by Dave Higgins
The others jogged around the corner and stared at Edmond.
“Did the man go down those steps?” Daffodil asked.
“Or did he jump on his unicorn and fly away?” Grew asked.
“He ran down the steps,” Edmond said, not punching Grew hard in the stomach, “but I’m not sure we want to follow too closely. He was too pale to be human.”
“And you want to go where he went at all?” Grew asked. “You’ve really lost it.”
Edmond checked the hourglass. They’d been descending for more than a day. The thought of Melinda in danger weighed on him, but the running and climbing weighed more. “Let’s take a break here and get some sleep. By the time we move on, the man will be long gone.”
“That’s the best idea you’ve had for ages,” Grew said. “I can recharge my mana.”
Edmond unstrapped his equipment and sat down with his back to the wall.
“Shouldn’t someone stand watch?” Grew asked.
“Good idea,” Edmond said. “Thanks for volunteering.”
* * *
Edmond woke, what felt like moments later, with Grew shaking his shoulder. He couldn’t hear screaming, so waking up seemed unnecessary. Easing one eye open, he considered the blurry corridor. Grew stared down at him, bottom lip trapped between his teeth, while Daffodil lay along the wall her head slumped on her pack.
Grew shook him again, harder, and stared into his face. “Your shift.”
“Okay.” Edmond clambered to his feet. Something clicked in one shoulder. “Get some sleep.”
“Can I talk to you first?” Grew tilted his head down the corridor.
Edmond followed him a dozen paces. “What is it?”
“It’s… there’s a lot of things.” Grew took a deep breath. “How much further do you think we can get?”
“All the way to the dragon,” Edmond said. “Why? We’re doing fine so far.”
“We are,” Grew said. “But… this is level 4. You know what’s next.”
“Level 5?”
“Exactly,” Grew nodded sharply, then looked puzzled. “We’re almost halfway. Don’t you know what that means? There’s going to be a great challenge to face; there always is at the halfway point.”
“We can beat it if we work together. We’ve levelled up a lot.”
“Sure, but we haven’t been exploring enough. Look at our loot.”
Edmond glanced at the packs arranged beside Daffodil. “What about it?”
“We’ve been finding the quickest route through the levels,” Grew said. “Missing out on all the armour and weapons. After escaping the wedding, you’ve no armour at all.”
Grew’s spindly limbs shook with the effort of not trembling, and his natural pallor had faded. He was only thirteen and deep in a dangerous dungeon on a quest he wasn’t ready for.
“You want to go home?” Edmond asked.
“I want all of us to go home. I want you to realise how out of our depth we are and turn around. We can still get back to the entrance and go home. Is this Melinda worth dying for?”
Edmond tried to picture Melinda in his head. She had blonde hair, and pale skin. Her eyes were... roundish? Was her hair more light brown? The harder he chased, the faster the image fled. The potion stall was opposite Humph’s. He’d been watching her when the barbarian arrived. He chortled. Daffodil was right, the warrior had been a big lummox with his—
Daffodil, who hadn’t wanted to come into the dungeon in the first place, but had walked into almost certain death to come with him. Of all the things his Luck had given him over the years, a best friend who didn’t care if he smelt of pigs was its best achievement. Was he willing to risk her life to save Melinda?
Or risk Grew’s? The little wizard might be annoying sometimes, but he was also innocent.
Edmond didn’t know where their best chance of the life they deserved would be, but it was unlikely to be facing a dragon at the bottom of a dungeon.
His shoulders sagged lower. “But it’s true love. The hero can’t give up halfway, or he wouldn’t be much of a hero.”
“You’ve levelled up a little. You could start a different quest. After half a dozen quests, you’d be able to do anything you want.”
“That doesn’t sound very heroic. And where would that leave Melinda?”
“She might get eaten, but the dragon has eaten a lot of people, hasn’t it?”
Edmond wavered. “Enough people have died from that dragon.”
“Why add four more?”
“Why are you trying to talk me out of this, Grew?”
