The entrance to the Lifekeeper vaults reminded Cade of a crown formed out of interlocking tree trunks. The grown building was a helix of incredible intricacy, bending and bulging into a strange braid that formed the circumference of the massive building.
He and his comrades approached the front entrance, which began with long banners that drifted lazily on their birchwood pikes set deep beneath the cobblestone path. Behind them, the Grand Pavilion buzzed with activity, vendors, and countless tourists.
“It looks like that braided bread from the Hearthstone Bakery we visited,” Cade commented to Gavin, who nodded his agreement. The tall telepath seemed different to Cade this morning. Less jaded. Less fake.
“Indeed,” Gavin said with a cheeky grin. “But only if Grimnar and his wife were horribly drunk and also lost all control of their limbs.”
Cade quirked an eyebrow as they walked along the smooth cobblestone. Bunny sat on his usual perch on Cade’s shoulder, and Cade absently scratched beneath the dragonling’s chin.
“You have a high opinion of that bakery, don’t you?” Cade asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I just recognize quality when I see it. That’s all.” Gavin’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he kept his gaze forward.
“Me too, Gav. Me too,” Cade answered as he tapped the tall man on his shoulder before he moved forward to the front of their team.
It was time to claim their loot from the Lifekeeper’s vaults.
A line of Lifekeeper servants stood at attention near the top of the green and white accented incline. There was a golden mosaic depicting Life in a flowing dress of flowers and ivy stretched across the massive ramp.
Cade appreciated each of the minor details the others seemed to just gloss over. The use of marbled stones to highlight the irises of Life’s eyes, or how the artist chose to use green gemstones chiseled into thin lines to better depict the flowing nature of the vines. It was masterful work, and they were walking over it like it was little more than a welcome mat.
They were heathens—all of them. Loveable heathens.
“Hurry it up, Cade,” Elena snorted from directly behind him as he danced around the most intricate sections of the mosaic. “You can look at the art later.”
“Mastery is never rushed, and neither am I,” Cade answered defensively.
“I can’t tell if you’re calling yourself masterful art or not. If so, I disagree. Passionately,” Elena said right before she scuffed her boots along the ramp with excruciatingly loud squeaks.
Cade’s eye twitched.
“Who hurt you?” he asked in a barely audible whisper.
Elena punched his shoulder a bit too hard as she sauntered past him. “You already know the answer to that little question, Stormhollow.”
“Greetings, champions,” a Lifekeeper declared in far too nasally a voice for Cade to take seriously.
The thin bespectacled elf bowed at the hips in their direction, her silken brown hair drooping precariously close to the ground as she did. When she rose to her full height, Cade resisted the impulse to whistle in admiration.
She was easily over seven feet tall and had a nose that could’ve doubled as the rudder for a small ship. Her ruby-framed lenses glistened as she looked down at all of them, and that impression only worsened when she snorted softly at the sight of them.
“If you all will follow me,” the she-elf instructed in a bored tone.
The Lifekeeper waved a bony hand toward the entrance, which creaked open on ancient gold hinges at the gesture. Inside was well-lit with gold and amber glowflakes that spanned the spiraling chamber like a wreath of flames. The entrance extended beyond the front doors and into a wide balcony that overlooked a bustling array of desks and a multitude of Lifekeepers.
Two sets of stairs twisted down to this main floor, and a truly enormous vault door was set into the opposite wall from where they stood. Tastefully placed windows across the braided ceiling let in an abundance of natural light as well, giving the place a warm and cozy ambiance.
“Seriously, whoever you paid to design your buildings needs a raise. And a vacation. And a crown,” Cade muttered to their guide as he appraised this richly patterned interior.
“Not that someone like you would appreciate such things, but Life employed Luc Ironfoot himself to design these vaults,” the tall elf commented dryly.
Cade stumbled, and Orro caught his arm before he fell face first into the ground. “Are you… you’re serious, aren’t you? The Luc Ironfoot? When? Did he do more than just this place? How? Please, you’ve got to let me know more!”
The elf turned to him, surprise marring her previously passive expression.
“You know who that is? Really?” she asked in a disbelieving tone. “A human who has an inkling of taste can look like you?”
What comradery he might’ve felt toward the elf died instantly. He thought he had finally found another haven of refined taste at the mention of his favorite architect of all time, but it was not to be.
