Heretical Fishing

Book 2: Chapter 26: A Thrill



Book 2: Chapter 26: A Thrill

Book 2: Chapter 26: A Thrill

As Barry led the men further down the underground tunnel, Ellis sharpened his pencil violently. Keith, who had the unfortunate position of being behind the overeager archivist, batted ineffectually at the barrage of shavings flying his way.

“Good gods, Ellis—can you aim that elsewhere?”

“No time,” he replied, eyes focused on his pencil. He removed it, pocketed the sharpener, and immediately started writing again.

Barry smiled at his eagerness. They’d just come from the underground forest, and Ellis had spent a full fifteen minutes documenting every feature of the giant tree within it before his friends finally convinced him to keep moving.

Barry took a deep breath, knowing this next room was going to be a final test of sorts.

If they don’t agree with my methods... he thought, but then he shook his head, dismissing it. I can deal with that possibility when and if it comes to pass.

Barry’s steps slowed, and he came to a stop, spinning toward them.

“I have something to admit.”

“What’s that?” Ellis asked, not looking up from his frenzied writing.

“You aren’t the first group to come from the capital. Another royal came, Keith.” Barry turned and continued walking, making his way toward the door. “He was accompanied by two cultivators.”

“Don’t tell me...” Keith uttered.

Barry reached out, swung the door open, and stepped back. Keith rushed forward, peering out into the room.

“Finally!” came a nasally voice from within. “Where’s my desert? I was promised sweets!

***

Keith immediately recognized the voice, but as he spied the speaker, his mouth still went dry.

Trent—his eldest cousin and childhood tormenter—sat in a rich wooden chair. He fanned his face with a book, putting on an air of poise and dignity that looked ridiculous on him.

Keith fought to keep his face still.

“I didn’t think to find you here, cousin.”

At the words, Trent shot to his feet faster than Keith had ever seen him move. Even as a child, Trent had always been prodigiously pudgy, but he’d lost weight since last he’d seen him.

“Keith! Thank Poseidon’s slick shaft you’re here! Did father and uncle come?” Trent rose from the chair and lurched forward, grabbing the metal bars. He leaned closer, whispering. “They’re creating cultivators here, cousin. I hope you’ve brought a large retinue of the chained with you.”

“He knows what we’re doing, Trent,” Barry said, stepping into view.

The prince let out an eep and jumped back from the bars.

“Run, cousin! Make haste!” Trent took a deep breath, puffed out his chest, then bellowed. “Faaaather! I’m underground! I require assistaaaance!”

Theo peeked his head around the corner.

“He’s not too bright, is he, Keith?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“I’ve always found it fascinating,” Ellis mused, craning his neck to see past Theo. “That those of the same lineage can grow to have such contrasting dispositions.”

Trent stared at Keith, his face contorting in thought like a dog trying to work out whose tail it was chasing.

“Ah—I see.” He snapped his fingers and let out a facetious chuckle. “You’re a cultivator with the ability to shapeshift. Very clever, but not clever enough to fool the crown prince.” He narrowed his eyes at Barry. “Shame on you, coming down here and trying to use a man’s relatives against him.” He pointed at Ellis. “And who are you pretending to be? Some evil wizard of old? Jokes on you, pretender—I didn’t study the histories!”

Ellis watched him patiently.

“I’m well aware you didn’t study the histories, Prince. I don’t think you studied anything. If you had spent a second in your family’s archives, maybe you would know who I am.”

Keith rubbed his temples.

“Trent—when you were ten years old, you got your head stuck in a vase when trying to lick the last vestiges of syrup from its wall. You wouldn’t let us get help and we had to break it for you to escape. You cried—a lot.”

The prince’s head darted up to stare at his cousin with wide eyes.

“Poseidon’s sweaty sack—it’s really you! Hang on a Hades’ damned second! You swore an oath to never tell that to anyone!”

“Under duress of my head being squashed by your well-fed rump.”

Trent’s gaze shot toward Barry, to the rest of the men peering into the room, then back to Keith.

“Betrayer...” he whispered.

“That’s right,” Keith agreed. “I’ve betrayed the capital and the royal family.”

“H-how far does this plot go? Is this your father’s doing, finally coming for the crown? Oh, when my father the king catches wind of this, you’ll be sorely—”

Keith closed the door, cutting off Trent’s impassioned speech.

***

A tension he hadn’t realized was there melted from Barry’s back. Before he could make his thoughts known, Keith spoke up.

“I’m assuming this was one last test of our allegiance?”

Barry made a so-so gesture.

“I wouldn’t call it a test, but I did need to see how you would react to his imprisonment. It doesn’t bother you?”

“By itself, no, but I do have a question for you.” Keith’s face turned serious, and an almost physical pressure exerted itself on the surrounding hallway. “Do you plan to torture him?”

“Reasonable question. I’ll answer bluntly—no. We’ve been extracting information from him in exchange for sweet treats, and we plan on eventually bringing him over to our side.”

A silence stretched through the corridor, only marginally interrupted by the muffled, indignant yelling of Trent from the other side of the door.

“For what it’s worth,” Theo said, “both of you are telling the truth.”

Keith nodded, and Barry smiled.

“I’m glad to hear it. Let’s continue, then.”

When Ellis read the plaque set beside the next door, he let out a hiss of air. He lunged forward, grabbed the handle, and threw the door wide. His body stood rigid as his eyes scanned the room beyond.

Barry gave him an understanding smile.

“I had the same reaction when I saw that the library came without books.”

Ellis’s shoulders slumped, and his head hung.

“A true shame. I had hoped...”

“Me too, mate.”