“Because it seems like a waste of time. This Melinda probably doesn’t even like you.”
“Wait here.” Edmond hurried back to Daffodil and shook her shoulder.
“...feels nice, Edmond.” She twitched, then her eyes eased open. “Is it my turn to stand watch?”
“Not yet. But I need you to check someone for me.”
“Who?”
“Grew. He’s acting strange.”
Daffodil stared down the corridor. “Okay. Where is he?”
Edmond turned, but Grew had disappeared. “He was right there.”
Daffodil pulled her armour on while Edmond grabbed his sword and shield. Once they were ready, they set off back the way they’d come. After a couple of turns down the corridor, they found Grew lying on the ground, hands and feet bound.
Edmond sheathed his sword and untied Grew while Daffodil stood watch.
Once the gag was out of his mouth, Grew coughed and spluttered. “Did you kill it?”
“It?” Edmond asked. “What was it?”
“A changeling,” Grew said. “Pretending to be a beautiful woman. She told me she needed to talk in private, then grabbed me and tied me up.”
“What did she want?” Daffodil asked.
“To convince us to leave,” Edmond said. “She pretended to be Grew, so she could tell me it was too dangerous.”
Grew flailed his limbs like a willow tree in a storm, working the feeling back. “Whoever’s running this dungeon must be worried.”
“But for us or for the dragon?” Daffodil asked.
“For us,” Grew said. “The dragon can take care of itself.”
“We should have two guards at a time,” Edmond said. “We still need sleep.”
“I can take the next shift with you, Edmond,” Daffodil said. “At least I won’t get distracted by beautiful women.”
Grew blushed and shrugged. “They could send a handsome man next time.”
“I’m not looking for a handsome man,” Daffodil said. “I’m fine as I am.”
They returned to their camping spot, Grew settling down to sleep. It took them a few minutes, but after a while Edmond heard him snoring.
Daffodil motioned him down the corridor a little ways, so they could talk without disturbing Grew.
“A beautiful woman?” Daffodil asked. “Could it have been the witch herself?”
“Who knows?” Edmond said. “This dungeon has just been one confusing experience after another. If it was the witch, though, I don’t know why she’d take an interest in us. Or why she’d try to convince us to leave. She wants heroes to feed to her pet dragon.”
Daffodil frowned in thought. “What do you make of Bess?”
“Those goblins didn’t strike me as big readers, and she said she wants to be a scholar.”
“A scholar?” Daffodil said. “Has she ever looked in a mirror? What order would take a giant troll?”
Edmond sighed. “Or someone with low Intelligence and Wisdom?”
“That’s different. Those can change. They are changing.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. Do you feel different? Wiser or stronger?”
“No,” Daffodil said. “But I’ve only gone up a point in each. Nothing’s increased significantly.”
Edmond nodded. “I guess.”
“Do you feel luckier? Your Luck has gone up a lot.”
Edmond found a copper coin in his pocket. “
Heads.”
The indistinct image of a king peered up at him.
“Don’t waste it,” Daffodil said.
“I don’t think it works like that. Listen, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. Something that pretend Grew said. You’re risking everything to come with me and save Melinda. You could have turned back whenever you wanted.”
“No, I couldn’t. You’re my best friend. You think I’d abandon you in your time of need? Even if we’re on a quest to save a whiny woman who won’t even appreciate it.”
“Still.” Edmond squeezed Daffodil’s arm. “I couldn’t do any of this without you.”
Daffodil opened her mouth, then shut it again.
“What is it?”
“What do you love about Melinda?”
“Oh, it’s everything. Her long hair, her blue eyes.” Her eyes were blue. He’d remembered. “The way she laughs. It all just combines somehow to give me butterflies.”
“And that’s true love?”
“I think so. I’ve never felt that way about anyone else in my life.”
“You haven’t had all that many options,” Daffodil said. “There weren’t many young women in the village. Not until she showed up.”
“None,” Edmond said.
Daffodil stared at the wall. “No. None.”
“And Reg isn’t that good looking,” Edmond said. “Even on his best days.”
