by Dave Higgins
“He died.”
“As a hero, no doubt. Slaughtering adventurers, or protecting goblin children from vicious barbarians. Continue, Manko.”
“The union of marriage is as old as goblin-kind.” Manko’s head sank back to his chest. “A sacred bond between one troll and one champion.”
“Now?” Bess whispered.
“I guess,” Edmond said.
Bess grabbed onto Edmond’s armour with both hands and tore it apart, snapping the straps. Edmond waited for the pain to come, but none did. She’d ripped the armour off him without even hurting him a little bit.
The goblin horde took a step back, eyes glinting in the smoky light.
“Run.” Bess shoved past Manko and hurled the altar aside. Mouldy wood exploded against a wall of the cavern, sending goblins diving for cover.
Edmond remained rooted to the spot for a moment as Bess ran for the exit door. Then Daffodil grabbed him and pushed him after Bess.
“After them!” King Grork shouted.
The sound of hundreds of little feet slapping on mud cut off as a door slammed behind Edmond. Grew burst from wherever he’d been hiding, cloak streaming behind.
Pounding through the corridors, taking turns fast enough to skid a little on the dirt floor, they raced after Bess until they reached the stairs down.
“Here they are,” Bess said.
Daffodil shoved Bess ahead of them, hurrying her down the stairs, as the cries of a hundred goblins echoed from behind.
Chapter 8
In the Dark
A warm glow spilled across their feet, illuminating a cool, grey marble corridor. Instead of torches, ornate lanterns were mounted at regular intervals.
Edmond glanced at the steps behind them. “We should move on; before they chase us down here.”
“They won’t,” Bess said. “They don’t come down here. I can see why: everything’s so… clean.” She rested her hand on his shoulder and pointed at her collar. “Before we go any further, can you take this off?”
“Of course,” Edmond said. “But you might have to kneel first.”
Even kneeling, Bess’ head was above Edmond’s. He studied the latch. It wasn’t locked; just closed. “I would have thought you could snap this. Or open the latch.”
Bess turned a deeper shade of green. “I’m not good with my fingers and small things like that.”
Edmond slipped the catch open and threw the collar aside.
“What’s your Dexterity stat?” Grew squinted at Bess from behind, rubbed his eyes, and squinted again.
“You talked about stats before. What are they?”
“They say how good someone is at something,” Edmond said. “Daffodil has an 8 in Strength, so she’s strong. Grew has a 9 in Wisdom, so he can remember a lot of facts. I have 14 in Luck.”
“That’s why you’re the leader,” Bess said.
Daffodil glared at Edmond. “Who says he’s the leader?”
“I meant you’d want your leader to be as lucky as possible. Especially when he’s leading you down to meet the witch.”
“The witch?” Edmond shook his head. “We’re going to rescue…” He shot a look at Daffodil. “We’re going to rescue a friend from the dragon. We don’t want anything to do with the witch.”
“You’ll have trouble messing with her pet without angering her,” Bess said.
Edmond swallowed hard. “Excuse me?”
“The dragon. It’s the witch’s pet. She’s not going to let you hurt it.”
“So we’re not just fighting a dragon?” Daffodil said. “But a witch too?”
Grew trembled hard enough to make his cloak swish.
“This is a good thing,” Edmond said. “If the witch controls the dragon, it won’t have eaten Melinda at once; and we can reason with a person.”
“Edmond.” Daffodil rolled her eyes. “Your Charisma’s 3. Mine’s 4 and so is Pettigrew’s.”
“I’m not turning back,” Edmond said. “Even if it was possible to make it through the goblin kingdom and all the levels above it, I’m keeping going until we reach the dragon.”
“Then we need a better plan,” Daffodil said.
“I’ve worked it out.” Grew peered at Bess. “She doesn’t have stats like we do. Instead of two lines at the front, she has four; three green and one red. And she has different numbers on her back too; Armour Class 32, Attack 14, Hearing +5, Smell +8, and Sight -5.” He pulled out a scrap of parchment and made notes.
