“You’re still upset?” Ekon asked.

  “No, I’m not.”

  He smiled dryly. Of course, when a woman said “No, I’m not upset,” you could take that at face value. It was obviously the truth. There were absolutely no hidden meanings there.

  Honestly, he couldn’t blame her.

  Dagnar had been a walking liability since the moment they stepped into the dungeon. But he had given him the benefit of the doubt, despite her silent disapproval. And in the end, the young man turned out to be exactly the disappointment she had feared.

  Still, he hadn’t completely given up on Dagnar. Part of him held on to the idea that there was more to the young man than met the eye, something buried deep beneath the whining and the panic. Or maybe he was just being stubborn, refusing to admit he had been wrong. Either way, it was not something he could explain to her. So he kept his mouth shut.

  On the other hand, he believed he had made the right call when he left a few potions behind for those two. It might have seemed unnecessary. The odds of them getting attacked while waiting outside were incredibly small, after all. But if there was one thing he had learned, it was never to take anything for granted. Too many people had paid with their lives for assuming the worst could not possibly happen.

  He leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “I’ll make it up to you once we’re back.”

  “Oh, shut up!” She jabbed him in the ribs, but he could make out the barest hint of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth beneath the flickering torchlight. Then, as quickly as it came, her expression hardened again. “Stay focused.”

  Right. She was a professional, through and through. She was not going to let emotions interfere with the task at hand. He ought to do the same. They couldn’t afford any distractions now.

  The corridor pressed in around them, narrow and sloped, with a ceiling that loomed oppressively low, the air heavy with the weight of centuries-old dust. Yes, he knew this was a young dungeon, yet the atmosphere within this building felt ancient. There was a strange, almost eerie echo of time that clung to the walls around him.

  They moved in a column, the flicker of Renee’s torch the only sign she was still leading the way. Not that he could see much of her, as Ba’atar’s hulking silhouette had swallowed the corridor ahead. The big man had to hunch to fit, his broad shoulders scraping the stones with every stride. Next came Mandra, her dark hair a waterfall of lustrous waves, its glossy sheen catching his torchlight like moonlit ripples on a lake. And finally, he brought up the rear, the last pair of eyes in the dark, watching the backs of his companions.

  They walked for what felt like hours, or perhaps it had been mere minutes. Hard to tell, with the passage so mind-numbingly repetitive. A long, cramped corridor sloping downward. Then an intersection. A long, cramped corridor sloping upward. Then another intersection. Stone, then more stone. Dust, then more dust. A madman must have built this place, and he would go mad himself if he had to stay here alone.

  What truly set his nerves on edge, though, was the silence. No scratching of claws, no gnashing of teeth, no menacing growls. There were no sounds but their own footsteps and the faint whisper of the wind Renee had sent ahead to scout. And according to her, there were no monsters lurking in the shadows. Not in the front, not in the back, not even in the nearby corridors.

  “Where are we going again, Renee?” Mandra asked.

  There was an unmistakable tension in her tone. Clearly, he was not the only one here unsettled by the place. This suspiciously uneventful stroll wasn’t exactly helping either of them feel at ease. The longer they went without something trying to kill them, the more convinced they were that something very big was coming very soon.

  “There’s a gigantic hallway ahead,” the young aeromancer replied. “It’s very different from the other corridors. So I think it’s worth checking out.”

  A gigantic hallway, huh? Could it lead to the boss room? Ekon vaguely remembered hearing something about an arena of sand on the third floor, supposedly home to a Crocodilian boss. So maybe Renee was about to take them to the boss of the second.

  He wasn’t entirely sure the party was ready for a boss fight just yet. But between facing a clearly marked danger and continuing to wander aimlessly through identical corridor after identical corridor, he would take the former every time. At least he knew what was trying to kill him. And if things went south, he was still reasonably confident he and Mandra could get everyone out in one piece. So—

  “Ekon!”

  A voice echoed in his head. A familiar voice. An unwelcome voice.

  He froze.

  He hadn’t heard that voice in a long time, long enough to start hoping he never would again.

  What do you want? he asked. Why now?

  “Get out of here,” the woman said, smooth as silk wrapped around a blade, sweet as honey laced with poison. “This place is dangerous. Turn around and flee. Immediately.”

