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The Mage's Grave Page 2
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Chapter Two
“Durima, come on” said Gujak's voice, echoing off the tall Walls. “We have to get moving. Master made it very clear that he wants us to complete the mission as quickly as we can, otherwise he'll be very angry, and you know what he does when he gets angry.”
Durima dug her claws into the icy rock that made up the Walls and grunted. She tried not to look over her shoulder at the hundreds of feet of rock that she had already scaled, as she knew she would get dizzy and if she got dizzy she would probably fall to her death, which would definitely anger Master.
So she focused on her partner, Gujak, who due to his light weight was far ahead of Durima. Looking more like a walking, talking tree than a katabans—also known as minor spirits that served the gods—Gujak was clinging to the Walls with his root-like fingers, looking down at her with an impatient expression on his face. He was only a couple dozen feet from the top of the Walls by now, but it was clear that he wasn't going to complete the treacherous climb until he was sure that Durima was right behind him.
It wasn't her fault that she wasn't as fast as he. Gujak was only a century old, but he acted half his age, whereas Durima was three centuries old, a veteran of the Katabans War, and still suffering from a stab wound in her right shoulder she had taken from an enemy during the War. Granted, the wound had healed, but every now and then pain in her shoulder would erupt, the pain so bad it sometimes immobilized her or made her flashback to the War.
Durima shook her head. Thinking about the War was guaranteed to bring back those old memories that she had done her best to ignore since the War's end twenty-four years ago. She had to focus on the present.
So she shouted at Gujak, “It will be fine. Master said he didn't expect us to complete the mission soon anyway. Just hold your horses. I'll be there eventually.”
Gujak frowned. “It sure would have been easier if we could have used something like that airship that flew by earlier to get up here, wouldn't it?”
Not understanding why Gujak chose to bring that up, Durima resumed climbing up the Walls, saying as she did so, “You mean that big, red noisy machine built by mortals? The one that was probably seen by every living thing in a fifty mile radius? Yeah, that would have been helpful for sneaking into the most heavily-fortified magical school in the world.”
“You know what I mean,” said Gujak. “And why are we climbing the Walls instead of using the ethereal to enter the school directly? That would have saved us hours of time, wouldn't it have?”
Durima finally caught up with Gujak and stopped to look at him. “Don't you remember? The mages have somehow blocked us katabans from using the ethereal to enter the school directly. I imagine only the gods can use it to enter, and since we aren't gods, we have to enter the old-fashioned way.”
“That's right,” said Gujak. “But how do you block the ethereal? I thought humans weren't even aware of it. Aside from that one Carnagian king, what's his name, Mal Lock or whatever?”
“I don't know,” said Durima, shaking her head. “You think I have time to keep track of all of those mortal kings and what they do or don't know about us? Anyway, we've almost reached the top. If we're in such a hurry, like you said, then we don't have time to sit around and talk.”
“You're right,” said Gujak. He looked back up at the top of the Walls, which were not very far away now. “Follow me.”
Gujak immediately resumed climbing, moving as nimbly across the icy, rock surface of the Walls as a mountain goat. Durima followed, although she had to move more slowly because a powerful gust of ice-cold wind blew through, which threatened to dislodge her due to her massive bulk.
As they climbed, Durima reviewed the reason their Master—the deity known as the Ghostly God, God of Ghosts and Mist—had sent them to the mortal school known as North Academy. She felt it was important to review now that they were so close to their goal, as it would be easy to forget why they were climbing the Walls in the first place due to the sheer difficulty of the climb.
Master had sent them here for a simple reason. The school, due to the fact that it was so remote and separate from the rest of mortal civilization, had its own graveyard, which, as Durima understood it, was where students and teachers who died there were usually put to rest. Master had told her and Gujak to search for the grave of some mortal named Braim Kotogs, which they were supposed to dig up, and then leave once they found it, but without letting the mortals know that they were there.
Why Master wanted them to do that, Durima didn't know. The Ghostly God, after all, was not the God of the Grave. He dealt with what happened after the body was buried, not before. Then again, Master had been acting stranger than usual lately. For example, in the last couple of months he had taken as a pet a giant, purplish-black snake that he called 'Uron,' which never left his side. That was an odd move because Master had never struck her as the type to keep or even want a pet, but she had not questioned the move at the time because she knew better than to question Master's actions, no matter how illogical they may have seemed to her.
Gujak had noticed how strangely Master had been acting as well, but he questioned it even less than she. When Durima had admitted to him how puzzling it was for Master to take on a pet, he had brushed off her concern as nothing. She supposed it probably was, seeing as she had grown rather paranoid after the War and often read more into a situation or someone's actions than there really was.
