ã€ŠThe Necromancer&#x27;s End &#x2B; The Enchanter&#x27;s Riseã€‹


 1. We got ourselves a mage!

    Jeremiah gazed into a dark tunnel and imagined how it would feel to descend the slick steps into its depths. He could feel the air growing cooler and damper, wrapping him in the fertile scent of earth, his torch revealing stairs one by one as he crept toward the first landing of the dungeon. The very thought made the hairs on his arm stand up. Pain, terror, and even death could be lurking just past the twilight of the torch¡¯s influence.

    He had explored several of the dungeon¡¯s tunnels already and had mapped as much as he could, but Jeremiah had not actually entered the dungeon at all. He had sent others to do the exploring for him, learning all that he could from each foray before his servants met their grisly ends. But he never spared any of them a single thought, never shed a tear, never contemplated their passing. For Jeremiah was a necromancer, and his servants had long since left their suffering behind.

    It was a warm day, despite remnants of snow still clinging to shaded hollows underneath trees. Jeremiah had abandoned his heavy traveling cloak as the sun climbed. He leaned back on his rock and stretched, enjoying the afternoon rays on his face. The solitude of the clearing was picturesque¡ªand he didn¡¯t have to worry about hiding his magic when he was alone.

    Well, almost alone. Jeremiah turned to a fat gray toad sitting on a rock beside him. ¡°Okay Gus, whatever is down there has defenses of some kind. They¡¯re all getting killed at the same spot.¡± He peered into his bag of dead rats, waving off the spring flies. He was running low. ¡°I could try to find some larger animals to send down there. Or see if there¡¯s a graveyard nearby. What do you think?¡±

    Gus, Jeremiah¡¯s familiar, didn¡¯t respond. He only lifted his head. Jeremiah obliged him by stroking his chin.

    Jeremiah scanned the clearing. It was sizable, meant to accommodate the structure that had long since deteriorated to a few scattered flagstones. The reinforced door of the dungeon itself was set in the clearing¡¯s center like a cellar hatch. The forest encroached on all sides, the trees just beginning to bud with new growth.

    He recalled the words of his old master: ¡°Necromancy in practice is resource management. Do the absolute most with the absolute least.¡± What resources did he have? A dwindling bag of dead rats, good for scouts and little else. The forest itself, filled with game that was out of reach, given Jeremiah¡¯s lackluster hunting ability. And his secret weapon, carefully packed away in his backpack. ¡°Not yet. I still don¡¯t know what we¡¯re dealing with.¡±

    Jeremiah perked up at the crunch of underbrush. He leapt to his feet and unsheathed a dagger. The clearing was still. His hearing and vision sharpened, and he became aware of the silence that surrounded him. If he were lucky, it might be an animal he could kill and use. If he were unlucky, it could be any of the countless things in the world that would eat him alive.

    A minute passed and Jeremiah¡¯s worry grew. An animal would have moved by now. Whatever was out there was holding still because he was looking for it, and that realization made him tremble.

    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± Jeremiah shouted into the obfuscating greenery. ¡°I warn you, I¡¯m a mage! I just want to be left alone!¡±

    The silence was oppressive. His eyes darted around, looking for an ambush. It felt like the trees were moving closer, every twitching leaf a potential attack. The icy claw of terror began to grip his heart.

    A voice from the trees. ¡°Stop panicking and look exactly where I tell you.¡±

    Jeremiah froze, his muscles so tight they hurt. He awaited further instruction, even while part of him felt shame at his obedience.

    The voice spoke again. ¡°Look a little to the right of where you¡¯re looking now¡­higher, a little more¡­stop! Now to the right. I¡¯m going to move. Remember, do not panic.¡±

    Jeremiah was now staring into the dark upper reaches of a nearby tree. He saw nothing at first. Then a slow wave of motion revealed a figure aiming a bow at him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t panic!¡± the figure said. ¡°I¡¯m not going to hurt you if you just stand there and relax. But I promise, and listen now, I promise I will kill you if you do something stupid. You understand?¡±

    Jeremiah tried to quell his fear by reminding himself that if the archer wanted him dead, he¡¯d already be dead. It didn¡¯t work.

    ¡°Tell me you understand or I¡¯m going to shoot you through the leg.¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Yes, I understand! I¡¯m not going to do anything.¡±

    ¡°Two people are about to step out of the woods. They¡¯re my friends. Either of them could kill you as soon as look at you, so don¡¯t. You. Move.

    A woman¡¯s voice said, ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake Bruno, he¡¯s got the idea.¡±

    The archer, Bruno, shouted back. ¡°He said he was a mage! You want to take chances, be my guest, but don¡¯t expect any sympathy when your skin gets melted.¡±

    Jeremiah caught a glimmer of steel amidst the trees, then a woman entered the clearing. She was tall and clad in full armor. In a moment, she crossed the distance to Jeremiah, twisted the dagger from his grip, and replaced the weapon with a firm handshake, smiling all the while. Her other hand gripped his shoulder. ¡°Allison Allday, pleased to meet you.¡±

    ¡°Jeremiah Thorn,¡± said Jeremiah on reflex. She had disarmed him, introduced herself, and placed him in a controlling hold in the blink of an eye. Oh dear, he thought, this woman is obscenely dangerous.

    A second woman appeared by Allison¡¯s side. Whereas Allison¡¯s very presence demanded attention, this woman seemed to disappear among the vials, jars, and pouches that adorned her, as if she were more shelf than person. Jeremiah spotted a slightly pointed ear under her hair¡ªa half-elf? She extended a hand. ¡°Delilah Fortune.¡±

    Allison transferred Jeremiah¡¯s hand to Delilah¡¯s and stepped to his side. Her grip on his shoulder never slackened.

    ¡°Sorry for the theatrics,¡± Allison said, nearly in his ear. ¡°Bruno didn¡¯t think much of you till you said you were a mage. Can¡¯t be too careful where mages are concerned, can we?¡± She emphasized her point with a squeeze of his shoulder.

    ¡°No, no,¡± said Jeremiah turning his head to smile awkwardly at her. ¡°I¡¯m just glad you¡¯re not thieves.¡±

    Delilah¡¯s smile warmed, inching closer to genuine. She gave Allison¡¯s hand two quick taps, and the vice-like grip loosened. ¡°Can I ask what brings you out here?¡±

    Jeremiah looked back and forth between the two women. The tension and air of threat from Allison had diminished, though her hand still rested on his shoulder. ¡°To be honest, I¡­¡± Jeremiah trailed off. If he told them about the dungeon, they might want whatever treasure was within for themselves. But then, if they were out this far, they were likely here for that very reason. ¡°I heard there was an unexplored dungeon and came to make a go of it.¡±

    Allison finally released his shoulder and clapped him on the back. ¡°Attaboy! That¡¯s why we¡¯re here too. Good on you for not trying to lie about it.¡±

    Jeremiah was stunned by her directness and struggled to find a response. He was saved by Bruno¡¯s arrival.

    Everything about Bruno spoke of a hard, cutthroat life. His eyes were suspicious and cold, his bare arms covered in tattoos ranging from artistic to vulgar, and he moved with a tension like he was ready to sprint away at any moment. He stopped at a distance that would make a handshake awkward and instead nodded a greeting. ¡°Bruno of Dock Road Two.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Jeremiah cocked a brow at the surname. Bruno gave him a look that said, your assumptions are right, and you¡¯re not smart for figuring it out.

    Bruno crossed his arms. ¡°So! We have a problem. You¡¯re here for the dungeon, and so are we. How are we going to handle this, young man?¡±

    Before Jeremiah could answer, Allison said, ¡°No problem at all! We¡¯d be foolish not to ask a mage to join us, wouldn¡¯t we?¡±

    Delilah gave Jeremiah a studious look, then nodded. Bruno sighed, but also gave a curt jerk of his chin.

    Delilah began to speak quickly. ¡°Jeremiah Thorn, will you join our party for this endeavor? We operate on an equal shares basis, with one share awarded to party treasury.¡±

    Jeremiah opened his mouth to speak, but Delilah continued.

    ¡°Upon the endeavor¡¯s completion, one quarter of the party treasury will be additionally awarded to you if we go our separate ways. Any member may purchase a found item from the party at its market cost, the amount paid to be divided among other party members. A caveat pertains to items which specifically and uniquely benefit one member, at the sole discretion of the party. Agreed?¡±

    They all stared at Jeremiah.

    ¡°Umm¡­¡± Jeremiah tried to remember everything she had said, then thought about what they might decide to do to him if they thought he was competition. ¡°Okay, that sounds fair.¡±

    Allison whooped. ¡°Hell yeah! We got ourselves a mage! Alright, campsite. Tents up everyone! Bruno, give us a three-sixty scout. Delilah, get a trap on that dungeon entrance. Jay, get a fire going.¡±

    Allison¡¯s voice had such innate authority that Jeremiah barely noticed the shortening of his name. Coming from her, it sounded like it had always been his nickname.

    Jeremiah watched them go. He turned to his familiar, who hadn¡¯t moved an inch in all the commotion. ¡°This is bad, Gus,¡± he said, bending to scoop up the toad. ¡°It¡¯s good, yes. But it¡¯s very, very bad.¡±

    It was near dark by the time the campsite had been set up. Jeremiah busied himself with the fire as he tried to surreptitiously learn about his new companions.

    Delilah poured a vial of thick amber liquid down the dungeon steps, which had spread to leave a barely perceptible sheen. The handful of glass beads she scattered onto the stairs stuck immediately, as if they had been tossed into syrup. The layers of her robes clearly hid plenty of fascinating admixtures, but Jeremiah¡¯s eyes kept being drawn to the formidable longspear piled with her gear.

    Bruno had disappeared into the forest to scout the perimeter. Jeremiah knew he wouldn¡¯t be spotted again until he decided to be.

    Allison, for her part, had erected the tents with what Jeremiah could only describe as military efficiency. She used the rest of the time to inspect her equipment. The plate armor took most of her attention, but she also performed basic upkeep on her longsword, steel shield, and battleaxe. Jeremiah couldn¡¯t help but notice that these tasks were routine enough to allow her to maintain a watchful eye on him.

    The group gathered around the fire just as Jeremiah finished building it. ¡°We¡¯re clear,¡± said Bruno, tossing his shortbow aside. He unhooked the pair of shortswords from his belt and carefully lay them to either side of his sleeping bag. ¡°Our escape route is east. If east is cutoff, we go north.¡±

    Delilah rolled her eyes as she shed layer after layer of stiff leather strips. ¡°What if they come at us from all directions?¡± she asked with a knowing smile.

    ¡°We say that you¡¯re a princess and offer you as a hostage,¡± Bruno said, without a hint of humor.

    ¡°What? I can¡¯t be the princess?¡± Allison said.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a princess with calluses like yours, so no,¡± Bruno said. He still sounded completely serious.

    ¡°I think Bruno should be the princess,¡± said Delilah. ¡°He¡¯s daintier than either of us.¡±

    Jeremiah chewed his own day¡¯s ration slowly as he listened to their effortless banter. He felt more isolated in the presence of their camaraderie than he did when he was alone. He recognized the urge to try and participate in their friendly jesting, and quashed it. I¡¯ll join them for the dungeon, earn whatever treasure I can, and then get as far away as possible. He knew from experience just how friendly they would be if he let slip that he was a necromancer.

    ¡°Jay, tell us what you know about the dungeon so far,¡± said Allison, startling Jeremiah back to the present.

    Jeremiah fished a single scrap of parchment from his bag. ¡°It¡¯s not great, but it gives you an idea of the layout.¡±

    Allison¡¯s face flickered with a hint of a frown as she looked at the map. Only a few lines were drawn, showing two dead ends and a third continuing into unknown. ¡°Why only this far?¡± she asked.

    Jeremiah had thought of only one good answer to this question. ¡°I got scared.¡±

    Bruno hung his head and laughed. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s adorable.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s smart.¡± Allison took a swig from her waterskin. ¡°Fear is an instinct to be heeded. There¡¯s no such thing as an ¡®easy dungeon.¡¯ Always be prepared to fight for your life. More than a few adventurers should have ¡®They¡¯re just kobolds¡¯ written on their tombstones.¡±

    Jeremiah nodded sagely, grateful that his timidity had been labeled as wisdom.

    ¡°What sort of magic do you practice?¡± asked Delilah.

    Jeremiah¡¯s pulse quickened as he prepared to lie again. ¡°Conjuration, but I¡¯m not very good yet.¡± Necromancy and Conjuration had similar effects at a low levels. Any mage worth their salt could perform a handful of simple universal spells, and this group looked competent enough that he hoped those would be all he needed.

    ¡°Is there anything else about your abilities we should know?¡± asked Allison. Jeremiah fought the urge to squirm under her penetrating gaze.

    ¡°Hmm¡­Oh! I forgot to introduce Gus.¡± Jeremiah pulled the toad from his robes and lifted him for the others to see. ¡°This is Gus. As my familiar, he is magical, more intelligent than a normal toad, and very important to me. Please be careful around him.¡±

    Bruno studied the creature as though memorizing its features, then locked eyes with Jeremiah and nodded once.

    Delilah ¡®s eyes lit up. She leaned close and inspected Gus with intense curiosity. ¡°That¡¯s a blue spined swamp toad! Mind if I take a venom sample? They¡¯re so rare, I¡¯d love to have a look at its properties.¡±

    Jeremiah allowed himself to feel flattered by her excited bounce. This was the most interest anyone had ever shown in Gus. ¡°Sure! Be careful though, being a familiar strengthens his venom¡¯s potency.¡±

    Delilah¡¯s expression shifted to awe. ¡°A dose of blue spine venom is already strong enough to paralyze three men!¡± With utmost care, she produced a metal loop and pressed down on Gus¡¯s back, exposing a blue tinted spine. She coaxed several drops of a clear, viscous liquid into a glass vial. She swirled the vial and peered at it in the firelight. Then she thanked Gus with a stroke under the chin.

    Jeremiah withdrew into his thoughts while the others chatted among themselves. He hoped the dungeon would yield enough wealth to get him a few nights at the local inn. It was safer in the wilderness, away from people, but he was becoming desperate for a real meal and bath.

    Allison soon declared it was time to sleep. Jeremiah, wanting to be helpful, offered to take the first watch.

    Bruno barked a terse laugh. ¡°No offense, but I would rather take a full night¡¯s watch myself than have us all asleep around a mage we just met.¡±

    Jay couldn¡¯t argue with that. Then he wondered whether he was being too trusting himself, but decided that if they wanted to kill him, it wouldn¡¯t much matter if he were awake for it or not.

    As he settled back into his sack, he allowed himself to feel a little excited. Tomorrow he¡¯d be delving a dungeon alongside powerful adventurers. He had dreamed of this since he was a boy! What child didn¡¯t? But he was also afraid, and not just of what dangers might be lurking underground. If they learned what he could do¡­

    Jeremiah pushed the thought aside. All he had to do was not perform any necromancy. He¡¯d make a few silver and be on his way to Barad Celegald. Or maybe River¡¯s Run? Or even the great city of Dramir¡­on the wings of imagined riches, Jeremiah drifted to sleep.

    The party prepared the next morning in near silence. Jeremiah suspected there was a graveness with which one should approach a dungeon delve. After stretching routines and a light breakfast, Allison and Bruno worked together to assemble her armor. Delilah layered herself in leather and fabric. Jeremiah donned a billowing black robe. It offered a modicum of protection, but its real purpose was to allow him to perform complex gestures, hide various components, and provide a safe place for Gus.

    He hoisted his pack and felt the secret cargo inside shift. Allison paused in her armor assembly to address him. ¡°Ask yourself right now¡ªdo I NEED what¡¯s in this bag?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Jeremiah, with solid conviction.

    Allison nodded. ¡°Alright, I trust you.¡±

    They gathered at the dungeon entrance and Delilah used the butt of her spear to break one of the glass beads. The stairs burst into a blazing white fire, so bright Jeremiah had to turn his head, the intense heat shocking him as much as the flash.

    Allison slapped a leather cap onto Jeremiah¡¯s head, buckling it in place. ¡°Keep Bruno and me in front of you, Delilah behind you. I don¡¯t know your magic, so I¡¯m trusting you to act as you see best. Stay in formation unless I say otherwise. Warn us if you¡¯re about to do something that could affect us. Focus on magic and keeping your eyes and ears open.¡± Then she wrapped her hand around the back of his head with a reassuring grip. She leaned forward and touched her forehead to his, holding his gaze. ¡°I can tell you haven¡¯t done this before,¡± she whispered. ¡°We¡¯ll protect you, but be safe. No heroics.¡±

    Jeremiah swallowed at the intensity of her proximity, but he appreciated her words. He nodded and she released him.

    Allison moved to the head of the party and turned to face them. Suddenly that dangerous woman from the day before was back. The sun broached the tops of the trees, washing his companions with a golden glow. They glanced back toward Jeremiah.

    They look¡­heroic. Jeremiah took a deep breath, reminding himself of the helmet Allison had put on him to protect his skull. That thought sobered him up. He nodded to the three of them and drew his dagger.

    ¡°Good?¡± asked Allison.

    ¡°Good,¡± said Bruno and Delilah.

    Jeremiah¡¯s stomach swooped. ¡°Good,¡± he managed.

    ¡°Let¡¯s delve this dungeon,¡± Allison growled, and led them into the depths Jeremiah had only dreamed of.

 2. First Contact

    Allison moved down the long hallway behind her shield. As the light from the entrance dimmed, Bruno whispered from behind Allison, ¡°Hold. Delilah, eyes.¡±

    Delilah produced two tiny flasks and reached forward, past Jeremiah, to hand them to Bruno. Jeremiah saw they had forgotten there was an extra body between them now. He resolved to make himself worth bringing along.

    Bruno shared one flask with Allison, then upended the flask¡¯s contents directly into his eyes. He sucked air through his teeth and got back into his ready position.

    ¡°Clear ahead,¡± he said. ¡°Good to move.¡±

    As they began to move again, Delilah whispered to Jeremiah, ¡°Night Eye tonic, helps see in the dark. Don¡¯t shine a light in their eyes.¡±

    Jeremiah whispered, ¡°Why not just make a light? I can do that if you want.¡±

    Allison answered from the front, ¡°A light means anyone can see us coming a mile away. Delilah watches the back, Bruno watches the front.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°What about me?¡±

    Without hesitation, Allison said, ¡°Delilah, eyes Jay.¡±

    A firm hand pulled Jeremiah¡¯s head back till he was looking at the ceiling, then a cold liquid poured into his eyes. He gritted his teeth against the stinging and tried to stay quiet as the hand released him. He bent over and rubbed his eyes. When he blinked again, he marveled at the effect: what had been pitch black moments before was now bright as day, though colors were muted.

    His rat scouts had relayed only the most basic of information¡ªscurry, turn right, death. Now he saw the dungeon with his own eyes. The cobble under their feet had been worn smooth over the centuries, and the halls were wide enough that Jeremiah could imagine small carts being wheeled up and down the sloping floor. The air was cool and musty, undisturbed by the years, although Jeremiah thought he could sense a rancid edge emanating from further down. The stone brick walls exaggerated the smallest sound, making up for an age of silence.

    Jeremiah shivered. They were really doing this.

    They crept deeper and deeper, hearing only their own footsteps. Soon, Bruno called a halt and inched ahead of Allison to inspect something on the ground.

    ¡°Rat skeleton,¡± he said. ¡°Picked clean and smashed.¡±

    He looked up and further down the hall.

    ¡°Couple of them. Weird.¡±

    Jeremiah knew these rat skeletons well. His pulse quickened as they approached the defenses that had destroyed so many of his scouts.

    They heard soft footsteps a moment before a small form appeared around the corner ahead¡ªa goblin! It clutched a crudely-made sword, standing only as tall as Jeremiah¡¯s waist. Its large eyes widened as it pointed a clawed hand toward the party and screeched an alarm.

    The goblin died mid-screech with Bruno¡¯s arrow in its skull, but the damage was done. The staccato of multiple pairs of feet emanated from the hall ahead, accompanied by a growing hiss.

    The goblins shrieked as they charged around the corner¡ªthree, five, eight, soon more than Jeremiah could count. They swung their swords overhead and launched at the party with reckless abandon.

    Bruno¡¯s arrows flew with deadly accuracy, dropping the lead goblins to the floor. The rest of the goblin pack trampled their bodies without slowing.

    ¡°SIEGE!¡± shouted Allison. She knelt and planted her shield against the ground, angling it toward herself to direct blows upward.

    Delilah pushed Jeremiah aside to make room for her spear, reaching past Allison. She braced to meet the charging swarm.

    The goblins crashed against Allison¡¯s shield, attempting to spill around it to reach the blood they were craving. Delilah¡¯s spear impaled two with a powerful thrust. Bruno dropped his bow in favor of twin short swords and began hacking at goblins spilling around Allison¡¯s other flank.

    Jeremiah gaped at the efficiency of the bloodbath. There seemed to be nothing for him to do.

    More goblins poured around the corner to meet their end on the party¡¯s formation. They crawled over each other to try to breach Allison¡¯s defenses. Small dull hatchets and swords hacked at her armored legs before they were cut down by Bruno or Delilah.

    ¡°SALLYING OUT!¡± roared Allison. She shoved against her shield, toppling the goblins piling onto it, then brought her sword around in a wide sweep. Her blade never slowed as it passed through goblin after goblin.

    The goblin offensive stalled while they struggled to time their attacks in between Allison¡¯s swings, only to find her vulnerable moments were covered by Bruno and Delilah. A few blows landed on Allison¡¯s legs and feet, and she swore at the more solid hits, but her armor held¡­for the most part.

    Jeremiah¡¯s reverie at the carnage was broken when a goblin hatchet connected with Allison¡¯s leg. He heard her cry out, saw the blade come back slick and red, and snapped into action.

    His master had forced him to drill relentlessly, casting the same spells over and over again until he was at risk of casting them in his sleep. All for a moment like this. Without hesitation, Jeremiah spoke ancient words that, with the proper will, could alter reality itself. He gestured his hand forward, angled toward the ceiling beyond Allison, and from his outstretched palm flew a congealed ball of deep green acid.

    The acid splashed against the ceiling and rained down on the goblin horde. The goblins screamed as the acid sizzled through their flesh.

    ¡°OH, HELL YES!¡± said Allison, and pressed ahead. Those goblins not killed by the acid rain were cleaved down in moments as she pressed forward in strong, controlled steps.

    Delilah shouted into Jeremiah¡¯s ear over the screeches of the goblins. ¡°Again on three!¡±

    ¡°ONE!¡± Something flew past Jeremiah¡¯s head far back down the hall, into the crowd of goblins.

    ¡°TWO!¡± There was a flash, a bang, and a rush of air as fire erupted into the hallway, immolating a group of goblins. Those beyond the fire backed away, but those closer to the party crammed tightly together, their fear of the flames driving them to clamber over each other.

    Jeremiah cast his spell just as Delilah shouted ¡°THREE!¡±, and once it again it rained acid, this time into the densely packed goblin mass. Their screams were deafening. Jeremiah reeled at the stench of so much melting flesh. The furthest goblins fled, while any who survived the acid were cut down by Allison. Bruno kicked his bow up into his hands and began loosing arrows after the retreating goblins, dropping one after the other until they had all disappeared.

    The entire fight lasted only moments. Allison finished off the last few and stood atop her conquered foes, drenched from head to toe in blood and drawing deep, controlled breaths. There was silence but for the sound of their panting.

    ¡°Heh,¡± Bruno gave an uneasy laugh. ¡°Hehe! Hahaha!¡±

    The break in tension was contagious and soon all four of them were whooping and hollering in their victory. ¡°That!¡± shouted Bruno, ¡°was fucking spectacular! Raining acid? That was the most heinous thing I¡¯ve ever seen!¡±

    Jeremiah took it as a compliment, heady with giddiness at his first combat victory. Then he remembered the event that had inspired his attack. ¡°Allison! Are you alright? I saw you take an axe to the leg!¡±

    Allison raised her visor and grinned. ¡°Psh, flesh wound. Let me show you my scar collection sometime, I¡¯ve got some that put Bruno¡¯s nicest tattoos to shame.¡±

    They laughed, but Delilah insisted on inspecting the wound. The axe had left a shallow gouge between the armor plates on Allison¡¯s thigh.

    ¡°Superficial, but it¡¯s likely to get infected,¡± said Delilah. ¡°We¡¯re better off taking care of it now.¡± She wiggled a small unguent bottle at Allison.

    Allison nodded and showed only the smallest of tics as Delilah used her fingers to push the milky white unguent into the wound. Jeremiah noticed Bruno turn away and pretend to keep watch. When she was done, Allison shifted her weight onto the wounded leg and grunted. ¡°It¡¯s better. Thanks, Delilah.¡±

    Jeremiah¡¯s relief was cut short by the echoes of more goblin screeches from up ahead.

    ¡°Alright,¡± said Allison with grim authority, ¡°we¡¯re moving on. These goblins don¡¯t have anything we want.¡±

    Jeremiah gazed at the exposed skull of a dead goblin, its flesh melted off by the acid. ¡°No,¡± he sighed, ¡°I guess they don¡¯t.¡±

    Jeremiah marveled as they continued on. The party had just endured a potentially deadly ordeal, and now they were carrying on like nothing had happened. A smile bloomed on his lips as he thought of the praise he had received from companions. In his first life-or-death fight not only did he survive, he did a damn good job! Maybe he really could be a useful ally, even without undead.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    The hallway began to curve downward, the air chilling further as they descended. Spatters of blood on the ground marked the goblins¡¯ retreat, alongside a few goblins that had succumbed to their wounds.

    The hallway leveled off into a wide corridor with large alcoves the left and right. ¡°Ah, storage,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Was wondering what this place used to be.¡±

    Jeremiah peered into one of the hollows and imagined it loaded with crates of dried food, hogshead barrels of wine, and stacks upon stacks of cheese.

    ¡°They used to hang salted meats down here,¡± said Delilah pointing to long metal runners in the ceiling. ¡°Must have been a real fancy place upstairs.¡±

    ¡°Hey Al,¡± Bruno said, ¡°this place might be bigger than we thought.¡±

    ¡°Could be,¡± said Allison, focused on her slow march forward.

    There was a pregnant pause before Bruno spoke again. ¡°That was an awful lot of goblins for a front guard. Should we consider whether this place is a Warren?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s crossed my mind,¡± said Allison without looking up. ¡°If anyone wants to make the call that this is a Warren, say so and we bail right now.¡±

    There was a bit of nervous shifting, but no one explained. Jeremiah felt compelled to ask. ¡°What¡¯s a Warren? How is it different from¡­whatever it¡¯s normally not?¡±

    Bruno answered. ¡°Goblins normally live in Hollows. They¡¯re led by a chieftain or whoever can keep them in line. They breed like rabbits, and they go from infant to dangerous in less than a year.¡±

    ¡°If left unchecked,¡± continued Delilah, ¡°the population will continue to grow, assuming enough space and resources. After the hollow reaches a certain size, one of the females will transform into what¡¯s called a Matriarch. Massive, powerful, and worst of all, she exerts a kind of mental control over the other goblins. They become meaner, more organized. She can also breed even faster than normal females. That¡¯s when a goblin problem really gets out of hand¡ªyou can get hundreds, or even thousands of them. That¡¯s why it¡¯s important to take care of Hollows quickly, before they can develop into Warrens.¡±

    ¡°So if this is Warren¡­¡± Jeremiah said, guessing he knew the answer.

    ¡°If this turns out to be a Warren,¡± said Allison, ¡°You turn, you run, you don¡¯t stop running till you¡¯re miles away and in a fortress.¡±

    Delilah shuddered. ¡°My teacher¡¯s sister¡¯s husband was part of the Red Ridge Mountain group.¡±

    Bruno glanced back. ¡°Seriously?¡± Seeing Jeremiah¡¯s confusion, he explained. ¡°Bunch of damn-near legendary adventurers delved the Red Ridge Mountain Warren. They had mages, healers, warriors, specialist spelunkers, the whole lot. The only guy that came back was one of the porters. He said it was some kind of SUPER Warren that had hundreds of thousands of goblins. That place is still active, isn¡¯t it, Allison?¡±

    Allison frowned. ¡°Technically, in that no one has cleared it out and killed the Matriarch. But it¡¯s been years since anyone has encountered more than a couple of goblins out there. Some people say a plague must have wiped them out, but these things live in absolute squalor and almost never get sick, so I doubt it.¡±

    ¡°I think there was a catastrophic collapse,¡± said Delilah, ¡°See the Red Ridge Mountain geological zone is notori-¡°

    ¡°Quiet,¡± said Allison, raising her hand. She cocked her head, listening to the depths.

    Jeremiah strained his hearing. After a few moments, he became aware of a low grinding emanating from the darkness below them. Was it growing louder?

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Allison said, checking each alcove they passed for lurking goblin ambushes.

    They left the storage corridor behind to continue their descent through the cool stone passages. Allison¡¯s wariness ratcheted ever higher as the grinding grew louder. Jeremiah found his eyes fixating on every shadow as though it were a goblin sneaking up on them in the low din.

    Allison stopped so suddenly that Jeremiah ran into Bruno in front of him. ¡°Get ready,¡± Allison growled, setting her sword and shield.

    Ready for what? Jeremiah didn¡¯t dare ask as the grinding echoed up the stonework, now unmistakably moving toward them.

    Out of the darkness beyond the range of Jeremiah¡¯s Night Eyes materialized an enormous wooden wall, advancing inexorably on their position. It filled the square corridor completely. There wasn¡¯t even space for Delilah¡¯s spear to poke around the top or sides. Jeremiah¡¯s jaw dropped as the wall rumbled toward them, seemingly heedless of the adventuring party in its path. Then he realized the wall¡¯s surface was bristling with crossbows. As the wall closed on their position, crossbow bolts began to pelt Allison.

    The party ducked as Allison angled her shield to protect them from the volley. She exchanged her sword for the battle-axe at her side. ¡°I¡¯ll breach. COVER ME!¡±

    Allison launched herself the last dozen feet toward the wall, Bruno and Delilah falling into step to cover her flanks. Jeremiah stared after them for a split second before urging his feet to follow. He wasn¡¯t sure how he could help, but he did not want to be left behind.

    Allison reared back as she neared the wall, and swung her axe against the wood with a battle cry. Several small windows opened as her blade rebounded, and a riposte of spears and daggers thrust at her armor. Allison spun away and Delilah drove her spear into an open window, withdrawing it covered in blood. Bruno loosed a few arrows, but the windows closed as soon as Allison was beyond reach.

    Jeremiah shouted, ¡°Acid!¡± and launched an acid ball over the party¡¯s head to splatter against the wall. Allison raised her shield against the splashback, but the ball of acid merely slid off the wood without so much as marring its engraved surface.

    ¡°It¡¯s been alchemically treated!¡± shouted Delilah.

    Allison swung her axe again and again, but was barely able to cut splinters from the wood. Each attack left her open to the stabs of the wall¡¯s defenders. Jeremiah could hear the goblins behind the wall chittering with excitement and cheering with each successful breach of Allison¡¯s armor.

    A daring set of hands waited for Allison¡¯s swing and seized her shield, pulling her against the door. As Allison braced her foot on the wall to yank it free, a cruel blade sank deep into the underside of her knee. Allison screamed as the blade twisted, then brought her axe down and severed the attacking arm. With a final wrench she was able to free her shield, but as she tried to adopt her stance, her leg gave way. She dropped to a knee with a grunt.

    A triumphant shriek from behind the party filled Jeremiah¡¯s heart with dread. He turned in seemingly slow motion to see a single goblin (how did we miss him?) plunge a lit torch into a small barrel. An instant later, an explosion immolated the goblin and spread toward them, flaming oil engulfing their only avenue of retreat. The goblins behind the wall cheered, and it began closing in on the party again.

    ¡°Ideas?¡± shouted Bruno. His continuous stream of arrows helped dissuade the small windows from opening, but did nothing against the advance of the wall.

    Allison raised her shield and slammed against the wall, trying to brace her good leg against the smooth cobble floor. Immediately, knives and spears appeared, looking to punish any gap in her armor. Delilah thrust her spear toward the attackers¡¯ windows, only to have them snap shut and reopen again like a macabre festival game.

    Jeremiah began to cough as the oily smoke filled the hallway. Delilah had abandoned her spear and was frantically combining vials. Bruno was pressed against Allison¡¯s back to help her push against the wall. But it was gaining on them, shoving them back toward the flames an inch at a time. Jeremiah shied away from the heat of the flames, trying to breathe through the sleeve his robe as he began to cough harder. They were all beginning to choke on the smoke, which stirred something in Jeremiah¡¯s memory.

    He hurried through the words of power in between coughing fits, puffed out his cheeks and blew. A cloud of yellow gas emanated from his mouth and settled on the floor.

    Jeremiah shouted, ¡°Hold your breath!¡± He blew again and again, willing more of the yellow gas into existence. It billowed across the floor, seeping past the edges of the wall. The victorious shrieks from behind the wall turned to coughing, and became strangled and wet. Jeremiah continued casting.

    Finally, the goblins¡¯ coughs gave way to chokes of pain. The pressure on the wall relented. Jeremiah quickly conjured a counterspell, his lungs crying out for oxygen. The yellow gas around their knees began to dispel slowly, far too slowly. Jeremiah resisted as long as he could before collapsing to his knees, gasping for air.

    Jeremiah blinked, realizing he must have blacked out for a moment. His throat burned from the residual gas, but it had not reached his lungs. He continued gulping down air, relishing the relief it brought. Behind him, the woosh of a mini windstorm snuffed out the remains of the fire as Delilah finished her admixture and tossed it onto the flames.

    There was no laughter with this victory. Jeremiah rolled onto his back, still panting, barely aware of the rest of the party taking stock of their wounds and equipment. Eventually, Bruno appeared overhead, offering a hand. He pulled Jeremiah to his feet.

    ¡°Brilliant,¡± Bruno said, slapping him on the shoulder. ¡°Even better than the last one. Can¡¯t wait to see what you pull out next.¡±

    Jeremiah gave a weak grin. ¡°I¡¯m just glad it turned out that gas wasn¡¯t flammable.¡±

    Bruno¡¯s hand fell away. ¡°Me too.¡±

    ¡°We should just have you fill the rest of the dungeon with gas,¡± said Allison. ¡°Would save us a hell of a lot of work.¡±

    Jeremiah shook his head. ¡°Can¡¯t. That would take way too much focus.¡±

    ¡°Focus?¡± asked Allison. ¡°Like, you¡¯ll get bored?¡±

    ¡°Not quite. Casting takes a massive amount of directed willpower. After a big spell or too many small ones, it gets harder to will things to happen. Like reading a very boring book¡ªeventually you just can¡¯t force yourself to concentrate on it anymore. Or on anything, really. Once your focus burns out, it becomes tough to differentiate what¡¯s important from anything that just catches your attention.¡±

    ¡°As someone who has read a lot of boring books,¡± said Delilah, ¡°I now fully understand magic and am ready to begin my training.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m terrified to think of this party with two mages,¡± said Bruno with a mock shudder. Jeremiah laughed, but at the same time felt touched at Bruno¡¯s wording including him in the party. ¡°How¡¯s our girl?¡± Bruno asked, turning to Allison.

    ¡°She¡®s alright,¡± said Delilah, ¡°It could have been a lot worse if a ligament had been cut. I put a healing accelerant on it for now and numbed the area. It¡¯ll be okay by tomorrow, but don¡¯t overexert yourself.¡± She spoke the last with a touch of sternness.

    Allison shifted weight onto the leg with the merest of grimaces and nodded. ¡°Fuck, that hurt. That was actually a new place to get stabbed for me.¡± She began moving gingerly through a series of combat stances. ¡°More importantly, though, what the hell is alchemically treated wood?¡±

    Delilah¡¯s eyes widened. She darted over to the wall where it still blocked the corridor and began inspecting it. She scratched it, smelled it, listened as she tapped on it, touched her tongue to it, even produced a metal file and, with effort, managed to scrape off some shavings.

    ¡°This,¡± she said, turning toward them, her face bright, ¡°is Ironwood! Strong enough normally, but has received further alchemical resistance treatments as well! And it¡¯s over four inches thick!¡± This conclusion she announced with a flourish.

    Bruno crossed his arms. ¡°I know Ironwood is rare, and alchemically treated sounds interesting, but how do we get past this thing?¡±

    ¡°Get past it? Oh, no no no!¡± Delilah gestured toward the wall as if revealing a work of art. ¡°This is a custom-built fortress door! These little windows are for repelling attackers, as we saw. The workmanship is excellent, and the treatment is top notch. Lady and gentlemen, this thing is worth a lot of money! Especially to whomever had it commissioned!¡±

    Jeremiah felt Delilah¡¯s enthusiasm tug at the corners of his own mouth. ¡°How much are we talking?¡±

    ¡°No way to know for sure until we get it appraised and see if we can find the original client. But if we manage to take it back to Dramir, we could be looking at quite a bit.¡±

    Bruno clapped his hands together and rubbed them. ¡°Now you¡¯re talking! Grab some rope and let¡¯s get it out of our way for now. Then we¡¯ll just push it back out the entrance when we leave!¡±

    The other three gave Allison a break, and spent quite a while rotating the door flush against the wall. Despite being on small wheels, the immense door had required several dozens of goblins to move it, and Jeremiah felt nearly as exhausted after the effort as he had immediately after casting the gas.

    Delilah continued to run her fingers over the ironwood¡¯s surface, admiring different aspects until Allison barked at her to get back into marching order. Energized by their victory and the promise of future wealth, the party delved deeper into the dungeon.

 3. Desperate Times

    Allison led them further, prepared at every turn for an attack that did not come. Jeremiah¡¯s anxiety had been sharpened to an edge of excitement. He and his companions had faced death twice and had overcome the challenge. He had contributed. He was part of the team. A small seed of trust was starting to germinate, the roots tickling inside his chest. Then he stepped over another dead goblin and remembered that such friendships were impossible for a necromancer. He pressed on.

    The corridor ended in a large stone door, hewn from the rock itself. Allison gestured with her sword and Bruno, crouched low to the ground, moved like a shadow toward the door, pausing frequently to listen or inspect the floor. Upon reaching the door, he spent several long moments scrutinizing it, its handles, hinges, and edges, before reaching into a pouch and producing a small metal cone. He touched the mouth of the cone against the door, his ear close to the hole at the narrow end.

    The group waited in total silence. Jeremiah¡¯s heartbeat thudded in his ears. He became all too aware of the metallic scent of blood covering Allison¡¯s armor. He checked on Gus and found him in good health, nestled deep in the most protected pocket of his robes.

    At last, Bruno returned, this time rather more like a man than a shadow. ¡°Quiet as a tomb in there, and the door isn¡¯t trapped or locked. I can feel airflow, though, so I think the room on the other side is sizable. But goddamn does it stink.¡±

    Allison nodded and Bruno began the painstaking process of opening the door, one inch at a time, scanning for any sign of trap or alarm. Then it was fully open.

    The room was enormous, stretching beyond the range of their Night Eyes in all directions. The smell¡ªpervasive and thick, a carrion stench that coated Jeremiah¡¯s tongue and seeped down his throat.

    Allison peered into the darkness. ¡°Can one of you make more light?¡±

    Jeremiah and Delilah nodded together. Jeremiah conjured a ball of white light that hovered near his shoulder, casting a soft glow around the party. Delilah pulled out a thin glass tube and twisted it, cracking a seam in the middle. It flared almost blindingly bright, illuminating the space for at least a hundred feet in all directions.

    The light revealed row after row of massive stone columns. Piles of refuse towered like sentinels all around them¡ªbones, broken furniture, rags, animal carcasses, weather-beaten tools and weapons. The detritus was punctuated by wooden beams and large stones that must have crumbled from the ceiling high above.

    After the claustrophobic press of the hallways, stepping into this space should have been liberating. Instead, it squeezed them tighter. Angular, alien shadows swarmed around them as they swung their lights, seemingly waiting for the chance to leap upon them.

    ¡°What is this place?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°No clue,¡± said Delilah, ¡°I can¡¯t imagine the purpose of a room this big, so deep underground. The fact that it exists at all is a marvel of engineering.¡±

    They ventured further into the room, heads on a swivel. The stench grew stronger, adopting an acidic tinge that stung their nostrils.

    Bruno¡¯s expression turned to disappointment as he took a closer look at some of the refuse. ¡°I¡¯m not seeing anything that looks like treasure. There can¡¯t be much more to this place, can there?¡±

    Allison scanned the room, but before she could answer, a sound like rocks being crushed reverberated around the room. She whirled, ready to sprint for the exit. ¡°Cave in?!¡±

    They spun, looking for signs of falling debris. A movement caught Jeremiah¡¯s eye.

    One of the massive boulders heaved and rolled across the floor, great wooden timbers caught in its wake, and shuddered to a stop. The boulder began to rise, and Jeremiah finally recognized it for what it was.

    Towering over them was a titanic creature, nearly eighteen feet tall. It had hands the breadth of wagon wheels at the end of long, flabby arms. In its wicked nails, it clutched a decomposing body in crushed armor, still clinging to a sword and shield. The creature¡¯s grey, blubbery flesh oozed with boils and sores. But the sight that struck terror into Jeremiah¡¯s heart was its head¡ªa grotesque version of a goblin¡¯s face, stretched to fit red bulbous eyes and teeth as long as daggers.

    Jeremiah stammered as those horrible eyes bulged down at him. He stumbled backwards, unable to look away, and managed only a strangled whimper to alert the others.

    ¡°A Matriarch,¡± whispered Delilah, her voice filled with terror and awe.

    ¡°Get to the door, NOW!¡± Allison shouted.

    They ran for the exit. The entire room shook as the Matriarch gave chase on elephantine legs, triggering avalanches of refuse. The party darted around protrusions of timbers and tangles of rotted rope that attacked their ankles. The Matriarch bellowed, so close that Jeremiah felt the wind and the heat of her rancid breath. The roar rang through his thoughts, driving any sense from them.

    ¡°She¡¯s summoning the Warren!¡± yelled Delilah.

    The ancient door still hung ajar. As they hurtled toward it, lights began to appear beyond it. The tunnel flickered and danced with the silhouettes of hundreds of tiny forms rushing toward them, their wrathful screeches like steel scraping against steel.

    Bruno suddenly planted a foot and rammed his shoulder into Jeremiah. Jeremiah stumbled against a pile of splintered boards, then felt a whoosh as the Matriarch¡¯s decayed warrior flew past and smashed into the stone wall beside the door.

    ¡°DELILAH!¡± shouted Allison, ¡°Burn that hallway, give it everything you¡¯ve got! When we reach the door, we turn and kill this thing!¡±

    Allison¡¯s orders were suicide, but the authority of her voice was a comfort. At the wall, Bruno and Jeremiah turned, seeing that Allison had stopped earlier to interpose herself between them and the Matriarch as the massive creature plowed through the debris in her path. Delilah continued through the doorway and began heaving bottle after flask after box as fast as she could down the hall. Then she darted back into the room and slammed the door shut, just as a roar of flame drowned out the shrieks of pain. A bright white glow shone through the gaps in the door, but beyond it, the furious screeching soon rose again.

    The Matriarch let out another roar as she lumbered toward Allison. Jeremiah recognized the large wooden square suspended from her neck like an oversized necklace to cover her chest. ¡°It¡¯s more Ironwood! She¡¯s made armor out of it!¡±

    Bruno began loosing arrows at the Matriarch, aiming for her face and neck. They stuck into her skin like needles, but she didn¡¯t seem to notice. Then a shot connected with her oversized eye. The Matriarch clutched her hand over it and roared. Her advance staggered. Blood and other fluids ran down her face and her screams of pain turned to rage.

    ¡°Listen.¡± The stoic calm in Allison¡¯s voice cut through Jeremiah¡¯s panic. ¡°She dies before those fires go out, or we¡¯re done. Fight like a wolf pack: surround her and attack when she¡¯s not focused on you. We can do this!¡±

    Jeremiah willed his feet to follow Allison¡¯s orders, but it was as though he were rooted to the floor. He watched as Bruno and Delilah fanned out to either side and, to his horror, Allison raised her shield and countercharged the Matriarch.

    When they met, the Matriarch swung her fist so hard that the blow exploded stones from the floor. Allison however, had already twirled to avoid the blow and close the remaining distance. She slashed her sword up the Matriarch¡¯s arm before driving it hilt deep into her prodigious belly.

    Delilah rushed in at an angle to thrust her spear into the Matriarch¡¯s stumpy leg, driving her down to a knee. Bruno continued his barrage of arrows, searching for the second eye.

    The Matriarch was stunned for only a moment. She stood, dragging Delilah across the stone floor as she clung to the spear. The Matriarch yanked the weapon from her leg and from Delilah¡¯s grasp with a growl and a spray of thick dark blood, and swung it at Delilah like a switch, snapping the shaft.

    Allison used the distraction to thrust her sword into the Matriarch¡¯s hip, penetrating the outermost layers of fat. Bruno abandoned his empty quiver to leap onto the Matriarch¡¯s back, digging a shortsword into her side for grip. The Matriarch howled and swatted at him. Bruno dodged the massive hand, pulling himself up farther to hack at the heavy ropes around her neck.

    The Matriarch spun with surprising speed, causing Bruno to lose is grip on his sword and threw him unceremoniously from her back to land in a heap of rotting meat some distance away. In the same motion, she caught Allison with a backhand that sent her sprawling. Jeremiah¡¯s cheer at Bruno¡¯s success died in his throat as he watched his friends tossed aside like ragdolls.

    Still clutching the broken spear, the Matriarch turned her attention back toward Delilah. With a swing like a whip crack, she drove Delilah into the ground. Jeremiah heard breaking glass. The delicate sound seemed so out of place that it finally broke his paralysis.

    As the Matriarch raised the spear to impale Delilah like a sausage on a stick, Jeremiah launched an orb of acid directly into her long, pointed ear. The Matriarch screamed and reeled back, dropping the spear to frantically wipe off the acid, and some skin with it. To Jeremiah¡¯s dismay, though, only the skin was blistering. Painful, but not nearly as debilitating as the spell had been on her smaller kin.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    The Matriarch turned from her closer meal and leapt toward Jeremiah, closing the distance in an instant. Jeremiah scrambled, trying to flee in two directions at once. A massive hand drove him into the ground. His head bounced off the stone, his leather cap cushioning the deadly blow to be merely dizzying.

    As the world spun, Jeremiah felt those elongated fingers closing around him. He couldn¡¯t bring his limbs to move. Instead, he struggled to focus his swimming vision on a figure, fast approaching from behind the Matriarch.

    The armored form of Allison charged into clarity. She slashed at the back of the Matriarch¡¯s ankles, looking for any part of the creature unprotected by thick blubber.

    The Matriarch released Jeremiah and turned toward Allison, seeming to take account of the situation for the first time. Allison was battered but uninjured, sword and shield raised defensively. Bruno had pulled himself to his feet, a single sword still in hand. Delilah was stirring, shaking her head to clear it, and rummaging through her robes. The Matriarch¡¯s dinner was proving an annoyance.

    From his vantage point on the floor, Jeremiah realized that the once-bright glow from under the door was dimming rapidly. Countless goblins squabbled beyond the fading light. The Matriarch seemed to reach the same conclusions as he did. She began to laugh, a cold, cruel laugh that froze the blood in Jeremiah¡¯s veins.

    ¡°KILL HER!¡± bellowed Allison, banging her sword against her shield to draw the Matriarch¡¯s attention. The beast lumbered toward her, swinging her arms in wide, sweeping haymakers. Allison caught some blows on her shield, but even those sent her reeling. She was being battered like a cat¡¯s toy, fighting for footing as she backpedaled through rubble, her shield beginning to crumple. A particularly vicious series of strikes ripped her helmet off and she counterattacked, hacking at the Matriarch¡¯s knuckles and wrists, but the creature didn¡¯t seem to mind, splattering blood in great arcs as she continued the onslaught.

    Bruno jumped in to slash at the Matriarch¡¯s injured knee, trying to give Allison a moment to breathe. The Matriarch punished his interference by snatching his legs with lightning quickness and swinging him at Allison like a club, slamming him into her shield and then tossing his limp form aside.

    Delilah launched a ceramic pot against the Matriarch¡¯s back. It exploded with a sharp bang and sent slivers of clay digging shallow wounds into her flesh. It seemed only to further enrage her attacks on Allison, who had been backed against a boulder and was now fighting fully defensively under the cascade of blows.

    Jeremiah tried to summon the focus to cast another acid ball, but his head swam as he said the words and the force of will needed to shape reality eluded him. Behind him, the goblin¡¯s frenzied shrieks reached a fever pitch. He glanced back to see that the glow of the fire was gone.

    Delilah appeared at his side. ¡°I¡¯ll hold them. You have to help Allison, go!¡± She tossed two jars of gelatinous goo against the threshold of the door and braced her back against it. The door jumped open an inch as countless tiny bodies began slamming it from the other side, but she threw all her weight back against it to keep it closed. ¡°Go!¡±

    Jeremiah ran toward the melee as the Matriarch rained blows upon Allison. She had discarded her battered shield and was ducking and twisting to avoid the attacks. For every few attacks she managed to evade, however, she would take another on the armor, crushing the steel plates in lieu of her bones.

    Jeremiah knew Allison wouldn¡¯t be able to hold out much longer. He forced himself to ignore the ringing in his head, to draw upon his battle training and summon the focus that should still be within him. This time, the acid ball materialized, and when it splashed against the Matriarch¡¯s back, she howled in pain and fury.

    The Matriarchs next punch was wild, granting Allison a rare opportunity to counter. She rammed her sword deep through the Matriarch¡¯s wrist and twisted the blade. Jeremiah launched another acid ball into the beast¡¯s shoulder, willing her to break off the attack, to come for him, anything to spare Allison her fury.

    Instead, the Matriarch¡¯s eyes flashed with cold cunning. In a flash, she snapped the rope holding her armor, then swung the Ironwood door at Allison as if swatting a fly with a book. Allison shouted in pain as the blow connected. She was slammed back against the boulder and in a surprisingly graceful motion, the Matriarch thrust the edge of the massive door into Allison¡¯s shoulder, crushing the armor as well as the bones inside.

    Allison let out a blood curdling scream. The Matriarch grinned, ignoring the sword still piercing her wrist. A thick tongue parted the Matriarch¡¯s purple lips and wetted them with slime as she savored Allison¡¯s helplessness.

    Allison kicked and swore, clawing uselessly at the improvised weapon with her free hand. When she met Jeremiah¡¯s eyes and saw him preparing to throw another acid ball, she screamed directly at him. ¡°KILL HER!¡±

    The world moved in slow motion for Jeremiah. He saw Allison, moments from a grisly death. He saw blades reaching through the growing gap in the door as Delilah strained to hold it shut. The fog in his mind gave way to clarity¡ªhe had no choice. Kill the Matriarch. No matter the cost.

    The bag slung over Jeremiah¡¯s shoulder was a gift. His teacher¡¯s warning echoed in his ears. ¡°I don¡¯t give this lightly. This is your ¡®no-win scenario¡¯ solution. Understand this: it will kill anything and everything it can. You will, at best, be able to suggest what it goes after first.¡±

    Jeremiah upended the bag, his heart pounding. Boney human remains clattered onto the floor. Tendons formed neatly-folded joints, connecting skull, spine, torso, limbs¡ªa complete skeleton. The bones were blood red and looked slick and wet. The tips of its fingers, toes, and teeth were sharpened to needle points, and its skull was deformed into a crown of boney spines. Jeremiah throat was dry, but he spoke the practiced words and focused his willpower into the skeleton. He found it already brimming with necromantic energy; reanimating it was as easy as firing a crossbow.

    Jeremiah struggled to maintain his mental connection with the skeleton. It seethed at his control, accepting instruction only with the promise of violence. Like a picket fence on either side of a raging bull, Jeremiah could only offer the suggestion of direction, and pointed it directly at the Matriarch.

    The red skeleton exploded into motion, moving so fast toward the Matriarch that dust lifted in its wake. A small part of Jeremiah¡¯s mind was stunned at the speed, but the rest was devoted to imbuing the skeleton with an all-encompassing drive to kill the Matriarch. Kill her.

    The skeleton leapt onto the Matriarch¡¯s back, who was leaned over Allison, jaws wide. The sharpened bones on the skeleton¡¯s toes dug into her skin, and it slashed with its claws with such speed and ferocity that they were a blur, tearing out gobs of flesh and fat, digging into the Matriarch¡¯s body as if it were made of sand. The Matriarch spasmed in pain, her good eye rolling and her face distorting in agony. She released Allison and the door and flailed with frantic desperation to dislodge the source of torment.

    The skeleton sank its teeth in the Matriarch¡¯s back and tore out great mouthfuls with superhuman strength. It leaned back and opened its jaw wide, rib cage expanding as though breathing deep into non-existent lungs. Instead of drawing air, however, the blood began gushing from the Matriarch¡¯s wounds like a geyser, spraying into the skeleton¡¯s mouth with such force that it dug in its claws to keep from being blown off her back. The blood exploded out the back of the skeleton¡¯s skull like a waterfall against rocks, coating everything nearby in a thick layer of blood.

    The Matriarch staggered, her blood pressure suddenly dropping. What would have instantly exsanguinated a human only weakened the Matriarch. The skeleton¡¯s leaned forward again as if exhaling, allowing the blood geyser to cease. Then it ¡®inhaled¡¯ again, streaming blood from every scratch and cut into the skeleton¡¯s mouth.

    Jeremiah¡¯s focus was already being taxed with controlling the skeleton. He knew that losing it would mean the death of everyone, including him and his friends. But there was more to be done.

    He dug deep into reserves of strength he didn¡¯t know he had. He extended a hand toward the rotting corpse the Matriarch had thrown. The body stirred and pulled itself up, hands still clutching the shield and sword in its rigor mortis grip. At Jeremiah¡¯s will, the zombie heaved itself toward the door, stabbing its sword into the gap to impale goblins on the other side. Delilah recoiled in horror but did not question a source of aid. With the zombie¡¯s help, the door began to inch closed again.

    Jeremiah extended his will into the corridor beyond to those goblins who had just fallen under the zombie¡¯s blade. The fresh corpses sprang to life and began slashing and biting at their former companions. The pressure on the door ceased as bloodlust gave way to confusion and pain, and Delilah and the zombie heaved the door closed.

    Jeremiah was nearing his limit. He collapsed to his hands and knees. Controlling the red skeleton was like trying to hold a hurricane in his mind.

    The Matriarch had finally conceived a plan to deal with her attacker. She threw her back against a stone column, forcing it to move lest it be crushed by her bulk.

    The skeleton crawled around her body like a spider. In a moment, it was perched on her face where it immediately dug claws into her upper lip. It pulled away two huge bloody chunks, then inhaled blood straight from the ruined eyeball. The Matriarch bellowed in pain and fear. She swung wildly and managed to bash the skeleton off her face. It clattered along the ground, then dug its claws into the stone and sprang back toward her.

    Allison was struggling to her feet, looking on in shock. Her mouth worked wordlessly and her broken arm hung at her side. Jeremiah noticed her dazed expression and a small part of him was glad that he wasn¡¯t the only one to get battle shocked. ¡°Allison!¡± he called. ¡°Give it a weapon!¡±

    Her expression settled into one of grim comprehension at his words. She unhooked the axe from her belt and tossed it toward the skeleton as it sprinted toward the Matriarch. The skeleton caught the weapon without even a glance, then leapt over the Matriarch¡¯s grasping hand and latched onto her arm, whipping the axe into her elbow. The axe rose and fell, a blur of metal removing hunks of flesh and bone in moments.

    The Matriarch howled as her arm was shredded. She turned and shoulder charged a boulder, crushing the skeleton between her massive body and the stone. The skeleton disappeared under her girth. The Matriarch screamed as geysers of blood erupted from her wounds again, streaming toward the skeleton pinned against the rock. She slammed against it again and again even as its claws reached for her, scrabbling for purchase.

    At last, the skeleton dropped to the ground. The matriarch raised her elephantine foot and stomped, exploding the lower half of the skeleton in a splintery crunch of blood-soaked bones. The upper half had not yet been dissuaded and dug both claws deep into the flesh of the Matriarch¡¯s foot. The Matriarch yowled and brought her foot down again with a mighty crunch. The hurricane in Jeremiah¡¯s mind blew out like a candle.

    The Matriarch had no time to recover from her battle with the skeleton before Allison recommenced her attack. In a single motion, Allison scooped Delilah¡¯s broken spear off the floor and hurled it into the Matriarch¡¯s fleshy neck. Then she kicked up the axe the skeleton had dropped into her open hand and charged the Matriarch, screaming a desperate battle cry.

    The Matriarch grunted as Allison¡¯s axe sank into her knee, finally severing something critical. She pitched and fell forward, where Allison was already waiting.

    Allison caught the spear lodged in the Matriarch¡¯s neck as the creature fell and pushed it with all her remaining strength. The Matriarch¡¯s body followed the direction of her twisting neck and rolling onto her side. Allison yanked the spear free and thrust it deep into the Matriarch¡¯s wounded eye socket.

    The Matriarch¡¯s body went rigid. She seized Allison, trying to crush her armor in her grasp. Allison unleashed a litany of curses, and wrenched the spear, slicing it through whatever it had punctured deep inside the Matriarch¡¯s head. The Matriarch¡¯s body went limp and silent.

    Every goblin beyond the door began to scream. The corridor erupted in the sounds of battle, of feral violence, of fleeing feet back up the hallway and into the distance.

    There was quiet once more. But Jeremiah saw the darkness on Allison¡¯s face as she pulled herself free from the dead Matriarch¡¯s grasp. For him, the danger was graver than ever.

 Book 2, The Enchanters Rise, releases right here tomorrow!

    Book 1 Synopsis

    The primary character is Jeremiah Thorn, he¡¯s a kid that wanted to be important and was kicked out of his home, he ran away to become a mage. After failing in his tutelage with many, he got picked up by a Lich named Flusoh to learn Necromancy. Spent years doing that, and then was kicked out into the world to learn things the hard way.

    He learned that no one cares what his intentions are, he¡¯s a necromancer, and that¡¯s all they need to know.

    Jeremiah meets an adventuring party;

    Allison Allday: Soldier, disciplined, vibrant, natural teacher and sort of motherly figure

    Delilah Fortune: Half-elf, alchemist, lawyer, doctor, super ambitious and intelligent. Acts as a bridge between Jeremiah and the political and power workings happening around him.

    Bruno: Rogue extraordinaire. Brotherly figure to Jeremiah, acts as a mirror to the excesses and injustices that happen around the story and its setting.

    Jeremiah delves a dungeon with them, gets outed as a necromancer, and they proceed to put him on trial for being a necromancer. Mostly Allison saying that his very nature means he deserves to die, with Delilah being unsure, and Bruno being a bit more forgiving.

    They decide not to kill him, but Jeremiah wants his cut of the treasure, which they had already agreed to. So they take him to Dramir the Capital city, with some amount of bonding happening along the way.

    He stays with Delilah, they make a ton of money off the sale of loot, he proves himself useful in a very minor sense taking care of their house. The money Jeremiah receives from his cut is more than he¡¯s ever had in his life by a long shot.

    They go out drinking on his last night with them, and he has a good time until he is excluded from the stories Allison tells to her soldier friends. He sulks away into the night and encounters a large building fire. Fire brigades and bucket lines are working on it, and he joins them, but when they begin to hear shouts of people trapped inside Jeremiah creates skeletons to save the people.

    He¡¯s knocked out by Delilah, and wakes up in jail. He¡¯s being tried for the fact of being a necromancer, something that wasn¡¯t illegal specifically but a sham trial is forcing it along.

    While in jail he meets Vivica, a beautiful and mysterious elven girl. She displays conviction and determination and talks to him about ¡°irresponsible forgiveness¡± by not willing to fight against the people jailing him.

    She escapes by crushing her body between the bars of her cell, then rapidly healing via some mysterious power.

    Jeremiah is tried, defended by his friends, and found guilty. He pleads his case at sentencing that he¡¯d do it again too, because it was the right thing to do. He is sentenced to working, for free, to prove his value to the city and its people for a year and a day. If at the end of that time he fails to impress the judges of his trial, he will be executed. Delilah, his lawyer, is simultaneously and unexpectedly found guilty of knowingly aiding and abetting an necromancer. She will suffer permanent disbarment if he fails to prove himself.

    After some resistance from the city, Jeremiah finds himself working for Albert Dunsimmons, a farming magnate whose vast stable of horses has suffered a terrible plague. His lack of horses means his vast acreages might go unplowed and he would miss the planting season. Jeremiah ends up raising the horses as tireless zombies to get the work done in the otherwise impossible deadline Dunsimmons sets.

    More work follows helping farmers do manual labor jobs with corpses. Then conducting elaborate funerals, including one where a former teacher of Allison¡¯s fights in a ceremonial duel with Allison for the last time, having passed of old age and not having been felled in battle like he wanted.

    No feedback from the legal system. It becomes clear that they don¡¯t care. They¡¯re just letting Jeremiah be useful before they kill him. They¡¯re approached by Colonel Valemore, a military man in service to the Kingdom of Dramir. He says he has ¡°an opportunity for an opportunity¡±. Jeremiah says he¡¯ll think about it.

    Jeremiah is brought to a seedy bar by Bruno, who uses it as a way to illustrate to Jeremiah that what he¡¯s doing is a disruption that¡¯s taking work and money from the poor and passing it up the chain to the rich. Bruno understands why Jeremiah¡¯s doing it, he has to in order to survive, but he wants Jeremiah to understand what impact he¡¯s having, and to hopefully always have that in mind.

    Jeremiah and his group agree to the opportunity for an opportunity, which involves eliminating a bandit camp that¡¯s been causing trouble. There¡¯s a lot of preparation that happens montage style. Jeremiah and reader see what goes into the preparation and how important it is. Lots of money gets spent, highlighting that adventuring is impossibly expensive business. High risk high rewards. Jeremiah helps by utilizing a favor earned from someone he saved from the fire that got him jailed. A cartographer is able to get them access to a military intelligence map of the area they¡¯re investigating for the bandit camp. It proves very valuable in narrowing it down. Jeremiah learns the value of paying patronage to artists and specialists who can create customizable tools.

    They travel to the desert via carriage drawn by undead horses disguised as normal ones, thanks to patroning a theater company with costume designers.

    They find the bandit camp to be a fortress, very unusual and indicative of a greater level of organization. Jeremiah makes a comment about his undead being able to handle killing people in such an environment. The detached language he uses prompts a serious conversation between himself, Allison, and Bruno, about how difficult killing a person actually is, and how such intense situations don¡¯t leave a lot of time for figuring out who¡¯s bad and who¡¯s good. Emphasis is placed on people that might surrender to save their own skin. Jeremiah assures them it¡¯s not going to be a problem.

    They infiltrate the fortress at night, Bruno killing a bunch of people in their sleep. Jeremiah is shocked at the brutality but manages to barely keep it together. Jeremiah is set to guard a door while the group prepares, and a man enters. Jeremiah is expected to kill him, but freezes at the sight and is unable to act. The man is killed at the last moment by Bruno before an alarm can be raised.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    Jeremiah is left behind and self-loathes for a while, before recommitting to the cause in the face of his own self disgust and raising lots of undead to attack the fortress with his friends.

    Lot of killing, lot of danger, combat adventure etc etc.

    In the aftermath Jeremiah finds a man who died in a closet, hiding from his undead. He is suddenly hit by the fact that not everyone was scary bad bandits trying to fight, some were just torn apart and afraid. He has a panic attack, his friends are successful in soothing him to some extent and bringing him back down, but the ¡®Man in the Closet¡¯ remains a figure in his dreams and memories for the rest of the book and series.

    He recalls his old teacher talking about how normal people are rarely ever Evil ¡°With a capital E¡±. They tend to cap out at greedy jerks.

    They uncover a vast amount of treasure hoarded by the bandits, enough to make them filthy rich. Jeremiah has a moment of weakness and says he¡¯s going to remain at the fortress instead of returning with his friends. He feels like the bondage he¡¯s been placed under isn¡¯t going to be lifted no matter what he does, and that he¡¯s just being used for short term profit. He fights with Delilah over this fact, but she eventually convinces him to stay with ¡®his family¡¯, the only people who are going to care about him. It¡¯s made mention that ¡®alone in isolated areas¡¯ is what happens to most necromancers.

    Jeremiah returns with them. Delilah has a happy breakdown because she technically owns the fortress and land, and is made into a minor noble because of it, a big step in her dream of being elected Queen. They are invited to a fancy celebration party in her honor.

    Bruno explains to Jeremiah that their vast fortune is now theoretical money, not money held in their hands. Its in a bank and on paper. Neither of them really understand what that means or its significance.

    Jeremiah is brought to a poor seamstress for new clothes for the party. Some explanations about how she can do just as good for much less than bigger stores, has newer ideas, and the money will mean more to her (hooray small business essentially)

    They go to the party and Jeremiah is confronted by a sketchy dude who wants to learn necromancy. Jeremiah has a PTSD moment when the man is vaguely threatening and loses his temper, threatening the man in a very public and graphic display.

    They are brought before King Hector and learn about a barbarian incursion in the northern city of Nosirin that¡¯s being led by a single powerful leader. A picture of the leader is passed around and its revealed to be Vivica, the woman Jeremiah met in jail. He lets everyone know about this. The king is revealed to have had a previous relationship with Allison in some unknown regard, but enough that they¡¯re familiar with each other and possibly flirtatious. Jeremiah is being sent north to reinforce Nosirin with his friends as an act that will get him out from under the thumb of Dramir.

    At home Allison and Delilah have a huge fight about whether Allison not trying to get in touch with the king on Jeremiah¡¯s behalf was a wrong. Delilah says she was scared of not being remembered and afraid of the answer, Allison says she had no reason to believe the king would remember her or even care about their problems. They eventually are able to see each other¡¯s points of view, and accept them, if not agree with them.

    They go to Nosirin together, an attack by the barbarians against the city happens almost immediately. Jeremiah is sent to raise zombie soldiers prepared by the city. Its discovered a lot of these people might have been prisoners and were executed to make more reliable soldiers. Jeremiah resurrects far more zombies than he could previously hold in his mind at a time.

    The barbarians surround the city and surprise the offenders by catapulting their soldiers over the wall with giants, its discovered that Vivica has given them the same ability to regenerate, and many survive being thrown. They cause havok and the city¡¯s defenses are quickly routed. The undead have no appreciable impact on the battle.

    They retreat to the cast at the center of the city. Jeremiah is told to cover the retreat of the soldiers using the undead. Jeremiah misunderstands the orders and tells the undead to abandon their positions and start attacking en masse. The order to retreat had not actually been given yet, and Jeremiah realizes his undead have been attacking friendly troops for several minutes, causing an unknown number of casualties. Jeremiah mentally severs his connection with the undead, destroying them.

    Colonel Valen taken Jeremiah aside and tells him that ¡°All men make mistakes. Great men make great mistakes.¡± But he¡¯s not very nice about it. He reveals to Jeremiah the plan is to have leadership and VIPs evacuate the city while the soldiers launch a counter attack to cover them. Jeremiah negotiates making Allison a part of that retreat.

    Vivica approaches the castle via giant and asks the leader (King Growlack) to surrender. The king says no. Vivica reveals a vast number of POWs she has from the attack, including Allison. She has all of their throats cut simultaneously in a gruesome display and tells the King she can save them, if he just surrender. King says no.

    Jeremiah jumps forward and begs Vivica to save them. She¡¯s pleased to see him, but saddened he¡¯s on the wrong side. She offers to save them if Jeremiah let¡¯s her cut off his hands. Jeremiah says yes without hesitation, surprising Vivica. She is touched and off put by his response, and instead brands his arms and saves the POWs anyways, saying that he doesn¡¯t belong on that side.

    The leadership makes a retreat out of the city via secret tunnel. As they head back to Dramir, Jeremiah reveals to his friends he no longer wants to be a Necromancer. The responsibility is too great, and the costs are too high, and he just can¡¯t handle it. His friends are supportive of his decision.

    They are pursued by Vivica¡¯s army, who are empowered by her healing magic to be completely tireless in their pursuit. They make it back to Dramir and she lays siege to the city. They are able to throw only precious few soldiers over the walls, and they engage in sabotauge and raising support for Vivica within the city.

    King Hector is tempted to force Jeremiah to continue to work for the military, but keeps his promise and releases Jeremiah and Delilah from any legal responsibilities.

    Vivca visits Jeremiah in his home. She expresses that he has caused her to doubt her mission, both because of his believe in forgiveness and his willingness to help people. She wants to know which of them is right. She reveals to him her plans; She¡¯s going to ¡°knock down ever tower taller than the smallest hovel.¡± Essentially a war against the wealthy. When Jeremiah asks what comes next, she says she doesn¡¯t know. She explains that revolutions are always bloody, and she has the power to make it as painless as possible, but what replaces it is for greater minds than hers.

    Jeremiah develops a plan to stop her, though he¡¯s unsure if she¡¯s wrong. He calls a meeting of the wealthiest people in Dramir and wants to put together an unfathomably large bribe to hand her the ability to change how things work by making her the richest person in the world by an order of magnitude. Most disagree, some believe it¡¯s the right idea to stop bloodshed and that she¡¯ll take it anyways. Then there¡¯s an assassination attempt against the lot of them that barely fails and the agree.

    Jeremiah brings the bribe to Vivica, an impossible amount of money, outside the city. She takes offense to the idea, believing him to have been corrupted. She attacks him, and the ground falls out from under them, revealing a swarm of undead have been tunneling underneath. The undead pull Vivica under and bury her alive along with the money.

    Book concludes with Jeremiah going to lots of meetings about the events, Vivica and the money are gone forever with the undead still digging for at least one month, and Jeremiah turning down his teacher Flusoh to return for further teaching. Flusoh says power justifies its own use, and isn¡¯t offended Jeremiah doesn¡¯t want to, says we all go through it.

    Jeremiah is fully accepted into the family of Bruno, Allison, and Delilah, regardless of no longer being a necromancer.

 Chapter 1. Failure

    Chapter 1. Failure

    Inch by precious inch, Jeremiah Thorn failed. With a diamond tipped needle, he painstakingly scratched a hairsbreadth trough into the surface of the metal plate. It needed to be perfect¡ªperfect depth, perfect width, and perfectly in line with the spiderweb of swirling grooves he had already spent two weeks etching across the plate. The muscles in Jeremiah¡¯s back, already tight with stress, began to throb with the omen of imminent cramps.

    He put the needle down and stretched, willing his aching muscles to relax. It barely helped. Gus the toad sat perfectly still on the desk, sympathetically focusing as hard as he could.

    ¡°Just one more little notch buddy, and we¡¯ll be all done,¡± Jeremiah whispered to his familiar. The final step was a minuscule rod of gold that needed to be placed across the line he had just carved, but it required its own tiny resting place. He chose a new needle from the leather case unrolled beside him. Dozens of diamond tipped steel instruments, imperceptibly but critically different from each other. He chose a size 000 rasp pick, steadied himself, and dragged it once across the line. He took his pair of tweezers and gently lifted the tiny golden rod and placed it across the whisper of a scratch he had just made. Too shallow. He scratched one more time, and placed the golden rod again. Still too shallow.

    This should be easy, he thought. This  is  easy. Just a simple enchantment on a plate of metal. All he had to do was be perfect.

    ¡°Patience,¡± he reminded Gus. ¡°Now is where we are patient. We go extra slow, one scratch at a time, just like we¡¯ve been taught.¡±

    He scratched, he placed. He scratched, he placed. Hundreds of times, maybe thousands, he repeated the action. He felt the rasp wearing away at his resolve faster than it wore away the metal. After an hour he felt a stabbing pain in the joints of his finger and stopped. Rubbing the ache away he inspected his work. The notch looked no deeper now than when he had started.

    Enchanting was, without a doubt, an incredible pain in the ass. The act of precisely writing magic words, literally the physical symbols that were spoken when magic is cast, required exacting precision. Controlling the magic that flowed through the runes through slivers of material and modifying words only compounded the difficulty. His current enchantment would magically strengthen the material it was carved on if he touched a specific point.

    If Contact, Strengthen.

    ¡°Okay, so maybe that was overdoing it. We are still going to be patient, Gus, this is not me being impatient. But we can probably step things up a little bit right?¡±

    Gus did not comment.

    Jeremiah stretched again, shaking out his wrists. The tiny room had seemed to close in on him in the past hour. Simple wooden walls were obscured by countless tools, piles of practice plates, and elaborate diagrams drawn in chalk. The nearly-identical tools were organized in a system so convoluted that anyone would believe it to be pure chaos. But Jeremiah understood it, at least in part. That worried him.

    ¡°Patience,¡± he repeated. ¡°I am patient.¡±

    He scratched, he placed. Too shallow. He scratched twice, he placed. Too deep. Jeremiah froze, staring at the fleck of gold that shifted side to side in its cradle.

    ¡°Okay,¡± was all he said, and placed down his tools. There was a not fully ignorable urge to destroy the room and everything in it. Gus let out a single angry croak.

    Before he got to learn where his boiling frustration was taking him, he heard the slightest squeak of the door opening.

    His teacher, Thurok, stood in the doorway. Small for an orc, and with gray rather than greenish skin, his distinctive orcish tusks were elaborately carved with runes. Thurok was scowling at the hinges of the door, the whisper squeak seemingly capturing his displeasure above all else.

    ¡°Thorn,¡± he said, but didn¡¯t continue. Jeremiah waited as long as he could before giving a cough.

    ¡°Hmmm?¡± Thurok looked up like Jeremiah had just interrupted him, ¡°Show your work.¡±

    Jeremiah carried the square plate of metal across the room, the result of two weeks¡¯ backbreaking effort, and held it out to Thurok like an offering. Thurok hardly glanced at it.

    ¡°Nonfunctional. Rushed and sloppy. Depth control is¡­barely improved. Focus remains terrible.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir,¡± said Jeremiah. After nearly a year of similar feedback, any sense of expectation or disappointment had long since burned away. The fact that he¡¯d said Jeremiah had improved at all should have felt like winning a blue ribbon, but, awash in an ocean of the same criticisms, it left no impression. ¡°Any advice on how to more accurately nest the conduits and nodes?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Thurok. ¡°Do it better.¡±

    Jeremiah nodded. This was very much in line with Thurok¡¯s typical advice. ¡°Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,¡± he said. He didn¡¯t look at his teacher or his work, but gazed somewhere beyond Thurok¡¯s left elbow.

    ¡°Enchantment is as much an art form as it is a magical discipline,¡± Thurok said, not for the first time. ¡°It requires absolute, singular focus. Passion is meaningless, inspiration is meaningless. Only precision matters. The sooner you understand this, the sooner you will improve beyond the simplest enchantments.¡±

    ¡°I understand, sir, it¡¯s just¡­some precise specific guidance might help?¡± Jeremiah raised his gaze to Thurok¡¯s shoulder.

    Thurok recoiled at the request. ¡°You want me to do it for you? You will learn nothing. You must trust the process. It is the process that granted me the skills I have, the skills that enchanted your compatriot Allison¡¯s armor and countless other items wielded by great warriors and heroes.¡±

    ¡°So, no?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want my help, your weakness wants my answers. I will give you neither and starve your weakness that much more. One day you will thank me,¡± Thurok began to leave.

    ¡°Anything else today, sir?¡± asked Jeremiah. In exchange for his tuition, he worked in Thurok¡¯s enchanting workshop, helping with the menial tasks the orc considered him worthy of.

    ¡°File all receipts from today. Sharpen the picks and rasps. Sweep. Then, trace on paper ten times each the Strength rune, the Adhesion rune, the Decay rune, the If rune, the And rune, and the Delay rune. Once finished, you may depart.¡±

    It was another three hours and after dark before Jeremiah left Thurok the Enchanter¡¯s workshop. The shop took up the entire third floor of an expansive commercial building near the center of Dramir, the part of town that was composed of grandiose architecture and elaborate carved marble. Tonight, a late summer mist reduced the lantern lights to a soft glow.

    Jeremiah enjoyed the cool water on his skin as he made his way towards the residential quarter. It was a refreshing after being in the stuffy workshop since before sunup. After swearing off necromancy, Jeremiah had once again found himself with no appreciable talents. Enchanting had seemed like a reasonable pursuit¡ªhe could create magic equipment for his party to take on more dangerous (and lucrative) challenges, and repair or even sell gear to supplement their income. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    However, it had turned out that his aptitude for enchanting was the opposite of talent. His ¡®fractured but strong¡¯ focus, which had made him such an attractive student to his necromancy teacher so long ago, was ill-suited to the intensely precise task of enchanting. When his attention and patience wavered, as they inevitably did, the rune would be ruined and Jeremiah¡¯s status as a failure in Thurok¡¯s eyes¡ªand his own¡ªwould be even further cemented. It was a pattern that repeated itself week after week.

    Why he continued in this thankless endeavor, even he wasn¡¯t sure. Thurok allowed him to keep the small payment whenever he recharged an existing enchantment for a customer, but those jobs were rare. Perhaps the truth was that he simply did not know what else he could do. Experienced mages were few and far between, even more so the ones willing to take on a student. It was only Jeremiah¡¯s reputation for magic in Dramir that had convinced Thurok to teach him, and surely that was all that kept the orc from expelling him now.

    Jeremiah passed the remains of an accountancy office that had burned down last month¡ªnot all discontents had been deterred by Vivica¡¯s defeat nearly a year ago. For a time, the immense loss of wealth among Dramir¡¯s elite following the end of the seige had served to reduce the wealth disparity between the richest and poorest of the city. The cost of goods plummeted as the nobles¡¯ need to eat overcame their business¡¯s need for money. There was even some social mobility, as some enterprising peasants carved opportunities out of the destabilization.

    However, the movement was short-lived. Within just a few changes of the season, money once again began flowing upwards, towards the pockets that were accustomed to it. In fact, the only change that seemed durable was the support for improvements in Dramir¡¯s poorest neighborhoods, many of which were being spearheaded by Delilah under Bruno¡¯s guidance. It seemed Vivica¡¯s seige had alerted many nobles to the threat of the populace within their very city, and they were keen to appear benign and charitable, at least publicly.

    As Jeremiah walked, the buildings shrunk from impressive monoliths to the familiar rows of terraced homes. He exchanged a few friendly nods, and there were even some smiles sprinkled in.

    ¡°How are you doing, Mr. Thorn?¡± asked a human man walking with his wife. His face was weather worn but pleasant.

    ¡°Doing fine, thank you,¡± said Jeremiah. He didn¡¯t recognize this man, but his wife pushed her husband onward with only a curt nod.

    It was a roll of the dice every evening. Often it was friendly nods or hellos, sometimes someone would call him the savior of the city, sometimes they¡¯d just hiss, ¡°Necromancer!¡± or epithets at him on their way by. Jeremiah was glad tonight was an easy one.

    Home, finally home. Jeremiah pushed open the door and the familiar smells wrapped around him like a hug. The lingering scents of Delilah¡¯s various experiments and the chemicals she used to clean them, which always gave Jeremiah a sensation of freshness; Allison¡¯s blade oils, which were inevitably left in the living room despite Delilah¡¯s protests, Bruno¡¯s pipe smoke mixing with whatever stew was simmering on the stove to create a rich aroma that made Jeremiah want to sink into the nearest soft surface and exist in that moment forever.

    Bruno was fully absorbed in a stack of papers at the kitchen table as Jeremiah dropped his bag near the foot of the stairs and threw himself onto the sofa. As he listened to the pops of the fire and the distant tinkling of Delilah working in her alchemy lab, that knot that had been threatening his shoulders finally began to loosen.

    ¡°Jay, can you tell me what this word is?¡± asked Bruno.

    Jeremiah extended a hand without lifting his head. ¡°Give.¡±

    Bruno had recently taken charge of many of Delilah¡¯s correspondences and minor bookkeeping. He still prowled the night, but something about the last year had sparked his curiosity into the vast and exciting world of paperwork. And ever since Jay¡¯s resolution to the Vivica incident, there was more paperwork than ever.

    It turned out losing most of the wealth of the nobility of Dramir below the bowels of the earth had earned them the ire of some very well-connected people. Searching for the treasure was now a crime, and even knowledge of the direction the undead had tunneled was a state secret, so many chose to express their displeasure through a never-ending stream of lawsuits against Jeremiah and his friends. Merely resisting the legal onslaught was draining the party¡¯s resources faster than they could replace them.

    Jeremiah squinted at the page Bruno handed him, angling it to read by the lantern light. ¡°¡®Acquiescence,¡¯¡± he said, ¡°it means¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, I know what it means,¡± said Bruno, snatching the page back. ¡°Just couldn''t read it. This guy''s handwriting is so sloppy.¡±

    It looked fine to Jeremiah, but perhaps he was used to old writings at this point. It was easier than deciphering enchanting runes, at any rate.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Allison?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Coming around the corner now,¡± said Bruno.

    Sure enough, Jeremiah heard Allison¡¯s voice a few moments later. Even her normal speaking voice tended to fill whatever space she was in, so it wasn¡¯t hard to make out what she was saying.

    ¡°Thank you very much for walking me to my door, Ophelia, I felt much safer,¡± said Allison from outside. ¡°I want you to practice your stances for tomorrow, okay? First and second. You can keep the trainer, and I¡¯ll see you¡­Ophelia, hun, do you need me to walk you home? Okay, it¡¯s the last I can do.¡± Jeremiah could hear the smile in her voice.

    Allison returned a few minutes later, hip checking the door open. Her arms were occupied with a variety of wooden training weapons, nicked, scarred, and pitted nearly to pieces. A suit of wooden lamellar armor, small enough to fit a child, was just as pocked with a thousand little lessons. She dropped the supplies in a heap by the door. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve got about forty five minutes before my next student. Just enough time to sit for a minute.¡±

    She plopped on the couch beside Jeremiah¡¯s head, her limbs going limp and her eyes falling closed.

    ¡°How¡¯s the latest warrior disciple?¡± asked Bruno, squinting at a new document.

    Allison responded without opening her eyes. ¡°Ophelia displays excellent grasp of foundational tenants and a dedication to practice. She has room to improve in authoritative action and decision making. A pleasure to teach.¡±

    ¡°At least it pays,¡± said Jeremiah. He reached up and squeezed Allison¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°I kind of¡­may be¡­discounting her tuition. Just a bit,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Would you stop doing that?¡± Bruno barked. ¡°We¡¯re trying to make ends meet, Al. You and Jay are barely making a pittance combined.¡±

    ¡°Eh, my business is my business,¡± said Allison. She still didn¡¯t open her eyes.

    ¡°Well, what are you pulling in lately?¡± Jeremiah asked Bruno.

    ¡°What I¡¯m ¡®pulling in¡¯ is intercepting all the damn assassination attempts against us,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Oh no, assassins,¡± said Allison. ¡°I¡¯d love an assassination attempt.¡±

    ¡°Jay and Delilah wouldn¡¯t, I can assure you,¡± said Bruno. ¡°So, you¡¯re welcome.¡±

    ¡°Are you looking for us to thank you for keeping us alive?¡± said Allison. Her eyes popped open, the audacity of the suggestion filling her weary veins with indignant fire. Her fingers curled into fists.

    ¡°Couldn''t hurt,¡± said Bruno. He was still leaning over the papers, but had gone eerily still at Allison¡¯s tone.

    Jeremiah sat up and put a hand on Allison''s fist, squeezing just gently enough to be felt. She exhaled, then her hand softened and opened. Then, in one smooth movement, she popped to her feet. ¡°Come on Jay, let¡¯s get some spear practice in!¡±

    Jeremiah shook his head. ¡°Promised Delilah I''d help in the lab.¡±

    Allison collapsed into the sofa again as though time rewound itself. ¡°You''re  always  helping Delilah in the lab.¡±

    ¡°She always needs help in the lab,¡± said Jeremiah with a shrug.

    ¡°She didn''t used to,¡± said Bruno. The tension had seeped out of his posture, now that the subject was ribbing Jeremiah.

    ¡°Well, she does now,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°She''s so busy with lawsuit stuff, she barely has time to boil a pot of water.¡± Jeremiah peeled himself off the couch, his muscles protesting every movement. But a promise was a promise.

 Chapter 2. The Burden

    Chapter 2. The Burden

    The stairs were a veritable mountain, but Jeremiah trudged up them one step at a time. The alchemy smells grew stronger as he reached the landing leading to the lab and his own bedroom. He knocked once on the laboratory door, and it sprung open.

    Delilah stood amidst a cloud of steam, her hair bound up in a great mess above goggles and a filter mask. ¡°Toad me,¡± she said, holding out an ungloved hand.

    ¡°Not even a ¡®hello¡¯?¡± asked Jeremiah, slipping past her. He grabbed his own apron and mask off the peg and put them on quickly. Whatever was in the air was starting to make his lips tingle.

    ¡°Hello Jay, where''s Gus?¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Here, here, here, calm down,¡± said Jeremiah. He produced Gus from beneath his apron. The toad wriggled in delight at the sight of Delilah, and settled to contented stillness in her hand.

    Delilah stroked Gus¡¯s back. ¡°Thaaaat¡¯s the stuff,¡± she said, visibly relaxing. ¡°I missed you, my little poison pal.¡± Gus echoed the sentiment with a low chirp.

    ¡°What are we on today?¡± asked Jeremiah, slipping some the elbow length gloves. He was sweating already. Delilah¡¯s lab had its own tropical climate.

    ¡°Two active decants, and one compounding,¡± said Delilah pointing to where Jeremiah¡¯s attention was needed.

    Jeremiah set to work. Delilah¡¯s lab had become a happy space for him over the months. He was glad to actually be useful instead of slaving away over stubborn metal plates that would never be good enough. Plus, she always seemed happy to see him, an experience that was notably absent from Thurok¡¯s workshop.

    As Jeremiah decanted one clear liquid into another, he spotted a few papers clumped together on a rare bare spot on the wooden tables. ¡°No paperwork in the lab,¡± he reminded Delilah in good humor.

    Delilah just grumbled in response.

    ¡°That bad, huh?¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°How¡¯s enchanting?¡± asked Delilah pointedly.

    ¡°Awful. I feel like I¡¯m not making any progress. Thurok has me practicing the same things over and over and over again,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Delilah held up a flask against the light. ¡°That is how one gets better at things.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s working,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°You¡¯re not special. Practice works for everyone else in the whole wide world. It works for you too,¡± said Delilah.

    Her dismissal of his frustrations stung. Everything about enchanting was hard for him. The attention to detail, the exacting nature of the work, the extreme single-mindedness of intention¡ªit was nothing like necromancy, where his mind could flow in a hundred different directions at once.

    ¡°How many runes do you know at this point?¡± asked Delilah. She had come to work closer to him, maybe sensing his hurt feelings.

    ¡°I know eight runes altogether,¡± said Jeremiah. He counted them off on his fingers. ¡°Decay, Strengthen, Adhere, Heat, Contact, And, If, and Pause.¡±

    ¡°How many runes are there?¡±

    ¡°Dozens, I think? I have no idea how big the list actually is, Thurok won¡¯t tell me. He just says to focus on the work in front of me and¡­what was it he said? ¡®Don¡¯t gaze at the horizon like a filthy poet.¡¯¡±

    Delilah snorted and set her flasks down quickly to keep from spilling them.

    ¡°Delilah, visitor!¡± called Bruno from downstairs.

    Delilah froze, her breath catching. Jeremiah could feel the tension radiating off of her. She¡¯d become practically traumatized to the sound of someone knocking on the door.

    ¡°Come on,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°maybe it¡¯s nothing.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, maybe,¡± said Delilah. She still hadn¡¯t moved.

    Jeremiah put down his beaker and grinned at her. ¡°I suppose we could hide up here forever. Just you, me, and Gus. We¡¯ll let Bruno do all the talking from now on, what do you say?¡±

    Finally, Delilah moved, fixing him with a look halfway between pleading and amused. A weak smile twitched her lips. ¡°Fun as that sounds, I need to always get the measure of who I¡¯m dealing with.¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s get down there before any real damage is done, shall we? I¡¯ll even let you hold Gus the whole time.¡±

    ?

    ?

    A gnome, smartly dressed beneath a black umbrella, waited on their doorstep. He had a bound collection of papers tucked under one arm.

    ¡°Lady Delilah Fortune?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Hey, Billipop.¡± Delilah held out her hand expectantly.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    ¡°Are you Lady Delilah Fortune?¡± he asked.

    ¡°You know my name, Bill.¡±

    Bill¡¯s gaze was steady. ¡°Rules are rules.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I am Lady Delilah Fortune,¡± Delilah said.

    ¡°Your presence, or the presence of your attorney, is requested before the Fourth Civil Court of Dramir in three weeks time to answer a charge of grand larceny and conspiracy.¡± Bill thrust the bundle of papers forward.

    ¡°Did you go through my mail as well?¡± said Delilah, accepting and thumbing through the bundle.

    ¡°Yes. I took the liberty of picking up your mail for you,¡± said Billipop.

    ¡°And is this  all  of our mail?¡± asked Delilah. There was a deadly threat in her voice.

    ¡°I was quite   thorough, Lady Fortune,¡± said Billipop.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Delilah. She turned and slammed the door in Billipop¡¯s face.

    ¡°Another lawsuit?¡± asked Allison, still in her spot on the couch.

    ¡°Yup,¡± said Delilah, dropping into a chair to peruse the papers.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t the King be able to protect us from stuff like this?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°King Hector has been instrumental in protecting us from everything he has authority over. We¡¯d likely have been hanged long ago without his help,¡± said Delilah. She had reached the end of the bundle and shook it as though more pages would fall out. ¡°That¡¯s it? There isn¡¯t even a proper case here. They¡¯re just trying to force us to pay more court fees and waste our time.¡±

    ¡°Is it working?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°Yes, dammit!¡± Delilah slammed the most recent delivery onto another stack of documents. ¡°We¡¯re getting picked apart like carrion. Between legal fees, settlements, and cases we actually  lose,  we¡¯re not exactly running in the black. The money from leasing the desert fortress isn¡¯t keeping up nearly as much as I had hoped.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t really pick up any more students,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Thurok pays what he pays,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°I know, I know.¡± said Delilah, ¡°I¡¯m not asking you guys to do more, I just¡­¡± She sighed. ¡°We need some way out from under this.¡± She retrieved Gus from her pocket and scratched between his eyes, lost in thought.

    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t hog the toad,¡± said Allison. She made her way from the couch and stroked Gus¡¯s back.

    ¡°One for you, Jay,¡± said Delilah, tossing an envelope to him.

    Jeremiah opened and quickly skimmed the letter, ¡°Necromancer¡­husband sick¡­one last¡­please¡­burial¡­¡± He threw it into the fire. Those letters still came from time to time. The thought of charging for his services crossed his mind, but he shooed it away. That wasn¡¯t what he was anymore.

    ¡°What do you mean ¡®out from under it?¡¯¡± he asked as the letter burned.

    ¡°What I mean is, it¡¯s not a matter of money.¡± Delilah gestured at the piles, ¡°These¡­ vultures  will just keep coming. They¡¯re probably employing people specifically to make our lives miserable. We need influence, or someone with influence on our side, to make this crap stop.¡±

    ¡°And again, the king?¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Hector has a lot of constraints being an elected king,¡± said Allison. ¡°I mean, not a LOT of constraints, but limitations on what he can make people do.¡± Allison started pawing at the papers as well, sinking into the chair beside Delilah¡¯s.

    Bruno shot a conspiratorial smirk to Jeremiah at Allison¡¯s use of the monarch¡¯s first name.

    Jeremiah stared into the fire as they fell into silence. He felt useless in the face of the bureaucratic wrath that threatened to overwhelm them. At least when he was a necromancer, his name could invoke some respect, or at least fear. Now it felt like Delilah was fighting all their battles and there was nothing he could do to help.

    ¡°Wait a minute, wait a minute!¡± Allison leapt to her feet, a letter in hand. As she scanned the paper, a bright smile spread across her face. ¡°How would we feel about a little adventuring?¡±

    ¡°Gods, yes!¡± said Delilah. Bruno and Jeremiah laughed at her outburst. ¡°No, I¡¯m serious,¡± she said. ¡°I am so sick of paperwork. Let''s nearly die somewhere!¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re in luck cause I¡¯ve got a newly discovered tomb that¡¯s claimed one life already. Due to¨Cget this¨Ca  trap. ¡± Allison waved the letter enticingly.

    The others oohed and aahed.

    ¡°Any other information?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Just a rough location. Mountains, a few days from here. A buddy of mine from the Scout Corp sent this, says it¡¯s thus far unexplored. No payment up front, but we have rights to whatever we find inside. I say we take it. Any objections?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s do it,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°I just need to file some delay requests,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°I¡¯ll let Thurok know. I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll care, honestly,¡± said Jeremiah.

    There was an awkward silence. Glances were exchanged around the table, none for Jeremiah.

    ¡°What?¡± he asked, a foreboding settling on him.

    ¡°It¡¯s just,¡± Delilah began, ¡°well, now that you¡¯re not a necromancer, we need to consider if it¡¯s safe to bring you adventuring.¡± She was still holding Gus and began petting the toad again reflexively, looking to Bruno and Allison for confirmation.

    ¡°Sorry Jay,¡± said Bruno, ¡°but you¡¯re a liability. You can definitely help prepare if you want.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re a part of this adventuring party, so you¡¯ll still be getting a cut no matter what,¡± Delilah quickly added.

    Bruno¡¯s face screwed up at that for just a moment. ¡°Er, yeah. I suppose. But delving a trapped tomb? Unless you¡¯ve learned enough enchanting to actually help us¡­¡±

    Jeremiah tried to speak, but found he had no words. He was offended, hurt, sad, and angry, all in the span of a few seconds.

    ¡°Jay is coming with us,¡± said Allison. The room went deadly quiet.

    ¡°Something we need to discuss?¡± asked Bruno, his eyebrows raised.

    ¡°Jay is coming with us,¡± Allison said again.

    Bruno scowled at her. ¡°So our discussion about safety? Cohesion? The whole ¡®Jay isn¡¯t ready¡¯ conversation? All of that is just, what? No longer relevant?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s ready,¡± Allison said. ¡°We¡¯ve been training his spear fighting. He¡¯s proficient. He¡¯s ready.¡±

    ¡°Al, he¡¯s not your squire,¡± said Bruno, ¡°this isn¡¯t going to be ¡®practice¡¯. We¡¯d be babysitting him.¡± Bruno barked a laugh at the absurdity.

    ¡°If Allison says I¡¯m ready¡­¡± Jeremiah started. He wasn¡¯t fully convinced himself. Combat training with Allison had been a bright spot in his days over the last year, but he still couldn¡¯t actually hit her if she didn¡¯t let him.

    ¡°Shut up, Jay, this is about not getting someone killed!¡± Bruno turned towards him, apparently a safer target for a raised voice than Allison, Jeremiah noted.

    Delilah tried a softer tact. ¡°Allison, I want Jay to come too. But without his necromancy, he¡¯s only a passable fighter. You said so yourself. There will be other missions.¡±

    ¡°I can still cast acid and do the poison fog,¡± Jeremiah said.

    ¡°Wait, why? Is that not necromancy?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°No magic!¡± Allison shouted, silencing everyone. She moved in front of Jeremiah and looked him in the eye. ¡°No casting from you, at all. All those ¡®gray area¡¯ spells, I know where those lead.¡±

    Bruno crossed his arms. ¡°No magic, no Jay,¡±

    Allison glared at Bruno. ¡°It¡¯s my operation. I say he goes,¡± she growled.

    Bruno didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°What rank do you think you¡¯re pulling exactly?¡±

    Jeremiah had to do something. The fracturing cohesion was more than he could stand. He put a hand on Allison¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s okay Allison, I¡¯m not worth all this.¡±

    He might as well have tried to placate a wall. Allison didn¡¯t take her eyes off Bruno, who didn¡¯t take his eyes off her. Some secret battle of wills was going on, one which he and Delilah seemed specifically excluded from.

    Bruno broke first. He glanced away and rubbed his eyes. ¡°Fine. He comes. But if he needs to use magic, he can use magic.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s life or death,¡± said Allison, still glaring.

    ¡°It¡¯s a dungeon! It¡¯s already¨C¡± Bruno stopped himself and sighed. ¡°Fine. Jay, no offense, but don¡¯t get us killed, alright?¡±

    ¡°Deal,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Great,¡± Bruno mumbled.

    ¡°Hold up,¡± Allison said. She outstretched her hand towards Bruno. He hesitated for a long moment, then grabbed her by the wrist. She returned the grip, and they quickly released.

    "Alright! This is officially an operation! We have three days to prepare. Terrain is mountainous and likely cold. Jay, I want you securing provisions. Bruno, prep for spelunking and trap breaking. Delilah, you¡­uhh.¡± Allison looked down at the pile of papers. "You deal with everything I don''t understand!"

    ¡°Allison, please, I¡¯m only one woman,'' said Delilah. She dodged Allison¡¯s swat with practiced ease.

 Chapter 3. The Tomb

    Chapter 3. The Tomb

    "Everyone, this is Christopher," said Jeremiah. He patted the gray donkey on the rump. Its ears went flat against his head and he let out a hateful bray. Christopher had a set of cloth saddlebags draped over his hindquarters, just a few days away from being called threadbare.

    "You''re not even joking," said Bruno, staring aghast at the donkey. "You really expect us to carry all of our stuff on a single donkey."

    "Actually," started Jeremiah, reaching into the saddlebags, "due to budget constraints, everyone gets to help." He pulled out four large, empty backpacks. Each was in a similar state to the saddlebags.

    "We have our own packs," said Allison.

    "Not big enough,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Everyone has to help carry food, supplies, and treasure on the way back. Hopefully.¡±

    "Is he friendly?" Delilah asked, circling the donkey. Christopher snapped his teeth at her the moment she was close enough.

    "Very no," said Jeremiah.

    "Jay, what the hell," said Bruno, taking his backpack.

    "Hey, you guys gave me a budget, and I stuck to it. At the very least, you each get a walking stick I found in the woods, free of charge.¡± He presented them with four long thin sticks, mostly stripped of branch fragments.

    ¡°What are all these marks?¡± asked Bruno. His finger traced a swirling pattern burned into the leather of the backpack.

    ¡°That was my attempt at a Lightness rune,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°it would have made the backpacks and anything inside weigh a tenth as much.¡±

    ¡°Would have?¡± asked Allison.

    Jeremiah squirmed. He really would have preferred they had not noticed the rune. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s, uh, nonfunctional. What it basically says is, ¡®Lightness And Pause¡¯.¡±

    ¡°But in crazy magic god language?¡± asked Bruno

    ¡°In crazy magic god language, yes,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Why ¡®Pause¡¯?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°To place a limiter on the magical effect,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°so it just becomes lighter but doesn¡¯t fly away or set on fire from magical energy with nowhere to go.¡±

    ¡°Looks like it didn¡¯t work,¡± said Bruno. He scratched some of the scorched leather, then picked out the black from under his fingernail.

    ¡°Everything about it didn¡¯t work, I know,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°I don¡¯t know why. I mean, I have some guesses as to why. Somehow the enchantment isn¡¯t targeting the backpack, or maybe the Pause is too abrupt? Yeah, I think the Pause is the problem. I bet it¡¯s lighter, but only infinitesimally so¡­I mean it would be lighter if it had worked. So I guess there¡¯s a problem of specificity? Or I wrote it wrong? I think I need to-¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t we used to have a carriage? A nice one?¡± interrupted Allison.

    ¡°Long since sold,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Hey, if you guys wanted better provisions you wouldn¡¯t have budgeted so much to Bruno,¡± said Jay. He was grateful to move on from his failed rune.

    ¡°You don¡¯t skimp on a dungeon delve,¡± said Bruno, ¡°especially not one with traps. Rather eat dry biscuits for a week than get killed by poison darts.¡±

    ¡°Funny you should say that,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Betrayer!¡± came a shout from right beside them. Jeremiah jumped away, his ears ringing. An old dwarven woman, bedraggled and flea-bitten, had crept up to Jeremiah and shouted nearly in his face. ¡°You buried that poor girl. She was to lift us up! You and your evil buried a girl alive. Do you think of her Necromancer?! Think of dirt filling her lungs?¡±

    Jeremiah, still reeling, didn¡¯t have a response. Delilah stepped between him and the woman, taking the full brunt of the finger wagging and cursing.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am, I understand your frustration, but I promise that woman was only going to bring ruin to this city. No one was going to be lifted up,¡± said Delilah..

    ¡°Says the fancy half-elf, stepping out from her summer home, no doubt!¡± the dwarven woman looked Delilah up and down with disdain, eyes lingering on the slight points of Delilah¡¯s ears.

    Bruno stepped in then, putting an arm around the woman¡¯s shoulders and turning her away. They walk a few steps together while he spoke softly. ¡°Now, Domma Tooka, that¡¯s no way to behave. To a stranger in the street no less. Where¡¯s ser Tooka? Young Miska and Molly? They been going to school?¡±

    The woman¡¯s face was a mask of rage, but as she stared up at Bruno it cracked to unfathomable sorrow and she burst into tears, leaning into him. Bruno wrapped her in a hug as she wailed in Dwarvish. Jeremiah saw Bruno stiffen as she spoke. Bruno looked up and gestured for everyone to move on without him. Jeremiah, Allison, and Delilah started toward the gates of Dramir, pulling Christopher behind them.

    ¡°You okay?¡± Delilah asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said automatically. ¡° Dirt filling her lungs,¡±  repeated over and over again in his head.

    Bruno caught up with them at the gate. Jeremiah wasn¡¯t sure, but he thought he saw the shine of tear tracks on Bruno¡¯s cheeks.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Tear tracks in blood, trapped in a closet, torn to pieces

    Jeremiah shook his head. The image had come back all at once out of nowhere.

    ¡°Friend of yours?¡± Allison asked Bruno.

    Bruno¡¯s face was hard as stone. ¡°We didn¡¯t bury nearly enough of this place.¡±

    For the next several days, they walked, camped, and walked some more. Just as city and farmland gave way to forest, so did the forest slowly give way to hills and rocks. A lone mountain appeared on the horizon, its peak a frequent stop for scouts to take the lay of the land. The tomb they sought was around the other side, slightly off the well-traveled path. As they approached, cold air and a slate gray sky lent the landscape an austere and barren beauty.

    The climb itself wasn¡¯t arduous, even after they left the main scouts¡¯ path, but soon a ferocious wind picked up, one that sliced through the cheap winter coats they had procured for the journey. Flecks of frost sparkled on the bare rocks like scattered diamonds. The stones leached heat from their hands and as the sun begun to set, even the brief respites from the wind were little comfort.

    ¡°Can we stop?¡± Delilah yelled over the gale. ¡°It¡¯s too cold, and we still don¡¯t know where the tomb is.¡±

    ¡°If we find the entrance we can shelter in it,¡± said Bruno, shivering.

    ¡°Allison?¡± Delilah asked, looking for a decision to be made.

    ¡°We need to keep searching,¡± said Allison. ¡°I can feel weather coming in, and we don¡¯t have the equipment to handle a proper storm.¡±

    They split up and began combing the mountainside. Alison¡¯s contact had only given them the near useless direction of ¡®somewhere in the middle¡¯. Jeremiah crawled over rocks and peeked under boulders. Moisture clinging to stone was painfully cold to the touch and dampened his clothing on contact.

    ¡°Found it!¡± Bruno called from further up the mountain. They converged on him to see a cave entrance settled deep into a crevasse.

    ¡°Bruno, scout it out,¡± said Allison. Jeremiah¡¯s relief was suddenly tempered by the reminder that someone had died here recently, to a trap of all things.

    While the others huddled together for warmth, Bruno stepped away and shed his coat. Delilah quickly snatched it up. They watched him creep along the crevasse in only his blacks and begin a slow and methodical search of the cave. He touched the ground and walls, blew into hairline cracks, and touched the roof of the cave mouth with his magic bow. Jeremiah wasn¡¯t sure how he could withstand the cold totally exposed like that. He huddled closer to Allison and Delilah as he watched.

    Finally, Bruno turned and called back to them. ¡°Entrance is clear,¡± he said. ¡°Better still, there¡¯s a warm air current here.¡±

    At his proclamation, the others bustled and stumbled past each other in their mad dash to get inside. Sure enough, the moment they stepped inside the temperature jumped. It was heavenly.

