Tag Archives: Shaeine

6 – 14

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

“I’m sorry,” Trissiny said. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”

The group, still sorting themselves out on the platform above the Descent, came to a stop, all of them turning to look at her. Trissiny had come out first and placed herself just before the ramp down to the floating platform, looking out over the vast, sloping central cavern of the Crawl.

“It seems you had a point, though,” Teal said carefully after a short, tense silence.

“Of course. I always have a point,” Trissiny said testily, turning to face them. “But that’s not the same as being right. I lashed out because I was offended, not out of a desire to educate you. So…I’m sorry. That was wrong of me.”

“Apology accepted,” Shaeine said with a smile. “The education was still worthwhile.”

“Shit, I can deal with being yelled at, if there’s good intelligence in it,” Ruda said breezily. “That about demons and their patterns was good to know.”

Trissiny nodded. “I’ve been thinking. About…demons and their patterns, and the specific things we’ve seen going on here, not just about how I mistrust them in general.”

“Have you come to any conclusions?” Toby asked.

She fixed her gaze on him. “How much did you study demonology, Toby?”

“Just the basics,” he admitted. “And not from my own cult; the Universal Church gave me a grounding in the subject after Omnu called me. Nothing like you got, I’m sure.”

She nodded again, shifting her gaze. “Shaeine?”

“It was a matter of more practical concern to my people,” the drow said calmly, “but our situation is very different. Narisians mostly encounter demons as thralls to Scyllithene warlocks and shadow-priestesses. We have sturdy walls between us and them, and no real opportunity for their kind to engage in subterfuge.”

“I see,” Trissiny mused. “The thing is… Demons are not just physically different; they have a unique psychology. More so than the mortal races, different demonic species are inclined to act in certain ways. It’s the saturation of infernal magic that does it. The energy is corrupting; it promotes aggression in living things, in addition to physically distorting them.”

“How so?” Gabriel asked.

“As I said…in different ways for different species.” She gave him a significant look. “Hethelaxi are considered the most human-like of demonic races. In fact, some theologians believe they are descendants of a human population that ended up alive in Hell for whatever reason and adapted to survive there.”

“Bullshit,” Ruda snorted.

“I dunno, I could see that happening,” said Juniper. She shrugged when everyone turned to look at her. “Well, that’s what humans are like, y’know?”

“Ouch,” said Toby with a grin.

“Oh, that’s not what I mean,” the dryad said crossly. “It’s the short lifespans humans have that give you such a long-term advantage. You cycle through generations so fast, your evolution is hugely accelerated compared to the other intelligent races. I mean… Well, there’s skin color, that’s the quickest thing. Toby and Ruda are so much darker than Teal and Trissiny, and Gabe’s somewhere in between. You ever wonder why?”

“Not especially,” Ruda said, taking a swig of whiskey.

“That’s an adaptation to sunlight,” Juniper said earnestly. “A population of humans moves into an area—like the western coast, or Puna Dara—that’s either equatorial or high in altitude and gets a lot more sunshine, right? Well, too much sun can be bad, so you get people dying from sunstroke and skin cancer. The ones who develop darker skin don’t suffer those same risks, at least not as much, and so they live to pass on their genes. Eventually the whole population shifts to accommodate the environment.” She shrugged. “It’s evolution. It happens with all life forms. It’s just that of the mortal, magic-using races, most of them live a lot longer, which means they have individual advantages, but human generations cycle so fast that they adapt quicker and have a species advantage. So, yeah, if there was any mortal race that I figure could adapt to Hell, it’s humans.”

“And so, hethelaxi,” Trissiny said, nodding. “Not all scholars agree on it and there’s no proof, but it’s a valid theory. Psychologically speaking, they basically are human. It’s the berserking; it serves as an outlet for the aggression that infernal corruption causes, but one that’s not turned on all the time. When they’re not in berserk mode, a hethelax is pretty much just a person; they have individual personalities and aptitudes, to the point that unlike other demons you can never really predict how a given hethelax will behave. They don’t even have a broad cultural imperative; most of them occupy lower castes in the societies of other demonic races.”

“Hm,” Gabriel said, frowning into the distance.

“It’s different with the others,” Trissiny went on more grimly. “Succubi and incubi, for example. They, like all demon species, are highly aggressive, but what differentiates what we call corrupter demons from the others is their belligerence isn’t overt. They are subtle, manipulative. Talking with one, it’s easy to forget that they’re every bit as prone to aggression, just in their own way.”

She began to pace back and forth. “This has been nagging at me since we’ve been down here, and I only just put my finger on what was bothering me. We’ve seen two children of Vanislaas in passive, static, leadership positions, places where they have to stay in one place and do the same thing day after day. For a succubus, that’s… It’s like being confined alone in a small room would be to a human. It would drive them mad.”

“Neither of those we have met seemed at all unhinged,” Shaeine noted.

“Yes,” said Trissiny, nodding to her. “And in Melaxyna’s case, I can see why. She’s working. Tellwyrn stuck her in the Descent to get repeatedly killed by adventurers; from there she’s manipulated things around to earn the Crawl’s approval and set herself up as a person of actual authority, not a token level boss. And she’s not done working, either. How much you want to bet she makes every adventurer passing through Level 2 the same offer she did us, to get rid of Rowe?”

“No bet,” Gabriel said immediately, grinning. Several of the others nodded.

Indeed, when they had materialized in Level 2 after using the waystone, the succubus had seized the opportunity to repeat her offer, despite Trissiny’s efforts to hurry the party back up the stairs and out of demon territory. They also weren’t the only travelers present this time; the party of drow from the Grim Visage had been present, browsing at the alchemy stand under Xsythri’s watchful eye.

“Which brings us to Rowe himself,” Trissiny continued, stopping her pacing and turning to face them again. “He’s in a sanctuary, where he can’t harm or be harmed. He’s got a rival demon putting contracts on his head, so he can’t leave. The situation has to be absolute torture for him.”

“He didn’t seem…tortured,” Fross said doubtfully.

“What an incubus seems like has very little bearing on anything, Fross,” Trissiny said patiently. “They are masters of deception. Above all, he wouldn’t show signs of his weakness to potentially hostile strangers. So I have to ask…what’s the point? What is it about the Grim Visage that’s worth him subjecting himself to all the peace and quiet, and that makes Melaxyna want to do the same to herself?”

“I dunno,” Toby said, frowning. “Not to doubt your word, Trissiny, but it seems…thin.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. “Just trust me that this is what these creatures are like. I have studied them extensively, I promise you. Thinking it all over, I’m starting to realize my knee-jerk reaction to all this got everything backwards.”

“Well, ain’t that a first,” Ruda cackled, taking a swig from her bottle.

“Backwards how?” Fross asked.

“That Level 2 might not be a worse situation for us than the Grim Visage,” Trissiny replied.

“I think I see what you mean,” Teal mused. “If incubi and succubi think the way you say, then… Well, the fact that the demons on Level 2 were unfriendly to us is actually a good sign.”

“Yeah,” said Trissiny, nodding. “Xsythri made it obvious she didn’t appreciate our presence. Melaxyna tried to throw us out. The succubus at least is capable of being subtle enough to use that as a smokescreen, but… I don’t know what motive she’d have. The only thing she wants from us is Rowe’s head, and she told us that up front.”

“She also wants our coin,” Fross piped up. “But, yeah, she was pretty up front about that, too.”

“She might have ulterior motives, of course, but Tellwyrn’s invisible hand means there’s not much else she can aspire to down here. On the other hand, Rowe’s situation looks odder the more I study it,” Trissiny went on. “The enforced peace of the sanctuary effect is not mentally healthy for him. But he keeps himself there, and Melaxyna wants to take it from him. There is something in the Grim Visage, or something about it, that demons desire.”

“You think we’d be safer moving our base to Level 2?” Toby asked.

“No.” Trissiny shook her head. “No, the Visage is explicitly safer. But…that very fact means there’s something afoot that we don’t understand. I think we need to keep that firmly in mind.”


 

The merchant wing of the Grim Visage, when they re-entered, was in the opposite condition from that in which they’d left it. Shamlin’s stall seemed to be unoccupied, but the other three were each manned. Near the door to their right, the tiny alchemist’s shop was in business, a gnome in a stiff leather apron and goggles actually standing on the counter itself to deal with her customer, a male naga who gave the students a suspicious look and shifted to keep them in view but offered no overt hostility. Across from the gnome, the stand labeled “Enchanter” was occupied by a striking drow woman in a gauzy white gown. She had blue streaks dyed in her hair with something that actually glowed softly, as did the swirling geometric tattoos that started around her left eye, ran down her neck and along her arm to terminate at the tip of her middle finger.

“Hello, hello!” she called at them upon their entry, beaming and waving enthusiastically. Definitely not Narisian, then. “You must be the new students. Shame on you, skittering out before we all have a chance to introduce ourselves! Please, come, let’s get acquainted.”

“Ooh, are you an enchantress?” Fross asked, buzzing over. “Neat! Gabe and I do arcane magic, too!”

The drow’s cheerful expression immediately fell. “Ah. You have little need of my services, then?”

“We’re not that advanced,” Gabriel said hastily. “Well, I’m not, and I’m the enchanting student. Fross is more of a general mage. And…we’re in our second semester, it’s been all arcane theory till now. They won’t let us study actual enchanting till next year. I’m Gabe, by the way.”

“And I am the Lady Radivass,” she said, her bright smile returning. “Welcome, new friends. I’m sure we’ll have many profitable things to discuss.”

“Lady, bah,” snorted another voice. At the next stand up, across from Shamlin’s, a dwarf paused in laying out knives on his counter to leer at her. “Funny how a body gets far enough from home not to be contradicted and suddenly has all kinds of titles.”

“You button your yap, Fengir, before I come over there and button it for you!” Radivass snarled, making an obscene gesture at him.

“You an’ what army, knife-ear?” he replied, grinning nastily.

She thrust her hand into something underneath her counter, pulled it back out and hurled a cloud of glittering dust at him, which shot across the space between their stalls more like a thrown object than a handful of powder. The dwarf reeled backward, coughing and trying to wave the mist away, but not before it settled into his hair and beard.

“Ach! Not the beard! You evil trollop, you’ve gone too far!” he roared, fruitlessly trying to comb the dust out of his facial hair with his fingers. The glitter was actually slightly luminous; it made him look fancy in the extreme, despite his rough leather clothing.

“Oh, stop your bellyaching, you’re much improved,” Radivass said sweetly, waggling her fingers flirtatiously at him. “Don’t you think so, kids?”

Fengir answered only with a barrage of curses.

“Sooo,” Ruda said, “you’re Scyllithene, then?”

The drow snorted. “The hell I am. Can you imagine what life is like under the cult of a goddess of cruelty?”

“I think I can,” Gabriel murmured.

“I guarantee you can’t,” she said firmly, “and consider yourself better off. I can’t say I’ve ever had much use for Themynra, either, and so…” Radivass spread her arms, grinning. “Here I am. Even right under the looming shadow of the Arachne herself, this is a much better life than anything the deep depths have to offer. But enough about me! Let’s talk about you kids. I do hope you’re not thinking of heading down into the Crawl without having your gear properly augmented!”

“We don’t…exactly…have any gear,” Toby said hesitantly. “Professor Tellwyrn sort of dropped us in here unprepared. I think we’re supposed to find equipment as we go.”

“Oh!” said Fross. “That’s not quite true; we don’t have good gear yet, but we got a pair of corduroy pants, a very serviceable robe with a light defensive enchantment, a rusty dagger and Gabriel’s wand!”

“Hmm, I don’t work with energy weapons,” Radivass mused. “Adding charms to them tends to muck them up. Well, you just wait till you find some good stuff down there, kids. Come to me with anything you fish out of the Descent and I’ll get it into the best possible shape for you, guaranteed. What of you two girls?” she added, grinning at Ruda and then Trissiny. “I see you’re already armed, and quite well! It can always be better, though, eh?”

“Not really,” said Trissiny. “My sword and shield are holy relics; I don’t think they’ll take enchantments, and I know they don’t need them.”

“Ah,” the drow said, her face falling. She turned hopefully to Ruda.

“Mithril,” the pirate said with a grin, patting the jeweled hilt of her rapier. “Not enchantable.”

“Rats,” Radivass said, slumping. “It’s such a slow week… Well, you remember what I said, kids. A little enchantment makes all the difference!”

“We will,” Gabriel promised.

They filed past her, glancing at Fengir the dwarf and deciding by silent consensus not to approach him. For one thing, it wasn’t obvious what business he was in; his entire area was bedecked with what appeared to be scrap metal. For another, he had his back to them, rummaging in a chest and cursing furiously.

“Well, look who’s back,” said Shamlin cheerfully, entering his store space from the curtained doorway behind it. “And nobody died! Bravo!”

“Aren’t we amusing,” Ruda sneered. “That how you talk to all your potential customers, twinkletoes?”

“It is when I have an absolute monopoly,” he said cheerfully, leaning on his counter. “So how’d it go, kids? Did you get far?”

“Down to Level 7, and we decided that was a good place for a break,” said Teal.

“Oh? Not bad, for a first day! You might actually get all the way to the bottom if you keep up that pace. If, that is, you decide we can do business.” Grinning, he reached into one of his pockets and produced the blue waystone. “Just wait until you’re at Level 20 or so. All that hiking, half of it stairs… You’ll get to where you spend half of each day just reaching your next un-cleared level. To say nothing of all the mazes, pit traps and jumping puzzles to navigate each time. By the time you get down to your destination you’ll be completely worn out.”

“We’re covered, thanks,” Gabriel said smugly, elbowing Teal.

“There’s…no need to be rude,” she hedged.

Shamlin raised his eyebrows. “What’s all this, now?”

With a sigh, Teal reached into her own coat pocket, pulling out the black stone, and held it up for him to see.

The map vendor stared at this for a moment, a rapid sequence of emotions flickering across his face. Surprise, comprehension, disappointment, and finally, oddly enough, laughter. He plopped down onto his stool, chuckling merrily. “Why, Melaxyna, you delightful minx. She finally got her baerzurg properly motivated, I see. Well, how about them apples! I’m surprised your paladin let you buy that.”

“Mel’s price beat the hell out of yours,” Ruda said smugly.

“And they don’t do what I suggest, as a rule,” Trissiny added. “Otherwise, our grade on our first-semester field exam would have been a lot better.”

“Ah, well, so it goes,” Shamlin said cheerfully. “So, you stopped on Level 7, then. What was down there that turned you back? Odds are I’m exactly the man to point you through it.”

“Hang on,” said Toby. “If you know the way through the Descent’s challenges, how come you don’t know what’s on Level 7?”

“Because that depends on you,” he replied, grinning. “Only the shroom glade and Level 2 and constants. Below that, you’re getting whatever the Crawl things is the appropriate test for your party’s skills. Hence my curiosity.”

“Huh,” Toby mused. “That…explains some stuff.”

“Like what?” Ruda demanded.

“I thought our trip thus far was awfully heavy on puzzles,” Toby said. “The way the Descent was described, I envisioned a lot more fighting. Anyhow, our Level 7 was a big chessboard, with the Circle of Interaction inscribed in the center.”

“It was no chess game like I’ve ever played, either,” Gabe added. “The pieces are freakin’ huge, and they all just charge when you set foot on the floor.”

Shamlin straightened up, his amused expression vanishing. “…you got the Circle Chessboard on Level 7?”

“Is that…unusual?” Fross asked hesitantly.

“That’s… Groups usually see that about thirty levels down.” He eyed them all over carefully, with new respect. “Just who are you kids?”

“We’re the goddamn bee’s pajamas, and don’t you forget it,” Ruda crowed.

Trissiny gave her a long-suffering look before turning back to Shamlin. “In any case… How do you get past the chessboard? It looked like a straightforward combat test, but I don’t see how anyone is supposed to fight off thirty-two giant stone enemies.”

“Oh, well, then, we’re talking business,” Shamlin said, his grin returning. “That kind of information is valuable, my friends. ‘Valuable,’ in this case, meaning ‘not free.’”

Ruda snorted loudly, but Teal pushed forward.

“I have a question about a different puzzle, then,” she said. “One we got through, but sort of…the wrong way. By brute force.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “So you’re curious how you were supposed to solve it, but since you’re past it you don’t care to pay money for the info.”

“More or less. If that’s not okay, it’s fine, it’s just idle curiosity.”

“Hmmm.” He made a show of stroking his chin thoughtfully. “A suspicious person might accuse you of using this ploy to get free intel on how to get through a puzzle that stumped you.”

“How could we be stumped on two puzzles?” Ruda demanded. “The Descent is sequential.”

“Well, if it were a good little con, you’d tell me about a red herring puzzle in order to get the freebie on the one you really cared about,” he said, grinning up at her. “Are any of you, by chance, Eserites?”

“No,” Trissiny said flatly.

“Relax, I’m mostly pulling your leg,” Shamlin said. “Sure, I don’t mind indulging your curiosity. If nothing else, our business relationship can only benefit from proof I know what I’m talking about. Which one did you plow through?”

“It had a marble floor,” said Teal, “with a mosaic of music bars, leading between these big knots…”

“Ah, yes, Musical Tangles,” he said, nodding. “Any party that has a bard in it gets that one. In fact, rare is the party that gets it right; it’s designed to trip bards up. You see, most of the knots have a song progressing out from them that matches the one that went in; where everyone goes wrong is in thinking you can navigate it one step at a time. You have to plan your route out all the way from the door to the other door, which means following the song the entire distance of its journey before starting. There’s only one safe path; any of the others will trigger a trap. It’s hard because the layout makes it physically difficult to get a good view. You need a spyglass at minimum. A scrying crystal is even better.”

“Or the ability to fly?” Ruda suggested, grinning hugely at Teal, who hunched her shoulders in embarrassment.

“Well, that’s pretty fucked up,” Gabriel said, frowning deeply. “Most bards aren’t as durable as ours. If they all trip the traps…that sounds like a deliberate bard-killer.”

Shamlin snorted. “Oh, Musical Tangles always comes up early in the Descent. None of the traps are particularly lethal, just intended to make a bard think carefully before acting.”

“Not lethal?” Toby said incredulously. “It dropped a giant pillar of stone on her!”

Shamlin’s grin faded again; he studied Teal carefully. “It…looks like she got better, then.”

“That was just the beginning,” Gabriel added. “Man, the traps in that room would’ve cut down a Silver Legion. Uh, sorry, Triss.”

“I don’t appreciate the comparison,” she said grudgingly, “but I suspect it’s an accurate one.”

“Are you…” Shamlin was frowning at them now. “Okay, seriously. Who the hell are you kids?”

“Never mind that,” Trissiny said curtly, fishing in her belt pouch. She pulled out a gold doubloon and set it down firmly on the counter. “Where can we find a large, flat, relatively clear space to practice?”

“Practice what, exactly?” Shamlin asked, eying the gold with interest.

“Maneuvers.” Keeping one finger pinning the coin to the wood, she half-turned to face her classmates. “Let’s be honest, our one fighting level was a mess. If that had been anything more serious than pigs, we would have had injuries at minimum. This has been a problem for this group since the Golden Sea; for all that many of us are individually powerful, we’re terrible at fighting as a unit. No teamwork, no strategy. If we’re going to make any real progress in a combat situation, we need to work on that. Any argument?”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Ruda grumbled. “Only you could create homework in a dungeon, Boots.”

“No argument,” Toby said firmly. “Triss is right, guys. I really don’t like the thought of fighting, but in honesty I like the thought of someone getting hurt a lot less. We need to work on this. Before we have to face off against giant chess pieces. Or anything else.”

“Well,” Shamlin drawled, “the Crawl isn’t named such because it has an abundance of open space. There’s the main cavern outside…”

“Which has no fucking floor,” Ruda exclaimed.

“And there are the empty rooms in the uppermost levels, near the exit.”

Juniper groaned. “Got anything that doesn’t involve a giant number of stairs?”

“Well, then,” Shamlin said brightly, “there’s the fact that the Descent will be stable once you’re in it. Each floor is the same floor on every visit, and each one you’ve cleared will stay cleared, at least until you get to Level 100 and beat the last boss. Those rooms are the largest and flattest you’ll find in the Crawl, without going to the goblin or naga towns.”

“Hm.” Trissiny kept a finger on the doubloon, still turned to look at the others. “The mushroom forest didn’t have much open space…nor the boar level. Too obstructed.”

“Two others didn’t have floors,” added Gabriel. “And the musical level was flattish, but… The floor there is either trapped or torn the hell up.”

“Sounds like the only flat, open space we’ve found is the chess level,” Toby said with a sigh.

“And as for that,” Shamlin said cheerily, “yon doubloon’ll buy you the secret to the puzzle, as well as two others, because I’m feeling generous.”

Trissiny glanced around at the others, then finally lifted her finger. “Deal.”


 

Enjoying The Gods are Bastards?  Then please take a moment to lend your support by voting at TopWebFiction!

If you have a little more time, you can also post a review at WebFictionGuide!  Or, if writing reviews isn’t your thing, simply leave a rating!

My thanks to everyone who reads this–you are what makes it worthwhile for me.

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                          Next Chapter >

6 – 12

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

“Oh, what the fuck now,” Ruda grumbled as they clustered onto the only piece of land on Level 4 that could support them.

A few feet beyond the uneven peninsula of stone protruding from the base of the stairs, the floor disappeared. There was no more level ground until the distantly visible patch of land in front of the opposite stairs down to Level 5; right in front of them, everything dropped away into fathomless darkness.

“So…” Gabriel said slowly. “Could we…jump down somehow and skip the level?” Very carefully, he craned his neck forward to peer as far below as he could without getting within a few feet of the edge.

“Subjective physics!” Fross exclaimed, flittering about their feet for once to study the edges of the outcropping. “Only the stairs will lead to Level 5. This here is probably bottomless. Careful not to fall off.”

“Y’don’t fucking say,” Ruda muttered.

“I think I see what they want us to do,” Toby said slowly, “and for the record I’m against it.”

Though there was no floor, the ceiling was in the usual place, and from it hung stalactites of various sizes—rather thickly, in fact, to the point that most of the far walls were not visible. The only wide open space was straight down the center of the chamber, giving them a clear view of the door opposite. Some of the stalactites were merely tapering columns of rock, but the majority had outgrowths at some point along their lengths, creating various small platforms sticking to their sides.

“It’s a jumping puzzle!” Fross said excitedly. “You have to be nimble and find a route across!”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Ruda said.

“Seems kind of dangerous,” Gabriel noted, still peering into the bottomlessness of the chamber.

“I’m very sure that was the point,” said Juniper, then added under her breath, “Dryads are not made for jumping.”

“What’re those?” Teal asked, pointing. The group turned to follow her hand, fixing their attention on a small swarm of specks buzzing around a pillar in the near distance.

“There are more over there,” Gabe said, pointing in the opposite direction. “And there… Actually there are several groups. They kinda look like birds from here.”

“Oh!” Fross bounced up and down in excitement. “Oh, I know what those are! They’re written about in all the books! Gosh, this is really nifty, you never see these on the surface anymore, they’re basically endemic to dungeons, though the Imperial Zoological Garden in Tiraas used to have a swarm. Those are micro-hivemind chiropterids!”

“Which means…what?” Gabriel asked.

“They’re carnivorous, but not big enough to bring down prey on their own, especially considering they go for larger animals. They swarm around a small area just like clouds of gnats,” Fross continued, buzzing furiously around herself as if to demonstrate, “usually near ledges, and when a prey animal comes too close they all attack! They’re not strong enough to kill most things, but they distract them and knock them off and then eat the remains! The Heroes’ Guild and the Bardic College had another name for them, actually…”

“Goddamn bats,” said Teal, grimacing.

“Fuck those and fuck this,” Ruda said, sitting down and folding her arms. “I don’t do heights. Or fucking bats.”

“Goddamn bats,” Fross corrected.

“Want to quit?” Trissiny asked.

Everyone fell silent, turning to look at her. She had stood apart, arms crossed over her breastplate, studying the room while the others talked. Now she turned to stare challengingly at them. “Really, I’m asking. We don’t strictly have to get the swords for Tellwyrn. Apparently there’s lots of loot in various parts of the Crawl and we’re graded on overall performance. Running away from the first major challenge we face is probably not going to help with that, but the option is there. Lots of options are there. We could spend the whole three weeks sitting in the Grim Visage eating mushroom stew if we want. Personally, I’m not much concerned with grades, so…if you all want to take one look at the first truly dangerous thing we meet on our first day and turn tail, we can put it to a vote.”

“Fuck,” Ruda snarled, dragging a bottle out of her coat and clawing at the stopper. “Fuck, fuck fuckfuckfuck.”

“Anyone?” Trissiny prompted. The others exchanged a round of glances, but nobody took her up on the offer. She nodded, turning back to face out at the bottomless chamber. “All right. I see two platforms close enough to jump to from here: there, and there. Odds are one leads to nothing but dead ends. I suggest using our fliers to scout ahead and find a workable route for us. Two main paths, so Vadrieny and Fross can split up from here. And we need a plan to address those…bats. Shaeine, can you contain a swarm within a shield?”

“I have never used one in that manner,” the drow said slowly, “but I see no reason it would not work. Attempting that maneuver while negotiating the jumps will be tricky for several reasons. In the first place, I will have to get close enough to obtain a clear view without provoking them to attack…”

“Excuse me,” said Fross, “I know you’re good with tactics, Trissiny, but I think I have a better idea?”

“By all means,” Trissiny said, nodding to her.

“Okay, well first of all…be right back.”

She darted off into open space heading directly for the nearest swarm of bats. They diverted course at her approach, heading right for the oncoming pixie.

“What is she doing?” Gabriel breathed. “She’s bite-sized, even to them!”

However, as the bats descended on her, Fross emitted a tiny sparkle and a puff of mist, and the entire swarm suddenly went still and plummeted from the air, vanishing into the depths below.

“…huh,” Teal mused.

They watched while Fross zipped back and forth across the chamber, flying right up to each swarm of bats and wiping them out with tiny bursts of what seemed to be fog. At one point she vanished for a few moments, apparently dealing with a swarm hidden from them behind the stalactite forest. After only a couple of minutes, she came fluttering back to the group, chiming smugly.

“Okay, how did you do that?” Ruda demanded.

“Well, goddamn bats are strictly aerodynamic, y’know? I mean, some things fly using magic, like me and Vadrieny for example. But they just use physics, wings and air currents.”

“So?” the pirate prompted.

Fross whirled around her head once. “So, it’s pretty much impossible for fliers to fly with their wings iced over! We might not wanna waste any time, though. We don’t know what kind of respawning protocol the Descent has. It’d be awkward if another swarm popped up on us while we’re crossing. Now then! Hang on, I’m gonna try something else.”

So saying, she darted off again, heading straight for the nearest pillar. The pixie whirled around it once, coating it in a layer of frost, then headed back toward them more slowly, laying down more ice as she went. While the others watched, fascinated, she added more and more, gradually creating a horizontal protrusion which lengthened outward until it touched the platform on which they stood. Fross made passes back and forth, adding more ice with each one until it formed a frighteningly narrow but serviceable footbridge.

“I did not know you could do that,” Teal said in awe.

“I can’t!” Fross replied cheerfully. “Well, I mean, not laying down that quantity of ice. That’d be crazy, it’s a lot of mass. But Professor Yornhaldt was kind enough to open an elemental gate for me to conjure a quantity of pure water, which I’ve stored away in my aura for situations like this!”

“Is all our pork and other supplies sloshing around in that?” Gabriel asked suspiciously.

“Don’t be absurd, Gabe. Aura-tuned pocket dimensions don’t work like that; it’s not a static charm on a bag of holding. Every item is suspended separately and completely preserved in time!”

“How much carrying capacity do you have?” Toby asked, fascinated.

“I think… All of it? I mean, it’s limited only by my access to magical power. I’m a pixie; there’s only so much I can pull through at once, but in theory I should never run out.”

“Okay, I like the basics of this idea,” said Trissiny, “but I can see two problems with it. One, that is already starting to melt, and two, ice is heavy. If you put down enough to build bridges all the way across this chamber, it’s likely to pull down the pillars supporting them, and part of the ceiling as well.”

“Hmm,” Fross mused, drifting aimlessly in thought. “There are arcane charms that can compensate for both of those, but… It’s gonna be rather difficult applying those while using elemental magic. In a possibly explodey kind of way. Arcane and fae magic don’t mix.”