Still, as Durima grabbed the edge of the Wall and hauled her bulky, bear-like body on top of it, she found herself thinking about Master's strange decisions anyway. He never did anything without reason, but what that reason was in this case, she had no idea.
Now that she and Gujak were on top of the Wall, Durima stood up to her full height, brushing the snow and ice off her shoulders as she did so. She could now see the entire layout of the school below, which was laid out in the bowl-shaped canyon made by the Walls, looking like a bunch of toy buildings from this distance.
That was when she noticed one of the buildings near the center of the campus grounds was on fire. She and Gujak had heard an explosion a couple of minutes ago, but it had never occurred to Durima to think that the explosion had been accidental on the mages' part. She saw dozens of mortal mages—most human, although some appeared to be aquarians—fighting to put out the flames and smoke, although a good chunk of the mages were apparently too surprised by the abrupt, sudden explosion to act, because they just stood by and watched as the other mages tried to put it out.
“What happened down there?” said Gujak, putting his hands over his eyes. “A spell gone wrong?”
“No idea,” said Durima, panting from the long climb. Her eyes focused on what appeared to be a small, enclosed graveyard behind the largest building all the way on the other side of the canyon. “It's a great distraction, though. We should take advantage of it and get down there to the graveyard before the mages recover and get their bearings back.”
“Good idea,” said Gujak. He looked around at the Wall beneath their feet. “Um, how do we get down there? Do we have to climb again?”
Durima scanned the Wall until she noticed a pathway leading down to the bottom of the valley. “That looks like a path we can take. Come on.”
Before either of them could take a step toward the path, however, Durima's enhanced hearing picked up the sound of metal scraping against ice. She stopped and looked around, but she did not see anything else on the Wall besides Gujak.
“Did you hear that?” said Durima, looking at her partner. “I thought I heard metal scraping against the ice.”
“I didn't hear anything,” said Gujak. “You're probably just imagining things. Let's—”
Without warning, something invisible slammed into Gujak's face. The blow knocked him flat off his feet and sent him sliding across the ice, almost off the edge of the Wall, but he stopped against a rock protruding out of the ice just in time. Of course, he was too dazed by the blow to get up.
“Gujak,” said Durima, tensing
as she looked around for their hidden attacker. “What was that?”
There was that sound of metal scraping against ice again, but it was far closer this time, almost right behind her. Durima ducked and felt the air of something heavy pass over her. She responded by whirling around and punching the spot in the air where she thought her assailant was.
It was a direct hit. Her massive fist struck something hard and metal, making a clanging sound that made her cringe. It was only for a moment, however, because in the next moment her fist was touching air and she heard something heavy crunching backwards across the snow and ice. She even saw its footprints now, which were large and clawed, but they were not much of a clue as to the creature's identity, whatever it was.
Durima wasn't about to let that thing get away, however, just because she didn't know what it was. Although she was no mage, Durima, like most katabans, did know a thing or two about magic, enough to be able to slam her fists into the ground and activate her geomancy.
The Wall rumbled under her feet as she searched for the stone she needed. She found it easily and channeled more energy into it. In her mind's eye, she saw the stone rising rapidly from within the walls and could even hear it breaking through the ice.
Then a massive fist-shaped stone pillar burst out of the Wall, sending chunks of ice and rock flying everywhere. The giant fist-shaped pillar bent forward and slammed into the invisible creature, creating another loud clanging noise that made Durima cringe again.
This time, she must have hit it hard enough, because the creature's form flickered for a moment before its invisibility melted away, revealing the strangest 'creature' that Durima had ever seen in her life.
From head to toe, the creature was completely metal. It was not some kind of animal wearing metal armor; it was literally constructed out of metal, similar to the automatons used by the Mechanical Goddess in the southern seas. It looked like an upright lizard, using its front legs to hold back Durima's giant stone fist. Its tail whipped through the air so fast that it was almost impossible to follow, while its eyes glowed yellow. Its 'skin' was serrated and had what appeared to be open vents on its stomach, though what those vents could be used for, Durima didn't know.
Nor did Durima know why the North Academy mages had an automaton apparently acting as the school's bodyguard. She had thought only the Mechanical Goddess had access to such tech, but then she supposed that it didn't really matter because the machine was trying to kill them and would kill them if Durima and Gujak didn't kill it first.
So much for a stealthy entrance, Durima thought as she put more focus and energy into the stone fist. Might as well have walked right into the school itself and shouted, 'Hey, we're going to desecrate the grave of one of your fellow mages and then leave, if that's all right with you.'