Barry stepped inside and gestured for the others to follow him. The room’s walls were covered by lacquered shelves of dark wood; they stretched from the floor all the way to the high ceiling. On each wall, there were large ladders to allow the placement and retrieval of books.

“As with the other rooms, the air in this one appears to be magically altered. It’s dry and still, and if you spend any longer than a few minutes in here, your throat will start to sting.”

Ellis walked to one of the shelves and bent down, peering at the floor.

“Did you notice these, Barry?”

He walked over, looking down at the slits that ran along the length of each shelf.

“I did, yes. They seem to be where the air comes from.”

“It’s not just that,” Ellis said, using one of the shelves for support as he stood. “It’s creating positive pressure in this room. Are there other vents somewhere?”

Barry arched an eyebrow.

“There is. In the center of the room.”

Ellis shuffled over and bent at the waist, holding his hand above the vents there.

“Remarkable... dust won’t accumulate in this room. It’s perfectly acclimatized for the preservation of vellum, yet it didn’t come with any books.” He let out a bone-deep sigh, his body looking its age as he stood with great effort. “At least I’ll have a place to store the books I brought with me.” He turned to Barry, his eyes half-lidded and despondent. “Is there much more to see, Barry? I find myself ready for rest.”

“There are some more rooms, yes, but they’re mostly... well, you’ll see. We can make it quick.”

Giving Ellis an arm to lean on, he led the men from the room.

The next stretch of hallway consisted of five doors, and as Barry reached the first, he opened it. Beyond the door was... nothing, and Theo strode forward, touching the smooth stone.

“They lead to a stone wall? Why?”

“Couldn’t tell you,” Barry answered. “My best guess is that we can add more rooms, given time.”

He expected Ellis to comment that it was remarkable, astounding, or some other synonym for his amazement, but he merely watched, leaning on Barry for support.

“Alright,” Barry said. “Other than the mysterious doors to nothing, the rest are sleeping quarters and bathrooms. Let’s go straight there.”

***

After Barry’s departure, Theo looked around the room with unbelieving eyes. Ten luxurious beds lined the room, all of which were as opulent as the next. He ran his hands over the silk-smooth cover he sat on, unsure if he was dreaming.

“This is real, right?” Danny asked, doing the exact same thing with his hands on the next bed over.

Peter launched himself and crashed down on a pile of plush pillows across the room.

“Feels real to me! Gods, I’ve never had such an amazing shower. If it wasn’t so late, I may have slept under the running water.”

Theo couldn’t disagree; after weeks of travel, the shower had been an unexpected yet welcomed relief. He glanced over at Ellis. The former archivist was already asleep, snoring peacefully in the furthest bed. Pete followed his gaze and grimaced.

“I’m sure he’s alright...”

“He got worse while we were traveling. He did well to hide his sickness from us for so long, but it’s hard to ignore when someone coughs up blood...”

“Well,” Danny said, leaning back on his bed. “With any luck, he’ll ascend.”

Theo nodded.

“I’ll ask Barry about some of that sugarcane juice tomorrow. There’s no rush for us, but after seeing how weak Ellis got today, I’m more than a little worried.”

Peter and Danny grunted their agreement, and realizing he hadn’t heard from Keith in a while, Theo glanced his way—the royal was fast asleep.

Peter covered his mouth as a yawn escaped him.

“I suppose we should get some sleep too...”

“Aye,” Duncan agreed, throwing back his covers and climbing in.

As if listening in on their conversation, the flames set in the walls dimmed.

Theo slid between the sheets of his bed. His body rejoiced the moment he lay down, and before he knew it, his consciousness faded.

***

Theo opened his eyes. His mouth was dry, and he sat up, searching for something to drink. As his vision cleared, he took in the room around him. Everyone was asleep, their bedding crinkled and in various states of disarray.

He stood and walked for the door, intent on heading to a tap for a drink, when something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. In the far corner of the room, a dark form moved. Theo froze, staring at the blob of darkness hiding between Ellis’s bed and the wall. He tiptoed to Danny’s bed and shook the burly man. His larger friend opened his eyes immediately, and they locked onto Theo, who held a finger to his own lips.

Danny understood; he slipped his blanket aside silently and climbed to his feet. Theo gestured at the murky blob, and as Danny noticed it, his body tensed. The former guard crept forward, ready to deliver violence. As they got closer, a soft whispering sound came from the shape. Danny stilled, holding a hand up to stop Theo.

Theo looked between the dark mass and his muscular friend, not comprehending what was going through the latter’s mind. After a tense moment, Danny shook his head, let out a sigh, and walked forward, all of his stealth abandoned.

“What the hells are you doing, Ellis?” He reached down. “You scared the piss out of us.”

As Danny lifted the blanket covering their friend, the flickering orange light of a candle danced against the walls.

“Careful!” the archivist hissed. “I have an open flame and paper out!”

As soon as paper was mentioned, Theo realized what the whispering had been—the scratching of graphite on a pocketbook. He let out a relieved sigh.

“What are you doing, Ellis? You need your rest.”

Ellis spun on the spot with the agility of a gymnast.

“I don’t, actually.”

“Huh?” Danny said. “What are you talking about?”

Theo knew. His lifetime of training let him see the twinkle in Ellis’s eye, the speed with which he spun, the firm set of his shoulders, and the subtle changes to the muscles of his friend’s arms.

“You… you’re a cultivator. You awakened.”

Ellis beamed.

“An astute observation. I’ve been testing and documenting for the last few hours.” He clenched his fists and released them, staring down at the muscles of his forearms. “It feels rather good.”

Just then, something tugged at Theo, and words consumed his vision.

“No way…”

Beads of sweat sprouted as a thrill ran through him.

He blinked, rubbed his eyes, yet the words remained.

Please select a name.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.