A Quest
Blood and Starlight Chapter 5
Blood and Starlight: A conjurer, a vampire, and a mechanical demon embark on a rescue mission.
Audience: Adults (contains violence, strong language, and sexual content)
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Chapter 5
A Quest
Sir Ambrose Quinn answered the knock at his door in a satin dressing gown. His finger bones were ink-stained, and he carried a bejeweled goblet.
"Are you alright, Elyssandro? What's happened?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, fine. I had a question, but...what is that?"
Quinn followed his glance to the goblet. "Ah, this. It's just a prop."
He tipped it toward Ely to reveal its contents nothing but air.
"Did you want to come inside?" Quinn asked.
"If you don't mind," Ely replied, looking over his shoulder.
He did not expect Dr. Faidra had followed him, but his nerves remained raw all the same. Quinn stepped aside, holding the door wider.
"It's a mess at the moment," Quinn mumbled apologetically.
Ely had never seen the inside of Quinn's apartment. The skeleton chevalier usually met him on the portico for Caj or elsewhere in the city. He did not seem keen to share his private space. Inside, a narrow entryway paused at a coat rack before flowing on into a cozy sitting room with a cheery fireplace and a curtained window.
Shelves lining the walls held an assortment of thick folios and stacks of loose pages tied with twine. In the center of the room, a candle dripped wax on a table laid out with longswords, daggers, dining utensils, colorful fans, and other oddities. Another candle winked from a small desk where a half-written page lay beneath the downy white plumes of a writing quill. An ink bottle sat uncorked beside the stack of finished manuscript pages.
"You're a writer?" Ely asked.
Quinn inclined his head. "I dabble. The props help me set the scene," he explained, placing the goblet back on the table.
Ely tried not to grin too wide. He had felt it impolite to ask what an immortal skeleton might do with his abundance of time. This seemed very fitting for Quinn.
"So, what brings you knocking at this early hour?" the skeleton asked.
"I thought you might be up for a quest," Ely replied. "But I'd hate to interrupt."
"The only thing you're interrupting is a terrible case of writer's block," Quinn declared. "That's exactly the inspiration I need. A good quest. I'll go get changed."
With that, the skeleton chevalier disappeared through the bedroom door. Ely sat in a faded armchair near the fireplace, resisting the temptation to peek at some of the manuscript pages.
"Will it be warm or cool, this quest?" Quinn called.
"Will it make a difference to you?" Ely asked with a frown. Then quickly added, "No offense."
"I like to dress appropriately," Quinn snapped.
"Dress for a steep climb," Ely answered.
"Excellent!" came the reply.
A few minutes later, the skeleton emerged in black linen, a tailored leather vest with a multitude of pockets, and sturdy green hiking boots.
"So, what daring adventure are we seeking today, my friend?" Quinn asked.
"Do you remember my ghostly visitor?" Ely inquired.
"Of course."
"Why don't I explain the rest on the way."
As they walked, Ely recounted the newest chapter of his strange tale. Quinn had not heard of Ariel Marcellus or Ravan Aurelio.
"I never dallied in the academic or political circles," the skeleton knight explained. "I am, however, familiar with the rumor that vampires plagued the streets of Dianessa. Disappearances. Puncture wounds. There was certainly a convincing body of evidence. I never saw a vampire myself, though I was quite intrigued..."
By the time Ely reached the previous night's events, they had come to a halt at the mouth of the treacherous ravine overlooking the ruins of the Tower.
"So, this is our steep climb?" Quinn asked, peering over the edge into the darkness below.
"You can wait up here if you'd rather," Ely offered.
"How dare you even suggest it," Quinn huffed. "Have you brought a rope?"
"Better," Ely beamed, lowering his pack from his shoulders.
Inside, he had tucked away a set of climbing harnesses. He demonstrated their assembly to Quinn who let Ely adjust the straps. They fit a bit loose over his bones, but it would do.
With the harnesses in place and the first anchors and ropes set, the two adventurers began their descent.
"Can you see the bottom yet, old chap?" Quinn called. They had been climbing for hours, the sun long since past its noon arc.
"Nothing yet," Ely answered, voice ragged.
He feared they might be plunged into darkness with no way to reach solid ground.
The skeleton knight repelled down the rock wall, his boots breaking bits of debris loose. When he stood safely on the narrow ledge, Ely unknotted the rope and pulled it free from the metal loop fixed in the stone above. They continued without assistance as the next incline proved gentler.
"It's not that I'm worried for myself," Quinn continued. "Don't mortals have to eat and sleep?"
"I'll be fine," Ely assured him.
He was, in fact, bone-achingly weary, and he was sure the rumbling in his stomach would cause an avalanche any moment. Damn Rión and her knapsacks of food. It had been years since hunger had struck him so hard.
"So what do you think we will find in this bottomless pit?" Quinn questioned.
"I'm hoping an answer or two," Ely said. "At the very least, I plan to see if I can coax Ariel into materializing long enough to ask where she's locked away."
"Suppose she doesn't know?" Quinn pointed out.
"Then we're back to square one with an excruciating climb ahead of us," said Ely with a pained grimace.
