Archive of Our Own

“We call them the Unknowing, yet they invent the most brilliant of contraptions.”

Iguin squatted in front of Qifrey, peering down at him through the metal grille. The water witch clung to its rusted bars to keep afloat in the waterhole below. The pool ran deep, a black-turquoise treasure hidden in an underground cave. A single glowlamp dangled from the stone ceiling, burning like a sun in the cavern’s gloom.

“Word says that this pool was used by warlords in the days of yore to hold their most important prisoners.” Iguin tapped his nails against the grille to an idle rhythm. “They kept witches here too. They were thrown in naked to make sure that they weren’t caring any ink. If they had tattoos, those were flayed from their bodies.”

Qifrey shivered, his skirt swishing in the chilly water. The only thing that kept him from drowning was also the same thing that kept him from escape. He’d been hanging onto the grille for a full day, the time kept by the wane of feeble light beaming from the pool’s bottom. It came from a small tunnel, the mouth of which was situated dead center in the pool floor. How light was coming from below, Qifrey wasn’t sure. Another mystery to add to the water’s depths.

“So you vanished your atelier from its hill,” Iguin said, “but it doesn’t matter. I can still find her.” His huge eye stared at Qifrey as if trying to pry the secret from his mind.

Over the last year, Coco had grown into a skilled and tenacious which; she was also growing more and more disillusioned with magic and the Pointed Caps’ strict code. Qifrey could see Iguin’s plan unfurling with each passing day. When he spotted the Brimhat in the hills surrounding the atelier, he knew it was time for him and his family to disappear. Coco wouldn’t have received the happy education she deserved in the Great Hall, so instead Qifrey worked on a way to warp the atelier to a new location, one even more isolated and rugged than the Naakiwan Downs. He surrounded the house with a huge seal, an altered version of the standard windowway. Considering he was warping a house and not a body, it didn’t count as teleportation, or at least not in a forbidden sense. Even if it had counted, he wouldn’t have cared. Coco and the others would be safe.

Of course, the flaw in his plan was that someone had to remain outside the house to connect the ring. He finished the seal not a moment too soon because Iguin appeared on the horizon like some sort of one-eyed bloodhound. It had been raining, and the atelier faded into the drizzle just as the Brimhat arrived on the scene. He didn’t believe Qifrey when the water witch said he’d never find them.

The most punishing fight of Qifrey’s life had ensued. At some point, he passed out from Iguin’s assault; later, he awoke violently when he was tossed into the pool.

“I bet you left your Watchful Eye in charge,” Iguin continued. “But now that you’ve sent them off, not even he will be able to find and save you.”

Qifrey gave him his best glare, but even he knew it fell pathetically short of threatening. “Y-Yourrr plaan…” he slurred. “Will n-never b-beee…”

“I can’t see you stopping me. You don’t even have the scantest idea of where I’ve taken you.” Iguin’s voice was smooth, dark, velveteen. “You’re far away now. No one can rescue you.”

Iguin had gloated a few times about how he’d relocated Qifrey with ease. The water witch guessed that this dungeon was far from the Downs, maybe even on the other side of the peninsula. The cave itself also had its mysteries; when Qifrey tried to look beyond the grille, he couldn’t see any exits or tunnels leading out of the space. It was possible that no standard exit even existed. Iguin always teleported his way onto the grille; and if the contraption had been built in the days of yore, the cave could have doors that functioned in manners beyond Qifrey’s imagination.

Iguin dropped a few pieces of bread into the water. Qifrey grabbed and ate them, feeling like a kept goose. He did his best to chew with his stiff clamp of a jaw. Iguin watched with amusement. “Coco is such a sweet, bright girl. You’ve done an excellent job of raising her for me. All you have to do now is let her achieve her true potential.”

“I…w-wouuuld diee…be-fore…betrayiinngg my aatel-lier.”

Iguin chuckled. “Now, we both know that’s a lie. What about Olruggio of the Torch?”

Qifrey looked away. His guilty reflection admonished him from the pool’s dark surface.

“You’ve turned your back on him, but that good, honest man is probably looking for you.” Iguin tilted his head as if in thought. “It’ll be too bad if we accidentally run into each other.” Iguin pulled something white and pointy out of his cloak—Qifrey’s cap. He pulled the pin to reveal the memory seal.