“You’re made of fae magic and do arcane magic,” Juniper pointed out.

“Yes, but, um… I’m not sure how. Professor Tellwyrn and Professor Yornhaldt aren’t sure how, either. Apparently I’m an…anomaly? But yeah, using both kinds of spells at once is asking for a bad reaction.”

“Now, hang on,” said Gabriel. “Fross, I know you use elemental magic to make the ice, but once made, is it magical? Or is it just ice?”

“The magic’s pretty much over with once I’ve applied the cold,” she said. “After that, it’s just—oh, shoot.”

The bridge had been steaming and dripping heavily in the warm air, and finally collapsed, chunks of ice plummeting down into the darkness.

“All right, then!” Grinning, he pulled a small book with an unmarked dark blue cover from within his coat, followed by a pen and bottle of ink, and finally a sheaf of yellowish papers bound in twine. “Luckily, you’re not the only arcanist here. This calls for a little basic enchanting work! I can inscribe featherweight charms and cold-preserving charms; if we put them in the ice as you’re laying it down, that oughtta preserve the bridges as you make them.”

“Hey, you’re right! That’s a great idea!” Fross buzzed around him in delighted circles while he sat down, laying out his scribing tools and flipping through the book for the right diagrams.

“Sounds like a workable plan, then,” Trissiny said slowly. “With all respect to you both, I’ll want to see this tested before we trust our weight to it.”

“Of course,” Gabe said distractedly, holding charm book open and beginning to ink out a glyph on a sheet of paper. His ink was purple and faintly evanescent when Fross’s light passed over it. “The only thing is, this is gonna make the bridges really cold. Like, colder than ice normally is. It won’t be a comfortable trip; we probably won’t want to dawdle.”

“Great,” Ruda said sourly.


 

“Rusty chain mail shirt,” Teal reported, “rusty dagger, handful of copper pennies, and…buttons?” She stood, dusting off her hands and stepping back from the chest. “You know, I almost think we’re better off leaving this stuff in the box. It’s nothing but a waste of carrying capacity.”

“You don’t think that’ll insult the Crawl?” Juniper asked uncertainly.

“I am pretty sure the Crawl just insulted us,” Ruda snorted. She was pressed against the wall just under the glowing sign identifying the route down to Level 5, and still had her hands tucked into the sleeves of her coat for warmth. All of them were shivering, in fact, except Juniper. Behind them, the ice bridges hung over the abyss, not even beginning to melt in the warm air, but surrounded by a fog of condensation. Gabriel’s inscribed charms had done their work well.

“Take the pennies, at least,” said Trissiny. “Money is money, and we will need to re-supply at the vendors in either the Visage or Level 2. Preferably without going into debt with Ruda.”

“Hah!” The pirate grinned at her. “Might wanna rethink your financial strategy. The First Bank of Ruda accepts interest payments in booze and sexual favors! Can’t beat that.”

“Come on, guys,” Toby urged, gently shooing them toward the stairwell. “Let’s get away from all this cold and risk of falling.”

It was a short trip down the stairs, and a slightly damp one, with several of them brushing condensed frost off their clothes as it turned to moisture. At least the warm air quickly stopped their shivering once they left the magical ice behind them. The group straggled to a stop at the bottom of the stairwell, this time not stepping out into Level 5, but clustering on the lowest steps and uncertainly studying their next challenge.

The level was a large and completely empty room. This was the first time they’d had a completely unobstructed view of any of the Descent’s levels; it looked about the same size as the others, making it a little more than half again the size of the University’s dining hall. Big enough to host a variety of challenges, in other words, but not oppressively huge.

What Level 5 did have was a sprawling and rather beautiful mosaic pattern inscribed on its floor. Set down in black, gold and red against white tile, it consisted of lines of five bars which unspooled this way and that like casually thrown lengths of ribbon, marked with a variety of familiar sigils.

“This isn’t my area of expertise,” Trissiny said. “Teal, isn’t that musical notation?”

“It is,” Teal replied with barely-repressed excitement in her voice. “Or at least, it would be if the lines were all straight. It’s a little hard to make out what the melody is on some of those bends…”

“You can read that?” Gabe asked incredulously.

“Well, I am a bard! Kinda wish I’d brought an instrument… But it’s a pleasing little tune.” She began to hum. It was a soft, wistful melody.

“Pretty,” Fross whispered. Toby nodded, smiling; around them, the others began to physically relax, several developing rather spacey grins. With the exception of Juniper, who frowned, staring at her classmates in puzzlement.

“Teal,” Shaeine said quietly, “Vadrieny’s voice is coming through.”

Teal instantly stopped humming, looking stricken. The others straightened immediately, Ruda shaking her head momentarily as if to throw off a trance.

“Oh, gods, I’m sorry,” Teal said. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that… It just happens sometimes. Are you all okay?”

“That…actually was rather refreshing,” Trissiny admitted. “Kindly be careful, though.”

“Right. Yes. Again, sorry. Vadrieny has some voice magic; when she’s fully out, she’s fully in control, but there’s sometimes a little leakage when I sing… That’s why I prefer instruments.”

“It’s okay,” Toby said, reaching out to squeeze her upper arm. “Things happen, no harm was done. With regard to the present… What do you think is the significance of the patterns on the floor?”

“It’s pretty obviously a puzzle of some kind,” said Gabriel. “I think we better let Teal lead the way on this one. Unless anyone else can read music?”

“I can,” said Ruda. She frowned at the incredulous stares of the others. “Oh, fuck you guys, some of us had an education before coming here. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not any kind of musician, though. I agree: this is Teal’s department.”

“Well…I think it’s fairly simple,” said Teal, stepping gingerly down onto the floor. Right at the base of the stairwell was a swirling knot of lines, from which rippling streamers of notation spread out in several directions. “You have to find and follow the melody. It’s not the same tune on each set of lines, see? Now, that one is obviously a trap.” She pointed at the lines aiming most directly for the opposite door. “The harmonies are in a completely different key; it’d be a jangled mess if you played it.”

“I think I get it,” said Gabe, craning his neck around Ruda to watch. “At each nexus, you have to follow the same song that brought you to that one, right?”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” the bard said, nodding. “Which means… This requires a little forethought. All the songs aren’t going to be equally valid… I suspect there’s only one safe path across.”

“Be careful,” Shaeine urged.

Teal gave her a smile. “Don’t worry, I will be. All right, I’m going to follow this one—it’s the song I was humming, and I think I can see the continuation of it spooling out from the next nexus. Hard to get a good view from over here. Stand by.”

She set off along one wavering thread of musical notation, carefully placing her feet only on the marked lines, and came to a stop at the next point where multiple lines intersected in a big swirling knot, ahead and somewhat to their right.

“Should we follow?” Trissiny asked.

“Hang on, it’s better if I figure out the path first,” said Teal. “This is going to require careful stepping anyway; the less backtracking we have to do, the better. All right, let’s see…”

She stepped out along another thread of music, her classmates watching in tense silence. This path led her back to the left, coming to a knot just ahead of them.

“Um…are you sure?” Gabe called out. “That’s right along the path you said was a bad song.”

“It would be a bad song if I followed that path,” Teal replied, keeping her eyes where she placed her bare feet. “But the song I was following continues from here… There, see? Perfectly fine.”

Stepping onto the knot ahead of them, she turned to give her classmates a grin.

Immediately, a huge pillar of stone slammed down from above. In the next instant, she was crushed beneath it, leaving them staring at the column.

“Teal!” Shaeine shrieked.

“Stop!” Trissiny barked, holding out her arms to keep the students back as several compulsively surged forward. “More will come down if we trip them! Ruda, find us another path!”

“To where?” the pirate exclaimed. “If we go after her, another’ll just…”

“I think that trap is tripped,” said Fross. “I’m gonna go and—oh.”

The column wobbled as she spoke, then again. Shaeine clutched Trissiny’s outstretched arm, watching with a stricken expression, as its gyrations grew more intense. Then, suddenly, a huge set of claws appeared at its base, an orange glow streaming out from them.

The pillar of stone groaned as it finally tipped over, the deafening crash of its fall echoing throughout the chamber. Vadrieny emerged from a deep, crumbling pit into which she’d been slammed by the impact, her fangs bared in displeasure. Behind her, in the wake of the crash, there came a sharp hiss and a gout of green mist spurted upward from the musical knot onto which the pillar had fallen. The archdemon glanced over at this, then turned, beating her wings furiously. In seconds, the gas had been blown in the opposite direction from the students and dissipated into the air.

“Are you all right?” Shaeine cried.

“I’m fine,” Vadrieny said reassuringly. “Everything’s fine.”

“I said to be careful!”

“Yes, you did,” the demon agreed, “and she was. Look how that worked out. Stay put, I’m going to try this my way.”

So saying, she turned and stalked off straight across the floor, the mosaic crunching beneath her as she deliberately dug her talons into the marble with each step.

The students watched, wincing and grimacing, as Vadrieny plowed into and through a dozen brutal traps. Pieces of the ceiling fell, gusts of gas and flames shot directly over her, blades were flung out from the walls. At one point a net dropped on her from above. She bore all this without complaint and without stopping, though several times she had to slow to dig herself out of rubble or waft her wings and make sure clouds of gas didn’t drift toward the others.

In less than two minutes, she had reached the opposite side of the chamber. Even from that distance, the students clearly saw the cascade of sparkles that lit up as the chest appeared and the glowing sign indicating the path to Level 6 ignited.

Vadrieny stopped, regarded this thoughtfully for a moment, then very deliberately drove her fist right into the sign. Lights sparked and chunks of stone fell from the resulting crater in the wall.

“Stay!” the demon shouted back at them as Trissiny carefully lowered one boot to the floor. “I don’t trust this place. In fact, all of you back up.”

So saying, she stepped off to the side and came back toward them through a fresh stretch of floor unmarred by her own passing, and into another round of traps.

Vadrieny wasn’t satisfied until she had made three full trips, clearing a wide highway between the two doors and suffering an unending torrent of fiendishly inventive abuse that would have slaughtered a small army. By the time she was through, the safe path looked very much like the aftermath of a war zone, littered with chunks of masonry, blades, various projectiles, slimy residues of acidic solutions, and even the relatively clear stretches of floor marred by deep rents where she had dug in her talons. She backtracked over this multiple times, making sure every trap in the cleared area was sprung.

“Okay,” Ruda said softly while the demon was making her third pass, “this is none of my business, but I gotta ask. What is it like being in a relationship with somebody who has that in her head?”

“That?” Shaeine said quietly, tearing her eyes from the spectacle of Vadrieny’s rampage and giving the pirate a very cool look.

“Well, I mean…look at her.”

“Indeed, it would be impossible to have any privacy, if Teal and I intended to keep her from our interactions.”

“Um…”

“I am a noblewoman, you know,” Shaeine said with a note of satisfaction, turning back to watch the demon work. “It is hardly beyond precedent for me to have multiple consorts. I am very fortunate that both of mine get along so splendidly and can always be found together. And I would be appreciative, Zaruda, if you would refrain from referring to my lover as that.”

“…duly noted,” said Ruda, looking flummoxed.

“There,” said Vadrieny with satisfaction, rejoining them. “Now it is safe.” She held out one hand; Shaeine placed her slender fingers amid the massive claws, smiling, and allowed the demon to help her down to the floor. The other students watched as they began crossing, Vadrieny keeping one burning wing arched protectively over the priestess.

“Welp,” said Gabriel, pushing past Ruda to follow. “I guess that’s one way to do it. C’mon, guys.”

In moments they were clustering around the opposite door. This time it was Ruda who opened the chest. For a few seconds, they all stood around, staring into it.

“Well,” Ruda said finally. “We just won ourselves a box of coal.”

“Is that really coal?” Gabe asked, craning his neck to peer forward.

Toby bent down to pick up a piece. “Sure looks like it.”

“I know the upper-level rewards are supposed to be kinda lame,” said Fross uncertainly, “but…they’re supposed to get better as we descend. Does it seem to anyone else like they’re getting worse?”

“Maybe we haven’t descended far enough?” Juniper suggested.

“There’s really only one way to find out,” said Trissiny, stepping forward into the stairwell. “Fross… I have a hunch. Could you gather up the coal, please? It might be significant later.”

“Sure thing!”

“Or it might just be the Crawl telling us to go screw ourselves,” Ruda remarked.

“Maybe.” Trissiny was already halfway down the stairs, forcing the others to follow in order to hear her. “But I suspect there’s a specific use for something that oddly specific later. And if not, we can sell it. It stands to reason that burnable fuel is quite valuable in the Crawl.”

Level 6 was somewhat familiar at first glance, in that it opened from the access stairs onto a platform that extended a short way into a floorless chamber. Unlike Level 4, however, this one was full of fire. Flames roared up from an unseen source below, licking at the base of the platform and filling the chamber with heat and orange light. They could see a matching platform directly across the way, with nothing between the two but a vast sea of fire.

“Seems like it should be hotter in here than it is,” Gabriel noted. He wiped sweat from his forehead with his sleeve as he said it, but indeed, it was merely uncomfortably warm, nothing like the temperature should have been in what appeared to be some kind of furnace.

“Well, what the fuck are we supposed to do with this?” Ruda demanded.

“Look!” said Fross. “I mean, look closely. See the pattern in the flames?”

“What pattern?”

“I see it,” said Trissiny, frowning. “It’s…angular. Wait, it’s not a pattern in the flames. It’s something that’s blocking them.”

“Yes!” The pixie buzzed around excitedly. “Look, it’s a path!”

“I see it, now,” said Toby, squinting as he studied the scene before them. “It’s hard to make out in spots, you can only see it where the fire is blocked by it. It’s like…glass?”

“Not glass,” said Trissiny. “That would shine. It’s just…invisible. An invisible path over the lake of fire.”

“Not a path,” said Juniper. “Lots of paths.”

“Oh my fucking fuck,” Ruda groaned. “It’s an invisible fucking maze. I fucking hate this place.”

Trissiny rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Gabriel…would those cold charms of yours support an ice bridge over a lake of fire?”

“I really don’t think so. They’re actually designed to preserve food, not to compete with a heat source like that.”

“Wait, what about that?” Teal suggested, turning to point above them. Following her finger, they all craned their heads back, discovering that unlike previous levels, Level 6 had no ceiling. What it did have were decorative columns on either side of the door, stretching upward about twenty feet.

“What about it?” Ruda demanded.

“It doesn’t look like they’re set into the ground,” said Teal. “And they’re not connected to the wall… I think they’re just sitting there. The round surface isn’t ideal, but the way it’s carved, there should be some footing at least…”

“A bridge?” said Trissiny, smiling. “Excellent idea.”

“Neither of those is gonna get all the way across this,” Ruda said.

“But it’s a start,” Toby replied. “And I agree: it’s a good idea. Every bit of this we can skip is a good thing if you ask me. Vadrieny and Juniper should be strong enough to knock those over, right?”

“The tricky thing is leverage,” said Juniper, frowning at the columns. “They’re close to the wall, even if they’re not connected… No good place to stand and push.”

“Stop,” Gabriel said suddenly. “This is a trap.”

They all turned to look at him.

“What makes you say so?” Trissiny asked.

“I see a pattern here,” he said. “Guys…think back. Remember what the demons on Level 2 told us? The Crawl does not like people who cheat.”

“So?” Ruda snorted. “We’ve cheated practically every level and oh, holy shit, you’re right.”

He nodded. “Even discounting Level 2, we’ve been through four levels now and only actually did the challenge once. Juniper got us through the caplings, Fross and I managed to skip the obstacle course and Vadrieny brute-forced what was supposed to be a puzzle. And what about the chest rewards? The first one was sort of lame, the next one on a level we cheated on was even lamer, and then coal. I think the box of coal was a final warning.”

“Wait,” said Ruda, “what’d we get on the boar level?”

“We didn’t stop to open the chest,” said Toby. “We were following…um.” He trailed off, glancing over at Trissiny, who remained impassive.

“Oh! I did!” said Fross. “It was better than Level 1, we got some silver, a very nice silk robe with a low-caliber defensive enchantment and an Avenic-style short sword! I stashed them away to show you guys later. Nobody seemed to be in a talking mood.”

“Right,” said Gabe. “So, after all that, here we are being practically offered a way to cheat, in exactly the way we have been, using brute force to bypass what’s supposed to be an intellectual exercise. I don’t know what’ll happen if we tip those columns, but I’ve got a feeling it’ll be really ugly.”

“Rocks fall,” Juniper whispered, “everyone dies.”

“The reasoning seems rather…thin,” Trissiny said, frowning.

“Okay, well, just…humor me, all right?” Gabe said, glancing around nervously. “This isn’t even a hugely hard one, it’s just…scary. We can do a maze. We’ve got Fross to scout ahead, and we can take the time to place our feet carefully. I say we do this one the way it’s supposed to be done. All right?”

“I agree,” Toby said, nodding slowly. “Everyone we’ve met has said the Crawl is intelligent. Professor Ezzaniel implied it likes to test people.”

“When you put it that way,” Trissiny said somewhat grudgingly, “it makes good sense. Better safe than sorry.”

“Guys,” said Juniper, “look.”

They all turned, following her gaze, to find that the flames had diminished. As they watched, the fire burned steadily lower, finally vanishing entirely. Below was another fathomless fall into dark nothingness.

“…message received,” said Teal.

“Great,” Ruda grumbled. “Now we can’t see the path at all.”

“Yes,” said Gabe with a grin, “but at least we can walk on it.”

“Oh!” Fross whizzed out over the empty space, emitting a puff of frigid mist. Frost settled over a hitherto invisible stretch of walkway, making it stand out from the darkness.

“Well, that’s something,” said Ruda. “You got any tricks that’ll show us where it is without making it too slippery to be safe?”

“Oh,” the pixie said, her glow dimming. “I didn’t think of that. Sorry.”

“Well,” said Teal with a smile, “how about throwing something onto it?”

“Like what?” Toby asked. “We don’t have all that much in the way of supplies…”

“We have coal,” said Shaeine.


 

Getting across took them easily over half an hour, though they weren’t timing it. It was exhaustingly nerve-wracking, even with Fross scattering coal to indicate what could safely be stepped on; none of them ever got used to the sight of their feet firmly planted on midair. Juniper in particular grew progressively more tense until she was actually whimpering, and had to be comforted by Gabriel for a few minutes before she could make herself continue. Teal shifted, letting her winged counterpart take over, and stayed right behind Shaeine the entire way, ready to grab the drow if she should slip.

Moving carefully, though, none of them fell. They had to backtrack multiple times, as even with the coal to put down on the path, it was still a maze, and a complex one. There were actually points where they could have gotten from one stretch of path to another by jumping, and thus bypass switchbacks and dead ends, but none of them managed to work up the nerve to try it.

Eventually, though, they found their way through, and landed safely on the platform by the stairs. Upon their arrival, the sign for Level 7 ignited and the chest appeared. Everyone ignored this; by unspoken consent, they all sat down on the blessedly solid stone, as far from the edges as they could get.

“I fucking hate heights,” Ruda mumbled.

“I never knew that,” Trissiny said with a smile. “You’ve always seemed fine with Clarke Tower.”

“Lemme rephrase that.” She pulled out a bottle of whiskey and took a swig. “I hate heights now. This place has persuaded me that heights fucking suck.”

Teal let out a relieved breath, climbing back to her feet. “All right! Well, we might as well see what we’ve won.” Turning, she knelt to open the chest.

There was only one thing within. Frowning, Teal pulled out a small rectangular box. “…huh.”

“Maybe you got some replacement shoes,” Ruda said, grinning.

“Well, we’ll find out if you open it,” Toby suggested.

Teal flicked the clasp open with her thumbs and lifted the lid. She stared at the box’s contents for a moment, then grinned. “Gabe, I think this is for you.”

He accepted the box from her, frowning quizzically and turning it so the open side faced him. Within it was a wand.

“Ooh,” said Juniper, craning her neck to peer at it.

“Is that…a good one?” Trissiny asked.

“Good?” Gently, he lifted the weapon out, setting the box aside. “Angled grip, alchemically hardened ebony shaft, double-sized crystal housing with extra glyphs for self-recharge… This, ladies and gentlemen, is a damn fine piece of firepower.”

“So,” Ruda said, scowling around the room, “looks like you made a friend. Wonder if I can get an upgrade by sucking up to the Crawl.”

“I think there is, indeed, a lesson here,” said Trissiny. “We may want to bypass some future levels if we can find a way to, but…let’s consider that a method of last resort.”

“You wanna just…knuckle under?” Ruda said disdainfully. “I do not like this fucking place telling me what to do.”

“It’s another variable, is all,” said Gabriel, still studying his new wand. “The Crawl is watching, and we have a general idea how it thinks, now. I’m not saying we shouldn’t do things our way, but… Its perspective is something we need to consider when making decisions.”

Ruda drew in a deep breath and blew it out in a huff, then climbed to her feet. “Duly fucking noted. All right…onward and downward, eh?”

At the base of the next set of stairs was a chessboard. The students gathered on the bottom step again, studying Level 7 carefully without stepping down onto its floor. It was vastly oversized, each of the squares big enough for them to lie down on without touching any of its neighbors, but it was unmistakably a chessboard, and not just because of its checkered pattern. Actual chess pieces were set up along the left and right walls, ready to begin a game. The pawns, the smallest ones, were twice Trissiny’s height and correspondingly thick.

“Think I know what kind of challenge this is,” Gabe said, grinning.

“What’s that pattern in the middle of the floor, there?” Juniper asked, pointing.

Fross buzzed out into the room to get a better look, then came back. “It’s the Circle of Interaction!”

“Huh,” Trissiny said, frowning. “I wonder what the significance of that is.” She stepped down onto the checkerboard.

Instantly, with a deep grinding noise that echoed horribly, every single chess piece pivoted to face her directly.

She froze. “Um…”

They charged.

The chess pieces moved in a series of hops, the crashing of their approach resonating deafeningly in the chamber. It was an ungainly pattern of movement, but given their size, they made terrifyingly good time, rushing straight at her like a herd of monolithic bison.

Trissiny let out a yelp and leaped backward onto the steps. The others, several with screams of their own, backpedaled frantically.

As soon as no one was touching the checkerboard floor, the chess pieces immediately stopped their approach, turning and bounding back into place. In moments they had rearranged themselves in their starting position.

“Okay,” Gabe said in a shaky voice, “I was wrong. I did not know what kind of challenge this is.”

Toby drew in a deep breath. “Does this seem like a good stopping point to anyone else?”

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

6 – 11

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

“Ruda, incoming!”

“I see it!”

Ruda stood en garde while the boar charged her, whipping around it at the last possible second like a matador. She thrust her rapier into its side as she went, eliciting an agonized squeal. The pig staggered and lost its footing, down and thrashing all four hooves, but not dead. At least, not yet; its distraction gave her an opening for a more precise thrust, which took it straight through the heart.

Trissiny grunted as the other boar slammed into the golden corona surrounding her. The shield was holding, and likely would continue to do so. She felt no real strain from it; this was nothing like the wandfire she had taken in Sarasio. Her disadvantage was her height and her short sword. None of the cave boars stood taller than her waist, which meant that while she could stand around all day letting them bounce off her shield, fighting back meant kneeling or bending down—both positions that made it cripplingly awkward to fight.

Fortunately, she and her roommate proved a successful team, standing back-to-back. Trissiny’s shields (metal and magical) kept them protected, while Ruda’s agility, coupled with the long reach of her rapier and her shorter stature, made her an effective attacker.

If only the rest of the group were faring as well.

Level 3 had a smooth and obviously crafted stone floor, but it was littered with spires of volcanic rock, several of which steamed and emitted a sulfurous stench. Some stood alone, but quite a few were arranged conveniently to form barriers, making the chamber a kind of maze. There appeared, at least so far, to be nothing in it but igneous stone and cave boars, but even considering the relatively minor threat, the students had managed to rout themselves by the simple method of not having a strategy.

They had been charged immediately upon stepping foot into the level, and had now been broken up into smaller groups, each fending for themselves. Boars had come galloping in from around boulders and out of small canyons, rushing them from multiple directions and driving them apart. Now, though no one was yet down a crevice and isolated, several of them had gotten out of sight behind various outcroppings of rock.

Trissiny knew Gabriel’s position only because of the flashes of lightning that kept shooting out of it; he had climbed a steep slope and tucked himself into a corner from which he couldn’t be flanked, and was taking potshots at every boar that crossed his field of view. Not a brave tactic, but an effective one; more than half a dozen porcine corpses smoldered at the base of his hill. Toby stood nearby, probably the least effective of the group, protected behind a holy shield but his quarterstaff making no real impression on the four boars that circled, bashing their tusks against his barrier. She couldn’t see Fross at all, but streaks of ice lay all over the place, evidence of the pixie’s helpful efforts to deprive their foes of footing and in some cases freeze their hooves to the ground. This was causing more harm than good in the long run, though. Level 3 was too hot for the ice to hold them more than a few seconds, and the slippery patches were a hazard to the students as much as the cave boars, even as they melted. Vadrieny was out of her field of view, but the demon’s screeches were nearly constant and having their usual effect on the animals. Unfortunately, boars that ran away from her inevitably ended up running toward one of the others, and it seemed they forgot to be frightened as soon as they set their eyes upon a new target.

Ruda sidestepped around her, stabbing the boar that had bashed Trissiny’s shield while it was dazed. For a brief moment, they were not under immediate attack, and took the opportunity to size up the situation.

“What a glorious cock-up this is,” Ruda said flatly. Trissiny nodded agreement.

She half-turned to bring the rest of her classmates into her field of view. Shaeine was doing only slightly better than Toby; though she was unarmed, her skill with magical shields considerably exceeded his or Trissiny’s, and she was using them not only to protect herself but offensively, swatting boars aside and, when she could maneuver them into position, slamming them against the walls with crushing force. She had the leeway to do this because Vadrieny was hovering protectively about her, unleashing that hellish scream on any boar that looked in danger of slipping past her defenses.

Juniper was the only one of them currently on the offensive. None of the animals were attacking her; she was chasing after them. The spectacle was amusing and horrifying by turns; anyone chasing after a pig over rocks and patches of ice was fodder for pratfalls, but when she caught one, her methods were swift and brutal. She was splattered with blood and actually wielding a very fresh haunch of boar as a weapon. Trissiny thought that rather gratuitous, considering the dryad’s strength.

“We gotta get these boneheads into some kind of formation,” Ruda continued. “First one to slip and fall is gonna get gored to fucking shreds.”

Trissiny looked this way and that, thinking rapidly, then dropped to one knee as she was charged. The boar slammed head-on into her glowing shield and staggered to the side, stunned; she slapped it to the ground with her physical shield and stabbed it through the heart.

“I’ve got a plan,” she said, standing. “If I buy you time to get to Vadrieny and Shaeine, think you can persuade her to stop that screaming and actually use those claws? It’s nice that she respects Teal’s pacifism and all, but these are animals. It’s not like we can negotiate them.”

“I’ll see to it she gets the idea,” Ruda replied, grinning. “I am nothing if not silver-tongued.”

“Good. I’m going to go join Gabe and Toby; bring them to us as soon as you can.”

“Right on.” Ruda darted away, and Trissiny set off on a parallel course, first making sure the pirate wasn’t charged by cave boars before she got close enough to Shaeine and Vadrieny to fall under their protection. Only then did she head off to Gabriel’s boulder.

“Toby!” she shouted over the noise of battle around them. He glanced her way, then was immediately thrown off-balance by a boar’s charge and then turned to fend it off with his staff. Trissiny darted past him and kicked the animal hard. It squealed furiously, rounding on her, but before it could attack Trissiny hurled herself forward, coming down to one knee and slamming her shield into its face. A follow-up stab with her sword put it down for good. She stood and turned to find Toby staring at her, wide-eyed.

“Stand there,” she ordered, pointing with her sword at a spot just to the left of the slope leading to Gabriel’s hiding place. “That is your ground. You will hold it!”

“Yes, ma’am!” he said with a grin, dashing over to position himself as ordered. She followed, placing herself to the right of the ascent. She had to step carefully to avoid the multiple dead boars with burn wounds lying about the area.

“What’s happening?” Gabriel called out from above.

“Stay there!” Trissiny shouted up at him. “Keep firing as you get targets!”

