Dungeon Deposed

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Dungeon Deposed Page 37

by William D. Arand


  Did she just blast them with something? The fuck. Didn’t hurt me though.

  Maybe I made a monster.

  Whatever.

  “Kill that champion if you get a chance. Kill both,” Ryker said.

  Or tried to say. It sounded right in his head, but he wasn’t sure if it came out right, or as if he had a mouth full of a sock.

  Pulling the hood back up over his head, he pulled it down low. Doing his best to hide his face.

  Focusing on his spellwork, Ryker went through the rapid process of pulling up his dungeon control spell.

  He wanted to ask Charlotte where everyone was.

  Except, the spell failed.

  Nothing happened.

  Ryker started to rebuild the spell, bit by bit, and realized he couldn’t concentrate.

  That or he had suddenly lost the ability to cast.

  Considering he could hear a faint clicking noise in the back of his head, and his thoughts themselves felt loose, he was betting more on a concussion. Given that he could barely keep standing, it didn’t seem to unlikely that he’d knocked his brain around.

  “Wynne?” he said cautiously.

  “Yes?” Her response was tight. Controlled. It was clear she was busy.

  “Any chance you can ask Charlotte something?”

  “I’m afraid not, my king. I’m holding the core together as it repairs itself.”

  Must be worse than she made it out to be.

  “Okay. Thanks for keeping it together.”

  No response came from Wynne, but he knew she was there.

  Just very busy.

  Taking a slow and deliberate breath, Ryker readied himself. He needed to set off towards the mansion to see if he could find the girls.

  That was the plan, find the ladies.

  Cautiously, nervously, Ryker took a step.

  Then another.

  Followed by a third.

  His head felt as if it were made of broken glass and filled with water, but he was moving.

  Shambling along like the living dead, he kept moving.

  He couldn’t stop, honestly, because he wasn’t sure he could get moving again. Beyond that though, he didn’t think he had time to wait.

  Numbingly, achingly, he trudged on. One step at a time.

  After an interminable amount of time, he found himself staring up at the mansion he’d been sharing with Diane.

  Adele and Claire were supposed to be here today to do some document signing with her.

  He hadn’t really paid attention to what those documents were, or why, but he was glad they were all in one spot.

  On the way over he’d somehow managed to convince himself to offer Diane a way out.

  Unlikely as the odds of her actually taking it were, he still wanted to offer it.

  “Wynne? Any possibility of having Arria open up a pathway for me?” Ryker asked her through the bond.

  “No. I’m afraid not. We’re recovering, but it’s going to be a while before we can do anything like we did. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Wynne said.

  Great. On my own still.

  If he could manage to find some healing, it’d help. He didn’t feel as bad as he did when he first set out, but he wasn’t doing well.

  Potion, magic, or otherwise.

  I’d take a midwife at this point.

  Grumbling under his breath, Ryker started walking up the steps to the front doors. Pulling down his hood as he went, he hoped he could be passed through without a fuss. He was sorely mistaken again, as both door guards rushed him, one on each side of him.

  “Sir!”

  “M’lord!”

  “Yeah, I’m a bit messed up. See if you can’t scrounge up some healing potions for me? That’d be great,” Ryker said when they got close to him.

  “Of course!” they said at the same time, leaving Ryker alone.

  Opening the door, he went inside before he had to deal with anything else.

  Listening for a moment, he couldn’t figure out where they were since he didn’t hear a damn thing. Fearing that he had no time to waste, he went straight to the main room he worked out of with Claire, hoping to find them all there.

  Sticking his head in, he found no one.

  Annoyed, and worried, he started to systematically check all the rooms one by one.

  After looking into a broom closet, he realized they weren’t there.

  “Here, sir, drink this,” said a guard, rushing up to him. A potion was clutched in his hands.

  Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, Ryker took it, unstopped it, and downed it without a thought.

  Shuddering as the potion took effect, he felt considerably better. Not one hundred percent, but not the walking wounded.

  His head didn’t feel as delicate, and his ability to think was markedly better.

  “Gah, the taste never gets any better, does it? Much appreciated though, put yourself in for a commendation. I’ll make sure it gets paid out,” Ryker said.

  “Sir, yes sir.”

  Nodding Ryker handed the empty potion to the guard and went back outside.

  He needed to find the ladies.

  And with the city descending into madness with the champions’ all-out brawl, the sooner the better.

  Turning his attention inward, Ryker started to build the spell.

  In his mind he couldn’t help but replay the last time he tried and the spell failed. That he couldn’t get the spell up and working.

  Doubt was one of the greatest evils when it came to spellwork. It crept in and subverted every mana path.

  Little young to be worrying about not being able to perform. Maybe there’s a potion for it.

  Smirking at his own thought, the anxiety vanished like a fire doused in water.

  The spell bloomed and sprang into being.

  “We’re at the barracks. I have someone trailing you to keep an eye on you. Just in case you need a hand,” Charlotte said before he could even ask. “And I knew because everyone knows when you enter the dungeon sense. It’s… a very direct feeling when you do so.”

  “Huh. Is that it?” he asked. Secretly he wondered if they really could read his mind.

