Sanity is forbidden Circulation: 195,555,499 Issue: 862 | 12th day of Eating, Y21
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Shadow Play:Part Seven


by cosmicfire918

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     Terra and her family ate breakfast in their suite the next morning. They’d stocked the kitchen with groceries, for days when they didn’t feel like mingling in the cafeteria, and today was one of those days. Terra liked the extra bit of downtime to lounge in her pajamas, and after the emotional whirlwind of yesterday, she wanted to give herself some extra TLC.

      She’d just taken a bite of her rainbow toast when someone knocked softly at the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” Isengrim said. He was the sort of person who automatically assumed door-answering duty because he wanted to protect everyone else. Hyren was the same way, but the Grundo had conceded that role to Isengrim for now, simply because the Werelupe looked more imposing.

      “Ah—good morning, Zoltan,” Isengrim said. Terra tensed a bit and concentrated hard on her toast, hoping Zoltan would not notice her, or at least would not have anything critical to say about her.

      “Good morning,” the Kyrii replied, clearly more out of politeness than because he truly found anything good about the morning. The harsh edge seemed to have gone out of his tone—Terra wondered if he’d overheard her conversation with Isengrim in the hall last night. She couldn’t decide whether that would be beneficial or embarrassing. Probably both, but if it was beneficial she was okay with it.

      “What brings you to our door?” Isengrim asked. His mannerisms were cordial, but his ears were high and forward, giving off the signal that he was ready to defend his family at a moment’s notice.

      Zoltan shifted his weight. “The Defenders have summoned me to their morning meeting,” he said, sounding uncertain. “I am sure it has something to do with the business of the other mages they hired, but it sounds as if they also want me to present any findings in my research. I don’t think that’s any of their business—I just want to be left alone with my work. I was hoping you could persuade them to stop pestering me.”

      Isengrim paused. “I am sure you have been labouring tirelessly in your magicks,” he said. “However, I think perhaps it is their business. They have been trying to find Malkus Vile for years, after all, and they generously allowed you to stay here. The least you can do is give them an update.” When Zoltan did not answer, Isengrim added, “Would you like me to accompany you?”

      The Kyrii let out a breath. “I… think it would go better if you were there,” he said.

      “Hey, I’d like to come too,” Hyren said, throwing his banana peel in the garbage. “I’m not just going to sit here and wait for this whole thing to blow over. I want to know what’s going on, and see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

      “Me too!” Blynn said through a mouthful of Robo Crunch cereal. Terra was reluctant to say anything in front of Zoltan, but she wanted to come as well—she felt the same as Hyren and Blynn.

      Before Zoltan could reply, Isengrim said, “I think that’s a good idea. Zoltan, my family and I will come with you. When is the meeting?”

      “In ten minutes,” Zoltan said, giving Terra and her family a dubious look. Blynn returned it with a grin, while Terra did her best to ignore him as she moved to her bedroom to get ready.

      Isengrim nodded. “Shall we meet you there,” he asked, “or will you wait for us?”

      “I’ll wait,” Zoltan said quietly.

      “We’ll be out soon, then,” Isengrim said.

      Once Terra was ready, they departed. Again they had to take separate lifts, and Isengrim insisted on bringing Terra with him. Zoltan readily agreed, and he rode with Blynn and Hyren. Terra and her Neopets knew from their explorations where the Defenders’ conference room was, and soon enough they were all collected in the same lobby.

      They walked through the lobby doors, and into a large room filled with superheroes sitting around a long table. All of the Defenders Terra knew about were there, and she guessed they held meetings in the mornings in order to accommodate every Defender, including the nocturnal ones. Some of the superheroes waved to them, and Terra’s family waved back.

      At one end of the table was an enormous Virtupets computer screen displaying what looked like various minutiae, and Lightning Lenny stood next to it, his wings hovering over its control console. Judge Hog sat nearby, pouring himself a glass of water.

      “Don’t worry,” the Moehog said to Terra’s group, “we wouldn’t have started without you. Please, take a seat anywhere you like.” Some of the Defenders scooted over to leave enough chairs for Zoltan and Terra’s family to sit together. Zoltan sat down reluctantly, and Isengrim sat between him and the Werelupe’s owner and siblings.

      Hyren looked over the computer and said, “I thought you guys didn’t use much Virtupets technology.”

