When Jeremy was eight, his late grandfather had explained chemotherapy.

  “Your grandpa has got bad cells in him,” said his grandfather, who had cancer and had turned into a shaky bald man. “Chemotherapy is when doctors inject the patient with poison to kill the bad cells.” He cackled. “The problem is some of those bad cells are pretty tough.”

  Grandpa hadn't been kidding. He died of cancer two months later. With all the craziness with his parents' divorce, and of course, his older brother, his grandpa had been a safe haven, and he missed the man terribly.

  ***

  “If I were to cast Divine Fury, where would the mana come from?” Jeremy asked.

  Flint paced up and down the cave, tapping the ground with his sword cane. “The initial mana output to cast the spell would come from you, Jeremy, but the spell itself would be powered by Arkys.”

  “Makes sense.” Jeremy lined up several flasks in front of him with shaking hands, doing his best to ignore the things that were eating him from the inside. The first were his three mana potions, all he had left. Next, a used healing flask filled with water and a drop of spider poison, a fatal dose if untreated, even for Jeremy. Next to that were three poison antidote flasks, all he had left, and finally, his cure disease potion and his platinum high-grade healing potion.

  “I do not like your plan, but since I don't have a better one, you might as well try it. An infinitesimal chance of survival is better than none,” Flint said from the corner of the cave where he appeared to be sulking.

  Jeremy put his two spare stat points into Will Power. He needed all the Mental Fortitude he could get.

  First, Jeremy would have to cast Divine Fury. This would give his mana-eating parasites more mana to absorb and might shorten his life, but it was a chance he had to take.

  The spell seemed easy to cast, at least.

  Jeremy turned to his familiar. “I'm going to need your help, Squeak.”

  “Squeak!” It was ready to serve.

  “This is what I need you to do.”

  He drank his mana potions; he could feel parasites thrashing inside him, growing bigger as he cast his spell.

  He'd decided the spell hadn't worked when a deep rage filled him, and all he could think about was how much he hated this dungeon, hated monsters, and especially being eaten alive by them.

  With the first part of his plan complete, he drank the poison and struggled not to vomit.

  You Have Been Poisoned!

  You Have Been Poisoned!

  You Have Been Poisoned!

  His health dropped like a stone.

  He'd used the highest dose of poison that he might survive long enough to kill the things inside him.

  Now, there was little he could do but wait. When Divine Fury ended, it would mean the poison had killed the things inside him, and he'd won his battle with the dungeon creatures.

  He felt things thrash angrily inside him. He hoped this was a good sign.

  His health dropped to three, two, one, hovering at one for what felt like an eternity, then dropped to one half, one quarter...

  His Divine Fury kept him alive. He was so angry that he kept his health above zero by force of will. He went in and out of consciousness, unaware of how much time had passed. Then, with no warning, his anger left him, meaning the dungeon beings inside him were dead.

  “Now,” he whispered a second before his health dropped to zero.

  His heart stopped beating.

  He died...

  An eternity later, a warm fire burst inside him. His heart beat... once... then again.

  Jeremy coughed as Squeak frantically tipped the flasks of poison antidote potions into his mouth. Health still at zero, his heart somehow kept beating as Squeak tipped flask after flask into his mouth.

  He swallowed. Then swallowed again. The last flask was his platinum healing potion. He hoped it would be enough. For a time, it didn't look that way.

  “Squeak!”

  Jeremy felt energy enter him, and his health shot up to 2 before dropping back to 0. Could Squeak provide life force as well as drain it? Worth looking into.

  His health slowly went up to one-quarter point, half a point, then one point. It stayed at one for another eternity before climbing.

  He gained the strength to turn his head to the side. He vomited.

  ***

  For the next few days, dead insects, worms, and larvae came out of every orifice in his body. And that meant every orifice—his eyes, ears, nose, and, of course, his mouth and rear end. If it weren't for the dungeons absorbing everything coming out of him, he'd have been lying in a large puddle of dead dungeon creatures and his bodily waste.

