SAND TRAP

VIII

Mainu was deposited onto a sandstone floor, landing hard on his side. His staff quickly followed. He moaned quietly and spat out some of the sand that had made its way into his mouth. Everywhere else, the fine quicksand clung to him like glue. He knew this feeling. He almost expected a bad-tempered whirlwind to come barreling towards him, just like before. But it was quiet, and still.

He stood and gingerly brushed himself off. "Ipris?" he called into the dark, rubbing his side, and his voice quickly echoed back to him. Behind him, a torch's flame beat against the smooth wall. The space was relatively small and circular, and above him, the ceiling seemed solid, but when he reached his hand up, it passed through. He hissed in discomfort and wiped the sand off on his cloak. The quicksand was still there, suspended. To his right, spiral stairs carved into the rock descended further underground.

Mainu took a step forward and instantly regretted it. Every movement reminded his skin exactly how irritated it was, and it cried out for him to stop. He took a deep breath. This was, more than likely, Torval's lair. Ipris could still be in danger. He had to keep going. Summoning more ounces of perseverance than he knew he had, he picked up his staff and started to walk down the stairs.

Followed by a faint trail of falling sand, he made his way to a larger room lit up with more torches. A counter ran along the wall, populated by several colonies of open books, spell ingredients in bottles and dishes, and mostly crumpled note pages. Intrigued, Mainu laid one of the notes flat and brushed away the sand that fell from his fingers.

On the top half of the piece of paper, there were outlines of two people. Their souls, which were the same shape as Hesykhia, were drawn inside them, and spell words were written in tiny print around each of the six spirit shards, along with arrows connecting the two people. Mainu squinted, trying to read the loopy cursive handwriting. There were several words pertaining to unbinding spirit material and stifling magic, as well as a few straightforward movement spells that activated after a certain amount of time. Below the diagram were notes about a possible 'connection location,' such as the hand or shoulder, and at the very bottom, the words 'has to be quick or souls will phase' were underlined. He stared.

"We were wondering when you'd arrive."

Mainu was tired of being startled from behind. He turned around and glared at Torval, raising his free hand. Magic gathered at his fingertips. "First Ipris, and now this," he growled.

Torval's face fell. "Why the hostility, my friend? The princess is just fine."

"Why?" Mainu scoffed, gesturing to the piece of paper. "That's what I should be asking you! What is this madness? And where are you keeping Ipris?"

"Please, I can explain," Torval said, holding up his hands.

Mainu sprang into action. Before Torval had the opportunity to summon any magic, he cried, "Tulistamat!" and preemptively shielded himself.

Torval dodged to the side as a beam of magic shot by his ear and left a dark mark on the wall. Magic swirled around his hands, but he didn't reciprocate. "Mainu, listen to me. You're making a mistake!"

Just then, Ipris peeked in, sandy but unharmed. "What's going on?" she asked, giving Mainu's exaggerated ready stance a skeptical look.

Mainu froze and glanced back at Torval, who was still huddled behind his magic. "You know what? Good question. What is going on?"

"Release the magic," Torval said with a tremor in his voice, "and we can talk."

"And let you attack?"

With the air of a newly enlightened philosopher, Ipris told him, "He's not the one attacking."

"Valkon Suuruk Agelletama," Torval incanted, and Mainu winced as a field of glittering magic expanded outwards from Torval's hand. All other magic dispelled.