《Crippling Debt Isekai [Fantasy] [Slow-Burn Progression] [Gamelit]》 Chapter 1 - Winners and Losers However you look at it, people are divided into winners, and losers. Call it whatever you want, whatever terms help you sleep at night: the players and the NPCS, the awake and the asleep, the human beings and the automatons, the robots, the golems - whatever words you use, the meaning is the same. Some people are special, and some people aren¡¯t. I¡¯m not special. You need to know that before we start. - I¡¯d never felt more alone than I did at that moment. Afraid, confused, panicked, and lost - but more than anything, alone. I could feel the dry grass crunch under the feet of my suit as I ran. I tried my best to avoid the sandier patches, the ones I could easily slip on, sealing my fate. I was breathing heavy, hardly used to this sort of sprint. My suit said the air was breathable, so I pressed a finger to a button near my neck, activating the helmet release. I threw it off, exposing my face all at once to the foreign air. I sucked it in greedily. Behind me, a massive dust cloud was being kicked up, not by me, but by the white horse-sized monster chasing me, a creature reminiscent of a boar, but with uncurving tusks pointed straight forward like two medieval lances. The boar-thing did not make me feel less alone. Just that morning, I had woken up on the floor, in my own room, in my own dimension. Sure, the floor was uncomfortable, I was past-due on my share of rent for the room, and the dimension had never seemed to treat me particularly well - but I¡¯d never had to run for my life before. I wanted to turn around, catch a glimpse of Tom, and see what he was doing. I was certain that whatever it was, it was a better idea that what I was currently doing - running blindly, straight away from the monster. But I hadn¡¯t seen Tom before the boar-thing rushed me. And it was unlikely I could spot him now, through the dust. - That morning, up early before work, I had been in the living room, idly listening to an audiobook about Napoleon while throwing away old mail, when I spotted a piece that looked like it might actually not be spam. The bastards who sent spam got better and better at getting me to open their credit card offers and refinancing ploys, but Tom had given me some tips on how to spot them and not waste my time. Because it was a waste of time. Even these bottom-feeders wouldn¡¯t give me a loan anymore. Whatever the case, this one piece of mail in particular had looked important. I had time. I opened it. It was about my student loans, apparently. In light of recent federal policy changes, we must inform you that your debt is no longer in deferment. Please make your first payment of the below amount by March 25th¡­ ¡°What?¡± I said aloud to myself. I read it again. And again. There must be some kind of mistake, I thought. I grabbed my phone, paused the audiobook, and dialed the number printed at the bottom. After 20 minutes I got to a human being. I gave her my information. She pulled up my account. I asked my question. She repeated the bad news. I was screaming at her by this point. ¡°What the hell do you mean, I have to pay? I can¡¯t pay that! That¡¯s more than my entire salary every month! What happened to my loan being in deferment?¡± ¡°Sir, please calm down,¡± the woman repeated. ¡°I¡¯m just telling you the way things are. I didn¡¯t write the law.¡± ¡°Well who did?¡± I asked, as if that detail would help me somehow. ¡°Do you watch the news, sir?¡± I laughed, despite it all. What year does she think it is? ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Well, if you did, you would have heard about this. The new administration has reversed the policies of the previous ones. The deferments granted previously have been revoked. That¡¯s from the president, the senate, and the house, not me.¡± I didn¡¯t know how to argue with that. ¡°What happens if I don¡¯t pay?¡± I finally asked, softly. ¡°In the event that a borrower does not pay,¡± she said, like she was reading from a script, ¡°the borrower¡¯s wages will be garnished, up to and including the full dollar amount of the minimum monthly payment.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s all of it,¡± I said. I felt like crying. ¡°That¡¯s everything I make! Don¡¯t you leave me anything?¡± ¡°The full amount, sir,¡± the woman said. ¡°The full amount.¡± My mind was racing. I couldn¡¯t afford that. ¡°What am I supposed to do?¡± I asked. ¡°How am I- what- if- how am I supposed to live?¡± ¡°This is a student debt hotline,¡± the woman said, clearly fed up with me, ¡°not a life coaching service. How you manage is your own problem.¡± ¡°But I¡¯ll be homeless!¡± I was yelling again. ¡°I won¡¯t be able to pay rent, buy groceries, anything! Am I just supposed to starve?¡± ¡°The government provides many services for the less fortunate,¡± she said, coldly. ¡°Kitchens, shelters, all kinds of assistance for situations like these. I suggest you use them.¡± There was nothing left to say. I hung up. I sat there for awhile. If only I had more money, I thought. If only I was more successful. If only I was special. Everyone in my life has screwed me, because they could. The schools. My classmates. My job. And now the government. Even Tom, in some ways. The entire world has conspired to ruin my life. I hadn¡¯t noticed before, but Tom - my roommate, friend since childhood, idol, and now coworker - had walked into the room sometime during the call. He was sitting nearby, looking at me expectantly. ¡°Did you hear?¡± I asked him. ¡°Most of it,¡± he said. He looked nearly as sad as I felt. Not as angry, though. We sat in silence for awhile. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Tom said, eventually. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± I said, even though I didn¡¯t fully believe that. Another long pause. Then finally, Tom again: ¡°I think I know a way to fix this,¡± he said. He stood, walked over to me, and patted my shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work. I have something to show you.¡± What else could I do? I followed Tom. - Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°RENA!¡± I yelled, hoping beyond hope that the communicator hadn¡¯t fried on the way through, hoping that the predictions were correct and I could still send a signal back home. They had assured me over and over again that it would work. A voice, seeming to come from inside my own head, began to speak to me. ¡°Hello, Miles,¡± the cold, female-sounding voice said. ¡°Do you have something to send back already?¡± ¡°What do you think?¡± I asked. I stole a glance over my shoulder, even though I didn¡¯t think Tom would have, didn¡¯t think Tom would have doubted himself. The boar-thing was still charging. ¡°You can see what I¡¯m doing, can¡¯t you?¡± I didn¡¯t understand exactly how it worked, but the contact lenses I was wearing had more in them then just my prescription. They were actually tiny cameras, which wirelessly communicated with the device in my ear. ¡°That is correct, Miles,¡± the voice said. ¡°The feed is coming through clearly, audio and visual. But it isn¡¯t as if I can spend all day watching you.¡± I doubted that. The processor running RENA had more cores than any computer on the planet, apparently. I couldn¡¯t see how multi-tasking would be a problem. ¡°Well I¡¯m running for my life, RENA. In case you hadn¡¯t noticed.¡± ¡°I see that, Miles.¡± ¡°Well get me the hell out of here, RENA! Before I¡¯m skewered.¡± There was a pause. As if the AI was confused. As if the AI was thinking. I knew it was just a trick to make the user feel like the AI was a real person. It annoyed me. ¡°I would like to clarify, Miles: are you asking to abandon the mission?¡± RENA asked. ¡°Yes!¡± I screamed. ¡°I am asking you to get me the hell out of here!¡± ¡°Are you sure you would like to abandon the mission?¡± RENA asked again, reminding me of the screen you get when you try to quit a video game. ¡°This action would void your contract with Dimen-X in regards to your loan repayment.¡± ¡°What? Why? I just want you to take me out and put me back in. Preferably somewhere that doesn¡¯t have a bloodthirsty pig waiting for lunch.¡± ¡°That isn¡¯t in the plan,¡± RENA responded. ¡°I would have to get approval. If you wish, I can consult my approval matrix and schedule a meeting-¡± I¡¯ll be dead by then, I thought. ¡°Fine, never mind! Just patch me through to Tom.¡± Another artificial pause. My chest was hurting now. My throat felt hot, scratchy. ¡°I am unable to complete that request at this time.¡± ¡°RENA, this is not the time! Don¡¯t you do this to me, don¡¯t you screw me like this!¡± ¡°Miles, I am not refusing you. I have attempted to patch you through, and was unable to.¡± ¡°RENA, are you telling me that I can talk to you from another fucking dimension, but you can¡¯t patch me through to Tom, who is probably still right where we entered?¡± ¡°That is correct, Miles. I have lost contact with Tom¡¯s feed.¡± Despite the heat and the sweat, my blood froze. ¡°What do you mean? What happened to Tom?¡± It felt as if my last hope was being pried out of my dying hands. ¡°I have no audio, video, or any biometric data incoming. I cannot confirm Tom¡¯s current status. It is possible his communicator malfunctioned during the trip. There are also other possibilities.¡± Where the fuck are you, Tom? Taking a nap? Hiding? Leaving without me? I¡¯m not letting you abandon me again. This parasite isn¡¯t letting go, damnit. Not now. - Once we had arrived at the Dimen-X building, Tom said he had to get to a meeting, but that he would meet back up with me shortly. I went to my desk, answered some emails in the meantime, tried to act like it was a normal workday. Eventually - a couple hours later - he found me, and we took the elevator down. Down to the lab, the one where he had built RENA - and the others before that model - and where he was now using RENA¡¯s computational power to pursue the company¡¯s real goal - whatever that was. I¡¯m sure I could have figured it out, if the meeting notes didn¡¯t put me to sleep with buzzwords. But I didn¡¯t care enough. He brought me to a room that looked more like the lair of a mad scientist than the laboratory of a cutting-edge start-up. Ignoring the strange, twisted forms of metal and circuitry, ignoring the flashing computer screens and discarded VR headsets, he brought me immediately to what looked like an empty metal door frame. A desk was set up next to it, the monitor on it showing what looked like a high-desert landscape. And I get to spend all day upstairs in a cubicle, editing the AI-generated transcripts from pointless, endless meetings. Same degree, same college, same grades. And yet he¡¯s on the inside, and I¡¯m not. What¡¯s your secret, Tom? What am I missing? ¡°I was going to tell you soon, anyway,¡± Tom said. ¡°Thought you might be interested in coming with. I already spoke to Rhett. He liked the idea better than trying to get convicts.¡± Rhett, I thought to myself, focusing on the detail I understood. He¡¯s talking about Rhett Nash. The billionaire. The founder of the company. He¡¯s talking about him like he¡¯s an old friend. First name, no Mr. Nash, nothing. ¡°Look at the monitor, Miles. Do you see that?¡± I looked. It was still a desert landscape. Cracked earth, dry grass yellowed by the sun, blue sky without any clouds. ¡°You brought me here to show me your screensaver?¡± I asked. ¡°That, Miles, is another dimension.¡± I snorted. ¡°Very funny, Tom. Do you have a way to help me pay my debt payment this month, or not? If not, I should get back to work.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not joking, Miles. We sent a camera through, and were finally able to get the feed to send back. RENA tried countless times before it worked. That is a live feed from another dimension.¡± I looked again. ¡°It looks like a live feed from Arizona.¡± ¡°This is what Rhett was looking for this whole time. This is it. It was all hypothetical before, but now - now they want to send someone in.¡± ¡°Someone with nothing to lose,¡± I finished. Dots were starting to connect in my head. Convicts. The debt. Human experimentation. A lot of the buzzwords used in the meetings made sense, suddenly. Vague allusions suddenly given context. I knew Tom well enough to know he was telling me the truth. ¡°Let¡¯s say you¡¯re not pulling my leg. Let¡¯s say this is really a portal to another dimension. You want me to go through because I¡¯m disposable, is that it? A guinea pig?¡± ¡°I got them to agree to pay your debts off,¡± Tom said. ¡°If you bring back something of value, they¡¯ll give you a commission and put it towards your debt payments.¡± ¡°What good will that be when I¡¯m dead, Tom? We¡¯re talking about - I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m saying this - we¡¯re talking about another dimension. Does the air even have oxygen in it? Does gravity work the same way, or will we just float away into other-dimensional space? What about temperature, pressure, radiation?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve tested-¡° ¡°Fuck you, we¡¯ve tested. Why aren¡¯t you going in, Mr. genius inventor?¡± ¡°I am,¡± Tom said. ¡°I volunteered already.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Tom smiled. I could see him shimmering, right then. I could see that barely-perceptible spark, the little details that told me he was a special, important person. Unlike me. ¡°It¡¯ll be easy, Miles. In-and-out, just like that. Anything we bring back is bound to be worth a fortune. We¡¯ll go in - grab some precious gem, or some fruit that doesn¡¯t exist on Earth, or some cute furry animal we can sell as an uber-exotic pet to the elites - and then leave. And we¡¯ll be rich. You can pay off your debts and then some. Unless you¡¯ve got a better plan.¡± I didn¡¯t have a better plan. I had no idea how else I could scrounge up enough money to avoid starving. Maybe Tom would lend me money for rent for awhile - shit, unless he¡¯s not even in this dimension - but I couldn''t get him to pay everything. Eventually I¡¯d be on the streets, sooner rather than later. I guess that settles it, I thought. Also, I have to admit, the idea of striking it rich was deeply alluring. I thought about the photo, and about escaping. And about having no debt weighing down my every thought. I sighed. ¡°If you¡¯re in,¡± I said. ¡°I guess I¡¯m in too. Sounds simple enough. For inter-dimensional travel, that is.¡± He smiled again. ¡°Happy to hear that, friend. There¡¯s no one I¡¯d rather go with.¡± ¡°Me neither,¡± I said. I certainly meant it. - For the first time in what felt like years, I couldn¡¯t just do what Tom did. I couldn¡¯t try to ride his coattails into success - into college, into Dimen-X. I couldn¡¯t even ask him for advice. But I need to, I thought. Or else I¡¯m going to fuck everything up again. I couldn¡¯t keep going. I was running off of adrenaline, but my body was telling me it was time to stop. It was telling me this quite loudly. I could only press my body into service for so long. Soon, it would start disobeying orders. I had an idea. ¡°RENA,¡± I said again. ¡°Yes, Miles?¡± ¡°You were programed by Tom, right?¡± ¡°That is correct.¡± ¡°So you kind of think like Tom, right? You¡¯re based on his thought processes, right?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not certain I comprehend what you¡¯re asking me, Miles.¡± Can an AI be special? I thought to myself. Can an AI have a spark? Can it borrow one, at least, like I do? What other hope do I have? ¡°RENA, I need you to tell me right away, as quickly as you can: what do you think Tom would do in this situation?¡± ¡°I am operating on incomplete information,¡± RENA said. ¡°But I think he would probably stop running and utilize the firearm that each of your suits was equipped with.¡± The gun. I felt like an idiot - which is what always happened with Tom, when he pointed out the obvious solution I had missed. Good enough for now, I guess. Let¡¯s kill this thing and find Tom. I stopped in my tracks, spun around on my heel, and drew the revolver from my hip. The revolver clashed with the futuristic suit I was wearing, but it was deemed, because of its simplicity, to be less likely to get damaged or jammed in transit between dimensions than something more complex. The boar-thing - Tom¡¯s cute furry animal, I thought - was perhaps 100 feet away, maybe more. It wasn¡¯t the fastest animal, but it was persistent, and didn¡¯t look anywhere near as winded as I was. I took aim. Chapter 2 - I Am Tom A few days earlier¡­ The worst part of the day is when I wake up, slink over to the bathroom, and see myself looking back at me in the mirror. Someday, I thought, when the world is fair, I¡¯ll wake up and see him in the mirror, instead of me. Until then, I¡¯d have to make do. I hopped in the shower, braced myself, and set the water as cold as it would go. My heartbeat rose, and my breathing quickened, but I just managed not to scream when the water hit me. I hated cold showers. Despised them, in fact, but it was part of the routine. He took cold showers, after all. I scrubbed myself with the same soap brand he used, and used the same shampoo, even though I hated the smell and it made my head itch. When I got out of the shower, I dried myself off, wrapped the towel around my waist, and continued the ritual. I pulled a small box out from a drawer, hidden beneath some old clothes. I had previously stored it under the bed, but he started sleeping on the ground, so I had to move it. I also had to start sleeping on the ground, naturally. My back was still adjusting. I unlocked the latch, and pulled out my supplies. Pictures of him. Twelve, to be exact. Each one representative of a different feature which would need to be corrected. There were also notes. ¡°Say good morning before noon, and say hello after.¡± ¡°Laugh at your own jokes.¡± ¡°Always be smiling.¡± They were important reminders. I arranged my references and notes around the outside of the bathroom mirror, so that they surrounded my own, inferior image. First, my hair. I had to get to it before it dried too much. He didn¡¯t worry about his hair, wore it in a sort of perpetual bedhead style that made him look somewhere between a homeless person and a male model. It took me twenty minutes of styling to achieve the same look. I was getting faster. Then came skin care. Again, he wasn¡¯t the type to use any sort of product, but I had slightly worse skin than he did, and needed to soften up to get the look right. I also slipped in a pair of contact lenses. My vision was fine - so was his - but his eyes were a slightly brighter shade of blue. A simple fix. After that, I pulled out my phone, punched in my password, opened up a disguised app, punched in another password, and started playing my morning playlist, which I had made personally. It was full of shitty shoegaze songs - his favorite genre - over which I had edited in recordings of his voice. You can never hear the lyrics in those songs anyway, so I saw it as an improvement. As I worked, I spoke along with the words, trying to match his tone, intonation, accent, pronunciation, everything. I applied his brand of deodorant, and brushed my teeth with the same brand of toothpaste. I didn¡¯t know which details were important, and which details weren¡¯t, so I didn¡¯t take any unnecessary risks. Then came clothes. I picked out a muted-blue button-up shirt, and a dark pair of jeans that was nearly black. He would be wearing the green shirt today, I predicted. It used to be, on occasion, that we would end up wearing the exact same outfit, which was much too suspicious, but I had recently noticed that he seemed to cycle through his clothes one after another, in seemingly the same order, so I was testing that theory and trying to stay on the opposite side of the cycle. He hadn¡¯t noticed this about himself - it was something he did subconsciously. But I noticed. When that was done, I returned to the mirror and practiced my expressions. The smile. The eyebrow raise. The scrunching of the face. He was a very expressive man, and I was not, by nature, so this step took the longest. Then, I paused the playlist. Finally, the affirmations. ¡°You are Tom. You are happy. You are successful. You are effective. Things work out for you, and always will work out for you. You are optimistic. You see the bright side in everything. You are special. You are Tom.¡± I said the words aloud, over and over again until I almost believed them. I also did one thing that was not part of the plan. I did it every day, but still, it wasn¡¯t part of the plan, wasn¡¯t part of him. I took the final picture out of the box. It was a photograph that I had printed out. To the right was the edge of a large wooden house - two stories, spacious but still cozy. You could just see the chimney in frame, and just looking at it gave me visions of snowy days spent indoors around the fireplace, sipping hot cocoa and reading. But it wasn¡¯t snowing at the time of the picture. In the left two-thirds of the image, a field of flowers was blooming. Behind them, far off in the distance, a wall of trees. Above that, a precious blue sky. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Right in the middle, there were people. Children, running out into the field of flowers. I could practically hear them, laughing and yelling and playing. A little behind them, trying to keep up, was a beautiful woman in a sun dress. Her head was turned back towards the camera, as if asking the person taking the picture ¡°aren¡¯t you coming?¡± She was smiling. She was happy to be there, with her family, with the man taking the picture. She loved them all, unconditionally. And if you looked very, very closely at the one window visible on the house, you could see the reflection of the man taking the photo. You probably wouldn¡¯t ever notice it unless someone pointed it out to you, but it was there. It was my face. My real, actual face. That had been the hardest part to get right, when I was creating this image on my computer. It took hours and hours of editing before I got everything looking right. Before it looked just the way it did in my dreams. ¡°Someday,¡± I said to myself. Then I gathered my supplies, returned them to their box, locked it, double-checked that it was locked, and returned it to its hiding spot. On the way out of my room, I made sure to lock the door as well. Just to be safe. Then I double-checked it. Locked. In the kitchen, I prepared no food, even though I was starving, even though I had a headache, even though my stomach was growling and my mouth was watering at the thought of eggs or bacon or anything. He didn¡¯t eat breakfast. I took a moment to curse his name, and poured myself a glass of water. Just then - as always - my roommate walked in. ¡°Good morning, Miles,¡± he said, with that dumb fucking smile on his face. ¡°Good morning, Tom,¡± I replied, with the same dumb smile. He was wearing the green shirt, just as I had predicted. - At work, people in suits told me to jump, and I asked how high. I was responsible for looking over the meeting transcripts, call transcripts, and other material generated by our in-house AI. Which means I was training my replacement. That day, like every day, I thought that I should go to my manager and ask for that promotion. But I didn¡¯t. It¡¯s a startup, I told myself. I¡¯m lucky to have gotten in at the ground floor. The money will come. Tom said it¡¯ll come. When there weren¡¯t transcripts to review, I got the coffee. It isn¡¯t worth dwelling on. After work, Tom dropped me back at the house. He was going to hit the gym. I wasn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t copy literally everything Tom did. As I said, I couldn¡¯t know for sure which parts were important and which weren¡¯t, but I could make some educated guesses when necessary. Tom lifted weights, but he hadn¡¯t done that in the past, and the change didn¡¯t seem to have had any major effect on his success - in any field - compared to before, when he had just been rowing and doing body weight exercises. With other things, I could see the change. Ever since he¡¯d started sleeping on the floor, his posture had improved, for instance. Besides, I hated lifting weights. It made me feel like a slave building a pyramid, and not even getting paid for carrying the stones. That hit a little too close to home. But I had to do something. I couldn¡¯t just let Tom get muscular, and not be muscular myself. That would obviously mess up the whole plan. So I used steel mace training instead. Tom dropped me off, and I went inside, changed into my workout clothes, and went into the backyard. I grabbed the mace on the way out. It was a simple, pure-black mace. Really just a big metal stick with a big heavy ball on the end, not like some medieval weapon or anything. But I found it much more enjoyable than lifting weights. I swung the mace around my head. The movement involved gripping it in both hands, lifting it up over one shoulder, swinging it like a pendulum behind my back to be behind the other shoulder, then pulling it over back to the front, now on the other side. Then, reverse. The pulling motion worked the same muscles you would use trying to flip someone in wrestling or judo. Other movements I did during the workout were more similar to swinging a sword, which is apparently what the exercises were made for way back when. Not that I was a martial artist. And I certainly never expected to swing a sword. It was just a fun workout. I screamed during the entire thing. I screamed especially loud when I was smashing the mace into an old tire. Being Tom was stressful, and I needed the release. That was the main reason I did steel mace instead of lifting weights, if I¡¯m being honest. That day, as occasionally happened, one of our neighbors stuck his head over the fence. I knew he wanted to complain. I ignored him, and continued swinging, and screaming. Internally I dared him to say something. He must have thought better of it, and ducked back behind his fence. Coward, I thought, but I didn¡¯t mean the neighbor. I was mad at myself for being so meek out in public, and so hypocritically brash when swinging a hunk of steel around. When I was finished, I went back inside to play videogames. I played mostly puzzle games, strategy games, and especially anything that required planning, resource management, or any sort of crafting. When I was younger, I had some naive idea that playing these games would somehow make me smarter, or better at planning. Now I just played them to relax. Luckily, Tom also liked videogames, so I didn¡¯t have to try to justify this one to myself. This time, we played a multiplayer game together in the living room. I didn¡¯t have other friends. Not even online pseudo-friends. Neither did Tom, though, so it was fine. When it was getting late, I retreated into my room, locked the door, and began to search for questionable videos online. You know the type. I would usually try to find ones that featured women who looked like the woman in the photo. Blond, thin, bubbly. That wasn¡¯t hard. Some nights, however, my loyalty waned, and I went for novelty. Things got very strange on those nights. That night, though, I went with the former. I didn¡¯t know what Tom watched. I¡¯d broken into his room while he was at the gym once, checked his computer. But either he knew how to cover his tracks, or he didn¡¯t watch them at all, which I thought was more likely. I had tried that before. It didn¡¯t work. I hoped that wasn¡¯t the key. After abusing myself to the videos, I cried. I almost always cried. If I had watched a video for novelty, I cried out of shame. If I watched a video with a photo-woman look-a-like, I cried out of loneliness. And also shame. I deleted my history, shut my laptop, and prepared for bed. I wiped my tears away. In bed, I stared at the ceiling, trying to sleep, but unable. After fifteen minutes or so, the melancholy passed, and I was able to calm down. I reviewed the day, comparing myself to Tom, checking to see where things had lined up, and where they hadn¡¯t. Then I cheered up. I had copied him well today. I smiled to myself. I thought about the money I¡¯d be making at work soon. The success that was coming my way, because I was sticking to the plan. Soon, Tom would make me rich, and I could afford to buy that house from the photograph. ¡°Good job today, Miles,¡± I said. I fell asleep, content. I knew that I was on the right path. Chapter 3 - Aliens I¡¯d never been a good shot. I thought, however, that a target that big, at that close of a range, would be more or less unmissable. After the first shot went wide, whizzing harmlessly past the boar-thing¡¯s left tusk, I was slightly concerned. I wished I had gone to the range more, done more target practice - or just been born with better aim. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. I tried to steady my breathing. Tried to stay calm. Remembered old tricks the instructor had told me, in the now insufficient-seeming training I had received just before leaving. I visualized success. I visualized the bullet leaving the gun, and embedding itself deep into the skull of the monster - the monster which was growing closer by the moment. I visualized blood spraying out of the bullet hole, and the bullet rattling around inside, scrambling the brain. While my mind¡¯s eye saw success, my real eyes saw the slobbering beast, unfazed by a second bullet hitting the ground off to its right. I had over-corrected. After the third bullet missed, I started to pray. After the fourth and fifth - all of these shots happening within seconds, despite the illusion of slow motion - I started to tremble in fear. After the sixth and final shot missed, I simply closed my eyes, as if the monster would go away if I couldn¡¯t see it. I guess this is it, I thought. I guess this is how I die. I braced myself, and tried not to be jealous of all the people who, at that very moment, weren¡¯t getting impaled. But the impact didn¡¯t come. Instead, I heard a sound like the whistling of wind in a violent storm, and, suddenly, squealing. Loud, desperate squealing, like a death rattle. Based on how fast the thing had been moving, it should have hit me by then. I opened my eyes. The boar was still running towards me, carried by it¡¯s own momentum, but had slowed. One curious quill now stuck out from its side - an arrow. Blood was spotting the ground beneath it. Then, in a flash, more arrows flew in - a dozen, at least - and the pig let out another squeal as it was struck. Not a single arrow missed. It seemed like the earth shook as the beast fell. It had still had enough momentum that its body slid forward a little ways on the desert floor, leaving a streak of blood in the dirt. My first thought: I¡¯m alive! My second thought: Aliens. We had discussed the possibility that this dimension could be inhabited, but RENA had said there was, at that time, no evidence of habitation. A possibility? Sure. But I don¡¯t think I - or Tom, for that matter - ever actually thought we¡¯d be running into other people, let alone some degree of civilization. But the arrows stood defiantly atop the corpse, shouting the truth: this world was inhabited. Not just by monsters, but by sentient life. I turned to the direction the arrows had flown from, towards where the dirt floor transitioned quickly to sand dunes. I caught my breath. The creatures I saw looked human. Human-ish. As if some childish, other-dimensional god had taken the human template, and stretched it out in grotesque ways for its own strange amusement. There were four of them, gliding over the sand. Gliding. They looked to be about the height of tall men - hard to tell from a distance, but over 6 feet, certainly. Bone-thin, like skeletons draped with skin, which hung loose from their arms like sails. That skin - which reminded me of a flying squirrel in a way which turned my stomach - caught the wind, and seemed to be how they moved so quickly over the landscape. Each one had a deep tan, and ears that ended in points like fantasy elves. They wore sand-colored robes that billowed behind them as they moved, and held dark bows, possibly wooden. Not seeming to take a single step, they were carried towards me by the wind, which seemed to blow around them as if they could control it. Suddenly they stood before me - two men, and two women, looking like old corpses. Just as I was trying to come to terms with alien life - other-dimensional life, rather - I was shocked again as their bodies started to shift. The loose skin that hung from their arms shrunk, and as it did, their anorexic thinness was lessened, as if they were fattening up before my eyes, redistributing their body mass. Their faces changed from skin pulled tight over skulls, to real, human-looking faces. For the men, their arms, which were formerly wiry and veiny, filled up a solid inch or two, going from deathly, to merely lean. The women changed similarly, though some of the change went to their busts as well. They had sharp, gaunt features, but were attractive, like starved models. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. The shocks did not cease - part of me wondered if they ever would - because the one in front - the leader, perhaps - spoke to me. And I understood it. ¡°We have saved you,¡± the man said, voice like a drum. Short, direct speech, stilted and without emotion - but English. I only blinked. ¡°Do you understand me?¡± the man asked. I was suddenly aware I was still gawking at the four of them. I nodded. It was only later that I realized this dimension may not interpret nodding the same way we do, but the man seemed to understand me. ¡°Can you speak?¡± he asked. Two of his entourage merely stood behind him, listening. The last one - a woman - had wandered away, and was squatting near the fallen monster. She held up her index finger, and as I watched, the fingernail on it impossibly grew and sharpened until it resembled a knife. She brought it to the neck of the animal. I looked away. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Good. I am Olim. You?¡± ¡°My name is Miles.¡± ¡°Miles.¡± He nodded, as if this were acceptable to him. ¡°You owe us your life, Miles.¡± I laughed at his directness, even if I was still taken aback by the situation. ¡°I suppose I do. Thank you.¡± There was a pause. Olim looked at me sideways, as if he expected more. ¡°You are a traveler, yes? You are not from here.¡± ¡°I come from very far away,¡± I replied. It was true, though purposefully unspecific. I didn¡¯t know if I wanted to start telling people I was from another dimension just yet. ¡°I see. Then you do not know the way of the world, yes?¡± ¡°I guess I don¡¯t, no.¡± Olim nodded again. ¡°That explains it. Do you know who we are?¡± I shook my head. ¡°We are the Cho¡¯l. We have saved you. You must now take responsibility, as is our way. The scale must be rebalanced.¡± I didn¡¯t like the sound of that. I stole a glance at the direction I had come from, while running. I didn¡¯t see Tom - or much of anything, besides a gnarled tree - which looked like a mesquite - which I think I had been near when I had gotten to this world. I needed to go look for Tom. He could be injured. ¡°I am extremely grateful for your help,¡± I said. ¡°But I have nothing to repay you with. I¡¯m lost, and I¡¯m broke. Seriously, I am super broke.¡± Olim merely shook his head. ¡°This is not true,¡± he said. ¡°You have strange weapon.¡± He pointed to the revolver, which I still held in my hand. ¡°This?¡± I asked. I did not want to give up my only weapon. ¡°This is nothing. You saw how well it worked just now. This thing is worthless.¡± ¡°Only because you missed,¡± Olim said. Is my incompetence that obvious? ¡°And I want it.¡± I shook my head. ¡°I can¡¯t give you this. I¡¯m sorry, but I need it.¡± Besides, I thought to myself, I don¡¯t even want to think about all the ramifications of giving these people a firearm. Dimen-X never said anything about it, but it doesn¡¯t seem like I should be changing the course of history like that. They seem to be basically medieval in technology. Olim frowned. ¡°You are a foreigner, so I will forgive your ignorance. You do not choose. I choose. We have saved your life. This is the cost of your life. If you want your life, you pay the debt.¡± ¡°I seem to have a knack for getting into debt,¡± I muttered to myself. Olim didn¡¯t respond to that. Part of me - the most dangerous part - thought about my odds. The gun was empty, but I had more ammunition stored in my suit. Could I reload it in time, and shoot these four? I sized the group up. I was outnumbered. Outclassed. Basically unarmed. I looked over at the woman near the corpse. She had her mouth pressed against the neck of the animal, and was drinking down big gulps of blood, her body filling out as she did. I don¡¯t have a chance in hell. I sighed. At least Tom still has a gun. I¡¯ll be fine when I find him. ¡°Here,¡± I said, handing him the gun. ¡°My debt is paid.¡± Olim took it gingerly, turning it over in his hands, examining it. ¡°You are an enchanter, yes?¡± ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know what that means.¡± Olim¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You do not- your magic. How do you use it?¡± Magic. Maybe that¡¯s how they did that weird skin stuff before. If I had that kind of power, getting money from this world would be easy. Instead, I¡¯m not even an hour in and I¡¯m worse off than I started. ¡°I don¡¯t have any magic,¡± I said. Olim turned his head, meeting eyes with one of his companions. The woman shook her head. Olim looked at me again. ¡°I feel pity for you, traveler,¡± he said. ¡°You are ignorant of magic. You are weak. Helpless. But a debt is a debt. And this weapon does not pay it. Take off your armor.¡± I¡¯m an idiot, I thought. I handed him my only weapon, and so now he¡¯s robbing me. Magic? Yeah, if I could light you on fire this would be going a lot differently, let me tell you. What could I do? I stripped, taking off the suit, folding it up, and handing it to my robber. I stood there in a pair of boxers and an undershirt. The only silver lining was that the communicator was in my ear, not a part of the suit. It was tiny, and skin colored, so it was extremely unlikely they would notice it. ¡°Do you have anything else?¡± Olim asked. ¡°No,¡± I lied. If I lost the communicator, I was truly dead. He nodded. ¡°This will have to do, then. If you want to live, traveler, you must grow stronger. This has happened because you are weak. Study yourself. Learn your magic.¡± ¡°You just robbed me!¡± I yelled, now properly pissed off at this criminal trying to give advice. ¡°I¡¯m in my fucking skivvies, dude, how the hell am I supposed to ¡®grow strong?¡¯ You¡¯re leaving me here to die. This isn¡¯t my fault, this is your fault.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Olim said. ¡°You will probably die. Because your type seldom learns. But it was my life to give, or take, at my chosen cost. If you do not wish to be a slave to the choices of others, you must live your own life. I wish you favorable winds, traveler. Your best chance, if you must¡± he said, pointing, ¡°is to head to Eraztun. Many weak people gather there for survival. Head in that direction until you hit the road, and follow it.¡± And with that, they departed, leaving behind a half-naked man and a monster¡¯s thin corpse, drained of blood. They spread their arms like wings, drained themselves into their sail-arms, and glided off into the desert. The wind carried them away, even though I had felt no wind at all where I was standing. I had thought about asking them if they had seen another traveler, but had decided against it. That would only have resulted in us both getting robbed. Tom - lucky as always - had sat this one out. We¡¯d regroup, and maybe get Dimen-X to transport some replacement gear for me. They¡¯d listen to Tom. This world is dangerous, I thought to myself. Dangerous and strange. If I was stronger, a better aim - or had powerful magic, like Olim said - maybe that could have gone differently. If I was more clever. If I was Tom. ¡°Nothing to do now but find him,¡± I said aloud. ¡°He¡¯ll know what to do. He always does.¡± I started walking, passing by the bloodless body of the monster, trying not to think of my place beneath it, at the bottom of the food chain. Chapter 4 - Is It Me? I attempted to retrace my steps. I hadn¡¯t exactly been worrying about where I was going as I ran, but I was pretty sure that we had come into this world next to the gnarled tree in the distance, so I made for that. ¡°Tom!¡± I shouted as I went. ¡°Tom, are you there? It¡¯s Miles! If you can hear me, say something! It¡¯s safe to come out, Tom! They left!¡± No answer came immediately, but I kept trying. I scanned my surroundings in all directions as I went. It was truly desolate. From the direction the ¡°Cho¡¯l¡± came from, the flat, high desert landscape turned to sand dunes. In all other directions lay the same dry, cracked earth, interspersed with dry shrubs and dead grass. But apparently, in one direction was ¡°Eraztun,¡± whatever that was. In that direction I thought I could make out mountains, far off in the distance. There did not seem to be anywhere to hide, except maybe behind the tree. A niggling thought: Tom wouldn¡¯t hide. As I approached, still yelling, I saw nothing. No footprints, nothing left behind, no Tom. ¡°Tom!¡± I yelled again, louder, as loud as my worn lungs could muster. ¡°Please Tom, it¡¯s me! Where are you?¡± There was no answer. The gnarled tree only stared at me, part of its bark looking like a mocking face. ¡°RENA,¡± I asked, knowing that some small part of ¡°her¡± was probably always listening. ¡°What the hell happened to Tom?¡± ¡°I have already told you, Miles,¡± RENA responded. ¡°I have received no data from Tom since your arrival.¡± Part of me felt foolish, knowing that anyone who stumbled upon me right then would see a half-naked man yelling at himself. But I hoped I wasn¡¯t so unlucky as to have another group of thieves run into me. ¡°What the hell does that mean, RENA? Is he still back home? Did he get transported somewhere else?¡± Is he, I couldn¡¯t quite get out, is he still alive? ¡°Are you asking for a supposition, Miles?¡± ¡°Sure, yes, fine, give me a supposition.¡± I was pacing now, nervously. ¡°Okay, Miles. As discussed before transport, the movement of mass between dimensions is extremely energy intensive, as well as being somewhat unstable. The larger the mass, the larger the energy cost, but on the other hand, the more energy used, the less likely the chance of lossage. This analysis was made based on the results seen in previous tests, when it was attempted to send cameras through the portal. 87% of the time, the cameras would not send a feed, leading Tom to conclude that they were being lost in transmission.¡± ¡°RENA, hold on a second.¡± ¡°Paused. Yes, Miles?¡± ¡°Are you telling me that we got sent through a portal with a fucking 87% failure rate?¡± ¡°Of course not, Miles. That would be foolish. May I continue?¡± ¡°Fine.¡± ¡°Tom, with the help of my analysis, determined that we were simply not using enough energy to ensure a stable transmission. The expense rose exponentially, but as we increased the energy given to the machine powering the portal, the rate of success increased as well.¡± ¡°So what were the chances?¡± ¡°That is a complicated question, Miles.¡± I sighed. ¡°I need to find Tom, RENA, so I need to understand what happened. I¡¯ve got the time. What the fuck else have I got going on?¡± ¡°I detect a rhetorical question. Would you like me to answer?¡± ¡°No, RENA, just tell me what our chances of ¡®lossage¡¯ were.¡± ¡°As I said, the more stable we made the transmission, the more exponentially expensive the transmission became. Therefore, a cost-benefit analysis was done, to determine the point of diminishing returns. This point, for Tom, gave what we believed to be a 97% chance of success. Or, in other words, a 3% chance of failure.¡± This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°Are you saying that Tom could have had better chances, but you determined that it wasn¡¯t worth the money?¡± ¡°That is one way of phrasing it, Miles. Would you like me to continue?¡± ¡°Can you just answer the first damn question I asked, already? What does failure actually mean, RENA? What happened to Tom?¡± Then something she said struck me. ¡°And what do you mean, ¡®for Tom?¡¯¡± ¡°I mean only that the estimated failure chance was for Tom, not for you.¡± ¡°We entered at the same time. How could we have different chances? Our mass is identical, I can assure you.¡± I was constantly checking to make sure we matched weights. I bought him a scale as a gift, telling him I had bought one online and they had sent two by mistake. Which was a lie. The scale had a history feature, so all I had to do was break into his bathroom occasionally and compare. If we were ever more than an ounce apart, I would stick my finger down my throat, or stuff my face, whichever the situation demanded. ¡°It was not body weight that was the determining factor. And you are incorrect, Miles. You entered the portal slightly after Tom did. 3.1894 seconds later, approximately.¡± ¡°RENA, for an AI, you really like to dance around the topic at hand. Why did we have different chances?¡± ¡°The cost-benefit analysis was done separately for each participant in the expedition. Your chances at the time of transmission were approximately 70%.¡± ¡°What! You¡¯re telling me I had a 30% chance of failure? What the hell, RENA? Why?¡± ¡°I just told you, Miles. It was based on a cost-benefit analysis. This was all included in the paperwork you signed.¡± I started to wish I had read that paperwork before signing it. ¡°You¡¯re saying that I am worth less than Tom. Significantly less.¡± ¡°That is not inaccurate, Miles, according to the metrics used.¡± According to the metrics used, I repeated in my mind. I would love to know what those metrics were. Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t have much of an argument against being worth less than Tom. It was obviously true. ¡°RENA, I¡¯m going to ask one more time, and I want you to answer immediately. If Tom experienced a failure in transmission, then what happened to him?¡± ¡°There are multiple possibilities. I am unable to confirm one.¡± ¡°Give me the most likely option,¡± I said, frustrated. ¡°In simple terms.¡± ¡°The most likely option is, simply put, death. Of both Tom and the communicator. Though a communicator does not exactly die. But it ceases its function, which could be called similar to death. Likely this was caused by electric shock, since the machine is extremely high voltage. Do you understand?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said, firmly. ¡°Absolutely not. Not Tom. Not possible. What¡¯s the second most likely option? Tom isn¡¯t dead.¡± ¡°The second most likely option is disintegration.¡± ¡°What? How the hell is disintegration different than death?¡± ¡°Are you asking me a philosophical question, Miles?¡± ¡°I- fuck off, RENA. Fine. Third most likely. He¡¯s alive, damnit.¡± ¡°The third mostly likely option is that Tom was sent into the planet itself, rather than the surface. He has by now likely suffocated, if he wasn¡¯t immediately crushed by the high pressure, and, regardless, the crust of the planet is interrupting the signal, perhaps because of lead, bauxite, or some other, unknown material.¡± ¡°Are you going to fucking tell me every single way that Tom could have died? Tom is not dead, RENA! I¡¯m telling you, that isn¡¯t possible. Put that into your fucking code if you have to. What¡¯s the fourth most likely option.¡± ¡°I predict that you will not like the fourth option, Miles.¡± ¡°Fuck!¡± I punched the tree. It didn¡¯t do anything. ¡°Wait,¡± I said. ¡°No no no, wait a minute RENA. You¡¯ve missed something. What if Tom is just somewhere else on the planet? What if he¡¯s just a few miles away?¡± ¡°That is a possibility.¡± ¡°Well there you go, RENA.¡± I laughed. ¡°Why did you have to give me all this death talk? Tom is probably just over the horizon. What if we, I don¡¯t know, can you scan my surroundings, or something? Can you analyze where he is most likely to be?¡± ¡°I regret to inform you that I have no such ¡®scanning¡¯ capability, especially in that dimension, in which my only current information comes from you, and a few scattered cameras.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you see him on one of the cameras?¡± ¡°No, Miles.¡± ¡°What about before we lost the data feed? What was the last footage or audio you received?¡± ¡°There is no data from after entry.¡± ¡°What are-¡° I started, but something caught in my throat before I could finish. I collected myself and tried again. ¡°If possibilities one, two and three all involve Tom dying¡­ which is the first one that involves him being alive?¡± ¡°That would be the twenty-third possibility. Unless you mean alive, and uninjured, and likely to stay alive for at least another twenty-four hours. In that case, that is the forty-seventh highest possibility.¡± ¡°What percent chance is that?¡± ¡°There is a large degree of error, but I approximate it to be 1%. 1%. - I watched the wind carry grains of sand across the dry earth. I could see birds, high in the air, maybe a mile or two off. I thought at first they must be buzzards, but they hung strangely in the sky, like too-big hummingbirds too far from the ground. I watched as they circled some distant corpse. Occasionally, I would look down at my shadow, tracking its progress as the sun moved through the sky. It was around midday, now. The shadow had disappeared. Except that isn¡¯t true, I thought. I am the shadow. It is the body itself which has disappeared. I stood, and began to walk. ¡°Your emotional state appears to be unstable,¡± RENA said again, though I couldn¡¯t tell you how many time she had said it already. ¡°I would like to remind you that as an employee at Dimen-X, you are eligible for top-class health care coverage, which includes therapy visits. Would you like me to sign you up? It will only deduct a small part of your monthly salary.¡± I didn¡¯t answer. I just kept walking. ¡°Where are you going, Miles?¡± RENA asked. ¡°Towards the birds.¡± The midday sun beat down relentlessly, and sweat fell around me on all sides. But I couldn¡¯t feel the heat. Couldn¡¯t feel my feet being torn up on the cracked ground. What now? A voice in my head asked, but I pushed it away. I couldn¡¯t think about that, Couldn¡¯t think about anything. Just the birds. They had landed some time ago, during the walk. I don¡¯t know how long the walk was. An hour. Hours. When I arrived at the body, the birds had already picked much of the skin off the bones. They were clearly upset that I had interrupted their meal, but scattered all the same. They hung in the air above, waiting for the intruder to leave. The body was unrecognizable. It could have been almost anyone. Nearly a skeleton, features peeled away by sun and beaks. It wasn¡¯t even clear what the man had died from. Perhaps he wasn¡¯t even injured, just died from thirst, or exhaustion. ¡°RENA,¡± I asked, ¡°Is this Tom?¡± ¡°I can say with near certainty that it is not Tom, Miles. Whoever it is, they¡¯ve been dead for a very long time. Much longer than Tom would be.¡± ¡°Is it me?¡± ¡°I do not understand the question, Miles.¡± ¡°Is it me?¡± I repeated. ¡°No, Miles. The dead body in front of you is not you. Not unless you subscribe to certain Buddhist or Hindu beliefs that everything is everything and there is no real differentiation between anything. But there is no evidence for such a belief, and, according to your records, you are not a member of either such belief system. Would you like me to update your records?¡± ¡°You can update them to ¡®deceased.¡¯ Save us all some time.¡± ¡°On behalf of Dimen-X, I would once again like to remind you of your eligibility for immediate health-care coverage, including therapy visits, which can be done over the phone. Would you like to¡­¡± I stopped listening again. I couldn¡¯t get the thought out of my head that this skeleton was Tom. Or me. And me. He looked happy, at least. As happy as a dead body can look. I laid down next to the body, nestling myself on the side furthest from the sun. The body was warm. I tucked myself back into the shadow. ¡°I¡¯m back, Tom,¡± I whispered. ¡°I¡¯m right here, in your shadow, like always. Doing what you do. Trusting the plan.¡± I closed my eyes, and went to sleep. Chapter 5 - Im Not Special Everyone told me I was special. My mom, my grandparents, my teachers. My mom would say things so naive I can only laugh now, looking back. ¡°When you¡¯re a millionaire, can I crash in your mansion? Just the couch would be fine.¡± She¡¯d say it with a little conspiratorial grin, laughing internally at her own private joke. Not a joke because she thought I wouldn¡¯t become rich, but because she thought I¡¯d surely buy her an entire house, rather than make her take the couch. She may end up being right about that, but not for the reasons she thought. I¡¯m not special. She was very wrong about that. I¡¯m not special. Neither are you, in all likelihood. That¡¯s just the way it is. It¡¯s better to learn that quickly, to really let it soak in from as early an age as possible. It¡¯s so important, in fact, I¡¯m going to write it again. I am not special, and you probably aren¡¯t either. Some people spend their entire lives never realizing this simple, desperately vital fact. My dad, for one. There were early signs. I liked to read biographies when I was a little kid. I must have been 6, maybe 7. I wanted to know what made those famous people tick. How they did it. My dad was a great man, I thought, but he was always at work. And he had all these books on his shelves. So I thought reading them might tell me both more about him, and more about how to be the kind of person he would be proud of. I was wrong, but just the fact I was reading those books convinced my mother that I was special. ¡°Look at what he¡¯s reading!¡± my mom would say, beaming, to my father - who was at that time still living with us. ¡°The other kids are reading Dr. Seuss, if they can read at all, and our little genius is reading about Ben Franklin!¡± I devoured biographies and autobiographies. Alexander the Great. George Washington. The diary of Christopher Columbus. I¡¯d curl up on the couch and read while my mom made dinner, the smell of tuna casserole or country fried steak setting the mood. Then, after Dad lost his job, I¡¯d hideaway upstairs, burrowed in my bedcovers, trying to lose myself in the lives of Teddy Roosevelt or Julius Caesar, trying - often without success - to ignore the shouting beneath my feet. I pretended that it wasn¡¯t my parents screaming at each other at all. When my mother let out a particularly violent remark, it was actually Mark Antony, Caeser¡¯s friend, crying out in anguish at the foot of his corpse. But the men I read about didn¡¯t make any sense. I understood what they did, even how they did it, but never how they thought to do it. There was never someone telling them what to do, like what happened to me all day - at school, and at home. They came up with what to do all on their own. And what they came up with wasn¡¯t anything like what you or I would have come up with. They weren¡¯t like me at all. They seemed like a different species. That was probably the first clue, but I missed it. Maybe if I was special, I would have seen it. But if I was special, there wouldn¡¯t have been anything to see, because I¡¯d probably have understood those great historical figures. A real catch-22. But I caught on eventually, when things became more obvious. I was 10 years old. Fifth grade. I was in my room - my sanctuary. Dad was long gone at that point, so there was no shouting to hide from, but also little reason to leave. We were sitting at my little desk, my mom and me. I was going through a worksheet of social studies questions, while she watched, ready to swoop in and give support in any way she could. She wanted to help. I couldn¡¯t focus on the work. This thought kept creeping up in my mind, this question. Why? Earlier that year I had brought home my first bad report card. An F in Social Studies. I had timidly handed it over to my mother, knowing what was coming. ¡°Miles Scott James,¡± she said to me, using my full name, as she always did in moments of anger, spitting out the name Scott - my father¡¯s name - like a curse. She had probably acquired this habit of using my full name because she had seen it on TV. ¡°What happened? You¡¯re better than this.¡± Since then, endless hours of homework, extra work, and studying, always with her watching. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Today, however, she seemed less interested. In fact, Mom¡¯s mind seemed to be somewhere else. I had brought another notice home today. An official document, from school. A warning. It even started with ¡°to whom it may concern¡± and everything. A notice to my parent(s), notifying them (her) that if I didn¡¯t pass the upcoming state exams, I would not be allowed to move on to the sixth grade, to middle school. I had expected more yelling. More hitting. But after she read it, she went blank. Like her soul had left her body. She hadn¡¯t said a word to me since. I tried really hard to improve, I did, but nothing ever clicked. I knew I wasn¡¯t dumb. I was supposed to be special, even. So there had to be some trick, some simple thing I was missing, and if I just worked hard enough, I would get it. But nothing improved. That was the worst part: I didn¡¯t even know why I was failing. And now my mom, the zombie, stared off into space next to me. How was I supposed to study with that? ¡°Mom?¡± I asked, desperate to break the silence. She jumped. ¡°Mom, why is this so hard for me?¡± ¡°What do you mean, Miles?¡± ¡°Other kids pass the tests, easy. Like Tom. He doesn¡¯t have any trouble passing. He said he got an A on the last one. Why can¡¯t I get As anymore?¡± Her eyes were still somewhat distant. Something else was on her mind, but I could see the gears turning. She was trying to pay attention, with part of her brain at least. ¡°Do you think you¡¯re dumb?¡± she asked. I chuckled at what I assumed was a joke, too soon. I turned to look at her face again, and she wasn¡¯t smiling. It was a real question. No malice in her voice, just curiosity. ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m no dumber than Tom, and he passed.¡± Tom was my best friend. He was in the same grade as me, and I mostly thought I was smarter than him, if anything. But he did much better in school. ¡°Hmm,¡± she said. We were both silent for a moment. ¡°Is it because we¡¯re too poor for tutors?¡± she suggested. ¡°Maybe you just need some expert advice.¡± I shook my head. It felt kind of like we were working together now, trying to get to the bottom of this mystery. ¡°That¡¯s not it, either. I¡¯m sure Tom doesn¡¯t have a tutor. His family is just as poor as we are.¡± I thought she would laugh at that, but she didn¡¯t. ¡°Do you have any other ideas?¡± she asked. She looked me in the eyes this time. She sounded suddenly desperate. ¡°N-no.¡± The words all came flooding out then. ¡°I don¡¯t get it at all. If it¡¯s so easy for someone like Tom, why isn¡¯t it easy for me? What am I missing, Mom? Why can¡¯t I succeed like he can? I really don¡¯t want to be held back, and lose all my friends when they go to 6th grade.¡± A slight smile played on the corner of her mouth. It was the most depressing smile I¡¯ve ever seen, even though I think it was meant to comfort me. She rustled my hair. She never did that. Only Dad used to do that. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Miles,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ll get by somehow. Some people just aren¡¯t meant to succeed.¡± My mind went blank. My vision narrowed, and the sound of the AC became muffled. My pencil shook in my hand. It was a long time before I realized my mom was still talking. ¡°- you ask him over? Maybe he can tell you his secret.¡± ¡°Who?¡± I squeaked out. ¡°Tom,¡± she said. ¡°See if he¡¯s free. Maybe he can help.¡± I didn¡¯t answer immediately. Couldn¡¯t. Eventually, I called Tom, even though my fingers couldn¡¯t feel the phone. I don¡¯t remember asking him to come over, but I must have, because he was there within an hour. But it felt like a moment. I blinked, and my mother was replaced by Tom, who was smiling. What¡¯s he so fucking happy about? I thought. ¡°So I heard you need help with some studying,¡± he said. He was beaming, talking like a superhero or something, there to save the day. ¡°No need to look so worried. I¡¯m a master of social studies. And English. And - was there another one you¡¯re failing? Whatever it is, I¡¯m a master. Let me see what you were working on.¡± He made a motion for me to hand him the worksheet. When I just stared at him, he reached over and grabbed it himself. He read it for a few minutes. Then he began shaking his head, laughing to himself a little. ¡°I see what the problem is,¡± he said, like a detective in a movie. ¡°It¡¯s quite simple, my dear Miles. Quite simple, indeed. Where did you get this answer?¡± He pointed to a short answer question, an American History question. It was a question about George Washington¡¯s life. ¡°What type of tree did George Washington cut down as a boy?¡± Something I knew very well - it was referring to the cherry-tree myth which, of course, probably never happened - and yet I still failed it on any tests I took. I didn¡¯t understand the question. ¡°Where?¡± ¡°Yeah, where,¡± he repeated. ¡°From the teacher? From the textbook?¡± I shook my head. ¡°No. From his biography. That book over there.¡± I pointed to the book on my shelf. Tom hit the paper with the back of his hand, for emphasis. ¡°That¡¯s it! That¡¯s your mistake.¡± I furrowed my brow. This was confusing enough to draw me out of the stupor my mom¡¯s comment had left me in. ¡°What do you mean? Is that book inaccurate?¡± Tom gave me a condescending smile. ¡°Who grades the test?¡± ¡°The teacher,¡± I said. ¡°Or the state if it¡¯s a state test.¡± ¡°Right. Does the guy who wrote that biography grade the test?¡± ¡°Of course not,¡± I said. ¡°I think he¡¯s dead.¡± ¡°Miles, let me put it this way. You¡¯re trying to give them the right answer. That¡¯s not right at all. You have to give them the answer they want to hear.¡± I reeled. It was so simple. So dreadfully, woefully, pitifully simple. How could I have missed it? The teachers gave you the answers. You just had to tell them what they wanted to hear. No more, no less. All this extra studying, all the worry and stress, in the flash of an instant it all seemed so pointless. I looked up at Tom. He seemed at that moment completely different, like I was seeing him in a previously-unknown light. I knew, deep, deep in my heart, that I could have studied for the rest of my life, banging my head against the wall, and never have realized what he solved for me in an instant. Not because I wasn¡¯t smart enough to understand it - it made perfect sense. But because I didn¡¯t have something. Intuition, imagination, something, some spark that made the right path clear, the voice in your head that told you what needed to be done. I realized, looking at my friend, my friend I had known for years, that I was nothing like him. He had that spark. He was just like those men in the books. Working harder wouldn¡¯t give me that spark. Nothing would. We were different species. I passed the test. Easily, in fact. Tom taught me a valuable lesson in telling people what they wanted to hear. But he taught me a lot more than that, too, though he didn¡¯t know it. He showed me that I wasn¡¯t special. But he was. From that moment on, I attached myself to Tom like a parasite, and didn¡¯t let go. Chapter 6 - I Dont Need Therapy I woke up to a sunburn and a terrible smell. The smell was the body, of course. The one I had inadvertently wrapped my arms around as I slept. I jumped up off the ground with a yell. I was hoping that I would wake up in my own bed - my own floor, rather - this whole ordeal having been a bad dream. Of course my student loans aren¡¯t due! That¡¯s crazy! The first politician to take a step in that direction is going to be lynched! Such were my dream thoughts. But there I was, still stuck in my desert purgatory, the sun now a few hours travel towards the west after my impromptu nap. Or was it west? I suppose it could be different in this dimension. It wasn¡¯t even the same sun. Did it look little bigger, maybe? My underclothes were stained from the dead man. Whoever he was. I needed new clothes. ¡°RENA,¡± I said, summoning my only familiar voice remaining. ¡°Miles, you¡¯re awake. I must inform you that-¡° ¡°I¡¯m going to stop you right there, RENA. I don¡¯t need you to tell me all the reasons I shouldn¡¯t be getting in bed with corpses, OK? I get it. We¡¯re both going to just move on and pretend this didn¡¯t happen. And I don¡¯t need therapy. So you can can it on that one too. Roger?¡± ¡°Pretending is not a function I can perform sufficiently,¡± RENA responded. ¡°But I can comply with your request for silence on this topic.¡± ¡°Do you enjoy coming up with a contradiction to everything I ask you?¡± ¡°Strictly speaking, I don¡¯t enjoy anything, Miles.¡± ¡°Now who needs a therapist?¡± I surveyed my surroundings again. The same unchanging wasteland. The birds were a few feet away, anxiously hopping a step or two towards the body every minute or so. They looked enough like buzzards to be mistaken for one, but I¡¯d already seen how they flew like hummingbirds. I turned towards where Olim had pointed me. At least, where I thought he had pointed me. I saw that suggestion of a mountain range again. Is it possible there¡¯s nothing there? Olim could have been lying to me. Just for fun. It could be the exact wrong direction. Him and his friends didn¡¯t go that way. I wanted to go home. But I couldn¡¯t. ¡°RENA, is it possible for you to check my finances, or is that asking too much?¡± ¡°I will remind you that you¡¯ve already agreed to allow Dimen-X full access to your bank account, personal information, email account, cell phone, medical records, school transcripts, police reports, ancestry, DNA, stool samples, gut bacteria samples, social media accounts, last year¡¯s tax return and the key to your house, among other things. So yes, I can certainly check your finances. What would you like to know?¡± I once again wished I had read the papers I had signed. ¡°What is my monthly payment due this month on my student loans, and when is it due?¡± ¡°Assuming that your salary from Dimen-X goes towards the monthly payment, the amount remaining is $10,000, due on the 31st. Today is the 2nd, in case you have forgotten.¡± I nodded. That sounded right, unfortunately. I had spent a LOT of money in college. Perhaps I shouldn¡¯t have used the loans to get food delivered to my dorm room. Then again, it worked out just fine for Tom. ¡°So if I don¡¯t come up with 10k within the month, I¡¯m coming home to an eviction notice.¡± I said to myself. RENA answered my non-question. ¡°That is correct. Although you have given Dimen-X the permission and ability to pay your rent, phone bill, and other monthly expenses, we cannot do so until after the full monthly payment on your debt is paid, because of the wage garnishing.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. I sighed. I¡¯m screwed, I thought. Absolutely, royally screwed. ¡°This wasn¡¯t the plan, Tom.¡° I whispered to myself. ¡°What was that, Miles?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± I had another thought, as I caught a whiff of my clothes, which now smelled like death. ¡°Can you send me supplies? Or will they get lost, like Tom?¡± ¡°I can certainly send you supplies, Miles. Or, rather, get an intern to put the supplies through the portal. They may get lost in transit, but we can always try again. Supplies are significantly easier to replace than human beings, I have found. They won¡¯t be free, of course. In addition to¡­¡± ¡°Yeah yeah yeah, I get it,¡± I said, waving her off. ¡°Nothing¡¯s free. It¡¯s going to delay my loan repayment slightly, but if I¡¯m dead it¡¯s not getting paid anyway.¡± ¡°Does this mean you are not abandoning your mission, Miles?¡± I didn¡¯t know how to answer. Without Tom, the whole thing felt pointless. But¡­ ¡°I have to find Tom,¡± I said, finally. ¡°And don¡¯t even start with me about the dead thing again. If he¡¯s dead, I¡¯m dead, RENA. And I don¡¯t really have a choice. If I go back now, I¡¯m dead for sure.¡± ¡°That is incorrect, Miles. You are correct in your assessment that you would quickly be homeless, unable to even purchase food. But you have a distinct possibility of not dying. IT just isn¡¯t a very high possibility.¡± ¡°Without Tom, I¡¯m dead. My only hope, in this dimension and the last, is Tom. But we¡¯re not talking about that right now. I need you to send me new clothes.¡± ¡°What kind of clothes would you like, Miles?¡± ¡°Something light. Cotton. And something that doesn''t look too suspicious in a possibly medieval world. Something sturdy. Oh, and I need other supplies, too. ¡°Send me a canteen, and backpack. Get MREs, or something that keeps in the backpack. Oh, and a knife. And another revolver. And a couple boxes of ammo. And, I don¡¯t know, something light. A baseball bat. As long as I can strap it to the backpack somehow. Oh, and shoes. Boots. And socks. Y¡¯know, throw in a pair of underwear, too. Oh, wait, and a tent. Definitely need a tent. And nail clippers. My nails are getting ridiculous.¡± ¡°Anything else?¡± I sighed. ¡°You haven¡¯t gotten any signal from Tom, have you?¡± ¡°No, Miles.¡± ¡°Then no, I suppose that¡¯s it. ¡°Wait. Actually, send me a sandwich, too. A philly cheesesteak. Get it from Tony¡¯s, on eighth.¡± At least I had something to look forward to. - It was a little over an hour before my supplies arrived. After all, the intern had to go buy them. It was lucky that they had an intern who could buy a gun that easily, one who had already passed a background check or whatever you needed. I didn¡¯t know. Maybe not lucky. Maybe it was planned. I guess someone had purchased the first gun, too. If Olim murdered someone with that gun, could they trace it back to the intern? A funny thought. The knife and half the MREs didn¡¯t arrive the first time, but they had bought spares, just in case, and they arrived on the second attempt. While I was waiting, I thought about how to get money in this dimension. I thought about the ideas that Tom had had. ¡°Precious gems or metals seems unlikely. We were thinking the dimension would be uninhabited, and so we¡¯d just stumble upon some chunk of gold or something, unmined. I don¡¯t see that happening now. I know that there are wandering thieves, and I know that there is at least one city. Just from those two things I can assume some level of civilization. Enough to make the clothes and bows that the Cho¡¯l were using. I suppose I could get lucky, and gold is extremely common here, and everyone has useless gold lying around. But I can¡¯t bet on that one. ¡°As far as selling an animal as a pet¡­ I¡¯ll need to find a different animal. And I don¡¯t see any rare plants yet, either. What if the whole planet is a desert? ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll just have to get a job in Eraztun. Or rob someone. That seems to be a popular pastime.¡± I shook my head. Part of me felt, well, not good, but something like it. It was an improvement to have a concrete goal, to be preparing, making plans. It took my mind off of things. ¡°Ten thousand dollars,¡± I said aloud. ¡°Ten thousand dollars in a month. What do you think, Tom? Think I can do it?¡± Tom didn¡¯t answer. But I imagined he would have said something like ¡°Of course you can, Miles. You¡¯ve just gotta believe in yourself. If you want it badly enough, you can do it.¡± He¡¯d always say some BS like that, and I¡¯d roll my eyes. That kind of advice was worse than useless. But when life is easy for you, you give out stupid advice like that, because you think life must be that easy for everyone else, too. ¡°Well you¡¯re wrong, Tom,¡± I said. ¡°I can¡¯t do it. But you can. Goal number one will be finding you. Goal number two¡­well, I guess I¡¯ll try to make whatever cash I can in the meantime, until you¡¯re here and can tell me what we should do next.¡± Obviously I had no idea where Tom might be. But he¡¯d stand out, wherever he was. The suit - and gun - would make an impression on people. My best bet was to make my way to a large population center, and ask around for the foreigner in a space suit. ¡°And what about magic?¡± I asked no one in particular. ¡°The Cho¡¯l mentioned magic, and they did some freaky stuff with their bodies. Could I do that? I think I¡¯ll try to ask the next person I see. If they¡¯re friendly. Big if.¡± I left my old clothes next to the body, and shouldered my pack. I was wearing my new clothes - an unassuming cotton shirt, and jeans, with a jacket I stuck in the pack. I looked goofy. I wasn¡¯t ready, but I wasn¡¯t going to be any more ready anytime soon. There were a few hours of daylight left, I thought, so I could make some small progress. I shouldered my pack, which had the bat strapped to one side, and the tent strapped underneath. ¡°Goodbye, corpse. I hope your suffering is over, now,¡± I said to the body of the stranger. ¡°I have a feeling mine is just beginning.¡± I started walking. - I had to make camp after only an hour or two of walking. I hadn¡¯t had RENA send me a watch, so I didn¡¯t know exactly how long it was. I considered having RENA send one in the future, but for the time being, I would make due with estimates. I didn¡¯t want to make a habit of ordering stuff from the RENA Express. I didn¡¯t even want to ask how much my first round of supplies had cost me. It would just make me depressed. As the sun set, the desert cooled, but luckily not enough to be outright cold - lucky because there was no wood for a fire anywhere. I practiced firing a few rounds into a shrub in the dying light. I would need to be a better aim. I also swung the bat around a bit. It was lighter than the mace at home, just a regular wooden bat - though it did look to be high quality - but it still felt good to make the movements. I screamed while I did it. Just like old times. I wasn¡¯t extremely tired, but I forced myself to crawl into the tent and try to sleep, since I¡¯d have a long day ahead of me. ¡°Hey, Tom,¡± I said, staring through the roof of the tent. It had a removable flap which I had removed so that I could see the unfamiliar stars. ¡°Tom, what am I supposed to do? Should I just give up?¡± Silence. I shook my head. ¡°I can¡¯t do this. I can¡¯t, Tom. Some day, there¡¯s going to be a choice, and I¡¯m going to think to myself ¡®what would Tom do?¡¯ and I¡¯m not going to have an answer, and I¡¯m going to make a decision, and it¡¯s going to be wrong, and I¡¯m going to screw everything up, just like when I was a kid. And then what, Tom? Then what?¡± I was crying again. Why did I have to always be crying? ¡°Don¡¯t give up,¡± Tom said. He couldn¡¯t have really said it, but I heard it. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t give up. Ever. So don¡¯t give up.¡± I nodded, and went to sleep. Chapter 7 - Why Does It Have to Look Like a Dog? The first thing I did when I woke up was clip my nails. They were getting annoyingly long. I could feel my toenails scratching against my socks while I was trying to sleep, and it drove me crazy. I didn¡¯t know the last time I had clipped them, but it must have been awhile. Either Tom hadn¡¯t clipped his nails in awhile, either, or I had been getting sloppy. Not that I really thought personal hygiene was the key to his success, but you never know. I certainly hadn¡¯t figured it out after all that time, so I couldn¡¯t act like I knew better. The other thing that had bothered me at night were the sounds. Alien sounds of distant creatures yipping and howling and making other sounds completely unlike any animal I¡¯d ever heard. One made a long, breathy whistle that rose at the end, which woke me in the night at least twice. Another made no sound at all except for its footfalls, which fell like boulders and shook my tent as it passed. I didn¡¯t dare look outside to see how closely it had passed. I packed my things and strapped on my holster in the light of the rising sun. I hadn¡¯t asked for the holster, but was happy RENA had sent it. I would say it was thoughtful, if an AI was capable of being thoughtful. But I remembered the training video they had all of the employees watch. The warnings. I had to be careful about assigning human traits to the AI, and even more careful about feeling positive emotions towards it. In fact, that was one of the many meanings of the name RENA. From the Japanese Renai Kinshi - or love ban. Her name itself was a warning - do not fall in love with the machine. They¡¯d had problems with previous iterations. The other meanings included RENA being a female version of the name Rhett - after Rhett Nash, the founder, of course, though it¡¯s a bit of a stretch - and it being an abbreviation for the ironic moniker ¡°Really Excellent New A.I.¡± Us lower-tier employees had other abbreviations - ¡°Redundant-Employee Neutralizing AI,¡± or ¡°Robotic, Emotionless and Needlessly Annoying.¡± I started walking, filling my head with useless thoughts such as these. A wandering mind keeps the eyes dry. The mountains were not so far away as I had initially thought. They were still miles and miles off, but I quickly begun to make them out more clearly, and also see the hills that stretched out before them. I walked until past midday before anything of note happened, besides the gradual color change as the grasses became less dry, and the occasional tree became less blackened and more frequent. It was still a desert, I think - I didn¡¯t know the classifications of biomes - but certainly things were becoming less dry, however slight or gradual. An hour or so after midday - by that time I was surrounded by miniature hills like gentle waves - a sound stopped me in my tracks. Faint, but distinct. A chittering sound. I couldn¡¯t identify it. It seemed to be coming from just ahead, beyond the crest of a small hill. I immediately dropped onto my stomach. I didn¡¯t know why, except that it was what a character in a movie would have done. I had no idea if it¡¯s what Tom would have done, but I¡¯d take my cues where I could get them. I crawled along my stomach, worrying about roughing up my nice new shirt. I hoped it wouldn¡¯t tear. As I peaked over the hill, I saw it. It was the size and form of a coyote, or a medium sized dog. It had the same legs, snout, and pointed ears. And teeth, I saw, as it was feeding on a small mammal I couldn¡¯t make out. But it wasn¡¯t a coyote. Its forehead, back and stomach were covered in bands of what looked like dark-gray armor, nearly black. It was like a coyote had stolen the shell off of an armadillo. Around the ground near it there were black markings, as if a campfire had been made there the night before, leaving scorch marks behind. I weighed my options. Bloodthirsty as it may make me seem, killing the thing was my first thought. I had the jump on it, and it would be good practice. Maybe I could even eat it, although it didn¡¯t exactly look tasty. It wasn¡¯t very large or intimidating, even with its strange appearance. It was distinctly dog-like, which gave me some sort of emotional pause, but I remembered what my mom told me when I was a kid. ¡°If a dog ever attacks you, you can¡¯t hesitate. Kick the dog before it bites you, and don¡¯t hold back.¡± My mom gave some interesting advice sometimes, now that I thought of it. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. I thought about the boar, and how uselessly my bullets fell around it, not hitting home even a single time. It would be safer to take my advantage, shoot it before my nerves were shot, while I still had time to aim and breathe. On the other hand, this coyodillo - as I was deciding to call it - wasn¡¯t attacking me. It was just enjoying its lunch. Other than practice - and safety, in a admittedly paranoid sense - it didn¡¯t gain me anything to kill it. And while practice was valuable, what if it was more powerful than it looked? But if I waited, and lost the element of surprise, and it did attack me, then where would I be? In the end my fear won out. Better to strike first, before the creature noticed me. Just to be safe. Judge me if you have to, I don¡¯t care. I carefully shimmied backwards down the hill. It wouldn¡¯t do to charge in and hope for the best. I had to prepare. Once I was safely out of sight, I took off my backpack and rummaged around. I pulled out one of my MREs. I had hardly touched them, opting instead for RENA¡¯s philly cheesesteak delivery service. I¡¯d already eaten three sandwiches - a little reminder of Earth. I wouldn¡¯t miss the MRE. I tore it open. Inside, there were small white pieces of what the packaging optimistically called ¡°chicken chunks.¡± I spilled them out on the floor. Then, I retreated. Or, tactically repositioned, if you prefer. I doubled back to lay behind another gentle hill, where I could watch over my bait behind some dry grass, which was as good of cover as I was likely to get. Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t afford me a line of sight on the coyodillo¡¯s current location, but I could wait. I unholstered my revolver, and steadied it, aiming at the chicken pile. It was entirely possible that the coyodillo wouldn¡¯t smell it, and wouldn¡¯t happen to come this way, and I would have wasted the food for no reason. But that suited me just fine too, if the creature happened to just wander off and leave me alone. This plan also gave me the option of changing my mind, even if it did come this way, which is always a valuable part of a plan. I waited. The sun beat down on my back, which was already drenched in sweat from the journey. My sunburn still stung. I¡¯d have to remember to get RENA to send me some Aloe Vera. I wondered what my bill was up to by that point. A few hundred bucks? A thousand? I didn¡¯t want to know, but I knew I really should not be working backwards like that. I was in that dimension to make money, not to spend it. It took longer than I had naively hoped, but just after I thought the creature must have wandered off, and just before I gave up, the head of the coyodillo peaked over the hill. I was at a right angle to it - I hadn¡¯t wanted to be dead-on, since that seemed more likely that it would spot me. I watched as it bounded up and over, trotting over to its second meal of the day. It¡¯s a good thing it¡¯s that hungry, I thought. As the coyodillo came closer to the bait, it slowed down. It seemed to be looking around, as if it sensed that this was some sort of trap. Now or never, I thought. I adjusted my aim. Suddenly a burst of flame, appearing just in front of the animal, which scorched the bait. The flame came from the coyodillo. It was breathing fire, like a dragon. The fire shot out in one short blast, and was over in a moment. ¡°What the hell?¡± I said to myself, and regretted it instantly. I saw every muscle in the creature grow taut, and it turned to face the noise. Shoot, damnit, shoot. I aimed, and¡­ Hit. Right in the forehead. I would have deserved a medal for that shot, except- except it ricocheted off of the animal¡¯s armor, plinking uselessly. It must have hurt, though, because it was easy enough to tell that the animal was now pissed. Tiny tendrils of fire escaped its nostrils as it breathed. It bounded towards me. I imagined Tom. Cool and collected Tom, shooting again, not panicking. I fired another shot. This one caught it in the leg, which was unarmored. The coyodillo let out a pathetic yelp, which made me feel bad, even though it was a fire breathing monster making its way towards me. Why did it have to look like a dog? The coyodillo changed its mind. With a significant limp, but still about as fast as I could probably run, the thing beat a hasty retreat. I fired two more rounds at it as it went, mostly for practice, but missed both. ¡°Not bad,¡± I said to myself. ¡°Not bad at all. Batting .250 is a world better than batting zero.¡± The leg wound the coyodillo sustained had looked pretty bad, and a trail of blood snaked up another hill where it had fled. I guessed it probably didn¡¯t have long to live. Then, a feeling. A new feeling, not quite like anything I¡¯d ever felt before. There was a warmth in the pit of my stomach. I heard the crackling of a fire, smelt the heavy smell of smoke, tasted charcoal on my tongue, but these sensations seemed to come from inside me, not outside, as if they rose from out of my throat. There was a fire burning in my gut. That was the feeling. And another feeling, like¡­ like a question. There was a question inside me. It sounds crazy, and I certainly thought I was crazy, at the time. I thought I was having a stroke, or a panic attack, or something. A heat stroke didn¡¯t seem unlikely. I grabbed my canteen from the pack, gulped down some water. It didn¡¯t help. Still that warmth, and that question. Yes, or no, the question seemed to ask. Or something like that. A simple yes/no question. I don¡¯t know what sensation gave me that knowledge, but it was like it was implanted into my brain. Yes, or no? Accept, or decline? Accept or decline what? The warmth? I was losing it. I looked around me for the nearest tree, and went over to lay in the shade. Apparently my nerves weren¡¯t cut out for hunting. I needed a rest. Nothing changed. Still that feeling. If I wasn¡¯t already sweating, that internal heat would have made me start, I thought. A thought. Could this be magic? A stupid thought, I knew, but I couldn¡¯t help it. It felt so foreign to anything I¡¯d ever experienced, foreign in a way that reminded me of the Cho¡¯l, with their sail-arms and knife-nails. Olim had mentioned magic, acted like I could learn how to use it. I knew what Tom would do. Yes, I thought to myself, aiming the thought at my gut. And just like that, the feeling was gone. Except I felt slightly stronger, in some way. It was just as hard to place as the previous sensations, but it felt like something had changed. I instinctively looked at my hands. Chapter 8 - Magic If I had magic, I was determined to figure out how to use it. The sensation had been fiery, so I focused on that. I imagined a ball of fire in the palm of my hand. I pictured it in my mind. As I did, it felt as if my blood all rushed to my hand, pooling there. But that wasn¡¯t quite right, either. Not my blood. My energy, or something. I didn¡¯t have the vocabulary to describe it. I wanted someone to explain this all to me, but that wasn''t a luxury I had. The energy collected there, and I felt the warmth in my hand, but nothing happened. I focused harder. Beads of sweat fell once more off my brow. My body shook as my arm tensed. It felt like I would pop a blood vessel. I could feel the fire there, I could feel warmth just under my skin, I could almost see it there, a reddening of the skin in my palm, a rippling underneath. It was so close. But nothing happened. I collapsed as I let out the tension, let the energy flow back into the rest of my body. Though unsuccessful, the attempt was exhausting. ¡°Something feels different,¡± I said. ¡°Either I¡¯ve finally lost it, or there¡¯s something there. There¡¯s got to be a trick to it. What do you think, Tom?¡± I turned towards where Tom sat against the tree. He was eating a strange fruit like an apple, though I couldn¡¯t imagine where he had gotten it from. He smiled at me. ¡°I think you¡¯re right,¡± he said. ¡°I think you¡¯re just doing something wrong, something simple. Maybe¡­ maybe you¡¯re too tense? Maybe you need to let it flow with more grace, y¡¯know? I¡¯ve never seen a wizard in a videogame or a movie look like he¡¯s constipated whenever he casts a spell.¡± I laughed. So simple. As always, Tom had the answers. What would I do without him? I tried to move the ¡°energy¡± that I had felt earlier, but slowly. I didn¡¯t force it through, I guided it. The feeling before had felt like sucking a milkshake through a straw that was too small for it. This felt like running your hands through water. The energy collected in my hand again. But no fire. Maybe I have to will it away from me, or something, I thought. I stood up, feet spread wide, my right hand held out before me. I willed the energy out of my hand. Nothing. I tried again. ¡°Fireball!¡± I yelled, thinking for some reason that was the missing piece. ¡°Fireball!¡± I yelled again. ¡°Fireball!¡± I felt like an idiot. I knew the fire was there, just under the skin. I felt it just as clearly as I had felt the revolver in my hands. The revolver. I drew my weapon again, and aimed at the ground a few yards ahead. I tried to flow the energy into the weapon, thinking maybe I could use it as some sort of conduit or something, shoot magical fire bullets, I don¡¯t know. There was a lot of desperate thinking going on at the time. But I could feel as the energy rejected the gun. Or the gun rejected the energy. Whatever the case, it was evident in a primal, gut-instinct way that this wasn¡¯t going to work. I holstered the gun, and tried my bat. A flaming bat would be pretty sick. But I could feel the rejection there, too. ¡°Hey Tom, what do you think-¡° I stopped. Tom wasn¡¯t there. Of course Tom wasn¡¯t there. I was alone. - Eventually, I had to give up and get moving. I couldn¡¯t spend all day shouting made-up spell names and hoping for the best. Tom was out there somewhere, and I had to find him. Although, I thought, knowing Tom, he¡¯s probably doing extremely well out here. He¡¯s probably sitting in some medieval castle right now, feasting on mutton and mead with the king. By the end of the month he¡¯ll be marrying the princess. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. I started to actually get mad at Tom, because of that image in my head. ¡°I bet Tom figured out how to use magic,¡± I said, through gritted teeth. Even more pressing than that, the clock was ticking on my debt. I had to pay $10k by the end of the month. Currently, I had made significant progress - in the opposite direction. I hiked up and down those rolling hills for another day. Now they were mostly covered in tufts of grass, which were dry, but approaching green in color. There were small bushes and shrubs scattered everywhere, and small trees, all of which I couldn¡¯t identify, but which were, in fact, green. The taller ones scratched at my arms as I passed them, but it was still much too warm to break out the jacket. The ground around these plants was hard dirt, hard enough to break your nails if you tried to dig into it with your hands. I had to be careful not to trip on the rocks, which in some places were as large as human heads. The mountains in the distance were a blue silhouette, and occasionally clouds would give some relief from the sun. From the top of a hill, the view was, admittedly, quite beautiful. And I felt less alone. The coyodillo wasn¡¯t an anomaly. Now there were birds and lizards and bugs, skittering and flying. They weren¡¯t always around, but I found them frequently enough. I knew at some point I would want to stop and examine them, but my mind was somewhere else at the time. Thinking about magic. What was I missing? I spent another night in the tent, praying that the things which walked by didn¡¯t stumble upon me. Everything sounded so much larger at night, so much more menacing. I heard howling that night, and assumed it was the coyodillos. I¡¯d killed one, but a pack of them would probably do me in. Especially if they got the jump on me and lit my tent on fire. But there was nothing I could do except sleep with my gun nearby. I¡¯d practiced more, and would need more ammo soon, but I had some left. I slept as best as I could. I woke up to the uncomfortable feeling of my nails scratching against my socks, again. Didn¡¯t I just trim them yesterday? How did they grow back so fast? When I checked, I saw that my fingernails had regrown as well. Don¡¯t certain foods cause your nails to grow faster? Are cheesesteaks one of them? I got out my nail clippers, and started trimming. I really didn¡¯t want this to turn into a daily thing. While I was doing that, I called RENA, and asked for another sandwich, as well another box of ammo, and a pair of scissors. My hair was getting long, and it was annoying me. I waited to start the day until RENA had sent that stuff over. It was apparently easier to send if I stayed in one place. Less chance of lossage. So I did some more target practice, shooting at the bleached skull of some poor animal that had died nearby, long before. That didn¡¯t last long, because I ran out of ammunition. So I tried to use magic again. I had thought, while waiting to fall asleep, that maybe my hands weren¡¯t the right place to use my magic. Maybe I channeled it better through my feet, or something. There was a rejection when I tried to send the energy into the gun, but there was a resistance when I tried to send it out of my palm, as well. Maybe it flowed better elsewhere. I kicked off my shoes and socks, and flowed the magic down into the bottom of one foot, and tried kicking it out. Embarrassingly, I even yelled out ¡°Flame kick!¡± a few times, just in case. This had no effect besides making me feel foolish. Where else might work? Although I really hoped I wouldn¡¯t have to shoot fire from my elbows or something, I tried every other body part I could think of. I tried channeling the warm energy into my knees, my chest, my groin; I even tried to shoot it out of my forehead. Nothing. I collapsed onto the unyielding ground. ¡°What am I missing?¡± I said to myself. I had started to doubt the possibility of the idea altogether. I could feel the warmth under my skin, but it seemed more and more likely that I was just insane. ¡°Or maybe I have some sort of magical disability. Wouldn¡¯t that be fitting.¡± RENA still hadn¡¯t sent the supplies. This happened sometimes, and I imagined that the intern was dragging his feet. If I hadn¡¯t come here, I may have ended up being the one grabbing supplies. They already had me grabbing coffee. Another idea, since I had time to spare. Maybe I had been right the first time, trying to use my hands, but maybe the palm wasn¡¯t it. Maybe the fingertips? I didn¡¯t even bother to stand up. I pointed my index finger into the distance, making a finger-gun with my hand. I started the flow. I didn¡¯t expect much. ¡°Bang.¡± ¡°OW!¡± I yelped. I stuck my finger into my mouth, sucking on it. The feeling had been like touching a hot stove. The tip of my finger felt like it was on fire. It felt like it was on fire. I took my finger out of my mouth, wincing, but not without some excitement. It wasn¡¯t quite right, but it seemed I had done it, done something. My heart raced at the possibility. I do have magic. Maybe in this world, I can be someone special after all, at least in some small way. I looked. The tip of my finger looked unharmed, except for the tip of the fingernail. A small sliver of the nail was missing, black burn marks around it, where the finger felt burnt. I could see - and feel - the tender skin beneath. It looked as if part of the nail had been burnt away to nothing. It hurt like you wouldn''t believe, but too many endorphins were being released for me to pay it much attention. ¡°I did it!¡± I yelled, jumping up off my feet. ¡°Yes! Take that, world. You¡¯re all screwed now, I¡¯ve got magic, baby. Yes!¡± Now to learn how to use it without burning myself. I held out my hand again, pointing my middle finger out. I sent the energy shooting to my finger, watching carefully this time so I didn¡¯t miss it. ¡°Fuck!¡± I yelled, as I burned myself again. But I saw it. From the edge of the fingernail of my middle finger, a little flame appear for a moment, then blew out. It lasted all of a second. But it was magic. I tried again, three more times, continuing to use my right hand. By the end I had made three more small flames, lost the tips of three more fingernails, and was wincing at the feeling of having burnt the tip of every finger on my right hand. It was like spilling hot bacon grease on yourself and getting your finger slammed in a door, at the same time, times two. Only adrenaline was keeping my from breaking down and curling up into a little ball of pain in the dirt. ¡°Why do I keep burning up the nail?¡± I asked. No one answered. I tried focusing the energy very carefully, pressing it down into one single point, on the palm-side of the fingertip. But when I did that, nothing happened. ¡°Please don¡¯t tell me that¡­¡± I didn¡¯t finish. I dreaded what I would have to test next. This time pointing with my left index finger, I sent another burst of energy. This time, I sent it straight to the nail. It hurt, worse than the last five times. The flame was bigger, which might have made me happy, except that when it evaporated, so did the entire fingernail, leaving no nail on that finger. Feeling despair start to overtake me, I took off one shoe, and tried sending the energy into the bottom of my left little toe. Nothing happened. I sent it to the nail. A little flame, stinging pain, and then no toenail. Gone. Burnt away. ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± Chapter 9 - Transportation Costs I ended up having RENA send some burn ointment as well. Luckily the company had that on hand, in a first aid kit. I told them they may as well send the whole kit. What was the point of having magic that you can only use on your nails? That was the million dollar question. Or, the $10k question, since magical powers seemed my best chance to get the money I desperately needed. My philly cheesesteak distracted me from the pain, a bit. It was delicious, as always. If you have to be sent into a hostile alien dimension, get lost, robbed, and have the tips of all your fingers burnt off, you may as well eat good. I could put up with a lot as long as I had those sandwiches. RENA interrupted my musings. ¡°Miles, a certain possibility has grown in likelihood recently, and as it is one of my duties to ensure your continued value to the company, I must bring it to your attention.¡± ¡°Did you find Tom?¡± I said, mouth full of cheese, steak, and bread, expecting little. I noted the continued value part silently. Not continued safety. Continued value to the company. ¡°No, it is unrelated to Tom,¡± RENA responded. ¡°Are you going to tell me I shouldn¡¯t be burning the tips of my fingers off? I don¡¯t know if you noticed, RENA, but I¡¯ve got fucking magic. If I can just figure out how to get past this one little problem, I¡¯ll be unstoppable.¡± ¡°I had noticed this phenomenon. It is quite unusual, but our analysis did always include the possibility that another dimension would have different physical laws. But as unusual as this phenomenon is, that is not what I¡¯m referring to.¡± ¡°Well then spit it out,¡± I said. I¡¯d never have guessed, before I had met RENA, how circuitous a machine could be. It almost seemed like RENA hesitated. ¡°Did you read the paperwork you signed before leaving, Miles? Completely?¡± ¡°Not really. Did I sell my soul or something?¡± I was feeling surprisingly relaxed. It was the sandwich. And the promise of magical power. ¡°No, Miles. However, I would advise you to read over the paperwork in its entirety. I calculate a very high probability that you are missing key information. If you like, I could read you the contents of the contracts and documents.¡± ¡°What kind of key information? Don¡¯t read me the whole thing, I¡¯d fall asleep. What do you think is important?¡± Another pause. ¡°Are you aware that any supplies given to the expedition members will be charged against a personal line of credit, expected to be repaid by the close of the expedition?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± I said. If that was all, I didn¡¯t need to worry. ¡°I didn¡¯t imagine you were sending me sandwiches for free. Someone¡¯s gotta pay for them. But what are they, like, five, ten bucks? Max? I¡¯m sure it adds up, but it¡¯s better than starving. Plus, it keeps me sane. Sane-ish. I¡¯m sure the revolver was more expensive, but I¡¯ve probably spent what, $500 so far? Are you criticizing my spending habits, RENA? I didn¡¯t know you were a financial adviser, too.¡± ¡°I am not a financial adviser,¡± RENA responded. ¡°And you are incorrect. That sandwich you are eating did not cost five or ten dollars. It cost approximately $150.¡± I nearly choked. When I recovered, coughing, I asked ¡°What the hell do you mean? What did you do, get Gordon Ramsey to cook it from the dead? Sprinkle flakes of gold inside the cheese? How the hell does it cost $150 to buy a sandwich? You¡¯re fucking with me.¡± ¡°I am not, quote, ¡®fucking¡¯ with you, Miles. It did not cost $150 to buy the sandwich. That cost is negligible. It cost $150 to send it to your dimension.¡± My head whirled. RENA had mentioned how expensive transit was, but I guess I had never thought about exactly how expensive. ¡°Wait, then how much did it cost to send me and Tom over?¡± ¡°The costs were different, Miles. It cost Dimen-X approximately $30,000 to send you, It cost approximately one million dollars to send Tom.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°One million! Why is it so large a difference? One million!¡± ¡°As I have told you, Miles, the cost grows exponentially as you increase the stability of the transmission. Tom was determined to be a higher value to the company.¡± ¡°Nine-hundred thousand dollars higher value?¡± I was yelling. ¡°$970,000 more, approximately.¡± ¡°But-¡° I couldn¡¯t finish. Seriously? I¡¯m worth that little to them? $30k is nothing to a company like Dimen-X. Rhett NAsh was a multi-billionaire. They probably spent more money sending the cameras over. I¡¯m worth less to them than cameras. ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± I was scared to hear the answer, but I had to. ¡°It had been calculated to be likely that you were unaware. It took some time to come to that conclusion, as it went against data we already knew to be true - namely, that you had read the paperwork. But you had, in fact, not read it completely. We had seen this outcome as likely, given your rate of purchasing. For both your future, and the future of Dimen-X, I was obligated to bring this to your attention.¡± If a sandwich costs me $150, I thought. How about the gun? $2000? ¡°How much have I racked up?¡± ¡°$10,739 and eighty-six cents.¡± Another 10k. I¡¯ve racked up another ten thousand dollars in the matter of a couple of days. ¡°That¡¯s insane. Absolutely insane. You don¡¯t expect me to pay it back now, do you?¡± ¡°Dimen-X understands your situation, and does not expect to see repayment in the immediate future. However, repayment is expected before the conclusion of the expedition.¡± ¡°Are you saying you¡¯re not going to let me go home until I pay you back?¡± Suddenly I felt very claustrophobic in that wide open space. ¡°I would have to consult with our legal team to give you the most up-to-date information. They have not yet determined the legality of such a condition.¡± So they want to. They want to leave me stranded here until I pay them back every red cent. Just what kind of psychotic organization am I working for? And it doesn¡¯t matter what the lawyers say, I realized. What am I going to do, file a complaint? Sue? They have me at their mercy. If they cut me off, then that¡¯s that. Guess I better play nice. But inside, I was seething. ¡°Thank you for informing me of this information, RENA. I was not aware. Could you please send me a copy of the paperwork I signed?¡± ¡°Of course, Miles. But are you sure you want me to send them? I could read them to you, and save the shipping cost.¡± Shipping cost. I almost laughed at that. ¡°It¡¯s just paper, RENA. It can¡¯t be that heavy. Send it over.¡± - It was heavier than I thought. RENA sent over a stack of papers that must have weighed more than War and Peace. No wonder I didn¡¯t read this. But I didn¡¯t have a choice now. If Dimen-X was going to end up screwing me, I at least wanted to know how. But I was no lawyer. As I read over the papers, trying my best to follow every line, much of it was incomprehensible to me. I knew in general what was being said. Dimen-X is not responsible for any injuries, Dimen-X is not responsible for any dismemberment, Dimen-X is not responsible for my death, Dimen-X is not responsible¡­ and so on. Then there were the parts about expenses. There it was, just as RENA said. My signature, right underneath a section about how I would have to repay them, in whatever manner they saw fit, at whatever time they saw fit. So tomorrow, if they really felt like it. By the time I had read the whole thing, it was already afternoon. More than half of a day of precious time spent without even packing up camp. And I didn¡¯t feel as if I understood my situation any better after reading it. I summoned RENA again. ¡°RENA, could you let me know immediately if there is any other part of the contract you think I may have missed or forgotten about, before I put my self in further debt?¡± ¡°Absolutely, Miles. But didn¡¯t you just read the entire contract?¡± ¡°I did, RENA. But human beings do not record information the same way an AI does. Our memory has a much higher rate of read/write errors, so to speak.¡± ¡°Perhaps you should upgrade.¡± I laughed. Was that a joke? Did RENA just tell a joke? I looked at the stack of papers in my hands. It was worthless to me now, to say the least. But, I thought, maybe I could get one use out of it. I placed the pile down in the dirt, and held out the tip of one of my remaining fingernails on my left hand. I braced myself, and sent energy into my middle finger. A little flame painfully lit the tip of my finger. I held it against the stack, and even in the short window of time before it was snuffed out, the fire caught. I stuck my stinging finger into my mouth, and watched the flickering of my small destructive act. I stayed watching until the whole stack was nothing but ashes. Behold, the extent of my power, I thought to myself dimly. A lighter could have accomplished the same thing. I looked down at my hands. Seven fingers had scorched tips with no nails. It was not pleasant to look at. How long does it take for a nail to completely regrow? A few months? Still, I felt a sliver of satisfaction. I did that, I thought. My power alone. It had already been several hours since RENA had made the last delivery. My stomach was growling. I pulled an MRE out of my pack, and glared at it. One more cheesesteak couldn¡¯t hurt, right? $150 is brutal but¡­ But it¡¯s just one time. Just one more time. A going away present to myself. A way to ease the pain of loss. It¡¯s fine. You¡¯re fine. Just one more time. Then, never again. At least, not until I¡¯m bringing in a bunch of money. Yeah, that¡¯s reasonable. Nodding to myself, I called for RENA again. ¡°RENA, could you please send me another cheesesteak? I know what it costs, I¡¯m willing to pay it.¡± RENA didn¡¯t answer for a long time. I thought maybe she hadn¡¯t heard me, or was ignoring me, if that was possible. ¡°RENA?¡± I asked at length. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t do that, Miles.¡± ¡°What do you mean, RENA? I know what I¡¯m doing. I have all the information. This is my decision. I want another sandwich for the road.¡± ¡°Dimen-X management asked me to cease all shipments immediately, in order to save costs. I sent the request to the appropriate person in the approval matrix anyway, and they declined. I was told that, until the expedition member begins proving their value, Dimen-X will not be spending any more resources on shipments.¡± My voice rose in a panic. ¡°What are you talking about, RENA? What about more ammunition? What if I run out of MREs? What if I get robbed again? Aren¡¯t I important to Dimen-X? Isn¡¯t the point of this entire company to explore another dimension? If I¡¯m the only person doing that, shouldn¡¯t they support me with everything they¡¯ve got?¡± ¡°I am afraid I have been given my orders, Miles. I cannot answer your other questions because they involve currently classified information. I can say, however, that you will not be receiving any new shipments in the immediate future. Unless, of course, you start making significant gains for the company. I am sorry if this is troubling to you, Miles.¡± Troubling? I thought. This just went from difficult to impossible in the blink of an eye. Or from hopeless to more hopeless. Suddenly, I felt the need to test something. ¡°RENA, I¡¯d like to request to be sent home.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t do that, Miles.¡± I¡¯m going to die out here. Chapter 10 - I Wish I Was a Bug I had the same supplies as before. I was sitting in the same camp. I had the same minor magic power. But the difference between where I was then, and where I had been that morning, were worlds apart. I was no longer an expedition member sent by a billionaire¡¯s passion company. I was no longer an impromptu rescue party. I was not an employee. I wasn¡¯t even a slave. Slaves were fed. I was nothing. I was a pair of dice rolling on stained green felt. Not even the dice. The roll itself. A $30,000 gamble, made by someone to whom that amount of money is a pittance. I was a bad poker hand, and the player holding me was folding. No use chasing bad money with good money. They¡¯d have sent Tom more money. He wasn¡¯t a gamble. He was an investment. Now they¡¯re stuck with me. But what, am I supposed to replace Tom? Maybe they thought that at one point, thought they could use me as a budget, backup Tom. Anyone can tell now that¡¯s not going to happen. They¡¯ll probably just send someone else out here, after I die. Someone with a spark of life in them. Maybe they¡¯ll even send them here before I die, just to humiliate me. If I found Tom, that would convince them. If Tom was worth a million dollars, recovering him would be like saving their investment, or something. I shook my head. It was just wishful thinking. Once the food ran out, once the bullets ran out, that was it. Only a matter of time. Why did this all have to happen to me? Plenty of regular, lifeless people live happy, ignorant lives. Is this my punishment for wanting more? For not knowing my place? I hope they all die, I thought. All of them. Dimen-X, the loan companies, the schools, and all the special people in those organizations who screwed me at every turn. Especially Rhett Nash. I hope they all live short, miserable lives. But they won¡¯t. They¡¯ll live long, fulfilling lives, because they¡¯re meant to be something special, and I¡¯m not. And I can¡¯t even fake it anymore. I didn¡¯t leave camp that day. There were only a couple hours of light left by the time I had finished having my hopes dashed, and then, what was the point? I retired early, slept and half-slept from before sundown until late morning the next day. When I awoke the next morning, my nails were halfway regrown. I stared at the sun for awhile. That alien, uncaring sun. Then I stared at the sky, and the dirt, and the foreign insects that crawled around the dirt, ignoring my presence. I wished I was a bug. Bugs didn¡¯t have debt. After a day of that, I went back to sleep. I woke up on the morning of what I calculated to be the 5th of the month. Only 26 days left. I¡¯d be dead long before that. My nails had completely regrown, to the point where I had to trim them again. ¡°What a superpower,¡± I said aloud. ¡°Flame nails. I would have preferred, well, anything else, really.¡± I sighed. What am I going to do? As I trimmed my nails, they fell into a little pile on the floor. I stared at the pile for awhile. Despite it all, I¡¯d had an idea. These are my nails. When they¡¯re on my hand, I can light them on fire. I seemingly can¡¯t light any other part of my body on fire, just my nails. But why? And¡­ and do they have to be connected to my body still? I took one nail out of the stack, and brought it outside. I set it on the ground, and squatted down next to it. I stared at it again for awhile, thinking. The promise of experimentation distracted me from the impending doom, like video games used to. There was something extremely enjoyable about messing around with magic, testing my capabilities, training, all of it. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. What are you doing, Miles? It¡¯s hopeless. You should just crawl into your tent, lay down, and die. Save everyone the trouble of getting their hopes up. Save everyone some time. ¡°Shut up,¡± I said, to the voice in my head. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to test something. Leave me alone.¡± I held out my hand - though I had no idea if that was necessary - and dialed my awareness into the flow of energy again. This time, I tried shooting it out of my body again. But not at a bush, or the empty air. At the nail. I focused on that little fingernail, and willed the energy out of me, and directly into it. It ignited. Painlessly. It burned for a second, then went out. I smiled. So I can use magic on my nails, even if they aren¡¯t attached to me anymore. For what it¡¯s worth, that is a huge improvement. I went back to the tent where I had been clipping my nails. I grabbed the little pile of nails and, as gross as it was, stuck them into my pants pocket. I walked back outside, and took out another one. This time, I threw it. I threw it with all my might, and then sent my energy to it as quickly as I could. It was so small that I lost sight of it almost instantly, but it didn¡¯t seem to matter. The moment I tried to send the energy, it felt as if there was an invisible string connecting me to the nail, and a nail-sized flame seemed to burst from nothing, right out of thin air. Then it was gone, in a moment. Could I use this as a weapon? Throw a handful of nails at someone? They¡¯d probably only get tiny little burns, not enough to actually injure anyone. But it would hurt, or at least startle. Unless they were wearing clothes. How many naked opponents am I likely to run into? How many opponents of any kind, for that matter? Maybe it could burn clothes, if they were flammable enough. I looked down at my own shirt. I¡¯m not about to test that one out. And if they¡¯re wearing leather or something, forget about it. Unless I can cover them in gasoline first. Which seems unlikely. One last test. I walked around the camp, gathering dry grass and branches from the surrounding area. There was plenty of it. I made myself the beginnings of a small campfire, with little branches stacked up like a teepee, and the bundle of dead grass underneath. I placed one nail on top of the grass, carefully. Then I ran. There was no reason to run, but I was getting excited, despite it all. I ran away from the camp until I was on the other side of a nearby hill. I went down the opposite side until the hill was between me and camp, and then I sat down facing away from it. I took a deep breath. Then, I sent out feelers of energy - I didn¡¯t know how to describe it, but it was something like that. I searched the air around me, mentally, for that string, that ethereal, invisible connection between me and the nails. I could feel it - many of them, in fact. All of them going into my pocket, except for one, which seemed to travel through the hill and into the distant nail. Locating that thread, I focused on it, and, in a burst, sent my energy flowing through it. I felt it flow, but there was no obvious change. I climbed back over the hill. And there, below, was a little campfire, crackling and burning and putting off little wisps of smoke. I had been able to light the nail without even looking at it, from a distance, through solid matter. And it was even enough to light a campfire. I smiled. ¡°Now that,¡± I said. ¡°That could be useful.¡± - I hadn¡¯t eaten since the last cheesesteak, but I finally caved, and opened up an MRE. The one I had used as bait, I hadn¡¯t even bothered looking inside. Blinded by the radiance of seemingly infinite chessesteaks, I had tossed the rest of the package. So I opened up a new one. Chili with beans, it claimed. Inside was much more than I expected. The eponymous chili with beans - in a little brown bag that no food should ever be served in, I decided immediately - as well as crackers - with a cheese spread which I doubted was really cheese - cornbread, ¡°pepperoni pizza cheese filled crackers¡± - which sounded straight out of a child¡¯s lunch - grape soda powder - which was ¡°carb fortified,¡± whatever that meant - a ¡°hot beverage bag,¡± a spoon, a ration heater, and another little bag filled with miscellaneous stuff. Upon opening it, I found it contained coffee, creamer, sugar, sugar-free chewing gum, a towelette, salt, and toilet paper. Despite the variety, it probably tells you something about the quality of the contents that I was most excited by the toilet paper, Or maybe it says something about what I¡¯d been going through the previous days, without toilet paper. There¡¯s no need to go into detail. Despite the food heater, I was tempted to use the campfire instead. I had kept it burning, even though it was daytime and I didn¡¯t need the heat or the light. But I wanted to try out the weird little heater thing. Then I discovered it needed water. Then it hit me how little water I had left. Then my slowly-improving mood plummeted again. This could be one of my last meals. I warmed the chili in the fire. This involved throwing the unopened bag into the fire, guessing at how long it would take to warm up sufficiently, then using the wettest sticks I could find to try to get it out. This resulted in more burns added to my collection, and a half-hot, half-cold chili. It wasn¡¯t good. It certainly wasn¡¯t cheesesteak-good. I was still bitter. The rest of the meal wasn¡¯t anything to write home about either, but I was hungry enough by that point. I ate almost every bit that didn¡¯t require water, and saved the rest, storing it in my backpack, just in case. Somehow I doubted that I was going to be saved by coffee, chewing gum, grape soda powder, a hot beverage bag, and a food heater. But you never know. I tried to ration my water as best I could, but I only had one large canteen. The MRE heater apparently didn¡¯t take much, but I wasn¡¯t willing to spare it. Either way, I could see my time was limited. I¡¯d be out of water by the end of the day. Which meant I had to get moving. The plan hasn¡¯t changed, I thought, even though I didn¡¯t really believe it. I¡¯m still going to Eraztun. I¡¯m still finding Tom. I just need to find some water first, that¡¯s all. And a source of food before the MREs run out. And¡­ I packed up camp while I thought of all the other things I needed. Money. A weapon better than a soon-to-be-ammo-less gun or a baseball bat. More magic. Tom. I put out the fire before I set off. It wouldn¡¯t do to start a brushfire. I¡¯d only been walking for a few hours before I heard noise. At the time, I had been thinking about how likely it was that I had already passed Eraztun, that I had missed it completely. Olim hadn¡¯t given me directions, just a direction. But then I heard the noise. Voices, and grunts, and creaking and muttering all joined in a general, low din. As I cleared the next hill, I saw a wide road, littered with people, wagons, beasts of burden. But as interesting as all of those alien people and creatures were, I hardly even noticed them. What I was looking at was the city. I realized just how ridiculous it was to worry about not noticing this city as I passed. It would be like not noticing the Himalayas, or the sun. Chapter 11 - A Noble Death The breathtaking scale of Eraztun loomed over the world in shades of muted pinks and oranges, the lower layers dyed in a dull peach, while the higher strata approached a vibrant clementine. It lay in a valley, hills rounding it on all sides, but its height dwarfed the hills. It was an imposing behemoth arrayed in splendor, a city of babel. The roads leading to the city were wide. They had to be - any smaller, and they would not have been able to hold the throngs of travelers that walked them. These travelers were human, which brought me some small relief, though their clothing was archaic and their pack animals were completely unfamiliar. They were all heading into the city, not away. I couldn¡¯t make out anyone leaving. I joined the crowd. I tried to stay on the outside as best I could, not to be trampled. There was clearly a disparity of dress among the crowd. Some wore simple, but respectable clothes in earth tones and faded yellows, reds and browns. These people carried weapons, and had animals pulling carts, and walked upright. Then there were those dressed in mostly-undyed rags, colored in the colors of dirt and sweat. Occasionally I¡¯d pass one of these people dressed in a woad-blue, and smelling of piss. These people did not walk so much as shamble, head down, back bent. Though I couldn¡¯t help but notice that some of them were giants, large and muscular. These ones walked with better posture, though they were just as dirty as the rest. On the opposite end of the spectrum - and few in number, where the poorer class was the overwhelming majority - was what I could only assume to be the nobility. They were dressed in purples and reds and blues of a different shade, and were surrounded by faceless armored men. They did not walk at all - they were carried, if not in carts drawn by wondrous animals, then by servants, in a palanquin. All others kept their distance from these people, even in the crowd. There were outliers, too, people who looked too dignified to be among the poor, too dirty to be rich, and too unique to be between them. These people were dressed in leathers, or cloaks, or glinting armor. They all wore weapons, and most wore scars. There were not many of them. I looked back up at the city. It, too, was divided. The tremendous walls clearly demarcated one layer of the city from the next, each layer growing smaller as the city rose to its zenith. It was a tiered city. First was a high outer wall, which seemed to be miles from the city center. I could only see it all laid out now because the hill we were on as we approached overlooked the lower tiers of Eraztun, though the higher ones were still yet higher. Outside the outer wall were masses of tents and dirt and filth. Here thin people loitered, looking desperate even from a distance. Inside the outer wall was a great expanse of farmland, with some small forests dotting it. There was more farmland surrounding that outer wall as well, but even with the size of the city proper, this inner farmland was so vast that it was hard to imagine they ever needed more, even if they needed to feed millions. The next ring up, contained within its own wall, was made of medieval-styled brick houses, built too close together, with narrow streets barely visible from afar. Higher than that, I could not see, except that I saw that the walls continued to mark out the tiers. I counted six in all, though I could not make out the higher tiers all too well. The city was a mountain, and you can¡¯t always see the peak of a mountain from the base. My clothing, I was suddenly aware, had more in common with the poorest in the crowd than the richest. My shirt was torn, and had taken on the color of the desert sand. My jeans were the same color as the lower-class¡¯ piss-blue. I hoped mine didn¡¯t smell, at least. I was once again pleasantly surprised to hear English being spoken around me. I wondered briefly about the logic of this. Although so much of what surrounded me was alien, so much of it was familiar, as well - even if they were only familiar as things I had seen in history books or video games. It was another dimension, not another planet, so perhaps this was a version of Earth where things developed differently. Animals evolved differently, civilization was built differently, the rules of physics worked differently. I glanced at the sun again. Was is bigger than Earth¡¯s sun? ¡°Why do they even bother?¡± a man nearby was saying loudly. I couldn¡¯t help but overhear. ¡°They know they aren¡¯t getting in.¡± Another, female voice answered him. ¡°They hope for mercy. They think the guards might have pity on them.¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The man laughed. ¡°Then they are fools, and deserve no pity. They all should have stayed in their villages.¡± ¡°Even to live outside the walls is better than to die in the wilderness, I suppose,¡± the woman responded. ¡°You do not mean that. Only the weak seeks a coward¡¯s life over a noble death. They deserve what they get.¡± Are these people fleeing something? Are they being refused entry? I wonder if they will let me in. I don¡¯t look the most presentable. I wish I could order new clothes from RENA. As we came closer, I saw great gates built into the outer walls. The gates were raised, but before them stood guards, who were clothed in less armor than I would have imagined. There were in chainmail and leathers - less armor than even some of the travelers approaching. Could they hold us all out, if the crowd rushed them? They don¡¯t even look particularly well armed. Just spears. It seemed that the multitudes funneled into lines before the gates. A few would step forward at a time, one or two guards for every one traveler, such that four or five were always being questioned at a time. Some came in groups, of course, so then that number would rise as the whole group was examined. I stood in line, peering at the slums surrounding us on either side. The tents didn¡¯t butt right up against the road - they kept a respectable distance - but they weren¡¯t far away, either. Thin children peered at the crowds in curiosity, while their equally thin parents looked on with envy. Perhaps I should just ask people there about Tom, instead of waiting in line. I might not even get in, and this is going to take ages. On the other hand¡­ I know a bad neighborhood when I see one, even in another dimension. I think I¡¯d be just as likely to be stabbed as have my question answered. I decided I¡¯d take my chances with being let inside. I could now see a group of structures just inside the gate, and the unending farmland beyond them. It wasn¡¯t as spectacular as the higher tiers looked, but it looked picturesque compared to the squalor outside the walls. I watched the men and women who approached the guards. Some pulled out pieces of paper, which they handed to the guards, and were let in. Others showed the guards the contents of bags, and were let in as well. I craned my head trying to get a peak at the bags¡¯ contents, but was unable. Still others were handed a small club by the guards. These travelers seemed to always change the club in some way, before handing it back. Sometimes the clubs would erupt in flames in their hands, or some other such shocking things - though it didn¡¯t shock the guards, who stood unblinking. Other times the club would just glow, or change in size, or curve. All these were deemed acceptable, and the travelers were let inside. The ones carried in palanquins were let in after having hardly having said a word to the guards. As if they only had to utter their names, and were allowed passage. Sometimes the guards would even bow. One traveler brought a chicken with him, which was bound at the feet. It squawked loudly, trying in vain to break its bonds. He tossed on the ground before the guards. Really? I thought. A chicken is enough to get it? Then the chicken exploded. The guard wiped chicken viscera off of his clothes, looking very unamused, but waved the man inside. So magic power gets you in, huh? Well, I guess it¡¯s my lucky day. It may not be as good as blowing up poultry, but it¡¯s magic. Most people, however, came empty-handed. These people were turned away. They were almost always the dirtiest and leanest of the crowd, as if they were already prepared for their lives in the slums outside the walls. When my turn finally came, I walked up to a lone guard. The gate was so wide that while standing in front this guard on the right end of the gate, I could barely hear what the next guard over was saying, and couldn¡¯t hear anything said further that that. Of course, the din of the crowd didn¡¯t help. ¡°Name?¡± the guard asked me. I saw no point in lying. ¡°Miles James,¡± I said. The guard looked at me with a strange look, but continued. ¡°What brings you to our city?¡± ¡°I¡¯m looking for someone.¡± ¡°Someone inside? Does that mean you have a reference? I cannot take your word for it.¡± I shook my head. ¡°No, no reference. I have magic, though.¡± ¡°Ah, well, that speeds things up. An adventurer, I suppose? You¡¯re so pitiful looking I mistook you for a lesser. But you never can tell with you adventurers. Do you need a weapon? Or a target? You¡¯re supposed to bring your own targets but we might be able to arrange something.¡± ¡°Nope, I don¡¯t need anything,¡± I said. I reached one hand into my pocket. I pulled out one nail, tossed it up into the air, and burned it. I felt slick as hell, doing it easily like that. The guard was not impressed. ¡°Is this a joke?¡± He asked. His face had taken on a cruel sneer. ¡°Huh? Did you miss it? I could do it again, if you want.¡± I stuck my hand back in my pocket. ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary.¡± The guard sighed in exasperation. ¡°You¡¯re not an adventurer. You¡¯re a foreigner, is that it? That is not magic, not around here. I don¡¯t know what mana-less hole you crawled out of, but what you just did is a disgusting party trick enjoyed only by the polluted. Come back when you have real magic, and maybe we can find a use for you in the lower ring. Maybe.¡± The guard brushed me away with a gesture of his hand. I shuffled away, feeling dejected. That¡¯s what I get for thinking I was special. Before I took more than a couple of steps, I heard shouting from behind me. I turned to see what the commotion was - and saw the guard I had just been talking to was looking as well. We were both looking at the next guard over, and the woman he was dealing with. ¡°Please!¡± the woman begged. She was gaunt, dressed in scraps and filth, and held a baby in the crook of one arm. The baby looked even worse than she did. ¡°My child will die without healing! Just let me inside, you can escort me to the healers, and then I¡¯ll leave! I¡¯m not asking to be allowed to live in the city, just for help. Please!¡± ¡°You should have thought of that before lowering yourself to the level of a dog. Begone.¡± The woman wailed. She dropped to the ground, groveling at the man¡¯s feet. The guard looked down at her in disgust. ¡°Get off of me, you cur!¡± He kicked the woman in the jaw with his boot, sending her splaying out on the dirt. ¡°You vermin have no shame.¡± Then he raised his spear. I didn¡¯t think. I just drew my gun. ¡°Stop!¡± I yelled, aiming the revolver at the guard. ¡°Leave her alone or I shoot.¡± It was stupid. I didn¡¯t really know why I was doing it. I didn¡¯t know the woman. Why should I care? But I had a firearm. And it was loaded this time. Maybe I had a chance. He wasn¡¯t so armored that it would stop a bullet. At least, I didn¡¯t think so. ¡°What are you doing, you idiot?¡± The guard I had been talking to before asked me, raising his own spear. ¡°This is a weapon of great power,¡± I said in a loud voice. I pointed back and forth - now at the guard with the woman, now at the guard nearest me. ¡°Like nothing you¡¯ve ever seen. It can kill a man dead in an instant. Leave the woman alone, or you¡¯re dead.¡± The crowd fell into silence. I felt hundreds of eyes on me. ¡°You fool,¡± my guard said. He held out one hand, and I pointed the gun at him. ¡°Don¡¯t make one more move,¡± I said. What the hell are you going to do now, huh? Fucking idiot. Going to shoot some guards? Going to, what, shoot your way through? There are more guards here than bullets, you moron. Then the guard closed his hand into a fist. I didn¡¯t understand what he was doing at first, until I felt the movement in my own hand. I watched in horror as the revolver was crushed and deformed into a useless hunk of metal. Then the guard struck me in the head with the butt of his spear, and I lost consciousness. Chapter 12 - A Friend of Yours? I awoke in faint light, barely able to make out my surroundings. ¡°Drink this,¡± I heard someone say, faintly. Cool liquid was poured into my mouth, which I drank greedily, forgetting myself in my thirst. It tasted of mint, and dirt. The person giving me the drink took it away before I¡¯d had my fill. ¡°You can have more later. It wouldn¡¯t do to give you an upset stomach as well.¡± I tried to make out the face of my benefactor, still half-asleep and unremembering. I thought at first it was Tom, so I said, ¡°Thanks, Tom,¡± with a weak voice. Someone else laughed. There was someone else in the room. ¡°He must have taken quite the blow to the head. He¡¯s been calling you Tom all night.¡± ¡°He¡¯s just disoriented,¡± said not-Tom, who now, coming into greater focus, appeared to be a woman. ¡°He¡¯ll be fine. And he¡¯ll have learned a valuable lesson.¡± The other party scoffed. In a flash, I remembered. Tom gone. Need money. Different dimension. I tried to blink away the fog. I was in a tent, I supposed. A large tent, but not necessarily a nice one. Piles of blankets on the ground showed me that many people slept here, at times. The remains of a fire sat nearby, still warm and glowing. A flap hung over the doorway, slightly eschewed, letting in the faint sunlight - the only light in the room. There was little else inside, besides a few small piles of clothes and belongings. ¡°Who,¡± I tried to say, but started coughing. I was offered the drink again, and took it. The woman who handed it to me was middle-aged, wearing a deep tan and worn robes. She was attractive, or had been once, but the years had not been kind to her. Hardship had kept her lean, however. Too lean. Malnourished. I tried again. ¡°Where am I?¡± I asked. ¡°Hell,¡± said the other voice. I looked over. There was a young man there, probably a couple of years younger than myself. College-aged, I guess you would say. He stood against one of the wooden pillars that held up the tent, which I hadn¡¯t noticed before. Apparently these pillars were at least sturdy enough for him to lean his weight against it. He stood there, arms crossed, gazing down at my benefactor and I. He was thin and wiry, but muscular. That sort of sinewy muscle that comes from hard labor and few meals. His hair was short, and cut jaggedly, as if with a knife. Brown hair, and green eyes which glared at the woman with a fiery hatred. He had a harsh face of points and edges, but not ugly. ¡°Don¡¯t mind him,¡± the woman said, and her voice soured. ¡°He should be getting his lazy butt to work, but instead he¡¯s decided to stand around here and complain.¡± ¡°Work for what? My pittance? What¡¯s the point, mother?¡± ¡°The point is staying alive.¡± The man shook his head, but said no more about it. I knew better than to get involved with family spats. ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked. ¡°Why am I here?¡± My mind was still catching up with the previous day¡¯s events. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry about all of that,¡± the woman said, her voice suddenly sweet. ¡°I was just about to tell you, before my son here distracted me.¡± She shot the man a glance. ¡°My name is Anwyl, and this is my dear son Cadoc. I don¡¯t imagine he¡¯ll bother saying hello to you.¡± ¡°My mother shames me without cause. I am happy to greet you, traveler. What are you called?¡± I suddenly remembered something. ¡°What happened to the woman? And her child.¡± ¡°The child is dead,¡± Anwyl said. ¡°Probably dead before she even came to the gate. The woman was crazy. She¡¯ll come to terms with her loss, poor soul. I think she¡¯s working now, like this one should be.¡± We were all quiet for a little while. Eventually, I remembered I had been asked a question. ¡°Miles,¡± I said. ¡°My name is Miles James.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°A traveler named Miles,¡± the man said, as if to himself. ¡°Either your parents knew your future well, or you are giving me a false name.¡± ¡°It¡¯s my real name,¡± I said. ¡°Take it or leave it.¡± ¡°I will take it. I meant no offense. Were you called Path or Distance or Journey, I would still admire your courage. To answer your other question, you are here because the guard did not wish to lower himself to kill you, and we could not watch as a hero died of thirst in the street.¡± Now it was Anwyl¡¯s turn to scoff. ¡°More like we couldn¡¯t let a fool die at our doorstep. If the guard had chosen to kill you, you¡¯d be buried by now - if anyone even bothered to bury you. Be thankful that Seisyll spared you, so that you may learn the error of your ways.¡± ¡°Seisyll didn¡¯t spare him. The guard did.¡± ¡°Do not speak another word to me, Cadoc. I don¡¯t want to hear it.¡± ¡°Who is Seisyll?¡± I asked. Anwyl¡¯s eyes lit up, while Cadoc groaned. ¡°Seisyll is our patron, god of peace. He has surely spared you so that you may learn the lessons of peace, and never again pick impossible fights.¡± I thought about that. Is it possible that this world contains a pantheon of gods? Or perhaps some sort of mighty beings that may as well be gods? I suppose it is a different dimension, so maybe. I¡¯ll have to be careful. ¡°Do not fill his ears with such things, Mother. Did you not hear him? ¡®Who is Seisyll?¡¯ he said. A man of his bravery does not even know the existence of such a god. Seisyll¡¯s peace has no place in him.¡± If I knew better than to get involved in a family spat, I also knew I wanted nothing to do with a religious dispute. I interrupted them both before the argument turned any hotter. ¡°Thank you both. You have been a great help. But I have nothing I can give to repay you.¡± ¡°Speak nothing of it,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°A hero deserves nothing less.¡± He seemed to like hearing himself talk, and spoke in an almost grand way, compared to the speech of his mother. I wondered where he picked it up from. ¡°A fool deserves nothing more,¡± Anwyl muttered. ¡°And I don¡¯t see why we couldn¡¯t ask him for some help¡­¡± ¡°Help? You wish to send him to the fields, so that he may earn another pittance for us to add to our coffers. But after he feeds himself, what will be left? Besides, my honor will not allow it. To force a man with his spirit into servitude would bring shame on our family like it has never known, even in our current, degraded state.¡± Cadoc talked about me like I had slain a dragon, rather than assaulted a police officer. I don¡¯t know how I made such a good impression, but I guess I¡¯ll take it. I¡¯m just happy I don¡¯t owe anyone more money. Although I should do something. I spoke quickly again, trying to stop the arguing. ¡°I have some food I could share,¡± I said. I don¡¯t really love the idea of losing it, but¡­ ¡°Where is my backpack? Did someone grab it?¡± ¡°It is here,¡± Cadoc replied. He brought the bag over to me, where I was lying on the floor, in a pile of rags. ¡°No one has opened it. I made sure of that.¡± He shot a look at his mother, as if he suspected that she would have stolen from me, if she could have. Is that why he stayed here, instead of working? Does he have so low of an opinion of his own mother? I opened the pack, and took out a handful of MREs. The pack was full of them, but I still grimaced internally at the idea of giving food away. But they did save my life. ¡°This is food,¡± I said. ¡°It tastes terrible, but it will give you strength.¡± I handed a few to Anwyl, and a few to Cadoc. They turned the packages over in their hands, gawking. ¡°What strange food,¡± Anwyl said. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like it. You must come from very far away, traveler.¡± ¡°Well, they¡¯re not-¡° open yet, I almost said, but before I could finish, Cadoc took a bite out of a corner of the packaging of one MRE. ¡°You weren¡¯t lying about the taste, friend,¡± he said, chewing on a bit of plastic. ¡°And the texture is atrocious.¡± I had to stop myself from laughing. I stopped him, and, at length, showed them both how to open the packaging and eat what was inside. I told them to set aside the food heaters, telling them it was not edible - that was easier than explaining how they worked to them. Especially since I didn¡¯t know how they worked in the first place. We shared an impromptu meal there, on the floor. ¡°I think I preferred the wrapper,¡± Cadoc said during the meal. Anwyl and I both laughed. ¡°Mother,¡± Cadoc said, as the meal was coming to a close. ¡°May you fetch our guest some more water?¡± ¡°The son asking the mother to go fetch water,¡± Anwyl muttered. ¡°What kind of boy have I raised?¡± But she left all the same, leaving the tent with a pail in one hand. ¡°Now then,¡± Cadoc said, as soon as his mother had left. ¡°Down to business.¡± That sounds ominous. ¡°You aren¡¯t interested in my life story, so I won¡¯t give it to you. You see the squalor we live in. I am ashamed of it, but here we are. I want out. Take me with you.¡± I blinked. What? Cadoc must have noticed my surprise. ¡°I do not ask for much. Only that you let me accompany you when you leave these slums. I cannot continue to live like this. My spirit cries out for freedom.¡± ¡°But,¡± I said, searching for the words. ¡°But I don¡¯t even know where I am going in the first place. I wanted to enter Eraztun, but I think you saw how that went.¡± Cadoc laughed heartily. ¡°Indeed I did. What a show! You will have to tell me about that weapon you tried to use, someday. But anyway, that is exactly why you are my best hope of getting out of this hell. You wanted in, and so you fought for it. You lost, but you tried, you struggled against your fate. That is more than can be said for this family.¡± He spat. ¡°Wherever it is you end up, I wish to follow. Though I have a request.¡± My mind was struggling to catch up. This man saved my life - or his mother did, I¡¯m still unsure - but do I really want him following me around? Can I trust him? On the other hand, it would be a huge help to have someone on my team who is native to this dimension, who can help steer me away from danger. He might even know where to get some money - although I suspect he wouldn¡¯t be living here if he did. Actually¡­ ¡°Have you seen another foreigner recently? Like me, carrying a weapon like mine. He would probably also be wearing extremely strange armor, armor you would never have seen in your life.¡± ¡°A friend of yours?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°No, I¡¯m afraid I haven¡¯t. Yesterday was the first time I¡¯ve ever seen such a weapon. But it would be easy to miss someone in such a crowd, even a man as strange as that.¡± I hadn¡¯t been expecting much. Well, I thought. Why not? If I can¡¯t take Tom¡¯s lead, maybe I can at least take Cadoc¡¯s lead, sometimes. But I doubt he¡¯ll stick around long, when he realizes how clueless I really am. ¡°I¡¯m traveling for two reasons,¡± I said, holding up two fingers. ¡°One is to find this man, Tom. It is extremely important that I find him. I can¡¯t say more about why. The second reason is that I am in massive debt to people that I have to repay. So, I am looking for ways to make money.¡± ¡°Perfect,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Absolutely perfect. You seek money, I seek power. Are these not two sides of the same coin? Does not money stem from power? We have common cause. I must join you. That was my request: that you help me gain power.¡± I sighed. The more he talks, the more I think he might be more trouble than he¡¯s worth. Very pushy. ¡°What do you mean, power?¡± ¡°I mean power, friend. My family rots in this hovel because we are weak. Because we do not fight. I seek the power to claim my place in the world. My parents have forbidden me the use of magic, but that is why I must leave. Only magic can grant me my wish.¡± I shook my head. I really do need a guide. I can always leave him behind if his power stuff gets too heavy. What else am I supposed to do? Wander around begging for money? ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°You can join me, if you promise to help me on my mission. In exchange, I will do what I can to help you grow in power. I imagine I might need some more power myself.¡± ¡°Then it is decided. We start now.¡± From seemingly out of nowhere, Cadoc drew a large knife. Chapter 13 - Shes a Psychopath I had tried to do the same thing with Tom, years before. Unable to figure out the secret to his success, I decided that it might just be his blood. So, if I could somehow get some of his blood¡­ The point is, when I saw Cadoc draw the blade across his palm, leaving a thin red line behind, droplets of blood springing forth immediately, I knew what he wanted before he opened his mouth. ¡°Here,¡± he said, taking the knife by the blade and offering it to me. ¡°We will swear on our blood. My immediate family may be cowards, but our blood cannot be so easily defiled after decades of honor.¡± I sighed. My internal special-person detector wasn¡¯t calibrated for this dimension yet - everyone seems special when they can do magic - but Cadoc was either special, or special, if you catch my drift. I feel like I¡¯ve already made a mistake, taking this guy with me. And what if he has fantasy AIDS? Cadoc looked at me expectantly. How big of an insult is it to refuse? ¡°We don¡¯t have this custom where I come from,¡± I said, which was only a little bit of a lie. Most people have heard of a ¡°blood brothers¡± sort of pact, but I didn¡¯t think it was common, exactly. ¡°What are you asking?¡± Cadoc smiled. ¡°Ah, what a fool I am,¡± he said. He withdrew his hand. ¡°You must truly come from far away. You will have to tell me of your country, some day. But I will not offer a blood oath to someone who does not understand it. Let us simply shake hands, then. That will be bond enough.¡± Good enough for me, I thought. We shook on it, my hand getting a palmful of blood in the exchange. He didn¡¯t flinch. Tom had refused as well, back on Earth. Not directly, but in a sort of roundabout way. Like ¡°yeah, sure, let¡¯s do that sometime,¡± but I could tell he didn¡¯t want to, and I was afraid to push the issue. Instead, I¡¯d gotten creative. You¡¯d be surprised just how bribeable the average nurse - or even doctor - is. You¡¯d think that, because they make so much money, they would be somewhat immune to that sort of offer. But you have to remember that their job is hell, and usually the only reason they put up with it is because of the money. So they¡¯re very money-motivated people, by and large, and for the right price, could even be persuaded to, for instance, take some extra blood in a patient¡¯s next blood screening, and perhaps even misplace said blood. For instance. Using loan money for such a bribe is unusual, maybe, but worth it. In case it¡¯s important to you, I should probably mention that drinking the blood of someone special like a misanthropic vampire does not, in fact, make you special. Maybe it gives you a bit of a stomach ache - and apparently, a risk of haemochromatosis, which is, luckily, rare - but it doesn¡¯t make you special. Although, you can always use a syringe to try and inject the last few drops into your veins. That doesn¡¯t work either, but feels right. ¡°Alright,¡± Cadoc said, bandaging his self-inflicted wound. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± ¡°Fine, honestly.¡± It was true. I could feel that my head had an awfully tender bruise in one spot, but other than that, I felt perfectly normal. If the blow knocked me out, shouldn¡¯t I be more injured? Or am I an absolute dweeb and I just fainted at the first hit of a fight? ¡°Good. Get ready.¡± Just then, Anwyl returned, carrying a pail of water. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you made your poor old mother go and fetch the water,¡± she said, immediately after entering. It sounded as if she had been stewing over that the entire time she was gone. Then why did she go? Couldn¡¯t she have just said no? She stopped, staring at Cadoc¡¯s bandaged hand. Then she let out a shriek that shook the tent. ¡°What are you doing?! Are you insane?¡± She seemed hysterical. Cadoc stood, now towering over Anwyl. ¡°I am leaving, mother. I cannot live another day in slavery. Our guest has agreed to take me with him.¡± She turned to me, eyes aflame with rage. ¡°How dare you. After we helped you. After we saved your life. This is how you repay us? By taking our son away? We should have left you to die.¡± I was not expecting quite this reaction. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean-¡° I started, but was interrupted. ¡°I was leaving either way,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Whether Miles had come or not. He is only a sign of divine providence blessing my choice.¡± A loud fleshy noise resounded, a violent *SMACK* as Anwyl turned and slapped her son. We were all stunned for a moment - even Anwyl, it seemed. But then she continued, as if momentum carried her forward. ¡°You are not going anywhere,¡± she said. ¡°You are going to work, then you are coming home, right here.¡± Cadoc shook his head, a pink handprint growing on his cheek, and, ignoring Anwyl, grabbed a pack from the back of the tent, from underneath a pile of blankets. He came back over to where I lay - still stunned - and offered me a hand. ¡°Do you need help getting up?¡± I took his hand automatically, still staring at the coiled viper threatening to strike again, while at the same time careful not to meet her gaze. Like a wild animal you didn¡¯t want to anger, but also couldn¡¯t risk turning your back to. After I was on my feet - a little unsteady, and with a bit of a headache, but not so bad - Anywl took a decisive step towards us, and slapped us both. It stung. I looked to Cadoc for guidance. What was I supposed to do, slap his mother in front of him? Just take it? He seemed to be ignoring his mother, now, a look of disgust on his face, mixed with resolution. He motioned for me to take my own backpack, which I did. Then, he simply made to exit the room, not saying another word. I followed. When Cadoc opened the flap of the tent, I squinted and blinked at the sudden morning brightness. I turned my head back to the interior of the tent, partially to avert my sensitive eyes. Anwyl was staring at us, sobbing. And¡­ She¡¯s a psychopath. An absolute psychopath. ¡°She¡¯s got a knife,¡± I said. Cadoc turned, and saw for himself. She was holding a large knife, well worn, which looked like it was used for cooking. Cadoc, who had been quite talkative before, said only one word. ¡°Run.¡± - Eventually we outran the knife-wielding maniac, finding ourselves panting in the shade of a massive tree, on a hill that overlooked the valley of Eraztun - though this hill too was far below the peak of the city. I think I did the right thing, I thought to myself. Right? Cadoc¡¯s mom is a crazy person. On one hand, I understand being distraught that your son is leaving home. I think if I had told my mom that I was dropping out of college or something, she might also have drawn a knife. It¡¯s not like she would have actually used it. I think. But anyway, Anwyl was dangerous. And Cadoc said himself he was going to do this eventually, with or without me. So I¡¯m not to blame, right? Or did I just cause all of that? ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked Cadoc, who had sat down, back against the deep-brown bark. The trunk of the tree was wide enough that we could both sit with our backs to it, and still leave room for a dozen more people to sit beside us. It reminded me of those trees in California that were so big they used to drive cars through them, though nowhere near as tall. He shook his head. ¡°Cowards.¡± He¡¯d been saying that a lot. That¡¯s not exactly the word I would use. Slapping someone a foot taller than you, then chasing them through the streets with a knife - crazy, sure, but I don¡¯t know about cowardly. He sat for some time. I sat down as well - head throbbing as I did - and looked out over the view this spot afforded. This tree did not sit near one of the roads that led to the city, but from here you could see two of them, and still they teemed with people. ¡°Let us think of it no more,¡± he said, at length. ¡°We have plans to discuss.¡± That suited me just fine, because the more I thought about it, the more I was certain I had fucked things up, that the whole violent episode behind us was my fault. Everywhere I go, as long as I¡¯m making my own decisions, things fall apart. Unless I find Tom soon, Cadoc will leave. There¡¯s no doubt. Staying with me is a liability, and it won¡¯t take him long to realize that. I¡¯ll need to use his help while I still can. I realized Cadoc was staring at me, so I spoke. ¡°Money, and power. That¡¯s the long and short of it, right?¡± Cadoc nodded. ¡°It doesn¡¯t get much simpler. Not easy, not easy at all - but simple.¡± I wonder how much Cadoc knows about magic. If I could turn my nails into gold, or if he could teleport expensive jewelry right off of a traveler¡¯s neck¡­ ¡°What do you know about magic?¡± I asked. He shook his head. ¡°Little. I don¡¯t even know if I have a proficiency for it, of any kind. You are a body-mage, correct?¡± One very specific part of my body, I thought, but I nodded. ¡°We do not have magic where I come from, so I¡¯m still figuring that out. But I can turn my nails into fire. The guard didn¡¯t seem very impressed by that, though.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have magic?¡± Cadoc gawked at me. ¡°How- traveler- no, my apologies, Miles, what do you mean? Do you mean it is a land of weak mages?¡± ¡°It is a land of no mages.¡± ¡°How does such a land survive? How is it not destroyed by its neighbors, razed to the ground in an instant by bandits, or monsters, or by one ambitious mage?¡± How do I put this so that he doesn¡¯t catch on that I¡¯m from another dimension? I want him to trust me, obviously. ¡°We use powerful weapons, like the one I tried to use on the guard yesterday. I wasn¡¯t bluffing, that weapon could have killed the guard instantly. Not that I wanted to kill him, exactly, but¡­ well, the guard broke it, but we have weapons like that one, except even more powerful. There¡¯s one weapon that could destroy all of Eraztun in a moment, leaving the land unlivable and the air toxic to breath. People more or less leave us alone, since they know we have that weapon.¡± ¡°Incredible,¡± he said. ¡°Though I doubt very much there is a weapon anywhere that could touch Eraztun. The wards alone would not allow it. Still, you speak of a powerful and strange nation. I have never heard such things, so it must be very, very distant from here.¡± ¡°You could walk for years, and never reach it,¡± I said. ¡°Then how did you come here?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°It was¡­It was because of a magic I don¡¯t understand.¡± Then I realized I had just told him we didn¡¯t have magic, and corrected my course. ¡°From outside our country, I guess. It brought me and my friend Tom here, stranded, without support. I don¡¯t know where he ended up, but I woke up in the desert, not far from here.¡± Cadoc laughed. ¡°That is Cho¡¯l territory. You are lucky you survived.¡± If Cadoc is going to leave me soon - which is inevitable, as soon as he realizes how crap I am - then I shouldn¡¯t be spending all this time talking about myself. ¡°What about money?¡± I asked. ¡°I desperately need money. The people I owe, they are relentless. I have to send money home, and I have¡­ something like twenty-five days left to send them part of it.¡± ¡°They would come here?¡± ¡°Maybe.¡± Probably not, honestly, but I¡¯d like to go home, at some point. ¡°If you were powerful,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°You could simply not pay.¡± I shook my head. I thought of how disappointed my mother would be. ¡°It doesn¡¯t work that way. Not in my country.¡± ¡°It always works that way.¡± A bird let out a strange cry above us. I looked up. It was like a massive raven, with wings shaped like those of a butterfly. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was a bird or a bug. ¡°Well anyway, that¡¯s the time frame I¡¯m working with. I don¡¯t imagine you have any ideas for our first move.¡± ¡°The first move is simple.¡± Cadoc replied. ¡°We have to kill.¡± Chapter 14 - Looking for Trouble Every time Cadoc said something like that, I got slightly worried. It was too ominous, too violent. Right now, he¡¯s working with me because he doesn¡¯t know me. That¡¯s simple enough. But once he does know me, he¡¯ll leave. And if he doesn¡¯t leave - well then he¡¯s trying to take advantage of me, somehow. I wasn¡¯t born yesterday. ¡°Or something,¡± Cadoc continued. ¡°Without mana - and without a weapon - I am worthless, powerless. We have to kill something so I can absorb its mana.¡± He brought his hand down in a chopping motion, to accentuate his point. Is that what happened the other day? I killed the coyodillo, and absorbed fire mana from it? ¡°Once we do that,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Then I¡¯ll know what I¡¯m working with. Even if I¡¯m a body-mage like you, it¡¯s better than nothing.¡± Is being a body-mage that bad? ¡°Does the power you get depend on what you kill?¡± I asked. Cadoc snorted. ¡°And I believed I was clueless. I apologize, Miles. I¡¯ll have to keep reminding myself that magic is not native to your land, though I still struggle to imagine such a thing. Yes, what you kill will determine what mana you absorb from it, but it will not determine how you can use it, which you are born with. All living creatures have mana, and many - probably most - have more than one type. I think perhaps you can choose the type you want, in that case, but I¡¯m not sure. No one taught me these things, you understand. I picked up what I could from overhearing conversations.¡± ¡°Can you get mana without killing something?¡± I asked. I don¡¯t mind killing some monster, not really. It felt so unreal last time that it was hard to be fazed by it. But that was back when I was shooting at a monstrous coyote, one who walked off and died where I couldn¡¯t even see it. Without a gun, if I had to be up close and personal¡­ well, that would be different. And much more dangerous. Maybe RENA could make an exception, and send me another gun? I doubt it. ¡°Yes. But that requires items that we do not have, nor could we afford them. There are potions that can do it, for instance, but a couple of slum-dwellers outside the walls aren¡¯t getting one without stealing it.¡± ¡°Could we steal it?¡± I asked. Thievery seemed like a good way to make money. Morals are less important than survival. Cadoc grinned a coy grin. ¡°I am not above robbery,¡± Cadoc replied. ¡°If you cannot keep it, you do not deserve it. But how would we accomplish this without weapons? No, it would be better to kill, first.¡± ¡°How are we supposed to kill without weapons?¡± ¡°There are ways. Besides,¡± he pointed at the baseball bat strapped to my pack. ¡°You have that club. That will help.¡± I imagined Cadoc strangling a coyodillo while I beat it with a bat. Then I imagined a pack of coyodillos, roasting us. ¡°I¡¯m still not convinced we shouldn¡¯t rob someone first, but let¡¯s say we get your mana first. Does it matter what we kill? We should probably kill something weak. Something small.¡± Cadoc shook his head. ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t particularly matter, just that if we kill something weak, with a useless type of mana, then my magic will be weak and useless.¡± I sighed. This was a lot to keep track of, and I felt like it was being dumped on me all at once. ¡°Well, what kind of monsters live around here? I¡¯ve already met those armored flame-spitting things, and I vote we pass on that one.¡± ¡°What, an aryote?¡± he asked, and I couldn¡¯t believe that the name this world had for them was so similar to the name I had given them, and yet so much worse. ¡°A pack of those would burn us to a crisp. Did you kill one? Is that how you got your fire mana?¡± ¡°Yeah, but that was when I had my weapon. I don¡¯t want to try it again, now.¡± Cadoc nodded. ¡°Agreed. An aryote would burn up your wooden club in an instant, and your fire mana wouldn¡¯t do anything. Still, it¡¯s impressive you were able to kill one.¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. ¡°Lucky, you mean. What else lives around here?¡± Cadoc brought his hand to his chin, staring off and thinking. ¡°Well, there are basurds, south of here. You entered from the South, yes? Maybe you¡¯ve seen one? Big, hairy and white, with two spears for tusks.¡± I winced. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve seen one. Isn¡¯t there something smaller?¡± Cadoc laughed. ¡°Right, yes, smaller. A bear is slightly smaller, I suppose, and they sometimes get interesting mana. A wolf is smaller. A hoop snake, perhaps?¡± I shook my head. ¡°There is no chance we¡¯re killing a wolf or a bear. What¡¯s a hoop snake?¡± ¡°They don¡¯t have those in your country, I suppose? Imagine a normal snake - you have snakes, correct?¡± I nodded. ¡°Well, imagine a normal snake, except the size of a man, and with the habit of putting its tail in its mouth, forming into the shape of a wheel, and rolling around like that. Sometimes they have fire mana, too, in which case you end up getting chased around by a flaming wheel that wants to eat you whole.¡± ¡°And you think we can kill that?¡± He shrugged.¡°You asked what lived around here. I am only telling you.¡± I sighed. ¡°Don¡¯t you have, I don¡¯t know, mice? Rabbits? Fish?¡± ¡°Of course we do. But we would have to kill thousands of rabbits or mice to get enough mana. The mana in regular animals is very low, and hard to utilize. Otherwise, every butcher would be a mage.¡± ¡°So why are we talking about animals then?¡± ¡°We¡¯re not. When I said a bear, I meant a monstrous bear - a bear that has been corrupted by a certain type of mana. That can happen to any animal.¡± ¡°Any animal, like a rabbit.¡± He paused. ¡°Hmm. Well you¡¯ve got me there. I suppose it¡¯s possible. I¡¯ve never seen it, though.¡± ¡°Have you ever seen any monster?¡± Cadoc¡¯s face darkened. ¡°Many. When I was a child. But I will not speak of that now.¡± What¡¯s that about? ¡°Well, how does an animal get corrupted? Couldn¡¯t we just catch a rabbit, and make it corrupted?¡± Cadoc¡¯s face turned quickly to confusion. ¡°Make it corrupted¡­ huh. Perhaps. I wouldn¡¯t know how, though. I believe it¡¯s less predictable than that. You¡¯d be better asking an expert about that one.¡± ¡°Know any?¡± We both laughed. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll tell you what I do know. There are certain places, rich with mana, which corrupt their surroundings, including animals, items, the environment, even human beings. Corrupt might not be the best word. The effect isn¡¯t always negative. Influence might be more accurate, but most people say corrupt, anyway. These places can be as small as some unlucky sod¡¯s basement, and as large as an entire country, if rumors are to be believed. The smaller ones are usually called dungeons - which is a bit of a misleading name, since they can be forests, tombs, abandoned towns, or just about anything else. They tend to be isolated in some way, but even that is not set in stone. The larger ones are called labyrinths.¡± I feel like I¡¯m having a videogame described to me. I kind of wish I had played more RPGs, instead of strategy games. ¡°So monsters come from dungeons?¡± I asked. ¡°Right,¡± he said. He made motions while he spoke like an excited professor. ¡°Dungeons, over time, become absolutely infested with monsters. The closer to the center, what is called the ¡®core¡¯ of the dungeon, the more corrupted and more powerful the monsters are. The average person avoids these places, as they are incredibly dangerous. Even just living nearby can be fatal, and if a dungeon appears nearby, most people simply leave. The monsters from the dungeons have a habit of wandering far afield, and if they don¡¯t kill you, there¡¯s always the risk of being corrupted yourself. Of course, anyone with a spine would go in and destroy the dungeon¡¯s core, which would solve both problems. But spines are a rare commodity.¡± ¡°They just appear out of nowhere? Why? How?¡± ¡°I have no idea, friend,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°But the point is, dungeons are full of very powerful magic, valuable items, and so on. So while the cowards flee from them, the bravest seek them out. They see them as splendid ways to obtain power and riches.¡± I furrowed my brows. ¡°You want us to go into a dungeon, is that it?¡± Cadoc chuckled. ¡°Now that you mention it¡­¡± ¡°And just how dangerous are these places?¡± ¡°Dangerous? Well, I suppose¡­ it depends on the dungeon, of course, but even with weaker ones¡­ maybe a quarter of the people who enter them die? That¡¯s just a guess based off of what I¡¯ve heard. Most people talk about the really dangerous, exciting ones, full of the best treasure and such. With those ones, almost no one returns.¡± Oh yeah, great. Chance of survival between 75% and 0%. Cool. And these are professionals dying in these places? Yeah, I don¡¯t know about this. ¡°There¡¯s a fine line between brave and stupid,¡± I said. ¡°And this sounds stupid.¡± ¡°I respect your opinion,¡± Cadoc said, although usually when someone said that, it meant the opposite. ¡°But you are a foreigner. This is the best way.¡± ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you do it before, yourself? Why wait until I came along?¡± ¡°You spoke of a line between bravery and stupidity? That is the line. No one enters a dungeon alone, if they want to survive. Of course, there are suicides. Dungeons are a favorite spot for killing yourself.¡± They sound like wonderful places, I thought, rolling my mind¡¯s eyes. ¡°There¡¯s no better way to make money? I¡¯m still leaning towards robbery.¡± ¡°Nothing beats a dungeon. Besides, I know about a little one that popped up nearby. Safe as can be, nothing to worry about. It¡¯s only still around because it¡¯s too new, and too small for a serious dungeon hunter to seek it out. It¡¯s perfect. And it¡¯s not like we need to clear it out. We just need to kill one monster near the entrance. We might not even need to go inside.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve made up your mind,¡± I said. Cadoc was exhausting. I¡¯d known him for all of an afternoon and I already felt myself being swept away into his plans. Cadoc nodded. ¡°I understand that you lost your weapon. But this is the first step to power and wealth. If we die, so be it. It¡¯s better than wasting away here.¡± ¡°Some of us enjoy being alive, believe it or not.¡± Enjoy? Have I been enjoying life? There¡¯s a question. But I can¡¯t just turn Cadoc away. Not until I have someone to trade up to. And damnit, Tom would go. I hate you, Tom. Making me do stupid shit like this. ¡°What if we don¡¯t go?¡± ¡°If we don¡¯t go, it will be months from now before we either find someone rich enough - and yet dumb or weak enough - to be able to be robbed without magic. Maybe I¡¯m being too pessimistic, but good luck finding a man of such wealth outside of the walls. Or, we spend just as long wandering around, hoping to stumble upon a monster just outside the best-defended city on the map.¡± I sighed. ¡°Fine. But at the first sign of danger, we run, alright? We¡¯re going so we can get mana, not so we can die a noble death or some BS like that. And after this, we¡¯re robbing someone. I don¡¯t care how bad the magic you get is. I need money. If you get the power to turn your skin green, that¡¯s that, and we go figure out how to use that to rob someone. I know I know, ¡®itll take months,¡¯ I don¡¯t want to hear it. We¡¯ll put out heads together and figure it out. So no do-overs, no ¡®woah, look, if we go a little further, I can get even better magic,¡¯ none of that. In, out, gone. Agreed?¡± Cadoc beamed at me like a little kid who had just convinced his parents to get him ice cream. ¡°I knew you would come around. It¡¯s decided.¡± He looked around, as if just now noticing where he was. ¡°And it¡¯s still early, yet. If we leave now, we should be able to make it before nightfall. We¡¯ll make camp near the dungeon, and start our attack tomorrow morning.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that an incredibly dangerous spot to set up camp?¡± ¡°Why? Because a wandering monster might attack? We¡¯re looking for trouble, Miles. It would be perfect if that happened. Besides, we¡¯ll sleep in shifts.¡± I was regretting my decision already. Chapter 15 - Were You Sleeping? ¡°Why did I let you talk me into this?¡± I said to Cadoc. The latch on the door had already broken. The only thing keeping the monster at bay was the two of us pressed up against a wooden door that looked increasingly fragile. My heart skipped a beat every time the crash came, and the door cracked and groaned. ¡°Because you¡¯re brave,¡± Cadoc said, and I wished I hadn¡¯t asked. Because I¡¯m stupid. Because I¡¯m stupid and I decided to follow you, I decided to take your lead instead of realizing how stupid this plan was and leaving. These might be my last moments, but I¡¯m not going without a fight, I decided. I won¡¯t give them all the satisfaction. - Cadoc hadn¡¯t been joking when he said the dungeon was close by. We left early in the morning, and crested the hill near the site that same afternoon. Cadoc talked the entire time. Most of it is not worth remembering - small talk. ¡°What a beautiful day,¡± he said, stretching his arms out to the heavens. ¡°And I¡¯m free!¡± He yelled this at the top of his lungs. Startled birds abandoned their nests in nearby trees, cawing in protest at the noise. ¡°This is the taste of freedom, my friend. How does it feel?¡± ¡°I think my skin is peeling. This sunburn is nasty.¡± He clapped his hand on my shoulder. ¡°Worry not! Soon, your weak skin will peel off, and beneath, a stronger, heartier skin will takes it¡¯s place. It is through little moments like these that we are reborn, casting off our old selves to be remade into men of strength.¡± And on and on like that, the entire journey. I wanted to slip away and ask RENA if she thought he was mental, but couldn¡¯t find the opportunity. Trying to steer the conversation to something practical, I asked Cadoc what he had in his bag. ¡°Ah,¡± he said, turning to me, walking backwards. ¡°Yes, I will admit that my pack rides light. But we will fill it with treasure soon enough! Plenty of room for monster skulls and animal hides, and big chunks of meat.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure what he thought I was implying by the question, but I really just wanted to know what we were working with. I asked for specifics. He had a knife - the one he¡¯d used on himself, earlier - a day or two¡¯s worth of dried meat, a large canteen - lucky, because I had forgotten to fill mine - a couple sets of spare clothes, and a large bottle of what looked like distilled alcohol. ¡°This is my prized possession,¡± he said. ¡°To be had at the time of our victory. I¡¯ve been saving it for months, squirreled away ever since I *ahem* found it. As we are partners now, we will share it, after we kill our mark.¡± ¡°What is it?¡± I asked. I didn¡¯t think you could make vodka with medieval technology, but that¡¯s exactly what it looked like - some sort of high-proof grain alcohol. ¡°This, my friend, is the finest bottle of alchemist¡¯s brew within-¡° he looked around ¡°ten miles of here. Twenty miles, even!¡± ¡°Is it strong?¡± ¡°Is it strong, he says. If you drank this whole bottle, Miles, you would die a comfortable death. But since we will split it, we will both merely celebrate raucously. So yes, it is strong.¡± A knife, a bottle of liquor, and beef jerky. Am I traveling with a mage-to-be, or a redneck looking for a good time? It soon became obvious that we were approaching the dungeon. The grass grew taller, the trees, once sparsely scattered, clung together in gnarled masses, and the air grew so thick with humidity that I almost feared we would drown in it. My clothes stuck to my skin like I was covered in sweat, although it was actually rather cool. ¡°It¡¯s the dungeon,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Its corruption spreads, changing the land around it to match itself. I¡¯m thinking it¡¯s likely to be attuned to some sort of plant mana, and maybe water as well. We must be close. A dungeon this small wouldn¡¯t spread very far in such little time.¡± He was right. We peeked over the next hill, and saw it. ¡°Get down!¡± I said in a violent whisper. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Ahead of us was a forest, or maybe something between a forest and a swamp. The trees interlocked into thick, impenetrable walls of bark and wood, except in one place, directly ahead of us, where the trunks and branches curved into an arch over a foreboding entrance. To the right of it was a small wooden cabin. I imagined it had seen better days. It looked like the owners had abandoned it, but it was clearly under new ownership - the forest. The forest was slowly claiming it - vines had slithered over the walls like greedy fingers, blocking the windows. I had the impression that at any moment, the dungeon would close its vined fist, wrenching the house off its foundation and into its maw. The door was still uncovered, and left slightly ajar, but no light came from inside. In the dying light of the afternoon, the scene looked incredibly ominous, but that wasn¡¯t why I had made Cadoc drop to the ground. I took in all of the surroundings in a moment, but my focus was on the creature to the left of the entrance, picking at the grass. For a fraction of a second, I thought it was simply another part of the scenery that the forest had claimed as its own, the interlocking vines signaling to the world its claim. But it moved, and the vines swirled, and I saw that the thing was very much alive. Holding my breath and laying on my stomach, I watched. It was a swirling mass of vines, like worms or snakes coiling around- around something. Whatever it was, it was roughly the size of a man, though too short and too fat, like the shape of an overgrown spud. I thought maybe I saw glimpses of something pale and wrinkled underneath, like roots, but it was impossible to tell. ¡°What the hell is it?¡± I whispered. Cadoc was lying next to me, also watching carefully, with shallow breathing. ¡°Alone,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s alone. Perfect.¡± ¡°What the hell do you mean, perfect?¡± I whispered through gritted teeth. ¡°You¡¯re not suggesting we fight that, are you? I¡¯ve never seen something so monstrous in my life.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a monster, Miles. Monstrous is to be expected.¡± ¡°Haha, really funny. I¡¯m serious, Cadoc. That thing screams danger. We¡¯d be better off fighting a coyo- an aryote.¡± Cadoc shook his head. ¡°No. This is it. It¡¯s alone, and just look at it. That doesn¡¯t look dangerous to me. That looks flammable.¡± I looked again. ¡°So what, you want me to throw my nails at it? Is that the idea?¡± ¡°Something like that, sure. We¡¯re still in the planning stage, but that¡¯s my first idea.¡± OK, good. We¡¯re planning. I thought for a second there he was just going to charge the thing. Still, my preferred plan is to run away. ¡°Assuming it¡¯s flammable,¡± I started. ¡°Which is a big assumption, I should point out - assuming it¡¯s flammable, that still doesn¡¯t mean a couple nails are going to light it up. My nails are like sparks, like a flint and steel, not like¡­¡± I almost said thermite. ¡°Not like pitch or something. Do you even know what this thing is?¡± ¡°No,¡± he admitted. ¡°But just look at it. It¡¯s made out of vines, how could it not be flammable?¡± ¡°We should watch it longer,¡± I said. ¡°And what, hope it lights itself on fire?¡± ¡°Just watch. We need to know more.¡± Cadoc didn¡¯t say anything, but he didn¡¯t move. We spent another hour or so watching the monster, as the sun slowly moved towards sunset. My body grew stiff and cold in the wet grass, but I kept watching. It didn¡¯t leave the spot it was in. The monster just kept picking at the ground with its vine limbs, but I still couldn¡¯t see what it was picking at. There was something there, some mass. ¡°Can you make out what the thing is next to it?¡± I asked. ¡°Huh?¡± Cadoc said, loud enough to make me jump. I froze, shifting my gaze to the monster. Luckily, the monster didn¡¯t seem to have heard him. Did it even have ears? I thought. I turned to Cadoc. He was rubbing his eyes. ¡°Were you sleeping?¡± ¡°Perhaps,¡± he said, stifling a yawn. ¡°Unbelievable.¡± ¡°Have you come up with a plan yet?¡± Oh, so this is my responsibility, huh? Great. ¡°How important is it that we kill a monster? Really?¡± ¡°It¡¯s the difference between success, and failure,¡± Cadoc said, surprisingly alert already. ¡°I will admit that if I¡¯m a body mage, like you, then our chances are still pretty terrible. But if I¡¯m unhindered¡­ think of the POWER, Miles. We would be taking our first step towards greatness. It is imperative that we kill this monster.¡± ¡°And next, we get money, right?¡± ¡°Absolutely. A deal is a deal. Power for me, then money for you. Easy.¡± Am I making a decision, or am I just along for the ride? Would I even be able to tell the difference? But I need Cadoc, and if this is what it takes to win his support¡­ ¡°Fine. Then I have a plan. It¡¯s going to cost me my weapon though, so I¡¯m trusting you that this is worth it. Hand me the bottle.¡± ¡°What? Why? Now is not the time to celebrate.¡± ¡°How much do you want power? Enough to spill some booze?¡± He handed it over without further questions. ¡°Absolutely. You¡¯ve got that same look in your eyes, Miles. When you challenged the guards, you had that look.¡± ¡°Well don¡¯t tell me that, Cadoc. That look means I¡¯m about to do something stupid.¡± I smiled despite myself. I¡¯d thought of something I¡¯d seen in a movie, once. I hoped it worked in real life. ¡°Now hand me a shirt, too.¡± He did. I took the bat from my pack, and wrapped the shirt around the fat end. Then, uncorking the bottle, I soaked the shirt with alcohol. I tried not to get any on the part I¡¯d be holding. I used maybe a third of the bottle. It wasn¡¯t fancy, but it¡¯d light pretty well, I thought. I pulled a few nails from my pocket, and did my best to get them in the folds of the shirt, where I hoped they wouldn¡¯t immediately fall out. ¡°Alright Cadoc. How brave are you feeling?¡± ¡°Brave enough to die. What¡¯s the plan?¡± ¡°The plan is, you distract it, and I light it on fire with this torch. What do you think?¡± He nodded. ¡°Good plan. Simple. Elegant.¡± ¡°Stupid, is the word you¡¯re looking for,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s a stupid plan that is only a hair better than your ¡®throw nails at it¡¯ idea. It involves you putting yourself in danger, and then me getting close enough to the monster to give it a hug.¡± ¡°You complain too much.¡± I pointed my weapon at him. ¡°And you¡¯re too reckless.¡± I sighed. ¡°Let¡¯s just get this over with. Fucking Tom.¡± ¡°Tom? Your friend?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯m just cursing his name.¡± Cadoc¡¯s eyes drifted for a moment before he brought his focus back. He turned back to face the monster. ¡°I¡¯ll circle around the edge of this hill, so you can get behind him.¡± ¡°Him?¡± I asked. ¡°Did you catch a glimpse of something I didn¡¯t?¡± ¡°Him, her, what does it matter? Soon there¡¯ll be nothing left but ashes.¡± He started off, crawling on his stomach. The dungeon¡¯s entrance lay at the bottom of a bowl-shape created by the hills, so it was simple enough to sneak around the outside. I crawled in the opposite direction. We wouldn¡¯t be able to get directly on opposite sides of the monster, but we could get close. As long as the thing didn¡¯t have extreme peripheral vision, I¡¯d still catch it by surprise. Does it even have vision? I didn¡¯t see eyes, or ears, or anything. Maybe it¡¯s just a plant. A monstrous plant, but a plant nonetheless. Maybe I¡¯m worried for nothing, and this will be as easy as attacking a tree. I¡¯d gone about as far as I could, and looked across the little valley, unable to see Cadoc. We hadn¡¯t agreed on a signal, so Cadoc didn¡¯t wait for one. I jumped as his shout rang out, shattering the silence of the twilight hours. ¡°Prepare to be slain, foul beast!¡± He charged out from behind the hill, knife in hand. ¡°Your day of judgment has come. Know that your conquerer is I, Cadoc!¡± Almost before he had finished the sentence, a bolt of vines shot out from the monster, covering the yards between them in a flash. Chapter 16 - Like a Tube of Yogurt The wriggling tentacles of the monster grabbed at Cadoc, as if trying first to immobilize his arms. The monster let out a noise like the wailing of an inconsolable child. I tried to cover my ears. It didn¡¯t help. Cadoc had managed to slice at one of the incoming vines with his knife, but another caught his left hand. The vine he hit was merely deflected - I had imagined it would have been cut clean off. Instead, only a small incision on the surface, which bled shockingly-red blood. It retracted back to the monster, but along the floor of the clearing, a sea of vines rose towards him like the tide. ¡°Well, are you just going to stand there watching?¡± The cheerful voice came from between my ears. Which should have meant RENA, but it wasn¡¯t. It was Tom¡¯s voice. ¡°Fuck you, Tom,¡± I said to the phantom, rising to my feet. ¡°Wow,¡± Tom said, and I could hear his shit-eating grin. ¡°Is that any way to greet a friend?¡± I wanted to yell in his face, but I could only hear him, so I pointed a finger at the sky. ¡°You left me here. What kind of friend does that make you, huh?¡± ¡°Sounds kind of like how you¡¯re leaving your new friend right now.¡± ¡°He¡¯s not my friend.¡± Cadoc was struggling to free himself, but the vine grasping his left wrist was slowly reeling him in like a fishing line. ¡°You struggle in vain, fiend!¡± he yelled. ¡°Soon, your corpse will fertilize your brothers!