“How can humans be so cruel?” Britt said picking up the jar. “How is it possible that it is still alive?”
“The fluid is a preservative,” Balon said. “It leaves something in suspended animation until it is released. Even if over a hundred years had passed, the cat would be the same age as when it was put in the jar.”
“Why would Joban do this?”
“Maybe he needed the cat alive to study. I have known wizards who would remove parts from an animal and then would keep them alive in the fluid. The poor creatures would writhe in agony, welcoming for death to come. However, it never would until the wizard was completed with his studies.”
“I even respect Joban less than I did before,” Bard said. “One can only go so far.”
Balon carefully examined the jar. “This cat looks unharmed; in fact it looks satisfied and comfortable. Most likely this was a pet. He probably put it in this fluid to protect it while he was gone.”
“Joban is not coming back,” said George. “Can we just free the cat?”
“Help me with the lid,” Britt said. “It is on tight.”
George and Britt unstopped the cork lid. The liquid instantly evaporated. As soon as Britt set the jar on the ground, the cat opened its eyes and looked around. Stretching its body, it jumped out of the jar. It looked at the group of people and meowed at them. Then it turned and ran out of the door.
By the time the reached the hallway, the cat had vanished from view.
They went out into the hallway to continue on. However, Balon was not with him.
“Where did he get to?” Britt asked. They entered into the Wizard’s Chamber. Still there was no sight of Balon.
“There is a door over there?” Johanna said.
“I do not remember seeing that before,” George said.
“It probably was another secret door.” They walked through the door and found Balon looking around in amazement.
“This is Joban’s laboratory,” the magic user exclaimed. “Who would have imagined it was this big. “They were standing in a room that was fifty feet long and thirty feet wide.
“I do not think the stories about the barbarian invasion were false,” Bard said. Hanginf from the ceiling was a skeleton of a barbarian.
This room was like the workroom, with three wooden tables and a heavy stone table. A smell of incense still hung in the air.
“George! Watch what you are doing!” Britt yelled as he thief picked up a glass bottle filled with a smoky substance from the floor and trying to remove the cork.
The warning came too late as the cork popped out and there was a swooshing noise as the substance poured out of the bottle.
Bard all of a sudden had the urge to laugh, even though he found nothing funny about a thief getting into a trouble.
Starting to giggle, he thought the entire situation was funny. Soon he was bellowing with laughter, clutching his sides. He could not stop.
“George! I am going to kill you,” Britt yelled as he rolled on the floor laughing his head off. Soon the others were joining in.
“I do not even know what we are laughing at,” Johanna said.
“It is laughing gas!” Massacharamar yelled.
Drawing deep breaths, Balon managed, between bouts of laughter, yelled, “Dispel!”
Within a minute the laughter died down.
George grinned, sheeplishly and put the bottle down.
“Do not play innocent with me, George!” Britt yelled, wiping his tears. “How many times have you played that stunt? Is it three times now?”
“No,” George replied. “Just four.”
“When are you going to learn? There may be monsters lurking around! What if they heard us?”
Bard walked over to George. “Did you know that was laughing gas?”
“Yes. I am a bit of a prankster. Yet, Britt is right; if monsters had attacked us, I do not think we would have been able to fight them. I guess this will be the last time with this prank. I will have to think of something different, something safer.”
“No you are thinking, son.” Britt said. “Well, there is no harm done. Just if you find another bottle, bring it back to Antares for a gift for those foolish warriers,” he said, thinking of the ones who taunted him.
“Now that is an idea,” George said.
Now that they were composed, they looked around the room. Balon walked to a shelf that contained empty vials and bottles, which some of them were broken. “This one still has something in it.” He peered at the thick silvery liquid. It appeared to be glowing. “This is a potion of Sanctuary.”
“How does it work?” Britt asked.
“You drink it and it protects you against attacks. For example, if you are struck by a sword, you will be unharmed.”
“You should keep that, Balon,” George said. “You are the least protect person here. You, most likely will need that the most.”
“Well, I was going to give it to you, George. Maybe it will make you immune to playing practical jokes.”
A glitter by the stone table caught Bard’s eye. He bent down and picked up a silver figurine. It was in the form of barbarian wearing armor.
Britt looked at it. “I wonder if Joban made this. It is finely crafted and has to be worth two and fifty gold pieces.
Johanna looked at a pile of logs stacked in the corner of the room. “This might be worth something,” she said returning with a gold ring.
Britt looked at it and noticed gold paint was chipping of, revealing nothing more than ordinary metal. “This is worthless. However,” he added, handing the ring to Balon, “it has magical properties.”
“No it just an ordinary ring, cheaply made,” he said handing the ring back to the dwarf.
Massacharamar walked over to the wall and looked at a rack. “I believe that Joban tortured people who intruded on his privacy.” They walked over and saw the rack had chains and there were still signs of blood on the front of the rack.
George noticed a leather skin stretched against the other wall. He walked over and saw there was writing on it. However, he could not understand the symbols. “Balon, I need your help.”
Balon waved his wand at the skin. The writing became readable to everyone:

“What mysteries lie within the caverns of Kilda Alda?
Only the bravest or foolish will know!”