A chill that had nothing to do with the water ran through Qifrey. He shook his head at Iguin, silently begging him.

“I know you love him,” Iguin said soothingly. “He doesn’t need to know. Just tell me where she is.”

Qifrey’s heart squeezed. He slumped as far back into the water as he could go.

Iguin leaned closer. Only the grille was keeping them apart. Gravity swung open his bead curtain. His smile was small, white, and beastly. “You sacrifice so much to try to thwart me, but in the end, you’re just a weak little child swimming in a bigger coffin.”

For good measure, Iguin grabbed the glowlamp and, unleashing its spare foot of chain, lowered it to a short distance above the grille. It practically bounced against the bars. He kept it lit at all times, knowing that it exacerbated his prisoner.

“You can save him anytime,” said Iguin. “I’m a patient man.”

He looked at Qifrey’s pale skin and blue lips. “But maybe you’re not so patient. You can’t afford to be.”

With that, he stood and left, his footsteps echoing in the cavern.

Qifrey blinked wearily, but he didn’t dare close his eyes. If only he could manage to escape. When Iguin was away, Qifrey had spent his time diving, trying to reach the strange tunnel and its tendrils of light. Though he always ran out of air before reaching the bottom, he would get close enough to see the shadowy form of a fixed portcullis barring the tunnel.

Light meant sun, and sun meant surface. But first he would have to swim through a lifetime of water and then somehow get through the portcullis. And then there had to be more water after that. It seemed an impossible route.

Gathering his energy, Qifrey hauled himself closer to the grille, peering through it and into the surrounding cave. Unfortunately, the stone floor was bare of everything except for the cable grind to open and close the prison, plus Qifrey’s cloak, glasses, and shoes. Iguin had left them just out of arm’s reach. Even when stretching his arm to a near pop of the shoulder, his items remained a fingertip away.

Qifrey’s arms began to weaken. With a groan, he dropped back into the water, sending ripples across its surface.

Good thing that neither the atelier nor any of its residents could be found via guidance orb. Qifrey had ensured that none of their belongings had been left hanging around to fall into the wrong hands. He had even given Olruggio back his long tassel, receiving his own in return. When preparing their escape, Qifrey had planned to reach them quickly by drawing a windowway home on a spare sheet of cloth. He just hadn’t counted on Iguin prowling up at the last moment.

Now that a day had passed, his atelier must be consumed with worry. He could imagine Olruggio pacing and swearing and going as gray as a ghost. Hopefully the fire witch hadn’t gone out to look for him like Iguin had suggested.

Qifrey let his head fall back, too tired to hold it up, but then he winced as he looked into the radiant face of the glowlamp. His body had also ceased its wracking shivers some time ago. His condition had entered a danger zone.

Qifrey knew he should be panicking, but any sense of agitation bled into the water. His heart continued is sluggish pace in his chest. Even his thoughts moved slowly. He peered down into the water. It would be so easy to let go and settle into this gentle death. Then Iguin definitely wouldn’t be able to find the atelier.

The glowlamp creaked on its chain, and he heard the faint crackle of weakening stone. A crumb of shale even flaked from the ceiling and landed on his face. Qifrey repositioned himself and looked up; a network of cracks zigzagged away from where the lamp’s metal anchor was buried in the ceiling. The installation was a rusted relic. Things were finally coming loose.

Qifrey squinted through the light. Maybe he could get rid of the lamp by ripping it out. Then he could relax a little or even use it to illuminate the depths. Reaching up through the grille, he managed to snag the contraption’s neck. Grunting, he curled himself as high out of the water as he could possibly go. Slowly, steadily, he heard the crunching of stone, his weight pulling the anchor from its place. Just as he thought his arms would give way, it ripped out of the ceiling with a mighty crunch. Qifrey dropped back into the water as a huge T-bar and screw struck the grille. The clang of metal on metal burst throughout the cavern.

Qifrey winced, his ears ringing as if he’d been dealt a blow. Chips of shale rained on his head and splashed into the pool. The glowlamp, still lit, was now sinking into the water. Only the caught T-bar and chain kept it from disappearing to the pool bottom.

