Lightfoot

by Joe Kuster

  She fished around in her bag and pulled out a grappling hook from the climbing gear they’d purchased in Larton. Giving it a solid toss, she managed to snare a ladder rung on her first toss.

  From there, she hammered in two pitons into the seam of the door and tied off the rope. She then produced two bottles of goopy chemicals and poured them into a small wooden cup. The label read, ‘Kragle’s Magically Enhanced Expoxy – Sticks Anything to Anything, Guaranteed!’ below that, the fine print added, ‘Not responsible for amputated fingers, eyes, or noses. Consult a healer immediately in case of contact with skin.’

  Kallista stirred the pudding-like sludge with a stick she’d produced from her bag, then skillfully smeared it over the pitons and the seam of the door. “Magical glue has always been in my standard thief’s kit. Sealing doors or making it where windows can’t be closed makes my life easier. I just wish it came on strips of fabric or something. I’m not going to risk triggering something and it slamming the doors shut on us. For all we know, the moment we put weight on the ladder, it seals the exits and floods this hallway with water.”

  TJ’s eyebrows climbed as she spoke. He hadn’t even considered something like that happening. Although, now that she had mentioned it, he was now much more concerned with the tight swirls of the mural of storm clouds near the ceiling that looked like they might be holes big enough to let water in.

  Seeing he was impressed, she teased, “If you can keep your eyes off my ass, you might learn a thing or two, birdbrains.”

  She wrapped a small leather strap around the rope, then slipped it over her shoulders. With the grace of a dancer, she leaned into the harness and eased her athletic legs around the grapple line.

  Rotating face down, she inspected the floor while keeping her ankles looped in place. Pulling out a small tube of brightly colored powder, she dripped a small splotch of red, then another, and another.

  She made a tutting sound. “That is some impressive work. The complex designs make it hard to follow, but I already count five pressure switches.” She chewed on her lip, then frowned. “I know you want to go fast, but I’m willing to bet the hatch won’t open until we disarm the hallway.”

  “Do what you can, Kalli. Is there anything I can do with my detect magic?” he asked.

  She pointed to the first two tiles. “Those are clear, then avoid the paint. The next two tiles are fine… I think. Might as well have you checking for bullshit that I can’t see.”

  Scooting forward on tiptoes, he gently transferred his weight into the room. Kalli shifted to make room, and a thin line of yellow energy instantly caught his attention. He grabbed her arm just before it could hit the magical tripwire.

  Her eyes went wide for a moment, then she slowly pulled back. Taking her powder paint stick, she followed his eyes and marked the trigger on both sides of the hallway. Cocking her head, she reached out with her tail and began prying at a seam with a dagger. Catching the stone face as it popped off with her fingers, she rotated a small catch. There was a solid thud as the surrounding tiles popped up. Working quickly, she removed them and found another set of latches. It appeared that the disarming process involved removing the murals bit by bit.

  He scanned ahead of her, then she moved forward looking for physical traps. This process was repeated as they worked. As it turned out, it was pure luck that her rope hadn’t triggered one as it was almost resting on a reddish line of energy. The process took hours, but eventually, Kalli was confident she had every trigger identified. Over half of the mural tiles now resided in her magical bag.

  As she freed a tile of a woman pouring water, a low grinding sound echoed in the little room. The door at the entry groaned as if trying to slam shut but remained open due to the glue and pitons wedged in place.

  Giving an exhausted grumble, Kallista slid out of the harness and carefully stepped onto the ladder. Poking her head out, she hissed out a whisper, “Seems clear. I’d swear it’s just someone’s basement. I see shelves of preserved vegetables, some dusty furniture, and a piano under a cloth. I’d bet a silver we’re under the real church.”

  TJ slumped against the rungs. He was drained and more than done with this dungeon. He wanted nothing more than to rush out there, yell for the Duchess, and let her deal with the New Order. If he played his cards right, maybe he could track down Rachel’s father, get his signature, then fuck off to the islands instead. He had a feeling he forgot a few steps in there, but they didn’t seem to matter.

