THE HEDGE WIZARD

©2022 ALEX MAHER

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ALSO IN SERIES:

Book One

Book Two

Book Three

For Elfi, who read more first drafts than anyone should have to.

CONTENTS

1. Grave Digging

2. Rusty Knight

3. The Unreachable Ale Mug

4. The Adventurer’s Guild

5. The Fool and the Knight

6. Death Magic and Fiancée

7. Bonefiend

8. Dungeon Encampment

9. Boiling Pots

10. Dungeon of Horrors

11. Kobold Slaughter

12. Bitter Victory

13. Think Before You Speak

14. Offer from Royalty

15. Potion Making

16. Once More into the Deeps

17. Dungeon Grove

18. Battle Amongst the Trees

19. Desperate Plan

20. Blessing of a God

21. Kobold Den

22. Rage

23. Aftermath

24. Kobold Village

25. Drums of War

26. Dark Rituals

27. Dungeon Heart

28. When the Dead Walk

29. Wizardfire

30. Tunnel Rats

31. The Butcher’s Corner

32. Questions in the Dark

33. River and Waves

34. Dungeon Spawn

35. Guardian of the Dungeon

36. Wolf Dragon Rampage

37. False Gods

38. Beyond the Veil

39. The Chosen

40. Battle for Bledsbury Dungeon

41. Last Hope

42. Dragon’s Heart

43. Dragon’s Legacy

44. Dragon’s Gift

45. Decisions for the Future

46. Overseer

47. Departure

Thank you for reading The Hedge Wizard

Afterword

Groups

LitRPG

ONE

GRAVE DIGGING

Hump buried the body beneath an ancient ash tree.

His master had taken an arrow to the shoulder—not too lethal for a wizard, most of the time. Hump cleaned the wound alright, and his potions did the job of removing the goblin poison. He’d never been much good at healing magic yet managed to seal the wound shut. If that was all, his master might have made it. But the gods had dealt them bad luck as they so often did with wizards. Three days of hard riding through wind and rain had taken their toll. When the fever struck, Hump knew there was no recovering. Now the ground got to keep him.

“Looks like it’s going to rain again,” Hump said, staring up at the grey clouds through the canopy. They were nearing the edge of Brookwood Forest. Another day or two and they’d have found a place to take shelter and rest. As it was, little but goblins and bandits dwelled within these trees, and travellers were few and far between.

Staying was dangerous. His master hadn’t woken in the morning, so Hump sat with him till he passed. It was well on its way to noon now, and he could be all but sure something would find their trail soon. By that point, Hump needed to be long gone or risk a similar fate. Despite knowing that, despite all the lectures on following wizard’s logic over emotions, he couldn’t leave. Not yet. He turned to his master’s stuff—well, his stuff now—looking everywhere but the grave. Only when there was nowhere left did he face his master for the last time.

He deserved better than to die to goblins. They’d been ambushed along the road. It was stupid, really. Goblins were no real threat on an ordinary day, but an arrow from the bushes was deadly whether it came from a Chosen archer or goblin runt. If it had only been a little further from his heart, or the rains hadn’t come, or they’d found a wagon along the road, perhaps his master would have made it. Hump wanted to curse the gods for such bad luck, but they weren’t listening, nor did they care.

This was the life they led. Gutter rat or silver spoon, all were swallowed by the ground just the same. Not that his master would make a fuss. ‘Dead is dead,’ he’d say. ‘And the dead don’t care.’

The dead might not, Hump thought grimly, but the dying certainly do. He’d died in a feverish sleep, groaning and gasping until the end. Still, there were worse ways to go.

Hump licked his lips as he searched for words, but his mouth felt dry.

“I’m sorry I don’t know what to say.” His jaw trembled. He took a deep breath, fighting to keep himself composed. “If you’d not picked me up, I’d no doubt be dead in an alley somewhere. I’ll never forget that. I won’t forget what you taught me either. I’ll practice my spells every morning I can, give the staff a good polish more often than it needs, and keep my head out of trouble.”

It was hard to look away. Hard to do anything. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. It wasn’t like he hadn’t buried bodies before. It was part of the trade. Being one of his own, though, it hit differently. For so many years, it had been just the two of them. He knew the dangers of the job, that eventually it would catch up to them. Somehow, he’d always thought it was something way off in the future.

“You deserved a better death.” He choked out the words, unable to hold back tears. “But you know how the gods are, they never cared much for us wizards.” He sniffed and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Look at me. I’m a mess.”

Prancer stamped his hoof and snorted, the grey horse a small reminder that Hump wasn’t alone. A sad smile came to his face. It was enough. “Prancer thinks so too. I’ll take good care of him. Give him an apple any time I’ve got a copper to spare.” He paused. “Guess that’s it. Just… well, rest easy, Master.”

It was much easier to fill in a hole than it was to dig one. From the odd glimpse of the sun he caught behind grey clouds, he guessed it was past noon when he finished. Plenty of time to find himself a new place to camp, but then what?

The thing he wanted most was sleep. It wasn’t just the sadness; he was empty, like a pit had opened inside him. Where would he go next? How would he survive?

Hump’s eyes wandered to the well-oiled wizard’s staff leant up against the tree. It had a white gemstone focus embedded in its head, made from the heartstone of an essenceroot tree if his master were to be believed. Beside it, a pouch full of potions lay on the ground alongside a leatherbound spellbook that he’d set on his master’s cloak.

From the outside, it wasn’t anything special. It looked like any old leather journal, but it was the prize of his master’s possessions. The one thing he’d never let him study. Sure, Hump had seen a few pages—it was full of detailed spell formations and potion recipes—the ultimate collection of hedge wizard knowledge. Yet his master never let him flick through those pages. For years, he’d longed to read all the knowledge passed down by their predecessors. ‘Too dangerous,’ his master had told him. ‘You’re not ready.’

Now that he had the chance, all he felt was doubt. How am I supposed to know when I’m ready?

Cautiously, he picked up the book and sat against the ash tree, placing it in his lap. He had a vague understanding of how it worked. This was a soulbound artifact, a hand-me-down from all their predecessors. And now it was his. He pulled open the leather cover to find seven names listed on the first page, each with a line through them. Each of them dead. His master’s name was at the bottom, crossed out just the same, and at the top… Hump frowned. The name was blotted out, hidden beneath the blackest ink.

Hump tried to turn to the next page when a sudden sliver of essence seeped out from the book and pricked the tip of his finger like a needle. He yelped, whipping his finger away and sucking it. A droplet of blood remained behind on the page. For a second, nothing happened. Then all at once a wave of pressure pierced Hump’s soul and ripped his essence from him. Blood and ink swirled on the aged yellow paper, and his name took form beneath his master’s. The eighth on the list.

“The old man never mentioned that,” Hump grumbled to himself. He inspected his wounded finger, squeezed out blood from the tip, then sucked it again. “Just got done burying him, and he’s still causing me trouble.”

The book abruptly changed pages, flipping through them as if stirred by a strong wind, coming to a stop on Transform Earth. The spell formation filled the lower half of the page in perfect detail.

SPELLBOOK

Transform Earth

Alteration | Chant | Tier 0 | Range: Short

Description

Create, shape, and manipulate earth through your touch.

Notes

y.501 – Ivish – A perfect spell for any budding wizard to practice three key elements of magic. Master the art of intent, envision your goal with clarity, perfect your control over essence, and the secrets of magic shall be yours. Plus, an impromptu ditch can make for a fantastic emergency hiding hole. (Mind the worms, they speak in tongues)

Hump frowned. He picked up the book again and started to close it, but it shook violently, falling from his hand and landing on the ground, where it flopped open to the same page again. Okay, now that’s weird.

He narrowed his eyes, half expecting it to jump up and do something. When it didn’t move, he felt like an idiot. The moment he reached toward it again, it shook. Hump sighed. “You’re not a normal book, are you?”

It shook again, vaguely shuffling toward the grave. Hump frowned. “You want me to use this spell…” He glanced from the book to the grave. “On the grave.” Then it dawned on him. “A tombstone.”

It shook again.

“Okay. Okay, I think I follow you. I’m going to pick you up now, so don’t bite me or anything.” Tentatively, he set the book back onto the spare cloak and stood. Taking his master’s staff from where it rested against the tree, he glanced once more at the book. Am I really going to follow instructions from a book? Stupid as it was, he didn’t like the idea of leaving the old man in an unmarked grave.

He took a stance at the head of the grave and planted the butt of the staff into the ground, gripping it tightly with both hands. Hump was short for sixteen, and the weapon extended well beyond his head. Still, holding it was a comfort, like a piece of his master remained with him.

He gathered his will, drawing upon the essence in the core of his soul. Transform Earth was one of the first spells he’d learnt—he’d always had a strong affinity with earth, and his master had used the cantrip as a shaping exercise that Hump could practice on the road. He’d never been much good at that aspect of it, shaping was too finicky. He was more the brute force type. Most of the time, he just used it to form stone shards that made good ammunition for Rockshot. What he was doing here wasn’t much harder.

He envisioned the shape of the tombstone in his mind. There was more to magic than merely being able to picture something, you had to fix the spell’s formational channels in your mind and have the conviction to make it happen. To believe indisputably that the world would move when you commanded. He could tell it was working when the essence within him began to stir and interact with that of the world around him. It washed through him from his heart to his hands in a wave of warmth, surging out of his fingertips and into his staff.

The runes along its shaft glowed with the essence of the earth, its bronze radiance smoking from them faintly. They were there to help control the essence, to give it power, and guide it into the heartstone focus at the head of the staff, where it would be contained until the spell was ready. As essence flooded in, the crystal shone brightly, the surface bubbling with light as the power inside tried to break free. The earth awakened in response. Particles of dirt rose into the air around Hump, hovering a few inches from the ground as if drawn up by a magnet.

“Transform Earth,” Hump whispered, releasing the spell.

A chill swept through him, jutting out from his heart—the price of using essence. Thin tendrils of bronze light spiralled from the crystal-like scraggly spiderwebs torn in the wind. They pierced the ground, seeking the stones below. He drew them to him, directing them with his will. At first, only the pebble-sized ones came, rising from the dirt and clumping together in the air before him, then the larger, fist-sized rocks. He shaped them into the tombstone, breaking and binding the stones together with an effort of will and essence.

When he was satisfied, he released it. The tombstone thumped to the ground. It was more oval than rectangle, and that was being generous. It had come out bumpy and rough where he’d bound the rocks together, but crafting essence into intricate shapes had never been his strong point. Even straight edges were a challenge. Essence smoked out from faint cracks in the stone, bronze light still glowing inside in a way that reminded him of molten rock. It was also a sign that he’d used far more essence than needed. Master Sethril would have chided him for such inefficiency.

He grunted as he heaved the stone into place, positioning it over the head of the grave. It was a mishmash of grey and brown stone, but it was better than nothing. Using the butt of his staff and a bit of essence, he scraped into it the words Sethril Woodrow. After a moment’s thought, he added, May the gods never catch him.

Hump smiled. His master would have liked that.

He walked back over to where he’d left the book. “Happy?”

The pages shuffled once more, opening to a page with only a single paragraph.

The Book of Infinite Pages

Introduction

To whosoever holds this book, this is a record of all those that have come before you. Where we have failed, there is hope for you to succeed, so learn well from our lessons. Trust in this book to aid you on your path, for it knows you better than you know yourself. When you are ready, our secrets shall be revealed.

“You’re going to teach me?”

The book didn’t move.

Hump tapped it with his finger. “Hello? How are you going to guide me? What do you do?” Still, nothing happened. Hump sighed. “Fat lot of good you are.”

Again, he found himself without purpose. Staring out into the shadows of the forest, he felt a shiver run down his spine, thinking of all the bandits or goblins that might be lurking. He knew he was hungry. They’d been on their way to a new dungeon that had opened in Bledsbury and hadn’t had a chance to stop for a proper meal. Dungeons were always a good source of work for hedge wizards, and being well within the kingdom’s territory, it would be safer than most. If he waited there, another wizard was bound to show up eventually. Maybe he could find himself a new apprenticeship. Sure, it was a difficult life, wandering from dungeon to dungeon, quest to quest, never staying in one place for more than a week or two. But that was the life of a hedge wizard, and it was a free and honest one.

Or perhaps he should head to the capital. He’d heard good things about the Elenvine Academy. His master had gone there, even made a bit of a name for himself—if his stories were to be believed. Though Hump didn’t much like the idea of being stuck within walls, reading books day after day.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and felt the icy touch of his master’s wizard medallion; he’d taken it from around his neck before burying him. He stared at the silver trinket, and the single stamped eye stared back. There’s another option, he realised. He had his master’s staff, his spellbook, and all the things a wizard needed.

After a moment, Hump hung the medallion around his neck, wincing against the cold—he would need to have the guild rebind it. He adjusted it so that it lay on top of his undershirt to keep the chill off his skin, then fitted the potion pouch to his belt, along with the spellbook, the weight of which made him feel off balance.

Standing there, he felt ridiculous, as if he were wearing somebody else’s clothes and they were all too big for him. Tentatively, he took up his master’s staff, the runes still glowing with the residual essence from the earlier spell. Where the light touched, his skin tingled with a pleasant warmth. He looked up at the sun, judging which way was east, then strode over to Prancer. It was only a few days' ride to Bledsbury, and a new dungeon was a better place than most to earn some coin.

TWO

RUSTY KNIGHT

When Hump finally dismounted, little of the day’s light remained save for a vein of molten gold that slowly lowered beneath the horizon. Not a day into his journey, and he’d already broken one of the old man’s rules: never leave it till dark to break for the night.

But a wizard had his ways.

“Light,” he whispered to his staff, forcing a sliver of essence into the focus. It shone with white light, illuminating the surrounding woodland just enough for him to find firewood. Wizard Light was a simple cantrip, something any wizard learnt as a child and one of the first spells the old man had taught him. The memory left him in a lull of solemnity.

He hadn’t known his exact age when he’d started his apprenticeship, so the old man decided he was six. Why he’d decided to pick some runt off the street to be his student, Hump had never understood. Best not to ask when you have a good thing going. Whatever the reason, it was the old man’s loss.

Hump sighed. It was too quiet on his own.

He set the fire the old-fashioned way. There was no use wasting what little warmth he had left on a spell, the night was too cold for that, and fire magic was about as inefficient as it got. He still had many more spells to cast before settling in, which was his priority. Brookwood was a dangerous place for a lone traveller, even more so if they were stupid enough to start a fire at night. He’d need to hide it well if he were to keep curious eyes away while he slept.

Sitting on part of a fallen tree beside the fire, he unbuckled the old man’s spellbook from his belt. “Don’t flip out on me, okay?” It didn’t do anything, which was exactly what he liked out of his books. He thumbed through the pages until he found the spell he needed.

SPELLBOOK

Hidden Fire

Illusion | Ritual | Tier 1

Description

Create a veil that conceals the light, sound, and smoke of a fire.

Notes

y.820 – Lector – A handy little spell I picked up from a mercenary in the Sweeping Meadows. Traded it for a night of drinks, would you believe it. Poor fool was too drunk to even remember.

Not used to being the one that got to ride Prancer, Hump ached more than usual as he lumbered about the campsite. He murmured the chant for Hidden Fire, using the butt of his staff to inscribe six runes into the ground surrounding his firepit. They were basic storage-type runes that would hold onto his essence for a good half day, maintaining the spell while he was asleep. They’d be washed away if it rained, but he’d be awake anyway by that point.

He followed the spellbook carefully as he went. He’d done it enough to have it practically memorised, but one could never be too careful with things like this. A single slurred word, and at best, he’d need to start over. At worst, he’d miss it and have a hole in his veil. He didn’t have the skill in illusions to make up for something like that, nor the essence to waste on a botched spell. When he muttered the final word of the chant, cold swept through him, spreading out from his core. The runes pulsed once with blue light and went dark.

He took a deep breath, clenching his teeth to help stop them from chattering. “It’s way too cold for this,” he muttered, rubbing his chest to try and bring back some of the warmth.

His soul was still reaching maturity, the next ten years or so being his most critical period of growth. On a good day, he could set up camp and train for a couple of hours each evening, practicing his basic shaping exercises and cantrips. Days of cold and danger had drained him of all the essence his reserves allowed him.

He knew what his master would say if he were with him. ‘Good for the spirit. Nothing pushes a wizard to grow like reaching their limits.’

It was tedious, but he checked the spell from every angle as he’d been taught, taking every care that neither light nor smoke escaped its confinement. Only once he was satisfied that he wouldn’t be knifed while he slept did he take his old cloak and sit down. Freezing and hungry, he huddled close to the fire, trying to take in as much of the heat as he could to replace what was lost. To think that, not even a week ago, he and his master had been at one campfire amongst many, feasting on venison with ale all around.

Funny how quick things change. His stomach grumbled, and he took a strip of salt beef from his pouch. He stared at it in the firelight and scrunched his nose. Even soaked, the blackened meat looked dry as a boot. Shame some things never do.

But food was food, even if it did taste like wood pulp.

If he were lucky, he’d reach an inn on the morrow and stuff himself silly. Maybe splurge on a scalding hot bath while he was at it. He deserved it after all he’d been through. Wizards were ill-suited to the cold.

* * *

“Ho there, stranger!”

Hump jolted, heart pounding in his ears. He’d fallen asleep by the fire with his head rested on his pack and staff hugged to his chest. Across the dying flames, two black figures stood stark against the night sky; a man as tall as any Hump had seen and his horse.

“Might I share your fire?” the stranger continued.

My fire? Hump thought through the fog of drowsiness. How the hell did he find the damn thing?

For a moment, Hump lay there frozen, holding his breath as if that would somehow make him disappear, all too aware of the sword at the man’s hip and the fact he was in bandit territory. Stop acting like some farmer’s daughter.

Slowly, he forced himself to nod. “P-please,” he said shakily, his voice barely a whisper, his throat tight from tension. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Please. Be my guest.”

“Thank you kindly. I was caught out by the dark and rode through the night in search of a place to stay. You know how it is.”

“Of course.”

The man started to tie his horse to one of the nearby trees. Hump pushed himself up and lay his staff across his lap, gripping it tight and pointing the focus at the man discreetly. Not that it could do much for his situation other than make him feel a little more comfortable. If it was just the one man, he could send him flying with an Essence Blast, but bandits worked in groups. Hump glanced nervously at the shadows beyond the fire, expecting more figures to appear at any moment and assail him.

The night was still. Not ten paces away, Prancer kicked at the ground and huffed in agitation, either caused by the presence of the new horse or something else. Hump wondered if he could reach the stallion before an arrow found him, though he abandoned the idea nearly as quickly as it came. Even on a good day he’d be too slow, and right now, his legs were stiff as logs.

He watched the big man with rabbit eyes as he petted his horse innocently. Nobody wakes a man before they jump him, Hump reassured himself.

The man stepped closer to the fire, and Hump had to crane his neck to look at him. Fair hair and handsome, he looked younger than Hump had first thought and not much older than him. If not for the rust spotting his chainmail and gaps where the rings had broken loose, Hump could have mistaken him for a knight. As he was, he looked every bit a bandit. Hump didn’t blink when the man removed his sword belt, handling the weapon as if it were a baby as he placed it carefully on the ground beside him. He slumped down next to it, his armour chinking.

Silence loomed between them but for the crackle of the dying fire.

“That a wizard staff?” the man asked.

Hump nodded. He gulped, waiting for an arrow to find his back.

“That explains the glow.”

Hump glanced at the focus crystal. He hadn’t meant to channel essence into it.

“You’re a wizard then?” the man continued. “What’s your name?”

He hesitated but saw no reason to hide it. “Hump.” After a second, he sat a little straighter and added, “Wizard Hump.”

“Wizard Hump?” The man bellowed a deep, chesty laugh that made Hump startle. “A grand name for a wizard!”

Hump forced himself to smile.

The man’s laughter suddenly stopped, and a frown formed on his face. “Come, man. You’re staring at me as if I were a bandit.”

Hump paused, carefully turning over all the questions in his head before deciding there was no good way to ask. “Are you not?”

The man stared at him, taken aback. “A bandit?” he spat. “I am Bud of Blackthorne, sworn Knight of Kelisia. I am no bandit! Here, look.” He pulled out a medallion from around his neck; a silver flame hung from the chain—the mark of Kelisia.

Hump frowned at him. A Chosen of the Frostfire Witch, the Goddess of Winter herself, was a rare thing. It could have been stolen, but a Chosen wouldn’t go down easily. Besides, he’d heard of a Blackthorne estate nearby—a small farming region held by some minor lord. “Then, there’s nobody out there ready to put an arrow through me?”

“Not that I know of,” Bud grumbled, putting the medallion away. “You really took me for a bandit?”

“Most knights I know don’t sneak up on people in the middle of the night.”

“A man in need is a man without heed, as they say. You’ll have to forgive me.” Suddenly, he rose to his feet and Hump flinched. Bud didn’t seem to notice as he walked back over to his horse, untying something from the saddle. “Here, I caught a pheasant a few hours back. I’ll split it if you like.” He held it up by its feet. “She’s a plump one. You can even have the bigger half.”

Hump blinked at the knight, then stared at the bird. His stomach groaned. Well, if I am to die tonight, at least it will be with a full stomach.

Hump forced himself to smile. “How could I say no to that?”

Bud grinned and returned to his place beside the fire, where he began plucking the bird.

“It’s Humphrey by the way.”

The knight glanced up. “Hmm?”

“You asked about my name; Hump is short for Humphrey. Not that you can make fun of it with a name like Bud anyway.”

The man appeared aghast. “What’s wrong with Bud?”

“Well, it’s not the knightliest of names, is it?”

“A name doesn’t make a knight,” Bud said seriously, wagging a feather at him like a finger. “I’m as much a knight as any man you’ll meet.”

“You’re the rustiest knight I’ll ever meet. Sir Rusty, I should call you. Or the Rusted Bandit.”

“Just Bud will suffice,” he said. “Neither name nor armour make a knight.”

“Then what does? Your sword?” Hump tilted his head, trying to get a look at it on the ground. The hilt looked much like every other sword he’d seen.

“My valour.”

Hump thought for a moment, then forced himself to relax, retracting his essence from his staff. “I can see some truth in that. You must have valour in bucket loads to be a Knight of Kelisia.”

“That’s going a bit far.” Bud laughed. “I simply do the best I can.”

“Is this your first time travelling alone?”

Bud looked at him sharply. “How did you know?”

“Only the arrogant or ignorant would approach strange fires in Brookwood. Bandits own these parts, and goblins stalk the parts they don’t. That’s why I took such care to hide my fire. Speaking of which…” Hump stared at his veil, perplexed. He could still sense his spell at work. “How did you find me? I have twice as many spells as I need to make sure no one can.”

Bud scratched the back of his head and chuckled.

“What?” Hump asked.

“You see, I kind of fell asleep. It was Asoltef that found you.” He thumbed toward his horse. “He’s always been good at taking me to the right place.”

Hump’s jaw dropped. He stared at the horse’s shadow, munching idly on a mouthful of grass. “And where’s he taking you now?”

“To the dungeon of Bledsbury. At least, I hope we’re heading there. Hard to tell which way I’m going with the sun lost behind the clouds all day.”

“Huh. As it so happens, I’m heading there too.”

THREE

THE UNREACHABLE ALE MUG

“It seems we’ve been blessed with another night beneath the stars,” Bud said. The rusty knight almost sounded pleased.

“That’s probably my fault,” Hump said wryly. “The gods hate us wizards.”

It was another cold, wet day of riding, and they’d passed neither inn nor farm. Somehow that did nothing to dull his new companion’s spirits. Bud rode with his head held high through wind and rain, always with a childlike glee in his eyes, as if every place he looked might harbour the start of some grand adventure. Hump knew enough to know the harsh reality of the world: if Bud looked too hard, all he’d find were bandits in these hills. There was no such thing as fairy tales.

There had been a time when Hump believed such things existed. He’d gazed upon the Chosen of the gods like everyone else, captivated by their divine presence, enamoured by the best humanity had to offer. Turns out, even heroes lose their shine when they’re dead in the mud. Wizards and other practitioners couldn’t afford such ideals. They had no godly boons or blessings, only the spells and skills they learnt through study and practice. Those passed on from master to apprentice, teacher to student, generation to generation.

Wizards found their own answers, for the gods sure as hell didn’t give them any clues.

Bud chuckled. “I’m sure it’s nothing personal. The gods work in mysterious ways.”

“Never seemed so mysterious to me. The Wizard’s Law is certain: whatever you hope to happen, won’t happen.”

“Now that’s just ridiculous.”

Hump shrugged. “Travel with me long enough and you’ll see just how true it is. When I want sun, I get rain. When I want an inn, I get empty lands of nothingness. When I want a quiet, undisturbed night beside my fire, a rusty knight shows up and scares the life out of me.”

Bud scratched the back of his head, a goofy grin on his face. “I said I was sorry about that. And you can’t expect the gods to plant an inn along the road just because you’re tired of sleeping outside!”

“Maybe not an inn… Would it have hurt them to have a merchant pass us by though? Just a little effort, that’s all I’m asking.”

“It is not for the gods to appease us,” Bud said. “Perhaps you bring bad luck upon yourself. I’d heard wizards went against the norm, but you’re asking for trouble.”

“You worried I’ll rub off on you?” Hump gave a mocking smile. “Kelisia might not be too pleased to know one of her honoured knights is travelling with a wizard. Not that she’d notice, she’d have to be listening for that.”

“I’m not so sure. Perhaps it was more than mere luck that I found you.”

Hump laughed. “There’s a theory. Perhaps she really is watching over us. In which case…” He gazed up at the dark clouds and raised his hands over his head, beseeching the heavens. “Send me an inn!” When nothing happened, he frowned and looked at Bud. “See, she’s not interested.”

Bud’s eyes went wide, his mouth dropped open. He looked from Hump to the sky as if waiting for a lightning bolt to strike him down. Finally, he shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a brave man, Hump.”

“I’m telling you, wizards are just cursed. That’s the life we chose.” Hump paused and rubbed his chin. “Though maybe having you about won’t be so bad. You are a Chosen, after all. Perhaps you’ll balance it out.”

“I fear it would take more than a single knight to balance you out,” Bud said, glancing nervously at the surrounding hills. “But I shall pray she doesn’t decide to bring bandits down upon us in the night.”

“Pray all you want. Just in case she’s not listening after all, I’ll cast my veils over the camp too. Not that it did me any good last night.”

Strange as Bud might be, Hump was glad to have him along. He kept his mind away from thoughts of his master and the lonely road ahead. Bud had the mannerisms of a lord, though lacked the pride and narcissism that usually came with it. From what Hump had pieced together, he was likely one of the sons of Lord Blackthorne himself. No doubt run off after a disagreement with his daddy. Either way, Hump found himself taking a liking to the knight.

Whether by Kelisia’s mercy or wizardry, the bandits left them undisturbed that night. And by noon the next day, they left the Brookwood behind for the farmland of Bledsbury. The shadows of the afternoon were growing long when they finally reigned in atop a hill that overlooked the town. It sat far below in the basin of the valley, dwarfed by the lake along which it was built. Farms quilted the hills from where they stood all the way down to the town. Across the lake was thick forest, only broken only by a long, grey road that wound its way through. The Mountain Road. The reason the king had announced a reward for whoever cleared the dungeon.

“It’s magnificent,” Bud said.

Hump nodded.

“Have you been here before?” Bud asked.

“No,” Hump said. “Most of my apprenticeship was spent in the south. We don’t have so many hills down there. You?”

“Not once. Amidst all my training, there was little room for travel. To think I would never have seen this if I hadn’t left home.”

“This type of terrain makes for hard travelling,” Hump said. “The horses won’t like it.”

“My Asoltef can handle it,” Bud said, patting the stallion’s neck.

Hump urged Prancer onward. “Good, but it’s not the stallion I’m worried about. Let’s hope someone in town knows where the dungeon is.”

Bud followed at his side, eyes wandering the mountains surrounding them, roaming over the great lake below. Hump could almost hear his mind ticking.

“It almost seems a shame not to find a nice spot along the lakeshore and set up camp,” Bud said. “Why be indoors when we could be out here? One with nature.” He took a deep, deep breath and let out a long sigh.

“Feel free,” Hump grumbled. “You want to spend another night getting pissed on by the heavens, I won’t stop you. Myself, I want a hot meal and an even hotter bath.”

“You’re right. I know it. But I’ve spent all my life cooped up on the estate or in the city. It’s been rather nice to spend some time out on the open road, man against the elements. It’s almost primeval.” He paused. “A hot meal does sound nice though.”

It was a deceptively long way to the town, and twilight graced the sky when the sound of music and voices reached Hump from an inn. They’d made it. “Thank the gods,” Hump said, and for once, he meant it.

The Lake in a Bottle was packed with twice as many people as there was space for, squashed up on long, makeshift tables and benches set up in rows to make room for as many as they could. Built of rough and polished timber, the inn was two stories tall—an impressive size by the standard of most small towns but not enough to house all those that had flocked for the dungeon.

Hump took in the scent, mouth salivating. “Can you smell that?”

Bud scrunched his nose. “Smoke, stale ale, and sweat. Indeed I can.”

“Not that, you rusty fool. Food!”

“Well yes, that too.”

The innkeeper handed five mugs full of ale to a serving girl on their approach, then wiped down the counter. He was a thin man with dishevelled greying hair and tired eyes. When he spotted them, he looked more stressed than pleased. “Ain’t got no more beds if that’s what you want. We’re stuffed as a pig.”

Hump scrunched his nose. Maybe they would be camping by the lake after all.

“What about food and beer?” Hump asked. “Oh, and a bath.”

“No baths for diners.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” he said blandly.

“No, you do not. Just the food then.”

He nodded. “What’ll it be? We’ve lamb and boar on the spit. Chowder in the pot.”

“I’ll have the boar,” Hump said.

“What about you, big fella?” he asked Bud, who was looking around the room as if he’d walked into a zoo.

“What? Oh. The chowder if you would. And have you got any cheeses? A flagon of wine would go down splendid too.”

He nodded and looked at Hump. “Drink?”

Hump grinned. “Beer.”

“Susie!” He shouted to the back. “One pork, one chowder!” He turned back to them. “Two copper for yours,” he said to Hump. “Eight for the big man.”

Hump looked at his lordling friend expectantly. For a moment, Bud appeared confused. Then in a panic, he slapped his hand to his belt, searching along it. His eyes widened.

“No!” Hump growled. Pure shock stormed through him. “You didn’t!”

“I…” Bud winced in that same face Hump had seen a hundred times.

Hump glanced at the innkeeper then back to Bud. He stepped closer to the knight and whispered, “Tell me you didn’t leave home without your coin.”

“I… erm, well. I left in somewhat of a hurry.”

“You’re a knight!” Hump snapped. “How could you have no coin?”

“Either pay or leave,” the innkeeper said. “Not sure you noticed, but we’re a bit busy.”

Hump gritted his teeth, so angry and hungry he could have tossed the knight out onto the street. But the fantasy was fleeting. Bitterly, he took four coppers from his purse. “Forget the wine, he’s having beer too. And no cheese.”

The innkeeper nodded and poured out their drinks.

Hump glared at Bud. “You owe me a bloody castle.”

Bud grinned. “You truly have Kelisia’s generosity—”

“Don’t say it,” Hump snapped. “Don’t you dare say it. This is my generosity. You owe me!”

It didn’t take long for a woman to bring out their dishes. She nodded toward the tables. “Find yourselves a seat.”

Hump stared at his beer on the counter. Plate in one hand, staff in the other, he was stumped. For all the spells he knew, he lacked the truly important ones.

The woman looked at him as if he were an idiot. “Someone will bring it over for you. Stop standing around and go sit yourself down.”

Hump smiled awkwardly. “Thanks.” But when he turned around, his shoulders slumped. “Easier said than done,” he muttered.

Oddities always seemed to gather in places like this, looking for work just as he was. And always with more sharp and pointy things than he’d have liked. There were few places one could find outlaws sharing tables with soldiers, mercenaries with adventurers, vagabonds with thieves, or a duo of pale-skinned northmen the size of bears with a woman pressed between them. Hump made a point to stay away from those last ones. All would be competition for the king’s grand bounty: the dungeon core.

Not that Hump expected to claim such a prize. He’d be happy to get away with a few midweight heartstones and a couple of gold coins. Unlikely enough to purchase any spell higher than Tier 1, but it would keep him going till his next job.

“Right,” Hump said, searching for seats. “Go find us some of Kelisia’s generosity.”

“Over there.” Bud pointed.

Hump followed his finger to a gang that could either be bandits or sellswords, who looked six pints in already. They didn’t have much in the way of armour, but they had the broken noses and scars to show they lived the rough life. Not the best of company, but there were two vacant seats at the end of their table, and Hump was too hungry to care.

The moment they sat down, the table went quiet. Mugs clattered against the hardwood, and the six men gave them a wicked look.

The broad-shouldered man at the centre of the group leant forward with a toothy smile. He had dark eyes and dark hair, and the stare he gave them was darker still. “Hello there,” he said, loud enough for the whole room to hear. “I’m Nel. What’s your name, knight?”

“Bud of Blackthorne,” Bud proclaimed, extending a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

The man grinned but didn’t take it. “You in town for the dungeon?”

“You guessed it,” Hump said.

“I wasn’t talking to you, kid,” he growled. “Shut your mouth.”

Bud stiffened. “There’s no need to be rude.”

Nel laughed loudly. Slowly, he rose from his chair and sauntered over to stand behind Bud. He rested a knobbly hand on Bud’s shoulder. “Funny you should say that. I always heard a lot of good things about you knights. You reckon you’ll take home the treasure?”

“It’s my first time in a dungeon,” Bud said, frowning at the man’s hand. “I don’t expect too much, but a man can hope, eh?”

“Well put,” Nel said. “You see, my friends and I need the coin. Where a man like you, well, the armour’s got to cost more than I’ve ever had. Right?”

“Believe me,” Hump said, “he’s broke as they come. And that armour’s half rust.”

“Kid,” Nel levelled hollow eyes at him. “I told you to keep your mouth shut. You interrupt me again and I’ll smash your teeth in.”

Hump stared at him. His grip tightened on his staff. A part of him wanted to hit the man with an Essence Blast. He was confident he could take him in a one-on-one, but with his friends nearby, those odds plummeted. That, and the innkeeper would kick him out if he got in a fight, whether it was his fault or not. He’d already paid for his food…

Bud stood, nearly seven feet of metal and muscle, shoving off Nel’s hand and looming over the man. “Now you’re going too far,” he growled.

Nel squared up to Bud, but being at least a head shorter than the knight, it was more amusing than threatening. “Sit down, boy,” he snarled.

Bud placed a hand on Nel’s shoulder. “I think that’s enough.”

As one, the rest of Nel’s group were on their feet. The music in the inn went quiet, and Hump felt all eyes turn to watch.

Hump glanced at the pork on his plate and sighed. He started to stand, but one of Nel’s lackeys tried to stop him. Hump pointed his staff at the man, gathering his will. He constructed the spell formation in his mind, fuelling it with essence. “Blast,” he whispered. The runes along his staff shimmered faintly blue, and power pulsed from the focus, exploding in a wave of pure essence. Hump hadn’t put much strength into the spell, just enough to send the man stumbling back. He tripped on the leg of the bench, crashing to the floor entangled with the legs of the man behind him.

And then Hump was on his feet, his staff poised to launch another spell, his left hand ready at his side. The few pieces of battle magic he knew were the prize of his collection. They required only an envisioned spell formation and the appropriate amount of essence, though using the incantation helped provide focus. Hump could practically taste the words on his lips, calling to him, lulling him to let loose the ancient power.

“I wouldn’t start anything if I were you,” he said instead. To emphasise his point, he channelled a little extra essence into his staff. The runes smouldered, and the crystal pulsed with light, simmering beneath the surface as if waiting for a chance to be set free.

The closest two recoiled, covering their faces, expecting a second Essence Blast. Hump gave them his most pleasant smile.

For a long moment, the inn was silent with tense trepidation. Hump’s gaze moved between the sellswords. Each of them stayed back, glancing at each other, waiting for someone else to make the first move. Good, Hump thought. That’s what they get for picking a fight with a hungry wizard.

At the next table along, another man stood up—a soldier from the looks of him. “There a problem here?” He wasn’t as tall as Nel, let alone Bud, but he had the build of a man who’d trained all his life and the light brown hair common to those of the south.

Nel glanced at him, then back to Bud. His lips tightened into a sinister smile, and he looked Bud right in the eye. “Course not. No problem at all.” He shrugged Bud’s hand from his shoulder and stepped back. “We’re all friends here.” Hump noticed the sneer on the man’s face when he sat back down, the rest of his lackeys following hesitantly.

Bud was still frowning at the sellsword. His type might not be common in the inns the lordling was used to, but most low-level dungeons had their rogues in Hump’s experience. They never messed with his master though. The old man had an aura to him that made it clear to everyone he was not a person to be taken advantage of.

“Leave them,” the soldier said. “They’re not worth the trouble. You two best find yourself another table.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Hump said. “Thanks for your help.”

The soldier nodded. “Dangerous place for two young lads. Look out for yourselves.” He took his seat, the other soldiers continuing as if nothing had happened.

Hump picked up his plate and sighed. All he wanted was a hot meal.

This would never have happened to the old man, he thought bitterly.

FOUR

THE ADVENTURER’S GUILD

SPELLBOOK

Essence Blast

Evocation | Battle Magic | Tier 1 | Range: Medium

Description

Gather essence to your will and unleash it in an explosion of force.

Notes

y. 509 – Ivish – They stopped teaching battle magic by the time I entered the Wizards’ Academy, but we had our ways of finding secrets. This seemingly basic technique is the foundation of many evocation spells.

Hump woke bleary-eyed to the shouts of two fishermen on the lake. It was early morning. A cold mist hung over the lake that seeped out onto the bank near where they’d made camp. He felt that cold twice. He’d stayed up late reading through his spellbook, maintaining a Wizard Light spell for far longer than he should have, and now it was catching up on him.

The book was far from the collection of magical secrets he’d been hoping for. Instead, it seemed to have recorded all the spells he already knew, along with many of the lessons the old man had drilled him on a hundred times before. While there was nothing of particular use right now, it was interesting to read the notes left behind by his predecessors. At the same time, he’d been hoping for something more… tangible. Whatever secrets it supposedly contained, he couldn’t find them. Even a few new spells would have gone a long way.

Bud was rested up against a tree nearby, the big man still asleep, huddled in an expensive wool cloak. There were a few other campsites along the shore, likely other dungeoneers that had arrived too late to get a room or simply didn’t have the coin.

Hump lay there for a long minute, staring at the fishermen with narrow eyes. With every fibre of his being, he willed them to be quiet. Perhaps if he were a little warmer, he’d have mustered up the strength for a spell and blasted them into the lake. That would shut them up. Lucky for them, he was cold, tired, and hungry—the three components that made up any true hedge wizard.

Even an experienced hedge wizard like himself could only hold on for so long, and soon the complaints of his stomach won out. Hump used his staff to heave himself to his feet, groaning as he did, feeling every bit as frail as an old man. He stumbled over to Bud and shook him with his foot.

The knight startled, slurping a strip of drool, blinking painfully against the morning sun. “What is it?” he slurred.

“Morning,” Hump said bluntly. “We’d best get moving if we’re to reach the dungeon today.”

He looked around groggily, blinking back sleep. “Yeah, just, erm…” He wiped a hand over his face and closed his eyes. “Just give me a few minutes.”

“A good adventurer must always be ready to go!” Hump said, doing his best impression of his master.

Bud groaned and lifted his cloak over his eyes. Hump chuckled, then set about feeding Prancer and Asoltef, leaving the lordling a few minutes to acclimatise.

Bledsbury was coming to life as they entered town. They passed small groups of labourers heading for the farms that Hump and Bud passed the day prior. There was a buzz of voices from the market, and the smell of freshly baked bread lured him in that direction. The Adventurer’s Guild could wait, breakfast came first.

He noted an apothecary along the way. Nothing fancy, but he’d be able to stock up on ingredients before they left. One could never be too prepared for a dungeon, even a supposedly low-levelled one.

“I really do appreciate all your help,” Bud said, tearing into his half of a loaf of bread.

“Well don’t count on it lasting long,” Hump grumbled. As much as it pained him, a few coppers to keep a Chosen knight in his party was well worth the price. Unlike Bud, the horses had earnt the copper it cost to purchase a couple of apples. It had been a long ride.

“You know I’ll pay you back.”

Like I’ve not heard that one before, Hump thought. “Sure. So long as we don’t die in the dungeon,” he said instead.

It was difficult to come by a companion he could count on. Mercenaries and adventurers were mostly in it for the money—that made them hard to trust. From what Hump could tell of Bud, he was more the type of idiot to get himself killed defending a woman’s honour than he was a thief.

“If I do die, feel free to take my sword. That will cover any debt between us, I’m sure.”

Hump glanced at the longsword at his hip and arched an eyebrow. Contrary to the condition of his armour, the sword appeared finely kept. The steel hilt was finely polished and decorated with a circlet of bronze toward the crossguard. It had a plain leather scabbard, bolstered with steel at the end. “Family heirloom?”

Bud nodded.

“Lucky you,” Hump said. “Well, with any luck it won’t come to that. You’ll scare half the monsters to death just from the size of you.”

Bud smiled, a nostalgic look in his eye. “Do you have any family?”

“If I do, they didn’t bother to inform me. The old man was the closest thing.”

“Is he dead?” Bud asked quietly.

Hump nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that. How long has it been?”

Hump sighed. There was no point hiding it. “I buried him the morning before you ambushed me.”

Bud paused, looking up at the clouds. “He’d be proud to know you carried on in his footsteps. I’m sure Kelisia brought us together for a reason.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.”

The guildhall was a small, stone building on the side of the town guard’s barrack. Inside was a waiting area, a front desk with a backroom behind it, and a single private room off to the side. The hall was empty, so Hump rang the bell on the counter.

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” a woman called from the back.

Hump glanced over the noticeboard on the wall behind the desk, skimming over various bounties and requests. As expected of a small town, there was little work for adventurers. A couple of bandit bounties, though none famous enough Hump had heard of them. The board was mostly filled with caravan escort missions. In Hump’s experience, those were the worst. Most paid by the day and expected you to provide your own food.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” a woman said, coming out from the backroom. She was pretty, with chestnut brown hair tied up into a bun at the back.

“That’s alright,” Hump said. He nodded toward the empty waiting room. “Not had many adventurers show up?”

The woman laughed, though Hump thought it sounded more like a cackle. “To the contrary, the king’s bounty has made us busy. Most of our staff and adventurers have already left for the dungeon encampment. You two are a couple of weeks late.”

“Well, we’re here now,” Hump said. “And we’re here to help.” He leant an elbow on the desk and smiled.

She looked him up and down with a frown. Not quite the reaction Hump had hoped for, but one he’d come to expect. “Are you a member?” she asked sceptically.

“Not yet,” Hump said, standing back and pulling his master’s medallion from around his neck. His clothes had protected him from the cold bite of its touch, but in his hand, it felt like ice. “This belonged to my master. I’d like to have it rebound to me.”

“Let me have a look,” she said. He handed the medallion over, and she pulled out a mirror reader from one of her desk drawers. The artifact was a thin metal box with a mirror on the front. Within, Hump knew it to be laced with all sorts of complex runes but, simply put, it allowed the Adventurer’s Guild to keep a record of its members across all its branches. She inserted the medallion, along with a small heartstone crystal for a supply of essence. The surface of the mirror shimmered. Inky black ripples swirled and gathered into words.

“It’s registered to a Sethril Woodrow, a bronze 3 adventurer,” she said.

“That’s correct. He was a wizard, like myself. He was injured while passing through Brookwood last week and passed away a few days ago.”

“I’ll need proof you are his apprentice,” she said frankly.

