Rocalla's Saga: Arrival

14: The Workshop —

1054 Kyabalaka 1

I slowly lower myself into the underground sewer. Before I even touch bottom, the dank water flows over the top of my boots and the cold, foul liquid swirls around my toes. The fluid waste is just above my knees when my feet reach the solid bottom of the ditch. The stench of the filth is making my head swim, and my stomach is starting to churn once again.

I start walking toward the tunnel. There is a thick layer of muck on the bottom of the ditch, and it pulls at my water-filled boots each time I lift my feet. I reach the tunnel in a few steps, and stop.

“Are you all right, Rocalla?” Dierdra asks. The concern is evident in her voice.

“Yes,” I manage to say, but I do not sound convincing. “Well, here I go.”

I duck my head to avoid catching any of the hanging ooze in my hair, and walk into the tunnel. The stink intensifies, and I find it difficult to keep from heaving. I have to walk carefully to keep the muck from sucking the boots off my feet.

Progress is slow, but before long I can see that the tunnel opens up ahead. Altogether, it looks to be about fifteen to twenty meters long. With the end apparent, I move a little more quickly, anxious to escape the sewer.

Exiting the tunnel, I enter a medium sized room. Trickles of water run from numerous openings in the walls and ceiling. On my left, there is a small platform, and from it a broad set of stairs rises up into the castle.

I walk over to the edge and lay my lantern and quarterstaff down. The stench of the sewer has made me giddy, and when I turn my back to the platform so that I can boost myself up out of the filth, I slip and lose my balance. I catch myself on the edge of the platform, but not before I have sunk more than waist deep into the watery waste. No longer able to control myself, I throw up violently, my stomach contents joining the other vile wastes that half cover me.

Regaining control of my stomach, I drag myself up out of the sewer and onto the platform. I lie there a few minutes, letting the cool stone comfort my face. Then I get up on my hands and knees, turn around, and signal to Dierdra and Elanor with my lantern before I crawl over to the steps and sit down.

I expect to sit here a long time, and even wonder if they will follow me at all. But I can see the glow of Dierdra’s enchanted machete within a couple of minutes, and soon after, they appear out of the tunnel. Dierdra is moving along quickly, with an air of determination. Elanor, with her short stature, is almost waist deep in the dark water and struggles to keep up.

“This is without a doubt the grossest thing I have ever done in my life,” Dierdra says as she reaches the steps.

Elanor climbs out of the ditch and joins us. “I hope you can find us a different way out,” she says.

Looking at me, Dierdra says, “You sure look like a mess.”

“You should see yourself,” I say, although I doubt that she looks as bad as I do. She certainly does not look as bad as I imagine that I do. “Let’s get on with it. And keep it down. We certainly don’t want to wake anyone up.”

We climb up the flight of stairs to a landing near the top of the room. A second flight of stairs leads us up another story higher, to a narrow stone passage a meter and a half wide and a mere two meters high. Along the right wall, a short distance above the floor, are square openings every eight strides or so. We come to the first one; it is covered by a metal grate and opens high on the wall of a large room. The space is dark, and the light from our lantern shining through the hole is unable to reveal much of anything. I step aside so that Dierdra can look.

She grabs the iron grating and tries to move it. “It won’t budge,” she whispers. She looks a moment longer, then moves to the next opening, while Elanor takes her place.

“I really can’t make out anything for sure,” Elanor whispers. “Maybe it’s a workshop of some type.”

I start to walk to the second window, which Dierdra has already deserted. Elanor accompanies me. Before we even look inside, Dierdra is calling to us from the third opening.

“Hey, come here,” she says in a voice too loud to be called a whisper.

I hold my finger to my lips to quiet her. When we get close enough, she says in a loud whisper, “This one is loose, I think we can take it out.”

The grating is indeed loose, and Dierdra and I are able to work it free while Elanor holds the lantern. As I set the grating down on the floor, Dierdra sticks her head through the opening, holding her glowing machete in front of her. After a moment, she slides back out.

“It looks like a storage room,” she whispers. “There are big cabinets on either side, and a door at the far end. The window looks to be about two and a half meters above the floor. We can climb down and look around.”

“Shouldn’t we check out the rest of this passage first?” I ask.

“Why?” asks Dierdra.

“I would feel better knowing that there isn’t a room full of guards at the far end waiting to take a walk down here,” I say.

“Sure, that makes sense,” says Dierdra.

I grab the lantern and continue to follow the passage. There are six more windows, then the passage ends twelve strides farther down. A small, heavy door on the right side at the end of the passage is locked. All of the window openings are dark. Feeling a bit more at ease, I return to Elanor and Dierdra.

“Okay?” asks Dierdra.

“Okay,” I say.

Dierdra has already taken off her backpack and sheathed her machete, and is positioned to back into the opening. Once I give the word, she wastes no time. She wiggles her way backward until her hips are through, then slides down into the room until she is hanging on the edge with her hands. A moment later she lets go and drops to the floor.

The space below fills with light when Dierdra pulls out her machete again, revealing large wooden cabinets on either side of the room. Dierdra opens one of the cabinets on the right side and looks inside. “There are a bunch of jars in this one,” she says. “They’re labelled in Gallish. Sapphire dust, tourmaline dust, garnet dust, stuff like that.”

“This must be some sort of workshop or laboratory,” Elanor whispers to me.

“The next cabinet has more jars, some clays, sand, more sand, iron dust,” Dierdra says. “I’ll take a look on the other side.”

Opening one of the cabinets on the left side, Dierdra says, “This one is full of glass spheres, each about ten centimeters across, in a variety of different colors.”

“Don’t touch them!” Elanor says.

“What,” says Dierdra, spinning around. “Why not?”

