The Fourfold Key

The torture chamber was, to be frank, a terrible place. Devices created for inflicting pain lined every wall—except for one wall, which had a large fireplace; the only light source in the room, giving everything an eerie glow—and were scattered around in various places about the large room. Tom hid behind a barrel full of freaky spiky things. Ruth slipped over to a block of wood that held various types of swords and pikes and squeezed behind it. Peeking out, she saw Ramere’s dwarf shove her over to a wooden frame. Fitting her inside it, he proceeded to chain each of her limbs to all four corners of the frame. As he chained her left leg, she lifted her right leg—which had not been chained yet—and kneed him in the face. He cursed and held his nose, which was now dripping crimson, then slapped her smartly across the face.

“That should teach you, elf.” He scowled at her, holding his nose.

“Well, it didn’t,” she replied.

Ruth looked at Ramere like she was insane. Seriously, is she asking for trouble? she wondered.

The dwarf’s face turned red with fury, then his features relaxed. “Well, if that didn’t, I guess I’ll have to try harder, won’t I?” He turned away from Ramere and walked to the barrel Tom was hiding behind. Ruth held her breath. Would he be found? But no. He leaned over and selected a horrifying weapon. One Ruth had never seen before. It was a long slender pole, and attached to the end was a thing that looked like a hairbrush top. Except, instead of bristles on it, it had lots of small, sharp blades. Ruth sucked in her breath. Was he really going to use that on her?

Grinning evilly, the dwarf turned back to the elf. His grin widened when she caught sight of the weapon and paled. “Don’t like this, do you? I believe you two have been acquainted in the past, correct? Not too long ago, either. In the last couple of days, or so I’ve heard.” Smiling, he advanced on the girl. Ramere flinched. The dwarf walked behind her so she could not see him, then raised the dreadful weapon. Ruth shut her eyes, too aghast to watch. Ramere gave a half groan, half scream of pain. Ruth could tell she was trying hard not to make a sound. Ruth glanced at Tom. His face was pale, but his eyes were full of rage.

He’s going to attack the dwarf! Ruth realized. I’ve got to help him! Glancing at the dwarf to make sure he was looking the other way, she slipped her hand around her hiding place and grabbed a dagger. Drawing a deep breath, Ruth heaved back her arm and threw the dagger to the far side of the room. Instantly alert, the dwarf whirled around and advanced toward the area where the dagger fell. Fortunately for Ruth, there were many places for an intruder to hide where she had thrown it. Ramere’s whole body sagged with relief at the break in the dwarf’s incessant raking of her back. Tom glanced at Ruth. She met his gaze and nodded. Silently, he crept out of his hiding place and slipped toward his target.

The dwarf was searching behind and in barrels of torturing supplies and muttering to himself.

As Ruth watched Tom she tried to figure out exactly what he was going to do. Was he going to capture him? If so, he needed a weapon. Was he going to knock him out? If so, he needed a weapon. Was he going to kill him? If so, he needed a weapon. After all that strategic thinking, Ruth decided what she needed to do. She reached around her hiding place and selected a short sword. It looked like a good sword as far as she could tell. She prepared to throw it to Tom taking one last look at the deadly weapon as it glinted in the firelight. The sword was covered in blood. She shrieked and dropped the sword. It clattered ominously as it fell.

Suddenly, the world seemed to move in slow motion. The dwarf shouted and turned sloooowly toward her. Tom froze and liiiifted his head up to meet the guard’s gaze. The dwarf looked at Ruth, then turned his head and looked at Tom. He raaaaised his fist and sloooowly brought it down towards Tom. Tom saw what was happening and duuuucked out of the way. Then he tuuuurned to Ruth. She leeeeaned down and grabbed the sword. Grimacing at the blood that had caused all the trouble, she threw the sword to Tom. Tom leeeeaped up and snatched up the sword, then tuuuurned to face the dwarf. As Ruth was giving Tom the sword, the other dwarf had gotten a weapon of his own. Both dwarfs raaaaised their swords and heaved them towards each other. Ruth winced, but kept her eyes glued. Their weapons clashed and ricocheted off their opponent’s. Tom stuuuumbled back a step. The guard grinned, murder glinting in his eye. He swung again, and again, Tom stepped back.

He’s not gonna make it! her thoughts screamed, and her slo-mo shut off. She had to do something. She stepped from behind the block and took a small dagger from it. She tiptoed silently around the room, out of sight of the battling dwarfs. Ruth slipped behind Ramere and motioned for her to stay quiet. She nodded slightly, acknowledging she saw. Ruth slid past her and positioned herself by the fireplace, out of sight of the guard. The guard slashed at Tom, aiming for his stomach. He deflected the fatal blow, but tripped on a stray chain and fell heavily on his back, groaning. The dwarf grinned and advanced.

“Not a very talented swordsman, are you, traitor?” he hissed, resting his sword on Tom’s chest.

Tom scooted backwards across the floor, unable to rise. Ruth drew a deep breath. Now! She rushed forwards, advancing on the guard. He was so busy with Tom, he didn’t notice her until she was upon him. She couldn’t kill him - she knew she couldn’t do that. So she did the only other thing she could think of. She pressed the tip of the dagger into his back.