The young thief sighed and waved off her insults.
“Watch it, lady,” Elena sneered from Cade’s left. Her hand rested threateningly on the stiletto whip blade that hid within her belt.
“My name is Kallista, you rust-colored ingrate,” the elf replied with an upturned nose.
She adjusted her spectacles and ignored Elena even as the lockpick rushed forward with a snarl. Jer caught her arm just in time to prevent his twin from executing the wiry Lifekeeper.
“Please keep that one on a leash,” Kallista drawled and lifted her nose. “You may have our divine Lady’s permission to acquire a single item each, but we shan’t permit violence on these grounds. Harm any one of us, and we will be within our rights to retaliate under Elysian law.”
“Elena, stand down,” Cade said coldly, but all of his rage was now centered on this pike of an elf.
His magic ached to burn forth and char this apathetic host, but he knew her threat was not made idly. They would have to be careful.
“But Cade?!” Elena hissed.
He saw how her chin quivered dangerously, and he gave her a soft look.
“I know. Not now, though. Let it go,” he whispered as Kallista snorted and began to descend the stairs.
Cade squeezed Elena’s shoulders and waited patiently as she gathered herself.
Elena wiped at her nose and sniffed. “I’m going to find out where that witch lives and piss all over her stuff.”
Cade choked on his laugh but nodded. “Alright. You do that. But we need these items if we have any chance for tomorrow’s plan to work out. Please, hold off until then. I know you’re stronger than this.”
He let go of her shoulder.
“You’re stronger than her,” he repeated, and Elena finally nodded in agreement.
A small part of him knew that if Elena went through with her vengeance, there wouldn’t be much left of that elf when she was done.
“We don’t have all day, champions,” Kallista spat from the bottom of the stairs.
A few Lifekeepers glanced over at them, but Cade ignored them all. Nora stood at the top of the steps, her fists clenched by her side as she stretched her neck.
“You okay?” Cade asked her as he and Elena started their descent down the iron and gold rungs.
“If I have to endure another entitled prick giving us grief because of what we look like, I might explode,” Nora admitted in a sharp whisper.
Sure enough, she was glaring daggers at the back of Kallista’s head. A cold breeze brushed against the back of his neck at the sight of those furious eyes.
The three of them rejoined the others and followed the oblivious Lifekeeper as she led her would-be tormentors toward the grand vault doors. Cade put his hands into his pockets, fiddling with the focal stone hidden there.
“Oh, this day just keeps getting better,” Cade muttered to himself when he saw who waited for them at the massive enchanted gate.
Bazz, as rigid and brooding as ever, stood by the entrance down into the vaults. A muscle twitched in his jaw while his hands rested behind his back.
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“Champions,” Bazz began with a sneer. “Our beloved goddess has deemed you worthy of entry into the hallowed halls of our most secure vaults…”
His voice drifted off, giving all of them a clear impression of what he thought about that. Cade wanted to push on this sensitive issue just to see if he could get the bigot to blaspheme against his own deity but decided now wasn’t the best time to die.
“You are each permitted one item and one item only,” Bazz continued like he hadn’t just silently insulted all of them. “If we witness you… acquire more than one, we shall have no other choice than to see you as a threat against our goddess and city and retaliate appropriately.”
“Barely anything appropriate about his tone, that’s for sure,” Elena whispered just loud enough for the team to hear her.
Orro coughed while Evie and Gavin held back laughs. Bazz gave their group a venomous stare for several painful moments before he continued on.
The elderly Lifekeeper sniffed indignantly. “We shall be watching each of you closely—for your safety, of course. And if you have any questions about an item, you may ask any one of the attendants below.”
Bazz took a deep breath.
“Let’s get this over with.” The Lifekeeper pointed his arm down into the vault.
“Remember the plan,” Cade sent through the mental link.
“What does my item look like again?” Evie replied immediately, shooting him a nervous look over her shoulder as Bazz turned away.
Several Lifekeepers placed their hands on the intricately enchanted gold surface of the vault door, which flashed with energy at their touch. Gears whirred from somewhere behind the door, locking and shifting into place over several seconds.
“It’s a staff with a satyr’s head carved into the top,” Cade sent back quickly. “But don’t ask for it explicitly. They can’t suspect we already know what we’re looking for.”
