The Howl of Avooblis Read online

  Earl stuck out his chest, but Dagdron ignored the pointless praise.

  “Do you know all the happenings in Broodavia?” Earl asked.

  “I manage to follow most of them,” Egon answered.

  “Have you heard about a rogue that might be in some sort of trouble?” Earl cast a quick glance at Dagdron, and Egon followed his eyes.

  “Please, remove your hood,” the old warrior said.

  Dagdron, knowing Earl would do it for him anyway, uncovered his head. Egon nodded in affirmation.

  “You must be the son of Dugan Obor, which means you must be Earl Valorington,” Egon said, looking first at Dagdron and then at Earl. “I know exactly where the rogue’s father is.”

  “Where?” Earl said anxiously.

  “In the dungeon in Boulder Castle.”

  “He is in trouble,” Earl said.

  “Why is he in jail?” Dagdron asked.

  “I am not privy to many details, but I know he was creeping near the castle and was recognized as your father and a friend of the Valoringtons. That was enough for King Fortigroff to take issue with him for being near the castle. But I am also inclined to believe that Dagdron’s father was following a lead about the same cowardly enchanter that attacked you two boys tonight.” Egon turned his head to the side in thought.

  “Will you help us rescue him?” Earl asked.

  Egon nodded. “It would be my pleasure. You need to remain here. Do not venture out in the dark while in Broodavia. I do not know why the black enchanter attacked you, but your best chance at safety is to remain indoors until the daylight. I will unearth the exact location of the rogue’s father, and we will set a plan to free him.”

  With that, the ancient warrior headed to the door, striking a quick flexed pose before leaving the room, making sure to close the door securely.

  “Thank goodness we decided to come to Broodavia,” Earl said. “Even I didn’t want to believe that your dad would really need our help.”

  “And we found the Backer,” Dagdron said.

  Earl, fear crossing his face, instantly knew who Dagdron was referring to.

  “That enchanter’s spells were the strongest I’ve ever witnessed,” Earl said. “Dagdron, I think he might even be more powerful than Headmaster Gwauldron. Byron wasn’t kidding when he said he had a great ally.”

  For once, Dagdron completely agreed.

  Dagdron and Earl didn’t hear from Egon over the next couple of days, so they spent their time exploring more of Broodavia. Earl dragged Dagdron to blacksmith after blacksmith, browsing the fine workmanship of the warrior paraphernalia. The only break they took from weapons was when they watched the boulder-sculpting and gem-polishing demonstrations Earl scoped out, as well as the boulder acrobats in one of the Broodavian plazas. Dagdron had mild interest in watching the men jump and flip from the stacks of boulders in the plaza, but he didn’t need to watch the performance three times in two days like Earl did. Dagdron, to combat his boredom, observed houses nearby that he thought he could lock pick his way into. But Earl, taking Egon’s warning completely seriously, kept a vigilant watch on him, not allowing him to slip out after dark.

  Egon gave a strong pound on their bedroom door a few nights later. Earl cautiously cracked the door open before letting the old warrior in.

  “I have confirmed where your father is being held captive,” Egon explained. “Rescue will be difficult, but I think we can manage. We’d best act tonight in case word of your presence in the city spreads to the king.”

  Earl was frozen for a minute before rushing to gather his provisions back into his pack. Dagdron, already knowing he had his dagger under his cloak, stood near the door, waiting for Earl.

  Egon led the young adventurers out of the inn and along the streets, keeping a cautious watch for any sign of danger. They went to the north wall of the city, where one of the waterfalls cascaded. He herded the two boys into the shadows against the boulders, their voices masked by the falling water.

  “At this time of night, we would be too conspicuous leaving through the entrance, so we’ll have to go up,” Egon explained, motioning with his head toward the wall. “Can you manage?”

  “Of course we can,” Earl said confidently.

  Dagdron, memories of Earl’s struggles climbing his tree in the back of the Adventurers’ Academy filling his head, let Egon and Earl go first. Egon attacked the wall straightaway, scaling it with no trouble at all. Earl stared in wonderment, and even Dagdron watched with some surprise. For being so old, Dagdron thought, Egon still had great climbing skills. When Egon reached the top, he struck his customary pose before gesturing for the boys to hurry.

