Dead Man's Gambit

A day after Luach and I survived our 2-on-2 deathmatch, I sat down with the other members of the Bewitched to discuss what Cethlenn had told me. We’ve gathered in the kitchen of our spacious prison quarters, where I’ve just finished relaying everything to Gunther and Siabahn.

Luach is present as well. Both of us are covered in bandages from our multiple injuries, though she had it worse than me. When she passed out after our battle I had feared her life was in danger, but Rosa assured me that had just been the result of her fatigue coupled with the blood loss. Thanks to her treatments, Luach is making a quick recovery.

And Rosa herself is sitting besides her, checking on the cut across her back. Rosa has been allowed to make regular visits to our quarters to check on Luach, part of what little Cethlenn mentioned she could do for us. I’m glad she can be present for the escape talks.

“So that’s what she told you?” Gunther asks.

I nod, fully aware of how surprising it sounds.

“It’s a trap,” he states. “She’s luring us into trying just so she can catch us and prove how futile it is.”

“We have every reason to be suspicious of her,” Siabahn agrees, “but can we afford to be? I for one fully believe that Nuren will set us up to die. Luach and Leo almost did already.”

Gunther crosses his arms, leaning back on his chair, deep in thought.

“Look,” I start, “I fully understand that you don’t trust Cethlenn, but we can’t just do the opposite of anything she says. She tells us to escape and we’ll just sit here? Don’t tell me you weren’t already working on a plan.”

None of the Bewitched struck me as battle junkies, and their distaste for Cethlenn was obvious enough. Since the only thing keeping them here was the lock on the door, and they’ve been stuck here since who knows when, I would’ve bet anything on them already having some sort of escape plan in the works. I had just been waiting for the right moment to ask because pressing for it could’ve made me look suspicious.

Gunther and Siabahn share a glance. The cat man shrugs. “He saved Luach.”

“That he did,” Gunther agrees. “Alright Leo, I believe we can trust you with this. Elbows off the table.”

“Huh? Sure.” I lean away from our kitchen table. With impressive ease, Gunther carefully flips the table and lays it upside-down on the floor.

I could not believe my eyes. The entire underside of the table was covered with notes, diagrams, timetables, even a crude map with routes marked, all drawn in chalk. To think they had so much work cleverly hidden in plain sight.

That or Nuren’s men just sucked at inspections. Did they do inspections at all?

“So, what we currently have is pretty straightforward,” Gunther explains as he points to the crude map. “There’s a storage space not that far from here. Plan is, we break out of the cell, rush the storage, find spare gang clothes and gunpowder barrels, light the barrels to create an explosion that brings down the tunnel, then walk out disguised as guards while they think we blew ourselves up.”

I stare at Gunther, wondering if he’s serious. To my dismay, he fully seems to be.

He cranes his neck, uncomfortable by my skeptical glance. “I’ll admit, this plan does have some issues…”

“Namely that we aren’t sure if there really is gunpowder or spare uniforms stored there, surviving the explosion comes down to luck, and we have no idea how we’ll escape the penal city assuming we even make it out of the mine.” Siabahn smiles helpfully. “Though we would make our very best effort.”

Gunther has gone from looking reasonably unsure to embarrassed. For such a big man, that would be funny if it wasn’t also incredibly concerning.

“Uhm, do you have a plan to get past the hound girl?”

“...who?” Gunther asks, suddenly concerned.

“The uhm… I don’t know if dog woman is the right word,” though it certainly beats the alternative, “but when Rosa and I arrived, there was a woman at the front desk that sniffed us both. I hadn’t really thought about it until now, but would she be able to tell us apart by our scent?”

“Did this woman have brown hair, droopy ears, a tired expression?”

I nod. “Yes to all three.”

“Dammit all!” Gunther booms, standing from his seat and pacing around the room angrily. “That’s Glina! Was she wearing Nuren’s colors? That fucking traitor!”

