Vel looked over Sigurd’s form. He was still breathing, but had lost more color from when she’d last seen him. She looked from his figure to her broken arm. There was no way she could drag him out, much less carry him. Pulling the blanket back over him, she bit her lip, looking down to the dungeon’s exit.

  “I’m going to get help,” she said. “Please, be safe until then.”

  It was risky, knowing the dangers that lurked here, but what else was she to do? Maybe I can do something to protect him here better? she thought, considering the new magic she’d gained. While she wasn’t keen about the possible repercussions, she’d do what she could anyways.

  With her one good arm, she shifted Sigurd so that he was pressed against the base of the wall. Then, she considered how to go about making a web here. First, she tried flicking her hand, hoping to shoot a web out. Nothing. That was probably for the best anyways, given that her aim could still use some work.

  Next, she placed a finger on the wall. Okay, thread. Silk. Um, sticky silk? she thought. Still nothing. Magic, up until this point, had been fairly easy to use, at least for the most part. Just a thought, and it’d come.

  Maybe I’m thinking too much, she thought, and pulled her finger from the wall. With it, a thin thread stretched across the distance between her finger and the wall. Well then, that worked. The thread was indeed sticky, and far thinner than she wanted it to be, but at least it was thicker than a house spider’s thread.

  She pulled it down to the ground, attaching it, where it obeyed her when she wished to cut the thread there. At this rate, this was going to take way too long, and she wasn’t sure how long Sigurd would last.

  I have to go get help, she told herself, yet another voice reasoned that it wouldn’t matter if something ate him while she was gone. Fine, if this works . . . she tried flicking her hand again, but this time considered what she must have been lacking before━the production of the silk. Before, she just expected the thread to automatically fly from her hand, but this time, she really considered the skills. She couldn’t shoot a thread without first using [create silk], then using [sticky thread] to make it stick.

  This time, it worked, the white silk thread attaching to the wall.

  [Create Silk level 2]

  [Sticky Thread level 2]

  She stretched it down to the floor. What if I didn’t use my hands at all, she thought. Simply envisioning what she wanted to happen didn’t work, but when she hovered her hand over an area, she could form a thread one at a time.

  [Create Silk level 3]

  [Sticky Thread level 3]

  It wasn’t as fast as the shooting thread was, but Vel wondered if she could apply the two concepts. Pressing a finger from where she wanted to shoot a thread, she envisioned its direction. From wall to floor, crossing the other threads. It flew, following the path she’d outlined in her mind’s eye━a path that became visible to her like the links were. A transparent purple line, like the Purple Fairy was helping her.

  A smile came to Vel’s face as she worked, shooting thread after thread, criss crossing with the others. With each gained level, the spell became easier, and the threads sturdier. Not so much thicker, but she could tell that some did look less flimsy than others━taut; strong.

  Once she had sufficiently filled the space over and around Sigurd with sticky threads, she turned towards the mine’s end, a stiffness in her muscles that wasn’t there before protesting. With a step forward, she winced. It wasn’t so much pain as it was as if her joints had lost their fluidity. For a moment, she felt almost like a walking statue, but as she moved further, her joints and muscles relaxed. Stiffness, she decided, must have been the cost for that particular magic. Not nearly as bad as [fireball], at least not for the twenty levels she’d received in [create silk], [sticky thread], and [webshot]. They were relatively safe skills, she decided.

  Coming to the edge of the mine, she looked at the drop. It wasn’t high in the sense that it curved down into a basin, so at some point, she’d land and roll. Painfully. That was, if she didn’t use feather fall. Taking the jump, she moved her feet through the air slightly, feeling that familiar cushion.

  [Feather Fall level 28]

  As her fall grew faster, she used [rock throw] to propel her up just a bit, then sideways. After which, she reactivated feather fall, partially milking the skills for their levels, repeating this pattern three times until she seamlessly landed in the center of the basin.

