by Dawn Napier
Jack's arms were hard and strong; he reminded her of Brian and the way he always held her when she was afraid or upset. She tried not to think about the nature of Jack's existence as a figment of her imagination. If she had no idea what was going on, how could he know? But that was dangerous thinking. Adult thinking. She had to believe, to know that everything would be all right. Jack would help her as he always had. She had changed, but he had not. If she lost faith in him now, if she started thinking like an adult instead of a child, all would be lost.
"We're going to be okay," she whispered to Debbie, and she felt the child nod.
With a painful, dizzying thump, they landed on something hard and rolled over and over several times. Jack still had his arms protectively around them, and they tumbled across the floor until finally rolling to a halt. After a moment of silent, heart-thumping stillness, Jack released them and got up. Megan felt battered, but essentially unharmed. Debbie trembled with cold or fear or both, but she didn’t seem hurt.
"Are we there?" Megan asked. "Are we in the Dungeon?"
"Yes," Jack whispered. "This is the Dungeon Deep. What can we expect here?"
They were in complete darkness, but Megan tried to stare at Jack. "How should I know? You're the one with all the answers."
"You locked the Dungeon away after the bad thing happened. I was never allowed near this place. You wanted my stories to only be happy, remember?"
"I do." The Dungeon Deep had been the source of Far Faraway's bad guys and monsters, but after the bad thing the monsters had gotten too scary. Megan had locked it up and thrown away the key, and from then on the only stories she'd told were happy, fluffy-bunny tales. Jack was completely ignorant of this chamber of horrors, because she'd wanted him to stay innocent and happy. As Debbie never could be again.
"But someone else got in here and started letting bad guys out," Megan said. "The Evil Wizard, the trolls, the blood—someone else has been letting all those thing out of here. The 'she' you keep mentioning?"
"I guess so. Like I said, I never saw the inside of this place. They're your nightmares, not mine."
"For a place of nightmares, it's awfully quiet. Help me find a light."
Debbie still hadn't said a word, but she had Megan's waist as they inched their way to a nearby wall. Megan knew that there would be a lantern here somewhere, because that was how dungeons worked. And this was the archetypal dungeon, the storybook dungeon. There would be lanterns, there would be deep pits, and somewhere there was an iron cage with a beautiful princess or handsome hero trapped inside. This time, Megan knew, it would be a princess. Her princess.
Jack and Megan felt along the wall, which was cold and damp. Megan's fingers were starting to go numb when Jack said, "Here we are." The dull sound of metal on stone, and Jack pressed the lantern into her hands. After some careful fumbling, she found the little key that ignited the flame and turned it on.
A ball of orange light sprang to life inside the lantern. Now Megan could see around them.
The darkness was alive with monsters. The shadows were crammed with black shapeless things with hollow white sockets for eyes. Their limbs stretched everywhere, and they swung and flickered with the movement of the light. They all stared at the tiny trio with vacant hunger in their soulless sockets.
Megan screamed, and Debbie buried her face in Megan's waist. Jack squeezed her shoulder. "Look at them," he said calmly. "They aren't attacking. They can't hurt us, or they would have done it while the light was off."
Megan's scream shrank to a whimper, and she felt Debbie tremble against her. The child still had not said a word since coming here. It was worrisome, but not as worrisome as those silent, looming monsters. They flexed and flickered against the floor and wall, and their eyes never left her. Their empty, white eyes.
She held the lantern up higher and looked around. They stood next to a wall, a damp surface with no cracks or openings. She could not see to the other side of the Dungeon. Just long, stretching shadows with hands and claws, and those eyes.
But Jack was right. They did not swarm or attack; they only loomed. Perhaps they were only shadows, old fears long dead but still trapped here by the power of Megan's imagination. Or that of someone else.
"I don't think they can hurt us," she said. "Debbie, it's okay. We're just going to walk forward, and I think they'll move out of the way."
Debbie loosened her grip on Megan's waist but didn’t let go completely. And still she said nothing. "Debbie, are you okay?" Megan asked.
