Florinok, seated in the passenger seat next to the driver, discreetly reached into a particular pocket of her lime, safari jumpsuit. She ran her fingers across the curves of the object that lay inside — it was shaped like a forest-green leaf with a rose-pink screen. Zablaron had given it to her when they came back to Malora and identified it as a Virtual Backpack. It had five weapons stored inside, and he made her give names to each of them — not only to identify them and make them sound cool but to actually summon them when needed using the built-in voice recognition. Each name needed to be two words that she would not ordinarily say during normal conversation.
The last time Florinok had hoped she would not need the gun in her hand, she had ended up needing it, and she had not used it anyway. She still hoped she wouldn't need the VBP, but, more than that, she hoped that should the need actually arise this time around, she would not be afraid to make use of it.
As the van skimmed through the trees, Zablaron shifted his gaze from the window and studied the Ornebular archaeologist sitting opposite from him. If anyone will spill the beans about what they're really here for, it's most likely going to be him, he mused. He seems to have other things on his mind.
Zablaron cleared his throat. "Is there something we should know?"
Beralaxon looked up. What the... he's talking to me! he thought as he found a pair of gray eyes looking directly at him. Why not ask Mr. Bonnel? "Like what?" he asked as he tried his best to sound incredulous. He can't know, can he?
"Like, I don't know, somebody holding foolish grudges?" Zablaron suggested. "Somebody wanting to kill someone?"
Beralaxon sat astounded. No, that's not possible. He swallowed a lump and said, "I don't know what you're talking about." Silver-eyed creep.
"Hmm." Zablaron leaned back against his seat and continued looking out the window. Definitely hiding something.
Soon, the van ground to a halt, and everyone looked up.
"We're here," Florinok announced, removing her seat belt.
"Thank goodness," Cearlin remarked as she got up from her seat.
Beralaxon looked around as he stepped outside the van. The path had led to a clearing, at the center of which was a gaping pit. The antechamber of an ancient building was visible at the bottom, its entrance barred by a humongous, wrought-iron gate. Familiar runes were carved repeatedly into the smooth, stone walls of the structure. The fabled Nova Block Cache, Beralaxon marveled. I can't believe I am laying my eyes on this.
Strangely, the only signs of past archaeological activity currently in evidence were pieces of black, bedraggled canvas and husks of campfires strewn about the pit. Why did they tear down their tents like that? Beralaxon wondered.
The SUV swerved and abruptly stopped near the edge of the pit. Vulture and his men promptly got out and slammed the doors behind them.
"Get a move on, all of you," Vulture barked at no one in particular. "We don't have all day."
As Vulture's men lead the way, the party set to descending the pit along a dirt path that spiraled along its walls. It was slow going, the winding track being narrow and somewhat treacherous.
Vulture's men got to the bottom first and set to work on the mighty bar barricading the gate. They heaved and strained against it until it lifted out of its supports and then let it drop. It swung noisily before it drooped downward. The men then threw open the gates.
"Lead the way, Mr. Bonnel," Vulture called out.
"With pleasure," the old archaeologist replied as he made his way down the path and over to the gate with surprising agility.
As Beralaxon followed him into the darkness beyond the gate, Mr. Bonnel let amaranth light shimmer from his hand. Beralaxon blinked his eyes before shapes irradiated by the red glow began to take form. A steep, yet broad, marble stairway descended into the depths. The walls on either side were made by big stone slabs, lined by braziers as far as Beralaxon could see.
"I see the braziers have burned out since the last time we were here," Mr. Bonnel said, observing the unlit braziers.
"You should have put them out before leaving," Beralaxon remarked as he let his own hand glow an electric crimson. "Come on, let's go."
As Cearlin joined them, they started the descent, each of their steps resounding through the stone walls. They were closely followed by Vulture and his men, while the others followed at some distance.
The stairway descended deep under the ground and, after a long time, ended in a surprisingly enormous cavern, half-natural, half–man-made. Faint shafts of sunlight streamed in from little cracks in the rugged roof far high above.
They walked along a natural bridge of stone flanked by bottomless chasms on either side.
"Careful, everyone," Beralaxon warned. He had traversed too many ancient sites to be unwary of the danger they posed.
The cavern gave way to a corridor lined with smooth walls engraved with runic writings, then another smaller cavern, and then to winding catacombs. Gradually, the sound of gushing water nearby grew louder.
"How further?" Zablaron inquired.
"Not too far now," Mr. Bonnel said as they trudged along the uneven ground lined with crumbling stone slabs. "You'll know when we get there. This way."