  [Feather Fall level 29]

  [Rock Throw level 37]

  [Feather Fall level 30]

  [Rock Throw level 38]

  [Feather Fall level 31]

  The shade spiders, fortunately, still kept their distance from her, allowing Vel to start up the sharp incline to the cave’s exit. At some point, she needed to use her good hand to help climb, and even pushed on the ground with [rock throw] a few times behind her, just to propel her out of the cave, and blessedly, into the light of day.

  [Rock Throw level 39]

  Vel sucked in the fresh air, sun shining down on her. She basked in its light, closing her eyes for just a second. This is no time to celebrate, she reminded herself, and looked at the street before her. It appeared she was at the edge of town, the mine coming right out onto the street.

  Strange to have something dangerous so close, but when she turned to look around the mine’s entrance, she found a dozen warning signs, and two baffled towns guards.

  “Are . . .?” one started, looking closer to Vel’s age then the other. His face was beet red, and he was staring at her legs.

  Vel looked at her bloomers, nearly completely shredded below the knees, and what remained of them had far too many holes for comfort. Her cheeks grew a bit warm, but she maintained the rest of her. Well, as well as a madwoman in love coming out of a monster infested dungeon could.

  “I need a healer,” she said.

  “And clothes,” the freckled faced boy said. His older companion shoved him aside, spear in hand.

  “Quickly, please, sirs. My friend is dying,” Vel’s voice wavered. She wasn’t sure if it was from the emotions, or from exhaustion.

  “Boy,” the older soldier said. “Fetch Healer Pennant.”

  “Yes sir!” The boy saluted.

  “Quick!” the other barked, and Freckles ran off. The older soldier looked back at Vel, wearing a stern expression. “What foolishness sent you into the mines, girl?”

  “A bear,” Vel lied.

  “Just a normal bear?”

  “No,” Vel continued the lie. Oh, this had to be good, and she knew nothing about any kind of bear. “There was . . . fire.”

  “You’re terrible at lying.”

  Vel frowned. “All I want is help,” she said.

  “You could be part of some bandits, or something.”

  “Bandits!” Vel threw her hands up, wincing when pain shot through her burned and broken right arm. But she was not having this knight right now. He was so . . . so . . . Ugh! “I have been poisoned, bitten, suffocated, and burned! And you know I’m a terrible liar━I would make for a lousy bandit. Do I even look like one?”

  The soldier shifted uncomfortably. “No . . .” he said, inching away from her. “You look robbed.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  He’s more frustrating than Sigurd, she thought. Maybe they’re related. This knight was far too pale to be related to Sigurd. In fact, now that she thought about it, most everyone around here was far too pale compared to the hunter.

  Not-Sigurd sighed. “Let’s get you a dress, or something,” he said.

  “I’m not leaving until my friend has help.” Vel frowned, crossing her arms.

  “I’m just trying to help.”

  “And I appreciate it, but I need to be here to guide the healer to my friend.”

  “Very well,” the knight sighed, and took up his post.

  What if they’re with the church? A small voice said, and Vel looked out over the street. It wasn’t a very busy one, this part of town looking much smaller than the rest of it. A ways out, the dirt street turned into cobblestone. There wasn’t another knight in the vicinity, nor could she even see a temple steeple from here. That gave her hope that it was at least too far from this location.

  However, Vel soon realized why the knight wanted to get her clothes sooner rather than later. Of the few people there were walking the street━a woman with a basket and small child, a man with an axe and wagon, and a few children at play━most stared at her. This was bad. Even if there was no church in the immediate area, the news of her would spread.

  “How long would getting a dress take?” Vel asked, pulling Sigurd’s tarnished jerkin tighter around herself.

  “Probably longer than it’ll take for Fynn to retrieve the healer,” the knight said dryly.

  Vel rocked on her sore feet, and looked down. One of her slippers’ sole was barely hanging on at this point. “I should go back to protect my friend. This is already taking too long,” she said, and looked up at the knight. “Could you find us with instructions?”

  “Don’t need to,” Not-Sigurd pointed, and Vel looked down the street. Freckle Face was running back their way, an elderly man gasping behind him.

