The Lesser One Arc 2 Chapter 6: Deal

Deal

Sebastian contacts me again through the magic phone I keep implanted in my ear.

Sebastian: We’ve managed to locate the Esmex building in the aether sea. Stay alive until we manage to get there.

Me: I think whoever created this instant dungeon wants to play a game. I’m thinking of confronting him.

Sebastian: Don’t! He’s too powerful. If he has the power to turn all of the Esmex building into an instant dungeon, he’s definitely too powerful for you to defeat, even with our help.

I turn to Sangror. “What do you think?” I say.

Sangror crosses her arms. “My only job is to protect you. I will support whichever decision you make.”

I turn to Rezolan. He shakes his head with a slow motion.

I push through the doorway back into the hall. Like before, it stretches to a foggy end in either direction.

“Which door?” I say, as I walk towards the fog.

Rezolan flips open a small device. “Sebastian has mapped the space,” he says. “I think we can tell you how to get closer to the center, where the control room is.”

Sebastian contacts me again.

Sebastian: You have two options. One: complete the puzzle and go along with this unknown party’s plans. Or two: find the unknown party and negotiate with them.

Me: I can’t fight them?

Sebastian: It would be unadvisable.

I press my hand against a door. “Let’s do both as far as possible,” I say. I push the door open.

The three of us step inside. The door closes. The whole room is painted white, furnished with blocky furniture that almost blends in with the wallpaper.

The same iron bars trap us inside with a clank. Four spotlights click on and project beams onto the white furniture and decorations. They cast long, varied shadows.

“I think we have to arrange the furniture to create a specific shadow pattern,” I say, as I turn a chair around.

A timer screen lowers. Six minutes. Rezolan picks up a chair and places it in the center of the room. He appears to be deep in thought. He shifts it a bit and then sits in it, resting his chin on his fist. In this moment, he appears to be the personification of the “thinker” statue.

He stands up. “Those three shapes,” he says, pointing to a pure white table with white vases on it. “We need to fit shadows over them.”

He’s smarter than he looks. I take one of the miscellaneous objects in the room and try to manipulate it to match the shadow to the template. I am unable to figure it out.

Rezolan taps me on the shoulder. “Sir,” he says. He pushes me aside with a gentle motion and tweaks the object to fit the form exactly.

“Whoa,” I say. “You’re good at this.”

Rezolan nods at me, and then turns to the second template. He takes two objects and combines their shadows with the skill of an artist.

We fix the third shadow with three minutes to spare. The iron bars rescind and, before we leave, I grab the paper clue.

All the doors in the hall disappear at once.

A low fog creeps from between the floor and walls and rises a couple millimeters at a time.

I get the message. We have all the clues we need, and now it is time for us to figure out what they mean.

First, I turn to Sangror. “Is everyone else safe?” I ask.

Sangror nods. “We have evacuated all personnel to a safe location.”

I lean against the wall, holding the clues in my hand. I try to match them to each other. After a minute, I turn to Rezolan. “Here,” I say. “I think you’re better at this than I am.”

“Thank you,” says Rezolan, accepting the clues. He turns them in his fingers.

The fog is now around my ankles. I also catch sight of a blur of darkness at the edges of my vision. Rezolan continues to turn the papers in his hands. He then fits them together.

“I know the path,” he says. He starts walking.

Sangror and I follow him. The fog at our feet is now to my knees. The hallway fades away into the distance.

We come to an intersection. Without any hesitation, Rezolan chooses to make a right turn.

We travel through several more intersections, and each time Rezolan knows exactly where to go.

I feel dread creeping up my spine. I turn around quickly. Nothing. Nothing but a wisp of fear floating on the fog. The wraith has decided not to attack us yet.

We come to a gigantic wooden door, looking as if it were spliced into the building from a different place.

Rezolan pushes the door open. We walk into a small office, lit by overhead florescent lights. A man with white hair is sitting in a chair, watching a panel of surveillance screens. On one of them, I see my minions and the surviving conjurers.

The man turns around. He appears surprisingly young, despite his white hair. Grinning, he taps his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “I see you have solved my puzzle,” he says.

“Are you one of the Silverbones?” I say, getting to the point.

“Who cares?” says the figure. He bows, still sitting in his chair. “The name’s Biren. Nice to finally meet you, Markus.”

I look around the room, trying to find clues to his intentions. The room, however, divulges nothing.

“Cat got your tongue?” says Biren. His smile becomes lopsided. “I would prefer not to get physical here. You can be assured that I will not harm your body in any way.” He chuckles. “Though one of my colleagues would certainly contest that.”

