The Tomb of Zalvasio
A fantasy short story set on a world of strange magic.
Maulini had held many jobs in his time: sailor, pirate, stevedore, smith.
But never before a tomb robber.
Ironic: Settling down with the comely widow Lorra was supposed to make his life peaceful and ordinary. But Lorra had twelve-year-old twins, a boy and a girl.
And they dabbled in magic.
Which was why Maulini found himself here, limping down a curved tunnel in the vast catacombs beneath the ancient city of Tallyba. Ahead of him marched the girl, Sophia. Hampered by his bad leg, Maulini struggled to keep up.
The pale light of Sophia’s lamp quivered over crumbling walls of stone and mud set with bones and skulls. Untold ages of corpses lay entombed beneath the city. The dank air smelled of mold and corruption.
The girl paused and held the lamp high before an archway, where a narrow stair twisted down.
“This way, I think.”
She waited for Maulini to catch up, then descended, lithe as a young cat. Maulini followed down the uneven steps, bracing himself with one hand, careful not to touch any skulls.
His limp resulted from a broken leg, an accident at sea. The ship had no doctor, and the bone, improperly set, never fully healed. That mishap ended his pirate days. For a time, he struggled working the docks, the leg ever painful. Eventually, he became an apprentice and learned the smithy trade. On this foray into the tombs, he carried both his smith’s hammer and his old sword.
At the bottom of the steps, Sophia stopped again, peering in both directions, searching with her mind for her brother. The girl was lean, long-haired, pretty in a solemn way—much like her mother.
Maulini sighed. He did love Lorra, had even developed affection for her weird children. If only they weren’t quite so weird.
Sophia set her jaw and pointed to the left.
“Not sure?” he asked.
“Oh, I shall find him,” the girl asserted. “Even in this place, our connection is strong.”
She set off down the tunnel, a straight one and wider than the level above. Maulini shuffled after.
Certainly the twins’ mental connection was strong. When the boy, Alessio, brought the tattered parchment to the house, both of them had pored over it excitedly. The fool boy had purchased the scroll from a street conjurer, who swore it came from a cave discovered on the remote island called Alone. Supposedly, the cave contained two-thousand-year treasure, a portion of the loot amassed by the legendary pirate lord Zalvasio—he who had retired to wealth and luxury, buying himself a position in the court at Tallyba. The scroll included a spell that would open Zalvasio’s tomb with its fabulous hoard.
Of course, finding the tomb in the vast catacombs was another matter. But Alessio believed he could follow psychic emanations embedded in the parchment, use them to track down the pirate’s remains. Maulini could scarcely believe that at twelve the twins could be so gullible. The street conjurer was obviously a con artist. People had searched for the treasure of Zalvasio for centuries. Nobles of that time were buried deep underground, their tombs walled with masonry that soon blended into the dusty tunnels of the catacombs.
Lost forever. That’s what Maulini told the children. And Lorra agreed, angry that the boy had spent his paltry earnings on the parchment, money that should have helped feed the family. When Alessio argued that even a small part of the pirate’s treasure could feed the family for a year, she had forbidden further discussion.
But she had not confiscated the scroll.
So, she was frantic the next morning to discover Alessio gone. Gone to hunt for the tomb of Zalvasio, his sister admitted reluctantly after much screaming and the threat of a beating. Distraught, Lorra had begged Maulini to search for the boy.
“And how am I supposed to find him?” the smith demanded.
Mother and daughter exchanged a hard stare.
“Take Sophia with you,” Lorra said.
So, that morning, they had entered the catacombs through the courtyard of an old mortuary temple—one of many known entrances to the sprawling necropolis.
How much time had passed since then? Maulini had soon lost count of the crypts, vaults, tunnels, and cramped stairways . Sophia carried an extra flask for the lamp, but Maulini figured the oil might easily run out with them never finding the boy. Then they might wander lost in the dark until starving to death—or until some guardian spirit or monster appeared to kill them.
He pondered which fate might be worse.
Sophia turned a corner, then beckoned him on with an impatient wave. “We’re getting close, I think.”
After rounding the corner, Maulini had to admit the new corridor seemed different, the air somehow lighter, less humid. The floor sloped down, and as they descended a tingling crept over his skin. He pulled the hammer from his belt and drew the sword.
Wisps of light flowed along the walls, slowly growing brighter. Then, ahead, the light condensed into a cloud that shimmered and hovered.
The light flashed, dazzling for an instant. Sophia lurched back a step, and Maulini pointed his sword.