Mr. Bonnel turned out to be right. The catacombs abruptly gave way to what looked like a whole other world underground. Beralaxon gasped as he took in the wondrous sight at hand. It was a colossal cavern lined with smooth, teal marble that glinted at every turn of the head. Ancient inscriptions were engraved in a lustrous gold all around. The floor was covered in massive beige, stone tiles interlocked in a crisscross pattern.
Lofty, pyramidal structures stretched ahead in two rows on either side of the cavern, lined with the same exquisite teal marble. Each had a doorway at its front adorned with ornate gold gates.
Tall as they were, even the pyramidal structures dwarfed in comparison to the rugged, stony roof of the cavern so far above that it might as well have been the sky. As with the previous cavern, rays of sunlight pierced through little cracks, revealing the specks of dust floating in the air.
As they started descending a flight of stairs onto the cavern floor, Mr. Bonnel commented, "Inside those pyramids is where we found the Nova Blocks."
"Right, then, Ducelest. What else did you hope to find here?" Vulture demanded as he stopped in the middle of the room.
Beralaxon gradually spun around as he trod across the cavern, examining the surroundings. There were all sorts of contraptions in the place — chains protruding from shafts in the ground and disappearing into ledges above, massive blocks suspended by hempen ropes from the roof, cogs and gears embedded in the walls. Probably for transporting materials, Beralaxon surmised. "There is an object whose mention has cropped up many times in my research. It's sometimes referred to as a siphon, sometimes as a primer."
"I'm guessing its function is to do those things? Siphoning or priming?" Cearlin asked.
"Yes. Apparently, it is required to reconfigure the Nova Blocks in some way to make them more receptive to enertrons and to load them," Beralaxon replied.
"And what does it look like?" Cearlin asked again.
"I haven't the foggiest idea," Beralaxon admitted. "I only know that such an object... should... exist. And accounts about the Nova Block Cache imply that it should be buried nearby."
"Nearby?" Vulture asked skeptically.
"Well, in the same place, if we're lucky. At the very least, we might uncover some clues about its location," Beralaxon said as a mural on the wall at the other end of the cavern caught his eye.
"Hmm... you'll find we have scoured the place clean. Still, be my guest and have a look around," Vulture said, somewhat resignedly.
"I intend to," Beralaxon replied as he made a beeline for the mural.
It took up almost half the wall and was made up of little mosaic tiles in vibrant colors. The scene showed a city with sturdy, towering walls and grand, milky white buildings about to be annihilated by a gigantic tidal wave. Beralaxon only had to look at it for an instant to know what it depicted.
"Incredible," Beralaxon said out loud as he ran his hand across the mural, marveling at its beauty. "It shows the Drowning of Irti — in other words, the siege of the glorious city of Irti, which was protected by the strongest walls then known to mer. It had never been conquered in three-thousand years."
"Until our emperor came along?" Florinok asked as she stood next to Beralaxon and studied the mural.
"Yes. With his Nova Blocks. The walls were no match for their might. It's said that when the walls were breached, the Maloran Forces swept up and over them like one giant wave of water and took over the city," Beralaxon explained.
"Wonderful history lesson — now could we get back to the work at hand?" Vulture said as he produced a vial from his pocket and shook out a tablet into his hand.
"It might not look that way to you, but he does seem to be at work," Zablaron said as he watched Vulture swallow the tablet. Painkiller? Zablaron thought in amusement. "Unlike you, loading yourself with who knows what."
"Be glad I'm not loading you with bullets, Inrazax," Vulture growled.
"Gentlemen, please. This is not the time," Mr. Bonnel said urgently. "Carry on, Mr. Ducelest."
"Be quiet, everyone," Beralaxon said as he put a hand to his ear.
"Umm... we're listening, Mr. Ducelest," Mr. Bonnel said.
"Good. What do you hear?" Beralaxon asked.
Everyone fell silent and listened. There was only one thing left to hear — the sound of an immense volume of water flowing somewhere close.
"The water?" Cearlin spoke up first. "That's the subterranean part of the Unzayi River."
"Yes. It's flowing through the next caverns," Florinok added as she listened intently. "All around this place."
"Coincidence? I don't think so!" Beralaxon grinned.
"What do you mean?" Cearlin asked.
"Simple. We must flood this place," Beralaxon declared.
"What?!" Vulture exclaimed. "What good will that do?"
"I can't say for sure. I do have some theories," Beralaxon said as he analyzed the place, his eyes glowing electric crimson while his mind took in the geometry and structure of the cavern. "But there's only one way to find out which one is right."
"OK..." Mr. Bonnel said in a drawn-out way as if trying to process what Beralaxon had just said. "Let's assume that you are right and that we must... flood this place... but how do we accomplish that? Do we breach the walls?"
