Part IV

I laughed. “Would I want to see what is inside?” Then I stopped. After thinking about it, I did want to see what’s inside.

Curiosity taking over logic, I walked forward and into the gloomy building.

***

Sitting in an uncomfortable stool I read parts of a journal that was lying open on the office desk.

Inside the building it was very dark and moldy. The Hammerites did a fantastic job of completely destroying just about everything. Glass cabinets shattered, tables now a pile of splintered wood. They even trashed the kitchen. Oddly enough, they barely touched the office, where I sat now.

The office is a rather small room with the walls, ceiling, and floor made of old dark wood with the lighter colored wood that patched holes. There were three bookcases to the right of a small wooden desk with a very short stool for a chair. A single oil lamp was the only lighting and nothing decorated the wall, except the ash pattern to the direct left of the desk.

The ash was streaked out in many directions that surrounded a shape of a person. The silhouette of the person had their arms up as if to block something. The second silhouette was directly below the first one and was in the shape of someone slumped against the wall. I didn’t like looking at it because it brought memories of the man wrapped in the brown cloth.

The journal I found on the desk was made of leather sewed to thick paper and it had black ink drawing of a glyph on the cover. Turns out that a fellow named Clothilde, who was an alchemist, owned this journal.

Day 123,

I have done it! My rats cannot be killed with normal weapons like daggers, poison, or starvation. Sadly the only things capable of killing my rats are holy articles like a blessed hammer or holy water.

Curse the Hammers and their ways. Why, for that matter I don’t even like the Mechanists. The only reason I’m helping Karras is because my hatred for the Hammerites is much deeper than it is for the Mechs.

It shall be a grueling process to get that book. But with Karras’ reward, it will be worth taking some risks. I only wish he had a map to offer. The mazes below the cathedral will prove difficult, yet with my gift over the undead, it might not be life threatening.

I skipped through some more pages.

Day 159,

I am now prepared to go into the Hammerite Cathedral tonight. I have no worries about being seen because I will be using my own invisibility potion. I pat myself on the back for this nifty item that will insure that I will stay invisible for 2 hours upon drinking it.

The Mechanists gave me a generous amount of gold this morning too, so I’ve bought some more supplies and some nice soft leather boots that will quiet my footsteps considerably.One a heavier note, 3 of my rats died in my latest experiments. I gave them dark charms to counter the holy water and hammers, yet they die anyway. Maybe I’ll borrow the book a while before I hand it over to Karras’ greedy, little hands.

In the next entry Clothilde speaks of how for some reason he couldn’t take the Builder’s Guide from the cathedral, and ended ripping certain pages out and leaving the book itself behind.

I flipped to the last entry in the book. The writing here was now unreadable except for a few words like, “Hammerite scum” and “latch”.

Reading enough from the journal I put it on the desk and looked about the dark room.

Latch, latch, latch. What could he mean by latch?

“I don’t know. A secret room?”

Sounds good to me. Let’s check it out.

I started at the bookcases and randomly pulled books off the shelves, trying to find a switch.

Ca-chunk

One of the books I tried to pull held fast. Clearing off all the other books on that row I took a closer look at what was holding. It was held to the case by two very thin strips of metal that fit into a different metal loop, and was locked on the other side of the book, preventing it from moving more than an inch.

Figuring that Clothilde might keep the key in his desk I searched that too. All I found was writing quills, paper, and ink.

Nothing.

Not wanting to waste my time I walked back to the bookcase and wrapped my fingers around the back of the book, above the metal strips. I gave it a hard yank. The strips gave a bit and I tugged even harder, felling the corner of a strip dig into my finger. One foot now braced against the shelf and using my full weight I pulled for the third time. The two metal strips ripped out of the lock and the book tilted forward.

Stepping back I nursed my bleeding fingers and watched as the case rotated 90 degrees, revealing another room beyond.

The room was a small laboratory lit by electric lights that would occasionally flicker. The walls in here however were made of metal, and the floor was white tile. I stepped inside. There were about two dozen animal cages placed evenly around the room on either countertops or the floor. On shelves and a desk I could see papers, prayer books, and other items. In a glass cabinet on the left wall was filled with little bottles with a colored liquid, that moved around almost lifelike. Next to the animal cages there were water vials and mini three-inch gold hammers. Inside the cages themselves were rats, most appeared dead.

Walking to the nearest cage I peered inside. In the far corner I could see a dead rat curled up in a ball. On the exposed side of its body, there was a thumb sized burn mark. The wound had obviously been there for awhile. It was partially scared over, green and crusty.

I side-stepped to the next cage, which had a live rat in it. The rat didn’t do much. Just sat there looking at me with its creepy eyes. On the front of the cage there was a little note posted.

CAGE #-16

SUBJECT #-53

HAS SUCCESFULY RESISTED THE HAMMER’S TOUCH. NEXT TEST WILL INCLUDE EXPOSURE TO HOLY WATER.

After I finished reading the tag I looked back at the rat. The brown rodent wasn’t looking at me anymore; it seemed to have fallen asleep. I picked up one of the water bottles and took off its cap. I assumed that it was holy water. I had never seen holy water up close before. Only behind the shop’s counter. I had never had a job where it would be needed, so I’ve never bought it. That’s why I was confused about some of the dreams I've had. In them I use holy water, but I honestly didn’t know how.