“They may be magical. I need to check. Rocalla, I need to get down there.”

“Come on down, Elanor. Just ease your way back through the window.”

“It looks like a long drop.”

“Hang down from the window. I’ll help you.”

Elanor drops her pack and crawls into the empty space. She moves cautiously; first she hangs her legs and hips over, then she slides back until only her arms, shoulders, and head are in view. Carefully lowering herself, she hangs by her hands.

“How much farther is it?”

“Your feet are a little more than half a meter above the floor. I’m right behind you. Just let go and I’ll catch you.”

I stick my head through the window in time to see Elanor release her grip. Dierdra catches her by the hips as she falls, taking a step backward. As soon as they are both safely standing on the floor, Dierdra picks up her glowing machete, and Elanor walks over to the open cabinet.

Elanor studies the glass balls for a moment, and then turns to Dierdra. “Give me a moment to cast a spell to see if these are magical,” she says. Dierdra steps back. Elanor gathers her thoughts, then starts moving her arms and chanting in a low voice. Other than her taking a deep breath at the end, not much happens.

“They’re enchanted,” she says. “They’re magic orbs. I’ve never seen any, but I have heard of them. If you break one on the ground, it releases its magic.”

“What sort of magic?” I ask from the window high above.

“It depends,” Elanor says. “Given the variety of colors here, there are probably many different types. I don’t have the knowledge to tell them apart.”

“What could they do?” Dierdra asks.

“They might create a patch of impenetrable smoke, or a patch of magical fire, or just explode. Perhaps they summon a creature. There are lots of possibilities.”

“You sound a bit in awe of these orbs,” I say.

“It’s not the orbs themselves, it’s what their presence here means,” Elanor says. “It takes a very experienced, highly trained wizard to create magic orbs. And there are a lot of them here.”

“So that means that there are wizards working inside the castle?” Dierdra asks.

“It means there are wizards working for the Imperial Governor, or else they are importing the things,” I say.

“We should check out the larger room,” Elanor says. “It may be a wizard’s laboratory.”

“Okay,” says Dierdra, “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” I say. “I want to come, too.”

I leave the window for a moment, and return with our packs. Hanging from the window, I dangle a pack from my hand, then drop it. Dierdra catches it before it hits the floor. After all three packs and my quarterstaff are in the room, I turn around and start to wiggle back into the window. It’s not a large space, about half a meter high and maybe eighty centimeters wide. There is room enough for me to fit, but there is no way that I can turn around. In a moment my waist is hanging over the edge, then my chest is even with the window. The weight of my body is pulling on me now, pressing my breasts into the hard stone, and I feel myself slipping further into the room. I quickly place my hands and lower myself until my arms are fully extended, then let go. The floor is farther down that I imagine it to be; I stumble backward and land with a thud on my behind.

“Are you okay?” Dierdra asks.

“I’m fine,” I say. “Let’s get going. We can leave our packs here.”

“Since the packs are down here, why not pack up some of the orbs?” Elanor asks.

“What for?” Dierdra asks.

“Anyone can use them, and they provide evidence that the imperial government is using magic.”

“She’s right,” I say.

“So we’re going to steal some orbs from the castle?” Dierdra asks.

“I’d like to describe it as collecting evidence,” I say.

“That’s fine with me,” Dierdra says. “I don’t care.”

“Just wrap them up in something,” Elanor says. “Don’t let them bang into each other. You really don’t want to break one in your pack.”

We each choose three orbs, and carefully place them in our packs. I wrap mine in the two cyeijaba that are in the bottom of my pack. Seeing the brightly colored rectangles of cloth used for clothing in the Bhayanna Archipelago, I think longingly about my native land. The clean cyeijaba remind me of how filthy I am and how much I stink after traveling through the sewer.

When we are done, we place our packs by the wall below the window, and arrange ourselves by the door. Dierdra looks at the both of us. “Ready?” she asks. We each give her a nod, and she turns and opens the door.

The room is L-shaped. In the nearest corner, not far from the door, is a large fireplace. The room extends away to the right, with a large table occupying the center. On the table are a couple of oil lamps, a long sword, and three arrows. Beyond the table there is a door on the left, and the room bends around a corner to the right. There is also a door on the right, close to us, that probably leads to a second storage room. Shelves on the far wall hold a variety of strangely shaped glass containers.

Dierdra walks over to the table and looks at the sword and arrows. “Is this an armory, do you think?”

“Not necessarily,” Elanor says. “The weapons may be here to be enchanted. Maybe they’re enchanted already.”

I walk over to the fireplace and stick my hand over the coals. I can still feel the warmth rising from them. “There was a fire in here today,” I say.

Elanor examines the table, looking more at what lies around the weapons than the weapons themselves. Parts of the table glitter from traces of mineral dust, and there are bits of dried herbs and leaves.

I walk around the corner and come upon another large table against the wall, below the first window that we looked through. Random piles of small sacks and leather bags cover about half of the table. There is a balance in the center, with metal cups and pans for weighing out things. On the right side there are three books.

“Elanor come look at this,” I say. “What are these?” I ask her when she comes over, indicating the three leather bound volumes.

Elanor picks the top one up, opens it, and flips through a dozen or so pages. “It appears to be a spell book,” she says. “Although I would have to carefully study it to be sure.”

Dierdra is standing by the door, getting ready to open it, when she stops and holds up her hand. She mouths the words “Someone’s coming,” and points at the door leading out of the laboratory.

I quickly cover my lantern, and Dierdra slips her machete under her cloak. We stand silently in the darkness, not moving. At first I hear nothing, but then I start to discern the sound of booted footsteps. A faint glow of light begins to appear below the door.