      “This is one of the exceptions,” Lightning Lenny said, patting the console affectionately. “I insisted on it. Makes mission planning a whole lot easier. And I’m the one who takes care of it, so we don’t have to worry about hiring a certified engineer.”

      “What’s the power supply?” Hyren asked. “Antimatter generator like on the space station?”

      “Afraid not,” Lightning Lenny said. “I don’t think Judge Hog would let me keep one of those at HQ even if I knew how to maintain it. Nah, this and the other Virtupets technology in the city have special power adapters that allow them to connect to the faerie-dust power grid.”

      “Whoa, fancy,” Hyren said.

      “And that’s not all!” Lightning Lenny said. “The graphics card alone on this baby is enough to make me weak at the knees, never mind the processing power! And the bandwidth to handle all the video feeds—“

      Judge Hog cleared his throat, and the other superhero ceased his geeking out. “Anyway,” the Moehog said. “Thank you for coming.”

      “Is this about the other mages you hired?” Isengrim asked.

      Judge Hog nodded. “They’ve been let go as of this morning,” he said. “We informed them that their services were no longer needed, as the Defenders decided to instead handle this issue in-house.” He grinned. “Which is technically true, since Mr. Arnyek is staying here.”

      “Well played,” Blynn said.

      “Hopefully,” Judge Hog said, “that’ll throw off the scent for any of them who were working for Vile. I didn’t want to give them the suspicion that we had another mage on the case.”

      “I explained to him what you told me last night,” Blackwing said to Zoltan. “I don’t want anybody interfering with your magical procedures.”

      “Thank you,” Zoltan muttered, looking out of his element. Terra felt bad for him. He probably hated working with a team.

      Judge Hog steepled his fingers. “Mr. Arnyek,” he said, “have you been able to make any headway on this spell?”

      Zoltan sat up straighter, his ears turning back a bit as everyone looked at him. Nervously, he stroked his beard. “Actually—as a matter of fact, I have,” he said. “I performed a rather intensive scrying last night and got some good results.” Everyone’s silence, and an encouraging smile from Isengrim, prompted the Kyrii to continue. “Malkus Vile’s spell appears to be sustained by several magical artefacts placed around Neopia Central. If I can collect these artefacts and neutralise them, the spell over the city will break, and I will be able to locate Vile directly.”

      Murmurs broke out around the table, and Judge Hog said, “Let us help you with that. It’ll go quicker with more than one person searching. Do you know where the artefacts are?”

      “I do,” Zoltan said, “but—I would hate to get you involved in this. I… usually work alone.”

      Judge Hog smiled. “We already are involved,” he said. “And don’t worry, we can take care of ourselves—we’re superheroes.”

      Isengrim caught Zoltan’s eye and held the mage’s gaze for a moment, and Terra knew they were having one of those silent conversations that can only be carried out by two people who trust each other. Isengrim must have been pleading with Zoltan to accept this help.

      Finally the Kyrii swallowed hard and turned back to Judge Hog. “All right,” Zoltan said. “Can you get me a map?”

      “Coming right up,” Lightning Lenny said, and he moved his wings over the console. The screen changed to an enormous map of the city.

      Zoltan studied the map for a moment. “It’s hard to describe in words,” he said. “Especially because I do not know this city all that well.”

      “Not a problem,” Lightning Lenny said. “Come on over here and you can take the map for a spin.”

      With another smile from Isengrim, Zoltan stood up and made his way over to the console. Lightning Lenny pointed him to a smaller touchscreen that showed the same display as the large screen, and Zoltan took a moment to learn to navigate it with his large paws. Then, frowning in concentration, his magic-streaks glowing, he slowly and deliberately touched a pawpad to five locations on the map, creating markers there.

      “That’s the Rainbow Pool,” Kourage Korbat said as points on the map lit up, “the Presidential Palace, the Pound, the Wishing Well, and…”

      “The old Catacombs,” Blackwing finished.

      “That’s great that we know where the artefacts are,” the Masked Intruder said, “but how will we find them when we get there?”

      Zoltan reached into one of the pouches on his harness and pulled out a handful of necklaces. Suspended on gold chains were what looked like white marbles—with irises and pupils that glanced around at the other occupants of the room.

      “Well that’s… unsettling,” said Aisheena, voicing what they were all thinking.