I brought the container up to my nose. It didn’t smell weird, or even smell at all. With the holy water in a blue bottle I couldn’t tell if it had a different color or was clear. I swished the water around and some of it flew out. A couple drops landed on my arm, darkening the fabric.

Damn.

This was a nice shirt, and I didn’t want to have to buy another one if the holy water stained. I started to brush off the water when I heard the rat shriek.

The noise took me by surprise and I jumped. The rat’s fur started to burn and I could see smoke rise up from one of its legs.

Is it on fire? It must be on fire. Put it out! Put it out!

In my ignorance I poured the rest of the water over the rat, trying to put out the fire on its leg. That didn’t do much good. The rat continued to shriek as its brown fur began to fall off in clumps. The skin underneath was sizzling and smoke continued to rise up.

Oops.

I remembered then what Clothilde had said in his journal about the effect of holy water on rats. The rat gurgled, and exploded. Bits of fur and flesh flew every which way. Some pieces like the head and feet stayed in the cage, while the guts and flesh hit the wall or landed on the counter. Others still, like the tail were completely missing.

Wiping a bit of rat off my face, I decided that I should stop messing with them and the holy water. I figured it would be safe if I were to just check out what was on the desk.

A different wooden desk was centered in the laboratory like room, with loads of paper and books piled on top. There was one item that caught my attention. It was sticking out from underneath the pile of papers and it had scrawls and pictures on it. I pulled it out and tried to read it.

Per sanctus liber pro antiquitas pridem,

Repond cum id a insumd donatus,

Occultus insum mors defluo,

Excito posco dues,

Per condo ductor.

I stopped and frowned. I had no idea what it was saying. Shuffling through the other pages it continued with the weird language. I put the papers in my pocket, feeling the need to keep it for some reason.

I rummaged a bit more through the papers and came across a long scroll tied with some ribbon. I unravel it and glanced over the surface. It appeared to be a large map of an underground system under the Hammerite cathedral. Some of the halls drawn weren’t finished, and there seemed to be a pretty direct route to something circled and labeled “The Builder’s Guide." From what I saw the map was also incomplete in that it was only of the underground parts of the temple. If I were to find this “Builder’s Guide” I would need to know where the map starts.

Then a light went off in my head. Garrett had traveled a bit in the underground mazes of the Hammerite Cathedral. I could just buy one of his maps, get this guide thing, and sell it to my fence, Rakool. I stood there, map in hand pondering.

A few minutes later I made my mind up. I would visit Rakool in the morning and discuss my idea.

I tucked the map under my arm and walked out of the laboratory. Pushing the bookcase closed I left the building.

It was dark outside. I walked down the streets and heard the clanking of machines and listened to the odd noise the street lamps made. Someone else's footsteps drowned out my own. The sound was coming from an intersection ahead and I stopped. Once again the hooded figure of Garrett appeared. He was about fifty feet away and didn’t seem to notice me. I walked quickly closing the gap between us. From his posture it looked like he was holding his wrist in pain. I looked down the street he came from. That street led to cemetery. I shrugged and turned my attention back to Garrett.

***

I had folded and tucked the map in my shirt and continued to jog after Garrett. He was walking very fast; not even bothering to step out from under street lamps or dodge out of the way when we passed a guard. Garrett turned a corner and I lost him.

The street he turned down was a dead end consisting of a few apartments and shops.

“Who sent you?” As the person spoke I felt breath on the back of my neck as something sharp rest up against my throat. I was trapped.

“No one. I came on my own.”

Garrett snorted. He withdrew his dagger and I turned around, facing him.

“What do you want?”

Garrett’s face was rather pale and I saw a drop of blood fall from his glove.

“I need to buy a map from you. A map of the lower levels of the Hammerite Cathedral you broke into last year.” He didn’t say anything. I looked back at his bleeding hand. That was a mistake. As I looked down Garrett set off a flashbomb and I was blinded. I swore loudly and rubbed my eyes. A moment later something hard hit me on the back of my head and I ceased to move. The bright light that blinded me turned to black as my knees hit the stone street...

***

I flinched as raindrops hit my face. Slowly I opened my eyes to see the cloudy gray sky above. I lay there a moment, recalling the events before. I groaned and rolled to the side, or at least I tried to. I had been dumped in a ditch. Hauling myself up a wave of nausea hit me and my vision blurred. The back of my head began to throb as I fought off the urge to vomit. Slowly I crawled out of the ditch on my hands and knees. The sickness passed and my vision cleared. Standing to my feet I felt the pulsing lump on the back of my head.

I searched around my shirt with my hands. The map and papers I had taken from Clothilde’s house were still there, but the gold I had stolen from the convention was gone.

I was about to swear again when someone spoke.

“Hey, Dirk. You don’t look too good.”

I smiled, “Just the person I wanted to see.”

Rakool walked up. He was my fence, as well as my old friend from childhood. As a matter of fact, he was the one that convinced me to become a thief in the first place. Rakool was the same age as me and had similar build and height. He and had blond, short hair and extremely dark brown eyes. He also had a goatee that he copied from the Hammerites. Rakool would say he thought it looked nice and subconsciously stroke it between his thumb and index finger. Today he was wearing a dark green shirt with black pants and leather boots that went up mid calf.

“Hey man, let me buy you a drink while we’re here.”

Rain hit the cobblestone road as I looked around my surroundings. I was standing right in front of the Grieving Burrick Inn.

“Sure. I need to talk to ya about something anyway.”

Sloshing through puddles I walked with Rakool the short distance to the tavern door.

***