Mage's End Game, page 6
Warin led them through a labyrinth of tunnels, the walls lined with the bones of those who had succumbed to the plague and wars a thousand years ago. Sera tried not to linger on the macabre sight, focusing instead on the promise of hidden knowledge that lay ahead.
The air grew colder, and Sera shivered, her mage-flame doing little to dispel the chill that crept through her bones.
“Watch your step,” she said, letting the glowing orb linger to illuminate where the ground beneath them became treacherous with fallen rock and debris.
“Good Lord, look at this,” Hugh whispered, his voice hushed with reverence as they rounded a bend in the tunnel.
Sera’s heart raced at the sight laid out before them. They had come upon a narrow passage, flanked on all sides by skeletal remains embedded within the very earth. Shapes in white to dark cream created a gruesome sort of masonry. She shuddered, imagining the lives of those who had been entombed here, their bones now a part of the foundation of the world above.
“Do you think they are Saxon?” Kitty asked, a fingertip hovering above a skull that displayed its profile, the jaw open in a half scream.
“Older,” Warin replied. “Humans have buried their dead here for millennia. This is a sacred site.”
“I wonder what these remains could tell us about the sort of lives they lived. Did they die of old age, sickness, or injury?” Hugh peered closer, his hand tracing a fracture in a long bone.
“Perhaps Warin will let you return another day to study those who protect his library.” Sera gestured for the gargoyle to carry on. Her friends could either stay in the dark or follow the bobbing light.
The deeper they went, the more Sera became aware of an odd phenomenon. The air was no longer chilly; indeed, she found it a tolerable temperature. “Does anyone else notice that it’s getting warmer down here?”
“Yes. Do you think all the earth above us has something to do with it? Rather like piling on woollen blankets?” Kitty asked from close behind Sera.
“I don’t know.” Sera tucked the knowledge away to ponder later. Perhaps she and Hugh could return; he could examine bones, and she could fathom why the air grew warmer when she expected it to be frigid. If the air in the tunnels was temperate in the middle of winter, could there be a way to harness that to make the homes of those above warmer?
“We are here.” Warin stopped at the end of the tunnel.
Before them stood a round piece of granite some nine feet in diameter, its surface covered in runes unlike any Sera had ever seen before. The ancient symbols seemed to pulse with a power that both drew her in and set her on edge.
“This isn’t Fae.” She peered closer. These runes didn’t have the familiar shape of the Fae language. She studied the markings. The faintest touch of an eerie magic emanated from the symbols, different from anything she had encountered before.
Warin leaned back against the curve of the tunnel and crossed massive arms over his broad chest, the faintest trace of a smile on his square face. “Why don’t you try opening it?”
If he was giving her the chance, it meant he didn’t think she could. There was undoubtedly some trick to triggering the lock, rather like the one in the mage tower where you had to ask the metal ouroboros to move out of the way.
With a deep breath, she started with a simple air spell. Gathering her focus, she whispered the incantation, waving her fingers in a fluid motion before the granite. The stone remained unyielding.
“Try something else that doesn’t work,” Kitty helpfully suggested.
Curling her hands while she thought, this time, Sera invoked the power of fire, calling forth the essence of heat and combustion. A soft glow emanated from her hands, casting flickering shadows over the walls. As she thrust her palms towards the granite, sparks flew, but the stone merely absorbed the heat without so much as a crack.
Hugh rapped a knuckle on the warm stone. “It’s gargoyle construction. Could the solution be the earth that contains the library?”
“Good idea,” Sera replied, already visualising the spell. She reached out, fingers splayed, and chanted the words that would call forth the power of the earth—the very force that shaped mountains and carved valleys.
Had the door shifted?
No, any effect was gone, and the granite proved impervious to her efforts.
“You have had your little game. How does it open?” Her hands itched for a sheet of paper and a piece of charcoal to take a rubbing of the unusual markings in order to learn of their origins.
“Only a gargoyle can access the library. Our elders made this two thousand years ago.” Warin laid one dinner-plate-sized hand flat on the stone.
“Gargoyles are impervious to magic. Are you saying you have your own sort of magical ability?” Sera’s mind lit up with ideas. She had assumed gargoyles were powerless save for their ability to shift their shapes, but perhaps their rock-solid bodies contained a different sort of ability, gifted to them by Mother Earth.
“We are part of the earth, only our forms are different,” he said in a deep, gravelly tone.
Which wasn’t an answer at all.
With both hands flat on the carved surface, Warin’s fingers seemed to meld with the stone as he whispered a guttural incantation in an ancient language. One by one, the runes glowed a deep amber, pulsating like the heartbeat of the earth itself.
Before their eyes, the granite shifted and groaned, transforming into a door that creaked open to reveal a room beyond.
Warin let them go first. Sera took a cautious step over the threshold—perhaps the first human to do so—Kitty and Hugh crowding behind her. The room was oval and windowless. Its walls curved like the belly of a great serpent. Sera crafted more light orbs and set them at regular intervals around the walls. The flickering light revealed shelves soaring two storeys above their heads, laden with books and scrolls so numerous that they seemed to defy the laws of space. A magical, ancient, and mystical air filled the chamber.
