it, she couldn’t even look at the whole thing at the same time. It was larger than her field of vision, forcing her to crane her head back and forth just to take it all in. At the hub sat six different kind of locks. One for each piston. A combination lock with a five-layered tumbler, a set of mechanical key locks, a runic slate with various symbols to input some kind of passphrase, several hourglasses set into tumblers that constituted a time lock, and two final locks that defied conventional description. One consisted of a sculpted gargoyle with an open mouth, and the other a pair of braziers awaiting something to be placed in them, but what or how much was anyone’s guess.

“You know, in a way I’m kind of satisfied,” Ryin expressed as he tied down a buntline.

“Why is that, lad?” Captain Evere asked as he tilted his hat back.

“Well, the league takes so much from us in taxes every year, it’s nice to see that money actually go towards something. I mean, I’d hate to think they really just spend fifty taries on a hammer, you know?”

“Ramma’s teeth, you weren’t kidding about the vault door were you?” Setsuna appraised as she took out her lock-pick tools. “Lemme guess, they all have to be unlocked at the same time, right?”

Athel shook her head. “No, everything you see here is a trap.”

Setsuna looked up from her tools. “The locks are fake?”

Athel nodded. “If you try to unlock any of them, those pistons will fire and seal the door permanently.”

“So, what? We blast the thing off its hinges?” Mina asked.

“With what, a comet?” Hanner chuckled.

“Even if we tried to blast it, the inside of the door has a glass plate. If the glass is broken, the pistons fire,” Athel explained as she walked over to the rockwall.

“So, we can’t even shake it up,” Ryin concluded as he looked up at the vault door towering above them. “Kinda reminds me of my ohma.”

Athel rolled up her sleeve, revealing the Stonemaster brand on her wrist. She closed her eyes for a moment and moved her fingers around, as if she were setting up some imaginary figures before her.

“Whacha doing lass?” Captain Evere asked.

“I’m trying to remember exactly where he stood,” Athel revealed. She skipped two steps to the right, and then thrust her arm directly into the rock. The brand on her wrist gave off a weird purplish light and the rock gave way before her as if it were nothing more than pudding.

“You see, they have to open this vault five or six times a day, so using all those locks each and every time just wouldn’t be practical,” Athel explained as she searched around inside the rockwall. “The real release lever is somewhere right in here...If I can just find it,” she strained, sticking her tongue out.

“Do not forget that the people of Boeth are much shorter than you,” Alder advised as he slowly lowered himself down to the ground.

“Just like my ohma,” Ryin chuckled.

“Oh right.” Athel reached lower and grabbed ahold of something within the rock wall and pulled hard. There was a deep clicking sound that reverberated off the distant cave walls, followed by a second and then a third.

A rush of air spat out from the seam and the monstrous door began to swing on its hinges. Golden light spilled out from within, forcing many to shield their eyes.

What they saw within took their breath away. Even jaded Guild members like Captain Evere and Setsuna looked on with unabashed lust.

It was a desert made of gold. Piles as high as sand dunes, rolling like wind-swept hills of glistening riches. The distant walls of the vault were made of a hardened obsidian stone that sparkled where the torchlight hit it. The effect of the torches illuminating the room made the walls look like a night sky just after sunset, with the first twinkling of stars and gorgeous rivers of colors like the northern lights.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” Hanner admitted, wiping a manly tear from his face. Bending over, he scooped up a gold coin and gave it to Strenner to chew on.

Captain Evere and Mina stepped into the vault and basked in the glow of it. They looked like newlyweds on their honeymoon as they held each other close. Mina’s tail wrapped around the both of them.

Ryin and Setsuna bolted forward, climbing atop the nearest pile of gold, sending jingling trails of coins avalanching behind them. Reaching the top, they rolled down along the far side, giggling like children, covering themselves with it as if they were wrapping themselves in pure joy.

Margaret stood on the deck of the ship, sketching the scene into her notebook.

Alder slowly walked up alongside his wife and wrapped his hand around her waist reassuringly.

“You did it, my Lady,” he praised.

Athel wiped her hands on her sleeves, looking perfectly pleased with herself. “They never should have taken me on the tour with them,” she chuckled. “Okay, Margaret, let’s get the ship inside.”