"Now, now, Mr. Bonnel," Florinok chimed in. "That's not very archaeological of you, I must say."
"Of course not, Mr. Bonnel," Beralaxon replied indignantly. "There must be some mechanism our good emperor built for us. We simply need to activate that."
He watched as Mr. Bonnel, Vulture, and his men exchanged wary looks. Not the least bit suspicious, Beralaxon thought.
He turned his attention back to the mural when suddenly something glinted at its bottom. He crouched down to have a better look. A series of inscriptions were engraved at the bottom of the scenery, whose sheen waxed and waned as the viewing angle shifted. He ran his hand over their contours to get a better idea of what symbols they were.
"What did you find?" Cearlin inquired.
"Inscriptions in the Qunko script used around the period of Emperor Yilabar the Fourth's reign," Beralaxon explained.
"Can you translate it?" Mr. Bonnel asked eagerly.
"Probably. Give me some time," Beralaxon replied.
"I knew bringing you would be a great help," Beralaxon heard Mr. Bonnel exclaim as he focused on the inscriptions before him. "Take as much time as you need."
His grasp on the Qunko script had rusted quite a lot, and he was stymied at first, but soon enough, it started coming back to him. "First came the archers," Beralaxon began to say out loud as he ran his fingers across the symbols. "They raised their bows..." Beralaxon paused at the symbol for 'bows' — it was slightly more prominent and had a more reddish sheen than the other signs. Curious.
He continued, "And let loose flaming arrows." The symbol for 'flame' or 'flaming' was similarly differentiated. "When the defenders took cover behind the battlements against the onslaught, the engineers charged the cannons with the Nova Blocks. They aimed the barrels of death at the ivory walls of the city. As the defenders dared to rear their faces, they were met by an apocalyptic sight. Blinding rays of light, as white as their towers, unleashed from the cannons and struck the walls with the strength of a thousand rams. The mighty walls were reduced to rubble and bricks in the time it took to blink an eye.
"Then came the cavalry, riding stallions in golden armor, banners streaming in their wake. The riders carried lances with their points glowing with the same deathly white light. And soon, the city of Irti was taken over by a flood of men and horses, laying waste to every building in sight. Hence, the mighty Emperor Yilabar struck terror forever into the hearts of all who dared oppose him."
Nobody spoke for a while. "That's it?" Cearlin asked eventually.
"Yes," Beralaxon said, lost in thought.
"Oh, my" — Cearlin sighed — "what a disappointment."
"What did you expect?" Florinok asked Cearlin.
"I had hoped there would be some mention of that siphon or whatever he was talking about," the archaeologist replied.
"Bow, flame, tower, ram, eye, stallion, lance, heart..." Beralaxon enunciated. "These words have been set apart from the others. And I just saw some of these objects somewhere," he said, turning around.
"I think I know where," Cearlin said. "Maybe... on those gates?" She said, pointing toward one of the golden gates lining the entrance of a pyramid behind him.
"Yes! Exactly!" Beralaxon rushed back to the gate Cearlin was pointing at.
The gate bore a golden, rotating dial with drawings of various, seemingly random objects in black.
"Wait," Beralaxon said, holding up his hand. "If you didn't know about that inscription, how did you open these gates? They clearly require the correct combination to open."
Again, Mr. Bonnel and Vulture shared that weird look. "We, um..." Mr. Bonnel began, clearing his throat. "Forced our way in. I must say Mr. Vulture here convinced me to do so."
"Don't you look at me like that," Vulture snapped at Beralaxon. "We did scans of these structures and determined it would not harm the Nova Blocks inside in any way. And it didn't. So there."
"Yes, don't look so surprised, Mr. Ducelest. He did cut down all those trees just so his fancy cars could get all the way here," Florinok said with a tone of acridity.
"Don't you dare lecture me, disease-spreading lady!" Vulture retorted.
Beralaxon sighed. "Well, then you'd better hope you didn't damage the mechanism and render it inoperable," he said curtly.
"Why do you care about the mechanism? We got the blocks, didn't we?" Vulture demanded in irritation.
"Because we didn't get the primer yet!" Beralaxon replied. "Anyway, there are eight pyramids and eight prominent words in that inscription. We need to set the correct corresponding symbol on each of the gates — in order."
"In order?" Mr. Bonnel raised an eyebrow. "How would you know which one to begin with?"
"That one," Beralaxon said matter-of-factly, pointing at the pyramid nearest to and to the right of the cavern entrance. "It is marked 'first' above its gate in Qunko. They are all numbered."
Beralaxon memorized the prominent words in the inscription. He then walked over to each pyramid in turn and rotated the dial on its gate so that the corresponding picture appeared on the top, rimmed by a golden circle.