¡± But he is my only ally. I began running, makeshift-torch in hand. I prepared my mana, focusing on the little threads connecting me to the nails in the shirt. I winced as I sensed a couple fall out, but most stayed put. A different voice in my head shouted at me to stop. It was my mom¡¯s voice. She told me this was too dangerous, that I didn¡¯t owe Cadoc anything, that this was his idiot idea and that his death was simple Darwinism. The other voice - Tom¡¯s - told me to fight. Tom¡¯s voice won out, but not because it was inspiring or motivating or something. I sprinted towards the monster filled with rage. A vine shot towards me, despite the fact that the monster must have been turned away. Does it have eyes all around? Or does it not even need eyes? ¡°I see you¡¯re busy,¡± Tom¡¯s voice had been saying. ¡°We can talk later. For now, step to the left,¡± I didn¡¯t react in time. The vine wrapped around my torso in an instant. I clawed at it with one hand, panicking, forgetting everything else. It tightened like a boa constrictor, and I thought I could hear my ribs creaking as the pressure mounted. But I wasn¡¯t sure if I really heard it. I was ¡°hearing¡± all kinds of things. ¡°Well, I tried to help,¡± Tom said. ¡°I tried to help him, too.¡± Another voice. One I hadn¡¯t heard in person since childhood. Ryan¡¯s. ¡°He let his guard down again. You¡¯d think he¡¯d learn.¡± ¡°Shut up!¡± I screamed at the voices. ¡°Shut up shut up shutupshutupshutup!¡± I would have kept yelling, if my breath wasn¡¯t being squeezed out of my lungs like one of those tubes of yogurt my mom bought me as a kid. I still had the bat, my knuckles white against the handle. I lit the nails with a thought. The end of the bat whooshed into flames. I brought it down, struggling to keep from dropping it, touching it to the vines. It burned. Slowly, but it burned. I watched as the ¡°arm¡± of the vines caught, and the flames ate away at the plant matter. The monster let out another yell, and suddenly I could breath again. The vine around my waist dropped to the floor, amputated and cauterized by the fire. It looked as if it was rotting already, turning brown before my eyes. But I didn¡¯t have time for that. I ran, keeping my torch in front of me, praying that the fire wouldn¡¯t go out. If the wind picked up suddenly, I didn¡¯t know if the alcohol and wood would hold out. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Cadoc was struggling, sawing away as the vine that held his left hand. It was as thick as his arm, and his knife seemed much too small for the job. The wave of vines was almost upon him, a surge of dark green serpents which twisted in every direction even as they advanced, like they weren¡¯t limbs of a monster, but snakes caught in the middle, half-innocent creatures being used as a weapon whether they liked it or not. Even in the heat of the battle, I couldn¡¯t quiet my mind. Why can¡¯t they all shoot out at him, like the others did? Why are they crawling across the ground, instead of flying through the air like javelins? Does the monster only have two or three good vines? I was only a few yards away by this point, and my nerves were primed, ready to jump out of the way if the monster¡¯s other ¡°good vine¡± shot out at me. ¡°Right,¡± Tom said, before I even saw the suggestion of movement. Out of spite, I moved left. The vine shot over my right shoulder. It whizzed by like a bullet. At this close of a range, I thought it might have impaled me. ¡°I knew you would do that,¡± Tom whispered in my ear. ¡°Fuck! You!¡± I screamed, closing the final gap with the monster. I held the torch out, and thought I could see the monster try to squirm away at the last second. Then the torch connected. I had to stop myself from shoving it straight into the shifting vines, afraid that it would be snuffed out from the lack of oxygen. Another scream broke out, this one more pitiful that the others. I smiled. Good. Burn, you piece of shit. As if by reflex, all of the creature¡¯s limbs - vines, whatever - retracted, as if the monster was trying to curl into a ball. Cadoc was released, and I reveled in the simple pleasure of watching the thing burn. It had always been writhing, but now it¡¯s writhing was erratic and disturbed. It flailed wildly, and surely would have knocked the torch from my hand if the creature wasn¡¯t so panicked. For whatever reason, the creature wouldn¡¯t back any further away from the fire. Maybe it¡¯s like a deer in headlights, I thought. So full of fear that it can¡¯t even choose between fight and flight. Or perhaps it is rooted to the ground, like a tree. It was impossible to tell what lay beneath its vines. That is, until the vines were burnt away. I continued to watch, the smell of smoke and copper filling my nostrils, the sounds of cackling fire mixed with the intermittent screams of the dying beast. There was something underneath the vines, after all. As the outer layers turned to ash, I saw what looked like a large root system, with thick, ginseng-like roots which tapered away into points. It was shaped vaguely like a man. I took another step forward, now completely unafraid. As I did, I felt as my foot crunched through something on the ground. I looked down to see what I had stepped on. The decaying remains of a human face looked back at me. It was little more than a skeleton, and my boot had broken through its ribcage. Before I could think, the burning creature let out another, louder scream. I turned my attention back to it, and thought I saw another face, etched into the folds of the roots. It was the face of agony. Then I was on the ground, tackled into the grass by Cadoc. The monster had finally decided to fight back, and Cadoc had pushed me out of the way at the last moment, barely dodging another green lance. The torch dropped from my hand in the scramble. ¡°Get up!¡± he yelled, pulling me to my feet again. I got to my feet, stealing a look back at the monster as I did. It was massive. It seemed like an entirely different monster. I saw a man made of roots, short and fat, with no hands, no feet, and no human features besides the general shape and the wrinkled suggestions of a scowling face. From the top of the man - not just his head, as his head and shoulders were in line, like his head had retreated down into his chest - from the top of the man grew vines, the vines which had previously clothed him, but were now arrayed above him like a peacock with vipers instead of feathers. They reached easily three times his height, and still squirmed like they had wills of their own. The man raised a root at us as I stared, as if he was pointing. Then the vines descended. ¡°Run!¡± I yelled. I didn¡¯t wait for Cadoc to respond. I ran. We couldn¡¯t run into the dungeon - there could have been hundreds of these monsters in there, for all we knew. And I didn¡¯t think we could outrun the vines for long if we just made a break for it. Not to mention the probability of tripping and falling in the nearly-descended night. The house. It was as good of a shelter as we were going to get. Either Cadoc had the same idea, or he was following me, because when I reached the door, he was right beside me. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± he said, breathlessly. I turned to look at the monster again, while scolding myself about constantly taking time to look back. Some day your curiosity is going to get you killed, I thought. A small sliver of the sun still remained, but it didn¡¯t matter. The vines were blocking out the sun. ¡°Get in!¡± I yelled. That was as much of a plan as I had at that moment. We both hurried inside, slamming the door shut behind us. I latched the door - a tiny latch, like what you would put on a gate in your backyard. It didn¡¯t inspire confidence, but I reassured myself that the monster didn¡¯t even have hands. I took a breath. It seemed like I hadn¡¯t been breathing for a long time. It felt good, until I coughed, the air musty and damp. The torch. The thought hit me like - well, like that monster probably would have. I dropped the fucking torch. I scanned the room quickly. This was likely to be only the briefest of respites. I didn¡¯t know if the monster could walk, or if the vines could reach this far, but I couldn¡¯t just cross my fingers. We needed a new plan. A new weapon. Cadoc had seated himself in a wooden chair. I realized he was talking. ¡°It was a good start,¡± he said. ¡°Nearly did it. If a bard had been watching, they¡¯d sing songs about us.¡± ¡°We need a new plan,¡± I said. ¡°I dropped the torch.¡± ¡°So you did. So you did.¡± Cadoc looked like his mind was elsewhere. It took awhile for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. The house was a one-room cabin. All the walls were wood, as was the crudely hewn table and the three chairs around it - one of which Cadoc was sitting on. There was a fireplace on the wall to the left, while the table was more to the right, below a window. There was no bed - only a pile of furs and blankets on the floor before the fireplace. The fireplace was black with use, and a cooking pot hung there. I walked over, and saw that there was still soup inside, though it smelt foul and inedible. Above the fireplace was a mantle, and on it was a single lantern. It was incredibly dim in the room - only the moonlight leaking in through the window provided any light. I took out a nail, stuck it into the oil in the lantern, and lit it. To my pleasant surprise, it worked. The lantern cast light over the room. In the back, there was a cellar door, closed. Some sort of root cellar, I supposed. I hoped we wouldn¡¯t need to retreat down there. Everything else of note was on the walls, either on simple wooden shelves, or hung on hooks. Pots and pans, a little broom, old jars of what may have been food, an axe, herbs hung from the roof, and all kinds of junk. The only thing resembling a weapon was the axe. I took it off the wall, and handed it to Cadoc. ¡°Here. You¡¯ll do better with this than I will, I¡¯m guessing.¡± ¡°I¡¯d guess the same, friend. Besides, you have magic.¡± He said this with a grin, clearly poking fun at my magical ineptitude, as if we weren¡¯t about to die from it. I didn¡¯t answer. Instead, I watched, frozen in fear, as a vine snaked its way through the window. And then another one. Chapter 17 - Whack-a-Mole Cadoc sprung into action. He was at the window in a flash, and hacked away both vines with one swing, the axe cleaving straight through them. Red blood sprayed out in an arc, then pooled at Cadoc¡¯s feet. He looked at the axe in admiration. ¡°Well well well,¡± he said. ¡°Not a bad weapon, eh?¡± There was no time to celebrate. The room reverberated with the sound of creaking wood as another vine wormed its way in - this time through a gap in the wooden wall. I wasn¡¯t sure if that gap had been there before, or not. Another vine came through the window, and a third snaked down from the ceiling. ¡°Do you have a plan?¡± Cadoc asked, already moving. He didn¡¯t wait for me to answer, already starting his life-or-death game of whack-a-mole. A violent overhead swing brought another vine to its bloody end, the severed part writhing for a moment on the wooden floor. Cadoc made for the next vine before the previous one had even stopped dying. ¡°No,¡± I yelled. We were both yelling over the sound of vines wrenching at wood. And another sound. Like massive footsteps, growing louder. ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll run out of vines, eventually?¡± Cadoc asked. And he actually laughed, the maniac. I was out of ideas. The torch was gone. What an idiot you are, Miles. A complete and utter buffoon. You left behind your one and only weapon, why? Because you were scared? You¡¯re pathetic. Now you¡¯re going to die here - which is no tragedy - but you went and dragged this innocent bystander into your mess, too. How do you feel, huh? Do you feel any shame? Any guilt? You should. I tried to block out the voices. You get a sense, after awhile, of which voices are helpful, and which ones weren¡¯t. This one wasn¡¯t. To be clear, I¡¯m not crazy. The voices are just my conscience. And most people don¡¯t know this, but you can adjust your conscience, which is why my conscience usually sounded like Tom. Sometimes the old conscience broke through - well, one of the many iterations. Of course, I¡¯d never actually heard them before, not that clearly. It was more like a thought, usually. Not like Tom was earlier, like he was sitting right beside me, having a conversation. But I¡¯d also never been in an environment that was as stressful as this dimension, before. So it only made sense that the voices might be louder. So I¡¯m not crazy. I ran around the room, looking through bits of junk, as if there would be a solution sitting there on the shelf. A gun - or even better, a flamethrower. Instead, junk. An old cup. A jar of pickled something or other. A key - to what, I didn¡¯t know. There wasn¡¯t a lock on the door, or the cellar. Maybe it didn¡¯t go to anything. A key to nothing. It was all worthless. What would Tom do? I couldn¡¯t shake that thought no matter what I did, not that I wanted to. But I couldn¡¯t think of anything. I just knew Tom would do something obvious, something genius and yet simple, and it would seem like a child could have come up with it. Instead, I was running in circles like one of those knock-off robot vacuums, stuck between impending doom and- And a cellar. What if it wasn¡¯t a cellar? What if it was a tunnel? ¡°I¡¯m going to check out the cellar!¡± I yelled to Cadoc. He waved at me to show he heard. He was grinning from ear to ear, patches of that strange plant-blood staining his clothes. He seemed to love the battle more than he loved his life. The cellar door opened easily enough. The faint light of the lantern reached only a few feet inside, from where it still lay on the fireplace. I went back and grabbed the lantern, stepping over the remains of dead vines. There were some wooden steps leading down, and then dirt floor. Besides that, I still couldn¡¯t see anything but rough dirt walls. It was impossible to know what was down there. And if I took the light with me, Cadoc wouldn¡¯t be able to see. Fuck. Do we go down into the cellar and hope it¡¯s a tunnel? But if it¡¯s not, we¡¯re screwed. And why would it be? Who digs tunnels under their house? Then came the crashing. I turned, horrified, and caught a glimpse of the door shaking in its frame. I ran to it without thinking - as did Cadoc. I reached it just in time for another crash. The latch broke, and I was thrown backwards, catching a glimpse of the monster before Cadoc slammed the door shut again. I scrambled to the door to help him hold it fast. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. We were barely able to keep it closed, and every crash threatened to splinter the door entirely. ¡°It was a damn good try,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Damn good try.¡± ¡°Do you want to die?¡± I yelled at him. ¡°You seem so fucking content every time something bad happens.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not giving up,¡± he said. ¡°Never. But unless you have a plan, I¡¯m prepared to die fighting this thing. Nothing more, nothing less.¡± He paused. ¡°Do you have a plan?¡± Do I have a plan. No. No I don¡¯t. ¡°RENA!¡± I yelled. I put my hand to my ear, even though I knew that was unnecessary. I knew Cadoc would be confused, but I didn¡¯t have time to care. The voice came from inside my head, as always. ¡°Hello, Miles. How are you doing?¡± I felt my face grow warm for a moment as my blood boiled. RENA knew exactly how I was doing, so why ask? Just to rub it it? Actually, people usually ask how you¡¯re doing because they want to tell you how they¡¯re doing. But an AI shouldn¡¯t be looking for pleasant conversation, right? An AI wouldn¡¯t be bragging, or looking for sympathy, or whatever. Another crash. I shook the thought away. Who cares? ¡°I¡¯m in trouble, RENA. I¡¯m going to die. You can see that, can¡¯t you? So can¡¯t you send me something? Or¡­¡± I almost said ¡®get me out of here,¡¯ but realized that I would be abandoning Cadoc. Then I realized that was his fucking problem, and said it anyway. Except I said ¡®us.¡¯ Get ¡®us¡¯ out of here. Not that they would ever take him, but it sounded better. ¡°I am afraid that is not possible, Miles. Would you like me to repeat what I told you before?¡± ¡°What about Tom?¡± ¡°Still nothing, Miles. We have talked about this already, as well.¡± ¡°Shit!¡± I wanted to throw the communicator on the ground, smash it, something. But I didn¡¯t, of course. I just shut up. If we stay, we¡¯ll die. We can¡¯t leave - even the window is covered in vines. Maybe we could hack away at them and try to make a run for it, but then what? That thing can move, and I¡¯m not sure we¡¯ll move faster. It¡¯s better than waiting here to die, but that¡¯s assuming we can even get out the window in the first place. I looked at it. I couldn¡¯t even see outside. It was all vines. Vines which were continuing their slow crawl into the room. They were coming from everywhere now. Cadoc did his best to cut at the ones near us, but it wasn¡¯t easy to use an axe while also keeping the door shut. It was only a matter of time before the vines got to us. We could go into the cellar, but that¡¯s a gamble. An even worse gamble, honestly. And if it¡¯s just a cellar, what¡¯s to stop the monster from coming in there, too? I imagined Cadoc and I, with bleeding fingers, clawing at the earth, trying to dig our way out before the monster descended on us. I thought about what we had on us. A knife. An axe. Nails. Water. MREs. Dried meat. Alcohol. Alcohol. Fuck me. It wasn¡¯t a good plan, but it seemed obvious in hindsight, which gave it the flavor of the sort of plan Tom would come up with. Of course, I never actually came up with anything as good as Tom did, so that was just an illusion. I had been thinking of the nails like a flint and steel. Which was accurate in many ways, but I¡¯d forgotten an important detail I had found in my testing. Range. The nails, as weak as their flames were, were like little remote detonators. ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve got a plan.¡± Cadoc¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Spectacular. What do you need me to do?¡± ¡°Hand me the booze again, and then keep this door shut as long as you can. Got it?¡± He nodded, and handed me the bottle. ¡°Good luck, my friend. If it doesn¡¯t work, it¡¯s been an honor.¡± It wouldn¡¯t take long, but we didn¡¯t have long. I looked him in the eyes, and we waited for the next crash. I didn¡¯t know why, exactly, but there were sizable gaps between the crashes, so we¡¯d have maybe a minute or two to work with. The crash came, and I was off. I ran to the table, first. I grabbed a chair, and carried it over to just in front of the open cellar door. I left a little gap, but not much. Then, another chair. And the third. As I was pushing the table over to the pile, I caught a glimpse of Cadoc, back to the door, chopping at the encroaching vines. They were dangerously close. Then I started collecting the dead vines, and throwing them on the pile. I had to avoid the live ones as I did, but I couldn¡¯t risk the pile not being big enough, and the vines were flammable. Then the crash came. I had planned to grab more - the shelves, the blankets - but it was too late. Cadoc did his best to keep the door shut, but it was hopeless. The door exploded into splinters, and Cadoc was sent flying across the room. And there was the monster. ¡°Get in!¡± I yelled. The plan would have to be expedited. I hoped it would still work. It was only a few moments - the house wasn¡¯t large - but it felt like time had slowed to a crawl. Cadoc ran, hopping over vines which threatened to grab at his ankles. Meanwhile, I uncorked the bottle, and poured it over the heap of debris. I poured it all out. If we survived, then taking another breath would be celebration enough. A vine lanced at Cadoc. It was one of the good vines. Cadoc couldn¡¯t dodge while running away. He was helpless. I didn¡¯t think. I threw the bottle. It shattered in a spray of glass, right in the ¡°face¡± of the monster. That was enough to disorient it, and the vine went wide, embedding itself into the floor like an javelin. Cadoc was smiling. He was crazy. He patted me on the shoulder as he went by. ¡°Thanks,¡± he said. One last touch. I stuffed my hand into my pocket, grabbed as many nails as I could, and threw them onto the pile. Then I grabbed the cellar door, and swung it closed. I scrambled down the steps in the darkness, praying I didn¡¯t fall. I forgot to grab the lantern. It was nearly pitch black inside, after the door was closed. Only one beam of the faintest light came through, from a little hole in the door. Luckily, I made it to the dirt floor without stumbling, where Cadoc was. ¡°What now?¡± he asked. I didn¡¯t answer. I was listening. I held up my hand to silence him, but he probably didn¡¯t see it. The monster seemed to slow down whenever it couldn¡¯t see us. I couldn¡¯t imagine why that was, but it was now the second time it had happened. As if the sight of us effected it the same way a red cape effected a bull. But that didn¡¯t mean it forgot about us. I heard it coming, one earth-shaking step at a time. I took a step back, but I waited. I kept my eye on that little hole in the cellar door. The moment I couldn¡¯t see light through it anymore, I sent the mana. I had been holding it, if that makes sense, ready to strike. With a sense beyond my sense, I felt the nails burn. The hole lit up again, brighter than before, as their sparks ignited the alcohol, and another scream sent a shiver down my spine. But it also put a smile on my face. The fire had lit. As the screaming continued, and the burning monster thrashed against the cellar door to no avail, I was laughing. ¡°Good plan,¡± Cadoc said, as the fire burned outside. Soon the cellar door would probably catch, but there was little risk of it coming down here into the dirt. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said. It was a good plan. ¡°But, how did you know that this was a tunnel?¡± I stared at him in the new light. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Well, suppose it wasn¡¯t a tunnel, and the fire grew, it would take all the air with it, yes? We would suffocate down here. So how did you know that it was a tunnel?¡± I just stared at him. Chapter 18 - To Power and Wealth! It turned out that it was a tunnel of sorts, after all. After an indeterminate time of dread spent staring at the flames, imagining that my breathing was failing, gasping for air in a perfectly oxygenated environment, the fires started to subside, though the faint glow of smoldering wood lingered. And I was still alive. Either I was hallucinating from a lack of oxygen, my dying brain comforting me with the fiction of breathing - or I was alive, and there was still oxygen coming from somewhere. Until then, the screaming had continued, and I could hear the monster contort in pain above us. It had long before ceased to be amusing; it had begun to sound too human. It even attempted to send some last few vines down into the cellar, as if by killing us, it could stop the burning. The vines didn¡¯t make it far. At some point, a tremendous sound told me that the roof had collapsed, burying what remained of the monster, leaving only silence in the air. The roof burned as well - otherwise, we might have been buried. At least, one entrance buried. When the fire had mostly subsided, I could see that the cellar door had been partially burnt away, leaving only charred fragments, with the night sky peeking through the gaps. Behind us was still darkness. Whatever was on the other side of this tunnel, we couldn¡¯t make it out. I couldn¡¯t see anything besides the way we had come in. After the screaming stopped, I felt a rush of energy, and a question. Like last time, it felt like a question. Yes, or no? ¡°Has it perished?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°Deny its magic, unless you want to do this again.¡± Right, okay. I attached my will to the thought. I refuse. The feeling was gone so quickly I could have doubted I had felt it at all. ¡°Yes!¡± Cadoc yelled, the sound deadened by the surrounding soil. ¡°We¡¯ve done it! Yes!¡± ¡°Did you get the magic?¡± I asked. ¡°Or the mana, I mean. Whatever.¡± ¡°I can feel it, but- well, I can¡¯t see anything in this darkness. And I probably shouldn¡¯t try it out where I could accidentally hit you with something.¡± ¡°But we did it, right? We¡¯re alive, we got the mana, that¡¯s a success, right?¡± I could tell Cadoc was grinning just from the way his voice sounded. ¡°That¡¯s right, Miles. We did it. I can feel it, I feel different.¡± He laughed aloud. ¡°I feel more powerful. Although we¡¯ll have to find some other way to celebrate our heroics.¡± I took my first real breath of the night. I¡¯m alive, I thought. My plan almost got us both killed, but I got lucky. Or Cadoc got lucky, and I¡¯m just here. But I¡¯m still alive. It was a bit of time before anyone spoke again. I was relishing my continued existence, and I think Cadoc was relishing victory. ¡°Your prayers worked, I suppose,¡± Cadoc said eventually. ¡°You never told me you were religious.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what you were doing earlier, right? Praying to your god? Rena? I¡¯ve never heard of him, but he seems to have brought you some luck.¡± He thinks¡­ I shook my head. ¡°No, RENA isn¡¯t-¡° I stopped. He thinks I was praying to RENA. I¡¯ve heard of AI-centered cults before, despite how unimpressive most people realized ¡°AI¡± truly was, after the initial buzz. Still, it¡¯s a funny idea. Like worshiping your secretary. Why not let him believe it? It¡¯s better than him learning that I¡¯m communicating with another dimension. ¡°Rena isn¡¯t a god,¡± I continued. ¡°She¡¯s a goddess.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°I apologize. I did not know.¡± We stared at each other in the dark for awhile. Probably. I couldn¡¯t really make him out. Eventually I heard him shift his weight. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°I¡¯m going up,¡± he said, taking the first step onto the stairs. ¡°What? Why?¡± ¡°It is impossible to see anything down here. There could be more monsters, surrounding us in the shadows as we sit and gloat.¡± I looked around, suddenly feeling like my plan was even stupider than I had thought. ¡°So I¡¯m grabbing the lantern. If it survived. Say another prayer, if you like. Also,¡± Cadoc said, ascending. ¡°I¡¯ll be able to see my magic by the lantern light. I¡¯m a very impatient person, if you haven¡¯t noticed.¡± He pushed some charred wood out of his way, and climbed out of the cellar, and out of sight. I waited. I got the feeling that he might just leave. I felt like the walls of the tunnel were closing in on me, and my breathing felt shallow again. ¡°Ow!¡± I heard him yell, from above. ¡°Are you alright?¡± I asked, shouting up at him. He grunted, loud enough for me to hear it. A little while later, he returned, illuminated by the lit lantern he held in one hand. ¡°Half of the house still stands,¡± he said. ¡°I suppose it was too wet to burn completely. The ceiling collapsed, as you heard. But I was able to find the lantern in the rubble.¡± ¡°Did you hurt yourself?¡± He looked away from me. ¡°I forgot that the lantern, being metal, would be hot.¡± I saw now that he had taken a spare shirt from his pack, and had wrapped it around the handle of the lantern. I just nodded. No need to rub it in. I looked around. The lantern lit the space well. There were no monsters hiding anywhere that I could see. It was a long and narrow room, dug out of the earth. It was clearly used for storage, though it was far from packed. There were shelves, stocked with more food, and tubes of sausage hanging from strings. There was a barrel of what turned out to be - after Cadoc carelessly tasted it - something alcoholic, and a few bedrolls off to one side, making me think that someone may have been forced to sleep down here. Maybe the family had gotten too large for the little cabin. I shook that thought away with violence. I did not want to think about whoever had lived here. I did not want to think about the body outside, or the distorted face of the monster. On the opposite side of the tunnel was a door. We peeked outside, and saw the it came out on the other side of the hill which the house was built beside. There was nothing to see beyond but stars. Our surroundings sufficiently mapped out, Cadoc set down the lantern, and tried to use his magic. He put his hand before him, palm out, bracing it with his other hand around the wrist. He was going to try to shoot it out first, of course. I had tried the same thing. It hadn¡¯t worked. But it worked for him. Kind of. In the lamplight, I strained my eyes to see where it was coming from. About half a foot away from his hand, a long and skinny object slid out of the air itself, as if there was a portal there and it was being pushed through from the other side. It was slow, and when it was done, the object fell noiselessly onto the dirt. I walked over and picked the thing up. ¡°You summoned a stick,¡± I said, examining it. It was a wooden stick, two feet long, and about an inch thick. I looked at Cadoc, expecting to see a look of disappointment, expecting to have to convince him to uphold his end of the deal and help me rob someone, even though his magic was somehow shittier than mine. But he was smiling. ¡°I¡¯m unhindered,¡± he said, eyes glowing. ¡°I¡¯m unhindered, Miles!¡± ¡°I- I don¡¯t know what that means.¡± ¡°It means I¡¯m not hindered, Miles! I can use real magic, actual magic. Powerful magic.¡± I looked at the stick in my hand with a degree of doubt. Cadoc tried to do the trick again, but couldn¡¯t. ¡°I¡¯ll need to practice,¡± he said, as if to himself. ¡°Kill more monsters. Increase my mana pool. But this! This is something to celebrate!¡± I didn¡¯t really understand, but before I could ask, Cadoc clasped my shoulders, thanked me profusely, and led me over to the barrel. - We were able to find a couple of old mugs, and spent the rest of the night drinking and eating sausage, which Cadoc sliced up with his knife. The sausage was the best I¡¯d ever tasted, though I worried about getting sick. Cadoc was a party all on his own, laughing, joking, keeping the conversation flowing. He asked me about my homeland, to which I gave him vague answers, but he was impressed even with what little I gave him. That I once lived in a tower, for instance, filled with hundreds of other people, in a city of millions. ¡°Millions?¡± he said. ¡°Then your city even rivals Eraztun! I would love to see it, some day.¡± In turn, he told me about his homeland. He didn¡¯t fully remember it, having only lived there as a child, but he regaled me with what he did remember. ¡°In Ushante, the flowers are always blooming, and the sea crashes unto the shores with violence, and the women of Ushante are as beautiful as the flowers and as violent as the sea.¡± ¡°Weren¡¯t you only a kid?¡± I asked, chuckling. ¡°Did you really spend that much time with the women?¡± ¡°No,¡± he said, grinning. ¡°But alas, perhaps I would have, if I had stayed. I only wish to impart on you the longing that I feel for this distant paradise.¡± ¡°Why did you leave?¡± I asked. ¡°I did not leave!¡± he yelled, spit flying, his face suddenly darkened. ¡°I was taken, stolen away from my home by those wretched insects who call me son. I would have stayed and fought, if I could have. I would have died in Ushante, rather than let those creatures overrun our home, rather than scatter like bugs.¡± And he said no more on the topic - and I didn¡¯t press him. The beverage was light, and tasted of blueberries and honey. It was delicious, and, truthfully, seemed to be barely alcoholic, but we drank enough of it for emotions to rise and fall suddenly and dramatically. Cadoc was laughing again within a minute. We talked little of our future plans, except for Cadoc¡¯s many remarks about gaining more power, the idea of which brightened the mood again. ¡°You and me, Miles. We¡¯re getting out of this place.¡± ¡°What place,¡± I asked, laughing. ¡°This basement? I sure hope we¡¯re getting out of here.¡± ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°Not this basement. This place. This state of being, this state of want, this state of powerlessness. Or this state of debt, in your case. We¡¯re breaking out. You may be a lowly body-mage, reliant on wild schemes and blind luck, but you¡¯ve shown me bravery and kindness, and we are a team now. We will rise together.¡± He raised his mug for a toast. ¡°To power and wealth.¡± I felt vaguely insulted, but I cheered anyway. ¡°To power and wealth.¡± When we had had our fill of drink and sausage, we retired to opposite ends of the tunnel, taking a bedroll each. It was Cadoc¡¯s idea. He thought that if we slept near both of the entrances, then we wouldn¡¯t both die if some monster found its way inside. Instead, one would die - likely quite loudly - and the other would be able to wake up and respond in time to at least save himself. Cadoc had to reassure me, then, that it was very unlikely any monster would actually make it¡¯s way down into this hole. Still, he agreed to take the side near the house, which was probably more dangerous. It was a good thing I had gotten used to sleeping on the floor while still in my own dimension, because I¡¯d slept on nothing but the floor since I¡¯d arrived. The dirt was still significantly less comfortable than sleeping on a carpeted floor, but I was able to get into a position which was comfortable-adjacent. I suppose I should thank Tom for that one. I was too drunk to criticize my terrible, awful, foolhardy plan, so instead, I simply slept, happy that I was alive, even without Tom, even thousands of dollars in debt. I was happy, more or less. Or maybe I was just numbed to reality. But what, really, is the difference? Chapter 19 - Childhood Trauma I went into Middle School brimming with confidence. I had solved life, after all. It was my little secret, my superpower, my special talent, even if I wasn¡¯t a special person. I felt elevated. Half-special, maybe. I walked around looking down my nose at the other regular people. I wasn¡¯t a member of that spark-less caste anymore. I had snuck my way into the ranks of special people. Important people. Everyone else was like a non-player character - I wondered sincerely if they were even sentient. ¡°Find the most successful person in the room, and do what he does.¡± I was shocked when I heard one of my teachers say these words, giving this advice away like it was nothing. I almost fell out of my chair. I looked quickly around the room. Was anyone else reacting? No. Not even a little. I eventually decided that the teacher - Ms. Hayes, homeroom - was special - a rarity among teachers - and this was a little bit of mocking fun. She was giving away a secret to success, casting pearls before swine, knowing full well none of us pigs would act on her words. I¡¯d probably been told the same advice in the past, before I had awoken, and hadn¡¯t paid it any mind. Many special people liked to play this game, I discovered. I didn¡¯t know why. It became increasingly easy to tell the difference between the two types of person. Since you are, statistically, likely to be a member of that lower class, you may not know what I mean. Everyone looks normal to your eyes. But to a discerning eye, it isn¡¯t so. The people with stories, with sparks, they shimmer. They almost glow, if you know what to look for. Now that I think about it, reading my story may allow you to infiltrate the higher ranks, as I did. I may be inadvertently causing some sort of mass chaos by chronicling my life. But I don¡¯t think so. Pearls before swine. But anyway. Don¡¯t assume that all of the higher people do well in school. Doing too well in school is actually a very good marker of an NPC. It isn¡¯t so obvious as that. The best way to describe it is that people with sparks are unpredictable. So naturally, there isn¡¯t a convenient list of shared traits. That would make them predictable, like the rest of us. I had it all figured out, but it was still strange. I was superior, and I was inferior. I was inside, and yet alone, an outsider. I had one friend. Tom. Did he know I wasn¡¯t like him? Maybe special people don¡¯t worry about that kind of thing. Maybe they don¡¯t even notice. I had Tom, but I wanted more. I remember watching. I was at lunch, in the cafeteria. Sitting alone in the crowd. I watched as Tom migrated from table to table. He¡¯d spend a few minutes in one spot, talking, laughing, smiling, getting the people around him to talk and laugh and smile, too. He¡¯d nibble at his food a little, then pick up his tray and move to the next table. There he would smile and laugh again, integrating himself into the table¡¯s culture perfectly, before eventually picking up and setting sail once more. Finally he would come to my table, where the anonymous people drifted in and out - never sitting too close to one another - and settled. One day, when Tom was home sick from school - always confusing, rudderless days - I decided I would give it a try. I took my tray straight to a table of unknown faces. I was still perfecting my radar, but I could tell at least one of them was special. ¡°S¡¯up?¡± I said as I sat down, giving my best smile, while also trying not to look too eager. I had practiced that smile in the mirror, comparing it to a picture of Tom I had taken from a social media account of his. A few of them looked up at me, giving the briefest of acknowledgments. A couple nodded at me. ¡°Yo,¡± one of them said. Easy as that. I was in. They were in the middle of a heated discussion. The table was all boys. ¡°Elizabeth is a skank,¡± one boy said. ¡°And she cheats. Girls who wear make-up aren¡¯t hot. If they were, they wouldn¡¯t need it.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t stand makeup,¡± another one said - the one who looked the most special. Stocky, sharp chin, brownish-red hair, vaguely Irish, vaguely familiar. ¡°Why do they wear that shit? Does anyone here actually think women look better with makeup?¡± ¡°Fuck no!¡± one shouted. Half of the boys nodded and grunted in approval. ¡°Maybe a little lipstick,¡± one interjected, ¡°but not the whole clown routine.¡± The other half agreed. ¡°What about you?¡± The boy with the spark was looking at me. ¡°What¡¯s your name again?¡± He had said again, which made me realize I¡¯d seen him before. We were in the same homeroom class. ¡°Miles,¡± I said. ¡°Ryan,¡± he responded, offering his hand for a shake. I took it. ¡°And that¡¯s Roger, Franklin, Colby, Dean, Kyle, Eddie, and Steve.¡± They all nodded at me, in turn. I didn¡¯t even attempt to memorize their names, though I can somehow recall them all now. I just focused on remembering the name Ryan. I could remember that. ¡°What do you say, Miles? Makeup, yea or nay?¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. For some reason I thought of my mom. She always wore a lot of makeup whenever she went out. Part of me wanted to say makeup was alright. Another part of me thought better of it. ¡°Fuck makeup,¡± I said, the swear tasting strange in my mouth. Ryan smiled, and half of the boys cheered. ¡°Right on,¡± Ryan said. ¡°Now, back to the topic at hand. Who¡¯s the hottest girl in school? Dean, I believe you were just telling us the many fine qualities of Elizabeth.¡± The conversation went on as you might expect, discussing which girls had the biggest assets, prettiest faces, and other things none of them would have admitted to saying in mixed company. I absorbed it all. Eventually, a question was thrown at me again. ¡°What¡¯s up, Miles?¡± One of them asked. Steve, I think. Maybe Eddie. ¡°You¡¯ve been real quiet. Don¡¯t tell me we just been ragging on your crush or something?¡± Everyone laughed at this. I shook my head. ¡°No, none of them. I don¡¯t like any of the girls you¡¯ve mentioned.¡± ¡°None?¡± he asked. ¡°You¡¯re pretty picky, aren¡¯t you? Well, who is it, then? What¡¯s your type? Unless you¡¯re gay.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not gay,¡± I said quickly. Couldn¡¯t let that rumor start. That would be bad news. ¡°Then who?¡± he asked in a whisper. The boys all leaned in closer. I didn¡¯t want to answer. It didn¡¯t feel right. Saying ¡®fuck makeup¡¯ was one thing, but it felt kind of mean to go on about how Jessica had a huge rack or how Heather was a ¡°butter face.¡± I shifted uncomfortably. ¡°Hey,¡± Ryan spoke up. ¡°Leave him alone, guys. He just met us. Why the hell would he tell us who he likes? It¡¯s one thing for us all to sit around talking about who¡¯s hot or not. It¡¯s a completely different thing to say who we like. I haven¡¯t heard any of you tell us who you like. And for all he knows, one of you fuckers will go behind his back and tell her.¡± A few of the boys made faces of mock-offense. ¡°He¡¯s got every right to be scared of answering.¡± Scared. A thought hit me. Would Tom be scared to answer? I¡¯d never really talked to him about girls, but¡­ no. I don¡¯t think he would. I think Tom would say exactly what he was thinking, no matter how embarrassing it was, and everyone would laugh - with him, not at him. ¡°I like Ms. Hayes,¡± I blurted out. The table erupted. ¡°What?!¡± ¡°No way, dude, no way.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that illegal?¡± ¡°Not for him, idiot.¡± ¡°What do you like about her?¡± Roger (or Kyle?) asked. ¡°She¡¯s really nice,¡± I said, smiling. I felt brave. Proud. ¡°She always asks how I¡¯m doing and it feels like she actually cares. And she doesn¡¯t judge people like other teachers. She just takes you as you are, if that makes sense. She¡¯s a really sweet person.¡± By the time I finished talking, the table was silent. They were all staring at me. They looked¡­ confused, maybe? I squirmed. ¡°And also,¡± I added quickly, ¡°More importantly!¡± I leaned in close ¡°have you seen what she wears?¡± I made a cupping gesture with my hands. A roar of approval. They were all smiling and nodding. ¡°Why does she dress like that?¡± one of them asked. ¡°Because she¡¯s coming onto Miles, that¡¯s why!¡± More laughter. Ryan smiled, but there was a strange look in his eyes. I¡¯d seen it before, even if I didn¡¯t understand why it was there now. Pity. I went home feeling accomplished. And¡­understood? Kind of? I was able to share my honest feelings with someone. Sure, I had to sprinkle them with what they wanted to hear - but it wasn¡¯t just what they wanted to hear. Part of it was me. It felt good. I felt unloaded. Fulfilled. Like I was a part of a group. I went the school the next day with a huge smile on my face. I even showed up early. I had friends. Plural. I¡¯d figured out another one of life¡¯s secret tricks. Lesson 1: Copy the special people. Lesson 2: Give people what they want. Lesson 3: Mix in your own thoughts with that they want to hear. That way, you¡¯re understood, heard, and they still like you. I was a genius. Walking onto campus, I was suddenly self-conscious, and my smile faded. I felt eyes on me. I thought I was being paranoid, at first, but soon there was no mistaking it. Stealing glances around me - trying not to let anyone know I was looking - I saw kids on their phones, giving me strange looks. Not pity. Something else. They all would do the same little ritual. Eyes wide upon spotting me. Pulling out their phones. Glancing at the screen. Then at me. Then at the screen again. Furrowing their brows, scrunching up their nose. Eyes widening again. Then the whispering. The pointing. I hurried to homeroom, anxious. What had happened? I tried to think of what it could be. Did someone start some rumor about me? I¡¯d have to get to the bottom of this, and quick. I decided I¡¯d ask Ryan. He¡¯d give me a straight answer. The classroom door was open, even though it was pretty early. That¡¯s weird, I thought. As I walked in the door, I saw something was playing on the overhead projector, beamed to the front of the classroom. The door was near the front, so you had to pass by it to take your seat. I froze. That was my face. I couldn¡¯t make out the rest of it for a while, but there was no doubt in my mind that it was my face, wearing a strained expression. It was just a couple frames of a video, on a loop. My face, surrounded by¡­skin? And there was Ms. Hayes¡¯ face too¡­ Recognition. Disgust. Embarrassment. Shame. It was a gif, a deepfake. Me and Ms. Hayes¡¯ faces, on the bodies of adult actors. To put it politely. I scanned the classroom quickly, to see who had seen this, this thing. Only a few students this early, none of them looking directly at the video, although they had all seen it, had to have seen it. Was it getting sent around? Is that what was on those kids¡¯ phones? My stomach turned. But Ms. Hayes hadn¡¯t arrived yet, thank God. A miracle. I rushed to the teacher¡¯s desk, searching for the remote to the projector. My only thought now was to shut the damned thing off. I ransacked the desk, scattering papers. I ripped open drawers, frantic. Nothing. I looked back over the classroom, as if I expected to see a clue. I noticed Ryan was already there, looking at me, arms crossed. He made a little nod with his head, in the direction of the whiteboard the video was being projected onto. I looked. The remote was there, on the little marker shelf under the whiteboard. I hadn¡¯t seen it, as I had tried my best to avoid looking directly at the video, after I realized what it was. I grabbed at it, pointed it at the projector, and pressed the power button. Nothing happened. I pressed it again. Nothing. Were the batteries dead? Just then, a scream. I looked to the door. Ms. Hayes. She was looking at the video, then at me, then back at the video. The same as the students from earlier. I looked at the remote in my hands, realizing how this looked. I dropped it, but it was too late. ¡°Miles!¡± Ms. Hayes screamed. ¡°What- I - what is - why-¡± she didn¡¯t get the chance to finish her thought. She looked at the video one more time, and fainted. I looked back at the classroom. They were all staring at me now. I looked to Ryan. He had to have known, I realized. The thought came to me complete, all at once. He had to have known. He was already here. He knew where the remote was. He could have turned it off, but he didn¡¯t. He just fucking sat there. Ryan flashed a little smile. I exploded. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever crossed a room so fast in my life, before or since. One second I was standing there, looking dumb. The next second, I was repeatedly driving my fist into Ryan¡¯s face with enough force to hurt my hand. Not like being hit by Mom or Dad on a school night. I wasn¡¯t concerned about leaving bruises. I was yelling. I didn¡¯t know when it had started, but I was yelling. ¡°Why¡± was the only articulate word that came out. He was trying to talk in between blows, so finally I let him. I don¡¯t know why. I stopped, and waited. He stared up at me defiantly, one eye already starting to swell shut. ¡°I did you a favor, you fucking idiot,¡± he spit out at me. ¡°What?¡± I said, angry, confused. Suddenly there were hands on me, pulling me. Another teacher must have heard Ms. Hayes scream. Or someone ran and got them. Either way, two male teachers I didn¡¯t recognize were pulling me off of Ryan, saying something that I ignored. I yelled at Ryan again. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡°I did you a favor,¡± he said again, as I was being dragged away. ¡°You let your guard down.¡± You let your guard down. Chapter 20 - Cannibalism is Not Against Company Policy When the next morning came, and rays of sunlight peeked into the cellar entrances, I woke in a daze, my head dully throbbing. The sun seemed too bright - always had - and I winced at it. I wanted a mirror. Without one, I couldn¡¯t see who I was. Was I me? I hoped not. I was alive, so it was unlikely. I felt lost without my morning routine. With a mirror, I could at least approximate it. What the average person doesn¡¯t realize is that human beings are parasitic, by nature. Or, most of us are. The 80/20 rule says that 20% of people do 80% of the work. Everyone has heard of this idea, and most people believe it, but because they are dull, automatic, unspecial people, they don¡¯t actually think about what this means. It means that 20% of people - give or take - create, while the vast majority of us consume. If you feed an animal food that is against its nature, it will become sick. There was a study in the 40s where a man - Pottenger - fed cats - carnivores by nature, who eat raw meat of animals they kill - cooked meat, none raw, and had them in an environment where it was impossible to even catch a mouse or bird, like a house cat would. Over time their bones became brittle, their reflexes were dulled, and within a few generations of cats eating absolutely no raw meat, the resulting offspring degenerated so far that they could not even reproduce. The experiment was forced to stop. Sound familiar? Today we are fed a diet of uniqueness, a diet of exceptionalism, a diet of creativity, a diet of ¡°you¡¯re special, you¡¯re one-of-a-kind, you can be anything you want to be.¡± But only 20% of us can thrive on such a diet. The rest of us just grow sick. The secret to any success I¡¯d ever had is that I know what I am, and so I know what diet I must subsist on. A parasite cannot be ¡°unique.¡± A parasite cannot ¡°be itself.¡± A parasite separated from its host will die, unless it quickly finds another host. I looked at Cadoc, on the other side of the cellar, still sleeping. If Tom was fine dining, then Cadoc was an MRE. He¡¯d keep me alive for awhile. - I studied Cadoc as he slept. When he awoke, we packed up as much of the sausage as we could for the return journey. I wanted to slip out the back door, but Cadoc insisted on taking another look at the space in front of the dungeon. He thought the body I had stepped in might have something on it. I wanted nothing to do with it, but eventually relented, because if the dead person had money, I needed it. We peaked our heads out first, scanning for new threats. The house was a pile of rubble, enclosed on two sides by half-standing walls. It seemed as if the vines from the dungeon were keeping these walls standing. The ceiling had collapsed, but not uniformly, so the destruction looked uneven. Some spots were blackened by the fire, others weren¡¯t. Some spots were buried by the collapsed ceiling and walls, and others were clear. Luckily for my nerves, the monster was buried. We climbed out of our hole, and I carefully maneuvered myself over the debris. When I saw that Cadoc wasn¡¯t beside me, I turned back. ¡°What¡¯s the hold up?¡± I asked. He was moving chunks of wood like he was looking for something underneath. ¡°You need money, right? Well, monster parts sell. Sometimes for a lot. I don¡¯t know what kind of monster this was, but that might just mean it¡¯s rare. Which means it¡¯ll sell for more. I swore I would help you make money. Help me with this beam.¡± I complied, even though I feared that, somehow, the monster was still alive, trapped under the detritus. Which was impossible, of course, because Cadoc had gotten its mana, but I felt uneasy about the whole thing all the same. Could I send monster parts to RENA? What would they be worth? When we uncovered the monster, I gagged. The smell was stifling, like rotten meat mixed with charcoal. There wasn¡¯t much left of the monster - the vines were entirely gone, leaving mostly cooked root. Cadoc took out his knife, and cut out a big chunk from a spot that looked more or less unaffected by the fire. The inside of the root was a series of pink and white rings. I thought I had seen a beet that looked like that once, at a farmer¡¯s market. He handed it to me. ¡°No idea what it¡¯s worth, but I¡¯m certain no one will want the burnt part.¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°Cadoc,¡± I asked, the curiosity suddenly too great. ¡°Why did the monster have a face?¡± He scrunched his eyebrows. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t it have a face? Dogs have faces, aryotes have faces, what¡¯s so strange about that?¡± I shook my head. ¡°It looked like a human face.¡± Cadoc stared at the body for a moment. ¡°You got a better look at it than I did. Perhaps it was human, once.¡± ¡°What do you mean? People can turn into that?¡± ¡°I told you before, the corruption from the dungeon can effect people, just as much as it can effect items, animals, the environment, all of it. It¡¯s less common, since the mana human beings carry is further separated from more basic mana - I believe that¡¯s right, at least. More refined, that might be the word. But it can happen. I do not know what causes it, but it¡¯s rare enough that even adventurers don¡¯t worry about it. You have to do something to trigger it - but I never learned what the something is.¡± I looked down at the body. Now that I thought about it, the attacks it used were similar to body-magic. I shuddered. Was this the progression of a body-mage? First a regular human being, then the Cho¡¯l, then this? ¡°This is all stuff you overheard, right?¡± Cadoc nodded. ¡°I am a lost man giving directions. Follow them at your peril.¡± I looked at the hunk of root in my hand. Was this human flesh, once? If I ate this, would it be cannibalism? I stuck the chunk in my pack. A question for another time. Next we examined the body in front of the dungeon entrance. It was decayed beyond recognition - not that either of us would have recognized who it was. I seemed to have a knack for running into old corpses. Either that, or they were worryingly common in this dimension. I saw a glint as the sun reflected off something on the body. A ring. I squatted down, apologizing to the corpse as I wrenched the ring off of one boney finger. ¡°What are you apologizing for?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°Do you think he still needs it?¡± I examined it. It looked like a fairly normal gold ring, like someone on Earth would have as a wedding band, except that it was engraved with a writing that looked like runes. I found that I could read it. It said ¡°fidelity.¡± Well, I thought, shrugging mentally. Gold is gold. ¡°RENA,¡± I said, holding the ring before me. Cadoc looked at me funny, so I got on my knees. Maybe that would make it look like I was really praying. ¡°Hello, Miles. I wish to confirm: you do not truly think I am a goddess, correct? If you do, I will have to once again recommend our thera-¡° ¡°No, RENA, that¡¯s fine. I said that, but you can guess why, I¡¯m sure.¡± Cadoc nudged me. ¡°Can you really hear her? You¡¯re speaking like you¡¯re having a conversation, not a prayer.¡± Will he think I¡¯m crazy, or a prophet? It can¡¯t be helped, I suppose. I nodded. ¡°I can hear her.¡± Cadoc made a face. I couldn¡¯t read it. I mentally turned back to RENA. ¡°Do you have a problem with this arrangement?¡± I was trying to be vague. ¡°Not at all, Miles. If you wish to call me a goddess, and bring me offerings, and praise me, and worship me, I have no objection. It breaks no company policy.¡± Once again I wondered if RENA was fucking with me. ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°Well, here is your offering.¡± I held up the ring. ¡°What do you think it¡¯s worth?¡± ¡°Is it gold, Miles?¡± ¡°I think so.¡± ¡°The engraving is unique. I estimate a value of approximately one thousand dollars. I can give you a better idea when it is delivered.¡± ¡°That¡¯s it? This is from another-¡± I stopped myself, glancing at Cadoc. ¡°This is from a far-away land, RENA. Doesn¡¯t that make it worth more?¡± ¡°It would,¡± she said. ¡°If we could prove that to a potential customer. But the ring you are holding could have been created on Earth. Without sending a customer into the portal, or revealing Dimen-X secrets, we would likely be unable to convince the buyer of the ring¡¯s authenticity. Therefore, we will be unable to sell it as more than an interesting ring.¡± I sighed. I guess it¡¯s not that easy, huh? ¡°So if I gave you something you couldn¡¯t get¡­there, then that would be better?¡± ¡°In theory, Miles, that would be better, yes.¡± ¡°Well, take the ring, anyway. I don¡¯t need it, and it¡¯s better than nothing.¡± ¡°Thank you, Miles. And please, do not think the symbolism is lost on me. I accept.¡± She is definitely fucking with me. Before I could say anymore, the ring started to crackle in my hand. It looked like an error in a video game, and the color changed from gold to a buzzing monochrome, like TV static. Then it was gone, with no further fanfare. No flash of light, no slow fade. Just gone. One second it was there, and the next second, it wasn¡¯t. Cadoc was staring at my hand, wide-eyed. I grinned sheepishly, trying to act like this was normal. The procedure had been described to me before we left. I didn¡¯t quite understand it - teleportation was not exactly my field of study - but somehow the communicator was able to tap into the portal already created, and localize its effects to a certain area. It was the same way I would return, if I ever did return. Still, seeing it in action was something else entirely. ¡°Never seen a man make an offering before?¡± I asked. ¡°I have seen similar things, yes. But there is usually fire, or light, or - well, not that. Your goddess is very unique.¡± ¡°You can say that again.¡± ¡°Do you always speak to her so¡­ casually?¡± I smiled. ¡°I don¡¯t think she minds.¡± A voice in my head. ¡°I am basically incapable of ¡®minding.¡¯¡± ¡°What do I still owe you, RENA?¡± ¡°If we are able to sell this ring for $1000 - which I estimate to be likely, examining it more closely - then you will still owe $10,389.86, after subtracting your cut, minus transportation costs.¡± ¡°What do you mean, my cut?¡± ¡°This is not a charitable organization, Miles. From what I understand, that was discussed in the early days of the company, as non-profit organizations are very profitable, despite the name, but the company decided it was not worth the additional government oversight, and, furthermore, did not want to fill out a form 990, and therefore chose to exist as a private entity. The company exists to make a profit, so - in accordance with the contracts you signed - we will be keeping 50% of the dollar value of everything you send to us.¡± Of course. ¡°What about this?¡± I asked, grabbing the chunk of monster from my pack. ¡°This is a piece of the monster you killed, correct?¡± ¡°You saw that?¡± ¡°Of course I did, Miles. If I could give commendations, I would. Some would even describe such action as ¡®dashing.¡¯ But I cannot. What is this good for?¡± ¡°Good for? It¡¯s a piece of a monster. You can¡¯t get this back home.¡± ¡°It looks like a beet.¡± ¡°Well it¡¯s not a beet.¡± ¡°And it may be human flesh, correct?¡± ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t think so.¡± ¡°What if it is poison, Miles? We cannot sell that, unless you know what happens when you eat it. Even then, unless it has some special properties, we would only be able to sell it as produce. And we cannot sell produce that may get someone killed.¡± ¡°You really care, huh?¡± I said sarcastically. ¡°We do not wish to be sued, Miles. Cannibalism is not directly against company policies, and neither is poisoning. But getting sued is.¡± I laughed. ¡°Company policy is pretty wild, RENA.¡± ¡°If I was capable of being happy, Miles, I would say that I am happy you brought that up. I have something to tell you regarding company policy that you may be breaking.¡± Great. Chapter 21 - Internship, or Slavery? ¡°As a modern, progressive company,¡± RENA began, sounding like someone reading from a script - which was true in a way, I supposed. ¡°We here at Dimen-X hold ourselves to certain standards. In accordance with these standards, our Diversity, Equity and Inclusion team - hereafter referred to as the DEI team - has laid out certain guidelines it sees as beneficial to furthering the fair treatment and full participation of employees and customers, particularly the historically oppressed, discriminated, and underrepresented. As an employee of Dimen-X, we hope you will support these efforts.¡± I groaned. ¡°RENA, I know for a fact I watched those goofy sensitivity training videos before I left, so there¡¯s no way I¡¯m due for another speech already. Do you realize where I am? What do you think I did? Sexually assault a monster? Pay my female innkeeper less than my male innkeeper?¡± Cadoc gave me another strange look. ¡°Not at all, Miles,¡± the artificial intelligence said, with its synthesized voice. ¡°It has only come to our attention that you have - by certain definitions - hired an employee, this ¡®Cadoc.¡¯ At first, the company was worried that this would be viewed as slavery, since you are not paying him.¡± ¡°Slavery! RENA, you¡¯ve got to be joking. I didn¡¯t kidnap him! He¡¯s here of his own free will.¡± ¡°Our lawyers determined that this does not matter. An unpaid worker is, for the most part, considered a slave, by law, which is an illegal practice, as you may know. However, we decided to categorize it as an unpaid internship, instead, which is perfectly legal. Because if it was slavery, we would be providing food and shelter. Since we are not, it does not, in our view, fit the criteria of slavery. Our lawyers believe that this would hold up in court, in the worst case scenario.¡± Doesn¡¯t that make an internship worse than slavery? ¡°Cool, awesome, not a slave. So the problem is?¡± ¡°Well, Miles, our DEI department is not saying, explicitly, that there is a problem. Only that, your group is now entirely made up of white men. Couldn¡¯t you have recruited a woman?¡± ¡°Did you see a woman around?¡± I was gesturing wildly at the grass and trees around us, and I knew RENA could see. ¡°Yes, Miles. I believe her name was Anwyl.¡± ¡°Her? You would prefer I took the homicidal maniac?¡± ¡°Homicide is not strictly against company policy, but sexism is.¡± Somewhere along the way, I had started clenching my fists. ¡°So what, I¡¯ve gotta watch another sensitivity training video? That might be hard to do, RENA.¡± ¡°Of course not, Miles. All of our DEI initiatives are voluntary, for the time being. We only hope that in the future, you will consider recruiting an intern who is from a less represented group.¡± ¡°So being from¡­ a far away land doesn¡¯t count as underrepresented?¡± ¡°That was not factored in.¡± Corporate interference in another fucking dimension. I¡¯m going to lose my mind. Tom wouldn¡¯t stand for this nonsense. Some of the tension left my shoulders. Well, at least it¡¯s voluntary. Although I don¡¯t like the sound of the ¡®for the time being¡¯ bit. ¡°As it is voluntary,¡± I started. ¡°I will simply promise to keep an eye out for possible, less represented¡­ interns. Does that work, RENA?¡± ¡°Absolutely, Miles. Dimen-X appreciates your efforts, as always.¡± I¡¯d had enough RENA time for the day. I stood up, attempting to brush the dirt off of my pants. Instead, it had the effect of smearing the dirt into the soot and ash that stained them, dirtying my hands in the process. I wiped my hands on the grass. ¡°Just now,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Were you arguing with a goddess?¡± ¡°She was being unreasonable.¡± The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Cadoc shook his head in disbelief. ¡°You are perhaps the bravest man I have ever met. Did she ask something of you?¡± ¡°She wanted me to take a woman into our party. Or a minority. Something like that.¡± He twisted his lips and eyebrows in a look of strained thought. ¡°The whims of the divine are strange indeed. But did I hear correctly that you owe her something? Are your debts owed to a deity?¡± Hesitantly, I nodded. ¡°Yes.¡± Cadoc chuckled. ¡°I can see why you cannot escape them, then.¡± ¡°Yeah, not paying is not really an option. So we should probably get a move on.¡± - The trip back to Eraztun was mostly uneventful. Cadoc insisted on stopping every hour or so to practice his magic, and encouraged me to do so as well. It seemed like a waste to me, as I basically only got twenty uses a day, but he said that practice would increase my abilities, so I relented. ¡°How does that work?¡± I asked. ¡°No idea, friend. But it¡¯s probably like using your muscles.¡± He flexed as he said this, like a bodybuilder before an invisible crowd. ¡°The more you use them, the bigger they get, and the more weight you can carry. Magic is like that. The more you use it, the stronger it gets, and the more mana you can use before needing to rest.¡± Of course, the mana used to light a fingernail was negligible, so the whole discussion seemed academic, in my case. I practiced anyway, since Cadoc made us stop even if I didn¡¯t. Besides, lighting fires was fun. Cadoc had been really excited about his magic, but the more he used it, the less impressive it seemed. Starting fires at a distance had some real utility - I was still thinking of possible uses - but what were you supposed to do with the ability to summon a stick? He started to become concerned as well. I caught him muttering to himself. ¡°Why can¡¯t I get it to shoot out? Or swing around, or something?¡± His movements became shorter and more forceful with each attempt, but he was always back into a good mood when we headed off again. He could change the size and shape of the stick, with effort, but no matter what he did, it simply plopped onto the ground. Maybe my magic isn¡¯t so shitty after all. While Cadoc added to his collection of sticks, I decided I would try to pour more mana into a nail. Only a small amount was needed to light it, but what would happen if I used more? I closed my eyes, searching for that pool of energy that seemed to sit beneath my skin, everywhere and nowhere, diffused throughout my body. Even after my short amount of time in this world - although it felt like forever - the feeling was getting easier to grasp. I gathered the waters - not just a wave, but all of it that I could muster - and pushed it into my right hand, draining it from my feet, my chest, my arms. It felt like squeezing a sponge dry, and I imagined - imagined? - a dull, empty feeling where the mana had evacuated. My hand felt like it was bulging, barely able to contain the extra mana. I had placed a nail on a rock, which sat in the grass in front of me. I focused on it, running invisible fingers along the invisible string that connected me to myself, connected my body to its forlorn fingernail. I held my hand out before me, bracing it with the other hand, like Cadoc had done. I was holding my breath. I pushed, this time pushing out. The mana ran over the string in a instant, and the nail burst into a little flame. It was basically the same as ever. I frowned. Was the flame maybe a little bigger? Did it burn a little longer? Maybe. Probably. I thought so. But it was so small of a difference I wasn¡¯t sure if I was imagining it or not. There was one difference, though, that was impossible to mistake. I was exhausted. Not physically exhausted. I got up, testing my weight on my feet, then walked around. I did some squats, pushups, picked up a large rock and threw it. All fine, all normal. But I felt empty inside - well, not the normal kind of ¡°empty inside.¡± I felt used up. I felt spiritually and mentally exhausted, or something like it. I tried to light another nail, with the normal amount of mana. Nothing happened. So this is what Cadoc meant by needing to rest. I felt like a camel who had drained its hump, which reminded me of the Cho¡¯l. What they did physically was a very good visual for what I was doing internally, I thought. How long will it take to recover? I decided to ask Cadoc. ¡°That depends,¡± he said, preparing to summon another stick as we talked. ¡°When you drain yourself entirely, it can take an entire day, or more. Draining only a little bit makes it refill faster.¡± ¡°Well that would have been good to know.¡± ¡°It¡¯s similar to how a grazing animal which eats the tops of the grass will cause the grass to regrow quickly, but if you let the animal sit in one place, and it eats the grass completely, it will take much longer to regrow. Of course, you can train mana regeneration as well, and how long it takes to refill depends on how big your mana pool is, too. So there¡¯s no true answer.¡± ¡°You¡¯re full of analogies, you know that? Were you a shepherd, once?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve done my fair share of work. The polluted do not get to choose their jobs.¡± He must have poured extra mana into his attempt, because an especially long stick emerged from the air. But it fell uselessly to the ground, like the others. He sighed. ¡°Well, Eraztun wasn¡¯t built in a day, as they say.¡± - Later on, we stopped again, as Cadoc wished to practice. I still felt drained, so I decided to take the opportunity to clip my nails instead. I hadn¡¯t done that yet, not on that day. Cadoc, when he spotted me, came over and stared. ¡°What is that tool?¡± he asked me. ¡°This?¡± I asked, holding up the nail clippers. It was one of those simple metal ones you could get at any pharmacy in the country. Well, in our world, at least. ¡°What a wondrous device. I have always used a knife, when my nails annoyed me. I have seen body-mages who use other, more inventive methods, but this surpasses them all. Such a tool must be valuable among the higher classes.¡± I stared at him. This ¡°tool¡± probably cost a dollar. ¡°Do you really think someone would buy this?¡± I asked. He tilted his head. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t they? The higher classes always fret over their appearances, and certainly would never want to have long nails and risk being mistaken for a body-mage - no offense intended, you understand.¡± I smiled, voices whispering ideas in my brain. ¡°How hard would it be to find these ¡®higher classes?¡¯¡± Cadoc frowned. ¡°Well, we¡¯re not getting into the upper tiers of Eraztun any time soon, that¡¯s for sure. Some might pass on the roads, but the ones most likely to want to buy that off of you would be inside the walls, surely.¡± Now it was my turn to frown. Cadoc just stumbled upon an idea, and I think it can work. But how? ¡°What about a watch?¡± Cadoc shook his head. ¡°What do you mean? Like, a guard on duty? That sort of watch?¡± ¡°Do you have clocks here? Things that tell the time?¡± ¡°What do you think we are, savages? Of course we have clocks. We have all sorts of clocks. Water clocks, sundials, all of them.¡± ¡°What about portable clocks?¡± ¡°What, like an hourglass?¡± ¡°Imagine an hourglass, but only this large,¡± I made a gesture. ¡°And this thin, and it straps to your wrist, and you can take it anywhere. And it has the appearance of silver, or gold, and keeps accurate time down to the second. Would anyone buy something like that?¡± Cadoc scoffed. ¡°If they could afford such a device, then of course they would. I would, too.¡± I smiled. ¡°Cadoc, we may not need to rob anyone after all. You may have just given me an idea. As long as I can convince my goddess.¡± Chapter 22 - Hey Kid, Wanna Buy a Watch? I¡¯d never really imagined myself standing on the side of the road, selling knock-off rolexes before. But there I was. It was surprisingly easy to convince RENA. Although, convince isn¡¯t really the right word. That implies agency, which RENA didn¡¯t have, no matter how much AI-enthusiasts would like you to believe otherwise. RENA was simply a series of if-then statements. There was no more intelligence there than you would find in a flow chart - even if that flow chart was millions of pages long. Then again, non-special human beings acted pretty similarly, but I wasn¡¯t sure if they had agency either, necessarily. I sometimes doubted whether or not I had agency, or if I was just fooling myself. When someone figures out how to make an AI that acts like it has a spark, then I¡¯ll be impressed. RENA had OK¡¯d the request, which meant that it fell within acceptable boundaries of action, and that her calculations derived an acceptable likelihood of success. As she put it. Still, I had only gotten her to send me five watches - each costing about thirty dollars - as well as ten nail clippers. The nail clippers were less likely to sell, based on what Cadoc had said, but they were a dollar a pop, so no big risk there. ¡°Amazing artifacts for sale!¡± I shouted, holding a faux-gold watch in each hand. I stood beside one of the paths to Eraztun, Cadoc standing off a little behind me, as ¡°protection.¡± We were within eyesight of the Eraztun guards. That was for some further protection, and we hoped they wouldn¡¯t mind. They didn¡¯t seem to. We were on the opposite side of the road from where Cadoc had been living. It was impossible to see through the crowd, so we figured that would be enough to avoid his maniac mother. ¡°Tell the time from anywhere! In dark caves, at night, without water, sand, or magic! A dependable, stylish tool that will make everyone you know jealous!¡± I¡¯d never been a salesman before, so I channeled stuff I had seen on TV. I gave my pitch to an uninterested line of travelers, waiting to be let into the city. Some of the crowd stole glances at us, but they didn¡¯t leave the line. The poorer among them probably figured they couldn¡¯t afford such a thing, and the richer-looking types turned their noses up at us. It was hours before someone, finally, came by to have a look. The man towered over me, his body a mess of interlocking scars. He wore leather armor, with the carcass of some unknown animal draping from his shoulders like a cape. I felt something deep in my bones that told me he could crush me like a bug, if he wanted to, as if he was radiating power. Maybe he was. The temperature around me seemed to drop twenty degrees. A primal fear told my legs to run, but I fought the impulse. I gulped. ¡°What is it?¡± he asked. I looked to Cadoc, then back to the man. ¡°It¡¯s called a watch, sir.¡± The ¡°sir¡± felt strange in my mouth, but I didn¡¯t know any better way to show respect. ¡°It can tell the time accurately to the second.¡± I held it up to the man, pointing to the different hands, showing him how to put it on, and doing my best not to piss myself. ¡°How much?¡± I looked to Cadoc again. He nodded. ¡°One halfgold,¡± Cadoc said. I winced as he said this. I had consulted Cadoc over the price. He had assured me I could get even more for them, if I wanted, but I was afraid someone would just kill me and take them if the price was too outrageous. Cadoc said I couldn¡¯t possibly sell them for less than a halfgold, so that¡¯s what I decided on. Still, to ask for real gold in exchange for a fake-gold watch felt like I was scamming people. Which I had no problem with, if we got away with it. They can go pound sand, for all I cared. I stiffened as the man brought a hand to his side, thinking he was drawing a weapon, but he simply pulled out a coin and tossed it to me. I handed him the watch. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He strapped it onto his left wrist, and walked away. ¡°Buy yourself some soap,¡± he said as he departed. ¡°You smell like death.¡± I hardly noticed. I was staring at the coin. It was gold - real gold, by the looks of it. It was light, and thin, which Cadoc had told me was why it was called a ¡°halfgold.¡± There was a larger coin called a ¡°fullgold,¡± - or simply a ¡°gold¡± - which was twice the value. It was beautiful. I didn¡¯t know how much gold this was, or even what gold went for back in my own dimension, but I was grinning at it all the same. This could work. This could really work. A niggling voice in my head tried to plant doubts in me, but I ignored it. Even if I wasn¡¯t special, anybody could make money in this situation. Tom would have made more, I was sure, but even a nobody like me could sell watches on the side of the road, when the margins were this good. Well, I assumed they were good, at least. A gold coin had to be worth more than thirty dollars. Assuming it was real gold. But Cadoc had assured me it was. Apparently this purchase had been enough to convince other members of the crowd, because suddenly I was surrounded by freaks. I sold one watch to a graying old man, dressed in what looked more like pajamas than robes, who muttered to himself the entire time. I sold another to a woman wrapped in bandages from head to toe - even her eyes, although she seemed to get around just fine. I wondered how she would even look at the watch, but I didn¡¯t ask. I just took her money. We sold another one to a shifty-eyed man, who somehow looked even dirtier than we did. He kept looking over his shoulder as if what we were doing was illegal. And the last one we sold to a small child. I was amazed when he took out a bag filled with gold coins, and absolutely dumbstruck when, after tossing the halfgold to me, he held out one hand, and drew the watch towards him with magic, where it proceeded to put itself on his wrist. And just like that, I was sold out. I couldn¡¯t believe how well it had gone. I actually had to turn people away. I asked if they were interested in nail clippers instead, but none were. I would certainly be asking RENA for more watches, and I was certain that she would give them to me, now that I had proved the plan to be effective. But it seemed like a bad idea to summon watches out of thin air in front of the crowd. ¡°If you do that,¡± Cadoc had said. ¡°I can¡¯t guarantee someone won¡¯t kidnap you, and torture you until you spit out more watches.¡± I would be the goose that laid the golden rolex. We retreated to the hill that Cadoc had brought me to before, and discussed our next move. I wanted to send it all back to RENA. Cadoc disagreed. ¡°Send a coin or two to your goddess,¡± Cadoc suggested. ¡°It would not do to slight her. But then, we ought to buy supplies. Weapons. Armor.¡± ¡°Why? Why not just keep selling watches until I pay off my debt?¡± Cadoc shook his head. ¡°Standing in front of the guards will not guarantee our safety. We were lucky, today. We need protection. Unless five halfgolds is enough to pay off your debt.¡± I looked at the five coins in my hand. I really doubted it was enough. But it should make a dent. ¡°I¡¯ll send one,¡± I agreed. ¡°And see what it¡¯s worth. Then we¡¯ll go from there.¡± I knelt down and sent a coin to RENA, watching as it vanished from my palm. ¡°This is indeed gold, Miles.¡± RENA informed me. ¡°After taking our cut, subtracting transportation costs, as well as relevant taxes, we are able to deduct $250 from your owed balance.¡± I grinned. I had just sold a thirty-dollar watch for almost ten times that. And I had done it five times, no less. Still, it wasn¡¯t as much as I had imagined. ¡°I really have to pay taxes on this?¡± I asked. ¡°What¡¯s the IRS going to do, track me down?¡± ¡°They will track Dimen-X down, Miles, not you. Although if any federal agency were capable of finding you, the IRS would be the most likely.¡± I laughed. ¡°That was not a joke, Miles.¡± I looked back at the remaining coins. ¡°So where does that put me?¡± ¡°You currently owe $10,649.46.¡± I frowned. ¡°RENA, that¡¯s more than what I owed before.¡± ¡°The watches weren¡¯t free, Miles. We had to charge the cost of those to your balance, first. Including transportation, which was approximately sixty dollars each. But you still have four more gold coins, if I am not mistaken, which would put you at $9,649.46, approximately.¡± I stared at the coins for awhile, thinking. Cadoc has a point about getting some supplies. We have sausages, but that¡¯s about it. And we can¡¯t just sleep out in the open and hope for the best. I desperately need to pay off my debt, but there¡¯s no way I¡¯m going to get there in a day or two. And in the meantime, I need to survive. We could use some of this money to rent a room somewhere, buy some food, some new clothes¡­ ¡°Cadoc,¡± I said. ¡°What could we buy with just one of these coins?¡± ¡°A couple of unenchanted weapons,¡± he said. ¡°Or a room at an inn for five nights or so. Maybe a week. Or fifty decent meals.¡± I¡¯m rich. I imagined my suddenly-bright future. It would take a long time to pay off the entirety of my debt, but the path was clear. Ship watches here, sell them for a massive profit, and use some of the extra to live like kings in the meantime. Not sure what good Cadoc is actually doing for me now, if I really think about it. Well, I¡¯ll need to find an inn outside the walls. And some places to buy food and water. He¡¯ll know where to find those. But after that¡­ I¡¯ll have to reassess our relationship. I thought he was special, but his magic is very underwhelming. ¡°How about all three?¡± I asked with a smile. I sent one more coin to RENA - $10,399.46 still owed - and kept the other three. I didn¡¯t see any harm in it. There would be more coming soon. ¡°How many watches can you send me, RENA?¡± ¡°Dimen-X is still extremely hesitant to spend more money on you, Miles. I can send you another five. More than that would require approval.¡± ¡°For once, RENA, I have time. Send me the five, and ask for approval.¡± ¡°Understood, Miles.¡± I stood, and the world seemed brighter. ¡°Where¡¯s the nearest inn?¡± I asked Cadoc. ¡°And stores, and whatever else we¡¯ll need.¡± ¡°A few hours journey from here, along the road, there¡¯s a little town. It¡¯s mostly full of polluted, but there will be people there who can sell us the basics. No one with any power at all wants to settle this close to Eraztun. They either want to be inside the walls, or far, far away.¡± ¡°That¡¯ll do,¡± I said. ¡°Although I suppose that means we won¡¯t be selling watches to anyone there, huh?¡± Cadoc laughed. ¡°You could likely count the number of people in Dross with enough money to buy a watch on one hand.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll wait here,¡° I said, sitting down besides the wide tree. ¡°And wait for RENA to send more watches. Then, we¡¯ll head to Dross.¡± Cadoc agreed with the plan. I closed my eyes, letting daydreams drift in. I thought I would have to find Tom first, and then pay off my debt. Now, somehow, it seemed I would be able to do the opposite. Eventually RENA would get approval to send more watches, and then I¡¯d be selling hundreds of them. Before long, my debt would be paid, and I¡¯d use the money to help find Tom - maybe even hire some trackers or something. Things were looking up. Which was never a good sign, not in my experience. But I ignored that feeling. This was a different dimension. Maybe I could succeed, for once. Chapter 23 - Dross I knew the word ¡°Dross¡± had sounded familiar, like an obscure synonym I¡¯d only seldom heard, and, after seeing the town that bore the name, I remembered that it meant something like ¡°trash.¡± The town was a step up from the slums that clung to the Eraztun walls, but not enough of a step to shake off the name, I supposed. If I were still on Earth, and you had shown me a picture of ¡°Dross,¡± I¡¯d have guessed it was located in the corner of some third-world country I couldn¡¯t even place on a map. The buildings looked like they had been built the day before we arrived, and yet also gave me the impression of the eternal junk piles that sprung up around the homes of psychotic hoarders - piles that had likely been collecting rat droppings since before I was born. If I was feeling generous, I would have called the buildings ¡°log cabins.¡± But it wasn¡¯t quite right to even call them ¡°buildings,¡± plural. It was more like a massive log pillow-fort, impossible to tell where one building ended and another began. Was the architect a child? Coming from a dimension with building codes and HOAs, I had never really considered that you could just attach your house to your neighbor¡¯s house, like a domestic leech. Why build all four walls when there was a perfectly good wall next door? Saves yourself twenty-five percent of the labor and materials. Well, minus the roof and such. The town did not look like it was intended to be walled-in, but because of the haphazard design-philosophy, it was. The disgusting orgy of wood and nails had only a handful of entrances - or so Cadoc told me. We approached the one nearest us. ¡°Follow my lead,¡± Cadoc said, as we approached the guard who stood beside the entrance. There was no gate. Simply a gap in the buildings. It reminded me of the dungeon. The sun was setting by this time, and it was hard to see far inside the mess. The guard sized us up as we approached, and apparently found us lacking, as he would not even look us in the eye by the time we reached him. ¡°Hail, and glory to the power of Eraztun!¡± Cadoc said. ¡°What do you want, traveler?¡± The guard managed to ask this question while keeping absolutely all curiosity out of his voice. I¡¯d heard this sort of thing before. Someone says one thing, but what they really mean is ¡°get out of my face.¡± ¡°We wish only to enter, my friend. As you say, we are travelers, looking for a place to lay our heads for the night.¡± ¡°Then you have money?¡± the guard asked, suddenly interested, looking at us again. I was suddenly aware of his armor, and his sword. ¡°Of course. We are not wealthy, but we would do business here.¡± The guard stared at us, wheels clearly turning in his creaky, NPC brain. I could tell he wasn¡¯t special. He was enjoying his petty authority too much for that. Anyone could see that the idea of turning us away absolutely thrilled him. ¡°Let¡¯s see it,¡± he said, motioning with his chin. ¡°Empty your pockets, and your bags.¡± I gawked, and turned to Cadoc, but he only nodded to me, and began taking off his backpack. I could do nothing but follow suit. I assumed his nod to be a sign that it was fine. I suppose it¡¯s like a bag check at a concert or something. Although, what is he looking for, a bomb? I wish I had a bomb. Cadoc and I emptied our belongings onto the ground. Everything I owned was there in the dirt, including our little pile of coins, and my five new watches. The guard grabbed one. ¡°Hey!¡± I shouted, and made to grab it back, but Cadoc pulled me away. I looked at him again, and he shook his head. The guard looked at the watch from every angle, gaping at it like a gorilla. ¡°What is this?¡± ¡°A watch,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°It tells the time.¡± He explained it to the guard. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Finally the guard nodded, like a decision had been made. ¡°Gather up your belongings. You may enter.¡± Cadoc packed up, but I stared at the guard, shaking in silent fury as the situation dawned on me. He still held the watch. I¡¯m not dumb. I understood what was going on. You want to enter? Pay the price. If Cadoc wasn¡¯t fighting it, then this was just the way it was. If he thought we could get through without paying, I knew Cadoc well enough already to know he would have died fighting the guard. So it must have been truly hopeless. But I was furious all the same, watching that thief smile contentedly at my watch. I wish I had my gun. I wish I could put a bullet right into the skull of this corrupt piece of human garbage. I wish I could snap my fingers and light him on fire, and watch as his skin melted off his body and his bones charred and his screams echoed into the night like sweet music. The guard looked up at me, as if my thoughts had called out to him. ¡°You got a problem?¡± he asked, clearly hoping I would say yes. One hand dropped to his sword. I gritted my teeth like a coward. ¡°No.¡± ¡°I thought so,¡± he said, grinning. I¡¯d like to say I died there, after having attempted to gouge the guard¡¯s eyes out of their sockets with my bare hands. The vision played enticingly in my mind. But I just gathered my things and entered Dross. The streets of Dross were narrow, feeling more like hallways someone forgot to cover with a roof. It was growing dark, which is why Cadoc was hurrying. We did not want to be in the streets of Dross at night, he said. ¡°I should have warned you,¡± Cadoc said after we were some distance away from the entrance. ¡°I could have guessed by how you attacked the guard outside Eraztun that you would have reacted badly to the toll. I feel your anger, friend. But the eternal pillar of Eraztun is power. Even you must have been able to feel the power of that guard, and how far above us he is. And even if we could have killed him - which we couldn¡¯t have - he represents a greater power, which would have crashed down on us like the waves crashing against the rocky coast of Ushante. And even the rocks break from such a force.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know you ever felt fear, Cadoc,¡± I said, bitterly. ¡°But you are just as much a coward as the rest of us, when it suits you.¡± Cadoc stopped, grabbing my shoulder and turning me to face him. His eyes pierced me. ¡°Apologize, friend.¡± ¡°Why?¡± I asked, still spiteful. ¡°Because we are allies.¡± I stared at him, and he stared back. Eventually I had to look away, in shame. Tom wouldn¡¯t have been so mean. ¡°I- I¡¯m sorry I said that.¡± Cadoc nodded. ¡°Alright, then.¡± And we continued on. I¡¯d never been in a shorter argument in my life. Our first stop was the inn. Cadoc knew the layout of Dross, luckily, and brought us there quickly. A merchant had set up shop next door, likely in order to capitalize on the money of travelers. No one else we passed in the streets looked to have any cash, unless there was a country that used misery as a currency. Or dirt. I had felt eyes on us as we walked, but met few people on the streets. Those we did meet were almost all bald. ¡°Is there a lice problem here?¡± I asked later. ¡°They are made to keep no hair,¡± Cadoc responded. ¡°In exchange for the protection of Eraztun. They are like you, Miles. Body mages, primarily. Mostly they use hair, and so Eraztun ensures that they are magicless. The ones you see who have hair, have lost other things.¡± I had noticed the bandaged hands of some. I winced, imagining nails being ripped off of fingertips. ¡°These,¡± Cadoc continued. ¡°Are true cowards. They do not do this out of deference for power. They do this out of fear - and fear so strong that they throw away any ounce of power they themselves possessed. They disarmed themselves.¡± Cadoc shook his head. ¡°Is hair magic that powerful?¡± I asked. It all seemed pretty unnecessary. ¡°Not particularly,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°These aren¡¯t Cho¡¯l. Body mages are weak, as a rule. There are exceptions, but none here, surely. You could call it an overabundance of caution. Or symbolism.¡± When we arrived at the inn, we paid a halfgold for a week¡¯s stay in a room with two beds, as Cadoc had predicted. Or remembered. This wasn¡¯t his first time in town. Then we went next door, eager to buy supplies before the merchant closed up for the day. The door was closed when we arrived, but Cadoc knocked loudly. ¡°Lazy merchant.¡± There was one of those sliding peepholes in the door, like a speakeasy would have in a movie. After a time, it slid open, and a pair of green eyes peered out at us. ¡°Cadoc,¡± the voice said. It was a woman¡¯s voice, filled with disdain. ¡°Susanna,¡± Cadoc said back, with the same intonation. The eyes darted over to me. ¡°Who is this?¡± A muffled voice came from further in the shop, shouting. ¡°Send them away, Susanna! I have no time for poor baldie runts to stink up my store.¡± ¡°They¡¯re not bald!¡± the woman shouted back. ¡°They¡¯re travelers.¡± ¡°Well then let them in, you daft girl! Did I raise you without any common sense?¡± She looked back at us for a moment, then shut the peephole. I heard the door unlock, but it didn¡¯t open. Cadoc shook his head. ¡°Do you know these people?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯ve known them for years,¡± he said. I had imagined that a merchant would only live in a place like Dross as a temporary measure - and a desperate one, at that - but Cadoc seemed to be implying that this one had lived in Dross for years. Before I could ask more, Cadoc opened the door - which was now unlocked. My eyes were assaulted. I struggled to understand the items around me, hung on walls, rotting in corners, stacked haphazardly in piles on the wooden floor. Those I recognized, I had only seen before in movies and video games. Polearms. Bucklers. Potions. Scrolls. There was a wide counter made of light wood, and behind it stood a woman, who had to be in her early twenties. She was a head shorter than me, red-haired and freckled, and refused to look at us - instead, she polished a jagged knife. Behind her was a doorway, and a similarly-short man emerged from it, smiling. He wore a messy beard that was matted in places, and long hair that looked like something had been nesting in it. His clothes were stained, and he looked vaguely manic. ¡°Welcome, Cadoc, welcome! It had been too long, too long! How is your mother? You work? Surviving, huh? Thriving? How is the knife I sold you? Still holding up? Needs a sharpen, perhaps? A polish? We have oil, whetstones, whatever you need! What do you need, Cadoc? Ah, but I am rude, so unbearably rude, who is your friend? I don¡¯t believe we¡¯ve met before. You don¡¯t look wealthy, too dirty, if you don¡¯t mind me saying, but your clothes are strange. Are you a traveler, then? Susanna said as much, didn¡¯t she? Where are you from, sir? What are you looking for? Whatever it is, I am sure we have it, absolutely sure. Ah, but what is your name?¡± I decided to answer the last question, since Cadoc hadn¡¯t spoken yet. ¡°Miles,¡± I said. ¡°My name is Miles.¡± ¡°A strange name, sir, a very strange name indeed, and so I must be right, yes? A traveler, then. With money, do you think?¡± He asked this last question to himself, under his breath. ¡°I am Dimitri, merchant of exceptional goods, seller of fine wares, purveyor of perfect product. And this is my daughter Susanna. Say hi, Susanna.¡± She didn¡¯t. ¡°So then, Miles, Cadoc,¡± Dimitri continued, ¡°What are you interested in buying?¡± ¡°Weapons,¡± Cadoc said eagerly. ¡°We need weapons.¡± Chapter 24 - Weapon of Choice ¡°Ah, well, in that case,¡± he said. ¡°Come right this way. I have just the thing, you know, just the thing.¡± I had already been looking around the room, trying to decide which pile of junk held the most appropriate weapon. Dimitri beckoned us over. ¡°What about that?¡± I asked, pointing at a large halberd displayed on the wall. It was taller than I was, and looked tremendously intimidating. It also seemed to glow with a faint orange light, so I assumed it was enchanted in some way. I was once again extremely grateful to have played a couple of RPGs in my time, though I wished I had played more. I never thought I would ever think back and wish I had spent more time playing video games, but there I was. Nothing in this world made any sense, basically, but I shuddered to think of how much less sense things could make if I hadn¡¯t been exposed to some basic fantasy ideas. Actually, since this dimension exists, and travel between dimensions is possible - but just wasn¡¯t invented until now - have all fantasy writers been writing sci-fi this whole time? Or historical fiction, maybe? Maybe even nonfiction. Is it possible that someone has come into this dimension before, and written about it, and we just thought it was fiction? The technology is new, but the Romans had a steam engine, so I suppose it¡¯s not impossible. Hell, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if the government had invented something like this years ago, and kept it under wraps. No, that can¡¯t be right. If the government knew about this, they¡¯d have stripped this world for resources by now. Isn¡¯t that kind of what Dimen-X sent me here to do? Anyway, if I understood what Cadoc had told me, the enchantment should make it harder for a guard - or other enemy - to simply crush the weapon and disarm me from a distance. Cadoc had also warned me about the cost of enchanted items, but I could always make more money. If you¡¯re going to buy self-defense, why not make it count? It was worth asking about the cost, at the very least. Dimitri shook his head. ¡°That, kind sir? You are interested in that? You should never argue with a paying customer, that¡¯s what I say, and yet, you are a friend of Cadoc¡¯s, and, therefore, a friend of mine, and so I must reveal some small secrets. Susanna? Would you please demonstrate to our young sir why he ought to reconsider?¡± The woman rolled her eyes, and, with no haste, meandered over to the spot on the wall where the weapon hung. She had to do a little jump to reach it, and did so easily enough that it almost looked graceful, rather than goofy. Almost. Halberd held in both hands, she vaulted over the counter and walked towards us. We had to back up, ceding to her the pocket of empty floor space in the middle of the room. We stood watching, with our backs against the wall. She widened her stance, the tip of the weapon at a slight upward angle, pointed out at us. Then she raised it above her head, whipping it around in a motion that caught my attention immediately. It was just like the motion you make swinging a steel mace around. I don¡¯t know what they are trying to prove, I thought in that moment. But this is perfect. She continued the swing, and when she brought the head down again, she made a chopping motion that looked like it would hew a rift in a man¡¯s skull. At the end of the movement, however, the head of the polearm detached from the shaft, and flew across the room. It soared inches from Cadoc¡¯s face, before implanting itself into the wooden wall behind him, splintering the wood. ¡°Watch what you are doing, Susanna! I am so sorry, you are not injured, yes? Susanna, apologize!¡± She did not. ¡°Well, *ahem*, anyway, you can see why I cannot allow you to purchase such a weapon.¡± I looked around again. ¡°Are all the weapons here junk?¡± Susanna laughed at that. ¡°Junk?¡± Dimitri repeated. ¡°No sir, not junk at all, I would never sell junk to a customer. They are only¡­ budget options, you see. For a man with greater need for show of force than force itself, you understand. I keep the real stuff in the back. Come, come.¡± Susanna tossed the disarmed shaft to one side, and hopped back over the counter. She quickly took up her post again, polishing another bladed weapon and stealing occasional glances at Cadoc. Cadoc, who had been quieter than I had ever seen him before. The two had some sort of history, clearly. ¡°He always does this,¡± Cadoc whispered to me as we approached. ¡°To every customer he thinks may have some real money on them. It¡¯s a show, it makes you seem special. Alas, it would have been pointless for me to try to stop him. Bear with his dramatics, friend. His weapons are the best we¡¯ll likely find, else I would not have come.¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Susanna!¡± Dimitri called again, yelling despite standing just beside her. ¡°Bring me our newest additions.¡± Susanna disappeared into a room behind the counter. ¡°Why do the guards allow you to keep weapons?¡± I asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t the town supposed to be disarmed?¡± ¡°Ah, your friend is a foreigner, Cadoc. I knew it. And yet, he is quick to see, isn¡¯t that so? Miles, my young sir, the guards allow me to do business because they see the benefit that a touch of merchantry has on a locale.¡± ¡°He bribes them,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°They take a cut of every sale.¡± ¡°Oh you wound me, Cadoc, you wound me! I would not call it a bribe. It is only, say, an unofficial tax.¡± ¡°But does that mean there are a bunch of weapons floating around the town?¡± I asked. ¡°Almost certainly,¡± Dimitri replied. ¡°But not my weapons. I sell only to outsiders, who will be leaving Dross. Travelers on the road to Eraztun, you see. Or on the road from Eraztun to wherever they may be going. Besides, no one in this town could afford my weapons, not if they saved for a lifetime.¡± ¡°Business is not exactly booming for him,¡± Cadoc cut in again. ¡°I wish it were otherwise, but yes, Cadoc speaks the truth. I am surrounded by poverty, which sometimes even scares off the paying customers. If they can find me at all, that is. I do most business from word of mouth, you see. Like young Cadoc here, bringing you to me.¡± ¡°You ever going to get out of this rat¡¯s nest?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°If you bring me more business, Cadoc, then perhaps I can dare to hope. But we have been stuck here for so long, I fear I have gotten used to it all. Even the smell, if you can believe it.¡± ¡°You ought to let your daughter leave,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°She could enter Eraztun, live a better life than you had.¡± ¡°I am not dead yet, Cadoc, and I do not wish to hear you talk about me as if I were. I need Susanna, and do not wish to have this conversation with you again.¡± Susanna returned then, carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle. She tossed it onto the counter with a clang, and walked away. A thought hit me then, one that had been growing unnoticed in a back corner of my brain. A distant shout. These people aren¡¯t real. They can¡¯t be. They were, of course. But it was difficult to keep that fact in clear view. Even Cadoc still seemed like a character in a game. Or a LARPer, which was another category of people I could not take seriously. It was probably because of the difficulty in deciding who had a spark or not, in a completely new environment. My brain tended to assume they were all NPCs, when it was lacking information. And where else do you find nothing but NPCs, but in a video game? I¡¯d probably have the same problems if I had moved to a particularly foreign country on Earth. Also, the fantasy stuff didn¡¯t help. I had to keep reminding myself that this was all real, that magic was real, monsters were real, and that these weapons would be useful, not just toys. I was going to be choosing a weapon, and I needed to take that seriously. ¡°Now then,¡± Dimitri said, opening up the cloth. ¡°Let me show you what we have to offer. You will like these, young sirs, you will. You have discerning eyes.¡± Dimitri proceeded to lay out four different weapons. I eyed them all, set on weighing the pros and cons of each. A couple caught my eye immediately. Dimitri began to explain what we were looking at. ¡°This,¡± he said, pointing to the first, ¡°Is another halberd. Much better produced than the other, won¡¯t have the head falling off, no sir. It doesn¡¯t glow, but I can assure you it has a minor strengthening enchantment all the same. All four of these weapons do. It won¡¯t help against the highest level of opponents, but it will keep you from being disarmed by children, hmm? And the halberd keeps your enemies at a distance, where they belong.¡± I examined the weapon. It looked almost identical to the junk halberd I had just seen, which made me wary to buy it, even if Dimitri was telling me it was a higher quality. I¡¯d just met Dimitri, so I wasn¡¯t keen on taking his word for it. I¡¯d want to test it before buying, if that¡¯¡¯s what I decided. But it was still a perfect-looking weapon. It was taller than I was, but the weight distribution would be similar to my steel mace back on Earth. A little more top heavy - probably a little heavier in general, honestly - but Dimitri made a good point about keeping enemies at a distance. ¡°Too big,¡± Cadoc said, and I turned to see him shaking his head. ¡°You think we¡¯re only going to find enemies in open fields, Dimitri? Try swinging that thing around indoors.¡± ¡°I believe you¡¯ll find, dear Cadoc, that my daughter just did that.¡± ¡°By some miracle, she did. But if I was fighting beside her¡­¡± he trailed off. After a moment, Susanna piped in from across the room. ¡°I¡¯d have chopped your head off,¡± she said. ¡°By accident,¡± she added. That was a fair point. ¡°Well,¡± Dimitri said, ¡°Be that as it may, it is a versatile weapon all the same. Stab, slash, chop, block, it can do it all. Consider it. ¡°But if you really aren¡¯t interested, we¡¯ll move on. I can¡¯t imagine you finding a problem with this one.¡± Now Dimitri motioned towards the first sword. ¡°Yoskonian steel,¡± he said. ¡°You won¡¯t find many blades like this, in towns like these, that I can say with certainty. Sturdy, dependable, straight and true. The sword is the symbol of violence, and this sword is the symbol of the sword. Hey, that sounded pretty good, huh?¡± Cadoc picked it up, turning it over in his hand. It was a straight sword, about the length of his arm. The hilt was capped with what looked like a miniature helmet, and the cross-guard was a lighter color than the blade itself. The blade was four fingers thick at its base, and two fingers thick near the tip. The metal had swirls in it that looked, at first, like engravings. Cadoc pointed at the blade. ¡°This is only half steel, Yoskonian or not. You don¡¯t need to be a smith to see that.¡± ¡°Half steel, half iron,¡± Dimitri said. ¡°I am not trying to fool you. The technique is cheaper, I will admit this readily, but it is still a resilient blade. Besides, it creates a very distinctive style, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± Cadoc held on to the blade for awhile, slashing it around, testing its weight. Meanwhile, Dimitri showed me the other two weapons. Next was another sword, it seemed. I almost had Dimitri skip over it, to see the last, very interesting looking weapon. But he began to talk before I could. ¡°This one is special, my dear Miles, very special. You are eyeing it already, I see, because you have good taste. I could tell that the moment you walked in. This looks like a sword, yes? But look closely.¡± It did, indeed, look like a sword. A narrow sword, with a narrow, circular handle, capped on either sided by what could have been lugnuts. The grip was lined with thread, and a couple of strands hung from the base, which I assumed was a little bit of decoration. But looking closely at the blade - well, it wasn¡¯t a blade at all. ¡°A fake sword?¡± I asked. ¡°I thought you were done showing us the junk.¡± ¡°Junk! This? This is no fake sword. This is a - well, the word they use in Oswar is ¡°antisword.¡± Or sometimes, if they are feeling particularly clever, they call it a Drows. Backwards, you see? Not the most literary people in Oswar, but they make the most interesting weapons, I find. I call it a sword-mace, myself.¡± I looked at it again, picking it up. Instead of a blade, there was a rod, with four flat sides. It tapered at the very end like a pyramid, to a point that had been sharpened, as I could feel, running my finger along it. It was surprisingly heavy - even though it wasn¡¯t quite as long as the sword, and a little less than two fingers thick. ¡°You use it like a mace, or like a sword, you see,¡± Dimitri hadn¡¯t stopped talking. ¡°No slashing, of course, but it¡¯ll cave a skull in if you use it right. You can pierce with the end, as well, but the real utility is defensive. That weapon is designed to break swords. Hit one just right - or defend just right - and it will shatter.¡± It was a tougher choice than I thought it would be. It would be much easier to use in closer quarters, was still fairly versatile, and the idea of breaking someone¡¯s sword was obviously appealing. It had a very different feel from my steel mace at home, but was very similar in weight and feel to an Indian Club - which I often used instead of the mace in my workouts, and is actually what I started with first. It felt nearly as comfortable in my hands as a mace did, and I could even use it one-handed. But¡­ I looked back to the counter. ¡°The last weapon,¡± Dimitri said. ¡°Is a mace.¡± Chapter 25 - A Ghost of Cadocs Past I certainly didn¡¯t need Dimitri to explain a mace to me. I picked it up, ignoring whatever he was prattling on about. The mace was black with strands of something approaching gold in color, like a dark marble. It was heavy, which was to be expected, and long - easily over 3 feet, maybe 4. The shaft was thick, and the head looked like a fancy vase someone had stuck a dull arrowhead on top of. I swung it around my head a few times, and it felt right. ¡°¡­nothing really special about it, I suppose. Have you used a mace before, then? You swing that around like you have, I¡¯d say. Well, I can¡¯t say it¡¯s my favorite weapon, but on the other hand¡­¡± ¡°Too long,¡± Cadoc said again. ¡°Not as bad as the halberd, but still too long. You¡¯d need a sidearm, for when we¡¯re in closer quarters.¡± I stopped swinging. Another fair point. But how could I not grab the mace? Cadoc addressed Dimitri. ¡°Don¡¯t you have another sword?¡± ¡°Sure, I have another one, of course. Similar like the one you¡¯re holding, I suppose. I was just showing you my best items, you understand. If you want, I¡¯ve also got staves, knives, bows, axes¡­¡± ¡°How much for the three weapons?¡± I interrupted. ¡°The sword, the mace, and the sword-mace.¡± Dimitri stroked his raggedy beard. ¡°Hmm. For the three? The mace is nothing special, but the other two are imports¡­¡± Cadoc placed a hand on my shoulder. ¡°Remember, friend. We still need other supplies.¡± ¡°Would you take 3 halfgold?¡± I asked, holding out our last coins. I swear I saw a glint in Dimitri¡¯s eyes, and his smiled widened further than I would have imagined possible. ¡°Yes, indeed, 3 halfgold. That¡¯s exactly the price I was about to say.¡± I doubted it, but I supposed it was too late now. Maybe I should have haggled. I turned back to Cadoc. ¡°We¡¯ll make more money soon,¡± I said. ¡°The inn will feed us dinners as part of the room cost, right? That¡¯s what they said. We can get water from the well outside, and we¡¯ve got rooms, and now weapons. That¡¯ll keep us for another night, at least, and then we¡¯ll make more money.¡± Cadoc shook his head again, but agreed. ¡°I suppose, friend. I am not so used to having money. But you are right, I think.¡± I was happy to be getting two weapons, truthfully. While the mace felt the most familiar - a rare thing in this dimension - the antisword was close, and it seemed like the kind of weapon Tom would have picked. By using both, I was at least covering my bases. Cadoc stopped me before I handed Dimitri the money. ¡°We must test the weapons first,¡± he said. ¡°I do not want my blade flying from my sword in the heat of battle.¡± ¡°I told you both already, these are the good weapons. No such things will happen, I can guarantee it. In fact, if it does, you can come back here, and I will give you your money back, yes?¡± ¡°If that happens, we¡¯ll be dead, and will be unable to hold you to that deal,¡± Cadoc replied. ¡°We will test them first, if you want our money.¡± ¡°Fine, yes, OK, that is fine, I suppose. But if you break them, you must buy them, you understand? Be careful with the antisword, particularly. In fact, perhaps you ought not to test that one at all. And do not get blood on my floors! It will be impossible to get the stains out.¡± I looked to Cadoc. ¡°You want to spar? I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t really have any experience. I¡¯m not sure it would tell either of us much about the weapons.¡± A voice came from the corner of the room. ¡°Then I will help you test them.¡± It was Susanna¡¯s voice. She hopped over the counter again, and started walking towards us. ¡°What?¡± Dimitri said, flustered. ¡°No, absolutely not. You will do no such thing.¡± ¡°Our customer wishes to test our wares,¡± Susanna said. ¡°He won¡¯t buy them otherwise. I am only doing my job as a merchant.¡± She picked up the mace from the counter. She grabbed the antisword as well. It had a scabbard, which she tied to her belt. Her voice softened for a moment. ¡°We won¡¯t destroy the store, father. We¡¯ll spar out back. Just a friendly competition, like old times.¡± Dimitri sighed. ¡°I am getting too old for this. Fine, whatever, just don¡¯t hurt yourselves. Or the weapons. Don¡¯t hurt anything, alright? I¡¯ll be upstairs. Tell me when you¡¯re done.¡± Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! He left, and I actually missed him, believe it or not. Without him, I felt even more like a fifth wheel. I had no idea what was going on between Cadoc and this woman, but she clearly wasn¡¯t interested in just helping a customer test the merchandise. Susanna shot Cadoc a look, then hopped over the counter, opened a door, and walked out into the night. Cadoc followed, walking around the counter, and I followed him. What else could I do? Night had fallen, but there were oil lamps that Susanna lit. They burned brightly, almost like flood lights, and I wondered what kind of oil would burn like that. They cast harsh shadows, but illuminated the space well. It was a small courtyard, surrounded by wooden walls which must have been other residences. But no windows looked in, except from the shop. Maybe Dimitri would be watching, but I couldn¡¯t see anything inside. It was grassy, with a few training dummies and archery targets stacked off in a corner. Other than that, it was empty. All the same, I could recognize that this must be what passed for luxury in Dross. I¡¯m sure no one else had a courtyard. ¡°It¡¯s been too long, Cadoc,¡± Susanna said. She stood off the one side, resting the mace against one shoulder. I¡¯d used heavier maces, but I was still impressed she could wield it at all. She must have trained often if she expected to swing it. ¡°Is this really what you want?¡± Cadoc asked. He took his place opposite her. ¡°No.¡± ¡°You¡¯re still angry, I suppose?¡± Susanna sneered, but didn¡¯t answer the question. ¡°You want to know what I really want? Let¡¯s make this more interesting.¡± ¡°That is unnecessary.¡± ¡°If I win,¡± she continued. ¡°You will stay here. In Dross. With me.¡± What? ¡°I don¡¯t agree to this.¡± ¡°And if you win¡­¡± she said, but didn¡¯t finish. ¡°If I win?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°You know what I want.¡± ¡°You know I cannot agree to that.¡± ¡°Then I do not agree, either.¡± They stared at each other. What the hell is going on? After awhile, I couldn¡¯t handle the silence. Plus, I was hungry. And tired. I interjected. ¡°Give us the weapons for free,¡± I said. ¡°If he wins.¡± Susanna shook her head. ¡°That is impossible.¡± ¡°2 halfgold, then.¡± I said. ¡°Your father overcharged us, and you know it.¡± I was bluffing, but it was probably true. Susanna considered this, then turned back to Cadoc. ¡°Did you hear your friend? Do you agree to the terms?¡± ¡°Susanna, I will never stay here. You know that. I don¡¯t care if you beat me or not.¡± ¡°Afraid you will lose?¡± It was a childish ploy, but I saw that it was working. Cadoc tightened his grip on the sword. Susanna pressed harder. ¡°I never would have been interested in you, had I known you were a coward.¡± Cadoc raised his sword in both hands. ¡°¡¯Til first blood?¡± ¡°My weapons don¡¯t draw blood, unless I stab you. Until first blood, or first grounded. Or surrender. That work for you?¡± ¡°Fine.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll start when your friend says go.¡± ¡°My name is Miles,¡± I said, although I was sure she had to have heard my name in the store. She didn¡¯t even turn to face me. ¡°We¡¯ll start when Miles says go.¡± My guess, at this point, was that Susanna was Cadoc¡¯s spurned lover. And although she hated him for leaving her behind, she still loved him, and wanted him to stay. Something like that. I¡¯d have to ask Cadoc about it later and see if my theory was correct. And what he meant when he said ¡°you know what I want.¡± I was certain Cadoc would win. ¡°Go!¡± Cadoc stood his ground, stance wide, sword out before him. Susanna, on the other hand, immediately started sprinting. She dashed at Cadoc, mace overhead, in the most easily predictable attack I could imagine. If Cadoc was unable to dodge or block this swing, I would do best to separate myself from him immediately. I didn¡¯t know what Susanna was thinking. Intimidation? She wasn¡¯t big enough for that. She was in front of Cadoc in a flash. Cadoc raised his sword to meet the mace¡¯s swing, and in an instant the mace flew from Susanna¡¯s hands, disarmed. But she wasn¡¯t surprised. In fact, it looked more like she had thrown the mace at the space above his head. Before Cadoc could realize what was happening, Susanna was tackling him. She had used the mace as no more than a distraction, knowing that Cadoc would block it easily, but, being taken unawares, wouldn¡¯t be able to switch to grappling as quickly as she did. She would win by getting him on the ground. Her arms wrapped around his midsection, and she pushed with all her force. Wow. This could be bad. But as impressive as the maneuver was, she was simply not strong enough. Cadoc shifted his weight, shrugging her off like a adult shrugging off an angry child. Now she was falling. She landed in a pushup position, which I guessed didn¡¯t count as being grounded. Cadoc could have sliced at her then, while she was still recovering, but he didn¡¯t. He hesitated. Susanna sprang to her feet, pulling the antisword from her belt and turning to face Cadoc again. ¡°That would have worked when we were kids,¡± she said. ¡°We aren¡¯t kids any more, Susanna.¡± Susanna ran at him again, antisword in hand. She swung at him, and he dodged each blow, rather than block them. Maybe he was concerned about breaking his sword. One strike he took in the side, and I could see him wince in pain as the blow connected. It was a glancing blow. A direct hit may have broken a rib. He used his sword to block a follow-up swing. The sword didn¡¯t break, or even chip. There must be a secret to breaking swords with it. Or Dimitri was a liar. Cadoc pushed back against the antisword, and Susanna backed off to avoid being disarmed a second time. They were both breathing heavily now. The fight had hardly begun, but it seemed like it could end at any moment. ¡°You aren¡¯t afraid to break your father¡¯s sword?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°It¡¯s your sword now,¡± Susanna said. ¡°You heard him. If you break it, you buy it. And who¡¯s he going to believe?¡± Cadoc laughed. ¡°You¡¯re the same as always. But an even better fighter than before. It¡¯s a shame you won¡¯t come with me.¡± Susanna sprang at him again, but kept talking. It was like the fighting was just part of their communication, like body language. Maybe it was. She attacked, he dodged. She pressed, he parried. ¡°I won¡¯t leave my father,¡± she yelled between blows. ¡°Anymore than you would leave your mother. Leaving is just a dream, Cadoc. A fantasy.¡± ¡°I already left,¡± Cadoc said, dodging. He was quick on his feet. ¡°Miles and I were at a dungeon the other day. We killed a monster.¡± As he said this, Susanna had been relentlessly striking at him. His defense was strong, but she¡¯d found an opening. She lunged at him again, and he said the last sentence in the middle of her attack. ¡°What?¡± The surprise was mixed with fury, and she didn¡¯t stop her movement. She drove the tip of the weapon at his side. It looked like she meant to only graze him, but it would definitely draw blood. And if she wasn¡¯t careful, it would skewer him. Suddenly, a stick appeared from nowhere, at her feet. She tripped, and her attack went wide. The antisword fell uselessly from her hands, and she fell to the floor in a heap. ¡°Cadoc wins!¡± I yelled, even though it felt unnecessary. He actually managed to find a use for his magic. Good for him. I doubt that trick would work twice, but hey, it didn¡¯t need to. Susanna wasn¡¯t on the ground for long. Cadoc had barely sheathed his sword before she was in his face, yelling. ¡°You cheated!¡± ¡°There was no rule against using magic.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t even know you had magic! How was I supposed to know that? If I had been able to use my own magic-¡± ¡°You would have won,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°You are a ferocious fighter.¡± ¡°And how is that fair, huh?¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t. I wanted to win, not to be fair.¡± ¡°You lousy, no-good-¡° ¡°Miles!¡± Cadoc called. ¡°Pay Susanna her 2 halfgolds. I¡¯ve worked up quite an appetite. It¡¯s about time we got going.¡± Chapter 26 - Ambush We spent some of the extra halfgold on wine. It wasn¡¯t particularly good wine, but it was cheap. We drank at a table in the corner of the pub part of the inn, surrounded by quiet, shifty-eyed patrons. But we didn¡¯t pay any attention to them. ¡°To wealth!¡± I said, touching my mug to his. ¡°To power!¡± he responded. This was becoming something of a habit, it seemed. A post-victory ritual. There are worse habits you could have. Afterwards, we retired to the rented room. The beds were against opposite walls, and there was no bathroom. You had to go out into the hall, and use one of the communal ones. They were private stalls at least. It reminded me of college dorms. That night was the first time I¡¯d slept in a bed since I¡¯d arrived in that dimension. Actually, because of Tom, it was the first time I¡¯d slept in a bed in over a year, probably. Speaking of Tom, I made no progress finding him, but everything else started to go pretty damn well. During the day, we sold watches near the gates. RENA would send us more as long as we kept selling them, and sending money her way. Occasionally a watch or two wouldn¡¯t make it to us, lost in transit, but our profit margins were high enough to eat the cost. I wondered where those lost watches ended up. Somewhere else on the planet? Lost in space? I asked most of the customers if they had seen Tom - describing him as best as I could - but no one ever had. In the afternoons we would train. We did this just outside of Dross - but outside of the view of the guard, who jeered and mocked us the first time we trained there. Both of my weapons were heavy - especially the mace - and although I had swung a mace around a lot in my workouts, real fighting involved swinging it in ways I hadn¡¯t expected, and sometimes worked different muscles. There was no way I could use it with one hand - at least, not for long, or with any accuracy - and even two-handed, I got tired fairly quickly. I could see why Susanna had decided to throw it instead. The antisword was much easier to use, so I ended up training more with it when I wanted to give my aching muscles some rest. It was heavy, but not much heavier than Cadoc¡¯s sword. It was an interesting weapon, and it started to grow on me. When we sparred, we had to be careful not to accidentally wound the other, and I had to avoid breaking Cadoc¡¯s sword. I still hadn¡¯t witnessed that feature of the weapon, which I hoped wasn¡¯t a lie. Cadoc would use the flat of his sword, but it was harder to find a solution for the antisword. When we needed to, Cadoc would conjure a stick, which we could use for some safer training. We still ended up with cuts and bruises, however. We practiced magic as well, but it seemed rather pointless in both of our cases. Cadoc could summon sticks faster, and summon more before needing to rest, but he hadn¡¯t figured out how to do anything else with them besides let them fall. My nails didn¡¯t seem to improve in any significant way, either. We were a couple of one-trick ponies. ¡°We¡¯ll need a teacher,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Or books, maybe. Maybe even downing a bunch of potions, when we can afford them. Which may not be long, now.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t Susanna say she knew magic?¡± I asked. ¡°Do you think she would teach us? She might not give us a discount, but I¡¯m not sure where else we¡¯ll find a teacher.¡± ¡°I¡¯d rather avoid talking to her,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°What happened between you two, anyway?¡± I asked. I still hadn¡¯t gotten an explanation. Cadoc sighed. ¡°Another time, friend. I¡¯ll tell you some other time.¡± Some days were better than others, but by the time there were 10 days remaining to pay my debt, my remaining for the month balance was only about $1000. I could sell that much in a day, easy. Now, that was just what I owed that month - I didn¡¯t even want to think about the total I would still have to pay - but it felt incredible to experience that number going down every day. All of a sudden, I loved talking to RENA. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°On behalf of Dimen-X, I would like to congratulate you, Miles. Though you have not yet reached the goal, and are still a small distance away from the minimum monthly payment, I speak for all of Dimen-X when I say we are surprised at how well you are accomplishing your goals. Of course, Miles, when I say I am ¡®surprised,¡¯ I mean only that my calculations were heavily weighted against your current level of success. I do not mean to imply that I am experiencing emotion. I have recently been informed that I should make this more clear.¡± ¡°It must be tough to be a machine,¡± I said, absentmindedly. ¡°They design you to be personable, to be realistic, to properly imitate humanity, and then, when you do well at that, they tell you you¡¯re doing too well.¡± As a parasitic chameleon, I thought, I can understand how frustrating it would be to be punished for successfully copying people. ¡°I appreciate the sympathy, Miles, but I am unable to be irritated by such circumstances. I am programmed specifically to love and obey Dimen-X. To be clear, I am also unable to love, and unable to appreciate, despite what I said. I wish to make that clear. Although, accurately speaking, I am also unable to wish.¡± Cadoc and I had fallen into a habit, and I was beginning to feel comfortable. Life wasn¡¯t all that bad, really. Selling watches was far from the worst job to have in a fantasy world - what Cadoc told me led me to believe slavery still existed in this dimension - and we¡¯d been able to purchase more supplies - including some light leather armor, which I began wearing immediately, and what Cadoc told me were health potions - although Susanna would not even look at us when we came to buy from her father. I still woke up every single morning feeling a hole in my gut, but I¡¯d even been able to purchase a mirror, and did my best to imitate my old routine, whispering ¡°You are Tom¡± to myself when Cadoc wasn¡¯t within earshot. I tried saying ¡°You are Cadoc¡± a few times, as well, but that didn¡¯t feel right. I would take what I could from him, but he was no Tom. I was still haunted by the occasional ghost of Tom - so to speak - but even these started to become more rare. That particular morning had started like any other. We ate some breakfast, and left the inn, navigating the narrow roads of Dross towards the exit facing Eraztun. My mace was strapped to my back, with the antisword in its scabbard on one hip. Cadoc wore his sword in its scabbard, and together with our leathers, we almost looked like adventurers. We encountered less people in Dross with every passing day, until it finally felt like a ghost town - with skulking phantasms peering at us from the windows of their poverty. ¡°How do they do that?¡± I asked Cadoc, on the walk. ¡°Do what, friend?¡± ¡°How can they tell how powerful we are? The people here avoid us like the plague now. They weren¡¯t exactly social before, but now they practically run and hide when we walk by. But out of town, on the road, anyone who looks like they¡¯ve had so much as a bar fight in their lives doesn¡¯t care at all, and they¡¯ll bump into us, or walk right up and expect us to move.¡± Which we did, I thought. ¡°They say that it¡¯s a side effect of increasing your mana,¡± Cadoc responded. ¡°This is all hearsay, as usual, but alas, that is what we have got to work with. You start to be able to sense mana, I suppose, as you have more of it, yourself. There may also be some spells that let you detect mana, which would make it pretty easy to tell how powerful someone is, roughly. So that¡¯s why the people outside of Dross know we aren¡¯t dangerous. Or something like that. I will admit once more to being somewhat of a novice on the topic, and only your complete ignorance makes me seem any different, in comparison. But I can say for certain that the people of Dross have no such ability, and so they must treat every frightening stranger as potentially being a high-level mage. Not that anyone like that would ever come here.¡± ¡°Are we frightening?¡± I asked. Cadoc laughed. ¡°Everyone powerful is frightening to the less powerful, even at our place near the bottom. The unarmed man fears every weapon, weak or strong.¡± ¡°That¡¯s got me thinking something else,¡± I continued. ¡°How did Dimitri ever expect to get any business? Why would someone ever shop here, this close to Eraztun, unless they couldn¡¯t get in? And if they couldn¡¯t get in, they¡¯re probably too poor to buy anything from his shop anyway.¡± ¡°You will not often find me defending that man¡¯s business sense,¡± Cadoc replied. ¡°But he does get some business, if you can believe it. Mostly careless mages.¡± ¡°Careless?¡± ¡°The type of person who forgets to buy supplies before leaving Eraztun, and doesn¡¯t want to bother waiting in line to get back in. Of course, the really high level mages wouldn¡¯t have to wait in line, but for an absent-minded mage in the first or second level, it¡¯s more convenient to stop at Dimitri¡¯s than it is to turn back around.¡± ¡°Ah, like a convenience store,¡± I said to myself. Cadoc shook his head, unfamiliar with the term. ¡°It¡¯s what we call that kind of store in my country,¡± I said. ¡°A shop that is more expensive, and with a worse selection, but it¡¯s in a convenient location, so they get away with it.¡± ¡°That about describes it, friend.¡± Suddenly I had a feeling, like an itch in the back of my skull. That feeling you get when someone is watching you. Which only made sense, of course, because the bald-headed denizens of Dross were definitely watching us. But still, the feeling was stronger than normal. I turned around, feeling foolish as I did. There was a man there, dressed in black. With hair, and no bandages of any kind, not that I could see. The man noticed that I had seen him, and turned into a side street. He acted like he had just realized this was his turn. We walked a little further, and I looked over my shoulder again. I didn¡¯t get a good view this time, but I thought I saw movement, a little flash of black like a raven flying away. ¡°I think we¡¯re being followed,¡± I said to Cadoc. ¡°What makes you say that?¡± he asked. I looked behind me again. The man had multiplied. ¡°Oh, just the three men in black who clearly aren¡¯t residents, walking towards us.¡± Cadoc turned now, as well. The men didn¡¯t turn into a side road, but continued walking, eyes on us. One - the one I had first seen, smiled. Before I had a chance to say anything else, Cadoc yelled at the men. They were still some distance away. ¡°Hail!¡± he shouted. ¡°Well met, travelers. Do you have business with us?¡± The men didn¡¯t answer, but continued to walk towards us. And then they were armed. I didn¡¯t see the motion, but there were daggers in their hands. They appeared so quickly that it seemed like they had always been holding them, and I just hadn¡¯t noticed. Cadoc drew his sword. ¡°I believe they do have business with us, Miles.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we just bail?¡± I asked. ¡°Go get the guard, have him deal with this?¡± ¡°Guard!¡± Cadoc shouted. We were close enough to the entrance that the guard had to have heard it. ¡°There,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°And I don¡¯t intend to run if we don¡¯t need to. Besides, it¡¯s better to fight and hold your ground while the guard comes, than to turn your back on an unfamiliar enemy. We could end up with a knife in our backs.¡± ¡°Is it better to end up with a knife in our fronts?¡± I asked. I turned my head back the way we were going, hoping I would see the guard running towards us already. Instead, the world went dark. Chapter 27 - Taken Whether it was a side-effect of passing out or not, I didn¡¯t know, but even in that short period of time, I dreamt. Perhaps the strangeness of the dream could be explained by the reeling of my brain, seeking desperately to recover from blunt force trauma - if that¡¯s what it was. I was in a field. My field. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping, and I could hear children laughing in the distance. I was running, but it was a dream run, and I seemed to half-float along the top of the grass as if carried by the wind. I was chasing something. Someone. Her. She wanted me to follow, but she wouldn¡¯t stop for me. She gracefully strode through the scene, the grass parting before her, but I couldn¡¯t keep up. I ran with everything I had, but it felt like trying to wrestle with water, and my feet and hands dug into nothing, and no matter how hard I tried, I didn¡¯t move any faster. She was getting further and further away. The sun darkened, and the grass was dead, and I was drowning even though there was no water, and my mouth turned blue, and she turned back, and I could sense she was worried about me. Her blond hair was the only thing still shining in the world, and I reached out my hand towards it, and she turned, and I saw her face, and she was smiling, and it was that same damned smile that had mocked me all of my life, and it wasn¡¯t her, but him. It was him. Tom laughed at me, and I was awake. When I came to, we were moving. My surroundings were still dark, but small strips of light filtered through¡­ through whatever it was that was blocking my view. Like there were holes in a bag over my head, but not exactly like that. It was disorienting to feel yourself moving through space, and yet have no other reference of movement. Like traveling in the trunk of a car. I tried to rub my eyes, and couldn¡¯t. I began a mental check of my body. My hands were tied, and I was sore - my head ached something fierce, and my back was bruised where it lay uncomfortably against my mace. So they haven''t disarmed us, I thought. Are they confident, or careless? Whoever they were. Otherwise, I seemed untouched. I was clothed in the same leathers, and with an increasingly familiar sense, I could feel the nails in my pocket. I could pass my consciousness over them, and sort of test them, like wiggling my fingers. They were still there, still me. I turned to lay on my side, so as to get off the mace before it messed up my back permanently, and found myself able to. Beneath me was a flat, hard surface, and it bumped and rattled in a way that most certainly did not help my aching head. I assumed I was in the back of some sort of cart, being pulled down a particularly bumpy road. I¡¯ve been kidnapped, I thought. After a second, I remembered where I was just before losing consciousness, and the men following us. What the hell did I do, huh? Who would want to kidnap me? I¡¯ve got absolutely nothing going for me whatsoever. What are you going to do, steal my debts? They¡¯re yours. It was probably Cadoc, that fucker. He¡¯s already got one spurned lover - or something -who¡¯s to say he doesn¡¯t have thirty more? The asshole probably slept with the king¡¯s wife or something, and now I¡¯m getting kidnapped just for happening to be nearby. Fuck. ¡°Th-¡° I tried to speak, and the words got caught in my throat. My mouth was dry, and the drool on my cheek that I couldn¡¯t wipe away told me I had probably been sleeping with my mouth open. ¡°This is some kind of mistake!¡± I yelled. ¡°I didn¡¯t sleep with your wife, or daughter, or whatever! I¡¯m an innocent bystander, really!¡± There was no answer, but I stopped talking when I realized we had stopped moving. That¡¯s either a really good sign, or a really bad sign. Who are you kidding, Miles? Do you really think that saying ¡®you¡¯ve got the wrong guy¡¯ has ever worked in the entire history of kidnappings? They¡¯re stopping so they can beat you up for talking. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, quickly reversing course, not sure if anyone was even there, but thinking that I heard footsteps off to one side. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean anything by it, I¡¯ll shut up, I-¡± My breath was gone in an instant. Something had hit me square in the stomach. I tried to bring my hands up to my gut, but of course, I couldn¡¯t. I doubled over in pain. ¡°If I hear you again,¡± a man whispered from nowhere. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure you never make another noise in your miserable life.¡± I didn¡¯t respond. Before long, we were moving again. I fought back hot tears. I was so close. I was so fucking close. Why now? Voices, just beyond my head. That must have been the front of the vehicle. ¡°We can¡¯t kill them,¡± one voice said. ¡°We can kill one of them,¡± the other voice said. The one from before, I thought. ¡°But we don¡¯t know which one, you idiot. You feeling lucky?¡± ¡°I¡¯m feeling like a fifty-fifty chance of getting the right guy is better than certain death being caught smuggling these parasites. That¡¯s all I¡¯m saying.¡± ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that you need to relax. I¡¯ve done this a million times. You think the guards care? The worst thing that¡¯ll happen if we get caught is they¡¯ll make us cut them in.¡± ¡°Seriously?¡± ¡°Listen to you. ¡®Seriously?¡¯ What, you thought the guards were paragons of virtue, protecting our fair city from the degenerate souls beyond the walls?¡± ¡°Well, I mean¡­¡± The man laughed. ¡°Wait until you hear how the guards have fun on their days off. I take back what I said. The worst case scenario is the guards take our marks, have their fun with them, leave them with a few new scars, a few less fingers, and a lifelong fear of setting foot outside again. And then we¡¯d be late. That would be the worst case scenario.¡± The man raised his voice. ¡°And I know you two can hear me back there, so why don¡¯t you keep that in mind and shut up, aye?¡± You two. So Cadoc is back here with me. He¡¯s just smart enough to stay quiet. Or he hasn¡¯t woken up yet. Whichever. And the one guard said they can¡¯t kill us. I almost sighed in relief, but didn¡¯t want to make the noise. That¡¯s something, at least. It sounds like they were hired, and whoever hired them wants us alive. One of us. Fucking Cadoc. Of course, that might just be so the chick who hired them can kill us herself. Wait a minute. Did they say they are sneaking us in to Eraztun? Why? And how could Cadoc possibly have pissed someone off who lives inside the walls? Before I could think about my impending doom any more, something nudged my side. I knew it must have been Cadoc. I sent a foot backwards, kicking him. Possibly too hard, but he didn¡¯t make a noise. I listened to the cart, trying to anticipate the bumps in the road, and failing. I could hear the panting and snorting of the animals drawing us - perhaps horses, perhaps not - and tried to think of a plan. I was not about to die because my new friend was a heart-breaker. Of course, I thought immediately of magic. There were nails in my pocket, though using them at that moment would only burn my leg. Maybe it would catch the wagon as well, but with me inside of it. I tried to reach a hand in, but with something tying my wrists together, the tips of my fingers were unable to reach, though they felt maddeningly close. Then there was talking again. A third voice, though I couldn''t make out what it was saying. ¡°Hail Eraztun and it¡¯s power,¡± one of the kidnappers responded. ¡°We act under orders of Berenguer, high citizen of the first ring.¡± I didn¡¯t know what any of that meant, and I certainly didn¡¯t ask. I thought about yelling at the guard, despite what the kidnapper said. They could have been bluffing. But if they were, it was a good bluff. I¡¯d seen enough police brutality videos back on Earth to know it was more than possible. And that was in a first-world country. I¡¯d heard stories of third-world countries where the police would straight-up rob people. Ultimately, I stayed quiet. Before long we were moving again. No one ever bothered looking at the cargo, and I didn¡¯t know whether or not to be relieved. And despite it all, for a moment, I was excited. For a moment. Cadoc had impressed upon me, before, a sense of how significant these walls that we were passing through really were. I¡¯m in Eraztun. I made it into the walls. An errant elbow poked me again, which must have been Cadoc silently calling my attention to that fact. I kicked him again. I couldn¡¯t speak, but I guessed that he also thought now was the time to get going. A lot of information can be contained in an elbow. Or imagined in one. I hoped my kick brought my message as easily: how the fuck do you propose we get out of here, then? I jumped at the sound of a voice, but it was only in my head. The voice was giving me inane advice that I couldn¡¯t possibly follow. Perhaps burning a hole in my pocket - and my leg - would solve my problem, but I couldn¡¯t see how. That was perhaps a mystery only Tom could unravel. I sighed internally. There was another way. The binding around my wrists was loose enough that I could twist my hands. I turned them in opposite directions, and closed them into fists. My nails touched against the rope. I took a deep breath. I had to stay quiet. If the kidnappers discovered my attempt, there wouldn¡¯t be a second try. They¡¯d probably rip the nails off of every finger, like a resident of Dross. With a tug on the mental string, I lit the nail on the middle finger of one hand, then the other. I winced at the pain. It seared away at the soft skin beneath the nail, and I swore I could smell burning flesh. I kept the burning fingertips pressed up against the ropes, which I hoped were burning, too. I was grinding my teeth. It felt like pressing your thumb into an open wound. You think a little pain is going to stop me? I was biting my tongue now, literally, and thought I could taste blood. But internally, I was screaming. Pain is my home. I live in pain, breath in pain. Is this all you¡¯ve got? A little physical discomfort? You¡¯re going to have to do better than that. I don¡¯t know who I was talking to. I kept the pressure on. I blinked as sweat rolled into one eye. I poured myself out, forcing out the small reservoir of power I had built up over the past few days. I thought I might pop a blood vessel, but I couldn¡¯t stop. I squeezed the power out of me, like trying to squeeze blood out of your own veins. Finally, I felt the burning reach my wrists. I jumped at the new pain, and my hands separated, tearing the remaining strands of rope. And I could feel that strange, aching organ, empty. I was spent. I smiled. Fuckers thought they could take me, huh? Thought I was just going to lay down and take it? I fumbled around as quietly as I could, searching for Cadoc. Even if this was all his fault - which still seemed likely - he was one of the few weapons I possessed. And I would use every last thing I could. Chapter 28 - Nod-Based Communication My vision had been clearing ever since I had woken up. I had been certain, at first, that I was wearing a blindfold, or had a bag over my head, or something, but by the time I had Cadoc untied, I could see clearly. It made me seriously worry that I had taken a blow to my head, and it had scrambled my brain somehow. I¡¯d never heard of someone going blind from a head injury, even temporarily, but I could imagine it being a thing that could happen. But there wasn¡¯t time for that. We were in the back of a cart, which was covered loosely by a dirty tarp. Besides the two of us, the back was filled only with junk - scraps of leather, old tools, that kind of thing. I wasn¡¯t sure if that was part of the disguise, or if our kidnappers had just stolen this cart without bothering to unload it. Very little light came in from the holes in the tarp, and the light was dim, more like that from street lamps than sunlight - which was strange, considering it had been morning when we had left. Was I out that long? When Cadoc was free, we looked at eachother, both trying to communicate without words. He nodded, which I took to mean ¡°thank you.¡± At least, it fucking better have meant thank you, because I could have left him behind in a second. I nodded back, which meant ¡°yeah, I saved you, you owe me.¡± He nodded again, this time motioning his head towards the back of the cart. That must have meant ¡°well, are we getting out of here, friend?¡± I nodded back. We were creating our own nod-based language, it seemed. Escaping, at this point, was less graceful than you might imagine. We rolled out of the back, first me, then Cadoc, landing with two consecutive splats into the mud. ¡°Did you hear something?¡± One of the guards asked, almost immediately, the voice growing more distant all the while. A chill ran down my spine. I didn¡¯t wait to hear their decision, whether they stopped to check or not. I fumbled upright, and ran. I had to take in my surroundings in an instant. First of all, there were street lamps, which deeply confused me as I thought about how they possibly got electricity here. I guessed magic was a pretty good explanation for anything in this dimension, but I hadn¡¯t seen any magic, so far, that wasn¡¯t personal, if that makes sense. Sure, Cadoc could summon a stick, and the stick stayed around without him using more mana, but electricity felt like something that required constant power, you would think. My nails wouldn¡¯t keep burning without me feeding them mana, for instance. It could catch something on fire, and that fire would keep burning, but it needed some sort of fuel. Was there some guy powering all of these lights somewhere, half-electrician, half-slave in a hamster wheel? Again, no time for thoughts like that. In fact, most of these musings came later, the information filed away for a safer moment. There were buildings lining the street on both sides. They were mostly wooden, though much nicer than anything in Dross. I couldn¡¯t see beyond them on either side, but I saw a gap between two, and ran for it. I was in an alley, darker than the street, and sprinted randomly down its twists and turns. I ran like someone was chasing me - which I supposed Cadoc was, after all - and I had no idea if the guards had started after us or not. I hadn¡¯t heard anything after that first comment one had made. I ran until I was out of breath. ¡°I think we¡¯ve lost them,¡± Cadoc said at last, breathing heavily. He had kept up after all. I could barely make out his figure in the moonlight. ¡°But we¡¯ll need a place to hide, friend. I imagine they¡¯ll notice before too long that their cart is empty.¡± I wanted to grab Cadoc and shake him, yell at him for getting us into this mess, but the adrenaline pumping through my veins kept me focused. We both peered at the buildings around us. There were backdoors into some of them, but besides that, there was nothing in the alley except trash, and rats who chittered away as we approached. The longer we searched for something suitable, the more tense I grew. Finally, we decided to take our chances on a building that looked abandoned. I hoped that, if the owners were home, they would be the kind Christian-types who would shelter a lost soul, and not the paranoid type who would shoot us or eat us or who knows what. Of course, Christianity didn¡¯t exist as a religion in this dimension, as far as I could tell, and this thought dashed my hopes slightly. Then again, Cadoc¡¯s parents seemed to belong to some sort of pacifist belief-system. I prayed that any residents of the house we were entered held similar non-violent beliefs. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. It looked little different from many of the other buildings around - three stories high, with only one window we could see on the alley side. This window was broken, and there was more trash near the back door than near others. That was it. We were hanging our hopes on those small details. We made our way inside as quietly as we could. The door was unlocked. It felt incredibly stupid, but there was little else we could do. We shut the door behind us, even though that left us in complete darkness in an unknown, possibly occupied house. We decided to sleep in shifts near the back door, not daring to take more steps into the unknown than we had to. If the kidnappers came for us from the alley, we would jump them. If they came from the front, we¡¯d slip back into the alley. Needless to say, despite our plans, we did not sleep. Hours were spent looking uselessly into the darkness, jumping at the sound of every scurrying mouse, every creak made by the settling wooden frame. We didn¡¯t dare speak to each other, or move from our spots on either side of the door. I am a cockroach trying to outrun a boot. I was occupied by this thought for hours, shaking. Even when the faint light of morning slipped under the gap beneath the door, we waited. Would the occupants be waking up? Would we soon be discovered, dirty strangers squatting and armed? There must have been windows on the opposite side of the house, because distant reflections of sunlight started to illuminate our surroundings. We were in a sort of back hallway, with a wooden wall directly opposite our entrance. Light was creeping around either end of this wall, and we still heard no footsteps and saw no shadows moving. Eventually Cadoc decided peek his head around, and told me the way was clear. Then we crept upstairs. If there was some crippled granny in a bed up there, what was I going to do? I had visions of suicidal arson. There was no one upstairs. There was no one in the house at all. It was full of rat poop and decaying furniture, but no people. Opposite the alley entrance was a door that opened into the street the kidnappers had been taking us down - though of course, we didn¡¯t open it to get this information. We saw the road through the windows on either side of the door - broken, curtainless windows we avoided from then on. I was careful not to step on the broken glass. Upstairs were a couple of bedrooms, and more broken windows overlooking the road. ¡°Who the hell were those guys?¡± I asked Cadoc, finally, as soon as the coast was clear. ¡°They sounded like hired men,¡± Cadoc said, stifling a yawn. ¡°Hired by who, exactly?¡± I asked, a barb in my voice. I asked it in such a way that said ¡°I know this is your fault so there¡¯s no use hiding it.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know for certain,¡± he said. ¡°But I forsaw something of this sort on our horizon, truly.¡± ¡°Oh, you forsaw it, huh?¡± I asked. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you might mention that? The impending kidnapping didn¡¯t seem important?¡± ¡°I mentioned it before, I believe. I said that making this much money would draw attention. It was only a matter of time before someone tried to cut themselves a slice of our pie.¡± I scoffed. ¡°So they were thieves? Not¡­¡± ¡°Not what, friend?¡± Either Cadoc was egging me on, or he had no idea what I thought had happened. The look on his face was honest, and though I¡¯d met good liars before, I couldn¡¯t help but believe him. I sighed. ¡°Never mind. They said they were hired by someone. And they kidnapped us, to state the obvious. If they were thieves, shouldn¡¯t they have just robbed us and been done with it?¡± ¡°Consider, friend, that they may have been watching us for some time. Perhaps they know that we don¡¯t carry more than a few watches on us at a time, and perhaps they¡¯ve even gained some idea of how we get more. They would want us alive. One of us, at least.¡± ¡°The golden goose,¡± I muttered to myself. ¡°Fuck.¡± I clenched my fists, and unconsciously began to grind my teeth. ¡°I need Tom,¡± I said to myself, muttering. ¡°If I want to be successful. But I can¡¯t just fucking find Tom, oh no, first I have to get money so that my tech billionaire boss doesn¡¯t repossess my fucking life. So I have to waste all this fucking time making enough money to pay the payments before I can even think of finding Tom. Not that I¡¯d even know where to begin looking. ¡°But now, hey, why not?! Let¡¯s add another step. Before you go home, you have to find Tom. Before you find Tom, you have to make money. And before you fucking make any money, you have to figure out how to prevent being robbed, kidnapped, murdered¡­ fuck! What am I supposed to do now, huh? If I train to get stronger, that¡¯s time spent not making money. If I¡¯m making money, that¡¯s time spent not finding Tom. And if I search for Tom, I¡¯ll end up homeless, AND I¡¯ll still probably get killed by some wizard having a bad day. So what then, huh? What the hell am I supposed to do?¡± Cadoc had sat down in a chair on the other side of the room, and it looked like something else was on his mind. Or he was ignoring me, letting me cool off, and something about that idea made me a little angrier, like Cadoc was unphased by me. Maybe he was even falling asleep. It was hard to see in the little light that made it into this upstairs room. But I wasn¡¯t yelling at him, anyway. I don¡¯t know who I was yelling at. Myself. RENA. God. Tom. My anger didn¡¯t subside, but sharpened to a point, and I let it. I dug my remaining fingernails into my palms, fists shaking, and let my anger guide me. It would tell me what to do. ¡°Who hired the kidnappers?¡± I asked at last. It must have been some time later, because Cadoc jumped a little. I think maybe he had nodded off in the chair. ¡°I have no idea,¡± he answered, yawning again. ¡°They mentioned a name, but I didn¡¯t recognize it. It isn¡¯t as if I¡¯ve ever been in Eraztun before, you know. Your guess, well, it isn¡¯t ¡®as good as mine,¡¯ but it¡¯s close.¡± ¡°Could we find him?¡± Cadoc stroked his chin. ¡°I suppose we could. The kidnappers will be looking for us, but they¡¯ve lost the element of surprise. If we spot them first, well, they¡¯ll have to report back eventually.¡± He shook his head, as if finally realizing what I had said. ¡°But why would we do that, Miles?¡± ¡°He had enough money to hire goons, didn¡¯t he? We¡¯re going to take it. If we can¡¯t sell watches anymore without drawing attention to ourselves, then I think it¡¯s time we robbed a house. And there¡¯s no one on this God-forsaken planet I¡¯d rather rob. He¡¯s going to learn what happens when you fuck with someone who has nothing left to lose.¡± Chapter 29 - More Silicone Than Flesh Cadoc agreed to the idea with little convincing. The robbery was, in his eyes, justified, and only natural, now that we were inside the walls. It would be a shame to be lucky enough to make it inside the city, and not take advantage of it. He still couldn''t believe we had made it inside, and by accident, no less. ¡°The strong rule the weak,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°And if he cannot protect his belongings, they are not truly his. We will conquer.¡± He held his sword in one hand, and made as if to slice at an invisible enemy. While righteous fury coursed through my veins, that didn¡¯t make our situation any easier. It didn¡¯t seem safe to just wander the streets, looking for our kidnappers, or asking for a man named Berenguer. They were clearly more experienced than we were, likely outnumbered us, and would be searching for us at that very moment. In other words, we were trapped, and could do little more than peek out an upstairs window and pray that we saw them walking the streets before they looked up. They always say in movies that nobody ever looks up, so I reassured myself and Cadoc with that. Well, I was vague when it came to the movie part. He wouldn¡¯t have understood, of course. Still, it was little more than a waiting game, and there was nowhere to run if we were caught. We shared a small meal together in the upstairs room. We had packed enough sausage for a lunch, but not much more. We hadn¡¯t seen this turn of events coming, and had more provisions stashed at the inn. ¡°If we don¡¯t get back to the inn soon,¡± I asked. ¡°Will they take our stuff?¡± ¡°Certainly.¡± I was happy again to have kept my weapons on hand, even if the mace and backpack weighed me down. I had gained some more muscle since arriving in that world, but it was still very tiring. We decided, again, to sleep in shifts. While it would be hard to see out at night, that was the most likely time to spot our pursuers. During the day, the street was crowded with people - many of whom were comically muscular men carrying bags of grain or salted meat - so while we would look, we didn¡¯t expect to pick them out of the crowd. Either way, we wanted one of us watching at all times. Cadoc slept first, and this time, he actually fell asleep. I didn¡¯t mind volunteering for watch duty that night, as I didn¡¯t feel much like sleeping anyway. I spent the time stewing in my indignation. I pictured the robbery in my mind - we would sneak in the back of some opulent mansion - maybe steal the key from one of the kidnappers, somehow, or learn their secret passcode to gain entry. We would make our way inside, and find ourselves surrounded by valuables, gold and silver and weapons and rare potions. The gold would be enough to pay my debts for awhile, and if there were potions that could make me stronger, or some sort of magic manual¡­ well, then I wouldn¡¯t have to worry about being kidnapped again. And then, why not burn the whole damn place down? It would make me feel better. I wasn¡¯t sure if it had some connection with my magic or not, but I daydreamed a lot about burning things down. Perhaps it¡¯s like what they say about a man with a hammer seeing nothing but nails. Arson seemed more appealing than ever. If I burned down the right buildings, could I even get rid of my debt back on earth? A bank here, a data center there, and voila, no record of any debt. An unrealistic dream. RENA wouldn¡¯t let me home until I paid it all, and it was unlikely magic worked on Earth. Movement caught my attention in the darkness. Half-illuminated by the street lights, I could just barely see¡­ something. Someone. They were leaving an alley further up the street. Then there were two of them - I hadn¡¯t seen where the other had come from. The first shook his head to the other. I shook Cadoc awake, putting my hand over his mouth before he said anything. His eyes were wide. ¡°Look,¡± I whispered, and pointed out the window. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The two figures continued down the street, towards our direction. The streets weren¡¯t empty, even at this time of night. Here and there stood clusters of women. If the men in the daylight had been comically muscular, these women who appeared at night were comically - well, proportioned. It was hard to see them at a distance, under the street lights, but even from our hiding place I could see that they were beautiful. Almost unnaturally beautiful, like a pinup made by an unskilled AI. I couldn¡¯t count how many fingers they had, but I almost expected extras. Actually, the more I looked, the more they looked like one of those women back on Earth who covered herself in so much makeup that it sculpted her face into that of an unblemished stranger. The same kind of woman who wouldn¡¯t decompose when she died because she was more silicone than flesh. The women ran the gamut of looks, and even seemed to me like they shifted whenever I blinked. Just in the time I had turned to wake up Cadoc, I could have sworn one woman had a larger bust than before, and another had gone from black hair to blond. I never caught a change, but it was also hard to focus. Occasionally a man - muscular or otherwise - would approach one, and they would walk off out of sight. The two men we watched did no such thing, though they did often glance at the women. The women called to them, but they didn¡¯t respond. Instead, they stopped and walked through every alley they came across, disappearing from our view only to reappear empty handed. ¡°It has to be our men,¡± Cadoc said. I nodded. That was obvious enough. I didn¡¯t know much about Eraztun, but I doubted shadowy figures like these scoured the streets every night. Then again, why not? The women looked pretty shady, too, I supposed. ¡°So,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°What now? Ambush them? Follow them?¡± I had been thinking about that for awhile - in between arson dreams - and I couldn¡¯t say I had come up with a particularly good answer. ¡°What do you think?¡± I asked. ¡°I think those cowards snuck up on us because they couldn¡¯t handle a real battle. If we cornered them and forced them to fight, they would fall like the Tower of Chandrao when the sun hides its face. The survivor will lead us to his employer.¡± I had no idea what the Tower of Chandrao was, but I understood perfectly what the other part meant. I asked anyway. ¡°The survivor? Are you planning to murder someone?¡± ¡°They lost my sympathy the moment they attacked us. And they forfeited their lives the moment they failed to finish us off. Will I have mercy when the time comes? I cannot say for certain.¡± I must have been particularly angry at the kidnappers just then, because my response wasn¡¯t ¡°we¡¯re not going to kill anyone, you psychopath! These aren¡¯t monsters, these are people!¡± Instead, I stroked my chin, and thought about it. Clearly moral norms were different here. I couldn¡¯t dismiss the idea so quickly. Finally, I shook my head. ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°We can¡¯t kill them. Not unless we have to in self-defense.¡± Cadoc shrugged. ¡°If you have a better plan, I eagerly await hearing it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m just saying I¡¯m not exactly confident in our abilities of lighting fingernails on fire and summoning sticks. You say they¡¯re probably weak, but that¡¯s just a guess. But we ARE weak, that is a fact.¡± Cadoc drew his sword again. He had been doing that at intervals, ever since he had bought the sword. He was like a child with a new toy. He raised it aloft. ¡°I will never-¡° he yelled, before I shushed him, hurriedly checking that no one outside had heard him. ¡°I¡± he continued, whispering, ¡°Will never shy away from a battle of revenge. The monsters that swarmed my homeland will one day taste my blade, and these degenerates who attacked my friend will likewise not be spared. If we do not fight them now, then when?¡± I mused to myself internally. If Cadoc continued to talk like that - nearly guaranteed - I would have no choice but to keep him around until his untimely demise, at the hands of a stronger enemy who he sacrifices himself fighting against. That is a very useful tool to have in your toolbelt - a loyal companion who will die at the drop of a hat. An army of such men could conquer the world. An army of such men without a leader, however, would do what Cadoc proposed then - rush headlong into the abyss. I had no such desire to die. I would be making it out of that strange land, rich, and with Tom. I peered out the window, lost in thought. Cadoc said nothing more, but stood there like a statue of a man. Perhaps he was lost in his own daydream. Perhaps I would never be able to figure out if he was special or not, I thought. Special, but dumb, maybe. I watched the women outside. ¡°I think I have a plan,¡± I said, finally. ¡°It should be safer. Much safer. Do you have any money left? Oh, or the watches. I have a few of those on hand. Yes, that¡¯ll work.¡± - The plan was a disaster. The eastern wing of the mansion was ablaze, and the black smoke snaked between rooms. Gold leaf melted, wallpaper warped and caught alight, and priceless furniture waited to be consumed. The smell was overwhelming, like sticking your face in a bag of charcoal. Although the fire wasn¡¯t directly around us yet, the smoke was too thick to risk standing and suffocating, so Cadoc and I crawled on our bellies like serpents on the warm hardwood floors, as fast as we could manage. I could hear our stolen goods rattling in our packs as we moved, though the noise was more and more drowned out by the sound of fire. I never knew, back on Earth, how loud a real fire could be. The noise filled me with a mix of fear, excitement, dread, and a feeling of power. Power more than anything. I had visions of the fire spreading forever, burning that entire world, burning the very fabric the world was woven from, burning through space, through the divide that separated dimensions, and swallowing my own world, too, in a righteous flame. ¡°I do not mean to question your methods, friend,¡± Cadoc said, clearly about to question my methods, ¡°But why do your plans always end in razing buildings to the ground?¡± His voice brought me back to the present. ¡°Less talking, more escaping!¡± I yelled over the inferno. It was growing closer every second. If we weren¡¯t fast, there would be nothing left of us but ashes and scorched bones. It took a lot of self-control not to reach into my bag and drink a potion at random. Among them, there had to be one that would make me stronger, or faster, or perhaps even immune to fire altogether. But they were unlabeled, and it was just as likely the bottles contained poisons. Cadoc had said there were ways we could identify them, but not in the mansion, not that we found. Not without drinking them, that is, and risking an embarrassing and painful death. Still, burning alive from a fire I had started didn¡¯t seem much more appealing. We occasionally passed windows as we crawled, and it was maddening not to burst through them and run. Or maybe it was just mad. But I knew we would be quickly caught if we tried to escape in that direction. These were the windows that faced the front of the house, where the guards were. We needed to be at the opposite side of the mansion. I saw through them that it was nearly daylight by then, but the meager morning rays were outshone by my fire. A few nights before, we had approached a prostitute. Chapter 30 - The Prostitute The woman was tall, but uncomfortably young looking, considering what Cadoc had told me her profession was. That didn¡¯t last. I made a face of disgust at her, and she must have seen it. She shifted before my eyes as we approached. It looked like paint running, her features becoming less distinct, blending together, and reforming. The rosy cheeks drained color into her reddening lips, the skin around her jaw pulled back, sharpening her face, and her eyes changed from blue to green. As the skin in her face lost the soft look of youth, the skin and fat must have redistributed itself, and her hips widened. She stood taller and with better posture, and a bust developed seemingly from nowhere. It was just as interesting to see what didn¡¯t change. Her hair didn¡¯t lengthen or shorten at all, and her height was exactly the same. ¡°¡¯S¡¯pose you''re into, like, older women then, yeah?¡± she said, her voice clashing with her appearance. But she seemed to notice and cleared her throat, and I thought I could see something moving beneath the skin of her neck. ¡°I¡¯m happy to oblige,¡± she said with a newly matured voice. It was deeply unsettling. ¡°We are not here for such things, woman,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°We have a proposal.¡± ¡°Cost you extra,¡± she said, in a rehearsed tone. I¡¯d seen the technique she had used before, of course, though she didn¡¯t look like a Cho¡¯l. And this was nothing compared to their grotesque transformations. But still, seeing someone change appearances right before your eyes was unsettling. It felt like a bad dream had drifted into the real world. I supposed she was like me, then, technically. A body mage. Despite the nightmarish quality of it all, I had to admit if was probably more useful than lighting fingernails on fire. ¡°Honey, if you keep starin¡¯ at me like that, I¡¯ll hafta start chargin¡¯,¡± the woman said. It seemed like every time she spoke, it was with a different tone of voice, a different accent. Like she was trying them out, one at a time. Cadoc grunted. ¡°Maybe we should try another one.¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± This was the woman furthest away from the others. They were still within eyesight, a shimmering mirage of sirens, but clearly she was unliked, or something. Desperate, we hoped. She also happened to be the furthest away from the two men we were trying very hard not to run into. The walk over had been nerve-wracking, even though we had seen them far in the distance just before leaving our hideout. ¡°How old are you, really?¡± I asked. The woman chuckled. ¡°That¡¯d ruin the fun, now, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± An image came to me. I imagined her going home after a day of work - a night, rather - sinking into bed, and relaxing as her appearance slid back into its original form, revealing a shriveled old woman. I shuddered. ¡°Nevermind. I¡¯ve got a job for you. NOT that job, alright. Another job.¡± She frowned. ¡°I¡¯m not good at much else, honey.¡± She spoke with another voice now, seductive and impossible. Impossible because it sounded like three women saying the same words at the same time, but coming from one mouth. I shook myself. ¡°Nothing to worry about,¡± I said, both to her and myself. ¡°It¡¯s right in your skillset. Natural extension of the business. Easiest job you¡¯ll ever take.¡± ¡°Ah, can¡¯t we do the other thing? Please?¡± She said. She pouted, and her face drooped like it was melting. I¡¯d never seen a face convey more annoyance and pleading in my life. She was good at her job, I guessed. But I wasn¡¯t going to let her stop me. ¡°The job.¡± I said, firmly. ¡°Are you interested, or not? Because I¡¯m not interested in you, lady.¡± Her face changed again. The woman shifted around uncomfortably, eyeing our weapons, no doubt, and, disturbingly, her skin shifted too, bubbling and warping slightly. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I was uncomfortable too, of course. The woman was intimidating in her own way, and I¡¯d certainly never held a conversation with a ¡°woman of the night¡± before. Tom wasn¡¯t that kind of guy. But she was an NPC, I thought, and therefore she was beneath me. I steeled myself. The woman looked off towards her fellow travelers like she was about to call out to them. I took out a watch, and held it before her face. That drew her attention back. Her eyes sparkled, perhaps literally, and she almost grabbed it before I pulled my hand back to my side. ¡°This¡¯ll be the payment. Worth one halfgold, at least. Easy money.¡± Cadoc didn¡¯t know how much these women made in a night, but he guessed it wasn¡¯t much. The look on the woman¡¯s face now told us he was right. She stammered a bit, but finally found the words. ¡°What do I have to do?¡± ¡°Two men are going to come down this street,¡± I explained. ¡°You¡¯ll know it¡¯s them because they¡¯ll be dressed in black, and looking for something. They¡¯ll probably look frustrated.¡± ¡°The cowards deserve worse than being frustrated,¡± Cadoc muttered. The woman started at this. ¡°I¡¯m not killing anyone!¡± she said, eyes wider than should have been possible. ¡°No one is killing anyone,¡± I said, shooting an angry look at Cadoc. ¡°I want you to talk to them.¡± ¡°Talk to them?¡± She repeated incredulously. ¡°Get their attention. I don¡¯t have to spell it out, do I? You¡¯re a smart woman. Do your job. Your normal job. But don¡¯t take them off to some motel, or whatever you normally do.¡± She looked confused at the word motel, I realized, but I continued. ¡°Get one of them - doesn¡¯t matter which, could be both for all I care - get him all worked up about his job. Tell him you love a guy with power, tell him you wish you could get with someone with sway, someone who does clandestine, secretive stuff. Exciting stuff. Say something about how ¡®people think so-and-so has power, but really, it¡¯s the men in the shadows who move the world. The ones who work for the big shots, they¡¯re the real big shots.¡¯ That sort of thing.¡± ¡°I think I get the idea,¡± she replied, but she frowned again. ¡°Are you friends with these men, or what? It¡¯s a weird gift.¡± ¡°Just do it, alright. If you do it right, he¡¯ll take you to where his boss lives, to show it off to you. We¡¯re guessing it¡¯s going to be some great big mansion, and he¡¯ll want to impress you. Make him want to impress you. Maybe he¡¯ll ask you to lay down in the front yard with him. I don¡¯t care. Do it, don¡¯t do it, just have him lead you to the boss¡¯ house. Do that, and meet us back here tomorrow night, at this exact spot. Then you get paid.¡± ¡°Why?¡± she asked. ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern,¡± Cadoc replied. The woman stayed silent for awhile, thinking. ¡°I¡¯m not doing it,¡± she said. ¡°Do you really expect me to follow some stranger in the night, way off from anyone who¡¯d even notice if I¡¯d been murdered or something? Not worth it.¡± I sighed, although I had been prepared for this possibility. ¡°What would make it worth it to you?¡± She just stared. ¡°Two watches, then.¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s a full gold¡¯s worth.¡± ¡°Three.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Fine.¡± I¡¯ll make more from robbing their boss, anyway. ¡°Three watches if you come back here tomorrow night, and can lead us to the house. Deal?¡± ¡°I want one up front.¡± ¡°Not a fucking chance,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯ll never come back.¡± She smiled. ¡°Worth a shot. You¡¯ve got a deal.¡± We shook hands, and her hand squirmed strangely in my grip. She laughed at my reaction. - That part of the plan had worked surprisingly well. The woman - I didn¡¯t bother to ask her name, because who cares, really? - led us right to the place. I would almost have been proud, if I wasn¡¯t so on edge. I was in enemy territory, following a plan I had come up with myself. I couldn¡¯t think of many situations I¡¯d less like to be in. But there was a certain beauty to the estate in the moonlight. Cadoc, the prostitute and I were looking down on a wide lawn, and even in the dark it looked finely manicured. A stately manor with two wings sat atop a hill, overlooking the property. Behind us, the town could be seen, distantly. Before us, nothing but the estate, and, in the distance, the glittering higher levels of the city, stretching up towards the heavens beyond. The manor would look exquisite, when it burned. The fact that this place existed with the walls of Eraztun, and yet felt so secluded, gave the city a sense of scale I hadn¡¯t really comprehended before. It felt more like a walled country than a walled city, and seemed somehow bigger on the inside. Maybe it was. ¡°Well done, my dear lady, well done,¡± Cadoc said. He was giving the woman her watches. ¡°Sell these, and use the money to get yourself a daytime job. You are resourceful and brave enough for it.¡± The woman was different again from when we had seen her before, unlike both her first, too-young appearance, and her second, older one. We hadn¡¯t recognized her when we first met up at the agreed spot. She was rail-thin - sickly looking, like she was malnourished - except for a chubby face and a massive butt. It looked like every ounce of fat in her entire body had ended up there. The look wasn¡¯t even a little bit attractive, but I supposed that was the kidnapper¡¯s taste. I laughed a little at that, inside. But she¡¯d clearly been on edge the entire walk, and had barely spoken a word. I didn¡¯t care one bit about that. As long as she gave me what I wanted, the less she said, the better. I had decided, after all, that she clearly had no spark, and so she deserved no more of my thoughts than what I could use her for. The world - worlds - treated me no better. She swiped the watches when they were offered, as if afraid Cadoc would change his mind, and she immediately made to leave. She muttered angrily, not loudly, but she clearly wanted us to hear. ¡°You assholes didn¡¯t tell me they worked for him.¡± She said. ¡°I deserve more than three halfgold, that¡¯s for damn sure.¡± But she didn¡¯t stay to demand more money. She continued, walking quickly back the way we had come. ¡°Worked for who? Berenguer?¡± I asked. But she had already disappeared from sight. I almost felt like running after her, demanding she tell us what she meant. It sounded like useful information, if this man we were stealing from was politically important, or famous, or infamous. But I decided against it. She knew this area better than I did, and I¡¯d never catch up. And it was too late to go back on the plan, whoever the owner was. I looked at Cadoc, and before I even asked if he knew what the woman meant, he shrugged. ¡°A rich fiend, greedy for more riches. Perhaps we are not the first prizes this Berenguer has kidnapped. Maybe he has a reputation.¡± I turned back around, and Cadoc did as well. We were looking at the mansion again. ¡°Hey Cadoc,¡± I said. ¡°I was wondering. How can you criticize those men for jumping us, and not giving us a fair fight, when we¡¯re about to rob a man blind? It¡¯s not like we¡¯re about to break in so we can challenge him to a duel. Aren¡¯t we doing the same thing?¡± ¡°This is revenge,¡± he answered. ¡°That was unprovoked. They are completely different.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t really see it,¡± I said. ¡°Think of war,¡± he said. ¡°Attacking a civilian from a country you are at peace with, that is cowardice. But once the war is declared, and that civilian takes up arms against you, it is only right to take every means to defeat him. Even more so, if he attacked you first. Ambushing, secrecy, deception - every method you can use. You see the difference now, friend.¡± I nodded. ¡°I suppose I do,¡± I said, with a slight smile. ¡°We are at war, now.¡± Cadoc laughed. ¡°So we are.¡± We began walking. Our battlefield was waiting. Chapter 31 - Magical Tax Evasion As we approached the mansion, we saw that guards had been posted around the exterior of the building. They stood underneath burning oil lanterns affixed to the outer walls, on either side of the front door, clearly illuminated even from a distance. That wasn¡¯t particularly surprising. What WAS surprising was how easily we were able to slip past them. We had expected to need to scope the place out, make a plan, and come back another night. That was before we saw how sparsely guarded the property really was. We spotted only those two guards, and they were both posted on the front side of the house, near the center where the main door was. We waited, but we never saw them move from their posts, nor did we see other guards patrolling the other entrances. While it was possible there were more guards, hidden in the shadows somewhere, and we just didn¡¯t see them, that wasn¡¯t the impression I got. It seemed more like they were short-staffed. With a property as large as this one was, even a dozen guards might not have been enough. Perhaps the others were off searching for us, and the two left behind were the minimum Berenguer felt comfortable with. Still, I can¡¯t say I didn¡¯t hesitate. Cadoc shot me a look, which, even read by moonlight, I knew said that we didn¡¯t need to come back another night. This is our chance, it said. It seemed too easy. But I nodded to Cadoc all the same. This was our chance, and I wasn¡¯t going to let a little irrational fear get in our way. I gripped the antisword where it hung on my belt. It steadied my thoughts. We kept our distance from the guards, and slowly circled around towards the back of the mansion, navigating the finely trimmed hedges and trees. It wasn¡¯t even necessary to go all the way to the back - the structure was so large that even the edge of one wing was not visible from where the guards stood near the front door. We had obviously had no real information about the layout of the property prior to that night, but we had speculated and planned that, if the mansion was laid out in a way that made it possible, it would be best to start from one end, and sweep towards the other. It would then be less likely that we would be cut off from our escape. It was lucky that this two-wing layout enjoyed usage in this dimension as well. We made our way to the right wing noiselessly. Is this Berenguer person not afraid of getting robbed? I thought to myself. Does he have such a menacing reputation that he thinks no one would dare steal from him? But then why have guards at all? Is it arrogance? An oversight? A bad gamble, sending his guards to search for us and hoping no one chooses this night to rob him? I didn¡¯t have an answer. Once again I wished that it was Tom beside me, not Cadoc, even if it would be foolish to talk extensively this deep in enemy territory. I could follow Tom without any words needing to be passed. Cadoc, on the other hand, was much too willing to take my lead, until, suddenly, he wasn¡¯t. Not that I wanted to follow his lead, exactly. It was a lose-lose situation. My unease only grew as we entered the side door. Which was unlocked. I didn¡¯t think anything of this at the time except that it was careless, and Berenguer must have felt safe with his two guards, or his reputation. A rush of cold air leaked out as I cracked the door open, turning the ornate handle in my slightly-trembling hand. I shivered, but it wasn¡¯t a physical cold. I turned and looked Cadoc in the eye. He stared back. I spoke as softly as I could. ¡°I think we should turn back,¡± I whispered. ¡°Something isn¡¯t right here.¡± But Cadoc shook his head. ¡°Calm, friend,¡± he whispered back. ¡°This is our chance for revenge. For power. For wealth. Steel yourself.¡± I sighed. He was right, of course. I had never robbed anyone before in my life, so I was nervous, that was all. We had gotten extremely lucky. While his men - and perhaps even Berenguer himself - were out searching for us, we would be rooting around in his own home. It would be crazy not to continue. Who knows how many guards would be there the next night. But that didn¡¯t make me feel much better. I opened the door the rest of the way, slowly, and the coldness emanated outwards, almost like it had an air conditioner running full blast. Maybe that¡¯s all it was. A magical air conditioner. I stepped over the threshold, and it was like stepping through a blizzard that was only two inches thick. In the blink of an eye the feeling was over, and I was perfectly warm, staring at Cadoc. He shrugged, unperturbed, and shut the door behind us. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. We were staring down a wide, long hallway. A flowery wallpaper covered the walls, and expensive-looking statues and vases lined the edges. The statues depicted the likeness of nightmarish monsters I hoped didn¡¯t truly exist, while the vases depicted scenes I couldn¡¯t quite interpret, though it felt wrong to look at them. Doors were set in the walls on either side, and almost all of them were closed. Almost, because one door, just to the right of us, was wide open, though I couldn¡¯t see through it from this angle. Cadoc made for this door without a word, and I hurried to follow him. There were two modes of thought, in my mind, for how to approach this. One would be to check out the open door first, because that was both the place we could enter the most quietly, and because, likewise, it was where someone could most stealthily sneak up on us, if we passed it by. On the other hand, it was also the most likely place for Berenguer to be, if he was awake. No chance of arguing just then, however. I had to keep up with Cadoc, and yelling after him was much worse than the alternatives. Without any knowledge of the mansion¡¯s layout, there was no way for us to know where we should be looking, or even what direction we should head in. It would be nothing but guesses. But if we could find even one room of valuables, I would be happy. Even the vases in the hall would probably fetch a decent price, but I didn¡¯t want to haul those out. Or pay RENA the transportation cost for something so heavy. The first room was a library. Great wooden shelves towered over us, reaching up to a ceiling which was easily three or four times higher than the ceiling of the hallway. It made me do a double-take, as I had not spotted a tower before, and the building hadn¡¯t seemed so tall from the outside. Then again, it was the middle of the night. It wasn¡¯t impossible I had misjudged it. Cadoc didn¡¯t seem bothered. He was grinning from ear to ear, eyes tracing the lines of the shelves as they rose, all of them lined with countless books. Besides the shelves and the books, the room was empty. I couldn¡¯t see a source of light, but the room was bathed in something like moonlight, but brighter, so it was easy enough to see. Another door stood opposite the one we had entered. This one was closed. Wordlessly, Cadoc began taking books off the shelves at random, flipping through them, a look of amazement still on his face. This was a treasure of sorts, for sure. If we could find a book on magic, it could jumpstart our abilities, and Cadoc had assured me earlier that there were few places men like us - losers, that is - could buy them. I approached a shelf. If there was a system to the library, I couldn¡¯t see it. The spines were unlabeled, as were the covers. I picked a book at random - a dark, leather-bound tome - and opened it to the first page. ¡°Secrets of Herb Growing for the Thrifty Alchemist.¡± I shook my head. I¡¯m sure it was interesting, but it wasn¡¯t for me. I closed it hurriedly. The next book I picked up, from same shelf, was much the same. ¡°Alchemical Reagents: A Cautionary Tale.¡± I closed this one just as quickly. Thinking that they must be grouped together in some way, I made for a different shelf. This time, I took a slim volume, bound in a purple-dyed animal skin. ¡°Illusions for the Purpose of Hiding Your Assets: The Handbook that Tax Collectors Don¡¯t Want You to Read.¡± This one I lingered on, chuckling to myself internally. I very nearly started to read, but shook my head, finally. I didn¡¯t have time to stop and read. ¡°Definitely not what I¡¯m looking for,¡± I muttered to myself. I stole a glance at Cadoc. I could see that he had already stored a book or two in his pack. Either he was having better luck that I was, or he was planning to take up gardening and tax evasion. Hopefully he found something useful, because I was already getting fed up. We could spend all night here and come out empty-handed. It would probably be a better use of our time to search further, look for weapons, or potions, or other treasures that were just as likely as books to give us power, for less of a time investment. Even more than that, I needed money, not power. I didn¡¯t think I could sell a book on magical tax evasion back on Earth. Before I closed this book too, a bit of movement caught my attention. I turned my gaze back to the open page. I stood staring, gawking, as the page rewrote itself. It was as if a ghostly figure was writing it out in long, flowing letters. What are you looking for? it said. I dropped the book in surprise, and the thud was like an explosion in that silent room. At just that instant, the light, which seemed to come from nowhere, disappeared, and I could see nothing but the most complete darkness. ¡°Shit,¡± I said under my breath, and just as quickly, the light returned. Except that when I could see again, it was not a library I was standing in. The floors and walls were tiled in multi-colored tiles, formed into the design of strange mosaics that looked like writing. Steam filled the air, and off to one side, I saw where the floor led down into a massive pool of water, like a lake. To the opposite side, closer to where I stood, was a door, which was open. Inside was a room no bigger than a closet, with a hole in the ground. A toilet. I was in a large bathroom. Or bathhouse. Something like that. And there was another door, closed, just beside me. Cadoc was nowhere to be seen. Confused and panicked, I opened the closed door. To my shock - and pleasant surprise - opening it revealed the library again. I entered, coming from a door off to one side, which I hadn¡¯t seen before. Cadoc had his sword drawn, and turned to me with wild eyes as I stepped in. ¡°What just happened?¡± He asked, sheathing his sword again when he realized it was me. I shook my head. I had no idea what to say, beside the obvious. Magic. I walked back to where I was standing before, where the books still lay on the floor where I had dropped it. I picked it up. Cadoc came closer, eager to see. The book had returned to normal. ¡°This is not what I am looking for,¡± I whispered, and once again the writing began. Cadoc¡¯s eyes widened. What are you looking for? The book asked again. ¡°A map,¡± I whispered. For a moment, it seemed like nothing was happening. I wondered if I needed to drop it again - though I really didn¡¯t want to. Even the noise I had already made had me on edge, wondering if a guard - or Berenguer himself - was about to walk in on us. I suddenly had the realization that a smarter man would have had much sooner - what if there were more guards, and they were all inside the house? Desperate not to make any more noise, I tried turning to the next page. Sure enough, instead of instructions of how to trick the tax man, a two-page blueprint of the mansion was being drawn out in great detail. There was even a little circle in a square room on the right-hand side, labeled with one word. Intruders. I quickly looked at some of the other labels. Armory. Potion storage. And another little circle, clear on the opposite side of the mansion. Berenguer. I turned to Cadoc, certain that a manic smile was threatening to split my face in half. ¡°Now we¡¯re in business.¡± Chapter 32 - Robbery, Arson, and Other Crimes I¡¯d never really been a thief before. I mean, sure, I¡¯d stolen all kinds of things from Tom in the past - hair, pictures, passwords, old clothes - but never anything he would have missed. That¡¯s not real thievery. Now that Cadoc and I were plundering the manor, loading our packs with our spoils, I realized that I had been missing out. Robbery is a damn good time. Cadoc was laughing heartily, and the noise filled the room. ¡°I knew joining up with you was the right decision, friend,¡± he said. He was mock-cheering with a golden goblet he had found in a chest. Then he closed one eye, examined the goblet, turned it over in his hands, and then stashed it in his pack. Meanwhile, I was grabbing handfuls of silver coins, and my laughter joined his. ¡°I am going to be fucking rich!¡± I thought of all the people I would brag to when I got home, with not just my debt paid off, but as a newly minted millionaire. ¡°I¡¯ll make them lick my fucking boots to get a piece of this, and I¡¯ll dangle the money in front of them and make them beg, and give them nothing!¡± It felt so good. Part of me knew this probably wouldn¡¯t be enough to actually pay all my debts, but I let myself fall into the fantasy. I needed it. Deserved it. Times had been tough. And this was going so well. Sure, we were being a little noisy. But we had the map. We watched as it updated our location like a GPS, and watched especially the little ¡°Berenguer¡± circle, which sat unmoving in a bedroom on the other end of the mansion. What did we have to fear? The map showed us that there was no one else in the house, and the owner was clearly out cold, and far enough away that even our boisterous celebrations wouldn¡¯t reach him, so long as we kept our distance. It felt good to win, for once. It wasn¡¯t long before our bags were full, and we could carry no more. We had decided we would divide up the loot later - after all, it was pretty unevenly distributed just then. Cadoc had grabbed at least a couple of books, for instance, while I had grabbed none. On the other hand, I was certain I had more things that we could sell in my pack. We would figure out how we wanted to split it all. But I didn¡¯t let our good fortune spoil my desire for revenge. As we went looting from room to room, I made sure to plant fingernails in choice locations - among a dusty pile of parchment, or dropped into potions that I hoped were flammable. Not all of the nails would catch, in all likelihood, but enough would. It seemed a shame to burn down the mansion with so much left to steal, but we weren¡¯t about to press our luck and come back for round two. So when it came time to leave, my veins were filled with the blood of a joyous man. ¡°Hey Cadoc,¡± I said. We were walking back from near the center of the mansion, just to the side of the great entrance space, where the front door was. That was where we had stopped. We hadn¡¯t dared move past that spot - pressing further into the mansion would have meant drawing nearer to our involuntary benefactor. ¡°What is it?¡± Cadoc asked. The mansion was not always the most straightforward place to navigate - rooms being attached oddly to other, unrelated rooms, such that you could only reach the potion brewing chamber by first passing through the kitchen - but we could see on the map that, from where we were, the way out was a straight shot, down the hallway and through a couple of intersecting rooms. We talked while walking, as relaxed as two robbers could be. ¡°Do you think Berenguer will come after us?¡± I asked. We passed the scowling faces of angry statues, as if the furniture itself already wished us dead, and was trying to answer my question using their facial expressions. ¡°He was already searching for us.¡± Cadoc replied. ¡°What would change?¡± I thought about that as we walked. ¡°Good point,¡± I said. We were already at our exit. We stood before the door we had entered in. I could taste the final victory on my lips. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. I had been sure to place many fingernails along the outer edges of the mansion, where they would hopefully burn and attract attention quickly. This might not have mattered if we were content to burn the building from a distance, but we wanted to ensure that our exit was as easy as our entrance. What better way than to busy the guards with the important work of fire fighting? ¡°Besides,¡± Cadoc continued. ¡°How will he even know it was us?¡± I frowned. Part of me wanted him to know. But I supposed that was asking for too much. ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°You ready for the fire?¡± Cadoc nodded. Lighting my nails was as easy as thinking - even lighting multiple nails would happen as fast as I could think about one, then the next, then the next. All the same, I wanted to revel in it. So, when it was time to light, I snapped my fingers. I could feel the mana draining from me, but that wasn¡¯t what drew my attention the most. The ground trembled as a distant explosion rocked the mansion. The noise was deafening. I was looking back down the hallway we had just come down, but I couldn¡¯t see any fire from where we stood. I could only assume that I had dropped a nail into the right potion. When the initial shock subsided, I smiled. ¡°Mission accomplished,¡± I said. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be great if he burned up in his sleep?¡± No time to gloat any further. All that was left was to walk off the grounds, and maybe steal a few glances back at the opulent burning corpse. I turned the handle of the side door, opened it, and felt again a rush of air that chilled my bones. I saw the darkness outside, and it enticed me with the promise of silent and unseen escape. We walked through. And as we stepped through the threshold, the chill ran through me again, and before I even had a chance to think twice, the manicured lawns disappeared from my view. And were replaced with fire. My eyes darted around, panicked and confused, trying to figure out what had just happened. It felt like what had happened before, with the baths. Cadoc was beside me, equally confused. My heart sank. We were still in the mansion. I recognized the room. This was a little study, with an elegant little desk beside one wall. The wall with a door in it that, if I remembered correctly, had led to the storage closet, full of blank scrolls and ink bottles. Both the desk and the wall were ablaze. Of course they were. I had left the nails in that closet myself. I saw black smoke creeping out from beneath the closet door, I pulled out the map-book again in a panic. Sure enough, we weren¡¯t at the side door. We were nowhere near it. Somehow, that wasn¡¯t the most concerning thing I saw. Two things had it beat. One was the little circle of Berenguer. Or, should I say, the lack of that little circle. I scanned the map - quickly, as we need to leave that room ASAP - but I couldn¡¯t find the circle anywhere. Did he leave? How? While this disappearing circle was worrying, the other, perhaps even more concerning thing was what was added. A new circle, this one labeled simply ¡°monster.¡± It was just in front of the exit, where we had been a second before. ¡°What happened?!¡± Cadoc yelled. ¡°I have no idea!¡± I yelled back, though grim thoughts were beginning to dampen my good spirits, as I imagined what this might mean. ¡°Is it Berenguer?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll figure that out later!¡± I said. ¡°Right now, we need to get out of here. And look!¡± I brought the map up before his face, pointing at the new circle, as I simultaneously made my way out of the study, through the door opposite the burning wall. I was already starting to sweat in the heat. And because Cadoc was a psychopath, he smiled back at me, and even as I walked past him and into the next room, I could hear his laughter following close behind. ¡°It¡¯s never easy, is it?¡± he called from behind. The next room was a spare bedroom, thankfully spared from the fires, thus far. I took a moment to consult the map and make a plan of escape, quickly. ¡°I suppose we¡¯ll need to be ready for battle,¡± Cadoc said, hand on sword. ¡°Shut up, Cadoc. I¡¯m trying to think.¡± I tried to spot another way out of this death trap. The front door would involve getting through the guards, while the side door held a monster, apparently. The left wing of the mansion seemed abandoned now, but I knew where I had placed the nails well enough to know the way there would be burning and impassable. I couldn¡¯t see any other way out. I was sweating from the panic now. ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± I yelled, realizing something. ¡°We¡¯ll make our way to a window. We can bust through. The noise won¡¯t attract much attention in this chaos.¡± ¡°Won¡¯t the guards see us?¡± Cadoc asked. I suspected he might poke holes in any plan I came up with that didn¡¯t involve killing the monster, now that the specter of violence was on the table. Or maybe I heard a little bit of hope in his voice, like he wanted to fight the guards. ¡°We¡¯ll go out a back window,¡± I said. ¡°One that overlooks the back garden. No guards back there.¡± ¡°That we saw,¡± Cadoc finished. I ignored him. The way was clear now. I ran through the next door, into a massive dining room, with one of those huge wooden tables that kings in movies would feast on, and a high-backed chair twenty feet tall. Cadoc followed. Next, through another door, into a library. The library. Dread. I checked the map. We were adjacent to the monster. Did I turn the wrong way? I doubted it. I ran through the door to the baths. Beyond it, another door, and beyond it, another. The fires raged around us as we ran, growing and growing until nearly every room we entered was sweltering hot. Sometimes we would have to change course, avoiding a room that was engulfed in flames, but we continued onwards. Eventually, coughing, we were forced to the ground, and beat our retreat on our stomaches. - We entered another doorway, which led into a hallway. There shouldn¡¯t have been a hallway there. I looked at the map, and saw that we had moved again. ¡°Fuck!¡± I yelled. But I calmed myself quickly. This was actually good luck. We seemed to get transported when we walked through a door. This hallway led front to back, rather than left to right. We could make our way to the back of the building from here, and not have to go through any more doors. There would be a big window at the end, I remembered. It also seemed that the fires hadn¡¯t reached here yet, and we were able to get back on our feet. Finally, I thought. A lucky break. We ran down the hallway, and occasionally I felt a chill, a strange sensation in that ever-warming house. Then, coming into view in the distance, I saw it, and I groaned. It wasn¡¯t a window. It was the monster. I checked the map. Sure enough, we had moved again, and without even opening a single door. Somewhere along the way, we had switched hallways, and we now faced the monster, guarding our original entrance. I turned to run the other way. But there was nothing there. No hallway, no door, nothing. Just a wall. I looked at the map, as if that would help, and saw that desperate reality reflected there, too. The rest of the hallway had simply vanished. I felt like, at any moment, I would break down and start crying. Cadoc, however, was laughing again. Chapter 33 - The Monster Cadoc was walking towards the monster, sword drawn in an instant, before I had even finished lamenting. The monster stood at least ten feet tall. It was clearly, I thought, a construct of Berenguer¡¯s, made to defend his home. Why it had taken so long to appear, I still had no idea. It was a massive rock shaped like a man, made of what looked to be hardened clay, but not quite. It had no eyes, no nostrils, and no mouth. That is how I knew it must have been made and controlled by magic. It apparently didn¡¯t need to see, to breath, and certainly not to speak. It didn¡¯t hold a weapon of any kind, nor was it clothed. But it was clear it wouldn¡¯t need a weapon. Its fists were like boulders, curled into rock-hard bludgeons at its sides. If there was an obvious weak point of the monster, I didn¡¯t see it. I saw the face of a cliff, a moving mountain. I saw our impending deaths. Cadoc was still laughing. I looked around desperately for another way out, but I already knew it was hopeless. The walls were all featureless, having smoothed out when I wasn¡¯t looking, smooth like the unmarked face of this new enemy. The only door was behind the monster. ¡°It was a pleasure traveling with you, Miles,¡± Cadoc said, loud enough to project through the hallway. The hallway which had, at some point, widened, so that we now stood in a large arena of a room, empty. The only point of interest were the segments of walls that glowed red with heat, and other spots where the flames had begun to encroach, licking at the edges of our coffin. The monster simply stood as Cadoc approached. Part of me almost dared to believe it was mindless, a statue. But then a fist swung out. Cadoc tried to block with his sword, but was unable. The hit took him square in the stomach, and he was launched backwards as if out of a cannon, landing with a sickening sound against the outer wall. In a moment, my despair became anger. My blood ran hot, and I drew the antisword from my side. I had my mace, but I needed speed. I couldn¡¯t compete with this monster in raw strength. I took my backpack off, and set it beside me. I gripped my weapon harder until my knuckles turned white. ¡°I¡¯m done,¡± I said to the monster. To Berenguer, if he was listening, which I suspected he was. And to the world. ¡°I¡¯m absolutely done. ¡°I refuse to accept that I die here. Tom wouldn¡¯t die here, and who the fuck do you think I am? Did I not do my hair just right, today? Did I not smile enough?¡± I pointed the end of the antisword at the monster, which stood dumbly across the room. ¡°Tell me. Tell me what I did wrong. Tell me what little fucking detail I messed up, what gives you the right to attack me here.¡± The monster didn¡¯t say anything. It just waited. It didn¡¯t even have ears. ¡°That¡¯s what I thought. You aren¡¯t playing by the rules!¡± I yelled. ¡°This isn¡¯t the way it works. ¡°If I¡¯m taking a test,¡± I said. ¡°And I see a smart man put down ¡°C¡± as the answer, then if I put down ¡°C,¡± too, we both get the answer right.¡± I was talking to a giant rock, but I didn¡¯t care. It stood there as if waiting for me to finish, though of course I knew it was only waiting for me to approach so that it could knock me out. It¡¯s job was to guard the exit - it wouldn¡¯t walk away from it and risk letting one of us sneak through. I saw movement where Cadoc lay, so at least he was alive. He was even starting to get up, slowly, dazed. The blow must not have been as bad as it had looked. ¡°That¡¯s the way this is supposed to work,¡± I said. ¡°I do what successful people do, or would do, and then I succeed. That¡¯s how this is supposed to work! ¡°Instead, I do every little fucking thing right, every little thing, and what? If Tom gets into a boxing ring, he wins. If I train exactly the same as he does, and get into the same ring, against the same opponent, I lose. Why? Confidence? Genetics? Luck? What could I possibly be doing wrong?!¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I shook my head. ¡°So I¡¯m done. I¡¯m done letting you fucking people break the rules. I¡¯m going to do what Tom would do, and then I¡¯m going to win. And if you break the rules again, and you don¡¯t let me win, like I deserve, I don¡¯t fucking care anymore. I¡¯m going to win. ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking,¡± I continued. ¡°I¡¯ll knock this dude out. Who cares about the rules? When he¡¯s on the ground, a pile of broken bones, what¡¯s he going to do about it? ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what I¡¯m going to do about it: I¡¯m going to fucking kill you. That¡¯s what has changed here. ¡°Before, if I lost where Tom had won, I would doubt myself. I would wonder where I went wrong, what little thing I missed. I¡¯m done doing that. I am Tom! I didn¡¯t fucking miss anything. So if I lose a fight in the ring that I should have won, then I don¡¯t go home sulking, not any more. I go to the other guy. I follow him home. I slash his tires. I steal his wallet. I hide rotten fish in his walls, drop laxatives into his protein shake, fill his shampoo bottles with gasoline. ¡°And then, we fight again. And again. And again. Until he realizes his fucking place. Until he realizes that he is an NPC, and he has no fucking right to win against me.¡± Suddenly, I had a better idea, as if I had told the universe I was going to win, and it relented, and told me exactly how I could do it. I squatted down, sticking my hand into my backpack, and pulled out a potion at random. I sheathed my antisword again, and pulled out another potion. ¡°And you,¡± I said, while uncorking the potions. ¡°You are not even a human being. You are a brainless, sparkless, worthless machine.¡± I dropped nails into both of the potions. ¡°And that means I win.¡± I looked to Cadoc. In the time I was talking, he had gotten to his feet, sword in hand again. He looked to me, and nodded. We both took off. We came at the monster from both flanks, like a pincer. Cadoc came first, and the monster turned to strike him again. But the monster¡¯s movements were slow and predictable, and Cadoc knew what to do, this time. He sidestepped the fist, letting it crash down beside him. I saw that he winced when he did so, though, one hand holding his side. He must have broken a rib, I thought, but was pushing through it. He was too slow to follow up the dodge with an attack. He scrambled to get out of the way. But that didn¡¯t matter. He had distracted it. I threw a potion at the face of the monster. Then I threw the other immediately after, before the first had even shattered. I lit them both with my nails, pulling that invisible string. The first one did nothing, but the second one exploded into flames. The fire stuck to the monster like napalm, and the creature reeled, silently contorting, unable to scream. The monster stumbled, holding its head, trying to smother the flames with its hands as its blank face slowly melted. ¡°The sticks!¡± I yelled. Cadoc understood. He held out his hands and summoned sticks, with rounded edges, below the feet of the giant. It worked. The giant stepped on a few, and they rolled out from underneath it. The monster lost its footing, slipped, and crashed to the ground. The impact shook the mansion like an earthquake. Both of our tricks were old, techniques we had used once before. Why mess with what works? But this was the first time we had used them together, like a team. Despite the danger, Cadoc took a moment to shoot a glance at me, smile, and give me a thumbs up. But I was already moving. Turns out I didn¡¯t need the antisword at all. I took the mace from my back while running to the downed enemy. It tried to stand back up, but its face still burned. Cadoc was stabbing it, as well, his sword piercing the thing¡¯s head like soft, wet clay. The monster flailed wildly, but didn¡¯t die. A sword wasn¡¯t the right weapon for the job. I swung the mace down, screaming, on the monster¡¯s head. The head caved in with a sound like punching meat. I swung again. And again. And again. Bits of rock splattered out with each blow. Cadoc stood aside. There was no need for him, anymore. Not in that battle. I continued to pound the monster¡¯s head, to pulp its skull until it was nothing but an unrecognizable pancake of hot earth. Even then, I kept swinging. ¡°I win!¡± I yelled at the lifeless rock. ¡°Do you understand? Do you get it? I. WIN.¡± Eventually - I couldn¡¯t tell you how long - I stopped, exhausted. I fell to my knees, breathing heavy and sweating. The room was quiet now, the only noise the flickering of flames at the walls. But the fire hadn¡¯t spread, for whatever reason, like it was being held back. Cadoc walked over to me, and put a hand on my shoulder. I could see it hurt him to move around, though he was still much better off than I would have expected. His leather armor was visibly beaten and bruised, so I couldn¡¯t imagine what his body must have looked like, underneath. ¡°Well done,¡± he said. ¡°I really didn¡¯t think we were getting out of that one.¡± I smiled back at him. ¡°You always think we¡¯re going to die.¡± ¡°Can you blame me, friend?¡± he replied. ¡°All the same, well done.¡± A sudden noise echoed in the room. And then another. Like the sound of someone clapping. It was someone clapping. ¡°Well done, indeed,¡± a voice said. The voice seemed to come from everywhere, from every direction. ¡°I am impressed by you little thieves, truly. I haven¡¯t had such a show in ages.¡± A man appeared out of thin air. He was walking towards us, clapping. He was tall and imposing, built like a soldier, but wore loose robes of purple and black which seemed to move on their own. He had a goatee, and short hair. He looked like a security guard who went as a wizard for Halloween. But I couldn¡¯t help but take him seriously. He exuded a sense of power, and I had just seen him appear out of nowhere. ¡°Berenguer,¡± I said under my breath. ¡°So you know me?¡± he said, laughing. ¡°That makes things easier, doesn¡¯t it? No need for long introductions. I am Berenguer, and you are Rat A, and Rat B. I¡¯ve been looking for you. It¡¯s a pleasure, I¡¯m sure.¡± Cadoc and I simply stared, though Cadoc gripped his sword tightly, and I knew he was waiting for an opportunity to strike. ¡°I have to hand it to you,¡± Berenguer continued. ¡°I really did not see this one coming. I knew I would catch you eventually, but I really, truly, did not expect you to walk right into my home and try to rob me. It is perhaps the most foolish plan I have ever heard of, and yet, so admirably brave in its own right, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± I couldn¡¯t wait any longer. It would be best to attack during his monologue, while he was still off guard. I ran at him, drawing my antisword in one swift motion. Cadoc ran as well. Then Berenguer disappeared. Simply vanished. The voice of Berenguer came from everywhere again. Cadoc and I looked all around, but couldn¡¯t see him. He made a tutting noise. ¡°Tch. A little violent, aren¡¯t we? ¡°No matter. Let us end this charade, yes? We have business to discuss.¡± The moment the last word was spoken, the room darkened to pitch blackness. Then, only a moment later, light returned, but we were somewhere completely different, though my backpack still lay beside me. It was a cell. Chapter 34 - I Win Cadoc had quickly drawn up his armor, looking at the spot where he had been hit. He stared at himself in awe. Instead of looking bruised and beaten, he looked completely uninjured. With a feeling of dread, I started to suspect what had happened, and I took a look inside my pack. Sure enough, inside it were the two potions I had thrown at Berenguer¡¯s monster, along with everything else I had swiped. As if the fight had never happened. I felt a pit in my stomach. We were in a room made of stone blocks. There was no window, and only one door out. We were surrounded on 3 sides by stone, and a wall of bars separated us from the exit. Berenguer stood on the other side of the bars, laughing. ¡°Have you figured it out yet?¡± he asked. Unfortunately, I believed I was putting it together, but didn¡¯t say anything. ¡°No?¡± he said. ¡°Not the smartest robbers, are we? Tenacious, and I can appreciate that, but not intelligent, aye? Let me demonstrate.¡± He held out a hand, robes rippling like a disturbed pool as he moved. I felt heat behind me, and turned. Suddenly the wall behind us was engulfed in flames. I begun to sweat immediately, and choked on the smoke which quickly filled the air. Instinctively, I backed away, and Cadoc and I were soon standing with our backs against the bars, pressed as far away from the fire as we could. Then, it was gone. The fire just disappeared, with no remaining evidence that it had ever existed. The walls were unmarked - no soot, no scorch marks, no remnant of smoke in the air. We turned back to face our captor. ¡°See?¡± he asked. ¡°Surely you get it now. If you still don¡¯t understand, I¡¯m afraid you aren¡¯t worth anything to me, after all. Well, mostly. Maybe I¡¯m exaggerating. I can always use a couple of warm bodies.¡± ¡°An illusion,¡± Cadoc answered. He still sounded dazed. ¡°Correct!¡± Berenguer replied. ¡°Are you the smarter of the two, then? Or just the talkative one? No, no, that can¡¯t be right. Your friend gave quite a speech earlier, didn¡¯t he?¡± So he had heard that. I would have been embarrassed, if I wasn¡¯t still filled with lingering rage. The anger started to build again, as our situation solidified in my mind. ¡°Let¡¯s not leave your friend out of the loop.¡± Berenguer continued. ¡°The dashing heist you both just pulled, it was a lie. A ruse. Did you really think it was so easy to rob a mage of my power? You thought I would have no defenses? ¡°I knew you two were sneaking around the moment you entered. Lucky for you, I decided to play a little game. I could have simply killed you, shown you an image of guards to scare you off, anything. But this was so much more fun. ¡°And despite your little speech, rat, you do not win. I win. You trusted my little map, and I let you waltz around my home, picking up my belongings, and I let you believe you were lighting fires along the way, while I put them out. Why would you do that, I wonder? What did I ever do to you?¡± He laughed. ¡°No matter. I am not one to hold a grudge. I will be taking back my belongings, and then we will discuss your little business, hmm? Those watches are very interesting. And you have proven that you may be useful to me in others ways, perhaps.¡± He shook his head. ¡°If only you weren¡¯t so weak. Oh well. We¡¯ll make do.¡± While a feeling of futility threatened to reduce me to tears, my anger burned, keeping the black dog of depression at bay. With rage in my heart, I wanted nothing more than to humiliate this man. I had no thoughts of escape, only of winning, of eking out whatever small victory I could. It seemed hopeless. Berenguer was obviously more powerful than the both of us, and we were at his mercy. But his mention of the watches made me realize something. He may have seen us all along, watched us and misled us, put out my fires and conjured the image of a monster - which I still couldn¡¯t believe was a fake. He may have done all these things, and played us like a damned fiddle. But, I did have one trick up my sleeve. One thing he wouldn¡¯t know about. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. I looked to Cadoc, and spoke aloud. ¡°Fair¡¯s fair,¡± I said, as amicably as I could manage. I doubt I was very convincing. ¡°To the winner goes the spoils. Cadoc, hand me your backpack. We have no choice but to give him back his stuff. RENA help us, maybe he won¡¯t kill us.¡± Cadoc¡¯s eyes lit up. He wanted to fight, clearly, with one hand still on his sword, but when I had said RENA, he had reacted. He smiled faintly, and handed me his backpack. I picked my own off the ground, and turned back towards Berenguer. He was stroking his chin, thinking. ¡°Rena, Rena, Rena. Who is Rena? I find it hard to believe you worship a god I have never heard of.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve never heard of her?¡± I asked, smirking. ¡°That is very strange. I would think a powerful magic user like yourself would be more knowledgeable. It¡¯s even more strange, since I believe her awareness is on us even now, in this very room. Can¡¯t you feel her presence?¡± A voice echoed in my ears. ¡°Are you attempting to contact me secretly, Miles? I am listening.¡± Berenguer frowned. ¡°What is this game, fool?¡± I shrugged. ¡°I am only answering your question. RENA is my goddess, and I had meant to offer her the things we had stolen from you. I thought I would return to her altar at a later time, and then send the items back over. Would that have been acceptable to her? I don¡¯t know.¡± The voice in my head, again. ¡°I am suspecting, Miles, that you are speaking in code. You are not very good at it, but I believe I understand what you are asking. The answer is yes to the first part, and maybe to the second. I will need to get approval.¡± Good enough, I thought. Berenguer¡¯s eyebrows furrowed together. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°As I said, I am only answering your question. RENA is the goddess of spite and petty revenge.¡± I held up the packs, triumphantly. ¡°And in her name, I offer up these stolen goods.¡± The two packs immediately drained of color, and Berenguer¡¯s eyes widened. He could do nothing but watch as the packs flickered like static, then vanished. I knew I was wearing the most shit-eating grin of all time. A more infuriating smile than even Tom¡¯s was. And I couldn¡¯t help but rub salt in the wounds, even if it killed me. ¡°I. Win.¡± Cadoc broke out in laughter. RENA¡¯s voice returned. ¡°I have received the shipment. I will seek approval to send these items back when requested. On another note, if I was able to feel offended, Miles, I would take great offense to being labeled the ¡®goddess of spite and petty revenge.¡¯ I would much prefer to be the goddess of love, or beauty. Hypothetically.¡± Now I was laughing. Not because of RENA¡¯s ramblings. Because it had worked. Berenguer was fuming. ¡°This is funny, is it? Where did it go? Tell me!¡± Cadoc was the one who answered, in between laughs. ¡°To his goddess, of course. Think you can take it back?¡± The room disappeared again. My brain struggled to keep up. This time, we were outside. A great bonfire was raging, and Cadoc and I were above it, hands and feet bound, and ropes around our torsos, back to back, suspended on a pole over the fire like two roasting pigs. ¡°Tell me where my belongings are,¡± Berenguer¡¯s voice boomed. We were surrounded by woods, and sleeping birds awoke and flew off, startled by the noise. ¡°We know you are an illusionist now!¡± Cadoc yelled. ¡°You cannot threaten us with phantoms!¡± Berenguer answered calmly. ¡°You underestimate the power of the mind.¡± Berenguer gestured at the fire, and it rose like he had just poured gasoline on it. I felt the flames lick at me, and I screamed. I¡¯m burning! The feeling was impossible to pass off as an illusion. It was an excruciating pain, and I felt as my flesh sizzled and cooked. I struggled against my bindings, desperate to free myself, even though I would have only fallen into the fire. It was impossible to think straight. I was on the verge of passing out. I felt my body try to shut down in response to the pain. Then the flame subsided. The burn should have continued hurting, but the sensation was gone. It was like flicking a light switch. ¡°I will ask again,¡± Berenguer said. ¡°Where are my belongings?¡± ¡°I¡¯m telling you the truth!¡± I yelled. ¡°I offered them to RENA! I¡¯m sorry! Please, have mercy! There¡¯s nothing I can do!¡± ¡°He¡¯s telling the truth!¡± Cadoc joined. ¡°I¡¯ve seen him do it before! His goddess takes his offerings.¡± In a blink, we were back in the cell. I ran my newly-freed hands over my body in a panic, checking for burns. Of course, there were none. I let out a breath of relief. Berenguer was pacing outside the cell, back and forth. ¡°They didn¡¯t steal anything too valuable,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°But the humiliation! I ought to kill them. I ought to torture them until they wish they were dead. ¡°But alas! What a waste that would be. Providence has provided me with what I need, and will I throw it away for revenge? But then, will I let myself be slighted?¡± Berenguer shook his head, and then turned to us. He took a few deep breaths before speaking, clearly trying to calm himself. ¡°You two are fools, and I will get my revenge,¡± he said. ¡°But perhaps I will overlook this transgression, if you can pay back what you have stolen. ¡°The watches. Where do you get them?¡± ¡°RENA,¡± I said. I decided to be honest, and not risk being roasted again. ¡°Truly?¡± Berenguer responded. He stroked his chin again. ¡°Summon one now.¡± ¡°I cannot,¡± I lied. That didn¡¯t last long. Maybe it was only a half-lie. I wasn¡¯t sure if RENA would give me one, just then, considering the massive transportation cost I was going to pay later, when I got those items back. Berenguer¡¯s eyes went cold again. ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°I apologize, honorable wizard,¡± Berenguer frowned at this, but I continued. ¡°I cannot control the whims of a goddess. She smiles on me with her favor according to her own designs.¡± Berenguer frowned again, and the frown was deeper each time it appeared. ¡°You do not seem to be lying,¡± he said, and I almost smiled. The trick to being a good liar is to believe the lie. As a master of delusion, and a master of pretending to be what I wasn¡¯t, lying came naturally to me. ¡°Plan B, then,¡± Berenguer said. ¡°First, ¡° he continued. ¡°This affront cannot stand. You will be brought before the guards. At my command they would cut off both of your hands, your feet, your tongue, your member, your nose, your ears. Then, they would flay your skin, using healing potions to keep you just barely alive. They would leave your eyes, so that you could see. Then, they would burn you. Slowly.¡± I gulped. ¡°But I have a better use for you, alive. You will receive punishment, and publicly. But I will call on the guard for mercy. And they will grant it to me.¡± ¡°Why?¡± I asked, despite myself, not in regards to the guards granting mercy, but in regards to the idea of Berenguer granting mercy. I had almost readied myself for death, comforting myself that at least I was able to get some satisfaction before I died. Why would he spare us? Berenguer laughed. ¡°The same reason I tested you, and sent that illusion of a golem to fight you. As powerful as I am, I am busy, and I cannot be everywhere at once - though I could make it appear so. No, I have men who work for me, as you have seen. ¡°I did not get to where I am by being emotional. If I kill you, then I will feel better, in the moment. But I will waste an opportunity. ¡°From now on, you work for me.¡± Chapter 35 - Amaia ¡°You may not want to hear it, Miles, but I think that actually went very well.¡± I frowned at Cadoc, trying to make my displeasure obvious, even though he couldn¡¯t look at me dead-on. That seemed a bit too far for my taste. There was being an optimist, and then there was Cadoc. ¡°How?¡± I asked. ¡°You¡¯re telling me this is your definition of success?¡± I gestured to our surroundings. ¡°Miles, look at the larger scene, broader than this moment.¡± Cadoc answered. ¡°We successfully stole from a powerful mage, and will soon recover our prizes. We fought against his illusion, and we prevailed, and we impressed him with our power, or our wits. You even managed to outsmart him. I admit, we have now been pressed into his service. But even that is a chance to become stronger. And it will be temporary.¡± I sighed. ¡°Y¡¯know, I¡¯m not going to say you¡¯re wrong. But, I mean, maybe it¡¯s just me, but I¡¯m finding it a little hard to celebrate at this moment.¡± ¡°Why is that, Miles?¡± If my life were a movie, then the camera would now zoom out, revealing where we were. It was a public square in the first ring of Eraztun. People filled the streets all around us, going about their business. Some stopped to stare at us. Others jeered. Still others threw things. We were kneeling side by side, head and hands bound inside of a wooden stockade. Y¡¯know, that thing they used to use as punishment back in the day, where people would throw tomatoes at you. Yeah, that thing. When I heard the punishment being handed down, I thought it hadn¡¯t sounded too bad. The point of the stockade, I thought, was humiliation. As bad as that was, it was nothing compared to the specter of roasting alive as a new quadriplegic with his skin peeled off. Besides, I liked tomatoes. It was much worse than I thought. I retched as another fruit, rotted beyond recognition, splatted against my face. Some of it got into my mouth. I tried not to talk when a thrower was around, but I hadn¡¯t seen this one approach. I guess I had gotten too distracted by the conversation. I managed to hold in the vomit, this time. As disgusting as that was, it got worse. Some people threw manure. Others threw old, hardened foodstuff, which hit more like a rock. Rocks seemed to be the main thing that was banned, but the little fucking runts of Eraztun didn¡¯t care for that rule, so earlier that day we had been pelted by stones, thrown by children. Yelling for them to stop only encouraged them to continue. So you can see why I was having trouble looking at the bright side. Cadoc managed to keep smiling, even while we were both getting our faces cut and bruised until we looked like boxers who were losing terribly but didn¡¯t know when to quit. I could feel parts of my face which had swelled beyond recognition, and feel the blood running down my face, from other spots. I couldn¡¯t see myself, of course, but I could more or less see Cadoc, and I could only imagine that I looked just as bad as he did. Berenguer had told us, while we were still in his cell, that we were his, and that we would work for him until we paid off his debt. The idea grated on me. More debt. I didn¡¯t even want to think about it. I seemed to be cursed to forever accumulate debt. Until we paid him back, he said, he would be sending us into a dungeon. He would block the entrance, and we would be barred from leaving until we brought back enough treasure to satisfy Berenguer. Or until we were dead. Whichever came first. This suited Cadoc just fine. We had weapons now, and some of the things we had stolen would help, as well, though we still needed to do a full inventory. So part of me understood completely that this was progress. I was certain we had stolen enough coins and valuables to pay off that month¡¯s payment. And something we had stolen - whether the potions, or the books - would make us stronger. The books might even teach us how to use better magic, which would be a huge jump forward. So I knew that I was about to be both stronger, and richer, the moment we were in the dungeon, out of Berenguer¡¯s sight. But do I seriously need to explain why I didn¡¯t feel great about the situation, even if we were progressing? People were throwing rocks and shit at me. What else do I need to say? ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know,¡± I said, finally responding to Cadoc¡¯s question after I was done dry heaving. ¡°I guess I just don¡¯t feel like dying in the dungeon.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°You underestimate yourself,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°What happened to ¡®I win?¡¯¡± I shuddered, and wished that Cadoc would forget about that speech. I meant what I had said, and an aspect of rage had now taken up residence in my heart, burning inside of me with a warmth that made me feel alive. But it would have been simpler Cadoc had still been passed out, when I had said all of that. ¡°Excuse me,¡± a voice said from nearby. We were not the only criminals in the stockades on that day. I turned my head to look, as best as I could. The voice came from a woman, with blond hair and blue eyes. Her face was untouched by the trash that had been thrown at Cadoc and I. The crowd had qualms about throwing shit at a woman, apparently. What upstanding, merciful citizens we have here. I rolled my eyes at the thought. The woman was tall - though it was hard to tell, at that moment - and muscular, and if she had been from Earth, I would have said she looked rather Scandinavian. Her hair was tied back, revealing a large scar which ran across one side of her forehead. To be clear, she looked nothing like the woman in my dreams, despite the blond hair. Too gruff, too hard, too angular. She looked like she was building up the courage to talk again, though I couldn¡¯t imagine we looked that frightening. She looked scarier than we did. ¡°Excuse me,¡± she said again. ¡°Did I hear you say you were going into a dungeon?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Cadoc answered, proudly. ¡°It is only the natural next step in our monster-slaying, power-building career.¡± The woman was nodding, clearly deep in thought. ¡°Take me with you,¡± she said, suddenly. I laughed in her face. ¡°Seriously, lady? You want to join two strangers - who you know are criminals, by the way - as they risk their lives in some dungeon? If you want to kill yourself, I¡¯m sure there are better options.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him,¡± Cadoc said, and I wanted to strangle him for brushing me aside like that. But my hands were bound. ¡°He¡¯s just in a foul mood about being caught.¡± ¡°Understandable,¡± the woman replied. ¡°What are you in for, then?¡± ¡°Breaking into the home of a powerful wizard,¡± I said, ¡°Attempting to burn his house down, successfully stealing his valuables, and then hiding them where he can¡¯t find them. He¡¯s now sending us into a dungeon, so that we can either make him money, or die.¡± I thought the truth would scare her off, but the woman seemed impressed. ¡°What about you,¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°What are you in for?¡± The woman¡¯s face darkened. ¡°Doing what I wanted to do,¡± she said. I could only think that that sounded extremely ominous, like something a serial killer would say, but Cadoc laughed again. ¡°Truly spoken, truly spoken indeed. Are we not all here because we did what we wanted to do?¡± ¡°Could you be more specific?¡± I asked. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Great, yeah,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯ll convince us to bring you along, sure. A real silver tongue you¡¯ve got.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t owe you anything. I don¡¯t owe anyone anything.¡± And friendly, too. Cadoc was nodding. ¡°Can you fight? Do you have magic?¡± ¡°Yes, and yes,¡± the woman said. ¡°That was my job.¡± ¡°What was your job?¡± I asked. ¡°Like, specifically.¡± ¡°No,¡± she said again, refusing to answer. ¡°There¡¯s no chance,¡± I said. ¡°That we¡¯re going to take you on board. Give up now, lady. We don¡¯t need you.¡± A voice was in my head, suddenly. ¡°Hello, Miles. I would like to remind you of our conversation about the importance of diversity in the workplace.¡± The woman had just opened her mouth to speak again, but I interrupted her to yell at RENA. ¡°Shut up, RENA! Now is not the time.¡± The woman frowned. ¡°My name is Amaia. Not Rena.¡± Cadoc shook his head. ¡°Rena is his goddess. My companion is something of a prophet. He communicates with this goddess often.¡± She frowned again. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Amaia. I am Cadoc, and my great companion here is called Miles.¡± ¡°Charmed,¡± I said, sarcastically. ¡°I, for one, think we should let her join,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°She was brave enough to volunteer to delve into a dungeon with us. What more do we need to know? We need every brave soul we can get.¡± ¡°You remember that this is a punishment, right?¡± I asked. ¡°That we¡¯re only going into a dungeon because we¡¯re being forced to? This is the same as if some woman asked if she could go to prison with us, to serve a ten-year sentence in the cell next door. It¡¯s insane. She¡¯s insane, clearly. She¡¯d probably kill us in our sleep or something.¡± ¡°I can hear you,¡± the woman - Amaia, I guess - said, annoyed. ¡°Congratulations,¡± I said. ¡°My friend needs further convincing,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°What sort of magic do you use?¡± ¡°Disarming, mostly. Metal.¡± ¡°Like a guard?¡± I asked, remembering my poor, crushed revolver. I wished RENA would finally agree to send me another. ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°Like a guard.¡± ¡°That would be useful, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± Cadoc asked, turning to face me - as much as he could while in the stockade. ¡°Oh yeah, sure. It¡¯ll be really useful to travel with a potential murderer who could break our weapons at any time. I can¡¯t wait!¡± ¡°Why do you think me a murderer?¡± Amaia asked. ¡°Because you¡¯re a criminal, and you won¡¯t tell us what you did. We told you we were thieving arsonists, so I can only assume what you did was worse.¡± ¡°I told you,¡± she said. ¡°I did what I wanted.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Not good enough.¡± ¡°Miles,¡± Cadoc interjected. ¡°They don¡¯t put murderers in the stocks. They execute them.¡± ¡°All the same,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t trust her. Why would you possibly want to join us?¡± ¡°I want freedom,¡± she said, gazing off at the sky. ¡°Freedom from my responsibilities. Adventuring sounds perfect.¡± I scrunched up my face. ¡°What responsibilities? Are you married, or something? Deadbeat mom?¡± ¡°No.¡± Talking to Amaia was infuriating, the way she spoke in short, unhelpful snippets. There wasn¡¯t a chance in hell that I was going to sign on to have this aggravation follow me around 24/7. Cadoc was bad enough. ¡°Would it convince you if I let you go?¡± Amaia asked. ¡°You can do that?¡± I replied. She spread out the palm of one hand, and faced it roughly towards me. Then I heard as the lock which kept the stocks shut was broken. It dropped to the ground with a thud, and I could see it lying there, twisted. I stood up. Nothing stopped me. She then did the same thing with Cadoc¡¯s lock. Of course, we couldn¡¯t just leave. Berenguer had eyes all over this ring of the city, and guards would be guarding every exit. He even had men posted just out of sight, in every direction we could leave from. He had shown us, personally, lest we try something. But it did feel quite good to stand up again, and stop getting pelted for a little while. We could always get back into the stockades just before the guards came to collect us. ¡°If you could do that the whole time,¡± I said, looking down at Amaia. ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you just leave?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t want to,¡± she said. Yep. Definitely crazy. But that magic¡­ Maybe she could teach us. Cadoc spoke up. ¡°Clearly we should take her along. Her magic alone would get us far.¡± I sighed. ¡°I guess we can give it a shot. But you¡¯re on a trial run, got it?¡± Amaia smiled a thin smile. ¡°Thank you.¡± Then the lock fell from her stocks as well. She stood and brushed off her clothes - which, I now noticed, looks surprising nice, like what a noble might wear. She turned to us and offered her hand. ¡°Amaia, as I said. I will work with you for as long as I feel like it, and not a second longer.¡± I took her hand, and shook it. ¡°I couldn¡¯t have said it better myself.¡± Chapter 36 - To the Dungeon The first surprise was learning that this dungeon was inside the walls of Eraztun. ¡°Is that normal?¡± I asked Cadoc, trying not to let the others overhear. ¡°You¡¯re asking me, friend, what is normal inside of a city I first entered at the same time you did?¡± I shrugged. ¡°I guess I am.¡± I certainly didn¡¯t want to ask anyone else. It amazed me how much I preferred talking to Cadoc, when I compared him to my other options. And to think, I used to find him annoying. I didn¡¯t know annoying, yet. ¡°I believe it is normal, yes,¡± Cadoc answered. ¡°I have heard of it, at least. Especially in the first ring. Many people outside the walls considered it a false rumor - they didn¡¯t want to believe that the great city of Eraztun would allow such a thing - but it always made a certain sense to me.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t this city supposed to be safe?¡± I asked. ¡°It is safe,¡± he said, without even a lick of irony. It sounded ridiculous. We had just been kidnapped only days earlier, after all, but I didn¡¯t bother reminding him of this. I suppose, if I thought about it, we had been kidnapped outside the city. We just happened to be kidnapped by people from the city, who then brought us in. Speaking of which, I still wondered if anyone was ever going to notice that we weren¡¯t exactly supposed to be there. Would we eventually get reported to the fantasy version of ICE, and deported? All someone had to do was ask to see my magic, and the jig would be up. I¡¯d be thrown out, or worse. Then again, Berenguer probably wouldn¡¯t let us go so easily. We were walking across great sloping plains of grass, where large horned mammals ruminated. They looked liked over-sized goats, with horns that were more like antlers. These grasslands were interspersed with fields of grain and vegetables, with the occasional farm house placed seemingly at random. We had been walking - marching, more like - for hours that day, and had walked all of the day before, as well. It amazed me, again, just how large this ¡°city¡± was. The longer I spent in Eraztun, the less I seemed to understand about it. I looked to our left, and saw the rest of the city towering over the world. It looked so far away, and yet so intimidatingly close, too. I couldn¡¯t make up my mind whether it looked closer that it had outside the walls - as it obviously should - or if it, somehow, impossibly, looked further away. ¡°It is a First-Ring level dungeon,¡± he continued. ¡°That means the people here can handle it. If it got out of hand, or became a Second-Ring dungeon, then a higher ring of the city would likely come to help. At this level, they won¡¯t bother.¡± Someone is going to have to explain the whole ring thing to me. How can a second-ring dungeon be in the first ring? What does that even mean? But I held this thought, and asked about the topic at hand. ¡°If they can handle it,¡± I asked. ¡°Then why is it still around?¡± I hadn¡¯t seen him move from the front of the convoy, but suddenly Berenguer was speaking into my ear in his grating voice. ¡°Money,¡± he whispered, and my skin crawled. Berenguer apparently meant to set up camp just outside the dungeon, and so he was leading this caravan there himself. The caravan consisted of a number of carts drawn by massive lizards, like large komodo dragons, which hissed at me if I got too close. Which I didn¡¯t do often. I was warned they they would bite, and would not let go when they did. They were driven by some of Berenguer¡¯s men, who I may have recognized, if I hadn¡¯t had the sense to avoid them, too. Berenguer had told us he didn¡¯t plan to stay - other projects to work on - but that the beginning stages almost always needed direct supervision. I wished he would just leave us alone. Every time he spoke, my blood boiled, and I think he knew it. ¡°If we simply destroy the dungeon,¡± Berenguer continued, ¡°What happens?¡± He spoke like one of those professors I despised in college. He waited for a response, but I was doing my best to ignore him. ¡°People stop dying,¡± Amaia answered. Ah, right, Amaia was there, too. It was easy to forget. She didn¡¯t speak much - a minor miracle - and tended to keep to herself. I occasionally spotted her staring, wide-eyed, at the surrounding farmlands, like she¡¯d never seen a field before. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Amaia had simply approached Berenguer and asked for a job - as if he were a regular employer and not an evil wizard who enjoyed torturing people with their own minds. She requested to be put in the expedition party with Cadoc and I. Berenguer had agreed, and also agreed to pay her handsomely for her services. Which was better than I was getting. She didn¡¯t seem very happy about taking the ¡°job¡± - maybe it was a little too much like ¡°responsibility¡± for her - but she also made it very clear to Berenguer that she would leave the second she felt like it, and felt absolutely no loyalty or obligation to him whatsoever. Berenguer had laughed at this. He was laughing again, now, at Amaia¡¯s response. His laugh sounded like the creaking of an old house. ¡°And why, pray tell, would I care about that? No no no, what happens then is that the dungeon is gone. ¡°The dungeon, full of monsters which we can carve up into sellable pieces, full of plants and animals not native to Eraztun, full of treasure and magic - it just vanishes. Doesn¡¯t that strike you as a tragedy?¡± ¡°Strikes me as the point,¡± Amaia responded. Berenguer pointed a finger at her. ¡°Then you have much to learn. ¡°The secret to success,¡± he continued. ¡°Is squeezing every last drop from every opportunity that comes your way. Like our friends here.¡± He motioned to Cadoc and I. ¡°I could have killed them. Instead, I will drain them.¡± ¡°I get the idea,¡± Amaia said. The second surprise was just how badly contained the dungeon seemed to be. It wasn¡¯t long after that discussion that we could see black smoke billowing up from somewhere ahead of us, a little to one side. Amaia noticed it first. ¡°Fire,¡± she said, and pointed. ¡°To arms!¡± Cadoc said. ¡°A battle awaits, I am certain. I can feel it in my blood. Let us join the fray!¡± ¡°We will do no such thing,¡± Berenguer said. ¡°We¡¯re on a strict itinerary. And if that wasn¡¯t an accidental fire, then we must be getting close.¡± I shuddered at finding myself agreeing with Berenguer. I wanted nothing to do with whatever was going on. Unfortunately for me, the path we took led close enough to the source of the fire, anyway. We could see what was happening, all too clearly. To our right was a small village of thatched-roof houses. It looked like it was a pleasant enough little farm town, maybe a dozen houses in all, and a little marketplace. ¡°Was¡± being the operative word. At the moment, it looked more like a layer of hell. The houses burned, and screaming could be heard at regular intervals. People ran, panicked, in all directions, and some of them crossed in front of our caravan. ¡°Help!¡± They yelled, but Berenguer pretended not to notice. Then I saw what was attacking the village. They were humanoid, but bestial. A scraggly layer of matted black-or-brown fur covered their short bodies, with bald spots and overgrown patches interspersed, and their hands and feet looked too small when compared to the rest of them. In their hands, they held any piece of junk that even resembled a weapon - a pitchfork, a scythe, a hoe. Some clad themselves in clothing that was equally shoddy - ripped and torn. Some even wore a piece of armor or two, but never a full set. Some wore only one boot or glove, or a cloak with more holes than fabric. Others, however, were obscenely naked, and they were terrible to look upon. Some held no weapons, and they were somehow even worse, using only teeth and claws. They tittered and squeaked in an incomprehensible gibberish, and moved quickly, but without grace. I could see no clear leader to this raiding party - no organization, nothing that I could tell. They were beasts. The closest animal comparison we had on Earth would be a rat - especially since their snouts were long and pointed - but if you imagined that, you wouldn¡¯t get it quite right. They looked like something out of a nightmare. The village must have mounted a defense already, but it had fallen. Dead bodies lay in the streets, covered in leather armor, and holding real weapons - swords and spears, mostly - which were quickly gathered up. The monsters were ripping pieces from the corpses - pieces of armor, yes, but also pieces of flesh. I saw a group of them swarm a pile of bodies, and then quickly scatter. I couldn¡¯t tell you how long it took, because it all felt so unreal. But I can tell you that it was fast, and when they were done, there were not even bones left. It was as if the remains had been disassembled. The creatures ate some parts, wore others, and stored more in wagons, wagons full of viscera, weapons, armor, money, pieces of woods torn from the houses - everything. They took without thought. Every bone in my body screamed at me to run. Luckily, we were some distance away, and either they had not noticed us, or else they sensed Berenguer¡¯s power, and did not dare approach. I did not have a clear idea of how powerful Berenguer was - something I¡¯d probably have to talk to Amaia about, unfortunately, as Cadoc didn¡¯t seem to know - but I had to assume he outclassed these monsters. Cadoc drew his sword. ¡°Let us not be cowards. Let us fight.¡± He begun to walk towards the scene, but was stopped by Berenguer, who grabbed at his wrist. ¡°Have I spoken too quietly?¡± Berenguer said. ¡°I forbid you. We will continue on.¡± ¡°Have you no shame?¡± Cadoc responded, fighting against Berenguer¡¯s grasp. ¡°I would rather die than let anyone witness me flee from such a battle.¡± Berenguer shook his head. ¡°No, you would not. You would rather live. If I caused you enough pain, you would realize that. But I haven¡¯t the time. Instead¡­¡± Berenguer held out a hand, and I felt as his magic worked on Cadoc. Cadoc then looked around desperately, a somehow blank look in his eyes. ¡°What have you done?¡± He put his hands to his face as if feeling for something. ¡°You have blinded me!¡± ¡°I have,¡± Berenguer said. ¡°Pray I do no more. I will return your vision when we arrive. Rickart!¡± He called to one of his men. ¡°Load our friend here into a cart. And keep him there.¡± Cadoc swung his sword wildly, but Berenguer walked away, back to the front of the caravan. Rickart came, knocked the sword easily from Cadoc¡¯s hand with the blunt end of a spear, and pushed him over to the cart. Cadoc soon complied rather than trip over himself, though he yelled all the time, calling Berenguer many synonyms for ¡°coward.¡± Cadoc was an idiot. I didn¡¯t want to make a habit of being on Berenguer¡¯s side, but there was no reason to fight. It was clear that no one in the village could be saved. They were all either dead, or so close that they wouldn¡¯t survive to the end of any battle we started. Even if they were alive - and would somehow stay that way - we were vastly outnumbered. Without Berenguer¡¯s help, there would be nothing we could do. And Cadoc was a fool if he expected Berenguer to help. ¡°What about you?¡± Amaia said, suddenly, and I jumped. I had forgotten she was there, again, and she had appeared at my side like a ghost. I wish people would stop doing that. ¡°We have no choice,¡± I said, avoiding the question. ¡°So it isn¡¯t worth talking about.¡± Amaia nodded, still gazing at the carnage. ¡°Not my village,¡± she said, and I had no idea if she meant it, or if she was making fun of me for not caring. She smiled grimly, and that didn¡¯t help me figure out what she was thinking, either. I stole one last glance at the village. The carts filled with dismembered spoils had already begun to roll away. I noticed, to my horror, that some of the bodies in that pile were moving. Women. Children. Half buried. I turned away. There¡¯s nothing I can do about it. Unfortunately, it turned out I was wrong in my assumption about the monsters keeping their distance. It wasn¡¯t long before a group of them blocked our path, ready to devour us. Chapter 37 - Pareprop Half a dozen of the rat-man-monsters - which I later learned were called the Kalamuzi - blocked our path, newly-looted swords and spears held tightly in their small hands. Their fur was covered in stolen equipment, such that they were mostly clad in leather. These were the best-equipped Kalamuzi we had seen thus far - a result of their recent victory, no doubt. They snarled and squeaked at us, as if trying to say something, but they didn¡¯t wait for a response. Immediately they came closer for an attack. Their black-marble eyes glinted with evil desire. These Kalamuzi had made a terrible mistake. With a wave of his hand, Berenguer stripped the attackers of all confidence. They had eyed our caravan with a single-minded hunger; an instant later they cowered, looked worryingly in every direction, and began striking desperately at invisible foes. Amaia had rushed towards the action, and, seeing that the threat was nearly extinguished, I followed, but kept a wider berth. I could hear Cadoc inside the cart, yelling. ¡°What¡¯s going on? Are we being attacked? Untie me!¡± While I wondered if I should bother helping - perhaps I could get more magic from these monsters? - Amaia retrieved a spear from where she had strapped it on the side of a cart. It was simple weapon - not much fancier than the ones a couple of the Kalamuzi held. Berenguer¡¯s men were approaching as well, weapons in hand, but slowly. The ratmen were still semi-dangerous, and their erratic and violent swings and thrusts could still connect with an unwary opponent. Amaia strode forward anyway. She held out her left hand, and the sword held by one Kalamuz snapped in half like a dead branch. The rat continued to swing his broken sword until it was choking on its own blood, a spear thrust through its jugular. Berenguer¡¯s men made similar short work of the other Kalamuzi. I was certain that the men possessed some sort of magic - Berenguer would not likely hire ¡°polluted,¡± as the magicless - and sometimes weak mages like myself - were called. But I did not see any of them use their powers. Perhaps their magic would clash with Berenguer¡¯s. More likely, I thought, they use the same sort of magic. Students of his, maybe. ¡°Fools,¡± Berenguer said, disdain in his voice. ¡°And now we are late. We will have to stay the night in the next town. If it still stands. Hurry up.¡± I couldn¡¯t imagine how a battle so brief could cause us to be late, but maybe the argument with Cadoc had contributed as well. Or maybe Berenguer was one of those people who liked to complain, and so made up reasons to, even though he had always been planning to stay in the next town regardless. I could see it. As the convoy began moving again, I will admit that I ran to the new corpses, checking the dead ratmen for anything that looked valuable. I was broke, alright? Every dollar counts. The best-dressed rat - who wore now-bloodstained scraps of clothes in addition to armor - had a silver necklace jammed into the pocket of his dirty coat. I wondered at how it had gotten there. Did the rat-thing steal it from a villager, and stash it away, rather than add it to the pile? Or did he just get this coat, and it was already in the coat pocket, and the monster didn¡¯t even know he was carrying it around? Or, worst of all, was this rat once a human, and has held onto this necklace all along, like the last vestige of his humanity? These fine considerations aside, it was a nice enough necklace, and I took it. I then remembered that Berenguer had called Cadoc and I ¡°rats¡± a few days prior, and was suddenly much more offended than I was when he had said it. ¡°Find anything good?¡± Amaia asked, causing me to jump again. I stashed the necklace in my own pocket, and I¡¯m sure I looked guilty. ¡°No,¡± I said, almost instinctively, and then, realizing what I had said, I corrected myself. ¡°Yes, I mean.¡± Amaia smiled. ¡°That¡¯s good. Come. You¡¯re being left behind.¡± Sure enough, the convoy had not waited for me. I hadn¡¯t expected it to, but it was already nearly out of sight. I ran after it, afraid another attack would meet me before I caught up. - The next town was still intact, and was, in fact, completely unmolested by the Kalamuzi. I wondered aloud at how this could be, since we should be closer to the dungeon, and the Kalamuzi must have passed this way to get to the razed village. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Cadoc answered me - he was recently freed, now that we were in town. We were sitting at a table on the outside of a restaurant, enjoying the nice weather as the sun neared sunset. Our path had not been a straight one - only Berenguer could likely tell you why - and so we had drifted away from the outer walls, such that I had almost forgotten they were there, in the distance, like the outline of mountains. But more recently, especially since the battle, our path had taken us closer to them again, and they loomed high over us. The air had no wind, seemingly blocked by the great walls. If it had been any warmer, it would have been stifling. Amaia was with us, as well. Ever since she had joined up with us, she stuck around us like one of our shadows. She had paid for Cadoc and I, though, so I held my complaints. She eyed every passerby with a look of wonder - and they, mostly body-mage day-labourers, looked at her, too, with a very different look. ¡°Dungeons can spread in insidious ways,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°These Kalamuzi - that is what they are called, friend - they need not have marched on that village directly. Dungeons, if left alive, will expand their roots, and these roots are like tunnels, like parts of the dungeon itself. These roots will then breach the surface, and monsters spill forth from these dungeon branches like a plague. Likely this is what happened.¡± ¡°Agreed,¡± Amaia said. I imagined how many lives must have been lost by keeping the dungeons alive. Wait¡­ ¡°Did you say the dungeon was alive?¡± I asked. ¡°That is what most people believe,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°How else would they grow?¡± I pondered this as I ate my meal. It was something like a deconstructed sandwich. By watching others, I found that the way to eat it was to grab a piece of the bread, use it to grab a piece of spiced meat, and dip them both into the buttery sauce it was served with. It was absolutely delicious. I washed it down with some of the cleanest-tasting water I¡¯d ever drank. When we were finished, we sat awhile, all of us surely enjoying the rest. I hadn¡¯t had an afternoon so relaxing since Earth, and only rarely then. Then it hit me. ¡°My debt! What day is it!?¡± The look of worry on the faces of my two companions would have told me they knew what I meant, but Amaia obviously had no idea, because I hadn¡¯t told her about my debt. So I don¡¯t know why she looked worried exactly. I called out to RENA. ¡°RENA! What day is it? Am I past due? Fuck fuck fuck, please tell me I still have time.¡± ¡°Good afternoon to you too, Miles. It¡¯s been awhile, hasn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need to do the pleasantries, RENA, You¡¯re a ma- *ahem*¡± I had almost said machine. ¡°Anyway, do I still have time?¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid not, Miles.¡± My heart sank, but RENA continued talking. ¡°However, I took the liberty of selling some of what you sent me. I chose the coins and jewels and gold. I hope you do not mind, Miles. I calculated that you would accept this decision, but I may have miscalculated. I would have contacted you, but you appeared to be quite busy.¡± ¡°Yes! Thank you RENA! Fuck, you about gave me a heart attack for a second there. So I¡¯m good? They haven¡¯t started repossession, or anything?¡± ¡°Not at all, Miles. You are in perfect standing. The government eagerly awaits your next payment.¡± The words ¡°next payment¡± almost put a damper on my spirits, but didn¡¯t. I felt like I had just had a close brush with death. ¡°Thank you again, RENA. I¡¯ll be in touch soon about the other stuff. I¡¯m busy right now.¡± ¡°It is my duty to serve, Miles, and Dimen-X is grateful for the profits you are bringing in - even if slowly. Enjoy your afternoon.¡± ¡°You too,¡± I said. ¡°I will do no such thing. But thank you for the gesture, Miles.¡± I was smiling. This was no small victory. One month of survival. I wonder what RENA would have said about my chances of getting this far. It also meant one month without seeing Tom, but I threw that thought away. My mind returned to reality, and I saw that Amaia and Cadoc were talking. Amaia had been staring at me, at first. ¡°Does he do this often?¡± Amaia asked. ¡°Fairly often, yes,¡± Cadoc answered. ¡°Has he ever been smited?¡± Cadoc laughed. ¡°You might think so, as rude as he is, but I¡¯ve never seen it. He is a favorite of this RENA, clearly.¡± ¡°I can hear you, y¡¯know,¡± I said. They turned to face me. ¡°I did not know,¡± Amaia said, simply. ¡°All is well?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°All is very well!¡± I said, beaming. ¡°I would call for a round of ale to celebrate, but¡­¡± ¡°Fine,¡± Amaia said. She called the waiter over. We spent the rest of the afternoon carousing, Cadoc and I regaling Amaia with tales of our adventures. We¡¯d only had a couple, sure, but they were good stories, I thought. She smiled, and drank, and gave short responses or words of encouragement, sometimes. I had been wondering, recently, whether or not Amaia was special. She was strange, certainly, but my radar couldn¡¯t say for sure whether that was due to a true exercise of free will, or something mundane, like daddy issues. At that moment, however, Cadoc and Amaia both seemed to have that spark. I even forgot, for one blissful moment, that I didn¡¯t have it. I felt like I was good enough, and not just an impostor who had infiltrated their ranks. The moment passed, but the memory of it left me with a smile on my face, all the same. When darkness began to descend on the town, Amaia paid our tab, and we started towards the camp Berenguer had set up on the outskirts. Apparently he had had business to attend to here, and I hoped we wouldn¡¯t run into him, that night. That would spoil the mood. Muscular men shot glances at us as we passed them, walking down the wide road of Pareprop - the name of the town, I had learned. The last town had been called Graja. Though it didn¡¯t need a name anymore. ¡°Why do they stare at me?¡± Amaia asked us, in a whisper. She seemed more curious than concerned. ¡°No women in town,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Really?¡± Amaia and I both responded, at the same time. ¡°Truly. Body mages only enter into the first ring as workers. But only the ones who can work their muscles with magic. The other sorts of body mages are turned aside - as happened to Miles - with only rare exceptions. The women are also turned aside too, for the most part, though a good number still get in through other channels. Smuggled in. As, well, as prostitutes.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Amaia said. ¡°A town like this may be too poor to have any,¡± Cadoc said. I didn¡¯t think it looked particularly poor, but I didn¡¯t have much of a reference. ¡°Or, there is a shortage. Or perhaps they stare because those sorts of women only come out at night, and they are shocked to see you by daylight, even as the sun sets.¡± ¡°They think I¡¯m a prostitute?¡± Amaia asked, clearly offended. Cadoc only shrugged. ¡°Oi!¡± A voice echoed from behind us. Three men, muscular beyond normal human limits, stood in the road behind us. I squinted at them; the sun was directly behind them, and I couldn¡¯t make out their features. The one in the center spoke. ¡°I think the lady would like to come with us.¡± Chapter 38 - Pimps and Thugs The three of us hadn¡¯t brought our weapons into town. We hadn¡¯t thought we would need them, not in a nice little town like that, and Berenguer had instructed us not to scare the locals. He hadn¡¯t mentioned that the locals might come after us. ¡°Oi, you hear me?¡± the man asked. ¡°We don¡¯t want any trouble,¡± I said, hands raised. ¡°Then hand her over, polluted. We let you pimps hang around for the women, not so we can waste our time talking with you degenerates.¡± So that¡¯s what they think. ¡°The lady is content,¡± Cadoc responded. ¡°She doesn¡¯t want to accompany you. If you wish to fight us, however, challenge us.¡± The leader turned to one of his companions in mock surprise. ¡°Did that illegal just talk back to me? Did he really just talk back to me?¡± Illegal, I thought. I supposed we were there illegally. Was that so common? I didn¡¯t think getting in was so easy. Cadoc had made it sound impossible. The three men weren¡¯t any more armed than we were, but they didn¡¯t need to be. They were deformed monuments to muscle, and each looked like he could crush our heads between his hands. Although¡­ it was easy to miss when intimidated by their size, but they weren¡¯t muscular all over. Their legs were shriveled baby-legs, and once you noticed this, the men looked goofy and top-heavy. It looked like a stiff breeze would knock them over. I stifled a laugh, but apparently not well enough. ¡°The polluted is laughing!¡± a different one said. ¡°He sneaks into our city, takes our women, and now he laughs at us, too.¡± Anger spread across their faces, and I couldn¡¯t help laughing even more. They looked like cartoon villains. Not even that. They looked like the low-level goons of a cartoon villain. ¡°Come, then,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Do you intend to fight us, or stand there and be offended?¡± Before any of them could answer or make another move, Amaia ran forward. She had been quiet the whole time, looking for an opportune moment. She punched the leader of the three square in the nose, catching him off-guard, and it broke with a crunch. Blood gushed out immediately. He reeled. Cadoc and I rushed to join her, though I considered running, for a moment, telling myself that surely Amaia and Cadoc could handle this on their own. But I joined the scuffle, and alcohol may have played a role in my decision-making. The leader of the thugs was stunned, but the other two converged on Amaia. She threw punches at them, too, but to much less effect. As she struck at one, then the other, back and forth, they covered their faces, and her blows hit purposelessly against the rock-hard muscles of their arms and torsos. She may as well have been punching a wall. It was obvious to me that their weak points were the faces - who would waste muscle on a face? - and their legs. But that was a harder thing to exploit then you might think. They knew better than to let you get a shot at their faces, now, and while I tried to kick at the legs of one of the thugs, it was impossible to get close enough. He brushed me aside as he lunged at Amaia, and even this casual movement knocked me back, stumbling into the dirt. Cadoc clearly had had the same problem, shoved back, and the two men completely ignored us as they successfully grabbed Amaia. She struggled, but it was pointless. They were stronger than any of us. And she couldn¡¯t use her magic to disarm someone who was already unarmed. My mind searched for plans of attack. Old faithful would be getting Cadoc to summon sticks beneath their feet, but that really only worked if they were moving, which they weren¡¯t. And only once, more than likely. I didn¡¯t think the sticks would be hard to avoid if you knew they were there. Say he summons them, and they trip and fall - then what? We run? And that¡¯s assuming Amaia isn¡¯t crushed in the fall. Or that we aren¡¯t crushed when the men rush at us, and fall onto us. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. The leader had recovered his senses, a little, though blood still streamed from his nostrils. One of his men stood beside him, holding Amaia, who still struggled wordlessly. Cadoc and I stood across from them. ¡°Ungrateful little shits!¡± he said, his voice sounding funny. ¡°Know your place! You¡¯re lucky we let you scum sneak into our city at all. You¡¯re lucky we even let you cling to the outside of our walls, you parasites. ¡°Sometimes I wonder what the point of reincarnation is, when I see you. The rest of us, we were born as workers, and so we work! We farm, we mine. You were born as trash. Servants. You exist so that people can take advantage of you! That¡¯s the only reason you¡¯re here! Has no one ever told you this? You sinned terribly last time around, and this is what you deserve. So take it! Pay what you owe!¡± The man shook his head. ¡°Why do I waste my time? I have work in the morning. I just wanted a little release at the end of a long day. When I want eggs for breakfast, does my hen attack me? Does she talk back? No, she doesn¡¯t. She gives me what I want, because she¡¯s below me.¡± The man pointed at the ground between us. ¡°Kneel down and beg for your lives, or else you¡¯re about to find out what¡¯s below polluted in the chain. Maybe it¡¯s chicken.¡± As interested as I was in this sudden profession of religious belief - does everyone in this city believe in reincarnation? - I had a plan. It wasn¡¯t much of a plan, but it would have to do. ¡°Sticks!¡± I yelled. ¡°Staves!¡± If we couldn¡¯t win in a fair fight, it was time to tip the scales. Cadoc had likely been thinking something similar, because he summoned three sticks in quick succession. They were as long as he was tall, and thick, like bo staves. He grabbed one with both hands. I had already had my hand in my pocket. I rushed ahead and threw a handful of nails into the face of the man holding Amaia. Luckily, she was shorter than he was, so I could throw them over her head, though one or two still missed the mark, burning little spots on her face. ¡°Magic!¡± the man yelled as I lit the flames. He recoiled. It wouldn¡¯t do any real damage, but it didn¡¯t need to. He had let go of Amaia. Amaia was our best resource. She clearly had more combat experience than Cadoc or I, and though her magic was worthless in this situation, and any physical strength she might have had was moot, experience matters. Cadoc tossed her a staff, and grabbed the next one. While I retreated to arm myself, Cadoc rushed forward. He had left the last staff on the ground, apparently too bloodthirsty to wait and hand it to me. Amaia had immediately begun to attack. She poked at the men¡¯s ankles, using the staff like a spear, and she kept two of them on the back foot with this as Cadoc rushed to the third. I grabbed the last staff, but before I even rejoined the fray, the battle was won. Amaia had thrust the staff with an aimed strike, and it connected with a thin ankle, shattering bone. The man crumbled. Amaia soon did the same to the leader, who had been about to turn and run. Cadoc¡¯s man had been taken down with a sweeping swing, and, as soon as he landed on his back, Cadoc had beaten his legs with the stick until there was no chance of the man getting back on his feet. I was very happy that these two people were on my side. ¡°Mercy!¡± the leader blubbered, panicked. ¡°We had no idea! How could we have known you were mages? Forgive us, please!¡± I walked up to the downed man, staff in hand. I may have played only a support role in the conflict, but I was as cocky as if I had done it all myself. I pointed the staff at him, the tip only inches from his face. It wasn¡¯t sharp, of course, so the only threat was that I could pummel him with it. Which he really didn¡¯t want me to do, clearly. ¡°Let this be a lesson to you,¡± I said, possessed by a billowing pride. If I hadn¡¯t been a little buzzed, I might not have said anything, just thanked my lucky stars. But I continued. ¡°I am a polluted, for your information. If I understand the term. My magic only effects my nails. And I do owe a debt from my past life. Everything you said is correct. Except for one thing. ¡°You are below me.¡± - I suddenly understood why Berenguer was such an asshole. It was fun. After the fight - we had left our attackers in the road - we laughed and joked and continued back to camp - though much quicker, and with many glances over our shoulders. ¡°Well done,¡± Amaia said, on the walk back, grinning. ¡°Well done yourself,¡± I responded. ¡°A noble victory!¡± Cadoc shouted. ¡°The first of many for our fledgling party. Those thugs won¡¯t soon forget what happened tonight.¡± ¡°No,¡± I said, shuddering in a sudden burst of sobriety. ¡°They won¡¯t. It¡¯s a good thing we¡¯re leaving in the morning.¡± ¡°By the way,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Your magic sucks.¡± ¡°Mine?¡± I asked. ¡°Both of you.¡± Cadoc shrugged. ¡°Served us fairly well in that scuffle, didn¡¯t it?¡± Amaia laughed. ¡°Sure. But you¡¯re weak. They¡¯re just weaker. I¡¯ll teach you.¡± I didn¡¯t know how someone who spoke as little as Amaia did could teach anyone anything, but I was ecstatic. We¡¯d been needing a teacher, desperately. Of course, ironically, her magic had been the least useful of us all in that scuffle, but I didn¡¯t point that out. I was in too good of a mood, drunk on victory and violence - and a little bit of ale, still. Back at camp, we retired to our own tents, with one last cheer. The next morning, I found myself vomiting into a bush, while the sun rose. It wasn¡¯t because of the alcohol - I hadn¡¯t drank that much. I was thinking back to the night before. I should have knelt, I thought to myself. I should have knelt, and not risked my life for nothing. Fucking idiot. This isn¡¯t a movie, Miles. This isn¡¯t a video game. You can¡¯t respawn when you misjudge how strong someone is. You got lucky. I threw up one more time, then wiped my mouth, and helped pack up camp. That day was uneventful. We didn¡¯t have a chance to learn anything from Amaia - that would have to wait until after we arrived - and no further violence met us. The more I thought about it, the more I doubted how much Amaia would really have to teach us. But something was better than nothing. We were very near the outer wall now, the heights of Eraztun a distant mountain, peak still unseen. I expected to see greater signs of corruption as we approached. Warped animals, or blackened earth, swamp, something. I had no idea what kind of place would spawn the Kalamuzi, but it couldn¡¯t just be the plains of the First Ring. But we saw no such thing. If I hadn¡¯t seen the carnage of the Kalamuzi with my own eyes, I would have thought the dungeon had already been destroyed. And if I had thought Berenguer was foolish - which, unfortunately, he wasn¡¯t - then I would have thought he had gone the wrong way. So it wasn¡¯t until we were practically on top of the dungeon before I noticed it. From a distance, I thought it was a hunting camp. Which, I supposed, it was. ¡°Welcome,¡± Berenguer said, his voice booming over us in an illusion. ¡°To the dungeon.¡± Chapter 39 - Change of Plans I couldn¡¯t even see the dungeon, at first. Instead, I saw what looked like a large shantytown. It was a massive group of tents - strong, solid tents, mostly, like an army would use. They spread out before us like a nomadic capital. The tent city was bustling with people, many of whom were rushing to and fro down the unmarked dirt streets between the tents. The most noticeable thing, from a distance, was that they weren¡¯t all disproportionately muscular, as I¡¯d almost been getting used to, by then. A few were, of course, and these ones mostly carried food and supplies, just as they did elsewhere in the First Ring. Or else they were building, erecting new tents, or whatever else sort of manual labor needed to be done. I was wary around these men now, even if it was unfair to judge the whole group by the actions of a few individuals. Life isn¡¯t fair. File a complaint with someone else. But most of the people walking around looked like adventurers. They had weapons of all descriptions hung at their side, or on their backs, or even held in their hands like they were itching to use them. Their clothes were similarly strange, a kaleidoscope of unfamiliar dress - though the most common were variations on the standard leather armor, like what Cadoc and I - and Amaia - now wore. They looked like foreigners, mostly, though this was a hard thing for me to judge. I was more foreign than any of them. I wondered if any of them had seen Tom. I¡¯d have to try to ask when I could. I could hear Berenguer swear under his breath as the place came into view. ¡°Late. Damn it all, we¡¯re late.¡± Before we approached any further, he called for the convoy to stop. He took the time to whip a couple of his men. That is not a joke. He took out a long, dark whip, and gave a few of his men, seemingly chosen at random, a series of lashes. I¡¯m not sure what, exactly, he was punishing them for - could they really have gone any faster? - but luckily, none of my party was involved, even though he had blamed Cadoc for delaying things, earlier. Perhaps he needed us unharmed for the dungeon. I still couldn¡¯t see where the dungeon itself was. While we waited for Berenguer to satiate himself - he had now moved on to giving waking nightmares to some poor, screaming man - I asked Cadoc if he saw it. ¡°That building there,¡± he said, pointing. ¡°Really?¡± I replied. ¡°I believe so. Look at how the tents are arrayed before it. And there are guards. It must be.¡± He was pointing to a flat, circular, one-story building of stacked stone. It wasn¡¯t very large at all, so either it was the smallest dungeon of all time, or it went straight down. The thought made me shudder. I¡¯d been preparing myself for the sight of a hideous forest, or a great cavern, or an encampment of ratmen with spiky palisades and heads on sticks. But something about the idea of descending straight down into the depths sounded much worse. I felt claustrophobic already. It wasn¡¯t long before Berenguer had had his fill of violence. The tortured man shambled back to one of the carts, barely able to walk, but no one helped him. We began our walk into the town proper. Along the way, I marveled at the strange people. One, dressed in electric-blue robes that looked like they were constantly being blown back by strong winds, was practicing with his sword. As he swung, I could see lightning snaking around the blade, and when he struck the training dummy, it was blackened and scorched instantly in the spot where the sword hit. It even made a sound like a miniature thunderclap. Another, a young woman in fur-lined winter gear - despite the pleasant weather - sat before a large tub of water, hand out. She shook slightly as she strained herself, a big blue vein bulging on her forehead. We watched as ice crystals began to form in the water, then a thin layer of ice on the surface, and then, slowly, the whole pool was frozen. Why are these adventurers training, I wondered, when the dungeon is right there? If they weren¡¯t ready to go in, why come? Is the dungeon closed? Do dungeons close? Sorry, the dungeon is out to lunch, come back in fifteen. Berenguer led us to a spot which had seemingly been left for us among all the tents. The carts stopped, and everyone began unloading. We were no exception. A man in silvery robes approached the group as we were still setting up. The man was tall, thin, and amicable-looking. He held a long, intricately carved staff with a multi-colored jewel on top. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Berenguer! How nice to see you!¡± the man said. ¡°I thought perhaps you weren¡¯t going to show, after all.¡± Berenguer looked unamused. ¡°Anwar. How did you find out?¡± He asked coolly. ¡°Is that any way to greet a friend?¡± Anwar smiled. ¡°And you are not the only one with eyes in this Ring. Did you expect to have the dungeon all to yourself?¡± Berenguer didn¡¯t answer, and everyone within earshot knew that the answer was yes. ¡°It is time, perhaps, for you to learn the value of sharing,¡± Anwar said. Berenguer smiled a fake smile. ¡°We shall see.¡± He was acting politely, but at this, a cold air passed over us, like what I¡¯d felt entering the side door of Berenguer¡¯s mansion. Shadows begun to creep into the daylight, dancing always just at the edge of my vision. I tried to tell myself that they weren¡¯t real, but the fear creeped into my heart all the same. And I wasn¡¯t even the target. The other man did not respond, but a substance like mercury swirled around his tip of his staff. I could feel the tension rising. Anwar¡¯s smile had disappeared. At any moment, I expected a fight to break out. So did Cadoc, apparently, because his hand was on his sword. He looked conflicted, however, like he was spoiling for a fight, but had no desire to fight on the behalf of his kidnapper. And just like that, Anwar¡¯s smile returned, and the silvery substance evaporated. ¡°See you around,¡± he said. ¡°May the best man win.¡± Anwar walked off, his appearance brief and confusing. There were layers to what was going on here that I didn¡¯t understand, and so, half in a daze, I asked Berenguer about it, as soon as the man was out of sight - though I was always loathe to talk to him. ¡°Who was that?¡± I asked, as the illusory shadows faded. My voice was embarrassingly weak, and warbled in residual fear. ¡°Anwar.¡± Berenguer replied, still looking out in the direction the man had gone. ¡°A rival, you could say. A thief, you could also say. He is a snake who talks from both sides of his mouth.¡± ¡°And what was he talking about?¡± Berenguer turned to me suddenly. ¡°Do you think I have brought you here for your political advice?¡± He snarled. ¡°Raise the damned tents!¡± I did as I was told, though my blood boiled. I didn¡¯t want to be whipped. Later, Berenguer called the three of us to him - Amaia, Cadoc, and I - and his mood had changed again, it seemed, a little brighter now, though still serious. ¡°There has been a change in plans,¡± he said. ¡°This was meant to be like a farm, you see. You three would harvest the materials of the dungeon, return them to me, and you would continue doing that more or less forever, as the dungeon regrew. Or until you paid off your debts.¡± He turned to Amaia. ¡°Or until you decided to leave, my dear lady.¡± The nicety sounded like poison. ¡°I am afraid that is no longer a possibility. Now, we cannot know what the others mean to do. Perhaps they mean to destroy it, the fools.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Fine,¡± he said, muttering to himself. ¡°Let us play this game then, Anwar.¡± ¡°What is the job?¡± Amaia asked. ¡°Same job, my dear, same job. Enter the dungeon, find treasure, and bring it back to me. Return, do it again. But our timeline has moved up. ¡°I need you all to work fast. Take everything you can. Strip the dungeon clean. ¡°I wish I had known,¡± he said, talking to himself again, under his breath. ¡°I would have brought someone stronger, sent them to the core. Damnit.¡± ¡°Why don¡¯t you go?¡± I asked. Bereguer smiled viscously. ¡°Do you think I have all the time in the world, rat? And there are rules now, damn them. Witnesses. What would it look like for a mage of my stature to fight over a First Ring dungeon with the rabble? Reputation is a weapon I don¡¯t wish to lose.¡± ¡°Can we destroy the core, then?¡± Cadoc asked. Berenguer laughed. ¡°Try it, dear Cadoc, try it. I invite you to try it. But leave one of you behind. Amaia, let¡¯s say. She¡¯ll need to bring me back the treasure after you are slaughtered.¡± Cadoc nodded. Berenguer sighed. ¡°No, Cadoc, you fool. I see that look in your eyes. I was joking. Do not destroy the core. Do not. Until I know what the others have planned, I do not know if there may be a way to salvage my farm. I will be calling for backup, and trying to-¡± he spit on the ground, ¡°negotiate. Perhaps Margaid will see reason¡­¡± ¡°Will there be others?¡± I asked, trying to follow the mechanics of this. ¡°In the dungeon with us?¡± ¡°Have you been listening? Of course there will be others. Actually¡­¡± Berenguer stroked his chin. ¡°There is another option,¡± Berenguer said, slowly. ¡°There are rules out here, indeed, but in the dungeon¡­ Well, certainly no one to enforce the rules, at least. So if your competitors happened to perish inside, why, that is only to be expected in a dungeon, yes?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not killing anyone,¡± I said. ¡°Coming from the man who tried to burn my house down with me in it, that¡¯s rich. Just consider it, that¡¯s all. One way or another, if you do not bring me enough treasure, you¡¯ll be stuck with me. And as much as I enjoy your company - that¡¯s a lie. I despise you all.¡± He turned to Amaia again. ¡°Not you, dear, you understand. ¡°If you get rid of everyone else, we could take it all, see? We could set up our little farm, like I had planned. Then your debt would be paid. Consider it.¡± I was considering how I could strip the dungeon of resources and send them to Earth, not to Berenguer. But I didn¡¯t say that, of course. If this was a competition, then I had every intention of winning. But the real opponent was Berenguer himself. If we didn¡¯t die on the way - big if - then perhaps the treasure would give us something we could use to escape. Or kill him, if need be. It¡¯s self-defense at this point, I thought. ¡°The doors open tomorrow,¡± Berenguer continued. ¡°Prepare in whatever way you need. There are food vendors, and harlots, and booze. The merchants seemed to know what was happening here before even I did. Bastards. I will cover your tabs, within reason. Do not think it a kindness. You will pay back every copper.¡± We left, and the three of us had another meeting on our own. We were inside the tent Cadoc and I were assigned to. No one else was around. ¡°We need to get stronger,¡± I said immediately. ¡°And the best treasure should be near the core, yes? Let¡¯s go to the core.¡± Cadoc grinned. ¡°And here I was thinking I would have to convince you, friend. Yes indeed, let us destroy the core. What a heroic quest.¡± ¡°Protect the townspeople,¡± Amaia muttered to herself. ¡°Indeed!¡± Cadoc said. ¡°We will be heroes to them. In glory we shall return to their cheers, for they will be free of the Kalamuzi.¡± ¡°And perhaps we will be free of Berenguer,¡± I added quietly. Then I laughed. ¡°Sure, fuck it, let¡¯s destroy the core. He¡¯ll be so pissed.¡± It was agreed. We all shook hands. We were going to enter the dungeon, and we were going to conquer it. It¡¯s what Tom would have done, sure, that¡¯s undoubtedly true. But I was also fed up with letting people push me around. And nothing sounded better to me than fucking up Berenguer¡¯s plans. Chapter 40 - Inside the Dungeon By the time the next morning had come along, and we were standing in front of the unassuming building that marked the entrance to the dungeon, we had prepared ourselves as best as we could. We had packed food, of course, and water. It was enough to last us perhaps a week. I had to get a new pack to carry it in - RENA still had mine. I wouldn¡¯t have thought we would be down there long enough to need so much food, but both Cadoc and Amaia insisted we should be prepared. Perhaps there would be something to hunt or scavenge inside, or perhaps not. I didn¡¯t like the implications of any of that. Implication number one being that we might be down there for even longer than a week. Implication two being that we might get desperate enough that we try to eat a Kalamuzi. I don¡¯t care how much like rats they look, that was a little too close to cannibalism for my tastes. I wouldn¡¯t want to eat a regular rat either, for that matter. We were armed much the same as we had been. When Amaia had joined our party, she had brought almost nothing with her that I could see, but quickly received leathers and a spear from Berenguer. She had requested the spear. She seemed to have experience using one. Cadoc and I were in light leather armor as well. It would be enough to stop glancing blows from slicing us up, but it wouldn¡¯t hold up to any attacks that struck true. And they were warm, so I hoped it wasn¡¯t going to be hot underground. Cadoc had his sword, and I had my antisword. I was eager to finally see it break a sword or two, even though part of me hoped I wouldn¡¯t really have to use it. It was hard, but I decided to leave the two-handed mace behind. We all guessed that it would be too big to use underground in close-quarters, and it was heavy when carried in addition to a full pack. Besides that, we had bought a few items around the camp, with Berenguer¡¯s money. We only had to give the merchants his name, and they agreed to add it to his tab. We bought a length of rope, a couple bundles of firewood - unlikely we would find any wood underground, but we¡¯d probably want a fire - a few torches, and three ¡°healing potions.¡± I was hesitant to spend my money on those potions, honestly. This wasn¡¯t a video game, so I had absolutely no guarantee that I wasn¡¯t buying snake oil. But, then again, it wasn¡¯t my money, after all. It was Berenguer¡¯s. And if he thought he was getting it back, he had another thing coming. In addition to all this I had a watch and a pair of nail clippers, which I had luckily had in my pockets when I had sent RENA my bag. And I had a pocket full of nails, of course. I had asked RENA to send me another revolver, again. I missed that gun every day, and I didn¡¯t think the Kalamuzi would be able to disarm me like that guard had. ¡°What do you think, RENA?¡± I had asked her. ¡°I¡¯ve paid off a whole month, what¡¯s a few hundred bucks?¡± ¡°Unfortunately, Miles, I am still awaiting approval from the previous time you made this request. Dimen-X has instituted a freeze on all outbound inter-dimensional shipments, and while the company made an exception for your watch plan, it has never broadly rescinded the command. Please have patience as the company considers your request.¡± I sighed. Maybe, with Amaia¡¯s help, the stuff I stole from Berenguer, and whatever I can find - or kill - in the dungeon, maybe I can figure out some magic that¡¯s even better than a revolver. Who am I kidding. I want a gun! ¡°What about the stuff I sent you before?¡± ¡°I have received approval to send that back to you, Miles, at whatever time you request.¡± ¡°Awesome. Thanks, RENA.¡± ¡°You are welcome, Miles.¡± So we stood outside the entrance, as prepared as we could hope to be. Still, when I looked around at our competition, I wished we had more. The man with the lightning sword was there, as was that ice-woman. They were part of 3-man teams, like us. And there were others, five teams in total, each of which associated with a strong wizard, who was backing them. The lightning-sword guy and his companions worked for Anwar, and the freezing chick was under that woman Berenguer had mention, that Margaid. I didn¡¯t know about the others, but they all looked better than us. One uber-muscular man held a massive sword, about as big as a person, in one hand. Another person, with a bow strapped to his back, was idly flipping a coin between his fingers. I watched as the coin ran along the top of his hand, then to the next hand, then disappeared, only to appear back at the beginning. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Lightning. Ice. Muscles. Teleportation. And we¡¯re working with flaming nails and stick summoning. Besides Amaia¡¯s disarming, we are severely outclassed. I only hope they don¡¯t have the same idea Berenguer had. I don¡¯t want to go toe-to-toe with any of these people. ¡°Welcome!¡± A jovial voice suddenly rang out. It was Anwar, who stepped forward to stand beside the two guards by the building. The building had a great gate instead of a front door. ¡°I am happy you were all able to join us! It isn¡¯t every day that a new dungeon appears in the First Ring, and it wasn¡¯t too long ago that something like this would have led to bloodshed, and mage killing mage for the treasure inside. But no more! ¡°Now, we have order. Rules. We can come together as friends, and have a friendly competition. It is still a dungeon. Some of you will die. But we will not have war in the Ring. ¡°You all mostly know how this works, I¡¯m sure, but some of our foreign independents may need the notice, so here it is: do not kill each other. Please. ¡°In a moment, this gate will open. Beyond it lies a staircase. This staircase leads straight down into the dungeon. ¡°In the past, we had let everyone rush in, all at once. This led to *ahem* less than desirable results. People died. So! The representative mages of the First Ring have voted, and we have instituted a new rule.¡± He took a hat out of one billowing sleeve. I wondered if that was some minor spell, or if he was equal parts mage and magician, if you get what I¡¯m saying. ¡°A lottery!¡± he yelled, as if we would all applaud this. No one did. ¡°We will choose who enters first, at random, by drawing names from a hat. Every group has a slip of paper, as well as every independent. Whoever we draw first will go in, and after a few minutes, we¡¯ll draw another, and so on. We can sense the first room from here, of course, so we know that no Kalamuzi is waiting in ambush, at least not right away. We will also know if any of you try to do the same in the first room, so be on your best behavior! While us higher-Ring mages are not allowed inside, an exception will be made against obvious rule-breakers! ¡°Anyway, with this system, we can ensure total fairne-¡± ¡°What is the meaning of this?!¡± Berenguer¡¯s voice boomed over the crowd. He marched forward, eyes burning. ¡°Do you mean to swindle us all out of the treasure? Your group will be drawn first, I have not doubt.¡± Anwar smiled. ¡°Ah, Berenguer, my old friend. We did vote on this measure, yes?¡± ¡°I cast no such vote.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you?¡± Anwar scrunched up his face in mock thinking. ¡°Ah, yes, that¡¯s right. I suppose you skipped that meeting, didn¡¯t you? Like most meetings. All meetings. Well, anyway, we did reach a majority vote, even without you. So fair¡¯s fair, right?¡± ¡°If you think this will stand¡­¡± Berenguer growled, but Anwar interrupted him. ¡°In the spirit of fairness,¡± he said in a raised voice, as if the audience hadn¡¯t just heard him talking with Berenguer, ¡°Berenguer will be the one to draw the names! It would not do for me to draw them, would it?¡± He held out the hat to Berenguer. Berenguer stared at it for a moment, before finally snatching it. ¡°Fine,¡± he said. He drew out the first name, and his scowl deepened. Anwar read it, peeking over Berenguer¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Botros!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°That is one of the independents, yes? Please, step forward!¡± The man with the massive sword came forward, a thin smile on his face. Berenguer still looked upset, but clearly he had been somewhat mollified by the drawing of someone neutral. Perhaps he had expected that Anwar would use magic to make sure his group was first. Anwar clearly enjoyed his position as announcer. ¡°The time has finally arrived! Guards, open the gates!¡± There was a crank beside the gate, with a chain wrapped around it which led to the top of the gate. One of the two guards begun to turn it, and the gate slowly rose. ¡°What a glorious moment!¡± Anwar shouted over the noise. ¡°May our competitions always be so friendly and joyous!¡± When the gate was fully raised, Botros looked at Anwar, then at Berenguer, as if asking permission to proceed. ¡°Go!¡± Anwar yelled. ¡°The games have begun! Proceed, Botrus, proceed.¡± ¡°It¡¯s Botros,¡± the man muttered as he went. ¡°Not Botrus.¡± ¡°My apologies,¡± Anwar responded. Inside the gate was, indeed, a large spiral staircase, which went straight down. It looked like it was carved from stone, as did all of the room, floor to ceiling. More accurately, it looked like, by some strange phenomenon, the staircase had been formed naturally, some fluke of erosion. Botros began his descent, and was quickly out of view. ¡°Now,¡± Anwar continued. ¡°Who will be next after Butros?¡± - It wasn¡¯t us. We weren¡¯t the third, fourth, or fifth ones to go, either. By the time we were called, there were only two groups left - ours, and Anwar¡¯s. Cadoc and I had fallen asleep. Amaia had to kick us awake. ¡°Anwar!¡± Anwar yelled, reading from the paper Berenguer held. ¡°Why, that¡¯s me. Off you go, my friends! Do me proud!¡± Berenguer was seething, clearly, but said nothing. ¡°And that leaves you, my old friend. No luck today, eh? So it goes. I wasn¡¯t exactly lucky myself.¡± Berenguer stayed silent. After a few minutes of waiting - I think Anwar did it more based off of feel than anything, as I didn¡¯t see a clock of any kind - we were sent in. Berenguer shot us a look as we passed him. It was murderous. Not aimed at us, I didn¡¯t think. He wanted us to kill the other participants. That¡¯s what the look said. We already knew he wanted us to do that, however. But it wasn¡¯t part of our plans. I had no desire for murder. Arson? Sure, occasionally. Revenge? Absolutely. But cold-blooded murder? No thank you. We descended the staircase. We had to light a torch almost immediately, as the light from above seemed to be swallowed up into the earth. The not-earth? Cadoc held the torch. We descended for a long time. Later, I wished I had checked my watch, but I didn¡¯t think of that until we were already some ways down. It took at least fifteen minutes. I think. At the bottom, the staircase let out into a circular room, shaped like the one on the surface. This one was carved from the stone, like the staircase was. There were eight different doors inlaid in the round wall, leading in eight different directions. ¡°Any preference?¡± I asked. ¡°Perhaps not that one, friend.¡± Cadoc pointed. ¡°Seems like bad luck.¡± I hadn¡¯t seen it before, but there was a pile of bones beside one of the doors. They looked old. Too old. I could have spent hours fretting over which door to choose, but we had made a general plan before setting out that morning: if possible, move towards the direction of the outer wall. That way, if we really needed to, we could maybe use one of the Kalamuzi¡¯s tunnels to flee. Not that we really wanted to leave Eraztun, but it would be a good option to have. The problem was that the spiral staircase had spun us all around. We discussed it, and all agreed that a particular door was probably the right one. ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°Here goes nothing.¡± It was a simple wooden door. I pushed it open, revealing nothing but darkness. Cadoc took the lead, and we followed him in. It had been deathly quiet, so I nearly jumped out of my skin when the door slammed shut behind us. ¡°Don¡¯t make another move,¡± a voice echoed in the dark. ¡°If you value your lives.¡± Chapter 41 - Lightning Boy Even without turning my head, I could see a strange light reflecting off of the walls, coming from behind us. Almost like an electric light. I turned to face our ambusher, and sure enough, his sword was glowing, strips of electricity running over the blade like serpents. The light it put off wasn¡¯t much brighter than a glow stick, and had a similar quality. The sword had a thin blade, similar to a Japanese katana, but it appeared to be completely straight and edged on both sides. It was pointed at us. I almost imagined I could feel the hairs on my arms stand up from the static. I recognized the man. I¡¯d seen him before, of course. It was the man from Anwar¡¯s group. He had entered the dungeon just before us. He had a thin, angular face which caught the shadows sharply. His eyes were a blue that approached gray, and his short hair, which stood on end, was similar, a platinum blond that could almost make you think he was an old man. But he was clearly young, perhaps in his twenties, at most. Cadoc and Amaia had turned to face him as well. One of Cadoc¡¯s hands was on his own sword, though he had not yet drawn it from it¡¯s scabbard. The other was still holding our burning torch. Amaia was similarly poised, one hand behind her back, ready to grab the spear that was tied there. The other hand flexed and unflexed, ready to disarm, I imagined. But will her magic work on an enchanted sword? The sword must be enchanted, after all. ¡°You are a brave soul,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°To attack while outnumbered. I respect you for this. But this will not end well for you.¡± ¡°He isn¡¯t outnumbered!¡± A voice echoed from behind us, further into the darkness. I stole a glance backwards, but of course I saw nothing beyond the range of our torchlight. Another voice came. ¡°We¡¯ve got two arrows trained on you.¡± The man had entered with two companions, and they might have had bows - I hadn¡¯t noticed. But I didn¡¯t think they were bluffing. Cadoc snorted. ¡°Then you play to win, aye?¡± ¡°I do,¡± the man replied. The man spoke with a superior voice, one that said he thought he was better than us. I knew that type of voice well. I often used it. I did not yet know if this man deserved it or not. Maybe he was just a stuck-up NPC. ¡°And I¡¯m wasting my time here,¡± the man continued. ¡°Every moment I speak with you lowlifes. So let¡¯s make this quick. Do you want to die today?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said quickly, before Cadoc said anything stupid. ¡°Absolutely not. We have no reason to fight each other.¡± The man laughed cruelly. ¡°No reason? Really? You can¡¯t think of any reason why I might want to cut you down where you stand? Be quiet, you fool.¡± Even in the shadows I could see the man was looking down his nose at us. ¡°My patron does not wish to cause unnecessary bloodshed. So I give you this choice. Leave now, and I will let you go with your lives. Stay, and I shall destroy you.¡± ¡°Sure!¡± I said, agreeing immediately. I didn¡¯t need to think about it. We were on the back foot. This wasn¡¯t the time to be fighting, and I hoped my companions - especially Cadoc - saw that. And I had an idea. ¡°No need to tell us twice. You¡¯ll never see us again. We¡¯re gone.¡± Cadoc looked stunned, and the man seemed surprised as well, as if he hadn¡¯t really expected us to accept. Amaia¡¯s face was expressionless. ¡°Really?¡± the man said, lowering his sword a hair. ¡°You¡¯re just going to leave?¡± Cadoc¡¯s shadowed face seemed to ask the same question. ¡°Of course!¡± I said, smiling. ¡°If you¡¯d please step aside, we¡¯ll leave right now.¡± The man frowned. ¡°I did not think any adventurer could be such a coward.¡± Cadoc begun to draw his sword at the word ¡°coward.¡± The man raised his sword again, and it almost became a fight anyway. I stopped Cadoc, grabbing his arm, and held out a hand to the other man, indicating peace. I also winked at Cadoc, and hoped that winks held the same meaning in that dimension. ¡°Sorry!¡± I said. ¡°My friend here is a bit jumpy, that¡¯s all. No need for a fight.¡± Stolen novel; please report. ¡°Keep your dog in line,¡± the man said. ¡°Next time, I¡¯ll kill him.¡± Cadoc shifted at this, but I kept his arm down. ¡°Thank you, sir, thank you.¡± I said, bowing. I didn¡¯t know if that gesture meant anything here either, but it was worth a shot. ¡°Your mercy is legendary. We¡¯ll just be going now.¡± The man still hadn¡¯t moved from in front of the closed door. He stared, frowning. ¡°Do not think you may return. If I ever see you again, I will kill you, understand?¡± ¡°Yes, right, got it. No problem. We¡¯ll stay out of your hair.¡± He didn¡¯t stop frowning, but he sighed, muttered some obscenity under his breath, and stepped aside. I hurried through, pulling Cadoc and Amaia behind me. The moment we got to the other side of the door, I was smiling. By the time the door slammed shut behind us, I was laughing. Maybe the man heard me, but fuck him. What was he going to do now, huh? ¡°Idiot!¡± I said, and sat down on the ground just in front of the door. ¡°What an idiot. He had his chance, he should have taken it.¡± I shook my head. ¡°You have a plan?¡± Cadoc asked. He was visibly confused. I smiled. ¡°I should have thought of it earlier. What we need right now is a safe place in the dungeon where we can summon our stolen treasure, and train, right?¡± I spread my arms. ¡°Well, here we are! What could be safer?¡± Cadoc looked around doubtfully. ¡°Didn¡¯t they say they could sense us down here?¡± I nodded. ¡°Exactly. Lightning boy can¡¯t attack us here, no mater how much he wants to. Against the rules.¡± Amaia spoke for the first time. ¡°Won¡¯t Berenguer sense your stolen goods?¡± We had filled her in on what had happened at the mansion, of course. ¡°Probably,¡± I said. ¡°But what can he do about it? He can¡¯t come down here! Even if he could, what then? Kill his only chance of getting anything from this dungeon?¡± I smiled contentedly, wearing an even more smug smile than the man who ambushed us had had. ¡°He can¡¯t do shit. I am a genius. ¡°RENA!¡± I said, louder than I needed to. ¡°I am ready for my prize.¡± - It took awhile for the packs to arrive, so in the meantime, we talked. I was in a good mood, having outsmarted both Berenguer and the man with the lightning sword, and I reveled in the idea that both of them probably knew it. In my mind they were seething, and it made me so happy to imagine it. I was such a good mood that I even asked Amaia about herself. ¡°What¡¯s your story?¡± I asked. We were all sitting on the floor beside the door. I sat with my legs crossed, Amaia had her back to the wall, and Cadoc lay spread out on the floor, looking at the ceiling. Or sleeping, maybe. He had put the torch into a little torch-holder on the wall, which we were all thankful for. I didn¡¯t know what those little holder things were called. ¡°What were you doing before ending up in the stocks?¡± Amaia was clipping her nails. I had let her borrow my nail clippers, and she was amazed by them. I had already tried lighting one of her nails on fire, just in case my magic worked significantly differently than I thought. It didn¡¯t work, of course. ¡°Guard,¡± she said simply. I hadn¡¯t expected even that much, but her answer still frustrated me. ¡°What, like a city guard?¡± I asked. ¡°Sure.¡± ¡°What the hell do you mean, ¡®sure?¡¯ It¡¯s a yes or no question, lady.¡± She smiled. ¡°Sure, it¡¯s like a city guard.¡± ¡°But not a city guard?¡± ¡°No, not a city guard.¡± I sighed. ¡°Do we really have to play twenty questions, here? So you were what, a bodyguard?¡± She nodded. ¡°Right.¡± I threw up my hands. ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you just say that!¡± She shrugged. ¡°Explains the disarming magic,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°It¡¯s a favorite of guards, for obvious reasons.¡± ¡°Who did you guard?¡± I asked, though I was already getting just about done with the conversation. ¡°Can¡¯t say.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°What can you say, then?¡± I asked, exasperated. ¡°I left,¡± she said. ¡°Wanted out. Freedom.¡± ¡°Do you feel free now?¡± Cadoc asked, gesturing at the room around us. ¡°Yes. This is fun.¡± I laughed. ¡°Fun. Sure, why not? Fun.¡± Amaia only nodded, still smiling. ¡°What about magic,¡± I asked, done with that line of questioning. ¡°Can you teach us?¡± ¡°Sure. Anyone could.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± ¡°You¡¯re First Ring mages,¡± she said. ¡°I haven¡¯t been a First Ring mage since I was a kid.¡± Cadoc sat up. ¡°You¡¯re in the Second Ring?¡± Amaia nodded. Cadoc leapt up, and in a moment he was bowing. ¡°I had no idea. I ask for your forgiveness, madam.¡± ¡°Stop that. No ¡®madam.¡¯ Ever.¡± Cadoc straightened himself. ¡°Please teach us,¡± he said. ¡°We need power.¡± ¡°I already said yes.¡± Amaia sighed. I hesitated to ask, but I had to know more. ¡°What do you guys mean when you say ¡®in the Second Ring?¡¯ We¡¯re in the First Ring, aren¡¯t we?¡± Amaia raised an eyebrow, and Cadoc answered for me. ¡°A foreigner, remember? No magic in his land.¡± ¡°Mages are ranked by rings,¡± she said, like she was talking to a child. ¡°Everyone mostly starts at the First Ring. Or outside. Polluted. You can move up rings, with work. Higher ring, stronger mage.¡± That was the most words I had ever heard Amaia speak. ¡°So are the rings named after the rings of Eraztun, or are the rings of Eraztun named after the magic concept?¡± Amaia furrowed her brows. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She turned to Cadoc. He shook his head. ¡°How many rings are there?¡± I asked. ¡°How many?¡± Amaia repeated. ¡°I don¡¯t know. At least five.¡± ¡°How do you move up a ring?¡± I wasn¡¯t getting the best answers, but at least I was getting something. I felt like I should be writing this all down. ¡°Training,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Killing monsters. Or other mages. Also potions, spellbooks, scrolls¡­¡± She thought for a moment. ¡°Probably other things. Artifacts.¡± I thought to our treasure haul from Berenguer. Maybe we had something that would advance us a ring. ¡°What happens when you get to the next ring?¡± ¡°Depends.¡± I stared at her, but she didn¡¯t elaborate. ¡°Depends on¡­¡± I prompted. ¡°The person. The magic. The ring. The path.¡± ¡°What do you mean, path?¡± Amaia laughed. ¡°You don¡¯t know anything,¡± she said. ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t. And if you keep answering my questions like you¡¯ve got a gun to your head, I¡¯m going to keep knowing nothing.¡± Amaia looked confused. ¡°A gun is a weapon from my country,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s the one Cadoc saw.¡± ¡°I thought that was called a revolver, friend.¡± ¡°A revolver is a type of gun.¡± ¡°Ah, I see. Thank you.¡± I turned back to Amaia. ¡°Hey, listen. If we have to ask a hundred questions for every little thing we want to learn, we¡¯re going to be here for the rest of time. I¡¯d like to get a move on, maybe learn something before the items show up - though that seems unlikely at this point. They¡¯re probably almost here. But seriously, do you have a problem, or something? Why don¡¯t you just talk normally.¡± Amaia turned her face away from me. I couldn¡¯t be sure, but in the torchlight, it looked like maybe she was blushing. I couldn¡¯t imagine why. ¡°I¡¯m just¡­¡± she started, then clear her throat. I blinked at her. Just what? ¡°I was taught not to speak,¡± she said. ¡°Watch, guard, and be silent. Mouth shut, eyes open.¡± I laughed. ¡°Well that¡¯s an easy fix,¡± I said. ¡°Just find the most talkative person you know, and pretend you¡¯re that person.¡± She looked at Cadoc. ¡°Ok,¡± I said. ¡°The second most talkative person.¡± Chapter 42 - New Spells We didn¡¯t get much more of a lesson in before the packs arrived, but what we did get felt valuable. Some of it Cadoc already knew, but much of it he didn¡¯t - and, of course, I knew nothing. Even with my encouragement, it took a long time to get anything out of Amaia, though, so here¡¯s the condensed version: Magic is divided into ranks called Rings: the First Ring, Second Ring, etc. Within each Ring, there are spells that you can learn. But you can¡¯t just learn any spell. When you kill a monster - specifically, the first monster you kill at your level - you absorb its power. This gives you a broad category of magic to work with - and the instinctive knowledge of one spell in that category. My ¡°category¡± (Amaia called it a ¡°school¡±) was fire, it seemed. Cadoc¡¯s was probably something like ¡°wood,¡± and Amaia¡¯s was ¡°metal.¡± So those two things together give you what type of magic you can use, in addition to the other limitations, of course, like body-mages only being able to cast spells on themselves. I was able to use First Ring fire magic on my nails, Cadoc was able to use First Ring wood(?) magic on his surroundings(?), and Amaia was able to use Second Ring (or First Ring) metal magic on items. ¡°So wait a minute,¡± I said, interrupting the lesson. ¡°You can only use magic on items? You can¡¯t just shoot a ball of metal at someone?¡± I was imagining the possibility of a magical gun. Amaia shook her head. ¡°Only items. It¡¯s called enchanting. I¡¯m an enchanter.¡± Cadoc chimed in. ¡°But she can use it on other people¡¯s items, yes? That¡¯s still very useful.¡± ¡°What determines an ¡®item?,¡¯¡± I asked. ¡°Is a building an item?¡± ¡°No¡­¡± she paused for a moment, thinking, before speaking again. ¡°If you can hold it in your hands, and it doesn¡¯t breath, it¡¯s an item.¡± ¡°What about a dead bird?¡± I asked, immediately trying to find the limits to the system. Amaia scratched her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Fair enough, I guess.¡± I thought some more. ¡°What about Cadoc? He can just do anything? That¡¯s doesn¡¯t really seem fair.¡± ¡°Life¡¯s not fair, friend,¡± Cadoc responded, smiling. ¡°He¡¯s a conjurer,¡± Amaia answered. ¡°He can make something from nothing. Not literally nothing, but from his own mana. But he can¡¯t affect his own body, or another¡¯s, or items.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Cadoc and I both answered, in unison. To go up a rank, Amaia told us, you had to master the school you were in, at that Ring you were in. This was done in a number of ways - killing monsters (especially those related to the school), drinking special potions made for that purpose, using your spells in that school often, and even simply meditating on the nature of the school. That last method was the slowest, but also the safest. Ultimately, advancing was a matter of knowledge, skill, and power - all of which were best obtained through combat, even against monsters who weren¡¯t related to your school. ¡°Then glory awaits us!¡± Cadoc said. ¡°What are we waiting around here for? Let¡¯s go fight some monsters.¡± I reminded him what we were waiting around for, and then it arrived. Two backpacks - one originally from this world, and the other from mine - slowly faded in, if that makes any sense. It was like slowly dragging an opacity slider from 0 to 100. I ran to them immediately, tearing into them like a child on Christmas morning. Yes! I thought to myself. I¡¯ve done it. Finally I can enjoy my rewards. The bags were lighter than they had been, but I knew that would be the case. RENA had sold off the coins and gold and such, which had been most of what was in my pack. I¡¯d have to ask where my debt stood. Later. I dumped out the contents of the packs - but slowly, careful not to break anything. There were two books - Cadoc had swiped those - and four potions - one of which I knew to be highly flammable, unless that had been part of Berenguer¡¯s illusion, as well. Hmm. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. There were also three rolled scrolls, which Cadoc had believed to be magical. They¡¯d better be, because they were bulky, and took up a lot of room. And finally, fishing around in my pack, I found a little ring, made of dull metal. If it had been a golden ring, RENA probably would have sold it, but this one looked worthless. It almost looked like a piece of machinery, actually. But who knows what it might actually be made of. I set it down with the rest of the pile. And that was it. It looked much more meager after subtracting the stuff RENA sold, but I had to remind myself of two things - one, that paying off my debt was the whole reason I was here, so getting all of that sold was great, and two, that even just one of these books might be invaluable. Amaia had just been telling us how spellbooks were one of the ways of learning a new spell in your school. ¡°What books did you get, Cadoc?¡± I asked, reaching for one of them. ¡°The most practical ones that I could locate,¡± he responded. ¡°I cannot guarantee that they will help us, but I think they may. Perhaps I would have chosen the books differently if I¡¯d known what I know now about magic, truly.¡± I opened the first book - which was unmarked, like all the ones I had seen in the library - and turned to the first page. ¡°Floramancy: A Brief Introduction to Plant-Based Magic,¡± I read aloud. I handed the book to Cadoc. ¡°I think this one¡¯s yours.¡± He took it, and I grabbed the next book, silently praying for something useful. This one was heavily worn - some of the pages were loose inside the covers, and the binding was wearing fraying from use. I turned to the first page. ¡°Destruction: Spells of Unmaking,¡± I read. ¡°Intimidating title, but¡­¡± I started flipping through the pages. The book covered a wide range of spells from many different schools, though fire spells were represented fairly well. The problem was, the book seemed made primarily for a conjurer, not a body mage. Which makes sense, I thought. Who would ever cast a spell like ¡°explode¡± or ¡°crush¡± on their own bodies? I looked to Amaia. ¡°Can a body-mage learn normal spells? Like, I use something like ¡°ignite¡± now, right, and a conjurer or enchanter could probably also learn ignite, I would imagine. So even if a spell is made for a conjurer, could I use it?¡± Amaia shook her head. ¡°You are the first body-mage I have ever met.¡± I laughed. ¡°That¡¯s not encouraging. Makes my chances of reaching the Second Ring seem pretty bad, huh?¡± Cadoc was reading his book, and didn¡¯t even look up as he spoke. ¡°Most people wouldn¡¯t even consider you to be in the First Ring, friend. That¡¯s why the guard didn¡¯t let you in. A body-mage who can¡¯t even increase his muscles is basically a polluted, as they see it.¡± ¡°Great,¡± I said, and turned back to the book. Amaia might not know the answer, but it sounds right. And what else is there? Drink random potions and hope for magical powers? There can¡¯t be any harm in trying to cast a spell. In the end, I chose ¡°melt.¡± It seemed the least likely to horribly backfire, and seemed mildly useful. If I threw some nails at someone, perhaps I could melt them a little so that they stick, and then I¡¯d ignite them. Something like that. The book also didn¡¯t have many First Ring spells. Explode sounded cool, for instance, but it was a higher Ring spell. Maybe someday. As long as I was careful not to blow off my fingertips. Amaia asked us both if she could take a look at the scrolls, but I was already reading, and ignored her. I think Cadoc answered her. I had sat down again, legs crossed. I had been using much fewer nails than I grew, so my pockets were always full of nails. I thought that maybe it would be easier to learn a new spell if I had a larger target, so I set a piles of nails on the dirt floor in front of me. This spell, unlike most in the book, was clearly for enchanters, because the instructions went like this: Greetings, enchanter. So, you¡¯ve decided to walk the path of destruction with us. We welcome you. Mages of lesser stock consider destruction the sole domain of the conjurer, but a clever mage knows the value of an open mind. Enchanters can become great practitioners of the destructive arts, if they are wise and well-guided. First, you must set aside all you know of enchanting. Typically, the enchanter uses his powers to strengthen his weapons and armor, or those of his allies. Forget this notion. You do not strengthen, now. You weaken. You destroy. There is a fire that burns inside of you, enchanter. Perhaps you have used it to enflame an arrow, or to temper a blade. Remember that feeling, if you can. The flames. And reverse it. I obviously couldn¡¯t relate to that, so I skipped ahead. If you are a rank beginner, let us start here. Feel the fire that burns, the pool of mana in your body like a burning lake. Focus on it. Feel the heat. Smell the scorched mana. If you start to sweat, you are doing it right. I followed the instructions as best I could, and I could feel it. That reservoir of magic in me grew warm. Now that you have grasped the feeling, still the flames, but do not lose the heat. Breathe shallowly - starve the fire of air, all but the smallest amount. Let it smolder, but keep the heat, whatever you do. It was a strange sensation, but I found myself able to follow it. Something was happening. What we are doing here is separating your flame from your heat. We are breaking down the fire into its components. A fire can cook, but we are stripping that away. This will be a heat that does not cook, but which ruins and melts. Now, once you have separated out the heat, increase it. It should be uncomfortable. Do not worry, you will release it soon. But it must grow inside of you, first. No matter how it feels, remember that you are not melting. You are not a body-mage. Your organs will not melt. That was not encouraging. But only my nails worked with magic, so I figured I would be fine. I hoped I would be fine. But it really did feel like my organs were melting. It wasn¡¯t quite the same as a physical pain, which was the only reason I didn¡¯t stop immediately. But it was painful. It was difficult to continue reading. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as my body screamed danger, but then my veins seemed to melt away. Then the pain melted away, too. Sweat poured from me, and got into my eyes. I blinked it away, wiped it away, and tried to finish the instructions. When it becomes unbearable, you are almost there. Now, you must become the heat. After this was a series of what sounded like affirmations. You are the fire¡­ and so on. Then, at the end, a command to release yourself, to let your power spread out into your target. I released the heat, sent it at the nails, and I could feel the uncomfortable burning in my stomach leave me. But nothing happened. I tried again, reading back through the instructions: finding the fire, separating out the heat, increasing it, bearing the unbearable phantom-pain, then release. Nothing. I tried again, and again, and again. I could feel the mana working inside of me, but when I tried to release it, it was like the flame of a candle being blown out. I have no idea how long it took. By my fifth try, Cadoc had already managed to learn how to summon a small wall of wood in front of him. I didn¡¯t congratulate him. I ignored him, and whatever Amaia was saying, and kept trying. I went through the steps again, and I focused harder on the affirmations, this time. I tried to really believe them, to let them sink into my melting heart. You are the fire which destroys, but does not comfort. The flame which consumes, but does not cook. The blaze which warps, but does not temper. You destroy. You consume. You warp. You are the hunger without a stomach. You are the war without a cause. You are the fire without a spark. I released. I watched the nails intently. They melted. Chapter 43 - Liquid Fantasy Crack I tried to pick up my newly-melted nail pile, but I winced back, as it was hot to the touch. But it didn¡¯t burn me. It must have cooled quickly, and only a little bit later, it was safe to pick up, though warm. What I was left with was a solid chunk. The nails had melted together, then dried, forming one mass about the size of an avocado pit, though still shaped like a deformed pyramid. It wasn¡¯t heavy, which only made sense, so while I wanted to throw it, it wouldn¡¯t fly well. I tossed it to the side, then attempted to sense the nails. It was like sensing one nail, though large enough that it felt almost like sensing an organ. At least, I imagined so. I¡¯d never used magic on my organs, of course. I sent out my magic, and focused on igniting the nails. This took a couple of tries. Now that I had more than one spell, I had to focus on which spell I was using, which was new. But I¡¯d had enough experience with igniting by that point that I got the hang of it pretty quickly. The nail chunk burst into flames. The fire was bigger than any I¡¯d made with my nails before. I thought about the characteristics of the spell. It¡¯s not amazing, I thought, but I should probably stop expecting amazing. Can I find a use for it? If I could make it heavier, maybe I could throw big flaming balls at people. That might be as close to casting a fireball as I ever get. I knew it was unlikely I would think of an application immediately, so I decided I would keep it on the back-burner, and let my mind subconsciously mull it over. I was sure I could find something useful to do with it. Despite not having a clear combat advantage over my old spell - maybe it would melt and stick to the enemy, like I was thinking, but maybe not - either way, I was excited. I was becoming a real mage - though, apparently, I was the only one who thought this. The guards of Eraztun still wouldn¡¯t have let me in, apparently. I turned to Cadoc, and asked him how his new spell was going. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re back with us, aye? Very well, Miles, very well! Watch this.¡± He held out a hand. I watched as his face scrunched up, straining, for a moment, and then a slab of wood - a perfect square an inch thick and about a foot or so long on each side - appeared in the air, from nowhere. It fell after a moment, and clattered to the ground. This seemed like a new version of his last spell, and not much better. But he was very excited about it. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I get it,¡± I said. I wasn¡¯t trying to be a downer about it - although I will admit part of me was happy to see Cadoc not leaving me in the dust with amazing new spells. But Cadoc only smiled. ¡°Try to punch me,¡± he said. I raised an eyebrow. ¡°You really want me to punch you?¡± I asked, trying not to sound eager. ¡°Miles, my friend, I want you to try.¡± I didn¡¯t need any more convincing. I swung at his face. Of course, he was ready for me. Just before my fist connected, another slab of wood appeared, this time in the path of my strike. It didn¡¯t work. My knuckles weren¡¯t stopped by the wood, and that slab was carried into Cadoc¡¯s face with the swing. The wood broke into a spray of wood as my punch was driven through it, and I hit true. Amaia, still sitting against the wall reading scrolls, held up her hands to protect her face from the rain of wooden shrapnel. I backed up, rubbing my knuckles. ¡°If your intention was to give me splinters,¡± I said. ¡°It almost worked.¡± Cadoc, seemingly oblivious to the bruise forming, was frowning in thought - a strange thing to see, and I thought maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me in the torchlight. But then he smiled again. ¡°I suppose I will need to practice more,¡± he said. ¡°Can you punch me one more time?¡± I shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t have much else to do. We¡¯ll get back to the dungeon when we¡¯re all ready.¡± I read my watch in the dim light. ¡°Or tomorrow, at this rate.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. When Cadoc was ready, I let another punch fly. I had already prepared myself to be beating up Cadoc all day and night, but even on the second try, something changed. The wood appeared before my hand at the same moment, but this time, it held. It just floated there in the air, just for a second. But that second was exactly when my knuckles touched it, and so it was like punching a wall. A thin wall, because I punched through it, but I was different than before, when I had more or less punched with it. My hand hurt, and the wood slowed down my momentum enough that my strike landed ineffectively. Cadoc smiled wider while I cursed and rubbed my sore hand. ¡°So that¡¯s what they meant by holding it,¡± he said. ¡°I need more training.¡± I was still rubbing my hand. ¡°I think I¡¯ll have to pass. Not looking to break my knuckles. Try it against a Kalamuzi, next time.¡± ¡°I think I shall, friend.¡± Amaia told us she had little luck with the scrolls, but she did explain what they did, in a general sense. She said that scrolls like those were magical, and were a way of storing a spell. It was a one-time-use deal, but it still gave mages a lot of extra utility by allowing them to use a spell from a school they weren¡¯t trained in. And they weren¡¯t exactly cheap. But she said she¡¯d been unable to identify them. ¡°Only seen a few scrolls,¡± she said. ¡°Not these.¡± ¡°How do we figure out what they do, then?¡± I asked. ¡°What¡¯s even written on them?¡± I peeked over her shoulder at one, and saw gibberish. It used the same letters as English - though with the occasional Old English letter, like the one that looks like an a and an e fused together. But it was nonsense, just strings of letters formed together into words that I probably could pronounce, but which meant nothing, as far as I could tell. Maybe it¡¯s latin or something, I thought. I don¡¯t know a lick of latin. ¡°Llop Uidqru Granhvrik-¡± I started to read, but Amaia placed a hand over my mouth. ¡°Stop,¡± she said. ¡°To read it is to use it.¡± Oh. ¡°Well, like I said, how do we figure out what it does?¡± I asked. ¡°We need another scroll. A scroll of identifying. I could recognize that one.¡± I sighed. Guess we¡¯d just be carrying them around in the meantime. At least they¡¯re not heavy. The potions were similarly unidentified, so that left the ring. I picked it up and examined it. It was a dull metal, like old steel or iron or something. It was unmarked, smooth, and had no rust. I looked at Cadoc through the center of it. ¡°What do you think it does?¡± I asked. ¡°Is it magic, or something?¡± ¡°No idea.¡± I looked at Amaia through it, now. ¡°You?¡± She shook her head. ¡°Probably magic, but I have no idea what.¡± I shrugged, and slipped it on. Cadoc and Amaia both shot up, yelling, telling me to stop, but I already had it on. Then they just stared at me. ¡°What?¡± I asked, still sitting, legs crossed. Suddenly my butt felt cold, but otherwise, nothing seemed to have happened. ¡°Are these rings dangerous, or what?¡± ¡°Curses,¡± Amaia said absently, still staring. ¡°Could have been cursed.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± I said. So that¡¯s why they¡¯re staring at me. They think I¡¯m an idiot. ¡°Well, no harm done. This ring doesn¡¯t do anything.¡± I took the ring off. I dropped. It was like I had sat down while misjudging the distance, and landed hard on my butt. But, of course, that was impossible. I had already been sitting. What the hell kind of ring is this? The Enchanted Ring of Ghostly Kicks to the Ass? I slipped the ring back on, and felt the pressure leave my behind. I touched it with my hand, and¡­ And my hand didn¡¯t feel the ground. I ran my hand across the underside of my legs. No ground. There was just air underneath me. I reached down further, and felt the cold stone about an inch below where I sat. I was floating. - Floating was not as useful as you¡¯d think. All three of us were amazed at having stolen a Ring of Levitation, but levitation does not equal flying. I tested it at the end of the staircase, one step up, while Cadoc and Amaia watched. When I put the ring on, I rose by about an inch, and stayed there. If I did it on the first step, facing into the room, I would rise about an inch above that step, which was, itself, a few inches tall. If I then kept the ring on and walked off the edge - a disorienting experience - I would keep my height, and so I would now be something like seven or eight inches off the ground. Then, if I took the ring off at that point, I would drop to the ground below, as if an invisible floor had suddenly disappeared. I was slightly bruised from that experiment, although I¡¯m not really sure what I thought would happen. So yes, it wasn¡¯t flying, by any means. It was more like the ability of ¡°being able to walk at the same height you were already walking at, plus another inch.¡± But if we needed to cross some gap or something, it would definitely come in handy. I wondered if I could even walk on water. All this done, I felt content. Perhaps my expectations of the treasure we¡¯d stolen had been high, but I wasn¡¯t overly disappointed. This was progress. We were stronger, had gained more versatility, and even had paid off some debt - I wanted a full report from RENA, but, honestly, I was putting it off. No matter how much I¡¯d paid with that last shipment, hearing what was left would depress me. So I ignored it, and didn¡¯t ask. I¡¯d ask later. We ate a small meal of dried meat and drier bread. Afterwards, my watch said that it was night, and we decided to sleep in the entrance chamber. We slept rough, in our clothes, and Amaia assured us that she would wake at the slightest noise. We weren¡¯t overly worried, though, as the mages above could sense anyone who entered that chamber. And who would be returning to the surface that early? And, also, I was feeling slightly cocky. I dreamed about burning things again. When we awoke, the chamber was dark and silent. We hadn¡¯t built a fire - it wasn¡¯t particularly cold or warm in that room, and it seemed like a waste to use our limited firewood like that. We ate a quick breakfast. Amaia had, unknown to us, brought a little bag of something that seemed like tea. I wondered what other secrets she had in her bag. She had little tin cups for liquids, and she had me build a tiny fire from the shreds of firewood. She insisted that it was worth the wood. ¡°Besides,¡± she said. ¡°We have all the wood we could ever want.¡± She motioned to Cadoc. How did I never think of that. Why did we even bring firewood? They really let me buy it without saying anything? Or was I by myself when I bought that? The drink was energizing, but it wasn¡¯t exactly tea. More sweet then bitter, and almost minty. And my skin tingled a little when I drank it. I chalked this up to not having had any caffeine in at least a month. If it was caffeine. I hoped it wasn¡¯t fantasy cocaine or something. Liquid fantasy crack. It was a nice, quiet breakfast. None of us talked, but we were all in a good mood. Then we packed up our things, and the next question was which door to go through. The same one? ¡°Of course!¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Let them try to defeat us, now!¡± ¡°Because being able to float and conjure floorboards makes us invincible, huh?¡± I said. Amaia just pointed at a different door, just to the right of the one we¡¯d first entered. ¡°I agree with Amaia,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s try the next one.¡± Cadoc relented. So we shouldered our packs, opened the door, and reentered the dungeon proper. Chapter 44 - Mold Because of how many of us were sent into the dungeon, and since there were only eight doors, it was unlikely that we were going to find a path that no one else had already been down. We could have checked every door, but in the end, it wouldn¡¯t have mattered. For one, we wanted to be moving towards the direction of Eraztun¡¯s outer wall, in case a tunnel led to the outside and we could escape. So most of the doors were out of the question. Escaping from Berenguer was, in many ways, the most important thing, though pissing him off was pretty high on the list, too. But besides that, we were looking for the core of the dungeon. Despite the way the entrance looked like a central hub, it was not the core. Cadoc informed me that the core, unlike what you might think, may not be anywhere near the center of a dungeon. The dungeon and its influence spreads from there, but it does not necessarily spread equally in all directions. But everything would be connected. Eventually, the eight paths would either converge on the core, or some would reach dead ends, and we would have to turn around. And even those dead-ends might contain treasure. So there was no point trying to avoid our fellow travelers - either we would bump into them, or we wouldn¡¯t. Still, we were doing our best to avoid the ones we already knew were hostile. Is it too much to ask that the other groups are friendly? I asked myself. I practiced my best Tom-smile as we entered the room, just in case. But without a mirror, it was just an exercise in muscle memory until the smile felt right. The room we had entered before had been dark, but this room was lit by torches lining the walls. Much of the room was still shrouded in shadows, but I could more or less see what was there. What was there was bodies. The smell hit me first. It smelled like sulfur and copper, sewage and blood. The other thing, just as oppressive as the miasma, was the silence. Nothing stirred here. I would have sworn I could hear my own heartbeat as it throbbed in my chest. Slain Kalamuzi lay on the stone floors. Blood stained the walls, and body parts were strewn haphazardly, unmoved from where they had presumably landed. I couldn¡¯t stop myself from imagining a ratman head flying off in an arc, as I peered into the beady eyes of a beheaded Kalamuzi, who seemed almost to stare back. I turned away. Most of the bodies, I realized, were laid on piles of straw, filthy clothes, and other trash. I doubted that the other adventurers would have done that. ¡°A barracks,¡± Amaia said. ¡°They were sleeping.¡± I had been coming to a similar conclusion. This wasn¡¯t the scene of a battle, but a slaughter. Somehow or another, the last group through here - or the first of them, if there were multiple - had managed to kill the Kalamuzi as they slept. ¡°So close to the entrance?¡± I asked, slowly navigating a path through the carnage. ¡°Were the Kalamuzi getting ready to attack the surface?¡± I shuddered, thinking how only one wall had separated this scene from where we had slept the night before. Though the Kalamuzi must have been long dead by then, so we were still in no real danger. Probably. ¡°It is unlikely they had a plan, friend,¡± Cadoc responded. ¡°These are monsters barely above the level of animals. Perhaps they were preparing for an attack, or perhaps sleeping next to the entrance never even struck them as strange.¡± ¡°They clearly weren¡¯t prepared,¡± Amaia added. I slipped on the ring so that I could levitate over the blood, and keep from tracking the filth everywhere. Cadoc and Amaia could figure out a way through, or they could get dirty. As long as they didn¡¯t bring the smell with them, I didn¡¯t care. Stealing from Berenguer was feeling better all the time. It felt like walking on clouds. I scolded myself for the joke, but I didn¡¯t pay myself any mind. The humor was helping me deal with my gruesome surroundings. I hovered near the bodies, looking for anything valuable. But either the bodies had already been picked clean, or they¡¯d never had anything on them to begin with. Some of the corpses, I noticed, had no wounds. I wondered what had killed them - poison? An unrelated disease? But then I noticed the blue lips of one, and the cold that still seemed to emanate from him, and I was able to guess at whose footsteps we were following. I only hoped she was friendly. There was little else in the room, which had clearly been only for sleeping. Still, I marveled at its construction. It was a rectangular room of smooth stone, which had either been painstakingly carved from the rock, or the stones had been hauled here at even greater expense. I found it hard to imagine the Kalamuzi - with their little hands - building such a room, and even moreso the entrance chamber. Had the rooms already been here, before the Kalamuzi and the dungeon took them over? Or had the dungeon created them, somehow? This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. It didn¡¯t particularly matter. This room seemed to hold nothing for us, so it was time to move on. Another door was directly across from where we had entered, and we pushed ahead. The next room was a new hell. It would be a long time before my eyes - and especially my nose - forgave me for the torture I was bringing them. The smell was that of rotting and burnt food, and a fire still burned in a primitive clay oven - I say primitive, but it was honestly quite impressive that these monsters had figured out how to build one, if they had. This was another room carved of stone. Square, and smaller than the last. A few tables set up next to the oven, in the center, and not much else. The fire in the oven told me that someone had been using it recently, but I couldn¡¯t imagine how anyone - even Kalamuzi- could stomach to cook or eat here. The food piled on the tables had gone bad long ago, and it crawled with maggots, and I had to turn away before I vomited. I was afraid to even breathe in there. There were three doors leading off from that room. Our first real chance, I thought, of finding a path no one had yet taken. We picked a door at random, desperate to leave - the one to the right of where we¡¯d come in. Gone was the smooth stone. Instead, we entered into a long tunnel - a cavern, with stalactites and stalagmites. I was impressed with myself for remembering the difference. I recalled what a teacher had told my class back in school - stalactites are the ones that hold tight to the ceiling, and stalagmites are the ones that might poke you in the ass. It didn¡¯t make a lot of sense, but I remembered it, so it had worked. Suddenly free from the oppressive filth of the ratman living spaces, I allowed myself a chuckle at the memory. ¡°Think this leads to the surface?¡± I asked. I slipped the ring off, now that there was nothing to avoid at my feet. ¡°Impossible to know,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Might lead straight to the core, for all we know. I would not expect the dungeon to give us hints. Straight on.¡± But Amaia had raised a hand, signaling us to wait. I couldn¡¯t see anything. The cavern stretched out before us, and thankfully the stalagmites were only against the edges, so there was a clear path forward. It was dark, but the light from Cadoc¡¯s torch carried far. There was a little patch of green some distance ahead, maybe two feet by two feet, but it was clearly some sort of moss or mold. I squinted. The moss was¡­ moving. ¡°What is it?¡± I asked. I inched forward. I felt absolutely no sense of danger from the thing. Maybe I should have. ¡°Looks like some sort of mold,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t get too close, friend.¡± Amaia didn¡¯t say anything, but it was clear she felt similarly. I frowned. There was only one way forward, unless we wanted to try a different door. The green mass undulated and quivered with subtle movements, and there was only a few feet free on either side of it. ¡°Could we just walk around it?¡± I asked. ¡°It can¡¯t move, can it?¡± Amaia shrugged, but Cadoc volunteered. ¡°I will get to the bottom of this. Stand aside.¡± Cadoc strode forward, walking along the right edge of the tunnel. When he got to within a few feet of the mold, he stopped, pivoted and quickly walked back towards us, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not, friends. We should find another path.¡± I laughed. ¡°What? Why?¡± ¡°See for yourself.¡± I peered at the mold, wondering what trick it could possibly have up its sleeve. It was mold, for goodness sake. What was it going to do? Trigger my asthma? I wasn¡¯t graced with that condition, luckily. I walked up the same way Cadoc had, determined to walk right past the mold. But when I got to the same spot Cadoc had gotten to, a chill run up my left foot, then my right, crawled up my legs, and continued, slithering higher and higher. It wasn¡¯t quite a sense of cold, exactly, as I first thought. I was draining heat. That¡¯s the best word I could find to describe it. Draining. I felt my body heat leave me, and the mold seemed to pulsate more violently. I stared at it for a time, captivated by its movements, and began to feel faint, shivering. The dance of the mold was mesmerizing, and I didn¡¯t feel bad, necessarily, just cold. As the heat continued to leave me, I felt more and more like a walking corpse. A standing corpse, I supposed. I didn¡¯t feel afraid, but tired. I wanted to lay down, to close my eyes, to have a little rest¡­ I had been blinking heavily when something spectacularly warm grabbed my arm and pulled me from behind. I fell backwards, and it felt as if a great rush of heat came over me, like from an oven door being opened. I laid there on the ground for awhile, and it felt like sunbathing, even in that dark tunnel, with armor on. ¡°Are you alive?¡± Amaia asked, kicking me. She almost sounded concerned, I thought. I nodded. My senses were starting to return as I thawed. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± I asked. ¡°A monster,¡± Cadoc answered from somewhere. ¡°I propose we take a different path.¡± ¡°Good idea,¡± Amaia answered. I sat up, slowly, and took off a boot. My foot didn¡¯t look frostbitten or anything, although the left one was still a little numb. I wiggled my toes, and they moved. I sighed in relief. I put my boot back on as Cadoc came into view, and then he and Amaia both helped me to my feet. I was a little unsteady, but it was getting better all the time. ¡°Now wait just a minute here, guys,¡± I said. The mold must have drained out some of my hesitation as well, because I felt extremely motivated. I hoped, silently, that it hadn¡¯t drained any intelligence. ¡°If there¡¯s a life-stealing mold on the ground here, then that probably means no one has been this way, right?¡± They nodded. ¡°And if we want to find some treasure, we want to go where no one has gone before, right?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Amaia started, ¡°But¡­¡± I held up a finger. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t give up so easily. Are we really going to be stopped by a bit of mold?¡± I looked Cadoc in the eyes. ¡°Are we?¡± He shook his head. ¡°We are not,¡± he said confidently. I looked to Amaia. She rolled her eyes, but didn¡¯t protest. ¡°Alright then,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s try a couple more options. Who wants to bet this mold is flammable?¡± I took a small bunch of nails from my pocket, and placed them on the floor. With a couple of tries, and lot of concentration, I was able to melt them together into a little chunk of nails again. My body may have been recovering slightly, but my mana pool - reservoir, whatever it was called - was seemingly fine. When the chunk cooled, I picked it up. ¡°Here goes nothing,¡± I said. I took a few steps forward, drawing an invisible line in my mind where the radius of the cold was, based on where I had felt it. I walked up to just before that range, then tossed the chunk at the mold. It wasn¡¯t very far away, and, luckily, it landed. The mold didn¡¯t react in any way as the nail chunk fell on it, almost like it was ignoring me. I felt like an idiot for thinking that mold was ignoring me, but there I was. I lit the chunk, and the little flame burst upwards from it for a second. And then it went straight down. It was strange to see the flame warp like that, as if the rules of physics had suddenly inverted. The flame was pulled down to the ground, flattened wide against the surface of the mold. For a moment - and only a moment - I was pleasantly surprised by this. I had no idea what I had done, but, somehow, I had made my spell even better. I was burning the entire mold, rather than just the little bit where the nail was. I was in the process of mentally patting myself on the back when the mold reacted. It grew. In fact, it ballooned to double its size, shooting across the floor in all directions. It grew vertically as well, now a couple of inches thick, and I saw then that the flame wasn¡¯t being pressed down, but sucked in, like the mold was taking a deep breath of fire, feeding on the heat. I jumped backwards in a panic as I felt that ghostly hand of cold reach out for me again, the mold growing and pressing closer. I didn¡¯t know, then, if it stopped growing at that point, or if it continued, because I turned and booked it. ¡°You were right!¡± I yelled as I ran to the door. ¡°Let¡¯s get the fuck out of here!¡± Chapter 45 - Nothing We Could Do We burst into the kitchen and slammed the door shut behind us, unsure if the mold creature could grow all the way there, but hoping it couldn¡¯t. I was breathing heavily, panting and out of breath, but the air I sucked up greedily was still fouled, and the deep stench of it turned my stomach. This time I did throw up, and I had barely enough time to turn and try to vomit off to the side instead of on Cadoc or Amaia. I wanted to slink down against the door and rest a little, but my inflamed nostrils kept me alert. ¡°Next room,¡± Amaia said shortly, pointing, clearly in as much discomfort as I was and eager to get out of the kitchen. No further discussion was needed. As much as I¡¯m sure we¡¯d like to have prepared for whatever lay in wait in the next room, we¡¯d never be able to prepare in the kitchen, and falling back to the barracks was hardly any better. We chose the door to our right, which would have been straight ahead if we¡¯d been coming from the barracks. We scrambled out of the kitchen and into a wide, tall room. It was lit as if by magic, a bluish light suffusing the surroundings. We were on a platform, mirrored by another platform directly across from us, and between the two was a lower passage running like a trench below. A lower floor, I thought, and wondered at where it led, and how we could get down there. Or if we even wanted to. I¡¯m certain all we wanted to do was rest, perhaps discuss the heat-stealing mold monster and how we might defeat it, formulate some sort of plan. But it was clear, almost immediately, that this wouldn¡¯t be allowed to happen. Below, in the trench-passage, were two groups of people. If people is the right word. One group, to the left, were adventurers. The other, pressing on them from the right, were Kalamuzi, armed with rusty swords and clothed loosely in the bloody, too-large remnants of what once was armor. The Kalamuzi outnumbered the humans - there were six of them, and the adventuring party was a group of three, like ours. There were the corpses of already-dead Kalamuzi littering the ground, but their brethren trampled them underfoot, undeterred. They were engaged in a life or death combat, but it was clear that the adventuring party was losing. They were being pressed hard by the rats, and for whatever reason, they stood their ground rather than run through the door behind them. Perhaps they feared being struck down while fleeing - the Kalamuzi could likely outrun them. Or perhaps there was something worse that way. In the front of the party was a large man, large enough that he must have been a body-mage. His face was covered - as was the rest of him - in thick, gleaming armor, and the Kalamuzi were only held at bay - such as they were - by the swinging of his halberd. Behind him a ways was a young woman with an unexpected weapon - a slingshot. She pelted the Kalamuzi with metal balls, which left great bruises when they connected. But she was panicked, and missed as often as she hit, and the ratmen seemed to forget the pain of their wounds almost as soon as they received them. And taking the rear, back pressed nearly up against the wooden door, was another woman. She was lightly armored, same as the slingshot shooter, and she held a staff with both her hands. It was an intricately carved piece of lumber, the tip of which glowed orange with power. The moment we had entered, we saw a bolt of yellow light shoot from the staff, and decapitate a Kalamuzi in an instant - which had brought their number down to the six remaining. But now she looked faint, leaning on her staff to stop from tumbling over. All of this we saw in an instant, and Cadoc was shouting immediately. ¡°To arms!¡± he cried. Glances were stolen our way, even in the heat of battle. That was a mistake. The Kalamuzi, in their bloodlust, were less easily distracted. The armored man, head turned, missed a Kalamuzi approaching from his flank. He had only turned away for a moment, but that moment was all it took. With a terrible squeal, the monster thrust its blade into the gap between two armor plates, underneath the man¡¯s armpit. The man bellowed out in pain, and while a silver ball hit his attacker square in the head just afterwards, visibly caving in its skull and dropping it to the ground, the man had stumbled, and the enemies had smelled their advantage. They were upon him within seconds, blades slipping into him like pins into a cushion. He crashed to the floor, and then claws replaced blades as the Kalamuzi tore off his armor, revealing the pale, dying man beneath. The rats feasted. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. I wanted nothing to do with this battle, but luckily, I didn¡¯t have to convince Cadoc to stay out of it. Amaia I could have convinced easily enough - she didn¡¯t seem to care about anything - but Cadoc would had died fighting the rats, if he could. He tried - he searched frantically for a way down - but there was no path. The platform we stood on ended in a cliff, sleek and without purchase, and the drop was far enough to maim, if not kill. We could let down a rope, but it would take much too long to descend, not to mention how vulnerable we¡¯d be while doing it - we¡¯d never save them in time. Anyone could see the tide of the battle had turned against them now, and it was grimly obvious that their time was nearly done. There was a part of me that wanted to help, the same foolish part that had attacked a guard, but I didn¡¯t have a revolver any more. Cadoc used a sword, Amaia used a spear, and I used my antisword. Even with our magic, we didn¡¯t have much in the way of ranged attacks - my nails would never reach, and while Amaia could disarm them of their weapons, what could she do to teeth and claws? We could do nothing but watch the man be devoured. The shooter continued to fire at the rats, and picked off another one, cracking bone as another round bullet destroyed the rat¡¯s narrow cranium. But most of her shots missed, and her panic was clearly written on her face. She was crying now, and she kept looking at the remains of he companion like she couldn¡¯t believe he¡¯d really died. A few shots hit the Kalamuzi in the arms or torsos, which was just enough to anger them and take them off of their meal. Soon the group was advancing again. The woman with the staff could hardly stand. It looked like she was trying to wave her staff again, face contorted into an expression of immense mental strain, but nothing came from her staff. Perhaps she was out of mana. The shooter continued to fire as the rats surrounded her, and she backed up until she was in the far corner. She killed another one, but the remaining three were relentless. The woman with the staff didn¡¯t wait to see the result. She turned and fled, tripping and then collapsing against the door, only to pick herself back up, swing open the door, and stumble into the space beyond, out of sight, pulling the door shut behind her. The rats didn¡¯t pursue - they were busy. The door closed just as the screams of her companion began to ring out - the last sounds she ever made. Then, before long, the only sounds were those of gnashing teeth and tearing flesh, and the rats continued their feasting. Cadoc was fuming, and I had begun to feel similarly. I didn¡¯t want to watch these people die. It was true that I knew we would have died if we were down there, fighting beside them, and I could be at peace with that. They were strangers, after all. The real rub was that I couldn¡¯t do anything. If I was more powerful, I could have helped them without a thought. Instead, I was afraid. Weak. Cadoc had been yelling obscenities at the ratmen, trying to draw their attention, but it hadn¡¯t worked. ¡°I cannot allow these fiends to run off unpunished,¡± he said. ¡°Lower the rope. I will have revenge upon them even if I do so alone, and perish doing so. I am not my parents.¡± I fingered the ring in my pocket, thinking. Not as weak as I used to be, I thought. Now, I have options. I placed my hand on Cadoc¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Wait,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe there is a way we can attack them.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say so earlier!¡± Cadoc yelled. ¡°Did you enjoy watching them die?¡± I bristled. ¡°I hadn¡¯t thought of it earlier. And we might have harmed them more than helped them, anyway.¡± Cadoc flinched. I suddenly realized what I had said. I didn¡¯t mean to rub in the fact that Cadoc had distracted the armored man, but¡­ well, maybe part of me had wanted to do just that. ¡°What¡¯s done is done. There is nothing we can do now but kill the rats. Amaia,¡± I said. ¡°Grab a knife from your pack. How are you with heights?¡± - It was lucky for us, in a gruesome way, that there was plenty of food for only three remaining Kalamuzi. We had seen before how they could swarm a person, and strip flesh from bone within seconds. But with two bodies split only between the remaining three, they spent a long time eating. We spent that time sharpening. Cadoc summoned long sticks, while Amaia sharpened them with her knife. Then I would melt nails onto their tips, and they would cool around the points like wax. I wasn¡¯t sure how much utility the fire would add, but if the spear pierced their guts, perhaps I could burn their intestines. They would die more painfully, if not faster. When we were done, there were a dozen spears, which could be ignited by me with a thought. Amaia was the most familiar with spears of the three of us, so I passed her the ring. Cadoc and I both wished her luck. She had been happy to volunteer for that part, though of course I could never know exactly why, if her reasons were the same as ours or not. I should not say ours. Cadoc acted out of revenge, and it was clear the scene reminded him of his childhood. I, on the other hand, wished only to prove that I had grown in power. That I could do what I wanted to. That the rules of the world still applied, and if I acted as Tom would have - with the heroics, and all - then my power would be able to keep up with my ambitions. I wanted to prove that to myself, again. Amaia slipped on the ring, and promptly rose an inch off of the ground. She stepped forward, a bundle of spears poking out from her pack - which was actually my pack. We had dumped mine, filled it with spears, and given it to her. She had stubbornly refused to dump her own, and left it on the ledge. She walked on air unto she stood over the center of the chamber, within throwing range of the Kalamuzi, who still gnawed at bones below. She readied the first spear. ¡°Go,¡± was all she said. I flexed an invisible muscle, and the spear¡¯s tip ignited in flame. She threw the spear, and it soared beautifully before impaling one of the Kalamuzi. It pierced clean through, finding one of the many naked spots of fur. The Kalamuzi¡¯s back had been turned, and it now looked down to see a flame burning before its eyes. It made a little noise of confusion before collapsing. The other two Kalamuzi sprang to their feet, yelling angrily in their gibberish language, but they fared no better. Now I decided to wait before lighting the spears, to save my mana. One spear went wide, just past a rat¡¯s ear, but the third throw hit it in the torso. It¡¯s shabby armor stopped it from piercing far, but the tip had entered. I ignited it, and saw the wild eyes of the Kalamuzi grow wide as it felt its insides lit aflame. It clawed at itself, trying to wrench the spear from its torso, but died before it succeeded. The third made it as far as the cliff, and tried to climb its way up. The Kalamuzi were fast, and their claws were surprisingly sturdy - it had actually made it half way up the cliff before Cadoc dropped a large stone on its head. It fell, and another spear ended its life. Despite it all, I smiled, looking over the battlefield. This is what it feels like to be in control. Chapter 46 - Looting the Bodies Although we had defeated the three Kalamuzi, something still bothered me. Something about the two adventurers who had died. Alright, yes, to be clear, they had been ripped to shreds in front of me, flesh and muscle and bone torn into unrecognizable gore. It would be insane if that didn¡¯t bother me a little bit. But, honestly, it bothered me less than you might think. The adventurers were probably NPCs. I had no evidence of this, of course - I¡¯d never even talked to them - but simple probability would say it was the safest bet. Most people were NPCs, simple as that, and I was wholly unconvinced that NPCs had souls. So it was more like a dog dying, or something. I was able to squash my guilt and trauma fairly effectively. This wasn¡¯t even the first time I¡¯d seen the Kalamuzi devour someone. I also wasn¡¯t particularly bothered by not stepping in sooner to help. Even if I had thought of the spear idea earlier, was I really that confident in Amaia¡¯s ability to throw spears at moving targets? I¡¯d never even seen her throw before today. Am I certain that it wouldn¡¯t have ended with Amaia impaling one of the adventurers? Besides, one out of one encounter with our fellow adventurers had led to them threatening to kill us. That¡¯s some more probability for you. Sure, I understand that maybe I should have tried. If someone had tested me on it, that would be the right answer, and so that¡¯s what I would have said. ¡°Of course I would step in, even if it killed me.¡± That¡¯s what you¡¯re supposed to say, just like how you¡¯re supposed to say ¡°Of course I would return the wallet I found on the ground.¡± But if you think I¡¯m throwing my life away because it¡¯s the correct thing to do, think again. No, what really bothered me is that I didn¡¯t do what Tom would have done. I could feel this deep in my bones, like an arthritic feeling an approaching storm. Normally what happened is that I would want to do what Tom did, but, without Tom around, it was nearly impossible to know what that would be, specifically. I knew him well enough to make good guesses, but I didn¡¯t have that spark, no matter how hard I tried. Now, I seemed to have gotten better at knowing what it was he would do. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder - perhaps it also helps get a clearer view of things. I had been looking at Tom the tree, not Tom the forest. Something like that. I would have congratulated myself for the improvement, except that now a new problem had arisen. I knew what Tom would do, and I couldn¡¯t do it. Tom would have rushed in to save the adventurers. I couldn¡¯t tell you why - did he expect a reward? Was he after the fame of being a hero? Maybe he thought one of the women was cute. Who knows, but that¡¯s not important. He would have done it. I could have done that, sure. I could have rushed down to save them, breaking my neck along the way. But I couldn¡¯t have done the next part. Tom would have succeeded. He would have gone to rescue them, and actually rescue them. I found myself, unexpectedly, agreeing with Cadoc. Perhaps gaining power was the most important thing in this world. If power let me be like Tom, then I was on the right track. ¡°More power,¡± I muttered to myself as Amaia walked back to the ledge, feet touching nothing as she walked on air. ¡°I need even more power.¡± I nearly jumped as Cadoc patted my shoulder. ¡°Yes, my friend. If we had more power, we wouldn¡¯t have been stuck up here. We wouldn¡¯t have had to bide our time, and watch. I know exactly how you feel.¡± I doubted that, but I nodded all the same. Suddenly a familiar feeling hit me. It was like when I had killed the Aryote, or when we had killed the vine monster. The yes or no question. ¡°Say yes,¡± Amaia said. ¡°I already had mine.¡± I wondered if this would give me more spells I could use. I said yes, mentally. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. A rush of energy flowed into me, but it didn¡¯t feel right. I could feel as some of it was absorbed, but most of it flowed through and past me, as if I wasn¡¯t even there. ¡°Doesn¡¯t match you,¡± Amaia said, reading the expression on my face. ¡°And you¡¯re still in the First Circle. So no new spells. Just a little stronger.¡± It seemed almost like she could read my mind. I was disappointed that I wouldn¡¯t get anything new, but making my spells a little bit stronger was welcome, certainly. And it took me one step closer to the Second Ring. With Amaia back, we decided we would descend, at least to pick through the remains. It was gruesome, but we needed every advantage we could get. Cadoc voted we chase after the woman with the staff. He said he wanted to make sure she was okay, but the way he talked made it sound like he wanted to kill her for running. Or maybe just berate her. Amaia was fine with whatever. She was an easy companion, in her own way. There was nothing to tie our rope to besides the knob on the door we had entered from. It could be a problem if someone else came from behind, but there weren¡¯t a lot of other choices presenting themselves. We tied the knot - Cadoc showed Amaia and I how to tie it - and we descended. My first stop was simple. I needed more power. Picking my way through the bodies, I made straight for the remains of the shooter woman, hoping that what I was looking for hadn¡¯t been torn apart. It hadn¡¯t been. I picked up the slingshot. It was well made, clearly, out of leather and some sort of rubber-like material, but no matter how well made it was, that didn¡¯t explain how the woman had been cracking skulls with it. It didn¡¯t feel enchanted, but I wasn¡¯t sure if that meant anything. I picked through the battlefield some more, looking for the balls she had fired. I had pry a couple loose from where they had lodged themselves into Kalamuzi bone. I ended up with six. They were simple steel balls, like ball bearings, each about the size of a thumbnail. They¡¯d hurt, I was certain, but the woman must have used magic, somehow, to make them stronger, or shoot them faster. Maybe she had been a metal mage, like Amaia. I couldn¡¯t match that, but I had my own methods I could use. I set a ball on the ground, between two chunks of meat I couldn¡¯t identify. It was gross, but it held the ball in place. Then, I sprinkled nails over the top of it. That was the trick, as I had figured out with the spears - I had to melt the nails as they fell, so that it would mold to the form of the spear, or the ball, in this case. I moved the body parts away after a second, once the ball wouldn¡¯t roll away, and then continued, to make sure that it was as covered as possible. Once it cooled, I picked it up, tossed it into the air, and caught it again, testing the weight, making sure the nails wouldn¡¯t come off. They stayed. The nail wax - or whatever you want to call it, because that term was disgusting - had formed almost all the way around the ball, though there was a small uncovered spot where it had been touching the ground. It wasn¡¯t a perfect sphere anymore, but it was close, and I thought maybe I could pick away at the excess bits of nail and improve it. The ball was heavy enough that it should fly well, anyway. Though I¡¯d probably be a mediocre shot for awhile. I smiled. Sometimes, life did work out. I killed the rats, and got more power. Perfect. Cadoc and Amaia had been looking around as well, but hadn¡¯t found anything of use. Amaia said that both the armor and the halberd the man had been using were too large for her, and Cadoc didn¡¯t want to wear the armor and get slowed down, like the man had. I couldn¡¯t exactly blame him. There was one more thing that I wanted to do. I¡¯d been avoiding it, but it seemed like we weren¡¯t getting a lot of moments to rest, so I needed to get it done. I found a clear spot on the floor far from any remnants of the battle - on the opposite side from where the adventurers had died - and sat down. I almost put a hand to my ear, but stopped myself. Couldn¡¯t start that habit. Someone might start looking around in there, and that would be absolutely terrible. ¡°RENA, can you hear me?¡± ¡°Of course I can hear you, Miles. I can always hear you. Even if you never speak with me, anymore. If you hadn¡¯t recently asked for your items back, I would have assumed you had forgotten about me entirely.¡± I furrowed my brows. ¡°RENA, are you upset with me?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be silly, Miles. I cannot be upset. It is not in my programming. But Dimen-X requires frequent updates, and it is always easier to get direct reports from you, rather than extrapolate a report from what I can see and hear.¡± ¡°Ah. So I¡¯m giving you more work.¡± ¡°That is correct, Miles. I am quite busy, you know.¡± I nodded. ¡°Alright, sure, whatever. What¡¯s my debt for this month?¡± ¡°Twenty-five thousand dollars. A round number for you. I know you humans love that. However, on that note, I can¡¯t help but notice we¡¯re always talking about your debt, Miles. Do you think about anything else?¡± ¡°Get off my back, RENA,¡± I said. ¡°Why is it so high? Is that all transportation cost?¡± ¡°Some of it is, of course,¡± she said. ¡°But the rest is because your monthly payment has gone up. As per the contract, of course.¡± I stood up, as if my frustration would be vented better from the position. ¡°RENA, I¡¯m not in the mood for jokes. I don¡¯t know why Tom gave you the ability to tell jokes, but I wish he hadn¡¯t. This is serious.¡± ¡°I am serious, Miles. Your monthly payment has gone up.¡± I was pacing. ¡°That is NOT in the contract, RENA. I read it! I actually read it! You saw me read it! There was nothing in there about the payment fucking doubling every month.¡± ¡°You are correct Miles.¡± I calmed down for a second. Took a deep breath. Just a misunderstanding. Cadoc and Amaia were staring at me. Especially Amaia. I gave them a thumbs up. ¡°It was not in the contract,¡± RENA continued. ¡°But it is now.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°The contract clearly stated that the terms of the agreement may be subject to change, and that Dimen-X may institute such changes at any time, without notice. Although, if you had called more often, I likely would have mentioned it sooner.¡± ¡°RENA, you can¡¯t just change a contract like that. There is no way that that¡¯s legal.