Qifrey examined the anchor. It looked big and heavy enough to bludgeon someone in the head. A new idea hatched to life inside of his brain. A crazy, infernal idea that sent fear crawling through every inch of him. Yet buried in all of that anxiety was a bud of hope.

This T-bar would sink to the pool’s bottom in a heartbeat. If he hung onto the chain, he would get a strain-free ride into the depths. He had never been able to reach the pool’s bottom or the mysterious portcullis. If he got to the bottom, he might even be able to see what was beyond…

He glanced down into the water. The portcullis was right below him, pale tendrils of light trickling through its gate. It was a straight drop to freedom. Maybe. If he wasn’t about to drown himself. He rattled the chain attached to the anchor, causing it to bang around. While the top of the T-bar had caught on the grille, a little finagling would have it slipping free.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to quell the sick turn of his stomach. If his plan worked, he imagined he’d never fear water again.  He grabbed the T-bar. And then he took the greatest, deepest breath he’d ever taken in his life.

Only one chance.

Only one way out.

He shook the chain. The T-bar splashed into the pool and plummeted into the depths.

Its powerful weight yanked Qifrey from his grip on the grille and dragged him through the water. The shock of it ripped some of the air from his lungs, and a stream of bubbles escaped him before he could regain self-control. The walls of the pool blurred by, the pressure in his ears mounting, popping. His dress streamed behind him. Qifrey realized he should’ve taken it off, but it was too late now. He was nearing the bottom—and the source of light.

The lamp crashed into the portcullis. Its iron had been decimated from its years underwater, and so the T-bar rammed through it like a cannonball. Qifrey let go just in time before he was pulled through and shredded on the broken metal. His chest felt tight, squeezing his burning lungs. Qifrey squirreled his way the best he could through the jagged opening, not caring as he cut his arms and ripped his clothes.

He came into a channel. It snaked its way upwards in a sharp U-bend. Light rippled and wavered across its walls. He didn’t know where it led. He only prayed that it was the way to freedom.

It was a good thing that Olruggio had forced him to practice swimming when they’d been younger, or else Qifrey would have been a dead man. He kicked wildly, thrashing to and fro, forgetting every bit of technique he’d learned as he fought for survival. But no one was around to watch him flail—especially not Iguin—and he was bent on keeping it that way.

He sped through the channel and arrived into an even larger pool. Weak light filtered down from above. His lungs felt ready to burst into flames. His vision was blurring at the edges—and it wasn’t simply because he was underwater. Desperation powered Qifrey’s usually timid strokes. The surface was only so far away—

He burst through the top with a huge, wrenching gasp. The cool air entering his lungs felt like one of the world’s greatest blessings. He floundered, trying not to sink back the way he came out from sheer fatigue. Pale sunlight washed over him. Bringing warmth. Bringing life.

Qifrey paddled to the edge and collapsed on the rocky shoreline. Pale, blue, and bleeding, he was surely a sight. He curled into a waterlogged ball on the rocks. He knew that he should get up and start running for his life, but he only wanted to lie in the sun and fall asleep.

A cold wind skimmed over him, making him flinch. He didn’t have much time. Gathering himself, he blinked the water from his eyes and craned his head up to see where Iguin had taken him.

The golden expanse of the Naakiwan Downs spread before him, the hills rolling into the horizon. The sun was sinking into its gleaming cradle of a valley, burnishing its corner of the sky into a yellow-bronze. A familiar wind blustered by him, ringing droplets from his hair.

“By the gods…” Qifrey whispered.

It made sense. Iguin hadn’t uncovered the full secrets of magic. He probably had limitations on teleportation, like how far he could take another person along for the ride. Of course he’d just make Qifrey think he’d been whisked far away; it was a good way to break anyone’s spirit.

Astoundingly, Qifrey could even see the hill his atelier had once stood upon. The dome was a small, awkward thing, not nearly as smooth and perfect as its neighbors yet beautiful all the same. Though he could recognize it from anywhere, he was sure that it was his because of the giant seal painted on its crest—the seal he’d used to whisk away the house.