Hump unclipped his book from his belt and opened it to the first page. “Here.”

“What’s this?” she asked.

“His spellbook,” Hump said. He pointed at the old man’s name on the list, then at his own. “And now mine.”

She huffed out a breath of air and shook her head. “I’m going to need more than this. A writ of inheritance, a last will and testament, anything of that sort.”

“Oh…” Now that might pose a problem. Master Sethril had loathed anything to do with the institutions that ran Alveron and avoided giving them any documentation he could. “Is this really not enough? This spellbook is all I have. His death was rather sudden, as you might expect in this line of work.”

Her frown became tight, and Hump couldn’t help but feel as if she were accusing him of something. “Then I’m afraid I can’t help you. Without proof of who you are, we can’t admit you to the guild. For all we know, you killed Mister Woodrow and stole his possessions.”

“I’d never do that,” Hump growled. “He took me in as a boy. I can prove to you I’m a wizard. Hell, I could qualify on my own skill alone if I wanted to.”

“Not anymore,” she said. “Until we have proof that you really were his apprentice or conduct a full investigation into this matter, you can’t undergo the trial of admittance.”

Hump’s stomach sank.

“That’s ridiculous,” Bud said. “How is he supposed to prove anything now that his master has passed beyond the Veil?

“Not my problem.” She hesitated, seeming to consider something for a moment.

Hump latched onto it. “Please, if there’s any other possibility. This medallion means a lot to me, and I can’t stand the thought of giving it up.”

She sighed. “There is another option. If you can have a guild member of silver rank or above vouch for your identity, that would suffice.”

“Silver…” Hump didn’t have contacts like that. “Look, we’re here to help. I don’t know any silver ranked adventurers, but can’t you just make an exception this once?”

“I can’t bend the rules. I’m sorry, but they are there for a reason. Imagine what would happen if we allowed anyone with a dead adventurer’s medallion to join the guild. Guild members would be hunted down, their quest rewards stolen.”

“Fine, don’t sign me up. Can you at least tell us where the dungeon is? We’ll do the rest without the guild’s assurance.”

Her brow furrowed. “That information is for members only.”

Hump clenched his jaw. “You must be joking. The whole town must know by now.”

“Feel free to ask them instead,” she snapped.

“Then I could sign up, couldn’t I?” Bud said. “I’m a sworn Knight of Kelisia.” He pulled out his own medallion, the silver flame shimmered with a tint of blue that Hump hadn’t noticed before. “This should be proof enough.”

She leant forward and scrutinised the medallion, then glanced at Bud, her accusatory glare now sweeping over the state of his equipment. “Very well. There’s a three silver fee.”

Hump and Bud glanced at each other. Hump shrugged helplessly. A few coppers were one thing, but three silvers was serious money. “I don’t have it.”

“Then come back when you do.” She looked between the two of them. “Now, is there anything else?”

Hump held out his hand. “I want my medallion back.”

“As I said. Until you have—”

“Lady, the proof was to have the medallion rebound. Unless you have reason to accuse me of my master’s death, you have no excuse to keep it.”

She rolled her eyes and took it from the artifact, passing it back. “Is that all?” she asked tightly.

Hump snatched it back and returned it to his neck. “Yes. You’ve taken good care to ensure every avenue is closed. Thanks for that.”

“Then have a good day,” she said, leaving for the backroom once more.

“She was pleasant,” Bud said quietly.

Hump sighed. “What do we do now? I was counting on the guild for a map and details on what type of monsters had spawned inside.”

Bud scratched his chin thoughtfully, then smiled. He took a small sheet of paper from the corner of the notice board, one Hump had missed on his first glance. It read:

Dungeon Guide

Brave Adventurers, look no further for the best guide in town. The mountains are a perilous place for those that don’t know the trails. Trust me to take you to the dungeon quickly and without trouble.

For those interested, meet at the Standing Pony, North Bledsbury, at 10 in the morning. Twenty coppers per person. Adventurers go free.

Your Humble Guide

Norwin Gosb

“Well, that solves that problem,” Hump said. “You might have a knack for this adventuring business after all.”

Bud perked up. “What, really?”

“For finding a pamphlet?” Hump snorted. “No!”

FIVE

THE FOOL AND THE KNIGHT

They spent what time they had left of the morning gathering supplies. Hump had counted on his Adventurer’s Guild membership to access any information he would need—without that, things were tricky. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d enter a dungeon unprepared though. Part of being a hedge wizard was figuring things out on the fly.

The need for food was obvious. The region was mountainous, and they couldn’t count on the land to feed them or their horses. He purchased most of the supplies at the market: hard bread, a sack of potatoes, oats, carrots, and without his master there to manage the budget, he’d splurged on some cured sausages. Four days of food didn’t come cheap, especially not with a broke-arse-knight to feed, but he wouldn’t be entering the dungeon hungry.

Unlike the Chosen, Hump’s magic came from his soul and its power to attract essence from the world around him. It took a toll on his body, so he’d need all the energy he could get. By the end of his shopping, he stared down sadly at the little over a silver he had remaining. It wasn’t so bad. If the dungeon didn’t work out, he still had a few of his master’s potions he could sell to keep him going. As it stood, they were worth more to him than coin.

“What next?” Bud asked.

“Wizarding things,” Hump said as he made his way back down the street to where he’d spotted the herbalist shop before. “I need some ingredients. We wizards don’t all have it as easy as you. No god grants me my spells. They have a cost. For some of them, that cost is in components; for others, it’s simply in essence.”

Magic was simple for the Chosen: the gods granted them access to a little of their power and the blessings they needed to use it. After that, there was little skill required to make a blessing work. Mutter the incantation, adopt the correct stance, and will it to activate. Easy. The gods did all the heavy lifting for them. There was no need to understand how the magic actually worked. It was imbued upon them, inscribed on their souls in a circle of all-powerful God Glyphs. They were simply Chosen.

On the other hand, practitioners like wizards figured most of it out for themselves. Sure, they had a starting point. Many spells were devised from the powers of Chosen, but there was no getting around the painstaking research that went into every spell and the natural talent and training required to actually wield it.

Hump patted the hefty tome on his belt just to reassure himself it was still there. The thought of losing it was a waking nightmare. While the exact functions of the artifact were still a mystery to him, hidden behind whatever enchantment gave it strength, he knew it was stuffed full of spells and diagrams, potion recipes and formations, along with a good deal of ramblings from his predecessors. It was all that separated him from being a peasant. Worse than that, a gutter-wizard. Barely more than a homeless wanderer.

The passages he wasn’t familiar with weren’t exactly useful. He’d spent each night flicking through them, familiarising himself. One ritual in particular came from a small village in Lisarnu that functioned nowhere else. He’d never seen his master use it—partially because of the logistical issues involved, even more so because it involved a night of naked dancing in a gathering of no less than thirty, but no more than fifty-two. How they’d worked that out, he didn’t know.

Why that spell was in there but not the countless earth spells Hump knew his master to be proficient in was beyond him. Aside from Rockshot and a few specialist utility rituals, it was all cantrips and Tier 1 magic. Nothing that could push him.

Entering the herbalist, the potency of dried herbs stung at Hump’s nostrils like a fragrant punch. It was a small shop, with shelves packed so tightly together that Bud had to scoot along sideways to avoid knocking anything over. The shopkeeper watched them discreetly—not obvious, but Hump abandoned the urge to slip anything into his pockets.

He picked through the shelves with a discerning eye. Outside of cantrips, few of his spells worked purely on the strength and will of his body. They needed help. Most of his more specialist spells required long chants and ingredients to function—another of the long list of reasons why they’d never had much coin. Without any information on the dungeon, he decided on a selection of general-purpose healing and utility.

There was no real science behind the components. He’d had a long conversation with a dwarven chemist about the makings of magical potions—she’d been trying to replicate a healing potion—and by the end of it, he could practically see the smoke coming out her ears.

Usually, the physical properties of the ingredient weren’t important, but rather the symbolic link between them and the spell. A package of chicken bones might seem useless to anyone but a cook, but it was part of the only spell he knew that could mend a bone.

One theory was that a spell’s effects came from the belief in the rituals and incantations; that the components were just a prompt to help solidify one’s conviction. His master seemed to believe it had some weight, though Hump had never been able to pull off a ritual without following the instructions.

“What’s this?” Bud asked, bending over to peer into a jar of beige liquid. He tapped the glass, and a tiny creature suctioned itself to the spot, a hole filled with teeth between its tentacles. Bud whipped his hand back in a panic. “Yuck! It’s alive in there!”

“Don’t be such a wuss,” Hump said, laughing. “It’s an inksquid. Feed it a few droplets of blood and it can fill up an ink vial. They’re harmless.”

“Doesn’t look harmless.”

“Don’t worry, Bud. I’m sure it’s more afraid of you than you are of it. You stand guard, I’m going to finish shopping.”

Bud scowled. “Yeah, yeah. Go on then, get what you need.”

Hump smiled. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a tenth of the coin to pay for everything he needed. In the end, he settled for a sack of salt, a mix of dried herbs, chicken bones, a new stick of glowchalk, and a small jar of heartstone powder. It wasn’t much, and it didn’t replace all that he’d used to try and heal his master, but it would have to do.

Let’s just hope nobody loses a limb, Hump thought as they left for the rendezvous point. Or at least, not an important one.

They arrived outside the Standing Pony a good half-hour before the allotted time. Their guide, Norwin, was a slim man with short brown hair that was beginning to recede from his forehead. The moment he greeted them, Hump was reminded of the quick-talking city merchants; overly friendly and far too enthusiastic to be honest. Despite that, the sight of the other two groups waiting gave him confidence.

“Look who we have here!” one of the soldiers cheered. He was a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and a scraggly beard, the same man that had helped them in the inn. “We thought you’d be scared off after last night.”

“Not likely,” Hump said. “Wouldn’t be much of a dungeoneer if a handful of drunks scared us off.”

The soldier was part of a party of six, each armoured in mail and leather, equipped with various weapons. Two archers and four shield-bearing fighters, only two women amongst them. Like him, these people wouldn’t be Chosen, but as the old man always said, anyone that commits their life to training is to be respected. They would make for good travelling companions.

“No, you wouldn’t,” the man said. “But you taught them, eh. It was quite the show you put on. What are you, Chosen of Seres?” The God of Wind and Storm.

Hump shook his head. “Just a hedge wizard. I’m Hump.”

He shrugged. Despite hiding it, Hump could tell he was disappointed. A hedge wizard could never be compared to a real sorcerer after all.

“It’ll be good to have you with us, Hump.” He turned to Bud and grinned widely. “But there’s no mistaking you for a knight. I bet the gods were fighting over you, huh?”

Bud scratched the back of his head and smiled awkwardly. “I don’t know about fighting… but yes. I am Bud of Blackthorn, sworn Knight of Kelisia.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oof, we’ve got a fancy one. The name’s Gerard. I’m the leader of this sorry band. This is Soot, Linsel, Bowin, Shar, and the big guy over there is Farris.”

Farris nodded to them. “Good to see you again, lads. Glad to see you took our warning at the inn to heart.”

“Got to work if I want to eat,” Hump said. “And this is the only job I know. Don’t worry about us.”

The woman introduced as Shar looked him over. “Aren’t you a bit young for an adventurer?”

“Just short,” Hump said.

The older fellow hopped down from his perch on the fence and wandered over, rubbing his hands together. “Ah. Everyone is getting along,” Norwin said. “That’s what I like to see. No infighting, no running off, and by the gods’ will, we’ll make it to the dungeon safely. Isn’t that right, friends?” He stopped before Bud. “Now about my payment…”

“We’re adventurers,” Hump lied, pulling his master’s medallion out from around his neck and holding it out for him to see.

Norwin glanced at it. “Ah,” he said, deflated. “Then forget I said anything.”

Hump tucked the medallion away before anyone thought to touch it and confirm if it was truly his or not. He felt bad about lying, but he’d spent the last of his coin at the herbalist, and by all rights, he should have been an adventurer anyway. Why should he have to pay just because some woman was trying to make his life difficult? If he made it out of the dungeon alive, he’d be sure to give the man a tip.

Right after Bud pays me back, Hump thought. With interest.

A pale glimmer caught Hump’s eye. Three northmen stood apart from their group, talking together in hushed voices, their ghostly skin shielded from the sunlight beneath thick fur hoods. From their equipment, Hump took them to be fast and fierce, forgoing the heavier armour that most of Alveron used in favour of thick furs. Both men carried axes, one a one-hander and a round wooden shield, the other a two-handed monster of an axe that Hump was certain weighed as much as he did. The third was a woman. She carried a bow that was half the size of Gerard’s soldiers.

When she caught him staring, she met his gaze with the confidence of a huntress and smirked. Her eyes were a shimmering yellow, like a cat. He’d never heard of anyone with eyes like those. Hump inwardly cringed that she’d caught him staring, so he smiled and waved an awkward hand. She turned back to her group.

Now I look like an idiot, he thought to himself.

They waited every minute until the tenth bell rang; Norwin not the slightest bit intimidated by the huddle of soldiers and barbarian northmen hustling him to get moving. But the man’s patience paid off when two cloaked figures approached them from Bledsbury.

“So glad you could make it,” Norwin said fondly. “I am Norwin, your guide.”

The taller of the two travellers was a man with brown hair slicked back onto his head. Everything about him was sharp. He had the face of a hawk, his nose long and pointed, his eyes narrow and observant. At his hip, he wore a sword, its hilt lavishly decorated with silver and in the single-handed style typical of nobles. The man glanced over them, and Hump’s heart thumped loudly in his ears. There was a pressure to his gaze.

The other was a girl a little older than Hump. She was taller than him—of course—with reddish hair curling down past her shoulders, framing a face fit for a painting. Not your typical adventurer, that was for sure, but she had a bow strapped to her horse and a dagger at her hip.

“Greetings, my good man,” the sharp fellow said cheerfully. “I am Vamir. I was beginning to fear we might have missed you.”

“Not late at all. Not at all,” Norwin said quickly. “Your messenger arrived in good time. I made sure to tip a coin for his efforts.”

“Much obliged,” Vamir said.

“Might I ask who the beautiful lady is?” Norwin smiled; it only came across as slightly creepy.

The girl glanced behind her, then back at the man. She feigned surprise, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oh, you meant me. I’m Celaine.”

Norwin’s smile twitched. “A pleasure, Celaine. Truly.” He turned back to Vamir. “Though it pains me to mention it, I must bring up the matter of the fee…”

“How much will it be?” Vamir asked.

“Twenty coppers each,” Norwin said.

Vamir pulled a coin from the purse on his belt and flipped it through the air with his thumb. The coin chimed as silver flipped over and over, glinting in the sunlight. Hump’s eyes followed it hungrily. Norwin snatched it with greedy hands, eyes wide.

“Thank you, milord,” Norwin said.

“Think of it as an advance to see us there quickly,” Vamir said. “There will be another upon our prompt arrival.”

“Of course, milord,” Norwin said. He glanced up at the sun. “Let us be off then.”

Hump and Bud followed toward the back of their small column, following the Mountain Road north. Hump couldn’t help but grin.

“What are you so happy about?” Bud asked.

“I was just thinking that maybe you’re right. Maybe a god is looking out for us after all.”

Bud narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah? What makes you say that.”

Hump’s smile widened. “Good company.”

SIX

DEATH MAGIC AND FIANCÉE

One could never be too careful when close to a dungeon. The power of its core would attract other monsters, and once its domain was fully established, they would begin to spawn. Even the weak ones would be a danger to Hump and Bud alone, so as they rode, he made a point of getting to know their travelling companions.

The soldiers—or not soldiers, as it turned out—were easy company.

“Former soldiers,” Gerard had said. “We all served along the east border not too long ago, but when our contracts were up, we left to join the Company of Brothers. There’s no business in public service. All the good soldiers end up going mercenary.”

And from the look of them, it was easy to see where they fell on that scale. They rode with disciplined casualness, ever watchful of the terrain around them, monitoring the land for threats. They could be counted on, at least until they found the dungeon core. Past experiences proved to Hump that diplomacy mostly broke down at that point. A dungeon core alone held great value, but combined with the king’s bounty, it was a small fortune.

The northmen proved more of a challenge. They were distrusting to say the least, and Hump managed to only glean their names. Koll and Osaap were the two men, and it was Sanya that had caught him staring earlier. She looked just as tough as the two men, and it seemed easier to imagine her tearing his head off than anything else. Celaine though, she seemed graceful and kind. She rode a chestnut mare, moving through the hills and mountains as if it were her home, and beneath the warm sun and gentle wind, Hump almost felt as if they welcomed her.

Not that Hump had worked up the courage to speak with her or Vamir yet. The two of them rode at the front of the group, just behind Norwin. They were a party of two, and only the insane would enter a dungeon with so few. There was still a chance to win them over, and if Vamir’s presence was anything to go by, Hump thought they could make for valuable allies.

“This is the life, huh,” Bud said. They were riding at the back of the group. Mountains loomed up around them, speckled with trees and long grass. “Roaming about the lands, protecting the weak from evil, facing down monsters.”

Hump glanced at him, amused. “Did something happen while I was taking a leak?”

Bud rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“You make it sound so romantic.” Hump laughed, earning a frown from Bud.

“You’ve done this a lot, have you?”

“Enough to know it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. This is dangerous, dirty work. Bards tend to leave that part out of their tales. They’ll spout whatever crap they can to earn a few free beers at the tavern.”

“Do heroic deeds not deserve as much?” Bud asked.

“It doesn’t seem so heroic once the killing starts,” Hump said. “There’s nothing romantic about what we’re doing. It’s blood and gore and pain. Even monsters scream. You need to understand this won’t be like the stories. Otherwise, when the action starts, someone’s going to get hurt. There’s a good chance it will be me.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Bud said seriously. “I understand that. But I also understand the necessity of what we are doing.”

“Fair enough,” Hump said. “I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea. About the job, or about me.”

Bud arched an eyebrow. “What about you?”

Hump shrugged. “I’m no knight. I go where the coin takes me as my master did before me. Sometimes it’s a dungeon, sometimes a bounty, or sometimes it’s a pointless war between lords.”

“You’d fight for a cause you didn’t believe in?”

“Belief doesn’t pay,” Hump said. “Have you ever been starving?”

Bud straightened. Asoltef remained unphased by his rider’s sudden movement, plodding along beneath him. “Of course.”

Hump shot him an impatient look and shook his head. “Not waiting for your fancy dinner starving. I mean really starving. So hungry it’s like your stomach’s gnawing on itself. Days without food.”

“Oh. Then no, I haven’t.”

“I have,” Hump said quietly. “Not starving is a cause I can get behind, no matter who’s paying.”

“Even if the cause is evil?”

Hump shrugged. As an apprentice, it had been his role to maintain his master’s gear, to support him with spells and potions, and at times to follow him into battle. They’d fought over petty land disputes. He’d killed bandits. He’d seen robbers executed when they refused to surrender; desperate people just trying to survive. Where was the line drawn?

“Well, I wouldn’t,” Bud said, with all the conviction of a noble who had never experienced hardship. “I have vowed to protect those that can’t protect themselves, to help the needy, defend the innocent. There’s nothing that will make me break that vow.”

Hump believed him. There was a reason Kelisia selected Bud to be her knight. He was different from the rest of them, he was something more. Righteous. “That’s commendable of you.” Hump grinned. “But I bet I’ve saved more maidens than you.”

Bud looked at him inquisitively. “How many?”

“Well… One, I suppose. But I still bet that’s more than you!”

Bud laughed. “You have me there. I’ve yet to find a maiden in need of my services.” He scratched his chin. “I did once stop a drunk man’s advances upon one of my sister knights, though that was more for his sake than hers.”

Hump snorted.

“How about you?” Bud asked. “Who was this damsel in distress?”

“She was a merchant girl from Lorsta,” Hump said, a small smile on his lips. “We were part of a caravan escort through the Wester Forest. Her father led the convoy. This must have been three years ago now; I was thirteen at the time.”

“What happened?”

“We were ambushed. The typical sort; bandits had chopped down a tree across the road. We knew what was coming the moment it happened, but they had numbers on their side. The girl was carried off into the wood during the battle. The old man… my master told me to wait in the wagon, but when I saw her being taken, I couldn’t sit still. Everyone else was fighting, there was nobody but me left to help her. Long story short, I chased them through the wood and caught the man before he could hurt her.” Hump pulled up the bottom of his shirt to show a long, jagged scar that stretched from his side to a little past his belly button. “Got this in the process.”

Bud winced. “Looks painful.”

“It was a hair’s breadth from opening me up completely. Worth it though. Rescuing a girl is one thing, but there’s nothing they like more than a man injured in the line of duty.” Hump grinned. “It was a mission to be remembered.”

Bud laughed. “If that’s not romantic, I don’t know what is. You’re a better man than you think, Hump.”

“I did what anyone would do.”

“Give yourself some credit, even fully grown men waver in the face of death. You risked your life for her.”

“When you put it like that, it’s hard to argue.”

“You’ll need some of that bravery if you’re to make it past Vamir.” Bud emphasised his point with a grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come now! I may be new at this whole dungeon thing, but I’m not an idiot. You know what I mean.”

Hump looked at him sharply. “What makes you think I’m even interested?”

Bud laughed. “We’re in the most amazing place I’ve ever seen, yet you’ve spent most of the day staring after her.”

Hump felt blood rise to his cheeks and spurred Prancer forward. “It might look nice now, but there’s a dungeon nearby. Every magical creature for a hundred miles will be drawn to its presence, so keep your eyes peeled.”

“You’re changing the subject,” Bud said.

“I wasn’t staring,” Hump grumbled. “Just wondering why she’s here. That’s all.”

Bud snorted. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

“Like it matters anyway.” Hump sighed. “I’m a hedge wizard. The two of them likely have more gold than I have copper. I haven’t got a chance in hell. You’re a knight. A Chosen. You’d have better luck than me.”

Bud shook his head slowly.

Hump scowled. “Don’t tell me you’re not interested.”

Bud shrugged, chainmail clinking. “I have a fiancée.”

Hump raised an eyebrow. “Huh. Lucky you.”

“Not so lucky. I’ve never met her. My father arranged it.”

“Then why are you here?” Hump asked. He turned around when Bud didn’t answer to find his friend staring at the ground. “That’s why you’re here.”

“The announcement was the day I left. I don’t even know her name yet. How was I supposed to marry her? And I’m too young! I’ve trained all my life to be a knight, and the moment I’m strong enough to actually uphold my vows, they want to marry me off and hide me away, never to leave the castle walls.”

Hump tried to hold it in, but the laugh slipped out.

“What?” Bud asked, taken aback. “I’m serious.”

“Nothing,” Hump said. “You just really are a lordling. I can understand though. The rich have their shackles just like the rest of us. It’s hard to put a price on freedom.”

“Exactly. It’s not a big ask to know the woman I’m to marry.”

“Still,” Hump said absently, “I’d like a castle.”

“They’re not as glamorous as they seem. They’re stone-cold—literally—and the halls are so long there’s always a draft. It takes twenty minutes to get anywhere, and they’re so full of dust you wouldn’t believe it.”

“I wouldn’t live in it,” Hump said. “I’d just like to point at it and tell people it was mine.”

Bud stared at him for a long moment. “But of course. How didn’t I think of that? All this time and I’d yet to realise the purpose of a castle. I’ve been living in it like an idiot!”

“I’m a beacon of enlightenment,” Hump said. “Stick around a while longer and you’ll be up to your ears in genius.”

For once, it seemed the gods had favoured Hump. There was no rain during the long day’s ride, and according to Norwin, they were on course to reach the dungeon by tomorrow afternoon. With any luck, those that had arrived early would have already made good progress clearing out the outer defences.

At least that was what he thought.

They found the bodies late afternoon, in the shadows of the setting sun. Four of them, as far as Hump could see.

“God’s, what happened to them?” Bud asked quietly.

Hump dismounted from Prancer and walked closer.

“What are you doing?” Sanya asked.

“I’m a wizard,” Hump said. “I’m investigating.”

There was something to the air around the corpses that sent shivers down Hump’s spine, and it wasn’t just the smell. He knelt beside the closest body—a man, from the size of him, though there wasn’t enough left of his face to tell for sure. Whatever killed him had torn him open; now bones pierced out through blood, flesh, and leather. Hump held back the urge to vomit. He felt light in the head. He’d seen death, he’d seen corpses that should have been buried days earlier, but this was something else.

There was nothing Hump took for a bite wound—that put wolves and the usual sorts out of the question. The flesh almost seemed blackened at points, burnt or rotted off, but it was hard to say. Could people have done this? They’d have had to be sick to their souls.

From what was left of their equipment, Hump took them to be fighters of some sort, though the thick gambesons and leather gear could mean they were anything from bandits to mercenaries. Their weapons lay on the ground nearby—they’d died fighting at least.

That doesn’t bode well for us, Hump thought. Again, the shiver slid down his spine. He glanced around at their surroundings. Trees spotted the hillside, but the area was fairly open. It likely wasn’t an ambush.

“Did you find something?” It was Celaine. She’d dismounted and approached to stand nearby without him noticing.

Hump frowned and shook his head. “Nothing useful. Just that they died painfully.”

“I could have told you that from over here, boy,” Sanya said. She had a slight accent, rolling her tongue as she spoke.

“Better to check and make sure,” Gerard said in his defence. “Any information we get here might keep us from sharing a fate like theirs.”

“Give me a minute,” Hump said. He pulled out his spellbook and opened it, immediately finding the page he was looking for. Or rather, it was as if the page found him. A useful feature at a time like this, but it made for difficult reading when he simply wanted to browse through the pages at night.

SPELLBOOK

Magic Eye

Enhancement | Ritual | Tier 1 | Range: Line of Sight

Description

Enhance one’s perception to see representations of magic in the physical world.

Notes

y.889 – Starris – Magic detection is expensive. It cost me an arm and a leg to get this spell. Not mine, fortunately, but I think the point stands! Best not to use with alcohol or other, erm, compounds, it can lead to a nasty trip.

There was a spell formation below, along with an incantation. Hump opened his pouch and pulled out a few different herbs to form a bundle in his hands. Envisioning the channels of the formation in his mind, he muttered the incantation, and the end of the bundle burst into flame. It burnt nauseatingly strong, and Hump breathed in the smoke, feeling himself grow dizzy as he did. As his mind became clouded, he reached out a hand to touch one of the more intact parts of the corpse.

Ice shot through his hand. He pulled it back, sobering immediately. “Death magic.”

The corpse’s eyes opened, blood-red and hungry.

It lunged at him, a frenzied blur, screeching like a demon straight out of hell.

SEVEN

BONEFIEND

There were certain aspects of being an adventurer, official or not, that one could never get used to. Corpses coming to life in a wild frenzy was one of them.

Hump sprung back in a desperate panic, barely avoiding the undead’s claws. His foot slipped in the wet mud, sending him tumbling onto his back. The impact knocked his staff from his hand. Cold, wet mud coated him. But it was the mud that saved him. As the undead tried to pounce, its foot sunk into the earth and prevented it from pursuing him. Frantically, he searched the ground for his staff with his hand.

The creature let loose another shriek, lunging at Hump again. Hump’s eyes went wide as it fought to pull free of the ground. Its mouth bit at the air as if it couldn’t wait to taste him, bloody red saliva stained its lips and chin.

In a panic, Hump tossed the still smouldering bundle of herbs. It struck the creature square in the face and bounced off harmlessly.

For a moment, the creature stilled, red eyes gleaming.

Bad idea! Hump thought. Its eyes darkened. Very bad idea!

Then it came for him, fast and hungry, clawing its way from the dirt with so much force its foot came out broken and torn. Hump scampered back on all fours, fear and adrenaline driving him to move.

“Bonefiend!” Somebody shouted behind him.

Hump’s arm slipped out from underneath him, and he slumped to the mud. It was on him before he could blink. Teeth and blood and rot. A smell so putrid he’d have gagged if not for death being mere moments away.

The tip of a dagger pierced out of its left eye socket. Blood oozed from the wound like rotten sludge, more brown than red. Hump froze in confused horror. The bonefiend writhed and gurgled, then toppled onto him. He caught it with his hands, keeping his head as far from it as he could as he tossed it to the ground beside him.

He lay there gasping, his heart beating like drums, so hard it was all he could hear. Above him, Celaine stared at the corpse with a frown. Hump half expected it to come at him again. It didn’t move. It was on its front, Celaine’s dagger still buried into the back of its skull.

“Are you okay?” She held out a hand, then pulled back as she noticed the blood that covered it. She didn’t hide her disgust well.

“Thank—” Hump stopped. Behind Celaine, another corpse sprung to life, rising to its feet and racing toward her.

There was no time for finesse. Hump threw himself forward onto his stomach, grabbing his staff from the ground where he’d dropped it. Mud caked his front, but he barely noticed, his focus solely on the bonefiend. He took aim just as it collided with Celaine. In a frantic surge of focused will, Hump shouted, “Blast!” A hum of magic burst from his body, rushing up his arms, through his hands, and into his staff. Blue light exploded from it. The wind stirred around him, rustling his hair. Then the air boomed.

The bonefiend was blown backward by the blast. It hit the ground with the sound of crumpling bone and armour, rolling like a ragdoll. Koll, the northman, rode for it as it struggled to rise and slammed his axe down into the creature’s head, smashing through bone and brain.

Around Hump, the others drew their weapons with a ring of steel and rasping leather sheaths, calling out orders and targets.

Bud was already at his side, sword in hand. He chanted a prayer under his breath as he approached one of the remaining bonefiend. The creature came at him in a wild charge. There was less blood on this one, the bones protruding from its body like spikes, piercing through skin and armour.

Bud remained calm. He came to a stop before it, sword outstretched at his side, feet spread a shoulder-width apart like a soldier performing a drill, still chanting his prayer. Then, just as the creature stepped into range, his blade erupted in blue flame. Cold, icy power radiated from it, its bite reaching Hump even a few paces away. In a single, elegant sweep, Bud sliced its skull in half. A crust of ice formed over the wound as it fell apart. There was no blood, no splatter. It simply dropped, crumbling to the ground. The two parts of its face frozen in a final horrific snarl.

Bud surveyed the battlefield before returning his sword to its sheath. The flame died as it slotted inside. He hurried over to Hump, his armour chinking as he moved, and offered his hand. “You okay?”

“Just about,” Hump said, taking it gratefully. He was all but hauled to his feet.

Gerard had slain the final bonefiend and was issuing orders to his party of soldiers. They split up, securing high grounds around the hilltop and monitoring the nearby trees for any more threats. This close to a dungeon, there was no telling what the blood and cries of these fallen might bring.

Vamir was still atop his horse. He’d drawn no weapon, let alone moved. Instead, he stared at the corpses with a frown. Hump felt himself drawn to something as he watched him. A touch of magic around the man’s face, nearly undetectable if not for the fading influence of the magical herbs that still coursed through Hump’s body. There was something there. He was certain of it. If he could just get closer, he could…

Vamir’s eyes fell on him. Hump couldn’t turn away. A sharp chill ran through him, colder even than Bud’s Frostfire. Goosebumps prickled his skin. This man was dangerous; he felt that fact to his core.

“Thanks for your help,” Celaine said. Her words freed him from whatever had gripped him in place, snapping him from his thoughts. She’d stepped closer, casting a sullen grimace at the slender dagger, stained in undead gore, before pulling it free of the creature’s skull.

Hump cast one last glance at Vamir, but the tall man’s attention had already returned to the corpses. Turning back to Celaine, Hump smiled grimly. “I think I should be thanking you. I thought I was done for.”

Celaine waved a hand and shook her head. “If I didn’t take it out, your friend would have.” She nodded toward Bud. “He was off his horse before I’d even reacted.”

Hump grinned at his friend. “My knight in shining armour.”

Bud snorted. “About time you realise it. No more calling me Sir Rusty.”

Celaine chuckled, looking Hump up and down. “If he’s Sir Rusty, what would that make you? The Mud Wizard?”

Hump glanced at his clothes and beheld a bog resembling a human shape. He sighed and glanced at the sky. Why was everything always wet? “I hate rain. I hate rain so much.”

“There’s got to be a stream around here somewhere,” Bud said. “Don’t worry.”

“Bloody brilliant,” Hump grumbled. “My first day out of the rain and I’m still soaked to the bone. You believe the Wizard’s Law now?”

Bud shrugged. “Could be worse.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“You could have been munched on by this thing,” Bud said.

Hump stared down at the bonefiend. He’d never seen one before. Undead were common in dungeons. Mostly the usual array of skeletons and zombies. Occasionally something scarier would come up like a lich, but not in the type of dungeons Hump would ever go to. Powerful undead were reserved for parties of Chosen or the few practitioners that had reached silver rank in the Adventurer’s Guild. Not even his master had ever dared to mess with them.

“There’s no sign of any more of them,” Gerard said. He was riding back from the hilltop nearby, where two of the other soldiers kept watch. “We should move away from here before anything else turns up.”

“Who put you in charge?” Koll growled. The northman was taller than anyone else there, even Bud.

Gerard blinked at him. “It’s just a suggestion. I’d be open to alternatives.”

“Relax, Koll,” Sanya growled. “He’s right. We shouldn’t stay here.”

Koll spat on the ground and gave Gerard a glare, then left toward the wood. Sanya nodded for Osaap to follow, and the second man left without complaint.

“What’s his problem?” Gerard asked.

“None of your business,” Sanya said. She nodded toward the corpses. “You called them bonefiends. You’ve seen them before?”

“Once,” Gerard said. “There was a necromancer in Dunsfield a few years back. Half the town had disappeared in just a few nights. By the time anyone found his lair, most of them were turned into these things.” He looked at Hump. “What do you make of them, Wizard?”

“There’s more death magic in them than your typical undead,” Hump said. “It would have had to be a pretty powerful necromancer. This is beyond most.”

“What’s so special about them?” Celaine asked. “They didn’t seem particularly strong.”

Hump knelt beside the bonefiend that had attacked him. He scrunched his nose, trying not to grow nauseated from the smell, and prayed to whatever god would listen that it wouldn’t jump up at him again.

“Based on how much magic is in them, I imagine they last longer.” Hump held out a hand to Celaine. “Here, lend me your knife.”

“Can’t you use yours?” she asked.

“Yours is already covered in undead goop.”

She sighed, handing it to him anyway, bloodied hilt first. “What are you doing?”

“Investigating,” Hump said, cutting open the creature’s chest just above its heart. Inside, its heart had partially crystallised and still shone with a faint purple glow. “It’s a partial heartstone. Something like this takes a lot of time and effort. And the way their bone structure has been manipulated is no easy feat either, even on corpses.”

He cut out the heartstone fragment, too small and unformed to be worth anything, and handed the knife back to Celaine.

She scrunched her nose. “Thanks…”

“You really think we might be dealing with a necromancer?” Gerard asked.

“It couldn’t be,” Norwin cut in. “No undead have been seen at the dungeon. Just kobolds.”

“Well, death magic like this doesn’t just manifest,” Hump said, studying the heartstone. The pale purple was already fading from the stone as the essence inside dissipated, the manifested heartstone incomparable to that of a real monster. “Something must have caused it. If not the dungeon, perhaps there’s something else roaming these mountains.”

“What do you think, Vamir?” Gerard asked.

“It’s been a while since these creatures were changed,” Vamir said. Hump searched the man for signs of magic once more but sensed nothing. “Death magic would keep them from rotting if the caster was nearby, and they would not have awoken so slowly. I suspect they are merely remnants.”

“Of what?” Hump asked. “Why would anything be out here if not for the dungeon?”

“Perhaps a necromancer has come to claim the dungeon core for themselves,” Bud suggested.

“Surely somebody would have noticed a necromancer clearing the dungeon alongside them,” Hump said. “Let alone with bonefiends at their side.”

“Either way, this is not the place to talk,” Gerard said. “I’ll gather my men. We need to be away from here quickly if we’re to find somewhere safe to camp tonight.” He looked at Sanya. “Are you in agreement?”

She gave a tight, begrudging nod. “I’ll collect the boys.”

“We had best get mounted too,” Bud said.

Hump searched Celaine’s face for that strange shimmer he’d seen around Vamir, but he saw nothing. She had pretty eyes though, green and clear as a forest pool.

“What?” Celaine asked bluntly.

Hump smiled. “Nothing. I was wondering if you and Vamir were related. I thought he might be your dad.”

Now Celaine really laughed. “No, he’s not, you mud-headed idiot!”

“Boyfriend then?” Hump asked.

“Gods no. What’s with the questions?” She nodded to Bud. “Is he your boyfriend?”

Hump flushed. “What? No, of course not.” He glanced at Bud, who was shaking his head quickly. “I don’t swing that way. And he has a fiancée.”

Bud nodded his agreement.

“Huh.” She looked between them both, then shrugged. A smug smile touched her lips. “Could have fooled me.”

EIGHT

DUNGEON ENCAMPMENT

Being the sole spellcaster of a group had its benefits. Sure, Hump wasn’t a Chosen, but anyone that knew a thing about travelling in monster-infested areas understood you didn’t have to be. So, while everyone laboured about camp and handed out watch shifts for the night, Hump nestled up against a log beside the fire, stretched his legs, and soaked in all the warmth he could. All he’d had to do was use Hidden Fire to keep the camp cloaked and be ready to light the place up if they came under attack. Simple. Sure, he was a bit chilly after using so much magic—the fall to the mud hadn’t helped with that—but at least he was special.

It was a nervous night, but Hump was long since used to those. They’d been woken by howls—wolves if they were lucky, blood wolves if not. Knowing his luck, Hump was betting the latter. They left at first light. Nobody wanted to linger any longer than they had to, not this close to the dungeon, and not with the threat of undead along the trail.

They rode in a tight formation this time, with Hump positioned at the centre along with Norwin, and the shield-bearing soldiers around them. Between the northmen, soldiers, and Celaine, they had a team of scouts that could spot an ambush from any of the weaker monsters that might be lurking in the nearby hills. Though a chill ran down Hump’s spine whenever he thought of the howls. No number of scouts would save them from a pack of blood wolves. And if it were something else… well, Hump had seen even seasoned adventurers killed in something as simple as a goblin ambush, and one too many wizards. It only took one unlucky arrow to end a life, whether ordinary human, practitioner, or Chosen.

He scanned the rocky slopes carefully. Norwin kept them in the open grass hills as much as he could, but the lands were littered with sections of woodland and rocky terrain that made perfect spots for an ambush. Each time, they were forced to stop and send out their scouts.

“You alright?” Bud asked. “You look nervous.”

“This is a bad place to be caught in the open,” Hump said. “My master was shot in a place like this. Keep your eyes peeled.”

Bud nodded. “I had an uncle that died in an ambush on the road. He was on his way back from Varnal. He and six other Chosen knights were murdered.”

Hump arched an eyebrow. “It would take a powerful force to take down seven knights. What was it?”

Bud shrugged. “We don’t know. I was still a boy at the time. My father suspected it was an assassination by one of the nobles at court, but there wasn’t enough evidence. All they found was a manmade arrow.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I…” Hump paused, squinting as he saw movement in the distant treeline.

Shar broke out of the treeline far ahead of them on the trail, riding at a gallop. The soldier came to a stop before them. “You’re going to want to see this,” she said.

“Enemies?” Gerard asked.

“No. A fire, and a big one at that.”

“Impossible,” Norwin said. “Someone would have seen it! And there’s been storms; nothing could have caught.”

“See for yourself,” Shar said.

She led them through thick trees, and it wasn’t long before they reached it. An entire section of woodland had been reduced to blackened stumps and charcoal, the ground as black as soot and shifted like fine powder beneath the horse hooves. There was no smoke, not even a scent of it.

“Now isn’t that interesting,” Vamir said. “When did you last come this way, Norwin?”

“Before the storms,” Norwin stammered. “It couldn’t have been more than a few weeks. This area floods, you see, so it’s faster to go around when it rains.”

“Lightning maybe?” Bud asked.

“Surely not,” Norwin said. “Not with the amount of rain we had.” He grabbed a hanging branch of one of the nearby trees that had escaped the fire’s range, wiping his hand along the leaves. “It’s soaking wet. Even if a single tree caught, the rest of the woodland wouldn’t.”

“Magic then,” Gerard said.

Suddenly, Hump felt all eyes turn on him. With considered precision, he stroked his chin to look as thoughtful as he could, though he lacked the beard to pull it off properly. Even so, a wizard must never appear confused, even when completely and utterly clueless.

Still, there was something about the place. It made his skin tingle. Was that residual magic, or just his nerves?

“Well, go on, boy,” Vamir said. “There’s only so much suspense we can take.”

Hump glowered at the man, then shrugged. “It could have been magic, but a Chosen powerful enough to cause all this shouldn’t be at a low-level dungeon. We’d have heard of them passing through.”

“Lantheer of the Silver Spears is here,” Sanya said. “He’d have the power to do this.”

Hump recognised the name. A Chosen fire sorcerer, well-known amongst bronze rankers. “Does he have a reason to burn down a forest?”

“Not that I know of,” Gerard said.

“We would still have seen the smoke!” Norwin insisted.

Hump glanced up at the sky. “The rain could have hidden it.”

“Whatever happened, the way is clear now,” Gerard said. “We should keep moving. If Chosen have arrived, it won’t be long before there’s nothing left for the rest of us.”

“We can’t have that,” Vamir said. “Come, Celaine.” He kicked his horse onward, Norwin hurrying to follow and the soldiers behind them.

“Is it safe, Wizard?” Sanya asked.

Hump glanced at her. Both of her men waited patiently for his answer. “Erm. Yeah, it should be. I’d guess it was a few days ago at least. I don’t sense any essence remaining.”

“Good,” she said. Her gaze followed the rest of the group before she kicked her horse into motion. She glanced back and said, “Be careful of Vamir. Something doesn’t smell right about him.”

Hump watched them join the rest of the group with a frown.

“That’s foreboding,” Bud said once it was just the two of them.

“Mhm,” Hump said. “I think she’s right though. I noticed something yesterday when I was using Magic Eye. There was magic on him.”

“She can smell magic?” Bud asked, shocked.

“What? No! Of course not. You can’t smell magic.” Hump paused. “At least, I don’t think you can. Doesn’t mean there isn’t something else off about him. He’s probably just got an artifact or something.”

“That can’t be uncommon,” Bud said. “Half the people I know have artifacts.”

Hump looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“What?” Bud asked.

“That is uncommon, you posh prick!” Hump said. “My staff and spellbook have been passed down for generations and are more valuable than everything else I own combined. And I’m a wizard. Most of this lot won’t be so lucky.”

Bud frowned. “But without artifacts, does that mean you don’t have hot water?”

Hump rolled his eyes. “Gods, we really are from different crowds. Anyway, I get the feeling Vamir is hiding something. He noticed me looking.”

“I’m not surprised,” Bud said. “He’s strong. He hides it well, but I can tell.”

“I get that feeling too. Could you take him?”

Bud looked at him in confusion. “They’re our allies.”

“You’d be surprised how quickly that can change. If it did, could you take him?”

Bud gave it some thought. “He’d probably trounce me. And Celaine’s no pushover. She handled herself well with the bonefiends.”

“Yeah,” Hump said grimly. “Raises the question, why are they here?”

Bud glanced at Hump and narrowed his eyes. “Is this about Celaine?”

“No… I’m just being cautious. You were the one that brought her up in the first place.”

Bud grinned. “Are you usually this curious about other people’s business?”

“They’re not usually this weird! I don’t like weird. Weird is dangerous. Weird makes me think we might be walking into trouble and that we should take Sanya’s warning seriously.”

“I’ll keep it under advisement,” Bud said. “‘Don’t cause problems with our ally,’ I should be able to remember that.”

Hump glared at him. “You better. I don’t want your new fiancée meeting you in pieces.”

Bud laughed. “She wouldn’t recognise me either way.”

