The Mage's Grave by Timothy L. Cerepaka
Chapter Four
Durima's head hurt. Her arms hurt. Her legs hurt. Her back hurt. And every other part of her body hurt. Even worse, she could not remember why they hurt. They just did. Maybe they had always hurt and she was just realizing it now. She was getting on in years. Most katabans only lived to be five hundred, after all, although that may have been because most katabans got killed on missions for their gods or in some cases by the gods themselves. As a matter of fact, Durima did not know what the maximum age for a katabans was. She knew that the Katabans Council, the group who organized katabans society and enforced the rules all katabans followed, had several members who were older than five hundred and who seemed to be in good health still.
Maybe we don't die at all, Durima thought. After all, it's not like these are our actual bodies. These suits of flesh are nothing more than forms we take on whenever we have to enter the physical world, to be discarded or swapped out at will.
Then Durima shook her head and her memories came back to her. The automaton … the strange mortal … the flash of light that had hit her and Gujak with the force of a sledgehammer … it all came roaring back to her in an instant.
Her eyes flickered open and she saw that she was lying on the floor of what appeared to be a cave. Putting her left hand flat on the ground, Durima tried to find out where she was.
She sent a brief burst of geomancy into the earth, sort of like a sonar blast. Then the burst returned to her and she found out that she was still in North Academy's general area. Unfortunately, she was underground, deep underground if the signal was any indication, and she was apparently alone.
Sitting up, rubbing the back of her head, Durima looked around at her cell. It must have been designed for someone much shorter than her, because the ceiling was low over her head and the walls were too narrow for her liking. There wasn't much room for her to move and stretch, despite the fact that her arms and legs were not particularly long.
A set of tall, metal bars stood before her, the only thing standing between her and freedom. They looked old, even ancient. Though Durima was still in pain, she didn't see any reason she couldn't knock these bars out with one good punch from her fists. Then she could find Gujak and they could continue with their mission.
So Durima stood up as much as she could (although she had to crouch to avoid scraping her head against the ceiling) and walked over to the bars. Pulling back her fist, she slammed it directly into the bars as hard as she could.
To her encouragement, the bars actually bent inwards. They didn't break or go flying, but it was an encouraging sign, making her rear back again to punch it again.
Then, before her startled eyes, the bars began to fix themselves. Slowly but surely, the bars bent back to their original shape, leaving no sign at all that they had just been bent inward not one minute earlier.
“What the hell?” said Durima. “What is this? More mortal magic?”
“Durima?” said Gujak's voice, which sounded like it was coming from the cell next to hers. “Are you awake?”
“Yes,” said Durima, not bothering to hide the frustration in her voice. “You as well?”
“Yep,” said Gujak. “But my head hurts. I think I took the brunt of that strange mortal's attack.”
“I'm willing to bet that you didn't,” said Durima. “But it doesn't matter. How long have we been down here?”
“I don't know,” said Gujak. “There aren't any windows or anything to let the sun shine in, so I don't know what time it is or how many hours have passed or anything. I've just been sitting here in the dark for a while trying to think of a way to escape.”
“Have you tried using the ethereal?” Durima asked.
“The ethereal doesn't go down here,” said Gujak. “Trust me, if it did, I would have gotten out of here long ago.”
Durima cursed. Of course. She had forgotten that the ethereal—that second plane of existence accessible only to gods and katabans—did not, for whatever reason, extend underground. It only allowed people traveling upon it to appear on the surface. Why this particular limitation existed, she didn't know, but she suspected that the Powers must have built it into the ethereal when they were laying the foundations of Martir eons ago.
“It doesn't matter,” said Durima. “I think we'll be able to get out of here pretty easily. Human-made prisons are almost always designed for humans, not katabans like us.”
“There's something different about this one, though, Durima,” said Gujak. “The magic here is stronger than the average human prison. I think there are a bunch of spells keeping us in, even if we can't see or sense them. Did you see what happens when you dent the bars?”
Durima scowled. “Yes. I just found that out for myself.”
“There might be other ones like that around here,” said Gujak. “Maybe even worse. I've heard rumors of mortals casting all kinds of terrible spells on the places that they want to keep others out of. I don't want to get blown up or turned inside-out.”
“Mortal magic is weak and ineffectual,” said Durima. “It's only a pale imitation of godly magic, after all. If it was so great, mortals wouldn't even bother with non-magical ways of dealing with their problems.”
“If you say so,” said Gujak. “Still doesn't get us out of here, though.”
“That's because I will get us out of here,” said Durima. “Just hold tight for a moment. I've been in worse situations before.”
