Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen (34 page)

The avalanche of sand was now so close they could see it coming. Like a churning storm of earth, it was terrifying to behold.

“We're not going to make it,” Mina warned, trying to yell above the mountainous roar. “The door is too heavy.”

“Then don’t fight the door, use it,” Athel realized aloud.

“Get inside,” Setsuna bade as she flicked her wrist, a throwing knife appearing in her grasp. As everyone ran back into the vault, she threw the weighted blade into the glass backing of the vault door, shattering a fist sized hole in it. There was a sharp droning sound of a siren, then the humongous vault door slammed itself shut just as the wall of sand reached them.

The rush of air blew out all of the torches in the vault, and everyone was bathed in the most complete darkness imaginable. Pistons fired into the wall, sealing the vault door permanently, and the rumbling sounds of burial gradually subsided, until nothing remained but their staggered breathing, and the realization that they were now buried nearly a mile below ground, beneath millions of tons of earth.

Hanner clapped his hands and a ball of fire appeared in the air, bathing them and the dark vault in an eerie half-light.

“Is everyone okay?” Captain Evere called out, doing a quick head count to make sure everyone had made it inside.

“Of course we're not okay, we're buried alive in a golden coffin!” Margaret spat out, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Just like my ohma,” Ryin recalled.

Alder was having trouble getting to his feet. Athel found him and helped him up. “Are you sure you're doing okay, Aldi?”

“Yes, of course, just a little shaken,” he reassured her between coughs.

“The air is getting heavy in here,” Margaret complained as she shivered. “I can’t be in enclosed spaces like this.”

“How can you be claustrophobic?” Mina asked. “Your quarters on the ship are way smaller than this place.”

“Yeah, just be glad you didn’t have my job,” Athel reminded. “I spent half the day squashed inside a statue.”

“Little tight spaces I can handle,” Margaret admitted, sweat dripping down her chin. “It’s the big tight spaces that freak me out.”

“Oh, well then, that isn’t claustrophobia,” Dr. Griffin analyzed. “That is...well I’m not sure what you would call that. Let’s see...fear of being sealed inside a ginormous vault...” He trailed off as he chewed on the tip of his gray ponytail, the torchlight making his features look slightly more sinister than usual. “...Magnumcryptaphobia perhaps?”

“Less analysis, more remedy,” Setsuna grunted as she drove a silver-tipped stake into a pile of gold coins and steadied it.

Dr. Griffin shrugged. “Still, I think I have something for that.”

“No way,” Margaret refused as she stepped away from the aged doctor. “Then I'll have three of your poisons in my body.”

Setsuna walked a few feet over and drove a second stake into the ground.

Dr. Griffin took out a glowing green vial from his labcoat. “Poisonous?” he huffed. “This isn’t poisonous.” Just to prove his point, he took out the cork and lowered his mask to give the vial a good sniff.

“Whoo,” he yelled, shaking his head. “It is, however, very
very
expired.”

“I hate you so much,” Margaret whimpered as she dropped to her knees. Dr. Griffin placed his wrinkly hands on her shoulders to steady her.

“Look, everybody just calm down,” Athel bade them. “And Dr. Griffin, get away from Margaret, she’s a third your age and it’s creepy.”

“I was only...”

“Back away before I thump your skull!”

Dr. Griffin timidly shuffled away from Margaret.

“Now,” Athel continued. “I know this looks bad, but believe me, this is all part of the plan.”

Ryin raised an eyebrow. “Getting buried beneath a mountain was part of the plan?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Athel admitted. “But...”

“But it just so happens that you were lucky enough to purchase the services of a Gatemaster,” Setsuna boasted as she thrust the final silver-tipped spear into place. “I suggest you all stand back, you don’t want to lose any hair or teeth when this thing opens.”

Ryin leaned in towards Athel. “She’s kidding right?”

“No way to tell.”

Everyone backed up as Setsuna stood within the triangle she had created and began to pray in her native tongue. It was a harsh-sounding language, with deep k’s and a lot of hard t’s. The kind of language that sounded to Athel like it was made up of nothing but curse words.

