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Chapter 40. Trap

  Chapter 40. Trap

  One longsword, one longspear, six throwing swords, one battleaxe, two short spears, one dagger, one set of leather armor, Delilah's new breastplate, and a smattering of magical doodads.

  He had a splitting headache and his hands would never be the same. But he never stopped working over the two days, kept focused by the knowledge that this equipment stood between his friends and death.

  Jeremiah inspected his final creation, a dagger especially for him. Well, he technically used a shortspear too, but that was Allison’s. He just borrowed it. The dagger was his.

  He owned a magic weapon! The idea seemed ludicrous. Magic blades were wielded by the heroes of childhood story books, not Jeremiah. He added it to the bundle of equipment and tossed the bundle into the Giant's Bag. It was time to share his work with his friends.

  He entered the living room with a fight already in progress.

  “Absolutely not!” yelled Allison, “you got the Giant’s Bag, Bruno got his bow before that, it’s my turn to get a magic item! So I go first!”

  “The Giant’s Bag is a team item!” retorted Delilah, “we all use it, and I use it on your behalf! That’s like, half a magic item at most.”

  “No, you’re both wrong, I get the first item,” said Bruno, “Jay and I have a bond. The sacred bond of the street. You don’t even know. You don’t even know!”

  “There is no bond greater than teacher and student,” said Allison.

  “Hi guys,” said Jeremiah.

  “I could pay anyone to teach Jay how to jab with a spear. What I had to teach him you can’t put a price on!” said Bruno.

  “Pay with what money?!” said Delilah, “I’ve juggled both of your finances for years, and his, from my house, that you all lived in, rent free.”

  Hi guys,” said Jeremiah.

  “You have nothing, you have no stake in this,” said Allison to Delilah, “and you better not just bat your eyelashes at him and-”

  “I would never! How dare you!”

  “Oh, you would! You would,” said Bruno.

  “It’s great to see you all too. I’m fine, malnourished, splitting headache, hand cramps, the usual. Tea? No, I’m good. Food? Well, I am starving, I suppose,” said Jeremiah. Nothing broke through. He sat at the table and pulled the Giant’s Bag over to himself while his friends continued to argue.

  “The bag should decide!” declared Allison.

  “Elaborate immediately,” said Delilah.

  “The bag can read his thoughts, right? So when Jay gets here, we’ll have him reach in and pull out the first thing that comes to mind. Whoever’s object he thinks about first will appear in his hand.”

  “When Jay gets here,” thought Jeremiah. He thought he should be offended, but his friends were just so excited he couldn’t be bothered.

  “Unworthy!” Jeremiah shouted.

  “AAAAH!” his friends simultaneously screamed, startled by his presence.

  “Each of you are unworthy of the gifts I’ve come to bestow upon you.”

  “How did he do that? Can Jay turn invisible?” Allison asked Delilah. Delilah shrugged and shook her head at the same time.

  “He’s learned so much…” said Bruno.

  “But I suppose I am a generous mage. So I will bestow upon thee the gifts I have created.” He put his hand in the Giant’s Bag and let his gaze travel between them.

  Bruno gave Jeremiah a stern and affirming nod. One that spoke of brotherhood and shared burdens.

  Allison’s eyes were wide and pleading, her lip nearly quivering in eagerness. It was a look she had used before that stabbed right at his heartstrings.

  Delilah batted her eyelashes at him, just once, slowly. He had no chance.

  Up from the bag came a handheld metal sphere, roughly the size of a large orange. He sighed, and tossed it to Delilah who screeched in delight as she caught it.

  “Betrayer!” Allison and Bruno yelled, or something to that effect, Jeremiah rapidly began tossing out everything he had made to distract them from their disappointment…and making a comment on why it had been Delilah that got one first.

  “Bruno! Quick throw that chair at me!” shouted Allison. He threw it without hesitation and she cleaved it in half with her new sword, the wood parting like paper.

  What followed was the total destruction of every piece of furniture in the house, some used up metal plates, old pieces of armor Allison had, and some rocks they got from outside.

  “This actually poses a bit of a problem,” said Delilah. She was trying to yank her spear back out of the wall. It punched through much easier, but didn’t come out easier.

  “Happy with that problem,” said Allison.

  “Jay! Stab me with your spear!” said Bruno, exposing his leather armored chest to Jeremiah.