  Dagdron pushed Earl forward, following him up the wall. Earl struggled in a few places, but Dagdron, an agile climber from his growing-up years in Cliffmount, maintained a position just below him. Not wanting Earl to know he was spotting him, Dagdron kept his dagger in hand, jabbing his companion each time he slowed down, much to Earl’s chagrin.

  “That was uncalled for, Dagdron,” Earl said when they reached the top, rubbing his legs and backside where the rogue had poked him. “My climbing has gotten better and better over the two years at the academy so far.”

  Dagdron remained expressionless. Egon took a moment, considering both boys, before leading them onward. The ancient fighter, like most warriors, didn’t appear to be overly concerned with moving quietly. The group jumped from boulder to boulder, the warriors thudding as they landed. Dagdron landed lithely, maintaining his silence, regardless of his companions’ bulky thumps. They continued along the wall until they neared the mountain that backed Broodavia, where one of the entrances to the many mines was located.

  “Stay calm, and follow my lead,” Egon said, pausing until Earl and Dagdron nodded in understanding.

  They approached the mine entrance, where two hefty guards stood sentry. As soon as the Broodavians saw Egon, they relaxed their stance and greeted him with robust handshakes.

  “Coleman and Craig, I’m pleased to greet you tonight,” Egon said. “I know it’s uncustomary, but with the tight schedule I run, I find it necessary to give my two young friends a tour of the mines at night.”

  As the two guards looked at the warrior and rogue, Earl played his part perfectly without even trying. At the very mention of being given a tour of the legendary mines of Broodavia, Earl’s face lit up with excitement. The honest eagerness easily persuaded the sentries that little threat existed.

  “Of course, Egon,” Coleman said. “Would you like one of us to accompany you?”

  “You’re so kind to offer, but that won’t be necessary.” Egon smiled at the guards, struck a quick pose, and then motioned for Dagdron and Earl to follow. The guards, looking with admiration at Egon, stepped aside. The ancient warrior took one of the torches lighting up the entrance and carried it with him.

  The shaft began with a gentle descent. Egon spoke loudly, giving the history and other facts about the mines. Earl listened with rapt attention, but Dagdron, knowing Egon was putting on a show for the sentries, ignored most of what he said. The path continued straight until it forked to the left and right. Without slowing, Egon took them to the right.

  Egon stopped his commentary after walking five minutes along the right fork, which allowed Earl to start his questions about the mines and gems. Dagdron decided he would much prefer to have more information about their situation, so he cut Earl off after five questions.

  “How long have you lived in Broodavia?” the rogue asked.

  “I’ve served this great city for the large part of my life.”

  “They let you give tours of the mines?” The slight tone of suspicion in the rogue’s voice made Egon turned his head.

  “Only of this one,” Egon answered. “This mine has been primarily bled dry of gems, so King Fortigroff approved it for tourists to visit. The other mines are restricted to royalty and workers alone. Even I am forbidden from entering.”

  “You must have such a great reputation in
Broodavia.” Earl joined the conversation. “Those guards let you right through.”

  Egon nodded his head in the dim torchlight.

  “Why are you helping us?” Dagdron said. “The richy king will know you’re involved.”

  Earl, catching Dagdron’s accusatory tone, elbowed his friend.

  Egon, accepting the question as valid, answered. “I can’t deny I have a great sense of loyalty to Broodavia, but something is afoot, and an adventurer’s true duty is not to one city alone. We belong to the land. I spoke truth when I told you that I know little of the black enchanter who attacked you, but I have sensed darkness brewing as well. I don’t know all the happenings over the last two years, but my instincts are telling me that you two and the rogue’s father are involved, and that we must rescue him.”

  Dagdron, accepting the explanation, fell back into silence.

  More shafts broke off from the main one as they continued. Egon eventually took a right turn and followed a path that led deeper and deeper underground. Earl got back to asking questions about the mines and, when he ran out of those, he sought information on Broodavia and the different quests Egon had fulfilled. The old warrior was content to answer each of the inquiries.