“Don’t make another move,” she whispered to the dwarf in her most menacing voice—which, unfortunately, wasn’t that menacing. Lucky for her, the dagger was frightening enough. He stiffened and dropped his sword, raising his hands in surrender. Ruth nodded for Tom to stand. “Is there any rope in this awful room?” she asked him.

“Probably.” He breathed out shakily. He rummaged around in a pile of junk and came out with a length of rope. “This should do. Thank you for that, by the way.”

She smiled, then stepped to the side for him, still keeping the dagger pressed against the guard’s skin. Tom bound the dwarf’s hands, with the dwarf grumbling and cursing the entire time. When they were finished, they turned their attention to Ramere.

She said nothing, a lazy expression on her face. But her eyes shone with hope. Tom nodded in silent consent and turned to the dwarf.

“Where are the keys?” he demanded. The guard grunted. Ruth rolled her eyes and tossed Tom his sword, which he had dropped. He pointed the sword at the guard’s chest. “I said, where are the keys?”

The dwarf paled. “On a hook by the door.”

“Genius,” Ruth commented sarcastically, smirking at the guard.

Tom walked to the door and pulled out a single key. “Just one?” he mused.

Ruth looked closer at the key. It was gold, with a bright emerald melded on the top.

“There’s only one because it opens all the doors. All the same locks, I suppose.” The dwarf shrugged.

“Opens all the—Tom!” Ruth shouted. “It opens all the doors!”

“Yes,” Tom said, confused. “And?”

“It opens all the doors! It’s the—” Ruth stopped and glanced at Ramere and the guard, who were listening intently. “It’s the Key,” she hissed, leaning closer. His eyes widened.

Recovering, he made his way over to Ramere. He unlocked her feet first, then her arms. She rubbed her raw wrists and ankles, then stopped and bowed. “Thank you, both of you. I don’t know how long I could have made it in there. As you’ve seen, I can be more than difficult.” Her eyes glinted mischievously, showing she had no intention of changing. “I’m Ramere.”

“Tom,” Tom said, holding out his hand. Ramere shook it.

Ruth introduced herself as well, then gasped. “Ramere! You’re bleeding! Oh gee, we gotta do something about that!” She looked around the room for anything they could use for a bandage.

Ramere glanced at her arms. Thin streams of blood trickled down and dripped off her hands. “No matter,” she proclaimed. “It will stop soon. We should do something with him.” She pointed at the guard, who was attempting to get his hands on a sword to free himself. When she turned, Ruth saw the back of her tunic was bloodstained as well, but thought it better not to say anything. “Morrong is smart—for a dwarf. And if we don’t deal with him properly, he will escape and sound the alarm.”

“Wait,” Ruth said, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. “Morrong? Morrong what?”

“Morrong Bigeld, I believe. The dwarves arrived here yesterday, so I don’t know much about them.”

Ruth’s thoughts turned to a dizzy blur. If Morrong was real, then that meant her visions were real. And if her visions were real, that meant that these dwarves were sent by the Sorceress to capture them! She still didn’t want to tell Tom, though. It made her feel queasy to think that there might be something wrong with her.

“I say we kill him. It’s the only way he’ll stay quiet,” Ramere said.

“No!” cried Ruth and Tom at the same time.

“Well, if we can’t kill him, I propose we put him in the frame, gag him, and then knock him out. By the time his comrades find him, we’ll be long gone.”

“We?” Tom asked, suddenly confused, as though that thought had never occurred to him.

“Yes, we. If you’re planning on getting out, you’re going to need my help. Now, come and give me a hand.” She stooped over Morrong and lifted him under the arms. “Come and get his other side, dwarf.”

“I have a name, you know,” Tom grumbled, but did as she asked.

“I assumed you did, but you never gave it to me.”

“It’s Tom.”

They both grunted at the weight of the dwarf. Breathing heavily, they dragged him towards the frame. Morrong struggled, making himself as heavy as possible.

“Wow, he looks heavy.” Ruth smirked, settling on a barrel.

“Thank you for that wonderfully unhelpful observation, Ruth,” grunted Tom.

“I know,” she said, giving an exaggerated sigh. “Such a shame there are only two arms.”

“There are legs if you are so anxious to help,” Ramere suggested, eyes glinting mischievously.

“Oh, wow, I never thought of that. I dunno, I don’t want to be in your way,” Ruth said. “Aww, too bad. Looks like you finished without me. Oh well.” They finished locking him into the frame with a final kick from Ramere.

“Ruth, go find two gags,” Tom said.

“Okay—wait,” she said, stopping to face him. “Why two?”

“I’m going to assume that’s the only way to get you to be quiet.”

Ruth stuck out her tongue and marched off, returning with one piece of fabric. She handed it to Tom. He gagged Morrong and Ramere hit the dwarf on the head—hard. He let out a muffled groan and slumped against the chains.

“There. He should stay like that for quite some time.” Ramere dusted off her hands, a smug smile flitting across her face. “Alright, we should go. I don’t want to get caught and brought back to this place.”

Tom nodded and they walked out. Ruth lagged behind a bit, looking at her companions. She fought off a smile. Dwarfs were short, and elves were a little taller than the average human. Tom was roughly six inches higher than Ramere’s waist. Together, they looked like a mother giving her son a tour of a haunted castle. Then she remembered where they were and her smile vanished. They had to get out of the castle safely, or she might never see sunlight again.