Chapter 125: Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Two: Mummy’s Curse

“Everybody stand back,” Sewer Bard said heroically, pushing a (very capable of walking on her own) Qube behind him. “Get to the other room and make sure to cover your ears!”

 

“But there’s nothing underneath the bandages!” Qube protested, as Definitely Bad Guy tried to hustle her into the chest room. “How does that even work?”

 

Were they some kind of bandage construct? Where, instead of stone or metal, they’d been made out of bandages? But they were hollow! Although, thinking about it, Qube realised she had no idea whether or not the constructs at Construct Crossroad were hollow. Presumably everyone was hollow to some degree, even if it was just little pockets of hollowness, otherwise where would their inner loot reside?

 

But no loot had fallen out of the bandage construct. Unless that had also been sucked up into the jar while she had been too transfixed on the whole “lack of a person under the bandages” situation to notice? Would she be able to fish the bandages out of the jar and talk to it? The remaining bandaged figures shuffling towards them were moaning, which indicated some ability to vocalise, albeit with less articulation than the other constructs she’d encountered before.

 

Qube felt like her mind was lighting up, ideas and questions sparking in every direction.

 

If she cut off a piece of one of the bandages, would a new bandaged person grow from it? Could bandages heal? Why had they been sleeping in those upright coffins? Did bandages need to sleep? Was there a bandage version of the Constructor around? Would it be okay to experiment on or fight sentient bandages? Were they even sentient? Could bandages feel pain?

 

Oh no! What if the bandage creature had felt itself being violently torn apart by the sucking jar and was now in tremendous pain on the other side of wherever the jar teleported it to?

 

She had to see if she could get the bandage construct out of the jar, and ravel it back together!

 

“Squiggles, cover my ears for the spell please,” Qube said, grabbing the now-lidded jar and sitting on the floor so the sharktopus could more easily block her hearing. She had to figure this out!

 

“I’m about to cast,” Sewer Bard called out to the group.

 

Qube looked up as she felt her pet’s tentacles press against her ears, and saw, rather than heard, Sewer Bard cast his spell. Undistracted by the actual sound, she noticed for the first time that the mana he was using wasn’t just its normal bright green. Instead it was shot through with a deep red, the same colour as Definitely Bad Guy’s eyes when he was examining things. The Bard’s fingers danced over the lute strings, and the mana throbbed in response.

 

Looking at it made Qube feel deeply uneasy. Something about the combination of red and green was a bit like looking at an infected wound. Not that Qube had ever seen an infected wound — she’d always [Lesser Heal]ed any injury before it had the chance to get infected — but it was the first comparison that popped into her mind.

 

Her fingers, working independently of her mind, popped the lid off the jar. Qube’s attention was thus suddenly and quite rudely drawn back to the task at hand by the jar trying to suck her hands into it. 

 

Wrestling control of the jam jar, Qube pulled her hand free, only to try and carefully insert it back into the jar. It was hard to stay steady against the force pulling at her, but she was determined that if she was going to be shoving her hand into something, it would be at her own pace!

 

But there was nothing at the bottom of the clear jar. Whatever spell or rune was inlaid within the glassware failed to teleport Qube’s hand. Instead her fingers pressed against nothing more magical than smooth glass. Which, while impressive in the “wow society sure has invented some amazing things” sense, was not particularly impressive to someone trying to teleport their appendage. 

 

Feeling around the bottom of the jar, Qube was still having to fight against the jar’s magical spell attempting to pull her arm off. Yanking herself free, Qube was forced to do something she hated: admit she had no idea how this thing worked. Carefully putting the jar back on the ground, she held the lid over it and waited. After a few seconds, the jar stopped trying to eat the world and went still. She popped the lid back on, but that slight movement didn’t set it off again.

 

Was it some kind of safety feature? So if you dropped the jar, it wouldn’t suck forever? Really, the Temples thought of everything!

 

Squiggles’s tentacle tips fell away from her ears, only to be replaced with all eight limbs as Squiggles hugged Qube.

 

“Thank you, Squiggles,” Qube said, her voice muffled from the enthusiastic hug. Prying the excited sharktopus away from her face, she saw that the room of bandage constructs had stopped approaching. Instead they were all swaying in place, humming a tune. It sounded similar to the brief snatch of music that Qube had heard of [The Bard’s Ballard].

Similar to the beetles, the change in behaviour seemed to spread, as the further away bandage constructs reached their closer brethren and suddenly stopped. They, too, started to sway and hum.

 

“Are they… infecting each other?” Qube asked, watching as very faint traces of green and red mana passed between the creatures.

 

“That is part of the spell,” Definitely Bad Guy said, with what Qube charitably decided to call pride, rather than smugness. A part of her was dying to ask more about what the spell actually did, but politeness held her tongue.

 

Oh, what she wouldn’t give to have the Chosen One here right now! His lack of social skills were just so useful, sometimes.

 

“Will it affect us?” she managed. Sewer Bard and Definitely Bad Guy shared a significant look. Qube narrowed her eyes. “Be honest,” she said warningly.

 

“No,” Definitely Bad Guy said. “I am reasonably confident that it will not affect us.”

 

“Only reasonably confident?” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady asked, anger rising in her tone. The Mage held up a finger.