“That’s why you have bad eyesight,” Edmond said. “You have stats, just different ones.”
“It explains how she heard me whispering to you earlier too,” Daffodil said.
“From the sounds of those stats, you’re practically invulnerable,” Edmond said. “I’m glad you came with us.”
“Wait,” Daffodil said. “She agreed to come with us, not to fight the dragon. Shouldn’t you ask her about that first?”
“You’re right. Bess, will you come with us on our quest to rescue a friend from the dragon below?”
“I would, but I can’t. I have to get out of here. There’s a whole world up there I need to explore. I hope you find your friend, though.”
“Wait,” Grew tipped his head sideways before circling Bess with his nose almost pressed to her dress. “Something’s happening to her stats. They’ve changed.”
“Changed how?” Daffodil’s hand strayed to her sword.
“She has normal ones now, as well as her other ones. Strength 9, Constitution 9, Dexterity 1, Intelligence 3, Charisma 2, Wisdom 4, Willpower 3, Perception 6, Luck 3, and the last one is 7.”
“What does that mean?” Bess asked. “I feel the same.”
“I’m not sure,” Edmond said.
Grew tapped his parchment. “She started a quest. So, she’s an adventurer now.”
Bess beamed with pride. “I always wanted to go on a quest.”
After a few moments of shuffling and false starts, they left Bess and moved deeper into the dungeon. Without the crackle of torches, the only sound was the echo of their footsteps. Oddly, Edmond felt more on edge without any monsters to deal with.
The corridor ended in a room containing two shallow pools. Each had a statue in the centre: on the left a verdigrised copper dragon, sitting upright on a pile of skulls; on the right a robed figure of dark iron, studying a map.
A pair of massive doors filled the far wall. Two thick iron bands wrapped around each door, the space between filled with carvings of sorcerers standing on desolate cliffs. Instead of a chain hanging to one side, ornate brass handles jutted either side of the middle.
Edmond’s throat was parched after the feast. The roast pig had been salty, but there’d only been wine to drink and he’d wanted to keep a clear head. He knelt by the right-hand pool.
“It’s a trap,” Grew said. “Poison or something.”
Edmond studied the crystal-clear water, but couldn’t see anything wrong with it. “I don’t think it’s poison.”
“Suit yourself,” Grew said. “But I won’t drink it.”
Grew strode past and grabbed the door handles. The water bubbled. Instead of opening the doors, Grew stood there twitching.
“Grew?” Edmond asked.
The muscles in the boy’s neck bulged, but he didn’t reply. Edmond jumped to his feet, reaching for his arm.
“Don’t touch him!” Daffodil ran over, tugging out her rope. She looped one end around Grew, then heaved.
The boy fell back and collapsed on the ground, eyes closed.
“Is he dead?” Edmond asked.
Grew coughed.
“No such luck,” Daffodil said. “He’s just stunned.”
Edmond poked her in the side. It didn’t do much through the armour, but got the message across anyway.
“Sorry. I know I should be nicer to him. He’s just such a… smarty pants.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Grew’s eyes fluttered. “I’ve heard the kiss from a beautiful woman can wake a sleeping prince.
”
Edmond crouched close. “Get up, or I’ll kiss you.”
Grew sat bolt upright. “I’ll heroically carry on. What are we going to do about those doors? That hurt.”
Daffodil stared between the doors and the pools. “The water bubbled when you were holding the handles. Could the statues be connected somehow?”
“Maybe,” Grew said. “It could be some kind of magical connection.”
“Or this chain.” Daffodil pointed to a thin chain leading from the pool on the right to the door. It was almost invisible. She grabbed it and tore it loose.
“Careful,” Edmond said, too late.
Daffodil shrugged. Moving to the other side of the doors, she found another chain and tore it off too.
“Do you think it’s safe now?” Edmond asked.
