Adventure (Dragons & Magic Book 2) Read online

  “Maybe we shouldn’t go blundering about,” Daffodil said.

  Edmond considered the beam. The far end was attached to a spring concealed inside a hole in the wall. Peering closer, he saw grey fabric had covered the hole.

  “If you’re done staring, we need to keep moving,” Daffodil said. “Keep your eye out for other traps. You should go first, so your Luck can save you again.”

  “I’m not invincible. It’s like rolling a dice every time; I just roll better.” Edmond tore the cloth aside and reached into the hole. “I want to look at this before we go on.” His fingers found a small lever that clicked when he pushed it.

  A section of wall ground up into the ceiling. Edmond and Daffodil stared at it. It had been just like the door, only this time a tonne of rock had moved upward. Whoever built the place loved doors that went up.

  After staring at the place in the ceiling where the wall had gone, Daffodil hurried into the alcove behind. A backpack, a scroll, and a coil of rope lay on the floor within.

  Edmond joined her and picked up the backpack. Lifting the flap, he found a flask of what looked like water. The glass was pristine, better than anything Edmond had ever seen. Torchlight spun and flickered as he replaced the flask in the backpack.

  Daffodil was still examining the rope, so Edmond picked up the scroll. It had been hidden in a secret alcove, so he expected something revelatory. Instead, it was a scrawled drawing of footsteps with arrows pointing between them.

  Daffodil slung the rope over one shoulder and leant closer. “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” Edmond crumpled it up and threw it on the ground. “Scholars like to doodle little drawings sometimes. It’s a waste of parchment, if you ask me.”

  Daffodil reached for the scroll and smoothed it out. “Are you sure?”

  “Trust me. You wouldn’t believe how many of my books have drawings in the margins. Some of them are even quite dirty.”

  He expected Daffodil to perk up at that, but she continued to stare at the scroll as she wandered back and forth along the corridor. Now who was blundering—?

  A bell chimed nearby as a blue flame appeared over Daffodil’s head.

  “Careful.” Edmond fumbled his axe out of his belt.

  Daffodil dived under the beam but the flame followed her. She raced back the way they’d come, flailing above her, but the flame didn’t even bend.

  Edmond caught up with her in the first room. Apart from being out of breath, she seemed fine. “It’s not hurting you.”

  “No. It’s not.”

  “Give me that scroll.” Edmond stared at the drawing. There were eight sets of footprints, numbered from left to right. He put his feet in the first position—or as close as he could—then moved them around as shown by the arrows.

  As he stepped into the last position, the same chime sounded above him. A bluish tinge mixed with the flickering light of the torches. When he glanced up, a flame smaller than Daffodil’s but otherwise identical hovered over his head.

  “Is it magic?” Daffodil asked.

  The books Edmond had read that mentioned magic involved a lot of arm waving or potion brewing. Or had talked about mighty wizards casting spells without mentioning how. None of them had ever mentioned dancing around. “I’m not sure.”

  Daffodil took the scroll back and did the dance again, a little faster.

  The chime sounded and the flame above her surged brighter.

  “I guess we don’t need torches then,” Edmond said. “We can do that dance and it’ll light the way.”

  “Could the other stuff be magic too?” Daffodil unslung the rope. She threw one end into the air.

  It thudded to the floor.

  “I think it’s a normal rope.” Edmond took out the flask and opened it. It didn’t smell of anything. If it was a potion, it was a strange one. He took a sip. “Just water.”

  “Useful anyway. We can’t keep gabbing all day; there are monsters to kill. Lead the way.”

  Edmond walked back down the corridor, checking for more tripwires. If his Luck deserted him, he’d end up with a spike in his chest, and Melinda would be dragon food without him.

  After a few twists and turns, the corridor ended at another door. Edmond pulled the chain, his axe ready.

  The door rattled up, revealing another chinchilla scrabbling at the wall of a ten-foot square, stone room with an iron-wrapped door on the far side. Daffodil held her finger to her lips and crept into the room. Approaching the chinchilla from behind, she plunged her sword into the fuzzy beast.