  Why should I do what you say? Why should I trust you?

  She giggled. “Oh, my dear Ekon, you know that the thing I hate the most is wasting my resources. I’ll not get sentimental over my pawns, but I’m not going to toss you away carelessly either. You’re too valuable to me to die here. So go. Now. Before it’s too late.”

  Then she stopped talking.

  Ekon hesitated. Of course, he didn’t trust that woman, not after so many times she had spun webs of lies and half-truths to manipulate him. But these corridors did feel wrong. And he did want to leave.

  “What’s the matter?” Mandra asked, glancing back over her shoulder.

  He let out a slow, heavy sigh. “Let’s go back.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  Because a voice in my head told me so. He wished he could have told her just that. “I... have a bad feeling about this.”

  Mandra narrowed her eyes. Then she turned to the others. “What do you think?”

  Ba’atar gave a half-nod. “If Ekon says so...” That was probably the longest sentence he had spoken today.

  “Well,” Renee said, her tone carrying a tinge of disappointment, “Ekon’s the leader, so I guess we’ll head back.”

  “Fine. Back we go.”

  They trusted him. But he knew better than to take it for granted. One too many questionable decisions, and he would watch how fast that trust turned to dust.

  They turned back the way they had come. He took the lead now, while Renee became the rearguard. Out they went, back into the furnace, back into the wasteland scorched by the merciless sun. He had loathed the place very much, but once he had gotten inside, surrounded by nothing but cold, dark silence, the desert felt almost like a friend. A murderous bastard of a friend, but a friend nonetheless.

  However, they hadn’t taken more than five steps before—

  “Wait!” Renee shouted.

  “What’s wrong?” Mandra asked.

  “There’s... movement. The monsters, probably. Lots of them. And they’re heading this way. Fast.”

  “From which corridors?”

  A breath, then a nervous laugh. “Every corridor.”

  So that woman was right. This was indeed a trap.

  “Run!” he roared.

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  No one argued. They bolted, their boots pounding against the sloping corridor as they fled downward. Torchlight danced erratically on the walls, casting their shadows into monstrous silhouettes that ran alongside them. They burst into a small chamber, a junction with two low arches that opened into two different paths.

  Ekon’s eyes darted between the two routes. Left or right? Which way had they come from? But he barely had time to think before a piercing scream tore through the air and shattered his contemplation.

  Renee’s.

  He spun just in time to see a strange creature draped over her shoulders, one sinewy hand clamping her face, the other flashing a dagger, plunging straight into the white of her neck.

  Ba’atar’s massive hand shot out in an instant. He seized the top of the creature’s head, his thick fingers sinking into the leathery skin around its temples. He wrenched it off Renee like plucking a bug from a leaf, its claws scratching away from her face with a wet sound.

  The creature kicked and hissed, but Ba’atar gave it no time. He squeezed. A sickening crunch echoed in the confined space as the skull deformed under his grip. Then, it popped. A splatter of brains sprayed across the big man’s face as the creature went limp, dagger clattering to the floor. He flung the corpse against the wall, where it slid down, leaving a dark smear on the stone.

  Ekon stared at the dead body. Where the hell did it come from?

  The answer arrived almost instantly.

  A chorus of snarls erupted from above. More of them. Four, no five, dropped from the ceiling, blocking the way forward and back. Ugly creatures, with ugly weapons in their ugly hands. A little taller than goblins, they slouched forward, their heads disproportionately large for their bodies. But the worst part was their faces. Where their eyes should have been, there were only sunken hollows, sealed over by a thin membrane of flesh.

  Damn it.

  Aside from Ba’atar, nobody in the group was particularly effective against opponents who could get this close, especially in a cramped space like this. And as for the big man, well, there was no way he could swing that greatsword of his here without cutting down everyone else along with the enemies.

  So Ba’atar drew his dagger instead. Though, truth be told, his “dagger” was more like a cleaver to anyone else.

  The large knife flashed through the air. It pierced a torso, opening up entirely the ribcage. It carved a head asunder, down to the bridge of the nose. It sank into a throat, spraying torrents of red across the walls.