Debbie nodded.
"What do you think the shadows are? I think they're just bad dreams that can scare us, but they can't hurt us. What do you think?"
A long, silent pause. Then she shrugged.
Megan gave up. "All right. Let's start walking. Jack, hold on to my shoulder and don't let go. I don't want to lose you again like I did on the mountain."
"You won't lose me again," Jack said softly. His hand squeezed her shoulder, and for a moment he reminded her of Brian again. His hands were warm and comfortable.
Megan held Debbie's shoulder with one hand and the lantern with the other. The orange light danced a little as they moved, and the shadows danced with it. Their white eyes widened as they retreated.
"Paige!" Megan shouted. Her voice echoed through the massive chamber. She couldn't see more than ten feet in front of her, but she had a sense of openness that increased as she moved away from the wall behind them.
"Paige, are you here?"
Nothing but her own voice echoed back through the cavernous Dungeon. Jack's bells rattled emptily.
"What's wrong with your bells?" she asked.
"I don't know," he whispered. "Shhh."
Megan stood still and listened. The lantern swung slightly in her hand, sending the staring shadows swinging back and forth across the floor.
Slow, heavy footsteps dragged across the stone floor. Something was coming toward them.
Debbie's grip on Megan's waist tightened. Megan raised the lantern higher and waited. Jack was frozen in place, a motley statue.
A tattered figure in blue rags staggered into view. Its beard hung down to the floor, and its eyes were hollow black sockets.
"Gillio," Megan said. "The Evil Wizard."
The wizard raised his head, and his black sockets blinked. "Who's there?" he rasped. "I know that voice. Who are you?"
"Nobody." Megan did not want to give the wizard her name. "We're just passing through. Who are you?"
"I fell out of my boat. Something pushed me overboard, and when I landed I was here. Who are you? What is your name? I know your voice, dammit, now answer me!"
His voice sounded like that of her father, and Megan shivered. He looked like him too, minus the freaky black eyes. Long hair and beard, and poorly groomed because when one has a bag of weed in one's hand, who gives a shit about showering or shaving? Gillio's aimless stagger was a bit like Dad's after he'd topped off his daily dose of cannabis with half a case of beer.
"I said nobody!" Megan's voice quavered, but she swallowed down her fear. She'd be damned if this Freudian nightmare was going to make her give up on her daughter. "We're just traveling like you. We got lost."
Gillio staggered forward. One leg dragged as though he were crippled. Or as though he'd suffered a stroke. "I know you. I know your voice. You're that bitch that I pulled out of the ocean. You're the one who woke her up. You're the cause of everything. I should have killed you when I had the chance."
"Who's her? Who did I wake up?" Maybe Gillio would answer the fucking age-old question.
"The Dead Goddess," Gillio whispered. "You woke her up when you came here. Now she's changing everything, altering the world, stirring up the shadows. Maybe if I kill you now, she'll go back to sleep."
That never works in the horror movies, Megan thought, but she had no chance to think anything else because the baggy, ragged shape was racing at them, impossibly fast, with its bony arms outstretched and reaching for them.
Jack j
umped forward and caught the wizard's flying fists. His strong hands held Gillio firmly, but then he screamed and let go. In the dancing light of the lantern, Megan saw red splotches and white blisters on his palms.
This is my fight, she thought. Jack can't help me. I have to beat him myself. How do I fight off an evil wizard with my bare hands?
You can't, she thought. You need another wizard.
Another wizard.
Kyria was a Free Elf of the Many Kingdoms. She traveled with her loyal familiar, Sargent Fang, as well as several human companions. The companions changed from one story to the next, but one recurring character was a white wizard named Skyclad.
("Skyclad means naked," Debbie had giggled. "I know, but he's not really naked," Megan had explained. "His name means naked in spirit or something. Naked to God." "Good," Debbie said. "I'm not taking my clothes off when we play Many Kingdoms.")
Skyclad the White Wizard could kick just about anyone's ass, but he chose not to because he was kind and peaceful. Except when someone threatened his family. Then he brought down the lightning.
