Hadrian watched Royce sigh in disappointment as he looked at the dead end.
“I thought you said there was a door.” Royce addressed the wizard.
“There was, and is.”
Hadrian did not see a door. There was what appeared to be a faint outline of a door’s frame etched in the wall in front of them, but it was solid stone.
Royce grimaced. “Another invisible stone portal?”
“Don’t waste your time,” Magnus told him. “You’ll never open it. Trust me, I’m a dwarf. I spent hours trying to get in and nothing. That stone is enchanted and impenetrable. Crossing the river to get here was nothing compared to opening that door.”
Royce turned to the dwarf with a puzzled look in his eyes. “You’ve been here? You tried to enter the tower. Why?”
“I told you, I was doing a job for the church.”
“You said you made Lord Rufus a sword.”
“I did, but the archbishop didn’t want just any sword made for him. He wanted a replica of a sword, an elvish sword. He gave me a bunch of old drawings, which I used to make it. They were pretty good, with dimensions and material listed, but it’s not like being able to examine the real thing.” The dwarf’s stare lingered on Royce suggestively. “I was told others of the same type could be found inside this tower. I came out here and spent all day climbing around, but never found a way in. No doors or windows, just things like this.”
“This sword you made,” Esrahaddon said. “Did it have writing on the blade?”
“Yep,” Magnus replied. “They were real insistent that the inscription on the replica was exactly like that in the books.”
“That’s it,” Esrahaddon muttered. “The church isn’t here because of me, and they aren’t here to find the heir; they’re here to make an heir.”
“Make an heir? I don’t get it,” Hadrian said. “I thought you said they wanted the heir dead.”
“They do, but they are going to make a puppet. This Rufus has been picked to replace the true heir. There is a legend that only the bloodline of Novron can kill a Gilarabrywn. They will use this creature’s death as undisputed proof that their boy is the true heir. Not only will it provide them legitimate means to dictate laws to the kings, but it will also hinder my efforts to reinstate the real heir to power. Who will believe an old outlawed wizard when their boy slew a Gilarabrywn? They will let a few bumpkins try to fight only to die, in order to prove the invincibility of the beast. Then this Rufus will step up, and with his sword etched with the name, he’ll slay it and become emperor. With Rufus as their figurehead, the church will return to power and reform the empire. Excellent move, I must say. I’ll admit I hadn’t expected it.”
“A few moderate kings might have something to say about that,” Hadrian replied.
“And they know that as much as you do. They have a plan to deal with it, I’m sure.”
“So do we still need to get inside?” Hadrian asked.
“Oh yes,” the wizard told them. “Now more than ever.” He chuckled. “Just imagine if before their boy Rufus slays this beast, another contestant slays it first.”
The dwarf snorted. “Bah! I told you, you aren’t getting through that door. It’s solid stone.”
The wizard considered the archway once more. “Open it, Royce.”
Royce looked skeptical. “Open what? That’s a wall. There’s no latch, no lock, not even a seam. Anyone have a gem we can try?”
“This isn’t a gemlock,” the wizard explained.
“I agree and I would know,” Magnus told them.
“Try opening it anyway,” the wizard insisted, staring at Royce. “That’s why I brought you here, remember?”
Royce looked at the wall before him and scowled. “How?”
“Use your instincts. You opened the door to my prison and it had no latch either.”
“I was lucky.”
“You might be lucky again. Try.”
Royce shrugged. He stepped forward and placed his hands lightly on the stone, letting his fingertips drift across the surface, searching by feel for what his eyes might not be able to see.
“This is a waste of time,” Magnus said. “This is clearly a very powerful lock and without the key there is no way to open it. I know these things. I’ve made these things. They are designed to prevent thieves like him from entering.”
“Ah,” Esrahaddon said to the dwarf, “but you underestimate Royce. He is no ordinary lock picker. I sensed it the moment I first saw him. I know he can open it.” The wizard turned to Royce, who was quickly showing signs of exasperation. “Stop trying to open it and just open it. Don’t think about it. Just do it.”
“Do what?” he asked, irritated. “If I knew how, don’t you think I would have opened it by now?”
“That’s just it; don’t think. Stop being a thief. Just open the door.”
Royce glared at the wizard. “Fine,” he said as he pushed his palm against the stone wall and pulled it back with a look of shock on his face.