Henrik Saetre
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Qing's Quest book 2, Chapter 26: A new hope
🕑 Added 2024-03-19 10:21:43 +0000 UTCQing felt the energy building inside the surrounding corpses, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. No way to counter all five. They would blow and splatter him against the walls. He’d come so close to the exit. A sadness welled up as he thought of the screen in the sky at home. His family would have to watch him get blown apart. It would break meimei’s heart, and Cleo would be sacrificed, and…
Qing dove towards the doorway. He’d never make it out, but maybe he didn’t. In the split second before the spell finished, he triggered Petra’s Tear, his amulet, spawned from Cleo’s mother. When activated, he felt a sense of direction. He’d have to choose where the shield would face, and he angled it behind him, towards the bodies.
The corpses exploded, and Qing was thrown forward, propelled by the shield. His foot clipped the door’s frame, snapping, and he twisted in mid-air to slam into the railing. Ears ringing, he couldn’t move, but he felt energy around him. Wazir gathered death energy for another attack, but the shield was active. Only a moment had passed. He tried to move. To get away from the doorway, but his body wouldn’t react.
There was something he needed to do. A spell he should cast. Somewhere he had to go. But his brain was all cotton, and his vision black.
Suddenly, something cold and sweet entered his mouth, and he inhaled in shock, before coughing, trying to get it out. His hands waved weakly, but were slapped away, and his mouth forced shut. He swallowed, desperate to clear his airways. Then the panic receded, as he felt his bones heal and the taste of strawberries spread. A health potion.
Sight and sound returned as his most grievous wounds healed. Screams filled the air, together with the twang of a bow and the cracks of a whip.
“Up! We’ve got to go!” said Knut.
He’d recognized that voice anywhere.
But energy still gathered within the apartment.
How long has passed?
Qing flinched and squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Wazir cast Bone Needle Volley, expecting pain to flare across his body once again, but the shield held, and the needles clattered harmlessly against it. Qing looked into the apartment. It was like looking through a see-through plastic umbrella, angled towards Wazir, yet it had held back a tremendous amount of damage. The grand vizier glared at him. It seemed connected to Qing, as it had pushed him out with the explosion, and he felt it disintegrate.
He rolled from the opening, breaking line of sight and clambering to his feet, taking stock. Rufus’ apartment had been in the corner, and both the left and right walkways were choked with palace guard soldiers, standing in thick ranks, shields-layered and spears lowered, moving inexorably closer. Knut faced those on the left, their shields riddled with arrows. As Qing watched, an arrow slipped through their defences, and a man screamed. But a new shield filled the hole before Knut could fire again. But downing one was like spitting on a wildfire.
Can we jump?
Qing looked below, and maybe they could swing into the walkway below, but there were soldiers waiting. And if they pushed them off, the drop to the ground might not kill them, but it would break every bone in their legs.
Not that way.
On Morgana’s side, there were slightly fewer soldiers.
“This way,” Qing called, and sprinted towards them. If he could break their formation, maybe they could force their way through.
“Any windows in the apartment?” Knut asked, as he leapt past the open door, loosing an arrow in, forcing the mages back.
“None we could exit,” Qing said. “We are too deep in the palace. Only way out is to—”
An apartment door opened between them and the guards. “Come quick,” a female voice said. There was something familiar about it.
Morgana cracked her whip, again and again, tearing through spears, splintering shields, biting into calves. Qing sprinted in, followed by Knut, but saw no one. The apartment was just another luxurious guest room similar to that of Rufus, but it looked uninhabited.
“Hello?” Qing said.
“Here,” the voice called. It came from the alcove with the bed. He rushed forward and saw the bed had pivoted sideways and a part of the wall stood open. Waiting for them there, torch in hand, was Princess Ghida. She looked down at him, her dark eyes urgent. “Close that door and hurry inside,” she said. “Push the furniture against it.”
Qing nodded and grabbing the desk off the floor. Morgana pivoted into the room, rolling along the door, snapping the whip with her as spears flashed by. She slammed the door shut, and Qing placed the desk against it. Knut followed with a heavy chest, before Qing wedged the two sofas against it.
“Now what,” Morgana said, “we’ve trapped ourselves.”
“Not quite,” Qing said with a smile and nodded inwards. Morgana stalked through the room, freezing as she spotted the secret path and the person standing there.
“What? Who? Why?” she said.
“No time now. We must go,” Ghida said. “That will not keep them long.” She descended into the darkness, and Qing followed, turning his light to the maximum brightness.
The secret passage was just wide enough for him to walk normally without his shoulders touching, and he fought to keep claustrophobia at bay. They were in a tight spiralling staircase, and he had unequipped his axe. There would be no space to swing it here, anyway. His gauntlets would work better. Then he reached out and trailed the palms of his hands against the stone walls as they descended, as if he could push them away in case of collapse.
Behind him, Morgana walked close, one hand on her whip, the other tracing through the air, close to the walls but never touching, eyes scanning as if to look for traps.
“I’m in,” Knut said from behind. “Close the door.”
The princess paused and held up a hand. Qing felt a disturbance in the air, and then a rumble came from above, followed by a muted slam, as the door slid shut, sealing them in.
She must be a mage.