  “Yes,” Tris said immediately, chiming in.

  Ryker felt better at that. Tris didn’t have a deceitful bone in her body.

  “The city is getting worse,” Marybelle added. “Be careful out there. The church soldiers are simply attacking anyone and everyone. The champions are still battling. The city guards are doing what they can, but there’s just too many soldiers of the light.”

  Ryker nodded his head.

  The barracks would be a good place to hold out. It’d be the highest concentration of loyal soldiers.

  It’d also be the second place to fall under siege.

  Right behind the governor’s mansion.

  Taking off at a light jog, Ryker kept to the backstreets and alleyways. Getting on the main road was the last thing he wanted to do right now. It’d only make him a target.

  Regardless of a Fairy following him or not, he sincerely doubted anyone, or anything, could stop a crossbow bolt in midflight.

  Based on the brief times where he had to get from alley to alley, the main streets were where the real hell of a war was being acted out.

  Murder, rape, looting, all in spades.

  Dungeon was a sacked city. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

  “How’s the farmhouse look?” Ryker asked.

  “It’s classified as part of the dungeon, so it’s fair to defend it,” Marybelle replied. “I hold the homestead and am keeping it safe. Besides, each time they attack, it only gives Wynne more power to stop the core from breaking apart.”

  Breaking apart? Holy shit. It really is worse than she admitted.

  “Got it. Thanks. I’m going to grab the ladies and make my way there. Has anyone seen my familiar? Last seen with Diane.”

  “It will still be with her, as it is nowhere else, and you’d know if it were dea
d,” Tris said.

  That all made perfectly logical sense.

  Peering out from the tiny alley he was in, Ryker could see the guard barracks up ahead. The city soldiers held the building.

  Or so Ryker assumed since there was a ring of temple soldiers encircling it. They wouldn’t be doing that if they had already taken it over.

  In front of him were a handful of armed church troops. They weren’t looking around or watching their rear.

  Intent on their goal, they were staring at the barracks.

  To be precise, a window. A guarded window that would be a death trap for someone to try and crawl through.

  Perfect for me though.

  A quick count told him that there were probably ten who could get to him before he could reach the window itself.

  Chewing on his lip, Ryker thought quickly about how he wanted to do this. If the window was the goal, those ten people were the only issue.

  He doubted whoever was guarding the window would bar him entry.

  For combat, lightning was his go-to spell since the mana costs were relatively low for the power it put out.

  The biggest problem with lightning was it tended to need a lot of control and planning.

  Both things he was actually good at when it came to spells.

  Unfortunately he wasn’t sure he had enough juice to take all of them out.

  Getting a familiar had boosted him up to a level that was far beyond what he’d ever hoped to achieve, but he was still considerably weaker than anyone else with the same amount of experience and ability levels.

  Spinning up a branching lightning spell, he built the channels out of delicate strands of mana. They’d last long enough to direct the spell, but reaching the target might be a bit much. Especially for the forks that were going to reach towards the furthest ends of the line.

  Normally he’d try to kill everyone outright with this spell. But by limiting the power, and going for a stun instead of killing them, Ryker could budget his paltry amount of mana.

  Tightening the spell up, he let his mana fill the forms slowly.

  By moving slow, he could limit the amount of bleed that would happen when one sped a spell along quickly.

  Bleed was wasted mana in Ryker’s eyes.

  Standing still in the alleyway, he felt for all the world like a fool. Waiting for someone to walk up and stab him in the back as he painstakingly put together his attack.

  The very moment it was ready, he simply activated the spell and ran forward at a dead sprint.

  Arcing out from his hands, lightning splayed out in multiple forks.

  Seven of those bolts hit their targets, three missed.

  Ryker was rapidly closing in on his target, the guard at the window seeing him and immediately pulling back.

  Making room for him to enter.

  Gasping, realizing he wasn’t as healed as he had thought, Ryker held a hand to his side where it felt like his ribs were splitting apart.

  The three guards who hadn’t been struck were moving towards him now. He could see them at the edge of his vision.

  He wasn’t going to make it if he climbed through. A sword tip would skewer him from back to front as he clambered in.

  Fuck it.

  Gathering himself up for another stupid act of desperation, he did his best to gauge the distance to the window and his speed.

  Springing forward, Ryker dove through the air. Straightening out for all that he was worth, he hoped to just clear the windowsill and slide in.

  Unfortunately, he missed.

  Crashing through the glass of the upper portion of the window, Ryker closed his eyes. Glass, bits of wood, and plaster rained down around him as he slammed into carpeted hallway. Rolling over onto his back, Ryker tried to take in a breath but couldn’t. The landing had knocked the wind out of him.

  All he managed was a partial gasp, his diaphragm tight and unyielding.

  “The fuck. Ryker?” asked Adele, staring down at him.

  Grimacing and managing a smile at the same time, Ryker waved a hand at her.

  If he ever managed to catch a breath, he planned to ask her where everyone else was.

  “Ryker?” Diane said, appearing next to Adele.

  Behind her was Claire.

  All three women were staring at him with varying levels of concern and pity.

  Nodding his head, Ryker held up his hand in the universal sign of “wait a second.”