    ¡°Move around and warm up,¡± said Allison. ¡°I¡¯ll get the gear bags.¡±

    Soon they had established a nearly-comfortable camp in the tunnel. Armor and weapons of various sorts lay in neat piles. Delilah had her own area for a small mountain of bottles, boxes, bags, vials, pots, tins, flasks, syringes, and poultices. Jeremiah made himself useful by helping Allison strap her enchanted armor into place, then carefully wrapped Delilah in the tangle of leather strips that offered both protection and storage for her supplies. He smirked at her transformation from slender half-elf to brown cocoon with a head sticking out.

    Then it was time to don his own gear. He was the proud owner of a full set of studded leather armor, a leather cap, short spear, and round wooden shield. He hadn¡¯t worn it outside of practice with Allison, but he liked how safe it made him feel.

    ¡°How do I look?¡± he asked the others.

    ¡°Like a damn town guard,¡± said Bruno, ¡°Al, come on. Are you sure about¡­this?¡± Bruno gestured towards Jeremiah and the armor suddenly felt like a costume a clown would wear.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Allison. She was adjusting her weapons and spared barely a glance in Bruno¡¯s direction.

    Bruno gave a disgusted grunt and went back to inspecting his gear. But that grunt, that single sound, was enough to call everything Jeremiah felt into question.

    ¡°What am I doing here?¡±  he thought.  ¡°Bruno¡¯s right, I can¡¯t help. Without necromancy, I¡¯m just a liability¡­and there¡¯s nothing stopping me. I could just be a necromancer again.¡±

    The option was suddenly there, beckoning and simple. He¡¯d be the party mage, able to reinforce their numbers with fearless undead minions, or at least able to spray acid or fill the halls with poisonous gas.

    The fantasy consumed him for a moment. He¡¯d make short work of the dungeon, and they¡¯d return to Dramir with plenty of treasure to pay their legal fees. His friends would agree to keep his change of heart a secret, only revealing his power when they were adventuring. He was tempted to decide right then and there, the words to announce his choice to his friends already forming in his mind.

    Then, for some reason, he glanced towards Allison and found her already looking at him. Her stoic gaze reminded him of her promise, and reminded him why he made it. The man in the closet, just another enemy brutally killed by Jeremiah¡¯s minions but somehow so much more. The allies who were struck down by Jeremiah¡¯s horde when he¡¯d made a careless mistake during a chaotic battle. Vivica, swallowed up by the earth into the arms of the reaching undead¡ªno, he didn¡¯t want that power, that responsibility. It was too much.

    Jeremiah tamped down his shame and doubt as hard as he could. He was an enchanter now, and even if he wasn¡¯t very good at it, he could still help in other ways. He just had to find them.

    ¡°Are we ready?¡± Bruno heaved his pack onto his shoulders. It was bulging against its straps. His magic bow was slung across his back and short blades were secured all across his body. Throwing swords, Bruno had called them.

    ¡°Packed a bit extra, Bruno?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°A lot extra,¡± said Bruno. ¡°We¡¯re going to be dealing with traps, and traps are a pain in the ass, especially in old places like this, where mechanisms and triggers will be degraded. Maybe you¡¯re lucky and it just breaks. Or maybe you¡¯re unlucky and it goes off because you disturbed the air for the first time in generations, and that was just enough a release the rotten tripwire.¡±

    ¡°Is that what happened the time you took that spear fusillade right in the chest?¡± asked Delilah wryly.

    ¡°No, that was carelessness and stupidity,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Luckily it was me that set it off and that got out of the worst of it, as opposed to you, who would have probably tried to argue with it.¡±

    ¡°Formation,¡± said Allison. They gathered at the entrance to the tomb. ¡°Eyes on, everyone.¡± Bruno squeezed two drops of Delilah¡¯s Night Eyes formula into his eyes, then handed the vial to Allison and headed into the dungeon.

    Delilah took the drops after Allison and tipped Jeremiah¡¯s head back to administer them. ¡°Are you okay?¡± she asked, softly enough the others wouldn¡¯t hear.

    Trust Delilah to know when he was feeling off. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good. Just a little nervous.¡± Jeremiah winced and blinked away the excess liquid. His vision swam for a minute before the shadows of the cave revealed their secrets, albeit only in black and white. Then they followed Allison into the dark.

 Chapter 4. Diplomacy and Persuasion

    Chapter 4. Diplomacy and Persuasion

    Jeremiah stayed just behind Allison, his round shield and short spear ready to link up with her kite shield and form a solid defense at a moment¡¯s notice.

    ¡°Unless I¡¯m supposed to do something else,¡±  he thought. He tried to analyze her stance, then decided it best not to think about it too hard. She had her spear out now. If she switched to her axe or sword he¡¯d try to adjust accordingly.

    At first glance, the tomb entrance was just a cave as any other. Dank, dark, and deceptively slippery floors where slime mold grew in patches. Then Bruno pointed out that the walls, though rough, shared a certain repeated texture, and the dimensions of the tunnels were too uniform to be natural. ¡°Someone dug all this out,¡± he concluded.

    ¡°That¡¯s an awful lot of work,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°I wonder why?¡­.Oh.¡±

    Emblazoned across a wall ahead, filling the entire space from floor to ceiling, were the words:

    BEYOND LIES SER GEROME FIDELIOUS

    MASTER OF ORDER

    KING OF CASTIGATION

    KNOWER OF THE UNKNOWABLE

    ENTER AND BE DAM

    ¡°¡®And be dam¡¯?¡± read Allison.

    ¡°Do you think they meant ¡®damned¡¯?¡± asked Delilah.

    Bruno shrugged, the epitaph not concerning him.

    Ahead, just at the limit of his night eyes¡¯ range, Jeremiah could see Bruno creeping forward. He would occasionally stop and listen, but mostly he kept his gaze moving, sweeping their surroundings. ¡°Trap remains,¡± he said, indicating a shape sticking out of the floor near the wall. The party froze while he inspected it. ¡°Clear. Set off ages ago.¡±

    They continued onwards. Jeremiah eyed the remains as he passed. A rusted iron piton had been driven into the stone, with a corroded loop near the head. It resembled a giant needle punching into solid rock. He saw another on the other side of the cave, in just as poor condition.

    ¡°Trip line,¡± whispered Delilah. Jeremiah could see how a cord could connect both pitons, but couldn¡¯t identify a mechanism beyond that.

    ¡°What¡¯d it do?¡± he asked.

    Delilah pointed toward the far wall of the cave. After a minute of staring, Jeremiah spotted a tiny hole drilled into the rock. It didn¡¯t tell him much.

    ¡°Got a body,¡± Bruno called. They stopped again while Bruno searched the immediate area. ¡°We¡¯re good. Come take a look,¡± he said, waving them forward.

    As they advanced, Jeremiah made out the unnaturally still shape of a human lying on the cave floor. It was the body of a man wearing the light leather armor of the Dramir Scout Corps and a metal cap. His cap had been smashed flat, and his neck was twisted at an unnatural angle. Dried blood and a clear fluid was crusted around his ears.

    ¡°Can anyone tell me what happened here and what we might keep an eye out for?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°Broken neck,¡± Delilah said without hesitation, ¡°smashed actually. Blow from overhead. Death would have been instant.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Doctor,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Jay, why don¡¯t you tell us what may have done this?¡± There was an edge to Bruno¡¯s voice. He wanted to prove something.

    Jeremiah started to think out loud. ¡°An overhead blow, but not much room to swing something overhead. At least, not that hard, right?¡±

    ¡°You tell me,¡± said Bruno, giving him nothing.

    ¡°Bruno¡­¡± Allison warned.

    ¡°It¡¯s a learning experience! We¡¯re giving chances now, right? Jeremiah, tell me what killed him, and where it is,¡± said Bruno.

    Jeremiah¡¯s temper flared. Whatever Bruno was trying to prove, Jeremiah wanted to prove him wrong. ¡°Alright, I don¡¯t see signs of fighting here, no blood splatter or bodies, and there are no other wounds on him. And we just saw one trap¡­¡±

    Jeremiah started scanning the low cave ceiling, but there wasn¡¯t anything obvious. Just the normal jags of rock and lichen¡­wait. In the stone, like an impossible crack, was a nearly invisible perfect circle, about a foot in diameter. It was right over the body of the dead man. He reached his spear up and wedged the tip into the crack. It betrayed just a tiny fraction of movement.

    ¡°This is dropped on him, didn¡¯t it? Or maybe it moved aside and something fell through a hole? No it had to drop, there¡¯s nowhere for it to move. This circle thing crushed him,¡± Jeremiah said with finality.

    ¡°Why?¡± asked Bruno

    That was trickier. Why would it fall and hit this man? Clearly he set off the trap. Delilah had said death was instantaneous. That gave him an idea. He grabbed the body by the leg and hauled it roughly aside with the callousness of a man too familiar with death.

    ¡°Jay!¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Aha!¡± said Jeremiah. Beneath the body, he spotted a similar flaw in the stonework to the one in the ceiling, a matching circle. ¡°He stepped on  this !¡± he said, and jabbed the circle with the butt of his spear.

    The circle in the floor shifted a tiny amount, there was a click, and a column of stone dropped from the ceiling. Everyone leapt away from the deafening crash as the column smashed into the circle on the floor. It was as tall as the room and must have weighed thousands of pounds.

    Bruno snatched Jeremiah¡¯s spear from his hands. ¡°Why would you do that!¡±

    ¡°Sorry!¡± Jeremiah held up his hands. ¡°No one was near the trigger, I thought it''d be safe.¡± He was somewhere between sheepish and defensive. After all, he¡¯d been right. Whatever game Bruno was trying to play, Jeremiah had won it.

    ¡°It is  never  safe to set off a trap,¡± Bruno said. ¡°Whoever built the trap wants it to be triggered, and we don¡¯t give that person what they want. But yes, that¡¯s what happened to him. Good job.¡± He returned Jeremiah¡¯s spear with some reluctance.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    As they dusted themselves off, the stone column began to slowly raise back up into the ceiling. There was a soft metal clinking that could be heard coming from the stone above.

    ¡°How the hell does this thing work?¡± asked Jeremiah, ¡°What¡¯s pulling it back up? And how? Where are the mechanisms for all this? Is it a magic trap?¡± Jeremiah hadn¡¯t seen any signs of enchantment anywhere.

    ¡°Those are the professional level questions,¡± said Bruno, ¡°and what you can learn from their answers is indispensable.¡±

    ¡°Care to enlighten us then? I¡¯m pretty curious myself,¡± said Delilah.

    Bruno paced as he answered. ¡°We can¡¯t hear machinery. That means the mechanism is far away or magic. The column showed signs of tool work, and I hear the clink of chains from the hole, likely what holds up the column. So we can assume it¡¯s mechanical. It''s most likely powered by a waterwheel of some kind. Since we¡¯re high up, that means the mechanisms likely go very far down, accessing some sort of ground water. All that means we¡¯re in for a deep descent.¡±

    ¡°So it could be powered by magic?¡± asked Jeremiah hopefully. Even Thurok would be impressed by an enchanted trap.

    ¡°Doubtful,¡± said Bruno. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t go through all the trouble of a magic trap just to do something mundane like drop a rock. Magic traps are awful.¡±

    ¡°What do they do?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Anything,¡± said Bruno, sneering at the ceiling.

    ¡°What¡¯s so indispensable about all that? We were going to find out we had a long walk anyways,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know yet,¡± Bruno said. ¡°But we may need it later, so we pay attention.¡± He knelt on the ground and extracted a thin shiv of metal from his rolled pack. He unfolded it, over and over again until it was as long as he was tall. Slipping it into the crack around the trigger, he began probing around the circle, searching for something. Finally, he bent the shiv into a narrow arch and slipped the other end into the opposite of the circle. For several long minutes, he continued to feed the wire around the trigger, fiddling occasionally. Jeremiah was certain the column would drop at any second to crush Bruno¡¯s hands. Finally, though, Bruno had snaked the wire all the way beneath the trigger, so that the two ends of the wire stood straight up, still on either side of the circle. He pulled a tiny box from his pack and snapped it around the two ends, connecting them into a loop.

    ¡°Lift,¡± he said to Allison, stepping away. He retrieved a basic pry bar from his bag and waited. Allison gripped the loop in both gauntleted hands and pulled upward as hard as she could, straining against an invisible weight. The stone circle slowly rose above the floor. Only a couple of inches of stone made up the surface of the trigger, and as Allison pulled, she revealed a solid pole of rusty metal beneath. Bruno shoved the pry bar beneath the stone facade and wedged it against the metal pole. He wrenched, and the metal broke free from whatever mechanisms it was connected to below. Allison stumbled backwards as the stone trigger came free, leaving a perfectly round hole in the cave floor.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± said Bruno.

    The cave began descending quickly, the slime-slick stone making for treacherous and careful climbing. Delilah and Bruno finally deployed a piton and rope to shimmy down a particularly steep slope.

    ¡°Check,¡± Bruno said, tapping a wall. There was a sequence of long white claw marks in the stone. Everyone went on high alert, proceeding at a snail¡¯s pace. They rounded one more corner before they were hit with the smell. Jeremiah choked back a wave of nausea at the staggering stink of rot and offal. ¡°Stay here,¡± said Bruno and disappeared into the darkness beyond.

    He wasn¡¯t gone long, ¡°Troll up ahead, looks like he¡¯s living here, but the cave goes deeper beyond.¡±

    ¡°We can handle a troll,¡± said Allison, hefting her spear. ¡°Delilah, can you make fire or acid so we can stop it from regenerating?¡± Trolls were nearly immortal if you didn¡¯t burn or melt their wounds shut, rapidly regenerating even lost limbs in a matter of moments.

    ¡°I can, but honestly Jay is a better source of acid,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°No. Magic,¡± said Allison.

    Delilah dug into her armor and produced some small clay pots, no larger than apples, and a wax paper envelope containing a white paste. ¡°I¡¯ve got five acid pots and a coating that will ignite a weapon its applied to. But¡­can I try something?¡± Allison nodded for her to continue. ¡°Alright everyone, just follow me. Keep a pot and be ready to fight if this doesn¡¯t work out.

    Delilah took the lead and slowly led them through the increasing stench and into a wider chamber of the cave. It had a carpet of splintered bones and a huge pile of animal skins in a corner made a bed. Jeremiah could see wriggling maggots in the bed from across the room and his stomach turned again. There was a totem of neatly arranged skulls on one side of the room, scratched into the wall above it were primitive depictions of gigantic creatures devouring smaller ones.

    Sitting beside the bed, nearly blending in with the cave walls, was the troll. It was gnawing on something with only its bumpy green back exposed to them. Even sitting, it was taller than Allison by at least two heads.

    ¡°Bruno, sneak up and see if you can cut one of its arms off,¡± whispered Allison. Bruno nodded, but Delilah stopped him.

    ¡°Ahem?¡± she called.

    The troll started, sprang to its feet, and let out a roar of outrage. It loomed twice as tall as any of them now, its bellowing mouth showing row after row of razor sharp teeth. Its knuckles reached the ground while standing, and were tipped with long boney claws. Growling, the troll sniffed the air frantically with a long pointed nose, pawing at the bed pile. It came away with a huge club, most of a tree trunk really, with a wicked looking blade of metal tied to the end, like an enormous scythe. Next it hefted a line of logs wrapped together as an improvised tower shield.

    "You didn''t mention those," Allison said to Bruno.

    Bruno drew a pair of swords. ¡°News to me!"

    Delilah stepped forward and bellowed. ¡°Graaaaaaaaaguguuuuuuuugaaaaaa!¡±

    The troll raised its head and glared at her. It still held the weapon at the ready, but its posture relaxed ever so slightly. ¡°Doooommuuuukaaaarrrrtoooooogaaaa,¡± it said.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me,¡± said Bruno. Jeremiah shushed him.

    Delilah continued. ¡°Chaaaaa mmmmaaagoooo d-d-daaaaahruuuuuy. Umm, ta-taaaaarooooofeeeefaaaaaaa!¡± She pointed to the exit that would lead them further into the cave, to the group as a whole, and then to Allison¡¯s weapons. The troll gave a malicious toothy grin, and began advancing on them, shield interposed and weapon held high.

    ¡°Not working!¡± yelled Allison, trying to force herself in front of Delilah. Delilah stopped her again, and threw an acid pot at the ground by the troll¡¯s feet. The little green specks flicked onto the troll¡¯s knobby toes and singed its skin. The troll winced but stopped its advance.

    ¡°Ciiiiiidaaaaaaaa,¡± said Delilah, pointing at the other pots. ¡°Gangaganga ciiiiidaaaaaa.¡±

    The troll squinted at her. ¡°Ciiiiidaaaaaa?¡±

    ¡°Shit,¡± Delilah muttered. She started snapping her fingers, trying to think. ¡°Fiiiishaaaafiss daaaaa?¡±

    ¡°Ciiiiiillllddaaaaaaa?¡± the troll seemed to suggest.

    ¡°Ah, yes! Ciiiiillllddaaaaaaa!¡± said Delilah.

    The troll growled, weighing its options. Suddenly it pointed back at the goat it had been chewing to shreds and stomped its foot, brandishing the scythe. ¡°Bangkada ro?¡±

    ¡°Duro,¡± said Delilah.

    That seemed to satisfy the troll. It backed up to the wall and scooped the goat up again, never taking its eyes off the intruders. It chewed its meal as it watched them leave.

    ¡°You speak giant?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Only enough to tell a troll we¡¯re not worth the trouble,¡± Delilah said. ¡°Seemed worth knowing. Like how to turn down a gnome¡¯s dinner invitation, or tell a dwarf they¡¯re wrong without offending anyone. Pretty important in diplomatic matters.¡±

    Allison glanced back toward the trolls lair. ¡°I wonder if I could recruit him? He seemed awfully reasonable. I¡¯d get a huge bonus for signing up a troll."

    "Put a pin in that, but yes, he was very reasonable," agreed Delilah.

 Chapter 5. Guardians

    Chapter 5. Guardians

    As they continued further down, moisture began to condense on the stone in tiny motes of water. In the motes lived even tinier fish, sparkling with a green or blue phosphorescence. It was like traveling through a tunnel of stars, albeit even more slowly than usual as Bruno took the added beauty to be a guarantee of further traps, and Delilah stopped every few feet to take samples. Jeremiah didn¡¯t mind. After the troll¡¯s lair, the air in the tunnel was fresh and pleasant. He took the time to admire the effect, wondering if the fish had been a natural part of the cave system or were added by whoever installed the traps.

    Even Bruno¡¯s most painstaking search yielded no hazards. They continued along the tunnel until it opened onto a huge cavern. A steep and narrow descent, like a natural staircase, led from where they stood down to to a pool of water¡ªnearly a lake¡ªthat stretched across the cavern. No fish illuminated this place, and Jeremiah found himself missing them. The pool was of unknowable depth, its surface a dark mirror that had stood undisturbed for an age. On the far side of the cavern, an opening in the wall indicated their way forward.

    "What are those things along the walls?" Bruno asked. He gestured to dozens of large stone rectangles surrounding of the pool of water. They were unadorned, merely slabs of rock leaned side by side against the walls.

    "Architecture?" ventured Delilah.

    ¡°No chance," said Allison. She picked a loose stone from the cave floor and hefted it in her hand for a moment, eyeing the slabs. Then with a grunt, she hurled the stone across the cavern. It landed with a  plunk  in the center of the still pool, disappearing below the surface.

    Ripples from the stone spread slowly over that mirror surface, concentric rings emanating outward. Watching them filled Jeremiah with an inexplicable sense of dread.

    It took nearly a minute for the first ripples to reach the slabs, tiny waves lapping against the stone. Then, everything happened at once.

    The cavern filled with the grinding of stone on stone. Jeremiah, his eyes fixed on the nearest slab, gasped as the front of it, which he now recognized as the lid of a coffin, slid aside to reveal a gaunt humanoid figure. Its flesh was withered and taught, and scraps of bandages hung over its limbs, long since rotted away. Around its neck was a rusted iron collar with four protruding spikes, rising like stalagmites around its face. No bandages remained on its face, only blackened skin which still held the features it had had in life. The hint of humanity remaining only made it worse when the figure raised its head with a wrench, staring blindly at Jeremiah.

    ¡°Those are mummies,¡± said Jeremiah. He tightened his grip on his spear as his heart thudded in his chest. He was about to be in a fight without magic. His mind briefly brushed against memories of blood and dead men, but his revulsion at his own cowardice gave him focus. "I will not fail my friends again. ¡±

    The water churned as dozens of mummies lurched into the pool at once, each beginning to make their way towards the adventurers huddled at the cavern entrance.

    "Is a mummy a zombie, or is there something different about these we should know?" Allison asked. She made her way to the front of the group, hoisting her shield and sword and bracing against a sturdy boulder.

    "They''re people who choose to become undead through ritual magic. They''ll be stronger and tougher than regular zombies, and the bandages are usually alchemically treated to act as armor," said Jeremiah.

    "Tips?" Bruno asked. The first mummies had reached the foot of the stone staircase and were beginning the steep climb. Aside from the splashing and shuffling of their movements, they were eerily silent.

    "Cut them apart. The flesh is treated in the creation process though, so it''ll be tough," said Jeremiah.

    Allison switched to her axe then turned and pointed at Jeremiah. "What do you do?"

    "I poke?"

    "You poke. Bruno with me, that crap around their necks is an ancient form of armor, hopefully it''ll be too rusted to help. Delilah, keep them from swarming us." The closest mummies were only a few paces away now, their eyeless gaze fixed on Allison.

    "Should we retreat to the tunnel? Limit their number?" Delilah asked, rummaging through her various pockets.

    "You remember the bandit fortress? The hallways were like charnel houses. I want room to swing and maneuver," Allison answered. Three glass bottles hurtled overhead from back line and crashed open on the rocks nearest the water, covering the base of the stairs with a pearlescent oil. The mummies that tried to climb them could find no purchase and toppled back into the water.

    The first mummies reached Allison, arms outstretched. Allison swung her axe with a bellow, connecting just above the neck armor. The tines on the collar shattered, but stopped the blow from cleaving the mummies head in half. Allison swore, kicked the mummy in the chest as its hands reached for her face, sending it stumbling backwards into the mummy behind it. Despite Delilah¡¯s oil hazard, the stairs were already growing crowded. The first mummy came within range of Allison again and she swung once more. This time her axe easily parted its head, and the mummy fell, limp.

    Bruno darted into the opening left by the felled mummy and his swords found vulnerable targets before the creatures could react¡ªhands, arms, and feet were severed by his twin blades, and then he was gone, flitting down the stones towards the mummies climbing out of the water, maiming as he went but never lingering long enough to be a target.

    "Ready?" Delilah asked Jeremiah as several mummies closed in on their position. She shifted her grip towards the butt of her spear and stood just behind Jeremiah, who was positioned behind Allison.

    "I poke," he said, like it was a holy mantra.

    "Then let''s poke!" Delilah reached past Allison to thrust into the head of a mummy further down on the rocks, lodging in its skull. The mummy, undeterred, tried to wrench the spear free.

    "It''s like stabbing a log,¡± said Delilah. She braced her feet and pushed backwards. The mummy lost balance off the side of the rocks, falling away from the spear to the water below. It disappeared briefly below the surface, then Jeremiah watched it clamber to its feet to begin the long journey anew.

    "Pick it up!" yelled Allison. She swung her axe in great arcs as the mummies reached her and battered them back with shield bashes. But despite her strength, the mummies would not be felled in a single hit. Thanks to Bruno¡¯s attacks, many were missing limbs, but with the neck armor there was little he could do to thin their numbers and they were beginning to crowd Allison.

    A small group of mummies reached Allison at once. She stunned two of them in a single swing of her axe, but a third was lurking in the blind spot beneath her shield. Jeremiah spotted it, steeled himself, then raised his spear and poked.

    The spear stuck barely an inch into the mummy''s neck. He poked again, still to no effect. The mummy stood and swung a hardened fist into Allison''s shield, denting the metal with its unnatural strength. Allison staggered from the unexpected force of the blow, but managed to keep her footing.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Jeremiah poked again, but this time shoved against the mummy with all his might. It teetered for a moment, then fell backwards, tumbling down the rocks.

    He stared, his spear still outstretched as the mummy fell. ¡°I did it? I did it!¡±

    "Now do it faster and better!" Allison shouted. She hacked at one mummy while kicking another away, then brought her axe down on a third as it reached past her towards Jeremiah.

    Below, Bruno struggled to continue his dance of attacks and retreats, but his options were growing limited. One heavy fist clipped his shoulder as he darted past, sending him spinning towards the pool below. He struck out mid-spin to lodge a sword into the chest of another mummy, slowing his momentum to catch his balance. The mummy didn¡¯t even notice the blow however, and surged upwards with its fellows, taking the sword with it.

    "Al, we need to move," said Bruno, switching his remaining sword to his right hand.

    ¡°Right. Fall back!" Allison commanded. As she raised her shield to cover Jeremiah¡¯s and Delilah¡¯s retreat, a mummy lunged forward, seized her ankle, and pulled. Allison fell flat on the rocks as her foot was yanked out from under her. In a moment a pile of mummies were upon her, and a dozen fists that could smash bone began hammering down. Her non-magical shield was reduced to splinters in moments.

    "Allison!" Jeremiah cried.

    "I''m okay!" Allison yelled back over the din of fists pounding on metal, "the armor is too strong, they can''t break it!" Blow after blow rattled her magic armor, without leaving so much as a dent. She dropped her axe¡ªthere was no room to swing it anyway¡ªand pulled a dagger, jabbing the mummies with the weapon and raking them with her clawed gauntlets to try and create enough of an opening to escape.

    ¡°Eyes up, Jay!¡± Delilah¡¯s voice in his ear made Jeremiah jump. He regripped his spear and stared in horror at the horde approaching. The mummies that were not busy mauling Allison were flowing past her like water around a stone, bearing down on Jeremiah and Delilah as though spurred to fresh energy by the newly available targets.

    Bruno rushed towards Allison and hacked at the mummies. His sword sliced through flesh and sinew, but they remained undeterred. Sidestepping a swipe by a passing mummy, he snatched Allison''s discarded axe and retreated to Jeremiah''s side. Bruno handed his remaining throwing blade to Jeremiah. "Gonna need you to do more than poke, Jay," said Bruno. He hefted the axe and swung it down onto the crown of a mummy, cracking the skull in half.

    Jeremiah held the sword like it was a cactus. The weight was strange, it was short, it felt clumsy in his hands. The prospect of attacking meant putting himself within reach of danger, and one of Allison''s biggest lessons with the spear was how to stay out of it.

    The shriek of metal on stone rang through the cavern, accompanied by Allison¡¯s shouts. Jeremiah searched for her among the mummies, and for one heart-stopping moment he couldn¡¯t spot her. But then¡ªthere, near the bottom of the stairs. They were dragging downwards, had nearly reached the water. Allison was swearing and kicking at the mummies to little effect. As her feet touched the water, she drew her longsword and heaved it towards her friends on the stairs above her. Moments later, she was sinking into the pool, dragged towards the very center, thrashing uselessly at the mummies clinging to her as her armor took on water. And then she was gone, disappeared beneath the surface in a riot of frothing water.

    "We need a plan! Now!" Bruno shouted. He and the others retreated to the entrance of the cavern while the rest of the mummies climbed towards them. Meanwhile, the pool was already returning to its mirror-like stillness.

    Delilah threw a hefty sack down onto the rocks below. It burst apart, sending thousands of metal foil strips across the surface of the water, where they began to dance and hiss white smoke like a rolling morning fog. ¡°Knock them into the water,¡± said Delilah. ¡°Allison, if you can hear me¡ªdon¡¯t come up!¡±

    No sooner had Delilah spoken then the white fog began to glow and pop with thousands of tiny flames. The hiss from the water became deafening, and despite its size, the cool cavern began to grow warmer.

    Bruno closed the distance to the horde and kicked a mummy hard, sending it tumbling over the side and into the burning water. When it emerged again, the countless strips covering its body had ignited with blinding intensity. The strips burned into the mummy¡¯s preserved flesh until that too was alight, and the mummy went up in an inferno.

    Jeremiah picked another mummy ascending the slippery rocks and shield checked it, driving it backwards. The mummy slipped over the edge, but grabbed onto Jeremiah¡¯s shield. The weight of the undead threatened to pull him over too, and Jeremiah fumbled at the shield¡¯s straps as he fought for balance. Delilah¡¯s arms wrapped around him as he finally managed to unlatch the buckle. The mummy fell away to the flames below, carrying Jeremiah¡¯s shield with it.

    The heat was becoming intolerable now, the brilliance of the flames searing Jeremiah¡¯s vision. But the mummies kept coming. ¡°Get back to the tunnel!¡± he shouted.

    ¡°We have to get Allison,¡± said Delilah. Her spear impaled a mummy, but it was buoyed by its comrades and she couldn¡¯t push it to the edge.

    ¡°We¡¯re getting overrun, fall back,¡± yelled Jeremiah. A mummy grabbed at his arm, powerful fingers closing on leather armor but mercifully missing Jeremiah¡¯s flesh. The leather came away like clay in its hands.

    Reluctantly they retreated towards the tunnel, Bruno taking the rear guard with great sweeping swings of Allison¡¯s axe. The remaining dozen mummies followed, clumping together to fit through the entrance. Bruno made his stand there, with Delilah and Jeremiah falling in to help. Killing the mummies with weapons was nearly impossible without Allison, but the three of them together could at least hold the line.

    Behind the mummies, the heat in the cavern was increasing. The flames on the water grew to such heights that Jeremiah was blinded to look towards them.

    Suddenly, one of the rear mummies¡¯ bandages was alight, and that white-hot fire was nearly upon them. With a shout, Delilah grabbed her friends and hauled them back up the tunnel as fast as she could, away from the undead.

    For a moment, the mummies started to surge forward, victorious. But the triumph was short-lived. A rancid burning wind swept through the tunnel, and that flame enveloped the entire group of undead instantly. The mummies were transformed into a just a wall of white fire roaring like a dragon of legend.

    Delilah kept pulling them away, and Jeremiah let himself be pulled. Even from the distance of fifty paces, his face burned with the heat of the fire.

    ¡°She¡¯s still in there!¡± said Bruno. ¡°We¡¯ve got to get through!¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t!¡± said Delilah. ¡°You have no idea how hot that is, it¡¯ll burn your skin off. I know, I¡¯m sorry. But we have to wait.¡±

    Minutes passed like hours until finally the flames subsided enough to be passable. Jeremiah and his friends rushed into the cavern. It was like entering an oven. The fire over the water had burned out, but Allison was nowhere to be seen.

    ¡°Get in there! Find her!¡± said Bruno. The three of them leaped down into the black water. Jeremiah threw himself towards the center of the pool, where he had last seen Allison go under.

    The bottom of the pool, only ankle deep near the edges of the cavern, dropped out near the center. Jeremiah dove, eyes straining in the sudden darkness after so much light, reaching frantically and haphazardly. He resurfaced for air, then dove again. She had to be here. And again.

    Jeremiah¡¯s knuckles grazed something metal, and he seized it. It was heavy, nearly impossible to move, let alone swim with. He used it to pull himself down to the bottom, wrapped his arms around the thing, screwed up all his strength, and kicked off against the floor as hard as he could towards the surface.

    Allison popped out of the water and took in a great coughing gasp of air. She started swimming to shallower waters, carrying Jeremiah now as much as he carried her. ¡°It¡¯s safe now?¡± she choked.

    ¡°She yet lives!¡± cheered Bruno. He splashed towards them.

    ¡°What the-how long can you hold your breath for?¡± asked Jeremiah. He and Bruno wrapped Allison in a relieved hug.

    ¡°Long time,¡± gasped Allison. ¡°Very long time.¡± She gulped the air greedily.

    ¡°Anyone need medical attention?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°My eyes are killing me,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Mine too,¡± said Bruno, ¡°and I think I¡¯m the first person to get a sunburn underground.¡±

 Chapter 6. Timing

    Chapter 6. Timing

    Deeper and deeper, they descended into the mountain. At times Jeremiah thought they¡¯d see daylight and exit out the other side by way of some as-of-yet undiscovered cave. But each time they should have been nearing the limits of the mountain¡¯s body, they would find a switch back and go down deeper still.

    ¡°We must be below the mountain by now,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Just below,¡± confirmed Delilah. ¡°But I¡¯m so confused about these tunnels. Clearly they were dug out, but why is it so empty? A single trap near the entrance and nothing else?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering that too,¡± said Bruno. ¡°From that fancy epitaph at the entrance, I thought this place would be chock full of nonsense. Instead it¡¯s just a long, boring walk.¡± He was, of course, making the walk even longer and more boring by continuing to diligently inspect every surface of the tunnels, despite their barrenness of any objects of interest.

    More clues appeared after another hour of trudging. All at once, the roughly hewn cave walls gave way to uniform, level surfaces. Further ahead still, ceramic tile began to appear on the floor, caked with dust and grime but smooth and thoughtfully laid. The walls showed the beginnings of carved pillars, and even some sketches of artistic reliefs.

    They caught up to Bruno who was carefully inspecting an overhang of stone with a mirage of a grinning face carved into it. ¡°They never finished,¡± he said. ¡°Looks like they dug all the way down and had just started fancying the place up. I¡¯m guessing the farther down we go, the more finished it¡¯ll get. I suppose the trap at the beginning was just a security measure.¡±

    ¡°That trap ever end up telling you anything?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Yes actually,¡± said Bruno prodding at the eyes of the relief. ¡°It says to me that we''re likely done with traps. I¡¯ll keep looking, of course, but I won''t bet on finding any more."

    "An unfinished dungeon¡ªis that typical?" asked Jeremiah. He traced a faint swirl carved in the wall.

    "Extremely," said Delilah. "Most dungeons are either repurposed structures, or naturally formed cave systems. The creation of a dungeon is a huge investment of time and resources. The expertise and manpower to create them is hard to find and maintain as well. They tend to be made at the whims of men who are averse to good investments or project planning. So it just becomes a money pit till the patron either dies or loses interest."

    "So¡­why make them?" asked Jeremiah. He was becoming cognizant of the sheer amount of rock that must have been moved to reach this far into the mountain.

    Delilah laughed. "Cause they¡¯re nuts. Or they¡¯re tyrants without access to a banking system, so they need alternative security to protect their wealth."

    "Tyrants don''t have bank accounts, huh?" Asked Bruno. He gave the relief a friendly pat on the cheek before moving on.

    "Well¡­tyranny has come a long way since then," said Delilah, a flicker of disapproval crossing her face.

    As they continued, the decor grew more and more ornate. One wall was dominated by an vast tile mosaic, flanked on either side by carved pillars, spiraling like twisted taffy. The mosaic depicted a scene of a woman lying supine on an altar, surrounded by six tall figures. More striking, though, was the enormous human face depicted overhead, its mouth stretched open as though preparing to swallow the scene below. The expressions of the woman and the figures were devoid of emotion

    Bruno inspected the mosaic, then reached up to press his thumbnail into the eyes of the gaping face. Out popped two small glassy stones, each the size of a pinky nail. They flashed with brilliance when Bruno held them up to lantern light. ¡°Diamonds.¡± From the body of the woman on the altar he popped a sizable scarlet stone. ¡°Ruby, nice one. Whoever was bankrolling this place spared no expense.¡±

    "Honestly surprised that wasn¡¯t trapped," said Allison, prodding a loose mosaic tile.

    "First of all, jinx," said Bruno. "Second of all, it was supposed to be." He poked at the spot where the diamonds were removed, there was a tiny hole that disappeared deeper into the wall. "Bet if you fished around in there, you''d find a poison dart or something."

    The hallway took a sharp right, leading to a T junction¡ªthe first choice of directions they¡¯d encountered since entering the dungeon, Jeremiah realized.

    "Okay, this I don''t like," Bruno said, peering around the corner.

    "What do you see?" asked Allison.

    "Trap finding is as much about intuition as it is perception,¡± said Bruno. He crouched in the intersecting hallway, running his hands over the large flagstones of the floor. ¡°You begin to get a feel for where traps are going to be. This is weird. The floor here is too smooth, and look¡ªit¡¯s been worn away.¡±

    Jeremiah craned his neck to see over Allison¡¯s shoulder. The center of the intersecting hallway bowed downward, as though something passing had a smooth groove behind. "Should we look out for a giant rolling boulder?" he asked.

    Bruno chuckled. "Those are a myth. Huge pain in the ass to make a rock that big into a sphere and hoist it up. You''re better off just smelting an iron ball and release that down a ramp. Break everyone''s legs in a dungeon and you''ve probably won."

    Delilah shoved past Jeremiah and Allison. who started doing something he had never seen before. She leaned into the hall, and her ears began to move. It was subtle, but they angled and rotated just a little. Jeremiah stifled a laugh. It made her look like a cat.

    "Something''s coming," she said, and Jeremiah¡¯s humor evaporated. They scrambled back around the corner with the mosaic and set up for combat, Allison taking the point position. The cave rumbled. Jeremiah could feel it in his bones. The rumbling grew louder until he could make out a steady rhythm, like beats on a massive drum, so loud they rattled his teeth. His mind summoned an image of a giant marching towards them, relentless in its approach.

    The footsteps became near deafening. Jeremiah clung to his spear to resist the urge to cover his ears. Louder. Closer. Nearly here.

    Then, without changing tempo, they began to move away. It was almost indistinguishable at first, but gradually Jeremiah started to be able to hear his own thoughts again. After a few minutes, the footsteps faded beyond the limits of his perception.

    Without speaking, Bruno slipped away from them into the dark, silent as a bird on the glide. He was gone before anyone could object.

    "What do we do now?" asked Jeremiah.

    "We wait. He''ll be back," said Allison.

    They waited, continually at the ready. The sound of their breathing grew louder as the memory of the thundersteps faded. Then, without turning his head to look at her, Jeremiah told Delilah, ¡°You can wiggle your ears.¡±

    "Hush," she said.

    ¡°I won¡¯t, that''s too cute," said Jeremiah.

    "I saw too, that was super cute,¡± said Allison. ¡°I didn''t know you could do that.¡±

    "All elves can, shut up!" Delilah hissed. They went silent.

    "So, do they wiggle when you''re happy?¡± Jeremiah asked. Allison twitched and snorted, holding in a laugh.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Shh," Delilah shushed them again, but this time they could feel the threat in it. Moments later, Jeremiah detected the same escalating rumble as before. Once again it grew to nearly unbearable levels, once again it began to fade.

    Bruno whipped around the corner and was nearly murdered by his friends. "There¡¯s a giant stone man,¡± he said, hands raised at spear point. ¡°The hallway makes a big loop, and the stone man is just following it. There''s a door on the opposite side to us, halfway through the circuit. It¡¯s locked, but I think I can get it open before the stone man comes around.¡±

    "A man made of stone?¡± asked Allison. ¡°Is it alive? Can we just destroy it?"

    "No idea, it''s covered in markings," Bruno said. He shrugged and pushed the spear tips away.

    Recognition sparked in Jeremiah¡¯s brain. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a golem!¡±

    ¡°Let me guess¡ªthose are entirely harmless, right?" Allison said sarcastically.

    ¡°Nope! It¡¯s an elemental spirit bound to a body of enchanted stone. Very rare and difficult to make." Despite the danger, Jeremiah was excited to put his enchanting knowledge to use. ¡°Depending on the density of the stone used, they can be specially attuned to pick up minute vibrations, so they can be really effective guards.

    "Weaknesses?" asked Allison.

    "Uhh, smashing it with a magic hammer? Limited intuition and programming?" Jeremiah said. ¡°Like. they will react to threats and stuff, but just by chasing and attacking. They¡¯re not going to be able to follow advanced strategies.¡±

    "I mean, can you¡­I don''t know, turn it off or something?"

    "Probably, yes,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°That is, if you can convince it to lie down so I can work on it.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh,¡± said Allison. She drew and hefted her mace. ¡°How strong is this thing exactly?¡±

    "Strong enough that your armor isn¡¯t going to help much," said Jeremiah. ¡°The bodies of golems are magically strengthened rock, nothing can withstand them for long.¡±

    Allison returned her mace to its holster with a sigh. ¡°Alright, then. Options?" She looked to Delilah.

    "I have a few tricks, but certainly not any answers for something like that," Delilah said. She browsed her many pockets, frowning at them when no solutions appeared.

    Allison looked to Jeremiah next, who shrugged. "Got nothing,¡± he said.

    To Bruno. ¡±Avoid it altogether,¡± suggested Bruno. ¡°If we¡¯re patient, I can work on the door in spurts. This thing seems stuck on a circuit. So I work when it¡¯s leaving, I move when it¡¯s approaching, Work, move, repeat. When it''s unlocked, I¡¯ll come get you and we¡¯ll all go together.¡±

    The party digested the idea. ¡°Okay by me," said Allison finally, "but be conservative. This thing has been walking for centuries. You have all the time in the world."

    They waited by the mosaic as Bruno slipped away again. The deafening footsteps continued their cycle. Half an hour passed with no sign of Bruno. Jeremiah resisted the urge to steal a peek at the magical marvel each time the golem stomped by.

    At last Bruno returned, his face shining with sweat.

    "Alright, the door¡¯s unlocked. But I¡¯ll need everyone¡¯s help to open it, it''s stone and ridiculously heavy. We should wait until its as far away as from us as possible before we move, otherwise it¡¯s too risky it would detect you guys.¡±

    "That''s six minutes from its passing," said Delilah. ¡°Its loops are exactly twelve minutes each.¡±

    "You''ve been timing it?" asked Jeremiah. He wondered what it would be like to focus his attention on something for that long.

    "Some of us have better things to do than tease others about their superior physical abilities," said Delilah. She stared at Jeremiah, and her ears flicked.

    "I trust Delilah''s timing," said Allison. "We follow Bruno''s lead on her count."

    Bruno began tightening Allison''s armor while Jeremiah and Delilah walked back and forth. He tilted his head as he listened. "Jay, keep on your toes. Your heels are too heavy. Delilah, you¡¯re tinkling, clicking, and, I think, clunking. Ditch whatever is doing that.¡±

    Delilah brushed a black tarry paste onto the soles of Allison''s boots. It cured into a squishy film that deadened the sound of her footsteps to almost nothing. Everyone else got a lighter coating of the remnant.

    Each time the golem passed, their activities would still. Six minutes after each pass, Delilah would whisper, "Mark."

    They finished preparing. The golem passed. The thunderous steps grew quieter and then disappeared altogether.

    They waited, tense. Jeremiah became aware of the sounds of their breathing, of the sweat on his brow, of a growing ache spreading across his neck. He thought he heard Delilah take a breath, and his muscles jerked. But she didn¡¯t say anything.

    They were frozen on the verge of action. The moment was coming.

    "Mark," Delilah finally said, and they moved as one.

    The hallway was a blur. Jeremiah was utterly fixated on the sounds they made. He saw more signs of half finished doors and hallways only one or two feet deep into the wall. The hallway was large and twisted at odd, seemingly random angles. Jeremiah imagined this creature taking up the whole of it, shoulders a hair''s breadth from the wall, designed to be unavoidable.

    Finally they came to a grand stone entry. A solid stone door was ornately carved with images of a man standing before crowds of prostrate worshippers. He was wreathed in flame and flanked by impaled bodies. The door told Jeremiah everything he needed to know about the man it was built for¡ªa man who was both life and death, to be loved and feared, worshipped and obeyed. Jeremiah despised him.

    The sprout of metallic thorns on the seam of the door showed Bruno''s workspace. Silently, they arranged to push against the heavy door. Even the slightest rasp of Allison''s gauntlets made Jeremiah¡¯s heart race. He kept glancing back the way they¡¯d come, expecting at any moment something immense and terrible would come barreling around the corner like an avalanche.

    Once everyone was in position, Bruno counted them off on his fingers. They pushed.

    Jeremiah chewed the insides of his cheeks to keep from making noise while straining. Their faces reddened with the effort as they strained against the immense door. Slowly, it began to move, utterly silent. The door hung perfectly balanced on invisible hinges, and as they pushed, it slowly glided open.

    There was a rush of stale air from above them, Jeremiah looked up just in time to see the mouths of brass horns built into the ceiling, revealed by the moving door.

    "Oh," said Bruno.

    There was a blast of deafening trumpets. The door moved, and the brass horns bellowed as air rushed through them. It was a victorious announcement that the door was opening, likely audible throughout the entire dungeon.

    They could hear the footsteps then, a pulsing percussion accentuating the horns. It was fast, and growing louder.

    "Push!" Allison screamed. They threw themselves against the door with renewed might and urgency. The blaring trumpets sounded louder and louder the faster the door opened. Jeremiah could feel the ground shivering, he didn¡¯t dare look towards the bend in the hallway.

    Delilah thrust the point of her spear into the frame, levering it against the door. Allison grabbed on with her, the spear wood bending and groaning. Jeremiah followed suit with his own, Bruno aiding him. The earthquake grew louder. Jeremiah could hear Bruno hissing through his teeth, "I didn''t get us killed, I didn''t get us killed, I didn''t get us killed!"

    A sliver of space appeared beyond the door. ¡°Good enough, move!" yelled Allison. Her voice was nearly drowned out by the rapid approach of a juggernaut.

    Bruno slipped through first, followed by Jeremiah. Jeremiah felt his ribs flex as necessity forced the air from his lungs. Bruno grabbed his arm and yanked him through. Delilah¡¯s bulky padded armor compressed as she squeezed into the gap, then stuck fast.

    Jeremiah and Bruno each grabbed one of Delilah¡¯s arms and Allison pushed from behind. Then a flash of Allison¡¯s dagger and leather strips parted from her expert cut. Various glass and earthen containers fell from Delilah as Jeremiah and Bruno pulled. Jeremiah felt a pop as something gave in Delilah¡¯s wrist. Delilah screamed, but they kept pulling.

    Then she was through. Allison barreled after her, armor sparking as she ground against the stone. The thudding of the golem¡¯s approach reached a crescendo, matching the wild fury of Jeremiah¡¯s panicked heart. He thought he glimpsed a shadow fall across the hallway outside, then Allison was yelling, ¡°Close it, close it!¡± and he threw himself against the door and shoved with all his might.

    Jeremiah¡¯s senses were overwhelmed by thunder and panic, but somehow the door was moving. His eyes were screwed shut but he could feel the golem was right there, it was reaching for him, it was about to crush him and all his friends in a massive outstretched hand¡ªthen the door clicked shut and everything fell utterly silent.

 Chapter 7. Once in a Lifetime

    Chapter 7. Once in a Lifetime

    The silence rang in Jeremiah¡¯s ears. He could sense something ancient and powerful lurking on the other side of the door. Its very presence pressed against the stone slab like the sea against the belly of a ship, threatening to burst through.

    They collectively screamed as a blow of stone on stone rattled the door, echoing thunder around them. Dust and pebbles fell from the ceiling, but the door held.

    The blow came again.

    Again.

    Again.

    As the door continued to hold, Jeremiah let out a sigh of relief. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s getting through,¡± he said, between rolls of thunder.

    ¡°So we¡¯re trapped?¡± asked Delilah. Her armor was misshapen and lopsided and she was cradling her hand.

    ¡°Might eventually leave,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°¡®Might,¡¯¡± emphasized Bruno. He glared at the edges of the door like it had betrayed him.

    "Doesn''t hurt to stay positive. Focus,¡± said Allison. ¡°Delilah, your hand okay?"

    Delilah gently touched each of her fingers to her thumb one after the other. She hissed in pain when she tried to move the middle one. "Dislocated finger, and I think something in my wrist is broken."

    Bruno turned his attention from the door just in time to see Delilah yank her finger. There was a crunch as it popped back into place. The color drained from Bruno''s face, but he kept steady. "S-so¡­bandages?" he asked.

    "For now, yes," Delilah said. She bound her wrist with Allison''s help, grunting as she pulled the dressing tight.

    "This is not what I was expecting," said Jeremiah. With imminent death no longer looming and Delilah''s arm tended to, he had finally looked around the space. Beyond the elaborate vault-like door, with its damnable trumpet fanfare, the hallway continued as a blank and monotonous corridor. It was larger than the previous areas, but was bereft of any sign of decorative elements.

    Delilah lit their bullseye lantern and pointed it down the hall, illuminating smooth walls leading to a dead end. The beam revealed a huge stone plinth before the far wall.

    "That some kind of altar?" asked Bruno.

    "Get us closer and let''s find out. I don¡¯t like staying here," said Allison. The blows of stone golem¡¯s fists kept a steady rhythm against the door.

    Neither trap nor ornament stood between them and the mysterious object, though Bruno''s investigations of every pebble and crack grew more fastidious and frustrated the closer they got. Finally, they found themselves before the great block of marble stone. It was polished to a mirror shine all around, with elaborate gargoyle heads sneering down from the corners.

    Bruno orbited the object, inspecting a relief. It depicted a great funerary procession, a score of men carrying and leading a figure in repose, with crowds of mourners following behind. The features of every single person were carved with exquisite detail, down to the anguished faces of even the most obscured mourner. It was all the more astounding given the other three sides were completely blank.

    "It''s a tomb," Bruno finally concluded, singaling an all clear. ¡°This must be Ol¡¯ Mr Fidelious.¡±

    There was a pop from close behind that made Jeremiah jump. He spun to see a burning white light coming from a small sack in Delilah¡¯s hand. It cascaded white sparks in a fountain from the open drawstring top. She tossed it high up at a wall, where it stuck with a splat, casting soft light across the tomb.

    "Sticky lamp, new invention," said Delilah. ¡°Just trying it out.¡±

    The sticky lamp revealed a vaunted ceiling above them, stretching high into darkness. Etched into the walls around the tomb were the rough outlines of steps ascending up into bare rock.

    Allison gestured at their newly illuminated surroundings. ¡°What¡¯s with this place? Why is it so¡­half finished?"

    "I think it looks half finished because it  was  half finished," said Delilah. "Whoever this was, I''m guessing he had construction start while he was still alive. He must have made the golem too. Then he died, and the momentum of his tyranny ran out pretty fast. His followers just quit once they realized he was gone."

    "So our hopes of him being buried in a treasure vault with a king''s ransom¡­?¡± asked Bruno. He gazed forlornly at the big empty room, like he could just imagine great piles of treasure that should be there.

    Jeremiah slapped the tomb itself. "Well, he was buried in this, not in the room. Let''s crack it open."

    Bruno chuckled. "Not even a little shy about grave robbing huh?"

    Jeremiah laughed, louder than he intended, but the idea was just so amusing. "Do you have any idea how many treasures and trinkets I''ve pulled off of corpses? I never heard a single complaint from any of them. Crack this thing open and I''ll pop out his gold teeth with my bare hands."

    "Ew," said Allison.

    "That''s just awful.¡± Bruno grinned. ¡°I love it. Help me push."

    With a great effort, they pushed the stone lid of the tomb inch by grinding inch. When it finally crashed to the floor, dust blew around the room in an angry roiling cloud.

    Together, Jeremiah and his friends peered inside. Inside lay a skeleton, doubled over on itself, one foot resting against the side of the tomb. A pair of gold bracelets and anklets hung limp on its limbs, and a thick golden crown lay adjacent to the skull.

    "Looks like they just heaved him in," said Delilah.

    "Not with nothin though," said Bruno. He leaned in and pulled up a small chest, barely a footlocker, tucked in a corner at the foot of the tomb. ¡°Jay, grab those bangles and crown, would you?"

    Jeremiah climbed fully into the tomb and began wrestling the gold away from the skeleton. In the distance, the pounding on the door continued.

    Bruno decided the chest was without traps and levered it open. A small hoard of golden coins greeted him, shimmering in the sparking white light.

    "Thaaat''s what we like to see!" Bruno picked up a handful and let them tumble back into the chest with a satisfying metallic clatter. He paused, picked up a single coin, and tossed in his hand a few times. ¡°Ah shit. This is electrum.¡±

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Delilah and Allison groaned.

    "What''s that?" asked Jeremiah, as he carefully tucked the bangles into his bag.

    "A silver-gold mix. It¡¯s a pain in the ass ¡®cause the ratio varies, so no one takes them as is. Old stuff, these were made a long time ago," said Bruno, letting the coin drop into the box with diminished glee.

    "I can separate the gold," said Delilah, ¡°it just takes a long while, and I need to get the end product certified and stamped. Eats into the profit."

    ¡°Now this is weird,¡± said Jeremiah, holding up the crown. From a glance, it appeared to be little more than a wide band of gold meant to rest atop the wearer¡¯s head. The outside of the band itself was smooth and polished, but otherwise unadorned. The inside surface of the band, however, was studded with dark pink sapphires.

    Jeremiah handed the crown to Bruno. ¡°Why have the gems on the inside?¡± asked Bruno, inspecting the crown. ¡°No one can see them, and it¡¯d be damn uncomfortable¡­oh wow! These are nice, these are  really  nice!¡±

    ¡°Let me see,¡± said Delilah. She swiped for the crown a few times before Bruno let her have it. ¡°There¡¯s a coat of arms stamped in the gold,¡± she said, fishing a curved lens from her robes, ¡°it¡¯s¡­double fess invected on a kite. That¡¯s the Marquette family crest, actually. They¡¯re still around, in some form or another.¡±

    ¡°Well, they haven¡¯t been missing this stuff,¡± said Bruno, eyeing Delilah suspiciously.

    ¡°No, but¡­let¡¯s just keep an open mind,¡± said Delilah. She stowed the crown in her robes, as opposed to the chest of coins.

    Jeremiah was about to jump out of the tomb when he spotted something lumpy squashed beneath the skeleton. He shoved the bones aside to find a leather backpack, flat and cracked all over. It held the stiff form it had been in for untold years.

    "Leather? That should have decayed a long time ago," said Allison.

    "Might be magic," said Jeremiah, "an enchanted object is resistant to normal wear and tear. But I think the magic in this is long since spent."

    Allison took the bag from him and gingerly peeked inside. "Enchantments get spent? Like, run out?" Allison asked. She unconsciously ran a hand over armor.

    Jeremiah climbed out of the tomb and dusted himself off. "Eventually, yeah. But it tends to take a very long time, depending on how often it¡¯s used. Don¡¯t worry, your armor will probably outlive you."

    "Jay, I think the tomb lid is enchanted," said Delilah. She was studying the great stone slab. It had landed upside down, revealing an underside webbed with intricate lines and designs.

    Jeremiah whistled. "Looks like. Or it was, anyways."

    "Dangerous?" asked Allison. She put a hand on Delilah''s shoulder and pulled her back a step, interposing herself between Delilah and the stone.

    Jeremiah looked it over. The diagram was wildly complicated, and he wasn¡¯t very good at reading complex enchantments yet. It was like looking at a pile of words and being asked what sentence they were supposed to make. There was a right answer, but a lot more not-quite-right answers.

    "I dont  think  it¡¯s dangerous?" he finally decided. "Same situation as the bag, I think whatever magic was in here has long since run its course.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s the point of it, then?¡± asked Bruno.

    Jeremiah shrugged. ¡°I can¡¯t be sure, but if I had to guess, it may have been an attempt to reverse death? Clearly didn¡¯t work, though.¡±

    ¡°That would explain the trumpets,¡± said Delilah. ¡°It would announce to everyone that he¡¯d returned to life to open his own tomb.¡±

    ¡°Arrogant bastard,¡± muttered Bruno. ¡°Well, if that¡¯s it, are we good to go, Jay?¡±

    But Jeremiah had frozen. Amid the web of interconnecting runes and cinduits, there was one rune that looked wrong.

    "Jay? Talk to me," said Allison. She raised her shield. Delilah and Bruno scampered behind the tomb, taking cover.

    "I don''t know this rune," said Jeremiah. He reached out and traced it with a fingertip, trying to jog his memory.

    ¡°Okay. Are we concerned, or is this just a professional curiosity?¡± asked Allison.

    Jeremiah''s hand began to shake. ¡°No, you don''t understand. I don''t recognize this rune, not even a little. I cant say I know every rune, but this one¡­I''ve never seen anything like it,"

    ¡°The point, Jay. What does this  mean?" Allison demanded. She glanced towards entrance that still rumbled from the golem''s blows.

    Jeremiah leaned close to the writing and blew on it, dislodging a poof of dust. "It means I need paper, good paper. And a way to trace this as accurately as possible. Delilah, do you have-"

    "Here," said Delilah. She handed him a gossamer thin piece of paper and a black, needle thin shard of stone.

    Jeremiah spread the paper over the rune. It was translucent, and even pressed against the stone he could just see the lines of the strange rune etched below. He worried the paper would tear, but it was surprisingly resilient. He closed his eyes and tried to center himself, taking deep breaths the way Thurok had taught him to prepare for exacting work. He imagined draining energy from his hand and arm to bring it to perfect stillness and control.

    He let his perfectly calm arm glide over the paper. It almost felt alien, like it wasn''t his arm. It was something he moved by will alone, free of the countless minute movements he had learned to ignore during every moment of any other day. It was a small rune, but it took him several minutes to capture each facet with certainty. He held up and inspected the paper.

    "All good?" asked Allison. She stole another glance towards the door and its distant thunder.

    ¡°Not yet. I need another paper, several more. Delilah, how many of these do you have?" Jeremiah rolled the page up carefully and tucked it into the armored pocket of his armor where he kept Gus, who croaked at the intrusion.

    "Another four. You¡¯re error proofing the copy?" said Delilah.

    "Exactly," said Jeremiah. Delilah handed Jeremiah all she had, and he transcribed each one as carefully as if it were his only chance. As he completed them, he handed one each to Delilah, Bruno, and Allison, he was dimly aware of Allison walking away with her page.

    With a sigh of relief, Jeremiah finished the fifth copy. ¡°Done. Okay, I¡¯ll keep two.¡± To the others, he said, ¡°Keep them as safe as possible. I can''t promise anything, but this might be more valuable than anything else we''ve found...well, ever."

    Bruno inspected his page. "What''s it say? These are like, words of the gods or something, right?"

    "Exactly that. When you hear me saying magical words? These are what I¡¯m saying,¡± said Jeremiah, pointing to the different runes around the lid.

    ¡°So what¡¯s this one say?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°No idea. It¡¯s very rare that mages have both the pronunciation and the rune for any particular word. Like, I have no idea how I¡¯d write the rune for any of my undead spells. And I have no idea how to say any of these runes out loud, pretty sure no one does,¡± said Jeremiah, indicating the tomb lid.

    ¡°I was really under the impression this was a thoroughly mastered craft,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Yeah, aren¡¯t powerful mages supposed to be channeling arcane mysteries or something?¡± asked Bruno. He wiggled his fingers for emphasis.

    Jeremiah scoffed. ¡°I know we call it the language of the gods, but even the greatest mages are just babbling toddlers. Some of the babble is just barely intelligible enough to work. Same with enchanting.¡±

    ¡°So all we need is a dictionary,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°That''ll be all our troubles solved, guaranteed." Jeremiah¡¯s second page joined the first. ¡°Or, come to think of it, maybe it¡¯d make all our troubles much worse.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of worse troubles," said Allison, returning to the group, "the door is failing."

 Chapter 8. The Hunt

    Chapter 8. The Hunt

    A spiderweb of cracks was spreading across the door. New ones branched off like streams from rivers, cutting through mountain stone with each strike. The golem''s rhythm never faltered.

    ¡°No secret exits that I can find," reported Bruno. ¡°Just one way in and out.¡±

    Allison''s face was grave as she studied the door. "You''re sure we can''t fight it?" she asked Jeremiah.

    "I''m sure,¡± said Jeremiah. His mind was circling a dark certainty. ¡°These things are juggernauts. It must be punching through three feet of stone right now.¡±

    The friends were silent for a time, watching tiny chips fall from the door with each deafening slam.

    "I¡­I think we''re dead," said Bruno. He shrugged as he said it, and the flippancy of the gesture sent a spike of cold through Jeremiah''s chest.

    "Can you reinforce the door?" Jeremiah asked Delilah.

    "A little, sure,¡± she said. Not enough to make a difference.¡± Allison nodded to her and Delilah spread a black paste over the deepest and largest cracks. The glossy texture began to fade, and the paste suddenly turned from black to bright green. If it changed anything, Jeremiah couldn''t see it.

    "Dead?" Bruno asked the room.

    Allison sighed. "Yeah, maybe. I''ve got one idea, and it''s a bad one."

    "No such thing right now," said Delilah. Jeremiah heard a tiniest hitch in her voice. The cold spike in his chest bloomed into his hands and he began to shiver.

    Allison pointed to the frame around the great stone entry. "The door isn¡¯t flush with the wall when it''s open. Bruno unlocks the door and we hide in the gap. Maybe it can''t find us and quits, maybe we sneak out while it''s searching."

    "Maybe the door crushes us when he batters it open," said Bruno.

    "Maybe," was all Allison said in return.

    They were quiet again. Jeremiah had brushed up against death more than once, but this felt different. This felt inevitable. The stone slab reverberated and rattled, sending more dust to the ground. He thought he heard something give inside it.

    "I just want to say¡ª" Jeremiah started, but Allison rounded on him.

    "No! No goodbyes yet! We say our goodbyes after we''re dead. Stop fucking shaking, Jay. Delilah, you too. Stop it!"

    "I''m not¡ª" Delilah said.

    "We act!¡± shouted Allison. ¡°Get in position, now. Bruno start unlocking the door. If it finds us, you all run and I''ll keep it busy as long as I can," Allison shook them, forcing them into position. Jeremiah was slammed against the stone wall between Delilah and Allison. He squeezed himself as flat as he could.

    Bruno began prying and yanking at the mechanisms holding the door shut, pausing his work with every blow against the door. Jeremiah saw the fear in every motion Bruno made, stuttering fingers and a sheen of sweat beading on his brow.

    "Get ready," said Bruno. It was a meaningless statement, the only thing Jeremiah could do was hold still and not die. He looked to his left and saw Delilah''s pale face, resolute and stern despite the quivering lip. To his right Allison had her eyes closed and was muttering. An oath or prayer, he did not know.

    Bruno ran a metal cord from the labyrinthian lock mechanism to his place on the wall. He paused in front of Jeremiah, locking eyes with him. Bruno''s gaze flicked once to Delilah and back again to Jeremiah. Jeremiah understood. ¡° If only one, her¡± .

    Jeremiah agreed, although he wasn''t entirely sure why.

    "Ready?" asked Bruno.

    "Go!" Allison barked, without hesitation.

    Bruno yanked the cord. There was a sound of whirring metal, a sudden catch, and a metallic shattering from the door. Not deviating from its rhythm the golem struck the door once more. The blaring horns meant to signal a triumphant return from death bleated once in a brass shriek, and the great door burst open.

    Jeremiah forced the air from his lungs and as the door careened toward him, he had time for a single thought. "This won''t hurt ."

    The deafening boom shook his bones, but the door stopped half an inch from his nose. Bruno and Delilah were untouched, and Allison would have had the visor of her helmet crushed in had she not turned her head.

    There was silence, save for the sound of dust falling from the walls and ceiling. The golem did not charge blindly into the room. It was watching, observing. Searching.

    A single thud as it took a step forward, then another. Silence. Jeremiah felt his breath catch as, far above his head, three stone fingers curled around the edge of the door. They were each as thick as his arm and etched in glowing blue runes. The golem was going to be thorough.

    Jeremiah caught the slightest shift to his left. Allison was there. He realized she was preparing to dash into the open, to turn herself into a distraction and enable their escape. She would be crushed as soon as it reached her, sacrificing herself to buy them a few precious moments to make their escape.

    He wanted to shout, to grab ahold of her arm and not let go, but of course he could do neither. She tensed, about to run. About to die.

    Jeremiah had no time to think, only act.

    Rise.

    Stretching out his will, Jeremiah touched the long forgotten bones still heaped in the tomb. A single bubble formed in his mind. It felt like a severed limb regrowing all at once. The cold of the stone, the orientation of the bones, the sense of light, all mingled simultaneously with his own senses. It felt good.

    The skeleton sprang upward, grinding the crumbling bones of its finger tips against the stone like chalk. What faint noise it made was more than enough to attract the golem''s attention, and whatever loyalty it had held to the owner of those bones was long gone. The hall rang with a teeth-rattling cacophony as the massive glowing golem careened down the hall.

    The instant the golem began its charge, they fled.  Evade , Jeremiah commanded the skeleton as he ran. It had to buy them as much time as possible.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Jeremiah ran heedless of his need for breath, or of the burning in his legs. He didn¡¯t notice as they sprinted through the tiled halls or the countless switchbacks. He was dimly aware of the skeleton¡¯s efforts to evade the golem, but his present mind was fixed on the back of Allison as he willed himself to keep up with her.

    The skeleton¡¯s bubble burst just as they splashed into the cavern where they had fought the mummies. The shock of cold and the sudden limitation of their speed drove the fog of panic from their minds. They staggered over to the stone stairs, collapsing as they heaved in air and let the icy water cool the burning muscles in their legs.

    "G-good? We good?" Allison gasped out finally.

    "Skele-skeleton gone¡­but good," said Jeremiah. He felt a clap on the shoulder from Bruno, directing him to a half-hearted thumbs up.

    "Let''s¡­leave," said Delilah.

    Together they climbed up the slippery stones to where they had made their stand, Finally back into the starry tunnel, they formed a proper marching order again.

    "So¡­that was you wasn''t it?¡± Allison asked. ¡°You made the skeleton? It didn''t just pop up on its own?"

    Jeremiah felt immediately defensive. "The one that saved us? Yeah, that was me."

    ¡°Easy, Jay. It pains me to say it, but you made the right call. I just wish you didn''t have to," Allison said.

    Jeremiah wanted to feel relieved, but her last comment restoked his irritation. ¡±Sometimes you need to save everyone from certain death," he said, with a touch of attitude.

    ¡°Oh, you''ve got to be  fucking  kidding me!" said Delilah. Jeremiah glared at her over his shoulder, ready to defend his decision, but she was looking back down the way they had just come. He saw her ears twitch, just a little.

    "Run! Run run run!" Delilah screamed.

    The panic returned like a tsunami, carrying everyone along with it. They ran, willing their exhausted bodies onward. Jeremiah was vaguely aware of Delilah frantically shedding supplies as she ran. Vials smoked and splattered across the floor, anything that might slow their inaudible pursuer.

    Jeremiah wheezed for breath as he ran. It felt like he was drowning. His friends began pulling away, even as he urged his leaden legs onward. Up ahead, Allison collided with a jutting bit of cave wall and fell in a shower of sparks. She was struggling to her knees as Jeremiah reached her, and he tried to help her up.

    Allison yanked up her helmet''s visor and doubled over, retching on the floor as she stumbled into a gait no faster than Jeremiah¡¯s. "Damned¡­armor," she gasped.

    Delilah reappeared. "Please keep running!¡± she said, her eyes frantic. ¡°Please! Just a bit farther!"

    Suddenly he felt it, a nearly imperceptible quiver in the bones of the very mountain around them. Rhythmic, building, and unrelenting. Jeremiah¡¯s body pulled on some last primal reserve of strength and they surged onward.

    Blue. There was a blue glow creeping in on them from behind. Crawling around the corridors and searching for them. The golem''s steps merged with the pounding blood in Jeremiah''s ears. He stumbled forward. Moving slowly was all he could manage, but he was moving.

    Bruno doubled back to find them, seemingly unfazed by the test of endurance. His blades were drawn, and he ushered them along as they reached the bone strewn cave of the troll. The troll stood at the ready, bearing shield and makeshift weapon and growling something in giant''s tongue.

    "BA¡­be ba garoo!" Delilah shouted at the troll. She waved her arms, pointing toward the blue glow. "Sha-te frista!"

    The troll considered them in what Jeremiah interpreted as confusion, but it didn¡¯t advance. Jeremiah¡¯s legs gave out as he crossed the threshold of the troll¡¯s territory. Allison leaned against a wall, weapons drawn but limp with exhaustion. Delilah readied her spear, her alchemical ammunition spent. One way or another, their flight was over.

    The deafening approach rattled Jeremiah¡¯s bones as the behemoth of stone at last came into view. Arcane blue light sparked and flashed across its body, concentrating in a cyclopean eye in the center of its head. The golem took up the entire width of the tunnel, pulverized rocky outcroppings to powder, its gait neither slowing nor faltering. Titanic stone arms clawed the walls, pulling itself forward even as its elephantine legs pushed carried it through the cave.

    Jeremiah understood his death was finally at hand. The fact did not stir as much terror in him as it should have.

    Bruno drew his magic bow and began firing arrows at the golem, splintering them across its stony facade. ¡°Right here! Come test me, big guy! Come chase the shadow!¡± he shouted.

    But as the golem took its first thundering step into the open space of the cave, the troll sprang into action. It moved with surprising grace, crossing the room and smashing the metal blade of its scythe into the golem with a tremendous backhand. The force of the blow exploded the makeshift weapon and stopped the unstoppable.

    The golem was knocked clear off its feet, cratering the stone beneath its back. A heavy gouge marked its chest where the blade impacted. The troll was undeterred by the loss of its weapon and unconvinced of the fatality of the strike. It lifted its tower shield of logs above the golem and began driving it downward over and over again.

    Jeremiah watched troll fight. It was at least an interesting diversion before certain death.

    Wood was of no concern to stone. Inexorably, the golem stood, looming taller than the hunched the troll. It battered the shield aside, shattering it to pieces, and gripped the troll by the shoulder. With no discernible sign of effort, it crushed the troll¡¯s arm in its grip and tore it away from its body.

    The troll roared in pain and fury, green blood gushing from the wound for only an instant before it sealed off, and the troll¡¯s regenerative powers began growing a new arm at a rapid speed. The troll attacked again, raking across golem¡¯s body with its claws. The golem raised its fist and crushed the troll into the floor with a blow so strong Jeremiah felt the stone beneath his feet shift.

    Over and over the golem rained blows down on the troll¡¯s body, destroying it too slowly to take it out of the fight. Jeremiah and his friends watched as the troll¡¯s regeneration rapidly repaired crushed bones, lost limbs, even decapitation. He thought of Narooka, the minotaur filled with a sea of regenerative magic, but the troll¡¯s regeneration would never run dry. And the golem seemed to possess no fire or acid.

    Meanwhile, the golem was nearly invulnerable to the troll¡¯s frenzied assault. But nearly invulnerable was very different from completely invulnerable, at least when facing an enemy as tenacious as a troll defending its territory. Jeremiah realized shallow scratches were beginning to appear in the surface of the golem¡¯s body, small chips marring the edges of the reinforced stonework. It was like the weathering of a mountain that would eventually, over eons, wear it down to the ground.

    Then Jeremiah was being hoisted to his feet. Delilah and Bruno each had an arm under one of his. ¡°Come on, buddy!¡± said Bruno, with forced joviality. ¡°We¡¯re going to leave this one to our new best friend.¡±

    Jeremiah¡¯s brain was not working properly. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we help?¡± he asked, as his feet tried to remember how to walk.

    ¡°You said it yourself,¡± said Delilah. ¡°There¡¯s no way we can take that thing on.¡±

    ¡°Yup,¡± said Allison. ¡°I¡¯m more than happy to leave this one to the experts.

    They limped their way to the entrance, echoes of the troll¡¯s cries of fury and pain following them through the cave. Waves of exhaustion emanated from them, and their return trip back towards the entrance took nearly as long as the first time through, even without Bruno sweeping for traps. Jeremiah¡¯s legs trembled with fatigue, but the knowledge of the battle behind them forced him onward.

    At long last, they reached the tomb entrance and the campsite they¡¯d made the night before. Jeremiah stumbled towards his bedroll and collapsed, certain he¡¯d never stand again. The idea didn¡¯t bother him in the slightest.

    ¡°Nope,¡± said Allison. ¡°We need to get some distance from this place before we rest for the night.¡± Despite the collective groan from her companions, she began gathering items, although she moved painfully slowly.

    What¡¯d you tell that troll, anyway?¡± Bruno asked Delilah.

    Delilah turned to answer, and promptly threw up.

    ¡°Ah,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°And what¡¯s that mean in Giant?¡± As the reality of their survival set in, it seemed a very funny joke indeed.

 Chapter 9. The Blade and The Bureaucrat

    Chapter 9. The Blade and The Bureaucrat

    Packing and moving camp in the remaining daylight brought them to the foothills of the mountain. Jeremiah¡¯s entire body begged to rest, especially because Christopher the donkey had disappeared during their exploration of the tomb, leaving them to carry all of their remaining gear and supplies themselves.

    Finally, Allison deemed their distance from the tomb to be sufficient. Something akin to a camp was set up, armor was stripped, and the meager parcels of remaining food were doled out. The mountain still loomed, peeking at them over the trees, like it might be informing the golem of where they were headed. Jeremiah hurried to bed before Allison could change her mind.

    In the small hours of the morning, a stabbing pain in Jeremiah¡¯s back wrenched him awake. He leapt from his sleeping roll and realized the pain was within his own body¡ªthe treacherous muscles of his back were seizing up, bringing a gasp of pain to his lips. His legs felt like lead but he didn¡¯t want to wake anyone else, so he staggered beyond the warm ring of light cast by the embers of their fire towards the dark woods just beyond. There, he began to stretch and knead his back, trying to soothe the pain away.

    ¡°Dangerous to wander away from camp.¡± Bruno¡¯s voice drifted from somewhere above him.

    ¡°Back spasm,¡± Jeremiah strained to say. There was a soft crush of vegetation behind him, and he was suddenly struck between the shoulder blades. The blow hurt, but the spasms instantly stopped. ¡°Thanks,¡± he said, rolling his shoulders.

    The sound of striking flint, and their little corner of darkness bloomed with lamp light. Jeremiah could finally see Bruno, dressed in his black leathers.

    ¡°On watch?¡± Jeremiah asked.

    ¡°Yeah. Have a seat.¡± Bruno sat beneath a tree and patted the moss invitingly. He took off his headcover and tossed it a dozen feet away. The reinforced leather hidden inside the wrap kept it open like a bowl where it landed.

    ¡°What are the odds that golem continues to chase us?¡± asked Bruno, as Jeremiah settled beside him.

    Jeremiah thought it over. ¡°The golem has got one job, and it¡¯ll continue until it¡¯s done. But unless the stories about a troll¡¯s regeneration are exaggerated¡­¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re gonna be stuck there for a good while,¡± finished Bruno. ¡°The troll was making progress, though. It might take a long time, but eventually it  will  win.¡± He began gathering acorns and small stones, making a small pile between them.¡°I wanted to talk to you about something.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Jeremiah asked.

    Bruno selected an acorn off the pile and tossed it towards the headwrap. It dropped inside the hat with a satisfying  thwap . ¡°Was wondering if you¡¯ve thought about what you¡¯re going to do.¡±

    ¡°Going to do?¡± asked Jeremiah. He threw an acorn too. It bounced off the edge of the headwrap and disappeared into the dark.

    ¡°What¡¯s your plan for the future?¡± asked Bruno. ¡°Life-saving spells in a  dungeon aside¡ªthanks, by the way¡ªyou¡¯re not a necromancer anymore. You got this enchanting job, but you don¡¯t seem to like it. You don¡¯t seem to be leaning toward anything else, and it¡¯s been a year since you were cleared of charges.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I guess I¡¯m doing it day by day.¡± Jeremiah felt suddenly angry. ¡°Is there some kind of time limit?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong,¡± said Bruno, ¡°if you keep at this enchanting thing and start giving us magic equipment I¡¯ll make your damn bed every morning. But it sounds like it sucks, and I¡¯d rather you not be miserable.¡± Bruno hit the mark with his next throw too. ¡°Is this enchanting something you want to keep doing?¡±

    ¡°Not sure,¡± said Jeremiah. He hurled a stone far past the hat. Bruno¡¯s questions were beginning to frustrate him. Was he expected to have this all worked out? It had been barely a year since he escaped a death sentence and saved the city from certain ruin. He felt he had earned a little leeway. ¡°What about you? You had said adventuring is just what you do, or some aloof bullshit. But then I learn you¡¯re some kind of crime boss, or underworld manager, or something. That¡¯s an awful lot of responsibility for just some adventurer.¡±

    Bruno sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know either.¡± His threw an acorn that bounced off the rim of the headwrap.

    That wasn¡¯t what Jeremiah was expecting. He decided to stay quiet, giving Bruno time to think.

    Bruno started again, his voice guarded. ¡°I¡¯ve spent a lot of the last year working with Delilah, you know? She has me deliver things, find people that are ducking her. Brings me along to lurk just behind her, make her seem dangerous.¡± Another acorn hit the edge of the hat and disappeared into the dark.

    ¡°I watch her write a letter,¡± Bruno continued. ¡°Maybe two pages, tops. She sends it off, and a school gets built in the slums. The kingdom provides money to fix a flophouse and pay a schoolteacher. Now twenty five kids are learning to read and do numbers. She writes another letter, and now they get breakfast and lunch every day, too.¡±

    Bruno stood and began pacing. ¡°I¡¯ve done some serious shit, Jay! I¡¯ve murdered, stolen, extorted, blackmailed¡ªyou name it, I¡¯ve done it. I did it to create some semblance of peace and safety for people who have damn all to their names.¡± Bruno snatched up a fistful of stones and flung them into the dark. ¡°But I have  never  made a school, from nothing, where a bunch of kids get the chance to actually escape the hell they live in!¡±

    Jeremiah held very still and stayed very quiet. He¡¯d never seen Bruno like this before, on the verge of losing control.

    ¡°But Delilah,¡± Bruno pointed toward the glow of their fire pit, ¡°she just writes a letter, says she¡¯s ¡®asking for Grant,¡¯ and money just appears! Who the hell is Grant?¡± Bruno whipped a sword from his belt and hurled it into a tree. Then he dropped back beside Jeremiah like nothing had happened. ¡°Took her all of ten minutes.¡±

    Jeremiah waited, but Bruno seemed to have spent all his energy. ¡°Fucking letters, man,¡± was all he could think to say.

    ¡°Right?¡± said Bruno. He sighed and glanced at the sword, still quivering in the tree trunk. ¡°I offered to stab bureaucracy for her, but she won¡¯t tell me where it lives.¡±

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Jeremiah snorted at the joke. ¡°If it makes you feel any better, no amount of letter writing can do what you do.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but no amount of what I do can accomplish what she does,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°No easy answers for either of us,¡± said Jeremiah. He put a reassuring hand on Bruno¡¯s shoulder.

    Bruno patted Jeremiah¡¯s hand. ¡°Yeah, man. Thanks.¡±

    Jeremiah didn¡¯t respond, just threw another acorn towards Bruno¡¯s hat. To his surprise, it landed neatly inside. ¡°I¡¯m going back to bed. You need anything?¡±

    ¡°Take the rest of my shift?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°I¡¯m still not allowed to take watch, remember?¡±

    ¡°I¡­Have you not been doing watch shifts? I thought you were between Allison and Delilah!¡±

    ¡°Nope, you yourself forbid me from¡ª¡±

    ¡°That was forever ago, I didn¡¯t even know you!¡±

    ¡°¡ªfrom taking watches! If you want to change that, you can put it to a vote in the morning. But rules are rules, goodnight!¡±

    The motion to repeal the ban on Jeremiah taking watch was introduced early the next morning, and passed with rapid, unanimous, and furious consent.

    ¡ª--------

    The walk back to civilization was slow. As Christopher had been carrying most of their supplies, their progress was hampered not only by exhaustion but by the need to procure food and water as they traveled. They arrived back at their home in Dramir two weeks later, only partially inured to the smell.

    "Everyone check yourself for ticks, please," said Delilah, "and do not sit¡ªI said, do NOT sit on my couch, Bruno! Toss all clothes and armor out the back door. I''m not living with this stink for the rest of my life.¡± She gathered up an armful of mail that had piled up inside her door.

    "It''s in my hair, I can feel it," said Allison.

    "Yes, we''re all getting baths. I''ll start heating the water now. Throw on fresh clothes and sit on the floor," said Delilah. She pumped a pail of water and set it on the hearth. Banging flint and steel over tinder and kindle, Delilah quietly hissed in frustration as her exhausted hands fumbled with the tools. Jeremiah watched sympathetically. Nothing took longer than getting a fire started when you were exhausted and dying to be warm.

    "Can we talk about our take?" said Jeremiah. The electrum coins had been divided between them for transport, and now sat together on the table along with the few loose gemstones, the crown, and the magic bag.

    Bruno pulled out a sampling of coins from the bag. He began tossing them to himself, almost juggling them. "Rough estimate of eighty-twenty, gold-to-hopefully, silver.¡±

    ¡°You can tell that just by feeling them?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°I¡¯ve handled a lot of counterfeits,¡± said Bruno. ¡°You, on the other hand, are no counterfeit.¡± He held up the crown, its pink sapphires glinting.

    ¡°Sorry Bruno, but that¡¯s getting returned,¡± said Delilah. She was sorting through mail and adding the occasional letter to the infant flame in the tinder.

    The coins on the table jumped as Bruno dropped his head onto the wood. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me, Delilah. The gemstones alone could¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop thinking in coins,¡± said Delilah. ¡°Networks and favors, that¡¯s where the real money is. Ouch.¡± She had reconsidered and snatched a letter back from the flames.

    ¡°I disagree,¡± Bruno muttered into the table.

    ¡°We¡¯ll need to get the loose gems appraised and sold,¡± said Allison. ¡°The real question is this magic word, or whatever it is. You made it sound really important, Jay, exactly how valuable are we talking?¡±

    ¡°Oh! No promises or anything, but depending on what the word is, and assuming it¡¯s NOT a word that¡¯s already known¡­well, pretty priceless honestly,¡± said Jeremiah. Now that they were home, his excitement was returning. This kind of discovery was a once in a generation event. He gingerly extracted an etching of the rune from its reinforced pocket and stared at it.

    ¡°Priceless doesn¡¯t help us,¡± said Bruno. ¡°How much gold can we get for it?¡±

    ¡°I really don¡¯t know,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°there¡¯s even something to be said for keeping it a secret. Delilah, alchemists keep some stuff secret right? Formulas and things?¡±

    Delilah didn¡¯t respond, she was closely reading a letter with a growing look of concern.

    ¡°Delilah?¡±

    ¡°¡­Yeah. Some stuff is a secret, others we share. You share your good stuff for the prestige, you keep your best stuff a secret so no one steals it. Then they might share it and steal your prestige,¡± said Delilah, still reading.

    ¡°Huh? But wouldn¡¯t¡­uh, nevermind. Anyway, we could theoretically sell the rune to another mage. Certainly name our price¡ªwhatever they can afford, anyways. Might take time though, we¡¯d need to find mages who could make it worth our while,¡± said Jeremiah. His eyes flicked to the windows and he rolled up the page again.

    Bruno grinned. ¡°Could easily rook a bunch at once, make em all think they¡¯re getting an exclusive.¡±

    ¡°We could! But then there¡¯d be a lot of mages angry at us, which I assume we don¡¯t want,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t want that,¡± Allison said. She set her page onto the table. She and Jeremiah helped Bruno stack the coins into small towers, ceding conversation to the clinks of metal clattering over metal. They finished quickly, which Jeremiah thought boded poorly.

    Bruno took a count. ¡°Alright, so you two did stacks of ten, rookie mistake, and I did stacks of five, so looks like we¡¯ve got about¡­two hundred and forty five coins. Assuming my ratios are correct, that makes for¡­one hundred and ninety six gold and forty nine silver. Not bad.¡±

    Jeremiah¡¯s head swam with a mild wave of dizziness. He still wasn¡¯t used to hearing about sums of money like that.

    ¡°Minus materials for me to dissolve the coins in order to separate the metals, minus cost for having them recast and certified by a licensed goldsmith,¡± said Delilah. Her scowl at the mail had only deepened.

    Bruno deflated. ¡°Yeah, minus those things.¡±

    Allison pushed the coins and gemstones into a single pile. ¡°Let¡¯s not get ahead of ourselves. We can get the gems appraised while Jeremiah works on translating the rune. But first, some R and R. Two days of bed rest and light activity for everyone.¡± She carefully toted the pile of loot to their hidden floor safe and locked it away.

    Delilah sighed at her papers. ¡°Al, why don¡¯t you go first on the bath? I need to deal with some of this.¡±

    Jeremiah and Allison shared a look of concern. ¡°Delilah, is this really something you need to do right now?¡± asked Allison.

    Delilah didn¡¯t respond, just carried an armful of documents into her room and closed the door.

 Chapter 10. The Old Ways

    Chapter 10. The Old Ways

    ¡°Conspiracy!¡± Delilah shouted. She slammed a packet of files on the table, rattling the breakfast dishes.

    Jeremiah, Bruno, and Allison cleared away their remaining bits of toast and tea as Delilah began pulling certain pages from the pile to show them. ¡°Look,¡± she said. ¡°These are some of the first lawsuits we were served, the details of the grievances are laid out here. We were found liable for a couple, partially liable for a couple, but not liable for most of them. Then, in the  second  round of lawsuits¡ª¡±

    ¡°Delilah,¡± interrupted Allison, ¡°you¡¯re just going to end up explaining this again, but simpler. Can we skip to that?¡±

    ¡°Would it kill you to¡ªugh! Fine.¡± Delilah traced a line of minuscule text. ¡°I realized there are particular turns of phrase, grammatical errors, and even spelling errors repeated between suits. Counselors reuse their writings all the time, but these were all filed by different nobles with different legal teams!¡±

    She looked around and sighed as no comprehension dawned on her comrades. ¡°Which  means  we are not being subjected to a chaotic deluge of lawsuits from a bunch of angry nobles¡ªthis is a coordinated effort to ruin us. They sue us, the lawsuits resolve, they decide what worked and what didn¡¯t. Then they adjust new suits to be more effective and come at us again!¡±

    ¡°Probe the defenses for weakness,¡± said Allison, nodding.

    ¡°Casing for the big score,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have an analogy, but I know what you mean,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°How bad is it?¡±

    Delilah dropped into her chair. ¡°It¡¯s hard to say from this. I know they¡¯re out there, but I don¡¯t know how many, or how well-resourced they are.¡±

    Allison poured a fresh cup of tea and placed it in Delilah¡¯s hands. ¡°Let me and Bruno look into that,¡± she said. ¡°Between Hector and Bruno¡¯s contacts, we¡¯ll be able to at least figure out who¡¯s involved.¡±

    Delilah sprang to her feet. ¡°Perfect! That gives Jay and me a chance to follow up another loose end. I¡¯ll go get my things.¡± She gathered up the pages and rushed from the table, leaving her tea untouched and her friends exchanging worried looks.

    It had been a challenging negotiation, but Jeremiah was finally able to convince Delilah to let him stop by Thurok¡¯s workshop by reminding her that their found rune could only help them if he learned more about it. Now, he stood before a veritable monument of books, scroll cases, and steel plates, all organized in a system that was indecipherable only to Thurok.

    He reached towards a book that seemed promising, but hesitated. Thurok had always personally handed him any book he intended Jeremiah to read, and that made Jeremiah nervous. A mage¡¯s library was the nervecenter of their work, where rare and valuable books co-mingled with personal notes about the very secrets of magic. They were known to have security measures.

    His finger hovered over the book¡¯s dusty spine, debating. He could just ask Thurok for information, but if he explained why he needed it, he¡¯d have to show Thurok the rune. He couldn¡¯t risk what might be the most valuable contribution he¡¯d brought to the party in a long time.

    A sound from behind him made Jeremiah whirl. Thurok stared dispassionately at him from the doorway.

    ¡°Sir, I, uh, I was¡­just curious,¡± Jeremiah said.

    ¡°Curiosity kills.¡± Thurok moved into the room and pulled the door shut without moving his eyes from Jeremiah¡¯s. The library was hardly larger than a closet. Jeremiah became suddenly aware of how much space the half-orc occupied.

    His mind cast about for something to say, and he remembered something Bruno had once told him about lying.  Tell them what they want to believe . ¡°I¡­I¡¯m sorry. You caught me. I wanted to learn runes faster than you''ve been showing me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been a slow, miserable student. Now you return from that greedy thuggery you call ¡®adventuring¡¯ and you¡¯re full of ambition?¡± Thurok¡¯s face revealed nothing, his gaze unflinching. Jeremiah started to sweat.

    Bruno¡¯s voice whispered in his ear.  Wrap the lie in a truth, like poison in wine.

    ¡°Sir, I was just so useless during the adventure. Without necromancy, I¡¯m no better than¡­well than a thug with a spear. And until I improve my enchanting, I¡¯m going to  remain  useless. I only know eight runes. I hoped I could look at some of your books and maybe find¡ª¡±

    ¡°A shortcut,¡± said Thurok. The venom in his voice was so powerful Jeremiah took an unconscious step back. Thurok¡¯s hand shot out and grabbed Jeremiah by the throat, holding him perfectly still.

    Jeremiah waited for the grip to choke the life out of him in a rage, but it was steady. He took a cautious, shallow breath.

    ¡°Move. Forward.¡± Thurok said. His voice had a dangerous edge to it, a warning. Jeremiah sensed something behind him, something moving closer. He heard the groan of wood straining, and the hairs on his neck stood on end. Thurok¡¯s gaze rested on something behind Jeremiah.

    Jeremiah stepped forward and Thurok moved aside to allow him to pass. They swapped places Thurok released his throat. Jeremiah dropped to one knee as air rushed into his lungs and he was overcome with a violent coughing fit. He heard the groan of wood once more, but when he looked up, all was as it had been before.

    ¡°I blame myself,¡± said Thurok. ¡°I should have known your laziness would drive you to such means. I¡¯m only glad I did not return too late when my alarms were triggered. You owe me your life, Thorn.¡±

    It was then, with his proximity to the floor, that Jeremiah spotted something he had never noticed. The wood grain on the floor boards, every single line, was enchantment runes. Thousands per board flowed seamlessly, even across the heads of nails. As his eyes traveled up, he followed them to the towering shelves. The runes, no thicker than threads of spider silk, covered everything in the room. Thurok looked down at him, a master framed by his craft.

    ¡°I understand your frustration,¡± said Thurok.

    ¡°Huh?¡± Jeremiah stared. Thurok had never before shown anything approaching empathy. It was eerie.

    ¡°Yes. I grew up in savage conditions. Born of the Flayer Clan, farther south than your kind travel. A place of ice and wind. I was small, weak, despised for surviving infancy. Useless.¡± Thurok¡¯s face remained blank.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Meaningless,¡± said Thurok. Then, ¡°You may access my library, Thorn.¡±

    ¡°R-really?¡±

    ¡°Until I declare otherwise. Do not allow this freedom to interfere with your duties.¡± Thurok swept out of the tiny room, leaving Jeremiah equal parts elated and confused.

    Jeremiah accompanied Delilah to the old quarter of Dramir. The homes here were grand but restrained, grouped together like stooped old men sharing memories. Short gates presented patinated coats of arms to signify which once-esteemed family resided within.

    ¡°Here we are,¡± said Delilah. She stopped before the coat of arms that matched the one on the crown, currently tucked away in Delilah¡¯s professional robes. ¡°We are expected. Now, don¡¯t-¡±

    ¡°Slouch, talk out of turn, make jokes, be disrespectful, fidget, fuss, complain, comment, or otherwise embarrass you,¡± said Jeremiah. They stared at each other for a tense moment. Jeremiah slapped her hand out of the air as it jumped up to fix his hair.

    ¡°Fine. Just let me do the talking,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Why am I even here?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Because Bruno is busy and these old family patriarch types sometimes won¡¯t speak with a woman,¡± said Delilah. They passed through the modest garden and Delilah rapped the lion headed door knocker.

    Jeremiah had enough time to grow bored before the door opened to a distinguished, albeit gray-looking human. He was dressed not in the typical livery of a butler, but in finery that had seen better days. ¡°Might I help you?¡± His voice low, nearly a moan.

    ¡°Delilah Fortune, Jeremiah Thorn. We¡¯re here to see that master of the Marquette house,¡± said Delilah with the slightest bow. ¡°Do I have the pleasure of addressing him?¡±

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°That would be my father,¡± said the man, with a hint of distaste for the word. ¡°I understand you have something for him? I¡¯ll see Father receives it.¡±

    ¡°With respect sir, we would be remiss to not hand the item over ourselves,¡± said Delilah, inching forward to make closing the door more difficult. ¡°We have recovered a form of relic belonging to your family, one quite old, and we would like to negotiate its return.¡±

    The man sighed. ¡°Fine. Enter then, I will alert father to your presence. With luck, he will be capable of speaking with you.¡±

    Jeremiah and Delilah entered the dusty foyer, while the scion of the household climbed the narrow carpeted staircase.

    ¡°Father!¡± he bellowed from halfway up the stairs, causing Delilah to jump. ¡°You have callers!¡± He turned to Delilah and Jeremiah. ¡°Father will join us momentarily, unless he died,¡± he said, without a hint of humor.

    ¡°You damn well wish I was dead, you pathetic rotten spunk of a son!¡± came a voice. A man as frail and delicate as paper limped to the top of the staircase. He shivered uncontrollably despite the burgundy robe that wrapped him tightly. The son made no attempt to help his father as the elderly man descended, and Jeremiah saw his eyes continuously flick towards his father¡¯s feet.

    ¡°Your audience is granted,¡± said the son with a dismissive wave, and departed.

    ¡°Lord Marquette?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°Call me Arnold,¡± said the man, nearing the bottom of the stairs. Jeremiah stepped forward and offered a steadying arm. Arnold looked inquisitively at Jeremiah¡¯s arm before taking it and allowing himself to be helped down the final steps.

    ¡°Lord¡­wait, Lord  Arnold  Marquette?¡± said Delilah, looking astonished.

    ¡°That¡¯s right, why the surprise?¡± asked Arnold, he squinted suspiciously at Delilah.

    ¡°She¡¯s just surprised you¡¯re still alive,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Delilah¡¯s head whipped to glare at Jeremiah, her ponytail wrapping and hitting her in the face.

    Arnold laughed, ¡°You and me both! My son¡¯s been waiting for me to die for at least a decade now, lazy trash. Come to my office. You¡¯ll forgive an old man who loathes leaving his favorite robe.¡±

    ¡°I will kill you,¡± Delilah hissed at Jeremiah as they followed the elderly lord. ¡°I will kill everyone who looks like you!¡±

    Arnold Marquette¡¯s office was a small library containing a desk, a few trinkets and a thin layer of dust throughout. Whoever cleaned it came around infrequently.

    ¡°To what do I owe the visit?¡± asked Arnold. He produced a bottle and three small glasses from a desk drawer. Whatever liquor was contained within had fermented long past its date, and the cork came loose a bit too easily. The smell overwhelmed the room in a moment.

    Delilah cleared her throat. ¡°Lord Marquette, my name is Lady Delilah Fortune, and this is my associate Jeremiah Thorn. We have¡ª¡±

    ¡°The necromancer, right?¡± said Arnold. He poured three glasses of opaque brown liquid from the bottle.

    ¡°Enchanter nowadays,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Cost a lot of people a lot of money, you did,¡± said Arnold.

    ¡°I apologize,¡± Jeremiah began, but Arnold waved a hand and passed him a glass.

    ¡°Fah, none of my money. Serves them right, with their banks and ledgers. If you¡¯re not holding it, it¡¯s not yours.¡± He turned towards Delilah with another glass, but she held up a declining hand. Arnold glowered at the hand and set the tumbler between himself and Jeremiah.

    ¡°Lord Marquette, we have come into possession of¡ª¡± started Delilah, but Arnold interrupted her again.

    ¡°Pleasure before business,¡± he said to Jeremiah, and they tapped their glasses together.

    Jeremiah didn¡¯t give himself time to think and threw back the liquor. It could only be described as pungent. Thanks to Bruno, it was far from the worst drink he had ever had.

    Arnold wiped a dribble from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. ¡°Now then, what¡¯s the business?¡± he asked Jeremiah.

    Delilah cleared her throat again. ¡°We found something belonging to your family.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s have it, then,¡± Arnold said, still speaking to Jeremiah.

    Delilah sighed, but produced the crown.

    Arnold took it and flipped it over to inspect. ¡°Hah, you were deep in the weeds when you found this! I recognize it from some old family texts. Passed down for several generations, a legacy treasure.¡± He hefted it and dug a nail around one of the pink sapphires, as though to check if it would come loose.

    ¡°Yes. We¡¯d like to return it,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°You already did,¡± said Arnold. He inspected the sapphires closely.

    Delilah closed her eyes. In a moment, her demeanor shifted. ¡°We require a reward for its return,¡± she said curtly.

    ¡°There it is,¡± said Arnold. ¡°I¡¯ve got no time for courtesies and curtsies.¡± He set the crown atop his head, his neck straining to hold it up. Then he opened a drawer and set a bag of coins onto the desk. At least a dozen gold spilled out.

    ¡°We need a favor, not money,¡± said Delilah, though her gaze lingered on the coins.

    ¡°Oooh, she¡¯s a smart one, is she?¡± Arnold asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Very,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Hurry up, what sort of favor? The house of Marquette doesn¡¯t have quite the reach it used to, but maybe I can help,¡± said Arnold. He removed the crown and began fiddling with it again, rubbing the jewels.

    ¡°My associates and I are in some legal trouble,¡± said Delilah. ¡°I have reason to believe there¡¯s a conspiracy to destroy us by means of abuse of the law and its levers. We need to get out from under it.¡±

    Arnold scowled at the request, and regarded the Marquette family crest, framed on a wall. ¡°Was a time the Marquettes would be the ones running that conspiracy. Now we weren''t even invited. There¡¯s no house built strong enough that time won¡¯t pull it down eventually.¡±

    ¡°Your house still stands, one way or another,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Arnold nodded. ¡°So it does, so it does. Quite the feat for a line of humans. I fear it ends with my idiot son. That lazy bastard wants all comfort and no responsibility.¡±

    ¡°Surely your house has survived incompetence in the past,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Aye,¡± said Arnold. ¡°I¡¯ll say this, my granddaughter has the old blood in her. She¡¯ll raise us up once more, I¡¯m sure of it. So long as her daddy doesn¡¯t whip the fire out of her.¡± Arnold continued to nod at the coat of arms, his mood slowly improving, Jeremiah could see him imagining a stronger future.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got precious few strings and contacts left to tug on,¡± Arnold said at last, ¡°but the ones I¡¯ve got are no small-time crooks and bureaucrats. Probably I can¡¯t solve this for you, but I¡¯ll see if I can put you in touch with someone who can.¡±

    Arnold started to extend a hand to Jeremiah, but at the last minute turned toward Delilah. ¡°Deal?¡±

    ¡°Deal,¡± said Delilah. She shook Arnold¡¯s hand.

    Arnold''s face broke into a mischievous grin. ¡°Now, forgive an old man for showing you how badly you just got had. I don¡¯t get chances like this often anymore. You¡¯re an enchanter, Mr. Thorn?¡±

    ¡°To a limited degree,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Can you charge an enchanted item?¡± asked Arnold, the grin growing wider.

    ¡°I can¡­smaller ones anyways. Wait, is that thing¡­?¡± said Jeremiah. He had studied it every which way, inspected the crown closely, and had seen no sign of enchantment at all.

    Arnold cackled. ¡°Go on, make it glow!¡±

    Jeremiah looked to Delilah, but she just watched him, her lips a thin line. Jeremiah took the crown from Arnold and spoke the spell to bring an enchantment back to life.

    To his surprise, there was a place for the power to go. The sapphires lit up a brilliant pink as he poured magic into them. Jeremiah staggered from the input, the sheer depth of magic the crown could contain. He let it run through him while Arnold laughed and laughed.

    Finally it was complete. Miniscule lines of enchantment glowed in convoluted patterns inside of the sapphires.

    ¡°How?¡±  thought Jeremiah,  ¡°how do you inscribe enchantments  inside  of gemstones?¡±

    ¡°Give it! Give it here!¡± said Arnold, grasping for the crown, frantic eagerness infusing his frail body. His withered and bony fingers snatched the treasure. With an expression of ecstatic victory, he lowered it onto his brow.

    The rosy gems glowed fiercely for a moment, illuminating Arnold¡¯s pallid and delicate skin. His eyes bulged wide, and glistened with a renewed clarity. ¡°My my. I haven¡¯t felt this way for quite some time,¡± said Lord Marquette. His voice was measured and soft, clear and contemplative.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± asked Delilah. She was trying to peer beneath the crown at the pink glow, that even now was fading.

    ¡°Indeed, Lady Fortune, quite so,¡± said Lord Marquette. ¡°Previous readings detailed this crown as a source of authority within our family. Supposedly it imparted wisdom and insight to the wearer. I can see now that sometimes legends cannot fully capture the truth.¡±

    Lord Marquette surveyed the room, as if seeing it for the first time. His eyes found the coat of arms and hardened. ¡°Not just yet,¡± he whispered to himself.

    ¡°You¡¯ll keep to your end of the deal?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Very much so, Mr. Thorn, and then some,¡± said Lord Marquette. ¡°I will ask you to take your leave. I may yet have more strings than I previously believed¡ªI have an entire lifetime to remember.¡±

    Jeremiah and Delilah exited the manor the way they¡¯d come. ¡°So, there are magic items that can make you smarter,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Seems so,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°And we had one,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Mm-hm,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°I¡¯m mad at you,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Fair,¡± said Jeremiah.

 Chapter 11. Focus

    Chapter 11. Focus

    It had taken days of painstaking labor, but the recharge grid was finally complete. Without knowing what enchantment was on the bag, he ran the risk of burning through his focus immediately when he attempted to recharge it. The grid was a safety net of sorts.

    He had wasted four plates during the process, but now nine correctly-diagrammed plates were aligned in the living room in a three by three grid, with the bag resting inside an etched circle on the center plate. The others had granted him all the space he needed, and kept their distance lest they interrupt his progress. Jeremiah double and triple checked his work. Every rune was precisely etched, every gold bridge, silver gap spacer, and platinum repeater was securely in place.

    Jeremiah inspected the layout again. It was easily the most advanced enchanting he had ever attempted. If he charged the grid and something went wrong, it could destroy the diagram and send him back to Thurok for yet more plates. If it went really wrong, it could destroy the bag itself.

    ¡°Everyone,¡± he said. He had planned on saying more, but Bruno, Allison and Delilah thundered into the room so abruptly it startled the words out of him.

    ¡°What¡¯s it do!¡± Allison shouted, leaning over the diagram to peer at bag, before recoiling as though it had scalded her. The mysteries of the artifact and the runes simultaneously attracted and repelled them.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know yet,¡± Jeremiah shooed them, and they retreated to the edges of the room. He¡¯d have the head of anyone that disturbed the layout now. ¡°I need to empower the runes first, then we¡¯ll find out. It¡¯s alarmingly complex. But I wanted you all here in case something¡­happens.¡±

    Bruno and Allison began a pacing contest. Delilah pulled up a chair and perched on it as though she were preparing to receive a lecture.

    ¡°What¡¯s all this say?¡± asked Delilah, gesturing toward the interconnected plates.

    ¡°No one knows,¡± said Jeremiah, wishing they¡¯d stop asking him questions he couldn¡¯t answer, ¡°but it¡¯s what¡¯s always worked, so it¡¯s what we use. The ritual will draw magical power from me, and use it to recharge the bag. Depending on what sort of enchantment is on the bag, it¡¯ll take more or less focus from me. I might end up a little loopy, like when I would do too much necromancy.¡±

    ¡°Is there any danger?¡± asked Delilah.

    That one he knew. ¡°Yes. If I didn¡¯t make this correctly, I could burn out the enchantment on the bag. Or there could be an energy leak somewhere in the design that puts me into a coma. Or the bag could be damaged in a way that it does something unexpected, like explode.¡± He resisted the urge to look over the diagram again. ¡°I tried really hard to make sure none of those would happen.¡±

    The others nodded. There was nothing else to do but begin.

    Jeremiah crouched in front of the first plate, rolling his neck and shoulders as though the process would be physically strenuous. ¡°I¡¯m going to charge panel one first, and once it¡¯s up to capacity it¡¯ll release into the greater rune structure. That¡¯s when the drain will happen.¡± No one asked, but it wasn¡¯t often he enjoyed a captive audience. ¡°The runes will direct the flow of magic, regulate it, and cut off the flow once the enchantment is activated again.¡±

    Steeling himself, Jeremiah placed his hands on the runic input marks. He took a breath to speak the ancient words, when Allison asked, ¡°How long will it take?¡±

    Jeremiah grunted. ¡°Just a couple minutes. Be patient.¡± He tuned out her reply as he refocused. Keeping his breathing slow and even, trying his best to imitate what he¡¯d seen Thurok do, he spoke the words to initiate the flow of power from himself to the first panel.