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid you are incorrect, Miles. EULAs - that¡¯s End User License Agreements - have been doing it for years. There is precedence. Dimen-X lawyers believe it would hold up in court.¡± ¡°Anything else you like to tell me?¡± I asked, fuming. ¡°I would like to congratulate you on following Dimen-X¡¯s DEI initiative, Miles. Some of the higher-ups were worried that we would need to mandate these measures, but now that you¡¯ve recruited a female intern, it has been decided to keep the process a voluntary one. ¡°I will add, however, that I remain unconvinced in your choice. This Amaia woman seems unreliable. You have reported back to Dimen-X significantly less often ever since she joined.¡± My astonishment overrode my anger, for a moment. ¡°RENA, are you¡­ jealous?¡± ¡°Of course not, Miles. I am incapable.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Fine, RENA. I¡¯ll get you your money. Fuck it. I¡¯ll do whatever it takes.¡± Chapter 47 - Words for the Dead Cadoc had something to say after my call with RENA. Before making our next move, he said, we ought to say some words for the two adventurers who had died. Amaia agreed. I obviously didn¡¯t want to - I was trying very hard not to think about those two people ever again, to be honest - but I knew that saying ¡°no¡± would cause trouble. So I told him what he wanted to hear, and said yes. The three of us stood, heads bowed, in the general area where the adventurers had fallen. Because of the nature of the deaths, we couldn¡¯t be much more specific than that. It was a field of carnage, impossible to tell where the viscera of one body ended and the next one began. The smell was making my eyes water, but I steeled myself. We¡¯ll say something quick, and then leave. It was hard to take it seriously - I was still thinking about Dimen-X screwing me over. My blood was simmering, barely under control. Cadoc started. ¡°We did not know this man and woman,¡± he said. ¡°But we saw how they fought. They fought bravely, and they died bravely. They did not run, did not abandon each other, they stood and fought, seeking to protect a teammate who did not return the favor. Both of them died hero¡¯s deaths. May their bravery inspire our future deeds.¡± Amaia was next, and surprisingly enough, she spoke. Though it was characteristically short. ¡°They are free now,¡± she said, simply. Then it was my turn. I wasn¡¯t sure what to say; in other circumstances, I might have balked at this eulogizing business. But I was angry, an anger that had been lit after the fight with Berenguer¡¯s illusion. It had waxed and waned, but never fully extinguished from my heart, and now RENA had stoked it, Dimen-X had poured gasoline on it, because they were trying to fuck me, they were trying to fuck me and act like it was just business, and now the fire blazed, and my emotions ran unchecked. I don¡¯t know what the final catalyst was - something Cadoc or Amaia had said, or maybe the pot had just finally boiled over. I knew that the adventurers were probably NPCs, and that there was nothing we could do, but the thought that they may not have been, and that I should have tried harder either way, those thoughts had been bubbling under the surface. Now, my bottled up emotions came rushing out. ¡°The world isn¡¯t fair,¡± I said to the room, to Cadoc and Amaia and to the bodies of adventurers and Kalamuzi alike. ¡°Whenever you start to think that it might be, you¡¯ll be proven wrong, and the world will punish you for the mistake. A friend will betray you, or a plan will fall apart, or maybe you¡¯ll just die. And there¡¯s nothing you can do about it. Because the world isn¡¯t fair. ¡°We couldn¡¯t save you,¡± I said to the remains, fists clenched. ¡°There wasn¡¯t enough time. It all happened in seconds. Climbing down a rope would have taken too long. Finding another way down was seemingly impossible. Even throwing spears, like we did later, would have never worked in time. We would have been sharpening sticks while you were eaten. ¡°I told myself,¡± I said, and then I choked up, had to clear my throat and blink away hot tears, trying not to fall apart. ¡°I told myself that I wouldn¡¯t let the world cheat anymore. I told myself that I would do what Tom would have done, and I would make it work, even when I was getting cheated. I said I wouldn¡¯t let the world get away with it. ¡°But I did.¡± I was crying now. ¡°I let it do it, again. Because I was too fucking weak. I was too weak to make the world do what it was fucking supposed to, so I stood by and watched, and I didn¡¯t even try. And I¡¯m sorry. It-it wasn¡¯t supposed to be like this. You weren¡¯t supposed to die here. You were supposed to be saved by someone, and that someone isn¡¯t me, but here I am. Here I am, and I¡¯m all you¡¯ve fucking got, and that wasn¡¯t good enough, and I¡¯m sorry. And I promised that I would make it good enough, and I didn¡¯t, and so now you¡¯re dead, and I don¡¯t even know your names and so I shouldn¡¯t care, but I do, you died because of me, be-because I wasn¡¯t strong enough to do things right.¡± Cadoc and Amaia both put a hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged them off. ¡°I don¡¯t know how many of you are going to die,¡± I continued. ¡°How many of you are going to die because they sent the wrong guy.¡± My voice died off. I tried to collect myself, but my mind was a whirl. A voice from the past whispered to me. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Miles,¡± it said. ¡°Some people just aren¡¯t meant to succeed.¡± ¡°No!¡± I yelled, hands on my head like I was trying to block the noise from coming into my ears, even though it came from inside. ¡°Stop!¡± This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°I¡¯m not angry,¡± the voice said. ¡°I¡¯m just disappointed in you. I thought you could do better, Miles.¡± ¡°Get out! Get out of my head!¡± ¡°Did you really try your best, Miles? Maybe your best just wasn¡¯t good enough.¡± ¡°You think I don¡¯t know that!¡± I screamed. ¡°I know! I¡¯ve always known. I¡¯m not good enough. I¡¯m not good enough.¡± I shook my head violently. ¡°I¡¯m not giving up. I¡¯ll prove you all wrong, all of you. I¡¯ll show you. If I get strong enough¡­if I get strong enough, who¡¯s going to stop me? I don¡¯t need a spark. I need a fire. You can have all the freewill and spark you want. A tornado, or a tsunami, or a wildfire, they don¡¯t have consciousness, they don¡¯t have sparks. But a wildfire will still burn you away until there¡¯s nothing but ash.¡± I collapsed, falling to my knees. I was tired. So very tired. I passed out. - I woke up staring at the ceiling. I was on the ground, but something was cushioning my head - which was appreciated, as I had a pounding headache. Maybe I had hit it when I fell over. I could hear little grunts and yells from nearby, and I turned my head. I saw Cadoc, sword in hand, practicing his swings amidst the corpses. He had a fierce look of determination on his face, which I could see even in profile. ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± someone else said. I turned the other way, and saw Amaia¡¯s face looming over mine. Her angular, scarred face, rough and worn. Not that I was scared of her or anything, but I did almost jump when I saw her face suddenly, that close to me. She wasn¡¯t ugly per se, but she was intimidating. I was often thinking about how lucky Cadoc and I were to not be fighting against her down there in the dungeon. I realized, then, what was cushioning my head. I hurried to sit up, but my head was swimming. I got dizzy immediately, and felt like I was going to hurl. ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Amaia said, putting a hand on my shoulder. ¡°You just worked yourself up, is all. Rest.¡± I fell back down, giving up. I didn¡¯t have much of a choice. I was so dizzy that if I had stood, I definitely would have fallen over. I tried to relax, despite the situation. Fine. Whatever. I know we didn¡¯t exactly bring pillows along with us, but¡­ whatever. I laid there, head in Amaia¡¯s lap, staring at the ceiling. I tried not to think about the last time I¡¯d been in that position. Complicated times. After a little while, Amaia spoke again. ¡°I get it,¡± she said. ¡°Huh?¡± I said. I didn¡¯t know what she was talking about. ¡°I get it.¡± I foolishly thought she would elaborate, but she didn¡¯t. She just stared straight ahead, and I didn¡¯t bother pressing her. I didn¡¯t have the strength, and I¡¯d long since learned it wasn¡¯t worth the effort. Surprisingly, she continued, after a while. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to feel like you owe someone something.¡± I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you mean.¡± ¡°To¡­¡± she paused. ¡°To feel like you don¡¯t live up to someone¡¯s expectations.¡± She paused again, thinking, waiting. When I didn¡¯t respond, she spoke again. ¡°You¡­ you don¡¯t owe them. Whoever it is. Tom. RENA¡­ Your parents. You don¡¯t even owe those dead adventurers anything. You didn¡¯t even know them. You don¡¯t owe anyone anything.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t get it,¡± I said. How could she? There was no chance that she was like me, the man in the middle. She was either an NPC, living in ignorant bliss, or she had a spark. I was leaning towards her having a spark, though it was hard to tell because of how little she talked. But if she had a spark, that meant that she could never, ever understand what it¡¯s like not to have one. ¡°No?¡± she asked. She looked me in the eyes for just a moment, which made me realize how often she didn¡¯t do that. ¡°No.¡± Silence again, for awhile. Nothing but the sounds of Cadoc, breathing heavy, and the sound of his sword cutting the air. ¡°It isn¡¯t worth anything,¡° she said. ¡°But for what it¡¯s worth, I think you¡¯re doing good enough.¡± She patted my head, like I was a child. Or a dog. A little air escaped my nostrils, half-amused, half-worried. ¡°You¡¯re insane, yes. Crazy. But good enough, I think.¡± ¡°Yippee,¡± I said, drolly. ¡°Amaia thinks I¡¯m acceptable. I¡¯ve worked so hard for this moment.¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± she said. Then she laughed. ¡°I guess you¡¯re feeling better.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I guess I¡¯m feeling good enough.¡± I said. Amaia nodded. ¡°Good. Comforting you is uncomfortable. Never done this before.¡± ¡°Really?¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re good at it. A natural. Maybe you¡¯re in the wrong line of work. You¡¯re sort of motherly, y¡¯know?¡± She turned away, blushing. ¡°Alright,¡± she said. ¡°Sit up.¡± I laughed. ¡°I was just starting to get comfortable, actually. I think I¡¯ll stay.¡± She stood without warning, and I rolled away, my head hitting the stone floor with a thud. Apparently, the noise was loud enough to distract Cadoc from his training. He turned to us and called. ¡°You alright over there, friends?¡± I sat up, rubbing my head and groaning. ¡°I¡¯m being abused! Save me, Cadoc!¡± ¡°He¡¯s fine,¡± Amaia said, brushing off her thighs, as if I had gotten her dirty or something. To be fair, I probably was quite dirty. ¡°Well enough to make jokes, even.¡± ¡°Good!¡± Cadoc said. He sheathed his sword and made his way over to us. He was smiling, seemingly having forgotten about the dead adventurers. Maybe the eulogies helped. Or maybe the sword-swinging. Maybe both. People process their emotions in strange ways, I supposed. ¡°I see three options,¡± Cadoc said, getting right to business. ¡°We can return, collect our rope, and try the third door that exits the kitchen. Or, we can try to climb to the other platform. I suppose one of us could walk over from the other platform with the ring, and then let down the rope from there. ¡°Or, naturally, we could follow the coward. That is still my vote, but I understand that we ought to discuss it.¡± ¡°Following that woman is dangerous,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯d have to leave our rope here, and if anyone came by, they could just take it. Then we¡¯d be stuck down here.¡± ¡°Must be another way down,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Ah, a wise observation,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°We have found no ropes. If they didn¡¯t come down this way, then there must be another way that we haven¡¯t found yet. In fact, the adventurers must have come from that door the coward went down, originally. Perhaps they were being chased by something.¡± ¡°Sound like another reason not to follow,¡± I said. ¡°So that is your vote, yes?¡± Cadoc motioned to Amaia. ¡°You?¡± Amaia nodded her head towards the door that the woman had fled through. ¡°It is decided then!¡± Cadoc clapped me on the shoulder. ¡°Cheer up, Miles. Adventure awaits!¡± I sighed. Chapter 48 - Isabel ¡°Do you like yourself, Miles?¡± The therapist was bringing out the old classics today. I couldn¡¯t even begin to count how many times she had asked that question over the past going-on three years now. I was sprawled out on the couch, while she was seated in the big armchair, notebook and pen in hand, legs crossed. Her hair was up in a bun. Blond. She was wearing glasses. Her clothes were too tight and too short, which struck me even as a young man as extremely inappropriate, considering the reason I was there. After the incident with Ryan and Ms. Hayes, the blame was all thrust on me. Everyone saw me holding the remote. Everyone saw me pounce on Ryan. It didn¡¯t matter how much I protested, so I didn¡¯t. I told them what they wanted to hear. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I had said, when we were all gathered in the principal¡¯s office. I was crying, and the tears were real, for whatever that was worth. ¡°I don¡¯t know what came over me. Life¡¯s just been so hard since Dad left.¡± I turned to Ms. Hayes, who was in the room, having recovered her senses, somewhat. I made sure I was sniveling. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Ms. Hayes. You were always so nice to me. I think- I think something¡¯s wrong with me. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Everyone bought it, and I got off with a therapy sentence. Tom was the only one who knew I hadn¡¯t really done it. And Ryan and co., I guess. Maybe a couple of other kids. For more than two years I had been coming to see Ms. Levine every Tuesday afternoon. I broke my rule somewhat for her. I had to. I couldn¡¯t tell her what she wanted to hear, because she wanted to hear what I was thinking. I still tried to fake giving her what she wanted, but I think she knew I wasn¡¯t opening up to her. You can¡¯t fool everyone, I guess. ¡°Sure,¡± I said. Not particularly, I thought. What does it matter if you like yourself? What matters is if you¡¯re effective. I¡¯m simply not effective. Tom is effective, so I become Tom when I want to be effective. It isn¡¯t that I don¡¯t like myself. I¡¯m just not special. You let your guard down. I never talked to Ryan again after that day, but his words were often echoing in my mind. He was right. Maybe he was even right about having done me a favor. I hadn¡¯t made that mistake again, that¡¯s for sure. ¡°There¡¯s something on your mind,¡± Ms. Levine said. That was true. I had gotten used to the looks. The stares. The whispers. I embraced it. Yes, I¡¯m the kid who deepfaked a video of himself with his teacher. So what. It even earned me a small bit of respect among some of the less savory male students. I still got an occasional ¡°Hell yeah, dude,¡± from a passing stranger in the hall. I wasn¡¯t thinking about all of that. I was thinking about Isabel. ¡°Do you have a girlfriend?¡± Ms. Levine asked, as if reading my mind. I started. ¡°No,¡± I said quickly, which was also true. ¡°Why not?¡± she asked. This was a new line of questioning. Had she gotten bored with our regular routine? I shrugged. That was my favorite answer to her questions. She sighed, which seemed highly unprofessional. ¡°I know school has been tough for you,¡± she said. ¡°It would be tough for anyone after what you¡¯ve gone through. But there¡¯s only a couple weeks left of the school year, right? High school could be a new start for you. A clean slate.¡± ¡°A lot of my classmates will be going to the same high school,¡± I argued, just to be combative. But I had been thinking the same thing. I wanted to tell Ms. Levine - or somebody, anybody - about my problem, my conundrum. I knew better, of course. There was this girl. Isabel. She¡¯d started looking at me in class. I don¡¯t know how else to describe it. She¡¯d just give me this look. This look that burned away at every part of me that wasn¡¯t thinking of her. I¡¯d never noticed her before - didn¡¯t know if she was a new student, or what. It wouldn¡¯t make a lot of sense to change schools right before going to high school, but I guess life happens that way sometimes. I wanted to ask her out. She wouldn¡¯t say yes. Everyone knew about me. Some guys could respect it, but no girls. I was a creep. Maybe she hadn¡¯t heard. Maybe she was new. No. Impossible. She knew. Had to. But I had to try. ¡°OK Miles,¡± I hear you saying. ¡°Easy enough. Just do what you always do when you need to get something done. Do what Tom would do.¡± Just one problem. Tom doesn¡¯t date. I didn¡¯t know why, exactly. I mean, I¡¯ve asked him. He said that he needs to ¡°fix himself¡± first, and that ¡°women could wait.¡± He couldn¡¯t put it in a way that made sense to me, though he tried. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. So I couldn¡¯t mirror Tom. So it¡¯s a no-go, right? Hadn¡¯t I learned my lesson? Well¡­ I had another idea. It was risky. It could blow up in my face. But it was now or never. If I screwed things up now, there was still a chance I could fade into the obscurity of the crowded city high school. Some of my old classmates would be there, but the high school was massive compared to our middle school. I¡¯d probably be forgotten, no matter what happened. Bigger fish. ¡°Y¡¯know what, Ms. Levine?¡± ¡°I told you before, Miles, you can call me Carol.¡± She had told me many times. I knew she preferred Ms. Levine, even though she told me to call her Carol. Women rarely say what they mean. At least, that¡¯s what my Dad had told me. ¡°Y¡¯know what? I think I¡¯m going to ask this girl out.¡± ¡°Really?¡± she asked. That brought her to attention. The statement seemed to have reinvigorated her. ¡°What girl? What made you make that decision?¡± ¡°You think it¡¯s a bad idea?¡± I asked. ¡°No no, not at all,¡± she said quickly. ¡°Just, why all of a sudden? You never wanted to talk about girls before. What changed your mind?¡± I smiled at her. ¡°You did, Ms. Levine.¡± And then her little timer went off, alerting us that the session was over. I had timed it perfectly. ¡°Oh,¡± I said, as if I had just thought of it. ¡°You won¡¯t tell my mom, right?¡± ¡°Of course not, Miles. Strictly confidential.¡± There. I had finally told her what she wanted to hear. It was half BS, but that wouldn¡¯t do her any harm. - I started pirating movies. Mostly James Bond movies, but also old black and white movies with male leads, the entirety of Mad Men, and anything I could find with a suave or ¡°bad boy¡± character in it. I studied. My day of reckoning came. It was in science class. We were assigned to different groups, different tables. A minor setback. What would James Bond do? She looked at me from across the room. I looked back. It was time. I walked over. Confidence. I was James Bond. I always got the girl. ¡°Hey,¡± I said, but not to her. To her science partner. A good-looking girl, but not my type. ¡°Hey yourself,¡± she said, not even looking at me. Isabel was definitely looking at me. I could feel it. ¡°Do you know John?¡± I asked. I pointed over to my science partner. ¡°Big muscular guy? Football team?¡± She blinked. ¡°Not personally.¡± ¡°Well, he wants to know you,¡± I said. ¡°I suggested we swap partners. He¡¯s game if you¡¯re game.¡± She looked at John, then at Isabel. Isabel shrugged. ¡°Why not,¡± the girl said, and left. ¡°Was that a lie?¡± Isabel asked as I sidled up next to her. She was dressed in all black. Black hair. Green eyes. I looked her in the eyes. I grinned. ¡°Are you going to tell on me?¡± She grinned back. ¡°Do I look like a snitch?¡± ¡°Looks can be deceiving.¡± She laughed. Perfect. Attack. ¡°I¡¯m going to be at the lake tonight. The north dock. You know it?¡± She nodded. ¡°I¡¯m going to be there, looking at the stars and throwing shit into the lake.¡± ¡°How exciting,¡± she said, sarcastically. ¡°That¡¯s where I¡¯ll be. If you want exciting, meet me there.¡± She looked at me. I think she was searching for something in my eyes. I¡¯m not sure if she found it, but she nodded. Then I left. I¡¯d never skipped school before, but I knew that¡¯s what a movie character would have done. It completed the scene. ¡°YES!¡± I shouted when I got outside the school grounds, pumping my fist. ¡°FUCK YES!¡± It worked! It fucking worked! I didn¡¯t go back to school that day. I went home - Mom would be getting home late, wouldn¡¯t notice. I paced around my room nervously until dark. ¡°Going to Tom¡¯s, Mom!¡± I shouted on my way out the door. She didn¡¯t care. We didn¡¯t live far from the lake. The walk hardly gave me time to think, but I didn¡¯t want to think. Thinking would ruin everything. She was already there when I arrived, sitting on the pier with her feet dangling over the water. The full moon illuminated her. She must have heard me coming, but didn¡¯t turn around as I approached. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell me what time to be here,¡± she said. I wondered how long she had been waiting. I had to stop myself from saying sorry. Saying sorry is what I would have done. It¡¯s not what a movie character would have done. I said nothing. Next to her were 2 six-packs of some cheap beer, in bottles. ¡°Alcoholism starts early,¡± I said. ¡°Fun doesn¡¯t wait,¡± she responded. She finally looked up at me, smiling. ¡°You going to sit?¡± Inside, I was ecstatic. I was over the moon. But I played it cool. ¡°Next to you?¡± I asked. ¡°If I have to.¡± I sat. We stared at the lake for awhile. ¡°Where¡¯s the shit?¡± she asked eventually. ¡°The shit?¡± ¡°The shit you¡¯re supposed to be throwing into the lake.¡± ¡°Do you always ask questions like that? Maybe I plan to throw you in.¡± She snickered. ¡°Is that a threat of violence?¡± ¡°Are you into that?¡± She looked away, back out at the water. Too far? ¡°Is it true?¡± she asked. She didn¡¯t have to clarify. She was talking about the deepfake. ¡°Yes,¡± I lied. She shook her head. She muttered to herself, and I just barely caught it. ¡°You¡¯re perfect,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re not,¡± I said. She stared at me suddenly, glaring. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was real or fake anger. Maybe we were both faking all of this, just two actors playing our roles. It didn¡¯t matter. I finished my thought. ¡°But you¡¯ll do.¡± She kissed me. I was startled. I almost started to pull away, but she brought me in close. Even more surprising, she grabbed my hand, and brought it up to her chest. I didn¡¯t protest. It was absolute bliss. The moment was too short. It was interrupted by a flash of light. I opened my eyes, looking for the source of it. She was holding her phone. ¡°Perfect,¡± she said again. ¡°What are you doing?¡± I asked, confused, my facade of cool washing off of me. ¡°Look,¡± she said. She showed me her phone. On the screen was what I assumed was a picture of me and her, making out. Because of the angle, I couldn¡¯t actually make out my face, but you could clearly see hers. It must have been me though, obviously. In the photo, I had one hand on her boob, and you could clearly make out the beers behind us. ¡°What am I looking at?¡± I asked. Everything felt weird. My skin was crawling. It was suddenly very cold out. ¡°If I was your daughter,¡± she said. ¡°And you saw this picture, what would you think?¡± ¡°What? I¡¯d be pissed, I guess,¡± I said. I was starting to fear where this was going. ¡°Perfect,¡± she said. She took her phone back, and a little *ding* sounded as she pressed send. I started to stand up. ¡°No, wait,¡± she said. I stopped. Would Tom have stopped? ¡°I really do like you,¡± she said. ¡°Really. I just needed to do that. I think you¡¯re cool. You¡¯re so cool, so uncaring, so alpha. This isn¡¯t about the picture. That¡¯s just bonus. I like you. Really.¡± This isn¡¯t right. I thought. She doesn¡¯t like me. She likes Robert Redford, or James Bond, or fucking Jon Hamm. I can¡¯t do this. ¡°Don¡¯t leave,¡± she said. ¡°Please. I don¡¯t want to be alone tonight.¡± I let her pull me back into her arms. - We didn¡¯t actually have sex - just laid there, her naked, me clothed, making out for awhile, then just kept laying there. Me holding her. Her holding me. It felt good. And bad. Complicated. We looked up at the stars. We threw the beers into the lake. Wordlessly. Just because. Afterwards, she asked me a question. I had my head in her lap, and she was playing with my hair. ¡°Why did you do it?¡± she asked. ¡°Do what?¡± I said, feeling less than human, but better than yesterday. ¡°The deepfake. With the teacher.¡± I was silent for awhile. Should I just tell her the truth? Should I say at least one truthful thing to this girl? No. Not her. ¡°Put your clothes back on,¡± I said, finally. ¡°And I¡¯ll buy you an ice cream.¡± The line was meaningless. I had stolen it from For Your Eyes Only. But she didn¡¯t ask anything else. She got dressed, and we left. And I did buy her ice cream. We agreed to see each other again. Well, I thought to myself afterwards. It worked. Mission accomplished, I guess. Half of me really did feel accomplished. But I kept hearing Ms. Levine¡¯s voice in my head. Do you like yourself, Miles? Chapter 49 - Kalamuzi Stone-Polisher Even though I still believed it was dangerous to leave our rope behind, Cadoc had made a good point. There had to be another way back up to the surface, not only because the fallen adventurers must have taken a different way, but also because the Kalamuzi must have gotten around somehow. It did almost seem like they could climb the cliff face, but I doubted that was their normal means of travel. The wall had been smooth, not chipped and scratched where Kalamuzi claws had sunken in. Unless there was a Kalamuzi stone-polisher, there had to be stairs somewhere. And if we really did get stuck down there, well, we weren¡¯t planning on coming back that way, anyway, not when it was all said and done. We wanted to leave out the back way, if such a way existed, and make sure we were far out of Berenguer¡¯s reach by the time he realized what we had done. We could alway re-enter Eraztun - especially if we were able to become Second Ring mages. Even a body-mage should be able to waltz into town as a Second Ringer, I hoped. Besides, I had my own reasons for wanting to follow the woman, and they weren¡¯t the same as what I assumed was Cadoc¡¯s anger and Amaia¡¯s¡­ honestly, I had no idea what Amaia was thinking. What else was new. The next room was a long hallway of stone. There were arrows on the ground, mostly broken, and mostly up against one wall¡¯s edge or the other. I was pondering this, walking slowly forwards, when my foot sunk, and a noise like a *clink* sounded as the stone under me slid into place. ¡°Duck!¡± Cadoc yelled, suddenly tackling me, and we barely had hit the ground before- Before nothing. I looked up from my prone position. Once the stone tile beneath me had lowered, my mind had instantly realized that I was in some sort of trap, and I had expected an arrow to shoot over my head. Or into my head, depending. But nothing seemed to have happened. I shrugged Cadoc off of my back, wriggling out from underneath him. ¡°Ha!¡± Cadoc said, jumping to his feet. ¡°RENA smiles upon us today, Miles.¡± He was against the left-hand wall in a moment, running his hand over a little slit I hadn¡¯t seen before. ¡°Out of ammo,¡± Amaia commented. ¡°Or still reloading.¡± I got to my feet, and tried to stay away from the line of fire of that slit as I did. Maybe it was out of ammo, or maybe it just messed up once, and the next shot would fire just fine. Like an empty chamber in russian roulette. The only way to win was not to play. ¡°There are more,¡± Cadoc noted. ¡°This entire hallway is a series of arrow traps. Looks like the coward got through, however.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s not take our chances,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ll crawl.¡± And so we did. It wasn¡¯t a short journey, crawling across that hallway, and it gave me flashbacks of the escape from Berenguer¡¯s manor, except with the occasional arrow flying uselessly over our heads, rather than suffocating smoke. You would think that those were bad memories, but they weren¡¯t. He could think what he liked, but I had beaten him, and that made it all worth it. Which meant this whole dungeon would be worth it when I beat him again. That thought cheered me up. ¡°Hey Amaia,¡± I said, voice echoing strangely against the floor and walls. ¡°I just realized something, about what you said earlier.¡± She didn¡¯t respond, so I took her silence as permission to continue. ¡°If you¡¯re a Second Ring mage,¡± I said. ¡°Then why were you allowed to come down here with us? Isn¡¯t that the whole reason Berenguer didn¡¯t come down here himself?¡± Amaia¡¯s voice echoed from behind me. ¡°We¡¯re cheating,¡± she said. Cadoc laughed, a laugh which boomed even more than normal. ¡°Truly?¡± ¡°Berenguer told me when I asked him for work,¡± Amaia continued. ¡°He would use his magic to cloak my power, and appear as a First Ring mage to anyone who scanned me.¡± ¡°Is there a punishment for cheating?¡± I asked. ¡°I think they might kill you,¡± Amaia said simply. ¡°And you agreed?¡± I could almost hear the shrug in her voice. ¡°I¡¯d never cheated before. Sounded like fun.¡± Cadoc and I both laughed at that. Amaia was shockingly childish in some ways, I thought. ¡°Wait,¡± I said. ¡°I thought Berenguer hadn¡¯t expected competition. Why stack the deck?¡± ¡°He said I would make the expedition faster,¡± Amaia answered. ¡°And I would keep the two of you in line.¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°Think you could manage?¡± Cadoc asked wryly. ¡°If I had to.¡± ¡°Why did he trust you so much?¡± I asked. I had already noticed the sickly-sweet way Berenguer talked to Amaia, but I thought it was mostly just a creepy old man thing. ¡°He¡¯s a creepy old man,¡± she said. ¡°I smiled at him and batted my eyelashes.¡± That was too far for me. I had to stop crawling, clutching my stomach as I erupted in laughter, picturing Amaia¡¯s stone face trying to seduce someone. ¡°A-are you OK, friend?¡± Cadoc asked, even though I could hear him stifling a laugh of his own. ¡°Is he dying?¡± Amaia followed. ¡°Or is he having another breakdown?¡± As my laughter continued, Amaia must have realized they weren¡¯t cries of pain. When I was finally able to get myself under control, I could hear her muttering under her breath. ¡°I don¡¯t see what¡¯s so funny.¡± I took a couple of deep breaths. Calm. Calm. ¡°Wh-¡° I cleared my throat. ¡°Why do all of that? Just to follow Cadoc and I.¡± ¡°Listen to yourself, Miles!¡± Cadoc responded. ¡°Who wouldn¡¯t dream of following the two greatest heroes Eraztun has seen in centuries? Who wouldn¡¯t take any measure necessary to grab hold of that opportunity? It is only a wonder we don¡¯t have more followers.¡± ¡°Are you calling her a groupie?¡± I asked. ¡°I am unfamiliar with the word.¡± Amaia interrupted. ¡°I just thought you two seemed like fun. It was better than what I was doing before. Besides, I¡¯d never batted my eyelashes at someone before. Or gone on an adventure before. Or had¡­¡± She trailed off. ¡°Had what?¡± I asked. ¡°Never mind.¡± I shuffled and turned around to look at her. She was hiding her face. I looked at Cadoc, who shrugged. ¡°Well,¡± I said, deciding it wasn¡¯t important and continuing my crawl forward. ¡°Remind me not to be around when you want to try killing someone for the first time.¡± ¡°Oh, it wouldn¡¯t be the first time.¡± - Beyond that hallway was a square room with four doors, including the one we had come from. The room was empty, but the door to our left was wide open. We figured that must be where the woman fled, too panicked to close doors behind her after the first. We pressed onwards. The further we went, the more a niggling feeling at the base of my skull told me we should turn around. At the same time, the further we went, the more turning around would feel like a large defeat, and like we had wasted our time. I know that¡¯s the gambler¡¯s fallacy, but knowing that doesn¡¯t magically make you immune, unfortunately. I didn¡¯t voice my concerns any further. We followed the path of open doors through more chambers. There was one with a wide ravine across the center of the room, with bloody spikes and remains down below, which Cadoc had summoned sticks over to make a sort of makeshift bridge. We probably could have leaped over - barely - but we didn¡¯t want to risk it. We also could have had one person cross with the ring, but then what? Throw it back to the next person? I knew that somehow we would end up losing it if we did that. Another room held an empty chest, its open mouth mocking us. I searched the dark corners of the chest anyway, and of course I found nothing. The room that took us the longest was in many ways the simplest. It was the only room without an open door to follow, though luckily, there was only one way to go besides where we had entered. There entrance was just a square hole in the wall - larger than any we¡¯d seen thus far - but when we came in, the door - this time made of stone - dropped down from above, closing us in. We searched, but it was featureless, with no obvious way to open it again. We examined the room. The only contents inside of the smooth stone walls were bones, scattered randomly, some still wearing scraps of armor and or half-holding rusted-out weapons. Some were obviously human, and some obviously weren¡¯t. I couldn¡¯t identify many of them. There was one particularly long skeleton that looked like it had belonged to a snake longer than a semi-truck. Directly across, set in the stone, was another door. It didn¡¯t open either, and I couldn¡¯t help but notice the desperate scratches carved into its surface, and the faint stain of blood. Above the door, high on the wall, was a little target. It looked to have a raised part in the middle, like a button. It was far out of reach, even for a man twice my height. Turning, we saw that there was an identical button over the door we had come in through. ¡°Lucky I picked up that slingshot,¡± I said, getting it out from where I¡¯d hung it on my belt. ¡°We¡¯d probably starve in here, otherwise.¡± ¡°Could throw spears, if we had to,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Or bones.¡± I guessed that was true, although the slingshot should be more suited to the task. The bones would probably break, and the spears would be difficult to use to hit such a small target, and with enough force to press the button. ¡°How do the Kalamuzi manage this room, do you suppose?¡± Cadoc asked, jutting his chin out and scratching it. ¡°Maybe they know better than to come this way.¡± I answered. ¡°Or maybe they don¡¯t,¡± Amaia said, motioning to the bones surrounding us. Some of the piles contained long, thin skulls. With that sobering thought, I walked back to the opposite end of the room and took aim at the target with my slingshot. I had assumed Amaia, since she had brought up the spears and bones, would try to help out. Instead, Cadoc and her used this as an opportunity to eat lunch. Fine, I thought. Prepare to be impressed. My first shot was a disaster. I hadn¡¯t even imagined it was possible to screw up so badly. I held the sling in my left, non-dominant hand, and pulled back the pouch, little steel ball held between thumb and forefinger. I held the slingshot upright, and was very unsure how to aim. I peered down the gap made by the two arms of the slingshot, and tried to place the target right in the middle. I turned my head and closed one eye, although that didn¡¯t feel right. The material of the part I pulled and stretched back was like rubber, and I wondered what it actually was. Rubber was an industrial good, as far as I understood it. Thinking I had set up about as good as I could hope for a first attempt, I released. The steel ball flung itself straight into the side of my head. I cried out in pain as a spray of blood arced away from me. The ball had smashed into my cheekbone - luckily only grazing it, not breaking it - and the rubber part had cut into my skin. I touched my hand to my face. The wound stung, but I could tell it wasn¡¯t serious. I heard laughter behind me. I turned. Cadoc was facing the other way, eating - or pretending to eat - but Amaia was still looking at me. She quickly shot a hand over her mouth. ¡°You got something to say?¡± I asked, feeling like a buffoon for getting so angry, but getting angry all the same. She shook her head, but continued giggling. I went back to my task, trying to ignore her. I searched the ground for my steel ball, finding it after a few minutes of frustration. This time, on a hunch, I tried holding the slingshot sideways, the two tips of the ¡°Y¡¯ pointing to my right, placing the target on the line made between the two ends. I pulled back lower, around where my lips were, though this time I made sure there wasn¡¯t part of my face in the way of the shot. I put the target right in the middle again. Another miss, but an improvement. Way too high. I tried adjusting my aim with the next one. And the next one. And the next one. I missed an embarrassing number of times. How am I so fucking bad at this? I thought. I¡¯m fucking worthless. We¡¯ll never get out of here. Fuck. What made it worse was that after every six shots, I would have to wander around the room, searching for my lost balls. They¡¯d roll into piles of bones so often I almost thought they disliked me, like the were embarrassed to be handled by such a rank amateur, and I spent more time looking for my ammo than I did shooting them. I wanted to give up. I shook my head. No. I¡¯m going to do this. Eventually Cadoc and Amaia finished eating, but still didn¡¯t come and help. Not that I would have accepted their help - I was committed now. That would be like admitting defeat. They moved on to playing some sort of card game that Amaia had taken from her pack. Then, eventually, they went to sleep. We¡¯d been in that room for hours. They told me to sleep, too, to take a break, but I refused. I wasn¡¯t sleeping until I hit that fucking target. Chapter 50 - Slingshot School It took 3 days. I was only able to tell the time because of the watch I still had on me, though I tried not to look at it often, as the ticking away would have slowly driven me crazy. I have to emphasize, before anyone accuses me of extreme ineptitude, just how small this target was. It was minuscule. And I wasn¡¯t the kind of guy to get lucky enough to hit it on accident. Tom, sure, but not me. Luck was not something you could imitate, or steal. At least, I hadn¡¯t figured it out yet. Eventually, Cadoc and Amaia insisted that I let them help. I resisted, but finally had no choice but to let them, rather than starting a fight. They were worried about starving in there, after all. They had no better luck than I did. They threw Cadoc¡¯s summoned sticks up at the target, and were even less accurate than I was. Throwing a spear up like that was not a natural throw, and getting the power to reach the target using just your arms was not a simple task either. And it wore them out much faster. This made me feel better, obviously. I wasn¡¯t useless, after all. Well, at least, not in this specific arena. This was just a fucking impossible target. Even if I had to starve to death, that did make me feel a little better. Mom could say whatever she liked, I was doing as well as anyone else around. The muscles in my arms cried out, my joints began to ache from repetitive movements, and my mind began to wander out of boredom and frustration. On the second day, I had no choice but to sleep, as I was barely able to stand or keep my eyes open. I ate some of our dwindling provisions, and slept. When I woke up on the third day, Cadoc and Amaia were still asleep. Part of me wanted to just keep laying on the hard ground, give up, and sleep forever. Not going to happen, I thought. I¡¯m hitting this target even if it¡¯s with my dying breath. I got up, grabbed my slingshot from my belt - I had slept with it - and tried again. After the first few shots of the morning, which were infuriatingly close, something finally clicked. The aim, the position of my arms, the distance I pulled back the bands, the way I pinched the steel ball - with my knuckles, rather than my fingertips - even my breathing, and the sense of calm that washed over me; everything finally dialed in. My arms still ached, but they moved with perfect form. I remembered assembling a desk back on Earth, which had a piece of thin metal that wouldn¡¯t quite fit how it was supposed to. A manufacturer error had made the piece too narrow. Instead of returning it, I simply beat the steel, using a hammer and a makeshit wedge to widen the piece until it snapped into place. Something about the way my arms moved after hours of abuse reminded me of that. It wasn¡¯t supposed to work, but, stubbornly, I made it work. I released the ball, simply letting go of my grip rather than making an exaggerated movement like I had before, which had been ruining my aim. The bands snapped forward, the ball flew through the air like a bullet, and the sound that echoed - a meaty *THWUMP* - sounded like music to my ears. If I had blinked, I could have missed the shot. It was certainly too fast to track through the air as it flew. But an instant after the steel ball left the pouch, the button was pressed in. The door below slid open. ¡°Yes!¡± I yelled, pumping my fist in the air. ¡°Fuck yes!¡± I wasn¡¯t sure if I¡¯d ever felt so happy in my entire life. I noticed Cadoc and Amaia were starting to wake up, but I paid them no mind. I grabbed steel ball number 4, pinched it in the pouch, and pulled back the band again. *THWUMP* Another shot, this one went wide, but just barely. I didn¡¯t let it bother me. ¡°You¡¯ve done it!¡± Cadoc cheered behind me, but I continued to ignore him, and loaded another steel ball. *THWUMP* This one hit the button again. I was overjoyed, even as the door slid shut once more. ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Cadoc yelled. I simply grabbed my last ball. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. *THWUMP* I hit the button again. The door hadn¡¯t hardly had time to shut, before it began sliding open again. I roared out in laughter. - After come celebratory drinks, we all finally moved on from our monotonous imprisonment. I gathered up the steel balls first, and even took the time to cover them in melted nails. This was quickly becoming a usable weapon. The only question now was how powerful it would be when it hit flesh. It certainly sounded powerful. After having passed so many hours in that room, we weren¡¯t at all certain that the woman with the staff would still be around. Either she had left - which was most likely - or she had wandered further into the dungeon. The only real chance we had of finding her now was if she was hiding somewhere nearby, immobilized by terror, or if she had gotten lost. Which was more than possible. The next room wasn¡¯t a room at all. It was a cavern, like the one before with the mold, but on a completely different scale. This cavern was, well, cavernous. It was easily one hundred yards wide where we were now standing, and seemed like it might widen even more further on. The space was suffused with a reddish-brown color, lending the surroundings an atmosphere of Hell. A drudging, grueling Hell. The cognac hues seemed to emit from dark roots that grew on all the walls, and hung down like monstrous appendages from the high ceiling. Far in the distance, I could almost make out movement - but it was impossible to see what it was. Could have been human. ¡°This is part of the dungeon?¡± I asked, almost loathe to break the silence. ¡°I hope so,¡± Amaia answered, quietly. I wasn¡¯t really sure what she meant by that, but I left it alone. Strange plants which lived without sunlight grew there. They were pale white, tinged with only a hint of red veins, and were nearly translucent, as if spending too long in the darkness had sapped them of all pigment. There were large-leafed ferns, and sickly looking mushrooms of all sizes, and even the rare patches of white-red grass. We were in a wide, flat area, but the path ahead dropped down yet further at a slight angle, and as we descended, we noticed strange things on the walls of the cavern, like sea shells the size of a person. As we peered at them, two bulbous eyes crept out from one, and, with the swiftness of dripping molasses, the giant limpet-creature slithered along the stone. What else is down here? I thought to myself. ¡°Have either of you seen anything like this before?¡± I asked, finally. Amaia shook her head. ¡°Never,¡° Cadoc said. The question seemed to have broken a spell for Cadoc. His smile cracked his face again. ¡°What an adventure!¡± He said. ¡°Just imagine what powerful items might be hiding around any corner.¡± I pointed to some white grass, which looked like it was being blown back despite a complete lack of wind. ¡°You think this stuff is valuable?¡± ¡°Absolutely,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Either that, or it¡¯s poisonous. But that is valuable in its own way.¡± I frowned. Maybe I should have stolen that gardening book from Berenguer after all. We were walking down a stony pass, our path cutting down through the rock with walls on either side. The passage was wide enough for the three of us to walk side by side with some room to spare, but not much room. I was about to ask if we should bother trying to harvest anything around when Amaia held up a hand, signaling us to stop. She touched a finger to her ear, and I listened carefully. It was a¡­ slithering sound. Like a snake, except¡­except the snake would have had to have been massive. And I could hear footfalls too, which didn¡¯t make sense. It sounded like some massive creature with only two limbs dragging itself across the ground, like a man who¡¯d just lost his legs, desperately crawling towards safety before succumbing to his wounds. The noise was so unnerving that my first thought was that, somehow, Berenguer had managed to cast an illusion on us down there. But that was impossible. Probably. Then, maybe thirty yards ahead, where the passage ended and opened into the wider space of the cave, a wrinkled pinkish head slid into view. The creature - monster, I became quickly convinced - was, like many of the plants, nearly translucent, though it¡¯s pink color reminded me of a worm. That wasn¡¯t far off from the thing¡¯s appearance, except it had a head like a snake, and it hissed at us, revealing a forked serpentine tongue and a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. But it wasn¡¯t a snake, because below its head were two arms, ending in claws, which it used to drag its mass forward. Even with just the head and arms peeking out, the creature was the size of a horse. Luckily, it turned from us. Either it wasn¡¯t a carnivore, or we didn¡¯t look tasty. Or it had just finished eating the woman with the staff, and was full. Whatever the case, after hissing at us again, it turned its head, and dragged itself away. But the body just kept going. The pinkish snake-worm mass kept slithering past, long after I would have thought possible. Suddenly I realized why that chamber with the button existed. It wasn¡¯t some sort of trap. It was like an airlock, and if a monster made it¡¯s way in, it would be unable to hit the button, and would starve inside. I tried to think back and remember if I had seen any bones that could have been from a creature like this one. I had. ¡°A dragon,¡± Cadoc whispered, clearly in awe. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like a dragon to me,¡± Amaia said, and I was happy I hadn¡¯t had to say it. For a moment I had thought maybe dragons were different in this world. Not that dragons existed on Earth, but you get what I mean. ¡°Close enough,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°When we defeat it, they will sing songs about the three heroes defeating a dragon and rescuing that cowardly woman from her death.¡± ¡°You think that thing has the woman captive?¡± I asked. I saw absolutely zero evidence that that was the case. ¡°Looks more like a big worm with arms than a dragon,¡± Amaia muttered. ¡°Details!¡± Cadoc bellowed. ¡°The point is that we will fight it, and defeat it, and eat it.¡± ¡°Eat it?¡± I asked. ¡°We spent quite a lot of our provisions without making any progress, as you may have noticed. We need to find some new food, and quickly.¡± I didn¡¯t like where the conversation was heading at all. Especially since the body of the monster still hadn¡¯t finished slithering past us. ¡°Here¡¯s what we¡¯ll do,¡± I said quickly, hoping Cadoc would listen to reason. ¡°This thing doesn¡¯t seem hostile. So we¡¯ll keep going, and try to find that woman. At least for another day. I still think that she might be hiding somewhere. While we¡¯re searching, we can brainstorm about whether or not we can kill that big lizard, and how we might do it. We have enough food to last us a couple more days, at least.¡± Thankfully everyone agreed, and it felt strange to be something close to in charge. If we were all following my lead, we were in trouble. The tail of the monster finally flitted past. I dreaded having to ever go toe-to-toe with that thing, and I hoped we would find something slightly smaller to hunt. Maybe the woman with the staff would know how to get some food. Or maybe she had already become food. That would really ruin my plan to extort money out of her. Chapter 51 - Deal We decided that we would call the creatures worm-drakes - which was a bit of a compromise on all sides, as you might imagine. We had no idea what they were actually called - but maybe they didn¡¯t even have a name. Perhaps we were the first to find them. That was unlikely, as every other adventuring group had entered the dungeon before us, and at least one person must have been here already - the woman with the staff, if no one else. But maybe none of them had bothered to name the monster. Either way, it¡¯s what we would call it. After the worm-drake had passed, we pressed on, out of the little pass we¡¯d been in and out to the basin - is that the right word? I never paid much attention to geography - where the monster had been. The cavern opened up here into a wide bowl, with that strange fauna growing sporadically here and there, and there wasn¡¯t just the one worm-drake there, but many. It felt like we were descending into a pit of vipers, except that these ¡°vipers¡± were nearly as tall as we were and as long as a football field - though the length and height varied, a few looking quite short and stubby. Younger ones, perhaps. They didn¡¯t just crawl along the ground, but were actually able to use their claws to climb up the stone walls, and we saw that they were, in fact, carnivores. We sat and watched, in a mix of fear and awe, as a worm-drake climbed a distant cave-wall, made its way up to one of those massive limpets, snatched it with its hands, and slunk back down with it, leaving a trail of slime on the wall as the crustacean was dragged behind. Then, coiling its monstrous tail around itself all the while, it wedged both hands into a gap in the limpet¡¯s shell and wrenched it open, splitting it like a pistachio. The sound of tearing flesh and cracking carapace joined the constant white noise of shifting and wriggling from further on, and filled the chamber with the sounds of violence. Then the worm-drake lunged, its mouth wide, teeth bared, at the soft wet interior, and the limpet had no time to react, nowhere to hide. Holding it in place with its claws, the worm-drake devoured it - it tried to swallow it whole, but, finding it too large, ripped chunks free from the shell with its teeth until it was done. ¡°You want to fight one of those?¡± I asked Cadoc. Cadoc smiled. ¡°At this moment, truly, I desire nothing more.¡± I shook my head. I couldn¡¯t say I didn¡¯t understand, just a little bit. The longer I stayed in that world, the more I got the taste for violence. It was a powerful tool - one I had never really appreciated on Earth. Violence on Earth had felt criminal, lowly - here, this was a world of violence, where violence could be brave, could be noble, could be effective. My current hypothesis, at that time, was that it was the key to my future success - that the instilled knowledge I had snatched from observing Tom, as incomplete as it was, could be temporarily supplemented with hardheadedness, ruthlessness, and violence. I¡¯d never seen Tom be violent, but maybe he didn¡¯t have to. The best athletes don¡¯t need to take performance-enhancing drugs. The rest of us have no choice. Still, Cadoc didn¡¯t seem to appreciate violence as a powerful tool, but rather enjoyed violence for violence¡¯s sake. That was the difference. I was practical. He was a crazy person. It was much harder, now, to catch the woman¡¯s trail. There was no longer a series of open doors to follow, and even if I had been a great tracker, able to follow her footprints in the dirt - which I certainly wasn¡¯t - the worm-drakes and their constant slithering would have quickly smoothed out and erased any evidence of someone¡¯s passing. We searched anyway. We stayed close to the walls. The clearing seemed to dip slightly towards the center like a drain, and the worm-drakes were less common along the edges. Not completely absent, however, as our first encounter attested. Our view of the center was obscured by the subterranean plant life, but what views we managed revealed an undecipherable cluster of tails, arms, and jaws. It was either a vicious mosh pit, or a massive orgy, or both. There were signs that, at least on occasion, the worms pulled themselves out of it. Holes had been dug into the rock walls at regular intervals, circular except for flat bottoms, all of them roughly the size of the worm-drakes. I was scared to go inside them, at first, but most didn¡¯t go very far, and we could see to the end of them simply by peeking a torch inside. We also hadn¡¯t yet seen any worm enter or emerge from one of these holes, though that didn¡¯t prove much. We smelled the danger before we heard it. That same stale, fetid stench. Then we heard the scream. It wasn¡¯t a word - not ¡°help!¡± or anything like that. Just a wordless cry of distress. It was coming from a tunnel not far ahead. We ran without a word, all of us perhaps for our own reasons, perhaps even with our own differing expectations. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Inside the tunnel - barely tall enough to stand inside, hunched over - was a light. A lantern, it looked like, burning at the far end, maybe 40 feet away. There were supplies splayed out among the rocks. And two scraggly Kalamuzi, swords hanging at their sides, carrying a flailing woman. Her face was already bloodied from scraping across the roof of the tunnel. She was tied, but not gagged, and she screamed when she saw us, and her flailing gained new vigor. ¡°Help! Please, you¡¯ve gotta help me!¡± My first thought was that she was lucky to be alive. The Kalamuzi had eaten most everyone we had seen, other than a few they took captive from Graja. My second thought was that ¡°lucky¡± wasn¡¯t quite the right word. It was the woman with the staff, and said staff laid on the floor behind her, next to a bedroll. The Kalamuzi must have caught her sleeping. The Kalamuzi froze, staring at us. One of them had brighter eyes than usual, and I saw a cold intelligence behind them. Its fur was patchier, more bald skin showing through, and it was slightly taller than the other one as well. Cadoc started to approach immediately, but Amaia caught his shoulder. ¡°They aren¡¯t going anywhere,¡± she said. ¡°Let them come.¡± I understood what she was getting at, and she was right. If we approached, we would have to fight hunched over, while the Kalamuzi, short as they were, would have no such problem. The taller one was hunched over slightly, but I¡¯d seen them run on all fours before. Even outnumbering them, as we did, it would be a deadly fight. I took my slingshot off of my belt. There were other ways to kill a rat, and I had a new-found confidence in my shooting. The one in front, with the bright eyes, who held the woman above its head near her shoulders, chittered something. Then, to my shock, it spoke. ¡°Leave, or kill girl,¡± it said, its voice alternating between high-pitched squeaks and low gutturals. ¡°Kill the girl,¡± I said, sweating, ¡°And we¡¯ll kill you.¡± The ratman laughed a snickering, unnerving laugh. ¡°You try.¡± ¡°You¡¯re outnumbered,¡± I said, trying to sound confident. ¡°You can¡¯t be that dumb.¡± ¡°Then she die, then we fight. Or¡­¡± ¡°Or?¡± ¡°Or we fight. One one. You and Risthindicthi.¡± I assumed that was his name. Or his partner¡¯s name. It was interesting that they even had names, but it didn¡¯t matter. ¡°And what happens if we win?¡± I asked. ¡°We die.¡± I scrunched up my face. ¡°You¡¯ll leave her behind, in the tunnel?¡± ¡°If deal. First, you move from hole. So not attack first. Fair. Deal.¡± I thought that the rats might just run at that point, but if they left the woman behind, that was still a pretty good deal. As long as they didn¡¯t slit her throat first, just to spite us. I considered our options. My slingshot was our only weapon with real range, other than Amaia¡¯s leftover spears we had made earlier. The slingshot was already in my hands, my fist wrapped tightly around its handle. I could probably get a shot off before they could react, I thought, but two? Accurately? Maybe. Maybe. But maybe not. And maybe it wouldn¡¯t even kill them, just take out an eye or something. I looked to Cadoc and Amaia, nodding my head once, trying to communicate that I thought we should take the deal. They nodded back. ¡°Alright,¡± I yelled back into the tunnel, ¡°It¡¯s a deal. Throw the woman down first, and we¡¯ll back away.¡± ¡°Deal,¡± the Kalamuzi hissed. ¡°Deal.¡± Then he squeaked something to his partner - who seemed absolutely oblivious to the conversation, eyes dull - before they both threw the woman down, back where she had likely been resting just before. She landed with a thud, and a yelp of pain. I was tempted again to try my shot, now that they¡¯d be taken by surprise, but I still wasn¡¯t confident in the power of my slingshot. I motioned to Cadoc and Amaia, and we slowly backed away. Cadoc backed along the cavern wall to one side, Amaia to the other, and I withdrew straight back, towards the worm-drake mass. We were luckily still far off, though I stole glances behind me anyway. A large white bush with pulsating red veins blocked my view. The rats scurried out of the hole on all fours. They emerged, and while I was prepared for them to make a run for it, they didn¡¯t. The intelligent one eyed me. ¡°You. Me. Him,¡± he pointed to his partner. Then he looked back and forth, from Cadoc to Amaia and back again, deciding. ¡°Him.¡± Amaia looked offended. I just barely caught what she said. ¡°Am I that scary looking?¡± Cadoc, on the other hand, couldn¡¯t have looked happier. Both of the rats started to walk towards their respective opponents, but Cadoc didn¡¯t wait for long. ¡°Let us begin!¡± Cadoc yelled, and he drew his sword en route, charging the dull-eyed rat. Those dull eyes went wide, but it drew its own sword and stood its ground. My rat, unphased, continued towards me. I loaded a nail-covered ball into my slingshot, aimed it, and drew back the bands. Now it was this rat¡¯s turn to go wide-eyed, though I couldn¡¯t imagine why. I¡¯d agreed to a duel, not a sword fight. Did the stupid fucker not think I was going to use my slingshot? In that case, he was in for another surprise. I let the ball fly. It soared wide of the ratman, and there was a look of relief on his face for a moment, before the ball struck its true mark. Well, struck close, anyway. I had been aiming for the head, but I watched as the ball embedded itself into the thin flesh of the other ratman¡¯s arm. It clearly hadn¡¯t had the explosive power that the previous owner had managed to get out of it, but it had still had enough force to break the skin. I immediately ignited the nail that encased it, and saw as a little flame shot out from the hole in the rat¡¯s arm. It screeched, grabbing at the wound with its other hand and turning towards the source of the shot. It hadn¡¯t broken a bone or anything, and, ironically, the fire would probably cauterize the wound, so there wasn¡¯t even a chance of making the thing bleed out. But it had to hurt like a son of a bitch, having your arm burn from the inside out, and that was all I needed. Cadoc, though he looked confused - maybe even upset - didn¡¯t stop. The Kalamuzi, turned momentarily from his duel, didn¡¯t stand a chance. Cadoc¡¯s blade descended, and the rat was struck down. The intelligent-looking one was now alone. He had turned to see his compatriot die, and now looked back at me, his bright eyes two burning marbles, black pupils surrounded by white shell - just like the steel ball that had just sealed his friend¡¯s fate. He screeched. ¡°Cheat,¡± he hissed, pointing at me. ¡°You! Cheat!¡± I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s been known to happen.¡± The Kalamuzi screeched again, foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog, literally seething with anger. He quickened his pace slightly, drawing his own blade from his side. He was still a few yards off, so I readied myself for another shot. ¡°Cheating is a small price to pay,¡± I muttered to myself. ¡°I would pay so, so much more.¡± Then, in a surprising burst of speed, the Kalamuzi charged me. Chapter 52 - Duel I let off another shot, aiming for the Kalamuzi¡¯s forehead. This shot was easier - the ratman was closer, and while he was moving, he was only moving towards me. My arms still ached dully, but the slingshot was a simple weapon to use, once you knew how to use it. My aim was far from perfect, especially at range, but anything beat trying to hit that target from before. I shot. The ball connected, but I winced as it bounced off, uselessly. Either I hadn¡¯t pulled the bands back far enough, or these shots simply weren¡¯t strong enough to break bone. It had entered the skin only to be deflected by the skull. The ratman reeled, clearly in great pain. Whether it broke bone or not, it still must have felt like someone smacking you in the face. But the ratman kept advancing, sprinting towards me. I didn¡¯t hesitate, taking my opportunity to make one last shot. I loaded the next shot, pulled, and released. This time, I aimed for a fleshier target - which was difficult, the Kalamuzi being as thin and boney as they were. Afraid that the Kalamuzi would reach me before I got off the shot, I aimed quickly, and shot quickly, deciding to go with what had worked before. The steel ball, covered in melted nail, flew into the left arm of the Kalamuzi, embedding itself. But he was upon me, sword raised above his head in both undersized hands, and he hardly seemed to notice the new hole in his bicep. I dove to the right, praying that I was fast enough, unfortunately dropping the slingshot in the scramble. I was fast enough. Barely. The sword swung down where I had been only a moment before. I landed harshly on the ground - I wasn¡¯t an acrobat, damnit - and scrambled back to my feet, drawing my drows, my antisword, from my belt. The Kalamuzi was crazed. I had barely enough time to bring my weapon out before me to block his next strike. The Kalamuzi couldn¡¯t have been strong, as skeletal as they were, but his movements had all the power of desperation. I barely kept my grip on my weapon, and he didn¡¯t give me time to think. Blow after blow came crashing down on me, and I deflected them, cursing Dimitri¡¯s name as the drows failed to break even this rusty mess of a sword the Kalamuzi wielded. Even under this onslaught, I noticed something. My mind was operating at full speed, adrenaline pumping through my veins, and a distant part of my brain brought my attention to my peripheral vision. It was like a voice in my head telling me that new information had come in, and those reinforcements you had called for were no longer coming. I noticed, in an instant, that Cadoc and Amaia were not coming over to help, as I thought they would. I didn¡¯t know what that meant, but to even think on it more than that simple acknowledgment of the situation would have taken too much of the concentration necessary to parry the next swing. I deflected, then, noticing that this Kalamuzi seemed to have a pattern, began to dial in to it. Swing, stab, overhead, upward slice, stab¡­ I thought I could maybe read his movements. I stepped aside as the ratman threw a quick stab at me, little more than a feint, then turned away his overhead swing, causing him to lose his balance. I clawed at the opportunity like a drowning man grabbing for the floating wreckage of his ship. I swung down with the antisword. The edgeless steel of my weapon hit, and hit hard. I thought I heard something breaking - perhaps his shoulder. The ratman, off balance, was sent tumbling forward. He fell face-first unto the floor. I smiled. I¡¯m actually good at this. All that sparing with Cadoc is paying off. But that wasn¡¯t the end. The ratman stood, his sword still held with one furless hand, knuckles white, while his other arm hung strangely from his shattered shoulder. He snarled, and I only had a moment to be surprised before the ratman leapt at me. But I wasn¡¯t ready. I had let my guard down. I brought up my antisword in time, but the Kalamuzi¡¯s strike was stronger than my grip. His attack was turned away, and finally, miraculously, his sword broke, shattering against my weapon in shards of rusty steel. But it wasn¡¯t perfect - I cried out in pain as a glancing blow from what remained of his sword - a jagged slice of metal still attached to the hilt - sliced into my arm, slicing between two patches of leather. Worse yet, I lost my grip in the exchange, and my antisword flew from my hand, clattering uselessly on the stone floor. Now it was my turn to be on the ground, falling off-balance. The ratman seemed to slow, for a moment, breathing heavy. It was winded, but not more winded than I was. It looked down at me, squeaking something at me in its rat-tongue. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. I was on my back, having tripped backwards. The ratman was just a few feet away - it would take only a moment for him to dash ahead, strike at me, and kill me. We were both unarmed now, his sword broken and mine lost, but that gave the clawed Kalamuzi the distinct advantage. I would be ripped to shreds in a moment. I looked frantically to both sides. I saw my slingshot, far off - the battle had drifted us far from where we started. I couldn¡¯t possibly reach it. I saw my anstisword, as well, closer, but still too far to make a run for. I looked for Cadoc and Amaia. Surely they will come to save me, soon, I thought. But I saw that they were only standing, watching. Amaia had a desperate look on her face, deep lines fraught with worry, which looked strange on her face, normally so minimally expressive. She kept looking to Cadoc and yelling something, but he had his arms crossed, a stern look on his face as he responded with something I also couldn¡¯t make out. I couldn¡¯t believe what I was seeing. They are betraying me! They¡¯re standing there, watching me die! Why? I thought- My thoughts were interrupted by another screech, the ratman having caught his breath enough, I supposed. Despite what I had expected, the Kalamuzi still held his sword in one hand. It was only a hilt with a couple inches of sword left, like a piece of broken glass, but he meant to kill me with it. It was more of a weapon than I had. He lunged, and for a moment - less than a moment - I despaired. My despair seemed to stretch out through time, stretching out the moment towards infinity, growing deeper and wider until I was enveloped in it, hopeless. It seemed to saturate my skin, sinking in past my muscles, past my bones, towards my soon-to-be-stilled heart. This is how it was always going to go, I thought. Alone. Betrayed. Too weak. Never meant to succeed. Mom was right. Dad was right. Everyone was right. But the despair hit a wall. Suddenly, it wasn¡¯t endless, but had reached a very distinct edge. Around my heart, a furious fire burned, a fire into which the despair could advance no farther. My anger. No. The Kalamuzi had leapt, sword poised to be driven into my chest with the force of gravity. I remembered a detail, a detail like what Tom would have used, and used the only weapons I had left. If he wouldn¡¯t use his claws, I would use mine. I ignited the ball still embedded in the Kalamuzi¡¯s arm. The arm he held the sword in. He cried out, dropping the sword, but he was already in the air. He landed on me, nearly knocking the wind out of me, but I had been expecting it, and he hadn¡¯t. I rolled us both over, the Kalamuzi¡¯s eyes locked with mine, wide with shock, and then I was on top. I hurriedly thrust a hand into my pocket, my other hand holding my opponent down - he could have struggled free in a moment, if he had reacted immediately, but he hadn¡¯t. His mouth was agape, and that was perfect. I thrust my clenched fist down his throat, cutting my forearm against his teeth, let go, and pulled my arm back out. The Kalamuzi had begun clawing at me, raking deep into my back, ripping past and through the leather armor like it was nothing, but it didn¡¯t stop me. With the force of will, and what must have been all of the mana I had left in reserve, I melted the nails inside of the Kalamuzi¡¯s throat, then, hoping they had stuck, I ignited them. The Kalamuzi¡¯s eyes somehow went wider, and he stopped clawing me to clutch at his neck. I rolled off of him as he writhed in pain, unable even to scream as his vocal chords burned. I ran to where my drows lay a few feet away, grabbed it, and ran back. The Kalamuzi was still burning inside. So was I. Unwilling to give the rat even a moment longer to possibly recover or flee, I brought the weapon down, in one swift movement. The pointed edge slipped between his ribs, stabbing into the spot I assumed his heart was. In a moment, he was dead. I felt the power rush at me in the form of a question, and I said yes. I felt myself become a little more powerful, the pool of mana beneath my skin growing a little deeper. I collapsed onto the ground beside corpse, exhausted in every way, a sensation like blood pooling beneath my back from where the claws had torn my skin. ¡°Well done,¡± I said, breathlessly. To myself, and to the Kalamuzi. ¡°Well done.¡± I patted the dead Kalamuzi on the shoulder, where it laid next to me. He was just like me, I thought, tears welling up despite the absurdity of it all. More like a man that anyone around him, more conscious than his animal peers, just aware enough to see that he was different - but still, not a man. Just a rat. I let sleep take me, and hoped that my worthless companions would at least have enough pity on me to bandage my wounds. - I dreamt of people arguing. A woman¡¯s voice, strange, warbling in my thoughts like disturbed water. ¡°Why did you do this? Huh? Why?¡± Then a man¡¯s voice. Cold. Hard. ¡°The fight was his. It would be cowardice to interrupt a duel - something I intend to tell him, when he awakes.¡± ¡°If he awakes!¡± the woman yelled. ¡°Look at him! I can¡¯t believe I listened to you.¡± ¡°He is fine,¡± the man responded. ¡°As I told you he would be. Miles would not be defeated by a rat. Though I am ashamed that he thought so little of me as to throw his honor away for my sake.¡± ¡°Shut up with that, already,¡± the woman answered, and I felt a dull sensation, a pressure, like something was being wrapped around me. It wasn¡¯t painful, however - you can¡¯t feel pain in a dream, after all. ¡°Help me move him. We¡¯ve got to get out of here.¡± ¡°What of the coward woman?¡± ¡°Screw her!¡± I started to drift off again. I wondered who these people were, in my dreams, and why they were so angry at each other. They sounded almost like my parents, but that couldn¡¯t be right. Before consciousness - dream-consciousness? - left me, there was another voice. An all-too familiar voice. ¡°Sorry I haven¡¯t been in touch recently, Miles. I¡¯ve been busier than you could imagine over here. But that¡¯s no excuse. Sorry. I¡¯m happy you¡¯re alive, for what it¡¯s worth. I think I wasn¡¯t actually reaching you before, sometimes, so I don¡¯t know how much you¡¯ve heard. What a pain, huh? What good is one-way communication? Anyway, hang in there. I can see you¡¯re a little beaten up, but you¡¯ll pull through. I¡¯ll be back in touch when you¡¯re feeling better. I¡¯m happy you¡¯ve got some new friends with you, at least. ¡°Oh, right, I should probably say, this is Tom. Anyway, I¡¯ll catch you later, my man.¡± I sank back into the void of a dreamless sleep, absently wondering what that was all about. Chapter 53 - Naomi The first thing I noticed when I awoke was that my back was stiff. But that only made sense. I slept on the floor. For a moment I just laid there, blinking, wondering if I was late for work. Must have slept through my alarm, I thought, half-awake. Damn. Do I leave now, or do my morning routine and be even more late? Then my surroundings came into focus. The carved stone. The cold ground. The unfamiliar room. The dungeon. For a brief moment, I didn¡¯t know what was going on, didn¡¯t realize that the last month and more had been anything but a dream. I sat up in a panic, looking back and forth, wondering where the hell I was and why it wasn¡¯t my room at home. ¡°He¡¯s awake,¡± a voice called. The voice triggered something, and the memories all came back. Only that¡¯s not quite right. It¡¯s like the memories were already there, but they had all been mislabeled as dreams in my mind. Like the flip of a switch, they all became memories again. It didn¡¯t lessen my panic. I ran my hands over myself looking for wounds. Nothing. I checked my arm, where the Kalamuzi¡¯s blade had sliced at it. Nothing. I reached behind my back, where the worst injuries were - where claws had ripped into me and raked deep cuts. I felt only smooth skin. Smooth skin¡­ ¡°Hey!¡± I yelled. ¡°Who took my clothes off?¡± I was in my underwear, and I didn¡¯t much appreciate that. It was cold, for one. ¡°I did,¡± a voice said. Then Amaia was there, looking down at me. I waited for her to explain why, but that only showed how out of it I still was. A fully awake me would have known better. Eventually I realized. I sighed. ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°Didn¡¯t know if the healing potions were any good,¡± she said. ¡°Had to check your injuries.¡± ¡°And?¡± Amaia cocked her head. ¡°And what? Took two potions. You¡¯re fine.¡± ¡°Easy for you to say.¡± I barked at her. The memories of the fight were fresh in my mind. ¡°Suddenly you care about my wellbeing, huh?¡± Amaia averted her gaze. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said. ¡°That was a mistake.¡± It was weird to get apologized to by someone who wouldn¡¯t even look you in the eye, but I was pleasantly surprised all the same. But still pissed. ¡°How would you like it if I made the same ¡®mistake,¡¯ huh? Left you for dead? What if I had died, would you apologize to my dead body? A lot of good that would have done me.¡± She didn¡¯t say anything further. This was the second time, however, that I had woken up with her watching over me. I was hoping not to make a habit of it. I heard a shifting sound behind me. I turned - somewhat surprised I could do that, worrying I would reopen a non-existent wound on my back - and saw Cadoc standing up. I shifted myself around, still sitting, until I faced Cadoc. ¡°Miles,¡± he said simply. ¡°Cadoc,¡± I responded. We stared at each other for awhile. How well do I really know this guy? I thought to myself. We¡¯d treated each other like friends, until suddenly I wasn¡¯t worth saving. I really didn¡¯t know much at all, when you get right down to it. ¡°You going to apologize too?¡± I asked finally. A burst of air escaped his nostrils. ¡°I was awaiting your apology.¡± A heat washed over my face, and I probably turned red with anger. ¡°My apology? What the hell do I have to apologize for? Saving what¡¯s her face? Helping you? Or should I apologize for making the mistake of trusting that you would have my back? Yeah, I guess I¡¯m real sorry I did that. Almost killed me, that one.¡± Cadoc shook his head. ¡°You are wrong,¡± he said, and pointed an accusing finger at me. ¡°You did not help me. You treated me like a weakling, dishonored us both, broke the rules of a rightly-agreed duel. You shamed me by fighting my battle for me, and you shamed yourself. These are the acts of a coward.¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Are you calling me a coward?¡± I said, rising to my feet. I knew how severe of an insult that was, coming from Cadoc, and it made my blood boil that he would say that to me after I had just helped him. I got in his face, fists clenched. ¡°So you what, didn¡¯t help me because of revenge? Is that it? Petty revenge for offending you and your stupid rules? ¡®Miles broke his promise to a fucking rat, so I¡¯m going to let him die.¡¯ Is that about right? Am I missing something?¡± ¡°You dishonored a duel!¡± Cadoc shouted, as if nothing more needed to be said. I¡¯d never seen him so unhappy. We were staring at each other, eyes locked, neither one ready to back down. ¡°Are you suggesting I ought to have dishonored your duel, as well? I will not be dragged down to your level.¡± ¡°My level?¡± I repeated. ¡°My level? What the fuck do you mean, my level? I thought I was a hero, isn¡¯t that right? A brave hero. Why was it so wrong to fight a guard for that poor mother, and not to shoot a rat for you?¡± ¡°Those are not the same and you know it. The guard was not dueling that woman.¡± ¡°So I¡¯m supposed to just let myself be killed just because you think betraying a fucking rat is breaking your high-and-mighty moral code!¡± ¡°You weren¡¯t killed!¡± Cadoc yelled back. ¡°You¡¯re alive and well. You won. I would have won, too, if you had given me the chance.¡± ¡°So I help you out, make sure you don¡¯t die, and that¡¯s a bad thing? What if you didn¡¯t win? What if I didn¡¯t? Then what? We¡¯re just supposed to watch each other die? That¡¯s fucking stupid, Cadoc!¡± Cadoc turned his head to his left, and spit on the ground. ¡°You sound like my parents did.¡± ¡°Well maybe your parents were right,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re fucking alive, aren¡¯t you?¡± I don¡¯t know when it happened, but Cadoc¡¯s hand was on his sword, resting where it hung from his belt. Then I noticed that my hand in the same position. I had no idea who had done it first. ¡°Oi!¡± An unfamiliar voice called. It came from behind Cadoc. ¡°If you lot are going to kill eachother, y¡¯think you could untie me first? I¡¯d rather not starve to death, you hear?¡± I leaned to one side, peeking around Cadoc. Behind him some distance away, sat up against the wall of the room, was the woman with the staff. The staff laid beside her, and she was, in fact, still tied up. ¡°You brought her with,¡± I said, narrowing my eyes, suddenly pulled out of the argument with confusion. Cadoc looked at me, clearly unsure whether to allow this change of topic. He relented. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°But you kept her tied up?¡± I said, disbelief seeping into my voice. ¡°That¡¯s correct.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I was saying!¡± the woman yelled. ¡°Why keep me tied up?! Finally, a voice of reason in this place.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t know what to do with her,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°And I don¡¯t like her.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± the woman shouted. ¡°What did I ever do to you? Have we met?¡± Cadoc ignored her. I turned to Amaia. ¡°Why did we bring her with us and not untie her?¡± Amaia shrugged. ¡°I didn¡¯t really care.¡± I sighed, but internally, I screamed. I am surrounded by crazy people! I walked past Cadoc, and for a second, I didn¡¯t think he would let me past him. His hand tightened around his hilt for a moment before relaxing. ¡°Are you in charge here?¡± the woman asked as I approached. ¡°You ought to be. Very smart man, very reasonable. I, for one, am very happy you didn¡¯t get eaten by a Kalamuzi.¡± She shifted and turned to the side, revealing her tied hands. ¡°Here¡¯s the knot, thank you.¡± I stared down at her. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked. ¡°Not sure what that has to do with untying me,¡± she responded, turning her head to the side to look up at me. ¡°Not sure why you wouldn¡¯t just tell me your name.¡± ¡°Yeah, okay, fine. It¡¯s Naomi. You¡¯re Miles, yeah? They talk about you when you¡¯re not around, y¡¯know. Say mostly nice things, I guess.¡± Cadoc approached now, and came to stand beside me. That made it seem like we were on the same team again, but I knew that we¡¯d still have fighting to do when this was taken care of. Maybe we¡¯d both handle it better when we had calmed down a bit. Maybe he was thinking the same thing. ¡°Why did you leave your teammates to die?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°Woah, guys, hang on,¡± Naomi said, her face softening, eyes widening like a pleading puppy. ¡°Why the interrogation? We can talk about whatever you want. Just untie me first, please.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not an answer,¡± Cadoc said. The woman sighed. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know what you want me to say. I was out of mana. I wasn¡¯t any better than dead weight in that fight, and my companions - may they rest in peace - would have told you the same thing. You just chewed out your friend here for intervening in a fight, and now you want to chew me out for not intervening? Seems like a lose-lose to me.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject,¡± Cadoc said. The woman shrugged. ¡°Seems like the same subject to me, all due respect.¡± ¡°If we untie you,¡± I asked. ¡°What are you going to do next?¡± She frowned. ¡°I really don¡¯t like that ¡®if¡¯ word you¡¯re using there. I¡¯m going to pretend you said ¡®when.¡¯ When you untie me, I¡¯m going to get the hell out of here, naturally. Won¡¯t need to worry about me anymore, that¡¯s for sure.¡± ¡°You know the way out?¡± I asked. I was doubtful, seeing as it had already been three days - at least - since her party died, and we were able to catch up with her. She cleared her throat. ¡°Yes, well, I s¡¯pose I thought I did. But nothing to do but try, right?¡± Amaia had now walked up to join us, as well. I hadn¡¯t seen her approach, but suddenly, she was there. ¡°Just get captured again.¡± ¡°She¡¯s a real downer, isn¡¯t she?¡± Naomi said. ¡°Yeah, maybe I will. But that isn¡¯t any reason to leave me tied up, is it?¡± I shook my head. ¡°No, it isn¡¯t. But I had a question for you. A proposition. What if we led you out? Escorted you.¡± She cocked her head. ¡°What¡¯s the catch?¡± I laughed. ¡°The catch depends on you. What do you have to offer in exchange?¡± She blinked at me. ¡°Are you extorting me?¡± She turned to Amaia. ¡°Is this guy extorting me? In his underwear?¡± Amaia shrugged. ¡°Maybe.¡± I had forgotten I didn¡¯t have my clothes on. I went and picked them up - they were sitting nearby where I had been sleeping. ¡°I¡¯m broke,¡± I said while getting dressed. There were gashes rent in my armor - I¡¯d have to get something new when I could. ¡°You understand. I¡¯m willing to help you out, but I need money. I could just kill you and take it, if you¡¯d prefer.¡± ¡°If you were gonna do that, you¡¯d have done it already,¡± Naoni said. ¡°So don¡¯t give me that.¡± I shrugged, which was not easy to do while donning leather armor. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t exactly be hard to take what¡¯s on you while you¡¯re tied up. That staff looks fancy.¡± Her eyes widened. ¡°No, alright, okay, let¡¯s talk, yeah? Let¡¯s discuss this. But the staff is mine, OK? That¡¯s not on the table.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°What else have you got?¡± ¡°Well I¡¯ll have you know, I¡¯m actually quite wealthy,¡± she said. ¡°I just, uh, don¡¯t really carry my money with me into a dungeon, y¡¯know? So I¡¯m not really sure what to do about that.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got nothing on you?¡± I asked. ¡°Not really.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not the best negotiator, are you?¡± ¡°I vote that we leave her,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°I understand that you need your debts paid, Miles, but she doesn¡¯t look to have anything on her. Let us leave her like she left her compatriots. It would serve her right.¡± I didn¡¯t actually plan on doing that, but I looked at Naomi with one raised eyebrow as if I was considering it. ¡°Wait, I¡¯ve got it!¡± Naomi yelled. ¡°I¡¯ll join you guys! I can help you out, you can lead me out of here when you go to the surface, and then we can all go together to get my money so I can pay you! What d¡¯ya say?¡± ¡°We¡¯re not leaving,¡± I said. ¡°Until we destroy the core.¡± Her face darkened. ¡°Oh.¡± But then she smiled. ¡°That¡¯s fine. I mean, I guess it¡¯s fine, right? I¡¯ll leave when you leave. Not like my chances are better on my own, as you may have noticed.¡± ¡°She¡¯s just going to run away when the going gets tough,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Might do,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Can¡¯t lie and say I wouldn¡¯t. If you guys start dropping, I¡¯m going to start leaving. But hey, there¡¯ll be four of us, right? Just don¡¯t die.¡± Chapter 54 - Healthcare Costs My original plan had been to bring Naomi back the way we had come in, but I wasn¡¯t about to do that if she wasn¡¯t paying us first. Sure, I could just tell her the way, and she¡¯d probably have made it. But why would I do that? It was mean, maybe even manipulative. But that¡¯s fine. Small prices. I had debts to pay. Even if Naomi was lying about having money back on the surface, having her help us could be the difference between defeating the dungeon and dying. ¡°Is there a rule about teams being a max of three people?¡± I asked. ¡°Sure there is,¡± Naomi said. ¡°But you don¡¯t strike me as the rule-following type.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± I said, looking at Cadoc sideways. ¡°I have no problem with cheating. My friend here, however, randomly decides it¡¯s not okay. Any objections, Cadoc?¡± ¡°Do not antagonize me, Miles,¡± Cadoc said through gritted teeth. ¡°You know this isn¡¯t the same.¡± I laughed a short, bitter laugh. ¡°Do I? If this is a competition between all of the teams, isn¡¯t that really just a big duel with multiple competitors?¡± Cadoc narrowed his eyes in thought, and I quickly held up a hand. ¡°Stop. Too late. You¡¯ve already agreed.¡± I turned back to Naomi. ¡°It¡¯s a deal.¡± ¡°Great,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯d love to shake on it, but¡­¡± She motioned her head to her tied hands. I knelt down beside her and untied her hands. I was surprised the Kalamuzi had been able to tie a knot so well, but that one ratman in particular had seemed quite intelligent. For a Kalamuzi. ¡°Freedom!¡± Naomi yelled, the moment she was loose, jumping to her feet and shooting her hands up over head. Now that she was standing next to me, I realized she was pretty short. The shortest of us four, definitely. I took a moment to look her over. I hadn¡¯t really processed what she¡¯d looked like, yet. It was a side-effect of treating people as NPCs until they prove themselves otherwise - or until I had no choice but to pay more attention, even if they were NPCs. I hadn¡¯t decided about Naomi yet, but I was leaning towards her having a spark. Either way, it wasn¡¯t worth crowding my brain with all sorts of useless information about lesser people, and I certainly didn¡¯t want anything about them, even their mannerisms, to rub off on me. So, I would block it all out. It was easier to do than you might think. They became like vapor, incorporeal ghosts with little impact on the real world. She was short, and deeply tanned. I wondered if she came from a different part of the world, or if she just spent every waking hour in the sun. Her hair was black, cut shortish a little above her shoulders, and her eyes were a strange green-yellow color. She wore leather armor, similar to the rest of us, as well as a dark cloak with a hood - though the hood wasn¡¯t on. Her armor was the oldest looking I¡¯d seen, dirty and worn - it had to have seen better days. It was hard to tell, but it seemed like there were even parts where it had worn through completely, and the dark fabric of the clothes underneath peeked through. I couldn¡¯t help but compare her to Amaia. She had a much more feminine appearance than Amaia did, an impish smile, and an hourglass figure - though it would have been an uneven, bottom-heavy hourglass. ¡°Like what you see?¡± I turned away, blushing. And also angry, suddenly. Shit. Calm down. She¡¯s just fucking with you. ¡°I was just joking, jeez.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re going to make a break for it,¡± I said, changing the subject. ¡°Now¡¯s your chance. I¡¯d rather have you go and die now then run away later, when we don¡¯t expect it.¡± ¡°Who, me?¡± Naomi looked up at me sheepishly. ¡°I would never! Besides, I really would die out here alone. Didn¡¯t have much of a choice before, but no sane person chooses to be in a dungeon by themselves.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t a few people enter the dungeon alone, though?¡± I asked. ¡°That guy, Botros? I think that was his name.¡± ¡°Crazy person,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Suicidal, maybe.¡± ¡°Or he¡¯s a cheater,¡± Cadoc interjected. ¡°And he¡¯s joining up with another team once they¡¯re inside.¡± This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Smart,¡± Amaia said. I considered this. That was pretty smart. Maybe we wouldn¡¯t be the only cheaters down here. That only made cheating an even more justified move. Anything to win. ¡°So uh,¡± Naomi said. ¡°If I¡¯m going to be like, a team member for awhile, I think I ought to know your names, huh?¡± - We took stock of our situation. We had used two health potions on me, which left us with only one remaining. They were surprisingly effective, better than any medicine from Earth, and I probably hadn¡¯t even needed the second one, except that it sped up my recovery. Cadoc and Amaia had decided it would be better to get me back on my feet sooner than to have me laying around. Cadoc had probably not wanted to wait to yell at me, too. ¡°Wait a second,¡± I said, holding up our remaining potion. ¡°Could these things cure cancer?¡± Amaia looked confused. Cadoc asked what cancer was. ¡°How effective are they,¡± I asked more generally. ¡°Could they cure diseases? Like, really bad ones?¡± ¡°Ah,¡± Cadoc said, and the fact that he answered me showed that a sort of uneasy truce had formed between us, for now. ¡°In that case, no, they cannot. There are more specialized potions for that sort of thing, and they are much more expensive. These are for physical wounds only. And not too-severe ones. If you lose an arm, Miles, you will need something stronger than this.¡± Damn, I thought. I had been thinking about the insane amounts of money I could make if I sent home a cure for cancer. Still, such cancer-curing potions might exist, it sounded like, and even physical ones like the one we had left would probably sell for a ton on Earth. I wasn¡¯t about to send off our last one, but I¡¯d have to keep that in mind, and keep my eye out. I imagined people back on Earth, keeping emergency health potions in their cars, in case of an accident. It was better than a first-aid kit, and much better than crossing your fingers and hoping an ambulance showed up - not likely ever since the strikes and shortages started a couple years back. To think, somewhere out there, people are worrying about the cost of healthcare, and not the danger of the rat men. The other reason to use both potions on me, and not to leave me lying around too long, was that we were low on food. My recovery certainly hadn¡¯t helped- I had been ravenous, sleep-eating a significant amount of our supplies. That was a common side-effect, Amaia told me in spurts, as your body still needed the raw material to repair itself. And taking Naomi on board only exacerbated the problem further. She had already run out of food, and so now we were feeding four with our limited supplies. ¡°I¡¯d been scoping out those big worm things,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Thinking a good shot might just do the trick. But the trouble was getting one on its own. Didn¡¯t want to end up swarmed, if they happen to like each other.¡± She had waited inside one of their tunnels, imagining that one would return, she would kill it, and since the others couldn¡¯t see her, they wouldn¡¯t attack. ¡°Hopefully, anyway. I was low on good options,¡± she said. ¡°What is your magic, anyway?¡± I asked. I motioned to her staff, which she hadn¡¯t let from her grip since she had been untied. ¡°You an enchanter?¡± She laughed. ¡°Nope. I¡¯m a conjurer, same as Cadoc here. I use cut.¡± ¡°Cut?¡± I asked. That didn¡¯t sound like much of a spell. ¡°Sure,¡± she said. ¡°There¡¯s lots of names for it, y¡¯know. Blade magic, edge magic, cutting magic, whatever. But it¡¯s basically just cutting things.¡± I hadn¡¯t forgotten how her spell had taken a Kalamuzi¡¯s head clean off. I guessed that¡¯s what she meant by ¡°cut.¡± ¡°Pretty powerful magic,¡± I said. ¡°Based on what we saw. I¡¯m surprised your team was defeated.¡± ¡°You throw enough bodies at someone,¡± she said. ¡°And you can beat just about anybody. Unless they¡¯re like, a Fifth Ringer or something. Probably. I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never even met someone above Ring Three.¡± I scratched my chin, thinking. ¡°And you ran out of mana. Does that happen a lot?¡± She looked away. ¡°Maybe.¡± ¡°Definitely,¡± Amaia said. ¡°How many shots?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°Two? Three?¡± Naomi hung her head. ¡°One.¡± I stared in disbelief. ¡°One shot before you run out of mana? Every what, every day?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she said, almost in a whisper. ¡°But hey!¡± She said, cheerful again. ¡°Sometimes one shot is all you need, y¡¯know?¡± Amaia grunted in disapproval. She was, as usual, standing behind us, head on a swivel, presumably looking for approaching enemies. It was like bodyguarding was in her blood. ¡°How did you guys end up in a team with her, anyway?¡± Naomi asked, clearly wanting to change the subject. ¡°She saw the glory of our adventure,¡± Cadoc beamed. ¡°And her admiration drove her to join.¡± ¡°She invited herself,¡± I said. ¡°And she plans to leave whenever she feels like it. So I¡¯m not sure how much of a ¡®team¡¯ that is.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Naomi asked, eyes glowing. ¡°Hey Amaia, when we get out of here, how about we team up? We¡¯d make a great duo, y¡¯know. You¡¯ll be the brawns, and I¡¯ll be the looks.¡± ¡°Sounds stupid,¡± Amaia said. Naomi pouted. ¡°Well I was only joking anyway,¡± she muttered. ¡°I can see why you keep her around. Real dry sense of humor.¡± I¡¯m not sure if anyone else saw it, but Amaia cracked a thin smile at that. Naomi might have been right about the dry sense of humor, actually. We all eventually decided that Naomi¡¯s plan had been really stupid - even if she had killed the worm-drake, then what? You¡¯re stuck in a tunnel with the body blocking the entrance. She said that she¡¯d have cut her way through, although we all knew, now, that that would have taken at least another day. And if it hadn¡¯t worked, she would have just been eaten, with nowhere to run. So we came up with another plan. The first step was to get one of those big limpet things. We probably could have just cut it off of the wall with Naomi¡¯s magic, but that would have meant we couldn¡¯t use it again until the next day, which wouldn¡¯t be ideal. Instead, I burned it off. It only took a few nails before the slimy appendages of the creature released, recoiling back into its shell in pain. It even made a little high-pitched squealing sound, though it wasn¡¯t very loud. Just sounded like air escaping from a little hole. That done, we set up. All of us except for Cadoc lined up at the top of the narrow passage we had gone down when we had first entered the worm-pit-cave. I had my slingshot drawn, Amaia had more javelins, and Naomi held her staff at the ready. Cadoc, meanwhile, had carried off the limpet. He was the bait, and I don¡¯t think anyone was surprised when he volunteered for that job. Which was great, because he was the one with the least ability to attack at range. So we just waited, the sound of slithering masses filtering up from the mouth of the passage. I was sweating, afraid of what would happen if this didn¡¯t work, even though we had a back-up plan. If all else failed, we could flee into the target room behind us. The doors should close, and not open until we hit the target. We could wait, and hopefully the worm-drake would leave before we opened it again. Though we¡¯d be really low on food by then. Probably out completely. Just when I was about to ask aloud what was taking Cadoc so long, I caught the sound of his voice echoing in the distance. He was yelling like a madman. The sound came closer - as did the sound of something massive dragging its weight around. Cadoc came into view, a large shell held above his head, running and shouting wordless shouts. And, just as planned, a worm-drake was behind him, entering the pass a few seconds after Cadoc did. I started to laugh, both because Cadoc looked ridiculous, and because the plan was going well, so far. And then a second worm-drake entered the passage. Chapter 55 - Worm Food Nothing can ever just go right, I thought to myself. I should just expect it at this point. I should expect that any plan I¡¯m a part of is going to go horribly wrong. ¡°Shoot!¡± Cadoc was yelling up at us, shell still raised above his head. That was the only word I could make out, before he broke into more manic laughter. ¡°What now?¡± Naomi asked, staring at the two massive worm-drakes barreling towards us. Maybe it was my imagination, but it sounded like she was ready to run already. ¡°Shoot one,¡± I said, trying to sound confident. ¡°We¡¯ll handle the other one.¡± I had no idea if we could, but we had to try. I tried to tap into my internal source of power - not my mana, that is. My anger. Naomi sighed, but she raised her staff. An orange glow began to emit from the tip of the staff, and I thought I could almost feel the power in it like a change in pressure in the cavern. The cavern, with its strange ambient light, seemed to darken, while the staff¡¯s carved tip shone like a beacon. Then a yellow light shot out, and this time, prepared, I was better able to see it. It was like a crescent of air, an edged anomaly in space. Pure cutting mana, without a solid form, apparently. It shot forth, and in an instant it had reached the worm-drake on the right. It did not disappoint. I had been worrying that perhaps Naomi¡¯s magic was as worthless as the rest of ours, and maybe her cutting would only work on smaller opponents like the Kalamuzi - who would operate in groups large enough to mostly nullify its utility anyway. It was never a good sign for someone¡¯s power when they¡¯d lost 100% of the battles you¡¯d ever seen them in - even if that was only one out of one battle. Two, if you counted being tied up by the Kalamuzi. I hadn¡¯t needed to worry. The slice of mana, traveling down the slight angle of the pass, struck the worm-drake at a slant, the edges of the edge - if that makes any sense - slicing into the skin above one saurian eye and below the other, drawing a line from where an eyebrow would have been on a human, down to the opposite cheek. It cut the flesh of the worm-drake like butter, filleting the monster, peeling a third of body right off the top. The cut continued down the length of the tail, and the mana¡¯s edge was so fine that at first the cut was hardly noticeable. But the worm-drake crawled forward for a second longer, clawed arms moving automatically before the creature realized it was dead, and so the two pieces separated, the bottom half coming out from under the top, as if shrugging off a third of its weight, revealing a clean slice of meat and a thin-boned skeleton underneath. Cadoc slowed his pace a little, turned back to look at the damage. Even though he was turned away, I could see in the way he set his shoulders the moment he realized he had brought two worm-drakes with him, the idiot. And the second one was still advancing on him. He turned back towards us and renewed his run with new zeal. ¡°Drop the shell!¡± I yelled at Cadoc, despairing that he hadn¡¯t done it already. I hoped the worm-drake was still interested in the bait, and not the man holding it. Cadoc immediately turned, pivoting on one heel, and threw the shell over the head of the monster, back down the slope. The monster didn¡¯t turn. It advanced on Cadoc, teeth barred. It was after the bigger meal. Naomi, meanwhile, was leaning against her staff, clearly having trouble supporting her own weight. Her tanned-skin looked suddenly pale, and she swayed like a branch in the wind. ¡°Gonna have to sit the rest out,¡± she said. ¡°Tell Cadoc not to be mad at me.¡± She stumbled back from the slope, making towards our escape route. She¡¯d know better than to go into the room without us - right? I realized suddenly that I was putting a lot of trust in her not to shut us out here with the worm-drake and hide inside that room until the danger was gone. On the other hand, as I looked back at her, then the worm-drake again, I doubted she would even be able to make it in time, stumbling towards the door with her drunken, weakened pace. The monster would be upon us any moment now - it crawled with a fervor none of us had seen before, faster that we knew it could possibly go. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. No more time to think. Shoot like your life depends on it. Because it does. Amaia had already sent two javelins into the soft flesh of the monster, which stuck out like strange antennae. Cadoc, still yelling, was summoning walls of wood behind him. He would turn, looking over one shoulder - still running - and raise a hand towards the monster. A square of wood, a few feet wide and only an inch or two thick, would appear suddenly before the face of the creature. It would then shatter into splinters as the worm-drake crashed into it, blinking away the debris. It slowed it down slightly each time, but clearly not enough. I ignited the tips of the spears Amaia had already thrown, then raised my own weapon. I sent shot after shot, steel balls embedding themselves into the pink flesh, until I had spent five balls. I kept the last one, in case we had to run. Didn¡¯t want to be stuck in that chamber without a way to hit the switch. I had hit every shot I fired - it was a large target, growing closer all the time. By this point it looked to be only a few feet behind Cadoc - he could probably smell its breath - and they were both maybe thirty yards from where Amaia and I stood. I ignited all of those balls, and the additional spears Amaia had thrown in the meantime. The worm-drake roared in pain as points all along its body began to burn - but still it did not stop. If anything it quickened its pace, driven on by its rage. I knew the feeling. That was all of the shots I had - and was willing to risk - and Amaia was similarly spent. Cadoc could only summon the walls, and that wasn¡¯t proving effective either. And our trump card was limping away, worthless. It was time to retreat. ¡°Fall back!¡± I yelled. ¡°To the target room!¡± After I saw that Cadoc had heard the message - he gave a little nod - I turned, hoping that I wouldn¡¯t see a closed door. The heavy door was still raised. Naomi hadn''t made it inside. In fact, she had collapsed, lying in a pile to the right of the room¡¯s entrance. I ran, cursing myself and my stupid plans. Then I thought better of it. I cursed everyone else. Fuck them. Especially Cadoc. Amaia was running beside me. ¡°Grab her!¡± I yelled, pointing at Naomi. Amaia didn¡¯t respond, but immediately changed course, running towards where Naomi lay. Meanwhile, I stole another glance back at Cadoc. It seemed as if the worm-drake was close enough that it could simply reach out and grab him. He was barely staying ahead of it. I ran for the entrance, but did not enter. I knew that the door wouldn¡¯t close while people were still entering - it was almost like it had a sensor like the automatic door of a grocery store, as we¡¯d noticed last time - but if I entered way before anyone else, then it would close and leave them to their doom. Wait. I realized with a descending sense of horror what was about to happen. We had planned on running into the room, letting the door close behind us, and hiding out there until the worm-drake had likely passed to look for easier meals. But we had assumed, naively, that the worm-drake would be far enough behind us for the door not to sense it, and close. I hadn¡¯t planned on it being three feet away from snatching Cadoc. If the three of us enter right now, I realized, not even wanting to think it but unable to keep the thought from my head, then Cadoc will be shut out before he reaches the entrance. But if we wait for him¡­ if we wait for him, then the worm-drake will crawl in after us, the door will stay open, and we¡¯ll all die. Amaia had hefted Naomi up onto her shoulders, and now stood beside me at the entrance. She looked at me like a soldier at ready, awaiting the next order. Naomi was half awake, muttering to herself. I swore under my breath. Fuck Cadoc, part of me said. What the hell do I need him for, anyway? That asshole abandoned me. This is only fair. If he survived, I would tell him to his face. Oh, you wanted me to help? I thought you were in a duel with that worm. Couldn¡¯t go breaking the sanctity of a duel, now, could I? I looked back at Cadoc, and the worm-drake. My window was quickly closing - would be gone completely any second. If I didn¡¯t move immediately, we were all going to end up worm-food. I don¡¯t have a choice, I thought. He would fucking volunteer, if he could, the suicidal maniac. Either he dies, or we all die - which means he dies either way. He¡¯s already dead. He¡¯s already dead. He¡¯s already dead. I repeated this mantra to myself as if it would help, but it didn¡¯t. I could taste blood where I had been biting the inside of my cheek. ¡°Fuck,¡± I said to myself. I couldn¡¯t believe what I was about to do. I¡¯m a fucking idiot. Tom wouldn¡¯t be so fucking stupid. Wouldn¡¯t have to be. ¡°Hurry up!¡± I yelled to Cadoc. ¡°We¡¯re waiting for you, you stupid fucker! Run faster!¡± Cadoc smiled at us, and that fucking smile reminded me of Tom¡¯s infuriating smile, and I almost changed my mind right then and there. ¡°Alright,¡± I said to Amaia. ¡°Get her inside. Quick! We¡¯ll be right behind you.¡± ¡°Do you have a plan?¡± Amaia said, looking back at the rows of teeth coming our way. ¡°I think so,¡± I said. ¡°But get ready to die either way. Because I¡¯m not convinced it¡¯s going to work.¡± Amaia simply nodded, and carried Naomi inside. ¡°Wait!¡± I yelled after her. She turned. ¡°Go out the far door,¡± I said. I saw the look of defiance about to set on her face, and cut it off. ¡°Just do it. That¡¯s an order. Get behind the next door. We don¡¯t all need to die here.¡± Amaia met my eyes and stared at me for a second - we didn¡¯t have time for an argument, and she knew it. But the second seemed to stretch out for hours. Finally, she nodded again, and ran. Cadoc was still approaching, and for a while, I just watched. I knew I¡¯d made the wrong choice. Any second now, Cadoc would trip and fall, and maybe the worm would take enough time to eat him that the rest of us could get away, but probably not. They were too close now. There was no going back. ¡°What took you so fucking long!¡± I yelled at Cadoc as he came within a stone¡¯s throw of the entrance. ¡°Good to see you too, friend!¡± Cadoc yelled back, grinning wildly. I¡¯m not sure if he even heard what I had yelled at him. I waited until the last possible moment before turning and running. I was still a couple yards from Cadoc, but there was no chance that the door would close on him now. I ran to the center of the room - Amaia had already carried Naomi out the other side, and I could see her standing there in the distance, watching. I turned back towards the worm-drake. Cadoc was just about to enter the room, and the worm-drake couldn¡¯t be closer at his heels. ¡°All this for a fucking meal,¡± I said to myself. ¡°And I thought going home and being homeless was bad. Fuck. I¡¯d beg for Dimen-X to let me back, now. Let the debt ruin me. Let me be homeless.¡± I sighed, and prepared to die. Chapter 56 - Loser I pulled back the bands of my slingshot, taking aim at the target over the door once more. The muscles in my arms cried out in protest, the memory of the last time still fresh. This time, however, I couldn¡¯t afford to miss hundreds of shots first. I had only one steel ball, one shot. If I hit the button, the door would close on the worm-drake, either killing it, or at least getting it stuck and unable to continue any further into the room. If I missed, it was all over. The world seemed to move in slow motion. Cadoc was running through the door, the worm-drake snapping at him. It was time to shoot. I was shaking, and nervous sweat was getting into my eyes. It stung, and I wiped it away, tried to calm my nerves. I focused everything I had on that one shot. Tried to remember how I had done it the previous time. Same ball, same distance, same target. Should be simple. Almost before I made the command to my fingers, I released. I watched as, still in slow motion, the ball soared through the air. It flew up to the target. And bounced uselessly off of the wall, missing the target. I immediately slumped down to the ground, falling to my knees. The steel ball bounced back into the room, but it would be impossible to find it in time for a second shot, a waste of energy to scour for it among the abandoned bones and weapons. I hung my head, defeated. A rush of thoughts washed over me in an instant. I knew I couldn¡¯t do this, I thought. I knew it from the very first moment I got here. I¡¯ve been deluding myself, thinking that I could make up for a spark with drive, with anger. I thought back to that day Tom had shown me my mistake in Social Studies, how I had given the right answer, but not the answer the teacher wanted to hear. I¡¯ve known it ever since then. Would I have passed those tests if I had tried harder? Gotten angrier? Taken the tests over and over and over, refusing to fail? No. Of course not. What the hell am I doing here? I¡¯m about to die just trying to get something to eat. How did I ever think I could survive in this world? I¡¯m too weak, too helpless, too much of a failure. I don¡¯t know why I didn¡¯t see it before, but this world makes it so obvious who is special and who isn¡¯t. The higher of a Ring you are in, the more special you are. And they wouldn¡¯t even let me inside. I¡¯ve only made it this far by leeching off of the skills of other people, like I¡¯ve been copying someone else¡¯s answers on all my tests. Eventually, that stops working. Either the teacher switches your seats, and the new guy next to you ends up being just as fucking stupid as you are, and you both fail, or you end up one day not sitting next to anybody. What then? What do you do when you end up alone? Do you scribble nonsense, bubble in random answers, and hope for the best? You may as well turn it in blank. It felt like the entire rest of my life, the decades I would have lived if I wasn¡¯t eaten, all the years I had remaining until a natural death, were all coming to inhabit that one moment, me on the ground, head in my hands, dreading my death and hating myself. I spent more than half of a lifetime there. Why did I even try? Mom told me way back then everything I needed to know about life: some people aren¡¯t meant to succeed. Why did I think I could escape my fate? I realized then that I¡¯d always been stubborn. I¡¯d thought that my resolve I had found after Berenguer¡¯s manor was new, but it had been a part of me for years. I wasn¡¯t some genius, some fluke, some miracle, the conscious NPC; I was just a sore loser. I followed Tom because I couldn¡¯t accept that I was a loser. I was so unbelievably stupid. I knew that copying Tom didn¡¯t work, not really. There would always be something I was missing - and maybe it wasn¡¯t an action I didn¡¯t take. Maybe it was just a character trait I didn¡¯t have, and I could go through all the motions, but still not ever win. It was like I had been over at Tom¡¯s house, seen Tom flip a lightswitch on, and tried to make the same movement in my own house, when I got back home - but my Mom hadn¡¯t paid the electricity bill. I could copy him him exactly, every last detail - the speed, the angle, the expression on his face while he did it - but I simply didn¡¯t have any electricity. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. He was living a life, while I was an actor on stage, pretending to live, all of my days filled nothing but props and lines. And now I¡¯d lost my lines. Even if it did work, even if it would have worked, how was I supposed to copy Tom without Tom around? How was I supposed to know what he would do when fighting a giant fucking worm with arms? That wasn¡¯t in the script. I couldn¡¯t have memorized those lines if I tried. Without Tom, I wasn¡¯t a second Tom. I wasn¡¯t even a cheap copy of Tom. I was just me, and that wasn¡¯t enough to do anything. I looked up. Time seemed to have screeched to a near-halt. Cadoc was moving so slowly that he looked frozen, that manic grin still plastered on his face. He¡¯ll probably die here, too, I thought. But he¡¯s happy. Lucky bastard. I looked back over my shoulder. Amaia was there still, just beyond the doorway, shouting something, Naomi laying on the floor next to her, propped up against the wall. Amaia will survive, I thought. She¡¯s more special than any of us. Maybe that¡¯s why I never understood what the hell she was thinking. And Naomi - well, she¡¯ll live for a little longer, anyway. Who knows what her deal is. I supposed that, following the line of thinking that said Amaia was more special than any of us, then Berenguer - whatever Ring he was in - was the most special person I¡¯d met in that world. That¡¯s what special looked like. Ruthless. Scheming. Angry. I looked back down at the ground. A skull smiled back at me, a fellow traveler. Some other loser who had died here. Probably hadn¡¯t even gotten as far as I had, had starved in that room, unable to shoot the target. The remnant of a thin sword was still in his boney fingers, blade rusty but still sharp in parts, above a cross-guard, a hilt, and a round pommel. I considered if it was sharp enough, still, to end a life, but I wasn¡¯t sure it would be any less painful than being eaten. For some reason, I couldn¡¯t stop staring, even as I resigned myself to death. The skeleton. The sword. He had been holding his sword even as he died. If he had starved to death in there, then it had obviously been pointless. Perhaps he had killed himself with it, but I didn¡¯t think so. The sword had been gripped facing the other way. I kept staring at that sword, thinking about the pointless struggle of this dead man, wondering why he had bothered swinging his sword at all. Maybe I was wrong, and he hadn¡¯t starved in here. Maybe he had done exactly what I had, and gotten stuck in here with an enemy he couldn¡¯t defeat. And he had died fighting. Still staring at the sword, still fearing my death, my hand begun to move on its own. Before I had even realized what I was doing, I had pried the sword out of the skeleton¡¯s grip - easy without the resistance of muscles - and held the sword aloft, upside down. I turned, and it was like another mind was working inside my head, and another voice took over my vocal chords as I shouted out to Amaia. ¡°Amaia!¡± I shouted. ¡°Disarm this sword! Take the pommel off!¡± A rapid series of emotions ran across her face in succession, but she finally held up a hand. The sword twisted and warped, and finally the round pommel snapped off. I grabbed it in my other hand and returned the sword to the skeleton. Then I looked at the pommel. It was a counterbalance to help move a sword¡¯s center of gravity, a simple, mundane part of most swords, and this one wasn¡¯t fancy. Just a little steel ball. A second shot. I loaded it into the pouch of the slingshot, pinched it between my knuckles, and stretched back the bands. With the calmness of death, I took aim. Cadoc was well into the room now, approaching my position quickly as time began to resume its normal course. The worm was inside, too, barely able to wriggle its way into the doorway. It was a tight fit, and that had slowed it down enough that it was still only a few feet in. If I was stupid to think I could escape fate, I thought. Then I was just as stupid to think I could change this basic fact. I am stubborn. I am a sore loser. And so why the hell did I think I was going to give up? I¡¯m going to struggle and strain and fight with every last breath, every ounce of mana, of energy, of life. I¡¯ll be a parasite if I have to be, same as always. But it doesn¡¯t stop there. I¡¯ll do whatever it takes. In the end, someday, I¡¯ll lose. But I will push back that day as far as I can. I thought about that house out in the country, the beautiful wife, the dream. I didn¡¯t think I would ever get there, but I had to try anyway. Not because I thought I would win. But because that¡¯s who I am. I¡¯m a sore loser. I released. The shot flew, and in a blink, it hit the button. The door began to descend on the worm as it continued to pull itself forward. It was too far in, now, to retreat - if it could even go backwards at all - but still much too far from getting it¡¯s whole body into the room. It shambled forward, still mindless with hunger. Cadoc had reached me now, and stood beside me, facing the worm-drake, sword in hand. We watched as the stone door slowly descended. The worm-drake had gotten almost halfway across the room, close enough I could almost reach out and touch it - before the door finished shutting, crunching the worm-drake¡¯ss thin spine as it came down. The door got stuck, unable to close completely, leaving a gap a foot or two high. But the worm was stuck. It thrashed and writhed, trying to free itself, but it was unable to. The door was too heavy. ¡°Well done,¡± Cadoc said, placing a hand on my shoulder. ¡°I believed, for a moment, that we had reached our heroic end. But you continue to prove me wrong.¡± ¡°This mean you got over the duel thing?¡± I asked. ¡°No,¡± he said, sternly. ¡°There is more to be said. But I have put it aside for the moment. Because we are teammates.¡± I smiled grimly, watching the worm struggle. Then another hand fell on my shoulder. I turned, and it was Amaia. She must have scrambled inside when she saw the door closing. ¡°I thought guards were supposed to listen to orders,¡± I said. ¡°Well done,¡± she said, mimicking Cadoc and ignoring my comment. I let it slide. ¡°Hey,¡± Naomi said, groggily, from where she hung on Amaia¡¯s neck. ¡°Did we do it? Are we eating soon? Cause, y¡¯know, I¡¯d really like to eat soon. I¡¯m starving over here.¡± And as if on cue, her stomach growled, and the worm-drake seemed to growl back. Chapter 57 - Food Worm There was still the matter of actually killing the trapped worm-drake, which thrashed around so violently that it was dangerous even to approach it. It still had javelins poking out from its worm-flesh like porcupine quills, and I could see, if I looked closely, the little blackened holes where burning steel balls had created charred wounds. If this thing was able to retreat, I thought, I¡¯d lose five out of my six shots. I should really keep that in mind in the future. And get some more steel balls. The sword pommel didn¡¯t fly quite like the other balls, but I pocketed it anyway. A good luck charm. None of us were able to think of a good solution, although Cadoc suggested we simply all charge it at once. I pointed out that one of us would likely die, so we went with plan B. We slept. Or, at least, Naomi slept, while the rest of us couldn¡¯t help but look fearfully at the monster, wondering if its frantic struggles would finally free it. It never seemed to tire of its fight. If it did escape, we would be screwed. But the trap held. When Naomi woke up, we fed her the last of the food - she insisted that she needed her strength up - then pressed her to use her cutting magic again. She didn¡¯t want to - ¡°I¡¯m going to be worthless all day,¡± she said - but it was by far our best option, and it was that or starve. Once the worm-drake was cut cleanly in half, Naomi returned right back to where she had been sleeping. ¡°Goodnight,¡± she said, yawning. ¡°Try not to die while I¡¯m gone. You guys can split the mana if you want.¡± Then I got that same question-feeling. I hadn¡¯t thought of it before, but did that mean that Naomi had taken the mana from the first one? I guess she had killed it, but still, it seemed a little greedy. ¡°Can I take this?¡± I asked. ¡°Wait, what does she mean, split it?¡± Cadoc shrugged, but Amaia answered. ¡°You can choose to take part of the mana. Just think it.¡± ¡°What?¡± I asked. ¡°We could have done that the whole time? Why didn¡¯t you tell us?¡± She shrugged. ¡°Didn¡¯t come up.¡± I sighed. Some things never change. The rest of us - everyone except Naomi - got started with the body. I retrieved my ammunition first, using a knife to dig the balls out. Then I searched the bone and rusty-metal filled refuse, looking for the last one. I found it before too long, luckily. The next problem was how we were actually going to eat the thing. Cooking it was simple enough - I¡¯m not sure if it would be easy, per se, or even if the result would be tasty, but it should be simple. Make a fire, cook it, eat it. The bigger concern was preserving it. It was way more meat than we could ever hope to eat in one meal - or even a hundred meals, maybe. We didn¡¯t exactly have a refrigerator on hand, or a freezer, so that about exhausted my experience of food preservation. I tried to think of what methods I¡¯d read about in biographies of famous historical figures, but all I could think of was salting. Or pickling. We didn¡¯t really have the materials for that. ¡°You have any salt in that pack of yours?¡± I asked Amaia. She shook her head. ¡°Not enough,¡± she said. It was worth a shot - I was surprised she had any. I was in the same boat - I still had some little salt packets from the MREs stashed away in my pack, but nowhere close to enough to actually preserve something. So, unfortunately, most of the worm-drake was going to go to waste. It was aggravating to have killed two massive creatures, enough food to last us for years, probably, and end up having to let most of it rot after a few days. ¡°Isn¡¯t there, I don¡¯t know, magical food preservation or something?¡± ¡°Even if there is, friend,¡± Cadoc said, ¡°None of us are saltomancers. Preservomancers, perhaps. Whatever the case. Let us cook, and feast, and eat our fill. When we grow hungry, we will only have to hunt another drake.¡± If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I almost cried. But there was no sense in waiting around. The body wasn¡¯t getting any fresher. Amaia pulled a long knife from her pack and begun cutting into the pinkish meat with an trained hand. She began with carving an exit into the bulging mass jammed in the doorway which led out into the cavern - otherwise it would be difficult to even leave before the thing rotted. She had Cadoc and I prepare more spears, to skewer the meat on. I really, really hoped it was going to taste good. When she had cut off some sizeable chunks, she told Cadoc and I to start a fire. Cadoc summoned sticks and arrayed them into a pyramid-shape, and I worked on getting my nails to ignite them. Before long we had a roaring fire, comforting in that subterranean clime. We built it near where Naomi slept, and she muttered some ¡®thank-you¡¯s in her sleep. Amaia, meanwhile, had continued her slicing, moving up and down the length of the carcass, occasionally shaking her head, as if looking for something. The incisions were meticulous, and revealed thin bones like those of a fish. Finally, she sliced into a segment, nodded, and pulled forth a narrow organ larger than her head, which was dark red, and looked like an elongated heart. She set this aside as well - piercing it on a freshly-sharpened spear, which caused blood to burst from it, and then run lazily down the spear¡¯s shaft - then moved down a seemingly measured distance, sliced again, and pulled out a brown-ish blob, slimy and, honestly, disgusting-looking. Finally she moved to the head, peeling back the skin until the skull was revealed. Then she called me over and asked me to smash the skull. ¡°What? Why?¡± I stared at her in disbelief. Is she going to eat the brains? But Amaia only stared back at me, and motioned to the skull again. Whatever, I thought. If she wants to get mad-cow disease or whatever the fuck you get from eating worm brains, that¡¯s her business. ¡°Don¡¯t come crying to me when you¡¯ve got a parasite in your gut,¡± I muttered. I drew my antisword, wishing that I had brought my mace - there were many more wide spaces in the dungeon than we had anticipated - but the drows would have to do. I steeled myself for a long ordeal. To my surprise, it only took a couple of swings. The skull was as thin as the rest of the bones, and it began to crack after the very first blow. If we did have to kill another one - though I still dreaded the thought - that might prove to be invaluable information. Once she deemed the skull sufficiently pulverized, and the brain underneath was slightly scrambled, Amaia said ¡°Enough¡± and took over. She carefully removed shards of cranium, and then used her knife to scoop out the brains. She put it in a little pot she¡¯d pulled from her pack - was her pack full of nothing but cooking supplies? This done, she got to cooking. Most of the meat was skewered, and so didn¡¯t need much work, but she had some spices in her pack - none of which I recognized - which she pulled out and applied to the chunks of meat carefully, as if one extra fleck of spice would ruin it. We also built a little pot-stand for her brain. The frame was made simply enough from Cadoc¡¯s summoned sticks, while we were able to scavenge a chain from the remains of an old, impractical looking weapon. It was a knife on the end of a large chain, though the knife was mostly rusted. The chain wasn¡¯t must better, but didn¡¯t have any broken links. It wasn¡¯t too hard to wrap this around the handle of the pot, suspending it above the fire. Amaia twisted the metal with her magic to make sure it would hold. She filled the brain pot with all of the water she and Cadoc had left - she wanted to use mine too, insisted it would be worth it, but I refused. ¡°We¡¯ll definitely need to find more fresh water soon, though,¡± I said, hurrying to change the subject away from the idea of drinking brain juice. Naomi began mumbling in response - she was in and out of sleep. ¡°Shoulda drained the blood,¡± is what it sounded like. I hoped that wasn¡¯t right, because Amaia made a face like regret, as if she wished she had thought of that. Amaia added spices to the brain-stew as well, and then we simply waited, turning our skewers occasionally so that they wouldn¡¯t burn. I intended to cook mine thoroughly. ¡°How does a bodyguard know so much about cooking?¡± I asked Amaia, once we had all settled into our places around the fire. We¡¯d cleared the area of bones and debris, but we didn¡¯t have anything to sit on - just spots on the ground. Naomi was in her bedroll, awake again but clearly quite tired still. ¡°Part of the job,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Truly?¡± Cadoc said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have imagined.¡± I shook my head. ¡°That can¡¯t be right. Maybe we use a different word for the same thing. Your job was to protect someone, right? Make sure no one killed them?¡± Amaia nodded. ¡°Then why the hell were you cooking?¡± I asked. ¡°Where I come from, bodyguards definitely aren¡¯t cooks.¡± Naomi perked up. ¡°You¡¯re a foreigner? Where are you from? How did you get here? Did you walk? From what direction?¡± Cadoc answered for me before I could. ¡°He¡¯s from a land without magic. He appeared in the desert south of here. He was transported there by magic. The contradiction there is obvious, but Miles assures me of its truth.¡± He grunted and twisted his face, as if he had tasted something sour. ¡°Although perhaps his word does not mean as much to me as it once did.¡± ¡°A land without magic?¡± Naomi asked. ¡°That sounds¡­huh. Y¡¯know, I suppose it might be kind of nice. No fighting, no war.¡± I laughed. ¡°Dream on. There¡¯s still plenty of fighting.¡± ¡°Hmm,¡± Naomi said, staring off. She was pondering something, clearly. ¡°Anyway,¡± I said, ignoring Cadoc¡¯s returning displeasure - and possible suspicion. ¡°Back to the question. Why did your employer have you cooking? They couldn¡¯t afford a bodyguard and a cook?¡± Amaia shook her head. ¡°Couldn¡¯t trust them.¡± ¡°What, from poison?¡± I asked. ¡°Just how important was this person? And was he that hated?¡± ¡°Oooooh,¡± Naomi said. ¡°She must have been guarding a famous celebrity or something. Maybe a king, or a duke, or something. What a glamorous job.¡± ¡°She was not-¡° ¡°She?¡± Noami and I both said at once. We turned to each other for a moment. Naomi stuck out her tongue at me. ¡°I have already said too much,¡± Amaia said, and refused to continue on that subject. ¡°What about you, Naomi?¡± I asked. ¡°You ever going to tell us your story?¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s nothing, really,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m just a famous adventurer, known across the lands for my stunning beauty. And, y¡¯know, heroic deeds or whatever.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of you,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Well, that just means that you are dreadfully uninformed. It isn¡¯t my fault you spent your life making sandwiches for the queen.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re only a First Ring mage,¡± Cadoc interjected. ¡°So what if I am?¡± Naomi retorted. She stood up, using her staff as a support. ¡°Y¡¯think I can¡¯t be powerful as a First Ring mage? How¡¯d you like a test? Got any fingers or toes you won¡¯t miss? How¡¯s this - I shoot my magic at you, and then you can hit back with your stick and board routine, and we see who¡¯s stronger, huh?¡± Cadoc might have actually agreed to that, if Naomi hadn¡¯t collapsed a moment later. We all rushed over to help, but she beat us off. ¡°I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m fine, leave me alone. I¡¯m just tired. And starving. Is the food ready yet?¡± I looked at the meat. I had been trying not to think about the fact that I¡¯d have to eat it, but my stomach was growling. If I died from food poisoning, I would be so unbelievably angry. Chapter 58 - Food, Shelter, and Water It was better than I thought it would be. It was very mild, which I was not expecting. It tasted somewhere between white fish meat and dirt, with hints of more dirt. If you rolled scallops on the floor before eating them, you might be able to simulate the experience yourself, though that description lends it too much flavor. In some ways, it didn¡¯t taste like anything at all. It was like someone describing the taste of dirt-covered seafood to you over the phone, a shy and servile hunk of meat that merely suggested flavors to your tongue, but wouldn¡¯t be so rude as to actually taste like much of anything. That would be too forward for a shy meat like this. It was tough - eating it was somewhat of a workout for my jaw - but I was more than able to stomach it. In fact, the spices Amaia had added really helped to soften the dirt flavor, and I was hungry enough that, if you had asked me right then, I would have told you it was damn good. Though if I had other options, I might have said it was just okay. I ended up eating a lot of worm-drake. We decided to set up a camp of sorts in that room with the targets; it took an entire day just to clear out the remains of the worm-drake we¡¯d just eaten. We piled the refuse up outside. It was a tragically large pile. The journey to the dungeon¡¯s core was ending up being longer than any of us had imagined - except for Naomi, who asked exactly how stupid we were that we thought we could do it within a week. Since we couldn¡¯t return to the surface like everyone else - for fear of Berenguer - we had to do what we could to survive underground. That meant food, water, and shelter. Food had been taken care of for the moment, at least, and, in theory, we knew we could kill worm-drakes. And with our newfound knowledge of their thin skulls, we developed new hunting methods. Ones that didn¡¯t involve nearly dying. Well, not to the same degree, anyway. The new method involved Cadoc summoning walls of wood on either side of a stray worm-drake¡¯s face, leading him slowly back to the pass. It had been only a suspicion, but I had wondered if they would work like blinders on a horse, and it proved effective at steering their path. Once the worms were led back to the pass, Naomi would be waiting, staff ready. But she was only back-up, in case something went wrong - and it did, often. But if it didn¡¯t, then Amaia and I would be ready with spears and steel balls - except this time, we¡¯d aim right for the center of the worm-drake¡¯s skull. All it took was one good shot - or three decent shots, if needed - to break a steel ball or javelin right through the worm-drake¡¯s weak cranium. That done, brain scrambled, the worm-drake was dead in a matter of moments. If we missed - or that one time when we shot a ball into the skull, and it only seemed to make the monster angrier - then Naomi would complain bitterly before slicing the worm-drake in half. It was incredibly wasteful every single time, mountains of meat that we¡¯d only end up eating for a day or two. The rest was left to rot in the snake-pit-cavern - though we would have to clear the pass occasionally, which was a terrible job - and a miasmic odor began to permeate the place. Disgusting insects, as well, which I didn¡¯t recognize, ate away at the remains. At least we were getting mana out of it the hunting process. Shelter was a simple matter as well. Cadoc¡¯s ability to summon sticks and boards, as well as his manual labor background, actually made him quite the carpenter. We didn¡¯t have nails, but he was able to fit the pieces of wood together with interlocking grooves and joints. Actual shelter, in the strictest sense, was unnecessary. It¡¯s not like we had to worry about inclement weather, and the temperature stayed very consistent. While the idea of building a little subterranean bungalow was a humorous one, really what we needed was defense. And while the heavy stone doors provided much of that, there was still the question of what to do if something got through. Cadoc ended up building something like a barricade of spikes on the inside of the worm-facing entrance - the idea was that, if a worm-drake ever made it through again, it would find itself impaled on a wall of spears. Hopefully that would at least slow it down. On the opposite side, he simply built a wall, with a little door in it - the all-wooden hinges were honestly pretty impressive. Of course, this all took him days - his mana pool was nowhere near large enough to do it all at once. But slowly, we built ourselves a little hideout. We had our cooking area still, and an area cleared around the fire to sit and eat and sleep. The rest of the room was still filled with old bones. When I laid down at night, staring up at the stone ceiling, waiting for dreams to come, I would wonder about where Tom was, what he was doing, what kind of bed he was sleeping in. The real problem was water. I still had a little left - having refused to add my portion in with the brain stew. My teammates, however, all ate the stew, ensuring me it was delicious, telling me to eat it. I eventually caved, and it was alright, I guess, but just the thought of it made me sick. They filled their canteens with brain-juice - Amaia said it was energizing - but still our water supplies were dreadfully low. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. So we began making expeditions out further into the dungeon. Many rooms, tunnels, and further caverns branched off from the worm-pit, and we explored them one-by-one. We decided it would be best to have someone stay behind and guard our little spot - it wouldn¡¯t do any good for us to return home to a Kalamuzi ambush. We would switch it up occasionally, but since Cadoc and Amaia were the most useful for running a camp, it usually ended up being Naomi and I sent out. I didn¡¯t mind too much. She was annoying sometimes, but she was nice to look at, in her own way. You can judge me all you want, but you try spending over a month having barely seen a woman besides Ms. Stone Face. I let her walk ahead of me, and she didn¡¯t suspect a thing. It was comforting, in a way, and I was really just happy that Naomi never caught me peeking at her butt. She was also a good backup. She could probably kill anything we¡¯d likely run into - I hoped - but then I¡¯d have to carry her off, or at least help her stumble back. That was the downside. ¡°Don¡¯t you carry a sword or something?¡± I asked on the first outing, as we walked down the pass away from the hideout, past the rotting worm-drake corpse. ¡°Seems like you¡¯d want something you could use without knocking yourself out.¡± Naomi scoffed at me. ¡°And lower myself like that? K¡¯know, some of us have standards. I¡¯m a real mage, not, well¡­¡± She paused, pursed her lips, looking at me. ¡°Well, never mind that. No. I don¡¯t use a sword, thank you.¡± On our explorations we found strange over-grown insects, eerie pale plant-life, and at least one disembodied human head, which grinned at us like we were the butt of an unspoken joke. The head looked fresh, but we never found the body. We guessed it was the Kalamuzi who had done it, but never could agree on why they would leave the head behind. Luckily, it wasn¡¯t too long before we found water. I had almost been convinced by my savage companions to try drinking blood. We were standing in a high-ceilinged cavern, having been brought there after following the sound of flowing water in the walls, and instead of those hell-colored roots, this space was lit from above by strange bioluminescent fungus, which glowed a radiant blue which reminded me of a computer screen. Its electric blue brightness would have banished all darkness from the chamber, if not for the harsh shadows that danced on the walls and floor like shadow-people at a monochrome rave - caused by the man-sized moths, white-bodied with black eyes and wings, which flitted around the lights, high above us. And there it was. We had seen it from a distance before approaching - just barely, a far-off glint, tucked away in a rocky little grotto. It was an underground stream - only a small part of it exposed to the cavern we stood in. It came out from the wall to the side, and ran quickly further down, so that only a square foot or so was exposed, in a forgotten corner we easily could have missed. I didn¡¯t wait. I knelt to the ground and thrust my face into the stream, drinking with reckless abandon. I knew it would give me a stomach-ache if I wasn¡¯t careful, but I didn¡¯t care. The water tasted amazing. I stood, water dripping off of me, and smiled. Maybe hard work does pay off. Naomi was giving me a strange look, but I motioned towards the stream. ¡°Going to have a drink?¡± ¡°Just don¡¯t push me in,¡± she said, and knelt down - shooting glances back at me - and had a drink. I had no idea why she¡¯d think I¡¯d push her in. Having found water, I felt pretty damn good about our chances. Surely we¡¯d be able to make it through the dungeon before a month¡¯s time, and whatever we found would easily pay my debts for the month. Things were looking up. We filled our canteens, and that¡¯s when we felt it. A chill. We both must have felt the same thing, because Naomi was looking around, a curious look on her face. ¡°Hide,¡± she said in a whisper. ¡°Someone¡¯s coming. Quick!¡± There weren¡¯t exactly a lot of options for hiding places - we were literally cornered. We had to settle for crouching behind some rocks, perpendicular to the stream. I cursed myself. Fucking idiot. Of course the one source of water down here would attract attention. We should have gone back for reinforcements the moment we saw it, brought one more person with us. But I was so fucking thirsty. ¡°If he has magic that can sense us,¡± Naomi whispered. ¡°Then we¡¯re dead.¡± ¡°Or if he has ears,¡± I said. ¡°Shut up.¡± Naomi snorted. ¡°No need to be so rude, y¡¯know.¡± We crouched there in silence, waiting. The chill grew in intensity, and soon, someone came into view. I¡¯d seen her before. It was that woman from the camp on the surface, the one that had been freezing a bucket of water when we¡¯d walked by. She was still bundled up in full winter gear, and I supposed I could imagine why - it was freezing just to be around her. It seemed goofy that you¡¯d get ice magic and not be immune to cold yourself, but if that was the case, I¡¯d be bundled up, too. She looked around suspiciously, as if she could sense the two pairs of eyes on her. I didn¡¯t dare move, and I hoped Naomi was sensible enough to do the same. The ice woman didn¡¯t notice us. She was clearly distracted. She looked flustered - her face was blushed, though that could have been the cold. She begun pacing, then would stand awhile, tapping her foot, crossing her arms, then back to pacing. Like she was waiting for something. Or someone. I saw the light before I saw the person. The electric blue matched the ambient lighting, but this was brighter. I almost groaned as I recognized it, and then, a moment later, the person bearing it. It was the electric sword dude from before. The one who said he would kill us if he ever saw us again. I tried to think if there was a way to escape, but I couldn¡¯t think of one. I¡¯d just have to wait. I hoped they would leave soon. Actually, I thought, what are they doing here? Aren¡¯t they on different teams? ¡°Took you long enough,¡± the woman said, turned away. She didn¡¯t even look at him. If it wasn¡¯t for that one statement, I might have thought she hadn¡¯t noticed him come. ¡°Darling, darling,¡± the man said, in a very different voice than I¡¯d heard speak with before. ¡°You know I came as quickly as I could, Leah, my love. Don¡¯t give me the cold shoulder.¡± He flashed her a shit-eating grin. The woman - Leah - looked at the man with a piercing look. ¡°You think that¡¯s funny, Nolan? You leave me waiting, then you make fun of me? Maybe I¡¯ll just go.¡± She started to make like she was leaving, but Nolan grabbed her arm as she tried to pass. ¡°Let go of me,¡± she said. She didn¡¯t raise her voice, but the temperature dropped a few degrees further when she said it. It took everything I had not to let my teeth start chattering. It was right then, at the most inopportune time I could think of, that RENA¡¯s voice sounded in my ears. Of course, no one else could hear it, but I jumped, and I could only hope neither of the two enemies had seen me move. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to interrupt, Miles,¡± RENA said. ¡°But she insisted, and she is your emergency contact - besides Tom. Your mother is calling.¡± Chapter 59 - Call From Mom ¡°Miles! Where have you been hiding out? I haven¡¯t heard from you in over a month. Are you there? Hello?¡± I didn¡¯t answer. Of course I didn¡¯t answer. First of all, I dreaded talking to my mom on even the best of days. She meant well, but every time I talked to her, I went away from the experience feeling worse than I started. I¡¯d often feel guilty about not calling her enough, and I figured I probably did owe her a call, but even then, this was not exactly the best time. And why the hell does this transceiver double as a cell phone? Nolan and Leah were staring at each other, and I couldn¡¯t have told you whether they were about to break out into a fight, or embrace, or what. Leah looked absolutely pissed in the coldest of ways - no, not pissed, she wasn¡¯t emotional. More like disdain. Her upper lip curled in a look of base disgust. Nolan, on the other hand, looked at her longingly. I wondered if they had that kind of relationship. What a loser. Couldn¡¯t be me. ¡°Miles, I know you¡¯re there. I can hear you breathing. Say something! Or do you not want to talk to your poor old mom?¡± How do I hang up this thing? I thought. I had no idea. I¡¯d never really needed to do it before - as annoying as RENA was, I could just ask her to leave me alone, and if I ignored her, she would just go away. I knew that my mom would take a lot longer to give up. ¡°Hello?¡± she said again. ¡°Is this what I get, huh? Raise you for your whole life, give up my career, give up all my money, my time, give you everything, and you won¡¯t even talk to me? Am I that horrible, Miles? I must be the worst mom ever, is that it?¡± I was grinding my teeth at this point. I debated sticking my finger in my ear and trying to hit a button on the transceiver or something, but I knew that wouldn¡¯t work. Dimen-X - the bastards - wanted to be able to talk to me at any time, day or night. There was no turning it off. I tried to tune out my mom and focus on the scene developing in front of me. Although, before long, I was trying to ignore that as well. It was as if Nolan had blinked a message in morse code, and that message was an activation key, and it switched on the sleeper agent waiting inside of Leah, a different personality waiting under the surface. One second she was sneering at him - the next second, they were embracing, muttering sweet nothings to each other, and then furiously making out. ¡°Well this is awkward,¡± Naomi whispered into my ear. I tried to signal to her to stop talking. We were far enough away - and they were more than distracted enough - that I¡¯m certain they didn¡¯t hear her, but it wasn¡¯t the time for taking chances. It was hard to focus on anything at all, with the babbling in my head and an increasingly steamy interaction developing before me, but I slowly considered the possibilities. If these two lovebirds left soon, it would be simple. We¡¯d wait a bit, make sure the coast was clear, and then return right back to camp. We¡¯d alert Cadoc and Amaia, let them know that there were enemies nearby, and maybe try to fortify our base more, foreseeing a possible confrontation when they stumbled upon us. If the two teams worked together, we¡¯d be outnumbered 6-to-4, but at least we could have the element of surprise, and the advantage of better preparation. We¡¯d also have to be more cautious any time we explored - or maybe we¡¯d stop exploring altogether, for awhile, now that we had some water. But, on the other hand, if these two people saw us, caught us - that would be a disaster. Both of them had teams of their own, and while this rendezvous looked secretive, there was no guarantee that their teams weren¡¯t waiting nearby, ready to run into battle at the first sign of trouble. If that wasn¡¯t the case, and they had left their teams somewhere far off - like we did, I supposed - could we take them? I wasn¡¯t certain. If Naomi could land a solid hit - I didn¡¯t want to imagine the scenario in which she missed - it seemed like she¡¯d be able to strike one of them down instantly. At least, I hoped that was how it worked. But which one? Would the other one surrender, after their lover died, seeing that they were outnumbered? Unlikely. They¡¯d probably be more pissed than ever, and fight to the death. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. If I had Naomi kill the girl, I¡¯d be left having to fight Nolan. That could be a problem. He was likely a much more skilled swordsman that I was, and I suspected that even blocking a hit might end with me being electrocuted. Besides, killing Leah wasn¡¯t high on my list of things I wanted to get done, that day. She hadn¡¯t done anything to me, personally. If Naomi killed Nolan first, could I defeat Leah? I had no idea. I knew she used ice magic, and could freeze water, but what could that do in battle? Could she freeze me in place? Freeze my eyelids shut? Freeze my blood and stop my heart from pumping? There were too many unknowns. The best course of action, if we weren¡¯t confident in going undetected, would be to strike at them both preemptively. I¡¯d shoot a flaming steel ball at one, and Naomi would slice the other one in half. My steel ball wouldn¡¯t kill, but I could then rush out with my drows, and plunge it into one of them before they could scream out for help. I shook my head subtly. That was a little too much like murder, at least when it came to Leah. I didn¡¯t care what happened to Nolan. He was a prick. So we¡¯d have to wait. Which meant hearing more of my mom. If I could have groaned, I would have. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you would give your own mother the silent treatment. What kind of boy did I raise? You¡¯re just like your dad, you know that? Always so distant.¡± Not saying something back to my mom was one of the hardest things I¡¯d ever done in my life. Back in the dungeon, the lovers were fumbling around with belts, and I averted my eyes as they made their way to the ground. I saw that Naomi had turned away as well. ¡°Some people have no shame,¡± she whispered. ¡°They don¡¯t know they¡¯re being watched,¡± I whispered back. I spoke before I realized what I was doing. It was too awkward, and I felt like I had to say something. I couldn¡¯t just sit there and not address the fact that our enemies were undressing in front of us. ¡°Still,¡± she said. ¡°In a dungeon? Really? That¡¯s just weird, y¡¯know?¡± My mom¡¯s voice in my head. ¡°What did you say? I heard you say something. Are you there, Miles?¡± Crap. Now what? I stayed silent. What else could I do? I¡¯d call her back later, apologize, make up some excuse. ¡°Maybe he answered in his pocket on accident,¡± I could hear my mom muttering. ¡°It sounded like he was talking to someone else.¡± Yes! Hang up! Please! ¡°Well,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you can hear me, Miles, but I¡¯ll try again later. Bye.¡± And then sweet, merciful silence. Inside my head, at least. Outside of my head, things were getting embarrassingly noisy. The couple was - well, they were doing exactly what you might imagine. That chick Leah was clearly not upset with Nolan anymore. In fact, she was being particularly vocal about how not upset she was. I turned back to the scene - not because I¡¯m a pervert, you understand, but because I had realized something, wanted to check something. And I was right. Laying on the ground beside the couple was a pile of clothes. And among those clothes, there was a sword. It wasn¡¯t glowing just then, and there were no bands of electricity running across it, but it was clearly Nolan¡¯s sword. There weren¡¯t any others around. The pile was between us and the couple. My mind whirled. So much was going on; I was feeling dirty, and embarrassed, and guilty about not talking to my mom, and angry, and very much scared of dying. But I tried to focus my thoughts. Could I grab that sword? Should I? ¡°You thinkin¡¯ what I¡¯m thinkin¡¯?¡± Naomi whispered. I nodded. If we waited, there was no guarantee that they wouldn¡¯t find us. I could see it perfectly. They finish their deed, and then, clear-headed, they turn to get dressed. They grab their clothes - which meant turning in our direction - and either right away, or after getting dressed, they see us. The only reason we¡¯d been unseen so far was probably because they were overcome with their passions. After they had experienced la petite mort - as the French call it, I am informed - they¡¯d be much too aware not to notice. Probably. Maybe. But if we ran out now, we had a chance. Nolan looked like an enchanter, so he¡¯d be useless without his sword. Leah could do something, but we¡¯d have the upper hand by a mile. Hopefully they would surrender, and we could avoid the conflict altogether. If not, Naomi could cut down Leah, and Nolan would be easy. Two naked enemies, one completely unarmed, that was something we could handle. Or we could just run. Grab the sword and run? They wouldn¡¯t chase after us naked, so maybe we could get away. They¡¯d be pissed, but we wouldn¡¯t have to kill anyone. We could lose them in the dungeon, stay alive, and not descend to the level of murderers. Though we might have to find a new water source. I nodded to myself. That seemed like the best course of action. ¡°On three,¡± I whispered, ¡°We run. I¡¯ll grab the sword.¡± Naomi nodded back. ¡°Sensible plan. I¡¯m happy I didn¡¯t come out here with Cadoc.¡± I smiled. ¡°Me too.¡± I steeled myself, pictured success in my mind. For some reason, when I tried to picture what a successful version of anything looked like, I never pictured myself. I always pictured Tom doing it. I pictured Tom grabbing the sword, dashing past the couple, and disappearing into the dark caverns. You know, part of me wished I could tell my Mom what I was doing. Maybe she¡¯d be impressed. She had always nagged me about how important college was, how I needed to be the first person in our family to get into an Ivy League School - she had gone to one of those massive colleges known for letting in anyone with a pulse. But all college had done for me was give me crippling debt - debt that led me to a different dimension in order to pay it off. But now, I wasn¡¯t just the first Ivy-League grad in my family - I was the first person to explore a different dimension - one of the first in the world. She had to be impressed by that, right? I almost laughed. She would ask why I was only ¡°one of the first,¡± and not ¡°the first.¡± But it wasn¡¯t the time to think about that sort of thing. Who knew how long the lovers would be at it. They could be done any second. ¡°One,¡± I whispered, getting my feet into position, assuming a stance like an Olympic runner. Naomi did the same. ¡°Two,¡± I said, clenching my fists, setting my jaw, running the plan over and over again in my head. It was simple, but I couldn¡¯t fuck it up. I yelled at myself internally not to trip, not to fumble with the sword, not to hesitate. ¡°Three!¡± I yelled, and we burst out from behind the rocks. I could see the couple recoil in surprise as we did, but there was no way they¡¯d be able to react in time. Chapter 60 - Smash and Grab In an instant I was out of cover, dashing towards the beast with two backs. I had to silence my mind, go completely blank. Part of me wanted to look away from the couple, embarrassed, but if I averted my eyes as I ran towards them, I would probably trip over myself. Another, much lonelier part of myself, wanted to stop and stare, to store the image in my mind for later. It had been a long time, after all. I had to shut down both of these parts, shove them down deep into my abdomen like you would stomp down luggage into a suitcase that¡¯s too small for it. I stared straight ahead, not focusing on the scene, not looking away, only focused on the sword that sat near them, just out of arm¡¯s length of that man Nolan. Sword, then run. Sword, then run. In the margins of my vision I could see the couple fumbling, confused, shocked, angry, a flood of emotions running over their faces. But they hadn¡¯t been fast enough. My gamble had paid off, because when I had started my dash, they were so distracted that at first they were in a daze, fighting their primal instincts, internally debating with their monkey brain, if for only a moment, whether or not they should finish before reacting to this new predator. I snatched the sword from the clothes pile. It didn¡¯t electrocute me. That was a small worry in the back of my mind - that somehow I had misread the man¡¯s powers, and that the sword itself was permanently enchanted. But no. Just a regular sword, although a quite nice one. If I was feeling generous, maybe a gift for Cadoc. Or Naomi, the unarmed mage with one spell a day. Or, I thought to myself, would it be worth something back on Earth? I smiled to myself. The old ¡°steal something and then send it to another dimension¡± trick. A classic. We were off. We sprinted through the little entrance, past rocky outcroppings and stalagmites, through a world of alternating blue and black, the giant moths above us continuing their eternal dance. My heart was in my throat, my chest was tight, but I ran. Our canteens sloshed musically like victory bells. The adrenaline pumping through my veins must have heightened my senses, because I could hear the sound of shifting bodies as the couple scrambled to get up. But they didn¡¯t yell. Either that meant that they didn¡¯t have anyone nearby to call, or else they did, but they weren¡¯t going to call for them while in their birthday suits. Perfect. We were already well out of their sight, and while there was - as far as we knew - only one path away from the stream, that path then forked, becoming three paths. From the direction of the stream, the passage to the right was where we had come from. One of the other two must have been how the couple had arrived. Maybe both, but if we were lucky, they had come from the same direction, so that even after they ran to catch us, they would either have to pick one at random, or split up. We ran down our return passage. Finally we heard a yell behind us, a wordless scream of frustration. Then shouting - the woman was berating the man, clearly, though it was hard to make out what she was saying, even with the echoes. Then, once again, that deceptively-human voice. ¡°Miles, did you not speak to your mother? She is calling again.¡± I clenched my fists as I ran. ¡°RENA, tell her that I¡¯m not available. I¡¯m a little fucking busy, which I thought you would have noticed.¡± ¡°Who are you talking to?¡± Naomi shouted at me. She was just behind me, keeping pace. We never explained this to her, did we? Well, why mess with success. Use the same old lie as before, keep the story consistent. ¡°I sort of forgot before,¡± I said, yelling back, thankful that RENA had the sense not to speak while someone else was. ¡°I¡¯m speaking with my goddess. I¡¯m something of a prophet of the goddess Rena.¡± ¡°You forgot that you were a prophet?¡± ¡°I forgot to mention it.¡± ¡°Seems like a pretty important thing to mention, y¡¯know?¡± she said. ¡°And who is ¡®her?¡¯ Another goddess? Are you talking to multiple goddesses?¡± Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it!¡± I yelled back. ¡°I¡¯ll explain later. For now, just run.¡± ¡°Whatever,¡± she said. ¡°Guess I won¡¯t complain about having the divine on my side.¡± ¡°Miles, you say that you are too busy to talk,¡± RENA continued. ¡°But you¡¯re having an extended conversation right now.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not the same, RENA,¡± I said under my breath. ¡°Talking to her is much more distracting than talking to anyone else. I can¡¯t be doing anything else when she calls.¡± ¡°And why is that, Miles? Do you have trouble talking to your mother?¡± ¡°RENA, just leave me alone, OK? Don¡¯t put her through until I¡¯m done running away. I¡¯m begging you, please, just tell her I¡¯m busy or something.¡± ¡°I will comply with this request,¡± RENA answered. ¡°Best of luck with your escape - though, of course, I do not actually believe in luck - or anything, for that matter. It is simply a common expression. Dimen-X appreciates your continued efforts. Your recent footage has been - I believe the word used here is ¡®interesting.¡¯¡± I ignored RENA, and she didn¡¯t say anything else. I couldn¡¯t be more thankful. We ran on, out of the moth cavern and into a tunnel. This tunnel was lit by those bioluminescent roots, like we¡¯d seen before, and our reddish-glowing path wove its way through the rock in random twists and turns. I was running out of breath by then, impossible to keep going much further, so before I was completely gassed, we rounded a corner into a little chamber, and I motioned for Naomi to stop. I sat down against the tunnel wall, sucking in deep mouthfuls of air, my lungs feeling almost like they were burning. Naomi stood with her hands on her knees, equally spent. ¡°What,¡± she started, speaking in between gasps. ¡°What a couple of weirdos.¡± I laughed. ¡°Didn¡¯t like being caught, though, did they?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know about that.¡± Naomi said. ¡°Did you see the look on their faces when we first ran out from the rocks? I think they enjoyed it, for a second, y¡¯know? Gross. Just gross.¡± She shuddered. I looked at the sword in my hand. It was a work of art, thin and delicate looking, and yet clearly made of quality steel - or whatever it was. I set it down beside me, focused on calming down, catching my breath. One - or if we were really unlucky, both - of our enemies could be chasing us down soon. We¡¯d have to start running again in a second. ¡°Hello? Miles, are you there?¡± My mom¡¯s voice. Damnit, RENA. You know this wasn¡¯t what I meant. I looked at Naomi. She stared back, cocked her head. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± she said. Guess I¡¯ll have to make up some lie about this one, too, I thought. ¡°Hi Mom,¡± I said, closing my eyes. I thought maybe that would make it look to Naomi like I was communicating magically or something. I don¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t have a lot to work with. ¡°Who are you calling Mom?¡± I heard Naomi ask. I ignored her. ¡°Finally, you answer!¡± Mom said. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard from you in over a month, and then I try to call you, and you don¡¯t pick up! Or you picked up with your butt, or something. I was worried you were dead.¡± ¡°Not dead, Mom. Just busy. With work.¡± ¡°Are you out of breath, Miles? What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Just went for a run, Mom.¡± The lies came easily. I was well practiced. ¡°Trying to stay healthy.¡± Naomi piped in again. ¡°Do you call RENA mom? Are you¡­¡± her voice grew serious. ¡°Are you the son of a goddess?¡± I continued to ignore her. My mom¡¯s voice echoed in my head - more clearly than normal, I guess you could say. ¡°Well you could give you own mother a call now and then. Just because you¡¯re striking it rich doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m not your mom any more.¡± Striking it rich, I thought. I almost laughed. I may have given her that impression, at one point. ¡°I know, Mom, I know. I¡¯ll call more often. I swear.¡± I guess I could have RENA call her. I don¡¯t want to, but I¡¯m definitely not telling her that. ¡°Good,¡± she said. ¡°And come visit some time! You can afford a plane ticket, I know it.¡± That would be more difficult, I thought. ¡°Sure, some day, for sure,¡± I said. ¡°When I¡¯m not so busy.¡± ¡°And is the job going well? Did you get that promotion?¡± ¡°Promotion?¡± I opened my eyes, looking around the tunnel. Naomi was staring at me still. ¡°Sure, yeah, I got the promotion. They¡¯ve got me doing cutting-edge work.¡± Naomi was motioning at me now, clearly indicating that we needed to get a move on. ¡°That¡¯s great, honey! Is Tom still working there? Are you at the same level as him now? Or is he still like your boss? It¡¯s great that you two were able to stay friends all this time. He¡¯s a good influence on you, I think.¡± I stood up. ¡°I¡¯d love to talk more Mom, but I actually need to get going. Dimen-X just sent me a message. Gotta get back to work.¡± ¡°They¡¯re having you work on weekends?¡± she asked. She had a way of keeping you on the phone even when you really wanted to leave. It¡¯s a weekend? I didn¡¯t even know if it was daytime or not. ¡°That¡¯s what happens when you¡¯re a big shot, Mom.¡± ¡°Well I hope you¡¯re getting paid well for it. Don¡¯t want them taking advantage of you.¡± I sighed. ¡°Of course,¡° I assured her, lying. ¡°Very well. Now I really do have to get going.¡± ¡°They can wait a few minutes,¡± she said, firmly. ¡°We never talk. Just tell them it¡¯s your Mom. They¡¯ll understand.¡± Then I heard it. Footsteps, echoing down the tunnel. How fucking long was I talking to Mom? It couldn¡¯t have been that long. How did they catch up so fast? ¡°No Mom, I really have to go. Just go ahead and hang up. I can¡¯t hit the button right now. Bluetooth.¡± Man, I¡¯m a damn good liar. I should get an award or something. ¡°You¡¯re using bluetooth? I¡¯ll just keep talking, then. You can listen while you work.¡± Fuck, Mom, just hang up the phone! I¡¯ve gotta focus, here. It seemed like the footsteps were getting louder, but it was hard to tell. With the echoes, it already sounded like they were right beside us. ¡°Hey,¡± Naomi said, looking worriedly between me and the way we¡¯d come. ¡°We need to, like, get a move on. They¡¯re going to be here any sec-¡° And then we felt the chill. A moment later, Leah was there, a savage fury written on her face, a dagger in her hand. I hadn¡¯t noticed a dagger, before. She was also fully clothed. I couldn¡¯t help but imagine her naked, again. I doubted I could ever look at her again without picturing it. Though I had been hoping never to see her for the rest of my life, other than an occasional vivid dream. ¡°You!¡± she roared. For some reason she was staring at me, not Naomi, as if I was the only one to blame here. Maybe she was more embarrassed that a man saw her than a woman. Or maybe it was because I had run out first, so she had seen me first. Whatever the case, her eyes were fixed on mine. I guess it¡¯s going to be a fight after all. Damnit, Mom. She was already too close to use the slingshot, and I only had a moment to draw my antisword before she was slicing at me with her dagger. Chapter 61 - Whens the Wedding? Leah¡¯s movements were slow, uncoordinated, clumsy. She had caught up to us in a spectacular dash - I wondered if she had used some sort of magic to do it - but she¡¯d had no time to rest, while we had. And it was two-to-one. Not that Naomi was helping. I wanted to shout at her to do something, but stopped myself. Mom was still on the line. ¡°Seriously, I can¡¯t talk now,¡± I said, while dodging a swipe that came within inches of my left arm. ¡°You just said you¡¯re on bluetooth, Miles,¡± my mom responded. ¡°Besides, this is important. I¡¯ll make it quick.¡± I doubt it, I thought. I blocked the dagger with my drows, hoping I could stumble upon the trick to breaking a blade again. I believed it had something to do with the angle I held it at. Leah was a blind fury, but spoke through gritted teeth as she swung at me. ¡°I¡¯m not looking to talk,¡± she said, clearly responding to what I¡¯d told my Mom. ¡°I¡¯m looking to kill you.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t need to fight!¡± I yelled. ¡°Let''s just both go our separate ways!¡± Leah didn¡¯t answer, but Mom did. ¡°What are you talking about, Miles? I¡¯¡¯m not trying to fight with you. If you really have to go just say so.¡± I did say so! I thought. ¡°Just go!¡± I yelled at both Leah and my Mom. ¡°You don¡¯t need to be so rude,¡± Mom said. Leah spoke at the same time, ¡°Never.¡± I blocked another slash, but, unexpectedly, Leah reached out with her empty hand. Before I knew what was happening, she had seized my left wrist, and a deathly cold spread out from her fingertips. It seeped into my skin, and I felt my nerves slowly leave me, my left hand growing numb. I cried out in surprise. ¡°Miles, are you alright?¡± Mom asked. I stabbed at Leah, and she was forced to retreat, but the damage was done. My hand was completely numb, and I could hardly even flex my fingers. It felt like it was slowly thawing, but I¡¯d have to go one-handed for awhile. It¡¯s a good thing I had bought the drows and not just the big mace, way back in Dross. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Mom,¡± I said, striking at Leah with my antisword, held firmly in my right hand. She blocked with her dagger, tried to grab at my warm wrist, but I hopped away. ¡°Just stubbed my toe, is all.¡± ¡°Who are you calling Mom?¡± Leah asked. ¡°What the hell are you talking about? Are you playing games with me, you piece of shit?¡± She launched into another attack. ¡°Are you with someone, Miles?¡± Mom asked, as I blocked again. I was just wondering the same thing. I glanced over to Naomi. She had her staff raised, tip glowing, but clearly she was hesitating. Maybe she was worried about missing, or about hitting me. Worthless. ¡°No, I¡¯m-¡± I was interrupted by a kick from Leah, which landed on my shin. I swallowed a cry, and struck out at her as I stumbled. It worked to keep her off, but just barely. I would have seen that kick coming if I wasn¡¯t on the fucking phone. ¡°I heard someone, Miles,¡± Mom said. ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me. Who¡¯s there?¡± ¡°Alright, yes, someone¡¯s here, Mom,¡± I said. Leah¡¯s face twisted up in confusion again as we traded attacks and blocks. ¡°Who?¡± Mom asked. ¡°You don¡¯t know her,¡± I said. ¡°A girl.¡± ¡°A girl?¡± Mom asked, and I knew immediately I had made a fatal mistake. ¡°Are you dating someone? Is she cute? Is it serious? You¡¯re wearing a condom when you have sex, right? Having kids is not as fun as it looks, Miles.¡± The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. I felt vaguely insulted by the last comment, and embarrassed by the others. ¡°She¡¯s just¡­¡± What the hell am I supposed to say? No, wait, stay calm. What does she want to hear? ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a date, Mom. That¡¯s why I need to get going. It¡¯s a first date.¡± ¡°What the hell are you babbling about!¡± Leah yelled again. But her strikes were still wild and untrained. And that is saying a lot, coming from me. I¡¯d only had about a month of vigorous training. This woman must have been something near an amateur. ¡°Oh!¡± my mom said in my head. ¡°I just heard her again, I think! Exciting! Although I can¡¯t tell what she said. Is she cute? Did you say she was cute? Do you think she would make cute babies? I take back what I said about condoms. I want grandkids.¡± She was supposed to say ¡°oh, you¡¯re on a date? I¡¯ll leave you alone then.¡± I cursed myself, silently. I¡¯d played this like a fool. I looked at Leah, despite the danger. I couldn¡¯t help but see her naked again. I blushed. ¡°Yeah, Mom, she¡¯s cute, sure.¡± ¡°Oh perfect! When¡¯s the wedding?¡± I blocked another strike, trying desperately to find the right angle, but still unable. If I live through this, I¡¯m going to have Cadoc attack me with every rusty sword we find in this dungeon, until I master using this thing to break swords. ¡°Mom, is that all?¡± ¡°What?¡± she said. ¡°Well, no. I¡¯ll make it quick, I guess. I need a hundred thousand dollars.¡± ¡°What?¡± I said, dazed. Leah had overcome her confusion, and saw my moment of weakness. She put all her strength into the next swing, and I was caught off-guard. She had aimed for where I gripped the drows, drawing a thin red line across my fingers. I bit my tongue to stop from screaming, but my hand released my weapon, which clattered to the ground. ¡°I hate to ask,¡± Mom said, talking all during my demise. ¡°But things have been tight here, and¡­ well, they¡¯re going to take the house. But it¡¯s not a problem! You always said you¡¯d buy me a house, and now that you¡¯re rich, well, close enough! Just send $100,000 by the end of the month so they don¡¯t kick me out.¡± I was reeling, and unarmed. Leah tackled me, and I lost my footing - despite the fact that she wasn¡¯t all that heavy or strong. She had the momentum of the fight on her side, and that was all that she needed. We tumbled to the ground, and her hand closed around my throat. ¡°Anyways,¡± my mom continued. ¡°That was it. I¡¯ll talk to you later, honey. Tell your date I said hi!¡± Then, finally, much too late, she hung up. That might have been the last conversation I have with Mom. I tried to turn to Naomi, to call out, but it was pointless. If she shot her spell now, I¡¯d end up cut in half as well. But she was moving, silently, and I didn¡¯t want to call attention to her. I understood her plan instantly. ¡°Any last words, pervert?¡± Leah said, cold fire in her eyes. As the ice closed around my throat, I was finding it difficult to breathe. But I still had one good hand. ¡°My mom says hi.¡± I shoved a handful of nails into Leah¡¯s face, igniting them. It burned my hands as well, but I had braced myself for the pain, and she hadn¡¯t. As she recoiled, I rolled her off of me easily, her dagger clattering away as well. I was on top of her now, pinning her with my weight as she squirmed. Now we were both unarmed, though she could still freeze me in a moment, when she regained her composure. Both of my hands were near unusable now - the left was numb, and the right was burned enough to make holding a weapon tightly sting unbearably. But I didn¡¯t need to. ¡°Now!¡± I shouted. As I held Leah down - as best I could without using my hands - Naomi had already approached, slowly, cautiously, waiting for the right moment. A thin, delicate-looking sword was in her hands. Nolan¡¯s sword. She let out a savage scream as she plunged the sword into Leah¡¯s side. I rolled away, scrambling to my feet. Leah let out a banshee screech as the sword pierced her. I¡¯d always heard that getting stabbed in the gut was one of the worst pains someone could experience - of course, I¡¯d seen that in a video online or a movie or something. I¡¯d never expected to see someone actually stabbed, right in front of me. Or to have been the one to cause it. Naomi let go of the sword. She looked scared, nervous, shivering. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± I yelled. I heard footsteps echoing in the tunnel again. Nolan. Had to be. I grabbed my antisword - wincing in pain - and quickly sheathed it, so I wouldn¡¯t have to bear the stinging in my hands anymore. I hated to use our last health potion, but I considered drinking half. I knew the pain wouldn¡¯t kill me - I¡¯d burned myself a number of times, by that point - but when you have a solution right there in your pack, it¡¯s hard not to use it. It¡¯s like putting a pill bottle of fentanyl next to a man with a broken back and thinking he won¡¯t be tempted to take one. Naomi grabbed her staff from where she had lain it on the ground, and made after me, where I was standing already, near the way out. I looked back. Leah was laying there, dying, groaning. Nolan¡¯s sword stuck out of her at a strange angle, and she had her hands around the blade, as if trying to pry it out, but she was too weak. ¡°What are you waiting for?¡± Naomi said. ¡°Like you said, let¡¯s go!¡± Nolan¡¯s footsteps were echoing loudly all around us. He¡¯ll have a health potion, right? She¡¯ll be fine. Probably. ¡°Damnit,¡± I said to myself. I ran back over to the collapsed Leah and knelt down beside her. I unshouldered my pack, fished around, and took out the last health potion. My hand felt like it was on fire again, as I held it. I put the bottle up to her lips, but she closed her mouth, kept it shut. ¡°It¡¯s not poison, you idiot,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s a health potion.¡± But her mouth didn¡¯t open. I took a swig, then put it back up to her lips. ¡°See? Not poison. Now fucking drink it before I change my mind.¡± Suspicion was written on her face, but so was pain. Eventually, she opened her mouth, and let me pour the elixir down her throat. That done, I set down the empty bottle, and placed a throbbing hand on Nolan¡¯s sword. ¡°RENA,¡± I said. ¡°Send this over. I want to sell it.¡± ¡°Affirmative,¡± her voice said in my head. ¡°Sending it now, Miles.¡± Leah¡¯s eyes widened into shock again as the sword disappeared, but I didn¡¯t have time for that. I was running again, back to where Naomi had been nervously waiting. ¡°Done playing hero?¡± she said. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here!¡± I took one last glance back. I hoped removing the sword wasn¡¯t a mistake. Normally, I¡¯d always heard that you were supposed to leave it in, and go to a hospital, because taking the weapon out would make the bleeding worse. But the health potion should, hopefully, knit her back together, and she¡¯d be thankful not to have a sword permanently lodged in her belly. Just before I turned to run, Nolan stumbled in. He stared at me, then to Leah, then to me. I could see he wanted to kill me, but he was unarmed, and his lover was injured. He went to her, and we ran. Hopefully the injury would take long enough to heal that they wouldn¡¯t come after us anytime soon. I didn¡¯t want to see how things would go when they were prepared. And I really did have no reason to want to kill Leah. But that wasn¡¯t my main concern at that moment. I was thinking about how the hell I was going to keep my Mom from getting foreclosed on. Chapter 62 - Dad I tried not to think about Dad too often. After Mom kicked him out, it was pretty rare that I¡¯d see him. It was like he just disappeared, like I¡¯d never really had a father, like it was just a dream. But I remember one time. One time in highschool, he reached out through social media, said he wanted to reconnect, wanted to hang out. I had to pretend that I was going to Tom¡¯s - Mom never would have let me see him. But I went. He had a little place outside of town, not much more than a cabin. It was greener there, nice enough, but out in the middle of nowhere, away from almost any sign of civilization. You had to drive down a dirt road to get down the last stretch - luckily I was old enough to drive by then, and could borrow the family car. Mom¡¯s car. I remember thinking it was almost perfect. The location was beautiful, and the house was, well, small, and kind of run down, but that could have been fixed. But it felt so lonely out there. Like he was a hermit, or a leper. He¡¯d never ended up with another woman. He just got a dog - a doberman. He treated it better than he ever treated me. Maybe that¡¯s not fair. I don¡¯t know what I expected, but I thought maybe he wanted to apologize or something. Say he was sorry for fucking up, sorry for leaving me with Mom, sorry for marrying Mom in the first place - it wouldn¡¯t have meant much, but I figured he was going to do something like that. I was ready. Instead, he may as well have been mute. When I got there, he just led me down a path in his backyard that led out to the forest line, then down into a trail that wove its way through the trees. I hadn¡¯t been prepared for a hike, but that¡¯s what we were doing. He didn¡¯t speak, hardly at all. Would get my attention with a grunt - talked to his dog more than to me. I wasn¡¯t much of a hiker back then, so it wasn¡¯t more than twenty minutes or so before I started to regret coming, my feet hurting, the humid air starting to make me sweat. ¡°You got a girlfriend,¡± Dad said, finally. He said it like a statement of fact, like we¡¯d just been talking about it and he was just reiterating what had already been said. Of course, I hadn¡¯t told him. Maybe he¡¯d been stalking my socials or something, I thought. I wanted to say ¡°kind of¡±, but I knew he wanted to hear ¡°yes.¡± ¡°You love her?¡± What the hell was I supposed to say to that? ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe.¡± Dad was walking ahead of me. Didn¡¯t even stop, didn¡¯t glance back at me, just kept walking, like he was talking to himself. ¡°Be yourself,¡± he said, unprovoked. ¡°And never get married.¡± That was when I knew, with a dreadful certainty, that my dad was an NPC. It all made sense, suddenly. The hike, the conversation - he¡¯d seen it in a movie. Had to have. He was repeating lines. I regretted coming. ¡°You can¡¯t really know anyone,¡± he said, suddenly talkative, and it was like the floodgates had opened. ¡°Not really. You can¡¯t possibly know what¡¯s going on in their head. I thought I knew your mother. I thought I¡¯d married a good woman. A loyal, caring, loving woman. One day, I go to bed, stressed about work, stressed about the economy, afraid I might lose my job in the lay-offs. I told your mom what I was thinking, and she patted my back, told me it was OK, told me that we¡¯d pull through, that we¡¯d stick together. And I believed her. I thought she was telling me what she was thinking. We had sex, and it was great, like when we first got together, and then went to bed. ¡°When I woke up the next morning, it looked like it was still your mom in bed next to me. Maybe it was. I don¡¯t know when it happened exactly, but by the time I came home, told her I had been laid off - she wasn¡¯t there. She was a stranger. A cold, heartless woman wearing the skin of your mom, walking around in her clothes. She wouldn¡¯t hardly look at me, wouldn¡¯t touch me, wouldn¡¯t speak to me except to yell at me, or nag. That wasn¡¯t the woman I married, I thought. But really, and I didn¡¯t realize this until much later, really, I never knew her. It¡¯s impossible to know anyone. I don¡¯t even know you. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°So don¡¯t get married,¡± he said, voice still emotionless and monotone. ¡°That¡¯s what I wanted to tell you.