When he saw how Evie adjusted her weight from one foot to the other in rapid succession, he sent, “You’re going to do great, Evie. Ask me for help if you can’t find it.”
She smiled and nodded at him right as the giant door swung inward. A wide staircase looped downward, obscuring what lay beyond.
“Follow me and never leave the sight of a Lifekeeper,” Bazz instructed coolly. “They will ensure you don’t go where your kind doesn’t belong.”
Kallista joined him as the pair of them glided down the stairs.
“If only they knew,” Jer sneered over their telepathic connection.
Their group journeyed downward, taking the spiral staircase to its end. The glowflakes glittered like celestial paragons in their sconces, illuminating the winding corridor ahead of them.
The air beneath the earth hummed with an almost palpable energy as they descended deeper into the root system of the ancient, interlocked trees that comprised this building. The scent of rich, loamy earth mingled with a faint metallic tang as they neared the legendary vaults of the Lifekeepers. The atmosphere crackled with latent power, and it was as if the very air shimmered with magic.
Cade studied the walls, absently counting the steps between them and the main exit just in case. There was an organic ebb and flow to the design, each striation of the roots balancing between order and chaos.
The young thief’s eyes narrowed on the vaulted ceiling and stonework embossed with the tree roots. There was more order than disorder to their expansive reach. Then it hit him.
They formed runes.
“Luc Ironfoot is my hero,” Cade breathed as he took in the woven walls with fresh awe.
But with each second they lingered in that long staircase beneath the surface of the world, his wariness grew. These runes weren’t just for stabilization. They could be used for containment as well.
“Team, there’s something wrong,” Cade sent but felt interference in the telepathic link.
It was the ball all over again. Cade cursed under his breath. Orro leaned in, concern hidden just beneath his stoic expression.
“We’re getting blocked,” he whispered to his best friend. Their footsteps echoed in the massive corridor, the faint conversation between Bazz and Kallista reaching them in a murmured mess.
“We’ll just have to adjust,” Orro eventually replied.
Cade was about to address the team, but a collective gasp drowned out his thoughts.
They had reached the vaults of the Lifekeepers.
Rows upon rows of pedestals stretched out before them, each one bearing a unique and powerful artifact. Weapons of all shapes and sizes glistened under the soft, ethereal light that seemed to emanate from the very walls.
Swords with blades flickered with crackling energy, bows strung with threads of starlight, and staffs crowned with glowing gems. Each item radiated a potent aura, restrained only by the complex enchantments that surrounded them.
Further in, chained objects were secured within glowing, translucent boxes. Even at a glance, it was clear that these were artifacts of darker origins—likely cursed tomes bound in dragonhide, amulets pulsing with malevolent energy, and weapons that seemed to whisper of bloodshed and chaos.
Cade had read about the purge of powerful artifacts in the city of Elysia approximately five thousand years ago. No one knew what drove the goddess to stamp out against competing dominions in her city, but the tabloids Cade purchased were filled with obscure accounts of what might’ve been in the city during that magical lockdown.
Cade noted the chains binding these illegal objects were engraved with ancient symbols, their power palpable even through the layers of containment. He immediately wanted to go and touch them.
“Wow,” Evie breathed, her eyes wide with wonder and a tinge of sadness. “This place smells like a graveyard.”
“Don’t touch anything,” Bazz growled at their team, dispensing with any hint of restraint.
Cade wondered if even Life’s gaze could penetrate the overlapping enchantments in this place.
“Every item here is protected by layers of incredibly potent magic,” Bazz warned. “One wrong move, and you could lose a limb. Or worse. On second thought, feel free to smash your faces against any of the restricted items. It would save me the headache of the paperwork from this pointless excursion.”
“Charming,” Elena muttered. “I bet he’s invited to all the parties.”
Bunny sniffed the air and huffed, smoke curling from his nostrils. Cade turned and tapped his pocket, using a quick series of signals to pass on the message that their link was out of commission here. Everyone understood, but none of them made an overt sign of understanding.
They were professionals, after all.
“Sorry, what did he say?” Jer asked his twin in a whisper that could’ve woken the dead.
“Gods, Jer!” Elena shoved her brother in Kallista’s direction before heading toward the long aisles cramped with items. “I’m serious. You need glasses. Go ask that tall witch over there where she got hers. You need help.”