    ¡°Is he ok?¡± Bruno asked. He sounded farther away than he should.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Allison. ¡°Those lines are glowing, so I think it¡¯s working. It¡¯s kind of pretty.¡± She sounded even farther.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, hush,¡± muttered Jeremiah. The runes around his hands glowed blue with energy. He was better than fine. He was charging first ever real enchantment! His mind wandered back to how natural Necromancy had felt in comparison, but he quickly refocused.

    The glow of the first panel was increasing. Soon the copper plug bridging the space between this panel and the next would give way, and the full draw of magic would begin.

    Jeremiah woke up in his bed. The sun was up. Gus was asleep in the water bowl, and he felt thoroughly refreshed. His thoughts turned to the day ahead, and he found a troubling emptiness. What day was it? Wasn¡¯t he supposed to be doing something?

    He thought back. The memory of setting up the recharge grid was clear, as was beginning the ritual. Then there was a memory of not remembering anything, and now here. Jeremiah stood, breathing deep and stretching luxuriously. He changed from his bedclothes to a comfortable outfit, pocketed Gus, and headed downstairs, prepared to face whatever onslaught of ridicule he surely deserved.

    ¡°The Horse Lord has risen!¡± Allison announced as he entered the kitchen, where she, Bruno, and Delilah were having breakfast. They applauded and Jeremiah waved to them like an aloof noble. Everyone stood and gave a strange salute of rubbing the backs of their hands on their foreheads.

    Jeremiah hesitated, then repeated the gesture back to them. He was rewarded with a gale of laughter. Allison, unable to keep her feet, collapsed back into her chair. ¡°He does¡ªhe does¡ªhe does it the exact same way!¡± she choked.

    ¡°Thank you, my loyal subjects!¡± Jeremiah said. ¡°Thank you!¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not!¡± said Delilah, ¡°You don¡¯t get to lean into this. You don¡¯t even know what you¡¯re leaning into. You. Owe. Us. Embarrassment.¡±

    Jeremiah grinned sheepishly. It was nice to see his friends laugh this hard. He hadn¡¯t seen that in a long time. ¡°Are we enjoying our magic bag?¡±

    ¡°Heck no, we weren¡¯t touching that,¡± said Bruno. Sure enough, the bag was exactly where Jeremiah remembered it, slumped innocuously in the center of the living room. ¡°We weren¡¯t sure if it was cursed or what.¡±

    ¡°Interesting fact, cursed magic items are usually just poorly made magic items,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°It¡¯s very rare that a magic item is made to be intentionally bad. Unless it was made by Archmage Lalan. She was very mean.¡± He hoped a display of esoteric knowledge would help him recover.

    ¡°What¡¯s an archmage?¡± asked Allison. Perfect.

    ¡°Excellent question. An archmage is a mage who has mastered at least two schools of magic,¡± said Jeremiah as he served himself a portion of oatmeal and sat to eat. He was ravenous.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Or one that has gained the title through perfection of their craft by near unanimous approval of their peers,¡± said Delilah. Jeremiah stared at her. ¡°What? You think I wouldn¡¯t catch up on my arcane facts just because we have a mage in the fold? I live for this stuff.¡±

    Jeremiah laughed. ¡°Yes, yes, you¡¯re very smart. ¡°Now let¡¯s have a look at that bag!¡±

    The others kept their distance as Jeremiah scooped up the heavy leather bag and turned it over in his hands. It was most likely not cursed, but it still could be cursed. He loosened the drawstring and peered inside, wondering if the woven metallic threads would still be glowing.

    A glance told him all he needed to know. ¡°Aha! Just as I suspected,¡± he said.

    Bruno, Allison, and Delilah were shoulder to shoulder, staring in greedy anticipation. When Jeremiah didn¡¯t elaborate, instead making a big show of continuing to inspect the bag, Allison burst out, ¡°Well?!¡±

    Jeremiah grinned. ¡°Observe.¡± He held up the bag and slid the entire length of his arm inside of it. It disappeared up to his shoulder, the bag showing no sign of disturbance from the outside.

    ¡°What the¡­¡± said Delilah. All three of them stared in open confusion.

    ¡°It¡¯s a Giant¡¯s Bag,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°It contains an extra-dimensional space, so the inside of the bag is larger than the outside would let on.¡±

    ¡°How much larger?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°Let me check,¡± Jeremiah said. ¡°No one touch the bag while I¡¯m doing this! Stay right there!¡±

    He placed the open bag on the ground and stepped both of his legs side. As he wiggled like he was pulling on a tight pair of pants, the opening of the bag stretched to accommodate him, until he pulled it up over his head.

    Jeremiah slowly descended into a misty abyss before touching down on an invisible surface. The light from the opening above him shone like a distant sun. He cast a simple light spell to reveal a realm of fog. He touched the floor and found no surface¡ªhis hand simply stopped moving forward. He walked with his arm outstretched, eventually reaching an invisible wall. Following the wall led him to another and another, until he had walked the perimeter of the small room. It was almost peaceful, a tiny place devoid of anything at all, wholly apart from the world. A gentle hop propelled him back towards that dim sun.

    He heard a shriek as he popped his head back into the room. ¡°Where did you go?¡± demanded Bruno. The three of them were collectively leaning forward, desperate to investigate but rooted by Jeremiah¡¯s warning.

    ¡°Literally nowhere,¡± said Jeremiah, climbing out. ¡°Inside this bag is a separate dimension, about twelve paces square. That means the bag can fit as much stuff as you¡¯d be able to put in a room that size.¡±

    Delilah leaned towards the bag as far as she could while staying seated. ¡°Can I go in?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± said Jeremiah, startling himself with his brusqueness. ¡°It¡¯s too dangerous. If the bag gets damaged¡ªlook at me!¡ªif the bag gets damaged, it breaks. If it breaks, the dimension ceases to be connected to the bag, and everything inside is¡ªkeep looking!¡ªgone forever. I¡¯m going to say that again: Gone. Forever.¡±

    Jeremiah let the silence hang in the air while he glared at them, Delilah in particular, until he was sure they understood. ¡°Okay. There¡¯s one more thing I want to test. I need a few objects to put in the bag.¡±

    After some debate about dish cleanliness, a small collection of silverware and a single mug were added to the Giant¡¯s bag. Jeremiah shook it, then held it towards his huddled friends. ¡°Reach in, while thinking of a spoon, and pull out the first thing you grab. Go on, try it!¡±

    After a long delay, Delilah was the first to step forward. She gingerly slid her hand inside the bag, and withdrew a spoon.

    ¡°Ta-da!¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°How is that different from a normal bag?¡± asked Allison.

    ¡°Will you wait one second? Alright, Delilah, I want you to reach in and think about¡­I don¡¯t know, a sock. Try to pull it out.¡± She came up empty handed. ¡°Now try a bucket. Now a rock. Now that mug.¡± Delilah retrieved the mug.

    ¡°Wait. What¡¯s happening?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°The bag knows what you¡¯re reaching for, so you¡¯ll always grab the thing you want. It¡¯s one of the main features¡ªwhatever you want is right on top, as long as it¡¯s in there,¡± Jeremiah watched Delilah turn the mug over and over in her hands. She was thinking fiercely.

    ¡°The bag¡­knows? How does the bag know what I¡¯m thinking?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I¡ªuhh, I don¡¯t know. Magic?¡± Jeremiah shrugged helplessly.

    As Allison and Bruno took turns testing the bag¡¯s retrieval capabilities, Delilah watched in silence. She seemed to be deep in thought. Then, as Allison was itemizing the impressive arsenal that could fit within the bag, Delilah spoke.

    ¡°T-the bag is mine.¡± Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates.

    Allison furrowed her brow. ¡°Well now, wait a minute. I could pack every kind of weapon, have on hand whatever load-out I need for the job.¡±

    Bruno glanced at Delilah and winked at Jeremiah. ¡°Yeah, I think it¡¯s definitely for the best that Allison gets the bag. I mean, I guess I could use it too. Allison, would you mind if I kept a few extra tools in there?¡±

    ¡°Stop,¡± said Delilah. ¡°We are not having this conversation. I carry  so  many bottles, vials, boxes, poultices, tonics, bandages, braces, bombs, salves, ointments, antitoxins, stimulants, depressants, poisons, tinctures, and salves, that I had to design an entire suit of armor,¡± she moved her hands around her body, outlining the corpulent leather onion she became while adventuring, ¡°just to carry it all while having a modicum of protection!¡±

    Bruno tapped his chin. ¡°You make a good point,¡± he said, ¡°but you seem to be getting on just fine with the system you¡¯ve got. Why mess with what already works? Allison is limited to only three weapons.¡±

    Delilah stared at him. ¡°Do you realize how much thought goes into what I¡¯m carrying? How selective I have to be just to be able to  move ? I am your doctor! The more I¡¯m able to bring, the greater my contribution! This is a  game changer  for me!¡± Her voice was growing towards an alarming pitch.

    ¡°You know,¡± started Jeremiah, intending to continue the ribbing. But Delilah turned towards him with an expression so full of hope that his commitment to the gag evaporated in an instant. ¡°I, uh, I agree with Delilah. She should get the bag.¡±

    ¡°You absolute sap,¡± said Bruno, rolling his eyes.

    ¡°Delilah, leave that poor boy alone. Of course you¡¯re getting the bag,¡± said Allison.

    "I am?¡± Delilah¡¯s head whipped from one person to the next, looking for any sign of dissent. Then she whooped, snatched the bag from Jeremiah¡¯s hands, and pranced around the room with it.

    Jeremiah couldn¡¯t help but grin as he watched her. Her joy made him want to celebrate too.

    Bruno clapped Jeremiah on the shoulder. "We probably should talk about how easily she played you,¡± he said, shaking his head.

    Jeremiah opened his mouth to reply when, like a bucket of ice water crashing over a pleasant dream, there was a knock at the door.

 Chapter 12. Metal Memories

    Chapter 12. Metal Memories

    Jeremiah filled the water pitcher and set it on the kitchen table. He wasn¡¯t sure what else to do. Billipop¡¯s latest summons dominated the room, a neat stack of papers on the table that somehow loomed over them.

    ¡°We learned some stuff while you were¡­recovering,¡± said Allison. She stared at the summons as though it were a viper about to strike. ¡°It¡¯s bad.¡±

    ¡°Very bad,¡± agreed Bruno. ¡°We thought we were dealing with a bunch of pissed off nobles with some revenge funds burning a whole in their pocket. Well, it is that too, but it¡¯s also something else.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean, ¡®something else¡¯?¡± asked Jeremiah. Bruno had a penchant for theatrics, but Jeremiah wasn¡¯t in the mood for a dramatic reveal.

    ¡°It means this is about more than money,¡± said Delilah. She was rapidly petting Gus in her lap as she spoke. ¡°It¡¯s a conspiracy, but one that digs deeper than I¡¯d thought possible. There¡¯s the lawsuits, yes, but there¡¯s other stuff too. Allison found out there are ongoing investigations into her military past. Bruno¡¯s contacts have been turning up arrested or dead.¡±

    ¡°Or terrified,¡± said Bruno. ¡°More scared of whoever is pulling strings than they are of starving without my help.¡±

    ¡°And there have been claims against my remaining land holdings,¡± said Delilah. ¡°Namely this house and the Tarnothy fortress, and with that my title.¡± Her voice was steady, but Jeremiah caught the look of fear in her eye.

    ¡°They want to erase us,¡± said Allison. ¡°My record is my life. There¡¯s a case moving through the military courts right now to take away several of my medals.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even know that was possible,¡± said Jeremiah. Besides his ignorance of military law, he hadn¡¯t known it was possible to transform his friend into the slumped, dejected woman before him.

    ¡°We¡¯re not just going to let that happen,¡± said Delilah, patting Allison on the shoulder. ¡°You won¡¯t have to return your medal, Allison, you earned it-¡±

    Allison sprang to her feet, letting Delilah¡¯s hand fall away. ¡°Yes, I will!¡± she said. ¡°These medals are awarded at the discretion of the kingdom. If that discretion changes, for whatever reason, they can take them back.¡±

    In a moment, Allison dashed to her room and returned with a small box. ¡°If the wrong verdict gets passed down, any of these could be forfeit.¡± She opened the box to reveal a collection of dozens of medals, stamped pins, and badges, polished to a high shine and meticulously arranged.

    Allison removed one badge, a red chevron, and held it to catch the light. ¡°There¡¯s stuff in my record that wasn¡¯t ever supposed to see the light of day. If they manage to dig it up, whoever is doing this¡­well, let¡¯s just say a couple of medals will be the least of my concerns.¡±

    Jeremiah suppressed a chill at her words. ¡°Who could even be doing something like this? A coordinated effort across the legal, military, and criminal worlds? And why?¡±

    ¡°The why is easy,¡± said Bruno. ¡°This is a personal vendetta¡ªan intelligent, targeted, attack meant to undermine us each where it hurts the most.¡±

    ¡°This is about removing our influence, systematically obliterating everything we¡¯ve worked to build,¡± said Delilah. ¡°It goes beyond revenge. Probably it ends with us dead as well, but before that, we¡¯ll be stripped of anything they can strip us of.¡±

    ¡°And we didn¡¯t even see it until now,¡± said Allison. She had settled heavily back into her chair, the moment of action costing her. ¡°They keep us distracting us with lawsuits focused on maintaining our resources so we don¡¯t even notice the smaller guerrilla attacks that will destroy us. Classic strategy.¡±

    Jeremiah shifted in his chair. ¡°Have you guys noticed them coming after me?¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    The others exchanged a glance. ¡°We looked into it,¡± said Delilah, ¡°but we weren¡¯t really sure what that would look like. You already quit necromancy, and you don¡¯t really have much of a network here. But it¡¯s hard to be sure, really. Maybe targeting us is targeting you.¡±

    Her response left Jeremiah feeling hollow. He wasn¡¯t sure if he was more bothered by the idea of someone trying to harm him through his friends, or by the idea that he was so unimportant, the conspirators couldn¡¯t think of any way to ruin his life. ¡°Any ideas for who might be behind it?¡± he said, changing the subject.

    ¡°Gotta be a war veteran-turned-lawyer who chose a life of crime,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Who else could influence all of our spheres like this? Especially so effectively, without leaving a trace? But no, we have no idea.¡±

    ¡°We can assume the conspiracy involves multiple strata of people,¡± said Delilah. ¡°I¡¯ve tried probing my contacts, but any string I pull just falls away without any real leads. Whoever is at the heart of it is operating so far behind the scenes they might as well be invisible.¡±

    ¡°So what did we even learn from all this?¡± demanded Jeremiah. He shoved backwards from the table and started pacing around the kitchen. ¡°We¡¯ve discovered there¡¯s a conspiracy to ruin us, but not just make us broke like we thought¡ªsomeone out there wants to tear down everything about our lives, and we don¡¯t even know the first thing about who they are!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve learned this enemy exists,¡± said Allison. ¡°We¡¯ve learned they have reach, power, and influence, and that we can¡¯t fight them in court like we¡¯ve been trying to do so far.¡±

    Jeremiah stopped pacing. ¡°So how do we fight? What can we even do?¡± His hands balled into fists at his side. He had never felt so powerless.

    Delilah appeared beside him, holding out Gus. ¡°Here,¡± she said, ¡°I think you need him more than I do right now.¡±

    Jeremiah forced a weak laugh as he accepted his own familiar. Gus nuzzled his hands, and he had to admit the toad¡¯s cool skin was comforting. Or maybe it was Delilah¡¯s arm around him as she guided him back to the table.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re all caught up now, Horse Lord,¡± said Bruno. ¡°We¡¯re at the part where we figure out what we¡¯re going to do about it.¡±

    ¡°I still say we go after anyone we can see,¡± said Allison. ¡°The lawyers, the nobles, the people whose names are on the paperwork. Become the aggressor, show them all we¡¯re not to be messed with, and suddenly whoever is pulling the strings won¡¯t have nearly as many bodies to hide behind.¡±

    ¡°It could take us years just to get through the first layer,¡± said Delilah. ¡°Yes, Bruno, even with whatever awful thing you¡¯ve just thought of.¡±

    ¡°Hey, for all you know I¡¯m planning to befriend them and win their loyalty with my charm and wit!¡± said Bruno, his wicked grin still in place.

    ¡°This is about influence, right?¡± asked Jeremiah. ¡°Whoever¡¯s doing this has pull over people, enough to control them and keep them quiet¡ªhow do we get some of that?¡±

    Delilah considered the question. ¡°It takes time. I have my own network, of course, but nothing that compares with what¡¯s happening here. To be able to coordinate something on this scale would take several lifetimes.¡±

    Allison cradled her medals box. ¡°Let¡¯s assume we don¡¯t want to wait that long.¡±

    ¡°Lifetimes¡­wait, what about that favor from Lord Marquette?¡± asked Jeremiah. ¡°He was too far gone to be involved in the conspiracy, but now he¡¯s back and he said he has a lifetime of connections.¡±

    Delilah nodded slowly. ¡°You¡¯re right. Marquette could be our trump card here. Granted, I don¡¯t know how he could make a difference¡ªeven the King¡¯s hands are tied. But you never know with these things. I¡¯ll follow up with him. Good thinking, Jay.¡±

    Jeremiah was sure to curtail the smile spreading across his face at Delilah¡¯s praise as she continued. ¡°I do warn you all, though, even a favor may not be straightforward. I expect, with the levels of influence we¡¯re talking about here, a favor might just be a conversation with someone who matters. I also don¡¯t know who we may be talking to¡ªyou should all be prepared to leave Dramir at a moment¡¯s notice.¡±

    ¡°Leave?¡± asked Allison. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be like abandoning our position? How can we defend ourselves against the conspiracy if we¡¯re not in Dramir?¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t,¡± said Delilah. ¡°But think of it more like a tactical retreat. We may lose some ground,¡± she swallowed as she looked around their house, ¡°but it¡¯s to have a chance at winning the war.¡±

    Allison slumped back again. ¡°Never did like retreating,¡± she grumbled.

    ¡°Allison,¡± said Jeremiah, looking around the table at his friends. ¡°Everyone¡­I won¡¯t let them beat us. No matter what happens, as long as we¡¯re together, we can win this. We will win this!¡±

    ¡°Both corny and inspiring,¡± said Bruno, clapping Jeremiah on the back. ¡°I expected nothing less.¡±

 ? ? ? Chapter 13. Decorum

    ?

    ?

    ?Chapter 13. Decorum

    It was several weeks before anything came of Marquette¡¯s favor. It came about, in typically dramatic fashion, past midnight, as a knock at Jeremiah¡¯s bedroom door.

    ¡°Whas goin on,¡± mumbled Jeremiah, squinting at Delilah¡¯s lantern.

    ¡°Pack your things,¡± said Delilah. ¡°Prepare for anything. We¡¯re leaving.¡±

    ¡°Tonight?¡± With the surge of adrenaline, Jeremiah¡¯s mind flooded with a panicked jumble of tasks and to-do¡¯s, none of which were very important.

    ¡°Now.¡±

    Jeremiah rushed around his room, haphazardly packing his bag in the dark, and ran down the stairs after her. His heart thudded as he took in the scene. Bruno was pacing, a leather bag over his shoulder. He could hear Allison and Delilah¡¯s muffled voices from Allison¡¯s room. From the sounds of it, they were working out how much of Allison¡¯s arsenal would fit among Delilah¡¯s things in the Giant¡¯s Bag.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Jeremiah asked. He looked to Bruno, hoping some pithy explanation would aid his understanding.

    ¡°Got me, this is all Delilah,¡± said Bruno. ¡°She won¡¯t tell us anything besides there¡¯s a carriage coming. I will say I¡¯m not a fan of hasty jobs to desperate people, but she¡¯s got that lawyer voice going on, so I do as I¡¯m told.¡±

    The only revelers left awake in the city at this hour were too drunk to pay the travelers any notice. Lightly leaden, their carriage rocked more than normal as they rumbled and creaked through the gates of Dramir. Most of their possessions had been placed into Delilah¡¯s Giant¡¯s Bag to, minus the gear they would need in case of an ambush.

    Finally they were rolling along the quiet roads of Dramir¡¯s surrounding farmland. ¡°Alright, can we talk?¡± Jeremiah asked.

    Delilah shook her head and pointed toward the front of the carriage, indicating the driver might be listening. Bruno opened the carriage door, leaning out over the road.

    ¡°Whose ee¡¯ pullin?¡± he called up to the driver.

    ¡°Just summee gander sir, just a nightie.¡± the driver called back in an accent heavy with gnomish influence.

    ¡°Feefee Trick? That you, brother? It¡¯s Riddy Tom!¡± said Bruno.

    Delilah crossed her arms and sighed.

    ¡°Oh, Mr. Tom! Didn¡¯t know tita too! Simpapa free, then?¡±

    They continued back and forth in gnomish, each using a spare hand to gesticulate wildly. Finally, Bruno returned to the carriage ¡°Feefee¡¯s a goodun. He¡¯ll keep anything quiet.¡±

    ¡°Do you know  everyone  in this city?¡± Allison asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll put it this way¡ªwhenever someone dismisses another person¡¯s presence, I make it my business to get in good with the dismissed. I get more info from scullery maids, dung shovelers and carriage drivers than I do from the professional skulks.¡±

    Despite Bruno¡¯s reassurance, Delilah motioned them to huddle close and spoke in a barely-audible tone. ¡°We¡¯re going to Elminia. We got a job offer, I don¡¯t know what or who for. But they demand utmost discretion and a tight timeline. From the way they¡¯re handling everything, this has to be for someone big. We can only hope they¡¯re bigger than the conspiracy.¡±

    ¡°Elminia is a long trip,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Correct,¡± said Delilah. ¡°We need to meet our contact at a specific street corner, at a specific time, and we get one chance to be there. If we miss it, offer¡¯s closed. And we don¡¯t have any more favors to cash in.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I consider myself a bit on the naive side, but that sounds fishy even to me,¡± said Jeremiah. Allison and Bruno grunted their agreement.

    ¡°I know! Believe me, I know. But I¡¯ve checked it out in all the ways I can, and I do trust the source. I ask for your trust in turn. Don¡¯t let your guard down or anything, but let¡¯s do our best to approach this in good faith. Agreed?¡±

    They agreed. ¡° Not like we have any better options ,¡± thought Jeremiah.

    The boring two-week carriage ride proved a grand opportunity to focus on enchanting. Jeremiah¡¯s frenzied packing had included anything he could conceive of as being useful, which meant the books and materials Thurok had lent him had found their way into Delilah¡¯s bag. After the sun rose enough to read by, he set about his new plan to identify the unknown rune.

    ¡°Should we get you your own carriage?¡± asked Bruno, trying to shift position without ruining Jeremiah¡¯s setup. There were two enchanting books open on the floor and a third propped against Allison¡¯s dozing form.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°This is tricky stuff. It¡¯s quite literally finding the definition of a word no one knows.¡±

    ¡°How does that work?¡± Delilah asked.

    ¡°Sometimes you can draw clues from what other known runes it looks like.¡± He braced the plate in his lap and drew a short, thin wax line. He had learned that shorter lines were less likely to be ruined by bumps along the road. ¡°You can also plug it into known enchantments and see how it changes the result. That¡¯s what I''m working on now. Usually you use one technique to inform the other, back and forth, till you get it.¡±

    ¡°Isolating your variables, I get that,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Mm-hm,¡± said Jeremiah. He had no idea what that meant.

    It was five days into their journey when the effort paid off. ¡°It works!¡± Jeremiah announced, startling everyone from their travel hypnosis.

    ¡°Gods, why would you yell? Who does that?¡± asked Allison, resheathing a dagger.

    ¡°Look, look, look!¡± said Jeremiah, holding up his plate. The glow of magic had just begun fading from the runes inscribed upon the face of the metal. He picked up a rasp and dragged it across the metal, leaving no sign or mar.

    Bruno closed his eyes again.

    ¡°Elaborate,¡± said Delilah, without lifting her head from its spot against the window.

    ¡°It¡¯s a Strengthen rune, I finally got it to actually work!¡± His friends¡¯ listlessness couldn¡¯t dampen the swell of pride Jeremiah felt. ¡°Thurok wouldn¡¯t tell me why, but it¡¯s just like the backpacks. ¡®Strengthen, Pause,¡¯ which I had been using, doesn¡¯t give the enchantment a chance to work. Or it does, but only for an instant.¡±

    Delilah blinked. ¡°One rune says to strengthen the material, the other says to stop. You had them placed too close together¡­or something.¡±

    ¡°More or less, yeah. I had to slow the magic down. So I expanded the diagram to go all over the place first, so it takes longer to activate the Pause rune,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Allison rubbed her eyes and peered at the plate. ¡°Is that why it looks like two spiderwebs stacked together?¡±

    Jeremiah nodded, patting the plate. ¡°Pretty ingenious, I think.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say nodes and conduits alter the flow and properties of magic in diagrams?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s true,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Could you have used one of those to slow down the magic traveling between the runes?¡±

    Jeremiah took a breath to answer, but didn¡¯t. A truth slowly broke over him, one that made his hand ache profusely and cast the last few days in a miserable light. ¡°Yes. That is also a thing I could have done.¡±

    Delilah smiled at him. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Good job, Jay. Really. You¡¯re making progress.¡±

    Jeremiah fought back a fleck of bitterness. ¡°You¡¯re right, I am. And this means I finally have a tool to start testing our unknown rune.¡±

    ¡°Proud of you,¡± crooned Bruno, without opening his eyes. ¡°Now, don¡¯t wake me up again until it¡¯s time for magic daggers.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    They rode towards gathered storm clouds on the final day of their journey. Jeremiah carving a line in his plate in the start-stop rhythm he had grown quite adept at during the journey. His tests hadn¡¯t yet elucidated the meaning of the rune, but he felt he had to be getting close. It would take some time though, as he was resorting to a guess-and-check method that he was sure Thurok would disapprove of. He brushed some metal shavings from the line and was startled when his fingertips came away blackened.

    ¡°Elminia is a little¡­industrious,¡± said Allison.

    Jeremiah looked to the looming clouds with new understanding. Crawling across the horizon was an atmosphere of heavy black smoke. Soon, the single immense tower of Elminia¡¯s palace appeared, wearing the smog like a thick woolen scarf. Soon the city proper came into view. With no monolithic wall to separate it from the countryside, the sprout of huts simply grew taller and denser until they formed a great labyrinth of buildings, stacked haphazardly at dangerous angles.

    Their carriage rumbled past the first jagged teeth of the city. The streets were packed with carts, animals, and people. While Dramir always bustled with a pleasant vibrant life, the hum in Elminia was different. It felt dangerous and pervasive, like a hive of wasps. ¡°This place is kind of overwhelming,¡± Jeremiah said.

    "Oh yes!¡± Delilah was beaming. ¡°Elminia is extremely resource rich, between coal, oil, and ore. It''s like a great kiln where ambition is forged into success or failure. Elminia produces more technological, economic, and scientific advancements than anywhere else in the world!¡±

    "Elminia is a chewing mouth," Bruno whispered to Jeremiah, ¡°and if you don¡¯t have the right flavor, you get spit out into the Pit.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the Pit?¡± Jeremiah whispered back.

    ¡°I thought the metaphor was pretty self explanatory,¡± said Bruno. ¡°It¡¯s where the lowest of the low and the poorest of the poor live. It also happens to be a literal massive hole in the ground

    Delilah enthusiasm continued unabated. ¡°Elminia is a risk. A hundred rolls of the dice, a free spin of the wheel, a peek at the top card, but only for those brave enough to bet on themselves!¡± She finished her speech with a raised fist, accepting the challenge.

    ¡°Surprised you don¡¯t live here,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Oh, no thanks,¡± said Delilah, crashing back to baseline, ¡°it smells funny here. Architecture is¡­uninspired? And there¡¯s a truly astonishing number of fires.¡±

    "Bad food, worse people, great bars, excellent steel," said Allison. "Oh, and huge guard corp! Incredibly well funded.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s gotten bigger since I was last here,¡± said Bruno, his eyes darting about.

    ¡°Never stops growing,¡± said Delilah, ¡°the empress has been notable in her policies of unregulated expansion and construction.¡±

    The palace tower stood at the center of the city like a harpoon that piercing the earth. In addition, Jeremiah spotted little nodes of wealth. The hypnotic repetition of dirty, leaning tenements would suddenly coagulate into a fortified street of more sophisticated architecture, tiny islands of generational stability in a sea of roiling ambition.

    ¡°We¡¯re getting close,¡± said Delilah. She leaned out the window and yelled up to the driver, ¡°We¡¯re headed to the corner of Museus Boulevard and Tornn Avenue.¡± Bruno glared at her. ¡°What? Oh, umm, please and thank you, driver,¡± she added. Jeremiah noticed she had forgotten the driver¡¯s name. Then again, he had too.

    ¡°Bruno, run ahead and make sure this isn¡¯t an ambush, yeah?¡± asked Allison. Bruno was out of the carriage and vanished into the crowd before she could even finish the request.

    ¡°You¡¯re sure this is a good contact?¡± Jeremiah asked Delilah.

    She looked him square in the eye and nodded. ¡°Absolutely. Or, if it¡¯s a trap, it¡¯s overly elaborate and they deserve to get killed by us.¡±

    The carriage turned down another street, identical to many of the others. Jeremiah kept felling compelled to craning his neck upwards. Elminia¡¯s buildings all seemed to have settled into a state just shy of collapse.

    Bruno leapt back into the carriage, startling them. ¡°No ambush I can detect. I think we¡¯re in the clear.¡±

    The carriage bumped to a halt a few minutes later. ¡°Here¡¯s we is, ma¡¯am,¡± called Feefee from the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Museus n¡¯ Tornn.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, erm, driver,¡± said Delilah. They gathered their belongings and disembarked. With a final wave to Bruno, the carriage and driver merged into the streets of Elminia, becoming one more player in the symphony of noise.

    ¡°What now?¡± asked Allison.

    ¡°Now, we wait till someone¡ªoh!¡± A stranger had hooked his arm in Delilah¡¯s, like a couple out for a stroll. He hadn¡¯t managed two steps before Bruno had draped an fraternal arm across the man¡¯s shoulders, an accompanying friend. Allison and Jeremiah had to press their way through the jostling crowd to keep Delilah in their sights.

    The new acquaintance was a human man dressed in finery. He was pontificating about the coal industry, audible even over the hum of the city. Bruno bantered with the man while Delilah was pulled along awkwardly. Jeremiah saw a brief glimmer of metal underneath Bruno¡¯s hand, likely a blade positioned to slip into the man¡¯s neck at a moment¡¯s notice.

    Finally the man altered course and diverted them into a hat shop. ¡°Here we are!¡± he announced. An old gnome at the counter fastidiously sewed a patch onto a cap. He didn¡¯t acknowledge their arrival.

    ¡°Hello, friend haberdasher!¡± said the well-dressed man, still tightly arm in arm with Delilah.

    ¡°Hullo,¡± said the haberdasher.

    ¡°I¡¯m in the market for your finest bonnet, with matching satin wings and a tulip,¡± the man declared.

    The gnome harrumphed and did not look up from his work as he waved them past the counter and towards the back rooms. Jeremiah noted as they passed that there was a small crossbow under the counter, bolt set and ready to fire.

    A false wall at the back of the shop clicked open, revealing a secret stair. ¡°Off,¡± said Delilah, shoving the man away as soon as they reached the bottom.

    The man led them down a cramped tunnel. Jeremiah sensed other tunnels branching off into the darkness, a sprawling network beneath Elminia. The only light came from the occasional slits of sunlight that made their way through tiny metal grates over their heads. ¡°Does every city have these?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Bruno. ¡°But Elminia has even more than just your standard tunnels. Even further below these are entire ancient abandoned cities, all linked up together by kobold dens. Used to be the city would send groups down to try and clear out the kobolds, but they gave up ages ago. Now these tunnels are the only ones anyone uses.¡±

    Their guide made several attempts at conversation as they walked, which were rebuffed. Jeremiah sensed the tension mounting in his friends as they finally approached the conclusion of their journey.

    At last they reached a miniscule door, hardly larger than a cupboard, upon which their guide rapped a series of complex knocks. With a metallic click, the door ground opened to reveal a pair of fully armored elven guards, clad in armor gilded with looping golden embellishments. Both had a spear leveled at the open doorway.

    The guide closed his eyes, his face a mask of concentration, ¡°Six, six, six, six, six, five, five, five, five, five, five, three, three, two, two, two, and that¡¯s it. And you say ¡®that¡¯s it¡¯.¡± The guards raised their spears, and stepped aside. The guide gave Delilah a curt nod and disappeared back the way they¡¯d come.

    Jeremiah followed Delilah through the door and found himself in a hallway utterly unlike the previous. In fact, it reminded him much more of the palace in Dramir.

    ¡°Ah, shit,¡± he heard Allison say as she emerged behind him.

    ¡°Are we¡­¡± Delilah trailed off as she took in the mosaic marble floors, the immense vases holding trees formed a canopy across the ceiling, the portraits depicting royal and noble figures of elven descent. ¡°Oh my gods, we are!¡±

    ¡°Lady Fortune,¡± said one of the guards, ¡°you and your entourage are to follow us. You are to follow us at all times. Open no doors, do not stray. If any of you, any  one  of you,¡± the guard eyed Bruno, ¡°disobeys an order, all of your lives will be taken immediately. Do you understand?¡±

    Delilah nodded dutifully. ¡°Yes sir. Can I ask where we¡¯re going?¡±

    ¡°You are to meet with the Empress Aubrianna. You will be respectful in the presence of the Empress. You will kneel in the presence of the Empress until given permission to stand.¡±

    ¡°What if I need to¡ªOW!¡± Before he could finish his remark, the guard behind Bruno pressed a spearpoint between his shoulder blades. The leading guard spun on his heel and closed the distance to Bruno in an instant, his hand darting out to close around Bruno¡¯s neck before he could react.

    The guard strangled Bruno with complete dispassion, squeezing so tightly Bruno¡¯s eyes bulged. Bruno swiped at the guard¡¯s gauntlet, then spasmed as the spear point pressed again into his back. ¡°Please do not make any jests during this meeting,¡± said the guard. ¡°Nor sarcastic remarks. The Empress is quite busy and we request that you respect her time.¡±

    Allison moved to break them up, but Delilah grabbed her arm, eyes glued to Bruno¡¯s face, which was turning a blotchy red. Bruno¡¯s attempts to dislodge the guard¡¯s grip became weaker until his eyes fluttered. Only then did the guard release him, letting him fall to sputter and gag on the floor.

    ¡°Your cooperation is assumed and appreciated. Come along,¡± said the guard. The bruised outlines of armored fingers were already appearing around Bruno¡¯s neck.

    As they followed, Delilah tended to Bruno¡¯s bleary staggering by striking him on the shoulder repeatedly. ¡°What is wrong with you?¡± she hissed. ¡°We are about to meet  Empress Aubrianna!  She¡¯s an elector for the crown of Dramir! She voted for King Hector! She¡¯s going to vote for  me  one day!¡± Each statement was underlined with another blow.

    ¡°Anyone else not thrilled about this revelation?¡± Jeremiah asked. He was noticing the lack of people in the palace. They had not passed a single a servant or attendant. It all seemed quite ominous.

    ¡°Not thrilled,¡± said Allison. That was an understatement¡ªshe looked like she was walking to her own execution.

    ¡°No, hush!¡± said Delilah. ¡°Listen everyone, this is the real deal. If anyone can help us escape the conspiracy in Dramir, it¡¯s Empress Aubrianna! I have no idea what she¡¯s going to ask for, but we  need  to get her on our side. We are never going to get another chance like this!¡±

    At her words, Allison¡¯s grave expression only deepened. The knot in Jeremiah¡¯s stomach grew tighter. The secrecy, Allison¡¯s worry, their need to accept this job, whatever it was¡ªit was all making him miss his early days as a necromancer, when he could simply skip town when things got rough. ¡° But I didn¡¯t have my family then,¡±  he reminded himself. Despite everything, this was better.

    Delilah flitted and fretted over the impending meeting, somehow pacing back and forth even as they walked. They finally stopped before an unassuming door, identical to many they had passed. The guard addressed them once more, his voice never wavering from bland monotone. ¡°Empress Aubrianna awaits through this door. You may take time to compose yourselves. Past this threshold, your lives are in the utmost jeopardy. You have never been closer to death than when you enter this room.¡±

    Jeremiah and his friends arrayed themselves to enter. Delilah checked briefly with each of them. She held Jeremiah¡¯s eye for a long moment before he nodded his readiness.

    The guard¡¯s eyes flicked once more towards Bruno, then he pushed open the door.

 Chapter 14. Walking the Garden

    Chapter 14. Walking the Garden

    Jeremiah was used to the meeting rooms of a palace being less ornate than the highly visible halls, but he did not expect the room in which they were to meet Empress of Elminia to be an empty grey cube. The walls were bereft of adornments, and the cold stone leached the heat from their bodies. It nearly matched the interior of the Giant¡¯s Bag, save for a series of shallow steps that spanned the width of the far wall and led to a slightly raised platform.

    Upon that platform, the sun rose on the radiant splendor that was the Empress Aubrianna, and set on the dark figure beside her. As he sank to a knee, Jeremiah tried not to stare. The empress was a sculptor''s masterpiece, perfectly still as she observed Jeremiah and his friends. She wore a brilliant white gown of office, high collared and flared on the hem. Atop her head was a wicked-looking crown, spears of gold reaching toward the ceiling like stalactites and adorned with immense gemstones. While beautiful, the entire regalia threatened violence.

    Another elven woman stood beside Empress Aubrianna. This one made no suggestions of violence¡ªshe promised it. Her bright red hair contrasted black leather armor studded with silver rivets. Jeremiah realized the rivets were actually the pommels of dozens of slender knives, and when Jeremiah met her gaze entirely by accident, he knew he was looking into the eyes of a predator.

    ¡°Woah,¡± Bruno croaked. Jeremiah glanced over and saw Bruno was making no illusions about his opinion on the red haired woman¡¯s appearance.

    ¡°You may rise,¡± said the empress. Her voice was clear as a bell. ¡°I have brought you before me to request your aid. I have heard the tale of your endeavor in Dramir. Our mutual friend inspires my confidence that you will accept my request, and succeed in its completion.¡± Her voice hurt Jeremiah¡¯s ears. She was way too loud, like she was accustomed to a larger room.

    Delilah immediately filled the silence. ¡°We are humbled to be trusted by you. Pray though, Empress Aubrianna, we do not know the purpose for which we are summoned.¡± Jeremiah noticed with pride that Delilah had smothered even the slightest hint of nerves.

    ¡°I have brought you here, Lady Fortune, in order to¡­what?¡± The other woman had nudged her. No words were spoken between the women, but when the empress continued, her voice was a normal speaking volume. ¡°I have brought you here, Lady Fortune, because I have been made aware you are victims of a conspiracy in Dramir. I wish to offer an opportunity for you to leverage your talents in exchange for the dissolution of this conspiracy.¡±

    ¡°With all due respect, Empress, may we have the pleasure of an introduction to your attendant?¡± asked Bruno. He sounded strained, but he had admirably recruited his ¡°make fun of the nobility¡± voice into an ¡°address the nobility¡± voice.

    Another shared look between Empress and attendant. ¡°I am Ka, royal spymaster of Empress Aubrianna,¡± said the woman. She had addressed Bruno directly, and the two of them were now staring unabashedly at each other. It took no small amount of willpower for Jeremiah not to roll his eyes.

    ¡°Oh no¡­¡± Allison sighed.

    Delilah stiffened, but didn¡¯t falter. ¡°A pleasure and privilege to meet you, Spymaster Ka.¡±

    ¡°Likewise,¡± said Ka. She didn¡¯t look away from Bruno, and Bruno didn¡¯t look away from her.

    Empress Aubrianna closed her eyes. ¡°Spymaster Ka, would you please¡­you know what, never mind. Let us just speak freely, you already made it weird.¡±

    ¡°I did not,¡± said Ka quietly.

    A silence followed the empress¡¯s declaration. Delilah seemed at a loss to continue the conversation without formal decorum as a guide.

    Then Allison broke the silence. ¡°This is a black-op, isn¡¯t it, Empress?¡±

    Ka broke her staring contest with Bruno to reexamine Allison. ¡°You have experience with this term, Captain Allday?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°What¡¯s a black-op?¡± Delilah asked.

    ¡°It means a job we do for the empress, that the empress will deny she requested,¡± said Allison. Her posture had stiffened to military attention.

    ¡°Like a secret mission?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    Allison shook her head. ¡°Worse. They¡¯ll pretend it never happened. It means they want us to do something horrific.¡± Allison¡¯s voice carried the slightest hint of disdain.

    Delilah laughed nervously. ¡°What Captain Allday means is that we¡¯d like more information about your request. And, maybe, you can tell us exactly how you¡¯d help with our predicament?¡±

    Empress Aubrianna held her gaze on Allison a moment longer before answering Delilah. ¡°Lady Fortune. Our city has seen a series of murders. These murders have been increasing in frequency, and are notable in their brutality and method of execution.¡±

    ¡°A serial killer?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°A cult,¡± said Ka. ¡°The killings, and their aftermath, are about spectacle.¡±

    ¡°Targets are random?¡± asked Delilah.

    Ka nodded. ¡°Seemingly. My people haven¡¯t had any luck infiltrating to learn more. Likely they¡¯re all known elements. Our generous reward offers have had no legitimate takers, so those involved are extremely committed.¡± She spoke to Bruno now. Exclusively to Bruno.

    ¡°True believers,¡± Bruno said.

    ¡°So you want us to¡­?¡± Delilah said, letting the question hang.

    ¡°Fix it,¡± Allison said. ¡°By any means necessary, they just want us to fix it.¡± She was trying, but the disdain was still there.

    ¡°Captain Allday is correct, if curt,¡± said Empress Aubrianna. ¡°Captain Allday, you will  not  presume to answer questions asked of me, is that understood?¡± The edge of stern authority flared in her words.

    ¡°What¡¯s the method of murder?¡± Jeremiah asked. The conversation was happening around him, and he felt the need to be involved somehow.

    ¡°Appears to be ritual stabbing, roughly,¡± Ka answered.

    ¡°A rough stabbing? Or like, mostly a stabbing?¡± Jeremiah asked.

    Ka¡¯s face twisted in a facsimile of a smile. Her eyes flicked over Jeremiah, top to bottom. ¡°I mean each murder was committed with a particular kind of knife. But given the variety of perpetrators, results are varied. Sometimes embellished.¡±

    Jeremiah could sense her answer was off. Ka and the empress were hiding something, but he wasn¡¯t sure how to probe deeper.

    ¡°Resources?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°Can¡¯t give you much,¡± said Ka. ¡°Some gold, a decent safehouse, and the promise of an incompetent prosecutor if things go south.¡±

    ¡°Wait, prosecutor?¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°They won¡¯t acknowledge we¡¯re acting on their behalf.¡± Allison¡¯s answer was stoic. ¡°They won¡¯t grant us any favors. If we¡¯re caught doing something illegal, we¡¯re liable. Just like anyone else.¡±

    ¡°Not that you need to do anything illegal,¡± Empress Aubrianna said, ¡°but Captain Allday is correct. Any preferential treatment would implicate us.¡±

    ¡° Somehow that sounds worse ,¡± thought Jeremiah. The idea of an Empress privately condoning immoral actions churned his stomach.

    ¡°In exchange, the conspiracy against you and your party will be resolved,¡± said Empress Aubrianna.

    ¡°¡®Resolved¡¯, Empress?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°Ended,¡± Empress Aubrianna said.

    Delilah looked at Jeremiah, concern written all over her face. What was she trying to tell him? ¡°It sounds like you¡¯re going to have a bunch of people killed,¡± he guessed.

    Empress Aubrianna and Ka exchanged a glance. Ka nodded. ¡°Yes,¡± the empress said.

    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­we would probably rather you not do that,¡± Jeremiah said.

    ¡°Spymaster Ka, can Lady Fortune¡¯s troubles be resolved in a more diplomatic manner?¡± Aubrianna asked.

    ¡°Less straightforward, but yes.¡±

    ¡°I hope that satisfies you, Mister¡­¡± Empress Aubrianna paused, observing at Jeremiah with an inquisitive tilt of her head, as much as the crown would allow. ¡°You are Jeremiah Thorn, the necromancer, yes?¡±

    ¡°I was, Empress, yes.¡±

    ¡°Was?¡±

    ¡°I have since given up Necromancy, after the happenings in Dramir.¡± Jeremiah knew which question coming next.

    ¡°So what I¡¯ve heard is true. But what I¡¯ve not heard yet, is why?¡± Aubrianna squinted in study of him.

    ¡°Too much responsibility for someone like me, Empress. My mistakes cost people their lives. It¡¯s power I do not want. The stakes are too high, the consequences too costly, and my actions weigh too heavily on my heart.¡± It had taken Jeremiah a long time to be able to articulate why he had given up the craft, and longer still to become comfortable saying so.

    ¡°I see,¡± said Aubrianna. Another silent conversation between her and Ka, this one longer than ever.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    When it was finished, Ka spoke. ¡°The terms are set. Destroy or reveal this cult and its leaders, and your conspirators will be dealt with. In a non-lethal manner. You will receive a password with which to contact us¡ª speak it to a palace guard only when you have information we can act on, or the cult is destroyed. Questions?¡±

    ¡°The gold?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°Already at the safehouse, an apartment across from The Rambling Inn. Pick the door lock to gain entry, a set of keys are inside. If you accept and are successful in this task, we will meet again upon your extraction. If you refuse or fail, we will never speak again. Good day.¡±

    ¡°The guard¡¯s will bring you back to the tunnel from which you entered,¡± said Empress Aubrianna. Then, to Jeremiah¡¯s shock, she added, ¡°Mr. Thorn, I wonder if you might join me for a brief foray into the gardens  after your colleagues depart?¡±

    ¡°Um?¡± said Jeremiah. He heard a combination of snickers and gasps from his friends and didn¡¯t dare turn to see the look Delilah was giving him.

    ¡°This is unrelated to the mission, Mr. Thorn. My interest is entirely personal.¡± The smile she gave him curled his toes and stood his hairs on end.

    ¡°Oh shit,¡±  Jeremiah nearly said, but managed to choke it into just a thought.

    ¡°I would be okay with that,¡± he said, glancing at the floor. He could feel his friends stares boring into the back of his head.

    ¡°Mr. Thorn will be returned to you once we¡¯ve had some time to talk,¡± said the empress.

    That smile again. ¡° This is what fish feel like when they see worms on hooks. ¡±

    ¡°When you¡¯re ready, Mr. Thorn,¡± said Ka. She and Empress Aubrianna took their leave, the side door left ajar as an invitation to follow.

    Suddenly Jeremiah was surrounded by Bruno, Allison, and Delilah, all competing for his ear.

    ¡°You need to tell me  everything .¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t agree to anything she asks!¡±

    ¡°Offer your arm, but don¡¯t  take  her arm,¡±

    ¡°No! Don¡¯t even touch her!¡±

    ¡°Put in a good word for me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, me too.¡±

    ¡°Just smile and nod, no matter what she says.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you  dare  kiss her!¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    The three voices came in such a torrent that Jeremiah couldn¡¯t tell who was saying what. ¡°Hey, back off now! She probably just wants to ask me to raise some dead guy, that¡¯s usually what people want to talk about.¡±

    Delilah crossed her arms, scowling. ¡°Except you already told her you don¡¯t do that anymore.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± said Jeremiah. He rubbed the back of his neck to relieve the growing heat of embarrassment.

    ¡°Just keep it professional,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°No! No, absolutely not!¡± said Bruno, stepping between Jeremiah and the others. ¡°Jay, don¡¯t you listen to these she-devils. You haven¡¯t had the time to so much as  glance  at a woman since we met you. Go have yourself some fun.¡± He slapped Jeremiah on the back and shoved him towards the door. ¡°Now, I better see some swagger in your step!¡±

    The sting of the slap gave Jeremiah a boost of confidence. ¡°Can¡¯t let Allison have all the fun, right?¡± he said, and did his best to swagger out of the room.

    ?

    The space beyond the door was black as pitch. As soon as he passed the threshold, it slammed shut behind him.

    "Arms out. Good. Spread your legs. Open your mouth. Good.¡± Ka''s hands took liberties in their search that made him jump. Then the hands retracted. It was deathly quiet. "You get the frog back when you leave.¡±

    "That''s my familiar!" Jeremiah protested. His hands went to Gus''s empty. He hadn¡¯t even felt Ka take him.

    "He''s a blue spine, and I''ll not have him in proximity to the Empress. Swallow."

    Jeremiah swallowed, and something tiny that he hadn¡¯t known was his mouth went down his throat.

    "You''ve just been poisoned. You get the antidote if the meeting ends without incident. Walk forward till you reach a door, then push.¡±

    Jeremiah decided to simply do as he was told. After a few hesitant steps, his palms pressed against wood. He pushed, and a beam of light appeared around the edge of the door.

    The scent of fertile soil and flower blossoms hit Jeremiah like a heady perfume as he stepped into a rainforest. Trees reached towards the gabled ceiling high above, the floor was rich with bursts of color, and flowering vines scrawled across everything like illuminated script. It was an awe-inspiring feat of gardening.

    Waiting quite intentionally amidst the greenery was the Empress. Like marble, she stood in stark contrast against the panoply of natural colors. She smiled at Jeremiah, but made no motion otherwise.

    "Alright, time to be charming and confident," thought Jeremiah as he gingerly stepped through the foliage,  "because that''s what charming and confident people do, remind themselves to be charming and confident.¡±

    There was no obvious path through the greenery, but Aubrianna waited with patient bemusement for Jeremiah to tiptoe and hop around the delicate plants as he made his way over. He assumed it was some kind of power play to make him prance around just to reach her.

    In the final few steps Jeremiah chose to close beyond typical speaking distance. Close, but not too close. He took some satisfaction as her eyes widened just a little at his proximity. "Thank you for the invitation, Empress,¡± he said. ¡°It''s quite lovely here.¡± He ensured his eyes held hers as he said it.

    Empress Aubrianna was only slightly taller than him, sans crown, but as she recovered from Jeremiah''s unexpected flirtation, that authority returned, and Jeremiah found himself unsure of what to say next. ¡° Well, it was fun while it lasted. ¡±

    "Shall I give you a tour?" the empress asked.

    "Sure," said Jeremiah gratefully.

    She led him through the pathless garden, pointing out particular plants of interest and sharing facts about their properties. It seemed she maintained this garden herself. Jeremiah tried to listen as he avoided crushing the more delicate plants underfoot. Empress Aubrianna had no such compulsion and simply let her feet fall where they may.

    ¡°I apologize, you must find this quite boring,¡± the empress said, after a time. ¡°Perhaps you would like to tell me of your adventure defeating the elven renegade that threatened Dramir?¡±

    ¡°Apologies, Empress. I just don¡¯t have much of a mind for plants,¡± said Jeremiah, ignoring her question. He really didn¡¯t want to talk about that.

    ¡°Yet I watch you step so carefully. Why is that?¡±

    It was a strange question to Jeremiah. ¡°Because¡­I don¡¯t want to hurt the plants?¡±

    She gave him a different sort of smile, more genuine. ¡°Your thoughtfulness is noted. You have my permission to step where you please, I will not be offended.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Jeremiah, though he still had no intention of stepping on the plants if he could help it.

    ¡°So? Your adventure?¡± she asked. He was about to request they skip that particular topic, but she had turned to face him directly, and it was hard to refuse. Reluctantly, he recounted some of what had happened, leaving out some of the more personal or painful details. He was starting to feel uncomfortable in her presence.

    ¡°Ah yes, I heard about the treasures of Dramir that were lost with the renegade,¡± the Empress said. ¡°If you were to tell me the location of the final resting place of the renegade, we could negotiate a much more favorable solution to your dilemma. No need for clandestine quests or cloak and shadow nonsense.¡± Her smile hardened just a little.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Empress, but I swore that I would never reveal any information about Vivica¡¯s final resting place,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°There is no consequence I cannot protect your from Mr. Thorn, and more than a few boons that I could bestow onto you as well.¡±

    ¡°With respect, I don¡¯t know exactly where her final resting place is. Nor am I completely sure that she¡¯s at rest,¡± said Jeremiah. He would have given anything to get off this topic.

    ¡°She¡¯s¡­alive?¡± asked Empress Aubrianna. The horror of the implication fractured her smile.

    ¡°I sincerely do not believe so, but I don¡¯t know for sure. I would not be surprised if she were though,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°I apologize for my forthrightness, it was ingracious of me.¡± They began  walking again. ¡°So, Mr. Thorn, what do you think of Elminia?¡±

    Jeremiah breathed an inward sigh of relief. ¡°It stands in sharp contrast to where we are now.¡±

    She laughed like a crystal chime, and all of Jeremiah¡¯s discomfort fled, ¡°Indeed. I think of Elminia as another sort of garden, one that I¡¯m allowing to grow wild. Please understand, my lifespan is much longer than a human¡¯s, so I see far beyond the now.¡±

    ¡°What do you see so far beyond my years?¡± he asked.

    ¡°A long period of turmoil, sadly, as my people struggle under the weight of their choices. I have faith that, with gentle guidance, they will grow to no longer need me, or any master.¡± Empress Aubrianna gazed serenely up at the canopy. It was difficult not to stare at her.

    ¡°I guess that sounds nice,¡± said Jeremiah. He wished he could think of something wise or insightful to contribute.

    ¡°It will be, in time. Unfortunately my garden seems to have attracted an invasive pest. One that I hope will be eradicated with the introduction of a predator,¡± said the Empress.

    ¡°That would be us. Empress, can you tell me anything else about this cult? Even if you¡¯re not sure it¡¯s true?¡± said Jeremiah. The conviction that she and Ka had been hiding something niggled at him.

    Aubrianna sighed a spring breeze. ¡°No, not about the cult. We know precious little. But¡­I fear its reach is vaster than we realize.¡± She reached down and scooped up a handful of soil, letting it discolor her pristine hands. Just beneath the surface of earth was a web of yellowish thin roots. The web entangled the thicker roots of surrounding plants. ¡°Something is wrong in my garden. That¡¯s all I am truly able to say. The scent has changed, so slowly that I had overlooked it, but now I am certain.¡±

    The metaphors were becoming annoying. ¡°So you¡¯re saying this cult might be more established than you thought?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m saying that I believe the cult has power beyond the obvious, but I cannot say what.¡±

    ¡° What am I supposed to do with that? ¡±   wondered Jeremiah. He assumed her warning was only so difficult to understand because she was so much more cultured and intelligent than he was.

    They had returned to the entrance. ¡°Thank you for accompanying, Mr. Thorn.¡± The empress gave him a gentle smile and half-lidded eyes. By all the gods, her beauty was overwhelming. There was an urge to just lean in and see what happened. He decided to choke instead.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± he managed. The door opened, revealing Ka standing in wait. He bowed deeply, at least confident in how to be courteous, and took his leave from the strange encounter.

 Chapter 15. Undercover

    Chapter 15. Undercover

    The private meeting with Empress Aubrianna did little to alleviate Jeremiah¡¯s misgivings about the black op, but it was as Delilah had said¡ªthey were never going to get another chance like this. Allison clearly shared his concerns. She settled into a permanent bad mood as they established their new home base in Elminia.

    The apartment was barren and filthy. There were two spare rooms off the main living space, more like large closets, and a fireplace that looked like a hole that had been knocked in the side of the chimney and never repaired. Dust was the primary occupant, although it shared space with its extended family dirt and grime. It took the harshest soap they could find and several hours of labor to evict the worst of the tenants. They spent another few coins on cheap furniture, already one bad day from the kindling pile.

    Fortunately, the Giant¡¯s Bag meant they were very well equipped. Jeremiah laid out his enchanting gear in the room he shared with Bruno¡ªplates, tools, long spools of gossamer thin gold, silver, and copper, and a pile of Thurok¡¯s borrowed books that Jeremiah was wary would eventually come to life to kill him.

    ¡°I¡¯m certain this is just as unsafe as it is ineffective,¡± said Delilah. She had wedged a pot of stew deep into the chimney hole. The heat rising from cooking fires in the apartments below was just enough to provide a suggestion of warmth, but the smoke was choking.

    Bruno swept into the room and stabbed a hunk of mysterious meat from the stew. He bit into it like an apple and spoke as he chewed. ¡°Alright, here''s the plan for the next little bit. Al, I¡¯m going to need you to try to relax, maybe go sharpen things. Jay, you¡¯re gonna keep practicing enchanting so I can have magic shoes that let me walk up walls. Delilah, I''ll need you to read books or something. Your most important books." Delilah gave Bruno a sharp nod.

    Allison stared at him coldly. "And what will you be doing?"

    "Literally everything else," said Bruno, tearing off another bite. ¡°This is a mission to infiltrate the city''s underworld, find its secrets, and expose its leadership. I¡¯ll have us out of here in a few weeks.¡±

    Delilah squeezed her eyes shut against the smoke . ¡°What makes you think it¡¯ll be so easy? The empress¡¯s best people have already tried.¡±

    ¡°Ah, but the empress didn¡¯t have  me . Until now, anyway.¡± Bruno grinned his cockiest grin. ¡°I''ve done this before. Multiple times. It''s kind of anticlimactic, to be honest.¡± He started idly spinning his knife between his fingers.

    Allison glared as the flashing blade of Brunos¡¯ knife. ¡°This isn¡¯t a game. These kinds of missions can get brutal. Ugly.¡±

    Bruno''s spinning knife stopped. ¡°Oh, are you sure? You''re telling me this  black operation  might be unseemly? That there might even be skullduggery or nere-do-welling?¡±

    Allison ignored the sarcasm. ¡°I''m serious. These missions change people.¡±

    "Al, is there something you want to talk about?¡± asked Delilah. She put a hand on Allison¡¯s shoulder, but it was like reassuring a statue.

    "No. It''s fine," said Allison.

    "See, you say that, but I''m not sure I believe you," said Jeremiah.

    "I said, it''s fine!" Allison slammed her fist on the table. A long silence followed.

    "Well, clearly it''s not fine,¡± said Bruno. ¡°But places to be, and all that. I expect you all to stick to your assignments. With some luck, I¡¯ll be back before you have time to miss me.¡± He dipped his fingers into the stew pot, scooping up some of the floating fat, and ran it through his black hair.

    Delilah grimaced. ¡°Oh, what¡ªwhy did you do that?"

    "Gan underco, sveeha," said Bruno, his voice adopting an accent Jeremiah couldn¡¯t place. "Needa deepa, needa natura, pe gran prof."

    "You sound like someone that speaks Gnomish with a dwarven accent, trying to stumble their way through Common," said Delilah.

    Bruno snapped his fingers and pointed at her. ¡°Yas.¡± He stepped across the room, leaning heavily on the chair to support his newly acquired trick knee. ¡°Su see may? No see may. Yas?¡±

    They nodded at the stranger that had evolved from their friend. one that had suffered a stroke some time ago, leaving a drooping eye and lip. The stranger strode to the door, all but barely hiding the stiffness in one leg.

    ¡°Good luck, stay safe,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Lucka fer gennas,¡± said the stranger. Then he spit on the floor and left, slamming the door behind him.

    Allison¡¯s attitude did not improve in the days following Bruno¡¯s departure. If anything her mood worsened, permeating their living quarters with an air of sullen misery and rebuffing any attempts to talk. Jeremiah was more than happy to close himself in his room to work on his rune. After the carriage ride, working on solid ground was a breeze.

    In addition to his overly-complex Strengthen plate, he had created a separate plate for each of the runes he knew that had an effect on their own, Decay, Heat, and Adhere. Unfortunately, the same strategy he¡¯d used to delay the Strengthen diagram had not proven very useful for testing his unknown rune. Decay still caused the plate itself to rust away within minutes, Heat made the temperature of the plate increase until the metal surface warped and destroyed the rune, while Adhere made the plate stick instantly to the floor, his hands, and anything else it touched until he managed to break the enchantment.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    He also created a plate containing the new rune on its own. Charging it directly hadn¡¯t seemed to change the properties of the plate in any way Jeremiah could detect, so he created a simple diagram to connect the new rune to the Strengthen plate. When he charged it in this configuration, he was disappointed to observe no difference in the Strengthen plate either¡ªit still seemed Strengthened.

    Gus watched Jeremiah wrack his brain from a comfortable water bowl. ¡°What do you think?¡± Jeremiah asked his familiar. ¡°Whatever it¡¯s doing, it should be doing it now. Unless it doesn¡¯t work on metal plates. Or on Strengthen. Or needs two runes to work, like And. Or doesn¡¯t work because the plate is already Strengthened, and I need to start from scratch.¡±

    That final possibility filled him with the most dread, so Jeremiah decided that was the one he¡¯d start with. ¡° Thurok would be proud ,¡± thought Jeremiah. It was wrong, but still fun to think sometimes.

    To his relief, the new plate took only a couple hours to complete. His hands were becoming familiar with the geometric intricacies of the Strengthen rune, and he found himself needing to reference the diagram only intermittently. He scratched the final notch in a single stroke, and was pleasantly surprised when the gold rod nestled snugly inside.

    ¡°Let¡¯s give it a shot, buddy,¡± Jeremiah said, stretching out his wrists. He connected the new plate to the mystery rune, took a moment to gather his focus, and charged the diagram.

    The runes glowed softly for just a moment. Jeremiah snatched the new Strengthen plate and inspected it closely.

    ¡°Still nothing. Whats this damn thing do?¡±

    Jeremiah rubbed frustration and tightness from his jaw and tossed the plate onto a pile of other discards with a ringing clang.

    Jeremiah stopped. Something sounded off. He picked up the plates; the old Strengthen, and the new Strengthen. He had handled hundreds of plates at this point, and his hands told him these weren''t exactly equal.

    He studied them side by side.  Both were stronger than a normal plate, yes, but¡­.With suddenly shaking hands, Jeremiah drew a rasp across the surface of each plate.

    There was no doubt about it now. The new Strengthen plate was less resistant to the rasp than the old one. He tested over and over, and the rasp consistently bit deeper into the new plate than the old one.

    The idea formed in his mind then, but Jeremiah forced himself to keep testing. Over the next two days, he recreated plates for Decay, Heat, and Adhere. In each case, charging them through the unknown rune lessened the effects of the main rune. Decay took hours to rust through, Heat was safe to touch for several minutes, and Adhere became only mildly inconvenient.

    It was a strange feeling. This moment could prove to be his greatest contribution to the field of magic. It could be a discovery that changed the course of history. It could see him immortalized in the annals of magical history¡­but he didn''t actually know what to  do  with it.

    A knock at the door made him jump. ¡°Dinner,¡± said Allison. Then she took in the chaos of components, tools, and metal squares strewn across the floor like a game of fifty-two pickup. She cocked an eyebrow.

    Jeremiah leapt to his feet, countering her gloominess with uncommon buoyancy. ¡°Great! I¡¯ve got news.¡±

    He waited until Delilah joined them at the table, though he was practically brimming over with excitement. The moment she sat, he produced the plate with the new rune with a flourish. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got it figured out!¡±

    Delilah immediately matched his energy. ¡°And?!¡± Even Allison looked more interested than she had in days.

    ¡°I think it essentially says,  ¡®Gently¡¯,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Whatever rune I attach it to, it modifies the effect to be less strong. The effect still happens, just slower or not as much.¡±

    ¡°Wow, an adverb!¡± said Delilah. ¡°That sounds really useful!¡±

    Jeremiah beamed. ¡°Indeed, it is. Though any new word is valuable.¡±

    ¡°Valuable how?¡± asked Allison. ¡°How do we turn it into gold?¡±

    ¡°Um. I¡¯m not sure, actually,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°The only people I know who might want to buy it are Thurok or Flusoh, and it doesn¡¯t feel right to make them pay. Other than that, I''m not really sure how you monetize a new rune.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s your discovery, Jay. When alchemists discover something new they have to decide if they''re going to share it, or keep it as an exclusive. But once it''s out there it''s out of your hands.¡±

    ¡°I know, I know,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°But this feels different to me. I want them to have it, you know? They taught me so much.¡±

    Delilah reached across the table and patted him on the arm. ¡°You¡¯re a really good guy, you know that?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, good and poor,¡± said Allison. ¡°First useful thing your enchanting turns out, and you¡¯re giving it away.¡±

    ¡°Any money is going right out the door anyways,¡± grumbled Delilah.

    ¡°There will be more, I promise,¡± said Jeremiah. Still, her words stung, not least because she was right. ¡° At least when I was a necromancer, I was worth keeping around. ¡± He pushed the thought away, but the frustration persisted.

    Being on the streets of Elminia was always awful, with the unfriendly crowds and the sense of malevolence that seemed to emanate from the city itself. Tonight Jeremiah felt even more on edge than usual due to the two parcels tucked under his arm. Each contained a metal plate bearing the rune Gently and a letter explaining how to use it. Even if he didn¡¯t know how to sell it, he was aware that he had never held anything as valuable in his life.

    He pushed through the crowds towards a jagged tooth of a building where a few youths gathered outside, wearing identical loose-fitting uniforms. As he approached, they reluctantly paused their bawdy story. The smallest among them was shoved forward to address Jeremiah.

    ¡°What do you want?¡± the young man asked.

    ¡°I need something delivered,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Uh-huh, that¡¯s why you¡¯ve come to the Courier¡¯s Lodge,¡± said the young man, rolling his eyes.

    Jeremiah flashed a gold coin. All at once, the young man adopted an expression of polite attention. ¡°Listen closely,¡± Jeremiah said, injecting as much authority as he could while whispering. ¡°Far from here, there¡¯s a place called Throatlock Swamp¡­¡±

 Chapter 16. Wasted Potential

    Chapter 16. Wasted Potential

    Jeremiah put the finishing touches on his latest enchantment diagram. It was a touch inelegant, but it was a fine proof of concept for now. He scooped up Gus. ¡°Now comes the hard part, buddy.¡±

    He inspected the plate again, flattened out his shirt, and made the two step journey from his bedroom to the adjacent one. He gave the door two quick knocks and tucked the plate behind his back, trying to quell panic creeping up on him.

    Delilah cracked the door just enough to see him. ¡°Hey, Jay. What¡¯s up?¡±

    ¡°Hi Delilah, I¡­umm.¡± What had he meant to say? ¡°I guess, I sort of¡­have a present for you?¡±

    Delilah¡¯s polite expression turned to one of concern. ¡°A gift? For me?¡± She retreated even further behind the door, so only half her face was visible.

    Jeremiah realized he was making a mistake. This was weird. He was clearly making her uncomfortable. And worse still¡­¡°Okay, well, it¡¯s not exactly perfect yet, but I wanted to let you know I was working on it and maybe get an idea of if it¡¯s something you¡¯d actually want so I don¡¯t keep working on it if you don¡¯t think it¡¯d be useful.¡±

    In what Jeremiah could only describe as an act of intentional cruelty, Delilah just stared at him. He revealed the plate from behind his back.¡°This is an enchantment plate.¡±

    More silence. Gods, why did he sound so stupid?

    ¡°Um, I mean, this is an enchantment plate that makes heat. I thought maybe it¡¯d be useful in your lab work. Or for cooking. Or whatever else.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s very thoughtful Jay. Thank you.¡± Delilah tried to take the plate from Jeremiah, but he didn¡¯t let go.

    ¡°I actually can¡¯t actually give it to you yet. It still overheats and breaks the enchantment. I¡¯ve got to figure out how to make it only heat up to a certain point, I just wanted to show you what I¡¯ve got so far.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Well, it looks very nice,¡± said Delilah. She offered him a pleasant smile.

    ¡°Once I fix it, it¡¯ll always output that amount,¡± said Jeremiah. He was starting to ramble, but he couldn¡¯t help it. ¡°It¡¯ll just stay hot and you can use it to boil water and stuff without making a fire.¡±

    ¡°Huh,¡± said Delilah. ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°I¡ªthat¡¯s it,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°How long does it last? Like, a day? A week?¡±

    ¡°Ha! No, no, no, much longer.¡± He forgot sometimes his friends didn¡¯t know even the basics of enchanting. Delilah was still gripping the plate. He tried to tug it back from her, but she held fast.

    ¡°How much longer?¡± Suddenly Delilah¡¯s focus and all its probing intensity shifted onto Jeremiah. She didn¡¯t look pleased or polite anymore. She looked angry.

    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know for sure?¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°I¡¯ll need to figure that out. A good few years at least. It¡¯s a pretty simple enchantment.¡±

    Delilah glared at him long enough to make him profoundly uncomfortable. ¡°Years. You estimate this would stay hot enough to boil water for years.¡±

    ¡°Sure, maybe a decade. But probably close to twenty years if I tune it right.¡±

    Delilah closed her eyes. ¡°You stupid, stupid boy.¡±

    Of all the reactions Jeremiah had imagined to his gift, this one hadn¡¯t featured. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    Delilah¡¯s eyes snapped open. ¡°I am so mad at you right now for just  handing  me this.¡±

    It was Jeremiah¡¯s turn to stare at her in stunned silence.

    ¡°Come on, Jay, think for a minute! Heat! Heat without fuel! For decades! You¡¯re supposed to be smarter than this!¡±

    ¡°Yes, I know it¡¯d be useful, that¡¯s why I¡¯m trying to make you one.¡±

    ¡°Make me  one ? You should be trying to make hundreds. Thousands! One for every household in the world!¡±

    At that, Jeremiah had to laugh. ¡°That¡¯s impossible. Enchanting is a very labor intensive process, and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do you even know what the labor is? This is lines cut into a flat metal plate! The industrial applications  alone w ould¡ª¡±

    Suddenly Delilah¡¯s face broke into a saccharine smile. ¡°Oh Jay, this is such a thoughtful gift. Thank you!¡±

    She pulled him into an iron-gripped hug. ¡°Now, you listen to me,¡± she growled in his ear, a not entirely unpleasant sensation, ¡°You¡¯re going to continue working on this. You¡¯re not going to talk about it. With  anyone .   Do you understand? Not Thurok, not Flusoh, not Allison, not me, not anyone.  Do you understand ?¡±

    Jeremiah nodded, confused and terrified.

    ¡°When you get this working, you are going to knock on my door. It doesn¡¯t matter where we are or what time it is. If I¡¯m not home, you¡¯re to sit quietly in your room until I return. You will tell me, ¡®It¡¯s lovely weather for a stroll¡¯, and then we will go for a walk to the patent office. Do you understand?¡±

    Jeremiah nodded again. Pinned in a prolonged hug with Delilah was not the worst place to be.

    ¡°Good," she hissed, then returned to a normal speaking voice. "Thanks again, that was very sweet of you! Too bad it doesn''t work. I have to get back to work though, I''m trying to get certified as a defense counselor. Bye, Jay!"

    She shoved the plate back towards Jeremiah and slammed the door. Gus was holding very still in his pocket. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, buddy,¡± Jeremiah said. ¡°I think it¡¯s okay we don¡¯t know what just happened.¡±

    Three weeks after Bruno¡¯s departure, Allison was still in a foul mood, stomping around and snapping at innocuous questions. Jeremiah and Delilah hid in their respective bedrooms to keep as much distance between them and Allison as possible, but her anxiety seemed to bleed through the walls, made worse by her insistence that she was fine.

    Jeremiah appreciated the chance to focus on his enchanting, but the expectation to hide indoors for an indefinite amount of time brought him right back to being under house arrest after his trial. It didn¡¯t help that being outside in Elminia was dreadful in its own way. Having grown up in a tiny village surrounded by pastoral countryside, the city always held a sense of wonder for Jeremiah, but Elminia was like a churning, angry cauldron. He had been cursed at, spit on, and even bitten enough times that any wonder had long since transformed into disgust.

    The nearest market street comprised a cluster of food in piles or bags that occupied the center of the street and were guarded jealously by their purveyors. On one particularly dismal morning, Jeremiah selected the least damaged loaf of bread for their day¡¯s ration, paid a surly dwarf an outrageous price, and let himself be swept up in the press of bodies trudging towards home.

    Jeremiah found the swirling current of heat, noise, and smells more tolerable if he turned off his brain and allowed momentum to determine his path. His mind wandered as bodies surged and jostled around him, always pushing him onwards.

    Until his progress halted. Something poked against his abdomen. Jeremiah¡¯s eyes snapped up to see the tip of a knife pressed against his alchemically-reinforced robes. It¡¯s wielder was a human man standing stock still directly in front of Jeremiah, sweating profusely, with eyes half-lidded in an expression of bliss.

    The man hissed with excitement as Jeremiah was bumped from behind, pushing him harder against the knife. Jeremiah tried to step aside, but there was nowhere to go. Someone cursed at him and shoved him hard, and the knife tip sliced through his robes and into his skin.

    Jeremiah planted his feet and spun with force, slamming into several people who made their objections known immediately. The knife slipped off him as he was swept up once again by the stream. The man with the knife disappeared behind him.

    "I hate this place," he said. Gus kicked once in agreement.

    Jeremiah forced his way from the stream to enter their apartment building. As always, he took a moment to enjoy the relief of escaping the dull roar of the crowd. He made his way upstairs, and, juggling the bread and other sundries, fumbled at the entrance to their apartment.

    The door burst open and a dark shape seized Jeremiah. In an instant, he was slammed against a wall, knocking the wind out of him and scattering the groceries across the floor.

    A grotesque and ragged face, eyes bulging with fury, pinned Jeremiah across the chest with a forearm. The face leaned close, its breath reeking of alcohol and neglect. ¡°Who did you  fucking  tell!¡±This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Jeremiah shoved at the arm but it held fast. Where were Allison and Delilah? He wrenched his knee upwards and connected with something soft. The face recoiled in pain, and Jeremiah shoved off the wall. He threw a hard elbow towards the face, twisting his body and pushing through from his feet, just like Allison had taught him.

    The face shouted, but recovered before Jeremiah could scramble away. In a flurry of limbs, Jeremiah was thrown face down on the floor, his arm pinned behind him. He began to speak the words that would let him exhale poisonous gas, but a greasy hand clamped over his mouth.

    A crash of breaking glass. Jeremiah twisted and spotted Allison in the doorway, the jagged edge of a freshly broken glass bottle in her hand.

    ¡°Hey there, dead man,¡± she said. Her anger was cold and soft as fresh snow.

    The weight vanished from Jeremiah¡¯s back. ¡°Wait, wait, wait!¡± said Bruno¡¯s voice.

    Allison paused, the broken bottle raised to rake his face. ¡°Bruno?¡±

    Jeremiah stood, rolling his shoulder. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re glad to see you, Bruno,¡± said Delilah. She was standing in the doorway Allison had just vacated, a glass bottle in her hand as well, though hers was intact and filled with an amber liquid.

    ¡°Not thrilled actually,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Oh, quit whining, you milk sipping weakling!¡± Bruno yelled.

    Jeremiah¡¯s simmering anger burst through. ¡°Go back outside if you want to throw a temper tantrum!¡±

    ¡°You little¡­¡± Bruno lunged toward Jeremiah. Jeremiah raised his fists, more than willing to get his ass kicked if it meant he could belt Bruno again.

    He didn¡¯t get the chance. As Bruno closed the distance, Allison¡¯s hand snapped out like a viper and struck him in the throat. Bruno crumpled, clutching his windpipe as he gagged, tongue protruding.

    Allison shot Jeremiah an icy glare.  Your turn?  Jeremiah held his hands up and stepped backwards. His fury towards Bruno was not worth drawing Allison¡¯s ire.

    Bruno¡¯s face was darkening to a deep crimson as he gasped for breath. Jeremiah¡¯s rage ebbed to concern that his friend was dying, but no one else seemed worried.

    After a time, Allison squatted beside Bruno. ¡°You okay?¡± she asked. Bruno nodded. ¡°You don¡¯t ever raise a hand against anyone on this team. You know that,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°S-still in c-character,¡± wheezed Bruno, ¡°tough to¡­to¡­to slip, s-sometimes.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± said Alison. She took Bruno by the arm and helped him to his feet. Bruno leaned on her as she ran a comforting hand over his back.

    Bruno turned towards Jeremiah. The anger and hate that had been there moments ago were gone. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°S¡¯alright,¡± said Jeremiah.

    While Bruno recovered, Jeremiah, Delilah, and Allison gathered up the groceries and set out a breakfast of milk and bread. They gathered around the table, dunking their bread before eating it. For a moment, aside from Bruno¡¯s filthiness and the lump swelling over his left eye, things were as they had always been.

    ¡°That hurt as much as it looked like it did?¡± Jeremiah asked, pointing at Bruno¡¯s throat.

    ¡°Not as much as that knee and elbow combination you gave me.¡± He gingerly touched the bruise rising on his brow. ¡°Allison, you should be proud of your boy, he got me good,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°I¡¯m always proud of him,¡± said Allison.

    Jeremiah paid extra close attention to his bread.

    ¡°So, what happened?¡± asked Delilah.

    Bruno sighed heavily over his meal. ¡°I got made.¡± His voice cracked and for a wild moment, Jeremiah thought he might cry. The anguish on his face extinguished the last ember of anger in Jeremiah¡¯s chest.

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°It means I¡¯m a known element. They saw me coming, all of them did. Doesn¡¯t much matter the disguise, if they¡¯re looking for you. Some of them even¡­¡± he swirled his cup, watching a crumb of bread slowly sink beneath the surface. ¡°Some of them mocked me.¡±

    Delilah tried to hide a smile. ¡°They mocked you?¡±

    Bruno slammed his cup down on the table. ¡°You don¡¯t understand! I¡¯m the Shadow of Dock Road Two. I¡¯m both cloak and dagger. I do not make mistakes, I do not get caught, and I do  not  get made fun of. Especially not by some no-talent pickpocket squad of roustabouts.¡±

    ¡°Everyone makes mistakes,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Not me. The people who make mistakes in my line or work get buried with them. Besides, this isn¡¯t just from a moment of carelessness. Everyone knows to be on the lookout for me, even in disguise.¡± Bruno leaned forward, regarding each of them in turn. ¡°Which is why I need to know¡ªdid one of you talk about what we¡¯re doing? Or that you knew me? Even in passing?¡±

    ¡°None of us has spoken with anyone since you¡¯ve left,¡± said Allison. ¡°We barely left the apartment.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± He absently switched Delilah¡¯s cup with his own, a behavior Jeremiah had come to think of as a nervous habit. ¡°It¡¯s the only explanation I can think of.¡±

    ¡°How do we know this isn¡¯t because of the Empress?¡± asked Jeremiah. ¡°Or her spymaster?¡±

    ¡°Technically it¡¯s possible, but I¡¯m not sure why they¡¯d do it,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean they didn¡¯t. It¡¯s actually an even better reason why they would.¡± Being Bruno sounded tiring. ¡°But I should tell you, something¡¯s going on in this city. Whatever is happening here, it¡¯s happening soon.¡±

    ¡°How do you know?¡± asked Delilah.

    Bruno gestured all around them. ¡°You can feel it. The pulse of the city is quickening. There¡¯s fear and desperation in the air. Everyone knows something¡¯s coming, even if they don¡¯t know they know it.¡±

    There was silence around the table again. No one seemed to know what to say to that proclamation.

    Finally, Jeremiah asked, ¡°So what now? Ditch the black op? Wait a while and try again?¡±

    ¡°Back to Dramir, back to square one,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°No,¡± said Bruno. ¡°This is still our best bet. I might need to stage my own death, or look for a fall guy, or-¡±

    ¡°I can do it,¡± said Allison and Jeremiah at the same time.

    Bruno barked a laugh. ¡°No offense, Al, but you couldn¡¯t stop being a soldier if your life depended on it. You walk like a soldier, talk like a soldier. You even sit like a soldier.¡± Allison shifted in her seat, then gradually returned to her rigid posture.

    ¡°What about me?¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Or me,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°You got a money voice, Delilah,¡± Bruno smiled as he spoke, like he was fond of it.

    "What''s a money voice?" asked Delilah.

    "Means you talk like a rich girl that¡¯s seen the inside of too many lecture halls. Then became a doctor. And a lawyer.¡±

    "So it''s me?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    Bruno stared at him. ¡°I don¡¯t remember going crazy, no.¡±

    ¡°Then what else?¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°You already said Allison and Delilah can¡¯t, and you obviously can¡¯t. That just leaves

    ¡°I appreciate the offer Jay, ¡°said Bruno with a good natured smile, ¡°I really do. But¡­you know.¡±

    Jeremiah set his jaw tight. ¡°Enlighten me.¡±

    Bruno smirked and started to speak. Then he stopped. He looked Jeremiah up and down. ¡°Hmm.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t allow it,¡± said Allison. ¡°He has neither the skillset nor the mindset for this. He¡¯d get shivved in an alley.¡±

    ¡°Al, he¡¯s not the same dough-faced boy we picked up in the woods,¡± said Bruno. ¡°He needs training, sure, but maybe I can work with him.¡±

    ¡°You think you can pass Jay off as, what, a thug?¡± asked Delilah.

    Bruno shook his head emphatically, ¡°No way. I can harden him up, but I can¡¯t take the heart out of him.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t allow it,¡± Allison said again.

    ¡°I can¡¯t help but notice none of you are talking to me,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Even though this is about me, and I¡¯m right here.¡±

    The table went quiet. Bruno and Delilah exchanged a glance. Allison only glared at Bruno.

    Jeremiah continued, ¡°Which, I¡¯m guessing, is because you don¡¯t think I can handle this kind of decision.¡±

    Delilah gave him an apologetic smile. ¡°Jay, it¡¯s not that. It¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s absolutely that!¡± Days, weeks, months of frustration were spilling forth. ¡°I¡¯m part of this team. I saved all your lives in that tomb, I wiped out a bandit camp for you! How long are you going to keep treating me like a child you need to protect?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not ready for this,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Course he¡¯s not,¡± said Bruno, ¡°but I can try to get him ready. Jay, do you want to do this?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Jeremiah reflexively. It was an act of pure defiance.

    ¡°It¡¯s irrelevant if he wants to!¡± said Allison. ¡°I. Will not. Allow it.¡±

    Bruno crossed his arms. ¡°No offense, Al, but you''re out of your element here. I''ve got the expertise, and I say he¡¯s worth a shot. We don¡¯t exactly have a ton of options here. If I can¡¯t get him ready, I won¡¯t send him out. I promise.¡±

    Jeremiah watched Allison wage war with herself. She scowled, opened her mouth to speak, closed it, stood and paced around the room running her hands through her hair, then whirled back towards them. ¡°Fine."

    "Any other objections?" Bruno asked.

    Jeremiah broke off another hunk of bread. ¡°Nope.¡±

    "I have reservations, I want that on the record,¡± said Delilah.

    Bruno nodded. "There is no record, but noted. I''m going to need help though, from both of you. Jay, you''re sure you want to do this? It''s not going to be pleasant."

    "I can handle it," said Jeremiah.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see." Bruno reached across the table and slid Jeremiah''s plate towards himself, the uneaten bread wobbling merrily.

    Jeremiah frowned. ¡°Hey, I''m hungry"

    "Get used to that feeling, boy.¡± Bruno¡¯s face broke into a humorless grin that chilled Jeremiah to the bone.

 Chapter 17. The Wall

    Chapter 17. The Wall

    Bruno took a day to develop a training plan. According to him, Jeremiah could pass for a second-story man, ¡°with a little work.¡±

    ¡°First I need to assess your skills,¡± said Bruno. He had cleared all of the furniture from their living room. ¡°Climb up the wall here and traverse around the room.¡± He patted the smooth plaster.

    Jeremiah looked at the flat gray wall. He looked at the other three flat gray walls. ¡°Just¡­hop up? And climb around the room?¡± asked Jeremiah. He had to be misunderstanding something.

    ¡°Well, try anyways,¡± said Bruno. ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to make it the whole way around, the part near the door is going to be tricky, but let¡¯s see how far you can get.¡± He patted the wall again. ¡°Up, up!¡±

    Jeremiah placed his hands against the wall. The plaster was cold and unyielding. He tried to dig his fingers in but there was nothing there save for the bumps. He placed one foot against the wall. Still no miracle appeared.

    ¡°Ambitious choice, but I approve,¡± said Bruno. Jeremiah had no idea what he was talking about.

    Lacking any other guidance, Jeremiah hopped and threw himself flat against the wall. He slapped his cheek against the plaster and dropped unceremoniously back to the ground.

    Bruno chuckled. ¡°Yeah that was inevitable. Don¡¯t try to impress me now, keep it simple. Go ahead, try again.¡±

    Jeremiah moved over a step and bounced uselessly off the wall again.

    Bruno¡¯s amusement became tinged with annoyance. ¡°Why don¡¯t you try starting here?¡± He pointed to a spot on the middle of the wall that was indistinguishable from the rest.

    Jeremiah braced his foot at the spot Bruno had pointed, jumped, and again splatted against the wall. Bruno just stared.

    ¡°I am  so  excited to learn the answer to this riddle,¡± said Jeremiah sarcastically. ¡°Is the real climb metaphorical? Do I ¡®climb¡¯ into a sense of¡ª¡±

    ¡°I get it, you¡¯re incompetent,¡± said Bruno, all traces of amusement gone. ¡°You seriously can¡¯t climb this?¡±

    ¡°Climb this flat vertical wall? No, I¡¯m not a bug,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Bruno nodded, and gently pushed Jeremiah aside. He did exactly the same thing Jeremiah did, placing his hands and feet against the wall, but when he hopped up, he stayed aloft.

    ¡°No. How are you doing that?¡± asked Jeremiah. Bruno was just floating in the air.

    ¡°Take a closer look," said Bruno.

    Jeremiah crouched to inspect. He could see, once he got close enough, that Bruno¡¯s feet were braced between two minuscule bumps in the wall. Bruno''s fingertips gripped the tiniest crumbs of plaster.

    "That''s insane.¡± Even seeing it, Jeremiah couldn¡¯t believe it.

    "That''s second story work,¡± said Bruno, "climb the unclimbable. Where a normal person sees a wall, you see a ladder. Where people see a window, you see a door. You grant your people access to a whole new dimension."

    ¡°Why would you even ask for gloves that stick to walls when you can do this? I actually started looking into how to do it,¡± said Jeremiah. It was theoretically simple¡ªIf Contact, Adhere. He¡¯d found instructions in one of his books about designing diagrams that would only activate when a certain rune came into contact with something. If he could weave that into a glove, all he¡¯d have to do was slap his hand against a wall and it would stick.

    ¡°Jay, focus. Climbing, glass cutting, lock picking, burgling¡ªall of these are complex skills you need at least the basics of just to pass as a second story man. And that''s the easy part. The hard part is, I need you to pass as one of us."

    ¡°One of us?"

    ¡°The survivors.¡± Bruno dropped off the wall and advanced on Jeremiah. ¡°The forgotten. Street folk. Urchins. Someone that knows the struggle.¡± He jabbed Jeremiah in the chest. ¡°I¡¯m going to teach you what matters.¡±

    "What is it that matters?" asked Jeremiah.

    "Desperation," said Bruno. The intensity of his glare was making Jeremiah uncomfortable.

    Delilah entered, and Jeremiah was grateful for the distraction until he noticed what she was holding. ¡°Hey guys!¡± She showed them a sickly yellow strip, mottled in black spots. It looked like a bad moldy cheese. ¡°This should take care of his teeth. Won¡¯t last forever, but he can do a reapplication if needed.¡±

    ¡°What is that?¡± asked Jeremiah with dread. The very sight of it made him nauseated.

    ¡°You took very good care of your teeth when you were younger, and I thank you for that. You have no idea how many infections I see spread from gums to hearts. But Bruno thinks a more lackadaisical attitude would have served you better here.¡±

    Jeremiah unconsciously ran his tongue over his teeth. Whenever he¡¯d complained about brushing as a child, his mother would lean in and smile, revealing the blackened crumbled mess inside her mouth, more like charcoal fragments than human bones. The sight had always terrified Jeremiah into obedience.

    ¡°Open,¡± said Delilah.

    Jeremiah opened his mouth. Delilah lay one strip across his upper teeth, and one across his lower teeth. She closed his mouth for a few moments, then removed the strips and inspected her work.

    "Gross. Good work," said Bruno.

    "I agree," said Delilah. ¡°I thought the color depth was too far, but I¡¯m glad I went with it."

    She held up a mirror for Jeremiah, and he nearly gagged at what he saw. His teeth had been stained a multitude of yellow and orange hues, with deep pits of black settling into some of the spaces between and in the pits of the molars. "This is temporary, yeah?" he asked.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    "Should be," said Delilah.

    Bruno sighed. "I still think-"

    "I am not removing any of his teeth!" said Delilah.

    Bruno¡¯s methods of instruction turned out to be demanding one impossible task after the other. Bruno would place a tiny bell in Allison¡¯s pocket without her noticing, and it was Jeremiah¡¯s job to swipe it. But Allison¡¯s situational awareness was flawless to anyone that wasn¡¯t Bruno. Jeremiah practiced lock picking on a training lock that stabbed his fingers with a lightning-fast needle every time he messed up, which was often, and made picking the lock even harder. And he came up empty when Bruno interrogated him on the minute details of a scene after being allowed to study it for less than a second.

    Every day he asked Jeremiah to attempt to climb the wall, and every day Jeremiah failed. He had never known a vitriolic hatred toward a wall before, but this was the worst wall there had ever been.

    But worse than anything was the hunger. It gnawed at him day and night, keeping him at the edge of rage. As the weeks passed, Bruno would allow him scraps here and there while the others ate normal meals at the same dinner table. ¡°We need to get rid of the baby fat on those cheeks,¡± Bruno had said. Jeremiah often had nothing to occupy himself besides staring and salivating at the others¡¯ plates.

    He sensed the others¡¯ patience dwindling. His patience with himself was dwindling¡ªit had been weeks already. They could not stay here forever and wait for him to achieve competence. Outwardly, they were all as encouraging as ever, but Jeremiah wasn¡¯t fooled. His chance to prove himself, to really make a difference, was running out.

    A knock on the door well after dark made them all jump. Bruno peered through a crack at the visitor, then leapt to the table, draped himself onto the chair, and started shuffling cards as though he hadn¡¯t a care in the world. Allison rolled her eyes and opened the door to reveal Spymaster Ka, leaning against the wall in a mirror of Bruno¡¯s posture.

    ¡°Hey,¡± she said.

    ¡°Hey,¡± said Bruno. He started dealing solitaire with precise flicks of his wrist.

    ¡°Good evening, Spymaster Ka,¡± said Delilah. ¡°How can we help you?¡±

    Ka thrust a bundle of envelopes towards her. ¡°Did you have your mail forwarded to the palace?¡±

    ¡°I did, yes,¡± said Delilah. ¡°I have some critical correspondences to maintain.¡± Bruno abandoned his devil-may-care routine and sighed heavily.

    ¡°Right, we''re putting a stop to that,¡± said Ka. Her gaze lingered on Bruno a beat too long before she said, ¡°Goodnight,¡± and left.

    ¡°Were you supposed to deal her in?¡± asked Jeremiah. Any opportunity to rib Bruno was too good to pass up. ¡°She looked like she wanted to play.¡±

    ¡°She knows she¡¯s-wait, what? Deal her into solitaire?¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Oh,¡± said Delilah. It was a tiny squeak of a sound, almost a gasp.She held an open letter in her hand, the paper limp. Jeremiah thought he saw the tiniest quiver in her lip.

    ¡°Hon? What¡¯s going on?¡± Allison asked, crossing the room to see the letter.

    ¡°I, umm. I lost the house,¡± Delilah took a halting breath. ¡°We knew this was coming, but¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh, Delilah I¡¯m so sorry,¡± Allison gave Delilah a hug, but Delilah didn¡¯t return it.

    When Delilah spoke again, her expression was placid. ¡°That house was the last one my family owned. It was the house I grew up in. They¡¯ll come for the fortress next, and once I¡¯m no longer a land owner, I¡¯ll be stripped of my title. After that, I¡¯m sure my law and medical licenses are next. Then, assuming they aren¡¯t satisfied, I¡¯ll be placed in a debtors'' prison of some sort.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not going to let that happen,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°And there is no debtors prison that I can¡¯t get you out of,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Enough,¡± said Delilah. ¡°None of you know how this works, this isn¡¯t your world. If you¡¯ll excuse me.¡± She pulled away from her friends, gathered up the papers, and disappeared into her room, pulling the door closed with a soft  click  behind her.

    The soft whistle of Bruno¡¯s breathing had been steady for half an hour before Jeremiah made his move. He tucked Gus into the pocket of the threadbare tunic they had chosen, slung the satchel containing a set of lockpicks and a few enchanting tools over his shoulder, and crept out of the room.

    The apartment was bright enough from moonlight that he could cross it without worrying about bumping into anything, but he still nearly collided with Bruno blocking the door.

    ¡°What the¡ªhow did you¡­?¡± Jeremiah head swiveled back towards the bedroom where he¡¯d been sure Bruno had been fast asleep moments before.

    ¡°Go back to bed, Jay.¡± Bruno had his arms crossed casually as he leaned against the door.

    ¡°Let me through.¡± Jeremiah kept his voice low to keep from waking the others. ¡°This is happening.¡±

    ¡°The hell it is. You¡¯re not nearly ready. I made a promise to Allison¡ªdo you have any idea what she¡¯ll do to me if you get yourself killed out there?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care. Jeremiah squared his shoulders. ¡°We¡¯re out of time and I have to try.¡±

    Bruno chuckled and shook his head. ¡°I know you want to play at being a hero, Jay, but this isn¡¯t a game. You¡¯re not going, so just forget it.¡±

    Jeremiah¡¯s temper flared. ¡°The only one treating this like a game is you! You failed, so you don¡¯t believe anyone else can do it. But it isn¡¯t up to you anymore, it¡¯s up to me. So let. Me. Though.¡±

    Bruno¡¯s good humor disappeared. ¡°You don¡¯t have what it takes. You¡¯re never going to have it. You¡¯ll quit this when the going gets tough, just like you quit necromancy. Only this time, we won¡¯t be there to coddle you.¡±

    Jeremiah gaped at him. ¡°I quit necromancy because I was getting people killed!¡±

    ¡°You quit necromancy because you¡¯re a coward!¡± Bruno advanced on him. ¡°You had everything, and you threw it away. Do you know what happens to cowards on the streets? I do. And forgive me if I don¡¯t feel like peeling your corpse off some back alley street.¡±

    No one had ever spoken to Jeremiah that way about his quitting necromancy. His jaw worked as his retorts stumbled over themselves. Finally, he settled on the truth. ¡°Bruno, I have to do this. I can¡¯t let Delilah¡ªcan¡¯t let  all of you  lose everything because of what I did. I have to make it right, and this is the only way I can do that. So you can either help me, or get out of my way.¡±

    Bruno glared at him for a long time, and Jeremiah glared right back. The silence between them was the heaviest Jeremiah had ever heard, but he refused to back down.

    Finally, Bruno spoke. ¡°You¡¯ll be on your own out there. We¡¯re always here to support you, but on the ground it¡¯ll just be you.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Allison¡¯s right, these missions can get real messed up. You¡¯re going to have to do stuff you don¡¯t like, stuff that¡¯ll stick with you. There will be no going back.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± Had he really won?

    Bruno looked him square in the eye. ¡°You promise me, right here, right now, that you¡¯ll take care of yourself, first and foremost? That you¡¯ll come home if you need to? That I won¡¯t have to go out there and recover the body of some poor kid who got in over his head?¡±

    Jeremiah nodded once. ¡°I promise.¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s go.¡±

 Chapter 18. The Streets

    Chapter 18. The Streets

    Jeremiah was starving. He was sure he was actually starving. His stomach was twisted up in a knot, and the fatigue of being underfed while training kept his thoughts sluggish and his body aching. He now walked with Bruno in the hours where the sky took on the navy blue of upcoming sunrise. Or it would, if Elminia wasn¡¯t belching smoke at all times day or night.

    ¡°Remember the ground rules,¡± Bruno was saying. ¡°You¡¯re just Jay, like a million other Jays out there. You¡¯re a second-story man coming in from Shabad after a job went bad. Stay out of the Pit until you¡¯ve got a crew to protect you. And don¡¯t let anyone see you cast magic, it draws way too much attention.¡±

    ¡°I know all this, you¡¯ve told me a hundred times already.¡± Jeremiah flinched at a moving shadow cast by a tree in the wind. His nerves were getting the better of him.

    ¡°You know where to find us, but only come by as a last resort,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Or, you know, when you¡¯re finally ready to call it. Here we are.¡±

    With a twist of his body and kick of the wall, Bruno scaled a wrought-iron fence with spikes protruding from the top to prevent that very thing. Jeremiah leapt to follow, jumping to grab the top rail. He managed to wedge his feet against the wall and scramble over the fence without sustaining any serious injury.

    ¡°What is this place?¡± asked Jeremiah. It looked like a factory and reeked of fish and rancid oil. No one was around at this hour, but the workers¡¯ tools had been haphazardly discarded, all caked with congealed fat.¡±

    ¡°Otto¡¯s Picklery, and the stage of your grand entry into Elminia,¡± said Bruno. ¡°It was a money laundering front that became a legitimate business because Otto was too good at his job. This city burns a lot of oil, and there¡¯s good odds it¡¯s Otto¡¯s oil,¡± said Bruno. He patted one of the large, empty barrels lying and stopped to take a sniff. ¡°Damn, I love that smell.¡±

    An imperceptible noise caught Bruno¡¯s attention. He signaled Jeremiah, and they darted to a dark corner of the factory. Jeremiah lay still, keeping his breathing shallow. Finally, he heard the footsteps, and the glow of a lamp entered the courtyard. The light swung a few times, failed to illuminate their hiding spot, then departed.

    ¡°Ah, so Jimbo¡¯s working tonight,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Must be feeling better.¡± He led Jeremiah to a mountain of barrels, reeking and propped up on one another like a pile of drunks. He selected the most putrid one, and rolled it to the front. ¡°In you get!¡±

    Jeremiah stepped into the barrel, cringing as the white cakey substance squished beneath his shoes. He gingerly lowered himself, arms tucked, trying to not touch the sides any more than was necessary.

    ¡°Ready?¡± asked Bruno, poised to place the lid on the barrel.

    ¡°What¡¯s going to happen after I¡¯m discovered?¡± Jeremiah asked.

    ¡°Likely you¡¯ll come to your senses and return home,¡± said Bruno. ¡°We¡¯ll have a nice breakfast waiting.¡±

    ¡°Just put the damn lid on,¡± said Jeremiah. Nothing could make that happen. Jeremiah would not give that little smirk of Bruno¡¯s the satisfaction.

    Bruno forced the lid down on the barrel, pounding it into place. Then the barrel suddenly tilted and Jeremiah fell against its oily wall. It rolled, and Jeremiah rolled with it until not one single part of him was free of the stinking oily residue.

    The barrel righted itself. Jeremiah was stuck head down, neck contorting awkwardly, as chunks of rancid white fat rained onto his face.

    ¡°See ya, Jay,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Try not to die.¡±

    Jeremiah grew to despise the workers of Otto¡¯s Picklery. They were lazy and slow, wasting valuable working time with idle gossip. Effie in particular needed a talking to, as every time they were about to start working, she had just one more dirty story to rile up and distract her coworkers. It wasn¡¯t until Dodric came along, gods bless him, to whip them into action that they actually started moving barrels.

    The top of Jeremiah¡¯s barrel exploded with light. ¡±Ooh, a fish!¡± said a scratchy voice.

    Jeremiah squinted as the backlit shape formed the face of a goblin, its long pointed ears twisting as it screeched with delight. ¡°Man-fish, man-fish! It¡¯s been a while.¡±

    Jeremiah started to brace himself to sit up, but the lid slammed back down.

    ¡°Man-fish! Man-fish! Man-fish!¡± All of the workers were chanting now.

    "Roast him or free him?"

    "We did a fish fry on the last one, let''s free this one!"

    They cheered.

    Given the two options, Jeremiah was relieved. Then the barrel started rolling. Over and over he tumbled in darkness, the voices outside chanting and cheering.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    The barrel tipped, the cover came away, and Jeremiah clung to its inside surface as a view of the canal greeted him below. The fish-slick wood offered no purchase, and soon he tumbled into the oily, foamy water.

    The shock of the cold water stunned his cramped muscles. He reached for daylight above him, but his legs had forgotten how to work. There were shapes in the water around him, some small, and some as large as he was. The canal, he realized as he sank, was deep, far deeper than he¡¯d thought.

    ¡° Don¡¯t panic ,¡± thought Jeremiah, ¡° don¡¯t panic! ¡±

    He kicked his feet hard, and achingly slowly began to rise back towards the sunlight. His head broke through the surface and he filled his lungs with blessed air.

    ¡°Aw, he can swim,¡± said one of the workers. The crowd lamented Jeremiah¡¯s survival, and dispersed back to work.

    Jeremiah hauled himself out of the canal and sprawled on the bank to catch his breath. ¡°Well, buddy, that wasn¡¯t a great start. But we¡¯re okay. Let¡¯s get to work, huh?¡± Gus wriggled in his pocket, happy to be wet.

    Jeremiah stepped out into the streets of Elminia, a new and unknown man. Elminia took no notice.

    His first order of business was food. Now that there was no Bruno preventing him from eating, he was free to get a real meal. Once he had something in his belly, he reasoned, he¡¯d be able to think straight and figure out a plan to start learning about the cult. Needing food meant needing money, and needing money meant needing work.

    The first place Jeremiah checked work was a squat, dingy inn called The Palm Frond. Jeremiah was greeted by the proprietor not two steps inside the door. "Absolutely not, get out!" shouted a gnomish woman, laden with plates of steaming food.

    "Apologies ma''am, I''m just looking for¡ª"

    "What you''re looking for isn''t here!¡± the woman said. ¡°No jobs, no food, no beds, no nothing. Move along!¡± The men at the table she was serving eyed Jeremiah threateningly.

    Jeremiah and retreated back outside. "No problem, the day¡¯s just beginning. Onto the next one.¡±

    The middle and end of Jeremiah''s first day as a new man in Elminia followed a similar pattern. He was shooed, shouted, and shunned from every establishment he entered with varying levels of force. As the sun set, he dodged out of the crowds and into a side alley, where he perched on a stoop to rest his throbbing feet and gather his thoughts.

    ¡°Alright, so no luck so far. But maybe I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Move along,¡± came a voice from a window above Jeremiah¡¯s head. ¡°I¡¯ll not have you dirtying my steps!¡±

    Jeremiah sighed and moved along, winding his way through sparser and sparser passageways until he found a spot to sit. Receded into the shadows of the buildings with just a little effort to clear away the refuse, he was no longer in anyone''s way. He could finally rest.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, buddy, I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll have better luck tomorrow,¡± said Jeremiah. He caught a whiff of his clothing and gagged on the stench of river and fish fat. ¡°That definitely doesn¡¯t help! Tomorrow we¡¯ll clean up. I guess I¡¯ll find a spot along the river. Just need to grab some soap¡­¡± There was a sudden block in Jeremiah¡¯s plan. He needed soap to clean up. But soap costs money. He needed a job to get the soap to get a job.

    Gus pawed at him from his pocket.

    ¡°I know, I know. Here, go find a snack,¡± Jeremiah put Gus down near some trash. Gus pawed through it until he revealed a blackened heel of bread with no shortage of wriggling maggots. The toad croaked happily and began snapping them up. Jeremiah felt a touch jealous. After eating his fill, Gus returned to Jeremiah¡¯s lap nestled in to sleep. Jeremiah leaned his head against the wall and let his eyes close too. He was tired and very hungry. A moment¡¯s rest would¡ª

    ¡°Oi! On your feet! Move!¡±

    A sharp kick to Jeremiah¡¯s ribs lurched him out of sleep. A pair of people loomed over him in the dark. They wore leather breastplates and metal helms, and each had a shortsword and wooden club at their hip. City guards.

