There were four bodies, each relatively intact. They wore wrappings around their heads, leaving only their eyes exposed to the desert winds. Deep purple and brown stained each of the wrappings around the ears, the blood still somewhat damp.
Pallemi took a moment to observe the corpses. It didn’t take him long to put the pieces together: something had wracked their minds, and their bodies couldn’t stand it. They paid the price for not searching for traps. The spellthieves of Totra always played dirty, but they also weren’t always the smartest.
Pallemi stood out of his crouch. Despite the rudimentary appearance of some of his body’s components, the movement was smooth and graceful. Not a single squeak of metal. He stood before a set of massive stone doors. The door on the right was white, whiter than the brightest sands along the Coast of Graves, while the other was black as a gutaki’s ink. Pallemi never liked that expression. The creature’s ink was blood red when underwater, and the fact that it lost most of its coloration when exposed to air didn’t mean that the ink was suddenly black. “A squid’s ink” would be more apt, and he didn’t understand why the incorrect saying persisted.
He had to focus. What he knew about the other Nethysian structures that had appeared throughout Osirion after the Godsrain suggested that all the traps were inside the library, not on the door. He raised his hand, recited some familiar words, and his voice echoed. The sound immediately bounced back to him, and he knew there was magic about. He couldn’t see it exactly, but it was clear that some effect surrounded the doors.
“You’d best leave, stranger,” a voice called from the cliff overlooking the entrance. Pallemi glanced in its direction and saw the shadow of a winged figure. It resembled a lion, but the wings suggested that it was something else. The man’s face in place of that of a lion’s confirmed it.
“Hail,” Pallemi greeted the sphinx. “Are you the guardian of this library?”
“I am. As such, I’d recommend you take your leave lest you suffer the same fate as your friends,” warned the sphinx, motioning to the corpses at Pallemi’s feet.
“These are no friends of mine, guardian. In fact, I escaped their sight an hour or two back. I didn’t like the way they looked at me, so I thought it best if we parted ways.” Pallemi eyed the sphinx’s face for a moment, trying to read the guardian’s expression. It was hard to tell if he was amenable to negotiations. “Guardian, might I climb up and speak with you face to face?”
The sphinx thought for a moment before releasing an annoyed sigh. “Very well.”
Pallemi gave as much of a smile as his forged metal face allowed. He scanned the cliffside and quickly planned a route of obvious footholds and crevices before beginning his ascent. Within a minute, he was mantling the cliff and bowing to the sphinx.
“I stand before you Pallemi Rakaros, runesmith and traveler, seeking entrance into this library.”
“Sepri the All-Seer. Well met, Pallemi.”
“Like I said, I’m not with the spellthieves. In fact, the only thing I seek from the library is information.” Pallemi could feel his nervousness, so he focused on the reason for this journey to calm him. “I believe the library holds the means to replicate an ancient potion that can wake a young girl from a sleep that has lasted several weeks. I don’t plan to steal relics or bring harm to the library.” He bowed once more.
“I care not why you seek entrance,” the sphinx replied. “The library deals with fools as it sees fit. I wish simply for an exchange. These not-friends wanted nothing to do with intelligent discourse and soon fell prey to my ward.” The sphinx met Pallemi’s eyes. “If you seek entrance, you can earn it by answering a riddle.”
“Very well. I’ve always fancied a good—”
Something suddenly caught Pallemi’s attention. A crossbow bolt had embedded itself between him and Sepri, digging its way into the nearby sands. It was clear that Sepri was completely unaware of it.
The bolt was invisible.
Pallemi knew the spellthieves played dirty, so he had engraved the power of revealing sight—ichelsu—upon the back of his hand an hour ago. Pallemi could see the approaching, invisible assassins, but Sepri couldn’t. Pallemi saw something else, too: their boat. Atop the cliff, he and Sepri were sitting ducks. He watched as a catapult launched a stone toward the cliff. From the way the stone glimmered, Pallemi knew it was invisible, too. Dirty, dirty spellthieves.