      “Thank you,” Zoltan said. “These are Amulets of the Unblinking Eye. I can enchant them to direct us to the artefacts, even if you have no sense for magic.” He placed them on the table next to Judge Hog, who stiffened and leaned away slightly from the amulets. “Take good care of them,” the mage said. “They were not easy to obtain.”

      “We—we will, thank you,” Judge Hog said. “What do we do with the artefacts once we find them?”

      “Bring them back here,” Zoltan said, “and I will disconnect them from each other and the spell. Based on what I could learn from my scrying, the nature of the spell is such that moving the artefacts around the city will not destabilise the magic, but destroying any of them will have ill effects, as will attempting to neutralise them if any are left out of the process.” He folded his paws behind his back. “Hopefully securing them will not give us too much trouble.”

      “What do you mean, ‘us’?” Blackwing asked. “Are you coming, too?”

      “Of course,” Zoltan said. “I would not sit back and make you do all my work for me.” He turned back to the map. “What did you say this location was?” he asked, pointing to one of the markers near the centre of the city.

      “The Catacombs,” Blackwing said. “It used to be the happening spot for artists and writers, but a while back the creative contests got moved to Roo Island. Since then, the Catacombs have become much more dangerous as unsavoury types decided to move in. It’s something we’ve tried to keep in check, but considering it’s an enormous cavern system that runs under the city, we can’t keep tabs on it as much as we’d like to. No one’s ever fully explored it, in fact.”

      “The artefact there is giving off the strongest magical signature,” Zoltan said. “I’ll take care of that one. I suspect it may be the most difficult to obtain.”

      Isengrim stood up. “I’m coming with you,” he said. “If you are agreeing to assistance on this mission, then let me assist you in this way. You might need backup. You might need an extra blade.”

      Zoltan stared at him for a moment, then the faintest hint of a smirk crossed the Kyrii’s muzzle. “I hope you know what you are getting yourself into, Lord Isengrim,” he said.

      The Werelupe King grinned toothily in return. “Does it matter?” he asked.

      “We’re coming, too!” Blynn said, and Hyren and Terra nodded.

      Zoltan frowned. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but then his ears lowered and he looked to Isengrim. “Tell them they can’t come,” the mage said.

      “We can help!” Blynn said, slamming her paws on the table. “We know how to take care of ourselves! Tell him, Isengrim! Tell him about the Battle of Sweetwater Fields!”

      Isengrim looked down at her, then back at his old ally. “Let’s discuss this in private,” he said. “But I am assuming the Defenders are going to locate the other four artefacts.”

      “Yes, we are,” Judge Hog said, giving the Amulets of the Unblinking Eyes another uneasy glance. “All right, Defenders, let’s figure out our teams.”

      As they began their discussion, Isengrim led his family back to the lobby, and motioned for Zoltan to join them. Isengrim shut the doors to the conference room to mute the Defenders’ conversation. “I will be perfectly honest,” he said to his family, “I would be worried about you if you came with Zoltan and me.” He paused, then added, “Well, not you, Hyren. Zoltan, my brother may not look it, but he has fought across a thousand worlds in the galaxy. He is not to be underestimated in battle.”

      “I’m much older than I look,” Hyren said.

      “And what am I,” Blynn said, “Mouldy Left-Overs?! And Terra knows how to protect herself, too! Plus she’s got all of us looking out for her!”

      “Isengrim’s just being chivalrous,” Terra said to her Zafara. “And I appreciate that about him.” She rubbed her arm. “But, um… I don’t feel right being left behind, Isengrim. It’s great that you want to protect me, but… Blynn’s right, we’ve always been together on adventures. And… I hope this isn’t bragging, but… it seems things always go better when all of us are involved. Like at Lynwood.”

      Isengrim gave her a long look. “I think you’re right,” he finally said. “I hate to admit it—as much as I’d like to hide you away somewhere safe, you have a way of influencing the outcome of my escapades for good. The Lynwood curse never would have been broken if not for you.”

      “Thanks,” Terra said with a humble smile. “Also… I used to go to the Catacombs a lot back when it still hosted the art and writing contests. I don’t think you guys have ever been there. Hyren never even used to go there.”

      “Not my thing,” Hyren said with a shrug. “While Terra and Blynn were looking at the Art Gallery or browsing the Neopian Times, I was usually over at Battle Magic.”

      “Even though it’s abandoned now,” Terra said, “I don’t imagine too much has changed about the layout of the place. I can help you guys find your way around.”

