Season of the Witch part 8

Inside this place, wherever it was, it was blessedly dark.  I was in a long tunnel, about six feet high and made all out of brick, running away for about twenty feet, and then turning to the left-away from the floor plan of the cathedral.  I glanced back at where I’d entered, and saw a faint blue glow lining the brickwork.  So for now, there was a way out.  Feeling some comfort from that, I settled my backpack more comfortably on my shoulders, and then jogged off, keeping a weather eye out for booby traps.  Fortunately, at least to the corner, there were none.  When I got there, however, I pulled out a mirror, and used it to look.


No visible signs of anything.  That didn’t mean much, though, not in this world.  Putting the mirror back in my bag, I had to dig around for a bit, before finding the bag of laever powder.*  I scooped a bit of it into my palm, and then gently blew it into the air.  And just like in a spy movie, long, weblike threads appeared stretched across the corridor.  The image reminded me uncomfortably of spiders, and spider bites.  But, sucking it up, I began to maneuver my way through them.


As I went, I entertained myself by wondering how Koschei got past the trap; did he use a spell to make the threads part for him?  Or was it set up to only react for other people?  Or did he just have a different entrance altogether that only he used, and the whole purpose of this one was to use it to trap anyone who might be breaking in?  So many possibilities…
I kept my wings and tail tucked as close to me as possible, and even tried to pull the backpack close against my shoulders so it wouldn’t brush against anything.


Somehow, by sheer luck, I made it through.  Just in case, I checked myself all over for any webs or spiders that might have gotten on me; as far as I could tell, though, I was safe.  And right ahead of me, just one step ahead, I could see that the ground was absolutely coated in a bright red spell, spilling all the way down the hall and halting only right in front of a thick-looking door.  I suspected that, unless this was an elaborate trap of some kind, this was my intended destination.
Just one more obstacle…
Yeah, right.  There’s probably going to be a lot more than just that.
I’m trying to be optimistic, okay?  Just humor me.
Whatever.
Ignoring my subconscious’s snide commentary, I stretched my arms out, measuring how far apart the walls were.  It looked like maybe I could make it...but was it worth the risk, though?  Not that I had a choice.


I did a small leap straight up, flinging my arms out and flattening my hands against the walls.  Once I had a grip, I dug my feet in too.  I was now about a foot above the ground.
Well, here goes nothing.
Barely giving myself a chance to think, because then I’d come to my senses and ask what the h___ I was doing, I began swinging down the hall.  I would move forward by the arms for a bit, catch myself with my legs, take a moment to breathe, then swing by my legs and catch myself with my arms.  As a result, I was slowly making my way closer to the door.**
I wasn’t in pain as much as many other species would be, since I’m physically stronger than most of them, and even though I’m kind of lazy when it comes to exercise, I’d like to think that I’m decently in shape.  So when I finally got to the door, I was only sweating a little bit-which still worried me, thinking about the possibility of a drop landing on the ground and activating the spell.


I hung there for a few moments, catching my breath, and examined the door.  There was a heavy iron lock on it, so, bracing my legs for extra support, I used my arms to shift around the backpack, and dug out another skeleton key, which I slid into the lock.  It instantly changed shape until it fit, and I turned it.  With a happy click, the door swung open, moving inwards; to my relief, the floor inside was unenchanted.  Re-bracing my arms, I swung back and forth, gaining momentum, gathering my strength...and then let go, allowing myself to go flying through the doorway into the treasure room, as I saw it was.


I managed, by the skin of my fangs, to land lightly on my feet.  I had to sway about a bit, but finally I regained my balance, and started taking a look around, after retrieving my skeleton key and closing the door behind me.  So far, this place reminded me of the museum upstairs, only without the plaques or glass cases: everywhere things were put on display, on pedestals, on the wall, in the air above me.  Most prominently placed was a Greek-looking pillar in the center of the room, on top of which was an enormous golden egg.  The egg’s shell appeared to be decorated in a flame pattern, with hints of red flecked throughout.  Based on what I knew of Koschei’s history, I suspected that it was a firebird egg.  And I wondered how on earth he had managed to get hold of it.


There was a tapestry on one of the walls close to the egg, that depicted a group of creatures on horseback hunting a zmey (Russian three-headed dragon); as I looked at it, the picture slowly changed, showing that the hunters pursued the zmey all the way to the foot of a mountain, where it was temporarily trapped, until it finally turned around and flamed them all.  It was a welcome change from the typical human ending.