Despite my better judgement, Gunther’s outburst still spooks me a little. I look at Siabahn, begging for an explanation. He looks disheartened as well. “That woman you met, Glina, used to be an ally of ours. Not a Bewitched exactly, but still someone that was brought here with us. She is an expert tracker and, just as you suggested, has an exceptional sense of smell even among hound Werekin.”

“Werekin? You mean like you?”

Siabahn smiles politely, though he does tilt his head curiously. “Oh no, not like me. I’m a lynx Werekin, after all. Very different lineages, though we can discuss that some other time.”

I nod my head apologetically. That was rude of me. “Yes, sorry. Anyway, so you’re saying this Glina woman could recognize us by our scent even if we’re disguised as guards.”

“Precisely,” Siabahn confirms. “We weren’t aware Nuren had recruited her. With her involved, it’s almost certain that the guards will catch up to us no matter what we do.”

“Unless we can somehow cover our tracks,” I ponder, but set aside that thought for now. “And what about the shackles we’re all wearing? The moment they think we’re escaping they could just paralyze us all.”

“It doesn’t quite work that way. The shackles can only be activated at relatively close range and only Nuren’s lieutenants have the control ring.” Siabahn must be talking about that glowing ring Nuren was wearing when it happened to me. “Though you’re right that they’re a major issue. With them on, fighting is not an option; we’ll be incapacitated as soon as they catch up.”

So we’re all wearing collars that will disable us immediately at close range, while they have a tracker that could find us anywhere and won’t be fooled by a disguise. It’s no surprise Gunther didn’t take the news well; Nuren has a perfect set of win conditions already in place.

Yet I refuse to give up. If walking out through the stronghold is not a choice, then we just need to get a bit creative. Fortunately for me, the Prisoner recalls a myriad escape attempts from past inmates far more creative and crazy than any of us.

“What if we escape through the flooded tunnels?” Gunther stops pacing the room to look at me. The Prisoner’s memories are not entirely clear, but I squeeze them for as many details as they can give. “I… believe that there was once a section of the mine that ran under Zedia’s central lake. But during a cave-in, those tunnels flooded and were abandoned. A few inmates in the past have tried to escape by reaching the fissure and swimming up to the lake’s shore.”

Gunther nods slowly. “And how many of those inmates managed to escape?”

None. All those memories end with the would-be escapees drowning in the maze of submerged tunnels. I don’t need to say as much; Gunther reads it on my face.

“But the route is there,” I insist. “I’m fairly certain the fissure is still open. If we could steal an oxygen tank or something similar we could-”

“Forget about it,” Gunther interrupts. “And you thought my plan was bad? That’s a complete death sentence.”

“That uhm… that might not necessarily be the case.”

All of us turn to Rosa, who flusters under our combined gaze. “Since Leo mentioned it, I seem to recall there was a box marked with Egard’s insignia up in the ground floor storage room.”

“Egard?” I ask.

“The Imperial God of craftsmanship and science. His is also the insignia of the Imperial College. I asked the head of the infirmary about it. He’s been here since before Nuren took over, you see. He told me it was equipment that was brought in to deal with a flood, but the problem couldn’t be fixed and so it was just stashed away. Then Nuren ended up taking over before it could be sent back.”

“Is it something that would let us get through the flooded tunnels?”

“Hmm, it’s very likely to be something to that effect,” Siabahn comments. “If the plan was to seal the fissure so the water could be pumped out, then they would have begun by conducting surveys of the submerged tunnels, which is what that equipment was likely for. They must have determined that the damage could not be fixed.”

“And that means the fissure…”

“Is very likely to still be open,” Siabahn completes for me, “as you said.”

Gunther rubs his chin pensively. “That equipment must be pretty old. We can’t be certain of what it’s for or even if it still works. Besides, we don’t know those tunnels and it’s not the sort of place where we can afford to get lost.”