      Isengrim put a paw to his mouth and thought. He looked over at Zoltan, who glanced at Terra and then turned away with a guilty grimace. “You know,” the Werelupe said quietly, “something in my gut is telling me to bring all of you along. I don’t feel quite right about leaving any of you behind, either.”

      “Yay!” Blynn said, jumping up and punching the air.

      Terra smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “I won’t let you down. And I promise I won’t be a bother.”

      “And I will look out for you,” Isengrim said. “I promise.”

      “I know you will,” Terra said, leaning in to hug him.

      Zoltan looked at her for a moment, and then his gaze moved up to Isengrim. “Are you sure about this?” the Kyrii asked with a rather pained expression.

      “My family possesses rather unique talents,” Isengrim said. “Who can say but what they might be exactly what we need on this mission?”

      “Oh, this’ll be fun!” Blynn said. “I hope I have enough gumballs! Do you think there are any gumball machines between here and the Catacombs?”

      Zoltan gave her a reluctant look and sighed. “I hope you are right,” he said to Isengrim.

     

***

      The Catacombs were a sad husk of their former selves. Terra remembered that, in her adolescence, the main cavern was full of people perusing shops, submitting their art and writing to the galleries, and chatting about the latest issue of the Neopian Times. Now, only the Coin Shop remained open close to the entrance—the other establishments were boarded up and abandoned. A sole, small newsstand near the Coin Shop sold the Neopian Times and a few other periodicals, but the Chia proprietor was napping. And only a handful of people mulled about the cavern besides Terra, her family, and Zoltan. Past what had once been the main hub of activity, the cavern branched off into many tunnels, all shrouded in darkness.

      “This is kinda depressing,” Blynn said. “It’s always sad when a place dies like this.”

      “Right?” Terra said. “As much as I like Roo Island, the Catacombs were a special part of Neopia Central. I have a lot of great memories of this place.” She sighed. “It’s tough when you have a lot of nostalgia for something, and when you revisit it, too much has changed.”

      “All part of growing up, I guess,” Hyren said. “At least you’ll always have those great memories.”

      Terra smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “Blynn, remember that one Neopian Times comic series we loved? With the Lupe and the Meerca?”

      “Oh, that one was awesome!” Blynn said. “I remember we came here every Friday afternoon and hovered around the newsstand until the new Times issues got delivered, and we’d jump straight to the editorial and then the comics!”

      Zoltan watched them for a moment, then looked at Isengrim. “We should keep moving,” the Kyrii said. “The sooner we complete our mission, the better.” He held up the Amulet of the Unblinking Eye that he had brought with him, the chain wrapped around his fist. The eye stared intently at a tunnel tucked away behind the old Art Gallery.

      “Of course,” Isengrim said with a nod. As they moved toward the darkened tunnel, he opened the shutter on his fire mote lantern, and unsheathed his sword.

      “Oh,” Blynn said, “and remember that totally epic story series with the Eyrie and the Zafara? It had us on the edge of our seats every week!”

      “Ahh, seriously!” Terra said. “I couldn’t stand the suspense! I kind of wished we’d asked the author to send us the whole story! A chapter a week wasn’t enough!”

      “I think I remember that one,” Hyren said. “I liked the action scenes. You could tell the author knew what she was talking about when it came to swordplay.” He chuckled. “Blynn, you must have liked it because a Zafara was one of the main characters.”

      “Mmm… nahh, that wasn’t the reason,” Blynn said. “He made some dumb decisions and turned into a villain. That wasn’t cool. But I liked how the rest of his family rallied to help him. That was my favourite part.”

      Terra smiled. “Mine too,” she said. “And everything turned out okay in the end.”

      “I am glad you are enjoying reminiscing,” Isengrim said as the shadows engulfed them, “but perhaps it would be prudent to cease our conversation for the time being. I worry about what might lurk down here. What might be attracted by our noise.”

      “Oh… right,” Terra said, drawing her own sword.

      Hyren and Blynn took out their weapons as well. “You’re a darkness mage, right?” Hyren asked Zoltan. “Can’t you hide us?”

      “Obscuring all of us for an extended period of time would take quite a bit of effort,” Zoltan said. “I would rather conserve my energy for if we have to fight.”

