Here's my next chapter. I know you'll have questions at the end, but don't ask them. They'll be answered in the next coming chapters.
Chapter 14: Tomb of the Captain
After everyone was awake, a quick, cold breakfast was eaten before the team got moving again. Smelly lead the way, bounding ahead of his human companions, and then waiting for them as they caught up. The Sorcerors walked at a quick pace, Davy setting the pace. He hadn’t told anyone about El Patron last night. There hadn’t been time, and telling them and answering all questions at the end would just waste vital time. He would tell them later.
They were progressively heading deeper into the mines. Not just farther in, but literally, deeper into the earth. There was no sound other than the sound of their footsteps, and the occasional drip of water. After lots of winding tunnels, the group came to a tunnel that didn’t turn, but went directly downhill.
“How deep are we going?” Meg asked with astonishment.
“Deep alright,” Dan said, nodding. “By now, we are probably below sea level.”
“Are you telling us the town is
above us?” Sharktooth asked nervously. “And there are millions of tons of rock above us, crushing down on us as we speak?”
“Yes,” Dan said plainly.
“Ow!” Zolina cried out. “A rock just hit me in the shoulder! Those millions of tons of rocks may not be too stable…”
Before Davy could comment, his eyes widened with fear. The whispers were back. There were ghosts, and quite nearby. The others heard it too, and everyone drew their weapons. The whispering was no longer a whispering, but rather a chatter, with an occasional cackle thrown in. The sound of swords unsheathing was heard.
The Sorcerors instinctively condensed their group into a little circle, each member with their sword drawn outward.
“Where are those fiends?” Davy snarled.
“Err…” Zolina said, pointing her free hand. “I think that’s what dropped that rock on my shoulder…”
Everyone followed her finger, upward at an angle to a sizable rocky ledge several meters above them. Standing on the ledge, swords drawn, was the crowd of ghosts that had attacked them earlier, and they had friends. There were at least eight more ghosts with them. The Sorcerors backed away from the ledge in fear as the ghosts leaped down and landed on the same level as the Sorcerors. They hissed and taunted the group as they advanced, thirsty for blood of the living.
“What now, Davy?” Dog asked nervously.
Davy felt himself bump into the side of the tunnel behind him. They were trapped against a wall. His sword felt heavy in his hand as he realized that he would not win this battle. But then, from beside him, he heard Sam yell out a battle cry, and he turned to see Sam charging at the crowd of ghosts. That was it. The rest of the Sorcerors charged, crying out with their swords ready. Even Pirate Guy, weak as he was, made an effort to give the ghosts a few good cuts.
Davy followed his instincts as he always did; slashing, stabbing, swashbuckling, and rolling. As he expected though, none of the ghosts went down. In fact, he thought that they seemed stronger.
It’s because they’re near El Patron, he thought to himself. He dodged the blow of a ghost and cleaved its head. The ghost crumpled to the floor, but got right back up. He smashed a ghost across the face with the flat of his blade, sending it flying to the side. That was followed by doing a low spinning kick and tripping another ghost. Davy stabbed the blade into the heart of the fallen ghost, and it screamed in agony. It got back up. He lit his sword ablaze with a green fire and gave a few good slashes to the ghosts, but they acted like the were being pricked by a little needle.
More ghosts closed in from around them, and before long, they were being assaulted by something around forty ghosts. The battle was being lost. The Sorcerors were being pressed in the center of a large crowd of ghosts, and they were closing in fast.
“Well,” Kate muttered. “It was nice knowing all of you. A good ten years its been serving under the Shadow King.”
“Its not over yet,” Davy said. “I’ve got one last straw to pull… or rather, chain to pull.”
With a loud bellow, Davy plunged his sword into the stone floor beneath them. The ghosts stopped advancing and looked at him in confusion. Suddenly, there was a massive rumbling from the floor beneath them. Massive chains sprung up from beneath ever ghost, trapping them in their tight grip. The ghosts squirmed and cried out in frustration, but it was too late. The chains had already wrapped completely around the ghosts, imprisoning them in an iron cocoon. The chains dragged the ghosts down, into the earth. Soon they were gone.
Davy gave a small smile. “Grave Shackles. That’ll take care of ‘em for a while… but they’ll be back.”
“Why didn’t you do this before?” Billy demanded. He was answered right away by Davy falling over unconscious.
~~~~~~~~~~
Davy awoke with a sore head, and a horribly empty stomach. Someone was shaking him. His vision was blurry, but it cleared up after a few seconds, revealing Billy in above him, shaking him.
“Davy, you awake brother?” he asked gently.
“Ahh,” Davy grunted, rubbing his head. “That’s why I never use Grave Shackles. Too much energy required. I’m lucky I didn’t die. What happened?”
“After you blacked out, Billy slung you over his shoulder and carried you,” Meg explained. “You’ve been out for two or so hours. We walked all the way here. We woke you up, because we thought that you should be awake for this.”
Davy groaned and sat up. They were all sitting near the base of a staircase that ascended upward. It wasn’t too long of a staircase. The stairs were cleanly cut into the stone. On the walls were carvings of battle scenes, with Spanish Conquistadors slaughtering the Aztec and Inca civilizations, as well as conquering Caribbean lands. Davy slowly stood.
“We’ve arrived at the tomb I see,” Davy said with astonishment.
“Just up the stairs,” Dan said, nodding. “Take it slow. You’re still weak.”
The group ascended the stairs. It was, as Davy had noticed, a short flight of stairs. In about a minute or so, they had reached the top, and stood at the entrance of El Patron’s tomb.
It was a massive, circular room, the walls lined with carvings similar in subject to the ones on the walls of the staircase. The ceiling was a large, stone dome, bare of any decoration. Lining the sides of the tomb were torches, long burnt out. Countless stone sarcophagi lined the sides of the tomb: the crew of El Patron. A bare path lead through the dead crew and to the front of the tomb, where a larger sarcophagus lay, made of black granite, and embedded with precious gems.
“There he is,” Davy said. He slowly made his way over to the embellished sarcophagus of El Patron. It was mounted on some sort of a stand, so that it was almost completely upright. The front was carved to look like a person, arms crossed with a large sword in one hand, and a pistol in the other. The eyes of the carving were blood-red rubies, their gaze boring in to Davy.
Davy was weak, but he had just enough energy to ignite his sword on fire once again. He held the flaming blade before him, pointing towards the sarcophagus of El Patron.
“This ends now,” Davy said. “He should still be weak enough to die from a sword stab.”
He plunged the sword into the sarcophagus, and twisted. The stone around his blazing sword bubbled and melted. Davy yanked the sword out of the sarcophagus and sheathed it.
“Is that it?” Dog asked. “No big explosion, or scream of a dying ghost?”
“Something isn’t right…” Kate said.
They were interrupted by the growling of Smelly. Confused, the group looked around them to see what he was growling at. Then they heard the laughing. Davy’s eyes widened. It was El Patron.
“SHOW YOURSELF!” Davy boomed.
Very well then, David Fireskull, the voice of El Patron said. The group turned to the entrance of the tomb, and standing there was a lone ghost. He was glowing white, completely different from any other ghost that Davy had seen. He was wearing a metal conquistador helmet, and a full suit of conquistador armor. At his side he had a broadsword strapped, as well as a musket on his back. It was hard to make out his features, as the body itself was a black color, too dark to see any specific colors of clothing or small details, other than those red eyes, glowing with evil.
There is a little detail that you have overlooked.
Davy now realized what that detail was.
After El Patron was sealed in this mine, nobody ever was able to kill him and imprison his soul!