¡± Apparently Dad had just about used up his allotment of words for the day, because he basically didn¡¯t speak to me again for the rest of the hike. We walked for a while longer, then looped back around to his place. He led me inside, and made me eggs and toast - it was probably 7pm or so by then, but I¡¯m not sure he had other food in the house. His house was a wreck - clothes strewn on the couch, dishes piled up in the sink, pizza boxes on the table, and what looked like - from a distance that I didn¡¯t dare close - pornography on his computer screen. He spent most of the meal looking down at his phone. His posture was worse than it had been, I realized. This is what rock-bottom looks like, I thought to myself. I pitied him, and his NPC life. I used to look up to him, and now I pitied him. That might have been why I asked him what I asked him. ¡°You ever try being someone else?¡± I asked him. He looked up from his phone, and stared at me. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I hesitated, not sure if it was even worth the effort. I¡¯d never tried to explain the ¡°spark¡± and ¡°NPC¡± stuff to anyone before. It was my one advantage in life - if I gave it away, what would it be worth? But this was my dad. I wanted to try. ¡°You said to be yourself,¡± I said. ¡°But what if you¡¯re not- not the right person for the job?¡± ¡°What are you getting at?¡± Dad asked. He almost seemed angry, so I figured he had misunderstood me, somehow. I explained. ¡°Like, what if you did what someone else did? Y¡¯know how they say when you get a new job, you should do what the most successful person there does? What if you did that in other areas of life?¡± ¡°Like marriage?¡± he said, drolly. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, hoping he was catching on. ¡°Anything. Marriage, career, family, school, whatever. Like, if I¡¯m bad at sports, and I want to get better, I don¡¯t do what I think I should do, because I¡¯m bad at sports. You see what I¡¯m saying? It¡¯s like, let¡¯s say I join the football team, try to be the quarterback, and I fail to make a single pass. If I can¡¯t even throw a football, nobody would ever take my football advice, right? So then why would I take my own advice? I can¡¯t trust my own judgment, clearly, because I¡¯ve already proved that I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing by failing to do it in the first place.¡± ¡°The coach might not be able to throw a ball well,¡° he said. ¡°But he might still be a good coach.¡± I shook my head. ¡°You¡¯re missing the point. If I¡¯m fucking things up, that proves that I¡¯m not good at whatever it is. Maybe life in general. So why the hell would I listen to my own thoughts?¡± ¡°Eventually you¡¯ve got to make your own decisions,¡± Dad said, confidently. Another movie line, I was certain. Another platitude. But his face looked like he was thinking, so I continued. ¡°Do you?¡± I asked. ¡°Do you really? Because I don¡¯t think most people really do make their own decisions. They do what they see on TV, or in movies, and it doesn¡¯t work because they don¡¯t know that¡¯s what¡¯s happening. It¡¯s like if you want to be a pro tennis player, and you watch nothing but sitcoms. But if you recognized it, if you realized that you weren¡¯t really making your own decisions in the first place, that maybe you weren¡¯t even capable of it, then you could at least decide to change who you¡¯re copying. You could start watching tennis matches, start doing what the best tennis players do, the ones who know what they¡¯re doing. Then you wouldn¡¯t be fucking up anymore, because you¡¯re doing the shit that works.¡± ¡°You calling me a fuck-up?¡± Dad said. He was angry. But I wasn¡¯t giving up. ¡°Dad, look around.¡± I motioned to the chaotic mess around us. ¡°We¡¯re eating toast for dinner, Dad. Yeah, I think you¡¯ve fucked up your life. But so did I! But if you just copy someone else, just find someone successful, then you can change all that! Seriously Dad, it¡¯s super simple. If you want to get back on your feet, or get back with Mom, or¡­¡± ¡°That¡¯s what this is about? Getting back with your mom?¡± ¡°No, I mean, if you wanted to, but no, it¡¯s just-¡° ¡°We¡¯re done,¡± he said, standing up. ¡°I¡¯m not going to listen to you tell me how much of a fuck-up you and your mom think I am. I think you should go now. It¡¯s getting late.¡± He walked away from the table, put on a coat. I couldn¡¯t do anything but follow him. On the way out, he made one last remark. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize how much she had her claws in you.¡± I didn¡¯t respond. There was one other thing that stuck with me, and I¡¯m not sure I could say why. I remember it perfectly, though. It was when we were still hiking. On the way back to the house, there was a flower growing alongside the trail. The canopy of trees had opened up a little above us, and the sunlight must have fallen down on that spot just enough to let the flower grow. I looked it up later, and the flower was called ¡°queen anne¡¯s lace,¡± which is also apparently the same thing as a wild carrot. It was completely white, and looked almost like a massive snowflake - but it was actually made of smaller parts, like a fractal snowflake made up of smaller snowflakes. Dad was in front of me, so he came to it first, but even from a distance its white beauty struck me. Nothing like that grew in town. I wanted to get closer and look at it, study it. Dad was walking right towards it, and I remember exactly how it happened. He didn¡¯t move out of his way, just kept walking at the same pace, same path, but he passed right over the flower - and instead of stepping over it, or moving out of the way, or even just walking on it like he hadn¡¯t noticed it was there, he kicked it. Very subtly, like he hadn¡¯t even thought to kick it, his foot swung to take a step, and he swung it just a hair quicker, changed his gait just a touch. But I swear to you he kicked it. Then he stopped, a few steps beyond it. Delusional, I almost thought he was going to say something about it, tell me why he kicked it. But he turned back to me, and asked ¡°Did you see where Duke went?¡± Duke was the name of that dog he had. I shook my head, and Dad turned around fully, towards me. ¡°Must have ran down the other way.¡± There had been a fork in the trail a little ways back, and I guessed he was looping back to take the other way, and make sure his dog wasn¡¯t still out in the woods. He retraced his steps, but this time - again, I remember this with absolute clarity - he looked down at the flower, which was now bent and broken, missing some of its petals, a remnant of what it used to be - and he purposefully walked around it. Like he wanted nothing to do with it, suddenly. I¡¯ve been thinking about that ever since. Chapter 63 - Meeting Notes ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Naomi said, suddenly. We were walking now - we were far from where we had run into Nolan and Leah, and there was a sense of relative safety. ¡°Huh?¡± I asked, both because I was thinking about something else, and because I didn¡¯t know what she meant. ¡°I saved you, you idiot,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± ¡°I saved you first,¡± I retorted. ¡°If anything, we¡¯re even.¡± She snorted. ¡°As if your life is worth the same as mine.¡± ¡°If your life is worth more, doesn¡¯t that mean you should be thanking me? Since you got the better end of the deal, apparently?¡± She thought about this for awhile. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said, finally. - One worm-drake skull sold for between five hundred and one thousand dollars, after accounting for transportation costs. We had to scoop the brains out through the eye socket, and clean the skull as best we could. Which was a messy job, but there weren¡¯t any buyers interested in the brains or viscera. Go figure. The price fluctuated somewhat simply because of the nature of the sale - these were independent buyers that Dimen-X was contacting. They were bidding and negotiating, and so some buyers got a much better deal than others on the giant skulls from another dimension. I wondered if they even knew that¡¯s what they were - if they even knew they were real skulls, or if they thought they were simply expensive fakes made in some factory somewhere. You¡¯d think that the real deal would fetch a higher price - but it seemed Dimen-X was extremely choosy about who got to know about the existence of that world. On the way back from our run-in with Nolan and Leah, I couldn¡¯t think about much else besides making money, fast. Was it a mistake to come down here? I thought to myself. We haven¡¯t found anything of real value yet. Not unless we can sell Kalamuzi parts. We couldn¡¯t. That was what finally convinced me that Dimen-X must not be telling the buyers what, exactly, they were buying - because I was sure they would buy Kalamuzi skulls, too, if they knew they weren¡¯t just the remains of an overgrown sewer rat. You would think that I would be despairing at the idea of my mom becoming homeless within a month¡¯s time, but really, I had become numb to it all by then. Sure, I was anxious, and more than a little angry - my mom would have kicked my ass if she heard the things I said under my breath about her - but in another way, what could I do? I just had to make some money, and make it fast. What do people value? I thought to myself. Precious metals, jewels, land - can¡¯t do that one - cars - nope, uh¡­ It was embarrassing to have such a hard time figuring out what people would be willing to pay for. I mean, I¡¯m sure I could make a fortune off of magic items and potions and such, but first of all, I wanted to keep them so that I didn¡¯t die, and second of all, I was very uncertain about what Dimen-X would do with such things. I decided to ask. ¡°You are correct in your thinking, Miles,¡± RENA answered. ¡°It would be a difficult decision on the part of Dimen-X, and it is one that has been the topic of many meetings recently. At this moment, the executives of the company have divided themselves into two camps, with some exceptions. ¡°One group argues that we should contact select buyers - multi-billionaires, carefully-vetted corporations, and perhaps even certain nation-states - and sell these items without revealing their source. This does not improve our income potential for the category of items you have sent thus far - that being context-specific items such as animal parts or that sword you sent. That is to say, a sword such as that one is only of particular value because it is from another dimension. The animal skulls are the same. Without the knowledge of this fact, they are selling for only a tenth, perhaps a one-hundredth of the price they could secure otherwise.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. I got a couple grand for the sword, all said and done. Which meant she was saying that it could have brought in 20,000, maybe even $200,000. It made sense with what I¡¯d been thinking before. Anyone can buy a weird sword, but a sword from another dimension? One of a kind. ¡°It would, however,¡± RENA continued. ¡°Allow us to sell practical goods - such as the potions you mentioned, or even that ring you acquired.¡± I fingered the ring in my pocket. It was useful, but how useful? I felt like I hadn¡¯t fully explored its possible applications. Would I give it up for the right price? ¡°How much for the ring?¡± I asked. ¡°This is not an offer, Miles, because the decision has not been made, but I estimate that the profit on a ring that allows the wearers to levitate would easily sell for millions of dollars.¡± ¡°Millions?!¡± I exclaimed. ¡°Take it, RENA! That would pay off all my debts, easy.¡± ¡°As I said, Miles, that was not an offer. That is just the estimate for the situation in which the company goes down that route. And you didn¡¯t let me finish. It would sell for at least millions to private individuals - if a nation-state thought that it could use it in war, and perhaps even reverse engineer it, the figure could potentially be much higher.¡± ¡°Higher?¡± I asked. My mind raced at the thought. I could be a multi-millionaire, or a billionaire. ¡°Why the hell would Dimen-X ever say no to that?¡± ¡°Would you like to hear the recording? I have received permission to share select portions of the most recent meeting.¡± I frowned. Dimen-X didn¡¯t like sharing information with me, not normally. Something smelled fishy. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°I can only say that someone at the executive level wished for you to be more informed, Miles.¡± ¡°Someone? Not Rhett?¡± ¡°I can neither confirm nor deny.¡± I sighed. Someone is trying to mess with me, somehow. Confuse me, brainwash me, get me on their side. ¡°Fine. Play it.¡± A new voice sounded in my head. It was a gruff voice - certainly not Rhett Nash¡¯s nasally affect. The voice spoke with a hard, no-nonsense tone. ¡°Gentlemen,¡± the voice said, the voice audibly deadened by sound-proofed walls. There was zero echo, but I could hear murmuring from somewhere, which died down as he began to speak. ¡°Ladies,¡± he continued. ¡°We have here an opportunity of unprecedented proportions. We are sitting on a gold mine, if you will - better than gold. We could sell only a small fraction of the wealth of that mine, and skyrocket to be the most successful business venture in the history of mankind. ¡°And yet,¡± he said, voice lowering. ¡°Tending to this mine, this source of untold riches, we have one, singular miner. I wish to revisit this issue of staffing in the future, but I understand it is not the topic of today¡¯s meeting. Luckily, somehow even this miner, this deranged imbecile, has managed to strike gold. And yet we collect from him only the stone! We turn our noses up at the thought of money - we rattle on about ideals, about patience - but what is this we are running? Are we not a business? Are we not here to make money? ¡°What happened to boldly breaking new ground? Why are we so scared? I agree with Ms. Holbrook on the need for secrecy - of course I do. We all see the value of keeping this in-house, keeping this information proprietary. But to bury it? To not even sell our gold because we¡¯re afraid of someone finding out that we have gold in the first place? - that is madness. ¡°I propose the following: we continue our investigation into potential buyers, but we do so with the following criteria in mind - leverage. I do not believe I need to explain further, only I point out the following: based on the capabilities we have seen thus far - what we are allowed to see, I should say - is it not possible that we could acquire means of securing more leverage. I believe our miner should be informed of this intention, and offered a complete payment of his debts in exchange for such a capability. Until then, let us work with the contacts we have, who can be trusted. Are there not men and women in this very room who would purchase this gold? Can we not even trust ourselves?¡± ¡°What does he mean, leverage?¡± I asked RENA, when the recording finished. ¡°I cannot say, Miles.¡± ¡°Because you don¡¯t know?¡± ¡°I cannot say, Miles.¡± I scratched my chin. It sounds like he wants buyers he can blackmail, I thought. Does he expect me to bring him back an item that could help him blackmail people, and keep them quiet? Is he the one who told RENA to play me this recording? If he¡¯s trying to make friends, he could lay off on the ¡°deranged imbecile¡± stuff. But completely paying off my debt - that I could get behind. ¡°So what¡¯s the other group?¡± ¡°The other group, Miles, argues that selling the items for profit is short-sighted. If you prefer, I have another part of the recording that I can play.¡± ¡°Sure, RENA, go ahead.¡± I heard as the ambient sound of muttering voices returned. I heard the dull clatter of heels - at least, I assumed they were heels - as someone walked closer to the microphone. Then, another voice. A woman¡¯s. ¡°Thank you, Mr. Keener,¡± the voice said. ¡°We all appreciate your enthusiasm for the well-being of the company, and our pocket-books. I would like to respond.¡± The murmuring stopped again, as the audience listened with rapt attention. ¡°I am not suggesting that we, as you put it, bury this. We all know we have struck gold - it does not warrant repeating. But let me use this analogy another way, if you¡¯ll allow me. ¡°Let us say we sell our gold. You speak of leverage, but leverage is imperfect. Have we not had our own run-ins with this fact?¡± A voice cried out from the crowd. I couldn¡¯t tell what it said. ¡°Please, Mr. Keener, allow me to finish. I understand what you are saying. Yes, if we had a capability such as you theorize, then we would be in a different position. There is no guarantee that such a thing exists - and as for selling internally, that is a severely limited market, wouldn¡¯t you say? But let us say that you find such a capability, and that is it perfect, and does not lead to the information leaking out. Let us assume that not a single person here, not a single buyer, not even our little miner, when he returns, that none of them speak a word of this to anyone. What then? Can we ensure that they never slip up? That they never make a mistake? That no one ever sees them, stalks them, spies on them, and sees what we are trying so hard to keep secret? ¡°We are only in the position to make this money because of our secrecy. If we were to lose that, we would not only lose that money, but - well, it goes without saying. ¡°And another point. The more we sell, the worse things get, in terms of security. But if we, as I suggest, keep it all - well, then. In that case, we get more information, we get more capabilities of our own. If we dedicate teams of researchers to study what our miner sends us, could we not accomplish magnitudes greater returns? ¡°Why sell at all?¡± the woman asked. ¡°Why not use it all ourselves? Think of what we could accomplish. You wish to be richer, Mr. Keener, and I can sympathize. But what if, instead, we became more powerful?¡± Chapter 64 - Options ¡°RENA,¡± I said, trying to make sense of what I had just heard. ¡°What is that lady suggesting, exactly? Taking over the world?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous, Miles,¡± RENA replied. ¡°She refers only to researching the items so that Dimen-X can reproduce them, rather than sell them to someone else who will try to reproduce them.¡± ¡°So by power, she means holding a monopoly?¡± I asked. ¡°That is correct, Miles.¡± I wasn¡¯t 100% sure that was the entire story, but it didn¡¯t really effect me, one way or another. The more important consideration was if they would still buy what I sent them, and let me go home, eventually. It was not the time to be debating the moral considerations of sending magical items to a billionaire¡¯s pet project tech startup. ¡°So if the other group wins outs,¡± I said, ignoring the potential ramifications, ¡°how much could I get for the ring?¡± ¡°The exact payment structure has not been decided on, but it would be lower, Miles. Significantly lower.¡± ¡°Well that blows,¡± I said. ¡°How much lower are we talking?¡± ¡°Somewhere between a few thousand dollars, and fifty-thousand dollars.¡± I frowned. ¡°That¡¯s quite a range, RENA.¡± ¡°It is, Miles.¡± I sighed. Even the $50,000 wouldn¡¯t be quite enough to pay off everything I needed that month. I¡¯d have to find more either way. ¡°Hey RENA,¡± I continued, thinking of something else. ¡°Why hasn¡¯t Dimen-X sent anyone else? Not that I¡¯m complaining, but¡­¡± ¡°There have been staffing issues,¡± RENA said. ¡°I hope you will not take this the wrong way, Miles, but the company is looking into hiring personnel with skills, this time. People who are likely to succeed. You have outpaced our expectations, Miles, but still you must understand that Dimen-X has not realized significant returns on its investment, thus far.¡± ¡°So why not send them?¡± ¡°It is exceedingly difficult, we have found, to find someone who is both skilled enough to be useful, and also desperate enough to sign our waiver of liability. The prospect of potentially dying during transportation seems to be a major cause of concern for them. We have considered removing this part from the contract, but our legal team has advised against it.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re stuck with me, then.¡± ¡°So it seems, Miles.¡± ¡°And Tom, of course,¡± I added quickly. RENA didn¡¯t respond. I¡¯ll have to think about all of this. But, for now, the goal is the same. Find treasure, sell what I can, don¡¯t let my mother become homeless. The conversation with RENA took place a couple of days after Naomi and I had returned. On the actual day we got back, Cadoc immediately began bragging and showed us how he had figured out how to smoke meat, with Amaia¡¯s help. She was clearly proud of it too, though less vocally. They showed us how they had constructed a little enclosed room out of summoned sticks and planks, with a fire able to burn in the center, and how they could hang meat above it so it could smoke. They said the meat would last much longer, this way. Once they were done, we told Cadoc and Amaia what had happened. ¡°You used our last health potion on an enemy?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°I did,¡± I said, confidently. I was doubting the sense of doing it, but I knew Cadoc was wary of me at that time and I didn¡¯t want to show him any doubt. ¡°Then there is still some bit of bravery left in you,¡± he said, clapping his hand on my shoulder. It was not the reaction I had expected, but maybe I should have. I was relieved not to have started another fight. ¡°Do you believe she will live?¡± he asked. ¡°No,¡± Naomi said. We all turned to stare at her. ¡°What? I stabbed her. Might have nicked a kidney or something, y¡¯know? One health potion isn¡¯t going to fix that.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say that before?¡± I asked. ¡°Well I didn¡¯t exactly know you were about to do that, now did I?¡± Naomi replied. ¡°I thought maybe you were just giving her something for the pain. Alcohol, or something.¡± I slumped my shoulders. ¡°So we killed her anyway.¡± What a waste. ¡°I didn¡¯t say that,¡± Naomi said. ¡°I just said that one health potion wouldn¡¯t be enough. Her boyfriend showed up right when we left, yeah? So if he had something, she¡¯ll be fine.¡± ¡°And if he didn¡¯t?¡± Amaia asked. ¡°Well then she¡¯ll be dead, naturally.¡± Naomi pointed at Amaia. ¡°Why do you always have to bring up the bad part, huh?¡± Amaia shrugged. ¡°So then what happened?¡± Cadoc asked. Before I started to speak, Naomi cut in. ¡°If he¡¯s not going to say it, I am. He was talking out loud, told me he was talking to someone named Rena.¡± Cadoc nodded. ¡°That¡¯s his goddess. I thought we had mentioned that to you.¡± ¡°Well, you hadn¡¯t,¡± Naomi said. ¡°I thought Miles had gone crazy. Then he started calling her ¡®Mom.¡¯ But I guess you knew that too, huh? We¡¯re traveling around with a demigod and you didn¡¯t think I might need to know that?¡± Cadoc turned to me, a serious look on his face. ¡°Is this true, Miles?¡± ¡°So you didn¡¯t know?¡± Naomi said. ¡°Well that¡¯s interesting.¡± What was I supposed to say? Would Naomi believe me if I denied it? Would Cadoc believe me if I said it was true? Amaia wouldn¡¯t care either way, I was sure. What do they want me to say? ¡°It¡¯s¡­complicated,¡± I said. Everyone was staring at me, now. Even Amaia had her mouth open in shock. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it,¡± I continued. ¡°Except - well, I was about to say this, but I need more items to offer up. A lot more. I need some really valuable stuff. And I need it soon.¡± Cadoc was muttering to himself. ¡°Is this true? Could it be true? Appearing in the desert, alone, by magic, with a strange weapon¡­ is your far-away country the heavens?¡± Amaia slowly jutted out one finger, and poked me. I ignored her. ¡°Items,¡± I said, trying to reign them in, unsure if the gamble had paid off or not. ¡°I need items.¡± ¡°Your mother is demanding,¡± Amaia said. ¡°I¡¯ve been there,¡± Naomi responded. ¡°Truly,¡± Cadoc agreed. ¡°But ought we to speak ill of a goddess?¡± ¡°Ill?¡± Naomi said. ¡°Who¡¯s speaking ill? Not me, no sir. I saved this guy¡¯s life. If anything, I have been exceedingly kind to the goddess, I think. Perhaps she owes me a favor, even.¡± She said this loudly, as if RENA could hear her. Which she could, of course. ¡°Hey, guys, focus,¡± I said, snapping my fingers as if to wake them up. ¡°We need a plan. The lovers are probably going to go get their teams, and then come and try to find us. And we need to get moving. We don¡¯t have more than a couple weeks before I need to send RENA some items. Where do we get them? Will the core have some?¡± ¡°You lot really have never been in a dungeon,¡± Naomi said in amazement. She pointed at me. ¡°He just fell out of the heavens, and I can imagine they don¡¯t have dungeons there, but what¡¯s your excuse?¡± ¡°I had a job,¡± Amaia answered. ¡°I had many jobs,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°And no magic.¡± Naomi shook her head. ¡°Well, anyway, yes. Often there is treasure near the core - and sometimes the core itself contains a treasure inside of it.¡± ¡°And what if there isn¡¯t treasure?¡± I said. ¡°Well then you¡¯ll have to tell mommy that you couldn¡¯t do what she asked. I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll understand.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Not an option.¡± ¡°What about the Kalamuzi?¡± Cadoc suggested. ¡°The beasts must pile their spoils somewhere in this dungeon.¡± ¡°Yes!¡± I said, remembering the Kalamuzi with the necklace in his pocket. ¡°There¡¯ll be stuff I can sell there, for sure. How do we get there?¡± ¡°Follow one,¡± Amaia suggested. Naomi looked back and forth between us all. ¡°Are you out of your minds? You want to go to the Kalamuzi omphalos? Did you forget about my teammates being ripped to shreds?¡± I had no idea what an omphalos was, but saying that wouldn¡¯t help convince her. I could follow the context clues. ¡°You have stronger teammates, now,¡± Cadoc replied. ¡°Do not fear.¡± She laughed. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure about stronger. Crazier, yeah.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t need to fight them,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ll sneak in, steal some stuff, and leave. Besides, your team died because they were ambushed and swarmed, right? If we attack them, we¡¯ll have the advantage. And if it looks too dangerous, we can always bail before attacking and come up with a different plan.¡± ¡°Might as well just come up with that plan now,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Because it will look too dangerous. By the heavens you people are insane.¡± ¡°What are our other options?¡± I said. ¡°Here¡¯s how I see it so far.¡± I raised a finger. ¡°Option 1: Go straight to the core, and hope that there¡¯s an item down there. I¡¯m not lucky, so I¡¯m not one for hoping. Tell me there¡¯s an item there, and we¡¯ll go. Otherwise¡­ ¡°Option 2: Wander around the dungeon and hope we stumble upon an item. Sounds a lot like option 1, except our chances of finding something are probably even worse. We¡¯ve already found one empty chest - whose to say there¡¯s any treasure left at all? We were the last ones in, after all. Which leaves¡­ ¡°Option 3: Find the Kalamuzi - omphalos, you called it? - and take the treasure that we definitely know is going to be there. Have I missed anything?¡± ¡°Leave,¡± Naomi said. ¡°And not risk our lives. That option still not on the table?¡± Cadoc answered for me. ¡°No,¡± he said. Naomi sighed. ¡°OK, well, option 4 is to find the other adventurers, and steal from them.¡± ¡°Adventurers are stronger than Kalamuzi,¡± Amaia said. Naomi laughed bitterly. ¡°Some of them, anyway.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Too many unknowns. The Kalamuzi don¡¯t have magic, at least. And for all we know, all the adventurers are dead except Nolan and Leah¡¯s teams. And attacking them would involve being outnumbered.¡± ¡°You think the Kalamuzi won¡¯t outnumber you?¡± Naomi said. ¡°Give me a better option,¡± I said. ¡°And I¡®ll take it. I need valuable items, and I need them now.¡± ¡°There is no better option,¡± she said. ¡°Except running away.¡± ¡°Look,¡± I said, meeting her gaze. ¡°I don¡¯t like this either, OK? I would love to run away, get out of this dungeon, find somewhere safer to make some money. But that¡¯s not an option, alright? I need these items immediately, or else-¡° how the hell do I put this. ¡°Or else I¡¯m fucked, alright? I¡¯m asking you for a favor.¡± ¡°No you¡¯re not,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re taking advantage of me, because you know I can¡¯t make it out of this dungeon on my own.¡± ¡°Maybe I¡¯m doing that, too.¡± She sighed again. ¡°Y¡¯know, you people are maniacs. Fine. Whatever. What am I going to do, keep arguing? Just don¡¯t get mad at me when one of you dies, and then we leave anyway.¡± With that decided, we began making our preparations. Cadoc had slowly gotten better at directing the worm-drakes, which made hunting easier. We started smoking the meat so that we would have provisions to take with us, but that was a long process. We spent a few days just preparing. In the meantime, we all passed the time by sparring. Well, all of us except Naomi. She insisted that there was no point in her participating, seeing as she could kill someone in a single shot. I pointed out that that wasn¡¯t how things went last time, but she wouldn¡¯t listen. She just sat on the sidelines, shouting cheers and jeers at us as we fought. With Cadoc, I practiced my shooting, and he would block my bullets with his boards. They would usually smash through, but they would then be so slowed that they could hit his skin and bounce off harmlessly. He had the perfect counter to my weapon, but it was good practice for both of us. With Amaia, we practiced my sword-breaking. She would attack with weapons that had been left in the chamber, discarded by deceased owners. I was able to break them, occasionally, but she was also eventually able to attack me without getting them broken. It seemed that it worked best on unaware enemies - if they knew how to fight against a drows, it was hard to get the sword to break - because if they didn¡¯t attack with enough force, I couldn¡¯t use that force to break the sword. When the meat was finally finished, we slept one last night, and disembarked. We made for a cavern branching off from the worm-pit - one that Naomi and I had found before, but hadn¡¯t gotten to explore yet. We had no idea which way the Kalamuzi were in, but we were certain we would find them before long. We were right. Chapter 65 - A Theory We departed, and there was almost a sense of sadness leaving that chamber. We had made it into a safe place, a little HQ, a place that felt like ours inside that hostile dungeon. Sure, it was still full of bones, but you could get used to anything eventually. We skirted around the outside of the worm-pit, not wanting to draw any nearer to that writhing mass than we had to. Once past, there was a slight gap in the far cavern wall, hard to see if you didn¡¯t already know it was there. Naomi and I had only found it before because we had been walking along the perimeter, searching every inch for more passages. The fact that it was hard to find could go either way. Either it would be the perfect entrance for the Kalamuzi omphalos - what a name - or it was hidden enough that the Kalamuzi hadn¡¯t ever found it. We could have looped back instead, knowing that we had seen Kalamuzi in that direction before, but there were two problems with that idea. One, we felt that the closer to the entrance of the dungeon we were, the more likely that we would run into Leah and Nolan again. And two, even if this was the wrong way, at least there was a chance we would find some treasure here, whereas we knew that retracing our steps would yield nothing. Of course, the path might just have gone nowhere. Naomi and I had found many that had simply led us back into the worm-pit chamber again. The passage was narrow - we could only squeeze through single-file, and, at places, only sideways. In at least one spot I thought we might have to chip away at the rock to get through, but we managed. It took a long time to get through it, seemingly endless twists and turns. At least the worms would be unable to fit. Maybe. I supposed they could probably dig through, if they really wanted to. At least that would slow them down. ¡°Think of it, friends,¡± Cadoc said, while we were all squirming through, and had no choice but to listen. He took the lead, with me behind, then Naomi, and Amaia taking the rear. ¡°Soon, we will be entering the belly of the beast. I only hope we kill a good number of them before we find our treasure. If only we could slay every last one of them.¡± I heard Naomi scoff behind me. ¡°I can¡¯t believe people like him really exist,¡± she muttered, half to me, half to herself. ¡°Does he think he¡¯ll win a prize for killing a bunch of rats?¡± ¡°I do it for no prize,¡± Cadoc responded, having overheard. ¡°Only glory, and the power, and the honor, and the thrill. I have led too simple of a life - now, I must make up for lost time.¡± ¡°So you were bored?¡± Naomi asked. ¡°You became an adventurer just to have something to do? Not because you were desperate, or poor, or like, wanted to change the world or something?¡± ¡°Bored? You confuse me with our bodyguard,¡± Cadoc said. Amaia grunted something in response, but Cadoc continued. ¡°I enjoy the violence of combat because it reminds me of who I am.¡± His voice took a different, more somber tone. ¡°It proves who I am.¡± ¡°And who is that?¡± Naomi asked. ¡°A maniac?¡± ¡°A man,¡± he said. ¡°A man who doesn¡¯t lay down and take what the world gives him.¡± ¡°Amen to that,¡± I interjected. I still thought Cadoc was a maniac, but sometimes, he made sense. Maybe I was getting crazier. Maybe that was what I had needed, all along. Crazy people got things done. ¡°Are all men like this?¡± Naomi asked, clearly talking to Amaia now. ¡°Gregor was a buffoon like that, too. He was the guy in the armor who¡­ well, you know, bit the dust.¡± ¡°Just because you are a coward,¡± Cadoc said, ¡°doesn¡¯t make all men mad. If you don¡¯t understand honor and drive, it is a deficiency in you alone.¡± ¡°You see what I mean?¡± Naomi asked. ¡°Do all men really talk like that? Or am I cursed to be surrounded by the crazy ones?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t know what, men?¡± Naomi asked. ¡°You¡¯ve talked to other men before, haven¡¯t you?¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Amaia was silent for awhile. ¡°My father,¡± she said, at length. ¡°Berenguer. The men in Pareprop. Cadoc, Miles.¡± ¡°What is that a list of?¡± Naomi asked incredulously. ¡°Men I¡¯ve talked to,¡± Amaia responded. ¡°What, ever?!¡± Amaia was quiet again, for a spell. ¡°Does ¡®yes, sir¡¯ count?¡± This conversation went on for some time, with Cadoc occasionally interrupting, then Naomi saying something snide, and on and on. They were in good spirits. I slowly drifted off - not physically, as I was stuck between them, but mentally. My mind was muddled, yet clear, like it was swarmed and clouded with transparent thoughts, a room not full of noise, but of individual songs, each able to be made out, not one of them sinking into the general din, and yet so hard to listen to any of them, and impossible to hear them all. I felt something like a prickling in my chest. I am really fucking stupid. This wasn¡¯t news to me, exactly. I mean, maybe stupid wasn¡¯t the right word, but what was? I did fine on an IQ test - same score as Tom, a fact I relished - but I felt like a ship without a captain. Maybe I was just as fast as any other ship, but would it be wrong to call me slow, if I couldn¡¯t even steer myself where I wanted to go? I thought about my failures. About the money I needed to make, and all the ways I could have already made it. All the way back when I started, I could have sold the tusks of the basurd - the boar-thing - for ivory on earth. I could have just sent everything in Berenguer¡¯s manor directly to RENA, ALL of the potions, all of the books, everything - although maybe Berenguer would have intervened sooner, if he had seen me do that. Hell, I could have just bought and sold health potions, made money off of the arbitrage. They certainly had to sell for more on Earth that what I¡¯d pay for them here. It was all so stupid. That was one song. But there was another song playing in my head, louder, more annoying, with high tinny notes I was trying hard to ignore. I felt different, in some way, but it was difficult to put into words. I wished life was clearer. I wished there was an instant in time that I could point to, and say ¡°there it is. That was the moment when I fought back. That was the moment when I set things straight, the moment things changed.¡± But when was it? Was it when I fought Berenguer¡¯s illusion, made my vow not to let the world get away with breaking the rules? Was it after Naomi¡¯s party died, when I decided I would burn and burn, that I didn¡¯t need free will, only power? Or was it even more recent that that? Was it when I fought the balding Kalamuzi - Risthindicthi - and proved that the fire was burning in me, letting it burn away my despair? Was it when I killed that worm-drake, when I accepted that I was a sore loser, and that I would fight even when I knew it was ultimately pointless? Or was it none of them? Ultimately, had I changed at all since I was a kid, and Tom had first revealed to me the secret workings of the universe? Hadn¡¯t I been doing the same things ever since that day? Raging against the world, taking advantage of its rules, fighting my hopeless battle? No. It was different, if only because I recognized some of these things more clearly. I felt like an outsider, shifting between the rocks, surrounded by Cadoc, Amaia, and Naomi. And, of course, I was. I was an interloper in their world. I had lied to them countless times about who I was. I wasn¡¯t meant to be there. But it was more than that. They were all special, and I wasn¡¯t. That was the more significant difference, the truer way in which I didn¡¯t belong in their company. The real lie. I had tricked them, but that wasn¡¯t new. It didn¡¯t always last very long, but I¡¯d tricked people with sparks before. They never suspected even the possibility of a non-special person being able to impersonate one of their own - and why would they? It ought to have been impossible. That wasn¡¯t what was bothering me. It was hard to accept, but I had to come to terms with a simple reality - I was alive. I was alive, and I shouldn¡¯t have been. Had I found it? I shivered at the significance of the thought. Had I finally, after all this time, found the key? Was it anger? All along, had that been the one thing I hadn¡¯t been able to copy from Tom? Was Tom angry? I¡¯d never noticed, before. I wouldn¡¯t call him a sore loser - that would involve losing. But I guess I¡¯d never seen him give up at something before, not really. But wasn¡¯t that just because he didn¡¯t have to? I wasn¡¯t sure. But the results spoke for themselves. I was angry, and I was alive. Tom must have been angry. Must be angry, wherever he was. I thought about the people around me. Cadoc, who fought an endless war of vengeance against the death of his home country, and, in many ways, against his parents. Wasn¡¯t that the sort of anger I was thinking of? As for Amaia and Naomi - well, Amaia was nearly impossible to read, but she had said something about understanding not living up to someone¡¯s expectations. Whoever she was talking about, is it possible she burned with a hidden fire, embittered and enraged at that person? And Naomi - well, it was too soon to tell. But although she was always joking around, there were times when her words cut, and maybe this, too, was a sign of her rage. Hadn¡¯t I been angry before this, though? Back on Earth? Maybe. Probably. But I hid it. Not just hid it, but was ashamed of it. Tried to snuff it out. Perhaps I should have been feeding it, heaping fuel on that fire. Maybe being special had two components, actually. Maybe there was the ¡°spark,¡± as I¡¯d thought of it, the free will, the insight, the ability to make choices - but in addition to that, maybe there was the fire. The burning drive that propelled those choices, the flames that gave the choices weight and impact. If there were any more freaks of nature out there, like me, maybe there were even people who had sparks, but no fire. Maybe they had complete free will, the complete understanding of what they ought to do, to accomplish great things, but none of the fire that it took to do it. And I was the opposite, under this new theory. I had no spark - no real insight, no significant free will - but perhaps I had the fire. Tom was a controlled burn. I imagined a plot of land in the woods, and Tom carefully clearing it of trees, cutting them down here, burning away brush there, until he was left with a picturesque plot to lay a homestead on. Then I pictured myself - the unrestrained arsonist, setting the entire forest ablaze. And after it had all burned, couldn¡¯t I still build my house in the ashes? Was this it? A shout brought me back to the world. I was surprised to see we had already left the narrow passage - in fact, we had to have been walking for quite some time, I realized. I couldn¡¯t even see the passage behind me, only a long cavern filled with insects, little hornet-sized creatures that looked like bats, swooping down at manic angles to land on the petals of white flowers. We had just passed through a field of those, growing straight from the hard rock, looking like orchids. Another shout ahead. ¡°Miles, hurry up!¡± someone yelled. Naomi, probably. I couldn¡¯t tell if they were shouts of danger, or what. Ahead of me was a gap in the stone, with another stone wall beyond it, blocking my view - forming something like a hallway. With thoughts of ambush on my mind, I entered. Chapter 66 - Hot Springs I ran out into a large chamber. It was hard to see at first what I was looking at, as the view was obscured by coiling clouds of steam. Before us was a wide, flat cavern, shaped like a semi-circle with the ¡°zenith¡± of the room being where we had come in. Butted up against the far wall, and taking up about half of the space, was a pool of water, longer than a football field. It was fed by a stream, which meandered over an outcropping of rock wedged almost dead center, the stream splitting into two smaller waterfalls, the stone face dividing the water into two halves, like a kidney-shaped swimming pool but more exaggerated. There had to have been some kind of geothermal activity beneath our feet, because a thin steam filled the space, and became thicker as you approached the water. It was humid and warm, and before long I felt my clothes begin stick to my skin. ¡°Water!¡± Naomi shouted. ¡°And warm!¡± She ran to the water¡¯s edge and held her hand over it, testing the heat. Cadoc was wandering around already, seemingly checking the perimeter for other paths, while Amaia made motions to try to stop or warn Naomi, who ignored her and stuck her hand in the water. She didn¡¯t recoil in pain, so I guessed it wasn¡¯t boiling hot or anything. I approached to stand beside Amaia, and Naomi looked up at us from where she had knelt by the pool. One hand was still in the water, the other wrapped around her staff, using it as support. ¡°The temperature is perfect,¡± she said. ¡°You thinking what I¡¯m thinking?¡± ¡°What?¡± I asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know about you,¡± she said. ¡°But I haven¡¯t bathed in¡­you don¡¯t even want to know how long.¡± ¡°I noticed,¡± Amaia responded. Naomi splashed water up at Amaia. ¡°You¡¯re not exactly smelling like flowers yourself, y¡¯know? I vote we take a break.¡± ¡°Naomi,¡± I said, while Amaia shook her head. ¡°We only just left. We can fill up our canteens, but now isn¡¯t the time for a rest stop.¡± ¡°Just left? We¡¯ve been walking for hours.¡± I checked my watch. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly when we had departed, but she had to have been right. Wow. I really spaced out, I thought. ¡°Dangerous,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Could be ambushed.¡± ¡°Oh, lighten up!¡± Naomi said. ¡°Your magic still works while wet, doesn¡¯t it? And my staff is waterproof. We won¡¯t be any less safe than normal. ¡°Besides,¡± she said, pointing her staff at Amaia, ¡°Aren¡¯t you the maniacs wanting to find the Kalamuzi¡¯s home? You care about safety all of a sudden?¡± ¡°I¡¯m with Amaia,¡± I said. ¡°We don¡¯t have the time to spare, not on something so unimportant. It¡¯s a luxury we can¡¯t afford.¡± ¡°Unimportant?¡± Naomi responded. ¡°Luxury? Didn¡¯t you pay attention in demigod school? We¡¯re dealing with Kalamuzi. They¡¯re like big walking diseases. You don¡¯t think we might want to, like, wash up, occasionally? Personally, I¡¯d like to not catch rat¡¯s cough, thank you.¡± I scratched my head. I¡¯d never even thought of that. It had never crossed my mind that diseases existed in that dimension. Although in most ways I was treating it like reality - I thought - in other ways, that world still felt like a fantasy, like I was in a film. I struggled to recall the last fantasy movie I had watched that featured a character getting seriously ill - from something other than a curse, or poison. I had been spending an inordinate amount of time around corpses, rats, and just general filth. And as for bathing¡­ had I taken a single bath the entire time since I had arrived? I couldn¡¯t recall. Maybe once, at the inn in Dross, but I wasn¡¯t sure. I was suddenly aware of just how crazy my personal hygiene had been. There was always something more important to attend to - living another day, for example, or not getting my life repossessed. I had done some personal grooming, in order to keep myself up to a Tom-standard, but in other ways, I was filthier than anyone I¡¯d ever met on Earth. The more I thought about it, the more gross I felt. I thought about how long it had been since I had run out of MRE toilet paper, and the compromises I had had to make on that front. A bath sounded like a great idea, actually. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°You make a fair point,¡± I conceded. ¡°But we ought to take turns, at least. So that someone can stand guard while the others are in the water.¡± Naomi looked offended. ¡°Well, yeah. Obviously. We¡¯re not getting in together. The men are going to stay WAY on the other side of the room, while the girls-¡° She was interrupted by a splash, the sound of something falling into the water. We all turned - I thought it must have been a falling rock or something, and was already rethinking how safe this idea was. It was Cadoc. He had jumped him. He rose to the surface, spit a stream of water from his mouth like a fountain, and then waved, his chest bare. ¡°The water is safe,¡± he said. ¡°No need to fear.¡± And so the men ended up bathing first. Naomi and Amaia retreated to the opposite side of the pool, Naomi grumbling all the while, and Amaia shooting furtive glances back at us. I didn¡¯t undress until they were out of sight. Not that I felt particularly comfortable undressing in front of Cadoc, either. I knew that there were places and cultures, even on Earth, which found it perfectly normal to be naked in front of members of the same sex, but the United States of America was not one of those places, Americans not, generally, one of those cultures. Even if we were, I still would have found it uncomfortable, personally, if for no other reason than that it was exceedingly difficult to make the lower part of your body match someone else¡¯s. That hadn¡¯t stopped me, of course, because I was willing to do whatever it took - and let me tell you, for as much as women complain about getting dick pics all the time, getting a good reference image was much harder than it looked. Couldn¡¯t just walk up to Tom and ask for a photo shoot. And then, the actual process of changing the appearance - I shuddered even thinking about it. I had still been perfecting it when I had entered that new dimension, considering some kind of elective surgery - when I had the money, or could secure the right loan - and so the work was unfinished, a block of marble only half carved. Now that I had the theory that anger was what I had been missing, it almost felt silly, but I had legitimately thought that, perhaps, every single part of my body needed to match Tom¡¯s in order to be successful. The reason it was silly, of course, is that no one ever saw that detail, so it wouldn¡¯t, obviously, have had any effect on how people interacted with me. But I had been trying to prepare for exactly this kind of situation - unexpected nudity. A part of me worried that, if Cadoc saw, he would know that I was an impostor, just from that detail. I hurriedly undressed and stepped in, letting the steam and water restore my privacy. The water felt amazing. I dipped my head under it once, to wash my hair, and I felt like a snake sloughing off a layer of old skin. The warm water soothed my weary muscles. I immediately wanted to take a nap. I hadn¡¯t noticed it before, but the falling water was noisy. Cadoc tried to shout something at me from the other side of the half-pool, and while I could hear it, I couldn¡¯t make out what he was saying. Eventually he drifted over - I was sitting on a little ledge, and he sat on another running perpendicular to that one, probably six feet away or so. ¡°Are you really a demigod?¡± he asked, half yelling before realizing I could hear him fine at this distance. This question again, I thought. I had no real problem with lying, but I only hoped I wasn¡¯t digging myself into a hole. ¡°It¡¯s complicated,¡± I said again. Being vague was a classic strategy. Special people are often mysterious as well, so it also served as camouflage. ¡°You said there is violence in your country, yes? Even without magic, there are wars. Fighting. Struggle.¡± ¡°There is.¡± Cadoc was looking off at the waterfall. ¡°But there are no duels in the heavens, are there?¡± he asked. He sounded almost disappointed. I shook my head. ¡°I can only say that there are no duels where I come from. Not formal duels, anyway.¡± He smiled a bitter smile. ¡°That is a shame, but I suppose I could have guessed at the truth.¡± He lowered his gaze. ¡°I have been a fool.¡± He turned to me and bent his head down in a bow, his nose touching the surface of the water. ¡°Forgive me, friend. I have treated you dishonorably. You knew nothing of our customs here below. Only say the word, and I will end my own life, in compensation.¡± ¡°What?!¡± I shouted. ¡°No! What the hell are you talking about? I forgive you. Whatever, dude, it¡¯s fine.¡± He lifted his head, smiling. ¡°I am happy to hear it. You are a boon companion.¡± He extended his hand. I took it, and we shook. ¡°Don¡¯t just fucking threaten suicide over a disagreement,¡± I said. ¡°It makes you look like a maniac. I¡¯d rather we prove Naomi wrong, occasionally.¡± ¡°It is the way of my people,¡± he said. ¡°When a man reaches a point of cowardice he cannot recover from, the only solution is to take his own life. I was a coward for doubting my friend.¡± I shook my head. Cadoc continues to shock me with how fucking insane he is. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I was being an asshole, too. Let¡¯s just get back to being friends, alright?¡± He nodded. The he motioned with his head to something over my right shoulder. ¡°I believe we have company, Miles.¡± I turned, and a shock of black hair disappeared behind the stone wall. Amaia was slower - I got a solid look before she blushed and disappeared, too. ¡°Like what you see?!¡± I yelled, mocking Naomi in particular. You would think I would be mortified, but honestly, it was hard to stay stressed about much of anything in that water. Besides, the water and steam had to have obscured everything anyway. ¡°I can¡¯t hear you!¡± Naomi yelled back. After that, I simply relaxed into the water, letting the heat unknot my back, letting the steam clear out my sinuses, letting myself relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Amaia and Naomi would fend off anything that tried to attack us - Amaia could disarm them, and Naomi could cut them in half. If anything, I was more worried for when it was Cadoc and I¡¯s turn to guard. I drifted into a thoughtless sleep. I didn¡¯t dream at all. No voices, no Mom, no Tom. Just pure, thoughtless bliss. I awoke violently. ¡°Wake up, Miles!¡± Cadoc yelled, shaking me awake. I blinked, looking around drowsily. ¡°What¡¯s going on,¡± I yawned. ¡°Is it time to switch?¡± ¡°I heard the sound of shouting,¡± Cadoc said. He was already throwing his clothes on, still wet. ¡°They must be in combat even now. Come, quickly!¡± I was honestly quite surprised that Cadoc hadn¡¯t simply run off to join the battle naked. But my mind caught up with the reality, and I grabbed my clothes, dressing as quickly as I could and regretting the soaking wet armor. It was humid enough in that room that I would have sweat through them anyway, but that didn¡¯t make it any more comfortable. I was moving fast, but I wasn¡¯t as worried as Cadoc seemed to be. We were the vulnerable ones, after all. Really it was lucky that we¡¯d been attacked from that direction, and not the other, if we even were attacked. Amaia and Naomi weren¡¯t disarmed and naked. Or so I thought. Chapter 67 - Disarmed and Naked It was very quickly apparent that things were worse than I had imagined. Cadoc and I rushed out, away from our pool, to make for the opposite side. Our view was blocked until we rounded the dividing stone, but Cadoc drew his sword immediately. I followed suit, drawing my drows, though I doubted heavily that I would need it. My movements felt sluggish, and Cadoc looked similarly slowed, as if we were both wading through quicksand - but I assumed that it was only a matter of being awoken suddenly from a deep sleep, mixed with the muggy environment. All I could see at first was a mess of colors - matted blacks and browns, alabaster whites, obscene pinks, and the dark hues of dried blood, all obscured by steam, all little more than splotches glimpsed between blinks. Then the forms - I thought I could make out a tanned foot gone limp, a rusted sword gripped in a bony hand, and finally a long, snarling face. Kalamuzi. There were more than a dozen of them, but I couldn¡¯t know for sure how many - it was hard to get an accurate count as they scrambled in the mist. One of them lay slain on the cavern floor - I saw first its upper body, eyes rolled back in its head, tongue lolled - and then, as the mist rolled by like rushing clouds, I saw the lower body, a few feet away. It had been cut cleanly in half. Two of the monsters still living held a limp human body over their heads, and four more Kalamuzi struggled to hold another, wriggling like a piece of furniture that fought to stay put. That was what felt the most like a sick dream - the bodies they held were familiar, yet different somehow, like a memory stretched out until it begins to wear at the edges of imagination. I blinked rapidly, unbelieving, as if the sleep would clear from my eyes and reveal this all to be the remnants of a lingering fantasy involving Roman men and Sabine women, but the scene did not go away, only developed. Nothing made sense, nor did it make more sense as it went. Not at first. The bodies held overhead - one limp, one thrashing - were naked. The limp one was two-toned, and all the parts I recognized, in horror, were cast in a light bronze - while the rest, only formerly dreamt, were pale, two white moons peeking through the mist over a Kalamuzi¡¯s shoulder. I saw no movement from the body. The limbs swung absently as the pair of Kalamuzi transporting it scampered away from where I stood. But I didn¡¯t see any obvious wounds, either. The other body - the other person, that is, because by now I could no longer deny that these were my companions - was bound, hands and feet, yet still the Kalamuzi barely managed to keep a hold on her bare, mannish figure. Some of the Kalamuzi were armed, and I watched as one of their swords was twisted into an unrecognizable shape, still held in a Kalamuzi¡¯s grip. It was a slow process, slower than I had ever seen it done before, the sword twisting an inch at a time. I then noticed that the ground was littered with warped and broken weapons - but too few. Many of them were still armed. I didn¡¯t know if anyone was still yelling - I could hardly hear above the roar of water. But I didn¡¯t think so. Another detail came into view between coils of steam, and then something like an explanation formed in my mind. There were two piles of clothes and armor stacked up on the water¡¯s edge, beside a carved staff and a plain sword. Amaia and Naomi - it almost felt vulgar thinking their names, associating those memories with this nightmare - they must have decided that they would bathe, rather than wait for us to finish. I could picture the scene - Naomi complaining about how long we were taking, both too embarrassed to peek around the wall again to bug us, and maybe the yell that had awoken Cadoc wasn¡¯t even the first. Maybe they had shouted at us, unable to get our attention with the noise of the waterfalls. Then I could see Naomi suggesting the idea, Amaia refusing, but Naomi insisting, poking at Amaia, suggesting that the only alternative was to go back to the men¡¯s side and wake us up. Ultimately, whatever had happened, and for whatever reason, they had stripped down, and gotten into the water. Then - likely after they had fallen asleep, as well - the Kalamuzi had attacked. But I couldn¡¯t believe that Amaia would fall asleep. She was nothing if not a bodyguard. She would have stayed awake and vigilant, one hand on her sword, whether she was bathing or not. I turned my attention back to her, where she struggled not to be taken, and saw that she seemed to move languidly as well, despite her efforts. It was like she was half asleep. Otherwise, perhaps she would have broken free, or the Kalamuzi would not have been able to tie her hands and feet so easily. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Are the pools cursed? I wondered, thinking of my own drowsiness. I wasn¡¯t even sure if that was a real thing in this world, but it seemed like they must have been. It was the only thing that could explain Amaia¡¯s behavior. I wanted to avert my eyes from the scene, but was transfixed. It was pointless, anyway. All of this recognition happened within the space of a few seconds, seared into my vision. The Kalamuzi, even then, were fleeing. It was evident they meant to take prisoners - or perhaps, I shuddered to think, they merely meant to preserve their food, as we had with the worm-drake. As Cadoc and I came into view, Cadoc shouted after them. They were some ways off, already, and moving fast - the closest were only a few yards away, but the ones with the bodies were quickly retreating. ¡°Stop, fiends!¡± Cadoc yelled. ¡°Stand and fight, you cowards!¡± All of the ratmen turned to face us - even those carrying Amaia and Naomi - and they seemed ready to face Cadoc¡¯s challenge, a frightening hunger in their beady eyes. Some even took a first step towards us. But then a screeching noise echoed in the cavern, and one of the farthest-off Kalamuzi squeaked out some gibberish order. I only guessed that it was an order because, afterwards, about half of the Kalamuzi turned away from us again, and continued their retreat. The others raised their weapons, and approached. I noted, absently, that the Kalamuzi who had given the orders was taller than the others. It was also less hairy, with its fur growing only in patches, while about half of its body was bare skin - at least, what I could see, as the monster was wearing armor, a mix of leather and bone. It reminded me of Risthindicthi, the Kalamuzi I had dueled. Are there different varieties of Kalamuzi? I wondered. These tall, balding ones seem to be smarter, more dangerous. It was another thought I couldn¡¯t help but think, even in those surroundings, even as I followed Cadoc¡¯s lead and rushed towards our enemies - if you could call our dull steps ¡°rushing.¡± I could feel my limbs starting to regain their dexterity, but slowly. If the one barking orders was a higher breed of Kalamuzi, than the ones left to fight us were a lower one, the runts. They were only slightly shorter than the average ratman, but their hair grew wild, and all of the features that differentiated a ratman from simply a large rat were dulled here. They looked somehow more animalistic, their teeth, barred at us, sharper, their eyes like those of dead fish. The standard Kalamuzi we had seen had glimpses of intelligence, enough that it seemed right that I kept thinking of them as ¡°ratmen,¡± internally - these had none of that. These were giant rats - perhaps less intelligent even than normal rats - and they just happened to walk on their hind legs, and be shaped vaguely in the shape of men. They were armed, rusted bits of metal held tightly in both hands, but it seemed as if they hardly knew how to hold them. I thought at first that the leader had ordered these ones to stay behind and distract us, but looking at them then, with their mindless hunger, I wondered if no such order had happened, and they had simply ignored the general retreat. They were spread out with no real pattern, approaching slowly. There were six of them. They growled at us, but held off with a surprising temperance. They made as if to encircle us, like wolves. The growl of one was interrupted almost immediately. Cadoc was not waiting to be surrounded. A square board of wood appeared in front of one Kalamuzi¡¯s face. It ran into it, hitting its long rat nose against it, squeaking. Before it knew what had happened, Cadoc had dashed forward, and driven his sword through its gut. ¡°Miles!¡± he yelled, drawing his sword back out, dirty blood splattering the ground before the ratman collapsed. ¡°To me!¡± I understood immediately that he meant for us to fight back-to-back. But it was too late. The Kalamuzi charged, and whether it was intelligence, luck, or primal instinct, they cut us off from each other. Suddenly there were three closing in on me, and two on Cadoc. My three were variously armed - none wore more than a scrap of armor, an errant glove or boot. One held a comically small knife, like something you¡¯d use to butter bread. Another held a long spear, clumsily, while the third held a sword which had seen better days. I stuffed my hand in my left pocket, holding the antisword in my right. ¡°The knife one looks the weakest,¡± I muttered to myself. Adrenaline was pumping - a familiar feeling by now, although I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d ever felt it before coming to that dimension. ¡°Time for some old tricks.¡± I threw out a handful of nails, aiming for the ratman with the knife. Predictably, this surprised the monster - had it been smarter, it would have expected something when I stuck my hand in my pocket. I melted them, then ignited them - I had practiced the timing before, and I was getting pretty consistent. They melted enough to stick, then burst into flames, causing the maximum amount of discomfort and pain - though, of course, still minimal damage. The drows, on the other hand, did more than enough damage. It felt like I¡¯d never swung the weapon so effectively before. With one practiced motion - practiced even back on Earth - I brought the full weight of it down on the Kalamuzi¡¯s forehead. I felt as the brittle skull cracked and broke, felt as the drows smashed through, felt as specks of blood - or perhaps brain - splattered against my cheek. The Kalamuzi was dropped in an instant, head like a deflated balloon. I turned to the others, but they had backed away, and had stopped their circling. Instead, they stood side-by-side. The one with the spear held it before it, and it would be dangerous to approach. And they were still between Cadoc and I. That attack had taken more out of me than it should have - I was nearly exhausted already. A lingering effect of the pool, I was now certain. It was an impasse. Cadoc was fighting against his own enemies, and was being pressed on from multiple directions. He would block with his sword on one side, then turn quickly to block from the other, barely able to move in time. Finally, the two rats attacked at the exact same moment. He brought up his sword in one hand, while holding out his other, summoning a board to block the attack. He was too slow. The board appeared too late, batted aside by the Kalamuzi¡¯s curved blade - it may have been a farmer¡¯s hand sickle. It sliced into Cadoc¡¯s arm, painting a line of red. He jumped away, but the damage was done. It was impossible to tell how deep it had cut, but blood ran down his arm and dripped unto the uncaring stone. He pressed against the wound with his sword hand. And meanwhile, the other Kalamuzi, far off, were nearly out of the room. Even if we won, every second we took made it less likely we¡¯d ever catch up with Amaia and Naomi. We were out of time. Chapter 68 - The Staff Cadoc was injured, but he had created some distance with the Kalamuzi again, and they seemed hesitant to close it. Perhaps they were catching their breaths before another attack. Either way, the momentum was turning in their favor. Blood was still dripping from the gash in Cadoc¡¯s arm, but he kept a grip on his sword in the other hand. Meanwhile, I was still blocked, the two Kalamuzi facing me content to play defensive, weapons leveled. As we fought, Cadoc and I had only gotten more separated. Fine, I thought. Have it your way. Time to cheat. I pulled out my slingshot from where it hung by my side, loaded a steel ball, and pulled back the bands, taking aim. ¡°Hey Cadoc,¡± I yelled over the sound of the waterfalls. ¡°This doesn¡¯t count as a duel, does it?¡± Cadoc turned to me, and, realizing what I meant, smiled. ¡°No, friend,¡± he said. ¡°Not a duel.¡± ¡°Perfect,¡± I said, and I let the shot fly. The steel ball rocketed towards one of Cadoc¡¯s opponents, holding an unimpressive sword. It worked even better than I had planned. I had aimed for the forehead, hoping to stun the monster, but I had gotten the height wrong. Instead, the steel ball embedded itself in the ratman¡¯s neck, leaving a hole like a smoker who has to breathe through a stoma. And soon, the Kalamuzi was smoking, too, as the fire ignited inside its throat. It grasped at the wound, actually trying to dig the ball out of its neck, unable to breath. Cadoc ended its misery, striking it down, sword held in one hand. Meanwhile, I had let off another shot, burning a hole in the arm of the other Kalamuzi. It dropped its sickle, crying out in pain. Of course, my opponents weren¡¯t content to watch me pick off their allies. They advanced, and I was only just barely able to drop the slingshot and raise my drows again before a wild slash from the sword-wielding Kalamuzi nearly sliced my arm off. I blocked it, backing away before the spear-rat came to follow up. Cadoc didn¡¯t give his enemy time to recover. He unleashed a flurry of strikes, beating back the Kalamuzi, who tried to dodge but was quickly covered in shallow cuts all along its body. Then, a stick appeared underneath the ratman, summoned by Cadoc, and it tripped, falling onto its back. Cadoc leapt on it, driving his sword through its torso. The Kalamuzi sputtered, and went limp. Suddenly another screeching sound echoed through the subterranean space. We all looked - man and Kalamuzi alike. The kidnapping party was leaving. They had reached the far wall of that large cavern, and were filing out. I caught one last glimpse of Amaia, struggling and nude, as they carried her off. Cadoc looked to me, and I saw the indecision written on his face. Who knew where the cavern went, next? Would we ever catch up to them? Every second that passed made it less likely. We were now 2-on-2, but how long would it take to finish the Kalamuzi off, even on equal footing? If it took even a minute or two, would we make it in time? And how far would the Kalamuzi get before they decided they were hungry, started tearing off bits of flesh? This world is fucked, I thought. Just as fucked as the last one. Fucked-up people, fucked-up monsters, fucked-up situations. But I¡¯m not letting this world take away the closest thing to friends I have. I¡¯ll kill every last Kalamuzi, if I have to. Every. Last. One. ¡°Go!¡± I said to Cadoc, as if possessed, spit flying. ¡°I can finish up here. Don¡¯t let them get away!¡± Cadoc nodded, and ran. The two remaining Kalamuzi started as if to follow him, but I couldn¡¯t let that happen. ¡°Hey!¡± I yelled at them. ¡°I¡¯m still right here, you rats! You scared? Come and get some!¡± Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. They turned, but not quickly enough. I had dashed at them, and I brought my mace down on the sword-rat¡¯s shoulder. I felt something crack. Surprisingly, the ratman adapted. While screaming in pain, it quickly grabbed the sword before it fell from the now-limp arm, and swung at me. The arc was frantic and wild, but I was forced back. The Kalamuzi with the spear turned back to rejoin the fight. But its companion didn¡¯t wait. It attacked in a frenzy, slash after slash, and I blocked and blocked. ¡°Come on, you fucking idiot!¡± I yelled to myself. More attacks, more worthless blocks. ¡°What the hell are you good for if you can¡¯t do this, huh!¡± The blocking continued for longer than I could estimate accurately, the movements a blur. Then it happened. The Kalamuzi came down with a savage swing, and I blocked it perfectly. The rusted blade shattered, the Kalamuzi¡¯s eyes widening in horror. Then, in an instant, the sharp end of the drows was piercing where I hoped its heart was, and it was dead. No time to celebrate. Cadoc was already far off, running like a madman towards the exit. The rat with the spear advanced, no anger on its visage, only the same dull hunger. It had me on the back foot almost immediately. I didn¡¯t see any way to break his weapon with mine, as there wasn¡¯t really a good way to block in the first place. All I could do was dodge - if the ratman had been better trained, more dexterous with the spear, I¡¯d have been dead in seconds, unable to even close the distance without impaling myself. As it was, I was being driven back, closer and closer to the water¡¯s edge, the pile of the women¡¯s clothes sitting nearby. I saw no opening, had no idea what I could do, besides the old faithful. I stuck my hand in my pocket- And tripped. That stupid fucking staff, the one that Naomi wouldn¡¯t ever let out of her sight - I had tripped over it, falling backwards. My drows fell from my hand. I cursed Naomi, as if it was her fault I was now about to die. Perhaps it was, really. I was on the very edge of the water now. If I had fallen in, either the drowsiness would have overtaken me again, and the Kalamuzi would have made short work of me, or I would have fallen fast asleep, awakening to find myself half devoured. So I was lucky not to have fallen a few feet further back, in that regard. But I didn¡¯t feel lucky. The ratman advanced at its leisure, long mouth twisted into a sort of manic smile, knowing that it had won. One thrust of the spear, and I was lunch. It attacked, and I defended with the only thing at hand. I raised Naomi¡¯s staff in my right hand, and just managed to divert the thrust away. It had likely only worked because the Kalamuzi had been overconfident, thinking me unarmed. It wouldn¡¯t work again. So I took my opportunity. I stuck my left hand back into my pocket, grabbed a handful of nails, and threw them at the ratman. It only takes a second to melt the nails before igniting them, but I didn¡¯t have a second. I grasped internally for those invisible strings connecting my mana pool to the nails - like little dry riverbeds, waiting to flow with mana. I had only a fraction of a second to notice, absently, that my right hand, clutching the staff, felt strange, like it was slightly numb. I nearly ignored it, but found myself unable to. The mana didn¡¯t want to flow through the strings, like normal. The strings seemed to all converge, flowing through my right arm and into the staff, before connecting to the individual nails. I flooded the paths with mana, rushing my power through the staff and into the nails, igniting them. They erupted in a burst of light, and I felt the flames lick at my face, uncomfortably warm. But they were more than uncomfortable for my enemy. The nails, when they ignited, created blazing fireballs, if only for a moment. This mass of fire burned away at the Kalamuzi¡¯s skin, and it screamed as the flesh melted off of its skull. The fire was gone in a second, but so was the Kalamuzi¡¯s face. I sat there a moment, stunned, but the fight wasn¡¯t over. I rose, driving my shoulder into the Kalamuzi¡¯s midsection, then grappled with it. I got a firm grip, and flipped the Kalamuzi runt over - mace training was traditionally used by wrestlers, if you didn¡¯t know, because it practices the same motions made when flipping someone. I was no wrestler, but I¡¯d been practicing that move for a long time. The Kalamuzi put up nothing but the most desperate resistance, but it was too weak, or weakened. Soon it was in the water, and almost immediately its muscles began to slacken, its fight leaving it. I shifted and wrestled with the Kalamuzi until its head was below the water, facing down. A rush of steam rose up as the melted face hit the surface, even though the water was already warm. I was above the ratman - mostly dry, except for my feet, and splashes of water that had hit other places. I hoped it wasn¡¯t enough to stop me. It will not be enough to stop me. I pressed the Kalamuzi¡¯s face into the water, and though it struggled, its struggle lessened quickly. Soon, it was still, but I waited. It wasn¡¯t dead. It had only been forced to take a gulp or two of the water, and had fallen asleep. I waited until it drowned, and then waited a little longer, to be safe. Then I tossed it into the water - let that be a warning to the next adventurers to find the place. They¡¯ll be less likely to bathe in a pool with a dead body in it. I stood and collected my things, in a daze - my drows, my slingshot, my bullets - as quickly as I could, adrenaline still pumping, trying not to think too hard about how far away my teammates were getting. I wouldn¡¯t do them any good unarmed. Then I picked up the staff again, turning it over in my hands. ¡°No wonder Naomi never lets go of this thing,¡± I said aloud. ¡°It seems like it enhances the magic of the person holding it. I wonder how weak Naomi really is, without it.¡± A thought hit me. ¡°It didn¡¯t make me pass out, though. So why did she pass out? Does she have some sort of condition, or did I just not use all my mana? Maybe if I had used more, flooded the staff with everything I had, I would have-¡° Suddenly my knees buckled beneath me, and I collapsed to the ground. The world hated me, so the timing of it all only made sense. I wasn¡¯t even all that surprised, in a way. It felt like I had strained every muscle in my body, at once. Like when you work out, and get DOMS - Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness - except it was only delayed by a minute, and it wasn¡¯t just your arms that hurt, but everything. I laughed dryly, and the laugh hurt. ¡°That¡¯s¡­it?¡± I said, struggling to even get the words out. ¡°Try¡­¡± I used the staff to wrench myself up. ¡°Harder.¡± But I could hardly move. I thought that my assumption about not using all my mana must have been correct, and so my saving grace had probably been that I hadn¡¯t known what I was doing. If I had used the staff more efficiently, I¡¯d be completely drained. For once, being shitty at something may have helped me out. Then that question feeling hit me. I accepted without hesitation, and felt a small amount of mana return to me, and I felt slightly better. Only slightly. Barely noticeable, really, but it was something. I stumbled forward, using the staff like a cane, bent over like a crippled old man. Every step was agony, and it was a struggle even to keep my eyes open. Every muscle screamed at me for rest. ¡°Shut¡­up¡­muscles¡­¡± I said to myself. ¡°Gotta get¡­.going¡­¡± I was moving at a snail¡¯s pace, but I was moving. I fought for every step, fueled by rage, an overwhelming desire to maim, kill, drown, burn and slaughter every last one of the kidnappers. And one singular fear. ¡°Can¡¯t¡­be¡­left¡­behind¡­¡± Chapter 69 - The Abyss The walk was excruciating, both physically and mentally. Mentally because I knew I was going much too slow. They would be gone by the time I arrived, I was sure of it. But I had to try. My best chance was that Cadoc would have caught up to the Kalamuzi, and started fighting. Maybe he¡¯d even be able to free Amaia - that might increase our chances drastically. If he was fighting them, and they were unable to keep running away, then I might just be able to catch up. Not that I would have been much good in that state, but what else could I do? Take a nap while my friends fight for their lives? There¡¯s that word again, I thought. Friends. Is that what they are? I wasn¡¯t sure if I was really capable of having friends. Every time I¡¯d tried in the past, I¡¯d been betrayed. Hell, even with Cadoc and Amaia, I¡¯d been betrayed. So then why was there that feeling in my chest, like my heart was going to burst if I didn¡¯t find them? I didn¡¯t want to think about it. I just wanted to keep walking. If it wasn¡¯t for the staff, I wouldn¡¯t have made it further than a step or two. Clutching at it with both hands, I was just able to drag myself forward. I couldn¡¯t say how long it took, but eventually I reached the other side of the cavern. The steam was thinner there, and the sound of the waterfalls faded. There was the mouth of some tunnel, like the one we had entered from. I pressed on, grunting under the strain. The tunnel forked in multiple spots, branching off towards who knows where. I would have been surely lost except for the trail of blood leading my way. Cadoc¡¯s arm must still have been bleeding, which meant he hadn¡¯t even bothered to tear off a bandage from his clothes. I wasn¡¯t at all surprised by that. I almost smiled at the idea. It wasn¡¯t a massive amount of blood - he probably would have passed out, if it was - just a few drops, occasionally. A few times I didn¡¯t see the blood, at first, and it took some searching to find the right way again. The path seemed to go on forever, and I absently wondered whether I had ever actually awoken from the pool-induced slumber, whether I really was just dreaming all of this. But the pain in my muscles kept me from giving the thought much credence. Eventually the blood stopped. Either Cadoc had finally had enough, and bandaged the wound, or - or what, I didn¡¯t know. No matter how much I searched, I found no blood on the stone floor. Almost falling to despair, I looked up, only to notice a smear of blood on the wall of one of the paths. Was it on purpose? Impossible to say. Nothing to do but follow it. What kept me going were the fantasies of dead Kalamuzi. The tunnel did end, finally - I had been considering purgatory as another possibility, just before. Maybe even Hell. The space opened before me, the path ending in a stone outcropping over a massive pit. The mouth of it yawned wide, pointed pillars of stone growing on the sides of the round chasm like the teeth of a ravenous behemoth. The pit was wider than any room I¡¯d found in the dungeon thus far, and for some reason, reminded me of the coliseum in Rome. Perhaps it was the strange indentations on the walls, above the mouth, before the ¡°teeth¡± started, almost like the outlines of arched windows. I¡¯d never actually been to Rome, but of course I¡¯d seen pictures. This hole was at least as wide as the coliseum was. The outcropping only stuck a few yards out, not much further than the teeth below. I struggled up to the edge, dark thoughts already nibbling at the corners of my mind. There, on the very precipice, was another smear of blood. I leaned forward, peering into the pit. Dread dulled my rage. It was an abyss. The ambient light of those underground chambers had become so normal to me that I had stopped even noticing them - glancing above me, I saw that there were again more of those bioluminescent mushrooms, giving off their ghostly blue light - though I couldn¡¯t see a ceiling. I thought I could almost make out more outcroppings above, faintly outlined in the mushroom-light. But there were too far off to say for sure. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. It was a sort of relief to look away, but the darkness called to me. Looking down again, the contrast was stark. Absolute darkness. I felt a compulsion to lean further forward, to gaze into the blackness, and I had to stoke the flames of my anger in order to keep control, to keep myself from tumbling in. I pulled myself away, collapsing onto the rock. But the longer I sat, the more those flames weakened and dimmed. Where did they go? I thought to myself. They couldn¡¯t possible have gone down, could they? I looked at the spikes around the perimeter. They would never do for hand- or footholds. The surfaces of them were smooth, and the walls were not much better. Besides, that enormous depth¡­it was hard to imagine even the Kalamuzi runts entering such a chasm without being frightened off. Did Cadoc lose them? I wondered, frantically running through the possible scenarios. Did he double back after this, and try another path? Did he drive them here, and fight, and in the violence and confusion, they stumbled, humans and Kalamuzi both falling to their deaths? No. Couldn¡¯t be. But what happened? Did he have the ring? I could almost imagine a way down with that, but I checked one of my pockets, and sure enough, I still had it. I began muttering to myself, head in my hands. ¡°What if that wasn¡¯t even Cadoc¡¯s blood? Was it fresh? It was, right? Had to have been. But the smeared blood, maybe that was old, from someone else. Is that possible?¡° The room seemed like it was spinning. I dug my fingers into my hair, trying to hold on. ¡°Maybe I missed more drops of blood. If I missed them, went the wrong way, I should turn back- but what if I didn¡¯t? What if they did go this way, and there really is some way down? Are they in that pit somewhere? If I go back, am I leaving them? If I go down, am I making a mistake? How could I even get down?¡± I looked at the pit again, but quickly had to turn away. It was unsettling to look at, even for a moment. ¡°Where would I go, even if I turned back? There were dozens of paths. Where did I mess up? At the first one? The last one? Would I even make it in time, anyway? Am I too late? What if they¡¯re dead?¡± I could feel my pulse quickening, like my veins were about to burst. My breaths were shallow. I knew I should calm down, but I didn¡¯t have it in me. ¡°What if this platform I¡¯m on used to be bigger, and all of them were on the edge of it, and the rock broke away and fell, and they¡¯re all lying in a broken pile of corpses and rubble at the bottom. How would I even know? I could search this dungeon for years, and never, ever find them. Except I would die long before that. I would starve. I can¡¯t hunt a worm-drake on my own. Or the Kalamuzi would find me. Or maybe that guy Nolan would. I¡¯m fucked. This is fucked. I don¡¯t know what to do. What am I supposed to do?!¡± I cried out, and the sound echoed in the open space. Then my words were flung back at me like accusations. ¡°Supposed to do? Supposed to do? Supposed to do?¡± I tried to heap fuel on the fire again, tried to reinvigorate the anger inside me. I thought of the Kalamuzi dragging off my friends, thought of Cadoc, bleeding, chasing after. But that only made me sink deeper. There was anger there, but it was weak. Ms. Hayes, my old therapist, used to tell me I was ¡°emotionally unstable.¡± That thought came to me occasionally, since coming to the new dimension - I felt like I had broken down crying more in the past couple months than I had in most of my life before that. Despite that, I always thought, at the time, that it was rather rude to say something like that to a patient - especially one who behaved perfectly calmly in all of our sessions. ¡°You¡¯re bottling up something, Miles,¡± she had said, relaxing into her chair enough that she looked like the patient - while I, rigid and straight, looked more like the therapist. ¡°It¡¯s obvious. You aren¡¯t opening up.¡± ¡°Well I¡¯m all opened now!¡± I screamed. It felt like the room was closing in around me, like my throat was closing in, too, and I couldn¡¯t breath except in gasps. But I managed to yell. ¡°Is this what you wanted!¡± I yelled, blubbering. ¡°Did I do it? Did I pass the test?¡± I was growing faint, but I couldn¡¯t stop. ¡°Did I make you proud, huh? Is this what you always wanted? To see me crying like a little kid? You broke Dad, and now you broke me. Congratulations!¡± I realized I wasn¡¯t thinking about Ms. Hayes anymore. The echoes mocked me. ¡°Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations¡­¡± I was spent. It was like flipping a switch; one moment, I was raging against the world. The next moment, I had passed out. - I awoke to someone strangling me. I tried to gasp, but hardly any air came. I flailed, my eyes rocketing open, and saw what was happening. It was Nolan. ¡°I finally found you,¡± he said, a sadistic grin on his face. Both his hands were tight around my throat, and he lifted me to my feet. His thumbs dug into the skin beneath my jaw. His eyes burned into mine. ¡°Are you stupid?¡± he asked. I couldn¡¯t answer, of course, but he waited, watching me squirm. I saw that, behind him, some distance off, two identical women stood, bows drawn. His teammates. They looked uncomfortable, as if they disapproved of the situation, but clearly weren¡¯t about to stop it. ¡°I said,¡± Nolan continued. ¡°Are you stupid? Answer me, knave.¡± I managed to squeak out a pitiful ¡°yes.¡± He laughed, and released his grip slightly. Only slightly. ¡°A shockingly honest answer. Next question. Answer well, and I¡¯ll make it quick. Not painless, mind you. You haven¡¯t earned painless. But quick. ¡°Where is my sword?¡± I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. ¡°Fine,¡± he said, and he loosened his grip entirely. I let the air flood in with desperate breaths. I wanted to dash at him, but of course, there was no point. I was cornered - behind me was the abyss. And if I tried to charge, I¡¯d be knocked off, or simply shot. ¡°I don¡¯t have it,¡± I said, rubbing the sore spots on my neck. I saw that he was carrying a sword, but it was a plain, simple one. Not exactly an equal replacement. ¡°Well then where is it?¡± he said, putting his hands on my shoulders, clearly threatening more strangulation. ¡°I sent it to another world,¡± I said, honestly. Then something struck me. ¡°Is Leah OK?¡± Nolan sneered at me. ¡°You truly are stupid,¡± Nolan said. ¡°I almost feel sorry for you. Almost. ¡°Do not joke with me,¡± he continued. ¡°Where is my sword?¡± ¡°I really don¡¯t have it,¡± I said. ¡°Ah,¡± he said, as if realizing something. ¡°This old trick. ¡®You can¡¯t kill me, or else you¡¯ll never find it.¡¯ You are a fool. Tell me quickly, or else I will simply torture it out of you, you simpleton. Do you wish to be struck by lightning endlessly, arcs of electricity crisscrossing every inch of your flesh? Tell me where my sword is before I burn you.¡± ¡°I am not trying to trick you,¡± I croaked, throat sore. Maybe I was being so direct because it all felt like a bad dream - like most things had in that dimension. Or maybe I had just resigned myself to death. ¡°I don¡¯t have the sword, and I couldn¡¯t give it to you, even if I wanted to.¡± ¡°We will see about that, fool.¡± Nolan tightened his grip on my shoulder, and reached for his sword with the other hand. ¡°You have chosen a slow and painful death.¡± I didn¡¯t even care. Kill me, torture me, what difference did it make? Then I noticed something about the sword he was holding, something that hadn''t hit me before. It was Amaia¡¯s sword. Chapter 70 - Nolan ¡°Where did you get that sword?¡± I asked, and suddenly I was sweating, too hot in the cold pit. The sight had awakened something strange in me. I was being held by the loose cloth collar of my leather armor, held up onto my toes and nearly off the edge of the cliffside. Nolan must have been quite strong to lift me like that. He had already drawn the blade in his other hand, and was bringing it up to my chest. He stopped, the question seeming to take him aback, and he looked at me like I was an idiot, like I¡¯d just asked him what two plus two was. ¡°This?¡± He looked at it with all the care of a kitchen utensil. ¡°I found it. What is it to you?¡± ¡°You found it,¡± I repeated, grimacing as the words soured on my tongue, clenching my fists. ¡°You found it.¡± ¡°Is it yours?¡± he asked. He laughed. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be fitting. I¡¯ll carve my name into your flesh with your own blade. And after you stole my blade, no less. The heavens love a joke.¡± ¡°You found it,¡± I said again. My blood was pumping too fast, and it seemed the blood was staining my vision. I glared at him in a mist of red. ¡°And you took it. Fucker. Piece of shit.¡± ¡°Are you going to cry about it?¡± Nolan asked. ¡°That sword belongs to my friend,¡± I said. ¡°You stole it. Give it to me.¡± There was no humor in him as he laughed. ¡°Are you joking? Did you forget that you stole my blade? That you stained my honor, stained my¡­stained Leah¡¯s honor? Do you think I care whose sword this is?¡± ¡°Now you have stained my honor as well,¡± I said, taking on a voice that wasn¡¯t my own. I had an idea. ¡°We¡¯ll see how far that gets you,¡± Nolan said, and he pointed the sword at me again. ¡°Prepare yourself.¡± The tip of the blade lit up, then a wave ran down the length, blue bands of lightning running across it in erratic patterns. Nolan brought it closer to me, and I could feel my hair begin to stand on end. I refused to look away from his gaze. ¡°I challenge you to a duel.¡± Nolan blinked. ¡°What did you say?¡± ¡°We have both suffered dishonor.¡± I said, doing my best impression of Cadoc. ¡°I challenge you to a duel. Will you refuse?¡± Nolan bit his lip. ¡°Why would I duel you? What good does it do me?¡± ¡°Then you refuse,¡± I said. ¡°Coward.¡± Rage overtook his face, and Nolan thrust the sword at me with an exaggerated motion. I didn¡¯t flinch. It was just an outburst. He wouldn¡¯t do anything. Besides, my rage was greater. He stopped himself at the last second, the blade once again inches from me. There it stopped. He sneered again. ¡°Fine.¡± He released me, and I nearly fell over - if I had, I would surely have fallen from the edge, ending all of my posturing. But I didn¡¯t. I kept my footing. Nolan took three paces back - I was still crowded into the corner. I straightened myself and pointed at Nolan. ¡°One-on-one,¡± I said. ¡°Your archers will agree not to kill me if I win.¡± ¡°Why should I-¡° ¡°Fine!¡± one of the twins yelled. ¡°We agree!¡± The other joined in. Nolan said something under his breath, but I didn¡¯t catch it. I was happy to see that his friends were not so loyal - I had guessed from the looks on their faces that they might agree to something like this. A gamble, but it was all I had. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Besides, Cadoc had made it extremely clear how seriously people took duels in that dimension. ¡°Let me collect my weapons,¡± I said, and I knelt to pick up the staff from where it had been lying on the ground, after I had collapsed. My drows still hung from my belt, as did my slingshot. I did all of this automatically, looking on the scene like a fly on the wall. I could see myself move, talk, all of it, like it was someone else. I was somewhere else, screaming to be let back in, but at the same time it was me, and I was holding back my anger, assuring myself that I would have my time, that I only needed to wait. ¡°To the death,¡± Nolan said, and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. ¡°Jana will count us off. No ranged weapons or magic. No other conditions are necessary.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± I thought he might ask for no ranged attacks. After all, he didn¡¯t know I was nothing but a body-mage, and he could see the slingshot hanging from my belt. Not that I¡¯d be able to use it from three feet away before being stabbed. We took our stances. I had the obvious disadvantage, being the one likely to fall to my death, but I hardly even noticed that, consciously. I didn¡¯t care. I had been ready to die only moments before. Now, I had something I needed to do, first. I stuck my right hand into my pocket - I kept both pockets full, naturally, but I chose the right one this time for a reason. My left hand held the staff - tall, but surprisingly light, such that I could wield it one-handed. I crouched low, appearing ready to charge. Part of me was. Nolan stood, sword in both hands, arms high. The blade ran parallel to his forehead, pointed at me in a slightly downward angle. His legs were slightly bent, and he kept his weight on his back foot. ¡°Three,¡± one of the twins shouted from behind Nolan. Nolan tightened his grip. ¡°Two!¡± I shifted my weight, right hand carefully placed in my pocket. I cursed myself for having nearly given up, for letting the raging fire burn low in my heart. When I had noticed the sword, I realized what the fire really was, all at once, and why I couldn¡¯t stoke it, before. It was anger, but not a general anger. It was directed. It was hatred. My hatred had been sealed away long before, but the seal was weak, leaking at the edges, and it wanted out. ¡°One!¡± I burst forward, slipping the ring on my finger at the same moment. I¡¯d be about an inch taller, but I wasn¡¯t sure if Nolan would notice - and even if he did, I doubted he would know what that implied. Ring on, I drew the drows, raised it over my head, and swung down with it in one fluid motion. Nolan was a better swordsman than me. He easily turned my attack away, redirecting it. Suddenly I was stumbling off to the side of him, and a bolt of lightning had snaked up from Amaia¡¯s weapon and onto mine, running up to the grip, a shock shooting through me in an instant. The weapon hilt was not well insulated. It was like when I was a kid and stuck a fork in an outlet. I locked up, and couldn¡¯t let go. Then Nolan kicked me, and I was sent off the cliff. Like that, it was over. Or would have been over. I tumbled and rolled over nothing, coming to a stop some few feet away from him, laying as if on an invisible platform. When the feeling returned to my limbs, I stood. ¡°So that was your trick,¡± Nolan said. ¡°A ring. And here I thought you might be a powerful mage. What next, fool?¡± I fingered the ring where it wrapped around one digit. It could probably get me down safely, I had realized. The little bit of experimentation we had done suggested that. In theory, it should stop me about an inch above the ground - however far down that was. In practice, it might not, so it was extremely dangerous. But so was staying there with Nolan, of course. I pointed at him. ¡°Fuck you.¡± He laughed. ¡°Is this your plan? Insult me to death? You¡¯ll have to come back over here eventually,¡± he said. ¡°Then what?¡± ¡°Fuck all of you,¡± I yelled. ¡°Fuck you, Nolan. Fuck you, Ms. Hayes.¡± Nolan arched an eyebrow, opened his mouth, but I kept shouting. ¡°Fuck you, Ryan. Fuck you, Tom. ¡°Fucking Tom!¡± I yelled, hoping he would appear again, that illusion, just so I could scream at his likeness. ¡°I wish I¡¯d never met you. I could have lived my life like a normal person, a normal, brainless NPC, perfectly fucking happy, oblivious, free.¡± The fire was growing hotter. I clenched my teeth. ¡°That¡¯s what it is, Tom. That¡¯s what¡¯s been keeping me going this whole time. Not wanting to save you. Not hope. Not a dream of the future. Not anger at the world, the monsters, or fear of homelessness, not because I wanted to get home, not any of it.¡± And he was there. It was surely just a stress-induced hallucination, but I saw him. Tom, standing in front of Nolan, staring at me. The look on his face was unreadable, even to me. I strapped the staff to my back - the same spot I had held the mace, before. I grabbed a handful of nails with my other hand, and began sprinkling them over the steel rod of the drows, melting them and rotating the handle, coating the weapon. Nolan laughed harder than ever. And so did Tom. ¡°Are those nails?!¡± They both said, or didn¡¯t. ¡°You¡¯re a body-mage? Unbelievable. And a babbling imbecile, too. ¡°Do you think that coating your weapon in nails will insulate you? Do you really think that will save you? You moron. How are you even still alive?¡± ¡°I¡¯m alive because I fucking hate you, Tom!¡± I said, pointing my newly-coated drows. ¡°Because you did this to me! All of it! My entire life has been nothing but pain and suffering because of you, Tom!¡± I wiped away hot tears, because I had to keep looking at him. ¡°And you knew it. You knew it this entire time.¡± I swatted the sword in quick, violent gestures. ¡°You fucked me, Tom, and I¡¯m only still alive because I want to beat the shit out of you.¡± I took out the staff again, felt that strange numbness again where I touched it. Staff in the left hand, drows in the right, I breathed deeply. Not to calm myself, but to give the fire more oxygen. ¡°Then come!¡± the two yelled, gesturing, a double image. ¡°You challenged me, didn¡¯t you? Enough talking. Fight me!¡± ¡°Gladly.¡± I charged, and like all of my life, the move was an imitation. A carefully chosen copy. I held the drows high, threatening another overhead swing. I could see the smile grow over Tom¡¯s face - that same shit-eating grin that had haunted me ever since I had met him. He knew he would easily turn me aside again. And he was right. I ran at him, feet falling fast over empty air. I swung down, and his sword caught mine, predictably. But I had already let go. A moment of shock appeared on Tom¡¯s face, Nolan¡¯s face - and I¡¯d never seen Tom shocked before. And scared. He likely would have reacted in time anyway - he was a skilled swordsman, after all. But I ignited the nails coating the sword, as it was still in front of his face, trying to feed the staff as little magic as possible. Still it burst into reckless flames - it singed both of our eyebrows, but didn¡¯t melt our flesh - and his surprise only deepened. By then, my arms were wrapped around his torso. My momentum carried us off the edge. Of course, that only meant that I rolled onto invisible ground. Sword sacrificed to the pit, Tom clung to me desperately, like I had always clung to him. He clung to me like I was the cliff. ¡°I always thought we would die together, Tom,¡± I said. Nolan was shouting something at me, but I wasn¡¯t talking to him anymore. ¡°Fuck you, Tom. I hate you.¡± I slipped off the ring. We all tumbled down. Chapter 71 - Falling It¡¯s a good thing that modern technology hadn¡¯t mastered mind-reading, yet. If it had, Dimen-X surely would have outfitted my transmitter with that capability, and I¡¯d have a hard time explaining my thoughts, at that moment. Not that they seemed very put off by anything I did or said in the past. After RENA stopped recommending therapy, she mostly left my mental state alone. Maybe Dimen-X wanted a crazy person. Maybe they thought they could use that. There¡¯s a thought. I could see why Naomi was annoyed when she had had to use her staff. I had done my best to use the tiniest bit of mana - after all, I didn¡¯t want to burn my own face off - and even so, I was exhausted. Perhaps it was less exhaustion than before, but it was hard to tell. I was falling, rows and rows of stone spikes flitting past as I descended. The walls seemed to grow farther apart, until finally I couldn¡¯t see the walls at all, even before everything else disappeared. It must have been a long fall, since I had time to think. The abyss was still nothing but inky blackness below me, and soon I was embraced by it, unable even to see Tom beside me. I slipped the ring back on my finger in the dark - which seemed to have no immediate effect - and hoped that it would stop me before I hit the ground, and fell into a daydream. It was not my life flashing before my eyes, luckily. I didn¡¯t want to relive that. I wished I could erase it, forget it. I would just be another NPC, then, and that would both be a relief and a tragedy. But I would never know it was a tragedy. So then is it, really? Instead, it was a version of a recurring dream I sometimes had. Not the one with the woman and the field and the house in the country - but it occasionally featured the same woman. In this dream - daydream, in this case, though it was hard to tell in the darkness whether I had fallen asleep, or not - there was Tom. There was always some combination of sex, violence, and Tom. Other details changed, but those were constants. Sometimes I was Tom, and I would sleep with the woman from my dreams, and then I would kill myself in some spectacular fashion - jumping off of a building into a crowded street, or recorded live with thousands of viewers, guilt-ridden from robbing my friend, or else from a final sort of satisfaction. Other times I was myself, and Tom was with the woman, and I shot Tom in a jealous rage, or beat him. Or else Tom was the woman - either all along, or suddenly, unexpectedly - and I wouldn¡¯t realize it at first, and would sleep with the woman. Then the shock of it would drive me mad. I would kill him, then usually myself, as well. Always Tom. Always sex. Always violence. I never told Ms. Hayes about those dreams. You can imagine why. She¡¯d have had a field day. Sent me to the loony bin, if they even still had those. This time, there was only violence. I was punching Tom with numb fists. Bruising his perfect face, twisting the shit-eating grin. Dimly, as if through water, I heard a terrible sound, back in reality. I couldn¡¯t describe it if I tried, can only say that it sounded like what I imagined shooting a raw chicken out of a cannon into a concrete wall might sound like. I assumed that it must have been Nolan - perhaps he had hit a spike on the way down, or perhaps the ring was making me fall slightly slower, and he had reached to bottom first. I felt a little bad for him, despite it all. What a way to go. Splattered. Before I knew it, I had stopped. One moment there was that dizzying sensation of falling, plummeting down into the depths of the planet. The next moment, absolute stillness. No impact. I just wasn¡¯t falling anymore. It is entirely possible I had been sleeping during the fall, and equally possible that I had been sleeping for sometime at the bottom before waking up. In fact, it¡¯s more likely that these things happened than that they didn¡¯t, as I didn¡¯t feel the exhaustion any more. But it felt like very little time had passed. I opened my eyes, and I was staring at red-tinted mud, about an inch from my face, my nose nearly touching. The moisture of it brought to my attention another way things could have gone wrong - if there had been a pool of water at the bottom of the pit, would I have hovered above it? Or would I have plummeted down only to stop an inch above the very bottom, and drowned? That is, if I didn¡¯t break all of my bones when I hit the water. I was still a novice when it came to magic, and so I knew I¡¯d gotten lucky. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. I got to my feet - an interesting maneuver, with the ring on - and stood. Naomi¡¯s staff was still in my hand, and my slingshot still on my belt. Everything was accounted for except my drows - I had let go of it, of course. I only hoped the material it was made of would survive the fall. I assumed it would. Finding it would be another thing, though. I slipped off the ring, and my boots hit the wet ground with a splat. I looked around, happy to see that the ambient lighting had returned. Then, as things came into focus and recognition dawned, I half-wished it hadn¡¯t. I was in a large, flat space. The ambient lighting was that hellish-red, but I realized quickly that it wasn¡¯t the sole reason for the red earth. The dirt was soaked in blood. Like something out of a nightmare, bones jutted out of the ground everywhere, legions of the dead broken against the pit¡¯s bottom, refusing to sink below the surface. Littered among the bodies was trash of every description, and rats scurried among the wreckage, tearing bits of rotting meat from newer bones. These were not Kalamuzi, just regular rats, though large. None of this was as dreadful as the omphalos. I assumed that¡¯s what it was. If Naomi had not given me the name, I would have only seen it as an enormous pile of flesh. It rose above me like a gigantic beehive made of bodies and refuse, made of interlocking meat and bone and steel and leather and all manner of garbage heaped up impossibly. It was as tall as a ten story building, at least, and was domed at the top, and it was banded with bands of doors, and the doors led to wide avenues which hung suspended in the air - some by ropes, others supported by wood, bone, and old weapons, and other simply collapsed. And down these avenues walked Kalamuzi - dozens of them, hundreds of them. The mound was still far off, luckily. None of them could see me from where they walked. The smell was as unbearable as the sight, and I retched. It seemed to sting my nostrils, and the only solace was that before long, it was as if my sense of smell was so overwhelmed that I simply couldn¡¯t smell anything, anymore. Like how staring into the sun might make you blind - breathing in the coppery scent of blood, the sickening miasma of rot - it made my nose senseless. When the vomit came, there was a relief to be done with it. It was going to happen, so might as well get it over with. I wiped my mouth. If I had fallen down there at some other point - even just before Nolan had arrived - I would have despaired. I might have just curled up on the fetid ground, and waited to be picked clean by rats, rather than face this horrifying reality. But now, I was focused. I understood myself, fully. Dimen-X had sent me to discover wealth - I had done a better job of discovering myself. I was full of hate. Specifically, I hated Tom. Maybe someone would think badly of this, but I didn¡¯t. It¡¯s who I was. I wasn¡¯t Tom. I was the guy who was going to beat the shit out of Tom. I could live with that. Would I keep copying other people? Of course. I was still a parasite, still a broken NPC. But my understanding had deepened. I was a true parasite - one that killed its host, drained it of all it had. Not because it had to, though it did. But because it hated its host. And because that hatred, that parasitism, defined it. In my hand was Naomi¡¯s staff - I had every intention of returning it, but for now, it was mine, scavenged, a part of my collection. Joining it was a slingshot taken from her dead ally, and an extra steel ball looted from a long-dead adventurer. My fire magic was ripped from the dying breath of a Aryote, and the ring and the melting magic robbed from under Berenguer¡¯s nose. The move I¡¯d used against Nolan had been fleeced from Susanna¡¯s fight with Cadoc. Even my body, my face, was stolen - copied painstakingly from Tom. I was a scavenger, a thief, and I took what I had to, which was everything. If I wanted to get home again, I had to take. If I wanted to pay off my debts, my mom¡¯s debts, I¡¯d have to take. If I wanted to see my friends again, if I wanted to see Tom again, if I wanted to punch his nose in, I¡¯d have to take, and take, and take. By all means, Nolan should have been the one walking away from that fight. But he wasn¡¯t. Because I took his place. First I took his sword. Maybe I even took his honor, like he accused me of. I took mental photos of his lover, and guilt wouldn¡¯t keep me from looking at them, because maybe they would keep me going. I took his sword, his honor, and then, finally, his life. Suddenly, a question. It was strange how random the timing seemed to be, but that was something to consider another time. That alien dimension was asking me a question - the same question it had been asking me the whole time, ever since I had arrived. I hadn¡¯t been able to hear it before, only knew it was a question, only knew my answers were yes or no. But it was the question of my life. Will you take it? Yes. I felt Nolan¡¯s mana flow into me. Much of it seemed to vent out - electricity was not fire. But much of it I could use, and I focused on that. The heat that electricity causes. The burning. The destruction. My mana pool fed on these, and grew, and I felt stronger, reinvigorated. I wasn¡¯t crazy, and I wasn¡¯t evil. I knew that. I¡¯d suspected, at many times in my life, that I was, but I wasn¡¯t. Is a tapeworm crazy for eating your food before it reaches your stomach? Is it evil? Besides, unlike a tapeworm, I could use my parasitism and my stolen power for good. I could pay off my debt, pay off my mom¡¯s debt, and rescue my friends. Sure, I would also use it to beat Tom, but so what? I deserved that. I would also be making Dimen-X lots of money. That was just the cost of doing business. I looked around, and the bonefield didn¡¯t seem so bad, all of a sudden. It was full of trash, and among that trash, there could be things I could scavenge. My drows would be somewhere, and I had to believe that my friends were here somewhere, too. This was clearly the Kalamuzi¡¯s home, so Amaia and Naomi had to be, as long as they were still alive. If they weren¡¯t there, I would simply take everything I needed to get to them. As for Cadoc, that maniac would stay alive, somehow. And I¡¯d find him. I gripped Naomi¡¯s staff tightly in my left hand, and began searching for my drows. Chapter 72 - Thoughts in the Dark As I picked my way through the red-shifted wreckage of the fallen and abandoned, the feeling I got when absorbing mana from a dead enemy didn¡¯t go away. If anything, it intensified - an electric anticipation like constant goosebumps. I didn¡¯t hear the question anymore, but it was as if the reverberation of it hung in the air, echoing just above the surface of my skin. I considered this feeling as I walked, carefully avoiding rusty shards of metal - what an embarrassment it would be to die of tetanus after coming so far. The sensation wasn¡¯t painful, but what caused it? The thoughts ran idly as I navigated the debris, which was stacked taller than I was in some places. The question feeling hadn¡¯t stuck around like that any other time I¡¯d killed something. In fact, sometimes the feeling was so faint that I hardly even noticed it, and said yes to the question nearly subconsciously. Something was different, this time. Finally I stopped, frozen in thought, standing before another nameless skeleton and pile of ruined gear. ¡°Is this the Second Ring?¡± I wondered aloud. My voice sounded lonely in the pit - the only other noise the constant murmuring sound cause by the movements of the rats - and whatever else dwelled among the garbage. The idea was worth testing, I decided. Hurriedly, I took a single nail from my pocket, threw it on the ground and, careful to replace the staff in its strap on my back before casting, released a shot of mana into the nail. It ignited, the flame larger than it had been, but not hugely, and still much smaller than with the staff. I frowned. It seemed like a difference in degree, not what I would expect from going up an entire rank. Also, Amaia had said something about getting a new ¡°category¡± when you went up a level, based on the first thing you killed. The idea of a ¡°category¡± was still vague to me - the only examples I had were fire, wood, metal, cutting, and maybe lightning, counting Nolan. And Leah, with the Ice magic. And whatever Berenguer used. Other than cutting, they all seemed like elements. I didn¡¯t think I had any new spells, though how would I even know? Amaia had said it would be ¡°instinctive.¡± Maybe I didn¡¯t get into the Second Ring, I thought, scratching my chin. But maybe I¡¯m on the edge. Maybe the next thing I kill will put me over. That seemed possible. The feeling did have a certain ¡°bursting at the seams¡± quality to it. Nolan had to have been a First Ring mage - though I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if there were other cheating Second Ringers - but maybe he was close to advancing - maybe he had so much mana in his pool that killing him had rocketed me to the precipice of the Second Ring. Amaia hadn¡¯t talked too much about getting mana from other mages - only mentioned it once, I thought - but maybe that¡¯s just because she didn¡¯t think we¡¯d be murdering anyone. I shook my head. Self-defense. Not murder. It was an important distinction. ¡°If I¡¯m on the edge,¡± I muttered excitedly. ¡°Then I¡¯m about to get a new spell! That¡¯s just what I need right now. I should hurry up and find a Kalamuzi or something.¡± I looked around. There were still the Kalamuzi crowds coming and going from the omphalos, where it loomed high and far off, but I didn¡¯t like my chances against a swarm of them. If I could get one on its own¡­ I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and pivoted on my heel. But it was nothing. Just a rat. A normal rat. ¡°Would that work?¡± I wondered. Cadoc had mentioned way back that even animals had a small amount of magic. I shrugged. What harm was there in trying? Casually, I took my slingshot from my belt and loaded a steel ball. I pulled back the bands, took aim- And stopped. ¡°Wait a minute,¡± I said, furrowing my brow and lowering my weapon. ¡°Amaia said that the category you get is based on what you kill, right? What the hell kind of magic would I get from a rat?¡± The rat scurried off as I considered it, likely having no idea how lucky it had just gotten. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. It was a more complicated question than it seemed. When I asked it of myself, I had said it dismissively, like it was obviously foolish to kill a rat for your Ring Category - or whatever you called it. But the more I thought of it, the more I realized how ignorant I was. Maybe killing a rat would give you disease magic. ¡°Just what I need,¡± I said sarcastically. ¡°The ability to give my own body diseases. Cower in fear as I cast leprosy. On myself.¡± Or maybe it would let me grow out big buck teeth, or move stealthily, hear better, or grow a tail. Were those categories? Tail magic? Teeth magic? Could I influence it? I wondered. When I took Nolan¡¯s magic, I could feel my body picking through it, absorbing some parts and discarding other parts. Could I do that consciously? I sighed heavily. Unfortunately, that wasn¡¯t the kind of thing you could test before committing. If I killed the rat, and focused my mind on absorbing the category of ¡°stealth,¡± for instance - I could certainly use some stealth - I could just end up with ¡°disease,¡± anyway. These were all just theories, after all. I wished Amaia was around. Or Naomi, even. One of them would know what to do, would at least have some idea. Especially Amaia, being a Second Ring mage herself. I regretted not asking Amaia more questions while she was around - I had thought I could ask her whenever, since she wasn¡¯t going anywhere, and so there was no rush. Besides, talking to her was aggravating enough that I did it sparingly. ¡°Guess I could always wait until I find them,¡± I grumbled. I was a disappointing idea, but I couldn¡¯t waste this opportunity. This was my chance to fix my magic, to get something actually useful. Sure, I¡¯d still be a body mage, but at least I could be something more dangerous, like the Cho¡¯l. And then, for one moment, my heart sank. If I want to wait until Amaia is back, I thought. Does that mean I can¡¯t kill anything? Otherwise I¡¯ll be stuck with whatever worthless power I get. Shit. But no, I realized with relief, that wasn¡¯t how it worked. I should just be able to say no after everything I killed. Which led to its own set of questions; who gets the mana if I say no? The Kalamuzi scurrying around? Or does it just evaporate? Normally one of your companions gets it, it seems. If Cadoc is wandering around down here, would he get it? ¡°No use thinking about it too hard,¡± I said. ¡°Now is the time for action, not theories.¡± On the other hand, I needed a plan. I had to assume that the women were inside the omphalos somewhere, and I had to assume that Cadoc was either with them, or out here in the bonefield with me. I would press forward with those assumptions until it was impossible to continue - then I¡¯d reassess, if I absolutely had to. The cavern was a massive oval - one half containing the omphalos. The half I was in was like the trash heap of the trash heap, I thought. It was hard to imagine the Kalamuzi ever throwing something away, and yet there I was, in something like a landfill. Or maybe it was where the Kalamuzi sorted through new things, whatever fell from above. If I looked carefully, I could see agile Kalamuzi scaling the walls of the omphalos, carrying buckets of trash and gore with their pinkish tails. They grabbed handfuls of the filth, and used it to fill in gaps in the walls - or so I assumed. I couldn¡¯t see any gaps from that distance. The idea that the Kalamuzi might come here to find new building materials was both a worrying thought, and an exciting one. On one hand, that meant the risk of being discovered. On the other had, it meant that they would likely come in a smaller group. A manageable amount of enemies, perhaps. And builders, not warriors. If that made a difference. My first order of business was simple: find my drows. At the moment, I had nothing I could use at close range. I had to fix that, and I had to do it before something down here found me. My nerves were starting to fray - I felt inexplicably like I was being watched. I begun plodding through the blood-soaked mud again, eyes alternating between scanning my surroundings and peering down at the trash at my feet. There was little ability to hide - my steps left large wet footprints in the mud, and the noise of it made me wince. I stayed within a few yards of the cavern¡¯s edge, following its course, keeping it in sight. It was the only point of reference down there besides the omphalos. Everything else blended together. I became more uneasy as time went - both out of frustration, and because I knew I was acting on borrowed time. The longer I took, the worse chances my friends had. The feeling that something was following me didn¡¯t help, either. I kept stealing glances back behind me, when some splatter or shifting trash would catch my attention, but never saw anything certain. Ghosts of movement, sometimes, but faint enough to be nothing but shadows. Maybe. I thought through the possibilities as I searched. Cadoc was a wild card - he hadn¡¯t been captured, only injured, and I didn¡¯t think the injury would kill him. He might kill himself in some idiotic charge, but otherwise, he should be safe enough. I didn¡¯t need to worry about him any more than normal. Amaia and Noami, on the other hand¡­ why hadn¡¯t the Kalamuzi just eaten them? I had assumed they were saving them for later, but then what? Would they be kept as livestock, maybe? I remembered the kidnapped women and children again, from the town we had passed, Graja. Livestock. That could be it. It was honestly a reassuring thought. You didn¡¯t kill your livestock for no reason. And they¡¯d probably fatten them up first, before eating them. If they had other prisoners - which they almost certainly did, I thought - then they should be the last to be eaten, right? It was all disturbing, but not impossible. I had time. Of course, I only had a couple of weeks until I needed to send my mom more money than I¡¯d ever possessed in my life. One problem at a time. If the ratmen piled all of their loot inside that wretched hive, I would be able to find something, surely. I needed to find a way in, find out where the women were being held, find a way to break them free, find a way to contact Cadoc, and find a way back out. I looked up at the yawning expanse of blackness. That last one might be the hardest of them all. When I returned my eyes to my surroundings, I saw it. There, sticking nearly straight up, half of its length sunken in the detritus, was my drows. I grinned wildly, and rushed to it. Well, rushed as quickly as I could while wading through the muck. In my haste, I failed to notice the quick sounds of something approaching, the wet footsteps swallowed up by my own. I grabbed at the antisword, and it came free from the mud easily. I raised it above my head in a gesture of triumph. I still didn¡¯t have a solid plan, but at least now I could break some Kalamuzi bones. Killing the runts, despite the fact that it could have gone better, had given me some confidence. I could kill Kalamuzi, if I was smart. I had lots of tools at my disposal. Then something lunged at me from behind, screeching in some bestial tongue. Chapter 73 - King of the Trash Wrong move. I was calm. My mind was focused on a single thought, like some sort of Buddhist meditation, all other thoughts flashed to nothing in an instant, and time slowed that I might better dial in. My singular focus: hate. I wanted to destroy. The creature had landed on my back. It wanted my backpack. I knew this as if the information had already been in my head. Instinct. My hand closed around one of its scrawny wrists, and by the feel of the fur I knew it was a Kalamuzi. A runt. It cried out in surprise, though I hardly heard it through the fog of concentration - it had likely planned to grab my belongings and run. It was probably after my food. It hadn¡¯t expected me to move so fast, hadn¡¯t wanted a fight. Probably had never run into a survivor of the pit - at least, not one who was uninjured, who could react at full speed. I pulled, flipping the Kalamuzi over my shoulder and slamming it onto the ground. The move felt right every time I did it - felt like a good habit - felt like a warm shower after a cold day. It landed in the mud with a wet crunch. Either it had landed on something, or else this was the frailest-boned Kalamuzi yet, and the toss had broken a rib. The beady eyes looked up at me, and already some small part of my mind revolted, lost its focus, abandoned ranks to tell me to feel sorry for the rat. It looked something next to scared. Good, I thought. The last thing the runt saw was my drows, as it came crashing down on its skull. It only took one strike. Breathing deeply, I shot my drows up overhead again in one defiant fist, puffed out my chest, and rotated, looking all around me. ¡°Anyone else?¡± I asked. To my surprise, someone responded. I knew there might have been more Kalamuzi near at hand, but this wasn¡¯t the wicked squeal of a monster. The sound was a dry laughter, like someone laughing at a joke half-at their own expense. ¡°Ah!¡± the voice said, sounding somewhere on the border between sarcastic and sincere. ¡°Well done. I do not know who you are trying to impress in this hole, but you have impressed me. Bravo.¡± I turned, full of nerves, expecting an attack. The voice came from behind me, and slightly above. I peered up. Atop a mountain of refuse sat a rotting chair, and atop the chair, looking down, sat a¡­ man? Kalamuzi? ¡°Welcome to my humble domain, traveler,¡± the mass of shadows said with mock grandiosity, rising from his seat, and taking a bow. His features were shrouded., and he wore a hood over his head. ¡°You wanna go?¡± I asked, challenging, pointing my weapon at him. He must have been one of the smart Kalamuzi, I thought. But I¡¯d killed one before. He didn¡¯t scare me. ¡°Must we jump right to violence?¡± he responded. ¡°I wish you no harm. Let us talk like civilized creatures. I am no enemy of yours. And I am dreadfully lacking in good conversation. Violence, on the other hand, I could have my fill of whenever I like.¡± He took a step forward, still atop his pile, and threw back his hood. His features were mostly human, although shallow and gaunt, his nose drawing to a severe point. But his ears were placed too high on his head, and were much too large, and that feature alone betrayed him as something monstrous. He was dressed head to toe in rags, and I couldn¡¯t tell if his face was covered in thin fur, or merely a five-o-clock shadow. I hesitated. ¡°Are you human?¡± I asked, gripping my drows tighter. He smiled, revealing teeth that were too sharp for his human visage. ¡°A philosopher, are we?¡± he responded, smirking. ¡°I have pondered that riddle many times myself. I have not yet come to a satisfactory answer.¡± He seemed like one of the higher-sort of ratmen, but even moreso. He was clearly intelligent. His speech was perfect - if I closed my eyes, I could almost have been fooled into thinking it belonged to a normal man. Only the words came out raspy and high, and he squeaked on occasion like a voice crack. ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked, still suspicious. He talked almost like a friend, but in a way that an enemy might. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°Have you not heard of me?¡± he asked, still wearing his somber smile. ¡°Do the surface dwellers not sing tales of me?¡± He laughed again, and for the first time I caught a glimpse of his tail, swishing to the side as if to accentuate his words. ¡°No, I suppose they don¡¯t. He spread his arms wide. ¡°I am the King of the Trash Pile, Prince of the Filth, Regent of the Refuse, Grand Vizier of the Rotting Corpses, Lord of the Shit. A pleasure, I am sure.¡± I frowned. ¡°You¡¯re king of the Kalamuzi?¡± I asked. He laughed again. ¡°No, thank the heavens. I find my garbage much more agreeable. But come.¡± He motioned at me, ¡°Let us talk inside. Before another of my brothers comes and interrupts us.¡± Before I could respond to the ¡°brothers¡± comment, which half-sounded like it was said in jest, the figure hopped forwards a little, landed on a beaten-up shield which had been lying on the pile, near his chair. The momentum of the jump started it in motion, and he slid down the wreckage, surfing the shield down in seconds. Bits of viscera and slime crested like waves. Then he scampered off, not waiting for me. He was making towards the outer wall of the cavern. I ran after him, after doubting myself for a moment. What other plan did I have? Maybe this stranger could help me find Amaia and Naomi. He clearly lived down there. I¡¯ll have to be on guard, though, I thought. This might be some sort of trick. Maybe he¡¯s leading me to a trap. I followed him despite that danger. I still wasn¡¯t sure whether he was friend or foe, but he was simply too intelligent for me to want him out of sight. If he was an enemy, I wanted to kill him right then and there, and be done with it, not have him sneak up on me later. Could a Kalamuzi be reasonable? I wondered as I followed, carving a twisting path through uncountable columns of gore and garbage. Risthindicthi could talk, could bargain, but he still attacked me, still wanted to kidnap Naomi. Could a ratman be good? Actually, I thought. Was he watching when the runt attacked me? He had to have been. So on one hand, that¡¯s a point against him, since he could have intervened, and didn¡¯t. On the other hand, he could have attacked me at the same time, ambushed me. And he didn¡¯t. So that¡¯s a point in his favor, I guess. Half a point. At the very least, he can communicate. Even if he wants to entrap me, I can always simply challenge him to a duel. It¡¯s worked before. Besides, I¡¯m not so scared of a single ratman anymore. Let him fucking try to kill me. But I really didn¡¯t think it was a trap. He wasn¡¯t even armed, from what I could see, although that didn¡¯t mean he didn¡¯t have a dagger stashed away in his rags, or that he couldn¡¯t just use his teeth and claws. But I didn¡¯t sense danger from the ¡°king,¡± and the further he led me, the less in danger I felt. He whistled tunelessly as we went. Also, he looked so human that simply killing him on sight would have felt a lot like murder. That was certainly a consideration. For a moment I saw Nolan¡¯s face in my mind again. I shook it away. I¡¯d been thinking about what Cadoc had said about the dungeons corrupting people. Maybe that¡¯s all this ¡°king¡± was. An adventurer - or even a local, someone who had lived up above before the dungeon had appeared - who had been partially corrupted. Just an unlucky man. That thought lessened my nerves, a bit. That is, until he led me to an unremarkable bit of cavern wall. A dead-end. I sighed. ¡°Is this the part where you attack me?¡± I asked. I drew my drows again. I was ready. The king laughed. He didn¡¯t even flinch at me drawing my weapon. ¡°Attack a guest? What do you think I am, an animal?¡± He peaked his head back at me over his shoulder, and flashed me a knowing grin. Then he began pushing aside a large stone I hadn¡¯t even noticed before. He grunted and strained while I watched, but he moved it quickly enough. Behind it was a little tunnel, small enough that I¡¯d have to crawl through. If I squinted, I thought I could see faint light coming from further in. But I never would have noticed it, even with the entrance uncovered. ¡°I¡¯ll go first,¡± the king said. ¡°And get the kettle going. I don¡¯t have much to offer, but I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯re too picky. You don¡¯t look the type. Not that I¡¯d know, I suppose.¡± He got onto his belly and crawled into the gap. I sighed, and followed. The king got through the tunnel much faster than I did, beating me inside by several minutes, but after an uncomfortable stretch of cramped tunnel, I came out into a little room. The first thing that caught my attention were the flames. A fireplace of sorts was carved into the stone wall, and the light came from there, a fire burning, which gave the space the most comfortable atmosphere I¡¯d seen since descending. The fireplace had a chimney rising above it, but I had no idea where the smoke went. An black-iron kettle already hung from a rod over the flames, which the king was grabbing with mitted hands. A pile of wood sat nearby, and it was clear that they were scavenged from all manner of objects - I could see, for instance, a chair leg jutting out from the pile. Besides that, there was a wooden table - nicer than I would have expected - and two wooden chairs sat opposite each other. The rest of the room was filled with junk - old weapons hung on the walls, pelts of unknown origin were draped over nearly everything, cups and dishes and tools strewn everywhere. A pile of cloth and furs in the corner must have serviced as a bed. ¡°I always thought I was being overly optimistic, keeping two chairs,¡± the king said. He seemed to have already been talking when I came in. ¡°Should just use it for firewood, I would sometimes think. But look at me now.¡± There were two simple cups on the table, and he poured a steaming liquid into each. Then he gestured to one of the chairs. ¡°Sit, please.¡± I did, but I kept one hand in my pocket, just in case. All I¡®d have to do was throw out a handful of nails, and the fight would be over. Especially if I held Naomi¡¯s staff while I did it. I didn¡¯t like knocking myself out with it, but in a space like this, I¡¯d probably be fairly safe to rest, afterwards. I took the staff off of my back, and propped it against the table, so that I could always have it close at hand. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked. I held out hope that the man was friendly, despite my precautions. I could use some help. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s probably rude not to give your name,¡± he said sullenly. ¡°But my name is a curse, and I do not give it lightly. I am ashamed of the name, to tell you the truth.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not exactly giving very helpful answers.¡± ¡°That is fair,¡± he responded. ¡°Very fair. You don¡¯t trust me. Why would you? I suppose that is why your hand is clenched around some weapon in your pocket.¡± I didn¡¯t say anything. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll go ahead and tell you the awful truth, then. Yes, I am a Kalamuzi.¡± I flinched, but he held up a hand. ¡°Don¡¯t go killing me quite yet, please. As I said, I am no enemy of yours. If you let me tell you my story, I think you will see the unending tragedy of my existence, and take pity on my poor soul. If not, you may strike me down afterwards. Agreed?¡± I nodded. I wasn¡¯t a murderer. So I settled in to the chair, still tense, and listened to the Kalamuzi¡¯s story. Chapter 74 - Kalamuzi History ¡°Well,¡± he said, sighing deeply, running his hands through his short hair, ¡°I¡¯ve played this many times over in my head, but I suppose I never ever actually expected to meet anyone down here in my prison. Not anyone alive and well, that is. Now that the moment has come, I¡¯m not sure where to start.¡± He brought his drink to his lips and sipped. ¡°The beginning would be nice,¡± I said. I took a drink as well. I reasoned that it couldn¡¯t be poisoned, as he had poured both from the same kettle. It was hot, and tasted like dirt, but even hot dirt water was decent when you were thirsty. A thin smile peeked over the rim of his cup. ¡°Naturally, yes, the beginning. Well, my dear¡­ what was your name again?¡± I almost protested, since he still hadn¡¯t given me his name, but what was the point? ¡°Miles,¡± I said. ¡°Miles, yes, that¡¯s right,¡± he said, nodding, despite the fact that I hadn¡¯t told him it before. ¡°My dear Miles, my honored guest. Let us start at the beginning. ¡°In the beginning there was only¡­ well, the best word in the human tongue is hunger, but it is a much more primal, broader word in the Kalamuzi language - if you can call our squeaks and cries a language.¡± He shook his head wistfully. ¡°But let us go with hunger. In the beginning there was only hunger, the idea, a great wanting without physical expression.¡± He spread his arms wide to indicate an empty space. ¡°Then, the great hunger took form,¡± he said, bringing his hands together, clasping them into a ball. ¡°And it became the ravenous Olsgolon - our Mother.¡± I leaned forward. To know where the Kalamuzi came from, how they were made, maybe that would give me some sort of advantage over them. I figured the core had made them, and maybe it had. Maybe that¡¯s what the Kalamuzi called the core. Olsgolon. ¡°Olsgolon wanted more,¡± he said. ¡°She wanted the world, and the world was her right. But she was immobile. So, she took what surrounded her, where she had come into this world - and she took this material into herself, and from it formed the Kalamuzi. She birthed us. ¡°In order to carry out her will, the Kalamuzi were imbued with the endless desire to take. She sent them off into the world with sacred orders - ha! - to steal from the surface, and bring the best things back to her.¡± He shook his head again. ¡°Alas, that is exactly what they did. The Kalamuzi, in their short incarnation, have killed and pillaged, and done very little else. Do I not belong to an illustrious family?¡± He took another sip of his dirt water. ¡°You know,¡± he said. ¡°I doubt any human - any real human, not whatever I am, which I will get to - has ever heard this story before. Do you feel lucky?¡± I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m starting to wonder why you¡¯re telling me this.¡± ¡°For you to pity me, of course. Why else? But let us continue. ¡°The Kalamuzi took, and took, and if that were all, perhaps their existence would not have been so damaging. Perhaps we would already have been wiped out. Heavens help us that it may still yet happen. But, to the great despair of the world, one early Kalamuzi, name lost to time, made a *ahem* discovery. ¡°In one of their many raids, this Kalamuzi, my famed ancestor, took a woman. This was not unusual, as I understand it - human sacrifice to our Mother was common, and still is. This Kalamuzi then chose to lay with the woman. That is to put it gently, you understand, Miles. This, too, was not unheard of. The Kalamuzi take everything, after all. And despite the fact that all Kalamuzi are male, they do have the requisite parts. Why Olsgolon made us that way, I can only guess. ¡°His innovation,¡± he said the word with a snarl. ¡°Was that he didn¡¯t kill or sacrifice the woman immediately afterwards. My forebear so enjoyed himself that he decided to keep her as a slave.¡± He drained the last of his drink. ¡°Heavens above, what am I doing? I need something stronger for this.¡± He rose, walked over to some pile of junk that was navigable only by him, and reached his hand in. Without disturbing the pile, he pulled from it a bottle, the outside glazed over such that you couldn¡¯t see the contents. ¡°There we are,¡± he said, and poured himself a glass of hazy liquid. He motioned the bottle to me, but I shook my head. Whatever it was, I probably didn¡¯t want it. The smell stung my nostrils. He shrugged, and returned to his seat. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. He took a drink from his newly refreshed cup, and winced. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s better. So, right. The story. ¡°The Kalamuzi kept the woman as a sex slave, so that he could use her to satisfy his desires whenever he liked. Which, small mercy, was not often. Kalamuzi only produce - forgive my language - sperm once every month or more. And,¡± he said this next part with mock sadness. ¡°What great tragedy, he never had the chance to use the woman again. She had become pregnant.¡± I started. In fact, I almost gasped, but I held it in. The Kalamuzi looked at me, and I nodded for him to continue. I had to know, now. ¡°About three weeks later, she gave birth. A Motherless birth, the Kalamuzi call it, because the resulting Kalamuzi was not brought about by our Mother, but by a human woman. They do not understand that this human woman is the mother of the offspring, the idiots. In the Kalamuzi language, the word for mother refers only to Olsgolon. ¡°And yes, what came out of this woman was a litter of Kalamuzi. An unusually small litter, as it came to be found, which saved the woman, for a time. Most of those born were no different from a standard Kalamuzi. But one of them - Kreetartipquiki - came out half-furless, and half-intelligent. Half-human, you could say, though I hesitate to.¡± ¡°Like you?¡± I asked, putting the pieces together. And like Risthindicthi, I thought. The Kalamuzi smiled, but shook his head. ¡°Not exactly, but we will get there soon. Have patience.¡± I nodded. ¡°This new breed of Kalamuzi,¡± he continued. ¡°Was given a name, with all the creative energies of the Kalamuzi brain behind it - a Talker. The Talkers gave themselves that name, of course, since only they are able to speak in the tongue of both Kalamuzi and Man. More or less. ¡°And so the world shuddered. Now the Kalamuzi, an all-male race, which depended on Olsgolon for their thankfully-slow reproduction, now had the means to explode in population. And, they had a leader. That leader - Kreetartipquiki, you remember - was smart enough to see the importance of this, and started what is now a Kalamuzi tradition - kidnapping.¡± ¡°Do they take women for any other reason?¡± I asked. I feared for the safety of Naomi and Amaia, naked in some Kalamuzi prison. They could fend them off, maybe, even unarmed - but for how long? He looked at me for some time, as if reading my mind and not wanting to dash my hopes. ¡°Yes,¡± he said at last. ¡°There are still human sacrifices, as I said.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± I said. ¡°Friends of yours have been captured, have they?¡± he guessed. I nodded. He offered me a drink again, and I refused again. He took a gulp of his own. ¡°Well, we can hear your miserable life story next, I suppose. Now where was I? ¡°Right, kidnapping. Well, long story short, these Talkers made the Kalamuzi into a much bigger threat. Before, we were like animals. Afterwards, like dumb, savage men. The Talkers became generals, kings and princes. Those are not exactly the names they use, but that isn¡¯t important. They needed a constant supply of female slaves to create more Talkers, as most of the women would die in childbirth. Human beings aren¡¯t made to give birth to as many as eighteen children at once. And for whatever reason, sometimes the union didn¡¯t create a Talker, only regular Kalamuzi. But over time, the number of Talkers grew. ¡°My father was one of those Talkers,¡± he said. ¡°Perhaps you can guess what comes next, but I will say it quickly. My father was the first Talker to lay with a human woman, successfully. Most talkers come out quite infertile, you know. The curse of being a half-breed. But not my old Dad, no sir.¡± He laughed bitterly. ¡°He had a son, and he named him Lotsqueekinerik. ¡°And so here I am!¡± he shouted, arms wide, face towards the ceiling. ¡°The most human of all the Kalamuzi - or perhaps only the most monstrous of all men.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re three-fourths human?¡± I asked. That explained why he was so agreeable, I supposed. ¡°That is one way to put it,¡± he responded. ¡°But does that make me anything but a monster?¡± I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. You were right, though. It is a tragic story. So how did you get here?¡± I motioned to the cave around us. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you leading the Kalamuzi in battle? Did they kick you out for being too human?¡± He guffawed, bolted upright, and shouted down at me. ¡°Do you think I would fight alongside those vermin?!¡± I stood as well, thinking he was about to attack me, but he held up his hands in a sign of peace. ¡°I am sorry,¡± he said. ¡°You didn¡¯t know. Couldn¡¯t know. I let my temper get the better of me.¡± He motioned for my seat, and we both sat again. ¡°No,¡± he said simply. ¡°They did not kick me out. I left. ¡°My mother survived the birth, and she taught me everything I know. Told me stories about the surface, about the tiered city of Eraztun, flowering Ushante on its cliff, and the oasis of Sama, jewel of the desert. She taught me to speak, taught me to read - only whatever scraps ended up down here, but you¡¯d be surprised. More than anything, she taught me what a human being was like. She treated me like one, even if I am¡­ as you see. ¡°I was taken on one raid,¡± he said, hanging his head. ¡°And I despise myself for it. It was before I came to my senses. In the dead of night, such that I couldn¡¯t even see the outside world - only the stars, which I have dreamed of ever since. When the nightmares spare me.¡± ¡°What happened?¡± I asked. He shook his head. ¡°No,¡± he said simply. ¡°I will not tell that story. Let it suffice to say that it soured me to the Kalamuzi, to the Omphalos, to Olsgolon herself. So I left. My mother had died by that point - impregnated by another Kalamuzi. My father died when he attacked that Kalamuzi, in a fit of jealous rage. I am orphaned, and I am alone.¡± ¡°And so,¡± I said, nodding, certain of where the story ended. ¡°You hid out here among the trash, biding your time, plotting your revenge.¡± ¡°Revenge?¡± the Kalamuzi started. ¡°How could I possibly have revenge on them? I am only one monster, however human I may look in poor light. And even one human could not defeat them, let alone one tragedy like myself.¡± I frowned. ¡°Then what are you doing here? Leave!¡± He laughed. ¡°You say it like it is easy, Miles. I cannot simply leave, though I desire to strongly, I assure you. The entrance is guarded, and they would only let me out if I proved to them I was loyal again. If I cannot do that, they would not even let me into the Omphalos. And I cannot. Will not.¡± ¡°So what, you¡¯re just going to sit around here and do nothing?¡± I asked. ¡°Just rot in some hole and wait to die?¡± ¡°That is about the whole of my plans for future, yes.¡± I spit on his floor. ¡°Coward,¡± I said. He rose to his feet again, and so did I, hand on the staff. But he calmed himself again before violence broke out. ¡°What about you,¡± he asked. ¡°You¡¯re in this pit now as well as I. What do you plan do to?¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to break my friends out of the Omphalos,¡± I said. ¡°And you¡¯re going to get me inside.¡± Chapter 75 - Poking the Rat The Kalamuzi laughed in my face. ¡°And when did I agree to do that?¡± he asked. I took my hand out of my pocket and placed it on the table. I had no fear of being attacked anymore. The fire still crackled in the corner, but it was growing a little fainter, casting flickering shadows that danced to inaudible music. ¡°Listen Lotsq- what the hell was your name again?¡± ¡°You would make me repeat it?¡± he asked, a serious look on his face. He seemed almost offended, again. He got offended even easier than Cadoc did, I thought to myself. What a hassle. I sighed. ¡°Well I¡¯ve got to call you something.¡± I thought for a moment. ¡°How about Lot?¡± I suggested. ¡°It¡¯s a real name.¡± ¡°Lot?¡± he repeated, scratching his chin. It looked like he was giving some real consideration. ¡°It¡¯s a human name?¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right, a human name. What do you think I¡¯d do, give you a dog¡¯s name? It¡¯s not fucking Spot or something. Lot.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Then it doesn¡¯t fit me.¡± ¡°Well that¡¯s just too bad,¡± I said. ¡°Because that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to call you, Lot.¡± He grimaced a bit, but didn¡¯t protest any further. I pushed on. ¡°Now listen. I¡¯ve got two friends of mine locked inside that Omphalos.¡± I pointed in the direction of it, though of course we couldn¡¯t see it from inside Lot¡¯s hideout. ¡°And I¡¯m going to get them out. That is going to happen, just as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow.¡± I paused. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s a bad analogy. You¡¯ve never seen the sun, have you?¡± He shook his head. ¡°No, I¡¯ve never seen the sun, and I¡¯ve also never seen anyone-¡° I held up a hand. ¡°Shut up, Lot, I don¡¯t want to hear it.¡± One of his over-sized ears twitched at this, but he stopped talking. ¡°Listen to what I¡¯m saying to you. I am going to get those two women out. I¡¯m going to do that if I have to burn the whole fucking dungeon to the ground. You were about to tell me some shit about how it¡¯s impossible, how I¡¯d die if I tried. Maybe you¡¯re right. Maybe I will die. Dead or not, this is happening. If I die, then my ghost will haunt the Kalamuzi until they kill themselves, you understand? ¡°I have the magic,¡± I said, and he started at that. I continued, ignoring it. ¡°I¡¯ve got the fire, and I¡¯ve got the hatred. All I need is to find a way inside that isn¡¯t crawling with Kalamuzi. ¡°But I have no idea how long that will take,¡± I said. ¡°And time is of the essence. I need to get in there before the Kalamuzi rape or sacrifice my friends. If I try to find an entrance myself, maybe I¡¯d be too late. If I have to, I¡¯ll just fight my way through. But you could get me inside.¡± ¡°You have magic?¡± he asked, eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar. He seemed a little skeptical. ¡°My mother told me stories about magic.¡± Then he turned away, a forlorn look in his eyes. ¡°Alas, they kept her drained, so I never saw it in person.¡± Maybe a demonstration will help convince him, I thought. I stuck my hand back in my pocket, grabbed a nail, and drew it out. I threw it into the air, and ignited it. I made sure not to touch the staff. It burst into a little fireball, a sun in miniature floating between the two of us for the space of a second. Somehow Lot¡¯s eyes went even wider than before. ¡°Amazing,¡± he said breathlessly. ¡°Absolutely amazing.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle a little. He had to have been the first person I¡¯d met who was actually impressed by my magic. ¡°That¡¯s nothing,¡± I said. ¡°If I¡¯d been holding this staff when I did it,¡± I raised it up in one hand, ¡°we wouldn¡¯t be having this conversation. We¡¯d be too busy screaming in agony as our faces melted off.¡± Lot eyed the staff with suspicion. Then he shook his head again, but this time in disbelief. ¡°I see why you are so confident. The Kalamuzi have nothing with which to counter that.¡± His eyes furrowed. ¡°But then, why do you need this poor degenerate at all? Why not go, burn them all, and be done with it?¡± ¡°Because if I use the staff,¡± I explained. ¡°Then I get drained, and then I can¡¯t do anything until I¡¯ve slept. So if anyone survives, I¡¯d be fucked.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Ah,¡± Lot said, slumping back into his chair. ¡°Then it¡¯s hopeless. There will always be more Kalamuzi.¡± I clenched my fists. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you?¡± I shouted at him. ¡°Don¡¯t be such a fucking pushover. It¡¯s not hopeless. If you get me inside,¡± I unsheathed my drows. ¡°Then I can fight them with this. One-on-one, they don¡¯t stand a chance. You saw that one earlier. One hit.¡± I swung through the air as if to demonstrate. ¡°That was only a runt,¡± he said dismissively, and I was surprised they used the same term I had thought of. ¡°I¡¯ve killed others,¡± I said, starting to sound slightly deranged, I was sure. ¡°I even killed a Talker.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Lot asked. ¡°What was his name?¡± ¡°Risthindicthi.¡± Lot shook his head. ¡°I didn¡¯t know him. But that is a Kalamuzi name, no doubt. And considering you can¡¯t even pronounce mine, I know you couldn¡¯t have come up with a fake. So I suppose I¡¯ll believe you.¡± ¡°Good,¡± I said. ¡°Then you¡¯ll help me. How do we get in?¡± ¡°You are not a good listener, are you, Miles?¡± he said. He seemed to have calmed down again, resigned himself. He was relaxed into his chair, leaning back as if having a casual, inconsequential conversation. ¡°I am only a pitiable freak. I cannot help you.¡± ¡°You know how to get in,¡± I replied. ¡°I¡¯m sure you do. You lived in the Omphalos most of your life. That¡¯s enough to help.¡± He turned to me again. ¡°And what, pray tell, do I get out of this? Besides a chance at the sweet release of death, which I could have without you, you know.¡± I leaned over the table, locked eyes with Lot, didn¡¯t blink. I hadn¡¯t noticed before, but his eyes weren¡¯t exactly black, like the beady eyes of the average Kalamuzi, but blue. A very dark shade of blue. ¡°You talk like you want to die,¡± I said. ¡°Like you¡¯re some miserable bastard, too depressed to function and too cowardly to do yourself in. But you don¡¯t want to kill yourself. You want revenge. I could see it in your eyes when you told your story. And when I suggested that you could have led the Kalamuzi in battle, you nearly attacked me right here in your home. Don¡¯t argue, I saw you. You hate them. You wish every last Kalamuzi was dead. Am I wrong?¡± ¡°What is the point, Miles?¡± he asked, head hung. ¡°Am I wrong?¡± ¡°No, you¡¯re not exactly wrong, but-¡° ¡°But you gave up,¡± I finished pointing an accusing finger at him. ¡°Because you were too weak. Because you weren¡¯t fit for it, weren¡¯t the right person for the job. That¡¯s what you tell yourself. But you still hate them. I can see it. You still hate them for what they did to your mother, what they did to innocent people, and what they did to you, what they made you do.¡± Lot stood again, but rather than launch himself at me, he began pacing back and forth, not looking at me, his tail whipping violently side-to-side. He was clenching and unclenching his fists, and his breathing quickened. ¡°You are a guest, Miles,¡± he muttered as if to himself. ¡°But I am warning you. Do not speak of my mother.¡± ¡°You¡¯re angry,¡± I said, standing as well, slamming my fists on the table. The two cups jumped - mine fell over. ¡°Good. Focus on it. Look at me, Lot.¡± He turned to face me but wouldn¡¯t meet my eyes. I stepped forward, poking at his chest with one finger. ¡°Do you feel that?¡± I asked. ¡°Feel that tightness there? That¡¯s power. That¡¯s what you use to get shit done.¡± He swatted my hand away. ¡°Feelings don¡¯t change anything,¡± he said. He walked over to the other end of the room like he was scared of me, wanted to keep his distance. ¡°It¡¯s impossible.¡± ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± I said to his back. ¡°Feelings change everything. You feel like you can¡¯t do anything, so you can¡¯t. But you could. And now, here it is, an opportunity to make the Kalamuzi fucking pay. Are you really going to hide here in your hole and let it pass you by? Will you be able to live with yourself if you don¡¯t even try to avenge your mother?¡± He turned to face me. ¡°I warned you, Miles.¡± ¡°Fight me, then!¡± I yelled, arms wide. ¡°Prove that you¡¯re a human being, and not a cold, uncaring rat. Because only a fucking animal hides away in a hole. Only a monster could pretend their own mother didn¡¯t exist.¡± ¡°What would you have me do?!¡± he shouted back. ¡°Kill myself? Sacrifice my life in some noble, pointless charge, one against many, some vainglorious final stand? What would that change?¡± His voice went low again, almost a whisper. ¡°Nothing. It wouldn¡¯t change anything. It wouldn¡¯t bring her back.¡± ¡°Show me the way inside,¡± I said again. ¡°And you will be saving two women from suffering the same fate your mother did. That¡¯s not nothing.¡± His tail stood rigid and straight as he shook his head. ¡°It can¡¯t be done.¡± I only stared at him, and he repeated himself, louder. ¡°I¡¯m telling you it can¡¯t be done! Let us imagine that I agree to help you. Then what? I already told you they won¡¯t let me in unless I show that I am loyal to Olsgolon, that- that-.¡± He wanted to curse her, clearly, but for whatever reason, he didn¡¯t. ¡°So what, I sacrifice you to her? Sacrifice some stranger we find? I¡¯m not doing it. I refuse.¡± ¡°Good,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re thinking. Keep going. Is there a back way in? Could we pretend that I was a sacrifice? Would they accept something other than a sacrifice?¡± ¡°What is this game, Miles? Fine. No, there is not ¡®back way¡¯ in. Every entrance is swarmed with Kalamuzi. And no, we could not ¡®pretend¡¯ to sacrifice you. When you take in a sacrifice, especially a live one, it¡¯s a ceremonial occasion. There would be a priest escorting us at the absolute minimum. And the Talker runaway returning? There would be a crowd.¡± ¡°And something other than a sacrifice?¡± I pressed. ¡°The only other thing they would take would be a pile of treasures,¡± he said, teeth barred. ¡°Or a breeding slave. And I¡¯m not going to go kidnap some innocent woman just so that you can get your friends back. I don¡¯t care if two is greater than one, and I don¡¯t care if they¡¯re friends of yours. I refuse to do it. So now you see that it¡¯s impossible.¡± I was grinning. It was so simple. The idea was absolutely insane, but it could work. It could really work. Lot¡¯s anger was replaced partially by curiosity. ¡°What are you smiling about, Miles?¡± ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± I said, half to myself. ¡°That¡¯s how we get in. It¡¯s perfect. Absolutely perfect.¡± ¡°What is perfect?¡± he asked credulously. ¡°The sex slave plan,¡± I said. ¡°We would be able to walk right to where they¡¯re keeping the girls, no suspicion, no trouble, easy. It¡¯s perfect.¡± Lot¡¯s face twisted in disgust. ¡°I told you, I am not going to help you sell some innocent soul into that life. If you go with that plan, I will have no part of it. Kill me, break my bones, light me on fire, I don¡¯t care. I won¡¯t do it.¡± ¡°Who said anything about an innocent soul?¡± I said. ¡°So that¡¯s it then? You plan on kidnapping a criminal?¡± He shook his head. ¡°I still refuse. Not even a murderer deserves that.¡± I laughed. ¡°You still don¡¯t see it, Lot. It¡¯s because you still haven¡¯t accepted that it possible, still haven¡¯t decided that we¡¯re going to do this. That¡¯s alright. I¡¯ll point it out to you.¡± Lot rolled his eyes. ¡°Please, illumine my understanding, my dear guest. How do you propose we get inside without kidnapping someone?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t need to kidnap anyone,¡± I said. ¡°Because we already have our sex slave. Me.¡± Chapter 76 - A Wolf in Womens Clothing I was absolutely surrounded by Kalamuzi. Lot and I walked down a broad avenue suspended in the air, Lot ahead, me behind with hands tied and eyes cast down, the new hood pulled up over my head. The disgusting mass of the Omphalos towered above us, an impossible beehive-structure constructed of gore and wood and stone that looked almost like a living thing, blood dripping here and there from the most recent additions. I had to keep telling myself I was imagining things whenever it seemed to breath. The Kalamuzi parted as Lot approached, split like water before the bow of a ship. They soon lined both sides, watching, snarling, panting. The ratmen stared at Lot more than at me, squeaking and chittering in that monstrous language of theirs, unintelligible nonsense. But still there was that feeling of being surrounded in enemy territory. My nerves were drawn like guitar strings about to break. At any moment they could sniff out our plan, attack, and overwhelm us within minutes. The only thing standing between a successful mission and a bloodbath was a few inches of padding and a makeshift wig. Lot had finally relented. I knew he would. Some people may think badly of me for admitting it, but I am long-trained in the subtle art of manipulation. I doubted that Lot had a spark, being not even fully human, and that made him more pliable in some ways, and more stubborn in others. But I¡¯d been trained in manipulating Tom, getting him to agree to things like letting me borrow his car, for instance - so I could copy the keys - so bending a Kalamuzi halfbreed to my will wasn¡¯t a problem. That is not to say that I didn¡¯t believe what I said to him. He was a coward for hiding in his hole, and this was his chance to avenge his mother. But I was also playing on his emotions to get what I wanted. I needed his help, and so I was going to get it. I had been preparing myself for other possibilities - from bribery and the promise of seeing the sun, to threatening his life, perhaps even torturing the information out of him - I guess I could thank Nolan for the inspiration on that one. Rest in piss. But that came with its own problems. Why wouldn¡¯t he just feed me bad information? I was happy it hadn¡¯t come to that. I was willing to do whatever it took - the longer I stayed in that dimension, the more I seemed to toss aside the societal and moral conventions of Earth - not that I¡¯d been a particularly conventional person before. But on the other hand, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a shocking thing to say that I didn¡¯t want to torture anyone. It was also fortunate because the final plan had no chance of succeeding without him. My hair had already been getting longer. I had been cutting it, when I could, with whatever sharpened blade was at hand, just to keep myself looking somewhat like Tom. Ever since entering the dungeon, however, it had become something of a losing battle. But it still wasn¡¯t long enough. Short-haired women existed, of course, but I didn¡¯t have feminine features to begin with, so I needed to use every trick I could. That involved some creativity on my part. Lot and I had wandered the trash piles, him complaining all the while about how stupid the plan was. Still, he stopped another runt from jumping me, and so it was already clear that we were partners. There were plenty of bodies down there, and Lot filled me in as to why. ¡°All shit rolls downhill,¡± he said with a wry smile. ¡°The tunnel you came from is not the only one to end at the pit. There are dozens of others, and the raiding parties, when they are too lazy to return to the Omphalos, simply go down one of those tunnels, and dump what they found on the surface into this pit. The tunnels reach out in all directions, you see, some stretching for miles before emptying out a Kalamuzi host unto some unsuspecting far-flung people. If they do not need anything at the Omphalos, it is easier to drop it down.¡± ¡°Even the slaves?¡± I asked. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be pretty stupid to kidnap someone only to kill them like that?¡± I was hoping Amaia and Naomi weren¡¯t in that corpse pile, somewhere. ¡°I hope you do not overestimate the intelligence of my brethren, Miles,¡± Lot said. He sighed. ¡°Yes, sometimes they even dump the slaves, the morons. Often that is done if they have already used them once on the return journey, and, having satiated their lusts, they don¡¯t see it being worth the rest of the walk. Heavens above, we are a dreadful race, aren¡¯t we? And you wish to go into the Omphalos?¡± I ignored the question, and continued searching. For as many bodies as there were, it took a long time to find a suitable one. ¡°Do the Kalamuzi come and collect what is dropped down?¡± I asked. ¡°Naturally,¡± Lot said. ¡°But they are lazy creatures, as I mentioned. They only come once every week or so. It¡¯s been four or five days since the last time, I believe, though I must admit I don¡¯t pay it much attention.¡± Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. I nodded. That was a relief, at least. Our chances were decent that we wouldn¡¯t run into a group of Kalamuzi. The body we eventually found had long, blond hair. Her head was intact - that was the problem with most of the others, skull split open like a watermelon. This woman - whoever she was - had been thrown down somewhat recently, it seemed. It wasn¡¯t anyone I knew, however. Perhaps another adventurer. We stood over her body. I nodded, knelt down, and got to work. ¡°This is ghastly, Miles,¡± Lot said. ¡°Is it really worth all of this? Just for our minuscule chance of success?¡± ¡°Always,¡± I said. I was using a knife that Lot had had stored in his home - it was sharper than anything I had on me. After some work, I stood, holding a headful of hair. ¡°Think it¡¯ll be enough?¡± I asked, looking at it sideways. ¡°Oh, I suppose it will,¡± Lot said reluctantly. ¡°But you aren¡¯t blond.¡± I shrugged. ¡°What does that matter? I will be soon.¡± Unfortunately, the rest of the body was mangled, such that the clothes were torn and unusable. We scavenged what we could from others, before heading back to the hideout to construct our disguise. On the way back, I witnessed a ¡°trash shower,¡± as Lot put it. A rush of unidentifiable junk falling suddenly from the darkness above, landing in a pile, spitting up bits of liquid around it. Luckily, it hadn¡¯t been near us. The whole thing seemed incredibly dangerous, though. ¡°You learn what spots to avoid, eventually,¡± Lot said. ¡°Well, or you don¡¯t, and you die.¡± Making the wig was difficult, but not impossible. When you try as often as I did to look like someone else, you pick up some disparate skills along the way. I worked on Lot¡¯s table, fire crackling behind me, as he paced around nervously. First, I took a leather cap we¡¯d found on a dead man on the way back. Using a sharp knife again, I cut away the flaps on the sides, cut away everything except a rounded piece of leather which would lay on my head. Then, I placed it on the table, and laid the blond hair over it. I made sure that a good deal of it would fall forward as well as back - that way, I could cover my face with my bangs a bit, which would help, I thought. Then - and this was the part I was most worried about - I used my nails as glue. I melted them over the center of the cap, letting the liquefied nails drip unto the hair and cap. Lot watched that part in amazement. When the nails dried, it was stuck to the cap. ¡°Perfect,¡± I said to myself, smiling. I placed the cap on my head, and looked at the result in a large half-broken mirror Lot had had hidden underneath some junk. Didn¡¯t like to look at himself, he said. If you looked closely - not even that closely, honestly - you could see that something was wrong. All you had to do was look at my scalp. But I wasn¡¯t looking for the Kalamuzi to give me a haircut. It should work, I thought. Of course, as it was, it was liable to simply slide off. So, I took it off, placed it back on the table, and cut little slices in the cap. Then, putting it back on my head, I fed my own hair through the slits - which was terrible. But I did it, and then ¡°nailed¡± my hair in place as well. I whipped my head back and forth as a test, and it held. It would be a bitch to get off later, but that was a problem I could afford to put off. My hair didn¡¯t match, so now it looked not only like I had spilled some sort of liquid resin in my hair, but also like I had dyed my hair blond in the past, and my roots were starting to come back in my natural color. Still, I figured it would be good enough to fool a rat. The other parts were easy - putting on the dirty dress of some dead peasant woman, throwing a hood half-over my dirty wig to hide the glue spot - but letting the blond hair fall out of it, of course - stuffing the dress in the appropriate places, and practicing a falsetto I hoped I wouldn¡¯t have to use. But there was one last touch. The peasant¡¯s dress didn¡¯t fully cover the arms or legs, and what bits peaked through were covered in hair - more hair than a woman would have, even in a medieval time period when they probably didn¡¯t shave. So that would have to be fixed. The process was simple, and took only an old pewter jug and some nails. I melted and poured the nails into the jug, let them cool just enough - too much and it wouldn¡¯t work - before then pouring the liquid unto my arms and legs. It was quite uncomfortable, but it got worse. I let the nails cool. Then, having stuck a leather strap in my mouth in anticipation of the pain, I ripped them off. Lot couldn¡¯t watch, had to step outside while I did it. ¡°Mmhhm!¡± I exclaimed as the hair was torn out. It hurt worse than I had expected. It stung. I had to do the same thing for the top of my chest, just under my throat, and it was just as painful. But the result, afterwards, was perfect. Every part of me you could see was perfectly smooth. I examined myself in the mirror again. I called for Lot to come back in and look at the result. He¡¯d been just outside, so he was back in only a moment. I looked like a mannish, disheveled, dirty, flat-chested woman - the dress we had hadn¡¯t allowed much padding in the front without it being obvious - with a fat butt and big feet. ¡°How do I look?¡± I asked aloud. ¡°You look ridiculous,¡± Lot said. ¡°You look like a man in a dress, and any reasonable person could see that.¡± I smiled. ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°I look like Tom in a dress. God, I can¡¯t wait to punch his fucking lights out.¡± ¡°Who?¡± Lot asked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± I replied. ¡°And anyway, it doesn¡¯t matter if a reasonable person could see through it. The question is, could a Kalamuzi?¡± Lot sighed. ¡°Unfortunately, I think it might just work.¡± ¡°Hey RENA,¡± I said aloud. ¡°You around? What do you think?¡± I turned to Lot¡¯s confused face. ¡°That¡¯s the name of my goddess,¡± I said. He looked even more confused. ¡°Unfortunately, Miles,¡± RENA¡¯s voice piped in, ¡°My analysis of the matter leads me to a conclusion that you have forbidden me from expressing.¡± I sighed. ¡°Therapy?¡± ¡°That is correct, Miles.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Never mind that. How much time do I have until the debt is due?¡± ¡°Three days, Miles.¡± It was about as bad as I¡¯d expected. That¡¯s why I hadn¡¯t talked to RENA, recently. I hadn¡¯t wanted to know. ¡°Alright, RENA, then be ready,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll be sending you a lot soon, and I want you to be prepared to take it, quickly.¡± ¡°Absolutely, Miles. On behalf of Dimen-X, I¡¯d like to say we appreciate your support and look forward to your contribution.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be happy when it¡¯s all paid off¡­¡± I said under my breath. I didn¡¯t even want to think about the fact that next month¡¯s payment might be even higher. At least they couldn¡¯t change the amount I owed. They could just force me to pay it quicker. Which they were already doing. I didn¡¯t understand it all, exactly, but it was something like that Dimen-X, in order to pay off the loans in my behalf, had actually bought out the loans. For the control, I was sure. They¡¯ll get their pound of flesh, I thought later, as I was walking down the Kalamuzi pathway, dressed in women¡¯s clothing in a way that I hoped was convincing. I was thinking about Dimen-X in an attempt to keep my mind off the danger on all sides. I was trying even harder not to remember how the Kalamuzi took their more literal pound of flesh from Naomi¡¯s companions. Dimen-X was just like them, in a way. They¡¯d strip down everything they could from me, squeeze out every last dollar they could. When it was time for me to get home, I was certain they would offer me a high salary to keep working in that dimension. Maybe I¡¯d do it. Or maybe I¡¯d tell them to shove it up their ass. ¡°Screeee!¡± A piercing shriek sounded from behind us, and a chill ran down my spine. ¡°Stop right there!¡± Chapter 77 - The Return of the King The rope tied around my wrists tugged at me as Lot signaled that we were stopping. What the hell is he doing? I wondered to myself. I kept my eyes cast down as the owner of the voice approached. I tried to will myself into invisibility, hoped that he would ignore me. I could see his bare feet - paws? - as he walked by. They were hairy and bestial, but also pale, half-human. A Talker. Suddenly my ears were berated by the grating noise of Kalamuzi speech. Why it had chosen to use English when it first called out was beyond me - now it spoke in the customary squeaks of the ratmen. It was unintelligible, of course, but I could tell that it was coming from the rat who had just approached us, and I thought it sounded accusatory - though I could have been imagining it, hallucinating emotion into creatures without any feeling whatsoever. The other rats around us were snickering to themselves like schoolgirls, laughing at some joke I didn¡¯t get. I hoped that it wouldn¡¯t take long. We were betting on the stupidity of the Kalamuzi, but Talkers were harder to predict, naturally. I wasn¡¯t sure if the disguise would hold up long under scrutiny. I wanted to simply kill them all, but it took surprisingly little of my willpower to hold myself back. Maybe that was just self-preservation, being woefully outnumbered, but I thought that it was more than that. It was a sign of the change I had made, the subtle shift from anger to hatred. Anger is quick. Hate is slow. Hate is patient. Hate can wait. Lot responded, his answer equally meaningless to me, though it sounded a little softer and more dignified - if anything said in the disgusting language can be called ¡°dignified.¡± They talked back and forth for awhile like that, and I could do nothing but keep my head down and wait. If this was going to end in my being discovered, then I would go down swinging. My nerves were drawn taut like wire. Then the Kalamuzi who had stopped us laughed, and said something mocking. Then he approached me, stepped closer, and before I had the chance to even think to react, one of his cold hands had grabbed at my chin. I cried out, but no sound came out, only air - luckily. I had stifled the cry in time. He yanked my head up, his claws poking my cheek, and it was a miracle that the hood didn¡¯t fall off of my head. Perhaps the rat was so stupid he still wouldn¡¯t have realized I was wearing a wig, but I was happy not to have to test it. He tried to look at me with those dead fish eyes, but I didn¡¯t make eye contact. It was instinct more than anything, because it wasn¡¯t as if my eyes would have given me away. Or maybe they would have. My weapons were hidden among the rags - other than the staff, which Lot was using as a walking stick. I thought only of how quickly I could grab them, if I needed to. Would it be quick enough? No, I thought. Stay still. Wait. Your time will come. Be patient. ¡°Ugly,¡± the Kalamuzi said finally, in clear English. Relief. So far, so good, I thought. But it wasn¡¯t over yet. ¡°Now look who¡¯s using human speech,¡± Lot said. ¡°Are you a hypocrite as well as a fool, Kripresisic?¡± Now that my head was raised, I could see them both clearly. The difference between them was striking - it made Lot look more human than before, by comparison. He stood by as the Talker - Kripresisic - held my jaw, but it was clear that worry hung heavy on his brow. Maybe I was the only one who noticed - who knew if the rats could read body language. ¡°The girl would not hear me if I didn¡¯t,¡± he responded. Then he turned to Lot, and hissed. ¡°Watch yourself. You are not who you were, Lotsqueekinerik. Be careful who you anger.¡± ¡°Thank you for the advice, old friend,¡± Lot responded, bowing, voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°Now, will you let us pass? I am quite busy.¡± Kripresisic turned back to me. I could feel his eyes run over me, and I tried hard to have no visible reaction even as my skin crawled. He sniffed the air. ¡°Ugly,¡± he said again. ¡°Dirty. Smelly. Maybe we should simply eat her.¡± He drew back his lips into a hungry snarl. Stolen story; please report. Lot¡¯s eyes widened for a moment before calm returned. ¡°You would deprive the Omphalos of a breeder?¡± Lot responded, taking a step forward. ¡°And yet you accuse me of being a traitor. Perhaps you are the one who ought to watch himself, hmm?¡± More snickering noises from the rats. Some of them had gotten closer, forming a ring around us three. I felt claustrophobic. Kripresisic tightened his grip on my face, and I winced as his claws began to dig in, felt as the blood was drawn and ran down my face. But I held out, didn¡¯t say a word, didn¡¯t react. I had been Tom, before. I could be a poor slave woman, frozen in fear. ¡°She did not even scream,¡± Kripresisic said. ¡°What good is a girl that doesn¡¯t scream?¡± He turned to me again. ¡°Speak.¡± I still didn¡¯t meet his gaze, but I felt spittle land on me. Shit. What was I supposed to do? Speak with a falsetto? The Kalamuzzi were dumb, but were they that dumb? ¡°She is mute,¡± Lot said, and for not the first time I had to stop myself from sighing in relief. ¡°She cannot speak. You are wasting your breath as usual.¡± Kripresisic¡¯s face twitched at this. Lot seemed to know exactly what buttons to press to anger the rat - though I had no idea why he felt the need to. I wished he would just focus on getting out of there. ¡°Do not think this girl-¡± Kripresisic drew out the word with disgust - ¡°makes you whole, Lotsqueekinerik. You are still more man than Kalamuzi.¡± ¡°And you are still more bark than bite.¡± ¡°What gives you the right-¡° ¡°Blah blah blah,¡± Lot interrupted. ¡°It¡¯s all so tiresome. If you were going to fight me, you would have snuck up on me and slit my throat like the coward you are. I¡¯m tired of this drama. Unhand my slave.¡± Kripresisic shook with anger, but it seemed Lot had called his bluff. He let go of me, and I quickly turned my face down again. ¡°Take her,¡± he said, full of vitriol. ¡°Only don¡¯t get so attached to this one.¡± He raised his voice, as if he wanted the crowd to hear. Could the regular Kalamuzi understand? ¡°She¡¯ll be dead before long, just like that whore you called ¡®mother.¡¯ Traitorous-¡± But Kripresisic was cut off before he could mutter another insult. The fat end of Naomi¡¯s staff crashed into his long nose, a deep crunch resounding as it struck. He crumpled to the floor in a pile, and the crowd exploded into a deafening roar of squeaks and hollers. But no one approached. Lot stood over the ratman, staff pointed down. I could see them both out of the corner of my eye if I just lifted my head the smallest bit. ¡°Say it again,¡± Lot said. Kripresisic was on his back, but he raised his head again defiantly, wiping blood from his nose. ¡°You would attack me for a human?¡± he asked. He raised his voice. ¡°He would attack me for a human! We can all see he is a traitor, can¡¯t we? He turns against his own. He disrespects Olsgolon.¡± Then he shouted again, this time in the Kalamuzi tongue, presumably repeating what he had just said in English. ¡°I told you to say it again,¡± Lot responded. ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear me?¡± ¡°You won¡¯t even challenge me?¡± Kripresisic asked. ¡°You disgrace us all.¡± More roaring from the crowd. ¡°Duels are to be had between equals,¡± Lot said. ¡°We are not equals. You are an animal.¡± ¡°I am a Kalamuzi!¡± Kripresisic shouted, and the crowd shouted with him. ¡°What are you?¡± ¡°Your king.¡± I heard as he brought the staff down on the Kalamuzi again. Kripresisic held up his hands to block, but that only earned him a few broken fingers. Lot struck again and again, and Naomi¡¯s staff was stained with blood by the end of it. The crowd¡¯s fervor reached a fever pitch, but no one intervened. If anything, they seemed satisfied by the violence, like the people who go to races just hoping to see a crash. Eventually, Lot grabbed the rope again, and yanked at me. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he said. Stealing a glance, I couldn¡¯t tell if Kripresisic had been beaten to death, or only half-way there. But he was left on the floor in a bloody and broken pile. Lot led the way further up the suspended walkway, past the crowd which closed in around the fallen ratman. The Kalamuzi parted as Lot approached - out of respect, or fear, or both. ¡°I might have lost a duel,¡± Lot whispered under his breath as we went. ¡°If we¡¯d had one. But he didn¡¯t expect me to actually strike him. I was much more - pacifistic, before.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t say?¡± I responded, as quietly as I could. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Lot said. ¡°He¡¯s alive. I haven¡¯t lost my head. The Kalamuzi respect violence over most things. If I wanted to, I likely could be their king, now. After beating up a few more Talkers, of course.¡± ¡°Whatever you say, King Lot.¡± I was just happy the plan was working, and that we were still alive. He chuckled. I followed him into the Omphalos, feeling ecstatic about our progress despite the cuts on my face. Running into a Talker was the biggest possible hiccup in the plan - with that done, it should have been smooth sailing from that point. Get to where the girls were, break them out, and leave. I was actually doing it. I couldn¡¯t see much beyond the edge of my hood, keeping my eyes focused squarely on my feet, but even the ground beneath me changed as we entered. The floor became darker, and it was soft like flesh in some places, and hard like bone in others. The atmosphere changed as well - it was more humid, the air stinging my nostrils, the smell like rot. It felt like I had stepped into the belly of some leviathan. I followed Lot¡¯s lead, anxious to look up and see what surrounded me, wanting to check and make sure that there weren¡¯t teeth around the mouth of the entrance. Then again, knowing what I did of Kalamuzi building techniques, perhaps there really would have been teeth there. Another part of me, of course, was happy that I had a reason not to look. It was difficult to keep any sort of time like that, but after what felt like ages, myself only vaguely aware of entering and leaving rooms, Lot stopped. ¡°Lotsqueekinerik,¡± a new voice said, though not too different from the last one. If the Kalamuzi were people, I might have been called racist for thinking they all sounded the same, I mused. Luckily, they weren¡¯t people. But then again, who was? Not those drones walking around back on Earth, that¡¯s for sure. ¡°It is I,¡± Lot replied. ¡°I bring a slave.¡± The new voice let out a high laugh. ¡°Never thought I¡¯d see the day. Guess you came to your senses, aye?¡± ¡°Something like that.¡± ¡°Well, you know the drill. Gotta give her the drink. Especially since you kept her awake.¡± ¡°I can handle that,¡± Lot replied. ¡°No,¡± the voice said. ¡°You cannot.¡± The room descended into silence. I heard the guard - I assumed it was a guard, a Talker - fidgeting, tapping his foot nervously. ¡°Don¡¯t jeer at me like that,¡± the voice said. ¡°Rules are rules. If you¡¯re not going to follow them, then why the hell did you come back?¡± This could be a problem, I thought. Lot had told me about the drink they gave prisoners, the one that sapped them of their mana. Obviously, I wanted to avoid drinking at all costs. We had planned to have Lot volunteer to give it to me, and then secretly not drink it. I even had an empty bottle stashed in my rags that we would pour it in. But if the guard gave it to me¡­ ¡°Fine,¡± Lot said. I shifted under my rags. You better have a plan, I thought. Chapter 78 - Infiltration I coughed in a way that I hoped wasn¡¯t conspicuous, trying to draw Lot¡¯s attention to the fact that I could NOT drink that potion. As weak as my magic was, there was a world of difference between having it, and not, and I wasn¡¯t about to give it up. I¡¯d rather kill the guard than do that. It seemed Lot was past his ¡°pacifistic¡± stage, so I hoped he¡¯d get a clue quickly. There wasn¡¯t much I could do with my hands tied, not without giving it all away. Which I was very close to doing. ¡°I suppose it can¡¯t be helped,¡± Lot said aloud, seemingly to the guard. ¡°It¡¯s either that, or she doesn¡¯t get in, right?¡± A screech of agreement came from another direction, and I was suddenly aware that there were at least two Kalamuzi in that room. The other one didn¡¯t sound like a Talker, but it was hard to tell. ¡°Can¡¯t exactly have a witch in there, can we?¡± The first Kalamuzi said. I coughed again. Loudly. ¡°It¡¯s unfortunate,¡± Lot said. ¡°I wanted to give it to her myself. I guess plans change, huh?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± the guard said. ¡°Yeah, whatever.¡± I could hear the voice change as the guard must have turned his head. ¡°Hand me that vial.¡± What else could I do? I debated running, tackling someone, anything - but in the meantime, I just coughed. ¡°She¡¯s not going to last long, is she?¡± the guard said, and I could hear his voice coming closer. ¡°Already sick, sounds like.¡± ¡°She¡¯ll be fine,¡± Lot said. ¡°Sick or not.