“Come on. Gerard has a point. We better get there soon or we might really miss out on anything. Wouldn’t that be anticlimactic?”

Bud let out a satisfied sigh. “I don’t know. I get the feeling this is going to be an even better adventure than I’d hoped!”

“You’ve used the ‘H’ word. Nice job.”

“What? Hope?”

“Don’t say it again!” Hump snapped, glancing nervously at the sky. “The Wizard’s Curse is going to come down on us like dragon fire now.”

Bud snorted. “You’re an odd fellow, my friend. An odd fellow…”

“You’ll see! Take my word for it: when all this is over, you’ll never say it again.”

* * *

There was no missing the dungeon. Even from a distance, the great, black pit of an entrance held an ominous aura. It was set in the face of a horseshoe-shaped crag that jutted into the sky, towering over the surrounding hills. An encampment was set up at the base, defended by a series of spiked barricades and makeshift wooden walls blocking the path from the dungeon’s entrance. Along them, dungeoneers stood guard.

On this side of the walls, a field of tents was spread out across the flat ground beneath the crag. Hundreds of people, all there to compete for the prize. A makeshift town of monster hunters, fortune seekers, and all those that supplied them.

“They don’t look pleased to see us,” Bud said as they approached.

There was a quiet murmur over the camp. In the distance, a hammer rang out against steel.

“How would you feel if you’d spent a week clearing the dungeon only for somebody else to show up and steal the prize?” Hump said. “We’re competition. You won’t find much in the way of camaraderie amongst this lot.”

“We’re all on the same side in the end though, right?” Bud said. “Us against the monsters.”

Hump snorted. “People have killed for a lot less than a dungeon core. Plenty of guilds make their earnings snagging dungeon cores and other loot away from smaller folk like us.” He could see some of their flags flying over a number of the tents. One stood out: a black flag with a silver spear at its centre. “Have you heard of the Silver Spears?”

“Just that they’re vampire hunters,” Bud said. “I hadn’t heard of that Lantheer fellow.”

“My master had a dungeon core stolen by a party of them.” He caught the eye of one of the men and turned away. “Best not to get on their bad side. They’ve been known to cause trouble.”

Two men hurried by, carrying a stretcher with a woman on top. There was mud and blood on her face, and her arm was gone at the elbow.

Dead.

Bud stared after her with a pale face.

“Get used to it,” Hump said, watching them go. They were taking her to a large tent with the Lady Light’s sigil hanging above it—a pair of wings with a sceptre through the centre. “With any luck, a party might have some free slots for us to fill.”

Norwin led them to another of the larger tents, this one set toward the back of the encampment with a sign that read Field Station hung over the entrance. Inside were staff seated at tables, along with merchant stands providing maps, dungeon info, as well as various other tidbits and necessities. It was here that the dungeon was overseen, and the wills were kept, not that Hump had anyone to leave his things to.

A handful of traders and their wagons were stationed outside, stacked with food and goods for the rest of the encampment. Hump turned his nose up at the prices. Double what they’d have paid in Bledsbury, and most of the food was far from fresh.

“This is where I leave you,” Norwin said. “Good hunting to all of you. May the gods be with you.”

Vamir flipped him another silver coin. “A pleasure, my good man.”

“Thank you, milord,” Norwin said with a greedy smile. His eyes turned to Gerard, who snorted.

“Not all of us are made of coin,” he said.

“I wasn’t—”

“Course you weren’t,” Gerard grunted. He turned to the rest of them. “I’ll report our encounter on the road to the dungeon Overseer. I’m sure he’ll be interested to know there are unusual undead about. Vamir, Celaine, I’d wish you luck, but I don’t imagine you’ll need it.”

“And to you as well.” Vamir smiled. “You were fine company.”

Gerard nodded to Sanya and the northmen, then turned to Hump and Bud. “Seek me out if you find yourself in trouble. I won’t promise you aid, but I’ll do what I can.”

Hump shook his hand. “Same to you.” He appreciated the gesture, though he didn’t appreciate the undertone—he was a hedge wizard now. No longer an apprentice, no longer a child. He didn’t need to be taken care of.

They said their goodbyes, and as they were leaving, Vamir called Hump over.

“Wizard, speak to me for a moment.”

Hump did nothing to hide his suspicion.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I don’t bite,” Vamir said, gesturing him over with a hand. “Well, not right now at least.”

“Brilliant!” Hump and Bud stopped before him. “I’m glad you cleared that up. I always jump to such silly conclusions.”

Vamir beamed, his lips going just a little too far into the corners. “Always good to have a sense of humour in our line of work. Things can get dark far too quickly without one, don’t you agree?”

“I suppose,” Hump said hesitantly.

“What are your plans now?” Vamir continued.

Hump shrugged. “The usual. If we find a party that will take us, that’s great. If not, Bud and I can get by on our own.”

“Come now, Hump! At least be a little ambitious. Boys your age should be shooting for the prize, not hoping for scraps. Wouldn’t you say so, Celaine?”

“I guess…” she said, watching Vamir suspiciously.

“Exactly! Now, what if I were to offer you an opportunity?” Vamir’s grin widened. “A chance to rise.”

“Does he sound like he’s inviting us to his party?” Hump whispered to Bud.

Bud nodded. “In an extremely roundabout way, I’d say so.”

Vamir’s face turned dark. “Well, there you go ruining the drama. What do you say?”

“What are you doing?” Celaine hissed before they could answer.

Vamir turned to her. “Seizing an opportunity.”

“For what?”

“Did you forget you were a heartbeat away from eating mud yesterday while you stood around gawking?” Vamir asked.

“I saved him first! And you were right there on your horse!”

He waved away her comment and shook his head. “Exactly. It’s a match made by the Mother herself. We need a party if we’re to head into the dungeon, and this is a good opportunity for you to practice your teamwork with people your own age.”

“Hardly.” She glowered at him, but Vamir ignored her.

“What do you say then, boys?” Vamir said. “Fancy a run for the big shots?”

Hump paused. “Are you her master?”

“Yes—”

“Teacher,” Celaine interrupted. “And a bad one at that. Do yourselves a favour and get away while you can.”

Vamir clutched a hand to his chest, appearing wounded. “Children can be so cruel.”

Hump glanced at Bud. “What do you think?”

Bud shrugged. “We know he’s strong. Do we have other options?”

“There’s probably a few parties that are looking for replacement members. Though if they’ve already lost one party member, it’s not exactly an encouraging sign.”

“Then we stay?”

Hump scratched his head. He considered Sanya’s warning, but no matter who they partied up with, there would still be risk involved. At least he somewhat knew Vamir, he wasn’t going to betray them for a bit of coin, and the man made a convincing argument. When it came to opportunities, it wouldn’t get better. With Bud and Vamir in his party, they could handle whatever the dungeon threw at them. Hump noted the man’s well-tailored armour, his fine sword and bow—he was wealthy too. “Sure. We’re in.”

“Wonderful! Now go and set up my tent.” He clapped his hands. “On the double!”

Hump faced him with his most unenthusiastic look. “I didn’t mean we’d sign up as your lackeys.”

“Forget your pride, boy. You might learn something.”

Hump glanced at Celaine. She glared daggers back. No hint of support for one choice or the other. He thought about what Bud had said about the man’s strength, about how he’d seen him looking with his Magic Eye. Vamir was no ordinary adventurer.

“I need to see if the field station has any information.” He pointed to the tent. “We need maps and details on what’s been found so far.”

“Tent first. Details later.” He withdrew two silvers from his purse and flipped one to him and one to Bud. “A silver each for your troubles!”

Hump caught his and frowned. That was a good amount of coin to be handing out so freely. He paid well, even if everything else about him seemed like an arse, and truth be told, he needed the money right now. A part of him wanted to jump ship already, but if Vamir was as strong as he looked, this really might be an opportunity he couldn’t miss. He let loose a long sigh, and with it tucked away his pride. “Just this one time. Don’t get used to it.”

“Right back at you,” he quipped.

NINE

BOILING POTS

Hump glowered at his map. They were lost. There was no other way to put it, no matter what Vamir said. The man had led them off the beaten path, away from the tunnels already cleared, and away from reinforcements. The field station’s maps mostly covered the major tunnels of the dungeon. Where they were now was anyone’s guess.

The dungeon was like an ant nest. Dozens of connecting tunnels and chambers bored into the crag, shaped by the magic of the dungeon core and whatever god-forsaken will was behind it. The map cost Hump ten coppers, plus one more for the shopkeeper to spill the recent gossip. So far, the kobolds had been pushed back toward their inner chambers, but the pests were collapsing tunnels as they went. Progress was slow, loot was infrequent, and the kobolds left a score of deadly traps in their wake. All in all, it made for high tensions amongst the dungeoneers. There was something about spike pits and hidden wall rooms that just didn’t inspire a cheerful mood.

“No one wants to be that guy,” Hump explained to Bud.

“What guy?”

“The one that’s too excited for a fight and rushes on in, only to step on a spikey stick some gangly midget of a creature spent five minutes setting up.”

Vamir had decided on this brilliant plan of delving into a series of side tunnels in the hopes of getting lucky. If they were attacked or injured, they were beyond the earshot of anyone that might help them. The darkness was suffocating. It closed in on them from all sides, only pushed back by the light of Hump’s staff.

“This map’s about as much use as a blank piece of paper.” Hump shoved it inside his pack. He withdrew his glowchalk once more, marking the wall with an arrow so they could find their way back up. It shone faintly in the dark.

There was an eerie silence, broken by distant echoes of wind and gods know what else. Hump shivered. Down in the dungeons, sounds warped and changed through their echoes, like a musician’s song travelling the complex valves of some loathsome instrument. Sometimes something as simple as dripping water might sound like the hums of a ghost if it travelled far enough. Or vice versa, Hump thought, eyeing a suspicious looking leak in the ceiling.

They were in a narrow tunnel, one of many that formed a web through the dungeon, sloping down into its depths. A constant hum of dungeon essence slithered across Hump’s skin like an irritating wind, covering him in goosebumps. The unnatural essence made him feel like they were being watched, but all he could see beyond the light of his spell was darkness, so complete, it was as if the world fell away at its edge.

Even for Hump, these tunnels were too small to move comfortably. At least he didn’t have it as bad as Bud. The poor knight had to keep his head ducked down the entire time, yet he hadn’t uttered a single complaint. Just another thing to give them a disadvantage. Kobolds thrived in tight spaces and darkness. They were weak, cowardly creatures, but given time to prepare, they could create devastating ambushes and traps. This was their territory, enabling them to choose to fight on their terms. In Hump’s experience, that choice was never fair.

“I told you not to bother,” Vamir said.

Hump let out a sigh. “And I told you this is a dungeon. Anyone with a bit of common sense knows not to go wandering about on their own without a decent map of the area.”

Vamir looked at Bud. “Are all the boys your age like this, or does he just have the hump?” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps that’s where the saying comes from. Hump the grump.”

“I find it reassuring that he’s got a strategy for dungeon exploring,” Bud said. “He’s prepared. That’s respectable.”

They reached another tunnel, a dark hole in the left wall that delved deeper into the crag. Celaine peeked her head around and peered ahead, while Hump held his staff out to illuminate the tunnel.

Once they’d passed it, Vamir turned to Hump. “We’ll be fine, kid. I get it. You want to do things by the book. But they’ve been clearing the upper levels for the better part of a week. There won’t be a scrap of loot left.”

Hump was forced to admit the man had a point. Profit took priority after all.

“Being careful is good,” Vamir continued. “But you need to ask yourself, do you wish to remain a hedge wizard all your life? Those that take no risks are doomed to their place in the world forever.”

“As long as it’s a long life, sure. Why not?”

“Think on it. What do I always say, Celaine?”

Celaine sighed. “I don’t care. Let me concentrate.” She’d knelt and used a stick to brush aside a small mound of rocks that looked like they’d tumbled down from the wall. Hump held up the light and watched curiously. Nothing but empty ground.

“Celaine…” Vamir goaded.

Even from behind, Hump could swear she rolled her eyes. “Better to burn bright and briefly than to never burn at all,” she said tiredly.

“Exactly!” Vamir grinned. “Have some ambition, boy.”

“Tell me that when you’re on fire,” Hump snapped. “Or bleeding out. Or after you step on a spike trap and die of rot. Or have a cage of centipedes dropped on your head. There’s a reason people don’t charge headfirst into a kobold den.”

Celaine scoffed. “You’re such a wimp.”

“No amount of loot is worth dying for,” Hump said. “Gods, I shouldn’t even have to say this.”

“Seems to me the solution’s pretty obvious,” Celaine said.

Hump waited for a moment, then asked, “What?”

She stopped walking and glanced back, smirking. Her eyes shone with mischief. “Just don’t die.”

Hump frowned at her. “Well, there goes my plans for the day…”

She laughed and kept walking. Hump’s eyes lingered on the sway of her hips, and he found himself grinning.

“What are you smiling about?” Vamir growled.

Hump wiped the smile from his face and cleared his throat. “Nothing.”

They relied entirely on Hump’s staff for light, and even with just that, Celaine found and disarmed three traps along the path. She had a perception Hump couldn’t match, even if aided by magic. But it was still risky business. Usually, most parties focused their attention on a small area, working together with four or five sweepers to ensure the pathways were clear.

Dungeons weren’t meant to be cleared this way. And it was Celaine that was in the most danger. A single lapse in judgement or distraction, and she might walk right into something she would never come out of. Hump had seen it more than once. One minute, a party member was bantering as usual, the next, their head was crushed to paste.

Why was Vamir so confident? Four people wandering alone in the dungeon was a sure-fire way of taking casualties, yet the man strolled along behind them as if this were nothing more than a walk in the park. He was Celaine’s teacher, yet he displayed little concern for her safety.

They reached a large chamber, and a blast of heat coated Hump as he stepped inside. A series of pools blanketed the inner area, glowing with a dim blue light. Violent bubbles raged across the surface, filling the room with a churning echo that reminded Hump of rushing blood. The boiling water saturated the space with a thick mist.

“Something doesn’t smell right in here,” Celaine said. “What is that?”

“It smells like food,” Hump said, a sinking feeling in his stomach. “You don’t think we’re nearing their inner chambers, do you?”

Vamir had a frown on his face. “I’d expect more guards on the inner chambers. An outpost maybe.”

“Amazing,” Bud said, kneeling to take a closer look at one of the pools. “It’s just stone at the bottom. How’s it boiling?”

“Dungeon magic,” Hump said. “The pools have absorbed the residual essence given off by its core.”

“Which makes them hot?” Bud asked.

“Simply put, yes. Essence is another form of energy; it can affect temperature. Here it’s causing the water to heat, but it could also freeze it. It largely depends on the nature of the dungeon. Essence water’s key to all sorts of alchemy. We should have brought a bucket.”

“It’s fascinating,” Bud said. “The entire dungeon is. I can’t believe magic can make something so large and complex.”

Hump eyed the boiling water. “I suppose it is, in a dark and twisted and murderous way. Dungeons can create life. That’s the most primordial form of magic I can think of.”

“It’s a shame they’re all evil,” Bud said.

“Is it evil if it knows no better?” Vamir chimed in. “Is a cat evil when it plays with a mouse? It simply is as it was created to be. Magic is inherently chaotic. It makes sense that creatures born of it lack our moral compass.”

Hump paused. That wasn’t something most people knew. Vamir wasn’t just powerful, he was educated. Hump’s master would have probably debated the topic for hours with him. Hump, on the other hand, had had his enthusiasm for philosophy argued out of him. “Evil or not, they hunt and kill humans. We can’t leave them here.”

“Of course not,” Vamir said sinisterly. “When a wolf comes for the sheep, a farmer must put it down.”

“I wonder why they do it,” Bud said.

“For the same reason as everything else,” Vamir said. “They do as they were born to do. And dungeons were born to corrupt, to fester, to consume the lands. Only from the feast can they grow stronger.”

“You believe them to be sentient?” Hump asked. There were many theories on how dungeons did what they did. Dungeoneering contained a melting-pot of adventurers from far-off places, sometimes with obscene cultures and beliefs, each proffering their account of how things worked. In all, the common lore was confused as to what dungeons actually were.

“I’m certain of it,” Vamir said. “It takes a mind to create something as complicated as this and to spawn the creatures that dwell within.”

“I’m not convinced,” Hump said. “Until I hear one say ‘hello,’ I’m going to think of it as one of many theories.”

“What a pragmatic approach,” Vamir said. “You think like a wizard.”

“I am a wizard.”

“There are wizards, and there are wizards,” Vamir said. “You, lad, are the first.”

Hump narrowed his eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Vamir smiled slightly and shook his head.

“Why would you invite me to the party if you didn’t think I was capable?”

“It’s nothing,” Vamir said. “Forget I said anything. I meant no offense.”

“Right. Well, there are arseholes and there are arseholes. Can you guess which you are?”

Vamir stared at Hump, then the corners of his mouth twisted. Hump thought he saw a flash of something in the man’s eyes, and his heart raced.

Hump gulped. A chill ran through him, but he refused to let it show.

“I’ve found something,” Celaine called.

Hump turned away first, relieved for the opportunity. She was near the other end of the chamber, standing over one of the pools. It only took a heartbeat for Hump to guess what she was looking at. A red stain splattered the stone pathway, coming from the exit on the opposite side of the chamber. Blood.

They walked over to stand by her side, and Hump’s insides churned. He raised his staff for a better look. Bodies. Or, more accurately, what remained of them. The corpses had been neatly disassembled before being thrown into the boiling pot. They were cooking.

Bud stumbled back and vomited. Hump fought not to join him.

“What is this?” Hump said quietly. He took a step back, unable to look any longer. But as he turned his eyes, he spotted bones at the bottom of some of the other pools. Dozens of them. “Gods above. Where did they come from? Bledsbury didn’t report anybody missing.”

Bud was on his knees murmuring a prayer. Celaine’s face had gone even paler than before. Even Vamir appeared disturbed.

“There are many villages along the Mountain Road,” Vamir said.

“But someone would have known,” Hump said. “Someone would have seen the kobolds leaving the dungeon.”

“The storms,” Celaine said. “It would have made travel more difficult.”

“Not difficult enough for a village to ignore vanishing people!” Hump snapped.

“Unless they took them all,” Vamir said. “There must be other routes leading out of the dungeon. It could easily take a few days before anyone found and reported an empty village.”

“Gods above,” Hump said. “We need to get help. We can’t leave them here to be… They deserve a proper burial.” He stepped back, staying as far from the pools as he possibly could. Just staying on his feet was difficult. His stomach churned again, and he caught himself against the wall. Gods, the smell… He’d thought it was food.

“There might be more,” Vamir said quietly. There was a seriousness to his voice that cut through Hump’s nausea like a knife.

More people held like animals, waiting to be torn apart and sent to the boiling pools. Hump ground his teeth.

“You have a decision to make,” Vamir said. “I’m going to take a look and see if they’ve taken prisoners. I won’t blame you if you want to back out. If I’m wrong, and we’re nearing their inner chambers, we could have the entire den on us in minutes. That is the risk.”

Bud rose to his feet. “I’m with you.” He turned to look at Hump.

Hump’s throat had gone dry, his hand felt clammy against his staff. It had been risky before, but this was outright crazy. If they were caught alone in the kobold’s inner chambers… Well, they’d end up as dinner too.

But if there were people down here that needed help, could he turn his back? Hump peered at the exit out of the corner of his eye. The others would be stranded without his Wizard Light, and he’d be forced to return to the surface alone. Two things he didn’t want.

Hump forced a grim smile. “Me too.”

Celaine simply nodded her agreement.

Vamir gave him a grateful look, and Hump thought it might be the first genuine emotion he’d seen in the man. “Thank you. Take a moment to collect yourselves before we move forward. If they have prisoners, we need to know. If we can, we get them out; otherwise we report back to the field station and come back here with everyone that’s willing.” He looked between them all, eyes hard and focused. “Any questions?”

Nobody said a word.

“Good,” Vamir said. “I’m going to take the lead from here. Bud, I want you at my back, Celaine next, and then Hump. Be ready with a spell. We’re going to need crowd control. Do what you can to slow them down.”

There were nervous nods all around.

They proceeded in silence, following the trail of blood out of the chamber and into dark tunnels. Hump dimmed the light of his staff, reducing the amount of essence he channelled into the spell to a mere sliver. They stalked forward, Vamir’s shadow a good ten paces ahead of them. Celaine could scout silently, but Vamir was a ghost. Hump wouldn’t have even sensed his presence if he hadn’t known the man was there.

It wasn’t long until they saw steady light at the end of the tunnel and the murmuring echoes of alien voices. Kobolds communicated in croaks, chirps, and weird clicking mouth sounds that few humans could replicate.

Vamir stopped short of the chamber and held up a hand for them to wait. His attention was on the ground. After a minute, he removed a mantrap from the centre of the tunnel, carefully moving a thin strip of wire to the side of the path where they couldn’t step on it.

Hump smelt the chamber first. An overpowering waft of blood and rot. Again, his stomach rebelled, but this was business now. He pushed back his fear and focused on the task at hand.

The tunnel opened out into a dank little chamber, dimly lit with crystals in the walls that glowed a sickly green. There were no kobolds in sight. An alcove on the left side held a rack of butcher’s knives that drew Hump’s eye first. Saws, cleavers, and knives as long as an arm. Around them, the entire space was so covered in blood, Hump could have mistaken it for paint, apart from a dark hole in the ground near the corner.

And there were cages. Many, many cages. Men. Women. Children.

TEN

DUNGEON OF HORRORS

The cages were so small that those inside couldn’t properly stand or lie down, forced to huddle their thin shapes into the shadows of the back. The prisoners hadn’t seen them yet, the shadows of the tunnel hiding them from view. The room stank of grime and fear. Hump could hardly bear to look at them. They were husks of their former selves, staring blankly ahead with dead, hollow eyes.

Hump forced himself to look away and scan the room methodically, building a wall of logic to block out his horror and grief. The cages were square-shaped, made of poorly crafted wood that wouldn’t stand a chance of holding an experienced adventurer. For ordinary villagers though, it was enough. Iron locks bolted the doors. There was no escaping this prison, not without help.

Three children were kept at the centre of the room, in full view of everyone else, seemingly a constant reminder of why they shouldn’t try to break free. Beside them were three empty child-sized cages. Hump wished with all his being that they were simply three cages too many. From the cruelty already on display, he doubted it.

White-hot fury blazed within him.

He was young, but he’d been in the world of dungeons and monsters for almost a decade. There was a level of desensitisation that one built up to sights such as this, but it had been a while since Hump had seen something that made him feel so much hate. He wanted the kobolds dead. He wanted them punished. It took everything he had to not charge into the chamber and hunt them down like rats in a sewer. He could still hear them, the clicks and chatters of their voices warping as they echoed through the tunnel.

“Bastards,” Bud snarled, storming the chamber.

Hump threw himself into the knight, shoving him against the wall with all his strength. It was barely enough to move the big man. “Wait!”

“Get out of my way,” Bud hissed, half shoving him to the ground, and again Hump threw his body weight against the knight.

“We have to check for traps, Bud,” Hump said. Bud glared down at him, breathing heavily, with an anger in his eyes that made Hump nervous. That same anger burned within him, but a wizard knew not to let emotions take control. “We can’t help anyone if we’re dead.”

“I won’t leave them,” Bud growled, shoving against him again.

Hump gritted his teeth and pressed him back. “We won’t,” he said. “If you want to help these people, let us make a plan.” Hump held his breath, ready to go for another round. Only when Bud’s shoulders relaxed did he release him, taking a step back. “Are you good?”

“Yeah.” Bud nodded. “Sorry. I… There’s children.” He practically choked on the words. He rubbed a hand against his face and blinked hard. “We have to help them.”

Hump clapped his arm. “I’m with you all the way. We’re going to get them out and make the bastards who did this pay.” Hump turned back to the other two to find them watching him closely. “What do we do?” he asked Vamir.

“You two won’t be any use now,” Vamir said. “Wait here and stay quiet.”

“We can help,” Bud said.

Vamir shook his head. “This must be done quickly and quietly. If there are traps, I can only be sure of Celaine and I spotting and disarming them. A single wrong move and every kobold in this damned place could be after us. Hump, are you able to bring down this tunnel?” He pressed his palm against the tunnel wall.

Hump glanced up at the jagged stones. It was solid stone; there wasn’t a hope of blasting it apart with his ordinary battle magic. Though there were other ways to work things. “I can do it. It’ll be big, loud, and explosive, but I can bring it down. I’ll need at least a couple of minutes to prepare.”

“Work on it,” Vamir said. “But do it quietly. When the time comes, you won’t have a minute. You’ll be covering our retreat.”

Hump gulped but nodded. He was in over his head. Way, way over his head. The old man would have been able to pull something like this off no problem, but Hump had never needed to use such large-scale magic under pressure. He wondered if he’d made a mistake coming down here with Vamir. There were certainly other options. But if not for him, nobody would have found these people.

Just don’t screw it up, he told himself.

“Good,” Vamir said. “Bud, guard him. Don’t let anyone wander off.”

Bud frowned.

Vamir gripped his shoulder tightly, chainmail crinkling. “I know you want to help, but trust me, this is the best you can do for now. Leave us to our strengths and understand your own weaknesses. That’s what it means to work as a party. When the fighting starts, we’re going to need you on the front line. Understood?”

Vamir’s sentiment seemed enough to harden Bud’s resolve, and his stance shifted ever so slightly. “Understood. You can count on me.”

“I will.” Vamir looked between them. “With any luck, we might not get stabbed or eaten.” He turned his focus to the chamber. “Celaine, take the left side. I’ll start with the kids.”

“Got it,” she said.

“Good luck,” Hump whispered after them.

Hump could hardly focus on his work as he watched Celaine and Vamir creep forward. Slowly, the prisoners began to pay attention to them. Dim, grey eyes suddenly flickered and shined with hope. It split his heart in two.

Celaine held a finger to her lips.

The two made slow progress. They found the first trap almost immediately—a stone tile on the ground that wasn’t quite uniform. Some sort of pressure plate similar to the one he’d seen Celaine disarm in the tunnel earlier. It had been connected to a delicate shard of essence, a fragment of an essence stone. She explained that stepping on the stone would crush the shard and cause it to explode. It was probably too small to kill you, but enough to take your foot off and alert every kobold in the area.

Hump forced his eyes away. There wasn’t time for him to watch. He had his own job to do. His master would have been able to bring down the tunnel with ease. Knowing the old man, he’d probably figure out a way to crumble it to gravel and then reform it into a wall. Hump had never been much good at fine work. That took real skill and practice—something he was many years away from perfecting. Instead, he preferred to rely on brute force. Chuck enough power into a spell, and it didn’t matter how much leaked out in the process, so long as it got the job done.

“What’s the plan?” Bud asked. “Can you really bring this down?”

“Sure.” Hump shrugged. “A wizard always has his ways.” With all the slickness he could muster, he whipped out the stick of chalk he’d purchased in town from his trouser pocket and held it up as if it were a dangerous weapon. Then he knelt and got to work.

Wizards thrived in magical focal points. They were places where essence was most concentrated. Here in the dungeon, the ambient essence was so thick, it coated his skin like tiny ants. He might not have a god to draw magic from like a Chosen, but he knew his own strength and could draw on essence from the world around him. Just as the dungeon gave the kobolds strength and rejuvenation, he would take it for himself.

There was a reason Chosen didn’t use magic in this way. It was slow, inconvenient, and essence came in many different forms. Vamir had said it right, essence was innately chaotic. If that was true for the outside world, dungeon essence was on an entirely different level. To use it, Hump had two options. Either he transformed it into something less likely to burn him alive from the inside, or he must rely on his runes to channel it for him and simply act as the conduit.

The latter was more reliable, so he got to work on a circle of six runes, himself at its centre. The general idea that he affixed in his mind was one of control. If the dungeon essence was a storm, he was a sail. A gentle wind would carry him wherever he needed to go, he just had to ensure it didn’t tear apart his ship. There was no need to complicate it further. With this amount of essence, he needed to do little more than point it where it needed to go and active the spell.

Runes were complicated. To the uninitiated, they might seem to be nothing more than simple words and letters. They weren’t. They were far beyond anything that could be conveyed in simple writing. Devised from the writings of the gods, they articulated concepts and meanings in a way that could literally change the world. Technically, it was possible for a powerful enough wizard to do something like this with their mind alone, but it was far more difficult. They would need the strength of will to resist the natural intent of the dungeon while still possessing the focus to actually channel the spell. All the wizards Hump had met needed things to help them focus—words, gestures, visualisations, artifacts, and most powerful of all, runes.

There was no room for mistakes. Each stroke—each mark—had to be imbued with the will of the caster, guided into existence by their carefully crafted intent. The runes for Hidden Fire had been child’s play, designed only to store his essence and intent to maintain the spell. Now, even for a rune as simple as Gather, he had to maintain complete and perfect focus, instilling it with intent strong enough override the volatile nature of dungeon essence. Like his storage runes, it would hold essence, but unlike them, it would draw in that essence from the dungeon. There would be no second chance, not on a rune that absorbed this amount of essence. If he messed it up, that would mean the end of him and likely the end of any chance these fourteen prisoners had to escape.

When he was done, the runes took effect immediately, lighting up in various reds, blues, and blacks as they absorbed essence from the dungeon. Only the rune at the top of the formation held a bronze sheen, growing brighter as more and more essence was transformed to the correct affinity. Hump stood at the centre of the formation, mentally preparing for the sudden surge of essence. The runes helped contain it, but residual essence assailed him in a wave of heat that pressed up through his body like a fever. He leant heavily on his staff and focused on the crystal, channelling as much power as possible into the artifact. The engraved runes along the staff began to glow, smoking with bronze vapour. The focus shimmered as if a flame were set within.

As more essence flooded him, the dark tunnels suddenly seemed full of light. Every jagged rock was as clear to him as if they were outside. The blood, the emaciated prisoners, the children. He could see it all. And as he closed his eyes, he could sense the deep, unending power of the dungeon.

It was the power to shatter stone, to crack the earth, to shake the very world. And for this small moment, it was his. And it was ready to burst.

When he opened his eyes, three children stood behind Bud at his side, watching him with a mixture of awe and fear. He’d not noticed them arrive. He knew how he must look. Essence leaked from his body like steam, and his eyes would be shining with the bronze radiance he channelled.

Hump gave them what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Make sure nobody touches the markings,” Hump said, bronze mist on his breath. “It’s sensitive stuff.”

They all nodded nervously. They were thin—so thin he wondered how long they had been captive. The sight opened a pit in Hump’s stomach, distracting him just a moment yet it was enough that he almost allowed the full force of his runes to spill inside and consume him. He focused on his breathing, envisioning his essence channels as a river throughout his body, suppressing the waves with a touch of his will. He couldn’t let emotion take over. When that happened, he would no longer be the one in command; it would be the essence driving him. And little good would come of that. It only took one slip up to be changed forever.

In the darkness beyond his sight, through the connection he now possessed with the dungeon, he felt something stir. A tremor through the ground, so faint, he wondered if he’d imagined it.

He focused harder, reaching out with his senses, searching beyond the chamber’s exit and into the tunnels beyond. Nothing. Whatever it was had stopped.

Relax, he told himself. Just tunnel echoes. He frowned. Or lack thereof.

The silence might as well have been thunder. The sound of kobolds was gone. There was no quiet clicking chatter, no cough or choked snarl. Just silence. Hump turned to Bud, fighting back panic as he realised they weren’t getting the prisoners out fast enough. “They’re coming.”

“What?”

“I can feel it. The noise is gone. They’re onto us, we need to move.”

There wasn’t a moment of doubt. Bud drew his sword, the blade coming alive with Frostfire, casting Bud and the tunnel in an icy blue light. The children shrank back.

Bud hurried into the room, trying to be as quiet as he could, retracing the steps laid out by Vamir and Celaine. “Vamir, we’re cutting open the cages.”

The man glanced at him, taking only a moment to understand. “Do it.” He drew his own sword, the blade streaking silver. “Celaine, shoot whatever the hell comes from that tunnel.”

She already had her bow in hand. “Like you need to tell me,” she snapped back. For all her bravado, Hump couldn’t help but notice she floundered with her arrows—she was nervous. That wasn’t good because he was nervous too.

Don’t get distracted, he told himself. There was way too much essence flowing through him for him to start getting cold feet.

Vamir hacked at the first cage, using his sword as an axe. Bud charged up to the next one, a man held inside. With a great, two-handed swing of his longsword, he sliced through all five bars with ease. A crack echoed out.

Two more prisoners free. They could do this. They could…

A tremor shook the ground. Fast and constant, like beating drums. Footsteps, growing closer by the second.

The first out of the tunnel was a salamander. It bounced off the walls like an overexcited puppy, only this puppy was bigger than a crocodile. Dark red-brown scales armoured its body, the scales slick and smooth as a snake’s. Its underside was a lighter tanned white. It charged at them, snarling with razor teeth, tail whipping behind it.

Celaine let loose an arrow that streaked through the air, trailed by the same silver light as Vamir’s blade, and pierced the creature just beneath the eye. The salamander recoiled and fell, screaming as it writhed on the ground. Another appeared out of the darkness behind it, barrelling over its injured brethren as kobolds rushed into the chamber behind it, snarling like dogs and brandishing their spears. In seconds, the room erupted in a chorus of throaty growls and howls.

The horde was upon them.

ELEVEN

KOBOLD SLAUGHTER

The lead salamander sniffed at the air, snapping its jaws hungrily. Behind it, the injured one flailed on the ground, clawing at the arrow Celaine buried beneath its eye. Its tail whipped wildly in its panic, colliding with one of the nearby kobolds and sending it hurtling to the ground. The others backed away, getting out of range as the injured creature thrashed about, disrupting their formation.

It wasn’t much, but the distraction bought a little time.

There were too many kobolds to count. They crowded into the chamber and clustered near the wall, trying to slip around the salamander’s writhing form. The small creatures carried rudimentary spears and clubs, along with a few shields that looked to be made from the tops of barrels or crates. Their armour consisted mostly of patchy leather scraps that they’d modified into armour, though red scales poked out from beneath.

“Hold them back,” Bud roared, slashing open another of the cages. There were still four more cages to go. The man inside scrambled free. “Go!” Bud shouted, grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him toward the tunnel where the others gathered behind Hump.

Bud was onto the next cage in moments, but progress was still too slow. They needed a minute, and right now, Hump didn’t even think they had ten seconds.

Celaine let loose a trio of arrows, striking kobolds that trailed the charging salamander. It hardly made a dent in their numbers, but kobolds were cowardly creatures. They shrieked and shoved back through their own ranks, hiding behind those with shields, none wanting to be the first into the fight. The hesitation wasn’t much, but every second counted. Kobolds preferred to fight where they had a clear advantage, whether in numbers or terrain.

Bud hacked through another cage as Vamir shot off an attack of his own—five arrows in a blink, each felling a creature. Painful screams erupted from their ranks, and the kobold line faltered, falling back into the tunnel where they blocked in their reinforcements. At the rear, a deep voice barked orders, forcing the fearful lizards forward. Those that didn’t move on their own were shoved and sent staggering into the chamber or tripping and being trampled by their comrades in their advance.

Celaine got loose one more arrow before she was forced to focus on the salamander. It lunged at her, bashing aside empty cages with a sweep of its head, its great maw bearing down on the girl. She hopped to the side elegantly, moving faster and farther than any ordinary mortal could match. That was a blessing at work, there was no doubt about it. Hump could see the trails of green light streaming from her feet as she moved. For a brief second, Hump felt hope kindling. If she and Vamir were both Chosen, it was no wonder he had been so confident delving so deep into the dungeon.

Celaine landed light as a bird, dropping into a roll and coming to her feet beside the cages with a grace Hump hadn’t seen outside of rogues and acrobats. She lured the floundering mass of flesh and scales away from the remaining prisoners. It chased like a bull seeing red, drawn toward the now empty cages at the centre of the room where the children had been until just moments ago.

It was almost upon her, and despite all the essence Hump held in his grasp, he felt powerless to help her. If he got distracted, he could bring the entire tunnel down on them. He had his own job to worry about. They wouldn’t get any of the prisoners out without a way to cut off their pursuers.

For all his fear, Celaine showed none of it. The earlier nervousness he’d seen when she fumbled with the arrows had been replaced by the ease of a huntress. She bobbed and swayed like a dancer, shifting back and out of the salamander’s reach. In a moment of reprieve, she leapt into the air and levelled her bow at the creature, her entire body going taught as it flexed to the limits. Her muscles tensed, showing off the toned power contained in her figure. Every part of her was behind the motion that drew the string back to her ear, and for a moment, Hump couldn’t tell where the bow ended, and she began. The arrowhead glinted silver, essence radiating from it. The bowstring twanged.

This time the arrow took the salamander in the chest just inside the foreleg, penetrating the lighter scales of its underside all the way up the shaft. The creature wailed, throwing itself at her in a frenzy. Celaine landed with impeccable footwork, dodging out of reach. The creature smashed through cages, lumbering after her in wild pursuit, unable to touch a hair on her body.

The rampage lasted only a few seconds, its movements growing sluggish as its blood leaked across the ground. Vamir dashed in close, faster than any ordinary man could achieve. His blade trailed the same silver as Celaine’s arrow, cutting a long gash in the creature’s fleshier underside. Blood spilled out of the wound, and the creature screamed, scrambling against the chamber wall where it snarled.

In the tunnel, a larger kobold shoved out from behind the mass, drawing Hump’s eye. This one was different, and Hump immediately took it to be the group leader. Bright yellow spines ran down its head and neck, sticking out like teeth. While its armour was a far cry from quality, the leather was more fitted than the scraps the others wore. It wielded a short sword, likely scavenged during the village raid or from one of the fallen dungeoneers. It shouted something, its voice throatier than the shrill chirps of the other kobolds. They raised their spears to throw on its order, taking aim at Vamir and Celaine.

Hump whirled on the children, and other prisoners gathered around him. “Everybody back!” They stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed and afraid. For a moment, Hump wondered if they couldn’t understand him until a young woman took charge, ushering the children back down the tunnel.

Hump didn’t wait to make sure they got clear. There wasn’t time. Instead, he raised his staff and aimed it at the tunnel wall, angling it toward the kobolds beyond. Collapsing the tunnel was no longer in the cards. Vamir would have to come up with another retreat plan; they needed to make it out of here alive first.

Hump drew in power from his runes, funnelling it through his staff and into the crystal focus. The runes etched along its shaft grew brighter, steaming bronze vapour as they worked to contain the power. The crystal shone with the same light, brighter still, illuminating the walls of the tunnel and chamber. The human body wasn’t designed to withstand so much essence, so the staff was designed to provide a place to build up essence in preparation for a spell. But this was too much for even it to handle. The power flowed through him like fire, and his body screamed. Every muscle, every bone strained against the force. If his focus lapsed for even a moment, it would tear him apart and consume him.

The lead kobold raised its sword, then turned to stare directly at him. They all turned. Kobolds were afraid of magic and superstition, as they should be. Even their leader hesitated before shouting something again and waving its sword in Hump’s direction. They aimed their spears.

Hump didn’t have another moment to wait. What essence he’d gathered would have to do.

“Rockshot!” Hump barked.

Before he’d even finished his command, essence burst from his staff. A blast of pure, bronze energy lashed into the tunnel wall. The sudden explosion sent out a wave of pressure that swept back Hump’s hair and cloak. Bronze steamed from his staff. From his skin. It painted the world in a sheen of bronze.

His essence penetrated the wall with a crack like a mountain split in two. Bronze light shone through like veins of flame in the rock, growing wider and deeper. The entire chamber groaned, rocks split, cracking and grating together. Dust streamed through newly opened gaps in the roof and walls. The light of Hump’s staff flared brighter in one final explosion of essence, and all the power he’d gathered left him at once.

The tunnel wall shattered in a burst of blinding light, a leaving a gaping hole where stone had just been. The explosion filled the air with dust, thick and choking in the chamber. Chunks of stone trailed bronze light as they blasted into the kobolds, devastating their ranks.

For a while, Hump could hear nothing but the ringing in his ears. He wheezed, pulling up his shirt to cover his mouth and nose as he searched for clean air. The magic coursing through him had slowed to a trickle now that Hump’s focus had crumbled. The fire in his body turned to ice, spreading out from his heart in twisting tendrils, worming their way into his limbs. He staggered against his staff, clutching it for balance.

What remained of the dungeon’s essence dissipated, the spell now complete. He channelled what little power he had left into his staff, readying a shield spell if he saw anything move. But all was still.

Slowly, the ringing in his ears quietened. The whimpering and pained cries of the kobolds was a cacophony of death. Hump knew they deserved it—hell, they probably deserved worse—but the sound still made him feel ill. As the dust settled, only a handful remained on their feet. The rest were on the ground, bludgeoned and torn apart by the stones. Faces crushed, limbs mottled with holes or missing entirely. Bodies lay limp and broken, contorted into unnatural forms, their bones smashed into pieces. Those still standing fled to the tunnel on shaky legs.

Somewhere amongst all the fighting, Celaine and Vamir had slain the salamander. They stood beside its corpse, weapons in hand, shielding their eyes from the dust. Bud had freed the last of the prisoners and now stood in the centre of the chamber, his Frostfire sword shining like a lighthouse through the dark.

“That’s what you get, you bastards!” Bud yelled at the kobolds. He took a step forward, and their shifty retreat turned into a full-on run. “Cowards.”

“Well said,” Vamir said, sheathing his sword. “Is anybody hurt?”

Nobody answered.

“I need answers!” he said. “Celaine?”

“I’m alright,” she called.

“Not hurt,” Bud said.

“Same here,” Hump said. He was out of breath and freezing from essence overuse. He’d need a few hours to recover, but that exhaustion just meant he was alive. He turned to the village people huddled in the tunnel behind him. “Is everyone here?”

The young woman who took charge earlier answered. “Everyone that’s left,” she croaked. She was covered in dirt like all of them and looked half-starved. “Thank you for coming.”

“All part of the job.” Hump smiled.

Bud sheathed his sword and hurried over to join Hump in the tunnel. The knight let out a long sigh. “We’re going to get you all out of here. What’s your name?”

“Alison.”

“Right, Alison, I want you to get everyone ready to move. We need to get going before reinforcements show up.”

“My husband…” another woman stammered. “They took him.”

Bud had a pained look on his face, he opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked pale.

“There’s more of us above,” Hump said in his place. “I’m sorry, but we can’t go any farther on our own. The sooner we get back to the surface, the sooner we can come back here with help.”

“Come on, Susan,” Alison said softly, pressing gently on her back and ushering her up the tunnel. Alison gave them a grateful look, then helped the others on their way.

“Thanks,” Bud said softly. “I… I didn’t know what to say. I froze.”

“Happens,” Hump said.

Bud nodded, his eyes flicking to the gaping hole Hump had left in the wall with his spell. “I thought only Chosen could use power like this.”

“A lot of people do,” Hump said, leaning on his staff and taking a breath. He rubbed at his chest, trying to get some warmth back into himself. “This is nothing, though. You should have seen my master in action. He’d have found some clever way to handle it, like opening a pit beneath the feet of the kobolds. Something elegant.”

“But you handled it,” Bud said. “That’s what counts.”

In the chamber, Celaine walked gingerly over to the fallen salamander and prodded it with her toe.

“Are you two coming?” Hump called.

“Go on ahead,” Vamir said. “We’ll gather the heartstones and catch up to you. We’re fast enough to run if more show up.”

Hump nodded, too tired to argue. He’d just have to trust them to share the spoils equally. Celaine drew her slender dagger from her belt and began cutting open the salamander’s chest.

“Can you walk by yourself?” Bud asked.

Hump gave him an amused look. “I’m not that pathetic.” Leaning heavily on his staff, he began the journey back to the surface. “Let’s get these people out of here.”