"The luck of the quest, eh?" Quinn shrugged. "Is that a battlement I spy?"
"Yes!" Ely exclaimed.
He sidled to the nearest ledge. The bottom of the rocky ravine stood solid and fully visible below. Too far to jump, but one last repel might bring this leg of the journey to a close.
"Thank the named gods!" Quinn cried, then added hastily, "Not for me, for your sake."
"Of course," Ely nodded with a sideways grin.
The one final repel turned out to be far more difficult than anticipated. The cliff face near the bottom of the chasm was weathered and weak. It crumbled away at the touch and would not hold an anchor.
"Plan beta then?" Quinn proposed.
Ely nodded, calculating the distance. He did not generally use magic to solve problems of physics. That was Dr. Faidra's domain. In this case, there seemed no alternative.
"Alright, Quinn. I'm going to lower you down first. It will be a bit of a drop at the bottom, but I think you'll manage."
Quinn nodded. "Who's going to lower you down?"
"Me. Theoretically."
"Ah, yes. Conjury," Quinn nodded. "Have you attempted this before, whatever stunt you have up your sleeve?"
"I have?" Ely replied with an upturned voice.
"Very convincing," Quinn remarked.
"I have. Technically. But I wasn't the one in control of the situation," Ely admitted.
"Ah. We shall let Death take the reins then," Quinn said with a nod of his skull.
Ely fixed up Quinn's harness straps again and lowered him toward the flat expanse below. He was surprisingly heavy for a pile of bones. Ely tried not to grunt with the exertion. When he dangled as far down as the rope would allow, Quinn counted him off, and Ely let the lead slip. The skeleton landed lightly on his feet in a puff of dust.
"You alright, Quinn?"
"Kittens and daisies, old chap," Quinn called with a salute.
"My turn then," Ely murmured to himself.
He closed his eyes, relaxing his mind. The infinite host that usually lingered close by ready to seize control stood conspicuously absent.
Do it yourself if you're so clever, they seemed to say.
Ely sighed, then drew his armor tight around his limbs. It would not save him from a fall at this height, but it felt a comfort all the same to have its familiar protection in place.
Closing his eyes once again, he reached for the memory of the power that had shimmered through him on a long ago day. He had stood beneath the eaves of a black hurricane. As Death enveloped him in misty ether, he rose into the storm with arms outstretched. He felt as though he were part of the raging wind. He was the wind. He was the storm...
Ely's stomach lurched. His feet were no longer touching the ground. He wrenched his mind back to focus. Slowly, he directed the flow of death magic. His body glided through the air toward the bottom of the ravine. He nearly reached jumping distance when his concentration slipped.
Quinn shouted a warning as he wobbled and shook in midair. Then he plunged for the ground, landing in a heap. He sat up, head ringing.
"Well, that's one way to do it," Quinn said.
Ely groaned and stood, dusting himself off. When his swimming vision steadied again, he surveyed their surroundings.
Gargantuan slabs of black stone littered the ravine floor. The remnants of spiked turrets and crumbled battlements soared higher than any edifice that Ely had ever seen. At the far end of the chasm, the great Tower stood a doorless monolith, its spire like an unsheathed blade pointing to the heavens.
Ely stared transfixed at the ruins. Chest tight. Revenant magic trembled and cavorted about him. It was hard to breathe down here. Hard to think.
"I'd forgotten how impressive it was," Quinn said. "You could see the Tower from any point in Dianessa. If ever you were lost, it would help you find your way as surely as the Polestar."
"Did you ever go inside?" Ely asked.
Quinn shook his skull. "This daring adventurer and amateur scribe did not attract their notice. They kept their eyes ever fixed to the stars. Their minds forever beyond this world. You can see their dark and lofty ideals reflected in these gothic stones."
"They must have been as asinine as Rav said if they didn't hire you on the spot to pen their story," Ely said.
"Did your vampire say anything about where we might begin looking?" Quinn asked.
Ely shook his head.
The skeleton nodded and began scouting the perimeter of the ravine. Ely closed his eyes, endeavoring to shut out the noise. The echoes. There was nothing down here that felt like Ariel.
Quinn called out from ahead, and Ely jogged over to him.
"Look at that."
He pointed toward the foot of the Tower. Nearly swallowed in shadow, Ely made out the limbs of a tree jutting up from a crack that split the ground like a wound. The tree's thick boughs twisted and stretched as though trying to haul itself from the depths of the earth. Its leaves seemed to pulse and sway. Gasping for breath in the gloom.
Ely shivered. The sight of the gnarled limbs scraped against his mind, jarring as claws on metal. He wanted to run. Yet he knew as surely as if it spoke its own name. This was the Hollow.
A vicious buzzing like a swarm of angry hornets droned in his ears. He tried to tear his eyes away, but the hypnotic swaying leaves held him captive. Ely stepped closer, drawn in by an inescapable force.
"Elyssandro, stop!" Quinn's warning sounded as if from underwater.
It was too late. His next step tumbled through thin air. He was falling.
Down.
Down, as the earth swallowed him whole.
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Another great chapter