  It vanished, leaving a drumstick and a stone club behind.

  “Where did the club come from?” Edmond walked over and picked it up. “Was it carrying a club in its fur?” It seemed to be made of stone but was light enough he could hold it up in one hand. He swished it back and forth, then tucked it into his belt beside his axe.

  Daffodil put the drumstick away and opened the door. Another empty corridor stretched into the distance. After a few minutes walking, they reached an alcove in the wall with an inscription above it.

  “If mortality of fatal and permanent nature thy problem be,” Edmond read, “rest thy weary bones here and pay for mercy. Twenty-five thousand in diamonds and gold, to thee should grant a chance to be old.”

  “What is it?” Daffodil asked.

  “Bad doggerel. That first line...” Edmond said. “The alcove might be a resurrection altar, I’ve read about them. If someone dies, you put them on it and they come back to life. In every story I’ve read, though, there’s always a cost. Twenty-five thousand sounds right.”

  “Someone rich enough can become immortal?”

  “No, it brings you back to life at the same age you were, not younger. If you died of old age, you’ll die again straight away.”

  Daffodil took a step back. “That’s powerful magic.”

  “Hopefully we won’t need it; because we certainly can’t afford it. Let’s keep going.”

  After a gentle curve to the right, the corridor ended in a junction. Edmond headed left, but it ended at a solid wall after a hundred paces. “I guess it was the other way.”

  Daffodil put her hand on his arm to stop him. “What’s that on the wall?”

  Edmond looked where she was pointing, but couldn’t see anything other than a slight smudge on the stone.

  Stepping closer, Daffodil pushed the discoloured spot. The smudge sank into the wall with a click. A breath later, the sound of stone grinding up came from the direction they’d come.

  “Maybe it’s another secret stash.” Daffodil strode back.

  Halfway back to the junction, a hole gaped in the wall. As they approached, a chinchilla that outweighed the other two by at least half poked its head out. Huge, yet beady, black eyes locked on them, denying the chance to sneak up on it.

  Edmond pulled out his stone club and Daffodil her sword, then the two of them stood side-by-side.

  Chisel-like teeth bared, the beast squeaked a bone-chilling cry and charged toward them, lunging at Edmond.

  He closed his eyes and swiped on instinct. A judder ran up his arm and across his shoulders as his club connected with the chinchilla. He waited for the chomp of teeth somewhere on his body, but nothing happened. Easing his eyes open, he saw the chinchilla standing in front of him, eyes glazed. It seemed to be stunned. “Quick. Stab it.”

  Daffodil rammed her sword into the creature and it vanished. With the crack of lightning, a green glow wrapped around her. “Edmond, what’s wrong with you?”

  Edmond looked down. He was glowing too. “I don’t know. More magic?”

  She frowned, then her expression brightened. “I think we might have levelled up.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? He’d never read about levelling up in any of his books.

  “A wizard told me. Quests and dungeons are different to real life. Your attributes increase when you’re on a quest.”

  His eyes widened, his dreams of being a great scholar flooding back. “I can increas
e my Intelligence and Wisdom?”

  “Not necessarily. The stats that go up are whatever you’ve used most. You have to kind of unfocus your eyes...” She stared into the air above him. “Luck +1, Dexterity +1.”

  He unfocused his own eyes and peered at the brighter glow above her head. “Strength +1, Perception +1... Wait. How can I have more Luck? It was at the maximum.”

  “Maybe only your birth maximum? Or it might be a wasted attribute. We’d have to ask a wizard.”

  “If it’s about what we use, then I should use my Intelligence and Wisdom as much as possible.”

  “What are you going to do? Read the monsters a story?”

  He peered at her. Something looked different—apart from the green glow. Then it came to him. “I could do that light spell some more.”

  “There are torches all over,” she said, but handed the scroll over anyway.

  A chime rang and flame blossomed as he did the dance. The chime rang again as he repeated the steps. However, when he danced a third time, nothing happened. “What’s wrong? Why’s it not working?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe we should keep going.”

  “You’re right, my true love awaits.”

