Page 30 of Wizards & Weavers
Elyssandra placed a hand against her forehead, scanning the cavern. “I don’t see why not. It’s not like the pool is surrounded by the bodies of dead adventurers, right? Sorry, sorry, that’s a bad joke. But let me see.”
Braiden thought she was about to extract another hairpin, using some form of enchantment to determine the spring water’s toxicity. All she did was bend over the edge of the pool, staring very hard at its bubbling surface.
“Yes,” she said. “Very good. It’s not boiling, just bubbling. This is fine.”
Braiden cocked an eyebrow. “Is it, though? You don’t sound entirely confident.”
He almost jumped out of his skin when Augustin cupped a handful of water and brought it to his lips.
“No,” Braiden said, thrusting his arm out. “Don’t drink that!”
Too late. Water dribbled down the side of Augustin’s mouth, disappearing into his beard as he sipped from his cupped hands. Braiden watched in quiet anticipation as the lump in the wizard’s throat bobbed. Augustin licked his lips, smacked his mouth, then shrugged.
“A bit tart for my taste. All the minerals, perhaps? Seems perfectly safe to drink, though. If we had spare bottles, we could collect some to mix with Elyssandra’s berry juice.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Fizzy berry juice? Sounds like something that’s gone off.”
Augustin chuckled. “Not much affection for fermented foods in the elf lands, then? You know, I once left a jar of vegetables in an ice box. I must have been planning to use it for a spell. Anyway, I forgot about it for several weeks — adventurer’s business, you know the rest — and when I came back, wouldn’t you know it? It had gone all fizzy and strange. Had a sour smell to it.”
Elyssandra wrinkled her nose. “Please don’t tell me you ate it.”
The wizard wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and winked as he rose to his feet. “We should keep going.”
Braiden and Elyssandra exchanged looks of horror. For someone so clever and supposedly so heroic, this Wizard of Weathervale took one risk too many. A bright blue tent that stuck out like a sore thumb, drinking strange dungeon water, eating dubious vegetables? The man had a death wish. Maybe he was a hero precisely because of his willingness to take so many risks.
They pressed on, navigating the cavern via the trodden path. Elyssandra hung back, yelping softly in delight when she recognized another plant, taking a moment to fill her apparently bottomless pouches with a few samples. Braiden took the opportunity to sidle up to Augustin.
“It’s beautiful down here, isn’t it?” Braiden asked. “Look at how all these mushrooms glow. How does that even happen? It would be a shame if no one could access this level to study them.”
Augustin wagged his finger. “Very clever, Braiden. I can see what you’re doing here. The question of whether to seal the dungeon’s entrance — well, that remains to be seen.”
“Depending on?” Braiden asked, stepping over fallen branches and piles of leaves, eager to pursue the matter.
“Depending on what we find going deeper. Weathervale should consider itself lucky. This dungeon only arose out of elemental convergence, and from two of the more benign elements, at that. I’ve told you before. There could have been many more unpleasant possibilities.”
Braiden sighed, knowing he was in for another wizardly lecture.
“What if a portal from the infernal planes had simply manifested deep beneath the surface, issuing a torrent of demons? What if an ancient undead sorcerer awakened from a slumber of centuries, commanding armies of the risen dead to claw up from the earth? Again: it all depends on what we find.”
“And again,” Braiden grumbled, “I’m telling you, we’re just as likely to find a colony of soft, fluffy bunny rabbits.”
“Preposterous,” Augustin said, laughing. Then he stumbled and grimaced, clutching his thigh.
“Don’t you think it’s time we stopped to rest? We’ve been walking for hours. Your wound must be killing you.”
Augustin gave a dismissive wave of his hand, nose in the air. “Please. I’ve suffered far more grievous injuries than this. I’ll tell you when I’m ready to — ”
Something whipped through the undergrowth. Braiden’s heart lurched when he saw it — a colossal snake darting in and out of the grass.
But it wasn’t a snake. It was a length of vine, meant to serve as a rope. He followed it to a nearby tree, his eyes going huge when he saw where the other end was attached: a cluster of wicked, sharp protrusions, a bundle of thorns and spikes.
And it was swinging right for Augustin’s head.
No time for any of Granny Bethilda’s card tricks. Braiden threw himself at Augustin, knocking them both into the grass. Augustin grunted with a muffled, “Oof.” Elyssandra ran up tothem, stopping short with a yelp as the gigantic ball of brambles swung menacingly over their heads.
“All right,” Augustin mumbled in defeat. “Maybe it’s time for a little break.”
Chapter