  They eventually turned into a short shaft and Egon brought them to a halt. He tilted the torch, lighting up a chasm at the end of the tunnel.

  “This is where the rogue must go on alone,” Egon said.

  “What?” Earl exclaimed, his voice echoing. “I can’t abandon Dagdron.”

  “It is not abandonment,” Egon said, squeezing Earl’s shoulder in a manly fashion. “An adventurer should never be afraid to ask for assistance, and this part of our rescue requires certain skills that our rogue companion possesses.”

  Egon motioned the young adventurers closer to the edge.

  “The dungeons of Broodavia are far underground. This shaft was used to facilitate easy transport of gems during the construction of the castle. The bridge that used to exist was destroyed to restrict access, but from what I’ve seen of Dagdron’s climbing skills, I believe he has the abilities to descend into the chasm. From there, you can follow the path to the dungeons and free your father. The noise two warriors would raise makes it illogical for us to accompany him.”

  Earl still looked at Dagdron with concern, but the rogue didn’t need to hear anything else. The chasm couldn’t be that much deeper than the climb up the wall had been, Dagdron thought. Without a second thought, he lowered himself over the edge, groping the rough points and spaces in between the boulders.

  “Go to the right,” Egon said as Dagdron’s head passed the ledge. He angled the torch to give the rogue light for as long as he could.

  “Be careful, Dagdron,” Earl called.

  Dagdron descended as quickly as he could, only pausing once when he reached the edge of the torchlight to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He used his sense of touch to feel the boulders and find hand- and footholds and arrived at the bottom of the chasm even sooner than he had expected.

  He followed Egon’s directions and went right. He hadn’t been able to follow each of the turns Egon had taken through the mines, but Dagdron still felt like he was going in the direction where the castle would be. When he came to a wall, he saw a tiny spot of light. He took a moment to peek through the hole but couldn’t make out anything concrete.

  Dagdron searched the rock further, finding the outline of a disguised doorway. His only option appeared to be to risk opening the door and hope no one was on the other side. Dagdron wedged his dagger into the crack, prying the door open just a bit. Then he opened it just far enough so he could slip through. On the other side was a corridor lit every ten feet or so with lanterns hanging from the ceiling. He didn’t see anyone else, so he headed to the left.

  The good news, Dagdron found, was that the dungeon had been built in an old mine shaft that wasn’t too expansive. He had entered the left side of the outer corridor that formed a box around the exterior of the dungeon. Four or five additional hallways cut across horizontally, linking the right and left portions. The bad news, Dagdron saw, was that each cell had been sculpted out of the hard rock and finished with heavy stone doors. Each door had a small peephole, but that wasn’t enough to gather any details about the occupants. The rogue, not knowing what sort of criminals might be incarcerated, didn’t want to randomly pick the locks. The only option he could come up with was to pause at each door and repeat, “Dugan, Dugan, Dugan,” and see what response he received.

  As Dagdron went along, he received a few sleepy moans and one or two growls, but it wasn’t until he whispered at a door in one of the cross corridors that “Dagdron?” was the response, followed by light footsteps.

  “How did you get here?” Dugan asked through the wall.

  “Who cares? Let’s get out of here,” Dagdron replied.

  “Wait. The doors scrape when they open.”

  “Can you run and climb?” Dagdron pulled his lock pick from his cloak.

  “I’m a little roughed up but should be able to make it.”

  “Get ready.”

  Dagdron stuck his pick into the metal lock that had been burrowed into the stone door. The lock was so heavy that he felt his pick bend, so he wedged the point of his dagger in for support. Even the rusty click seemed to echo along the shaft, but once Dagdron pulled the door open, it didn’t matter. As his father had warned, the heavy stone grated, alerting the entire dungeon that one of the cells was opening.

  Dagdron noticed the cuts and bruises on his father’s face as he darted out of the cell. They ran together, Dagdron guiding his father back to the left-most corridor. Just as they reached the hidden doorway, the shouts of guards echoed along the passageway. Dagdron and Dugan saw two jailers rushing toward them with their swords drawn. Dagdron forced the door open, letting his father pass first, and then slammed the door shut after he went through himself.