His reply came in the form of a lightning bolt that ripped past her, striking down a cave boar that wheeled in their direction with Juniper on its tail. The dryad, skidded, trying to stop, then skidded even harder as her feet came into contact with one of Fross’s ice trails. Trissiny beckoned her urgently over; she rolled back to her feet and limped to the paladin’s side.

“What are we doing?” she asked, then they both had to stop and deal with a pair of charging boars before Trissiny could answer.

As they finished that little problem, by way of Juniper picking one of the creatures up and bludgeoning the other with it, Vadrieny’s screaming stopped. The air was still filled with noise, from squeals, hoofbeats, various crashes and the crackling of Gabriel’s wand, but it still seemed, blessedly, almost silent in the wake of the demon’s vocal magic.

Trissiny immediately took advantage of the quiet. “FROSS! Get over here!”

Almost immediately, the pixie darted across her face to indicate her presence, then rose to hover above Trissiny where her glow didn’t block the paladin’s vision. “I’m here! What’s going on? Please tell me you have a plan, I have no idea what I’m doing!”

“Stop that icing for the moment and disappear these corpses! I need a clear field of battle!”

“Aye-aye, General!” Fross swooped down, rushing thither and yon; everywhere she passed, dead boars shrank down to nothing and floated upward to vanish into her silver aura.

“Can she do that with live ones?” Ruda asked, dashing up to them.

“Not safely!” the pixie shouted as she zipped past.

“Shaeine!” Trissiny called out as the last two members of the party rejoined them, the demon holding one fiery wing protectively over the drow. “Bubble us!”

Immediately a silver semi-sphere snapped into place around the whole group, its shape interrupted where it intersected with outgrowths of rock.

“Thank you,” Trissiny said more quietly. Boars were dashing around the perimeter of the shield, a few butting their heads against it. “How long can you keep this up?”

“Not terribly,” the priestess replied with an audible strain in her voice. “I am unaccustomed to shielding this proactively for such a duration.”

Trissiny glanced at Juniper, thinking back to the Circles of Interaction. “Do you know the magic to convert fae energy into divine to power your shields?”

“I do not.”

“Nor I,” she said regretfully. “I’ll be correcting that the first chance I get, considering we have two basically bottomless power sources in the group that three of us could be using.”

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” Juniper said.

“All right… Can you make two walls to funnel them toward us?”

“Toward us?” Gabriel protested shrilly.

“If they are not actively attacking said walls…yes, I believe so.”

“All right, here’s what we’re going to do,” Trissiny said decisively. “Shaeine will set up angled walls to give the boars a single approach directly at us. Fross, I want you to ice the ground within it to make it hard for them. That means slick floor but also big chunks of ice to break up their momentum; we don’t want them sliding at us too fast to handle.”

“Can do!”

“Gabriel, your job is to shoot them as they come. Ruda, Juniper, you’re on either side on the rocks right there—go on, get into position—and if any get close enough to start climbing the slope, you deal with them in close range. Gabe, that means if a boar gets into melee range, you stop firing. Don’t risk shooting your teammates.”

“Got it,” he said, sticking his head out to nod at her.

“Toby and I will be right in front of you two, blocking access to you—the shield within a shield, so they charge right into Gabe’s field of fire and not at our melee fighters. Toby, you’re on defensive; we don’t strike at the ones coming down the center, but do what you have to to fend off any who try to flank us. I think the rocks are too steep, but be prepared.”

“Understood.”

“Vadrieny, you’re in the field; drive them toward the entrance to the trap.” She glanced around, studying the boars through the silver translucence of the shield. They had stopped pouring out of side chambers, so this was hopefully the final number. She couldn’t get a solid count with the way they were milling around, but there were easily over a dozen. “That means no screaming, that just scatters them. Try to herd them with your claws. And for the gods’ sake, don’t be afraid to actually claw one!”

Vadrieny nodded at her, making no response to the implied rebuke.

“All right,” said Trissiny, glancing quickly over her classmates. Everyone had stepped into the appropriate position as she spoke, Shaeine clambering carefully up to sit just beside Gabriel’s nook, well away from where the action would be. “Fross, get started on that ice. Everyone ready? Good. Shaeine, as soon as you switch the shields, we’re in action.”

“Changing in three…two…one!”

The bubble vanished and two silver walls appeared directly before them, angling outward and forming a trapezoidal space with its narrower end pointing at the ascent to Gabriel’s perch, surrounding the patch of ground now covered with a sheen of frost and littered haphazardly with chunks of ice as much as shoulder-high on the boars. Immediately, several went straight for the group from the side, but Vadrieny landed right in front of them, raking the pack with one clawed hand and sending the animals flying, along with a spray of blood. Her claws were simply too huge to avoid doing some damage with them.

Once in a while, things really did come together.

Once in motion, the plan went off with almost eerie perfection. Vadrieny was bigger than the boars, but also faster and more agile, and after that first rush prevented them from flanking the group again. In fact, she didn’t have to go far to herd them into the trap; they seemed maddened and determined to attack, and so long as she warded them away from the sides of the students’ formation, they charged obligingly right into Fross’s obstacle course, where their slipping and stumbling made them easy fodder for Gabriel’s wand. Trissiny only had to employ her weapon once, when one boar bounded off the corpse of its most recently felled comrade to land halfway up the incline, right beside Ruda and inside the reach of her arm.

It was over in less than half a minute. The final boar made it as far as the base of the little hill before being blasted by lightning. A couple of the larger specimens had needed to be shot twice; Gabriel had all but filled the channel between them with lightning, but had not been overwhelmed. Everyone’s hair was standing up slightly by the time they were done, and the air was heavy with the reek of ozone and charred pork. Shaeine let the glowing walls flicker out of existence, slumping back against the rock with a deep sigh, and the two paladins allowed their own shields to wink out.

“Holy shit, we won!” Ruda crowed. Around her, the group finally let themselves relax, grinning at each other in the sudden silence.

The noise that answered her, echoing around the chamber from a point of their sight, might have been called a squeal if it were about half as powerful; as it was, it was at least half roar. It was immediately followed by the rapidly growing sound of hoofbeats. Much louder ones than any they had heard thus far.

“Yup. That’s my fault,” Ruda said with a sigh.

“Levels have bosses,” Fross said grimly. “Trissiny? What do we do?”

Before Trissiny could answer, it rounded the corner ahead and skidded to a halt, glaring at them.

Cave boars were essentially just pigs—big, aggressive pigs that tended toward pale pigmentation and had larger tusks than usual. This creature was the size of a bison, and the differences between it and its lesser brethren did not stop there. In addition to long, curving tusks bigger than a ram’s horns, it actually had horns, arching upward over its head. It had a mane of what were either very large bristles or rather diminutive spikes, which looked like the difference would be academic for anyone unfortunate enough to come into contact with them. Worse, the thing was armored, with segments of glossy chitin flanking its vulnerable sides.

“I’ve got this,” Juniper said, pushing past Trissiny and sliding down the slope.

“Wait,” Trissiny began, but got no further as the boss boar let out a bellow and charged her.

The dryad stomped forward, slipping once on Fross’s ice before catching her footing, and planted herself directly in the boar’s path. Head high, she held up a hand imperiously at the charging monstrosity.

“Stop right there!”

The boar rammed into her head-on.

The dryad was actually shifted backward by the impact, stumbling slightly before regaining her balance. The boar, not quite felled, nonetheless staggered, shaking its head and huffing in protest.

“It attacked me,” Juniper said, sounding utterly shocked.

“I can’t get a clear shot!” Gabriel said, scrambling out from his perch and leaning around Trissiny. “June, get out of the way!”

“Animals aren’t supposed to attack me!” Juniper exclaimed, offended. “I’m a dryad!”

The boar squeal-roared again, loud enough to make Shaeine wince and clap her hands over her ears. It backed away from Juniper, reddish eyes fixed on her, and pawed at the ground with its front legs.

“Oh, for the—Vadrieny!” Trissiny shouted. “Get her out of there!”

“I can’t touch her,” the archdemon protested.

“You can’t what?”

“BAD PIG!” Juniper roared, stomping forward and landing an open-handed slap against the side of the boar’s head. It was lifted right off its hooves and hurled to the side by the blow.

“…or, we could all wait up here while she deals with that,” Gabriel said in a smaller voice.

The dryad lunged furiously after the boar, grabbing it by its right tusk and left horn, and wrenched it sideways. The creature, squealing in protest, was lifted again and flipped onto its other side, where she leaned down, keeping up the pressure despite its desperate attempts to scrabble free. She didn’t have very good leverage from that position; this went on for a disturbing span of seconds, with the boar’s pained outcries growing steadily more frantic, until its neck finally broke with a sickeningly loud crunch. It kicked a few more times before falling still.

“You don’t attack dryads,” Juniper said severely, standing up and dusting off her hands. Then she kicked it for good measure, flipping it back onto its other side.

“You tell ‘im, Juno!” Ruda called out.

“Or,” Toby said quietly, “we could not encourage that, maybe?”

“I’m sorry,” Trissiny said, turning to Vadrieny. “that was my fault; I wasn’t thinking clearly, apparently.”

“No harm done,” the archdemon replied with a faint smile.

“Wait, what are we talking about now?” Gabriel asked.

“Telling Vadrieny to move Juniper,” Toby explained. “Remember, when the centaurs cornered us in Horsebutt’s tomb? We went over this then; Vadrieny’s physical form is an infernal spell effect, which means touching Juniper would probably just snuff it out.”

“Probably,” Ruda grunted. “It occurs to me we’ve never actually gotten around to testing that.”

The flames dimmed and receded, followed by the claws, and then Teal was standing there, shaking her head. “Juniper’s the daughter of a goddess. However impressive Vadrieny is, I don’t think she ranks with a dryad. I mean…we could try that sometime, just to find out, but…”

“I don’t mind,” Juniper said, rejoining them. “Can we take a break first, though? That was kind of a bit…much.”

“I second that motion,” Gabriel said firmly. “And this might be kind of weird, but uh… Considering we didn’t get to finish our bacon earlier, and with the smell of all this…”

“Yup, that’s fuckin’ weird,” Ruda said, grinning.

“I don’t think it’s weird at all,” Juniper replied, tossing her head. “I’m not really hungry, but seriously—the rest of you haven’t eaten nearly enough today, and we just got a lot of concentrated exercise. There’s probably more up ahead. You should finish your meal.”

“If it’s not too much of an imposition, Fross,” said Toby, “could you please get rid of the rest of these corpses, first? Something about eating surrounded by the dead…”

“No imposition at all!” the pixie said brightly, already setting to work. She continued chattering as she swooped down on each felled boar, shrinking and storing them. “I dunno if there’s any actual treasure here, but considering the socioeconomic situation in the Crawl, a big ol’ pile of pork is a really good haul! Much better than the mushroom level. I mean, aside from the trading value of all this, we’ve basically got our food covered for the whole rest of the trip!”

“I think I’d be okay with that,” said Juniper, “but the rest of you really can’t live on just meat. You need a variety of nutrients from plants.”

“There aren’t any plants,” Gabriel pointed out. “I mean…except mushrooms.”

“Those are fungus, not plants,” the dryad said patiently. “And they’ll go part of the way, sure. Maybe we should check with the vendors back at the Grim Visage. They probably have nutritional supplements. They’re pretty much have to.”

Fross had finished clearing away the boars—even the big one—and now re-materialized their plates of pork chops and bacon from the makeshift inn on Level 2. Gabriel immediately seized a handful of meat, the others following suit more slowly.

“I’m okay with just trading the carcasses,” Ruda said firmly. “Otherwise, we’d have to do all the butchering ourselves, and…just, fuck that, is all. Do you guys remember the bison?” She grimaced. “I remember the bison. Fucking ew. Didn’t the demons up there make a standing offer for meat? It was the little guy with the wings, right?”

“We’ll clearly have to pass through Level 2 regularly, what with their portals and the waystone,” said Trissiny, after swallowing a bite of bacon. “I see no good reason to loiter there one second longer than absolutely necessary.”

“Oh, here we go again,” said Ruda, rolling her eyes.

Trissiny gave her a hard look. “What?”

“No offense, Triss,” Gabriel mumbled around a mouthful of pork, “but…aren’t you backsliding a little?”

She set down the bacon she was holding. “Excuse me?”

“Well, it’s just…” He paused to swallow. “I dunno, it seems like you’ve been opening up a bit as time goes by. Being a bit less hostile to…y’know, things outside the Imperial norm.”

“The Imperial norm,” she said, very evenly.

“Oh, I don’t think we need to make a big deal about it,” Toby said quickly.

“No, no. Please,” Trissiny said quietly. “What’s on your mind, Gabriel?”

“Hell, Boots, it’s not just him,” Ruda interjected. “First day we met you practically drew your sword on Shaeine just ‘cos she was a drow. And then there was that thing with you and Gabe, with all the clawing and stabbing. But you’ve been getting better! Or were, anyway. Then we meet the perfectly nice demons on Level 2, and it’s like you wanted to line ’em up and chop their heads off.”

“Perfectly. Nice. Demons.” Trissiny’s voice was icy.

“Yes,” Ruda said firmly. “They were perfectly nice.”

“They kind of were,” Juniper agreed. “They gave us food! Which you’re eating right now.”

“I don’t think it’s exactly fair to put Trissiny on the spot like this,” said Teal. “You can’t reasonably expect a paladin of Avei to be calm when surrounded by demons.”

“Can’t expect me to be calm,” Trissiny said softly. “How charitable.”

“Oh, come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well, whatever, the point is not to start an inquisition,” said Ruda, gesticulating with the half-eaten pork chop in her hand. “We’re just sayin’, Triss, if we meet any more demons, how about waiting to find out what their intentions are before going for your sword, yeah?”

Trissiny stared at her in silence for a moment, then looked around at the rest of the group. “Is this how you all feel?”

“Let me turn that question around on you,” Toby said quietly. “Why are you averse to learning someone’s motives before assuming they’re hostile?”

“The presumption of innocence is not always warranted,” Shaeine added, “but it is a cornerstone of diplomacy.”

Trissiny stood up slowly. “Do you know how many major invasions of the mortal plane there have been from Hell?”

“Oh, here we go,” Ruda groaned.

“Answer the question,” Trissiny snapped.

“Nine recorded,” Fross said. “We covered that in Professor Tellwyrn’s class!”

“Exactly,” said Trissiny. “Nine. In the span of eight thousand years, with the resources of an entire dimension to draw on, Elilial launched a large-scale armed assault exactly nine times. You don’t find that a little…underwhelming?”

“Uh…I guess?” Gabe said hesitantly. “Is this going somewhere?”

“The first two were by Elilial herself during the first millennium of her incarceration in Hell,” said Trissiny. “The rest mostly over the three thousand years following, at various times, with the aim of establishing various Black Wreath cells in different parts of the world. The most recent, coming thousands of years after those, was sixteen centuries ago, and that was started when the Sorcerer-King Atromax actually bored a massive gateway into Hell. And in none of these cases did Elilial send a large enough army to actually overwhelm the mortal world, but only to accomplish specific, smaller objectives.”

“Well, maybe she doesn’t have all that much manpower,” Ruda suggested.

“Or maybe,” Trissiny shot back, “that’s just not what they do. Will you all please think? One floor up from us is a succubus, who is near the top of the Descent because she’s apparently the second-least threatening thing it has to offer. And yet, we were just discussing the fact that finding an incubus or succubus on the loose is considered a major crisis by modern civilizations. You don’t find a little bit of a disconnect there?”

Gabriel frowned. “Well, now that you mention it…”

“It’s because succubi are not fighters,” Trissiny said. “In an enclosed space, against the eight of us? She’s little more than a pincushion waiting to happen. But up above, where she has freedom to maneuver, resources to access and people to manipulate? Frankly, I don’t think this group could take her on. Her kind have brought down entire kingdoms. Alone. They assuredly didn’t do it by force of arms.”

“Now, hold on,” said Toby.

“You do know what sshitherosz do, I hope?” she barreled on. “They find people in vulnerable positions, people who are outcast, or alone, or for whatever reason weak and needing some kind of support. They coax people into reaching for the power they offer, and lead them into becoming warlocks. That is where the majority of warlocks come from! People who are foolish and power-hungry enough to actually seek out infernal power are vanishingly rare. Those scrawny, ugly, disturbing-looking demons are masters of the art of getting on people’s good sides. You think they do it by brute force?”

She glowered at the group; they all stared back, mutely. Nobody was eating now.

“The demons don’t come for us with rampaging hordes and fire from the skies. They come with pretty faces and kind smiles, with nice words and very reasonable offers of trade. They find common ground, stay polite, act forgiving and fair-minded, and when you give them an inch, they start in with the hints about how unfair it is that they’re so ill-treated just for being what they are. One little step after another, until you’re riddled with cancer because you got suckered into channeling powers your body isn’t designed to contain, and you’ve opened all manner of portals for all their equally harmless friends to come through. All because you stopped to chat with a poor, mistreated, lonely figure who was nice you to, and fair, and reasonable. Does any of this sound extremely familiar to anyone?”

“None of us is going to—” Gabriel broke off as Trissiny carried right on, talking over him.

“Are any of you people actually arrogant enough to think that you’re the first individuals in eight thousand years to have the brilliant idea of trying diplomatic relations with demons? Seriously? It’s been tried. It’s been tried over and over and done to death, often quite literally, and it has always ended up the same. They wiggle in, the persuade, seduce, and corrupt, and when they’ve got enough power to do so, they destroy. That’s why every established nation, religion and organization of any kind immediately greets a demon with outright violence. That’s all you can do. The cults of Omnu, Izara, Themynra, and everyone else who abhors violence doesn’t raise so much as a peep of protest! But no, I guess you know better than the entire world.”

She bared her teeth at them, clenching her fists at her sides; they stared back in numb silence. “After all, it’s just Trissiny spouting off again. Who cares? Trissiny is a hothead, a racist, a stuck-up fanatic. Trissiny is needlessly hostile and always angry about nothing. Well, Trissiny will keep protecting you, no matter how much she might want to let you get tangled up with demons and learn the only way you apparently can.”

She snorted in pure, wordless disgust. “Come on, we’ve wasted enough time. There are ninety-seven more levels; I’m sure we can find something good and venomous for you guys to snuggle with. Juniper! Gabriel!”

“Yes?” he squeaked.

“Stay right behind me,” she ordered, turning on her heel in the direction of the stairs to Level 4. “Since none of you saps intend to preserve your own well-being, at least you two won’t die in one hit.”

Trissiny stalked off, leaving the group stunned behind her.

“I…I think she’s mad at us,” Fross whispered.

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

6 – 9

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

“Don’t advance,” Trissiny said quietly. “Any deeper into the room and we can be surrounded in an instant.”

“Excuse me, point of order,” said Ruda. “Didn’t you just launch a religious initiative to open up your cult to demonbloods?”

“Demonbloods,” Trissiny said, her voice rising slightly. “People, native to the mortal plane, with souls, like Gabriel.”

“I would love to not be involved in this, Triss…”

“These are the real thing,” the paladin went on fiercely. “Their existence is a state of perpetual war with our kind.”

“There are a good many ‘kinds’ represented here,” Shaeine observed.

“You know what I meant!”

“Do you think they know we can hear them?” Xsythri asked, turning to look up at Melaxyna.

The succubus drummed her fingernails once on the arm of her throne. “Let me tell you a story, children. Once upon a time I aggravated Arachne Tellwyrn and found myself with the choice of being stuck down here, sent back to Hell or blasted to atoms. This was the lesser evil. While I have done my utmost to thwart her intentions with regard to my fate, it is not lost upon me that if I actually managed to wipe out one of her student groups she would come down here and find extravagant new ways to ruin my day.”

“Isn’t that the whole point, though?” Ruda asked. “I mean…you’re a dungeon boss. If Tellwyrn put you here, it was with the expectation you’d try to kill us, and then we’d kill you.”

“Yes,” Melaxyna replied with a feline smile. “Hence thwarting her intentions. The Descent, my dears, is an instanced soulbound sub-dungeon. Do you understand what that means?”

“Um, no,” said Gabriel. “But I bet Fross does.”

“I sure do!” the pixie all but shouted, buzzing around in frantic circles above their heads. “It means there is a theoretically infinite number of Descents existing simultaneously, but experienced separately by each individual or adventuring party who enters!”

“Ah, but that rule applies to guests,” said Melaxyna languidly, raising one finger. “Those of us who are consigned to be fixtures of the Descent experience all of those realities. Our souls are bound to this place and we perceive all that happens in the various convergent realities, simultaneously.”

“Damn,” said Gabriel with a whistle. “What’s that like?”

“Bloody damn confusing,” Xsythri said.

“Demons don’t have souls,” Trissiny growled.

“Two kinds of people don’t know what they’re talking about,” Melaxyna said sweetly. “The ignorant, and the religious. The first group, at least, will sometimes accept correction. To continue my tale, Tellwyrn’s intention was to have me experience being killed and looted, over and over, often at the same time, while the Descent granted me a kind of twisted immortality. Had I understood the implications before being banished to the Crawl, I’d have just gone back to Hell.” Her flawless lips twisted in a sneer. “Tellwyrn isn’t as smart as she likes to believe, however. While she has a disproportionate influence on the running of things around here, that is because she has cultivated a positive relationship with the Crawl itself. The Crawl is the ultimate arbiter of all our fates, and it is amenable to making accords with other individuals, if approached the right way. I have laboriously built up such an accord, cementing my status as Boss here, and ultimately earning…an exception. Level 2 does not enjoy the sanctuary status of the Grim Visage, but it is outside the dynamic of the Descent. We all exist only once, in this place and time; all travelers through the Descent who pass this way converge in one reality and can interact. That is, until they proceed to another level. It’s a slow day, kids; you’ll usually find other adventurers coming through.”

“Wait, other adventurers?” Toby frowned. “The Crawl is supposed to be sealed except to University students.”

“At the top, yes,” the succubus replied with a shrug. “There are whole societies down here. The goblins and naga are quite organized, with other smaller groups in various nooks and crannies. Then, too, there are occasional Scyllithene drow who worm their way up from the depths, and once in a while a party of very lost gnomes. The Descent was designed to be a loot farm; it’s one of the only consistent sources of fresh resources in the Crawl. It never gets exactly crowded, but we’re rather popular. The point of all this, children, is that I am not asking for your trust. Only for you to acknowledge that I respect my own self-interest, and keep my subjects in line.”

Xsythri made a rude noise; Melaxyna ignored her. “You are safe here. Everyone is. Yes, the residents of Level 2 are all dangerous beings, to a greater or lesser degree. You may regard them as a sort of civilian militia. No one is going to do more than take your coin, and that only in exchange for fair value, but the whole population will descend on anyone who causes trouble.” She smiled again, grimly.

“That’s nearly a threat,” Trissiny said.

“Triss, come on,” Toby exclaimed.

“There’s no nearly about it,” Melaxyna replied, interlacing her fingers and resting her chin upon them. “It’s a threat. I’m hoping you turn out to be sensible enough not to provoke me to act upon it. So far, no group of Arachne’s students has done anything so pointlessly rash. You, paladin, are close to the most irritating guest we have had.”

“Remember that group with the priest and the vampire?” Xsythri asked brightly.

“I said ‘close to.’”

“And then there’s Admestus…”

“Xsythri, shut up.”

“Just so we understand one another,” Trissiny said coldly, “any attempt by your population to ‘descend’ on us will result in you needing a new population.”

“Trissiny,” Toby said firmly, “there does not need to be a fight here. Please stop picking at her.”

Melaxyna rose, snapping her wings once, and descended the steps from her throne. She stroked one of the hellhounds in passing. “There is that,” the succubus said, continuing to pace slowly forward. “A Hand of Avei is not a thing lightly dealt with. I, myself, am a schemer rather than a fighter, hence my status as second-weakest Boss of the hundred in the Descent. And then there’s that dryad; really, she’s a lot more of a game-breaker than you are. No, I don’t believe we could take you, not even close. I’m afraid the very gift that keeps Level 2 separate and coherent also makes us vulnerable. Dead, now, is dead.”

She came to within a few feet of the group, folding her arms under her impressive bosom, and stared Trissiny in the eyes. “Therefore, if it appears that you intend to destroy everything I have built up here and end the lives of the people I protect, I will simply trigger the destructive runes I have placed over every inch of the floor and collapse this entire level into the one beneath it. According to my spellcrafter, the force of that should break Level 3 as well, dropping the lot into the next one down. Any of you who survive the fall would find yourselves buried in rubble with three levels’ worth of severely irate monsters, and good luck to you. Do we understand one another?”

“Perfectly,” Trissiny snapped. “You remain true to your destructive nature.”

“Okay, so!” Gabe said brightly. “On to shopping, then? I for one can’t wait to see what’s available down here. The vendors in the Visage weren’t even up yet when we left.”

“You know what?” Melaxyna tilted her head back, still studying Trissiny’s face. “…no. I don’t believe I care for you arrogant little monkeys.” She turned and strolled away toward her chair, folding her wings tightly against her back. “Behind this throne is the door to Level 3. You may come and go freely, but that’s all. Consider yourselves banned. There will be no business or interaction for you, and I’ll thank you to leave my citizens alone.”

“Now, hold on,” Teal said soothingly. “There’s no reason we can’t reach an understanding…”

“Teal, leave it,” said Trissiny. “We’re better off.”

“Well, you heard the lady,” Xsythri said, folding her shelled arms. “Off you go.”

“Wait,” the bard insisted. “Just wait. You need the custom and frankly we need the resources. Not to mention any source of information and allies.”

“We do not—”

“Yes, we do, Trissiny,” Teal said in exasperation. “Will you please give it a rest?”

“I’m done with this conversation,” Melaxyna said, turning back to stare flatly at them. “And with you. Be gone.”

“Now, look what you did,” said Ruda, prodding Trissiny in the side with her fist. “You went and hurt her feelings.”

Teal drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All right…fine.”

She took four paces forward, away from the group, and erupted in hellfire.

Vadrieny’s wings were wider in span than Melaxyna’s; fully extended, they seemed to fill the central open space, stretching so that her pinions nearly brushed the ceiling. She stalked to one side, her talons rasping against the stone floor, and angled herself to keep the succubus and the students both in view.

The effect of her appearance on the residents was instantaneous and remarkable. Melaxyna and Xsythri, with identical expressions of wide-eyed shock, immediately fell to their knees, gaping up at her. The two hellhounds went into a barking frenzy, spitting puffs of fire in her direction. All around the room, demons either knelt or fled and hid themselves behind whatever cover they could find.

“I have absolutely no patience for any more of this nonsense,” Vadrieny declared, her choral voice echoing in the long chamber. She pointed one saber claw at Melaxyna. “If you presume to be in charge here, stop acting like a brat! The children of Vanislaas are supposed to be clever, not prone to throwing tantrums when insulted. And you,” she added with obvious exasperation, swiveling to point at Trissiny, “grow up.”

“Excuse me?” the paladin snapped, reflexively resting a hand on her sword.

“Do you want to make this about force and strength?” Vadrieny shot back. “Fine. You have tried that with me exactly once, Trissiny, and got slapped across the quad for your trouble. And I’m sure I don’t need to point out how much of a chance you don’t have against me,” she added, turning her glare on Melaxyna.

“I would never,” the succubus said hoarsely. “Forgive me, lady, I had no idea you were…”

“Excuse me just a moment,” Vadrieny interrupted her. The two hellhounds were still howling and snarling at her. She took two steps toward them, her talons sinking right into the stone of the floor with a crunch, leaned forward and let out a deafening scream, baring the full complement of her fangs. Melaxyna cringed; Xsythri clapped her hands over her ears. Trissiny reflexively surrounded herself with a bubble of golden light.

When Vadrieny’s scream cut off, there was complete silence. It held for a second, then both hellhounds whimpered and scurried off to hide behind Melaxyna’s throne.

“Much better,” the archdemon said, nodding in satisfaction. “Is everyone through behaving like squabbling children? Good. We will have a nice, civil interaction from here. We will be treated just like any other group of guests, and you, Trissiny, will behave yourself and not make our presence an undue burden upon our hosts. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly,” Melaxyna said, nodding vigorously.

“Well?” Vadrieny prompted, staring at Trissiny.

The paladin drew in a breath and let it out through her nose in a huff. “Fine.”

“I suppose that will do,” the archdemon said dryly. “Honestly, I shouldn’t have to tell you this.”

