Mercury Mind (The Downfall Saga Book 1) (35 page)

The world went dark.

He felt refreshed, like he’d just woken from a long sleep. He blinked several times, but the light didn’t reappear. He slapped himself, fearing that he’d fallen into a dream. He set the pendant back down onto the pedestal and still it remained dark.

He felt a slight vibration in the floor and thought another earthquake was forthcoming. It took him several moments to realize that he could hear a noise coming from his right. It sounded like an avalanche of rocks.

The Clachwards had entered the room and were coming for him. He grabbed the pendant and hung the chain around his neck. He made his way over to the stalagmite and started climbing. Grasping for handholds in the dark, he slowly made his way up its side. He expected to feel a hand clamp around his ankle at any moment, but it didn’t come.

He could hear noise from all around him on the ground, but the Clachwards couldn’t climb up behind him.

He reached a point where the stalagmite had narrowed enough for him to wrap his legs around it. Shimmying upwards he neared the top. Reaching around for a handhold, he tried to hoist himself up, but the tip of the stalagmite broke off. The chunk of stalagmite ponderously fell past him, turning end over end, before crashing into the Clachwards below. He managed to retain a single handhold as the rest of his body dangled against the side of the stalagmite. He hung there, body bathed in moonlight, the floor lost in shadow far below.

Hanging there by a single hand, he wondered if it was worth going on. Even if he made it to the top, what was he going to do? Sit there until he starved? It would be so easy to just let go. The end would be quick, but he’d die with so many unanswered questions remaining.

He reached up with his other hand and found a handhold, and pulled himself up. The top of the stalagmite was now wide enough that, if he balanced himself carefully, he could sit on top of it.

He looked down at the Clachwards swarming around the base. They pressed themselves against the side. Reaching upwards, they tried to climb, but couldn’t pull themselves off the ground.

It sounded like the entire room was full of Clachwards. There heavy steps echoing off the walls in a dizzying cacophony of noise.

The Clachwards near the outside of the room kept pressing forward, crushing the closest ones against the stalagmite. As the sea of them kept pressing forward, some were thrust on top of their neighbors. These Clachwards walked over their brethren and pressed against the stalagmite. Over time, a pyramid of Clachwards slowly grew all around him.

Donovan brought his knees up to his chest, and rested his head on top. Closing his eyes, he waited for it to be over.

O
smont saw a soft glow growing in the east. He’d been searching for Donovan all night, but had found no sign of him. Cleary had tracked him down to tell him that all of the students except for Donovan had been accounted for, and that he might be trapped underground, but try as he might he couldn’t find any way into the underground tunnels.

He couldn’t count how many Clachwards he’d run into during the night. Some industrious person who figured out a way to filter out the diamond dust from their remains would be able to make a fortune. About an hour ago things inexplicably changed. He was watching three Clachwards slowly heading towards him when they all disintegrated without warning. Since then he had found many piles of dust and stone, but no Clachwards walking around.

He arched his back and stretched it out, his spine making several popping sounds. He could see Carrick’s Stand rising above the trees to the south of him, and he thought he could see a light shining near the top of the hill. He shook his head and blinked several times, but the light remained. With no other leads to follow, he headed towards the towering hill.

It took him fifteen minutes to reach the base of the hill. The light was slowly fading, but he traced its origin back to an animal burrow on the side of the hill. Ten weary minutes later, he had climbed up to the opening. It would be a tight squeeze past several feet of dirt before he reached a large open area. The floor dropped off when the hole opened up. He dug out the dirt around the opening until he could pull himself through.

He set his pack on the ground beside him, and pulled himself head first through the opening until his hands couldn’t feel a floor ahead of him. Summoning a light, he suddenly found himself facing down at a large drop. A large stalagmite grew up from the ground below him, with a figure perched on top. He lowered the light until he could make out a familiar figure.

“Donovan!” he called. The figure didn’t move. He called twice more before the figure wearily lifted its head.

