The sledgehammer is heavy, but I guess that's the whole point with sledgehammers. I run my fingers along the haft, feeling the grains of the wood. Finna grunts on the floor next to my feet, and I snap my eyes to the black metal cube. This is infuriating, absolutely maddening. I pull on the anger, the frustration to keep moving, and swing the sledgehammer in a wild arc before I have time to forget what I'm doing.
The hammer snaps into the metal. The sound is wrong, like half of it is missing. The iron cracks sharply, metal snapping like thick glass, but the hammer just bounces off. The haft slams my hands, the recoil leaving them tingling and shaky.
Fractures spread from the place I hit the metal cube. I realize it's made of coarse, cast iron, because it's suppose to insulate whatever is inside from interacting with the mana. Iron doesn't like magic. Dim blue light escapes from the cracks. I can't resist pushing my face close to the cube to try to sneak a peek inside. Once I do, I realize the cracks are obviously too small for that and the whole idea was stupid.
I raise the hammer again and bring it down from over my head to land on the corner of the metal cube. I put all of my strength into the blow, like I'm chopping a large stump with an axe.
The box explodes. Crumpled iron showers out from the point of impact. The cube's other faces buckle in toward the shattered corner. I yelp as the hammer kicks, a jolt like I have never felt, slamming my hands and arms again. The hammer drops from my hands. I fall on my knees to hug my arms to my chest, the impact and tingling turning into an ache in my bones. My shoulders burn, but my fingers are still numb. I hiss, gritting my teeth together to fight the pain.
"You big baby," Finna says. "Rworg swung it around all the time."
She pats my shoulder and her hand lingers there for a moment. She squeezes and moves her hand to the top of my hair, tousling it. "Still… thanks. It… really helped."
I turn my head to look up at her. She does look better, standing straight again. The air is clear, the room bathed in faint blue light. I keep my arms pressed to my chest and clamber up, sniffing the air. There's no more ozone, the smell is gone.
Finna steps to the stone pedestal to look at the remains of the iron cube. It's ripped apart, the blue light shining out of it. She reaches in and pulls out a blue, shining stone, the size of her fist. "This must be it," she says, peering into it. "Wouldn't have guessed the world's most expensive and dangerous thing to look like a blue rock."
"Huh?" I say.
"Smuggling ambronite into Tenorsbridge would let you live like a king for a decade," she says, tossing the stone into the air. "Not to mention getting you absolutely killed."
She chuckles and tosses the ambronite to me.
I catch it, cradling it in both hands. "Are you ok now?" I ask. "For real?"
"Yeah," she says, licking her lips. "It's just… getting harder every time. I don't want to get a single headache anymore. Take care of that stupid rock, hear me?"
I nod. The ambronite shines steady and blue, a bit like the magical lights in the city. The light doesn't look like it comes from the stone, but more like it goes into it. On closer look it's more impressive than Finna made it sound. The stone looks like a crystal, deep blue in color, with defined and clear faces but smooth edges.
"Now, where the hell is Rworg and the old?" she asks.
I sigh, turning my eyes up. There's nothing above, just pitch black stone lit by the blue glow. The tiny motes of light are gone, but maybe I just can't see them with the ambronite shining in my hand. "I didn't notice him leaving, but my guess is that he's searching for Hearn."
Finna presses her mouth into a thin line. "I really can't trust any of you, can I?"
I chuckle, even if I'm worried. I must have been too addled, and Rworg sneaked away, driven by the mana flashing in his brain. "He couldn't have helped it. You know how he gets. Hearn neither. He probably fell too far behind and got confused." I weigh the chunk of ambronite in my hand. The air is sweetly clear and flat at the same time. It's like coming back from a vivid dream, waking up into a drab day. I love it.
"Well, let's go find them. We're good now, right? That thing won't burn itself out?"
I shrug. What do I know about ambronite? I stuff the stone into my backpack, but when I do, Finna makes a confused noise.
"It's dark," she says.
I turn away from the bag, blue light shining out of it, and notice she's right. The walls are dark, the motes of light gone. Further into the corridor, they reappear, but the room around us is pitch black, except the blue glow from my bag.
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"It really does suck out all magic," I mutter. "No matter, we can still see where we are going. Let's find them!"
It's weird how having the ambronite changes wandering the corridors. We walk in a bubble of inky darkness, moving away and toward the dim gloom of the rest of the corridors. Yet, as the corridors are pristine, it doesn't matter. The floor is always clear, always the same, so there's nothing to trip over. We're in darkness, but everywhere else is not, so the dark isn't even scary.
"This is weird," Finna whispers.
I agree. Something in the darkness makes us lower our voices, whisper, even when there's nothing there.
"They have to be in the direction we came from, right?" I ask.
"I guess. Why are you whispering?"
"You are too," I say.
She scoffs. "Everyone whispers in the dark."
"But you just—" I start, but she bumps into me, walking into my back. I grunt and stumble in surprise.
Her body presses into me, her arm wrapping around my abdomen, balancing me. I open my mouth, but my head is completely empty. She grabs my hair and yanks my head back. I feel her breath on my ear as she leans close.