Ruda cackled and slapped Trissiny on the back. “You just got your manners corrected by a demon, roomie. I bet Avei’s so proud!”

“Ruda,” Toby said firmly, “can we all just stop, please?”

Vadrieny grunted in response to that, then receded. Fire and claws withdrew, leaving Teal standing alone. She shook her head once, stepped back over to the group and prodded the shredded remains of her sandals with a bare toe. “Well…nuts.”

Shaeine strode forward, reached out and entwined her fingers with Teal’s, smiling a hair more broadly than she usually did in public. The bard smiled shyly back.

“Who are you?” Melaxyna asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s a very long story,” Teal said with a sigh. “I’d rather not get into it.”

“Um,” Xsythri said hesitantly. “How…is it you didn’t know what a hethelax is?”

“I didn’t,” Teal said. “Vadrieny corrected me as soon as I asked.”

“So…you’re…two of you in there?”

“Xsythri!” Melaxyna snapped. “Don’t interrogate the..” She trailed off, looking warily at Teal. “…her. Anyway, we have guests, as we just agreed. I believe they need a tour.”

“Me?” the hethelax whined, hunching down in place. “Now?”

“Now!”


“Well, now I regret having the strongest stomach in the group,” Ruda grumbled. “Here we get real food and I have no more room for it.”

“Yes, your life is such a burden,” Gabriel said solicitously. “Will it make you feel better to fucking stab me?”

“It did last time,” she replied, grinning.

“Are you ever gonna let go of that?” Fross asked.

He huffed and crammed a strip of bacon into his mouth. “Don’ see why I shoul’.”

Trissiny watched them sidelong, the porkchop sitting on her plate untouched.

“It’s safe,” Toby said quietly from across the table. “We would sense it if it were demonically corrupted. Look, see?” He extended a hand over her plate, shining a soft light on her food.

“Knowing it’s safe and feeling safe are two very different things,” she muttered, but picked up the bent fork provided and began sawing off a piece with its edge. This took some doing; the utensil was hardly sharp, and the meat was quite tough.

“Of course, we do a lot more commerce in other kinds of meat,” their host said cheerfully. A sshitherosz demon, he resembled a skeletally thin man about four feet tall with wings and an elongated skull, and had a habit of climbing on furniture like a monkey. “Lots of snake and lizard! Which is actually quite good, not so heavy as this. But cave boars are plentiful in the Descent, and in my experience you surface folk do well to start off with something more familiar.”

“How are boars plentiful?” Juniper asked. Despite the full breakfast she’d eaten, she had tucked into the proffered pork without reservation, apparently not sharing Ruda’s limited capacity. “There’s no sun! I mean, they could eat mushrooms… I don’t see how an ecosystem can even work down here. Not with large animals like boars.”

“Subjective physics, remember?” Fross said brightly. “The rules are different in the Crawl.”

“Hmph,” the dryad said. “Some rules are there for good reason.”

“We do grow some vegetables, using alchemy,” said the demon chef. “But, you know…species native to Hell. Lots of inherent infernal corruption; they don’t tend to agree with mortal digestive systems from this plane. I’ll tell you what, though, if you can find me crop seeds, plus sun crystals and soil, I will fork over every scrap of everything in my possession. I bet I can persuade Mel to do the same.”

“Good bloody luck with that,” Xsythri muttered. She was lounging at the end of the table while the students ate, being as ostentatiously sullen as she could.

“That wouldn’t work in the long term,” Juniper noted. “Soil needs fertilizer… And plants need pollination. You can grow them indoors, but it’s really tricky.”

The sshitherosz blinked his beady eyes. “Um… Seeds, sun crystals, soil and a book on agriculture,” he amended.

“We’ll keep our eyes peeled,” Ruda promised.

“This is really generous of you,” Teal said again, smiling at the cook. “I hope it’s not too much of an imposition.”

“Pshaw!” he waved a long, bony hand dismissively, then hopped up onto the sign (lettered in unreadable demonic script) over his grill, grinning down at her. “Not often we get such exalted company! Just so y’know, your ladyship, I really can’t afford to splurge more than once, yeah?”

“I would never ask you to,” she said firmly.

“What the hell are you staring at?” Xsythri burst out, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Never seen a hethelax before?”

“Sorry!” Gabe stammered, his cheeks coloring. “Um, yes, I have, but… I mean, not a female. That is, well, I guess I did once, but I don’t remember… Uh. My mother was a hethelax.”

She snorted. “Well, don’t look at me, kid. I’m glad to say I’ve never been that desperate.” She straightened up, at least partially; she appeared to have a habitual hunch, keeping her knees and elbows slightly flexed, as if the joints didn’t extend fully. “Are you lot about done abusing our hospitality? We’ve got other stops.”

“Damn, lady, what crawled up your butt?” Ruda asked, producing a bottle of ale from within her coat and pulling the cork free.

“Eight rude interlopers and an invisible VIP,” Xsythri said curtly.

“Okay, well, let’s be fair, here. Trissiny’s the only one who was trying to start shit up.”

Trissiny, now chewing a mouthful of stringy pork, glared at her but didn’t attempt to speak.

Xsythri shrugged; her armored plating making a soft rasp. “The boars come from Level 3. Smithic here will pay you to haul more back for us. C’mon, there’s really only one more thing worth seeing.”

“Aw, but we’re all tired from our adventures!” Ruda said merrily. “How much is it to get beds at you very charming little inn?”

“Ruda, enough,” Toby said quietly, pushing his plate back and rising. “Fross, would you be so kind as to preserve the food?”

“You got it!” The pixie darted across the table, hovering momentarily in front of each piece of meat and making them vanish.

“Hey!” Gabriel protested at the sudden loss of his bacon.

“We can finish up next time we halt for a break,” Toby said. “Our guide seems to be in a hurry. I think it’d be better not to ruffle anyone’s feathers more than we have.”

“Well, well,” Xsythri said dryly. “A polite cleric. Now I have truly seen everything.”

“Clerics are usually pretty polite, aren’t they?” Fross asked.

“Not to the likes of me, firefly. Ready? Good. C’mon.”

She strode away, not waiting for them. The students straggled to their feet and trailed after her.

In the far corner of Level 2 stood the big metal arch, linked up to a ramshackle variety of magical equipment, unmistakably a portal of some sort. Beside it stood the hulking form of a baerzurg, a bronze-scaled behemoth with no neck and a head sunken into its upper torso; at their approach, the demon turned from fussing with a rack of control runes and stood patiently watching them.

“This is our real bread and butter,” said Xsythri in a bored tone. “I’ll let Khavibosh explain it to you.”

“Welcome, guests.” The baerzurg’s voice was deep and very hoarse, with wet, raspy sounds underlying each syllable as if his mouth hadn’t been designed for speech. “This is our portal. It can be used to send travelers to any level of the Descent. Not to bring people back, however; it only operates one way.”

“Hey, sweet deal!” Ruda exclaimed. “We can skip right to the end of this horseshit and get Tellwyrn’s box!”

“No,” said Khavibosh. It was hard to read emotion in his voice, if indeed there was any.

“Nothing’s ever that simple,” Toby said fatalistically.

“You may travel only to levels you have previously cleared,” the baerzurg continued. “We exist on the Crawl’s sufferance, and it chooses to enforce certain rules. Much of the impediment of your mission is simple travel time: the Descent is a hundred stories deep, and you must fully cross each level to reach the next stairs. It is unsafe and unwise to camp in the levels, even if you believe them cleared. You will have to travel back and forth, a trip that will grow quite unmanageable as you delve deeper, to rest and resupply. Our portal will remove half that burden. The Crawl permits this simple time-saving measure, but it does not allow cheating.”

“We don’t push its buttons,” Xsythri said flatly. “If we help people cheat, things start to go wrong.”

“Torches won’t stay lit,” Khavibosh rumbled. “Leeches in our water supply. Sudden infestations of bats.”

Xsythri grinned unpleasantly. “Rocks fall, everyone dies.”

“So,” Ruda said, “I guess bribing you isn’t really a prospect, then?”

“You have nothing to offer that would make the loss of our livelihood worthwhile,” Khavibosh replied.

“And it costs what to use the portal?” she asked.

“One silver coin per person.”

Ruda grinned. “Pixies ride free?”

“One silver coin per person,” the baerzurg said inexorably.

“Hm.” Gabriel rubbed his chin. “That waystone Shamlin had is starting to look real attractive. Between that thing and this, we could cut out travel time altogether. Set it to Level 2 and just zip back and forth.”

“We could even skip going back to the Visage!” Fross said.

“We will go back to the Visage,” Trissiny said firmly. “I am not sleeping here.”

“And who’s gonna buy the waystone, hm?” Ruda asked, turning to Gabe and planting her fists on her hips. “I don’t see you coming up with ten decabloons.”

“Well,” he grinned. “Of course, we’d have to owe you. But hey, we’re here to look for treasure anyway, right?”

“Maybe we can spare you a little coin,” said a voice from behind them. The group turned to behold Melaxyna approaching, her hellhounds flanking her. The succubus wore a grin and was bouncing an object in the palm of her hand. “The thing about waystones is they require both a skilled magic user and a great familiarity with the dungeon to make. They’re rare, sure, if you’re stuck gathering up leftovers like Shamlin is. Khavibosh, however, has the skill.”

“Hey, that’s really impressive!” Fross said. “I thought baerzurgs weren’t even intelligent.”

“FROSS!” multiple voices shouted. The pixie dimmed slightly, fluttering down toward the ground.

“What? What’d I say?”

“Baerzurgs are sentient,” Melaxyna said with a grin. “Most are…well, intelligent might be overstating it. The high-caste baerzurgs, though, the magic users, are as smart as anyone, and Khavibosh is definitely one of those. Thus, we can provide you a waystone for mere pocket change. Ten silver bits and you can basically cut out all the walking.” She held up the waystone, giving them a good look.

Unlike the smooth, pale stone Shamlin had shown them, it was glossy and black, apparently carved from obsidian. Diamond-shaped, it was composed of hard edges, and had a similar spiraling rune, though this one glowed a dull red-orange and was a series of straight lines and sharp angles rather than one smooth curve.

“That’s made from infernal magic,” Trissiny snapped.

“See, you’re just leaping to conclusions, now,” Melaxyna said smugly, bouncing the waystone in her palm again. “I know this because it is completely, entirely sealed. No magic leakage of any kind, and fully safe for anyone to carry without risk of infernal corruption. Your vaunted sense evil trick wouldn’t even register this stone.”

“It’s hard to tell,” Toby said carefully. “The room’s full of demons… It’s like trying to find one leaf in a forest.”

“I’ll remind you of my previous speech about how we do business here, then. It gains me nothing to trick or trap you, kids. This stone is made with infernal magic, yes, but causes no infernal radiation. It’s completely harmless unless you crack it open. Which… Don’t do that.”

“What would happen if we opened it?” Fross asked.

“Well,” the succubus mused, “you would die. And then some other stuff would happen, which you’d be in no position to care about.”

The students exchanged a round of glances.

“It sounds like a good deal,” Teal said hesitantly.

“Let’s think on it,” said Trissiny. “Clear a few levels, get a feel for—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, we’ll take it,” Ruda exclaimed.

“Ruda!”

“I will take it, then,” the pirate said, grinning at her. “You may all use my waystone if you wish, just because I’m so generous.”

“It’s linked to Level 2,” Melaxyna informed them. “And that is not changeable. Trace the rune with a fingertip and you, and anyone holding onto you, will be brought back here. Just link arms when you’re ready to travel and have one member of the group activate it.”

“Of course it’s linked to here,” Trissiny muttered.

“Lady, you got yourself a deal!” Ruda reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of coins.

Melaxyna studied her thoughtfully for a moment, then turned her considering gaze on Trissiny, then Teal. “I must say… Despite your several faults, you seem to be a trustworthy group.”

“We do our best,” said Toby.

“Mm.” The succubus tossed the stone to Teal, who, taken by surprised, fumbled in catching it, just barely avoiding dropping it.

“Hey!” Ruda protested.

“We will call that…a loan,” Melaxyna said with another catlike smile. “An investment. If Arachne hasn’t changed her pattern, you have three weeks, yes? Splendid. You may pay me for the stone before leaving the Crawl… Or.” Her smile broadened into an outright grin, her tail beginning to lash behind her. “If you can tempt Rowe out of his little hidey-hole and into my clutches, that stone, and anything else within my power to grant, are yours for the taking.”

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                          Next Chapter >

6 – 7

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

“I can’t decide if we’re getting the real, authentic dungeon experience, here, or the opposite of that,” Gabriel said, standing with his fists planted on his hips, studying the square stone doorway that led to the Descent. It was innocuous enough, a simple gap in the wall on which their little ledge abutted, but beside the door a square block of clearly carved stone had been sunk into the wall. On it were glowing letters:

LEVEL 1

“Seems kinda fake,” Ruda agreed.

“It’s a little too…on the nose?” Fross said uncertainly. “I mean…lots of dungeons are organized by levels, but that’s done by the delvers for their own convenience, and the distinctions are all kind of…rough? And a little arbitrary. This doesn’t seem normal.”

“Well,” Toby said with a smile, “the longer we stand out here talking about it, the longer we can avoid going in there.”

“Ah, hell with it,” said Gabe, grinning and drawing his wand from an inner coat pocket. “Bring on the loot!”

Trissiny stared at him. “Have you been carrying that the whole time?”

“Well, sure.”

“But when we came down here…you’d just woken up. We thought we were doing a project in the library.”

“Well, yeah, I usually carry it,” he said, still grinning. “C’mon, I’ve been practicing with this every available chance since Sarasio. Did you think I just liked waving it around as some kind of phallic substitute?”

“Hm,” she grunted, then turned, drew her sword and stepped warily into the Descent.

“Oh, my gods,” Gabriel shouted behind her. “That’s actually what you thought, isn’t it!”

“Well, in her defense,” Ruda said, clapping him on the shoulder as she strode past, “she’s met you.”

The Descent’s initial approach was reminiscent of that of the Crawl itself. They trooped quietly down a staircase set in a neatly-cut tunnel, lacking lights, but this one was far shorter, ending in another square door easily within sight of the entrance. At the bottom, Trissiny led the way through, both her sword and shield out, now, then planted herself protectively in front of the group while they clustered into the chamber.

“Pretty,” Fross whispered.

The room had a flat ceiling, and flat walls stretched away to either side of the entrance, but that was the only visible sign that the space had been deliberately made. The floor was so cracked and broken that it appeared almost as natural as the bottom of a cave, sections sunken or thrust unevenly up as though in the aftermath of an earthquake. Water dripped audibly in the distance, and trickled across the stonework here and there in small streams. The walls were obscured by a dense growth of mushrooms of every possible description. Some were nearly the size of trees, with stands of smaller ones springing up like clumps of grass or creeping around the bases of the big stalks like ground cover. Footstool-sized toadstools popped up here and there, and frilly growths even hung from some of the huge caps of the biggest mushrooms like curtains of moss. It seemed at least half the fungus species present were luminescent, either biologically or magically, and lit the mushroom forest with soft glows in a variety of pale colors that left it dim, partially glimpsed and entirely mysterious. Through the soft, shadowed shapes, the walls of the chamber were completely out of sight.

“Mushrooms,” Ruda muttered. “For fuck’s sake, is every level gonna be themed? Dammit, Tellwyrn…”

“Stay together,” Trissiny said grimly. “Watch where you step—the ground looks slick. And be wary. There should be monsters of some kind in here. The fact that we can’t see them is not a good sign.”

They crept forward, following her; Gabriel brought up the rear, Fross darting here and there above them and erratically illuminating their surroundings. There was a path, of sorts, or at least a cleared section that seemed too linear to be accidental. At one point, they crossed a rough but obviously deliberately-built footbridge over a gurgling brook.

“It’s too quiet,” Teal all but whispered.

“Will you stop saying shit like that?” Ruda growled.

“Ooh!” At Gabriel’s sudden cry, they all whirled to face him, several of them jumping in surprise. “Look! Glittershrooms!” He was pointing at a tall stand of mushrooms with conical caps which sparkled in Fross’s light as if studded with chunks of crystal.

“Oh, for the love of—can you get stoned on your own time, please?” Ruda snapped.

“I wasn’t gonna eat them,” he said defensively. “It’s just… Look at the size of those. We’re supposed to be looking for treasure, right? Do you have any idea what those are worth?”

“Gabriel,” said Toby, “I’m not in the habit of ordering you around, but I think this merits an exception. I forbid you to enter the drug trade.”

“Listen,” Juniper said suddenly.

They instinctively clustered closer together at the sudden rustling that rose up all around them. Ruda drew her sword; Trissiny fell into a combat stance, raising her shield. Gabriel brandished his wand at the shadows, eyes darting wildly.

“You see what happened, don’t you,” Ruda said quietly.

“Yes,” Trissiny replied, watching their surroundings. The sounds were clearly audible, the unmistakable patter of numerous small feet and a much more unnervingly unidentifiable squeaking. “Whatever it is waited for us to get fully in, surrounded by the mushrooms, before moving. They’re intelligent, then, not animals.”

“Plenty of animals are clever enough to do that,” Juniper argued. “A lot actually—oh! Oh, I know what this is! Excuse me.” She gently pushed between Ruda and Shaeine, stepping out on her own and disregarding Trissiny’s hissed warning. “Caplings!”

As if on cue, a knee-high creature scuttled out of the shadows and right up to her. It looked like nothing so much as a mobile mushroom with spindly arms; if it had feet, they were hidden beneath the bulbous base of its stalk. Its narrow cap angled backward, with a cluster of five beady little eyes facing them just under it. In the fingerless little pads it had instead of hands it clutched a steel-tipped arrow, just the way a full-sized person would hold a spear.

“Caplings?” Trissiny said warily. “I’m not familiar with those.”

“I’m surprised to see them outside the Deep Wild,” Juniper said, bending down to pat the capling on the top of its cap. It made a delighted little trilling sound. “They lived in some of the swamps there, sort of a magical by-product of lots of life energy.”

“Cute little fucker, isn’t he?” Ruda said with a grin. “So, it’s…harmless, then?”

“Well, no,” Juniper said brightly. She picked up the capling, cradling it like a cat; it chirped ecstatically, snuggling close to her and dropping its arrow. “They hunt in packs, you see. There are dozens of them around us. A pack this size can easily take down a large prey animal. Or a human, they tend to get any of those that wander into the swamps.”

“…I’m just gonna get all kinds of sick of mushrooms on this trip, aren’t I?” Ruda asked darkly.

“He doesn’t…seem aggressive,” Gabriel said with some hesitation.

“Well, yeah,” Juniper replied, smiling at him over the capling’s head. “I’m a dryad. They’re fae creatures.”

“So you’re basically…what, their queen?” Teal asked.

“Eh…it doesn’t really work like that. But no, no fairy would attack a dryad. In fact, they’ll help us! This fellow and his pack will lead the way through this room. We’ll be out in no time!”

“Handy,” said Toby.

“Yup!” Juniper said cheerfully, holding the capling out at arm’s length and beaming at it. “They’re also really tasty, if—” She broke off abruptly, a sequence of emotions flashing across her face too quickly to be identified, then swiftly bent and placed the capling on the ground, turning her back to the rest of the group. It hopped up and down twice, chirping, then scuttled off down the path. “Come on,” she said curtly, following.

They moved off after her more slowly, keeping quiet. The rustling continued around them, but as the group proceeded, more caplings appeared, mostly clustering around Juniper up ahead. They were as varied in size and appearance as the mushrooms themselves, though none stood any higher than the dryad’s waist. The rest of the students hung back a bit, keeping Juniper and her new entourage in sight but maintaining a berth between them and the caplings, many of whom were armed with arrows and daggers—or spears and swords, as such appeared in their hands.

“Sooo,” Ruda said very softly after a couple of minutes, “we’re just gonna keep ignoring that, are we?”

“What?” asked Fross.

“I wish I had a better idea,” Toby murmured.

“She doesn’t want to talk about it,” said Gabriel, just as quietly. “I’ve asked. Weekly. It didn’t seem smart to push any harder than that.”

“I’m not sure we can afford to respect that forever,” said Trissiny, “or even much longer. Aside from the fact that she’s our friend, her emotional issues… Well, verbal outbursts can escalate into physical ones, and Juniper could cause a lot of damage.”

“Wait, what?” Fross demanded.

“Keep your voice down,” Ruda hissed at her. “And Boots, what exactly do you propose to do? It’s not like we can make her decide to open up. It’s like the old joke: Where does a dryad sleep?”

“Anywhere she wants,” Trissiny replied automatically. Abruptly, she came to a stop, letting out a startled laugh. “Oh! It’s a double meaning! Because dryads are promiscuous and too powerful to— I just got that!”

“I will never understand how someone so sheltered can be so stab-happy,” Ruda said wonderingly.

Shaeine cleared her throat. “As a point of reference, Juniper has mentioned that dryads can adjust the acuity of their senses. I would not make assumptions concerning what is and is not within her earshot.”

The group fell silent at that.

“Hey, are you guys coming?” Juniper called from up ahead. “Don’t worry, they won’t bother you! You’re with me, after all.”

“Right,” Trissiny said more loudly. “Coming.” She suited the words with action, picking up her pace a little. The others followed, staying as close together as they comfortably could on the narrow path.

The mushroom forest was disorienting. Filled entirely with soft, rounded shapes and confusing patterns of dim light, it made it difficult to maintain a sense of direction. The path didn’t help, meandering here and there around giant mushroom stalks, pools of water and crags of broken stonework. Even time seemed to condense and distort in that mysterious environment, though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before another wall hove into view between the shrooms.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a boss or something?” Gabriel asked as they formed up in a cleared space in front of another door. Beyond this, yet another set of steps descended into darkness.

“Oh, there’s a big capling,” Juniper said earnestly, “the alpha of this pack. He’s sleeping, though.”

“We don’t get to fight the boss because he’s sleeping?” Fross asked incredulously.

“Okay, seriously, glowbell, you’re taking this dungeon stuff way too literally,” said Ruda. “Level bosses? Come on. Real life isn’t organized like that.”

“This isn’t real life,” the pixie said petulantly. “It’s a dungeon. There are traditions.”

No sooner had she spoken than there came a flash of light, followed by a cascade of sparks, and glowing words appeared on the wall to the right of the door:

LEVEL 2

Directly below that, in a small alcove in the stone, there came another spray of sparkles and tiny, plain-looking chest appeared with a soft chiming sound.

“Goddamn it, Tellwyrn,” Ruda groaned.

“I feel like that was flashier than it needed to be,” Gabriel agreed.

“Well, might as well see what we won,” Teal said reasonably, edging closer to the chest and keeping a wary eye on the caplings. Juniper was busily shooing them away; they seemed reluctant to leave her, but did begin trickling off, back into the mushroom forest. The bard knelt, opening the chest and rummaging around in it. “Let’s see…”

“Well?” Gabriel asked eagerly.

Teal stood up, grimacing. “My friends, we have triumphantly attained one plain steel dagger, fifteen silver coins with Professor Tellwyrn’s face on them, and a pair of pants.”

“Fucking Tellwyrn,” Ruda growled.

“…good pants?” Gabe asked hopefully.

“Eh.” Teal shrugged, holding up the garment in question. “Looks like corduroy, sorta like your coat. Wouldn’t match, though…at least I don’t think so. It’s hard to tell in this light, but I’m pretty sure this is…maroon?”

“Got ’em!” Fross zoomed over, making the loot disappear as she had the leftovers of their breakfast. “Cloth pants are caster gear, so… Shaeine, how are you set for pants?”

“Quite comfortably, thank you,” the drow replied placidly.

“Ugh, forget the goddamn pants,” Ruda said, rolling her eyes. “Let’s just get on with it. Hopefully the bullshit gets less shitty from here.”

Trissiny again led the way down. This flight of stairs ended in a landing below, turning a corner and obscuring their final destination from view. The paladin paused on the landing, waiting for the others to form up, before proceeding carefully the rest of the way.

Her caution turned out to be warranted. The doorway at the bottom of the stairs opened onto a semicircular space made of metal screens, with a curtain-covered door right in the middle. Torches provided a cheerful orange light, and there was a babble of voices and noise from beyond the metal barrier that sounded like nothing so much as a town square on market day. Trissiny had increasingly tensed as she drew closer to the bottom, though, as had Toby, and upon stepping onto the flat ground, the others could immediately tell why.

A figure had stood from her perch on a stool beside the door at the sound of their approach and was watching them eagerly, if rather warily, as they all piled out of the stairwell.

“Hello, hello!” she said, regarding them with what was probably meant to be a warm smile but came out looking rather predatory. “Welcome, welcome, travelers, to Level 2!”

“Um,” Teal said hesitantly, peeking out from behind Toby’s shoulder. “What…what is that?”

The woman wore a plain and rather shabby dress that seemed to have been hastily assembled from sackcloth, but no one paid that any mind. She was human in proportion, but thick, glossy growths of some kind of carapace covered her lower arms and legs, making her limbs look rather like crab pincers, complete with blunted claws on her fingers and toes. A similar growth covered her forehead, stopping just above her featureless, pitch-black eyes like a helmet, and plates of the natural armor protected her shoulders. Her skin, where the carapace didn’t cover it, was subtly textured with a pattern rather like a snake’s scales. A short, thick tail waved behind her, and she hunched slightly at the elbows and knees, as if her armor plating prevented her from fully straightening the joints.

“That,” Trissiny said grimly, “is a hethelax demon.”

“That?” the hethelax asked wryly, tilting her head. “Well. You’re not as ill-mannered as some adventurers, though frankly that isn’t saying much. One of Tellwyrn’s bunches, aren’t you? I’ve not seen you before, you must be the new— Holy shit, is that a dryad?!”

“Well, look who’s popular,” Ruda said, jabbing Juniper with her elbow and grinning.

“Gabriel, stay at the back,” Trissiny said curtly.

“For fuck’s sake, what is it with you?” he snapped. “I’m not going to run off and join—”

“That isn’t what I was concerned about,” she shot back. A subtle golden light rose up around her, clinging close to her armor.

“Ah,” he said sheepishly, shuffling backward. Trissiny’s aura expanded as he moved out of the way.

“Whoah, whoah, cut that out,” the hethelax protested, holding up a clawed arm to shield her eyes. “Damn Arachne and her melodrama, I would think people would start telling you lot what to expect down here. Will you please keep it in your pants? Level 2 is a safe zone!”

“A safe zone that has a demon for a doorkeeper?” Toby asked warily.

“Well, it is a demon level,” she said.

“I fucking knew it,” Ruda grunted. “Themed levels. Fucking Tellwyrn.”

“Weapons aren’t going to be effective, except mine,” Trissiny said, keeping her eyes locked on the demon. “Hethelaxi are all but indestructible, but not strong. Divine magic is—”

“Stop!”

The curtain was flung open and another figure stalked through, spiny wings flaring open to fill the space and block their view of the now-cringing hethelax. The new arrival wore a short, clinging red dress that concealed little of her milky skin, and a thunderous scowl.

“What is it with you University kids?” the succubus ranted. “Were you all raised in a barn? What has to be going on in your heads that you think barging into someone’s home and assaulting the first person to greet you is acceptable behavior? You!” She pointed imperiously at Shaeine. “Drow! You’re a cleric, I can feel it from here despite this thug in front flaring up. Are you Scyllithene or Themynrite?”

“I am a priestess of Themynra,” Shaeine said slowly.

“Good! C’mere.” The demon beckoned to her with a peremptory motion, tossing her head and sending red-tinged black curls cascading.

“You don’t need to do anything, Shaeine,” Trissiny said firmly.

“With respect, Trissiny, I think you are mistaken,” Shaeine replied, easing carefully forward through the group. “I believe I know what she intends. If you would kindly diminish your light somewhat?”

“I don’t see the point in this,” Trissiny muttered, but acquiesced, not taking her wary gaze off the two demons.

“It is a simple matter of theological and magical alignment,” the priestess said quietly, moving up to stand beside her. “The light given to you by the Pantheon burns all demonkind, but to invoke Themynra’s power is to call upon her judgment, and she accounts for much more than one’s plane of origin in discerning friend from foe.” She held up one hand, and a cool silver glow emerged from it, swelling outward to wash over the succubus and the hethelax cowering behind her.

