Miasmora & Wisric's Grand Meridellian Misadventure

     -Caelric

     Miasmora read the decoded message a third time. A fourth.

     "This sounds really bad," she said, finally passing it back to Wisric, who looked exhausted from the hours they'd spent trying and failing to break the cypher. It wasn't until he'd thought to work backwards that it had started to come together, but there were still bumps along the way, and he wasn't entirely confident in the result.

     "I wish he'd been more specific," Wisric said, scanning the text again himself. "If he'd just said it was Isoldeia, and that the king had sent her down into those chambers... Not even King Skarl could argue with proof in Caelric's own hand."

     "Wait. The thing you discovered that got you kicked out of the castle was about Isoldeia?"

     Wisric nodded.

     "Why didn't we just ask her about it?"

     "Ghost Neopets never remember how they became Ghost Neopets. And sometimes, if they're reminded somehow..." He shuddered.

     Miasmora had about a billion other questions too, like why solving the mystery of the Scorchio princess's fate would have cost Wisric his post in the castle library, or why someone would have led him to that information, or how any of this had anything to do with her--

     No, she knew how it had anything to do with her. She'd chosen this.

     It had taken her the long, frustrating hours trying to help Wisric decode the note for her to realise that she definitely was not going anywhere. She was going to see this through to the end. Wisric was still an insufferable know-it-all, but she'd realized she liked that about him.

     And with the castle architect's word still reverberating through her head, she was becoming more certain that Wisric did, in fact, need her.

     He could have Kissed the Mortogs. He eventually would have figured out the key to the cypher was a faerie tale, too, she was sure. He could have muddled his way through the conversations with Prince Xandrius and Princess Isoldeia--probably. She hoped.

     But she had the sneaking suspicion that the rest of their journey was going to take them into danger much more physical than the threat of discovery they'd faced so far. She'd glimpsed one of the terrible things beneath the castle, that near-Invisible Grarrl that had followed them up the stairs.

     Another sheet of paper nearby was covered with the decoded annotations--directions, it seemed like, though they hadn't been able to figure out where the directions were meant to start from--from the drawing on Wisric's half of the torn Old Paper they'd found in the Rubbish Dump that morning.

     That morning. It seemed like an eternity ago.

     It was probably dark outside, Miasmora realised. There were no windows in the castle library, just a few rusted wall sconces, and a chandelier with half-burnt candles hanging from the middle of the room (she thought it was quite reckless of whoever had designed this room to hang a chandelier over books, the most flammable things in all of Neopia, but she was no architect).

     "We need a plan," she said. "And maybe some sleep."

     Wisric nodded. "Sleep would be good."

     ***

     Rather than risk leaving the castle overnight and not being able to find a way back in, Wisric and Miasmora returned to the royal apartment that had once been Isoldeia's. Xandrius had already fallen asleep in the canopy bed, an open history book beside him. Miasmora called for Isoldeia a few times as she set about making one of the couches up into a makeshift bed for herself out of spare clothes she found in a wardrobe, but the Ghost Scorchio did not appear.

     "Does something feel--off to you?" she asked Wisric, who was likewise making his own makeshift bed on the smaller couch.

     "Off?" he asked.

     "Yeah, like--where's Isoldeia?"

     "Probably better that she's not here. There's no telling how she'd react to questions about how she became a Ghost."

     Miasmora shook her head. "I wasn't going to after what you said earlier. I do listen, you know. But it would have been nice to know if she could tell us where to start searching from, or what might be down there we're not ready for, or--" Miasmora swept a glance over the apartment's various rooms, trying to pinpoint the source of her unease. The rooms were a little chilly, but she expected that it was normal for a stone castle once the sun went down. Were the lights flickering oddly, perhaps? She watched them a moment, then shook her head again. "I don't know, something just seems wrong."

     "That doesn't make any sense," Wisric said.

     "You're probably right," Miasmora said. But still she studied the apartment, looking for anything that might have changed from earlier. Xandrius was sleeping, Isoldeia was nowhere to be seen, but everything else looked exactly as she'd remembered it and--

     Miasmora froze.

     "Wisric," she whispered. "I know what feels wrong."

     He turned toward her, annoyance flashing in his eyes. "Yes?"

     "You know that feeling you get when you're being watched?" It shouldn't have surprised her that the Spotted Ixi of all Neopets seemed to have no patience for superstition.

     Wisric shrugged. "Who would be watching us?"

     Isoldeia, Miasmora thought, but Wisric was right. That didn't make any sense. And she was pretty sure that if that Grarrl--or anything else that was lurking down in the depths--could reach the upper levels of Meridell Castle, all of Neopia would have known about it a long time ago.

     She tried to let the feeling slide off her as she settled down into her makeshift nest of brocade dresses and fine cloaks, but the night passed uneasily--every few hours, Miasmora woke herself, convinced that someone else was in the apartment with them.

     When morning came, she was no less tired than the work decoding the Old Paper had left her the night before. Wisric seemed well-rested though, as he stretched and wiped the sleep from his eyes. His clothes were quite rumpled (Miasmora was sure hers were too, but no one they passed in the halls was likely to wonder why a Swamp Gas Skeith had rumpled clothes), but his eyes were bright, and there was an excited energy about him that was almost--almost--contagious.

     "I think I figured out where to start from while I was sleeping," he said as soon as he realized she was also awake.

     "While you were sleeping?" Miasmora asked, raising an eyebrow.

     "You know, lucid dreaming? You can solve problems while you're-- Never mind. There's a cistern buried under the west side of the castle. It probably would have been one of the first things they built. Can't have Neopets living in the castle without access to water if someone came and attacked. The grate to get in from the outside is mostly buried now--there's no way we're getting in that way without someone noticing the digging--but I think there's a way to get into it from inside, near the kitchens."

     Miasmora did her best to unrumple her clothes. "There's something else we need to do first." What she really wanted was a chance to run home for her own equipment, but that require getting back into the castle again, so her backup plan would have to do. "Can you get us into the armory?"

     For a moment Wisric, stared at her like she'd grown a couple of extra heads. "Absolutely not," he said. "That place is more locked down than the Royal Wing."

     "We can't go down there unarmed. You saw that Grarrl."

     Wisric thought for a moment. "Okay, I--"

     "Have an idea. Yeah. Spit it out."

     "It's not going to be the most reliable option. Her concoctions are...a little unpredictable."

     "You want me to go down there armed with Kayla's potions?"

     Wisric grimaced. "Do you have a better idea?"

     Going home and getting her own equipment, Miasmora thought, but she was overcome by the terrible certainty that if they took any more time preparing than they already had, whatever was down there would prepare for them. She suddenly regretted the hours she spent sleeping--she was sure that whatever had been watching them last night (and whatever Wisric thought about superstition, she was growing more and more certain that feeling had not been in her imagination--it had been very, very real) was already very well aware that they were coming.

     "No," Miasmora admitted. "But how are we going to pay for any of that?"

     "Kayla owes me for some books," Wisric replied casually. "Not a lot, so don't get your hopes up. It was my retirement plan, so to speak."

     "Wait. So if you cash that in for a couple of potions, then--"

     "Flat broke. If I don't get my job back after this, I'll be rubbish diving with you for real."

     "Are you sure you want to do this?"

     Wisric nodded and pushed out into the hallway.

     Miasmora followed him.

     Half an hour later, armed with a Jumbleberry Potion, which she was pretty sure was more likely to do harm than good, and a couple of Glowing Pebble Potions, Miasmora stood with Wisric at the top of another daunting flight of stairs into the darkness beneath Meridell Castle.

To be continued…