    Jeremiah rubbed his eyes. His limbs felt dumb and clumsy and his ribs ached, but he clambered to his feet. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t sleep here,¡± said one of the guards.

    ¡°Why not? Where can I go?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Not our problem. Move!¡±

    Jeremiah turned out onto the streets. The crowds of Elminia thinned after dark, but became much meaner. He gave the people as wide a berth as he could, stumbling between alleyways. He felt much colder than he thought he should. After a few blocks, he turned down a promising new alley and curled up in a corner, tucking his arms tight against his body to ward off the cold. Tired, cold, and hungry, he slept.

    ¡°Oi! On your feet! Move!¡±

    ¡°Come on, leave me alone,¡± mumbled Jeremiah.

    Two guards. The same two guards. ¡°No sleeping here. Keep moving,¡± said the guard. It was only now that Jeremiah heard the boredom in the guard¡¯s voice, and saw the lazy disinterest in her partner¡¯s eyes. It was rote, verbal paperwork. Jeremiah wasn¡¯t having it.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not causing a problem. I¡¯m not bothering anyone. I have as much right to¡­¡± Jeremiah trailed off as the guard drew her wooden baton. ¡°Alright, alright, nevermind.¡±

    Jeremiah had taken just a few steps when a deep, painful shock drove him to his knees. He clutched his side and retched, his vision swimming. The blow had landed right in his liver.

    ¡°You get two next time we find you,¡± said the guard, just as bored as before. They stepped over Jeremiah and continued on their patrol. As tired as Jeremiah was, as much as he was hurt, he was confused. It was still the middle of the night, where was he supposed to go?

    Another bout of wandering and Jeremiah found himself curled up on the stoop of a closed shop. He was just beginning to nod off when he heard familiar footsteps. The ache in his side throbbed, and he staggered to his feet again. All night long, he listened even as he drifted, lest he miss the footsteps that carried a warning he dared not ignore.

 Chapter 19. Honest Work

    Chapter 19. Honest Work

    Bleary, unwashed, and reeking of fish, Jeremiah decided on a more targeted approach. Days of hitting as many shops as possible had yielded exactly zero copper. Most turned him away upon sight, a couple had offered him an odd job, then laughed when he¡¯d asked for payment. When he got wise to that ploy and asked up front, doors were slammed closed in a hurry.

    He had to figure out how to make himself seem valuable, and he had exactly one idea how. With an upbeat smile plastered on his face, he pushed open the door of Prim¡¯s Laundry. Aside from magic, laundry was one of the trades he actually had some skill in.

    The instant he stepped inside, he was transported home. The smell, that perfect chemical smell stung his nostrils, making him think of cleanliness, his mother, and Delilah. Customer¡¯s garments were on racks or stuff sacks crowded the front room, ready to go home. No one greeted him, so he slipped towards the back, where the work was done.

    A dozen great wood basins were lined up side by side, each with a pair of workers on either side. Hot coals burned beneath each basin, and Jeremiah was sweating in moments. Among the toiling launderers, he spotted an elven woman strolling from basin to basin, inspecting the work with a critical eye.

    Jeremiah navigated the piles of dirty clothes of sacks to get within earshot. ¡°Excuse me, ma¡¯am? Are you Prim? My name is Jay, and I¡¯m-¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said Prim, without sparing him a glance.

    ¡°My mother was a launderer, I know everything about it. You wouldn¡¯t need to train me or anything,¡± said Jeremiah. That afforded him at least an appraising glance from Prim.

    She was not impressed with what she saw. ¡°I have more than enough hands for wools and linens, leave.¡±

    ¡°I know how to handle silks,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Furs too. I can clean leather, taffeta, even brocade.¡± His father¡¯s jeweling work had been too fastidious to hold young Jeremiah¡¯s interest, but his mother had always appreciated an extra pair of hands while she worked.

    Prim studied him again, then beckoned him to follow. Grinning for real now, Jeremiah trailed her through the busy room to a small yard behind the building. Clothes hung on lines in the open air, and a smaller tub of heated water occupied a corner, where two men were sat with a bundle of brushes and rags. A third man was paddling some garments out in the sun. They all eyed Jeremiah suspiciously.

    Prim picked an item from the pile beside the two men. Jeremiah surmised these were the more delicate garments, finery too fragile for the work in the main basins. ¡°What is this?¡± Prim asked.

    Jeremiah ran his hands over the full fur coat. It was incredibly soft, but only in one direction. As he ran his hand against the grain of the fur it turned from whisper soft to stiff spines. ¡°Direwolf cub fur,¡± he said. ¡°Very rare.¡± He had only seen it once before as a child, when a rich family¡¯s carriage had overturned near his home, unprepared for the rural roads and autumn rain, and his mother had been paid to salvage their spilled luggage

    The two men at the basin looked at each other in surprise. Prim nodded. ¡°And what¡¯s wrong with it?¡±

    ¡°Not much,¡± he said, inspecting the coat. ¡°It¡¯s been well-cared for. A bit musty, perhaps. Looks like it''s been brushed correctly, no bare patches. I don¡¯t see any stretching¡­ah, here we are.¡± A small patch of fur sticking up, creating an area of angry thorns. ¡°Something spilled on it and wasn¡¯t cleaned correctly. Made the hairs clump together, which means they got twisted and sharp.¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± said Prim. She shot the two men a glare and they suddenly got back to work. ¡°And how would you address this garment?¡±

    ¡°Tricky. Damage has already been done. A bottle of spirit might help, and you¡¯d need tweezers to disentangle the hairs. Or, if ¡®good enough¡¯ is good enough, you can pinch and twist the hair clumps and they¡¯ll separate over time. But you¡¯ll likely lose a few, depending on what this stuff is gumming it together.¡± Jeremiah sniffed the patch. It had a distinctly flowery smell that he couldn¡¯t identify. He pushed the furs apart and saw the skin beneath was dry and cracked. ¡°Ah, someone used handsoap on this spot. Apparently a floral soap?¡±

    ¡°Correct. This coat belongs to the friend of a valued customer. It has been sent here on referral. If I send it back to her in this condition, I will lose a potential client, and maybe even a loyal one. If you can rejuvenate this coat to my liking, I will consider giving you a position.¡±

    Jeremiah¡¯s heart leapt, but he quickly composed his expression to match Prim¡¯s grave countenance. ¡°I¡¯ll need tools. We¡¯re doing this the hard way.¡± It was accepting work before payment again, but something about Prim and the smell of this place put him at ease.

    A hint of a smile crossed Prim¡¯s lips. ¡°Tools and chemicals are inside the work chest there. Take anything you need from anyone.¡±

    Jeremiah banished his hunger and fatigue through sheer force of will. This was the moment he had been waiting for. He buckled down at once, leveraging the intense attention Thurok taught him every step of the way. He spent hours with a solvent and pair of tweezers, until he could separate and clean singular hairs. Even as the sun began to set, he continued his regimen of conditioning, treating, and delicate brushing, always scrutinizing his work for the slightest errant detail that Prim might notice.

    He presented the coat to Prim as dusk fell. ¡°Bundle this with ground coffee beans for two days to get the smell out, and it should be all set.¡± His hands ached and the fatigue nestled deeply behind his eyes, but he was proud of what he¡¯d accomplished.

    Prim inspected the area, holding the coat up to flickering lantern light. ¡°Not perfect. But quite good.¡±

    The criticism didn¡¯t even phase Jeremiah. ¡°Yeah, I think someone tried using a mild acid at some point? No idea why, it weakened the hairs.¡±

    ¡°A citric, yes, I suspect so as well,¡± said Prim. She draped the coat over her arm. ¡°I could use you. Return tomorrow, dawn. I have a collection of brocades that need attention.¡±

    ¡°I hope you have a shady place to dry them? The yard looked far too exposed to sunlight,¡± said Jeremiah.

    A genuine smile at that, tiny but amused. ¡°We do, yes.¡± She reached into an inner pocket and produced five copper coins. ¡°This will be your day¡¯s wages. Should your skills raise up my establishment, so will I raise you up as well. I am departing for the evening, hang the coat before you go.¡±

    ¡° I am on intimate speaking terms with your empress ,¡± Jeremiah wanted to say. Instead he thanked Prim, pocketed his coins, and took the coat out back into the yard.

    ¡°We did it buddy! It was rough going at first, but we did it,¡± said Jeremiah. Gus made a pathetic peeping sound. ¡°Ah, no worries, buddy. We¡¯ll both feel better with some food.¡± He was already salivating at the thought of the bread he could buy for dinner.

    Jeremiah was trying to decide on a suitable spot for the coat, when he was punched in the face. He stumbled, his vision swimming, and someone threw him down hard. A weight settled on his chest as a man sat astride him. It was one of the men who had been washing finery.

    ¡°You think you can walk in and do my   work? Take my money? Food outta my   mouth? I¡¯m a hungry man. You taking food from a hungry man?¡± The man pawed at Jeremiah¡¯s pockets, rifling through them, thankfully missing Gus and saving Jeremiah the difficulties of body disposal. But he did find the five copper.

    ¡°Give that back!¡± Jeremiah shouted. He was incensed, furious, nearly hysterical with the injustice of it.

    ¡°You did my work, so that¡¯s my money.¡± Apparently satisfied with his take, the man stood. Jeremiah scrambled up to his feet, still facing his attacker as the man leered at him. ¡°I won¡¯t be so polite next time I see you round these¡ªHURK!¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Jeremiah had sunk his fist into the man¡¯s throat, sending him backwards, gagging. His fury was indescribable. Allison¡¯s voice was in his ear. ¡° You won¡¯t win by defending. Breath is fight. Take away the breath, take away the fight .¡±

    Jeremiah rushed the man. He drove a knee into the man¡¯s solar plexus, then smashed his nose with the palm of his hand.

    The man¡¯s hands went from his stomach to his bloody face. His nose blocked, his diaphragm malfunctioning, and his throat partially collapsed, he was basically suffocating. The fight was over.

    Strong hands gripped Jeremiah¡¯s arms and yanked them backwards while a boot was planted on his back, driving him to his knees. The two other men from earlier appeared and were now ready to interfere that their friend had been laid low. Jeremiah cursed himself for not noticing them when he¡¯d entered the courtyard. Bruno had taught him better than that.

    ¡°Come on, Vernon, belt him good!¡± the man restraining Jeremiah shouted. Jeremiah struggled in vain, but Vernon was busy gasping, doubled over in pain.

    ¡°Vernon? Come on!¡± the man yelled again. Vernon tried to straighten, but doubled over once more. He was done.

    ¡°Get him to the bleach,¡± said the other man. Jeremiah kicked and struggled as they dragged him backwards, struggling and failing to find purchase to resist.

    They held him face-up over the basin for a second, and he was able to see his adversaries¡¯ faces, ragged from years of exposure to caustic chemicals. Then they plunged him beneath the surface.

    Burning bleach flooded Jeremiah¡¯s skull and he panicked, screaming soundlessly. An agony he had never imagined flooded his senses. He flailed, kicked out wildly, felt his foot connect with something, and the grip on him loosened.

    Jeremiah hauled himself out of the bleach vat and sprinted blindly towards the corner with the water basin. As soon as he collided with it, he threw himself in head first. The shock of cold barely even registered as he resurfaced for more air, and then plunged himself in again.

    Slowly, slowly, the flames of pain began to subside. The burning did not completely fade from the sensitive tissues of his eyes, sinuses, and throat, though, and Jeremiah knew every breath would hurt for days to come.

    He became aware of laughter in the yard. The men were watching his struggle with great amusement. ¡°Nice and clean then, are yeh?¡± they said. ¡°Go on, get out! Don¡¯t let us see you again!¡±

    Shaking on his legs, Jeremiah started feeling his way towards the exit. His eyes were sore and swollen, and he kept them nearly closed. There was nothing he wanted more than to leave this yard and these men behind forever.

    ¡°No,¡± rasped Vernon. Jeremiah¡¯s blood ran cold. Though his nose was surely broken and his face was smeared with blood, Vernon had regained enough strength to speak. ¡°Take him¡­round back¡­Cutter will¡­want to¡­see him.¡±

    Jeremiah tried to flee, but the men fell upon him in a moment. Their hands felt like brands on his scalded skin as they seized him.

    The men dragged Jeremiah into a back lot behind a dank alley. It appeared to have once been a shop yard, but the fence had calved it away and turned it into an alley end. The lot¡¯s inhabitants, and there were many, lounged on stools and splintering chairs, piles of carpets and burlap sacks. They were surly looking, and dull. Some talking, some were gambling, most were drinking.

    Jeremiah¡¯s captors heaved him into the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust that caked over his still-damp skin.

    ¡°Oooh, we got a lost little lamb!¡± A beady-eyed human with a patchy beard sneered down at where Jeremiah crouched in the dirt. Jeremiah noted the blade sheathed at his hip, more like a long knife than a proper sword.

    The men in the lot roused to attention at the leader¡¯s proclamation. Well, some of them did. Many remained in whatever stupor they were lost in.

    ¡°Tourist come ¡®round taking work from honest men,¡± said Vernon. ¡°Prim gave him five copper for a day¡¯s work.  Five!  Ain¡¯t that for loyalty!¡±

    ¡°A tourist in Cutter¡¯s turf? Taking Cutter¡¯s money?¡± said their leader. His voice was pitchy, agitated. To Jeremiah¡¯s surprise he seemed anxious, like a new guy on his turf was some kind of threat.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want any trouble,¡± Jeremiah said, trying to stand. The dust was like acid on his skin.

    ¡°Oh, no trouble at all,¡± said the man Jeremiah assumed was Cutter. ¡°We can fix this right as rain, no trouble at all.¡±

    ¡°Sure, whatever you say,¡± said Jeremiah, holding his hands up to show he didn¡¯t want to fight.

    ¡°Whatever I say, that¡¯s right,¡± said Cutter. He took a step towards Jeremiah. ¡°You took five copper from my man. I think fair¡¯s fair that you owe me¡­hmmm,¡± He rubbed his patchy chin in deep thought. ¡°Five silver should do it.¡±

    Jeremiah was stunned. ¡°That¡¯s ten times what I was paid! And he took the copper back!¡± He thrust an accusing finger towards Vernon.

    Cutter whirled on Vernon, who recoiled and coughed up the five copper. The coins disappeared into Cutter¡¯s pockets. Then he turned back to Jeremiah. ¡°You owe me five silver, Tourist. Now pay up.¡±

    ¡°B-but,¡± Jeremiah stammered. The gang of men had formed a circle around them, and were closing. ¡°I need some time! I¡¯m sure in a week¡ª¡±

    They jumped on him, all at once. Far too many to fend off, and Jeremiah was in no state to do so anyway. In a matter of moments, he was pinned on his back, his hands and feet held down.

    Cutter crouched beside Jeremiah¡¯s left side. ¡°You came all this way to steal my money, that¡¯s something Cutter doesn¡¯t tolerate. What¡¯s your name, Tourist?¡±

    ¡°J-Jay,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡° Stay calm¡± , he thought,  ¡°nothing is going to be helped by panicking.¡±

    ¡°Jay, you owe me five silver.¡± He turned Jeremiah¡¯s hand over so it was palm down in the dirt. ¡°You know how much five silver is? Let¡¯s count together. One.¡± Cutter stabbed the tip of the knife into the base of Jeremiah¡¯s pinky nail and twisted.

    Jeremiah¡¯s body spasmed in pain. He reflexively tried to clench his hand into a fist, but it was pinned flat. Even through the pain and the fear, he was sickeningly aware he could feel his fingernail shift.

    ¡°Two,¡± said Cutter, and moved to the next finger, repeating the process. Jeremiah felt this one touch bone.

    ¡°Three,¡± said Cutter. This one was slightly off target, and pierced the flesh to the side of his finger, sticking into the dirt on the other side.

    ¡°Four,¡± said Cutter. Again, off target, this one piercing through the nail directly and cracking it in half.

    ¡°Aaaand five!¡± Instead of a puncture, Cutter sliced the tip of the dagger along the back of Jeremiah¡¯s, neatly splitting the skin nearly to his wrist. The crowd Oo¡¯d at this last one.

    Jeremiah screamed. He screamed because it was all he could do.

    ¡°That¡¯s the down payment,¡± said Cutter, sheathing the knife. ¡°Have my money next time I see you, you little shit!¡±

    Jeremiah nodded with his eyes shut tight, tears running down his face. Suddenly he was being pummeled and kicked as, for a few more brutal seconds, the gang beat him relentlessly. Jeremiah instinctively curled into a ball to protect Gus and guard against the rain of blows. Then he was thrown back to the entrance of the alley by the men as they laughed, reveling both in the torment and the fact that they hadn¡¯t been the target.

    Filthy, pouring blood from his hand, Jeremiah bolted. He paid no attention to where he was going, he just knew he had to get away, far away. The air burned his damaged throat, but still he ran, dodging down alleys to avoid the still-crowded streets.

    Jeremiah fled until his body failed him, then he crawled into the darkest corner he could find and made himself as small as he could. A light rain had begun to fall. Pain and exhaustion made Jeremiah¡¯s head swim, and his empty stomach heaved bile onto the dirt.

    Blood continued streaming from his thumb. Jeremiah lacked even a rag to bandage the wound. His blood ran down his arm and dripped to the ground, where it mixed with his sick and flowed in a tiny rivulet towards the mouth of the alley.

    ¡°Poor lad.¡± Jeremiah snapped awake, not sure if the voice had been a dream. But no, someone was standing over him. The little river of vomit and blood pooled around the man¡¯s shiny black shoes, but he paid it no mind as he looked down on Jeremiah¡¯s huddled form. ¡°Poor, poor lad. Tell me, my boy, what¡¯s your name?¡±

 Chapter 20. Olâ€™ Pete

    Chapter 20. Ol¡¯ Pete

    ¡°Poor lad. You¡¯re new to town, I take it?¡± The man was well-dressed in a tailored suit. A gold brooch of a cluster of grapes was pinned to his lapel, tiny amethysts that managed to sparkle even in their dull surroundings. The man smiled down at Jeremiah.

    ¡°Help,¡± Jeremiah whimpered, holding up his mangled hand. ¡°I need help.¡±

    The man sniffed the air. ¡°Come in from Otto''s, did you? Fine way to enter the city, fine indeed. Not for the faint of heart. Any luck finding work, lad?¡± The man ignored the bloody hand like he couldn¡¯t even see it.

    ¡°Work? Yes. No.¡± Jeremiah was starting to feel disoriented. ¡°Look, sir, I know you don¡¯t know me. But I really need some help.¡±

    ¡°Tragic that, tragic,¡± said the man, shaking his head. ¡°Hands come cheap in Elminia, yes they do.¡± The river of sick and blood continued to pool around the man¡¯s shoes, but it seemed to bother him no more than the light mist from above. ¡°Might need your name first, lad.¡±

    ¡°Jay from Shabad,¡± said Jeremiah. Despite his condition, the words sprang easily to mind. His story had been drilled into him relentlessly.

    ¡°Well, Jay from Shabad, I don¡¯t suppose you have any money to pay for the kind of help you need?¡±

    ¡°No, I just got robbed. But I¡¯m good for it! I can get money, I can¡ª¡±

    ¡°Perish the thought! Ol¡¯ Pete doesn¡¯t deal in loans.¡± Ol¡¯ Pete crouched down next to Jeremiah, stepping fully into the lake of fluids at his feet. ¡°How about you just owe me a favor, hmm?¡±

    An alarm bell sounded in Jeremiah¡¯s head. That sounded dangerous.  Exceptionally dangerous. But what choice did he have? His whole body was throbbing in pain, and he was starting to shiver in the rain. He didn¡¯t need Delilah to tell him he risked illness or infection if he stayed on the streets tonight.

    ¡°Sure,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°I¡¯ll owe you a favor, that¡¯s okay. Just help, please help.¡±

    Pete beamed him a smile that was all teeth. ¡°Of course! No trouble, Jay, no trouble at all. Clearly Elminia has given you quite the reception, as she''s wont to do. Come with me, right this way.¡±

    Pete patiently waited for Jeremiah to stand on legs that quivered like a newborn foal¡¯s.

    ¡°Splendid,¡± said Pete, retaining the smile. He put a supportive hand on Jeremiah¡¯s elbow and guided him out into the dark human rivers of Elminia. Pete navigated them with practiced ease, even with Jeremiah in tow. No curse or spit fell upon them, no shouts or shove slowed their travel. Jeremiah could have sworn he saw people actively avoid looking at them.

    They crossed into a quieter street, one of those pockets of wealth with slightly nicer, less askew townhouses. ¡°Here we are,¡± said Pete. He led Jay through the tiny wooden gate barricading the property from the street and rapped on the door.

    ¡°Wait, don¡¯t you live here?¡± asked Jeremiah. ¡°Why are you knocking?¡±

    The door opened to a bespectacled halfling man with a pleasant smile.¡°Good evening, gentlemen,¡± he said, ¡°what can I¡­Oh, Pete.¡± The color drained from his face and he retreated back inside.

    ¡°Evening, Skiva,¡± said Pete, pulling Jeremiah into the home uninvited. The door clicked shut against the torment of the streets, and Jeremiah found himself in the foyer of a home that promised warmth, safety, and comfort. He felt horribly out of place.

    ¡°Hun? who is it?¡± a lightly feminine voice asked from further inside. A halfling woman in a crisp apron and bonnet peeked around a corner. There was a crack of falling pottery as she laid eyes on Pete.

    ¡°Patricia,¡± said Pete in greeting.

    ¡°You know Pete?¡± hissed Skiva at his wife.

    ¡°You  know Pete?¡± Patricia countered.

    ¡°Choices, choices,¡± said Pete, looking between them. ¡°Skiva, I''m afraid the day has come. I''ll be needing use of your home for a time.¡±

    ¡°For¡­for how long?¡± asked Skiva. His eyes went to Jeremiah, and Jeremiah could read a litany of fears behind them.

    Patricia came out into the entry and clasped hands with Skiva.

    ¡°Just for tonight,¡± said Pete.

    There was a skittering of feet, and a pair of young halfling girls scampered into the room to investigate the new voice in their home. They skidded to a stop at the sight of Jeremiah and hid behind their parents.

    ¡°Hello Lucille, Lyra.¡± said Pete. Skiva and Patricia gripped their children closer.

    ¡°Uh, I have a surprise, girls! We''ll be staying in an inn tonight.¡± said Skiva.

    The children¡¯s shyness was banished and they erupted in excited energy. ¡°A real inn? With adventurers and mead and¡­¡±

    ¡°Ski, where exactly are we supposed to go? Are we just going from inn to inn asking for rooms?¡± said Patricia, locking down one child while the other wriggled free.

    ¡°Perish the thought!¡± Pete waved a hand. ¡°Head to The Drunken Gull and tell Alexander you need a room on behalf of Ol¡¯ Pete.¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    Skiva and his wife looked anxiously at each other.

    ¡°Worry not,¡± said Pete, ¡°no favor owed. This one is on me. But I  do  need you to make your way, quickly now.¡±

    ¡°Alright kids, grab your things,¡± said Patricia, hurrying them along. In only a few hurried minutes the family departed, tempestuous tykes in tow.

    Pete turned towards Jeremiah with a wide smile. ¡°Alright, my boy, let¡¯s take care of that hand before you bleed all over this lovely home.¡± He led Jeremiah to the kitchen, where the furniture was miniaturized and the dishes were half-finished, and inspected the wound in the light.

    Jeremiah winced as Pete dabbed his hand with a damp cloth. The older man fished in his vest and produced a length of thin wire and a hooked needle. ¡°Wait, what are you¡ªARUGHHH!¡± Jeremiah screamed as Pete squeezed the flesh around the wound together. He tried to wrench his hand away, but Pete¡¯s grip was like iron.

    ¡°Keep still boy, keep still,¡± murmured Pete. Once Jeremiah stopped struggling, Pete pierced the skin with a hook and began threading the wire through over and over again, stitching the wound shut while Jeremiah bit into his other hand. ¡°There we are,¡± said he with a smile, ¡°that¡¯ll keep the red bits on the inside, won¡¯t it? Now, why don¡¯t we scare you up a spot of dinner.¡±

    ?

    The pantry, it so happened, contained cheese, bread, apples, and biscuits. Jeremiah quickly overcame any misgivings about eating the halfling family¡¯s food, and fell upon it with gusto. Pete didn¡¯t eat or speak, merely waited patiently on as Jeremiah devoured the offerings.

    It was the most satisfying meal he had had in weeks. The food sat warm in his belly, and despite the horrific events of the evening and the pain persisting all over his body, Jeremiah felt at peace. Everything was going to be alright.

    He was wondering if it would be stretching the hospitality of his host to return to the pantry for another round when Pete spoke. "My good lad. Jay. I truly am sorry for what happened to you.¡± Pete¡¯s face was etched with sympathy. ¡°You were accosted by men of ill repute, who took advantage of your isolation. Nobody deserves the cruelties visited upon you, poor boy.¡±

    The kind words nourished Jeremiah nearly as much as the food and warmth. How fortunate he was to have met this man! Who would have thought such a wretched city could deliver him such a benevolent savior as Ol¡¯ Pete.

    No sooner had he thought it than an alarm bell sounded in his head. Bruno¡¯s voice came to him. ¡° If it seems too good to be true, it definitely is. ¡± Jeremiah blinked. How did Pete know what had happened to him?

    ¡°Tell me lad, what brings you to Elminia, so unprepared and unconnected?¡± Pete folded his hands on the table and leaned toward Jeremiah. It was meant to show interest, but Jeremiah found himself compelled to lean away.

    ¡°Got into some trouble in Shabad, sir,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Ran with the wrong crowd, against my better judgment. Needed to take some space away."

    Pete nodded sagely. ¡°Ah yes, plenty of opportunity for trouble in Shabad for a young lad. I¡¯ve visited Shabad many a time, you know. Some of the finest fruit in the world grown in Shabad, don''t you think?¡±

    Jeremiah shrugged. ¡°Yeah, I guess they¡¯re fine."

    ¡°I was always partial to the markets on the Road of Royals, myself,¡± continued Pete. ¡°Tell me, Jay, did you have any favorites? Any recommendations for my next visit?¡±

    ¡°Not really,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of markets, and I haven¡¯t tried them all. Besides, I¡¯ve heard most of them are owned by one guy who has them all competing to sell the same things.¡± Which was actually true. Word was there was no bigger scam than becoming an independent merchant in Shabad.

    Pete chuckled. ¡°But you must have visited the Road of Royals, yes?¡±

    ¡°Of course, it¡¯s the biggest market street in the city,¡± said Jeremiah. This was a lot easier than when Delilah was testing his cover story.

    ¡°Jay, tell me of the troubles encountered. Perhaps its something ol¡¯ Pete can help with! I¡¯m known for my sympathetic ear, I am.¡±

    ¡°Just made enemies of the wrong people. Better to get some distance for a while til things cool off,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Pete nodded again, nothing but kind understanding. ¡°All too common a happening to a young man just trying to make his way. And what was your line of work in Shabad?¡±

    ¡°You could say I was a specialist in discretion.¡± Jeremiah watched Pete¡¯s face closely for a reaction, but the other man¡¯s expression of sincerest sympathy did not so much as flicker.

    ¡°I think you''ll learn to like Elminia,¡± said Pete. ¡°She has a wealth of opportunity for a young lad of your skills, if only you know where to look.¡± He gave Jeremiah another winning smile. ¡°The right friends can make all the difference there. I was born here, you see, and while I admit she takes some getting used to, you need only learn how best to twist the fortune from her.¡±

    The odd turn of phrase caught Jeremiah¡¯s ear. That¡¯s what Pete was doing right now, to Jeremiah¡ªprodding and testing, learning how to twist him to the exact shape needed. He had to be careful.

    Arranging his features to show what he hoped was the expected amount of gratitude, Jeremiah nodded. ¡°Thanks for sharing some of your fortune with me. I can tell you¡¯re a useful person to know around here.¡±

    Pete bowed his head with a humble smile, and Jeremiah knew he¡¯d hit a point of genuine pride in the man. ¡°I only do what I can to help those less fortunate than myself,¡± Pete said. ¡°We all must help raise each other up here in Elminia, lest the city succumb to those ruled by baser urges.¡±

    Another odd phrase. Jeremiah didn¡¯t think Elminia was about to succumb to Cutter and his gang. Could Pete be referring to the cult? He remembered what Bruno had reported, about something coming. Maybe he could do some twisting of his own. ¡°Pete, does the city always feel like this?¡±

    ¡°Mmm? To what do you refer, lad?¡± Pete raised a questioning eyebrow, but Jeremiah thought he saw recognition underneath. Maybe even fear.

    ¡°People seem strange here. Like the whole city runs hot.¡±

    Pete smiled in that way that didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes. ¡°Elminia¡¯s always been a place that rewards ambition, we¡¯re quite well known for it.¡±

    ¡°But this seems like more than that,¡± Jeremiah pressed. ¡°It¡¯s almost frantic, like¡­I don¡¯t know, like an itch or something.¡± Did he know? He didn¡¯t know where the wording had come from, but it felt accurate.

    Pete laughed, a little too loud and a little too long. ¡°That will happen in the highest production city in the world, you know. You¡¯ll get used to the hustle and bustle in time, I¡¯m quite sure, especially with the help of a good night¡¯s rest.¡±

    Abruptly, Pete shoved away from the table. He clasped Jeremiah¡¯s good hand in both of his own. ¡°A pleasure to meet you, Jay. I must depart to attend other business, but please make yourself quite comfortable, and I¡¯m sure we will be in touch soon. Musn¡¯t forget a favor owed, after all.¡±

    With a wink, Pete departed, leaving Jeremiah alone in a stranger¡¯s home.

 Chapter 21. Progress

    Chapter 21. Progress

    His body still ached and throbbed from the beating he¡¯d endured the night before, but Jeremiah¡¯s spirits were higher than they¡¯d been in weeks. Besides the food and rest, Jeremiah had attempted to remove the fish stink from his clothing. But each delicate soap he had found and used had only managed to mix with the fish to create something new and worse.

    Besides the soap and food, the only thing Jeremiah had allowed himself to take from the house was a metal pan he¡¯d spotted in the bin. The inside was thickly laid with the lumpy remains of a blackened dinner, someone had badly burned their meal, then given up the pan as lost. The underside, however, was smooth and flat¡ªperfect to practice enchanting. He was thankful Cutter hadn¡¯t ruined his inscribing hand.

    Bruno would have chided him for getting distracted from the mission, but Jeremiah had thought of an idea last night that he just couldn¡¯t shake. Once he tried it and got it out of his head, then he¡¯d be able to think about the mission.

    Jeremiah joined the throng of Elminians, trying to move through them the way he¡¯d seen Pete do. If anything, he was shoved and jostled more for his impudence. Nevertheless, he managed to make his way to a quiet alley. Then he left and picked another alley several more blocks away from Cutter¡¯s lot, just in case. He arranged himself to be able to see if anyone was coming, and set to work.

    The new diagram took him an hour to complete. As the finishing touch, he lay a length of copper wire within a long trough he had carved. The copper was not just a bridge, but a conduit in itself, and one that Jeremiah hoped would slow the flow of magic considerably.

    Hopefully the diagram read Strengthen¡­Pause. Functionally, it should have been identical to the Strengthen plate he had made on the way to Elminia, but achieved with much less effort.

    ¡°I am patient,¡± Jeremiah told himself. ¡°I understand this will likely not work. I am okay with that.¡±

    Jeremiah placed his hands on the pan, spoke the words, and felt the magic flow from him. The runes glowed briefly. Jeremiah noticed little black flecks on the pan and wondered if they were food, then shook his head to clear the thought. It still surprised him how much more of his focus enchanting required compared to necromancy.

    ¡°Moment of truth, buddy,¡± he said. Gus looked up from his refuse pile and croaked.

    Jeremiah ran the inscription tool across the surface of the pan, leaving no mar in its wake. The enchantment had worked.

    ¡°Would it have been so hard for you to just tell me that?¡± Jeremiah grumbled at Thurok in absentia.

    ¡° It would have been easy to tell you what to do ,¡± said Thurok in his head, ¡° but something something, you¡¯re weak and incompetent, something something .¡±

    Jeremiah looked over his work and realized he had forgotten to feel proud of it. But the feeling never came. It was satisfying that it worked, but worthy of pride? He¡¯d save that for the weapons. And this simpler diagram was one he might actually be able to put on a piece of gear. It lacked all the redundancies that Allison¡¯s armor had, but it was a possibility that hadn¡¯t existed before.

    Of course, a flat plate was one thing. Taking this same diagram and somehow resizing it and wrapping it around the blade of a sword? He had no clue how to do that.

    Gus croaked again and crawled all over the pan, banging his feet on the Strengthen rune.

    ¡°What? You want me to make it stronger?¡±

    Gus chased a cockroach.

    Jeremiah shrugged and, with considerable effort, pried the copper wire from its housing. The enchantment, now effectively doing nothing, was inert. He was about to start carving another Strengthen rune when he got another flash of inspiration.

    After having been Strengthened once, carving another rune into the pan was onerous. It took Jeremiah the rest of the morning before he was able to sit back and admire his work.

    The diagram now read If Strengthen, Strengthen.

    ¡°There, happy? Now if it¡¯s being strengthened it will strengthen itself. And it will do that until¡­uhh¡­I guess it won¡¯t stop.¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    He placed his hands on the pan and charged it again. Nothing seemed to change. He left no mark with the inscription tool, but that had already been true.

    ¡°Sorry, buddy, I don¡¯t think it¡ª¡±

    Jeremiah yelped as the pan shattered like glass, disintegrating into thousands of metal shards. He waited, frozen and waiting for something else to happen.

    After several minutes, Jeremiah relaxed. ¡°Okay, that was awesome,¡± he said, ¡°but not what I meant to do.¡± He pondered the result. How would he explain what had happened to Delilah if she were here? He set up the enchantment to make the pan harder and harder, until¡­ ¡°Oh, I get it! It became infinitely hard and that made it infinitely brittle¡­I think.¡±

    It felt like he had solved a little mystery. Jeremiah wasn¡¯t sure if he could actually  do  anything with it, but it was certainly something he hadn¡¯t known before. He desperately wanted a new piece of metal to work on.

    ?

    ¡°Spare a copper, sir? Ma¡¯am? Spare a copper?¡± In Jeremiah¡¯s mind, the act of begging was something he would resort to when all else had failed. He had not anticipated that his breaking point would be so soon into his mission. It had been a week since Prim¡¯s and he didn¡¯t dare return there, or to any business within a ten street radius of Cutter¡¯s lot. He found himself back on the treadmill of trying to feed himself before he could manage anything else.

    The supper with Pete was a memory he revisited often, though he despaired at how quickly the hunger had returned. Within a day, his ungrateful body was demanding more food. Part of him hoped Pete would reappear to repeat their exchange of help now for ephemeral future favors.

    The crowds rushed by at such a pace that Jeremiah was barely noticeable to passers-by. How many such people had Jeremiah ignored, back when he¡¯d had somewhere to go? When he¡¯d had coin in his pocket and bread under his arm?

    Jeremiah forced his thoughts back to his present situation. Fantasizing about meals he¡¯d had was fine for helping him pass the time between guard patrols all night, but it didn¡¯t actually get him any closer to his goal. Which was food.

    No! Jeremiah reminded himself. The goal was to infiltrate a criminal underworld, uncover a sadistic cult, and return information to the empress. All this to help his friends, who were being targeted because of something he did. Jeremiah forced himself to dwell on that guilt for a minute. It dismayed him how quickly the needs of the moment overrode what he actually needed to do here.

    An elven woman appeared in front of him. ¡°Now why should I give you money that I worked for when you¡¯ve done no work at all?¡±

    Jeremiah was used to this kind of question by now. The only reason anyone ever stopped was to berate him. Sometimes, he stuck up for himself, tried to explain the challenges he faced, but it never actually resulted in a coin, so most times he didn¡¯t bother. He offered the woman a bland smile. She harrumphed with satisfaction and went on her way.

    ¡°Spare a copper? No? How about you, sir? Of course not.¡± Jeremiah glanced in all directions in case Cutter¡¯s men were nearby, and drew his feet up closer to keep them from getting crushed under the wheels of a passing carriage.

    There was an undeniable urgency in the air. Over the past week, Jeremiah had begun to recognize it from Bruno¡¯s description. He saw it in the way people rushed from place to place, never talking to one another. Fights were frequent, even in the middle of the day and between people who were sober.

    Then there were the things that were just strange. Jeremiah didn¡¯t have any other way to categorize them. Like the man holding a knife in the crowd, he saw incidents that were somehow wrong. A business woman dressed in finery devouring raw beef hearts outside the butcher. A suicide by a guard immolating himself in the gutter with a bottle of lamp oil. A roofer who had suddenly turned and gouged out the eyes of his colleague in the middle of the street.

    Finally, there were the dreams, or rather the lack thereof. At first, Jeremiah thought he simply wasn¡¯t getting the chance to sleep deep enough to dream, but he was starting to suspect he was indeed dreaming, and forgetting. He awoke each morning as though from a nightmare, his heart racing and sweat on his skin, searching wildly for¡­something. He could never remember what, but he was certain it had just fled.

    Jeremiah glanced around again, just in case. He felt exposed out here, visible on the street. Cutter¡¯s men could be anywhere, he had no idea how far their territory reached. He was in no hurry to meet the other gangs that may be around either, not after what had happened. Bruno had warned him that a man with no friends on the streets was a dead man, but Jeremiah couldn¡¯t see a way to make friends without risking becoming a victim again.

    There was the Pit, of course. Bruno had warned him to stay away from the Pit without a crew to back him up, but he couldn¡¯t stay up here either. Surely the Pit gangs couldn¡¯t be worse than Cutter¡¯s, right? His thumb throbbed, and he shuddered at the thought.

    He needed an in, and it all came back to Pete. Pete would know how to get him into the Pit. But how to get him to share what he knew, especially without owing him more favors? There was a danger to Pete that he couldn¡¯t quite understand, but he knew that Pete was not really his friend. Helpful, perhaps, if Jeremiah could play his cards right, but never safe.

    Besides, Jeremiah had no idea how to even find Pete. He supposed he could just start asking around, but that seemed like a good way to attract the wrong kind of attention.

    Jeremiah climbed to his feet. He had wasted enough hours sitting here and feeling sorry for himself. If he hurried, maybe he could scavenge some decent scraps from behind the bake house.

    He just stepped into the flow of traffic when a hair-raising shriek pierced the din.

 Chapter 22. Payment

    Chapter 22. Payment

    Jeremiah turned in the direction of the scream, earning himself a torrent of swears and shoves from the other members of the current. But the scream was echoed again and again, finally causing enough disturbance that the implacable stream of Elminia was disrupted. People began to strain their necks and look around nervously, unsure of what was happening and where the screams were coming from. But Jeremiah quickly saw when part of the stream ran ran backwards, quickly backing away from something

    Suspended high above the crowd was a body. Even from this distance, Jeremiah could tell it was freshly killed¡ªblood dripped onto the crowd below. The people under the deluge scrambled to get away, some being knocked to the ground and smeared in red mud.

    Jeremiah fought his way towards the body, fighting against the direction of the crowd as people backed away, eyes fixed on the horrific sight. The body had been stripped naked and hoisted aloft by wires connecting it to the buildings on either side of the street, it¡¯s arms fully extended. The torso was wrapped so tightly in more wire that it resembled bread rising around twine. It was as if a metal spider had captured its prey and heaved it up for all to see. The head was missing, instead only an ovoid rod of metal jutted up from the stump of the neck, creating a facsimile of a complete body, albeit with a miniscule skull.

    ¡°Did anyone see what happened?¡± Jeremiah called out. This had to be one of the cult murders the Empress had talked about. It was ghastly and dramatic, seemingly ceremonial in the extent of the preparation. But how had it gotten all the way up there with no one noticing? No one answered his question, lost as it was in the various shouts and voices around him.

    He stared up at it, scanning the body for clues to its history or killer. He could see great gouges in the flesh around the wire wrappings, but nothing fatal. It was male, human, and well-muscled. A laborer of some sort? Or a soldier? Adventurer? He had put up a fight, whoever he was. Jeremiah quickly scanned the crowd for anyone with obvious injuries that might be watching their handiwork, but no one met the criteria.

    ¡°How did this happen?¡± Jeremiah muttered aloud. The body was pouring blood, this person was recently killed. Maybe even  just  killed. How did it get hoisted up like this in enough time for it to still be bleeding so freely?

    He followed the wires to the two supporting roofs and saw they were looped around hooks that had been hammered into the masonry. That would have taken time. Jeremiah slowly closed in on an assumption¨Che had likely been restrained, bound to bursting in the wire that Jeremiah could see still gleamed in the sun, never used. He saw indigo bruising around the wires where they had moved while he struggled. He¡¯d been wrapped up for a while. Jeremiah couldn¡¯t imagine how painful that must have been.

    Someone finally broke away from the crowd, a man gazing up at the body in awe. He wore the apron and clothes of a baker, flour dust still on his cheeks and beneath the nails of his thick hands. Walking as if in a daze, he stepped just in front of the pouring streams of blood, looking dreamily at them. He stuck out his hand and let the blood fill his cupped palm. Then stepped fully beneath the stream, shuddering and exalting beneath the shower. Blood cascaded down his head washing away the flour and painting him red.

    The crowd gasped and recoiled in disgust. The man looked up and let the blood pour into his mouth. A woman stepped out from the other side of the street. An elven woman, elegant and venerable, wearing the complex and baubled attire of aristocracy. She walked just as the man had, the crowd shifted nervously as more gasps and frightened shouts went up. She stepped in front of the man, still exalting in his baptism. He looked to her. She smiled nervously. He reached out his hand. She took it. He pulled her into a passionate embrace as they kissed furiously beneath the torrent of blood, coating each other with desperate hands.

    Jeremiah stared in shock, as did everyone else. There was something so horrifyingly taboo about what he was looking at. Each aspect was bad enough on its own, but together¡­together they spoke to something far darker.

    ¡°Move!¡± someone screamed, nearly in his ear. A man shoved Jeremiah and several others aside. ¡°He¡¯s not getting any deader! Move! Worthless gawkers! Leave it to the guards!¡± The man was red faced with fury as he crashed his way through the crowd, stomped through the empty space in the road, and crashed his way into the crowd on the opposite side. Never so much as glancing upward.

    His march seemed to restore Elminia¡¯s pulse, as the crowd suddenly surged ahead again, the flow of people restored. Though it still parted, as little as possible, to avoid the flow of blood and the passionate couple.

    ¡°What in all the evils of the world is going on in this city?¡± said Jeremiah.

    A woman bumped him, spat on him, and without thinking Jeremiah reached out and yanked her back by the hair. She screamed and snarled at him, and Jeremiah jammed a hand in her pocket and yanked out a coin, then shoved her along with an indignant shout. He ducked away from the scene, breaking off down a new street and finding a stoop to sit on.

    Jeremiah fished in his pocket, and found a silver coin. The coin trembled in his palm. It could be food, or safety for a night. But where had it come from again? Right, the woman.

    ¡°She deserved that,¡±  thought Jeremiah,  ¡°Lucky I didn¡¯t break her face.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±  asked Allison.

    Jeremiah winced. Why had he done that? That was incredibly excessive¡­but the coin.

    ¡°Hello, Tourist,¡± said Cutter.

    Jeremiah tried to flee like a frightened rabbit. He hadn¡¯t seen the group of men that had formed around the stoop all at once, so engrossed in the coin he had been.

    Hands grabbed onto Jeremiah and threw him back onto the stoop. Jeremiah hit the ground hard. There was laughter, familiar and cruel.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Payment¡¯s due,¡± said Cutter. Jeremiah scrambled to face him. He had half a dozen men with him, who fanned out to cut off Jeremiah¡¯s escape. Cutter¡¯s hands kept yanking at his hair, and a thin line of drool hung from the corner of his grin. He looked even more deranged than last time.

    ¡°Here, take it!¡± Jeremiah tossed the silver coin to Cutter¡¯s feet. ¡°That¡¯s all I have.¡± There was no defiance in him to be found, just a painful terror.

    Cutter began bouncing on his toes. He seemed agitated and frantic. ¡°Not enough, is it? Not enough! Put it in the paper!¡±

    With a shriek, Cutter leapt the distance between them and swung a fist at Jeremiah¡¯s head. Jeremiah recoiled and managed to deflect the initial blow, but Cutter kept swinging, raining fists down over Jeremiah¡¯s body, head, back¡ªanywhere he could reach. ¡°Where¡¯s my money? Gimme my money! Put it in the paper!¡± Cutter yelled over and over again.

    Cutter didn¡¯t even seem to notice the few strikes Jeremiah managed to land. Jeremiah realized that Cutter was on something. He was too fast, too reckless, too intent on hurting Jeremiah to notice his own pain.

    Jeremiah abandoned his defense and curled up. Cutter clawed at his shirt and ripped it open. He tore at Jeremiah¡¯s trousers, emptying the pockets and sending enchanting tools and lock picks flying. ¡°This is my shit now, this is all my shit now!¡± Cutter shouted.

    Jeremiah was being robbed, stripped, in broad daylight. He was dimly aware that a crowd had gathered outside of the perimeter established by Cutter¡¯s men. Nobody seemed interested in interfering.

    Jeremiah¡¯s hand fell on his metal files. He seized it, planted his heels, and thrust the file upward towards Cutter¡¯s throat.

    The file gouged the underside of Cutter¡¯s chin. Cutter recoiled, shouting. His face went red and his eyes bulged. He screamed in psychotic rage, then fell upon Jeremiah with even more fury. The crowd oohed and aahed.

    ¡°I¡¯m the big man! I¡¯m the big man! I¡¯m ten men tall!¡± Cutter screamed. His nails raked Jeremiah¡¯s exposed skin, his fists pummeled every inch they could find. When Jeremiah tried to twist away, Cutter kicked him in the teeth, snapping his head backwards and filling his mouth with blood.

    There was no fight to be won here. Jeremiah curled into himself, covered his head with his arms, and tried to survive.

    Gradually, Cutter¡¯s drug-fueled rage slowed. His breathing grew labored, the blows more intermittent until they stopped altogether. ¡°See ya¡­tomorrow¡­Tourist,¡± Cutter panted, climbing to his feet.

    ¡°Look, guy had a frog,¡± said one of Cutter¡¯s men. Gus was trying to hop to the relative safety of the alley refuse, having been torn away with Jeremiah¡¯s clothes.

    Without a moment¡¯s hesitation Cutter screamed and ran at Gus, kicking him into a wall as hard as he could.

    Jeremiah¡¯s thoughts were shredded to a thousand microscopic fragments. Consciousness fled, leaving only darkness.

    He groaned before he was fully awake. Fragments of what had happened began reforming in his mind, coalescing memories of fear and pain and¡ªGus!

    One of his eyes was swollen completely shut, the other restricted to a narrow slit. It was still daytime and he was on the same street. Someone had dragged him to the side, out of the way of foot traffic. People passing didn¡¯t even glance at him. Apparently the beating in progress was more entertaining than the results.

    ¡°Gus, where¡¯s Gus?¡± Jeremiah gagged. Something was loose in his mouth. He rolled onto his hands and knees, and realized his clothes had been shredded. The remains of his trousers hung loose on his hips, this shirt was gone.

    ¡°Gus! Where are you, buddy?¡± He crawled to where he had seen Gus land and pawed through the refuse. ¡°Come on, buddy, please,¡± he whispered.

    His fingertips brushed something soft and clammy. Jeremiah gently lifted Gus¡¯s limp form from the detritus. Gus¡¯ spines were fully protruded, his color sickly and yellowed. One of his legs was turned the wrong way around. He felt heavier than Jeremiah remembered.

    Jeremiah cradled Gus to his chest. ¡°It''s okay, buddy, I¡¯m here,¡± he choked. ¡°I¡¯m here, don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m here.¡±

    People rushed past uncaring, on their way to or from, but Jeremiah knelt in the dirt, holding his entire world in his hands. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, buddy.¡± Tears streamed freely down his face. ¡°Gods, I¡¯m so, so sorry.¡±

    Gus peeped.

    Jeremiah nearly fell from how quickly he tried to move. Holding Gus firmly against his chest, ever careful not to touch the spines, Jeremiah ran. His every muscle protested as he forced his legs to carry him, his ribs seared with every ragged breath.

    Never before had he detested the crowds of Elminia as strongly as this moment. He dashed and dodged around people and carts, darted down side paths, ignored the pain that flared with every movement, ignored the abuse hurled at him by whoever he knocked down. None of that mattered. Nothing mattered except that Gus needed him.

    He and his friends had agreed upon a series of procedures for how best to approach the apartment. Jeremiah ignored every one of them, slammed the building door open with his shoulder, and took the steps two at a time to reach their floor. He pounded on the door, praying someone was home, and when nobody was forthcoming, he kicked it, hard.

    The wood around the door latch splintered. With the next kick, the door gave, and Jeremiah rushed into the apartment.

    ¡°Delilah!¡± he bellowed, looking around frantically.

    The apartment was empty.

    Jeremiah swore and tried to collect his thoughts. Delilah kept her tonics in the Giant¡¯s Bag, if he held the one he needed clearly in his mind, it should give him the right one.

    He charged into Delilah and Allison¡¯s room. The Giant¡¯s Bag was sitting on Delilah¡¯s bed, and he hurried towards it. Then he noticed it was slightly open, and seemed to be emitting a thin line of vapor towards the open window. Jeremiah cursed again, re-secured Gus, and climbed into the bag.

    ¡°Delilah!¡± Jeremiah shouted again, as he floated. As he¡¯d suspected, Delilah was already below, working in a crammed laboratory. At his voice, she jumped and screeched in alarm.

    ¡°Jay! What¡¯s happening? Why are you¡ªoh no.¡±

    Jeremiah had reached the bottom of the cramped space and held Gus out towards her. Without another word, she took the toad¡¯s limp form from Jeremiah¡¯s hands into her own and set to work.

 Chapter 23. Presents

    Chapter 23. Presents

    There was barely any spare room to pace inside the Giant¡¯s Bag, filled as it was with laboratory equipment, but Jeremiah made do with shuffling back and forth until Delilah ordered him to stop. She worked with her back to him, hunching over her tiny patient and effectively blocking Jeremiah¡¯s view. He tried to distract himself by identifying the plentiful solutions and chemicals lining the shelves. It wasn¡¯t very effective.

    Time passed. Jeremiah wished he could at least make himself useful as an assistant, but Delilah moved too quickly for him to be anything but a hindrance. As the adrenaline wore off, the pain from the beating returned, and Jeremiah started to tremble. When he rubbed his arms and realized again that he was nearly naked, he decided to wait for Gus and Delilah outside the bag.

    Some new clothes helped somewhat with the shivering. Bruno and Allison still weren¡¯t back, so Jeremiah commenced pacing around the tiny apartment while he waited. It already felt so foreign to him, this warm and comfortable place he¡¯d lived with his friends, the fresh clothing that didn¡¯t stink of fish. He missed it.

    Delilah finally emerged from the bag, cradling Gus in her hands. ¡°He¡¯s going to be okay! I think. I¡¯m not an expert on toads.¡±

    A wave of relief and exhaustion washed over Jeremiah at her words. He sank to the floor right where he was. ¡°Oh, thank the Gods.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± said Delilah. She knelt to place Gus gently in Jeremiah¡¯s lap. ¡°He suffered extensive damage to his right hind leg. I¡¯ve set and splinted it as well as I could, but he may have some difficulty hopping.¡± She smiled as Gus nuzzled Jeremiah¡¯s hand. ¡°He¡¯s a very very tough little animal.¡±

    ¡°Delilah,¡± said Jeremiah, looking at her square with his good eye. ¡°Thank you so much. Seriously. I can never repay you for this.¡±

    Delilah¡¯s eyes widened in shock as she took in Jeremiah¡¯s appearance. ¡°I¡¯m just glad you got him here as soon as you did, things could have turned out much differently if you hadn¡¯t. Now let¡¯s take a look at you.¡±

    With Gus out of immediate danger, Jeremiah became aware of the pain harbored in his own body. Gentle as she was, everywhere Delilah touched seemed to highlight a new injury. ¡°Ribs are broken, collar bone too. Damage to the jaw and teeth, orbital bone is¡­¡± she prodded, eliciting a cry from Jeremiah, ¡°bruised but intact. Hematoma of the liver, spleen, kidneys. Follow my finger with your good eye¡­good. Ears are clear of spinal fluid, good. Somebody really did a number on you.¡±

    Jeremiah let his eyes close as she examined him, trying to keep his whimpers to a minimum. Gus was safe, and that was all that mattered.

    ¡°You¡¯ll need a speed healing tonic,¡± Delilah continued. ¡°I¡¯ll calculate a dose for Gus too. Go on, go lie down.¡±

    Jeremiah settled on his bed. Even with the unpleasantness of the healing tonic, he was looking forward to some real sleep in a real bed. Here, nobody would hassle him. He didn¡¯t have to jump at shadows, huddle under refuse for warmth, or worry about if the weather would turn.

    ¡°Here, I¡¯ll need to monitor you and run a few tests while you¡¯re healing. I need to make sure everything is settling back where it should,¡± said Delilah.

    He took the tonic she offered him and threw it back in a single gulp. At once, the alchemical fire began its steady march throughout his body.

    Delilah tucked Gus¡¯s water bowl on the floor beside Jeremiah¡¯s head. The last thing he saw before the fever and exhaustion overcame him was his beloved familiar, sleeping peacefully at last.

    Jeremiah awoke to even worse pain than he went to sleep with. His arms and legs were being restrained by two heavy weights, and Delilah was sitting on his chest with a delicate needle poised toward one of his eyes. The vision was milky and strange, like he could only half see her.

    ¡°Jay, I need to cut your eye back open so I can stitch it shut right. Otherwise it¡¯s going to heal wrong and you¡¯re going to lose the eye. I can¡¯t give you anesthetic while you¡¯re on the healing serum cause you¡¯ll die. It¡¯s going to be a bit uncomfortable, you¡¯re going to feel a bit of pressure,¡± said Delilah in a very calm, professional voice.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to be okay,¡± said Allison in a soft, nurturing tone, ¡°one more drop of pain in the vast ocean of life.¡± She was wrapped around Jeremiah¡¯s legs, holding them tightly together and putting all of her weight on them.

    ¡°Embrace the suck buddy,¡± said Bruno, ¡°this counts as your first tattoo.¡± Bruno was underneath and behind Jeremiah, holding his arms tightly behind his back.

    Calm and collected, Delilah pressed a small cloth sack against the wall next to the bed. Something burst inside and it began to emit bright light.

    Jeremiah, feverish and addled, finally realized what was about to happen as Delilah leaned down with the tiny needle in one hand.

    ¡°N-no!¡± he shouted, flexing every muscle he could to try and escape, but he was weak. Bruno and Allison had no problem holding him completely fast.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, it¡¯s okay,¡± said Delilah. She placed one hand on his head and forced it back, forcing the eyelid into an open state. ¡°Just a little pinch, we¡¯ll be done before you know it. It¡¯ll be faster and easier if you just hold still.¡±

    Jeremiah had never known how strong Delilah¡¯s hands were, but now he could feel the unexpected power in the pressure she exerted on him. His eye was forced open, the lid quivering in its struggle to close, his eye already pulsing with pain was now drying out as well.

    The needle came closer, growing larger and larger.

    ¡°Look to your right,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Get off me!¡± Jeremiah screamed.

    ¡°I don¡¯t  need  you to look to your right, but this will be faster and less painful if you do. Look to your right.¡± The needle weaved and bobbed, tracking some selected point for its first penetration. ¡°You can scream, you can yell, you can call me any horrible thing you want, but look to your right, up at the glowbag please.¡±

    ¡°This is your fault!¡± Jeremiah shouted at her, and he looked to the right.

    ¡°There we go, good job Jay, you¡¯re okay,¡± said Delilah. The needle got closer, then disappeared from view.

    Jeremiah spasmed in pain as something gently scratched his eye, then pressed, then something gave. Jeremiah could feel hot liquid running down his cheek. He kept his good eye on the glowing bag.

    Jeremiah screamed, loud and high. He cursed Delilah, he called her every name and hurtful insult he could think of as she deftly worked a whisper thick thread into his eyeball.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna throw up, I¡¯m gonna throw up,¡± Bruno kept saying over and over again, gagging at every thread pull.

    ¡°Kick as hard as you can Jay,¡± said Allison, ¡°Come on, struggle!¡± They encouraged him to do anything he wanted, anything he could, to distract himself.

    Jeremiah was, for a moment, back beneath Cutter. Helpless, powerless, and in incredible pain.

    It went on for an eternity, intolerable and unending.

    And then it lessened.

    ¡°Just a little cold,¡± said Delilah, and a cold liquid was squirted against Jeremiah¡¯s eye.

    ¡°You need to not touch your eye,¡± said Delilah, ¡°If you do you¡¯ll open your suture and we get to do this again.¡±

    Delilah¡¯s hand finally left Jeremiah¡¯s face, allowing him to close his eye at last. He could feel something on it, just behind the eyelid, something he wasn¡¯t allowed to touch or rub.

    Allison slowly let go of his legs, then backed away. Bruno whispered to Jeremiah, ¡°I¡¯m gonna let go okay? Take it easy.¡±

    Jeremiah was released and lay on the bed, feverish and exhausted. From the pounding headache, to the weakness, to pain in his eye and on every part of his body, he felt like he¡¯d never be able to rest again. But in time the exhaustion took him, and he slipped back into a throbbing painful rest.

    Jeremiah awoke feeling like he¡¯d been run over by a carriage. It was late morning, judging by the sun, and he could hear the voices of his friends from the other room.

    He bounded out of bed and regretted it immediately. His ribs ached, his guts burned, and his head pounded. Gus was still fast asleep in the water bowl. ¡°Keep resting, buddy,¡± Jeremiah said, and made his way more carefully out of the room.

    ¡°He lives!¡± said Bruno, as Jeremiah shuffled into the main room. ¡°Despite his best efforts, far as I can tell.¡±

    ¡°Hey Bruno,¡± said Jeremiah, lowering himself into a chair. There was a pot of something waiting in the hot embers of the fireplace that he was eager to investigate. ¡°New look, Al?¡±

    Allison was clad in city guard armor. Her unruly hair had been tightly braided across her scalp. She grinned, and gingerly touched her hair. ¡°Hurts like hell, but I kind of love how it looks.¡±

    Delilah gave Jeremiah another quick exam. ¡°Wiggle your jaw? Good. Open?¡± She peered inside his mouth. ¡°Ah. Hold still.¡±

    Before he could ask, she reached into his mouth and yanked out a molar, root and all. The extraction was accompanied by only a quick sting of pain.

    Bruno recoiled. ¡° Really?  Right here at the table?¡±

    ¡°Only one, not bad,¡± said Delilah. ¡°I¡¯ll give you something to keep it from getting infected. How are you feeling? What hurts?¡±

    ¡°Everything,¡± said Jeremiah impatiently. ¡°Can I eat now?¡±

    Allison set a bowl of stew before him. ¡°It¡¯s hot, eat it slow¡ªoh, or just drink the whole bowl, that¡¯s fine too.¡±

    Jeremiah reveled in the feeling of the food hitting his stomach. It was hot, rich, and salty. ¡°More.¡± Then after a moment¡¯s consideration, ¡°Please.¡±

    ¡°Nope, you¡¯ll have to wait a few hours first,¡± said Delilah. ¡°It¡¯s a special recipe for people who¡¯ve suffered malnutrition, but you can¡¯t eat too much at once.¡±

    ¡°While you¡¯re waiting, you should open your presents,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Huh?¡± Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. The gesture made his face hurt.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Bruno sighed. ¡°Thanks to Little Miss My-Mail-is-More-Important-Than-Op-Security, you got a package.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s ¡®Doctor¡¯ to you,¡± said Delilah.

    It turned out to be two packages. The first was large and bulky. He started to tear the packing paper, but soon stopped. He sensed something dreadful inside. ¡°Uh-oh. I think I know who this is from.¡±

    ¡°¡®Uh-oh?¡¯¡± asked Allison. ¡°Why ¡®uh-oh¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Okay, so it¡¯s sort of a tradition that when a mage freely gives a new rune, the recipient sends a gift in return,¡± said Jeremiah hurriedly. His hand still hovered over the paper.

    Delilah nodded, ¡°Alchemists have a tradition like that. Very common to send things to your¡­teachers¡­this is from Flusoh, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Jay what the hell is wrong with you?¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°He was my teacher! I couldn¡¯t send it to Thurok and not him,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Yes, you could have done that very thing,¡± said Allison. ¡°I don¡¯t care what that is, I want it gone.¡±

    ¡°One second,¡± said Jeremiah. What would Flusoh send? Something good? Something bad? Jeremiah hadn¡¯t the faintest guess. He tore the rest of the paper away in a single movement.

    It was a book. Its smooth black leather cover was embellished with gold. The edges of the pages were bright white, unblemished and unstained by use. The title, inscribed on the front, read  Flesh .

    ¡°Kill it,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Wait,¡± said Jeremiah. He cracked the book open, half expecting a blast of magical energy, but it was simple paper and pages. A quick flip through revealed dozens of highly detailed anatomical structures.

    ¡°I know some of these pictures,¡± said Delilah, ¡°I recognize them from medical school. They were in some of our texts, but not this detailed. Certainly not this many.¡±

    It was certainly a confusing gift. Jeremiah had already gone through extensive anatomical study with Flusoh. ¡°Is there something else?¡±

    Jeremiah opened to the back of the book, and a note fluttered to the ground.

    Jerry,

    When you¡¯re ready.

    -F

    The final page was different from the others. It was solid, paper-thin sheet of ivory.. Etched into it, rather than printed, were the diagrams, notes, guides, and everything else Jeremiah needed to perform a spell.

    ¡°It¡¯s a spell!¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Out!¡± Allison declared.

    No, no, no, wait, wait, wait!¡± said Jeremiah as Allison gripped the book. ¡°It''s a good text book, I don¡¯t need to learn the spell.¡±

    ¡°If you keep it, you will. That¡¯s how these things work Jay, it¡¯s why he sent it to you. Give it to me.¡±

    Jeremiah relented, and Allison wedged it within the pile of cooking coals. Jeremiah watched sadly as she stoked the embers into flames, and waited for the edges of those perfectly white pages to char and curl.

    They watched it for several minutes. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s working,¡± said Bruno.

    He was right. When Allison fished the book out of the flames, the book looked just as pristine as when Jeremiah had unwrapped it. Even the ash fell away without staining the cover.

    Allison frowned. She drew a dagger and slashed it across the word  Flesh.  The blade left no mark on the book, nor on any of the paper pages. ¡°What is going on here?¡±

    Bruno and Delilah gathered around now. Without asking, Bruno took out a small metal file and scratched at a tiny section of the cover. Nothing. Delilah got a bottle of a clear liquid from her Giant¡¯s Bag and poured it on a random page, the liquid slid off onto the table where it hissed and bubbled. She then tried a rubber eraser, but the text and imagery was unmarred.

    Allison had lost the look of frustration, and now rested her chin in her hand in quiet contemplation, along with the rest of them.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got some diamond tipped cutting tools, let me get those,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Yeah let me get some stronger stuff,¡± said Delilah.

    For an hour more, all four of them tried everything they could think of to destroy the book, and slowly devolved to even trying to cause a page to crease. But try everything they might, the book could not be altered or damaged in any way.

    Delilah stood by an open window, wafting fumes out from her latest acid attempt, ¡°Green slime jelly is the strongest acid I¡¯ve got. If that¡¯s not doing anything I¡¯m out of ideas.¡±

    ¡°Nothing,¡± said Jeremiah looking at the book. ¡°But you¡¯re going to need a new table.¡± The various acids had eaten holes in most of it.

    ¡°Any guesses?¡± asked Bruno. He was frowning at his failed diamond tipped drill.

    ¡°Only one, it¡¯s an artifact,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± asked Allison, she glared at the book suspiciously.

    ¡°You know how we can use magic runes and words to affect the world? And that those words are part of an ancient language? An artifact is when someone who knows a significant amount of that language speaks an object into existence.¡±

    ¡°Like, they just describe it and it appears?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°Yeah, they talk it into the world. And if you¡¯re going to go through all the trouble of speaking an artifact, and I assure you it¡¯s a  lot  of trouble, you¡¯re going to make sure it¡¯s indestructible.¡±

    Allison contemplated the book for a long moment. ¡°I think I''ll hang onto it for you, then.¡±

    ¡°I guess that''s fine,¡± said Jeremiah. After all, he didn¡¯t intend to use necromancy again. Well,  again  again. What use would he have for it? Whatever secrets it held would be of no use to him. And he had no interest in learning them. He wasn¡¯t curious about that spell. Or the detailed diagrams. Or the notes in the margins. Or even in reading the entire book in one night.

    Allison disappeared into her room with the book, and Jeremiah turned his attention to the other package. This one was much smaller and lighter, but Jeremiah had an inkling of the sender. He eagerly ripped the package open.

    The package contained a square of metal. It had strange ridges on it, like it had been folded into this shape. Tiny engravings spiderwebbing across the metal.

    ¡°It looks kind of like an enchanting plate,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°But why would Thurok¡­Oh!¡±

    Jeremiah set the plate on the ground and gestured for the others to make room. Placing his hands on the runes, he spoke the words of enchanting. The lines on the plate hummed to life with a brilliant cerulean blue glow. Jeremiah''s head swam, but managed to stay upright.

    When the plate reached capacity, he pulled away to see what would happen. But the plate just sat there, the glow fading.

    ¡°Well?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°I hope this isn¡¯t a test¡­he would do that, too.¡± He moved to pick up the plate and it rumpled.

    Jeremiah froze, the metal still bunched up around his outstretched fingers. ¡°What the hell¡­¡±

    The others gathered around. Jeremiah pinched the metal. It felt soft as silk in his fingers. He lifted it, and the metal unfolded like a garment.

    ¡°It''s...a shirt?¡± asked Bruno.

    Bruno was right. The plate had transformed into a slim tunic with long tapered sleeves. Jeremiah pulled the garment over his head. The shirt was cold and shimmered like metal, but light and flexible as cotton. It clung to his body, moving when he moved. It fit him perfectly.

    ¡°It¡¯s armor. He used my rune to make flexible metal armor!¡± said Jeremiah. The craftsmanship was incredible. He swung his arms around, completely uninhibited. Casting would be no problem while wearing this.

    After some experimentation, they discovered the armor had been reinforced, much like Allison¡¯s full plate. Slashing it did nothing and stabbing weapons were diminished to an uncomfortable pressure, however it only softened the blow of a bludgeoning weapon.

    Jeremiah got up off the ground, clutching his stomach. ¡°Okay, still going to try to avoid taking a mace to the guts.¡±

    ¡°This is absurd,¡± said Delilah, ¡°you can¡¯t just change the physical properties of a material like that.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s literally what enchanting does,¡± said Jeremiah. He waved his arms around again, admiring the freedom. ¡°I can wear this under my regular clothes, and nobody will know. This is perfect for being out on the streets.¡±

    An uncomfortable silence followed Jeremiah¡¯s proclamation. He stopped waving his arms and turned to his friends. ¡°What?¡±

    The others exchanged a glance before Delilah spoke. ¡°We¡¯re just surprised to hear you¡¯re planning to go back out there,¡± she said kindly.

    ¡°Yeah, especially because you¡¯ve made no progress in two weeks besides getting yourself beat to absolute hell,¡± said Bruno, less kindly.

    Jeremiah gaped at them. ¡°I¡¯m figuring it out! I¡¯ve got a plan and everything. This was just a minor setback.¡±

    Allison crossed her arms. ¡°Nearly killed is not a minor setback.¡±

    ¡°But nothing¡¯s changed!¡± Jeremiah said. ¡°I¡¯m still the best hope we have of getting out from under this conspiracy. I just need more time!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been investigating the murders from some other angles, actually,¡± said Delilah. ¡°That''s why Allison''s got the uniform.¡±

    ¡°It makes it easy to get around and keep an eye on things,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Oh,¡± said Jeremiah. It made sense that his friends were doing things without him. It made perfect sense and it made him feel horribly lonely.

    ¡°We suspect this cult draws membership from the lower classes but is run by people higher up,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°And we are trying to find out who those people might be,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°There¡¯s more to it than that, though,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°This isn¡¯t just a typical cult. Like what Bruno said, you can feel it when you¡¯re living out there. You need me.¡±

    ¡°No, we don¡¯t,¡± said Allison, ¡°It¡¯s not worth the risk.¡±

    Jeremiah turned towards Bruno. ¡°Do you agree with this?¡±

    Bruno shifted on his feet. ¡°We¡¯re gambling with your life, and the payout¡¯s probably not great, Jay.¡±

    Jeremiah looked from face to face and forced a smile. ¡°Fine. That¡¯s just fine. Glad I won¡¯t have to deal with that anymore. Can I have more soup yet?¡±

    The apartment was empty. Allison had left for patrol, Bruno had disappeared to who knows where, and Delilah was working inside the Giant¡¯s Bag. ¡°See? She¡¯s doing something reckless and dangerous, and nobody cares,¡± he grumbled to Gus. Gus peeped in agreement from his bowl.

    Jeremiah pulled his new armored shirt over his head and layered a normal tunic over it. The metal still carried a chill that ran down his spine, but it felt like cold silk. He pocketed some new lockpicks and an enchanting file and made for the window.

    Gus peeped again.

    ¡°Sorry, buddy, this adventure isn¡¯t for you.¡± Jeremiah stroked Gus between the eyes. He turned back towards the window to plan his descent.

    A splash from behind. Jeremiah hadn¡¯t realized Gus was capable of indignant hopping, but that¡¯s exactly what he saw in the toad making its way towards him. Gus¡¯s bad leg still stuck out at a strange angle as he jumped, but he was making his point clear enough.

    Jeremiah sighed. ¡°Yeah, I hear it. You don¡¯t like being told you can¡¯t-¡±

    Gus made a loud raspy belching croak

    ¡°No, I¡¯m agreeing with you! You¡¯re right¡ªif I need to do this, your place is right there with me.¡± He tucked Gus into his shirt pocket, where, for better or worse, the familiar belonged. Then he climbed through the window and, with a series of maneuvers he thought might make Bruno proud, he disappeared into the night.

 Chapter 24. Carrots and Sticks

    Chapter 24. Carrots and Sticks

    ¡°Okay, buddy, so I exaggerated a little about having a plan. Big deal.¡± Near dusk, Jeremiah had made his way up onto the rooftops near Prim¡¯s. ¡°Once I improvise this part, we¡¯ll be set. Oh, and the part where I convince Pete to do what I tell him. But after that, we¡¯re set.¡±

    Jeremiah peered down into Cutter¡¯s lot. The winding alleys below concealed just how near they had been to Prim¡¯s, and he had a great view of everybody. From here, the gang of junkies looked utterly small and unthreatening, but Jeremiah¡¯s heart still raced when he recognized Cutter among them. ¡° We¡¯re just gonna watch ,¡± he reminded himself. ¡° No need to go down there .¡±

    Pete was Jeremiah¡¯s goal, but he needed a way to find him. Someone in Cutter¡¯s gang was the key. Pete had known what had happened to Jeremiah, and had known where to find him just a few minutes after it had happened. Someone must have tipped him off, Jeremiah reasoned, someone who had a deal worked out with Pete to let him know when a poor, vulnerable soul was at their lowest. And that someone was likely among those thugs, drinking and lounging and gambling below.

    What would Pete¡¯s informant look like? Jeremiah tried to imagine them. He would have to be relay information, so sober enough to be coherent. He may have a little extra coin from the deal compared to his associates, which meant he¡¯d have to be that much smarter to hide it from Cutter.

    Jeremiah inspected the men arrayed before him. He could write off entire swaths of them, the ones too addled to even raise their heads. But among the others¡­He observed them carefully, noting who won the most games of dice and who did the least showboating. There was no clear candidate yet.

    As the night wore on, the temperature dropped. Jeremiah shivered on his rooftop, longing for the relative protection of the alleys and wishing Thurok had thought to line his armor shirt with something warmer. Then he got lucky.

    It was an older man this time, who was dragged into the lot. Jeremiah was too distant to hear what the voices were saying, but he recognized the script just fine. Anger, threats, excitement from the gang members. That same violent glee from Cutter.

    Jeremiah''s breath froze in his chest as he watched the scene play out. The man screamed, his voice echoing futilely into the night. Jeremiah wanted to leap down and rescue him, be the savior he¡¯d longed for. He also wanted to flee in the other direction, to run out of Elminia altogether, to hide where Cutter could never find him. Instead he stayed rooted in place, sick to his stomach.

    The gang members laughed and praised Cutter for his cruelty while the man sobbed. They cheered every cry of pain, took their opportunities to elicit their own, celebrated their own good fortune.

    Jeremiah hated himself for letting it happen. He was letting an innocent man undergo exactly what had been done to him, because he could learn from it. He was no hero. All those fantasies of adventure he¡¯d had as a kid had come to this¡ªwatching an act of savagery from afar, one he could have prevented, or at least helped. But no. He was letting it happen. He was no better than all those people who had stood by while Cutter beat him in broad daylight.

    In fact, he was worse¡ªhe had magic and training and could actually fight these men, especially with surprise on his side. And still, he did nothing.

    The man was turned loose, and like Jeremiah had, he fled. The gang members jeered him briefly, then turned back to their game and drink. The gang settled back into the exact same state that Jeremiah had already watched for several hours.

    Almost. After a few minutes, one of the drinkers stood to stretch. He sauntered away from the lot, pissed against the wall they all used, but instead of returning to his friends, he carried on down another side street.

    Jeremiah slipped after him. The man was making no attempt to hide his progress, cutting a slightly wobbly path while he whistled to himself, and Jeremiah had time to make his way carefully down to street level without losing him.

    The man¡¯s awareness was garbage, Jeremiah realized. He followed along at a distance, sticking to shadows as Bruno had taught him, but he was sure he could have tailed him simply by following him down the middle of street without drawing the man¡¯s attention.

    As they drew nearer to a main street, Jeremiah worried he risked losing the man in the night crowd, and hurried to close the distance. Thankfully, though the man turned at a tavern on the corner, The Ample Room, and popped inside.

    Jeremiah hid himself among some trash piles and waited. Cutter¡¯s man left after only a few minutes, a new bounce in his step. Jeremiah imagined he could hear the jingle of fresh coin in his pocket. A few minutes later, the tavern door opened again and Pete stepped out, still saying his goodbyes to someone inside.

    Jeremiah nearly emerged from his hiding spot right then and there, but something stopped him. The only reason Jeremiah still had use of his thumb was because Pete had been there. The only reason he hadn¡¯t been defeated entirely by Elminia that night was because Pete had rescued him. He had already allowed a man to suffer grievously in the name of his mission¡ªhe couldn¡¯t also rob him of the closest thing to salvation this city had to offer.

    Pete walked by, every bit as put together as Jeremiah remembered, and Jeremiah kept himself hidden. Now that he knew where to find Pete, he could enact the next stage of his plan whenever he was ready. In fact, he thought as he dusted himself off, he had accomplished something noteworthy and useful tonight. He should feel great!

    Too bad all he felt was a terrible knot of guilt twisting deep in his gut.

    Jeremiah followed a path that took him far from Cutter¡¯s lot and found his favorite alley spot. It was at the end of the guard¡¯s patrol, so he was only roused a couple of times each night, and often could skip the early morning one if the guards got lazy.

    He laid his head on a pile of dirty rags that he¡¯d squirreled away as a pillow, and was annoyed when his head hit something hard. Unwrapping the pile layer by filthy layer, he soon discovered the source of his discomfort.

    A black book with gold bindings.  Flesh.

    ¡°Uh-oh,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ?

    ?

    ?

    Flesh  proved impossible to be rid of. It might take minutes or hours, but no matter where he left it, eventually the book would reappear within arms reach. The only reprieve was when Jeremiah would place it somewhere with the intention of retrieving it. In those moments, the book seemed to understand and would wait patiently for him. However, if Jeremiah thought for a second he might finally be rid of it, it would immediately return to him.

    Jeremiah put the nuisance of the book from his mind and reminded himself to focus on the mission. He needed to learn about the cult so Empress Aubrianna would put a stop to the conspiracy working to undo his friends¡¯ lives. The cult was recruiting from the lower classes, that¡¯s what Delilah had said. That¡¯s why he was out on the streets, to see what could be learned from here. Only it wasn¡¯t like people were just handing out pamphlets about murder cults on street corners, he had to become one of them¡ªsomeone valuable enough to be recruited. And to survive long enough to do that, to make enough of a name for himself to earn the right kind of attention, he needed a crew.

    That¡¯s where Pete came in. Jeremiah knew Pete had the connections he needed, but what he didn¡¯t know was how to convince Pete he was worth connecting. After spending all day wracking his brain to come up a strategy, he¡¯d realized two things¡ªfirst, Pete understood how this world worked far better than Jeremiah did, and second, Jeremiah had no leverage whatsoever. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    But neither of those things was changing anytime soon, and Jeremiah couldn¡¯t wait around for a better opportunity, so here he was waiting outside The Ample Room for Pete to arrive.

    He didn¡¯t have to wait long. Pete turned up at suppertime, opened the doors like he owned the place, and disappeared inside. Jeremiah forced himself to wait ten minutes, then hurried after him.

    Jeremiah reminded himself he had as much right to be there as anyone as heads turned at his entrance. He spotted Pete alone in the far corner, with a liqueur in hand and meat pie untouched in front of him. He also spotted the barman heading towards his way with a familiar glint in his eye that suggested Jeremiah was about to find his way back out of the establishment.

    ¡°Hello, Pete!¡± Jeremiah called, waving his hand enthusiastically, as though greeting a long-lost friend.

    To his relief, Pete¡¯s confusion was quickly covered by a graceful smile, and he returned Jeremiah¡¯s wave. The barkeep harrumphed but returned to his post.

    ¡°Jay! Wonderful to see you, my lad, simply splendid,¡± said Pete. He stood to move Jeremiah¡¯s chair as though he were buttling a fancy dinner. ¡°What happened to your face? Oh, please excuse my impudence, you must be famished.¡±

    Pete placed the meat pie before Jeremiah as though it had been procured specially for him. The rich scents made Jeremiah¡¯s mouth water, but he resisted¡ªsomething told him giving in to the urge to devour the pie would lose any advantage over Pete he had.

    Instead he said, ¡°I¡¯m looking for work as a second-story man.¡±

    ¡°Charming.¡± Pete sipped his liqueur, ¡°go on.¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯m not looking for any old work,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Oh, no?¡± said Pete.

    ¡°Not picking pockets and snatching purses. Real work. Heists and the like. Proper second story work,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°I see,¡± said Pete.

    ¡°And I uh¡­I want to work with an established gang,¡± said Jeremiah. Pete was starting to pay more attention to the liqueur than to him.

    ¡°Naturally,¡± said Pete. ¡°Well, lad, there¡¯s a plethora of options for someone of your skill set. I¡¯d be happy to make some introductions of course. If we¡¯re on the understanding that I may request your services at a later time, regardless of circumstances.¡±

    This wasn¡¯t going as Jeremiah had hoped. Pete had no reason to take a risk on him. All too easily, he saw himself being handed off to the lowest rung cutthroat gang to wallow in apartment break-ins and petty theft.

    He couldn¡¯t just be another nobody in Pete¡¯s pocket. He had to prove he mattered.

    ¡°So show him who''s boss,¡±  said Allison.

    ¡°No magic,¡±  said Bruno.

    ¡°No excuses,¡±  thought Jeremiah.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be honest with you, Pete,¡± said Jeremiah, making his voice as cold as he could. ¡°I could kill you stone dead at this very table with a single word.¡±

    Pete¡¯s smile didn¡¯t falter, but his eyes hardened. ¡°That¡¯s quite the statement, lad.¡±

    ¡°Shh, shh. Just watch now,¡± said Jeremiah. He set the tip of his dinner knife into the table. With a few quick drags, he carved the enchantment rune for And into the wood of the table. It was a simple rune that did nothing on its own, but it was all he needed. He placed his hand on the rune, murmured a few words, and the rune glowed a soft azure blue, nothing more.

    Pete¡¯s facade of polite gentry fractured as he watched Jeremiah perform magic.  ¡°Bet you didn¡¯t see this coming, you slippery bastard.¡±  A lifetime of struggle against society¡¯s ignorance of magic, and suddenly it was his greatest weapon.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to tell you what I want, and you¡¯re going to help me get it,¡± said Jeremiah, in a low, even voice. ¡°I¡¯ll take no for an answer, but you won¡¯t live to see the end of the O.¡±

    As quickly as Pete¡¯s courteous demeanor had broken, it returned. ¡°Perhaps you and I have had a misunderstanding, Jay.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps we have. Allow me to clarify the situation. I¡¯m a second story man from Shabad. I¡¯m very good at my job. Here I am in Elminia, looking for a nice strong gang to put my skills to good use. With me so far?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I understand completely,¡± said Pete.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s working!¡±  thought Jeremiah. ¡°I¡¯m looking for a position of opportunity,¡± he said. ¡°A chance to build my reputation and be noticed by the right kind of people. Do you understand?¡±

    ¡°Dear lad, you must realize¡ª¡±

    Delilah was in Jeremiah¡¯s ear.  ¡°Maintain control of the conversation. You asked a question, he will answer it.¡±

    ¡°Do. You. Understand,¡± Jeremiah said.

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Pete. He swallowed hard.

    ¡°Fantastic,¡± said Jeremiah. He finally turned his attention to the pie. Every time he thought Pete was going to talk, Jeremiah shot him a sharp look and he quieted. There was something delightful in watching Pete squirm.

    When he was finished eating, Jeremiah wiped his mouth on a napkin and enacted a stroke of genius that had come to him between bites. ¡°Give me your hand, Peter,¡±

    Pete didn¡¯t move. The blood drained from his face.

    ¡°You can give it to me and keep it, or I can take it from you and leave with it,¡± said Jeremiah. He had no idea what that threat meant, but it did the job. Pete extended a quivering hand across the table. Jeremiah took Pete¡¯s hand and dragged the tip of the knife across the back of it. He didn¡¯t press hard enough to break the skin, but left a white trail, which became a rune. The rune was Pause, which was meaningless on its own, but Jeremiah bet that to Pete, it would be mysterious and frightening.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to take a little walk to the Pit, Peter. You¡¯re going to introduce me to someone of importance. You¡¯re going to recommend me highly. You¡¯re not going to mention what you saw here. Peter, shall I tell you why you¡¯re going to do all this?¡±

    Pete stared at him, wide-eyed and silent.  ¡°Good boy¡±,  thought Jeremiah.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to do this because I¡¯ve placed a rune on your hand. And if I find the opportunity you provide me lacking, then I will simply cast a little spell, and, no matter where you are, no matter what precautions you take, your hand will detach from your body and kill you. Maybe it¡¯ll throttle you. Maybe it¡¯ll stab you. That part is up to the hand. Look at your hand, Peter, what does that rune say?¡±

    Jeremiah raised his eyebrows, indicating Pete could answer. ¡°I-I don¡¯t know,¡± he said. His voice was a faint whisper.

    ¡°Pure fear breeds contempt,¡±  said Bruno.  ¡°Show him the carrot.¡±

    ¡°I know you don¡¯t, Peter. I know you don¡¯t,¡± Jeremiah gave Pete¡¯s hand a little pat and sat back in his chair. ¡°But it¡¯s not all bad news! My little skill is going to make me very useful to the person I work with, and they are going to be  very  grateful to you for introducing us. I think favors will be owed, Peter, I think I¡¯ll insist that favors be owed to the kindly man who helped me,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°I still owe you a favor, too, isn¡¯t that right? And the higher I rise, the more valuable my favor will become. Doesn¡¯t that sound nice?¡±

    ¡°That¡­sounds lovely,¡± said Pete.

    ¡°Thanks for dinner, really,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Now, whenever you¡¯re feeling up to it, I say we should enjoy a nice evening stroll.¡±

 Chapter 25. Leverage

    Chapter 25. Leverage

    The Pit, true to its name, was a massive hole in the ground with long, sloping sides. It was  towards what once had been the outskirts of Elminia, but as the city expanded beyond its original footprint, the Pit came to be surrounded by slums¡ªcramped, tiny buildings, squeezing tightly together to avoid tumbling over its edge.

    ¡°Twas a mining pit in years long since past,¡± said Pete. ¡°If it¡¯s said that Elminia has an infection, the Pit is the wound that delivered it.¡± He had relaxed somewhat during their walk from The Ample Room, testing the waters with snippets of conversation, though he did keep rubbing the back of his hand.

    Jeremiah and Pete stood at the end of a narrow street of the slum, gazing down into the Pit that was somehow worse. The sides were crusted with dilapidated hovels, built thoughtlessly over one another like the scales of a scab and blackened with soot that grew thicker towards the depths of the center. The sheer density of smoke and fires gave it a hellish appearance.

    Yet at the Pit¡¯s center stood a stark oddity¡ªan ornate mansion with a burnished gold roof gleaming in the light of the moon, seemingly exempt from the choking ash and plague of degradation.

    Jeremiah fought to conceal his awe from Pete. He feared he was already losing his advantage over the other man as they entered a situation in which he was completely inexperienced.

    They began to descend into the Pit. There were no roads, any space that had been used by the ancient miners for transit had long since been overbuilt. Jeremiah and Pete picked their way between the haphazard buildings, trying to avoid the more disgusting hazards. Refuse was everywhere, especially near the edge, where the inhabitants of the slums above added their own waste.

    Many hovels were outright destroyed, great piles of burned rubble left to rot where they fell. Through the splintered timbers and pulverized bricks of one, Jeremiah could see little flickers of firelight. People were still living in the rubble.

    Pete followed his gaze. ¡°Not much to be said for safe constructions here, I¡¯m afraid. Landslides are not uncommon. One building knocks down another, which knocks down another and another, all the way to the bottom. Then all the rubble gets turned into new buildings. Nothing goes to waste in the Pit.¡±

    Jeremiah sidestepped a pool of putrid food waste only to land his foot in human excrement instead. ¡°Why do people live here?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s not much in the way of ¡®rule of law¡¯ down here,¡± said Pete. ¡°No guards to make a bother of those sleeping rough, or theft. Or murder, for that matter. There is a freedom here rarely afforded in what one might call, more civilized society, and I daresay the denizens of the Pit do enjoy their freedoms. Access to urban niceties paired with being beyond the reach of the law has given rise to a number of neighborhood community organizations.¡±

    The denizens Pete referred to eyed them hungrily as they passed. While Pete certainly looked out of place in his finery, he carried himself as though he hadn¡¯t a thing to worry about, and indeed the gaze of any would-be muggers seemed to linger on Jeremiah instead. He sensed that if Pete were to disappear on him, his evening stroll would meet a swift and violent end.

    Pete was speaking more freely now. He seemed aware that their environment had shifted control of the situation back in his favor. ¡°I¡¯ve been giving some thought to the right place for you, lad. You don¡¯t seem like a good fit for The Bricks, unless you¡¯re interested in smash-and-grab and protection work?¡± Jeremiah shook his head. ¡°I suspected not. There¡¯s also The Simmering Idiots¡ªthey¡¯re into narcotics and distribution. Quite large, friendly to the small stature races, as well, but of course not as much opportunity for a second-story man, is there?¡±

    Bruno had coached Jeremiah extensively on the type of group he needed to join. Gangs that were too large and established wouldn¡¯t need whatever boons were offered by working alongside a cult. Too small, and they wouldn¡¯t have the reach to get noticed by one. He needed a gang that was growing and ambitious, one what would welcome and reward a new highly-skilled member.

    Pete continued his rundown. ¡°The Men of Night have been making waves recently, if assassinations aren¡¯t something you object to¡­¡±

    ¡°Not at all your skill set,¡±  said Bruno.  ¡°You¡¯d be a miserable assassin.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather not, hardly any challenge in it,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Look Jay, I¡¯m a busy man. Why don¡¯t you tell me more about what you¡¯re looking for?¡±

    Jeremiah heard the challenge in Pete¡¯s words. He needed Pete¡¯s help, but he needed Pete¡¯s fear and respect too. ¡°I¡¯ll already told you¡ªI¡¯m looking for a chance to be noticed by the  right kind of people . And you stand to gain from this as well. You do realize that, right Peter?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Pete, and I-¡±

    ¡°Peter. I asked you a question.¡± Jeremiah stopped and glared at him. ¡° Know your place ,¡± thought Jeremiah. ¡° If I say your name is Peter, then it¡¯s Peter. ¡±

    Pete gave him a practiced smile, ¡°Jay, my lad, I¡¯m going to make use of you one way or another. Don¡¯t you worry about ol¡¯ Pete, I¡¯ve got big plans for you.¡±

    The feeling of threat had suddenly shifted. Jeremiah tried to regain composure. ¡°Peter, you know my request. Any opportunities that will keep me happy?¡±

    Jeremiah noted with satisfaction that Pete unconsciously rubbed the back of his hand again. ¡°As a matter of fact, I do indeed have a thought, and if you agree, we can make our way to meet their boss immediately. I can tell you value your time as much as I do.¡±

    Jeremiah nodded for him to continue.

    ¡°They¡¯re called the Stonefists, and they dabble in just about everything¡ªtheft, narcotics, intimidation. Their leader, Monty, is always on the lookout for the next foothold upwards. I suspect he will take a great interest in a young lad like yourself, especially on the back of such a glowing recommendation as I am happy to provide.¡±

    ¡° Always looking for ways to move up, huh ?¡± thought Jeremiah. It sounded like Monty was exactly the kind of person he was looking for.¡°Sounds like a winner. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Pete chuckled. ¡°I do warn you, lad, one does not simply step into such an organization. There is decorum that must be maintained. Initiation rights, you understand. Even with my heartiest support, you should consider them quite dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Peter,¡± Jeremiah put a hand on Pete¡¯s shoulder, ¡°you¡¯re talking to the most dangerous man you¡¯ve ever known.¡± Jeremiah was bluffing, but he also wasn¡¯t sure he was wrong.

    In the Pit there was a hole, and in that hole there was a stair, and down those stairs was a door, and through that door was Jeremiah''s destination. Pete led him through an ugly state of affairs to reach this point, and it appeared things were only going to get uglier. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    Pete rapped on the door, and a tiny slider opened. ¡°Pete,¡± said the eyes behind the door.

    ¡°Evening, Mardok,¡± said Pete. ¡°I am here to speak with Monty, and to introduce him to a sterling young man who has recently arrived in our great city.¡± He clapped a hand on Jeremiah¡¯s shoulder.

    The eyes behind the door closed, and Jeremiah heard a sigh, ¡°Pete, after last time I¡¯m not sure if¡­it¡¯s just that¡­¡±

    Pete held perfectly still, not letting his gaze or smile fall away. Jeremiah could feel a tension in Pete¡¯s hand. He sensed neither anticipation nor fear. Was it rage?

    ¡°You know what, it¡¯s fine,¡± said the voice. ¡°Come on in.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll find my name opens many doors,¡± whispered Pete.

    ¡°Reluctantly opened is still open, I suppose,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Indeed it is, lad,¡± said Pete, leading the way inside.

    The Stormfists¡¯ headquarters was stiflingly hot and reeked of cheap tobacco. The room was too small for the large cookfire at its heart, and the narrow ventilation shaft in the ceiling left a heady smoke to cloud the low ceiling. Surrounding the cooking area, which was cluttered with bubbling iron pots, was the body proper of The Stonefists¡ªan amalgamation of races and demeanors, each turning to regard Pete and Jeremiah as they passed.

    ¡°Hey, Pete.¡±

    ¡°Whose the new meat?¡±

    ¡°The hell you looking at?¡±

    ¡°¡®Sup, Pete.¡±

    ¡°Keep walking, little man.¡±

    They descended further yet, a set of stairs hidden in a dark corner. Each board they stepped on begged for mercy.

    At the bottom of the stairs was a narrow tunnel that Jeremiah and Pete had to stoop to traverse. Several doors led off it, but Pete led Jay confidently to one in particular. ¡°No shoes,¡± he said, removing his own and setting them outside the door.

    Jeremiah followed suit and waited as Pete knocked, trying to feel dignified and confident while hunched barefoot in a dark tunnel.

    A voice bade them enter. Illuminated by a single candle, a dwarf awaited them behind a desk. Jeremiah¡¯s first impression was that he looked like a businessman. His hair and beard were jet black, with the latter trimmed to end in a perfect point, highly waxed and stiff. He wore a simple gray tunic.

    The image was ruined, however, by the dwarf¡¯s immense hands. There were easily twice the width of Jeremiah¡¯s own, with forearms to match. They were folded politely on the desk, but to Jeremiah they promised a capacity for violence that made him suppress a shudder.

    ¡°Sit,¡± said Monty. His voice was soft, deep, and surprisingly delicate.

    Jeremiah looked about, but there were no chairs in the room. The tiny candle did not illuminate far enough to see the walls, and he could sense more space beyond his vision.

    ¡°I said, sit,¡± said Monty.

    Looking to Pete for guidance, Jeremiah found him already seated cross-legged on the floor. He quickly followed suit.

    Pete cleared his throat. ¡°Thank you for meeting with us, Monty, on this most auspicious of days. I have brought along a young man whose introduction to you I believe will be of mutual benefit. He is a lad of extraordinary talent and pedigree.¡±

    ¡°Quite the claim coming from you, Pete,¡± said Monty. ¡°Who else has he met?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the first. I knew you of all people would be most discerning over such a find,¡± said Pete.

    Monty turned his attention to Jeremiah. ¡°What am I supposed to do with you?¡± His voice was eerily smooth and patient, never wavering.

    Jeremiah breathed evenly to try to control his nerves. ¡°My name is Jay. I¡¯m a second-story man out of Shabad and I¡¯m looking to get back at it.¡±

    ¡°Why are you here and not there?¡± asked Monty.

    ¡°Ran afoul of some killers,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Nice and vague, less is more,¡±  said Bruno.

    ¡°Why¡¯d you bring him to me,¡± asked Monty, turning back to Pete. ¡°There¡¯s no shortage of second-story men who are not lying about their origins.¡±

    Jeremiah stared at him. ¡°I¡¯m not lying!¡±

    Monty stood. He made almost no sound as he walked around his desk and stood before Jeremiah. With both incredibly large hands, he gripped Jeremiah¡¯s arm, easily closing around the entire limb. ¡°Tell me the truth.¡±

    Jeremiah instinctively yanked his arm as Monty¡¯s hands tightened like a python¡¯s coils. ¡°Let me go!¡±

    ¡°Last chance. Tell me the truth or I squeeze till the tips of your fingers burst,¡± said Monty. Still smooth, still delicate. Jeremiah could feel monstrous strength in Monty¡¯s hands, the pressure squeezing his bones and ramping up. There was a pulsing ache in his fingers.

    Jeremiah looked to Pete, his heart pounding, but Pete just watched with polite interest. He had to act. He could still cast acid with one hand, he could lob it into Monty¡¯s face. Or the gas, he could¡ª

    ¡°Be strong,¡±  said Allison.

    Jeremiah glared into Monty¡¯s deep, green eyes. They were flecked with blue starlets and looked almost gentle. ¡°Do it then!¡± The words came out of nowhere.¡°Either believe me or don¡¯t, I don¡¯t give a shit, but finish up so I can go get paid somewhere else.¡±

    Monty didn¡¯t so much as blink. The grip loosened. ¡°The Stonefists are organized in cells of four members and subordinates, which do whatever cell members say. You will be a subordinate. Put in the time, impress us, and maybe you¡¯ll be selected to join a cell. Then, and only then, will you be a Stonefist.¡± He returned to his desk and refolded his hands.

    ¡°Press,¡±  said Delilah.

    ¡°Not good enough,¡± said Jeremiah. The candle flame guttered.

    ¡°I¡¯ll let you try that again,¡± said Monty calmly. Pete subtly shifted away from Jeremiah.

    ¡°Sir, I was the best second story man in Shabad. The best.¡¯'' He fixed Monty with a hard glare. ¡°Put me in a cell or I walk.¡±

    ¡°If I may,¡± said Pete. He waited until Monty nodded to continue. ¡°I have confidence in the boy¡¯s talents, but I understand you cannot simply take my word for it. Set him a test to earn his place. In the extremely unlikely event that he falls short of your expectations, I withdraw any protections my association lends, and you may do with him what you will.¡±

    Jermeiah tore his gaze from Monty to stare incredulously at Pete. Somehow the man had created himself a no-lose situation¡ªeither Jeremiah succeeded and Pete had fulfilled his end of the deal, or, Jeremiah failed and would be conveniently finished off by someone else, removing him as a threat entirely.

    For the first time since they entered the room, Monty appeared to be thinking. He leaned back in his chair and worked the point of his beard between his massive fingers, making sure it was perfectly neat. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a chance,¡± he said, finally, ¡°but I¡¯m not wasting a potential heist target on you yet. Bring me one gold.¡±

    ¡°Easy,¡± scoffed Jeremiah. One gold was a ludicrous amount of money to beg, borrow, or earn, but surely it wouldn¡¯t be that hard to steal. This was very good.

    ¡°You have one hour to bring me the money,¡± said Monty.

    This was now very bad. ¡°One hour?¡± exclaimed Jeremiah.

    ¡°Raise your voice again and it¡¯ll be thirty minutes. Should you fail to place a gold on my desk by the end of the hour, I will put out a hit on you. Your time began when you walked into this room.¡±

    Monty set an hourglass on his desk and, sure enough, the grains of sand within were already falling.

 Chapter 26. Old Friends

    Chapter 26. Old Friends

    ¡°One hour? I haven''t earned so much as half a silver in weeks!¡± Jeremiah kicked the closed door of the Stonefists headquarters in frustration.

    Pete brushed himself off. ¡°Quite the pickle, that.¡±

    ¡°Pete! Pete, can you spare me a gold?¡±

    ¡°Hah!¡± Pete barked a laugh, but a strange one, in a voice Jeremiah hadn''t heard before. The voice was gone as quick as it came. ¡°I wish you luck, Jay, I truly do.¡±

    Jeremiah calmed himself,  ¡°This is no problem, he thought, I can run home and get¡­¡±

    Run home.

    Run home and ask to be saved.

    Run home and prove I am worthless.

    ¡°Pete, maybe you can help me.¡± Jeremiah chased Pete up the stairs. ¡°I just need a target, someplace nearby.¡±

    ¡°I believe my help is thoroughly exhausted. Now, I have some business to attend to, if you¡¯ll excuse me.¡± He turned to leave.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Jeremiah caught Pete¡¯s wrist. We¡¯ll split the take, how about that?¡±

    ¡°A most generous offer, Jay, my lad, but I do think you are wasting precious time¡ª¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯ll owe you a favor!¡± said Jeremiah

    Pete was already smiling wolfishly. ¡°Is that so?¡±

    ?

    Jeremiah threw a sack over the low wall and followed it to huddle behind a manicured bush. His target was two houses away, but every home in the neighborhood enjoyed a tiny walled yard, intact windows, and a reasonable number of inhabitants. Even the street was quiet, with just a handful of people out and about. The absence of furious throngs made Jeremiah feel like he¡¯d somehow left the city.

    His target belonged to an elven woman named Lady Shasee, who enjoyed splurging on flashy jewelry, or so Pete had said. Like most elven fortunes, hers had come from a long family line, now maintained through various ancient investments.

    Jeremiah felt a twinge of malice. He had spent days begging fruitlessly for single coppers just to eat¡ªthe wealth and comfort on display here were like a slap in the face.

    When he opened the sack, though, he couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°Hello, old friends.¡±

    The sack was filled with dead rats. Rats had not been proven hard to find in the Pit. On the contrary, it was hard  not  to find rats. Accumulating a pile of dead ones had been a simple matter of bending down and picking them up, no killing needed.

    He had an hour to earn a gold. Well, more like forty minutes now. It was his first robbery and he hadn¡¯t even been granted the time to properly case the building or make a plan. Therefore, he told himself, it was only reasonable to fall back on old habits. Just this once.

    Jeremiah hesitated. His reasons for swearing off necromancy flashed through his mind¡ªthe soldiers who¡¯d been torn apart by his zombies, the man in the closet. The countless people who had seen his power as a tool to be twisted to their own purposes. And now he was preparing to go back on his word, not for some lofty life-saving reason, but to do a bad thing.

    ¡°But is this really a bad thing?¡±  Jeremiah thought. He was stealing from a woman who had plenty, in order to get closer to uncovering a depraved murder cult¡ªsurely that balanced out to good.

    The clock was ticking.

    ¡°Power justifies its own use,¡±  Flusoh said.  ¡°Come on home.¡±

    Rise.

    Jeremiah hadn¡¯t anticipated how good it would feel. Back in the dungeon he had been too terrified to notice, but casting the spell now felt like stretching a sore muscle. The space in his mind was vast, and the rat bubbles were so small. He reflexively stacked them together, and the tiny amount of space they took up in his head painted a terrifying picture of how many he might be able to command at a time.

    He tipped the bag, spilling the rats onto the ground. They waited, primed to move at his command. ¡°I really hope that Shasee lady isn¡¯t around, or this is going to be one hell of a nightmare,¡± Jeremiah muttered to Gus.

    Climb .

    The zombified rats sprang to life and moved together like a roiling flea infested rug. They flowed over the garden walls and scuttled up the side of the elven woman¡¯s house. Lanterns flickered downstairs, so he sent them up towards a second story window.

    Jeremiah closed his eyes and focused on the sensations. It felt amazing. Just being in this state again, sorting the bits of information and exerting his will, gave him a peace of mind he didn¡¯t realize he was missing. Why did he give this up again?

    The upstairs window was closed, but not locked.

    Squeeze.

    When alive, rats were able to squish themselves nearly flat to slip through cracks in ways that¡¯d defy imagining. As undead, when pain and organ compression no longer mattered, they were functionally liquid. The first rats crushed their own guts out while squeezing into the seams of the window, gradually forcing it open enough that the rest of the rats could pour inside.

    The rats explored the room, gradually filling in Jeremiah¡¯s sense of the place until he could be confident it was a bedroom. Since he hadn¡¯t heard any screams of horror, he assumed the room was empty.

    ¡°Uhh¡­¡± This part was tricky.

    Take?

    The trickle of information from the horde became a chaotic torrent as the rats began pilfering random objects. Jeremiah struggled to make sense of what was happening. Several rats started trying to drag something heavy towards the window, and Jeremiah had to separate their bubbles from the stack to stop them. When each seemed to have something in tow, he recalled them.

    Rats started streaming out of the window, back towards Jeremiah. He hoped it was dark enough, and any passersby uninterested enough, that they would go unnoticed.

    Jeremiah opened the sack expectantly as the first rats returned. They scurried inside so he could evaluate the take.

    In retrospect, Jeremiah should have predicted that the objects rats would choose, even zombie rats infused with his will, would be different from what he would have chosen. The sack was filled with crumbs of food, dead bugs, fluff, bones from a mouse, and torn pieces of fabric. A couple coppers made it in, but no where near enough to equate a gold. Clearly the rats had seized upon whatever was nearby, likely on the floor and under furniture, when he had given the command.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Jeremiah swore. He estimated about half of his time had now gone, and he still had nothing to show for it. ¡°Okay, new plan.¡±

    This time he selected a group of bubbles to form a task force of sorts, just three rats to limit the onslaught of sensory information and allow Jeremiah to direct them more specifically. He hoped, anyway. He had never attempted anything like this.

    The task force rats made their way back over the wall and into the bedroom. Jeremiah tried to figure out how to command them to do what he wanted.

    Climb. Search.

    The rats climbed the furniture and scanned around on top while Jeremiah struggled to make sense of what they were seeing. Large, flat soft¡ªthat had to be a bed, thankfully unoccupied. Smooth, flat, good for biting¡ªa wooden surface of some kind. Soft, up, movement¡ªsome kind of hanging textile¡ªmaybe curtains?

    Jeremiah took a breath. He had never even considered this type of necromancy, but there was no reason he couldn¡¯t figure it out. Instead of spreading his focus wide, like he was used to when performing necromancy, he had to bring it in closer. Sharper. Like with enchanting.

