Overworld (Dragon Mage Saga Book 1): A fantasy post-apocalyptic story

by Rohan M Vider

  Her forehead furrowed. “Boss?”

  “The last obstacle to us claiming the warren,” I said, trying to explain the queen’s nature in the best possible light. I paused, then added reluctantly, “The queen is also likely to be more difficult to overcome than the rest of the lair put together.”

  Tara snorted. “As if I couldn’t tell that already,” she said. She shook her head. “Alright, pack it in, people. It’s time to get moving. We’ve come as far as we can.” She began walking up the tunnel. “Let’s go report what we’ve found to the old lady.”

  The others followed on her heels. I didn’t move. “Tara, wait,” I called.

  She turned around and seemed to read my intentions from my expression. “I don’t care what you say,” she said, her lips thinning. “There is no way we are fighting that thing.”

  I was silent for a long moment. “I think there’s a way to kill her.”

  Laura laughed, assuming I was joking. But her amusement faded when no one else joined in. “He is kidding, isn’t he?” she asked Michael in a low voice.

  Michael chuckled. “Somehow, I don’t think so. He is batshit crazy, that one.” I winced at the spearman’s description of me, but didn’t take my eyes off Tara.

  The green-eyed captain likewise ignored the two. “No,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Hear me out first,” I pleaded.

  “Did you not see it has magic?”

  “I did. But I’m sure we can handle it.”

  Her foot began tapping. “Whatever hairbrained scheme you have up your sleeve, Jamie, I don’t want to hear it. I will not let whatever madness drives you endanger all our lives. We—”

  “I don’t need help,” I said abruptly, cutting off her tirade.

  Tara’s mouth closed with a snap.

  “I will tackle the queen on my own.” It would make things more difficult—nearly impossible, if I was being honest with myself—but Tara appeared adamant in her refusal and I would not walk away.

  John chuckled. “And how are you going to do that, lad? That beastie there will swallow you in three bites or less.”

  I turned to face the lieutenant. “You’re forgetting how I held back the murluks the first day, John. Thirty seconds,” I said, glancing at Tara. “For thirty seconds, I can ignore everything the queen will throw at me. That is time enough to kill her.”

  A hush fell over my companions, and when it was broken, it was by John, not Tara. “You seriously think you can do this?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, letting no hint of doubt colour my voice. “I’m not suicidal,” I added a moment later.

  John guffawed. “Oh, but you are, my lad, you are. No man in his right mind will attempt what you are contemplating. But,” he said, shaking his head, “if you really want to do this, alright.”

  Tara switched her glare from me to John. The big man folded his arms and did not back down.

  “The boy has proven himself thrice over, Tara,” he said quietly. “If he thinks he can do this, I believe him.”

  Tara’s mouth worked without saying anything, and she looked like she wanted to dispute the lieutenant’s words but remarkably, she gave way before his stead gaze. “Alright,” she said, swinging round on me again, “but I want to hear your plan before we begin.”

  ✽✽✽

  I spent the next two hours recovering and eating. Even though my mana pool had been about half-full, I didn’t fancy taking any unnecessary chances.

  “I am not suicidal,” I muttered. Despite the seeming impossibility of the task, I truly did believe the spider queen could be slain. Yet… I worried about her magic. Not that I could tell Tara that.

  The only other magic user I had seen in action was the orc shaman back on Earth, and if the queen’s magic was anything like his, then I was surely doomed.

  No, don’t think like that, I admonished myself. I couldn’t afford to let pessimism affect my thinking. If the battle looked unwinnable, I would retreat. Large as she was, there was no way the queen could pursue us once we escaped her cavern.

  As long as I make the decision to retreat early enough, I will be fine, I assured myself. Gazing inwards, I checked my reserves of energy. My stamina was fully restored and my mana about three-quarters full. Right, time to do this. I stood up.

  “I’m ready,” I said.

