2.45 – Trap

I swiftly found my way back to the tavern, slipping through the walls to where everyone had been playing their games.

The tavern was empty apart from Juliana sleeping on a bench. I entered her body and tried to rouse her, but her limbs were leaden, her breathing unnaturally deep. A sweet, cloying scent I hadn't noticed before hung in the air. My own consciousness felt heavy, the edges fraying. I fought to stay present, but the world dissolved into a sluggish, dark syrup.

I awoke with Juliana to the bite of cold iron. Our disguise was gone, our eyes greeted by dark stone walls and iron bars. The stench of sewage mixed with stale air assaulted our nose.

Juliana attempted to sit up but found our arms and legs chained securely, holding us flat on our back against the unforgiving stone floor.

Our clothing had been swapped for a simple, ragged tunic, the coarse fabric scratching our skin.

“Good, you are finally awake,” a well-spoken man’s voice echoed.

“We held a trial for your crimes against Forlinth in your sleep and have found you guilty of mass murder. We plan to execute you for those crimes tomorrow.”

“Where are Igasnov, Toby, and Vera?” Juliana croaked out.

“That is something we wanted to know. If you provide that information, we promise to kill you before you are burnt on the pyre.”

Juliana turned her head to look at the speaker. He stood flanked by two armoured guards, with a man in wizard robes hovering behind him.

He grinned like a man who had already read the last page.

I seized control of Juliana, my anger welling up.

“What makes you think you can try me for a crime when it was only in defence of Freyton City?”

The man’s smile broadened. “My men reported you speak with two different voices. An interesting quirk. But ultimately, you are too powerful to let live. The Black Hand has determined you should be disposed of, and the legal reasoning matters little. You will die tomorrow.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “I would rather avoid the collateral damage of you trying to kill me, so I highly recommend letting me go. If you don’t, I can guarantee this building will no longer be standing.”

The man laughed, his arrogant grin unwavering. “Feel free to try, but the moment you cast a spell, this man here will disintegrate you, for he is the foremost mage of the kingdom.”

I inspected the wizard more closely. He held a prepared scroll, likely primed to destroy us. If it truly was a disintegration spell, there was a high chance of it being effective, and chained to the floor, we had no way to dodge.

“Now, back to the matter of your comrades. Somehow, they slipped our clutches. I won’t offer this again, so choose wisely: tell me where they are.”

I glared fiercely at him. “I do not know where they are, nor would I tell you if I did.”

The man clicked his tongue, his smirk widening slightly. “No matter. I shall enjoy watching and hearing you scream tomorrow. But my job is done for now. Sweet dreams.”

He turned and departed. Through the iron bars, I could see him ascending a narrow staircase. The guards remained, staring intensely and keeping their unwavering focus on our body.

I relaxed and stared up at the ceiling, granting myself a moment to think. Breaking out of these restraints should be easy enough; a shapeshifting or vine spell could snap us free. The problem was the guards—there was no way we could cast before they reacted.

I decided waiting for an opening was my only option. I detached from Juliana’s body and began to observe the guards. Time seemed to crawl; paying attention to an unchanging scene was always a challenge for my focus.

Juliana looked at our captors. “I fear for your safety, for you have angered my god. He can be merciful, but I fear his wrath may cause you immense pain.”

The guards merely continued to watch her intently, offering no reply.

Juliana sighed. “Do not say I did not warn you.”

After a few hours of watching absolutely nothing happen, I realised I had to try something to break the deadlock. I thought back to how my stray thought had potentially caused the tragic death of Ilza; perhaps I could do something slightly less drastic here.

I focused on the wizard. I noticed the faint tremor in his hand, the dark circles under his eyes. He’d been on watch for hours, probably days. He’s exhausted, I thought, pushing the idea. Utterly spent. He just needs a moment’s rest.

The wizard’s eyelids drooped. He snapped them open with a startled snort, but the effort seemed immense. The guard next to him glared. “Hey, stay awake. We can’t afford for you to fall asleep now.”