Just when he set the correct symbol — a heart — on the eighth pyramid, he heard some gears grinding underground and a distinct metallic clink.
"Look!" Cearlin exclaimed, pointing up above at something.
Two statues were suspended in the air high above on either side of the mural. Two wooden pins, which had been locking the statues in place, began to slide out of rings built into the statue heads.
Once the pins retracted completely into the cavern wall, Beralaxon's attention was drawn back to the ground to a pair of chains jutting out of shafts. As if freed from something that had been jamming them, the chains slowly started moving upward, out of the ground. Above, they wrapped around pulleys built into stony ledges, only to turn back down and attach to the statues. As a result, the statues had gradually begun their descent.
"And here is your mechanism," Beralaxon said, pleased with himself.
"Ah, those are counterweights," Zablaron observed.
"You never fail to impress, Mr. Ducelest," Mr. Bonnel said, laying a hand on Beralaxon's shoulder as they watched the statues lower further and further. "Let's see what they do."
Suddenly, the statues ground to a halt, swaying about in the air. The chains stopped as well, straining and creaking against resistance.
"Oh, no, you jinxed it!" Cearlin remarked in dismay.
"I guess it was jinxed the moment they forced their way through those gates," Florinok agreed with a sigh. "The mechanism has disengaged."
"There has to be something we can do," Cearlin said urgently.
Zablaron stepped forward, staring intently at the suspended statues. "The left one is alright — it's lower down, and even its chain is still struggling to move. It's the right one that's giving trouble. It's not being pulled down anymore."
"Right," Cearlin said. "So, we just have to pull it manually... somehow."
"I can levitate... but not that far up," Zablaron lamented.
"I can reach there," Beralaxon said. "Mr. Bonnel, guess that equipment I insisted on getting might just come in handy," he added as he removed a grapple gun from his belt. He never visited ruins without one back in the day.
Mr. Bonnel chuckled. "I was waiting for a 'told you so' all this time."
Beralaxon turned to Zablaron. "Just need a little boost from you."
"You can reach there?" Zablaron asked skeptically. "You sure you're not a grave robber?"
"I am certainly not a grave robber!" Beralaxon retorted indignantly. "You don't know me, so keep your assumptions to yourself." You have no idea what a robbery I prevented, he thought.
"Darn, someone is sensitive about their job," Zablaron said indifferently. "Anyway, where do you want me to boost you?"
Beralaxon gazed at the eighth pyramid. "On that pyramid's slope... the slope facing the mural," he said.
"Hmm," Zablaron uttered as the two of them walked to the pyramid in question.
Zablaron released steel-blue magnetic waves to hover above the ground. He then grabbed Beralaxon from under his shoulders, ascended into the air, and deposited him as far up the slope as he could.
As soon as Beralaxon's feet hit the slope, he felt himself sliding down. He channeled his enertrons and engulfed himself in electric-crimson cosmic energy. He dug his feet in and then zoomed high into the air, leaving a trail of nebulous energy.
In an instant, he fired his grapple gun upward. It snagged a crevice in the cavern wall in its hooks. Beralaxon felt a rush he had not experienced in a long time as he ran across the wall in an arc, clinging onto the cable. He had no idea how much he had missed this until that very moment.
Still at the top of my game, he thought. When he reached the highest point of the arc, he disengaged the grapple and thrust his feet against the wall. He leaped out perpendicular to the wall, aided by cosmic energy. He grabbed onto one of a pair of stone blocks suspended above by a thick, heavy rope.
"Be careful, Mr. Ducelest," Mr. Bonnel called from down below.
With Beralaxon's weight, the block began to lower just as the other of the pair started to ascend. Before it was too late, Beralaxon pulled himself up and then sprinted across the block. He leaped into the air and grabbed the other block just in time.
The blocks halted momentarily, and soon, their movements reversed — now, it was the turn of the second block to descend. Beralaxon ran across its surface before it could sink too much.
Just as he reached the edge, he turned his eyes upward. The troublesome statue hung quite a ways above, the distance increasing every second.
"Beralaxon! Hurry!" Cearlin's voice echoed.
Beralaxon leaped once more, aimed his grapple gun, and fired. The cable shot out in a blur just as Beralaxon began to fall. The hooks embedded into the plinth of the statue, bringing him to a standstill with a jolt.
"He made it!" Cearlin exclaimed.
"Oh, my, that was... strenuous to watch," Florinok mumbled.
"But, his weight still isn't enough to pull the statue down!" Mr. Bonnel said in dismay. "Whatever it is a counterweight to is surely very heavy."
