The distinct plastic smell of burning hair put a panic into Kim's heart. But all she could do was stare.

  Fiora stood off to the side of the Mega Death Tree and was joyfully blasting the floating wizard face with a spray of fire. Blayre looked so surprised it seemed the flames were going through the sun into wherever the wizard was projecting himself from. Wouldn't that be wonderful? Kim thought, surprised at how much she enjoyed the idea of a burning wizard even though her own hair was on fire and her face might soon melt.

  But then, Blayre's look of shock turned into a sly smile, and he talked while the flames flared around him. His words were lost in all the crackling. Fiora shifted her aim so that she targeted the vines holding the sun to the ceiling.

  "Stop!" the wizard shouted loud enough for Kim to hear. "My darling, darling Fiora, please stop! My dearest Snugglebottom!"

  At this word of endearment, Kim's mouth dropped open, and a vine grabbed her tongue. The other thing that dropped was several of her curls, which had become ash. She tried to bite through the vine, but it was too thick.

  "Why do you continue to avoid me, Sweetums? I promised I'll always be there for you. You are my soul's flame. You are my love machine. You really got me, my princess of love."

  The vines that held the glowing disc snapped, and it dropped to the floor and burst into a bright flash of light that forced Kim to close her eyes. When she opened them again, the room was dark except for where Fiora was angrily burning the broken disc. The dragonspawn stopped breathing fire and began stomping the sun disc to pieces.

  The vines, perhaps realizing their master was gone, undid their knots, including the one around her tongue, and dropped Kim. She cushioned the landing with her hands. Alas, Damon, still slumbering, landed face first with a squashing sound. The carpet of vines scurried away like frightened snakes, revealing a cold stone floor. They left behind her sword and Damon's staff.

  Fiora stepped towards the tree. To Kim's amazement, with a groaning and snapping, the Mega Death Tree grabbed up its roots with branch arms and ran away, looking like a woman fleeing while holding the hem of her dress.

  Letting out a vengeful scream, Fiora jumped several feet, landed right behind the tree and grabbed it by the trunk. It began screeching in a high-pitched, leaf-shaking manner, which stopped when Fiora snapped the thick trunk like a neck. All the vines in the room squirmed as one, then turned black. Fiora dropped the bottom half of the tree and then shook the top half. A small chest, like a wooden fruit, fell to the floor. She threw away the rest.

  A cluster of Notes of Power rose out of the Mega Death Tree. A full one splashed into Fiora, but she kept glaring around for things to destroy. The other three half notes flew across the room. One hit Kim in the chest, and she felt a burst of strength and a feeling she should sing a song. But the thought of singing reminded her of how she had frozen on stage when she was thirteen, shortly after her father had died. Since then, she had only sung in the shower.

  The other note hit Damon, who was still lying on the stone floor. He shuddered as if a defibrillator had shocked him, but didn't open his eyes.

  The last half note went through the ceiling. She watched it hungrily.

  She had done little to fight the tree other than cut a few vines, but the note was clearly a reward. Maybe it had something to do with how she had argued with the wizard. She felt as if she could swing her sword a little harder now. Her hair grew firmer and longer, replacing the burnt bits. This world is very obsessed with hair.

  "Well." Fiora was walking back to them, a large branch in one hand, smoke drifting from her nostrils and trailing behind her. It looked rather like a scene in a movie. "You have survived the Mega Death Tree."

  "I'm as surprised as you," Kim said. She knelt and rolled Damon over. He was still rather pale and continued to be out cold. "Thank you for saving us."

  "No choice," Fiora explained. "The only way out of the j?rk room was through that floor portal."

  "Oh," Kim said. "Nice." She put her hand to her head, and a clump of tight curls drifted to the ground. "It was an impressive display of pyrotechnics."

  Fiora wrinkled her snout non-committally. "It's also very tiring. Breathing fire comes at a cost and—"

  Damon shot up into a sitting position and pointed at Fiora. "He called you Snugglebottom!" It sounded like an accusation made doubly accusatory by the fact he was shaking his finger. "I don't think those two words go together. Snuggle. Bottom. Snugglebottom. Snuggle—"

  "If you say that unspeakable word again," Fiora's voice was dangerously calm. "You will find the finger you are pointing torn from your hand and impaled into your eyeball."

  "Hush, Damon," Kim said.

  "But." Damon blinked two or three times like he was trying to restart his brain. "Sorry. I wasn't completely myself yet. I'm not sure when that will happen."

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  Kim offered him a hand and helped him to his feet. She then picked her sword up. Damon woozily bent down for his staff, then leaned on it.

  Fiora was picking the lock on the small chest with her claw, but when that failed to work, she threw it against the floor. It smashed open, revealing a collection of dead butterflies that looked metallic.

  "I'll take those." Fiora stuffed them into a pocket on her skirt. "They're Iron Butterflies . I'll sell them to a smithy."

  Since Kim had no interest in carrying dead butterflies, she didn't argue.

  "Blayre seem like a psyco," Kim said.

  "I don't know what that word means," Fiora said. "But he enjoys taunting dying creatures, tearing out fingernails, crushing bones, sucking out souls and eating them with oatmeal. He also sometimes forces bound enemies to listen to music of the country. Their lamentations are manna to him."

  "That's exactly what a psycho is," Kim said. "He said there were two others who were supposed to spawn beside us. Where did they go?"

  Fiora shrugged. "Maybe they were stuck in the neither realm."