Nearby were a gun with an engraving on the barrel that showed it belonged to someone named Chekhov, a golden hourglass that seemed to be frozen halfway through letting the sand fall, a giant frog’s head (stuffed), a long chain with an eye on the end, and numerous other odds and ends demonstrating that, like Baba Yaga, Koschei had a predilection for collecting unusual magical items.  Unfortunately, so far none of these seemed like they would be of any use in helping me achieve my goal of finding the sword and getting out of here.  By now feeling more than a little exasperated with this whole thing, I expanded my search.


And then I found it.  Kladenets was in the farthest, darkest corner of the room, leaned casually against the wall, with only a small, easily dismantled spell covering it.  I looked around the surrounding area for any traps that might be connected, or observation spells, or anything at all that could signify a potential trap if I touched that sword.  With or without the glasses, I found absolutely nothing.  Therefore, I was suspicious.  If this sword was supposed to be so special, and Koschei was leaving it hidden in the corner like this, it was either so powerful that he was trying to keep it hidden in plain sight, like The Purloined Letter...or it really wasn’t powerful at all.  Either way, at least I’d found the dumb thing.


Carefully I rolled up my sleeves to the elbows, and adjusted the glasses further up my nose.  The yellow sparks were up on the guard; I dug one claw in among them, and began to painstakingly pick apart the spell.  Before long, I had pulled it free, and the remaining spell residue fluttered to the ground.  I checked the sword for any extra spells that might have been concealed on it by the first spell; none in sight, hearing, or smell.  Finally, hesitantly, I picked up the sword.


It felt normal.  Nothing seemed to be all that special about it.  Normally, with very powerful magical weapons, you can feel at least some of that energy pulsing about inside, even if you can’t see the magic itself.  Kladenets, however, didn’t feel like much of anything.  While considering all the possible reasons why this might be, I opened my backpack, and slid the sword inside, grateful for its being kind of like Mary Poppins’ carpet bag.  Then I put it back on my shoulders, and crept to the entrance.


I put the key in the lock, turned it, and opened the door.  And saw, much to my horror, that the spell covering the floor was no longer on the floor.  Instead, it was rising up in an enormous red wave, and was just about to crash down on me.
How did this happen?!  What did I do?!  I was certain this wasn’t connected to anything-is it the room?  Or-
And then, in that split second, I remembered that when I had swung my way into the room, there had been a slight noise, so soft that even I hadn’t really acknowledged it: the sound of the brickwork crumbling, and tiny pieces falling...into the security spell.  And it appeared to have been just lying in wait for me to leave the room.
I would like to say that I was able to perform a complicated somersault maneuver just before I could be captured, or that I produced a gizmo of some kind, like the yarn, which would let me cut out a new gateway or in some other way escape at the last possible second.  As it was, however, I barely had time to start saying, “Oh, da-” before it crashed down, covering me up and rendering me insensible.

*Laever juice in powdered form, a bit obviously.
**Note: I would not advise trying this at home, unless you have appropriate safety equipment, super strength and/or someone there to supervise you and make sure you don’t dislocate a limb.  Just a friendly warning, ‘kay?

Season of the Witch part 7

My mirror opened up in the corner of the Red Square, and I collapsed out onto the cobblestones, holding my gut in pain and waiting for it to subside.  Thankfully, I managed not to even dry heave, and after the shaking and agony and feeling like my insides had been mercilessly played tug-of-war with had dissipated somewhat, I found myself being helped to my feet by what appeared surprisingly to be a human tourist of some kind.
“S toboy vse vporyadke?”* she asked, looking at me with concern.
“Da.  Bolshoe spasibo,”** I reassured her, raising a claw and nodding.  She looked me up and down, not convinced, and commented that I looked terrible.  I just said that travelling made me nauseous sometimes.  The tourist laughed, and said that she understood how I felt, before asking if I was sure she couldn’t take me to my hotel or something.  I said that no, I’d be fine in a moment, but thanked her again for her time.  She walked off with a smile over one shoulder and a parting “Dasvidaniya!”***

***

St. Basil’s Cathedral was just across the way.  And since it was a Monday in June, and therefore not the tourist season, it was relatively easy for me to walk towards it, and buy an admission ticket at the western church.  So far, so good.