“We are either brave or foolish,” Bard said.
“Which one, we do not know,” Britt agreed.


Chapter Seven
Joban’s Journal

They were standing inside a room, filled with barrels.
“There must be over sixty,” Johanna said.
Balon walked over to one and looked inside. “This must be the storeroom. These contain flour.”
“This one has wheat,” George said. He tasted some and made a face. “It is still edible, but a bit stale.”
“Well, I hope we will not have to resort to eating any of this,” Britt said.
Bard saw where some flour had fallen on the floor. “I think somebody has recently been in here.” He pointed to a boot prints leading to the door.
Britt bent down and looked at it. “George, is that your print? They looks like the boots that you wear.”
“No, the prints are smaller that my foot.”
“I wonder if some monsters wear boots,” Massacharamar suggested.
With weapons drawn they searched the room. However, there was nothing in the storeroom, not even the rats, except for barrels containing wheat, flour, pickles, meat, fruit and vegetables.
“The supply room is over there,” George said looking at the map.
“These are still in good shape,” Britt said looking through a box containing iron spikes and metal nails.”
“Joban and Stephan probably had not completed building this stronghold,” Bard said. Stone blocks lay in a corner. Wooden doors were stacked against one wall in the room. He walked over to a 200 foot long coil of rope. “This is too heavy to carry.
Johanna said, “The laborers probably suspended from this when they worked on the outside.”
The elf returned with several boards of wood. “These will help get the holes boarded up and keep the rats out.”

After covering the rat holes in the kitchen, they walked up the corridor past the store and supply rooms. Two beautifully oak doors were ahead of them.
“I should have known this would be the library,” Balon said.
George looked down at thee dust covered floor. There were those mysterious footprints again. It was as if they belonged to a female, the prints were delicately small. Maybe one person did survive the berserker attack. But who was it and what happened to him or her?
Britt ran his fingers through the dust. “This is excellent craftsmanship!” he exclaimed. Though the floor was covered in years of dust, it was like it was newly done. The floor was made of polished marble. Large blocks of the stone were uniformly laid out. The stones were all even and the lines of each block lined up perfectly.
“It must have taken years to do this,” Massacharamar said, as she looked at red gems in the center of the floor. “Look at that,” she said, pointing. “The gems are their initials!” Everybody gathered about and noticed that the gems actually read S & J.
“I notice that they both liked oak,” Bard looked at the three large tables in the east west and north wings of the library.
“Believe it or nor,” George said, when I am not thieving, my next best acivity is reading. He looked at the plush divans in the corners of the room. “I could make myself at home here,” he said running his fingers through the fleece upholstery. “It is a shame that they are as dirty as they are.”
“We can take care of that,” Johanna said. Within a few minutes, all the dust, dirt and grime were gone. The room looked like it was built just the day before.
“Now this is living,” the thief said as he jumped onto the divan and lay on his back. “Give me a good book and I will be happy.”
“Wait a mnute,” Balon said. “Where is all this light coming from?” The rooms that they had previously explored were outside rooms. Light came in either through windows or cracks in the walls. This was an inner room; there was no way the sun ray’s had penetrated this far. The light was much more than what their lanterns were giving out.
George looked at the sconce that was mounted over his head. Instead of holding a torch, it held a small cage. Similar sconces hung around all the walls of the library. Each cage gave off a red glow.
“Fire beetles,” Britt said.
“How have they survived after all these years?” Johanna said.
“Nobody knows how they live and eat. Yet they live many years,” the dwarf continued.
“Should we free them?” Massacharamar asked.
“I do not think these cages can be forced open,” Britt said. “However, it is better to leave them be. Once they are captive, they are not able to survive if they are released from their cages.”
George went over to look at some books on one of the shelfs. He picked up one and the pages fell away into dust. “It probably was not interesting anyway.”
“George,” Britt spoke suddenly and quietly, “whatever you do, do not move.”
George started to laugh. “You cannot fool me…” A hissing noise stopped his words. He turned slightly towards the noise. A giant snake was gliding towards him, eyeing his prey. Even if he wanted to run, he was not able to; he was frozen by fright, hypnotized by the beady eyes. The snake was so close that its tounge flicked out and touched George’s face.
“He is tasting me!” he whispered despartely. “He thinks I am his dinner! Please help me!”
“Keep calm, George,” Britt whispered drawing his sword. “We will save you. Both the dwarf and Bard slowly approached the snake on both sides. Massacharamar got her bow and arrow ready.
“One three,” Britt said. “One, two…”