Relief settled over Qing’s shoulders as the door closed behind him. They had escaped for now. But a tight ball of tension still sat deep in his stomach. The air was cool yet musty, and filled with the scent of stone untouched by the sun for centuries.
Maybe with her help, we can still save Cleo.
He took a deep breath, calming himself for the storm that would surely come. At the bottom of the stairs waited a crossroads, eight tunnels leading out.
“This is a maze,” he said.
The princess waited patiently, her presence commanding. She nodded.
“You are quite right, Qing. It is a maze, one which I am familiar with. I am Princess Ghida, and although there is little time, if we work together, we may yet save what is dear to us both.” Her voice held a calm authority. Not that of a spoiled rich second-generation kid who had never grown past the child stage, but more like an actress who knew the power of her beauty and renown.
“Where are they keeping Cleo?” Qing asked.
“Come,” she said. “We must leave. We may talk as we walk.” She set off down a pathway, seemingly unconcerned about the dust her dress gathered as it brushed against the walls. “Who is Cleo?” she asked.
“A young girl, blonde, kidnapped by Rufus Grimshaw. He using her to summon the Devil to destroy the world.”
Ghida froze in her steps, turned, and stared at him. He held her gaze unflinchingly. He’d never be able to do so back on Earth. She was too gorgeous.
“You’re serious,” she said. “That is worse than I feared.” She continued, leading them through the corridors, seeming to pick them at random, but surely there was a rhyme and reason to it. “I do not know of Cleo, but this Rufus I have seen. A distasteful man.”
“Why are you helping us?” Morgana said.
“Our paths align. Wazir poison to my family, and the nobles are in his pocket or too scared to stand up. At this point, I’m not even sure my father would care if Wazir ordered me flayed.” She walked on in silence for a few moments, caressing a locket hanging on her chest. “Something is wrong with my father. Wazir is behind it. I am sure.”
“What do you want from us?” Morgana asked.
Ghida turned, eyes blazing. “I saw what you did to that vampire…” Hunger obvious in her voice, and her face twisted into a grimace. “We can help each other. I still have some friends here in the palace. They warned me of your intrusion and of the trap Wazir had set.”
“Help each other how?” Qing asked.
“Where are you taking us?” Knut asked.
Ghida set off again, ignoring Qing’s question. “I lead you to an exit. For now, you must escape. Tomorrow, we meet in the Zylphadian library, elementalist section. We may talk there in peace.”
“We cannot leave now,” Qing said. “We have to—”
“You have no choice.”
“But these paths, surely one must lead to Rufus?”
“Or the prison,” Knut added. “Our friend is imprisoned there. Jenny. What do you know of her situation?”
“Killing Rufus is as crucial for the safety of your kingdom as dealing with Wazir. Believe me,” Qing said.
Ghida’s brown curls moved in waves as she shook her head. “The maze is massive. I do not know it all, nor do I know where he is. And even if I did, we—”
An explosion filled the air, and the princess shrieked as dust and warm air enveloped them. Qing reached out and grabbed her arm, holding her steady.
“I think they know where we are,” Morgana said, tone dry.
“Quick, this way.” Ghida jogged, heels clacking against the stone, one hand still holding aloft the torch, one hand holding her skirts aloft.
They darted down the narrow corridor, then left, right, up a set of stairs, and into crossroads with four exits. They headed straight, to a t-fork, and went left. But shouts filled the air, commands called, boots tramping. Sounds moved weirdly in the maze, and it felt like they were surrounded. As they headed right at another crossing, Ghida screeched to a halt as torchlight flickered ahead, and she pushed against Qing’s chest.
“Back!”
They headed straight instead.
“They’re gaining,” Knut said. “Where’s the exit?”
“I... I do not know,” Ghida said. “This is not the planned path.” She was sprinting now.
“We cannot fight them in these corridors,” Morgana said with a snarl. “They’ll overrun us with numbers. Without an exit, we’re doomed.”
Suddenly, they came to a dead end, but Ghida ran her hand up and down, back and forth, in front of the wall. It rotated on an axle, letting them slide past.
“Unshaven camel balls!” she said. “I don’t know how to get to the exit from here.” She turned and met Qing’s gaze.
“Thank you for trying,” he said with a sigh, and started limbering up. “If they think we’re going down easy, they are in for a big surprise. If they can’t get mages in here, we might buy the time needed to find the exit.”
“You misunderstand,” she said. “I will get you out. But I did not want to use this yet.” She sighed. “It was my only hope.” She took out a scroll, and Qing gasped. He’d seen such a scroll once before in, Rosewood Forest’s cemetery. A scroll of Astral Transport. A sapphire blue portal opened, covering the entire width of the passageway.
“You first,” Qing said, but the princess shook her head.
“No. I cannot leave. If I do, any power I yet retain will be lost. Once you leave I’ll find my way out. While the guards fear the vizier, many are still loyal. And they won’t know for sure that it was I who...”
“Ghida, I know you are in here. Bring them to me or you will face the dragon!” Wazir’s scream reverberated through the tunnels.
Ghida’s face blanched, and she grabbed Qing’s arms, diving through the portal, pulling him along.
For a split second, he was both there and not there, snagged between moments. Then he felt the princess’ grasp disappear, and he lost himself in an all-encompassing void.
