“Please inform your female that I am happy to take it from here, because if something goes wrong, my reflexes are far superior to hers. I do not intend offense, but humans are rather sluggish when compared to Squalos.”
“Trax says he’ll do the rest. He’s fast enough to dodge a trap.”
“But air is after water, and?—”
“Azarin…please.You’ve shared enough risk already.”
She must have heard the fear in my voice, because she relented—which was rare—and stepped back onto solid ground. “Alright, Trax, what do you see?”
He bombarded our brains with all the choices. The white tile with seven strings wrapping around each other had to be next. And when Trax moved to that one without incident, we knew we were on the right track. Then there was a brown tile with the sun on it, and Trax stepped to it without getting crushed or smashed.
Azarin went through the next set of images. “Green tile with a lighthouse. That’s got to be the beacon mentioned.”
Worrying about my friends in danger was a lot worse than being in danger myself. “Step careful, Trax. Green tile. Lighthouse.”
Trax stepped onto that one, muscles tensed, ready to leap for safety. Squalo’s had no expression to read, but he seemed to be having a fine time. “You were correct, Carnavon. Puzzles can be fun.”
Black tile, hands in prayer. Trax made it safely. Then there was a gold tile with the crown and throne for the assembly of gods. Appropriate that, combining the religious with the element representing the eternal. Then we got into a debate over the next one, as the eighth time was in theory back to Red, and there were a couple of those to choose from which both made sense in context.
“If the password lumps gods and saints together, then the monster-looking thing is the enemies,” I argued.
“But why separate out the two in the password?” Rade pointed out. “The circle on the other red tile is surely a halo. In the paintings, saints always have halos.”
“Or it could just be a circle.”
“This is very exciting,”Trax sent.
“If we choose wrong, you could die.”
“Correct. That is why it is exciting. I have decided that I like puzzles. But please, do not chose incorrectly because dying would be most unfortunate. I have a lot of things to do.”
“We’re trying our best… There’s nothing on the tile he’s standing on now for saints, just the gods. And if he goes to the circle one, from it, there’s a logical path for the next few to get him to the end.” Rade and Azarin were probably right, but the uncertainty gnawed at me. Fire was the element Trax was most vulnerable to, and if he got hit by the same intensity of spell I had, he’d surely die. “You guys are probably right… Ready, Trax?”
“Yes. If I am burned to death, I want you to know that I have enjoyed my time among the land creatures and you have been the best friend I have ever had who is a mammal.”
“Thanks, Trax. And you’re the best fish man thing I’ve ever known. I really mean that. Now go to the red tile with a circle.”
Trax stepped onto it, and nothing happened. I breathed a sigh of relief. It turned out even Krachma had been holding his breath.
Someone called down from the top of the stairs. I could barely hear them, but it sounded like Bognar. He was probably trying to tell us that Morton and Dathka had finally arrived. Now that it seemed we were past the truly dangerous bits, Morton’s timing was perfect.
There was only one blue tile that could possibly represent enemies. The Council had their own well-known symbol, which hadn’t changed over the last five hundred years, and then, of the four tiles which touched the secret door, only one was the right color, and had tears beneath an eye, symbolizing despair. Which seemed an appropriate last step, since Korthican had hidden his shining beacon during an invasion when all seemed lost.
We all cheered when Trax reached the door without dying.
“Splendid. We should do puzzles more often.”
The door swung gently inward, and an extremely bright light spilled out. Trax slipped inside.
“There are a few things in here. What would you like for me to retrieve first?”
“Do you see the lamp?”
I heard a commotion behind us. Someone was running down the stairs, yelling, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying.
Trax sent me a mind picture of a rusting metal container, which contained a light charm so bright that even what slipped between the gaps in the seams was blinding. “Is this it?”
The noise was getting louder. It was Rufus, and he was really upset about something.