That was perfectly true. During the Katabans War, Durima had once been captured by enemy soldiers. They had tossed her into a deep pit, with slimy, unclimbable walls, where they had left her to die. She had managed to escape by using her geomancy to create a pillar of stone that rose from the pit, but it had still been quite the bleak situation at the time.
“But … what about Master?” said Gujak. “He probably knows that we were captured. Do you think he'll punish us for taking so long?”
Durima shuddered. “No doubt. Master has never been particularly forgiving of failure. That just gives us all the more reason to get out of here.”
“Do you think he'll put us in the Mind Chamber?” said Gujak, his voice almost panicking. “I can't handle the Mind Chamber again. Just that one time was enough. I don't know how you managed to handle it five times.”
A primal fear rose in Durima's chest when she thought about the Mind Chamber, forcing her to repress her memories to avoid losing control. She needed her wits about herself if she and Gujak were going to get out of here at all.
“Let's try to think positive thoughts for now,” Durima said. “If we get out of here speedily, Master might be willing to forgive us for our failure or at least lighten our punishment. Maybe he will just take away our meals for today.”
“I hope that's all he does,” said Gujak.
She didn't like his bleak tone because it was making her nervous. So she decided to focus on the situation at hand, to be totally in the present, as she had learned to do during the War. It was the only way she'd get out of here.
At least there isn't any slime here, Durima thought, tapping the ground with her foot. Maybe I can dig my way out.
Before she could test that idea, the sound of footsteps—at least three sets of feet, hard to tell with the way they echoed off the narrow tunnel walls—filled her ears. She looked to the left at the rock wall that separated her cell from Gujak's, but it wasn't until a bright white light began to shine down the hallway outside the cell that Durima realized that someone was coming to visit them.
She backed up against the back wall, waiting for whoever was coming. Reaching out with her magic senses, Durima sensed three magical presences. One was a normal mortal mage, but the other two practically dwarfed his power. They weren't quite on the same magical level as the gods, but they were far stronger than that of any other mortal she had felt before. In fact, these two presences were so powerful that they even dominated Durima and Gujak's combined power.
What kind of mortals are these? Durima thought. I didn't know mortal mage
A minute or two later, the three mortal mages stood in front of her cell. One was Junaz, who was the owner of the average magical energy level. He still wore that strange fox mask. He was also the source of the light, which shone like a star on the tip of his wand.
The other two mages, then, were the sources of the supreme magical presences she had felt. One was an old human, very old based on the grayness of his skin. He leaned on a tall staff that resembled an unusually long mage wand, but despite his old age, he radiated so much power that Durima knew he was not the kind of person you messed with.
The other one standing next to him was a female aquarian who appeared just as old as the elderly human. Like the old human, the old aquarian radiated a powerful magical presence that left no doubt as to her power level and energy. The two of them together were almost enough to match the magical presence of a god.
But for all that, Durima had no idea who either of those two mages were. They were clearly important, probably authority figures of some kind, but she paid so little attention to the mortal world that she did not know how important or well-known they were. Unlike Junaz, they were wild cards, which gave her even more reason to tread lightly.
Then, much to her astonishment, the old human spoke in perfect Godly Divina. “You and your friend are katabans, yes?”
Durima was so surprised that she had to say, “Yes, we are. How can you speak Godly Divina so perfectly? I know you mortals can speak in your bastardized version of Divina, but I thought you mortals were incapable of speaking the divine tongue.”
The old man smiled. “I am the Magical Superior of North Academy. The gods prefer to speak with me in their own tongue, so I learned it. Yorak here also knows it, but alas, Junaz does not, so he has no idea what we're saying.”
Durima already knew that Junaz, who appeared baffled by what to him was an incoherent conversation of nonsense and gibberish, didn't know Divina, but knowing that the old female aquarian did just made the situation that much more difficult. She had thought she might be able to fool the human, but with that old aquarian there—who had the eyes of a hawk—she began to doubt her own abilities.
“Wait,” said Durima, squinting at the Magical Superior. “You are the famous Magical Superior of North Academy, one of the strongest mortal mages in all of Martir?”
“Indeed,” said the old human. “The one and only. And this is Yorak, the Archmage and Grand Magus of the Undersea Institute, also a powerful mage in her own right, equal in power to my own.”
“I've heard about both of you,” said Durima. “You are the two most famous mortals in the katabans world due to your unique connections to the gods among your kind. I never thought I'd live to actually meet either of you. And to be honest, both of you are much older than the rumors suggested.”