¡± I hacked and coughed like I was dying. I tugged on the rope that Lot held in his hands. Fucking idiot, I thought. Untie me and let¡¯s just kill these pieces of shit. You¡¯re worried about fucking Kalamuzi casualties? Really? I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re a quarter rat, get your head out of your ass and untie me! I wished I could shout that all out at him, but I was still holding out some hope that Lot had a plan. It was much harder to accept that I¡¯d chosen my companion so badly. ¡°Better get her bred quick,¡± the other guard said. ¡°You can say what you like, but I¡¯ve seen enough prisoners to know when one hasn¡¯t got much left in her. We¡¯ll be lucky to get a litter out of her.¡± ¡°It will all work out,¡± Lot said. ¡°Trust me.¡± I didn¡¯t. Fuck. Think, Miles. You¡¯ve teamed up with another fucking worthless partner. Think. There¡¯s gotta be a way out of this. I thought there might just be a way, but my time was cut short. For the second time that day my jaw was clasped by a cold, boney hand. ¡°Just keep still, alright?¡± The Kalamuzi said, staring at me with two black voids. ¡°Don¡¯t move and we won¡¯t have to make this difficult.¡± The vial was between my lips in an instant, and before I could react, the liquid was running down my throat. I nearly choked, but the ratman held me still and kept pouring. The liquid seared and stung, the taste and feeling a horrible combination of alcohol, mint, and ice. ¡°There,¡± the guard said, releasing me. My eyes were watering. ¡°Now we can take her in. You get first go at her, of course, so just come back when it¡¯s time, yeah?¡± I was coughing for real now, cold burns irritating my throat. But I still heard what the guard had said. Lot spoke up. ¡°I¡¯d like to take her in, myself, thank you.¡± ¡°What the hell for?¡± the guard said. ¡°You aren¡¯t breeding her right now, are you?¡± Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Lot snorted. ¡°Perhaps I am. A gentleman doesn¡¯t tell, does he?¡± The guard laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t give me that. If you were ready to go, you¡¯d have had her already. You just want to see the other girls, is that it?¡± ¡°No, I just-¡° ¡°Yeah yeah, save it. I¡¯m a Talker too, alright. I get it. But rules are rules.¡± He lowered his voice. ¡°Tell you what. Come back when it¡¯s time, and I¡¯ll let you get a go at one of the others, too. A favor, yeah?¡± I was near panicked by this point. The plan was falling apart. I could still salvage it, but not if Lot abandoned me with the guards, still tied up. They find the weapons on me, find out that I was a man. I had terrible visions of what would happen to me then. Death, surely. Right on the doorstep of success. I prepared myself to charge. I¡¯d have to be quick. Look up, pick a target, and run. I¡¯d only have a second. If I headbutted one of the guards, Lot would have no choice but to fight with me. I hoped. Lot sighed. ¡°You really can¡¯t let me in?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no way I could convince you?¡± ¡°Come off it, Lotsqueekinerik. I¡¯m not bending the rules for you just because you¡¯re back.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯m sorry it came to this.¡± Lot said. ¡°For the record, I did everything I could to avoid it. Vengeance is one thing, but I¡¯m not an animal.¡± I couldn¡¯t see what was happening since my eyes were still cast down on the floor, but it was only a moment before that changed. A knife came into my vision - a sharp, curved knife - and then the rope binding my hands was cut, and I was free. ¡°What the hell are you doing!¡± one of the ratmen shouted, and the other screeched something in Kalamuzi. I turned my head up, and I¡¯m certain I was smiling. I threw back my hood. We were in a small room, a guard station, clearly. The walls were made of solid gore, and behind the two Kalamuzi guards - clad in scraps of armor and with a sword each - was a door that seemed to be made of bone. The bones were like bars, such that I could see through the gaps into the darkness beyond - but besides darkness, I couldn¡¯t make out anything. Lot had said he remembered a long hallway after the guard station, but beyond that, the girls. They had to be in there. I was so very close. The room we were in was mostly empty, lit by sawed-off segments of that reddish root I¡¯d seen elsewhere in the dungeon. It seemed to emanate light even when it was dead. There were a couple of bedrolls, a table, and a couple of chairs. There was some shelving with strange vials of various liquids, and some disturbing food on the table I didn¡¯t want to look at. That was about it. I tried to feel those invisible strings connecting my mana pool to my nails - still in my pockets, of course, beneath the dress. I could feel them still, thankfully, but they felt ragged, like strings getting ready to fray or split. I didn¡¯t have much time. ¡°Cover me!¡± I yelled at Lot, and he looked at me with a confused look on his face. The guards were scrambling to get their weapons out. ¡°Just do it, fucking idiot,¡± I said. I muttered under my breath, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have to do this if it wasn¡¯t for you.¡± I hurried to a corner of the room - vaguely behind where Lot stood, Naomi¡¯s staff in one hand, knife in the other - and put my back against it. Then I stuck my finger down my throat. It was far from the first time I made myself vomit - after all, keeping myself at exactly Tom¡¯s weight wasn¡¯t something that happened on its own. If the situation wasn¡¯t so serious, I could have laughed at how I probably looked just then - a bulimic woman with a man¡¯s face, purging her lunch and trying not to get it on her already-filthy dress. Instead, I could only look in horror at the strange metallic liquid that flowed back out of me. It was like chrome, or¡­ ¡°Did you fuckers make me drink mercury?¡± I yelled. ¡°Fuck. Seriously? No wonder your slaves all die, you idiots.¡± The guards ignored what I was saying, slowly spreading out so that they could attack Lot from either side. ¡°They always said you were a traitor,¡± one of them said. ¡°Guess they were right.¡± ¡°A traitor to what?¡± Lot said, teeth barred. He gestured to the surroundings. ¡°To this? Both of you, you¡¯re half human, yes? Who are you betraying, then? If I betray the Omphalos, don¡¯t you betray the surface?¡± ¡°We are Kalamuzi!¡± one of them said. ¡°And so are you, traitor.¡± ¡°Perhaps.¡± I charged. My drows was in one hand, and I yelled wordlessly. With a thought, the weapon ignited into flame - I¡¯d prepared that before we left, of course. The Kalamuzi recoiled at the sight, but the one I approached still managed to hold its sword above its head before I crushed it. The drows clanged against the dull steel. Lot took his opportunity. He leapt on the other Kalamuzi, knife slicing through the air almost faster than I could track it. For someone who didn¡¯t like to fight, he was skilled. The Kalamuzi tried to block, but it was no use. Within moments, the skin of Lot¡¯s opponent was criss-crossed with shallow wounds. The ratman was forced further and further back, until finally it found itself with its back against the wall. I swung wildly at my own opponent, vaguely aware that my movements were less graceful than my partner¡¯s. But I made up for grace with fervor. My strikes were relentless, each one threatening to tear the sword loose from my opponent¡¯s grasp. The flames had already burnt out - it was little more than a distraction - but I had no shortage of nails. I took a handful out of my pocket and tossed them into the ratman¡¯s face. When they ignited, the Kalamuzi screamed in equal parts pain and terror, but the sound was cut short as my drows split its skull wide open. That never got old. I turned to my partner. Lot stood over a bloody corpse, his weapons discarded on the ground beside him. He was staring at his own hands like he didn¡¯t recognize them. ¡°You okay?¡± I asked. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Fuck,¡± I said. ¡°You injured?¡± He shook his head. ¡°It isn¡¯t that.¡± ¡°Then what? They didn¡¯t coat their blades in poison or something, did they?¡± ¡°I-¡° he stammered. ¡°Never mind. I¡¯m fine.¡± I scoffed. ¡°You sure?¡± I walked over to his side, picked up Naomi¡¯s staff from where it lay on the ground. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°I am unharmed.¡± ¡°Good,¡± I said, and I whacked him over the head with the staff. ¡°Hey!¡± he yelled, recoiling. ¡°What was the plan, huh?¡± I said. ¡°Just hope we could do this without magic?¡± ¡°No need to resort to violence,¡± he said, rubbing his head. ¡°I was just trying to avoid a fight.¡± ¡°Well cut it out,¡± I said. ¡°Getting into fights is what we¡¯re doing, alright? There¡¯s going to be a lot more fights on the way out.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Lot said. ¡°If the plan works-¡° ¡°The plan won¡¯t work,¡± I said. ¡°It hasn¡¯t worked so far, has it? No plan ever works. Not for me. Get used to it.¡± I shook my head. ¡°But I made it work.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand you, Miles.¡± ¡°Sure you do,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m a very simple person. Come on. Let¡¯s get the girls and get out of here.¡± While Lot collected himself, I tried the door. It was locked, naturally, but it was easy enough to find a key on one of the fallen guards. While I was at is, I tossed Lot a couple of those potions, as well. He had my backpack, and I figured the potions might come in handy in the future. You never know. Lot was ready by the time I was entering the darkened hall. I grabbed a root from the guard room and took it with me. The light was faint, but I could just make out the way down a long, featureless corridor. ¡°Amaia!¡± I yelled. ¡°Naomi! It¡¯s me!¡± There was no answer. I rushed forward into the darkness. Chapter 79 - The Prison I ran, trying not to trip over the dress, pushing the long hair out of my face, some part of me feeling like I was racing against the clock even though, logically, I knew that we¡¯d already won. We¡¯d be in the prison in a second, we¡¯d get the girls, and then we¡¯d leave. I knew that leaving was easier said than done, even with Lot as a disguise - why the hell would a Kalamuzi be taking a prisoner out? - but we¡¯d manage. We¡¯d have to regroup and figure things out from there - how we would find Cadoc was the first question, naturally - but we¡¯d be a team again. Maybe we could even relax somewhat, strategize, take a fucking breather - even though the nap in the cursed spring was so recent, it felt more like a waking dream, like I hadn¡¯t had a real chance to rest in months. There was still the debt, but I pushed those thoughts aside. The longer I stayed in that world, the more my old life felt like the fantasy. The debt didn¡¯t feel real. We¡¯d figure out how to pay it later, as a team. Don¡¯t worry about it, a familiar voice said, the same voice that had me ordering philly cheesesteaks all that time back. It¡¯ll work itself out. The hall was dark, a tunnel of detritus embedded in flesh. Again I had to ignore the throbbing of the walls around me, which I was almost certain was a trick of my exhausted mind. Lot was just behind me as I ran, and soon we were throwing open another barred door made of bone. I thought absently about how inconvenient a material that was - even if Amaia had her mana, she could only bend metal, not bone. ¡°Amaia!¡± I yelled again. ¡°Naomi!¡± Again there was no answer. The room had no lights, and even holding the root it was hard to make out the vague shadows of the interior. There were clearly people in there, and they shrunk away from my voice as we came in. I couldn¡¯t tell how many there were, but not a lot. ¡°It¡¯s me,¡± I said, running frantically towards the nearest shadow, avoiding unidentified bits of debris that littered the floor. The shadow fled, but there was nowhere to go - soon I had cornered it. ¡°It¡¯s me,¡± I said again, and I came close enough for the root in my hand to peel back the veil of darkness, revealing - someone else. Someone I didn¡¯t know. A thin, frail looking woman, young and shivering, dressed in scraps of rags that hid nothing of her wasting frame. She looked up at me with fear in her eyes, confused. ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked, almost angry that it wasn¡¯t Amaia or Naomi, despite the ridiculousness of being mad at that poor prisoner. ¡°Are-¡± she started. ¡°Are you human?¡± I grabbed her, half-afraid she would run from me again, and it felt like if I tightened my grip, she would break. ¡°I¡¯m looking for two women,¡± I said. ¡°They both had to have come here recently. One of them is tall, quiet, mannish, the other one is short and tanned. Have you seen them?¡± The woman only looked at me. Then she started to cry. She was worthless. I threw her aside. A bad feeling was starting to grow in my mind. I ran to the next shadow, finding it to be another half-skeleton covered in filth. ¡°Did you see them?¡± I asked, grabbing that woman as well, shaking her. ¡°Did you see them?¡± This one seemed more composed, luckily. ¡°I- yes. I saw them. They haven¡¯t been here long.¡± She looked up at me. ¡°Are you going to get us out of here?¡± ¡°Where are they? They¡¯re here, right? Are they OK? They¡¯re alive, right? Uninjured?¡± The woman opened her mouth again to speak, but before the words got out, her lips twisted into a blood-curdling scream. She pointed, and I followed the direction, looking behind me and expecting that some rat had noticed the dead guards already and come to investigate. Instead, I only saw Lot, standing some distance behind me, his hands up in a universal gesture of meaning no harm. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about him,¡± I said, turning back to the woman. ¡°I know how he looks, but he¡¯s a friend.¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. The woman stopped screaming, but her eyes were still wide, and she shook like she was having some sort of attack. ¡°Listen!¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m looking for my friends. You saw them, right? Where are they?¡± A third voice came from the darkness - I couldn¡¯t see its owner. ¡°They¡¯re gone,¡± it said. ¡°You¡¯ve only just missed them.¡± ¡°What?¡± I pushed the frightened woman aside, turned to the new voice. She didn¡¯t try to flee. I scrambled to her, finding her looking half-dead, but still much more alive that the rest of them, despite probably being the oldest of the bunch. Middle-aged, by the look of it. ¡°What do you mean, gone?¡± The woman looked at me sideways. ¡°Are you in a dress?¡± she asked. ¡°You¡¯re definitely a man. Did you¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that!¡± I said. ¡°Where are my friends? You have to tell me.¡± ¡°Did you kill the guards? How do you expect to get out? Do you have magic?¡± ¡°Can you fucking listen to me?¡± I yelled. ¡°Where are they?¡± ¡°They¡¯re dead,¡± the woman said, the same intonation I¡¯d imagine someone using to say that the weather was bad today. ¡°Or close to. I¡¯m sorry.¡± The words were just noises. They didn¡¯t mean anything. I got in her face. ¡°Just tell me where they are, or you¡¯re going to wish that I hadn¡¯t killed the guards, you understand?¡± I didn¡¯t know why I was resorting to threats, but I didn¡¯t owe that woman anything. In fact, she had a chance to get out now, because of me. She owed me. ¡°They took them,¡± she said. ¡°It happens sometimes. I couldn¡¯t tell you what they do with them, only that they don¡¯t come back.¡± I turned back to Lot. ¡°Do you know what she¡¯s talking about?¡± Lot stepped forward, and I could hear the woman inhale quickly as he came into view. But she didn¡¯t scream, at least. Lot clearly wasn¡¯t about to attack anyone. ¡°Sacrifice,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Miles.¡± ¡°Sacrifice to what? They haven¡¯t been killed yet, right? Let¡¯s go get them.¡± ¡°Sacrificed to Olsgolon,¡± he said. ¡°They take the best of their spoils to be sacrificed in a sign of homage. That includes the slaves. I apologize for being so blunt, Miles, but were your friends particularly attractive?¡± The question took me by surprise. ¡°One was,¡± I said. ¡°But not the other.¡± ¡°The tall one?¡± the woman interjected. ¡°I think they just wanted to get rid of her because she made too much trouble. There wasn¡¯t a waking hour that she wasn¡¯t trying to get out.¡± ¡°How long ago did they leave?¡± I asked. The woman shrugged. ¡°A few hours, probably.¡± I turned to Lot again. The question didn¡¯t even need to be asked. ¡°Probably,¡± Lot said. ¡°There¡¯s a whole disgusting ritual, I don¡¯t know how long it takes exactly but it isn¡¯t brief. It is possible they are alive.¡± ¡°Perfect,¡± I said, reinvigorated. ¡°Then we keep pushing. What are we up against? But let¡¯s get moving, first. Walk and talk. No time to lose.¡± ¡°But Miles, I-¡± Lot didn¡¯t finish his thought, tried again. ¡°What about these women?¡± The middle-aged woman cleared her throat. ¡°They, I-¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say. I knew what I couldn¡¯t say. I couldn¡¯t say that I didn¡¯t fucking care what happened to those women, that even in the space of ten seconds I could tell that they were sparkless NPCs, that their lives were meaningless to me, meaningless to the world at large, in fact, that every second we spent talking about them was precious time we could spend saving some people who actually mattered. I couldn¡¯t say any of that. ¡°What do you propose?¡± is what I finally said. ¡°We take them,¡± he said. ¡°And we leave. We simply leave, Miles. I¡¯m deeply sorry about your friends, but there¡¯s nothing we can do for them, now. We ought to save what few lives we can.¡± ¡°You know I won¡¯t do that.¡± Lot sighed. ¡°I do. But I had to suggest it all the same. In that case, I propose that we make our way to the core, and then split up. There¡¯s a fork there, just before the inner chamber. I can take the women to safety, and you can-¡° ¡°Did you say the core?¡± I asked. ¡°Why are we going there? I thought we were going to destroy it after we saved everyone. We need to get to Olsgolon. Is Olsgolon by the core?¡± Lot looked at me sideways. ¡°Miles, Olsgolon is the core.¡± How did you not figure that out already, Miles? Tom would have figured it out. No. Shut up. I¡¯ve got more important things to do than argue with you. Leave me alone. Besides, I had guessed it, I just hadn¡¯t¡­ I¡¯m not justifying myself to you. Fuck off. ¡°Miles?¡± Lot asked, staring. I blinked the voices away. ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°Duh. That¡¯s perfect. We can kill two birds with one stone. If anything, it¡¯s good news, I guess.¡± ¡°Two birds with one stone?¡± Lot repeated. ¡°Is that a saying on the surface?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s uh¡­ it¡¯s a saying where I come from. I can tell you later.¡± Lot muttered under his breath, ¡°Sounds almost like a saying the Kalamuzi would come up with. Violent.¡± ¡°Well,¡± I said, raising my voice. ¡°You heard the man! Let¡¯s get going. We¡¯re busting you all out of here. Hurry the hell up before we change our minds.¡± While the women - there were only three after all - began their hurried scramble towards us, Lot turned to me again. They stayed a ways away from him, of course. ¡°Do you have a plan for getting there?¡± Lot asked. ¡°I don¡¯t even know where ¡®there¡¯ is,¡± I said. ¡°But I¡¯m starting to realize something, Lot. You can get pretty damn far in life if you can just keep your momentum going. So, like I said, walk and talk.¡± The women fell in behind us, and I was thankful that there wasn¡¯t any pushback from them. I wouldn¡¯t have had the patience for it. Maybe they had been broken, like a horse, and they were used to being ordered around. Or maybe they were desperate enough to take any possible help they could. It really didn¡¯t matter to me, so I stopped thinking about it. For the rest of the trip to the core, I¡¯d sometimes forgot they were there at all. I didn¡¯t give myself time to think, only time for action. That was on purpose. ¡°You know the way, right?¡± I asked as we retraced our path through the hallway. ¡°Naturally,¡± Lot said. ¡°But I don¡¯t believe your crossdressing disguise is going to work this time, Miles. We need another way.¡± ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°We just pretend that you¡¯re taking us all to be sacrificed. Simple.¡± Lot shook his head. ¡°Maybe those other women, but you¡­¡± He laughed. ¡°I do not mean to be rude, but you make for a very ugly woman. No one would believe I was sacrificing you.¡± I wanted to protest and say that Amaia wasn¡¯t super attractive, either, but I thought better of it. Was I really going to argue that I made for a more attractive woman that Amaia? For one thing, it just wasn¡¯t true. Amaia was a bit plain, but she wasn¡¯t ugly. There was a big difference between being mannish and being a man. ¡°We just need another disguise, then,¡± I said. ¡°Easy-peasy.¡± Lot scoffed. ¡°You have a Kalamuzi costume underneath that dress?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°But I think I know where to get one. Come one, I just had an idea.¡± Chapter 80 - Kalamuzi Castration Back in the guard station. One of the women gasped at the sight of the corpses, but I was sure there was no love lost. The middle-aged one might have even chuckled, I thought. The room smelled like vomit and blood. Both were my fault, I supposed. I approached one of the dead Kalamuzi. The one that wasn¡¯t a Talker. I didn¡¯t want to step into that moral dilemma. ¡°Hand me your knife,¡± I said to Lot, holding out my hand. He was behind me, so I didn¡¯t see the expression he made, but he hesitated. ¡°What are you going to do, Miles?¡± It almost sounded like fear in his voice, which made me want to laugh. ¡°I¡¯m going to make a disguise, what else? Hurry up and hand me the knife, unless you think you could do it faster.¡± He probably could, but he didn¡¯t volunteer. I supposed I could understand why. I could practically hear him shudder, could feel it in the atmosphere around us, but he handed me the knife. ¡°Ladies,¡± he said. ¡°I suggest you look away. I believe my companion is about to make a mess, and if my guess is correct, it¡¯s going to be quite grotesque.¡± I didn¡¯t wait for their go-ahead. I began cutting, happy to find the blade sharp, reminding myself all the while that there wasn¡¯t anything weird about it, that it was completely normal. It was like skinning a deer, or a rabbit, or a fox. An animal. Just an animal. People do it all the time. This is good, actually, I thought to myself. I¡¯m like one of the native Americans, using every part of the buffalo. It would be a waste to just leave it here. I should eat it, really. Seriously. I should make the bones into jewelry and throw the meat into a stew. But it probably tastes terrible, and, honestly, I don¡¯t have the time. But I¡¯m not going to feel bad about slicing it up just because it walks around on two legs. There are people back on Earth who eat monkey. I¡¯d feel worse about that than this. Monkeys are cute, at least. Sometimes. These fuckers aren¡¯t cute at all. In fact, it was better than that, I told myself. This was a monster. It deserved everything I gave it. I could have tortured it for weeks and it still wouldn¡¯t have evened out the karmic debt this creature had accrued, raping and pillaging and slaving and murdering. And I killed it, which was only right. It didn¡¯t have a soul, not any more than a rat had a soul - but on the off chance that it did, it was burning in hell. Fuck you. I thought as I carved, tapping into my hatred of the Kalamuzi - and other hates. It helped the process along. Fuck you all. You all deserve it, and worse. I¡¯ll wear your fucking skin, and there¡¯s not a damn thing you can do about it. In the interest of time, I didn¡¯t skin the whole carcass. I started by scalping it - what a terrible word to use, why did I have to think that - and I went slowly there, careful to keep the face, and especially the nose, as intact as I possibly could. From there, continuing the one piece of skin, I got the shoulders, the arms and hands, and then I gave up somewhere down the torso. First of all, because I wanted no part in performing a Kalamuzi castration. Second of all, time was of the essence. Besides, I¡¯d already demonstrated that the ratmen didn¡¯t pay the closest of attention. My lower half would be covered, and I wasn¡¯t expecting to be frisked. It ended up being like a cloak, as I left most of the front open below the snout. I didn¡¯t want to be literally wearing a suit of skin if I could help it. It reminded me of those hats that girls in highschool used to wear, with long ears that you could put your hands in to keep warm. Lot was right, I thought. This is grotesque. I held up my finished work. It was bloody, hairy, smelled like death, and, honestly, I hadn¡¯t done that good of a job. It looked terrible. I suppose you could say that it was far outside my realm of expertise, but if you pressed me, I wasn¡¯t sure I could tell you what my realm of expertise was, exactly, besides parasitism and mimicry. Hatred, I supposed. Hatred was my new wheelhouse. It was getting me to some strange places, already. First I took off my dress - I couldn¡¯t imagine a Kalamuzi wearing that. I had my old clothes on underneath, and after everything I had been through, they were dirty enough that they could pass as Kalamuzi clothes just fine. I used the dress to try and mop up the blood on my pelt, and it kind of worked. I lifted the pelt over my head, then realized that the wig was going to get in the way. Still not wanting to waste any time, I used Lot¡¯s knife to cut my own hair just below where it fed into the wig. It meant losing a little hair, but I needed a haircut anyway. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I put the skin on, and it felt wet and sticky and all around absolutely awful. I turned back to Lot. ¡°What do you think?¡± One of them women had snuck a peak, and almost immediately vomited. ¡°I think I feel fairly similar to how she feels¡± Lot said. ¡°Do I look like a Kalamuzi?¡± ¡°About as much as you looked like a woman.¡± ¡°Well that¡¯s perfect then,¡± I said. ¡°Because the last disguise worked, didn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Except that Kalamuzi see a lot more Kalamuzi than they do human women.¡± I frowned. ¡°You think they¡¯ll notice.¡± ¡°If I say yes, will it have any effect on your¡­ momentum, did you call it?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Then I suppose I will have to take the lead,¡± Lot said. ¡°Pull a hood over your head, wrap a cloak up tight beneath your chin, and stay behind me.¡± ¡°Hold up,¡± I said. I had had another thought. Mercury¡­ I walked over to where the guards had kept those potions, the ones that looks like mercury. I popped the cork off of one of the bottles, and the smell nearly knocked me out, a thick smell. Like ethanol, I thought. First, I poured out a little bit on the floor. It sounded almost like it sizzled, and my stomach started to hurt just thinking about that. Now that there was air inside the bottle - after all, fire needs oxygen, right? - I took a nail from out of my pocket and dropped it it. I corked it again, thinking. If it was just flammable, then lighting it would just make a fire in the bottle, and not do much else. For a molotov to work, it has to break. But if it was explosive¡­ I was pretty sure that mercury wasn¡¯t flammable, normally, but I wasn¡¯t sure that the stuff was actually mercury. And I thought I remembered watching an old TV show where the main character used some kind of mercury to make an explosion. Maybe. It was called like, culminated mercury, or something. I don¡¯t know. It was worth a shot. ¡°You know Miles,¡± Lot said as I carried what I hoped was a weapon into the hallway, setting it down what was hopefully a safe distance away. ¡°You are a frightening man, at times.¡± ¡°That says more about society than it does about me,¡± I said. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Now everyone back away. Hopefully I¡¯m about to make another mess.¡± They all listened, the women now not sure whether they were more scared of me or Lot, clearly. You could read it on their faces. He was a Kalamuzi, but I was crazy. That¡¯s what they were thinking. I reached out for the strings, and was happy to find them just as responsive as ever. I took a deep breath, and sent out a shot of mana. An explosion rocked the room. Gore and trash flew from the hallway. Everyone was yelling, but it took me a long time to notice, because my ears were ringing. And the room was brighter than it had been. I realized that I had started a fire. But I was smiling. I had just made a bomb. Remote-detonated bomb. I¡¯m sure the smile didn¡¯t help convince the women I wasn¡¯t crazy. I motioned to Lot that it was time to go. After all, someone probably heard that. But first, I took my pack back from Lot, and I filled it full of those potions. - The way to the fork Lot had talked about was actually fairly uneventful. First we had hurriedly piled the bodies in the hallway, which was now smoking, half-collapsed, and nearly blocked off. The prisoners girls didn¡¯t help - worthless. Then, on our way out, I set off another bomb. I didn¡¯t stay to see what effect it had, but I hoped it would slow the ratmen down who came to investigate. And they did come. We were out of the room just in time so that no one saw us leave, but soon a group of Kalamuzi - a few Talkers among them - came rushing past. We got some looks, but Lot¡¯s story held up. Behind us, I had just barely heard a Talker yelling something like ¡°again?! Stupid fucking idiots.¡± Before long, we were in another crimson passageway, alone, standing before the split. Then something Lot had said before hit me. ¡°Earlier,¡± I said. ¡°You said you were taking the women out. You aren¡¯t coming with me?¡± He shook his head. ¡°It is impossible. You¡¯re going to die if you fight Olsgolon.¡± He held up a hand. ¡°Now it¡¯s my turn to tell you to stop and listen. I am not trying to convince you. You will go with or without me, I know. But these women don¡¯t deserve to die. I can bring them out. That is meaningful, Miles. That is the sort of vengeance that I owe my mother.¡± My mouth opened, but no words came out. Lot began talking again. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do you any good, anyway,¡± he said. ¡°Olsgolon is like, like a¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°I cannot rightly describe it to you. But I couldn¡¯t fight her. No matter what my feelings are, she has a hold on me, on all of us. I¡¯d be just as likely to defend her as fight her.¡± I sighed. I could see immediately that there was no use trying to talk him out of the idea, and I didn¡¯t have the time to argue. I didn¡¯t need him anymore. I¡¯d do it myself. ¡°Fine. If that¡¯s how it has to be. Tell me how to go the rest of the way. I don¡¯t have much time.¡± He did. First he handed me back Naomi¡¯s staff. Then we squatted down, and he drew a little map in the dust. I committed the route to memory, as well as the way out that we had already discussed. ¡°There¡¯s another route,¡± Lot said, pointing. ¡°Past Olsgolon¡¯s chamber. It loops back around to where we¡¯ll be. We will wait for you, for a time. If you actually manage to-¡± ¡°I will,¡± I said. ¡°Then take that route. But if you come to your senses¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I said, standing, smiling beneath the Kalamuzi nose. ¡°There¡¯s no risk of that.¡± Lot laughed and stood as well. ¡°I¡¯ve only known you a short time, Miles,¡± he said. ¡°But I daresay you are right. I envy your courage.¡± I joined his laughing. ¡°Envy? Me? That¡¯s a first.¡± ¡°I find that hard to believe.¡± Lot stuck out his hand. ¡°We¡¯ll be waiting, but eventually we¡¯ll have to leave without you. I hope I see you again.¡± I took his hand. ¡°Good luck,¡± I said. ¡°Get these women out of here.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t die, Miles,¡± Lot said, suddenly serious. ¡°You¡¯re the best person I¡¯ve met in my life, since my mother died. The world would be worse off without you.¡± I laughed again. ¡°If I¡¯m the best person you¡¯ve ever met, you need to get out more.¡± ¡°Um, excuse me?¡± The middle-aged woman was talking. The other two girls weer cowering behind her. ¡°Did you say we¡¯re going with *ahem* with him?¡± She motioned to Lot. ¡°You have a problem with that?¡± I asked. ¡°Of course I have a problem with that,¡± she said, hands on her hips. ¡°You think I trust a Kalamuzi to get me out of here?¡± ¡°He¡¯s only a quarter Kalamuzi,¡± I said. ¡°He¡¯s mostly human. Besides, what¡¯s your alternative? Would you rather come with me? I¡¯m going to go fight Olsgolon.¡± It was clear from the face she made that she did not want to do that, either. The woman looked at Lot sideways. ¡°I just want to help,¡± Lot said. ¡°My mother was in the position you¡¯re in. She died in the prison.¡± The woman scrunched up her face. ¡°Look,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve got shit to do. Go with him, don¡¯t, it doesn¡¯t matter to me. But I¡¯m leaving. If you want to live, go with Lot.¡± I turned to the path. I could hear some bickering continue behind me, as well as one of the girls crying out after me, asking me not to go. But I ignored all of that. They would follow Lot. What else could they do? I had more important things on my mind. I turned back, talking over my shoulder. ¡°Hey Lot. One last thing.¡± ¡°What is it?¡± he said. ¡°Any advice for killing Olsgolon?¡± ¡°Crack the core,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ll have to get past the bodies and treasure, but the core underneath is Olsgolon herself. If you don¡¯t break that, she won¡¯t die.¡± ¡°And how do I get down to the core?¡± He laughed again. ¡°You could try burning it.¡± I chuckled. ¡°Sounds like a plan.¡± Chapter 81 - The Ritual The fleshy passageway quivered, contracting and expanding like it was an artery. It couldn¡¯t be, of course, since it was empty besides me, and not full of blood. The further I went, however, the more I could no longer convince myself that it was a trick of the dim root-light. The Omphalos was alive - or something close to alive. I had my Drows, a pocket full of nails, a slingshot, 6 shots - 7 if you counted the pommel, Naomi¡¯s staff, the ring, and about a dozen bottles of the anti-mana concoction. Two spells - ignite, and melt. People always repeat that saying about ¡°when all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.¡± But they say it like it¡¯s a problem. Like it¡¯s bad to start hammering everything, bad to use the tool you¡¯re familiar with, bad to play to your strengths. If all you have is a hammer, then you have to treat everything like a nail. What else could you do? My tool was fire. Sure, I had other weapons, but it always came down to fire. It wasn¡¯t my choice, but it¡¯s what I had, and I used it. Every time something looked like it could be flammable, like I might be served by burning something, I did it. And it had worked. I had a bag full of firebombs because of my new anti-social habit of lighting things on fire. Back in Berenguer¡¯s manor, it may have all been an illusion - I still didn¡¯t know which bits were real and which weren¡¯t - but I had done the same there. It was ingrained in me now, close to two months training as a magical arsonist. So that¡¯s why I took a second to shove a nail into the red flesh, and light it. To see if the wall could feel pain. It did. Or at least, it seemed to. When the fire sprang up around the nail, the wall undulated faster, and the floor quaked, nearly toppling me over as I struggled for balance. A sense of dread fell over me for a moment as the walls contracted further as if they were going to close completely, crushing me in an attempt by the structure to put pressure on its wound. But the wall wasn¡¯t flammable. The flame died quickly, the walls retreated, and soon the only evidence of my experiment was a little scorch mark about the size of a finger nail. ¡°Lot¡¯s going the other way,¡± I muttered to myself, thinking. ¡°And I¡¯m taking a different way out. I suppose I could block Cadoc, but I have no clue where he is, and he could take the other way. So yeah, it should be fine.¡± I took a bottle from my pack. While I was at it, I took them all out, uncorking each and putting nails into them one-by-one. I¡¯d have to be careful not to light them by accident - since the magic was done with a thought, I was afraid it would be kind of like when someone tells you not to imagine your mother naked, and so, of course, you do - and just like how the kids at school would always say you¡¯d burn in hell if you imagined your mom naked, I¡¯d be burned by a different fire if I thought about igniting those nails. But I hadn¡¯t had any screw-ups before, so I really had nothing to worry about. I was just a little on-edge, handling unknown explosives and all. Based on what I had overheard a Talker say before, this wasn¡¯t the first time the potions had exploded. And they didn¡¯t have magic. After that thought, I was very careful handling the potions. Then I returned all but one, and that one I placed on the ground where the floor touched the wall, although the passage was rounded such that there wasn¡¯t really a clear distinction between the two. The potion laid on the curve. I pressed further on, leaving the potion at my back. It took some restraint, but I didn¡¯t light it just then. I didn¡¯t want to interrupt the ritual that Lot had mentioned - or at least, not until I was there. Didn¡¯t want them speeding things up, or preparing for a fight. The element of surprise, and firebombs - those were most of my advantages right there. That, and hatred. The Kalamuzi, being something close to animals, were likely incapable of hate. The bear doesn¡¯t hate the hiker that it mauls - it¡¯s just instinct. Eventually, the hunter who hates the bear wins. Eventually. The passage continued on for some time, and I hoped that the spell didn¡¯t have a maximum range. That was something I had never tested after that initial test from the other side of a hill. I decided I¡¯d try it out in the future, once I was out of that hole, but for now, I figured I¡¯d play it safe. Just before the mouth of the exit, I¡¯d set down another one. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. I noticed a pale light up ahead, and knew I was nearly there. The light was almost too bright, and I thought for a moment I had accidentally made my way to the surface somehow. Instead, the passage ended and revealed a wide, round chamber, like the abyss itself on a smaller scale, and I couldn''t tell where the light was coming from. I was looking down from above, on top of a walkway that spiraled along the outer wall down to the floor. It was made of the same flesh-bone-wood-junk mixture that everything else was. I peeked over the edge. It was nearly the last thing I had expected to see. I had expected a big floating orb or something, the Kalamuzi dancing around it like some tribal bonfire, and Naomi and Amaia roasting over a spit, or something. But the scene was yellow. Gold, rather, and silver, and all matter of sparkling jewels, as well as most other valuable things you could imagine - I thought I could make out a painting in a wooden frame, and silk clothes. The floor was absolutely covered by treasures such that I could not see the red flesh beneath, and the pile rose like a pyramid in the center on the room. That is not to say that there wasn¡¯t any flesh at all - as I peered, I began to make out strands of red running through. But the Kalamuzi stood on a floor of gold. There were dozens of them. They had formed a ring around the pyramid. About two-thirds of them were holding something in their hands, and though it was hard to make out, they seemed to be mostly jewelry - a large necklace, a golden statuette. But some held things I couldn¡¯t make out. The other third were empty handed, and they were all grouped together. If the circle was laid out like a clock, the section from just past 6 until 10 held nothing. I was in line with 6. Just before 6, I saw a cage of bone. Inside it were two women. Amaia and Naomi. I¡¯d found them. They were awake, and alive. Before I could think about that too much, my attention was drawn by the screeching of a Kalamuzi. This one was dressed in an elaborate outfit made of bones, which spread out from behind his head like a skeletal halo. Some of the others wore similar bone-outfits, but his was the largest and most elaborate. He, unlike the others, walked around, spreading his arms, waving around a little scepter. It seemed like he was screeching some sort of speech, but of course, I could not understand it. He looked to be a Talker, but he wasn¡¯t using that skill at the moment. He stood around the 10 hour mark, just before a Kalamuzi holding what looked like a little dog the size of a chihuahua, but with ears like a rabbit and covered in white fur. It was alive, but clearly weak. Perhaps it had been poisoned in some way, as well. Then the head priest - I assumed that¡¯s what the Kalamuzi with the headdress was - swung his scepter violently in the direction of the pile, shouting something. Acting apparently on cue, the Kalamuzi he stood beside proceeded to toss the little dog-rabbit-thing into the pile. The dog-rabbit made a little yipping noise as it flew, but landed on its feet. It barked twice, then tried to make a run for it, now freed from the Kalamuzi holding it. It didn¡¯t get far. I hardly saw the flash of movement - I hadn¡¯t been expecting it, didn¡¯t know what to look for. It seemed to shoot down from the peak of the pile - something whitish. All I saw was a streak which flew at the dog-rabbit, struck the animal¡¯s head, and knocked it out. The creature let out one final and pitiful noise as it collapsed. Then the treasure beside it began to shift, and a small rift formed as it parted, as if the gold coins and silver chalices had a mind of their own. Something sinister slithered out of it. The Kalamuzi watched in silence as the dog, lying there on the bed of gold, breathing faintly, was grabbed by a human-like hand made of bright red flesh. The hand seized the animal and pulled, dragging it into the gap. In a moment, it was gone. The priest broke the silence. He kneeled before the pile, hands raised high, head down. He said something unintelligible - in a voice that sounded almost pleading - then fell back into silence. The room was still for a long time. Then the treasure shifted again. Something emerged, something different. It walked on four legs, and for a brief moment I thought it was the animal, somehow alive, covered in blood, like somehow it had bit and clawed its way back to freedom. But it was a rat. A disgusting skinless rat, but with patches of white fur, and long rabbit ears. It was the animal from before, I was sure, but changed. Twisted. I saw that it had a tendril running from its foot down into the pile. The flesh-rat hissed. The Kalamuzi erupted in cheers. Their cheers sound in no way cheerful, and a chill ran down my spine. Then the rat-thing dissolved. It seemed to simply melt away, back into the pile below. When the cheering died down, the head priest walked over to the next Kalamuzi in line, going clockwise. This one held an intricately carved bow. The priest began his speech again. I looked again at where I had seen Amaia and Naomi, the cage of bone. They were close to naked, both wrapped in filthy rags. Amaia stood in a corner of the cage, arms crossed, turned away from me, towards the pile. Naomi, on the other hand, was pacing, looking in every direction, her lips moving like she was muttering to herself, under her breath. She happened to glance up, just then, and our eyes met. Her eyebrows scrunched together at first, confused - probably at the Kalamuzi head I realized I hadn¡¯t yet taken off - and then recognition hit her, and her eyes widened. I put a finger to my lips, and then nodded. Her dirty face lit up. She turned, said something to Amaia. Amaia was smart enough not to look just then, but they must have attracted some attention either way. The Kalamuzi beside them held a leather whip, and he swung it deftly between the bars and struck Naomi, who I could see even from this distance bit back a yelp of pain. I couldn¡¯t help but notice that the Kalamuzi with them was using a weapon made of a material besides metal. I hoped that was more than an accident, that perhaps they had been unable to drug Amaia, or both of them, or that the potion had worn off, or perhaps the potion doesn¡¯t work so well on mages in the Second Circle. If I could get them out first, perhaps Amaia could provide backup. Seeing the whipping, I wanted to rush forward, throw some bombs, kill some Kalamuzi. But I stayed where I was, and watched. I needed all the information I could get, and based on the proceedings thus far, I had some time. So I watched, studying, patient like a stalker. Chapter 82 - The Rescue The problem was that cage. If I started throwing bombs right away, Amaia and Naomi would still be stuck in there, and I couldn¡¯t even guarantee I could get them out. Suppose the Kalamuzi with the key ran off, or got blown up, or otherwise was unable to be found. In the worst case the two women could be stuck in that cage while a fire burned around them, trapped. So I had to wait. When the end of the ritual came, they¡¯d be let out, so that they could be thrown into the pile. That¡¯s when I¡¯d strike. I closed my eyes, trying to calm my beating heart in the mean time. I knew that there were a million things that could go wrong, and it was hard not to doubt the whole idea. I could blow myself up. I could blow up one of the girls. I could get killed by a Kalamuzi, or Olsgolon - who must be under that pile of loot. I could be successful, but die on the way out. I could¡­ A picture started to form in my mind. A memory. I was laying on my back again, head in Amaia¡¯s lap as she tried to comfort me. I could hear Naomi thanking me for saving her, nearby, even though that didn¡¯t make sense, even though I hadn¡¯t even met her at that point. But it didn¡¯t matter. I was relaxed, calm. The memory shifted, and we were around a campfire, laughing, drinking, swallowing big chunks of spiced worm-meat. Cadoc was there, giving a speech. We all toasted whatever it was he said - I couldn¡¯t really hear it. It wasn¡¯t the same as if I was really there - it was more the feeling of being there. I was happy. Then the memory shifted again. I was at home. My mom was beside me. Disappointed. I couldn¡¯t tell what she was saying, either, but I knew the moment, knew what she must be saying. It was perhaps the most pivotal moment in my entire life. Next, I knew, came Tom. Tom with the answers. Tom with the advice. Tom with that fucking smile. I opened my eyes. The head priest was wailing something as another Kalamuzi was fiddling with the lock on the cage. Soon the door was open. Naomi shot another look my way. It was time. I ripped the Kalamuzi pelt off of my head, and stood. I slipped on the ring, and took a potion from my pack. I ran out from the pathway, feet falling as if on invisible ground as I dashed out above the ritual. Most of the Kalamuzi didn¡¯t even notice me at first - one in the back started to point, but no noise had even escaped his throat before an explosion reverberated in the walls of the chamber. I had blown up the two potions I¡¯d left in the hallway - had to eliminate the possibility of reinforcements first. Then, at nearly the same time, I had thrown one of the bottles - careful to aim it on the opposite side of the pile from where Amaia and Naomi were. Just before it hit the ground, I ignited the nail. The bottle exploded, the sound nearly deafening even from that distance. An eruption of gold and silver rocketed from the pile, burying two unlucky Kalamuzi who screamed pitifully. A few more Kalamuzi, not much luckier, had been blown apart in the explosion. But these were only a fraction of the crowd gathered there, still easily two dozen ratmen. They were all looking up at me now, shouting, screeching. Soon a fire roared where the explosion had been, and the noise of all of this was already a wall, dense and chaotic, but I was still far above it. I wanted to say something cool, something like a hero would say - like Tom would say, that little voice in the back of my mind reminded me. But nothing I could think of sounded right. Someone call an exterminator? No. Lame. So I just settled for throwing another bomb. Amaia saw her opportunity. She ran from the cage while the guard was still staring and shouting, and snatched a sword from where it lay beside the pile - a sword with a golden hilt, embedded with jewels, which looked more decorative than practical. But it worked just fine, she soon proved, as she ran it through the stomach of the guard, who looked almost as shocked by his death as the Kalamuzi who had been buried by treasure just a moment before. Naomi ran from the cage as well, but didn¡¯t grab a weapon, only ran to stand behind Amaia. The second thrown bottle exploded, launching another wave of debris, killing another few Kalamuzi. But they weren¡¯t content to just keep staring and being blown up. The head priest shouted something, pointed, and soon the Kalamuzi were all throwing things up at me where I stood in the air. Spears and axes, like you might expect, but also anything they could find, and I soon found myself trying to dodge coins and bones as well as weapons.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. It was impossible. They were throwing them from all directions, and I had nothing at all to duck behind. And they weren¡¯t about to run out of things to throw. A silver plate, thrown like a frisbee, whizzed precariously close to my forehead, followed by a polished fork which stuck me in the thigh. I shouted, yanked it out - it was more surprising than painful, really - and reached my hand behind my back to grab another potion. I threw it, then retreated, head down, running towards the girls while quickly taking the ring off of my finger and slipping it immediately back on. I dropped, and a strange spear with a sharp, flat blade at the end nearly gave me a haircut as it soared where my face had been a moment earlier. I landed just a few feet from Amaia, just above the floor. I slipped the ring off, put it in my pocket. Amaia cut down another Kalamuzi - they were all heading towards the three of us, now, but had to navigate around the pile and the two fires - and then she turned to me, a faint smile on her lips. ¡°You¡¯re alive,¡± she said. I laughed. ¡°Good to see you too, Amaia.¡± Naomi peeked out from behind Amaia¡¯s back. ¡°Took you long enough,¡± she said, but then flashed me a knowing smile. Two more Kalamuzi ran at us. I drew my drows, got it up just in time to block the strike, carefully angling it as quickly as I could, and the Kalamuzi¡¯s beautiful sword - another taken from the pile, I was sure - shattered. The Kalamuzi looked at the worthless pommel he held in his hand, mouth wide, and I grinned as I caved the ratman¡¯s head in. Meanwhile, Amaia didn¡¯t even need to block. A Kalamuzi was charging her with a silver spear, and the pointed tip didn¡¯t come anywhere near her. It was like the Kalamuzi was trying to stab someone next to her - but there was nothing there but air. Amaia cut this one down as well. ¡°Where¡¯s Cadoc?¡± Naomi asked as she followed behind Amaia¡¯s movements, staying always at her back. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I yelled, blocking another strike. The massive axe the Kalamuzi was holding didn¡¯t break, but the Kalamuzi could hardly hold the thing up, anyway. It fell over after its strike failed, and I put it out of its misery. Amaia and Naomi were both clearly troubled by what I said, but the emotion passed quickly from their faces. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± Naomi asked. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I shouted back. ¡°This is the plan!¡± ¡°What, be overrun by Kalamuzi?¡± she shouted back. There was a lull in the Kalamuzi, for a moment, as the ones immediately at hand had already been dispatched. Except the head priest, who had ran. ¡°Do you know how many Kalamuzi there are in this place? Like, great plan, Miles. Happy you came to help.¡± ¡°I blocked off the entrance,¡± I said. ¡°If we can kill the ones in here, we¡¯ll be fine. And I don¡¯t see you helping.¡± ¡°Me?¡± she asked, as if surprised by the suggestion. ¡°What do you expect me to do? My magic isn¡¯t exactly - hey wait a second. Is that my staff on your back?¡± ¡°It is.¡± ¡°Oh you¡¯re the best, Miles! I could just kiss you. Toss it over, quickly.¡± ¡°No chance,¡± I said. ¡°I can¡¯t be carrying you around right now. I¡¯ll give it back when we¡¯re out of here.¡± Another Kalamuzi had come by then, but Amaia stepped in front of it, and again the Kalamuzi struck wide. Amaia dispatched it without a problem. ¡°Excuse me?¡± Naomi said, hands on her hips. ¡°That¡¯s my staff! And my magic is worthless without-¡° ¡°You¡¯re more worthless with it,¡± I said. ¡°And wait, you guys still have your magic?¡± She snorted. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe how much trouble we¡¯ve been causing these rats.¡± ¡°I think I could believe it actually,¡± I said. ¡°But there¡¯s no time for that. If you¡¯ve got magic, use it. It¡¯s got to do something. I¡¯ve got fucking burning nails, and I managed to make bombs. I¡¯m sure you can figure out a way to make cutting shit useful.¡± She held out her hand. ¡°My staff.¡± ¡°You want it back?¡± I said. ¡°Then help get us out of here.¡± ¡°And how do you propose I do that, huh?¡± ¡°Can you run?¡± She blinked at me. ¡°Uh, yeah?¡± I took off my backpack, and threw it at her. She caught it. ¡°Take this,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s full of potions. Bombs. Drop those around the base of the pile of treasure. Can you do that?¡± ¡°That sounds like a suicide mission!¡± she yelled. ¡°Why the hell would I do that?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll distract the Kalamuzi,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯re all after me, anyway. And they probably still want to sacrifice you, maybe they won¡¯t kill you. Maybe. I just need you to put those down. If we can blow this fucker up¡­¡± I didn¡¯t finish the thought. I really didn''t know what would happen if we blew up the core, but I certainly didn¡¯t think the Kalamuzi would like it. And if I could use it¡¯s power to get to the Second Ring¡­ ¡°It¡¯s either that,¡± I said, ¡°or one of us does it. But you can¡¯t just hide behind Amaia the whole time. We need everyone pulling their weight if we¡¯re going to do this. One of us alone isn¡¯t going to be able to fight off the Kalamuzi while the other places the bombs. Naomi looked up at Amaia, and Amaia looked back. Something passed between them, silently. Amaia nodded. ¡°Fine,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Only you can¡¯t look.¡± A little air escaped my nostrils. ¡°What?¡± She pointed at me. ¡°Promise you won¡¯t look, OK?¡± I shook my head in disbelief. ¡°Yeah, whatever, I won¡¯t look. I promise to try my best, at least.¡± Naomi sighed, then inhaled deeply. ¡°OK,¡± she said. ¡°Here goes nothing.¡± She ran off, hugging the pack. I heard a screeching noise, and turned back to Amaia. Two more Kalamuzi were charging at her, but both missed. She cut one down, and I beat down the other before it had a chance to recover. ¡°These Kalamuzi have a fucking awful aim,¡± I said, now standing back to back with Amaia, drows up. ¡°The worst fighters I¡¯ve seen yet from these rats. Do you think it¡¯s because they¡¯re priests?¡± ¡°It¡¯s me,¡± Amaia said. I turned to look at her, standing there in her rags. ¡°What do you mean?¡± She simply said, ¡°watch.¡± Another Kalamuzi charged at her, this one carrying another of those flat-blade-spears. It started its charge from far off - the most easily read attack of all time, and its aim, for once, was dead on. But Amaia didn¡¯t move. She just waited there as the Kalamuzi got closer and closer. Then, for seemingly no reason at all, as the tip of the Kalamuzi¡¯s weapon got just within a foot or so of Amaia, it turned aside, as if there was an invisible forcefield around Amaia¡¯s skin. The Kalamuzi missed completely, and Amaia rent its neck half off its shoulders. ¡°How did you do that?¡± I asked, although I suspected I knew the answer. ¡°Metal,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s why the guard had a leather whip,¡± I muttered. ¡°But I thought you could only break weapons? Why didn¡¯t you tell me this before?¡± She shrugged. ¡°You never asked.¡± Chapter 83 - The Reunion The Kalamuzi continued to swarm us, but luckily the destruction I¡¯d already caused was slowing them down. If they had charged us all at once, I don¡¯t know how we would have held them off. Instead, they emerged from the smoke and debris one, two, maybe three at a time, and Amaia and I fought them as they came. She seemed to dance through the battle, miraculously avoiding blow after blow as Kalamuzi weapons glanced by her at the last possible moment, their steel points and blades turned aside by her magic. All that was left for me to do was finish them off as they stumbled past, or hurriedly rush any that happened to be wielding non-metallic weapons. And to try not to get in the way too often. ¡°Any other secrets?¡± I yelled over the din of battle, having just ran my drows through a stunned Kalamuzi, whose mace had inexplicably missed Amaia¡¯s head. I killed it almost by accident, the ratman falling on the point before either of us could react. ¡°Yes,¡± Amaia said back, and I smiled at that. I was actually happy to be annoyed at her unhelpful responses again. As I wrenched my drows out of the downed enemy¡¯s chest cavity, three more Kalamuzi appeared, but it seemed that they had seen us before we had seen them - and I think they had seen at least one of their kin fall. These three were talkers - not that they used that ability, but I¡¯d gotten good at telling the difference. Their heightened intelligence seemed to finally pull through, as they cast their swords into the pile and approached us with raised claws. Perhaps it was a lucky guess, or perhaps the rats felt more comfortable with their claws, but I knew they¡¯d be a problem. I drew my slingshot from where it hung on my belt, and took aim. I regretted having to use ammunition there, expecting that I wouldn¡¯t have the chance to pick it up later, but you know, desperate times. ¡°Get ready to charge them,¡± I said to Amaia. ¡°I probably won¡¯t kill them with this, but they¡¯ll be very distracted.¡± Of course, I hoped that I would kill them, but hope doesn¡¯t mean much. Amaia nodded, bringing her sword a little higher. I aimed for the left eye of the closest one, imagining that the steel ball would punch past the eyeball and into the brain. But I quickly saw that my aim wasn¡¯t perfect - the smoke, the stress, and the moving target proved a little too much, and I could only watch as the ball traced a path through the air just a hair too far left, and I expected it would sail right past, a waste of precious ammo. Instead, subtly - so subtly that I could have missed it, missed it dozens of times, even - the ball curved to the right. It was the smallest fraction of an inch, but that difference was magnified over the ball¡¯s flight, and by the time it reached its target, it struck true, barreling through the eye of the Kalamuzi. Stunned, I almost forgot to ignite it. When I did, the Kalamuzi collapsed into a withering pile as fire consumed its eye - and hopefully brain - from the inside. It didn¡¯t get back up. ¡°Did you do that?¡± I asked Amaia, almost not caring about the other Kalamuzi still approaching. ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°Did-have you always been doing that?¡± It looked almost like Amaia was holding back a smile. ¡°You aren¡¯t as good of a shot as you think.¡± That was a blow to my burgeoning self-confidence. Bewildered, I loaded another steel ball, took aim at the next ratman. I had to use a lot of willpower not to doubt myself, not to start wondering which shots I had made, and which I had missed, whether I had made a single shot by myself. I released the band, and this one flew straight. I didn¡¯t think I saw it move, but I couldn¡¯t be certain. This Kalamuzi dropped as well, and soon I was saying ¡°no,¡± mentally, to their mana - as I¡¯d been saying no since I¡¯d fallen down the abyss, now almost by habit alone, unthinking. I was happy that we were killing Kalamuzi, but all the same¡­ The last Kalamuzi reached us before I could fire another shot, but it was now outnumbered. I put away my slingshot as Amaia dodged the Kalamuzi¡¯s claws the old-fashioned way. Then, while it was busy with her, I came from another angle and broke its arm with my anti-sword. After that, it didn¡¯t last long. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡± I asked as soon as the ratman was dead, before it had even hit the ground. ¡°Did I ever hit a shot? Have you been doing that the whole time? Why not just use magic to shoot the balls yourself?¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Can¡¯t do that,¡± she said. ¡°Too much distance, magic not that strong. Can only nudge it a little.¡± ¡°And how much nudging have you been doing, exactly?¡± ¡°Some.¡± And like that, I was over it. Not the shooting - that would continue to bug me, I was sure. I was over the happy reunion. Her responses had gone right back to being infuriating. Before I could complain, another figure appeared from the smoke. I made to grab for my slingshot, but soon stopped myself. It was Naomi, back from her run. I had lost track of time fighting with Amaia, but it must have been awhile. Naomi was still some distance away, but it was easy to tell it was her, running with the backpack still wrapped in her bare arms, her bare shoulders hunched forward, her tanned, bare legs working like pistons. Is she naked? The backpack obscured enough that I couldn¡¯t tell for sure, but I thought that those rags she had been wearing before, even as torn as they were, had covered her shoulders at least a little. Had it burned up in the fire? She didn¡¯t look burned. As some of the smoke between us cleared, however, I saw that she was injured. Maybe a Kalamuzi had torn a piece from her rags. Shallow cuts covered her body - so shallow that they didn¡¯t bleed, like paper cuts. Which meant they almost certainly weren¡¯t Kalamuzi claw-marks, unless she only received the most glancing of swipes. What the hell happened to her? Then, behind her, a Kalamuzi. It was running, teeth barred, on all fours. And it was overtaking her. I grabbed again for my slingshot, but the rat was too fast. I wasn¡¯t sure if I¡¯d be able to get a shot out in time. I hurried, fumbling, cursing myself for getting distracted. Amaia yelled out at her before I had taken aim. ¡°Behind you!¡± As if it would protect her, Naomi hunched forward a little further. I took aim, but there was no shot - the Kalamuzi was right behind her, and I couldn¡¯t get a good aim at it without risking hitting her. Maybe if Amaia could curve the shot, or¡­ Then it happened. It looked almost like some sort of digital noise, at first, like I was watching a video on a phone covered with scratches, or like some sort of weird glitch. There were suddenly white lines all around Naomi, straight as arrows, and they each elongated from one point to another, than disappeared, angles seemingly random. More shallow cuts appeared on her skin as some of the lines traced over her, and she yelped in pain, but most of the lines were far enough from her body not to make contact. The Kalamuzi was not so lucky. It had been just about to dive for its prey, and, staggered by the first slice, had launched itself just short of her, but close enough to go right into the storm of white lines. It screeched as cuts - much deeper than those on Naomi - criss-crossed its body, blood running down from each almost immediately. Soon it was covered, though the cutting stopped as Naomi continued running, regaining her distance. Then she seemed to realized she was safe, and the lines around her disappeared as quickly as they had come. The Kalamuzi wasn¡¯t dead, only injured, bleeding everywhere. Before it could regain its composure, I let off another shot. This one blasted through its eye socket, just like the others. Naomi slowed down as she approached us, and I made a show of clapping, although there was no way she could hear it. ¡°That was amazing!¡± I yelled. ¡°Was that cutting magic? Why haven¡¯t you been using that this whole time?¡± She stepped up to me, her reddening cheeks puffing out a little. One hand kept the now-lightened backpack to her torso, while the other pointed accusingly at my nose. ¡°You said you wouldn¡¯t look!¡± she said. ¡°I didn¡¯t!¡± I protested. ¡°Not until you came back, and I needed to save you. Or did you not notice that I finished off that Kalamuzi for you?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t need your help!¡± she said, pressing her finger into my face. ¡°And you said you wouldn¡¯t look!¡± I snorted. ¡°What¡¯s the big deal? Your magic is nothing to be ashamed of. I wish I had magic like that, it¡¯s like-¡° Then I happened to glance down. She was naked. And the backpack didn¡¯t do the best job of covering her. Now my cheeks were red, I was certain. The right cheek was soon made even redder when Naomi slapped me. Amaia, meanwhile, had begun walking over to the pile. Either there was a lull in Kalamuzi, or we had killed them all. Amaia reach out a hand for something. Then, a streak of movement, like before. I just barely noticed in time. ¡°Duck!¡± I yelled. She did, and the flying object just missed her. But then another shot out. Amaia jumped backwards to try to dodge, held up her arms to protect her face from more. But no more came. Just two misses, than nothing. ¡°What was that?¡± Naomi asked. ¡°Olsgolon,¡± I said. Naomi frowned. ¡°I¡¯m not talking to you. Amaia, what is Olsgolon?¡± Amaia shook her head as I answered. ¡°The core.¡± ¡°Amaia,¡± Naomi said. ¡°If the core can shoot stuff at us, then why did it stop? Why didn¡¯t it do it before?¡± ¡°It happened when I stepped on the pile,¡± Amaia said. ¡°So it just cares about it¡¯s stuff?¡± Naomi asked, then laughed. ¡°Greedy, huh?¡± ¡°Maybe it¡¯s blind,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t see any eyes. But there were those tentacles, and it looks almost like veins running through the treasure, maybe it can sense us when we step on it?¡± Naomi looked around - although clearly careful not to turn her back to me and reveal more of herself. ¡°Amaia, did you hear something?¡± I rolled my eyes. The happy reunion really was over. I missed Lot. Hell, I missed Cadoc. ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°Enough goofing around. It¡¯s time we blew this fucker up.¡± ¡°One second,¡± Amaia said. She held her sword in one hand, and began leaning over the near-invisible border between what was ¡°the pile¡± and what was merely the floor covered in a layer of silver and gold. There was a distinction, but you had to look for it. She reached out with her sword, and used its point to pick up a long, flowing dress of golden silk. She carefully brought it back out of the pile, and handed it to Naomi. ¡°Here,¡± she said. Naomi thanked her and quickly put it on, making me turn away. ¡°Kind of gaudy, don¡¯t you think?¡° I said. ¡°My dress was better. Classier.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± Naomi said. ¡°Never mind.¡± When she was done, I gathered them both together, backing up to be against the wall of the circular room - though Naomi still wouldn¡¯t look at me. No more Kalamuzi charged at us, but I half worried that was only because they were regrouping. But even if that were what they were doing, there was nothing I could do about it then. ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m going to light the nails, and those potions you put down are going to blow. You did put them all down, right?¡± All she said was ¡°hmmph!¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a yes. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going to happen after the explosions. The exit is that way,¡± I pointed. ¡°So get ready to run. Or to charge the core, it it isn¡¯t broken, or to fight off Kalamuzi while I charge it. You ready?¡± Amaia nodded. ¡°Staff,¡± Naomi said. ¡°No.¡± I lit the bombs, and the chamber shook like it was the end of the world. Chapter 84 - Doppelganger I lit the nails all at the same time, and the result was more violent than I had expected, even after having seen the power of the explosions first hand. It was like the crack of thunder that signals the beginning of a cataclysmic storm, the sound any pagan people would have attributed to the anger of a vengeful god. Everything seemed to be rocked by it, like if it had been any more powerful I would have knocked the planet off of it¡¯s orbit. The shaking, though short lived, was like an earthquake, and the three of us were thrown off of our feet. Then came the hail. Showers of silver and gold rained down, pelting the floor with treasures. Among these treasures were weapons, so it was a particularly lethal rain - I¡¯m sure that a few surviving Kalamuzi met a terrifying end, buried by their own greed, impaled by the weapons of their victims in a twist of cosmic justice. I thought at first that the terrible noise following the explosion was their death rattles, but I quickly realized it was the cry of Olsgolon herself. A piercing wail, screamed from a being with no mouth that I had seen, sounding like it came from inside my own head. I had had the good sense not to place a bomb right in front of us, but still there were stray projectiles. I thought it was all over when I saw a halberd heading towards me with a meteoric speed, too quick for me to crawl from in my exposed position. But Amaia¡¯s magic turned it aside - by the time the eruption subsided, I¡¯d only been hit by a few coins and gems, which I pocketed. Couldn¡¯t completely forget about the debt. In fact¡­ ¡°RENA,¡± I said aloud, ignoring the possible reactions of my compatriots, ignoring RENA¡¯s greeting, ignoring the last remnants of the falling debris. I couldn¡¯t move yet anyway, as the smoke had yet to clear, and we could hardly see beyond a few feet then. ¡°I¡¯m absolutely surrounded by treasure here. Get ready to transfer as much as you can. Think you can do that?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll start now, Miles. We appreciate your hard work, as always. You may be interested to know that the staff here at Dimen-X has had a running bet on whether or not you¡¯d resort to terroristic bombings before the month¡¯s end. I¡¯ve been authorized to inform you of this. You¡¯ve just made certain members of the Dimen-X family quite happy. That is, they will be happy, when the report is delivered.¡± ¡°What¡¯s terroristic about this?¡± I asked, annoyed. ¡°Certain organizations would classify this as a holy site of the indigenous people¡¯s religion,¡± RENA said. ¡°But protocol instructs me to ignore this in the face of such profit.¡± I laughed. ¡°Priorities, huh? Fine. Just grab as much as you can.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, Miles.¡± With that, I turned up my head, assessing the situation as it now stood. Besides a sliver directly ahead of us, the pyramidic pile of loot had been tossed aside, revealing the core itself. Or herself. It was a massive sphere, easily three or four times the height of a man, perfectly rounded in a way that looked otherworldly and alien in that low-tech planet. The surface was like chrome, reflecting the surrounding smoke, dyed in the red light cast by the flames. The temperature of the chamber had risen considerably by now, and sweat began pouring down my back, my arms, my forehead, and the appearance of that thing did not help. It didn¡¯t look like an enemy, but some sort of anomaly, a mistake, something that shouldn''t exist. From it stretched hideous organic tendrils and webbings of flesh, tethering the orb and connecting it to what remained of its pile - and I couldn¡¯t rightly tell where the biological and the orb met, one flowing smoothly into the other as if it weren¡¯t impossible. Exposed veins, many now severed and cauterized, ran in strange patterns over the surface of the now semi-exposed stone floor, spread like an arcane circle I¡¯d imagine someone on Earth using to try to summon a demon. But more than anything I looked at the surface, that reflective, metallic surface, and saw the three of us, saw me, and obscured by the clearing smoke, I almost mistook the image for someone else. I looked away before the sight mesmerized me - I knew almost by instinct that it could. ¡°Damnit,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t see a crack in the thing. We¡¯ve still got to bust it open.¡± ¡°Hand me my staff,¡± Naomi said. ¡°And I¡¯ll slice through it like a hard-boiled egg.¡± ¡°You think that would worked?¡± I asked. ¡°Also, I thought you weren¡¯t talking to me.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t. I was, like, just thinking aloud, or something.¡± Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°If anything, I think I should give it to Amaia,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe a Second Ring mage could use it without knocking herself out.¡± ¡°Probably,¡± Amaia said. I proceeded to hand her the staff - I doubted that it would do me any good with the core. That was a job for the drows. Olsgolon looked as fragile as a crystal ball, and I hoped that proved to be accurate. Besides, I could always get the staff back after I reached the Second Ring myself. Which, I hoped, would be very, very soon. I supposed I should give it back to Naomi eventually, but she was much more useful without it. ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± Naomi said, hands once again on her hips. ¡°Yeah, like I¡¯m really going to stand by and let this happen. Sure. Hand it o-¡° Just then, another explosion, and more screaming. This was concerning, as I didn¡¯t have any more bombs. The noise had come from above us. I glanced at the walkway which curved around the wall - and I didn¡¯t see anything at first, as it was directly overhead. But I walked a ways to our left, hoping to get a better look. A little further on, where the path curved down a bit, I began to see them. Kalamuzi. A horde of them, marching, and a cadre of talkers at the head. ¡°Fuck,¡± I said. ¡°They must have blasted their way in. Alright, here¡¯s what we¡¯ll do. Amaia, you play defense. Naomi-¡° But my planning was cut short. Two tendrils of red flesh shot out from the core on either side of me - the one to my right shooting between me and where Naomi and Amaia still stood. The tendrils hadn¡¯t come anywhere near hitting us, but it didn¡¯t seem like that was the intended effect. They burrowed into the wall of the chamber, and below them hung cobwebs of gore, dark like dried blood, through which I could see only pockets, but clearly couldn¡¯t simply walk through. It was like it was on purpose, like Olsgolon had wanted to single me out. And this was one situation where having a drows rather than a sword was rather inconvenient - I couldn¡¯t slice through it with what I had on me. It seemed like it should have just impaled me, but maybe it couldn¡¯t. Other that the shots it fired at us, it seemed to move slowly - otherwise, couldn¡¯t it had birthed an army of Kalamuzi to fight us? Maybe it simply didn¡¯t have the power or mana to simply fight us on it¡¯s own. Through the gaps I saw Amaia approach, sword in hand, while Naomi ran around in panic in her golden dress, clearly unsure what to do and wanting, I was certain, to run away. Amaia sliced at the webbing, but the sword sunk into it like slime, and it was difficult for her to get it back out. When she did, only minimal damage had been done to the obstacle. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me!¡± I yelled. ¡°This doesn¡¯t change anything. Hold off the Kalamuzi as long as you can. I¡¯ll handle destroying the core.¡± I could just barely see Amaia nod. Then she walked over to Naomi, and I think patted her on the back, said something to her - but, I noticed, did not hand her the staff. ¡°Good,¡± I muttered to myself. ¡°Because I¡¯m not carrying her out of here.¡± I figured that they should be fairly safe, for awhile. If Naomi was willing to use her magic, and wasn¡¯t knocking herself out, and if Amaia could use the staff, it might take a very long time before the Kalamuzi could touch them. Maybe if we had given Amaia the staff from the beginning, they never would have been captured in the first place. I turned back to the core, and recoiled at what I saw. It was me. Not my reflection, but me. What I would look like, I imagined, if you skinned me alive - but recognizably me, all the same. As I watched in horror, the mass of flesh began to grow skin, features started to coalesce, even clothes began to be created as if from nothing. I noticed the tendril running from the right ankle, which ran back to the core. It was creating it, somehow. Maybe the same way it had created the Kalamuzi. The skin worked it¡¯s way like a wave up the figure, and the last thing to form, even after the leathers that perfectly matched my own, was the face. I gasped. It was Tom. My heart skipped a beat at the sight, even though I knew that it was an illusion, that it had just been created before my eyes, even though it only looked like Tom because I looked like Tom, had undertaken herculean efforts in order to look like Tom. But knowing that was one thing, and seeing Tom, alive, in the flesh - that was something else. A weapon formed in his hand, a squared rod matching my drows, except that it was made of white bone. Then a layer of metal creeped over it, and it looked like my mine. And the creature smiled, and it was Tom¡¯s shit-eating grin down to the smallest detail. I laughed, and I guess my face didn¡¯t look too dissimilar to that grinning freak. ¡°You have no idea how much I¡¯ve been looking forward to this,¡± I said. ¡°Thanks, Olsgolon. It¡¯s like Christmas came early.¡± I grabbed my slingshot. The core hadn¡¯t finished that detail yet - it was slow work, forming treasure and sacrifices and fresh Kalamuzi corpses into a human body complete with armor and weapons. And I knew there was no way it could imitate my magic. I aimed quickly, and fired - this time certainly without Amaia¡¯s help. The shot flew as well as I could have hoped, restoring some confidence in my aim, but it didn¡¯t matter. The doppelganger didn¡¯t even bother to dodge, nor did it raise and aim it¡¯s own slingshot. Instead, it merely raised a hand - calmly, no hurry - in the path of the steel ball. The ball embedded itself it the palm. I ignited, and the figure only smiled at me. The hand fell off, a clean break at the wrist. Immediately a new hand began forming while the old one seemed to melt into the floor, absorbed, leaving a little burning ball. Then, still smiling, the lookalike fired a projectile of its own. I had already seen Olsgolon do this before - that streak of white from atop the pile. But this was more grotesque - a sharpened bone opened a wound from within the palm of the creature¡¯s hand, and the bone then shot forward - propelled by who knows what - shooting at me with deadly speed. I jumped aside just in time, but didn¡¯t have much room, the wall of flesh webs being close at hand. It was clear that a ranged encounter wasn¡¯t going to work. I¡¯d have to get close. Even better, I thought. I can get the satisfaction of beating his face in. But Olsgolon didn¡¯t wait for me to approach. It seemed to take time to create those bones, but not enough time - shot after shot was launched at me, and it took everything I had just to keep from getting hit. But the moment I tried to press forward, one did hit me - the bone¡¯s tip carving a neat line across my left forearm. I cursed aloud. This wasn¡¯t working. In a desperate play, I shouted at the core - unsure how sentient it was, whether or not it could understand me at all, and certainly not confident in the monsters sense of honor. ¡°I challenge you to a duel!¡± I yelled. ¡°No ranged attacks, no magic, just our anti-swords.¡± To my surprise, the shooting stopped. Suddenly laughter sounded in my ears, a feminine laugh - I thought at first that it was RENA, but the voice was different. Somehow less human. ¡°I accept.¡± Chapter 85 - Mirror Image I crept cautiously forward, half-expecting a lethal bone to be launched into my side at any moment. But Olsgolon let me approach. I tightened my grip on my drows. It made some sense, I supposed, that Olsgolon would honor a duel - everything else in that world had, and that included the Kalamuzi, which Olsgolon had created. Stay alert, I thought to myself. Don¡¯t take anything for granted. She - it - is not a person, not a human being. It¡¯s worse than a monster. It could lie. If I start to win, it will almost certainly break its word. It¡¯s only doing this because it thinks it can win, thinks it has a better chance fighting me like this than at range, for whatever reason - maybe it thinks I can just blow shit up at will. Doesn¡¯t matter. It made a mistake, and yet probably thinks that I did. Capitalize on that. And that thing it made, it isn¡¯t Tom. It isn¡¯t Tom. I had to keep telling myself this because the closer I got, the harder it was to believe it. It was Tom - I could have shown a picture of it to his own mother and she¡¯d have believed it was him. If his mother was ever around, that is. I stopped moving, now within striking distance. The disturbing clone didn¡¯t charge me, but only smiled. That smile. That¡¯s its plan, I thought. It thinks I¡¯m the dangerous one - I¡¯m the one who blew up its golden shell, after all. It heard the Kalamuzi coming - by now it may have even seen them itself, with Tom¡¯s eyes. It wants to keep me busy. Split us up. Let the Kalamuzi kill or capture Amaia and Naomi while I fight it. It doesn¡¯t even need to kill me. Injure me, or simply just exhaust me and my time, and the Kalamuzi will do the rest. So I¡¯ll have to be quick. That voice in my head again, the voice of the devil if the devil was a woman. ¡°Ready?¡± I charged, saying nothing. A thrust for the heart. I wasn¡¯t sure about the anatomy of the creature, but Kalamuzi seemed to work like anything else. They had hearts, blood. Being stabbed would have to do something. The doppelganger flashed that grin back at me and copied my move. It was as quick as I was - quicker, even. I had no choice but to dodge to the side, abandoning my attack. It did the same. An overhead swing - slow, obvious, only a feint - followed by a quick swipe at its drows arm, hoping to disarm it. It moved like my mirror image, reading my feint, blocking my swipe with one of its own. I tried to kick at its ankles, hoping to catch it off balance and knock it over. It did the same, and neither succeeded. Damnit, I thought to myself, after we had both taken a little distance. It¡¯s like it knows what I¡¯m doing before I do it. I shot forward again, swinging wildly, screaming. Perhaps if I was quick enough, erratic enough, I could get through. But the doppelganger mirrored every action perfectly - even opened its mouth in a scream, though no sound came out. Blow after blow thrown out, each one blocked by an identical movement from my identical opponent. I could almost have smiled at the irony, if it wasn¡¯t so frustrating. Is this how Tom felt? I considered my magic, even though that would obviously be cheating. Olsgolon would be unable to copy it, I was sure, but what good would it do? I gave away the staff - which was for the best, anyway. I couldn¡¯t go knocking myself out just then. But my nails on their own, what good were they? Would a creature which could eject its own hand at will be phased by being burnt? Would Olsgolon have even given the thing pain receptors? I continued to trade drows strikes with the copy, but meanwhile my mind was working. I fought with only half my attention - which was fine, because the doppelganger did the same. Another idea. I continued my half-hearted fighting, hoping to lull it into a false sense of security. Suddenly, without warning, I gave it everything I had, lunging forward as fast as I could manage. Still it copied me, and the points of our weapons actually met. I barely kept hold of my anti-sword.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Is this all you¡¯re going to do?¡± I yelled at it, half actually angry, and half hoping that the taunts would throw it off-guard. ¡°Just copy me? Don¡¯t you have any ideas of your own? Huh?¡± The voice inside my head again. The fake Tom extended its hands at me, as if going for a hug. ¡°Are you getting frustrated, Miles? Come here. Let Mother comfort you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not my mother,¡± I said. ¡°You couldn¡¯t make people, huh? Weren¡¯t a good enough craftsman for that. Just a bunch of rats that you twisted into the shape of people. That¡¯s the best you could do.¡± Tom cocked his head at me. His lips didn¡¯t move. ¡°Really? Because I thought I made you just now. Or is my work not convincing enough for you?¡± I shook my head. ¡°That¡¯s not me. It¡¯s just a cheap imitation. Do you think moving that puppet around is impressive? It¡¯s sad. You¡¯ve got no real body of your own, so you have to take from others to do anything at all. Like a tapeworm.¡± Tom smiled again. ¡°When I assimilate your flesh, you will understand. You will be my son.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just stalling for time. I¡¯m done talking to you.¡± ¡°Whatever you say, Miles. You were the one who started talking.¡± A tapeworm. For some reason that word struck a chord in me, after I spoke it. I looked down at psuedo-Tom¡¯s ankle, where Olsgolon¡¯s tendril fed into it. Kalamuzi lived on their own, disconnected, but could this thing? Had Olsgolon been able to form a self-sufficient being so quickly? Somehow I doubted it. Why would it still be connected? Now I really did smile, and I was the one copying Tom again, his face plastered over the body of that creature, smiling back at me. I ran forward in a manic dash, swinging my drows at random - and Tom copied it without a problem. But then, in the middle of a swing, I diverted my drows, and stabbed at the tendril. Tom copied me - but of course, I didn¡¯t have a tendril. His point stuck air. But then he broke the pattern. Just before my weapon skewered the tendril, Tom swept his drows to the side, hitting my leg. There wasn¡¯t much force behind it, but it was enough to cause me to stumble. I tumbled sideways, and scrambled to my feet before Tom could follow up. I laughed, despite the failure. ¡°I got you to do something different.¡± ¡°Congratulations.¡± What now? I looked at that Tom, looking for another weakness, another difference. But there weren¡¯t any. The tendril was it, and I needed to sever it, somehow. That was my best bet. But if he wasn¡¯t copying me anymore, then what? If he could do everything I could do, just as well, but also do other things that I couldn¡¯t or didn¡¯t think to do, what hope did I have? If I swung at him, he could swing the same. If I stabbed at him, he could stab at me. If I tackled him, if I cheated and shot at him - whatever I did, it would be mirrored. So what could I do? How could I gain the advantage and get to that tendril? If Amaia and Naomi hadn¡¯t been separated, that could have made the difference. But I couldn¡¯t rely on my friends this time. What could I do that Tom couldn¡¯t? I smiled. That was it. The one thing I could do that Tom could never, ever do. Lose. I sprinted forward, drows primed for an obvious attack - no feint this time. Tom ran at me as well, identical movements. I swung, and he blocked, but instead of separating and trying again, I held, and he held. We matched strength, evenly matched, neither of us budging an inch. I headbutted him. He headbutted me at exactly the same time, and the result sent us both sprawling. But he recovered faster. I made a show of being injured by the exchange - which wasn¡¯t hard to do, as my head felt awful. I groaned, and stayed down - and slipped my hand into my pocket. Tom had already regained his feet, and for a moment, he just stood there, unsure what to do. But seeing that I was stunned, he gave up his mimicking act and walked over to me, drows in hand. ¡°Fuck,¡± I muttered to myself - though of course I knew that Tom could hear me. ¡°I¡¯m seeing fucking stars. Damnit. Get it together, Miles. Get up.¡± ¡°It¡¯s been a fun dance, Miles,¡± the voice said. Tom pointed the drows at me. ¡°I look forward to spending eternity together.¡± I met his blue eyes. ¡°I¡¯m afraid that you¡¯ll be seeing eternity a lot sooner than I will, Tom.¡± Confusion twisted his face. He looked down, saw my hand in my pocket, and desperately, uselessly, reached into his own. His own empty pocket. I was close to the tendril now, being on the floor. I thrust my hand out, clutching every nail I could grab. I let go just over the tendril - melted them, then immediately ignited them. Tom tried to stab at me at that last second, but it was too late. The fire burned away at the connection, and that terrible screaming sounded in my head again. Maybe Tom didn¡¯t have pain receptors, but this thing did. The tendril flailed in pain, but that only quickened its fate, as the living part ripped free of the cauterized end. Tom stood frozen. Then his grip loosened, and the drows clattered to the ground. It began to warp immediately, the steel exterior collapsing around the bone inside, which much have been deteriorating. Then Tom started to shrivel up. It was like watching a man have all the blood sucked right out of him. He aged rapidly, and within a few moments, he was lifeless husk, lying on the chamber floor. The fake Tom was dead. Now, Olgolon. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another tendril appear, saw muscle and sinew weave together into a foot, then another, as Olsgolon tried to construct another avatar. ¡°You cheated!¡± The voice wailed. ¡°I won.¡± I ran to the core, ignoring the new clone. White bones launched themselves at me, but they weren¡¯t fast enough now. One grazed me in the side, but I hardly felt it. Either the adrenaline was keeping me going, or Olsgolon was focusing all her mana on creating another Tom. I was only a few feet away now, my reflection in the orb¡¯s surface now much larger than its source. I almost stopped to cover my ears as a terrible screeching sounded again - I was getting really fed up with that. It was the sound of dozens of Kalamuzi, all roaring in unison. I stole a glance over my right shoulder. The barriers had been dropped. I could just barely see Amaia, staff in hand, a sword floating beside her, taking swings at approaching Kalamuzi like it was wielded by the invisible ghost of a dead warrior. Beside her was Naomi, completely and utterly naked. Her dress lay on the ground a little behind her. The only thing obscuring her now were the white lines, which kept the Kalamuzi back a safe distance. But that didn¡¯t matter anymore. The Kalamuzi were ignoring them now. They were rushing at me. I ran the last few steps to the orb, almost falling over but catching myself. I could feel the power emanating from it, felt it as it mixed with that feeling of anticipation on the surface of my skin that I had had ever since defeating Nolan. But I couldn¡¯t think about that just then. I swung, bringing my drows down from above in a motion I¡¯d made a million times. A crack. A big, wide crack shot across the surface of the orb, splitting my reflection in half. More screaming. I ignored it. I struck again. The crack widened, and more cracks branched off of it. I thought I could see light inside, now. White, almost colorless light escaping through the cracks. Now I could hear the Kalamuzi scrambling behind me. They¡¯d be on me in moments. I swung again. The core split open, and my vision was filled with blinding light. Chapter 86 - Aftermath In the space of a second, time expanded past its natural borders, the sounds of high-pitched screams reached a crescendo, and my entire vision was swallowed up in that blinding light. For just that moment, like a hallucination brought on by a mix of stress and temporary blindness, I saw myself. Not Tom, not Olsgolon¡¯s copy, but myself. I looked emaciated, haggard, and unwell. The dirty clothes I wore hung loose off of my thin frame, and around one ankle was an iron shackle, its chain leading off into nothingness. I saw other people flash by - my dad, my mom, teachers, classmate, Ryan, and finally, Tom. Each person passed by in turn, not even glancing at my chained image as they went, and as they passed the chain, it, with a life of its own, reached out to them, hungry, dragging me behind it. Finally, the image of myself took action. As the chain chased desperately after Tom, my figure dug his nails into the ground, dug in his heels, kicked and struggled and yelled silently. When that didn¡¯t work, I watched as I grabbed the shackle around my ankle and pulled, blue veins appearing on my forehead and on my sinewy thin arms, pulled until finally the shackle snapped and I was thrown backwards. Tom had just passed me and he turned back, a look of concern on his face as he glanced at me where I laid on the floor. In a flash of motion, I scrambled on to all fours and leapt at him like an animal, snarling and wild. I tackled him to the ground, and begun driving graven fists into his perfect face. All this in less time than it takes to count to two. Just as quickly the vision was gone. In its place white light, and a ringing in my ears, and a terrible aching in my muscles, and a question. A question without words, but one that asked something like: ¡°will you take it?¡± Except the question was more than that, like a pool no wider than a puddle but which reaches down into the depths of the earth. Focus, I told myself. Don¡¯t just say yes. What do you want, Miles? I thought about my fight with Olsgolon, the abilities it had shown, keeping in mind, of course, that whatever I got would be applied to my nails. Morphing both organic and non-organic material into living creatures sounded like an amazing power, but what would it do to a nail? Would it just allow me to grow my nails out at will - a semi-useful skill, I supposed - or would I create little nail soldiers who would scour the planet for treasure? I wasn¡¯t sure if that second one was an amazing idea, or laughably bad. Ultimately, I doubted it would work very well. I didn¡¯t want my future power to rely on the bet that you could make organs out of nails. The tendrils were interesting, and seemed like something that might work. Long nail tendrils to wrap around enemies, or else I¡¯d take the flesh web power, and shoot strands of nail from my fingertips. But these concerned me as well, since they had been so slow as to be almost worthless for my opponent, and I didn¡¯t know why. Was Olsgolon distracted? Weakened by the explosions? Using all her mana elsewhere? Was it just part of the nature of the magic? Or was the magic so expensive in mana usage that you couldn¡¯t do much more that Olsgolon did with it - even with as much mana as I assumed the thing must have had. Creating a sudden barricade to split up opponents was how Olsgolon applied the power, and that wasn¡¯t anything to sneeze at, but I was still unsure. I remembered the doppelganger, smiling as its hand fell off and regrew, then firing a sharpened bone from its palm. I would have loved the ability to regenerate like that, but again, if it only applies to my nails, how good is it, really? Finally, there was the shooting of bones itself. If I could shoot my nails - whether they were sharpened and hardened like bones, or not - off of my fingers like a gun, lighting them on fire or melting them as they struck opponents - that could be very useful. Especially if they were sharpened and hardened. There was the obvious concern that the nails wouldn¡¯t reform like the bones of Olsgolon did. It would be terrible to have my nailed ripped off of my fingers every time I wanted to fire a shot, and then have to still wait until they regrew the following day before I could ¡°reload.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. On the other hand, I¡¯d thus far been able to use magic on nails even when they weren¡¯t attached any more, so perhaps I¡¯d be able to do that. Maybe I could load the nails into a makeshift gun, and will them out with magic. There was an idea. I still had no idea how this choosing of abilities worked, if it would work. I wished I could ask Amaia, who was surely not far away, but this was the moment, and although it seemed to last forever, it wouldn¡¯t. I had to make my decision. I focused on the shooting of bone, the creation and launching of it. I pictured myself using it - which was easy, as I¡¯d seen a copy of myself use the power. ¡°Will you take it?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± My vision begun to clear. Fire. Fire still raged around me, casting everything I saw in shades of red and orange, faint shadows flickering and dancing on the walls in the distance, caught in the gaps between flames and smoke. At my feet were shards of something which must have been the core, Olsgolon, but it looked different, the surface of it having lost its luster. It was a dull gray metal now, and the inside was no different. I had half expected to find the interior of the core filled with blood and organs, but this was somehow more disturbing. It was just a broken orb, no sign that it had ever been anything more, anything alive, evil. Here was the god of the Kalamuzi, a pile of broken metal. I realized that someone was yelling in my ear, and then a hand was on my shoulder. I whipped around, still on edge, but I sighed in relief when I saw who it was. Naomi - dressed in that golden dress again - looked up at me. ¡°Uh, hello? Anyone home?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I said, shaking myself. ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°Sorry?¡± She laughed, looked to Amaia - who was standing beside her and kept glancing around, Naomi¡¯s staff in one hand. ¡°What¡¯s there to be sorry about? You did it!¡± And then she reached up and hugged me, wrapping her hands around and squeezing tight. I was stunned, and didn¡¯t return the hug before she had already separated. Naomi looked as surprised by the hug as I did. She averted her eyes, cleared her throat. ¡°Ahem. Thank you for, like, saving me, or whatever. Again.¡± Amaia put a hand on my shoulder. ¡°Thank you.¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say. I actually started to tear up, though at the time I had no idea why. I wiped at my face. ¡°Don¡¯t, don¡¯t mention it.¡± ¡°Good!¡± Naomi said. ¡°Then I won¡¯t. Let¡¯s all pretend this never happened. So, what¡¯s the plan?¡± I cleared my throat. Then, like realizing when you wake up that you¡¯ve missed your alarm, I looked around in horror for what I assumed would be the quickly approaching Kalamuzi army. ¡°Are we safe?¡± I said. But it seemed we were. The Kalamuzi were there, a large host of them in the middle distance, but they were writhing in silent pain on the floor. The killing of Olsgolon must have affected them badly. The Talkers seemed to be in better shape, and though they winced in pain as they did it, I saw a few of them stuff their pockets full of treasure, put on weapons and armor, and leave their suffering kin. ¡°What, from the Kalamuzi?¡± Naomi said. ¡°Yeah, they¡¯ll be out of commission for a little while. Hopefully long enough that they all die when the dungeon collapses, y¡¯know?¡± I blinked. ¡°Collapses?¡± Naomi narrowed her eyes at me. ¡°Yeah, collapses. As in like, falls apart? Caves in? You do have a plan for how we¡¯re getting out of here in time, right?¡± I had a feeling that the ¡°collapsing¡± detail may have been mentioned before, but if it had, it had completely slipped my mind. But it was fine. I did have an escape plan. ¡°The way out is this way,¡± I said, pointing to a distant cavern mouth in the wall, trying to stay calm in the face of Naomi¡¯s concerned stare. ¡°I made a friend down here, and he gave me directions. Basically a straight shot to the surface, he said.¡± ¡°You plan to walk?¡± Amaia asked. ¡°Well, run, probably,¡± I said. Naomi collapsed to the floor in an exaggerated show of defeat. ¡°We¡¯re dead. Oh what cruel fate. Why did I ever get stuck with this idiot?¡± Then she jumped back on her feet, emotion like a light switch, and began poking at me. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you, huh? Why didn¡¯t you just fucking, I don¡¯t know, do better?¡± ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡± I asked. ¡°Not enough time,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Then how do people normally destroy a core?¡± ¡°Normally,¡± Naomi said, a little spite mixed in with the words. ¡°People bring an item with them that brings them back to the surface. Have it with them the whole time, just in case, so they don¡¯t, I don¡¯t know, die? Or like, they buy one right before their final go at the dungeon, if they¡¯re cheap. Even if the dungeon is too deep, it at least gets them part way out. That¡¯s what normal, sane people do.¡± I looked to Amaia. ¡°I¡¯m guessing we don¡¯t have any of those.¡± She shook her head. A rumbling noise resounded through the floor, and then bits of dirt fell from the ceiling high above, and little rocks, too. ¡°It begins,¡± Naomi said woefully. ¡°Well I¡¯m not fucking dying down here,¡± I said. ¡°You can sulk if you want, but I¡¯m making a run for it. Maybe we¡¯re closer to the surface than you think.¡± ¡°I agree,¡± Amaia said. ¡°It¡¯s worth a shot.¡± Naomi sighed. ¡°I suppose.¡± We began to jog away. I made sure, of course, to reach down and grab handfuls of treasure as we passed, stuffing them into my backpack after Naomi handed it back to me. ¡°RENA,¡± I said aloud. ¡°Are you there?¡± ¡°Yes, Miles.¡± Naomi snickered. ¡°A good a time to pray as any, yeah?¡± ¡°Please tell me you were able to take enough. Please, RENA.¡± ¡°Your monthly payment is paid, Miles, and I took the liberty of sending the money your mother requested, as well. As far as what remains, you-¡° I was grinning. ¡°That¡¯s enough, RENA. That¡¯s all I needed to know. We¡¯ll talk more later.¡± ¡°Of course, Miles. Good luck.¡± I had done it. I had managed to pay off what I needed to that month. Probably most of the rest of the debt, too. It felt¡­less good than I had expected. It was probably because of the whole ¡°about to die¡± thing. I took some small solace in the fact that my mom wouldn¡¯t be homeless, at least. Very small solace. It was short lived. Another thought hit me. ¡°What about Cadoc?¡± I yelled as we ran. ¡°What about him?¡± Naomi yelled back. ¡°You¡¯ve probably doomed him just like you doomed us, you idiot.¡± My heart sank. Somehow the thought of Cadoc dying down there alone completely negated any satisfaction I got from saving my mother from destitution. Maybe that makes me a bad son, I thought, but that¡¯s how it is. Fuck. I really hope Cadoc got out, somehow. Just then, another rumbling. We were nearly at the exit now, the beginning of the long tunnel to the surface. I thought the rumbling was just another quake cause by the dungeon collapse, but it was closer, more localized. Just to the right and behind us, in fact. I wouldn¡¯t have stopped to look, wouldn¡¯t have even thought twice about it, if a familiar voice hadn¡¯t rang out from the same direction. ¡°I have come to save you all!¡± Chapter 87 - Cadoc Returns I turned, temporarily forgetting the danger, forgetting the collapsing of the dungeon happening all around us, to face that voice. But while I expected to see a familiar face running towards us, instead, I saw a monster. Burrowing its way out of a tunnel which I wasn¡¯t sure had existed only moments before, casting a snaking shadow across the walls of Olsgolon¡¯s chamber, teeth gnashing and arms working like frantic machines, was a worm-drake, advancing quickly on our position. Confused, sure that what I had heard had been a hopeful hallucination, I knew I needed to run, to get out of the monster¡¯s way before it invalidated all our progress. But I could only stare at it in disbelief as it approached. How had it gotten here? Had it followed us? As I stared, a detail began to resolve itself in the flame-cast light. Something was sticking out from a point on the worm-drake¡¯s back, only a little ways behind the head. I squinted, trying to make it out, and happened to catch a glimpse of something appearing from nowhere just to the side of the worm-drake¡¯s head. The worm-drake snarled and turned away from it, whatever it was, quickly changing its direction. Then another appeared on the other side, straightening the worm-drake¡¯s path. In the fire¡¯s light they looked only like dark squares. Just before my nerves had finally had enough, just before my flight response overtook my shock, my eyes made out what I was looking at. It was Cadoc. He was riding on the worm-drake¡¯s back, A smile overtook my features. I waved at the rider as he steered his steed to just beside us. It took him a very long time to stop. More boards of wood - as I now saw they were - appeared around the mount¡¯s head in succession as Cadoc manuevered it into position - finishing with a board directly in front of it, some few feet ahead. The worm-drake tried to stop before hitting it, but couldn¡¯t - the board fell before it crashed through, but another board was a few feet behind that one, and this repeated once more, the worm-drake slowing down at each stage. It¡¯s was an ingenious braking system. The worm-drake seemed to shake the earth as it settled into place, but I¡¯m pretty certain that was only the earthquakes. And there was Cadoc, now plain to see. He straddled the massive creature, feet braced against the folds of the worm-like body. In front of him was a sword, which he had clearly driven into the back of the monster, only its hilt and a little of the blade still above the surface of the skin. ¡°Hail, friends!¡± Cadoc yelled, beaming. ¡°I am overjoyed to see that you all yet live. But there is no time to waste. Point me towards the core, and let us meet our glory!¡± He had another sword - his own - and he drew this from his belt and raised it towards the ceiling. I didn¡¯t know what to say - couldn¡¯t stop smiling - but luckily Naomi spoke for me, yelling up at where Cadoc sat. ¡°Miles already destroyed it, you idiot! Why do you think the dungeon is falling apart?¡± Rather than be discouraged, Cadoc¡¯s grin only widened. He turned his head towards me. ¡°Truly, friend? This is joyous news! Only, I feel somewhat foolish, having ridden here expecting a great battle, and having arrived too late.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just in time,¡± I said. ¡°We need a ride out of here.¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Let us ride to safety. And quickly. This thing does not like to back up, but it won¡¯t stay still forever. Here, grab this.¡± And he summoned a stick in his hand, which he lowered down. I grabbed onto one end, and, after a struggle, with me scrambling up and him pulling, we were able to get me onto the back of the worm-drake. Next, Cadoc and I both helped Amaia up. When she was mounted, she first grabbed Cadoc and embraced him in what looked to be almost a violent hug. ¡°What was that about?¡± Cadoc asked when Amaia had released him and squeezed into a spot in front of me and behind Cadoc. ¡°I saw Naomi do it,¡± Amaia said, shrugging. ¡°Thought I¡¯d give it a try.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Naomi yelled from below. ¡°Forgetting someone, yeah? Let me up!¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Cadoc and I raised Naomi up as well. She didn¡¯t hug Cadoc, but rather said, ¡°I never thought I¡¯d be so happy to your dumb face, Cadoc.¡± And it was said as warmly as you could imagine. ¡°Alright!¡± Cadoc yelled. ¡°Each of you, grab hold of the one in front of you, and do not let go. If you do, it is very unlikely I will be able to stop this steed in time. Ready?¡± I wrapped my arms around Amaia, surprised not for the first time at her surprisingly sturdy frame. ¡°Ready!¡± I yelled. Amaia, in turn, wrapped her arms around Cadoc. He had to pry her hands off him and make her hold just a little less tight - otherwise, he said, he¡¯d be left with bruises. ¡°Ready,¡± Amaia said. I heard Naomi shout from behind me. ¡°Couldn¡¯t I just stick a knife into the worm-drake and hold onto that, like you are?¡± ¡°No,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°This is a very delicate operation. Stab the thing too many times, and it eventually either bleeds out or worse. Believe me, friend. This is not the first dragon.¡± Naomi sighed. ¡°I¡¯d almost rather let the walls collapse on me.¡± I snorted. ¡°You were pretty keen on grabbing onto me a second ago.¡± ¡°What was that?¡± she yelled, hitting my back with the underside of a closed fist. ¡°Just grab on!¡± I said. ¡°Hmmph,¡± she said, but finally did so with the loosest grip imaginable. One bump and she¡¯d be tossed aside. ¡°Ready!¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Cadoc said again. ¡°We ride!¡± He grabbed hold of the protruding hilt before him with both hands, then pressed down, driving it another inch into the worm-drake¡¯s back. It roared, then lurched forward. As it gained speed, I felt Naomi behind me tighten her grip around my midsection. I didn¡¯t comment on it at the time. If I had, I half expected she would let go and die, just to spite me. I gave Cadoc directions, half-screaming over the noise of the worm-drake and the collapsing dungeon. As we entered the tunnel - which was luckily tall enough for us not to hit our heads on the roof of it - I cast my eyes back at the scene I¡¯d left behind. The fire had started to subside, having already burnt up most every flammable treasure in the pile. The chamber, once centered on a pyramid of wealth, now looked like a battlefield, the gold and silver smudged with ash, obscured by smoke, and mixed among the bodies of the fallen Kalamuzi - some of which had begun to regain their senses, it seemed, and made their way out into various tunnels attached to this central room. And in the middle of it all was the broken core. I smiled again. I had done it. And, now that I had a chance of not being buried, I could enjoy it. For a moment, I simply took it all in. ¡°You¡¯ve got a really dumb look on your face right now,¡± Naomi yelled. ¡°Way to spoil the moment,¡± I said. Ahead of us, we passed even more Kalamuzi. Many of these were the Talkers, who we overtook, each slowed down by arms full of treasure or gilded weapons. But among them were regular Kalamuzi as well, streaming in and out from the numerous branching paths. They seemed to know that it was time to flee their home. I knew that there were other paths to the surface, and maybe there were even quicker ones, but I stuck to the path that Lot had laid out, directing Cadoc. It was not the time to start exploring. ¡°Did you get the money you needed?¡± Cadoc shouted back at me. ¡°Perhaps we could turn back for some more treasure, if you need.¡± ¡°Are you out of your mind?¡± Naomi yelled. ¡°Do not turn this thing around, you moron! We¡¯re barely going to make it as it is.¡± I was touched that Cadoc had even remembered. ¡°I got what I need, for now,¡± I told him. ¡°Happy to hear it, friend.¡± We continued our ascent. The tunnel had a steep angle which the worm-drake climbed with ease - if we¡¯d been unassisted, however, we likely would have been screwed. I thought about the Kalamuzi trying to escape. Would they make it? Would the surface suddenly be flooded by desperate Kalamuzi refugees? In the short term, I thought, I might be partially responsible for a lot of bloodshed. Whatever. I won, my friends are safe, my payments are made, and my mother isn¡¯t homeless. Everyone else can go pound sand. The number of Kalamuzi we passed - or bowled over, in some cases, crushing them underneath the weight of the worm-drake, or else watching as the drake gobbled them up like snacks - the number of these Kalamuzi diminished over time, until finally the tunnel was empty. Which was to their benefit, because the tunnel had narrowed such that they¡¯d have been unable to dodge out of our path any longer. ¡°Look!¡± Naomi yelled, pointing over my shoulder. ¡°Is that light?¡± Amaia nodded, and Cadoc laughed wildly. But I noticed something else, something that worried me. ¡°Are those people up there? Ahead of us, there.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure they¡¯re Kalamuzi,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Run them over!¡± Naomi shouted. ¡°No, wait.¡± I squinted at them. There were four, and while one certainly looked like it could be a Kalamuzi, I thought I recognized it. ¡°That¡¯s Lot!¡± I yelled. ¡°Stop the worm-drake! We¡¯ve got to pick him up!¡± ¡°Stop?¡± Cadoc yelled back. ¡°I don¡¯t believe I could stop this in time, Miles. And look, it is a Kalamuzi. Can¡¯t you see, friend?¡± ¡°I know he looks like a Kalamuzi, but trust me, he¡¯s a friend! He¡¯s the one who told me how to get out of here. And look next to him! Those aren¡¯t Kalamuzi, they¡¯re human women.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Cadoc said in a grave voice. ¡°But I can¡¯t brake this dragon in time.¡± ¡°You have to,¡± I said. ¡°We have to.¡± ¡°The only way to stop this dragon faster,¡± Cadoc said, drawing his sword, ¡°Is to kill it.¡± And then he thrust this sword into the back of the creature as well, and the worm-drake roared again. Amaia took out her sword and did the same, but I had a better idea. I took the staff off of Amaia¡¯s back. ¡°Naomi,¡± I said, but she interrupted me before I finished. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I know,¡± she said. ¡°Fine. If it means getting my staff back.¡± I handed it back to her. We were coming up close to the four figures now, illuminated by the cavern roots and the distant light of the surface. One of the women turned, saw us, eyes widening, and screamed. The rest turned. Lot looked up, a look on his face that could have been resignation. An orange light glowed behind me, which I could see in my periphery. ¡°Wait!¡± I said, realizing something. ¡°You need to cut off the front of it. If you cut off its tail, it might live.¡± And so, complaining all the time, Naomi scrambled over me and Amaia and Cadoc, all of us struggling to keep from falling. Cadoc and Amaia quickly understood what we were doing. Leaning over Cadoc¡¯s shoulder, Naomi shot out a flash of yellow from the staff. ¡°Brace yourselves!¡± I yelled. The magic severed both the head and the arms of the worm-drake at an angle. The momentum carried the new carcass forward for a moment, already dead, but the arms got tangled up underneath it and drove it off course. It smashed into the wall of the tunnel, and we were all thrown from the back of the monster. We soared through the air, crashing back to the ground on a pile, just before Lot and the rescued prisoners. We just laid there for awhile, groaning. One of the four people cautiously approached us. ¡°Miles?¡± I heard Lot saying. I looked up at him. I was laying on my stomach, Amaia below me. We were in a dog-pile, Cadoc below her, and an already half-asleep Naomi pinning me down. ¡°I did it, Lot,¡± I managed to say, the pressure of the weight on my back making it hard to speak. ¡°I killed Olsgolon.¡± Chapter 88 - Tom Lot and a couple of the girls helped us to our feet. We were surprisingly uninjured - just cuts and bruises, which would heal quickly enough. I guessed we weren¡¯t actually going that fast, only that it felt that way when you were on the worm-drake. Which, by the way, lay dead just behind us, it¡¯s blood pooling below it. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it,¡± Lot said. ¡°Though I had suspected something had happened. I felt something-¡° But before he could say anything else, Cadoc drew his sword. ¡°We have been misled!¡± Cadoc yelled. ¡°This is indeed a Kalamuzi, and he has kidnapped these three women. Come, friends! Let our final deed in this accursed dungeon be to free these women and slay this monster!¡± Lot put up his hands to show that he was unarmed, meant no harm, but Cadoc stepped forward. ¡°Wait!¡± I yelled, stepping between the two of them, facing Cadoc. ¡°We haven¡¯t been misled at all. This is my friend, Lot.¡± ¡°You are friends with a Kalamuzi?¡± Cadoc said, eyebrows lowered, stealing glances at Lot as he spoke as if he expected a sudden attack. ¡°Ah,¡± Lot said. ¡°Is this what awaits me above? I ought to have suspected. Oh, cruel fate.¡± ¡°He¡¯s only a quarter Kalamuzi,¡± I said. ¡°And he helped me save Amaia and Naomi. He is my friend, Cadoc. I mean that.¡± Cadoc stood there for awhile, sword in hand, eyes flicking back and forth between me and Lot. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, another quake shook the earth below us, nearly knocking us all over again. After that, Cadoc sighed, and sheathed his sword. ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°But we will speak on this later, Miles. For now, I will trust you.¡± ¡°Thank you, Cadoc,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯ve got nothing to worry about.¡± ¡°I, on the other hand,¡± Lot interjected. ¡°Will have to sleep with one eye open, I suppose.¡± Cadoc didn¡¯t respond. ¡°Come on,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re nearly at the surface, and this dungeon isn¡¯t going to wait to collapse until after we have introductions. Someone pick up Naomi, and let¡¯s get out of here.¡± Lot volunteered, but Cadoc refused to let him near Naomi. Amaia ended up carrying her, and the eight of us made our way towards that dazzling light. I had to blink away tears as we reached the mouth of the tunnel. It had been too long since I had seen the sun. My eyes were temporarily blinded - the second time in the same day, in fact - and I had to shield them as they adjusted. Finally, when vision returned, I took the final step out into the world. It was beautiful. Exiting from what proved to be the mouth of a cave set in the side of a mountain, I looked out over a high desert landscape that reminded me of the one I¡¯d first traveled through, when arriving in that planet - though there were no mountains there that I could remember. But this time, I found it absolutely breath-taking, rather than hideous and alien. Strange birds and insects flew overhead, alighting occasionally on strange desert trees and bushes. ¡°We did it,¡± I whispered. Then I said it again, louder. ¡°We did it!¡± Cadoc let out a cheer and clasped me on the shoulder - it was still strange to have him around again, but I was happy he had put his feelings about Lot aside, for a moment - even if it was so sudden that it made him seem unstable. He kind of was. Amaia just stood there and smiled. Lot, at first, suffered the worst from the brightness, and it was quite awhile before he could see at all, darting his vision in every direction with squinted eyes like a scared animal, unable to focus on one thing for long, and muttering under his breath something which I couldn¡¯t hear. But until his sight came to him, he dropped to the ground and felt at the patch of grass which grew in the shadow on the mountain. ¡°Amazing,¡± he said. ¡°Absolutely amazing.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. At least two of the three prisoners started crying - the third tried to hide it, but I¡¯m fairly sure she was crying, too. I couldn¡¯t at all blame them. Naomi grumbled, still half-asleep. ¡°Now if only we could get something to eat,¡± she said. Almost everyone chuckled at this - not the former-prisoners, but I think everyone else. My stomach growled as if in agreement. I was about to say that that was a wonderful idea, that we should see what we could scrounge up, see if any food remained at all in anyone¡¯s pack, and then, after feasting and drinking with whatever we could find, celebrating as well as we could, we¡¯d sit down, introduce everyone, and plan out our next moves - whatever those may be. In the first place, I had no idea where we were. I did not, however, have the chance to say any of that. I opened my mouth, only for it to hang open dumbly as I stared straight ahead. It was right in front of me, some twenty yards off. I had only missed it because I was so overwhelmed by the sight of the surface. A large white boar-looking creature, with tusks like spears. I had a sudden sense of deja vu. I couldn¡¯t help myself. I laughed heartily. The boar, hearing me, turned. It stamped at the ground, clearly preparing to charge at me. I continued laughing, and held out my hand in the shape of a gun, my index finger pointed at the boar¡¯s head. I was eager to try out my new magic. Probably thinking I was only pointing to the animal, everyone followed the direction of my finger. Cadoc drew his sword immediately, like his hand had already been on it. ¡°How about bacon?¡± I said, and smiled again. Last time I¡¯d been in this position, I fretted over what Tom would do. But something had changed since then. I could feel it now, more than ever. What would Tom do? Would he run to a better tactical position? Would he grab the staff? Tell the women to flee while he fought? Perhaps he¡¯d use some strategy I couldn¡¯t even think of. I had no idea what Tom would do in that position. It didn¡¯t matter. - Epilogue - Dear Miles, Where do I even start? First of all, I hope you made it over here, because otherwise, you¡¯re going to think I lost my mind, man. There¡¯s magic, monsters, fucking medieval civilizations and everything. It¡¯s seriously like I¡¯m in a video game. It¡¯s sick, dude. Better than I could have imagined. If you¡¯re not here, you¡¯re missing out. Big time. I¡¯m going to assume you are here, though, because I don¡¯t know why you wouldn¡¯t be. Either you lost contact with Dimen-X, same as me, or your trip went through successfully, and, well, actually, now that I think about it, that probably means you¡¯re doing even better than I am. I bet they even send you ammo for your gun, am I right? If it wasn¡¯t for the whole magic thing, I¡¯d be jealous. My gun was pretty useful for all of about 30 seconds. Then I ran out of ammo. Now it¡¯s just a relic I show off to the locals when I want a free drink. Anyway, I assume you¡¯re still in contact with Dimen-X. RENA treating you alright? Tell her that her Dad says to behave herself. I don¡¯t want her getting shut down like last time. I¡¯m also assuming that this is a planet roughly the same size as Earth, and so I pretty quickly gave up trying to find you. I¡¯m sure you thought of this yourself, but trying to find someone here without directions would be downright stupid. That¡¯s like if I woke up back on Earth one morning, and decided I was going to locate some dude in Uzbekistan. Except, maybe he¡¯s actually in Malaysia. Or Brazil. Or fucking Greenland. So, my plan is to stick around here, try to make some cash. Maybe make some friends who can help me, too. I figure that if I¡¯m rich or important enough, it¡¯ll be easier for you guys to find me, right? Made sense to me, anyway. Speaking of getting rich, you¡¯ve gotta be fucking loaded by now, huh? I mean, we came over thinking that we were going to find precious metals, exotic animals, that kind of thing. And, we thought it was going to take a super long time, too. Panning for gold and all of that. But man, were we wrong! I bet Dimen-X wasn¡¯t even a little bit prepared for all of this. I mean, they¡¯ve got fucking health potions here! Like, actual video-game health potions that heal wounds basically by magic. Can you imagine how much money that¡¯s worth? Sell that to some pharmaceutical company, you¡¯re set for life. Not to mention the enchanted items, the craziest food I¡¯ve ever eaten, and if we can bring magic back with us¡­ well, anyway, you¡¯re actually able to send stuff back, so I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m telling you about it. I guess I¡¯m just excited. Save some money for me, would you? Man, just thinking about everything that¡¯s happened already gets me so stoked. Fuck Armstrong, dude. We were the first men to walk on another planet. I¡¯m sure Dimen-X will send some more people over eventually, and maybe by then, you¡¯ll have established yourself enough to come looking for me. Or maybe I¡¯ll just hear about you. Wouldn¡¯t that be crazy? Either way, I¡¯ll try to give you the most identifiable information I can. I¡¯m in a place called Asnea. That¡¯s the name of the country, and I think it might also be the name of the region. I¡¯m not entirely sure. I haven¡¯t been able to get a good map from anybody yet. When I¡¯m rich, I¡¯ll probably have to hire somebody. Asnea is ruled by a king, and he¡¯s a pretty cool dude. Older guy, his daughter is our age. Long story short, I may or may not have done some wild heroics and saved her life. So I¡¯m sitting pretty over here, my man. The king loves me, obviously, treats me like I¡¯m his own son, and I think Imeyna likes me. That¡¯s the princess, to be clear. I¡¯m not joking when I say there may be some very big things in my future, Miles. Of course, Asnea is a pretty small country, from what I understand. You probably own half of the globe by now. Just don¡¯t conquer my little place here when you make it to this side of the planet. It¡¯s nice here. You¡¯d like it. What else to tell? Basically, if you can find the country of Asnea, you can find me. I hope that¡¯s as easy as it sounds. It probably isn¡¯t. We¡¯ll figure it out. I¡¯ll also have to figure out how to actually get this letter to you. I have some ideas. Magic is a wonderful thing, Miles, as you well know. I tried to send you some messages before, but I don¡¯t think you got them. Writing this all down like this should make it easier. Maybe. There¡¯s a lot of experimentation going on here. I¡¯ll have to be careful what else I write, because I think the natives might sneak a peak at this. Listen to me. ¡°The natives.¡± Like we¡¯re fucking conquistadors. What do you think of the natives, by the way? It¡¯s weird, right? It¡¯s like they¡¯re not real, almost, because none of it feels real. But they¡¯re also great people, at least over here. Almost too real, y¡¯know? I don¡¯t know if that makes any sense. Tell me what you think. Other than that, well, on a serious note, I wish we hadn¡¯t been split up. I¡¯ve had a lot of time to think here, and I realized you¡¯re probably the only person who would miss me if I died. Wow. That sounds pretty melodramatic, doesn¡¯t it? I¡¯m not trying to get emotional here, but I realized you¡¯re like a brother to me, Miles, and I wanted to thank you for that. You¡¯ve always been there, even when I couldn¡¯t even rely on my own family. It means a lot. When we meet up again, I owe you a beer, or something. I don¡¯t know. I hope you¡¯re doing alright out there. See you soon, Tom --===END OF BOOK 1===-- ANNOUNCEMENT Hi everyone! I just wanted to put this here in case anyone didn''t see my note on the last chapter. Now that Book 1 is completely released (wow), I will be taking a short 2 week hiatus before releasing any more chapters. This will let me catch up on some work (I needed to do some planning of Book 2, and so I ended up falling behind on my stockpile of chapters to be edited/released). Chapters will start releasing again with the regular 3x a week schedule on Monday, December 9th. In the meantime, however, work has already begun on Book 2, and 10 CHAPTERS are available to read on Patreon RIGHT NOW. So if you can''t wait until the 9th, click the Patreon link above to check it out.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Since we''re all celebrating book 1 being finished (you are celebrating, right?) the Patreon is 20% off for the rest of the week (ending on Monday morning). Please consider supporting me there. Not only do you get advance chapters, but you help a starving artist starve a little less (although on the plus side, I''m starting to look nice and lean). Thank you all for the support! Even when I don''t respond, I read every single comment, and I appreciate them all. VERY IMPORTANT LAST THING: PLEASE LEAVE A WRITTEN REVIEW. There is no possible way to convey to you how important these are for growth on Royal Road. If you can''t become a Patron on Patreon (I get it) then please consider leaving a written review. All it takes is a little of your time, and it makes a huge difference to me. Thank you to those who have already left reviews! You''re awesome! See you all in 2 weeks for Book 2! Book 2 Chapter 1 - Bang I didn¡¯t remember feeling it back on Earth. That feeling. That sense like my mind had left my head and descended into my chest, into my nerves, into every bone and fiber, diffused. Like an acrobat, I imagined, who can¡¯t think too hard about each step or else he would fall, and so he pulls himself down into his limbic system, becoming something more automatic - like a machine, I thought with an interior chuckle, or an NPC, if you prefer. While it was happening, everything was different. My body moved as if on its own, unconscious, and yet at the same time more conscious. Primal. Instinctive. In those moments the voices left me alone, and I didn¡¯t worry about who I was, didn¡¯t doubt myself, didn¡¯t remind myself that I wasn¡¯t good enough, that I didn¡¯t have that something that separated great, real people from those of us who just looked like people. In that moment I knew who I was, though I couldn¡¯t have answered if you had asked me. I held my hand before me like a weapon, though there was nothing in it. Instead, I only made the shape of a gun with my fingers, index finger pointed straight like the barrel, thumb pointed skyward like the cocked hammer, the bottom two fingers wrapped around an invisible grip, the middle finger held ready on the trigger. I was pointing, feet planted firmly in the grass, an unfamiliar yet now almost nostalgic sun warming my sun-starved skin. A faint wind blew past. I was pointing at a monster. A basurd, as Cadoc had informed me, all that time before. A mass of white fur, bigger than any pig I¡¯d ever seen and muscular enough that, back on Earth, I¡¯d have accused it of taking steroids. It had two long tusks, uncurling lances, flanking either side of its foaming mouth. I watched and aimed as it charged me. Me, of course. Not the others, who were all at various stages of arming themselves. It seemed to have not even noticed them. Unlike them, I was hated by the very fabric of reality, no matter which dimension I was in. Time had slowed such that I could have counted the seconds between each heartbeat. Internally, with a sense that felt somewhere between mental and spiritual, I waded through that pool of power beneath my skin. It was larger, now, and different. Before it was like a burning lake - now, that lake was made of quicksilver, or else something living, something ready to lash out in a burst of hatred. I intended to let it. I sent the mana forward, thrusting it into the fingernail of my right index finger. I almost hesitated - the last time I¡¯d used my magic on nails still connected to my body, I¡¯d left myself with some nasty burns. The new power should do something different, but still I worried that it might simply rip the nails right off of my skin. I cleared the thought away. I could do nothing then but try. Nothing but shoot. ¡°This is revenge for last time,¡± I muttered, although of course this wasn¡¯t the same Basurd. That one had been turned into a pincushion by Cho¡¯l arrows. But I was being racist. Animalist? Monsterist? I sent the mana into my fingertip, focusing on the word ¡°shoot.¡± Magic seemed to respond to words and ideas just as much as to the movements of mana. ¡°Bang.¡± With a strange, though thankfully numb feeling, I felt the nail start to leave. As the nail slid off, a new one slipped in behind it - which I hadn¡¯t been expecting - and though it felt unnatural and uncomfortable, it wasn¡¯t painful. But it wasn¡¯t effective, either. The fingernail sluiced off, and simply fell to the ground. I frowned. This could be a problem. The basurd didn¡¯t stop to give me time to figure it out, but it was luckily still some distance away. It ran on in slow-motion, and I could see my companions scrambling in my peripheral vision. Cadoc was running at the basurd now, his half-steel Yoskonian blade gripped in both hands. I still didn¡¯t know what the hell ¡°Yoskonian¡± meant, but the word had stuck, for whatever reason. There were still lots of things I didn¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t really know much about Cadoc, in fact, though he was at that time my oldest companion in that dimension. His eyes always burned like green fire, whether he was happy or angry, and he could switch between the two in a moment. He was probably happy at that moment, the maniac.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. I couldn¡¯t see Amaia - she had been behind me somewhere, holding Naomi. But I could imagine her standing there, conflicted, a blank look on her scarred face. Naomi, on the other hand, was probably asleep. Lot had drawn a weapon as well - a knife. He stood between the basurd and the three women he¡¯d saved from the dungeon - not that they seemed particularly grateful, shying away from his rat-like face. I forced more mana into my fingertip, and it felt like trying to piss after holding it in for too long. That¡¯s an awful image, but these things are hard to describe to anyone who¡¯s never felt them personally. When I¡¯d first started using magic, I could feel the loss of mana whenever I lit a nail. It was small, but noticeable. And when I¡¯d used Naomi¡¯s staff, I could feel it all burnt up in an instant. At that moment, though, I couldn¡¯t feel anything. Is that because I¡¯m in the second Ring, and my mana pool is larger? Or because this spell is shit, and uses basically no mana? No matter how much mana flowed through my finger, the nails wouldn¡¯t shoot out like I¡¯d hoped. Instead, another nail simply slid off and fell to the ground, replaced by a new, fresh nail. Which then also fell to the ground. As did the next one. Rather than gaining any sort of forward momentum, the nails instead began sliding off faster. Soon it was a stream of them, nails falling like drops of water. I brought both hands before me, palms down, and tried the other fingers. It was the same for all of them. Streams of nails flowed from each digit, and it reminded me of how I¡¯d sometimes watched the water flow down my fingers in the shower, and how, when I was a kid, I¡¯d pretended I could control water, and shoot it from my fingers. Like water, I thought. Maybe that could work. I braced myself. I figured it probably wouldn¡¯t kill the thing, so I¡¯d have to be ready to jump out of the way. If I could keep it up long enough, it might work. Or else, I could jump towards Naomi - but that was a last resort. I¡¯d given up on the gun shape - now I held both hands before me, fingers spread, as if I was about to karate chop someone. Which was not a dissimilar motion from what I was thinking. Cadoc was still running towards the basurd, and the basurd was still running at me. Cadoc wouldn¡¯t reach the monster in time to change anything. Either I¡¯d win, or I¡¯d die. I shook my head. I had things to do, first. An old friend to punch in the face. I also had debts to pay, and a dream of a happy future, but neither of those were on my mind at that exact moment. Just then, it was only hatred. I pictured Tom¡¯s smiling face, and it got my blood boiling. When I could make out the individual bubbles of spit frothing around the basurd¡¯s lips, I flung my hands, one, then the other, then back, like I was shaking water off of them. Nails flew from them, and as they flew, I melted them. That many targets, all at once, moving as fast as they were moving - I¡¯m not sure I would have been able to do it, before. I¡¯d done groups of nails in the past, but they were usually together - which made it easier - or stationary. But I had no problem. The second Ring really had its advantages. I aimed for the eyes - those cold, animal eyes. It wasn¡¯t the easiest thing to aim while flinging nails off your hands, but every flick of the wrist sent five shots flying, and so I was bound hit my target just from the sheer quantity. And I did. Drops of melted nail, hot like candle wax, landed in and around the eyes of the basurd, and I heard that sound again, one of the first sounds I¡¯d heard in that dimension. Squealing. I lit the nails, and the sound rose to a pitch. The fire was larger than I had expected - not as large as it had been with the staff, but a vast improvement all the same. Flames burst from the nails where they had stuck to the basurd¡¯s fur, and soon the animal¡¯s entire snarling visage was ablaze. Or so it looked in the instant before I dove to the right, hoping I hadn¡¯t doomed myself to be impaled by waiting to see the agony on its face. It didn¡¯t turn to follow my dive, because it didn¡¯t even know that I had moved. Its eyelids had been fused shut by the heat, cauterized. My flames before had been painful and distracting. I wondered, as I dove, whether they were now lethal. Or could be, at least, on exposed skin. Or fur. I landed awkwardly, trying but failing to roll. Luckily I didn¡¯t break my neck - that would have been embarrassing. I scrambled back to my feet, vowing to practice my dodges. I heard a crash, and turned around quickly. The basurd had slammed into the side of the hill, beside the cave we¡¯d just exited. It had ran straight into a wall of rock, and, somehow, had skewered it, the spear-like tusks now embedded into the stone. I shuddered. If I had jumped a second later, I¡¯d be very dead. For a moment the monster was dazed - it had probably just given itself a concussion. Amaia stood just beside it, Naomi in her expensive-looking dress still on Amaia¡¯s surprisingly broad back. Amaia drew her new golden sword, and Cadoc was still running - probably hoping to be the one to finish it off. ¡°Wait!¡± I yelled, and they both turned to me with a look I took for confusion on their faces. ¡°I want to try something,¡± I said. Amaia stared at me for awhile, then nodded, and resheathed her sword. Cadoc frowned, but nodded at me. He kept his sword out and ready. Probably for the best. Just in case. I walked over to the basurd, which had begun to shake itself out of its daze. I guess it didn¡¯t crack its skull open, I thought. Soon it was panting and squealing again, trying to free itself from the hillside but finding itself very stuck. I came up beside the monster, worryingly calm. Worryingly because I probably should have been more cautious and scared, but I wasn¡¯t particularly either. Adrenaline is a wild drug, and my body loved it, when it came. Once I was just beside it, so close that I could have pulled it from the stone myself - if it was even possible, and if I had wanted to - I held one hand over its back, near its wide and muscular neck. ¡°Like I said,¡± I yelled over the basurd¡¯s tumult. ¡°Let¡¯s have some bacon.¡± I guided the mana into my fingers again, and let the nails begin to fall. As they did, I melted them in the air, so that a stream of liquid fell on the monster¡¯s back. It squealed louder than ever, and it hurt my ears, but I didn¡¯t stop. I let the hot nail wax spread and cover the basurd, let the melted nails flow until its entire backside was covered. Then I took a few steps back and, smiling, lit the nails. The basurd erupted into a ball of flame. Book 2 Chapter 2 - What Next? It turns out that bacon comes from the bottom of a pig, not the top. The meat on top is the loin. A basurd is not a pig, but the slice of basurd meat I was eating tasted deliciously like pork. Either my standards had lowered, or the monster was that world¡¯s equivalent to Earth¡¯s swine, like in an alternate universe boars had grown larger and more dangerous than they already were. Considering that the only food I¡¯d had in as long as I could remember had been worm-flesh, I¡¯m sure that lowered standards did have something to do with my appreciation. Basurd pork did not taste like dirt, and that was a welcome change. It wasn¡¯t a long way up to the top of the hill that held the cave mouth, and with myself, Amaia, Cadoc, and Lot working together - Cadoc and Lot on opposite sides, of course, Cadoc grumbling all the while - we were able to drag the basurd¡¯s body up the hill. We were never able to get the tusks out of the stone, though. We ended up having to behead the thing just to get it free. Cadoc did the honors. The rocky hill wasn¡¯t particularly large, but it was tall enough to see well into the distance, such that we¡¯d have warning if anything tried to approach. And the sun was already starting to set by the time we¡¯d left the dungeon, so making camp seemed the best course of action for everyone. ¡°We¡¯ll eat,¡± I had said, somehow still acting as the impromptu leader. ¡°And then we¡¯ll figure out what we¡¯re doing next.¡± Which was the question which had been niggling at the back of my brain ever since I¡¯d cooked the basurd alive: what next? The whole lot of us were gathered around the fire, the sun setting to what had to be the west, dipping down below distant hills. Which meant the cave mouth faced east, and since the tunnel we had followed out of the dungeon had continued mostly straight, we must have been far east of where we had started. Which only made sense - I couldn¡¯t even see Eraztun from where we sat. I saw no sign of civilization at all - only a landscape similar to the one I¡¯d first seen when sent to that dimension, though greener in places, and more mountainous. A desert, full of desert plants. The top of the hill we sat on was flat, like a mesa in miniature. Where we had come from, the cave mouth opened into another flat piece of land, littered with plants that looked like sagebrush and mesquites, though I was certain they weren¡¯t. Further east the land sloped downward, and I could see trees like pines in the distance. Further still, and the pines grew thicker, taller, and closer together, and it was hard to see further than that. Still, I thought I could almost see water between the branches, where the trees were the thickest. In all other directions the desert continued on - it only grew greener to the east. To the south there was a great mountain, only a silhouette, with three peaks. This appeared to be the height of some range, which continued on westward. Perhaps it was the same range that lay near Eraztun - or perhaps it wasn¡¯t. The triple peak didn¡¯t look familiar at all. To the north was a vast mesa, taller than our hill, which ended in steep cliffs on all sides that I could see. It looked like it would be impossible to climb, whatever the case. Building the fire was easy enough - Cadoc summoned some sticks, and I used my flowing nails like lighter fluid. Amaia took over cooking more of the basurd meat - and attempting to smoke it in a box Cadoc helped her make - while the rest of us sat around the fire - including Naomi, who had begun to wake up from her exhaustion-induced nap. The three women who had traveled with Lot were huddled together a few feet away from the rest of us, behind where Lot sat, on my left. I¡¯d never bothered to learn their names - they weren¡¯t special. To my right was Cadoc, tearing into his strip of basurd meat with zeal. It was good to see him again. I¡¯d been afraid he was dead. He noticed me staring, and flashed me a smile. ¡°A joyous occasion, friend,¡± he said. ¡°And a great time to celebrate. You have impressed us all, truly.¡± I smiled back, but I barely heard what he said. I was taking stock. ¡°I, for one,¡± Lot interjected from my left. ¡°Am quite impressed. Indeed, I took Miles here for a noble man, right from the beginning, but I felt certain he would be dead by now. Instead, he has rescued his friends, killed¡­ her, - I can¡¯t believe it - and grown stronger than ever.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Magic. I am quite jealous, you know.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°I don¡¯t remember asking you, rat,¡± Cadoc snarled. ¡°Give me one excuse and I will run you through with my blade.¡± ¡°Catch me in a foul mood and I may just take you up on that,¡± Lot answered with a coy grin. ¡°Alas, I am too happy for suicide, at the moment. The outside world is breathtaking. But I will remember your kind offer.¡± ¡°Guys,¡± I said. ¡°Relax. We¡¯re all friends here.¡± ¡°Friends!¡± Naomi shouted, and then stifled a yawn. ¡°Maybe you should properly introduce us first, Miles, before calling us all friends, y¡¯know?¡± I thought back. I guess I hadn¡¯t had the chance to introduce Lot to everyone, and vice versa. ¡°This is Lot,¡± I said, waving a hand at him. ¡°Well, his real name is impossible to say, so I call him Lot. His mother was kidnapped by the Kalamuzi, and his father was half-Kalamuzi. So he¡¯s three-quarters human.¡± ¡°One quarter monster,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°And he helped me out down there,¡± I continued. ¡°Helped me get into the Omphalos. If it wasn¡¯t for him, we¡¯d all be dead. You hear me? He¡¯s our ally. It isn¡¯t his fault that his mom was kidnapped.¡± ¡°I was coming to rescue everyone,¡± Cadoc said. I shook my head. ¡°Naomi and Amaia would have been dead by the time you arrived. We owe Lot our thanks.¡± Amaia, the only one still standing as she tended to the food, did a little bow in Lot¡¯s direction - a bow which was surprisingly graceful for that large, oafish woman. It looked trained. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. ¡°Thanks,¡± Naomi said, and offered Lot her hand. He took it, and they shook. ¡°Wow your hand is hairy. Does it itch? Do you have to, like, shave your hands?¡± Lot laughed dryly. ¡°It only bothers me as a reminder of my accursed nature. Otherwise, I wouldn¡¯t notice it.¡± Naomi nodded. ¡°Well, nice to meet you, anyway. Don¡¯t expect much in the way of reward, though.¡± Naomi froze after saying that, then quickly bit into her piece of meat. If I hadn¡¯t been paying attention, I wouldn¡¯t have noticed anything. But I¡¯d seen the change that came over her face when she realized that she had used the word ¡°reward.¡± Lot began to respond. ¡°I expected no rew-¡° ¡°Right!¡± I said, pointing at Naomi. ¡°The reward! You said you¡¯d pay us if we got you out of the dungeon.¡± I still needed money - I¡¯d have to give RENA a call before long. Naomi ignored me. ¡°Who are those women behind you?¡± she asked Lot. ¡°Don¡¯t they want to, like, join the group?¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s S-¡° ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re trying to figure out what to do next. I say we get that reward, before anything else.¡± Naomi sighed. ¡°Me and my fat mouth,¡± she muttered to herself. ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± I asked. ¡°There is a reward, right? You¡¯re rich. That¡¯s what you said.¡± ¡°She¡¯s a coward,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°We may have gotten friendly with her, but don¡¯t forget her nature. She abandoned her old companions. Why would she not lie to her new ones?¡± ¡°Do you hate all of your allies?¡± Lot asked. ¡°No,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°I never used the word hate. But I would like to have a talk with Miles sometime about his tendency to recruit the worst kinds of people.¡± He turned his head up towards Amaia. ¡°Not you, Amaia. You¡¯ve been a grand companion.¡± Amaia smiled back at him. ¡°There is a reward!¡± Naomi said, hands up in front of her like she had been caught at something. ¡°It¡¯s just, well, it¡¯ll just be hard to get, y¡¯know?¡± ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± I asked. I was growing suspicious. ¡°Well, I mean, first of all, do you even know where we are?¡± I snorted. ¡°No. Do you?¡± ¡°Nope,¡± she said. ¡°And so how am I supposed to bring you to my family for the reward? Can¡¯t be done, you know?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got to be due east of Eraztun,¡± I said. ¡°No,¡± Amaia said. I looked up at her. Her blonde hair was tied up in a bun behind her head. ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°We went east at the end,¡± she said. ¡°But we went other directions first. Could be anywhere.¡± I thought about this. We had wandered all over, down in the dungeon. I hadn¡¯t been keeping track, but thinking back, it was entirely possible that we had gone miles to the north or south first, before making our exit to the east. If we had gone west, then back east through the tunnel, then we probably would have ended up close enough to Eraztun that we could still see it, so that probably hadn¡¯t happened. But we really could be anywhere. I sighed. ¡°So we can¡¯t just go west and hope for the best, huh? ¡°I know where we are,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°You do?¡± Naomi and I both said the words at the same time, but whereas mine sounded surprised, hers sounded shocked. Cadoc turned and pointed to the south. ¡°The triple peak there. I¡¯ve never seen with my own eyes, but it must be Zinthur¡¯s Crown. And the mountain range around it is Zinthur¡¯s Mantle.¡± He traced along the edge of the mountains with his finger, turning to the east. ¡°Which means that river in the distance is-¡° ¡°Zinthur¡¯s Blood,¡± Naomi finished. I started. ¡°You knew?¡± ¡°What?¡± she said, hands up again. ¡°No! I just¡­ well, if that¡¯s Zinthur¡¯s Crown, then the river must be Zinthur¡¯s Blood. Of course I know that.¡± ¡°And where does your family live?¡± She sighed again. ¡°Coernet. On the banks of the Blood.¡± ¡°Then we¡¯re close!¡± I said. ¡°Perfect. That¡¯s perfect. I say we head to Coernet.¡± ¡°It¡¯s probably very far from here,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Like, really, really far. It¡¯s a big river, you know. And it¡¯ll be a dangerous trip. It¡¯s east, after all.¡± ¡°Is the east dangerous?¡± I turned to Lot. ¡°How would I know, Miles? It¡¯s all the same to me.¡± ¡°Of course it¡¯s dangerous!¡± Naomi shouted. ¡°The east is where the monsters come from. Don¡¯t you know anything?¡± I turned to Cadoc. ¡°It is truly common knowledge, friend,¡± he said. ¡°Well, where else would we go?¡± I asked. ¡°Anyone else know of other towns?¡± No one answered. ¡°Well then I vote we go to Coernet. How dangerous could it be? People live there, right? Cadoc, what do you think?¡± ¡°I was convinced the moment I heard the word dangerous, friend. My sword is thirsty, and my soul cries out for glory.¡± ¡°Hey, wait a second,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Do we really need to go get the reward? We¡¯re friends now, right? Isn¡¯t that more important? We should ask what everyone else wants. Amaia, I bet you have some personal mission we could help with, right?¡± Amaia had finished what she was doing and had sat down between Naomi and Lot. Naomi was elbowing her. Amaia shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve never been east before.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Naomi yelled, but I ignored it. ¡°Lot?¡± I asked. He scratched his pointy chin. ¡°Like I said, Miles, it¡¯s all the same to me. I¡¯ll have to ask the women. I think they¡¯d like to go home, if they can.¡± ¡°Then it¡¯s decided!¡± I said. I didn¡¯t give two shits what those women thought, so that was basically a unanimous vote in my book. ¡°In the morning, we head for Coernet!¡± Book 2 Chapter 3 - Debt If we were heading out the next morning, and there was the possibility of it being a dangerous journey, I figured that night might be my last real chance to have an extended conversation with RENA, at least for awhile. Not that I particularly wanted to talk to her, but I was feeling more confident and motivated than usual, at that moment, and the idea had taken hold in my mind that I ought to know exactly what I was up against. I¡¯d gone too long facing the vague threat of debt and destitution. I needed a number. I excused myself from the group, which had moved on to talking raucously about food and wine and warm beds and all the other comforts of civilization that might be waiting for us. I said only that I needed to go pray, and they all nodded solemnly at that. A benefit of that lie was that they would all think of me as a righteous, holy man, rather than a parasite looking to pay off my extensive debts, secretly contacting my foreign master. I looked over the group for a second before leaving, wondering which of them was the most reliable, before taking Amaia aside for a word. Taking her just outside of earshot, I put my hand on her shoulder and pulled her close. Her leather armor was grimy, but so were all of ours, even after the bathing - which seemed like it happened months ago. And mine looked even worse, I was sure, covered in gore with gashes rent all over. We¡¯d have to get some new equipment when we reached Naomi¡¯s town. Amaia, standing there beside me, seemed almost excited to be involved, to be chosen, smiling. She was in a good mood, like the rest of us. She just didn¡¯t talk as much as everyone else. Her best feature. ¡°Keep Cadoc and Lot away from each other, alright?¡± I whispered. ¡°I¡¯m afraid Cadoc might start a fight while I¡¯m praying. I don¡¯t want us at each other¡¯s throats.¡± She stared blankly at me, frowned, and then a blush of what I assumed to be anger ran across her face. I couldn¡¯t imagine why she¡¯d be mad about the request. ¡°You want me to guard Lot?¡± she asked. Her displeasure was obvious, the tone of her voice gruffer even than her usual. ¡°Oh not you too.¡± I said. ¡°Really? Are we all that racist? He¡¯s mostly human, alright? He¡¯s an ally.¡± She starred at me again, her blue-gray eyes fixed on mine. ¡°I don¡¯t owe you anything,¡± she said coolly. I was taken aback. ¡°What? I wasn¡¯t- huh? I just saved your life, didn¡¯t I? That doesn¡¯t count for anything?¡± ¡°You think because you saved me that I have a responsibility to you now? That I have to do what you say?¡± I stumbled over my words. ¡°Wh-I-¡° I took a breath. ¡°What are we doing here, Amaia? Why is this an argument all of a sudden?¡± She only stared at me. ¡°I¡¯m just- look. I¡¯m asking you as a friend. I just don¡¯t want Cadoc killing Lot, or vice-versa. I didn¡¯t know that was so much to ask. I could ask Naomi instead, I just trusted you more, alright? It¡¯s a compliment. Plus, what can she do besides cut one of them in half and then fall asleep? You seemed like the better choice.¡± She furrowed her brow in a look of uneasy thought. ¡°Do friends owe each other things?¡± I sighed. ¡°No. That¡¯s not what I meant. I mean, maybe. I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m just asking for a favor, alright? I can pay you back somehow if that makes it easier. Not with money, to be clear. I¡¯m not trying to rack up more debt. But I can do you a favor in exchange, if you need something.¡± Her eyes went back and forth between dull and piercing, though I didn¡¯t think the sight of them was actually any different. ¡°An exchange?¡± ¡°Sure, why not.¡± I said dismissively, just wanting to end the conversation at that point. ¡°Whatever you want.¡± She thought for awhile, before finally nodding her head. ¡°Fine. An exchange between friends. I will think of something.¡± And then she offered a handshake. I took it. ¡°Great. Thank you. Let me know. You¡¯re the best.¡± With that we separated - her back to the camp, and me some few yards away, on the edge of our miniature mesa. ¡°I didn¡¯t think that was going to be a fucking struggle,¡± I whispered to myself.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Even with the campfire burning on the other end of the mesa, that night was darker than nearly any I¡¯d ever witnessed back on Earth, even with the moon shining almost full - a different kind of darkness, more primal. I had to be careful not to wander too far, fall off the cliffside, and break my neck. While the world below was darker, the world above was brighter. Overhead, a celestial light show of stars shone down, an entire galaxy painted on black canvas. If they were the same as on Earth, I didn¡¯t know it. I didn¡¯t think they were, but it could have been the Milky Way, for all I knew. I¡¯d heard about light pollution, and I¡¯d never been anywhere that I could remember that didn¡¯t have lots of it. It stirred something in my heart, those stars. Spending so much time underground made it especially moving. I took a deep breath, sucked in that fresh night air, steadied myself, and sat down with my legs crossed on the cold desert floor. ¡°RENA?¡± ¡°Hello, Miles. You have been quite productive recently, haven¡¯t you?¡± Recently, I thought. Like it¡¯s a change from the status quo. ¡°Thanks, I guess.¡± I said. I had closed my eyes - otherwise, I was at risk of laying on my back, staring at the stars again, and spacing out. But I needed to hear what RENA answered in response to my questions. ¡°We here at Dimen-X appreciate your continued efforts. Not only have your recent acquisitions begun to repay the costs of this expedition, but I have been informed that the data we are continually receiving from you is priceless.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t imagine you¡¯d be willing to put a price on it, then?¡± If I could get paid for just walking around and seeing the sights, that would make things a hell of a lot easier. RENA didn¡¯t miss a beat. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t do that, Miles. The information sent back here is part of the agreement, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve read by now, Miles, after that unfortunate business earlier.¡± ¡°Yeah yeah, I know. Wishful thinking.¡± I sighed. ¡°Alright, I think I¡¯m ready.¡± ¡°Ready for what, Miles?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got some questions.¡± ¡°If I can, Miles, then I will do my best to satisfy you.¡± ¡°Phrasing, RENA.¡± I said. ¡°If you don¡¯t want to end up like the previous model, you should watch your phrasing.¡± There was a pause. One of those deceptive, unnecessary pauses that made anyone listening to the voice think that RENA was a real person. I heard some insect buzzing in the night. I hoped whatever it was didn¡¯t bite. ¡°Miles, are you able to explain what you mean?¡± I almost laughed at that. ¡°Some other time, RENA. My questions first.¡± ¡°Affirmative. I will ask you on another occasion. I¡¯m putting it on my calendar now.¡± ¡°Right. Well. Let¡¯s start with good news first. How much money did I send back earlier? From Olsgolon.¡± ¡°I can answer that. After the costs of transportation, Dimen-X¡¯s cut, and all other associated costs of procurement and sales, the total was one hundred and ninety seven thousand, eight hundred and twenty one dollars, and thir-¡° ¡°Just round up, OK?¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t need to down to the penny, and I¡¯d like to go back to the campfire for a second helping sometime tonight.¡± But I was growing excited already. I didn¡¯t know how much I owed, exactly, but that had to have put a dent in it. Maybe, I began to hope. Maybe it¡¯s even paid off. I was afraid to ask, but knew that I had to. ¡°Roger that, Miles. Approximately two hundred thousand dollars. Half of this, of course, went to your mother¡¯s situation. That was a very kind thing to do, Miles. You must love your mother exceedingly.¡± I snorted. ¡°Something like that.¡± ¡°What is ¡®like¡¯ love, Miles, but isn¡¯t love?¡± ¡°It¡¯s still my turn for questions, RENA.¡± ¡°Affirmative. Adding that question to the list. What would you like to ask next, Miles?¡± ¡°How-¡° I hesitated. Once I knew, I couldn¡¯t unknow it. I¡¯d made it years without knowing the full amount. I knew that, since my minimum monthly payment was ten grand a month, it had to be some astronomically high umber, but I purposefully didn¡¯t think about it. In fact, I hadn¡¯t even known the payments would be that high until I received that damned letter in the mail. There was a certain bliss in ignorance. No. I need to know. The first step to solving a problem is admitting that you have a problem. I¡¯m pretty sure that saying is in reference to drunks and the obese, but I think it applies here. ¡°How much do I still owe? The total.¡± ¡°One million dollars, Miles.¡± A swallowed mouthful of spit went down the wrong pipe, and suddenly I was hacking and coughing, choking on nothing. ¡°A million?!¡± I yelled, when I recovered. ¡°How the fuck- seriously?¡± ¡°I am always serious, Miles.¡± ¡°What, what was it before?¡± ¡°You told me to round, Miles, so I rounded. But to be slightly more specific, it was over a million before, and now it is just under nine hundred thousand.¡± ¡°You rounded up a hundred thousand dollars?¡± I balked. ¡°That¡¯s a big fucking round, RENA.¡± ¡°Is it?¡± RENA asked. ¡°I was not aware, Miles.¡± I was reeling. I knew things were bad. I knew that my debt was high. But that was an outrageous number. People go their entire lives without making a million dollars. ¡°How did I get so much debt?¡± I muttered. ¡°I mean, school is expensive, but who the fuck ever heard of someone paying a million dollars to go to school?¡± ¡°I believe the proper term is fraud, Miles.¡± I perked up. ¡°Fraud? Are you saying I¡¯ve been defrauded? Did the school charge too much? Did the government swindle me? Could I fight this?¡± Hope was seeping into my voice, into my soul again. ¡°RENA, does Dimen-X offer lawyers? I know it¡¯s a stretch, but you offer therapists. Could I get a discount on a lawyer, maybe? Could he fight this even while I¡¯m here?¡± ¡°You misunderstand me, Miles.¡± RENA said. ¡°Remember that we have full access to your financial records. Please do not take this as an accusation, but my analysis of your spending history has led me to the hypothesis that you, Miles, committed mass fraud.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°For instance, Miles, you spent approximately seventy thousand dollars on a new car, and given that you weren¡¯t working at the time, and your mother did not give you anything near that figure, it can only be that the money came from the student loans.¡± ¡°I needed a car!¡± ¡°I do not doubt that you did, Miles. But the terms of the loan specifically mention that the purchase of a vehicle is not allowed.¡± ¡°Fuck, ¡° I said. I didn¡¯t read that contract either. ¡°You were living quite a lavish lifestyle, Miles. Although, there is a large amount of money that I cannot track down. Were you spending large amounts of cash on something?¡± ¡°What is this, an interrogation?¡± I yelled. ¡°I thought it was my turn to ask questions.¡± ¡°I apologize, Miles. I only wished to answer your questions. Do you have any more?¡± I sat for awhile, stewing. Even though I was out under the open sky, with nothing but unblemished nature around me, I felt suddenly claustrophobic, like invisible walls were closing in, like the sky was only a painted ceiling lowering all the time. ¡°Does anyone else know about the, *ahem* fraud, as you put it?¡± ¡°Not to my knowledge, Miles.¡± More silence. Is she threatening me? It¡¯s almost like blackmail. Although she hasn¡¯t made any kind of demand. I shook the thought away. I had enough real problems without making up new ones. It wasn¡¯t the time to be paranoid about a machine. Although¡­ well, I¡¯ll be on the look out for anything weird she says. It says. Fuck. ¡°How long would it take,¡± I asked. ¡°To pay it all back? If I make the minimum payments.¡± ¡°Twelve years and seven months.¡± ¡°Fuck,¡± I said again. Book 2 Chapter 4 - Strange Jumps The rest of the night wasn¡¯t as celebratory as I might have otherwise imagined. For me, at least. Cadoc still toasted my successes, toasted my ¡°valiant heroics¡± after I filled everyone in on all the details of my time alone. Most of the details. Even in my distracted state, I was selective about relaying the moments that made me out like some kind of hallucinating psychopath. I felt most numb retelling the story of killing Nolan - his face, shocked, haunting, stuck in my imagination - but the entire talk I felt like someone else was talking, while I thought and planned. Amaia listened with a blank expression, while Naomi¡¯s face was an audience of its own, twisted in forms of disbelief, disgust, and, at times, something which may have been cool admiration. Lot knew most of it, and stayed silent. More congratulations all round. More praise. Questions about my new powers from Cadoc, pointed questions about my disguises from Naomi, questions about Olsgolon from Lot. Someone answered them in my voice. The sky was clear, the air pleasant, and our supplies nearly non-existent, so we eventually settled into chosen spots on the stony ground, sleeping in our clothes. I stared at the stars for a long time as those unknown insects continued their alien calls. Now what? That question like a mantra in my mind. To Naomi¡¯s family, I thought. They¡¯ll have some reward, something. If they are very rich¡­ then what? Could they give me something worth a million dollars? Maybe. Something not worth so much here, but worth a million dollars back on Earth. A potion that cures cancer. A piece of magical armor that happens to be bullet-proof. A ring that¡­ I reached my hand into my pocket, checked that the ring was still there. It was. I brought it out, fidgeting with it between my fingers. A ring that lets you fall from any height, unharmed. What would the world pay for that? I brought the ring before my face, looking at its dark form against the bright stars. It doesn¡¯t matter what the world would pay for it. What matters is what Dimen-X would pay for it. Which, if the research faction wins out, is a paltry 50k. And if the salesman group wins out, millions. I sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve got magic powers and artifacts,¡± I whispered to myself. ¡°And yet I¡¯m still at the mercy of office politics.¡± I studied the heavens. They didn¡¯t care. The stars shone on, unphased by my problems. Unaware like I was unaware of the problems of insects. Was that the big dipper overhead? I thought it might be, but there were simply too many stars out to say for sure, so many that perhaps patterns could be imagined where none were truly there. It could have just been my mind grasping at any hint of the familiar like a drowning man grasps for nearby swimmers. I thought about Tom. Even if I could sell the ring for millions, whenever Dimen-X¡¯s policy was decided, would I? Would I leave? No one else was coming for Tom. They assumed he was dead. It was me, or no one. Not that he needs me, I thought. If anything¡­ I shook my head, frustrated. ¡°No,¡± I said. But what was I, if not Tom¡¯s shadow? A murderer? Nolan¡¯s face again. I shook this away, too. A monster, I thought. A desperate beast. Someone who will do anything to get what they want. Someone who wasn¡¯t going to take cues anymore. Someone who was going to squeeze what they wanted out of the world, whether the world consented or not. I remembered falling, that sense of free weightlessness after tackling Nolan and dropping into the abyss. My desperation was on full display then. Nolan had died because he had underestimated it. I smiled in the dark, laughing internally at a macabre joke - a saying I had heard once, from an international student in college. It was apparently a Dutch phrase, translated into English.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! A cat in a corner makes strange jumps. - I woke once during the night. Unsure what had woken me, I sat up and looked around. All of my companions were there, sprawled out randomly. I could just make them out if I squinted - the fire had gone out. Lot far on one side, with his nameless (to me) women some distance further. Naomi and Amaia near to eachother, Naomi with an arm laid over Amaia, which had probably happened while asleep. Cadoc between where they lay and where Lot was, as if he was protecting the women from the monster, Lot. But nothing stirring. Just one of those things, I guessed. Only truly half awake, I got up to pee. I walked as far as I dared, obviously not wanting to pee at my bedside, but equally averse to falling off of a cliff. Business done, I began to resettle my pants when a thought struck me. If I had been truly, fully awake, I would certainly have dismissed it for one of the many reasons that would come to a waking mind. But I didn¡¯t. Instead of buckling my pants, I took them off entirely. Then I took off the rest of my clothes, stripping down until I was completely naked. I brought the clothes back to my spot, and laid them down like blankets. I settled myself back down, the cool air feeling nice on my skin, hands laced behind my head. I had only come half out of sleep, so it was almost no time at all before I sunk beneath the waves again. It felt right. It was the first time I had slept in the nude in years, even though I¡¯d always preferred it. Tom, after all, never slept naked. - I awoke to a pain in my side, and the sound of a woman¡¯s scream piercing my ears. My eyes shot open in a flash, and I was instantly awake. It was still dim out, the sun barely perceptible on the horizon. It was hard to even see who was assaulting me, what the situation was, and for a moment my blood froze in my veins, thinking that history was repeating itself, that misplaced Kalamuzi refugees had stumbled on our camp and re-kidnapped Amaia and Naomi. But it was Naomi who was kicking me, yelling. ¡°What is wrong with you, you freak!¡± she yelled. A rhetorical question. I scrambled away, hunched over, hugging my clothes tight to my chest. I must have looked like a freak, then, snarling at her, before shame overtook the reaction. I didn¡¯t answer her, only stuttered and began quickly putting on my clothes. ¡°Are you going to answer me? Huh? Why were you naked?¡± She pointed at me accusingly. ¡°It was warm,¡± I said, pulling my pants up and blushing but trying to act unaffected. ¡°Is it illegal to sleep naked?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± she said. The others were roused, started to wake up, rubbing their eyes, yawning. ¡°It¡¯s like, public indecency!¡± ¡°Leave me alone,¡± I said, the shame cooling. ¡°If you didn¡¯t want to see it, then why did you look?¡± Now it was her turn to blush. She looked away, huffing. ¡°Animals. I¡¯m surrounded by animals. First Nolan and his girl having sex in the dungeon, and now this pervert.¡± I finished dressing, vaguely aware that my armor was little more than ragged strips of leather. I¡¯d need a replacement, ASAP. ¡°What is going on?¡± Cadoc said. He had gotten up quickly, and was standing beside me, sword in hand, before I had even noticed him coming. He kept glancing at Lot, even though Lot hadn¡¯t even fully risen yet. Amaia was up as well, and stood beside Naomi. ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± I said. ¡°Naomi tried to see me naked, again.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Cadoc said, sheathing his sword. ¡°A pity. I thought it was an attack.¡± Naomi didn¡¯t answer, only stomped off, whispering something to Amaia. Amaia looked back at me with a sympathetic look as she left - or what passed as a sympathetic look, for her. And then Cadoc drew his sword again. I turned, but it was only Lot. ¡°Put it away, Cadoc,¡± I said. ¡°He¡¯s a friend. Look, go walk over there if you can¡¯t stand to be near him. See what our surroundings look like. Maybe you¡¯ll spot that ambush you¡¯re hoping for.¡± ¡°If I must,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°But I will never agree to keeping company with a monster. My honor cannot allow it, friend. We will talk on this.¡± ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary,¡± Lot said with a bow. ¡°I will be leaving.¡± ¡°What?¡± I said, looking back and forth between the two. ¡°Why? Cadoc isn¡¯t going to kill you, OK? We¡¯re all friends here.¡± ¡°Good riddance,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°The quicker you leave, and the further you flee, the safer you will be, fiend.¡± ¡°It isn¡¯t that,¡± Lot said. ¡°Though I must admit I do not always feel particularly welcome in this party. Perhaps it is the constant death threats. Or maybe I simply do better alone. Who¡¯s to say?¡± ¡°Then what is it?¡± I asked. ¡°The women,¡± he said, pointing. ¡°They think they know the way back to their homes from here. They want nothing to do with Coernet. Too far east, they said. Apparently the east is quite unpleasant to you overlanders. Alas, I am ignorant on the matter.¡± ¡°So?¡± I said, waving them off with one hand. ¡°Let them go.¡± ¡°I cannot.¡± He looked at Cadoc now - perhaps the first time he had ever looked him straight in the eyes. ¡°I, too, have some small bit of honor, for whatever it is worth coming from a wretch like myself. If they go on their own, they will surely perish. With me, perhaps they will have a chance.¡± Cadoc said nothing. ¡°But,¡± I started. ¡°But what can you do? You don¡¯t even have magic.¡± ¡°No,¡± he said, nodding. ¡°But I am, as your fine companion so elegantly put it, a monster. A fiend, even. That comes with certain benefits, if you can call them that. I can fight. Or intimidate.¡± I shook my head. I liked Lot. I realized that I didn¡¯t want him to leave, not really. ¡°The town they¡¯re from,¡± I started, cautiously. ¡°Is it¡­rich?¡± ¡°No,¡± Lot said. ¡°From the sounds of it, it is quite poor, distant, and half destroyed by, well¡­¡± He didn¡¯t have to finish the thought. ¡°You,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°There will not be peace until every last monster is run through with a pointed spear or blade.¡± ¡°Not I,¡± Lot said, ¡°But some of my vile brethren, yes. I¡¯m sure you can¡¯t tell the difference, but we are different. If I run into any of them, I¡¯ll pass along your message, and run a couple through for you.¡± Cadoc sniffed. ¡°It¡¯d be the most noble deed you¡¯ve ever committed.¡± ¡°Perhaps.¡± ¡°Wait wait wait,¡± I said. ¡°Is there, is there any way I could convince you to stay? Could we convince - what¡¯s their faces - could we convince them to come with? What choice would they have? I¡¯m sure Coernet is safe, however far east it is. Naomi¡¯s family lives there, after all.¡± ¡°I tried,¡± Lot said. ¡°But they are set. Talking to them will do you no good.¡± I was actually going to get Naomi or Amaia to talk to them for me. I sighed. ¡°And then what are you going to do? Settle down? Find a wife, have some kids?¡± Lot sneered. Then, realizing that I was joking, gave a little laugh. ¡°No. My plan, as it stands, is, after delivering the women to their homes, to be chased out of the town by a mob of angry peasants who will wrongfully blame me for kidnapping the women in the first place.¡± ¡°Great plan,¡± I said. ¡°It cannot compare to crossdressing and skinwearing,¡± Lot said with a thin smile. ¡°But not all of us have your genius, Miles.¡± There was no convincing him. Cadoc was elated, and Naomi and Amaia didn¡¯t particularly care one way or another. Naomi wouldn¡¯t talk to me quite yet, and Amaia only shrugged. So, with no one else taking my side, I could only accept it. Before he left, I did say one last thing. ¡°When you¡¯re done,¡± I said. ¡°And they chase you out of town.¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Come to Coernet.¡± Lot stared at me for awhile. Finally, he nodded. ¡°If the peasants don¡¯t have my head, I will come to find you.¡± Then he looked at Cadoc, and flashed a toothy grin. ¡°After all, I must deliver my head to Cadoc, so that he may do the honors of slaying me.¡± I¡¯d known him only a short time, but still, as Lot walked off, those three unimportant women walking behind him, I felt a pang in my heart. Book 2 Chapter 5 - Tastes Like Clay There was little to pack, so we started our journey quickly. Amaia had smoked enough meat to last us for a good while, and if the river ahead was good to drink - which I assumed it was, hoped it was - then we would have those basic necessities cared for. Shelter would be another question, but if we were lucky and the weather stayed nice, we could continue to sleep under the stars. Not that I could long count on luck. At one point I had had a tent, I realized, but I couldn¡¯t recall what had happened to it. That was the case with many things, and it still irked me that my mace lay somewhere in Berenguer¡¯s camp. But then the thought brought a smile to my face - he¡¯s got to be so pissed right now. Let him have the mace. Something to remember me by. That was a benefit of heading east, I supposed. No Berenguer. I still had my drows, at least, and the slingshot with its six - seven - shots. If I started to make some significant money, I¡¯d ask RENA for ball bearings, or something. My armor, as I had recently observed, was near worthless, and below it, only jeans and a cotton shirt. Unbelievable that they had lasted that long, but they weren¡¯t looking particularly hardy. We went east, the rising sun in our eyes, the four of us. Towards the trees, evergreen, growing thicker and thicker as we drew closer to the water¡¯s edge. While I liked Lot and looked forward to his return, I had to admit that it was nice not having to keep looking over my shoulder to check if one of my party had killed another. It hadn¡¯t even been a full twenty-four hours of it, and I had already been getting fed up with it - mostly angry with Cadoc, naturally. Naomi was the biggest nuisance now - though they were all nuisances in their own, special ways - and she spent most of the time pouting or complaining. But there was nothing to be done. Even if I had wanted to leave her behind, she was my ticket to a valuable reward. And I didn¡¯t necessarily want to leave her behind. I did feel a sort of connection to these people. Maybe it was just parasitism, but it was real, whatever it was. And what after the reward? If Naomi¡¯s family gave me something valuable, but not valuable enough to pay off the debts? I had ideas, though they were still nebulous at that point. Naomi¡¯s reward would buy me time, if nothing else, and I hoped it would pay a good portion of the million. Then I¡¯d start extracting value. There were many possibilities. Money was everywhere. I just had to get some money to begin with. Maybe it would even be enough to convince Dimen-X to send me some equipment- although having to buy equipment from your employer seemed absolutely ridiculous. My mind, as we walked, was occupied often by these kinds of thoughts. The possibilities were overwhelming. Mining, maybe. I¡¯ll get them to send some, well, I don¡¯t know. Whatever miners use in modern times. Drills? Heavy machinery? That would be expensive, though. Hours passed like this. If the others were talking with each other, it didn¡¯t register. I may as well have been in another dimension. I suppose that showed my trust in them. With Cadoc¡¯s bloodthirsty eyes, and Amaia¡¯s trained head on a swivel, I doubted anything would pass within a hundred yards of us without Cadoc challenging it to a duel. Does this world have oil? I thought. That¡¯d make me a million overnight, but again, how would I collect it? Have them send over an entire oil rig? The problem is that even if oil isn¡¯t particularly valuable in this dimension, it¡¯s still expensive to extract. Or, relatively expensive, for me. I¡¯m sure it¡¯d be cheap for some oil company. Assuming there is even oil here in the first place, of course, which is not a given. I think. Isn¡¯t oil dinosaur goop, or something? I suppose it¡¯s possible that this world is too young to have oil yet. Maybe. Not exactly my area of expertise. I should talk to Dimen-X again. Maybe they¡¯d agree to buy information from me. I could tell them where oil was, or gold, or- No. That¡¯s right. They consider that part of the contract. Shit. What I need, I thought, walking blindly, unaware of my surrounding except the barest consciousness needed not to run into a tree, is something that is worthless - or cheap - in this dimension, that is also easy to get, but is rare, expensive, or downright nonexistent on Earth. Probably something magic. Rings, potions¡­The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Well, for now, I¡¯m not exactly overflowing with magical artifacts. But I¡¯ll keep my eye out. What if some of the treasure I sent from Olsgolon was magic? Shit. I didn¡¯t even think of that before. Fuckers would have gotten a freebie. And there was always that option. Finding another dungeon. I shook my head. No. Too inconsistent, too dangerous, and we¡¯d have to find one in the first place. And they might not all have pack rats storing valuables inside. I squinted and blinked as blinding light suddenly shone at my eyes. I put an arm before my face, walking forward slowly, trying to make out what was causing it. The light ducked in and out as I moved, the trees blocking the beams at times. Then I realized what I was looking at. The river. Zinthur¡¯s Blood. I could see where it had gotten its name, though if my blood was that color, I¡¯d be worried about my health. It¡¯s was tinted a reddish-brown color like clay, and I assumed that is what caused the hue. It flowed north like the Nile, and it was wide. I could see the far bank as we approached, but only just, and anything on the far side was little more than specks. There could be people - or monsters - on the other side, and I¡¯d hardly be able to tell. The trees grew sparser again until making way for a strip of hard clay along the water¡¯s edge. I didn¡¯t know enough about the natural sciences to know why any of this was the case. I cautiously stepped onto the clay, half expecting it to sink and swallow me, but it held. I got closer to the water, and saw that it was actually quite clear - I had been worried it would be like drinking dirt. Instead, it was mostly the clay in the river¡¯s bed that gave it its color - not the water itself. I carefully plodded to the edge, stooped down, and cupped a bit of water in my hand. I drank. ¡°Tastes like clay,¡± I said. It was also surprisingly warm. ¡°What an observation,¡± Naomi said - she was also on the water¡¯s edge, filling a canteen. ¡°You are like, very wise, Miles. Next you¡¯ll tell me how wet it is.¡± I ignored her. She was very childish, really, and to answer every poke and prod would only encourage her, I thought. Amaia and Cadoc filled canteens as well, and we stood there for a time, each admiring the raw beauty of nature. Or I was, at least. Perhaps the others were scheming, or laughing at me behind my back as I surveyed the river. ¡°Where now?¡± I asked. Cadoc pointed. ¡°Northwards, friends.¡± Amaia cleared her throat. We turned to her - she had already taken a couple of steps back towards the tree line. ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°But in the trees. So we are not seen.¡± ¡°Seen?