Chapter 23 – Starting Gear

  Olivia

  Olivia found a door built into the wall. The stones were a different color, but it was more the fact that it wasn’t closed fully that gave it away.

  “Looks like you were right,” Olivia said, “someone’s been this way.”

  She pulled on one of the displaced faux stones, causing the heavy door to swing out and reveal a stony antechamber. It was a small space enclosed by smoothed stone walls, dark, with any indication of its use lost to time. Two doors, carved from a different kind of stone, stood closed on the east and far walls. Olivia stepped in, glancing around the empty chamber. There was an ancient kind of feeling in this room, as though its purpose had been served long ago.

  “Was this all from the war?” Olivia asked.

  “No,” Demi replied. “This looks like part of the dwarven ruins. It’s been here abandoned since before Woodpine was settled centuries ago. Apparently, before dwarves and stone gnomes settled in mountain cities, they stuck to the underground.”

  “What made them all leave?” Olivia tilted her head. “This looks like it took a lot of work.”

  “Generally a concession for migrants,” Demi explained. “People who aren’t dwarves or stone gnomes get very frustrated with underground living. Yet, if they build in the same style into the side of a mountain and allow for the sunlight, you get the splendor of a place like Highwinter. These days, the sea-level settlements are historic sites of antiquity – how things used to be done.”

  Olivia uttered in wonder. There was so much she hadn’t seen. She’d been hoping to travel more as an adventurer. An old dream stirred as her attention went to the doors.

  “Which door?” Olivia asked.

  “We’ll look down both,” Demi said.

  Olivia tried the door on the east wall, but it was bolted closed with a bronze lock.

  “Not that way then,” Demi noted, immediately turning toward the other door.

  “No, wait!” Olivia chirped. “Maybe they lock it behind them?” She pulled her new lockpick out and eyed the keyhole.

  “Do you know how to pick a lock?” Demi asked.

  “I practiced a little,” Olivia said, “but these gnomish ones are supposed to do most of the work for you!”

  Demi crossed her arms and waited while Olivia slid her lockpick into the keyhole. The gears shifted and cranked as she gingerly rolled it across the tumblers. Placing her other paw on the door, she felt the vibrations of the gear teeth nudging each of them. It was working, she could feel it – wait, the furthest tumbler was stuck.

  Olivia focused further. The outside world faded.

  Tap.

  Little movements with the pick.

  Tap-tap. Tchnk.

  Got it?

  Olivia turned the pick, and the bolt released.

  Crunch!

  The gnomish lockpick fell to pieces, breaking into a pile of useless gears that clattered down as the door came free.

  “What the crap!” Olivia fumed. “That guy gave me a scam reward! Genuine ones last for years!”

  “Remember who you got it from,” Demi said. “At least it worked once.”

  Olivia sighed, nodded, and pushed the now-unlocked door free.

  It was an empty, dead-end room. Some kind of debris lay piled in a corner. Demi made a tut sound.

  “Come on!” Olivia hissed. Almost in desperation, Olivia went over to the debris. Wooden beams now fully rotted. Wait – there was something. A sword’s hilt poked through the rot. Next to it, a simple small crossbow and a bolt quiver.

  “Olivia, let’s move,” Demi called from the antechamber.

  “Hold on,” Olivia said, “found stuff!”

  Olivia pulled the sword from the debris. It was an old style of straight sword with a thick guard and ball pommel, resting in its frayed leather scabbard. She unsheathed it, eyeing the rusty iron blade – edgeless at this point, but forming a serviceable tip. It was about fourteen inches, making it a short sword. Well, it was better than her claws if there were bad guys here, and close enough to a saber. She hooked the scabbard onto her right hip as Demi picked up the crossbow with a frown.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “It’s rotting inside,” Demi said with disgust. She touched the string and examined the latch with surprising familiarity. Then, she opened the bolt quiver. “Three whole bolts.”

  “Have you used one of those?” Olivia asked. Demi strapped the quiver over her shoulder, removed one of the bolts, and slid it into place on the weapon’s groove.

  “My brother was always allowed to hunt with spears,” Demi began. “While I would be relegated to drawing blood from afar.”

  Clink!

  Demi latched the bolt, her weapon loaded.

  “Country lords do it different, huh?” Olivia remarked. “Um, just so you know, I’ve only ever fenced with a sword.”

  “I’ve only ever hunted game,” Demi shrugged. “I believe the underlying principles work for combat, too. Now, bodyguard, you’ve a weapon. Be ready to use it.”

  The cat-folk stiffened, remembering what she’d been doing. Laric had done protection work in one of the middle books. It was all about staying cool. The new weight on her hip helped bring her back to that space.

  “Let’s move on,” Olivia grumbled and made her way back to the other door.

  “You don’t have to do a voice,” Demi said with amusement, following.