The succubus shivered, rubbing her arms as if cold. “Ugh…that feels weird.” She fixed a steely gaze upon Trissiny. “Nothing like the judgment of a vengeful goddess, however. At this range that would burn my skin right off. Are you satisfied, cleric?”

“She’s a paladin, actually,” Gabriel said helpfully.

The demon’s crystalline blue eyes darted from the device on Trissiny’s shield to the same golden eagle on her breastplate, and she curled her lip. “Ugh. And an Avenist. We are quite simply not going to have any kind of a reasonable discussion, then, are we?”

“We don’t seem to be progressing in that direction,” Trissiny snapped.

“If I may?” Shaeine said politely, bowing. “We are quite in the dark as to this situation, madame…?”

“Melaxyna,” the succubus said with a smile. “Or Mel to my friends. A title is not necessary, but I am the boss of this level.”

“Yup!” said the hethelax from behind her. “Kill her for shiny loots!”

“And this is Xsythri,” Melaxyna said calmly. Her nimble tail lashed out, wrapping around one of Xsythri’s ankles and yanking her leg out from under her, sending the hethelax tumbling to the floor with a squawk.

“Charmed,” said Shaeine. “This is—”

“Child, I truly do not care,” the succubus interrupted. “You’re here, and you’ll be wanting to continue your little adventure. That is what’s important here. Well, come with me, then.” She turned and sashayed back through the door, flicking the curtain out of her way with a contemptuous gesture.

“I do not like this,” Trissiny said darkly. “I can feel demons…everywhere.”

“Like I said,” Xsythri snipped, “it’s a demon level. Well? C’mon in if you’re coming.” She ducked through the curtain after shooting Trissiny a dirty look.

Trissiny drew in a deep breath and let it out through her teeth. “…right. I guess there’s nowhere to go but forward. Stay behind me.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, unclench for two seconds,” Ruda snorted, shoving out from behind her and swaggering forward. She ducked through the curtain. Trissiny darted after her with a guttural noise of frustration, leaving the rest to follow.

Beyond the curtain, demons were indeed everywhere.

Level 2 appeared to be a single, wide-open space, lit by an assortment of bonfires and free-standing torches that added both heat and a smoky, sour smell that seemed to suit the chamber’s inhabitants. Off to the right of the entrance were pens and cages containing a number of non-sentient demon species, as well as a constant caterwauling of their various cries; another hethelax, this one male, was trudging along between the rows, carrying a hefty broom. Running toward the opposite side of the chamber from that were what appeared to be free-standing market stalls containing a variety of wares; roughly-painted signs advertized food, alchemy supplies, weapons, poisons and other gear. Left from the door was a space clumsily walled off by scraps of wood, metal and canvas. In the far corner stood an enormous black arch, rigged up to rusted-looking modern enchanting equipment, which was clearly a portal of some kind. The hulking form of a baerzurg demon stood before this, fiddling with the machinery. As the students stared around, a pack of imps, horned ape-like creatures no bigger than the smallest of the caplings, darted past them, snickering. Other demons went about their business on all sides, most pausing to inspect the new arrivals, though none approached.

“Holy shit,” Gabriel marveled. “It’s…it’s a village.”

“It’s a little slice of hell,” Trissiny grated.

“It’s a peaceful place, at least so far,” Shaeine said firmly. “I approve of caution, but let us not initiate needless hostilities.”

“Well, do come on,” Melaxyna called from up ahead. Directly down the open center of the big chamber, a throne was set up opposite the door, almost to the far wall. It towered over them, reached by a short flight of stairs; the whole thing was roughly-carved from faceted obsidian and haphazardly draped with a length of red velvet, an effect which was at once barbaric and quite striking.

Melaxyna sat upon it, smirking down at them with her wings arched behind and above her. Xsythri stood off to one side, plated arms folded, staring at them impatiently. Two hellhounds sat upright on either side of the throne’s steps—actual hellhounds, not khankredahg demons. They were slim, sleek and might have passed for coal-black racing hounds if not for their ridged horns, flaming red eyes and the outsized talons which sprang from their paws. As the students watched, one yawned, emitting a small puff of flame.

“Come, come,” the enthroned succubus called out brightly. “Welcome to Level 2! Make yourselves at home, do some shopping, avail yourselves of any of the many amenities we offer. Only respect the peace and order of this place while you’re here…if you know what’s good for you. We have a great deal that should be of interests to a wise adventuring party. Xsythri will be only too happy to escort you around!”

The hethelax snorted so hard they could clearly hear it across the room.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Ruda muttered, folding her arms. “At some point in our oh-so-dangerous dungeon crawl are we maybe going to get to fucking fight something?”

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

6 – 6

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

“No, thanks,” Gabriel said with a shudder when Ruda offered him the bowl of stew. “I’ll stick to mushrooms.”

“Your loss,” she said with a shrug, dipping her spoon back into it and taking a bite.

“How is it?” Toby asked warily.

She shrugged. “Bland. Heavy on the gravy. More ‘shroom than meat. Not the worst thing I’ve eaten, though.”

“All things considered,” said Gabe, peering around the Visage’s common room and lowering his voice, “I can’t get over the fear the mystery meat in this place might include something…y’know…sentient.”

“It’s not,” Juniper mumbled around a mouthful of stew, then paused to swallow, tilting her head with a thoughtful expression. “Rat, some kind of pork, and…snake? Maybe lizard. Little things.”

“Where the hell do they get pork?” Gabriel demanded. The dryad shrugged mutely and had another bite.

“Probably cave boars,” said Fross sagely. “A fairly common upper-level dungeon inhabitant. Or, at least, they were a hundred years ago when the manuals were still being written…”

“Most of those ‘manuals’ were historical even then,” Teal said with a smile.

“Yeah, well…” Gabriel glanced at Juniper, then sighed, picking up one of the shriveled brown stalks on his own plate. “I’m still not convinced. Call me paranoid, but you grow up slightly demonic and you develop a healthy fear of doing anything…evil. Even accidentally. That sounds like some of those ingredients might have still been people.”

“I said pork,” Juniper snapped, slamming her spoon down on the table. “Pork, as in pig. I wasn’t hinting at something. It’s not human.”

Everyone stared at her in silence.

“Uh, Juno,” Gabriel said hesitantly, “I meant the other parts. Lizard? Snake? Can you be absolutely sure that’s not, say…goblin, or naga?”

“Oh.” She swallowed heavily dropping her gaze. “Um… I don’t… I mean, I’ve never tried… I dunno.” Hunching her shoulders, the dryad carefully pushed her stew bowl away and reached for a mushroom from the communal platter in the middle of the table.

“Yeah, well, I’ll cope,” said Ruda with a shrug, fishing up another spoonful of brown, lumpy stew. “I’ve had mermaid, after all.”

“You’ve what?” Trissiny exclaimed, setting down the large mushroom cap on which she’d been nibbling.

Ruda finished chewing before answering, smirking at the horrified expressions all around the table. “Let me just guess. I say ‘mermaid’ and you’re all picturing pretty girls in seaweed brassieres with fish tails, yeah? Which is as kinky as it is dumb, and proof that the bards get good an’ drunk before making up all the shit you shorebound think you know about the ocean. Mermaids are giant fucking twelve-foot-long snakes with arms and vaguely humanoid heads. We only figure they’re intelligent because they use weapons and magic. All they do is hiss and screech if you try to talk to ’em.”

“Weapons and magic are, indeed, signs of sentience,” Shaeine said. “Is food that scarce in Puna Dara? Even in the Underworld it is considered the furthest extremity of starvation when people are reduced to eating intelligent beings.”

“It’s not about that,” said Ruda, scooping up another bite of stew and regarding it thoughtfully. “Mermaids eat people. Seriously, they attack ships to try to get the delicious, chewy passengers. Their favorite tactic is to magically induce a state of doldrums around a target vessel; no wind or currents to propel it, and they pull on any oars that’re put down. Then their witches do something from underneath that makes all the food stores spoil within minutes or hours, all so they can weaken the crew enough to attack and overwhelm ’em. They deliberately ruin food in order to eat the fucking people.”

“So, what?” Trissiny demanded, frowning. “You just eat them right back?”

“Pretty much,” said Ruda with a grin, “though you’re oversimplifying it. The most reliable counter-tactic to this is to harpoon one of the fuckers, haul it up on deck and have a goddamn barbecue right where the rest can see.”

“Showing dominance,” said Juniper, nodding. “Makes perfect sense.”

“That,” Ruda agreed, pointing the dripping spoon at her, “and also it makes the point that the crew won’t run out of food unless they damn well leave. Generally, they do after you cook the first one.”

“What’s to stop them from just waiting under the boat until everyone starves?” Gabriel asked, his expression one of horrified fascination.

“Ship,” said Ruda, giving him a disparaging look. “If you’re in mermaid territory on a boat, your ass is dead to begin with and it’s to the overall benefit of the gene pool. As for why they don’t wait…impatience, mostly. They can’t seem to resist poking their heads up to check. That’s why the whole sentience thing isn’t considered absolutely certain, magic or no magic. They may be intelligent, but they’re not terribly smart.”

“Well.” Trissiny very carefully set down her mushroom cap. “Suddenly I find I have little appetite.”

“Yup,” Gabriel agreed, pushing away his plate of stalks.

Ruda cackled at them, but Fross quickly darted down to hover over the table.

“Well, don’t waste food,” the pixie said worriedly. “It’s apparently not the easiest thing to come by down here… I’m just gonna store all this, okay? I made sure to have plenty of dimensional holding space for treasure and whatnot, and it’ll keep fresh while it’s in limbo.”

“You go right ahead,” said Gabriel, watching with interest while she levitated various mushrooms into her shining aura, where they disappeared. “Anybody else?”

Ruda insisted on finishing her stew; Juniper was the only other member of the party who still wanted to eat, but she gathered up a handful of mushrooms to munch on the way. With that seen to, they all pushed back their chairs and rose.

“All done, then?” Sarriki asked brightly, pausing as she slithered past. “Big day! Heading out on your first delve, are we?”

“Any advice?” Toby asked lightly.

“Don’t,” she suggested, then moved off, chuckling sibilantly to herself.

“Oh, just ignore her,” Rowe advised, leaning on the rail of the bar’s upper level and grinning down at them. “She likes to remind everyone how impossible she is to fire. It’s not like I can put up a ‘help wanted’ sign. So! You pigeons ready to head out, then? Allow me to show you the way!” Flapping his wings once for emphasis, he turned and sashayed off toward the bar. Trissiny gave them all a very pointed look before leading the way up the stairs and after the incubus.

Rowe was waiting next to the bar, beside one of the curtained doorways. At their approach, he pulled aside the slightly ragged length of red velvet hanging over the opening and gestured them through, grinning and bowing.

“After you,” Trissiny said sharply.

The demon laughed at her. “My, my, so suspicious! Ah, well, it’s probably for the best. Good habit to be in, while you’re in the Crawl! Walk this way, my little lemon drops.”

He strolled on through, tail waving languidly. Trissiny paused, watching him with her hand straying near her sword. Gabriel sashayed past her, swinging his hips exaggeratedly with each step and prompting a chorus of laughter.

“Welcome, dear children, to the marketplace!” Rowe enthused, directing their attention around the chamber with great sweeping gestures of his whole arms. It was longer than the main bar area, but roughly as wide, and about as tall; rough-cut steps descended from the door to the floor, leaving the ceiling high above and creating a spacious feel despite the fact that it was constructed of windowless gray stone and lit only by fires and a single flickering fairy lamp. Like the rest of the Grim Visage, the marketplace looked unfinished and rough, as if a naturally occurring cave in the rocks had been expanded by extremely casual stonemasons to roughly room-like proportions. The floor sloped slightly but noticeably toward the center, making a valley running between the steps on their end and another, larger door opposite. On either side of the long space were counters constructed of scraps of stone, wood and metal; torches lined the upper walls, burning in a variety of different colors, and a thick iron barrel sat smack in the center, in which a sullen little bonfire flickered.

“Cheerful,” Gabriel commented.

“Well, it’s pretty early, according to our arbitrary system of sunless timekeeping,” said Rowe. “You can meet everyone else as opportunity permits. We’ve got a metalsmith, an alchemist and an enchanter who all do business down here. But! I made certain the one fellow you really want to talk to before setting out was awake and at work!”

Indeed, only one of the stands was occupied, the one which displayed rolls of parchment in barrels and maps tacked up to the walls behind and around it. Behind the counter sat a youngish human man in an absurd floppy hat trailing a bedraggled ostrich feather; at Rowe’s introduction, he waved up at them.

“Hello, there! So you’re the new crop of freshmen, eh? I’m Shamlin, wandering bard and dungeon cartographer extraordinaire! C’mon down, don’t be shy, let’s have a look at you… My goodness, is that a dryad?”

“Yes, it is,” Juniper said archly. “I mean, she is. I am. Yes.”

“Well, how about that.” Shamlin shook his head in bemusement as they trickled over to stand around his stall. “So, are you also a witch, then? I bet a dryad would make a simply fabulous witch.”

“Um…” Juniper frowned at him, then glanced uncertainly over at the others. “No?”

“Huh.” He picked up the mandolin that had been resting on his counter and began plucking aimlessly at the strings, still studying them. “You’re the only one who seems to have a lot of fae energy in her aura… But then again, maybe you have so much that you’re drowning the others out. You lot are clustered rather closely together, after all. Whose pixie is that, then?”

“Mine!” Fross said irritably. “I am my pixie! My name is Fross, and I’m a freshman!”

Shamlin blinked once, then stood and bowed to her. “My humblest apologies, then, dear lady. I of all people should know better than to judge what I see by my own expectations.”

“Well, I guess that’s sort of okay then,” Fross said, somewhat mollified.

“Did you say you’re a cartographer?” Teal asked.

“Dungeon cartographer!” Shamlen declared, grinning. “If you want maps of the Crawl, I’m the one to call! I buy and sell, and I’m always in the market for up-to-date information on the situation! The Crawl does so like to shift about, you see. Fresh intelligence is vital for any up-and-coming adventurer!”

“Some cartographer,” said Rowe, grinning hugely. “He’s a middleman, is what he is. Hence sitting here in safety and comfort getting absurdly rich while other people do the heavy lifting.”

“It’s a living,” Shamlin said complacently. “And you’re not one to talk.”

“Excuse me,” Gabe said, “but are you…uh, human?”

“Last I checked!”

“Then, um…what, exactly, are you doing down here?”

“Making gold hand over fist,” the bard replied with a grin. “Which brings us to the subject of business! Have any of you experience with mapmaking?”

They exchanged a round of glances; several of them shook their heads.

“Pity,” Shamlin mused. “That would’ve spared us all some effort… No matter! I have just the thing for you!” Reaching under his counter, he pulled out a long wooden scroll case, capped with rune-engraved brass and with a glass viewing panel set into its front. Within was a roll of parchment, and a quantity of loose liquid ink which sloshed about without leaving any stains, somehow. “What I have here is the latest word in modern cartography, the preferred sidearm of Imperial surveyors and gnomish questers alike! The auto-mapper need only be carried with you and it will, with no effort whatsoever on your part, render a perfectly accurate chart of your environs as far as your senses can perceive and beyond! Yours for the excessively reasonable price of twenty gold pieces, and that, my friends, includes your discounts for being students of the University. Make your own maps as you go—and if you bring me back maps of anything new or different, I’ll gladly buy them off you!”

“So,” Teal said slowly, “you want us to buy something that will possibly—maybe—give us something to sell back to you.”

“Hey, that’s a neat trick,” Ruda remarked. “A reliable way to turn everyone else’s gold into your gold.”

“You’re not wrong,” Shamlin said with a shameless grin. “But as you’re soon to learn, kids, adventuring isn’t what you’d call a reliable pastime. Oh, you’re bound to round up some treasure in the Crawl unless you’re complete idiots—in which case you’ll just wind up dead. But there will be good runs and bad runs; one day you’ll come home flush with plunder, the next you’ll be scrabbling to buy yourselves dinner. Keeping an auto-mapper in your inventory is just a way to inject a little reliability into your accounting! Bring me up-to-date maps and I’ll pay in good silver, and more if they’re notably different from the maps I’ve already got!”

“We’ll think about it,” Trissiny said firmly. “Come along, everyone.”

“Wait!” Shamlin exclaimed, rummaging below his counter again. “You want to see how you fare on your own first, I respect that. But there is one thing you absolutely must know of before you set out… Ah, here we go!” He set down an oblong, fist-sized piece of white marble, rounded as if it had lain in a riverbed and engraved with a single swirling rune which glowed blue. “A Crawl waypoint stone!”

“A what?” Gabe asked, interested in spite of himself.

“Oh! Oh!” Fross darted back and forth in excitement. “I’ve read about these! You attune it to a specific spot, and then you can invoke it to teleport back to that spot from anywhere else in the dungeon! Very handy!”

“In fact, a dungeon delver’s best friend!” Shamlin proclaimed. “Now, I understand you had a little trouble passing Imperial decabloons up above, eh? Well, as someone who does intend to head back topside one of these days, I have more use of those than most of the Crawl’s denizens. For a mere ten such coins, this little beauty is yours!”

“You’re a funny guy,” said Ruda, her voice and expression deadly calm.

“Ah, now, think about what I’m offering,” he chided gently. “Dungeon waypoint stones are only useful in genius locus dungeons like the Crawl. Each has to be created by a mage of some significant power who is intimately familiar with the dungeon, and each can only be attuned to a specific dungeon. Gnomes do good business in manufacturing them for their own delves; the Empire cranks them out for strike teams in the dungeons it controls. But the Crawl?” He shook his head, grinning. “Supply and demand, kiddies, supply and demand! Professor Tellwyrn is probably the only person alive who even can make one of these for the Crawl, and she won’t. Forcing you poor kids to rough it as roughly as possible is the whole point of her operation. The only way to get your hands on a Crawl waypoint stone is to loot it from the corpses of adventurers past, which is exactly where this baby came from. The demand, down here, is vast, the supply virtually nonexistent. I’m giving you an absolute steal of a deal, just because you’ve got honest faces and because I feel bad about that little mix-up regarding Miss Fross.”

“We,” Trissiny said downright grimly, “will think about it. Excuse us.”

“Better luck next time, buddy,” Rowe said to Shamlin, grinning hugely. “All right, my little muffins, right this way! Come along, come along, you’re just moments from adventure!” He led them down the center toward the opposite door, pushed this open and stepped through.

Beyond was another lip of stone, wide enough for the whole party to gather comfortably, with another stone walkway arching off through midair above an impossible drop. It led to a tiny stone island suspended in space, with four stone paths branching off from it.

“Ah, there you are,” said Professor Ezzaniel, straightening up from where he had been leaning against the wall. “I realize the food here is less than appetizing, but it would be wise not to get in the habit of dawdling over breakfast. Thank you, Rowe.”

“You bet!” the demon said cheerfully, throwing him a mocking salute. “Best of luck and lots of fun, cupcakes! Come back with exciting stories for us!” He blew them all a kiss before ducking back into the Visage and shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Why does he keep calling us desserts?” Fross asked.

“Because he’s a creep,” said Trissiny.

“He is what he is,” Ezzaniel said curtly. “Everyone ready to set out, I hope? Good. This way.” He turned and strode off down the narrow walkway toward the island.

“Oh, that way?” Gabriel snipped. “You don’t think we should just plunge over the sides instead?”

“If you wish to raise the collective intelligence of the party, Mr. Arquin, there are less extreme methods,” Ezzaniel replied without turning around. “You could simply keep quiet, for example.”

Ruda cackled, slugged Gabe on the shoulder, and swaggered off after Ezzaniel. The others followed them much more carefully. There was plenty of room to walk, but this path was much narrower than the stairs which had brought them to the Grim Visage from the exterior.

Ezzaniel waited on the stone island while they all regathered.

“This is really disturbing,” Toby muttered, stepping gingerly and wincing. “What’s holding this thing up?”

“Oh, don’t even talk to us about floating islands,” Ruda said dismissively. “We have to sleep on one.”

“It’s amazing what you can get used to,” Teal agreed, grinning.

Ezzaniel cleared his throat. “In any case. You are free to explore the Crawl in whatever way you wish—this is, by definition, an unstructured exercise. Some previous years have chosen to forgo the assigned objectives and pursue self-directed agendas. If, however, you decide to pursue the chest whose acquisition will guarantee you an A for the exercise, simply follow this path. Remember it: first one to the left on this island from the Grim Visage. This will lead you to the Descent.”

“We have to go up to reach the Descent,” Ruda said, studying the walkway he indicated, which quickly became a staircase rising toward the far wall of the vast, sloping chasm. “Seems appropriately ass-backward.”

“The Descent,” Ezzaniel pressed on, “is the part of the Crawl most directly influenced by Professor Tellwyrn. I am not completely certain of the details, but I would venture to say that she has shaped it into exactly the challenge she intends her students to meet. It is a series of one hundred levels, accessible only from the highest. The treasure box you are assigned to retrieve is at the bottom. Each level features hazards of a different variety, with a boss encounter every three levels and a final threat to be faced at the end of the very last, guarding the box.”

“Textbook dungeon dive!” Fross proclaimed.

“Too textbook,” Teal added. “That seems kind of…artificial.”

“It is, as I have said, Professor Tellwyrn’s contribution to the Crawl,” Ezzaniel replied, nodding. “You are not really expected to obtain the box, whether or not you choose to make the attempt. You will be judged and graded by your overall performance.”

“According to what objective standards?” Shaeine asked quietly.

“My best judgment,” he replied with a smile. “And so, I leave you to it. We will speak this evening when you return to the inn. You may of course direct your efforts as you think best, but I do advise you not to be out more than one day at a time. Good luck, students.”

He turned and strode back to the Grim Visage, the freshmen watching him go in silence.

“So,” Gabriel said at last. “I guess we have a decision to make…”

“Does anyone seriously want to wander around in this place at random?” Trissiny asked pointedly.

“Um…kinda?” Fross said hesitantly. “But…sort of only a little. In any case I think we should have a look at the Descent first. It’s the assignment, after all.”

“I agree,” said Toby. “Any objections?”

Trissiny studied the stairs Ezzaniel had indicated. “Fross…be ready with that levitation spell of yours.”

“Always!”

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

6 – 4

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

Professor Ezzaniel bore their nervousness with exactly four seconds’ worth of patience before loudly clearing his throat.

“If we could all continue through the door, that would be splendid.”

The students shuffled a little further in, with no great enthusiasm, clearing a path for their professor. He strode unhurriedly through the group, moving with his typical sinuous grace, like a stalking cat, and showing absolutely no concern for the various monsters present. The three drow turned their predatory grins on him, which he ignored; the naga paused in her route to give him a flirtatious smile and a wink, complete with a brief flaring of the spiny fins she had in place of hair. Ezzaniel nodded politely to her, continuing on his way. He got about halfway across the main open space before pausing to turn back to the freshmen with an expression of exasperation.

“Children, you cannot live on the threshold. Move forward, please.”

Trissiny started moving first, gripping her sword on the verge of whipping it out. One of the drow laughed, but most of the bar’s occupants ignored them entirely. The ogre didn’t even seem to notice their presence, absorbed in his barrel of whatever he was drinking. The students clustered together, Fross hovering directly above the little knot of them, and moved to rejoin Professor Ezzaniel; no sooner had they reached him than he turned and strode off again.

The room was divided into two levels, separated by a waist-high (on a human) ledge lined by a bannister. Tables and chairs filled the lower level, with a huge hearth on on end of the room, in which burned a cheerfully intense but small-for-the-space fire; the other had a window looking out on the depressing view of the sloping chasm outside. On the second level were bigger, better-padded chairs and a couple of low tables, though this area was clearly more suited to sitting and conversing than eating meals. Opposite the bannister overlooking the entrance was the bar, behind which the bartender grinned wolfishly, watching them approach.

Ezzaniel took the short staircase to the upper level in a single lanky bound; the students followed him much more sedately. It was less populated up here; two more goblins were canoodling together in a chair sized for someone much bigger than they, and a harpy hung upside-down in the far corner, gnawing at a bone and watching them beadily. Aside from that, there was nobody up here but the bartender.

He was gorgeous, with a long face whose full lips and lavish eyelashes made him almost effiminately pretty, while its sharp angles seemed downright rugged. His lean musculature was very much on display; if he was wearing anything, it was only below the waist. Despite his basically human countenance, though, his species was unmistakable. The eyes framed by those girlish lashes were a deep topaz in color and glittered like crystals; his black hair had distinctly blue highlights. Worse were the wings. As they approached, he snapped them once to both sides as though shaking dust from their batlike folds, then settled them back behind him so that only their joints poked up above his shoulders.

Trissiny had never been this close to an incubus before. She could feel the wrongness of him clawing at her subtler senses, the ones that came with Avei’s calling which never flared up unless something was badly wrong. A glance at Toby and the tension in his face said he felt the same. She did not take her hand away from her sword.

“Emilio, it’s been too long!” the incubus said with a companionable grin. “Is it freshman time already? They days run together down here. I must say I’m surprised to see you; doesn’t the loon in the tight pants usually do these groups?”

“Admestus is in the doghouse,” Professor Ezzaniel said with a wry twist of his mouth. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“Well, you could make it up to me.” The demon grinned more broadly, planting an elbow on the bar and leaning toward Ezzaniel; the motion made lean muscles slide under his alabaster skin in a way that was too ostentatious not to have been deliberate. “What’ll it cost me to get you into some tight pants?”

“You can’t afford me,” Ezzaniel said in a disinterested tone, then turned to the students. “This, kids, is the Grim Visage.”

“Yeah, we read the sign,” Ruda snipped.

“I have had you in class for a semester and a half, Miss Punaji; I am no longer so blissfully naïve as to assume you have observed the obvious. This inn is at the effective crossroads of the Crawl; all of the dungeon’s various branches and wings connect directly to this spot. As such, and because it is a sanctuary, it serves as the launching point for student adventures in the dungeon. You will come back here to sleep, resupply and lay such plans as you need to. This,” he nodded at the incubus, who waggled his eyebrows at them in greeting, “is Rowe, the proprietor and your landlord for the next three weeks.”

“I am so indescribably charmed I just can’t tell you,” the demon said smoothly, making an elaborately courtly bow emphasized by a flourish of one of his wings.

“Is that…safe?” Trissiny asked tightly.

“My dear,” said Rowe, straightening up and giving her an earnestly straightforward look that made her skin crawl, “you are as safe in this inn as in the arms of your own goddess.”

“That is both vastly implausible and verges on blasphemy.”

“Oh, what’s a spot of blasphemy between friends?” he said glibly. “But you raise a valid point! As your professor has said, the Grim Visage is a sanctuary. There is no fighting here, no harm of any kind. Remember that well.”

“We are glad to abide by such a rule,” said Shaeine, “so long as we are accorded the same courtesy. What assurance is there that this shall be so?”

“Ah, I’m afraid you misunderstand,” the demon said with a knowing grin. “Sanctuary is not a rule, it’s a fact. Here, I’ll demonstrate for you. Excuse me, kids.”

He snapped his wings outward again, beat them once and sailed over the bar and then over their heads (prompting most of them to duck and Fross to dodge), coming to rest nimbly on the bannister. He was wearing a pair of pink trousers of Punaji style, loose and flowing but gathered in tightly at the ankles above his bare feet. Rowe hopped nimbly down to the lower level, the students meandering over curiously to get a better view.

“Hey, Gomblust!” the demon said cheerfully, waving.

In the nearby corner, the hulking ogre slowly turned his great rocky head toward the incubus, blinking his beady little eyes. “Huh?”

“Can you do me a favor, buddy?” Rowe folded his wings again but spread his arms wide, grinning at the ogre. “Kill me!”

Gomblust blinked at him once more, then sighed heavily, emitting an ill-smelling blast of air that disturbed several hats and blew Fross off course. “Again?”

“Oh, c’mon,” Rowe wheedled, “last time, I promise. It’ll be fun!”

“This is not heroic,” the ogre grumbled, shifting to his feet. Amazingly, he could stand up without trouble, though it had looked as if his head brushed the ceiling while he was seated. “Gomblust is supposed to be punching evils, not bartenders.”

“It totally counts! I’m evil! I’m a demon!”

“You are too silly to be evil,” said the ogre. “Fine, fine.”