  He'd fall into a restless sleep to be awoken in the darkness by horrible nightmares of insects crawling over and inside his body. He woke up screaming, trying to fight off nonexistent insects.

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  On the second night, Squeak left the room and retrieved one of the dungeon torches. Though the torch continually tried to leave the room, it provided much-needed light, making his nightmares easier to manage.

  Then, mana sickness hit. It was several more days before he could move.

  His Mental Fortitude skill increased to 6 (max). His Pain Resistance had gone up two points as well.

  Through trial and error, he found that Squeak could absorb life from dungeon monsters and convert that life into two points of health for Jeremy. But doing so more than once a day would exhaust his familiar. In addition, it was dangerous, as the other insects would attack his familiar as soon as it started draining their life. Squeak shrank to the size of a Doberman.

  The chain holding his pendant had come off his neck and slid out from underneath his shirt. His mana-gathering pendant had somehow sunk into his chest, where it sat next to his heart, pulsing inside him.

  “What happened?” Jeremy asked when he could move again. “Why is my pendant inside me now?”

  Flint looked up from his sulk. “Your charm was made from the heart of a phoenix. I suspect that it entered your chest when you died and brought you back to life.”

  “Why?”

  “That I don't know,” Flint responded. “If I were that charm, I'd have let you die and found a sane adventurer.”

  Jeremy pulled up his stat sheet.

  Name: Jeremy Wilkins

  Race: Human

  Sex: Boy

  Age: 11

  Character Class: Child-Rogue

  Level: 19

  Health: 14

  Mana: 11 (+25 rapid recovery) (Charmed Object)

  Attributes:

  Strength: 14

  Endurance: 7

  Vitality: 6 (+1 rat pendant)

  Dexterity: 23

  Agility: 24

  Perception: 30

  Intelligence: 9

  Wisdom: 6 (+1 ring of wisdom)

  Will Power: 7

  Charisma: 4 (+1 clown nose)

  Extra point:

  Active Skills:

  Identify: 5

  Sneak: 8 (+2 magic shoes) (+1 camouflage ring)

  Detect Traps: 10

  Charmed Object Activation: 3

  Passive Skills:

  Enhanced Physical: 3

  Poison Immunity: 1

  Mental Fortitude: 6 (max)

  Pain Tolerance: 7

  Acid Resistance: 3

  Electric Resistance: 3

  Bite Resistance: 4

  Physical Shock Resistance: 1

  Parasite Resistance: 1

  Skills:

  Melee Weapons: 5

  Archery: 4

  Knife Throwing: 3

  Spells:

  Crude Heat Spell

  Crude Light Spell

  Summon Familiar

  Divine Rage

  Dungeon Account:

  12,453dc

  Titles:

  Slayer of Kritchek the Mighty Rat King!

  Big Slayer

  Friend of the Community!

  Marks:

  Bank-robber!

  Politician Hater!

  Gifts and Blessings:

  Blessing of the Spider Queen. .

  The god Arkys blesses your quest for vengeance.

  On a positive note, he now had a parasite resistance of one.

  As soon as he was able, he wrote on the cave wall what he'd done, explaining how he used spider poison to kill off the dungeon monsters while somehow surviving the experience.

  Then he wrote. I'm going to accustom myself to the effects of these dungeon monsters and continue my journey.

  He ate the last of the food he'd gotten from Lard Lump and as many dungeon rations as he could choke down.

  Dying and coming back to life again had put his problems in perspective; he no longer complained about the dungeon rations, just grateful he had something to eat.

  Flint came out of his sulk to speak to Jeremy for the first time in a week. “What do you think you're doing?”

  “I have a plan.”

  “And you're willing to stake your life on it?”

  “I don't see much choice, Flint,” Jeremy responded. “Do you?”

  “Let me put it this way. I know little about your mother, or mothers, and I can't say that I care. But you do care. So tell me, would Mother rather you return home, perhaps less strong than you'd like to be, or see you die in this godforsaken dungeon?”