    The information from the rats became more concrete. Dull shapes came into focus, he felt textures under his fingertips. There was a dim light from somewhere in the room, but the rats didn¡¯t register it as a dangerous light that meant people. Jeremiah sent them to investigate. It was a large vertical surface, flat and too slippery to climb. It was emitting a soft light¡­.a mirror!

    Jeremiah had to stop himself from shouting with triumph. The mirror was reflecting the moon from it¡¯s position above a vanity table. If this was where Lady Shasee sat every morning to get ready for the day, her jewelry collection had to be close to hand.

    Sure enough, the rats soon found a large box resting on top of the vanity. Opening it was surprisingly easy¡ªit seemed the muscle memory rats retained from pilfering human stores in life applied here. The box was filled with small non-food objects that the rats found horridly boring.

    The rats swiveled as one towards a sound from downstairs. A person was moving about, which every rat knows means danger.

    ¡° Now or never! ¡± thought Jeremiah. The rest of the horde streamed back out of the sack, over the garden wall, and up to the window. The footsteps were definitely making their way up the stairs. as the rats squeezed their way through the window.

    Take, return.

    He held the position of the box firmly in his mind as the rats swarmed over the box. ¡°Come on, come on!¡± he quietly urged them. They began scurrying back towards the window with their prizes, some of them struggling to fit larger objects through the narrow opening.

    The footsteps were coming down the hall now, nearly at the bedroom. Jeremiah tried not to think about what would happen if Lady Shasee discovered a robbery in progress by a horde of rats. He tried especially hard not to imagine what would happen if it were discovered that the rats were undead.

    He ordered them all back, whether or not they had an object. Surely whatever they had grabbed already would be worth at least a gold, including the split he¡¯d promised Pete. The rats fled, then Jeremiah remembered to send one back to close the box. It scampered across the vanity and jumped on the lid of the box just as the doorknob to the bedroom turned. Jeremiah ordered it to hide, and then severed the connection.

    The rest of the rats swarmed into Jeremiah¡¯s sack with their treasures. Or at least, so he hoped¡ªbefore he could check, he needed to get some distance from the scene in case Lady Shasee was about to discover she¡¯d been robbed. He lifted the sack over her shoulder and casually exited the bush, heading back towards the Pit as though he hadn¡¯t a care in the world. As soon as he turned the corner, he broke into a sprint.

    Back to the Pit. Jeremiah ducked into the corner of an abandoned hovel and knelt, not waiting to catch his breath before he opened the sack.

    Out.

    The rats dropped whatever they held and swarmed out of the bag, leaving only their earnings behind.

    Scatter .

    The rats scurried off in every direction. Jeremiah gave them a few seconds before severing the connection. Dozens of tiny bubbles burst, and he was sad to see them go. It had been like regaining his vision after being blind for over a year, but only for a moment.

    ¡°It was an emergency,¡±  he reminded himself.

    ¡°There will always be emergencies,¡±  said Allison.

    He peeked into the bag, and to his relief, discovered a respectable pile of jewelry, gemstones of various colors glittering together along with silver and pearls. This was easily worth several gold.

    Gripping the sack closed, he ran straight for the Stonefists¡¯ headquarters, not daring to stop moving lest an opportunistic citizen of the Pit decide to take whatever he owned for themselves. He wasn''t sure exactly how much time remained of his hour, but he knew it couldn¡¯t be much.

    Pete was waiting for him in front of the entrance. ¡°Good evening Jay, how are you finding things?¡± said Pete.

    ¡°Great. Move, Pete,¡± said Jeremiah.

    But Pete merely smiled congenially. ¡°I believe we had a bargain, did we not? I¡¯ll be taking my share before you turn it all over, thank you.¡± There was a slight edge to his voice, the sliver of a threat.

    ¡°Argh! Okay, fine. Just take whatever,¡± Jeremiah held the bag out to him as they descended the stairs, out of sight of anyone that might be spying.

    Pete took his time. Piece by piece, he sorted the jewels into two piles while Jeremiah paced impatiently. He was surprised to see Pete eschewing the more elaborate items in favor of loose stones and simple designs.

    ¡°Thank you, Jay, it has been a pleasure doing business with you,¡± said Pete, collecting and pocketing his earnings. ¡°Now, scurry along, Monty is surely waiting.¡±

    Jeremiah just about flew to Monty¡¯s office, remembering only at the last moment to kick his shoes off at the door. The dwarf sat in the light of his single candle, as if he had frozen in place when Jeremiah had looked away.

    About eight minutes of sand remained in the glass as Jeremiah triumphantly emptied the contents of the sack onto Monty¡¯s desk.

    Monty didn¡¯t even glance at it. ¡°What is this?¡±

    ¡°You asked for a gold, I brought you several times that,¡± said Jeremiah. He tried to sound brash, but a sense of dread was tickling the back of his neck.

    ¡°You brought me work.¡± said Monty. ¡°You brought me a fence¡¯s fee. You brought me personalized pieces I can¡¯t sell. You brought me gems and metals of unknown quality, that I¡¯ll need to pay to have appraised.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°There¡¯s plenty here to be worth more than a gold, even with all that stuff.¡±

    Monty gestured to the jewels with a cold smile. ¡°Have a look.¡±

    Jeremiah swallowed and took a closer look at the treasures.

    Monogrammed. Every piece of significance was monogrammed or stamped with a crest. All of it was custom. The gemstones, few that there were, were small and cloudy.

    ¡°And all of this¡­isn¡¯t worth a gold?¡± Try as he might, he couldn¡¯t keep the pleading out of his voice or his eyes.

    Monty kept smiling. ¡°Could be. But it¡¯s a lot of work on my part just to check, which I certainly don¡¯t owe you. So, ¡®best second story man in Shabad¡¯, by my count you have four minutes and forty three seconds to produce my gold. After that, and not one second later, I offer the fine men and women upstairs¡ªwho have earned my trust the old fashioned way¡ªthe chance to collect your head for the same price.¡±

    ¡°I-I can¡¯t! That¡¯s not enough time!¡± said Jeremiah, backing toward the door.

    Monty wiped his desk clean with a massive hand. The treasure clattered as it hit the floor. ¡°Tragic.¡±

    Jeremiah ran up the stairs, his mind racing even faster. As he reached the main room, every eye in the room turned towards him.

    ¡°Oh, this¡¯ll be easy. I¡¯ve got this one in the bag!¡±

    ¡°The hell you do, I¡¯ll have him inside an hour.¡±

    ¡°Hey Ren, want to team up on this one? Fifty-fifty?¡±

    ¡°Nah, let¡¯s make this one a good ol¡¯ fashioned race!¡±

    They laughed as Jeremiah shoved his way past. He had to do something, but what? Run up the Pit and rob the nearest person, hoping for a coin? He¡¯d never make it back in time, even if he miraculously picked a gold from the first pocket he saw.

    He threw open the door and sprinted up the stairs. Maybe the head start  over the Stonefists would be enough to make some distance. A shadow loomed over him at the top of the stairs, backed by the glow of a lantern flame.

    ¡°Need a favor, lad?¡± asked Pete. He was holding a gold coin in his outstretched hand.

 Chapter 27. Made Man

    Chapter 27. Made Man

    ¡°There!¡± Jeremiah slammed the gold coin on Monty¡¯s desk.

    Monty raised one eyebrow. ¡°Did you? You left my office all of,¡± he glanced at the hourglass, ¡°two minutes ago, and in that time you managed to find a gold?¡±

    ¡°Yup, that¡¯s what happened. Just like you asked.¡± Jeremiah massaged a stitch in his side.

    ¡°The point of the task was  steal  a gold to prove your worth as a second-story man.¡±

    ¡° He said what he said. Press him on that fact. ,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Ah ah ah! You didn¡¯t say that,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°¡®Bring me one gold,¡¯ that¡¯s what you said. Here¡¯s the gold. I get to join a cell.¡±

    Monty closed his eyes a let out a groaning sigh. ¡°While I can only  imagine  where this came from,¡± he said, as though he knew exactly where it came from, ¡°I said what I said. That¡¯s on me.¡±

    Jeremiah held his breath.

    ¡°You¡¯re in. Congrats. I¡¯ll add you to the register. And by the way,¡± Monty picked up the coin and closed it in his fist, ¡°if it turns out you have no business being part of a cell, your exit will be far less expedient than your entrance.¡±

    Jeremiah exhaled. ¡°Thank you, sir. Don¡¯t worry, it wasn¡¯t a fluke.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see. I still know you¡¯re lying about who you are.¡± Monty dropped the gold back onto the desk. It wobbled where it landed, the previously flat disc was now bent in the middle. ¡°But if you can do a good job for the Stonefists, then I suppose it doesn¡¯t much matter.¡±

    ***

    ¡°You''re Jay, right? Our new slip?¡± A woman found Jay where he had been hanging around in the Stonefists headquarters. She was a gnome, with wide eyes and a small nose, standing chest-high. A tight leather belt at her waist held two coils of thin rope and a scabbard for the rapier. She looked him over with a skeptical eye.

    ¡°Yeah, that''s me,¡± said Jeremiah. He was relieved¡ªhe¡¯d missed dinner, and the company of those who¡¯d been so recently hoping to collect a bounty on his head left something to be desired.

    ¡°Sweet Melissa. Let''s go,¡± she said.

    Jeremiah followed Sweet Melissa out of the headquarters and into the still-dark shamble of the Pit. ¡°Gotta ask about the Sweet part,¡± he said.

    ¡°No idea,¡± said Sweet Melissa, ¡°was given to me when I wasn''t around. They still won''t tell me.¡±

    Jeremiah snorted, and to his surprise she flashed him a smile and laughed too. ¡°Don''t make fun,¡± she said, and gave him a friendly push. He realized that he was thoroughly touch starved and, as a result, he was instantly smitten with her.

    ¡°It was just a funny answer,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°I wasn''t making fun.¡±

    ¡°You were gonna,¡± said Sweet Melissa. She gave him another playful smile.

    ¡°So I¡¯m staying with you? In a building?¡± Much as he was enjoying the playfulness, the possibility of a night indoors was even more enticing.

    ¡°With me and the guys. We¡¯re Cell four. Of course, if you¡¯ve got something better lined up, by all means.¡±

    Jeremiah was shaking with excitement. This would change everything. He could sleep. He would feel like a person again. The night back home had only sharpened his desire for a roof and bed.

    Sweet Melissa brought him to a building that perched on the very edge of the Pit, a leaning mess that looked ready to topple down and crush everything beneath it in an avalanche of dilapidation. It was beautiful.

    She handed Jeremiah a key. ¡°All you.¡±

    Jeremiah put the key in the lock and turned. With more effort than should be necessary, the deadbolt slid aside and the door jumped open.

    Sweet Melissa ushered him inside with a little bow. ¡°Welcome home, Jay.¡±

    ?

    Sweet Melissa led him up some rickety stairs to a door, upon which she performed a rapid series of knocks. The room it opened to was small, to say the least, but it was moderately clean. Jeremiah was more than willing to overlook the tiny water stains beginning to form in the corners and some mysterious red tinge along some of the floorboards.

    Two half-orcs lounging on a couch looked Jeremiah up and down. ¡°Well, you get what you get,¡± sighed one.

    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him, we¡¯re happy to have a new slip,¡± said the other. ¡°I¡¯m Shugga, this is Dronkal. We¡¯re your knockarounds.¡±

    Jeremiah raised a hand in greeting. The half-orcs could have been twins. Both were tall and ropey with muscle, shaved heads, and wore matching leather armor. Their tusks were stubby, more like fangs than the tusks Jeremiah had seen on other half-orcs. Each wore a pair of identical metal-capped truncheons at their hips. Knockaround meant the muscle, responsible for intimidation, they certainly seemed suited to their role.

    ¡°Jay here just skipped being a Subby,¡± said Sweet Melissa, draping herself over an armchair. ¡°Impressed Monty enough to get promoted right up the chain, lucky us!¡±

    ¡°Aw, I kinda miss the Subby days,¡± said Shugga. ¡°They get to get their hands dirty. We mostly just give out orders,¡± he added for Jay¡¯s benefit.

    ¡°With a slip we can get back to some real profit work,¡± said Dronkal. ¡°Last slip messed up and got himself a few years. We¡¯ve mostly been collecting protections while we waited for a new one, bit of drug trade stuff, and we¡¯ve got a couple teams mugging. But it¡¯s been a while since we could do a big score. Couple of knockarounds and a call aren¡¯t the best for the big jobs, you know?¡±

    A call was a killer, plain and simple. Sweet Melissa batted her eyelashes at Jay. ¡°How do we get jobs?¡± Jeremiah asked.

    ¡°Usually they come down from Monty,¡± said Dronkal. ¡°You find a lead, you can run it up the chain and if he likes it, you¡¯ll usually get it. Not always. But if you try to run a job without his say¡­¡±

    Smack.  Shugga hit his open palm with his fist. ¡°Boss don¡¯t like that.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Jeremiah nodded. ¡°Easy enough.¡± He stifled a yawn. The stress of the evening was starting to get to him.

    ¡°Hey Melissa, why don¡¯t you show Jay his room?¡± said Shugga.

    ¡°I have a room?¡± It seemed too much to hope for.

    ¡°Right up there,¡± Shugga said, pointing. ¡°There¡¯s also a kitchen, but you¡¯re on your own there.¡±

    ¡°Your door has a lock.¡± said Dronkal. ¡°No one¡¯s gonna bother you. I¡¯ve been where you are right now.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± said Jeremiah. Where was he exactly?

    ¡°There¡¯s stuff for a sandwich in the kitchen,¡± continued Dronkal. ¡°You should go make yourself one and take it upstairs and lock the door. You¡¯ll see what I mean.¡±

    Jeremiah didn¡¯t need to be asked twice. Balancing a true feast of a sandwich, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that he¡¯d had this dream before. The room was unremarkable, barely more than a closet, but there was a bed in it, and a window. A window that let you look outside without actually  being  outside. In the corner was a basin of water and a cloth.

    Little motes of rain were just beginning to appear on the window glass. He closed the door like he had closed a thousand doors in his life, but this time when it clicked shut the silence of the room was everything. He was alone, truly alone. He threw the bolt, and the shabby room became a fortress. They couldn¡¯t get him here. Anyone.

    He placed Gus beside him. Gus was safe and still and quiet. Total silence. There were no wild dogs, no lurking rats, no city guards.

    Jeremiah ate his sandwich slowly, very slowly. He savored every bite. Something was releasing in his body. As he finished his food, his eyelids began to grow heavy.

    Jeremiah stripped down and went to the basin. The water was warm, comfortably warm. There was a sliver of soap. Jeremiah washed, feeling like he was exposing skin that hadn¡¯t touched air in a long time.

    The heavy eyes grew to lightheadedness. He staggered over to the bed and crawled under the sheets. The bed was as cheap as they come, a frame with a lattice of rope. It was perfect.

    ¡°No one is going to get me,¡±  thought Jeremiah as he lay his head down on an actual pillow.  ¡°I can sleep. No one is going to get me.¡±

    Jeremiah suddenly burst into wracking, silent sobs. They were over quickly. Sleep wasn¡¯t the word for what Jeremiah fell into, it was catatonia.

    Jeremiah woke with a start, heart pounding, hands already forming the movements he needed to send an acid ball at¡­what exactly?

    The previous night returned to him piece by piece as his terror subsided. It was still here, the tiny room that was all his. The lock remained secure. Sunlight and bustling sounds from the nearby slums came from the tiny window.

    Jeremiah pushed himself up to sitting, and his hand landed on  Flesh . He was unsurprised. He¡¯d last seen the book sinking to the bottom of the canal tied to a rock, but it returned now sans rock or string. It wasn¡¯t even damp.

    ¡°I should practice some enchanting,¡± he told the book. He had food in his belly, a safe place, and nobody was demanding he go somewhere else. It was a perfect opportunity.

    Instead, he ran his fingers over the cover of  Flesh . Books were meant to be read. He''d read a lot of books, and nothing bad had ever happened.

    ¡°It would be irresponsible of me to not to learn more about the artifact,¡± he explained to Gus. ¡°Flusoh made it for me as a gift, and it seems to have imprinted on me. I¡¯m not going to be able to get rid of it anytime soon, so it would be unwise to ignore it.¡±

    ¡° Uh-huh ,¡± said Allison.

    He opened the front cover, resisting the urge to flip to the ivory page detailing the new spell. The first page of the book showed a single drawing of a nude, male human. The next page focused on dissected views of the human¡¯s arm and shoulder bones, musculature, circulatory, and nervous systems. The detail was exquisite, drawn by the hand of a master artist. Perhaps Flusoh himself?

    The diagrams were engrossing, as were the margin notes reminding the reader of common anatomical variations or highlighting traits specific to humans compared to other races. He read for almost two hours before the book moved past just exploring the arm and shoulder and continued onto a section about the hand.

    The detail of the hand was so incredible Jeremiah felt like he could touch it. He did, and it moved.

    ¡°Nope!¡± Jeremiah slammed the book shut.

    What had just happened? Hallucination? Trick of the light? Brain injury born of malnutrition and blunt force trauma?

    He slowly opened the book again. It fell open to the same page with the hand.

    ¡°I am a mage,¡± he said out loud, ¡°learned and brave and other positive things.¡±

    He jabbed the illustrated hand. It was like poking a page in any book. He wiped his fingers across the drawing, and the hand followed the movement. The ink of the illustration simply bled in the direction he dragged his fingers, not leaving a trace behind. It moved like a liquid pouring across the page.

    After the shock wore off, Jeremiah found the game delightful. He danced his fingers all over the page, and the drawing changed as he did so, the joints moving and the perspective rotating in response.

    ¡°Gus, you have got to take a look at this!¡± He made a broad gesture to demonstrate the effect to his familiar, and the illustrated hand flew off the page entirely.

    Jeremiah¡¯s jaw dropped. The inky hand, in all its detail, floated in midair. It was not just a flat drawing anymore, but a three-dimensional model, albeit one rendered in ink. As before, it responded to his movements, the fingers moving and rotating as he prodded it. He glanced down at the page it had come from, and saw ink bleeding through to reform the drawing. No shortage, then.

    Playing with the hand captivated Jeremiah for so long that Gus grew bored and took a nap. It was wondrous, one of the most miraculous things Jeremiah had ever seen, but something niggled at him.

    What was the point? Why go through the enormous effort this book must have taken just for an advanced anatomy lesson? He had to be missing something.

    Jeremiah flipped the book to a random page. It showed the section of the leg between knee and ankle of an orc.

    ¡°Yeesss,¡±  said Flusoh¡¯s gleeful voice in his head.  ¡°Yeeeeeeessssss!¡±

    He pulled the piece of orc leg off the page and let it float beside the human hand. With a few quick touches, he maneuvered the hand over the end of the leg, where a foot ought to go, and connected the muscles together.

    The hand flopped around as Jeremiah flexed the orc calf. The leg-hand was complete.

    ¡°Oh gods, that is creepy,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°This isn¡¯t just a fancy reference book, then. It¡¯s a way to experiment with building¡­ things! ¡±

    ¡° Abominations ,¡± said Flusoh.

    Jeremiah remembered that Flusoh had mentioned teaching him about abominations when they¡¯d last spoken, and it seemed that his teacher had created  Flesh  as a way to impart that knowledge in his stead. Most likely, the spell at the back was the key to assembling the amalgam creatures.

    ¡° Again, abominations ,¡± said Flusoh.

    ¡°Well, I definitely don¡¯t need to learn the spell,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°But I can play with the pictures. There¡¯s no harm in that.¡±

    ¡° None at all! ¡± said Flusoh.

 Chapter 28. Heist

    Chapter 28. Heist

    Shugga knocked on Jeremiah¡¯s door towards the end of his first day as a Stonefist. ¡°Look sharp, Monty¡¯s coming ¡®round with a new job for us.¡±

    Jeremiah dressed and hurried downstairs. His three new cell mates were already gathered. Sweet Melissa was counting lengths of silken rope, sitting on Dronkal¡¯s back while the half-orc did one-armed pushups. Shugga sat quietly on the sofa, his elbows on his knees and his head bowed.

    ¡°So, uh,¡± Jeremiah said to announce his presence.

    Sweet Melissa gave Jeremiah a huge smile. ¡°Good morning, sunshine! You must have impressed Monty an awful lot for him to be giving us a job right away.¡±

    Dronkal grunted. ¡°Or he¡¯s trying to make you fail out early.¡±

    Jeremiah had his suspicions as to which guess was correct. ¡°Any idea what the job is?¡±

    As though in answer to his question, a complex rhythm rapped at the door. Sweet Melissa chirruped with excitement, and skipped to answer it.

    Monty, wore a pitch black tunic and pants. He strode into the room as though he owned the place¡ªJeremiah supposed he did, actually¡ªand addressed the room. ¡°I¡¯ll cut right to the chase. A few blocks up from here is a stash house for the Blackshades. They¡¯ve got a shipment of Dismal set to be distributed and released tomorrow. I want it stolen.

    ¡°Joining us, boss?¡± asked Shugga, raising a brow at Monty¡¯s outfit.

    ¡°I am,¡± said Monty.

    ¡°Really?¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°It¡¯s awful nice of you to look after me on my first job.¡±

    Monty looked to Jeremiah directly. ¡°I¡¯m here because you don¡¯t make any sense. You claim to be the best second story man in Shabad, you complete a burglary of a target you¡¯ve never seen in less than an hour, then you get fleeced by Pete right outside my door. So you¡¯re lying, but you maybe still know what you¡¯re on about. Tough for me to suss. Saves me a lot of trouble if you just fail or die.¡±

    Monty grinned at the look on Jeremiah¡¯s face. ¡°You know your letters and your numbers?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°See?¡± Monty said to the other cell members. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, he doesn¡¯t add up.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve all got secrets,¡± said Shugga. ¡°I don¡¯t care if he¡¯s a prince, so long as he does his job and lets me do mine.¡±

    ¡°He suits me just dandy,¡± said Sweet Melissa.

    ¡°Anyway, what¡¯s the play?¡± said Dronkal.

    It took Jeremiah a moment to realize they were all looking at him, waiting for him to speak. ¡°The play? What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the Slip,¡± said Shugga, ¡°this is a Slip¡¯s job. You want us to wait here? Somewhere else? Help scout?¡±

    ¡°Monty too?¡± asked Jeremiah. With all of one robbery under his belt, he did not feel ready for this.

    ¡°I want to see you in action for myself,¡± said Monty.

    ¡°Oh¡­.kay!¡± said Jeremiah. He tried to imagine how Allison would handle the situation. ¡°This is officially an operation!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking he¡¯s military. Or a spy. Something government related,¡± Monty said.

    Jeremiah turned to Monty. ¡°So are you actually good at anything? What do I do with you?¡± he couldn¡¯t let Monty get away with just blatantly harassing him in front of his new cell.

    ¡°I can do anything you need me to do, better than anyone else here,¡± said Monty matter-of-factly.

    He registered no reaction from his cell mates at Monty¡¯s claim, so he suspected the dwarf wasn¡¯t exaggerating. ¡°Alright, first things first is I gotta case the place. Melissa, I want you on close support. Give me space to work, but be ready to come if I call you.¡±

    That prompted a big smile from Melissa. ¡°¡®Yes sir!¡±

    ¡°The rest of you fan out. Make your own way to the target, then get a vantage point to keep watch. Monty, you¡¯re up high. Shugga, Dronkal, you¡¯re backup in case things go south. Keep an ear out, but don¡¯t draw attention. After I¡¯ve had eyes on the situation, meet back here and I¡¯ll let you know how we¡¯re gonna nab the goods.¡±

    ¡°Blades out?¡± asked Melissa.

    ¡°I-¡±

    ¡°No killing unless absolutely necessary,¡± said Monty.

    Jeremiah raised his eyebrows. ¡°Is this my operation or not?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s your ¡®operation¡¯, and I am the leader of Stonefists, which is my operation,¡± said Monty.

    Jeremiah tried to think of a comeback, but couldn¡¯t fault the logic. ¡°Well, everyone be armed, anyway.¡±

    ¡°And you?¡± asked Monty. ¡°You don¡¯t have a weapon.¡±

    ¡°I¡­guess I don¡¯t,¡± said Jeremiah. How had he missed that? He was so used to being able to cast magic, he hadn¡¯t even considered that someone in his position should carry a weapon.

    ¡°That is just so pure,¡± said Melissa.

    Monty plucked a butter knife off the table, one that would struggle against butter, and handed in to Jeremiah. ¡°Careful, it¡¯s sharp.¡± Shugga and Dronkal snickered.

    ¡°Alright, shut it!¡± Jeremiah barked, tucking the knife away. ¡°Everyone, meet back here in thirty. Melissa, let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir!¡± said Sweet Melissa. She opened the door and bounded down the stairs. Then she poked her head back up. ¡°Mmm, ¡®sir¡¯. I like the sound of that. You gonna get me in that trouble-bad, Jay.¡± She bit her lip and batted her eyelashes at him before slipping away again.

    Jeremiah turned to follow when Dronkal caught his eye. The half-orc¡¯s eyes were wide. He glanced towards the door then gave the tiniest shake of his head. The entire gesture took a fraction of a second, practically instantaneous, but the warning was clear enough that Jeremiah couldn¡¯t pretend he hadn¡¯t seen it.

    Do not touch the crazy.

    ?

    Sweet Melissa led Jeremiah through the slums towards the Blackshades¡¯ stash house. ¡°Alone at last,¡± she said.

    Now that he was looking for it, there was something unmistakably predatory about the gnome, something that made the hairs on his arms stand on end. ¡°Is it normal for Monty to join you guys?¡± he asked, trying to divert the conversation back to business.

    ¡°Nope.¡± Sweet Melissa started weaving close to Jeremiah. ¡°He¡¯s taken a liking to you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what a liking looks like?¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°I¡¯d hate to get on his bad side.¡±

    ¡°Okay, more like an interest. Monty is a very busy man. It¡¯s not unprecedented that he¡¯s taking the time to monitor you personally, but¡­ well, the people he¡¯s interested in either go far or die quickly.¡±

    ¡°Do they die because Monty kills them?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Him or me,¡± said Sweet Melissa. ¡°I sure do hope it¡¯s me,¡± she finished coquettishly.

    Jeremiah suppressed a shudder. ¡°Is that the place?¡± They had come into view of an ugly squat building. The second floor had long since collapsed, but the bottom endured. for now. All the windows Jeremiah could see were boarded up, with candlelight peeking through the gaps.

    ¡°That¡¯s the one,¡± said Sweet Melissa.

    ¡°Alright, keep an eye out in that rubble there. Shout if something seems wrong, but don¡¯t leave. I need to know where to run to if I have to,¡± said Jeremiah. He¡¯d much rather put her between himself and danger than rely on losing pursuers.

    ¡°Remember, don¡¯t run  to  me, run  past  me,¡± said Sweet Melissa. And don¡¯t touch any ropes.¡± She began looping out lengths of ropes from her belt, where Jeremiah realized she had dozens of varying lengths of tight cord. She climbed into the rubble of a building that Jeremiah had pointed out, leaving him alone in the shadows.

    Jeremiah could hear Bruno from their lessons.  ¡°You remember what to do first?¡±

    ¡°First we case,¡±  thought Jeremiah.

    Very slowly and keeping his distance, Jeremiah began to orbit the building, looking for any points of entry besides the front door. There were no sentries, likely to avoid standing out. ¡° Could hop up to the second floor, see if there¡¯s a hole .¡±

    ¡°You could. Walk me through what would happen,¡±  said Bruno.

    ¡°I get up. Likely make a bunch of noise. Stands out, no reason for anyone to be up there. Probably isn¡¯t structurally sound, either. No go.¡±

    ¡°Correct. Good.¡±

    Despite just being in his imagination, Jeremiah felt smart having avoided a mistake. He continued his deliberate loop of the building, listening closely.

    He caught a hint of a voice from inside. ¡° Nothing the candle didn¡¯t tell us. ¡±

    ¡°No?¡±  said Bruno.  ¡°I find most times when there¡¯s a speaker, there¡¯s a-¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Listener, right. So more than one person.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re a good distance away, and you haven¡¯t heard anything else,¡±  said Bruno.

    ¡°A shout. Or an exclamation. It was louder than anything else if they¡¯re talking,¡±  said Jeremiah.

    ¡°You often shout at your friends when it¡¯s just the two of you?¡±  asked Bruno.

    ¡°No. Someone got excited¡­there¡¯s an audience,¡±  said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Atta boy,¡±  whispered Bruno.

    ¡°Windows are all boarded. Roof is a mess. Front door is¡­likely the front door. How do I get in?¡±  He considered setting the building on fire, but decided it would likely burn whatever he was supposed to take. Rats were an option, one that he was a little too excited for.

    ¡°There¡¯s always an excuse,¡±  said Allison

    Jeremiah noticed an oddity. Part of one window near ground level allowed hardly any light at all. He took a chance and darted close.

    Huddled in the shadow of the building, Jeremiah tried to squint between the wood boards, but they were pressed too tightly against one another to allow it. The shadow was still being cast against the window, unmoving. Something large and stationary was inside.

    Jeremiah considered his options. A crowbar would allow him to break a board, but that would be far too loud. Unless¡­

    He pulled out the table knife. Scraping with his enchanting tools would be too noisy, but if he pressed the blade of the knife into the wood, perhaps he could indent the surface just enough.

    Over many painstaking minutes, he imparted the runes Gently Decay into the surface of the largest board. The lines of the diagram were of uneven depth, their alignments imprecise. Thurok would be ashamed.

    ¡° I am ashamed ,¡± said Thurok.

    But as far as he could tell, the enchantment was complete. Jeremiah whispered the magic words to empower the diagram. The runes glowed, and sizzling sound emanated from within the wood, like thousands of tiny bubbles popping. Shameful or not, the enchantment was working.

    Jeremiah pressed his fingers into the wood. It came away in his hands like a repulsive clay, but it was silent and most importantly, he soon had a hole that would be large enough to squeeze through.

    The light was being blocked by what looked like a stack of crates. For a wild moment, Jeremiah dared to hope they contained the Dismal he was after, whatever that was, but he soon realized they were empty. Putting his hands against the bottom-most crate, he pushed the entire stack a fraction of a fraction of an inch.

    Jeremiah held his breath. He heard no break in the murmur of conversation inside, so he risked another push. And another.

    Eventually the crates had been moved enough that Jeremiah Jeremiah wiggled his way inside. Flat between the wall and the crates, Jeremiah took shallow breaths. The position reminded him all too much of waiting behind the vault door for the golem to find him. He shook the memory and stepped carefully towards the edge of the crate tower to see into the room.

    The stash house was a large, plain room. In the center of the room was a cardtable, where seven people were hunched over their hands. Beneath the table was a chest, this one sporting a large padlock. His target was sighted.

    Jeremiah studied the load-outs of the card players. Two of them wore metal breastplates and had greatswords on their hips. The rest were lightly armored with knives, no serious threat besides their number. Even so, altogether they made a formidable group. There was no way he¡¯d be able to just sneak off with the chest.

    He slipped back outside, no one the wiser, and recollected Sweet Melissa. A short walk later, they reconvened back at the house and Jeremiah described what he had seen, saying the hole in the wall was a happy coincidence.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan then?¡± asked Dronkal. ¡°You¡¯re saying you can¡¯t filch it?¡±

    Jeremiah shook his head. How to put this delicately? ¡°I think this situation calls for a smash and grab.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re outnumbered, out armed, and out armored, and you want to turn it into a fight?¡± asked Sweet Melissa. She sounded more impressed than anything.

    ¡°I think we can even the odds and take them by surprise,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°They¡¯re not on guard, they¡¯re just hanging around. They¡¯re not ready for an attack, much less one that comes from inside the building.¡±

    Shugga and Dronkal exchanged a look, concern mirrored on their features. ¡°I¡¯m not liking there being greatswords in that room,¡± said Shugga, ¡°that¡¯s real hardware.¡±

    ¡°Look, guys¡ªMonty, do you think you could take two unarmored humans in a fight?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Monty.

    ¡°And Sweet Melissa, can you make a rope snare?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± said Melissa. Her hands dropped to the ropes, her fingers flicked, and there was a small looping knot in the cord.

    Jeremiah nodded. ¡°We knock and snare one of the armored guys at the door. They¡¯ll be the ones answering, it¡¯s their job. At the same time, we attack from inside, full rush, don¡¯t even let the others out of their chairs. If we strike hard and fast, we can overwhelm them. At the very least, I can snatch the box and run if it turns into a fair fight.¡±

    They all looked to Monty.

    ¡°You go first,¡± Monty said to Jeremiah, ¡°and you leave last. You try to deviate from that, I¡¯ll kill you myself.¡±

    Leading the charge was definitely not part of Jeremiah¡¯s skill set, but it would have to do. ¡°Deal. Sweet Melissa, get your snare up. Everyone else, follow me.¡±

    ?

    The four of them, minus Sweet Melissa, waited in the shadows beside Jeremiah¡¯s ingress point. Jeremiah saw Monty run one of his massive fingers along the edge of the board where the enchanted wood had come away. The dwarf scowled, but didn¡¯t say anything.

    Jeremiah started when Melissa crept up on them.

    ¡°Trap is set,¡± she whispered, ¡°but I need to set it off manually. I¡¯ll rush in the front door while you rush in the back.¡±

    ¡°Non-lethal,¡± said Monty.

    ¡°Boss, you can¡¯t be serious,¡± said Sweet Melissa.

    ¡°They¡¯ve got real steel in there,¡± said Shugga.

    ¡°Not worth starting a war with the Blackshades over Dismal, no matter how much they have,¡± said Monty. ¡°You can kill the armored ones, they¡¯re outside muscle. But no one else. If they want to run, you let them run.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll get in position,¡± Jeremiah said. ¡°We go on your signal.¡±

    Jeremiah slipped back through the hole in the wall. There wasn¡¯t room for all of them, so the others would break through as soon as they¡¯d gone loud. Jeremiah hoped they would, at least. Charging the card table alone would be a nasty way to learn Monty was sick of him already. His heart raced with the promise of an imminent fight.

    BANG BANG BANG.

    Jeremiah heard the men at the card table jump as someone pounded on the door.

    ¡°Go see who it is, we ain¡¯t expecting nobody for another few hours¡± said a voice.

    ¡°Probably Dondinger, I seen that halfling scum sneaking around lately.¡±

    There was a long silence.

    ¡°Well? Go earn your pay!¡±

    Someone grumbled and they heard a chair moving, and the sound of a sword being unsheathed. One of the mercenaries.

    Shugga reached through the hole and pried the table knife out of Jeremiah¡¯s hand. Jeremiah looked down to see the handle of a proper dagger pressed into his palm. He smiled his thanks to Shugga. The weapon failed to make him feel any safer.

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡±  asked Allison.

    ¡°Scream. Charge. Try not to die,¡±  thought Jeremiah.

    ¡°War cries are for warriors. Why don¡¯t you stick with the advantage you have?,¡±  said Allison.

    ¡°Silent charge,¡± Jeremiah whispered over his shoulder. He heard Shugga pass the word back.

    Allison voice continued.  ¡°You¡¯re going first, and the most dangerous man in that room has a breastplate and broadsword. Can you kill him?¡±

    ¡°Almost certainly not,¡±  thought Jeremiah.

    ¡°Can you take him out of the fight long enough for the others to help?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I can do that.¡±

    The front door opened. ¡°Hey! You touch this door again and I¡¯ll cut you from stem to¡ªHUAAH!¡±

    Without a word Jeremiah slipped from behind the crates and sprinted into the room, hopeful the others were following. He made no noise besides footsteps to draw the attention of the five men wondering what had just happened at the door. They didn¡¯t see Jeremiah coming.

    The armored mercenary was getting to his feet, one hand on the pommel of his sheathed sword. He looked up just in time to see Jeremiah leaping across the table towards him.

    Jeremiah collided with the merc¡¯s breastplate and they both toppled over the chair. Jeremiah wrapped the man¡¯s sword arm up in a tight embrace, then clung for dear life. The merc was big, but he wasn¡¯t strong enough to lift Jeremiah with one arm, and the sword they were so concerned about was now out of reach.

    The lights dimmed as someone struck Jeremiah in the side of the head. Then there were shouts and thuds and grunts of pain all around him. The Stonefists had arrived.

    Jeremiah chanced a glance up. Shugga and Dronkal were shoulder to shoulder, raining truncheon blows on three of the unarmored gang members, attacking and defending each other without impeding each other in an elegant and brutal dance. Monty had one huge forearm wrapped around the fourth man¡¯s neck and was gripping the face of another, his huge hands easily finding purchase on the man¡¯s jaw and throat. ¡°Shhh, shhh,¡± murmured Monty as he quietly strangled them both.

    ¡°Get off, you little shit!¡± The merc rolled on top of Jeremiah, still clinging to his arm, and began raining blows down on him. Jeremiah tried to bury his head beneath the merc¡¯s armored shoulder and willed himself to hold on.

    ¡°Haawooooooo!¡± Sweet Melissa leapt onto the table, rapier drawn and lasso twirling. She flicked it over the head of the mercenary grappling Jeremiah and yanked. The man gagged as the lasso cinched around his throat, his eyes popping.

    Sweet Melissa pulled the merc upward. Jeremiah let him go, too addled to keep his grip, and lay on the floor in a daze. He was aware of some violence being enacted upon the merc, then the man joined his comrades in unconsciousness.

    Monty appeared above Jeremiah and hauled him to his feet. The dwarf¡¯s hand engulfed Jeremiah¡¯s. ¡°Grab the chest and the sword,¡± Monty said. ¡°We¡¯re heading to Getaway Number 3.¡±

    Jeremiah picked up a greatsword while the half-orcs carried the locked chest between them. They all exited through the front door, passing by another armored woman suspended off the ground by a rope around her ankle. Her sword was lying a few paces away, and Jeremiah spent a precious moment to snatch that up too. He was the best armed beggar in the city.

    They chased Monty through the streets of the slum. Jeremiah wanted to let out a cheer. It worked! Almost exactly as he¡¯d said it would, it worked. But there was still a chance for it to unwork if the Blackshades found them, so he kept his celebration internal.

    Monty brought them to a pile of rotten wood and lifted a beam, revealing a narrow tunnel leading underground. ¡°Down.¡±

    Sweet Melissa simply scampered inside, but Jeremiah, Shugga, and Dronkal had to crawl. The tunnel led deeper and deeper into darkness. Jeremiah sensed the familiar feeling of descent.

    ¡°Drop ahead,¡± called Sweet Melissa.

    Shugga stopped in front of Jeremiah, shifted, and disappeared into the ground. Jeremiah reached a hand out and discovered a steep wooden slide. He heard a grunt from below.

    ¡°Is it safe?¡± he asked.

    ¡°No, come down!¡± said Shugga.

    Jeremiah pondered that for a moment, but at Dronkal¡¯s insistent prodding, he launched himself over the edge.

 Chapter 29. Little Victories

    Chapter 29. Little Victories

    The descent down the wooden slide was quicker than he wanted, Jeremiah sucked air through his teeth as he was whisked along. It was so dark he couldn¡¯t see the bottom before he slammed into it with a dull thud.

    ¡°You alright?¡± asked Shugga.

    ¡°Fine,¡± said Jeremiah, rubbing his back.

    ¡°Keep moving,¡± said Monty behind them.

    ¡°Moving where? I can¡¯t see anything,¡± said Jeremiah.

    The others groaned. ¡°Friggin humans,¡± said Shugga.

    ¡°Can humans not see in the dark?¡± asked Sweet Melissa.

    ¡°Nah, when there¡¯s no light they¡¯re blind,¡± said Shugga.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s terrible! No wonder they¡¯re always carrying lanterns around!¡±

    ¡°Quiet,¡± said Monty. There was a scrape and a burst of sparks that illuminated everyone in an orange flash, then a torch flame sprang to life.

    All around, as far as the light would reach, the cracked and dying walls of an ancient city reached into the darkness. Jeremiah stared in awe. ¡°What is this place?¡±

    ¡°This is the Undercity,¡± said Dronkal, ¡°built and paved over long ago.¡±

    ¡°Good getaways and hiding spots,¡± said Sweet Melissa. ¡°It¡¯s a labyrinth down here.¡±

    Something tickled Jeremiah¡¯s memory. ¡°Oh yeah. Aren¡¯t there kobolds too?¡±

    ¡°Not here,¡± said Shugga, ¡°There¡¯s another level deeper than this, that¡¯s where the kobolds live. They¡¯ll travel through here sometimes, but they¡¯ll leave you alone if you look dangerous.¡±

    Monty led them down ancient cobbled streets, Jeremiah strayed from the group, holding the torch aloft. One house harbored the ancient remains of a collapsed bed. A stove, rusted to oblivion, sat in the corner. An open door led further into the building and, raising the torch a little higher, Jeremiah could make out the shape of a human curled into a ball, mummified.

    Jeremiah¡¯s heart leapt in his chest. His throat tightened. He couldn¡¯t move. The man in the closet. So afraid. Trapped. Trapped in the dark.

    ¡°Jay!¡±

    He was yanked away from the window. His breath came back all at once and he panted like he¡¯d been drowning. ¡°I can¡¯t¡­I can¡¯t¡­¡± he wheezed.

    Monty walked over and put one immense hand on the side of Jeremiah¡¯s head, and two fingers against Jeremiah¡¯s throat. He pressed.

    Jeremiah woke up on the ground.

    ¡°You okay?¡± asked Shugga.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m okay.¡± Jeremiah struggled to his feet. ¡°Sometimes when I see people dead like that¡­it just brings back some bad memories. Ones I have a hard time getting rid of.¡±

    ¡°First thing you¡¯ve said that I believe,¡± said Monty. ¡°This way, we¡¯re almost to the safe house.¡±

    They continued down the forgotten road until Monty led them inside a dilapidated building. Several rooms deep, they encountered an intact wooden door, clearly newer than anything else down here. Monty ushered them inside.

    The safehouse contained a stack of bedrolls and a large metal chest. Monty closed the door behind them and barred it with an oaken plank.

    ¡°We stay the night,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯ll be hunting for us now. If we¡¯re found, kill anyone that lays eyes on this door. Food and water in the chest. Bandages too.¡±

    Dronkal pulled Jeremiah to sit beside the chest. As the others began unpacking bed rolls, he pulled a poultice and some bandages from the chest. ¡°Let¡¯s take a look at you.¡±

    He crouched beside Jeremiah, tilting his head this way and that to get a better look at the damage to Jeremiah¡¯s face. The sense that someone was caring for him seeped the adrenaline from Jeremiah¡¯s veins. ¡°Not bad for soloing an armored merc,¡± he said, dabbing the poultice onto some of the nastier bruises. ¡°Bet it still smarts, though.¡±

    ¡°Eh, not so bad,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°I¡¯ve seen my own guts pulled out before.¡±

    ¡°And you¡­lived?¡± asked Dronkal. He was blocking Jeremiah¡¯s view of the room, but there was a distinct pause in activity.

    Oops. ¡°I¡¯m exaggerating, I just took a cut to the guts once,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Back to the lying,¡± said Monty. ¡°Much better.¡±

    After Jeremiah¡¯s wounds had been dressed, they turned their attention to the stolen chest. The lock stood no chance alone in a room with five thieves. Inside were four bricks of a gray, clay-like substance wrapped in a thick cloth. ¡°Not bad,¡± said Monty.

    ¡°This is Dismal?¡± asked Jeremiah. ¡°What¡¯s it do?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a narcotic,¡± said Melissa. ¡°You can melt it and drizzle it over pipe weed to smoke. Makes you really sad.¡±

    ¡°What? Why would anyone do that?¡± asked Jeremiah. Bruno had skipped the lesson on narcotics, summarizing it only as, ¡°Try it if it¡¯ll make people think you¡¯re cool.¡± To which Delilah had responded, ¡°No¡±.

    ¡°Because afterwards you feel euphoric,¡± said Monty. ¡°Well, for a day or so, but then the sadness comes back, and stronger. So you need more Dismal. Eventually you can only ever feel happy when you¡¯re on it. Sells great.¡±

    Hearing that made Jeremiah feel a little bit awful, but there wasn¡¯t much he could do about it. Instead, indulged the question he was most curious about. ¡°So, how''d I do? I know I didn''t really  steal  anything, but we got it, right?¡±

    Monty was quiet for a long time, and while he sat silently so did the others. ¡°Admirably,¡± he said at last.

    ¡°Wooaaah,¡± said Shugga, Dronkal, and Sweet Melissa.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°Really?¡± It had been a long time since anyone had praised Jeremiah for anything he¡¯d done.

    Monty nodded. ¡°You assessed the situation. You determined your skill set wasn''t the appropriate response. You used what you had available to accomplish your goal. I''ve known others who''d try to do it on their own out of pride. You showed discretion and vision, and I appreciate that.

    Jeremiah nodded as well. Clearly it was definitely wisdom that carried the day, definitely not blind luck or a bumbling lack of creativity.

    ¡°So what now?¡± asked Jeremiah. ¡°Any more tests?¡±

    Monty smiled. ¡°Just your initiation.¡±

    The others whooped. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s going to be such a shit show,¡± said Dronkal.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said Shugga, ¡°it¡¯s basically a bar crawl.¡±

    ¡°Except it¡¯s more like a rampage!¡± said Sweet Melissa, bouncing with excitement.

    ¡°Enough,¡± said Monty. ¡°Bed down, get some rest. I¡¯ll take first watch.¡±

    They settled into their sleep sacks. As the torch was doused, Jeremiah asked, ¡°So if you guys can all see in the dark, how do you sleep? Isn¡¯t it like there¡¯s always a light on?¡±

    There were snickers around him. ¡°You close your eyes,¡± said Dronkal.

    ¡°You really can''t see in the dark?¡± asked Sweet Melissa.

    ¡°No, it''s pitch black.¡± Without the torch, the entire Undercity had no light at all.

    A few moments of silence, then the air near Jeremiah shifted. His ears strained, he swore he could heard something metallic scraping.

    ¡°Melissa,¡± said Monty in an authoritative tone.

    Jeremiah heard a sigh near his knees. ¡°Oh relax, I wasn''t really gonna do it.¡±

    No one spoke after that. Jeremiah drifted, and was prodded awake between the vague dreams that skirted up against memories.

    ¡°Your watch,¡± said Shugga¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Watch? I get to be on watch?¡± said Jeremiah. He was instantly awake, having never been asleep.

    ¡°Yes? I¡¯m sure as hell not taking it,¡± said Shugga.

    ¡°You realize I can¡¯t see?¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Your listen then. Wake up Dronkal in a couple hours.¡±

    They got up when Monty told them it was day. They made their way through the darkness and emerged from a trapdoor hidden in the backroom of a filthy pub, the owner turning pointedly away when he investigated the noises coming from his establishment.

    Monty clapped a hand on Jeremiah¡¯s shoulder as the others continued towards home. ¡°Good work, Jay. Keep it up.

    <hr>

    If Contact And Contact Heat.

    The metal scrap became hot enough to burn within moments. Jeremiah dropped the plate into the empty basin where it couldn¡¯t damage his bedding, and waited for the heat to destroy the enchantment so the plate could cool again.

    Alone in his room, Jeremiah had torn himself away from  Flesh  to work on Delilah¡¯s heat plate, as he thought of it. Only problem was, it still wasn¡¯t working.

    He tried If Contact And Contact Heat Gently.

    It jumped to scorching again. ¡°Right, right, right,¡± said Jeremiah shaking the pain out of his hands. The runes were in the wrong order. It acted the way it had before, instantly heating the metal, and then Gently was just sitting at the end doing nothing.

    If Contact And Contact Gently Heat.

    The first problem was solved and created a new one. Now it heated so slowly Jeremiah had to sit with his hands on the metal for several minutes before any change of temperature could be detected.

    ¡°At least I¡¯m getting lots of inscribing practice,¡± he said, scratching Gus under the chin. He was getting faster, which allowed him to test his ideas much more quickly. Unfortunately, he was starting to run out of plates.

    If Contact Heat If Heat Heat

    He charged the scrap and held it in front of him. The metal was charged, but remained cool, and would remain cool until he touched the Contact point.

    Jeremiah touched the point, then threw the scrap into the basin as it entered an infinite loop of heating itself until it warped and destroyed the enchantment. The wood of the basin bottom was beginning to become charred.

    He sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t think I know enough to do this¡­or anything for that matter.¡± He tossed his enchanting files aside and flopped backwards on the bed.  Flesh  was under his hand, like a sympathetic friend.

    Jeremiah patted the book. ¡°I just want to try one more thing first, okay? Then it¡¯s your turn.¡±

    Jay¡¯s last plate was a poorer shape than the others. In fact, he would have left it in its refuse pile if it weren¡¯t for an idea that had popped into his head after using Decay on the wood plank. Decay wasn¡¯t a rune he used often, barely even practiced. Enchantment was all about creating things and making them better, not making them worse.

    If Contact Gently Heat And Gently Decay.

    The dented and pockmarked plate of metal began to warm and soften. Keeping one hand on the Contact point, Jeremiah let the plate grow warm before pressing down on it as hard as he could against the floor. The metal, softened by heat and the rune of decay, started to flatten under his hands. Normally even such a thin metal would take require much higher temperatures to reshape, far too hot to touch, but Jeremiah suspected that the decay rune was doing the heavy lifting.

    When the heat started to reach intolerable temperatures, Jeremiah lifted his hands away, inactivating the diagram. The plate held its new, flatter shape. ¡°Hey, it worked!¡± Jeremiah said. Gus croaked his support.

    This opened up a world of possibility in terms of salvaging trash for enchantment practice. He looked at the plates he¡¯d already inscribed. ¡°Do you think we could use this to erase those? Cuts are sort of like little dents right? What if I¡­no wait, that would stop the Decay rune before I finished.¡±

    Gus croaked again and began kicking at Jeremiah, urging him on.

    ¡°The bridges! What if we bridge two plates together?! Like the recharging diagram!¡± With a burst of energy, Jeremiah picked up a used discarded plate, and aligned it alongside his newest creation.

    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s first get rid of that Heat rune,¡± said Jeremiah. Simple enough. He activated the Contact again on the newly flattened plate and struck the connecting line leading to Heat, severing it. He scratched a new line from the Contact to Decay, and wrote a new rune, Cohesion. The plate now read If Contact Gently Heat And Gently Decay And Cohesion.

    Placing a bridge between the two plates used a precious strand of gold wire, of which he had little left. ¡°Let¡¯s see if this works.¡±

    He touched the Contact and felt the two plates adhere to each other with a click. He waited. Decay on its own would ruin these plates in moments, he didn¡¯t know why Thurok made him learn it¡ª

    ¡° That only further proves your ignorance ,¡± said Thurok.

    ¡ªbut the Gently rune kept the process under control, if painfully slow. After almost ten minutes he reached over and rubbed his free hand across the surface of the trash plate. It was cold, but something felt¡­different. He pressed a finger down, and felt the barest sense of yielding. The metal was molding under his touch. He watched in wide eyed astonishment as the effect compounded. When next he wiped his hand across the surface of the discarded plate, all of the inscribed runes blurred and disappeared. Buffed out with just a touch.

    He removed his hand from the Contact, and the plates separated. He held up his new creation¡ªnothing. A blank plate, swept clean like a harvested field. Separate from the Decay rune, the metal rehardened to its normal unyielding form.

    ¡°I think this might be a big deal, buddy,¡± said Jeremiah. Gus closed his eyes and settled in for a satisfied nap.

 Chapter 30. Chaff

    Chapter 30. Chaff

    The day of his initiation, Jeremiah¡¯s cell mates forbade him from working. ¡°You¡¯ll have plenty of opportunity, don¡¯t worry,¡± said Shugga. ¡°What you gotta do now is rest up so you¡¯re ready for tonight.¡±

    He sat in the living room with them instead, deeply enjoying being indoors while it poured rain outside. Sweet Melissa looped a cord around Jeremiah¡¯s wrists, rapidly securing and releasing him. He watched with wonder as his freedom was summarily granted and snatched away again.

    Dronkal and Shugga were practicing with their new greatswords, integrating the two-handed weapons with their cooperative fighting style. Jeremiah wished he could show Allison.

    ¡°Anyway, I heard there¡¯s a red dragon living there now,¡± said Sweet Melissa, concluding a story about a distant trading post. She tossed a loop over Jeremiah¡¯s head, and in two quick motions trapped one of his hands as well. With a flick of her wrist, the knot collapsed around his throat.

    Sweet Melissa rested her head on her hand and looked at him wistfully. ¡°Just say when.¡±

    Jeremiah tried to speak. He instinctively tried to reach to loosen the rope around his neck, but was barely able to graze it with a fingertip. Meanwhile, the movement cinched the noose even tighter.

    Darkness threatened before Sweet Melissa sighed, and tugged a loose strand, undoing the entire setup.

    ¡°How¡¯d you learn so much about rope?¡± Jeremiah gasped. The cord practically came alive in her hands.

    ¡°My dad was a sailor, a real mean one,¡± said Sweet Melissa. ¡°But he had all the patience in the world to teach someone knots, so I made sure I was always interested. Made him keep his hands to himself at least.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you end up out here, Jay?¡± Shugga asked. The greatsword blades touched, and their practice started over.

    Jeremiah decided on a version of his history that was vague but true. ¡°Dad didn¡¯t like what I was getting up to. Kicked me out. Mom didn¡¯t say anything as I was headed out the door.¡±

    ¡°Bad home?¡± asked Shugga.

    ¡°Nah, they were good to me. Just didn¡¯t want what I wanted,¡± said Jeremiah. He could still remember the ¡®last straw¡¯ during an argument at the dinner table, when he had implied his father would die forgotten. His father, small as he was, had raged like a hurricane.

    There was an awkward silence.

    ¡°What?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Tough to imagine walking away from that,¡± said Dronkal.

    Jeremiah cringed inwardly. He cast around for a subject to change to. ¡°Hey, I was wondering, what¡¯s up with that house in the Pit? The one with a gold roof? Anyone live there?¡±

    Shugga chuckled. ¡°Already planning your first heist? You wouldn¡¯t be the first to be taken in.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°The Gilded Vault is one big shiny trap,¡± said Sweet Melissa. ¡°A guy named Cassidy Korrvas built it, just to kill dumb slips.¡±

    ¡°Dumb anybody, really,¡± said Dronkal. ¡°He used to be a gangster like us, but he was one of those who made it out. One of the very, very few. As soon as he built it, he issued an open invitation to any thief or crew who thinks they''re good enough to try for the personal horde of one of the greatest crime lords there¡¯s ever been.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been decades now,¡± said Shugga. ¡°Hundreds have gone in, not a soul has walked out.¡±

    ¡°He was a genius,¡± said Sweet Melissa. ¡°The stories I¡¯ve heard about some of the traps in there¡­¡±

    ¡°How did you hear stories if no one¡¯s ever escaped?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Shh!¡± said Sweet Melissa, batting him with a loop of rope. ¡°Let a girl dream.¡±

    ¡°Supposedly the treasure inside is the key to a better life,¡± said Dronkal. ¡°But like Shug said, it¡¯s been generations and nobody¡¯s ever gone in and lived to tell, so who knows. I think it¡¯s a bit of an eyesore, myself.¡±

    ¡°What about the guards?¡± Jeremiah had seen figures standing sentry on the roof.

    ¡°They won¡¯t stop you from going inside,¡± said Shugga. ¡°They just keep people from burning the place down and the like. You can walk in the front door or pick a lock all day long, but if you so much as scratch the glass, they kill on sight.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been, what, two years since someone had a go?¡± Dronkal asked.

    ¡°Two since someone made a big deal about it,¡± said Sweet Melissa, ¡°but people wander in to off themselves damn near weekly.¡±

    ¡°People kill themselves in it?¡± said Jeremiah.

    Sweet Melissa shrugged. ¡°Yeah, sometimes. Might as well take a chance at riches while you''re at it, right?¡±

    There was a light scratching at the door.

    ¡°Cat,¡± said Melissa.

    ¡°Got it,¡± said Shugga. He cracked the door and a small orange cat slinked inside.

    ¡°You have a cat?¡± asked Jeremiah. That explained the lack of rats in this immediate vicinity.

    ¡°This is Miggy, the Cell Four mascot,¡± Dronkal said, scooping her up, ¡°She¡¯s dumb, but she keeps the place clean. And she loves attention! Yes she does! Yes she does, my chubby little princess!¡±

    Jeremiah suddenly felt very alien in this space, the mundanity of their lives catching up with the lies he was presenting them. Comfortable as it was, this wasn¡¯t his place. He had to remember that.

    ¡°Oh, before I forget,¡± said Shugga, ¡°we should get Jay some proper clothes for tonight. I know this great seamstress who¡ª¡±

    ¡°Already done,¡± said Sweet Melissa. With a flourish, Jeremiah¡¯s arms were lashed to his legs.

    ¡°You bought me clothes?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Without consulting me?¡± gasped Shugga.

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Sweet Melissa. ¡°You look like a joke and I refuse to be seen with you.¡±

    She disappeared into to her room and returned with a bundled package. ¡°Consider it a welcome present. Made to measure.¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°How do you have my measurements?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you one guess,¡± said Sweet Melissa.

    ¡°You make me profoundly uncomfortable,¡± said Jeremiah.

    She leaned close. ¡°Go on¡­¡±

    ¡°Off,¡± said Dronkal, prodding Sweet Melissa away from Jeremiah with the flat of his blade.

    Jeremiah ran to his room and tried them on immediately. A simple fitted shirt and trousers, clean, new, and of adequate quality. Everything he needed. He¡¯d need to patch a pocket for Gus, but otherwise they were perfect.

    He skipped back downstairs, feeling a new man. ¡°How do I look?¡±

    ¡°Human,¡± said Dronkal. Everyone nodded. Jeremiah wasn¡¯t sure what that meant, but he was a human, so it sounded okay.

    ¡°Definitely human,¡± sighed Sweet Melissa. ¡°It¡¯s really tough to get away from that with just clothes.¡±

    ¡°It really is,¡± said Shugga with exasperation.

    Jeremiah turned to Sweet Melissa. ¡°Thank you. This means a lot.¡± It was slightly alarming how much the gift made him want to cry.

    ¡°You can put hands in the pockets!¡± said Melissa.

    Deep in The Pit, a gathering was in progress. The members of Cell Four walked Jeremiah down the stairs to the headquarters of The Pit Crew. Jeremiah took his cue from the others and adopted a dire expression, as though he were approaching his own execution. It seemed the right thing to do.

    The headquarters were packed, and not just with the brutes that Jeremiah had seen the last time. Complete with their own distinct smell, the majority of occupants were a motley collection of weary looking men and women. They wore the battered rags Jeremiah now recognized as belonging to those who lived rough.

    ¡°Who are they?¡± Jeremiah whispered to Shugga.

    ¡°The Cell Four subordinates. Subbies,¡± Shugga whispered back.

    ¡°They¡¯re the dregs,¡± added Sweet Melissa, ¡°every gang has them. Useful as hands and not much else. Don''t bother learning their names.¡±

    The subbies kept a pointed distance from Cell Four as they waited. Jeremiah was about to ask what they were waiting for when Monty strode in.

    The subs cowered before their king as Monty¡¯s voice boomed around the room. ¡°Tonight, our newest member Jay is to undergo his initiation as a member of Cell Four.¡±

    One of the subs, a halfling woman who was already drunk called out. ¡°Oi! I¡¯ve been busting my ass for two years, that spot was supposed to be mine! Now you just give it away to some new meat? My son and I were counting on¡ª¡±

    ¡°I got it,¡± said Dronkal. He crossed the room in a few quick strides. The woman cowered before him and raised her hands in defense as he raised his truncheon and dashed her across the forehead. The woman took the blow in silence. The other subs averted their eyes.

    Monty continued as though he hadn¡¯t been interrupted. ¡°As always, he is stripped of status and must comply with any order, whim or suggestion from any of you, unless vetoed by a cell member, until the initiation is complete.¡± He paused, smiling slightly. ¡°I¡¯ve decided I will be joining you all for at least the beginning of the event, so I expect you all to show me the meaning of a Stonefist party.¡±

    The subs cheered, and Shugga clapped Jeremiah on the back. ¡°Get ready for a wild night!¡±

    But Jeremiah kept thinking about what that sub had said.  My son and I.  ¡°Hey, do a lot of Subs have kids?¡± he asked.

    Shugga answered. ¡°I think a few? Like we said, don¡¯t worry about the Subs. They¡¯re chaff, they come and go between gangs all the time. The strongest and smartest of them get out and become made. Proper members, that is.¡±

    ¡°And the rest?¡±

    ¡°They stay Subs,¡± said Dronkal. ¡°They¡¯re too dumb or weak to be anything useful.¡±

    ¡°Something wrong Jay?¡± asked Shugga. He put affectionate arm around Jeremiah¡¯s shoulder.

    Jeremiah shrugged off the arm with a jerk, ¡°They¡¯re still people! Being dumb or weak shouldn¡¯t matter.¡±

    ¡°If they really want out, they can get out,¡± said Shugga. ¡°Take Dronk and me. We¡¯re bigger and stronger than most of the trash out there, but definitely not the biggest.¡±

    ¡°Definitely not the biggest,¡± echoed Dronkal. He seemed sour about the fact.

    ¡°But I got recruited into the gang by Monty,¡± continued Shugga. ¡°He watched my brawl in a pub and made me a sub. I worked my way up and eventually joined my Cell. I started from nothing and here I am, a made man.¡±

    Dronkal said, ¡°I was with the Bricks for ages, but those guys are nuts, it''s all brutality with them. So I made the hard choice to break off and join the Stonefists.¡±

    Jeremiah looked around, half expecting Sweet Melissa to appear and tell her own story. Shugga followed his gaze and told him, ¡°Sweet Melissa is¡­special?¡± He looked to Dronkal, who shuddered. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s a special case.¡±

    ¡°And what would have happened to you if Monty hadn¡¯t been in that pub?¡± Jeremiah asked. He couldn¡¯t quell the ember of anger in his chest.

    Shugga shrugged, ¡°No idea. Probably wouldn¡¯t be a Stonefist.¡±

    ¡°Exactly, it was luck. Sure, you can fight, but it was for luck you got here in the first place. Same for me, I¡¯m only here cause Pete found me.¡± Jeremiah felt his voice starting to rise.

    Shugga and Dronkal exchanged another look. ¡°So, first of all,¡± Shugga slugged Jeremiah right across the sternum with his truncheon. It didn¡¯t hurt like getting hit on a bone, but his heart did something in his chest that scared him. ¡°Don¡¯t presume to discount what Dronk or I went through to get here.¡±

    ¡°Second,¡± Shugga continued, and Dronkal rapped Jeremiah in the shin, causing him to cry out in pain. ¡°Best remember that you¡¯re not shit yet. We like you, thats why you only got a love tap. But we don¡¯t owe you anything. Understand?¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Jeremiah hissed through clenched teeth, ¡°Too cozy.¡± He rubbed his shin.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± said Shugga, stowing the baton, ¡°feel free to devote your time catering to the Subs if you want. See how it comes back to you.¡±

    ¡°Pay attention,¡±  said Vivica. Why was he thinking of her now?

    ¡°You guys have kids?¡± Jeremiah asked.

    ¡°No,¡± said Shugga.

    ¡°I have a boy somewhere,¡± said Dronkal.

    Shugga looked startled. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that.¡±

    ¡°He would be about four now,¡± said Dronkal. ¡°Lives way out east by the ocean with his mum. Last I heard, anyways.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you ever tell me?¡± asked Shugga.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter much, does it? I just send a couple silvers now and then. He¡¯s better off without me anyway, no kid needs a thug like me as a dad.¡±

    Monty appeared then, interrupting the daggers Shugga was starting at Dronkal. ¡°Come on gentlemen, you¡¯re holding up the festivities.¡± He wore a genial smile, authentic and warm, that fully reached his eyes.

    He fixed Jeremiah¡¯s gaze with his own, maintaining the kindly smile. ¡°What do you say, Jay? This is your night. I want the Stonefists to feel like  home.  A place of  safety . A place to  rest . Where  family  lives. Where  you  live.¡± His voice was low, almost mumbling, except for the words he stressed.

    ¡°Um,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Yeah, sure. Let¡¯s go, everyone!¡±

    And to his surprise, there arose another cheer around him.

 Chapter 31. Fear

    Chapter 31. Fear

    They¡¯d stopped at a bar in the slums for the first round, but now the group of clamoring Stonefists made their way towards the heart of the city, where Jeremiah had stayed in those early weeks. The subs gleefully ordered Jeremiah to do things as they walked that ranged from silly to criminal, though nothing more serious than stealing small items from the shops they passed. Nobody dared protest with the dozens of Stonefists cavorting about, and guards turned a blind eye to a problem that was far more trouble than it was worth.

    Yet, as they walked, Jeremiah found himself growing more and more anxious. He kept glancing over his shoulder, expecting to see Cutter¡¯s maniacal grin, Cutter¡¯s flashing blade. The Stonefists would watch while Cutter tore into Jeremiah, laugh and wonder why he was too weak to defend himself.

    ¡°What¡¯s got into you?¡± asked Sweet Melissa after Jeremiah performed his best attempt at a tap dance without cracking a smile.

    Jeremiah was surprised to see genuine concern on her face. It was nearly enough to make him spill right there and then. ¡°Nothing,¡± he said instead.

    ¡°Hold!¡± The group stopped at Sweet Melissa¡¯s command. With a flick of her wrist, she lassoed his neck and pulled him to his knees. It was a  very  aggressive way to get him on her eye level. ¡°Jay, I order you to tell me what¡¯s wrong.¡±

    Jeremiah¡¯s breath caught in his chest, he didn¡¯t know he was going to say it until he said it, ¡°There was¡­this guy. Cutter. I might owe him money? He nearly killed me. He might¡­nevermind. It¡¯s not the your problem.¡±

    ¡°Jay, you¡¯re a Stonefist now. Your problems are our problems,¡± said Dronkal. ¡°Where can we find him?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I know, like, four different Cutters,¡± said Shugga.

    ¡°By Prim¡¯s Laundry,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°but really, you don¡¯t need to do anything.¡± It was fear talking. Part of Jeremiah wanted, on an instinctual level, to stay as far from Cutter as possible.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be dumb,¡± said Dronkal. ¡°No slip of mine going to be scared of some shitless bully too pathetic to join a real gang.¡±

    ¡°War party, roll up!¡± shouted Shugga. The subs scrambled to attention, whooping and hollering.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± came Monty¡¯s voice. He''d been lagging behind the hoard of Stonefists, settling bar debts and keeping a watchful eye over his gang.

    ¡°We¡¯re gonna rough up some topsider who gave Jay a bad time,¡± said Sweet Melissa. ¡°You coming, boss?¡±

    The subs quieted to hear his response. ¡°Well¡­¡± said Monty.

    ¡°Oh he''s thinking about it! He''s thinking about it!¡±

    ¡°C''mon boss when''s the last time you ran the road with us?¡±

    The subs excitement grew and grew as Monty weighed the invitation.

    ¡°Oh, what the heck.¡±

    The subs cheered. ¡°C¡¯mon, Jay,¡± said Sweet Melissa, ¡°Let''s go do violence.¡±

    The initiation-turned-war party followed Cell Four through the streets. Even the dusk-time insufferable crowds of workers hurrying home afforded the group a respectable berth.

    As they turned towards Prim¡¯s, Sweet Melissa spoke. ¡°Everyone know the plan?¡±

    ¡°What? No, what plan?¡± asked Jeremiah. His heart was racing, and only partially from excitement. Even surrounded by Stonefists, a deep terror within his mind begged him to flee.

    ¡°For the last time, you have to tell us out loud if you think of a plan,¡± said Shugga.

    ¡°Oh! Right, sorry. The plan isn¡¯t special¡ªwe run in and beat the hell out of everyone.¡±

    ¡°Works for me,¡± said Shugga.

    ¡°Boss, we going lethal?¡± Dronkal asked.

    Monty considered, then shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of them, and they¡¯re topsiders¡ªthey¡¯ll piss themselves as soon as look at us. Don¡¯t kill them unless you have to.¡±

    Sweet Melissa kicked a stone in frustration.

    ¡°Form up!¡± Dronkal shouted so the subbies could hear. ¡°If they¡¯ve got a guard in that alley, I want him overrun with no hesitation. Go hard, don¡¯t stop til they know what¡¯s up!¡±

    Real and improvised weapons began to appear in the subs¡¯ hands. They jostled each other, riling each other up. Some seemed excited, some nervous, but none seemed as nervous as Jeremiah.

    ¡°You¡¯re leading the charge,¡± Dronkal said to Jeremiah.

    ¡°I-I am? Why?¡± asked Jeremiah. The instinctive fear suddenly spiked. He felt sick.

    ¡°Because this is your fight. I want you to earn this. Need a weapon?¡±

    ¡°Got a wrist wrap?¡± Jeremiah managed to choke out. He didn¡¯t trust himself not to fumble a knife.

    ¡°Fuck yeah, I do,¡± said Dronkal. He wrapped Jeremiah¡¯s hands in two strips of brown scrap leather, cracked and worn. They made Jeremiah¡¯s hands throb, but his fists felt like two heavy rocks at the end of his arms. They made him feel stronger.

    They approached the final corner before Cutter¡¯s lot. Jeremiah¡¯s heart was pounding wildly, adrenaline supercharging the admixture of terror, bloodthirst, and exhilaration swirling through him.

    ¡°Go! Go! Go!¡± Jeremiah shouted, and broke into a sprint before his legs could decide otherwise.

    Blood pumped in his ears. The lot came into view, and Jeremiah saw his first targets near the entrance. One sat, fiddling with a carving knife, the other leaned against a wall. They didn¡¯t notice Jeremiah until it was too late.

    ¡°Rail him,¡±  said Allison.

    Jeremiah swung recklessly at the leaning man. The blow connected right at the tip of the chin, exactly as Allison had taught him. The man¡¯s head wrenched sideways, but Jeremiah was already onto the next, and kicked the seated guard in the head before he could stand. Both were out.

    Jeremiah charged into the lot. Cutter¡¯s gang were in their repose, drunk and lounging, like they had been frozen in time until this moment.

    Noises to his left and right told Jeremiah the Stonefists had arrived, charging into combat all around him, but Jeremiah could see only Cutter, rising to his feet from where he had been crouching, throwing dice.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Cutter, the demon from Jeremiah¡¯s nightmares. Cutter, the face of Elminia¡¯s cruelty.

    Jeremiah collided with him at a dead sprint, driving the Cutter into the ground. His fists swung, not with trained precision but with primal fury. He felt the impact in his hands as though from a hundred yards away, something out of a dream.

    More. Harder. It would never be enough.

    Cutter was barely taller than Jeremiah, but he was stronger and had a lifetime more brutal experience. Even as Jeremiah¡¯s blows rained down on him, he planted his feet and shoved, flipping their positions and pinning Jeremiah.

    Only then did Cutter seem to notice the chaos in the lot. Dozens of fights surrounded them, Stonefists crashing into Cutter¡¯s hapless men with gleeful violence.

    Cutter¡¯s eyes darted back and forth like a cornered animal, searching for an escape route. Finding none, they fell upon Jeremiah. He let out a guttural scream.

    Cutter began raining blows down on Jeremiah, dropping elbow strikes as well as punches. Jeremiah tried to swing back, but his position robbed his attacks of any strength. Jeremiah suffered blow after blow that rattled his senses, until Cutter was suddenly yanked off of him.

    Jeremiah struggled to his feet, and was grabbed from behind and steadied by Shugga. He tried to shove the half-orc off, but Shugga¡¯s arms enclosed Jeremiah in a bear hug, restraining him.

    ¡°Let me go! ¡± screamed Jeremiah, he wanted to keep fighting. Even if Cutter was going to win, he wanted to hurt him just one more time.

    ¡°Nah, slip,¡± said Shugga, ¡°man just drew the short straw.¡±

    Monty stood in front of Cutter, relaxed and waiting patiently. He was unarmed, but for those massive hands. Cutter growled, raising his fists, and Monty nodded toward Cutter¡¯s short sword, reminding him.

    Cutter pulled the sword and lunged towards Monty. Monty caught the blade with one mighty forearm, letting it slice flesh without even flinching. In the same motion, he reached towards Cutter and slapped him with an open hand so hard it sounded like a whip crack. Cutter spun on toes like a dancer and flopped down in the dirt.

    Monty knelt alongside Cutter, who struggled to crawl away. He gripped Cutter¡¯s face with one hand, flipped him onto his back, and held him there, covering his mouth and nose.

    Cutter stiffened. He clawed at Monty¡¯s hand, beat frantically at it. His eyes bulged, and all of his limbs flailed in a desperate attempt to hurt Monty. Then his struggle weakened, and a sickening quiver ran through his body.

    Monty let go.

    Cutter gasped for breath, coughing and sputtering. Monty returned the hand. Cutter fight was weaker and shorter this time. He spasmed, quivered, and Monty let go.

    Jeremiah watched in awe as Monty dispassionately brought Cutter near death again and again, letting him glimpse oblivion for tiny moments, before pulling him back. Cutter¡¯s strength grew less and less with each journey, Monty always giving him back enough to fight just a little, just enough so it didn¡¯t matter.

    ¡°S-stop,¡± Cutter gasped.

    ¡°You¡¯re asking me?¡± Monty looked to his left and right, as though looking for someone else.

    ¡°You b-bitch, stop,¡± Cutter said.

    The hand returned.

    ¡°Not sure why you¡¯re asking me,¡± said Monty. The hand released.

    ¡°I¡¯m done,¡± said Cutter. ¡°Stop.¡±

    The hand returned.

    ¡°Problem is, I dont think  he''s  done.¡± Monty pointed to Jeremiah. ¡°See, he''s the one calling the shots now. So you let him know you want to stop.¡±

    Monty was handing Jeremiah power. He''d kill Cutter, if Jeremiah told him too. There was no question. Would that be so bad? Would the world really suffer Cutter''s loss?

    The hand released. Cutter gasped again. ¡°Stop.¡± Still directed at Monty.

    The hand returned. ¡°Why isn''t there a building here? This is good real estate,¡± said Monty, taking in the open lot.

    The hand released.

    ¡°Fu-¡±

    The hand returned.

    Shugga let Jeremiah go. He approached Monty and cutter.

    The hand released.

    ¡°Stop,¡± Cutter wheezed at Jeremiah. Bruises were forming over his face where Monty gripped him.

    ¡°No,¡± said Jeremiah.

    The hand returned.

    ¡°You didn''t stop. Why should I?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    The hand released.

    ¡°I''ll¡­I''ll kill you.¡± Cutter glared at Jeremiah.

    ¡°That so?¡± said Jeremiah. He nodded at Monty

    The hand returned.  His  hand returned.

    His hand released.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t give me much incentive to keep you alive, really,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Cutter coughed and a spurt of blood came up. ¡°Please stop, you piece of shit.¡±

    His hand returned.

    ¡°Is that all?¡± Jeremiah was furious. He wanted whimpering, he wanted terror, he wanted Cutter to beg and plead and see the error of his ways. Instead he was getting idiotic defiance in the face of imminent, and entirely avoidable, death.

    Jeremiah wondered why he didn¡¯t feel pity. Perhaps a better man would have. All he saw was a problem to be solved.

    ¡°What do I do with you, Cutter?¡± He picked up Cutter¡¯s shortsword, lying forgotten in the dirt.

    His hand released.

    ¡°Weak¡­¡± Foamy blood ran down Cutter¡¯s cheek.

    Jeremiah laughed. ¡°Weak? Yeah, maybe. I suppose a weak man would just stick you deep in the neck and be done with this problem.¡±

    ¡°You''re a problem. You''re a problem I can solve right now,¡± Jeremiah thought. ¡°I wouldn''t have to be afraid of you anymore. It¡¯d be so easy. I¡¯d open you right up and watch you deflate. I¡¯d sit here until every last drop of life left you and I¡¯d savor every moment.¡± Jeremiah pressed the tip of the knife against Cutter¡¯s neck, right at the pulse. ¡°It would feel so good. All the world would thank me, if they only knew you.¡±

    Jeremiah used two hands to grip the handle of the dagger. Just one little push, and he could let nature take its course. Or why bother? Why not let Monty do it? Jeremiah could keep his own hands clean and not lose a moment of sleep over it.

    ¡°Don''t do it,¡±  said the voice of everyone he had ever known and cared about, said his own voice, a young boy who wanted to be special when he was too naive to know what that meant.

    ¡°But I''m a strong man,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°And a strong man knows when to forgive.¡± He patted Cutter on the cheek and stood. ¡°Sweet Melissa?¡±

    Sweet Mellissa appeared at Jeremiah''s side, practically vibrating with excitement, ¡°Yeah, Jay?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to tell you how to do your job,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°but I don''t want him to ever be able to make a fist again.¡±

    Melissa squealed in delight, prancing from foot to foot. ¡°I knew you were such a good idea!¡±

    ¡°B-but you said¡­¡± gagged, looking back and forth between Jeremiah and Melissa.

    ¡°Nobody''s perfect, Cutter.¡±

 Chapter 32. Pressure

    Chapter 32. Pressure

    The Stonefists moved as a single raucous mass with Jeremiah at the center. He felt there was nothing he couldn''t do. Bars were open to him, alleys no longer contained monsters. Monty had given him power over Cutter, power over fear, power over life itself.

    ¡°Bar!¡± someone yelled. The horde cheered and stormed the nearest unfortunate establishment, The Frollicking Frog. They threw down some money, but soon started sneaking drinks from behind the counter.

    Jeremiah was sent to snag a bottle of brandy from the top shelf. He surprised himself by hurling an empty glass across the room, leaping the counter, seizing the bottle, and returning to the others before the harried bartender had even finished investigating the new crash.

    The horde exited as abruptly as it had entered. Monty lingered, speaking calmly with the furious proprietor.

    Monty rested a hand on Jeremiah¡¯s shoulder as they caroused their way back onto the street. ¡°Well done back there. It¡¯s good to have you in the  family .¡± Then he pointed down a side street. "That way.¡±

    It was the first direction he¡¯d given since they¡¯d left, and the subs cheered at their leader¡¯s participation. They crashed bar after bar, sometimes downing a few drinks, sometimes staying only long enough to make everyone uncomfortable. Jeremiah was buoyed by the energy, by being part of something, by having  fun . He felt invincible.

    Monty¡¯s directions became more frequent, and more precise, dictating exactly where they would go. Jeremiah could sense Monty watching him, but he was enjoying himself too much to be concerned. What did it matter to him which bars the gang ransacked?

    It took several more bars for Jeremiah to realize they were nearing the safe house where Allison, Delilah, and Bruno lived. With every order from Monty, they were closing in. Jeremiah wasn¡¯t sure if it was intentional or coincidence. His friends could be trusted to keep his cover safe, should he run into them, but¡­no, there was no danger.

    ¡°This way,¡± said Monty, and the pack turned. Closer.

    Wait, what just happened ? Jeremiah tried to think back, but he was soon swept along to the next establishment, The Charging Bull. He was made to climb on the table of a couple and dance a jig without disturbing their drinks. The couple¡¯s response, like most people¡¯s to their antics, was to quietly suffer the injustice in the face of a ferocious looking gang.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± said Monty.

    The subs¡¯ jubilation was briefly stunted. ¡°But boss, we ain¡¯t even got our drinks¡ª¡± Dronkal¡¯s truncheon corrected the complaint.

    They spilled back onto the street. Jeremiah looked towards Monty, and found Monty looking right back at him. A dozen paces away, arms folded, observing. ¡° I don¡¯t know how you¡¯re doing it, but I know what you¡¯re doing, ¡± thought Jeremiah. He was determined not to give away any information.

    ¡°That way,¡± said Monty.

    What? How? Jeremiah thought back as the group pushed him on, and it became clear. He glanced, he had definitely glanced just as he was thinking about where he didn¡¯t   want to go. Well, that was no problem.

    At the next cross road, and Jeremiah gave a surreptitious glance in the opposite direction.

    ¡°Over here,¡± said Monty, indicating the correct way.

    Another bar, The Verbing Animal. Jeremiah found the lack of naming creativity particularly creative. Monty¡¯s behavior was different in the bar¡ªhe was no longer watching Jeremiah, he now looked wherever Jeremiah was looking. Which, Jeremiah realized, was at the patrons to make sure Bruno, Delilah, or Allison weren¡¯t there.

    ¡°Drink this!¡± A sub shoved a tankard into Jeremiah¡¯s hands. It swam with different hues and featured greasy film on the top and tiny mysterious particles bobbed upwards before disappearing back into obscurity. The horrible drink was a blessing¡ªif he was too drunk to realize where he was, Monty wouldn¡¯t be able to glean information from him.

    ¡°The hell is that?¡± asked Dronkal.

    ¡°Allsorts,¡± said the sub. Mix of all the leftovers people don¡¯t drink.¡±

    ¡°Veto,¡± said Monty. He snatched the tankard from Jeremiah just before he could down it. Monty sniffed allsorts and ventured a sip. ¡°Not bad, though.¡±

    ¡° He¡¯s keeping me sober, ¡± thought Jeremiah. ¡° There goes that idea. ¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± said Monty.

    Street by street, block by block, they closed in. Jeremiah tried every trick he could think of, to no avail. Closing his eyes, looking rapidly in all directions, trying to look the right way in the same way he had looked the opposite way didn¡¯t work, and was also difficult.

    Soon, they were on the same block as the safe house.

    ¡°In here,¡± said Monty. The Rambling Owl. They were across the street from the safe house, in the very bar Jeremiah had stopped in himself occasionally when he lived here. It was a spacious inn, more of a restaurant with a few rooms to rent upstairs. The subs spread out in their typical fashion while Jeremiah, his cell mates, and Monty grabbed a more central table.

    Jeremiah kept his head down, worried his reaction would be obvious if he spotted one of his friends. Then he realized keeping his head down  was  an obvious reaction. Monty was watching him from across the table, the tankard of allsorts still in his grip.

    ¡°Something wrong, Jay?¡± asked Monty.

    Jeremiah panicked. What was the right answer? ¡°No.¡±

    Definitely the wrong answer.

    ¡°What do you think about that girl over there?¡± asked Monty, gesturing with his tankard.

    Jeremiah followed the motion, and it led him right to Delilah. She was seated by the window, a glass of wine and accompanying bottle her only company, and reading a stack of papers. Likely more legal correspondence.

    ¡°She looks sad,¡±  thought Jeremiah. Delilah was slumped on her hand. She picked up the wine glass and almost took a drink, but the wine glass never quite made it to her mouth.

    ¡°What about her?¡± Jeremiah asked.

    ¡°She¡¯s pretty, ain¡¯t she?¡± said Monty. Dronkal and Shugga were now looking as well.

    ¡°Suppose so,¡± said Jeremiah. Didn¡¯t have to lie about that at least.

    ¡°Out of towner,¡± said Monty. ¡°Like you.¡±

    ¡°How do you figure?¡± asked Jeremiah. He tried to feign the perfect balance of curiosity and disinterest.

    ¡°Skin¡¯s too light,¡± said Monty. ¡°She doesn¡¯t have that healthy Elminian duskiness from the soot. Stains the skin like a tattoo.¡±

    ¡°So what?¡± asked Jeremiah. ¡°Want me to steal the wine? Rob her?¡±

    ¡°Nah, I want you to bring her over here.¡± Monty kept nodding in her direction, like he was agreeing with a private thought of his own.

    This was bad, as bad as it got. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like she¡¯s in the mood to chat,¡± said Jeremiah, trying to hide his panic.

    ¡°Convince her,¡± said Monty.

    ¡°Get to it, Jay,¡± said Dronkal.

    ¡°Yeah, you got the look,¡± said Shugga. ¡°Go charm a little.¡±

    ¡° What do I say to her? ¡± wondered Jeremiah as he approached Delilah¡¯s table. ¡° How do I explain the situation? How do I¡­ ¡± Jeremiah caught his reflection in a mirror behind the bar. He looked good, he really did. A bruise on his face made him look daring. He was a made man now. He felt good. He flashed the mirror a winning smile.

    As Jeremiah neared her table, Delilah turned that same sad expression towards him. He flashed that smile again. ¡°Now, what is¡ª¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any money,¡± she said. She gave no indication of anything besides wanting to be left alone.

    ¡°Wow!¡± said Jeremiah. He collapsed in the other chair at her table like he¡¯d been wounded. ¡°You went right for the kill. You didn¡¯t even hesitate. You must really want me to go away.¡±

    ¡°Correct.¡± The look she fixed him with was ice cold.

    ¡°Well, I came over because I thought you looked kinda miserable. We¡¯re having a nice night over there, maybe you can join us, have a few drinks on us, relax a little. Maybe get your mind off of whatever has you looking so down.¡±

    ¡°Not interested.¡±

    ¡°Of course not. You¡¯re by yourself with a bottle of wine. You¡¯ve got letters, but you¡¯re not really reading them. Bad news, but you already know what they say. Am I right?¡±

    ¡°¡­Yes.¡±

    She answered a question! Despite the danger, this was surprisingly fun.

    Jeremiah leaned across the table. ¡°Those words won¡¯t change. If you want to let them ruin your night too, fine. Keep looking at them. But maybe, just maybe, you can still have a nice night, if you let yourself. So I¡¯m inviting you to come be the center of attention for a while. I won¡¯t keep you if you want to leave. What do you say?¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Delilah just stared at him, brow furrowing. ¡°No, thank you.¡±

    Jeremiah held up his hands. ¡°No problem. Hope the wine treats you well.¡± He left her table and returned to his own.

    ¡°Hard luck,¡± said Dronkal.

    ¡°Half-elves are a fickle lot, huh?¡± said Monty.

    ¡°Can¡¯t win ¡®em all,¡± said Jeremiah a shrug.

    ¡°Nah, you did good,¡± said Shugga. ¡°Just wait¡­wait for it¡­don¡¯t look¡­¡±

    ¡°Offer still open?¡± asked Delilah. She appeared behind Jeremiah and placed a hand on his shoulder.

    He smiled up at her. ¡°Just for you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Delilah,¡± she said, sitting.

    ¡°Beautiful name. I¡¯m Jay, this is Dronkal, Shugga, and sourpus over there is Monty.¡±

    ¡°And all these?¡± Delilah asked, gesturing to the frenzy of Subs.

    ¡°Aspirants to a community organization,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Oi! Jay!¡± yelled a Sub, ¡°Come here and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Veto,¡± said Monty. The sub was smart enough to immediately turn away. They kept to themselves after that.

    ¡°Tell us about yourself, Delilah, what brings you around here?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Studying to be a defense counselor, actually,¡± said Delilah. ¡°Would I be wrong to assume I might see some of you or your ¡®aspirants¡¯ on a more professional basis someday?¡±

    ¡°If jail time is what it would take to see you again, it''d be worth it,¡± said Jeremiah. She rolled her eyes, but smiled at the cheesy line. ¡°But yeah, that might be true.¡±

    ¡°On that note, can I run something by you, Counselor?¡± Shugga asked.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not a Counselor yet,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°You¡¯d be doing the Stonefists a service,¡± said Monty, ¡°and we¡¯d be sure to remember you. Wouldn¡¯t we, Jay?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s already worth remembering,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°But really, no pressure if you¡¯d rather not.¡±

    Delilah hemmed and hawed, but finally relented. ¡°Alright, what¡¯s the problem?¡±

    ¡°Okay, so I¡¯ve got a friend whose considering a plea bargain to bring an assault charge down to a breaking and entering charge. But the thing is she  did  break into the place, but she  didn¡¯t  assault the guy.¡±

    ¡°Oh, hell no.¡± Delilah sat straight pivoted towards Shugga. ¡°That prosecutor is overbidding and trying to get her to just accept the proper charge. Here¡¯s what she needs to do¡­¡±

    It had been at least an hour, and all semblance of control had been ceded to the court of Delilah.

    ¡°No, they''re bullshitting you.¡± A dozen subs were gathered around Delilah. ¡°The guard corp is not bound to any promises they make. Only prosecution can do that.

    ¡°But they said if I don¡¯t sign, it might be months before I can see a counselor!¡± He spoke with such fear Jeremiah felt a compulsion to help him. ¡°My girl is at home alone, she cant take of herself without me.¡±

    ¡°No! Never sign anything. All of you hear that? No matter what they say to you, never sign anything! They''ll pin any case they want on you. And its legal, its all  fucking  legal!¡± Delilah slammed her glass and the stem snapped, sending wine across the table. ¡°Shit!¡±

    A dozen hands jumped to her aid, mopping up wine with rags and sleeves before it could spill into her lap.

    Monty had been as enraptured as anyone, but he finally spoke up. ¡°Would you be interested in work? My crew could use legal representation across the board.¡±

    ¡°I can''t, I''m not certified. Besides there are public barristers assigned to your area you can use,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°They''re long since bought,¡± said Monty. ¡°We can put you through law school and more besides.¡±

    Delilah shook her head, ¡°Sorry. I really can''t.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure, I understand. How long have you known Jay?¡±

    Jeremiah''s heart leapt in his chest. He had been so at ease, and the question was asked so casually¡­

    ¡°A few seconds longer than I''ve known you,¡± said Delilah.

    Right, that was never going to work on her. ¡°Best few seconds I ever spent,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°You don¡¯t mind coming on a strong, that¡¯s for sure,¡± Delilah said. The crowd laughed at his expense.

    ¡°I just think you¡¯re worth the risk,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Risk? What risk?¡± asked Delilah. She seemed genuinely puzzled.

    ¡°It¡¯s rough, getting embarrassed in front of all your friends. But I¡¯d hate for pride to get between me and a girl like you.¡± Yeah, Delilah would be into the humble approach.

    ¡°Oh? And what¡¯s a girl to do with a man with no pride?¡±

    Not the direction he thought she¡¯d go. He wasn¡¯t even sure of the exact definition of pride. Time to improvise. ¡°Let your guard down.¡±

    She raised her eyebrows. ¡°Let my guard down?¡±

    The table went quiet.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. A guy who puts aside his pride for you will do what¡¯s best for you. Even at his own expense.¡± Jeremiah hoped delivering that line with bravado would make up for it not making sense.

    Delilah rewarded him with a smile. ¡°I¡¯ll give you that it¡¯s new. I deal with a lot of prideful men in my line of work.¡±

    ¡°And tonight is certainly a night you deserve something new.¡±

    There were some snickers around the table.

    ¡°Oh, so you think tonight is a good night for  you,  huh?¡± she asked.

    She gave him no choice. He leaned in and locked eyes with her. ¡°Absolutely.¡±

    The playful smile dropped from her face for just a second before coming back. To Jeremiah¡¯s delight, she squirmed a bit and pushed him back, ¡°Get outta here with that!¡± she laughed.

    The crowd whooped and hollered.

    Jeremiah felt good. Actually, he felt great. Delilah was playing her part flawlessly and was proving very fun to flirt with.

    ¡°So Jay, how long have you known Delilah?¡± asked Monty suddenly.

    ¡°A few yinutes,¡± said Jeremiah. Years had almost left his mouth, almost.

    ¡°You two are hitting it off well,¡± Monty continued, ¡°I think you¡¯ve got her hooked Jay.¡±

    Delilah fixed Monty with a cold glare. ¡°It¡¯s certainly not  your  place to say,¡±

    ¡°And why shouldn¡¯t it be?¡± said Monty. He was scowling at her now.

    ¡°Uh, boss, don¡¯t you think this is a little¡­weird?¡± said Shugga, looking apologetically at Delilah.

    ¡°Not at all,¡± said Monty. He was overreaching, Jeremiah realized, frustrated his trap hadn¡¯t sprung. Maybe even questioning if there was anything to trap in the first place.

    ¡°I think we¡¯re done here,¡± said Delilah. ¡°It was a pleasure to meet you all.¡±

    ¡°Indeed we are.¡± Jeremiah stood as well. ¡°Goodnight, everyone.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Delilah¡¯s voice carried a low threat.

    ¡°I¡¯m at least walking you home, it¡¯s not safe out there right now.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s really not,¡± said Dronkal.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want any part in your gang initiation, or whatever this is,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Come on, boss, don¡¯t scare the talent,¡± said another sub.

    ¡°I-uh,¡± Monty stalled, he looked at the subs now willing to meet his gaze, and the cell members that wouldn¡¯t. ¡°I was making a joke. It was in poor taste. My apologies, Delilah. Jay.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t accept your apology, but thank you for offering it,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°May I still walk you home?¡± Jeremiah asked, offering an arm.

    ¡°You may,¡± said Delilah, taking it.

    They walked to the door arm in arm, stoic and distinguished.

    ¡°Oi, fellas! Jay¡¯s gonna get him some!¡± screamed a sub. The bar erupted in a cheer and subs started getting up to follow them.

    ¡°I¡­don¡¯t live far,¡± said Delilah. She was trying to maintain a straight face despite the absurdity of their escort.

    ¡°I¡¯ll walk you every step of the way,¡± said Jeremiah. The subs were following them like ducklings, still cheering and shouting encouragement to Jay.

    Delilah lead Jeremiah, arm in arm still, to the door across the street.

    ¡°Just here,¡± she said, ¡°top floor.¡±

    ¡°Every step,¡± said Jeremiah.

    A cute smile played over Delilah¡¯s lips. They entered the building, the door bouncing behind them as the subs followed them through. A continuous stream of encouragement and lewd suggestions chased them up the stairs to Delilah¡¯s door. They gathered on the landing and watched Delilah and Jar from the corner, their faces alight with anticipation.

    Delilah stood with her back to the door and faced Jeremiah. ¡°Well, here we are.¡±

    ¡°I think we¡¯ve been followed,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Delilah giggled. Had he ever heard that before?

    ¡°Seems like they¡¯re laboring under some sort of assumption,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Seems like a speculation to me,¡± said Jeremiah.

    They stood quietly together for a moment, the Subs raucous noise stilling in anticipation.

    Delilah started to turn. ¡°Thanks for the-¡±

    Jeremiah put a hand around the small of Delilah¡¯s back, pulled her in, and kissed her. It took every iota of courage he had. It felt like an awful, coercive thing to do, until he felt her kiss him back.

    Suddenly it was the right thing to do, maybe the rightest thing he had ever done. Delilah was an aggressive kisser.  Very  aggressive.

    The subs went wild.

    Without breaking the kiss, Jeremiah pushed her against the door. The breathy noise she let out on impact drove the last fragments of doubt from his mind. The kiss rapidly grew in intensity, becoming demanding, then frantic. He felt for the doorknob and twisted it. He and Delilah fell together through the doorway, hands too busy to arrest their fall, all while the subs cheered and chanted his name.

    ¡°Ahem.¡±

    Sitting at the dinner table, the checkers board between them forgotten, were Bruno and Allison.

    ¡°Told ya,¡± said Bruno.

 Chapter 33. Admiration

    Chapter 33. Admiration

    Jeremiah and Delilah sprang apart. Jeremiah scrambled to his feet, as though if he could just act natural it would be as though nothing had happened.

    ¡°So should we leave, or¡­?¡± said Allison.

    Jeremiah''s head swam. His lip hurt too where Delilah had bit him, but that wasn¡¯t so bad.

    ¡°Monty tracked me here,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°It¡¯s uh, it¡¯s a gang thing. I¡¯m in a gang now. Monty is the gang leader. And there¡¯s a bunch of subbies right outside.¡±

    Bruno¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°Tell me every detail.¡±

    Jeremiah described the events of the night right up until Delilah was pulled into it. Then they told their respective sides without looking at each other. It was a sparse retelling, only the events of the last night.

    ¡°I fucked up,¡±  thought Jeremiah,  ¡°I fucked up so bad. That kiss was definitely not okay.¡±

    But it felt pretty okay.

    ¡°Good cover, both of you. I¡¯m proud,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Is this safehouse dark?¡± Allison asked.

    Bruno narrowed his eyes. ¡°How do you know that term?¡± When Allison pretended not to hear him, he answered, ¡°I think we¡¯re still safe. Our cover story as renters stands up to scrutiny. I¡¯ll do some damage control to make sure, though. Jay you¡¯re staying here tonight, for obvious reasons.¡±

    Jeremiah chanced a glance at Delilah and caught her chancing a glance at him. Their attention both snapped to the ground.

    ¡°Allison can I talk to you about that really important thing I need to talk to you about?¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Allison had already replied before Delilah finished. They scurried into their room.

    ¡°So¡­¡± said Jeremiah. He had no idea what to say. Or do. Or think.

    ¡°I¡¯m leaving on damage control,¡± said Bruno tersely. ¡°Room is yours for tonight. Welcome home, honeypot.¡± He grabbed his cloak and slipped out a window, leaving Jeremiah alone.

    ?

    Once again, Jeremiah stood in front of Delilah¡¯s door. Once again, he was more nervous than he had ever been in doing so. It had been a difficult night of tossing, thinking, and worrying.

    He raised his hand again to knock, and again he lowered it.

    Had he overdone it? Yes, clearly. Would she ever forgive him? Obviously not.

    But he had to get this over with.

    He knocked.

    No answer.

    He had heard Allison leave early in the morning because he had been listening for it, so either Delilah was deliberately ignoring the knock, or she was inside the Giant¡¯s Bag.

    He eased the door open and sure enough, there was only the Giant''s Bag on the bed. As before, the window was wide open to vent whatever gasses might be escaping the bag. Next to the bag was the pair of goggles and fume mask she would lend him when they worked in the lab together.

    Were they an invitation to him? he wondered. Or simply a courtesy to anyone that needed to talk to her by sticking their head in a chimney of chemical fumes? All important questions worth standing still and pondering.

    Finally he worked up the courage to don the mask and goggles. He opened the bag further, recoiling at the blast of heat, then stuck his head in. He absently worried that some chemical gas might corrode the bag to the point of failure and cut his head off.

    ¡°Delilah? You in there?¡± From his vantage point, Jeremiah could see that she was indeed in there, laying a large sheet of paper over one of his metal enchanting squares. She dipped a brush in a small vial of acid and began wiping it over the paper.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°It''s Jay,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Yes, I¡­¡± she sighed. ¡°Yes, come in.¡±

    Jeremiah clambered into the bag, imagining his shoe catching the bag''s edge somehow and tearing it. No such luck.

    He floated down to perch on the work bench behind her. He carefully cleared a spot and sat with his legs hanging. Technically there was room to stand next to her, but he''d be practically on top of her, like last night when¡ª

    ¡° Don''t think about it ,¡± he thought.

    She didn''t stray from her work, which was normal. But it didn''t feel normal.

    ¡°So¡­¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Sew buttons,¡± said Delilah.

    Good start. Not great, but good enough.

    ¡°I wanted to check in with you,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Still here,¡± she said.

    ¡°Good, good,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡° She''s doing this on purpose ,¡± he thought, ¡° Wait, is she doing this on purpose? She''s trying to gauge where Im at, she¡¯s trying to make sure I''m okay. Well, I got here first .¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Let''s talk about last night,¡± he said, trying to sound more sure of himself.

    ¡°There we go,¡± she said. ¡°I''m listening.¡±

    ¡°Why is it up to me to bring it up and you to listen? You were there too! No, calm, calm. She might be feeling¡­feelings. Or something. I can handle talking.¡±

    ¡°I wanted to check how you were feeling about¡­what happened. Obviously we were under duress, and I didnt ask for permission. I apologize if I overstepped. I''m sure there were alternatives I could have taken, but I couldn''t think of them at the time.¡± Jeremiah congratulated himself on sounding perfectly reasonable and not at all rehearsed.

    Delilah set down the beaker she¡¯d been wiping with a  tink . She didn¡¯t respond immediately, facing away from Jeremiah and inspecting the vials in front of her. But eventually she turned to give him an easy smile.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay if you are. Crazy stuff happens on a mission, I¡¯m not going to hold it against you. You did what you thought was right, and I support that.¡±

    Relief flooded through Jeremiah. So many muscles unclenched at once that he nearly slumped over. ¡°And Bruno said he was proud of us, wasn¡¯t that gratifying?¡±

    Delilah grinned. ¡°That  was  gratifying! It was even unironic¡ªhe never does that.¡± She turned back to her work.

    He could just leave. He could say ¡®Good talk¡¯ and float back out of the bag. Maybe give her a hearty slap on the back for good measure. All he needed to do was nothing.

    ¡°So¡­¡± he said.

    She didn¡¯t respond.

    ¡°Is there anything else? We need to talk about?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Such as?¡± she answered, peering into the depths of a wide bottomed flask.

    It wasn¡¯t too late. He could still do nothing.

    ¡°Well, I couldn¡¯t help but notice your response to my bit of improvisation was a little¡­¡± there was still time to run ¡°enthusiastic. And I wanted to check¡­on that¡­¡±

    TINK.

    ¡°And now we wait,¡±  thought Jeremiah.

    He didn¡¯t have to wait long.

    ¡°Look Jay,¡± said Delilah, without turning around, ¡°you know I admire you.¡±

    ¡°Fucking what?¡±  thought Jeremiah.

    ¡°And¡­it may so happen¡­that¡­¡± she started off speaking to her vials, then slowly turned around to face him, ¡°maybe, over time¡­that I took the teeniest, tiniest baby step past admiration¡­.and developed a sort of¡­crush¡­on you¡­aaaand the look on your face tells me that was a  huge  mistake! Thank you, Jay, that''s quite the relief. You can see yourself out.¡±

    ¡°No no no! Wait!¡±

    ¡°Goodbye.¡± She turned back to her work.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry, it just caught me by surprise. I mean, you  admire  me?¡±

    She faced him again, looking confused. ¡°What? Of course I admire you. You¡¯re a kind man. You put your family, us, first. You¡¯re brave and considerate, and you¡¯re a great friend.¡±

    Jeremiah¡¯s instinct was to scoff. Surely she was operating under some false pretenses he should hurry to correct. He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off.

    ¡°Most of all, you were a necromancer! You held power and influence in the palm of your hand, and you gave it away. You weren¡¯t exactly a player of the great game, but you were a very valuable piece. And you chose to abandon that power because you didn¡¯t feel responsible enough to wield it. You did it to keep people safe, people you didn¡¯t even know, and never would know. For no reward, and under no pressure to do so¡ªhell, under pressure to do the opposite. And you¡¯re a  human .¡±

    ¡°...a human?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t take it the wrong way, but humans don¡¯t tend to curb their ambition. ¡®Fastest way to get a human to make a fist is to put a speck of power in his palm¡¯ is the old dwarven saying. All of what you did would be a shocking decision for anyone, but for a human as well? That¡¯s just¡­¡±

    Her eyes grew wider as she spoke to him, and she became more animated, like she had been dying to say this. ¡°Well, that¡¯s just so  interesting !¡±

    Jeremiah was stunned. He had never been complimented like that before, especially not by someone like Delilah.

    In the silence, Delilah asked, ¡°Do you¡­have something¡­ similar? To say?¡±

    ¡°I-I mean, no! I¡¯ve never really thought about you like  that¡ª ¡±

    ¡°Oh sweet gods no, what have I done,¡±  he thought the moment the words left his mouth.

    Delilah whipped back around to her vials. ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡° Do something, do anything, a bad thing is happening. ¡±

    ¡°Not ¡®cause you¡¯re aren¡¯t amazing or anything!¡± Jeremiah said. ¡°You¡¯re Delilah Fortune, that¡¯s what amazing is. But it¡¯s like, the trees don¡¯t  want  the sun, it¡¯s too far beyond them. They¡¯re just thrilled to be in its presence.¡±

    She turned around again, this time looking annoyed. ¡°What was that?¡±

    Did he bad again?

    ¡°What was what?¡±

    ¡°That! The tree thing! And last night, with the flirting, where was all that coming from?¡±

    ¡°I¡­don¡¯t know?¡± If he squished Gus hard enough, maybe he could poison himself and die.

    ¡°Gods, would you just get out of here!¡± Delilah grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him upward, the low gravity propelling him all the way up to the top.

    Jeremiah nearly let momentum carry him back into the bedroom, but he stopped himself. There was something here, a sort of opportunity right now. He couldn¡¯t squander it to timidity. He braced himself.

    ¡°Hey, Delilah. When this is all done¡ªthe mission that is¡ªwould you want to go do something? Together?¡±

    TINK!