Beralaxon paused to catch his breath. Then he started retracting the cable, inching his way closer to the statue. Once he had positioned himself right beneath it, he formed a swirling, sapphire gravitational vortex in his free hand. The statue began to lower at once, pulled down by the vortex.
Inch by inch, the statue gradually lowered. Once it reached the level of the other statue, both began descending in unison.
"I can speed things up a bit from here," Zablaron said and stepped underneath where Beralaxon dangled from the statue. Zablaron shot a light-salmon, metallic cable from his hand, securing one of Beralaxon's ankles. He then began pulling with all his might.
"Let us help," Alvoak called to Bolho, Florinok's other guard.
The two guards joined in by wrapping forest-green vines around Beralaxon's legs and started to pull.
"Almost there," Beralaxon muttered under his breath, his eyes closed. He winced as they pulled with a force that almost threatened to tear his legs out of their sockets.
Suddenly, the statues plummeted. Beralaxon's feet hit the ground hard, and he let out an agonized grunt. He lurched backward uncontrollably until Zablaron caught him.
Simultaneously, the mural rose from its place, revealing a grating behind it from where a massive torrent of water gushed in relentlessly, sweeping Beralaxon, Zablaron, and Florinok's guards off their feet and back toward the rest of the party.
The cavern's sidewalls had also shifted to reveal even more gratings from where more water gushed in. A stone slab crashed down to block the entrance they had come from.
"Mr. Ducelest! What now?!" Mr. Bonnel yelled at the top of his voice over all the clamor.
For such a massive cavern, the water was filling it at a shocking rate. It had already reached up to their knees. "Now we swim," Beralaxon groaned as he steadied himself.
"What the—" Cearlin cried. "I can't swim!"
"Don't worry," Florinok called back. "Alvoak! Bolho! Make a raft! With me!"
She gathered her enertrons in her hands and aimed them at the flooded ground. They solidified into a forest-green, wooden raft that slowly grew and merged with the wood being created by Alvoak and Bolho.
By the time the raft was big enough, Florinok felt exhausted and nearly drained of enertrons. By now, it was the size of a small boat and floated on the water. "Hop on, everybody," she said breathlessly.
The water was now up to their waists, and everybody hastily waded over to the raft and clambered aboard. It bobbed up and down, and for a moment, it seemed like it would capsize, but then it finally stabilized.
"Boy, am I glad we brought you along," Cearlin said.
"Me too," Florinok replied.
When they had been in the water, it had seemed to be rising too fast. Now that they were out of harm's way, it was taking forever. There was a long wait as it rose slowly but steadily, submerging structures all around them. The pyramid gates were the first to disappear underwater. Sometime later, only the peaks of the pyramid themselves stuck out of the surface. Still later, the water had reached the level where the statues had been suspended earlier.
How much more? Beralaxon began wondering until some more gratings in the walls up above caught his eye — these did not have water coming out of them.
When the water climbed to the height of the gratings, it began spilling out of them, and, finally, the water level became stationary. "These probably feed back into the river," Cearlin observed.
"OK, then. What now?" Vulture asked impatiently as he looked around the submerged cavern.
"Let's see," Beralaxon replied as he scanned the walls above the surface. The ceiling was very close now, and Beralaxon could even spot some vegetation outside through the cracks. "The water brought us up here for a reason." His eyes glowed as he surveyed the nooks and crannies. Where is it? he wondered in vexation.
"What if the water... did something down below?" Zablaron suggested. "What if we are not supposed to be up here?"
Down below, Beralaxon thought. Suddenly, something ahead of him, just beneath the surface, caught his eye. "There!" he said excitedly.
"What? Where?" Mr. Bonnel asked.
"I see an opening in the wall. It looks like a tunnel. I can swim over to have a look."
"Yes, I see it now," Mr. Bonnel said as he noticed the circular opening, large enough for a person to fit through. "Let me join you."
Beralaxon gathered his hands, tucked his legs, took a deep breath, and dove into the water. The water felt cold on his face and sent goosebumps down his skin but, at the same time, reenergized him. He let his hands glow electric crimson to light his path.
He kicked and thrust his way forward, pushing the water back with his arms. He stopped momentarily at the mouth of the tunnel and waited for Mr. Bonnel to swim next to him. He then resumed his way through the tunnel, which was lined with smooth stone that eerily reflected Beralaxon's light.
The tunnel turned and twisted until suddenly it gave way to a widened area. Light seemed to be streaming in from above. With his remaining breath, Beralaxon shot upward as fast as he could. Finally, he broke the surface and took a deep gulp of air. Mr. Bonnel's head, minus his hat, emerged right after him.