For such a ponderous creature, he could move fast enough when he wanted. The ogre drew back one of his massive arms and slammed his fist down on Rowe’s head, prompting a startled shriek from Teal and a nearly-as-shrill outcry from Gabriel.

His fist stopped inches from striking the demon; the air shivered where it impacted, rippling like a disturbed pool. Gomblust drew his hand back more slowly, shaking it. “You are a very silly demon, Rowe. Last time!”

“Yup, I think the point is made,” the incubus said brightly. “Thanks, you’re a pal! Next round’s on me!”

“That is not a good favor,” Gomblust muttered, sitting back down with a muted crash. Even his muttering was loud enough to fill the room. “Gomblust is supposed to be on an adventure, not drinking in a bar. Is very good ale, though…” He picked up his barrel again.

“You see, kids,” said Rowe, strolling back up the steps to rejoin them with an almost feminine sway in his hips, “sanctuary is the rule of the house. It’s not my rule; I may call myself the innkeeper, but no matter what I claim to own, I just work here. The Crawl is the final authority, and the Crawl sets this aside as a neutral meeting place. Whatever magics or weapons you wield, whatever gods you can invoke, you will not break sanctuary. Here, the Crawl is the only god, and its rules are absolute.”

He sauntered back around behind the bar, the students staring at him in silence. “Y’see, my little duckies,” Rowe went on, selecting a dusty bottle and pouring a mug full of thick, amber liquid, “there are doors in this inn to many places. It is a place between places, but not a way between places. You follow?”

“Not in the least fucking little bit,” said Ruda.

The incubus laughed. “What I mean is, we get all sorts through here. Some are residents of the Crawl itself. Oh, there are wandering monsters—though that term is extremely relative, as you’ll learn—but there are whole societies of various kinds in the depths. Then again, some enter that door from entirely other realms, stopping in for a drink or to escape their worlds for whatever reason. You can’t get into anybody else’s world, though. Whatever continuum spat you out will suck you back in, when you go through the door. See? A place, but not a way. You can meet people from other realities in the Visage, but not visit them from here.”

“So…” Gabriel frowned. “How many of these people are from the real world?”

“Is a world less real because you don’t live there?” Rowe asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gabriel scowled. “Fine, the world the Crawl is actually in, then?”

The demon shrugged, idly flicking his wings. “The place you’re from… University at Last Rock, yes? Tiraan Empire, Pantheon, Universal Church, Elilial? All that stuff?”

“Yes, that’s us,” said Teal.

The incubus grinned broadly. “Smashing, me too. But who’s to say that’s the world this dungeon is in?”

They all stared at him in silence for a moment, then glanced around at each other.

“I’m reasonably sure it is,” Rowe confided, “but one can never be sure, eh?”

“What about him?” Ruda jerked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating Gomblust the ogre. “How the hell did he even get in here? I mean… You couldn’t even get his fist through that door.”

“You’re in the Crawl, sweet cheeks. There’s exactly as much space as there needs to be. Now then! I hate to rush you along, but if you’re to be staying here, there’s the matter of payment.” He rubbed his hands together, grinning avidly. “You goslings often stagger in here unprepared on your first outing—Arachne’s favorite little joke, as I understand it—so you can pay by the day if you’re strapped for funds. You’d best get to adventuring quickly in that case, though. There’s more than enough treasure in these halls, but only for those willing and able to get out there and bleed for it.”

The students glanced around at each other again; most of their gazes found their way to Professor Ezzaniel.

“No, the University will not be financing your expenses,” he said in a bored tone. “You will find or create such resources as you need to fulfill your quest. That is the point of the exercise.”

“Hey, Professor!” Gabriel said brightly. “As a personal favor, can we borrow—”

“No.”

“Um,” Teal said hesitantly, reaching into her coat pocket, “I don’t suppose you can accept Tiraan bank notes?”

Rowe laughed long and hard at that. “Ah, kiddo, you’re just precious,” he said finally, wiping a tear from his eye. “Seriously, though, where am I going to redeem those? I could maybe use them to start a fire…”

“Ugh, fuck it,” Ruda grumbled, reaching into her own coat pocket. She withdrew a coin and tossed it down on the bar. “If we’re going to be looting treasure, you can repay me out of our first hall. How many days will that buy us?”

“This?” Rowe picked up the coin, squinting at it skeptically. “This isn’t even breakfast, duckie.”

“What?” Ruda yelled, stomping forward and thrusting her face into his. “Are you out of your buttfucking mind? That’s an Imperial decabloon! They don’t make coins more valuable than that!”

“I think you precious little poppets are laboring under some misunderstandings about the economics of this place,” said Rowe, seemingly unfazed by her tirade. “We operate on a sort of barter system here. Sure, gold, jewels, precious metals… Stuff like that has its uses. There are, as I said, functional societies in the Crawl. There’s a whole warren of goblins, as well as several less sociable groups, all of which have an economy of some kind or other. We get drow in here regularly enough I’m pretty sure there’s an opening to the Underworld somewhere near the bottom, though the hell I’m going down there to look. And, of course, there are the odd visitors from other dimensions who are wont to engage in a spot of trade. By and large, though, coins are chiefly valuable as a conveniently carryable, roughly—and I mean very roughly—standardized measurement of gold, which can be melted down and made into other things.”

He held up the decabloon, shifting it slowly back and forth so that it glinted in the torchlight. “This thing here? This is a thin lip of gold surrounding a core of platinum, layered with enchantments to prevent wear and tear—and prevent people counterfeiting or melting it down, which is precisely what we’d need to be able to do to make it valuable. You kids are new, so I won’t take it personally, but for future reference, handing somebody in the Crawl a coin like that is tantamount to telling them where to shove it.” He rolled the coin across his knuckles once, then flicked it at Ruda; she snatched it out of the air, glaring. “You’ve got to get used to thinking in terms of the value of things. What are they good for? That, metal content aside, is like your friend’s bank notes: chiefly valuable in the presence of a large society that agrees it has value.”

Ruda snorted in disgust, stuffing the decabloon back in her coat pocket. When she withdrew her hand again, though, it was full of other coins, which she threw down disdainfully on the bar.

“Oh, now we’re talking!” Rowe said delightedly, sweeping them up. “Punaji gold! Best kind—soft enough to re-cast and verifiably the real thing. Shiny new ones, too! Who’s this guy?” he asked curiously, holding a coin up to the light so he could study the face profiled on it.

“That’d be King Rajakhan, the Blackbeard,” Ruda said dryly. “I gather you don’t see too many of those.”

“Indeed not, my lamb, and for this many you may consider yourselves paid up for the entirety of your stay!” Rowe made the coins vanish into his pants, which was impressive as they had no visible pockets, and made another grand bow at them. “And just to put it on the table, you kids probably don’t have much to trade, but if you’re of a mind to swap that sword, missy, I might just give you the whole damn place.”

“If I give you my sword,” Ruda said quietly, “it’ll be the wrong end of it in your ribs.”

“Not in this bar, you won’t,” Rowe replied with a cheeky grin. “Well, my dears, congratulations! You are officially guests of the Grim Visage.”

“Not him,” said Ruda, pointing at Professor Ezzaniel.

“Excuse me?” the professor said, looking mildly offended.

She grinned nastily at him. “My gold, my rules. You don’t wanna help us pay our way? Hope you brought enough coin for yourself, then.”

Ezzaniel rolled his eyes. “My usual room, please, Rowe. I may have to owe you for the last week or so.”

“Your word’s as good as gold in this bar, Emilio,” the demon replied graciously, then clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “All right! Meals aren’t part of the deal, I’m afraid, but you may not find that onerous. We always have food and drink available; it’s quite easy to ferment stuff, but… As far as food goes, expect variations on a theme of meat, fish and fungus. There are sometimes fruits and vegetables, but you can expect to break the bank on those.” He spread his hands in a shrug, smiling disarmingly. “We serve what there is to be served.”

“Um,” Teal said hesitantly, “what kind of meat would that be?”

“I will answer that question if you truly wish,” Rowe said solemnly, “but understand this, young seeker: knowledge does not bring happiness.”

“We will pass,” Gabriel said firmly. “Embrace the mystery, Teal.”

“If you’re gonna be spending a lot of time out there in the corridors, anyway, you’ll probably find it more cost effective to hunt up your own grub.” Rowe waggled his eyebrows again, leering. “That, by the way, is not a euphemism.”

Gabriel grimaced horribly and turned a plaintive look on Ezzaniel. “Is it too late to go back up top and just take the F?”

“Yes.”

“Let me show you to your new home away from home,” Rowe continued in his cloyingly bright tone. “Sarriki! Come watch the bar!”

The naga quickly appeared from below, carrying her now-empty tray. She appeared to have a little trouble with the stairs, using one hand to pull herself up the bannister and leaning forward in the ascent as though moving against a headwind. Her snake-like lower body was clearly not designed for such footing.

“Yessss, bosss,” she replied with sibilant deference, nodding deeply to Rowe and slithering around behind the bar.

“And stop that hissing,” he said irritably. “Honestly, every time they send down the freshmen! You may think stereotypes are funny, but that kind of crap is why the rest of us can’t hold down a job topside.”

“Aw, let me have my fun,” she pouted, then winked at the students. Her eyes were yellow and slitted like a snake’s.

“Have fun on your own time; just man the bar,” he said with a mock-scowl, then spoiled it by grinning. “All right, my little gumdrops, this way! Follow the handsome and dashing barkeep!”

A few doorways led off from the upper level of the bar, one in the corner with an actual door covering it, the others blocked only by ragged curtains. Rowe let them through the widest of these, his tail waving behind him as he went. The broad staircase beyond twisted slowly but unevenly; where a human-built stairwell would probably form a geometric path, this one seemed to have been repurposed from a natural tunnel. The width of the stairs varied widely, narrowing at one point so much they couldn’t walk two abreast, and the curve was not consistent. A single window was set into one of the walls just out of sight of the lower floor, providing another grim view of the red-tinged cavern. After a relatively short ascent, they emerged into an upper hall.

Once again, the students came to a stop just past the doorway, staring. Behind them, Ezzaniel sighed melodramatically.

“You have got to be shitting me,” said Gabriel.

The space was oddly reminiscent of the upper floor lounge they had occupied in the inn in Lor’naris: a simple square area from which doors branched, leading into bedrooms. This one had a few stone benches set into the walls rather than free-standing chairs, and no window. There was also no table set in the middle of the room.

Instead, there was a bronze statue of Arachne Tellwyrn.

“She’s kind of a big deal around here,” Rowe said cheerfully, “especially these days. I’ll let you know up front that your doors all lock, the locks are all serviceable, and I advise you to use them; management is not responsible for lost or stolen property, and the drow have a tendency to come up here and gawk at the statue. The hell if I know why they care so much.”

“Why do you?” Trissiny demanded. “I mean… Why is this here?”

Rowe shrugged extravagantly, fluttering his wings. “I have no idea. This isn’t my idea of décor; believe me, I can find better uses for this quantity of metal, I assure you. As far as I know, the Crawl put this here.”

Ruda snorted. “That bitch has the weirdest friends.”

“Corner door in the back wall is to the bathroom; I’m afraid you’ll have to share. There’s running water, from a hand-pump, and a stove to heat it. The toilets…well, let’s just say if anybody lives directly below this inn, I’ve never met them and I really hope I never do.” He grinned cheekily, tail waving like a pleased cat’s.

“Lovely,” Toby muttered.

“All hours are pretty much one in a sunless place,” the incubus went on, “but if memory serves, dear Arachne likes to roust you morsels out of your beds at an absurd hour for her little field trips, yes? I’ll just leave you to the rooms, then, if you want to grab some sleep. Don’t worry, they’ll be reserved for you until you check out, but that just means we won’t let anybody else sleep here. I suggest you not leave anything behind that you don’t want strangers pawing through while you’re gone.”

“We don’t have anything to leave behind,” Teal muttered, fingering the lapel of her coat where her Talisman was pinned. “Didn’t even get to bring a change of clothes…”

“It’s positively amazing what you can loot in the Crawl,” Rowe said brightly, already halfway back to the stairs. “Don’t fret, pumpkin, you’ll get by. When you come back down for breakfast, I’ll show you the commercial wing, where you can do some trading, get supplies and sell off whatever scratch you rustle up. For now, kiddies, ta ta!”

Wiggling his fingers flirtatiously, he vanished down the steps, leaving the students staring at each other. Ezzaniel had gone with him without a word.

“I think,” Trissiny said slowly, “we had better be careful about locking our doors, and not just when we’re out.”

“What about the sanctuary thing?” Gabriel asked. He reached out and tried to flick Ruda’s ear; his fingers didn’t connect, deflecting off midair with a tiny ripple of light. “Damn, it’s serious. Also, ow.”

“I’m gonna remember that when we’re out of here,” Ruda said, smirking at him.

“Don’t joke,” Trissiny said sharply. “This is a serious problem.”

“Oh, you and demons,” Gabriel shot back. “Sometimes I think you just don’t feel complete unless you’re condemning somebody. Just because he was born with wings and a tail doesn’t mean he wants to suck out all our blood.”

“Uh, incubi don’t do that,” Fross pointed out.

Trissiny tilted her head slightly, studying Gabriel. “I can’t figure you out, Gabe. Some days you seem full of guilt and self-loathing about being a demonblood, and others it’s like you’re ready to launch a demon rights movement.”

He shrugged irritably, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “It’s a complicated matter. I have complicated feelings about it.”

“Mm. You don’t actually know a thing about demonology, do you?”

“Why would I?” he demanded challengingly.

“Are you serious?”

“His dad was pretty firm about that,” Toby cut in, placing a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Sshitherosz like to target half-demons. The less he was exposed to the whole thing…”

“I can narrate my own backstory, thanks,” Gabriel said, giving him a look.

“Incubi,” Trissiny said loudly, “are reincarnated humans. To begin with, when they died, their souls were denied entry into the divine plane and sent to Hell. That already is a very bad sign; Vidius isn’t exactly stringent. A moderate attempt to live a relatively decent life is generally enough to avoid damnation. Once in Hell, if they survive and manage to thrive despite being incorporeal and subject to enslavement and all manner of abuse by demonic magic-users, the souls eventually gain the attention of Prince Vanislaas, who gives them…” Her lips twisted contemptuously. “A second chance. New bodies, new powers, and a mission to make their way back to the mortal plane and corrupt more humans to swell the ranks of the succubi and incubi. An incubus, Gabriel, is someone who has repeatedly and vigorously proved himself evil of his own choices, demonstrated a considerable skill at being evil, and then been empowered and sent forth for the specific and express purpose of doing evil. They’re not like hethelaxi; they’re not just people who were born in the wrong dimension. The fact that he’s personable and charming makes him more dangerous, not less.”

“Let me just stick my nose in here,” said Ruda. “You know I’m generally on the side of anyone who knows how to have fun, and anyone who’s serving booze, so that’s twice over I’m inclined to think well of Rowe, without even getting into how I hate to encourage Boots when she’s being pompous.”

Trissiny sighed. “Thanks.”

Ruda grinned at her before continuing. “That said, I’ve gotta back her up on this one. Demonology isn’t a big thing in Puna Dara, but I was definitely taught to know and respect the great dangers of the world; I’m gonna lead my people one day and can’t be caught with my pants down. Incubi and succubi are bad fucking news. Like, one even being in the city is officially considered a crisis. We better watch our asses as long as we’re staying in a place where that guy’s in charge.”

A silence fell. Gabriel glanced between Ruda and Trissiny, then at Toby, and finally at the ground, a thoughtful frown covering his face.

“I’m tired,” Juniper said abruptly. They all started; she hadn’t spoken the entire time they’d been in the Grim Visage. The dryad trudged past them, around the statue of Tellwyrn and into the nearest room without bothering to close the door. Moments later there came the soft sound of her flopping down on a bed.

“Well,” said Toby, “that sounds like as good an idea as any.”

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

6 – 3

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

The upper levels of the Crawl were disappointingly plain. The rooms were square, unadorned, and empty, connected by simple doorways. Now and again there would be side rooms whose entrances were covered by iron gates, but Professor Ezzaniel ignored these, leading them through a sequence of chambers cut from the granite of the mountain and lit by occasional torches.

Ezzaniel himself was uncommunicative, to which the students were accustomed; even in class, though he could be quite snide with uncooperative pupils, he did not speak unless he had something in particular to say. The freshmen were mostly too groggy to make conversation anyway, and trooped after him in silence. Fortunately, he seemed to know where he was going. The dungeon thus far seemed more tedious than ominous, but the interconnecting identical square rooms with multiple doors would have been a very effective maze if one did not know the path.

“It’s clean,” said Teal after several minutes. “…too clean.”

Ruda groaned.

“I’m serious! Look, there’s no dust, no cobwebs. No mouse droppings or dead insects… See the torches? No soot marks on the walls or ceiling above them, no ash below. And who’s keeping those burning anyway? This does not look like the kind of place that’s been locked behind a heavy door and metal grate.”

“Maybe Stew cleans in here, too?” Gabriel suggested, half-heartedly smothering a yawn.

Fross chimed excitedly. “The Crawl, like most adventuring dungeons which are classified as such, is a self-regulating genius loci subject to massive magical interference with objective natural law. Among other things, it’s apparently self-cleaning!”

“Can somebody please put that in Tanglish for me?” Gabe asked.

“That was Tanglish!”

“He’s making a joke, Fross,” Teal explained. “It means—”

“I know, I’ve heard that one before. I reject the joke because I was speaking quite plainly and Gabriel is an arcane arts major who really should know all those terms!”

“First, it’s stupid o’clock in the morning and my brain is not awake yet,” said Gabriel irritably. “Second, I’m a first-year arcane arts major and haven’t been putting in nearly as much study time as you apparently have, because I do need sleep, and also a social life.”

“Porking the resident dryad whenever she isn’t too busy does not constitute a social life,” said Ruda, grinning.

“Up yours, Punaji, I have other friends.”

“Who’s porking?” Juniper demanded shrilly. “I haven’t—I would never— The only pork I eat is actual pork! I don’t know where this ‘long pig’ thing got started but I wish people would stop throwing it in my face!”

The group staggered to a stop, everyone staring at her. Ezzaniel got a few paces ahead and paused in the doorway to the next dim chamber, turning to look back at them with a raised eyebrow. Juniper folded her arms defensively around herself, her eyes darting back and forth.

“Oh, what are you all looking at?” she demanded huffily, then turned and stalked off after Ezzaniel. The others trailed after somewhat more slowly.

“Right. Well. Anyway.” Toby cleared his throat. “For those of us who aren’t arcane majors, Fross, can you put it in layman’s terms?”

“Layperson’s terms,” said Gabriel, grinning and nudging Trissiny with his elbow. “Amirite?” She gave him a disdainful look.

“All right, well, I assume you all remember Professor Yornhaldt’s class last semester?” Fross said, buzzing about their heads and casting her glow in erratic patterns around the chamber through which they were passing. “The difference between magical and non-magical physics is the difference between subjective and objective reality. Right? That was our very first lesson.”

“Right,” said Toby when nobody else replied.

“Okay, so! A genius loci is a place that has totally subjective physics! The very rules of reality themselves are completely different there!”

“That is deeply disturbing,” Trissiny muttered, glancing suspiciously around at the apparently empty room through which they were passing.

“So,” Fross nattered on, “it needs two things: an absolutely massive abundance of raw magical energy, and some kind of guiding intelligence. This results in places like the Golden Sea and the Deep Wild, where the rules are just plain different. It’s also the case in the great dungeons.”

“Wait, stop,” said Ruda. “You’re telling me this place is intelligent? Holy fuck. I’m seriously tempted to take the F and bug out.”

“What? You? Run away?” Gabriel turned to grin at her. “And me without my lightcapper.”

“Get fucked, Arquin. I’ll fight anything that lives, but being fucking digested by a giant sentient dungeon… Shit, I wanna go home.” She peered nervously around at the blank walls.

“It’s probably not that bad or Professor Tellwyrn wouldn’t have sent us here,” Fross said consolingly. “I mean, there are intelligences and then there are intelligences, y’know? Generally they don’t even think in anything like the way we do, so it’s not like we could actively communicate. People have tried. And they’re all different! Most of the dungeons are the result of things the Elder Gods did at various times. More recently, there’s Athan’Khar, which is powered by the residue of Tiraan superweapons and the dead souls of all that died there. As far as I know, nobody’s sure who or what is running the Golden Sea or how it happened, but the Deep Wild is Naiya’s domain. So…different rules in all!”

“Right,” said Teal, nodding. She seemed to have become more alert over the course of the discussion. “So the Golden Sea has several predictable rules and doesn’t get nasty unless people try to screw with it, like the centaurs do. Athan’Khar, on the other hand, pretty much wants to kill everyone who sets foot in there. I’m guessing Tellwyrn wouldn’t have sent us in here if the Crawl was quite that hostile?”

“Ex-fucking-cuse me?” Ruda snorted. “Which Tellwyrn are you talking about?”

“Well, this mountain was once the stronghold of an Elder God before another Elder God destroyed it,” Fross said cheerfully. “I don’t figure it’s too friendly. But yeah, students go in here every year and rarely die. We’ll be fine!”

Trissiny sighed loudly.

The group came up short, several of the less attentive colliding with others. Professor Ezzaniel had stopped ahead of them, studying a blank surface of stone.

“Welp,” said Gabriel after a moment. “That sure is a wall.”

“It seems to have shifted again,” Ezzaniel noted. “The upper rooms are usually fairly stable, but the Crawl does like to change things around. No matter, it’s always fairly straightforward before you descend the main stairs. Excuse me.” They made way as he moved back through the group, exiting the way they’d come and turning left in the next chamber.

Lacking anything better to do, the students trooped after him.

“Pardon me, but does this mean you don’t actually know where we’re going?” Gabriel asked.

“I have the basics of an idea,” Ezzaniel said calmly from up ahead, his voice echoing in the semi-lit chamber. “As I said, the upper Crawl is quite benign, and I’m accustomed to it. Incidentally, I will only be guiding you through this initial stretch. Once we reach the actively dangerous areas, you will be responsible for finding your own way.”

“Lovely,” Gabriel groused. “What the hell is the point of all this, anyway? I mean, this is like learning to churn butter by hand. That shit isn’t relevant anymore. Nobody goes dungeon-delving!”

“Gnomes do,” Trissiny noted.

“So does the Empire,” Toby added.

“Right, sure, fine, but that’s because they own all the dungeons! Is anybody here planning to join an Imperial strike team after graduation?” Gabriel divided a pointed look among the rest of them. “Anyone? Yeah, me either. I don’t see what the purpose is of teaching us how to be an adventuring party. This is stupid.”

“Have you shared that opinion with Professor Tellwyrn?” Ezzaniel asked mildly.

“Do I look immolated to you?”

The Professor chuckled. “Arachne, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, is rather more laid back than I in many respects. She doesn’t mind being yelled at, cursed at or even threatened—convenient, as she has a tendency to inspire those responses in people. She would be quite offended if you questioned her intelligence, however. I advise you not to learn firsthand what her offense looks like. Her methods may be confusing, but nothing Arachne Tellwyrn directs you to do is pointless.”

“What could we possibly gain from this?” Gabriel exclaimed. “Hell, five years ago I’d have thought it was the most awesome thing possible, to be on an actual dungeon dive. Okay, yeah, fine, it’s still sort of awesome. But right now I’m more concerned with the fact that I could die and it’d be for no purpose except learning how to have a successful career three hundred years ago.”

“The adventuring party enjoys a prominent place in Tiraan culture and legend, I have observed, and perhaps rightly so,” said Shaeine. “If nothing else, this will be an excellent lesson in teamwork.”

“And in appreciating history!” Teal chimed.

“Bah.” Gabriel stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and slouched sullenly. “Screw this place.”

“Okay, let’s not take it out on the place,” Ruda said nervously. She gently patted the stone frame of a doorway as she passed through it. “Good Crawl? Nice Crawl?”

“The Crawl is an excellent teacher,” Professor Ezzaniel said calmly. “Ah, here we are.”

The last square chamber they had entered had, instead of a wall opposite the door, an opening, from which a wide staircase descended. Two torches bracketed the entrance.

“Well, that’s good and ominous,” said Gabriel.

“Yes,” Ezzaniel said equably, stepping to one side. “All right, in you go. The path from here is quite straightforward. It will lead to the place from which the remainder of the expedition will be launched. You have officially moved beyond needing a guide. Go on, then.”

“Right,” said Trissiny, stepping forward into the gap. One by one, the others followed.

“Should we take the torches?” Toby asked.

“We’ve got Fross,” said Teal. “And several of our group can make light if needed.” She smiled at Shaeine.

“Two of those would harm Gabriel in doing so,” Trissiny pointed out.

“I think we’ll be fine,” Gabe said, trooping down the stairs. They descended just far enough that the topmost step was out of sight of the bottom, then terminated in a square landing and turned left, continuing down. Torches hung at the landing, too, but it grew quite dark near the middle of each flight. “Fross glows normally, Shaeine can make light that won’t hurt me. So can Vadrieny, for that matter.”

“All right,” Fross said briskly as they turned the corner onto the second stretch of steps, “we should discuss our strategy. Trissiny! Sponge or deepsauce?”

“…what?”

The pixie chimed sharply and bobbed twice in the air. “I’m talking about damage. Are you output or mitigation?”

“…what?”

“Uh, Fross,” said Teal, “have you by any chance been reading the old bardic scrolls?”

“Yes I absolutely have!” Fross said excitedly, zooming back to flutter around her. “Professor Tellwyrn likes to change up the timing so it’s a surprise, but there’s always a Crawl expedition in the second semester of the freshman year, so I’ve been studying up to be prepared for weeks now!”

“Uh huh,” Teal said with a smile. “And…you found Findlestin’s glossary of adventuring terminology, didn’t you.”

“Yes! It was very informative!”

“Which edition?”

“Well, all of them, but of course I made sure to study up on the most recent one.”

“Right. Fross, hon, the most recent edition of Findlestin was printed in 1031. It’s a hundred and forty-seven years old.”

“Well… I mean, yes, we all know adventuring parties as a formal institution are kind of outdated…”

“The thing is, if you’re talking about slang—which that stuff was—slang is by definition defined by popular use. If there isn’t any popular use, it’s not slang; it might as well be a foreign language. Nobody’s going to understand it.”

Fross drifted lower till she was fluttering along at about the level of their knees. “But…but…I memorized it. The whole thing.”

“Sorry, little glowbell,” said Ruda. “History isn’t always as useful as Tellwyrn likes to think.”

“That’s okay, though!” the pixie declared, rallying and zooming back up to her usual altitude just about their heads. “I’ll walk you all through it in layman’s—I mean, layperson’s terms, sorry, Trissiny—and we’ll all have it down in no time!”

“Oh,” said Ruda. “Good.”

“So! Trissiny! With regard to inflicting harm,” Fross continued, zipping forward to hover in front of the paladin, “would you consider yourself more of a harm-inflicter or someone who prevents the infliction of harm to herself?”

Trissiny came to a stop, staring at her. From the back of the group, Ezzaniel sighed heavily in exasperation.

“Fross,” Trissiny said after a moment, “what are you talking about? In any kind of fight you have to do both.”

“But this is how they did it! There are dedicated party roles, and—”

“Yeah, that’s really not gonna work,” said Ruda. “Do you not pay attention in Ezzaniel’s class?”

“Of course I do! But this is an adventure, and we’re a party. There’s a system.”

“It’s a hundred-year-old system that nobody uses,” Gabriel pointed out.

“That just isn’t true! Standard operating procedure for Imperial strike teams is based directly on the operating manuals written by the ancient Heroes’ Guild!”

“Imperial strike teams,” said Shaeine, “train for the purpose of operating as a single effective unit, relying on each other to act without the need for thought or communication. It is in a way a more intimate relationship than exists between family. Perhaps the adventuring parties of old operated in a similar manner, but… While I have enjoyed growing closer to each of you over the last several months, I would not consider us to be quite that tightly knit.”

“Shaeine, you have got the greatest knack for understatement I’ve ever heard,” said Ruda.

“Look, Fross,” Toby said firmly, “we appreciate your help, but this isn’t going to be functionally different from the Golden Sea, or Sarasio. We can operate as a unit, up to a point, and we’ve been getting better at it. But…it’ll have to be our way, not the way they did it in old-style adventuring parties.”

Fross let out a long sequence of soft chimes as if sighing heavily. “I’m just saying, they did it that way for a reason, is all.”

