by Sam Ryder
Then I thought of Eve and that good feeling vanished. Why should I get to feel anything good when she was dead? Stop it, I commanded myself just as quickly. Eve, of all people, wouldn’t want me to be like this, constantly engaged in a tug-of-war of feelings, certainly not because of what happened to her. She would’ve wanted me to rise above the shit and focus on the goal: rescuing Vrill, recovering the other two goddesses’ hearts, defeating the Morgoss, restoring this world to its previous lightness. Ending the Black forever.
With that in mind, I soldiered on, my pack slapping against my side.
~~~
Running consistently for a few hours, I reached the foothills of the mountains ahead of the Black. Sweat dripped from my brow and chin, sheening my skin with moisture.
I stopped, feeling good. Back on Earth, I would’ve been winded from running to catch the bus. Here I could run for days without tiring. I silently gave thanks to the goddesses for the body that allowed me to do things I’d only dreamed of.
The mountains before me were like dark, jagged teeth munching on the edges of the sky. The silver sun was about to be devoured by them, which meant the Black was imminent. Monsters would crawl out of their hidey holes and charge across the flatlands toward our camp. Our two groups of Protector-led Warriors would face them for about two long hours. If no one on our side died, it would be considered an overwhelming victory.
As I munched on some leafrat skewers and washed them down with water, I remembered Beat’s tale about Munzy’s death. Although the memory sent a pang of sadness infused with anger through me, it also gave me strength. If others could sacrifice for a cause above themselves, I could too. I would, if necessary. Vrill was just such a cause worth dying for.
Reenergized, I started up the gently rising slope, careful not to fall as rocks skittered beneath my feet. The amulet had led me here, to a section of the mountain range off to the right of the tall peaks between which Annakor was situated. I would pass close to the dark fortress, and yet far enough away I wouldn’t have to worry about the demon overlords, not unless they deigned to leave their core defenses.
The slope became steeper as long shadows fell over the foothills. Eventually I was forced to crawl on hands and knees toward where it appeared the terrain leveled out temporarily. Scraping and clawing, I clambered over the rounded edge, rising back to my feet.
Whoa. Set before me was the dark maw of a cave leading into darkness. I didn’t particularly want to go in there, but of course the amulet had different plans. It pointed directly into the darkness.
Hell, what did it matter anyway? Soon the entire world would be cast into darkness, so why not embrace it? Uh, because of all the creepy crawly things that like to live in caves, I thought wryly.
Before the Black fell over me, I struck steel against flint and lit the demontorch in my pack, sparks flying as the flammable blood burst into flame. The path into the mountain was revealed, plunging down like the initial drop of the rollercoaster at Space Mountain.
A loud screech drew my attention toward the sky. Silhouetted against the darkening backdrop, I saw a lone winged creature set out from the mountain peaks above me. I squinted, trying to judge the distance to determine the thing’s size. I was pretty sure it was close, which meant it wasn’t that big. Not the dragon. Therefore, not Vrill. My amulet confirmed as much, continuing to aim into the dark tunnel before me.
More screeches sang out and an entire flock of gargats filled the air. Although the Black hadn’t fully fallen, these freaky winged gargoyle-like creatures were okay so long as the sun was partially blocked. Still, it seemed early even for them. I watched them as they flew toward the Three’s gully, which rose up behind the ward shields in the distance. It was going to be a long Black for Beat, Lace and the others.
I couldn’t help them now. I had to trust them to take care of business the way they always did.
I turned back toward the hole in the mountain. There was nothing for it. I stepped inside.
Silence. The walls were bare. Something dripped onto my shoulder and I flinched, raising the torch to inspect my skin. I expected to see blood, mucus, ichor—something gross. Instead, it looked like water. I craned my head to look up, finding the point of a stalactite staring back at me. As I watched, a drop of moisture ran down its side, hanging for a moment on the tip before dropping, splashing onto my shoulder. I let out a nervous chuckle and walked on.
As steep as the hillside had been to reach this point, the way down into the mountain was steeper. At first I was forced to slide on my ass, which was even less fun than it sounds, especially when wearing only a small-fitting loincloth. Eventually, however, I was forced to turn around and climb down the vertical portions. For the longest climbs, I had to first drop my torch to the bottom to light the way and ensure there was a bottom, and then drop my hammer with a clangor that seemed to echo for an eternity, which would probably call every monster within earshot to me. My hands free, I could scale down to my items, hoping nothing attacked while I was unprotected.
Thankfully, this cave was free of monsters. At least so far. I didn’t expect the trend to continue forever.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of sliding, climbing and maneuvering, the tunnel leveled out. I tried to gauge how long it had taken. An hour? Two? When I’d entered the cave, there was perhaps a half-hour of silver daylight left, which meant the two-hour Black could either be a quarter or three-quarters finished. More likely somewhere in between.
I started forward down a tunnel that was strangely straight and narrow. Even odder were the walls and ceiling, which were as smooth as glass and yet clearly made of stone. A hole appeared on one side, mirrored by an identical one on the opposite wall. The holes were small and round. I shone my torch into one, then the other. Even with my Seeker eyes, I couldn’t see very far, but they appeared to travel straight through the rock like big pipes. Or passageways for little creatures with big appetites.