Kitty tilted her head to stare at the curved ceiling high above them. “How deep underground are we? I cannot recall any structure poking out of Bunhill Fields…other than the hill itself.”
“We are deep enough for our knowledge to remain concealed from prying eyes,” Warin answered, casting his gaze over the vast collection.
“One could almost suspect you built this library first and then created the hill and surrounding cemetery, piling up the bones of the dead to hide it.” Kitty turned her sharp gaze to the gargoyle.
Warin remained silent, his features unreadable.
“How did you conceal it from the mages? They must have questioned you.” Sera wandered to the closest shelf and murmured titles under her breath.
Warin shrugged. “We told them it was a catacomb to house the dead. They lost interest.”
Sera swallowed a snort. She could imagine the mages recoiling in horror, scurrying back to the mage tower, and the existence of the catacombs under the cemetery becoming lost to time.
The room held the musty odour of aged parchment mingling with the tang of leather bindings and the faint scent of something else—the smell of magic itself. Soft whispers echoed around them as if the very spirits of the long dead holding the library in their embrace guarded their secrets jealously.
“Look at these,” Kitty murmured. She ran her fingers reverently over a row of ancient tomes, their spines embossed with letters from languages Sera had never encountered before.
“Many of these texts are written in tongues now lost to time,” Warin said, following the line of Kitty’s gaze.
Kitty pulled a face at Sera and muttered out the side of her mouth, “That will not help our search.”
Apart from the rows of books, there were also diamond-shaped compartments crammed with scrolls.
“How are the books organised?” Sera asked, surveying the labyrinthine stacks with a mixture of awe and trepidation. “Is there any method to this madness?”
“Yes,” Warin replied, a sly grin playing on his stony features. “Each section is dedicated to a particular branch of knowledge, from arcane lore to the natural sciences. The books are arranged by subject matter and then further divided according to the age and origin of their authors.”
That must be the gargoyle’s idea of a joke. Who used an organisation method that required the seeker to have an in-depth knowledge of both the writers and their works over the last two thousand years?
“We are here. Let’s make a start.” Determination flared inside Sera. Somewhere in the pages of one of these books, there had to be a spell that would work to help King George.
The group split up, each of them tackling a different point on the compass. Sera’s fingers traced the spines of ancient tomes, their surfaces cold and smooth, like the scales of some long-forgotten serpent. The air in the library was heavy with the mustiness of time and a tinge of sadness that it had sat for so long with no one to visit it.
Silence fell as they each became lost in the task. The only noises were the shuffle of pages, a soft tread, and a few muttered words. At length, Kitty approached Sera with a thick volume.
“This one has a spell for cleansing the spirit.” Kitty’s hands held it open at the page.
Sera scanned the intricate symbols and arcane diagrams. “No,” she said with a sigh, shaking her head. “This is for purging demonic possession. We need something more refined, something that will restore memories and protect against dark magic.”
Kitty returned to her side of the room. More time elapsed, and this time, Hugh presented a book for her inspection. “What about this one?” he asked hopefully. “It mentions a spell to shield the mind from enchantment.”
“Oh, that sounds promising.” Sera’s brow furrowed as she read the faint text. “Unfortunately, this would make the king immune to all magic, including our own attempts to help him. We need something more…targeted.”
Warin, who had perched on a high shelf, unfurled his wings and leapt into the air. He soared gracefully above them, his stone hands reaching out to pluck volumes from the uppermost reaches of the library.
“These may be of help. They contain protective magic.” He swooped back towards the group and placed the stack of books at Sera’s feet.
“Thank you, Warin,” she murmured and reached for the top volume.
As Sera delved deeper into the labyrinth of knowledge, the ancient texts surrounding her blurred together, forming an indecipherable mass of words and symbols. Her hands flew between pages and scrolls, her fingers dancing as if possessed by the spirit of some long-dead mage.
She paused as a chill ran down her spine and a chorus of moans and whispers filled the library. The sound was like the sigh of a thousand restless souls, their voices echoing through the chamber in a haunting lament.
“Does everyone else hear that?” Hugh asked, his voice low and uneasy.
Kitty’s eyes were wide. “It seems we are not alone in this place.”
Sera swallowed. The weight of the dead pressed upon her from all sides, their ghostly whispers urging her to hurry. “Stay focused. Don’t let restless spirits distract us from our task,” she said, even as the hairs on the back of her neck bristled.
They continued searching, spiralling higher in the shelves, while Sera focused on the books Warin fetched from near the ceiling. Her pulse quickened as her fingers traced the ancient parchment, the inked symbols seeming to dance and spin before her eyes. It was as if the very air within the library hummed with an unseen energy. The moans and whispers of the dead continued to swirl around them, but Sera ignored them. If they wanted to chat, they should go find old Ethel.
“Here!” she cried, her voice cutting through the spectral cacophony like a blade. “I have found two spells that I can combine to create the potion we need.”
“Show us.” Kitty placed the book she held back on the shelf and rushed to where Sera sat on the floor.
Hugh walked more slowly, careful not to step on the scattered volumes.