      They let the amulet lead them further down the passageway, which branched off several times and seemed to go ever deeper beneath the city. Terra hoped they’d be able to find their way back out again. Of course, she thought Zoltan could probably just re-enchant the amulet to find the entrance instead of the artefact.

      As they started down another fork in the tunnel, Terra began to notice doors lining the walls. No two doors were alike, as though they had been made by different people at different times, and most of them bore locks of various types. This had to have been a storage area, she realised. She wondered who besides Malkus Vile might store things down here. She wondered how many of these storage spaces belonged to people who would never come back for their treasures.

      “Look out!” Zoltan suddenly said, breaking Terra out of her thoughts. The Kyrii dove behind Isengrim. With a flick of the mage’s wrist and a swirl of purple magic, a sword with a broad, curved blade appeared in his paw, just in time to parry away a dagger aimed for the Werelupe.

      Isengrim spun around to strike at his assailant, who deftly flipped out of the way and back into the shadows, but not before Terra caught a glimpse of a deep blue cloak and a magenta tail quite similar to Blynn’s. Terra remembered something like that from a list of Battledome opponents in Neopia Central, and knew who this must have been.

      “You won’t get away that easily,” Zoltan growled. His magic-streaks pulsed, and suddenly he flickered and disappeared. The sound of blades clashing rang through the corridor, and then the attacker staggered back out into the lamplight.

      She was a red Zafara wearing a tunic and cape, and her fur hung messily over her eyes as she artfully evaded Hyren’s sword and lunged for Isengrim again. The Werelupe moved to meet her blade with his own, but at the last moment she pivoted, rolled under him, and came up for another strike before he could turn around.

      Terra wouldn’t let that happen. She thrust her sword between her Werelupe and the Zafara Rogue, jamming the Rogue’s dagger.

      The Rogue scowled at Terra as she fumbled her blade, but managed to keep from dropping it. As Terra sliced her sword through the air for another strike, the Rogue skipped back, avoiding Isengrim’s sword as well.

      Suddenly Zoltan appeared behind the Zafara and reached for her with a massive paw roiling with dark magic. The Rogue saw him just in time and leaped away, again avoiding Hyren’s blade, bringing up her dagger to deflect Isengrim’s claymore, and darting around him to try to get a hit in.

      Once more, Terra was there to stop her, but this time the Zafara reached into her belt pouch and threw a small vial at the owner. Terra brought up her sword to block it, and the vial broke against her blade in a splash of sickening green-brown.

      Suddenly the metal began to smoke. Fearing for her own safety, Terra dropped the sword and put a hand over her mouth in shock as the contents of the vial consumed the weapon, corroding it in a matter of moments and leaving only a rusty ruin with a hilt.

      Isengrim dropped the lamp and picked her up to get her out of further danger, and swung his sword one-pawed at the Rogue, who again was just too quick for him. She ducked out of the way of Zoltan, danced past Hyren’s blade, and came around for another strike at Isengrim, knowing his owner could not protect him this time. Terra scrambled mentally to try to figure out how to stop her.

      A blob of pink exploded between the Rogue and the Werelupe, sending tendrils globbing onto the walls and ceiling, and the Rogue ran right into it. For a moment her muzzle pressed against the stretchy substance and she looked like someone whose bubble gum had popped in their face—and Terra realised that was exactly what had happened.

      Blynn nocked another gumball in her faerie slingshot and fired. The Rogue pulled away from the first gum explosion and another blew up on contact with her, creating more strands connecting to the tunnel. She thrashed furiously, trying to get free as she began to cut through the gum with her dagger. Another shot from Blynn sent the blade flying out of the Rogue’s paw, sticking the weapon to a wall with a wad of chicle.

      One last bubble-gum explosion left the Zafara Rogue hopelessly entangled in a sticky pink web. She struggled for a moment longer and then hung limp, narrowing her eyes at Blynn with a look of pure vitriol.

      The disco Zafara brandished her slingshot with a flourish. “Like I said,” she said, “you can never have too many gumballs.”

      “You little weirdo,” Hyren said with a laugh, pulling her into a one-armed hug. “That’ll teach me to complain. But what took you so long?”

      “I had to wait for an opening,” Blynn said. “I guess that’s what I get for being the only ranged combatant in a group of blade-wielders.”

      A look of relief came over Zoltan’s expression. “I was wondering what that slingshot did,” he said. “It’s got some powerful magic running through it.”