“Enough chitchat,” said Yorak. She, too, spoke Godly Divina as fluently as the gods; in fact, Durima thought Yorak spoke it better than most katabans based on those two words alone. “We're here to find out why you two were caught trying to break into North Academy. What were you planning to do? Harm our students? Steal a treasure of important value? What?”
“We didn't mean it,” Gujak suddenly spoke up in a pleading tone. “Please don't kill us. We're not up to anything bad. Just let us go and we'll never bother you again ever.”
Durima cursed. This was another reason Durima didn't like being captured. Gujak was a coward of the highest order. More than once over the years he had broken down and pleaded for mercy from their enemies. It was also why she was grateful that Gujak had not been fighting at her side during the War. He would not have been able to handle the stress.
Junaz was looking at Gujak's cell with a puzzled expression on his face, no doubt wondering what the heck Gujak had just said, but the Magical Superior said, “Kill you? Why would we ever do that? We have captured you, which I think is punishment enough for now.”
“But that confession does offer us a glimpse into your true reasons for being here,” said Yorak with a smug smile on her face. “Why else would your friend blubber about us killing you two unless he knew that you two are up to no good? Tell us how you blew up the Third Dorm without having to be there. Do you have a spy among the students? Or was it some kind of magic?”
Durima frowned. She had no idea what the Third Dorm was, but she did recall seeing, from atop the Walls, one of the buildings on the campus grounds on fire. She figured that that had to be what the Archmage was talking about, but she was just as ignorant about its cause as Yorak was.
So Durima said, “I have no idea who started the explosion or why it happened. It would have been a great distraction if we hadn't been caught by fox mask there.”
She said that while pointing at Junaz. Junaz looked at the Superior and said, “Why is she pointing at me? Is she threatening me?”
The Magical Superior switched to the mortal tongue, saying as he did so, “No, Junaz, she is not threatening you or anyone else. She's just complaining about how you and Guardian managed to capture them.”
Through the slits in his mask, Junaz's eyes looked smug and satisfied. “Well, it was quite easy. Despite their obvious strength, these katabans stood no chance to my luminimancy. They didn't even put up a fight.”
Durima growled at him threateningly, seeing as she couldn't actually speak mortal Divina well enough to communicate her thoughts to him. Junaz shrank back the minute he heard her deep-throat growl, which was an amusing sight to Durima, causing her to chuckle.
“Jumpy one, aren't you?” said Durima to Junaz, even though she knew he couldn't understand a word she said. “Do you teach the students here how to run and hide from big scary monsters that could rip their heads off their shoulders?”
“Katabans, be quiet,” the Magical Superior said, a hint of a threat in his voice. “I will not have you scaring and threatening my teachers. I do not tolerate that kind of behavior from anyone in my school.”
Durima rolled her eyes, but said nothing else to Junaz. As much fun as it was to threaten and scare the dumb mortals, the Magical Superior's power level was so high that she knew better than to go against whatever he said. Any mortal who wielded that kind of power was the kind of mortal worth listening to, even for a katabans like her. She knew enough about power thanks to her relationship with Master to respect anyone who had more than her.
“Fine,” said Durima. “But that doesn't mean I have to respect him.”
“I'm not asking you to respect him or anybody else,” said the Magical Superior. “I am only asking you not to threaten him in my presence.”
“And why do you care?” said Durima. “The idiot can't even understand what I'm saying.”
“Because he is one of my teachers and I do not tolerate threats against my faculty,” said the Magical Superior, his voice hard. “Now, let's move on. What are your names?”
“Why do we have to tell you that?” said Durima. “Our Master told us not to tell anyone who we are or what we're doing here.”
“So you have a Master,” said the Magical Superior. “Who is this Master of yours? Why does he want you to keep your reason for being here a secret?”
“I will not tell,” said Durima, folding her arms across her chest. “I will never tell. I shouldn't have even told you that much.”
“No, keep talking,” said Yorak, gesturing at Durima to continue. “We're perfectly fine with you voluntarily telling us all about your Master and his plans. It suits our designs perfectly.”
“That is exactly why I am not going to talk about it anymore,” said Durima. “I fear Master more than you.”
“Your Master must be very powerful if you fear him more than us,” said Yorak. “The Superior and I are the two most powerful mages in the world. If we wanted, we could annihilate both of you without even thinking a
“But you won't,” said Durima. “Otherwise, you would have done that already, rather than toss us into a couple of tiny cells deep beneath the earth.”
“Don't push your luck,” said Yorak. “I am not in a good mood right now and I am more than willing to do whatever I need to in order to find out who is threatening the lives of my students and the Superior's students.”