TWELVE

BITTER VICTORY

SPELLBOOK

Rockshot

Alteration/Evocation | Battle Magic | Tier 2 | Range: Medium

Description

Call upon the power of the earth to send stone hurtling at your target.

Origin Spells

Transform Earth

Essence Blast

Notes

y.916 – Sethril – A simple combination of two spells but one of devastating effect. This is a highly versatile spell well suited to any wizard with an affinity with earth. Find yourself a pouch full of stones and you will always have ammunition at hand.

They collected torches from the dead kobolds. The improvised lights were made using the same green essence stones that lined the chamber walls and glowed with an eerie light. There were more than enough to hand out amongst the villagers, and it saved Hump from having to maintain a light spell all the way back to the surface. After the magic he’d just pulled off, he was certainly glad of that.

Hump felt nervous leaving Vamir and Celaine to harvest the heartstones from those they had slain. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been shorthanded by a party member, though considering how wealthy Vamir appeared, it seemed unlikely. Besides, they didn’t have time to wait around. The last attack made a lot of noise. It wouldn’t be long before kobold reinforcements arrived, and when they did, Hump wanted to be long gone. The villagers were in no condition to run; they needed every moment they had to get as far away as possible.

“Best you cover the children’s eyes through here,” Bud said softly when they reached the boiling pools.

Wish someone would cover my eyes too, Hump thought.

The smell was the worst part; it was too similar to a campfire stew. It sickened him to his core. He tried not to pay attention to the tears and sorrow of the villagers as they glimpsed what was left of their friends and families. He tried to ignore the terrified whimpers of the children, each tugging on his heart. Focus on the work, he told himself. Get them back safely. Do your job.

He wasn’t ready for this. For all his training, he felt lost. He’d seen people die, but this systematic butchery was somehow crueller. Every step was long and filled with dread, and when they were finally through the steam-filled chamber, the journey upward dragged by at a snail’s pace. Hump trailed at the rear. He’d told Bud it was to ensure no trouble followed. In truth, he could barely keep pace with the half-starved villagers. His spell had done the job, but the brute force method of performing magic held a cost, even more so when that magic drew on the chaotic essence of the dungeon. He was cold to the bone and craved nothing more than to curl up beside a hot fire and sleep. There was a long way left to go before that.

The chalk markings Hump had left on the walls on their journey down glowed faintly in the dark, guiding their way. They were about halfway back to the surface when Vamir and Celaine caught up, each now carrying a small pouch of heartstones. It was a minor thing really, but the reward had Hump excited. Even divided amongst the four of them, the gemstones were worth more than Hump ever expected to earn in a single trip. The heartstones of common monsters like kobolds were in high demand, vital in everything from the fuelling of artifacts and potion making to fertilising fields and essence plants.

“You look awful,” Celaine said, walking at his side.

“Thanks,” Hump said. She had a nasty cut beneath her right eye, still trickling with blood. Even in the dim light, he could already see a purple tint to the surrounding skin. “You don’t look so good yourself.”

Celaine snorted. “Just what a girl wants to hear.”

Hump smiled softly. “I tend to put it a little more delicately when I’ve got energy left to think.”

“You did good, Hump,” Vamir said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I take back what I said before. You’re one of the good wizards.”

Hump nodded appreciatively. “Thanks.”

“I’m going to check how things are at the front. Celaine, stay with him. Shout if he falls on his face.” Vamir gave Hump a wink and hurried up the column, checking on the villagers as he went.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Celaine asked. “You look like you’re turning blue. Is there nothing in your potion pouch that can help?”

“Just need to get a meal in me,” Hump said. “I’m not used to controlling so much essence. It took more out of me than I expected.” He paused. “Actually, I do have something.” He opened his pouch and searched for a small piece of cloth and a large vial of translucent pink liquid. He pulled out the stopper and placed the cloth over the opening, tipping out a little of the liquid inside. He held it out to Celaine. “Here. Press this to your cheek. It’s a lesser healing salve. It probably won’t fix up your cheek completely before we’re back up to the surface, but it’ll help.”

She took it. “Thanks.” She pressed the cloth against her cheek and held it in place. “It was quick thinking back there. I thought only Chosen could perform magic like that. I don’t think even Vamir would have been able to keep the kobolds at bay long enough for us to free the villagers.”

Hump grinned. Tired as he was, he always had energy to spare when it came to taking compliments, especially from a girl as pretty as Celaine. He could tell her that he’d simply drawn the runes and pointed them where they had to go, that it was nothing but brute force magic. But alas, that would have taken a more modest man than he.

“That’s the second time I’ve saved you now.” His grin widened.

She scoffed. “Huh. Here I thought I brought down a salamander and half a dozen kobolds. But sure, you saved me.”

“Okay, fine.” Hump smiled. “Maybe I didn’t completely save you. You did well too.” He considered asking her about the abilities she’d displayed in the fight—the blessings. She and Vamir were Chosen, yet they’d not mentioned it. Why?

Now isn’t the time to go prodding for secrets, he thought. But if they were to remain as a party, they needed to know each other’s capabilities. Trust had to go both ways. Though in Hump’s book, their actions today earned them the benefit of the doubt, at least for a bit. They were good people, that’s what mattered. The discussion could wait for tomorrow. For now, the villagers had to take priority.

Abandoned kobold chambers captured in previous dungeon raids marked entry to the dungeon’s outer regions. They were mostly small outposts that had been used as the kobold’s first line of defence, bolstered by barricades and what were now decommissioned traps. Now, under Overseer Oswald’s command, the defences had been repurposed to prevent any attempt at a kobold counterattack, and unnecessary side tunnels had been collapsed.

It was tedious work, but effective. A display of how vital the non-combat teams of the Adventurer’s Guild were. Killing monsters was one thing, but claiming their territory was how to truly defeat them.

As they approached, one of the guards called out to them. “What happened down there?”

“What does it look like?” Vamir said. “Send a runner to the Overseer. We’ve got fourteen villagers with us in need of urgent care.”

The guard looked over the group, seemingly only now noticing their condition. “Understood. Anton, you heard the man. Report this directly to Lord Oswald. Not a word to anyone else, you got that?” The younger guard nodded and sprinted down the tunnel on the far side. The guard turned back to them. “You’re safe now,” he said to the villagers. “There are no kobolds beyond this point. You’ll be alright.”

“Thank you,” Vamir said to the guard.

“No need for that,” the guard said. “You’ve done the gods’ work.” He turned to the villagers, removing his helmet and clutching it to his heart. He bowed his head. “My sympathies to you all. The Lady’s Light upon you.”

From the outpost, it didn’t take them long to reach the surface. It was almost dark out, and a crowd was waiting for them, a team of field surgeons and the followers of Lady Light at the forefront, with seemingly half the encampment behind them.

“So much for not speaking a word to anyone else,” Hump whispered to Bud.

“Why are they all here?” Bud asked.

“Greed, probably,” Hump said. “They want to know where we found the villagers.”

The head priestess stepped forward, wearing a white robe embroidered with gold. She raised her arms and began chanting. Light blossomed from her like a warm breeze, and it surged into Hump, filling him with energy and pushing back the icy cold and exhaustion. In it dwelled the love that Lady Light had for all things, her warmth and calm. Around him, the rest of his party and the villagers glowed faintly with the same light. Only when she was finished did the field medics rush forward, handing out drinks and blankets.

From amongst the crowd, a burly man strolled toward them. He had a shaved head and a face that reminded Hump of a wolf, marred with all the menacing scars of a man that had spent his life in battle. A great, white gash split his left eye down the centre and had turned the iris the colour of cream. Even out of his armour, he struck an intimidating figure.

Hump hadn’t met the man before, but he recognised him from descriptions alone. Lord Oswald Wickes, Dungeon Overseer, stood at the front of a cohort of Adventurer’s Guild representatives and party leaders.

Hump gulped. There wasn’t a dungeoneer in the kingdom that hadn’t heard of him. The Chosen hated him, but for everyone else, he was a hero. The man was a career soldier who rose the ranks due to his ferocity and strategy on the battlefield. He was no lord by birth. No Chosen. Yet he’d still reached the rank of silver and gained the Overseer title in the Adventurer’s Guild, commanding dungeon expeditions all over the kingdom. He was an example that everyone could strive for. Proof that one didn’t have to be Chosen to make it, that if one worked hard enough, any essence practitioner could gain the strength to rise.

“Who speaks for you?” Oswald asked.

Vamir stepped forward. “That would be me, Overseer. I’m Vamir.”

Oswald nodded to him. “A pleasure. Could you tell me what happened?”

“There isn’t much to it, really,” he said. “My party and I were searching the west tunnels when we came across a kobold chamber with the good people of Hursdale imprisoned inside. We got them out.”

“I see,” Oswald said.

“There’s more of us,” Alison said, shaking off the help of one of the field surgeons and staggering forward. “They took everyone they could and killed the ones they couldn’t. Please, you have to send help.”

“How many did they take?” Oswald asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “It was dark, and they split us up. Hundreds though.”

Oswald’s face twinged. “Gods above.” He turned to Vamir. “Did you see any signs of more?”

“No,” Vamir said. “Kobolds arrived before we could look any further. There was a fight. I made the choice to prioritise the safety of those we had and the rest of my party.”

Oswald nodded. “The right choice. What’s your name, miss?”

“Alison.”

“We’ll do everything we can to get your people out, Alison. For now, you need medical attention. I’ll be around shortly to ask some questions. Until then, please take care of yourself.”

“There’s no time,” she sobbed. “They’re eating us.”

Three words that were enough to silence a hundred hardened dungeoneers. Hump felt sick.

“Alison,” Oswald said. “Every available resource will be dedicated to getting your people out safely. We’re going to need whatever information you can give us to do that. So rest, and we will be with you shortly.”

She nodded.

“Priestess, would you see to her?” Oswald asked, gesturing to one of the followers nearby.

“Of course, milord.”

While the villagers were escorted out of the crowds and to the medical tents, Vamir continued his recount of what happened.

“I fear the guild may have underestimated the perilousness of this dungeon,” Oswald said. “Thank you. All of you. Your efforts today may save many more lives.”

“We will help them, won’t we, sir?” Bud asked.

Oswald held the knight’s gaze. “We will certainly try.” He turned from them and addressed the waiting crowd.

“There’s to be a briefing in the morning where a decision will be made on how we deal with this. All party leaders are invited to attend. Until then, no one is to go near the people of Hursdale but those of the medica.”

There were questions, but Oswald wasn’t having any of it. “Vamir, I’d like for you and your party to be there tomorrow.”

“Understood.”

“Thank you,” Oswald said. “Get some rest. I have a feeling tomorrow’s going to be a busy day for us all.”

Hump gulped. A gathering of all the party leaders to reassess the situation, and he’d been invited. Everybody in Bledsbury of any importance would be there. Party leaders, guilds, talent scouts. All the people Hump needed to impress if he were to make it as a hedge wizard.

Yet he’d used the guise of an official member of the Adventurer’s Guild for the free benefits they offered to their members, with no proof that the medallion he carried had truly been inherited from his master. It’ll be fine, he told himself. You had no choice. Prancer needed stabling, which he couldn’t afford to pay for. And who wouldn’t make use of the discounted prices at the field station?

Hump took a deep breath and sighed. He doubted they’d see it like that.

THIRTEEN

THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK

Hump stood straight and stiff as a statue, trying his best to look inconspicuous. Considering the company, that was no difficult task.

He was in the command tent, surrounded by all the party leaders of the encampment, the two of which were from major guilds. These were the decision-makers. Those who commanded the most men or power in this small corner of the world. They were the Chosen. The lords and ladies. Dungeon veterans that had long since established names for themselves through their efforts to clear the king’s land of monsters. Compared to them, Hump was a nobody.

Lantheer of the Silver Spears was present, Joslin of the White Peaks, and a handful of other smaller names that Hump had heard mention of in his years travelling with his master. Gerard and Sanya were among them, positioned out of the way at the back of the tent.

Hump found himself grinning at the thought of the old man seeing him now at a meeting like this. A hedge wizard at best, a gutter-wizard in the eyes of many others. Suffice it to say, he was in well over his head. And while he was never very good at understanding the right moments to keep his mouth shut, he was pretty sure this was one of them.

“What are you grinning about?” Celaine whispered, sounding annoyed. They were standing at one end of the large table running through the centre of the tent, out of the way.

“Just pleased to be here.”

“Well, cut it out before someone notices.”

Hump looked at her and widened his smile. “I didn’t realise my smile offended you.”

“It’s not me you should be worried about,” she said. “Does it look like they’re having a pleasant conversation?”

Hump glanced over at the gathering of dungeoneers. They’d taken up sides around the table, those aligned with the Silver Spears on one side and those with the White Peaks on the other. They were poised over a map of the dungeon, arguing over which of the kobold strongholds were most vulnerable to attack, and by what methods.

“Oh,” Hump said. “No. They don’t look too happy.”

“Exactly. So, I suggest you stop smirking before someone gets the wrong idea.”

Hump sighed, ultimately doing as she told him. She was right, of course. He needed to get on the good side of these people. An opportunity like this hadn’t come along before, and it might never again.

Gods above, he thought. I might get into the White Peaks. He’d be set for life. How many spells would a guild that size have? He’d have battle magic for every day of the week. Hump was practically salivating at the idea when he became suddenly aware of how he was standing. He straightened up and adjusted his collar. Their spot at the end of the table was dead in the middle of both sides. They weren’t exactly surrounded by the two rivals, but it was close enough that Hump felt all eyes were on him.

Play it cool, he told himself. Nobody likes a man that’s too eager.

When Lord Oswald strode into the tent, the chatter died down. Like everyone else in the command tent, he was dressed for battle. For him, that meant polished plate armour over chainmail.

Hump felt a chill run through him as he realised just how much respect the man evoked. Even here, in a tent full of young and up-and-coming Chosen and nobles, there was silence. There was no doubt who was in command. He was the Overseer, the only silver rank amongst them and their commander. It was not one’s status that mattered in the Adventurer’s Guild; it was their strength, their experience, and most importantly, their results.

Entering the tent beside him was a man Hump didn’t recognise. At any rate, the pompous, arrogant smile plastered on his face told Hump everything he needed to know. Spoilt, noble, arsehole. Three words best kept separate and yet seemed to fit far too many people.

He was a man in his thirties, with blond hair that put Bud’s to shame, and plate armour polished to such shine it made Oswald’s appear dull beside him. It was no ordinary plate, moving with his body like liquid, soundless, more like a second skin than armour. The metal glistened with golden swirls and runes. Hump could only imagine the enchantments that must be contained within to give it such a property. He seemed weightless, as if he were strolling around in silks rather than steel. A single piece was no doubt worth more than Hump had ever owned, though that wasn’t exactly saying much.

“About time, Oswald,” Lantheer said. The lithe, bushy haired man had deeply sunken eyes. He was armoured in a thick leather robe that was charred and burnt all over, with a chainmail chest piece overtop. He carried a thick, heavy staff that appeared just as suitable for bashing things over the head as it did for casting magic. He was a sorcerer, a Chosen wielder of magic. The runes along the shaft glowed orange like the sun, smouldering through a vein that ran all the way through, making clear his fire affinity. “What kept you?” He eyed the other man up and down and scowled. “And who’s this?”

Oswald frowned at the man. “It was nothing personal, I assure you. This is Kassius Malar.” He gestured toward the man at his side, who waved cheerfully.

Lantheer’s scowl was gone in an instant. If anything, he seemed to have gone slightly pale.

“Good to meet you all,” Kassius said. “My men and I arrived last night, and I just had to meet those poor villagers before we started today’s meeting. Oswald was kind enough to escort me. Nasty business, really is dreadful.”

There was a round of introductions. Whoever the man was, everyone except Hump seemed to recognise him and kept their tone respectful.

Hump glanced at Bud to find the knight grimacing. “You know this guy?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, I know him. Surely you’ve heard of the Malar?”

“As in Duke Malar?” Hump asked.

Bud nodded. “This is Prince Kassius, one of his sons.”

Hump chewed over this tidbit a moment, and his eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“He’s also nephew to the king,” Bud said. “He passed through our estate in Blackthorne less than a month ago.”

“You don’t sound happy to see him.”

“I’m not supposed to be here. If he realises it’s me, it will be just a matter of time before news—”

“Robert! Is that you?” Kassius called, strolling over.

“—gets back to my father,” Bud finished. Suddenly all eyes turned on him. He let out a sigh and relaxed his shoulders. “Good to see you again, Kassius.”

“It is you!” Kassius beamed. “I thought as much. What are you doing in that old armour? You had me thinking myself mad. You look like a bandit!”

Hump smirked. “Told you,” he muttered.

Bud smiled tightly, pointedly ignoring Hump. “I left in a bit of a hurry.”

“Did you now?” A sly smile crept upon Kassius’ face. “What did you do? Was it that girl, Sela? She seemed to be cosying up to you. And just after your engagement was announced. Your father must have been furious!”

“It was nothing like—”

“—Ah, don’t worry.” Kassius waved a dismissive hand. “We’ve all been there. Right, Oswald, you old fox? Bet you’ve ruffled up a few feathers in your time.”

“You do me a disservice,” Oswald said dryly. “I’m twenty-six years married. Anything like that is long forgotten.”

“Of course, of course,” Kassius said. “I suppose that’s the way of it.”

“What brings you here, Kassius?” Bud asked. “When you left us, you were on your way to Elenvine.”

“Indeed I was, but when news of the dungeon reached me, there was no turning away. Not when I thought the good people of Bledsbury might be in need. And of course, how could I miss out on the chance to claim the king’s prize for myself. Imagine it, Robert, presenting the dungeon core to his majesty personally. Think of the honour!”

And the rewards, Hump thought dryly. This man was as fake as a stage performer. Though he could relate, what’s honour worth compared to a big bag of coin.

“And we’re pleased to have you here!” Oswald said, doing his best to hide his impatience. “Especially now of all times. May I suggest we move on to business? Time is pressing.”

“Of course, of course,” Kassius said. “My apologies. I’m here to help. We all want the people of Hursdale safe. Please proceed.”

Oswald nodded his thanks. “Firstly, I believe congratulations are in order. Vamir, you and your team have done a great service for this community. Our scouts followed the markings you left behind and believe they have found a number of tunnels likely connected to the kobold den’s inner chambers. I believe this information will be vital to our swift victory going forward. Well done to you all.”

“The kingdom thanks you,” Kassius said, clapping his hands. Others joined him around the room. “When news reaches your father, Robert, he’ll be over the moon, I’m sure.”

“Thanks,” Bud said back, though there was no cheer to his tone.

Hump scratched the back of his head and tried to look gracious as he nodded his thanks toward the applauding audience. He was never much good at these things, and that was when he was surrounded by his own people. Ordinary people. Not Chosen and nobles. Celaine hardly reacted, but Vamir appeared as though he were completely at home. He shook Oswald’s hand with an easy smile.

“Surely that’s enough of this,” Lantheer said. “Tell us why you gathered us here. We’ve waited long enough. Get on with it.”

“My, my, aren’t you in a hurry,” Kassius chided.

Lantheer clenched his jaw. “I simply don’t want to waste any more time, seeing how little of it we seem to have.”

“Then we best get on with it,” Kassius said. “Go ahead, Oswald.”

Oswald glanced at the man and took a deep breath. This clearly wasn’t going as the man had planned. Even Hump could tell Kassius’ presence disrupted things.

“Very well.” Oswald strode up to the table and took his place standing at the centre. “I suspect this will come as no surprise to any of you, but there are more prisoners inside the dungeon. The villagers are irate, and they’ve asked for our help. I intend to give it to them.”

Joslin sighed reluctantly. She was a tall woman, dressed in heavy armour, though unlike Bud’s, hers wasn’t spotted with rust. If the rumours were to be believed, she was some hybrid form of cleric. A large shield rested against the table leg beside her foot, decorated with three mountains with snowy peaks. “How many prisoners are you suggesting?”

Oswald paused. “The villagers said that all of Hursdale was either killed or captured. That’s four hundred and eighty-three men, women, and children. I’m sure some escaped, but gods know how many were killed in the raid, but we can be certain many more are inside. Those saved yesterday had lost half their number by the time Vamir’s party reached them. If we see similar results elsewhere, optimistically, there could be over a hundred still alive inside.”

Hump tightened his grip on his staff. Hundreds of people locked up like cattle, waiting and watching their friends and families butchered around them. Their children…

“Emirai’s mercy,” Joslin muttered. She placed her palm to her heart then touched her forehead; the ritual blessing of the goddess of love and grief. “How could they have made it past our blockade?”

“If they have tunnels through the mountain pass, it would have cut the distance in half,” Oswald said. “It’s the only way they could have moved so many people without us noticing.”

“How do you propose we help them?” Lantheer asked. “We’re already launching assaults at the kobold fortifications. It’s just a matter of time before we breach the inner chambers.”

Oswald unrolled a large map and sprawled it across the table, putting brass weights on each of the corners. It depicted a series of tunnels and ovular chambers, much like the map Hump purchased from the field station the day prior, though this one had new additions farther into the dungeon’s depths.

Oswald pointed at a section with three large chambers about halfway down the map. “These are our most forward fortifications.” He jabbed a finger at one of the chambers lower down. “Here is where Vamir’s party found and rescued the villagers.” He pointed at a few nearby chambers. “These are the chambers our scouts have identified as likely entry points to the inner chambers during their work last night. Below that is the speculation of our cartographers based on what the villagers recounted of their time inside.”

There wasn’t much below where Hump had already been. A series of tunnels connecting to four chambers and a web of tunnels that veered off from them. Wherever they led, the map didn’t show.

“These two chambers are known to hold more prisoners,” he pointed at the two furthest to the bottom. “Three days ago, they each held as many as fifty. At the very least, I want to get them out.”

Joslin was frowning at the map, rubbing her chin. “This isn’t exactly a lot to go on. I take it these tunnels lead even deeper into the dungeon?”

Oswald nodded. “Correct.”

“Are they wide enough to launch an attack?” Joslin asked.

“Kobolds don’t like wide tunnels,” Lantheer said. “They will be single file and too short to stand in. And every damned step will be trapped to oblivion. There isn’t a chance in hell we can launch any substantial attack down them. It is too easy to defend and too easy to collapse a tunnel the moment our forces are noticed.”

“What do you suggest instead?” Oswald asked.

Lantheer regarded the map one last time and shrugged. “We could smoke them out.”

“Are you mad?” Joslin snapped. “That’s more likely to harm the villagers than the bloody kobolds. No. We should infiltrate the tunnels and extract the prisoners quietly. If it’s worked once, it can work again.”

“They are in the den,” Lantheer growled. “It’s suicide. And even if you got close, they’d simply slaughter the prisoners and scamper off into their tunnels.”

“Smoke is out of the question,” Oswald said. “Humans will be far more susceptible to that kind of attack. We won’t take actions that will harm the villagers. The chance of a team infiltrating the den undetected is nil. There will be a fight, there’s no avoiding that.”

“There won’t be a fight,” Lantheer snarled. “The men won’t have it. You forget, Oswald, they aren’t soldiers. They won’t die for the cause. They’re here for the coin.”

“The villagers have offered up a reward,” Oswald said, but from the expression on his face, Hump could tell he didn’t think that would be enough of an incentive either.

Lantheer laughed. “I’m sure they have. How many sheep are they offering? Or is it a barrel of their best wine? I’m sure we could find a man or two that would die for a few of them.”

Oswald’s frown hardened.

“You’re a Chosen man, Lantheer,” Joslin said. “Grow a pair.”

Lantheer turned those hard eyes on the woman. “Don’t push me.”

“I’m just calling it how I see it,” Joslin said, meeting his gaze without the slightest hesitation. She folded her arms, the metal of her armour clinking as she did. “There are people in need, and you’re too afraid to help them.”

“Are you looking to start something?” Lantheer growled. “There’s no need for all this prancing around. Just say it. You White Peaks are all the same. All high and mighty until the tough decisions come along. I won’t let my people go to their deaths on a whim.”

Joslin snorted. “You’ll wait up here instead, will you? Wait until we find the dungeon core, then sneak in and steal it from under our noses, just like in Varbose.”

The other guild leaders added their shouts until the entire tent was hurling insults back and forth.

Hump leant closer to Bud. “This isn’t working out,” he whispered, softly enough that just the two of them could hear.

“No,” Bud growled. “Not at all. There isn’t time for this!”

Hump’s eyes widened, and he glanced back to the rest of the room. Everyone was staring at them. “You, erm, forgot to keep your voice down there, Bud.”

The knight ignored him and stepped closer to the table. “There are people dying in there, and you’re arguing like children.”

There were murmurs around the room, but if anyone agreed, they didn’t dare voice it. Oswald watched silently, face wrinkled.

“Remember where you stand, boy,” Lantheer growled back. “Monsters taking prisoners is nothing new. We can’t always help them.”

“I won’t stand here and do nothing,” Bud said, not turning away. “Not while there are people that need our help. We’re going to do more than wait here and squabble.”

“Then go on in there and get yourself killed,” Lantheer said. “I won’t stop you. But I certainly won’t send my people to die with you.”

“Is that it then?” Bud asked, looking around at the others. “You’ll do nothing?”

“We’ll do what we’re already doing,” Lantheer growled. “Attack their fortifications, clear the dungeon as quickly as we can, and save those we can save.”

“You didn’t see them,” Hump found himself saying without thinking. He stepped up to Bud’s side. “They were held like cattle—worse even—their cages were too small for them to stand or lie down, so they cramped inside, hugging their knees to their chests. Children, women, elderly, all locked up in full view of each other, waiting to be butchered while their friends and families watched. Then they were sent to the boiling pools, from where the stench of stewing meat drifted in. These people were trapped in hell, and there could be hundreds more still inside. So perhaps you could spend a few more moments trying to figure something out before deciding it’s impossible.”

When Hump finished, his heart was racing. He felt out of breath, so he forced himself to breathe deeply to try and calm down.

There was silence. Hump felt all eyes on him, and only after a moment did it set in just who those eyes belonged to. Party leaders, Chosen, Overseer Oswald, and a bloody prince.

He gulped, then said quietly. “Well, I just wanted to offer my piece, seeing as I’m here and all.”

FOURTEEN

OFFER FROM ROYALTY

Hump stared around the room anxiously. You just had to open your mouth… The old man would have clapped him over the head for being such an idiot.

The Blackthornes may have only been a minor house, but Bud was still of nobility. He had a right to speak. Hump had nothing, yet still, he’d thought to offer his head up to the chopping block. One word from these people would ruin him. No guild in the kingdom would take him.

“And there it is,” Kassius said softly, something very sinister to his tone. He breathed deeply, as if soaking in the silence. Savouring it.

You should have kept your mouth shut! Hump screamed at himself.

“The cowardice of the Chosen,” Kassius continued. “One has to wonder just what you were chosen for.” He smirked, then turned to Hump. “Who are you, boy?”

Hump gulped again. His heart was pounding so hard he wondered if someone might hear. “Hump, sir—Lord… Er, Prince Kassius. I’m a wizard.”

“A wizard?” Kassius said delightfully, turning back to the rest of the room. “Hah! The lot of you should be ashamed. A boy wizard with more courage than the Chosen few. Surely having such power gives you responsibility to protect the people of this kingdom.”

Only Lantheer dared to speak. “We can’t protect anyone if we’re dead.”

“Or alive, apparently,” Kassius chided. “Beaten by a bunch of stupid lizards.”

“Enough of this,” the sorcerer snapped. “I won’t stand here and be insulted. Not by anyone! Oswald, this council is going nowhere. If no feasible plan is proposed, I will take my leave. There’s a dungeon to clear after all.”

“You will go nowhere until we have made a decision,” Oswald said. “Not if you wish to remain within my encampment. I’ve given my word that we will help them, and while I am Overseer of this dungeon, my word is law.”

“Then surely you have some idea to offer,” Lantheer sneered.

Oswald sighed and massaged his brow. “What I’d like to do is gather up every Chosen in the encampment and force our way in.”

There was a pause. Hump was no tactician, but even he recognised it wasn’t much of an idea.

“It could work,” Joslin offered. “With Chosen leading the attack, we might be able to make significant progress before they start collapsing tunnels.”

“Or until they kill the prisoners,” Lantheer added. “Then the whole operation would be for nothing anyway.”

“What if we attacked this way instead?” Vamir said. He stepped up to the table, ignoring the glances from the other party leaders, and pointed at one of the kobold chambers near the surface and on the opposite side of the map.

“What would that accomplish?” Lantheer asked.

“A distraction,” Vamir said. He looked at Oswald. “Do you know what’s here?”

Oswald stared down at it. “It’s one of the entrances to the den. Heavily fortified and heavily defended.”

“Perfect,” Vamir said. “This is where we should attack. If we make the kobolds think we are attempting to break into the rest of the den, it will force their defenders to the front line. In the meantime, a collection of parties sweeps through the tunnels at the rear where we found the villagers yesterday. Whatever defenders the kobolds have left behind will be spread too thin to defend all the tunnels at once. The only choice they would have is to pull back forces from the front line, in which case we break through the defences there instead.”

“I take it you volunteer to be part of the rear attack team then?” Lantheer asked.

“Of course,” Vamir said. “My skills would be far better suited to that than a frontal assault.”

“It could work,” Oswald said. “We’d need parties that could function independently. Parties strong enough to handle any remaining kobolds alone, and with the capability to advance without succumbing to traps. Three parties would be able to cover the main points of entry identified by our scouts.”

“If we assign our Chosen to the rear, we may struggle with the frontal assault,” Joslin said.

“You don’t have to win,” Vamir said. “Just draw their attention and keep them occupied.”

“And what of the prisoners?” Joslin said. “The kobolds might choose to kill them when they realise they don’t have the forces to defend.”

“One doesn’t slaughter cattle unless there is no alternative,” Vamir said. “We just have to do enough damage before they have the chance. Though, of course, there’s a lot of risk.”

“Unavoidable risk,” Oswald added. “The villagers are dead if we don’t get them out. We already have the kobolds on the back foot. Their numbers are dwindling, and this may very well be our chance to finish them off.”

“The men won’t do it,” Lantheer said. “Not for nothing. You’re talking war.”

“It’s hardly war.” Kassius laughed. “This is a skirmish at best. A skirmish with creatures too scared to face us in open combat, half our size, and equipped with wooden sticks.”

Lantheer’s cheek twitched. “Of course, Prince Kassius. However, the men may not see it that way. They’re afraid. Have you ever seen someone step on a spike trap? They don’t kill. Not immediately. No, the kobolds cover them in rot, leaving the surgeons no choice but to remove the limb before infection sets in.”

Kassius frowned. “You paint a… disturbing image.”

“I apologise for being so brash,” Lantheer said, “but it should be disturbing.”

“Indeed,” Kassius said. He paced back and forth, arms clasped behind his back, liquid armour shimmering. “Very well. I shall offer a silver coin for every kobold slain.”

Hump balked. That was a lot of money. How many did I kill yesterday? At least ten, right? That alone was enough to make the trip more than worth it, even without the additional heartstones they’d recovered.

Lantheer glared at him. “You cannot be serious.”

“I’ll guarantee it myself,” Kassius said. “Do you think that might motivate them?”

Lantheer’s nostrils flared, Hump almost expected smoke to sprout from the fire-wielder.

“It is for the people to decide,” Oswald said. “As you said, they are not soldiers. They are here for wealth and glory, and it seems we have both to offer.

Lantheer finally let out a reluctant sigh. “Their blood will be on your hands, Overseer. If this goes wrong, the guild will hear of it.”

“If it goes wrong and I live through it, I’ll tell them myself,” Oswald said.

“It’s decided then,” Kassius said cheerfully. “Very good. My men and I shall be part of the rear attack.”

Oswald took a moment to choose his words carefully. “My lord, I’m not sure that would be wise. The dangers—”

“Fortunately, Oswald, that is not for you to decide,” Kassius said. “I assure you, I have the skills to match a Chosen, and I’ve a Chosen paladin in my charge. We’ll get those prisoners out.”

Hump narrowed his eyes. So, Kassius might not be the pompous arsehole he’d first thought, or was this just a political ploy? He’d already mentioned he was on his way to the capital to meet the king, and this would make for quite the tale.

The briefing moved on to talks of strategy and other more mundane topics. Timing of the attack would have to be perfect if they were to make full use of the distraction. Oswald would be overseeing the frontal assault personally. While Lantheer had the most firepower amongst them, and Joslin was practically unstoppable in a fight, there was no arguing with Oswald’s tactical sense. He had his position for good reason, after all, and he was unbiased. He could make the two rivals work together.

When the meeting concluded, the leaders departed to make preparations, and Oswald had given them little time. If they were to save as many of the villagers as possible, they couldn’t wait, so Oswald declared the attack would start at noon. That left a little under three hours before the largest assault of Bledsbury Dungeon was to begin.

As Hump left the command tent with his own party, Kassius called after them. “Robert! You’ll join me, won’t you? Help me get the dungeon core, and you can ride with me yourself to meet the king. You’d be hailed as a hero upon your return to Blackthorne. Whatever business you left behind will simply be swept under the rug by news such as that.”

“As tempting an offer as that is, I’m afraid I’ve already agreed to follow Vamir’s lead,” Bud said. “His results speak for themself.”

“That they do. That they do.” Kassius turned to Hump. “What of you, Wizard?”

Hump blinked. “Me?”

“Of course!” Kassius laughed. “Do you see any other wizards here? Who else would I mean? Well, I suppose I’ve dabbled in the art, though I always found myself more drawn to the blade.” He rested a hand upon the pommel of the blade at his hip, where a ruby the size of an eye glistened.

It took all of Hump’s training to keep his jaw from dropping on the spot. “You want me to join you?” he managed.

“Indeed,” Kassius said. “I know the struggle of being an ordinary amongst Chosen better than any. I have a soft spot for those that try to break free of the hand the gods dealt them. A wizard requires nurturing. And after the heroism you displayed just now, I think you deserve it.”

Hump stared at him for a second in silence, stunned. He’d never expected an offer like that, not if he’d worked all his life. To be the personal wizard of a prince was beyond even his wildest dreams. It almost sounded too good to be true. He glanced at Bud, but the knight gave no indication of his thoughts on the matter. When he met Celaine’s eyes, she scowled at him and looked away.

“Surely the decision is simple,” Kassius said. “I haven’t got all day.”

“You just caught me a little off guard, is all,” Hump said. “A few days ago, I was wondering if I’d even find a party.”

“Then there’s no question,” Kassius said. “It’s decided.”

“I…” Hump floundered for words but couldn’t find them. How do you turn down royalty? Why would you? This was a man that could give him everything he’d ever dreamed of: fame, riches, power. He would no longer be just a hedge wizard, but a wizard with a liege lord. A person that mattered.

Except… there had to be a reason Bud was so antagonistic toward him. The knight never had a bad thing to say about anyone, however, his dislike of the prince was palpable. It was difficult to trust anyone in this line of work, and he’d found someone who had his back. Ultimately, if Bud decided to forgo Kassius’ invitation… well, his gut told him something was off. It was all too good to be true.

When Hump turned back to Prince Kassius, his mind was made up. He’d chosen his party already, at least for this dungeon. “Thank you—” Hump began.

“—Hump was instrumental to our success in the dungeon yesterday,” Vamir intervened. “As you’ll undoubtedly see when we reach the inner chambers once more.”

“Instrumental, was he?” Kassius asked.

Vamir nodded, then scratched his chin. “Honestly, I’d be rather perturbed if we lost him before this expedition, and I fear it may hinder us. Our parties will be working closely together, I’m sure, Prince Kassius. You’d be doing us a great service if you would postpone your offer until after the dungeon is cleared.”

“High praise for a wizard of such an age,” Kassius said, the corners of his lips twisting upward. “Now I’m even more interested. Very well. Hump, remain with your party and come seek me once we have the dungeon core in hand. The offer will stand, and I bid you make use of it while it does. I doubt I need to tell you this, but my resources would make all the difference to a wizard like you.”

“Thank you, milord,” Hump said. “Your offer is too generous.”

Kassius made a dismissive gesture. “Anyway, I must see to the preparation of my own. Good luck to you.”

They watched him leave to where his tent had been erected. It towered over the ones around it, vibrant red and black stripes decorated the outside, and an overhang had been set up above the entrance.

“Well, wasn’t that fun,” Celaine said once he was gone. “To think we were almost rid of you.” She turned to Vamir. “Why do we have to keep him?”

Vamir shrugged. “Wizards are handy. Saves us needing to carry a light.”

“Is that all I am to this party?” Hump said. “A glorified lantern.”

“Pretty much,” Vamir said.

“Except lanterns don’t complain all day,” Celaine said.

Hump sighed and looked to Bud for help.

“To be fair,” Bud said, “you do get very shiny when you cast spells.”

“Alright, Robert!” Hump snapped. “Good to see whose side you’re on.”

Bud grinned.

FIFTEEN

POTION MAKING

The field station was packed when Hump arrived. News of the expedition had reached the rest of the encampment, and everyone sought what extra supplies they’d need. Following the announcement of Kassius’ reward, spirits were high. A silver coin per kobold slain was quite the hefty prize after all.

Vamir put Hump in charge of their supplies and provided him a few gold coins he could spend on some of the more exotic potions. Along with that, Hump had his share of the heartstones from yesterday: six small ones from the kobolds and a silver coin as his share from the salamanders. It was enough that he hoped to be able to pick up a few of the things he’d forgone in the Bledsbury herbalist when he’d lacked the coin. Though looking at the stalls, opportunities looked slim.

To the uninitiated, the market appeared to have everything one might need, from potions to medical supplies to weapons and armour. Though compared to some of the other encampments Hump had seen, this one was lacking. Bledsbury Dungeon was still too young for the specialist supplies to have arrived, so he’d have to make do.

First up, a light source. As much as he enjoyed his role as a human torch, he decided another solution wouldn’t be amiss. Like Bud’s Frostfire, Vamir and Celaine likely had their own methods for light, but any villagers they found would have nothing. At least this way, he could make sure nobody was left stumbling around alone in the dark.

The small mercies, Hump thought bitterly. He wondered if the children would ever get over the trauma of what they’d seen inside. He’d had a rough upbringing. There were times before the old man found him when he’d had to steal to eat, or had his own food stolen by the older boys. Beatings were merely a part of life. Yet it was nothing compared to the horrors the children of Hursdale must have glimpsed within the dungeon’s depths.

Hump brought out his spellbook and opened it to the centre page. It rarely opened to the same page twice, but at least it usually found what he wanted. This time it wasn’t so helpful.

SPELLBOOK

Spark

Evocation | Chant | Tier 0 | Range: Short

Description

Convert essence into heat, igniting flammable material.

Notes

y.206 – Nithrand – The most basic of fire magic, handy for producing a flame in any weather. Master this before experimenting with more potent fire spells.

“Not helpful at all,” Hump muttered. “I need a light potion. I know you have one, my master made it often, or is that restricted too?”

The next page was titled Unicorn light.

Hump rolled his eyes. “Where am I supposed to find a bloody unicorn? Not that potion, the other one.” This time the page turned on its own.

Potion Making

Bottle of Crystal Light

Description

A concoction that when shaken will produce a clear, bright light. Sudden exposure to the air will result in a blinding flash of light.

Ingredients:

Powder of Heartstone

Liquid Essence

Luminous Shroom

Snail Slime

Mammalian Blood (any species)

Notes

y.751 – Ajax – A beautiful use of heartstones that I discovered on my visit to the desert city, Sisila. There they stand lanterns on every street corner, filled with this very elixir. Never have I seen a city so bright at night, nor any common recipe so closely guarded. But a wizard has his ways.

“Thank you,” Hump said. “Why was that so difficult?”

Crystal Light was a clever little potion that didn’t take up much space or require particularly unusual ingredients, though finding enough snail slime might be tricky here. He could kind of wrap his head around the rest of it: Liquid essence was made by distilling essence water and obviously acted as the fuel for the potion; heartstone powder would seal in the magical properties; luminous shrooms at least glowed in the dark, so were somewhat relevant; and blood would act as a catalyst to activate the potion. Though honestly, in what world did snail slime have anything to do with light?

All that, along with the hardy glass vials he’d purchased to store them in, came to five silver—a quarter of a gold coin already down the drain. It amazed Hump how little so much money could buy.

In the end, Hump left the field station with the ingredients to brew a few useful potions for the rest of the party and various bits for himself. He’d found a couple of vials of Essence Elixirs, nothing special—if the old man saw them, he’d no doubt turn his nose up—but Hump didn’t have the luxury of choice. It would have taken him days of intense brewing to make them himself. He didn’t have days. He hardly had an hour.

He’d spent two gold at the end on Wizardfire. If there was time, he would have brewed it himself and saved himself some coin. It was a potent brew that filled the body with heat and magic that no ordinary human could survive. He’d only drunk it once, back when he was younger and stupider and had the brilliant idea of sneaking a vial off his master. It nearly killed him, and the old man was far from pleased to have to cover the cost of a new vial.

Today, it was a necessity. A wizard’s weakness came with his staying power. It was a long way down to the inner chambers, and Hump was betting on a drawn-out trip. In a pinch, he could pull off a few big spells to cause some serious damage, but using up all his power in one go was a sure-fire way of winding up useless. Worse than useless, if he pushed himself too much, he would put himself at serious risk of hypothermia and frostbite. With a vial of Wizardfire and two Essence Elixirs, he could at least extend his usefulness.

He checked on Prancer on his way out, giving the horse an apple. He was well-tended for at the encampment’s stable, courtesy of the Adventurer’s Guild. Members went free, so once again, Hump exploited his master’s medallion. Just one more lie on the list. It was one of the many services they provided for their guild members, along with equipment storage, and, of course, funerals. Free of charge. Everything an aspiring adventurer needed.

The encampment was in full motion now. Usually, dungeoneers were left to operate independently, but the Overseer’s orders were in; every able body was to be a part of the attack. The camp rang with steel as the smithies and armourers set about last minute maintenance.

Bud was sitting by their campfire, sharpening his sword. His armour lay in pieces on the ground around him, wiped clean, but without the dirt and grime to cover it, the rust simply came through stronger. “You get everything you need?” he asked.

“Just about,” Hump said. He sat down before the firepit and piled up some wood, then gathered a sliver of his will and muttered, “Spark.” A small flame burst into life. It was about the limits of his capabilities with fire. His spellbook classified his affinity with the element as ‘Poor,’ and besides that, fire spells were too expensive for a hedge wizard. They were a closely guarded secret by those that had them, and the kingdom restricted their circulation due to how destructive they could be. Only official vendors like the Wizard Society could legally sell them, and those didn’t come cheap.

Hump idly began to lay out his ingredients. “So… your name is Robert, huh?” he said to Bud.

“Robert’s my given name,” Bud said. “Though it’s my father’s name too, so my family and friends just call me Bud. It’s what I’m used to.”

“I always thought it was a strange tradition to name sons after their fathers,” Hump said. “Doesn’t it get confusing? And why bother? There’s so many other names out there.”

Bud nodded seriously. “Oh yeah, it’s awful!”

“And Bud of Blackthorne has a way better ring to it,” Hump said.

“You wouldn’t believe the chaos a name can cause,” Bud said. “Letters delivered to the wrong room, meals going to the wrong person. For a while, my mother thought that my fiancée was for my father!”

Hump looked up from his potions. “No way! Really?”

“No, you dolt.” Bud laughed.

Hump laughed too. “Gods know with you nobles. The life of a common man is so much simpler.” He filled up a small pot with the essence water he’d purchased and set it on the fire to boil. Then began grinding the luminous shrooms into a paste. “I never had to deal with any bloody royals before I met you.”

“You say that as if it were a bad thing,” Bud said.

“I still can’t tell if it is,” Hump said. “What’s the story behind you and Prince Kassius? I was sceptical at first, but he didn’t seem like a bad guy. Did something happen between you both?”