“Then be ready to consult on adventuring practices as needed,” said Trissiny, resuming her walk. “For the most part, though, Toby’s right. Better we stick to what we know.”

“So, we bicker and bitch at each other, generally fuck everything up and barely pull it out of the bag at the last minute?”

“That’s very helpful, Ruda, thank you.”

“You got it, roomie, I’m here for you.”

They descended for a good half an hour, the path remaining starkly the same. Left turns at right angles, going consistently downward. The group quickly lost any sense of how far they had gone; Ezzaniel offered no opinions, even when pressed.

“This is awful,” Juniper groaned, plodding along. She had fallen to nearly the rear of the group. “This is worse than the Golden Sea. At least there was life out there. Trees are not meant for hiking!”

“Well, you could try rolling down,” Ruda suggested somewhat snidely. “Logs roll, don’t they?”

“That’s a little insensitive,” Gabriel said with a grin. “A log is basically a tree’s corpse, right?”

“Corpses roll too,” she replied. “Downhill, at least. That is a scientific fact.”

“It’s not a bad idea, though,” the dryad mused, picking up her pace and pushing forward past the others. “Clear the way, please.”

“What’re you…” Trissiny stopped mid-step, her eyes widening. “Juniper, no!”

Disregarding her, Juniper rounded the next corner and hurled herself bodily down the steps, smashing down in a series of thumps and grunts. The others, with various outcries of alarm, rushed down the remainder of the flight they were on, regrouping at the landing to stare anxiously down.

“Juno?” Gabriel called. “You okay?”

“Wow!” At the next landing down, the dryad gathered herself and climbed to her feet, waving up at them. “That was actually fun! You guys have gotta try this! Oh, wait, no…you’d probably get hurt.”

“That’s not how you explore a dungeon,” Fross huffed quietly. “What if she springs a trap?”

“There are no traps up here,” said Professor Ezzaniel. “Still, it might be better if she didn’t—”

“Tallyho!” the dryad shouted, dashing forward and diving face-first down the next flight of stairs.

Trissiny sighed heavily, then raised her voice. “Just don’t get too far ahead!”


 

“I share your grief, Branwen,” the Archpope said, looking and sounding like he meant it sincerely. “I am grateful that you, at least, came through the night’s events uninjured. If you would like to take some time to heal…”

“Thank you, your Holiness,” she said quietly, with a faint tremor in her voice. “It would only be time to…to welter, though. I would rather be at work.”

“As you wish,” Justinian said, nodding. “Should you change your mind, you have only to say so. I’m glad you thought to go to her aid, Antonio.”

“I’m afraid everything was done by the time I got there,” Darling admitted.

“That, though, was beyond your control. It pleases me that you so quickly discerned the nature and motive of the attack and that your first action was to help your fellow Bishop.” The Archpope smiled at him, then turned to the two sitting along the other side of the opulent conference table, his expression growing more solemn. “I have heard the basics of what befell you two, as well, but would you kindly add your reports to Branwen and Antonio’s? It’s best if we are all on the same page.”

“The same pattern,” Andros said curtly. “Three warlocks, in robes. They carried, among other things, those syringes with death-drugs, though none of the three which assaulted my lodge had the opportunity to use them. I was meditating in seclusion, and was late to reach the scene of the confrontation. I was last to the battle and able to finish the remaining two warlocks. They entered my personal chambers and assaulted my wives.”

“Good gods,” Darling exclaimed, straightening up in his chair. “Are they all right?”

“They are recuperating,” Andros replied, smiling with such fierce pride that it was visible even through his heavy beard. “The healers tell me they will not bear permanent injury, though they are being given time to mend the various bruises of the battle. It is a common misconception among infidels that because Shaathist women are obedient, they are also weak. Nothing could be further from the truth.” He angled his head defiantly, as if to stare down his nose at the world. “There is neither honor nor satisfaction in dominating a dishrag.”

“I’m glad to hear that, at least,” said Darling. “Though let’s refrain from throwing the i-word around in mixed ecclesiastical company, yes?”

Andros grunted, which was likely as close to acquiescence as he was likely to get.

“Same here,” Basra said. “Three of them in standard Wreath robes. I was hosting the two Legion cadets I’m sponsoring at my residence that evening. I’m afraid they were both roughed up a bit in the action, too, but it was thanks to Elwick that things didn’t go a lot worse. The girl has a great deal of exposure to demons, and gave us warning that something was coming.”

Andros turned to her, scowling. “And just why does a Silver Legion cadet have great exposure to demons?”

“You remember events at Hamlet, I trust?” Basra said, giving him an unpleasantly cloying smile.

“Of course,” he growled. “It’s no stretch of the imagination to deduce that’s the cause of this attack.”

“Well, as you may recall, we appropriated several of the Wreath cultists’ children in the course of that. I’ve given the girl sponsorship in the Legions; she’s training with the Third right now. Elwick is actually quite promising; she’s certainly eager to put the errors of her upbringing behind her.”

“How fortuitous,” Darling murmured, wondering what Basra was up to. It was hardly like her to support the careers of others out of the goodness of her heart. Of course, there was also the question of what she was doing with two young girls at her home at four in the morning—girls whom she held in a vulnerable, subordinate position. At the intersection of both questions was a possibility; he made a mental note to find out whether she lived up to the Legionnaire stereotype with regard to her personal preferences.

“Indeed,” the Archpope intoned, looking directly at him. “Antonio, I suspect that your mind has brought you to the same conclusions at which I have arrived. I wonder if you would share with us your assessment of the Wreath’s motivations?”

“Of course, your Holiness,” Darling said, folding his hands on the tabletop and frowning thoughtfully. “To begin with… I think they won this round.”

“Won? Are you mad?” Andros snorted. “We slaughtered their entire attacking force with only one casualty, and none of their primary targets suffered harm!”

Darling was shaking his head before he finished speaking. “Think about who we’re dealing with, Andros. The Black Wreath serve the goddess of cunning; like all our cults, they take the aspect of their deity as their primary virtue. If this is in response to Hamlet, they’ve had months to study us, lay plans and make preparations. And you really think the result of all that would be a haphazard, half-hearted brute force attack? No… Killing the four of us was not the motive.”

“Whatever you think they were up to, they squandered the lives of twelve magic users to do it,” said Basra, frowning. “They either considered this hugely important or they’ve got a lot more personnel to draw upon than we realized.”

“Those are questions to which we can’t know the answers, I’m afraid,” said Darling.

“What is it you think they were after, then?”

“Think about what they did, or tried to do. Where they directed their efforts. Andros’s wives, Branwen’s servant and friend, Basra’s proteges. I have two live-in apprentices and a convalescing acquaintance at my home; I think they would have been the targets had my Butler not intercepted the Wreath at the door. And you two haven’t mentioned it, but I noted that at both my place and Branwen’s they used the front door.” He shook his head again. “This wasn’t an assassination. This was a provocation. They want us hurt, angry, and striking back.”

There was a brief silence while they all digested this.

“That, indeed, is how the matter appears to me,” Justinian agreed after a moment. “I’m glad to see I wasn’t alone in coming to that conclusion. It raises the very tricky question of what we must do now, however.”

“The obvious thing would be not to give them what they want,” Andros rumbled, “but in dealing with the Wreath, the obvious course is seldom the right one.”

“And that’s why I think they’ve got us good and proper, this time,” said Darling. He reached over to squeeze Branwen’s hand. “The Izarites aren’t interested in revenge, but the rest of our cults are another matter. The Sisters, the Guild and the Huntsmen will not take this lying down—and to be honest, we couldn’t make them even if we wanted to. It’s about to be all-out war on the Wreath.”

“In the streets of Tiraas,” Branwen murmured, visibly appalled.

“A witch hunt of the worst kind,” the Archpope agreed. “I can and will enforce moderation in the Church’s response, but you are right: the independent cults are beyond my control, and those three at least are not tolerant of such brazen affronts.”

“What could they possibly gain by calling down all that wrath on their own heads?” Basra exclaimed.

“I very much fear we’re about to find out,” said Darling. “The pertinent question is: what do we, the four of us, do? We’re in a dicey position; right at the center of this and tied to both the Church and our cults. We can’t really afford to break with either. Both we and whichever organization we sided against would lose face right when we need it most.”

“That can be mitigated by the nature of the Church’s response,” said Justinian, “which, I assure you, will be suitably nuanced. You will have my full support in this matter. As for what we are to do…” He drummed his fingers once on the tabletop, the ring of his office flashing in the light. “For the time being, we must wait and see what the Wreath is up to, along with the rest of the world. That does not mean we shall proceed blindly. In the first place, we will play along.”

“It is sometimes necessary to step into a trap,” Andros agreed, nodding. “The outcome may not be as the trapper wishes, if the prey knows it is there.”

“Just so,” said Justinian, then smiled. “And while we are allowing ourselves to be victimized by the Wreath’s plan… I believe there is a way we can use it.”


 

“Juniper,” Trissiny said, “don’t try to roll down these steps.”

“Well, obviously,” the dryad said reasonably. “I could fall!”

“Astute as always,” Ruda muttered.

It had been more than an hour of walking, and they were all sore in the legs and even more tired than when they had started out; unless the internal geography of the Crawl was truly unhinged—which was apparently not impossible—they were well below the surface of the prairie by this point. Professor Ezzaniel had refused to let them stop for a rest, insisting that the perfect place to do so was up ahead. No one had argued too strenuously, as what they wanted was breakfast, and no one had any food.

Now, they appeared to have reached their destination, or nearly so. The angular, spiraling staircase terminated into a truly vast open space, the size of a stadium in diameter and plunging down an impossible distance. Above were vaguely-glimpsed stalactites in a shadowed ceiling vastly far away; the floor of the cavern, if there was one, was too far down to be visible, but whatever was down there emitted a reddish glow that sullenly lit up the whole chamber. It wasn’t a vertical shaft, either; it plunged at a roughly forty-five degree angle. Almost as if it had been vertical before the mountain was sunk.

Directly from their feet descended another staircase, this one half as broad as the wide ones they had traveled thus far, and arching unsupported across a horrifying stretch of space. There were, of course, no guardrails. Similar stairs could be seen both above and below their level, going to and from points they could not discern. The steps before them ended in the far wall, in which a massive stone head at least four stories in height had been carved into the rock, angled so that it stood upright. The steps ran straight to its open mouth.

“All right, we should check for traps before proceeding,” Fross declared. “I have a statistical divination spell that can randomize outcomes on a scale of twenty reference points corresponding to magical threat levels. Once I code in the variables we’re checking for, it should warn us of any traps within an acceptable margin of error. This’ll just take a second.”

“Fross,” Gabriel said impatiently, “I may not be up to your study habits but even I know the Gygax Charm hasn’t been used in decades. Modern divinations are vastly more accurate.”

“It’s traditional!”

“There are no traps,” Professor Ezzaniel said wearily from behind them. “There will be no traps, nor enemies, until you have proceeded beyond what lies at the bottom of these steps. For heaven’s sake, students, get on with it. And watch where you put your feet.”

“You’re good with levitation spells, right, Fross?” Trissiny asked.

“Well, of course! That’s how I mostly interact with the world. You’d be amazed how much picking up of stuff is necessary in human society! Well, I mean, you would if you’d never actually thought about it, which I’ve noticed most of you haven’t. Uh, no offense.”

“None taken,” the paladin said gravely. “We’re all going to step carefully, but I need you to watch over the group and catch anybody if they fall.”

“Oh!” Fross zipped back and forth in excitement. “I can do that!”

“Good. All right, everyone…single file. I know it’s not that narrow, but let’s take no risks.”

She set off down the stairs, the others falling into line behind her.

The staircase was indeed broad enough that any of them could have laid down on the steps and neither their heads nor feet would have come near the edge. However, given the lack of rails and the staggering heights involved, it was still a nerve-wracking descent.

“What d’you suppose is down there?” Gabriel asked about halfway down. “Lava?”

“Can’t be,” said Toby. “The heat would whoosh up this shaft and cook us right where we stand.”

“Shut. The fuck. Up,” Ruda growled.

Trissiny stepped onto the small landing below the gloomy face’s nose with relief. In addition to being off those infernal stairs, from this vantage she didn’t have to see that huge thing scowling at them. The others clustered around her, several with soft sighs mirroring her reaction.

The face’s open mouth formed a short tunnel; set into the wall just in front of the was a wooden door with an iron latch. Next to it hung a sign, in Tanglish.

“The Grim Visage,” Teal read. “Well, it certainly is that.”

“Care to give us a hint on what lies ahead, Professor?” Toby suggested.

“Yes,” said Ezzaniel, deadpan. “If you open the door, you will find out.”

“This is gonna be one of those trips, isn’t it,” Ruda muttered.

Trissiny clenched her jaw, grasped the handle and pulled the door open. She stepped cautiously through, moving forward enough to give the others room to enter. They did so slowly, fanning out in a cluster just inside the door.

They found themselves in a room full of monsters.

An ogre sat in the far corner, his head brushing the ceiling even sitting down, clutching a barrel from which he drank like a pint glass. Near the door, three drow were clustered around a table, two women and a man; to judge by their “armor,” which was flattering but more decorative than functional, and the matching unpleasant grins they gave the students, they weren’t Narisian. A small group of gnomes were playing cards near a roaring hearth, two goblins were arm wrestling the next table over, and at the far end of the room, behind a bar, stood an improbably pretty man with pale skin and no shirt on. He grinned at the sight of the students, stretching spiny incubus wings. As they stood there staring, a naga slithered past them, carrying a tray of mugs.

The occupants of the room looked up at the new arrivals, and then mostly went right back to their drinks, games and conversations.

“Why is it,” Gabriel asked after a moment’s silence, “that wherever we go, we end up in some kind of bar?”

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

6 – 2

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

The lock was no more than a formality; it had never needed to be. No one skilled in the bypassing of locks would have attempted to break through this particular one. As such, the soft scratching of lock picks at work went on for a fairly short time before the tumbler gave, the latch turned and the door was pulled silently open.

It was so late it was early; well beyond midnight, the first gray lightening of dawn not yet visible, but not far off. There were lights in the street, but they were dim and far apart, the residents of this neighborhood preferring that their rest not be disturbed overmuch by the omnipresent glow of Tiraas. The three figures who entered were barely silhouetted against the gloom outside, and all but vanished in their gray robes when they pulled the door shut behind themselves. Stepping warily, tense and as silent as they could manage, they passed through the foyer and into the hall, spreading out to fill the narrow space and studying their surroundings. Moonlight streamed in through upper windows in the tall space, which rose a full two stories. The hall was cast in a faint glow, pale, but adequate for human eyes.

Behind them, the relatively narrow space separating the hall from the foyer was narrowed still further by decorative molding just above head height. It was still a considerable gap, however; Price’s legs were spread widely, one foot braced against each inch-wide ledge. She studied the intruders dispassionately as they passed beneath, then lifted herself lightly by the toes, snapped her legs together and dropped to the ground.

Between her cat-like landing and the construction of her shoes, one of the Service Society’s trade secrets, she landed in total silence, behind the oblivious trio.

“Good morning, gentlemen.”

They whirled to face her, and the two on either side immediately fell, gurgling and gasping, with throwing knives embedded in their throats. The man in the center wasted seconds staring in shock, which cost him dearly.

Price launched herself forward, and belatedly he reacted, throwing up a hand. Enormous whip-like black tendrils lashed out from within his sleeve, limned by a sickly purple glow. She changed course mid-run, kicking off the wall to the opposite side of the hall. The demonic tentacles followed, but remained always an instant behind her, tied as they were to the reflexes of the caster. They smashed against the wall just after she bounced off it, then again on the opposite side, crushing glossy wood paneling and shredding wallpaper, and then the Butler was upon the warlock.

Launching herself off the wall from mere steps away, she grabbed the collar of his robes with both hands and flipped over him, somersaulting in midair to plant both feet against his back and kick, shoving herself forward and sending him tumbling face-first to the floor, his magical weapons vanishing instantly. Price landed in a smooth roll and was immediately on her feet again, whirling to face the fallen warlock.

Much less gracefully, he scrambled over onto his back, throwing out his hand desperately in her direction.

As he tried to call up his tentacle spell again, the charm she had planted on his collar erupted. A multilayered thing, it unleashed a blast of pure divine energy, cutting off his spell and slamming him to the ground, and also laid a light fae blessing over him. Neither was powerful enough to hold on its own, at least not for long, but it was plenty adequate to put a warlock momentarily out of commission.

“Now, then,” Price said evenly, “we can discuss the matter of who sent you.”

“T-tell you nothing,” the warlock rasped, scrambling backward from her in a desperate crab-walk.

Two slim figures burst out of the side hall, skidding to a stop at Price’s peremptorily upheld hand. Ignoring Flora and Fauna, she stepped forward between the two slain warlocks, bearing down on their last companion.

“As I hope you are aware, when I have finished you will converse avidly on any subject I choose to raise,” she said calmly. “Your only input shall be into what transpires before we reach that point.”

He came up against the wall, pressing his robed hands together before him and glaring up at her. “Have your little victory, then! It doesn’t matter. A great doom is coming, whether you are ready for it or not!”

“You are not, one presumes, referring to yourself,” Price said, raising one eyebrow sardonically.

Joe came staggering in, wearing a long nightshirt but with a wand in each hand. Flora and Fauna grabbed him from either side before he could bring up his weapons.

Price paused, tilting her head to study the felled warlock as he began to convulse. In seconds, he had actually begun frothing at the mouth.

“Ah,” she said. “Dear me.”

The Butler knelt and pried the man’s hands apart, revealing a brass-bound syringe pressed into his wrist, the plunger fully depressed and its contents emptied.

“Too late?” Darling asked, striding down the stairs.

“Indeed, sir,” she said. “My apologies. This device matches the description from the Tellwyrn incident in Hamlet.”

“Hm,” he noted, coming to a stop between the three youths and the three slain warlocks. The last one’s convulsions were already trailing off. Darling wore a hastily-donned robe over his silk pajamas; his feet were bare and the condition of his hair suggested recent proximity to a pillow. He seemed fully awake and alert, however. “Drat. I liked them better when they were too chicken to carry suicide measures.”

“This sorta thing happen often?” Joe asked carefully.

“Not in the least,” said the Bishop, shaking his head. “These numbnuts just declared war on the Thieves’ Guild, coming here; that’s not a mistake anyone’s ever made twice. It’s pretty alarming. The Black Wreath hasn’t openly scrapped with the Guild in centuries. Why now?”

Price discreetly cleared her throat. “If I may, your Grace, they did not approach the Guild itself. I believe you identified yourself to a representative of theirs in Hamlet, suggesting you were on Imperial business?”

“Yes,” he said slowly, frowning. “That was months ago, though… But if they’re finally aiming to clean up that loose end, the others would also…” His eyes widened, a quick calculation taking place behind them. “Oh, gods, Branwen.”

“We can help!” Fauna said eagerly.

“Just tell us where to go,” Flora added.

“Right. Yes.” Darling whirled to face them. “Split up. One of you go to the Casino, one to the Cathedral. Let the Guild and the Church know what’s happened here. Approach carefully; if the Wreath is attacking them, too, do not engage. Come back here in that event and secure the house.”

Their faces fell. “But we can help—”

“I know you can handle yourselves,” he said, adding pointedly, “You can help by not placing yourself in a position where anyone has to see how well you can handle yourselves. Clear?”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused somewhat glumly, but both turned and strode off to their rooms to get dressed.

“Ah,” Joe said tentatively, reflexively making awkward motions at his sides as he attempted to holster his wands in sheathes that weren’t there, “anything I can do?”

“Back to bed,” Darling ordered, already moving toward the front door. “You’re still disabled.”

“I’m practically as good as new,” Joe said somewhat rebelliously.

“Kid, you’re ready for action when that mother hen of a Crow declares you are. That way, nobody gets turned into a newt. If you can’t sleep, help Price and keep an eye on the house. I’ve gotta get to Bishop Snowe’s house, and pray I’m not too late…”

“Your Grace,” Price said pointedly, “if this attack was carried out with the Wreath’s characteristic forethought, and the other Bishops were indeed targets, the strikes are likely to have been simultaneous. You are very unlikely to reach Bishop Snowe before any putative warlocks.”

“Yes,” he said impatiently, his hand on the latch. “All the more reason—”

“All the more reason,” she interrupted firmly, “to take the time to approach carefully. Beginning, perhaps, by putting on shoes.”

Darling sighed heavily in annoyance.

“I merely suggest, of course,” Price said humbly. “If your Grace wishes to do battle with the Black Wreath without pants on, that is your Grace’s prerogative. Doubtless they will find it tremendously amusing.”

“You are severely annoying when you’re right, Price,” he said curtly, turning and stomping past her toward the stairs, peevishly kicking one of the slain warlocks as he went by.

“Yes, sir,” she said calmly, folding her hands behind her back and watching him go. Joe, wisely, had retreated down the hall toward his own room in search of clothes.

Alone with the bodies, Price surveyed the hall, finally permitting herself a small frown of annoyance as she studied the shattered wall paneling.

“I just polished that.”


 

“She’s insane,” Gabriel mumbled around a yawn. “What freaking time is it, anyway?”

“Approximately one minute later than the last time you asked,” said Toby with a smile.

“But why here?” he whined, yawning again as he tugged open the heavy front doors. “Why now? And why couldn’t she have just told us to be up early? And for fuck’s sake, why does she have to wake people up that way?! I don’t care if it was an illusion, I swear I’ve got water in my shoes.”

“Gabe, I realize you’re not exactly at your best right now, but stop and consider that you’re asking why Professor Tellwyrn does what she does. Do you really expect to get anywhere with that?”

“Crazy,” Gabriel groused, stepping into the library and leaving Toby to catch the door on his own way in. “I expect to get crazy. It’ll be a nice change from sleep-deprived.”

“And I see we’re last to the party as usual,” Toby said amiably, waving at those assembled in the main entryway. “Morning, ladies.”

“It’s not morning until there’s sun, for the record,” Teal grumbled. “G’night, Toby.”

“I’ve been here all night!” Fross said brightly. “It’s a great time to get some out-of-class research done. Nobody bothers me.”

“That’s because we need sleep,” Gabriel moaned.

“Yes, I know! I have kind of an unfair advantage, which I sometimes feel a little guilty about, but it’s not like I can help it. If you want, Gabe, I can help you study any time! We’re in the same degree program, after all!”

“I’ll file that away for grah!” Catching sight of the figure that had just appeared behind the receptionist’s desk, he stumbled backward against the doors, apparently coming fully awake in a wide-eyed panic. “What the hell is that?!”

“Tellwyrn’s experimental golem,” said Ruda, who was lounging in one of the reading chairs, sipping from a bottle of bourbon.

“She has a name,” Fross said reproachfully. “Hello, Crystal!”

“Good morning, Fross,” the golem said politely. At first glance, she resembled a slim woman in elaborate armor, if the armor in question were banded in gold, embossed with arcane runes and inset with pale blue crystals. It didn’t add the bulk that armor would have, though, but outlined her own slight frame, a metal suit of skin. From the gaps at the joints, muted blue light streamed out, occasional puffs of mist emerging when she moved. Her face was an eerily lifelike but expressionless steel mask, its eyes empty holes opening onto an intense blue glow. “Good morning, students. May I help you find anything?”

“I don’t think so,” said Trissiny, who looked more alert than most of her classmates. “Professor Tellwyrn told us to meet her here.”

“Ah, very good,” Crystal replied.

“What’s she doing here?” Gabriel stage-whispered.

“She’s the head librarian now,” Fross replied. “And really, you can talk to her yourself, she’s right there. You’re being rude, Gabe.”

“Sorry,” he said with a grimace, then turned to Crystal and repeated himself. “Uh, sorry. I was just…startled.”

“It’s quite all right,” the golem replied. “I expect there will be an acclimation period. It has already extended further than I had calculated. My initial data seems to have been in error.”

“What happened to Grumpypants McPonytail?” Toby asked.

“Weaver?” Fross fluttered in a circle around his head. “He’s been gone for weeks. Seriously, how have you not noticed this before now?”

“We try to stay out of the library,” said Gabe, grimacing.

“But—but—but you’re university students! You need to use the library!”

“We need to stay away from that crankety-ass freak, is what,” Gabe replied. “Although if he’s gone, I’ll probably start spending more time here. Why does nobody ever tell me anything?”

“Combination of factors, really,” said Ruda, beginning to tick off points on her fingers. “We don’t think about you when you’re not here, you’re not all that important, nobody likes you…”

“That’s playing a little rough, Ruda,” Trissiny said, frowning.

Her roommate snorted loudly. “Oh, come on. You tried to kill him.”

“I think you lost the right to throw that at me when you stabbed him!”

“I just love my life,” Gabriel said to no one in particular.

“What did happen to Weaver?” Toby asked hastily.

“He felt the call of adventure!” Fross proclaimed.

There was a moment of silence as they all stared at her.

“What does that mean?” Juniper asked finally.

“I don’t know,” the pixie admitted. “That’s what Professor Tellwyrn said when I asked her. And then she laughed. You know that kind of mean laugh, like when somebody says something silly in class and she spends five minutes making fun of them?”

They all nodded in unison.

“Mr. Weaver is on indefinite sabbatical,” Crystal said into the silence. “And I am detecting a buildup of translocative arcane energy focused on this spot, characteristic of a scrying spell and minor dimensional fold, so I infer you are—”

They never got to hear the rest, as with a sharp pop the scenery changed.

The students dropped about half a foot to the grass—except Fross, of course—with varying degrees of grace. Ruda landed on her butt, cursing; Teal had to flail her arms for balance until Shaeine steadied her. Gabriel very nearly fell over sideways.

“Goddammit!” he shouted. “Why? Why must you do that?”

“Three reasons,” Professor Tellwyrn said brightly. “It’s the most efficient way to get around, it serves the purpose of protecting the surprise, and your suffering amuses me. Note, Arquin, that that was not a plural ‘your.’ Nobody else suffers with quite the distinctive self-pity you have. It’s inspiring, really.”

“I hate you.”

“I don’t care,” she said, still cheerfully. “Good morning, students, and welcome to your midterm test!”

“Why are we on the quad?” Toby asked, peering around.

“Because I just teleported you here. You’re not at your quickest first thing in the morning, are you, Mr. Caine?”

“I wonder what would happen if we all rushed her?” Trissiny asked grimly.

“Fuck that, I’ve had enough pain in my ass already today without getting teleported into the sun,” Ruda grumbled, discreetly rubbing her bum.

“As for why I asked you to meet up at the library,” Tellwyrn continued, “you might say it’s tradition. I like to send the kids off on their freshman delve as unprepared as possible, so as to simulate the real conditions faced by your adventuring forebears, which were often woefully spontaneous. Thus, a cheap and simple misdirection. Your goal is in there.”

She turned and pointed to the wooden gates set into the terrace wall opposite the gazebo, beside which they stood. On command, they swung outward with a hideous groan of hinges badly in need of oiling. Behind that was an iron portcullis, which slid into the ground almost as soon as it was revealed, leaving nothing between them and a broad stone staircase down into darkness.

“That’s the Crawl,” Ruda said softly.

Tellwyrn rolled her eyes. “You kids really aren’t at your best without your precious beauty sleep, are you? Yes, Miss Punaji, that is the Crawl. Any other blindingly obvious observations you’d like to share with the class?”

“In a few hours,” said Ruda, “the sun will rise, I’ll have breakfast, and at some point after that I’ll begin to care what the fuck you think. Meanwhile, you can shove it sideways.”

“All right, enough folderol,” Tellwyrn went on more briskly. “Professor Ezzaniel will be your accompanying faculty member on this excursion. Rafe usually does the freshman delve, but I try not to inflict him on a class more than once a year if I can help it. Also, after he stuck his fingers into your Golden Sea excursion, I’ve lost some faith in his objectivity. Ezzaniel, at least, I can trust to leave you all to die if that’s what you deserve.”

Professor Ezzaniel, who had been standing behind her so quietly they hadn’t even noticed him in the dimness, stepped forward, raising an eyebrow and glancing at Tellwyrn after that last remark. He was in his usual open-collared suit, with his customary saber belted at his waist and a simple knapsack flung over one shoulder. It was a plain leather affair, not the enchanted carpet bag in which he kept the practice weapons for their martial arts class.