“I can lead the way,” I announce. “I vaguely remember the layout of the tunnels. I’m sure I’ll be able to find our way to the fissure.”

“Like those inmates you mentioned did?” Gunther questions.

“There’s not just them. There’s also the miners that worked that section, that were there when the flood happened. Some of them saw the fissure breaking open with their own eyes. I know I can find it.”

“Leo.” Gunther looks directly at me, firm, serious. “One wrong turn down there could get us all killed. Are you ready to handle that?”

One wrong turn into a dead end tunnel and we will meet the same fate as those brave, reckless inmates. The Prisoner remembers that as well, the terror of feeling around in the murky water and finding only walls, the despair of the body clamoring for breath, the agony of the lungs filling with water… It’s a terrible way to die.

And if I fail, all of us here, Gunther, Siabahn, Luach and Rosa, we will all meet our end that way, just another etch on the Prisoner’s story.

I match Gunther’s gaze, knowing what I must say but suddenly missing the guts to say it.

“I trust Leo.”

Luach’s sudden words break the tension. “Are you sure?” Gunther asks.

“Yes. If he says he can do it, I will follow him into those tunnels. Even if we die, I’d rather die trying.”

“I trust him as well,” Rosa adds. “With the protection of the nameless god, I’m sure he will find the way.”

Gunther finally glances at Siabahn. The cat man shrugs, ever smiling. “What choice do we have?”

Gunther looks at the chalked up table, the plan they had laid out over who knows how long, through who knows how many cumulative efforts, imperfect as it was. He sighs. “Leo?”

“I’ll do it,” I declare, feeling my resolve rekindled. “I won’t let you down.”

“Then we have our plan.” He pauses for a moment, pained by what he is about to say. “Tsk, Rosa? Send word to the witch that we could use her help getting that crate down here. If everything goes well, we’ll break out of here tomorrow.”

—-

We spent the day next in preparation for the escape, resting our bodies and readying our minds. When Rosa made her visit at her usual time, she gave us some good news. “Miss Cethlenn said she’d handle it. The equipment will be waiting for us at the entrance of the flooded tunnels.”

“Could you verify what it was?” Gunther asked her.

Rosa smiled wide. “Yes, and it’s as we hoped. We will be able to cross the flooded tunnels with it.”

A little more details than that would’ve been greatly appreciated, but it seemed like Rosa wished to make it a surprise. I’m not particularly fond of surprises, least of all in current circumstances, but I didn’t have the heart to press Rosa about it. I was far too busy stressing about my own part to play.

Before I realized, Siabahn came to collect me. “It’s almost time, Leo.”

I do not have any personal items. My wallet, my phone, my house keys, even my work apron were all stolen when I lost consciousness to Cethlenn’s hex. There’s nothing for me to gather but my wits and the dragon’s egg, which I stash safely in the satchel I never returned to the armory. All that’s left is to wait at the kitchen with everyone, anticipating for the moment when the guards return to fetch Rosa.

Soon enough, there’s a knock on the door and the peep hatch slides open. “Call the healer out! Everyone else stand back from the door!”

“Go,” Gunther tells Rosa, hiding at an angle just out of sight. Pressing her lips together, Rosa heads over, saying “I’m here,” to announce her presence.

The guards check that nobody else is around, but it’s only after they crack open the door that they see the chair Rosa is holding. One of the guards chuckles. “What’s that for? They gave it to you as a gift or someth-“

“I’m sorry!” Rosa cries as she jams the door against the doorframe. Gunther rushes out of hiding as soon as he hears the thud, gripping a club he fashioned from a table leg.

“What the-?!” one of the guards gasps. “Close the door! Close it!” They try to pull the heavy door shut, but Rosa’s chair jams it open. “Fuck!”

They try to kick the chair back in, but Rosa holds it long enough for Gunther to slip through the crack. All we hear of the struggle outside are the grunts and cries from the guards, each silenced by the dry thuds of Gunther’s club.

