The Builder's Throne

by J. A. Cipriano

  As it lay there, I tore Caliburn violently free of the monster just in case it had any notions about still being alive. My lungs burned, and my heart hammered, letting me know I had only a few seconds before I needed to breathe. After that, all bets were off.

  Only, Jophiel had said the altar was down here somewhere. I had to find it.

  I swam downward, using all my strength and speed to make my way through the gelatinous goop even though I knew I should be heading toward the surface.

  That’s when I felt it. The pulse of the dungeon’s core below me, rippling out in a wave of anger and hate. If I could destroy that core, I could free this place of the darkness. Then I’d just have to deal with the guardian—

  Something grabbed me by the ankle and the next thing I knew I was being flung violently away. My body burst from the darkness, and the sudden change in both temperature and surroundings made me cry out. It was so cold, so much colder than the murk had been. Then I slammed into the ceiling. Pain exploded through me, and my vision went blurry.

  My eyes struggled to adjust right as the bat-bird swarm hit me in the chest and I felt a million mouths and claws dig into me. The shrieks of the bats filled my ears as they suffered seven-fold damage, but they also didn’t seem to care. They kept ripping into me, causing enough damage that it was outpacing my healing ability.

  A fireball hit me in the chest as I plummeted down to earth, throwing me back into the air as fresh agony swept over me.

  I wasn’t sure what in the blue hell had hit me, but I knew one thing. Where it had come from. Biting my lip, I tried to ignore the flapping bats because they couldn’t really kill me. No, they were meant to distract me, and they were succeeding. I couldn’t let them do it. If they did, the General would show up, and we’d just be dead because there was no way we’d make it back out of here in time.

  As another fireball flew toward me, I flung one of my own. They collided in an explosion of force that flung me around like a ragdoll, but this time, I’d been ready for it, so as the shockwave threw me upward, I reached out with the power of Greed because what I really wanted was to melee the fuck out of the boss.

  I felt the power latch on to something down there, and a moment later it was rocketing toward me. The winged lich hit me a second later, using the momentum I’d given it to drive a jeweled staff into my chest. My ethereal armor shattered as breath shot from my lungs. As spittle sprayed across the creature’s bony face, it lashed out with a knife, driving it into my unprotected side over and over again.

  The feel of the creature’s weapon piercing me brought a burst of cold that chilled me to the core, and as my scream of pain came out in a burst of fog, I heard it cry out in agony as the damage was reflected back.

  It leaped backward, huge wings flapping as it released its hold on me. I slammed into the murky goop a second later and looked up at a huge skeletal creature that vaguely resembled a winged centaur. I’d never seen anything quite like it before, but then again, I’d barely fought any of the dungeon keepers.

  “Why are you here, Builder?” it asked, head cocked to the side in confusion. “Why do you slay my pets?”

  “What do you mean?” I said, shaking my head. “You know why I am here.”

  “I do not—”

  Its words were cut off as Jophiel’s kusarigama wrapped around its throat before flaring like the sun, melting through the bones and rotten tissue and filling the air with the stink of charred meat. As its body fell, revealing the Archangel behind it, wings outstretched as she recalled her weapon, she gestured toward the far wall.

  “Get the key. Quickly.” She glanced back toward the entrance. “We haven’t much time.”

  “You know I had him, right?” I growled, suddenly annoyed. It was a unique monster, and I’d wanted to kill it myself.

  “Yes.” There was so much knowledge in that word that I believed her. She knew I’d have won. “I was saving you time, which we have little enough of.” She pointed at the alcove once more. “Get the key.”

  That’s when I felt the cold chill of the General like an icy spider crawling down my back. It was here and getting closer.

  “Right.” I scrambled to my feet, and focusing my power, leaped toward the alcove. My magically fueled muscles propelled me toward the spot, and I slammed into the alcove. I stood there, staring at the only object up here. A tiny wooden chair. There was no way it should have formed to fit a creature like the one we had just fought. For one, it was too small.

