Chapter 83: Sanctum VIII

Chapter 83: Sanctum VIII

Youve got to be kidding me, Jorra said.

Heatwaves shimmered up from what I can only describe as a desert. The cloud cover was perilously thin, but the heat that gathered at the top created a shimmering distortion, as if the thin patches of cloud were not so much hovering as they were floating, nested upside-down in still, shimmering pools. And this chamber was vast.

How are we doing on water? I asked aloud, unable to tear my eyes away from that strange, alien landscape.

Could be better. Maya opened a flap on Jorras backpack and pulled several overfilled skins. We are down to half. Decent enough. I would have been more sparing if I knew this was coming.

Worst-case scenario, I can supplement if were completely out, Jorra said grimly, But my magic will be weaker here, Im not sure how good Ill be in a fight.

Vogrin, I spoke down into the gap in my shirt, You said our followers were less than a day away and more or less keeping pace. Any chance theyve sped up?

The amulet pulsed once, cold. Uncertain.

Also, since you have been serving as our navigation, it would have been excellent to know we were walking into the second manifestation of the runic desert. No response, other than two chill pulses, which I took to mean that Vogrin didnt know what wed find.

Youre right, Bell called down from the top of a dune.

About what? I yelled up to her.

Come see! Bell waved at us.

Navigating the sharp-angle of the shadowed dune was tricky, and I would have fallen if Jorra hadnt kept a stabilizing hand to my back. I arrived alongside Bell, short of breath. Bell helped us up one by one, biceps stretching beneath her sleeve as she lifted us with little effort.

I stood atop the dune, not entirely sure what I was seeing. The sandy landscape was speckled with ruins. Things that had once been towers had fallen, broken and crumbled, half buried within the sand. On the segments of the constructions that showed, there were engravings I had only seen paintings of.

See? Bell said. Its like the runic desert.

Not like, I shook my head, If I didnt know where we were half a continent away, Id swear wed stumbled into it somehow.

Maya looked confused. Ive heard something of this. The sanctum is a place heavy with magic, where normal rules do not always apply. There are places down here that have always been here, as ancient as the earth itself. But there are other places that form as sort of reflections, mirrors to various places of power on the surface. Only this isnt right. This was supposed to be some underground chamber, a testing grounds. This shouldnt be here.

I dont like the look of whatever that is over there. Jorra pointed slightly behind us and to the side. I turned and looked. At first, it looked like a wall of black, barely visible in the horizon. As my eyes adjusted and gained focus the truth of it became much more apparent. Sandstorm.

We need to go back, I said, speaking at the same time as Jorra, who said something about us needing to go forward.

Guys, Bell said.

If we go back, Jorra said, focused on me, We risk running into those people following us. Theyll have magicians older than us, Cairn. And theres a lot of them.

If we dont go back, we risk being caught in that. And this chamber is a blank space on the map. Whos to say we dont risk being stuck here? I said, speaking calmly, trying to remain civil. We can take them.

Guys, Bell said.

I dont want to take them, Jorra said, looking appalled, Those are my folk, Cairn.

Theyre hunting us! I said, exasperated.

Maya stepped between us. We do not have time for this. We need to make a decision, quickly.

My amulet burned, suddenly. A warning. I whirled around, looking for the source of danger. It wasnt what I expected. Bells face was slack the skin around her face was pale, rather than red, and she teetered on the edge of the dune. Jorra was closer than I was. He dropped his bag, contents spilling on the sand, but he was just a bit too far away.

I reached out and called to the dry air around me, gathering mana and releasing it in a reflective burst. Jorra was in the way, directly between me and Bellarex. What followed next was almost entirely instinct. As I had when I used the raw, elemental wind to gather and direct the powders in my alchemical pouch, I reached out towards the small, almost invisible burst of wind and attempted to move it.

It curved, circling around Jorra and slamming into the small of Bellarexs back, knocking her forwards. She still fell, but forwards, into the more gradual decline of the dune. But for some reason, she didnt catch herself, slamming into the sand with a painful yelp.

Jorra rolled Bell onto her side. I knelt down beside her. Her breaths were short and shallow, indicating a deeper issue than a simple fall.

Whats wrong with her? Jorra said.

Im fine, Bell panted.

Maya pressed two glowing fingers to Bells neck. There is no damage or physical ailments other than some scrapes along her hands and knees. It is almost like she is shit. Maya looked up at me. She is acclimating.