I tried not to think about that possibility.
Doing that became harder the further I traveled along the level tunnel, because more and more holes appeared. I passed dozens, then hundreds, then thousands. More holes than I could count. Just digging them would’ve taken years, decades, and would’ve required a large workforce.
My first thought was the vostra. They were adept diggers and had the freaky ability to ingest and digest dirt and stone. If so, I’d found the vostra capital of Tor. If they attacked me now, it was over—that much was certain.
I felt a strange tug on my neck, different to the one I’d been feeling since I reached this tunnel. My amulet was moving.
It careened left, aiming into one of the circular tunnels that were far too small to fit my body. “Don’t you do it,” I muttered, but then the gem moved onward, until I could tell it was aiming back the way I’d come.
What the fuck? I turned to look behind me, but the amulet had already changed direction again, swiveling to face the opposite wall now, where there was another hole staring at me. The crimson gem continued to change position, spinning around my neck and causing the chain to bite into my skin. Something was wrong with the amulet, causing the bond with Vrill to malfunction. Was it because I was close to her or because she’d moved out of range? Or was there something about this place, these strangely smooth walls, that was messing with the magic-infused device?
At the moment, the answer didn’t really matter. I had a decision to make. Go back or go forwards. Before the amulet started going haywire, it had been pointing steadily forward. I just had to trust that Vrill was either down here somewhere and the gem would eventually repair itself, or she was on the other side of the mountain, which meant getting through was crucial.
Still, something about the unnaturally smooth walls and ceiling gave me the creeps.
Onward I marched, until the arrow-straight path spilled into a much larger space, a cavern. It was so large, in fact, that the combination of my demontorch and glowing hammer were insufficient to reach past the wall
of darkness that surrounded me on three sides. Walking into the center of an open space seemed like a bad idea—I would be open to attack on all four sides.
Instead, I hung a sharp left and hugged the wall, holding up the torch to inspect the marble-like stone. Shit, I thought as I spotted the first hole. It appeared the same as the others I’d seen thus far, perfectly round and carving a straight tunnel into the rock, except it was larger. If I wanted to, I could squeeze into this one and walk hunched over or shimmy along on my stomach. Neither choice was appealing, not when something smaller could move far quicker and grab my ankles from behind. Or if the holes really were carved by the vostra, they could burrow directly into me from the tunnel walls. Entering the mountain at all might’ve been a bad decision, but entering this smaller tunnel felt like it would be a very bad decision.
I was about to move further along the wall when I spotted something else. A groove cut into the stone. It started out straight, but then curved around the hole and moved higher, before branching out into other grooves, each of which continued, disappearing into the shadows beyond the reach of my light. There was something else.
The grooves looked darkly moist with a substance I was all too familiar with:
Demon’s blood.
A chill ran through me. I bit my lip, willing myself not to do what I already knew I was going to. I took a deep breath and then lifted my torch to the edge of one of the grooves.
The red demonflames from my torch leapt across the space to the wall, catching the black blood immediately. Like a fast-moving lit fuse, it took off, traveling along the groove and branching off anytime there was a split, cascading outward and illuminating the entirety of the space piece by freaky piece.
I staggered back as the whole of the cavern was revealed, my mouth opening from a mixture of awe and horror.
I was in a dome. The walls curved around the outside of the massive space, as well as toward the peak, which connected seamlessly with the opposite side, a continuous ceiling-wall broken only by the additional tunnels cut into its surface with such evenly-spaced precision and uniformity they might’ve been planned and executed by a master architect with a touch of OCD.
There were hundreds, if not thousands, of the tunnels. Without realizing it, I had backed up all the way into the approximate center of the domed area, which made it feel as if each of the tunnels was a gun turret aimed directly at me.
On the opposite side from where I’d entered the space, was another perfectly circular tunnel. Only this one was large. Large enough for me, standing at around six-six, to walk with a straight back and still have plenty of clearance. Long, chalky-white objects littered the floor at the entrance to the tunnel.
Bones.
Awesome.
I frowned, but for a different reason. Initially I’d thought the positioning of the demonfire grooves, while intricate and symmetrical, was intended only for the purpose of lighting the area. But now…taken as a whole…there was something off about it. On a whim, I laid on the ground and looked straight up, like I was back in grade school on a fieldtrip to the planetarium staring at a sea full of stars.
Except instead of stars it was too-red flames fed eternally by the blood of demons.
The flames formed an image.
A giant mouth with dozens of razor-sharp teeth that seemed to snap toward me as the flames roiled and danced.
I stood up quickly, turning in a slow circle and gripping my glowing hammer. The domed area had taken on an entirely different feeling now.
It felt like an arena.
That’s when the first of the shrieks echoed from the tunnels cut into the walls and ceiling. I turned sharply toward the sound, prepared for something to leap at me, but then a similar noise burst from the opposite direction. I spun back, but the sound was a moving target, partly because it was echoing around the dome and partly because it was coming from multiple directions, made by multiple creatures.
