Crypt
“You can’t run,” the female guard called.
Math had already figured that out. He was cornered in a dead end—a pun he might’ve appreciated under better circumstances—and now faced two people authorized to kill him for trying to escape. A second dead end, if one wanted to be morbid about it.
Also, the hanging bodies were extremely creepy.
This wasn’t a proper ossuary—no scattered bones, no piles of ash. The corpses were whole, well-preserved, suspended like meat in a butcher’s freezer. Not a drop of blood sullied the marble. There were too many bodies to count.
Math turned around. “Quick question, if you’ve got a moment?”
His matter-of-fact tone made both guards hesitate.
“Are you serious?” the man asked.
“As death,” Math replied. “Which—speaking of—I have to ask. Are you two still alive?”
The woman laughed, sharp and unfriendly.
They advanced. Math retreated, inching back toward the gaping drop behind him.
“Alive by what definition?” the man asked. “We can think, talk, plan. Isn’t that alive enough?”
“It’s something,” Math said, squinting. “But if I had a sword—which I don’t—and I stuck one of you with it, you wouldn’t bleed, would you? No heartbeat. No breath. You’re kept aware and awake by magic.”
The man straightened. “I’m being kept aware and awake by universal forces, the same way you are. You’re here as the result of deliberate acts and the consequences of those deliberate acts, exactly as I am. So how am I not alive?”
The woman made a noise of disgust. “Isken, stop it. We don’t have time for your philosophy lectures.”
“But he said—” The man pointed.
“How hard are you to hurt?” Math asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the woman snapped. “Can we just kill him now?”
But the man—Isken—wasn’t ready for that. Math had his attention.
“Practically impossible,” he bragged. “Even if you were an expert with that hypothetical sword, it wouldn’t matter. We can’t die. Stab our organs, we keep functioning. Break our bones, we keep moving. We’re immortal.”
“You can die, though,” the woman added nastily—and quite unnecessarily.
“That sounds terrifying.” Math wasn’t lying. If this was what the grim lords had been like—all that and deadly spellcraft besides—it was no wonder they were still feared a thousand years later. “But there’s something you should know.”
The man scoffed. “And what would that be?”
Math shifted—vanished from one spot and appeared on the other side of the guard.
The man startled, his body reacting before his brain caught up—
And Math kicked him, hard, toward the empty moat circling the chamber. After a few seconds, the man’s scream cut off with a distant thud.
Math eyed the woman. He’d known from the start she’d be the problem.
“I really hope he wasn’t bragging about being impossible to kill.”
“You little gravefucker.” Her gauntleted hand tightened on her sword’s pommel. “I’m going to enjoy gutting you.”
Math kept his eyes on her as he leaned toward the chasm. “You okay down there?”
Cursing floated up from the darkness. A positive sign, he thought. The woman took it as a sign he wasn’t paying attention. She rushed him.
He waited until the last second and then shifted his position again.
She stopped herself before falling into the pit, but he doubted she liked how close it had been. “Stop doing that!” she screamed.
“If you insist.” He circled a Sky spell for wind.
That caught her off guard. She windmilled her arms comically but, unfortunately, still didn’t cooperate by falling into the pit. Her sword did, though—slipping from her grip and vanishing into the dark with a faint clatter. She let out a spectacular curse.
Math felt much better about his situation after that. She was still dangerous, but now she was dangerous and unarmed.
Then two things happened at once, and Math wasn’t sure which was worse. First, he heard footsteps pounding down the hallway: more guards.
Second, the corpses hanging from the slanted walls opened their eyes.