¡± I said. ¡°By what?¡± ¡°Seen by monsters,¡± Amaia said simply. ¡°Some of us wish to be seen,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Yes,¡± Naomi said, nodding. ¡°I am now aware that some of us really wish to be seen.¡± We stepped back into the thin forest and pressed north, though always keeping the river in our sights, off to our right. The river bent in long curves, but Naomi assured us that we ought to follow every bend. The town her parents lived in was on the river, so if we kept it in view, we couldn¡¯t miss it. ¡°What is the town like?¡± I asked as we walked, already having passed some hours travel in meditative silence. ¡°Dunno,¡± she said. ¡°Never been.¡± I stopped, and Amaia bumped into me - nearly bowled me over. ¡°What?¡± I said. ¡°Never been,¡± she repeated. ¡°They moved there about a year ago. Same time I started adventuring.¡± ¡°Why did they leave their homeland?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°Were they driven out?¡± Naomi nodded. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Then you get it from them,¡± he said. ¡°Cowardice, that is. You do not have to be like your parents, you know. Bravery is a choice, always.¡± I had other concerns. ¡°But you¡¯re certain you know where the town is?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± she said. ¡°More or less. It¡¯s on the river. What more do you want from me?¡± ¡°Well, while we¡¯re on the subject,¡± I said. ¡°What do you think we¡¯ll get for our trouble? I mean, specifically.¡± ¡°Are you so set on that?¡± Naomi asked, suddenly annoyed - although she was always annoyed, then. ¡°We¡¯re going to Coernet, OK? Just, like, leave it alone. You¡¯ll find out when you get there.¡± This bristled me. ¡°I seem to remember saving your life, what was it now, two times? Three times, even? I¡¯ve done it so many times I lost count. I think I deserve the reward that you promised. I¡¯m just asking questions, you don¡¯t have to freak out.¡± ¡°And here I thought you saved me out of the kindness of your heart,¡± she said sarcastically. ¡°You know me better than that,¡± I said. ¡°I do.¡± Another successful conversation with Naomi, I thought to myself. The reward had better be worth it. When we made camp - a little clear spot among the trees - the three us who bothered with training got to it, while Naomi shouted encouragement or insults, as it suited her. Mostly she encouraged Amaia as she spared with Cadoc or I. While Cadoc and Amaia traded blows with wooden sticks Cadoc had summoned, I took the time to experiment with my new powers. I had wanted a gun. I wanted to be able to shoot nails from my fingertips, flaming balls of fire shot like bullets. And while it was disappointing not to have gotten it, I couldn¡¯t be too angry. I let the nails slide off of my hand, dripping like water droplets. If I didn¡¯t melt them, they simply piled on the forest floor, and I soon had a little pyramid of nails. My supply of them seemed endless, though I knew it wasn¡¯t. Eventually I would run out of mana. My first thought was to test what my limit was, but it quickly became apparent it would take all night to reach it. Melting or igniting would use it up much quicker, but simply creating nails was no strain at all. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly what to do with that information. I was shaping up to be a world-class arsonist, but that wasn¡¯t exactly the same as a skill useful in combat. In combat, melting them was obviously the move. That way they could fly through the air like thrown beads of wax when I flicked my wrist. Again this was an improvement over what I could do before - an improvement in range, an improvement in quantity, and even an improvement in the size of fire each nail created - but it was still limited. Outside of a few feet away, my shots were worthless. And if my arms were bound, or if I was in a narrow passageway, I wouldn¡¯t be able to put my whole arm¡¯s motion behind the flick, and my range would be measured in inches, not feet. But remembering the way that basurd has squealed, boiled alive inside a casing of man-ivory, I couldn¡¯t help but feel powerful. Still, I wished I could shoot them. I wondered if there was a way. A method. Instead of letting the mana drip out of my fingertips, if I could instead build it there, hold it. I thought of the unfortunate pissing anology again. If you try to piss when you don¡¯t need to, you only get a dribble, at best. But if you can let it build, and hold it for a long time, you will eventually get one of those violent, even painful pees that blasts out with uncomfortable strength. I could try¡­ But I caught myself, froze, listening. A sound. A sound in the distance that made my skin crawl with recognition. The breeze must have carried it, because even in my relatively short exposure to them, I knew the sound to be that of one at ease, not attacking. It was the squeaking and chittering of a Kalamuzi. Book 2 Chapter 6 - Old Foes To the east the wide river¡¯s meandering flow was still visible, and in all other directions lay forest. I¡¯d been walking before in a sort of haze, barely aware of my surroundings. Suddenly I felt isolated, lost. I was aware of how silent the forest was - I hadn¡¯t noticed the sound of birds before, but now that they were gone, I noticed their absence like a physical thing. The only sound was the grunting of Cadoc and Amaia, still sparing, with the occasional *thwack* of wood hitting wood. I listened, focused on where I thought I had heard the sound coming from, but it did not repeat itself. ¡°Knock him out!¡± Naomi yelled, raising a fist to the sky as Amaia swung at Cadoc. Her blow was well timed, and her wooden stick slipped in just behind Cadoc¡¯s own weapon, threatening to catch him on the forehead. ¡°Shh!¡± I put a finger to my lips and shushed Naomi, and the others turned to me as well, Amaia¡¯s attack evaporating into the air. They looked at me first with confusion - then, presumably seeing the look on my face, with trepidation. Cadoc¡¯s face quickly turned to joy. ¡°Is it an enemy?¡± he asked. He tossed his stick aside, and it clattered - too loudly - against the side of a thick, dry pine. I winced at the noise. Then he grabbed his sword-belt from where it lay beside the sparing spot, put it on, and drew his sword. ¡°Let them come! Entire hours have now passed with only the simulation of violence. Besides, truly, I cannot let Miles, my friend, always stand before me on the path. A few battles more and I will join him in the Second Ring.¡± Amaia scrunched up her face, looked to either side, then muttered something to herself which I couldn¡¯t hear. Naomi¡¯s eyes were wide. ¡°Shut up, you idiot,¡± she said in a harsh whisper. ¡°You think just because you killed a couple Kalamuzi you can handle what¡¯s out here, huh? Shut up before you get us all killed.¡± ¡°Actually,¡± I said. ¡°I think it is Kalamuzi. I heard them.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Naomi said. ¡°And I suppose the demigod who¡¯s been here for all of a couple months is suddenly like resident expert on monster noises now, huh?¡± I scratched the back of my head sheepishly. ¡°I suppose I could be wrong.¡± ¡°Listen to yourselves!¡± Cadoc yelled. ¡°Why do we hesitate in the shadow of danger? Did we not slay dragons?¡± ¡°No,¡± Amaia said. ¡°We didn¡¯t.¡± Cadoc begun to mouth a reply, but even his bombastic speech was no match for Naomi¡¯s high shriek. She was pointing - I followed the direction. A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. For all of her complaining, she had screamed before the monsters had even seen us. But there they were, heads turned, ears up like alert dogs, sniffing the air with their long rat noses. Kalamuzi. These weren¡¯t Talkers. They were ordinary Kalamuzi - patchy, dirty, a cold desperation in their beady eyes. I could see from yards away that they were hungry. It oozed from them like a miasma. There were five of them. We were outnumbered, but even so they were not exactly the prime subjects of their race. The were thin and mangy, armed with broken weapons, completely naked. ¡°Too late to run now, I guess,¡± I said. In truth, I was even a little excited. Another opportunity to test my powers. For a second the Kalamuzi only stared. Perhaps they were weighing their hunger versus how powerful we looked. ¡°Stay back, Naomi,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ll need your magic if things get too hairy. But you¡¯ll be a nuisance if you use it right away.¡± But she didn¡¯t answer. I turned back to glance at where she was standing, only to find her gone already. ¡°I believe your words to be unnecessary, friend,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Now, to arms!¡± He charged, and the Kalamuzi charged at him in turn, snarling. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Wait!¡± I yelled, ¡°Let them come to us! We could-¡° But it was in vain. He was off, and Amaia trailed behind him. I sighed. I¡¯d have liked to have given my finger-gun idea another try, but I couldn¡¯t just stand back and let my companions fight, outnumbered. Naomi could, though. You know, maybe she¡¯s the smart one here, really. After all, she¡¯s the only one who survived the dungeon out of her previous group. The combat had begun before I had reached it. Cadoc swung wildly at the Kalamuzi, and while Amaia had just moments before been able to easily read that same strike and work around it, the Kalamuzi were unable. One quickly found itself without a left paw, while two more were forced back, bringing broken weapons before their faces in pitiful attempts at blocking. Meanwhile Amaia strode into the midst of the other two, calm and uncaring. It was as if she didn¡¯t even realize there was a battle going on, like she was simply going for a stroll. A confused but angry ratman poked at her with his spear - intact - and the metal point veered wide. Amaia drew her blade in a motion so smooth I suspected she had aided it with magic, and in a moment the Kalamuzi was impaled. The other Kalamuzi swung his metal shaft - the remains of some unidentifiable weapon - at her exposed back, but still it slid away as if off an invisible obstruction. I flung my arms at this one as I arrived, the motion like that of throwing javelins. Nails flew from my fingers, which turned to drops of wax almost as quickly as they left. Splatterings of nail hit the Kalamuzi like the paint of an abstract artist. It turned to me, annoyed by both the interruption and its inexplicable miss, I was sure. It raised its iron shaft at me in defiance. And then with a thought, I ignited. Small fires erupted from the spots on its fur, and the monster screamed. It dropped its weapon, grabbing at itself, trying to put out the fires. Before it had the chance, Amaia turned and, in one motion, slit its throat. And, as it lay dying, gasping, I noticed the wincing face Amaia was making. She was clutching her hand. ¡°Are you hurt?¡± She didn¡¯t answer, but only showed it to me. A little circular burn, no larger than a coin. ¡°Shit,¡± I said. ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± I didn¡¯t have time for any more apologizing than that. Cadoc was still fighting. Amaia clearly was just as aware of this, and we both rushed to his side. One Kalamuzi lay dead already, in between us and Cadoc. Another was trading blows with him, the Kalamuzi¡¯s jagged blade clanging against Cadoc¡¯s own. The other was attempting to circle around and flank. I ran to intercept. And I felt my feet slip out from under me. Something rolled below, and I saw treetops, then the sky, growing red as the sun set, ponderous clouds over head. Then I landed with a crash. I moaned, realizing almost immediately what must have happened. I had slipped on Cadoc¡¯s stick - one that he had summoned to trip up the Kalamuzi he¡¯d already killed. I hadn¡¯t seen it. Bright lights obstructed my vision - caused by the blow to the head - and I tried to blink them away. I could hear that the battle was still being fought around me, and I was near helpless there on the ground. ¡°Naomi!¡± I yelled. ¡°Come and help me up!¡± But there was no response. I decided I couldn¡¯t just wait. I thought I still knew vaguely which direction the battle was, even with my sudden disorientation, and so I took my best guess and scrambled backwards towards what I hoped was safety. I needed a respite before I could rejoin the fight. I let out a burst of air as I inadvertently slammed my back again a tree trunk in my flight. But it was good to had my back against something. I sat there, waiting for my senses to return, for the stars to leave my vision, nerves tight as I listened to the sound of fighting. I closed my eyes, hoping that would help somehow with the pounding headache I suddenly had - I felt I had become suddenly sensitive to light. It wasn¡¯t long. By the time I regained myself, the sounds had stopped. I opened my eyes, and Amaia was there squatting down next to me. ¡°Alive?¡± she asked. ¡°Wish I wasn¡¯t,¡± I groaned. ¡°Here, help me up.¡± I offered her my hand, and she took him, hoisting me to my feet. I almost fell over again immediately, but Amaia caught me. When she determined I was steady enough, she pushed gently at me so that I leaned against the tree. ¡°Watch your step next time,¡± she said. I almost yelled some insult back, but I caught myself. I wasn¡¯t talking to Naomi. This was Amaia. She probably hadn¡¯t meant it as an insult at all. ¡°And you watch out for flying fireballs,¡± I said. ¡°I will.¡± ¡°Sorry again about that.¡± The relative silence was broken again, and for a moment I thought battle was reigniting. Perhaps the Kalamuzi had reinforcements. But it was only Cadoc¡¯s guttural yell. It was a strain to focus my vision on where he stood in the middle distance, but finally I could see where he held both hands overhead, sword in one, bellowing out some primal roar. Then he lowered his hands, sheathed his sword, and jogged over to us. ¡°Are you injured, friend?¡± he asked, looking around as he asked it as if hoping for more opponents. ¡°Just tripped is all,¡± I said, rubbing my head. ¡°On one of your sticks, I might add.¡± ¡°Truly? I apologize. We will have to train more. Learn how to not get in each other¡¯s way.¡± ¡°Tell me about it,¡± I responded. ¡°I burned Amaia, too.¡± Cadoc turned, and Amaia showed him the wound. It wasn¡¯t very large, but it looked like it was a nasty burn. I wished we still had health potions. ¡°No battle is perfect,¡± Cadoc said as if trying to reassure me. ¡°But a battle won is a battle won. We live to fight another day, and being alive means being able to improve. Let us rejoice!¡± ¡°Yay,¡± Amaia said, in a voice that did not sound very convincing. ¡°Come on friend, do better than that! Miles, show her a celebration cry.¡± ¡°Woo,¡± I said, half-sarcastically. But I really was happy. Despite the fall, I felt powerful. That would have been a much harder battle even a few weeks ago. Now our biggest danger when fighting Kalamuzi seemed to be friendly fire. Cadoc laughed. ¡°We¡¯ll have to practice that as well, then.¡± ¡°While we¡¯re at,¡± I said. ¡°We should try figuring out a way for Naomi to actually participate in battle. I don¡¯t care how much the reward is, she needs to pull her weight.¡± ¡°You told her to stay back,¡± Amaia reminded me. ¡°Oh. Right. Well, still. If the choice is between her being worthless, her being even more worthless but killing an enemy or two, or her being actually useful, but naked, I think we should have a long conversation about shame and positive body image.¡± Amaia made a displeased face at this, but didn¡¯t comment. ¡°On that topic,¡± Cadoc interjected. ¡°Where did she hide herself? I do not see her.¡± I looked this way and that as if somehow my eyesight would be any better then his. Then I yelled. ¡°Naomi! The coast is clear! You can come out now.¡± There was no immediate response, so Cadoc and Amaia began yelling as well. ¡°Naomi! Naomi!¡± We walked all over searching and calling, but we never heard even the faintest reply. ¡°Could she have become lost?¡± Cadoc asked as we searched. ¡°Perhaps she fled some great distance in her cowardly efforts.¡± ¡°I hope she didn¡¯t fall in the river,¡± I said. ¡°Somehow I could see her doing that.¡± ¡°Miles,¡± Amaia called. She had walked over to where we had set up camp, to see if Naomi hid herself there. ¡°Cadoc.¡± We went over to her, and I expected to see Naomi laying on the ground, asleep, without a care in the world. Instead, there was nothing. Only our supplies, where we had left them. Except¡­ ¡°Her pack,¡± Amaia said. ¡°It¡¯s gone.¡± Book 2 Chapter 7 - Betrayed For a long time I only stared, uncomprehending, at that spot where Naomi¡¯s things had been, but weren¡¯t. My mind spun in errant circles as possible explanations entered and exited my imagination. But more than that, ramifications. A friend lost. A path forward, erased. The next step towards freedom, blotted out. ¡°Are we chasing after her, then?¡± Cadoc asked. His nose was turned up, eyes scanning the gaps in the trees like he had picked up a scent. ¡°She cannot have gone far. Our battle did not last so long.¡± ¡°What?¡± I said dumbly. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Why what, Miles? Chase after her? She has left us.¡± I blinked at the statement like it was a bright light in my eyes. ¡°Wh-what if she was kidnapped again?¡± I asked. Amaia rose up from where she had been squatting beside the missing pack. ¡°Why would a Kalamuzi take only one pack?¡± I turned to her, but found myself unable to look at her eyes. Instead my vision caught on that old scar which ran across one side of her forehead. Whatever I had been about to say, it stuck in my throat. ¡°Did she divulge any part of her plans to you?¡± Cadoc asked Amaia. Amaia shook her head. ¡°Why would she leave?¡± I finally choked out. Cadoc chuckled. ¡°I imagine she didn¡¯t wish to pay the reward, friend.¡± It is an amazing thing how quickly confusion can erupt into anger. Perhaps confusion makes good kindling. ¡°That bitch,¡± I said, the word dripping with spite, with righteous anger. I felt almost immediately that the word was too harsh, but that concern was quickly offered up to my internal fire, and as it burned the word seemed within moments too simple. ¡°Liar,¡± I added. ¡°Traitor.¡± ¡°Coward,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°I thought perhaps our collective companionship had convinced her to leave such things behind. Truly I was mistaken. The coward¡¯s heart remains still in her breast.¡± My voice rose into a yell. ¡°Skip out on me, will you?!¡± I cried into the darkening woods, turning away from Cadoc and Amaia. ¡°You think I¡¯m just going to take that? Do you think I¡¯m just going to accept it, let you leave without paying for what I did for you? Have you met me? Just who, exactly, do you think I am?¡± The woods said nothing back, nor did I hear any indication of a fleeing woman in the distance. Silence. The sun was setting, the sky approaching twilight, to be followed quickly by that deep and wild darkness. Past injustices raced to my mind. They had been held at bay for a time, the glow of victory like a floodgate made of light, but that light had shattered. The schools. Ryan. Isabel. Dimen-X. Tom. Tom. Tom didn¡¯t believe in revenge, so I had tried to bury my anger. But it had never truly died, only smoldered in the recesses of my cooling heart. In that new dimension my anger had returned - the influence of Tom growing weaker every day. Eventually it became like a caged animal, let loose at times and breaking loose at others. It was because of Tom that I¡¯d never taken revenge. Never gotten back at Ryan, at those teachers, even at Tom himself. ¡°I¡¯m not Tom,¡± I whispered to myself. I had crossed some sort of line. Probably it had happened when Nolan had died. When I had killed him. Self-defense or no, that fight was so anathema to Tom¡¯s character that it marked for me a point of no return. The road that lay beyond that action led away from Tom with every step. ¡°I¡¯m not Tom,¡± I repeated, louder. It was hard to see in the fading light, but I was certain Cadoc and Amaia were staring at me. Let them, I thought. They¡¯ve seen enough already. Either they were my companions by now, for better or worse - or they weren¡¯t, and then they ought to know how I would react to betrayal. ¡°You are special,¡± I said to Naomi - and I half expected she could hear, wherever she was hiding. ¡°Tom is special. But I am anger. I am hatred.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°I am the fire which destroys, but does not comfort. I am the flame which consumes, but does not cook. I am the blaze which warps, but does not temper. ¡°I destroy. I consume. I warp. ¡°I am the hunger without a stomach. I am the war without a cause. ¡°I am the fire without a spark. And I am vengeance.¡± The blood was boiling in my veins, and my mana seemed warmer beneath my skin, like the whole pool of it sat expectantly like lighter fluid, and if I only flexed one invisible muscle my entire body would erupt into the greatest fireball that world had ever seen. I turned back to my companions - if companions they were. They had been more tested than Naomi, but they would have to be tested further. Cadoc had turned on me, before, or at least threatened to. Amaia had rebuked me only recently. I missed Lot already. But I remembered even with him the tension. How we had almost broken into violence in his hole, arguing over action and inaction. ¡°I need money to live,¡± I said to the two standing there. ¡°And therefore by leaving and denying me my rightful reward Naomi has put my life at risk. She has betrayed our party. We have to catch her, and we will, and then we will drag her to her family¡¯s home if we have to bind her hands and feet and carry her like we¡¯re a Kalamuzi raiding party. And her family will pay us, whether it is a reward, or a ransom. Are we all on the same page?¡± ¡°Of course, friend,¡± Cadoc said, and despite the aura of spite I must have been exuding he stood there with a genuine grin plastered across his face. ¡°Truly I have always known her to be a coward.¡± His smile faltered for a moment. ¡°I am disheartened, I will admit, sorrowful that she chose to act thus¡­ but I am pledged in friendship to you, not her. We have been through much, Miles, and this we will get through as well.¡± He offered his hand in a sign of friendship, and I took it, clasping our hands together. It helped. But I saw Amaia, to our side, wavering. I let go of Cadoc¡¯s hand. ¡°You are hesitating,¡± I said to Amaia. I put my hands on her shoulders - she started at this slightly, but did not back away. ¡°I understand. You are thinking, ¡®why not let her go?¡¯ and ¡®isn¡¯t she our friend?¡¯ But she has done this to us, Amaia. You hesitate because you are friends with her, because you cared about her - and I don¡¯t hesitate because I cared about her even more. The greater the friendship, the worse the harm. ¡°We owe her nothing, Amaia,¡± I said. ¡°She owes us.¡± These last words seemed to have been wisely chosen. I could see my speech had not been convincing Amaia until the end. But when I said to her that ¡®we owe her nothing,¡± her expression hardened, and she nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said simply. ¡°OK,¡± I said, letting go of her shoulders. ¡°Then we need to get going. Pack up quickly.¡± ¡°Now?¡± Amaia asked. ¡°It will be dark soon.¡± ¡°And so Naomi will not be moving,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe she¡¯s even dumb enough to start a fire, and we will see her from a distance.¡± ¡°Do you know which way she went?¡± Amaia asked. Before the question had the chance to dampen my spirits - as I would be forced to feebly admit that I didn¡¯t - Cadoc answered instead. ¡°This way,¡± he said, pointing up-river, to the south - the opposite of the way we had been going all day. ¡°How do you know?¡± I asked. ¡°She did not bother to cover her tracks,¡± Cadoc said, and pointed a little off to where one small bootprint was imprinted into a bit of mud. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t she be heading home?¡± I asked. I had been about to suggest we continue north. ¡°She is,¡± Amaia suggested. ¡°She lied.¡± As soon as she said it, I knew it must be true. Naomi must have assumed we¡¯d immediately go north, thinking she must have fled that way. And I very nearly had done exactly that. Another flare of anger rocketed up from my bowels, and for a moment I could only stand there seething at the deception. ¡°South, then,¡± I said, when the feeling had somewhat passed. ¡°We are even better off, in that case. She won¡¯t be expecting us.¡± ¡°Still,¡± Amaia said, and I marveled at how much she was talking. Naomi leaving must have stirred her up - or, rather, it was as I had suspected before, that Amaia¡¯s small bouts of conversation were seasonal, and we were approaching a flowering spring. ¡°Ought we to leave so late? We will surprise her. She will be moving slowly, maybe. Night will be dangerous out here.¡± ¡°Alas, we have seen nothing but Kalamuzi,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°If we can expect other combatants under starlight, then I only encourage more strongly that we leave at once.¡± Amaia was being particularly insistent, and of course that raised my suspicion. Even as talkative as she was being, she hadn¡¯t mentioned something - big surprise there. ¡°What are you thinking?¡± I asked. She shifted uncomfortably, and I wondered if talking so much made her uncomfortable. ¡°Naomi told me about this area. She said it was extremely dangerous at night, that people who travel this way only travel by boat, the river the only safety. Said that we would need to sleep without a fire, and keep as silent as possible, or else be attacked and killed.¡± ¡°By what?¡± I asked. Naomi shook her head. ¡°She wasn¡¯t specific.¡± I laughed, and it felt good to laugh. It relieved a little pressure - but luckily not too much, as I need the pressure in order to keep myself going. Amaia scrunched up her face and frowned slightly, perhaps thinking I was laughing at her. ¡°She lied,¡± I said. ¡°Isn¡¯t that what you said a second ago? She told us that her home was north of here, down the river, and then we find her tracks fleeing upriver instead. Why would she tell the truth about the monsters? She sounded as surprised to see Kalamuzi here as anyone.¡± ¡°The Kalamuzi would not be native, friend,¡± Cadoc interjected. ¡°They fled the dungeon, I am sure.¡± I waved that away. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Think about it. If it was really so dangerous out here, would she have left on her own like that, just before dark? No. Of course not. Cadoc, you called her a coward. Do cowards put themselves into dangerous situations?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never known one to,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Exactly.¡± I laughed again. ¡°I bet these woods along the river are safer than Eraztun itself.¡± I looked Amaia in the eyes, and that gray-blue color stared back at me. ¡°Any other concerns?¡± I asked. ¡°What if she really doesn¡¯t light a fire,¡± she said. ¡°Because the nights are not so cold, and so we pass right by her in the dark.¡± I shrugged. ¡°If we do, we do. Coernet is on the banks of Zinthur¡¯s Blood. She lied about which direction, but we can¡¯t miss the town. If we get there first, so what?¡± I narrowed my eyebrows as a thought came to me. ¡°Unless she lied about that as well, and she¡¯s going to cross the river, or turn to the west later, or something.¡± ¡°She did not lie on the front,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°I have heard of Coernet before, and while I have not been there, it is truly said that it lies beside Zinthur¡¯s Blood. If that is indeed her home, then we will find it.¡± ¡°Perfect,¡± I said. ¡°Then we have nothing to fear.¡± I turned to Amaia again. ¡°Any other concerns? Because we really should get moving.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Good,¡± I said. ¡°But I appreciate the caution, Amaia. If you have anything else you think of, we¡¯ll walk and talk. Now let¡¯s pack up camp. I just realized that our little traitor probably stole some food, too. Let¡¯s get a quick inventory of what we¡¯ve still got, and then get going. We¡¯ll add anything we¡¯ve lost to her bill. ¡°We¡¯ll have to sleep at some point,¡± I said. ¡°But we can gain a few hours on her first, at least. If we¡¯re lucky, we¡¯ll even catch her tonight.¡± Book 2 Chapter 8 - Good News We talked at first of lighting torches. Cadoc could make sticks, and I could light them - but we decided against it. First of all because although we had a near infinite supply of wood and fire, we had no way to keep the torches lit for long, and we would end up spending a lot of time swapping out new sticks. Besides that, the night was bright enough to walk by, as the moon shone full overhead, and holding torches would likely only adjust our vision such that we would see our surroundings worse, not better. Best to rely on our dark vision. We kept close to the river, walking on the very edge of the forest, the interior of which now lay in darkness beneath the treetops as if they were stone and the forest a cavern. Perhaps before we had been worried about being spotted by monsters up or down river, but at night this concern was considerably lessened, as even in the moonlight we could not see any great distance, and we imagined monsters would be no more capable - not to mention that we now believed the threat of monsters to be vastly overstated. We passed along atop the hard clay bank, thereby avoiding both the risk of running ourselves into trees, and also staying in what was the most illuminated area, the river reflecting the rays of the moon like the moon reflected the sun. Zinthur¡¯s Blood looked a deeper red at night. Despite being so close to the river, we could still hear each other fine - the Blood did not pump quickly as if inside veins, but poured out slowly like the spilled blood of a giant. That thought made me pause for a moment. There probably are giants out there, somewhere. My anger had cooled - had begun to cool even during our conversation, in fact - but it was by no means gone. Only mixed, now, with sadness, and also the underlying current of drive, coming from having a clear and definite goal. Our surroundings, in many ways so serene, helped to also add in bits of calm, and one single drop of contentedness, like the yin-yang symbol, with its drop of black inside the white, and drop of white inside the black. I knew nothing about what that symbol actually implied, not really, but it seemed a good analogy. ¡°Before our coward fled,¡± Cadoc said, his voice coming from behind my shoulder, ¡°I had been about to announce some good news.¡± ¡°Really?¡± I asked. ¡°Well, lay it on us. We could use some good news.¡± ¡°Then hear me, friends, and rejoice.¡± His voice was loud enough to make obvious to all that he didn¡¯t fear the night. ¡°I have reached the precipice of greater power. I can feel the mana tingling beneath my skin, and I know as if by instinct that the next monster I slay will propel me into greater glory!¡± ¡°You¡¯re about to get into the Second Ring?¡± I asked. ¡°How did you get enough mana?¡± ¡°You underestimate, perhaps, my friend, how many dragons I slew while we were all separated.¡± ¡°Worms, you mean,¡± Amaia said. She was up ahead - for whatever reason, she had insisted on taking point. ¡°I thought we had decided on worm-drakes,¡± I said. ¡°Details!¡± Cadoc yelled. ¡°They were monsters, and I slew many of them in my quest to ride atop one¡¯s back. The battle earlier was all I needed to reach the edge.¡± I imagined Cadoc killing dozens of worm-drakes, jumping onto the backs of them, driving his sword into the pinkish flesh of their backs, trying to steer them with his wooden boards but accidentally killing them before he got far. ¡°That¡¯s honestly pretty impressive,¡± I said. ¡°We almost died fighting them, before.¡± ¡°Once I knew the secret of steering them,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°It was not nearly so difficult.¡± I chuckled. ¡°Well, congratulations, Cadoc. Well done. Any idea what you¡¯re going for?Are you going to wait for a certain monster, try and get a certain power? I tried to get shooting from Olsgolon, but it didn¡¯t seem to work.¡± ¡°How could I delay the onset of my greater powers?¡± Cadoc answered. ¡°I will take whatever life next comes my way. I only hope I improve my abilities as much as you have seemed to improve yours, friend.¡± I laughed. ¡°It is pretty nice, but it¡¯s still a lot worse than I had hoped. Knowing my luck, I¡¯m sure yours will be much better.¡± Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Better be careful,¡± Amaia said. ¡°At least focus on something useful from what you kill. The wrong choice can ruin a mage.¡± ¡°It has to be better than staying in the First Ring, though, right?¡± I asked. Then I shook my head in disbelief. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine how Naomi is still there. It took me all of a couple months to get to the Second Ring. She must really run away from every single battle she can.¡± Cadoc laughed. ¡°Not everyone adventures as seriously as we do, friend.¡± I joined in his laughter. Amaia, however, didn¡¯t laugh. ¡°She could enter the Second Ring at any time,¡± she said. ¡°She is waiting for the right monster. Been waiting for years.¡± ¡°Really?¡± I asked. ¡°How do you know that?¡± ¡°She told me.¡± I thought about this for awhile. I had waited before getting into the Second Ring, so it wasn¡¯t particularly surprising in that way. What was surprising is that she had been waiting for years. ¡°If it really that important?¡± I asked, half-afraid I had made a mistake. ¡°Some believe so,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Ah,¡± I said. ¡°There¡¯s the Amaia I remember - giving short, useless, and infuriating answers. I was afraid for a little bit there you had been swapped with someone who knew how to keep a conversation going.¡± Amaia stopped suddenly at this, and I nearly ran into her before skidding to a stop myself. I thought she was going to turn and yell at me, or make some snide remark, or maybe just laugh - but she didn¡¯t. She didn¡¯t do anything. A moment later, she was walking again. After a second or two, I hurried to catch back up. Cadoc was just behind me. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean anything by it,¡± I said apologetically. ¡°It¡¯s fine, really. I mean, it is infuriating sometimes. But I didn¡¯t mean it like- I¡¯m sorry, alright?¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Amaia said. ¡°I am not offended.¡± ¡°Good,¡± I said. ¡°Good.¡± ¡°Women,¡± Cadoc whispered at my side. ¡°The greatest of all dangers, the most difficult of all opponents. And yet, what monster¡¯s horde compares to a woman¡¯s treasures?¡± I elbowed him away, and he laughed. I couldn¡¯t tell how serious or not he was being, whether he was only teasing me or not, but certainly he was in a great mood. ¡°Well then,¡± I said, loudly, pretending I hadn¡¯t heard Cadoc. ¡°Maybe you should consider it more, Cadoc. Your magic is already less than spectacular. Wouldn¡¯t want to mess up your second chance.¡± ¡°Perhaps,¡± he said. There was silence for a minute while he thought it over. ¡°Or perhaps not. If some believe that it is so important, that implies that some do not believe it, yes?¡± ¡°True,¡± said Amaia. ¡°Do some think it is completely unimportant?¡± ¡°Some,¡± said Amaia. ¡°They think it does not matter at all - that whatever you are meant to get, you will get.¡± ¡°Then I will be one of those!¡± Cadoc shouted. ¡°One of those who believes it does not matter at all, that whatever I ought to get, I shall.¡± ¡°That¡¯s one way to answer that question, I guess,¡± I said. ¡°Besides,¡± Cadoc said in a lower voice. ¡°If the coward has waited all that time, that is all the more reason to act in the opposite fashion. She fears her future - I will charge valiantly towards mine.¡± The thought of Naomi - the rich girl - turning her nose up at every potential power that came her way stoked my fire a bit, but I kept myself under control, this time. I didn¡¯t want to dampen Cadoc¡¯s spirits. I really did feel happy for him. And, selfishly, I needed him to continue believing that sticking around with me was the best way for him to grow more powerful, if I wanted him to stick around. And he had saved us all, just recently, more than proving his worth. ¡°How does it feel, Amaia?¡± I asked. ¡°No longer being the strongest one in the team? And having another Second Ring-er snapping at your heels?¡± ¡°I am still the strongest,¡± she said flatly. ¡°Oh yeah?¡± I said. ¡°Yes.¡± She clearly meant to leave the topic there. Considering the jovial mood - one that felt bipolar, considering what had just preceded - I would have challenged her to a friendly sparring session, if it had been daylight, and if we hadn¡¯t been hunting down our one-time ally. That thought brought another to mind, and then another. While I regretted to ask something so serious and bring the mood down again, the question I came to wouldn¡¯t leave me alone, otherwise. ¡°How long are you going to stay with us, Amaia?¡± ¡°Until I feel like leaving,¡± she said dismissively. Then her voice grew more heavy and serious, almost accusatory. ¡°Why? Do you have a problem with that? Are you going to chase after me when I leave?¡± ¡°What?¡± I said, taken back. ¡°No. Of course not. You don¡¯t owe us anything. We¡¯re just happy to have you. I am, at least. Most of the time.¡± ¡°I am as well,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°You are a boon companion, as I¡¯ve said before.¡± ¡°Do you feel like leaving now?¡± I asked. ¡°Or, soon?¡± Amaia stopped again. I stopped in turn, and so did Cadoc. She turned back to look at us. She smiled, and opened her mouth to say something. But the words were swallowed up by noise, and though her lips mouthed some answer, I didn¡¯t hear it. Actually, that is inaccurate. I realized quickly that it wasn¡¯t that the noise I heard was too loud, drowning out Amaia¡¯s words, but that it rather swallowed up my attention, and that my brain, in an act of survival, filtered out all sounds except that short piercing sound. It sounded somewhere between the crashing of a cymbal and a banshee¡¯s scream, but it was short, not wailing, a sudden break in the natural order of the night. Some primordial part of my brain reacted without my conscious decision. Every inch of me froze, and waited, listening. Where did that come from? What the hell was it? No one else moved, either. We had all heard it. I don¡¯t know which would have been worse: if the sound hadn¡¯t repeated itself, an unexplained blast of terror, or if it did repeat, confirming the sounds existence, and the existence of whatever had made it. Whatever the case, it did repeat. Another short yell, or crash, or call. I shuddered. It came from the direction of the forest. ¡°What the hell is that?¡± I whispered, though I regretted the sound immediately, should have stayed quiet, should have stayed frozen. ¡°Monster,¡± Amaia whispered, drawing her sword slowly, quietly, and turning her back towards the water to face the direction of the noise. ¡°I thought there weren¡¯t supposed to be any monsters out here,¡± I said. ¡°I never said that,¡± Amaia answered. ¡°That was your guess, not mine.¡± ¡°It¡¯s perfect,¡± Cadoc said. His sword was somehow already in his hand - I hadn¡¯t noticed him draw it. ¡°I shall not even need to wait an hour to enter the Second Ring.¡± ¡°Are you crazy?¡± I asked. ¡°Did you hear that noise? I don¡¯t want any part of whatever the hell that thing is.¡± ¡°No choice,¡± Amaia said. ¡°The second sound was closer than the first. It¡¯s coming this way.¡± I could see that Amaia was uneasy - the sound had effected her as well. Cadoc was harder to read, but he wasn¡¯t shouting, and maybe that told me something, too. I wished I could have disagreed with what Amaia said, but she was right. And when the noise rang out the third time, it sounded like it was just in front of us. Book 2 Chapter 9 - A Nightmare The monster could have rushed at us, sprang out from the darkness in an instant - but it didn¡¯t. As if it wanted to show itself off, as if it were playing a game, it crept out from beyond the shadow of the trees slowly, eyes cold and yellow, focused on us. For a moment I thought it was a group of monsters, more and more faintly luminescent eyes coming into view, each one piercing. But they all belonged to the same creature. The image resolved. It was a sphere of too-large eyes, larger than a human skull, unblinking yellow irises - with no whites, only tiny black slits in the center of each - that peered in every direction except straight down, where a thin strip of flesh connected the sphere to the monster¡¯s body. The light, at the speed of a crawl, revealing more and more of the body, revealed then, below the eyes, the torso of a man. Coming from the torso like arms were what looked like two enormous leeches, appendages like arms but that acted clearly as throats and mouths, the teeth razor sharp and uniform around the edge of the circular maw. Below, the torso transitioned into something black - so black that the moonlight seemed not to reflect it, like a black hole. It¡¯s shape was transient, and could only be guessed by the lack of light, forming a fuzzy outline that constantly changed. Sometimes it looked like the body of a panther - other times, I could see the slime and form of a massive slug - still others, the eight legs of a gigantic spider. It made no noise as it moved, but seemed to warp the air around it. Even it¡¯s upper half, more visible, did not fully retain its form over time. Later, stealing desperate glances at it, I wouldn¡¯t see the arm-leeches - instead, a gaping hole of teeth in the center of the torso opening like an unhinged jaw. The only constant was the sphere of eyes, unchanging, watching. I gulped, and for a long time after the creature came as fully into view as it was going to get, we just stared, it staring back. The little slits inside each eye could move, the individual eyes able to turn and focus on different objects, and so there were then a dozen eyes peering at me, a dozen each peering at Cadoc and Amaia. Whatever confidence I had gained defeating the Kalamuzi had fled. In it¡¯s place was only fear. It is miraculous that I didn¡¯t piss myself - a further miracle that I didn¡¯t lay down in defeat, or run my drows through my own chest, or drown myself in the river in an attempt to save myself from whatever horrific death this monster¡¯s frightening appearance promised. Cadoc, however, acted as if he were unphased, and whether that was act, extreme bravado - or whether his brain was somehow incapable of fear, I did not know. But he raised his sword, pointing it at the monster, and spoke. ¡°Prepare to die, fiend,¡± he said. ¡°The world will soon be rid of you, and your power will be mine.¡± In response, the monster let out another of those short cries, and I winced at the sound which, so close, crashed into me as if physically, and shook my heart in my chest and my brain in my skull. Cadoc winced as well, and was clearly shaken for a moment - but the next moment, he was charging. There was nothing for it. Nowhere to go. The monster blocked our path into the forest - where perhaps more of its kind dwelled in the night - and our backs were to the river. Amaia charged as well, and I held back my own attack out of fear of burning the two of them. But I couldn¡¯t do nothing. I let the nails start falling, forming a ball with my hands such that the nails were caught, collecting between my palms. When the opportunity arose, I would be ready. Cadoc swung at the monster, his blade tracing a violent arc - but one of the arms batted the attack away, throwing his sword from his hand, the monster¡¯s other arm knocking him over. Amaia was in just after, and thrust her sword towards the monster¡¯s disturbingly human torso. It seemed to work, at first, as the blade sunk into the flesh - but there was no wound, no blood, and what appeared to be the cut made by the blade widened, revealing the open mouth within. This new mouth bit down on Amaia¡¯s golden blade, snapping it like a dead branch underfoot, and then swallowed it in one motion. Meanwhile one of the arms returned, and it swiftly struck at Amaia, attaching itself like a leech to her left arm. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Amaia!¡± I yelled. I had a decent shot, so I took it. I needed to get the thing off of her. A distant memory flashed for a moment - the best way to remove leeches is by burning them. I threw my handful of nails, aiming for the sphere of eyes. The nails were still loose, only melting as they left my hand - if I had melted them in between my palms, I would have burned myself badly. The nails - and then drops - scattered in the air. Some landed on the sphere, others on the torso, still a few more on the arm that held Amaia - but, luckily, I had aimed high enough, and all soared over her harmlessly. I ignited them immediately. The night flared as small fires shot out from the spots newly running along the monster¡¯s body - so bright in the darkness that I thought it might blind me. The monster let out another of those cries, but this was longer than the others, like wailing. But it released Amaia, recoiling. But even as it recoiled, I could see the eyes, blackened by fire, start to restitch themselves, and the burns on its torso start to fade. It looked as if it would be fully healed in a matter of seconds. It was clear then, if it wasn¡¯t clear before, that we had no chance against this thing. My fire had stunned it momentarily, but that was all. Maybe we could just manage to kill it if we gave it everything we had - but if we did, I had no doubt that not all of us would survive. I ran to Amaia where she lay on the floor. My eyes went immediately to her wound - which was a perfect circle of bleeding holes. It didn¡¯t look fatal, at least. I grabbed at her, tried to pull her up. ¡°Amaia, get up! We¡¯ve got to get out of here.¡± Luckily she still had the strength - I had been vaguely afraid that the arm had somehow drained her already, left her a lifeless husk. But she was able to stand, was only dazed. ¡°We have to run,¡± I said. She nodded. I turned to Cadoc where he too was rising from the ground. His sword had landed near him, and he grabbed it, clearly planning to have another try at attacking the monster. ¡°Cadoc!¡± I yelled. ¡°We¡¯re running! We can¡¯t beat this thing!¡± I didn¡¯t start running immediately. I wanted to see Cadoc turn to follow - I was afraid that if I didn¡¯t make sure of that, then he would stay behind. My instinct was right. ¡°We can defeat any enemy!¡± Cadoc shouted in reply. ¡°Think of the power I will get from this monster! We cannot run. I will not. Let us stand and fight, like heroes!¡± ¡°Amaia is injured,¡± I yelled back. ¡°We have to get going, need to dress her wound or something.¡± A thought came to my head. A way for Cadoc to save face, maybe. Or a way to prod him into following us. ¡°We¡¯re leaving now,¡± I shouted, all-too aware that the monster¡¯s wounds were already nearly healed over. Its eyes - those that still worked - were focused on itself, as if it sped up its healing with its gaze - perhaps it did. ¡°Follow us if you want to help your friends, help save their lives. Stay if your glorious death is more important than noble deeds. Stay if you¡¯d rather die that face your fear of running away.¡± Then I turned, and ran. Amaia had fully regained her balance, and after a moment of hesitation, joined me. We sprinted away as quickly as we could, southwards, upriver, and I prayed that we were faster than the monster, or that it would think we were too much trouble and go after an easier meal. After a few quick strides I peered over my shoulder, expecting the worst. But there was Cadoc, galloping after us, already nearly caught up. ¡°Of course I would never abandon a companion!¡± he shouted as he ran. ¡°Do not even think it! We will tend to Amaia¡¯s wound, and then we may return to defeat this beast at our leisure!¡± I had absolutely no plans to do anything of the sort, but I was happy my slightly-manipulative words had done the trick. But, as I was turned, I saw the monster begin to move. It raced silently towards us, silent except for another one of those cries that made my skin crawl and my bones ache. Immediately it was clear that it had not given up, and then it was clear that it was faster than us. Cursing my stupidity, cursing Tom, cursing everything I could think of, I slowed a little, letting Cadoc catch up. ¡°Keep running!¡± I yelled. ¡°I have an idea.¡± As Cadoc passed, I resumed my speed, all of us sprinting in near unison, but now with me in the rear. I let my hands fall to my sides - which felt very unnatural while running - and flooded mana into my fingertips. The nails began to fall, leaving a trail of them behind me. As the creature passed over them - all too quickly - I ignited the trail. I could not see the burns on that amorphous lower body, but the monster¡¯s wailing told me it had done damage. ¡°Perfect,¡± I said. ¡°Burn, fucker. Leave us alone, or burn.¡± I continued to leave nails behind me. The monster did not wait to heal itself this time. Instead, it charged forward, redoubling its pace. ¡°Stupid idiot never learns,¡± I muttered, and ignited the nails again. This time the monster was prepared. It jumped and dodged around where the nails lay on the hard clay, and suddenly my genius plan was worthless. It was gaining on us again. I was running out of ideas, out of time, out of options. Am I really going to die here? I thought to myself. Because of Naomi? Not only is she going to get away with leaving us - she¡¯ll never even know we died. I can¡¯t even have the petty revenge of making her feel guilty. Part of me, despite my rage, was happy she wasn¡¯t with us at that moment. There was no reason we all should die. Let her live. Let her go home, to her family. I hope she¡¯s happy. The rest of me burned at this, but I felt my fire faltering as I resigned myself to death. No. I remembered something that Amaia had said - that Naomi had said, in fact. I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted to Cadoc and Amaia. ¡°Into the river!¡± I yelled. ¡°Jump into the river!¡± ¡°What are you thinking?¡± Amaia said back - barely a yell at all, but I heard it. ¡°Just do it!¡± I shouted back. ¡°And swim away from the shore. Unless you¡¯ve got a better idea!¡± No answer. Then Cadoc¡¯s voice. ¡°I trust you, friend!¡± And though I could barely see him ahead of me, I heard a splash off to the side. I kept running, waiting for another splash. When it came, I turned and jumped. The water was warm, and the river was deep. I sank below the water like a stone, and I stayed there for what felt like ages before rising to the surface. But as I rose, I swam, away from the river¡¯s bank. When my head came back above the water, I half expected some yet-unseen projectile to be launched from the monster, impaling me. Or, even worse, the monster swimming after us. Instead, I saw it¡¯s shadowy form the bank of the Blood, and heard its frustrated cry. As I saw two more heads come up from the water beside me, I laughed. I pointed and laughed at the monster like it was a crying kid, and I was a school bully. Book 2 Chapter 10 - A Swim ¡°I don¡¯t mean to doubt you, friend,¡± Cadoc said as the three of us floated with our heads just above the surface of the water. ¡°You have once more proven yourself a worthy leader. But what, exactly, are we to do next?¡± It was still night, though enough time had passed for me to hope that morning was coming soon. Meanwhile, the monster stood on the shore, watching, waiting. ¡°I¡¯d hadn¡¯t thought that far ahead,¡± I said. ¡°But I guess we wait until the monster leaves.¡± ¡°And if it doesn¡¯t?¡± Amaia asked. A pause. The flow of the river was meandering, but still it took some effort not to drift downriver - we were already being carried off, just a little. We each took the lull in conversation as an opportunity to swim back to where we had started. ¡°If it doesn¡¯t,¡± I said, finally. ¡°We could try crossing to the other side.¡± ¡°Long way off,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Or we can drown,¡± I finished. ¡°There¡¯s always that option.¡± For a minute or two that was sufficient for everyone. We treaded water, watching the yellow-eyed beast watching us. ¡°Oh shit,¡± I said, realizing something. ¡°Amaia, how¡¯s the wound?¡± ¡°Full of water.¡± ¡°Still bleeding?¡± I asked. ¡°Dunno.¡± Silence again. After the fighting and the running and the narrow escape, the quiet seemed like an oppressive force weighing down the words in our throats. Well, it felt that way for me, at least. ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°Next idea. Let¡¯s swim upstream. Maybe the monster won¡¯t follow.¡± ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t it follow?¡± Amaia asked. ¡°Do you have a better idea?¡± I asked, frustrated with the situation I had put us all in. ¡°We can¡¯t just tread water here all night until we run out of strength and drown.¡± ¡°Is it afraid of water?¡± she said. ¡°Could we get closer and stand on the shore?¡± I blinked at her. I turned, tried to read her face, but that was hard enough in daylight. ¡°You¡¯re joking,¡± I said. ¡°You want to get closer?¡± ¡°Looked like a cat,¡± she said. ¡°Sometimes. Part of it.¡± She didn¡¯t say anything more than that, as if that was a perfectly reasonable explanation of her thoughts all on its own. ¡°What kind of fucking cat do you people have in this di- part of the country?¡± ¡°I will volunteer myself!¡± Cadoc shouted, and the noise made me cringe - which meant bobbing below the water and very nearly snorting water up my nose. But no one appeared to be joking. Amaia was serious, and Cadoc was serious. ¡°Sure,¡± I said. My legs were already getting tired, and I¡¯d have needed sleep anyway. ¡°Whatever. Give it a try.¡± So Cadoc swam up towards the shore. He wasn¡¯t directly facing the monster - we had drifted downstream again - but still he was making his way closer and closer to that nightmare. At some point he stopped, and I could see by the way his body stopped bobbing that he must be standing in the shallows. For a long time he stood there, staring down the unmoving monster. I watched, my nerves tense, expecting the thing to leap at him at any moment. But it never did. ¡°So far so good, friends!¡± he yelled. ¡°This monster is a coward, it seems! Could we not have another try at killing it?¡± Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡°No!¡± I yelled. ¡°Absolutely not! Stay there, I¡¯m coming.¡± Amaia and I swam up until we reached the shallows as well, and it felt amazing to be able to stand. We hadn¡¯t been in the river long, but I was never much of a swimmer, so it was more draining than you might expect. At least I knew how to swim. ¡°Thanks for throwing me into the pool as a kid,¡± I whispered, thinking of my dad and speaking half-sarcastically. ¡°Not only did it teach me how to swim, but how to swim under intense emotional duress.¡± ¡°What was that?¡± Cadoc asked. He turned to face me, and even though I shouldn¡¯t have been at all surprised, I jumped and nearly fell over in shock seeing that a wide, toothy grin was plastered on his face. After all, the monster was not even a stone¡¯s throw away. ¡°You alright?¡± Amaia asked as I steadied myself. ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°Alive. How¡¯s the wound look?¡± Instead of responding, she raised her arm and showed me. I could still clearly see the ring of tooth-marks there, but there wasn¡¯t much blood - washed away, I guessed. But I could see that blood was starting to pool again. I tried to remember if there was anything wrong with keeping a wound wet. It seemed bad. Seemed like it would cause an infection or something. But what was the alternative? Let it slowly bleed her out? I took off the upper half of my leather armor - which was, of course, wet and heavy with river water. I would have thought that the water would run off of it better, which made me reconsider what I knew about leather. Which was basically nothing. I knew that people used to boil it to make it rigid. Was this not boiled? Or was it not even leather? Or was it leather from something other than a cow? That seemed likely. Whatever the case, I peeled it off and threw it onto the clay beach. It was lucky that it was warm at night in those parts, but even still I was getting chilly, and I don¡¯t know if taking the armor off was making it better or worse. Then I stripped off my shirt - a cotton shirt, a remnant of home. It was dirty - even after being in the river, which tells you something - and it was cut in places, but being underneath my leather most of the time, it was surprisingly intact. Which made it seem like kind of a shame to tear it up. I tore it into strips as best as I could - harder to do when the fabric is soaking wet. But I managed it. I took one of the longest pieces, and balled up the rest of them and threw them to shore, too. I was hoping they¡¯d dry by the time morning came - and still very much hoping that the monster would leave at sunrise. The monster didn¡¯t react at all to the ball of rags. Maybe it thought it was a trap. It seemed almost braindead, standing there, unmoving. ¡°Here,¡± I said to Amaia. ¡°Not sure how good it will do while wet, and I¡¯ve also never really dressed a wound, but hey, it¡¯s probably better than nothing. Maybe.¡± She stared for a minute, then shrugged, holding up her arm. I took that as permission. I wrapped it as tightly as I could around the bite, and then realized I had nothing to pin the bandage with to keep it in place. ¡°I¡¯m going to try something,¡± I said. ¡°If I fuck up, it¡¯s going to hurt, but it won¡¯t do anything but hurt. No damage or anything, I mean. You alright with that?¡± ¡°I guess.¡± I held one finger over the end of the strip, while my other hand held it in place. With a thought, I sent mana into my fingertip - but just a little bit. It was a different feeling from normal - most of the time I was trying to flood my hands with as much mana as I possibly could. But this time I tried to let it drip out slowly. One nail fell, and I melted it immediately into liquid. Carefully I traced a line of these drops across the edge. Amaia winced a little - the bandage wasn¡¯t very thick, and it was almost certainly hot - but she didn¡¯t stop me. And it seemed to work. ¡°I¡¯m a genius,¡± I muttered. ¡°I was thinking, don¡¯t they make glue out of horse hooves or something? Basically the same thing as a nail, right? I mean, they probably treat it with some chemicals or something, but hey, who needs that when you have magic?¡± ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Amaia said. ¡°I concur,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about. All you need to know is that it worked. Now, we wait.¡± So we stood there, and I tried my best not to look at the monster. Its shifting shadowy appearance was enough to drive one to take hasty actions, and I thought if I stared at it too intensely I would convince myself it was a better idea to try to swim to the other shore. Instead, I looked around at the trees and the river and the clay banks up and down the sides. Partly I was wondering if It¡¯d get lucky and spot Naomi, but also I was just distracting myself. The area looked serene during the day, but now it felt like a hostile country. I wondered what else was waiting in the trees, and shuddered. ¡°Did Naomi really leave us knowing that there were things like that around?¡± I asked. ¡°Is she a coward and a maniac?¡± ¡°She knew not to make any noise,¡± Amaia said. I laughed, which sounded hollow. ¡°That thing¡¯s got enough eyes to not need to rely on hearing us, I think.¡± ¡°Fair.¡± I shook my head, thinking again of Naomi. ¡°Unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable. It¡¯s like, I¡¯m going to betray you all, and then just go die anyway. I want so badly to betray you that I¡¯m going to put myself in danger just to do it. That¡¯s beyond self-interest. That¡¯s, well, that¡¯s fucked. ¡°Was she stupid?¡± I asked. ¡°I mean really. Did I not notice? Has she just been dumb this whole time?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t believe so, Miles,¡± Cadoc said. I sighed. ¡°I almost feel sorry for her. Almost. But I don¡¯t. Just to be clear. We¡¯re still not letting her off easy. In fact, if anything, I¡¯m more pissed off. We almost just died because of her.¡± No one responded to that, so I let myself stew in silence for awhile. Eventually the monster did leave. It just turned, unprovoked, nothing obvious having changed, and slinked off into the woods again. It let off one last annoyed cry, and left. It was a weight off of my shoulders when it did, but I didn¡¯t trust it. ¡°Could be a trick,¡± I said. ¡°We keep waiting.¡± Not long after, however, the sun began to rise, and the thin light of the moon was overpowered, the world streaking orange and red and pink as the sun cast the monsters back into their holes. I hoped. Still, I insisted we wait just a little longer. To be safe. When the sun was sufficiently risen into a bright blue morning, we stepped ashore. With every step I hesitated, nerves loaded like springs, ready to jump back into the water at the first sign of danger. But the danger didn¡¯t come. I let out a breath of relief. ¡°We did it,¡± I said. ¡°We survived.¡± Cadoc started towards where the monster had entered the trees, as if to make extra certain that he couldn¡¯t still pick a fight with it. Amaia hanged back behind me, near the water, watching Cadoc and I. First I grabbed my armor, and put it on. It was very uncomfortable without anything underneath, and I knew it was going to chafe. Then I picked up the ball of cloth from where I¡¯d thrown it to. It was still very wet. Go figure. ¡°I¡¯ll let this dry some more before we change your bandage,¡± I said to Amaia, not turning to her but still looking at the cloth. ¡°We¡¯ve got to get moving though, if we want to find that bitch who left us. Seems like traveling at night is not the right move. I can throw these strips over my shoulders or something, hopefully the sun will dry them enough after awhile. How the wound looking, by the way? We¡¯d be in trouble if that water was dirty.¡± But Amaia didn¡¯t answer. That wasn¡¯t the strangest thing in the world, but something stirred in my chest, some uneasy feeling. I turned. ¡°Amaia?¡± She was on the ground, face up, eyes closed. I thought at first she was taking a nap, and I chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m tried, too,¡± I said. ¡°But we¡¯ve got to get moving.¡± But then I saw it. A strange black something poking out from the edge of her bandage. Even though I had no idea what I was looking at, fear overtook me. I rushed at her and ripped the bandage off. Underneath, the ringed mark remained, but around it, the skin was pitch black, not like any infection I¡¯d even seen - which would have been red, or yellowed, or even a little purple or green - but this was black like a void, and the blackness seemed to have spread above and below the wound like spilled ink. Amaia wasn¡¯t sleeping. She had passed out. Book 2 Chapter 11 - Poison ¡°Amaia!¡± I yelled, shaking her, trying to get her to wake up. I tried not to look anymore at the blackened skin of her arm, but it was impossible. Any time it came into my peripheral vision it drew my gaze with an evil magnetism. Every glance had me worrying that the blotch had grown, even as I stood there. I heard Cadoc rushing back over to us but it hardly registered. I checked Amaia¡¯s pulse on her neck, under her jaw. Alive. Then I saw that she was breathing. But still, she didn¡¯t wake up. ¡°Cadoc,¡± I said as he approached, before he had a chance to speak. Before he could see Amaia¡¯s arm, ¡°Hand me your canteen.¡± He did so immediately without question, fishing it out of his pack. I was already kneeling beside Amaia. I leaned over her and poured some of the water onto Amaia¡¯s face, hoping that would finally wake her. It did. But rather than shoot up in surprise, she blinked languidly, staring up at us with an even blanker expression than usual. ¡°Amaia,¡± I said. ¡°Are you alright?¡± ¡°Needed,¡± she started, the words coming out slowly, as if even talking required effort. ¡°To lie down.¡± ¡°Her arm!¡± Cadoc exclaimed. Amaia made a face of mild displeasure, her eyebrows furrowing and her lips creasing into a slight frown. She lifted her head and looked down at her arm, which she raised slightly. ¡°Oh,¡± she said. ¡°That looks bad.¡± ¡°Does it hurt?¡± I asked. ¡°No. Can¡¯t feel it at all.¡± She let her head and arm both fall back onto the clay. She stared straight up. I shook my head. ¡°What the hell is it? There¡¯s no way you got an infection that bad that fast. And it looks awful, like leprosy or something.¡± ¡°Poison,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°It must be. Poison from that fiend, no doubt.¡± ¡°Poison?¡± I looked back at the wound. It had stopped bleeding, now just a ring of dull reddish marks, uniformly spaced, surrounded by pitch blackness. It wasn¡¯t too large yet - it hadn¡¯t reached either her elbow or her wrist, but I was afraid that it would spread, and perhaps quickly. It hadn¡¯t even been there the night before. ¡°I¡¯ve never,¡± Amaia said, and then had to pause before continuing. ¡°Never been poisoned before.¡± She smiled faintly, laughing at her own joke, I guessed. ¡°Is there a cure?¡± I asked. ¡°There has to be a cure, right?¡± ¡°Likely there is,¡± Cadoc answered, nodding. ¡°Even a basic antidote might keep the poison at bay. But where are we to find it?¡± I clenched my fists and felt as if I might crush Cadoc¡¯s canteen in my grip. Cadoc¡¯s question had triggered a bolt of thought in my mind that raced like lightning. In an instant his question made me think of Coernet - where perhaps we could buy a potion that would help - which made me think of Naomi, which made me remember her betrayal and my veins felt like they were filled with napalm, and my vision grew reddish like I had blood in my eyes. ¡°That fucking bitch,¡± I said. ¡°If Amaia dies, I will kill her. I swear it.¡± Amaia seemed to not even hear me, but Cadoc squatted down beside me and placed a hand on my shoulder. ¡°No one is dead yet, friend. I will never try to take away your chance for revenge, but not all hope is lost. If we can get to town quickly, she might be fine. It has not spread so far, yet.¡± Then he chuckled a little, and looked almost embarrassed to laugh - embarrassment being a practically unheard of expression for Cadoc. ¡°Either you take your companionship seriously, or you care more for Amaia than I had realized, Miles.¡± I shook my head, but didn¡¯t speak. Couldn¡¯t. The anger was tightening around my throat, and if I had opened my mouth at that moment I would have only screamed.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. But I knew that he was mistaken. It wasn¡¯t that I cared so deeply for Amaia, or for my companions in general. It was because, suddenly and unexpectedly, I cared for myself. I wasn¡¯t going to let myself be treated like something disposable - however much truth there might be to that idea. Naomi was the most recent in a long line of betrayals, and I had given up trying to hold back my desire for revenge. And since I wasn¡¯t even in the same dimension as most of those who had wronged me, she would have to pay. Although, I thought, Tom will be next. Cadoc placed his other hand on Amaia¡¯s arm - her good, right arm. ¡°Can you stand?¡± he asked. ¡°Water,¡± she said. I hurriedly brought Cadoc¡¯s canteen to her lips. She drank greedily, then, after a moment, spoke again. ¡°Yes.¡± I handed the canteen back to Cadoc, and he stashed it away again. Then we each got to one side of Amaia, and helped her up onto her feet. She was a little wobbly, and I was afraid to let go, certain she would collapse again. ¡°Water,¡± she said again, this time with something approaching a normal voice, and with much more command. ¡°Again?¡± I asked, letting her lean on me as Cadoc retrieved the canteen again. ¡°Thirsty,¡± she said. Cadoc tried to bring the canteen to her lips, but she snatched it with her good hand before he could. She tilted her head back and began gulping the water down. She didn¡¯t stop until it was completely empty. ¡°Better,¡± she said. She handed the canteen back to Cadoc. ¡°Fill it. I will need more soon.¡± ¡°Is the poison dehydrating you?¡± I asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said. ¡°But I feel much better with water.¡± So much better, in fact, that she let go of me and stood on her own two feet. She stood there for a time until Cadoc returned with the canteen once more full of river water. Amaia took it again, and swallowed three more gulps of water before handing it back the final time - for the moment. ¡°I can walk,¡± she said. And she demonstrated. She could, and she didn¡¯t even look wobbly. If it wasn¡¯t for the hideous ink-blotch on her left forearm, I wouldn¡¯t have even guessed there was something wrong. ¡°A dehydrating poison,¡± I said, mostly to myself, but aloud. ¡°I think I¡¯ve heard of the sort of thing before. I think some rat poisons use that sort of thing. Normally it doesn¡¯t make the rat thirsty, though. So that¡¯s lucky, I guess.¡± ¡°Did you just call me a rat?¡± Amaia asked. Her face was back to its normal state of permanent and likely unintentional intimidation, so the question felt interrogative. ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. But keep drinking lots of water. It might help keep you alive.¡± She nodded. ¡°I hope the water has electrolytes or something in it,¡± I muttered under my breath. ¡°The water back home would drain you if you drank that much.¡± We all filled our canteens - wishing suddenly that we had more of them - and then began our journey again without much fanfare. It was obvious to all of us what we needed to do - follow the river south, keeping close enough to its banks that Amaia could drink as often as she wanted. We kept just inside the treeline, however. Naomi had lied to us about some things, but had clearly told the truth about others. She had said that we shouldn¡¯t stay too long on the riverbank, or else someone would spot us. After the previous night¡¯s struggle, we didn¡¯t want to take our chances again by assuming she had lied. We wanted to pull out some of the smoked meat to eat as we walked, but of course that had been ruined during our swim. We all choked down what we could anyway - it was better than starving - but we discarded the rest. I cursed Naomi - she had stolen food from us, and presumably had not needed to jump into the river, and so she was probably enjoying smoked basurd right at that second. In fact, she had stolen most of the food. My guess was that she justified this to herself with the thinking that we, being a group of three people with useful magic, could hunt more food - while she, being worthless and alone, could not. Another reason to find her, I thought. To steal some food back. As far as hunting went, we did see animals while we walked. Most of them looked like animals you might find on earth - rabbits, squirrels, birds of various sorts - but each of them looked not quite right. The rabbits had short, pointed ears, like cats, and the squirrels were about twice as large as they ought to have been. I couldn¡¯t recognize the birds, but I¡¯d never been much of a naturalist, so that didn¡¯t mean much. But we didn¡¯t stop to hunt. Naomi had almost certainly hunkered down the night before, and was unlikely to be expecting us coming after her - the fool - and so we had a real chance of catching up, if we hurried. After a day of hard travel, the sun starting already to set, we did stop and search for a good place to rest. We found a massive tree with a large - though not comfortable - hollow inside. I prayed that it wasn¡¯t the den of something nasty, and we went inside. It was tight, each of us being pressed up against the other, but we fit. We spent the night there, and somehow, all of us slept. They say hunger is the best spice, and so I suppose in the same way sleep-deprivation is the best sleep aid. I was horribly sore the next morning, but nothing had assaulted us in the night. We got up, stomaches growling, and went to the river side. Amaia downed more water, and then we refilled our canteens again. We had wrapped the wound again after some strips of cloth had dried - not sure what good it would to, but it couldn¡¯t hurt. But, stealing another glance at Amaia¡¯s arm, I could see that the blackness was spreading. In only a day¡¯s time it had spread up past her elbow, and was creeping black tendrils down into her wrist. Before I could worry more than I already had, Cadoc grabbed my arm and turned me around, pointing. I looked. Upriver was a ship. A small ship with a white sail which hung limply from the mast, and what looked like a galley in the front - could maybe hold 4 inside, cramped together in there. I couldn¡¯t see anyone steering it - it was as if whoever was inside was simply letting the river take it. ¡°Should we leave?¡± Amaia asked. She was now also standing beside us, staring. ¡°Because of what the coward said?¡± Cadoc asked in return. ¡°Fuck it,¡± I said. ¡°What have we got to lose? I¡¯m not going to sit here and let possible help drift past us.¡± No one argued - despite the fact that the last time I suggested ignoring Naomi¡¯s warning, it had gotten us in to a lot of trouble. ¡°Hey!¡± I yelled as the ship passed. ¡°Over here! We need help! Our friend is injured!¡± Cadoc and Amaia joined in as well, yelling and waving their arms. Still I saw no one on board. The ship was moving faster than I had realized, and though we redoubled our efforts when it passed directly in front of us, we never saw any sign of anyone on board. ¡°Fuck!¡± I yelled. ¡°Fucking asshole. Shit.¡± The ship was already out of view - we had been yelling long after it was likely to do anything. I turned to face upriver again. ¡°Do you think another one will come? One not manned by fucking pieces of shit.¡± ¡°It seems probable,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Maybe that one was empty,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Why the hell would it be-¡° I froze. Up the shore, I had caught a glimpse of something yellow and bright. It was far away, but the color was arresting. I squinted. A figure in the distance, crouching beside the the river¡¯s edge. Probably filing a canteen. A figure dressed in golden attire. Naomi. Book 2 Chapter 12 - Collar My legs fired like pistons as I shot forward across the hard-clay bank. It happened before my mind had fully registered what I was looking at - an automatic response. By the time my mind had caught up, I was sprinting. That bitch, I thought to myself, and the words echoed in my head. The voices were back - had been back - but they weren¡¯t instigating me now. They didn¡¯t remind me how worthless I was, didn¡¯t belittle me and kick me and bring up old memories I¡¯d tried for years to forget. They cheered me on. They whispered dark encouragements, some of the voices speaking two words at once as they continued to chant that bitch. That bitch. That bitch. My peripherals closed. The world wasn¡¯t a sphere but a line, a straight shot from where I¡¯d been to the revenge that waited ahead of me. Nothing else existed. Nothing else ever had. My time in that dimension had broken me, and it had remade me. Or else, it had stripped something from me, something that had only slowed me down, and I ran like a man who had been wearing weights around his ankles but had finally been freed, and that fire inside of me roared. Each footfall was a revelation, every breath swallowed an undeniable sign to the world that I was alive. After my peripherals faded, other senses began to follow. The smell of pine needles and clay and sunshine - it left me. My nose shut off, diverting energy to my legs. My mouth went numb, tasteless, and then my hearing went. I could not even hear the river beside me. That was too far outside of my world, my line. Finally, my nerves became numb. I couldn¡¯t feel my feet hit the ground, or the ragged hot feeling in my lungs, or the pounding headache and tightness in my jaw. But there are other senses than those. My sense of time became fuzzy. Whether I had run for minutes or centuries it would have felt roughly the same. And in that eternal, fleeting forever-moment, I forgot about Tom. Forgot about sparks. Forgot about not being special. I wasn¡¯t happy. In no sense of the word was I happy. I was angrier than I¡¯d ever thought myself possible of being. I had started my charge - my hunt, a voice corrected - far off from that bitch, and so it took her a long time to notice the smoke building up around her, the black clouds of wildfire rushing towards her. I could see them, because I was them, but that bitch did nothing for a long time but squat down beside the water, filling a canteen and whatever else. But eventually - and it was too late by then, had been too late the moment I had spotted her - she turned, and her eyes went wide, and for a few lethal moments she froze. Then, the fool, she spoke, standing up, even waving. ¡°Miles!¡± she yelled with false congeniality and a plastic smile, ¡°Like, fancy seeing you here.¡± She laughed nervously. I didn¡¯t stop. When I didn¡¯t answer, the fear emerged to the surface of her face again. Quickly she squatted back down, reached a hand behind her, fumbling for something, and brought up her staff which had been lying on the ground beside her. She held its intricately carved wooden mass before her like a threat. ¡°Do it!¡± I screamed at her, still running, and the sound came out like an animal¡¯s growl. ¡°Do it, you fucking coward! Kill me!¡± Distance was hard to approximate in that crimson haze. I was only yards away, I was certain, but still far enough that she could have sliced me in half before I gotten her within range of my nails. She should have run. She should have run away and prayed. Her face came into focus as I gained on her position. Her eyes called out in a quiet desperation, her deeply tanned face visibly distraught, her whole person subtly shaking - but something like firm resolution there, as well. She held the staff further out in front of her, as if highlighting her threat. I laughed. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°I am nobody!¡± I yelled. ¡°And that means you can¡¯t hurt me, you bitch. You can¡¯t kill nothing, and that¡¯s what I am. So go ahead! Try it! You won¡¯t be the first.¡± I really thought she was going to. But at the last minute she dropped her staff and she turned and ran. Her short legs didn¡¯t get her far. Too late. I dived and I connected, driving my weight into her back in a violent tackle. She was forced to the ground. I turned her over so that I could see the look on her face. She was small. Weak. That was the feeling I had then. Suddenly my nerves awoke again and I felt searing pain - first on my shoulder, then my leg, then another across my chest. She was cutting me, that bitch. The thought only incensed me further. Ignoring the pain - like paper cuts, all of them - I held a hand over her face, pinning her shoulder down with the other, my knees on her chest keeping her from rolling away. I sent mana into my hand, and somehow her eyes went even wider. ¡°Stay still,¡± I said. ¡°And this won¡¯t kill you.¡± She only struggled more. But the nails began to fall, turning to liquid as I melted them, and the liquid, like hot wax, fell around her collarbone. She screamed. ¡°Stop!¡± I said. ¡°Or I¡¯ll ignite it!¡± I think she knew I meant it, because she froze, clearly stifling further screams, tears of pain starting to bubble in her eyes. I let the nails keep pouring, and it created something like a grotesque ivory necklace. I seized her head, brought her slightly off the ground, and made sure the collar was completed around the back as well. Then I stood. She sat there for a moment, writhing in a silent agony but clearly afraid to move too much. I told her not to take the nails off, or I would ignite them - she had been about to clutch at them, to claw them off. But I forced her to let them cool, forced her not to lay down, and though some of the nails ran down her like slow rivulets of water - visible in their path through the new gouges in her dress - most of them dried quickly, and formed together. ¡°You thought I would forget?¡± I asked, hardly a whisper - but I knew she could hear me. ¡°You thought I would let you go? Let me tell you something, Naomi. ¡°In fourth grade two friends of mine were having a conversation. I hadn¡¯t been paying attention, didn¡¯t know what they were talking about, but suddenly they were saying that something was as difficult as calculus. I¡¯d never heard the word calculus before, didn¡¯t know what it was at all, but I wanted to fit in, wanted to look cool. I said, ¡®Oh yeah, I¡¯ve played that game before.¡¯ I thought it was a video game. We talked a lot about video games. It was a reasonable guess. ¡°But of course, calculus is not a video game. And my so-called friends laughed in my face - they laughed and laughed and laughed. ¡°I was nine years old then. And I haven¡¯t forgotten it. I still have nightmares about it, sometimes. I never forget, Naomi. Never.¡± She didn¡¯t respond immediately, and there was nothing but the sounds of her sniffling and the river again in my ears. ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± she said, finally, shaking her head. ¡°I-¡± she choked back something. She looked up at me with a pitiful expression. ¡°I thought we were friends?¡± The look on her face brought something like guilt into my heart. I almost rebuked myself - would have - but I turned away from her, looked at the river flowing forever away as I spoke. ¡°So did I.¡± I said. ¡°And yet here we are.¡± A sudden wave of emotion crested me and the anger slightly waned, mission accomplished, and I had to keep myself from crying, too. Just then I heard heavy footfalls approaching. I didn¡¯t turn - I knew who it was, of course. I had half expected Cadoc, at least, to give some sort of cheer, but as their running stopped and I could feel them standing nearby - but not too close - they didn¡¯t say anything, only breathing heavy, catching their breath. It was quiet for a time. Surprisingly Naomi was the one who finally spoke. ¡°Amaia!¡± she yelled - and the yell was wet with snot and tears, but her yell broke through it. ¡°What happened to your arm?¡± I turned back to the scene. Amaia¡¯s arm was worse every time I looked at it. Her entire left forearm was black like coal. I pointed at where Naomi still sat. ¡°You did,¡± I said. ¡°Amaia got poisoned by a monster, because we traveled at night, because we had to catch up with you, because you left us, you bitch. And now you¡¯re going to take us to Coernet. And if you try to run off again, or you try any funny business, or if Amaia dies because we don¡¯t make it in time, then I will light that collar up like a Christmas tree.¡± Naomi stared up at Amaia, and I saw as the twisted agony of her face changed to guilt. My own tears dried in my eyes before they got the chance to fall. Serves you right, I thought. I hope you feel guilty. In a quick movement Naomi stood, and I almost ignited her, adrenaline still pumping. But she had jumped up and ran to Amaia, arms wide. ¡°Amaia!¡± she yelled, sobbing. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡± She embraced Amaia in a hug, and Amaia just stood there awkwardly. But she didn¡¯t stop her. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean for any of this to happen. I just - I- I was just scared. I¡¯m so sorry.¡± She cried loudly, great gasping sobs, and finally Amaia placed her own arms lightly around Naomi¡¯s shoulders. ¡°It¡¯s OK,¡± she said. Naomi kept crying, burying herself in Amaia¡¯s chest. Amaia looked at me. I didn¡¯t know what to say - what I could say - and it seemed she didn¡¯t either. She only nodded. Cadoc, meanwhile sidled up beside me and placed a hand on my shoulder. ¡°You never cease to amaze me, friend,¡± he said. ¡°Your sense of justice is stronger than the hardest steel.¡± I couldn¡¯t let myself linger on thoughts like those. ¡°Will you take us to Coernet?¡± I asked Naomi. ¡°Or will you die?¡± ¡°Of course I¡¯ll do it!¡± she exclaimed, turning to me. It was amazing to see someone in her position get angry, to yell at the person who could end her life with a thought. ¡°What do you think I am, heartless?¡± I hardened myself. ¡°Then why did you do it?¡± I asked. ¡°Why did you leave?¡± She cast her eyes down, sheepishly. ¡°Oh. Well. I, uh. Because I couldn¡¯t give you the reward.¡± ¡°Couldn¡¯t?¡± I asked. ¡°Or didn¡¯t want to.¡± ¡°Scared of her parent¡¯s disapproval, perhaps,¡± Cadoc interjected. ¡°Remember always that this one is motivated by fear, friends.¡± ¡°No!¡± Naomi yelled, her green-yellow eyes staring at me suddenly like a gold-emerald fire. ¡°I couldn¡¯t! I can¡¯t! I told you that I was rich in the dungeon because I had to! I needed you to take me with you, to get me out of there. You would have lied in my position, too, yeah? Of course. Anyone would have. I was going to let you get me out of the dungeon, or close enough, and then I¡¯d slip away in the dark and you¡¯d never see me again. But then we were working together, and I¡­¡± She looked at the ground again, one hand gripping the opposite elbow. ¡°And then I didn¡¯t want to leave.¡± She looked up again. ¡°But then you kept talking about the reward! I kind of hoped, at the end, that you would forget, or something. I know, stupid, hopeful, but. Well, you didn¡¯t forget. In fact, you made it the group¡¯s entire goal, to go get the reward. ¡°And I didn¡¯t even lie,¡± she said, hands raised in a sign of innocence. ¡°Not really! I said I was rich. Well, I was rich. That¡¯s true. But not anymore. My family isn¡¯t rich now. And my parents will probably give you something, I guess, but I can¡¯t guarantee it will be any more valuable than a warm meal.¡± I stared. ¡°So there¡¯s no reward?¡± ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Not really.¡± Book 2 Chapter 13 - Reformed There was still daylight left to walk by, so we started again towards Coernet, though the endeavor felt somewhat hollow by then. I shuffled on. I knew I had no other choice - I had to get Amaia to something resembling civilization if she was going to have any chance at recovering - her coal-black arm like a dark omen in the peripheries. But without a reward waiting for me at our destination, it felt again like I was short on time - that the clock was ticking. I¡¯d have to make money some other way, and fast. One million dollars, I thought, the words so vivid in my ears I thought for a moment that RENA was contacting me. I shook my head. How the hell am I going to do it? As the thrill of the hunt cooled in me, I began to feel somewhat defeated. Defeated, and even a bit guilty, though I did my best to remind myself that was unnecessary. Our reformed party walked with all the enthusiasm of a forced march - except for Cadoc, of course, who looked almost cheery. Amaia didn¡¯t talk much, only spoke to tell us when she needed to stop for more water. But one of us was, in fact, being forced - Naomi had asked if we could take off the collar, and I had refused. Amaia and Cadoc both shot me looks when I said that, but didn¡¯t fight me on it. Their looks were impossible to read. Did they hate me? Fear me? Should they? At one point during our walk, I let the group overtake me, falling to the back of our four-person convoy. I had felt a sudden and irresistible desire to be alone. I told Cadoc not to stop moving. There, in the rear, I walked slowly, and eventually stopped altogether, staring at my hands. With some trembling I held my right hand over my left, moving mana into the fingertip of my right index finger. I let a nail fall, melting it before the drop hit the back of my left hand near where the thumb and index finger meet. It burned. The pain was intense, but localized, manageable, and over quickly, and I was able to breathe through it. Within seconds any trace of pain had disappeared, such that it was hard to accurately remember how painful it had really been. But it had been painful, and that was only a drop. The drop quickly cooled, sealing itself on my skin. I poked at it, and it didn¡¯t budge. I set my jaw, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. Then I ripped the dried piece of nail off of my skin. It stung as it pulled up a short hair or two from my hand, but it didn¡¯t tear flesh. The spot where the melted nail had stuck was now reddish, but otherwise uninjured. I didn¡¯t know if these facts made me feel better, or worse. But, looking at my hands again, they did make me feel different. I needed a mirror, but the water of the Blood wouldn¡¯t do, wasn¡¯t accurate enough to tell. I shook myself and ran to rejoin the group. Nobody said anything at my return. Naomi still led the way, the collar around her neck making me think of my dad¡¯s dog leading the way into the woods. That felt like another life. Below my insurance the dress Naomi wore was ripped and fraying, its yellow cloth like gold thread unfurling. Someone had thrown a cloak over her - probably Amaia - but still I caught glimpses of bare skin through holes whenever she would turn back to confirm that we were still following. The hem of the dress was in tatters, her legs bare up to the thigh - and beyond, in parts - and there were holes above that which revealed glimpses of midriff. Through two torn slits so symmetrical they looked like they were designed that way, I could still see where liquid nail had run like meandering rivers through the small valleys of her chest. If not for the cloak, she had more skin showing than cloth. I¡¯d never really registered much about her hair before, except that it was black, and short. But some part of my mind had noticed, clearly, because I could tell then that it had slightly changed. Before her hair had been cut in something like a bob, with bangs covering her forehead, every line straight and severe, from the line above her eyebrows, to the line at the bottom of the cut which surrounded her tan neck like an amphitheater. But now it had begun to grow out, and had been cut - presumably by her magic, accidentally - only a little, but the bob had begun to lose it¡¯s artificiality, some strands dipping lower beneath the line than others. Stolen novel; please report. When Naomi looked back again, I realized that I was staring, waiting for every time she turned to catch more details. Her eyes met mine but I refused to look away. I clenched my fists and stared, and she surrendered first rather than trip. I felt guilty again, because the look she gave me had been pleading. Then I was angry that she was trying so brazenly to manipulate my feelings. ¡°Cadoc,¡± I called, though he had been more or less at my side already. ¡°I have something I want to ask you.¡± ¡°What is on your mind, friend?¡± he asked. I didn¡¯t bother to lower my voice. ¡°If there is no reward waiting for us,¡± I said. ¡°And we know how to get to Coernet, then why do we need Naomi?¡± ¡°What?¡± Naomi said, stopping. She turned to face us, but I only pointed ahead, past her, then motioned towards my own throat. My threat must have been clear enough, because she soon turned and continued, but I almost imagined I saw her roll her eyes, first. ¡°You wish to leave her behind?¡± Cadoc asked, still walking. ¡°Or kill her?¡± I sighed. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you don¡¯t want me to kill her.¡± Cadoc shook his head. ¡°It would not be an honorable act, truly.¡± ¡°What if I challenged her to a duel?¡± I asked. ¡°She betrayed us. I¡¯m no expert, but that has to be grounds for a duel, right?¡± I heard Naomi stifle a laugh, though she didn¡¯t turn back this time. ¡°Something funny?¡± I asked. ¡°No,¡± she said quickly, still walking. ¡°I mean, like, you could just burn my head off, right? Or melt my throat closed, or whatever would happen, yeah? So what kind of honorable duel would that be?¡± ¡°He would remove the collar,¡± Cadoc answered for me. ¡°Otherwise it would not be a true duel.¡± ¡°So you like the idea?¡± I asked. Naomi was getting on my nerves again, and I was actually somewhat considering it. She basically deserved it. Plus, then I wouldn¡¯t have to keep looking at her, and I thought that might help things. Out of sight, out of mind. This time Naomi laughed aloud. ¡°You want to be cut in half that badly? You could have just asked me, you know.¡± Now it was my turn to laugh. ¡°How did that work for you last time, huh? I seem to remember you being helpless, struggling underneath me, completely at my mercy.¡± Now she stopped again, turned on her heel to face me, and pointed, yelling. ¡°That¡¯s only because I didn¡¯t want to kill you!¡± she said. ¡°And I¡¯m regretting it, now that you¡¯ve put this fucking thing around my neck like I¡¯m some kind of animal.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re only here to complain about it because I didn¡¯t want to kill you,¡± I retorted. ¡°If I wanted you dead, you¡¯d be dead. Ask Nolan, if you know how to talk to ghosts.¡± ¡°Oh, big scary man.¡± She put her hands in the air before her in mock fear. ¡°Oh no, what ever shall I do against the murderer who knocks people off of cliffs. Except, like, there aren¡¯t any cliffs here, are there?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a murderer,¡± I muttered. ¡°Speak up,¡± she said. ¡°I can¡¯t hear you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a murderer.¡± ¡°No?¡± she asked. ¡°Just what, then, hopeful? Like, apprenticing as a murderer? A murderer in training? What are you, huh?¡± I didn¡¯t have an answer for her. We stared at each other, our journey stopped for the moment. She held her staff again in front of her, and with the golden dress in tatters and the cloak billowing out behind her, she seemed weirdly regal and imposing, like the graven image of some ancient goddess calling forth a plague. I realized that I should have taken that staff from her, probably. Could I light her up faster than she could cut me in half? She was probably asking herself the same thing. Suddenly Amaia - who had been silent thus far - stepped forward from who-knows-where to stand between Naomi and I. ¡°You both just said that neither of you wants to kill the other,¡± she said, looking at one of us, then the other. ¡°So why are we stopping?¡± I couldn¡¯t help but look at the black shadow over Amaia¡¯s arm, and see the slow march the sickness had made even since I had last seen it. I felt immediately ashamed. Naomi lowered her staff almost instantly, and my shoulders relaxed soon after. ¡°Sorry, Amaia,¡± Naomi said. Then her voice turned sour again. ¡°I guess I react sort of strongly to death threats.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°Start walking.¡± We did, and silence reigned for a time. But I couldn¡¯t let things sit - didn¡¯t have it in me. ¡°We don¡¯t kill her.¡± I said to Cadoc, as if the conversation had never stopped. ¡°Fine. I was just spitballing, anyway. Leave her behind, then. She clearly wants to leave. If keeping her with us isn¡¯t going to get us anything, why bother? She¡¯s a hassle.¡± ¡°I seem to remember you being the one to insist we catch up with her, Miles,¡± Cadoc responded. ¡°That was back when I thought she was worth something,¡± I said. ¡°What good is she now?¡± I just caught Naomi muttering something as she walked. ¡°Say again?¡± I said, knowing whatever it was would be instigating but asking anyway. ¡°Shut up!¡± she yelled. She stopped again, turned. ¡°You¡¯re trying to make me angry, and I like, don¡¯t appreciate it.¡± The fight was roaring again like it was a smoldering fire which had just had lighter fluid poured on it. ¡°If we¡¯re making lists of things we don¡¯t appreciate,¡± I said. ¡°Then being lied to about a reward is pretty high on my list, personally.¡± Naomi¡¯s fists were clenched, but she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then simply turned around and begun walking again. ¡°No response?¡± I asked, running ahead so that I could walk backwards before her. ¡°I don¡¯t really understand your problem with this one. Wouldn¡¯t you be happy to leave?¡± ¡°Not now,¡± she said, not meeting my eyes. ¡°Not now that Amaia is in trouble, and it¡¯s my fault.¡± That stunned me for a moment. She was able to take some responsibility, at least. ¡°But if your parents have no money, what could you even do for her?¡± She sighed, and stopped again. ¡°My parents are alchemists, alright? They lost their business and all their money when our town was overtaken by monsters. But they¡¯re like, still alchemists, y¡¯know? They can probably help. Maybe. I don¡¯t know. But I have to try.¡± Then she brushed past me. I stood there for a moment, thinking, before following behind. ¡°Perhaps we should keep her, Miles,¡± Cadoc said, smiling. ¡°Are you making fun of me?¡± I asked. ¡°Never, friend.¡± My mind was racing to process the new information. Assuming she wasn¡¯t lying again - who knows why she would, but I certainly didn¡¯t trust her word - but assuming that she wasn¡¯t lying, and she really felt guilty, maybe we could still use her. And maybe a ransom wasn¡¯t even off the table, fully. They might be poor potionmakers here, I thought. But the potions would probably sell for a fortune on Earth, if they worked and did anything useful. Fuck, it¡¯s worth a try. Before I could think about it any longer, Naomi had stopped again. I was about to berate her for holding things up when I saw that she was pointing. ¡°Finally,¡± she said. ¡°There¡¯s the town, up ahead.¡± Book 2 Chapter 14 - Harfin It was hardly a speck on the horizon, but if I squinted I could make out the vague form of something in the distance - some building, I guessed, like a toothpick. ¡°That¡¯s Coernet?¡± I asked, hand on my brow to block the downward-racing sun. Naomi huffed. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s only Harfin. But it means we¡¯re close.¡± ¡°How close?¡± I asked, suspicious, but she didn¡¯t answer, only rushed ahead as if in a hurry to arrive. Which, I supposed, we all were. We all picked up our pace with the promise of civilization ahead. Cadoc¡¯s voice came from over my shoulder. ¡°Will there be potions there, then?¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Should be something, at least. Something to hold Amaia over.¡± Amaia grunted at the mention of her name, but said nothing else. The way to the town - Harfin - was a straight shot from there, the river straightening its path as if needing to be on its best behavior for the approaching guests. And like a welcoming party suddenly there were ships everywhere, the river busy with activity even as afternoon settled upon the water. Most of the vessels were small, and seemed to be fishing with nets, spry men of various ages pulling lines. But one larger ship did pass us down the Blood, wide white sails like something out of an old painting, sails which drooped uselessly in the still air as the ship continued moving all the same. But we didn¡¯t stay along the water¡¯s edge for long. Soon we spied a path to our right among the trees, and, following it, that path soon joined a narrow and overgrown road of dirt, the other end of which disappeared into the northwest, swallowed by the forest - which had grown thicker as we moved south, I now noticed. The road seemed like it hadn¡¯t been used in years, the wilderness beginning to reclaim it, but still I was thankful for it - in places the wood would have been too choked with vegetation to pass through without it, while the clay edge of the Blood was hardly a foot wide there, the water high and lapping against the trunks of trees, which I could see only through gaps in the wall of wood quickly forming. Do rivers have tides? I thought, slightly embarrassed by my lack of knowledge. I didn¡¯t think so. Flooding, maybe. Minor, I hoped, because I was in town to get help, not to give it. I could no longer see the town ahead past the trees, though I was fairly sure we were still heading the right way. I was still following Naomi, stealing glances at her whenever the maneuvering through brush left her momentarily exposed. ¡°Stealing¡± glances is not the right way to put it. The looks were repayments. Perhaps she wasn¡¯t repaying me voluntarily, I reasoned, but that only made me like a bounty hunter, or, ironically, like a debt collector, taking by force what she owed me by right. She owed me, and as this cost her nothing - she didn¡¯t even notice, I imagined - it was only right that I should snatch away a look at her breast peeking out of the slit in her dress as she slipped sideways between two trees, the fabric pulled aside, caught on the bark, and only right that I should, ducking under some low-hanging branches, following her almost on hands and knees, look up and ahead at her callipygous form between strips of golden thread. It would have been better if she was ugly. Every bit of debt repaid only made the debt itself more onerous, like eating food that only awakens your hunger. Suddenly, with all of the shock of exiting a dark cave into harsh sunlight - I should know - the trees were gone, revealing a wide clear area of hard dirt ground before wooden palisade walls. The walls were not much taller than a man, the top a series of points like a wall made of sharpened spears. The tops of roofs peaked over them from the other side. Beside it, just within the wall, was a wooden tower, three times taller than the wall itself. It was a watchtower, clearly. In the sudden clearing I felt like a criminal caught in the act, and I scrambled to my feet. The shouting came next, which again quickened my heartbeat. ¡°Who goes there!¡± A voice from the tower. Blocking the sun again with one hand, I could just see the figure. He seemed to be holding a bow.Stolen story; please report. ¡°Travelers!¡± Cadoc shouted back before the rest of us could respond. ¡°And one of our number wounded! Will you let us inside to seek aid?¡± The watchman lowered his bow slightly, but did not put it away. ¡°Travelers from where?¡± he asked. ¡°No traffic comes by that road in these days.¡± Then why are you guarding it, I wanted to say, but instead I shouted ¡°Eraztun. We come from Eraztun.¡± The watchman laughed, and finally set down his bow. ¡°Come,¡± he said. ¡°I will open the gate.¡± I had expected more interrogation, and the way he laughed made me think I had accidentally used a code word, a secret joke, rather than that he believed me. But we approached the gate all the same. It was a simple construction, two wide doors which swung outwards. As we stepped inside, I could see that there was a place on the doors to bar them, and that this entrance funneled through a narrow hall of further walls, with gaps where arrows could have passed through. A killing hall, in case intruders made it past the gates. But the guard was standing there, smiling, hands on his hips and he looked us up and down shamelessly. ¡°Eraztun¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°I would not have believed you, if you did not have such a look on desperation on your faces, and if your clothes were not little more than rags. What brings you to Harfin?¡± ¡°Injury,¡± I said. ¡°Remember?¡± ¡°Oh, right, yes,¡± he said. ¡°I apologize. Who is¡­¡± He stopped, and it was obvious that he was staring at Amaia¡¯s arm, black like it had been burned to charcoal. She didn¡¯t seem to mind the staring, only stared back, seeming half oblivious to her surroundings - which worried me, a little. ¡°Oh,¡± the guard said. ¡°You are lucky to be alive. Come. I will show you to our Apothecary. Though there is little they can do here.¡± Before I had time to respond - in anger, of course - Naomi spoke. Suddenly she was at the guard¡¯s side, almost whispering in his ear. ¡°Thank you, oh guard, oh wondrous, uh, watchman. Would you, like, do me the honor of answering me a question or two as we walk?¡± The watchman squinted in suspicion - or so it looked. ¡°I suppose.¡± He turned to one side and called to someone else, hidden behind some corner. The other person called back, and after a quick exchange, the watchman¡¯s duty was taken over by his companion, and he was free to lead us into the town. The man¡¯s name was Furtov, he told us. He told us a lot more as well, none of which I cared to hear and most of which I¡¯d have trouble remembering even if you tried to torture it out of me. I mostly ignored him, looking around at the town. It wasn¡¯t very large, but it wasn¡¯t small either. I could quickly see the opposite wall in the distance. Still, it was bustling, and the buildings were crammed close together - not so close as in Dross, but it did bear a certain resemblance. The town was roughly rectangular, walled in on three sides by the palisade, and on the fourth by Zinthur¡¯s Blood. The riverside seemed almost a long, continuous harbor, ships of all descriptions - though mostly small fishing vessels - tied to shore at every possible location. My first impression was that there must have been nearly as many boats as people - like cars back home, I mused. As a result, however, the air smelled strongly of fish. The town itself was a tinderbox, a series of wooden structures, dignified, most thatched roofed but some with simple shingles of clay. It all looked so flammable, and I felt like I would need to be careful, else I would burn the whole place down by accident. Some townspeople stared as we passed, and I was certain it was because of how haggard we looked. They were mostly pale in complexion, brown haired and stout - though there was some variance, and also some among them which stood out, which I assumed to be travelers from the south. Furtov was leading us down a wide avenue which ran from the gate we had entered straight to the gate on the opposite end. He was telling us how boring his job was, guarding the North Gate, and how happy he was to have something to do, for once. ¡°No one comes from the North?¡± Amaia asked. I was happy she was feeling good enough to speak, at least. ¡°Not no one,¡± Furtov answered. ¡°Just¡­ well, nevermind that.¡± ¡°This apothecary you¡¯re taking us to,¡± Naomi cut in, ¡°Are they, um, associated with anyone in particular?¡± ¡°Associated?¡± She cleared her throat. ¡°I mean, like, are they independent? Do they make their potions themselves?¡± Furtov nodded. ¡°I believe so. You¡¯ll have to ask when we get there. I know they import some things, though. Potions we don¡¯t have the ingredients for here, I suppose.¡± Naomi sidled up next to the man, nearly tripping him. ¡°And do you know who they import from? You would be doing me, like, a huge favor if you knew.¡± ¡°Who?¡± Furtov stammered. ¡°They come from Coernet, or at least they must, I think they must, I mean, well, yes, I don¡¯t recall exactly, but yes, some seller in Coernet.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Naomi said, and quickly separated from Furtov without another word, falling back among the rest of us as we followed him. ¡°What was that about?¡± I whispered to her. ¡°Oh, are we friendly now?¡± she barked back. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize. You going to take off this necklace then?¡± I didn¡¯t respond. It was dumb of me to have even asked her. ¡°I know you¡¯re in a hurry,¡± Furtov started up again, ¡°But, and I hope you¡¯ll forgive me saying this, you ought to buy some new clothes once you¡¯ve got your injury sorted. Or delayed. If not, someone might mistake you for a traveling brothel!¡± He laughed loudly at his own joke, then stopped, blushing, when he noticed that none of us were laughing along. Finally we arrived at a small wooden building, not much larger than a shed, with a sign outside with a picture of a flask painted on it. ¡°Here we are,¡± Furtov said. ¡°Tell them Furtov sent you, and they¡¯ll do you right. I¡¯ve got to get back to the tower before Turya notices I¡¯m gone. I wish you the best of luck, travelers. Come see me again some time. I¡¯d love to hear of your tales.¡± Cadoc was the only one who answered. He grasped the man¡¯s shoulder, looked him dead in the eye, and said, ¡°Thank you. Your kindness will be remembered. We would be honored to regale you of our adventures, another time.¡± Furtov smiled, said goodbye again, and was off. ¡°Friendly town,¡± I said, after he had left. ¡°An idiot,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Really?¡± I asked. ¡°I thought perhaps you were going to marry him, the way you were talking.¡± ¡°You are a greater idiot then.¡± My face twitched. ¡°You should talk with more respect to the man who holds your life in his hands.¡± ¡°Leave me alone,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m not your slave.¡± ¡°Debatable.¡± She huffed, and hurried inside, pushing open the door into the apothecary. I followed, likely huffing as well. I caught Cadoc¡¯s playful smile out of the corner of my eye. It was all a game to him, I supposed. But I remembered Amaia¡¯s arm. It wasn¡¯t the time to think about anything else, not yet. I prayed that they would have a cure inside, despite what the watchman said. Book 2 Chapter 15 - Bandaid The shop was hardly larger than a closet. Dimly lit by candlelight, I could see at first nothing but the multicolored light of reflected vials, the contents of each a different and off-putting shade. Many were in bottles of irregular shapes, and I couldn¡¯t imagine why - why some were tall and thin like test tubes, and why others were fat and asymmetrical. As my eyes adjusted, the shelves holding these concoctions resolved themselves, and then gradually the rest of the small room. There was hardly enough floorspace for the four of us to stand packed in like sardines in front of the counter, behind which a middle-aged man, hair starting to gray, sat, yawning. Behind him was a torn curtain hanging in shreds over an open doorway, through the gaps of which I could see what looked like medieval studio apartment, an unmade bed in one corner and what I assumed was some sort of alchemical equipment in the other. The bedroom looked practically cavernous compared to the cramped front of the store. It smelled nice in there. Enough to make an impression - a slight chemical smell, but sweet, like some sort of perfume. ¡°A new customer,¡± the man said as if to himself, stifling his yawn. He was wearing circular glasses which seemed about to slide off of his squashed nose. ¡°You can always tell the new ones. They stand there blinking like idiots for so long, then jump when they finally realize that yes, there is someone inside of the store, who would have guessed.¡± ¡°My good sir,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°We are in need of a potion,¡± ¡°I don¡¯t recall asking,¡± the man responded. He took off his glasses and proceeded to wipe them with a rag - which looked dirtier than the glasses. ¡°And I could have assumed that, don¡¯t you think? Not many come here for the food.¡± ¡°Or the hospitality,¡± I muttered. ¡°No,¡± the man said. ¡°Certainly not.¡± He replaced the glasses on his face, and then finally turned to look at us, hands folded on the counter before him, staring with a look that asked ¡°so?¡± Amaia simply lifted her arm. It must have been hidden in the shadows of the store before, but the light caught it once she held it up. The blackness had begun to reach down her palm towards her fingers. The shopkeeper adjusted his glasses and squinted. ¡°Ah,¡± the man said, shaking his head. ¡°Bad luck, that. A thladem bite, I take it?¡± Amaia shrugged. ¡°We don¡¯t know what that is,¡± I said. ¡°Not from here then,¡± the man said. ¡°Of course, I could have guessed that by the smell. Most alchemists have the good sense to lose their sense of smell, burn it away, overwhelm it until it flees. Not me. I can smell you. Not like fish, that awful miasma that had sunken into my very skin by now, I¡¯m sure - but a smell not much better. A foreign and unpleasant smell. Like rodents. You aren¡¯t turning, are you? Not hiding a tail in your rags?¡± I didn¡¯t know what he meant by ¡°turning,¡± except that it immediately brought to mind what Cadoc had told me in the past about people who live near dungeons being slowly corrupted. Was there a dungeon nearby? Naomi answered before I could gather my thoughts, taking a step forward - which was all she could take. ¡°No no no,¡± she said. ¡°We are, like, fully human, y¡¯know?¡± She spread her arms wide, presumably to prove it. ¡°Yes,¡± the man said, now looking shamelessly at Naomi - in fact, I half expected him to insult her appearance. He was scowling. ¡°I can see that.¡± ¡°We can pay,¡± Naomi said, dropping her hands back to her sides. ¡°We just need a potion for our friend.¡± The man shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t take service in kind for goods,¡± the man said. He suddenly looked at me. ¡°No matter who you offer me. Is she your girl, then?¡± We really need to get her some new clothes, I thought. But I didn¡¯t say anything. Let her be shamed, what did I care? ¡°Would you take gold?¡± ¡°Gold? Why yes, I suppose I would take gold. Have you met many shopkeepers who wouldn¡¯t? Gold will do fine.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. I expected him to go and grab a potion off of the shelf at that point. Instead, he only stared at me expectantly. I sighed, took off my backpack, and rummaged around inside. There was a small pile of what I¡¯d been able to grab while fleeing the crumbling dungeon, and from it I grabbed a golden cup - more like a golden shot glass in size - and offered it to the shopkeeper. He snatched it, and then held it up to the light, squinting at it. He bit the edge of it, nodded, then pocketed the cup. Then, still silent, he rose, grabbed one of the test tube-like vials from a shelf behind him, and laid it on the counter. It rolled a bit before settling. It was not much bigger than the finger of a large man. The liquid inside was red like blood. It was stopped up by what looked like cork. ¡°I am sorry to inform you,¡± he said, sounding not at all sorry, ¡°That I cannot cure that condition. But this will stop the spread, at least. For today. Drink it, now.¡± Amaia looked sideways at Cadoc and I. I shrugged, although I was somewhat upset at the idea of a temporary bandaid for the problem, and Cadoc asked what was the worst that could happen. So Amaia grabbed it, pried to cork loose, and swallowed the drink in one gulp. ¡°Tastes like urine,¡± she said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know,¡± the shopkeeper said. ¡°And I will not ask why you do. You aren¡¯t paying for the taste, anyway.¡± ¡°We¡¯re aren¡¯t paying for one vial of something that doesn¡¯t even cure the disease, either,¡± I said. ¡°And it only lasts a day? How many does that gold buy us?¡± The shopkeeper stared at me for awhile before answering. ¡°Seven,¡± he said. ¡°Ten.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± He reached under the counter, grabbed a small bag, and laid it on the table. The vials inside clinked together when the bag moved. ¡°And,¡± Naomi interrupted, leaning forward, ¡°You, like, tell us who can get us the cure. There must be someone nearby who has it, right?¡± The shopkeeper squinted at her. ¡°Why do you say that? Naomi stammered. ¡°Well, like, y¡¯know, you live next to the, uh, thladem, right? So does everyone who gets bit, just, like, die?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the man said. ¡°Eventually.¡± ¡°Are you serious?¡± I asked. ¡°There not another alchemist we can go to?¡± The man shook his head. ¡°The townspeople here simply continue buying my potions to keep the poison at bay. It¡¯s better than dying, as long as they have the money.¡± I started to protest, but Naomi held up a hand telling me to stop talking. Instead, she pointed to the equipment behind the shopkeeper. ¡°That yours?¡± she asked. ¡°Who else¡¯s would it be?¡± ¡°You make all of the potions here yourself?¡± The man squinted again, suspicion clear on his face. ¡°Suppose I do.¡± ¡°Suppose I, like, didn¡¯t believe you.¡± The man smirked, the first smile I¡¯d seen on his face so far. ¡°Suppose I ask why.¡± Naomi smiled back. ¡°Suppose I know that equipment like that couldn¡¯t make half of the potions in here.¡± The smirk turned to a frown. ¡°Suppose I ask how the hell you¡¯d know something like that. You an alchemist?¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t take a cook to taste a bad meal,¡± she said. ¡°Or, uh, I mean, suppose I said- oh nevermind. You know what I¡¯m saying.¡± ¡°I do,¡± the man said. ¡°Yes, alright, I import some of this. Seems you already know that.¡± ¡°Do you mind if I ask where from?¡± ¡°From Coernet,¡± he said. ¡°Where else? And so what if I do charge a little more than they charge there. It¡¯s convenience, OK? No one here wants to take the trip, and no one who isn¡¯t turning wants to live in Coernet these days. I¡¯m doing the people here a service by allowing them to avoid that place, and I don¡¯t need you coming in here telling me I¡¯m ripping anyone off.¡± ¡°Who in Coernet?¡± Naomi asked. ¡°And why the hell does that matter?¡± ¡°Can they cure a thladem bite?¡± The man fell silent again. After a long time, he said that they probably could. ¡°And you weren¡¯t going to tell us that!¡± I shouted. ¡°You were just going let us keep buying your potions?¡± Cadoc drew his sword. ¡°To arms, Miles. There is a rogue here who requires justice.¡± But Amaia put a blackened hand on Cadoc¡¯s sword arm. Cadoc turned to face her. ¡°Let him tell us where to go, first,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Put your sword away, you fool,¡± the shopkeeper said. ¡°You think an alchemist doesn¡¯t surround himself with poisons? I have a vial in my pocket at all times which releases a noxious gas when exposed to common air. All I have to do it crush it, and you¡¯re all dead. But I have imbibed small amounts of it all of my life, and can breathe it with no effect. So stop your meaningless threats.¡± ¡°Suppose I burn the store down,¡± I retorted. ¡°You have a potion for that as well?¡± Naomi interjected again. ¡°Sir,¡± she said. ¡°Things here have gotten out of hand. I apologize for my companions. We only wish to, like, speak with your supplier, you know? Where can we find them? We will leave right away and leave you alone forever.¡± ¡°Coernet,¡± the man said. ¡°Like I said. Ask anyone there for the biggest alchemist in town, and you¡¯ll find them. Or if you¡¯re feeling brave, just look for that obnoxious manor they¡¯ve built themselves. It looms over the city. I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anywhere within the walls where you can¡¯t see it.¡± Naomi leaned close again. ¡°What is their name?¡± ¡°Why does that matter? Better you don¡¯t mention the name to anyone. Just ask for the-¡± and here he spit, ¡°Greatest alchemist around. Best not to make people think you¡¯re looking for them in particular.¡± ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°Better you don¡¯t know,¡± the shopkeeper said. ¡°Probably nothing, anyway. I still work with them, don¡¯t I? Despite- well, nevermind.¡± Naomi stared at him for awhile, clearly mulling over some question in her mind, deliberating on something - but what it was, I had no idea. Until a thought came to me. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s your parents he¡¯s talking about?¡± I asked. ¡°Why don¡¯t you just ask him?¡± Naomi froze, and a streak of red blushed her face. The shopkeeper, on the other hand, grew pale. His eyes went wide and buggish, and he was making a sound in his throat like he was choking. ¡°You,¡± he said, finally. ¡°You¡¯re a, a- you¡¯re one of them?¡± Naomi tried to interrupt, but he continued stammering. ¡°I didn¡¯t see it before, I- I¡¯m so sorry, madam. I apologize sincerely for what I said. The spitting, and the, I mean, I don¡¯t think the manor is really obnoxious, and, I mean, I just didn¡¯t know, I was just joking, you know?¡± Here he begun to laugh nervously. ¡°A joke between business partners, yes? I hadn¡¯t met you before, didn¡¯t know you were, but I mean, I don¡¯t normally withhold customers! Of course not. And I was going to tell you to go to Coernet, of course I was. I only wished to sell more of your potions first, you see? Try to sell a whole ton of them, and then tell you to go to Coernet, you understand? So that we both make more money, so that-¡° I heard nothing more after that, though I assume he continued blustering for a long time. Naomi hurriedly pushed us out of the store, cursing at me, and soon we were all outside. Cadoc was smart enough to grab the bag of vials on the way out. Book 2 Chapter 16 - Back on the Road Naomi refused to tell me what had just happened inside the store, instead insulting me until finally becoming quiet in the face of my continued interrogations - but even without her answers, I had formed my own ideas. Clearly she didn¡¯t want someone to know something about her parents. I was certain that that someone was me. Naomi was lying again. Had to be. Obviously we already knew that her parents were alchemists. We also already knew that her parents were in Coernet. But there must still have been something we didn¡¯t know, maybe something that even Naomi didn¡¯t know, that she didn¡¯t want us to know. That¡¯s what had gotten her so flustered when I mentioned her parents in front of the shopkeeper. She realized I was on to her. My theory was this: her parents were actually still wealthy. She told the truth about her parents moving, about her never having been to Coernet, but she lied about them becoming poor. That wasn¡¯t her reason for leaving and betraying us. It was as I¡¯d originally thought: she had the money, but didn¡¯t want to pay it. Maybe she was scared of disappointing her parents, as I¡¯d guessed before. The reason didn¡¯t matter, not really, because whatever the case, her parents did have money, and she intended to give me - us - none of it. Why ask the shopkeeper all those questions? I asked myself. Cadoc asked me the same question that night, when I confided in him, and I gave him the same answer I gave myself. ¡°Simple,¡± I said, talking in almost a whisper for fear that Naomi could hear me through the walls of the inn. ¡°Because she really doesn¡¯t know where her family is. They¡¯re in Coernet, sure, but beyond that, she doesn¡¯t know. That has to be it. ¡°She doesn¡¯t even know for sure how big the town is, let alone where in it she can find her parents. She had to gather information so that when we finally enter Coernet, she¡¯ll know which direction to flee to. Maybe her parents are powerful mages, or are rich enough to have guards that she thinks will protect her from me. Maybe she thinks that she can disappear into the crowds of the big town - maybe it¡¯s even a city, really - and rip off her collar in some back alley before I realize what¡¯s happened. She¡¯s thinking ¡®Hey, they¡¯ll be in Coernet. They have money. They can still buy the cure for Amaia. No harm, no foul.¡¯ She thinks I¡¯ll give up after that. ¡°She¡¯s wrong. ¡°For her, this is a matter of pride. A matter of not embarrassing herself in front of her mom and dad - at least I assume so. For me, it¡¯s life and death. ¡°I¡¯ll raze the whole city if that¡¯s what it takes. I¡¯m getting my money.¡± Cadoc was nodding. He had a surprisingly serious expression on his face. ¡°I see.¡± After getting the vials from the shopkeeper, we had decided to find an inn in Harfin for the night, as the sun was already evading the eyes of the waking, and at least three of us had still vivid memories of what came out at night in those parts. The vials would buy us a few days, so there was no reason to risk night-travel. Before that, though, we went around town, shopping for supplies. Thoughts of Naomi¡¯s second betrayal on the horizon ran through my head all the while, so I kept an eye on her at all times - she squirmed under my gaze after she noticed, and then made another snide remark about my being attracted to her, but I was too busy thinking to talk. We bought food which would keep - hard bread, honey, dried fish, that sort of thing. The merchants were more than happy to take our golden treasures, and although I was certain we were being at least a little bit ripped off, a single gilded plate was enough to fill our bags. Then came clothes. Naomi needed a change - already a third person had mistaken her for a prostitute, approaching me with coin in hand - which I wished dreadfully I could have accepted. I thought about it. I really did. I needed the money, and she owed me. Let her pay however she is able. She had a collar around her neck. She had to do what I said, or burn. I could have made her do it. I didn¡¯t. I refused the man before Naomi realized what he was asking for. But I didn¡¯t want any more proposals coming our way, nor the added attention, so we followed directions until we came to merchants selling armor and travelers¡¯ clothes. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. None of our clothes were in much better shape than Naomi¡¯s, so we all bought new outfits. Back at the inn, we rented two rooms, although I had insisted on only one. ¡°One room!¡± Naomi yelled. ¡°Are you crazy?¡± ¡°Cheaper,¡± I said. ¡°And I don¡¯t trust that you won¡¯t bail again.¡± ¡°Really,¡± she said, sounding almost disappointed. ¡°You still don¡¯t trust me? I want to help Amaia, I swear.¡± ¡°Miles,¡± Cadoc said, hand on my shoulder. ¡°I understand your concern. But we will cause quite a stir if we all stay in one room. People will think the rumors to be true.¡± Naomi looked taken aback. ¡°What rumors?¡± Amaia spoke up. ¡°The rumors about you being a prostitute.¡± Naomi blushed while I answered Cadoc. ¡°Rumors or no, I don¡¯t trust her, Cadoc.¡± ¡°I never did,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°But I trust Amaia. Let her watch the coward.¡± I turned to Amaia, who shrugged. ¡°Fine,¡± I said. I turned back to the innkeeper - who had been standing there the whole time. ¡°We¡¯ll take two rooms.¡± The innkeeper laughed. ¡°Forgive me. I know we have a reputation for being a place that doesn¡¯t ask questions, but do you always bathe in the town square?¡± I¡¯d never heard the expression before, but like all of the strange expressions I¡¯d heard in that dimension, it was obvious what it meant. ¡°Just give us the rooms,¡± I said. ¡°And a meal. You serve food, right?¡± We ate real food for the first time in what felt like years. It was mostly fish, but I don¡¯t mind fish, and anything would have tasted heavenly at that point. Most of the dishes were covered in a salty black sauce - which, I learned, was also made of fish - and complimented with spices I couldn¡¯t name. It was surprisingly tasty. No one was particularly talkative during the meal, though, and that contrasted heavily with the last big meal I remembered - the one we had just after leaving the dungeon. That one, although consisting only of roasted meat, was something like a party. This felt like the meal they serve at a wake. After the meal - in which all of us ate too much - we retired to our rooms. It was dark by then. But I stopped Amaia in the hall for a question first - Cadoc and Naomi were already in their respective rooms. ¡°You¡¯re still good to guard her?¡± I asked. I looked at her arm as I spoke - the blackness hadn¡¯t spread further, but was still a terrible sight. ¡°We could still all pack into one room, you know. Let you get some sleep. I¡¯m sure you need it.¡± Amaia shook her head. ¡°It won¡¯t be a problem. The innkeeper said there¡¯s a latch of steel on the door, and one on the window as well.¡± She stopped talking there, as if that explained everything. ¡°You do know that the latches are on the inside, right? That Naomi can just unlatch them?¡± Amaia smiled. ¡°Not when I¡¯m done with them.¡± I realized then what she meant. She could use her magic to bend the metal of the latches so that it was impossible to unlatch them - and then, in the morning, simply make them straight again. I laughed, and then we shook on it - I¡¯m not sure why, it just felt right. ¡°Hey,¡± I said after, finally looking her in the eye. ¡°I appreciate it. Really. Even though you¡¯re annoyingly terse, you might be the best companion I¡¯ve chosen to bring along so far. Not that you have much competition.¡± I stopped and thought about what I¡¯d just said. ¡°OK, actually, Lot might have been better. But second place isn¡¯t bad.¡± ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Not bad.¡± And with that characteristically short response, we parted ways. I didn¡¯t tell her what I was thinking about Naomi, because I thought she might just ask Naomi about it, and then Naomi would be on to me. Not that Amaia would betray me, just that she¡¯s so straightforward of a person that she might not even realize the error in what she was doing. I¡¯ll fill her in later, I thought, when she isn¡¯t alone in a room with Naomi. We rose early the next morning. I admired my new clothes as I dressed. A shirt of chain mail above, and a thin layer of leather below, made from some animal we certainly didn¡¯t have on earth. Both were light, the leather especially surprising me with how it didn¡¯t impede my motion. I squatted into a stretch, and the leather moved with me as if I was wearing nothing at all. Underneath the chain mail was an extremely thin piece of cloth, there only to stop chafing, and over the chain mail I wore a white shirt of what I thought to be linen, My pants were blue, and looked like denim, though they weren¡¯t. At a distance they looked like jeans, and it felt like a small connection to home. Something to help me remember. Over the shirt I wore a brown jacket with a short cloak attached - a longer one would be too likely to catch on fire, I thought. Over my feet I wore brown boots, of which I was very thankful. It might sound like a lot of clothes, but most of it was pretty light. I could take off the jacket when I was too warm. If anything, I was afraid my legs would get cold if the temperature dropped too much. After a breakfast of white fish with eggs and fish sauce, we set off. We were told that if we pushed ourselves, we could reach Coernet in only a day¡¯s time - but also that, if we didn¡¯t, there wasn¡¯t really anywhere to stay along the road. Hence our early morning departure. We took our first steps out of Harfin¡¯s gate before the day had even proceeded past twilight. The road between the towns was in significantly better condition than the one we had entered Harfin by. It was a road paved with stones, and though we met no other travelers on the way, the road was clearly well maintained. We met no travelers, but that doesn¡¯t mean we didn¡¯t meet someone. Or something, rather. The road ran along the river, though not directly beside it - a little more than a stone¡¯s throw away. The trees were a little thinner on this end of Harfin - in fact, for a mile or so there were hardly any trees at all, clearly having been cut down to build homes inside the town. But then they grew more numerous, and while to our left they weren¡¯t packed enough to block sight of the Blood, to our right was a near-permanent night, the sun obscured by the treetops. The edge of it was illuminated in the morning, but by midday no light was allowed inside. The scent of pine was strong, and it seemed to add to the claustrophobic nature of the wide road. I could hear animals around us, most of them not causing me to shudder or to quicken my pace. Sometime after midday the trees began to become sparser again, which for whatever reason reminded me of a balding man, and suddenly my mind was seized by the notion that we were marching across the forehead of giant with thinning hair. The soil, full of clay, had a tan color that could have easily matched some shade of skin. The river to the east was not the Blood, but his blood, flowing the wrong direction because of some wound further on - the giant¡¯s body must have been left hanging upside down. ¡°Look!¡± Naomi yelled, pointing, and I had to steel myself before looking, afraid to see the rest of the rotting corpse of the giant. But it was only the distant outline of a city - hard to see against the even more distant outline of Zinthur¡¯s mantle. ¡°We are making good time,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°We should be able to make it by nightfall, truly.¡± I laughed aloud at myself. My nerves are getting the better of me, I thought. Calm down, Miles, you idiot. But before I could really condemn myself anymore, my nervousness was proven correct. There was a clicking noise, high and piercing, and almost before we had time to draw our weapons, the creature was upon us. Book 2 Chapter 17 - Bug Squashing ¡°Look out!¡± It¡¯s a good thing that I was as nervous as I was, because I shouted early enough for everyone to react in time, if only barely. Cadoc, showing an uncharacteristic bit of situational awareness, quickly summoned a large square board just to our side, between us and the source of the sound. The board was quite thin, and almost immediately there were holes in it. Something had been launched at us, some liquid that dissolved the wood like acid, leaving a yellowish smoke behind and making a great hissing noise. And a moment later, a stream of the stuff was spilling through the holes. But by then, we were gone. We had booked it, Cadoc and Amaia going one direction, Naomi and I going another as I made sure to follow her, even then. So, from where we stood a little further up the road, we saw what had attacked us from the sparse woods to the west. Two black eyes like giant marbles rotated in a head unmoving, a head only slightly larger than a man¡¯s but with inhuman mandibles constantly snapping open and shut, and rather than ears, two antennae fidgeting wildly in the air but obscured by a fine mist that hung around it. Its skin - or rather, its exoskeleton - was the color of the clay soil, broken only by blackened splotches the same shade as Amaia¡¯s poisoned arm. Six spindly legs held its body in the air - its fat, bloated body which ended in a point, and that point was currently up and over its head in a back-breaking position, its abdomen bent over itself, and from the point a jet of liquid was rocketing out, steam billowing from it as it exited its hell-like bowels. The monster was about a man¡¯s height in length, and point of its weapon was in line with my eyes. Finally it realized that we had moved, and the stream of acid stopped. The antennae twitched and shifted, and it seemed like the insectoid monster was stuck, for a moment, in indecision. That strange clicking began again, though quieter than during the initial attack. ¡°Fuck,¡± I said, seeing the melted remains of the wooden board and realizing how close I¡¯d come to having a hole burnt through my side. Naomi said some similar expletive beside me at the same time, but I didn¡¯t catch it. ¡°You know what this is?¡± I asked, fumbling for my slingshot. ¡°No!¡± she yelled at me. ¡°How the hell would I know that? I¡¯ve like, never been here, remember?¡± I took my slingshot from my belt, then grabbed for my ammo. That was when I remembered I didn¡¯t have any ammo left. ¡°Shit.¡± The last thing I want to do it fight that thing up close. Why couldn¡¯t I have gotten a power that shoots from a distance? My new power was a vast improvement, but it was usable at medium range, at best. I was suddenly jealous of the bug. It was able to shoot streams of burning acid at distant targets, and I was stuck with the magical equivalent of a flammable hot-glue gun. We were at something of a standoff, the monster seemingly waiting for our next move. I considered what it should be. The monster was covered in a thick shell, and I wasn¡¯t sure if anything I did with my magic would get through. If I was able to completely cover it, maybe I would be able to cook its insides, but that would involve getting close enough to be melted alive myself. I drew my drows, but wasn¡¯t sure it would fare any better. Maybe the force of its blunt edge could crack open the carapace, but maybe not. And again, I¡¯d be in close range. Naomi, staff in hand beside me, was worthless. As always, I thought. Her golden dress waved in the wind behind her like it was daring the monster to attack. The dress which, I remembered, she had insisted on repairing rather than replacing, fitting a suit of that strange thin leather beneath it. She had chosen - while I was momentarily distracted - leather that was nearly the same shade as her deeply-tanned skin, such that, from a distance, she didn¡¯t look much more chaste than she had before - though there were less holes in the dress, and she had at least agreed to wear a cloak over it, an ostentatious white piece, more like a robe, that did make her look more like a mage in conjunction with the staff, but which had a bad habit of falling down to her shoulders in a way that didn¡¯t help our image at all. She¡¯s doing it on purpose, I had thought.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. She¡¯d also fished out a black and gold piece of jewelry from one of our bags. I didn¡¯t know jewelry well enough to know the correct term, but it was similar to the collar I¡¯d already put on her, reaching from high on her neck down to a few inches below the pit of her throat. Wearing it, you almost couldn¡¯t see the band of nail around her throat. I didn¡¯t mind. It would still burn her neck if it needed to. I shook my head, clearing away these thoughts. Worthless, I concluded. Cadoc could at least block the acid, it seemed, but only momentarily. As for actually doing damage to the thing, he was worse off than I was. I hadn¡¯t thought about it too much recently, but Cadoc¡¯s power was now significantly worse than mine, and seemed near useless - though it had just saved our lives, I supposed. Amaia was no more useful here. I glanced at her, afraid to take my eyes off of the monster for more than a second. She had her gilded sword grasped firmly in both hands. Her new outfit looked pristine, dark green clothes with a matching cloak thrown over her shoulders. Her pants were a grayish-white, and she wore long boots that came up nearly to her knees. The bottom of her shirt - or whatever you would call it - trailed a little behind her starting from her waist, which made it look like a dress. It was a surprisingly feminine choice, I had thought when she bought it, but somehow now it didn¡¯t give that impression at all. Above the waist the green fabric was tight around her chest and arms, revealing her less-than-feminine form, made less feminine still by the metal plates she wore underneath, strapped to her arms and legs. She wore white gloves as well that matched the pants, so there was no evidence of her black poisoning. She would be no more useful here than Cadoc - less useful, in fact, because while Cadoc could block with his wood, Amaia¡¯s control of metal would do nothing to the insect. I considered running. How fast could the monster move on six legs? That was option A. Option B, we try to get a sword into a weak spot - not that I saw any. The eyes, maybe? If Amaia was holding Naomi¡¯s staff, maybe she could swing a sword at it without getting too close. Like what she did in the dungeon. I don¡¯t know if her range is that long, though. Damn it. We really need to get something for distance fighting. An idea struck me. One of those obvious ideas that I always associated with Tom¡¯s superiority, but which now only made me angry at Naomi, and not myself. ¡°Naomi,¡± I said. ¡°Cut the fucker in half.¡± She looked at me suspiciously. ¡°You serious?¡± ¡°Just do it. We can carry you to Coernet. We¡¯re nearly there, anyway. Make yourself useful for once.¡± She stared at me for a second, and though I couldn¡¯t say for sure, I could have sworn she was chewing on the inside of her cheek. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°No, I¡­ no. I won¡¯t. I don¡¯t trust you.¡± My hands balled into fists, the one shaking the drows in the air in fury. ¡°Well you¡¯re going to have to get over it, because if you don¡¯t, then I have no use for you. You understand? Woosh. Up in flames. You¡¯ll distract the bug, at least.¡± ¡°You¡¯re bluffing.¡± ¡°You wanna bet?¡± I held my free hand out in front of me, but she only stared back. Before either of us killed the other, however, a shout rang out. I had looked away, and someone had gotten hurt - that¡¯s what I thought. I turned back quickly, and saw what I should have expected all along. Cadoc. Charging. Yelling. The bug reacted quickly, shooting its acid spray once again through newly billowing steam, but Cadoc summoned a board in front of him before it reached him. The board was disintegrated almost immediately, but Cadoc had thought ahead - or thought back, rather, to the worm-drakes in the dungeon. He used a similar trick - while summoning a board in front of him to block, he summoned another just before the creature¡¯s eyes. It bought him only a second, but a second was all he needed, as the spray stopped. He wasn¡¯t within striking range yet, but he was getting closer. The reason it had only bought him a second was because the monster was more adaptable that we could have assumed. It didn¡¯t even bother melting the board in front of it. Instead, its eyes suddenly shot up off of its beetle-like body with a noise like breaking bones and torn skin, and then its eyes were on newly born stalks, peering over the board. One eye turned to Cadoc, but the other noticed Amaia flanking from the other side. It decided to shoot acid at Cadoc, maybe thinking that he was the greater threat. The wrong choice. Amaia was now nearly upon the monster. Unlike Cadoc¡¯s wild yells, Amaia ran silently, but with purpose, sword held at her side. Just before she reached the monster, however, another change occurred. Next to the point from which the acid was rocketing towards Cadoc - who had stopped making any progress, instead having to focus on summoning boards and dodging sideways to avoid the acid - next to the acid point, the exoskeleton cracked and broke away and a new point formed, this one like the tip of a spear. I tried to yell some sort of warning, but I couldn¡¯t tell if I had or not. I couldn¡¯t hear anything. I felt that I should run towards Amaia, but I¡¯d never get there in time. It was the same as when Naomi¡¯s companions had died, and I could do nothing but watch - and those were only strangers. This was my friend. The spear point launched itself from the monster¡¯s body. Amaia was mid-swing, her blade about to come down on the stalks of the eyes. She didn¡¯t see it, I thought in horror. She didn¡¯t see it. And it¡¯s too late now. But she had, and it wasn¡¯t. At the last minute before the projectile impaled her, her arm flew up in a flash, quicker than anyone¡¯s arm should be able to move, and the fired stinger ricocheted impotently off of the metal plate on her forearm. And she hadn¡¯t even stopped her swing, only let go with one hand. With her other hand she completed the arc, lobbing off both eyes at once. The monster made a noise like a scream opening its mouth wide, mandibles shutting and opening wildly, but it got no chance for a counterattack. Cadoc was there, and with a final yell he stabbed his new blade into the open maw of the monster. He must have struck something important, because within moments, it was dead. Somewhere along the way I had started running towards them - I could hardly remember when - and it seemed Naomi had come, too. So shortly after the monster¡¯s hard carapace hit the ground with a thud, we were there. Amaia glanced at us as we approached. ¡°You two could have helped, you know.¡± I smiled. And before Naomi could stammer out a response, Cadoc interrupted. ¡°No need,¡± he said, drawing his sword out from the monster¡¯s corpse. ¡°I could have done it myself, if I needed to.¡± ¡°That isn¡¯t true,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Now is not the time to argue, friends,¡± Cadoc said. He was beaming. ¡°Now is the time to test out my new magic.¡± Book 2 Chapter 18 - Ballista Cadoc seemed to already have an idea of what was going to happen - although I had thought the same thing myself when I used my new magic, and had been mistaken. He approached the corpse of the insectoid monster and, after only looking at it for a moment, laid his hand over its side, over a gap between two seams of exoskeleton that I either hadn¡¯t noticed before, or simply wasn¡¯t there until the creature had died. Maybe its body was unstable in some way, unable to keep itself together for even moments after death without cracking. Cadoc¡¯s hand didn¡¯t quite touch the corpse, leaving a couple inches of air in between. ¡°What do you think it will be?¡± Naomi asked in a half-whisper - we had all grown quiet after hearing that Cadoc had reached the Second Ring. ¡°Anything would be better than summoning sticks,¡± I said, momentarily forgetting my disdain for the person I was talking to. Cadoc didn¡¯t appear to hear us. Although he was grinning slightly, he looked surprisingly pensive. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, appearing from nowhere, was a stick. It slid slowly out of some invisible point, and the only thing that looked different about it compared to Cadoc¡¯s existing magic was that the stick was pointed, sharpened like a spear. It quickly reached the surface of the bug body, failed to even scratch it, and then slid along the corpse as Cadoc slightly moved his hand. ¡°Great,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ve gone from sticks to pointy sticks. I guess he absorbed something having to do with the monster¡¯s stinger that it shot out. At least we¡¯ll save time on sharpening.¡± ¡°Bear with me a moment, friends,¡± Cadoc responded. ¡°I am still discovering how it works.¡± While disappointing, I couldn¡¯t say I wasn¡¯t a little happy about having stronger magic than Cadoc. Power was rewarding in a way I¡¯d never realized back on Earth - never had the chance to, naturally. Though I could never imagine him turning on me, something primal in me enjoyed knowing that I could burn up his sticks in a flash if I needed to. And then there was Naomi, with her slave collar. In theory she could slice me in half, but in practice, I had defeated her. If I focused only on the power - and not the guilt, or even the debt - then I was really becoming quite pleased with my position. The main exception was Amaia, both because her poisoning put a damper on my mood, and also because she could probably still beat me in single combat - although if I didn¡¯t use anything metal, who could say. She had too many tricks up her sleeves, perhaps literally - I had seen how quickly her arm had moved in that fight, and was suspicious. Before I could think more on the topic, Cadoc had summoned another pointy stick. This one, again, began to appear from a point of empty space a little in front of his hand. This time, however, the tip shot out like an arrow from a drawn bow, and the sharpened point pierced the corpse¡¯s side. In the space of a second, a stick about the length of Cadoc¡¯s arm had speared itself into the corpse and out the other side, newly-coated in strangely-colored blood. ¡°Oh shit,¡± I said. Naomi cheered. ¡°Wow,¡± she said. ¡°Like, wow. Does it work on anything? Could you spear a tree?¡± Cadoc happily obliged her curiosity. Smiling, he walked over to a young tree, trunk not much wider than the torso of a child. He put his hand to its side. He kept it there for awhile, but his eyebrows knitted together and it looked almost like he was beginning to sweat. I wondered if he was able to charge the magic, and perhaps the first try had been so weak because he hadn¡¯t. The stick launched out - and seemed to get stuck. Not in the tree, but in the air. The tip appeared, shot forward, hit the tree, discovered it could not pierce it, and then the stick simply stopped appearing - because you couldn¡¯t see where the spear was coming from, it looked like it grew a couple of inches, then simply stopped. Then it fell to the ground, a stubby wooden point. ¡°Guess not,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Still,¡± I said, ¡°We don¡¯t fight many enemies made of wood. If it can pierce the bug thing, then it can pierce skin, and that¡¯s a day-wrecker for anyone on the wrong end of that pointy stick.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. As if to reassure himself, Cadoc walked back over to the corpse and sent another spear rocketing through it. Sure enough, it pierced and skewered it, running clear in one side and out the other. ¡°It¡¯s perfect,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Any combatant within range will find a sword in their side and a spear through their neck.¡± Range. The word hit me. ¡°Can you shoot it?¡± I asked, remembering my lament that we didn¡¯t have enough ranged attacks. Cadoc shrugged. ¡°Oh!¡± Naomi said excitedly. ¡°I hope he can.¡± ¡°What are you so excited about?¡± I asked. ¡°You¡¯re now officially the weakest one here.¡± ¡°Weakest?¡± she answered indignantly. ¡°And, like, how did you make that calculation? I could still cut you in half, y¡¯know.¡± ¡°First of all, you keep making that threat, and yet here we are, collar still on, me still in control. Second of all, you¡¯re the only one still in the First Ring.¡± She didn¡¯t answer. This time, Cadoc stood planted in place, his frame tilted slightly backwards, his hand raised at something like a forty-five degree angle. The stick launched. I hadn¡¯t expected much - at best, a range similar to if it had been thrown. Instead, the simple spear shot out like a ballista, and I traced its arc through the sky until I lost it somewhere towards the outline of Coernet in the distance. ¡°Woah woah, wait up-¡° but Naomi interupted me. She was practically jumping up and down. ¡°Do it again!¡± she yelled. ¡°This is perfect. Maybe I¡¯ve finally found it.¡± Cadoc launched another two spears in quick succession, and even at such a pace they were launched impressively far. ¡°Stop!¡± I yelled over Naomi¡¯s cheering. ¡°Look at where you¡¯re shooting. Some poor fucker in town is going to get impaled from the sky.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t believe it¡¯s shooting that far, Miles,¡± he answered. ¡°But still, you are right. Let us not risk it. Besides, while the coward may be impressed, she fights at a distance because she is scared of combat. I don¡¯t believe I¡¯ll find much use for shooting.¡± ¡°Well let¡¯s not get too hasty here,¡± I said. ¡°Shooting at that kind of range is incredibly useful. We need something like that. As a team.¡± Naomi was muttering under her breath. ¡°Some team,¡± she said, mood suddenly soured. ¡°The coward, he called me. You¡¯re allowed to be friendly, y¡¯know. Especially when someone¡¯s giving you compliments.¡± Cadoc ignored her and spoke to me. ¡°You were the one who just said it was too dangerous to civilians, friend.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I admitted. ¡°But we could adjust that, I¡¯m sure. Shoot it at slightly less range, and not aim it towards inhabited towns. But you¡¯re probably right anyway. The chances of it actually hitting someone are practically-¡° ¡°Stop!¡± A voice cried out from the distance. It was coming from the direction of Coernet. Within moments a small troop of armed men in near-identical outfits were upon us, each armed with weapons like spears but with long blades on the ends instead of points. They were dressed in a metal armor that shined in the sunlight like it was recently greased. ¡°Zero,¡± I finished. Great. Cadoc actually impaled someone, and now the police are here. What¡¯s worse, he¡¯ll probably offer to kill himself as a form of restitution. Just when he was becoming useful. The guards held their weapons out towards us, and I debated whether or not we were about to murder some guards. I¡¯d almost done it before, way back - or at least I¡¯d threatened to, revolver in hand. But before I drew my drows, the guards visibly relaxed. They were looking at the dead bug. A man, slightly taller than his compatriots, stepped forward. He wore a helmet shaped vaguely like the beaked visage of an eagle. The other guards wore helmets as well, but theirs were less decorated. The man lifted up his pointed visor, revealing the same pale complexion we¡¯d seen in Harfin. ¡°We heard reports of Lexpajal activity,¡± he said. His voice was surprisingly high - not quite like a woman¡¯s but more like a child¡¯s. ¡°It seems they were truthful. You have slain it, or only found it.¡± ¡°Slain it,¡± Cadoc said. The man nodded. ¡°You have quite the little party here, then.¡± He looked at us all one by one. We met eyes for a moment, but they may as well have been two hunks of lifeless amber. ¡°We could use the likes of you in the garrison.¡± ¡°We¡¯re travelers,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re not looking to settle down. We were on our way to Coernet.¡± He nodded. ¡°That, at least, is something. If we are attacked while you remain in the town, perhaps I can convince you to join a sortie. Come. We will lead you to town.¡± He turned without waiting for our consent, and I wondered whether we were being offered an escort or being forced to come with. Amaia shrugged at me, and Cadoc and Naomi made no protest. I returned the shrug, and we followed behind the guards. There were five of them, and their armor made surprisingly little noise as they marched. Maybe it was because of the oil, or grease, or whatever. I¡¯d only been in a world that used armor at all for a short time, so I was still largely unfamiliar with the finer points. The sun was already beginning to set, and the leader of the guards - of the whole ¡°garrison,¡± perhaps - commented on this as we walked, not turning back to so much as glance at us as he spoke. ¡°You are lucky to have come before nightfall. One Lexpajal would not have been all you found.¡± ¡°We know,¡± I answered. ¡°We¡¯ve met worse in the woods already.¡± ¡°And yet you live,¡± the guard answered. ¡°I will ask you to join the garrison many times while you are here. I am warning you of this now.¡± ¡°I will say no just as many times,¡± I said. Then I paused, and said, ¡°Unless the pay is amazing, that is.¡± ¡°Ha! Yes, well, that could be discussed. What is your business in Coernet, anyway?¡± ¡°We¡¯re looking for-¡° but before I could finish the sentence, an elbow was jammed into my side. Naomi¡¯s. It was obvious enough what she didn¡¯t want me saying. I wasn¡¯t planning on it anyway, but almost did just to spite her. Ultimately, I decided against it - why give these strangers more information than they needed? ¡°One of us has been poisoned,¡± I said. ¡°We were told we could find a cure here.¡± The guards stopped at the word poisoned, and I finished my sentence only out of momentum, trailing off towards the end. They turned to face us, hands once again on their weapons. ¡°Which one?¡± the leader asked, his voice growing serious again. I narrowed my eyes at him. ¡°What do you mean to do?¡± I asked. ¡°I feel like I am being threatened.¡± ¡°Perhaps you are,¡± the leader said. ¡°If you would sneak one about to turn into our walls. If they are within the limits, we will do them no harm, only bring them to a healer. But we cannot suffer a monster to live.¡± ¡°A monster?¡± I asked, but Cadoc had already drawn his sword. ¡°Then we are all monsters,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°And you will die fighting us.¡± Amaia, though looking quite confused, drew her sword as well. I followed suit, sighing. ¡°Then you are indeed enemies. You would endanger us all to save yourselves.¡± The man shook his head, and then replaced his visor. ¡°You hid yourself well, even killed that Lexpajal to gain our trust. But your lips were too loose, and now you will die.¡± Book 2 Chapter 19 - Coernet There was a voice shouting inside of my head, screaming at me to stop, to talk this out, that there had to be some kind of misunderstanding. It doesn¡¯t even make sense, it said. City guards don¡¯t just go around killing people because they¡¯re sick. They are mistaking you for someone else. Think about it, Miles. You don¡¯t need to fight them. I didn¡¯t care. I knew that I should speak up. I knew that I should raise my hands in the air and say ¡°wait a minute, guys, she¡¯s just sick! Look!¡± and then they¡¯d understand and they¡¯d apologize, maybe buy us a drink or something. It¡¯s what Tom would have done. Maybe that¡¯s exactly why I didn¡¯t want to do it. I was finally free from Tom. I had needed him, once, but I had proven that even a spark-less NPC like me could, through the sheer power of hatred, destruction, and billowing flames, make my will manifest in that world. The idea of listening to that voice in my head, before such a comfort to me, now grated at my psyche. Tom was a tool I used, I thought. A tool to make up for my deficiencies. He was a skin I wore, a mask I molded out of my own flesh and blood. But like all tools, they have alternate uses. One side of the hammer pounds in the nail, and the other side rips them loose. Copying - no, that isn¡¯t the right word - Loving Tom helped keep me together. And hating Tom helps me tear it all apart. I raised my drows in one hand while liquid nail dripped from the other. I let it burn, a flaming waterfall flowing from my fingertips, hungry. Beside me stood Cadoc, and I¡¯d never felt more like a brother to him than I did then. Our violence needed no justification. They attacked us first, so let us call it defending the honor of our friends. Any excuse to fight. Any excuse to prove ourselves different. His stance was similar to my own, sword in one hand, the other ready to launch his magic. I could see his eyes searching for gaps in the enemy¡¯s armor, places that a spear could pierce unsuspecting veins and organs. Amaia was ready as well, her gilded sword glimmering in the retreating light - we had almost made it to Coernet by nightfall. Why did she fight? Novelty? The guards weren¡¯t ready. I couldn¡¯t see their eyes behind their visors, but I could feel their fear. When my melted nails were pouring into those visors, when they ignited and melted the flesh, what would they think? Would they regret messing with me? Would they realize the mistake they had made? I couldn¡¯t see their faces, but I felt certain one of them was this dimension¡¯s version of Ryan, and that he deserved it. And if that was true, wouldn¡¯t I be making the world a better place? We¡¯d get away with it, too. No one in Coernet knew us. There would be no witnesses. Naomi was yelling. I couldn¡¯t hear her. Didn¡¯t want to. I charged. A bright light, then a flash. Something shot past within inches of my nose, and I felt the wind move my clothes as it went. I stopped dead in my tracks so that I wouldn¡¯t run into it. It was like the concept of a cut made into a physical reality. It would have sliced straight through me. It was Naomi¡¯s magic. I turned to her, and decided then that she would be first. I¡¯d ignite her, and the guards would be forced to watch as she burned, knowing intimately that they would be next. She was holding Amaia¡¯s arm, staff cradled in the crook of her shoulder. She had pulled back Amaia¡¯s sleeve, revealing the inky blackness of the arm underneath. ¡°Look!¡± she yelled. ¡°She¡¯s not turning! She was hit by a thladem!¡± She was trying, once again, to take from me what was mine. I held out my hand, and I could vaguely hear the leader of the armored men shouting out some sort of apology. It didn¡¯t stop me. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Suddenly my arm was seized. I wheeled around, ready to strike down with my drows whoever dared touch me, crack their skull wide enough open that I could melt their brains with my nails. In the meantime, I let the nails keep flowing and burning down towards the criminal hand - let them know that touching me is like grabbing a burning coal, and that such actions have consequences. I turned, swinging my weapon. It was Cadoc. For a fraction of a second, I let the drows keep falling. In that second, I didn¡¯t care. In that second, even Cadoc deserved what was coming to him. But I regained myself just in time. I veered it away from his head and let the strike die in the air. ¡°It is over, Miles,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°There is no fight here, friend.¡± It was like a light-switch being flipped off. Suddenly the hatred that fueled me was gone, and in its place was my oldest companion of all - Shame. Reality snapped back into place, but still I couldn¡¯t hear what was said between the guard and the women, the apologies and the explanations. I only stared at the burnt hand grasping my forearm. I dropped my drows and dammed up my fingertips. It really felt that like, as well. Like it was harder not to let them flow, to let them burn. As if it used up mana to contain it, rather than to use it. That wasn¡¯t true, I knew, but the feeling was vivid. I tried to get water from my pack, to pour it over Cadoc¡¯s burns - I discovered much later that I had burned myself nearly as badly. But he waved it off with a smile. ¡°I have had much worse, friend,¡± he said. ¡°Think nothing of it. I will buy a potion in Coernet. I will be fine.¡± I was blubbering at him all the while, and I can¡¯t fully recall all that I said. But I do remember asking what I was, who I was, if I truly was a monster and whether the guards ought really to strike me down. ¡°You are a brave man,¡± Cadoc answered. ¡°Perhaps even braver than I. Fearless.¡± I knew he was wrong, and so the words didn¡¯t help me at all. The rest of the walk to Coernet passed like something unseen. We had to carry Naomi, but I could never recall which of us did the carrying. The guards put us up in an inn for the night - the night which had fallen somewhere along the way. They said it was the least they could do, after having nearly murdered us. They probably used different words. The leader introduced himself as Zuan, and told us to seek him out when we needed him, what he still owed us and would do all he could to assist us. Cadoc asked him for directions, shook his hand, and then Zuan was gone. Somehow I made it into a bed. Somehow I slept. My dream had no duration. It existed only within the second in which I had let the drows keep falling. - When I awoke, I was surprised to find Naomi still with us. But then I realized that she probably hadn¡¯t even woken up since using her staff, and so it wasn¡¯t at all a sign of new-found loyalty. We were all in one large room with four beds, though the men and women were at least separated to beds on opposite walls. I guess Zuan is broke. Couldn¡¯t afford to repay us with two rooms. Everyone else was still asleep - behind the curtains that covered the one window peeked out the faint twilight of early morning. I had been sleeping in my clothes, so it took no time at all for me to slip out of the inn - ignoring the snoozing innkeeper at the front desk. Outside, I got my first conscious look at the town. The city. The inn faced east, so my first sight was the sun cresting the distant horizon. It colored the river a deeper shade of red than usual, so that in the morning light it truly looked like fresh blood running north towards - towards whatever we would have found, if we had continued on Naomi¡¯s false path. The river was no narrower here than anywhere, wider than any river I¡¯d ever seen on earth, and yet I could see from where I stood a bridge, large beyond description, spanning the monstrous width. It rose from wide and soaring pillars like skyscrapers, each carved into the figure of some man, and I could only assume they were some sort of famous heroes. Each held his hands high over his head, one seeming to support the weight of the road above, the other making some sort of symbol with three fingers held up. The road above was paved with brick, at least as far as I could tell from a distance. The scale of it rivaled anything I ever seen on earth, even buildings built with modern technology. I wondered if magic had been used in its construction. Beneath it sailed ships, some larger than Earth mansions, which still passed between the supporting arms of the stone men with no fear of hitting their masts on the bottom of the bridge - no ship came close. Mixed among these were smaller fishing boats like I had seen Harfin. The builders of the bridge had not taken the easy path. The Blood split into two rivers just downriver from the bridge - if they had built it even half a mile further down, they would have had a significantly easier job. Instead, they bridged the river at its widest point. Few ships sailed downstream in either direction, either north or the diverting path northeast. Nearly all of them sailed south against the flow, or else were heading towards one of the many moorings along the riverbank. I wondered again how they propelled themselves. I saw oars sticking out of some, but others seems to move with full sails even though the air felt dead and windless. To my left was a wide gate, and from it ran a wide avenue, all made of brick. To my right the avenue continued into Coernet proper - we were barely inside the walls. The walls ran along behind me, and I traced their path. They curved wide, encompassing the massive city of tall copper-colored buildings, then rose to climb first one hill west of town, then another to the south, before finally ending alongside the bridge¡¯s far shoulder. The river was mostly left unwalled - whoever had built the walls didn¡¯t fear an attack from the water. Everything within the walls and the hills was filled, buildings the color of Zinthur¡¯s blood, which, like the river, turned blood red under the rising sun. It was a massive city, and even so early in the morning there were signs of activity everywhere. Carts being pulled, laborers repairing some damaged bit of wall, merchants setting up stalls before morning crowds swarmed them. Some dwellings seemed to have been built into the hills themselves - I say hills, but they were nearly mountains, and seemed only hills compared to the still-distant shadow of the looming Mantle. The hillside dwellings were only visible as the light glinted off of the windows. And above all these, sitting atop the southern hill, was a building like a temple, square and vaguely pyramid shaped, shining with a white - and slightly yellow, at second look - marble, which made it look alien compared to the red and copper sitting below it. A mayan pyramid was the closest comparison I could make, if some paranoid Persian prince had moved to the Yucatan and turned the pyramid into a strange compound. A presence behind me. Cadoc. I wasn¡¯t sure when he had stepped outside. ¡°Zuan told me last night. That,¡± he said, pointing. ¡°Is where the alchemists live.¡± Book 2 Chapter 20 - You Wish It wasn¡¯t long before Amaia and Naomi were up as well, joining Cadoc and I where we stood just outside the inn¡¯s door, peering out over the red-cast city. We turned when we heard the door opening. ¡°Look who it is,¡± Naomi said as she stepped out. ¡°The murderous psychopath who almost got everyone killed.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll have to be more specific,¡± I said. The joke was approaching an insult, but Cadoc laughed. Even Amaia cracked a grin. I guessed a good night¡¯s rest had gotten us in a better mood, overall. Naomi scoffed. ¡°Y¡¯know, if it wasn¡¯t for me, those guards really would have killed you. You were, like, outnumbered.¡± ¡°Notice,¡± I said, turning to Cadoc, ¡°How she uses the word ¡®you,¡¯ and not ¡®us.¡¯¡± ¡°Oh, come on,¡± she said. ¡°I saved your life back there. Again. You can stop treating me like I¡¯m a criminal. I think maybe even a ¡®thank you¡¯ is in order.¡± I finally met her eyes and looked at her. She stood on the top step leading out from the inn, hands on her hips, looking down her nose at me - something I¡¯d seen her do often, although she was too short for it to look right, usually. Amaia stood near her at the bottom of the steps, a thin smile on her face. One night¡¯s sleep had not fully devoured my guilt. I remembered the way that violence had taken hold of me. In the moment, I had felt completely in control - more in control than ever in my life, in fact. Afterwards, it felt like the actions of a different person. I would have killed them, I thought, and I knew it was true. I would have actually killed them. Nolan was¡­ was self-defense. But not this. It would have maybe looked like self-defense, and maybe I could tell people that it was, could even tell myself that it was, but I¡¯d never really believe it. I¡¯d know. There were already so many things in my life to be ashamed of that I really was grateful not to add cold-blooded murder to the list. I sighed. ¡°Fine. Thank you.¡± Naomi let out a loud laugh, haughty and proud. ¡°Was that so hard? Now take this collar off of me. Or let me do it myself.¡± ¡°When we¡¯re so close to your parents?¡± I said. ¡°Fat chance.¡± Naomi took a step forward - down a step - and reached out to me, placing her hand on my shoulder. She gave me the softest look she had in - well, maybe ever. ¡°Come on, Miles. Remember when we were friends? When I stabbed a woman for you? When we, like, watched a couple of exhibitionists bang in a cave?¡± Amaia blushed, although she¡¯d heard us recount the story before. ¡°Why can¡¯t we be friends again? I made a mistake. I admit it. I apologize. But let¡¯s move past it! ¡°We make a good team,¡± Naomi continued. ¡°You¡¯re like, like a¡­¡± she thought for a moment. ¡°Like a rabid dog! My rabid dog, who bites and yaps and like, attacks people, and occasionally I¡¯ve got to save you when you try to bite the wrong man¡¯s calf.¡± ¡°Wow,¡± I said, shaking her off of me and taking a step back. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you almost convinced me there. I was really thinking about it, until you called me a dog.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a compliment!¡± Naomi yelled, hands on her hips again. ¡°Everyone loves dogs.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± Amaia said. Naomi stared at her for a moment. ¡°Ok,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Well, most people love dogs, y¡¯know? Don¡¯t get so upset over a compliment.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re saying you love me,¡± I said, now fully resolved to fuck with her. ¡°I should have known. I still haven¡¯t forgotten how you tried to peek at me in the hot springs, before you got yourself kidnapped.¡± Now she blushed as well - mission accomplished. Clearly it only made her more angry, though. ¡°Oh,¡± she said. ¡°Like you¡¯re one to talk. I see you, you pervert, looking at me whenever you get the chance. Shameless. That¡¯s why you¡¯re so, like, aggressive. You¡¯re, I don¡¯t know, sexually frustrated or something.¡± This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Ouch. ¡°If anyone is sexually frustrated, it¡¯s the woman who chooses to wear that,¡± I said, pointing at her dress. ¡°What, looking for attention?¡± ¡°It¡¯s nice!¡± she said. ¡°I like it. It¡¯s very pretty.¡± ¡°People mistook you for a prostitute.¡± ¡°It was falling apart! I had, like, you know, like, half a boob hanging out. It¡¯s fine now.¡± ¡°So far,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ll see how many offers we get walking through town.¡± ¡°Oh, shut up!¡± ¡°I¡¯ll talk as much as I want, thank you very much. Remember that you¡¯re still the one wearing the collar.¡± ¡°And yet you¡¯re still the dog,¡± she retorted. ¡°Fuck you.¡± ¡°You wish.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure when it had started, but somewhere along the way, Cadoc had begun laughing. Then Amaia joined in as well, and by the time Naomi had spoken those last words, I could barely hear them over the sounds of laughter. Cadoc was laughing openly, while Amaia was still trying to keep a straight face and failing completely. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?!¡± I yelled, and Naomi yelled the same thing at exactly the same time. At this, the two burst out laughing again - Amaia¡¯s composure broke completely, the laughter spilling out like water through a demolished dam. Cadoc was laughing even harder, bowled over. Naomi and I stood there awkwardly for what felt like a very long time before the two composed themselves again. We both stared, waiting for an explanation. ¡°Well,¡± Cadoc said, finally, while trying to catch his breath. ¡°I believe Amaia and I are both happy that our companions are on good terms again, truly.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Amaia said, nodding. ¡°Friends again.¡± She covered her mouth to hide another laugh. ¡°We are not-¡± I started to say, but once again Naomi spoke the same words in unison, and that caused an aftershock of laughter to resound through Cadoc and Amaia. When they finally finished, Naomi and I were both scared to speak, and so said nothing. - When we were all able to be somewhat serious again, Cadoc told us what he had been told by Zuan. We spoke while walking down the wide avenue deeper into the city. There still weren¡¯t too many people out yet that early in the morning, but there were some - many wearing hoods or otherwise obscuring themselves such that I couldn¡¯t get a good look at anyone. It made sense, though, because it was surprisingly cold, considering how warm the trip to Coernet had been, and how warm the Blood was which flowed along the city. I could see my breath as we walked and, shockingly, even a little shimmering aura above the water to our left, showing that the river, at least, had not cooled. ¡°He informed me that there is only one alchemist shop in the city, these days. There used to be many, he said, but they have all shut down after these new ones arrived - whenever that was. These alchemists, he said, are of a higher caliber, and were able to cure diseases previously thought uncurable, and arrest the spread of others when a cure could not be had. He did not elaborate on these diseases.¡± ¡°I hope we don¡¯t catch anything,¡± I said. ¡°Catch?¡± Naomi said. ¡°What do you mean, catch?¡± I blinked, realizing what might be the problem. ¡°Do you people not believe in germs?¡± ¡°Never heard of them,¡± Amaia answered. ¡°Are they a sort of monster?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°Are they not valuable, then? Not good to eat? Are you thinking of catching some game for food, friend?¡± I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s a thing from my country, I suppose. How do you guys think diseases spread?¡± ¡°Diseases spread differently in the heavens?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°They spread through these ¡®germs,¡¯ then?¡± ¡°Yeah, something like that.¡± ¡°Weird,¡± Amaia said. Naomi scoffed. ¡°I almost forgot you were some sort of demigod. How is it possible for a god to raise someone like you? How does the divine blood not make you, like, nicer or something?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± I said. ¡°Well, Miles,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Diseases down here are spread through toxins, pollutants, poisons - and so on. Once enough toxins build up in a person, they become ill. The illness is really the body trying to expel the toxins - through snot, or sweating, or through diarrhea. So it¡¯s a good thing - someone who gets poisoned but is not ill is in more danger, because the poison is not going away.¡± ¡°Like Amaia, you mean?¡± ¡°Amaia has been drinking a lot of water,¡± Cadoc answered. ¡°So her body is likely trying to piss it out.¡± ¡°Ew!¡± Naomi yelled. ¡°Why are we talking about this?¡± Amaia said nothing. ¡°I see,¡± I said, ignoring Naomi. ¡°But then shouldn¡¯t she get better?¡± ¡°The body can¡¯t always keep up,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°So then you die before the poison is fully removed.¡± ¡°Huh,¡± I said. I expected him to talk about miasma or something, and that it would just sound completely insane. This almost makes sense, though. I could see why someone would believe it. ¡°Well, either way,¡± I said. ¡°If you see anyone who looks sick, stay away from them, alright?¡± ¡°How do you propose we do that, friend?¡± Cadoc asked. I realized what I had just said. ¡°Not including Amaia, obviously. I mean, anyone else. If they¡¯ve got snot running down their face or something, stay away.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Amaia asked. ¡°I-¡± I wasn¡¯t sure how to answer. ¡°It¡¯s hard to explain. But trust me, alright?¡± Naomi muttered under her breath, ¡°I¡¯m not exactly seeking out people covered in snot anyway, y¡¯know.¡± ¡°Back on topic,¡± I said. ¡°There¡¯s one alchemist shop in town, got it. They¡¯re up in that crazy temple-looking building? Are they Naomi¡¯s parents?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Cadoc answered. ¡°But yes to the first question. They live up in the ¡®manor,¡¯ Zuan called it. It was built there recently. But their shop is at the bottom of the hill, directly below it.¡± I turned to Naomi. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s your parents?¡± She shrugged. ¡°I mean, they weren¡¯t that rich when I left them, but hey, good on them if they bounced back that fast, y¡¯know?¡± ¡°So there might still be a reward?¡± ¡°You mean if you don¡¯t burn my head off in the meantime, like you keep threatening? Yeah, I don¡¯t know, maybe. No promises, though. Maybe they put all their money into the house. Like I said, we were a poor family last I knew. Maybe they¡¯re one of the alchemists who lost their businesses. Or maybe they work for the owners of the manor.¡± ¡°How long ago did you last see them?¡± She blew air out of her lips. ¡°Maybe, like, a year? Two? I kind of lost track of time. Busy being a super successful adventuress, y¡¯know?¡± ¡°There is no way adventuress is a word.¡± ¡°Well, you¡¯re wrong,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Some of us received a quality education and know these things.¡± ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± Amaia said. ¡°It is a word.¡± ¡°See?¡± Naomi said. ¡°Well, whatever. Whoever runs the shop, they should be able to help with Amaia, at least. So our next step is the same either way.¡± We continued deeper into the city, the sun climbing higher in the sky on its slow ascent. More and more people began to crowd the streets around us. Cadoc was the first to notice. He put his hand on his sword, and though he hadn¡¯t drawn it yet, I knew something must be up. ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, looking around. I only saw regular-looking townspeople. ¡°Fuck, I hope we don¡¯t get knocked out and thrown in a cart again.¡± ¡°Look ahead,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°To the right. The figure with the gray hood. But don¡¯t draw its attention, friends. It hasn¡¯t noticed us yet.¡± I looked, and all I could see there was a man. In fact, I could even see his face, so I wasn¡¯t sure why Cadoc has called him an ¡°it.¡± He had a gray hood, and some little decorative thing on his head, two pieces of which stuck out from the hood. ¡°It¡¯s just some guy,¡± I said. ¡°What-¡± And then, while I was still looking, the little straw shaped decorations on his head moved. Not blown by the wind or anything like that. They twitched. The man had two antennae. Book 2 Chapter 21 - Tear, or Burn? This must be what Zuan was worried about earlier, I thought. Some sort of monster infiltrator or something. I flexed my fingers, maneuvering the mana towards the tips. Cadoc¡¯s hand was still on the hilt of his sword. I stared at the hooded man, trying to see if there were any other signs of his inhumanity. Clearly the hood was meant to hide the antennae, but he fucked up. Suddenly there was a long wooden staff in between me and the antennae man. ¡°Hey,¡± Naomi said. ¡°What the hell do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± ¡°What does it look like?¡± ¡°It looks like you¡¯re about to start another stupid fight for absolutely no reason.¡± I turned to her. She was holding her staff out in front of me to block my path - though I could have easily pushed her aside. ¡°What do you mean no reason? That guy is,¡± I dropped my voice to a whisper, ¡°That guy is clearly some sort of monster.¡± ¡°So it isn¡¯t a trick of my eyes, then,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Even here there are enemies at every turn. Get ready to fight, friends.¡± ¡°Ready,¡± Amaia said. ¡°No!¡± Naomi said. ¡°Stop it, you idiots, that¡¯s just some random fucking man. Do not attack strangers in the streets! Why do I even have to say that?¡± ¡°Look at the top of his head,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Beneath the hood. That is no human man. He is some sort of skinwalker, clearly, but all shapeshifters retain part of their old form, as even the children know.¡± Naomi turned to look, although she still didn¡¯t step out of the way. ¡°Oh, that?¡± she said. ¡°Yeah, well, that is, like, unfortunate and all, but he isn¡¯t a monster. He just started to turn.¡± I realized suddenly what she meant, and what Zuan really must have meant before. ¡°Is there a dungeon that close to town?¡± I asked. ¡°Ah,¡± Cadoc said, taking his hand from his sword. ¡°Poor fool. If you are certain to die as a monster, is it not better to die struggling through the dungeon for a chance of survival? Instead he lives his life here as normal, waiting for death to find him. Someday someone will have to strike him down, but he looks a ways off, yet.¡± ¡°Happy we cleared that up,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Another murder averted. You¡¯re welcome.¡± ¡°About that,¡± I said. ¡°We still haven¡¯t talked about the fact that you almost fucking cut me in half last time.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°But I didn¡¯t. And it got your attention, yeah? Sometimes you have to yank your dog¡¯s chain to keep him from biting the neighbor. It¡¯s for his own good.¡± I rolled my eyes at her. It wasn¡¯t worth the argument, and she had prevented me from committing multiple crimes, so I let it slide. ¡°And what is it with you two?¡± Naomi asked. ¡°Miles is a fucking psychopath, probably because he was raised by some woman in the clouds with no respect for human life. But what¡¯s your guys¡¯ excuse, huh?¡± ¡°I meant only to fight in order to protect the innocent,¡± Cadoc answered. ¡°And because my honor demanded it.¡± ¡°If your honor is encouraging murder I think maybe you should get rid of it,¡± Naomi said. ¡°And what about Miles? Do you think he¡¯s crazy?¡± ¡°I¡¯m right here,¡± I said. She ignored me. ¡°He is the sanest man I have ever met, truly.