She could feel the pressure of the stone fist bearing down on the lizard-like machine. The automaton was much stronger than it looked, however, because it was holding its own against the stone fist, despite the increasing pressure of Durima's creation. Whoever had designed the automaton had obviously done a good job, much to Durima's frustration.
Still, even the best machine was no match for magic. She just needed to apply more pressure onto it and sooner or later the damn thing would fall apart. Of course, that might be noticed by the mages, which would undoubtedly put a dent in her and Gujak's plans, but right now Durima didn't have the time or energy to worry about that, not when there was this mechanical monster that needed to be crushed.
So Durima poured more magical energy into the fist, making it stronger and stronger. She knew that she was getting weaker, but she didn't think it would be very long before the automaton broke first. After all, magic always won against mortal technology, no matter how good it was.
Much to her astonishment, however, a drill popped out of the automaton's forehead. The drill looked too small to be able to do much, but the automaton slammed its head into the stone fist anyway. It actually managed to move the fist back a few feet before Durima reasserted her dominance and began pushing back again.
That was when Durima noticed the cracks beginning to form in the fist's surface. The cracks started out small, but grew larger and larger with each passing second, until the fist was beginning to shake and shudder with repression. It occurred to Durima that the fist was going to explode, but before she could reinforce it with more magic, the stone fist did just that.
Chunks of rock flew everywhere as the automaton staggered forward, pulled forward by the momentum of its attack. The drill was still spinning in its head, making a loud whining noise as the automaton fell on all four of its legs. Although the automaton was clearly incapable of feeling emotion, the way it looked at Durima made her think that it was glaring at her.
Damn it, Durima thought. Now might be a good time to run.
Not that she could act on that thought. The Ghostly God would be extremely displeased if Durima and Gujak returned now. No doubt he'd punish them both severely, maybe even kill them outright. She remembered how much he emphasized the seriousness of the importance of this mission and exactly what he said he would do to them if they failed.
Shuddering at the thought, Durima slammed her fists together and charged at the automaton, fists swinging through the air. The automaton charged at her, the drill in its head extending until it was almost as long as a sword.
Right before she crashed into the automaton, Durima launched herself into the air and brought both of her fists down on its back. She did it as hard as she could, putting every last ounce of her strength into this blow.
The automaton's back crumpled under the impact of her fists, causing the automaton itself to collapse under her weight. Durima then began pounding her fists into it, smashing through its thick metal coat, aiming for any spot that looked fragile and important. She even managed to tear out some wires, although when she grabbed them, they sent electrical jolts through her body that forced her to let them go.
But she still pounded away at the machine, which no longer moved underneath her. She wasn't even thinking as she slammed her fists into the same spot over and over again. She had lost complete control of herself and didn't even realize that the automaton was down for good until Gujak grabbed her shoulder and said, “Durima, stop. The machine is down. You can stop killing it now.”
When he said those words, it was like he had turned on a light switch in Durima's mind. Suddenly, she became more aware of her fists, which were bruised and bloody from all of the smashing. The cold wind nipped at the sensitive, cut-up skin of her fists and the smell of frozen metal mixed with her blood entered her nostrils.
Taking a deep breath, Durima ceased pounding away and looked at Gujak. Aside from the dent in his face from where the automaton had hit him, he looked as fine as ever, although he must have been lying prone for longer than Durima had thought because he now had a thin layer of ice covering his chest and there were little piles of snow in the nooks and crevices of his tree-like body.
“What happened?” said Gujak. He put his hands on his chest. “Were you destroying that machine because you really, honestly cared that much about me?”
The honest answer was no, but Durima was too tired to respond. She just stared at the broken machine that lay underneath her, trying to figure out what had come over herself.
It's been a long time since I last attacked anything quite like that, Durima thought. Since the Katabans War, actually.
Now it all made sense to her. Her war instincts had kicked in, or what she called 'the Demon.' It was a side of herself that she had discovered during the War, one that she rarely entered consciously or willingly. The Demon came out whenever she was under great stress. It made her violent, mindlessly so, and mercilessly cruel to whoever was unlucky enough to be the object of her wrath when she became the Demon.
It had been years since she had last became the Demon. She had done her best to avoid getting into high stress situations and had been so successful at that that she realized she must have forg
otten the Demon even existed.
Gujak knew about the Demon because Durima had a reputation as the Demon leftover from the War. Still, the poor naïve fool didn't seem to grasp that he had just witnessed that side of herself take over.
He's lucky he didn't get in the way, Durima thought. Otherwise, he would have ended up looking just like this automaton, except bloodier.
Standing up, Durima held up her fists as she said, “It's not a problem. You know some healing magic, yes? Could you heal my fists for me?”