  They walked back to the junction and took the right turn, then followed the corridor a few hundred paces to where it turned the corner. A short distance ahead the passage ended in an arch with a large 2 carved above it. Beyond, stone steps led down into the darkness.

  Daffodil grabbed his elbow. “You know the monsters will only get more difficult as we descend?”

  “But if we keep levelling up, we’ll get stronger too.”

  “Not strong enough. No one is ever strong enough.”

  “Well we can’t stay here.” Edmond strode through the arch. Strangely, he didn’t feel afraid any more. They’d faced the first level of the dungeon without much trouble. How much harder could it get?

  Chapter 5

  Pettigrew

  The stairs led to another ten-pace-square, stone-walled room with torches all around; however, the walls had more of a blue tinge to them and the pattern of the blocks had changed slightly.

  Daffodil held her hand up. “Can you hear that?”

  Edmond listened, but couldn’t hear anything. “What is it? More chinchillas?”

  “No, it sounds like someone’s crying. Look for another button.”

  Edmond moved along the left wall, fingers pressed to the stone, looking for a different coloured brick, damp patch, or anything out of the ordinary. Halfway along, his fingers brushed something. Feeling up and down, he located the tiniest of raised seams, running the entire height of the wall. “I think I found something.”

  Daffodil came over. “Yes, there’s some kind of a seam in the rock.”

  Edmond peered, but couldn’t see anything different. If he hadn’t had his hand on the blocks, he would have walked right by it.

  Daffodil pushed her sword into the crack and wiggled it until a section of wall swung outward with a creak.

  Behind it, a shaggy-haired boy hunched in the corner of a tiny room, sobbing. Eyes widening, he wiped his tears away and thrust out his hands. “Stay back, villains. Be afeared of my redoubtable magicks.”

  The boy’s robes were unable to hide his skinny arms and chest. Dust and dirt streaked his face, as if he’d been hiding for a while in the room.

  “Why is he talking like that?” Edmond asked.

  Daffodil shrugged. “Maybe he got hit on the head.”

  The boy stood, wrapping his cloak about his skinny body. “It’s how you’re meant to talk on a quest.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Daffodil said. “You don’t need to change how you talk, just because you’re on a quest.”

  “What would you know?” the boy said. “You’re only a child. I’m Pettigrew Irit, the mighty wizard. I’ve been studying quests and magic for years.”

  Daffodil’s biceps twitched. “A child? I’m older than you. You’re far too young to be adventuring.”

  “I’m thirteen,” Pettigrew said. “That’s old enough.”

  “I’m fourteen.” Daffodil stuck her tongue out.

  “Enough comparing ages,” Edmond said. “We’re Edmond and Daffodil. What are you doing here, Pettigrew?”

  “I hath come to slay the mighty dragon,” Pettigrew said.

  “Just talk normally, you idiot,” Daffodil said.

  “Jeez, fine,” Pettigrew said. “Why are you two here?”

  “We’re going to kill the dragon and rescue a shrill woman,” Daffodil said.

  “We’re on a quest to rescue my true love,” Edmond said. “The dragon killing is optional.”

  “Then we should team up,” Pettigrew said. “We all want the same thing.”

  “We’re already going to fetch one shrill idiot,” Daffodil said. “Why would we want another?”

  Pettigrew flushed. “Because I have magic. You’re obviously a barbarian. I don’t know what your brother does, but neither of you are wizards.”

  “He’s not my brother,” Daffodil said. “How do you know he’s not a wizard?”

  “His mana,” Pettigrew said. “He barely had any to begin with, and he’s out. I’m guessing he used it on that light spell over his head.”

  Edmond exchanged a confused glance with Daffodil. “What’s mana?”

  “Seriously?” Pettigrew said. “Didn’t you study at all before you blundered down here? Mana is your reserve of magical energy. You can see how much someone has by unfocusing your eyes and squinting at their chest.”

  Edmond had a flash of memory. He’d been staring at Melinda when he’d seen some kind of bars across her chest; he’d assumed they were censor bars, but magical attributes made more sense now he thought about it. He squinted at Daffodil. It took a moment, but he made out some fuzzy bars there; one red and one blue. He leant forward and peered harder. The red was much longer than the blue.