  As if reading his thoughts, Rachel gave a disheartened look. Whatever eagerness she’d had evaporated hours ago. She looked ready to curl up in bed and hope for the best. Abby was already asleep in the corner, her attempts at protecting their flank along with Faith having failed miserably.

  Faith danced between the trapped sections, came level with their feet, and meowed loudly.

  “You done with this bullshit too?” TJ muttered.

  Afflicted.

  Lights.

  You should move.

  TJ blinked, confused. “You mean leave? Yeah, that’s the plan.”

  Hallway. Go back.

  Kallista argued, “The hell I am. I’m done with this place. The dungeon can eat a buffet of dicks for all I care.”

  Go now.

  Magical compulsion.

  A tendril of shadow grabbed the map from TJ’s pocket, then the cat dashed back to the gloomy hallway as if to make her point. She dropped the magical item in the shadows just beyond the threshold, then disappeared out of sight.

  “Ugh. Cat, I don’t have time for this,” TJ complained.

  Mumbling curse words, he stumbled toward the room’s exit. He’d invested a lot of time in that map, and he wasn’t going to give it up because some damn furball wanted attention.

  Stepping out of the light, TJ’s senses wavered, and the crushing weight of his exhaustion hit him like a piano off a balcony. He blinked, disoriented as he reached for the folded parchment. He started to go back into the room but paused. Gears in the back of his head began to turn slowly, as though they had rusted solid over the last few hours. Memories of their goals seemed to return slowly.

  He cursed at himself. He wasn’t here to escape the dungeon; he was here to kill it. He still needed to find the herald and a way of desecrating the church too. Somehow all those things had faded out of focus as his irritation overrode everything else.

  He turned to grab the others, but as soon as the light hit his skin, the confusion and irritation returned. Jerking into the darkness, he instantly knew the disorientation would take over his mind again if he crossed the threshold. Somehow the insidious trap was using an effect like Rachel’s broach that confused people. He’d dismissed the threat of the lighting, not realizing it was a cumulative effect.

  He called out, “Kalli, Rachel, grab Abby and get her out of there right now!”

  “Not on your fucking life,” Kalli growled.

  Rachel snarked. “You’d have to drag me. I want to go home!”

  Pushing through his hazy thoughts, he reached out and cast concealing shadows with the target being the ceiling instead of his party. Instantly the light in the room dimmed as darkness coalesced over his party. He intentionally didn’t extend the spell’s immunity to them.

  “The fuck…” Kallista began, then began stumbling around, confused.

  TJ tried again, “Out now! I’ll make that a divine order if you don’t drag your asses out here.”

  Rachel growled, “You wouldn’t.”

  “On your oaths, I order you to grab Abby, and both come here,” TJ hissed.

  Trying to resist, Kalli started to step up the ladder, but a golden glow enveloped her limbs as her magic began stabbing her.

  She screamed in pain and fell to the ground. Growling like a full demon, she swore and began dragging herself towards TJ. Rachel likewise tried to move toward the exit but was slapped down by her magic, leaving her screaming in pain as she curled into a ball. After a full minute of crying and cursing everything he was, t
he two women dragged Abby into the darkness.

  As though a switch had been flipped once they hit the darkness, they both dropped to their knees, struggling with the sinister magical affliction. TJ pumped them both full of healing for the exhaustion and left his magic tied off in their bodies. He didn’t have a spell or potion that could cleanse whatever it had done, but he could at least offer the comfort he could.

  They slumped as the warm and familiar touch settled into place. Tears dripped from their eyes as they whimpered wordlessly. They seemed unable to process the effects of first the magic, and then him forcing their oaths; they clung to one another.

  He inspected himself, trying to figure out why he wasn’t a crumpled mess and found the soft glow Suvbus had left behind. Picking at it, he realized it had been active this entire time, warding him from most of the spell’s impact. At first, he wrote it off as a coincidence, but then remembered the deity in question was the god of foretelling. The old goat had likely known precisely what he was doing when he’d handed out that blessing.

  TJ dropped his back to the wall as he unfurled his map. Jaw clenched tight, he waited, and as he waited, his anger grew. He was done with this fucking dungeon. The slog had dragged on for what felt like forever. He needed to wrap this up and help Serina.