  The others looked up from where they waited. Walking over, they clasped my hand in encouragement. “Good luck, fish,” Michael said as he handed over his spear.

  I nodded my thanks to the spearman, then turned to Tara who looked like she had something to say.

  “Are you sure about this, Jamie?” the green-eyed captain asked, her face solemn.

  “I have to do this,” I said. “For the Outpost.” And Mum.

  She weighed my words. Then seemingly satisfied, swung around without a word and led the others a few paces off.

  I watched Tara for a moment before turning around to face the ledge. This was it. Stretching out flat on the tunnel floor, and with the spear in my right hand, I crawled the last few yards to the ledge.

  The plan called for the others to hang back for a minute before following. They had strict orders not to interfere until then. I could only hope they’d listen.

  As a I reached the ledge’s edge, a Trials message floated into view.

  Your skill in sneaking has advanced to: level 1.

  How nice, another Discipline, I thought, smiling wryly. Moving with deliberate care, I peered down into the cavern. The queen remained in the same position we had last seen her.

  I exhaled in relief. Good. There was no need to change the plan. Rising silently to my feet, I took a few controlled breaths to clear my mind. I was ready. I hefted the long spear and held it over my head in a two-handed grip.

  Then I leapt.

  I plummeted straight down. Widening my eyes to stop them closing shut from the air rushing by, I kept my eyes fixed on my target.

  Mid-fall, I activated invincible.

  Near instantly, weaves erupted outwards and a second skin of spirit shrouded my body. I waited a heartbeat longer. Then, almost at the end of my ten-foot-long plunge, I drove the spear downwards.

  As planned, its point made contact first.

  Given impetus by both gravity and my strength, the long spear plunged deep into the spider queen’s thorax. With an audible crack, the spear tip broke through the monster’s protective exoskeleton and kept going—until more than half its length was lodged in the gargantuan creature.

  A second later, I landed.

  Crashing into the spider queen’s ridged exoskeleton, I bounced off, and if not for my white-knuckled grip on the spear’s shaft I would have been flung off altogether. But I had been prepared for the violence of the impact and hung on. Barely.

  An angry scream tore through the chamber.

  Wincing—invincible did nothing to stop the sound from penetrating—I fought the impulse to slap my hands to my ears.

  The wisdom of that decision showed itself a moment later as the behemoth under me erupted into life. Kicking her legs into motion, the spider queen spun about in a mad blur as she searched for her attacker.

  My body was flung aloft.

  Again, if not for the spear keeping me anchored, I would have been tossed aside by the agitated queen’s twirling. With grim determination, I tightened my grip and prepared to ride out the storm. But after a few seconds, when the monster did not stop her crazed motion, I began to worry.

  “Goddamn,” I growled between gritted teeth, “when is she going to stop?”

  With shocking abruptness, the spider queen stilled.

  As soft as my voice had been, she had heard me. Realising I had only a short window to affect the next stage of my plan, I yanked out the long spear.

  It came free easily—until the spearpoint caught on the broken edges of the queen’s exoskeleton. Growling in frustration, I tugged at the weapon again. Any moment
now, I expected the queen to burst into motion.

  Fortune was finally with me, and on my second pull, the spear broke free. I gasped in relief—then without hesitation I plunged my right hand into the queen. Ignoring the slimy feel of the creature’s innards, I shoved my arm as far as it would go, right up to my shoulder.

  The monster beneath me trembled.

  She was about to spin into motion again. Pressing my body flat against the queen’s, I wrapped my left arm around one of the many deep ridges lining her thorax.

  Then, holding my spreadeagled position, I cast flare.

  Predictably, that set the queen off again. Her shriek shook the cavern. A moment later, the beast burst into motion. This time, she dashed headfirst into the nearest cavern wall.

  She’s figured out where I am.

  In a shower of loose rock and earth-shaking tremors, we impacted with the cavern wall. I winced as my left arm lost purchase and I was flung about. But my right hand stayed firmly in place and dragonfire continued to pour from it and into the queen.