  Jeremiah thrust the spear into Bruno’s chest, again, and just like the last few times, it left only the tiniest mar in the material. Barely a scratch.

  “It’s about as strong as non-magic plate,” said Jeremiah, “Delilah your breastplate is as strong as Allison’s armor, but obviously you’ve got a lot less armor overall, so don’t get careless. A reminder; I am not as good an enchanter as Thurok. So if your stuff gets too damaged, it might not work anymore.” No one was listening.

  “Tell me what this does!” Delilah yelled at the ball she had received first. It was a palm sized metal sphere, covered in lines like a globe meant for navigation, and fit comfortably in the hand.

  He was both proud of and somewhat embarrassed by this one. “I’ll show you. Touch the contact point, just like this, to start the enchantment. The metal will get harder and more brittle, until…”

  Jeremiah heaved the sphere against the wall. Upon impact, the sphere shattered, sending razor sharp metal fragments everywhere.

  “They’re hollow too, with a little fill valve,” Jeremiah continued. “You can put whatever you want inside. They’re pretty easy to make, so there’s a bunch in there. I’m not sure if that’s useful or good or…” he was suddenly feeling anxious again. Giving Delilah things was hard.

  “Oh, I’m sure I can think of something,” said Delilah. She picked up some of the metal fragments from the shattered ball and began to inspect it closely.

  “Me! Me, me, me! What did you make for me?” Bruno raised his hand and jumped up and down.

  “Besides your new armor and your six throwing swords, I made you these,” Jeremiah held up the gloves.

  Bruno snatched them before Jeremiah could blink. “What are they? Can I shoot lightning?”

  “No, and I wouldn’t give you gloves that shoot lightning even if I could,” said Jeremiah. “They're gloves of climbing. Sort of.”

  Bruno pressed a gloved hand against the wall and tried to slide it. “Oh, like grip gloves. Yeah, I’ve got a few pairs of these.”

  “Which is why I ended up going back to an earlier design that helped me out of a jam once. Not as subtle, but…”

  Jeremiah produced a refined version of the bricks he had used to scale Madam Furchot’s tower. They were a pair of a thin wooden squares with a curved handle protruding from the back.

  “These might do the trick. If you touch here, it’ll stick to just about any surface. Stop touching, and it will release. Let me show you.”

  He had been looking forward to this part. Jeremiah took the handles and faced his old arch-nemesis—the living room wall. He pressed the squares against it, touched the Contact points, and pulled himself upward. Then he released the contact point, moved his hand, and retouched the contact.

  Slowly, but surely, Jeremiah began to circumnavigate the room. He reached the doorway to Allison and Delilah’s room.

  “Everybody watching?” he said. It was so unfair he couldn’t see their faces right now. He stuck the handle to the lintel of the door frame, and hung from one hand, suspended on a handle attached to nothing. “Tadaaa!”

  “Jeremiah Thorn,” said Bruno gravely, “if you do not give me those this very moment, I will kill you and steal them.”

  “All yours,” said Jeremiah, dropping down.

  Bruno grabbed the handles and launched himself at a wall. Bruno mastered the item in mere moments, and began to properly scamper around the room. Hand over hand, faster and faster, incorporating longer and longer jumps and last minute attachments to walls, Bruno swung like a monkey and stuck like a bug.

  “The game has changed!” declared Bruno, before scrambling up to the ceiling. The ceiling however was not as convinced, and a segment of plaster detached as Bruno swung, producing a rain of particles and sending Bruno into a rolling recovery. Bruno lay there hugging the handles to his chest and rocking back and forth, “Jay! Jay this is so unfair! You have no idea how unfair this is!” Bruno laughed.

  “I wanna turn!” said Allison.

  “Yeah I want to try!” said Delilah.

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  “No! Mine!” Bruno shouted.

  Jeremiah looked to Allison and found her staring expectantly at him, clutching all of her weapons to her chest at once.

  “Allison, I’m sorry to say I couldn’t really think of anything novel or interesting to make for you. Just the enchanted axe, spear, sword, and dagger.” said Jeremiah. Allison nodded, her soldier’s stoicism swiftly concealing any disappointment. “Which is why I made you something a little boring.”