Pallemi ran a finger along his arm and began tracing another rune. “Actually, I have a riddle for you, Sepri.” Pallemi was quick but precise as he continued tracing. Sepri watched him with a mix of amusement and curiosity. “What word moves that which refuses to move?” Sepri pondered for a fraction of a moment, but then the rune was ready. “Piteregrin!” Pallemi commanded as he drew his glaive.
Illustration by Firat Solhan.
The rune on his arm began to glow a brilliant green before coming alive and running up the length of his polearm. It grew as large as Sepri, then collapsed into a massive thread of countless smaller runes, each one unique. Pallemi wove them around Sepri with ease, calling upon the muscle memory from his days helping his father make fishing nets. The sphinx watched the runes surround him with stoic interest—and then the runes pulled Sepri away.
It all happened in an instant. In the next moment, Pallemi sprung to the side as the invisible stone crashed on the ground where the two had been standing just seconds before.
“One moment, Sepri,” Pallemi said with what could be read as a smirk on his face. “I have to talk with my not-friends about their bad behavior.”
There were five spellthieves rushing toward him. Despite their name, Pallemi knew they weren’t spellcasters of any kind. They relied entirely on objects to perform magic on their behalf. They were too reliant, in fact, and they didn’t know how to fight well without their “spells.” Pallemi had fought animated statues, homonculi, and even a golem once. These were but children by comparison.
While he held his glaive out, he moved a single finger off the pole and began to trace. His glaive moved in tandem with his finger, tracing the same rune. He cut the rune out of the air before him, and it affixed itself to the blade, which limned the weapon with rime.
Two spellthieves closed in. Pallemi stepped forward to meet them with a broad swipe of his glaive. The cuts across their chests were deep and began to frost over, and a pair of matching lyskel runes appeared upon then, swiftly surrounding the wounds. The spellthieves jumped back to avoid a second attack but found that the rime made their movements rigid and slow. Pallemi nodded at them both and then snapped his fingers. The runes shattered, sending a wave of frost across the spellthieves’ bodies.
Pallemi ran to make some distance between himself, the spellthieves, and Sepri. As he stepped over the frosted corpses, a plan materialized in his mind. He worked out the failure points in his head and figured the risk was worth it, then dashed to the cliff’s edge.
A third spellthief jumped toward him, but Pallemi was quick to cut him down. Again, they were children. The remaining two slowed their approach precisely as Pallemi hoped for. He lifted his thumb from his glaive, readying himself to trace once more.
“Just a little closer,” he muttered under his breath. “Hurry. I need to get off this cliff before your friends on the ship can load the catapult.”
With a yell, the spellthieves charged. Pallemi traced another rune and immediately invoked it. A familiar green light exploded around him as he worked the thread of runes around the spellthieves and pulled them toward him. Pallemi gave another nod as the runes pulled the two past him and tossed them off the cliff. He didn’t bother watching them fall. He rushed to Sepri.
“Come,” he told the sphinx. “Let’s get out of sight of that boat.”
The sphinx bellowed a hearty laugh the entire way down the cliff to the door.
“You are a clever one, runesmith,” Sepri said with a smile. “Though, your question wasn’t exactly a riddle. But no matter—I appreciate the attempt. Now, let us see if you can earn passage inside. What do you have less of the more you gather?”
Pallemi had a habit of overthinking or taking questions too literally, so he paused and let his instincts guide him. He looked at the library.
”Knowledge. The more you learn, the more you realize how little you truly know.”
Sepri nodded sagely. “I accept your answer. Please, proceed.”
Pallemi gave one last bow to Sepri, pushed open the inky black door, and rushed inside.
Continue Pallemi’s journey in the pages of Pathfinder Impossible Magic, which releases in hardcover, digital download, special edition, and sketch cover variant on July 30! Get your copy early and receive a free PDF copy of the book by subscribing today!
About the Author
Luis Loza (he/him) is the Creative Director for Pathfinder's Rules & Lore team at Paizo. He’s had a hand in many Pathfinder creations, including automatons, coatls, lore about Arcadia, and half a dozen Adventure Path volumes. He's proud of it all. Follow his antics at luisloza.com.