  Anxiously, I checked my health—and nearly crowed in exultation as I noticed it remained full.

  I was right!

  Invincible really did protect me from everything, including the health drain of my own flare. How, I wasn’t sure—after all, I myself was the source of the damage—but I had placed my trust in the Technique.

  Still, it had been something of a gamble, and up until this point, I hadn’t been certain it would actually work as I hoped. I have a real chance of succeeding now, I thought.

  The queen reoriented herself. Using the momentary respite, I refastened my left hand around her body. Then she set off again, charging towards the opposite wall.

  She is trying to dislodge me.

  Once more, we slammed with bone-crushing impact into hard rock. Again, I held on.

  Despite the dizzying changes of direction and nausea-inducing deacceleration, I was pleased by the tactics the monster had chosen. The queen may not have realised it, but with her repeated attempts at bulldozing, she was harming only herself.

  I was protected by invincible. She not. And ever so slowly—more through her own efforts than mine—the queen’s health drained away.

  The behemoth spun about and charged once more. I braced myself for impact with the far wall again. But two steps into her headlong rush, the spider queen surprised me. She shot out threads from the spinnerets in her abdomen and anchored them to the cavern roof. Retracting the cord of glittering silk, she hoisted herself aloft.

  On the way up, I caught a glimpse of the party staring up from the ledge, awe and fear on their faces. They shouldn’t be there, I thought. Not yet. Why aren’t they following the plan?

  Further thoughts of the party fled as the queen began her mad dance once more. Running upside down along the roof’s surface, the spider spun about in a circle. Once. Twice. The queen’s attempts left me dizzy and shaken, but tenaciously I clung on.

  She isn’t going to get rid of me like this.

  Almost as if in response to my thought, the fine hairs coating the queen’s body retracted.

  I frowned. What’s she up to now?

  The spider queen stilled. Then dropped.

  Clever, I thought, realising what she was attempting. It wouldn’t work of course. But then, the beast didn’t know that.

  We plunged to the cavern floor and landed in another bone-jarring collision. Darkness followed as the queen’s body crashed down on me. If not for invincible, the impact surely would have been fatal.

  Instead, I was alive and still pouring dragonfire into the crazed creature trying to kill me. I flicked my eyes inwards and queried my Trials core. I still had more than ten seconds left on invincible. And the spider queen had to be close to death by now.

  This was a much easier fight than I expected. I smiled in satisfaction. Soon it will be over.

  A moment went by, then another, and still the queen did not move.

  Sickening dread coiled in the pit of my stomach as an unwelcome thought intruded. Is she trying to suffocate me? What happens if I am still stuck under her when invincible runs out?

  The queen moved and relief gushed through me. The fall probably dazed her. Surging upwards, the behemoth regained her feet. In preparation of her next wild manoeuvre, no doubt.

  I didn’t care though. Whatever the queen did now would not change the course of the battle. I had survived the worst the beast could throw at me. This fight is won, I thought.

  A moment later, the monster proved how wrong I was.

  The queen did not fly into motion as I’d expected. Instead, she remained locked in stillness while motes of dancing green rose from within her. Starting at her feet, they rippled upwards to suffuse her entire being.

  I gulped. The queen had called upon her magic.

  It did not take me long to figure out the intent of her spellcasting either. As I watched, the many cuts and abrasions covering the monster’s body began to close over.

  Damn it, she is healing herself.

  In my magesight, what had started as a slow dribble turned into a raging torrent as more emerald motes spun out of the beast and rushed to the source of her injuries. The queen’s spell had to be some sort of rapid regeneration. Would it heal her fully?

  If it did, the battle was lost.

  I queried my Trials core again. I had only a few seconds left on invincible. Was it time to cut my losses and flee? I glanced up. The ledge and safety were too far away. With my crippled foot slowing me down, I wouldn’t make it.

  Alright, Jamie, you’re going to have to see this through.