Bud stroked the whetstone along the edge of his sword, and the air rang with the sound of scraping metal. “He doesn’t like Chosen, and he doesn’t care who knows.”

“I hardly noticed,” Hump said sarcastically. “Surely that’s not all of it. He seemed to like you.”

Bud shrugged. “Maybe he does. That doesn’t make him any less reckless. It’s a dangerous path to go against the will of the gods and not a path I wish to join him on.”

“Aren’t I doing that too?” Hump said. “Wizards manipulate the world, control things the gods created. We try to replicate the blessings granted to their Chosen; powers that were never intended for us.”

“Maybe,” Bud said. “Or maybe the gods designed the world in a way to make it possible to do as you do. I believe that it’s the intent behind the use of power that the gods truly care about. You’re a good person. You proved that in the dungeon yesterday, and in the command tent. That’s what matters.”

“And Kassius is not?” Hump asked.

Bud glanced around nervously, checking for anyone nearby, then whispered, “I didn’t say that.”

“Then why did you turn him down so quickly? He offered you a chance to meet the king. I don’t know much about royalty, but that sounds pretty impressive as far as incentives go.”

“I don’t think I was clear enough,” Bud said. “Kassius doesn’t just disrespect Chosen, he hates them. He hates the gods. People know it, but he’s a prince, the son of Duke Malar. There’s nothing they can do. He feels the gods forsook him out of spite when they did not choose him on his name day, and now he wants nothing more than to see the Pantheon burn. Even if I did show up with Kassius to meet the king, I don’t think the king would be pleased to see me.” He said it so quietly that Hump could barely hear from right beside him. “Kassius came to Blackthorne Manor to see where our loyalties lie. We are part of the Dukedom of Malar, and there are rumours circulating of a rift between him and his father.”

Hump’s eyes widened. “This sounds a little out of my league.”

“Gods, it’s out of my league too,” Bud said. “And my father wants me to marry! I’m barely seventeen.”

“You’re serious?” Hump said.

“It’s not unusual to marry at—”

“Not that!” Hump snapped. He leant toward his friend. “He really wants to overthrow the king?”

“What?” Bud snapped. “No. No, definitely not the king,” Bud said assuredly. “But the duke… It’s not public knowledge, but Duke Malar has been ill for a long time. My father believes Kassius is trying to garner support for him to take the dukedom in place of his brothers.” Bud shrugged. “It’s probably just a rumour. People like to speculate, and Kassius is the youngest of his brothers and the only one amongst them that was not a Chosen.”

“Doesn’t sound farfetched to me,” Hump said. “It would be hard not to see it as spite to be the only one forsaken.”

“The gods have a plan for us all,” Bud said. “Kassius may not be Chosen, but he is still a prince. I wouldn’t blame you for taking his offer.”

“I’ll admit, I was more than a little tempted. Vamir bought me some time. Maybe I will still accept the offer after all this is over.”

Bud watched him for a moment. “Why didn’t you take his offer? He’d be able to give you everything you need—access to spells, money, teachers. If you work long enough for him, perhaps he might even give you that castle you always wanted.”

“I wanted to hear your side of it first,” Hump said. “A prince for a liege lord would be great, amazing even, but I don’t want to deal with any skeletons in the closet.”

“And what do you think now after what I’ve told you?”

Hump looked away from him and back at his equipment. “I’m a hedge wizard. I go where the coin takes me. And rumour is only rumour. He seems passionate about saving those imprisoned in the dungeon, which makes me think he’s not a bad guy. That’s about as much as I can expect out of a prince. Besides, I can understand being angry at the gods.”

He added the mushroom paste to each of the vials, a pinch of heartstone powder, a droplet of snail slime, and then filled it up to the top with essence water. While that rested, he set about working on his next potion, Second Life.

“Maybe,” Bud said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “Something about him makes me feel… I don’t know. He gives me goosebumps.”

Hump arched an eyebrow. “Goosebumps?”

“Yeah.” Bud nodded. “Just whatever you do, be careful of him.”

“I will be. My gut says the same thing.”

“Same thing about what?” Celaine asked, appearing from behind the nearby tents and wandering up to their campfire.

“Erm…” Hump opened and closed his mouth as he tried to figure out what to say, but he felt as if he were thinking through a cloud.

“You look like a fish. What’s the big deal?” Celaine’s green eyes moved between them suspiciously. “Why do I feel like I’ve just walked in on something I shouldn’t have.”

Hump snorted. He stoppered the vials full of the components for Crystal Light with cork that had been soaking in pig’s blood, then dropped it into the pot of boiling essence water where it rested half submerged. Bud carried on sharpening his sword.

“Well?” she asked.

“Careful, Celaine,” Hump said. “You almost sound like you’re interested in what we have to say.”

“Funny that.” Celaine smiled sweetly. “You sound exactly like you don’t want any lunch.” She held up a bread roll stuffed full of meat and cheese. “Did he sound like that to you too, Bud?”

Bud looked at the food, then at Hump, then back at the food. For a long moment, he seemed to be deliberating something, and then he nodded with the wisdom to match any wizard. “He did sound rather rude, didn’t he? He’s been in a bit of a mood all morning. I’m sorry you had to walk in on that.”

Celaine grinned and handed Bud one of the bread rolls. “What a shame. To think this will have to go to waste.”

Bud took a bite. “Mhm. He’s really quite self-centred,” he said, chewing happily.

Hump stared at his friend with his mouth wide open. Never had a betrayal stung so much. “I guess neither of you will be wanting the potions I worked so hard to make,” he grumbled. “That’s fine. I’ll just keep these lifesaving potions to myself.”

“I think you hurt his feelings,” Celaine said.

Bud took another bite. “So worth it. I didn’t have any breakfast.”

Hump lifted one of the vials from the boiling pot and dangled it before Celaine’s eyes.

Celaine sighed. “Fine. How about a trade? Just because you’re looking extra pitiful this morning.”

Hump frowned. A bread roll for potions wasn’t exactly a good deal, but he was hungry, and the food did look good… “Fine.” He picked up the second vial too and handed them both to her. “The brown one is Crystal Light. I know it doesn’t look like much now, but when shaken vigorously, it will light up for about thirty minutes.”

“That’s handy. No more human lantern.”

“Exactly. The red is called Second Life. It’s a combination of a blood clotter, Pain Away, and a strength potion. A recipe one of my predecessors picked up from the berserkers of the Iced Meadow. If you’re hurt, drink it, and it will keep you in the fight. It won’t do much for injuries, but it will dull the pain and lessen the bleeding until you reach real medical care.”

Celaine held them up to the light, studying it. “That actually sounds useful.”

“Of course, it’s useful.” Hump smirked. “I’m a wizard after all. Now give me my lunch.”

“A hedge wizard,” she corrected, holding out the bread roll. “And the only one in the kingdom dumb enough not to accept Prince Kassius’ offer on the spot.”

Hump snatched it from her and took a bite. “Are you kidding? If I’d accepted, I’d be missing out on all this fun.”

Celaine smiled. “What’s the shiny potion?” She nodded toward Hump’s open potion pouch.

“Wizardfire. Something in case of emergencies. As shiny as it looks, it’s probably best none of you drink that one.”

They had finished eating when Vamir returned. Despite spending the morning in strategy meetings with the other party leaders, and a dungeon expedition fast approaching, the man was as calm and collected as ever.

“Well, children,” he said cheerfully, “everyone ready to go?”

Bud and Celaine nodded, but Hump hesitated.

“Actually,” Hump said, “before we do this, I want to know why you didn’t tell us you were both Chosen.”

Celaine and Vamir both stared at him, silent.

Bud’s mouth dropped open. “Wait! What?” He turned to Celaine and gawked. “You’re Chosen?”

SIXTEEN

ONCE MORE INTO THE DEEPS

SPELLBOOK

On the Study of Magic

‘Knowledge can be told but understanding must be discovered. There is no shortcut to power, and those that seek one will find themselves lost along the way.’

– A quote of my master’s, y.262, Nithrand.

“When did you notice?” Vamir asked. He didn’t sound surprised. If anything, he was indifferent.

“I saw something was off when we encountered the bonefiends,” Hump said. “And yesterday when I saw you using your skills it was obvious. I don’t get it. Why hide it? Being Chosen is a good thing, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Vamir’s eyes flicked to Bud.

Hump read the message loud and clear. “You’re not Chosen by a god of the Pantheon, are you?”

“No,” he said reluctantly. “We are the Chosen of Owalyn, Goddess of the Hunt.”

“Gods above,” Bud said. “You and Celaine shouldn’t be here. If the church found out, you would both be tried for heresy.”

“Precisely why we didn’t advertise it,” Vamir said. “Will this be a problem for you both?”

“A problem?” Bud said, aghast. “I… I don’t know. I should report you.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Celaine growled. “Are you kidding me? After we rescued those people yesterday, you’d betray us?”

“You’re not from here,” Bud said. “The law demands that you declare yourself in our lands.”

“Relax, Celaine,” Vamir said. “There’s no need to turn this into something it’s not.”

She jabbed a finger at Bud. “He’s threatening to report us.”

“He won’t,” Vamir said. “Right, Bud?”

Bud frowned. “If it’s found out that I’m conspiring with heretics, it could mean besmirching the honour of my family.”

Celaine scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “We follow a god outside of the Pantheon; we’re not death cultists. If your family honour is worth more than the lives of those villagers, then I don’t want you in our party anyway.”

“It’s not,” Bud said quietly. “You’re good people. You’re here to help. That’s what matters.” He rubbed his face, and Hump could see the decision on his face. “That’s what matters,” he reiterated. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted that way. Of course I won’t report you.”

Celaine gave a curt nod. “Good. Then I suppose you can stay too.”

Bud smiled. “Sorry.”

Celaine waved the comment away.

“So why are you here?” Hump asked. “You must be aware of the danger. What’s worth the risk?”

“Our business is ours,” Vamir said. “I think we’ve proven to you that you can trust us. If that’s not good enough, it’s probably not too late to take up Kassius’ offer. I won’t stop you.”

“It’s not exactly a big deal for me,” Hump said. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve partied up with so-called heretics.” Bud gave him a shocked look, and Hump shrugged. “The gods don’t like me, so why should I give a damn?”

“Good,” Vamir said. “Then we can move forward.”

“That wasn’t why I brought this up anyway,” Hump said. “If we’re to fight together, we need to understand each other’s abilities. You need to tell us about your blessings. Where do your talents lie?”

“That’s a fair point,” Vamir said. “Truthfully, I hadn’t planned for anything that would require my full capabilities when I invited you to party with us. It seems this dungeon is going to be more demanding than I expected, so it’s good you brought this up now. I am a ranger of Owalyn, my skills lying in both sword and bow.”

“I’m a huntress,” Celaine said. “Archery and stealth are my focus.”

“Okay then,” Hump said, nodding. “I’m glad we got that sorted.”

“We’re all good then?” Vamir asked.

“Yeah. Here,” Hump said, taking out two more potions. “I made these for you.”

“Crystal Light!” Vamir said, smiling, holding it up to the sun. “I’ve never seen it outside of Sisila.”

“You’ve heard of it?” Hump asked.

Vamir nodded. “The entire—”

“Entire city is lit up,” Hump finished. He patted his spellbook. “All in the book. One of my predecessors learnt the mixture on a visit.”

“Impressive,” Vamir said. “They don’t hand out that recipe to just anyone.” He held up the red vial. “What’s this one?”

“Second Life,” Hump told him, explaining its use. “Hopefully, you won’t need it, but it’s there if we run into more trouble than we can handle.”

“Very useful.” Vamir pocketed it and looked over them. “Though I’m certain I gave you coin enough for more than just this.”

“You did,” Hump agreed. “I’ve got basic healing elixirs, antidotes, Essence Elixirs; everything I could think of.”

Vamir nodded approvingly. “Perfect. Then if there’s no more questions, we should get going.” When nobody said anything, he continued, “Very good. Onward to battle.”

When noon arrived, Hump’s head was a mess of worry and nerves.

They were gathered outside the dungeon’s entrance, in the no-man’s-land between the dungeon and the wooden walls and stakes that protected the encampment, along with the other parties participating in the assault. A hundred-odd dungeoneers. Amongst them, only nine were Chosen, not including those in Hump’s party, and only a few more than that were bronze rank.

It wasn’t much. Oswald knew it. Hump knew it. And the rest of them sure as hell knew it too. And they were about to force their way into a dungeon in a single afternoon. Despite that, spirits were high. Supplies were still being carried to the front; arrows, food, and large wooden shields that could be set up as temporary barriers. Oswald made clear their goal was not to destroy the kobold defence, only to distract it. It was business as usual. Get in, kill a bunch of monsters, and get out. The trick was not dying along the way.

The rear assault team would consist of three parties, one for each of the larger chambers the scouts had discovered. With Kassius’ and Hump’s already decided on, the third slot was filled by a party led by Meera Laurcroff. A Chosen paladin who wielded a metal spear, with a spearhead almost as long as a sword. She was the only Chosen amongst them, but each of them looked like veterans.

They were a good choice, but that didn’t make Hump any less nervous. There was a reason so many Chosen were being committed to the rear attack—it was going to be dangerous. Each of them was expected to find a way into the inner chambers and get the prisoners out. Down in the depths of the dungeon, they would be on their own, with reinforcements over an hour away and no way to contact them. Each party would have their own tunnels and chambers to clear, their own challenges to face. They would be alone. Hump had never been on such a dangerous quest. It was only the last couple of years that his master had allowed him to experience any real combat at all, and only in an environment that he was in control of.

Hump couldn’t afford to let fear get the better of him. A wizard’s mind was their weapon. Sure, he had his staff and potions. He even had a few tricks up his sleeves he could pull off in a pinch. But it would all mean nothing if he were to let fear distract him.

‘A wizard must be resolute.’ Hump heard the old man’s voice in that condescending tone he always had. He imagined him stabbing his finger toward him as clearly as if he were there before his eyes. ‘The world will not move to the will of a wizard that doubts himself.’

It was hard to believe it had been less than a week since he passed. The gods had taken him far too soon. But that was how things usually went in this line of business, and dwelling on it just put one’s own life at risk. No matter how much Hump cursed or prayed to the gods, it wouldn’t bring him back. Besides, they weren’t listening anyway. That line of thinking would just leave him with dangerous thoughts in his head. It left him emotional, and he couldn’t afford that as a wizard.

Hump needed a clear mind.

He drew a deep breath, closed his eyes, and turned his focus inward, imaging a river coursing around his body, connecting every part of him. In it, he channelled all his fear, all his anger, all his doubt… and he let the currents sweep it away. His mind emptied.

His master called the technique the River and Waves. At one point, Hump had been forced to train the exercise daily. It brought clarity to the mind and calm to the body—two things vital for a spell to succeed. Anger, passion, hate, love; they lit the soul up with the power to change the world. But just as they did that, they clouded reason and judgement. If it went too far, the results could be disastrous.

It was a matter of control. Would the wizard control the magic, or the magic control the wizard? There were many tales of those who lost themselves to such power, even amongst the Chosen. As reason is lost, instinct takes over, driven by the forces of the power at work. The minds of those that fell too deeply were left mad, puppets of the elements they wielded, warlocks that had lost the part of themselves that made them human.

Hump didn’t forget the cruelty of the kobolds or the poor people he was trying to protect. He simply pushed those thoughts into the river. A place where they wouldn’t distract him, so he could focus on all that was before him.

When Hump opened his eyes, he felt resolute. His heart was calm, and his mind was alert. He was ready.

It wasn’t much longer until Vamir joined them. “Oswald’s given the order to prepare to depart. It won’t be long now.”

“Anything new?” Hump asked.

“Just more of the same,” Vamir said. “Scouts found kobolds down six of the tunnels near the three we’re targeting. They reckon chances of finding villagers are high.”

“Which chamber did we get?” Bud asked.

Vamir grinned. “The biggest one.”

There was no speech. No final words from the Overseer. They were as prepared as they were going to get, so Oswald gave the order, and they moved in. The echoes of the other parties of dungeoneers followed Hump far into the depths of the dungeon, growing more distant as time passed. The clanking of armour, the clicking of cartwheels that were used to carry down supplies to the front. Hump’s group had little of that. They were travelling light.

“I thought they’d send a few more Chosen?” Celaine whispered to Hump.

Kassius had introduced them to Meera Laurcroff’s party before they’d gone inside. Other than Meera, there were no other Chosen among the rest of her party, though they consisted of battle-hardened dungeoneers.

“Don’t worry,” Hump said. “Oswald wouldn’t have selected them if he didn’t trust they had the skills to pull it off. You don’t become a middle-aged adventurer if you’re bad at the job. I’ve seen parties like this pull off feats that would make you balk.”

“Oh yeah?” Celaine said curiously. “Like what?”

Hump shrugged. “It doesn’t take god-given powers to slay a horde of undead, or basilisks, or the harpies of the Jissup Plains. It takes skill, teamwork, and practice.” And a hell of a lot of luck. Hump decided not to tell Celaine that bit. Those that lacked in any department tended not to live long. “Vamir said you had to work on your team skills. You’d learn a lot from them.”

“Vamir says a lot of things. You learn not to listen.”

“I heard that,” Vamir said.

“I’d take a party like Meera’s over Kassius’ any day,” Bud said quietly.

Hump looked to the front where the prince strolled ahead, leading the way through the tunnels, guided by one of Oswald’s scouts. The scout seemed nervous, and it was hard to blame him.

At Kassius’ side, a black paladin marched in silence. His armour was black iron, polished to perfection, and moved through the shadowy tunnels like a rippling shadow. Strapped to his back was a greatsword as tall as a man, but even that wasn’t what set the rest of them on edge. It was the marking on his chest plate. The black sigil of Rathlar, the God of Death. Hump was impressed the scout managed to keep himself together as well as he did. Even the rest of Kassius’ party kept their distance. The archer, armoured swordsman, and some kind of rogue followed from as far back as they could, the three of them muttering amongst themselves. It was a strange dynamic—Kassius walked as happily as if he were in a palace garden, while the rest of his party seemed quiet and nervous.

“Where do you think Kassius found him?” Hump asked, staring at the black paladin’s back. He wore a helmet that completely covered his head.

“Gods know,” Bud said. “He wasn’t with Kassius when he stayed at our manor. There’s no way I’d have forgotten him. Heretics and Chosen of Death, this day is quickly transforming into a disaster.”

“Chin up, Bud,” Hump said. “Nobody will be complaining about him when a horde of kobolds swarm us. He could slaughter half the dungeon with that thing on his back.”

“Or us,” Bud grumbled.

“That sword won’t do him much good down here,” Celaine said. “We could take him.”

“Or we could avoid pissing him off,” Hump said, “and remember we’re on the same side.”

“Followers of Rathlar have no allies,” Bud said.

“Is Rathlar not part of your Pantheon?” Celaine asked.

“Oh, he is,” Bud said. “He and his followers are to be respected, even feared, but they are not our friends.”

“Well, clearly Kassius’ worked something out with him,” Hump said. “Maybe a little help from Rathlar is just what we need down here.”

It was a long walk back down to the lower levels. Overnight, a makeshift fortification had been built in one of the larger chambers, creating the first line of defence that would act as their retreat point. When they arrived, Hump couldn’t help but grin at the man waiting for them.

After greeting the party leaders, Gerard made his way over. “Hump, Bud, good to see you both!” He smiled as he approached, the soldier extending a hand. The others of his party were manning the fortification.

“Gerard!” Hump approached and took the man’s hand. “I didn’t expect to see you down here.”

“Neither did I,” Gerard said. “But the Overseer requested our presence here personally. I served under Oswald a good long while ago, it was hard to refuse.”

“You’ll be needed,” Bud said. “The villagers…” he shook his head. “They’ll be in bad shape.”

“We’re prepared.” Gerard gestured toward the stacks of blankets, food, and other supplies. There were medics waiting, and makeshift surgeon stands. One was pacing nervously beside one of the tables, face pale as a ghost. “We’re ready for them. You just get them out safe.”

“We will,” Bud said.

“With any luck, we’ll get us out safe too,” Hump said.

Gerard looked at them both and smiled. “This was the last thing I expected of you two after that evening in the inn. Part of me thought you’d get yourselves killed on your first trip in.”

“It’s not too late,” Hump said.

“Never is,” Gerard said. “But you’re doing the gods’ work.”

“Someone has to,” Hump said, smiling. “They don’t exactly pull their own weight.”

Gerard grinned. “Well, I won’t keep you. And I’ve still got work to be done. Good luck to you both. We’ll be here when you get back.”

Kassius gave them a few minutes to stock up on water and grab a final bite to eat before leading them farther down into the tunnels. It wouldn’t be long now before Oswald sounded the horn, and they had to be in position for when that happened. It was Meera’s party that veered off first, down one of the many tunnels Celaine had previously checked for ambushes.

“This is where we part,” Kassius said on their approach to the next of the designated tunnels. “Don’t get my wizard killed, Vamir,” he said cheerfully, shooting Hump a wink. It was hard to reciprocate the positivity with the black paladin looming nearby. His silent stare sent chills down Hump’s spine that almost made him wish he were facing a kobold instead.

“If you insist,” Vamir quipped, not hesitant in the slightest. “Though that does put a hole in my emergency escape plan.”

“Brilliant,” Hump said. “That’s exactly what I want to hear right now.”

Kassius laughed quietly. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” He turned to Bud. “Robert, take care of yourself down there. Not that I’m worried after what I saw of you in the training grounds.”

“And you,” Bud said. “Kelisia’s blessing go with you.”

Kassius’ smile slipped for just a moment. When it returned, his eyes were dark.

They parted ways. Kassius’ party going on to the furthest tunnel—a small mercy. Hump didn’t want to revisit the boiling pools again. He wondered if the scouts had fished out what remained of the bodies. Best not to think about it, he told himself. Things weren’t going to get any better where he was going anyway. Once more, they followed behind Celaine, allowing her to check for any traps the scouts might have missed.

The tunnel veered downward, and into that darkness they wandered. The slow, steady chink of the black paladin’s armour growing more and more distant.

They were alone now, a dungeon full of kobolds waiting for them.

SEVENTEEN

DUNGEON GROVE

Of all the things Hump expected to find in the dungeon, an essence grove wasn’t one of them. They were rare, so rare that even the old man had only ever seen one. And just as rare as they were, they were also dangerous.

Calling it a chamber didn’t convey the magnitude of the place. It was a cavern more enormous than anything Hump had seen, and it was alive. Blue grass lit the ground, shimmering with essence as if swept by an invisible wind. Flowers were everywhere: growing out of the trees, the grass; in pale, sickly tones, like a polluted forgery of the world above.

Bulbous trees sprung up all around, the bark bulging at the centre of their trunks like some grotesque tumour. Their roots were thick, sprouting tendrils that drove into the ground, pulsating dimly with the blue light of essence. Tiny fungi grew upon them, with caps the size of a thumb, and the underside lined with tendrils that dangled out below and shone with a radiant blue. The canopy was made up of spindly, crooked branches sprouted with drooping red leaves like day-old blood. There was fruit amongst them, shining in sickly yellows and reds, lit from within by a faint glow. The skin appeared bloated and blistered, as if it could barely contain the sickness held within, ready to burst at the slightest touch.

The air was hot and humid, pervaded by the sickly-sweet scent of overripe fruit and decay. The trees made it hard to see beyond a few paces in any direction, and spidery vines rained down from the cavern roof and tree branches, covered in drooping purple leaves and flowers.

“What is this place?” Bud asked, reaching to touch one of the flower petals on a vine that dangled over the end of the tunnel.

“Stop!” Hump snapped. “Don’t poke the flower. Anything that looks like that is definitely poisonous.”

“It’s poisonous?” Bud said indifferently. He didn’t stop reaching for it. “But it looks so beautiful.”

Hump frowned. “Bud, you need to get back.”

“It’s fine…” Bud mumbled, clearly not listening.

Hump hurried forward, but Vamir beat him to it. He appeared beside Bud in a rush, grabbing him by the arm and jerked him back, practically throwing him to the ground.

Bud shook him off furiously and rose ready for a fight, towering over the smaller man. “What are you doing?” he growled down into Vamir’s face.

Vamir met his eyes for a moment, then, fast as a flash, he slapped Bud across the cheek, sending him stumbling.

“Vamir,” Bud growled again, glaring at him. His hand was on the grip of his sword. “Why did you…” He stopped and looked back at the flower, face furrowed. “Something isn’t right with me.”

“That’s an understatement,” Vamir said. “Unfortunately, I can’t fix most of that with just a slap. Are you feeling better?”

Bud nodded, rubbing his cheek tenderly where Vamir had struck. “What happened?”

Vamir pointed at the tunnel wall where a vine trailed down the stone discreetly. “You brushed that on your way past. It looks like it induced some sort of craving.”

“I wanted more,” Bud said. Suddenly he grimaced and spat on the ground. “Gods, it’s like honey, only disgusting.” He brought up his water flask, rinsed out his mouth, and spat again. “Blagh. Don’t touch the poisonous looking vines—note taken. Thanks, Vamir.”

“No need to thank me,” Vamir said. “I’ll slap you any time.” He walked ahead of them and crouched at the end of the tunnel, peering left and right. “Hump, do you have anything to help with all the poison? I don’t see us getting through here without touching anything.”

“Nothing I’d bet our lives on,” Hump said. “I have an antidote for common poisons, but it’s not designed for something like this.”

Vamir sighed. “Plan B then. We’ll chop our way through.”

“You really want to go in there?” Celaine asked.

Vamir glanced back. “Want is the wrong word. There’s only one reason a place like this would exist here.”

Hump sighed. “Because we’re getting closer to the dungeon core. This probably leads to the inner chambers.”

“Yes, and I bet the kobolds eat this crap. And where food grows, it’s likely stored nearby too. That’s where they will be holding the villagers.”

“And just how is there a forest underground?” Bud asked.

“It’s an essence grove,” Hump said, peering out into the strangely coloured world, as if it were the garden of some mad god. “Everything here survives off the dungeon’s essence. If we had the gear to harvest it, an alchemist would pay good money for some of this. They could probably replicate whatever it was that was affecting you.”

Bud grimaced. “Nasty stuff.”

“Agreed,” Hump said. “I don’t like it, but Vamir’s probably right. If the villagers are going to be anywhere, it’s somewhere in here.”

“I’m glad we have a wise old wizard with us to confirm I’m right,” Vamir said, smirking.

“Brilliant,” Hump grumbled. “Let’s just hope we don’t get brutally murdered by any bloody plants along the way.”

Vamir waved a hand at him. “Oh relax. Just don’t touch anything and you’ll be fine. And don’t let any insects touch you either. I don’t want to have to chop off an arm or anything like that.”

Hump thought hard. He didn’t want to know what kind of insect would require amputating an arm. At the same time, his survival instinct made him feel obliged to know. “Why would you have to chop off my arm?”

“Stop the poison spreading, obviously,” Vamir said. “And trust me, you’ll want that. These things are full of nasties that’ll dissolve you from the inside out. Though it varies from place to place. You never know, we might get lucky.”

Hump felt sick. Like I ever get lucky… There was a distant thunder, and the tunnels rumbled with the sound of a horn. It was time. Suddenly he felt even more sick.

“Right, enough chatter,” Vamir said. “Let’s get a move on.”

“How do you plan to do that?” Hump asked, eyeing the vines nervously.

Vamir smiled and held up a hand. The veins within began to glow with essence, turning his skin red until it looked as if he’d been badly burnt. His skin turned rough, like leather, then deformed into a coating of red scales. “Helps to have a good pair of gloves.”

Hump tilted his head for a better look. “Is that Scaled Skin?” he asked, frowning. He’d never seen the spell produce such vibrant results. It was usually more… skin coloured.

“Something like that.” Vamir drew his sword and led the way into the grove, cutting through vines and foliage as easily as if it were wheat, clearing a safe path through the poisonous and man-eating plants.

They walked steadily through the grove, conscious that a single stumble could spell an agonising death. Keeping the wall on their left, they never strayed far enough from it that they couldn’t find their way back. Hump was fairly certain that at least this way they wouldn’t get lost.

Time passed slowly. Hump drew up his cloak to cover his nose, which helped with the worst of the smell, but the stench of rot and decay was nauseating. It must have been half an hour by the time he judged they had reached the halfway point, almost a mile of underground woodland.

“Kelisia’s fire, I hate spiders,” Bud growled, staring up at a particularly large web. The spider was as big as a hand. It had a thin body and spindly legs, all covered in bright yellow rings.

“They’re probably not particularly fond of you either,” Celaine said. She walked with her bow in hand, an arrow nocked and ready.

“Yeah, well I don’t bite.”

“You know,” Hump said, “there are people that eat spiders.”

They both looked at him.

“You must be joking,” Bud said.

Hump shook his head. “It says so in my book. One of my predecessors found a village in a country far to the south called Hersima, where they keep spiders in their huts and breed them. The spiders dig burrows in their homes and live inside, while the villagers feed them food scraps and use them to keep away rats. Crazy thing is they grow as big as piglets.”

Bud scrunched his face and looked a shade paler. “That’s disgusting.”

“Oh yes.” Hump grinned. “Apparently they don’t taste too bad though. He said somewhere between snake and chicken.”

“I’ve never eaten snake,” Bud said.

“Me neither.” Hump shrugged.

“I have,” Celaine said. “Taste’s kind of like frog.”

“You’ve eaten frog?” Hump said, scrunching his nose. “Isn’t that slimy?”

“Hey!” she said, offended. “I’m not the one whose predecessors wrote about eating spiders. That book can’t have many spells if it’s full of crap like that.”

“It’s not crap,” Hump said. “Ivish was a little strange, but there was a logic to his madness. He found a way to use their venom to make a hallucinogen.”

“Perfect,” Celaine said. “If you’re ever in the remote village in the southern country of Hersima—which, by the way, I’ve never heard of—you can get high off your face.”

“Exactly,” Hump said smugly. “And unless you change your attitude, I won’t give you any!”

Abruptly, Vamir stopped and stared off to his right.

Hump followed the man’s stare but saw nothing but trees.

“What is it?” Bud whispered.

Vamir held up a finger for quiet and tilted his head, listening. Seconds passed in tense silence. Hump tried to listen too, but the pounding of his heart drowned out any other sound.

The attack came soundlessly, and it came fast. A massive kobold, as big as Hump, leapt out from the trees to the left. Vamir spun to meet it. Even as he moved, he brought his bow up. An arrow flashed, piercing the creature through the eye, sending it tumbling. It hit the ground kicking and screaming, coming to a stop at their feet. Hump stared at it wide-eyed as it writhed, quickly growing motionless.

Its body was covered in scales, much like the other kobolds he’d seen, but this one was bigger in every way. Bigger even than the yellow finned kobold he’d seen, nearly human size, and more muscular than Hump. It wore leather rags for armour and carried a spear with an iron point.

“Eyes up,” Vamir said. “There’s more.”

Bud drew his sword and knocked aside the arrow in a single motion. The source of which was met by one of Celaine’s own. It struck true, and the kobold fell screaming from its perch on a tree branch. The scream was cut short when it hit the ground.

Where one fell, more came. Dark shapes took form amongst the trees, faintly illuminated by the glow of the trees and grass.

“Retreat to the cavern wall,” Vamir ordered. “Find cover.”

They did. The creatures formed a half-circle around them as they went, cutting off any route of escape. There were at least a dozen of them as far as Hump could tell, and they were far better armed than the kobolds they previously encountered.

Hump gripped his staff and readied his magic, funnelling it into the crystal. He’d taken cover behind a pair of interlocking trees but had little protection from the flanks, and the kobold force was still beyond his range. Rockshot was his best bet over these types of distance, and there was no way he’d hit anything with all the trees blocking the way. Celaine and Vamir, on the other hand, were another matter entirely. They shot arrow after arrow. From the distant screams, Hump judged at least a good portion of them were finding targets.

To the right flank, Hump caught sight of a pair of kobolds taking aim with their bows. He raised his staff toward them as their bowstrings twanged. Their arrows were a blur.

“Shield!” he shouted, hardening his will. The air distorted before him like a layer of wrinkled glass. The arrows struck it, causing ripples on the surface of the shield before clattering off harmlessly. “Archers to the right,” he called. Celaine turned toward them.

“Hump!” Bud cried. “Down!”

Hump knew the tone well enough. He dropped into a crouch, nearly losing his feet beneath him in his hurry, barely escaping the bite of Bud’s blade as it swept through the space his head had been. The icy cold flame of Frostfire licked at the skin of Hump’s face and neck, and the blade cut through a leaping kobold that had been about to land on his back.

The kobold was cleaved in two around the waist. It landed at their feet in pieces, the grass gulping down the blood like water.

Bud bolted toward the main group as two kobolds pushed their way out of the trees straight ahead, trying to rush Celaine and Vamir while they were distracted. The knight reached them too quickly for them to get by. He roared as he charged, and the kobolds stumbled back, fear clear in their eyes as they stared at the Frostfire that raged along Bud’s sword.

He cleaved through them, felling both so swiftly the creatures behind them shied back. Bud roared again at the remaining kobolds, feigning a charge that sent them stumbling.

Hump pointed his staff, gathering his essence into the crystal focus. “Blast,” he snapped. A wave of blue energy lanced through the air.

They were too far for the spell to do any real damage, but that didn’t make the effect any less satisfying. The blast shook the branches and leaves. It filled the air with a flash of blue light and pressure. The kobolds fled, shrieking and chittering as they went, scattering into the forest as quickly as they appeared.

“Stay close, Bud,” Vamir shouted.

The knight fell back to stand in front of them, his sword held at the ready. They watched the trees, waiting. Hump’s heart raced in anticipation. He caught glimpses of the kobolds, but they were moving farther away.

A deep growl rumbled in the distance, then clicked angrily, cutting through the shrieking like a knife. The kobolds stopped. All of them. While they didn’t run back into the fight, they took up positions amongst the trees once more, staying behind cover where Vamir and Celaine couldn’t get a clear shot.

“What are they waiting for?” Celaine said nervously.

Vamir walked forward to stand beside Bud while Hump and Celaine stood shoulder to shoulder with their backs to the cavern wall and only a few trees for cover.

“Whatever thing made that noise,” Hump said.

Two creatures appeared from amongst the bulging trees, and instinctively Hump knew them to be different. Even compared to the fallen kobold at their feet, these were bigger.

They were human in general shape, though in the same way a minotaur was if you squinted hard enough. Green scales coated their shoulders and backs, while their fronts were lighter with a pale red tint to them. Thick, dense muscles radiated so much hulking mass Hump wondered how the creatures could walk. Their massive shoulders hunched forward, with a thick neck jutting out, and a hammer for a head. Their jaws were fixed with yellow dagger teeth. Scaledbrutes. Comparing them to their smaller cousins didn’t do them justice. They lumbered through the grove with heavy steps, their hands and feet wielding giant claws. Their eyes shone gold, with a frenzied black slit running down the centre.

Around their necks, they each wore a necklace. Human teeth. He clenched his fist around his staff. The bigger of the two’s was fuller, almost fully wrapping around its neck. Hump’s stomach churned. These monsters were collecting trophies of those that they slaughtered.

“Those are not kobolds,” Celaine said.

“No,” Vamir said. “Those are scaledbrutes. I think we found ourselves a kobold den.”

“Great,” Hump said, exasperated. “Mission success!”

EIGHTEEN

BATTLE AMONGST THE TREES

SPELLBOOK

Shield

Warding | Battle Magic | Tier 1 | Range: Short

Description

Gather essence to your will and form a solid wall of essence, blocking physical and elemental attacks.

Notes

y.519 – Ivish – The most important spell for any wizard to have. Infinitely versatile, and forever useful. Master this spell and become impervious to all that might harm you. Like essence blast, this is an exercise in controlling one’s essence and giving it direction.

As Hump stood amongst the tainted trees, staring at the scaledbrutes, all he could think was that it could have been worse. They had the cavern wall at their backs, trees providing cover from the kobold archers, and plenty of rock he could use to smash in some face.

That said, the situation was a far cry from good.

There was no time to formulate a plan. The scaledbrutes dropped to all fours and bared their thumb-sized teeth, long slivers of drool dribbling out from the gaps. The right one was the smaller of the two, with a reddish tint to its under-scales rather than the deep, rich red of the left. The larger one let loose a snarl, deep and rumbling, and Hump’s insides rumbled with it. He shivered—he couldn’t help it. They were predators, and he felt like prey.

Vamir raised his bow and shot in one smooth motion. Reacting immediately, the scaledbrutes darted apart from each other so that the arrow passed harmlessly between them. They vanished into the trees, each going in opposite directions. They were fast—faster than anything bigger than a bear should be capable of—disappearing into the shadows on either side. In the dim light of the trees and fruit, the creatures might as well have been invisible.

“I can’t see shit,” Hump shouted. The vines and thick tree trunks created a wall that made even spotting shadows on the blue grass impossible.

“They’re circling around us,” Celaine said, eyes trailing. “One on our left, the other on the right.”

“Bud, Hump, keep the big red one on the left busy,” Vamir ordered. “Celaine, handle their archers. I’ll deal with the scaledbrute on the right. Think you can do that?”

“Sure,” Hump said, already feeling out of breath. “We’ll just sit it down and ask it to wait. Because evil monsters are always so cooperative.”

“I’m not joking around,” Vamir said. “Either you tell me you can do it, or you tell me you can’t. I’m not strong enough to fight them both alone, so I’ll start by targeting the smaller of the two.”

“We can do it,” Bud said. “We’ll hold it off at the very least.”

Vamir nodded. “I’m counting on you. You don’t need to kill it.” Hump heard the snap of a bowstring as he let loose an arrow at something in the trees. “Just don’t die.”

There was a thump to the left, and the canopy of one of the trees rustled as if an avalanche had just slammed into it. Feet thumped, and Hump knew the scaledbrute was out there, and it was getting closer.

Few wizards had the budget and the backing to be true masters of the craft, let alone the talent required to master the complex evocations necessary for battle magic, but every good hedge wizard had a few spells up their sleeves. A little showering of stones wasn’t going to be enough this time. The scaledbrute was big, so Hump was going to need to bring the artillery.

Hump extended his left hand toward the ground, clutching at it with his will and power. He took a deep breath, drawing his essence from his core and channelling it to his staff. With an effort of will, he released it. The earth stirred. Tendrils of bronze light crept out from his fingertips and staff, burying themselves into the ground. The surface of the earth churned. Dirt and pebbles rose into the air around him, suspended by his will. Still, he dug deeper, forcing out more and more of his essence. The tendrils turned into vibrant streams of bronze, pulling at the earth around him.

And then he felt it. The timeless, churning power beneath him. A glimpse at an endless expanse of incomprehensible magnitude. All he needed was a piece of it.

The crystal focus of his staff glowed brightly now, blazing with bronze light. With a thought, he dragged the earth into the air and gathered it into clumps. Clenching his fist, he compressed the earth and hardened it with his power. An uneven fragment floated before him, bound to him by trails of essence. He held it in place and focused. His essence roiled through his body, filling him with heat that felt as if it would burst free of his skin. The stone hovered there above his hand, as big as a head, and enough to make even a beast like this falter.

A heartbeat later, the scaledbrute appeared from amongst the trees, just not where Hump had been expecting. It dashed out from the right, barging through vines and branches with a tearing crash. Its feet thundered across the ground, tearing up clumps of grass and dirt. In his peripheral, Hump spotted the other of the beasts mirroring its movements. They were coming at them from both sides.

Focus on your job, Hump told himself. Vamir had entrusted one of the scaledbrutes to them, and he needed to trust Vamir to handle the other. There was no time to be distracted.

Bud took up a position in front of Hump, careful to leave him a clear line of sight. “Hold your fire as long as you can,” Bud said. “I won’t let it pass.”

Ten paces.

Hump licked his lips nervously. Against every instinct, he let the scaledbrute get closer.

Eight paces. The ground trembled.

Five paces. It was now or never. He threw his hand forward and channelled essence to it. “Rockshot!” he shouted.

Hump’s staff flared bronze as all the power he stored up was released at once. The stone shot forward, streaking bronze-like fire. It missed the beast’s eye but struck it under its chin, just below the ear. The creature jerked from the blow, stumbling and nearly tripping onto its face. Bud didn’t give it a moment to recover. He rushed forward, sword streaming Frostfire as he swung it down at the beast’s neck.

It didn’t dodge. It raised its good shoulder, taking the blow on its scaled hide. Bud’s sword rang out as if it struck metal, glancing off and leaving little more than a dent. The scaledbrute let out a splattering snarl and tried to snap its jaws shut on Bud’s leg.

The knight stepped back smoothly and aimed a thrust at its eyes. The beast ducked, the blade narrowly missing its eyes but cutting a long bloody line across its brow. The air crackled as a line of ice crystalised over the left of its yellow snake eyes. It leapt back, landing with a frantic crash, scrambling away from the blade. Frantically, it swiped at its eye, hissing and snarling in panic as it scraped the ice free. Scales were torn off with it, leaving a gash twice as large and bloody as the one Bud inflicted.

Bud planted his feet solidly on the ground and readied his sword once more. A steady stance as he faced down the beast.

The beast snarled at them again, breathing heavily, head swaying from side to side. Suddenly, it dashed into the trees. Was it fleeing or just changing tactics? There wasn’t time to figure it out. An arrow struck the ground near Hump. He stepped back, searching the trees for a source, but they were too dark for him to see anything. He clenched his jaw in frustration. They were just so exposed amongst the trees. A droplet of sweat ran down his forehead, and he wiped it away, a Shield spell ready on his lips for the moment it was needed.

“Archers!” Hump called. He ducked behind the closest tree for cover, using its roots to get to a higher position where he peeked out from behind where the trunk bulged. “I can’t see them! Damn it, I can’t see anything through all these trees.”

Bud sheltered behind a nearby tree and pressed his back up against it, using it as cover. He clutched his sword to his chest, tucking in his arms and shoulders as much as he could. After a few seconds, he chanced a better look at their attackers, only to duck back into cover when another flurry of arrows whizzed his way. “The brute’s circling around.”

An arrow struck the tree right beside Hump’s face, digging into the bark.

Hump ground his teeth. “Celaine, we need those kobolds taken care of!”

“What do you think I’m doing?” she yelled back. Her bowstring twanged, and one of the creatures screamed in the distance.

“No need to be snarky,” Hump grumbled to himself.

Celaine dodged an arrow with a quick tilt of her head and huddled up against the tree beside Hump, pressing into his shoulder. “Feel free to help,” she hissed.

“I’m doing my best!” Hump peeked out from around the tree, then pulled back into cover, another arrow thudding into the trunk right next to where his face had been. “If I could see the bastards, it would help. I need to be closer.”

Celaine retaliated with another arrow, leaving cover for only a moment. “It’s the scaledbrute we need to deal with. We had the kobolds running before. If we bring down the leaders, the rest will flee.”

Hump frowned. One scaledbrute was hiding in the trees, while Vamir had his hands tied with the other one. Steel rang out as he struck blow after blow on the beast’s scales, his sword radiating silver light. Blood trickled from a few spots where the blade had dug deeper, but for the most part, the creature was unharmed.

They were on their own.

“Easier said than done,” Hump said.

“I can hurt it,” Bud said. “I just need an opportunity.”

Not far away, Hump heard the rumbling howl of the scaledbrute they were supposed to be stalling. The second scaledbrute snarled, and an instant later, the other kobolds joined in with their shrieks and chirps. He tried to spot them in the canopy, but it was too thick, and the glow of trees and fruit wasn’t bright enough for him to glimpse more than the occasional moving shadow. The scaledbrute’s footsteps were like thick and heavy drums, and they were growing more distant. Hump’s heart raced as he realised what that meant. It was heading in the wrong direction.

“It’s not going for us,” Hump said as realisation set in. “It’s after Vamir. We can’t let it reach him. We’ve got no choice. Bud, go! Celaine, keep the kobolds off us.”