Sera picked up one open book and pointed to a page. “This spell restores lost memories and brings clarity of thought. And this one”—Sera pointed to the book open on her lap—“is a protection spell to ward off evil magic.”
“And combining them will work?” Kitty asked cautiously.
“It has to,” Sera whispered. “All I need to do now is copy out the spells.”
Warin swooped down from his perch, clutching a stack of parchment, an inkpot, and an odd quill fashioned from a small bone. He placed them before Sera with a nod, his stone hands rough yet surprisingly gentle in their movements.
“Thank you, Warin,” Sera murmured, taking up the pen and dipping it into the small pot of ink. She copied out the spells carefully, while Kitty and Hugh gathered up the discarded books for Warin to return to the shelves.
Then both her friends began pulling books at random, devouring every scrap of mystic lore in the time left to them.
As Sera completed the final stroke of her penmanship, her breath shuddered in her chest, relief washing over her. She cast a simple spell to ensure her version was an exact duplicate and every punctuation mark was identical. Any tiny mistake might cause the spell to fail or deliver an unexpected result.
She waved the pages through the air to let the ink dry before folding them up and tucking them safely under her stays and against her skin.
“Time to leave.” Kitty heaved a sigh and stared at the shelves as though she were being parted from a lover.
“The dead grow restless. We have lingered too long,” Warin intoned. His voice was a low rumble that seemed to echo through the stone walls.
As one, the group turned away from the towering shelves, and Sera snuffed out the hanging orbs. Their eyes adjusted to the dim light from the one remaining globe that hovered before them. A pang of loss passed through Sera as they left behind the trove of knowledge, knowing there were so many secrets to uncover. Yet another marvellous thing to revisit once she had dealt with Lord Rowan and freed the king and queen.
Once they were all back in the tunnel, Warin swung the granite door shut and placed his stone hands on the cold rock. He closed his eyes and murmured in a language that sent shivers down Sera’s spine. The runes glowed a soft amber as the stone responded to his gentle commands. Rock shifted and groaned as it knitted itself back together, sealing off the hidden library from the world above.
“Goodbye. We shall return another day.” Sera touched the smooth stone one last time.
“All of us,” Kitty added.
In silence, they retraced their steps along the winding tunnel, their faces illuminated by the flickering glow of Sera’s magical light. The bones that lined the walls seemed to press in on them, eager to touch those who had been inside death’s library.
“Can you feel it?” Kitty whispered, her voice barely audible above the shuffle of their feet over rough dirt. “Thousands of lives, trapped in the soil and rock.”
“The gargoyles could not have enlisted better guardians. The dead may be at rest, but they never sleep,” Hugh said.
As they emerged from the tunnel into the mausoleum, Sera blinked against the sudden brightness that filled the room. The contrast between the tepid, shadowy depths and the cold, sunlit world above was stark, a reminder of how far they had journeyed—both physically and metaphorically.
“Thank you.” She placed a hand on Warin’s forearm as they stepped out into the frosty grass. “We wouldn’t have found what we needed without you.”
“I was too long wrapped in my grief and forgot my duty. We protect, and I thank you for reminding me of that.” He took her hand in his larger one. He had lost the woman he loved and the family they might have had, but Sera had found another for him at the Crow’s Nest.
“Say hello to Meredith and Hannah for me, please.” They had missed the mother and daughter during their recent stay. The pair had travelled to town to buy supplies for the classroom, as Meredith taught the children.
A grin spread over Warin’s face, and he nodded. Stone encased his human form as he shifted into his gargoyle one. Spreading his monstrous wings, he leapt into the air, and the grey of stone blended with the overcast sky.
“Now what?” Kitty asked, trying to find the gargoyle among the stormy clouds.
“The Apothecary’s Poison. I need to make a list of ingredients for the potion.” Her stomach rumbled, and the friends laughed. “How long were we down there?”
Hugh consulted his pocket watch. “Most of the day. It will be dark soon.”
Kitty pushed Sera towards the entrance to the cemetery. “Let’s get moving then. I will do many things for you, Sera, but I’m not staying here after dark.”
Seven
Like a determined mother hen, Kitty chivvied them along the paths and back to the entrance of the cemetery. Hugh strode along the road to find them a ride back to the East End. While not a carriage, he found a merchant driving a wagon in that direction. They sat in the rear among crates and kegs for the journey.
Kitty passed the man a coin for his trouble when he stopped some distance from the pub. Then Hugh led the way through the maze of alleyways to the quiet intersection. As they stepped through the door of the Apothecary’s Poison, the now familiar aroma of ale, spiced meats, and unwashed bodies tickled Sera’s nostrils.
Elliot occupied their corner, a deep frown on his face as he kept glancing at the door, his shoulders tight. When he spied them, he let out a sigh and his lanky frame relaxed.
Sera grinned at him as they approached the table. “Admit it, you were worried.”
“Only because I didn’t want to be left with the bill. You lot have been gone all day. What happened?” He slid over to make room for Hugh as Kitty and Sera took the bench on the other side.
The low din of chatter provided a comforting backdrop as Sera leaned against the worn timber that formed the back of the bench seat. “Warin showed us the most amazing place, but it took some time to find what I needed.”