“I’m okay,” came the soft reply.

“How do I get down there?”

“Tunnel.” Donovan pointed to the south. “It’s a long way to the opening.”

“I want you to relax. I’m going to lift you with my magic.”

He focused on Donovan and willed him into the air, but he didn’t budge. He tried a second time with the same results.

“I’m too tired to use my magic right now,” said Osmont. “I have a rope which should reach. Tell me when you have it tied around you.”

Osmont wiggled his way back out of the hole. Opening his pack, he withdrew a large coil of rope. He had faced so many dangers out in the wild that he always carried rope with him when he went into the wilderness. He tossed half of the coil through the opening, before slowly letting out the rest. When Donovan called out that he was ready, he backed up to a large rock poking out of the hill. He quickly tied the end of the rope around the rock before he began to haul Donovan into the air. Each time he lifted him a few feet, he looped the rope over the rock. He stopped to rest once, but finally Donovan emerged from the opening.

“I’m glad to see you,” said Osmont.

“What happened?” asked Donovan wearily.

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

He helped Donovan to his feet, but Donovan was so tired that he could barely walk.

“I guess we do this the hard way,” said Osmont, slinging Donovan over his shoulder and heading for Haven.

***

“N
one at all?” asked Headmaster Marrok, sitting behind the desk in his office.

“None,” said Professor Cleary, sitting in a chair across from Marrok.

“I need to finish a letter to send to all of the students’ parents about what happened. Tell me the short version, and we’ll talk in more detail tomorrow after they’ve left.”

“Cleary and I found an entrance into the tunnels last night,” said Osmont, leaning against the wall near the door. “We went out early this morning to start exploring them, but they are more extensive than we imagined. When we found the room where Donovan was, we—”

“The room was under Carrick’s Stand, correct?” asked Marrok.

“Yes. A large chamber was hollowed out under the hill. We didn’t encounter a single Clachward while we were searching for the room. The room itself was covered in the remnants of hundreds of them.”

“Maybe even thousands,” said Cleary.

“How could someone make that many? It would take many lifetimes to create them all, and you could buy a kingdom for what it would cost.”

“We can’t even speculate on that,” said Cleary. “The Clachwards themselves are very durable magic. They could have been created millennia ago and been trapped underground ever since.”

Marrok raised a quizzical eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

“Our initial theory is that they were trapped underground in these tunnels for numerous years,” said Osmont. “We think that earthquake from before the term started could have opened an exit from the tunnels and they have been slowly finding their way out ever since.”

“They are used to guard precious items,” said Marrok. “Why would they leave the tunnels?”

“That’s not precisely true,” said Cleary. “They were most commonly used to guard some sort of treasure, but they could be given any single command as long as it was simple enough for them to complete. I could show them a drawing of the king’s crown and tell them to bring it to me. They’d then aimlessly roam the land until they found the crown, at which point they’d try to take it, before bringing it to me.”

“The important question is not why they left the tunnels, but why did they all collapse,” said Osmont. “The magic that binds them together begins to unravel once they’ve completed their objective. The fact that all of them collapsed near the same time indicates that they must have fulfilled their purpose.”

“What was their purpose?” asked Marrok.

“There is only one thing of significance that I know of which occurred around the time of their collapse,” said Osmont.

“The pendant,” said Marrok.

Marrok stared down at the pendant laying on his desk.

The pendant looked simple enough on first glance. It had a basic chain with a dull metallic finish. The pendant itself was a ring, about three inches in diameter, with a dagger wrapped in lighting across its center.

“This was inscribed into the top of the pedestal,” said Cleary, reading a piece of paper which he withdrew from his pocket. “For this to be found, means that I have failed. Your foes is now free. I weep for the future.”

“It’s more than a coincidence,” said Osmont. “We all know this symbol. They haven’t been around in a long time. In the last year we’ve found previously unknown tunnels with this symbol carved all over the walls, the pendant, and this hanging around someone’s neck.”