For a second, I hope she'll kiss me. Then I panic that she's going to cut my throat, instead.
"Stop confusing me, forest boy," she hisses.
"Ahm," I say.
Finna clamps her teeth on my ear, and I squeak. "We get out of here alive first, got it?" she mumbles around her teeth, making me squirm with every movement. Then she lets go and pushes me from the back.
I stumble a couple of steps forward before regaining my balance. I turn back to stare at her, but she's already walking past me.
"Come on, let's find the two dummies," she says.
I rub my ear. My face must be bright red, but luckily, it's dark. It's equally lucky that she walks in front of me because I can't completely keep the dumb smile from my face. I raise my brows and lick my lips, fighting to regain control, even if my heart races.
Adventuring is the best.
The silence stretches. I have no idea what to say. I try to whistle like I sometimes do when I'm alone in the forest. Finna spins around and glares at me, so I stop. Finally, I remember what we're actually doing. "I hope Rworg and Hearn aren't in too much trouble," I say.
Finna scoffs. "Knowing him, he's already fighting the teratome."
I chuckle, but my face drops in the middle of the laugh. Finna glances back at me, and I see the worry in her eyes as well. "They couldn't have got that far, surely?" I ask.
"No, they couldn't have," she says.
She sounds as unsure as I feel. "Maybe we should run for a bit?"
"Yeah," she says.
Surprisingly, we catch up to Rworg before he has managed to get himself killed or completely lost. He's breathing hard and spinning around in the middle of a corridor, sword in hand. His face is red, and he's sweating like a pig, his skin shining even in the dim corridor light.
"A-ha!" he shouts at us, gripping his sword with both hands and raising it above his head. "Darkness, meet me! Let void pit itself against steel!"
"What?" Finna says.
I grab on to her sleeve and stop her, pull her back for a step. There's still a lot of space between us and him, but there's no telling what he might do. I remember that he killed a flying Kertharian mage by throwing his massive sword at her.
"Rworg!" I shout, as hard as I can. "It's us!"
"The voice of Folke, come to taunt me," he growls. His head spins this way and that, bared teeth shining white.
"I'm going to kill him," Finna says, mushing her face with her hand. "Rworg, you stupid bastard, relax!" she shouts.
A look of confusion crosses his face. He lifts an eyebrow and tilts his head. "It is really you?" he asks, hesitant.
"Yesssss," Finna says. "It's dark because we found the ambronite. We'll come to you, slowly, ok?"
"Approach!" he bellows, much too loudly, spinning his blade, moving it from one hand to the other. It cuts through the air.
I chuckle out loud, mostly out of panic. This has to be about as dangerous as anything I've faced so far. He spins the sword so fast, it looks like he could lose control of it at any moment. He looks completely unhinged, eyes wide and wild. Is this how I looked too when we were still seeped in mana? No wonder Finna was so fed up with us both.
I creep slowly closer. "Just a bit more. The ambronite should start clearing up the air around him soon. It's going to be fine," I mutter.
"Yeah, I'll stay behind you, just in case," Finna says.
Rworg slows down, finishing the spin with a flourish, rotating the blade under his arm and throwing it into the air. The tip of the sword almost touches the ceiling, wooshing as it goes. Rworg catches the sword by the hilt as it's coming down and lets it rotate once more, lowering the blunt edge to rest on his shoulder. "I recognize the banter now," he says.
"Whoa," I say, jaw hanging open, eyes on the blade.
"I have never dared to try that before," Rworg says, eyes flicking to the sword on his shoulder. "It is a very dangerous trick. Very stupid. Now, why did it get dark?"
"What do you mean, 'why did it get dark'!" Finna screams. "First you almost cut us into pieces, then yourself!"
"I got excited," he says, grinning. Then his face falls, and he places the sword to rest against the wall. His eyes start to glisten, and he steps forward, placing a hand on both of our shoulders. "I am sorry, friends."
"There, there," Finna says, patting his hand. "Just don't—"
Rworg grabs us both under his arms, squeezing us against his chest. My face squashes against it, my nose almost touching Finna's nose as she gets the same done to her.
I pat Rworg on the shoulder as a sign of surrender as Finna curses and makes faces right before my face. Rworg's chest rises and falls, as he sobs.
"It's fine," I groan, as I push myself off. Mostly to get further away from Finna. After what happened earlier, I'm worried she'll get confused and stab me instead of Rworg. "It's just the mana, makes us all do weird things," I say, stopping myself from glancing at Finna.
"And don't you forget that," Finna says.
Rworg wipes at his face with his arm and sniffles. He throws a confused look at Finna, but pulls himself straight. "It is as you say. My head feels clearer now. Is it because of the darkness?"
"It's because of the—," Finna says, but cuts herself off. "Wait, where's the white guy?"
"Hearn!" Rworg shouts, spinning around to look at every direction. "I left to find the old."
Finna looks around as well. "Well, if he's not with you, where the hell is he, then?"
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