  “Jophiel, so you’ve dared to show your face.” The General’s voice struck me like a dagger.

  “Ten. I should have known they’d send the lowest.” She snorted derisively. “You know you won’t beat me.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” The General laughed. “But you are ancillary.” I felt his gaze burn a hole in my back. “He is the real prize.” His voice got louder. “Builder, know I will claim your skull as a prize. I will strip the meat off it while you still breathe, and do you know the best part? You’ll heal. Your power will keep you alive until I decide I am through with you.”

  I ignored him as best I could as I looked around for the key. Only I didn’t see it anywhere. I reached out toward the chair, and as I did, a mouth appeared on the seat. Rows and rows of teeth glinted in the low light as a giant pink tongue lashed out at me. It was a goddamned mimic.

  As the creature’s sticky tongue tried to spear me, I stepped sideways just as the General appeared behind me. It hit the General’s chest with a wet thwack before jerking violently back into its mouth. The General stumbled, caught off guard, and I reacted, slamming my shoulder into his chest as he came forward.

  The blow rocked the Dark General backward half a step while the mimic redoubled its efforts, pulling him forward again. Once again, I shoulder checked the bastard. He stumbled backward once more, and this time his left foot stepped off the edge.

  He teetered backward, hands whipping out for balance while I brought Caliburn up. I braced the blade against my shoulder right as the mimic pulled on the General once more. My sword stabbed into his chest, piercing his armor like it was tinfoil before ripping out his back in a spray of dark ichor.

  “Say goodbye, dickbag,” I snarled, unleashing a sapphire blast inside him just like I’d done with the kraken below. The blast blew him backward, and a resounding snap filled the air as the mimic’s tongue ripped out of its mouth, sending gobbets of yellow monster blood flying in every direction.

  The Dark General careened backward, his body flying across the room before slamming into the stone on the other side.

  There was just one problem. Even as his head bounced off the wall, the wound I’d dealt him had already closed over, leaving fresh, pink skin visible beneath the hole in his armor. The son of a bitch could heal. Fuck.

  The snapping of teeth drew me back to what I was doing, and I turned to find the chair had scooted itself closer on spindly, spider-like legs. Its maw snapped shut as it tried to bite at me, but I was too quick for the thing. With one deft movement, I soccer-kicked the creature right between the legs. The sound of faux wood snapping like kindling filled my ears as my foot damned-near cleaved it in half.

  As bits of monster rained down around me, something glinted in the darkness where it’d once stood. Reaching forward, I managed to grab it right before something grabbed me by the ankle and flung me across the room. My body smashed into the far wall with a resounding crack before I tumbled to the ground beside Jophiel.

  The General stood in the far alcove as the damage returned to him, but if he noticed it, I couldn’t tell.

  “Arthur, we must flee,” Jophiel said, grabbing my arm and trying to pull me to my feet.

  “We won’t make it,” I said as the General stepped off the platform and landed on the other side of the room. Muck flew in every direction as he turned his withering gaze upon me.

  “No. You won’t.” He smiled eerily. His thin lips stretching out across his thin bony face. “All you can do is die.” He held out his hand.
“Give me the key, Arthur, and I’ll let your angel live.”

  He was behind me in an instant, one hand wrapped around the back of Jophiel’s neck as he lifted her from the ground like she was weightless.

  “On second thought. I’ll just kill you both and take it.”

  11

  The tip of Michelle’s whip-sword burst through the General’s chest, splattering me with gore. Jophiel slipped from, his grip as the General looked down at the sword protruding from the chink I’d cut in his armor in confusion.

  Michelle ripped the sword violently outward, splitting him open in a downward arc that spilled blood and thicker bits across the ground. As he started to slump, she hit him again, taking his knees out from under him in a fell swoop that dropped him flat on his back.

  “I thought you said they were tough,” Michelle said, one shapely eyebrow arching upward as she looked at me. “Clearly you need more training.”

  “How are you here?” I asked as the General started to reform, only rather than let him do that, I drove Caliburn through his face. The blade split his skull open, spilling viscous brain matter across the ground, but even still, I could tell it wouldn’t take him down for very long which was absolutely insane.