Before them stood a figure, tall and draped in shining robes, with a shadowy face and wearing the headpiece of an ancient lord. The thing floated above the floor and gazed at them appraisingly.
“You have come for the boy, I suppose.”
While Maulini tried to gather his wits, Sophia answered. “Yes. We seek my brother, Alessio.”
“I know his name.” The apparition sounded bored. “I am Zalvasio, whose tomb the boy violated. Follow me.”
He turned and floated directly at the wall. As he touched it, the masonry shimmered and disappeared, becoming an archway that led to another, narrower tunnel. Sophia gave Maulini a quick nod, then followed the ghost. With a grunt, the smith hurried after.
Down the narrow tunnel the weird procession moved, arriving at last at a dead end. But again as the spirit touched the wall it faded, opening onto a wide burial chamber with vaulted ceiling. Light shuddered within, bright as torches. Murals, dulled with age, adorned the ceiling and walls. In the center lay a gold sarcophagus on a marble platform. Beside the coffin stood a slim boy.
“Alessio!” Sophia ran and embraced her brother, then immediately backed away.
The boy stood stiff, face blank, the parchment clenched in his hand.
“What have you done to him?” Sophia demanded.
“He is enchanted,” the ghost replied with a yawn. “As soon you both will be.”
“Not if I can help it.” Maulini lurched forward, brandishing the hammer and sword.
“Oh, you want to fight?” The spirit of Zalvasio laughed. “That is wonderful! I have not seen a sword fight in many a day.”
“Get a weapon then.” Maulini grinned. “And we’ll see how wonderful we can make it for you.”
The ghost spread his hands. “Being merely a shade, I cannot, of course, fight you myself. But I think I can supply a worthy alternative.”
He drifted to a nearby wall, where the mural showed a monstrous, headless creature with elongated arms that ended in sword blades. When Zalvasio’s hand touched the mural, light sparked and streamed out. The light condensed into a swirling multicolored cloud. Whirling faster, the cloud took on the shape of the headless, sword-armed monster in the painting.
Maulini sucked in a breath as the thing stalked toward him, snarling from a face embedded in its chest. Luckily, the creature seemed slow. And the smith’s hammer was long enough to parry one of the blades. Even with his bad leg, Maulini might have a chance. Crouching, he backed to the widest part of the floor.
With a squealing roar the monster attacked, swinging one blade, then the other. Maulini parried, sidestepped, thrust, and dodged. It was years since he’d last fought a duel. But no time to think of that now.
To his left he glimpsed Sophia, cowering at the edge of the crypt. Near her stood Alessio, rigid and insensible, while the ghost of Zalvasio leaned on the gold sarcophagus, watching the battle with delight.
Maulini hissed, as one of the sword points sliced his forearm. He jumped back, landed on his bad leg, and almost fell. He whirled aside as the monster lunged. Spotting an opening, the smith swung the sword with all his strength. The blade cut deep into the creature’s thigh.
So deep, in fact, that it passed right through. Like cutting air.
The creature advanced, undamaged.
“Not a fair fight,” Maulini yelled, “if my weapons do no harm!”
Zalvasio smiled and offered a shrug.
Grimly, Maulini fought on, parrying and dodging as best he could. Another blow cut his shoulder, and blood dribbled down his arm.
Backed to the wall, desperate, he flung the hammer into the monster’s chest. Like the sword blade, it passed right through the ethereal form.
Groaning, Maulini leaned back on the wall and parried. Using one arm to stop a blow, he took a deep cut on his forearm.
Earlier, he had pondered whether dying at the hands of some crypt monster might be preferable to starving to death in the dark. At this moment, starving sounded preferable.
Across the chamber, he spied Sophia sliding to her knees, picking up the hammer. But instead of attacking the creature, she ran to the mural from which it had sprung. Swinging hard, she smashed the monster’s picture.
About to strike Maulini a death-blow, the thing went rigid. Sophia struck the portrait again, and the monster shuddered, ripped by a bolt of light. A third blow of the hammer shattered the painted image, and the creature disappeared in a roaring flash.
Maulini sank against the wall, staring in bewilderment as his bleeding stopped, the wounds fading to nothing.
Sophia ran to his side and helped him to his feet.
“As I suspected,” she whispered. “The magic here is delusive. It has no physical force at all, works solely by deceiving the mind.”
On the other side of the chamber, Zalvasio shook his head, displeased. “This girl-sprite is clever. And, I must say, you fought well for an old cripple. I suppose now I must let you go.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Maulini limped forward. “If you’ll just free the boy from his enchantment, we’ll be on our way and trouble you no more.”