  Taking aim with his crossbow, he fired an enchanted arrow into the glowing ceiling. Given the tight confines, it turned into an instant conflagration as the projectile spewed its sticky flaming liquid. Black smoke billowed up, and soot began to coat every surface. He repeated the process twice more to make sure it was as blackened as possible.

  Waiting for the fire to finally die down, TJ could tell the light was massively diminished.

  Looking to the right, he spotted Faith waiting patiently. She didn’t say anything, but her tail curling back and forth announced her ‘I told you so’ opinion on the matter.

  He dipped his head in appreciation.

  TJ pondered if he could get her demon eyes as a treat. It sounded disgusting, but he certainly owed her something. The subtle brainwashing meant they had been a hairsbreadth from crossing the exit before their task was complete. Undoubtedly, it would have slammed shut, forcing them to go through some confounded new process again.

  Sticking his hand out, he could feel the magical field from the lights, but it was significantly lessened. Sucking in a deep breath, he steeled himself and strode into the exit room.

  Taking his dagger from its sheath, he began prying on the remaining tiles as fast as he could. One after another, they began clattering to the stone at his feet. Stripping one wall, he started on the other, then the floor itself. Only once the last tile was removed did the far wall behind the ladder retract.

  Faith trotted up to his side, glancing up to him wordlessly. He reached down and stroked the little hellion’s furry head. She butted her head into his leg as she followed along at his side.

  The alcove was blinding with layers of magic on top of magic. Sitting atop a pedestal, an azure gem the size of a grape glittered with energy. The core’s plinth was made of solid white stone and had religious-themed etchings for Timarat.

  More sigils were etched on the wall, and from each one, a bubble of protective shielding magic field expanded into the room. The air crackled with barriers for every type of magic he had heard of and dozens more.

  His magic sloshed back and forth, confused. It probed and pushed, but whatever magic wrapped around the dungeon core seemed impenetrable. On a whim, he poked his dagger into the field, but it was as though he were pressing against a stone wall.

  He tried to reach out with his telekinetic magic, but it too slammed into the barrier and dissolved into nothingness.

  “Not so confident now, huh?” a voice said.

  TJ whipped his head back and forth but didn’t see where the feminine voice came from.

  “Come now. Surely you aren’t that dense,” the voice said. After a pause, a sardonic laugh filled the room. “Although, I suppose you did stop in the middle of a dungeon to get laid and got most of your party captured.”

  TJ swallowed hard. “You’re the dungeon?”

  The sound of an unenthused sigh emanated from around the room, and the voice took on a sarcastic tone. “As they say, winner, winner, chicken dinner.”

  TJ eyed the stone. “You don’t seem worried that I plan on killing you.”

  “You’ve already probed my defenses. You have no spells or talents that I can’t nullify. Also, before you get any ideas, physical attacks are likewise protected. Your little arrows won’t do anything other than making it smokey in here. I’ve seen every type of magic known to exist in this realm and created a barrier for each. Your dinky little goddess could be sitting right here, and there’s nothing she could do either, so no, I’m not worried about some newbie warlock and his amateur-hour battle harem.”

  TJ eyed the sigil for protecting against shadow magic, then glanced down at Faith.

  The dungeon said, “Go ahead. I’ll consider it a freebie to prove why this is useless, and you should just go home.”

  Shrugging, TJ lashed out with a shadow bolt, but it dissolved into nothing. The energy withered and disappeared into the churn of magic around the stone. Faith likewise slashed out with one of her tendrils, but it turned to vapor when it touched the magical field.

  “Satisfied?” it asked.

  TJ frowned. “Not in the least. I can’t let you help the New Order like this. I’ve also got a divine mission to free a herald.”

  The dungeon snorted. “Bah, I told them not to store that here. Things like that always attract a pissed off deity that doesn’t mind sending ‘chosen one’ after ‘chosen one.’ It’s stupid. There’s a storage compartment in my stand. They made it for all the dirty little secrets they have. That’s what you’re looking for, and no, I can’t give it to you. Oaths are oaths. You should know all about those, little warlock.”

