The Mage's Grave: Mages of Martir Book #1 (24 page)

This gave Durima time to think, which she did not want to do (she felt it prudent to remain aware of her surroundings at all times, even if there was nothing much to remain aware of), but which she did anyway due to their frustratingly slow pace.

She wondered how Master was doing. No doubt he was already at North Academy, maybe had even dug up the grave of that Braim Kotogs mortal. She hoped that he had run into some unexpected complications; not because she wanted to see him fail (although she thought failure might humble him a little) but because she and Gujak had not yet found the gauntlet and she wanted to make sure that she got it to him on time.

That made her wonder exactly what this 'gauntlet' was. It had to be special and important. If it was any old gauntlet, Master could have easily stolen one from a mortal or gone and bought one from one of the merchants on World's End. It probably had something to do with Master's overarching grand plan, the details of which were still fuzzy to Durima, even after she had thought about it deeply.

I wonder what Master will do to us when his plan succeeds,
Durima thought.
Will he reward us for our help? Or will he ignore us because of our many failures?

Either way, Durima did not see her or Gujak's life changing much after all of this was through. They would continue to serve Master or, if he decided he didn't need their help anymore, would serve some other god or goddess who needed their help. Durima didn't know which of the many gods in both Pantheons would need their help, but she figured she would worry about that later.

Maybe Skimif himself will hire us,
Durima thought. Then she chuckled to herself, low enough that Gujak could not hear it.
What am I saying? Skimif never hires katabans. He does all his work himself because he's just that kind of god. Most likely we'll end up working for someone like Kano, or worse, the Loner God.

Her thoughts ran along this track until she and Gujak reached the bottom of the staircase. The claustrophobia down here was even worse than it had been in the hallway from before, making Durima wish that this gauntlet had been hidden on some wide open tropical island somewhere further down south.

Gujak stopped. “I stepped in something.”

Durima grimaced. “Did I need to know that?”

“Not like that,” said Gujak, shaking his head as he lowered his glowing hand closer to the floor. “It's … webbing?”

Durima looked at the floor. A thick wad of spider web, glistening in the soft glow of Gujak's hand, was wrapped around Gujak's foot. He tugged at it and managed to pull his foot out of the sticky stuff, but his foot was still covered in it.

“Ew,” said Durima. “Why is there spider web down here?”

“Better question,” said Gujak, who based on his tone of voice was already on the edge of panic, “why is it so huge?”

Durima shook her head dismissively. “So what? We can deal with giant spiders. We just squash them like smaller ones.”

“Durima, I don't think you understand, but this is really, really bad,” said Gujak. “Spider web usually dissolves in a few hours if the spider in question doesn't recycle it. But this is fresh, which means that whatever made this web is probably still close by.”

Durima looked around the area, but it was too dark to see much. “Well, maybe it's napping right now because I don't hear it and definitely don't see it. Anyway, not like we can just go back, not when Master is expecting us to get that gauntlet.”

“You're right,” said Gujak, although the way he stumbled over the word 'right' did not inspire confidence in Durima. “I bet that the gauntlet is just around the corner now. And if we do run into some kind of giant spider, well, we can handle it like you said.”

It was painfully obvious to Durima that Gujak did not believe even half of what he said. Knowing him, Gujak was probably imagining her and him getting wrapped up in thick web cocoons and being fed to the giant spider's babies bit by bit. Gujak almost always let his imagination get the best of him, especially when he was scared out of his mind like he was now.

Still, Gujak did advance, heading deeper into the island's interior at the same pace he had walked down the staircase. Durima once more followed, but this time keeping her eyes and ears open for any skittering sounds. Despite what she said earlier, she didn't think that the giant spider was actually sleeping. Their luck was never that good.

This time, they found themselves walking down some kind of wide open tunnel/hallway. Thick webbing hung from the ceiling, which slowed their progress considerably. This webbing didn't seem as fresh as the chunk that Gujak had stepped in and in fact went down easily when Durima cut it with her claws. Still, it was an ominous sign that whatever was down here had clearly made this island its territory. And Durima knew quite well what animals did to creatures that invaded their territory, even unintentionally.