“Oh, no,” the ghost objected. “The desecration of my tomb must not go unpunished. The boy stays.”
“Not acceptable. The boy comes with us.”
“Well,” Zalvasio chuckled. “I may not stop you from taking his body. But his mind will remain trapped here, for all his days, unless I free him, which I certainly will not.”
“You will free him.” Maulini took the hammer from the girl’s hand and raised it. “If you think your tomb’s been desecrated now, you won’t like it at all when I’m through.”
The ghost looked surprised, then laughed again. “By the three moons! You act like one of my crewmen. Were you by any chance a pirate?”
“I have sailed with the corsairs in my time.”
“I knew it!” The ghost grinned, then tapped his lips. “Well, in that case, as one pirate to another, perhaps you’d trade your claim to the boy for some of treasure … ?”
He waved at the back wall. There, the murals faded to reveal a second chamber. Its floor rumbled and slid forward, laden with chests overflowing with jewelry and gold.
Maulini gaped in astonishment, until Sophia tugged his arm. Glancing down, he saw her shake her head.
“You are right.” Maulini told her. “Thank you for the offer, my lord. But I must take the boy home safely.”
“Oh, very well. I will release him. But he must leave the scroll. I shall read it when you are gone, to reseal the tomb and ensure my sleep is not disturbed again.”
Leaning over, he plucked the scroll from the boy’s hand, then spoke into his ear.
“Awake, young man, and be free. But remember this as a lesson: Do not go robbing tombs again—at least until you’re older and more capable.”
Alessio blinked, trembled. He looked into the ghosts face, then ran to embrace his sister.
“Thank you, my lord,” Maulini bowed. “You are a credit to the Corsairs Guild.”
“You have a guild in your day? How interesting! I would love to talk with you more and exchange tales, but my energy to manifest in this world is limited, and you have already used up so much.”
He waved them away with an impatient gesture.
Maulini bowed again and ushered the children out through the opening where they had entered.
“Oh, wait,” the ghost called. He tossed a bracelet, which clattered as it struck the floor. “You may as well take a bit of treasure with you, to remember me by.”
Startled, Maulini picked up the trinket, examined it, then stuffed it in his shirt. He bowed yet again before backing away.
Hurrying down the tunnel, he heard Zalvasio chanting verses from the scroll, and then the rumble of the walls closing behind them.
In the outer corridor, Alessio stopped to hug his sister. Then, to Maulini’s surprise, the boy hugged him as well.
“Thank you for rescuing me. Your sword fight was amazing! I could see and hear everything, I just could not move.”
“That’s all right,” the smith patted the boy’s shoulder.
He glanced up the corridor, then at the lamp. “I just hope we can find our way out of here before the oil runs out.”
“Oh, that won’t be a problem,” Sophia assured him. “If I concentrate, I can see the light from when we came down, in my mind’s eye.”
“Ha! A nice trick. But I hope you two have learned a lesson from all this, and you’ll be more careful with this foolish magic.”
“Excellent point.” Sophia peered hard at her brother.
“Oh, I agree.” Alessio smiled. “Still, we did acquire a bit of loot. Let’s have a look at that bracelet!”
Shaking his head, Maulini pulled it from his shirt. Valuable no doubt: engraved gold set with rubies.
But even as he held it, the bracelet sizzled and vanished.
From behind the wall came the faint laughter of Zalvasio’s ghost.
“Well, no matter.” Sophia wrapped an arm around her brother’s arm and then Maulini’s. “Our family’s together again. That is the true treasure!”
Dedication: To the memory of my step-grandfather, Morris Krinsky, who resembled Maulini in more ways than one.
This story was written in response to Prompt Quest #1 by Brian Rendell, over at the Lunar Awards.
'Mother and daughter exchanged a hard stare.
“Take Sophia with you,” Lorra said.'
The whole story felt polished, professional, good pacing, good visuals, etc. - but those two lines above seem to me like expert craft. It gave me an immediate picture of their relationship, in few words (appropriate, since their relationship isn't the story focus). It shows that Laura, though she's a loving parent, is also a stern one. It shows how Sophia conspires with her brother, and regularly enough that their mother has long-ago caught on to their games.
I could be over-analyzing. There were many places of good dialogue and description, and I like how you put the treasure-family conflict at the center. Those lines, however, stuck out most for me. Thanks for a fun read, Jack.
Someone should include this sentence in classrooms and create a whole discussion around it: "Do not go robbing tombs again—at least until you’re older and more capable." Thanks for sharing this, Jack-