Once inside the cathedral, I went to the basement (not bothering with a tour guide), admiring the art and architecture as I went.  It really is a beautiful place; despite the direness of my reason for being there, I couldn’t help noticing the fake brick paint job (also known as pod kirpich), the places with the genuine brick walls, the gold-covered artwork, and the walls decorated with fancy flowers.  But I didn’t have time to admire it long-I had a sword to find.


Baba Yaga had instructed me to examine anything with a possible aura on it.  She also knew about my ability to see magic, and had cooked up (almost literally) a spell to make it even better for this situation.  It came in the shape of a pair of fake eyeglasses; when I put them on, they allowed me to distinguish what different magical auras meant, and would light up accordingly.  Red meant a trap, green was just a concealment or enchantment, blue was a little bit of both red and green-type spells, and yellow sparks me showed where the spell could be disabled, if possible.  It made me question whether she really hadn’t seen Mission: Impossible.


Most of the spells I found, around certain objects, and even on some of the cobblestones, were red.  None of the green ones that I’d tried so far was what I was looking for.  If this were any other case, I would probably have given up in frustration, and tried again tomorrow.  But the freedom of someone that mattered a lot to me was at stake; I couldn’t afford to waste even a second trying to find the entrance to wherever Mr. the Deathless kept that sword.


And then, finally, it appeared that I had found something.  In a corner of one of the rooms, under a window, there was a set of brick stairs.  That was already strange enough, unless they opened and closed the window with the benefit of gnomes; however, there was the added peculiarity that the stairs were glowing blue.  Just in case it was a fluke of some kind, I peered over the tops of my glasses at them.  Without the glasses, I could still see that there was a spell.  Put them back on, and the blue color showed up again.  On a wild hunch, I decided to see if this was the opening I needed.  I didn’t know how it was possible, but it was worth a shot.  Reaching into my pack, I pulled out a few of my supplies: a skeleton key (literally made out of bone), a ball of pure white, unblemished yarn, four silver thumbtacks, and a black-and-white PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH sign (in several languages).  Then I set to work.


The trick here, which could play an instrumental part in my getting out of here alive, was getting past the spell without Koschei ever finding out I was there.  If his spells were disturbed, then he would definitely know someone was messing with them, and even with my little bag of tricks, I would probably end up a gone goose.  As it was, I had to be careful how I touched the thing while I worked.


First of all, I hung the PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH sign on a convenient peg on the wall; even though those things mainly seem to tempt people to do just that, they are still useful in their own right.  Besides, this one was enchanted to automatically encourage people to obey it.  Then I pulled out one of the thumbtacks, and gingerly, trying to keep my claw from trembling, I set it down in the upper right hand corner of the stairs.  Where it touched the spell, it hissed and fizzled, causing a few more yellow sparks to appear.  I froze in alarm; I didn’t want it to disintegrate the spell entirely, no no no…
After a tense second, the rest of the spell sort of bubbled up around the needle part of the tack, leaving just the plastic sticking out.  I exhaled slowly, and then completed the process with the other tacks in the other corners.  I then unwound some of the yarn, enough to leave a long tail, and then wound the beginning of it around one of the tacks.  Once I felt it was secure, I pulled it out to the tack opposite, and wound it around that tack, etc.


Once I had finished, I had what appeared to be a square laying on top of the spell and stairs, just big enough for me to go through if I tucked in my wings a little bit.  Now for the last stage.  Using one of my claws to cut the yarn, I stowed the remainder of the ball in my pack, and produced the skeleton key.  Looking around, I decided to insert it in the left side; as I brought the key close, a keyhole appeared in the spell.  I inserted the key, and turned it until I heard a click, before pulling it up.  And lo and behold, the spell moved up with it, having turned into a sort of trapdoor.  Mission partway accomplished.


I glanced over my shoulder, to see if anyone was watching me.  Fortunately, there was nobody visibly paying attention to me.  And if they were, well, too late to do anything now.  It was now or never.  So I reached under the new door, being careful not to touch the upper side, feeling some relief when my claws touched brick, and lowered myself inside feet first.  Unfortunately, I had to let it close over me, and could only hope that either it lasted long enough for me to get out, or if the spell absorbed it, then I could find a new exit.

*Are you all right?
**Yes, I’m fine.

***Now I hear you wondering what is wrong with this picture: why would a human woman not be alarmed at the fact that she was suddenly talking to a gargoyle?  The answer, again: a highly useful spell Calla created that I keep in my pocket for special occasions.  It means that humans see me as just another roguishly handsome human.  Even if I am rather scruffy. Very useful for these kind of situations.  Every non-humanoid monster should get one.