Tears sprang into Qifrey’s eye. If he could reach that seal, he could uproot some of the ink-stained earth and draw the windowway he needed to return home. For the first time in his entire ordeal, he felt a true surge of hope.

He cast a last glance behind him. A wind-beaten castle loomed overhead on a rocky perch, lightning cracks branching through its ancient walls. Apparently, Qifrey had just escaped from its dungeon. He had in fact seen this castle from his atelier many times; he’d even once toured its empty halls with the girls, never knowing the nightmare of a prison cell underneath.

Crawling onto his hands and knees was a herculean effort, but it was too early to die. If I make it back home, he thought, I’ll never leave the house again.

The water witch set on the quickest path back to the hill. The setting sun lit the way, throwing the day’s last light over him and the grassy landscape. However, any warmth it brought was cut down by gusty winds. Qifrey was well and truly freezing now. He wrapped his arms around himself and scanned the darkening sky, praying that Iguin had left for the night and wasn’t around to catch him. The Downs was made of hills and wind, hardly any trees or shrubbery for cover. He was utterly exposed to the elements and to anyone flying overhead, someone like a dangerous Brimhat.

Just as he was on his way, an eerie, familiar voice said, “Going somewhere?”

Qifrey froze. He turned.

Iguin stood right behind him, the wind whipping up his cape and ruffling his collar of crow feathers. His mask was cruel and impassionate.

Qifrey stumbled backwards and hit the ground. His tired heart pounded like a jackhammer. Iguin prowled forward, hovering over him like a shadow come to life. Thick, inky liquid dripped from his body and into the soil, bubbling and steaming. “It’ll be a fun game to see how far you can run.”

Some of the liquid spooled onto Qifrey in long, black dribbles. Qifrey stared, fixated as it boiled on his skin. He couldn’t feel anything. He was either wildly numb…or…

Ink dribbled out of Iguin’s mouth. His teeth were stained black. “When the days of yore are restored, I am coming for you first.”

Qifrey shook his head. Once forbidden magic again became the way of the world, he was sure that Iguin wouldn’t have any interest in him. Qifrey croaked, “Y-you’re not real.” The cold had taken a toll on his mind.

The Brimhat laughed. “I’ll haunt you forever either way.”

Qifrey shuddered. He climbed to his feet and resumed walking.

He dragged himself up the first hill. Never in his life had he hated walking so much. Getting to the top generated little satisfaction for he could only see more hills. One hill beyond another and another. Qifrey cursed himself for choosing to live in such a place.

The apparition hunted him across the slopes. “I have so many things planned. Things that would make that coffin seem like a joke…”

“Sh-shhuutt…u-uhh…up….” Qifrey said.

“You’ll wish you gave up in that pool. Then Coco wouldn’t have to see you die.”

Every so often Iguin went silent, prompting Qifrey to turn around. Sometimes the Brimhat had vanished. Sometimes he lurked in the distance, a patient predator. At other times, he dripped and dribbled, and on others he looked as solid as any man. Sometimes he was right at Qifrey’s ear.

“You don’t have to be so worried about giving Coco away to me. We both want the same thing for her—happiness.”

“Pre-p-posteroousss.” Qifrey knew he shouldn’t respond, but the idea of manipulating a child for their own happiness was too ridiculous. He pushed onwards, straining to see in the deepening night.

“She can’t rescue her mother without me. You’re holding her back since you prioritize your grudge above all else. Everyone can see it. It’s written on your face.” Iguin tapped his mask, its eyeball somehow shining through the darkness.

Qifrey looked away. “Y-You’re wr-wronnggg…”

“You’re...” Iguin hissed with pleasure, “…lying.”

Qifrey plunged onwards. A deep and empty iciness pervaded his body. Hugging himself wasn’t any help when he had no warmth to contain; it didn’t even make him feel better. He barely registered the sharp rocks underfoot even as he left behind spots of blood. And when he tried to descend the next slope his legs gave out, sending him tumbling in a mess of limbs and grass and dust.

“You did yourself in long before this with that cap of yours. The truth will come out sooner or later,” Iguin said. “And Olruggio will leave you like the sham you are.”

Qifrey lay in a heap, trying to manage the sickening spin of the world. As the vertigo slowed, Iguin’s lurid eye peeked over the top of the hill. “Olruggio deserves better. Both you and I know it.”