 

“The reason I am reasonably confident,” he said, “is because of our innate nature. Part of my research was attempting to determine what it was about this particular party of —”

 

“Do not take too much joy in your lecture, little man,” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady purred dangerously. “Speak to the point, or lose it.”

 

Definitely Bad Guy swallowed hard as the arachnid loomed over him. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how much bigger than the rest of them the Hunter was. But when she wasn’t resting so low on her joints that her abdomen would frequently sweep the ground, she towered over the others.

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“We are different,” Definitely Bad Guy quickly summarised, “and it makes them different, so it cannot affect us.” 

 

“Wait, is this similar — are you making them special, like us?” Qube asked, not sure if she should be horrified or intrigued. Instead she settled for both, at the same time.

 

“The spell was designed to act similarly to your particular version of the [Heal] spell,” the Mage nodded at Qube, “and remove illusions and limitations. The fact that they become non-violent after being exposed to this implies that they are acting under some kind of compulsion, or misunderstanding about us that compels them to attack us. While saying it makes them special is a crude way of describing it, it is nevertheless accurate enough for a quick summary.”

 

“Is that safe?” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady asked, still with a stern edge to her words, but the building anger had leaked out of her. “The Devs, or at least that first one, seemed to think that people being special was potentially dangerous, to them and to us.”

 

“My immeasurably desirable Hunter,” Sewer Bard said, drawing all of Sexy Screamy Spider Lady’s eyes towards him. “While I understand your desire to comply with the Devs, if the alternative is us slaying these poor beasts, surely it is better to instead give them a chance to …” he hesitated, glancing at Qube, “understand more of the world? After all, it was only after our fair woman of worth [Heal]ed you that you were able to see her, and thus be freed of an illusion. Should we not also give these beings the same courtesy?”

 

“I have no desire to comply with anyone,” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady started indignantly, “I wish them to be safe, and not be controlled by others or ourselves.”

 

“The alternatives are to remain here, fettered by whatever controls them, or death. Are either of those the fate you wish them?” Sewer Bard asked. His tone was full of meaning, in a way that Qube didn’t understand. She felt like they were having a second, different conversation, using the words of the first conversation. It was very confusing.

 

She looked at Definitely Bad Guy hoping that, since his social skills were lower than hers, he would also be just as lost as her. Instead, he was carefully watching the duo, like an alchemist waiting to see how a potion reacted to a new ingredient.

 

“I do try to get people to agree to being [Heal]ed,” Qube, frustrated by her ignorance, broke into the strange double conversation. Granted, she hadn’t actually gotten consent in the majority of her cases, but she still tried!

 

“And if asking was an option, I would take it,” Sewer Bard replied immediately. “But that is not the case here.”

 

“I see your point,” Sexy Screamy Spider Lady said to Sewer Bard. “But I want to see how it affects someone we can talk to. Ask them why they’re so aggressive towards us.”

 

“There is something that could help the spell,” Definitely Bad Guy cut in. He looked at Qube. “If you would be willing to demonstrate your [Heal]ing on one of these creatures, it may assist us in fine tuning our own spell.”

 

“I don’t know…” Qube started worriedly. 

 

“Please, kind Healer,” Sewer Bard said, taking her hand. “We would not ask it of you were it not of the utmost importance. We must free these poor creatures from whatever drives them to attack.”

 

Qube looked at Squiggles, who blinked her little button eyes at her. Whether it had been fear, hunger, or some kind of compulsion that had led Squiggles to first rush at her when they’d first encountered each other, the fact remained that if she hadn’t [Heal]ed the monstrous beast rushing at her, she never would have gained such a loyal and loving pet.

 

And if there was a chance that she could do more than just avoid killing similar creatures like the Chosen One suggested, if she could instead help free more like her…

 

Well, then she had to do it. She was a Healer, after all.

 

Carefully extending a hand towards the closest bandage construct, she summoned her mana from the pool within.

 

“[Lesser Heal],” she said, and watched as her silvery magic infused itself into the creature. The potential construct reared back, stopping its humming and instead jittering in place. After a few seconds it seemed to regain its senses, and started moving its head around in what was probably the bandage equivalent of looking around.

 

Turning to the group, Qube was startled to see Definitely Bad Guy’s eyes were bright red as he examined her.

 

“Excellent,” he said, in a satisfied voice. “That should prove most useful. I can already see several aspects of the current spell which can be improved.”

 

Qube gave him a tired smile. All of a sudden she felt exhausted. It wasn’t that she had used up all her mana; it was more like all of her emotions from the past few days had suddenly demanded their price. She felt fatigue fogging her mind. When was the last time she’d slept?

 

“Did you want to take a few minutes to figure it out?” she asked the Mage, struggling not to slur her words. There were no beds here for her to sleep on. But maybe she could do what the Chosen One had, and try sleeping against a wall.

 

Sitting on the ground for the second time in the last hour, she leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes. Thoughts, ideas, fears all swirled around inside of her, each clamouring for attention that she was too tired to give.

 

Had she done the right thing? Her [Heal] only worked because of the Evil Emperor’s curse. Was she somehow spreading some of his power? What was the difference between a blessing and a curse?

 

She sank, deeper and deeper into something that was not sleep, but offered her a chance to escape her own self.

 

In that meditative state, she dreamed. 

 

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