It took a second for me to place the term. When I did, it took me back to the approach to the sanctum. What had Irtek said? Youll be fine for now, not so fine later? Thoth had interfered and wed had to leave camp, unable to finish that particular conversation. Bell started to curl up, and Maya and I forced her to stretch out.

I wiped a layer of dust covering the emblem at the center, and smiled.

----

The three infernals watched in muted curiosity as I walked back to the group with a collection of four bottles under my arm.

What is it? Maya asked.

Im so glad you asked. I grinned. I present to you, a solution to our water shortage.

Maya rolled her eyes, probably already knowing where this was going, but Bell and Jorra were thoroughly confused.

They keep water in bottles? Bell asked.

It looks more like booze. Jorra commented.

I pointed at him. Not exactly, but close. We have our share of legendary distributors in Whitefall. Oteron, god of beers. Kivasir, the patron saint of tobacco. I shifted the label of one of the bottles towards them, so they could see it. And then, there is the story of the Naisen monks.

And theyre legends? Jorra asked.

Dont worry, Maya said, hell tell you.

I pointed at her, unwilling to let my good fortune be spoiled. That I will. Thousands of years ago, the Naisen monks took up residence in the Runic desert, hundreds of miles away from any vice or pleasure. There are rumors that theyre something other than human, but thats likely nothing more than rumor and hearsay. Anyway. They lived in a desert. Like most monks, they made most of their money from scribing and other clerical works, but merchants charged exorbitantly for the food, so funding was a recurring issue. One day, a Naisen monk with a particularly green thumb who had, perhaps, not been completely prepared to give up the sins of the flesh, began to attempt cultivating plants with limited resources at his disposal. Nothing grew. Except a particularly hardy strain of grapes.

I could see eyes glazing over, except for Maya, who suddenly watched with interest.

Short version, then. A winery was born, and still exists to this day. The wine is delectable, and due to its hardy origin, can be stored in practically any climate. I finished, passed a bottle to each of them, then yanked the cork from mine. As I hoped, dark red liquid sloshed, some bubbles frothing across the top. It smelled delightful.

Ive never heard of anything like that, Maya said, inspect her bottle. There are rumors of libraries, and the occasional treasury, but nothing like this.

I suspect, I said, Based on the way these bottles are sealed and state of the ruins, this version of the runic desert is not actually that old. The Naisen monks started labeling and dating their bottles around a hundred-and-fifty years ago-

-He knows way too much about this. Jorra hid a smirk.

So you could have in your hands a two-hundred, three-hundred year Naisen red. I finished. For context. The last hundred-year-old bottle I heard of went for over fifty gold rods.

Jorra was about to take a sip when Maya cut in. We cant drink this in good conscience then. Jorra lowered the bottle from his lips.

Ah, but we can. We are in a survival situation, and there are ten more bottles back there. I held the bottle high. Cheers.

They were hesitant, but I waited, and eventually, everyone but Bell took a drink. That was probably for the best. Without knowing how void magicians acclimatized it was better to play it safe.

The chorus of sputtering and coughing lasted nearly a minute.

Is this what wine is? Jorra said, nearly gagging. Its awful. Like actually, legitimately awful.

Its more sour than anything Ive ever tasted, Maya sputtered.

I grimaced, mouth working, trying to get the foul taste out of my mouth. It tasted like the grapes had died in a pile of dirt only to be reanimated in some dark, foul ritual. Some part of my mind was trying to justify the proposed value I had just bragged about with the horrid, curt taste.

Grimly, despite the shouts of alarm from my companions, I lifted it to my mouth and took another sip.

Nope. Still horrible.

Why would you go back for more? Maya placed a palm on her forehead.

Questionable impulse control.

We talked well-into the night, the winds of the sandstorm roaring around us. The wine, while awful, was not completely unpalatable, and while Maya only took a few more sips of hers, Jorra and Bell had finished their respective bottles and were passed out on the floor. I joined them soon after, my vision hazy, exhausted and spent.

----

Gentle hands shook me awake.

Maya? I said, confused. Light was coming in from somewhere, aggravating my hangover. She held a hand over my mouth and I fell silent. Then she pointed upwards towards the window wed broken to enter through. There was the rhythmic sound of sand being shoveled. Someone had found us.