  Adele snorted, folding her arms across her chest. At the same time, Diane chuckled, and leaned down over him.

  Using a fingertip, she lightly brushed his hair back from his eyes.

  “The reports we’re getting are that two champions, presumably light and dark, are battling in the city,” she said

  “The church soldiers started attacking the city guard in the confusion, and now our poor city is ground zero for a religious war it wasn’t ever expecting.”

  Face pulled down in a sad frown, Diane shook her head a bit. “And we’re trapped here. Waiting for the vicar to decide if he wants to wipe us out and blame it on the dark champion. All for mother’s ambition. To top it off, a report came in from the checkpoint guard. One that concerns you, that I found particularly depressing.”

  Ryker choked out a breath, and coughed twice.

  Shit. She knows.

  “I can save us,” Ryker squeaked out.

  No one seemed to understand him.

  Sitting up, he managed to get to his feet. Barely getting hold of his breathing, he tried again.

  “I can save us. But first things first,” Ryker said, then gestured to a room next to them. He knew it was a small conference room, and it was perfect for this conversation.

  All three women watched him skeptically, before finally entering.

  Ryker entered after them immediately and shut the door.

  “About the guard report,” Ryker began. Taking a deep breath, he held his arms out beside him. “I’m not cheating on you, I’m betraying your mother. I’ve been working for Queen Lauren this entire time. The person I helped get out of the city was an agent of the dark church, with information for Lauren.”

  In all her glorious inept political acumen, Adele didn’t look surprised. Didn’t even act surprised.

  So when the shocked Diane turned around to look at the other women, saw Claire who looked surprised, and Adele who didn’t, she immediately knew what was going on.

  “I see,” she said, turning back to Ryker.

  “Your mother started a civil war for the sake of her own power. Nothing else. I had hoped that if I supported Lauren I could end the whole thing quicker. Instead, she brought the country into a proxy war,” Ryker explained.

  Diane turned her face down and to the side, her hands pressed to her stomach.

  She looks sickened.

  “I can get us out of this. The dungeon will protect us all. We’ll also need to have a much longer conversation about the dungeon once we’re safe. But we’re running low on time. Kinda need to leave. Immediately, if possible. Adele? You in?”

  “Let’s get this shit show on the road,” she said.

  “Claire?” Ryker asked, looking to her.

  “Of course,” she said, then sighed, shaking her head. “I got caught up in it all and just… accepted it.”

  You sure did.

  “Diane…?” Ryker asked.

  “I don’t… why even ask me? How do you know I won’t do the same thing you did?”

  “Errr. I don’t. I don’t know you won’t. But I care… care about you. Bordering on love, really. You’re an amazing lady with a fun personality. And I want to believe that you realize I wasn’t betraying you at all. That you see how badly your mother is screwing all this up,” Ryker admitted. “I mean, maybe it’s just me, but I got the feeling she was willing to sacrifice both of us for her goals. And that maybe… maybe you feel the same way about me, that I do for you.”

  Diane pressed a hand to her temple, torn.

  “Okay,” she said after
a moment. “I’ll go with you. Because I do care for you, too. And I’d rather not be a divorcee so quickly. Besides… if you wanted me gone, you had every opportunity before this. Some even handed to you.”

  She lifted her head up, and gave him a tired smile.

  Then Claire punched him in the side. Before he could react, she sprinted out of the conference room, and vanished into the hallway.

  “Miss Chas! Lady Claire just dove out the window!” a soldier called.

  Looking down, Ryker saw the hilt of a blade jutting out from where Claire had struck him.

  Blood was pouring out around the blade and down his side.

  Chapter 35- Egress -

  Ryker collapsed to his knees as he wrapped his hand around the blade.

  He tried not to move it much. Pulling it out right now would only make everything worse.

  It’s deep. Very deep. I’m not sure it’ll clot before I bleed out.

  Options, options. What options do we have?

  He could hear faint noises from around him and outside, but he refused to pay it any mind.

  With each beat of his heart, he got closer and closer to simply being a corpse.

  Potions are out, took one earlier.

  No healers nearby, and those that are, probably serve the light. Probably won’t help me.

  Bandage would work, if I had more time for it to clot.

  Tar crawled up his leg, staring up at him. There was worry in those eyes. The familiar had recently been showing signs of maturing and mentally becoming an adult.

  Digging through his memories, he clawed at his dungeoneering classes. They were hosted by veterans who dove regularly and tended to provide information you wouldn’t get in normal classes or textbooks.

  Most of it was worthless, usable in only one-off situations.

  His mind pulled up a single memory that seemed possible.

  Cauterizing the wound and hoping it wasn’t so bad that he couldn’t get to Marybelle before he probably died. The veteran who had made the suggestion and spoken about it had emphasized how often cauterization made wounds go foul.

  Foul and lethal.

  She’d proposed that one could use fire or directed lightning, as both would sear the flesh.

  Okay. So… fire or lightning into the wound, hope it closes, get to Marybelle.

  Better find out where she is after this. Get to her as quick as possible. She’s not a perfect healer, but she’ll get me back on my feet.

 

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