Hump caught another glimpse of the scaledbrute’s shadow just as it charged out of the trees on the right, flattening the vegetation. Bud charged to meet it, planting himself between the beast and where Vamir fought, thrusting at it with his blade.

It swatted the sword aside with a swing of its arm. Bud tried to retreat, but the beast whirled on him, lurching, and backhanding him across the face, sending the knight sprawling to the ground. It stormed after him on all fours, the rest of them forgotten, its eyes only for the prey at its feet.

Hump levelled his staff toward the creature, bronze light radiating as he reached out to the earth with his will. Essence streamed from the crystal and pierced the earth in dazzling strands. The earth came to him, gathering in the air as if sucked in by a vortex. He condensed it into a ball as big as a head, binding it together with essence. Hardening it. The bronze light of his staff shining brighter still. He felt an icy chill shoot through his arm, but Hump ignored it. This wasn’t the time to pace himself. He could deal with the tiredness later.

He heaved his staff toward the scaled brute, the weight of the stone slowing him down. With one final burst of will, he shouted, “Rockshot.”

Bronze light pulsed, a shockwave of essence launched the stone from the end of his staff. It caught the scaledbrute beneath its massive arm, right into its exposed ribs. There was a resounding thump. The creature let out a hiss-like snarling sound as the force of the blow rocked it from its feet. But the scaledbrute didn’t stop. It caught itself on its knees before fully falling to the ground and staggered closer to Bud.

Hump stumbled out into the open, using his staff like a walking stick. “Hey!” he shouted, waving an arm over his head. “Ugly! Over here!” When the creature ignored him, Hump thought up a new plan.

He gritted his teeth and called upon his power once more, beginning to feel the strain of using so much essence. His arm burned with cold as essence passed through it and into his staff. Gathering his will, he stabbed his staff at the scaledbrute. “Blast!”

The beast was too far away for Essence Blast to have any real effect, but it rocked the branches of the canopy above like a storm wind. Pulpy, rancid fruit rained down around the scaledbrute. One fell right on its face and burst, covering it in a sticky red sludge.

It shook its head frantically, then wiped at it with the back of one hand. The beast’s head spun toward Hump, snake eyes narrow. Lines of fruit pulp ran down its scales. Its face contorted into a snarl. All of a sudden, Bud was ignored, and the scaledbrute settled on a new target.

Hump gulped. Perhaps he hadn’t thought this through.

It sprung to its feet and bound toward Hump on all fours, its claws tearing up the ground.

“Well shit,” Hump said.

NINETEEN

DESPERATE PLAN

Hump had heard that time seems to slow down when death approaches—he wasn’t sure what idiot came up with that idea. If anything, time appeared to have sped up as the scaledbrute stormed toward him.

With an aching arm, Hump raised his staff, aiming at its face. Its feet thumped the ground louder than horse hooves, and Hump’s heart thundered with it. He met the beast’s yellow eyes and felt hunger and hate radiate from them. Part of Hump wanted to run, but he took that fear and used it now.

Fear was quite the motivator. It got the magical juices churning. Icy pain lanced up Hump’s arm as he channelled his power. He didn’t waste that pain. He gathered it all into one place, an angry flame within him, and he willed it into his staff. Using emotion was dangerous; too much and the magic would take control. But right now, he needed whatever power he could get. The crystal head shone with the natural blue of pure essence, pushing back the dark and eerie light of the essence grove.

“Blast!” Hump shouted, pouring his will into the spell.

Light flashed. Hump’s staff jerked back from the force of the spell. A wave of blue surged forth and slammed into the creature with enough energy to send a man flying. Unfortunately, the scaledbrute was no man. It was a boulder of a beast, and every inch of it was coated in thick scales and hulking muscle. It threw itself into the blast shoulder first, barrelling through and barely losing a step. The wave dispersed over its armour, broken like water over rock, scattering into particles of essence that disappeared into the air behind it.

Hump’s eyes widened. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

He focused his will on raising a Shield. The air before him shimmered with magical energy, but there wasn’t enough time for it to fully form. The scaled brute tore at him, its claws seeking to disembowel him.

The incomplete spell held… barely. A moment later and he’d have been eviscerated. Instead, Hump felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest.

The world blurred. Hump felt himself flying, followed all too soon by the loving embrace of the cavern wall as he smashed into it back first. Every one of his bones shuddered. Pain flared along his spine, rising with blinding agony in the back of his head. Light burst in his skull, and the world filled with such loud ringing that, for a moment, he thought his soul had been knocked straight out of his body.

When the blinding light subsided, the world swam with sickening swirls. Face down in the dirt, he rolled onto his back and lay there gasping, waiting for the world to return to some semblance of normal and for the agony to subside enough for him to have a coherent thought.

“Hump!” Bud shouted. It sounded distant. “Hump!” he called again, desperation in his voice.

The world came back in a rush. The ringing diminished, and his vision cleared. He raised his head a little and saw Bud engaged with the scaled brute.

The knight was a big guy, built as broad and strong as humans come, but the scaledbrute towered over him. Somehow, Bud held his own.

“Celaine, help him,” Vamir shouted. He was engaged with the other scaledbrute, pressing it back with his sword. He shouted something, and his blade glistened, letting loose a slash that turned the air in the blade’s path to mist. It struck across the beast’s chest and sent it scrambling, screeching. A bloody wound opened where the blade connected. “I have this one under control.”

A few seconds later, Hump felt a hand on his shoulder. He blinked hard and saw Celaine above him, her face a blur of worry as she inspected his stomach. “Holy crap. There’s no blood. How are you still in one piece?”

“A wizard… has his… ways…” Hump ground out. In truth, his Shield had absorbed much of the blow, and essence enhanced a practitioner’s body beyond that of ordinary people. Even as a wizard, it was enough to make a little difference. He forced himself to sit up and breathed in painfully. “I’m alright. Help Bud.”

Celaine glanced over him one last time, then nodded, rising to her feet. She drew back an arrow, muscles straining as the tip glinted silver, empowered by her blessing. She loosed it, and it flashed through the air and vanished into the shadows of the trees. She bent her knees and launched herself up using Spring Step, a flash of green light trailing behind her as she vanished into the canopy.

Hump fumbled for his potion pouch. A part of him wanted to use his potion of Wizardfire already, but the conservative side of him knew better. Instead, he pulled out his vial of Second Life. He gulped it down in one shot, gasping at the bitter taste. Immediately, he felt it working. The pain turned into warm numbness; the chill of essence overuse became a distant thought, and his nausea subsided. Then like a jolt of lightning coursing through him, his body felt full of strength.

He pulled out one of his vials of Essence Elixir next. The deep purple liquid was speckled with dark impurities. Wrinkling his nose, he took a moment to prepare for what was about to come. No time to think, just drink.

He tilted his head back and swallowed. He gasped, heat searing the back of his throat. It exploded in his stomach, radiating outward and filling the rest of his body with a painful, itching heat, like fire ants gnawing at him from the inside. His skin tingled with pins and needles. Essence filled him.

He pulled himself unsteadily to his feet, using his staff to help him balance. In his head, he told himself he was waiting for the right opportunity to act. In reality, he was just trying to stay the hell out of everyone else’s way until he got himself together.

The scaledbrute was unarmed, giving Bud the advantage of reach. An advantage he made full use of with all the practiced expertise that came from a life committed to training. The beast was faster, stronger, and its scaled armour seemed impenetrable; it came at Bud with a bestial frenzy, striking wildly with its claws. Yet Bud met each attack with calm precision. As swift and strong as the knight was, it was his timing that was truly spectacular. He whirled the blade around him as if it were an extension of himself. He was living steel. A storm of ice and blue fire.

Each time the beast moved, Bud found an opening. A quick jab beneath the arm, where the red-tinted scales were softer. Or a neat chop across the elbow, binding the joint in ice. Each strike was made with purpose, chipping away at the beast’s armour. Wearing it down. Blood stained its scales, an icy crust formed on its body, and even Hump could see the creature was slowing down. Its movements jerkier, its joints stiff, the cold biting deep into muscle. Around its neck, Bud managed to knock a few scales loose, and blood trickled from the wound.

The beast was hurting.

But perfection never lasts forever, and Bud was playing with fire.

The scaledbrute let out a roar and launched itself at the knight, this time aiming at Bud’s sword. It struck the edged side of the blade hard, knocking it to the side with its arm and ignoring the damage as it barrelled into Bud's shoulder first. Bud fell back, rolling across the ground where he came to a stop a few feet away. Shakily, he managed to rise to his feet, staggering as he righted. His sword stance wasn’t as steady as before, and there was an unsteadiness to his blade that wasn’t there before. The scaledbrute stood upright and snarled down at him gleefully. Then it stomped closer.

Not good, Hump thought. He reached for his power, but the essence from the elixir was chaotic, the cheap potion contaminated with other elements that made it more difficult to use. But right now, he didn’t have a choice. He channelled all the essence he could, ignoring the way it burned through his channels. Essence burst from him in violent bronze rays, embedding into the ground where it tore up fist-sized stones.

There was no order to it, he’d pointed it at the ground, and the chaotic essence ravaged it. He strained to focus enough to bring the stones before him. They whipped through the air, and it was all he could do just to keep them close. Even as he gathered up the strength for a final attack, he knew it was too late.

The scaledbrute swung its arm. Bud was on his own.

At Hump’s side, Celaine took aim at the beast, straining against her bowstring as if it had suddenly tripled in draw weight. She chanted something under her breath, almost melodic, and essence stirred. With a scream, she let loose her arrow. The air popped, and a wind swept throughout the grove. The point shone silver as it streaked through the air, digging deep into the open wound of the creature’s neck. The beast reared, shrieking, then stumbled back frantically. It swiped at the shaft of the arrow, snapping it in half but leaving most of it buried in muscle. Somewhere in the distance, Hump heard an answering snarl—Vamir’s ongoing fight of his own.

As the scaledbrute rose for another attack, Hump unleashed all the power he’d gathered. Essence filled the stones, most of it earth, but it was impossible to separate all of the elements that coursed through him. “Rockshot!” he screamed.

Hump knew something was off the moment he said the word. The stones blasted forward in a flash of bronze light, but his essence didn’t behave as it should. The stones lost their structure, crumbling in the air as they flew and turning back to dirt. They exploded over the scaledbrutes face, and the creature reared up, swiping at its eyes, blinded by the dust. It tripped in its panic, falling hard onto all fours.

Bud didn’t hesitate for a moment. He stepped close to the creature, one hand on the grip of his sword, the other holding the blade halfway up. Holding it tight, he stabbed it up through the roof of the creature’s mouth. Frostfire flared. Ice crystalised upon the scales on its head until it was completely encased. The beast went silent.

In the distance, a furious roar echoed through the cavern.

Bud pulled his sword free and collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath.

Hump leant against his staff, panting as well. The cold came more strongly than before and he began to shiver—the cost of using so much essence, made worse by the elixir.

“They’re running,” Bud said quietly.

Hump glanced at the trees and saw nothing, but the shouts of the kobolds in their strange language grew more distant.

“They must have scattered when the scaledbrute died.” He gazed at the big creature’s body. There was going to be one hell of a heartstone in that titan of a chest. “Is it just me, or do you guys think Oswald should pay us extra for this one?”

“We’re not done yet,” Celaine shouted. “Vamir’s still fighting. We need to move.”

Hump looked at her. Her armour was torn at the shoulder, a bloody wound beneath. She must have taken a hit from one of the kobolds. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing,” she said. “An arrow slipped through my armour but it didn’t go deep. I drank a potion.”

“Vamir can handle himself,” Hump said. “That potion isn’t going to protect you from poison.” He stumbled over to her, taking a closer look. From the amount of blood, it didn’t look too deep, but that didn’t mean much if the arrow had been poisoned. “We need to tend to this.”

She shoved him off. “There isn’t time,” she growled. “I’m fine. The kobolds are running. We need to follow them back to wherever they came from.” Celaine didn’t give him a chance to argue, rushing off into the trees.

“Damn it, Celaine,” Hump yelled after her. He glanced at Bud.

“Go,” the knight gasped. He was breathing heavily, a nasty red mark forming on his cheek where he’d been struck. “I’ll follow.” He staggered after her in a half-jog.

Hump drew in a long breath, willing his body to kick into motion once more, cursing his luck as he barely dodged past a cluster of hanging vines. In a flash of wizard’s ingenuity, he pulled up the hood of his cloak and wrapped it around himself as best as he could. If he was lucky, that would be enough to stop him from being dissolved by plant acid or draped in poison.

Judging from the fact he was able to keep pace with Celaine, albeit barely, he gathered she was holding back for his benefit. Ahead of them, he occasionally glimpsed kobolds between the trees. The hunters had become the hunted.

The kobold ran wildly, tripping and stumbling as it went. Lacking the nooks and crannies of the dungeon caves that the creatures usually skittered away down when things turned badly, it was just a matter of time before Celaine caught up. They were gaining ground.

The trees opened into a small clearing with an even larger tree at the centre, towering all the way up to the roof of the cavern.

The kobold tripped on its roots, falling to the ground. It screamed and flailed, trying to pull itself to its feet… but something stopped it. A moment later, Hump realised what.

The kobold hadn’t just tripped. It had been tripped.

The tree sprang to life in the fluid motions of a kraken. Its branches moved around it like whips, entwining the ankle of the kobold and raising it shrieking into the air. The creature writhed and fought against its grip, but its ankle was caught in a vice. Hump watched wide-eyed as the great bulging tumour at the centre of the tree’s trunk opened to reveal a gaping mouth full of fruit-like flesh and long strands of saliva. It swallowed the kobold whole and closed its mouth. The branches froze in place, and suddenly the tree was as still as everything else in the grove.

Hump could still hear the muffled cries of the kobold from inside. “It didn’t have teeth,” he mumbled, horrified.

Celaine scrunched her nose and stepped away from the web of roots that encompassed the entirety of the clearing.

They both jumped, screaming, as Bud bounded through the trees behind them like a lumbering oaf. Bud screamed too, leaping off his feet and practically toppling over before glaring at them like they were idiots. “What happened?” he asked. “Why are you screaming?”

“That tree ate a kobold,” Hump said.

Bud frowned, then shook his head. “Gods, I hate this place. Never heard any stories about man-eating trees. Now what do we do? Can you find Vamir?” he asked Celaine.

“He’ll find us,” Celaine said.

“Oh good,” Hump managed between breaths. “I guess we’ll just wait here then and enjoy the dying muffles of the kobold.” He frowned, noticing a blue shimmer beneath Bud’s skin. “Did I hit my head harder than I thought, or is Bud glowing?”

Celaine looked at the knight sharply, then nodded. “Definitely glowing.”

“What?” Bud asked. He looked at his hands, which shimmered blue below the surface. In a bright flash, light erupted from him in a pillar that pierced the sky. Frostfire spread from his feet in a wave of rolling flame, forming a circle of ice around him, crystallising the grass into perfect blades and thawing the earth. Within the circle, markings carved themselves into the ice—God Glyphs. Bud fell to his knees.

And Hump felt divinity.

TWENTY

BLESSING OF A GOD

Hump staggered back from the pillar of blue fire. Blazing cold struck him like hail in a storm. On instinct, he raised a hand to shield his face, peeking out through a gap in his fingers. The icy air howled, whipping at his hair and cloak, pressing him back away from the ice.

The pillar rose to the sky, so bright and cold, Hump couldn’t look directly at it. All around him, the air turned to ice, glimmering like weightless crystals, enshrouding him in the mercilessness of winter. It sapped him of his strength, weighing down on Hump’s soul. He tried to stay standing, but the pressure was too strong. It bent him to his knees. Beside him, Celaine fell too. He could barely breathe, struggling against the pressure, and what breath did come chilled him to his core.

This was power. Real power. Such a great and harrowing force no mortal could ever comprehend it. It made his small magics look like forgeries, like a child’s rendition of the actual thing. And he was helpless before it. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. All his will went to keep from falling completely. This was not a moment for mortals to intervene. Kelisia, Goddess of Winter, was speaking to her Chosen. Nothing else mattered until she was finished.

Hump understood that. He’d seen god pillars before, just never so up close and personal. Never had it been so clear just how weak he was. A wizard’s strength came from the soul’s ability to attract essence. Right now, he was an insect ensnared by a mere flake of Kelisia’s power, suppressed to the point that he could hardly sense his essence at all, let alone call upon it.

At the same time, he couldn’t look away, like a moth drawn to the flame. The power drew him in, calling to him. He wanted to soak in it, to breathe it in, and be one with it. To have such might flow through his veins and feel the terrifying, deadly power for himself. He wanted to learn its secrets.

The ground hissed and crackled, and Hump glimpsed at a new circle forming in the ice around Bud. It encompassed the first circle, a ring of shining power. And before Hump’s eyes, sharp lines carved themselves into the circle like fissures, filling one half with God Glyphs. When the final line was drawn, there was a flash of light. The God Glyphs gleamed with essence, so pure that Hump felt lost in it. A new blessing had taken form.

It was over in seconds. All at once, the Frostfire pillar shrunk back into Bud, contracting to a single point at the centre of the frozen circle, then vanishing without so much as a sound. With it, the icy cold was gone. All that remained to mark Kelisia’s visit were the two icy circles around Bud, inscribed with each of his blessings. The air returned to normal before Hump could blink.

Hump gasped, suddenly released from the pressure of Kelisia’s power, and fell forward, catching himself on his hands. While the terrifying, fascinating power was gone, a shadow of its presence remained, in the same way one could still see the sun’s glare if stared at too long. It lingered over him like a blanket of ice, and he craved for its touch again.

Suddenly, Bud took a deep, audible breath, his chest expanding beneath his armour. His eyes went wide, shimmering once more with Frostfire light before returning to their normal blue.

For a while, the three of them remained silent, catching their breath.

Hump felt every bit of exhaustion at once. He wanted to curl up and sleep and dream of the power he just felt. He yearned for it in a way that only wizards could. He’d touched the power of the world. Even learnt to command little pieces of it, but he was no Chosen. The power would never be truly his. He’d caught the scent of food but never had a chance to truly taste it; now, it bore a hunger so deep, he thought it might drive him mad.

He forced himself to bring his thoughts back to reality, not daring to follow the trail of where those thoughts would lead for fear of what they might do to him. Still, a hollow feeling remained in his chest, as if a piece of himself was missing.

He turned his attention to Bud, hoping to distract himself. The knight appeared withdrawn; his vacant eyes stared into space. “Are you there, Bud?” Hump asked.

Bud blinked slowly. He looked around in a daze, then blinked again.

“Oi! Bud!” Hump yelled. “Are you in there?”

Bud jolted as if woken from sleep. He groaned, rubbing his temples. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”

Celaine gave Hump an unamused look. “Real subtle.”

“We don’t exactly have time for subtlety,” Hump retorted.

Bud was looking at the ground around him, eyes stopping on the new blessing. His mouth dropped open. “Kelisia spoke to me! That was really her!”

“Barely noticed,” Hump said sarcastically. “Did you notice, Celaine?”

Celaine smiled at him tightly. “Funny.”

Bud looked between them suspiciously. “Are you both alright?”

“Other than almost being frozen to death?” Hump asked and shrugged. “Not too bad. It had to be the Frostfire Witch, didn’t it, Bud? You couldn’t have been Chosen by the god of sunshine and rainbows? I’m bloody freezing.”

Celaine looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. “Hump! There’s stupid, and then there’s running your mouth after a god was literally just with us. I… I have no words. We need a new word to express just how stupid that is.”

“Erm,” Hump paused, glancing up at the roof of the cavern nervously. “Sorry. I, erm… I’m grateful to have had the honour to witness your might, oh great and noble Kelisia.” He leant closer to Celaine and whispered, “Better?”

Celaine waited a few seconds too long. Long enough to make Hump think he really might be smited or turned into an ice cube. Finally, she sighed. “You’re not dead. Let’s take that as a good sign.”

“How could that not be a good sign?”

She stared at him. “There are punishments worse than death.”

“Yeah,” Hump said quietly, glancing up at the roof of the cavern. Suddenly, all the poisonous fruit and plants looked twice as dangerous.

“What did Lady Kelisia have to say?” Celaine asked.

“She promoted me to my second circle,” Bud said with the widest smile Hump had ever seen on the man. “As a reward for my efforts in purging true evil, she bestowed upon me a new boon to help me on my path. My second blessing.”

“She must have liked our work,” Hump grumbled. “Doesn’t quite seem fair that only you get a reward.” Celaine nudged him with her elbow and glowered at him. Hump sighed. “But I suppose that’s just the way it is for us wizards. I am not worthy of her grace.”

“You’re so much more agreeable with the threat of being smited hanging over your head,” Celaine said. She stood and walked over to Bud, extending her hand. “Let me be the first to congratulate you, Bud. Such a blessing is a great honour, and you deserve every bit of it.”

Bud took Celaine’s hand, and she helped him to his feet. “Thank you, Celaine. I couldn’t have done it without you. That was an amazing shot.”

Celaine smiled.

Hump frowned at her. “You weren’t that nice to me after I saved your life.”

She glanced back at him and raised an eyebrow. “Your point?”

Hump shrugged and crossed his arms. “Nothing,” he grumbled. “Just thought I’d mention it.”

She ignored him and looked at Bud’s new blessing, still inscribed on the ground. “What blessing did she grant you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Heart of Frostfire,” he said. “It allows me to draw upon the essence of Frostfire for strength, empowering my body and making me more resistant to attacks.”

“That’s amazing,” Hump said. Though he didn’t just mean the ability. He wandered over to get a better look at Bud’s circles, studying each of his blessings. It was his first time seeing them up close, for no Chosen would withdraw their Brilliance willingly in the presence of any but those they trusted. The first circle was completely filled with God Glyphs, containing Bud’s first major blessing. The second was simpler, filling only half the circle and with only a handful of glyphs—a minor blessing. “There’s so much power in such simple runes.” He tried to sense something from it, to glimpse some minute aspect of its workings. But there was nothing. No essence at all. It was completely beyond his reach, as if it were simply ice.

The Book of Infinite Pages shook on Hump’s hip. He glanced at it, frowning. Carefully, he removed it from his belt and held it flat in his hands. The book opened to a blank page, and ink began to swirl on the surface, taking form before his eyes.

BLESSINGS

Frostfire Knight

Description

Summon and wield the power of frostfire. Frostfire manifests ice essence in the form of a flame, possessing devastating cold effects and purification properties.

Beneath the description, the book formed an exact copy of Bud’s circles and the God Glyphs that filled them. Essence rippled through the ink, shimmering with the same icy light as Kelisia’s essence. On the other page, more words appeared.

BLESSINGS

Heart of Frostfire

Description

Manifest an aura of frostfire, empowering the body and becoming more resistant to attacks. The aura produces a chilling effect in the surrounding area.

Hump gawked at the book. He may not have glimpsed anything from Kelisia’s glyphs, but this managed to record them.

“What are you doing?” Celaine asked.

Hump snapped his book shut. “Just making a note of it. Studying these things is how we wizards first learnt to use magic.” He returned his book to his belt, heart racing as he processed what just happened. His book now contained two blessings. If he could figure out how they work… theoretically, he could replicate them with his own magic. He would need to find time to study them later. For now, he turned to Bud. “Do you want to try it out?”

Bud nodded excitedly. “Absolutely.” He closed his eyes and began muttering a chant under his breath. Hump felt a gentle breeze stir around the knight, carrying with it a chill. Faint blue light streamed from him, but instead of dissipating into the air, it surrounded him. That same fire burnt in his eyes once more. He flexed a hand and stared at it. “I definitely feel something.” He drew his sword, and flame burst from its scabbard, larger than before. Bud startled and held it away from him. “Whoa. I didn’t do that on purpose.”

Hump scratched his chin. Even now, he couldn’t catch a glimpse of how it worked. The Frostfire was colder than before, and brighter, but other than appearances it was completely beyond him. In the end, he shook his head and gave up. Perhaps a greater wizard could decipher the secret of Frostfire, though Hump doubted it.

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” Vamir said out of nowhere. He was standing nearby, watching them from between the trees. There wasn’t a mark on him, but he looked tired.

“So busy we impressed a god,” Hump said.

“I gathered,” Vamir said. “The big blue pillar kind of gave it away. Congratulations, Bud. Receiving a blessing on your first dungeon is really quite the feat. You’re a second circle Chosen now.”

Bud grinned. “Thank you. It’s a relief to know I walked the right path in coming here.”

“There’s still a way to go on that path,” Vamir said. “I’m afraid we don’t have time to celebrate. I found the kobold den.”

“How?” Celaine asked quickly. “You’ve not been gone for long.”

Vamir grinned. “Ah, my young apprentice, when will you cease to be surprised at my skills.”

Celaine blushed. “I’m not surprised! I just want to know how.”

Vamir noticed the injury on Celaine’s shoulder and concern flashed on his face. She turned away before he could get a proper look, but Vamir strode forward.

“Wait,” he said. “Let me see it.”

“I’m fine,” she said, but she let him have a look anyway.

“It’s a puncture wound,” Vamir said. “I don’t think there’s any poison, but Hump, give her that common antidote just in case.”

Hump nodded. Celaine winced as he applied part of the salve directly on the wound but didn’t even flinch when he applied the bandage. “If it suddenly starts to hurt, you need to tell me.”

“I will,” she said. “But it didn’t go deep, really. It practically fell out on its own. We’ve got more important things to do than worry about a minor wound.” She glared at Vamir. “So, how did you really find their den?”

Vamir tapped the side of his head sagely. “Careful and precise calculation.” Celaine crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes further. “And I may have followed one of the kobolds back.”

Hump snorted.

“What about the other scaledbrute?” Bud asked.

“Dead,” Vamir said. “Judging from the fact that you’re all alive and our budding young knight levelled up, I take it the other one is dead too.”

Hump nodded. “We didn’t get its heartstone yet.”

“It can wait,” Vamir said. “Villagers first. I don’t want to give what’s left of the kobolds a chance to do anything nasty. And all that fighting must have got the notice of some of the other dens. Best we get moving before reinforcements arrive.”

TWENTY-ONE

KOBOLD DEN

Hump knew Vamir was fast, but as they raced through the grove, it was his first time truly seeing the man in action. He moved as silently as a wolf, easily staying ahead of them while still on the lookout for any traps along the way. Judging from all the random twists and turns they’d taken, Hump gathered there was a hell of a lot of them.

The thick canopies and curtains of vines made it near impossible for Hump to maintain any sense of direction. They were no longer sticking to the cavern wall. Instead, Vamir directed them through the thick foliage, taking the most direct route to the kobold den. Occasionally he glimpsed the cavern wall, a looming darkness in the distance, its surface spotted with pale flowers and vines that hung above the grove.

When Vamir finally brought them to a stop, Hump was breathing hard. Physical endurance had never been one of his strong points, and right now even Bud struggled—though, to be fair to the knight, he was wearing heavy armour.

Hump felt as if he were at death’s door. His lungs burnt with a fire while the rest of his body was freezing cold. He wanted to throw up and pass out at the same time, and a painful stitch had been stabbing at his stomach for the last few minutes. He was pushing himself hard. The aftereffects of the Essence Elixir were beginning to subside, but he’d put a lot of power into that last spell. There was little of it left to fill the gap in his core from all the essence he’d used. At least by keeping moving he’d staved off the worst of the cold.

“What’s out there?” Hump managed.

Vamir and Celaine were both scanning the ground ahead.

“Lots of traps,” Vamir said. “We’re going to have to proceed more carefully from here. I’ll take the lead. Follow every step I make unless you want to try your luck on a kobold trap.”

“Are there truly so many?” Bud asked. “I see nothing amongst the grass.”

“You tell me,” Vamir said. He stepped forward with intention, pressing something with his foot and then jumping back out of the way. A shadow descended from the tree above, as big as a table, suspended on a thick rope. The rope went taut, catching the object before it struck the ground so that it hung there around knee height. The entire underside of the board was covered with spikes.

Hump scrunched his nose and let out an uneasy groan, searching the ground around him fearfully. “I hate traps. I hate them so much.”

“There’s a lot more like this,” Vamir said. “And some simpler traps too. Many involving snakes and bugs.”

“What a horrible way to go,” Bud said.

“Not all of them are designed to kill,” Celaine said. “Traps are often more effective if they leave their victims alive. It’s more terrifying that way for both the victim and their team. And it leaves them with a wounded party member crying out in pain and constantly giving away their position.”

“You know a lot about this,” Bud said.

Celaine nodded. “Where we come from, they’re a big part of how we’ve survived as long as we have.”

“It’s dangerous where you’re from then?” Bud asked. “What am I even asking? Of course it’s dangerous. The Pantheon protects us here.”

“Tell that to the people of Hursdale,” Celaine said.

“Let’s not get into this,” Vamir said. “We need to keep moving.”

“I need,” Hump breathed, “a minute.”

“You need more exercise,” Celaine said, smirking. Her breath was as light and easy as ever.

Hump glared at her, willing daggers to shoot from his eyes. “Not everyone has a god’s power to draw on.”

“Don’t you have a spell or something?” she asked.

“I have a couple in my book that would help,” Hump said. “They’re just extremely specific.”

“Specific how?”

“One requires the freshly harvested heart of a deer,” Hump said. “And I’d have to eat it raw.”

Celaine wrinkled her nose. “Why do you carry that book around if it’s full of useless spells?”

“Hey!” Hump took another deep breath. “Leave my book alone. They’re not all useless.” It shook hard on his belt, making him stumble to the side.

Celaine tilted her head to look at his book. “Was that your book?”

“You’re imagining things,” Hump said, straightening.

“If you two are done,” Vamir said, “I think the villagers might appreciate our help. No rush, of course. Don’t let me stop you.”

Hump looked away from Celaine and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’m ready.”

“Good,” Vamir said. “Stay close.”

“Hell, I’d hug you if it keeps me from losing a leg,” Hump said.

Vamir smiled dangerously. “Keep annoying me and a hug won’t save you.”

“Brilliant.” Hump stared at the ground around him, trying to see through the thick undergrowth and tall blue grass, yet he couldn’t even see the ground, let alone any sign of a trap. It was like walking a tightrope, except, instead of falling to a painless death, he was a step away from getting filled with holes. He forced himself to think positively. Imagining what was in there just made it worse: poisonous snakes, poisonous insects, poisonous everything. Taking that first step felt like walking a mile, and it didn’t get easier.

The den’s entrance was camouflaged behind layers of well-placed bushes and vines. Bud’s Frostfire made short work of it, freezing the foliage and then smashing through the brittle ice. Efficient, and it avoided spraying deadly sap everywhere.

They paused outside the entrance. It was more a crack than it was a tunnel, and there wasn’t a single bit of light inside. If Vamir hadn’t brought them straight to it, Hump could have easily mistaken it for a shadowy crevice even without the camouflage in front of it.

Vamir led the way inside, followed by Celaine, with Hump coming third. He shuffled on through, the roof so low it almost touched his head. He was forced to walk sideways at the narrowest point, but once they were through, it opened into a wider tunnel that allowed them to stand side by side, though Vamir had to duck his head. Inside, thousands of tiny fungi grew in the cracks of the wall and along the edge of the path, filling the tunnel with a dim white glow.

“I’m not sure Bud’s going to fit,” Hump said.

He heard Bud’s armour scrape against the walls before he saw the knight. He hobbled in like a crab, holding his breath while bending his knees to keep his head from hitting the roof. At the narrow point, his sword caught. Bud fumbled for the belt, removing his scabbard and holding it in his hand. He drew a deep breath, sucking his gut, then forced his way through.

Hump arched an eyebrow. “I’ll be damned, guess I was wrong!”

Bud looked back at the gap nervously. “I just hope I can get back out.”

“You’ll be fine,” Vamir said. “No light from here. I’ll lead. Give me some space.”

They made slow progress through the tunnel. Every couple of minutes, Hump heard a bang behind him, followed by a pained grunt. Each time it took all his wizard-trained focus to keep from bursting out into laughter. This was one of those moments he was glad to be short. He and small spaces meshed like two peas in a pod. With Vamir leading the way, and Celaine playing the role of secondary sweeper in search of traps, Hump had nothing to do but keep out of the way. Unfortunately, that left him far too much time for nervousness and fear to set in.

They were in a dark tunnel—too small for them to run and likely lined with painful and deadly traps—so far away from help that if they died here, their bodies might never be found. It was a grim thought. One he tried to distract himself from by studying the fungi caking the wall. Like the plants outside, the light came from within them. It fascinated him that something so small could survive off the dungeon’s chaotic energy rather than burning up.

The tunnel curved around to the left, widening. Soon, the soft chatter of kobolds echoed in distorted tones. As they got closer, smoke, along with something foul, pervaded their senses. It churned up memories of the other prison, and a sinking feeling grew in his stomach.

There was a distant bang, followed by a muffled scream that sounded human even from a distance.

“We need to hurry,” Bud growled.

“Better to move a little slow than to let them know we are coming,” Vamir whispered. “Be patient.”

“Patience could get someone killed,” Bud said.

“Lack of it could get them all killed,” Vamir retorted. “And us. Now calm down and let me do my job.”

He was right. Hump hated it, but that was the truth. He gripped his staff so tightly it hurt. He wanted it to hurt. There was another scream, and Hump’s heart leapt with it.

“Kelisia’s mercy,” Bud whispered.

The tunnel forked, Vamir hardly needing a moment to figure out which path the chatter came from. Again the scream resounded, louder than before. The kobolds hissed and snarled, and Hump could swear they were laughing.

There was another bend. Beyond it, orange light flickered. Fire. The smoke smelt stronger here, itching at his lungs. They crept forward, Vamir first, Celaine falling back to allow Bud to take her place beside the man.

The tunnel connected to a small chamber, a small fire burning at its centre. Crouched over it was a kobold with its back to them, a member of its den lying injured before it. Across the fire, two kobolds held a woman by the arms. Blood dripped from her mouth. Her face was covered in bruises, one eye had swollen half shut, and the other stared at them, white with fear. A third kobold paced around her, a club in hand.

It raised the weapon.

Hump’s vision went red. Pure rage and hate filled him. He raised his staff, gathered what remained of his power, and…

A bowstring twanged.

Celaine plunged an arrow through the club wielder’s eye. For a moment, the creature remained standing, its body not quite realising what happened, then it dropped to the floor in a lump.

The woman screamed. She fought frantically to break free of the kobolds that held her. The two creatures let her go, snarling and shouting at each other as they tried to figure out what was going on. The woman hit the ground and scrambled back out of sight from the tunnel.

One of the kobolds pointed at them, snarling again and directing the other three to see them. They each took a step back. Their snarls went silent. Fear filled their eyes, and Hump soaked it in. Power raged within him.

They were right to be afraid.

TWENTY-TWO

RAGE

Hump didn’t think as he stormed into the chamber. He stabbed his staff into the stomach of the closest kobold, the one that had been crouched over its injured comrade just a moment ago. It doubled over from the force of the blow, letting out a winded scream. Before it could fall to its knees, Hump snarled, “Blast!”

Where the strike from his staff did some damage, Essence Blast turned the kobold to mush. It shot back through the air, hitting the chamber wall at the back with a crack. For a moment, it stuck to the stone as if its body were suspended by some invisible force. Then slowly, it slid down to the ground where it lay still. A trail of blood stained the wall behind it.

Hump glared around the chamber like a feral beast, all tiredness forgotten. Anger welled within him, his essence burning within him in kind. The other kobolds backed away. The injured one scrambled back, unable to stand, gasping in pain from an arrow in its side.

Hump looked past them, his eyes falling on the bodies of two men hanging from a wooden beam by their ankles toward the back of the cave. Their necks were slit. Blood still trickled from the wounds, collecting in buckets on the ground beneath them. Only a step or two away was a large cage with a dozen or so prisoners inside, their faces a mess of bruises and cuts, visible even through the dirt and grime. Around the cage, skulls hung from the bars, staring in at the prisoners as if to remind them of their fate. Bloody flesh still clung to the bones.

Vamir cut down another of the kobolds with his sword while Bud darted to the back of the chamber where the final creature stood. He moved fast—noticeably faster than Hump had seen him move before—and a trail of blue light followed, a sign of his new blessing. He plunged his sword through the chest of the final kobold and flung it to the ground.

Only the injured one at Hump’s feet remained.

Hump stared down at it, the creature crying and shrieking in that sickly chittering tongue. It sounded like it was begging for its life. Hump wondered how many people it had killed that were doing the same. His rage burnt like fire. He clenched his fist around his staff, imagining all the terrible things he could do to it. He wanted to tear it apart. He wanted to rip it limb from limb and feed it pieces of itself until it choked on its own blood. He wanted it to suffer as these people had.

His essence reciprocated his hate. The icy cold of essence overuse replaced by the burning heat of his rage. It stormed within him, slamming against his insides, desperate for release. Begging to be set free. Urging him to give himself to it.

Gods how he wanted to. The things he would do to this beast…

“Hump,” Celaine said, “are you okay?”

Hump whirled around to face her, and… she recoiled. Her eyes held his, muddled with confusion.

‘Will you control the magic, or will the magic control you?’ The old man’s words echoed in his mind.

Hump forced himself to take a breath and let go of his rage. After a few seconds, he nodded at her. “I’m good,” he said, though even to his own ears he sounded distant.

He wasn’t good.

He’d failed at the most important thing a wizard could do by allowing his emotions to control him. By letting his magic control him. Wizards needed to be wise with how they used their power. If he couldn’t handle that, he would lose himself to it, and every wizard knew where that path led. Warlocks were no different from the monsters Hump sought to destroy. Twisted into mere puppets by their essence, consumed by emotion, their souls damaged and warped, changing the very thing that made them human. The old man would have been disappointed in Hump for coming so close, and that thought stung.

Chin up, he thought to himself. Collect yourself. Now’s not the time.

He drew another deep breath, using the River and Waves technique to calm himself. He envisioned the channels of the river coursing through him, connecting every part of his body. Into its waves, he released his rage and the storm of power that surged through him.

Celaine studied him for a moment, glanced down at the injured kobold, then looked away in disgust, turning her attention to the beaten woman lying on the ground nearby. She hurried over to her side and knelt to inspect her.

The woman threw her arms around Celaine’s neck, hugging her tightly as she sobbed. Thanking her again and again. Celaine held her arms out at her sides as if she didn’t know where to put them, then awkwardly wrapped them around the woman.

“You’re okay,” Celaine said softly. “We’ve got you now. We’re going to get you all out of here.”

Hump looked down at the cowering kobold beneath him and paused. He wasn’t going to allow his power to control him, but that didn’t mean he’d spare it. These creatures were beyond mercy.

“What do we do with it?” Bud asked nearby. He’d opened the cage and was helping the other villagers free. They hobbled out in a cluster, appearing starved and beaten, perhaps even worse than those they’d found in the other chamber. The kobolds had been cruel to them.

Hump didn’t even glance at the knight as he raised his staff in both hands and drove it down against the creature’s head with a thunderous crack. Its skull caved in beneath the blow, and the kobold went still.

“Hump!” Bud said, shocked. “Gods, Hump, it was at our mercy.”

Hump looked at him coldly. “Then it should count its lucky stars it got to die quickly.”

The knight frowned at him. His eyes went to the weeping woman, the two bodies strung up and bled dry, the cluster of emaciated prisoners. “Yeah. I guess it should.”

“Not like the stories, is it?” Hump said, a little more harshly than he intended. This was, after all, a harsh reality, and he was far too tired to care. His body felt heavy. The chill had returned now that he was thinking straight again. He wanted a quiet place beside a fire to sit down and a bowl of hot soup, but there was still work to do before that.

“It’s worse,” Bud said quietly. His eyes looked distant. Hollow. He turned and faced the villagers and the crying woman in Celaine’s arms.

“Bud…” Hump began, but before he could finish, the knight turned back to him, a new light in his eyes. In them, Hump saw all the courage and valour of a knight.

“This is why what we do is so important,” Bud said. “We did the gods’ work today, I’m sure of it. Kelisia was guiding us.”

Hump replied with a frown. Any god that had guided his hand today was no god he’d want to follow. What he’d done hadn’t been honourable. It had been cold, calculating, and monstrous. He knew it was necessary—they could not allow a kobold to go free—but it was his lack of guilt that worried him. The creature had begged, and he’d slaughtered it.

“I’ll see to the villagers,” Bud said. He turned away, back straight, somehow managing to force a smile onto his face.

Hump watched the knight introduce himself to the remaining villagers, freeing them from their prison and taking charge as if it were second nature. They didn’t need a hedge wizard. They needed a Chosen. They needed to feel like the gods were watching over them and that there was meaning behind their suffering. Bud gave them that. Hell, maybe the knight was right, and the gods really were watching.

Hump limped over to where Vamir stood near the back of the den, leaving Bud to play his role as the noble knight. The den sloped downward into a shallow pit. Blue leaves and grass gathered from the grove were strewn about to form a nest, and on them were eggs. Lots of eggs. Most were about the size of a fist. Their shells were pale red and lined with black veins, and toward the back were a handful that were larger. The scaledbrutes must have been a pair.

“I didn’t know kobolds lay eggs,” Hump said.

“How did you think they reproduced?” Vamir asked.

Hump scratched his head. “I don’t know. I kind of just thought the dungeon manifested them.”

Vamir smiled thinly. “It does. However, dungeons aren’t very creative. The reason the ancient dungeons are so dangerous is because the monsters within have had time to evolve. To pass down their traits to their offspring. Generation after generation they become stronger, until we have monstrosities like the Hell Pit and the Eternal Dark.”

They were familiar names: two dungeons at the core of the Fallen Lands that had never been conquered. Legend said that Chosen had once delved into their depths and fought back against the darkness within. But that was long ago. Now the dungeons formed the very foundation of the Fallen Lands, a bastion of evil from which monsters and other dungeons constantly expanded, claiming towns and villagers as the years went on. It took half a kingdom’s worth of resources just to hold them at Alveron’s borders.

“I didn’t know that,” Hump said. “I feel like I should have, though.”

Vamir shrugged. “It’s not exactly common knowledge.”

“You’ve studied this?” Hump asked.

Vamir glanced at him. Hump remembered the flare of a veil he’d seen across the man’s face on the first day he’d met him. That aura of power. “In a way,” Vamir said.

Whatever that meant, Hump knew better than to pry. He nodded toward the eggs. “What do we do with them?”

Vamir frowned. “You think they’d go well on toast?”

Hump gawked at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Obviously,” Vamir said dryly. There was no amusement in his tone. “Burn them for all I care.”

Hump felt himself gently shoved aside. “Hey, watch it…” he trailed off.

A young girl stomped past and into the nest. She held a kobold club in her hand.

Without hesitation, she smashed it down on the closest egg. Then the next. She screamed as she brought the club down again and again in a frenzied fit of rage. Hump watched, frozen in place. The eggs splattered everywhere, covering the girl in yolk as red as blood and staining the rest of the nest. The other villagers came to watch. A few joined in. Hump could only stand there silently as they tore what remained of the kobold nest to pieces.

The girl stood amongst the mess breathing heavily, her black hair covered most of her face, but one hollow blue eye peered out from within. Tears carved streaks through the dirt on her cheeks. Her clothes, little more than dirty rags, draped off her like hand-me-downs from an elder sibling.

Hump thought he understood. She may no longer be caged, but there was no escaping the trauma she’d suffered. The horror. She would never be able to unsee this. He startled as she let loose a final, frustrated scream, falling to her knees amongst the broken eggs. Her head drooped as she cried, only moving when another of the villagers managed to coax her from what remained of the nest.

Hump stood in silence. The sight of her made his heart break.

TWENTY-THREE

AFTERMATH

Hump forced himself to work. His body ached, his mind screamed at him to rest, but he knew that if he took even a moment it would be hard to keep going. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He didn’t want to smell the blood or the rot, or see the dead kobolds or the men that had been hung from the roof to bleed. He was sick of it all. But the job wasn’t done. And that’s what this was—his job. He was a hedge wizard now, not an apprentice, not a child. He had a living to make, monsters to kill, and people that were counting on him. That meant he needed to be thinking straight.