* * *

In the command room, Colonel Jeshrop jammed his combat knife into his thigh in an attempt to wake himself up further, but it was in vain. He felt nothing. Staggering against his own weight, he pulled himself over to Corporal Brousterlum’s station. “Wake up the void barriers!” he yelled, shaking the man.

“I can’t. Someone removed the keystone from the array,” he explained, pointing at the empty slot.

“Flood the vault, then!” Cololen Jeshrop ordered, slamming his fist into the array.

“Flood the vault?” But what about our people manning the guns?” Corporal Brousterlum responded groggily, fighting as best he could against the sleep spell.

“You heard me, flood it now! Bury them alive down there!”

Corporal Brousterlum shook his head and tapped a rune before him. In response, the stone floor alongside him reshaped itself into a large lever. He grabbed a hold of it, but his eyes became heavy, and he hesitated.

“Just do it,” Colonel Jeshrop shouted, but Brousterlum refused.

“Fine, I'll do it myself.” Shoving the man aside, he grabbed the lever and hauled back on it. Instead of the sounds of counterweights being released, they were met only with a racket of loose chains and screeching metal.

“What was that?” Colonel Jeshrop asked, blinking his bloodshot eyes.

“There must be some damage to the door release,” Corporal Brousterlum surmised.

“Blast!”

* * *

Carefully, Margaret maneuvered the Dreadnaught into one corner of the vault. The ceiling was outfitted with a series of pulleys and hooks that allowed ships to be moved around inside the vault, but with a Stormcaller, none of that was necessary. Margaret simply summoned a light wind from the necessary directions to drift the ship into position.

“You know, sometimes I forget how much less work sailing is since we got Margaret,” Athel observed from atop a mound of gold.

“That’s because you've never had to stitch a thousand yards of torn sail,” Alder corrected.

Athel laughed.

* * *

Colonel Jeshrop stumbled across the dry dock towards the tunnel entrance, Private Rumir close behind him.

“Sir, what are you going to do?”

Colonel Jeshrop attached a rope to a stalagmite and prepared to rappel down over the edge. “I’m going to go down there and open up the flood gates myself.”

Private Rumir stopped in his tracks. “You'll never make it out of there! You'll be buried by a thousand tons of sand.”

Colonel Jeshrop grabbed Rumir by the collar. “I’d rather be buried alive then let anyone escape here with one tarie of my gold. Tell Brousterlum he’s in charge until reinforcements get here.”

Colonel Jeshrop rappelled down into the cave, kicking himself out wide and sliding down the rope thirty and forty feet at a time. He descended past the first of the gun emplacements with sleeping Heshi’sians inside.

Sliding to the end of the rope, he hung before an interlocked stone door.

“All hail Ishi, God of the Mountain,” he yelled as he jammed his fingers into the stone. His magic made the material soft, and the doors ruptured from within, releasing a wall of sand that engulfed him and flooded into the tunnel.

* * *

The vault shuddered and everyone was thrown to the ground.

“What was that?” Margaret asked as she poked her head up from within a pile of gemstones that had fallen off of their rack. “Earthquake?”

Athel skidded down a mound of coins to the vault door. Her ears popped as she looked out into the darkness of the cave tunnel. Out at the edge of her vision, the small distant torch lights of the gun emplacements went out one by one with alarming speed.

Oh no.

She stomped her foot and a Juupa root poked up out of the ground and wrapped itself around her ankle, allowing her to commune with the entire root system.

“They're flooding the tunnel with sand!” Athel yelled out.

“Lass, you never said they could fill the tunnel with sand,” Captain Evere barked as he climbed down a stack of gold bars to join her.

“They can’t...at least five years ago they couldn’t.”

More torchlights went out, the entire cave began to shake from the force of the avalanche approaching them.

“We've got to close the squattin’ door,” Hanner yelled as he grabbed the vault door and began yanking on it as hard as he could.

“Princess, if we get outta this, I’m going to kill you,” Ryin threatened as he joined Hanner and pushed.

Everyone joined in pushing the vault door. Athel grew a pair of giant Juupa roots and lent their strength, but the door was so massive it was moving only inches at a time with all their combined effort.

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