  Behind the antechamber’s other door, a short hallway led to a sharp right turn. The stone here had been smoothed as well, though opposite the turn it had broken away to reveal a dark fissure. Olivia peeked in as they passed, but saw nothing, just a circular tunnel curving upward. When she turned to face corner, however, the sight made her gasp.

  The path ahead formed a precipice mined into the side of a stone chasm, with a rocky wall on the right side and open air on the left. From their vantage point, they saw the multiple tiers of dormant stone buildings below; with their doors missing or ajar and their bronze braziers long corroded. Water wept through a man-made channel in the stone and pooled in a basin at the lowest level. Olivia marveled as they crossed the heightened pathway toward another interior space.

  “Is Highwinter like this?” She asked, glancing back to Demi.

  Olivia didn’t hear the response. Behind Demi, out of the fissure they’d passed: movement. Something emerged.

  A cave rat! A hulking beast of grey fur larger than Olivia herself, with fleshy round ears torn ragged and carnivorous teeth bore. It paused, regarding them with aggressive red eyes.

  Oh, no. Panic formed in Olivia’s gut, and she forgot to be a bodyguard for a moment.

  “Lady Delacroix!” Olivia called, pointing. Demi wheeled around, crossbow raised.

  “Just a rodent,” Demi said. “Not worth a bolt. Don’t you hunt these?”

  “It’s of unusual size!” Olivia complained. Demi’s harsh glance, however, knocked the cat-folk back into character. She ran in front of Demi, her sword drawn.

  The creature hissed malice at Olivia. Okay, she was definitely going to have to hurt this thing – she prepared to thrust her sword.

  The rat’s attack came swift – too swift, anxiety haltered her thrust as the rat lunged forward and tackled Olivia to the ground! The cat-folk reflexively twisted her shoulder, causing the bite that followed to dig into the leather of her pauldrons. It felt like having her shoulder pressed by tongs. She flailed her sword, but the edge bounced uselessly off the creature’s hide.

  “Damnit!” Demi called.

  K-chnk!

  Olivia heard the release of a crossbow, then the rat flailed wildly off of her. She scrambled back to her feet, seeing a bolt protruding from the creature’s side and Demi fumbling with her crossbow. The rat’s attention was on Demi now, it leapt again, slashing out with its claws. The countess cried out in pain and reeled backwards, the bottom of her dress staining with blood.

  “Olivia, do something!” Demi shouted, backing away from the creature’s advance.

  The rat’s back was exposed.

  Something, at long last, clicked into place for Olivia. The same feeling she’d had back on the surface.

  Why was she still acting like prey?

  Olivia was a cat. Small. But cat.

  Not prey.

  That thing with its back open. That was the prey.

  Pounce.

  Olivia arced down from above, letting this sensation guide her blade’s point into the creature’s neck. The tip sunk into flesh, then pierced through. The rat spasmed. She jerked her rusty blade out from the hole. An explosion of blood showered the precipice in crimson.

  The rat died an instant later.

  The cat-folk held her dripping sword to the side, senses turning queasy.

  Scales, that was so much blood.

  “Uh, take that,” Olivia mumbled.

  Demi had a pained look on her face. She knelt to examine her wounds.

  “I wish you’d acted sooner,” Demi said with a wince. “This isn’t deep, but I’ll need to see a healer for the sickness.”

  Olivia had no response; she merely nodded while Demi tore a section of her dress to wrap the deepest cut. Like a bodyguard should, she felt shame for letting the countess become wounded.

  “At least you were effective,” Demi added. “Do that again, but faster next time. Okay?”

  “Thanks, sorry,” Olivia blurted.

  “Is your shoulder alright?” Demi said, standing once more. Olivia blinked, then remembered she’d been bitten. She glanced at her pauldron, which now had a few gashes across the leather. Something about that eased her.

  “It’s fine, look!” Olivia said. “Authentic battle damage!”

  Demi seemed amused.

  “I think you might be too secretly bold for clerkship,” Demi said. “Why did you want to give up field work?”

  “Lots of things I was scared of,” Olivia replied. “Blood, getting maimed, anything snake-shaped – mostly just, afraid of failing and letting my people get hurt?”

  The countess shrugged and motioned to her wound.

  “Well, it’s happened,” Demi said. “Yet we’re both still here. There’s clearly a lot of you that wants to do this kind of thing. Yes, people get hurt, I read about their injuries in detail. This time, it was me. Now, does it remain frightening?”

  Olivia shook her head, taking a moment to feel it out.

  “It’s like a different kind of scary now,” Olivia decided. “When I was acting like Laric, I was fine. It’s like I wasn’t scared of the monster. Now I’m scared of accidentally acting like me when I should be him. So if I just act better, it won’t happen again!”

  Demi scratched her chin thoughtfully, then glanced ahead to the interior chamber they’d been approaching.

  “Would Laric keep going?” Demi asked.

  Olivia nodded, then thought of something and said: “I think Olivia would too, now!”

  The countess chuckled and reloaded her crossbow.