The wizard’s eyes reddened as he rubbed them wearily.

The profound realisation that I possessed this degree of impact on reality began to sicken me. I now had terrifying evidence that I was likely directly responsible for Ilza’s death all those years ago.

I could feel my spectral form run cold at the thought.

It only took another ten minutes before the wizard’s head slumped forward. Juliana noticed the opening immediately. She manifested a roaring flame barrier directly on top of the wizard and guards, immolating them before they could even react. Their agonizing screams ended rapidly as their bodies burned to ash.

I jumped back into Juliana’s body. The iron bonds snapped as she cast a vine spell, the roots bursting from her skin and shattering the metal. Free of the magic-dampening chains, she shifted into a mouse, scurried through the iron bars—and was repelled by a violent jolt of pain from a ward on the cell itself. Juliana squeaked and shook her tiny head.

We shifted back. The ward blocked physical passage, but now that the chains were gone, another path was open. Juliana cast a teleportation spell; the world warped, and we found ourselves on the other side of the bars, assaulted by the sickening scent of charred corpses.

From above, we heard heavy footsteps pounding down the spiralling, steep stone staircase. We sprinted upward to meet them, encountering the first guard on the narrow steps. He lunged at us with his shortsword, but Juliana dodged the blade effortlessly and spoke a single arcane word, exhaling a concentrated puff of poison directly in his face. The guard coughed violently before collapsing; we leapt over his flailing body as he tumbled down into the dark.

We continued up the claustrophobic spiral before emerging through a stone archway. Immediately, we were assaulted by a blinding blast of flame and intense heat that blasted us backward into the stairwell. A searing wave of pain washed over our skin as our ragged clothing burned away, leaving us completely naked.

Juliana let out a sharp cry of frustration and pain.

Hostile voices echoed from above. “Don’t let her escape! We must kill her here!”

Juliana quickly cast a healing miracle, causing our severe burns to vanish seamlessly as the agony melted away.

“I apologise for the discomfort, my lord. I will see to these heretics up the stairs for you.”

Juliana chanted another incantation. A thick, rolling cloud of green toxic smoke erupted from her hands, pouring straight up the stairs into the room above. Several men could be heard violently hacking, followed closely by the heavy thuds of armour collapsing to the floorboards.

Juliana charged into the acrid smoke. The gas was suffocating, a corrosive fire that burned our throat and lungs with every breath. Her druidic constitution resisted the poison that had felled the guards, but the searing discomfort was a constant agony.

Our eyes watered and stung, but we pushed out of the noxious cloud to face a fresh squad of guards. They flinched back, shock warring with duty on their faces. For a half-second, their eyes flickered over our nude, burn-scarred form, their advance faltering with uncertainty.

Juliana reacted first. Thick, thorny vines punched through the solid stone floor, ensnaring the men and pinning them securely in place. She then telepathically directed the acrid green cloud to roll over them as we sprinted toward the nearest exit.

I could hear their muffled screams quickly give way to wet, choking gasps behind us.

The next chamber appeared to be an entry foyer—a cavernous room featuring high ceilings, stone walls, and a large wooden desk in the centre. The space was packed tightly with soldiers and mages. At the vanguard stood the well-spoken man from our cell. This time, he wore no smile; his face was drawn tight with absolute terror.

“Don’t let it reach me—shoot it, shoot it!” the man shrieked.

A volley of arrows, fire, and ice hurtled toward us. Juliana slammed her palm on the floor, and a wall of solid stone erupted to meet the ceiling, buying us a precious second. Behind the barrier, panicked shouts were drowned out by the shriek of stressed mortar. She pressed her other hand to the stone, murmuring a deeper incantation. The entire building groaned. Cracks spiderwebbed across the walls and massive chunks of the ceiling began to fall.

Juliana dodged a falling boulder as she began her shapeshift, her form shrinking and sprouting feathers even as the roof gave way. As a swallow, we shot through a new, jagged hole in the collapsing ceiling. Below, the sturdy administrative building caved in on itself, burying the sounds of screaming under tons of rubble.