“Your assignment,” Tellwyrn continued, “is to retrieve a treasure from below. It is a rectangular wooden chest, bound in brass and embossed with floral patterns, in which reside a matched sword and dagger set of elven make. Professor Ezzaniel will be along to observe; he will not aid you or interfere in your actions. It is upon his observations that I will determine your grade. Actually retrieving the chest is not essential; most freshman groups don’t. The last party which succeeded was nine years ago; this particular treasure has been down there for that long. If you do manage to fetch it back, though, the group gets an automatic A on the exercise, which will comprise a substantial chunk of your grade for the semester, and the individual who gets it gets to keep it.”

“A sword and dagger?” Gabriel scoffed. “Sounds like a consolation prize.”

“Those were my personal weapons for a good many years,” Tellwyrn said, giving him a long look. “They are older than the Empire and heavily enchanted. If none of that impresses you, Arquin—and based on your performance in combat class, I rather suspect it won’t—if you get your hands on those, you can quite possibly buy your way into the nobility.”

“Always did enjoy getting consolation prizes,” he said thoughtfully.

“Hang on,” Trissiny protested. “We don’t have any supplies! No food, no equipment, only Ruda and I have weapons…”

“Yes, Avelea, that’s the point,” Tellwyrn said patiently. “As I explained moments ago. You’ll find the Crawl an exemplary arbiter of fates. If you are intelligent, if you deserve to survive, it will provide more than adequately for you. If not, it’ll see to it you meet whatever end most befits you. All right! You have three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” Teal demanded, wide-eyed.

“Three weeks,” said Tellwyrn. “Good gods, you kids are like an echo today. You can come back as soon as you get the sword and dagger, but if you haven’t got them in three weeks, your Professor will call short the assignment and lead you back to the surface. All right, that’s more than adequate jibber-jabber. Begin!”

She smirked, snapped her fingers, and vanished with a quiet pop.

“I think we shoulda rushed her,” Gabriel mused.

Professor Ezzaniel cleared his throat. “Come along, then, students,” he said, and with no more ado strode into the darkness of the Crawl.

There was nothing left for them to do but follow him.


 

Naturally, he didn’t approach the house head-on. The open front door would have warned him away, if nothing else. Luckily, Branwen’s neighborhood—a wealthier one even than his own—gave him plenty of above-ground territory on which to prowl, and the elaborate houses on all sides were easily climbable. There was only one close enough to her house to be worth the trouble of ascending, but the gardens had suitably high walls separating the lots. It was from the top of this structure that he got his first glimpse into Branwen’s own sprawling garden, positioned behind her house, and determined it was safe to descend.

Darling landed deftly in a leafy bush, which would have been very uncomfortable for some, but he had long since mastered the knack. Brushing leaves from his coat, he carefully paced forward, studying the surrounding carnage. Blood spattered the walkway, with here and there pieces of bodies. They weren’t too widely distributed; he could mentally piece them together easily enough to determine that there were three of the robed figures, just as there had been at his house.

Branwen sat silently on the stone lip of a reflecting pool, a fourth body pulled half into her lap. It was of an older woman, looking almost asleep from the waist up. Her legs were crushed, mangled completely, and a veritable pond of blood surrounded the pair. Branwen gazed vacantly down at the woman, stroking her white hair with one hand.

“Branwen?” he asked quietly, creeping closer.

“Tieris has been with my family her whole life,” the Izarite said quietly. “She practically raised me. It’s so…absurd. It just seemed she would always be there.”

“Bran, I’m so sorry,” he said, carefully seating himself beside her.

“You too, then,” she murmured. “…thank you for thinking of me, Antonio. You should have gone to help the others, though.”

Darling frowned. “I—Bas and Andros? Well, they’re both surrounded by cult members. I know you were out here alone…”

“And you thought I was helpless and useless and would need rescue,” she said. There was no emotion in her voice, only a deep exhaustion.

“Branwen…”

“It wasn’t a complaint. You think what I want you to think. So does everyone else.” She reached behind her to trail her fingers through the water.

Something rose up from within.

Darling bounded to his feet and danced backward, staring. The creature that crawled, dripping, out of the pool was the size of an alligator and had a head shaped very like one, though its scaled body was more like a bulldog’s in proportion. Steam rose from its flaring nostrils.

They were mistakenly called hellhounds, by people who had never seen a real hellhound. Kankhradahg demons were favored tools of the Black Wreath: easily summoned, easily controlled, and not intelligent enough to be rebellious. Usually.

Branwen scratched the demon under its chin; it closed its red eyes, beginning to purr softly.

“Wreath summoners don’t always take good care of their charges,” she said in that same dull tone. “Their victims, really. This fellow wasn’t treated well at all. It just took a little persuasion, and just the right kind of blessing to break his former master’s control…”

“That’s…impressive,” Darling said carefully, keeping his eyes on the apparently contented demon. Gods, she had her delicate little hand just inches from those teeth…

“This is about Hamlet, isn’t it? Only reason they would do something like this, antagonize our cults and the Church this way. You should have gone to the others, Antonio. Those who came here underestimated me. Whatever they sent at the Huntsman and the Legionnaire will be intended to finish off more powerful targets.”

“Well,” he said after a moment, “I suppose you’re not wrong. Unfortunately it’s a little late now.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “What will be, will be. Looks like we won.”

Branwen gathered up the body of her servant in her arms, leaning over her, and finally began to weep.

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

5 – 30

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >

He couldn’t remember if he dreamed. The next thing he was conscious of was her face again, swimming into focus above him. It was a few seconds before he realized he’d actually opened his eyes.

The focusing continued, however, the haze on all sides resolving into the dim light of a room with its curtains half-drawn, and her face changed till it wasn’t her. The features shifted, the hair faded to black. Mary.

“Wh—!” Memory crashed down on Joe and he tried to sit upright. He was in a bed, drowning in pillows. “Is everyone—”

Mary planted a hand in the middle of his chest, gently preventing him from rising. “Everyone is fine,” she said soothingly, “with the possible exception of you. Be easy, Joseph, and take your time. There is no urgency. Decide how you feel and what you feel ready to do about it.”

He paused, slumping backward, and she removed her hand. “I feel…weak,” he said grudgingly after a few moments of following her advice. “And restless, but sleepy.”

“Not uncommon, after having been in bed as long as you have,” she said with a glimmer of amusement. “The weakness—”

“Joe!”

Apparently, the door had been left open; at any rate, Billie didn’t need to push through it before bounding onto a nearby chair and hurling herself bodily at Joe, arms outflung for a hug. Mary snagged her by the back of her shirt, holding the struggling gnome bodily off the ground.

“Do not assault my patient, please,” she said firmly.

“Unhand me, y’great bully!”

“Hi, Billie,” Joe said with a smile.

“Hey, you’re up!” McGraw appeared in the doorway, grinning, then stepped inside, admitting Weaver behind him. “It is damn good to see you alert again, son. You had us right worried.”

“I’m glad to see all of you, too,” said Joe, while Mary set Billie down on the floor with a murmured warning. “But what happened? Last thing I remember…” He trailed off, and swallowed heavily. “Well, it was no fun, and it left me with a good few questions. For starters, where are we?”

“You’re at my house,” said the newest arrival, poking his blond head in. Bishop Darling wore a conservative suit rather than his ecclesiastical robes, and seemed more relaxed than when Joe had previously seen him. “Which, by the way, you may consider your own until you’re back on your feet. I, uh, think you’ll find the room a lot more comfortable when it’s a lot less populated.” Indeed, it was suddenly quite cramped in the modest bedroom, but Joe didn’t spare a moment’s attention for that.

“What? We’re in Tiraas? But… You’re not supposed to move injured people by Rail. Unless…” He began trying to sit up again. “How long was I out?!”

“One day,” Mary said quietly, this time helping him up and arranging the pillows behind him for support. He needed it; it was hard to breathe, and the act of getting his torso upright wiped him out. “And we did not travel by Rail. McGraw brought us here via magic.”

“Really?” Joe turned his gaze to the old wizard. “You can do that?”

“There are exactly two places in the world to which I can teleport five people,” said McGraw, “and one is the Wizards’ Guild sanctum here in Tiraas. They’ve got a permanent portal focus on a major ley line nexus, to which all initiates are attuned.”

“You shoulda seen their faces when we all popped in,” Billie said, grinning. “Someday I wanna do that again when I don’t have a partner bleeding to death on the floor so I can properly enjoy it.”

“I really can’t tell you how relieved I am you’re comin’ through,” McGraw added solemnly. “I was right there, so busy catchin’ my breath I had no idea anything’d happened until that guy spoke. And then… Well, he was gone before I could even get a proper look, and there wasn’t a thing I could do for you. I’ve seldom felt so useless.”

“Despite our assurances that he wasn’t at fault, McGraw has seen fit to give himself a bad case of mana fatigue in getting us back here so expeditiously,” said Mary, a portrait of calm. “Portal nexus or no, that five-person teleport coming on the heels of his exertions in the crater had its price.”

“Are you okay?” Joe asked the old man worriedly.

McGraw waved a hand. “Feh, few weeks’ rest and I’ll be good as new.”

“Mana fatigue is a minor ailment,” Mary said, “provided the patient refrains from using magic until his system recuperates. Otherwise, he risks triggering a variety of permanent degenerative conditions, including anemia, hemophilia, diabetes, autoimmune dysfunction—”

“Lady, I know what the risks are,” McGraw said patiently.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “I have observed that men usually benefit from being reminded of the risks, whether they theoretically know them or not. Which brings us back to my other patient.” She gently smoothed Joe’s hair back from his forehead, an almost motherly gesture that took him aback. “Joe, you were stabbed directly in the heart. That is not a small thing. I reached you within moments; even so, I have lost patients under similar circumstances. I fear my magic might not have been sufficient if not for Billie’s aid; she administered a health potion via some kind of…device.”

“Hypodermic syringe,” Billie chimed in, beaming up at him. “Hottest shit out of Svenheim!”

“In addition to the wound itself,” Mary continued, “that knife was coated with a poison which appears to have been a carrier for raw infernal magic. You are extremely lucky that we didn’t have a priest with us. Most healing done these days uses divine magic; that would have reacted violently with the poison, causing massive internal hemorrhaging wherever it had spread and blasting a fist-sized hole at the knife wound itself.”

Joe swallowed again, heavily. “That…seems unnecessarily cruel.”

“Yes,” she said grimly. “As it is… Shamanic healing neutralizes infernal magic as a matter of course, but the damage was done; the venom spread throughout your bloodstream before I was able to purge it. The wounds are healed and I suspect you will recover fully—provided you follow my advice in the weeks to come—but for the time being, your cardiovascular system is in a state comparable to that of a sixty-year-old obese man recovering from a heart attack.”

“So,” he said wryly, “you’re saying I’m not gonna be attending any hoedowns in the next couple weeks.

Mary smiled, brushing back his hair again. “I’m saying I’ll put you back to sleep if you try. In fact, getting exercise will be vital to your recovery, but it will be gentle, supervised exercise, especially in the beginning.”

“Hey, you’re not alone in being useless,” McGraw drawled. “Without magic, I’m just an old man with questionable fashion sense. We can sit on the porch together complaining about kids on the lawn.”

“I have a finite amount of space,” Darling pointed out.

“Okay, but…what happened?” Joe demanded. “I mean, who was that guy, and why did he butt in? And what happened with Khadizroth after I—um, you know.”

There came a pause in which everyone’s expression grew grimmer.

“He is a professional assassin known as the Jackal,” Mary said finally. “Someone I neglected to kill when I last had the opportunity, for which you have my apologies. I assure you I will not repeat that error.”

“Khadizroth got away,” Weaver added. “Which was apparently the point. The Jackal got everyone to cluster around you instead of around the dragon, and spirited him off.”

“Weaver was the only one who stayed on point,” said McGraw, nodding to the bard. “He tried to apprehend Khadizroth, but…”

“But even a diminished dragon is more than I can handle on my own, it turns out,” Weaver said dryly. “I gave it a try and in two minutes was running for my life. In hindsight, it’s lucky I didn’t get a knife in my own back; I never even knew that asshole was there until I found you on the ground with the others.”

“So, you put aside your concern for me and stuck to the mission,” Joe said, grinning. “Good man.”

“I’m sure you’d have done the same for me,” Weaver replied offhandedly.

“Well, I sure will next time.” The bard actually laughed, sounding more relaxed and cheerful than Joe had ever heard him. “So, uh… How did you mean, diminished?”

“I bound him,” Mary said simply. “A dragon is a creature of shifting forms, as you know. Its larger shape is often called its true form, which is a misnomer; both are natural and intrinsic. In his full size, however, he has a larger aura to accompany his larger mass, and thus greater access to his powers in addition to muscle, armor and natural weapons. The spell I laid upon Khadizroth restricts him to his elven form, which greatly limits his options. Even so, as Weaver pointed out, he is effectively a shaman of nigh-matchless power in his current condition. So while we did not achieve our objective, it was not an unequivocal loss, despite the Jackal’s intervention. Khadizroth will be that much easier to deal with next time.”

“Yeah, well, considering we dealt with him last time with a wild-ass gambit that really should not have worked,” Weaver groused, “and in the future he’ll be on the alert for us, not to mention having a brand new assassin buddy… Forgive me, but I’m not gonna chalk this up as a win.”

“How long will your spell bind him, Mary?” Darling asked quietly.

“It has no limit on duration,” she said, shifting to face him. “I am confident that Khadizroth himself, in his current state, cannot free himself from it… But what can be done can be undone. The greatest impediment to him freeing himself at this time is that he will not be willing to appear vulnerable in front of any of the people who might help him. Nearly all of those are other dragons.”

“Okay,” he said thoughtfully, nodding. “The other thing you all should be aware of is that the Jackal, when he was last seen, was in the employ of Archpope Justinian.”

That brought another momentary silence.

“Doesn’t mean he is now,” McGraw said reasonably. “That Jackal’s a blade for hire, everyone knows that.”

“Ask yourself why he would have stuck his hired blade into that particular situation,” Mary said darkly. “Why follow us to Khadizroth? Why care? No one has an interest in this matter except Darling, the Church and the Empire.”

“And the Imps would have sent their own people,” added Darling. “They’d also have killed the dragon while they found him vulnerable, not helped him escape. No, this leaves the Archpope as the only other person who even knew what was happening out there, and the question is…why would he care? He’s not the vengeful type, and with Khadizroth’s Cobalt Dawn scheme broken up years ago, the dragon is no threat to his interests.”

“What remains,” said Mary, her face falling into a baleful stare, “is Archpope Justinian’s plan to gather powerful adventurers to his side, which you are allegedly to oversee, Antonio. Khadizroth in his current state is a very rare thing: a dragon powerful enough to be a potent force, but vulnerable enough that he may have no choice but to accept terms.”

“Hang on,” Billie objected. “I thought we were the ones working for the Archpope, here?”

“On paper, yes,” said Darling. “But when I look back on it, Justinian handing his adventurer program over to me came at a moment when he had to give me something to keep me loyal. I’ve asked him since you lot reappeared, and he claims the last he heard of the Jackal, the man was rotting away in the Sisterhood’s custody.”

“So it’s like that, is it,” Weaver said grimly. Darling nodded.

“Excuse me, it’s like what, exactly?” Joe asked.

“There are now two Church-sponsored initiatives to control adventurers,” Mary explained. “We represent one, the Jackal clearly being another. The Archpope has to know that Darling knows of his second group, but at the moment, I assume they are unwilling to confront one another.” She turned to raise an eyebrow at Darling.

“Do you really think anything good would come of that?” Darling asked dryly. “I’m in no position to take him on, and he doesn’t benefit from rocking the boat. None of this is particularly out of character for Justinian. He’s used his own agents to winnow each other down before—in fact, that’s what he was doing with the Jackal when I last crossed paths with him. I suspect he’s not shy about surrounding himself with people he knows are working against him, either. It’s a classic technique; keep your enemies closer, as the saying goes. This is a reminder that he is still in control, that he still holds all the cards.”

“Does he?” Weaver asked, staring intently at him.

Darling actually grinned. “He may hold them, but I very much doubt he understands what they do. The nature of individuals such as yourselves is chaos. That’s the specific thing adventurers are known for: succeeding when they should not. Justinian’s a planner and a manipulator; chaos is the one thing he’s least suited to handle. There’s also the fact that his other group are presumably operating under some kind of duress. They wouldn’t be adventurers in the first place if they were sympathetic to anyone in Tiraas looking to control him. No…for the time being, this game continues. Politely.”

Weaver folded his arms, his chin jutting out challengingly. “And that raises the issue of whether we want to continue playing.”

“Of course, you’ll still get paid for this expedition,” Darling said smoothly. “And Justinian has not blocked my access to his room full of oracles; I am still working on the answers I promised you.”

“Also, we’re not feckin’ idiots,” Billie added. “We’re all still in. Don’t give me that look, Weaver, you know damn well we are. None of us is gonna sit still while Justinian puts a collar ’round our necks. It’s either join him, try to ignore him, or stick with Darling and undercut him when we can, aye? Tell me none of ye are daft enough to think that’s even a choice.”

“All this can be discussed in more detail in the days and weeks to come,” Mary said firmly. “Right now, Joe needs rest.”

“I’ve had nothing but rest for the last day, apparently,” Joe complained.

“You were stabbed in the heart,” she said with a touch of asperity. “You will not be recuperated in a matter of hours. Or weeks.”

“Feh, don’t listen ta her,” Billie said cheerfully. “She’s older’n dirt’s granny. We’ll give you all the miracles of modern alchemy, have you back in shootin’ shape in no time at all!”

Mary gave the gnome an extremely level look, but offered no comment.

“Well, if we’ve got a little downtime,” Billie prattled on blithely, “sounds like a good opportunity to spend some quality time gettin’ ta know each other! And seriously, I’ve got questions. Like, Joe, how the hell did you manage that with the portals and that ridiculous shot you pulled off? And you!” She pointed accusingly at Weaver. “Just what the hell manner of beastie is it ye got sittin’ on yer shoulder, eh?”

Silence descended, in which they all peered warily around at each other.

Then Darling laughed out loud. “Well, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership. All right, I have to go tend to a political situation in the city. Try not to kill each other, please. At least not in my house.”


 

“So how was brunch with the Emperor?” Gabe asked as the group descended the steps into the Rail terminal.

“’bout as boring as I anticipated,” said Ruda. “We sipped tea, nibbled delicately on frou-frou little cakes and communicated entirely in mincing doublespeak. Got the job done, though, no one’s bearing any grudges, our great nations are still friends, yadda yadda, and everybody politely avoided mentioning how your great nation could pulverize mine with a good sneeze. Gotta say, though, I like your Empress. I think that lady is constitutionally incapable of taking anybody’s shit.”

“Well, that’s kind of true,” he said with a grin. “I was half expecting you to come back beheaded.”

“I’m not an idiot, Arquin. I don’t talk to people who matter the way I do to you.”

“Oh, so you don’t stab everyone you meet?”

“You are just never gonna let go of that, are you?”

“I cannot think of a single damn reason why I should.”

“Isn’t it kinda late?” Fross asked, rising upward a few feet to get a better view around the station. “Are we gonna be able to get a caravan?”

Afternoon had passed into early evening; there was still sunlight, peering through a rare gap in the Tiraan cloud cover, but it was reddish and streaming in from the west through the large plate glass windows which illuminated the Rail station. Indeed, the place seemed nearly deserted, the Rails themselves silent and the only people still present pushing brooms along the platforms in the near distance. The Empire was large enough that the sun didn’t occupy the same place in all its skies—by now it would be fully dark in Puna Dara and still late afternoon in Onkawa—but evidently it was past the hour when people were expected to be traveling.

“I think you kids have made quite a sufficient spectacle of yourselves for one week,” said Tellwyrn, bustling along in the head of their group. “There’s a reason I left you here all day rather than hopping the first available caravan. We have a special charter taking us back to Last Rock. They don’t usually like to run this late, but someone at ImCom agreed with me that the less attention we garnered, the better.”

“Well, it all works out,” said Gabe lazily. “I got to hear Trissiny’s speech and visit my dad. Nice, easy day after the week we’ve had.”

“It’s a shame you didn’t get to have brunch with our beneficent rulers, though,” Toby said with a smile.

Ruda snorted. “Now him she would’ve beheaded. Me, I was only worried about missing the paladins getting reamed out now that Her Professorship has graciously decided to rejoin us. The suspense is killing me.”

Tellwyrn glanced over her shoulder. “You’re a sadistic ghoul, Punaji. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Not so much since I left home. I kinda miss it. Nobody pitches a yelling fit like my mama.”

“No one’s getting reamed out,” said Tellwyrn, facing away from her again. “You lot mostly did well.”

“Seriously? They practically got the place burned down.”

“Ruda, must you?” Trissiny asked wearily.

“I don’t must, strictly speaking. It’s mostly just for my amusement. You may have noticed I’m kind of a bitch.”

“Failure wasn’t really a prospect,” said Tellwyrn, coming to a stop and turning to face them. “As I told you up front, this was a lesson, not a test. Toby and Trissiny, it seems, did the best job of learning it, perhaps because they caused the most incidental trouble. And the lesson was…?”

The two paladins exchanged a wary look.

“Pick your battles?” Trissiny said finally.

“More or less,” Tellwyrn nodded. “Minor variations for your specific cases, but yes. I could indeed make a speech about the importance of not trying to slay every monster you come across, but as I said, you seem to have gotten the point on your own. You two did exactly what I expected you to do; you soaked up the lesson better than I’d hoped, though. Well done. Arquin, Fross, you weren’t in a position to be tested very thoroughly on your own terms, but you seem to have done well in assisting your classmates while not causing collateral damage. Punaji, of course, understood this well going in and very properly refrained from getting involved where her involvement would have done no good. And, of course, Falconer and Awarrion performed much the same, though I wonder if either of you are willing to look me in the eye and claim your chosen actions were due to a careful analysis of the needs of the situation and not you taking the opportunity to hold hands and canoodle on a romantic holiday in the big city.”

Teal and Shaeine glanced at each other, then Teal lowered her eyes, blushing. Shaeine met Tellwyrn’s gaze evenly, but said nothing.

Tellwyrn grunted. “Remember, inaction is a course of action; it’s only the right one in circumstances when it specifically is the right one. Most of the time, it’s one of the worst things you can do. And you.” She turned a baleful stare on the last member of the group. “I am not impressed, Juniper. Sheltered and naïve you may be, but there are limits to how much of your denial I’m going to tolerate. You are too powerful and too important to be allowed to stagger aimlessly around the world with your head up your ass.”

Juniper, who had been subdued and glum for days, slumped her shoulders and dropped her gaze, saying nothing in reply.

Tellwyrn grimaced, peering around. “And now, where the hell is the special caravan I chartered? They’re late. I swear, the more modern conveniences get installed the less anything runs on time… Hang tight, kids, I’m going to go terrorize the station master for answers.”

“Um, Imperial Rail personnel aren’t supposed to give out schedule information…”

“Yes, Fross,” Tellwyrn said patiently. “You have never see me bored enough to terrorize someone without good and specific reason. It is goal-directed terror, I assure you. Be right back.”

She swished off in the direction of the ticket office, leaving the students staring after her.

Gabriel stepped over to Juniper and draped an arm around her shoulders. “D’you…wanna talk about it?”

“No,” she mumbled.

He nodded, drew in a breath and said very carefully, “You, uh, heard her, though. Eventually you’re gonna have to talk about it.”

“Not right now,” she said with an edge in her tone. “Okay?”

“Okay.” He rubbed her shoulder soothingly. After a moment, she leaned against him; he staggered before catching himself and bracing one leg.

“Well, look who thought they were gonna slip away without saying goodbye!”

The group started in unison, swiveling around; Flora and Fauna had appeared behind them, wearing identical grins.

“Gah!” Gabe exclaimed. “Don’t do that! In fact… How did you do that? There’s no cover in here!”

They exchanged an amused glance. “We’re Eserites.”

“We’re elves.”

“Honestly, Gabe, try to keep up.”

“It’s not that complicated.”

“I’m just so glad you decided to come visit,” he grumbled. Fauna laughed, stepping forward to ruffle his hair.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask,” said Trissiny with a smile. “How are you two? Last I saw you, it seemed like the Bishop was annoyed with you.”

“Oh, he’s always annoyed about something,” said Flora, waving dismissively.

“It’s all part of his charm.”

“He loves us, don’t you worry.”

“I think we’re actually gonna miss you, though, and not just because keeping tabs on you gave us an excuse to avoid studying.”

“I knew it,” Ruda exclaimed.

“Well, yeah,” Flora said with a grin. “You do realize we don’t always hang around seedy inns in Lor’naris, right?”

“Seriously, though, it was fun,” Fauna added, smiling with a little less mischief. “Someday we’ll have to do that without a riot brewing. I feel like we barely got—”

A thunderclap sounded right in the middle of the group; Flora and Fauna were bodily hurled across the platform, slamming into the far wall.

Tellwyrn reappeared in their midst, planting herself between the students and the two felled elves. Her body was encased in a suit of armor that seemed formed of pale blue light; she held a gold-hilted saber in each hand, both in a ready position. The crackling blue sphere of an arcane shield surrounded her; three orbs of lightning orbited her swiftly, emitting sparks and the sharp smell of ozone.

“What the hell?!” Ruda squawked.

Flora and Fauna surged to their feet, glaring at Tellwyrn with bared teeth.

“I will say this only once,” the Professor declared, her voice resonating hollowly from within her magic armor. “You are not my business. These students are. So long as you don’t move to combine those two things, I look forward to forgetting I ever saw you. Understand?”

“Do you really think you can—” Fauna broke off as Flora gripped her firmly by the shoulders from behind.

“It was good meeting all of you,” she said firmly. “Come on, Fauna.”

Fauna glared at Tellwyrn a moment longer, then sneered, whirled and stalked away toward the stairs out of the station. Flora lingered a moment, giving the students a sad look, then turned and followed her fellow apprentice, cloak billowing behind her.

Tellwyrn held her position until they were out of sight out the doors before straightening from her combat stance. Armor, shield and lightning balls faded from view, leaving behind only the telltale scent of ozone; she twirled both sabers once and then sheathed them at her waist. Or made motions as if doing so, anyway, despite the fact that she wore no scabbards; the blades vanished as if sliding into sheaths, and when she took her hands away, the hilts were gone too.

“Allow me to emphasize and elaborate on my initial question,” said Ruda. “What the fucking hell?! I liked them!”

“I don’t believe in coddling,” Tellwyrn said flatly, finally turning to face them. “You need to face the world in order to learn about it, and I’m not shy about sticking you into risky situations if it furthers your education. So on the rare occasions when I refuse to explain something, it’s because something is going on which doesn’t concern you, would fruitlessly endanger you to get involved with, and which even knowing about would necessarily involve you.” She dragged a hard stare around the group, making eye contact with each of them. “I am refusing to explain this. Understand?”

The students glanced around at each other.

“Understand?” Tellwyrn said insistently, this time getting a few muted acknowledgments.

“Wait,” said Juniper, “is this because those two are—”

“Juniper! You are not, now or at any time in the future, to discuss this with anyone unless I specifically tell you otherwise!”

“Um,” the dryad said meekly, “okay.”

“As for the rest of you,” Tellwyrn went on firmly, “If you ever encounter either of those women again, you are to immediately get as far away from them as you can, as fast as you can, and find me as quickly as possible. Is that clear?”

This time, she waited, staring them all down, until everyone had agreed.

“Good,” she said finally, turning away from them to the Rail, which had begun to glow and sparkle. “And…ah, there we are. Better late than never.”

The students stood in silence, staring at her back as she waited for the approaching caravan to come to a stop, her arms folded, tapping one foot. The doors hissed open, emitting no passengers, and Tellwyrn was the first to step through.

“I, uh, hope nobody saw that,” Fross said a little belatedly.

“The janitors are gone,” said Gabriel. “I guess that’s just good sense, with an archmage having a fit nearby.”

“Let’s just get out of here,” said Juniper, ducking into a car. One by one, the others followed her, arranging themselves inside.

Trissiny was the last to enter the caravan; she paused on the threshold, half-turning to look out at the station and the distant view of Tiraas through its huge windows, and sighed softly. Then she stepped in, pulling the door shut behind her.

< Previous Chapter                                                                                                                           Next Chapter >