“Calm down, Yorak,” said the Magical Superior, putting a hand on her shoulder. “The katabans is correct that we are not going to kill her. While I am no fan of either of these two, killing them would undoubtedly bring the wrath of their Master upon us, their Master who in all probability is a god himself.”
Durima saw an opening and went for it. She wrapped her claws around the bars of her cell and said, “Yes, Master is a god. A powerful god, too, one who could easily crush you mortals underneath the heel of his boot. I will not reveal his identity to you, but I will tell you that if you respect the gods at all, you will let me and my friend go free so we may complete the mission that we came here to do.”
She said that because Durima understood that these mages, more than any other kinds of mortals, respected the gods. Magic flowed from the gods like water from an underground spring. The only reason these mages could use magic at all was because they had devoted themselves to this god or that god. Mages were not known as the People of the Gods for no reason. By playing on the mages' inherent respect—and by extension, fear—for the gods, Durima was practically guaranteed to win her and Gujak their freedom without much work.
It's such a brilliant plan, Durima thought. Why didn't I think of it earlier? Would have been far more effective than insulting and threatening a dumb mortal who can't even understand what I'm saying.
Her grin faded when the Magical Superior shook his head. “No.”
“No?” said Durima, her grip on the bars lightening. “But … you respect the gods. Aren't you afraid of displeasing my Master? He will not be at all happy to learn that you are getting in the way of his will.”
“I understand exactly what might happen if I continue to refuse to let you go,” said the Magical Superior. “But this is not the first time I have defied the gods. I feel like too much has happened with too few answers to trust that you two are not up to any wrongdoing.”
“By accusing me and my friend of being up to no good, you are accusing our Master of being up to no good as well,” said Durima. She brought her face closer to the bars, glaring at the Magical Superior. “Are you sure you want to imply that a god could possibly be at fault? That's dangerous territory, you know.”
The Magical Superior returned her gaze with a strong one of his own, despite his weak human body, and said, “My loyalty is first and foremost to the students of my school, who I have sworn to protect and defend at all costs. If your Master truly is a good god and has no ill intentions for us, then I will free you two personally. For now, you must stay there.”
“We still won't talk,” said Durima. “Neither of us will. You cannot make us.”
“I won't,” said the Magical Superior. “Neither will Yorak or Junaz. Instead, I will go and find out myself who your Master is and what he is planning to do here.”
“And how, may I ask, do you intend to do that?” said Durima. “Ask every single god in the Northern and Southern Pantheons until you find him? Seems awfully impractical to me, even for someone as magically-talented as you are.”
“Of course I am not going to use such an impractical, time-consuming method,” said the Magical Superior. “Instead, I am going to return to my study, where I will contact the only god who knows exactly what is going on at all times in every part of the world. Including who your Master is and what he is doing at this very moment.”
“Who is that?” said Durima.
“That is not information you need to know,” said the Magical Superior. “Though to be perfectly honest, I thought you would know, seeing as the god I am thinking of is by no means an obscure one.”
Durima took her claws off the bars of her cell and sat back. “So is that it? Just going to leave us here to rot until you find out who our Master is?”
“You are hardly going to rot,” said the Magical Superior. “You will simply remain down here until I get the information I need. Then I will decide whether to free you or not.”
Durima huffed. “Fine. But when Master comes here, looking for the mortal stupid enough to defy his will, I will make sure to point in the direction of your study.”
The Magical Superior opened his mouth, likely to say something stupid, but then the ceiling shook above their heads. The three mortals looked up as dust fell from the ceiling. Durima also looked up, as she had no idea what was causing the ceiling to shake.
“What's going on out there?” said Yorak. “Superior, is this normal or is it another explosion?”
“I don't know what it is, Yorak,” said the Magical Superior as the ceiling shook again. “We must return to the surface immediately. If it's another attack, then we have to make sure that our students are safe.”
The Magical Superior looked at Durima with hard eyes. “You and your friend stay put until we return.”
Durima held up her hands as another layer of dust fell and landed on her shoulders and head. “It's not like I can open the door and waltz on out, although rest assured that I would like to do so.”
The Magical Superior didn't seem happy about what she said, but he didn't push the subject. He went walking back in the direction they had came, with Junaz and Yorak following closely behind. Soon the entire catacombs was engulfed in the darkness from before, only this time, the ceiling shook and dust continued to fall with every tremor.
Oh, Master, Durima thought, wincing at a particularly violent shake. I just hope that whatever you've done, that it will not cause the ceiling to fall in on and kill us.
***