  “Obviously, she would prefer I return.”

  “I thought as much. Now, I would like you to imagine I am Mother, telling you to take the dungeon's offer and leave.”

  “A little late for that. Don't you think?”

  “No, it is not,” Flint said. “Talk to the dungeon, tell Boggan you were wrong, and wish to leave. The dungeon loves being right. Boggan told me before he left that he would remove you from this place if you asked him to. You will have to leave the dungeon immediately, but that seems like a small price to pay.”

  “Why is the dungeon trying to get rid of me?” Jeremy asked. “I thought the purpose of the dungeon was to keep us here until we die so it can absorb our souls.”

  “I don't know,” Flint said. “It's certainly not the reason the dungeon has given. Perhaps you're getting too close to something the dungeon doesn't want you getting close to. Perhaps the dungeon is completely insane.”

  “That last is a given,” Jeremy said.

  “Yes. Now, Jeremy, I want you to pretend I am Mother. Take the dungeon's offer and leave the dungeon!”

  “If my mother were here. I would tell her I'm sorry, but I can't.”

  “WHY!” Flint shouted. “Do you want to die? You could be at home right now drinking hot chocolate with Mother! Are you completely insane?”

  Jeremy stared at the dungeon floor. “On the first floor of the dungeon, when we were in the spider lair, and I was wounded, you called me a coward. That hurt a lot.”

  “I said what I needed to protect my—I mean—our sacred mission. I took no pleasure in saying those things.”

  “What you said hurt because every word was true. I've never stood up to anyone in my life. When my companion was dying of a slit throat, I never seriously considered trying to help her. The four adventurers were bigger and stronger than me, and I don't stand up to things that are bigger and stronger than me.”

  “There was nothing you could have done, Jeremy. The four of them almost killed you as it is.”

  “I could have done more, could have done something, but I didn't. One of the last things my friend must have seen before she died was me running away like a coward, and I can't live that way, Flint. I'm going to leave this dungeon strong, not 'less-weak,' strong. Then I'm going to find Mezirma, and kill him.”

  “Mezirma lives in a different world from you, Jeremy, in some distant part of the universe. He is most likely home by now, telling the story of how he killed a ferocious Yagene, who no doubt grows bigger and fiercer with every retelling of the story. This is neither just nor fair, but the universe is neither a just nor fair place, and there is little any of us can do about it.”

  “I don't know how, but I'm going to find Mezirma and kill him. To kill Mezirma, I need to be strong. Clown Lord told me that if I get up to Physical Enhance 10, and investigate every nook and cranny of the dungeon and kill every boss monster I find, I will be strong. That is what I'm going to do.”

  “What you are going to do is die, Jeremy. The floors get harder as we continue, and you have been insanely lucky to survive this long. You died and came back to life. It's unlikely you will return from the dead a second time.”

  “If you find a way to leave this dungeon, Flint, leave. I will not hold it against you, but I'm staying. I will leave here when I'm strong, or I won't leave.”

  “Squeak?” Squeak had returned from its important mission, wondering what was going on.

  “You're the best, Squeak,” Jeremy said, pulling some tape from his barrier so Squeak's shadowy form could squeeze through the crack with a small dungeon insect while preventing his stolen dungeon torch from leaving.

  “My theory is this,” Jeremy said, taking the squirming dungeon insect from Squeak, careful to hold it with several layers of cloth to avoid being bitten. “All the dungeon creepy crawlies attacking me at the same time were too much for my body's defenses. That's why I almost died. But if I accustom myself to one insect at a time, I should reach the point where I can enter the creepy-crawly infested hallway without fearing for my life.”

  “And you have chosen the most painful dungeon insect to start with,” Flint said with a chuckle. “Let me know when you give up.”

  Jeremy rolled up his pants, exposing his lower leg, and then he placed the insect on his bare skin.