  He handed her a sharpening stone, its underside inscribed with a Strengthen enchantment. “Magic weapons are very difficult to sharpen, but this should do the trick. It’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

  Allison took the stone and dropped to the ground instantly, beginning to silently sharpen her new magic sword in a rhythmic, almost ritualistic fashion. Her eyes were half lidded and she seemed to be somewhere else completely.

  Jereiah took a moment to watch his friends play with their new toys and destroy the apartment. What was it he had been missing? What was here that wasn’t at Cell Four’s apartment? It was warmth, Jeremiah realized. He had a bond with Cell Four, he really did, but it was different. It was transactional, there was an expectation. His friends here; Bruno, Allison, and Delilah, they cared about him as a person, regardless of what he could provide them. He loved them for that. He knew they loved him too.

  But they still had a job to do. “Alright, everyone,” he said. “gather what you need. It’s time to go.”

  Delilah, Allison, and Bruno stopped in their tracks. “Where’d that voice come from?” said Delilah.

  “You hear that? Jay’s crackin’ the whip,” laughed Bruno.

  “He’s right,” said Allison. “Let’s get our heads straight, We’re bringing the Giant’s Bag, but keep anything critical on your person—if the bag gets destroyed, we still need to be effective.”

  “Don’t even speak such things,” said Delilah.

  “Let’s wreck a dungeon,” said Allison.

  ?

  “This is stupid,” said Dronkal.

  “Very,” said Shugga, “you just joined, why kill yourself now?”

  “I gotta do it,” said Jeremiah. He had stopped home to let his cell mates know that he was taking on the Gilded Vault. Friends or not, they had been the first source of real comfort he’d known since living on the streets. They cared about him, in their way. It seemed only fair.

  Sweet Melissa pouted. “I’ll miss you. We could have had a lot of fun together, you know.”

  Jeremiah bent to pet Miggy and she wound around his legs. “I’m…sure we could have. I might not die, you know.”

  “Yeah, there’s still time for you to come to your senses,” said Shugga.

  “You said you have to. Why? What’s making you do this?” asked Dronkal. He began pacing back and forth in the apartment.

  “Just something from Monty,” said Jeremiah. Miggy bit him.

  “Jay, let me talk to Monty for you,” said Dronkal, moving to stand between Jeremiah and the door, “I’m sure this is just some kind of misunderstanding. He’s got no reason to send you in there.”

  “He was clear,” said Jeremiah. “This has got to get done. And if I don’t happen to see you again, thanks. For taking care of me.” Jeremiah went to leave, but Dronkal didn’t move.

  “You’re family. You know that right?” said Dronkal.

  “I know Dronk, I know,” said Jeremiah.

  “Try to come back.” Dronkal stepped aside and let Jeremiah pass.

  And then he was gone, letting the slope of the Pit carry him towards the gleaming jewel at its center. The weight of the armored shirt Thurok had made was comforting. He carried the Giant’s Bag over his shoulder. He and his friends were equipped. They were experienced. They were ready.

  Up close, the Gilded Vault was immense. The lustrous gold facade glared down at him, nearly blinding in the sunlight. Guards patrolling grounds and rooftop took notice of Jeremiah, but remained at their posts. The nearest gave him a friendly nod.

  Jeremiah had already decided that any dungeon meant to be a test of a thief’s skill would punish entering through the front door. Why else would Cassidy have placed all those windows? He carefully set up his ladder to access a second story window, careful not to bump the glass, lest the aloof guards turn hostile.

  “Want me to hold that?” A smiling guard had approached.

  “Uhh, sure! Are you allowed to do that?” asked Jeremiah.

  “As long as you don’t damage the house,” said the guard. He took a firm grip on the ladder, holding it steady. Jeremiah climbed up to the window. This seemed too easy.

  “It’s unlocked,” called the guard. “You can just go right in.”

  The window’s frosted glass offered no insights into what lay beyond. “Thanks…uhh…any idea what’s in there?” asked Jeremiah. Might as well check how far this generosity went.

  “No idea. But I always hear screams when people enter through the front door, so this is as good an idea as it gets.”

  Jeremiah took some comfort in that and examined the window, trying to look as closely for traps or alarms as Bruno would. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

  The window slid open with silky smoothness, revealing an elegant smoking room within. There were upholstered sofas, cabinetry, plush chairs and small tables. It appeared ready to receive guests at any moment.