They’d been given a large pouch full of hard biscuits and an extra flask of water at the forward fortification, and now he handed it out to the villagers. It wasn’t much, these people needed more than a bite to eat, but at least it was something to keep them going.

Working with an elderly man that had taken charge of the group, Bud had everyone ready to leave within minutes. There was no time to waste. Kobold reinforcements would arrive before long, and considering the condition of the villagers, Hump was certain they weren’t going to outrun anyone, let alone another couple of salamanders.

They made it through the trap-infested area outside the kobold den without injury, which was a small miracle on its own. Once they reached the cavern wall, Vamir parted from them, leaving Celaine to take the lead while he left to collect the heartstones of the kobolds and scaledbrutes they’d slain.

Hump’s head was pounding when they finally exited the grove into the tunnel leading back up to the fortification. His potion of Second Life was wearing off, leaving him with a concoction of mild concussion coupled with the chills from essence overuse.

He may have used a tad too much magic in that last blast.

He’d been foolish. He couldn’t lose to his emotions like that, not if he wanted to stay alive. Fortunately, this time he’d suffered little more than a bump to the head. It was hard not to count the day as a success. The villagers were free, Bud had powered up, and Vamir would no doubt be returning with a good amount of loot.

All things considered, it could have been worse.

They followed Bud through the tunnels. The knight fit the role like a well-tailored suit of armour. He held the potion of Crystal Light Hump had given him overhead and appeared like a beacon in the shadow of the tunnel. It enshrouded him in a cloak of Holy Light. When he spoke, the villagers watched and listened in awe, hanging on his every word as if Kelisia herself spoke through him. Trailing at the rear, even Hump started to believe it. Perhaps it was more than simple coincidence they’d met, and Kelisia had a plan for them both.

Isn’t that just terrifying? Hump thought. Whatever plans a god had for a wizard, he was quite sure he didn’t want to be a part of them.

“Boo,” a voice came from behind Hump.

Hump leapt out of his skin, stumbling into the wall as he tried to turn around and bring his staff to bear. He gathered his will, his staff shining with blue light. Beside him, Celaine whirled around, dagger already in hand.

Vamir’s grinning face stared at them.

Hump let out a relieved laugh. There had been no sound, no light. Vamir might as well have manifested from the shadows to scare the life out of them. “That wasn’t funny. I almost blasted you.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Celaine snarled, not holding back even a little.

Vamir placed his palm on his chest and looked at her innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

Celaine scowled at him. “Did you manage okay?”

“No trouble,” Vamir said. “But we should keep moving. I heard kobolds in the grove. They’ve probably already realised what happened, though I don’t imagine they will have the numbers to chase.”

Celaine led the way for their trio. “Let’s hope not. I’m not sure we can go any faster.”

“And the heartstones?” Hump asked.

Vamir took a pouch off his belt and pulled open the drawstring. When Hump peeked inside, for a moment, he forgot the pain and exhaustion. All he had eyes for were the little thumbnail-sized gems of joy. They shimmered up at him like the most beautiful rubies, glowing from within. Each one of those was worth a silver coin on its own, and Kassius was doubling that as a reward for each kobold slain.

“How many?” Hump asked.

“Thirteen kobolds,” Vamir said. “And the two cores of the scaledbrutes. Not bad for a day’s work.”

“Not bad at all,” Hump said. If they waited until they were away from the dungeon and Bledsbury, the scaledbrute heartstones would probably fetch six silver each. With the kobold heartstones on top of that, he’d likely have ten silver once all that was divided up. That was good money. Half a gold coin for a day’s work. He could survive a winter on that easily, at a good inn too.

Vamir closed the pouch and returned it to his belt, and Hump gazed after it longingly.

“Your eyes are creepy,” Celaine said.

Hump glared at her. “I’m just glad to see our efforts have been rewarded.”

She shrugged. “It’s just money.”

“The three words of somebody that has never been broke,” Hump said. “Everything starts with money. Food, spells, equipment. Try spending a winter under the hedges and tell me that again.”

Celaine paused. “You really sleep in hedges?”

Hump frowned at her. “That’s what you take away from this?”

Her eyes gleamed. “So do you?”

Hump sighed. “Occasionally.”

“Huh. That explains a lot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smiled at him innocently. “Nothing,” she said, picking up her pace and moving up the line of villagers. “I’m going to catch up with Bud and make sure he’s doing okay.”

Hump watched her go. “Nothing my arse,” he grumbled under his breath. He turned to Vamir. “Did she learn her charm from you?”

Vamir snorted. “Hardly. She’s a natural talent. Count yourself lucky she’s letting you off easy.”

“It doesn’t feel easy.”

Gerard was waiting for them with a grim face when they arrived back at the forward fortification. Hump only needed a moment to realise why. A dozen wounded lay on makeshift beds, the medical team struggling to cope with the numbers. Kassius’ party had yet to return, but his eyes found Meera immediately. The paladin was on one of the beds, her thigh completely coated in blood. The armour around the wound had been crushed, bending inward so that it gouged into the flesh beneath. She lay there with her eyes closed, one hand pressed to her head, the other held by a man of her party. Every member of her group carried some sort of wound, and the count was one short. Someone was missing.

The wounded lay groaning and wailing. There was blood everywhere. It stained their rag clothing in patterns of deep red flowers.

“What happened?” Vamir asked.

Around them, the other villagers hurried forward into the camp, searching for familiar faces.

“They were caught on their way out,” Gerard said. “There was a big fight. Even the villagers were part of it. Meera bought them time for them to reach us, but she suffered for it.”

“Emirai’s mercy,” Bud said. “Where’s Kassius?”

“No news from him yet,” Gerard said. He sighed, looking over the wounded with the hard eyes of a man that had seen it a hundred times before. “Still, there’s more than I’d hoped for. With your lot, it makes thirty-four. Hopefully, Kassius finds similar success.”

“They might have run into trouble,” Bud said. “We should go look for them and see if we can help.”

“It’s still early,” Vamir said. “Get some food and rest. There’s no use getting us killed looking for them in kobold infested tunnels.”

“But if there’s a chance we can help, we should,” Bud said.

“If the rest of us made it, I can’t see him failing,” Hump said. “Not with Rathlar’s paladin with him.”

“We have time—”

“We’re exhausted,” Hump said. “Or at least I am. Let’s get some food and a bit of our strength back. If Kassius hasn’t returned soon, we’ll reconsider.” He glanced at Vamir. “Agreed?”

Vamir nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You’re right.” Bud clenched his jaw. “Damn it. I know you’re right, but it’s hard to sit around doing nothing.”

Hump clapped him on the shoulder. “Hard but important. Take a moment to catch your breath while it’s here. If you don’t, when the fighting starts you won’t be ready for it.”

His spellbook shook at his hip, calling for him to look inside, but there were more important things to see to first. While Celaine sought out a medic for her shoulder, Hump found himself some bread and cheese and took a seat in a quiet spot against the outer fortification wall. He could still hear the wounded behind him, but at least a part of him could pretend they weren’t there. He peered into the tunnel ahead of him, scoffing down his food. With each bite, a part of his strength renewed. The cold of using so much essence subsided, leaving only the pounding of his head to really bother him.

Only once he finished his meal did he open the Book of Infinite Pages. This time, the centre page displayed Bud’s Heart of Frostfire. It was a perfect recording, as if the book had taken the image straight out of his mind. Essence shimmered through the lines, flowing just as it had when Kelisia herself commanded them. Two circles of glyphs that possessed so much power, yet Hump didn’t understand a single one. But it was a start. Runes could be replicated, and if he could find a way to use essence like Kelisia’s, perhaps he could unlock what it was that gave the blessings their power.

He flipped through the pages, checking on his other spells, stopping only when he noticed a new addition on the page next to Rockshot.

SPELLBOOK

Dustshot (Rockshot Variant)

Alteration/Evocation | Battle Magic | Tier 2 | Range: Medium

Description

Call upon the power of the earth, crumbling stone to dust and sending it hurtling at your target.

Origin Spells

Rockshot

Notes:

y.917 – Sethril – A useful, non-lethal attack. Against opponents with vulnerable eyes it can make for a good utility spell, though its generally more effort than its worth. Be careful not to use too much essence, some types of rocks are prone to exploding into shards.

Huh, Hump thought. I’ve found a new spell.

The old man had always told him that it was during the moments of life and death that one developed the fastest. A combination of instinct, emotion, and need brought about the greatest improvements in one’s focus and intent. This must have been because of the Rockshot he’d cast when the Essence Elixir turned his essence more chaotic. He’d need to do some testing once he’d recovered and figure out exactly how it worked. Manipulating disintegrate like that on purpose seemed far more difficult than the accidental usage in the grove, and he didn’t like the idea of shards of stone exploding in his face if his control wasn’t good enough.

For now, he tried to unwind. He’d used much of his power in the fight, and it left him strained. He needed to loosen up and let his soul relax, so he channelled Transform Earth. The gentle shaping activity would ease essence through the channels of his body, helping to fill the parts of him that were coldest, speeding up his recovery.

He breathed deeply, taking in the essence of the world around him. It spread out from his core like a warm breeze, and he began to channel. The exercise took only a trickle of power, far from enough to strain him. He willed two nearby pebbles to roll across the ground toward him. As they neared, he brought them up into the air to rest above his left hand, suspended by twin tendrils of bronze light that connected them to him. With a thought, he began to roll the stones around each other. A pleasant cold burn bloomed inside of him, like stretching an aching muscle. Essence filled his breaths. Each time he felt a little of the chill diminish.

He focused on that sensation, and the stones above his hands, even the gentle scraping sound of them rolling over each other. His worries left him, his fear was gone, and he concentrated only on the power inside of him. The stones began to speed up, faster and faster, until it was beyond anything he’d managed before. They obeyed his command as easily as if he were moving them with his own fingers. His conviction was firm, and it was clear his control had improved.

“What are you doing?” Bud asked, taking a seat beside him. He held an uneaten piece of bread in his hand.

Hump let the stones fall, catching them in his hand. “It’s a shaping exercise. Just something to help me relax. My master used to have me practice every morning, but I’ve been slacking since we came here. Now seemed like as good a time as any.”

Bud grunted his agreement then stared blankly at the tunnel ahead.

“You alright?” Hump asked.

“Yeah.” He continued staring, pausing for a few seconds. Hump could see he was thinking. “It’s just… Is it always like this?”

Hump thought for a moment, putting his spellbook to the side. “This is the worst I’ve seen. The dungeons the old man went to were usually farther away from villages, and I never saw the worst of it. I didn’t have a staff, so it was often too dangerous for me to go with him, let alone actually fight.”

“What brought you back here?” Bud asked.

“Hedge wizards follow the coin,” Hump said, “and their apprentices follow them. It was just some stupid quest. Lord Hoffner’s alchemist needed some ingredients that could only be found in a troll cave. It took a wizard to harvest them. It all went swimmingly; my master and I didn’t have to lift a finger in the fighting, and then on our way back we heard about the dungeon opening, and it all fit together like clockwork. Just a shame a goblin shot the old man on the way here.”

“Fate is a cold mistress,” Bud said.

Hump shrugged. “He lived long enough for his hair to turn grey. Most adventurers count themselves lucky once that happens.”

“Do you never want to settle down somewhere?” Bud asked.

“This is all I know,” Hump said. “A man’s got to eat, and for that he needs to work. What about you? What brings a young lord like yourself away from their luxurious artifacts and castles? I don’t believe you’re here just to run away from an engagement.”

“You’re right.” Bud sighed. “It wasn’t just an engagement. My mother died.”

“Oh…” Hump paused. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It is as the gods willed it,” Bud said. He fiddled with the medallion around his neck, twirling the silver flame between his thumb and forefinger. “She gave me this before she died. For good luck, she said, but I think she’d have been better off keeping it for herself. She’d been sick for a while, but with spring on the way the priests said she would recover. It took her that very night. Not a day later, my father announced my engagement, and I… I just flipped. I demanded he call it off, yet he refused, so I snuck into the old armoury, took what equipment I could, and left.” He raised his arms, making his chainmail chink, looking even glummer than his armour. “That’s why I’m all rusty.”

“Gods, that’s horrible.” Hump had suspected there was more to the story than what Bud told him. Nothing as bad as this, but something.

Hump nudged him lightly with an elbow. “Hey now. It’s not the armour that makes the knight, isn’t that what you told me? What you’ve done today would have made your mother proud.”

Bud smiled. “You know something? I think so too.” He fiddled with his medallion, turning it over between his fingers. “It really seems like this is the path I was destined for.”

Again with the paths, Hump thought, though he said nothing about it. Instead, he raised his flask. “To those that have passed beyond the veil. May they rest well.”

Bud raised his own. “May they rest well.”

They both drank. It was only water, sour and stale from sitting in a barrel for far too long. Still, it was as good a toast as they could manage.

Hump let out a sigh. “But man, your dad’s an arsehole. There’s a time and a place. What’s his problem?”

“You know something?” Bud said. “I’ve been asking myself that for a long time.”

* * *

A little over four hours had passed when Hump was jostled from his doze by the arrival of a messenger from the front line. He was a skinny man, barely out of breath despite arriving at a sprint. Overseer Oswald had called for them to retire to the surface for the day.

“Kassius hasn’t returned yet,” Bud said as Hump joined them.

They were gathered at the end of the chamber, out of the way of the villagers and medics preparing for the trip back up. Meera stumbled over to them, supported by two of her party members. She was pale and couldn’t put weight on her leg, but she looked like she was going to be alright.

“Orders are orders,” Gerard said. “Without the support of the front line, I can’t risk sending my men in there. The place could be swarming with kobolds in no time.”

“Mine are done,” Meera said. “Even if I could still use my leg, my party is in no state to continue. I won’t lose another. We’ll escort the villagers back to the surface.”

Hump couldn’t blame her. He didn’t feel much like diving into the pit again. He’d been lucky twice now— a third time might be pushing it.

Are you really going to take the coward's way out? Hump thought. Kassius deserved more than to be abandoned in a dungeon. Thanks to him convincing Oswald to act, thirty-four villagers were free of that dark nightmare.

“We’ll go,” Vamir said, drawing everyone’s stares. “Someone’s got to make sure they get back okay, don’t you think?”

“Agreed,” Bud said. “I’ll come.”

Hump hesitated, a combination of his exhaustion and nerves compelling him to leave. But as much as he wanted to call it a day, he couldn’t just leave. He’d come to like his small party, and saving Kassius would cement his spot as one of the prince’s wizards. It was a risk, but one he felt he had to take. More than that, it felt like the right thing to do. Gods, Bud is a bad influence.

“And me,” Hump said.

They all looked at Celaine, who rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s not like I can ditch Vamir. I’m stuck with him.”

“Perfect,” Vamir said. “Gerard, can I trust you to hold the fortification. Give us a couple of hours to return. If we don’t, do as you will.”

Gerard thought on it. “Two hours. We can do that. But if they come for us in numbers, I won’t let my men die.”

“Understandable,” Vamir said.

“I’ll have reinforcements sent,” Meera said. “Even if I have to speak to Oswald personally. I wish there was more I could do, but I’m reaching my limits as is.”

“You’ve done enough already,” Vamir said. “Get yourself treated and tend to your party. The villagers will need someone to show them the way back too.”

Meera nodded to him gratefully. “Then I wish you luck.”

“Do you need anything else?” Gerard asked.

Vamir scratched his chin. “See if you can keep back a couple of those medics too.” He turned to the rest of them. “You don’t have to follow me on this. I can find them just as easily alone. And if a fight’s gone wrong, we’ll be too late anyway.”

Gerard nodded. “Understood.”

“Wonderful,” Vamir said. He looked across the rest of them. “Then once more into the deeps.”

TWENTY-FOUR

KOBOLD VILLAGE

The tunnel air grew hot on their approach to the boiling pools. The air rumbled with the sound of the essence water. When Hump had last been there, it had smelt of the human bodies stewing within. Now it smelt only of steam and stone.

They didn’t stop. Hump was glad for it. It was better not to stop. Better not to think of the things he’d seen down here. Though as much as he tried to keep his eyes forward, the bloody butcher’s corner in the prison chamber drew his eye. The sickly yellow light of the dungeon stones illuminated a brutal collection of knives that was still there, rusted and brown with blood. Beside them, the deep, black disposal pit—he dreaded to think what might be below. Though the cages were empty now, it still smelt foul. The battered and broken kobold bodies littered the floor, their blood staining the stone.

Don’t look, he told himself. Keep moving. Keep focused.

They hurried out of the chamber and down the opposite tunnel where the kobolds and salamanders that previously attacked had emerged from. It veered downward, connecting to a smaller chamber at the bottom where tables and chairs were still laid out. It wasn’t hard to figure out where Kassius had gone, they simply had to follow the trail of kobold corpses.

“They still have their heartstones,” Celaine said, kneeling beside one. A wooden spear lay beside it. It was cleaved in two.

“Leave them,” Vamir said. “They’ll still be here when we get back, and we don’t have any time to waste.”

The tunnels weaved a web, connecting chamber after chamber. Most were empty—only the bodies of the kobold guards that had been stationed there marked any sort of significance—but as they got deeper, they found living quarters. Straw beds on the ground, shoved together to form large nests where the kobolds now lay dead. Most hadn’t even had time to reach their weapons.

At each new tunnel, Hump marked the wall with his glowchalk; the last thing they needed was to get lost with a horde of kobolds chasing after them. The front-line assault had done its job well, and what remained of the kobold defences had been slaughtered. Hump counted over twenty bodies so far, each split into pieces. Limbs were missing, bloody holes pierced through their chests. Sure, there was the occasional arrow or small cut, but Hump’s gut told him this was the black paladin’s work. Only his greatsword could have inflicted such devastation.

There was a distant echo, and they stopped.

“Voices?” Bud whispered.

“I don’t think so,” Vamir said. “Sounds more like a stream. They’ve probably built their den around a water source. We must be getting close.”

Vamir crept forward, peering around the corner. The rest of them followed close behind. The light grew brighter, leaking into the tunnel from an opening up ahead. At the end, they found a walkway with a low wall that lined the far side. Stalactites hung from the roof forming supportive pillars where they connected to the wall. Beyond it, the rest of the cavern spread out. It wasn’t as large as the dungeon grove, and there were no plants or other foliage apart from small mushrooms growing in the stone.

Natural stone bridges crisscrossed each other in the air, rising hundreds of feet through the cavern, a web of pathways connecting the entire dungeon. And above them, the cavern roof was speckled with blue light, shining like stars. As Hump stared, he swore he saw them moving.

On the ground level, fifty-odd wooden huts spotted the land on either side of a stream that cut the cavern in two, stemming from a section of wall on the far side. At a glance, Hump could have mistaken it for any old village, barring the fact that it was the dead centre of a dungeon. The huts were small, more similar in size to tents than anything a human might live in, but it was still a settlement. Further proof that kobolds were more than simply monsters; they’d built themselves homes.

Throughout the small village, large glowing globes shone with blue light, reflecting in the stream. Two bridges connected the two sides, and while the huts were scattered, a pathway to the bridges had been kept clear. If not for the location, it might have been beautiful. As it was, Hump dreaded what they might find down there. It didn’t take a wizard to work out that a kobold village was a dangerous place to go.

At the back of the village, built into the cavern wall, a stone shrine protruded like a keep, towering over the small huts below, the rock illuminated by veins of green crystals laced throughout its structure. The great entrance was barred by an iron gate, and surrounding it was a battalion of kobolds.

“That’s more kobolds than I expected,” Hump said.

“Maybe Oswald’s attack was more successful than we thought,” Bud said. “Could they have retreated to the shrine?”

“No,” Vamir said. “They’re not protecting it. They’re surrounding it. I suspect our dear prince got himself trapped.”

“In the shrine?” Hump said. “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s at least three dozen kobolds down there.”

“More like four,” Celaine said. “We’re not fighting our way through, no matter how much we want to. There’s a bunch of empty cages near the base of it. I think Kassius got the prisoners out at least.”

Hump squinted, unable to make them out in the shadows of the wall. “How many cages?”

She shrugged. “A hundred maybe.”

“There could be a lot of people trapped in there with him,” Hump said.

“No wonder he took so long,” Bud said.

“Yeah,” Hump said, a grim tone to his voice as he realised the severity of the situation. “He’s going to need a damn sight more than just us for backup. We should go back and wait for the rest of the dungeoneers.”

“That could be hours,” Celaine said. “And that’s if Meera convinces Oswald to send them at all.”

“They’ll come,” Bud said. “He’s a prince. Oswald can’t just leave him.”

“That gate isn’t going to keep them out long enough for them to get here,” Vamir said.

“Maybe not,” Hump said. “But honestly, what are we supposed to do against numbers like this? Let alone the reinforcements that will arrive from the front lines now that Oswald’s attack has stopped. The bridge could be swarming with kobolds in minutes.”

“It could be,” Vamir said. “But it will certainly be swarming with them if we wait a few hours for reinforcements.” He stared down over the village. “I have an idea that might work. We don’t need to kill them; we just need to scare them off. And we need to do it before reinforcements arrive.”

Hump narrowed his eyes. “Could you elaborate?”

He did.

“That’s insane,” Celaine said. “Even for you.”

Vamir shrugged. “Kassius and his party are inside the shrine. The odds aren’t too bad. And kobolds are cowards. Hump, do you think you can do it?”

Hump frowned. “I’ll need to be close.”

Vamir nodded. “We’ll have to move fast, but we can get close.”

“Shh,” Celaine hissed. She pointed to the right. In the shadows, Hump saw shapes moving along the walkway nearby. Hump heard voices too, quiet chitters and squeaks. Kobolds.

“How many?” Hump whispered.

“Three,” Celaine said.

“Four,” Vamir corrected, looking over her shoulder. “Another is just beyond the corner.”

“We need a decision,” Vamir said. “Hump, Bud, you in?”

“What about me?” Celaine whispered. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“You’re my student,” Vamir said, smiling. “You do as I say. These two don’t have to.”

She scowled at him but didn’t argue.

Bud glanced at Hump. “What do you think? Can you pull it off?”

“I can do it.”

“Okay then,” Bud said. “If Hump says he can do it, then I trust him. What next?” He peeked over the ledge of the wall and stared down. “Think we can climb down and sneak past?”

Vamir leaned his head over the wall and searched the cavern below for another route, then crouched back by the wall. “Celaine and I could make it.” He shook his bow from his shoulder. “You two would probably break a few too many legs.”

“Then I say we go with Plan B,” Bud said.

“Which is?” Vamir asked.

He shrugged. “Anything that doesn’t involve breaking our legs.”

“We’ll have to take out the four around the corner,” Celaine said. “They’re not going anywhere.”

“If they make a sound, this whole plan goes out the window,” Hump said. “The entire plan relies on surprise.”

“They won’t,” Vamir assured him, making a sweeping motion with his hand, shooing Hump back. “Shut your mouths and give us some room to work. Celaine, think you can handle two?”

She shrugged off her bow and took two arrows from her quiver, holding them both in her right hand. “No problem.”

The two archers levelled their bows and nocked an arrow each. They drew back as one, their stances identical. Their bodies as taut as the bowstrings themselves.

“Now,” Vamir breathed.

The bowstrings twanged. The arrows shot down the walkway. A second arrow on the strings before the first even landed. Vamir chanted something under his breath, and they shot again. Hump stared down the hallway in time to see the first shadows drop. A half-second later, another followed.

Hump frowned. He waited, half expecting the fourth around the corner to let out a shriek, but only silence came. “What about the fourth?”

“Dead,” Vamir said.

“Corners don’t matter for Vamir,” Celaine said.

“Well, that’s oddly terrifying,” Hump said, staring at the man and wondering exactly what blessings he had to have such versatility with both sword and bow. He felt an urge to shudder. This was why he hated archers. He’d have never known the arrow was coming. Hell, even if he knew it, getting around his Shield spell would be easier than a corner. Once again, he couldn’t help but remember the danger he’d felt during their first encounter and the illusionary veil he’d seen over him.

“Best not to think about it,” Celaine said. “At the end of the day, if you’re his target, you won’t even know you got shot.”

Hump felt the blood drain from his face. “Brilliant. Thanks for that. I feel much better.”

Vamir smiled easily, as if he hadn’t just assassinated two kobolds. He shouldered his bow and led the way along the walkway, past the four dead kobolds. Hump paused to examine them, dark blood pooling on the stone beneath their still bodies. Up close, he could see where the arrows had found the creatures. Even at that distance, with targets hidden in shadows, the two archers managed to land four arrows through four heads.

Never get on the wrong side of a Chosen archer, Hump thought. Then he thought of Bud fighting toe-to-toe with the scaled brute. Gods, never get on the wrong side of any Chosen.

This was a dog-eat-dog world, and Hump was barely a pup.

Hump hurried onward, keeping low against the wall as he rounded the corner and followed the walkway until they reached a bridge that descended to the ground. Stepping out into the open made Hump nervous. He had a Shield spell on his lips for the moment he heard anything. He’d recovered a little in their rest period, though he was far from in the best of shape. With any luck, the first thing he heard wouldn’t be the arrow piercing his chest.

Once they reached the cavern floor, Vamir and Celaine left them in the shadows of a small crevice just outside the village while they went to scout the walkways above. Hump followed their gaze, though his efforts weren’t so much scouting as they were squinting at shadows and seeing nothing. When the two returned, Celaine’s face was grim.

“I don’t like the look of all these hidey-holes,” Celaine said.

“I don’t like that I can’t see a damned thing,” Bud asked. “Do kobolds have good dark vision?”

“They live in caverns under the ground,” Hump said. “What do you think?”

Bud sighed. “That’s exactly what I think. I was just hoping you knew better.”

“Less talking,” Vamir said quietly. “Stay close. If they start shooting, pray they’re bad shots.”

Hump groaned. His heart was pounding. Wizards and arrows really didn’t go well together.

“Just don’t stand still,” Celaine said. “You’re harder to hit if you’re moving, especially at ranges like this.”

They found more bodies outside the closest huts. The kobolds had been unarmed and disorganised. Kassius and his party must have caught them by surprise.

It was an eerie feeling stepping into the village. There was something all too human about this place. Curtains made from some sort of silk covered the entryways into homes, but a few of them hung open now. Hump glimpsed nests inside. There were eggs and various trinkets made of bone or wood. He spotted a couple of spears resting up against the walls. Buckets, rope, tools. It wasn’t that much unlike a human village. Hell, from the stories left to him in his book, he imagined many places in the world just like it.

They didn’t stop until they reached the bridge across the stream, where they crouched down between two huts. Hump’s eyes followed a flowing trail of blood to the body of a kobold lying dead beneath one of the glowing globes he’d seen from above.

The globe was moving.

Hump’s eyes widened as he realised what it was. “Glowworms,” he said. “They’re using glowworms for light.”

“What?” Celaine asked.

Hump pointed toward the globe. “Look at it. It’s moving. There must be thousands of them.” He studied the ceiling and its moving stars. “Millions of them. They’re all over the place. That must be where the kobolds get their silk too.”

“Fascinating as that is,” Vamir said, “perhaps now isn’t the time to get distracted. We get spotted crossing this bridge, and we’re as good as dead.”

Hump gulped. “Right. Sorry. I’m focused.”

“Good,” Vamir said. “Now then. Bud, Celaine, I want you both to veer left on the other side of the stream. Don’t stray too far from the bridge. We need a retreat plan if worse comes to worst. Hump and I will take the right.”

They nodded.

“Let’s move.”

They dashed across the narrow bridge in single file. Between the huts ahead of them, Hump glimpsed kobolds. They’d formed a perimeter of spearmen around the shrine, and for now, they appeared to be waiting.

There were more dead kobolds across the bridge. Dozens of them slaughtered. Their bodies sprawled out on the grey stone ground, blood trailing toward the stream they’d just crossed. Hump’s stomach heaved. He looked away. Friend or foe, the remains left behind after a battle were never a happy sight. It stank of blood. The air tasted of blood. It clung to the back of Hump’s throat as if he’d swallowed a copper penny.

Focus on the facts. Don’t get distracted. The kobolds must have made their stand here. These ones died fighting. Each was armed, and they were too close together for it to have been anything but a full-on brawl.

Reaching the other side, the four of them whispered their good lucks to each other before splitting up according to Vamir’s plan, heading for their positions.

Hump trailed after Vamir, moving as quietly as he could. He heard the kobolds talking to each other nearby and glimpsed their figures through the gaps in the huts as they passed. He didn’t stop, doing his best to keep pace with Vamir through the shadows, weaving between the huts, never out in the open longer than they had to be. The ever-looming risk of getting shot from some hidden darkness or spotted by a scout made Hump’s heart race.

And then they were in position, crouched up against the wall of a small hut, no taller than Vamir. Close enough for Hump to make out the clear chitterlings of the kobolds. The tap of spears on the stone floor. One of them yawned.

For a long two minutes they waited in silence, listening to the sound of the kobolds. Occasionally, Hump thought he heard other voices in the mix. Dull murmurs through the stone, unmistakably human.

When Vamir clapped him on the shoulder, Hump almost jumped out of cover. He smiled at him. “Give us something flashy.”

Hump nodded and watched the man go farther along the line of huts, finding his own spot.

That was it then. Hump was on his own, and it was up to him to start the attack. Something flashy.

He had just the thing.

TWENTY-FIVE

DRUMS OF WAR

Flashy wasn’t exactly Hump’s strong point. A fire sorcerer like Lantheer would have been far better suited for a task like this—no doubt the Chosen could have slaughtered half the kobolds on his own. Hump, though, had no talent for fire or lightning. And while tossing about a few rocks might look a bit intimidating, he couldn’t summon an avalanche. It wasn’t enough. Even if Hump’s master were here, he couldn’t have moved enough essence to make a spell like that work.

Which left Hump with one option.

He crept inside the little kobold hut he’d been crouched behind, taking care not to rustle anything. There wasn’t much to the structure, just a bed of straw and a few other trinkets. He ducked under a talisman that hung from one of the beams above, made of what Hump hoped were chicken bones. A pickaxe rested up against the wall, and a bundle of the same fruit he’d seen in the grove lay on the floor, wrapped up in a silk cloth. The place wasn’t exactly a house, but it was shelter, it was private, and it was a hell of a lot too human for Hump to feel comfortable.

He had the sudden sense that he was in a place he shouldn’t be. These were intelligent creatures. They socialised, made ornaments, and had children. He was a trespasser, invading their home to murder them.

Because they’re evil, Hump told himself. Because they capture and eat humans. Don’t be an idiot.

Still, alone in their hut, listening to the chatter of kobolds outside. Kobolds that might be dead in a few minutes because of him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a dark path.

But it’s a necessary one, he told himself. You’re protecting people.

When he thought about how much the kobolds had achieved in just a few weeks of existence, it terrified him. They spawned as adults, formed by the dungeon, but this village would have been built by their own hands. Already they were strong enough to invade nearby settlements. Hump dreaded to think how many tunnels they must have all over the mountains. It wouldn’t be long before they attacked more villages, and if left unchecked, the entire mountain pass could be under their control given a few more years. Especially if Vamir was correct about their offspring growing stronger. Bledsbury wouldn’t be able to stand alone against an army of kobolds. People would suffer. Entire villages would be devastated.

Hump focused on that when he began to gather power. The world was a dark and dangerous place, full of evil and bad luck. Some things couldn’t be solved with anything but violence. He had seen what the kobolds did to his kind.

The decision was simple.

He closed his eyes and drew a breath. Between yesterday’s fight and the one in the dungeon grove, he was far from his best state, but he’d recovered enough for a few big spells.

Envisioning the river within him, he cast all doubt and distraction into its depths and focused on his power. Magic stirred within his body, a prickle on the underside of his skin, flowing with the river as he gathered his will. The dungeon essence was thick here, and it wrapped around him as he channelled his own essence, the stirring of one drawing the other.

His master’s staff was a clever thing; the runes helped to control and contain the essence, and the heartstone focus was a perfect container. Without it, the amount of power he needed would be too much for him to control. If he were lucky, it would dissipate harmlessly. More likely, it would blow up in his face. Flashy, but probably not quite what Vamir intended.

The runes along his staff came alight with the clear blue light of pure essence as he willed more and more power into the focus, building it up until his spell was ready. He envisioned the spell formation in his mind, the many pathways and runes that gave essence intent. Blue vapour steamed from the runes as the pressure built. The heart of the crystal focus shone with a dull blue glow, growing brighter and brighter as the essence within grew denser.

Time was a wizard’s ally. Chosen could call upon the blessings of their gods in a heartbeat. They could draw on the power of their god’s domain on instinct. For Hump to replicate their skills, he had to draw upon his own strength and studies. He had no pool of godly essence to rely on, just his own and what was around him. So he took every moment he needed.

There was little complicated about Essence Blast, but a versatile spell that every wizard ought to know. It was the most basic of evocation spells. The first piece of battle magic he’d learnt. It converted magical energy—essence—into kinetic energy. Any blue light produced was a symptom of Hump’s lack of skill rather than a function. The less efficient and focused he was, the more light the spell would produce.

His master had always found his lack of control infuriating. Theoretically, it was possible to shoot a lance of invisible energy. Master Sethril could make the light slight enough that it was hard to spot in daylight if you weren’t looking out for it. Hump, though… well, precision wasn’t really his thing.

Normally, that meant a whole lot of wasted essence. But right now, Vamir wanted flashy, so that was exactly what he needed. So, he let his focus wane. He let his intent dissipate into thin strands of objective. He did little more than guide the essence to where he wanted.

When he’d reached his limit, Hump levelled his staff toward the hut wall. He drew a breath, power coursing from inside his core to the focus of his staff, all of it connected. All of it desperate to be set free.

“Blast!” Hump shouted, essence exploding from his mouth like mist, resonating in the cavern.

There was no target, no clear goal. He simply pointed the energy ahead of him and let it rip.

The runes along his staff shone brighter; light smoked off them in sweeping curls. The crystal focus flared brightly. Then a thunderous boom shook the world as raw power exploded from the end. The wooden wall evaporated in an instant, shattered into pieces that flung off in all directions. The wind howled around him, sweeping up his cloak, blowing back his hair. A wave of blue light swept through everything before him, a hurricane of force.

With the wall gone, there was nothing between him and the kobolds. Those that had been standing closest to him were blown from their feet and sent sprawling to the ground. Some were reeling from bloody wood fragments caught in their flesh, others lay unconscious or wailed in pain from the fall. Those still standing turned to him with fearful eyes.

Seeing that fear, he felt nothing but cold. Compared to what they did to the villagers, this was a mercy.

“Volley!” Bud roared before the kobolds could gather themselves, his voice coming from far to the left.

The kobolds whirled toward his voice in one startled movement. Arrows rained in from two sides as Celaine and Vamir unleashed a barrage of arrows with inhuman speed. Four kobolds dropped immediately, two dead, two screaming in agony. Other arrows struck stone and shields.

The kobolds staggered back, their formation broken at the sudden rear attack. One of the larger, yellow-scaled creatures shouted an order, trying to gather them.

“This way!” Vamir shouted from the right. “Cut them off! Don’t let them retreat!”

More arrows. His arrows didn’t kill. They took the creatures in their stomachs and backs, incapacitating them but leaving them screaming. It was cruel, but fear was their greatest weapon when so outnumbered.

“Through the centre!” Celaine called.

“Charge!” Bud roared. “Charge!” The crazy bastard really did, his sword aflame. A lone knight running at dozens. But the kobolds were scared. They were backing up closer to the shrine. Others fled toward the edge of the cavern. But at the same time, he noticed a few of them regrouping, gathering the others to form a half-hearted attempt at a shield wall. The plan was working. The kobolds searched the shadows for imaginary foes. But they were still only four against fifty.

“Come on, Kassius,” Hump whispered to himself. If the prince didn’t figure out what they were doing, this would turn ugly fast. He gripped his staff tightly. “Come on!”

A couple of the kobolds threw spears at Bud, the knight cutting them aside easily. He couldn’t fight alone though. Hump needed to move. But gods, he was cold. That Essence Blast had taken out a lot of his reserves. There wasn’t much essence left in him.

He forced himself to step forward through the space where the door had once been. He didn’t have the strength for anything fancy, so he began to chant the basic Wizard Light cantrip. Over and over, loud enough for the kobolds to hear. He flooded his staff with the spell's power, the crystal lighting up until it was bright as the sun.

He took another step forward, then another. Each time the kobolds retreated. With each word, they flinched, chittering fearfully amongst themselves. They shielded their eyes from the light and cowered beneath their shields.

Behind them, the iron gate creaked. The massive silhouette of the black paladin stepped out and loomed over them. They hadn’t noticed yet, but Hump had.

He chanted louder, levelling his staff at the group and calling forth Wizard Light once more. His staff flared like the hottest fire.

The instant it did, he changed his focus. Willing up a new spell. “Blast,” he whispered. A quick jab of power. Barely enough to stir up a wind, yet it sent the kobolds staggering.

From the gate, the black paladin took his first step toward them. His armour chinked, his sword rang as he drew it from its giant sheath. One of the kobolds noticed him and screamed. Before the others could get to grips with what was happening, the monster of a man was in their ranks, his greatsword a whirlwind of terror. Kassius dashed out behind him, his liquid armour shining as if the sun beamed above. The villagers charged with him, armed with little more than sticks and stones, but they had anger on their side.

At the same moment, Bud reached the front line and cut a kobold down through its shield, leaving a frozen wound along its body. More arrows rained in, piercing the backs of the kobolds that had now turned to face new threats. The cavern was filled with their painful screams.

Whatever fight the kobolds had in them dissipated. The creatures broke. A handful at first, and then they were all running in mindless panic, scuttling off into their tunnels. Bud charged after them a ways, then stopped and raised his sword over his head, roaring a battle cry that stirred even Hump to his core. Hump joined it, roaring with all his might. Celaine’s voice joined too, then Vamir’s, and Kassius’.

And then the villagers let loose their anger in a chorus of voices that shook the dungeon like thunder.

Hump’s heart beat like the drums of war.

TWENTY-SIX

DARK RITUALS

The kobolds fled, shrieking, scattering into their tunnels and disappearing into the dark. Hump shook with adrenaline. His throat hurt from screaming so hard, but gods, it felt good. They’d won. They’d saved the village, saved Kassius and his party, and they’d looked damn good doing it. Now they just had to get back to the surface in one piece.

There was relieved laughter among the villagers, and some quiet cheers. A few of them sat on the stone ground and caught their breath, still holding their improvised weapons in their laps. Still ready for a fight.

When the kobolds were fully gone from sight, Hump leant on his staff and took a deep breath. He tried to ignore the smell of blood, but many kobolds had died.

“Excellently done!” Kassius said, approaching. He wore a broad smile on his face, and Hump could see the thrill of battle gleaming in his eyes. “Where are the rest of your men, Vamir?” he asked, looking around.

“It’s just the four of us, I’m afraid,” Vamir said. “With any luck, reinforcements will be on their way, but it will be a long time before they reach us. Until then, we’re on our own.”

Kassius blinked, surprised. “It was a bluff?” he asked.

“Exactly so,” Vamir said. “Kobolds are cowards. If we could convince them of a large attack, I knew we could make them run.” Vamir grinned. “It was a dice roll. I guess it worked out.”

“Worked out…” Kassius shook his head slowly. “That’s incredible. Truly, I’m impressed. And that, my friend, is a rare thing these days. You have my sincere thanks,” his eyes passed over each of them. “All of you. You can be sure your efforts won’t go unrewarded; I can promise you that.”

Now that was a promise Hump liked the sound of. For their efforts, they’d certainly earned a reward. Though looking over the villagers now, and the near disbelief on their faces that they were free, he felt was rewarding enough. Still, a prince’s reward was nothing to scoff at. He’d never say no to a bit of coin, and a title like that came with a heaping ton of coin attached.

Kassius tilted his head back and barked a laugh. “Four of you just sent an entire kobold village running like rats. Genius. Pure genius. Imagine what the guilds will say to that. Those Silver Spear pricks are going to look like the bleeding cowards they are.”

Hump grinned. “Which is the only reason we’re here, really.”

“I’m sure! I’m sure!” Kassius said, smiling. “And don’t think that spell of yours escaped my notice. What was it you cast there at the end, Hump? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen light magic like that before. You truly did look spectacular. An affinity for light is a rare thing.”

“It was nothing that special,” Hump said quickly. “Really. My affinity with light is average at best. It was just a simple Light cantrip that I spiced up a little with an Essence Blast chained in at the end.”

“A Light cantrip?” Kassius asked, surprise clear in his tone. The rest of Hump’s party gave him a confused look too. “You sent a battalion of kobolds running with a bloody Light cantrip?”

Hump scratched the back of his head, feeling awkward. “Vamir asked for something flashy, and I didn’t have essence left for much else. Especially after that first Essence Blast. I couldn’t very well leave Bud on his own now, could I? So I improvised.”

Kassius shook his head and laughed. “The gods are truly blind to have missed you. Do not forget my offer, Wizard Hump, for when this is all over. I’ve plans for you, boy. Big plans.”

Hump made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “You give me too much credit. Vamir came up with the plan, and he and Celaine did the real damage. And I’d wager Bud was more terrifying than I could ever be.”

Kassius placed a hand on his shoulder. “Modesty is a fine trait in a young man. But of course, you’re correct, I have all of you to thank.” He turned to Bud. “Robert, my friend, there will be stories of this, I can promise you that. The Knight of Kelisia that charged head-on into a battalion of kobolds, alone, one man against dozens, yet he sent them running. The beautiful Celaine, whose arrows pierce hearts from a continent away. The strategist, Vamir, who plays everyone else for fools. And, of course, Wizard Hump, a beacon of light like the heralds of old. A reminder that old magic still has its place amongst parties of Chosen.”

“I’m not sure I’ve heard of any stories quite as dark as this one,” Bud said, watching over the villagers with sad eyes. In his eyes, Hump could still see Frostfire shimmering. He still hadn’t sheathed his sword.

“Perhaps not,” Kassius said. “Though you can be certain these people will tell the tale. And those at court shall hear of it too; I will make sure of that. The four of you will be famous! Not many people get to rescue a prince, after all. Again, to all of you, you have my thanks. To put it lightly, we were royally screwed. Now then, we must move quickly. How did the other rescues fare?”

“Successfully,” Vamir said. “Though Meera and her party suffered quite badly in the attack. She took a bad wound herself, and they lost a man getting the villagers out, but they made it. Our own efforts went well too. We were safely back at the forward fortification when Oswald sent news that the front line assault had ended and we were to retreat. Of course, by that point we were concerned something might have happened to you. Meera went back with the survivors to call for aid while we came to assist.”

“I’m glad you did,” Kassius said. “From the sounds of it, we likely have little time before reinforcements arrive. We best get moving.”

“How many got out?” one of the villagers blurted. He was a middle-aged man that wielded what Hump guessed was the handle of a shovel as a quarterstaff. He was a big man, a farmer or smith no doubt.

Kassius looked at him for a moment, pressing his lips together in thought. “Please understand, news is bleak. And we’ve yet to receive word from our scouts about the situation in Hursdale.”

The man nodded. “I understand. Just… We need to know.”

Kassius sighed. “Yesterday, Vamir and his party discovered fourteen of your people in some of the chambers nearby. They were able to get them out. It was only then that we first learnt of your plight. Our parties are a part of a three-prong operation that took place today to get as many people out as we could. From the sounds of it, the other groups succeeded in saving another thirty-four, on top of yesterday’s fourteen.”

“Forty-eight,” the man said softly, barely a whisper. He shook his head, tears in his eyes. “So few survived.”

“Are there more of you nearby?” Bud asked urgently.