Beralaxon shook the water from his eyes and looked around. They were in a small grotto with water at one end and a solid rock shelf at the other. Beralaxon let his jaw drop as he saw what lay on the shelf.
Beralaxon and Mr. Bonnel exchanged looks filled with wonder and excitement and then gazed straight ahead.
"Is this it?" Mr. Bonnel asked, his voice quivering.
"It has to be," Beralaxon almost whispered.
They slowly swam over and pulled themselves over the ledge. Beralaxon's clothes were dripping and heavy, but he didn't care.
The space ahead was littered with old stubs of candles. At the center was a glistening, white marble pedestal inscribed with golden symbols in Qunko. And at the top lay the object.
It had a peculiar, white glow around it like that of pure, raw enertrons, unsullied by any element. It was an hourglass-shaped vessel made with frosty glass reinforced by ivory stone. At the top was a projection that tapered into a stylus.
"The Nova Conduit," Beralaxon read out an inscription on the pedestal.
"How does this activate the blocks?" Mr. Bonnel asked.
"I don't know... you probably put them inside it. But that is a question for another time. Right now, let's take it back," Beralaxon said.
He carefully cupped his hands around the artifact and lifted it off the pedestal. Not as heavy as it looks, he thought.
"There is a lever here," Mr. Bonnel said, looking at a metal handle embedded in the wall behind the pedestal. "I wonder what it does."
"I don't think there are any traps here," Beralaxon said, scanning the area. "Just pull it, and let's see what it does."
"Right," Mr. Bonnel said and moved over. He gripped the lever with both his hands and strained. "It's too heavy. Give me a hand, will you?"
"Sure," Beralaxon said as he placed the artifact back onto the pedestal. He joined Mr. Bonnel and gripped the lever. "OK, one, two, three..." he said, and they both pulled.
...
Zablaron felt the raft lurch, almost causing him to lose his balance. Then he heard a rumbling of some sort, deep down.
"What's going on?" Cearlin asked.
Suddenly, the water level began to drop. It receded from the gratings making the raft bob as it lowered along with the level.
"We are going back down," Zablaron felt unhelpful saying. "Those two aren't back yet."
The water had reached the upper lip of the mouth of the tunnel they had gone inside. Moments later, the water receded past the lower lip, and the entire tunnel was above the surface.
"Bonnel! Ducelest! Where are you?" Vulture called out, cupping his hands over his mouth.
Everyone's gaze was fixated on the tunnel that grew farther with every second. Suddenly, Beralaxon appeared in the mouth, holding something glowing in his hands.
"We'll have to dive," Beralaxon called out as he saw the raft a few yards below. As the water had kept receding, they swum, waded, and then ran out of the tunnel.
"After you," Mr. Bonnel replied.
Beralaxon held the Nova Conduit tight against his chest, leaped, and cannonball-dived into the water. He splashed into the depths before he swam up to the raft. Zablaron pulled him up on board just as Cearlin helped Mr. Bonnel.
"You found it!" Cearlin said happily as she spied the artifact in Beralaxon's hands.
"Yes, we did," Beralaxon said triumphantly.
"I am still mad at you for not telling me before reeling him in, Mr. Bonnel," Vulture quipped. "But, I must say, your judgment was correct."
"Why, thank you, Mr. Vulture—"
"And, please, just refer to me as Vulture."
"Thank you... Vulture," Mr. Bonnel said, smiling awkwardly.
"So, how does it work?" Vulture inquired as the raft continued to descend. The pyramid peaks had broken the surface by now.
"No idea... yet. But I am sure it should be pretty straightforward now," Beralaxon said.
"Hmm..." Vulture said thoughtfully.
They descended the rest of the way quietly. The mural and the statues were back in their place, the other gratings were closed, the entrance was open again, and additionally, several beige tiles had parted to reveal even more gratings in the floor. So that is what has been draining the water, Florinok thought. Soon, all the water had flowed through the grilles and slid down a ramp underneath. The raft plopped down onto the floor.
"Well, then... go on ahead. I need to make some calls about you," Vulture said to Beralaxon with the slightest hint of a smile. "You have proven yourself more useful than I thought."
"Thanks... I guess," Beralaxon said awkwardly.
As everyone headed for the stairway, Zablaron paused for a moment and looked back at Vulture. What is he planning now? he wondered.
"Go on, Inrazax," Vulture said, locking his eyes with Zablaron, a transceiver at his mouth. His men stood at attention behind him. "This has nothing to do with you."
"It better not," Zablaron warned and followed the rest of the party.
They navigated through the catacombs, and by the time they reached the first cavern, Vulture had caught up with them. They crossed the stone bridge, and just when they were about to ascend the stone stairway, Florinok's holophone rang. It was Rosa.