  “ Where’s the spinning blades ?” wondered Jeremiah. “ Where’s the pit of spikes? ” He had assumed there would be countless spikes.

  The floor below the window was unremarkable, just a typical hardwood floor. Jeremiah tossed the Giant’s Bag through first, then leaned through the window, scanning side to side for imminent threats.

  The window sill shifted, there was a click, and the window slammed shut on Jeremiah’s back, forcing the air from his lungs. His back and ribs screamed in pain as he tried to reach back to pull the window open again, but pulled his hand back wet with blood. Glancing back, he saw a wide, blade protruding along the bottom of the window sash like a guillotine. It was so sharp Jeremiah didn’t even feel it cut him.

  He stretched his hand to where the Giant’s Bag sat on the floor, barely reaching his fingertips inside to retrieve his enchanted dagger. Wedging it beneath the window’s blade, he was able to wriggle through without any further damage to his body.

  Jeremiah landed on the floor in a ball, waiting for another trap to spring. Nothing happened. He inspected his wounds. His palm had sustained a shallow cut and shirt was torn, the flexible armor was the only thing that saved him from being disemboweled.

  He opened the Giant’s Bag. “Everyone out!”

  Bruno came out first, instantly dropping to the ground and scanning the room. Delilah and Allison climbed through next.

  “What the hell, Jay? We just got here,” said Delilah. She retrieved a roll of bandages from the Giant’s Bag and quickly wrapped Jeremiah’s hand.

  “Window trap,” said Jeremiah.

  Bruno sprang to the window. “Where’s the trigger?”

  “I think it’s in the sill,” said Jeremiah.

  Bruno inspected the sill, the sash, and the blade itself. “Not poisoned, that’s a relief.”

  Allison braced the window open just long enough for Jeremiah to retrieve his dagger before it slammed shut again.

  “That’s meant to remove fingers,” said Bruno, “you’re lucky you, apparently, just flopped through.”

  “Hush, we’re on mission,” said Allison. “Bruno, you’re our guide through this nonsense.”

  “This is a deathtrap dungeon,” said Bruno. “It exists for the sole purpose of attracting adventurers such as ourselves. They are very rare, for good reason, and tend to have fewer defenders and more traps. Many more.” Bruno glanced around the room. “Granted, most deathtraps don’t look like this.”

  “Yeah, this is rather lovely,” said Delilah. A tall display case caught her eye. It contained a small library of only the thickest, most gilded volumes. Delilah stepped closer to take a better look.

  “Don’t!” Bruno shouted. He yanked her back just as the glass on the display case exploded. The books, which were actually expertly painted metal blocks, flew from the display case at crushing speeds. Thanks to Bruno, Delilah caught one in the upper arm instead of the face. She spun from the hit, crying out as she dropped to the floor.

  Allison hauled Delilah back to the window, interposing her shield between Delilah and everything. “You okay?”

  “It was just a glance,” said Delilah. She flexed her arm, where an angry bruise was already forming. “Not broken. Thanks, Bruno.”

  “Don’t. Touch. Anything,” said Bruno, pointing at them each in turn.

  “I didn’t!” said Delilah.

  “The trigger was under the rug, wasn’t it?” asked Jeremiah.

  “Yes! Go on,” said Bruno.

  “Go on about what?” Jeremiah frowned. What else was there to say?

  “How does that fit in with what we know?” asked Bruno “How does it serve the dungeon’s purpose? What does it tell us about the creator? We need to understand how this place works if we want to survive.”

  “The purpose of a dungeon is to keep people out, isn’t it?” asked Allison. She kept pointing her shield at different things in the smoking room, trying to anticipate the next threat.

  “It’s not,” said Delilah. “Cassidy invited people here, it’s a trap to kill people.”

  “No, he wanted to test them,” said Jeremiah, “Failing the test means you die, but his goal wasn’t just to kill people.”

  “Correct!” said Bruno. He picked up one of the metal blocks with a grunt, and heaved it onto a plush armchair. They stared as the chair snapped shut like a giant mouth, complete with serrated teeth bursting from the cushions.

  “Alright, Bruno, lead the way,” said Allison. “I don’t even want to move.”

  Bruno flopped onto the ground and began inspecting every fiber of the carpet. “Let’s do this.”

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