I muttered a string of creative expletives under my breath. Why did every mission eventually have to involve me surrounded by monsters looking to chew off various parts of my body?
Once more, I considered my options. I could bolt back the way I came. My Level 4 self was much faster now for a reason. Seekers were not supposed to be a one-trick pony used only to fight monsters in the dark. We—meaning just me at the moment—went on missions to find valuable items that one day might help to turn the tide against the Morgoss. As a Seeker, I was supposed to be smart, agile, able to think on my feet.
And my Seeker self warned me against retreating. I’d already passed thousands of these smaller tunnels, and I was guessing they were all connected somewhere further down the line. Whatever was now hunting me would simply change their route when they heard me fleeing. I’d end up trapped in the main tunnel with even fewer options than I had now.
Option two was to stand and fight. That also felt like the wrong choice. Unless my ears were being fooled, it sounded like there were a lot of creatures heading my way. And by a lot I mean hundreds or more.
Option three would typically involve hiding and trying to ride out the worst of the attack until my foes grew bored and got distracted by something tastier than me. Hiding wasn’t an option. This room was completely empty. Anyway, I was guessing these creatures would be able to easily sniff me out.
The sounds were coming closer and I knew I had to make a decision or be stuck with option two whether I liked it or not. That left the final option:
I booked it for the larger tunnel, the way that led forward. Yup, the one littered with bones.
Whatever was in there, I was hoping it was sleeping or dead or out hunting in the Black.
Unfortunately, I didn’t make it that far, because before I was halfway to the exit a shape leapt from one of the tunnels directly overtop the tunnel. It landed with an open-mouthed cry, revealing needlelike teeth and a long, forked tongue that bristled with something that looked like spikes.
It was a Maluk’ori, but not. The smallish demons I was familiar with had dark slit-like eyes and black skin. They moved fluidly, almost gracefully, lulling their prey into a false sense of security until they ripped out their throats.
This demon bore white, thin skin that was almost clear and seemed to be stretched tight across its bony frame. The skin was translucent enough to see the yellow snake-like veins beneath. Its pale, glassy too-big eyes were void of any color save for a slight pinkish sheen that gave it an albino look, almost like a smaller, lighter version of its darker cousins.
It was pretty freaky-looking, but the worst part of all was the way it moved, with zombie-like jerks and twitches that gave me a full dose of the heeby-jeebies.
It unleashed a shriek, head jerking to the side at the tail end.
And then it leapt.
I swung my hammer hard enough to turn it into albino demon mush, but when I contacted the critter it somehow managed to cling to the end of my weapon. Thankfully, my hammer had been upgraded back at my old friends, the Syrene’s, pool.
A blast of white light shot from the hammer, sending the freak of nature flying back into one of the tubes and giving me a brief window to finish my exit stage left.
Once more, I was thwarted, but this time by more than just one of the creatures.
More than just a few or several. More than a baker’s dozen.
Dozens upon dozens began to spill from the tunnels, moving toward me in that herky-jerky way that made it feel like they were walking on stilts. I swear to you one of them landed facing away and managed to twist its head a hundred and eighty degrees to look at me before the rest of its body caught up.
I had perhaps a few seconds before I was completely overwhelmed by their sheer numbers. I analyzed their movements for any evidence of group coordination. I stepped left and for a few seconds they continued toward where I’d been standing a moment earlier, before finally changing direction toward my new position.
I could sense there was something there, some advantage I could use to giv
e myself a shot at escape. I stepped back to the right, observing my foes carefully. Which was hard considering more of them continued to swarm from the tunnels. I was seconds away from being overrun.
This time, I noticed the constant twitching in the center of their faces, where two parallel nose slits gave them a skeletal look.
They’re smelling me, I realized. Because they’re blind. Or at least half-blind, I suspected. They relied more on smell and hearing than sight, that much seemed certain. And my Seeker body had a knack for moving quietly, which left their sense of smell to deal with. I didn’t have any way to mask my scent, but the delay in them picking up my location whenever I moved was something I needed to figure out how to exploit.
The only problem:
They were closing in on all sides and there was very little room to maneuver between them.
So I did something insane that was the only logical move at that moment. I ran forward with three long steps and jumped as high in the air as I could, using my momentum to launch myself over the heads of the first couple of rows of albino demons, landing hard on one of their heads with a sound like stepping on mushy garbage as it crumpled beneath my weight, its body exploding like a hurled water balloon.
Ignoring the splash of ichor that coated my feet and legs, I spun in a circle, smacking another five or six of them with my hammer, shards of light shooting off in all directions, magical shrapnel that dropped at least a dozen more.
My plan wasn’t to kill them all—there were simply too many. My plan was to get to that bone-littered tunnel and get the fuck out of this domed hellhole. I swung again, clearing some more space that was quickly filled by more demons. More and more tumbled from the tunnels, filling the void with ear-piercing shrieks.
Once more, I spun, holding both my hammer and torch out in more of a defensive posture, trying to ward off any attacks. This time I was too slow. One went high and another low. The one that went high took a glancing blow on the shoulder, the resulting streak of light blasting it away and bowling over three or four more, but the other managed to dive under my swing and latch its teeth onto my ankle.