"Finally! I have been trying to reach you for so long!" Rosa's voice was frantic.
"What happened?" Florinok asked anxiously.
"Earlier, these Crows let some people in the forest — said Vulture knew them. Now... I mean, ten minutes ago, there was an altercation... and gunfire... oh, gosh, they could have even killed me... and then those people climbed on bikes and rushed toward the ruins," Rosa said breathlessly. "I don't like this one bit, Florinok. Be safe!"
"You too, Rosa. And thanks," Florinok said and hung up. "Some people are heading this way. You wouldn't know about this, would you, Vulture?" Florinok turned around and demanded angrily.
A bolt of electric-crimson energy shot through the darkness and struck Mr. Bonnel in the head. He collapsed in a heap.
"Mr. Bonnel!" Cearlin screamed and rushed to his side.
"No!" Beralaxon bellowed and kneeled next to the older man.
Florinok instinctively retreated into the cavern as her guards whipped out their weapons. As she looked up, she saw three figures standing in the stairway, wielding guns.
Heart racing, she cried, "Thorn Bramble!" A forest-green and rose-pink gun with a perforated muzzle materialized in her hand.
"Iron Paladin!" Zablaron cried, and his crossbow appeared in his hands.
Florinok fired a few thorns blindly before she backed up and ran to Mr. Bonnel's side. She channeled her enertrons and released rose-pink healing pollen all over him in an attempt to resuscitate him. Despite her effort, the old archaeologist stayed motionless. "This does not look good," she said worriedly.
"He is not breathing!" Beralaxon said urgently as he tried to apply pressure on the wound on the head — but he had already lost too many enertrons.
"And I can't find a pulse," Cearlin whimpered.
"What is this treachery, Vulture? We carried out our end of the deal!" a voice thundered from the stairway.
That voice, Beralaxon thought, startled. He looked up. No, this can't be!
Even though they were quite some distance away, and it had been so long since Beralaxon had last seen them, there was no mistaking who the three figures were. In the middle, stocky with red hair and a flowing, red beard, was Redwolf. To his right was the pale and lanky Whirlwind, his hair in a mohawk, his teeth filed — to Redwolf's left was the bald and plump Sphinx in his olive robes.
"Ah! Found new friends, Bergamot?" Whirlwind hissed, training his gun at Beralaxon. "Or are you posh Mr. Beralaxon Ducelest these days?"
"We were never friends, Whirlwind, and you know that," Beralaxon said as he stood up, clenching his fists.
"No, we weren't," Sphinx agreed in that raspy voice of his. "A friend would never do what you did."
"Who are these people, and why are they here?" Cearlin shrieked from Mr. Bonnel's side, her face streaked with tears.
"Didn't that old fool tell you about us? We are the Brotherhood of Cosmos," Whirlwind answered.
"And you're still killing innocent people," Beralaxon retorted.
"He was not innocent! He made the mistake of betraying us," Whirlwind snapped.
"Redwolf!" Vulture finally called out. He strode forward, motioning at his men to lower their weapons. "Take your men and leave now if you wish for your lives to be spared. I am feeling a bit generous today, so I will throw in a few thousand learts for your troubles. Refuse, however, and you will be the ones who will pay... with your lives."
"No!" Redwolf roared. "We had a deal! We are not leaving without Bergamot!"
"We promised you a man who could find a way to use those blocks — clearly, he did," Sphinx said, spying the artifact in Beralaxon's hands. "But now, instead of handing him over, you order your men to kill us! No, no, no!" Sphinx began shaking his head. "You will pay for this, just like that old geezer, if you don't give us Bergamot — now!"
"Bergamot?" Zablaron said incredulously. "What on Raster is going on here? What did you think you were doing when you named yourself that?"
Beralaxon turned to Vulture. "You made that deal with them? You really are scum. No wonder Zablaron and Florinok gave you such a warm welcome."
Vulture ignored him. "You were right, Redwolf. This Bergamot of yours is capable... much more than I expected. And that is why he is too valuable to lose," he said. "I may need him in the future."
"You are out of your mind if you think I'll work for you now," Beralaxon snapped.
"Well, then, perhaps you would like to join your old friends?" Vulture shrugged.
"We will destroy that artifact, Vulture... and everything you are working for," Redwolf threatened.
Vulture turned around and walked back. "Kill them," he said, motioning with his hand.
Flashes of red discharged from the Crows' rifles as energy bolts began flying up the stairway. The three men flinched and began returning fire.
"I hate it when this happens," Zablaron complained as he took cover behind a rock and began shooting bolts from his crossbow.