But despite the mess of webbing they found, there was no other sign of the spider. It was almost like the spider had made the webbing and left; an odd thought, to be sure. Whether that was normal spider behavior or not, Durima didn't know, and she wasn't sure she wanted to find out.

The tunnel/hallway must have been much shorter than it seemed, however, because after only a few minutes of cutting through the webbing, Durima and Gujak emerged into a wide-open chamber that was a breath of fresh air after being in such a confined space for so long.

This chamber was designed oddly, though. It had no floor; instead, there was an open pool in the center, with dark seawater inside it as still as stone. The seawater must have been the source of the salty, ocean-like smell that permeated the room, reminding Durima of the beach on Zamis.

The pool was ringed by a stone walkway that offered little room for movement and no railing to keep anyone from falling into the water below. Durima had to be careful not to lean forward too much, otherwise she would fall into the water, which did not look friendly or safe to her.

A long, narrow stone bridge jutted out over the water, but it only went about halfway across. It wasn't the stone bridge that caught Durima's attention, however. It was the glint of silver at the end of it, which reflected the light of Gujak's hand as brilliantly as a mirror.

“What's that?” said Durima, pointing at the glinting silver object.

Gujak raised his hand and his light grew brighter. As it did so, the rays washed over the silver object, giving them a much better look at its appearance.

The object resembled a gauntlet designed for a human hand. It looked perfectly preserved, as if whoever had put it down here had made sure to come back and clean it regularly. It was still too far away to make out its finer details, but that didn't matter because Durima knew that they had hit the jackpot.

“There it is,” said Durima, pointing at the gauntlet. “The gauntlet that Master wanted us to get.”

“Are you sure?” said Gujak, looking around the place as if he expected to see an identical gauntlet nearby.

“How can I not be sure?” said Durima. “Master said there is only one gauntlet on Bleak Rock. That object looks exactly like a gauntlet; therefore, it
is
the gauntlet.”

“I guess you're right,” said Gujak. “Well, I'll go and grab it. It doesn't look like it's protected by anything, so hopefully we'll be out of here very soon.”

Durima wanted to be the one to get it, but when she saw how narrow and unstable the stone bridge looked, she decided that it made more sense to stand back and let Gujak do it. She watched, scratching her arm, as Gujak walked carefully across the stone bridge, which held him with no trouble.

As Gujak walked, his light casting his shadow across the still waters below, Durima fully expected something bad to happen to him. Maybe a sea monster would shoot out of the water and bite his head off. Or maybe the stone bridge would fall into the water. Possibly, the gauntlet itself was rigged with some kind of magical trap, although Durima could not sense anything unusual about this gauntlet.

All she knew was that she was relieved when Gujak reached the end of the stone bridge and picked up the gauntlet. He turned around, the smile on his face evident even from a distance, as he held up the gauntlet and said, “I got the gauntlet, so that means we can go back to Master now! Maybe he'll be so pleased by our speediness that he'll waive our punishment.”

“Great,” said Durima. She gestured at Gujak with her right hand. “Now come on. No need to keep Master waiting any longer than he needs to, right?”

Gujak nodded, but then his smile contorted into an expression of pure, undisguised horror. He pointed over Durima's head and said, “Durima, behind you!”

Durima would have turned around to see what Gujak saw, but then she felt something sharp and burning bite her back. Her body went rigid as a board, causing her to fall flat on her face. As soon as she hit the floor, she lost all consciousness.

Chapter Fifteen

T
he light that exploded from Braim's casket rapidly faded away. The night returned to take back its domain, but Darek's eyes continued to see the light burned in his retinas as if it was still there. He rubbed his eyes furiously, trying to get them to work properly again even as that same horrible laugh from before became louder and louder. It sounded like a snake laughing, an awful sound that sent chills up Darek's spine.

When his vision finally returned to normal, Darek looked back up at the casket and was shocked by what he saw.