  “I followed you.” She met my eyes. “Clearly, I was wise to do so.” Her gaze flicked to Jophiel. “Since you are working with her.”

  “Jophiel, how do we kill him?” I snarled, ignoring her remark because now wasn’t the time. “There must be a way.”

  “You have to rip out his core.” She pointed at his chest. “It is the only way.”

  “Right,” I said, reaching out toward him with the power of Greed and trying to mimic the same attack I’d used to tear the cores from other creatures. Only it didn’t work at all. I couldn’t feel the core within him. “It’s not working.”

  Michelle hit him again, trying to buy us time, but instead of piercing him, the blow merely bounced off of his armor.

  “How is this possible?” she asked, concern filling her voice.

  “You are not powerful enough to break his armor. You only succeeded before because you struck his skin directly,” Jophiel said, turning her gaze to Michelle. “We should flee unless you have another way?”

  “I do.” Michelle took a deep breath and pulled a glowing white ball of light from the satchel on her hip. “But I can only take two.”

  “I will be fine.” Jophiel met my eyes. “Find a host for Belial. I will find you.”

  As I opened my mouth to respond, Jophiel took off running past me, bursting through the entrance and disappearing as the General started to rise.

  “Don’t go,” he croaked, eyes meeting mine. “Stay and fight like a man.”

  I kicked him in the face, snapping his head backward. But even that didn’t stop him from vaulting to his feet.

  “Arthur.” Michelle put her hand on my shoulder. “Hang on.”

  The next thing I knew the world was an explosion of light, color, and sound. Then we were standing back in the middle of Heaven.

  The sounds of construction echoed all around me even though I could still see the General’s leering face in my mind’s eye.

  “That was close,” I said, taking a deep breath, only as I turned to look at Michelle, I saw she was bleeding from her lips. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” she hissed, meeting my eyes. “Because today is the day I realize how right you are.” She tried to straighten and winced.

  “That doesn’t seem like the only thing wrong with you, Michelle,” I said, moving forward to support her as she collapsed against me.

  “That mode of fast travel takes a lot out of me. I will recover.” She met my eyes. “I would ask why you are working with Jophiel, but I have no right. Not after disbelieving you about what we were up against.” She shook her head. “Even still …”

  “I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t have you doubt me again.” I looked down at my feet, suddenly feeling bad for deceiving her.

  “We are both at fault, Arthur.” Michelle fingered the talisman around her neck, and I realized it was the same one Sam had made for me. “But I had to know if you were crazy or not … It is why I let you go, why I followed in secret. Admittedly, I was surprised to see you with Jophiel …” She met my eyes. “She is intelligent, but she has no sense of empathy, no regard for people in the traditional sense. You cannot trust her.” Michelle shook her head. “She would let a village full of people die with the same callousness as you would step on an ant.”

  “I sort of got that.” I tightened my grip on the key. “Any idea what this does?”

  “No.” Michelle shook her head and sucked in a deep breath. “You should bring it to Raphael.” She gave me a weak smile. “I require healing.”

  “Right.” I moved forward, carrying her along with me until we reached the infirmary. Part of me wanted to stay, but it quickly became obvious that neither she nor Sally wanted me to stay, so I took my leave.

  12

  As per usual, Raphael and her stupid Archive knew nothing about the key. On the one hand, it wasn’t surprising since they didn’t actually have a lot of information on anything within the Darkness, but on the other, it was infuriating. She ought to have known what the key did.

  Still, there was no use in getting angrier at the Archangel about it. That wouldn’t help, especially when there was so much to do.

  Reaching into my pocket, I felt the crystal that contained the Essence of Gluttony. I needed to find a host for it, and I knew just the person.

  “Hello, Annabeth,” I said, walking up to the sculptor as she worked on a massive hunk of marble in the section of Heaven I classified as her studio. It was still a roughhewn piece, and judging by the half-formed ones filling the area, I was willing to bet this one wouldn’t make the cut either. For one, it just wasn’t up to her usual standards, and for two, well, she was glaring at it like it’d stolen her lunch money.