Daffodil extended one finger until it touched a door handle. When she didn’t freeze, she turned the handle and swung the door open. Then she did the same with the other one. “You go first, Edmond. That might not have been the only trap.”
Edmond crept forward, shield raised between him and any threats that might lurk ahead. A short distance after the door, the corridor split in two. To the right, the lanterns ended, cloaking the corridor in darkness. To the left, the lanterns continued, revealing the bodies of two dead goblins a dozen paces on.
“Even though it’s dark, we should go right,” Edmond said. “So whatever killed those goblins doesn’t get us.”
“Or whatever killed the goblins is used up,” Grew said. “So we’d be walking into an unsprung trap by going right.”
“We should figure out how the goblins died,” Daffodil said. “We might be able to get close enough to check.”
“Wait here, I’ll go.” Edmond crept as far as he dared. Each goblin had metal discs embedded deep in its flesh. “It looks like a projectile trap.”
“Then let’s go right,” Daffodil said, waving down Grew’s protestations. “We’ve no way of knowing if the trap is spent, and I don’t fancy having anything embedded in my body.”
Edmond retreated, while Grew renewed the light spell. Then Daffodil and Edmond danced their own spells. With a thunderclap, they turned green.
“I guess the magic was enough to make us level up,” Edmond said. There seemed little point asking, but Edmond turned to Grew anyway.
“Charisma and Wisdom. No Luck in sight. Daffodil, you got Intelligence and Perception.”
“And you got Constitution and Luck,” Daffodil said.
“All right.” Edmond peered into the gloom. “No time like the present.”
The light from his spell barely lit a few paces into the corridor. As they moved further, the darkness seemed to flow away from the walls, pushing the bounds of the light ever tighter.
“That’s the problem with dabblers,” Grew said. “Their spells have no staying power.”
Grew moved closer to Edmond, but—even treading on Edmond’s heels—his light didn’t help. Their spell didn’t have the power to beat the darkness.
Edmond peered harder. Darkness shouldn’t be stronger than light.
“We can feel our way forward,” Daffodil said.
Edmond nodded uncertainly and moved to the right wall. Hand running along the marble, he scuffed his feet forward. The further he got, the less he could see, until there was only dark around him. After a dozen paces, his leading foot met thin air. “There’s an edge here. The floor just disappears.”
“I’ll join you,” Daffodil said. Her voice seemed muffled.
“I’ll wait here,” Grew said, from what sounded like a good few paces behind them.
“I’ve found it,” Daffodil said. “Hang on while I feel with my hands.”
Edmond heard Daffodil crouch nearby, followed by a gasp. “Are you okay?”
“The edge is sharp. It cut my finger.”
“Maybe we can reach the other side,” Edmond said. “Hold my hand and I’ll lean out.”
He reached out in the dark and located Daffodil’s shoulder, then patted down until he found her hand. She felt strangely stiff. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” Daffodil said. “Lean out, I’ll hold you.”
Edmond shuffled his feet until they were at the edge, then leant out. He swept his free arm back and forth, but didn’t find anything. He leant further, trusting Daffodil to hold him, but still found nothing. It didn’t feel like a vast open space, but the walls were further than they could reach. “Pull me back.”
His foot slipped on the smooth marble as she tugged. Teetering on the edge, he grabbed her with his other arm. She definitely seemed stiff. It was probably just the armour. After recovering his balance, Edmond considered for a moment. “We can’t reach the other side, so we’ll have to go down and find out what’s there.”
“I’ve still got the rope.” The darkness made Daffodil’s voice sound odd; like she was holding her breath. “You can lower me down, and I’ll take a look.”
“No,” Edmond said. “The lightest person should go.”
“Who’s that?” Grew asked.
“You, numbskull,” Daffodil said.
With a start, Edmond realised he was still holding Daffodil’s hand and let go. “Tie the rope around him. Daffodil, you can lower him down.”
“Wait,” Grew said. “We could go back and take the other turn.”