"So be it, Vulture," Redwolf yelled through the gunfire. "Cover me, boys!"
Sphinx and Whirlwind began a flurry of shots all around the cavern, forcing everyone to take cover. Florinok grabbed Cearlin and took her away from the opening of the stairway.
Zablaron watched as Redwolf raced down the stairs and aimed... up at the cavern roof above Vulture. He let out a burst of energy bolts before he ran back upstairs.
"Let's go, boys!" he yelled again.
Suddenly, a big chunk of rock loosened from the roof and came crashing down on Vulture. It hit him in the shoulder as he tried to dodge. He screamed in pain, grabbed his shoulder, and stumbled backward.
Another rock fell, and Beralaxon dove out of the way as the Nova Conduit went clattering away. He pushed himself to his knees, and to his horror, a grapple-hook snagged the artifact and disappeared in a flash. He looked up the stairway to see the grapple retract back into Whirlwind's hand, the artifact with it. No, he thought crestfallen.
As the three men resumed their suppressing fire and retreated, the Crows began following and intensified their retaliatory fire.
Cearlin wrenched her hand away and walked toward Vulture, who was still groaning in pain and was a sitting duck for the falling debris. Another rock fell and hit him on his head, making him stumble further back.
"Where are you going?" Florinok asked.
"This happened because of him," Cearlin answered. She stood in front of Vulture. For a moment, their eyes locked. Then, without warning, Cearlin threw all her weight and shoved him with all her strength.
"Noooo!" Vulture screamed as he went over the edge and fell into the bottomless pit flanking the stone bridge. Soon, his screams faded. Cearlin coldly peered over the edge as if to make sure Vulture had not survived.
A massive boulder fell, cracking the floor. "This place is caving in! We need to get out!" Zablaron yelled. He ran and helped Beralaxon to his feet.
Florinok weaved her way through the falling debris toward Cearlin, who was kneeling over Mr. Bonnel's body again. "Come on, we need to get out, or you will be buried alive!"
As they rushed and began ascending the stairway, the Crows were already in pursuit of the Brotherhood higher up. One of the Crows' bolts caught Sphinx's shin as the latter groaned and began to stumble. He shot back and got the Crow in his arm.
A stray shot ricocheted off the walls, and a big slab of stone collapsed onto the stairs, halting the Crows' advance for a moment and allowing Zablaron, Florinok, her guards, and the archaeologists to catch up.
They sprinted upward just as the stairs crumbled beneath their feet, and the walls collapsed.
Finally, they made their way to the surface and rushed out of the gates, breathless.
"That one has the artifact," Beralaxon shouted as he pointed at Whirlwind. He and Redwolf were already zooming up the dirt track lining the pit on their bikes.
"But that one is closer," Florinok said and aimed at Sphinx's bike. He had just climbed onto it and was wheeling it onto the track. Electric-crimson enertrons leaked out of his shin.
As if fearing for his life, Sphinx desperately shot at the group, guiding his bike around the track with one hand. Florinok pulled the trigger in turn. A flurry of forest-green thorns homed in on Sphinx's bike and punctured one of its tires.
His bike veered out of control and almost tipped over the edge. As Sphinx slowed down, Zablaron aimed the Iron Paladin... at the reactor. He led the target, steadied his aim, and fired. The bolt pierced the reactor. In a split-second, the bike exploded in an inferno, sending sparks and cinders all over the place. Sphinx was hurled into the air and landed in the pit with a thud. His lifeless body emitted wisps of smoke.
Meanwhile, Redwolf and Whirlwind had exited the pit and escaped into the woods.
"Where is Vulture?" one of the Crows suddenly asked, nursing his arm.
Cearlin began to speak, but Florinok cut in, "A rock struck his head, and he fell into the pit."
"And I'm guessing you had nothing to do with it?" the other Crow asked suspiciously.
"She tried saving him with her vines, but he couldn't grab them on time," Alvoak lied. "Pity."
The Crows looked at one another, taken aback.
"They made with the conduit," Beralaxon lamented as he rammed his fist into the palm of his other hand.
"Not for long," Zablaron assured him. "We will help you get it back."
"Why would you help me?" Beralaxon asked in astonishment.
"Because it is too powerful an artifact to be left in those buffoons' hands," Zablaron replied.
"And they made it personal when they caused trouble for my friend and then proceeded to kill an innocent man," Florinok added. "But, first, you must tell us what made your friends so mad at you in the first place. For now, let's go back and catch some breath."
"Right," Beralaxon said languidly as they headed for the dirt path.
"Rest in peace, Mr. Bonnel," Cearlin said as she cast a look at the crumbled ruins for one last time.
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