Finally, Gunther pushes the door open. “Clear. Let’s go, people!”

Luach and Siabahn go out first. I lag a little behind helping Rosa, who is a little shaken by what she just did. “Good job.”

“Aah, I’m sorry…” she says in a small voice. Even as we leave, she doesn’t forget to give an apologetic bow to each of the knocked out guards.

Though as I step out myself, I’m surprised to see one of the guards is still up, the only one that was Cethlenn’s and not Nuren’s. He is standing over the fallen body of another guard, one that tried running for help and would have gotten away from Gunther if he wasn’t there to catch him.

“Thanks,” Gunther tells him as the rest of us walk past and head down a different tunnel, though I stick around to listen.

“Don’t mention it,” says the man as he takes out a small case of dark powder from his jacket and starts to dust his chin. “The mistress sends word that the crate you requested is already set in place, along with her best wishes. The priestess can lead you to the correct spot.”

The man finishes applying the makeup, faking dirt and a bruise. “Now you should hurry. In a few minutes I’ll be forced to raise the alarm to keep up appearances. Be gone by then.”

“Fair enough,” Gunther says. “Only next time, you can skip on the makeup. I’d be glad to give you a real bruise for free.”

The mysterious man narrows his eyes at Gunther, but we don’t stick around to keep the banter going. Our group spends the next several minutes sneaking through the mine, following Rosa down seldom-used side tunnels that lead deeper underground. It’s obvious that the guards don’t expect anyone to try and escape this way because patrols are few and sparse, easily avoided.

Eventually we reach a section of the mine where the air feels thick and humid. We turn the corner into a tunnel that slopes down and find the way blocked by murky water. “This is the place,” Rosa says.

“Alright, but where is this thing…?” I look around and spot a wooden crate stashed just behind a nook in the wall, at the perfect angle where anyone might easily miss it if they aren’t already searching. Gunther helps me pull it out of its spot, and together we snap open the latches and slide the lid off.

There is a pair of gauntlets inside. Plain, simple leather gloves, just studded with aquamarine gemstones on the knuckles and the back of the hands.

My heart sinks. Not a diving helmet, not an oxygen tank, nothing. Just a pair of gloves that cannot decide whether to be fancy or plain. “W-what the hell is this…?”

But Gunther whistles impressed. “They just had these lying around?”

“What are they?”

Rosa gently pushes me aside. “I will gladly demonstrate.” She slides the gloves on, flexing her fingers, and steps to the edge of the water.

She takes a deep breath. Slowly, she reaches her hands towards the water, palms facing forward. The aquamarine studs on the gloves begin to shimmer, the murky surface ripples. Rosa steps forward and claws the air as if trying to force open a sliding door. Slowly, as Rosa spreads her hands, the water blocking the tunnel parts right before my astonished eyes, flowing up the walls and onto the ceiling in defiance of gravity to open the way through.

“Water control gloves?!”

“Hydrokinetic manipulators,” Rosa clarifies. “They allow the user to-“

A sudden crack interrupts Rosa. One of the gemstones on the gloves spontaneously shattered, scattering fragments in all directions. “O-oh dear…”

“What’s the matter?”

“These stones are too old. The effort is tearing them apart!”

“Is that bad?”

“I’ll lose power with every one that breaks.”

“Can you hold them together?” Siabahn interjects.

“I-I’ll try,” Rosa hesitantly says. “But I don’t know how long they’ll last.”

“All the more reason to hurry.” Gunther gives me an encouraging push down into the tunnel. “Lead the way, Leo.”

It’s now or never. Placing all of my faith in the Prisoner’s memories, I take a deep breath and step into the tunnel. The others follow me, huddling close to Rosa as she maintains a bubble around us. The tunnel behind us quickly floods again, leaving only the path forward.

I can only hope we find our way through before the last of Rosa’s gemstones shatters.