“And get peppered with metal discs?” Edmond asked. “Let’s find out what’s down there first. If you die, we’ll know to take the other turn.”
“You think I’m going to die?” Grew asked. “I don’t want to die.”
“I’m joking. Just please do this.”
“Okay. I’ll go. But remember how heroic I am going first.”
With no light, it took Daffodil a moment to tie the rope around Grew. Edmond double-checked it, then moved out of the way and let Daffodil take the rope.
Knowing he couldn’t see but unable to stop himself peering anyway, Edmond struggled to make out what was happening through hearing alone.
Daffodil grunted with effort as Grew went over the edge. The rope growled over the lip of the hole.
“Nothing yet. I can’t see a blasted thing.” Grew sounded shaky but otherwise normal.
Daffodil grunted as she lowered him further.
“And that’s the end of the rope,” Daffodil said. “You see anything, Great and Mighty Pettigrew, most famous of sacrifices?”
“No. For all I know, it might be bottomless.”
“Pull him back up,” Edmond said. “We’ll try the other turn.”
Daffodil set to work, panting with the effort of heaving Grew up again. Something twanged, followed by a muffled yell.
“The rope broke,” Daffodil said. “Pettigrew fell.”
Edmond shuffled as close to the edge as he dared. “Grew, are you there?”
“He’s choking,” Daffodil said. “Can’t you hear that?”
Far off below him, Edmond heard spluttering. “Did he land in water?”
“I’m fine!” Grew spat again. “There’s a giant pile of feathers down here. It cushioned my fall.”
“Feathers?” Daffodil asked. “Not spikes?”
“No spikes. Feathers. If you jump, you should be fine. Let me get out of the way first.”
Edmond waited for a moment, then jumped over the edge. He plummeted through the air and bounced on a soft bed of feathers.
Moments later, Daffodil puffed down next to him. “Now what?”
Suddenly a pit of feathers didn’t seem so pleasant. He hadn’t thought that far ahead; he might have just trapped them all. And what kind of bird shed so many feathers? “Search around, see if you can find a door.”
He waded to his right until he touched a wall. Cold, slick stone dashed his hopes of clambering up. The walls of the pit were marble. The expense was boggling; especially for something that would never be seen. Working his way along, his hands knocked into a metal rung. Above him, he found more as far as he could reach. “I found a ladder.”
As he shifted to get his legs back down, the edge of his right hand brushed something to the side. Reaching, his fingers closed around a lever, and with a heave, he pulled it down.
A line of light formed to his left, growing to a rectangle as a section of the wall ground out of place next to him. Beyond, ornate lanterns lit another marble corridor.
After a few false starts, Edmond swung his leg into the corridor before bracing himself to help the others across. Once they were all together, he stared down the corridor. “This level is strange. We should be more careful going forward. Expect anything.”
“Anything?” Grew asked. “How can we do that?”
“Keep your eyes open, Pettigrew,” Daffodil said.
Chapter 9
Camp
Edmond took out his shield and held it in front of him again, ready to duck behind it at a moment’s notice. His eyes on the move, he glimpsed something flicker ahead of them. It had been quick; he didn’t know what it was; but it might have been someone’s heels and the tail of a robe. Someone had gone around the next corner.
He sprinted forward, determined to see who was running from them; then slowed as he remembered the possible traps. Pace wavering between a fast walk and a slow run, he reached the next corner in time to see a man duck around another turn.
“What is it?” Daffodil asked.
“There’s someone ahead of us. Come on.”
“There could be traps,” Daffodil called.
“Not if there’s someone running ahead of us, or he’d hit them,” Grew said. “Of course, Edmond could just be imagining things.”
Edmond ignored the second comment, running around the next turn and the next, until he saw the man waiting at the top of a flight of marble steps. His black, hooded robe was pulled low, hiding his eyes, but not his pointy chin or his pallid flesh. For a moment, Edmond felt the pressure of his eyes, then the man skipped down the steps.