  Vel took a step forward, eager, and for more than one reason. “Does this town have more than one healer?” she asked.

  “Two,” Not-Sigurd said.

  Then there’s a high chance this is the man that took care of Edard, Vel thought, a new hope springing within her.

  “Dear heavens!” the elderly man━Pennant━said. “What happened to you, child?” he asked, lifting a pair of spectacles to his face and squinting his eyes. “Suppose I should get started right away then,” he stepped toward Vel, who raised a hand to stop him.

  “No, please, I have a friend in the mine still, he needs help more than I,” Vel said.

  “My! Why haven’t we retrieved him already!” Pennant said, huffing a few breaths as he hobbled past Vel and into the mine. He yelped. “Spiders!”

  “Spiders?” Fynn said, shivering.

  “Wait here, Fynn,” Not-Sigurd said, and turned towards the mine, drawing his sword.

  “Wait,” Vel ran past him, as well as the healer, and as she entered the dark mine, the spiders who had begun to occupy the basin again skittered away.

  “Strange, what did you . . .?” the knight asked, furrowing his brow and sheathing his sword as he looked around the place. Notably, the giant scorch marks on the ground where fire had eaten up the blood spider, and then some.

  “I do believe I mentioned fire already,” Vel said, stepping over the scorched earth. She looked ahead towards the mine tunnel, finding a fault in her plan. None of them had a way to climb up.

  “He’s not up there, is he?” the healer pointed, and Vel nodded, sighing.

  “We’re going to need a ladder. A tall one,” Fynn said.

  “Or a grapple,” Not-Sigurd added, his eyes trailing towards the elderly man. He narrowed his eyes, and Vel guessed that the knight was as worried as she was about someone his age making this climb.

  As the bunch of them brainstormed what to do, Fynn even ran off to fetch a grapple and rope, Vel looked over her skill sheet. Already, she considered using [webshot] as a way to get up, but she’d need a lot of them━there was no way one thread was going to support her weight, let alone Not-Sigurd’s.

  [Skills]

  [Bow Proficiency Rank 1 Level 1]

  [Climb Rank 1 Level 1]

  [Constrict Rank 1 Level 2]

  [Create Silk Rank 1 Level 23]

  [Dagger Slash Rank 1 Level 39]

  [Dagger Stab Rank 1 Level 23]

  [Dagger Throw Rank 1 Level 31]

  [Feather Fall Rank 1 Level 30]

  [Fireball Rank 1 Level 40]

  [Headbutt Rank 1 Level 1]

  [Metal Claw Rank 1 Level 17]

  [Poison Bite Rank 1 Level 1]

  [Poison Resistance Rank 1 Level 35]

  [Rapid Dodge Rank 1 Level 1]

  [Rock Throw Rank 1 Level 39]

  [Scent Memory Rank 1 Level 1]

  [Sever Link Rank 1 Level 13]

  [Shadow Sneak Rank 1 Level 1]

  [Sticky Thread Rank 1 Level 23]

  [Tough Hide Rank 1 Level 36]

  [Unarmed Punch Rank 1 Level 2]

  [Webshot Rank 1 Level 23]

  Unless she could figure out how to use someone else’s weight to throw them, [rock throw] was crossed from the list. Vel had no idea what [shadow sneak] was, and she suspected that it wouldn’t be any use at level 1. [Climb] would work for her, but looking down at her broken arm, she cringed, more because she remembered the pain. Its swollen, bruised appearance just made her feel nauseous. There was no way she was going to attempt a manual climb.

  [Webshot] it is then, Vel huffed. Narrowing her eyes, she stepped forward, looking towards the ceiling of the mine’s tunnel above. It was a long way to go. Flicking her good hand, a singular thread released from her index finger.

  [Create Silk level 24]

  [Sticky Thread level 24]

  [Webshot level 24]

  The thread looked as if it would go all the way, then arched downward, attaching itself to the base of the mine tunnel. Better than nothing, Vel thought. Wincing, she passed the end of the web to her swollen right hand, barely managing to grip it.