She pictured Skyclad. White robes, white hair. Not much of a beard yet. No hat, either. Hats always fell off in battle, and for a peaceful wizard, he had to fight a lot.
Her face tickled and itched, and she felt her shirt and sweat pants getting heavier and longer, turning into robes. She nudged Debbie away from her and handed her the lantern.
Gillio cocked his head and squinted blearily. He looked like a hung-over homeless man, like her father after the divorce. "I still have to kill you," he said with a trace of regret. He leaned forward and fell onto all fours. His shape went blurry and dim, and it raced at Skyclad quick as a snake.
Skyclad caught the shifting serpent in both hands and raised it aloft. It thrashed and snapped, and it caught the white wizard's wrist with a glistening fang. Blood poured, and the pain burned. Skyclad stared at the blood. It shined in the dancing light as it ran down his arm and soaked his sleeve.
Blood is power, and power is magic, he thought.
The pain burned all through his arm and down to his shoulder. Skyclad focused on the pain and pretended that it was flowing out of him with the blood. Then with gritted teeth and a mumbled incantation—"Power of the four winds drive before me"—he pushed the pain and magic back into the baggy, shapeless snake.
It burst into flame. Skyclad screamed as his hands burned, but he did not drop the burning thing that had once been Gillio, the Evil Wizard. He sensed that if he dropped it, the wizard would escape and the fight would start all over again. So he held on, gritting his teeth against the burning pain that seared his hands and set his white robes to smoldering. The snake burned, and Skyclad held on and breathed through the pain. He breathed through the pain and the fear and waited for the writhing, blazing thing to die. Tears poured down his face, and white ash drifted to the floor.
Finally the flames died, and the burning in his hands eased. Skyclad lowered his hands, and his fists were full of white, powdery ash. Gillio was gone.
Jack smiled at him. "Good for you," he whispered, and Skyclad grinned with embarrassed pleasure. Debbie ran to him and hugged his waist, and he gently took back the lantern.
"That's one down," Jack added.
Skyclad's smile faded. "What do you mean, one down?"
Jack took the lantern from him and held it high. The black shadow creatures were still there, staring and swinging across the floor and ceiling.
"Something else is coming," he said. "Maybe more than one."
The floor began to vibrate as though from an earthquake. Or dozens of trampling feet.
"Maybe a lot of somethings."
Debbie finally spoke. "Trolls," she said.
"How many?" Skyclad asked. He felt a little tired after the battle with Gillio, but he thought he could take a couple of trolls.
Debbie looked up at him. Her face was streaked with tears. "All of them," she whispered.
Chapter Nineteen
All of them. Skyclad tried to imagine how many that could be. Megan had escaped four trolls on her first visit to Mountain Steep. There had been dozens in that terrible attack when she had lost Jack. But had that been all of them? How many trolls were all of them? Couldn't Debbie be more specific?
No, think like a child. ‘All of them’ to a child was any number higher than what she could count. To Debbie, that could mean twenty. Twenty wasn't such a bad number. But it could also mean hundreds. How big was the Dungeon? How many trolls could fit down here? Irrelevant question. It was as big as it needed to be.
All of them. All of the trolls in Mountain Steep? Or all of the trolls in Far Faraway?
Or all of the trolls imaginable? All trolls in all worlds, from every fantasy story Megan had ever read, every universe she had ever imagined? Skyclad shook his head. It hurt his mind.
"Trolls can't handle sunlight," he said to Jack. "Is there any way to make sunlight appear down here?"
"Magic," Jack said.
"Yes, but what kind?" Skyclad's head hurt, and he felt frustrated. He couldn't just make a sun appear down here by magic. Or could he? No, Megan had always been very careful about magic. It had to follow certain rules, and it had to be clever. There was no fun to be had in a world where everyone walked around with godlike powers.
Right now, Skyclad could do with a little less fun.
The first of the trolls appeared just beyond the reach of the lantern. The white-eyed shadows slipped and slid across their ugly, scowling faces. Skyclad could hear their whispered curses and shuffling feet. They never attacked immediately. They would skulk and mutter and fight among themselves for a few minutes before deciding how to take action. This gave him some extra time to think.