      “Yup,” Blynn said with a grin. “Want to see what Lost Desert potsherds do?” She reached into another pouch on her belt.

      “No!” Hyren said, holding up a hand to stop her. “Not in here! They make fireworks,” he explained to Zoltan.

      “Fine, fine,” Blynn said, rolling her eyes.

      Terra gave Isengrim a hug before he set her down. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” his owner said.

      “And I am grateful you are safe as well,” Isengrim said.

      Terra’s eyes fell on the scrap heap that used to be her sword, and she swallowed hard. “Hyren, I’m so sorry,” she said. “That was such a nice sword—you helped me pick it out—“

      Her Grundo shrugged. “That’s what a Caustic Potion will do, unfortunately,” he said. “I’m just glad you’re not hurt. You’re way more important than any sword.” He walked over and gave her hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll get you a new one ASAP.”

      “Thanks,” Terra said with a nod, but she still felt bad. She hated seeing things destroyed. Someone had worked hard to smith that weapon – and she and Hyren had spent a fair amount of Neopoints on it – so it hurt to see it meet its demise. It also didn’t help that now she was weaponless. That fact alone made her feel more vulnerable, and more of a liability to her companions. She would have to buy a new weapon right away.

      Hyren turned to Zoltan. “So you’re a battlemage, huh?” the Grundo asked with a smirk. “You’re better with a blade than most.”

      Battlemages, Terra knew, were magic users who also studied physical combat, usually swordplay. The advantage to this was that one could use their weapon as a casting implement, and imbue it with all sorts of useful spells—the downside was that this took quite a bit of skill and multitasking to successfully pull off, especially in the heat of battle. As a result, most battlemages were jacks of both trades and masters of neither, preferring to try to cover all their bases in a fight rather than excel in one field.

      The Kyrii looked surprised for a moment, and then glanced down at his sword. “Ah—thank you,” he said. “You are… quite the accomplished swordspet as well.”

      “Thanks,” Hyren said. “Nice Shadow Scimitar.”

      Zoltan’s weapon was indeed a scimitar with an onyx hilt and a blade that faded from steel to blackness, etched with elegant scrawling designs. He tilted it to examine it, and the blade did not reflect any lantern light, but dark magic danced across its surface. “It has served me well,” he said.

      Isengrim turned to their attacker, who still glowered at them, flexing her gum-covered paws. “Now then,” the Werelupe said, tilting his head questioningly. “What’s your name?” She said nothing.

      “That’s the Zafara Rogue,” Terra said. “From what I’ve heard, she lurks around the Catacombs robbing people.”

      “And yet this was clearly not an attempt at banditry,” Isengrim said, folding his paws behind his back. “No thief in her right mind would go after several armed targets—or keep trying to attack one of them when they start to fight back. What have I done to earn your attention?” Again, for a response he only received silence.

      Zoltan sighed. “Never mind her, Isengrim,” he said. “She’s a lost cause.”

      Isengrim seemed to flinch for a moment, but he smoothed it over with a smile as he turned to his acquaintance. “I don’t believe anyone is ever a lost cause,” the Werelupe King said. “And I think she can find it in herself to believe that as well.” He looked back to the Rogue and said, “You don’t have to live like this, you know. Why not turn over a new leaf? I worry about you down here, trying to survive by stealing.” The Rogue clenched her jaw and looked away with a scowl.

      “Hey,” Blynn said as she walked up next to Isengrim, looking up at the fellow member of her species. “Know why they say Zafaras are the luckiest Neopets?” The Rogue’s expression turned briefly to confusion before she forced a frown back onto it, determined to ignore Blynn, who didn’t care. “Because we help everything turn out right,” she said. “And you haven’t been doing a very good job of that.”

      Although the Rogue tried to remain tough, her ears drooped and her dark gaze grew distant. Then she frowned again and squared her shoulders.

      Isengrim watched her for a moment. “We’ll come back for you,” he said as he kept moving down the hall and gestured for the others to join him. “Perhaps you need some time alone with your thoughts.”

      “Do you really think you can get through to her somehow?” Terra asked as they followed Zoltan further down the tunnel. “I mean… I believe nobody’s a lost cause, either, but she seemed pretty determined to not listen to you.” Isengrim was right—people had a bad habit of giving up on themselves, and that caused the most trouble.