  The fourth assailant came slithering in from Ekon’s left. It was about to lunge, mouth yawning open to bare rows of needle-sharp teeth, each one slick with saliva, its breath a hot reek of rot. He muttered the incantation under his breath, fingers sketching a familiar pattern in the air, and an orb of shimmering, orange-hot flame, no larger than an apple, coalesced below his palm. Careful now, he told himself. One wrong move, and he would incinerate everyone in the room. The creature drew closer, its jaws widening as if it wanted to swallow his head whole. Now. He flicked his wrist, hurling the tiny fireball directly into the dark, fetid cavity of the beast’s gaping maw.

  For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, the creature’s entire body stiffened, a violent spasm locking its every muscle. It gave a piercing scream and dropped to its knees, clawing at the neck that was now glowing orange. Fire licked out as it ripped open its own throat—fire and smoke and charred tissue and cooked meat. The creature collapsed. It was already dead, but the flames persisted, continuing to consume its insides, crackling within the hollow shell of its lifeless body.

  Ekon took a steadying breath, then turned back to his companions. He saw Ba’atar smash the last enemy headfirst into the wall, and the thing went bonelessly limp in an instant. The big man dropped the corpse, then shot Renee a glance.

  “You good?”

  “Well... yes, I’m alright,” she replied. Blood trickled down her cheek from the claw marks, but aside from those superficial wounds, she seemed mostly unharmed. Physically, at least.

  The real damage was elsewhere.

  Her hands trembled. Her face had drained of color, her eyes wide with lingering fear. The shock of being so close to getting killed must have shaken her to her core.

  “Where... where are they coming from?” Her voice cracked. “How... how did they get here without me noticing anything?”

  “They didn’t get here. They had always been here.” Ekon looked up at the ceiling. “If they stayed perfectly still, you wouldn’t be able to detect them with your wind, right?”

  The young aeromancer blinked, then she slowly nodded.

  Once again, he learned the hard way what would happen when he took things for granted. He had assumed Renee’s abilities were infallible, and that blind faith had nearly cost him a member of his party.

  He wished he could let the girl rest, even if only for a moment. But he couldn’t. They were not out of danger yet. So they had to move. Every second counted.

  “Which way, Renee?”

  “That one,” she replied, pointing at one archway. “But...”

  “But what?”

  “There are... monsters blocking the corridor.”

  “These bastards again?” Ekon asked, glancing at the eyeless corpses still twitching on the floor.

  “No.” Renee shook her head. “I think they’re... insects. Spiders. And other... things. There are a lot of them. A whole swarm. They’re crawling all over the place.” Her voice tightened with every word, and her face twisted like she was already imagining them climbing up her body.

  “Wonderful,” Ekon muttered.

  He walked to the arch, peering into the darkness beyond it. Bugs, huh? Well, there was only one way to deal with that many bugs.

  He sucked in a long breath, chest swelling like he was about to dive deep. He thrust his torch forward, holding it before his face, fingers clenched tight around the handle. He held his breath for a moment, then he leaned forward.

  And he blew.

  A river of fire came to life, a thundering cascade of orange and white screaming forward, filling the corridor from floor to ceiling. The sound was a deafening, hungry roar that swallowed all other noise. Within it was the piercing, frenzied symphony of countless pops and crackles as hard carapaces burst and shattered. And—did his mind play tricks on him?—he could swear he had heard the distant wailing of women.

  Then the smell came, and it hit him like a punch to the gut. A wave of nausea surged up his throat, a cloying foulness undercut by the acrid tang of burning hair, scorched chitin, cooked innards, and something vaguely sweet and utterly revolting. His stomach lurched. He staggered back a step, and nearly lost it right there. But Renee stepped forward. She raised one trembling hand and summoned a gust of wind that howled through the dark corridor. He was going to ask her to do so anyway, to blast away the lingering heat and smoke, but he was certain that was not what she was thinking about when she cast the spell.

  “Let’s go,” Ekon said.

  Renee looked sickened, but she nodded all the same. So they plunged into the blackened tunnel. Their boots crunched, and crunched, and crunched. With each of their steps, brittle husks collapsed into ash and fragments, releasing another puff of that vile stench. Ekon didn’t look down, and he was sure no one else did either. He had no idea what was on the floor, but whatever it was, he had no desire to find out.

