I am, and I'm not, Sam. My skills are power skills. I can blast things. I can bind things with energy. I can illuminate things. I have no clue how to enchant something. Or how to break an enchantment. I've only been at this a few years, and, besides, I think we are dealing with a whole new magical system.
I nodded, thinking hard. What if we went back to Charlie and asked him to edit the book, to write in a new description of the dungeon that isn't quite as impenetrable as everyone thinks?
Allison shook her head. I suspect he would merely create an alternative or parallel world, where another queen and another Rory are able to easily rescue her daughter. And if I know writers-
You don't, Allie.
Well, from what I had gathered, they never like to make it easy on their characters. They like to throw a lot of shit at them, and watch their characters wade through it. It's fun for them as writers, and fun for readers.
Allison might have hit upon some truth. I thought: So, in this draft of the story, the dungeon is impenetrable and the queen is screwed unless we can either resurrect the Good Magician Canterbury, or find another way into the dungeon.
"You two are awfully quiet," said the queen. I wasn't very surprised to see Rory with his arm around her. I knew from the draft we had read that they had not yet been intimate, but they had been oh... so... close.
"They speak mindspeak, Your Highness," said Rory. "Have you not seen the way they look at each other? The little shadow even gestures sometimes, although no words are spoken."
I blinked, until I remembered we were the little shadows.
I'm not sure it's a compliment, Sam, thought Allie.
I shrugged, and the queen now spoke. "Yes, I see it now!"
"And what have you concluded, dark angels?" asked Rory, who, with his massive shoulders pressed up against the ceiling, looked a bit like Atlas carrying the weight of the world.
I spoke for the two of us. "We have concluded that Wench Allison is unable to break through to your daughter."
"Then we are without hope-"
"But," I said, cutting off a queen for the first time in my life, "I still have a few tricks up my sleeve."
Chapter Thirty-two
The end of the tunnel was little more than a pile of rocks.
That each and every rock had been created in the mind of my client was still something I was wrapping my own mind around. In a sense, I was inside Charlie's mind, interacting with his imagination. Then again, wasn't that the case with all writers? Weren't readers, in essence, taking a peek inside a writer's mind? And wasn't the writer taking the reader by the hand and leading them on a journey of the imagination? It was a special kind of relationship, the writer and reader, and it was its own form of telepathy.
Something banged from somewhere above us. Indeed, dust sifted down from the ceiling.
Rory withdrew his blade. "The dungeon dragon cometh," he said.
Hurry, Sam, thought Allison. And if you haven't noticed, we're kind of trapped. And did he just say cometh?
He did, and we were. Trapped that is.
I closed my eyes and cast out my thoughts in a wide net. I had attributed such skills to Elizabeth in the past, but now I suspected this skill was of my own soul's doing: an ability to see in all directions, through any substance, usually up to about twenty feet. Now, I scanned through the wall and saw, well, more rock. I scanned the far wall, then the near wall. Then moved up and down the tunnel, scanning, but seeing nothing but more rock. No pockets of anything, no hidden chamber.
I went back to the end of the tunnel and climbed up onto the pile of rocks, ducking just under the ceiling. The tunnel shook some more, and now actual pebbles broke loose from the ceiling. Yeah, something was coming all right. And that something was huge and nasty.
Here, I closed my eyes just as I heard the first roar. I gasped, lost my concentration, tried again, this time pressing my head against the rock. There. A faint glow. It looked, in fact, like a star in a night sky. Just the smallest hint of light among the bedrock.
"Allison," I said, scrambling down from the pile of boulders. "I need you to blast these rocks."
"Blast?" She tore her gaze away from the tunnel entrance. Indeed, I could see movement in the far distance. Big movement. Rory stood his ground, with his sword out before him, the queen behind him.
"Yes. Obliterate the shit out of them. And while you're at it, blast some of the wall, too, I need more room."
"Okay, stand back. Everyone stand back."
Except the other two weren't really listening. Indeed, the fearless knight had moved forward further down the hall, now withdrawing his rapier. The two swords wouldn't be much against the dungeon dragon, if my memory of the beast within the pages was anything like the real deal.