The stakes reacted to her voice and began resonating with each other. Blue and orange streaks of energy played back and forth between them and around her.

“You guys are fortunate, you're about to see some real magic,” Setsuna gloated as she brought her hands together.

“Hey!” Hanner protested, pointing to the sphere of fire hanging in the air he had created.

“Pffft, a chimpanzee with a piece of flint can make fire,” Setsuna teased. “I’m about to tear a hole through realms.” Setsuna’s large green pigtails floated up around her, and her eyes glowed a bright green. The very air became energized, causing Mina’s fur to stand on end. The vault before them rippled as if they were looking at it through warped glass.

“Can she really make a gate through the whole mountain?” Dr. Griffin wondered aloud as he flipped down a colored lens on his glasses.

“My brothers and sisters are opening the far end as we speak,” Setsuna explained between labored breaths. Her whole frame seemed to be trembling. “If I can just get a pinhole open, they'll force it the rest of the way.”

Setsuna screamed, green light emanating from her mouth and nose, and pulled her hands apart. With a terrible, high-pitched whine the air was rammed as if by an invisible sharp spike, and Setsuna’s magic punched through. A keyhole of light was created in the air, and magical energies rushed through from the far side, tearing it open larger and larger. There was a gust of fresh sea-air, and sunlight flowed into the vault. A wave of green energy shot across the room, knocking everyone but Setsuna off their feet. When they stood up again, they were looking out into open skies as if they were standing on the deck of an airship. The edges of the gate resolved themselves into a circle of enveloping mist.

Setsuna sat down and wiped the sweat from her brow. “You can keep your tinderbox magic, Iberian,” she taunted. “We Senndaisians wield the real thing.”

* * *

There arose a great cheer among the pirate fleet as they saw what they had been anticipating for hours. All of the ships from the Egress Guild had gathered together, the energies from their crews streaming from each ship into a single point in the sky. Harder and harder, the magic pushed until finally it punched through. There was now a ship-sized hole in the air that led directly into the Federal vault.

On the deck of the Tiondir, Captain Elymbor congratulated his crew. “Run out the colors,” he barked, sliding a few stray strands of green hair away from his face. “I want the Egress Guild flag waving proud when we enter the vault.”

The Tiondir dropped canvas and was moving forward towards the gate when they realized there was a problem.

“Sir, one of the seed-lickers from the Glarion Guild means to cut us off,” Fadriendra called down from the crow’s nest.

Captain Elymbor gave the wheel to Mr. Ciwen and grabbed a hold of ashroud, allowing him to lean out over the side and get a better look. Sure enough, the Claw was making a run for the gate, trying to cut them off.

* * *

Onboard the Claw, Anak kicked Mr. Pior aside and turned the wheel himself, steering them directly towards the approaching gate.

A tear opened up in the air next to him and Captain Elymbor stepped through, looking surprisingly aloof. “So, I’m guessing that instead of filling our holds with gold, you'd rather we all just tear ourselves apart fighting over who goes first?”

“You may guess whatever you want, moss-licker,” Anak responded, tightening his grip on the wheel. “But my ship is going through that gate first.”

“The order was determined by lot,” Captain Elymbor said, shaking his head. “Your ship was twenty-eighth, for crying out loud. It’s not like you had that long to wait.”

Anak ground his beak and grabbed Captain Elymbor by the collar. “Do you think any of this matters? Do you? In a few months, all of you will be dead, the whole canvas wiped clean, and no one will even be left behind to remember that there was ever a little man named Elymbor standing here arguing with me about who goes into the vault first.”

Captain Elymbor vanished in his grip and then reappeared behind him. “I can see there is no reasoning with a Maliaoite. Your kind has always been just a savage collection of bird brains.” Captain Elymbor smiled wickedly. “If you wish to go through the gate first, I won’t stop you.”