He walked over to the desk and dropped the necklace that Donovan had acquired that winter.

“Three things doesn’t make a conspiracy,” said Cleary.

“How many times have you seen this outside of a book?” asked Osmont. “Have you heard of anyone coming across this? I’m telling you that this signifies the return of an ancient order that hasn’t been seen in a thousand years.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” said Marrok. “I need something concrete. You two need to go out and find something more before I can do anything.”

Osmont looked back and forth between the two of them before answering. “We’ll do our best, but we cannot afford to wait too long before taking action.”

“I need you both to promise me that you’ll make this a priority despite what’s going to happen,” said Marrok.

“Wait,” said Cleary. “What’s going to happen?”

“Your word.”

“You know my opinion,” said Osmont. “I wouldn’t let this go even if you told me to.”

“Fair enough.”

“I need to go through the old prophecies again, with this in mind,” said Cleary. “It may explain a few things which have been puzzling me.” Cleary looked at Osmont’s resolute face before turning back to Marrok. “Whatever the outcome, I will not give up on it. Now, what do you think is going to happen?”

Marrok stared down at the pendant on his desk and wouldn’t make eye contact when he replied. “I knew there were Clachwards in those woods, and the potential dangers they posed. I put tradition ahead of our students’ safety, and thirty students died because of my arrogance. I cannot, in good conscience, remain at my post as Headmaster.”

“With what’s going on, we need you in charge more than ever,” said Osmont. “You cannot abandon us.”

“You were there. Thirty dead. I cannot return after that. Who would send their kids here?”

“We all bear responsibility for what happened. I can’t tell you what to do, but I’m asking you as a friend to take some time to think about it before making your final decision.”

“I doubt that I will change my mind.”

“Just think about it,” said Osmont. “Those thirty deaths were a tragedy which you could have prevented. If I’m right, then you staying here could save the lives of thousands.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Cleary. “We need to keep things quiet while we gather more information. Donovan can never know.”

“He’ll find out eventually,” said Osmont.

Cleary’s response was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Enter,” said Marrok.

Donovan opened the door and froze when he saw the three of them in the middle of their discussion.

“Hi,” said Donovan meekly. “I found your note when I woke up and I—”

“I’m glad you came,” came Marrok’s cheery reply. “Please have a seat.” He pointed to the empty chair beside Cleary.

Marrok hid the pendants in one of the drawers in his desk while Donovan crossed the room. Osmont retreated to lean against the wall.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I have some last minute studying to do for my exams,” said Donovan sitting down.

“You won’t need to worry about your exams,” said Marrok. “Osmont found you yesterday morning and you’ve been unconscious for a day and a half.”

“Wait”, said Donovan, doing the math in his head. “That means I’m missing my exams.” He hopped out of his chair.

“Please sit down and let me explain,” said Marrok.

Donovan slowly lowered himself back into the chair.

“We feared that you had overused your magic and wouldn’t wake in time for your exams. It would be unfair to the other students to let you write the same exams as them at a later date, and unfair to the professors to create new exams just for one student. I’ve already talked to all of your professors and they told me that they expected you to pass their class, albeit just barely in some cases. You will receive a passing grade in all your classes and be able to return here next year if you desire. I will warn you that some of the specializations that you can enter in your third year look at cumulative grades. So missing these exams could impact your future opportunities, but we’ll discuss that at a later date if it’s pertinent.”

“I don’t think I’ll be coming back,” said Donovan.

Marrok gave Osmont a sharp look when Donovan said that.

“I sincerely hope that you reconsider,” said Marrok. “That’s all that I wanted to talk to you about. Is there anything you need from me?”

“Last night ... I mean the night before last. There was a pendant that I found. I didn’t see it in my room and I was wondering if you knew what had happened to it.”

Silence hung in the air before Marrok finally broke it.

“Can you describe the pendant?” Marrok silently studied Donovan’s face as he replied.