“Sure thing,” said Gujak, touching her fists with his hands. “Here we go.”
A brief flash of light emitted where Gujak's hands met Durima's fists. When the light faded, Durima's fists were whole again, although they were still covered in the blood from earlier. Sadly, she didn't have a towel to wipe with, so she wiped her fists on her fur instead.
“Thanks,” said Durima to Gujak. “That was—”
“Hold it right there, invaders,” said an obnoxiously loud voice, causing Durima and Gujak to look up in surprise. “Don't move a muscle or I, the great Junaz, will blow you both to the Heavenly Paradise!”
Standing not far from them was a human mage, a male one by the broad size of his shoulders and the deepness of his voice. He wore completely black robes that went down to his ankles, with equally black boots poking out from underneath them. He had a shock of golden brown hair peaking out from behind some kind of wooden mask that resembled a fox's face.
The mortal mage was aiming a wand at them, which was painted silver, like he was going to do exactly as he said if they did not obey his commands.
“Durima, who is that?” Gujak muttered, looking at the strangely-dressed man like he had never seen anything quite like him before.
Durima shook her head and replied, in a similarly low voice, “No idea. Never seen him before.”
“Conspiring among yourselves?” said the man who had called himself Junaz. “Cease that deceptiveness at once, you fiends. For I, the great Junaz, will shine a light on whatever darkness you are trying to hide in.”
“I think he's crazy,” said Gujak. “Definitely crazy.”
It was hard to tell Junaz's expression, but he did tilt his head to the side and say, “What language do you speak? Sounds like clicks and whistles to me.”
Of course. This Junaz—whoever he was—was a mortal, and few mortals understood the language of the katabans, although most katabans understood the human version of Divina well enough. Durima had never heard a mortal describe it that way, however.
“I suppose it doesn't matter,” said Junaz, shaking his head as the tip of his wand began to glow. “Do you two know who I am? I am the great Junaz, devoted follower of Nimiko, the God of Light, and the luminimancy teacher at this great school. In addition, my knowledge of the mechanical arts is second-to-none at North Academy and I have personally worked on the great armadas that patrol the skies of Shika.”
None of that meant anything to Durima, although she knew who Nimiko was, having done a few small tasks for him over the centuries. She doubted that would make Junaz leave them alone if she told him, however, because she was under the impression that, like most mortals, he was too stupid to understand when he wasn't wanted.
“Why is he wearing a fox mask?” Gujak asked, taking a step back as if he was afraid of the strange mortal. “Is he trying to hide something?”
Durima shrugged. “You think I'm an expert in human behavior?”
Then Junaz gestured with his wand at the destroyed automaton. “Do you know what you did? That was once Guardian, a gift from King Malock himself, which acted as one of the school's many, many defenses. It had been my job to maintain Guardian—as I said, I was once a top engineer in the Shikan air force—and now you have ruined it for no reason I can see other than it was doing its job.”
“It tried to kill us,” Durima muttered, although she didn't expect this Junaz character to understand, or if he did, to care.
“The only reason I came out here today, despite the current crisis in the Third Dorm, is because I sensed that Guardian was fighting intruders and was losing,” said Junaz. “It appears my senses were correct. As always.”
“Does he ever stop talking?” Gujak wondered. “You know, we probably could walk away very slowly and he might not notice until we're actually gone.”
For one, Durima agreed with Gujak, while Junaz was still speaking. “I don't know who you two are, or for that matter, what you two are, but I do know this: You both are clearly up to no good. I will capture you both so you may not succeed in whatever wrongdoing you are planning.”
Durima snorted. This pathetic, tiny human was going to try to bring her and Gujak in? Sure, Durima was still tired from fighting the Guardian, as Junaz called the hunk of junk she had just finished tearing apart, but she knew how squishy and fragile humans could be. That Junaz wore a fox mask, of all things, only added to her incredulity at his confidence in his ability to defeat them.
Standing up, Durima said, “Then bring it, Fox Mask. Or are you just all hot air, like most humans tend to be full of?”
Of course Junaz didn't understand a word she said, but he said anyway, “I don't know what you just said or if you said anything at all, but enough idle chitchat. Prepare to be defeated, monsters.”
Junaz did a bunch of complicated movements with his wand, almost like a swordsman slashing with his sword. He did the movements so quickly that Durima could barely follow, but she didn't need to see what he did in order to see the results.
A burst of light—brighter and hotter than any Durima had seen before—erupted from his wand. It hurtled across the Wall toward them and slammed into both Durima and Gujak before they could move.
It was like being hit with a sledgehammer. And like being hit with a sledgehammer, Durima immediately lost consciousness.
***