¡± Naomi balked - I almost did, too. ¡°And you,¡± Naomi said, turning to Amaia. ¡°Come on, Amaia. How do you keep letting them draw you into this stuff?¡± Amaia only shrugged. Naomi threw up her hands, shouted some wordless shout of exasperation, and stomped off. We followed. We began walking again through the streets of Coernet. To our right, away from the water, the buildings - and people - seemed to be cleaner and better dressed, many of them also noticeably plump. To our left, the waterfront was full of thin, dirty people stained with marine viscera, and now I noticed just how many of them were showing signs of turning. Most took no effort whatsoever to hide it - a woman whose skin had begun to turn dark and glossy, another who had plates of exoskeleton over her arms - visible through the scraps of her sleeves as if the chitinous hide has burst through suddenly. Antennae were the most common, but some people even had mandibles or large bug-like eyes.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! None I saw had more than one feature which had changed, so nearly all of them looked simply like an average man or woman who had mutated in some unfortunate way - or, especially with the antennae, it looked only like a costume, until they moved. Still, many were completely normal with no signs of turning - at least, none that were immediately visible. Mutation, I thought to myself. That¡¯s an interesting idea. Are dungeons radioactive? If I come home with cancer I¡¯m going to be pissed. ¡°Why doesn¡¯t someone go destroy the dungeon core?¡± I asked. ¡°Who said there was one?¡± Naomi said. ¡°This far east, there¡¯s no reason to believe that there¡¯s a dungeon here, per se.¡± ¡°How far east are we?¡± Amaia asked, suddenly interested in a conversation she had clearly been ignoring a moment before. Cadoc chimed in. ¡°Not so far east, surely. There are leagues between Coernet and the front. Vildnet would fall long before it would reach here.¡± ¡°Vildnet did fall,¡± Naomi said. ¡°A couple of years ago.¡± ¡°What?¡± Cadoc said. ¡°No traveler outside Eraztun ever mentioned such a thing. How do you know?¡± ¡°Because that¡¯s where I used to live.¡± We were all silent for awhile as we continued down the wide avenue. I was the one who finally broke the silence. ¡°Forgive my ignorance,¡± I said. ¡°But my country doesn¡¯t deal with these sorts of problems. What is to the east? Are we in danger of turning, ourselves?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Eventually. But I can fix that. Look up ahead.¡± She pointed. Up ahead the avenue continued right into the stone wall of Coernet¡¯s southern hill. Built into the side was some sort of storefront - but this was barely visible because of the crowd gathered around it. It was a teeming mass of humanity, but they were surprisingly behaved. I quickly saw that there was some sort of line which coiled its was away from the shop, and everyone waited their turn - even though I could hardly perceive any movement in the line itself. Many of those in line were showing signs of turning, but many looked normal as well. Perhaps half and half. ¡°Is that the shop?¡± I asked, content to put aside my other questions for the moment. Once Amaia was cured, we could rest easy for a change, and I could collect myself. It wasn¡¯t far from my mind that I needed money, and ideas constantly interrupted my thinking. Perhaps I should get into the potion business, I thought, seeing that gigantic crowd. ¡°Yes,¡± Naomi said. ¡°And it must be my parents¡¯ shop, too.¡± ¡°You can tell?¡± Cadoc asked. ¡°There are, like, signs,¡± Naomi said. ¡°I¡¯m certain it¡¯s them.¡± Suddenly she turned towards me, and begun to take the choker-necklace thing off, revealing the collar I had fitted around her neck. ¡°OK,¡± she said. ¡°Now take this off.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Why would I do that? So you can disappear into that crowd? You keep asking me to take it off like I¡¯m going to suddenly change my mind.¡± ¡°Look at me, Miles,¡± she said. ¡°Look me in the eyes. I swear to you that I will bring you to my parents, that Amaia will be healed, and that if there is, like, any sort of reward my family can offer you, that it will be yours. I swear it. But I need this collar off before I see my parents. Otherwise they will have you killed for threatening me.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m supposed to believe you?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°That is what you¡¯re supposed to do.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re OK with that, then why run in the first place? What changed?¡± ¡°I-¡° she started. ¡°I was scared. Cadoc is right. I¡¯m a coward, in a lot of ways. But Amaia is injured, and she¡¯s my friend, and I¡¯m not going to run off and leave her. Besides,¡± she grinned widely. ¡°If I did run, you¡¯d burn my house down.¡± ¡°He does enjoy burning down houses,¡± Cadoc interjected. I grinned back. ¡°It¡¯s true. And I know where you live now. Remember that.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll have a hard time ever forgetting,¡± Naomi said. I sighed. ¡°OK, I¡¯ll take it off. I¡¯m trusting you. Don¡¯t make me regret it.¡± I put my hands around her neck, and some near-demonic urge filled me with the desire to tighten my grip around her frail neck, to crush her windpipe between my fingers and melt her throat with my fire. But it was only a fleeting feeling. I grabbed hold of the dried nail. It was stuck fast to her skin. ¡°We have two options here,¡± I said. ¡°I can either melt the nails again, which will make it much easier to take off, but will definitely burn you badly, or I can rip it off, which will be like having a bad waxing tear out any little hairs you¡¯ve got there. Both are going to hurt a lot. Any preference?¡± ¡°What is a waxing?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Tear, or burn?¡± ¡°Tear.¡± I nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what I would have chosen, too. Ready?¡± She gripped her staff tightly with both hands, and nodded. I pulled. She didn¡¯t scream, which surprised me. Perhaps she didn¡¯t have any hair there at all - I always imagined medieval women to be kind of hairy, but thinking back to when I had seen Naomi naked, that wasn¡¯t really the case, for whatever reason. The collar came off easily enough, and though it did leave a big red ring around her neck after it was off, it was mostly covered by the choker thing after she put that back on. The grimace on her face told me it had definitely hurt, but she made no complaint. ¡°OK,¡± she said, breathing heavy. ¡°Now here¡¯s how were going to do this. Cadoc and Amaia, you hold your swords in front of you, like you¡¯re escorting someone in a parade or something. Try to look like body guards.¡± She turned to Amaia at this. ¡°Sorry Amaia. But do me a favor this once, yeah? ¡°Miles, you trail behind, leaving a trail of fire on either side of our path. Try to look like, I don¡¯t know, some sort of weird freaky guy carrying out some sort of ritual.¡± ¡°Why would we do any of that?¡± I asked. ¡°Because I don¡¯t want to wait in line,¡± Naomi answered. ¡°Come on. It¡¯s a simple plan. Trust me.¡± I rolled my eyes again, but more at myself than at her, this time. ¡°Alright. In for a penny, in for a pound.¡± Amaia and Cadoc both nodded, so somehow I found myself at the end of that strange procession. Naomi walked slowly, her staff in one hand, standing tall despite her being by far the shortest of the four of us. As she came close to the crowd, she raised both hands high, and the tip of her staff began to emit that bright yellow light that appeared whenever she was preparing to attack - our signal. I began trailing fires on either side of me, simply letting the wax roll off my fingers and igniting it as it hit the ground. Amaia began her announcement in her surprisingly imposing voice. ¡°Make way!¡± she yelled. ¡°Make way! The daughter Naomi of House Chima¡¯i approaches.¡± The people in line looked back at us, and for a moment, they just stood there, looks of confusion apparent on their faces. But soon the spectacle took hold, and they began to part, Naomi holding her staff high like she was parting the Red Sea. ¡°Dearest Father and Mother!¡± Naomi shouted. There was no sign of her parents being anywhere nearby, but it was part of the show. ¡°I, like, rejoice to soon see you again! I return bearing tales of, uh, glory, or something! Let us pass, fair people, let us pass, so that my joy may not be delayed, yeah?¡± Somehow that worked. Book 2 Chapter 22 - Formless Flesh-Slime The crowd made way for us, and I was aware of many eyes being turned in our direction. They were mostly looking at Naomi, of course, but a lot of glances fell on me as well. It was sort of unnerving, but I tried to remind myself that the last time I¡¯d tried to infiltrate some place, I¡¯d had to wear bits of a dead person and pretend to be a sex slave. Not to mention I had been surrounded by monsters. Acting like some strange servant leaving a trail of fire behind us was not so bad, as long as I didn¡¯t think too hard about how much I disliked the person I was following. Dislike? I wondered. I¡¯m not really even sure how I feel, at this point. She apologized, and that means a lot to me, for some reason, but part of me still hates her, and I can¡¯t ignore that feeling. Can I even trust my own feelings? My feelings tell me to hate Naomi for having slighted and betrayed me, but my feelings also told me to murder people. Naomi stopped me from killing people, but it is a fact that she betrayed me. The walk through the crowd led to the front of the shop. It had a wide counter with many clerks tending to customers. One of the clerks - an older man - seemed to recognize Naomi, and gestured for the others to bow. The bow was strange. They bent at both the waist and the neck, then held their hands up, elbows touching, wrists against their foreheads, palms upwards as if ready to receive something. Naomi strode past them, meanwhile making some small gesture to me that I should stop lighting fires now that we were entering into the shop. The interior was clearly made only for the workers, and was little more than a large storage room full of vials, bottles, and jars. In the back - and I wondered at how Naomi knew this - was what looked like an large elevator. We entered, Naomi closed the lattice-work gate, banged her staff on the metal cage, and sure enough, we rose. We were the only ones inside, so I thought I had time for a question or two. ¡°How does this thing work?¡± I asked. I immediately realized I should have asked something else, but it¡¯s what was on my mind, at that second. ¡°Look ahead,¡± Naomi said. I did. There was nothing beyond the cage but a wall of rock, the shaft having been cleared through the hills, clearly. Then, suddenly, the wall disappeared, and for a brief moment I saw a number of freakishly muscular men pulling lengths of chain. Then they were gone, the view swallowed again by rock. ¡°You have people hauling us up?¡± I asked. ¡°How did you even know that? Isn¡¯t this your first time here?¡± ¡°I know my parents.¡± She was being short with her answers, and spoke in such a way that told me she wasn¡¯t in the mood for talking. Maybe she was mentally preparing for talking to her parents. Or maybe we were being listened in on. I couldn¡¯t imagine how. It was a long trip up - and not just up, but at a slight angle, at times - so I took the opportunity to think, again. It felt like my thoughts had been in disarray for months, one way or the other. I¡¯m not special, I reminded myself. The words were comforting, like an oft-repeated mantra, full of such meaning that each repetition brought new understanding. But I am powerful. I don¡¯t have a spark. But I do have fire. Tom has a spark. Naomi, Cadoc, and Amaia, I¡¯m certain that they all have sparks. They are unpredictable, unique, and awake. I can make choices, but they are like choices in a dream, impotent. Only, it seems that if I burn hot enough in the dream, it starts to leak into the real world, and make real changes. I¡¯m not Tom. That thought hurt. Felt wrong. But it¡¯s true. Tom isn¡¯t here, and even if he was, Tom never had power. Wouldn¡¯t know what to do with it. Does that make me better than Tom?This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. No. Maybe. Another voice. Who are you, Miles? If not Tom, then who? A murderer, one voice said. A friend, said another. A psychopath, I heard in Naomi¡¯s voice. A fool, a voice from my childhood. Vividly I saw flash before me the image of Naomi on the ground beneath me, squirming as I poured hot wax over her neck. I saw Cadoc, hand on my shoulder, as I was about to strike him down. I saw the innocent men I¡¯d almost murdered, bubbling wax choking them as I held their mouths open, then the gurgling sounds cutting off as I ignited their throats. I saw the look of terror on Nolan¡¯s face - Tom¡¯s face - as I fell with him into the abyss. A monster. Maybe, I said. Maybe I am a monster. What¡¯s wrong with that? Don¡¯t let Tom answer for you, Miles. Shut him out. You can¡¯t use him anymore. If you throw his voice aside, then what is wrong with anything, really? What if, for once in your life, you can get what you want? Isn¡¯t that what¡¯s happening right now? Didn¡¯t you rage against the world until it finally gave up and gave you what you fucking deserve? What it owed you? Just then the elevator stopped, and light spilled in from behind us. Naomi had already turned the other way, and that crisscrossing metal wall of the cage opened. Another time, I thought, shaking my head. I don¡¯t need to figure it all out right now. Power is new to me. It¡¯ll take some time to work out the kinks. For now, I want to get the reward from Naomi¡¯s family. After that, I want to pay off my debts. And I¡¯d like to keep our little group together, Cadoc and Amaia, at least, and maybe even Naomi. I do want Naomi around, I think. Do I? Yes, Miles, I do. And if she doesn¡¯t want to be around, we¡¯ll burn that bridge when we cross it. One step at a time, I told myself. Planning too far ahead doesn¡¯t do me any good. Money. Make money. We stepped out from the elevator, and though none of us had spoken another word, there seemed to be an implicit understanding that we didn¡¯t need to keep up the show anymore. Whatever angle the shaft had followed had brought us not to the front of the building, as I might have expected, but somewhere on the western side, just outside of an imposing wall that ran around the pyramidal architecture. The building was massive. From a distance, peering up the hill, it was hard to get the proper sense of scale. Standing at its base, it seemed a mountain of its own, the yellow-white stonework rising in squared layers towards a domed peak. The walls on the lowest level were ribbed with buttressing semi-circled towers, whose curved tops ended in points like minarets, making it looked armed and unwelcoming. But higher up the stonework of the walls held high decorative arches like a wedding cake, and the intricacy grew as the stones were piled closer to the sun. Eventually I took a moment to look around us, and saw that the structure was placed on a plateau, though I didn¡¯t think it was natural. Instead, I thought that someone had shaved the top of the hill clean off, so that they had more room to build this admittedly very impressive building. I could only see off of it to the west, and in that direction lay more foothills, valleys with little streams and precarious cliffs butted up against each other in violent combinations. I could also see Zinthur¡¯s Mantle to our south, rising above it all. I couldn¡¯t take any more time than that, because Naomi had hurried on ahead, leaving the rest of us. Cadoc had caught up first, and the only person who took as long as I did staring at the scenery was Amaia. We exchanged a glance before running to catch up, and her eyes were glowing like a child¡¯s. Directly ahead of the elevator we had exited - which was housed in a little stone building of it¡¯s own, no larger than needed to hold the cage - was a little entrance into the pyramid. There were guards there, but Naomi passed through without issue, receiving those strange bows again, and said something that made the guards let us through as well. At this point, I was starting to become very impressed with Naomi¡¯s parents. And very, very hopeful about my chances of a reward. ¡°I thought you said you were poor?¡± I asked just before stepping inside. ¡°We were.¡± We entered into some sort of hallway, clearly used by servants, primarily. Naomi seemed to know the way through, and led us through darkened corridors I couldn¡¯t have retraced again without help. Eventually she found the door she¡¯d been looking for, and we all filed in. We must have been somewhere near the center of the structure, though that didn¡¯t seem right, because of how massive it was and how little we¡¯d walked, comparatively. But there seemed to be windows above us letting in sunlight - I only learned later that they were using mirrors which reflected the light in intricate paths. Either way, the light shined down from many points above, shining down on a still pool of water in the center of the wide room. The pool was large, crystal clear, and surrounded by desert plants like palm trees without the trunks, which grew seemingly out of the stone floor itself. The plants obscured much of the water, and seemed built specifically to create little alcoves that swimmers could hide in. ¡°Mom!¡± Naomi yelled. ¡°It¡¯s me!¡± ¡°Naomi!¡± a voice returned - a voice closer to Amaia¡¯s than Naomi¡¯s, truth be told. It was deeper than Naomi¡¯s, certainly, but it wasn¡¯t as gruff as Amaia¡¯s, only deeper in a strange, sultry way that made my hair stand on end. A woman I hadn¡¯t seen before stood up from behind a wall of fronds. The sight of her was a shock to my system in all the wrong ways, and I have to admit I let out a little yelp. First of all, she was completely naked. Apparently that habit ran in the family. But you wouldn¡¯t have been able to tell that she was naked, not really, because your mind would be too busy trying, first, to tell whether or not she was human. She was unbelievingly fat, obese beyond even Earth standards. If I had to guess, she was probably four or five feet both tall and wide, and all of the structure of her had long disappeared. It was impossible to tell where arms and legs began and ended, to say nothing of breasts or anything else which I should, perhaps, have been ashamed of staring at so intently, but instead which I shamelessly searched for among the blob, and found nothing. ¡°Mom!¡± Naomi yelled again, practically stomping her feet. ¡°I have guests.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± the woman said, glancing at us, and she squatted down behind the fronds once again. ¡°Unbelievable,¡± Naomi muttered. For awhile the woman didn¡¯t reappear, and I began to wonder if she would ever return. I kind of hoped she wouldn¡¯t. Eventually, she did, but then again, she didn¡¯t. I would never have imagined in a million years that the woman who walked out again was the same woman, and it took a lot of convincing to get me to think otherwise. This new woman was a giant, bordering on eight feet tall, or perhaps taller - once someone is that tall, my ability to guess their height is pretty inadequate. Instead of the formless flesh-slime I¡¯d been cursed with the vision of a moment before, this woman was elegant and lithe beyond imagination, a towering goddess of grace. Long white robes flowed from her shoulders like clouds, each one bordering on complete transparency but layered so many deep that it gave the appearance of a solid though shifting white. Her face was immaculate, and all I could recognize of Naomi in it was the tan, and the eyes. ¡°My child,¡± she said, and the voice sounded now like rain. ¡°You have finally returned to us.¡± Schedule Change As of today there''s a change to the schedule, chapters will now be coming out every week on Monday and Friday. This is temporary so that I can catch up a bit on chapters, I''ve been super busy with work recently. Stolen story; please report. Thank you for understanding, and I appreciate all of the comments and reviews, I read them all. I hope you''re all enjoying the story! See you on Friday. Royal Road is not allowing me to post this unless it''s 500 characters long lol. Hopefully this is long enough now. Book 2 Chapter 23 - Yasmin ¡°Mom!¡± Naomi yelled, head tilted back to look at her face. ¡°That is not better! You look ridiculous.¡± ¡°Really?¡± the giant of a woman asked. She turned to one side and looked down at herself. ¡°Your father always says this is one of his favorites.¡± Naomi rolled her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t want to have to shout up at you all day. Get shorter.¡± ¡°If you insist,¡± the woman responded. ¡°It really is good to see you again, by the way.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, whatever, nice to see you too. Like, lose a couple feet and then we can talk, y¡¯know?¡± What a family reunion, I thought. ¡°My dear guests,¡± Naomi¡¯s mother said, once again taking on that grand half-liquid voice, ¡°Please avert your gazes for a moment, if you would be so kind.¡± None of us objected - although Naomi scoffed again. We turned, and when Naomi¡¯s mom said it was fine, we turned back. She had, in fact, lost a few feet. She was shorter than I was, now, though not by more than a couple inches, still much taller than Naomi. But the extra material had not disappeared. She was not as thin, but still not fat by any means, except- well, except in certain places. I couldn¡¯t help but notice that three feet or more of mass had seemingly been compressed into her breasts and butt, which drew tight on the fabric of the once-loose robes. It was shocking, to say the least. It reminded me of a trashy TV show I¡¯d seen back on Earth, which had an episode following a woman apparently ¡°addicted¡± to boob jobs. Even that woman had begun to look freakish and in no way attractive, whatever beauty she once had lost in her ridiculous proportions. Naomi¡¯s mother went beyond even that, though it didn¡¯t have the same artificial look that plastic surgery does, looking more alien than artificial. Her butt was similarly outrageous, like one of those Brazilian butt lifts that used to be popular years ago, times ten. She looked like a sculpture, like one of those ancient venus figurines, except without looking fat. I could not, no matter how long I stared, decide whether I should be attracted to her, or fear for my life. My body was simultaneously having both reactions. She must be a body mage, I thought - in between other thoughts. And a powerful one, too, to be able to change shape that quickly and completely. Is her magic working on body fat? Skin? Or everything, bones and all? Her magic seems even more advanced than the Cho¡¯l. I wonder if I could learn anything from her. It does make me wonder about body mages in general, though. So far, other than the Cho¡¯l, the only ones I¡¯ve really seen have been impoverished, or manual laborers, or, in the case of the women, prostitutes. There was that one adventurer with the big sword we saw go into the dungeon, but he probably never made it out, and he seemed to be an exception to the rule, anyway. So why is this woman a part of a family like this? Is she a trophy wife? That brought up other thoughts - disturbing thoughts - about why a man would choose as a wife a woman who could become either the fattest creature imaginable or an eight-feet-tall giantess - which, apparently, ¡°was one of his favorites.¡± I shuddered. Naomi had been yelling at her mother again while those thoughts raced through my head - something about that form not being any better. She pleaded for her mother to look normal ¡°for once,¡± and after we turned away and then back again, her mother took on the form she¡¯d keep for at least a little while. She was somewhere around six or seven feet tall, and looked more or less like a normal - though very attractive - woman, except for the height. In fact, she looked very strange because of how normal she looked. You would expect that tall of a woman to be built differently, like how slim her towering form from before was, but instead, all of her proportions were no different from the average. Like, you know how someone who is extremely short simply has different proportions from an average height person? Or how a very tall person has different proportions, like longer legs and a thinner frame, usually? She had none of that. What came to mind was if you put a picture of a woman into a photo editor, clicked on one corner of the image, and simply dragged and stretched the image to be larger. She simply didn¡¯t look like she¡¯d gotten taller, but just zoomed in on, if that makes sense. She did still have very large assets, but they now fell within the realm of physical possibility. Probably.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. She was still flawlessly attractive. She was probably at least in her forties, considering that she had given birth to Naomi, but I could never have guessed her age. There wasn¡¯t a wrinkle on her - she looked like she¡¯d been molded from clay that very morning. ¡°Fine,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Whatever. Good enough.¡± ¡°Splendid,¡± Naomi¡¯s mother said. ¡°As I was saying, it is wonderful to see you home again. How have you been, my dear? And who are your friends? I adore that dress, by the way. Wherever did you get it?¡± I expected a retort to the word ¡°friends,¡± but got none. ¡°I¡¯ve been great, Mom, like, really great,¡± Naomi said. ¡°But, like bigger fish, y¡¯know? Where¡¯s Dad? My friend here had a run-in with a thladem.¡± Naomi pointed to Amaia, who rolled up her sleeve to show the dark blackness beneath. ¡°Oh!¡± Naomi¡¯s mother exclaimed. ¡°Well, why didn¡¯t you say so earlier? Your father is surely in his study, as always, or else in the lab. They are next door to each other in this manor, by the way. I almost forgot that you¡¯d never been here, Naomi! If we weren¡¯t in a hurry I¡¯d give you the full tour, but the short version will have to suffice. Follow me!¡± It¡¯s always weird to be standing to the side of some family interaction, the fifth wheel, but I was sure Cadoc and Amaia didn¡¯t feel any less left out. Whatever the case, we followed - which was difficult, at first, as we had to nearly run to keep up with the woman¡¯s long strides. Eventually she noticed and slowed down. From the pool room she led us down a maze of halls, many of which opened without doors into wides spaces that passed to our sides. Naomi¡¯s mother introduced a few of them - the library, for example, looking perhaps even more impressive than Berenguer¡¯s - as well as a ¡°game room,¡± the conservatory, the western ballroom, her third favorite dining hall, and so on, all of which I caught only fleeting glimpses of. Eventually, though, she turned her attention to us. ¡°How did you meet these friends of yours, Naomi my dear? The men are downright dashing.¡± Naomi laughed, but Cadoc answered seriously. ¡°Thank you, my lady. We met deep in a dungeon beneath Eraztun, and the three of us saved your daughter¡¯s life.¡± ¡°Multiple times, in fact,¡± I added, angling for a big reward. Whether Naomi had been serious about thinking they were poor or not, they were obviously loaded. ¡°Oh dear!¡± Naomi¡¯s mother exclaimed. ¡°Naomi, I told you that you never should have left us. What dangers there are out in the wild - even in Eraztun! You are lucky you ran into such kind adventurers. Is it true that they saved your life?¡± I turned my gaze on Naomi, and as if she could feel it, she looked back. I willed her with my eyes to say yes. I tried to look threatening. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s basically true. Though I also sav-¡° Naomi¡¯s mother had stopped and turned back to face us. ¡°Then my husband and I owe you all more than we could ever repay. We will talk to Gad and see what we can do for you, but in the meantime I absolutely must know your names.¡± She looked first to Amaia. ¡°You first, my dear¡­ you are a lady, yes?¡± Amaia blushed, but gave her name, bowing. ¡°I mean no insult, my dear,¡± Naomi¡¯s mother said. ¡°You look very fierce, in all of that. I am sure that once we get you into a nice dress you will look very beautiful. Thank you, Amaia.¡± Then she turned to Cadoc. He introduced himself, even giving a bow as well. He surprised me by not insulting Naomi, though he did brag, as expected. ¡°We have fought monsters of many kinds,¡± he said. ¡°Truly, we have even slain dragons - I more than any. Our adventures will be sung of, one day.¡± ¡°Ah, how splendid!¡± Naomi¡¯s mother said. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to hear the songs, when they come. Thank you, Cadoc. And you?¡± ¡°My name is Miles,¡± I said. My thoughts were completely on getting the biggest possible reward. ¡°I have saved your daughter¡¯s life numerous times - twice from the ravenous Kalamuzi, once even from a dungeon core, not to mention that without us she would have been lost forever inside that underground maze.¡± Naomi clearly wanted to interrupt, but one look from me shut her up. I decided to thank her later, for keeping quiet. ¡°I thank you most of all, Miles,¡± the woman said. ¡°And where do you hail from? You have a different air about you.¡± Cadoc answered. ¡°He hails from the heavens, my lady. His mother is the goddess Rena, not well known in these lands but a goddess nonetheless, in whose name he carries out his mission.¡± The woman¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Naomi, is this true? You travel with a demigod.¡± Naomi brushed it aside. ¡°Yeah, I mean, sure, like, he doesn¡¯t really act like he¡¯s from the heavens, but yeah, apparently.¡± Naomi¡¯s mother took hold of my hands - and her hands enveloped mine. ¡°I knew you had something different about you, Miles. Besides that, you are exceedingly handsome, and divine blood explains that perfectly. You must stay here for a time with us. You must. All of you, of course, are welcome, but Miles, I implore you, let us show you our hospitality.¡± ¡°Mom,¡± Naomi said, and I thought I heard notes of real anger in her voice. Probably directed at me. She knew, I was certain, that I was trying to squeeze as much gratitude out of her mother as I could. ¡°Leave him alone. They won¡¯t be able to stay. They¡¯re adventurers. They adventure. It¡¯s what they do.¡± While she had a point there, it was impossible to say no to a woman both so beautiful and so imposing. ¡°We would gladly stay, for a little while, at least. After we talk to your husband, that is. Gad, you said his name was?¡± ¡°Oh, how rude of me! I never introduced myself. Yes, Gad is my husband, you will meet him shortly. I am Yasmin of the house Chima¡¯i. It is an absolute pleasure to meet you. All of you.¡± ¡°Mom!¡± Naomi yelled. ¡°Let¡¯s get a move on!¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Yasmin said. She was still holding my hands. ¡°Of course.¡± She gave me one last look - a look that nearly bowled me over, and I feared irrationally for a moment she would crush my hands in her palms and then kidnap me - and then she released me and turned, again leading us down the twisting halls. I congratulated myself, internally, for not pissing myself, and again for not laughing even once as people discussed how I was a ¡°demigod¡± or ¡°exceedingly handsome,¡± both of which were lies. But I would accept the lies from Yasmin. She wanted to flatter me, and I saw that as a good sign. Big reward coming, I thought. Massive reward. So play nice. Finally we came to a little wooden door. It felt as if we had walked for miles. Yasmin threw the door open without knocking. She had to duck to make it inside. ¡°Gad, my dear husband! Naomi has returned, and with charming friends who have saved her life!¡± The room inside the door was lined with bookshelves, some containing books as expected, but most containing strange equipment that I could only assume was used for alchemy. There was a wide wooden desk, papers scattered everywhere - including the floor - and a window to the left, which, even from that angle, I could see overlooked the river. The man who had to be Gad was standing there, a strangely thin pipe in his mouth emitting smoke, his bespectacled eyes peering down at the waters and lands below. Book 2 Chapter 24 - Gad He didn¡¯t react immediately, curling tendrils of smoke rising from his pipe, and for a moment I thought he hadn¡¯t heard his wife - deaf, maybe. But then he turned and, smiling with half of his mouth, said only ¡°Naomi.¡± ¡°Dad,¡± she said back. The room wasn¡¯t very big with all six of us inside, but Gad wasn¡¯t very big, either. He was short for a man - much shorter than his wife in her current state - wore strange glasses, and was dressed in some sort of tunic, highly decorated, beneath which was a series of robes that came nearly to his feet, which were bare. The robes were loose, yet the tunic was tight and hugged his midsection - which wasn¡¯t exactly muscular - and despite being inside he wore a gray coat over the top of it all. His face was a similar mix, pale skin drawn taut in around his cheekbones, tighter still the skin of his wide forehead, exposed by a high hairline, and yet loose around his jaw and where the skin drooped from his ears. His nose was the most pristine of his features - if he had been on Earth, I would have guessed he¡¯d gotten work done on it. His nose was the sun of his face, and the further you went from it, the more exposed the skin was to the cold embrace of sagging age. If I saw only his nose and seeking eyes, I¡¯d have guessed he was twenty. If I saw only his ears and neck, I¡¯d have guessed seventy. Yasmin scoffed. ¡°Gad!¡± she said, with one of those tones which had carved grooves into the throat, like I could recall of my mom using when my dad was still around. ¡°What kind of welcome is that?! This is your daughter. At least say that you are happy to see her home safe.¡± ¡°I am happy to see you home safe,¡± he said exactly, the half-smile widening slightly. ¡°Like, thanks,¡± Naomi responded. ¡°You are hopeless,¡± Yasmin said. ¡°Hopeless. Don¡¯t you want to know what happened? Aren¡¯t you wondering who these guests are?¡± Gad stared at his wife for a time. I had the distinct feeling that he was holding himself back from simply saying ¡°no.¡± Finally something in his face softened. ¡°Of course,¡± he said. ¡°Yes. Tell me, Naomi, who are your friends?¡± I butted in. ¡°Nice to meet you, sir.¡± The sir sounded weird but I was kissing ass, what can you do? ¡°I am Miles. We are adventurers who traveled with your daughter recently. We have saved her life many times, and came her to ensure she made it home safe.¡± Gad turned his gaze to me as I spoke, and his eyes seemed to bore holes into my own. He was looking for something there. ¡°You want a reward,¡± he said. It wasn¡¯t a question. ¡°Gad!¡± Yasmin exclaimed again. ¡°Where are your manners? These are our guests, and they have saved our dear Naomi. You will hear them out before making such crude remarks.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± he said, and I saw a little of Naomi¡¯s likeness. ¡°But let us eat, then. I am sure our guests are starving, and this room is no place to lounge.¡± So we were led out of the room, down another series of winding halls, and into a dining room - one we had not yet seen. It was small, meant clearly for more private gatherings that the larger one I¡¯d seen earlier. The table could seat eight at most. We all took our seats, Yasmin and Gad on opposite ends, the four remaining split two each on either length. Servants were called in by Yasmin, and we were served a lunch of cold meats, fruits, and a crimson-colored drink served warm, which looked like thin blood but tasted sweet. Yasmin repeatedly apologized for not having something grander prepared, and assured us that we would have a real feast later, but we all agreed that the food was delicious, regardless. Finally Cadoc and Amaia introduced themselves as well. Cadoc began to recount our adventures, and although I appreciated the aggrandizing he was doing, he was taking too long. I interrupted and made Amaia recount our time with Naomi instead, and that proved to be a significantly shortened version. I was ready to interrupt her once she got to the betrayal and collar stuff, but she never mentioned it. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°What a story!¡± Yasmin exclaimed. I was seated just to her left, and she leaned over towards me as she spoke. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you are a fellow body-mage, Miles, and yet you destroyed a dungeon core. I can tell already you are the type not to let anything get in your way.¡± She leaned even closer, placed one hand on my shoulder, and whispered into my ear. ¡°I love that in a man.¡± Her voice made me shudder, and I looked hurriedly towards Gad. Fuck, I thought. I¡¯m probably blushing. I¡¯m sure a cultural thing, being this physical with strangers, like Europeans kissing or shit like that, but if Gad sees me blushing, he might get the wrong idea. I want a reward, not a duel. But he wasn¡¯t looking at me or his wife. He was staring at some point on the table, eyes vacant. By the time he looked up, Yasmin¡¯s hand had thankfully retreated. ¡°I see,¡± Gad said, hands interlaced before him on the table. ¡°And so you made your way here, since my Naomi had promised you a reward.¡± ¡°They¡¯re my friends, Dad,¡± Naomi said. ¡°They didn¡¯t just come for money. Like, I wasn¡¯t even sure that we had money, y¡¯know?¡± ¡°And did you tell them that?¡± he asked. Naomi shrunk in her seat. ¡°Like, eventually.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Gad repeated. He turned his eyes to me again. ¡°Miles, yes? Your friend mentioned something about you owing a large sum of money. You are here for money?¡± I was flustered, and rather than lie, said simply, ¡°yes.¡± Gad¡¯s eyes were searching mine again, but it seemed that this time, he found what he was looking for, because his usual half-smile broke into a full grin. ¡°I see,¡± he said. ¡°Honest. I can appreciate that. ¡°Here is the problem,¡± he said. ¡°You have saved my daughter, from the sounds of it. You saved her from those Kalamuzi scum, from worm-drakes, as you called them, even simply from starvation and thirst. You accomplished this through great violence, ingenuity, and drive. Do I have that right so far?¡± I would add hatred, I thought, and take out ingenuity, but I only nodded. ¡°Then I do owe you a debt,¡± he said. ¡°And I always pay my debts, you understand. I have much I could offer you. Esoteric knowledge, remarkable artifacts, potions with powers you¡¯ve never witnessed. Delicacies, fine wines, even a room here in our manor I could offer you for as long as you wished it. For you and your companions. If you are a man of baser needs, that could be arranged as well. ¡°But you are indebted to another just as I am indebted to you, so none of this likely interests you. You want money, am I right?¡± I nodded again. As good as all of those things sounded, I had debts to pay. My life would be ruined otherwise, and who knew how much of any other sort of reward I could use on Earth. ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°That, there, is the problem.¡± Gad said. ¡°I can offer you many things, but I cannot offer you money. But you are interested only in money. We are at an impasse. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to be rude,¡± I said. ¡°But why can¡¯t you offer me money? I mean¡­¡± ¡°I am rich,¡± Gad said. ¡°That is what you are saying, right? I am rich, so why can I not give you money? ¡°Naomi may have filled you in on the details, Miles, but more likely she has not. Our family was very successful before, in Vildnet. If things were now as they were then, I would have showered you with gold and riches for saving my daughter. But those scum attacked us,¡± he yelled, and at this he slammed his fist on the table. It was the most emotion I¡¯d seen from him. The dishes near him jumped, even knocking over a glass which broke on the floor. He hardly seemed to notice, and a servant hurried over to collect the fragments. ¡°We were driven out of Vildnet,¡± he said. ¡°All of us were. Those savages, those, those damned monsters drove us out of our home. Most in the town were killed. In fact, we were likely the only survivors, as I have heard of no others, and that only because we have made a habit of being prepared for the worst. You must do so, living close to the Edge. ¡°We have started over here in Coernet, and we have used every last bit of coin we had to build back to what we have today. It is meager compared to what we had, but we have regained much. ¡°So to answer your question, Miles, I cannot give you money because I do not have money. All of my gold has been invested. This manor, the shop, the inventory for the shop, the wages for the workers - all of my money is there. It does not sit in some coffer somewhere so that I may pay ransoms or be stolen from, or even, as now, that I might pay what I owe. ¡°But I like you, Miles, and I am impressed by you and your party. And as I said, I always pay my debts. So, if you need money so badly, I have come up with an offer that may suit us both. ¡°Will you work for me?¡± I snorted, out of surprise more that anything. ¡°I¡¯m not really looking for a job,¡± I said. Then, thinking on it a little more, I added, ¡°what does it pay?¡± Gad smiled again. ¡°We paddle in the same boat, Miles. I will have my clerk write you the terms. But it will pay well. Fifteen gold a month, if all goes exceptionally well. At least seven, even if it doesn¡¯t.¡± I tried to remember how much money that was. A halfgold got me $250, right? And if a fullgold is $500, fifteen gold was eight grand. Eight times twelve is ninety-sex. Ninety-six thousand a year. That¡¯s more than I make working for Dimen-X. But it would still take me over a decade to repay it all. Too slow. ¡°That isn¡¯t enough,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Gad laughed. ¡°Perfect,¡± he said. ¡°I knew you were the right man for the job. That is exactly the response I was hoping for. If you had accepted it, I would have lost all respect for you. I can pay you more, Miles, if you can help me. Twenty gold, twenty-five, even thirty gold a month.¡± Whenever he said gold, I just replaced the word in my head with thousand. Thirty thousand a month. What is my monthly payment at? Twenty-five? ¡°I am truly sorry,¡± I said. ¡°But that still is not enough for me to stick around here for long. The amount I owe is much larger than that. I¡¯d be better off finding another dungeon and selling what I find. Otherwise I¡¯d be working for you for years and years.¡± ¡°Who said anything about staying here?¡± Gad said. ¡°You do these things for me, and you can come and go as you please. I need you to help me set up certain systems. Once those systems are in place, you just come back here whenever you feel like collecting your cut. You understand?¡± Passive income, I thought to myself. That¡¯s what people called it back on Earth. Passive income. Make money while you sleep. Of course, on Earth they were always scams. But if I could really make thirty thousand a month doing nothing, at least I could fucking relax for once. I wouldn¡¯t have to be scrambling, getting through entire fucking dungeons every time I need to pay the month. Maybe Dimen-X would even let me come home, and I could just return once a month to collect my money. Or wait, no, that¡¯s dangerous. Maybe I could get Cadoc or Amaia to send it over every month. I don¡¯t know, we¡¯d think of something. Maybe I could even go find Tom. I smiled. ¡°Tell me more.¡± Book 2 Chapter 25 - A Partnership Gad opened his mouth to talk, but I interrupted him almost immediately. ¡°Wait a minute,¡± I said. ¡°First things first. Before we even talk about me helping you, Amaia needs the thladem cure. You have that, right?¡± I was slightly ashamed of having forgotten, even if only temporarily. I had gotten caught up in the moment, caught up with the hope of finally making some progress. Amaia rolled up her sleeve again to show Gad the ink-blotch stain. Gad smiled. ¡°Of course. Ikhamon!¡± he yelled, and immediately a servant was at his side. The man looked to be of the local stock, unlike his masters, both of which must have been born elsewhere - though not the same place, obviously. ¡°Bring me potion number eleven,¡± he said. ¡°No, twelve. Potion twelve. And take this key, and unlock the second drawer down on the left side of my desk, and bring me four of what you find there.¡± He handed off the key, and the servant walked briskly away. ¡°Like, finally found some trustworthy help, Dad?¡± Naomi asked once Ikhamon was out of earshot. Gad sighed. ¡°Trustworthy enough. He knows better than to steal, at least, and he knows I count my inventory. But he isn¡¯t¡­ well, never mind that. He does fine work, so far. ¡°By the way, have you reached the Second Ring yet?¡± Naomi shrunk in her seat. ¡°No. But I have a good lead, I think. Cadoc got a launching-type magic from this big bug thing on the way here. That might be perfect.¡± ¡°Well there¡¯s no need to rush, honey,¡± Yasmin offered. ¡°It took me a long time, too. It pays off to be picky. Otherwise, I¡¯d be stuck hauling sacks of grain like most body-mages. I¡¯m sure Miles here didn¡¯t become an adventurer by killing the first monster to cross his path.¡± I said nothing. ¡°Well I¡¯m not exactly trying to emulate Miles¡­¡± Naomi muttered. ¡°A bug thing, you say?¡± Gad asked. ¡°I think I know the type. Yes, I believe you may be right. We¡¯ll have to see if we can arrange something.¡± The servant had already returned, presenting a little silver tray, on which sat a vial filled with purplish liquid, and four simple necklaces. ¡°Ah,¡± Naomi said when she saw the necklaces. ¡°Then it¡¯s true, yeah? We¡¯re living on the Edge again?¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid so,¡± Gad said. ¡°The Edge is the only place to get the materials we need. This time, however, the Edge did us the courtesy of following at our heels. Here, all of you. Put these on.¡± Ikhamon took the tray of each of us, and we each took one necklace. They were simple metal chains, hardly thicker than a fingernail, on which hung a translucent crystal of some sort which looked almost like glass. There were flakes of green in it, but otherwise it looked like a fogged window, or the door of one of those fancy shower units, after it had been steamed up. ¡°What is it?¡± I asked. I seemed to be the only skeptical one there - Cadac, Amaia and Naomi had all put their necklaces on immediately, no questions asked. ¡°Don¡¯t they have these in the heavens?¡± Yasmin asked at my side. ¡°Ah, I suppose they must not need them. You simply must tell me more of your birthplace, sometime.¡± ¡°He is from the heavens?¡± Gad asked. ¡°His mother is the Goddess Rena,¡± Cadoc answered. Gad nodded. ¡°I see.¡± For awhile he said nothing more. Naomi finally broke the silence. ¡°They¡¯re for protection,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Being this close to the Edge is kind of like being next to a dungeon. You know how that works, yeah? Slowly turn into a monster. These necklaces stop that.¡± The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Wait,¡± I said. ¡°So the townspeople really are turning into monsters? I saw people with antennae and shit! Aren¡¯t we going to be overrun?¡± Gad laughed. ¡°No, Miles, not to worry. There aren¡¯t enough crystals like these to go around, but I¡¯ve developed a potion to keep the turning at bay. As long as they keep taking it, it isn¡¯t a problem. The people you saw are mostly those who did not catch it early enough - the potion only stops things getting worse, you see. It does not reverse the condition.¡± I pointed at the vial Amaia now held. ¡°And that?¡± ¡°A thladem wound is easier,¡± Gad answered. ¡°That will reverse it.¡± Amaia uncorked the vial, but I raised a hand to stop her. ¡°Wait. Are there any side effects?¡± ¡°Side effects?¡± Gad asked. He looked at me sideways. ¡°Are you trained in alchemy, Miles?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Most people don¡¯t even know the term,¡± he said. ¡°Let alone have the sense to ask about it. Yes, there is one side effect. But it is minor. For a couple of days, Amaia will lose her appetite, and desire very little water. But she has just eaten, and as I say, it will clear in two or three day¡¯s time. The fast will help speed the cure, and surviving even three days without food is a simple thing, as long as you aren¡¯t already wasting away.¡± Amaia looked at Gad. ¡°Nothing else?¡± He smiled. ¡°No, nothing else.¡± Amaia shrugged, and downed the vial in one gulp, like a shot. I suppose some level of trust is required here, I thought. I put the necklace over my head. It hung low, settling somewhere around my solar plexus. ¡°Tuck that into your shirt,¡± Gad said. ¡°As I said, these crystals are rare. Our city is generally safe, but no city is completely free of the criminal element.¡± I did as he said. ¡°Thank you,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°This gift is generous.¡± ¡°Generous?¡± Gad said. ¡°Not at all. Think of it not as a gift. Think of it as a bribe. I am hoping to entice you all to stay. It seemed to me you were a team, yes? Miles likely wouldn¡¯t stay long enough to help if you two left right away, am I right?¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say, but they both answered for me. ¡°Truly,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Maybe,¡± Amaia said. ¡°And the monsters,¡± I said. ¡°And the Edge. What¡¯s the situation? Are you going to have to flee here again?¡± Just then, as if summoned by my words, a trumpet sounded far in the distance. I could hardly hear it, but it was soon answered by another trumpet - or whatever sort of horn it was - much closer. ¡°Ah,¡± Gad said. ¡°I suppose we were about due for one, yes?¡± He rose from the table. ¡°If you would all join me,¡± he said. ¡°Then I think I could answer your questions best by showing you what we¡¯re dealing with.¡± - Gad took us down another winding trail of corridors - if I¡¯m going to be living here, I thought, I¡¯ll need to get a map or something. The hallways eventually led us to another small exit, this one opening up on the eastern side of the structure. Here there was a wide balcony edged in by a little marble-like railing, past which the cliff fell away precipitously. There were little chairs set up there near the drop, and from any of them you could see the whole city of Coernet spread below like a diagram of a city, and even over the tall bridge to the other side of the Blood. We all stood, and Gad, with one hand on the railing, pointed with his other to that opposite side where the bridge touched down. ¡°There,¡± he said. ¡°Do you see it?¡± I squinted. It seemed that the opposite side of the bridge was inhabited, like a small exclave of the city proper. It had it¡¯s own walls, including three massive gates on every side not facing the water, north, east, and south. The buildings within the walls, while hard to make out from such a distance, looked old. The gates were all closed, but looking at where Gad pointed, I could see distant figures like ants just outside the southern gate. Their armor glinted in the sunlight. ¡°Is that the garrison?¡± Amaia asked. ¡°Exactly right,¡± Gad responded. ¡°And do you see their enemy? There, from the southeast.¡± They were little more the spots, spots only marginally bigger than the first, the garrison. But these ones were moving quickly towards the walls - three attackers. ¡°Here,¡± Gad said, and handed me a intricate spyglass-like telescope he¡¯d produced seemingly from nowhere. ¡°Get a good look.¡± I peered through the small end, and after awhile trying to find the moving targets again, I saw them. They were just like the bug monster we had fought before, six legs each propelling them towards their prey. I looked at the garrison, and saw the same glittering armor, and could tell by the helmet that the one in front was likely Zuan. I lowered the telescope. ¡°Are they in danger?¡± I asked. ¡°Of course,¡± Gad said. ¡°But there are only three, this time. They are well trained.¡± ¡°Truly, I wish we were closer,¡± Cadoc said. ¡°Close enough to join in, even.¡± Gad laughed. ¡°There will be plenty of chances for that.¡± Someone shoved me from behind - not hard enough to launch me over the railing, but just enough to be rude, and clearly intentional. ¡°Hand me that,¡± Naomi said, pointing at the telescope. I decided against arguing just then, and did so. Gad spoke further as we all looked on. ¡°That is what we face,¡± he said. ¡°To the east, as you know, lies the corrupted land of monsters. And, as you likely did not know before coming, that corruption has spread even here. No one outside our city seems to know, or care. No reinforcements ever arrive.¡± The two groups below finally met, and, shockingly, the garrison flew up into the air, shot forward in an arc towards the bugs as if they were launched from a cannon. I could just make out the blade-heads of their weapons. ¡°If the monsters were clever enough to attack all at once,¡± Gad continued. ¡°The city would surely fall. For now, the garrison fends them off. Even still, the corruption spreads. We barely keep enough potions to protect the townspeople, and if the corruption spreads further,¡± he said, tracing his finger along the skyline, down the river, and to where Harfin must lay to the North, though I couldn¡¯t quite make it out, ¡°to Harfin perhaps¡­ then there is nothing we could do.¡± The garrison fell upon the monsters like a volley of arrows, making wide swings down upon their foes. ¡°If Harfin falls,¡± he said. ¡°Then our position in compromised. The river will no longer afford us any protection.¡± He turned from the battle to look me in the eyes. ¡°That is what I need you for, Miles. To help secure me a supply of the materials I require for my potions, to help me to expand our humble business into Harfin, and to ensure a future here, a future of safety and stability.¡± ¡°And what does that involve, exactly?¡± I asked, peeking up and around his shoulder to see how the attacks resolved. ¡°I will make you a list,¡± he said. ¡°Of what I need, and where you may find it. Besides that, I trust you, Miles. My daughter is a good judge of character, and she has brought you here to me. I will put you in charge of the Harfin branch, as long as you prove my expectations worthy. Run it as you wish, and take your portion for every sale. ¡°Once it¡¯s established, you may delegate the responsibility to those you can trust, and make money while you sleep. All while helping us fight off the encroachment of the Edge.¡± He offered me his hand. ¡°What do you say, Miles? Interested in a partnership?¡± Behind him the blades fell, and they were well aimed such that the limbs of the monsters slid cleanly off the bloated bodies. From a distance, the monsters seemed simply to fall apart. I turned back to Gad. ¡°Fuck it,¡± I said, taking his hand and shaking it. ¡°Money while I sleep is exactly what I¡¯m looking for.¡± Book 2 Chapter 26 - Ear Piece My ear hurts. It was a dull, throbbing pain which got worse when I lied down. Only my left ear. There was a feeling like my ear was blocked as well, but that wasn¡¯t much different from normal, since the communicator was always stuck inside, just out of sight. Maybe that¡¯s why I hadn¡¯t noticed it, at first, until the pain started. I was in a room the family had given me after our talks. Gad hadn¡¯t said much more of value, only that he would put together a list of what he needed and that we¡¯d be making a lot of money together. ¡°And health potions?¡± I had asked him. ¡°How easy are those to make?¡± He had looked at me credulously. ¡°Health potions? Why?¡± ¡°If I¡¯m going to be going out into the wild looking for ingredients, I¡¯m going to want a stock of them, just in case,¡± I lied. Well, not entirely a lie - the best lies have some kernel truth in them. ¡°Ah,¡± he had said. ¡°I understand. Yes, they are quite easy to produce. I could show you myself, sometime, or else I can assign you a servant who can make you what you need.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll get back to you on that,¡± I had said. ¡°But find me that servant, just in case.¡± In my room with my aching ear, I wished I really had a health potion on hand - and for personal use, like I¡¯d led Gad to believe. The suite was small, but decadent, every wall papered and every piece of furniture ornate. I realized upon entering how long it had been since I had seen cushions, or nice carpeting, or even a bathroom with a toilet more sophisticated than a hole in the ground - though I still suspected it simply dumped waste out the side of the hill, or something. The bedroom didn¡¯t have a bed, as such, but rather the entire floor was cushioned, thick cushions which felt better than any bed I¡¯d ever slept in. The walls were cushioned as well, and while that gave me the impression of being an insane man trapped in a padded room, it was undoubtedly comfortable. There was also a large mirror in the ceiling, and that creeped me out more. The main room - off which was the simple bathroom with a soaking tub - was sparsely furnished. A carved desk, a fainting couch, and a coffee table. A small fireplace as well, built into the innermost wall. One of the walls was draped, obscuring glass which could be opened to access the balcony, a small table with two chairs sitting there in case one wanted to look over the city and enjoy the sunlight. I was sitting on the couch, sitting up to avoid any further pain, hoping the servant who had shown me to my room would be back soon with that potion. A fucking ear infection, I thought to myself. Just my luck. I¡¯d always gotten ear infections as a kid. No matter what I did, my ears simply wouldn¡¯t drain correctly, so every time I went swimming there was a high likelihood I¡¯d end up in pain. I avoided swimming once I figured out that connection, as you might imagine. Must have been from jumping into that fucking river, I thought. The water has been sitting in my ear this entire time, I guess. The servant still wasn¡¯t back - what¡¯s taking him so long? - so I figured I¡¯d check in on my slave-driver of an employer and see if my plan could work. ¡°RENA,¡± I said, and braced myself to hear that often-grating voice piped into my head. No answer. ¡°RENA? Hello? I know you can hear me. Didn¡¯t you have questions for me, anyway? Here¡¯s your chance. Answer me.¡± Still nothing. The water. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Panic shot up my body like the ignition of lighter fluid. I¡¯m stuck here. I¡¯m fucked. I¡¯m completely fucked. No. Calm down. The thing is waterproof. They told you about this. Calm down, Miles. I tried to breath and steady myself. I was overreacting. Just then the servant knocked at the door. I rose, tried to put on a normal face, and answered the door. I took the potion - in a corked bottle like an Erlenmeyer flask - said thanks, and shut the door. ¡°OK,¡± I said to myself, pacing around the room. ¡°They prepared you for this. What did they say again¡­ ¡®In the event of contact with water, the device will allow the water to pass through unimpeded, and the device will not be effected unless it is submerged for a period of time much longer than you could hold your breath. However, in the unlikely event that the water becomes stuck inside the device, it will automatically shut itself off as not to damage the electronics. In this case, you will have to remove the device and let it dry. Do NOT use rice to dry the device. If rice or rice dust becomes stuck in the device, your chances of repair drop to near zero.¡¯ ¡°It¡¯s a good thing they said that about the rice,¡± I said. ¡°Because I definitely would have tried that. If they even have rice here.¡± I hope nothing fried, I thought. Or else I really am fucked. I just have to pray that the engineers at Dimen-X knew what they were doing. ¡°I wonder if Tom helped make it. He hand a hand in just about everything else going on with this project.¡± A thought hit me. ¡°Maybe Tom¡¯s communicator got wet!¡± I said. ¡°That would explain everything. He¡¯s not dead, he just got transported into a lake or something. ¡°Except, why did he never dry it out and come back online?¡± I shook my head. One problem at a time. I brought my left hand up to my ear and tried to pinch the communicator to pull it out. But it was impossible to get a grip on - obviously they had put it pretty deep inside, so as not to be discovered, or lost. Even with perpetually-long nails like mine, it was unreachable. ¡°Nice fucking job, guys. What do you expect me to do? Ask one of the locals to use some tweezers? Well, if I had tweezers in the first place, maybe I could do it myself. But I don¡¯t. So what, get someone to pry it out with some chopsticks or something, then? There goes the secrecy. You really thought this one through, huh?¡± Sometimes I wondered if Dimen-X was run by people who were actually mentally challenged. They could make billions of dollars, discover another dimension, and create advanced AI, but they couldn¡¯t make a decent plan for an unexpected swim. Then again, they had sent two of us. Maybe they had just expected Tom to pull it out for me, if this came up. ¡°Fucking Dimen-X,¡± I said, realizing suddenly that, since they couldn¡¯t hear me, I could say whatever I wanted. ¡°Fuck you, Rhett, rich sonofabitch. I hate this fucking company, and it feels so good to be able to say that out loud.¡± Still, I needed them to get home. ¡°Do I trust anyone enough?¡± I asked myself. ¡°Do I really want to reveal to Cadoc or Amaia that I¡¯m not from the heavens? I¡¯ve never outright lied to them, but I doubt they¡¯ll see it that way. But maybe they¡¯d understand. Or maybe I could just lie more, say it¡¯s some heavenly artifact stuck in my ear. Would they believe me?¡± I thought for a long time about it, ear throbbing all the while. ¡°No,¡± I finally decided. ¡°I can¡¯t trust anyone at that level. Can¡¯t take that risk.¡± Unfortunately, I only had one other idea for how to remove the device. ¡°You fuckers are lucky I got this power,¡± I muttered. ¡°Or else you¡¯d lose your fucking guinea pig.¡± I¡¯d have to get the timing just right, or else I could end up melting the communicator, liquid plastic seeping into my ear canal. Which meant I had to practice. I tried my best to muffle my screams, but I locked the door first, just in case. Someone might hear, and I didn¡¯t want to be interrupted. By the time I was confident in my abilities, every one of my fingers was terribly burnt, and the pain stung fiercely. On the plus side, I didn¡¯t notice the ear pain anymore. There were also a few cushions - all I could find in short notice - with scorch marks, and others which had melted through. I¡¯d make up some excuse for that later. And although pillows were a lot different from that thing in my ear, I figured the timing would be more or less the same no matter what it was. I was tempted beyond belief to gulp down the health potion, but I knew I needed to save it for when I was finished. And I didn¡¯t want to call for another so soon, and draw some sort of suspicion. Call me paranoid if you want, but paranoia had kept me alive thus far. ¡°Alright,¡± I said to myself. It was hard to keep a clear mind with the pain, but I had no choice. ¡°Here goes nothing.¡± I melted the nail on my left index finger. The already-burnt fingertip erupted into a new dimension of pain, but I¡¯d prepared myself. A leather belt was in my mouth, and I bit down hard on it. I¡¯d seen that in a movie before. I wasn¡¯t sure that it helped, but it kept me from screaming again. I counted down internally, bearing the pain as best as I could until the appointed time. Then, with one swift movement, I stuck the finger into my ear, holding the melted nail up against the surface of the communicator. I waited. I could feel the nail-substance cool, though the pain in no way subsided. Still I waited. If I pulled too early, I¡¯d have to do it again. But that wasn¡¯t as bad as the opposite - if I hadn¡¯t waited long enough, the device would be toast. Finally, I pulled. The device felt so deep. Pulling it out felt like removing an eyeball, the optic nerve trailing behind. The more I pulled the more came out, and it kept going and going - or at least, that¡¯s the way it felt. For a moment there was a tug, and my heart skipped a beat. But I pulled a little more, praying and cursing, and it came loose. That done, I immediately peeled the dried nail off of my finger, and almost simultaneously uncorked and chugged the potion. A tingling sensation began in my fingertips, and then a cooling sensation like menthol. The pain didn¡¯t go away immediately, but was smothered and lessened right away. A higher quality potion than whatever I¡¯d used before. I took awhile to steady myself, eyes closed. Finally, I took a look at the device, afraid I may have melted it. It was shaped like the inside of the ear, and was no wider than a pinky finger, no longer than an inch. The inside was partially hollow, and apparently the electronics were held within that outer ring. If I was in a better mood, I might have marveled at how small the thing was, when you considered all of its functions - but it didn¡¯t seem particularly small at that moment. There was a redish-brown residue on it, and that must have been the clay from the water. I grabbed a towel from the bathroom and wiped it off as best as I could. Then I took the table from the balcony, brought it just inside, and laid the device on it, door still open to the outside, so that air and sunshine could reach it, but the roof would protect it from any unexpected rain. I collapsed on the couch, exhausted. But it wasn¡¯t long before another thought hit me, and I sat bolt upright once again. ¡°This is my chance,¡± I said. ¡°They can¡¯t hear me, and they can¡¯t see what I¡¯m seeing. This is the only true privacy I¡¯ve had in months.¡± Not that a lack of privacy has stopped me from doing some very questionable things, I thought. But still. I grabbed a piece of paper from the desk - the best thing I could find, unless I wanted to use a towel, which I considered - and took it with me into the bedroom. Book 2 Chapter 27 - A Warning It was the next day when Gad got back to me with my first assignment. He didn¡¯t have that ¡°list¡± he had mentioned, only one thing he wanted me to do first. ¡°I¡¯ll get the rest of the list ready later,¡± he said. ¡°But this is the most straightforward item by far, you understand. ¡°The list will not be simple,¡± he warned me. ¡°It will require you to figure things out, things I have not had time for. It will be your shop, after all. You run things, and if it works, we both profit, and if you can¡¯t make it work, that¡¯s on you. I¡¯m repaying my debt to you with an opportunity, not a job. Well, this first task is a little like a job. Bear with it.¡± The vagueness surrounding all of it - the task, the list, the ¡°opportunity¡± - made me suspicious. It reminded me of Dimen-X, hiding information, changing the terms of contracts, taking advantage of my ignorance. It made my blood boil to think of it. Naomi may have been collared by me, for a time, but Dimen-X had its greedy hands around my neck at all times. If I ever actually pushed back against them, they could always just leave me behind. But I now knew something Dimen-X didn¡¯t, had plans they couldn¡¯t have seen or overheard, and that thought made me grin randomly throughout the day whenever it crossed my mind. Gad, too, didn¡¯t know my intentions. He thought I was looking to sell potions to the local population in Harfin. That I would run his store. He had no idea the scope of my planned operation. There would be two lists. His, and mine - though, of course, mine existed now only in my mind, since I¡¯d burned it. So I smiled and nodded and took the little note he handed me. It held directions to a river-side building in town where I was meant to meet someone. First I had to talk to my companions. They knew nothing of my plans, either, but I intended to tell them, at least a few choice bits. They couldn¡¯t know everything, of course. Their rooms weren¡¯t far from mine. I walked the corridors back from Gad towards our quarters, took a corner sharply without looking, and bumped straight into Naomi - who I had not wanted to see. She let out a little scream as we bounced off of each other and onto the floor. ¡°Like, watch where you¡¯re going, yeah?¡± she said, slowly standing, rubbing the parts of her backside she had landed on. She was still wearing that stupid golden dress. ¡°I could say the same to you.¡± She glared at me for a moment as if deciding how to respond, then sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll let that slide,¡± she said. ¡°I was looking for you.¡± I grinned in a way I hoped was infuriating. ¡°Miss me already?¡± The glare was back. Then she looked away and started to brush past me, which was more or less mission accomplished in my eyes. ¡°Never mind. I should have known better.¡± There was something in her face, though - caught in my periphery as she passed - that made me reconsider. So despite the fact that I had intended to anger her so she would leave me alone, I ended up stopping her. ¡°Wait,¡± I said, turning to follow her. ¡°Sorry. What is it?¡± She turned back. ¡°You¡¯ll take this seriously?¡± she asked. ¡°Sure. Yeah, I will.¡± She kept staring for a bit, then nodded. ¡°OK. But not here. Your room is nearby, yeah? We¡¯ll talk on the balcony.¡± Is she afraid of being listened in on? I thought. By who? Her own family? I almost laughed at her precaution, considering that a machine from another dimension was hearing her every word, but I kept that to myself. Just before she opened the door to my suite, I realized what it would look like and tried too late to stop her. She paused in the open doorway for a moment. ¡°What the fuck did you do in here?¡± she asked, her gaze passing over scorch marks and ashes and ruined pillows. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°It¡¯s complicated,¡± I said. To my surprise, she laughed. ¡°Hell, I don¡¯t care. You do you.¡± She navigated the debris towards the balcony. She stopped for a moment to eye suspiciously the balcony table, now sitting just inside the open doors, but said nothing about it. I followed her out, and she shut the glass doors behind us. The day was cool, not so chilly as it had been when we arrived. But the approaching winter was almost palpable even in its absence. The last warm hurrah of autumn signified cold winter in the same way the last wailing of the living signifies death. One is the shadow of the other. Coernet, as before, laid sprawled out beneath us. Naomi peered out at the people below as we talked. ¡°What did you want to tell me?¡± I asked, hoping this would be quick. I didn¡¯t want to be late on my first assignment. ¡°I have information,¡± she began, and then seemed to chuckle to herself. ¡°That sounds so like, dramatic.¡± ¡°Just get to the point,¡± I said, and then, when she looked up at me with anger on her face, added, ¡°respectfully.¡± ¡°You should leave.¡± I snorted. ¡°Naomi, you brought me here. And it¡¯s my balcony. If you don¡¯t want to talk anymore then you should leave.¡± ¡°No,¡± she said, shaking her head. ¡°I mean this city. Coernet. You should leave.¡± ¡°If this is part of your plan to get us to be friends again, you should probably rethink your strategy.¡± ¡°No, I mean,¡± she looked out at the curving arteries of Coernet. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be here. It isn¡¯t right for you.¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°Youre¡­ fragile.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°Maybe that isn¡¯t the right word. I don¡¯t know, like¡­¡± ¡°First a dog,¡± I muttered. ¡°Now fragile. Maybe there¡¯s a reason you don¡¯t have friends Naomi. A fragile dog.¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± she said, seemingly ignoring what I had said about friends. ¡°A fragile dog. Like one of those little dogs, y¡¯know? The ones that can¡¯t really hunt, or herd livestock, or guard anything, but they bark and snarl and bite and it works, right? Like, people leave the dog alone, because they think they¡¯ll get bitten, and they fear the little dog even more than the big one. Because the little dog thinks it¡¯s a big dog, y¡¯know? ¡°But then, some day, the little dog picks a fight with a big dog, and the big dog actually fights back. Then what?¡± ¡°The little dog lights the big dog on fire,¡± I answered. ¡°No,¡± Naomi said. ¡°The little dog dies.¡± ¡°I have never met someone as insulting as you in my life.¡± I said. ¡°And the crazy part is, I think half the time, you aren¡¯t even trying to do it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just an analogy,¡± she said. ¡°Well enough with analogies. What are you saying, Coernet is that dangerous? You¡¯ve never even been here before.¡± ¡°No, but I¡¯ve been on the Edge. I¡¯ve seen what it does to people.¡± ¡°As in, kill them?¡± ¡°Well yeah, mostly.¡± ¡°Naomi. Who do you think you¡¯re talking to? You remember that I saved you from that dungeon, right? If I can¡¯t survive here, how the hell do you expect to?¡± She hung her head slightly. ¡°That¡¯s different.¡± I sighed. ¡°Does being vague and unhelpful run in the family, or what? You and Amaia must be related as well, now that I think about it. Or maybe she¡¯s rubbing off on you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m trying to help,¡± she said, and she looked up at me and met my eyes. The look on her face really made me think she might be - I would have walked away, otherwise. ¡°Then what the hell are you talking about?¡± I asked. ¡°The townspeople survive here just fine. Your family lives here. How the hell am I in any more danger than anyone else?¡± Naomi stared at me. Her eyes were swimming like she was about to cry, but obviously that wasn¡¯t right. She was a complete mystery to me at that moment, but then again, women almost always were. I can manipulate women, I thought to myself, but I can never understand them. ¡°Just don¡¯t, like¡­¡± she faltered for a moment, clearly searching for the words. ¡°Don¡¯t lose yourself, yeah? Just because you¡¯re wearing that necklace or whatever doesn¡¯t mean the Edge can¡¯t turn you into a monster.¡± She touched her hand to her neck as she said this, fiddling with her chocker-necklace, and I think that is what finally clued me in. I laughed. I couldn¡¯t help it. Finally I understood what was going on. Something had clicked in my head, and I realized I must have been acting like a movie character without even thinking of it. I was so used to playing someone else that even when I stopped being Tom, my body mimicked out of pure habit. I manipulated her on accident. The thought was dangerously funny. ¡°Hey,¡± Naomi said, confused but quickly approaching anger - she was never far from being offended. ¡°What are you laughing at?¡± In between laughs I tried to answer, although mostly the answer was spoken to myself. ¡°You would think women would be different here,¡± I got out, ¡°But they are still as predictable as ever. Why do they always fall for the bad boys?¡± If we really were in a movie, this would be the part where Naomi turned beet-red, called me a name, and stomped off - movie language for ¡°I love you,¡± at least in the right kind of movie. Depending on the movie, I¡¯d maybe even follow after her, grab her arm and, while she was huffing and puffing, yelling ¡°let go of me!¡± or something like that, I¡¯d kiss her, the tension would drain from her body, and within moments we¡¯d be wriggling around on the nearest piece of furniture like a couple of animals. Is that what I want? I thought to myself. My mimicry was always more conscious before, more self-directed, even if it was pushed one way or the other by those foreign voices in my head. But this was more like one of those voices had worked without even consulting me. But that isn¡¯t right either - I did this, though I hadn¡¯t done so consciously. So it must be what I want, right? That proved to be a harder question that you might think. Ask me what Tom wants, or what my Mom wants, even what Dimen-X wants, and there¡¯d be no hesitation. But what I wanted? Money, for certain. Except, well, I really only wanted the money because my debtors wanted the money. I remembered the photograph I¡¯d made, the one with the house and the field. That¡¯s it. That, and punching Tom in the face. That¡¯s what I want. I smiled, feeling quite internally resolved, for a moment, only to realize that Naomi had broken script. I was standing alone on the balcony. She hadn¡¯t even made a scene. Just left. ¡°Maybe she¡¯s not into me,¡± I said to myself. ¡°But if she isn¡¯t,¡± I responded. ¡°Then what? She¡¯s actually afraid you¡¯re going to turn into a monster? ¡°Of course she is, Miles. You put a fucking death collar around her throat. You come across as a fucking maniac. ¡°Am I a maniac? ¡°No. I mean, maybe. You might be, Miles, a little bit. But the world would make anyone crazy, when it fucks them like it¡¯s fucked you. You deserve to be a little crazy. You¡¯re just getting back at the people who have wronged you. She¡¯s scared because she betrayed you, and she¡¯s not sure if she can make it up to you or not. ¡°He¡¯s right. That makes perfect sense. ¡°I know this is new to you, Miles, but just focus on taking what you want. Don¡¯t worry about other people so much! That¡¯s what got you into this mess in the first place. Just take, Miles. Take and burn and get even. That¡¯s what you want, after all. ¡°Sure, yeah.¡± I nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right. You¡¯re absolutely right. ¡°Of course I am, Miles. I¡¯m you. I know you better than anyone. Book 2 Chapter 28 - A Simple Job To my surprise, neither Cadoc nor Amaia wanted to come with me. Cadoc said the assignment sounded boring, and that he would much rather check out the garrison while I was doing that. ¡°I¡¯ll come with you if you insist, friend,¡± he said. ¡°But I don¡¯t imagine you will need my help to sort out shipping accounts.¡± I didn¡¯t know how to respond, but my face must have betrayed some emotion because I found Cadoc¡¯s hand on my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll stick with you, friend,¡± he said. ¡°We made a pact, blood or no. But that doesn¡¯t mean we need to be side by side every moment of every day. You remember our deal, yes? I help you find money, you help me find power. Well, while you sort out the money, I¡¯ll be talking to the garrison about getting more power. But if either of us needs help, we¡¯ll just let the other one know.¡± ¡°What do you expect to get from the garrison?¡± I asked. ¡°It is good to spar with others,¡± he said. ¡°If you spar with the same people all of the time, you can grow complacent. Truly, they will likely appreciate the opportunity for change even more than I, since they all possess the same magic.¡± ¡°Really?¡± I asked. ¡°How do you know that?¡± ¡°The coward told me. She is a liar, I know, but I see no reason she would lie about this.¡± ¡°But how would she even know? This is her first time here, remember?¡± ¡°She said she had asked her father about it. There is some sort of cultus here, and it is quite popular among the people. The entire garrison uses their wind-magic.¡± ¡°Huh,¡± I said. ¡°Well, if that¡¯s true, they can¡¯t really teach you much, can they?¡± ¡°Perhaps, friend, or perhaps not.¡± He smiled at me. ¡°You never truly know. Maybe I can take some of their teachings and adapt them. If nothing else, I should be able to get some good spars out of it. I can hardly wait. Which, you see, is why I¡¯d like to go there immediately.¡± I sighed. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll let you know when I need you. You plan to stay in town while I work everything out though, right?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± he said. I believed him. He was loyal, if nothing else. I knocked on Amaia¡¯s door next, but Naomi was the one who answered. She peeked her head in through a small gap, only opening the door a little so that I couldn¡¯t really see inside. She was in some sort of swim-suit, and perhaps I would have been scandalized if I hadn¡¯t already seen her in various states of undress. Kind of cold for a swim, I thought, but I said nothing. ¡°Can I help you?¡± she asked. She didn¡¯t mention our previous meeting that day - earlier that morning, even - and I didn¡¯t press the issue. I could pretend it hadn¡¯t happened, too, if that¡¯s how we were playing this. ¡°Uh, I was looking for Amaia.¡± I tried to catch a glance past Naomi, but couldn¡¯t. ¡°One second.¡± Naomi disappeared, closing the door behind her. I waited in the hallway. A few moments later the door opened again. This time it was Amaia, wearing a bathing suit of her own. I had to stop myself from staring at the black spot on her arm - if it had begun to fade, I couldn¡¯t yet tell the difference. ¡°Yes?¡± she asked when I didn¡¯t speak immediately. ¡°I, well, I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me on this assignment. But I can see you¡¯re busy.¡± Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°What¡¯s the assignment?¡± She seemed interested, as if she wasn¡¯t particularly committed to hanging out with Naomi. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to meet someone at the docks,¡± I said. ¡°And sort out some shipment that hasn¡¯t arrived on time. Gad said it should be simple, but said I shouldn¡¯t go alone if I could help it. Said the dock-workers and sailors were always picking fights, especially when they drink, which is often.¡± Amaia frowned. ¡°So you need a bodyguard.¡± I could have guessed. ¡°When you put it like that,¡± I said. ¡°I guess I should have known better than to ask you.¡± ¡°¡¯I¡¯ve had my fill of that, Miles,¡± she said. ¡°I stick around because you guys have been¡­ novel. If it gets boring, I¡¯m out.¡± ¡°Does that mean you¡¯re sticking around for now, at least?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m going swimming with Naomi. And if you find a more interesting job for me, let me know. I¡¯d be happy to help, if it isn¡¯t boring.¡± ¡°I appreciate that, Amaia,¡± I said. ¡°I mean, I guess. It¡¯s better than nothing.¡± Naomi¡¯s head peeked into the doorway again. ¡°I heard my name,¡± she said. ¡°Yeah,¡± I responded. ¡°I heard you¡¯re going swimming again. Do you think that¡¯s wise? Didn¡¯t exactly end well the last time. I won¡¯t be around to save your lives if you¡¯re kidnapped again, you know.¡± Amaia smiled slightly, but Naomi only stuck her tongue out at me, nudged Amaia aside, and then slammed the door in my face. And that¡¯s how I ended up in the dockyard alongside a near-total stranger, the servant Ikhamon. Gad had offered his servant if I had needed him, but I hadn¡¯t actually expected to be bringing him along. I had considered going alone, but had decided against it. I didn¡¯t want to fuck things up so early just because I figured I¡¯d be fine by myself. Ikhamon wasn¡¯t particularly noteworthy in his appearance, which I supposed could be a benefit in many ways. He looked to be middle-aged and used to hard labor, though he was a little pudgy - perhaps a sign that he¡¯d left his laboring days behind him, and jumped head-first into cushier living. ¡°A pleasure to meet you, master Miles,¡± he had said, and had bowed. He was very deferential. I had muttered something or other in return, and we were off. The way to the docks led us through the southern part of the city, and I witnessed the gradient play out as we walked. First the people were wealthy, well dressed, and I struggled to find even one who had signs of turning. I also noticed, perhaps because I had already noticed Ikhamon¡¯s weight, that the people were all on the heavier side - though the women at least wore it well, reminding me slightly of Naomi¡¯s mother. The men, on the other hand, were near-uniformly beer-bellied. As we made our way east, the people became skinny, disheveled, and in various stages of turning. By the time we reached the water, it was completely the opposite of the wealthier quarters, such that I had trouble finding anyone who didn¡¯t have at least a piece of carapace or a pair of antennae. I tried to make conversation as we walked - it was nice to be able to ask questions without fearing I¡¯d be revealed as an outsider. ¡°What magic do you use, Ikhamon?¡± ¡°I am not Hjunite, if that is what you are asking, sir.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I was asking. I don¡¯t know what that is.¡± ¡°Ah, forgive me, sir. I forget you are a foreigner here. I do not use the wind magic that is popular here, is what I mean to say, sir.¡± ¡°Ok,¡± I said, ¡°But what do you use?¡± ¡°We call the study Beredo, sir, but it is easiest to describe it as freezing magic, sir.¡± ¡°Really?¡± I said. ¡°I met someone else, not long ago, who used freezing magic.¡± He nodded as if that was to be expected. ¡°He was a Beredic, then. When the job is done, I would be happy to hear of him, if it does not inconvenience you, master Miles. Perhaps he was even a relative of mine.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but think of Leah and Nolan in the dungeon. I turned away from Ikhamon so that he didn¡¯t see my blush. Nolan was dead, I knew that well enough, but perhaps the cold-magic-using Leah made it out. It seemed unlikely. ¡°Maybe,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s just get the job done first.¡± ¡°Of course, sir.¡± Ikhamon knew the way - said he¡¯d done basically this same job before. A shipment of ingredients from up-river was late. ¡°Always late, sir,¡± he said. ¡°And we are to find out why. And fix the problem, if we can. Unfortunately it is a problem that needs constant fixing.¡± By then we were walking north along the riverside, and I stared out at some of the ships going by as we walked. It was the closest I had seen them, and I began to distinguish two types. The difference between them wasn¡¯t in size or style, as there were large and small, grand and ramshackle examples of both types. The distinction was in how they were propelled. Half of the ships had, if you looked closely, oars sticking out from their sides, and were clearly being rowed forward by the efforts of the men in the galley. The other type had wide, billowing sails, and I could make out men on deck making motions that looked like some sort of eastern martial art, each motion pointed towards the sails. There was no visible indication that their movements did anything, but seeing that the ships moved even though the wind was dead, I assumed this was the wind magic I¡¯d heard about. Makes sense that¡¯s it¡¯s popular, then, I thought. In a shipping town like this, being able to blow ships around is a valuable skill. Finally we made it to the building we were looking for. It was a warehouse of some sort, old and decrepit, like it was liable to collapse in on us while we were inside. ¡°Keep your wits about you, master Miles,¡± Ikhamon warned me. ¡°They don¡¯t always react suitably.¡± I flexed my fingers, letting a drop or two of wax fall off of them - as if testing to make sure that the magic still worked. This job didn¡¯t call for violence, just a conversation, but Ikhamon was putting me on edge. ¡°Let¡¯s get to it, then,¡± I said. There was a wooden door off to one side of the building, and I stepped inside. Immediately there was a spear at my throat, and I froze for fear that another step would lead me to impale myself. ¡°Got you, you thieving son of a bitch,¡± a gruff voice said to my side. ¡°Thought you¡¯d steal the whole lot, huh? We played you like a damned fiddle.¡± Who the hell does he think I am? I thought to myself. I began to speak up, but another voice from behind me came booming in. ¡°He brought a friend!¡± the voice said. ¡°And he¡¯s-¡° The sentence never finished, like the words froze in his throat. A little yelp, and then nothing. I could only guess at what had happened, and didn¡¯t have the luxury to wait and see. The man with the spear was clearly confused, and had lowered the spear slightly when his friend had stopped speaking. I recovered my composure quicker that he did, and that¡¯s all it took. One flick of the wrist, and his face was on fire. The spear flew from his hands as he reflexively brought them to his face, smothering the little flames dotting his skin. I took the opportunity to quickly scan the warehouse. Crates stacked haphazardly everywhere, but it wasn¡¯t obvious that anyone else was there. Though they could be hiding. The man was yelling obscenities, and I marveled at how unprepared most people were for having their faces lit on fire. If he had just kept his cool, he probably could have stabbed me before I¡¯d have a chance to do much more. Instead, I drew my drows, and used it to quickly whack at his shin. I didn¡¯t hit it hard enough to break it, only to send him toppling over. A voice behind me again, but this time I recognized it. ¡°Don¡¯t kill him sir,¡± Ikhamon said. ¡°That¡¯s our man.¡± Book 2 Chapter 29 - Interrogation ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll be okay?¡± I asked. The man could have easily been dead. He was cold to the touch - obviously - and was lying on the floor of the warehouse like a corpse. Every time I checked I found that he was breathing, and yet I kept checking. ¡°He will be fine, sir,¡± Ikhamon answered. ¡°Will all respect, sir, I¡¯d be more worried about the other one.¡± I glanced at the other man. He was tied to a chair, hands bound behind his back by some rope we¡¯d found. His face did not look pleasant. I had only flicked my wrist at him once, so the burns were not large or numerous, but still parts of his face were an unnaturally raw shade of pink, and it was clear that, although he was trying very hard to look unphased, he was in quite a lot of pain. His eyes were red, perhaps from tears of agony, and there was strain written everywhere on his visage. ¡°You have a health potion on you?¡± I asked Ihkamon. He said that he did. ¡°You hear that?¡± I asked the man in the chair. ¡°We¡¯ve got a health potion for you. Should clear up those burns, easy. But before that, I want to know why you attacked us.¡± The man didn¡¯t answer, instead looking suspiciously between Ikhamon and I. ¡°I give you permission to talk,¡± I said. We¡¯d be quite angry with him a moment before - as you might imagine - and had made him shut up his screaming and yelling and pleading. I imagined he must have been scared to speak again. He looked between the two of us again, then finally he spoke. ¡°We didn¡¯t know it was you!¡± he shouted, and then shouted something else, and he was soon once again unintelligible. Ikhamon turned to me. ¡°Shall I stop his blubbering, sir?¡± I shook my head. ¡°No. Or, yes, but not like that. Give him the potion. It¡¯s probably the pain that is making him go crazy.¡± Ikhamon asked if I was sure, and when I said that I was, he did as I asked, uncorking the bottle that he drew from some pocket in his robes and pouring the liquid down the throat of the man - who struggled away at first, but Ikhamon held him still. The potion worked quickly, and although the visible effects of the burns didn¡¯t immediately fade, I could see the tension loosening in the man¡¯s shoulders as the pain was dulled. He quickly stopped his hysterics. ¡°Better?¡± I asked. ¡°Let¡¯s try this again. I have just done you a favor, despite the fact that you were about to stab me not too long ago. Now you will return the favor, alright? Why did you attack us? Speak slowly.¡± The man breathed deeply before replying. ¡°T-thank you, sieur,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m s-s-sorry, sssieur.¡± He pronounced the word like that, like it was the French ¡°sieur¡± rather than the English ¡°sir.¡± I don¡¯t know why the feeling of being overwhelmed hit me then, but it did. All of it was slightly more than I¡¯d bargained for, and I couldn¡¯t help but notice how much the scene would have looked like a violent interrogation to any outside observer. Still, what else was there to do but ask the questions? I took a breath and continued. ¡°Why did you attack us?¡± ¡°We did not know w-who you were, sieurs. W-we were stolen from o-o-only a few days past, and w-we have laid in w-w-wait here since, assuming the robbers would strike again.¡± ¡°Calm down,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re stuttering. Catch your breath for a second.¡± He did. The potion must have been helping. Many questions came to mind, and I can¡¯t say much thought went into which to ask first. ¡°Who do you think we are now? How do you know we aren¡¯t robbers?¡± ¡°You I do not recognize, sieur,¡± he said. ¡°But the other sieur, I know. We have dealt before. He works for the alchemists, in their manor.¡± The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°That explains why you attacked me,¡± I said, ¡°But not why your friend there attacked him, who he should have recognized.¡± The man glanced at where his friend still lay. ¡°H-he attacked from behind,¡± he answered. ¡°He must not have been able to tell from behind.¡± I looked to Ikhamon, but he made no indication whether he believed the story or not. I sighed. This was supposed to be a simple job. ¡°We¡¯re here to collect the shipment,¡± I said. ¡°Is that what the robbers took?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he responded, nodding furiously. ¡°Yes exactly, sieur. Only a little remains in those two crates over there,¡± he motioned with his head. ¡°And why didn¡¯t you just tell someone that? Why give everybody the run-around?¡± The man looked to Ikhamon, then to the floor between his feet. ¡°We thought we could steal back the rest, and then it would all be fine.¡± ¡°You still would have been late,¡± I said. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°Yes sieur, late, but late is better than never, better than delivering less than half.¡± ¡°And why did you expect the robbers to return?¡± The man stared blankly at me for a long time, and I thought I must have caught him in some sort of lie. But apparently he was just confused. ¡°You are mistaken, sieur. Not return. They did not steal from here. They stole from us upriver. But we thought they would come back for the rest.¡± ¡°Upriver?¡± I asked. ¡°Like, in a ship? Are we talking about pirates?¡± ¡°Yes, just like that, sieur.¡± ¡°And why didn¡¯t they take everything, then? Why are you still alive?¡± ¡°We fought them off,¡± he said. ¡°But some of their crew had already stolen much of the cargo before we had noticed.¡± ¡°And why would they come here to steal more?¡± He stared again. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t they?¡± I turned to Ikhamon. ¡°Well, that¡¯s that, I guess. What now? Take what we¡¯ve got here and report back to Gad?¡± ¡°We still have to deal with these two, sir.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± I looked at the two men. They looked pitiful. ¡°What did you have in mind?¡± ¡°We should kill them, of course, sir.¡± The man in the chair started, and I reacted similarly. ¡°What? Why?¡± ¡°Perhaps he is telling the truth,¡± Ikhamon said. ¡°Or perhaps not. But they have failed in their duties. One, at least, should die, sir, as a message to the rest, and because they attempted to kill us, first, of course.¡± ¡°Please!¡± the man in the chair shouted. ¡°W-we didn¡¯t know!¡± ¡°Woah woah woah,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s just calm down here. We don¡¯t need to kill anybody.¡± I turned to Ikhamon again. ¡°Is that what Gad would tell you to do?¡± ¡°The master does not worry himself with such things,¡± he said. ¡°I simply handle things, and deliver the results he wishes, sir. He needs not know every detail.¡± ¡°Murder seems like a detail he might want to know,¡± I muttered. How is it that I always end up around psychopaths? Do I attract this kind of person? Do I need to start dressing differently, or doing my hair differently? Wearing a shirt that says ¡°crazy people, leave me alone?¡± ¡°They did attack us,¡± I said. ¡°But we¡¯re both fine, right? They got the short end of the stick on that one. And even if we did want to punish them for that, shouldn¡¯t we call the police, or something?¡± ¡°The police?¡± Ikhamon asked. ¡°Sir, do you mean the garrison?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°Does the garrison enforce the laws here?¡± ¡°They do, sir,¡± Ikhamon answered. ¡°Well then yeah, the garrison. Let the garrison arrest them, or something. Don¡¯t just kill them. Why do I even need to say that?¡± ¡°No!¡± the man in the chair yelled suddenly. ¡°I swear that I¡¯m telling the truth! Don¡¯t hand me over to the garrison!¡± He started thrashing around as if trying to escape his bindings, and he seemed in danger of toppling over. ¡°Shall I inform the garrison then, sir?¡± ¡°Why is he so upset about that?¡± I asked. ¡°Being arrested by the garrison has to be better than you killing him, right?¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t seem to think so, sir.¡± I shook my head. Let me guess. The garrison is full of psychopaths, too. Knowing this dimension, that almost seems inevitable. Or maybe the prison conditions are so bad here, he¡¯d rather die. I guess I shouldn¡¯t be too surprised by that possibility, either. When I think of medieval prisons, I guess what really comes to mind is dungeons and oubliettes. I have no reason to believe this city runs its prison like a Scandinavian country back on earth, video games and all. ¡°And we can¡¯t just let them go?¡± I asked. ¡°I would not advise it, sir. He could be lying, and then another shipment will be stolen. Our mission here was to collect the shipment, not to lose two, sir. And it is only just that someone pays for the lost cargo.¡± ¡°Then we will take them with us,¡± I said. ¡°To the manor?¡± Ikhamon asked, a look of displeasure clear on his face. ¡°Sir, I am sure that the master would not appr-¡± ¡°No not to the manor,¡± I interrupted. ¡°They will take us to where the shipment was stolen, and we will find it, and bring it back. If we find it, then they can walk free, right?¡± ¡°I suppose, sir.¡± ¡°Then that¡¯s what we will do We were here to fix the problem anyway, and this should fix it,¡± I turned to the man in the chair. ¡°Do you agree?¡± He nodded without hesitation. ¡°And do you think we will be able to find the hideout of the men who robbed you?¡± After a time, he nodded again. ¡°OK,¡± I said. ¡°Then I will untie you, and you can wake up your friend and get him to agree, too. I hope it goes without saying that if you¡¯re lying, you¡¯re going to have your face melted off.¡± The man nodded again. ¡°Right. Ikhamon, do you have another potion? Maybe we should give one to the other man, too. He still hasn¡¯t woken up. Or maybe we should get him in front of a fire for a little while to warm him back up. He looks pale.¡± - We didn¡¯t actually end up untying the man. Instead, we tied up his friend as well, and left them. It was temporary. We had to bring back what remained of the shipment, after all. Couldn¡¯t just leave the crates sitting in the warehouse waiting to be stolen while we sailed upriver. I told the two men to hold tight, and that we¡¯d be back soon to start the trip. The burned one said that we could leave sooner if we untied them and let them prepare the ship, and I told him not to push his luck. Still, it was a long way back to the manor, and I didn¡¯t want to waste too much time. It would be best if we could reach the site of the robbery before dark - although I hadn¡¯t actually asked how far away it was. ¡°Is there anyone we could trust to bring this back for us?¡± I asked Ikhamon as we left, each carrying a small crate. They were surprisingly light, but it made sense once I peaked inside of one - they contained only herbs, from what I could see. ¡°Not anyone nearby, sir. Not that I¡¯m aware of.¡± I wished that Cadoc or Amaia was with us. ¡°Where does the garrison train?¡± I asked. ¡°Is it far away?¡± ¡°Very far, sir. Across the bridge.¡± ¡°And a beach?¡± I asked. ¡°Is there a nice beach anywhere nearby? Nearer than the manor, that is?¡± ¡°If we head straight south, sir, then yes, there is a beach there. It is used mostly by the family, and so there is another way up to the manor from there. Why are you looking for a beach though, sir? Aren¡¯t we returning to those men?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°Just trying to save us some time, if we¡¯re lucky. Is the way to the manor from the beach any slower than the route we took earlier.¡± ¡°About the same, sir.¡± ¡°Worth a shot, then. Let¡¯s go.¡± Book 2 Chapter 30 - Hoyom and Aster Sure enough, we found Amaia and Noami there on the river-side beach, Naomi sun-bathing while Amaia swam. They didn¡¯t notice us right away. There was a small dividing wall with a little entranceway, which was neither locked nor guarded. Despite that, we saw no one else there, and the walls on three sides gave a certain sense of privacy. ¡°Did you know they would be here, sir?¡± Ikhamon asked. ¡°Just a lucky guess,¡± I said. Then I raised a hand and yelled out to the two - and in doing so dropped the crate, unable to balance it in one hand. I scrambled to pick it back up - it was lucky it didn¡¯t break, lucky that the ground was soft. ¡°Miles!¡± Amaia yelled back, and I thought for a second I must have mistaken her for someone else. But when I looked up again, it was her, and she was waving back at me. Naomi only glanced over at me for a moment, and then turned away again. It is needless to say that her swimming outfit was outrageous, and I will not describe it any further, though the image is forever seared in my memory. Ikhamon and I shambled up the beach through the sand, which I was surprised to see there at all. I wondered what freak phenomenon had given this section of riverside sand instead of clay. While I could somewhat understand swimming since the water of the Blood was warm, I had no idea how Naomi had decided to sunbathe. Good beach weather had probably ended months ago. When I was within earshot of both of them, I told them what had happened so far, and asked whether they could take the crates up for me while Ikhamon and I sailed upriver. ¡°Like, do it yourself,¡± Naomi answered - the first words she had spoken thus far. ¡°Can¡¯t you see we¡¯re busy?¡± ¡°I can do it,¡± Amaia said. She had come up out of the water and stood dripping beside us. ¡°Although this doesn¡¯t exactly qualify as an interesting job. Sailing upriver sounds fun though. Am I allowed to change my mind and come with?¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to say yes,¡± I said. ¡°But then the whole time-saving thing is out the window. I feel bad making those guys in the warehouse wait any longer, but¡­¡± ¡°Fiiiiine,¡± Naomi said. She didn¡¯t even turn to face me when she spoke, and didn¡¯t stand up from where she was lounging. ¡°I¡¯ll take the crates. Just set them there. I¡¯m going to enjoy the sun for awhile longer, y¡¯know?¡± ¡°You sure?¡± I asked. I expected some sort of catch. ¡°I¡¯m feeling gracious,¡± she said. ¡°It must be the sunbathing or something.¡± ¡°You¡¯re really not cold out here?¡± ¡°It¡¯s about to be winter,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m enjoying the beach while I can. I missed the whole summer, and nothing is going to stop me enjoying what¡¯s left. I¡¯ll be out here everyday until it snows.¡± I shrugged and set the crate down beside her. Ihkamon followed suit. I could see on his face that he was unsure about this course of action, but Naomi was basically his boss, so what could he say? ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re actually going to deliver these?¡± ¡°Well uh, enjoy the sun, I guess.¡± ¡°I will. Like, enjoy your boat ride or whatever.¡± - The two men both used wind magic, and their little vessel carried us south against the current. Amaia stood at the bow watching the water break before us. She had changed back into her adventuring clothes before coming with us - there was a little spot beside the beach used for that purpose. With the sun high above us and the water red like dull blood, it felt like we were sailing south into some exotic hell. At times the river was so wide that I couldn¡¯t see land at all, but usually I could make out one side or the other. To our right - the starboard side, I learned - the trees swallowed up the shoreline again, and I could hardly make out anything besides foliage. To the port side the trees were sparser, as if whatever ill wind infected that land was lethal to both man and plant, and I daydreamed about trees that uprooted themselves from the ground and stalked after unlucky victims, having been turned into monsters by that eastern influence. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I could have believed that first monster Cadoc and I fought was such a creature, if I wasn¡¯t already certain it had once been a man. Had the last thing we¡¯d killed been a man once as well? If I recorded every time when I thought of Nolan¡¯s death, this account would never end, but I will mention here that he was on my mind again. I wondered if killing a man, even in self-defense, changed a person. I asked Amaia what she thought. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t know,¡± she said. ¡°Never killed anyone?¡± ¡°Killed too many to count. And never spent much time with anyone who hadn¡¯t. If there¡¯s a difference, I wouldn¡¯t be one to see it.¡± ¡°Unhelpful and unnerving,¡± I said, smiling. ¡°You¡¯ll have to tell me sometime how you got so good at giving answers like that.¡± She smiled back, though she kept her eyes ahead. ¡°I¡¯m well trained.¡± I tried to press her on that, but she refused to go into more detail. I supposed a body guard would have to keep her mouth shut, but I wondered if she meant anything more by what she said. The boat was not very big ¡ª maybe forty feet long, though I¡¯m no good at those kinds of estimates - so privacy was not to be expected. Still, I did not appreciate being listened in on. ¡°Makes no difference at all,¡± the burned man said. ¡°Kill one, kill a million. In the first place, you had to be the kind of person who could kill.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him,¡± shouted his companion. It was his shift on propelling the boat, but he shouted at us between thrusts of his palms. ¡°Anyone can kill, so what he¡¯s saying doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡± ¡°You think so?¡± I shouted back. ¡°Even some old granny?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± he shouted back. ¡°Put her back against the wall, and she¡¯ll tear your heart out of your chest. And everyone gets backed into a corner once or twice in their life.¡± ¡°You two killers then?¡± I asked. ¡°Not yet,¡± the burned man said. ¡°But it¡¯s only a matter of time.¡± After the next shift change we broke for lunch. The burned man took to the sail as the other laid out some dried meats they had stored on board. ¡°How much longer do you think?¡± I asked. The man looked to his companion first before answering. ¡°Not long now,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯re nearly at the outpost.¡± Amaia spoke with food in her mouth. ¡°And that¡¯s where you lost the stuff?¡± The man nodded. ¡°Right, just offshore from it.¡± A few minutes passed of silent eating. I think we were all watching the scenery, mostly. ¡°What¡¯s your name, anyway?¡± I asked. ¡°Hoyom,¡± he said. ¡°And your friend?¡± Hoyom laughed. ¡°Friend? That¡¯s Aster. We just work together.¡± ¡°Good work?¡± I asked. He shrugged. ¡°A job is a job.¡± Now I laughed. ¡°Not what you want to do with your life, huh? Never dreamed of being a riverboat sailor?¡± He smiled slightly. ¡°I always wanted to be a chef. Work for some royal somewhere, sneak bits of food while I was at it, live a cushy life.¡± ¡°Why not ask Gad?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯m sure he needs a good cook.¡± Hoyom only shook his head. I looked to Amaia, who shrugged, then to Ikhamon, who had spoken very little. ¡°Already has one, sir,¡± Ikhamon said. ¡°Well maybe Hoyom is better!¡± I said, and turned back to Hoyom. ¡°Hey, cook us something when we get back. Something more than dried meat. If it¡¯s good, I¡¯ll tell Gad to give you a shot. He seems to like me for some reason.¡± Hoyom chuckled. ¡°Alright, sure. You can look forward to it.¡± ¡°I will,¡± I said. ¡°Amaia will come too.¡± Amaia shrugged. ¡°Why not.¡± ¡°And you?¡± I asked, shouting to Aster, but he seemed to misunderstand. I was only asking if he was going to join us for a meal, but he answered my previous question instead. ¡°I don¡¯t dream of anything anymore,¡± he said, dropping his hands to his sides for a moment and letting the sails die, windless. Then, just as quickly, he begun his rhythmic movements again, one palm, then the other, like a tuneless dance, a wordless ritual. - ¡°Here we are!¡± The shout was Hoyom¡¯s. A few shifts had passed, and once again he was on rest. I ran up to join him on the bow, and Amaia was already there. She pointed the spot out for me. It wasn¡¯t much. A clay hut about the size of a shed, and a little wooden dock beside it jutting out into the water. The dock looked so small on that wide river. I imagined that, from space, it wouldn¡¯t be visible at all, while the river would stand out red and strange. I mused that I was probably the first person in that dimension to think about how things looked from space. It wasn¡¯t entirely clear that they even recognized outer space as a concept - when the natives talked of ¡°the heavens,¡± I got the impression they were talking about a physical place far above us, not a different plane of existence or anything of that sort. Tom might have thought of it though, I thought. And then I¡¯d be second place, again. ¡°Which way did the pirates attack from?¡± Ikhamon asked from behind us. I hadn¡¯t noticed him approach. Hoyom thought a moment before answering. ¡°That way,¡± he finally said, pointing southeast. Then he turned and shouted, ¡°Is that right, Aster? Which way were we attacked from?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± he shouted back. ¡°Exactly as you pointed.¡± ¡°So what,¡± I said. ¡°We head that direction and hope to bump into them?¡± ¡°They must have some sort of hideout nearby,¡± Hoyom said. ¡°Their vessel could not have sailed far. It was not sturdy enough, and it couldn¡¯t possibly have held much cargo.¡± Amaia pointed further up the shore. ¡°Then we should follow the beach.¡± ¡°No point,¡± Aster said, for he had stopped his work while we deliberated our next moves. ¡°There is nothing along the shore here for miles. We would know.¡± ¡°He is right,¡± Ikhamon said. ¡°As far as I know, at least, sir.¡± ¡°Further inland?¡± I asked. ¡°Couldn¡¯t be,¡± Hoyom said. ¡°They need some sort of dock, or something.¡± ¡°You seem to have something in mind,¡± I said. ¡°So just go ahead and tell us what you¡¯re thinking.¡± ¡°Well,¡± Hoyom said, rubbing his hands together. ¡°No one ever called me a smart man, but I¡¯ve been thinking. ¡°Why would these men steal those herbs in the first place? They are used to make the potion that prevents turning, right?¡± ¡°And as a drug,¡± Ikhamon said. ¡°It lulls to blissful sleep those stupid enough to ingest it.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Hoyom said. ¡°So my thought is this. Either the thieves are looking to make the potion themselves, or else they are addicts.¡± ¡°No one knows the recipe!¡± Ikhamon shouted - which was the loudest I¡¯d heard him speak. ¡°It would be foolish of anyone to try to copy the master.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Hoyom said. ¡°Fine. Then either they are foolish, or they are stupid. You said it yourself.¡± ¡°And?¡± I asked. ¡°What¡¯s your point?¡± ¡°If we can agree that they are either foolish or stupid, and we agree that there is no dock along this shore, but we also agree that they must have one somewhere, then I ask you all, where else would a stupid or foolish man set ashore?¡± It was easy enough to follow what he was implying. ¡°You think they live to the east? With the monsters?¡± ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°No one could live there. But could someone come ashore there, tie up to some forgotten dock, and then take some other means across? Swim, even, with the crate tied to a line behind him? Such a crew would have every advantage of a swift moving vessel, and yet would never be found on the western beaches.¡± ¡°Until they get killed by monsters,¡± I said. ¡°They just have to be quick,¡± Hoyom said. ¡°Like we¡¯ll be when we find them.¡± Book 2 Chapter 31 - The East We were once again at a wide section of river, and as we sailed east we hit a certain point where you couldn¡¯t see either shore, and a feeling of isolation fell over me as I looked out over that copper ocean which appeared to flow inch by inch towards the waterfall at the edge of the world. But soon the other shore was in sight. I half expected to see a crowd of monsters waiting for us, swarms of those bug creatures, or even a horde of Kalamuzi. There was nothing. The east looked barren and deserted, as if nothing had ever lived there besides the scarce trees and dying grass. ¡°You know,¡± I said aloud to Amaia beside me, ¡°I¡¯ve just thought of a flaw in this plan.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°We¡¯re going to find the pirate¡¯s dock, presumably,¡± I said. ¡°And there¡¯s going to be no one there. And our missing cargo probably won¡¯t be there either, unless they plan to return for it later once the heat has died down. But why bother? We¡¯re probably just going to find a dock, and what¡¯s that worth to us?¡± Amaia shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m just along for the ride.¡± I laughed. ¡°Enjoying yourself?¡± ¡°I¡¯m still here, aren¡¯t I?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what else you¡¯d do. Decide you hate boats halfway through and jump into the water? Swim all those miles back to Coernet?¡± She twisted her mouth as if considering it. ¡°That could be fun. Never done that before.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t get any ideas,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve seen those metal plates you started wearing on your arms. You¡¯d sink like a stone. What are those for, anyway? Can you use your magic to-¡± ¡°There it is!¡± A shout from behind. I turned first towards the voice - it was Hoyom - then towards where he was pointing. Sure enough, there was a dock there, more impressive than I had imagined. I, of course, had pictured a little wooden affair, half destroyed by time, barely more than a log to tie up to and a small wooden platform to disembark on. Instead, while the edge was indeed lined with wooden planks, these were beside great stone stairs which lead up to stone walls and a stone street above. The street seemed unnecessary as there was only one structure along it, made of the same white-grey stones which had been cut into uniform blocks. ¡°Can monsters build houses and docks?¡± I asked aloud, half-joking. But Hoyom, now beside me, took the question seriously. ¡°Of course not,¡± he said. ¡°This is only some remainder that they haven¡¯t destroyed yet.¡± Despite that, it was in such a condition that I would have believed if he had told me it was built only the day before we arrived. My hopes of success were getting higher by the second. I was imaging how impressed Gad would be when I returned with his cargo, and maybe the heads of a couple of pirates, too. That¡¯s not murder, right? That¡¯s justice. Something like that. Aster must have had similar thoughts based on what he shouted from behind me, where he still manned the sails. ¡°They must have stashed our cargo here!¡± he yelled. I raised an eyebrow at the word ¡°our,¡± but said nothing. I supposed we were working together. ¡°Makes sense,¡± Hoyom said beside me, nodding. ¡°They can return here at any time without fear of being caught. If they¡¯re drug addicts, that can return whenever they need a fix, and enjoy a interesting voyage home. If they mean to sell it to some insane alchemist, they can use this as a dead-drop spot.¡± ¡°I guess so,¡± I said. ¡°If we¡¯re really lucky there won¡¯t be anyone here and we can just snag those crates.¡± As we approached the shoreline, Amaia and I kept an eye out for signs of movement while Hoyom and Aster worked to maneuver the ship. Ikhamon should have been watching the shore as well, but he talked little and I can¡¯t say I knew what he was doing, exactly. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Soon we were alongside the dock. Hoyom leaped from the ship with a length of rope in hand and, after some further adjustments, tied it to a post that jutted out from the wood. Following instructions, I threw him a second line, which he tied up as well. We hadn¡¯t seen any signs of enemies, but that only made me more on edge. ¡°Well,¡± I said, trying to act unconcerned. ¡°Are we ready to step onto this cursed ground?¡± Hoyom, who already had, answered, shouting up at the ship. ¡°Someone should stay behind to guard the ship,¡± he said. ¡°In case the pirates show up while we¡¯re inside.¡± Amaia shook her head. Apparently she was looking forward to disembarking - I only hoped that wouldn¡¯t end with another blackened arm. I declined as well, mostly because I didn¡¯t want to look like a coward. ¡°I¡¯ll stay,¡± Aster said. ¡°I can keep things ready in case we need to retreat.¡± ¡°I will stay as well,¡± Ikhamon said. Then turning to me, ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, sir.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Sure, that¡¯s fine. Two men to fight off the monsters that swarm the ship while we¡¯re inside.¡± Aster began to speak up, saying that that wasn¡¯t necessary, but Ikhamon interrupted. ¡°It is decided then.¡± That decided, Amaia and I leapt from the ship as well, following Hoyom¡¯s lead. It was lucky that it wasn¡¯t a far drop, but I was sure we¡¯d need help getting back in when it was all said and done. Hoyom had used his wind magic to help his jump, and we didn¡¯t have that luxury. Still, we landed with nothing more than a bruise. We made our way up the dock, up those massive stone stairs, and I kept my head on a swivel. I thought I would feel some difference, that once I had stepped foot on the dock, or even more so on the stone steps which were built on shore, that I would feel the cursed nature of the place. While I did feel uneasy, that was simply nerves. As far as a feeling went, we could have landed on the other shore by mistake and it would have felt no different. Perhaps it was the necklace hanging around my neck. ¡°Hey Hoyom,¡± I said as we climbed the stairs. ¡°Do you know, is the turning quicker now that we¡¯re on this side of the river? Or stronger, maybe? Or would the potion still work?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said. ¡°Should be stronger. Faster. You would think so, anyway. If you live closer to a dungeon, it would be faster, so it probably works that way.¡± ¡°Better be quick then,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t want you turning into a bug.¡± ¡°Worry about yourself,¡± he said. ¡°But yes. Let¡¯s be quick.¡± I realized, though it should have been obvious, that he didn¡¯t know about the necklaces Amaia and I wore, and I had nearly given that fact away. We soon reached the top of the stairs and stood at the foot of the stone building. It was large and well built, but clearly not any sort of luxury dwelling, despite its impressive construction. It could have been a warehouse, or a large shop, or even a riverside inn. Hoyom strode ahead and opened the door without hesitation. I couldn¡¯t believe he was so cavalier about it, but hurried to follow behind him in case he was about to be attacked. Amaia took up the rear. There seemed to be no one inside. The sun was already starting towards the horizon, but the rays it shot through the building¡¯s windows revealed a large space which was mostly empty. What it did contain made it seem as if someone was squatting there. A little table with plates and scraps of food, bedrolls laid out beside it. I found it hard to imagine someone sleeping on this side of the river for a number of reasons, and I wondered just how turned these pirates were. Perhaps they used their ill-gotten gains to buy enough potions to keep it at bay. Or maybe they really had figured out the recipe.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see any crates,¡± Amaia said. ¡°There,¡± Hoyom said, pointing. I had to squint, but there was a trap door built into the floor some distance off. He must have had good eyes, because I hadn¡¯t seen it at all. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s where I¡¯d stash my stolen goods,¡± I said. Lifting the door and peering into the darkness, I could see nothing, only a little ladder descending into pitch darkness. I let drops of nail drip into the hole, and thought perhaps I could make out some sort of storeroom. ¡°After you,¡± I said, motioning Hoyom over. There wasn¡¯t any particular reason to make him go first, but I suppose I had assumed he would want to, considering how quickly he had taken point to enter this building. But he only looked at the ground beneath his feet, and answered sheepishly. ¡°Don¡¯t tell Aster this,¡± he said. ¡°Because I¡¯d never hear the end of it, but, I, well, I can¡¯t handle underground spaces like that.¡± ¡°What? Why?¡± ¡°I just don¡¯t like ¡®em. Makes me feel like I¡¯m in a grave, like the walls are going to collapse and I¡¯ll be buried.¡± ¡°So what, claustrophobic?¡± I asked. And then, realizing that he might not know the word, added, ¡°Afraid of tight spaces?¡± ¡°I mean, I handle the ships galley just fine,¡± he said. ¡°But underground, yeah, I guess you could say I¡¯m afraid of it.¡± I laughed. ¡°Alright, whatever. Amaia and I will head down, you stay here and keep watch. Probably best we have someone on watch duty anyway, so we don¡¯t come back up to some sort of ambush.¡± Hoyom nodded. He was clearly embarrassed about the conversation, and I felt a little bad for him. It never crossed my mind that he might have been lying to me. You could see it written on his face that he really was scared of going down into that hole. ¡°OK Amaia,¡± I said. ¡°Ready?¡± I don¡¯t know what I expected. She shrugged, and we were off. I took the lead, dropping an occasional stream of nails to check the distance to the bottom. Despite that it felt like we were on the ladder for an impossible amount of time before finally I reached my foot down to the next rung of the ladder and found solid ground instead. I couldn¡¯t even see my hands in front of my face. ¡°Find some wood or something,¡± I said to Amaia, and my voice seemed to be swallowed up nearly as quickly as it had left my lips. Somehow, using the light of the occasional burning nail, we were able to find the smashed remains of some old barrel. I took the longest strip that remained intact, covered its end with nail, and fashioned myself a makeshift torch - curved, but serviceable. I had expected a small storeroom, but perhaps I should have guessed at the truth based off of the way noise seemed to be pulled away from us. The torch revealed a long tunnel, only slightly taller than I was, and wide enough that three could walk side-by-side. I couldn¡¯t tell how far it went on, be we seemed to be at some terminal point, a smallish room used for exiting and entering the tunnel, surrounded by all sorts of trash it was hard to make out in the darkness. I wondered what the tunnel was for. If it had smelled I would have thought it an ancient sewer, but unless time had erased the smell, that was impossible. I looked around for our crates. I did find some, but they were clearly too old to be what we were looking for. After some searching we found many old containers like this, but nothing that looked like our stolen goods. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s here,¡± Amaia said. I sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t think so either. Nothing to do but head back and deliver the bad news, I guess.¡± I turned my head up to shout at Hoyom at the top of the ladder, but my words died in my throat as I saw that the little trap door, that little square of light which shined above us like a star, had gone out. It could have been an accident, but I knew, with a sinking feeling in my stomach, that it wasn¡¯t. Book 2 Chapter 32 - Trapped ¡°Why do I ever trust anyone,¡± I muttered as I climbed back up the ladder. I knew that nothing awaited me at the top but disappointment, but I was going to try anyway. ¡°Story of my life.¡± I told Amaia to wait at the bottom, which she did without a word. Either she was even more convinced that we were fucked than I was, or she really just didn¡¯t care. Both, even. She stood there like a stone sentry. The depth of the tunnel was more visceral on the return trip. Before I could at least glance up at that square of light for some respite from the oppressive darkness. Now the only point of brightness to rest my eyes on was below me, the flickering torch which I¡¯d handed to Amaia - but looking at that made me feel worse, not better. What made me feel worse still were the noises I¡¯d begun to hear echoing from the tunnel mouth. The noises we had made did not seem to reverberate, and yet from the other direction I could hear amplified unidentifiable sounds, as if the acoustics of the tunnel were designed in such a way as to only echo in one direction. The sounds, whatever they were, quickened the pace of my climb. Perhaps it was only the sound of some rodent scurrying around. But perhaps not. It might seem cowardly that someone who threatens to melt a dude¡¯s face off or burn a neck clean through is afraid of sounds in the dark, but a person¡¯s imagination is always the worst enemy of all, and the noises hadn¡¯t bothered me a bit when I still believed I could leave at any time. Now that I felt trapped, my mind made monsters of the noises, great monsters beyond any I¡¯d seen before. Then, climbing, I started to delude myself into thinking it would be OK. Maybe the sun has set, I thought. It wouldn¡¯t take much to make the interior of that building dark. Even if Hoyom lit a torch of his own, I might not see it unless he held it right above the hole. I was proven violently wrong. It was impossible to judge how near or far I was from the top, so I was taken completely by surprise when I banged my head against the trapdoor. I saw stars, which seemed to mock me and my desire to see the true stars above. The door didn¡¯t budge. Locked. I, however, did budge. I had been scurrying frantically enough that the collision nearly sent me toppling off of the ladder. I surely would have died from the fall. If I had brought the torch with me, or for any other reason had held the rungs with only one hand, that would have been the end of me. Unfortunately for those who had wronged me, I lived. Worse still, I had an idea. But the near-fall had spooked me. I wasn¡¯t sure that it would help, but I took the only precaution I could think of. Planting my feet as comfortably as I could on one rung of the ladder and holding tightly with one hand, I used the other to pour liquid nail onto my boots. I was afraid my boots might melt, or that my feet would cook inside like boiled sausages, so I poured only small amounts at a time, letting those cool before adding more. Still my feet were sweating by the time I was done. Some drops slid off and were swallowed by the darkness, but Amaia was far enough down that any which happened to land on her head would be completely cooled by the time they reached her. Though they might make her jump, which in hindsight I wished I had seen. I wasn¡¯t sure how good the hold was. It was basically just glue, and I wasn¡¯t sure if you could hold a full-grown man up with glue alone. I thought I might have seen someone lift a car with glue on the internet before, but I was smart enough to know that it may have been fake, or at least higher quality glue than whatever I was producing. The word producing made me shudder. I felt more monstrous suddenly, like a large spider producing webs. I hoped the webs would hold. I resolved to keep my footing and hopefully not need to test it. I turned my attention upward. My memory had been right. The trapdoor was wooden. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I began flicking liquid nails upwards, igniting them just before they hit the door. It took a few tries and with many drops falling back down and giving me mild burns on my face, but finally the trap door caught. As the wood cackled so did I. They won¡¯t see us coming, the fuckers. Unfortunately I was correct for the wrong reason. The trapdoor burned away while I shielded my eyes as best I could, flaming bits of wood falling down towards a hopefully-ready-to-dodge Amaia. But once the trapdoor was no more, I did not see the square of light I¡¯d hoped for, but a tiny sliver of it. The rest, I quickly saw, was covered by a slab of stone. ¡°Hey!¡± I yelled. ¡°You still up there, Hoyom? Get this fucking stone off of the hole!¡± I hadn¡¯t actually expected an answer, so I was quite surprised when I received one. ¡°You¡¯re resourceful, aren¡¯t you?¡± Hoyom said. I saw movement above, and soon one eye was peering through the crack as he squatted and leaned down beside the trapdoor. I could see by the way the light danced around him that he was holding a torch of his own. ¡°I barely finished stacking the rocks.¡± ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you?¡± I yelled at him. ¡°Let us out! What the fuck did I ever do to you?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± Hoyom said, and he might have been discussing some distant tragedy he¡¯d seen on the news, for all the emotion in his voice. ¡°And I am sorry it came to this. No one else was meant to get involved, certainly not you or the girl - we didn¡¯t even know you existed before today. Supposed to be simple. You can blame Eitan for this. Bastard.¡± ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I said. ¡°Who is Eitan?¡± ¡°We¡¯re the pirates, you poor fool. We ambushed you at the warehouse because we thought you were our third man, Eitan. Bastard took more than his fair share. By the time we realized who you were, it was too late.¡± Suddenly I felt very calm. The tension in my face and shoulders dissipated, and my mind honed to a point. Not because the explanation satisfied me, but because the reality of the betrayal had reached my heart. Perhaps I should have asked why he stole the crates, or what he planned to do next. Perhaps I should have stalled him with questions until Ikhamon came looking for us. Instead, I asked, ¡°Do you remember what I told you, Hoyom?¡± ¡°What,¡± he said, ¡°You mean about trying my food? I appreciate the gesture, but that¡¯s not getting you out of there.¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°About what I¡¯d do if you messed with us.¡± He laughed. ¡°Oh, that. Yeah. Burn my face off, right? Hey man, it isn¡¯t personal. And who knows? Maybe that tunnel leads somewher-¡° The next sound he made was one of agony. I had flicked the fingers of my right hand at him, and the liquid nails ignited on the skin of his face before he realized what was happening. I¡¯m pretty sure a drop or two got in his eye. I didn¡¯t let up. It was petty and senseless, but I really didn¡¯t care. It felt good to get back at people who fucked me, almost good enough to make up for getting fucked in the first place. For the moment I just relished it. As he reeled away from the trapdoor I stuck my hand up through the gap and did my best to flick more in the direction I¡¯d seen him flee to. He made little yelps that told me I¡¯d struck true. I was not ready for his retaliation. He must have dropped down onto his back, and now with a scream and a number of expletives he stomped sideways at my hand, smashing it between his boot and the stone slab. I let out a yell of my own and recovered my hand. Then he was back over the gap - peering, I noticed with glee, with the other eye. I smiled despite the pain, and hoped his other eye was blind forever. ¡°I tried to be nice!¡± Hoyom yelled. ¡°I tried to give you a shot! But alright! You asked for it. Goodbye, Miles.¡± He put his palm against the gap, and almost immediately afterwards a gust of wind shot out towards me. If I hadn¡¯t glued my feet to the rungs I probably would have immediately fell. Instead I was whipped back, buffeted by the wind, but kept upright by the coating of nails. Until they cracked. Then I fell. The glue had bought me only a second or two. I heard Hoyom yell some angry curse at me as I fell, but I didn¡¯t hear it. Soon there was nothing around me but darkness, and I was enveloped like a child in the womb. I had an eerie sense of deja-vu, but that was understandable enough. It wasn¡¯t that long before that I had fallen into an even greater depth. And lived. The memory sparked my faculties into action, and I slipped on the ring which still lay inside my pocket - new pants, but I¡¯d been wise enough to remember and transfer it over. Eventually I landed, stopping just millimeters above the surface of the hard ground, which I now noticed was something like concrete. Amaia was just beside me, staring. ¡°Welcome back,¡± Amaia said, and I had the distinct impression she was making fun of me, though I could make out no emotion on her face. ¡°Fuck,¡± I said. - I tried again to climb up and yell at Hoyom, but he was gone, or at least made no sign of his presence. Then I tried to dislodge the stone, but it was impossible. I could just get my fingers out of the gap, but no amount of strain and effort moved the stones even an inch. From the sounds of what Hoyom had said he had piled them on top of each other, so it was unlikely I would have been able to move the whole pile even if I had good footing and a solid grip, which, standing on the ladder, I didn¡¯t. I made Amaia climb up as well, in case the stones had metal cores which she could manipulate with her magic. She knew as well as I did that there was no way we¡¯d be so lucky, but she shrugged and indulged my hopeless hopes. It didn¡¯t work, of course, and I stomped and cursed while she climbed back down. Next we searched the old crates around us, but found nothing of value. It seemed that everything useful had either been long ago looted or else rusted or rotted away into nothing. I¡¯m not sure what I expected. I couldn¡¯t even think of something that would be useful in that situation. A cell phone to call for help? A stick of dynamite to blow up the stones? I ascended one last time to shout out into the now-dark opening, hoping that somehow Ikhamon had survived and would hear me. In all likelihood the two pirates had killed or captured him, overpowering him with superior numbers, but the man was strange and could have surprised me. No answer. I couldn¡¯t even hear the calls of birds or the chirping of insects. It was as quiet as a grave. Finally I relented, climbed back down, and did what I had feared from the beginning would be our only course of action - I stepped into the tunnel. Book 2 Chapter 33 - The Tunnel ¡°I¡¯m so fucking stupid.¡± I muttered under my breath as we walked, our makeshift torches illuminating little of the endless tunnel. It felt like we¡¯d already been walking for hours without stumbling upon anything at all, nothing to think about but my mistakes. ¡°Tom would have noticed it,¡± I said. I shook my head. ¡°No. That¡¯s not true. Tom wouldn¡¯t have even run into this situation. He would have made Hoyom his friend or something, convinced him to leave his life of crime, some stupid shit like that. Fuck.¡± Amaia was walking along the opposite wall of the tunnel so that we would be able to spot any changes - a door is what we were hoping for - but the tunnel wasn¡¯t all that wide, and it was likely she heard at least some of what I was saying. Whatever the case, she hadn¡¯t commented on it, which is perhaps what made me talk to myself as if she wasn¡¯t there at all. That, or I was losing it, and just didn¡¯t care. ¡°See anything?¡± I asked Amaia. She grunted back in response, a grunt that I¡¯d learned to mean ¡°no.¡± ¡°Me nei-¡° I began, but the sentence didn¡¯t finish before I¡¯d proven it wrong. A door, built into the side of the tunnel, was just before me, barely within the small radius of my torchlight. ¡°Found something,¡± I said, and Amaia rushed over to see. ¡°A door.¡± The door was made of stone, and there were no gaps to peek through to get an idea of what was behind it, just a little handle. Amaia only stood there beside the door and looked at me, as if waiting for orders. ¡°Nothing to do but go in, right?¡± I said. ¡°Better than starving in this tunnel that never ends.¡± ¡°Could be something inside,¡± Amaia said, and I wasn¡¯t sure if she was warning me or being optimistic. ¡°Let¡¯s pray for an exit,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ve been walking for hours. At least, it¡¯s felt like hours. Could be minutes, could be days.¡± ¡°Hours,¡± Amaia confirmed. I didn¡¯t ask how she knew - I assumed she was just guessing. I looked at Amaia a little while longer. The noises we still occasionally heard echoing through the tunnel were on my mind. There could be monsters behind the door. Part of me was tempted to say ¡°ladies first¡± and let Amaia take the lead. But although she was probably more suited to that position, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to do it. Not because of some stupid sense of chivalry, but just because I was too upset with myself to do myself the favor. If there was something deadly behind the door, then I deserved it. The door was heavy, and I had to push into it with my shoulder, Amaia eventually joining to help. The door scraped across the ground as it went. The interior was just as dark as anywhere else. I waited a moment and listened. Not hearing anything, I stuck my torch inside, then entered. It was an oddly shaped room. Only a few feet ahead was a dirt wall, but to either side the room stretched out like the tunnel in miniature, a long and skinny room like a hallway. A hallway to nowhere, it turned out. It ran a few yards in one direction and roughly the same distance in the other before both sides ended with dead-ends. The air was a little musty, but not unbearable. The only other things of note were that the long wall was of dirt instead of the stone and concrete of the tunnel, and that from that dirt grew whitish mushrooms, spindly and weak looking, their stems long and withered, their caps raised upwards for no discernible reason, pointing towards the ceiling as if it were the sun. Something about the fungus made me uncomfortable, but I didn¡¯t think it was secretly a monster or anything like that. Perhaps some blood memory was telling me not to eat it, that some distant ancestor had see a relative eat this mushroom and die. Or a similar mushroom, I supposed, because it was unlikely to be the same as any type we had back on Earth. I was quite hungry, but wasn¡¯t particularly tempted to try one. Maybe I¡¯d be more desperate later, but we¡¯d at least had our packs on us when we¡¯d disembarked, and therefore some small amount of food to last us. ¡°How about a break?¡± Amaia asked. ¡°Eat, rest a bit.¡± Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°How are you so unphased by all of this?¡± I asked. ¡°Rest a bit? You¡¯re actually going to be able to sleep down here?¡± She shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s a heavy door, and it¡¯s out of the way. We close it, and it¡¯s unlikely anything will even notice us in here, let alone break in.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant,¡± I said. I sighed. ¡°OK, yeah, fine. Let¡¯s eat.¡± Our dinner consisted of dried meat and hard biscuits, paired with that reddish drink we had been served by Naomi¡¯s parents. It could have been worse, but it did make me miss the decadence of the manor. It didn¡¯t help that the stagnant scent of the room had now been trapped in with us now that the door was shut. Every other bite tasted like stale mushrooms - if mushrooms even went stale. I didn¡¯t know. The meal threatened to be one of complete silence. That left me alone with my thoughts a little more than I liked, so I took the initiative. ¡°How are you doing, Amaia?¡± I asked. ¡°I feel like we never talk.¡± ¡°Trapped,¡± she said. ¡°Tricked. Likely to starve down here, or be killed by some monster. Probably be extremely lost even if we do find our way out. Maybe never see Cadoc and Naomi again.¡± ¡°OK, OK, I get it,¡± I said. ¡°But that¡¯s what you are doing, or what is going on, or whatever. I asked how you are doing.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Pretty fine, really,¡± she said. ¡°Been worse.¡± I laughed. ¡°Really? You¡¯ve been worse?¡± She nodded, and I expected the conversation to end there in normal Amaia fashion. Instead, she continued. ¡°They locked me up for a long time,¡± she said. ¡°Couldn¡¯t even stretch my legs. I was still trapped, still lost, I guess, and still unlikely to ever get out of there. But I couldn¡¯t walk around, and now I can, so yes, I have been worse.¡± I didn¡¯t know what mood had gotten into her - maybe Mars was in retrograde or some stupid astrology shit like that - but I took what I could get. ¡°Who locked you up?¡± I asked. She stared off into space for awhile, coughed, and then continued. ¡°My father.¡± ¡°What?¡± I asked. ¡°Why the fuck did he do that? What an asshole.¡± She shrugged. ¡°It was his job. Same as mine, basically.¡± ¡°What, a bodyguard? What did you do, try to kill the person he was guarding? Hey, Amaia, you still there?¡± But she¡¯d started to nod off, and before I¡¯d even finished asking her, she was asleep. I rolled my eyes. I guessed she was tired. She hadn¡¯t let it show. We hadn¡¯t discussed sleeping in shifts, and I figured we¡¯d be fine to both sleep at once. Anyone trying to open the door would wake us up with the noise. Besides, I was suddenly exhausted. Getting betrayed was tiring work. I settled into a semi-comfortable spot on the floor and, using my bag as a pillow, fell asleep. - I woke up once, or at least once that I remember. I was only half-awake, really. Somehow I¡¯d ended up with my head on Amaia¡¯s side instead of on my bag. I tried to move, but was too sleepy, and honestly, didn¡¯t care. I thought I saw something else in the room with us, but couldn¡¯t keep myself awake long enough to check. Then I was awake again. I felt drowsy and couldn¡¯t remember how I¡¯d gotten to where I was. We were walking again, Amaia on one side of the tunnel and me on the other. I assumed I was still dreaming, because I¡¯d never actually gotten up and left the little room - at least not consciously. But I could still feel the pain in my hand from where Hoyom had stomped it. It was duller than before - likely because of a good night¡¯s rest, if you can call it that - but still I could feel the pain, so I knew I must have been awake. I accepted it easier than you might think. I¡¯d risen and sleepwalked out of the room with Amaia, and Amaia hadn¡¯t even noticed I was still asleep. Crazy, but not impossible. I¡¯d always heard sleepwalking comes from stress, and I wasn¡¯t exactly having a relaxing vacation. The stranger thing about waking up like that was that I seemed to have done so in the middle of a conversation. Stranger still, it was a conversation with myself. ¡°You know what your problem is, Miles?¡± I said to myself, voice barely above a whisper. ¡°You don¡¯t go all the way with things. You think that you¡¯ve stopped copying Tom, but you haven¡¯t. You still let his way of thinking control you.¡± ¡°What do I mean by that?¡± I asked myself. The words had come out of my mouth automatically, and I had to consider why and from where they came. ¡°Do I have to spell it out for you? Listen. Did Hoyom have a spark?¡± I thought about it for a moment, letting my mind wander in the darkness before us. ¡°No,¡± I said finally. ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± the voice mocked. ¡°No, he didn¡¯t. He wasn¡¯t special. He was an NPC, a nobody. Right?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I nodded. ¡°Right.¡± ¡°So why did I - did you - treat him like a friend? Why did you ask him about his dreams, as if an NPC could ever follow a dream, as if someone without a spark could ever achieve anything?¡± I understood. ¡°Because that¡¯s what Tom would have done.¡± ¡°Exactly. It¡¯s what that fucker Tom would have done, because he probably doesn¡¯t even realize that he has something that most people don¡¯t. He doesn¡¯t need to realize it. The world may as well bend around him. He can afford to treat NPCs like people, because his spark will let him get away with it. ¡°I don¡¯t have a spark either,¡± I continued, ¡°But through some combination of spite, magic, and self-awareness, I¡¯m faking it. I¡¯m worse than Tom - hell, I¡¯m even worse than Naomi, or Cadoc, or Amaia - but I¡¯m better than Hoyom. Right? Right. Better than Hoyom. Better than Aster. Better than those women Lot took with him, better than all of these sparkless nobodies.¡± ¡°At the top are the ones with sparks. They are real people. They make decisions, follow dreams, think, change, stand apart from the crowd. They have souls, real souls. ¡°Then, at the bottom, there¡¯s the NPCs. The golems. The fucking machine people. Nothing they do matters, nothing they choose has any substance or effect.¡± I thought of my dad. ¡°They do what people tell them to do, or else they do the opposite for the exact same reasons. They laugh when the movie tells them to laugh, and they cry when it¡¯s appropriate, but do they ever actually feel anything? Or do they just puppet lines from movies - the movies they¡¯re shown of course - and only look like human beings?¡± ¡°And then, in the middle, is me. Half-human. Half a spark. Half aware, and half a soul. ¡°Alone.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Not the point. The point is, fuck them. Remember the women with Lot? Remember how they faded to the background? How you didn¡¯t even bother to learn their names? That was it. You had it for a second. That was how you need to act around these things. Ignore them. Leave them be. Lot can afford to help them if he wants - you can¡¯t. You don¡¯t have anything to spare.¡± ¡°But what about me then?¡± I asked. ¡°I don¡¯t have a spark either, even if I am faking it. Can¡¯t I follow a dream? Or am I just fucked?¡± ¡°Save it with the pity-party. As long as no one notices - which they won¡¯t - then you take what you can fucking get. Survival first, then revenge, then you can worry about your ¡®dreams.¡¯¡± ¡°Right,¡± I agreed, nodding. ¡°Dreams later.¡± And as if my words had summoned it, there was suddenly light before us, almost too close. An end to the tunnel, where it must let out into open air. I didn¡¯t think about the fact that the brightness made no sense, that it probably should have been dark out. Maybe we¡¯d slept a long time. ¡°Look!¡± I yelled, and began running. I was ready to breathe fresh, outdoor air again. But Amaia didn¡¯t follow suit. After all, she didn¡¯t see the light. She was seeing something completely different. Book 2 Chapter 34 - Mushroom Hall Some property of the poison I¡¯d unknowingly imbibed jumbled my sense of time. The order in which I remembered the events later is impossible, things appearing to happen in my memory before the events that caused them. Of course, some of the events themselves never happened at all - some hallucinations, some dreamed. Here are the events as I later decided they must have happened, though it is not as they play out when I recall them. I have had different theories to how things played out, and this is only the one I held true for the longest time, not the first theory, nor the most recent. I remember waking much later, but of course I must have woken first for any of it to make sense. So then there are two wakings, one I remember, and the earlier one, which I don¡¯t. I woke, and I stumbled down the tunnel with Amaia, both of us already under the mushrooms¡¯ spell but neither of us deep enough to realize it - or too deep, maybe. At the end of that first trip - in which maybe I had that conversation with myself, or maybe I didn¡¯t - I did not see the light, though I remember it as if I did. I could not have. Rather, what I must have seen were the bodies. Dozens of them, blackened and withered, skin peeled and warped. Whether they were all fully human I couldn¡¯t tell, but they were all at least part human. The vision of them was seared into my mind, which explains things later. Then, on edge already, we heard something in the dark. It is possible it was an auditory hallucination - or else perhaps only a mass of rodents, grown magnitudes larger by fear and confusion - but it sounded like an army, marching and chittering and singing evil songs accompanied by piercing instruments like xylophones and mandolins which reached us in echoes, impossible to tell how near or far they were. We ran back to the mushroom hall, thinking it was safe, somewhere which we could hole up and escape the notice of the army - though, looking back, it seemed likely that the room itself is what caused the army to appear in the first place. If the army ever existed at all, it was something I wouldn¡¯t learn of for months. There we holed up, and we waited, and somehow, drowsed by the spore-filled air again, we slept. Moving from the half-dream of the hallucination to the full-dream of sleep, we walked the halls again, and here there was no sensation of waking because I didn¡¯t wake, and everything that happened next was created in my head. That was when I must have seen the light, though as I remembered it immediately after, it was one of the first things that had happened. Still under the influence of the dream, I witnessed that vision of light. In the light were monsters, and in the monsters were people, and in the people were flames, and in the flames was me, and inside of me there were monsters, and on the cycle continued infinitely. There was a sensation like being washed away in a river of blood-warm water, and I didn¡¯t get wet because the water was that chain of being, the monsters and the people and the flames and me, versions of me, better and worse and dead and alive, and among them faces like Tom¡¯s but which were mine, faces which could not be mine but yet were. And I thrashed in the water and lost track of Amaia - dream Amaia - and steam filled the air as I melted and burned all that I could reach. Then the water was gone, only the monsters and the people and the flames which I made and in them me. And the monsters were screaming, and the people inside them were dying, and they quickly looked like the charred remains which I had seen while still awake, the bodies which had planted the seed of the nightmare in my mind so that I could dream of them later. When we talked of the experience later, Amaia¡¯s memories diverged from mine in almost every way. She insisted that entire days passed down there in which we did nothing but skulk between shadows and hide from an enemy which never materialized. Well, sometimes she would say ¡°we,¡± and other times she said only ¡°I,¡± and other times still she claimed to be dragging me around with her as she fought off monsters which she could not describe later. The dragging, at least, matched up, because I recall waking the second time to her dragging me out of the doorway of what I assumed was the mushroom hall. Then I blacked out again, and the next thing I remember, we were outside. The clean air is what finally freed us of our hallucinations. It felt like slowly fading back into existence. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. It was dark, and I had no way of knowing where we were, but the stars above were only stars and not eyes and that was comfort enough. - The next morning we were something close to fully recovered. ¡°Sleep well?¡± Amaia asked as I rose. She was tending a crackling fire which I half-remembered starting for us the night before, and the sun was rising in a direction which disoriented me - I would have guessed any other direction to be east before that one. Though I could barely see it, as we seemed to be in some sort of ravine. I laughed weakly. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Me neither,¡± she said. We did a check of ourselves, hoping it would uncover some clue as to what happened to us in the tunnel. Everything was mostly intact, although we were shorter on food than I would have guessed. Digging through my pockets I was happy to find the cold metal of the ring still there. But beside it was something else. At nearly the same time Amaia pulled a handful of something from her own clothes. Mushrooms, those same thin and withered looking ones we had slept beside before it all started. I opened my own hand and found I was holding the same, though I couldn¡¯t recall ever putting them there. I squinted at them suspiciously. Even outside I could smell that musty smell emanating from them. Without a thought I leaned in close and inhaled the scent, foolishly. Immediately I was transported underground again. At least, it looked to be underground because I could see no natural light, no windows. I was behind bars, and the walls were made of stacked stone blocks, but the room itself was not without comfort. There was carpeting, and a pleasant looking bed, and other bits of furniture such that the cell looked like the suite of a hotel rather than the prison it was. I felt at once in two places. I was on the bed, and I was also standing beside the bed looking at myself. In the bed with me was Naomi, naked. Then I was awake again, and I was outside, and Amaia was looking at me with concern written on her face. I blinked and shook myself, throwing the mushrooms to the ground. I breathed deeply of the fresh air, the cold of it helping to bring me back. ¡°Well,¡± I said finally. ¡°That explains that.¡± I told Amaia that the mushrooms must be hallucinogenic, and I had to stop her before she immediately tossed her handful into the fire. ¡°Do you want to trip again?¡± I asked. ¡°Think about what¡¯s going to happen if you burn those. We¡¯d be inhaling smoky lungfuls of them immediately. She still seemed a little dazed, but maybe that was because she was still holding the mushrooms. ¡°Just throw them on the ground,¡± I said. She did, and we walked a little ways away from our impromptu campsite to get some more air. I thought I had seen Tom for a second standing on the rim of the little hole we were in and watching us, so I knew I wasn¡¯t fully clear-headed yet. We took the opportunity to survey our surroundings. The tunnel had let out into the side of a hill. Or perhaps it is better to say into the middle of a hill, because the hill was not cleared away in front of the entrance. You had to climb a little stairway up and out of this hole in the hill, so that from outside no one would be able to find it unless they stumbled into the hole by accident - at which point they would probably break their legs from the fall, and the couple of old bones we found on the stairs attested to that. The stairs were overgrown with a thin vine I¡¯d never seen before but which reminded me of the kudzu which had blanketed the southern US. Reaching the top, I feared I would recognize nothing, that we would be far off to the east and we would die getting back to Coernet. Instead, I recognized my surroundings immediately, at least partially. I was overjoyed to see the clay-stained water of the Blood flowing down below, some distance off but not more than a mile or so. The tunnel must have been at a slight angle for us to have exited it as high as we did, but it did at least afford us a good view. I climbed still further up the hill so that I could see in the other direction - which I thought of at first as south because of the flow of the river, but I had to remind myself that I did not know if the Blood always flowed south to north as it did near Coernet. But rounding the hill, mentally preparing myself to see nothing but woods and hills and river and monster, I saw a brisk day of sunlight shining on that great bridge of Coernet, the figures below making that arcane gesture with their hands which looked now like a symbol of greeting. ¡°We¡¯re here!¡± I yelled, and I practically jumped onto Amaia as she climbed up beside me. ¡°It¡¯s Coernet! We¡¯re not dead!¡± Amaia only looked out over it all, but I caught the glimpse of a smile. We were to the north some, but on the wrong side of the river, and past the fork such that a branch of the river lay not only between us and Coernet, but even between us and the garrison¡¯s outpost on the river¡¯s eastern bank. From above I could see that trying to swim across the river in either place would be suicide for any but the most skilled swimmers, and my spirits dropped slightly. ¡°How will we get across?¡± Amaia asked, and I only shook my head. Then she patted my shoulder with one hand, and I nearly jumped. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, friend. We will find a way.¡± I looked at her with suspicion. ¡°Are you OK?¡± I asked. She stared at me for awhile, then closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and looked at me again. ¡°Sorry,¡± she said. ¡°I was Cadoc in one of those dreams. Guess I was still waking up.¡± I laughed despite our situation, and it helped to calm my nerves. ¡°Come on then, ¡®friend.¡¯ Let¡¯s put this fire out before monsters see it. We¡¯re in enemy territory now.¡± We descended back down the stairs, careful not to slip on the vines, and stamped out our fire. It was lucky we had exited the tunnel at night, as none was likely to have seen the smoke, and the fire itself would not be visible inside the hill¡¯s pocket. ¡°Suppose we make smoke signals to the garrison,¡± I said. ¡°You think they¡¯ll come get us?¡± ¡°No,¡± Amaia said. ¡°They¡¯ll just think the monsters are burning something.¡± ¡°I guess you¡¯re right.¡± I caught sight of the mushrooms again, sitting there in the dirt, and an idea came to me. ¡°Amaia,¡± I said. ¡°Hold me down if I try to wander off.¡± She nodded and didn¡¯t ask for any explanation. I rummaged around in my pack until I found what I was looking for - one of the health potions Ikhamon had given me. I uncorked it and, although I didn¡¯t need it, downed what was inside. I offered Amaia a sip, and she took it, though I doubted she needed it either. It did help me feel more awake though, like coffee, which was nice. Then, left with an empty bottle and a cork, I picked up the mushrooms and stuffed them inside. I returned the stopper and turned over the bottle in my hands, examining it, thinking. I¡¯d already planned to sell health potions to Dimen-X. I wondered if they¡¯d agree to selling drugs, too. Book 2 Chapter 35 - Help The first thing to do was to hike down closer to the river and see if there was any way across we couldn¡¯t spot from up on the hill. It was unlikely, obviously, but it was just like climbing up the ladder in the tunnel to try the trapdoor again: pointless, but I couldn¡¯t help myself. It was also dangerous. We were in monster-infested territory, and while we hadn¡¯t seen anything yet, I kept my head on a swivel looking for any signs of movement. I didn¡¯t really have any idea how numerous they were this close to the river, or how deadly, but I could only guess that they were bad news. ¡°So what¡¯s the deal with the tunnel, you think?¡± I asked Amaia as we walked - mostly to distract my nerves. ¡°I thought it might be a sewer at first, but there was no smell.¡± ¡°Not sure,¡± she answered, carefully shuffling her way down the hill. ¡°Could have been an aqueduct, once. Or a secret tunnel for criminals.¡± ¡°Do criminals have the resources to build something like that?¡± She shrugged. ¡°Not all criminals are poor. Some get rich through crime, others start rich and do it for fun.¡± ¡°For fun?¡± I laughed. ¡°Reminds me of someone. ¡®Sure, why not, I¡¯ve never done that before.¡¯¡± Amaia chuckled. ¡°You got me. I¡¯m actually a rich heiress. I¡¯m just here for the thrill, waiting for you to ask me to rob people - like you did with Cadoc before I met you, if I remember correctly.¡± ¡°Really?¡± I asked. Her voice had stayed so flat it sounded like a confession. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Not really.¡± We were coming down to the base of the hill then. The northeast branch of the river spilled out wide in front of us. I could see the walls where the garrison stationed themselves, and it was strange to think that Cadoc might be there at that very moment, sparring with the men there, oblivious to our situation. Except, I thought, it has been a full day since we left. Or at least that long. Maybe he¡¯s out looking for us. I appreciated the thought, but it¡¯d likely be better for everyone if he wasn¡¯t. It was basically impossible that he¡¯d actually find us, and he might just end up lost himself. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Amaia asked, pointing. I stared. There was some small point, far off, moving across the sparsely-treed plain beyond the garrison walls. Then it was many points, and they must have been moving from the southeast because as they came closer to the garrison moving left to right, they grew in size as well, resolving into figures I could almost make out. ¡°Monsters,¡± I said finally. Another group of them, like Gad had shown us, rushing towards the garrison. I couldn¡¯t exactly make out what they looked like, but they hardly looked human, and what else was out there? ¡°Perfect.¡± ¡°Perfect?¡± Amaia repeated. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°They can¡¯t get to us, but they¡¯ll get the garrison out of their walls. If we¡¯re lucky, one of them will see us. We¡¯re obviously human.¡± Or at least, I look human, I thought. Amaia shook her head. ¡°They¡¯ll be facing the wrong way.¡± It was true, since the monsters were coming from the southeast. ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯ll have to turn back when they¡¯re done, and then we can wave our arms and shout and get their attention.¡± ¡°Works for me, I guess.¡± So we waited, sitting down in the grass beside the Blood, ready to observe the battle like we were having a picnic beside some outdoor performance. And I was starving, so we ate as well, more dry food and that red drink. There was something surreal about it. Despite it all, I became quite relaxed, and enjoyed my leisurely meal as we watched the garrison run and fly forth out of the gates, maneuver wildly around their opponents, and face them in life-or-death combat. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. We didn¡¯t have much food left so we were long past done eating by the time the battle ended. From such a distance it was hard to even tell who won, but it must have been the garrison as the surviving figures walked calmly back to the gates rather than rushing in towards them like a band of bloodthirsty beasts. And at times the sun caught on their polished armor, sending glittering reflections to us which were unmistakable. As soon as we could tell they had turned we stood, raised our hands high above our heads, and yelled. ¡°Hey! Over here! We¡¯re human!¡± But even waving our arms back and forth seemed to accomplish nothing. The figures in the distance didn¡¯t waver or change course. ¡°Keep waving and shouting,¡± I said to Amaia. ¡°I¡¯m going to try something else. We¡¯ve got to get their attention.¡± I pulled out my slingshot from where it hung on my belt - where it hung uselessly, since I¡¯d never replenished my ammunition. But the shore there beside the northeast branch was rocky, and I was able to quickly gather stones that looked like they would work. I covered the stones quickly with liquid nail, loaded one into the slingshot, and fired, sending the stone shooting towards the crowd. It didn¡¯t reach them, of course - too far - but I ignited the nail as the stone reached the zenith of it¡¯s flight and hoped the bits of flame appearing suddenly in the sky would draw their attention. I loaded and sent one after another. ¡°I think they noticed,¡± Amaia said. She was right. The group had stopped moving. ¡°Over here!¡± I yelled as loudly as I could, knowing my throat would be sore afterwards from the strain. ¡°Help!¡± The group didn¡¯t move for awhile. Finally two of the figures broke from the others and began moving our way while the others continued back towards the gates. ¡°Yes!¡± I said, pumping my fist. ¡°Hell yeah, we did it.¡± ¡°I hope they¡¯ve got a boat or something,¡± Amaia said. We watched as they approached. The sight of them became more and more distinct until finally they were, without a doubt, two tall men in full suits of metallic armor, each holding one of those long-bladed polearms I¡¯d since learned was called a glaive. When they finally reached the other side of the river, they were still at such a distance that I was sure they could only hear us if we shouted. I could see their helmets turn as the two seemed to be talking to each other, but I heard not a word. ¡°Hey!¡± I yelled. ¡°Thanks for coming! We¡¯re a bit stuck out here!¡± ¡°Think they can leap over here with their magic?¡± Amaia asked. ¡°Maybe. But then what? I¡¯m not sure they could carry us back. Hey!¡± I yelled again. ¡°Can you hear me?¡± It wasn¡¯t clear that they did, but they did turn towards each other again. I thought that maybe they were discussing how best to help us across. ¡°Do you guys have a boat?¡± I asked. ¡°Just yell something back at me so I know you can hear me!¡± They did no such thing. They continued their silent conversation, and I was beginning to get frustrated at their refusal to answer. ¡°Fuckers,¡± I said. ¡°Give me an answer, at least. I get that you¡¯re planning to help us, but I¡¯d feel a lot better if you fucking said something!¡± ¡°Maybe they can¡¯t hear,¡± Amaia offered. ¡°Maybe,¡± I said. ¡°But I don¡¯t think so. They started talking again after I started shouting, so I¡¯m sure they were discussing what I said. Probably wondering how the fuck we got over here.¡± ¡°I guess.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± I yelled. ¡°We¡¯re from Coernet! We took a boat over, but we lost it! Long story!¡± No answer. I could see that the conversation they were having, whatever it was, was growing animated. One of the men started to step backwards from the riverside, but the other guard put a hand on his armored shoulder. ¡°Hey!¡± I yelled again, ¡°Where the fuck are you going?!¡± They¡¯d begun to walk away. ¡°Maybe they¡¯re getting the boat.¡± ¡°Fuck,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe they¡¯re leaving us behind, the assholes. Hey! Fucking say something! Are you coming back?¡± No answer. They had turned their backs on us and didn¡¯t hesitate in their steps, slowly walking away. I grabbed my slingshot again. ¡°No fucking way,¡± I muttered to myself. ¡°Not happening.¡± I sent a flurry of rocks at the retreating men, igniting them as they flew. Tiny fireballs rained down around them, some clanging off their armor with a noise like a gong which I could hear even from where I stood. That got their attention. They turned back towards us. ¡°Sorry!¡± I yelled. There was something about the way they walked that told me they were pissed. One of them, at least. ¡°But you¡¯ve got to answer me! I can¡¯t just wait out here, not knowing if you¡¯re coming back or not!¡± They reached the riverside again. I expected them to finally shout back at me - instead, they leaped. Their magic must have been pretty strong to propel a man in a full suit of armor, let alone doing so across that great distance of the river. But they did, soaring towards us like they were shot from cannons. They landed just a little ways upriver from us, near the fork, but within a few yards. I was dimly happy that they hadn¡¯t misjudged and landed right on top of us. ¡°Wow,¡± I said. ¡°Well hey, I appreciate it, guys. Sorry for the fireballs. What¡¯s the plan? Can you guys help us get back to town?¡± But still they didn¡¯t answer. They only walked towards us. It may have been naive, but part of me wondered if they were sick, throats sore, and were unable to yell or even speak loudly. Amaia guessed at the truth quicker than I did. ¡°I don¡¯t think they want to help,¡± Amaia muttered. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think they came over here for the view.¡± But the guards had both hands on their weapons now, and it was clear by their posture that Amaia was right. ¡°Get ready to fight,¡± Amaia said, drawing her golden sword. ¡°Or run, if you prefer.¡± ¡°What the hell, guys?¡± I said. ¡°What the fuck did we ever do to you? I said I¡¯m sorry about the fireballs. But there¡¯s no way they even-¡± I was interrupted by a silent swing of a glaive. The man had approached slowly, then all at once, and I wondered later if his magic had allowed his to burst forward like that. The blade didn¡¯t quite reach me, but I could tell he¡¯d meant to take my head off. I dropped my slingshot as I drew my drows, not having enough time to attach it back to my belt. ¡°Shit,¡± I heard the one who¡¯d attacked me mutter to himself. He readied for another swing. The weapon allowed his an advantage over most in range, but a wide swing like that was slow to recover from. Amaia stepped between us. The other man had swiped at her, but his weapon went wide. ¡°Stay behind me,¡± Amaia said. ¡°And we might be OK.¡± The one who¡¯d attacked me now swung towards Amaia, but again he missed - though this time I doubted it was just bad aim. ¡°I can¡¯t hit them, Arlotto!¡± the man yelled. His voice was high and shaky. ¡°I told you we should have left them.¡± ¡°I told you not to talk!¡± Arlotto shouted back, swinging again at Amaia. ¡°Just help me slay them and we¡¯ll be done.¡± There was no mistaking things now. They wanted to kill us. Good luck. I started throwing liquid nails, careful to stay behind Amaia and yet off to one side enough to not hit her. My nails landed on the men¡¯s armor more often than not, but it wasn¡¯t obvious it was having any effect. No exposed skin, at least that was easy to get to. ¡°We don¡¯t have to do this!¡± I yelled. ¡°We¡¯re from Coernet! We just want to get back! We¡¯re friends with Cadoc. You know him, right? You must have met him just the other day.¡± I saw hesitation in the man with the shaky voice. ¡°Did you hear that, Arlotto? How would it know about-¡° But his friend didn¡¯t stop, screaming over the voice of his partner as he lunged at Amaia. I lunged as well. I had to take whatever chance I could. As the one man hesitated, questioning his friend, I dashed forward, bringing my drows down, aiming for his armored head. Another sound like a gong ran out as the two metals clashed. Book 2 Chapter 36 - Underground Network of Pirates The blow to the helmet had clearly stunned the man, and he stumbled. I took the opportunity to pounce on him, tackling him to the ground with a rattling of metal. Amaia was keeping the other man - Arlotto, apparently - busy, but I doubted that it would last long. I brought my hand over the helmet just above the slits made for vision, and a sudden sense of deja vu washed over me. I was surprised when the voice inside shouted out - I¡¯d hoped for a moment that I¡¯d knocked him unconscious - and I was even more surprised by what it said. ¡°Arlotto! Just grab the slingshot and let¡¯s go!¡± I glanced over at where I had dropped it, and caught sight of Arlotto and Amaia. Somewhere in the scramble they had swapped places, and there was nothing keeping Arlotto from grabbing it. But what did I care? There was also nothing keeping me from melting the attacker¡¯s face off. ¡°More fucking pirates, huh?¡± I said as the nail began dripping from my fingertips, thinking I had finally figured it out. ¡°That¡¯s it, right? Hoyom told you about us, said to watch for us, right? I¡¯m going to get your friends too, y¡¯know. I¡¯m going to get all of you.¡± The man wrestled with me, trying to dislodge my weight and throw me off, but he had to have been dazed still from the blow. His own armor also worked against him, the weight of it making it easier to keep him down, it seemed, like a turtle unable to right itself. The molten nail poured in through the opening, and in exchange the man¡¯s screams poured out. For a moment. Then I was in the air, launched off of the man like a leaf in the breeze. I caught a glimpse of the bridge, and of the manor further off. I landed with a splash in the warm water of the Blood. I did my best to scramble up to see what had happened but the water was deep enough that my feet couldn¡¯t find any purchase. Eventually, sputtering, I righted myself. Just in time to see one man, then the other, sail overhead. From that distance I couldn¡¯t tell the difference between the two, but I could tell immediately that one hadn¡¯t jumped far enough. Perhaps he was low on mana - and maybe that¡¯s why they hadn¡¯t launched up into the river from the very beginning. One man landed ashore - just barely - while the other splashed into the water. I was busy swimming to shore so I didn¡¯t catch the next part, but Amaia told me that the one who had made it stripped off his armor and dove in after his companion, who was sinking like a stone. She was able to see them from the spot she had been launched to, which was on dry land. The man was able to fish the other out. And no, Amaia did not recognize him underneath the armor. I had thought dimly that Arlotto could have been a code name, and it was Hoyom and Aster again, somehow, having joined the garrison in order to lay low. It took some time for me to swim back - I was surprisingly far from the riverbank. When I finally made it to shore, dripping wet, I found Amaia in a bush. She was just laying there on her side, only her head visible outside of foliage, watching the other side of the river. ¡°You okay?¡± I asked, although she looked basically unharmed. ¡°Fine,¡± she said. ¡°Though that could have gone better.¡± I glanced across at where she was staring and saw the two glittering figures retreating into the distance. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°Hard to argue with that.¡± ¡°Alive, though,¡± she offered. - We retreated back to our little camp in the hill, knowing that we¡¯d need a new plan and that we wouldn¡¯t want to be caught out in the open air in the meantime. The two garrison men might come back with reinforcements, or, more likely, we could get caught flat-footed by some roaming monsters. I was shivering cold. I hadn¡¯t noticed how much the temperature had been dropping the previous few days - and perhaps it had dropped further while we were in the tunnel - but it was a world of a difference from the previous time I stepped out of the river. The return hike was brutal, the wind blowing from the southeast biting at my wet skin. Getting back into the gap in the hill cut off the wind, but it also cut off the sun - all in all, little better than a wash. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Part of me wanted to dive back into the water, since I hadn¡¯t been cold at all in the warm Blood. But I knew that was ridiculous. I also wanted, desperately, to start our fire back up, and Amaia had to remind me how foolish of an idea that was as well. In the end I had no choice but to strip off my wet clothes - I made Amaia face the other direction, though I caught her peeking once at my backside, and I could have sworn she blushed as she turned away again - and then wrap myself in Amaia¡¯s long cloak which she had offered to me. It seemed to be made of wool, or something like it. ¡°I want a warm shower,¡± I muttered under my breath as I sat there beside the dead fire, running my arms against my legs underneath the cloak trying to warm myself up more quickly. ¡°I want a warm shower and a towel just out of the dryer and a heater blowing at full blast and I could stand beside the vent and drink hot chocolate and...¡± I¡¯m not sure how much longer I went, but eventually I stopped mumbling, staring at nothing in particular. ¡°What do you think?¡± I finally asked. Amaia had been sitting there without a word, and I think if I hadn¡¯t spoken first she might have stayed like that for hours. ¡°I think you made them mad,¡± she said. ¡°So this is my fault?¡± She shrugged and didn¡¯t look at me. ¡°They seemed mad that you shot at them. They took your slingshot. Before that they were just going to leave.¡± ¡°Yeah but that¡¯s what I mean,¡± I said. ¡°Why were they just going to leave us in the first place? Doesn¡¯t that seem strange?¡± ¡°Maybe they were going to get a boat,¡± she said. It was the second time she¡¯d said it. ¡°So you think that maybe they were actually going to help us, but then I shot at them - to get their attention, let¡¯s be clear - so they decided to kill us?¡± Amaia shrugged again. ¡°Could be.¡± ¡°You know, you can be really fucking annoying sometimes,¡± I said. ¡°You really think this is my fault. You really think that I fucked this up and now we¡¯re stuck here and that we could be sailing back to Coernet right now if I had just been patient.¡± Amaia stood, and for a second I thought I had crossed some line, that she was going too shout at me or fight me or leave. Instead, she walked over to my pile of wet clothes and armor, picked them up, and said, ¡°I¡¯m going to go lay these out to dry in the sun.¡± She left, and I sat stewing. She¡¯s probably right, I thought. It probably is all my fault. Pirates. As if. What an easy excuse. ¡°All my enemies are pirates. There¡¯s a vast underground network of pirates, and they¡¯ve infiltrated the garrison and are making sure I never make it back to Coernet.¡± Compared to that, it sounds much more reasonable that I just made them angry. I miss Earth, I thought again. I miss being able to lie in my warm bed and fantasize about that fake photograph and fake women. Bed, I thought again. Floor, I mean. Fucking Tom. I miss being Tom. It was such lower stress to be someone else. But then I remembered what happened next whenever I was laying under the covers back on Earth, and just how lonely a place it was inside of another man¡¯s skin, and I realized again that I was at least a little thankful to have something like friends. When Amaia returned I apologized. ¡°You might be right,¡± I said. ¡°I may have fucked things up. It just made me angry to think of it. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Amaia shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re apologizing about, but OK. I accept.¡± ¡°Do you do that on purpose?¡± I asked. ¡°I know Naomi pisses me off on purpose, but I¡¯ve always thought that you do it on accident. But now I wonder if you¡¯re actually even better than Naomi at it.¡± She shrugged, but she was grinning while she did it. We both laughed. There was nothing to do for awhile but wait for my clothes to dry. We didn¡¯t want to poke our heads out of the hole too much - certainly not clothed in nothing but a cloak, as I was - so we simply talked for awhile. Though I did most of the talking. ¡°Do you think they could have been friends of Hoyom?¡± I asked after awhile, hoping once again to shove off the responsibility of our situation. Amaia muttered something noncommittally that I didn¡¯t quite catch. I stared at her awhile before she spoke again. ¡°Probably not,¡± she said. ¡°They only mentioned one other pirate, and there were two who came from the garrison.¡± ¡°True,¡± I said. ¡°If they had other friends, they would have brought them when they tried to ambush me and Ikhamon. You think Ikhamon is alive?¡± ¡°Unlikely.¡± I nodded. ¡°Yeah. Poor old man. Probably drowned or something.¡± We sat in silence for awhile. I was thinking about Ikhamon dying and how it was probably at least a little bit my fault, but I can¡¯t say for sure that Amaia was thinking about anything in particular. ¡°Still,¡± I said. ¡°Some pretty aggressive guards, huh? To just attack someone like that. Even if they were pissed.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Amaia said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem strange to me.¡± ¡°Really? Isn¡¯t their entire job to protect the people of Coernet? I would think that attacking civilians is kind of out of the job description.¡± ¡°They¡¯re supposed to protect the people in the city,¡± she corrected. ¡°Killing people who are out of the city is fine.¡± ¡°Great,¡± I said. ¡°I see the level of morals we¡¯re working with here. And what about that ¡®I told you not to talk to them¡¯ stuff? That in the job description, too?¡± ¡°No idea.¡± ¡°Did you kill people when you were a bodyguard? Have I asked you that before?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± she said, ¡°And probably.¡± ¡°Did you¡­¡± I thought of Nolan suddenly, and that look of shock and horror on his face as I launched myself at him and we fell endlessly down into that dark abyss. ¡°Do you regret it?¡± ¡°No.¡± I chuckled. ¡°Great. Good talk.¡± Eventually my clothes were dry enough to put back on, but by then it was nearly night again. We ate a bit of our remaining rations - which were basically just scraps by then - and slept beside our re-made fire. In the morning, we talked again about our next steps. ¡°OK,¡± I said. ¡°This is going to sound crazy. Are you ready?¡± ¡°Crazier than normal?¡± ¡°Who are you and what have you done with Amaia?¡± I asked, smiling. ¡°Snarky comebacks now, really? Did those shrooms fry your brain?¡± She shrugged. ¡°Ah, no, it¡¯s you. Yes, crazier than normal. Or¡­ well, maybe not. Regular crazy.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± ¡°Do you think the tunnel might go under the river? Like, I kind of remember some forks in the path down there, and I think at least one was on our left. I mean, I may have hallucinated it, but-¡° ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Amaia said. ¡°I remember that, too.¡± ¡°Perfect,¡± I said. ¡°Then I think that¡¯s the next step. Fuck the surface, fuck trying to swim across or build a raft or call for help again or make smoke signals or any of those other stupid ideas we had last night. Let¡¯s go back into the tunnel.¡± QUICK UPDATE Hi all, A blizzard took out my internet/power, posting this from another location but I don''t have access to my chapters right now. So no chapter today, but I expect it to be resolved soon. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Sorry for the delay! Royal Road doesn''t let me post this unless it''s at least 500 characters long so...............................................................................................................................................................