The casket was still wide open, but now there was someone standing in it. The being who stood in the casket was not the Ghostly God, nor was it the Magical Superior. The being had purplish-black skin, a color that made Darek's stomach churn, and the skin itself resembled smooth snake skin. He wore the white funeral robes that all Academy mages who died in the school were given; at least, at one point they were white, but now they looked faded and dirty from spending so many years beneath the earth, with a handful of holes in them here and there. His face was a combination of snake and human, with gleaming yellow eyes that spoke of an intelligence far above that of any mortal.

The being, who had ceased laughing, raised his arms and looked at his hands, which were wide and flat. Flexing his fingers, the being laughed again, as if the sight of his oddly long fingers amused him greatly.

Then he looked down at his thighs and legs. He lifted his right leg and almost lost his balance before putting his foot down on the ground and steadying himself. Even that seemed to amuse him, however, because he was smiling like a little kid who had just made an amazing new discovery.

“Oh, how many years has it been since I last had a
proper
body to walk around in,” said the being. He then made an odd rattling noise that Darek belatedly realized was him inhaling air. “Oh, how many years has it been since I last breathed in fresh air. This is not the air of my world, but it is air nonetheless, as pure and clean as the rivers of Elda.”

Darek shook his head and looked around. The Magical Superior still lay on the ground, but he no longer looked quite as stunned as he had before. Still, Darek didn't think the Magical Superior would be getting up anytime soon, so he began looking for the Ghostly God.

He found the Ghostly God soon enough. The God of Ghosts and Mist was lying flat on his back on the ground. He looked like he had been knocked out by a professional fighter and for a moment Darek didn't know if the deity was even still alive.

Then he saw the Ghostly God's chest heaving up and down, and Darek knew, with disgust, that the god was going to be okay.

The being apparently lost interest in his physical body, for he lowered his arms and began looking around at his surroundings. “My, how different the world looks from two legs. I have been in that accursed snake form for so long that I forgot what being two-legged was like.”

Darek's teeth chattered, even though it wasn't very cold out. His senses were starting to return to normal and he was sensing that this being, whoever he was, was absurdly powerful. Far more powerful than the Magical Superior, dwarfing even the Ghostly God, this being seemed to be on a level all his own. He was definitely not a god, but what he was, exactly, Darek didn't know.

But what he said about that 'accursed snake form' …
Darek thought.
Could he be—?

“Yes, Darek Takren,” said the being, who was now looking directly at Darek. “It is indeed I, Uron the teleporter snake. Or at least, that's the identity I chose until I could get a new and better body. Obviously, I am not and never was a real teleporter snake.”

Darek's eyes widened and his hands shook underneath him. “Then what are you? What is going on here? Where did you even come from?”

“You have many questions,” said Uron. “I probably should not answer them, but you and the whole world will know my name soon enough. Perhaps you can become my herald who will tell the entire world about me.”

“I won't be your herald,” said Darek. “I swore an oath to the gods, not to … whatever you are.”

“Why would you ever swear loyalty to idiots like them?” said Uron, gesturing at the Ghostly God. “They are pompous, arrogant, and foolish, not to mention easily manipulated. I do not even want to get into their pathetic jealousies or vendettas against each other, nor how their constant scheming against themselves and their ruler are more irritating than amusing.”

“Even so, I'm not your servant and I never will be,” said Darek. He was finding it hard to talk, but with both the Magical Superior and the Ghostly God out for the count, he knew he had to keep it up until he could come up with some kind of plan to stop Uron. “I'd rather die than serve you.”

Uron shrugged. “I haven't even told you who I am and you are already saying such silly things. I know you mortals tend to jump to conclusions based on very little information, but this is another thing entirely.”

“You can still tell me all about you,” said Darek. “Just because I won't serve you doesn't mean I don't want my questions answered.”

“Very well,” said Uron. He stretched his arms. “I need to give myself a few minutes to stretch out the kinks in my bones anyway. This body hasn't move an inch since it was buried all thirty years ago. I am lucky it hadn't turned into dust.”