Daffodil snorted. “We should stay near Pettigrew, in case that thing comes back.”
After a few hours, they woke Grew, while Edmond got some sleep. When Daffodil shook him awake, he felt better. Ready to face whatever was on level 5 that pretend Grew had been warning about. He didn’t know if it was really there or not, but he was ready for it.
They walked to the stairs down to the next level and stared at them. The stairs were narrower than usual, with only room for one person at a time. It would be a tight squeeze. The handrail was intricate, formed from spiralling copper and white metal.
Grew drew himself up to remind everyone he was about to be wise. “It’s clearly a trap. You should go first, Edmond.”
Chapter 10
The Question
Edmond headed down the stairs without hesitation. Even if made little sense to send the luckiest person first, it wouldn’t be fair to risk the others for his quest. He kept his hand off the handrail though; being lucky didn’t mean you should be stupid too.
When he didn’t drop dead, Daffodil followed, with Grew taking the rear.
The stairs seemed longer than previous flights, winding around a corner ahead. Nothing looked different, but as Edmond passed the turn, he heard a click. Each step flipped down, turning the stairs into a slide.
Feet shooting out from under him on the polished marble, Edmond slid downward, faster and faster. His first instinct was to grab the rail to stop himself, but he resisted. Instead, he yanked out his axe and jammed the edge against the slope. Pain jerked through his shoulder as the axe caught on a crack between steps.
Before Edmond had properly realised he’d stopped, Daffodil slammed into his back, jolting his grip to the bottom of the axe handle. A breath later, Edmond’s arm almost tore from its socket as Grew slid into both of them.
Clambering along Edmond’s body, Daffodil grabbed the handle of the axe. “Now what?”
Edmond wrapped his arms around Daffodil, then peered down the slope. It continued around another corner, out of sight. “We can’t go back up, so we’ll have to go down.”
After a moment, Daffodil nodded and wrenched the axe free of the slope. The three of them slid again, picking up speed, then jerked to a halt as Daffodil raised and lowered the axe. Beyond the bend, the slope continued for several paces before ending in a pit the width of the corridor. Even with Edmond’s Luck, the darkness beyond was unlikely to hold feathers.
Trying to ignore the splatty, spiky, and screamy images his mind created of what might be there instead of feathers, he focused on the tunnel. About a foot before the edge, something poked out a few inches. “That has to be how to survive.”
“Someone needs to pull it,” Daffodil said. “Without touching the railing or falling into the pit.”
“If we get close enough, Edmond could pull it,” Grew said.
“Then we need to slide more.” Daffodil tugged the blade from the slope.
They flew faster and faster toward the pit. Daffodil pressed the axe down as they approached the lever, but they were going fast enough that it bounced off again.
In desperation, she slammed the axe into the slope with all her strength. Splinters of marble peppered their faces as the blade cut a short trench in the stair; but they jerked to a halt.
Edmond stretched out one arm. Even at full extension, the lever remained beyond his fingertips. If Daffodil pulled the axe out and put it down immediately, they’d be close enough. But if she didn’t do it hard enough to catch, they’d go over the edge; and if she slammed it down too hard, the steps might break, and they’d go over anyway. “We need to make a chain. I’ll hold Daffodil; Grew can hold me.”
“Err, are you sure?” Grew asked. “Wouldn’t it be smarter to—?”
“Shut up and do it, Pettigrew,” Daffodil said through clenched teeth. “I can’t hold on forever.”
Grew opened his mouth, then closed it and clambered over Edmond. Edmond was certain his rib cage was splintering as Grew made his way down. His lungs somehow gasped in breaths though.
Finally, Grew hung from Edmond’s belt. Easing one foot under then the other, he rose to a crouch. When he didn’t fall, he got to his feet. His fingers grasped, a hairsbreadth from the lever.
One arm at a time, Edmond let go of Daffodil and gripped lower, until he lay beside her legs.
Grew strained again, his fingers brushing the lever. Then Edmond’s belt snapped. With a yelp, Grew slid toward the edge, falling to his back as he did. Still moaning, he grabbed the lever as he shot past.