    Delilah pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes and let out a low growl that escalated quickly into a shout. ¡°ArghhaaAAAAH! Yes, Jay, I would like that very much! Now, get OUT!¡±

 Chapter 34. Freedom

    Chapter 34. Freedom

    After his initiation, it seemed Jeremiah¡¯s grace period as the newest cell member was over¡ªas soon as he got home, the others explained that he was expected to start earning his keep.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay to start small,¡± said Dronkal. ¡°I¡¯ll cover you for a bit, and introduce you to our fence. But you¡¯ll need to start bringing in the goods.¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t Monty tell me when I need to steal something?¡± Jeremiah had almost been looking forward to the next challenge.

    ¡°Nah, that¡¯s just for the big jobs,¡± said Dronkal. ¡°You want to eat every day, you gotta get some regular work going. Our last slip had a few targets he didn¡¯t get to, you can start with those while you¡¯re getting your bearings.¡±

    ¡°You can always come to us for help,¡± said Shugga. ¡°The subbies are available to you, too. Just, for the love of the gods, don¡¯t go to Pete.¡±

    There was a murmur of agreement around the room.

    ¡°Why? What¡¯s wrong with Pete?¡± Jeremiah asked.

    ¡°Oh, he gets everyone at some point,¡± said Shugga. ¡°He can provide a solution to almost any problem, and he tends to show up when someone is at their most desperate.¡±

    ¡°But he¡¯s a master of trading one copper for two,¡± said Sweet Melissa, ¡°You¡¯ll always end up giving more than you got, in the end.¡±

    ¡°How many favors do you owe Pete?¡± asked Dronkal.

    ¡°I think three,¡± said Jeremiah.

    The others winced.

    ?

    ?

    ?

    ¡ª

    ¡°What are we looking at?¡±  asked Bruno in Jeremiah¡¯s head.

    He had been lurking across a small grassy courtyard from his target for the last thirty minutes, pressed flat and out of sight among the hollyhocks.

    ¡°Manor house, windows locked. The help is cleaning, going from room to room. Nice and orderly.¡±

    ¡°And what does orderly mean?¡±  asked Bruno.

    ¡°Predictable.¡±

    Rise.

    The rat Jeremiah had obtained stirred to life. It scampered out of Jeremiah¡¯s hand, and ran for the front door, squeezing under with plenty of room to spare.

    Jeremiah felt a twinge of guilt for using necromancy again after Delilah had said how interesting he was for giving it up, but this manor wasn¡¯t going to burgle itself.

    Run. Evade. Squeak.

    The screaming began soon after. It was a sizable rat, the largest one Jeremiah could find that had not yet decayed. Jeremiah dashed across the courtyard and hid behind a topiary, just below the window he intended to enter.

    ¡°What do you hear?¡±  asked Bruno.

    Jeremiah concentrated. ¡° Multiple voices, moving. Yelling ¡®rat¡¯ in gnomish. It¡¯s become an all hands on deck problem .¡±

    ¡°Is the yelling loud enough to use as cover?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±  Jeremiah tapped the window.  ¡°Awfully thick glass. They¡¯ll hear it all over the house.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll need a new ingress then,¡±  said Bruno.

    ¡°No time.¡±  Jeremiah pulled his inscription pick and rapidly scratched at the glass¡ªDecay And Decay And Decay.

    Jeremiah reached up to charge the diagram, then hesitated. He added two more runes at the beginning. The diagram now read Adhesion And Decay And Decay And Decay

    He charged the diagram and swayed on his feet. Not since the Giant¡¯s Bag recharge had he tried that many active runes simultaneously. He waited another minute, hoping the rat could keep up the chase just a little longer, then scratched out the Cohesion rune.

    The window shattered, but with only a  pop  and hiss of tiny glass pellets raining down. Jeremiah pulled himself inside.

    ¡°Make sure you tell me about this,¡±  said Bruno.

    ¡°Will do.¡±

    Screams from the other side of the house told Jeremiah the rat was still doing its job. He hurried to the living room and grabbed the elaborately decorated sword from the mantle, wrapping it in an old sheet to avoid attention and cutting himself on the blade.

    Jeremiah was about to leave when he saw the chests of silverware stacked near the dining table. With the entire staff distracted trying to kill a zombie rat, he risked opening one.

    ¡° Woah, them¡¯s some fancy forks,¡±  said Bruno.

    More than just silver, they were filigreed to an absurd degree. Soup spoons in the shape of clam shells, knives with sweeping and curled tips, and a half dozen different varieties of fork with tiny designs etched into them.

    ¡°Bet they make the soup taste better,¡±  thought Jeremiah. He lay the sword on top and lifted three cases, huffing at the weight. With some difficulty, he swung his legs back out the window and dropped down, then took to the street where the traffic swept him towards the subs he had recruited for the job.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let them ask, give freely as though it¡¯s a gift,¡±  whispered Delilah.

    ¡°You may not have been born with a silver spoon in your mouth, but it¡¯s not too late!¡± Jeremiah said as he reached the rendezvous point.

    The Subs opened the chests and were dumbstruck by the ridiculous cutlery.

    ¡°My kid and I ate a pigeon with our bare hands the other night, and these assholes are using knives shaped like leaves,¡± said one.

    ¡°Kid...¡±  The word stuck in his head, wedged firmly. Stark, yet strangely undefined.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to think of hungry children, isn¡¯t it?¡±  said Vivica,  ¡°But they¡¯re real. They¡¯re oh, so real.¡±

    ¡°Then consider these leaves liberated for a better cause,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Fence the sword for Cell Four and divide the silverware among yourselves.¡±

    The subs¡¯ surprise soon evolved into excitement when they realized Jeremiah was being serious. They thanked him over and over.

    It felt good.

    ¡ª

    ¡° He¡¯s home and he¡¯s got a dog ,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Dogs are the worst,¡±  said Bruno.

    Jeremiah recalled the rant Bruno would go on whenever the topic of dogs came up.  ¡°Even the littlest ones are dangerous. They¡¯re all noisy, they¡¯re all territorial, and the big ones will actually hurt you. Oh, just kill the dog, you say? Now you¡¯re a guy that kills dogs and people hate you. Kill a person? Big deal. Kill a dog? You¡¯re an asshole.¡±

    ¡° Yes, yes, I know. Dog only likes his people and the people his people like .¡±

    Jeremiah peered down at the small double apartment rented by his next target, an ancient halfling man with a bull mastiff. Jeremiah had climbed to the roof of an adjacent apartment for a better view.

    ¡°That''s a halfling war mastiff,¡±  said Allison.  ¡°He was a rider, elite military. Those dogs are trained like soldiers. Very dangerous.¡±

    ¡°An officer. He¡¯ll be tough to fool,¡±  said Delilah.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°So, what will you do?¡±  they asked.

    ¡°Wait,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Over an hour passed, the sun dipping toward the horizon. But eventually, the dog went to sit by the front door. The halfling man appeared to let him outside. He strapped a saddle to the dog¡¯s back, balancing carefully, his trusty mount bearing him with great care.

    ¡°Good girl, Calliope, that¡¯s a good girl.¡± The man¡¯s wizened voice drifted to Jeremiah¡¯s perch. ¡°Let¡¯s take a nice walk. Where would you like to go today?¡±

    Jeremiah laughed out loud. He couldn¡¯t help himself. ¡°That¡¯s not a dog, that is a small bear!¡± The mastiff was immense and composed of solid muscle. Its head in particular was abnormally large¡ªJeremiah was sure it could enclose a human skill in its mouth with room to spare. He was thankful he hadn¡¯t suffered a fit of insanity and decided to enter the house while it was lurking.

    Unfortunately an evening stroll was a popular activity, and the streets were rife with potential witnesses and the occasional guard. No breaking a window or picking a lock on the ground floor without attracting attention. Jeremiah considered waiting till nightfall, but that would mean Calliope, the four legged war machine, would be home.

    ¡°All that practice for nothing,¡±  said Bruno.

    ¡°Ugh, fine, I¡¯ll do it,¡±  thought Jeremiah.

    A few minutes later, Jeremiah held a rope procured for him by a sub. He picked up two loose, flat, cobble stones and pulled out his enchanting equipment.

    Cohesion and Strengthen

    He placed the stone on the roof and charged it. The rock held fast, fixed in place. He tied one end of the rope to the secured brick, and one end to the brick he was still working on.

    Strengthen And If Contact Pause Pause Cohesion If Cohesion Cohesion

    Writing as small as he possibly could, he still only barely managed to fit all the runes on the stone. He spent a moment to admiring his work. It was easily the most complex diagram he had ever done.

    Jeremiah charged the brick, waited for his head to clear, then touched the Contact and heaved the brick across the street. It bounced down the gentle slope of the target roof before suddenly sticking in place.

    ¡°Ha! I can¡¯t believe that worked!¡± Jeremiah said. ¡°Now we just¡­ah, dang it.¡±

    The bounce down the roof had introduced enough slack in the rope that it hung halfway down the building. A couple of quick cuts and a new knot he¡¯d learned from Sweet Melissa, and he was back in business with a taught line connecting his roof to the target¡¯s.

    ¡°I can shimmy this,¡±  he thought.

    ¡°I should hope so,¡±  said Bruno.

    ¡°Wrap your hands,¡±  said Allison.

    Jeremiah shimmied inch by inch over the street, thankful for the handwraps. The people rushing far below thankfully kept their eyes on the road¡­save one. A young man in a fanciful hat stared up at Jeremiah from the roadside, half eaten apple still in hand. They both froze, eyes locked, the young man mid-chew.

    Jeremiah scowled at him and shook his head. The young man returned his eyes to the street and kept eating his apple.

    ¡°Good man,¡±  thought Jeremiah. He finished crossing the rope and crawled up on the roof, a quick descent got him through an open second floor window.

    The house was like a museum. Maps framed behind glass covered the walls, still sporting notes and scribbles from ages long past. Trophies of battle stood proudly on every surface, each one telling a story that Jeremiah couldn¡¯t hear.

    ¡°This man served an honorable life,¡±  said Allison.

    ¡° Yeah, I can see that ,¡± said Jeremiah. Knowing his friend¡¯s opinions was not always helpful.

    Jeremiah¡¯s target was a uniform, which he found on a small sized dress dummy. Carefully pressed and immaculate, it stood sentry, facing the bed like a guardian against regret. It was nearly covered in stately medals and insignias.

    Allison¡¯s medal box sprang to Jeremiah¡¯s mind. ¡° This is his legacy ,¡± said Allison. ¡° This uniform represents the culmination of a life of hard work. ¡±

    ¡° I don¡¯t like it either ,¡± said Jeremiah, unbuttoning the uniform, ¡° but I need to do what I need to do .¡±

    He bundled up the uniform, undoubtedly giving it creases that it hadn¡¯t held in a long time. But before he did, he plucked every adornment and laid them carefully on the bed. The job had requested he steal a uniform, and a uniform was all he would take.

    ¨C

    The occupants of the illustrious smoking room screamed as Jeremiah exploded through the window, a square of wood Adhered to his forearm shielding him from the worst of the glass shards. Jeremiah snatched a framed painting off the wall and a decanter of liquor from the sideboard, and dove out through another window.

    ¨C

    ¡°Your loyal servant returns!¡± Jeremiah announced, returning to headquarters. The Stonefist subs cheered. Jeremiah tossed a jewelry box and a pair of wine bottles to some waiting hands. He now found plenty of eager assistants for his work, and a warm welcome anywhere subs saw him.

    Working through the list Dronkal had given him had led Jeremiah to a bit of a reputation for retrieving specific items for interested buyers. The premium was considerable, and the objects in question tended to be less heavily guarded than money.

    There were a few oddities thrown in, of course¡ªtwice Jeremiah had to stab a folded letter to a headboard or door with daggers. Once he had to leave a set of wet manacles at the top of a staircase. And on one occasion he wasn¡¯t required to steal anything at all, only to toss the place to make it look like someone had been unable to find what they sought.

    All in all, aside from occasional stabs of guilt over stealing someone¡¯s most prized possession, he found the work varied and enjoyable¡ªeach case was a unique situation, calling upon his skillset in unexpected ways and demanding innovation. His enchanting was improving by leaps and bounds, both in designing diagrams and executing them efficiently. He was astonished at what he could accomplish. He knew so few words, but creativity in their usage meant very little could be kept safe from him. His Decay rune in particular made short work of any barrier, with his Gently rune ensuring the results could be easily controlled. With time and a surface to write on, he could Decay through most anything.

    One of the subs tapped Jeremiah on the shoulder. ¡°Boss wants to see you.¡±

    Jeremiah immediately felt like a little boy about to be in trouble, although as far as he knew he had nothing to be worried about. He headed down to Monty¡¯s office, trying to reassure himself of that fact.

    ¡°Jay,¡± said Monty as he entered. ¡°Please sit.¡±

    Jeremiah settled himself on the floor. ¡°What can I do for you, sir?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard a rumor you¡¯ve been giving gifts to the subs," said Monty.

    Jeremiah hesitated. It suddenly occurred to him the gang boss might expect all stolen items to be subject to their usual cut. Was he about to be accused of stealing from Monty?

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯d call them  gifts,  boss. More like¡­ extras,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Subs are people too, even if they¡¯re not officially part of the Stonefists.¡±

    ¡°Your ¡®extras¡¯ have been affecting recruitment and retention,¡± said Monty, ¡°Subs are leaving less often, and more promising candidates are showing up. Importantly, the quality of work we¡¯re seeing from the subs we already have is improving. You¡¯ve been giving back to the gang.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± said Jeremiah. The praise made him feel uncomfortable. It reminded him of how much he was hiding.

    ¡°The strongest gangs grow from the bottom up. A stronger foundation lets the tower rise higher. What I¡¯m saying, Jay, is thank you. You¡¯re a rare talent,¡± said Monty.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, boss,¡± said Jeremiah. He shifted, wondering if some other response was expected of him.

    ¡°I also want to apologize for the incident with the counselor,¡± said Monty, his voice dipping ever so slightly. ¡°That was crass and prideful of me. I was certain I had discovered some secret of yours, a folly I let guide my actions in place of wisdom.¡±

    ¡°S¡¯alright,¡± said Jeremiah. This he had even less idea what to do with.

    ¡°I was wondering, Jay, if you would join me for a drink.¡± Monty drew a decanter and a pair of tumblers from his desk.

    ¡°Oh! Yeah, okay.¡±

    ¡°This is a special vintage from my youth,¡± said Monty, pouring the whisky. He circled to the front of the desk and handed a glass to Jeremiah. ¡°I see myself in many of the people you¡¯re helping, Jay.¡±

    ¡°In the subs, boss?¡± asked Jeremiah, taking the glass. It was a comparison with quite the gulf.

    Monty nodded. ¡°It¡¯s where I started. Where most people start. And over years and years, I¡¯ve connived, swindled, beaten, and murdered my way up the chain.¡± He listed off the crimes with exasperation. Monty almost returned to his seat, but seemed to think twice on it, and instead sat down on the floor with Jeremiah.

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s just the way of things,¡± said Jeremiah. The whiskey smelled like a wood fire.

    ¡°Indeed it is. We do what we have to do. And what we have to do, oftentimes, is just keep ourselves alive.¡± Monty was gazing into his tumbler, letting the amber liquor swirl.

    ¡°You seem to be doing a bit better than most,¡± said Jeremiah. This was a very strange turn of events. Why was Monty telling him this?

    ¡°Only because I stand on the backs of those I¡¯ve crushed underfoot. And if any one of them,¡± at this he gestured upward toward the common room of the headquarters, ¡°wants anything more out of life than the squalor they live in, they¡¯ll need to do the same.¡±

    ¡°Kick down?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    Monty nodded. ¡°Kick down, aye. The Pit is a great big bucket of crabs all making sure no one gets out, cause that¡¯ll be one less back to stand on.¡±

    They sat quietly. Jeremiah sipped the whiskey and, despite his efforts, emitted the tiniest cough.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a way out,¡± said Monty, ¡°for all of us, I think.¡±

    ¡°Out of¡­what, the Pit? The lifestyle?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°All of it. But it¡¯s going to require that I give more than I already have. I¡¯m going to need your help as well, if you¡¯re the right man for the job.¡±

    Jeremiah was intrigued now, this was sounding some sort of easy way out. An ultimate solution to a very complicated problem.

    ¡°No such thing,¡±  said Allison.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯m up for it,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°No, you¡¯re not. Not yet. There¡¯s better thieves than you in this city, better cutthroats too. But I need someone who can see the bigger picture. Someone who understands the value of being free from all of¡­this.¡± Monty picked up a pinch of dirt from the floor and rubbed it between his fingers, before sprinkling just a pinch into his whiskey and sipping it.

    ¡°You just let me know what needs doing,¡± said Jeremiah. This was it. Jeremiah was on the verge of something, likely exactly what he was looking for.

    Monty raised the remnants of his drink. ¡°To freedom.¡±

    Jeremiah mirrored the salute. ¡°To freedom.¡±

 Chapter 35. Collect

    Chapter 35. Collect

    Jeremiah weaved his way through the Pit after another successful robbery, followed by distributing a box of cigars to the subs. He had been feeling good over his last month as a Stonefist. Great, even. Better than he had in a long time. Here, he was proficient at his work. He was trusted. Among the subs, he was adored.

    A corner lurker gave him a nod, which he returned. Jeremiah no longer worried about being targeted by random crime in the Pit. People knew he was a Stonefist, and a popular one at that. The status protected him far better than any weapon could.

    The fever of the city, that ineffable sense of tension, was still building. People were disappearing, violence was becoming far more common and extreme, even casual. But even that couldn¡¯t dampen Jeremiah¡¯s mood, except to remind him he¡¯s supposed to be doing something else. He pushed the thought away. He needed some rest first, then he could think about it.

    Jay climbed the stairs to home and rapped out the special knock before pushing the door open. He was looking forward to collapsing onto his bed for some much-deserved rest, but almost as soon as he entered, Dronkal said, ¡°Load up, Jay, we¡¯re leaving.¡±

    ¡°Huh? Where are we going?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°We''re going collecting,¡± said Shugga, ¡°we need to make sure you can cover for one of us if need be. Besides, it¡¯ll be good for our regulars to recognize you.¡±

    With great reluctance, Jeremiah allowed himself to be led back down the stairs. He thought of his pillow, cool and fluffy in the morning light. ¡° I¡¯ll be back soon ,¡± he promised.

    They crossed the edge of the Pit and entered the slums. Dronkal and Shugga wore stony expressions, their greatswords and batons hanging at their hips. They walked shoulder to shoulder, and their size and pace left Jeremiah tailing awkwardly behind.

    ¡°This is our first stop,¡± said Shugga, halting so abruptly Jeremiah collided with his backside. ¡°You taken protection money before?¡±

    ¡°No. Is there going to be trouble?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Doubtful,¡± said Shugga. ¡°We make sure of that. Follow our lead.¡±

    They shoved the doors open with a bang that and startled the few customers and the halfling behind the counter. The patrons took one look at the character of the men who had just entered and took their leave.

    Dronkal approached the counter as the halfling began to stammer. ¡°Gentlemen! There must be some mistake, you''ve come far too early in the week to¡ªoh my!¡±

    Dronkal stepped over the halfling sized counter, his foot connecting with the halfling''s shoulder and knocking him aside. ¡°Bird told me you''ve been stashin on me, Cinta. That true?¡± He loomed over the tiny cheesemonger, tusks protruding and hands curled into heavy fists.

    ¡°No! Not at all, sir! I keep careful ledgers, I do. Your cut is here!¡± The halfling, shaking like a leaf, took a small pouch from the counter and held it up to Dronkal. Dronkal snatched the coin purse and peered inside.

    Meanwhile, Shugga patrolled the empty shop, inspecting each wheel of cheese. They were stacked to chest height, and a thin cutting wire had been placed delicately atop each one. Shugga gripped the edge of a wheel and ripped off a first-sized chunk. He stuffed most of it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, then cut a careful wedge with the wire and stowed it.

    Shugga gave Jeremiah a pointed look, and Jeremiah found his own wheel of cheese. ¡° Was Shugga going to pay for that? ¡± thought Jeremiah. ¡° No, no of course not. This is criminal stuff. We''re doing criminal stuff .¡±

    Jeremiah had never stolen anything before.

    ¡°Wait,¡±  he thought.  ¡°That''s not true. I''ve stolen lots of things in the last few days alone. Why does this feel so different?¡±

    He took the wire and sliced a piece off of the pale yellow slab. The proprietor shot him a pained expression, but didn¡¯t object. Jeremiah nibbled the corner of the slice. It was okay.

    ¡°Best make sure we don''t hear any more rumors,¡± said Dronkal, satisfied with the count.

    ¡°I-I¡¯m not sure how¡­I mean, I will! Yes, of course, sir!¡± said Cinta.

    They left as quickly as they came, Shugga making sure to slam the door as they left.

    ¡°You saw how that went down?¡± Dronkal asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°I think so,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°You intimidated him, and got the money. Were there really rumors he was holding out?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± said Dronkel, ¡°but they need to be scared every time. Got that? Every single time. The moment they''re not afraid of you is the moment they''ll start wondering what they can get away with.¡±

    ¡°Well, we have different philosophies,¡± said Shugga. ¡°I try to be a bit more friendly and let it feel like a business transaction. Really stress the ¡®protection¡¯ side of things.¡±

    Jeremiah nodded. ¡°And are we actually protecting these people from anything?¡±

    Dronkal shrugged, ¡°Technically yes, we¡¯re protecting them from other gangs who would do the same thing.¡± He frowned. ¡°Don¡¯t get any fantasies of noble thieves in your head, they died out long ago.¡±

    Jeremiah¡¯s mood soured like curdling cream. For some reason, he was surprised. Dronkal and Shugga seemed so nice. Brutal maybe, but they were nice to  him . How could there be such a difference between the Dronkal and Shugga he knew and who he was seeing now?If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Another shop, this one selling untreated leathers. Shugga took the lead and was slightly more civil to the man running the shop, but the air of threat was still there.

    ¡°Not having any problems, Gerald? Yeah? No one making payments difficult is there?¡± said Shugga.

    Gerald wouldn¡¯t look directly at Shugga. ¡°No sir, no problems. Thank you for asking.¡±

    ¡°Well you just let us know, alright?¡±

    They hit up a half dozen stores, Jeremiah becoming more and more sickened by the routine with each stop. The song and dance was always the same.

    Until it wasn¡¯t.

    ¡°You¡¯re up,¡± said Shugga.

    Jeremiah started. This was not part of the plan. ¡°Me? You want me to do the next one?¡±

    ¡°Gotta learn. Go in there and tell them you¡¯re working for Dronk and Shug. Get the payment. We¡¯ll be just outside in case there¡¯s trouble, don¡¯t worry.¡± Shugga gave him an encouraging slap on the back. There was that awful juxtaposition again, that friendliness mixed with an insistence Jeremiah do something awful.

    It was a small blacksmith¡¯s shop set up under a shoddy overhang that bowed and bent like an old man. Everything about it was tiny¡ªthe furnace, the buckets, the hammers and anvils, everything. Jeremiah would have assumed it belonged to a gnome or halfling, but for the young human woman tapping away at a horseshoe on her anvil.

    ¡°Morning, sir!¡± She flashed him a smile. ¡°What can I help you with?¡±

    ¡°This place is small time,¡±  thought Jeremiah. This wasn¡¯t a smith who made weapons and armor, she did nails, horseshoes and cheap knives.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to collect,¡± said Jeremiah, putting as much casual authority into his voice as he could, ¡°on behalf of Dronk and Shug.¡± He thought he sounded like a herald.

    The smile slipped off the woman¡¯s face. ¡°Got a batch of bad iron and business has been slow. Come back next week.¡±

    ¡°I really was hoping this was going to be an easy one,¡±  thought Jeremiah. He got closer to her, trying to think what would be intimidating.  ¡° That¡¯s not my problem. You are my problem. Now, pay up. ¡±

    The woman looked him up and down and raised an eyebrow. ¡°That so? Then you got a mighty fine problem on your hands don¡¯t you?¡± She squared up with him, gripping her small hammer hard. She definitely had some muscle on her, not enough for Jeremiah to feel cowed, not like Allison, but enough to make him awfully nervous of that hammer.

    ¡°Oh, is it time to take a stand?¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Now¡¯s your big moment?¡± Please, he silently begged, don¡¯t make this worse.

    She didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°Mayhaps it is. I don¡¯t bring in much for you and yours. Maybe I¡¯ll make myself not worth the trouble.¡±

    Jeremiah realized he¡¯d screwed up. He had put the idea of defiance in her head like a script.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have much. It¡¯ll be real easy to take it all away,¡± he said. It was a vague threat, nonsensical threat, but worse still, as he was saying it, he flinched. His eyes flicked away from hers for just an instant, and she caught it.

    ¡°Tell you what, little man,¡± she said with a half smile. ¡°I¡¯ll give you two sets of horseshoes, free of charge. That¡¯s worth about what I pay to your people. We can call that square, can¡¯t we?¡±

    Jeremiah wasn¡¯t sure. He had no idea what horseshoes cost. ¡°Better than nothing. Maybe they¡¯ll take it easy on you,¡± he said.

    ¡°Oh I sure hope so,¡± said the woman. She grabbed eight horseshoes off a peg and handed them to Jeremiah. He bobbled them and a few clattered to the ground. ¡°Butterfingers,¡± she said.

    He gathered them up and left.

    Dronkal and Shugga were waiting around the corner. ¡°It¡¯s just, why wouldn¡¯t you tell me?¡± Shugga was saying. ¡°It¡¯s not weird that you have a kid, it¡¯s weird you wouldn¡¯t say anything.¡±

    ¡°Jay! How¡¯d we do?¡± said Dronkal.

    ¡°She said she didn¡¯t have enough money, but gave me these.¡± Jeremiah showed the horseshoes to Dronkal and Shugga.

    They burst out laughing. A flush began to rise in Jeremiah¡¯s cheeks.

    ¡°Oh, that takes me back,¡± said Shugga, wiping a tear from his eye.

    ¡°Jay, do we own horses?¡± said Dronkal.

    ¡°No,¡± said Jeremiah, looking at the ground like a scolded child.

    ¡°Are we in the horseshoe selling business?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± It was Monty¡¯s one gold challenge all over again.

    ¡°No. She sells those at a markup. They¡¯re not even worth what she charges for them.¡±

    ¡°I love it when a Slip tries to do a thug¡¯s job,¡± laughed Shugga. ¡°C¡¯mon Jay, we¡¯ll get this straightened out.¡±

    Dronkal took a horseshoe from Jeremiah as he and Shugga went to visit the woman. Jeremiah reluctantly followed, his embarrassment quickly being replaced by dread.

    The woman had barely entered Dronkal¡¯s line of sight when he flung the horseshoe at her. She glanced up at the sudden motion and caught the iron right in the mouth. Blood exploded from her lips and she tumbled backward onto the floor of her shop.

    ¡°This what my name is worth to you?!¡± Dronkal screamed. He snatched another horseshoe from Jeremiah and threw it. The woman, curled in a ball and hands pressed to her mouth, took this next one in the kidney. She screamed through broken teeth and spasmed in pain, arching her back. ¡°You hear my name and you think of horseshoes?!¡±

    Dronkal grabbed another two and hurled them, one after another. She rolled away from the first one. The second glanced off her shoulder with a sickening crunch.

    Jeremiah stood frozen. The escalation of violence had locked his legs in place. Dronkal took the remaining horseshoes.

    ¡°I¡¯ll just return these! If that¡¯s all they¡¯re worth! If that¡¯s all they¡¯re worth!¡± Dronkal continued to scream. The woman frantically produced a small metal coin box hidden beneath a table, she held it up over her head in a warding gesture. Dronkal threw the next four horseshoes regardless, three missing, one slugging her in the stomach. She curled up and waved the box desperately until Shugga snatched it out of her hands.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you ever disrespect my name again!¡± Dronkal spat at her broken form.

    They left her here, shivering and broken. Taking her money, her dignity, and her health in only a moment.

    ¡°We¡¯re Cutter,¡±  Jeremiah realized,  ¡°we¡¯re her Cutter. We¡¯re all someone else¡¯s Cutter.¡±

    He had to get out.

 Chapter 36. A Favor Owed

    Chapter 36. A Favor Owed

    He had let himself get too comfortable, he realized that now. The sense of belonging, of being valued¡ªhe had allowed it to envelope him with warm reassurance of his own importance.

    Well, no more. His cell mates were not his friends, he knew that now. His friends would never force him to do things he knew were so wrong.

    Tonight, he would speak with Monty, convince him he was ready for the next step. Jeremiah was confident that was the way to learning more about the cult. Whatever it took, he would do it¡ªhis time as a Stonefist was over.

    ¡°Let me know when you¡¯ve got a lull in work,¡± said Dronkal as Jeremiah entered the living room. ¡°I want you out with Sweet Melissa next chance we get.¡±

    ¡°Aww, yay!¡± said Sweet Melissa, looking up from her book.

    ¡°Out with Melissa?¡± asked Jeremiah. ¡°You mean like when I went with you and Shug?¡±

    ¡°Yup, Monty¡¯s orders,¡± Dronkal said. ¡°He wants you to understand all facets of the operations. I think he might be grooming you for a Cell leader position.¡±

    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s fast,¡± said Shugga.

    ¡°Monty seems to think there¡¯s a future for him,¡± said Dronkal.

    ¡°Oh, we¡¯re going to have so much fun!¡± said Sweet Melissa. ¡°Just don¡¯t wear any clothes you¡¯re fond of.¡±

    Their secret knock was rapped on the door. The members of Cell Four exchanged looks. and drew their blades.

    Dronkal went to the door. ¡°What?¡± he said through the wood, foot braced against the doorframe.

    ¡°Evening Dronkal,¡± came Pete¡¯s voice. ¡°I¡¯m here to see Jay of Shabad.¡±

    No one relaxed, but they opened the door to reveal Pete in his usual finery, unperturbed by the drawn weapons.

    ¡°Hello, Jay,¡± said Pete. ¡°It¡¯s time.¡±

    ?

    Pete and Jeremiah walked for nearly an hour, to an area of Elminia Jay had never been to. Pete offered no hint of what he wanted Jay to do, merely pointing out restaurants that he thought were a cut above. Jeremiah chose to remain silent.

    They came at last to an entire block of apartments that had been ravaged by fire. The charred remains of all the tightly packed homes huddled together, a derelict monument to the thousands of lives that had once played out here.

    All save one. At the center of the blackened field, a stone tower presided in isolation. It was short by tower standards, but the effect was intentional.

    ¡°Now then, Jay of Shabad, a favor is owed and a favor is to be repaid,¡± said Pete, smiling up at the tower.

    ¡°No,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Come again?¡± Pete¡¯s smile persisted.

    ¡°Just no. I choose not to repay your favor,¡± said Jeremiah. Why should he get caught up in Pete¡¯s economy? He didn¡¯t even belong here, he wasn¡¯t dependent on Pete.

    ¡°Ah that old chestnut.¡± Pete¡¯s eyes twinkled. ¡°You¡¯re hardly the first, you know. Every so often someone decides to thumb their nose at ol¡¯ Pete and his silly favors. And who can blame them? But it never works out for them lad. Do you know why?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll enlighten me,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Naturally, dear lad. It¡¯s because I have people killed,¡± said Pete. He still wore that easy smile.

    Jeremiah didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°Not exactly a novel threat, Peter. And, in case you¡¯ve forgotten, you¡¯re still marked.¡± Jeremiah gestured to Pete¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Spare me lad. The simple scratching of a rune on skin isn¡¯t enough to convey an enchantment¡¯s properties. Oh, you¡¯re surprised? Did you think I wouldn¡¯t do a little research after what you pulled? Worry not, your secret is still safe with me, and there¡¯s no hard feelings. Ol¡¯ Pete appreciates being taught a thing or two. Now as for the consequences, you¡¯ll find that certain friends may not be as willing to take the risks-¡±

    Jeremiah knew he was referring to Delilah. ¡° Bring it the fuck on ,¡± she said in his head.

    ¡°Go for it,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Not worried about what will happen to the young lady? Cold lad, quite cold, but illuminating to say the least. How about this then¡ªrepay my favors, or I¡¯m going to look into you a touch more than I already have.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°I mean, Jay from Shabad, that no one from Shabad is looking for a Jay from Shabad.¡±

    ¡°So?¡±

    ¡°Mages go missing quite rarely. Powerful people like to keep track of them, you see. I suspect with a few letters, we can shine some light on this clandestine enterprise you¡¯re on, perhaps inform your new Stonefist friends. Perhaps even the whole city¡ªyou know how gossip travels.¡±

    That did send a bolt of fear through Jeremiah. Everything would be compromised, all of his hard-won progress dashed away. No chance he¡¯d be allowed anywhere near the cult as Jeremiah Thorn, the famous necromancer last seen commanding hordes of undead alongside the armies of Dramir and had the ear of the powers that be.

    ¡°Well, what¡¯s the favor, first of all?¡± asked Jeremiah. Maybe it would be easy.

    ¡°There¡¯s a good lad.¡± He turned back to the burnt-out city block. ¡°Now, what you see before you is the tower of Madam Furchot. Inside her bedroom is a necklace with an amber pendant. Quite gaudy, you¡¯ll know it when you see it. Fetch it for me.¡±

    ¡°What, right now?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Unfortunately yes, I need it within the next hour. I do apologize for the time pressure, but opportunity is knocking. Ol¡¯ Pete has a chance to step up in the world, and he is obliged to take it.¡±

    ¡°Pete, no offense, but there¡¯s better thieves than I out there. Why aren¡¯t you using them?¡± It was an honest question. Jeremiah had some successes under his belt, but he was no Bruno.

    ¡°Excellent question, lad. You see Madam Furchot is what¡¯s known as an evoker, and she¡ª¡±

    ¡°Woah, woah, woah. Wait. An actual evoker? Do you know what that is?¡±

    ¡°A mage of some sort,¡± said Pete, waving a hand.

    ¡°Evokers are mages that specialize in energy creation,¡± said Jeremiah.

    The news failed to diminish Pete¡¯s smile. ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re who you think of when you think of mages. They shoot fireballs, blasts of lightning, sonic explosions, something called prismatic energy¡­Pete, is she the reason why all these buildings are burned down?¡±

    Pete looked at the forest of blackened timber with renewed curiosity. ¡°I have heard she enjoys her solitude more than most, and this is certainly not the first time this block has burned down.¡±

    ¡°Pete, come on,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious.¡±

    ¡°Now, now, lad, the time for complaining is long since past. Now is the time for action! Don¡¯t tarry now, the night is young and I¡¯ve further work for you after this.¡± He gave Jeremiah¡¯s shoulder an encouraging squeeze before departing.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Jeremiah looked up at the tower.  ¡°Maybe she¡¯s not home.¡±

    ?

    Jeremiah scampered away from the tower¡¯s entrance. The door was so heavy and solid that it had hurt his hand to knock on it. From his hiding spot amongst a burnt out building, he watched and waited for signs of activity.

    The square tower had only four windows, right at the top of course, facing the cardinal directions. A crooked stove pipe jutted out from the gabled roof, seeping a wisp of smoke.

    ¡°Why do mages like towers?¡±  Jeremiah wondered.

    ¡°Good views,¡±  said Flusoh.  ¡°Let¡¯s you keep an eye out for angry mobs, people asking for miracles, and thieves like you.¡±

    No movement. No lights. He could try and use enchanting to Decay through the front door, but the number of runes needed to get through such a massive slab would be considerable. Draining too much focus was a real possibility, not to mention how exposed he would be while etching them.

    Jeremiah realized there would be nowhere to escape to should she spot him. The only place to hide were the ruins of buildings she¡¯d already proved willing to burn down.

    ¡°Up we go then,¡±  he thought.

    Jeremiah darted to the foot of the tower to huddle in its shadow. He selected an ashen brick at his feet and inscribed it with the rune Cohesion. Pressing the enchanted brick against the tower left it stuck in place.

    He repeated the process with another dozen bricks, always placed above the previous to create a makeshift ladder. It was as he was climbing the ladder to place the tenth brick that Jeremiah encountered his first problem¡ªhe was getting tired.

    Craning his neck upward, Jeremiah was dismayed to realize he had covered barely a quarter of the distance to those top floor windows. His fingers and forearms ached, and making even the inscribing process painful.

    ¡°Okay, buddy, we need a better plan.¡± Gus, napping in his pocket, did not answer. Jeremiah wondered how many bricks he could carry up the ladder in a single trip. If only he didn¡¯t need to climb down the ladder, he was wasting a lot of energy in needing to get back to the ground to get more bricks.

    ¡°Huh. That¡¯s an idea.¡±

    He inscribed If Contact, Cohesion on two new bricks. Touching the Contact point caused the brick to adhere to the wall, releasing the Contact let the brick come free. He no longer needed to return to the ground, these two ladder rungs would take him all the way to the top.

    A quick test on a wall confirmed they worked, so long as he was careful with his grip. Brushing the Contact point at the wrong moment would bring a swift end to his thieving ambitions.

    Wedging the toes of his shoes between the thin seems of the stone work, Jeremiah used his climbing bricks to scale the tower. His arms ached from the work they¡¯d already done, but the strength he¡¯d gained working as a second-story man over the last month served him well.

    He reached one of the tower windows and, praying Madam Furchot wasn¡¯t looking out that window at that very moment, peeked inside.

    The highest room of the tower was a luxurious bedroom and a storage chamber of wonders. Thick rugs were piled haphazardly, layered atop one another to cover the entire floor in a chaotic array. A four poster bed sported a dozen pillows and a sky blue canopy, silken and soft. Surrounding it, glass curios displayed sparkling fascinations, a thousand trinkets and treasures from the corners of the world.

    Jeremiah pulled himself through the window. Crowds of intricately carved wooden masks surveyed the room, the gemstone-tipped hands of a standing clock leapt between positions seemingly at random, and an entire case of wands gleamed behind blue tinted glass.

    ¡°Steal everything , ¡±  said Bruno.

    ¡°No way¡ªI don¡¯t know what this stuff is, I don¡¯t know what it does, and I want as little involvement in this woman¡¯s life as possible.¡±

    Jeremiah placed the bricks on the window sill for safe-keeping, then began to scan the room for the gaudy amber necklace Pete had described.

    In contrast with the delicate jewels and clockwork devices that crowded the curios, the necklace was garish, sporting an oversized gem, ornate gold fittings spotted with diamonds, and a heavy layered chain. It hung on a necklace stand beside the bed.

    ¡°Okay, at least this part is simple,¡±  thought Jeremiah.

    He crossed the room on tip toe, senses on high alert for anything amiss.

    Nothing.

    He neared the necklace and inspected it for any signs of security.

    Nothing.

    He lifted the necklace off the stand and froze, holding his breath, waiting for something to happen.

    Nothing.

    ¡°Huh,¡± he breathed out in relief.

    The floor at the center of the room exploded in a blast of flame, burning chunks of wood and carpet ricocheting like crossbow bolts. Splintered shrapnel pelted Jeremiah, who ignored the pain and dove under the bed.

    ¡°Who¡¯s in my HOUSE?!¡± A scream like ringing metal pierced Jeremiah¡¯s ears. From the new hole in the floor, a human woman in blazing red robes arose, held aloft by a deafening tornado of wind that whipped her gray-streaked hair in a wild frenzy.

    Madam Furchot surveyed the room, teeth bared in a ferocious snarl. Blue fire smoldered around one clenched fist, while arcs of electricity sparked out from the other.

    ¡°Die in hiding then!¡± The flames leapt from her hand to a corner of the room, blossoming into a sphere that ignited everything it touched. Jeremiah felt the temperature rise instantly. With the other hand, she raked lighting in a circle around herself, obliterating anything it touched. The lightning caught the bed Jeremiah was hiding under, blowing the mattress to pieces, but thankfully leaving his hiding place intact. For now.

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m screwed,¡±  thought Jeremiah.

    ¡°Consider your enemy,¡±  said Allison,  ¡°She¡¯s a mage, just like you. She¡¯s a human, just like you.¡±

    Jeremiah seized a blasted plank of wood that had slid under the bed and inscribed on it as fast as he could.

    ¡°I¡¯m sick of this city!¡± Madam Furchot was screaming. ¡°I¡¯m sick of the little insect people in it! I am a  god  compared to you! I will not be defied! I will burn this entire world to the ground and rule over the ashes!¡±

    ¡°I like her!¡±  said Flusoh.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see how willing she is to turn that fury on herself,¡±  thought Jeremiah. The diagram read Strengthen Adhesion.

    He waited for Madam Furchot to turn her attention to a yet undestroyed piece of furniture, and slipped out from under the bed. Board in hand, he charged the diagram as he leapt towards her.

    The sound of his incantation caught her attention. She turned just as Jeremiah reached her. He struck her in the face with the piece of wood at the same moment she projected a bolt of lightning into his chest.

    Jeremiah convulsed. His body seized with rigidity, then fell limp. His vision flashed white as he collapsed, and he became aware of falling, more pain.

    ¡°Insolent bastard!¡± An explosion. Jeremiah opened his eyes and found himself in a reading room. Some of the bookshelves were burning. Above him, visible through the hole in the center of the bedroom floor, Madam Furchot was trying to wrench the piece of wood off of her face where Jeremiah had Adhered it.

    She was blinded, but no less dangerous. With a flex of her arms, the top of the tower exploded in a wave of magical force. Jeremiah could see the night sky as rubble began raining down around him. He crawled to the stairs that would take him further down the tower, his body screaming in pain at every motion.

    Fire blasted downwards past the staircase in a tight swirling column, coring the center of the tower. Jeremiah screamed as the flames scorched his skin and threw himself down the stairs. Something high above him exploded as he reached the front door. He threw the wooden bar, pushed the door open, and fled.

    The open door created a great sucking wind as air rushed into the tower to feed fire within. Jeremiah ran as fast as he could to anywhere at all. The heat was following him, biting into every inch of his skin. He had to find a well, or canal, or¡­

    He was yanked to the ground and doused in water. There was a hissing noise as relief settled over him.

    ¡°You were a bit on fire there, lad. No worries, all taken care of,¡± said Pete. He continued pouring a skin of water over Jeremiah¡¯s back and head. ¡°You seem to have upset the good Madam Furchot, she¡¯s on quite the rampage. I do believe that tower is done for. Pity that.¡±

    Jeremiah peeled his blackened shirt away from his torso. The skin underneath was blistered red, spreading from the center of his chest like a sun.

    ¡°I¡¯ve a salve or two for burns,¡± said Pete. ¡°Remind me to grab some for you. Did you manage to retrieve the necklace?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Pete, I got it,¡± said Jeremiah through clenched teeth. The burning wouldn¡¯t stop. In the distance, another explosion.

    ¡°Splendid! Let us depart before the good madam finishes with her tower and diverts her attention elsewhere.¡±

 Chapter 37. Your Witness

    Chapter 37. Your Witness

    ¡°This one is quite simple,¡± said Pete, ¡°All I need you to do is sneak into that home right there and have the man inside ingest a single drop of this tonic.¡± He waggled a tiny bottle of a clear liquid.

    ¡°I¡¯m drawing the line. I¡¯m not going to poison anyone for you,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Threaten me however you want, but I¡¯m no assassin.¡±

    ¡°Hush, hush, hush! No, no, dear lad, perish the thought. Ol Pete is no assassin, heavens forbid.¡±

    ¡°You told me you have people killed just a couple hours ago,¡± said Jeremiah. His skin still burning from his encounter with Madam Furchot.

    Pete rubbed his eyes. ¡°Er, yes, I suppose I did. Pardon me lad, I find myself in need of rest after a harrowing few days. But no, this is no poison. It¡¯s nothing but a simple tonic that will raise the ire of the drinker. Place him in a foul mood come the morning.¡±

    ¡°You want me to put him in a bad mood?¡± asked Jeremiah. There had to be simpler ways to do that. ¡°I could just throw a rock through his window, that¡¯d certainly put me in a bad mood.¡±

    ¡°Lad, you¡¯ll forgive my impatience, but we are on a tight schedule. Suffice to say I  need  him in a bad mood. Not defiant in the face of forces arrayed against him. Now, if you please, we have one more stop after this one, and it must be timed precisely.¡±

    Jeremiah glanced at the house Pete had indicated. ¡°Pete, he¡¯s awake. He¡¯s right there, I can literally see him working.¡±

    The man was young, in the prime of his life. A lantern illuminated the room where he bent over a reading desk. Beside him was a wine glass and half-empty bottle. He wore the same look of ardent concentration Jeremiah had seen on Delilah¡¯s face during long, challenging nights.The hour was well past midnight, but this man was awake as day, scribbling furiously.

    ¡°Counselor Berard is a hardworking man, to be sure,¡± said Pete. ¡°Now get to it, if you will, I have a particularly tight schedule to keep.¡± He pressed the tonic into Jeremiah¡¯s hand and disappeared into the night.

    The home was a first floor apartment. Jeremiah was thankful for that small favor at least. His arms still ached from the tower climb.

    ¡°This guy isn¡¯t going to sleep anytime soon, is he?¡±   thought Jeremiah.

    ¡°He¡¯s likely got a court date in the morning. He¡¯s refreshing and planning his strategy,¡±  said Delilah.

    ¡°So no cat nap before?¡±

    ¡°Never!¡±  said Delilah.

    Jeremiah watched for a time, obscured by the darkness of the streets. Counselor Berard seemed completely unaware of the world outside.

    ¡°Could cause a distraction and try to slip in,¡±  thought Jeremiah. It seemed risky. If Counselor Berard suspected something was amiss, he would become suspicious and watchful.

    ¡°This calls for a double bluff,¡±  said Bruno.  ¡°First you¡¯ll need a filament thread, then-¡±

    ¡°No,¡±  Jeremiah silenced Bruno¡¯s teachings,  ¡°this is a job for a mage.¡±

    Jeremiah pulled out a dead rat. He carried at least one at all times now, just in case.

    Rise

    The tiny rat bubble sprang into existence. He had missed it. Placing the tonic bottle in the rat¡¯s mouth, he sent it to the front door, only to discover the bottle was too large to squeeze underneath. The rat scampered back to Jeremiah.

    ¡°Gods forgive me.¡±  He unscrewed the bottle and poured the entirety of the liquid into the rat¡¯s mouth, letting the muscle memory of swallowing carry it down into the rat¡¯s stomach.

    The rat, now unburdened by the bottle, slipped inside.

    ¡°That¡¯s step one,¡±  thought Jeremiah. It took only a little maneuvering to get the rat into the same room as the man. But how to get the liquid into the glass surreptitiously?

    Climb

    Jeremiah could barely make out the rat as it crept up the side of the desk. Counselor Berard, engrossed in his work, didn¡¯t notice the small creature hidding behind the wine bottle.

    The tonic was right there, within arm¡¯s reach of the glass, but how to get it in without Counselor Berard seeing it? The rat held perfectly still as Jeremiah thought, as only the dead can wait.

    ¡°Maybe a dropper?¡±  thought Jeremiah,  ¡°Something that would fit in those little rat¡­hands¡­¡±

    Rats had hands. Hands tipped with teeny tiny claws.

    The rat touched the wine bottle with a paw. Jeremiah chastised himself. He was wasting time. There was no way to control a rat with that much precision¡­right?

    He had always made an effort to make his bubbles as small as he could, requiring as little focus as possible. But what if he made the bubble larger? If he allowed it to take up more of his brain space, would it be more  him ?

    Jeremiah concentrated on the bubble. He cut out all other distractions and gave it every ounce of his focus.

    The bubble began to grow. At the same time, Jeremiah¡¯s sense of his surroundings begin to fade. The tiny rat bubble was larger now than a horse, larger than when he¡¯d raised Narooka the minotaur. It filled his mind. It was nearly as much him as he was.

    He could feel the smoothness of the glass. He could feel the pressure on his sharp claws, already biting into the surface. Jeremiah raised his hand, raised his claw, and together they began to scratch. Jeremiah could hear the sound through his tiny sensitive ears; close and loud, but much too quiet for the big oafish ears of people.

    Decay

    Except that wasn¡¯t enough. The bubble snapped back to minuscule as Jeremiah¡¯s frustration flared again.

    ¡°Stupid! I can¡¯t charge the rune without being able to touch it. I can¡¯t cast through   the rat¡­can I?¡±

    Jeremiah reinflated the bubble, expanded it as large as he could. He smelled the wine, he felt the warmth of the room, the wood under his feet. Jeremiah spoke the magic words aloud through his human mouth, but placed his rat hand upon the glass.

    A vast surge of energy sucked the air from his lungs. He was aware of nothing until his head smacked the cobble street. The rat¡¯s bubble snapped back to tiny as Jeremiah¡¯s consciousness tried to reassert itself.

    Hide

    The command was weakly conveyed, but thankfully hiding was a rat¡¯s first instinct and little force of will was needed.

    ¡°Oi! On your feet! Move!¡±

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯ve got to be kidding me,¡±  thought Jeremiah.

    ¡°You think I¡¯m having a laugh?¡± growled the guard. Apparently Jeremiah had spoken aloud.

    The baton struck Jeremiah in the liver, just as guards were trained. Jeremiah spasmed in pain and scrambled to his feet.

    ¡°Just fell, sirs, knocked my head,¡± said Jeremiah pointing to where he could feel blood trickling down his jaw.

    A movement caught his eye, and he glanced over just as the Counselor Berard¡¯s wine bottle exploded. The man jumped to his feet and cursed so loudly it caught the attention of the guards, who followed Jeremiah¡¯s gaze.

    ¡°A peeper, is it?¡± said the guard. The baton swung again, this time into Jeremiah¡¯s stomach. Jeremiah doubled over, his guts churning from the blow.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Counselor Berard left from the room, likely looking for something to clean the mess.

    Climb

    ¡°Climb? Climb what?" The guard lifted Jeremiah¡¯s chin upward with the baton. His partner glanced up at the apartment¡¯s roof, scanning for signs of danger.

    The rat scaled the desk, navigating around broken shards of the wine bottle. It stood on its hind legs to reach the rim of the glass. It was imperative the rat not tip the glass¡ªthis was going to be his one and only shot. Jeremiah increased the size of the bubble, gripping the rim of the glass tightly. There was pain and his head shot back, the rat mimicking his motion as the guard yanked on his hair.

    ¡°You¡¯ve picked the wrong man on the wrong night, boyo,¡± said the guard.

    Jeremiah had no idea how to make a rat throw up. It wasn¡¯t something rats frequently did. He had only one idea. The bubble shrank.

    ¡°Picked the right little lady for a tummy tickle though, didn¡¯t I? What do I owe you?¡± Jeremiah wheezed out. Jeremiah had no idea what it meant, but it meant something to the guard.

    The bubble grew.

    The rat vomited the liquid contained in its stomach into the glass. The clear tonic mixed with dark red wine mixed, along with other assorteds that had been left behind when the rat expired.

    Hide.

    The bubble shrank, and Jeremiah lay in a puddle of his own vomit, being bludgeoned mercilessly by the guards for his defiance.

    When Jeremiah stopped responding to the blows, something he had learned to do very quickly, the guards relented. One of them turned Jeremiah¡¯s head with his boot. ¡°I¡¯m gonna to take a walk around the block, and if you ain¡¯t gone by the time I get back, we¡¯re gonna wallop you again. And we¡¯ll keep walkin and keep wallopin til you¡¯re gone or dead. Got me?¡±

    ¡°Yes sirs,¡± whimpered Jeremiah.

    The guards left. Jeremiah raised himself high enough to see into the window. Counselor Berard was holding a wine-sodden rag and looking dejectedly at the mess left behind. With a sigh, he grabbed the wine glass and downed the contents in a single gulp, then spent a few minutes gagging and drinking as much water as he could swallow.

    ?

    ?

    Jeremiah leaned on Pete¡¯s shoulder as Pete hurried him along. The sky was just starting to lighten. Jeremiah¡¯s entire body ached, various contusions swelling where he had endured the worst of the beating.

    ¡°Come now, lad, come now. We musn¡¯t dawdle, we have precious little time,¡± said Pete. His typical air of utter control was fraying. People were starting to appear in the streets, laborers mostly, but they were still sparse and had no interest in the two of them.

    ¡°Pete, please,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°I¡¯m really beat up. Can this wait? Even for a breather?¡± Everything hurt, everything continued to hurt. The miracle of either enchanting or necromancy he had discovered was pocketed away for when the excitement of the revelation wouldn¡¯t be marred by the concussion likely he had.

    ¡°No! We have very little time,¡± said Pete, his pace quickening. He shot a furtive glance over his shoulder at the sliver of sun.

    He pulled them up to a small townhouse home, one of many in a row. No longer were they in the presence of lawyers and men of high trade.

    ¡°Very simple,¡± said Pete, propping Jeremiah up and smoothing his blood-slick hair. ¡°You are going to enter that home there and you are going to tell the man of the house to say that Darcassin Aewarin was with him for the entirety of the night in question.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just delivering a message?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Ah, I missed a critical component. You are going to do whatever you need to do to make sure he agrees to this, whether he likes it or not. He won¡¯t,¡± clarified Pete. ¡°Off you go!¡±

    ¡°The facade is fracturing,¡±  said Delilah,  ¡°the pressure is mounting. Time is running out."

    "He is¡­fill in the blank, Jay,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Desperate.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, Pete, I think I need to tap out,¡± said Jeremiah. He slumped against Pete and let his head hang. ¡°I¡¯m really hurt.¡±

    ¡°Dear lad, I truly do not have time to once again explain to you the consequences of your petulance. Now, if we can¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Jeremiah interrupted. ¡°You do what you need to do, but this just isn¡¯t happening.¡± He disentangled himself from Pete and began limping home, defeated and broken. It was an easy role to play.

    ¡°Let him think he pushed too hard. Let him offer a little carrot instead of all this stick.¡±  Jeremiah put a bit more sway in his limp.

    ¡°Jay, wait!¡± Pete ran in front of him and held him by the shoulders. ¡°I know it¡¯s been a long night and clearly you¡¯ve suffered, but there¡¯s just one more task ahead of you. An easy one, compared to the truly inspired performances you¡¯ve managed this evening. I ask you to reach down deep, find that hidden well of strength you know you have, and repay your honest debts. I¡¯ve been good to you, haven¡¯t I? Do it for ol¡¯ Pete.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha,¡±  thought Jeremiah.

    ¡°Sorry Pete, I just can¡¯t. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be fine without this one piece of your plan. Or you can always go do it yourself, right? I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got time.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t  do  things, Jay! I¡­¡± Pete huffed in frustration. ¡°Okay, what do you want?¡±

    ¡°A favor,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Of the most serious and powerful variety. Whatever I want, whenever I want, with no limits on¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, fine! For godssake, boy, I¡¯ll grant you whatever your heart desires, just get in there!¡±

    Jeremiah held out his hand for Pete to shake on the deal. Pete raised his hand and froze, staring at Jeremiah¡¯s. Something about the action was both alien to Pete and intimately familiar. There was fear in his eyes, real fear. Then Pete grit his teeth, shook Jeremiah¡¯s hand, and pushed him toward the door.

    Jeremiah turned. ¡°Hey, actually, do you have any kind of a pick-me-up? I could really use¡ª¡±

    ¡°Top shelf!¡± declared Pete and jammed a glass bottle with an atomizer into Jeremiah¡¯s mouth, like a perfume bottle. Pete puffed it once and Jeremiah inhaled. The pain dulled, colors got brighter, the night receded just a little bit more, and he was flooded with energy.

    ¡°Woo! Alright let¡¯s do this,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°This is wrong,¡±  said Delilah and Allison.

    ¡°I am aware,¡±  said Jeremiah.

    Jeremiah knocked, and a matronly elven woman opened the door. She wore a simple apron, her hands were dusted with white flour, and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun. She smiled at Jeremiah. ¡°Good morning, how can¡ª¡±

    Jeremiah punched her in the face as hard as he could. She screamed and spun away, blood shooting from her nose. Jeremiah grabbed the back of her dress and pulled her against him in a choke, pressing the blade of his dagger to her throat.

    There was a loud clattering as a boy appeared. Fists balled and shaking, years away from manhood, he screeched, ¡°Let her go! Momma, get away from him!¡±

    ¡°Get on the ground!¡± Jeremiah shouted, with as much authority as he could muster. The boy raised his hands in compliance and knelt, tears springing to his eyes.

    An elven man turned the corner wielding a loaded warbow as long as Jeremiah was tall. He had all the fear of a lion facing down a mouse. ¡°Wrong house.¡±

    ¡°Eh, eh, eh!¡± Jeremiah pressed the knife harder against the woman¡¯s throat, drawing a dot of blood, ¡°Don¡¯t do anything stupid. You loose that arrow, you might hit her.¡± He yanked on the woman¡¯s neck, drawing her up higher between him and the arrow.

    ¡°Won¡¯t,¡± said the man.

    The calmness. That terrible calmness. The prospect of shooting Jeremiah around his own bleeding and struggling wife was nothing short of boring.

    Jeremiah pointed his free arm at the man¡¯s son, spoke the magic words, and launched a ball of acid on the floor just in front of the boy. The wooden floor degraded instantly, pitting and smoldering, and the boy retreated with a cry of pain as a few errant drops found his skin.

    ¡°It gets worse,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°You put that bow down now or I¡¯ll whisper a word in your wife¡¯s ear and drive her insane. I¡¯ve got the magic to do it.¡± That particular detail was a rumor he had heard about himself back before he had met his friends, fresh from Flusoh¡¯s tutelage.

    The man grumbled, like he was annoyed magic was involved, but he angled the bow away from Jeremiah. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°When you get on the stand, you¡¯re going to tell the court that Darcassin Aewarin was with you for the entirety of the night in question. Fill in whatever details you want, but he was with you. Do you understand?¡±

    The man didn¡¯t answer at first, only gazed dispassionately at Jeremiah. His eyes flickered.

    ¡° He¡¯s eyeing a shot! ¡± said Allison.

    ¡°It won¡¯t be worth it!¡± Jeremiah shouted. ¡°You¡¯ll never get her back! You can still have a long and happy life together. Wake up from this bad dream or live an endless nightmare¡ªit¡¯s up to you.¡±

    The man¡¯s stony facade fractured, finally really looking at his wife and son and not at a problematic target. ¡°Fine.¡±

    ¡°Good, good answer,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°Now, set the bow on the ground.¡± The man didn¡¯t move. ¡°I¡¯ve got no interest in hurting this woman but gods help me, I will break this family if you don¡¯t do as I say.¡±

    Without breaking eye contact with Jeremiah, the slowly man bent and lowered the bow to the floor.

    ¡°Kick it over here, hard.¡±

    The bow slid across the floor to Jeremiah¡¯s feet. There was a moment of silence as he and the man stared at each other.

    Jeremiah whispered into the ear of the woman, ¡°I sincerely apologize,¡± and shoved her away. Then he fled from the house, dodging quickly into the maze of alleys in case the man decided to pursue him.

    ¡°If I knew about this, I couldn¡¯t look at you the same way ever again,¡±  said Allison and Delilah as he ran.

    ¡°They don¡¯t understand. It¡¯s okay. I would.¡±  said Bruno.

 Chapter 38. Boom

    Chapter 38. Boom

    Jeremiah supposed he ought to feel some sense of relief for having completed all of Pete¡¯s tasks and freed himself from future expectation. Heck, he even earned himself a favor from Pete out of the deal. However, all he felt was exhaustion, bone-deep, and pain from the burns and beatings he had suffered. He trudged towards home.

    No sooner had he reached the dwelling of Cell Four than the door opened and Melissa and Dronkal trooped out. ¡°There you are!¡± said Sweet Melissa, hurrying towards him. ¡°We were wondering. Come on, you and I have a job today.¡±

    ¡°Please,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°in the name of all that is good and holy in the world, let me rest. Pete has been kicking my ass all night with his nonsense and¨C¡±

    Dronkal pushed Melissa aside and grabbed Jeremiah by the collar, pulling him up on his toes. ¡°You listen to me,¡± he growled. ¡°You owe the Stonefists everything.  Everything . If you¡¯ve messed up bad enough that Pete rakes you over the coals, that¡¯s your problem. But you¡¯re a part of this cell, that means you do the cell¡¯s work. You understand?¡±

    Jeremiah held up his hands defensively. ¡°Okay! Okay, Dronk, relax. I¡¯m just tired. If it¡¯s that important, I¡¯ll do it. I was just asking.¡±

    Dronkal snorted and released Jeremiah. ¡°Trying to get out of work. That¡¯ll teach you not to fool around with Pete.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, Jay, family comes first,¡± said Sweet Melissa, not sounding sorry at all. ¡°But you can go home right after this and rest, I promise.¡±

    It took every ounce of strength Jeremiah had to turn away from home to follow Sweet Melissa back towards the city, but he did. They made their way through the slums towards the nicer part of town, where morning traffic was just picking up.

    ¡°It¡¯s my own fault. I threw in with Pete and that¡¯s my fault, and I tried to use that to get out of duties to my gang,¡± thought Jeremiah.

    ¡°Your what?¡± said Delilah

    ¡°You¡¯re worthy of respect Jay, even when you can justify when you¡¯re not,¡± said Allison.

    Sweet Melissa was in high spirits. ¡°I hope your grip strength is intact, cause you¡¯re really going to need it!¡±

    ¡°Do you ever say, like, normal stuff?¡± asked Jeremiah. His limbs felt like lead. He wished he could absorb some of her bubbly energy.

    She giggled. ¡°I can tell the difference between human tendon and elf tendon by the sound it makes when you strum it. I gave up on normal a long time ago.¡±.

    BOOM.

    The explosion started innocuously enough, with a murmur of confusion among the pedestrians. Feet stopping, hands pointing and, as Jeremiah looked up to see what they were looking at, a tall column of earth climbing into the sky, miles away.

    Like a gray flower, the column blossomed up and outward towards the apex of its trajectory. It rose, dwarfing the tallest buildings and rivaling the height of the central palace of Elminia itself. There was a granularity to it, and the gray whole slowly spread in every direction.

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful¡­¡± gasped Sweet Melissa.

    The dust reached them first, carried on a warm wind. Then smaller fragments moving impossibly fast, pocking the earth with little puffs.

    There was a hum, and something zipped through the middle of the street, whining like a mosquito in Jeremiah¡¯s ear. Those unfortunate enough to be in its path were reduced to a red mist as their bodies disintegrated from the sheer force of whatever it was.

    People began screaming. Rooftops exploded. Stones the size of oxen began to rain down, smashing buildings to smithereens. The streams of traffic were suddenly thrown to the winds of chaos as people began to scatter haphazardly, blind fear whipping them into a frenzy.

    ¡°Come on!¡± Jeremiah grabbed Sweet Melissa and hauled her out of the street with him. People were either running indoors or away from the source of the explosion. Jeremiah chose the former. The stores and buildings were packed to bursting within moments as more debris cut through the crowd outside.

    It was a lottery. There was no decision that would spare you from the rocks and boulders if it was your time to take one. People hidden beneath stalwart roofs and thick beams were crushed by the entire building. People frozen in the street were untouched as pebbles that could puncture steel missed them by a hair¡¯s breadth.

    Jeremiah pulled Sweet Melissa behind an upturned market stall. He raked his inscription tools across the wood and slapped his hands against it in a matter of moments.

    Strengthen.

    No sooner had he finished then a stone as big as a melon slammed into the wood and bounced away at an obtuse angle. Another man drew the short straw and caught it. A sequence of three more impacts cracked the magically reinforced wood. Jeremiah threw himself over Sweet Melissa, holding onto her tight as if his body could actually protect her.

    For an eternity, they waited through the rain of death and pain. The screaming never ceased, and was only periodically drowned out by a larger impact. Jeremiah stayed where he was, eyes squeezed shut, certain each moment would be his last.

    Gradually, the rain lessened. No whizzing pebbles of death. No massive stones crashing through the sky. The screams of terror reduced to cries of pain, whimpers and moans.

    Jeremiah lifted his head. The air was colored with a sepia mist of dust raised from the ground. His ears rang in the relative quiet.

    They ventured out together, hand in quivering hand at the devastation that had overwhelmed the city in a single grisly, bloody moment. Jeremiah¡¯s mind struggled to comprehend the bodies, the dismemberment, the pain, the destruction. A distant part of him screamed at him to help, to do something¡ªanything!

    But it was all too much. Far too much.

    Then he saw Pete.

    Pete was sitting at a table outside of a cafe which longer existed. He sipped a cup of tea, unblemished by the universal fog of dust settling over them.

    ¡°Pete! What the hell are you¡ª¡± He stopped as Pete regarded him with the usual casual smile. Jeremiah looked to the cloud of dust still rising in the distance, now mingling with the black smoke of an active fire. ¡°Pete¡­did you do this?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t do anything, lad. I just set pieces where they need be and let nature take its course.¡±

    ¡°Pete¡­¡± Even Jeremiah¡¯s numbness couldn¡¯t protect him from the trickle of horror and realization. ¡°Did  I  do this?¡±

    Pete chuckled and sipped the tea. ¡°You¡¯re as guilty as I am, lad. That is to say, not at all. Best you divest your inquisitive nature from this moment in time. You¡¯re far more suited to be an extra set of hands for these poor people, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Jeremiah, his skin and clothes sticky with the dusty blood of those killed around him, grabbed Pete¡¯s unblemished collar and yanked him out of the chair. ¡°You sonnova bitch! What the hell did you do? What the hell did  I  do?!¡±Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°Calm yourself lad,¡± said Pete. ¡°A very powerful woman with a very short temper encountered a string of bad luck and disrespect at a time when tempers in this city are already exceptionally short. Granted, I could never have predicted she would have such an¡­apocalyptic reaction. But, to my knowledge, you cannot control the will of others. Now, if you don¡¯t mind,¡± Pete pried Jeremiah¡¯s fingers open, ¡°there are people that need your help. Off you go now.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± said Sweet Melissa, appearing beside Jeremiah. ¡°Come on, we¡¯ve still got a job to do,¡±

    ¡°Sweet Melissa,¡± said Pete with a nod. Jeremiah had never heard anyone call her that to her face.

    ¡°Hi Pete,¡± said Sweet Melissa.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Can you tie tourniquets? There¡¯s some people bleeding and I can¡ª¡±

    ¡°What? Jay, we have  work  to do,¡± said Sweet Melissa. ¡°Let someone else take care of all this.¡±

    Jeremiah was confused. ¡°We need to help these people. Whatever you¡¯re doing can wait.¡±

    ¡°Umm, no Jay, it can¡¯t. We¡¯re on a schedule here.¡± She seemed completely oblivious to what was happening around them.

    ¡°Go on without me then, I need to stay here and help,¡± said Jeremiah. He had enough biology knowledge to at least enact some first aid.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Melissa whipped a lasso around Jeremiah¡¯s neck and yanked, pulling him down to a knee. ¡°Family. Comes. First. Do you understand me? Now get your shit together, un-trauma yourself, and move out.¡±

    Jeremiah grabbed the lasso cord in one hand and sliced it with a dagger blade from the other. He stood up, free from Melissa¡¯s control, ¡°No. People need help, I¡¯m going to help them. Go on without me.¡±

    Melissa¡¯s hand reflexively flicked and had another lasso loop tied and prepared, but she didn¡¯t use it. ¡°See you at home,¡± she said darkly, and disappeared into the mist of destruction.

    Jeremiah helped those he could see as best he could, but there were always more. Voices begging him, or anyone, to save them. He had precious little, but was able to tear clothes for bandages, tie tourniquets, fetch water. There were others like him, trying to help, and they worked together to move rubble and search for survivors.

    The city guard was soon dispatched to start moving the dead, but precious little effort seemed to go towards saving those still living.

    He saw no sign of Allison among the guards. There was no way to know what had happened to his friends, if they were safe or not. He pushed them from his mind and returned to work.

    Jeremiah saved dozens, but all he could see were the hundreds, the thousands beyond his reach.

    Darkness fell again. When Jeremiah had returned home, his already stressed body was nearing its breaking point. He had spent hours pressing on wounds and dragging bodies into piles. The response from Elminia had been slow, and woefully ineffective, not that there was much to be done about many of the injured. He walked into his room and collapsed face down on the bed, a puff of dust roiling out from him.

    ¡°Hey Jay,¡± said Dronkal from his door.

    ¡°Uh?¡± Jeremiah mumbled into the pillow.

    ¡°Rough day?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Something exploded. Killed a lot of people. Pete had me running around all night too.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm. Melissa says you skipped out on the job. That true?¡± Dronkal was closer, beside the bed.

    ¡°Had to. People were hurt.¡±

    ¡°I gotcha, I gotcha,¡± said Dronkal softly, ¡°you saw people hurting and you had to act. Didn¡¯t sit right with you to walk away from that.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°it was the right thing to do.¡±

    Dronkal sat on the side of Jeremiah¡¯s bed, ¡°I feel that. Some real shit went down today, lot of people hurt, and a lot of people dead. Sometimes a man needs to do what¡¯s right, I understand that. Melissa doesn¡¯t, she has a hard time with stuff like that."

    Dronkal put one hand on Jeremiah¡¯s back, a gentle and reassuring pressure, then grabbed Jeremiah¡¯s arm and yanked. There was a sickening pop as the bone popped free of the socket. Jeremiah screamed into the pillow and tried to pull away from Dronkal, but he couldn¡¯t move.

    ¡°You¡¯re alright, you¡¯re alright,¡± said Dronkal, patting him on the back. ¡°That¡¯s a dislocation, very clean. You know who''s good at fixing dislocations? Melissa. Go say you¡¯re sorry for ditching her and she¡¯ll fix that right up. Remember Jay, we are what¡¯s right. Family comes first.¡±

    <hr>

    A cheer of greeting went up when he staggered into the Stonefists headquarters. Jeremiah ignored it. He wasn¡¯t even sure where he was going until he ended up outside Monty¡¯s office. Without even bothering to knock, he opened the door.

    It was dark. Empty. Jeremiah supposed Monty must be busy on a day like this. Maybe that was for the best. He curled up on the floor and slept.

    A peep from Gus alerted Jeremiah a moment before the door opened. He raised his head and whimpered at the pain radiating through his body.

    ¡°Good evening, Jay,¡± said Monty, as though this were a perfectly reasonable way to run into each other. ¡°Tough day?¡±

    ¡°I did it. It was me.¡± The words were out before Jeremiah even realized what he was saying, and then the tears choked him. His head dropped to his chest and he wept, sobbing silently in the dark.

    Monty rested a hand on Jeremiah¡¯s back and simply held it there while he cried. The kind touch made him hate himself even more, for his lies, for his treachery, for his wretched power. He didn¡¯t deserve kindness. He wished Monty would strike him, throw him out of the office and even out of the gang. Let him succumb to whatever horrors were infecting Elminia.

    But Monty was patient. As Jeremiah¡¯s tears exhausted themselves, he lit the candle on his desk and waited.

    Finally, Jeremiah spoke. His voice was a hoarse whisper. ¡°I want out.¡±

    ¡°Out?¡± asked Monty.

    ¡°Out. Out of the Stonefists. Out of this life.¡±

    ¡°You just got here,¡± said Monty. ¡°I realize you¡¯ve come to enjoy certain privileges, but you still have a lot to learn.¡±

    Jeremiah shook his head. It hurt. ¡°What you said last time, that chance to escape. Give it to me. I¡¯m the one. I need it.¡±

    ¡°You are talented and resourceful,¡± said Monty, ¡°and shockingly naive. You may someday prove to me that you are exceptional enough to deserve that chance, in which case I will happily grant it. But not today. Not yet.¡±

    Jeremiah swayed as he stood. ¡°You want exceptional?¡±

    ¡°Abort!¡±  said Allison.

    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡±  said Bruno.

    He drew his dagger as he approached the desk, and Monty raised an eyebrow. But Jeremiah simply set the tip of the knife against the surface and began to carve.

    Strengthen And Heat.

    He muttered the incantation and set the runes aglow. The blue of the charge gave way to the red hot of burning wood, but only within the etched lines of the diagram. Jeremiah stepped back, letting his work speak for itself.

    Monty was silent as he contemplated the glowing design. They burned brightly for several minutes, then faded.

    ¡°Pete knew, didn¡¯t he?¡± asked Monty, running a finger over the lines.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Curse Pete for knowing. Curse Pete for forcing Jeremiah¡¯s power to hurt people. Again.

    ¡°Tell me, plainly, what this magic does,¡± said Monty.

    ¡°It changes things,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Alters materials to be different.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got this in your pocket, and you¡¯re looking for more?¡± Monty said. ¡°Go live in a tower and hoard wealth with your magic scribbles.¡±

    ¡°Not rich,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Free.¡± He was playing the part, yes, but he was also not lying. Being beholden to others, forced to their will. He longed for freedom from servitude.

    Monty thought for a long time. Jeremiah let him. He was in no hurry.

    At last Monty spoke again. ¡°This explains a lot.¡± He sat down heavily behind the desk. ¡°But it changes nothing. Being able to cast magic doesn¡¯t make you exceptional.¡±

    It was Jeremiah¡¯s turn to think. There was only one possibility his mind kept returning to, no matter how forcefully he tried to push it away. ¡°What if I bring you the treasure of Cassidy Korrvas?¡±

    Monty laughed. The sound of it made Jeremiah¡¯s head ring. ¡°No one could fault you with a lack of ambition! Sense, maybe. What makes you think you can conquer the Golden House, oh master thief?¡±

    ¡°I can do it,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to lose a good man to foolhardiness,¡± said Monty. ¡°Be patient. I promise good things will come to you.¡±

    ¡°I can do it.¡±

    Monty sighed. ¡°Humans are all the same. You¡¯re not the first to tell me this, you know.¡±

    ¡°I am not the same,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Monty leaned forward, the candle throwing his lined face in sharp relief. ¡°Jay of Shabad. If you bring me the treasure of Cassidy Korrvas, the chance is yours. But don¡¯t. I¡¯ve seen better men than you walk into that tomb. You¡¯ll die prideful just like the others.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± Jeremiah drew himself to look Monty straight in the eye. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I can do it.¡±

 Chapter 39. Enchanter

    Chapter 39. Enchanter

    Jeremiah sat on top of a poor excuse for a roof on the edge of The Pit. The embering smoke from a thousand fires glowed and sparked like tiny thunderclouds emerging from chimneys all throughout the city. Jeremiah watched the great golden mansion at The Pit¡¯s root. Its windows glowed with soft flickering light like they did every night. The exterior was illuminated by torches lit by the guards, and the entire building reflected and magnified every light The Pit created until it practically glowed. It was like a trophy for one man''s victory over the inevitable.

    ¡°Hey Bruno,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°What? Bullshit you heard me,¡± said Bruno sitting down next to Jeremiah.

    ¡°The alternative is I just say ¡®Hey Bruno¡¯ every so often in case you''re nearby,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Bruno grumbled, unaware that was exactly the case.

    ¡°So, the Gilded Tomb huh?¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°So you¡¯re familiar?¡± asked Jeremiah. He wasn¡¯t surprised.

    ¡°It¡¯s legendary in thief circles.. Used to be considered the greatest challenge a rogue could face, now it''s just considered an interesting way to die,¡± said Bruno. He produced a bottle of amber liquor and two small glasses.

    ¡°What¡¯s the occasion?¡± asked Jeremiah. The bottle looked fancy, the cut glass refracted what little light there was, making the bottle sparkle even at night.

    ¡°We just miss you,¡± said Bruno. Jeremiah chuckled. ¡°We do, really. Doesn¡¯t feel right without you around.¡±

    ¡°How are things back home?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    Bruno sighed and poured the pair of glasses, ¡°Not great. The house is gone. Allison¡¯s people got our stuff out, but there¡¯s nothing left but rubble.¡±

    Jeremiah took his shot, it was woody and strong, but tasted nice. He still gagged, but tried to mask it as a cough.

    ¡°Wuss,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Shut up,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Guessing the Gilded Tomb is your ticket in?¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Yup. All I have to do is rob a death trap and I¡¯m in. I hope you¡¯re having better luck,¡± said Jeremiah, coughing into his sleeve.

    ¡°Nope. This city is rife with secret societies and cults. There¡¯s one around every corner. Mostly they¡¯re filled with old, rich men that hire each others kids and have secret handshakes,¡± Bruno took his own shot, silently.

    Jeremiah refilled his glass, he needed to redeem himself. ¡°Not even interesting cults huh?¡±

    Bruno nodded, ¡°There was one that worshiped a cockroach god. That was interesting anyways. Not surprising that they scattered the moment they were discovered.¡±

    Jeremiah laughed, ¡°Hisspo! Yeah it¡¯s some kind of nature spirit that manifests as a cockroach.¡±

    Bruno echoed the laugh and poured a second shot of his own, ¡°How¡¯d you know that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s mentioned in Flusoh¡¯s books sometimes. Hisspo¡¯s ancient,¡± said Jeremiah. He brought the glass to his lips, but the smell made him pause. Not wanting to fail completely, he forced himself to take half a shot.

    ¡°New things every day,¡± said Bruno absently.

    They watched The Gilded Tomb together for a while, seeing the tiny men putter about, moving only inches from their perspective.

    ¡°I wanted to apologize,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°I didn''t realize what this whole ordeal was going to be like. I may have thought it was going to be easier than it was.¡±

    ¡°Thought maybe you¡¯d smarts your way out of it huh?¡± asked Bruno with a smirk.

    ¡°Yeah, maybe. I just¡­I didn¡¯t realize how unfair it was going to feel, you know? It¡¯s like the ground falls out from beneath you, and you try to climb out, but it just keeps falling away and there¡¯s nothing to grab,¡± said Jeremiah. He realized he knew that feeling. He felt that when he buried Vivica. He pursed his lips and hoped Bruno wouldn¡¯t say anything.

    ¡°Oh I know,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°I guess I just want to say that I get it now,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°You get what?¡± asked Bruno, taking his second shot and setting the glass down. He removed a black glove from one of his hands.

    ¡°I get what it¡¯s like. To live that life. To really be a part of-¡± Bruno reached over and slapped him across the cheek. Not as hard as he could, but hard enough to sting.

    Jeremiah put a hand to his burning cheek, ¡°Ow?¡±

    Bruno began putting his glove back on, ¡°You have been out here for, what, a month or two? You¡¯re tall, and have a history of being well fed. You can read, you can write, you didn¡¯t grow up stunted or damaged. And most of all, most of all, you can quit anytime you want. You can hang up your rags, come home, and people who care about you will welcome you with open arms. No one down there,¡± Bruno gestured at the dilapidated houses and soot choked fires, ¡°can just walk away. They¡¯ve been in it since day one, and they¡¯ll be in it till the day they die. No escape. The luckiest, smartest, and meanest of them might accomplish enough in their lives to give the kids of their kids a fighting chance to get out. But those stories are few and far between.¡±

    ¡°Alright sorry,¡± said Jeremiah defensively.

    ¡°No sorry. You don¡¯t know, you can¡¯t. You¡¯re past the point of ever knowing, and you passed it decades ago,¡± said Bruno.

    They didn¡¯t say anything for a while. Bruno took another shot, and Jeremiah took that as a sign of continued friendship.

    ¡°So, how are the girls?¡± asked Jeremiah, hoping Bruno would take the subject change.

    ¡°Allison¡¯s worries about you every day, but I think she enjoys being a guard. Delilah isn¡¯t doing so good, always wrapped up in new mail and legal challenges she needs to navigate. She¡¯s not taking the loss of her house very well either.¡±

    ¡°Poor girl, that¡¯s the only one she had left,¡± said Jeremiah. Delilah¡¯s moments of sentimentality were few and far between, but they were strong. That house was where she kept her heart.

    ¡°Poor girl indeed. Clearly not in her right mind nowadays,¡± said Bruno.

    Uh-oh, thought Jeremiah. This was leading somewhere.

    ¡°So¡­¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Sew buttons,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Maybe we should have a little talk about our friend Delilah,¡± said Bruno, filling Jeremiah¡¯s glass.

    ¡°Not sure there¡¯s much to talk about,¡± said Jeremiah. Or at least not much he wanted to talk about.

    ¡°I disagree. I think you two may have agreed to do a little something, once this mission is over,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°We were literally in another dimension when we talked about that,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°how could you possibly know that?¡± He took a full shot and embraced the gag, it made for less coughing.

    ¡°Don¡¯t need to be a fly on the wall to know what happened in there,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Alright, well what about it?¡± asked Jeremiah. His head was starting to swim, there wasn¡¯t much of him nowadays to absorb alcohol.

    Bruno put a hand on his shoulder, ¡°You know I love you buddy. But I think, for the sake of all that is good in the world, you should reconsider.¡±

    ¡°¡®For the sake of all that is good¡¯.¡± repeated Jeremiah, the absurdity made him laugh.

    ¡°It¡¯s true! Delilah is meant to marry into a power couple that will advance her goals and, hopefully, get her into a position of real power one day. Where she can do some real good,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Woah woah woah! Marry? We just agreed on a date, slow down Bruno.¡± Was he joking?

    ¡°I¡¯m just worried. You two run at different speeds, operate on different levels. I don¡¯t want to risk the only real family I¡¯ve ever known on a bad breakup, you know?¡± said Bruno, taking another shot. He refilled Jeremiah¡¯s.

    ¡°Yeah, that would suck,¡± said Jeremiah. This was Jeremiah¡¯s family now too. Jeopardizing that seemed foolish.

    ¡°Also, and I know I shouldn¡¯t be saying this, but she¡¯s kind of crazy. You know she doesn¡¯t really turn off right? That ambition is ceaseless. She¡¯s still technically dating some guy from a couple of years ago.¡±

    ¡°Technically?¡± said Jeremiah. This was news.

    ¡°Well, they never broke up. She just kind of¡­forgot about him I think. I don¡¯t want to see that happen to you.¡±

    Jeremiah looked out over the excuses for roofs of The Pit, so many lives and so many problems all playing out at once, totally isolated from each other. Was a date with an ambitious girl really such a danger?

    ¡°Thanks for worrying about us Bruno,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°You want what¡¯s best for all of us right?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°I¡­uh¡­¡± Jeremiah did want that. But it was only a date, why was Bruno taking this so seriously. Unless¡­

    ¡°Bruno, do you have a¡­a thing? For Delilah?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    Bruno sighed and fell backwards, looking up at the sky. He let his legs dangle off the edge of the roof and folded his arms behind his head. ¡°Not¡­no?¡± he said finally.

    ¡°That means yes,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°But not yes either. You know? She¡¯s Delilah. It¡¯s hard not to, once you¡¯ve spent any time around her. She gives you that urge to keep her safe, even though she doesn¡¯t need it,¡± said Bruno to the stars, ¡°like you¡¯re protecting something important, or precious, or rare, I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Jeremiah understood that feeling. It had come on strong when they encountered the stone golem. He laid back, copying Bruno. ¡°I get that¡­she¡¯s pretty too,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Oh yes,¡± said Bruno

    ¡°You going to mind if I don¡¯t look this particular gift horse in the mouth?¡± Even with that looming threat of disrupting the family, it felt like a particularly foolish decision to ignore the chance he had.

    Bruno didn¡¯t respond for a while. Jeremiah listened to the ugly sounds of The Pit at night; arguing, screams, the sounds of crumbling buildings.

    ¡°I understand,¡± said Bruno, ¡°I¡¯m happy for you. You know she¡¯s out of your league, right?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah. Honestly it¡¯s kind of a red flag that she would ever agree to a date with me.¡±

    ¡°It really does call her common sense into question,¡± said Bruno laughing. He poured two more glasses. They clicked them together and drank again.

    ¡°Heard what happened to Cutter,¡± said Bruno.

    Jeremiah sighed, this might not be a fun conversation. ¡°Yup,¡± was all he said.

    ¡°You okay? With what happened? I wouldn¡¯t take you for the type that could sleep well with that on his conscience,¡± said Bruno.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Jeremiah didn¡¯t actually know what happened to Cutter. He had told Melissa to deal with it, and didn¡¯t stick around to see how she would interpret his instructions. ¡°World¡¯s no worse for it,¡± said Jeremiah.

    He could see Bruno nod out of the corner of his eye, ¡°Good man. You¡¯re starting to learn some of those ugly truths of the world.

    ¡°You tell Delilah and Allison?¡± asked Jeremiah. He was a bit scared of what they might think.

    ¡°Hell no. What happens in the streets stays in the streets. They wouldn¡¯t understand what we do,¡± said Bruno

    ¡°We?¡± asked Jeremiah. That felt like being included in a very exclusive club.

    ¡°Yeah, we. Rogue types,¡± said Bruno, like it was obvious.

    Jeremiah nodded solemnly, desperately fighting the big dumb grin that threatened to take over his whole face.

    ¡°I also want to say sorry,¡± said Bruno. His voice was barely a mumble.

    ¡°For what?¡± asked Jeremiah. He turned to look at Bruno. Bruno still was looking straight up, but the mirth and joviality he always wore like a second skin was gone. He looked old. Tired.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I ever got past being compromised. Not being able to save the day doing the one thing I¡¯m good at. I think I may even feel a bit¡­well, threatened. You¡¯re doing my job. Poorly, sure, but you¡¯re doing it.¡±

    ¡°Had to add that ¡®poorly¡¯ didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯re doing a good job. Better job than I can do,¡± said Bruno quickly. He pounded the roof with his fist in frustration. Several tiles cracked to powder and slid away.

    ¡°Ever find out how that happened? Being exposed?¡±

    ¡°Nah. Don¡¯t think I ever will. It could be countless different things.

    ¡°So now what?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°We raid a death trap dungeon,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°¡®We?¡¯¡± said Jeremiah. It was a formality, he was going to ask them for help anyways. There was no way he could handle this on his own

    ¡°Yes, we. No offense, but I¡¯ve known some truly genius thieves that have never returned from The Gilded Tomb.¡± Bruno went to fill the glasses again, but decided against it.

    ¡°That bad huh?¡± Jeremiah missed the drink already.

    ¡°Likely the most dangerous thing we¡¯ve ever done, and that¡¯s saying something. That place serves no other purpose than to kill people that enter it.¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Desperate times?¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°Desperate measures?¡±

    ¡°For certain.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯m going to need all your equipment. Delilah¡¯s and Allison¡¯s too.¡±

    Bruno sat up in an instant. ¡°No¡­¡±

    ¡°I need you to secure me a place to work during the day¡­¡±

    Bruno began bouncing with excitement, ¡°No! You¡¯re kidding!¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m going to need all of my enchanting supplies. All of them,¡± Jeremiah gave Bruno a cocky smile.

    ¡°Is this it?! Is this it?!¡± Bruno grabbed Jeremiah and began shaking him.

    Jeremiah laughed, ¡°Yeah, I think this is it. I think I¡¯m ready to make us some magic equipm-¡±

    ¡°Ahahaha!¡± Bruno wrapped Jeremiah in a drunken hug, ¡°we¡¯re gonna be unstoppable! Can you make me a grappling hook that crawls around like a spider?!¡±

    ¡°No, but remind me to show you the one I did make.¡±

    Bruno released him, ¡°Allison and Delilah are already on board. They¡¯re champing at the bit to do anything actually, they¡¯ve been cooped up too long. Just need a way to sneak us in without anyone seeing,¡± said Bruno, ¡°this needs to look like you took it down alone.¡±

    ¡°Now wait a minute, is this even worth it? To save us from a bunch of lawsuits?¡± Jeremiah¡¯s day to day had become so all consuming, so pressing at every moment, that the greater picture had become blurry. He hadn¡¯t forgotten, but when his stomach was taking the reins the next copper was more important than secret cults and paper threats.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about that. I¡¯ve been thinking about it this whole time,¡± said Bruno, ¡°The fever is spiking, it¡¯s getting bad out there. Worse than it should be.¡± Bruno looked down at the streets below, and when he looked back Jeremiah saw fear in his eyes. It was terrifying.

    ¡°Have you felt it?¡± asked Bruno, ¡°The pulse of the city?¡±

    ¡°I think so,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°something¡¯s wrong, isn¡¯t it? More than just a crime wave or more poverty. I¡¯ve seen things¡­dark things. Things that go beyond desperation. It¡¯s in the people, it''s in the buildings, it¡¯s in everything.¡±

    Bruno nodded, ¡°I¡¯ve seen it too. Whatever sickness this city has, it¡¯s terminal.¡±

    ¡°Not unless we stop it,¡± said Jeremiah.

    <hr>

    It was a subject of heated debate, mostly Bruno arguing with himself, but eventually it was decided Jeremiah would take over the safe house bedroom for his enchantment workshop. The risk of being discovered performing magic was far too great anywhere else, and it could easily be written off as Jeremiah spending time with ¡°that lawyer girl who was slumming it and eager to make some bad decisions¡±.

    Jeremiah was anxious to begin. The cover story of visiting Delilah would make sense if he were only gone for a few days, but more than that and they¡¯d get suspicious. He still hadn¡¯t seen them since he¡¯d declined to accompany Sweet Melissa during The Tragedy, as the explosion was coming to be known, and he wasn¡¯t eager for them to come looking.

    Jeremiah demanded absolute isolation. With only a couple of days to outfit the entire party, hedidn¡¯t have time to waste on anything that wasn¡¯t either enchanting or resting to be able to enchant more. He didn¡¯t have time for their company, much as he might want it. Even Bruno was relegated to sleeping in the living room so as not to disturb him.

    He arrayed the equipment before him. Every bladed weapon had been polished and sharpened to a razor¡¯s edge, as Allison had taken to the task like a woman possessed. Every garment had been cleaned, pressed, and meticulously prepared for its transformation.

    It was time to put what he had learned to the test.

    The bedroom had transformed from a place of rest to one of industry. Jeremiah reviewed Thurok''s books, created test diagrams on bent pieces of scrap metal to ensure he would be able to navigate the various angles and materials of the three-dimensional shapes. The diagrams themselves were simpler than some that he¡¯d used during his jobs, but incorporating them into real-life objects was an entirely new challenge.

    Jeremiah pulled the final thread of silver through the finger tip of the glove and knotted it. Enchanting cloth required he sew the rune into the material with metallic thread. He was no stranger to sewing, often helping his mother with basic repairs, but it was arduous work, even for just a single Adhesion rune.

    He snipped the thread and slipped the glove over his hand. ¡°Okay, buddy, climbing gloves! Let¡¯s see how they feel.¡±

    Gus croaked softly

    Jeremiah spoke the magic words to charge the glove. The metallic wire glowed. He flexed his hand into a fist, feeling the wire against his skin. It was noticeable, but not troublesome. His hand wouldn¡¯t open again.

    ¡°Riiiight, right, right,¡± said Jeremiah. The glove had stuck to itself.

    ***

    Jeremiah hefted Allison¡¯s favored longsword. The etchings caught the lamp light in a sparse array of lines and runes. It wasn¡¯t the sprawling spiderweb-like script of masterwork enchantment that was on Allison¡¯s magic armor or Bruno¡¯s magic bow, but even the few runes were enough to strengthen the blade and maintain its finely sharpened edge.

    ¡°This is it! My first magic weapon.¡±

    Gus wriggled in his bowl so violently the water splashed and bubbled

    ¡°I agree, I did a pretty good job!¡± The most challenging parts, etching around the curves in the metal, had been made easier with his plate of decay, allowing him to erase mistakes, of which there had been many.

    Jeremiah put his hands on the sword, and prepared to charge it.

    ¡°Here we go¡­¡± He spoke the words, and felt magical energy rush into the blade, illuminating the tiny room in azure light.

    Carefully, gently, Jeremiah lifted the sword. It felt no different than before. He swung the blade at the corner of his wooden bedframe, and with no resistance at all, the sword¡¯s edge cleaved straight through.

    ¡°Woooooaaaaaah¡­¡±

    ***

    If Contact Cohesion

    ¡°Okay, this should solve the sticking problem,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°So long as I don¡¯t clap, but I wouldn¡¯t be doing that when I¡¯m climbing anyways.¡±

    Gus grumbled at the gloves.

    ¡°I know, I know. But it¡¯s just like those climbing bricks, it should work!¡±

    Jeremiah reached up and pressed his hands against a wall, and found the gloves stuck fast.

    ¡°It works!¡± Jeremiah said. He jumped up, determined to scale the small wooden wall and circumnavigate the room like Bruno had once challenged him to do. His hands slid out of the gloves and he dropped to the ground.

    Jeremiah sat up, rubbing his sore behind. ¡°So the  gloves  are sticking to the wall, my hands are not. Noted.¡± he looked up at the gloves, still hanging from where he had touched. ¡°And since the Contact point is touching the wall, there¡¯s no reason for the gloves to let go, is there?¡±

    Gus continued grumbling.

    ***

    The last of Bruno''s six throwing swords was unceremoniously thrown into the pile.

    ¡°I swear some of these have never even left the scabbard,¡± said Jeremiah. He rubbed the ache from the continued focus out of his eyes.

    Gus didn''t respond, he was sleeping. Jeremiah yawned. It was time for him to get some rest too.

    He moved to the window to let in the refreshing night breeze. The bedroom was becoming stifling with just him toiling away inside. Throwing open the shutters, he recoiled as the cheerful morning sun streamed in.

    ¡°Sonnuva bitch!¡± Jeremiah had apparently worked through the night and into the morning without realizing it.

    ¡°Acceptable,¡±  said Thurok.

    ***

    Strengthen And If Contact Gently Cohesion

    The gloves were an absolute mess of stitching. The Strengthen effect added just enough to keep the fabric from falling apart where Jeremiah had sewn in and picked out his stitches countless times.

    The gloves were now, for lack of a better term, sticky. ¡°Not exactly gloves that¡¯ll let you climb like a spider, but they¡¯re definitely gloves of climbing. And they make it harder to drop stuff!¡±

    Gus didn¡¯t offer any new ideas, just licked one of his eyeballs.

    Jeremiah smiled at the gloves,  ¡°I made a magic item,¡±  he thought,  ¡°a real magic item.¡±

    For the first time, he felt like an enchanter.

 Chapter 40. Trap

    Chapter 40. Trap

    One longsword, one longspear,  six  throwing swords, one battleaxe, two short spears, one dagger, one set of leather armor, Delilah''s new breastplate, and a smattering of magical doodads.

    He had a splitting headache and his hands would never be the same. But he never stopped working over the two days, kept focused by the knowledge that this equipment stood between his friends and death.

    Jeremiah inspected his final creation, a dagger especially for him. Well, he technically used a shortspear too, but that was Allison¡¯s. He just borrowed it. The dagger was his.

    He owned a magic weapon! The idea seemed ludicrous. Magic blades were wielded by the heroes of childhood story books, not Jeremiah. He added it to the bundle of equipment and tossed the bundle into the Giant''s Bag. It was time to share his work with his friends.

    He entered the living room with a fight already in progress.

    ¡°Absolutely not!¡± yelled Allison, ¡°you got the Giant¡¯s Bag, Bruno got his bow before that, it¡¯s my turn to get a magic item! So I go first!¡±

    ¡°The Giant¡¯s Bag is a team item!¡± retorted Delilah, ¡°we all use it, and I use it on your behalf! That¡¯s like, half a magic item at most.¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯re both wrong, I get the first item,¡± said Bruno, ¡°Jay and I have a bond. The sacred bond of the street. You don¡¯t even know. You don¡¯t even know!¡±

    ¡°There is no bond greater than teacher and student,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Hi guys,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°I could pay anyone to teach Jay how to jab with a spear. What I had to teach him you can¡¯t put a price on!¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Pay with what money?!¡± said Delilah, ¡°I¡¯ve juggled both of your finances for years, and his, from my house, that you all lived in, rent free.¡±

    Hi guys,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°You have nothing, you have no stake in this,¡± said Allison to Delilah, ¡°and you better not just bat your eyelashes at him and-¡±

    ¡°I would never! How dare you!¡±

    ¡°Oh, you would! You would,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°It¡¯s great to see you all too. I¡¯m fine, malnourished, splitting headache, hand cramps, the usual. Tea? No, I¡¯m good. Food? Well, I am starving, I suppose,¡± said Jeremiah. Nothing broke through. He sat at the table and pulled the Giant¡¯s Bag over to himself while his friends continued to argue.

    ¡°The bag should decide!¡± declared Allison.

    ¡°Elaborate immediately,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°The bag can read his thoughts, right? So when Jay gets here, we¡¯ll have him reach in and pull out the first thing that comes to mind. Whoever¡¯s object he thinks about first will appear in his hand.¡±

    ¡°When Jay gets here,¡± thought Jeremiah. He thought he should be offended, but his friends were just so excited he couldn¡¯t be bothered.

    ¡°Unworthy!¡± Jeremiah shouted.

    ¡°AAAAH!¡± his friends simultaneously screamed, startled by his presence.

    ¡°Each of you are unworthy of the gifts I¡¯ve come to bestow upon you.¡±

    ¡°How did he do that? Can Jay turn invisible?¡± Allison asked Delilah. Delilah shrugged and shook her head at the same time.

    ¡°He¡¯s learned so much¡­¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°But I suppose I am a generous mage. So I will bestow upon thee the gifts I have created.¡± He put his hand in the Giant¡¯s Bag and let his gaze travel between them.

    Bruno gave Jeremiah a stern and affirming nod. One that spoke of brotherhood and shared burdens.

    Allison¡¯s eyes were wide and pleading, her lip nearly quivering in eagerness. It was a look she had used before that stabbed right at his heartstrings.

    Delilah batted her eyelashes at him, just once, slowly. He had no chance.

    Up from the bag came a handheld metal sphere, roughly the size of a large orange. He sighed, and tossed it to Delilah who screeched in delight as she caught it.

    ¡°Betrayer!¡± Allison and Bruno yelled, or something to that effect, Jeremiah rapidly began tossing out everything he had made to distract them from their disappointment¡­and making a comment on why it had been Delilah that got one first.

    ¡°Bruno! Quick throw that chair at me!¡± shouted Allison. He threw it without hesitation and she cleaved it in half with her new sword, the wood parting like paper.

    What followed was the total destruction of every piece of furniture in the house, some used up metal plates, old pieces of armor Allison had, and some rocks they got from outside.

    ¡°This actually poses a bit of a problem,¡± said Delilah. She was trying to yank her spear back out of the wall. It punched through much easier, but didn¡¯t come out easier.

    ¡°Happy with that problem,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Jay! Stab me with your spear!¡± said Bruno, exposing his leather armored chest to Jeremiah.

    Jeremiah thrust the spear into Bruno¡¯s chest, again, and just like the last few times, it left only the tiniest mar in the material. Barely a scratch.

    ¡°It¡¯s about as strong as non-magic plate,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°Delilah your breastplate is as strong as Allison¡¯s armor, but obviously you¡¯ve got a lot less armor overall, so don¡¯t get careless. A reminder; I am not as good an enchanter as Thurok. So if your stuff gets too damaged, it might not work anymore.¡± No one was listening.

    ¡°Tell me what this does!¡± Delilah yelled at the ball she had received first. It was a palm sized metal sphere, covered in lines like a globe meant for navigation, and fit comfortably in the hand.

    He was both proud of and somewhat embarrassed by this one. ¡°I¡¯ll show you. Touch the contact point, just like this, to start the enchantment. The metal will get harder and more brittle, until¡­¡±

    Jeremiah heaved the sphere against the wall. Upon impact, the sphere shattered, sending razor sharp metal fragments everywhere.

    ¡°They¡¯re hollow too, with a little fill valve,¡± Jeremiah continued. ¡°You can put whatever you want inside. They¡¯re pretty easy to make, so there¡¯s a bunch in there. I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s useful or good or¡­¡± he was suddenly feeling anxious again. Giving Delilah things was hard.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure I can think of something,¡± said Delilah. She picked up some of the metal fragments from the shattered ball and began to inspect it closely.

    ¡°Me! Me, me, me! What did you make for me?¡± Bruno raised his hand and jumped up and down.

    ¡°Besides your new armor and your  six  throwing swords, I made you these,¡± Jeremiah held up the gloves.

    Bruno snatched them before Jeremiah could blink. ¡°What are they? Can I shoot lightning?¡±

    ¡°No, and I wouldn¡¯t give you gloves that shoot lightning even if I could,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°They''re gloves of climbing. Sort of.¡±

    Bruno pressed a gloved hand against the wall and tried to slide it. ¡°Oh, like grip gloves. Yeah, I¡¯ve got a few pairs of these.¡±

    ¡°Which is why I ended up going back to an earlier design that helped me out of a jam once. Not as subtle, but¡­¡±

    Jeremiah produced a refined version of the bricks he had used to scale Madam Furchot¡¯s tower. They were a pair of a thin wooden squares with a curved handle protruding from the back.

    ¡°These might do the trick. If you touch here, it¡¯ll stick to just about any surface. Stop touching, and it will release. Let me show you.¡±

    He had been looking forward to this part. Jeremiah took the handles and faced his old arch-nemesis¡ªthe living room wall. He pressed the squares against it, touched the Contact points, and pulled himself upward. Then he released the contact point, moved his hand, and retouched the contact.

    Slowly, but surely, Jeremiah began to circumnavigate the room. He reached the doorway to Allison and Delilah¡¯s room.

    ¡°Everybody watching?¡± he said. It was so unfair he couldn¡¯t see their faces right now. He stuck the handle to the lintel of the door frame, and hung from one hand, suspended on a handle attached to nothing. ¡°Tadaaa!¡±

    ¡°Jeremiah Thorn,¡± said Bruno gravely, ¡°if you do not give me those this very moment, I will kill you and steal them.¡±

    ¡°All yours,¡± said Jeremiah, dropping down.

    Bruno grabbed the handles and launched himself at a wall. Bruno mastered the item in mere moments, and began to properly scamper around the room. Hand over hand, faster and faster, incorporating longer and longer jumps and last minute attachments to walls, Bruno swung like a monkey and stuck like a bug.

    ¡°The game has changed!¡± declared Bruno, before scrambling up to the ceiling. The ceiling however was not as convinced, and a segment of plaster detached as Bruno swung, producing a rain of particles and sending Bruno into a rolling recovery. Bruno lay there hugging the handles to his chest and rocking back and forth, ¡°Jay! Jay this is so unfair! You have no idea how unfair this is!¡± Bruno laughed.

    ¡°I wanna turn!¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Yeah I want to try!¡± said Delilah.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°No! Mine!¡± Bruno shouted.

    Jeremiah looked to Allison and found her staring expectantly at him, clutching all of her weapons to her chest at once.

    ¡°Allison, I¡¯m sorry to say I couldn¡¯t really think of anything novel or interesting to make for you. Just the enchanted axe, spear, sword, and dagger.¡± said Jeremiah. Allison nodded, her soldier¡¯s stoicism swiftly concealing any disappointment. ¡°Which is why I made you something a little boring.¡±

    He handed her a sharpening stone, its underside inscribed with a Strengthen enchantment. ¡°Magic weapons are very difficult to sharpen, but this should do the trick. It¡¯s not much, but I hope you like it.¡±

    Allison took the stone and dropped to the ground instantly, beginning to silently sharpen her new magic sword in a rhythmic, almost ritualistic fashion. Her eyes were half lidded and she seemed to be somewhere else completely.

    Jereiah took a moment to watch his friends play with their new toys and destroy the apartment. What was it he had been missing? What was here that wasn¡¯t at Cell Four¡¯s apartment? It was warmth, Jeremiah realized. He had a bond with Cell Four, he really did, but it was different. It was transactional, there was an expectation. His friends here; Bruno, Allison, and Delilah, they cared about him as a person, regardless of what he could provide them. He loved them for that. He knew they loved him too.

    But they still had a job to do. ¡°Alright, everyone,¡± he said. ¡°gather what you need. It¡¯s time to go.¡±

    Delilah, Allison, and Bruno stopped in their tracks. ¡°Where¡¯d  that  voice come from?¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°You hear that? Jay¡¯s crackin¡¯ the whip,¡± laughed Bruno.

    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± said Allison. ¡°Let¡¯s get our heads straight, We¡¯re bringing the Giant¡¯s Bag, but keep anything critical on your person¡ªif the bag gets destroyed, we still need to be effective.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t even speak such things,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Let¡¯s wreck a dungeon,¡± said Allison.

    <hr>

    ?

    ¡°This is stupid,¡± said Dronkal.

    ¡°Very,¡± said Shugga, ¡°you just joined, why kill yourself now?¡±

    ¡°I gotta do it,¡± said Jeremiah. He had stopped home to let his cell mates know that he was taking on the Gilded Vault. Friends or not, they had been the first source of real comfort he¡¯d known since living on the streets. They cared about him, in their way. It seemed only fair.