  They ran through the maze, following Renee’s lead. Corridor after corridor, junction after junction, they carved a path forward, blades flashing, spells flaring. And after a few more skirmishes, things started to quiet down.

  “They’re still around us,” the young aeromancer said. “But they’re keeping their distance now. I don’t sense anything blocking our path anymore.”

  Sounded promising enough, but Ekon wasn’t going to take things for granted anymore. “Keep moving,” he said. “But do not let your guard down. Keep your eyes on every shadow. Expect ambush in every corner.”

  So they kept running.

  Renee was right. The monsters were still there, just out of sight. They scraped their claws, they gnashed their teeth, and they growled low in the dark. Funny, wasn’t it? Earlier, when it had all been too quiet, the silence had nearly driven him mad. Now, when he got to hear sounds, he wasn’t sure if it was better or worse.

  “Are we still far from the entrance?” Mandra asked.

  “Very close,” Renee replied. “Just two more junctions, then—”

  She stopped dead in her tracks, and Ekon nearly crashed into her back.

  “What’s the matter?”

  The young woman turned slowly. Her face had gone pale again, even paler than before. “I think... I think we’ve gone the wrong way.”

  Seriously? Ekon had more than enough unpleasant surprises for one day. But getting frustrated wasn’t going to help, and the poor girl already looked like she was on the verge of crumbling.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, keeping his voice as calm as possible.

  “I thought this corridor would lead back to the entrance. But it’s a dead end. I was... wrong.”

  “You think you took a wrong turn?” Mandra asked.

  “Yes. I think so. But... I don’t know where. I’m... I’m so sorry.”

  It couldn’t be helped. Mistakes happened, especially when you were running through a maze full of monsters trying to kill you. So he wasn’t going to blame her. If anything, maybe it was his fault. Maybe he had pushed her too hard. Fine. Let the girl catch her breath. Then they would figure it out.

  Wait.

  “What if the entrance has been sealed?” he asked.

  Mandra’s brow furrowed, clearly not very fond of the idea. “You think so?”

  “But... but...” Renee stammered, “I didn’t see anything that could shut it. There was no door.”

  Ekon shrugged. “After everything else we’ve seen in here, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a hidden door.”

  “Then what should we do?” Mandra asked.

  “What else? Let’s go there and try to knock the damn thing down.”

  So they did.

  Two more junctions, just like Renee had said, and there it was. A wall of stone waiting at the end of the corridor. A very solid, very final-looking dead end.

  Ekon ran his fingers along the edge where the stone met the corridor wall. “Doesn’t look like a natural formation. Yes, this must be the entrance.”

  Mandra frowned. “This is no door. More like someone has dropped a damn mountain in front of the exit. How the hell are we supposed to get out?”

  “I can break it...” Ba’atar said, then glanced at Mandra. “We can.”

  “You do know that my potion is dangerous, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine.” She sighed, then tossed him a vial. “One—no, three drops,” she said sternly. “But no more.”

  The big man nodded, uncorked the potion, and tilted it to his lips. Three careful drops fell onto his tongue. Then he handed it back without a word.

  They all moved back as Ba’atar stepped forward. He drew in a deep, rumbling breath, his muscles quaking beneath his skin as though awakening from a long slumber.

  Then he drove his fist into the stone.

  His knuckles connected with the slab with a deafening boom, like a battering ram smashing into a castle gate. Dust exploded from the point of impact. The entire corridor trembled.

  He hit it again, harder.

  The ground beneath their feet shook violently, and Ekon could feel the tremor travel right up into his chest.

  Ba’atar punched it the third time.

  A chunk of stone the size of a fist broke away, hitting the floor with a sharp, ringing sound.

  Fourth.

  Cracks spread across the wall’s once-smooth surface.

  Fifth.

  With a final, thunderous roar, Ba’atar slammed his fist into the widening fracture. The great barrier split with a sound like the sky itself was tearing open, collapsing outward in an avalanche of fractured rock and dust.

  Then, as the dust started to settle, light began to spill into the dark corridor through the breach.