“Ronald, right?” I say.

Biren raises an eyebrow, but does not say anything. He turns back around in his chair, showing his backside to us. “Since you’re smarter than I gave you credit for,” he says, “I’ll give you a reward.”

“Why would I want a reward from you?” I say.

Biren shrugs. “Let me make my offer first, before you decline.”

I cross my arms. “I don’t trust you.”

“And you have no reason to,” says Biren. “I am a member of the organization that threatened to kill your parents, after all.” He turns around in his chair again, arms crossed. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll give your parents and friends my protection, and you do me a favor.”

I am confused. Why would one of the Dark Silverbones want to protect my family?

“I see that you are confused,” says Biren. His lopsided grin returns. “I need a special compound made, that I cannot get anywhere else. If you produce it for me, I will make sure that my colleagues do not harm your family.”

Back to my conjuring ability, again. But, if this could save my family, I’m willing to do it.

“What do you need me to make?” I ask.

“Two grams of antimatter,” says Biren.

I freeze. “Antimatter?” I say. I feel a sudden chill. “Why would you want that?”

“A secret,” says Biren.

“You do remember Detroit, right?” I say.

“Of course,” says Biren. “Right beautiful piece of work, that was.”

I shiver. “You’re mad,” I say. “If I produce even the smallest amount of antimatter, the entire city will blow up.”

“That’s the value of your family to you, isn’t it?” says Biren. “If you don’t agree, well, toodaloo to your parents, am I right?” Biren makes a gun symbol with his fingers. “Pow.” He tilts his head. “Or you could just officially join us. That would solve all of our problems, wouldn’t it?” He grins. “If you agree to work with me, I’ll give you an indefinite deadline, during which I’ll protect your parents from even the rowdiest of my colleagues.” He shrugs. “I know exactly how hard it will be to produce a workable solid state of antimatter.” He pauses. “Or it could be a liquid. Or maybe even a gas. Plasma, maybe?” He shrugs. “It’s up to you to figure that out.”

I close my eyes and massage my temples. “How long do I have to decide?” I say.

“Until the end of the day,” says Biren. He pauses. “Oh, and as an act of good will, I’ll remove the instant dungeon and return the Esmex building to its proper place.”

I feel reality tearing for a moment, and then a slight bump.

Biren’s face becomes sympathetic. “I am sorry about your friend, what was his name?” He thinks for a minute. “Orion! Right!” he says. “I am so sorry that he had to die. But not even I am powerful enough to reverse death.”

Sebastian contacts me through my mental link.

Sebastian: What did you do? The whole building just reappeared.

I watch on one of the monitors behind Biren as police and adventurers burst through the front door of the building. They flow in and secure the area. The conjurers who were rescued by my underlings are handed over to the authorities.

“I’ll be waiting for you tonight at the glass palace above the building,” says Biren. He snaps his fingers and disappears.

I sit down against the wall. Biren’s request is obviously something that I cannot do under any sort of good conscience. I would risk blowing up not only myself, but the majority of people and infrastructure around me for miles. It would be a nuclear catastrophe and would render an entire city uninhabitable for centuries.

As I contemplate, firemen burst into the room carrying axes. When they see me, Rezolan, and Sangror, they stop.

“You’re Markus Red, aren’t you?” says the man at the front.

“I am,” I say.

The front man holds up a phone. “I’ve secured Markus. We’re still looking for Orion Bloke.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “Orion didn’t make it.”

Sangror kneels and opens up her personal dimension, pulling out Orion’s corpse.

The front fireman looks pale. “What happened to him?” he says.

“He was killed by a wraith,” I say.

Two firemen behind the front man walk over and kneel beside Orion’s corpse.

“This does look like the work of a monster,” says one of them. He holds a device over the corpse. “I’m picking up significant Goolian particles.”

The front man nods. “Pick him up.” He turns to me. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“I am,” I say.

“Do you have any clue as to what happened?” asks the front man.

“It was a terrorist attack,” I say. “I don’t know what they were after.”

“We’ve had a lot of terrorist attacks in London during the last few days,” says the front man. He seems to want to ask me more, but instead shakes his head. He follows his compatriots out the door, leaving the three of us alone.

I turn to Rezolan. “Thanks,” I say. “Without you, we might not have made it.”

“What are you going to say to Biren?” says Sangror.

“I don’t know yet,” I say. “I don’t have a clue about the feasibility of creating antimatter.”

Sangror shakes her head. “I would recommend not playing with things like this,” she says.

I sigh, sitting down on the floor. “It’s either that or the death of my parents and friends.”

Well, whichever way it went, it was sure to be difficult.