    Sweet Melissa pouted. ¡°I¡¯ll miss you. We could have had a lot of fun together, you know.¡±

    Jeremiah bent to pet Miggy and she wound around his legs. ¡°I¡¯m¡­sure we could have. I might not die, you know.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s still time for you to come to your senses,¡± said Shugga.

    ¡°You said you have to. Why? What¡¯s making you do this?¡± asked Dronkal. He began pacing back and forth in the apartment.

    ¡°Just something from Monty,¡± said Jeremiah. Miggy bit him.

    ¡°Jay, let me talk to Monty for you,¡± said Dronkal, moving to stand between Jeremiah and the door, ¡°I¡¯m sure this is just some kind of misunderstanding. He¡¯s got no reason to send you in there.¡±

    ¡°He was clear,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°This has got to get done. And if I don¡¯t happen to see you again, thanks. For taking care of me.¡± Jeremiah went to leave, but Dronkal didn¡¯t move.

    ¡°You¡¯re family. You know that right?¡± said Dronkal.

    ¡°I know Dronk, I know,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Try to come back.¡± Dronkal stepped aside and let Jeremiah pass.

    And then he was gone, letting the slope of the Pit carry him towards the gleaming jewel at its center. The weight of the armored shirt Thurok had made was comforting. He carried the Giant¡¯s Bag over his shoulder. He and his friends were equipped. They were experienced. They were ready.

    Up close, the Gilded Vault was immense. The lustrous gold facade glared down at him, nearly blinding in the sunlight. Guards patrolling grounds and rooftop took notice of Jeremiah, but remained at their posts. The nearest gave him a friendly nod.

    Jeremiah had already decided that any dungeon meant to be a test of a thief¡¯s skill would punish entering through the front door. Why else would Cassidy have placed all those windows? He carefully set up his ladder to access a second story window, careful not to bump the glass, lest the aloof guards turn hostile.

    ¡°Want me to hold that?¡± A smiling guard had approached.

    ¡°Uhh, sure! Are you allowed to do that?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°As long as you don¡¯t damage the house,¡± said the guard. He took a firm grip on the ladder, holding it steady. Jeremiah climbed up to the window. This seemed too easy.

    ¡°It¡¯s unlocked,¡± called the guard. ¡°You can just go right in.¡±

    The window¡¯s frosted glass offered no insights into what lay beyond. ¡°Thanks¡­uhh¡­any idea what¡¯s in there?¡± asked Jeremiah. Might as well check how far this generosity went.

    ¡°No idea. But I always hear screams when people enter through the front door, so this is as good an idea as it gets.¡±

    Jeremiah took some comfort in that and examined the window, trying to look as closely for traps or alarms as Bruno would. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

    The window slid open with silky smoothness, revealing an elegant smoking room within. There were upholstered sofas, cabinetry, plush chairs and small tables. It appeared ready to receive guests at any moment.

    ¡° Where¡¯s the spinning blades ?¡± wondered Jeremiah. ¡° Where¡¯s the pit of spikes? ¡± He had assumed there would be countless spikes.

    The floor below the window was unremarkable, just a typical hardwood floor. Jeremiah tossed the Giant¡¯s Bag through first, then leaned through the window, scanning side to side for imminent threats.

    The window sill shifted, there was a click, and the window slammed shut on Jeremiah¡¯s back, forcing the air from his lungs. His back and ribs screamed in pain as he tried to reach back to pull the window open again, but pulled his hand back wet with blood. Glancing back, he saw a wide, blade protruding along the bottom of the window sash like a guillotine. It was so sharp Jeremiah didn¡¯t even feel it cut him.

    He stretched his hand to where the Giant¡¯s Bag sat on the floor, barely reaching his fingertips inside to retrieve his enchanted dagger. Wedging it beneath the window¡¯s blade, he was able to wriggle through without any further damage to his body.

    Jeremiah landed on the floor in a ball, waiting for another trap to spring. Nothing happened. He inspected his wounds. His palm had sustained a shallow cut and shirt was torn, the flexible armor was the only thing that saved him from being disemboweled.

    He opened the Giant¡¯s Bag. ¡°Everyone out!¡±

    Bruno came out first, instantly dropping to the ground and scanning the room. Delilah and Allison climbed through next.

    ¡°What the hell, Jay? We just got here,¡± said Delilah. She retrieved a roll of bandages from the Giant¡¯s Bag and quickly wrapped Jeremiah¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Window trap,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Bruno sprang to the window. ¡°Where¡¯s the trigger?¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s in the sill,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Bruno inspected the sill, the sash, and the blade itself. ¡°Not poisoned, that¡¯s a relief.¡±

    Allison braced the window open just long enough for Jeremiah to retrieve his dagger before it slammed shut again.

    ¡°That¡¯s meant to remove fingers,¡± said Bruno, ¡°you¡¯re lucky you, apparently, just flopped through.¡±

    ¡°Hush, we¡¯re on mission,¡± said Allison. ¡°Bruno, you¡¯re our guide through this nonsense.¡±

    ¡°This is a deathtrap dungeon,¡± said Bruno. ¡°It exists for the sole purpose of attracting adventurers such as ourselves. They are very rare, for good reason, and tend to have fewer defenders and more traps. Many more.¡± Bruno glanced around the room. ¡°Granted, most deathtraps don¡¯t look like this.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, this is rather lovely,¡± said Delilah. A tall display case caught her eye. It contained a small library of only the thickest, most gilded volumes. Delilah stepped closer to take a better look.

    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Bruno shouted. He yanked her back just as the glass on the display case exploded. The books, which were actually expertly painted metal blocks, flew from the display case at crushing speeds. Thanks to Bruno, Delilah caught one in the upper arm instead of the face. She spun from the hit, crying out as she dropped to the floor.

    Allison hauled Delilah back to the window, interposing her shield between Delilah and everything. ¡°You okay?¡±

    ¡°It was just a glance,¡± said Delilah. She flexed her arm, where an angry bruise was already forming. ¡°Not broken. Thanks, Bruno.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t. Touch. Anything,¡± said Bruno, pointing at them each in turn.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t!¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°The trigger was under the rug, wasn¡¯t it?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Yes! Go on,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Go on about what?¡± Jeremiah frowned. What else was there to say?

    ¡°How does that fit in with what we know?¡± asked Bruno ¡°How does it serve the dungeon¡¯s purpose? What does it tell us about the creator? We need to understand how this place works if we want to survive.¡±

    ¡°The purpose of a dungeon is to keep people out, isn¡¯t it?¡± asked Allison. She kept pointing her shield at different things in the smoking room, trying to anticipate the next threat.

    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± said Delilah. ¡°Cassidy invited people here, it¡¯s a trap to kill people.¡±

    ¡°No, he wanted to test them,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°Failing the test means you die, but his goal wasn¡¯t just to kill people.¡±

    ¡°Correct!¡± said Bruno. He picked up one of the metal blocks with a grunt, and heaved it onto a plush armchair. They stared as the chair snapped shut like a giant mouth, complete with serrated teeth bursting from the cushions.

    ¡°Alright, Bruno, lead the way,¡± said Allison. ¡°I don¡¯t even want to move.¡±

    Bruno flopped onto the ground and began inspecting every fiber of the carpet. ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡±

 Chapter 41. Theft

    Chapter 41. Theft

    ¡°Clear,¡± Bruno announced. He stepped onto the corner of the rug he had just been starting at, and crouched to inspect the next spot.

    ¡°Bruno, that took, like, fifteen minutes,¡± said Delilah. ¡°Is every step going to take that long?¡±

    ¡°Only if you¡¯re interested in survival,¡± said Bruno.

    An hour passed before Bruno was halfway across the smoking room. With each step, he studied not only where he would place his feet, but also the room as a whole.

    ¡°He¡¯s checking to see if anything is pointed at the spot, like that bookshelf,¡± said Jeremiah at Allison¡¯s impatient sigh.

    ¡°You guys want to see something interesting?¡± Bruno produced a tiny bag and tossed a pinch of bright red powder into the air. The cloud of powder coalesced in midair, taking the shape of a long, straight strand.

    ¡°Whisperwire,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Thinner than human hair. Love the magnetic powder, Delilah, thank you.¡±

    ¡°Can you disarm it?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°Best not to. The less you interact with a trap the better, especially in here. Alright everyone, move up. Step only where I stepped.

    They started to advance; Allison, Jeremiah, then Delilah, each stepping only where the last person stepped.

    ¡°Get down!¡± Allison shouted.

    A volley darts erupted from walls, the ceiling, and up from beneath the carpet all at once like a swarm of wasps. Jeremiah felt something bite into the back of his ankle as he dropped.

    ¡°Who¡¯s hit?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°Good!¡± said Allison and Bruno together.

    ¡°Hit!¡± said Jeremiah. He pulled the dart from his ankle, and could see the small glass reservoir behind the needle, now empty.

    Delilah sniffed the tip of the dart. ¡°Gorgon toxin. Hold still.¡± In a smooth motion, she plunged a hefty syringe into Jeremiah¡¯s thigh. He gritted his teeth as the thick needle bit deep, injecting a payload that burned in his muscle. She then injected herself just above the collarbone.

    ¡°We should be good, just a little numb around the injury spot. Let me know if you start to feel stiffness in your upper leg, I don¡¯t have the kit to de-petrify you.¡±

    ¡°What the hell happened?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°I felt my helmet catch on something,¡± said Allison. Bruno examined her helmet and pulled a now slack piece of whisperwire off the top.

    ¡°Forgot you¡¯re taller than me, especially in the armor.¡± Bruno scowled at the wire. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Can we just wait in the bag?¡± asked Allison. ¡°Seems safer.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°If a trap so much as nicks the bag, we''re dead.¡±

    ¡°Plus, I can''t monitor Bruno,¡± said Delilah. ¡°If he gets hurt I need to treat him quickly.¡±

    It was another hour before they finally made it to the door of the smoking room. Bruno''s inspections had become even more thorough after the dart trap. Jeremiah noted that he was starting to rub his eyes from exhaustion. Whatever rogues had instead of magical focus, this dungeon was already taxing Bruno¡¯s.

    Bruno pulled some of his tools and started working the doorknob, slipping paper thin shims of metal behind the plating. With a twist and a click the knob turned, there was an angry hiss, but nothing happened.

    ¡°Got it,¡± he said. The door opened and they finally left the smoking room.

    The hallway they entered was mercifully free of carpet, but otherwise its splendor was undiminished. Candelabras dotted the walls at regular intervals, their candles lit and giving off a pleasant light. A dark walnut wooden floor was expertly carved with geometric patterns, and an even darker wainscotting bisected the hallway into a darker wooden lower half and a royal purple upper half.

    Delilah whistled. ¡°This place looks expensive.¡±

    ¡°Bruno, where are we going?¡± asked Jeremiah. ¡°Somewhere there ought to be safe with the treasure I need for Monty. We shouldn¡¯t explore any more than we have to.¡±

    ¡°If I had to guess,¡± said Bruno, ¡°I¡¯d say the basement, or the attic, or the very center of the mansion.¡±

    ¡°Bruno, that''s a terrible guess,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Thoughts?¡± Bruno asked Jeremiah.

    Jeremiah was flattered he was being consulted. ¡°I¡¯d say basement. You already went to the bottom of The Pit to get here, he¡¯d want you to go down even farther.¡±

    ¡°Ooh he¡¯s got a thing for symbolism, I like that,¡± said Delilah, ¡°I feel like that tells us something about him.¡±

    ¡°I feel bad I took us to the second floor then,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°No, the second floor was a good choice. I can guarantee the easier the entry, the worse the traps.¡±

    Allison waved her hand over a candelabra¡¯s flame. ¡°Bruno, how are¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Bruno shouted. Everyone tensed, ready to jump, duck, or fight. Nothing happened. ¡°I said not to touch anything!¡±

    ¡°But why are these candles here? And lit?¡± asked Allison, ignoring Bruno¡¯s admonishment.

    ¡°Illusion?¡± Bruno suggested.

    Jeremiah shook his head. ¡°Too broad an effect, and we¡¯ve been interacting with it for too long. We would have noticed something off by now.¡±

    ¡°Likely a dungeon core, then,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°It¡¯s a magic caretaker for the dungeon,¡± said Bruno. ¡°They reset traps, perform basic maintenance, stuff like that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s like a golem,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°but attached to a location instead of a creature. There¡¯s probably some big crystal somewhere that it¡¯s anchored to. Stronger ones can even do things like summon monsters.¡±

    ¡°Anything we can do about it?¡± asked Allison.

    ¡°We can break the crystal,¡± said Jeremiah. But it won¡¯t just be lying around for us to find.¡±

    ¡°Alright, so we¡¯re targeting the basement,¡± said Allison. ¡°Let''s find some stairs.¡±

    ¡°This place seems typical of Elminian architecture, so the primary staircase will be at the center,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°This way then,¡± said Bruno, ¡°and we''ll make our way inward.¡±

    They inched down the hallway, Bruno checking everything for signs of traps. His attentions revealed a pressure plate, more whisperwire, and a suspicious candle.

    ¡°Stop,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Something just happened.¡±

    ¡°Heard or seen?¡± asked Allison, raising her shield.

    ¡°Seen. The wood grain moved.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± asked Jeremiah.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°Magic trap,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Be ready.¡±

    ¡°What was the trigger?¡± asked Jeremiah. He''d never seen a magic trap before. It had to be some form of enchanting.

    ¡°Contact!¡± Delilah said. Jeremiah squeezed aside as Allison ran past to form the front line.

    From back the way they¡¯d come, a strange, blurry form approached. It looked like a square of bluish translucent mist that stretched nearly to the limits of the hallway. Jeremiah would have missed it if it had not been pointed out.

    ¡°Tunnel ooze,¡± said Allison. ¡°They''re acidic and will try to suck you into their body to digest you.¡±

    ¡°How dangerous?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°Not especially,¡± said Allison. ¡°They take a while to kill, since they have no vital organs, but they''re slow as molasses. You just keep backing up until¡­oh.¡±

    ¡°Oh? What oh?¡± asked Jeremiah. The tunnel ooze crawled towards them, gliding across the floor with tiny undulating pseudopods.

    ¡°Al, I can''t check our way that fast!¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Oh,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°We have to take it down, quickly!¡± said Allison. She rushed towards the slime, Delilah followed right behind her, longspear poised over Allison''s shoulder.

    ¡°Al, stop!¡± cried Jeremiah.

    Allison heeded his warning and skidded to a stop just as she passed the door they¡¯d come in from, the edge of known territory. She eyed the invisible boundary, and drew her axe as the ooze came within range.

    Just as Allison was rearing back to strike, they heard a click from the slime¡¯s part of the hall. A line of thick metal pistons punched out from the wall. Most of the pistons thrust into the side of the slime, barely slowing its progress. One piston caught Allison in the leg.

    Allision grunted. Her armor cushioned the blow but not the torque on her knee, and she fell, twisting, just as the slime reached her. It briefly engulfed her foot, then Delilah hauled her backwards, out of its reach.

    Allison and Delilah retreated back to where Jeremiah waited with Bruno, still frantically scanning.

    Allison clawed at her armored boot, her cries of pain escalating. ¡°Gods, it hurts!¡± Jeremiah knelt down to help, his fingertips blistering the moment he touched the ooze-covered armor.

    Delilah dumped a bundle of powder on Allison''s boot. Jeremiah hurried to undo the buckles.

    ¡°It''s inside the armor, godsdammit!¡± Allison started to scream. ¡°Do something, come on!¡± She shoved Jeremiah aside to reach the buckles herself.

    ¡°It''s okay,¡± said Delilah calmly. ¡°I got you, hang on.¡± Another pack of powder, this one poured in the top of the boot. Allison hissed again, but her franticness lessened.

    ¡°Shit, move!¡± called Jeremiah. The ooze was only a few feet away.

    They leapt away, Jeremiah and Delilah stabbing into the ooze with their spears while Allison struggled to her feet. The ooze¡¯s body was surprisingly firm, it felt like stabbing a bale of hay. Their thrusts left narrow hollow indentations in the ooze that dribbled what Jeremiah assumed was blood.

    Allison finally stepped between them, swinging her axe and taking great gashes out of the ooze. It did not seem to mind. Jeremiah and Delilah backed up to give her room, and bumped into Bruno.

    ¡°Not ready!¡± he shouted. He wasn¡¯t even two paces from where they left him.

    ¡°We need to move!¡± Delilah yelled. She threw a packet of the anti acid powder at the ooze, and part of it bubbled and poured away.

    ¡°Not yet!¡± Bruno said again.

    Allison bumped into Jeremiah. ¡°Move!¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Bruno yelled. He took a step forward, just one step, and started checking again, his eyes darting wildly.

    It was only moments before they were compressed together, trapped between a flesh eating monster and the unknown horrors ahead.

    ¡°Bruno!¡± yelled Allison. She had to choke up on the axe to have room to swing.

    ¡°M-move!¡± Bruno said. They collectively jumped forward. ¡°Drop!¡±

    Jeremiah saw a tiny opening appear at the end of the hall, and a long iron spike fired out of it like a gigantic crossbow bolt. He dropped, Bruno dodged, the bolt missed Delilah, and struck Allison in the middle of her back.

    The enchanted armor saved her from being impaled, but the bolt carried enough force to send her stumbling forward, headfirst, into the ooze.

    Jeremiah and Delilah both caught one of Allison¡¯s arms and yanked her free. Allison ripped her helmet off, and Delilah hit her in the with another satchel of powder. Allison¡¯s skin was already an angry red.

    ¡°Move!¡± Bruno said again. They gained space, but not much.

    ¡°I''ve got an out, but I need to cavitate it,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°It''s going to explode.¡± Delilah held one of the metallic spheres Jeremiah had made and emptied a satchel inside.

    ¡°Cover!¡± cried Allison.

    Delilah threw the metal orb into the ooze. It was sucked in, but did not explode.

    ¡°On it.¡± Jeremiah leapt forward and thrust his spear into the ooze to strike the sphere. He saw a tiny flash of light before he was yanked to the ground. Allison threw herself on top of Jeremiah and Delilah, interposing her shield between them and the blast of burning acid that sprayed down the hallway.

    The hallway was clear, the strange misty curtain transformed into a goop that now coated all surfaces. Jeremiah''s ankles tingled, then stung, then burned, then felt like they were being sliced open. Some of the ooze has splashed up under the cuffs of his pants.

    He drew in a breath to scream when he was engulfed in a blizzard of powder, soothing the burn back to merely painful.

    They were all covered in white powder, and Delilah began another round, applying concentrated doses to specific areas.

    ¡°How much of this stuff do you have?¡± asked Bruno, exposing his forearms to Delilah.

    ¡°Tons. It''s a standard lab safety item,¡± said Delilah. ¡°I don''t usually carry this much, but this bag is the best thing that¡¯s ever happened to me.¡±

    ¡°It''s appreciated,¡± Allison grimaced, as she finally removed her boot.

    ¡°Oh, sweet lord,¡± said Bruno, gagging.

    ¡°Yep, that''s a bad one,¡± said Allison. The boot had taken some skin with it, weeping blood around angry red blisters.

    ¡°I can wrap and numb it,¡± said Delilah. ¡°More powder and anesthetic bandages all around.¡±

    She paused as she inspected Allison¡¯s face. ¡°Can¡¯t fix this though.¡± With a finger, she reached up and wiped away one of Allison''s eyebrows.

    ¡°Ow. Kinda feels like we¡¯re getting our asses kicked,¡± said Allison, ¡°and we¡¯ve cleared one room and half a hallway.¡±

    ¡°Do we have any potions?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°One,¡± said Delilah. ¡°Spent the last of Empress Aubrianna¡¯s gold on it, so please refrain from severe injuries.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m trying to do, if you guys would stop rushing me,¡± said Bruno. He took a moment to rub his eyes.

    ¡°You okay, Bruno?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Got some acid damage, but I¡¯m alright. Why?¡± Bruno kept inspecting.

    ¡°You keep rubbing your eyes and squinting,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°I swear to god,¡± Allison said. She reached into Delilah¡¯s bag and withdrew a book. ¡°Come here.¡±

    ¡°Busy,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Bruno. Come here,¡± said Allison in her commander voice.

    Bruno turned to face her, annoyance clear on his face.

    ¡°Read this page,¡± said Allison. She held the book up close to his face, just past his nose.

    Bruno sighed. He squinted at the page, tilting his head away. ¡°Nor will I¡­argue it, or pray for anything but¡­modesty¡­and not to be angry.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t lean,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Can you not?¡± Bruno stepped back away from the book.

    ¡°Oh, Bruno¡­you need glasses,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°I do  not  need glasses! You get glasses when you¡¯re a kid.¡±

    ¡°Humans sometimes need glasses as they get older, it¡¯s perfectly normal,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°I¡¯m not getting older, I¡¯m fine.¡± Bruno returned to the comfort of trap searching.

    ¡°I¡¯m not fine,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°The guy checking for traps can¡¯t see.¡±

    Jeremiah could suddenly see it, the little signs of age on Bruno he had never noticed. His hair was just starting to grey at the front, and there were the tiniest lines around his eyes. Bruno didn''t know how old he was exactly, which wasn¡¯t uncommon, but Jeremiah had always assumed he was younger than he looked.

    ¡°If any of you want to look for traps instead, be my guest.¡± Bruno kept searching and moving them forward, occasionally disarming a hidden switch. He still squinted, but refrained from rubbing his eyes again.

    The others exchanged a look. All they could do was follow.

 Chapter 42. Lessons in Dungeoneering

    Chapter 42. Lessons in Dungeoneering

    ¡°For such a big mansion, there aren¡¯t a lot of rooms,¡± said Delilah. Since the smoking room, they saw no doors in the hallway besides the one they were making their way towards at the end.

    ¡°Likely a lot of the space is taken up by trap mechanisms and components,¡± said Bruno. ¡°They can be very space intensive.¡±

    ¡°Do magic traps need space too?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Not as much,¡± said Bruno. ¡°It¡¯s just a form of enchanting, like you do. Hell, you could probably make magic traps.¡±

    That sentence sent Jereiah¡¯s mind reeling. A trapmaker? A  magic  trapmaker? That sounded so cool, but how would he even¡­¡° Oh! I could do a contact triggered Adhesion rune to stick your foot to the floor .  And then I could also super heat it! Oh! And then I could ¡ª¡±

    Allison snapped her fingers in front of his face, ¡°Jay, come back to us. You can fantasize later.¡±

    ¡°Making traps aren¡¯t very useful for adventurers anyways,¡± said Bruno, ¡°they¡¯re meant to protect against us.¡±

    ¡°Not like magic items,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Yeah, more of those,¡± said Allison, ¡°focus on more of those.¡±

    They reached the end of the hallway at last. The door was made of strong wood reinforced with metal rivets. Etched into its surface were words in a language Jeremiah couldn''t read.

    ¡°It says ''please knock¡¯ in halfling,¡± said Bruno. ¡°No obvious traps or mechanisms¡­This is one of those moments where knowing the man who designed the trap helps us. Is knocking an idiot test that will set off the trap? Or is it some sort of, I don''t know, politeness check?¡±

    ¡°I feel like we already failed the idiot test just be being dumb enough to come in here,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°As for a politeness check? Hmm, I can see Monty doing something like that. I say knock.¡±

    ¡°Agreed, knock,¡± said Delilah. ¡°I think decorum means something to this Cassidy guy.¡±

    ¡°Alright, but back up just in case,¡± said Bruno. Jeremiah and Delilah retreated a fair distance, but Allison stayed, shield raised.

    Bruno straightened up, fixed his armor, and raised his hand to knock.

    ¡°Wait,¡± said Allison.

    Bruno went rigid, fist still poised.

    ¡°Why is it written in halfling?¡± asked Allison.

    ¡°Because Cassidy was a halfling, I assume,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Get low and knock,¡± said Allison. She and Bruno knelt, trying to mimic a halfling''s diminutive size.

    From his new vantage point, Bruno gave the door three quick raps. They heard a click, and the lower half of the door opened. The upper half remained stationary.

    ¡°Ooooh, that was a good one,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Damn clever, Al,¡± said Delilah.

    They crawled through the miniature door. As he passed underneath, Jeremiah saw the upper half of the door was actually a thick wooden block, presumably containing trap mechanisms. He avoided touching it.

    They found themselves in a large circular room with an abnormally high ceiling. The walls were adorned with ribbons, streamers, and dozens of mirrors of all sizes, as though prepared for a wealthy child''s birthday party. There was no furniture, not even carpet. Or, Jeremiah noticed, an exit.

    ¡°We should be near the center of the structure,¡± said Delilah, ¡°there  should  be stairs here. Or near here or-¡±

    On cue, the door slammed shut behind them.

    ¡°Oh, that''s what that was,¡± said Bruno.

    Jeremiah stumbled as the floor beneath his feet shifted and began to rotate.

    ¡°Screw floor,¡± said Delilah, ¡°King Growler had one in his command chambers. Careful, it¡¯s speeding up.¡±

    Sure enough, the speed of rotation began to increase, and Jeremiah felt himself being pulled outwards, towards the outer wall. At the same time, he realized they were moving downward, the celebratory decor receding overhead.

    As the floor lowered, needle sharp spikes sprung up out of the walls, Jeremiah was suddenly aware of the deadly nature of the pull. They were needle-sharp and started small, but quickly grew larger and more numerous.

    The floor spun faster. Jeremiah struggled to keep his footing and avoid being thrown into the spiked wall.

    ¡°Move to the center!¡± said Allison. She caught his arm and helped haul him to the middle of the room.

    They huddled at the center of the spinning floor, where the feeling of force diminished. The floor continued to accelerate, however, and as they descended the spikes grew even deadlier, now sporting barbed tips and cutting edges.

    ¡°Hang on!¡± said Allison. ¡°We''ll be at the bottom soon.¡± They gripped each other for stability, Jeremiah straining to hold onto Allison and Bruno.

    ¡°What does the trapmaker want?¡±  came Bruno¡¯s voice in Jeremiah¡¯s ear, although the real Bruno was busy bracing his feet and clinging to his friends.

    ¡°A physics test? ¡± Jeremiah wondered. ¡° No, any child knows you can''t hang on forever.¡±  Indeed, even at the center of the room, they were being subjected to dizzying speeds.

    What does he want?¡±

    It dawned on him as his feet slipped the slightest inch.

    ¡°Let go!¡± he yelled.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°What? No, just hang on!¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°It''s what Cassidy wants, we need to let go!¡± Jeremiah resigned himself to the pain, and released his hold on his friends.

    He was immediately pulled off balance. The difference in speed even a few feet from the center caused him to stumble. Vertigo overwhelmed his senses and he fell, sliding along the ground, and prayed to collide with a less pointy section of wall.

    Jeremiah¡¯s head slammed against brick as he hit the wall at speed. His world continued to spin even as he became aware of pain in his leg where a spike impaled him. He braced his foot against another to take his weight as he tried not to be sick. Below, the floor continued to drop away, carrying his friends and spinning ever faster.

    The floor spun faster and faster. Jeremiah¡¯s friends huddled together, arms linked, resisting the force.

    ¡°Let go!¡± Jeremiah screamed. The weapons further down the wall took an increasingly crueler shape. Spikes became forks and axe heads. From his vantage point, he realized the room was a gaping maw, its teeth waiting to shred its prey.

    Delilah''s feel slipped out from under her, she shrieked as her grip on Allison and Bruno failed. Jeremiah watched helplessly as she was she thrown onto a barbed spike. Delilah screamed as the spike punctured her reinforced breastplate, punching into her abdomen. She gripped at the barbed spine that had shot into her stomach, and screamed as the floor fell away beneath her, and she rotated on the spike, hanging head down.

    Jeremiah wrenched his leg off of the spike gouging his thigh, and started towards Delilah. Below, Bruno and Allison clutched each other, delaying the inevitable.

    Bruno released one hand from Allison¡¯s armor, reaching for the magic climbing handles at his belt. Allison gripped him all the tighter and yelled something unintelligable. Bruno grabbed a handle, and swung down to attach it to the whirling floor. He missed. Disoriented and dizzy beyond comprehension, his grip slipped and he was pulled away from Allison and launched toward the wall. Jeremiah watched with astonishment as he twisted in midair and avoided the blades and plant on his feet. He slammed his magic climbing handles against the wall, arresting his fall.

    Allison, alone in the center of the room, gripped the floor with the claws on her gauntleted fingers. The weapons lining the room changed again. No longer fearsome prongs and blades, they became needle sharp cones with wide flaring bases. They stood out from the wall as dense and unavoidable as a hedgehog¡¯s spines, projecting a grim, efficient lethality.

    The trap functioned as designed. Allison¡¯s grip failed just as the spinning floor reached its maximum velocity. She struck the spikes with a quick crunch of surrendering metal and was still.

    The floor finally slotted into place with a resounding  boom, revealing a new pair of doors set into the wall.

    Jeremiah reached Delilah first. She still hung upside down. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯re going to get you down from here.¡±

    ¡°Is the bag okay?¡± she whispered. Blood was leaking from under her armor and running down her neck. The blade had punched into her lower stomach, sneaking under the magic breastplate.

    ¡°Bag is fine,¡± Jeremiah reassured her without checking.

    Bruno arrived, the handles making the walls easy to scale. ¡°How do we do this?¡±

    ¡°Tie a rope harness. We¡¯ll push her off the spike and lower her all the way to the floor,¡± said Jeremiah. Then to Delilah, ¡°We¡¯re going to get you down now, okay?¡±

    They tied the harness and started to push. Delilah screamed. ¡°Wait! Wait wait, something¡¯s stuck! Something inside me¡¯s stuck!¡±

    Jeremiah inspected the puncture. At once, the anatomy knowledge sprang to his mind to make sense of the mess of the torn flesh and blood. ¡°Delilah, I think there¡¯s a barb caught on your hip bones, right on the crest. I¡¯m going to need to lift you up a little to unhook it.¡±

    ¡°No, no, no, please don¡¯t!¡± Delilah curled up to paw at the spike in her guts before falling limp again with exhaustion.

    Bruno had gone a sickly green. Jeremiah barked at him, ¡°Hey! Look at me! I need you with me right now, got it?¡±

    Bruno met his eyes, swallowed, and nodded.

    ¡°Alright, Delilah, here we go,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°No, no, please wait. I¡¯m not ready,¡± Delilah sobbed.

    ¡°One, two, deep breath, three!¡± Jeremiah shoved, ignoring Delilah¡¯s ear piercing scream as she slid off the spike. Whatever was caught inside her slipped free with a scraping sensation, and Bruno grunted in effort as he caught her weight, then he and Jeremiah belayed her to the floor below.

    They down scrambled after her once she landed. She was already reaching for the Giant¡¯s Bag when her eyes fell on Allison, impaled on the spikes, still and silent.

    Delilah pressed a small parcel of paper to her own nostrils and inhaled hard. ¡°Gah!¡± She looked around with renewed vigor. ¡°Bruno, go take a look at Allison. Jay, come here and tell me if you smell almonds.¡± She injected herself in the neck with something.

    ¡°If I smell¡­almonds?¡± said Jeremiah. He leaned over the wound and sniffed, but smelled only blood.

    ¡°Little miracles. Okay, welcome to your first day of medical school. We¡¯re going to stitch a complex abdominal tear. I need you to inject this into my spine, between the vertebrae.

    ¡°You need the potion, Ive never stitched anyone back together,¡± said Jeremiah. He unstrapped Delilah¡¯s armor and slid the needle into her back, that part was at least easy. Delilah didn''t flinch.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± said Delilah, still looking at Allison. ¡°How is she?¡± she called.

    ¡°The spikes only barely punched through the armor, but she¡¯s not moving.¡± said Bruno. ¡°Her head¡¯s all kinked.¡±

    ¡°Get her down, careful as you can,¡± said Delilah. She handed Jeremiah a strange ¡®J¡¯ shaped needle and thick thread. ¡°You are going to sew where I tell you. I¡¯m not going to feel it, but I can¡¯t help you either.¡±

    ¡°Sewing. Okay, I can do that,¡± said Jeremiah. Following Delilah¡¯s instructions was somehow calming. A tiny task, one he was familiar with. The idea that he was punching a needle in and out of his friend¡¯s body sat on the sidelines, patiently waiting its turn.

    Bruno finally hoisted Allison off the wall. Her armor clattered as he set her on the floor. ¡°Rise and shine, Al, you got knocked out.¡±

    She didn¡¯t move.

    ¡°Allison?¡± said Bruno. He lifted her visor. ¡°Hey, good to see you¡¯re awake¡­can you¡­Delilah! Something¡¯s wrong. Her eyes are moving, but she¡¯s not doing anything else.¡±

    ¡°Internal decapitation,¡± said Delilah. ¡°Potion, now. She broke her neck.¡±

    Bruno sprinted to the bag for their one and only potion. He jammed it into Allison¡¯s mouth, forcing her jaw open with his fingers, and rubbing her throat as he emptied its contents.

    For a few terrible moments, nothing happened. Then Allison gasped. Her limbs flailed out in every direction in a single great spasm.

    ¡°Oh, that was awful,¡± she choked out, ¡°really awful. I¡¯ve never had my neck broken before.¡±

    ¡°Glad to have you back. Ever treat a gut wound?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°Tons,¡± said Allison.

    As Bruno vomited on the other side of the room, Jeremiah and Allison followed Delilah¡¯s guidance to was able to stitch the hole in Delilah¡¯s abdomen back together, mostly. They finished it off with a thick green paste to stem the bleeding.

    As Delilah moved to tend Jeremiah¡¯s leg, Bruno asked, ¡°Jay, what the hell was that? How did you know what we were supposed to do?¡±

    ¡°Call it a hunch,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Cassidy wouldn¡¯t make a trap you could just brute force your way through, he¡¯s too tricky for that. This one was about knowing when to cut your losses and take the hit. Or something. Ouch.¡±

    ¡°Hush,¡± said Delilah. ¡°Everyone remember we¡¯re out of potions now. Please, please,  please,  stay sharp and no more deadly injuries!¡±

    ¡°Stay sharp, huh,¡± said Jeremiah, gazing at their spiked surroundings.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Delilah,¡± said Allison seriously, ¡°we¡¯ll keep our heads on straight.¡±

    ¡°Literally putting ourselves back together and you¡¯re making puns,¡± grumbled Delilah.

 Chapter 43. Cursed

    Chapter 43. Cursed

    As Delilah stowed her medical gear in preparation to leave the screw floor room, Allison motioned to Jeremiah. ¡°Can I talk to you for a sec?¡±

    There wasn¡¯t far to go, but Allison guided Jeremiah to the edge of the room where they could speak away from the others.

    Jeremiah eyed the deadly spikes as though they were eavesdroppers. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± It seemed an exceedingly strange time and place for a private talk.

    Allison spoke in a whisper. ¡°I realize there¡¯s a chance I might not survive this place, but there¡¯s something I want you to have, so I best give it to you now.¡± She handed Jeremiah a tiny parcel, a bit of burlap tied off with string.

    Jeremiah accepted the offering. It fit easily into the palm of his hand. Untying the string, he found a stringy wad of plant matter. It was thick and greasy, like a clump of roots dipped in oil. ¡°Uh, thanks. Is this tobacco?¡±

    ¡°Listen,¡± said Allison. ¡°When you get out of here and you meet this cult, or whatever it is, they¡¯re not going to shake your hand and welcome you aboard. They¡¯re going to make you do something to prove your commitment. It won¡¯t be something you want to do. Probably it won¡¯t be something you even want to remember doing. This stuff will make it easier.¡±

    ¡°Make it easier? What do you mean? And how do you know that?¡±

    ¡°Just easier,¡± said Allison, "It''ll help make you go away for a little while, the part of you that matters. Chew it it a few minutes before you have to do whatever it is. It¡¯ll taste rancid, but it¡¯s supposed to.¡±

    ¡°I feel like I should talk to¡ª

    ¡°No. Don¡¯t tell anyone else about this. I mean it. I hope you won¡¯t need it at all, but keep it in your pocket. Just in case.¡±

    ¡°I will,¡± said Jeremiah, because Allison clearly needed him to. He tucked the plant away, wondering what she wasn¡¯t telling him.

    Bruno was still inspecting the double doors when they returned to the group. He wiped sweat off his forehead, stood up, and began another sweep.

    ¡°Bruno, you can¡¯t keep this up,¡± said Delilah. ¡°We¡¯re never going to get anywhere, and besides, you¡¯re already exhausted.¡±

    ¡°What, are you going to take a turn?¡± Bruno popped a crick in his neck. ¡°No offense, but I¡¯d rather not die immediately. If we learn enough about how Cassidy thinks, maybe I won¡¯t need to be so meticulous at every moment, but until then¡ª¡±

    ¡°I have an alternative suggestion,¡± said Allison. ¡°You said ¡®we don¡¯t give the trapmaker what he wants¡¯, correct? What if, instead of dissecting the psychology of some long dead psychopath, we don¡¯t worry about that? What if screw that guy?¡±

    She drew her ax and pointing it at the wall. ¡°Have magic ax, make magic hole.¡±

    Bruno gripped the doorknob with a cloth in his hand. There was a hiss, and a puff of green smoke leaked from the cloth.

    ¡°Bruno?¡± Allison asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°I approve,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Cassidy is long dead, I can¡¯t see any reason to indulge him just because we need the loot.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± said Allison, ¡°I¡¯ve got no stake in this. Let¡¯s just get to the end.¡±

    ¡°I have a bad feeling about this,¡± said Bruno. ¡°But you might be right. Ducking the test feels like cheating the point of the dungeon but¡­I don¡¯t know, maybe that¡¯s better than beating it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± said Allison. With that, she raise her ax and swung on the wall.

    The walls in the circular room had wood paneling top to bottom, save for the rows of spikes. But as Allison¡¯s ax tore through it, a layer of metal was revealed beneath.

    ¡°Hang on,¡± said Jeremiah.

    Decay And Decay And Decay

    ¡°Why not just put it on a shatter loop?¡± asked Delilah.

    ¡°A what?¡± asked Jeremiah, placing his hands on the diagram.

    ¡°That thing where you make it so strong it breaks. I think shatter loop sounds like good shorthand,¡± said Delilah. She was struggling to her feet with all the steadiness of a baby fawn.

    ¡°Oh. Because I don¡¯t know how metal this thick will react, it might blow up. I want a little more control over what¡¯s about to happen,¡± said Jeremiah. He could imagine metal this thick shattering into a bunch of high speed mace heads, or causing some sort of crazy chain reaction.

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± said Delilah, wobbling on her feet.

    Jeremiah charged the diagram, and stepped aside for Allison to continue her work.

    The ax bit through the metal, tearing great chunks from it. Delilah picked up one of the chunks, ¡°So wait, it goes back to being hard after it comes off the wall?¡±

    Jeremiah nodded, resisting the urge to cover his ears from the screeching hacks, ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s no longer being affected by the enchantment. Allison, don¡¯t-Al! Don¡¯t hit the diagram or I¡¯ll have to redraw it please!¡±

    ¡°Noted,¡± grunted Allison.

    ¡°I called her Al and she didn¡¯t say anything¡­neat,¡± thought Jeremiah. He had never called her Al before.

    Bruno paced back and forth behind her, flinching at every swing. Finally, she cut through the metal barrier, and a whoosh of air rushed into the room.

    ¡°What, no gout of flame? No poison smog?¡± said Allison. ¡°I¡¯m disappointed.¡±

    Bruno inspected the hole. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of mechanisms. Probably controlling traps all over the building.¡±

    ¡°Safe to continue?¡± asked Allison, rolling her shoulders and hefting the ax again.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see any reason why not,¡± said Bruno, as though he wished he did.

    ¡°Trap this, you lockpicking thug!¡± Allison yelled and swung her ax again. The entire house rumbled as she cleaved through its innards, each swing of her ax pulling out piles of springs, chains, levers and tie bars with steady, efficient swings.

    ¡°I think she¡¯s enjoying this,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Allison doesn¡¯t like traps,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Jay! Put an inscription on the other side and I¡¯ll hack us an exit,¡± panted Allison.

    Jeremiah poked his head into the hole. All around, he saw an endless network of delicate metal components, the nearest ones smashed to smithereens, of course. He felt a continuous flow of warm air, like the breath of the dungeon. Quickly, he wrote the same inscription on the backside of the same metallic wall.

    Decay And Decay And Decay. ¡°All you,¡± he said, and Allison began hacking an exit. Even with the enchantment, the work took time, and Allison was winded by the time she waved them through.

    ¡°That¡¯s how you do a dungeon,¡± she huffed. Bruno led them into through.

    They emerged in the middle of another hallway. Compared to upstairs, the ground floor was a dilapidated mess. The floor was splintery old wood, and the walls were a rough plaster. Sloppily made torches lit the space unevenly.

    ¡°The hell is this?¡± asked Allison.

    ¡°An aesthetic choice?¡± guessed Bruno. ¡°Maybe testing your ability to handle traps in various settings.¡±

    ¡°Oh I¡¯m gonna handle it,¡± said Allison. She hefted the ax again, though she was still catching her breath.

    Once again, they hacked their way through the layered wood and metal wall. By the time they exited the opposite side, Allison was sweating.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t been running enough,¡± she chuckled, removing her helmet.

    They were now in a serene grotto. A central fountain of marble depicted an unknown goddess with hands outstretched. Water tricked down her arms, feeding two tiny rivers that snaked through a floor of polished lapis. Lush vines with broad leaves hung from baskets affixed to the ceiling. It was like discovering a hidden oasis in a forgotten jungle.

    ¡°This annoys me,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°The room is definitely trying to impress us,¡± said Bruno, scowling at the goddess. ¡°Obviously don''t drink the water.¡±

    ¡°I think it''s pretty,¡± said Jeremiah. If he weren''t convinced the statue were going to spray poison at him, he would enjoy being here.

    Allison huffed, but gave a thumbs up, agreeing with Jeremiah. She plopped against a wall and yawned deeply.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    Bruno inspected the room for further nasty surprises, and seemed irritated to report there were none to be found.

    ¡°Like hell the cute little peace and quiet room isn''t trapped,¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°I know,¡± said Bruno, ¡°but I''ve been over it twice, I cant find anything. Might just be a room to rest in?¡±

    ¡°Unexpected but appreciated,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Onto the next?¡±

    Allison spit and rubbed her eyes, losing the other eyebrow. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s keep digging.¡±

    She aligned herself with the wall she wanted gone and swung. The blue lapis tile work split, and suddenly the room was alight with violet arcs of lightning.

    ¡°You did it wrong,¡± said Delilah.

    They leapt together in a defensive formation. ¡°Jay, what¡¯s going on?¡± said Bruno. ¡°This isnt a trap.¡±

    The lights had triggered when Allison started attacking the wall. ¡°I think the dungeon core is angry we¡¯re cheating,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Cheating? Oh, excuse me, I didn''t know there was a rulebook. I demand a copy of the rules immediately!¡± Delilah shouted at the ceiling.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Allison asked over the hissing and crackling of the magical energy.

    ¡°It¡¯s a summoning,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Get ready!¡±

    The arcing strands of violet light slammed together into a tiny sphere in the center of the room. The sphere flashed, growing at incredible speeds, and took on a great bestial shape.

    Like cooling metal from the forge, a monstrous bear covered in bony plates emerged from the light. The bear was rippling muscle far beyond the bulk and height of even the largest normal bears. It roared in fury.

    ¡°Dire bear. Keep its focus on me and stay out of its mouth,¡± said Allison. She swapped the axe for her short spear and banged it against her shield.

    ¡°Wisdom for the ages,¡± said Bruno.

    They scattered as Allison thrust her spear up at the bear¡¯s nose to keep its attention. The magic spear pierced the bear¡¯s nostril, and it roared so loud the air shook. It lunged toward Allison, mouth agape, baring teeth as long as Jeremiah¡¯s hand.

    Allison dodged to the side and stabbed the spear into the bear¡¯s neck, its bony plates cracking at the impact. At the same time, Delilah thrust her spear into the bear¡¯s side, pushing hard to penetrate the thick hide and muscle. Bruno slashed at the backs of the bear¡¯s feet.

    Jeremiah thrust at a flank with his own spear, but lacking the magic enchantment of his friends, it was like stabbing a raw steak with a dull knife.

    The bear swung a monstrous claw at Allison and knocked her flying across the room. She collided with the goddess statue, letting it catch her in the open arms.

    ¡°You alright, Al?¡± called Bruno

    ¡°F-Fine,¡± Allison wheezed. She stood, but something was wrong. With effort, she raised her weapons and staggered toward the bear again. Banging her shield once to draw its attention, the thrust her spear into its neck.

    Blood gushed from the wound, but the bear was unperturbed. It batted Allison to the side again, then turned towards Delilah.

    ¡°C''mere big guy, time to slow you down,¡± said Bruno. In a flurry of blades, he tore through the tough sinews of the bear¡¯s back leg,

    The bear toppled onto its side and they lay into it, swinging and stabbing at whatever spots they cold reach.

    Jeremiah realized Allison was not among them. She was a few feet away, hunched over and panting.

    ¡°Al, toss me the spear!¡± called Bruno. Allison dropped the spear toward Bruno rather than throw it, and dropped her shield as well in the process.

    The bear clambered back to its feet. ¡°Jay, get this thing over!¡± Bruno yelled. He was dancing just beyond the bear''s reach, Allison¡¯s spear at the ready.

    Jeremiah cast a ball of acid at the bear''s feet. It pooled under the bear''s paws, burning through the sensitive pads. The bear growled and retreated from the pool, roaring in pain as its injured legs gave way again.

    Bruno rushed in with a ferocious scream, ramming the spear into the bear''s underside. He shoved hard, spinning away from the bear¡¯s raking claws, only to return and shove the spear deeper.

    With one last hard push, the spear reached the bear¡¯s heart. The animal shuddered and spasmed, its limbs a flurry of claws, then lay still.

    ¡°Health check!¡± Delilah called.

    ¡°Good!¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Good,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°G-g-good,¡± wheezed Allison.

    ¡°Textbook work, everyone,¡± said Bruno.

    Delilah was rushing to Allison¡¯s side. ¡°Hon, what''s going on?¡±

    ¡°F-fine,¡± said Allison. She was sweating profusely, her face growing pale.

    ¡°I''ve seen her work harder than that,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Somethings wrong, she shouldn''t be breathing this hard.¡±

    ¡°Respiratory,¡± mumbled Delilah. ¡°Anyone else feeling anything?¡± Everyone was normal levels of exhausted.

    Delilah started touching Allison''s face and asking if she could feel it. Then shaking her left arm around.

    ¡°She get hurt fighting the bear?¡± asked Bruno. He was slowly backing away from Allison, not quite looking at her.

    ¡°Maybe. Could be a heart attack?¡± said Delilah. She gave Allison an injection, to no immediate effect.

    ¡°It started earlier than that,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°she was out of breath after the first wall she hacked through.¡±

    Delilah shook her head, ¡°Can''t be a gas, we would have smelt it, or seen it, or my detectors would have¡­oh no.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    Delilah dashed to the hole in the wall they¡¯d entered through. She pulled a metal ring from the Giant¡¯s Bag with dozens of small slips of white paper threaded on to it. She flipped through them until she found one tiny page that was pitch black.

    ¡°Oh no. Oh no no no.¡­¡± Delilah drew a small tin box from the bag. She broke the wax seal around the lip of the box and revealed a second ring of paper slips. She waved them at the hole, and one of the slips turned from white to black in seconds.

    ¡°Get her in the bag!¡± Delilah screamed.

    ¡°What? What¡¯s going on?¡± asked Bruno. He and Jeremiah were already helping Allison to her feet. Her legs wobbled beneath her.

    ¡°It¡¯s Furnace Curse. Jay, I need your help inside, Bruno stay out here and guard us.¡±

    ¡°Delilah, I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m not cursed.¡± Allison tried to shake off Bruno and Jeremiah with a weak shrug.

    ¡°I did not go to medical school for eight years for  you  to tell  me  you¡¯re fine! You are suffocating, and we need to improvise a solution.¡±

    The three of them manhandled Allison into the bag. Jeremiah leapt down after, floating down to a chaotic scene as Delilah cast aside piles of lab equipment to make room to lay Allison down.

    ¡°Here to help,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°What¡¯s Furnace Curse and how do we stop it?¡±

    Delilah spoke quickly, snatching chemicals and lighting burners. ¡°It¡¯s not a curse, it¡¯s a gas, odorless and invisible. It makes you suffocate. This place was built on top of a coal deposit, and there¡¯s probably small fires burning underground all the time. That¡¯s why the walls were pressurized. It¡¯s like a natural trap.¡±

    ¡°I can breathe just fine,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°I swear to all that is holy, stop arguing with me,¡± said Delilah. ¡°You are dying. You are dying and I have very little in the way of options to save you. Jay, grab those bottles there and the bag of¡ªthe  other  bottles, are you trying to get us killed?!¡±

    Jeremiah jumped when she shouted and grabbed what he hoped were the correct bottles. ¡°We can try to get out, find a potion,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m sure we can get one on credit, or steal it, or something.¡±

    ¡°Potions won¡¯t work, she¡¯s not injured. I have to pump her full of breathable air, put her in a coma, and pressurize the inside of the bag.¡±

    ¡°Woah, what? Put me in a coma?¡± Allison turned to Jeremiah with a face full of confusion.

    ¡°Ahh I have no time to explain, just trust me!¡± said Delilah ¡°Jay, inside that box you¡¯ll find a bunch of syringes. Give me the one labeled ¡®Allison.¡¯¡±

    Jeremiah opened the box she¡¯d indicated. It was full of syringes, and each was labeled with a name¡ªBruno, Allison, Delilah, Jeremiah, and several he didn¡¯t recognize. He grabbed the requested needle and handed it to Delilah.

    ¡°Say goodnight, Allison,¡± said Delilah, plunging the needle into Allison¡¯s neck before she could react.

    ¡°I never-¡± Allison slumped over.

    Delilah continued setting various chemicals to heating and separating, her hands a blur over the equipment.

    ¡°Is she going to be okay? Are we?¡± asked Jeremiah. He was desperate for reassurance that everything was going to be perfectly fine.

    ¡°Doubtful, but I¡¯m going to try. She was the only one wheezing. If you start feeling sleepy¡­well, we can cross that bridge when we come to it.¡± Delilah affixed a tight leather mask around Allison¡¯s mouth and nose, and connected a thin tube between the mask and a glass pipette.

    ¡°Head up,¡± said Delilah. ¡°I need you to seal the bag and not open it again. I¡¯ll open it from my side when it¡¯s safe.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll have Bruno get us out of here,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Makes no difference, she¡¯ll fare no better outside the dungeon than she will inside of it. If you can get out, do it. If you can get what we came for, do that.¡±

    Jeremiah could see beneath the frantic energy a twisted anxiety. He could see it in her gritted teeth, the way she dug her nails into everything, and the barely perceptible shine in her eyes.

    ¡°Hey, Delilah, it''s going to be okay. It''s not your fau-¡±

    ¡°Then whose fault is it Jay?!¡± Delilah screamed. Proper screamed, louder than he''d ever heard her before. Most disturbing was how she didn''t falter in her preparations for even a moment. ¡°Who was in charge of the gas detectors?! Who forgot them in the bag? Who made the mistake?! Who lost our house?!¡±

    She grabbed at anything on the table, a rack of glass tubes, and threw it against a shelf. She balled up her hands in her hair and screamed, eyes tightly shut and tears finally running down her cheeks.

    Leaving with more questions than answers, Jeremiah hurried out of the bag.

 Chapter 44. Principles

    Chapter 44. Principles

    Jeremiah emerged back into the oasis room to find Bruno touching a blank wall. ¡°Bad news,¡± he said, ¡°the holes Allison hacked open just closed up. Wall grew back over it like a damn scab.¡±

    ¡°Worse news,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°Allison and Delilah are out of action for now. Maybe for¡­well, for now.¡± There didn¡¯t seem any reason to panic Bruno about how sick Allison really was. Besides, he didn¡¯t really understand it himself. ¡°No bag either, Delilah says we need to keep it shut.¡±

    They were quiet for a moment. There was a surreal quality to the situation. Two adventurers down, they were at half strength. No fighter, no doctor. Jeremiah felt horribly exposed. ¡°What now?¡±

    ¡°We carry on,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Through the wall?¡±

    Jeremiah shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s what got Allison sick. And I don¡¯t think the dungeon liked it either, that¡¯s why the bear was summoned.¡±

    Bruno nodded. ¡°Want to take a guess why the bear this time, and not when we went through the last two walls?¡±

    Jeremiah thought for a minute. ¡°It didn¡¯t react until Allison hit the wall again. Summoning something so large must take a huge amount of energy. We¡¯re close to something important, aren¡¯t we?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re learning quick. I think it tipped it¡¯s hand with that one.¡±

    ¡°So we press on?¡± asked Jeremiah. ¡°Even though we¡¯re down two people?¡±

    ¡°To sound only the exact proper amount of cocky, we still have the most important person for this place,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Let¡¯s get what we came for.¡±

    They tried the door leading what should be further into the dungeon. The short hallway beyond was reminiscent of an undersea cave, with blue glowing crystals hanging from the ceiling and shells dotting the walls. There was no exit.

    ¡°Ugh, tacky,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Why would there be a dead end?¡± asked Jeremiah. ¡°Space seems to be at such a premium here, it¡¯s just a waste.¡±

    ¡°Good point, what does that mean?¡±

    ¡°That means¡­it¡¯s not a dead end, is it? It also means it¡¯d be weird for that last room to only exist as a nice place to rest.¡±

    As Bruno busied himself checking the new hallway for traps, Jeremiah contemplated the inconsistency. He pushed away the thoughts about Allison that kept bubbling up. Delilah was doing her job, and she was relying on him to do his.

    Bruno had already searched the oasis room more thoroughly than Jeremiah ever could, and he hadn¡¯t spotted anything notable.

    ¡°What¡¯s with these theme-y rooms?¡± Jeremiah asked. ¡°One big centerpiece to draw your attention¡ªthat¡¯s got to have something to do with it, right?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it awful?¡± said Bruno. ¡°Where''s the subtlety? I''m expecting a basement with skeletons chained to the walls next.¡±

    Jeremiah contemplated the statue. It had been damaged during the battle with the dire bear, now the goddess looked up to arms that ended in stumps. Water still bubbled forth from them, flowing down to feed the twin rivulets in the floor.

    Rivulets that continued into the dead-end hallway before disappearing into the floor. ¡°Huh,¡± said Jeremiah.

    The spray from the water was ice cold. When the statue had been whole, the water seeped gently from the palms. He would have had to raise his hands in a near-embrace of the statue to reach the outflow. In its broken state, water burbled up from the statue¡¯s stumps, spilling onto Jeremiah¡¯s shoes.

    ¡°Oh, I get it!¡± Jeremiah pressed his palms into the smooth marble of the broken stumps, firmly enough to block the flow of water. After a moment, he heard a click, and the wall blocking the dead-end hallway slid away, revealing a new passage.

    ¡°Not bad!¡± said Bruno. ¡°Good reasoning. You should have let me check the water lines for traps, though.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for the almost compliment,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°You almost earned it. Now step aside and let''s get this hallway checked out.¡±

    Bruno kept Jeremiah close and began testing him. Asking him to pick out oddities that might signal a trap, feeling for aberrations in air flow and temperature that could mean a seam in a trigger.

    ¡°Luckily, disarming most traps is just a matter of breaking them,¡± said Bruno. He snaked a metal hook under a pressure plate, gripped it, and yanked. Something snapped underneath the stone floor. ¡°And breaking anything is easy. Oh sure, there''s some that are set off by breaking them. But they¡¯re less common, out of your expertise for now.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Of course, there''s traps that are so convoluted that you only think you''re breaking them. Those are called Rats Nest designs. You''ll learn that there are different designations of traps and triggers,¡± Bruno continued to ramble on, pressing a cork into a concealed hole in the wall.

    ¡°Uh-huh,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Now, there''s also Shark Fin structures, and those date back-¡±

    ¡°You trying not to worry about Allison?¡± Interrupted Jeremiah.

    ¡°Yes, please don''t disrupt my cope,¡± said Bruno, ¡°anyways, a Shark Fin is an anti-tool component-¡±

    Jeremiah just let Bruno talk, listening was proving to be an effective coping tool as well.

    Eventually they reached the end of the underwater themed hallway. The aquamarine stones became odd chaotic grey bricks, stacked haphazardly along either side of them like a long abandoned tunnel. It reminded Jeremiah of the first dungeon he had entered with his friends, some sort of long abandoned cellar to a great castle. Glowing crystals became oily torches, and the hall descended down stone stairs into darkness below.

    ¡°I hate this guy,¡± said Bruno. ¡°And I hate stairs.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not that old yet,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Not because I can¡¯t climb them, you ass,¡± said Bruno, ¡°It¡¯s because traps are a lot easier to hide on stairs. They¡¯re also harder to access safely, especially when going down them. Harder to dodge without jumping down and risking more traps, and a lot easier to get tagged by something and knocked down the stairs onto more traps.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what¡¯s going to happen,¡± said Jeremiah suddenly.

    ¡°What? How do you know?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°Think about it. What was the whole point of that Tunnel Ooze? Allison said it wasn¡¯t a difficult fight, but it forced you into setting off traps. The door with a message written in halfling? What¡¯s the point of the warning? This Cassidy guy wants you to set off his traps,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Of course he does, that¡¯s the point of traps,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°No, it''s more than that,¡± said Jeremiah, turning Bruno to look him hard in the eyes, ¡°These rooms have ridiculous themes. For who? The traps are convoluted and weird. Why? The Dungeon Core and the Furnace Curse gas stops you from getting through walls. Hell, even the guards outside are paid to stop people from getting into the house in a way that isn¡¯t right.¡±

    Bruno smiled at Jeremiah, shaking his head in disbelief, ¡°It¡¯s pride. Cassidy is damn proud of his little house of traps. He wants to show it to us. He wants us to see the traps, the decor, all of it.¡±

    Jeremiah slapped him on the shoulder, ¡°Exactly! He may have thought he was building a test for thieves, but what he was really doing was-¡±

    ¡°Building a shrine to his own sense of pride,¡± finished Bruno, ¡°look at how clever I am. Look at my impeccable taste, learn my important lessons, admire my deadly traps, but most especially don¡¯t avoid them¡­which is why something is going to force us down the stairs faster than we want.¡±

    ¡°So we can set off more traps,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°But why do that if the admirers are going to be killed?¡± Bruno asked.

    ¡°Does it matter?¡± answered Jeremiah with a shrug.

    ¡°Hah! You weren¡¯t born for this kind of work Jay, but you¡¯re certainly a talented amateur. That being said, I¡¯m going to need you to acid splash the ceiling. I¡¯ve got a hunch.¡±

    Taking careful aim, Jeremiah fired several balls of acid against the gray stone ceiling where Bruno had indicated. The acid hissed, and as it dripped away, a distinct rectangular outline appeared¡ª a large trap door, nearly the width of the passageway.

    ¡°Allow me.¡± Bruno leapt onto the wall, clinging to the smooth stone with one of the magic handles, and pried into the gap with a throwing sword. After a few stiff jabs and a wrenching motion, the trap door sprung open. A massive round boulder fell onto the stairs and began rolling down with the deafening sound of stone-on-stone. As it went, darts, spears, and swinging blades stabbed at its wake. They heard it roll around and around the spiral stairs before settling somewhere far below.

    ¡°Giant rolling boulder,¡± said Bruno, ¡°figures.¡±

    They descended the stairs together, navigating the discarded trap elements. The boulder had done a better job than they ever could have.

    ¡°Boulder chases you down the steps into the other awaiting traps,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Just like the tunnel ooze,¡± said Jeremiah. He picked up one of the spears that had thrust down from the ceiling. It was solid, but horribly balanced. Purely industrial.

    ¡°A rushed trap is a dangerous trap,¡± said Bruno.

    Click

    ¡°What was that? What did you step on?¡± asked Bruno. He crouched, preparing to leap to safety.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Nothing, I didn¡¯t step on any¡ª¡±

    There was a thunderous boom, and a familiar sound began above them. A rumbling angry growl that grew louder and louder. A second boulder.

    ¡°Oh you gotta be kidding me!¡± shouted Bruno.

    Bruno shoved Jeremiah to the outside of the staircase and yanked him to the ground. The edge of the stone flagons bit into Jeremiah''s back and shoulders as Bruno yanked his arms out over his head, stretching him out long and thin as possible in the corner where the stairs met the wall.

    The boulder shook the stairs like an earthquake. All that kept Jeremiah from sprinting down the stairs was the trust he had in Bruno. Bruno threw his swords as fast as a bird''s wings beat, the magic blades biting deep into the stairs above them and wedging there.

    The sight of the boulder rolling towards them caused Jeremiah to shrink even further back into his corner. The boulder struck Bruno¡¯s blades, altering its course by the slightest amounts away from Jeremiah and towards the inner wall.

    Bruno leapt with an acrobat''s grace, springing off the wall diving through the narrow gap between boulder and ceiling.

    Jeremiah remembered seeing Bruno jump, and the distinct texture of the surface of the boulder. Then he was looking up at his friend¡¯s concerned face.

    ¡°Jay? Jay, can you hear me?¡± Bruno leaned close, putting his ear to Jeremiah''s mouth. ¡°I can feel you breathing, so you''re not¡ª¡±

    Darkness.

    ¡°Wake up, Jay, come on!¡± Bruno was doing something to Jeremiah that made his body jerk and his chest hurt.

    Jeremiah''s lungs screamed for air. He obliged them and something awful shifted in his chest.

    ¡°There he is!¡± cried Bruno.

    ¡°Am I okay?¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°You''re alive,¡± said Bruno. ¡°But you¡¯re hurt. Your nose is messed up, and uh¡­your foot is uh¡­b-broken.¡± He swallowed hard.

    Jeremiah pushed himself up and waited for the agony. It never came. He looked at his foot. It was crumpled strangely¡ªhis toes and the front half pointed straight up, as though someone had tried to roll his foot up. It didn¡¯t hurt.

    He touched it. Still nothing. He grabbed the injured part with both hands.

    ¡°Oh no, please don''t!¡± Bruno said.

    Jeremiah unrolled his foot with a long sinewy crunch. It didn¡¯t hurt. Bruno puked with enthusiasm. Jeremiah felt his nose and found it flattened against his face.

    ¡°We weren¡¯t going to outrun that boulder, were we?¡± asked Jeremiah. His voice sounded nasally and unfamiliar.

    ¡°No,¡± gagged Bruno.

    ¡°Thanks, then,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Get your swords, let¡¯s get off the stairs before another one of those things shows up.¡±

    The stair opened to a massive underground room. Jeremiah half expected it to be stacked high with bodies, like the crypt King Growler had prepared for him. Instead, this one was stylized like a gigantic dungeon cell, complete with skeletons in the final stage of decay shackled to the wall.

    The pair of boulders nestled at a holding space at the bottom of the staircase. Jeremiah eyed them as he limped past, half expecting them to leap up somehow to finish the job. He was able to walk if he was careful about placing his weight on the heel of his foot, but an ache was starting to grow.

    ¡°There won¡¯t be any traps in this room, I reckon,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Cassidy wouldn¡¯t want to distract from his grand finale.¡± He crossed the room with confidence to inspect a great vault door on the far side. It was monolothic, and depicted a host of angels in dramatic poses cavorting and playing trumpets and harps. They clustered tighter and tighter as they approached the center of the door, but at its center was a large devils head with curled horns and a wide open mouth. The angels kept a respectable distance from the face that looked outward with a look of mild surprise.

    Bruno had traveled the room unmolested, but as Jeremiah moved to follow, the ache in his foot flared and blossomed. He grasped, trying not to scream, and then gave up and screamed as loud as he could. The pain spread from his foot to his hips and rips, his smashed up face, building like a house fire until it became a raging inferno consuming everything in its path.

    Then it was as bad as it was going to get. Jeremiah¡¯s screams faded to whimpers, then he was panting. The inferno still burned through him, but he could handle it, could master it and set it aside. At least enough to continue.

    Bruno had been following Jeremiah¡¯s progress patiently, letting Jeremiah scream himself out. ¡°Caught up with you, huh?¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes it did,¡± Jeremiah growled. ¡°What''s up with the door?¡±

    Bruno looked at the masterpiece of metal and sighed, ¡°Cassidy and I wouldn''t have gotten along based on taste alone. Sad. I need to take my time here, wait further back for me. I don''t want you anywhere near this thing.¡±

    Leaning on his short spear as a crutch, Jeremiah took his distance and let Bruno work.

    ¡°This room reminds me of the dungeon in Nosirin. Remember that?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°With the bodies?¡± asked Bruno, prodding at the eyes of an angel.

    ¡°Yeah, hundreds of them,¡± said Jeremiah. His memory stacked them up again, piles and piles in neat rows.

    ¡°Yup, just for you,¡± said Bruno absently.

    Jeremiah remembered with a jolt that they¡¯d executed prisoners in preparation for his arrival. People had been ordered to death because a necromancer was coming to help, and he''d need material to work with. He¡¯d never made that connection before.

    How far a cry Nosirin had been from where he was now, he realized. From blindly commanding hundreds of undead to manipulating a single rat with unimaginable precision. Even casting magic through it¡ªthat was a sign of mastery he¡¯d never known was possible. He felt a swell of pride at the achievement.

    ¡°Tell me of your achievements,¡±  said Allison.

    His pride snuffed out as suddenly as an extinguished candle. The Tragedy had only happened because of his achievement. His supposed mastery had led to pain and death and suffering on an unprecedented scale.

    ¡° It wasn''t my fault,¡±  thought Jeremiah,  ¡°Pete said-¡±

    ¡°What did Pete say?¡±  said Allison,  ¡°What was it Pete said that forced you to obey him?¡±

    If Jeremiah had only failed or even refused, thousands of shattered lives would still be whole.

    He saw it now, clearer than he¡¯d ever allowed himself before. If he¡¯d kept his promise to quit necromancy, none of that day would have happened. If he¡¯d stuck to his word, maybe Pete would have been angry, but the city would have been spared.

    ¡°There will always be a reason,¡±  said Allison.

    ¡°Always,¡±  said Flusoh.

    ¡°Alright I got the gist of it,¡± said Bruno, ¡°This head here is a countdown mechanism. Let me show you.¡± He twisted the head of one of the angels, one with a more menacing disposition and holding a subtle knife behind it''s back. As the head turned away from the devil face, an aperture in the center opened to reveal a deep fist-sized hole in the devil''s mouth.

    Bruno released the angel. Jeremiah heard a faint ticking sound as the head gradually rotated back towards its original position.

    ¡°Obviously, this hole in the middle is the mechanism to open it, which you access by activating the timer. It¡¯s a classic timed lock picking challenge, with just one wrinkle.¡±

    At Bruno¡¯s words, the timer ran down and the aperture slammed shut. ¡°Ah,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Failure means dismemberment, huh?¡±

    ¡°So it would seem,¡± said Bruno. ¡°I¡¯ve had a poke around inside with the tools, but its too deep for  just  the tools. Ill need to get in there manually, which I am very loath to do.¡±

    Bruno wiggled his fingers. ¡°Fortunately, Cassidy¡¯s cheesy design sensibility has left plenty of spares around. Jay, if you would?¡± He gestured to the nearest skeleton shackled to the wall.

    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± Jeremiah was almost as surprised as Bruno to hear the words leave his lips.

    ¡°Can''t? You okay?¡± Bruno looked Jeremiah up and down.

    Jeremiah licked his lips. ¡°I won¡¯t. I won¡¯t raise the dead anymore. I keep hurting people. People ask me to do necromancy, and when I do terrible things happen. So, I¡¯m not going to be that person anymore. Really, this time.¡±

    Bruno nodded along until Jeremiah finished. ¡°Okay, okay. But consider the following¡ªwhat the fuck are you talking about? We¡¯re in a dungeon. Our lives and  our friends¡¯ lives¡ª you didn¡¯t forget about them did you?¡ªare at stake here. The person you want to be is alive, right? So quit philosophizing and get the damn job done.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± It was scary to say with Bruno scowling at him, but Jeremiah was resolute. ¡°We do it the old fashioned way.¡±

    ¡°¡®We,¡¯ he says,¡± muttered Bruno, turning back to the lock. ¡°Bet your tune would be different if you were the one sticking your hand in here.¡±

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Shut up!¡± Bruno barked, ¡°Let me concentrate.¡±

    Bruno reset the timer and prodded the mechanism inside the angels neck with his tools. The angel''s gaze now frozen, the aperture permanently revealed.

    Finally, flexing his fingers and taking a breath, Bruno plunged his hand into the hole. The timer only sporadically twitched as he worked, face screwed up in concentration.

    Jeremiah watched confidently. Bruno could handle this lock, just like the countless others Jeremiah had watched him conquer with ease. So why was something tickling the back of his mind?

    This was the end of the dungeon, the final task of Cassidy¡¯s monument. The culmination of his life¡¯s work, to be passed on to the right person. What would he plan for this moment, right when you¡¯re about to best his dungeon and usurp his crown?

    ¡°Juuuust about there,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡° I want to be remembered ,¡± said Cassidy.

    Jeremiah understood. ¡°Bruno, wait!¡± he shouted.

    But it was too late. ¡°Got it!¡± Bruno announced with triumph. There was a loud bang from inside the door, Bruno''s face contorted in a wordless scream, and the head of every angel turned to stare down at him.

 Chapter 45. Mementos

    Chapter 45. Mementos

    Bruno¡¯s face contorted in a silent scream. He yanked on his arm to no avail. A low groan escaped him, the sound building in volume to a shout, a roar, a howl of fury.

    ¡°Bruno! Bruno what happened?!¡± Jeremiah hobbled over to him, but he had no idea what to do.

    ¡°Something just went through my arm!¡± Bruno shouted, ¡°It was the primary bolt, it shouldn¡¯t have done that! Why did it do that?!¡± Bruno yanked again and screamed.

    ¡°Because that¡¯s what it was designed to do. Cassidy wants to be remembered, he wants you to leave something behind,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Oh, no no no,¡± Bruno started to shake, ¡°oh come on, no. I can¡¯t lose an arm. I can¡¯t lose an arm.¡±

    ¡°Can you get yourself out?¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I can do that,¡± said Bruno. With his free hand Bruno began sliding a paper thin shim between his arm and the hole. He took deep breaths and closed his eyes, probing with the shiv.

    ¡° Bruno will get out of this ,¡± he thought. ¡° He¡¯ll just pop the trap open and free himself. Any second now .¡±

    Bruno began tugging on his arm, closing his eyes and attempting to maneuver something inside the hole that Jeremiah couldn¡¯t see.

    Jeremiah was surprised to hear Thurok¡¯s voice come to the forefront of his mind,  ¡°This is not a test. This is a debt to be paid. You must understand sacrifice.¡±

    ¡°The bolt feels loose,¡± Bruno mumbled, wincing as he pulled, ¡°like it¡¯s not attached to anything.¡±

    ¡°It might not be,¡± suggested Jeremiah.

    ¡°What¡¯s the point of that? Then it¡¯d just be stuck. Maybe it broke, hang on¡­¡±

    ¡°Bruno, I think it might be working as intended,¡± said Jeremiah softly. He put a hand on Bruno¡¯s shoulder.

    Bruno suddenly swung his free hand at Jeremiah in an awkward attack. It glanced off Jeremiah¡¯s head as he ducked out of the way, falling to the ground when he tried to stand on his broken foot.

    ¡°You soonuva bitch!¡± Bruno screamed at him, ¡°This is your fault! One skeleton would have been enough! You selfish bastard!¡± Bruno kicked at him, and Jeremiah scrambled away, just out of his reach.

    ¡°All that power and you¡¯re worried about you! You¡¯ll save your own skin time and time again but when it¡¯s not you on the line you¡¯re suddenly trying to be a better person!? Bullshit Jay! You think it¡¯s some noble deed that you won¡¯t use necromancy? Because you¡¯re not responsible enough!? Because you might screw up? We keep swords from children because they¡¯re not responsible Jay! You¡¯re a man! A sorry excuse of a coward of a man!¡±

    Bruno raged and yanked on his arm so hard Jeremiah thought it would tear free. But he was transfixed, no one had ever spoken to him about his decision like that.

    ¡°Bruno, I¡¯m doing the right thing. I-¡±

    ¡°Oh you piece of shit, you absolute,¡± Bruno kicked at him again, ¡°You like the little pats on the head you get? You like that everyone congratulates you for being weak? That¡¯s what they¡¯re doing Jay! You¡¯re telling them you¡¯re too weak to handle it, and they pat you on the head and call you a good boy for being honest with yourself! You¡¯re treated like a damn child and you love it! Because it¡¯s safe! Because it¡¯s easy!¡± Bruno¡¯s face was a mask of fury and disgust. ¡°You¡¯re pathetic Jay! You really are pathetic!¡±

    Bruno kept screaming. ¡°You think you¡¯re so noble, giving up your power? You¡¯re weak! You try to hide it behind your moral arguments, but you¡¯re just a frightened little boy!¡±

    His fervor echoed around the chamber. Jeremiah stared, stunned into silence.

    ¡°It¡¯s wasted on you.¡± Bruno¡¯s voice was low now, venomous. Jeremiah was afraid to listen. ¡°All that power, wasted on someone too scared to use it. You could do so much more, could  be  so much more than you are.¡±

    Bruno rested his head against the door, his breathing ragged. Jeremiah, in contrast, held his breath. He was terrified Bruno would start up again.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± said Jeremiah, and in that moment he was. In that moment, all of his moral questions and debates and fear fell away, and he saw himself exactly as Bruno had described¡ªtoo overwhelmed and too afraid to wield the power he¡¯d once craved. Or, more accurately, too afraid of the responsibility it demanded. ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Bruno remained motionless. His breathing slowed, though still pulled through clenched teeth. Blood seeped from the hole, pooling on the floor blow.

    ¡°Get a rope,¡± Bruno said again, ¡°and make some heat. I¡¯m going to need you to cauterize¡­¡± he swallowed, ¡°something.¡±

    Jeremiah started on the heating surface first, etching a simple Heat rune into an enchanting plate. His hands moved with practiced efficiency, even though the rest of him was trembling. He charged the plate, bringing it to blue-hot before the enchantment broke, and set it by Bruno¡¯s feet.

    He tied the first rope around Bruno¡¯s trapped arm, as close as possible to the door. The rope cut into his forearm, and Bruno hissed in pain as Jeremiah winched the windlass as tight as he could. He added the second rope around Bruno¡¯s upper arm, hoping to reduce the blood flow as much as possible.

    ¡°You ready?¡± asked Bruno, nodding toward the sword.

    ¡°Are you?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°No,¡± said Bruno.

    Jeremiah picked up the sword.

    ¡°Okay, just¡­try to get as much on this side of the door as you can okay?¡± said Bruno. He grabbed a few scraps of his ruined leather armor and put them between his teeth.

    ¡°Okay, here we go,¡± said Jeremiah, raising the sword over his head with two hands. It felt so strange; the sword, the situation, what he was about to do.

    ¡°Do it!¡± shouted Bruno.

    ¡°You ready!?¡± Jeremiah shouted back.

    ¡°Do it!¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Bruno screamed. Jeremiah screamed. Jeremiah brought the sword down. The cut wasn¡¯t perfect, but the enchantment did enough of the work to get the job done in a single swing.

    Bruno was free. Bruno dropped and slammed the stump of his arm onto the burning hot metal plate at his feet. Jeremiah jumped down onto him and helped press the stump into the burning metal. Bruno just kept screaming. The hiss of boiling blood and stink of cooking flesh filled Jeremiah¡¯s senses with the white cloud of steam that rose up.

    ¡°Hold it! Hold it!¡± Jeremiah shouted at Bruno. He didn¡¯t know much about burning wounds shut, but he knew you had to keep it there till the job was done.

    Bruno suddenly went limp in his arms, and Jeremiah struggled to hold him up. Eventually, Jeremiah shoved Bruno off. No further parts of Bruno¡¯s arm came off, save for a blackened circle of blood on the plate.

    Jeremiah wrapped the medical bandages around as much of Bruno¡¯s arm as he could. He was acting on instinct, his mind blank, he was only observing his hands at work. He wrapped and wrapped until there were no bandages left. Bruno remained unconscious, or dead.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t be dead,¡± thought Jeremiah when he was finished. He fell backwards, laying on the floor of the dungeon, exhaustion suddenly overwhelming him. He felt dizzy, he felt sick. He had hacked apart his friend''s arm like an amateur butcher. He closed his eyes. It wasn¡¯t sleep taking him, it was something else. Some part of him that just wanted everything to stop.

    ¡°You die?¡± Bruno¡¯s voice woke Jeremiah out of whatever stupor he had been in.

    ¡°Huh? Bruno? You okay?¡± Jeremiah tried to sit up, but just couldn¡¯t bring himself to do it, he felt too weak.

    ¡°Lost an arm and burned it shut. Nah, I¡¯m not okay. You okay?¡± said Bruno. He was laying where Jeremiah had left him.

    ¡°Cut my friend¡¯s arm off and¡­coming to terms with the fact that I might be a coward,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°also Allison might be dead, and my foot broke in half.¡±

    ¡°Big day,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Big day,¡± confirmed Jeremiah.

    They lay like that for a while longer, basking in their various pains.

    ¡°I can still feel my arm,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°Oh yeah?¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Yeah. Hurts.¡± said Bruno.

    More quiet suffering.

    ¡°Want to see the fabled treasure?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah I do,¡± said Bruno. They finally managed to sit up together, Jeremiah couldn¡¯t help but look at Bruno¡¯s red stained stump. Bruno was doing the same.

    ¡°Can a potion fix this?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°No, can¡¯t regrow pieces,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°but maybe we can get your arm out of there.¡±

    Looking at the hole, Jeremiah could see the bloody stump of Bruno¡¯s arm sticking out, the tiny white circles of bone just barely visible. He took the spear and touched the severed arm. As soon as he did, a metal plate snapped down, covering the hole. There was a mechanical chunk sound from inside the door, and a dull grinding noise.

    ¡°I think the door ate your arm,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Yeah, that makes sense. Let¡¯s just get out of here.¡±

    The vault door opened now without resistance, sliding smoothly along a track. The treasure room within could have contained a small house, but it was empty save for a black marble writing desk in the very center.

    Atop the desk were two stacks of papers and a large orange crystal, streaked with blue. As they approached, the colors of the crystal swirled and twisted.

    Jeremiah hadn¡¯t expected Cassidy¡¯s fabled treasure to be a pile of gold and jewels¡ªhe hadn¡¯t known what to expect, at this point¡ªbut a pile of paperwork was still a surprise. He picked up a stack and leafed through it.

    ¡°These are all legal documents¡­I¡¯m seeing land deeds, contractual agreements for farming subsidies, credit for agricultural companies. Business licenses and identification papers, too.¡±

    ¡°It''s a new life,¡± said Bruno, looking through his own stack. ¡°A real way out. There¡¯s a new identity, a new purpose¡ªeverything the enterprising street urchin could need, all prepped in advance. True freedom in another life.¡±

    Jeremiah thumbed through the sheets, wondering at the life-changing power they contained. A thought occurred to him. ¡°I wonder if anyone else ever made it this far?¡±

    ¡°Could be, right?¡± said Bruno. ¡°The treasure is that you get to leave your old life behind. Anyone could just disappear as though they¡¯d died, and the legend of the Gilded Vault lives on. I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any way to know for sure.¡±

    ¡°Not us, though,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°The treasure¡¯s just a means to an end for me. Besides,¡± he turned to the crystal, ¡°that¡¯s the dungeon core. It¡¯s the most interesting thing here.¡±

    The tiny motes of blue pulsed at Jeremiah¡¯s words.

    ¡°Valuable?¡± asked Bruno.

    ¡°No idea,¡± said Jeremiah. The crystal was the size of his palm, but when he moved to pick it up, he found it stuck fast. Further inspection revealed it was built into the marble of the desk.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just smash it,¡± said Bruno. He gestured the motion with his missing hand, and grimaced.

    Jeremiah had a different idea. With his enchanting tools, he etched the runes Gently Decay into the marble surface around the crystal. Once charged, he began to rub the marble, and the affected section of the massive desk eroded under his hands, revealing more and more of the crystal.

    The dungeon core was larger than it had seemed, plunging below the surface of the desk. Jeremiah needed both hands to lift it from its place, and it rang discordantly when he did, intoning like a warped bell. The colors swirled in a frenzied tempest.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s panicking,¡± said Jeremiah, holding the dungeon core up to torchlight to watch the colors race.

    ¡°Good. I¡¯m still deciding on whether I¡¯d rather break it.¡± Bruno¡¯s missing hand reached for the hilt of his sword.

    ¡°Let''s keep it for now. But if either of us so much as stumbles on our way out,¡± he raised his voice to speak to the crystal directly, ¡°we bust it on the nearest rock.¡±

    They gathered the paperwork bundles. It felt like a light haul for besting a dungeon of legend, but Jeremiah reminded himself that words on a page could be more valuable than any monetary prize¡ªhe knew that better than most. He suspected Monty would agree.

    ¡°Exit¡¯s this way,¡± said Bruno. He pulled a lever that had been camouflaged to match the stone wall and revealed a cramped hallway. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want to be seen leaving, that¡¯d defeat the whole purpose.¡±

    The tunnel felt interminable on Jeremiah¡¯s mangled foot. They emerged well outside the city in a patch of arid and dusty land that looked like it had never seen a plant. Jeremiah¡¯s face was already swollen into an unrecognizable mess, so Bruno did not require they take any extreme measures to return to the safe house.

    Unfortunately, the non-extreme measures were still extensive, and by the time they made their way back to the apartment, Jeremiah was on the verge of collapse. As soon as they arrived, Bruno disappeared into the bedroom. Jeremiah thought it tactful to allow him space. He set the Giant¡¯s Bag on the floor and lay down beside it, letting anxiety and exhaustion quarrel over whether or not he should sleep.

    A rustling sound jerked him out of an uneasy slumber. The Giant¡¯s bag was opening.

    At once, Jeremiah was fully awake, on his feet¡ªwell, foot¡ªand helping Delilah as she crawled out, hand over hand, to collapse on the floor. She was panting, pale, and sweaty despite having stripped down to her smallclothes. Her hands were red and raw.

    ¡°Alive,¡± she gasped in answer to Jeremiah¡¯s unspoken question. ¡°She''s alive. I don''t know how. I swear, nothing can kill that woman. She''s the toughest thing I''ve ever seen.¡±

    The fear gripping Jeremiah¡¯s heart released and he sank to the floor. ¡°I can¡¯t¡­Thank you, Delilah. Thank you.¡± The words felt like empty offerings to the spent husk of a woman before him, but they were all he had.

    ¡°Welcome.¡± Delilah spoke to the ceiling, eyes half-lidded. ¡°How¡¯d you guys fare? Get the treasure?¡±

    ¡°We got the treasure,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°But we had to cut off Bruno¡¯s hand. It¡¯s okay now, though, we burned it shut.¡±

    Without looking away from the ceiling, Delilah closed her eyes and began to cry.

 Chapter 46. The Fever

    Chapter 46. The Fever

    One upside of everyone assuming Jeremiah was dead was that there was no particular rush to return Cassidy''s prize to Monty. Until he reappeared, he was just the latest cocksure thief to throw his life away in the name of avarice. In fact, he and his friends didn¡¯t even think about the treasure for a week as they focused their energy on recovering from the ordeal.

    Allison remained Delilah¡¯s top priority. It was several more days before Delilah let her be moved from the Giant¡¯s Bag to the apartment proper, where she continued to fuss over her like an anxious mother bird.

    At least Allison had stopped resisting treatment¡ªwhile she could remember only snatches of the dungeon leading up to her poisoning, even she was not stubborn enough to deny the tremors and shortness of breath that still lingered. Thus she submitted to Delilah¡¯s attentions and insistences with only minor complaints.

    Bruno was much less cooperative, especially when Delilah proposed he may have to lose more of his arm, depending on the state of things. It was only after she pointed out that putting off a proper exam could result in losing the entire limb or even death that he acquiesced, looking pointedly away as she removed the bandages and inspected the mutilated flesh beneath.

    ¡°How this didn¡¯t throw a clot and kill him I¡¯ll never know,¡± said Delilah.

    Her professional opinion was to cut away more of the arm and create a less complex injury, to which Bruno graciously and gently disagreed as loud as he could.

    Only after the others had been stabilized and Delilah herself took a day to rest did she turn her attention to Jeremiah. He did his best not to protest¡ªshe had no sympathy left to offer¡ªand bore the readjustments of his foot and nose as stoically as he could. It was a relief to be sent to bed with a healing tonic, where nothing would be asked of him for a few precious hours.

    Most of his dreams were lost in a feverish haze as he faded in and out of sleep, but one image kept finding its way back to the forefront of his mind. Jeremiah was collecting rocks on a mountain face, and piling them on one spot to build a cairn. The pile rose higher and higher, until he realized that all the rocks were skulls, and they began babbling ceaselessly, a thousand voices screaming, their words crawling into his ears like a swarm of bees and carrying away his brain, piece by piece.

    When he emerged again, it was morning. Bruno sat alone at the table, Allison and her guard uniform were gone, Delilah nowhere to be seen¡ªworking in the lab or, Jeremiah hoped, resting.

    Bruno greeted him with a nod and kicked out a chair. Jeremiah sat. He was grateful for the invitation, but words escaped him. He averted his gaze from Bruno dealing himself cards one-handed. It was all too surreal.

    The old chair creaked as Bruno leaned backwards, stretching and rolling his neck. When Jeremiah still kept his eyes fixed on the table, he said, ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to look at me eventually, you know. We live together.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a good point,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°I should probably move out.¡±

    ¡°Well, we¡¯ve got a lovely selection of farm holdings for you to choose from, picked fresh from the deathtrap dungeon. Fancy places too. Cost an arm and a leg.¡±

    Jeremiah smiled. ¡°Actually, my leg is feeling much better now.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Just an arm, then. Heck of a deal, if you ask me.¡±

    ¡°Sorry Bruno, you¡¯re just not that good a salesman.¡± Jeremiah finally forced his gaze from the table and took in his friend as he was. Bruno was studying him in his casual manner. His sleeve was pinned loosely over the stump. Jeremiah could still see those little signs of age he¡¯d first noticed in the dungeon, seeming ever so slightly more pronounced.

    ¡°Ah, bummer. I was thinking of going into real estate now that I¡¯m taking an early retirement from roguing. Not going to be much of a lockpicker now. Or trap disarmer.¡± Bruno tried riffling the deck and scattered cards all over the table and floor. ¡°Or card dealer, for that matter.¡±

    Jeremiah bent under the table to help pick up cards. ¡°I really am sorry, Bruno. I should never have let it happen.¡±

    Bruno smirked like he was going to crack a joke, then shook his head. ¡°Nah, you shouldn¡¯t have. But if you learn something from it, maybe it¡¯ll be worth it, you know? I¡¯d gladly trade the hand of a rogue past his prime for you to become the mage you¡¯re supposed to be.¡±

    Jeremiah nodded. ¡°I was so focused on taking responsibility for what I might do, I never considered my responsibility for what I don''t do. I won¡¯t make that mistake again.¡±

    ¡°Good. Frees you up to make some real mistakes. That¡¯s important too, you know.¡±

    ¡°¡®The mistakes of great men are just as great as their accomplishments,¡¯¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Colonel Valen told me that once.¡±

    ¡°Ignoring the fact that you just referred to yourself as a great man, and how loath I am to agree with Valen, he¡¯s right.¡± Bruno had gathered the deck and began to shuffle again. This time, the cards riffled into a neat stack, just as they were supposed to.

    ¡°Does it hurt?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°More than I can explain. And it''s itchy, that''s the worst part. I was ready for pain, but I didn¡¯t expect that.¡±

    Jeremiah watched Bruno¡¯s fingers practice their unfamiliar dance. ¡°Do you really think you¡¯re past your prime?¡±

    Bruno sighed. ¡°Every day, a little bit of sand gets put in my pockets, and I can''t take it out. I can fight it, I can rage against it, but I can''t stop it.¡± He flexed the fingers of his remaining hand. ¡°My body doesn¡¯t move quite as fast as I remember. And yeah, it¡¯s harder to see the markings on the cards than it used to be.¡±

    ¡°I get¡ªhey, that deck is marked?¡± Jeremiah lunged for it, but Bruno yanked them just out of reach. ¡°We played for money with those cards!¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Weren¡¯t we just talking about learning from our mistakes?¡± Bruno riffled the cards with one hand in the air, still beyond Jeremiah¡¯s grasp. ¡°Now you know never to play with someone else¡¯s deck, especially with a known cheat!¡±

    Jeremiah laughed as Bruno effortlessly held him off with one foot. It felt good to laugh, a glimpse of normalcy he hadn¡¯t even realized how badly he¡¯d needed. For a brief, healing moment, everything was going to be okay.

    Then the moment passed. Bruno¡¯s face grew serious again. ¡°Are you going to be ready to head back out soon? Things are getting bad out there. Allison reported there have been three more murders in the last week alone.¡±

    ¡°Shit,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Has Delilah had a chance to look over the paperwork? Anything there I shouldn¡¯t just give over to Monty?¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re okay with handing this guy the means of escape for himself, and maybe a good chunk of his gang, if he¡¯s the type to share. Do you think there¡¯s any risk he skips out on your deal and you never see him again?¡±

    Jeremiah considered what he knew about Monty. ¡°Not a chance.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s yours,¡± said Bruno. ¡°Delilah says the monetary value wouldn¡¯t help our situation nearly as much as getting you in with the cult. Are you ready to do this?¡±

    A thrill of fear ran down Jeremiah¡¯s spine. It all came down to this. The culmination of months of work and suffering was nearly at an end, one way or another. His friends, the empress, and the entire city were depending on him getting this right.

    Jeremiah took a deep breath and looked Bruno square in the eye. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±

    ?

    <hr>

    ?

    ¡°The key to a better life,¡± said Monty. ¡°That¡¯s what they all said, about the Gilded Vault. I guess I didn¡¯t imagine it would be so literal.¡±

    ¡°Cassidy was a fan of subverting expectations,¡± said Jeremiah. They were in Monty¡¯s office, reading by the light of that single candle, the claustrophobic darkness crowding them like a smothering fog.

    ¡°¡®Cassidy?¡¯ You¡¯re on a first name basis with him, huh?¡±

    Jeremiah chuckled. ¡°After what he put me through, I know him better than I know myself.¡±

    ¡°Allow me to offer you advice; if anyone asks, you never entered the vault. It¡¯s much easier to believe and you won¡¯t nearly be the target you would be otherwise,¡± said Monty.

    Monty read over the papers again. Jumping back and forth between particular pages, his brow furrowed with concentration. He began taking notes and touching his quill to certain words and letters.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to need to talk this over with some people, see how I can best use it to help the Stonefists¡­assuming I¡¯m not discovering a code.¡± More checks back and forth between pages, punctuated with curious grumbling.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see anything that looked like a code,¡± said Jeremiah. He meant Delilah, but he¡¯d still be surprised if she had missed something like that.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know the Cant, you wouldn¡¯t know how to look for it,¡± said Monty, trailing off again. He evaluated Jeremiah, as though seeing him for the first time. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, I was not expecting to hear from you again. You have proven yourself, more than I ever would have dreamed when I first laid eyes on you. You must know, there is freedom in what you¡¯ve handed me. You¡¯ve more than earned it for yourself, if you prefer.¡±

    Jeremiah nodded. ¡°I know, but let it be for those who don¡¯t have any other option. I do. Also, I have no interest in farming. Assuming your offer is still valid, of course?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Monty spoke in a low voice, nearly to himself. ¡°A mage that bested the Gilded Vault. That will get their attention, without a doubt.¡± Then to Jeremiah, ¡°It will take me the day to make contact and arrange the meeting, return here this evening and we will go there together. I advise you to take the time to ready yourself in any way you deem appropriate¡ªI know nothing of what happens past the moment of introduction. Be prepared for anything.¡±

    His words reminded Jeremiah of what Allison had said back in the dungeon. ¡° They¡¯re going to make you do something to prove your commitment. It won¡¯t be something you want to do. ¡± His fingers brushed the burlap parcel nestled deep in his pocket, and he nodded. ¡°I will be.¡±

    Jeremiah considered parading his victory over the Gilded Vault around the Stonefists and basking in glory, but soon realized nothing about it sounded appealing. In fact, imagining their laudations and excited questions when all he could feel was shame for letting Bruno down made him sick to his stomach, so he spent his time outside the Pit.

    He soon realized what Bruno had meant when he¡¯d said things were getting bad. Much of the rubble from the The Tragedy had been cleared, but the destruction remained¡ªhomes and shops were simply gone, and the people had nowhere to go. People of all races, classes, and ages huddled in alleys or wandered aimlessly. Even the fevered rush of traffic that had once been the lifeblood of the city had been thinned, becoming meandering and unfocused, except for the wagons that headed for the cemeteries, laden down with the dead.

    One thing that hadn¡¯t changed, though, was the malice underlying Elminia. If anything, it was worse. The loss of routine and basic security for so many people at once, the pain of bodily injury or the death of loved ones¡ªJeremiah could imagine a city where such an event would unify those remaining, let them come together and rebuild. But here, people seemed to grow even meaner.

    People gripped whatever they could and guarded it jealously. Temporary constructions on the ruins of buildings quickly became the targets of squabbles and violence until they collapsed. Jeremiah watched two women nearly kill each other over a scrap of bread, ceasing their fight only when one had been hobbled, left unable to fight or fend for herself. She was quickly robbed of what little remained in her pockets by others who had been watching the fight. The edges of The Pit seemed to be creeping further outward, swallowing those who previously had sure footing and safe distance.

    The cutthroat ambition of Elminia was alive as well. The remaining businesses jockeyed for position among themselves, charging a premium for whatever goods they managed to procure. Jeremiah could only imagine the furious scramble that had to be going on behind the scenes for newly-available property.

    The city guard seemed to have returned to business as usual, albeit with many more homeless to harass from the corners. When he thought about it, Jeremiah supposed it wasn¡¯t surprising that Empress Aubrianna was allowing the city to recover with so little oversight. He guessed she might describe it as a wildfire, burning through the overgrowth so that new life may thrive.

    Something was certainly thriving in the aftermath of The Tragedy. It was pulsing, reveling in the chaos, tightening its grip over Elminia. It was the same presence he¡¯d felt seeing the headless man suspended over the city, the same lingering dread, half-remembered from his dreams.

    Whatever it was, it was closer than it had ever been, an invisible predator stalking an entire populace. Jeremiah steeled himself to face it.

    He prayed he would be enough.

 Chapter 47. Blasphemy

    Chapter 47. Blasphemy

    The night was theirs, two more hooded figures going about their unseemly business in the shadows of the Pit, where the darkness only grew deeper.

    ¡°All I know is where to go and what to say,¡± said Monty. ¡°I don¡¯t know what we¡¯ll find there. I was instructed to bring someone ¡®exceptional,¡¯ and that if my companion was found lacking, there would be no second chance.¡±

    ¡°So you really think I¡¯m exceptional?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°I¡¯m betting my life on it,¡± said Monty. ¡°You have provided the Stonefists a remarkable service. I hope that what we are doing tonight will go a small ways towards repaying you.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Jeremiah. ¡°Will you be able to use those deeds and stuff?¡±

    ¡°Those ¡®deeds and stuff¡¯ are with the lawyers now. They belong to the Stonefists. Now, any Stonefist who wants it has land to work for honest pay. Not all will take that option, of course, but enough will.¡±

    Monty stopped short, halting Jeremiah with a hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and carefully considering his words. Jeremiah gave him the time. ¡°Look. The Stonefists are the only family I¡¯ve ever known. Raising them up, giving any of them a chance for a better life¡ªthat¡¯s everything I¡¯ve been working for. And then I find you, and you hand it to me on a plate. I might have thought I¡¯d begrudge you for making it look so easy, but I don¡¯t. I thank you, Jay, with every ounce of gratitude I can muster.¡±

    The outpouring of appreciation took Jeremiah by surprise. ¡°You¡¯re welcome. I¡¯m glad it¡¯ll go towards the cell members, they¡¯ll appreciate it more than me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t fault you for not grasping the whole of it. The Stonefists now have something to offer no one else can. We¡¯ll attract and retain the best talent, and the only way any other gang can compete is to offer something similar. I welcome them to do it.¡±

    Monty led them to a nondescript decrepit shack, of which there were thousands in the Pit. It sat dark, like all the others, seemingly abandoned, like all the others.

    But something about the shack was off. Looking at it bothered Jeremiah, in a way he couldn¡¯t describe. The sloppy angles, an architectural staple in the Pit, seemed intentional, like they existed to offend the sensible eye. It looked like something Jeremiah would see in a nightmare, plucked out and transplanted into the real world.

    ¡°I¡¯ve cased this place more than once,¡± said Monty, squinting at the face of the shack. ¡°I can¡¯t make sense of it. It¡¯s hard to remember, somehow.¡±

    ¡°You feel it too, then?¡± Jeremiah shivered. ¡°It¡¯s like it doesn¡¯t belong here.¡± He realized he¡¯d never come to this part of the Pit before. Even now, he felt an urge to turn and flee, call the whole thing off.

    ¡°There¡¯s another thing, too,¡± said Monty. He pointed at the ground. ¡°What do you see?¡±

    Jeremiah looked, frowning at the bare ground. There wasn¡¯t anything  to  see where Monty had pointed. Then he realized. ¡°There¡¯s no rats here. Anywhere.¡±

    Monty nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a living thing come here voluntarily. Once again, are you sure you want to do this?¡±

    No, Jeremiah wanted to say. No, and you¡¯re too good a man to be wrapped up in all this. Instead he said, ¡°I¡¯m sure. Let¡¯s do it.¡±

    ¡°Time to get this over with, then,¡± Monty said.

    Stepping over the threshold of the shack turned the air in their lungs rancid, as though something inside them had rotted. The walls were pocked and scaling, and the normally packed earthen floor was strangely damp and crusty. Jeremiah drew his dagger in anticipation of danger. Monty balled up his gargantuan fists.

    A stair led them downward, toward the faint glow of a lantern. Jeremiah did not expect light to improve the situation much. The deeper they went the more the building began to feel hostile, like the very beams of wood were infused with malice.

    Once as a child, Jeremiah caught a baby rabbit, upturned by the neighbor¡¯s dog. He still remembered how the rabbit¡¯s heart had felt against his palm, rapid and light, as though ready to take flight at any moment. His heart now hammered the same tattoo against his ribs as they descended deeper and deeper.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Finally they found the source of the glow¡ªa small oil lamp sat beside an immense bloated man, grotesquely swollen and nude. The man¡¯s skin was mottled and split with decay, his eyes were glassy, and his mouth contorted into a bloody harlequin grin.

    Jeremiah knew the man was dead, so he nearly jumped out of his skin when the corpse spoke. ¡°You¡¯ve come to feast!¡± The head jerked and twisted as it spoke.

    ¡°Steady,¡± Monty murmured to Jeremiah. ¡°I¡¯ve come and brought an exceptional specimen, as is required.¡±

    At first there was nothing, but then the corpse stirred. Something in the swollen gut twisted and writhed against the skin. Then a split appeared, ragged and puckered, running from the corpse¡¯s belly button down to its crotch and beyond. The corpse¡¯s gut surged, and a man¡¯s head pushed through the breach. The man was slick with congealing blood, and began wailing like an infant as he forced his way from the body. He was nude as well, a full grown adult, and he deposited himself to the dirty floor in a festering pool.

    Jeremiah¡¯s heart was pounding in his chest from the horror. ¡°Gods curse this place,¡± whispered Monty, backing away from the ghastly sight.

    The man, Jeremiah could see now an elf, ceased his childish wailing and placed a thumb in his mouth before standing up before them.

    ¡°Name yourselves,¡± he gurgled around his thumb.

    ¡°I am Monty, leader of The Pit Crew.¡±

    ¡°I am Jay, of Shabad.¡±

    ¡°I am Nascent,¡± said the elf, his voice was a high falsetto. ¡°We shall start with the dwarf. Boy, make yourself comfortable in the next room, the amenities are at your disposal. No peeking.¡±

    Jeremiah looked to Monty for confirmation. He was ready to fill this building with poison gas at a moment¡¯s notice.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright, go,¡± said Monty.

    Jeremiah left the room through a door indicated by Nascent. The next room was no different than the others, save for a figure bound on the floor. It was a humanoid shape, wrapped so tightly in black leather its gender or race couldn¡¯t be determined. Its arms were bound behind its back, and its knees against its chest. The face was covered, and Jeremiah had no idea how it could breathe.

    In front of the restrained form was an unrolled pack of butcher¡¯s tools. These were the amenities. Jeremiah grabbed a delicate looking filet knife and carefully sliced at the leather surrounding the forms face.

    ¡°Stay calm, I''ll get you out of here. I can-¡±

    ¡°Cut me!¡± The figure shouted. Jeremiah scrambled back in surprise as the bound form wriggled in excitement, only it''s mouth freed from the bindings. ¡°Cut me! Use me! Butcher me how you want! Ahahaha, I''m your little calf! Who wants my delicacies?¡±

    The figure''s tongue slid out of its mouth and flopped about like the feeler of a probing insect.

    Jeremiah felt his grip on calm sanity slipping, this was all too much. He covered his ears to the ramblings of the bound figure that continued to writhe as much as it could.

    ¡°Do I free this thing?¡± Thought Jeremiah, ¡°does it want to be freed? Does it know any better? What is this place? What''s happening?¡±

    He jumped at a tap on his shoulder. Monty was standing over him, scowling at the amenities. ¡°You¡¯re up. Keep it together,¡± said Monty.

    The only thing that stopped Jeremiah from running out of the room was the knowledge he¡¯d be running into one just as bad.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay to be scared,¡± said Allison, ¡°it¡¯s not okay to lose yourself in fear.¡±

    Jeremiah closed his eyes and stood up, slowly and calmly. He had a job to do.

    ¡°Come in, seeker of freedom,¡± said Nascent.

    Jeremiah found Nascent drinking from his water bowl, tipping it back over his face in a clumsy soppy manner. The biological muck that washed off of his face and neck revealed pruning and pale skin. Nascent had been inside that corpse for a long time.

    ¡°How did you find me?¡± Nascent asked directly.

    ¡°I followed Monty,¡± said Jeremiah. He didn¡¯t want to give out even a modicum of information more than was asked.

    ¡°Yes, yes, quite the boring dwarf. Do you know why he brought you, Jay of Shabad?¡±

    ¡°He said he needed someone exceptional,¡± said Jeremiah, his tone flat and business-like.

    Nascent put his thumb back into his mouth and toddled toward Jeremiah. It was an intentional mockery of walking, unsteady and with rapid tiny steps.

    Suddenly Nascent toppled forward. Jeremiah instinctively caught him, but shoved him away almost as fast. The brief contact had left a mucus-like film on Jeremiah¡¯s robes.

    ¡°Oops, I fall down!¡± said Nascent. He gigged and cooed at his own antics.

    ¡°Touch me again and I¡¯ll kill you,¡± said Jeremiah. Truthfully, he would just run, but he didn¡¯t want to be this thing¡¯s source of fun.

    Nascent popped the thumb out of his mouth and straightened, disappointed in not finding a receptive partner. ¡°What makes you deserving of true freedom? Why were you chosen as exceptional?¡± asked Nascent.

    ¡°I¡¯m a mage,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°an enchanter, to be specific.¡±

    ¡°Oooh, that is special,¡± said Nascent. He began crawling up the deflated torso of the corpse. ¡°We would be pleased to have you, yes we would. But all have to prove their sincerity.¡± Nascent reached up and pried open the mouth of the dead man. Something was glittering in the back of his throat. Nascent reached in and pulled out a long golden shiv. It looked like a gigantic sewing needle, as big as a dagger.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to ask me why I want to join? Or tell me about what it is you do?" This was moving too fast. He didn¡¯t want to know what a giant sewing needle was going to be used for.

    ¡°It matters not,¡± said Nascent, ¡°your desire to join is the only thing that matters. Your desire to taste freedom. If you sought to join, only because you wanted to destroy us all, you would be welcome.¡±

    ¡°Fancy that,¡± thought Jeremiah. No reason to affirm or deny anything.