“Be careful, everyone,” Cade said to his dispersing team.
“He’s right,” Nora echoed, her eyes scanning the room with a mix of caution and grudging fascination. “These items… some of them could level cities.”
Kallista sniffed loudly and adjusted her crimson spectacles. “Only the worthy may wield such power. And I highly doubt any of you qualify. None of you are beyond copper rank, by my estimations. Most of these objects would incinerate you the moment you tried to use them.”
The way she said it made Cade feel like she was leaving something out, but he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly.
“Big words from someone who’s just a glorified librarian,” Gavin shot back, earning a few chuckles from the group.
They all started to stroll through the gathered weapons and tools, each on a mission of their own.
Gavin stepped closer to a pedestal bearing a gleaming sword, its blade seemingly made of pure light.
“What about this one? What’s its story?” Cade heard Gavin ask the ever-watchful Bazz.
Bazz’s expression softened slightly as he looked at the weapon. “That is the Blade of Dawn. Forged by the first Lifekeepers, it is said to bring light to the darkest of places and banish any evil it touches. But it chooses its wielder.”
“Typical,” Gavin muttered. “Nothing’s ever simple with you lot.”
Good, Cade thought.
As long as they made it appear that they were aimlessly wandering, they might just get away with what came next.
The young thief wandered deeper into the vault, and the air grew heavier with the weight of the enchantments. The walls seemed to pulse with a life of their own, the roots aglow with pulsating runes that were easily dozens of feet in diameter. And there were dozens of them throughout this massive chamber.
Cade forced himself to remain calm. He pointed at the items that he passed, muttering their labels aloud as he recalled their origins.
He knew those historical volumes Jer had snatched for him were hardly foolproof, but it was incredible to see some of his speculative insights confirmed as he read the item descriptions.
“Finger of Kralvo,” Cade whispered as he observed the floating digit in an undulating orb of liquid.
Sparks of malevolent black energy sparked through the water, but none of the foul magic reached the edge of the enchanted globe. Large golden sigils floated around the orb and finger.
He continued down the aisle, passing spears coated in blood, a sword with a bite taken out of it, and a clump of hair placed within a translucent box with more chains than any of the other objects.
Nora strolled up to Cade, and then pretended to read the bronze plaque next to him as she addressed him.
“Stormhollow,” the powerful warrior whispered. “There’s something you need to see.”
She walked back the way she came before he could respond.
Cade followed her through the various shelves and pedestals until she stopped in front of a pair of earrings that looked faintly familiar. He read the description and his heart went cold.
“Earrings of minor water control, acquired during the 50th Tournament of Life from contestant Selena Banner, a silver-ranked dark elf with an affinity for the water dominion. No poisons, hexes, geas, or curses were detected on these items. Ranking and quality are as follows…” Cade read aloud.
Nora peered at his face, studying his facial expressions with an intensity that rivaled his own. “These bastards are robbing the fallen contestants, Cade. No graves. No funerals. They are stealing from the dead and bolstering their pockets with our gear.”
Cade couldn’t speak.
His vision swam.
Flashes of memories he thought he’d buried forever resurfaced in a flood. Flies creeping across dead eyes. Rayka’s tears staining a blue tunic and a motionless chest. Two men slicing the small pouch from his dad’s belt loop while another took his boots.
A tattoo of broken manacles peeking out from the collar of the largest man.
“We’ve got to do something, Cade,” Nora hissed under her breath.
Cade turned to her, his vision blurry.
Slowly, he shook his head. “No. We do nothing.”
Nora was aghast.
“But Cade—” she started, righteous fury as blatant as the dawn consuming her eyes.
He shook his head with deliberate calmness.
“Nora. We do nothing. This is not our fight,” he replied loudly but glanced down at his hands.
Nora followed his gaze and watched his fingers tapping against his thigh in rapid succession. With a great deal of effort, she breathed out, some of the tension escaping her lean shoulders. Kallista passed where they stood, her bespectacled gaze silently judging them as she looked them up and down.
When it was clear she had moved beyond earshot, Cade finally said what he actually thought. “We’ll make this right. I don’t know how, but we’ll make this right. I promise.”
And he would go to the deepest and darkest hells to keep that promise.
What's the most likely reason Bazz hasn't been fired from his customer service position yet?