What else were trolls afraid of? Not much. Skyclad could kill them one by one with lightning bolts, but the rest would just keep coming until there were none left. And if this was indeed "all of them," then that could take, literally, forever. And he had a princess somewhere to save.
There was no way that he could defeat them all in a traditional battle. Maybe—
"Charge!" someone cried, and the trolls surged forward as a single mass of bony flesh. The voice sounded female.
Skyclad and Jack stood back to back while Debbie clutched Skyclad's waist between them. The wizard's hands brightened to white-hot, and he fired bolts of lightning into the wall of trolls. Behind him, Jack's hands moved like quicksilver, and his bells jingled dully. The trolls in front of him slipped and fell on their asses as though on a dozen banana peels.
They couldn’t do this forever. Skyclad knew it, Jack knew it, and the trolls knew it. They dodged out of the way of the lightning bolts, and they burned to a crisp when they failed. But they did not retreat. Skyclad was not sure that they knew how.
Could the Beast Below handle this? She had failed before, but she had also been taken by surprise. Skyclad decided not to risk it. As a huge dragon, his strength would be greater but his range of motion would be diminished, and it would only take one troll to slip past his claws and grab Debbie. Then they would have a hostage—or a victim—and Skyclad would be powerless. His hands were getting tired, and he felt his wizard powers slipping, weakening from so much use. His face felt cool and smooth again; he was turning back into Megan.
For a moment the wave slowed; the trolls were retreating slightly to gather their own strength. What she needed was some sort of force to push them all back permanently. There was a chasm here in the Dungeon Deep; she remembered using it once to scare Debbie into playing a game her way. If she could get the trolls into it—
She knew what to do.
Megan dropped what was left of her Skyclad persona. "Debbie, hold on to Jack," she said. "Jack, get ready to jump on my back."
"Got it." Jack picked up Debbie, who wrapped her arms around his neck with what looked like bone-crushing force. The veins in his neck stood out a bit.
Megan turned back to the seething wall of trolls with disgust. They were milling about, cursing and
stomping their feet and preparing for another frontal assault. How dare they. How dare those horrid, subhuman creatures presume to lay hands on her, on her sister. Nobody touched her sister. How dare they. Megan's anger simmered and grew like a fire in her belly.
The Beast Below roared, and a burst of flame exploded from her mouth. Vaguely she felt Jack clamber up onto her shoulders.
The trolls blanched and stepped back, but the fire wasn't enough to drive them away. That was all right. That wasn't what she had in mind.
The dragon's wings were jointed and bat like. And like a bat, she could move and flap them in any direction. The Beast dug its claws into the stone floor for stability, angled her wings backward, and flapped as hard as she could.
It worked beautifully. The trolls tumbled and rolled backward, screaming and shouting curses. Then the Beast felt claws and teeth in her tail and rear legs. She spun around and trampled the trolls attacking from behind, then drove another backward with flame. When she used her wings to create more wind, she discovered that she could create billowing gusts of flame that scorched and killed by the dozens. The Beast marched forward, gusting fiery wind until she drove the majority of the trolls before her. Now they were together in a single mass, and there seemed to be fewer of them.
Her fire illuminated more of the cavern than the lantern in Jack's hand, but all the same there was a vague black gap behind the trolls where the light seemed to just stop. There weren't any of the white-eyed shadows, either. It was just nothing, like a smear of starless night.
The Beast dug in with her claws, took a deep breath, and charged at the trolls with a swirling wall of wind and flame. They screamed as they retreated, and they screamed even louder as they fell into the deep chasm behind them.
A few did not fall; they clung stubbornly to the Beast's legs as she charged forward. The Beast wrinkled her nose; they were like slimy, clinging boogers on her feet. She bit down on one—ugh, it even squished like a booger—and threw it into the chasm. The rest let go and ran away into the darkness behind her. The Beast let them go. The fight was over.