    Nascent held out the needle toward Jeremiah. At first Jeremiah was afraid he was supposed to pierce himself with it, or let Nascent do it. But it was being offered, and Jeremiah took it.

    The needle was heavy, solid steel with a gold plating, and incredibly pointy.

    ¡°You must make us an offering,¡± said Nascent, ¡°only the truly exceptional may enter. All must come to us as a pair, but only one is ever admitted. You have until sunrise, no lollygagging, you must be sure.¡±

    Nascent curled up on the chest of the corpse, and took one of its distended breasts into his mouth. Jeremiah tried not to vomit as Nascent¡¯s throat worked noisily, and something went down his throat.

    ¡°You¡­want me to kill Monty?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°I want for nothing,¡± said Nascent, popping his mouth off the corpse. ¡°Simply bring me his head by morning. With his heart stuffed into his mouth if you please. Now, unless you¡¯d like to join me¡­¡± Nascent hefted the other breast, shaking it toward Jeremiah.

    Jeremiah gagged and spun out of the room, stowing the needle blade beneath his belt. He almost ran into Monty who was leaving the waiting room.

    ¡°We done here?¡± asked Monty.

    Jeremiah nodded. Over Monty¡¯s shoulder he could see the bound figure was still now, clearly dead. The knives had not been disturbed.

 Chapter 48. Easy

    Chapter 48. Easy

    His head. Bring the dwarf¡¯s head.

    The words echoed in Jeremiah¡¯s ears. Even the ashen tainted air of the Pit was crisp and fresh compared to the air inside that house of horrors, but Jeremiah was still back in that awful room, hearing those words again and again.

    ¡°Talk to him,¡±  whispered Delilah,  ¡°You can figure something out together.¡±

    ¡°Don''t be stupid,¡±  said Bruno,  ¡°You''d be giving away your only advantage. He''s not your friend, he''s likely going to kill you. Either he kills you and you don''t get into the cult, or you don''t kill him and you don''t get into the cult.¡±

    ¡°Come on,¡± said Monty. ¡°Let¡¯s get you out of here.¡± He gripped under Jeremiah¡¯s elbow and pulled him along, and Jeremiah realized he¡¯d barely been walking.

    ¡°What do you mean, get me out of here?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Whatever that was, it wasn¡¯t for you,¡± said Monty. ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me, it¡¯s written all over your face. So we¡¯re getting you out of here. Somewhere beyond their reach. You¡¯ve started a new life once, Jay of Shabad, get ready to do it again.¡±

    ¡°Wait, hang on.¡± Jeremiah pulled his arm free, ¡°We''re just walking away? After all Ive done youre telling me no?¡± Was this a trick? Maybe Monty had been given the reverse of the instruction Jeremiah received¡ªWas Monty going to lead him to some quiet shadow and strangle him?

    ¡°Jay, I¡¯m not stupid. I know you¡¯re not either. I know what they asked you to do.¡± Monty spoke matter-of-factly, as though discussing the weather. ¡°But you¡¯re not a killer, and whatever''s going on in there is beyond anything we need to be involved with. So we¡¯re getting you out of here.¡±

    ¡°Hang on,¡± said Jeremiah again. He stopped walking. ¡°What about you? You can¡¯t just walk away from everything, they¡¯ll come after you too.¡±

    ¡°I have no intention of leaving anything. Don¡¯t worry about me, I can protect myself more than well enough for their kind. But I can¡¯t protect you to the same degree, not while you¡¯re in Elminia. So if you would kindly stop dawdling, I¡¯m trying to save your life.¡±

    ¡°Lead the way,¡± muttered Jeremiah.

    He followed Monty out of the Pit. In the meantime, his mind raced. There had to be a way out of this. Maybe he could bring another head? There were plenty of bodies around these days, maybe any old dwarf would do¡ªit wasn¡¯t like the corpse in there had been taking a close look, right?

    If he told Monty what he needed, maybe Monty could help him think of something. But that would lose him the only advantage he had, which was that Monty assumed he wouldn¡¯t do it.

    ¡°Unless he''s about to do the same to you,¡±  said Bruno.

    His own thoughts felt like an angry swarm of insects, swirling and buzzing and overwhelming. A cold sweat beaded up on the back of his neck. He felt cold all over.

    They crested the lip of The Pit, moving from shadow to shadow. Monty moved more like a hunter in the dark than a sneaking thief.

    ¡°The world isn¡¯t going to miss one gangster,¡± said Bruno.

    ¡°He¡¯s not just a gangster, he¡¯s trying to protect me. He¡¯s trying to protect his family.¡±

    ¡°You knew you¡¯d have to do things you didn¡¯t want to do ,¡± said Allison. ¡°This is why I didn¡¯t want you out here.¡±

    ¡°But I am out here. I accepted the mission.¡±

    The mission. How important was the mission? Was it worth a good man¡¯s life? Was it worth a good man¡¯s blood on Jeremiah¡¯s hands?

    Was a single man¡¯s life worth throwing away everything? He and his friends flee Elminia, back to the conspiracy they left, only worsened in their absence? They abandon the empress and the city to whatever fate was threatening to swallow it whole?

    Was everything he¡¯d done until now a waste? Cutter, Gus, Allison and Bruno¡ªall that pain and suffering would just be thrown away because Jeremiah was too much of a coward to do the hard thing.

    ¡°You¡¯ll never be able to take this back,¡± said Delilah.

    He couldn¡¯t.

    He had to.

    ¡°Then take every advantage you can get,¡±  said Allison.

    ¡°You don''t owe anyone a fair fight,¡±  said Bruno.

    Jeremiah felt for the little burlap parcel. It was nestled snug in his pocket, waiting for him.

    ¡°It will make it easier,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°Is easier what you want?¡±  asked Delilah.

    ¡°Easier is what I need.¡±

    With trembling hands, Jeremiah unwrapped the piece of burlap. The oily wad shined in the moonlight.

    ¡°You chew?¡± Monty asked.

    Jeremiah nearly dropped the parcel. ¡°Uh, yeah. Sometimes.¡±

    ¡°Bad habit,¡± said Monty. ¡°Come this way, there¡¯s a getaway up ahead that will do nicely.¡±

    Jeremiah tucked the clump into his cheek. It tasted like a leather treatment chemical and rotting meat. He gagged and nearly spat it in the dirt. His mouth was bone dry, but he forced his jaw to work the vile wad, feeling the oily juices slip down his throat.

    Jeremiah¡¯s gums ached. The cold in his body began to drain away. He wasn''t feeling warmer exactly, just a lack of cold.

    ¡°Okay, that''s a good start,¡±  he thought,  ¡°I''m starting to feel less nervous. Now I can think more clearly.¡±

    ¡°Here,¡± said Monty. In an instant he was gone, slipped between the rotted beams of a collapsed house, a space just barely big enough to fit through.

    ¡°Remember¡­use¡­for,¡±  whispered Bruno as Jeremiah followed Monty into the dark. He was sure what Bruno had taught him would be useful here, but he was struggling to remember. It was becoming difficult to remember Bruno at all.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    The tunnel was pitch black. Monty lit a torch for Jeremiah¡¯s benefit. Jeremiah realized they were in one of the tunnels like he had taken to the palace when he¡¯d first arrived in Eliminia. It felt like several lifetimes ago. Had he been with anyone else during that visit? The detail seemed unimportant.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost there,¡± said Monty.

    Jeremiah followed dutifully. He realized he couldn¡¯t taste the clump of plant anymore. His mouth felt numb.

    ¡°He can''t¡­could¡­ask¡­,¡±  said someone¡¯s voice in his head. A strange, errant thought. Jeremiah shook it off.

    Jeremiah considered his options. A spell would take too long, be too obvious and would not guarantee a kill.

    ¡°Wait, hang on.¡±  The thought floated across his head, unanchored and unfamiliar. ¡° I¡¯m not ready to murder someone in cold blood!¡±

    Was that his own voice? It seemed very far away, strange and irrelevant.

    ¡°Keep a lookout here,¡± said Monty, ¡°I¡¯m going to check ahead.¡±

    There was another dagger, he realized, the magic one. That would make all of this even easier. All he had to do was choose a target.

    The lungs? No, a mortal wound was too difficult and slow. He didn¡¯t want Monty to be able to react.

    The brain? Dwarven vertebrae were particularly thick and durable. The possibility for an instant kill was there, but that was a tiny target. A miss would mean a flesh wound at best.

    ¡°We''re clear, come on,¡± said the old dwarf. Jeremiah followed.

    That left the heart. Dwarven hearts were more centrally located compared to human hearts, and buried in muscle from the front. But from behind and below there was very little protection.

    ¡°Just a few more blocks,¡± the dwarf was saying. ¡°The last minute passenger will be expensive, but¡­¡± he trailed off as he looked at Jeremiah.

    ¡°Hm?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°You alright?¡± asked the dwarf. ¡°You look¡­calm.¡±

    ¡°I feel calm,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°Surprisingly so.¡±

    ¡°I see. Better than panicked, I suppose. Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll have you safely on your way soon.

    ¡°Okay,¡± said Jeremiah.

    The old dwarf continued to talk as it walked. Talking was good. The words were irrelevant, but talking meant distracted.

    Jeremiah leaned back, eyeing his target¡¯s back, visualizing the vulnerable paths to his beating heart. He needed to start the blade low and thrust it upwards to go under the ribs.

    ¡°I¡­how¡­stop!¡±  That voice again. It wasn¡¯t helpful now, so Jeremiah ignored it.

    The target was still talking. It turned and put a hand on Jeremiah''s shoulder. It seemed to be expecting some sort of response, so Jeremiah nodded, once, the target turned its back again.

    Jeremiah shuffled, masking the drawing of his dagger. He thrust the weapon into the target¡¯s body, just as he¡¯d planned. Yes, that was correct. He¡¯d pierced the heart, the blood told him as much. Fortunate that the target wore no armor. Now was it a twist? No, that¡¯d be needed for a normal blade, but for a magic one he could just wrench. There we go.

    There was a rapid series of impacts as something slammed back into Jeremiah''s stomach, but the flexible armor beneath his robes protected him.

    Now where was that connection point? He really wanted to make sure the heart was fully disconnected. Upper left should be-no, this is from behind, it¡¯s mirrored. Ah yes, the dwarven aorta branches off the right first, unlike the human aorta which goes down.

    That should do. The target toppled, and Jeremiah withdrew the blade. He flipped it onto its back, and it smiled at him for some reason. The target placed one of its massive hands on Jeremiah¡¯s cheek and said something soft, nearly inaudible. But words didn''t matter. What mattered was that it could still reach him with those huge, dangerous hands. It was still a threat.

    Jeremiah slashed the target¡¯s throat open, and winced as the blood stung his eyes.

    ¡°No¡­¡±  said a voice in his head. He had no idea whose, nor did he care.

    ¡°Onto the hard part,¡± he said.

    Even with a magic dagger it was grueling work. The target¡¯s musculature was dense, and a dagger was a poor tool for the job. But eventually, the head came free. He set it aside to drain.

    ¡°Oh darn, I don''t have a bag.¡± Jeremiah sighed. What a pain.

    Fortunately, a sack of refuse was always within easy reach. He decided not to empty it, the objects within would help absorb any leaking blood.

    As he stuffed the head into the bag, he felt movement in his robes. The frog that lived in his pocket was trembling.

    ¡°Is there a problem?¡± he asked, then smiled at his own foolishness. Frogs couldn''t talk. If it became too bothersome, he''d just leave it somewhere.

    ¡°You¡­won''t ever¡­time,¡±  said someone.

    He retraced his steps, leaving the corpse where it lay. It no longer mattered. All things considered he had completed his task in good time. A bit messy, sure, but alas it was messy work.

    Jeremiah enjoyed the night air as he walked back in the direction they had come, bag slung over his shoulder. But he began to feel off as he walked. He couldn¡¯t put his finger on it. Something niggled at him.

    He checked the bag, worried he¡¯d forgotten something. But no, the head was still in there.

    The head.

    That bothersome feeling him gnawed at him, growing worse as he walked.

    ¡°Did that¡­how could I¡­how,¡±  thought Jeremiah.

    He was starting to feel cold. He shivered, rubbing his arms as he walked. and he was starting to shake again. He became aware of something in his mouth, and spit out a dried up wad of plant matter. What had that been for again?

    ¡°To make things easier,¡±  came the answer.

    Things? What things? Had he done something bad? He did what needed doing, wasn¡¯t that right? There was an important job to be done, and he had done it. He wished Bruno were here, Bruno would understand. Or maybe Allison, she might too. Delilah¡­no, she wouldn¡¯t.

    Deilah. He could hear her now. ¡°Your hands were tied? You had no other option? Think now, there was nothing you could do?¡±

    Jeremiah took a minute to rest on a darkened stoop. He should keep going, it wasn¡¯t safe to just hang about. But he just needed to sit down, at least until he stopped shaking.

    His breathing was starting to speed up, his heart was pounding.

    ¡°Oh no,¡±  he thought.  ¡°Oh shit, oh shit. What did I¡­did I?¡±

    The bag. There was something in the bag, something bad. It was like he was holding something he had plucked from a dream, the details of its origin hazy and indistinct. With growing dread, he lifted the flap and looked inside.

    The blue-flecked green of Monty¡¯s eyes staring back at him, the light long since gone. Jeremiah gasped and closed the bag.

    ¡°I killed him,¡± he said. ¡°Oh gods, I killed him.¡±

    But the words didn¡¯t feel real. The memory was fuzzy, distant, like a story he had heard from someone else.

    ¡°The drug made it easier,¡±  he thought,  ¡°just like she said.¡±

    He waited for the impact of his actions to crush him. He wanted to throw up, or scream, or cry, or anything. But it never came. It was too distant, the association was too weak to hit him the way it should. The way Monty deserved.

    ¡°Buddy? Are you okay?¡± he asked Gus, peering into his pocket. Gus was curled up tiny, but reached out just a little to snap at Jeremiah¡¯s finger, before curling back up. ¡°I¡¯m sorry buddy. I did a real bad thing.¡±

    He waited again for the impact, but again there was only that terrible absence.

    He had to get home. His friends would know how to help. He grabbed the bag and started to walk, then stopped.

    ¡°Help do what?¡±  he thought.  ¡°They can¡¯t unkill him. It¡¯ll be dawn soon. I have to get back, or everything will be wasted. I did exactly what I was supposed to do. I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m scared of. Shit, I killed him. I cut his whole fucking head off! He said something, and I didn¡¯t even care what. I didn¡¯t care about anything.¡±

    Jeremiah turned toward the Pit and kept walking. He tried to ignore the dreadful weight in his bag, bouncing against him with every step.

 Chapter 49. Descent

    Chapter 49. Descent

    Jeremiah returned to that nightmarish shack without thought for Monty, the mission, or anything at all. His feet carried him while he tried desperately to think of anything else at all.

    His thoughts kept returning to home¡ªhis first home, where he¡¯d grown up. There had been a creek near there that the local boys swam in every summer. After the rains, it would swell, the waters rising and rushing past in a dizzying current. The other boys, tanned and strong from their work on the farms, would goad each other into swimming across at ever wider, more dangerous points, daring one another to stare death in the face and emerge victorious.

    Jeremiah¡¯s family worked no land. His hands were soft and uncalloused, more accustomed to holding garments and books than the sturdy tools of his peers. As the boys jeered at each other to test their mettle, the taunts were never directed towards Jeremiah.

    But one day, the pain of being overlooked had grown more cutting than his fear. The waters were high and terrifying, sweeping debris past the banks faster than the boys had ever seen. Their whooping and hollering bravado barely concealed the dread of the scene. They jostled one another and joked, but even the older boys didn¡¯t dare shove anyone in today, as they sometimes did.

    Jeremiah, among them but not with them, had felt that familiar ache growing in his chest for so long now. And as the boys turned away from the creek to head home, the ache flared into desperation¡ªto be noticed, to belong. To matter.

    Much like during his walk back to the Pit his legs had carried him to that shoreline before his brain could comprehend it. His knees flexed and launched him above towards those dark, rushing waters, flinging his body as far as possible towards that distant shore.

    As he flew, he¡¯d felt elated, free¡ªunbound by being different, weaker, more afraid. It was a moment of unbridled joy that seemed to stretch to the horizons.

    Then he hit the water. Cold and shocking, his boots became weights in an instant, and the current seized him, even stronger than it had looked. Water washed over his head even as he clawed for the sky. Invisible masses collided with him and forced him down or spun him dizzy.

    Jeremiah had time to realize that he was about to die, even if his body refused to accept it. He flailed and kicked away those treacherous boots and was swept downstream anyway, at the mercy of the creek. His bids for air were awash with lungfuls of water as waves crashed over him again and again.

    And then he was being dragged. Someone hauled him up onto the shore and struck his back until he coughed up water. A cheer went up, and the boys thronged around Jeremiah¡¯s rescuer, a broad-shouldered boy with sandy hair. They thumped him on the back, adulation mixed with banter, and Jeremiah was left on the ground, coughing and drawing ragged breath, while they celebrated their hero.

    Why was he thinking of this now? Jeremiah¡¯s bag thudded against his legs as he descended the stairs of the shack. Thud. Thud. Thud. He had wanted to be a hero, to be someone who mattered, and he¡¯d learned what that cost. Thud. Thud. Thud. Then he¡¯d tried to put that childish dream behind him, and that had cost him too.

    What now? What would young Jeremiah have thought of him now, descending now towards the horrors that awaited with the blood of a good man on his hands? What did he think of himself now?

    ¡° You did what you had to do ,¡± said Allison.

    ¡° There¡¯s always another way ,¡± said Delilah.

    Jeremiah arrived before the corpse. It regarded him with the same unseeing eyes. He reached into the bag, his fingers falling on the tacky wet clump of hair that was Monty¡¯s blood soaked beard. The breath left his lungs as he felt the weight of the head in his hand. He presented it to the corpse, looking away as he did so. He couldn¡¯t risk glimpsing Monty¡¯s empty, accusing gaze.

    Nascent slithered out from his rotten cocoon again, ¡°Have you brought what I asked for?¡± he hissed.

    ¡°I think so,¡± mumbled Jeremiah. The entire walk back to this house of horrors had been in a daze. He was trying to come to terms with what he had done, but it was like trying to take responsibility for the actions of something nonsensical you did in your dreams.

    There was horror, but it was a vague and distant horror.

    ¡°Show me,¡± said Nascent.

    Jeremiah reached into the bag without looking, hoping that maybe his hands would close on nothing. But they found the tacky wet clump of hair that was Monty¡¯s blood soaked beard. The contact made it real, and the breath left his lungs as he felt the weight of the head when he pulled it out of the bag.

    He looked away, he couldn¡¯t fathom the risk of seeing Monty¡¯s yes looking back at him. Accusing him of being a murderer, maybe even a kin slayer, according to Monty. They were a family, after all.

    ¡°And the heart?¡± said Nascent.

    ¡°In the bag,¡± said Jeremiah. He gagged, remembering something thick and vague.

    ¡°I requested it be in the dwarf¡¯s mouth,¡± said Nascent. He was drawing closer to Jeremiah, smiling.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got the heart, isn¡¯t that enough!?¡± Jeremiah barked at him.

    ¡°No,¡± said Nascent, ¡°put it in his mouth.¡±

    There was no going back. Nascent held all the cards, and was going to pay them one by one. Jeremiah set Monty¡¯s head down on the ground and crouched beside it, still not looking.

    ¡°Please, just let this end,¡± he thought.

    He had handled hearts before, and heads. Hundreds even. All part of Fusoh¡¯s processing. But these were his. He knew this heart, and he knew this head.

    He fished around in the bag for the heart, and had to peel it away from the burlap lining. He had almost retrieved it when it jumped in his hands, one last errant pulse. It had performed hundreds of thousands in its living days, why not one more?

    Jeremiah gasped in shock as the heart pumped once in his hand, jumping back into the bag and squirting cooling blood between his fingers.

    ¡°Freshhhh,¡± hissed Nascent with satisfaction.

    Again, Jeremiah pulled it out. Luckily, that one thump was all it had left. A final bit of revenge from Monty.

    ¡°See?¡± said Jeremiah, holding it out for Nascent to inspect. It was heavy, very heavy. Dwarf hearts were huge compared to human hearts, and had an entire extra fifth chamber ha Jeremiah had never been able to determine the purpose of.

    ¡°The mouth!¡± Nascent hissed, ¡°In the mouth!¡± he was quivering with excitement, and had started running his hands over his nude body.

    Jeremiah stifled a sob. This was sadism, pure twisted sadism. But he had to.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to,¡± said Delilah, ¡°there¡¯s always another way.¡±

    ¡°Except sometimes there isn¡¯t,¡± said Bruno and Allison.

    Jeremiah was forced to look at Monty¡¯s face. He had been so dignified in life, so self assured and strong. Now his face was slack and pale. The tension, having completely left him, made his face appear soft and melting. Rigor mortis would set in soon, but for now the head was still fresh enough to be limp. There were scraps of discarded vegetable peelings on his face, brown rot wiping off on his beard and nose.

    ¡°You were a liar,¡± whispered Monty, ¡°I knew it all along. You pleaded and begged and manipulated me. Just to stab me in the back. I wanted to keep my people safe. That included you.¡±

    ¡°Shut up,¡± thought Jeremiah, ¡°you would have done the same to me.¡±

    ¡°At least you¡¯ll still have money,¡± said Monty mockingy, ¡°At least you won¡¯t be poor. What a tragedy that would be.¡±

    Jeremiah opened Monty¡¯s slack jaw with two trembling fingers. The teeth came apart with a sucking sound. He picked up the heart and placed it against Monty¡¯s lips like a red apple.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t fit,¡± Jeremiah whispered to Nascent.

    ¡°Make it fit!¡± Nascent squealed at him. Nascent was beside himself with anticipation.

    Jeremiah held his breath and pushed, cinching his eyes shut. There were cracks, there were pops, the heart compressed and oozed out captive blood.

    ¡°Yes, yesssss,¡± hissed Nascent eagerly.

    Something gave, something split, and Jeremiah¡¯s hand came into contact with Monty¡¯s mouth. It was done. He held up Monty¡¯s head, now just a bit heavier, for Nascent to inspect.

    ¡°Perfect, that was perfect Jay of Shabad,¡± sighed Nascent. His ecstatic quivering had become a languid calmness.

    ¡°Am I done?¡± asked Jeremiah. He was dizzy, so many horrific sensations were playing out in his mind and hands over and over again.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Yes Jay, you are done,¡± said Nascent, ¡°you are worthy of true freedom. We are all too pleased to have you. Our leader will receive you, a most auspicious honor.¡±

    With surprising ease, Nascent rolled the humongous corpse onto its side. It sloshed over like a sack of water, revealing a stairway beneath that led down into darkness.

    ¡°Descend Jay of Shabad,¡± said Nascent, ¡°descend and discover your birthright.¡±

    Nascent took Monty¡¯s head from Jeremiah, and Jeremiah began to descend the stairs.

    Jeremiah had traveled fewer than a dozen steps before the light above him was blotted out, plunging him into darkness. Nascent must have rolled the body back over the opening. Jeremiah kept a hand on both walls and felt each step carefully before committing his weight. It was slow going, leaving Jeremiah far too much time with his own thoughts.

    ¡° Not even the dignity of a burial, ¡± said Monty. ¡° Leaving me with that freak .¡±

    ¡°Sorry, boss.¡±

    ¡°You murdered Monty because a sadist told you to,¡±  said Delilah.  ¡°Because you¡¯re on some sort of mission. Who are you, Jeremiah Thorn? What else are you capable of?¡±

    He was terrified of himself. He was terrified of how easy it was to convince himself what he did was necessary.

    The air in the stairwell grew chilled and damp.

    Flashes of the murder came to him. They remained murky and indistinct, but insistent, as though some part of him was desperate to cling to the scraps. His mind filled Monty¡¯s last words with limitless possibilities¡ªin some renditions, Monty forgave him, or was proud of him, in others he cursed him, promised he¡¯d have revenge in hell.

    Selfishly, Jeremiah found himself wishing the old dwarf were with him. Monty¡¯s presence had been so reassuring, in its way. He wondered what would happen to the Stonefists now. Was there a succession plan? With a start, Jeremiah realized, that was probably meant to be him. Did anybody else know about Cassidy¡¯s treasure? What would happen to Sweet Melissa, Dronkal, and Shugga?

    ¡° I would have taken care of you, too ,¡± said Monty. ¡° We could have figured it out together .¡±

    ¡° You couldn¡¯t risk it ,¡± said Allison. ¡° You did what you had to do .¡±

    He¡¯d tried to fight back, Jeremiah remembered. Monty had understood Jeremiah¡¯s betrayal in an instant and tried to defend himself. Probably would have succeeded if not for the hidden armor, one more secret kept from the man who was laying down his life to project Jeremiah.

    ¡° Stay focused ,¡± said Bruno. ¡° You¡¯re almost there. ¡±

    But that was impossible. Jeremiah hurried down the pitch-black stairs, faster and faster. Monty giving him power over Cutter. Monty apologizing for Delilah. Monty begging him not to throw away his life in the Golden Vault. Monty telling him something, something Jeremiah would never hear, with his last breath in this world.

    Jeremiah¡¯s foot slipped. He lurched forward and the dark and threw his arms out to catch himself. His palms slammed into the walls on either side, and he held there, half-suspended over empty air. His breathing was ragged, his mouth dry.

    He missed his friends. He missed his cell mates. He missed Monty. Allison had been right, he never should have been out here. He never should have leaped from the shore, unheeding of the tumultuous waters below.

    But he had, and this time nobody was here to pull him out. With shaky breaths, he pushed himself backwards, finding the stone steps with his feet. He took one more step. And one more. One more. Just keep going.

    After an age in darkness, an almost imperceptible brightening began to appear. With each step, Jeremiah became more sure of it, until finally the final landing of the staircase came into view.

    A lantern hung beside a simple iron door. Folded neatly on a stool was a dark red robe, and atop it rested a beautifully carved ivory and gilded gold mask. The mask showed a blank face with only two slots for eyes. It was pristine, as if it had been newly created just for him.

    Jeremiah understood the request. He donned the robe over his clothes, and feeling lost in the billowing fabric. It was unadorned, but of good quality. He slipped the mask over his face and buckled the sturdy leather strap behind his head. Then he turned to the door.

    He smelled the rust, felt the cold, unyielding metal beneath his palm. On the other side of this door was whatever it was that Monty had died for. He touched the door ring. It was strangely warm. He pulled, and the door screeched on its hinges.

    Light flooded into Jeremiah¡¯s world, blinding him. He squinted, and just made out a robed figure waiting on the other side.

    This figure wore the same robes, but his mask was decorated with a mother of pearl luster and a circle of sapphires on the forehead. The figure was slightly smaller than Jeremiah, just as lost in the robes as Jeremiah felt. It stepped forward without hesitation, and threw its arms around Jeremiah in a tight hug.

    ¡°You did it,¡± said the figure, a male''s voice, ¡°you made it. It''s all over now. You can finally be free.¡± He emphasized the last word with a tightening of the hug.

    Jeremiah indulged his feelings of abject isolation and nerve breaking stress by wrapping the man up in his own hug, squeezing just as tight. It felt good. For a moment he forgot all the horror and fully embraced the lie.

    ¡°I know, friend, I know,¡± said the man. He rubbed Jeremiah''s back affectionately. ¡°You''ve been through a lot to get here.¡±

    The embrace was everything Jeremiah¡¯s body longed for. The isolation, the horror, for just a moment it was blotted out by the kind gesture of another. Tears leapt to his eyes. He leaned into the hug, feeling weakness flood his body as the stranger supported his weight.

    Jeremiah would have liked to stay in that moment for the rest of his life, to never again need to think about what had gotten him there or face whatever fresh hardship awaited. To let his worries fade into obscurity while someone cared for him.

    But he still had work to do.

    Jeremiah released the embrace and the stranger let him step away. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°Not at all, friend, not at all. We all understand the pain of shedding our old lives for a better one. Not to mention you came to us via Nascent, not easy.¡± His voice was gregarious and charming.

    ¡°You can call me Lyle,¡± said the man. I know your name is Jay, but if you''d prefer to be called anything else, just let me know.¡±

    ¡°Jay is fine,¡± said Jeremiah. This man was, somehow, stranger than anything else thus far. ¡°You¡¯re the leader here?¡±

    The man shrugged, ¡°I like to think of myself as a guide. But, if there were anything like a true leader here, I suppose it would be me. But come on in, there''s lots to show you.¡±

    Lyle brought Jeremiah to the next door, turned and began fussing with Jeremiah¡¯s robes, straightening and smoothing out rumples. It was strangely similar to something he had seen Delilah do before.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a sense of propriety,¡± thought Jeremiah, ¡°or experience and concern with refinement.¡±

    ¡°Look at him, it¡¯s natural,¡± said Delilah, ¡°He comes from my circles.¡±

    ¡°Now don¡¯t be nervous,¡± said Lyle, ¡°it¡¯s going to be a lot to take in, but I promise most everyone here is very friendly, if not private.¡±

    The primping complete, Lyle put his hand on the door, ¡°Ready?¡± he asked. Jeremiah could hear the anticipation and delight in his voice.

    ¡°Ready,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Welcome home, Jay,¡± said Lyle, and threw the door open.

    Jeremiah took in his surroundings. They stood in a subterranean city, similar to the one he had passed through with Monty and his cell mates, but this one was obviously lived in. Great crystal lights, set to glow by magic, adorned huge stone columns. Ancient buildings of crumbling stone had been fitted with warm, homey tapestries. Rather than the cramped ruins of the city Jeremiah had seen, this place enjoyed wide, expansive spaces. He could see other robed figures moving about.

    ¡°We must be beneath the second city,¡±  he thought,  ¡°The place nobody goes because it¡¯s overrun by kobolds. Well, I don¡¯t see any kobolds around here.¡±

    He started forward, and nearly fell. Lyle caught him, a supportive arm under his elbow. His legs were trembling, he realized. In fact, his entire body felt on the verge of collapse.

    Lyle pulled him back to upright. ¡°Yeah, those stairs are awful. May I make an offer? There¡¯s a lovely little inn nearby. Very nice. I¡¯ll cover your stay. We can save your orientation for tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Orientation?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    Lyle laughed with genuine amusement. ¡°I really don''t know what else to call it. Initiation sounds far too dire. I just want to give you the tour, help you find your feet. But I suspect I will find you a far more attentive audience if I allow you some time to rest first. You¡¯ve been through a lot today.¡±

    ¡°That¡­would be nice,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°I insist even,¡± said Lyle, his voice as soothing as aloe. ¡°Take some time to rest. The whole world will be here waiting for you when you get back.¡±

    The inn was indeed what passed for lovely down here, the crumbling walls updated with fresh plaster and new wood doors. Jeremiah¡¯s room featured heavy curtains over the windows, three locks on the door, and a rug.

    Jeremiah dropped onto the bed. ¡°We¡¯re okay, buddy. We¡¯re okay.¡± Details of the murder drifted across his mind, sometimes in sharp focus, sometimes barely recognizable. Gus didn¡¯t respond. Tears threatened again, then nausea, but mostly he was overwhelmingly exhausted.

    ¡°We¡¯re okay.¡±

    Somewhere between blinks, he fell asleep.

 Chapter 50. Orientation

    Chapter 50. Orientation

    Jeremiah had no idea how long he slept. Underground, there was no clear indication of the passing of time. It took him a moment to remember where he was, and why everything was bathed in a soft blue ambient light.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost through this,¡± he whispered to Gus. ¡°Just some recon, get the lay of the land, learn what we can. Then we can head home and this whole thing can be someone else¡¯s problem.¡± Gus gave him a weary chirp.

    The murder threatened to push its way back into his thoughts, but Jeremiah closed his mind to it. It was done, and he had to live with that for the rest of this life¡ªno point agonizing over it now, when there was so much still at stake.

    ¡° Atta boy ,¡± said Allison. ¡° Get the job done and come on home .¡±

    Jeremiah left his room and headed downstairs. Lyle was speaking with the innkeeper, and somehow conveyed delight through his mask as Jeremiah entered the room.

    ¡°Jay! Wonderful to see you, did you rest well? So glad to hear it. Come, let me show you around. There¡¯s a wonderful caf¨¦ just this way, you must be famished.¡± He ushered Jeremiah out of the inn with a gentle guiding arm.

    ¡°Now don¡¯t be nervous,¡± said Lyle, ¡°it¡¯s going to be a lot to take in, but I promise most everyone in the flock is very friendly.¡±

    A passerby waved to Lyle, and he returned the greeting. ¡°First things first¡ªrobes are optional, masks are not. We don¡¯t really have  rules  here per se, in fact that¡¯s kind of the whole point of this place, but the masks are for everyone¡¯s mutual protection and safety. We won¡¯t force you to wear it of course, but don¡¯t be surprised if you get¡­er¡­reprimanded for going without one.¡±

    They passed a handful of individuals who had eschewed robes for typical clothing, and a group who walked completely nude together, save for their masks.

    Lyle led Jeremiah down the magically illuminated streets, stopping only to offer greetings when someone acknowledged him. Jeremiah could see that once it became clear he was performing an orientation, the others let him be.

    ¡°The main point of our little community is freedom,¡± said Lyle. ¡°You¡¯ll find no guards down here, only the law you can enforce yourself. Anything you want to do, you can.¡±

    As they passed one building, Jeremiah heard a chorus of passionate moans and gasps coming from inside. No, more than a chorus¡ªit was a swarm.

    ¡°So when you say I can do anything¡­¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Anything!¡± exclaimed Lyle, gesturing emphatically. ¡°This is the last great bastion of true freedom. I want you to shake off that feeling of looking over your shoulder you had topside. It¡¯ll take time, I know. But down here, you are well and truly free.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that dangerous?¡± asked Jeremiah. He imagined a serial killer would have quite the time down here.

    ¡°It can be, but no more dangerous than topside, really. I ask you, how many crimes do guards truly prevent? More likely they just harass honest men. The  law  is just an illusion of security. Down here, we¡¯ve stripped away the illusion. Down here there is true equality in¡ªno, wait,¡± Lyle held up his hands. ¡°I promised I was going to stop proselytizing to new people. I get too excited and can¡¯t stop myself. That caf¨¦ is right this way.¡±

    They sat down together at a small table outside a small caf¨¦ that would have looked at home on the streets far above. Jeremiah poked a small flower decorating a window box. ¡°I thought this whole area had been overrun by kobolds.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. It was, until we took it over and put up some barriers. I recommend you stay away from any small holes in the perimeter walls. The kobolds don¡¯t venture here much anymore, but anything outside of our territory is theirs. We¡¯ll show you all the safe ways in and out, don¡¯t worry.¡± He waved a hand and a small figure arrived with a pair of coffees.

    ¡°Hey, Lyle,¡± said the young woman carrying a pair of coffees. She wore durable work wear and a mask was decorated with painted orange flames curling around the eyes.

    ¡°Hello, Madella,¡± said Lyle. They leaned in and tapped their masks together in a facsimile of a cheek kiss. ¡°How''s the roast today?¡±

    ¡°Well enough, not sure I let the beans breathe as long as I should have though. Give a test?¡± asked Madella.

    Lyle tipped his mask back to slip the cup underneath.

    ¡°Male, shaved, no scars, strong chin.¡±  Jeremiah noted what features he could see in that brief moment.

    ¡°Hm,¡± said Lyle. ¡°Touch bitter.¡±

    ¡°¡®Fraid of that,¡± said Madella. ¡°By the way, I could use some new copper piping for the stills. You know someone for that?¡±

    ¡°I do, but we can talk later. I''m working right now.¡± Lyle nodded towards Jeremiah.

    ¡°Oh!¡± Madella turned towards Jeremiah. ¡°So sorry, I didn''t even notice. Welcome!¡± Jeremiah could hear the smile in her voice.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Jeremiah. The presence of something as mundane as a caf¨¦ down here was distressing.

    ¡°He got the new guy blues?¡± Madella asked, eyeing Jeremiah. ¡°Who''d he come down with?¡±

    ¡°Nascent, I believe,¡± said Lyle.

    ¡°Oof,¡± said Madella, recoiling at the name. She rested a hand on Jeremiah''s shoulder. ¡°You''re here now, hun. I promise it¡¯s worth it! Come by and see us anytime, till you find your feet.¡±  With a comforting squeeze, she left them to their coffee.

    ¡°Ah, another tip for you. Make friends! People down here have a lot of proclivities. Some stranger than others, but we all have them. So we generally are willing to help each other fulfill those desires, and are helped in turn. It¡¯s never too early to network Jay, networking is very important down here. Don¡¯t be afraid to just say ¡®hi¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Do you know a guy who calls himself Ol¡¯ Pete?¡± Jeremiah asked.

    Lyle almost spat his coffee. ¡°Yes, I''m sorry to say. That vulture had been orbiting us for a while, trying to circumvent the proper channels. If you, or any of your friends, happen to kill him, I will consider it a personal favor. One I will pay back  in spades .¡±

    ¡°That bad, huh?¡±

    ¡°I used to try and keep tabs on who owes him what, but it''s impossible. By the way, you don¡¯t get to admit anyone. We have people for that. You can point them in the right direction, but discovering us for yourself is part of the journey. And the test.¡±

    ¡°And the test¡­¡± Jeremiah''s head dropped to his chest as a wave of emotion washed over him. He¡¯d killed Monty in cold blood, stabbed him when his back was turned. Snuffed out his life with a few quick strokes.

    ¡° Steady ,¡± said Allison.

    Lyle reached across the table and put a hand on Jeremiah¡¯s. ¡°You did what you had to do to get here. You earned your freedom. Same as anyone else down here. You''re not alone.¡±

    Jeremiah could barely hear him. Those fragments rushed back, flashing before him. ¡°He didn''t see it coming. He trusted me.¡±

    ¡°Hey, look at me, Jay.¡± Lyle lifted Jeremiah¡¯s chin. ¡°You did what you had to do. That''s all there is to it. It''s harder for some of us than for others, but it¡¯s what brings us together. You¡¯re free now.¡±

    ¡°Keep it together Jay, there''s still work to be done,¡± said Allison.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°You didn''t have to-¡± started Delilah.

    ¡°Later,¡± insisted Allison.

    ¡°But I-¡± thought Jeremiah.

    ¡°Later!¡± said Allison, ¡°we mourn the losses later. Losses of comrades or losses of ourselves. We mourn later. Keep fighting, soldier.¡±

    Gradually, the wave receded. ¡°I¡¯m alright.¡± He took some deep breaths. ¡°I¡¯m alright.¡±

    ¡°You will be,¡± said Lyle. ¡°Drink some coffee, you¡¯ll feel better.¡±

    Jeremiah sipped his coffee. The heat helped center him. ¡°You¡¯re talking about ultimate freedom. So I could just, for example, up and kill Madella, and no one would stop me?¡±

    Lyle nodded. ¡°If that were your desire, by all means. Of course, someone might stop you. She might stop you. You might get killed for it after the fact, in fact with Madella I guarantee it. But you have the freedom to do whatever you like, and the people around you, in turn, have it as well.¡±

    ¡°How is that different from topside?¡±

    ¡°Excellent question!¡± Lyle¡¯s eyes weren¡¯t visible behind his mask, but Jeremiah imagined they were shining with excitement. ¡°Have you ever found yourself powerless before those who were simply born richer, or stronger, or luckier than you?¡±

    Jeremiah thought of the countless people rushing past him, too disinterested to toss him a copper so he could eat. He thought of the long march from sleeping spot to sleeping spot, always moving for the sake of keeping the guard¡¯s boots out of his ribs. He thought of his fate being handed down by a court who had already decided he was to be enslaved. ¡°Yeah, I have.¡±

    Lyle¡¯s voice softened. ¡°Topside, you are bound by unjust laws, by societal taboos whose purpose is to control you. People are thrust into their station in life with little means to escape, entire lives are spent toiling in service of those above.¡±

    Jeremiah found himself nodding, in spite of himself. He added a lump of sugar to his cup, stirring it as he thought. His spoon rode the ridge of the cup for just a second, eliciting a shrill ceramic screech.

    ¡°Ah,¡± said Lyle, flinching at the sound. His cringe was apparent even beneath the mask. "Sorry, that noise cuts right through me." Jeremiah laid his spoon down with apology and Lyle relaxed. ¡°Down here,¡± he continued, ¡°there is no judgement, no arbitrary power differences. There is only the freedom to live your life as you see fit.¡± Lyle tapped his coffee cup to Jeremiah¡¯s in a forced cheer.

    ¡°So this girl,¡± said Jeremiah gesturing to Madella, ¡°killed someone so she could run a cafe?¡±

    Lyle laughed into his coffee, ¡°So to speak. To run a cafe free of taxation, regulation, and certainly at a greater profit. Ask her to put some whisky in your coffee and she¡¯ll do it. Topside she¡¯d need to be registered as a bar, and pay greater taxes, for a simple favor of spiking a morning coffee at their customer¡¯s request.¡±

    ¡°So she killed someone,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Not everyone has the same requirement of entry, and it¡¯s not my place to discuss hers,¡± said Lyle, quashing the inquiry.

    Jeremiah looked around the cafe, taking in the ambience in the silence. Decorated as it was with colorful tapestries, cushions for seats, and tiny pillows abound, it was still an ancient building. He could see signs of old graffiti scratched into the walls, some still nearly legible.

    ¡°Gorrus makes¡­¡± the rest was scratched out, but beneath that, replacing the original message, ¡°my daddy¡­cause he can¡¯t.¡± Part of the replacement text was illegible as well.

    Jeremiah was beginning to grow uncomfortable. After Nascent, he¡¯d been expecting more of¡­of whatever Nascent was, not this social commentary that he kept finding himself on the verge of agreeing with. He drained his cup and set it onto the table. ¡°Can we keep walking? I want to see for myself.¡±

    Lyle nodded and placed a gold coin on the table as they left, a gesture Jeremiah was certain had been for his benefit.

    The little utopia was roughly a dozen city blocks to a side. Robes and masks aside, it was remarkably similar to a stroll in any other city. As they headed towards an open market square, they began passing more and more people, as well as stalls advertising food, drugs, weapons, animals, sexual favors, and stolen goods of all varieties.

    Jeremiah observed that money exchanged hands most times, but not every time¡ªsome transactions seemed to fall in the realm of barter, and at least once he spotted a small-statured woman simply take what she wanted with no effort to conceal her theft, and no clear response from the merchants. For her, a hard glare was apparently payment enough.

    The same woman gave Jeremiah and Lyle a cheery, ¡°Hullo!¡± as she passed. Everyone seemed remarkably friendly, a far cry from the attitudes he¡¯d grown accustomed to on the streets of Elminia. Jeremiah had to assume walking by Lyle¡¯s side came with certain privileges.

    He had to admit it was more pleasant to be here than up above. There was no furious rush of traffic, no beggars to be kicked or overlooked, no guards ready to beat anyone who chose the wrong stoop to take a rest. People seemed¡­happy.

    ¡° It¡¯s a delusion ,¡± said Delilah. ¡° Society¡¯s laws exist to protect us from people like this. You¡¯re looking at a congregation of predators. ¡±

    ¡°How many people are down here?¡± he asked. ¡°Do they all get a personal tour from the man in charge?¡±

    ¡°Down here right now or in total? I want to say around twelve hundred total? But at any one time, who knows. Plenty of people coming and going. We have many members who only stop by now and then.¡±

    ¡°And the tour?¡±

    Lyle chuckled. ¡°No, not everyone gets a personal tour, I admit, though I do try to meet new people when I can. I was informed you might have some talents that could be uniquely valuable to us as an organization.¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯m a mage?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°That very thing.¡±

    An alarm bell sounded in Jeremiah¡¯s head. After all that talk about freedom, of course Lyle intended to manipulate Jeremiah for his own purposes. But he smiled and followed, just another willing member of the flock.

    ¡°Dismal!¡± one man called out to Jeremiah. His robes were full to bursting, and his mask was pockmarked with gold leaf and had two tiny stylized horns on top. ¡°We¡¯ve got the purest dismal here! Corruption paste as well, eyebite, poppy juice, you name it we got it!¡± Jeremiah had accidentally made eye contact and was now being hawked directly. ¡°New guy! I¡¯ve got what you need! Amnesiatics of every flavor! First taste is free with me!¡±

    ¡°Need anything?¡± asked Lyle.

    ¡°Let me have a look,¡± said Jeremiah. He had spotted the resiny weed that Allison had given him amongst the various troughs and bottles of drugs. ¡°What¡¯s this one here?¡± he asked.

    The shopkeeper told him.

    ¡°I see,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°thank you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, in case you¡¯re wondering, won¡¯t get in any trouble down here,¡± said Lyle, stopping to give Jeremiah time to view dazzling selection, tastefully organized by color and implement of application. There were purple needles, gray bricks, green salves, red waxy weeds, vials of clear liquid and more.

    ¡°No I get it, I¡¯m alright,¡± Jeremiah said again, apologizing to the vendor.

    ¡°You come by anytime, new guy, Papa¡¯s here for you!¡± said the vendor. He went back to calling his wares to the crowd.

    ¡°Ah, here¡¯s someone you should know,¡± said Lyle. He led them towards a raised stage and waved to a man with a mask that had been painted fully forest green with thin purple lines coming down from the eyes. The man grasped a leather wrapped mace in his left hand and a bundle of ropes in his right, each of which led to a collar around the neck of a person. The collared individuals wore rags over their emaciated bodies and burlap hoods over their heads. One of them was clearly a child.

    ¡° See? ¡± said Delilah.

    ¡°Ah ,¡± thought Jeremiah.

    ¡°Morning, Lyle,¡± said the man. ¡°New blood today?¡±

    ¡°Good morning, Cocar,¡± said Lyle. ¡°Yes, this is Jay. He¡¯s new to our ranks and has a bright future ahead. I imagine he¡¯ll be able to make excellent use of your services after he finds his footing.¡±

    ¡°Wonderful! Pleasure to meet you, Jay. Feel free to reach out with requests anytime.¡± He inclined his head towards Jeremiah before bringing his wards up onto the stage.

    ¡°I feel compelled to ask about what appear to be slaves, amongst all this freedom,¡± said Jeremiah as Cocar began to show his wards off to the crowd, pulling the hoods off their heads with a flourish.

    ¡°Slaves is a legal term,¡± said Lyle. The first was a human woman, staring around herself with wide terrified eyes.

    ¡°Here we go,¡±  thought Jeremiah. The second was an older gnomish man. Cocar held up his delicate fingers as evidence of a skilled worker.

    ¡°You may find it hard to believe, but many of Cocar¡¯s indentures come to him willingly. They choose indenturement contracts to secure food and to pay off debts that might otherwise be life threatening.¡±

    The third hood, the child¡¯s, came free to reveal a human boy, perhaps eight years old, with hollow cheeks and bulging yellow eyes that darted from face to face, finding only cold porcelain masks turned back towards him.

    ¡°So they just freedom themselves into lifelong bondage,¡± said Jeremiah. He felt sick.

    ¡°Some do, yes,¡± said Lyle, ¡°others'' contracts are temporary. But, as I said, they are often the result of a voluntary exchange. It was a choice. Sometimes people regret their choices, but that¡¯s the price of freedom.¡±

    Jeremiah cast his gaze around the market square. He spotted more people wearing collars, ropes, or chains among the crowd, but unlike the true members of the flock, the slaves wore no masks.

    ¡°Remember,¡± said Lyle, ¡°you¡¯re under no obligation to use indentures yourself. Just because you  can  doesn¡¯t mean you  must.  Most of us adopt  ¡® a live and let live¡¯ philosophy. I¡¯m sure you wouldn¡¯t want your fellows impeding on your personal freedoms? Extending them the same courtesy is simply being a good neighbor.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± said Jeremiah. Cocar was now bent to negotiate with shoppers, ordering the slaves to demonstrate whichever actions the potential buyer was interested in. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want to impose my will over anyone else.¡±

    ¡°My thoughts exactly!¡± said Lyle. ¡°Now, if you¡¯ll step this way¡ªthere is something I have been really looking forward to showing you.¡±

 Chapter 51. The Circle

    Chapter 51. The Circle

    Lyle¡¯s chatter increased as they walked, and Jeremiah realized his excitement was undercut with a growing nervousness. About what, though, he had no idea.

    They didn¡¯t have far to go¡ªaround the back of the market square, Lyle led Jeremiah to a building unlike the others. It was recently built, constructed of heavy stone blocks, and featured no windows. A pair of stone doors at the top of a grand set of stairs. As they approached, Jeremiah spotted tiny enchanting runes engraved upon the doors¡¯ surfaces.

    ¡°Now,¡± said Lyle, standing between Jeremiah and the door, ¡°we face an important moment. If you¡¯re really a mage, great. We can do a lot with that. But if you can open this door¡­well, we¡¯re going to need to have a very important talk.¡±

    Jeremiah studied the door. The etchings were an unpowered enchantment diagram. It was complex and some runes were unfamiliar to him, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

    ¡°This hedonistic wretch lives a life devoid of discipline,¡±  said Thurok. ¡°There will be some sort of childish trick to overcome, nothing that demands true expertise.¡±

    ¡°First thing¡¯s first,¡± said Jeremiah. He placed his hands on the door and spoke the words to charge the diagram.

    Lyle clapped his hands in excitement. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s already more than I dared hope!¡±

    The diagram stayed dark, however, the door sealed. Jeremiah frowned, and traced the intricate lines. After a few minutes, he discovered a break where several lines should intersect. There was an indentation there, as though a small circular chunk of the surface had been removed.

    He tapped the spot. ¡°Here¡¯s the problem. The diagram isn¡¯t complete until these lines link up. It looks like a piece is supposed to fit in there.¡±

    ¡°Something like this?¡± Lyle produced an amulet on a chain from his robes. It was a pendant of the same dark stone the building was made from, with several intricate lines crisscrossing the center.

    ¡°Such pedantic idiocy,¡±  said Thurok.

    ¡°Probably that exact thing, yes,¡± said Jeremiah, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

    ¡°Go ahead, take it,¡± said Lyle, offering the pendant. Jeremiah could hear his smug smile.

    Jeremiah took Lyle¡¯s pendant and pressed it into place, aligning it with the points of the runes. Sure enough, it slotted in perfectly. Jeremiah incanted again, and the door glowed briefly before the gap between the doors yawned open, like the mouth of a lazy beast.

    ¡°We have  so much  to discuss,¡± said Lyle. He took the pendant from Jeremiah and ushered him inside.

    It was darker in the building, and Jeremiah¡¯s eyes needed a moment to adjust. Details emerged slowly¡ªthe room was circular, with a few plain doors around the perimeter. They stood upon a polished black metal floor. Enchanting implements were hung on one wall, but otherwise the room was empty.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± asked Lyle, arms outstretched.

    Jeremiah looked around, wondering what he was supposed to be seeing. Finally, he realized it was beneath their feet¡ªincalculable tiny lines swarmed the floor, spreading in all directions like cracks in a frozen lake. It was by far the largest enchantment diagram he had ever seen. Jeremiah recognized the material as adamantine, a very rare, very resilient metal. His father had sparingly used pieces of adamantine the size of a fingernail in his jewelry work, and here was a circle that spanned an entire room.

    He began to walk the perimeter, admiring the intricate details. ¡°What is this? Did you engrave it?¡± If so, then he had vastly underestimated Lyle¡ªthis diagram was the work of a master.

    ¡°This is the great project,¡± said Lyle, ¡°the culmination of generations of work. Well, a piece of it anyways. I¡¯m the sole custodian in Elminia. I maintain it, charge it, and occasionally improve upon the design. And if you¡¯re interested, I¡¯d like you to join me.¡±

    Jeremiah realized this was why Lyle had been nervous¡ªhe didn¡¯t want the help, he needed it.

    ¡° Pull back ,¡± said Bruno. ¡° Make him chase you .¡±

    ¡°Umm.¡± Jeremiah ran a finger over one node, as though inspecting its craftsmanship. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it, okay?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t act like you¡¯re not impressed!¡± Lyle cackled. ¡°This is the rarest opportunity, the chance to work on a true masterwork. And the pay is great, if you know what I mean.¡±

    Something was off about Lyle in this place. The veneer was cracking, Lyle was becoming more erratic.

    ¡°Reel him in,¡±  said Delilah.

    ¡°Actually, I have no idea what you mean. Speak plainly¡ªwhat exactly are you offering?¡±

    Lyle was silent for a time. When he next spoke, his voice was measured, colder than Jeremiah had yet heard. ¡°Whatever it is that brought you here, we can procure it, in ways you¡¯ve never even thought of. An entire army working to satisfy your every whim. We have members here from the lowest serial killers to the upper ranks of the regency. Join me in this work, and you may command them all.¡±

    This was different than anything Lyle had said before. It was frightening. ¡°You make it sound almost like a shadow government,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°There¡¯s a form of shadow government in Elminia,¡± said Lyle, ¡°and we control that too. Every single soul of consequence that harbors secret desires knows our touch, is beholden to the pursuit of that need.¡± Lyle knelt down to inspect an inscription closely.

    Something else was going on here. The flock was much more than a cult of hedonistic indulgence.

    ¡°Sole custodian, but also said ¡®we¡¯,¡±  said Delilah.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the only diagram, is it?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    Lyle looked at Jeremiah. Through the masks, they held each other''s gaze. Jeremiah tensed. His life was being weighed at this very moment. The other man had given no hint of threat, but Jeremiah could feel it, plain as day.

    ¡°It is not,¡± said Lyle.

    ¡°Careful!¡±  said Allison.  ¡°No one knows where you are. If you die down here, you¡¯ll just disappear.¡±

    ¡°No, press,¡±  said Delilah.  ¡°He brought you here because he needs you.¡±

    Jeremiah snapped his fingers, trying to bring his own levity into the conversation. ¡°The cult serves the enchantment, doesn¡¯t it? This place had to have come first. The work of generations, you said? And the cult formed around it.¡±

    ¡°Correct,¡± said Lyle. Still cold, but with a hint of a smile in his tone.

    ¡°But,¡± Jeremiah began pacing as he talked, ¡°there¡¯s always been someone to steward the enchantment, someone like you. You¡¯re not an old man, you¡¯re not just looking to pass on the task. No, something is changing.¡±

    It all made sense. The fever in Elminia was peaking, everyone knew something was coming and nobody knew what. But this was it, the something was in this room with him right now.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± said Lyle.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Jeremiah stopped pacing. ¡°Lyle, what does this enchantment do?¡±

    Lyle hesitated. Too long.

    ¡° He wants to trust you ,¡± said Bruno. ¡° Let him .¡±

    Jeremiah crossed the space between them and spoke in a low whisper. ¡°Let''s pretend I didn''t come down here just to get high. Let¡¯s pretend I''m looking for something more interesting. More meaningful. I know you¡¯ve carried this alone for a long time. I also know there¡¯s nobody else like me coming along again anytime soon.¡±

    It was Jeremiah¡¯s turn to put a reassuring hand on Lyle¡¯s shoulder. Lyle stared at him, but Jeremiah couldn''t read anything. Lyle could have been weeping, or smiling, or preparing to kill him. He had no way of knowing.

    Lyle was still as if he¡¯d been carved from marble. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper. ¡°Do you believe in the power of freedom? Truly believe?¡±

    Jeremiah exhaled, filling himself with Lyle¡¯s worldview, forcing himself to accept the other man¡¯s reality, just for a moment. ¡°I do.¡±

    A moment¡¯s more silence as Lyle was scrutinized him. For what, Jeremiah had no idea.

    Then Lyle spoke, quickly and harshly, like a confession. ¡°I need someone to help control them.¡±

    ¡°Control people? I thought this whole thing was about freedom?¡±

    ¡°Not the people,¡± said Lyle.

    The air chilled. ¡°What¡­uh¡­what do you mean, ¡®not the people¡¯?¡± Jeremiah suddenly felt very alone, save for a terrible truth lurking just beyond his comprehension.

    ¡°The people need help,¡± said Lyle, with dreadful composure. ¡°It''s not their fault, it''s just their nature.¡± He began walking toward the center of the diagram, one arm outstretched, reaching for something Jeremiah couldn''t see. ¡°They need help grasping the possibilities. All of the possibilities.¡±

    Lyle reached the center, and his hand warped as though it were reflected in a deformed mirror. There was something in this room. Something wrong.

    ¡°The curtain has worn so thin, for so long,¡± said Lyle, letting his hand twist and split in the wrongness of space. ¡°And the people weaken the curtain as well as they give in to their needs. The thinner the curtain, the more they give in. It¡¯s beautiful.¡±

    ¡°Lyle, is this some kind of mind control?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°No! The exact opposite. We are liberating them. We will shine a light on their very souls and they will reach a transcendence of true self-awareness.¡± Lyle caressed the split of wrongness. ¡°All people, everywhere, will truly know themselves, will finally be able to reach past society¡¯s boundaries to seize exactly what they need.

    ¡°But for such a miracle, we need help¡­¡± He raised his gaze to Jeremiah, formed a fist in the air, and yanked.

    Something tore, something in the world.

    Something tore, something in the world. Jeremiah looked into the tear, and his mind was blasted with a riotous torrent of concepts pouring forth and crashing against the brick and mortar bulwark of reality. Jeremiah became aware of concepts for which there were no words, concepts of pain beyond pain, the texture of loneliness, the taste of despair, the stretching sensation of chaos unbound that would scatter your body and soul at the slightest breeze. HIs mind reeled at an infinite number of memories of torment and indulgence. But there was also a calling, one that pierced deep into the animal part of his brain and gave him permission to ride any impulse that came to him. To be an impulse. Freedom from himself, from his doubts, from his fears, anxieties, regrets, temptations, weaknesses, flaws, everything.

    ¡°You are a microcosm of perfection,¡± it spoke, ¡°Embrace thyself.¡±

    ¡°But I Fear,¡± Jeremiah¡¯s mind spoke back.

    ¡°Then Fear without limit,¡± it said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to Fear.¡±

    ¡°Then Fear nothing. All you do, all you feel, all you think, is perfection. You are the paragon of You."

    He was of limitless potential. Nothing could stand in his way.

    It was bliss.

    Jeremiah¡¯s mind recrystallized, scabbing over the blind insanity that had threatened the very boundaries of his sense of self.

    ¡°You¡¯re okay! You¡¯re okay!¡± Lyle was saying.

    ¡°What¡­what was I?¡± Jeremiah asked. It was the right question, but also made no sense. He was lying in a heap on that black mirror floor, his head ringing. The wrong space was once again invisible.

    Lyle was by his side, helping him sit up. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, I should have eased you into that.¡±

    ¡°What was it?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°That was a glimpse into another world,¡± said Lyle proudly, ¡°one that¡¯s now so very close to ours. The thinness of the veil helps the people of this city to understand themselves and their true needs.¡±

    ¡°It felt¡­chaotic,¡± said Jeremiah. It was as close a word as he could muster.

    Lyle chuckled, ¡°Yeah, first time is quite the hit.¡±

    ¡°It also felt, well, evil,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Capital E Evil, even!¡±  said Flusoh.

    ¡°That¡¯s just the shock,¡± said Lyle. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it.¡±

    ¡°Lyle, was that Hell?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± said Lyle, ¡°Hell is a plane of pure tyranny and wickedness. It¡¯s what our world is becoming, with its relentless laws and bureaucracy.¡±

    ¡°Check the other one,¡±  said Flusoh.

    ¡°Was it the Abyss?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    Lyle sighed. ¡°The  name  of the plane doesn¡¯t matter. What matters is that it will free our people¡ªall people¡ªfrom the chains that bind them. Both internal and external.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s the Abyss,¡±  said Flusoh.

    Jeremiah had learned about the other planes of existence during his studies with Flusoh. Hell and the Abyss were indeed two distinct versions of damnation, though to a normal person the difference would be pedantic.

    Hell was a world of torment and ironclad hierarchy, where the very concepts of law and order were woven into the fabric of existence. It was populated by creatures called devils, monsters most known for striking deals with mortals in exchange for their souls.

    The Abyss, on the other hand, was pure chaotic evil. Any semblance of order was only built upon one''s ability to enforce it. It was populated by demons, nightmarish creatures of limitless variety.

    ¡°You¡¯re trying to bring demons into the world?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    Lyle held up a finger. ¡°No, no! Simply pulling a demon into the world is easy. Any mage who knows conjuring can do it. What we¡¯re doing here is bringing the Abyss to our realm, making them coterminous with each other.¡±

    ¡°And how is that different?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°It¡¯s about the influence of the Abyss itself! The thinning of the barrier has already been affecting this city for generations. Why do you think Elminia is so wealthy and successful? People take chances here. They bet long, they pursue their dreams with reckless abandon and fight for them tooth and nail. You must have felt it. It drives you to greatness.¡±

    That rising fever. Jeremiah shuddered. All those horrific things he¡¯d witnessed and experienced flashed through his mind. Cutter. Monty. The Tragedy. Selfishness and suffering run rampant.

    But if Lyle¡¯s words were true, all that was simply another side of Jeremiah¡¯s success. Conquering the Gilded Vault, daring to kiss Delilah¡ªhe didn¡¯t want to believe it. How could something so wonderful be linked to something so Evil?

    Lyle was watching him closely. ¡°The power is within you, within all of us,¡± he said. ¡°All we¡¯re doing is setting it free.¡±

    ¡°I¡­I understand,¡± said Jeremiah. In truth, his thoughts were a maelstrom. He wanted to be great, not evil. He wanted that power, feared the responsibility. Were they really so entwined?

    A sense of urgency was rising in Jeremiah¡¯s chest. He was standing on that stormy shore again, rushing darkness below. He hoped he was strong enough this time. ¡°What do you need from me?¡±

    Lyle took Jeremiah¡¯s hands in his own and spoke in a low voice. ¡°We are close. The fabric between worlds is nearly worn through. You are to become an expert in this most wonderous enchantment. It is carved in adamantine, and cannot be marred by common tools, but I will show you how to maintain it.

    ¡°And when the time comes, and it is coming soon, you will help me control the emissaries of the Abyss, to protect our people while the purveyors of infernal power guide us all in a journey of self discovery.¡±

    ¡°Emissaries?¡± Jeremiah asked. ¡°You mean the demons?¡±

    ¡°Yes. With our combined power, we will bind their wills to ours, and bring true freedom to our people.¡± Lyle¡¯s hand fell to the amulet as he spoke. ¡°We will be the vanguard of a new, better world, one where we may live unfettered. When you falter, I will aid you. When I stumble, I will have faith in you to catch me. Will you join me in this great project, brother?¡±

    ¡°I am with you.¡± Jeremiah heard his own voice, as though from far away.

    Lyle gripped Jeremiah¡¯s forearm and pulled him into an embrace. ¡°Then at last, true freedom is at hand.¡±

 Chapter 52. Screaming

    Chapter 52. Screaming

    Jeremiah took a deep breath, tasting the dust in the air. Every step he took away from the stone building and the wrong-space inside helped restore some of himself. Gradually, he came to feel more anchored, less adrift.

    Taking his leave of Lyle had been as easy as truthfully saying he needed to rest. The other man had seemed to understand without reservation, waving him towards the door with a promise to find him later to begin teaching him about the enchantment.

    The city was bustling with more activity than earlier. It seemed people were returning after a day of topside life. Jeremiah¡¯s feet carried him smoothly past the market crowds, nodding automatically in response to the friendly greetings people offered upon seeing his clean, white mask.

    ¡°Dimensions, Gus,¡± he muttered. ¡°Defensive structures, weapons, militia organization. We¡¯re going to note anything of note, and then we''re going to leave.¡±

    Gus didn''t respond. He had remained huddled and still since Jeremiah had glimpsed the Abyss. Or was it for longer?

    Jeremiah walked the city, but his mind was back in that room, the adamantine diagram under his feet.

    ¡°You are perfection,¡± said the call of the Abyss.

    Jeremiah shook his head and realized he had no idea where he was. He had taken no note of his surroundings or their defensive capabilities. His heart was racing, and all he could think about was the enchantment and what was coming.

    He had to get out of here before Lyle showed him the Abyss again. The prospect evoked dread and longing in equal measure. What would happen if he listened to that voice once more? What would he be capable of? The question tantalized and terrified him.

    ¡°You¡¯re on edge,¡±  said Delilah.  ¡°Focus on the mission.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll take care of it,¡±  said Allison.  ¡°Follow the plan. Follow the orders.¡±

    Yeah, they would take care of it. His friends, or the empress, or anyone else at all. He wouldn¡¯t need to enter that room ever again.

    ¡°You are perfection.¡±

    ¡°I am human,¡± said Jeremiah out loud. ¡°I am fallible. I can¡¯t forget that or people die.¡± A passerby nodded sympathetically.

    The desire-fear still burned like a small ember in his heart, but Jeremiah forced himself to continue walking. He tried to put the question of how his friends would deal with an ancient, nearly-indestructible adamantine enchantment out of his head to focus on the task at hand.

    ¡°Just gather information,¡± said Delilah. ¡° Just enough to convince the empress we¡¯ve fulfilled our side of the deal, and you can be done.¡±

    That did sound nice. Jeremiah imagined shrugging off the mantle of deceit and returning to his old life¡ªa burgeoning enchanter, surrounded by friends who cared about him. That wouldn¡¯t be so bad, right? That could be good enough.

    Jeremiah noted that in a city of absolute freedom, nobody seemed interested in guard duty. Many denizens carried weapons, but few wore armor, and each was focused on their own immediate surroundings. Nobody was keeping an eye out for trouble generally, the way a patrolling city guard might.

    ¡°All this freedom may leave them vulnerable ,¡± thought Jeremiah. As he assessed the intersection of organized defense and total freedom, he noticed bells were hung high on the street corners, with long hanging ropes. Nobody paid them any mind. Jeremiah surmised they may be part of an alarm system, although it wasn¡¯t clear who would respond to the alert. Disabling all of them would be quite an effort, possibly worth it? Jeremiah filed the information away.

    He used his newcomer privilege to learn where the other entrances were¡ªnobody used the staircase at the bottom of the Pit, if they could help it. Three more popular ones were accessible from Elminia proper, converging underground to form a main entrance tunnel, meaning access points were relatively limited. The main entrance landed in the underground city with a grand doorway, framed with huge chains carved directly into the stone, depicted with the links cracked and broken.

    Jeremiah rolled his eyes at the cliche symbolism. He was tempted to follow the tunnels back up and learn where they emerged, but he worried he would not be able to bring himself to return if he did.

    Structurally, the city gave cult members an advantage. The hodgepodge of buildings in various states of repair meant people familiar with them could move from place to place unseen by an assaulting force. Lots of places to hide. Perhaps a smaller team could use the same architecture to its advantage.

    This was helping. Focusing on the mission made it easier to ignore the tickle at the back of his mind, the one he couldn¡¯t ignore now that he had a name for it. The Abyss spoke to him beyond his hearing, a faint whisper on the back of his neck wherever he went.

    "A sizable force could get in through that main thoroughfare," thought Jeremiah.

    "It''s a chokepoint," said Allison, "Easy to defend, one would assume there''d be some kind of defense or alarm."

    "Definitely," said Bruno, "Traps or alarms at the very least."

    "Better idea," said Delilah, "We can start get infiltrators in by shadowing the exits. Pressuring people who can-"

    Jeremiah sensed the body before he saw it, a familiar empty pull of necromantic potential drawing his gaze before he even realized what he was looking for.

    There. A dead woman by the side of the street.

    The masked denizens of the flock just stepped around the body, save for a few who prodded it with a foot, then moved on as though dissatisfied with the quality. The dead woman also wore robes and a mask, although the mask had been cracked by one of the dozens of stab wounds that marked her face and body. A puddle of blood was pooling beneath her. The murder was fresh.

    Someone had enjoyed their freedom. Someone had heeded an urge to indulge, and it had led to the violence arrayed before him. The whisper in his mind grew stronger for a moment, as he took in the scene. Jeremiah could almost sense the ecstasy the murderer felt.

    ¡°Yours?¡± someone asked.

    Jeremiah jumped. A woman stood beside him, tall enough to be of orcish descent and wearing deep purple robes. Her mask was a chaotic swirl of colors. Trailing behind her, a pair of collared halflings stood close, looking away from the body.

    ¡°Um, no,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°I didn¡¯t do this.¡±

    The woman waved a hand. ¡°I meant, are you claiming it? Or do you just want a piece?¡±

    Jeremiah shook his head. ¡°Just looking,¡± he muttered.

    The woman snapped her fingers, and the two halflings moved to the corpse and arranged it between them.

    ¡°Her own fault,¡± the woman said as her slaves struggled to lift the body, ¡°walking around down here without situational awareness. Something like this would never happen to me.¡±

    ¡°I wonder if she thought the same thing,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Psh! If she did, she was clearly wrong,¡± said the woman. ¡°C¡¯mon, let¡¯s get this thing moving.¡± She left, the slaves following with the body.

    That doesn¡¯t concern you,¡± said Allison.

    ¡°You¡¯re on edge as it is, focus on the mission,¡± said Delilah.

    Jeremiah watched the woman leave, and no one was giving her a second glance.

    ¡°What¡¯s one more atrocity,¡± thought Jeremiah. He had to know. He didn¡¯t know why he had to know, but he did. He looked down and saw some of the woman¡¯s skin flaps had been left behind on the ground by whoever had cut them away. This had happened in view of everyone.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°It¡¯s a deep dark hole kid,¡± said Flusoh, ¡°they chose this. They all chose this.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right, they all chose this. They chose everything that happens here,¡± thought Jeremiah, surprising himself. The memory of the man in the closet. He was here. He was everywhere down here. What did that mean?

    But Jeremiah watched them go. No one else gave them a second glance. His hands hurt, and he realized he had been digging his nails into his palms.

    ¡°The people weaken the curtain when they give in to their needs, ¡±Lyle had said. ¡°The thinner the curtain, the more they give in.¡±

    What lay at the juncture between humanity and absolute freedom?

    Ignoring the chorus of voices in his head telling him to let it go, Jeremiah began to follow the woman. He had to know.

    ?

    <hr>

    ?

    Jeremiah followed from a moderate distance, noting that the woman¡¯s situational awareness was mediocre at best.

    Several blocks down, reaching toward the edge of the light in the city, the woman led Jeremiah to a peculiar building.  Unlike the other homes and businesses here, which resided in ancient and reclaimed structures, this one was a new construction. It was broad and long, some sort of warehouse. Windowless with wide double doors at the entrance, it was definitely set up to receive shipments of some sort. The two halfling slaves dragged the corpse inside while their owner held the door open.

    ¡°Whatever is in there, you don¡¯t need to see it,¡± said a cacophony of voices in Jeremiah¡¯s mind.

    ¡°Oh but you do,¡± said Flusoh.

    ¡°Why would I go this far and not go farther?¡± thought Jeremiah.

    He shoved open the swinging double doors and found himself on the customer side of a butcher¡¯s counter. A glass case displayed cuts of meat and sausage. Jeremiah did a double take on the stack of human legs alongside the more typical cuts of meat.

    The corpse was up on the butcher¡¯s block while an enormous human cut away its robes, revealing the naked and torn flesh beneath. The orcish woman stood by and watched him work.

    ¡°Ah, Kelthis has been at this.¡± The butcher¡¯s voice was thick and deep. He had eschewed his robes for a thick leather apron, and wore a blood red mask with a wet, reflective sheen. ¡°He took his choices and was happy. Wasteful to be honest, but to each his due.¡± The butcher pointed to some sections of missing skin.

    ¡°Thought he was off the girls?¡± said the woman.

    ¡°Swapped again. Some bloke put him off. She¡¯s in good shape though, give you six silver.¡±

    ¡°Oh, feeling generous, Gurg?¡± said the woman. ¡°This is as fresh as they come, you know.¡±

    Gurg and the woman haggled for a few minutes before she accepted a price. Coins in hand and slaves in tow, she swept out of the shop. ¡°Help you?¡± Gurg asked Jeremiah, beginning to work on the corpse.

    Jeremiah finally raised his face from the dead woman. Upon seeing the pristine condition of his mask, Gurg¡¯s demeanor changed instantly. ¡°Ah, welcome! Finding your feet?¡± the butcher asked.

    ¡°They just  love  new people. Why is that?¡±  wondered Jeremiah.

    ¡°You make them feel better about their decisions,¡±  said Delilah.

    ¡°You¡¯re a potential new asset,¡±  said Bruno.  ¡°Or product. Or victim.¡±

    ¡°Stop getting distracted!¡±  said Allison.  ¡°Scout and leave.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m just getting the lay of the land, so to speak,¡± said Jeremiah. The polite joviality tasted like sand in his mouth.

    The man laid down his knife to introduce himself. ¡°I¡¯m Gurg, and I¡¯m something of a staple down here. Storage is my game mostly, but I dabble in meats as well, as you can see, and procurement. Odds and ends. If you need it, I can get it for you.¡±

    ¡°Weapons?¡± asked Jeremiah. ¡°Armor? Potions?¡±

    Gurg nodded. ¡°Exactly what I¡¯m talking about, real product! Yessir, I¡¯ve got the lot. I¡¯m the supplier for the militia down here.¡±

    This was the good stuff, this is what he was here for. ¡°Oh, there¡¯s a militia? That¡¯s a little surprising,¡± said Jeremiah.

    ¡°Collective defense, very important. If the call goes out that there¡¯s real trouble, militia members grab their gear and muster. People have fun with it, to be honest. Breaks up the day.¡±

    ¡°Have trouble often?¡± asked Jeremiah.

    ¡°Eh, no, not really. Once in a while adventurers stumble in, or the kobolds get restless and make a raid. There¡¯s bells stationed all over, if you see a kobold just give a ring.¡±

    Gurg brought out his cleaver. Jeremiah tried not to flinch as he brought it down on the woman over and over, separating the cuts that were of interest to him. The woman¡¯s limbs and torso were expertly sectioned. He collected the blood runoff in a bucket placed under his block. Certain organs¡ªthe liver, heart, and pancreas¡ªhe placed carefully aside and wrapped in paper before dropping the rest into a large barrel with a fleshy splat.

    The head Gurg left intact. He displayed it on the counter, setting the broken mask aside and pulling the hair back away from the face so the woman¡¯s deathly visage greeted anyone who walked through the doors. Satisfied, he salted the limbs and torso sections, then bundled them up for storage.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to head down to the warehouse, if you¡¯re interested in the tour,¡± Gurg said. ¡°There¡¯s lots of inventory I don¡¯t have space for up here. Fresh stuff, too. And you can see the storage facility on offer.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± said Jeremiah. ¡°I¡¯d like to see what else you have.¡± His blood pounded in his ears. He may have been a necromancer, but he had never witnessed such disregard for a lost life, much less one that had been a member of the community a mere hour prior.

    ¡°Great, you can give me a hand with this, then.¡± Gurg handed Jeremiah a few packaged pieces of the woman, and bade him follow.

    Jeremiah had handled thousands of bodies in his life. The packages he carried now felt different. Heavier. He could still feel the warmth of life through the white paper.

    Gurg led him down a short hallway before they arrived at an iron door sealed with a trio of locks. This door was properly secured, reinforced with several layers of bolted plates. ¡°Gets a little loud in there,¡± he said.

    He undid one lock, and Jeremiah heard a low murmur from beyond the door.

    The second lock clicked, and the murmur turned to a roar.

    With third lock, the voices began to scream.

    Gurg threw the door open, and a chorus of wailing assaulted them. ¡°Let me know if you see anything you like, I offer good discounts for newcomers,¡± he called over the din.

    The walls of the warehouse were lined with row upon row of cages, and in nearly every one was a living person. Jeremiah saw men and women of every age and race staring back at him. Some cried, most screamed, their voices blurring into a continuous cacophony of inconceivable despair and terror. The screams filled Jeremiah¡¯s ears, his head, his lungs. He could feel it in his teeth and in his hair.

    ¡°Right over here, please,¡± shouted Gurg. He led Jeremiah past the cages towards an area where a dozen bodies hung by their ankles, chest cavities hollowed out. Another blood-stained butcher¡¯s block stood nearby, as well as a row of shelves bearing similar white paper packages.

    ¡°Weapons and gear are all down that way, but as you can see, we have the means to store plenty of live bodies until you need them. Good security, and the cost covers food and water.¡±

    ¡°Oh that¡¯s nice,¡± said Jeremiah. The smell. The screams were so overwhelming he hadn¡¯t noticed the stench. It was indeterminate, organic, and it set off every instinctive alarm in his brain.

    ¡°Come on home ,¡± said Allison. ¡°You don¡¯t need to be here.¡±

    ¡°I do processing and dressing too, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re looking for. De-tonguings, blindings, full amputation. Stuff like that.¡±

    ¡°Oh good,¡± said Jeremiah. The screams weren¡¯t stopping.

    "You''ve done enough," said Delilah.

    ¡°I sell wholesale too, if you¡¯re not intending on bringing your own.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± said Jeremiah. The screams weren¡¯t stopping.

    "Let us take care of this," said Bruno.

    ¡°Sure enough. Got a fine selection to be sure-¡±

    The screams weren¡¯t stopping.

    ¡°Got the standards, of course, men and women-¡±

    The screams weren¡¯t stopping.

    ¡°Got em younger too of course-¡±

    The screams weren¡¯t stopping.

    ¡°Oh you eat children,¡± said Jeremiah.

    "Come on home kid!" said Flusoh.

    The screams weren¡¯t stopping.

    ¡°Wha? Me? Never. Cannibalism is barbaric. I just sell what people are buying.¡±

    ¡°Ah, of course,¡± said a man who wasn¡¯t as Jeremiah as he used to be.

    ¡°If you¡¯ve got the coin I can get you the real veal specials as well.¡±

    The man in the closet screamed at him from every cage.

    ¡°Oh yeah?¡±

    ¡°Sure. Women with child are hard to come by in the wild. But if you¡¯re patient we can-¡±

    Rise.

 Chapter 53. Rise

    Chapter 53. Rise

    ¡°Move your fucking arm!¡± Jeremiah screamed down at Gurg. Jeremiah¡¯s magic dagger plunged down over and over again, sending great lashes of blood across the empty open floor in the room like a crimson whip.

    Gurg cried out as Jeremiah¡¯s blade bit deep, but kept his arm raised to protect his face. Two hooked zombies were pulling him in opposite directions, raising him up off the ground, helpless.

    The screams escalated around them and Jeremiah¡¯s blade fell again and again. Sharper than any surgeon¡¯s scalpel, the dagger sliced through muscle and sinew, and as Gurg¡¯s screams joined the others, it shattered Gurg¡¯s mask to hack at the face below.

    Jeremiah kept stabbing even after Gurg¡¯s voice had fallen silent and his body sagged against the zombies holding him. Cold fury pumped through his veins, disgust at every atrocity the butcher represented.

    When Jeremiah finally stopped, he was drenched in sweat as well as blood. The screams of the caged people had never ceased throughout the act of violence, but when he ripped off his mask and robes, they faded. Jeremiah¡¯s ears rang in the quiet. He became aware of a hundred faces turned towards him as he panted, wearing only his simple trousers and magic armor.

    ¡°Hey. Hey, let us out!¡± someone shouted. Others began to clamor as well, pleading for Jeremiah¡¯s mercy.

    ¡°Stay where you are!¡± said Jeremiah. The voices fell silent as the faces watched him fearfully, unsure if he was to be their savior or the harbinger of yet more horror.

    Little did they know. Jeremiah turned back to the butcher¡¯s block, to where the book of  Flesh  awaited him patiently. It had been there when he walked in, it had always been there. He opened the tome to the ivory sheet, the page containing the instructions for the spell of abominations he had forbidden himself from learning, and read.

    The knowledge poured into his mind, taking up space in his memory. The spell was his now, known and mastered, a small miracle bestowed upon him by the powers of the book. Magical energy pulsed in his fingertips, radiating through him and begging to be used.

    Jeremiah breathed deeply. The putrid air was ripe with possibility. His mind was calm, quiet for the first time in many months. No more deceit, no more confusion, no more fear. Walking away from the cult now to report what he¡¯d learned would just let more innocents die, would allow more chances for others to interfere with what he knew must happen. What he had the power to accomplish.

    He would deny his power no longer.

    The yawning sense of death drew him towards a heavy door at the far end of the room of cages. The door creaked on rusted hinges, and Jeremiah had to throw his bodyweight against it to force it open.

    The light from the door illuminated a mountain of bodies, bones, organs, and dismembered parts. Man and animal alike reposed in various states of decay, stacked and neatly oriented like cordwood. The pile was several times taller than he was, nearly reaching the ceiling, and longer than it was tall. Barrels lined the walls, and a monstrous grinder at one side of the room denoted its purpose of reducing all waste to a slurry.

    Jeremiah wasted no time. His fingers tingled with power, and he thrust his hands into the pile.

    The words came to him as though he¡¯d known them all his life. His sense of touch expanded outwards, encompassing the entire pile. Cold, wet flesh became clay under his will. In a singular force of will, he compressed it all, and the pile became a single mass, one colossal and horrible corpse melted together like a thousand wax candles.

    Rise.

    Jeremiah¡¯s knees buckled as he pumped magical necromantic energy into the immense corpse thing. Greater than the sum of its parts, more complex and more chaotic, it filled his mind like a massive solid object, no fragile bubble to be finessed and toyed with,

    The great bulk heaved as hundreds of hands and arms and feet stirred to life, contorted and rearranged within the mass, drawing upon the knowledge in Jeremiah¡¯s mind to form a great network of muscles. With an awful convulsion, it reared back and reached the ceiling, a tower of death, a hundred handed giant.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± said Jeremiah.

    The back wall of the warehouse exploded as the abomination crashed through, lurching its way forward like a millipede on a multitude of scrabbling arms, legs, hooves, and claws. Dozens more limbs thrashed and grasped at nothing, hundreds of yawning mouths and protruding heads lolled and moaned in a dull roar.

    The screaming began again. Jeremiah ignored it, and sent the giant through the next wall, where Gurg had indicated weapons were stored. Despite its mass, the giant moved with dizzying speed.

    The warehouse armory contained hundreds of spears, axes, hammers, swords, and crossbows. The giant crashed into the displays and seemed to absorb the weapons into itself, passing them from hand to hand until it was like a grotesque army unto itself. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Jeremiah took one spear of his own. A lifetime ago, he had failed to kill a man with a spear just like this. He would fail no more.

    The hundred handed giant tore it''s way free of the warehouse, splintering and shattering the facade with ease. ¡°I¡¯ll be back for you!¡± Jeremiah said to the caged people. He couldn¡¯t be sure if they heard him over their own wails, or whether his words sounded like a promise or a threat, but he had work to do.

    Following the train of destruction out to the city, Jeremiah soon found one of the alarm bells. He yanked the rope hard, ringing the bell five times. Then he turned towards his abomination. In the larger space, it reared back to its full height, easily as tall as a two-story building, and bristled with weapons.

    The abomination waited for him, quivering with anticipation, and Jeremiah climbed, the protruding limbs carrying him aloft. Atop his monstrous steed, he rode towards the nexus of the city. Answering alarm bells were beginning to echo in the cavernous expanse.

    The first militia members rounded a corner, weapons drawn to respond to the source of the alarm. Dozens of masked men and women skidded to a stop as their eyes fell upon the horror.

    The hundred-handed giant reared back, brandishing its weapons. A hundred mouths gnashed their teeth and moaned, a sickly chorus emanating from deep within the creature as the militia members looked on in stunned horror.

    Jeremiah looked down at their cowering from atop of his giant and was disgusted. ¡°I am everything you¡¯ve ever wanted!¡±

    The abomination surged forward. The hundred handed giant tore across the ground faster than a man could sprint. The militia members screamed and scattered.

    Most were crushed beneath the abomination¡¯s bulk, while those that fled were slaughtered by press of weapons that it wielded. Jeremiah sent acid balls towards the few that managed to retreat, taking grim satisfaction in their cries of pain. ¡°I am your victory! Rejoice, my will be done!¡± Their fear confused him. Isn¡¯t this what they wanted? Isn¡¯t this exactly what they wanted for him?

    Rise.

    From the bodies of the militia, he raised a swarm of skeletons and zombies, stacking bubbles into the space remaining in his mind. The abomination was soon thronged by undead, like flies around livestock.

    Kill.

    The hoard began to move.

    Wait.

    There were slaves here. Innocents.

    They would use them as shields, of course they would, and Jeremiah knew he couldn¡¯t distinguish between them through his thin connection with the undead.

    He looked down, frustration mounting. Was this it? Was he already shackled? He saw the faint lines traced in his armor, the perfect examples of control. Unknowable words, organized by a master¡¯s hand.

    No, he wasn¡¯t done yet.

    Jeremiah closed his eyes, focusing on his connection with the undead, and the expertise of enchanting that lived in his mind.

    Search; If masks, kill. Otherwise ignore.

    It was like writing in his mind, a script of intention born of the words he inscribed on metal and wood. They weren''t words he knew in terms of enchanting, but he understood how to express them.

    The undead began to move. They felt his intent, they were his intent.

    Jeremiah released his undead into the nearby buildings. They broke down doors, and tore to pieces any masked people inside. There were no innocents among the cult members, as far as he was concerned. If they were here, if they turned a blind eye to the evils surrounding them, they deserved to die. It was a sentence Jeremiah was more than willing to hand down.

    Buildings shook as the giant barreled onward. They were reaching more populated areas now. The first unsuspecting people were dashed to pieces before they even had a chance to comprehend what they were seeing. Jeremiah raised those bodies intact enough to become undead, and sent them to join the horde.

    The alarm bells began ringing again. Jeremiah welcomed it. Let people flee, let them hide, let them come and fight. It made little difference.

    The screams were rising now as Jeremiah sent the giant careening through the city streets, targeting the densest knots to trample and slashing at the rest.

    Then the skeletons and zombies came. They sought out the hiders, the errant runners, and the cowerers. Pulling them into the light and devouring them. Jeremiah watched in satisfaction as a zombie shoved aside a trio of slaves who had been interposed to protect their master. The zombie fell upon him as he screamed for aid, until his voice cut short when the zombies tore off his lower jaw. He died afraid, he died alone, and as the slaves ran, Jeremiah smiled.

    Rise.

    The bells clanged all over the city now. Jeremiah directed the giant towards the main entrance, where so many had already gathered in their attempt to escape. The hundred handed giant careened not into the tunnel, but against the wall around it. Smashing the chains to smithereens and sending great rocks tumbling down onto the people escaping. The giant whipped its bulk into the walls over and over again, Jeremiah hanging on for dear life, until the tunnel gave way and collapsed completely.

    There would be no escape.

    The market square now bustled with a very different energy as people fled before the giant¡¯s approach. Jeremiah urged it forward, crushing market stalls and cult members. He saw his undead struggling to breach a barricaded building. The giant reared up and threw itself down onto the roof, collapsing the building completely.

    There would be no refuge.

    Checking in with his undead, Jeremiah realized they were now encountering more unmasked people than not. Perhaps the number of cult members was truly dwindling, or perhaps some were catching onto the fact that only masked people were being targeted. If so, there was a simple enough solution.

    If no masks, bring here.

    The undead were not gentle. Dozens of people were carried, escorted and dragged to the square. Any that tried to flee were run down and dragged back again. Satisfied, Jeremiah dismounted the hundred-handed giant, bringing the spear with him. The giant would continue to rampage on its own. Jeremiah had other concerns.

 Chapter 54. Denial

    Chapter 54. Denial

    The heavy dark stone building sat silent, untouched by the death and chaos surrounding it. Jeremiah selected an escort of three skeletons to accompany him. He had yet to see any sign of Lyle, and if the man was still anywhere in the city, he¡¯d be here.

    The stone door awaited him, as before. Jeremiah withdrew his enchanting tools as he reached it and etched the missing lines into the stone with a few quick strokes. Adjusting for the circular indentation in the surface was hardly a challenge after working with the challenging geometry of gloves, armor, and weapons. With a quick charge of the diagram, the doors yielded to admit him.

    Jeremiah started through, then reconsidered. His escort stood sentinel as a group of skeletons chased down some cult members down the street. The air filled with their screams as the skeletons overtook them.

    Strengthen, If Strengthen, Strengthen

    The runes fit easily alongside the locking diagram on the stone door. He charged them, walked through, and threw the doors shut behind him. They exploded, stone shards flowing like rain down the stairs.

    ¡°Lyle!¡± shouted Jeremiah as he strode inside. ¡°Get out here and take what¡¯s coming to you!¡±

    But all that greeted him when he entered that circular room with the polished metal floor was that wrong-space of the Abyss, suspended in the center of the room, invisible yet as real as the hard adamantine beneath his feet. Its presence and its approval filled Jeremiah¡¯s mind for a moment, threatening to overwhelm him.

    ¡°Conquer, slay, lay waste,¡±  said the Abyss.  ¡°You are beautiful in your fury.¡±

    Jeremiah gritted his teeth and tried to close his mind to its influence. ¡°I¡¯ll deal with you soon.¡± He turned his attention instead to the three doors set around the perimeter of the room.

    Leaving one skeleton in the main chamber to alert him if Lyle attempted to escape, Jeremiah tried the first door. He was not at all surprised to discover that it led to a torture chamber. Barbed instruments of torment adorned the walls, and a brazier of coals containing pokers and brands still glowed with heat.

    At the center of the room, the remains of the most recent victim were still lashed to a large wooden rack. It was a half-elven girl, drawn and quartered, face still twisted in agony. Her skin bore evidence of the pain she¡¯d endured in her last hours, puckered burns and lacerations still oozing fluids. She was very fresh.

    Jeremiah wondered what he¡¯d been doing when she¡¯d died. Sitting around, feeling sorry for himself? Focusing on the mission so he wouldn¡¯t have to think about coming back to this place?

    His disgust at himself flared, then receded. He didn¡¯t commit this atrocity. Her fate wasn¡¯t his fault. Walking away from the cult, doing nothing and allowing things to continue¡ªthat would have been a failure.

    Jeremiah released the manacles that still held the girl¡¯s wrists and ankles and arranged her limbs in place beside her torso. He rested his hands gently against her marred skin and cast his new spell again. The body melded back together, once again whole.

    Rise. Follow.

    He would have use for her later.

    There was still no sign of Lyle, so Jeremiah continued onto the second door. This one featured a lock so basic even Jeremiah could pick it in a matter of minutes¡ªclearly Lyle had relied on the stone outer doors for security.

    With a click, the door gave way to reveal a treasure vault. Tiny chests were neatly arranged along shelves around the room, and a larger chest sat in the center of the floor. Jeremiah opened several of the smaller chests to find piles of silver and copper coins, with a few odd gold thrown in.

    The larger chest held the true treasure. Jeremiah heaved the lid open to discover gold and platinum trade bars, rolls of gold coins, tiny boxes containing gemstones and, sitting at the center of the chest, a familiar wicked-looking crown.

    Jeremiah withdrew the crown to inspect. Spears of gold reached upward, large gemstones twinkled in the torchlight. He had seen this crown once before, upon the head of Empress Aubrianna. In his hands was either the genuine item or a perfect copy of it. Lacking Bruno¡¯s expertise in appraising jewels, he couldn¡¯t be certain which he held, but he had a hard time imagining Lyle locking up a fake.

    He summoned a handful of zombies from outside to raid the treasury, stacking the smaller chests to be carried together and ordering two zombies to transport the larger chest between them. When he was ready, they would help him bring the riches to the surface.

    That left only one more room, and the last possibility of finding Lyle. Jeremiah gripped his spear as he turned the knob, prepared to thrust it into the other man¡¯s chest should the opportunity arise. His skeletons waited, similarly poised.

    He steeled himself and threw the door open with a shout, rushing into the room. But Lyle was not there. Jeremiah lowered the weapon to take in his surroundings. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    These were Lyle¡¯s personal quarters, without a doubt. The room was small but lavishly adorned, velvet tapestries and soft linens offsetting the austere stone architecture. It was a space that spoke of homeyness.

    Jeremiah confirmed that Lyle was not hiding anywhere in the room before turning his attention to the contents of the space. A corner bookshelf was stuffed full to bursting with arcane tomes, histories of Elminia and her noble families, and books on demonology. A worn, overstuffed chair suggested the countless evenings Lyle may have spent poring over the books.

    Something about the bookshelf caught Jeremiah¡¯s eye. There, the light dust that coated the books was missing in one spot, an area frequently disturbed. Jeremiah reached between  Heraldries Through the Ages  and  Summoning Vol 1: Souls and Spirits.  He half expected to find a trigger for a secret staircase, but instead he withdrew a tiny black leather-bound journal.

    Jeremiah flipped open the journal. It was handwritten in a text Jeremiah couldn¡¯t decipher, long passages written in either an unknown language or code. He did recognize enchantment runes, however, diagram designs with inscrutable notes written in the margins. Jeremiah tucked the notebook away to peruse later.

    He returned to the main chamber. Lyle may have escaped, but there was still a critical task before him. The skeletons¡¯ feet clattered across the adamantine floor as Jeremiah swept through to grab one of the specialized tools from the wall. It was a simple inscription knife made of the same black metal, designed for intricate work. He recognized a small strengthening rune on the blade.

    Jeremiah knew he had to inscribe close to the center, as close as he could bear to the wrong-space. As he approached, the whispers of Abyssal power became manifest, a voice speaking directly into his mind.

    ¡°Jeremiah Thorn. Necromancer. A slave in all but name. We can see the mountain of chains that burden you. Poor Jeremiah, poor scared Jeremiah. So scared, so strong. We have such sights to show you.¡±

    The whisper carried with it promises of boundless freedom and power. And happiness.

    Jeremiah stopped in his tracks, stymied by the wave of wholesome indulgence it imparted on his psyche.

    ¡° It¡¯s boundless, Jeremiah Thorn. The wretches use their freedom for acts of greed and wickedness. But within the infinite expanses of the Abyss, peace and tranquility can be found. Everything can be found.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­it¡¯s all in there?¡± asked Jeremiah. He didn¡¯t even know what it   was, only that it was anything and everything he¡¯d ever wanted. His hand drifted towards the wrong-space, moving of its own accord.

    ¡°It is, Jeremiah Thorn. You need only enter the rift. We will find it together. Everything you want, everything you ever will want. Everything forever.¡±

    Jeremiah¡¯s fingers brushed it, the wrong-space, and the call became overwhelming. It was the satisfaction of every desire, it was assurance, it was affirmation of everything he¡¯d ever wanted to believe about himself. His eyes fell closed as he basked in its glory. He needed this. He deserved it.

    Something thumped, hard, against his chest. He heard an angry croak. A tiny bastion of thought cloistered somewhere deep in his mind spoke up.

    Jeremiah withdrew his hand. ¡°I want to destroy you.¡±

    ¡°Thy will be done,¡±  said the Abyss.

    Jeremiah dropped to his knees and scratched at the adamantine floor. The entire surface was already covered in runes, and Jeremiah had to move the knife in deft, sure strokes to create his tiny additions, linking them through the lines of the existing diagram.

    It wasn¡¯t enough to simply mar the surface, that much could be undone. He had to destroy it entirely.

    Strengthen.   If Strengthen, Strengthen

    He etched the runes just prior to the terminal components near the rift. Jeremiah charged it, making it a part of the diagram. The same unconceivable power that was maintaining the wrong-space now flowed through his runes as well.

    Jeremiah faced the wrong-space and raised his spear overhead. The Abyss sang to him, praised him, welcomed him still. It wasn¡¯t too late, Jeremiah realized. He could still have all he desired, everything this life had denied him. The loneliness, the hate he had endured, the feelings of worthlessness¡ªall could be erased.

    ¡°But they are part of me ,¡± Jeremiah thought. ¡°Just as my friends and my magic and my decisions and my mistakes are part of me. This life is mine, and I desire no escape from it.¡±

    He thrust the spear point downward.

    The entire floor exploded like a pane of glass. The work of generations, meticulously cared for hundreds of years, shattered at the affront of a single moment of self denial.

    Jeremiah winced as metal shrapnel sliced at his legs. The wrong-space buckled and twisted, becoming momentarily visible as it writhed, then faded as reality slowly subsumed the flaw in its fabric.

    His ears rang from the explosion. He could feel blood dripping from where he¡¯d been hit by the chunks of adamantine that now littered the ground. Jeremiah listened for the whisper of the Abyss, worming into his thoughts. But there was only him now, and his undead, waiting in utter stillness.

 Chapter 55. Pay for it

    Chapter 55. Pay for it

    Jeremiah mentally checked in with his undead. Absent targets, the abomination patrolled, only occasionally breaking from its route to trample a foolish cult member who underestimated its speed. The zombies and skeletons continued combing through the city, now rarely encountering any living beings. Whatever remained of the cult and their slaves awaited him in the market square.

    He pulled even more zombies to pilfer the room. The sole exception being the journal, Jeremiah grabbed an errant bag from the treasury and took it for himself. As he departed he scooped up as much of the adamantine shards as would fit to fill out the bag.

    The city was nearly silent now. The hundred handed giant stood like a tower, motionless. Jeremiah saw a masked cult member run for the darkness beyond the city, only for the abomination to spring into action the moment the cultist was perceived, kill him, and return to its sentry.

    The slaves were huddled together, having escaped and found each other, slowly gathering in the city center.

    Jeremiah approached the knot of terrified survivors, that cowered at his presence., ¡°There are more in Gurg¡¯s warehouse. Free them and bring them here,¡± he commanded.

    ¡°Are you going to kill us?¡±

    ¡°Are we your slaves now?¡±

    ¡°My indenture contract was-¡±

    Jeremiah held up his hands, ¡°We¡¯re leaving. All indentures are void.¡±

    ¡°But my indenture contract says in the event of my master¡¯s death, it passes to-¡±

    ¡°Any who wish to contest the voiding of the indenture can speak to that thing,¡± said Jeremiah, pointing to the hundred handed giant.

    Soon enough the slaves were released and gathered. They were in pitiful shape, but the promise of freedom gave them the strength to at least limp their way to the gathering point.

    Jeremiah looked them over, Lyle was not among them. Neither was someone else.

    He sighed, fearing the worst, and went back to where he had last seen him. The streets were a bloody mess. Dozens, if not hundreds, of people had been crushed under the abomination. Those that hadn¡¯t been were torn to pieces by the undead. He came to the stall he had searched for, though it had been trampled to pieces.

    ¡°Masks. Not specific enough,¡± Jeremiah thought.

    The slaves he had met wore bags over their heads. The undead had not discerned between the masks of the cultists and the bags. Here, chained together, were the bodies of those who could not escape. It appeared they had suffered from the weapons of the abomination, hacked and smashed to pieces.

    And there was the boy. His tiny body lay amongst the others, still masked, a gaping hole in his chest.

    Jeremiah reached down and pulled off the bag that had covered his face.

    The man in the closet.

    ¡°No, this is a boy. He¡¯s his own tragedy, not my old one,¡± thought Jeremiah.

    The boy¡¯s yellowed, lizard like eyes bulged in confusion.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± said Jeremiah to the boy. ¡°You were an accident, but you weren¡¯t a mistake. I could have done better, but I didn¡¯t. I killed you. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    The boy didn¡¯t answer.

    Jeremiah lifted the boy up. He was feather light, small to begin with and now missing the weight of his own lifeblood. Jeremiah had handled many corpses in his day, but this one was different. He carried this one tight to his chest, gently, carefully, and took him to the awaiting slaves.

    There was a commotion, the slaves were gathered around a small figure and shouting. It was a gnomish woman in a red robe, but without a mask. She had apparently escaped the onslaught by guile or coincidence. She was tearful and shouting back at the people that held her in place.

    ¡°Please! I¡¯ve done nothing wrong! I was just selling coffee! I never took slaves or hurt anyone!¡± she cried. It was Madella, the girl who ran the cafe Jeremiah and Lyle had visited.

    ¡°Where is Lyle?¡± Jeremiah asked quickly.

    Madella looked Jeremiah up and down, quickly divining the situation, ¡°I don¡¯t know, I haven¡¯t seen him since he left. Please, I just sold coffee, I never did the bad stuff!¡±

    Jeremiah nodded, ¡°Just running a business.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    Madella nodded back emphatically, finding a sympathetic ear, ¡°Yes! I just wanted to make a little money, who doesn¡¯t?¡±

    Come.

    ¡°I¡¯ll let you plead your case,¡± said Jeremiah, ¡°the rest of you follow me, we¡¯re leaving. The Empress will extend her thanks to those of you who will speak with investigators to gather more information.¡±

    The woman Jeremiah had found, the one that had been tortured to death, appeared beside him. She carried a red hot iron poker in each hand.

    ¡°You can explain yourself to her,¡± Jeremiah said to Madella. Jeremiah lead the survivors of the cult toward the exit.

    Kill her.

    <hr>

    The procession through darkness paused as Jeremiah sensed a trapdoor above. His muscles ached, but he had strength enough for one more death. He reached his will just beyond the trapdoor.

    Rise.

    The slaves gasped at Nascent¡¯s screams, but Jeremiah smiled. He waited until the immense corpse finished tearing Nascent to pieces, then shifted its bulk away from the exit.

    The exodus of slaves was a slow and painful one. There were so many stairs and the slaves were so weak, but with patience and the help of the stronger slaves, they all were eventually able to reach the surface.

    The sun had risen. It felt glorious on Jeremiah¡¯s skin, like it was burning away the cruelty and evil he had been awash in. He could finally release all the undead under his command, save those hauling treasure that still followed their group. The bubbles of the zombies and skeletons popped easily enough, but the solid block that was the abomination clung to its existence. Instead of simply removing his will, he had to focus on it, chip away at the block until it was gone.

    The space in his mind was his again. He carried the boy despite the desperation in his body to set him down, and led the people through the Pit, ignoring the greetings and open-mouthed stares from the Stonefists. The survivors followed him without question. He was their hero, after all.

    Near the crest leading to the slums, Jeremiah turned to the crowd. ¡°I don''t have any answers for you,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you got here and I don¡¯t know where you should go from here. All I can do is give you another shot. There¡¯s enough here for all of you to get a fresh start.¡±

    He called forward the zombies carrying the coin chests and had them face the survivors.

    Dump it.

    In one motion, the zombies overturned the small chests, emptying their contents into the dirt. The survivors looked at the pile of coins, looked at Jeremiah, then tentatively began crowding around

    ¡°You''ve all been through the same hell together, try to remember that,¡± Jeremiah said as the survivors filled their pockets. Then he left, trailed by the two zombies carrying the adamantine and the larger chest between them.

    Jeremiah clutched the boy against his chest as he made his way through the streets towards home. The ceaseless river of people dammed and parted, the sight of a dead child enough to break their ceaseless pace.

    Allison was leaning against the wall of their building, cutting slices off an apple. She saw the boy in Jeremiah¡¯s arms, the zombies in their robes and masks, and the chest they carried, and gave Jeremiah a sad smile. ¡°You okay?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s over,¡± he said.

    ¡°I guess so. You want to take him upstairs?¡± said Allison, gesturing to the boy.

    ¡°I do. I¡ª¡± he choked on the words.

    ¡°I know, it¡¯s okay,¡± said Allison.

    Jeremiah carried the boy up the stairs. Each step felt arduous now, during the journey the boy¡¯s frail body had become intolerably heavy. He staggered at the final landing and caught himself, panting from exertion. His grip was slipping. The last thing he wanted was to let the body fall.

    Allison was there. ¡°Just a few more steps. Let it hurt. Pay for it.¡± She moved ahead to hold the apartment door open for him.

    Jeremiah gritted his teeth and pushed the pain from his mind. He forced his legs to move, squeezed his muscles till they seized, but didn¡¯t let go. He entered the apartment and knelt down, using the truly last vestiges of strength he had to lay the boy down gently.

    Bruno and Delilah were there, taking chests and sacks from the zombies. Allison knelt next to Jeremiah and put her arm around his shoulders.

    ¡°I know what it¡¯s like,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m going to take you to your room, okay? You need to rest. We¡¯ll talk about it when you¡¯re ready.¡±

    Jeremiah wanted to protest. He was sure he didn¡¯t deserve to rest right now. But he was tired, so very tired.

    He didn¡¯t bother to undress, merely placed Gus in his bowl and collapsed onto the bed. Sleep took him the moment his head hit the pillow, black and thankfully dreamless.