  "I think you meant nether," Damon said, still rubbing his head. "That's the proper term. The nether realm. I've written several reddits about it."

  "Ah, you kindly correct me." Fiora gently cricked her neck. "For that, you will lose your tongue." Damon took a step back, and she chuckled. "Maybe I'm a little of what was the word, a psycho, too? I meant neither realm. It is neither here nor there. It is elsewhere. And you don't want to go there."

  "Why?" Kim asked.

  "Because nothing happens there."

  "Sounds like my hometown," Damon said. "Snohomish, Washington State."

  Fiora stared at him. "One should always be proud of one's origins. It's who you are."

  "Uh, true," he said. "It's quiet there, is all I meant."

  "But those other spawners, are they trapped in that somewhere else?" Kim asked.

  "Why such concern?" Fiora asked.

  "Because I heard my uncle's voice when I appeared in that — that spawning room. We were all zapped at the same time. At least, I think we were. And there was another concert goer with him."

  "Yeah, that tall dude," Damon said. "I remember him. He had a DeathFace Blitzkrieg shirt on. Why he'd wear that to an Anvil concert, I don't know. Everyone knows those two bands don't get along. Ever since the incident." He made a quotation motion with his fingers.

  Damon had lost a lot of blood, clearly. Kim decided it was best not to engage with him too much. "Any ideas, Fiora?"

  "There is no way of knowing where they spawned. They are not here, so they will not be helping us."

  "I have one more question," Kim asked.

  "I can't wait to hear it," Fiora answered.

  "One Note of Power always floats into the ceiling. Where does it go?"

  Fiora let out a snort. "To Blayre. He siphons off notes from those who fight in his dungeon."

  "He transports people here to die and strengthen him?" Damon asked.

  "He is getting the manna for nothing," Fiora said. "And the power for free."

  The last flaming vines fizzled out, and the room went dark. Brightness appeared for a moment, as some flame came out of Fiora's mouth. Then she coughed. "I've used too much of my fire. We're stuck in the dark. I hope I've killed everything in this room other than you two."

  "You should always bring torches on an adventure," Damon said.

  "Dragonspawn don't need torches," Fiora replied.

  "Well, it would be handy, right —" Damon started, then, even though it was dark, he must have guessed what Fiora's reaction would be. "It would be great if there were a store to visit right after spawning."

  The darkness pressed against them. Something cracked several feet away. Kim hoped it was the last bit of the vine breaking.

  "It will be some time before I build up enough flame," Fiora said. "And I have no desire to wander around blindly."

  "I have an idea," Damon said. "I mean, it's more of a feeling. Like… like I can make light."

  "Are you okay?" Kim asked. She wished she could see his face, but imagined his eyes wild and crazy.

  "It's just that there's now a spell in my head called Light in the Black and some magic words, too, and if I speak them light will come."

  "Then speak them," Fiora huffed. "Before I grow bored and play a game of slashing in the dark."

  "Lumen," Damon said. "Lumen. Lumen. Lumen."

  And for a moment, a few firefly-sized lights appeared in the air. Damon's eyes were wide with amazement.

  "Try harder," Fiora shouted. "Concentrate harder! Concentrate now! Do it!"

  Kim wasn't sure that high-decibel motivation would help him, but Damon responded by shouting out, "Lumen!"

  Light burst into a glowing triangle right in front of them. Kim had to squint, and Fiora lifted a hand to block the light from her eyes.

  "I did it," Damon said. "I'm a mage! A mage!" Then he added, "Oh no."

  Kim had squinted enough to see why the light was in the shape of a triangle. Damon's nose was glowing bright as a 100-watt bulb.

  "You turned your nose into a blob of light," Fiora said. "It would be perfect for archery practice. Maybe next time, make your hands glow. Or conjure a floating bauble."

  "I'll try that," he said. Wherever Damon turned, the room was revealed.

  "You will become our guiding light." Fiora grabbed his shoulder and used him like a human-sized flashlight.

  Kim still wasn't certain why the glowing had happened, but she decided it was best to roll with it. "I don't know if it's helpful," Kim shouted. "But Blayre mentioned that the next room was dangerous."

  "Of course it is," Fiora replied. "He has spent countless giggling hours designing these rooms. Now, both of you look for a door."

  They walked around the perimeter of the room again, Fiora guiding him. There wasn't an obvious exit.

  "This next door will be a lot harder to find," Damon said.

  "Why do you say that?" Kim asked.

  "I know his type."

  "His type?" Kim asked.

  "Jerk dungeon masters. They get sadistic joy out of making the adventure a little too hard for the adventurers—just to show off."

  Kim ran her hand along the wall. "I think we're finding out exactly how frustrating and unfun it can be."

  "I found it!" Fiora turned Damon towards a blank part of the wall, lighting it up. Fiora blasted the wall with a small flame. Kim stepped back, protecting her hair. A collection of lines appeared along the wall and became a series of criss-crossing patterns that formed an oval door. It was about six feet high.

  "It's a Celtic pattern," Damon said.

  "Those are Celtic Frost Runes," Fiora said. "So he found this spell in the northlands. Likely peeled it from the tattoos on a dead Celtic Ice Druid."

  "I really don't like this world," Kim said.

  "It is what it is." Fiora jabbed a talon at a poky thing sticking out from the very top of the pattern. "But I bring your attention to this. It's a Mega Death Tree thorn. Blood must run down the pattern, which will then open the door." She turned and looked directly at Kim, flashing a wicked reptilian smile. "And it's your turn to risk your life."