      “I hope I can,” the Werelupe said. “But in the end, it is her choice.” He gave his owner’s shoulders a squeeze.

      Suddenly Zoltan stopped. “It’s in here,” he said, holding up his amulet as it stared at a pair of double doors. The doors were made of thick, old wood that looked like it had been around for ages, and the handles were made of brass, but there were no locks anywhere. Further up on the doors, around Terra’s eye level, were two elaborate knockers fashioned into the shape of a Lupe’s head and a Jubjub, respectively. Well, they looked like knockers except that there was no knocking part.

      “In here?” Isengrim asked, and Zoltan nodded. “Any magicks on this door?”

      “Yes,” Zoltan said, his magic streaks flaring. “Powerful magic indeed. Its nature is unclear to me, however—“

      “Greetings, strangers,” said a small, oddly metallic voice, and Terra realised the Jubjub’s mouth had moved. She stepped back in shock, as did everyone else.

      “Hoping to find access to what lies on the other side?” the Lupe head asked, moving and blinking just like a living Neopet.

      Zoltan shut his hanging jaw. “Yes, we are,” he said. “How do we enter?”

      “Oh, ‘tis a simple thing,” the Jubjub said.

      “Just go through the correct door,” the Lupe said.

      “But be forewarned,” the Jubjub said, “that choosing the wrong door—“

      “—Will alert our master to a thief,” the Lupe said.

      “That is the last thing we want right now,” Isengrim muttered under his breath. Terra knew that this whole operation could be compromised if Malkus Vile figured out that they were collecting his spell’s artefacts. And Isengrim and his family would be in severe danger if Vile knew anything about their location or their objectives.

          “Okay,” Blynn said. “How do we know the right door?”

      “You need only to ask,” the Jubjub said.

      “You may ask us one question,” the Lupe said, “to decide upon the right door.”

      “And,” said the Jubjub, “one of us will only tell the truth—“

      “—And one of us will only lie,” the Lupe said.

      Hyren frowned. “I’m guessing we don’t get to know which one is which,” he said. “Is one of you lying right now?”

      “Is that your question?” the Jubjub asked.

      Hyren clapped a hand over his mouth. “No!” he said. “Just—give us a second.”

      Terra groaned. “I know this puzzle,” she said. “I read a book once where the heroine came across it.”

      “Well then, we’re okay,” Hyren said. “What question did she ask to solve it?”

      Terra cringed. “She asked the wrong question,” she said, “and went down the wrong path.”

      “Of course,” Hyren said, burying his face in his hand.

      “No problem at all,” Isengrim said. “I’ll just break down these doors. The wood is thick, but I think if I put all of my weight on it—“

      “We would not advise that,” said the Lupe head.

      The Jubjub said, “Attempting access without solving the puzzle—“

      “—Will also alert our master to a thief,” the Lupe finished.

      Isengrim frowned and turned to Zoltan. “Can you de-spell these doors?” the Werelupe asked.

      “Using magic against us,” the Jubub said, “counts as breaking in.”

      “Well, I’m not one for these types of brain teasers,” Isengrim said with a shrug. “Zoltan, you’re an intelligent sort. What do you think?”

      The Kyrii stroked his beard. “Only one question,” he muttered, “and we have to know both who is telling the truth and which door to open…” He sighed and shook his head. “You give me too much credit. My forte is solving problems with magic, not riddling them out.”

      “I’m sure the solution has to be frustratingly simple,” Terra said. “That would explain why I can’t think of it for beans.” Nothing that came into her mind seemed to be correct. She could easily think of ways to tell who was lying, of course, but that would not tell her which door to open. How could they figure out both at once? She felt as though something about the puzzle was eluding her. Was there another angle she was supposed to look at it from? Some loophole she could exploit? Was this about lateral thinking?

      “I got it,” Blynn said, snapping her fingers.

      “Are you sure?” Hyren asked. “Maybe we should talk about this—“

      “Just trust me,” Blynn said. She looked up at the Lupe head. “Okay. Will you tell me that this is the right door?”

      “Yes,” the Lupe said.

      Blynn put her paw on the handle below the Lupe and pushed.

     

To be continued…

 
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Other Episodes


» Shadow Play
» Shadow Play:Part Two
» Shadow Play:Part Three
» Shadow Play:Part Four
» Shadow Play:Part Five
» Shadow Play:Part Six



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