  The queen broke her stillness and moved again. To my immense relief, the motion also signalled the end of her spell, and the dancing motes vanished.

  But instead of spinning into motion as I’d anticipated, the monster’s limbs began to tremble and heave, and large clods of dirt started to fly upwards. She was digging, I realised.

  Why is she digging?

  Stuck in the middle of the spider’s back, I was blind to her purpose, but I didn’t dare leave my position to check.

  Whatever she is doing, I can’t let her finish.

  My gaze darted to where my hands were fastened to her. Dragonfire continued to pour out unbated from both my palms.

  The beast’s healing spell had not completely reversed all the damage I had inflicted, especially not where my flames burned the hottest. I could only imagine the damage my right hand—still plunged in the queen’s innards—was doing, but the damage from my left hand was clear to see.

  Where it met the queen’s skin, the hardened carapace had become brittle and cracked from prolonged contact with dragonfire. It looks weak enough to smash through.

  I didn’t hesitate. Closing my hand into a fist, I smashed down. More easily than I’d expected, my arm plunged through.

  The queen shuddered. She had felt that. But she didn’t stop digging. With both my hands plunged into the queen, I hoped that flare would inflict even greater damage.

  The beast couldn’t sustain much more of this. Surely, she couldn’t. But I failed to convince myself, and my niggling worry grew.

  What is she doing?

  The protective spirit shroud around me flickered and died as invincible expired. I had been expecting it, but still… the vulnerability of my position suddenly seemed more real.

  My own health began to drain. It’s you or her now.

  The moments ticked by, and the queen’s furious scramble at the dirt did not abate. More worryingly, the creature didn’t appear any closer to expiring.

  I looked up, and with a start saw that the queen—and I—had already sunk below the surface of the cavern’s floor.

  Just how fast could the queen shovel dirt? And what was the meaning of all this digging? Was she trying to escape?

  Dirt fell onto my head. I spat out the gritty grains of sand. The queen’s hole was deep enough now that much of the upturned soil fell
back in. Ducking my head against the falling shower of brown, I kept pouring flames into her.

  As quickly as she’d begun, the queen stopped her frantic motion. At the sudden silence, I picked up my head. The queen was spinning out silk strands in all directions—dozens of them—to the edges of the hole she had dug, and across.

  My brows furrowed. She is cocooning herself. Why, though?

  A second later, the entire expanse of space above was covered by glistening silver cloth that sagged gently down from the edges. Then the queen began to pulse.

  Now what?

  Blue throbs of light emanated from her core and rippled out in a wave. What the—? The light reached the boundary of the creature’s skin and flowed along it. I glanced downwards as the blue glow passed under my body.

  I recoiled in fear. Was this another attempt to get rid of me? But my panic abated just as quickly. In the wake of the spell, I was unaffected.

  Yet the queen’s skin changed. Hardened.

  Whatever spell the queen was using, it was transforming her. Before my eyes, dull brown carapace was turning into cold grey stone.

  A stone that looked disturbingly impervious to fire.

  I glanced down at my hands embedded in the queen. Were her insides turning to stone too? And would the spell make her immune to flare?

  The urge to flee grew. The spider queen’s cunning was greater than I expected. I’ve lost, I realised. Maybe I can still escape.

  But before I could withdraw my hands, the last thing I expected happened.

  With a last, forlorn sigh, the queen’s body crumpled inwards. For a second, I could only stare uncomprehendingly.

  She’s dead.

  I couldn’t believe it. But that could be the only explanation. Whatever spell the queen had been attempting, she had begun its casting too late. On the brink of disaster, I had won.

  Pulling out my hands from the corpse, I rose shakily to my feet. Beneath me, the behemoth’s lifeless form remained still and unmoving. It finally sank in.

  I had done it. I had really done it. I had won.

  I opened my mouth to roar out my triumph to the party, but staggered and nearly fell as an avalanche of Trials alerts crashed through my vision.