  “All right, enough staring,” Daffodil said.

  Edmond blushed. “Sorry.”

  “Take me along,” Pettigrew said. “Neither of you have a clue. Besides, I’ve got this.” He took a scroll from the pouch on his belt and thrust it aloft.

  “We have one of those,” Edmond said, taking out the light magic scroll.

  “Not like this one. This is the ultimate fireball spell: Inferno Blast.”

  Daffodil huffed. “You never know; he might be useful.”

  “I guess.” If anything, Edmond was glad to have met someone just as crazy as they were.

  “Great,” Pettigrew said. “You won’t regret it. My friends call me Grew.”

  “Sure they do, Pettigrew.” Daffodil strode to the door. “Let’s go before we change our minds.”

  With his club held ready, Edmond tugged the chain. The door ground up into the ceiling, revealing a long corridor beyond; and five enormous animal skeletons. Edmond had been around pig farms enough to recognise pig skeletons.

  They stood on their white leg bones, all facing the door. It was a bizarre way to arrange them. He wondered what the purpose of the display was. Then, with a creak, the skeletons stepped forward.

  Edmond yanked on the chain, sending the door grinding closed again.

  “What the heck are they?” Daffodil asked.

  “Oh, I should have mentioned them,” Pettigrew said. “That’s why I was hiding. I didn’t know how to get past them, and the monsters above have regenerated by now.”

  “Regenerated?” Edmond asked.

  “Monsters reappear after an hour in the places you first found them.” Pettigrew paused, blushing. “It took most of my mana to get through the chinchillas the first time. I haven’t regenerated enough to fight them again on the way out.”

  Edmond realised it had been less than an hour since he’d entered the dungeon. There was still a way out, if he wanted it. This time, though, the doubt only lasted a moment. “So you don’t have any magic to help us with those skeleton pigs?”

  “If you give me that scroll, I coul
d light the way to make it easier.”

  “Wait,” Daffodil said. “Why don’t you have your own light scroll? Do you have any scrolls other than that Inferno Blast one?”

  “It’s so powerful, I don’t need any more.”

  “Except you can’t do it, because you don’t have enough mana,” Daffodil squinted at him. “But your mana is full. Which raises the question: how did you get past the chinchillas?”

  Pettigrew blushed. “Well, I could’ve beaten them if I needed to; but there was this rogue who went into the cave ahead of me. He kind of took care of the problem. It would’ve been stupid not to follow him in.”

  “So you haven’t fought a single monster,” Daffodil said. “Some expert you are.”

  Edmond didn’t point out that until a little under an hour before, he and Daffodil hadn’t fought any monsters either. “Why can’t you cast that Inferno Blast spell, then?”

  Pettigrew’s blush deepened. “I’m only level one. I don’t have enough mana yet, even when it’s full.”

  “Level one?” Edmond asked.

  Pettigrew nodded and turned around. “It’s on your back. Check mine.”

  Edmond squinted at Pettigrew’s back and saw a large number 1 written there, along with ten yellow bars: Strength, Constitution, Dexterity… The last word, however, was blurred. “What’s that one at the bottom?”

  “No one knows,” Pettigrew said.

  “Check mine,” Daffodil said, turning.

  Edmond looked at her back and saw a large number 2, followed by a list attributes. “Level 2. Strength 9, Constitution 6, Dexterity 7, Intelligence 3, Charisma 3, Wisdom 3, Willpower 3, Perception 4, Luck 3, and the last one is 3, whatever it is.”

  “Charisma 3 explains a lot,” Pettigrew said.

  “From how you act, yours is 3 too,” Daffodil said. “Isn’t it?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Pettigrew said. “What’s yours, Edmond?”

  Edmond shrugged and turned away from them. He knew he had the maximum for luck and the minimum for everything else.

  “Level 2,” Daffodil said. “Strength 3, Constitution 3, Dexterity 4, Intelligence 3, Charisma 3, Wisdom 3, Willpower 3, Perception 3, Luck 11, and the last one is 8.”