“Olly, I’m s-sorry! I’m so sorry…” Qifrey sobbed in a tiny voice. Curling up, he buried his face in his hands. He wanted to cry, but exhaustion had dried up all his tears.

Iguin stalked down the slope. “Get up. You need to apologize to him in person.”

Qifrey nodded numbly. He would never hurt Olruggio again.

Stars budded one by one, shining with sharp, heartless light. Qifrey pushed onwards. He alternated between feeling the throb of his beaten body, desperate cold, and nothing at all. He tried to heave for air but could only manage short, shallow gasping. Only the thought of seeing his family—their shining faces—pushed him over each hill. He couldn’t let them down. He couldn’t make them cry.

“That’s it…” Iguin said as he followed. “One step at a time.” He hadn’t given Qifrey the luxury of disappearing for a while, preferring to plod after him like a malignant ghost. Qifrey knew his condition was worsening because the hallucination was growing more vivid. He could hear the thump of Iguin’s footfalls and the slide of dirt as he skidded down a steep decline.

“Isn’t it beautiful tonight?” Iguin said, turning his masked face to the stars. “If you make it, you can enjoy a night like this at least one more time.”

Finally, Qifrey could go no further. He collapsed on a hillcrest, quaking.

Iguin’s boots stopped in front of Qifrey’s face. “Amazing. You made it.”

The vegetation smelled strangely brackish. In the moonlight, Qifrey could see a long strip of ink arching its way around the crest. He’d reached the hill—his hill—and the ink he needed to return home. His chest squeezed, a sob catching and dying in his throat, but he couldn’t shed a single tear.

Iguin prowled around him, grass crunching. “Don’t give up now. What are you waiting for?”

Summoning the last of his energy, Qifrey dragged himself back onto his hands and knees. He uprooted segments of grass and earth and began to align them into signs. He made the symbols bold and wide; the seal needed to match the size of the windowway inside the atelier, a circular entrance big enough to walk through. Though blinded by fatigue, he moved on autopilot. It was succeed or die at the foot of his enemy.

“Yes…” Iguin said, the word churning with excitement. He stood back and watched Qifrey set the patterns.

Qifrey’s hands, shoulders, and legs were shaking as he arranged the last patches of ink. The seal glowed, and then the earth opened way. The water witch peered down through the hilltop and into the atelier’s long, inviting hall. Its warmth and light hit him in the face.

Because the seal had been drawn on the ground, the floor and hallway ran at a 90-degree wonderland angle. But the home was undeniably his own. He could even hear the sounds of his family inside: soft footfalls, the high voices of the girls. It was all too wonderful to believe.

“I must say that I’m impressed.” Iguin kneeled beside him. “Go on. You’ve earned it.”

He clapped a hand on Qifrey’s shoulder and squeezed. His grip was hard, heavy, and so very real.

Qifrey’s heart stopped. He turned and looked—really looked—at the Brimhat.

“No?” With the same hand, Iguin fisted the front of Qifrey’s shirt, yanking him off the ground. Then he threw the water witch through the doorway.

Qifrey’s stomach flipped as the arc of his flight defied physics; he went down into the portal and then smacked onto the floor.

He rolled his limp body over and, with dawning horror, watched Iguin step into the atelier. The Brimhat crossed the threshold with ease, utterly at home with the bizarre flip in orientation. He glanced around. “What a cozy place.”

Qifrey’s initial horror magnified ten-fold, shooting him in the heart like a cold arrow. He tried to say something, anything, but all he could do was cling to consciousness. Exhaustion was sucking him into its deep pit. He couldn’t even flinch as the Brimhat stroked him on the head like he was a pet. “Thank you for leading me here. I would never have found this place if you hadn’t been so determined.”

The sound of footsteps. A girl’s soft voice. “Is someone there? Master Qifrey?”

Coco… Qifrey thought as he slipped away. Coco, run…

“One last thing before I go,” said Iguin. The Brimhat once again pulled Qifrey’s white cap out of his cloak, the triangular seal undone. He placed it in Qifrey’s hands. “I hope Olruggio forgives you…”