  “So you’re sworn to Timarat?” he asked.

  It replied, “Meh. Ever had a girlfriend that you thought was cool, only to move in with them and find out they were a conniving bitch? They get all controlling and borderline abusive, and you know you should leave, but the utilities are in their name, and the sex is just a little too hard to give up? It’s kinda like that. So, yeah, Timarat is a bit of an asshole stripping me of power to fuel the invasion, but I get all the prisoners and bodies if I support his stupid little religion. I would rather tell everyone to fuck off so I can read in peace, but dungeons can’t survive like that. Skulls for the skull thrones and all that jazz.”

  “Utilities? Jazz? I…” TJ began, then stopped. He might as well have been talking to Serina with how it was talking over his head. Like Serina, the dungeon probably had insights into other realms, which made conversations incredibly confusing.

  He pushed his magic harder around the edges of the containment spell, but it faltered the moment it touched the boundary. It was clear the voice wasn’t lying about that. He thrashed his dagger harder into the air, causing the blade to snap off with a ping.

  He tossed the now broken weapon to the floor. He needed something the dungeon hadn’t prepared for. Something that no sane person would—

  He stopped as an idiot idea hit him.

  Tugging on Faith’s magic, he pulled her attention and subtly pointed toward the glyph that blocked his kinetic magic. Bracing himself for the ‘if you can’t do anything smart, do something stupid’ moment his father always said would come, he pulled up his first offensive ‘spell’ as his molten core of power was squished into his fingertips.

  It resisted him, struggling to avoid his request. It fought back, insisting that he had real spells, and causing uncontrolled ruptures in his essence container was dangerous and stupid. TJ gritted his teeth, not in disagreement, but willing it to happen anyway.

  Where it was painful before, the increase in his essence’s density made it excruciating. He extended his hand towards the shadow protection glyph, and a scream of pain crossed his lips as a gian
t sparkling mass of raw mana spewed forth. The rock anchoring the spell exploded under the onslaught. Excess unformed essence splashed against the wall, turning into a bowl of petunias.

  Moving with incredible speed, and ignoring the flowerpot falling to the floor, Faith launched her attack. A shadow tendril slashed into the carving for kinetic force, then the following three wards in the process.

  Still panting from the pain, he shifted his attention and jerked hard on the stone with his magic. It shot through the air, and he snatched it. He glared at the glittering blue rock in his hand as Faith continued her attack, disarming the magical barriers one at a time.

  “Whoa, there, hey now, let’s talk about this!” the dungeon backpedaled.

  TJ’s fists began to glow as he started applying a massive amount of magical pressure on the rock.

  The dungeon squealed out, “Hey, hey now… I, uhm… yeah, so the pedestal is all yours! Have fun with that, now put me down!”

  TJ hissed. “And why the fuck would I do that?”

  “Uhhhhhhh……”

  Ramping up the force spell, the core began to creak as tiny cracks started to form.

  “Stop, come on, TJ, I’m just doing what I have to. Fine, I’ll… well, I can’t help. Not yet. But if you break the finger bones inside the pedestal, that’ll break my oath to Timarat and desecrate his anchor. If you do that, I’ll… I… well, just don’t kill me, ok? Let me make a deal with your goddess or something.”

  TJ hissed. “I can’t. She’s dying because those asshats drained her. She’s not anchored to this realm, so I can’t save her. Better talk fast because I’m not going to stop.”

  Destroy bones?

  TJ nodded to Faith, not looking away from the core. He didn’t trust it.

  There was a sharp crack and blue shimmer in the air as some sort of magic was released.

  Done.

  The air around him somehow felt different, but he couldn’t place precisely how, beyond being slightly less oppressive. Somewhere in the back of his head, he suspected that Timarat losing his prime anchor would reduce his follower’s powers. That sounded like a good thing, but that also meant that the Traditionalists, who were primarily healers, would be impacted as well. Given their roles in the surrounding villages, some innocents were likely to die because of it, but TJ couldn’t bring himself to care. Not after what they’d done.