The dull grey sky was surprisingly blinding after the gloom of the dungeon. Fat, freezing raindrops battered our tiny wings as we navigated the air. From this aerial vantage point, we could discern the layout of the city streets, banking hard towards where we guessed the tavern was located.

It wasn’t long before we landed right in front of the establishment. We shifted back into our tall Nhalyri form, standing completely naked before the heavy oak door. The freezing rain pelted our bare skin, sending violent shivers through our body.

Juliana pushed the door open and strode confidently inside. The tavern was entirely empty, save for Corin standing at his usual spot behind the bar.

He looked us over, his eyes wide, the sly smile on his lips looking more like a nervous twitch. “Gods. I knew you were powerful, but… that. I didn’t expect you to return without clothing, though.”

Juliana scowled darkly at him.

I furiously seized control of our body, marching straight up to the bar. “Where are my friends? Igasnov, Vera, and Toby!” I shouted, my voice cracking with desperation.

Corin’s smug smile never wavered. He planted his hands on the polished wood and leaned in close. “Didn’t you find it exceptionally strange that I simply gave you a high-quality disguise kit for free?”

“That doesn’t answer my question!” I roared.

“Come now, Geoff, surely you are smarter than that,” Corin replied coolly.

My stomach plummeted. He knew about my true identity, but how?

Still grinning, Corin continued, “Think about it. Why would a man like Igasnov be posted so far out on the border? Wasn’t it convenient, finding someone so useful, right when you needed a guide?”

“Who is Geoff?” I attempted to lie, but the words came out fractured through my chattering teeth; the freezing rainwater was finally beginning to chill my core.

“Please, you can’t fool me like that. I could easily tell there were two distinct consciousnesses residing inside that body, and the only being I know to fit that specific description is you, Geoff.”

“Fine. I am Geoff. What do you want?” I demanded angrily, slamming my bare fist down hard against the countertop.

“Well, my part in this is done. If you ever want to see your friends alive again, I have a message for you from the leader of The Black Hand.”

Corin slid a folded piece of parchment across the bar. I snatched it up and cracked the seal. Inside was a neatly penned note.

Geoff, Come to Holver. Should you come quietly with your new puppet, your friends will remain unharmed. — The Black Hand.

It practically screamed trap, but what could they possibly hope to achieve by luring me back to that specific village? To what end?

“Now, because I am a gracious host, I will provide you with some fresh clothing. Unfortunately, it won’t be quite as nice or practical as your previous druidic outfit. Please wait here a moment.”

Corin disappeared into a back room before re-emerging a moment later carrying a folded pile of simple black garments.

We hastily dressed ourselves, immensely relieved to feel a semblance of warmth returning to our shivering limbs.

“How long were we asleep down there?” I asked, buckling a dark leather belt.

“Oh, about a week. That specific sleeping toxin seemed to bypass your high-level resistances quite effectively.”

“And one final piece of advice: I highly recommend leaving quickly. I suspect the city guard will eventually come looking for you here again. Furthermore, the massive mess I am sure you made during your escape will officially mark you as a permanent enemy of this city.”

Corin then chuckled darkly, highly amused by his own betrayal.

“I will not forget what you have done to us today,” I vowed as I turned to leave.

“Oh, I’m quite certain you won’t. But just remember, The Black Hand has eyes everywhere. It is highly advisable you stay on our good side, don’t you think?”

The vile thought of playing along with this syndicate made me physically ill. Revenge was a luxury I couldn't afford—not while Toby, Igasnov, and Vera were in their hands. Every instinct screamed it was a trap, but it was the only path forward.

We marched out into the driving rain. Juliana shifted into a small swallow, and we took flight, leaving the hostile city behind. We flew toward Holver, guided by nothing more than the desperate pull of a god's intuition.

-- Chapter Note not in tags due to situation

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