  “What are you doing?” Not-Sigurd asked.

  “Making a rope to climb,” Vel said.

  “I mean, how are you doing that?”

  “Magic.”

  Not-Sigurd rolled his eyes.

  “Let me see that arm of yours,” Pennant said, stepping towards her. “If nothing else, I can at least heal that.”

  Tentatively, the old man took Vel’s arm, his touch like needles against her skin. She let out the slightest whimper as he lifted it closer to get a look. As he hovered his other hand from it, a warm golden glow shone around her arm. While she’d seen this power a thousand times in the temple, Vel had never felt it. The warmth it gave off immediately eased her pain, the needles vanishing, as did any aches.

  Her stomach lurched when her broken bone snapped into place. She hadn’t realized the slight arc in her arm before, which was probably for the best anyways. The power soothed over the burns, blisters fading and leaving behind smooth skin, albeit red. Pennant withdrew his hands. He hadn’t finished healing the burns, but what was left was no worse than a sunburn.

  “Thank you,” Vel said, voice soft.

  Pennant nodded. “Now then, this skill of yours?” he asked, poking the thread. It stuck to his hand. “Unless you can make them thicker and not sticky, this won’t do. Won’t do at all.” He turned to Not-Sigurd. “Cormac, start climbing. I’ll get on your back.”

  “What?” Not-Sigurd ask.

  “Get to it, son!” Pennant snapped.

  “Yes sir!” Cormac crouched, hefting Pennant up onto his back. The healer was, in contrast, a much smaller man, shorter than Vel even. He clung to the knight, who moved forward, climbing the dark stony wall.

  Suppose I’ll get those climbing levels after all, Vel thought, stepping forward. She found herself a foothold first, then a handhold next. Her grip felt stronger than she expected, allowing her to easily climb up to the next spot.

  [Climb level 2]

  Then her hand slipped. Vel yelped, shooting not one, not two, but five sticky threads from her fingers. One might not have held, and five was also a stretch, yet it was enough that she managed to catch herself and rest. She watched as [create silk], [sticky thread], and [webshot] all rose three levels, coloring the edge of her vision. Furrowing her brow, she looked up towards the mine’s entrance.

  The knight and healer were ahead of her, and as she looked past them, she reconsidered the rope idea. It could work, now that she knew she could shoot more than one thread at once. The hard part was deciding which threads would be sticky, and which wouldn’t. Or maybe I can just make the end of it sticky?

  Shooting a thread to test this, she envisioned only its end, the one attached to the wall, to stick. Running another finger along it, she found it to do so smoothly. When she plucked it from the stony wall, it was indeed sticky, if a bit easy to pull free. However, she imagined that if it was reinforced with other threads, that wouldn’t be the case.

  I’m being stupid, she thought, and dropped back down with feather fall, despite the short distance. Stepping back, she raised both hands. Really stupid, she repeated, the cost of this much power weighing on her mind. It made her stiff before━would she grow statuesque from this? For how long?

  “There’s not time,” she muttered to herself, and loosed the threads. Ten, one from each finger. They flew high, connecting at their sticky end, then twisting. There was a semblance of control to [webshot], enough for this much, it seemed.

  They reached the floor of the mine, and Vel pulled them taut, making it sticky on her end as well, just to maintain the loose rope-like shape the threads had. The rope, she wagered, still wasn’t strong enough, at least not from a man of Cormac’s size. Reinforcing it with ten more threads, notifications filling her vision, she united the two ropes, then felt a sharp ache in her neck and shoulders.

  Not enough, she thought. Prepping again, she raised her hands, elbows and wrists stiff.

  “Lass!” Pennant barked. “You’re━”

  The ten threads flew past Cormac and Pennant. As the ache slipped up into her mind, ears, and eyes, the old man’s voice dulled.

  I pushed it, she thought, stomach dropping as her stiff form toppled backwards.

  [Create Silk level 42]

  [Sticky Thread level 42]

  [Webshot level 42]

  [Tough Hide level 37]