  Dagdron dashed into the darkness, leaving his father to follow by the sound of his running feet. As he went, Dagdron kept glancing up until he spotted the torchlight far above, where Egon and Earl were waiting.

  “Climb here,” Dagdron said when they were directly below the light.

  He lingered until his father was a few feet up the wall but then scurried after him as he heard pounding footsteps and saw approaching torches. Dugan, wheezing for breath, faltered a few times on the way up the chasm. Dagdron was tempted to pull out his dagger, but he controlled himself, lending a hand to his father to help steady him instead.

  When Dagdron and Dugan were halfway up the ascent, they heard the guards yelling directly below them. Then, from the sounds below, Dagdron assumed the guards were making an effort to climb. They must have been unsuccessful, Dagdron realized, because the guards’ frustrated yells and footsteps retreating back toward the dungeon carried upward.

  Earl, full of anticipation, was on his belly with his arms extended, ready to help Dagdron and Dugan as soon as they were within reach. Dugan took his hand gratefully, and Earl hoisted him to flat ground. Dagdron scurried up directly behind.

  “The guards heard us,” Dagdron said to Egon.

  “I knew they would,” Egon said.

  Earl was busy tending to Dagdron’s father, fussing over his bruises and the scorch mark on his neck where a spell had burned him, which Dagdron hadn’t seen in the darkness of the dungeon. Dugan kept reassuring Earl that he would manage.

  Egon allowed them to rest for a few minutes before calling them to attention.

  “We’ll try to escape, but we’d best all be ready for a fight,” the old warrior said, pulling out a spare dagger and giving it to Dugan.

  “What will you do?” Earl said. “We don’t want your reputation to be tarnished.”

  “I’m afraid my time in Broodavia has most likely come to an end.” Egon appeared resolved to the fact. “I will have to see what new adventures await me in distant lands.”

  Earl, more saddened than Egon, lost the color in his face.

&
nbsp; “Stay close behind me,” Egon said. “We’ll need to jog.”

  Dugan nodded and motioned for him to start.

  Egon led them through the mine shafts, heading back upward but following a course that took them farther south. Dagdron, content to let Earl help his father, ran right behind Egon, with the other two in the rear. When Egon and Dagdron paused at one fork to allow Earl and Dugan to catch up, the older warrior turned to the rogue.

  “You are an honorable rogue,” Egon said. Dagdron let a scowl cross his face in the torchlight, and a smile broke out on Egon’s manly face. “Your friend might not realize it, but I can see beneath a rogue’s countenance. You hide your affections behind your cloak and dagger, but I know you were spotting your friend on the climb of the wall in spite of the stabs. And I knew you would rescue your father. You’re one of the few, but you are an honorable rogue without a doubt.”

  Dagdron drew his dagger and pointed it at Egon, but Earl and Dugan caught up before Dagdron could let Egon see how affectionate his stabs really were.

  After jogging for at least half an hour, during which Dagdron had flashbacks to his first year at the academy when Scar was his instructor, they finally reached ground level, but on the opposite side of the castle from where they had entered. Egon led them to the doorway to the mines on that side, where they came face to face with a group of guards.

  The Broodavian guards, not knowing that the famed Broodavia warrior was involved, hesitated when they saw Egon exit. This gave Egon the opportunity to bowl a few of them out of the way before lifting his sword to fight. Dagdron ran out after him with Dugan and Earl stumbling behind.

  “Climb and head south,” Egon called as he moved his sword, pointing it at each of the guards in turn, who were still confused as to what was happening.

  “Attack them, you fools,” a voice yelled.

  Dagdron dared a quick glance to confirm who the voice belonged to. His initial thought was correct: it was Byron Fortigroff, his and Earl’s nemesis from the academy. As the guards attacked Egon and the clash of swords sounded in the night, Dagdron found the best climbing spot and then pushed Earl and his father forward. Once they were ascending the side of the mountain above the mine, Dagdron followed. One of the guards succeeded in getting around Egon and grabbed Dagdron’s cloak. Dagdron kicked backward, feeling his foot make contact with a face, and then was free to climb unimpeded, still hearing Byron calling out orders below.