* * *

On the deck of the Tiondir, Captain Elymbor reappeared next to the binnacle. Already, a dozen other pirate ships looked like they were fixing to follow Anak’s example and force their way to the head of the line. Throughout the fleet, cutlasses were being drawn, rifles were being loaded, and guns were being run out. Elymbor could feel it. Any moment now the first shot would be fired, and then it would be too late. The entire raid was about to fail.

“Are we just going to sit back and do nothing?” Ms. Rilia asked. Captain Elymbor looked at his second-in-command and gave her a wink.

* * *

Back on the Claw, Anak barked out orders as they came up to the gate. Already they could see the piles of gold inside, winking seductively at them with their lustrous beauty.

Just as they reached the gate, the image before them shifted. Now there were storm clouds ahead. Anak spun the wheel, but it was too late. The Claw entered the gate and came out on the other side surrounded by a hurricane. Ignoring the hollering and cursing of his sailors, Anak turned around just in time to see the gate close behind them. For a second, he thought he caught a glimpse of Captain Elymbor smiling at him.

“Find out where we are!” Anak roared, tossing the man nearest him into the mizzenmast.

Near the bow of the ship, a dark figure cursed his luck.

* * *

On the Tiondir, Captain Elymbor gave out the order and his crew shifted the gate so that it led to the vault again. He looked around at the other pirate ships, which were all backing off. “Not even the greedy rats from the Mertrion Guild will try to cut in line after seeing that.”

* * *

Inside the vault, the crew of the Dreadnaught looked on as the first ship from the Egress Guild sailed directly into the vault and slowed to a stop. They knew it was coming, but watching it happen was still awe-inspiring.

Athel had never seen such motivated men and women in her life. Grates were opened, holds revealed, and the loading began with astonishing speed. The crew practically sprinted in and out of the ship, filling its cargo hold like they were possessed. Setsuna hugged and greeted her comrades and they chatted away in their native language while the crew did most of the work.

Athel could tell that they had a different kind of Guild than the others. It was more familial, even warm in its way. She wondered if it was because, unlike the other Guilds, they all came from the same island.

A few smaller gates were created, allowing large piles of gold coins to be simply shoveled into the tears, where they exited through the other end directly inside the cargo waiting holds. It was hard for Athel to think of thieves as being professional at anything, but watching the speed and efficiency with which they filled their ships, she had to admit that, at least in this one thing, they were true professionals.

Her original calculations had figured it would take about thirty minutes to fill each ship. To everyone’s surprise, the first ship was filled in only twelve minutes. Setsuna said her goodbyes, and Captain Elymbor was met by Alder, who had an armful of signed and sealed parchment papers ready to be handed out. Captain Elymbor shook his head as Alder handed him his receipt. “And what do you expect me to do with this?” he asked. “File my tax returns with it? Declare my source of income as stolen gold from the Federal reserves?”

Alder looked a little unsure of how to answer, and so went with what Athel had come to identify as his favorite response when he was flustered. “Forgive me, I am simply following protocol.”

Captain Elymbor laughed as he tucked the parchment into his coat and vanished. When he reappeared on the deck of the Tiondir, a second gate appeared before the airship, and she sailed out of the vault into open skies, blown by a nice cool breeze, courtesy of Margaret.

Athel chuckled and pulled her husband in close to her. “You even stayed up late last night preparing receipts for the pirates. Alder, did I ever tell you how cute you can be sometimes?”

Alder looked at her oddly and thought for a moment. “You could stand to mention it a little more often.”

“Oh, could I?” she teased, tickling his side.

Seconds later, the next ship entered the vault, and the process began all over again.

The next few hours became a blur as ships of greedy pirates flew into the vault, filled their ships, and left even greedier than before. Despite the indefatigable energy that the pirates displayed, the frantic pace kept the Dreadnaught crew constantly busy. Ryin in particular had trouble convincing each ship when they had reached their load limit. Despite the enormous wealth they were walking away with, they seemed obsessed with finding any excuse to take even a little bit more. Some captains were willing to overload their ships past their weight and displacement limits, others tried tossing their food and water supplies and even crew members overboard in order to make extra room.