With a grinding sound, the pit closed. Grew slid across the newly appeared floor, then scrambled to his feet.
“You can let go now,” Daffodil said.
Edmond realised he was still wrapped around Daffodil. With an apologetic look, he let himself slide down. Daffodil wrenched the axe free and glided down, landing on her feet. She handed the bent, chipped axe back to Edmond, who went to shove it into his belt, but there was nothing left to shove it into. His sword lay beside him, still attached to the tattered remains of his belt. A few paces further on, his pouch rested against a wall.
With no better alternative, he tied the ends of his belt together, then looked around. The entire level seemed to be made of treasure. The walls appeared to be made of onyx. A gentle glow from a large gem in the ceiling sent reflections bouncing around. Ahead, a hulking statue of an ogre, so tall its head scraped the ceiling, holding a large marble club stood beside a door banded with gold.
“Hey,” Grew said. “It’s Bess’ boyfriend.”
Edmond considered that, but where Bess’ mouth was filled with tusks, the ogre had none. It had bulkier muscles and a thicker forehead. Its jaw was substantially bigger, seeming to be too heavy for it to support. And its eyes were dull, even for a statue. Edmond thought a living version of the sculpture was unlikely to be very smart.
“Let’s just see what’s through the door.” The closer Edmond crept to the statue, the more menacing its expression seemed. After peering around for chains or other signs of a trap, he reached for the door handle, only for it to drop off as he touched it.
As he bent to retrieve it, a breeze blew over his head, followed by an earth-shattering crack.
Twisting around, he saw a dent in the door where his head had been. The stone ogre grunted and raised its club again.
Edmond scrambled back as the ogre’s club cracked into the floor between his legs. Grabbing his shoulder, Daffodil yanked him away, until they were all ten paces from the ogre.
The ogre raised its left foot and turned.
“How are we mea
nt to beat that thing?” Grew asked. “It’s huge.”
Shifting its weight, the ogre raised its right foot and swung it forward.
“And made of rock,” Grew said.
“Maybe no one should fight it,” Edmond said. “Look how slow it is.”
They all watched the ogre shuffling toward them. It seemed even the smallest step was an effort. Its gaze never wavered, though, focusing single-mindedly on Edmond with its club held high.
Edmond stepped to the side of the corridor, then waited while the ogre inched around to face him and started advancing. “We wait for it to get to us, then run past it and through the door.”
“That’s a great idea,” Grew said. “And then, somewhere further down, it catches up and smashes us to a pulp when we’re not looking.”
“I’m open to any better ideas.” Edmond stared at Grew. “No? You don’t have a way to defeat the invulnerable rock monster?”
Grew shrugged. “There’s no need to be mean about it.”
“Let’s get this done,” Daffodil said. “You two fight like rats in a sack of mice.”
Edmond stared Daffodil, stunned at her lack of self-awareness. Her eyes were on the stone ogre, though, so she couldn’t see his look. He turned his own attention to the monster as it moved slower than Mr Winchow opening his wallet. Even with each footfall shaking the ground, the ogre seemed less threatening.
When the monster had halved the distance, Edmond glanced down at the hourglass. “Good enough. Come on.”
They all skirted around the ogre and made it to the door. Reattaching the handle, Edmond eased the door open.
The three creatures in the next room turned to face the door, mouth tentacles probing the air between them. Vestigial wings flared, framing long stinger-tipped tentacles. As one, they hissed.
“We can’t stay here.” Daffodil shoved Edmond through the door as Grew hurried after, then slammed the door behind them. “Now, we only have these monsters to face.”
She was right, they needed to move on; Edmond preferred the ogre to whatever these were though. He drew his sword and unslung his shield, ready to face them. Daffodil stepped up beside him, her own sword ready.
The three monsters clattered toward them, claws screeching on the floor and stingers held high. They were the ugliest collection of random deadly body-parts he’d ever seen. Edmond decided to call them hideobeasts.