  “Hello, Arthur,” she snapped, not taking her eyes off the piece.

  “Having trouble?” I asked, approaching her and looking over the dragon. “I really like what you’ve done with the fangs.” I pointed at them. “They seem real.”

  “What grade is this piece?” she asked, glancing at me.

  The Mighty Dragon

  Class: Sculpture

  Material: Marble

  Grade: Unfinished

  “Unfinished,” I said after a quick glance at the stats. “Why?”

  “I just wondered,” she said in a way that let me know there was more to it.

  “I don’t believe you—”

  “Drop it.” She turned to look at me. “Do you need something?” She sighed before I could say anything. “Sorry, I’m being kind of a bitch.” She gave me a weak smile. “It’s not you, really.”

  “Okay …” I shrugged. “I’m totally willing to talk to you though. You can’t just work all the time.”

  “I can, actually.” She glared at me. “Every moment I rest or stop, there is someone else out there still working, still training. They will surpass me if I let them, and those ahead will pull further away.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re the best Sculptor in both Heaven and Hell.” I shrugged.

  “When was the last time you slept?” She met my eyes. “Because I know you say you sleep and then go hunting or training.” She touched her chest. “This is what I can do to help. I can create sculptures to increase our fighting ability.”

  “Right.” I nodded. “I appreciate it.” I touched her cheek with one knuckle. “But you look exhausted. You need to sleep. To take an hour to let your brain recharge.” I gestured at the sculpture graveyard. “You have almost fifty statues here, none of which are finished and all of which are very similar. I get you’re probably trying to perfect something here, but beating your head against this one design probably won’t help.”

  “You could take your own advice, you know,” she said before yawning. “When you carry all this on your shoulders, it makes us want to work harder,
so we can ease that burden.” She touched my hand with her own, and her warmth seeped into me. “You want me to take a break? Lead by example.”

  “I’ll go take a nap after we’re done here.” I smiled at her and pulled out the crystal. “I have something for you.”

  “What the hell is that?” Annabeth squinched up her face as she stared at the rock like it was made of dog shit.

  “It’s the essence of the Archangel of Gluttony. With it, you can become the new Gluttony.” I’d thought my words would please her, but they did anything but.

  “And why would I want that?” She gave me a sour look. “I don’t know anything about food, or…” she paused and touched her stomach. “Do you think I’m fat?”

  “What? God no.” I shook my head as she lifted her shirt and stared at her flat stomach, and I realized I could literally see her ribs sticking out.

  “Then why would you want me to be Gluttony, assuming I even could become Gluttony?” She dropped her shirt and shuffled slightly like she was trying to hide from view.

  “Wait, why couldn’t you become Gluttony?” I asked, suddenly confused. “Don’t you just take the crystal or whatever? That’s what Gwen did …”

  “Gwen took over Lust, and she’s a succubus. That power meshes …” She shook her head. “I’m not a chef or anything, and I’m a totally different classification of demon from Belial.”

  “You’re totally a chef. You always make lunches, and you make the grass porridge.” I smiled. “It’s great.”

  “Hardly.” She crossed her arms. “You need to find someone else, someone more suited to that power. Otherwise, I’d probably just die, and Belial would take over my body.” She shook her head. “Either way, I’d be different, and I like being me.” She looked at her feet. “I mean, if you really need my help, I’ll do it, but you should try to find someone else.”

  “That makes a lot of sense.” I sighed and pocketed the crystal once more. “I just wanted you to be strong, to help you.”

  “Arthur …” She touched my cheek, drawing my gaze to her. “You already help me by letting me do what I do best. Sculpt.” She smirked. “Though I’m doing a bad job of it now.” She leaned forward and gave me a light peck on the lips. “As much as I appreciate this, and I do, you need to find someone who is a great cook. Someone who loves it as much as I love sculpting or Maribelle loves carpentry.”