The man gave a helpless shrug. “They kept us in the cages.” He looked from left to right, staring at the huts and stone around the area. “As you can see, there’s little we can know from here.”

Bud’s jaw clenched. He gave a hard nod. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m sorry we couldn’t be here sooner.”

The man paused, then nodded. “Thank you.”

Among the villagers, a few broke out into tears. They approached Bud and Kassius, calling out names, asking for news of parents, siblings, children, anyone that might be among the rescued. As they gathered around Bud, he stepped back, holding up his hands as if to calm them down, fumbling over his answers.

Hump clenched his fist tightly around his staff. What does one say to that? he thought. Funny how quickly victory could lose its glamour.

Kassius stood his ground, standing taller than most of the crowd, he held his head high, his face a rock of security in this place of death and terror. His armour shimmered with light, shifting with the fluidity of quicksilver. “People of Hursdale,” he began gently, yet his voice drew their attention as if he were speaking to each one of them personally. “You have taken the first step to freedom with your own hands, yet there is still a fight left. What has happened to you is beyond cruel, and I curse the gods that they have allowed it to be so, but you must stand strong. There are wounded in the shrine that cannot move on their own. If not for yourselves, stand strong for them. There is still work to be done.”

The villagers quietened down. Some nodded, and Hump saw determination in their eyes once more. Others looked like they had all but given up again.

“Your orders, milord,” the same man that had first spoken asked.

“What is your name?” Kassius asked.

“Borrick, milord.”

“Organise your people, Borrick,” Kassius said. “The strongest of you, search the nearby huts and find what materials you can. We need bandages, and stretchers for any wounded who cannot walk or be carried.”

“Understood,” Borrick said. And under his direction, the villagers kicked into action. He turned to the rest of the villagers. “You heard him. Strip down anything you can find.”

“Lyran, I want you on lookout,” Kassius commanded the rogue. “Find yourself a vantage point and inform us when the kobolds are growing near.”

“Understood, milord,” the rogue said, giving an exaggerated bow. He vanished in a poof of black smoke.

Kassius nodded. “The wounded are inside the shrine. Vamir, you know the skills of yours best. Do what you can.”

“I have some skills in healing,” Hump said. “It isn’t much, but I can see what I can do.”

“You know healing magic?” Celaine asked, surprised.

“Just a little,” Hump said. “I can partially mend bones and speed up the healing process of light surface wounds.”

“Don’t,” Vamir said. “Not unless you have to. Preserve what essence you have left. We might still need it before we’re out of this mess.”

Hump hesitated but reluctantly agreed. “Then I’ll stick to the healing tonics I have left and a few herbs I brought with me.”

Vamir nodded. “What about you, Bud?”

“I can assist inside,” the knight said. “I’ve been trained to deal with battlefield injuries. Unless you want me keeping guard, I’ll go with Hump.”

Vamir nodded. “That works well. Celaine and I will work with your scout. Get the people ready to move quickly. I have a feeling we won’t have much time.”

“We’ll do what we can,” Bud said.

There was nothing elegant about the shrine. The stone walls jutted out of the rock in thick, jagged slabs, shining with veins of the same green light Hump had come to dread since they arrived. From the outside, if not for the iron gate, Hump could have mistaken it for just another part of the cavern. Perhaps it was. The dungeon had spawned living creatures and carved miles upon miles of tunnels; creating a shrine seemed far simpler.

Inside, the sickly glow illuminated the wounded villagers. There was little space, so the injured were forced to lie side by side on the stone floor. Their pained moans sent chills through Hump. This had always been the part of being an adventurer he hated. He wasn’t squeamish but seeing such suffering in another person was something one could never get used to. It was something that stayed with a person, lurking in the recesses of one’s mind. A memory that snuck up unexpectedly. It made him think of his master in his final hours.

Hump gazed over the thirty-odd people that were in no shape to move and shook his head. It was too many. They didn’t have the numbers to move them all. They needed field medics and priests, not basic healing magic and first aid. Those that Borrick commanded still fit for work carried in water from the stream using some of the buckets Hump had seen scattered around the village. The silk covers over the hut doors were torn up into bandages or tied between tool handles and parts taken from the buildings to make stretchers.

Instinct drew Hump’s eye to the front of the shrine where there was an altar formed from a single block of grey stone and covered in dried blood. It was adorned with a human skull, a jagged black knife, and two black-iron cuffs that rose from chains in the ground on either side. Something about it made him itch. There was magic at work here, and it made his skin crawl and his chest tighten.

“We should get to work,” Bud said.

Hump ignored him and wandered forward.

“Hump?” Bud asked questioningly.

Still he walked. Something was there, something that filled him with dread. He leant heavily on his staff, feeling all the aches and cold of two days of fighting. With each step, the dread increased until he was staring down into a deep, dark pit hidden behind the altar. A musty and foul smell wafted up from its depths.

“Kelisia’s mercy,” Bud said, staring down into the hole. “What foul god do these beasts worship?”

Hump stared down into the darkness, a repulsive knot twisting in his stomach. Amongst all the black was a dull red glow. “Not a god. We’ve found the dungeon heart.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

DUNGEON HEART

SPELLBOOK

Chicken Fix

Healing | Ritual | Tier 3 | Range: Touch

Description

Create a sympathetic link between a broken chicken bone and a broken bone. Be sure to create the link AFTER you break the bone. Proper application of ingredients while maintaining the link will bind the bone back in place. While the bone will once more be functional, it is not fully healed. Strain may lead to more serious injury.

Notes

y.824 – Lector – Turns out voodoo’s not all bad. After a bitch—witch, snapped my arm in a furious, and dare I say it, extremely unjustified rage, she fixed me up with this handy little spell. Who knew chicken bones could be so useful? Just a note for future generations, never give a lock of hair to a witch, even if she is your girlfriend.

As Hump stared down at the dungeon heart far below them in the pit, he couldn’t help but take a moment to imagine how much would change if he harvested it. He was so close. So close to power and wealth beyond his wildest dreams. His name would be known across the land—the wizard that cleared the Bledsbury Dungeon, fighting alongside Prince Kassius. His days as a hedge wizard would be behind him, that was for sure. In many ways, perhaps they already were. If Kassius actually accepted Hump’s fealty, he might never be without a lord again.

“You found it then.” Kassius’ voice was like glass shattering.

Hump startled, nearly tripping down the very hole he’d been studying so intently. He looked at Kassius and paused. The prince must have known they would find it if they came inside the shrine, yet he’d failed to mention it when Vamir or Celaine were with them. There was a purpose to this. “It’s kind of hard to miss.”

Kassius snorted. “A blind man could find the hole. The dungeon core, however, isn’t so obvious. You’ve got a Chosen of Kelisia at your side that couldn’t tell what was down there.”

Hump looked at the knight.

Bud shrugged. “I didn’t feel a thing.”

“Sensing essence is a skill that takes practice,” Kassius said. “Chosen don’t need to understand the workings of essence to use their god-given powers. They simply work.”

“But a wizard has to understand,” Hump said. “Only those that have trained would notice.” He frowned at Kassius. “You can feel it too?”

Kassius smirked. “As I said before, I’ve dabbled in the arts.”

“Yet you fight with a sword,” Hump said.

“I’m a prince, after all.” Kassius grinned. “There is prestige in swordsmanship.”

“You’re a warrior practitioner?” Hump asked.

The prince only smiled.

“What use would it have for sacrifices?” Bud asked, glancing back down the hole, squinting as if to make out the core.

“Dungeons are alive,” Kassius said simply. “They require sustenance to grow. For it to create, something must be destroyed. And for life to be spawned, well, life must first be taken.”

“Isn’t that just lovely,” Hump said grimly. He coughed up a wad of spit and made his own little sacrifice, watching as the glob disappeared into the darkness soundlessly. “Have a bit of that.”

Bud’s face fell into his hand. “Hump, you just spat in front of a prince. Even I…” he sighed. “They’d eat you alive at court.”

“Hey! It’s not like I pissed on it.”

Bud opened his mouth as if to speak, but words didn’t seem to come.

Kassius laughed. “Bloody thing deserves as much. Horrible place.”

“Deserves a lot worse if you ask me,” Hump said.

“I don’t understand,” Bud said. “If you knew it was here, why didn’t you mention it sooner?”

“I saw no hurry,” Kassius said. “We’re in no condition to face whatever beast guards it, and our first priority is to get these people to safety.”

“And you wanted to see if I’d notice it,” Hump said.

Kassius’ face revealed nothing. “Perhaps.”

Hump realised he was being tested. Tested by a prince, and from the sound of it, the man was impressed. Once more, he imagined how much his life could change on this chance encounter. Bud had warned him against it, but was he really foolish enough to turn down a prince’s offer? Perhaps Bud could afford to, but small and common people like Hump didn’t refuse royalty.

A sudden, ear-piercing scream had them all turning to look. Two of the village men were lifting an old lady onto a stretcher. Both of her legs were broken.

Hump’s stomach sank. All other thoughts left him. Shame washed through him. He’d been distracted and forgotten why he was here. He’d let greed control him when there were people that needed help.

Vamir told him to save his essence. He stared at the intense pain on the woman’s face. The bloodied and bruised legs, swollen and purple as a plum. He could fix the break. The spell wasn’t perfect, but it would take away the pain. She’d be able to walk.

“We don’t have time for this,” Bud said, already walking over to an injured man that lay nearby.

Hump shared a guilty look with Kassius and followed. He went to the old woman first. As much as it pained him, she would have to wait. If his magic were needed later and he didn’t have the essence for it, they could all be killed. There were healers waiting back at the fortification, and with any luck, Meera had successfully persuaded Oswald to send some more down to assist. Other people that could tend to her properly once they were all out of immediate danger.

Instead, he took another vial of Second Life from his pouch and trickled a small portion into her mouth. Her face relaxed immediately, her pupils dilating as she suddenly came awake and alert. She tried to rise, but Hump pressed her gently back down. “I haven’t healed you, only temporarily dulled the pain. You need to stay down and let these gentlemen take care of you. There are followers of Lady Light waiting for our return, but for now, this is the best I can do.”

“Thank you,” she said weakly.

Hump nodded, forcing himself to smile, then stood. The other villagers seemed little better. Every wound he saw seemed taken by rot, which was no surprise considering the awful condition of the cages he’d seen. He focused on those that could walk. Speed was what mattered most here, and they wouldn’t get out of here faster by treating those that would still need to be carried anyway. He drew out a jar of paste from his potion pouch, made up of ground settle leaves, monomary, and barrowbud oil, applying it as a compress using some of the makeshift silk bandages the villagers had torn up. Done up tight, their wounds didn’t bleed too badly, and the paste would help to kill off the rot, aiding in the healing process.

To those that couldn’t be moved without screaming out in agony, Hump divided up his vials of Second Life. Other than that, there was little more he could do with his limited knowledge. He just didn’t have the time.

They were gathered outside within half an hour. The wounded were carried out on stretchers by their fellow villagers. It was slow progress transporting everyone from the shrine to the walkway where they first entered the cavern. Hump and Bud worked together to guard those at the walkway while Kassius and his party secured the rest still inside the shrine.

When Vamir and Celaine joined them on the walkway, Hump told them of the dungeon core.

“We’ll have to report it to Oswald,” Bud said.

“We could…” Hump said. “But once the major guilds catch wind of this, they’ll demand to be a part of it.”

“Are you suggesting what I think you are?” Vamir asked.

Hump shrugged. If they informed Oswald of their finding, the Overseer would be obliged to inform the other guilds as well. “The more people involved, the more the rewards are divvied up. Maybe we don’t tell Oswald. Maybe we come back down here ourselves tomorrow with a group of our choosing.”

“I thought the law states that the finding of the dungeon core must be reported to the Overseer,” Bud said.

Hump and Vamir both gave him a look.

Bud opened his mouth. “Oh. Oh, I see.”

“It happens all the time,” Hump said. “You think the Silver Spears and White Peaks would tell Oswald if they found the core? They’d just take it for themselves.”

“I suppose.”

“Better to burn bright and briefly than to never burn at all,” Hump said. “Isn’t that what you said, Vamir?”

“Precisely so,” the man said with a grin.

“‘Tell me that when you’re on fire,’” Celaine recited smugly. “Isn’t that what you told us?”

“Well, we have a prince,” Hump said. “Oswald can’t touch us.”

Even as he said it, his nerves grew. The old man would never have taken a risk like this. He wouldn’t be caught dead in the middle of a kobold village without an encampment’s worth of support. ‘Fools that take risks don’t live long enough for their hair to go grey,’ he’d said.

“None of this matters until we reach the surface anyway,” Vamir said. “And as things are, our chances are far from good.”

Hump frowned, looking over the villagers. A dozen people were on stretchers, twice that needed crutches to walk. He saw one boy that couldn’t have been older than himself, clutching a broken arm to his side and staring ahead with hollow eyes.

“We have to try,” Bud growled.

Hump tightened his fist on his staff. He didn’t voice what he was thinking. He couldn’t. Bud was courageous, honourable, selfless, and for some reason the knight deemed him to be so too. If Bud knew what he was truly thinking, that would change in a heartbeat—That they should leave the badly wounded behind; That they should save those they can, and not risk their own lives on people that probably wouldn’t make it anyway.

Just thinking it made him feel sick. He’d been caught up in the heroics, lost in a fairy tale just like Bud. But the world was dark and twisted, and people died. They died horrible deaths that nobody deserved. That was fact, whether a rusty fool of a knight wanted it to be so or not.

Hump was a hedge wizard. He went where the coin took him. There was no room for emotional attachment. There was no room for extravagant risks. One had to know when to cut their losses, otherwise, the only thing they would get is an early grave.

Or eaten by a dungeon core, Hump thought. He didn’t like the idea of being consumed and turned into another part of the dungeon, or worse, a kobold.

“Where are they?” Hump said impatiently, leaning over the walkway wall to peer across the village toward the shrine. He squinted at the darkness. Kassius still hadn’t left the shrine. “What on earth is he doing?”

Hump felt a pulse of power. It made his skin crawl, and his entire body want to curl in on itself as primal fear filled him. Every instinct he had screamed at him to run. A chill swept through him, and he shivered, goosebumps tingling on his skin.

Vamir approached the wall at his side in a rush, hands gripping the stone railing. He stared at the shrine.

“What the hell was that?” Hump growled.

Kassius and his party ran out of the shrine, hurrying the final villagers that remained with them on that side of the stream. It was only a handful, the strongest of the village men that had returned to carry across the last few wounded. Behind them, Hump saw more people coming. They were running, staggering as they tried to escape whatever it was that followed them.

One person drew close to the black paladin, a giant stain in the darkness at this distance. In a single, sweeping motion, the paladin cleaved them in two.

Hump’s heart stopped. Kassius lunged forward to meet another person who blocked the path ahead, taking their head off with careful precision. An arrow landed through a third, shot by Kassius’ archer, bringing them to the ground. Still, people hurried across the bridge.

“Bastards,” Bud growled. He had his sword in his hand. “Murderers!”

“Guys,” Celaine said behind them. None of them turned. “Guys! Look!” she snapped more urgently, pointing down the walkway.

From the darkness, four kobolds stumbled toward them, dragging spears and swords along the ground at their side. Scraping, grating sounds drifted toward them as the metal touched stone. As they stepped out of the dark, Hump saw the arrows in their eyes. The arrows Celaine and Vamir put there. Beneath the arrows, dark purple light shone.

Kassius’ party were not just murdering people. Those that pursued them were the fallen villagers, raised from the dead.

TWENTY-EIGHT

WHEN THE DEAD WALK

“The gods are punishing us,” one of the villagers cried, terror in his voice. They were huddled together at the rear of the walkway, just outside the entrance to the tunnel that led back to the surface. “We were never meant to escape!”

“Stop it!” Bud growled, low enough that Hump could only just make it out.

Among them, a child was crying.

“We’re going to die,” a woman wept. She was on the ground, huddled up against a wall, staring at the undead kobolds with white eyes. “We’re going to die!”

“Stop it!” Bud snapped, louder this time. “You’re not going to die. On my life, you’re not.” He drew his sword and Frostfire erupted along the blade, radiating a sweeping chill. He strode toward the undead, his face ablaze with Kelisia’s fire. Anger in his eyes like Hump had never seen it.

The four undead kobolds staggered onward like drunkards, spears and rusty swords dragging at their heels. They had none of their past speed or cunning. They were fuelled by death magic, driven by the hunger for life that it had given them. A hunger they could only sate with blood.

These four alone were of little threat, but what they represented made Hump afraid. The necromancer had shown itself. A necromancer powerful enough to create bonefiends, and that had now raised a village full of undead kobolds. That required a power ranking far beyond anything even the old man had possessed, and it wasn’t something that could have been done from far away. They were close.

Hump readied his staff, but Vamir stretched out a hand to stop him.

“Leave these four to us,” he said. “Save your power for when we can’t do without it.” His eyes were on the undead. For the first time, Hump thought he saw concern in them. Perhaps even fear. When someone of Vamir’s strength felt shaken, Hump knew it was time to be afraid.

Hump clenched his jaw, frustrated, but Vamir was right. He stepped back, positioning himself between the villagers and the undead kobolds. He’d leave this fight to his party. He felt useless. Weak. Like another bystander in need of protection. But he had his own role to play, one he’d pushed himself at too hard over the last few days, and now it had come back to bite him.

Foolishness, he found himself thinking again. The old man wouldn’t have tired himself out like an idiot. If only he hadn’t let his emotions control him, if only he’d conserved his strength better.

He doubted he had the strength left to put up much more of a fight, even if they needed it. That left him with only one option, and it was an option he didn’t like one bit. One he might not survive to regret.

Again he wondered what he was doing here. He’d done his job, earned enough coin for six months of hot meals at a cosy inn. Yet instead of quitting while he was ahead, he’d been caught up in Bud’s heroics and followed without thinking.

Bud continued forward at a steady pace, his blade extended at his side. A faint stream of essence escaped him in a way Hump hadn’t sensed before. It grew stronger by the moment, building into something that made Bud seem somehow larger. His skin took on a blue hue where his armour didn’t cover it, so slight Hump only noticed because he was looking. Only when the undead stepped within range did Bud allow that power to explode.

He planted a heavy step forward and lunged, essence streaming from him in shining streaks of cold light. Power radiated from him. The power granted to him by Kelisia’s new blessing. He bounded across the space in less time than it took to blink, sword whirling at his side in a wild, sweeping swing. In a single blow, he cut down two of the undead as if they were nothing more than training dummies. Even as they fell, ice crystallised over their wounds. Their scales fractured in a trail along their body as the fluids inside froze solid, blue ice spiking out from within. Not even death magic could keep them walking after that.

There was a twang. Celaine’s arrow found the remaining good eye of the third kobold, piercing into its skull so that two arrows now protruded from its head. Bud took another step forward and, gripping his sword in a single hand, drove it up through the creature’s chin and into its brain. It hung there on the sword, chin twitching in its death throes, suspended as it was frozen. When Bud tossed it aside, it hit the floor with a heavy crack like a boulder striking stone.

Vamir dashed in on Bud’s right, decapitating the final kobold with a well-aimed slash. The creature fell, but its body still moved, clawing at the ground as it searched for a target. Dark purple light shone out from where the blood pooled at its neck. Vamir stepped over it and drove his sword down into its chest, disconnecting its heartstone from the rest of its body and cutting off its lifeline.

With the walkway cleared, Bud turned to them, sword burning with holy flame at his side. Fire in his eyes, smoke streaming from his body, he was an awe-inspiring warrior of the gods. “I am Bud of Blackthorne, sworn Knight of Kelisia, and on my honour—”

A scream erupted in the cavern. The shrill, agonised scream of the dying. Bud went silent, his horrified eyes turning down to face the kobold village. Hump didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to see what was happening down below. They were so close now, so close to getting everyone out. So close, yet it felt like there was a mountain left to climb. He had dared to hope they would all survive this, and the gods had punished him for it. The Wizard’s Law was absolute.

This was no simple raise undead spell. It had brought back every kobold that had been killed. Every villager that had been murdered. All over the village, they swarmed toward Kassius’ party and the handful of villagers remaining with them down below. Between them, they carried two stretchers with wounded that couldn’t walk or run.

Hump spotted the origin of the scream, a middle-aged man that had been the first across the stream. He fought off three undead kobolds with a pickaxe, a bloody bite wound in his shoulder staining his entire left side in red. He jabbed at the kobolds with frantic strikes, but they were indifferent to the pain, and entirely without fear or hesitation. They overwhelmed him in seconds, dragging him to the ground where his screams echoed throughout the chamber. The sound shook Hump to his core. He was shaking when the scream went silent. Shaking so hard he had to grip his staff in an attempt to hide it.

Bud seemed frozen, unable to look away from the terror unfolding. The undead were funnelling the remaining twenty or so villagers toward the stream, blocking off the path up to the walkway. The black paladin held the bridge at their backs alone, an immovable shield against the tide, but he wouldn’t hold forever. Kassius did his best to coordinate a defence with the rest of his party, but they were flanked on all sides.

“How the hell did this happen?” Celaine murmured. She had an arrow on the bowstring, but she hadn’t drawn it back. She just stared, face white.

“Mass Raise Undead,” Hump said. He turned to Vamir. “We can’t stay here. That’s high tier magic. To pull a spell like this off, the necromancer would have to be…” Hump shook his head, hardly able to guess how many channels would go into a spell like this. “I don’t even know. Powerful. More powerful than any wizard I know. He may be Chosen too.”

“The gods do not deal in necromancy,” Bud said.

“Ours don’t,” Hump said. “But there are many gods beyond the Pantheon of the Twelve.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bud growled. “There are still people here, and it is our job to get them out. We’re not leaving.”

Hump stepped closer to him, talking quiet enough that the villagers wouldn’t hear. “And what if your heroics get the rest of us killed? We save who we can.”

The knight glared at him, eyes burning with determination. “Kelisia granted me this power for a reason. That reason is here. You can leave if you want, but I won’t. I’m staying.”

“Damn it, Bud,” Hump snapped. He paced to the wall. The black paladin still held the bridge alone, Kassius and his party forming up with the villagers to hold off the undead as best as they could. So far, most of the undead hadn’t noticed the small group of living trapped within the village, but that wouldn’t last long. “What do we do then?”

Vamir stared down at the unfolding battle, face contorted into a frown. “We clear a path,” he said finally. “The three of you with me. We’re going to get them out.”

Hump stared after Vamir as he ran the length of the walkway, rounding the corner at the end where he took the ramp down to ground level.

Bud looked back to the villagers. “We’ll get your people out. I promise.”

Or die trying, Hump thought, but he didn’t voice it as Bud followed Vamir. Hump glanced at Celaine, hoping she might have some more sense, but she only gave him a slight smile before following too.

Leaving him alone with the villagers, staring after Chosen as they rushed to battle. This was the difference between him and them, the reason he was just a wizard. The reason no god cared to look his way. He could fight for people, maybe even save a few, but when death came knocking at the door, that was his signal to get out. He was a hedge wizard. He followed the coin. If one wanted to live long enough to get a few grey hairs in this line of work, they had to follow certain rules, and they couldn’t cross that line. That was how his master had lasted so long, and Hump was supposed to do the same.

But they were his party.

“Damn them,” Hump said under his breath. “Damn all their bloody gods.”

He looked at the villagers gathered behind him. Hump’s heart was racing. Was he really going to do this? It was practically suicide. They were the old, the weak, and the wounded. Those still strong enough to help had been in the village, carrying the wounded out from the shrine. “Stay here and wait if you want to live. The tunnels back to the surface are lined with kobold bodies, be ready for a fight. If you don’t want to live, well, think about your friends and family that might.”

Then he was walking. He didn’t give himself a chance to think, nor listen to the cries of the villagers. The more time he thought, the more time the sensible part of his brain had to talk him out of it. The time for wizard’s logic was long gone. His party was clearly made up of idiots, but they were idiots he’d grown rather fond of. Besides, if he were really to follow the coin, he’d never met a purse as large as Kassius’. Saving a prince’s life a second time had to be worth a castle or two. At least, that’s what he told himself.

He raced down the ramp and hurried over to the others gathered on the outskirts of the village. And with more confidence than he felt, he stepped out in front of them. Bud and Vamir managed to reach the closest huts and had gained the attention of some of the horde, while Celaine hung back and picked off the stragglers.

“What are you doing?” Celaine asked.

“I’m doing the only thing I can.” Hump pulled out a piece of chalk from his pocket and knelt, drawing a series of runes that came together in front of him to form an arrow. “Bud, Vamir, get ready to go in. Celaine, I need you to cover me. I’m not entirely sure what will happen to me after this.”

He pulled out the glowing vial from his pouch, its heat making it easy to find even without looking.

“Are you sure about this?” Bud asked.

“I don’t see another choice,” Hump snapped. “Now go!”

Celaine glanced at Hump, unsure as he uncorked the vial. Bud and Vamir stepped aside, giving Hump a clear line of sight to where the villagers were clustered. A few kobolds had broken away from the group, but the two warriors wouldn’t give them a chance to slip by. Hump glanced once more at Bud, who gave him a reassuring nod. Hump didn’t need words to know it meant good luck. He sighed reluctantly, taking a moment to appreciate just how stupid he was being, then gulped down the entire vial of Wizardfire.

Heat stung at the back of his throat like hard liquor. It trickled down like honey, burning all the way to his stomach, where the heat grew. Power surged forth like a raging furnace, bellowing up through his veins and filling him with so much essence he thought it might tear him apart.

“Go!” Hump roared, his voice resonating with the essence that filled him. Then he levelled his staff toward the gathering horde of undead and began to channel.

TWENTY-NINE

WIZARDFIRE

Hump screamed, maddened by the pain, incensed by the inexhaustible power. He was ready to explode. Heat seared through him as if his blood were boiling, threatening to burn him apart from the inside. The pain fuelled his anger and desire to destroy his enemies. To rip apart the undead kobolds and send them back to the dungeon core in pieces.

Hump couldn’t quell his rage. There was too much essence coursing through him to control his emotions. He bared his teeth, fighting back against the power that would otherwise consume him. He sensed its intent. Felt it even. It urged him to unleash it, to give in to the essence and let it do as it pleased. Refusing it took all the discipline he had. ‘Remember the River and Waves,’ his master’s voice said to him.

He closed his eyes. He imagined the waters that flowed within him, channels that connected his entire body. They were more turbulent than ever. Vivid, violent torrents that tore through him with the force of a tidal wave, steaming with the heat of Wizardfire. In it, he threw his pain and anger. For a second, he felt himself thinking straight.

Then panic overwhelmed him. It wasn’t working. The torrent was becoming stronger, the waves threatening to burst free of his river. There was too much of it, he couldn’t keep up. He’d never seen it—never known it was possible for it to be so out of control. This was beyond him. It was ripping him to pieces from the inside, and all he could focus on was pain.

‘Deep breath,’ the old man said again. ‘Clear your mind, calm yourself, and calm the waters. It is a part of you, your will can command it.’

It was an old memory. One he didn’t know he still had. Back from when he’d first taken Wizardfire and it nearly killed him. Once more, Hump followed the old man’s instructions. He breathed long and deep, smelling the ghostly scent of his master’s pipe smoke as he turned his focus inward. He had swallowed this power for a purpose, and he wasn’t going to let it get the better of him. Failure wasn’t an option. He held that firmly in his mind and began to channel Essence Blast. In a heartbeat, the heat of Wizardfire eased.

Hump opened his eyes. The runes he’d marked on the ground erupted with the blue light of pure essence as they responded to his will. It rose from them like smoke until their projected forms hovered in the air around him.

The Essence Blast runes came together before him to form an arrow that aimed directly at the undead horde. Their corpses were torn and bloodied, leaking a sickly purple essence. Without the formation to support him, the power within him would be too much to control—not even his staff could direct energy like that. Not alone, at least. The spell would erupt the moment he tried to release it, exploding in his face and killing him before the undead had their chance. But the runes helped to contain that power and give it direction.

Hump took aim with his staff, gripping it tightly in both hands and lining it up with the arrow. He took another breath, solidified his intent, and began to channel all the power of Wizardfire into the end of his staff. The runes along the shaft came alight and sizzled with essence, hissing like steam from a kettle. Light spiralled around the heartstone focus like a whirlpool of magical energy. It was power beyond anything he could naturally produce. The essence lashed from it in twisting coils, slamming into the ground with a pop and streaking into the air around him where it dissipated. But the energy lost was nothing compared to the power at its core.

The lashings became faster. They cracked against the stone and churned up the air around him like a storm. His staff shook, and his entire body vibrated with it. His body screamed from the heat of essence as pain erupted through the veins of his arms like liquid fire. He was at his limit.

“Blast!” he boomed. His voice resonated with magic, deepening. Essence escaped on his breath. And all at once, the heat left him. A flash of cold spread painfully from his core as he was hollowed out by the rush of fleeting energy.

His staff flared. A beam of incandescent blue light shot from it with blinding speed, cracking the air with an ear-splitting boom as it followed the path of his formation. It was nothing like any spell he’d cast before. Even as it left him, he could feel the concentrated power within it. It shattered the space between them with a bang and landed amongst the horde a little to the left of where he’d been aiming. It exploded in a show of blue light, tearing apart stone, flesh, and bone—the force of all that essence converted to kinetic energy.

The cavern shook. The horde was blown apart in all directions. Limbs were crushed to bloody pulps, their chests and heads caved in or shredded apart by stone fragments. Not even death magic could keep them going after that. A small crater marked the ground where the spell struck.

Hump collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath, clutching to his staff just to stay upright. As painful as the cold was, it was a reprieve from the heat of Wizardfire. Already he felt it kindling once more, a pulsating heat rising from his stomach, fighting against the cold of essence overuse that slivered out of his soul.

Bud and Vamir were charging even as the undead hit the ground.

Some of the kobolds landed in the stream; others were hurled into the horde, knocking even more to the ground. Yet more pushed toward the group of survivors huddled together at the bridge, half a hundred foes that were without fear or pain.

Vamir was first into their ranks, his sword in one hand, a long dagger in the other. Both shone with silver. Each of his movements flowed into the next. He chopped into the closest creature with his sword, pulling it free as he drove his dagger into the face of the next. Then he spun, cutting out the legs of a third, his blades carving trails of silver light in the air. All three collapsed to the stone floor.

One still moved. It clawed its way toward Vamir, driven by the death magic that empowered it. The ranger knelt, stabbing his dagger through the creature’s heartstone in a swift strike. Not pausing for a moment, he lunged to his feet, plunging his sword through the chest of another kobold to his right. Carrying his momentum, he sent a vicious kick into the spine of another. Its back bent unnaturally, its neck snapped, and it went flying into the next kobold. Both fell to the ground.

At Vamir’s side, Bud attacked like a force of nature, empowered by Heart of Frostfire. His essence hung in the air around him like the presence of Kelisia herself, a reminder of her power. The undead kobolds seemed to rear back from that power, repulsed by the holy essence that surrounded him. He tore into the creatures with quick, powerful slashes, lopping off the heads and limbs of any that came into range. A deadly blend of ice and steel. Hump might have his tricks, but what Bud possessed was pure and god-given power. When Bud felled them, they did not rise again. Their bodies were crystalised, purged of the death magic that fuelled them, consumed by the ice.

Together, the two tore through the undead ranks. Vamir seemed to dance between them, each cut graceful. Bud was just as precise, but the big man had a power that practically heaved each victim from their feet as he cut into them.

“Are you okay?” Celaine shouted. Vamir had left his bow and quiver behind for her to use the extra arrows. Hump heard the twang of Celaine’s bow, picking off any of the undead that tried to get around to their flank. Conserving arrows.

“It’ll pass,” Hump said. Already the energies within him were evening out. “I just need a few moments to catch my breath.”

“Good,” she said, loosing an arrow that took down a kobold trying to push in from the side. “We still need some magic.”

“I know,” Hump said. He drew a deep breath then pulled himself back to his feet, nearly losing his balance in the process. Once he was upright, he focused on controlling his essence, on keeping the river calm. His spellbook shook on his belt, but he ignored it to focus on the fight ahead. It shook again. Not now, he thought at it.

He stared after Vamir and Bud as they tore through the undead horde, breaking open a gap in its formation. Hump saw Kassius through the mass of bodies, surrounded by undead. His armour was stained with blood, and his eyes were as savage and bloodthirsty as a warrior of death. He gripped his sword in one hand, wielding the long thin blade with a speed that could match Vamir.

On either side of him fought the other members of his party. The rogue wielded twin daggers, while the archer had forgone his bow and hacked away with a short sword. And still holding the bridge, the black paladin cleaved, a god of destruction. With each swing, it seemed the aura of shadow that surrounded him grew thicker.

“Kassius!” Bud shouted. “This way! This way!”

The prince saw them. It took a moment for the savageness in his eyes to disappear and for realisation to set in. He nodded once, shouting orders to his party and the villagers. His voice clear even over the snarls of the undead.

The group worked their way forward, the village folk using the long shafts of tools like spears to keep the kobolds at bay, while those carrying the wounded remained at the centre. Kassius’ stream of instructions never stopped. He kept the formation tight, predicting the waves of attacks as they came.

Hump felt like he was watching royalty. Not just a title, but a man that was noble to his soul. Kassius fought for his people like no lord Hump had ever seen. He was the first to defend each attack as they came, leading the villagers from the head with no regard for himself. Despite having no god to draw on, there was a feeling of power around him like the imperial aura of legends. The undead must have sensed it too because they swayed away from his presence, circling around him to get at the weaker flanks, fearing him just as they did Bud. But Kassius seemed to be everywhere.

In that moment, Hump made his decision to accept the prince’s invitation. Whatever Bud thought of Kassius, there was no denying the good he’d done today. He put his life on the line when he didn’t have to, all to get these people out. If that didn’t deserve Hump’s loyalty, he didn’t know what did. This was a man that stood up for the common man.

The ground quaked as the black paladin charged through the ranks like a raging bull, cleaving apart what remained of the undead lines and forcing a gap to open up.

“Go!” Kassius shouted. “Get to the tunnels!”

The villagers poured through the broken ranks, passing between Bud and Vamir, racing for the walkway. There were only six villagers left, and two were forced to carry a stretcher between them, an unconscious man lying on it. Kassius’ party remained, working with Bud and Vamir to keep the undead from pursuing. Hump held his staff at the ready, an Essence Blast ready on his lips for anything that got too close. Celaine was down to her last few arrows, shooting only when she had to, dealing with any undead that managed to slip around the sides and tried to target the villagers.

When the villagers reached the walkway, Vamir shouted, “We need to move!” Scales had spread along his neck and chin and covered his hands like before. A coating of armour that did nothing to slow his movements. If anything, he seemed faster and stronger than ever.

“Retreat on my count,” Kassius called. There was a tense few seconds of fighting, then a gap in the attacks came. “Now!”

They stepped back as one. A mishmash of swordsman and dagger users, Chosen and ordinary warriors. The kobolds could not find a way past. They reached the outskirts of the kobold village. Behind them, the villagers had their makeshift weapons ready.

“Again!” Kassius called.

Hump held his magic as he watched, waiting for a moment to use it. The heat of Wizardfire was building in him once more, but his river was calm. He had it under control. Still, the power wouldn’t last forever, and it was a long way back to the forward fortification. When it ran out…

Best not to think about it, Hump thought.

They were making progress. They were beyond the village outskirts now, and Hump joined them at the rear of their line. It was working. The undead might have numbers, but they lacked any sort of coordination. They’d need more than that to face off against Chosen and the rest of Kassius’ party.

Hump felt something was off. There was a pitter-patter around him. He searched for the source, and saw stones and arrows raining from above, blurs of shadow in the dim cavern. He stared up. Kobolds lined the bridges and walkways overhead, hundreds of them. The silhouettes of their small figures stark against the starry cavern roof.

And each and every one of them rained down arrows and stones.

“Archers above us!” Celaine shouted.

Hump threw up his Shield with a scream, spreading his left hand like a claw as if to catch the falling projectiles and raising his staff overhead. The air shimmered as a wall of power took form, bigger than any he had cast before. Large enough to shield them all from the barrage.

He grunted at the sudden impacts, almost buckling under the weight of the attack, and still he was too late.

Kassius’ archer collapsed to the ground, two arrows through his back and a stone crushing his head. There was no hope for him.

Bud cried out in pain.

“Bud!” Celaine yelled, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him back into the shelter of Hump’s shield.

An arrow had pierced the mail beneath the right shoulder in his chest. He staggered back, holding his sword in one hand as one of the undead swung at him with a clumsy swing. He bashed it aside, and Vamir stepped in to finish the job.

“Can you walk, Bud?” Vamir asked. Glancing at him for a precious second. Celaine rushed forward, catching Bud on her shoulder as he staggered.

“I’m fine,” Bud breathed. “I can still fight.”

“No you bloody well can’t,” Vamir snapped. “Retreat! Celaine, get him to the back!”

“We need to hurry!” Hump said, gasping. Every step felt like agony as hundreds of projectiles rained down upon them, crushing him down beneath their weight. “I can’t hold this.”

“How long?” Kassius asked.

“Seconds,” Hump ground out. Each strike sent a shockwave through his soul, causing ripples on his Shield like raindrops on a lake. With each impact, Hump thought his spell would break. Cold seeped into him as if Kelisia herself had come to pay him a visit. Speaking was beyond him. Even listening was too much. All he could do was take one step at a time until finally, he felt the steep slope of the ramp behind him. They rushed up into the shelter of the walkway, arrows striking the ground before their feet. Still, half the undead remained, chasing them upward through the hailstorm of arrows.

“Vamir! Get them out of here!” Kassius yelled. “We’ll hold them back.”

Vamir frowned, assessing the situation quickly before giving a nod. “Good luck.”

“And to you,” Kassius said, hacking another kobold.

“No!” Bud slurred, staggering toward them. “We leave no one behind!”

Celaine tried to drag him back, but he resisted her.

Vamir clapped a hand on Bud’s good shoulder as he passed. “We’re going, lad. Someone needs to get these villagers back to the fortification.”

“No!” Bud said.

“You’re not listening,” Vamir snapped. “We have to go. All of you are just in the way. Kassius’ odds will be better without needing to protect a wounded knight, arrowless archer, and a wizard with no essence left! Not to mention all the villagers. Now go! That’s an order.”

Still, the knight hesitated.

“Bud,” Hump said quietly. “If we stay, we’re going to die. All these people we’re supposed to help will die. We can’t stay. We have our own part to play.”

Bud held his eyes for a long moment, then nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”

“Come on,” Celaine growled. “Before you get us all killed.”

The villagers watched them in awe as they passed through their ranks. They reached out to touch them, thanking them. Thanking them so much that Hump felt awkward. He saw more than one make the mark of the Pantheon with their left hands, a sweeping half-circle from the heart to the forehead.

There was no hesitation when Vamir gave them the order to follow. Hump stole a glance to where Kassius still fought, his black paladin at his side and the rogue behind them. He knew neither he nor Kassius were Chosen, but he prayed some god was watching. That some god cared enough to help them make it out. And then Hump joined the column of villagers back up the tunnel. They followed the chalk markings he’d left behind, making a slow but steady pace. He could still hear battle behind him, but soon it faded, until it was nothing but a dull murmur on the tunnel wind.

But they were far from out the fire yet. They soon encountered resistance. The small clusters of kobolds they’d seen dead on the floor on their way down had risen again. The creatures wandered through the tunnels toward them, drawn to whatever magic had brought them back.

“How much range does a spell like this have?” Vamir asked. The undead kobolds were disoriented and useless; Vamir alone was enough to take care of them.

“I don’t know,” Hump said. “A large one, by the looks of it. The spell came from the shrine. This might be another of the dungeon core’s powers, in which case, the spell may have affected its entire body.”

“Mother’s mercy,” Vamir said.

“You’re saying all the dead kobolds could have risen?” Bud asked in a pained voice.

“All the ones with their heartstones still in them,” Hump said.

Their numbers were too many to travel fast, and with so many injured, the best they could manage was a brisk walk. Hump’s markings kept them on route, with Vamir leading the way, dealing with the small groups of undead kobolds. The relief was visceral when Hump saw his final chalk marking on the wall, all that remained was the long tunnel back up to the first prison chamber with the cages.

Suddenly, Celaine stopped. “What’s that?” she said, cocking her head to listen.

“What’s what?” Hump sighed.

“A tapping sound,” she said, confused. “It’s coming from behind us.”

Then Hump heard it too. The fast, slapping beat of wet drums echoing up the tunnel. Faster and faster, closer and closer.

“What the hell is that?” Hump asked.

Celaine glanced back and her eyes widened. “Salamanders! Everyone, run!”

“Wizard’s bloody Law,” Hump growled. “Things can never be easy. We’re taking a long day off after this. A long, long day!”

THIRTY

TUNNEL RATS

Hump’s heart thundered. Footsteps beat behind them, growing closer with every passing moment. Already, panic swelled within him. There was no way out. He, Bud, and Celaine brought up the rear of the column. Dozens of injured villagers stood between them and safety. They moved as quickly as they could, chased by the harrowing echoes of the force that pursued them and the sound of Vamir clearing the path of undead at the front.

Something snarled in Hump’s ear. He whirled around, staff raised overhead, and whispered the incantation for Wizard Light. It flared brighter than normal—Wizardfire not suited for such weak spells—the crystal focus shining white. He directed it at the darkness behind him.

Nothing.

He told himself it was just echoes, but his gut told him they were close, and that they were coming for them.

“How much farther is it?” Bud asked, using his good arm against the wall to help him walk. He was breathing heavily, his face pale enough to make Hump concerned. The knight had drunk his potion of Second Life to help stop the bleeding, but that wasn’t a long-term solution.

“We passed the last of my chalk markers back there,” Hump said. “It’s a straight path back to the first chamber with the cages. At least we won’t get lost.” Echoed snarls interrupted that moment of optimism and he glanced nervously over his shoulder. “It’s just a shame about the company.”

“Any idea of their numbers?” he asked Celaine.

She glanced over her shoulder again, searching the darkness. “Too many for us to fight.”

Hump stared ahead of him, and his stomach dropped. He could hardly see past the first handful of villagers that lined the tunnels. Burdened by the wounded, they were too slow. They’d passed several smaller side passages along the way. Gods knew how many more there were ahead of them. Each led downward, and each of them was another potential route for the kobolds to attack.

“It can’t be much farther,” Hump said softly, as much for himself as for the others. “Once we reach the first prison chamber, we can figure out a new plan with Vamir.” They would still have to make it through the boiling pools and tunnels before reaching the forward fortification.

“No,” Celaine whispered, quiet enough so the villagers couldn’t hear. She slowed her pace, falling behind and making Hump and Bud stop with her. “We need something now. Can you bring down the tunnel?”

“They’re that close?” Bud asked.

She nodded.

“Shit,” Hump said. He pressed a hand against the tunnel wall and felt the dungeon’s essence within it. Even if he had time, he wasn’t sure he could bring it down. The Wizardfire that still coursed through him filled him with strength, but the spells he’d cast in the kobold village used up much of its power. They were too deep, and the dungeon had built its walls thick. “I’d need runes and time to even stand a chance, and we’d be stranding Kassius down there with no way back up.”

“I don’t think he’s coming back,” Celaine hissed.

“I still can’t do it,” Hump said. “Not even if I had a fresh vial of Wizardfire.”

“Then there’s no choice,” Bud said. “You two go ahead. I’ll hold them off. I can at least buy you some time.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Celaine snapped.

“You can barely keep up with a bunch of wounded old ladies, let alone fight off a bloody horde,” Hump said, pushing him forward. “One of them’s got two broken legs, and she’s still faster than you.”

Bud groaned as he was forced to keep moving. “To be fair…” he panted. “She’s being carried on a stretcher.”

“You should have thought of that before you decided to be so inconveniently big,” Hump said. “Alas, this is the world we live in. Now get moving.” Hump searched the shadows behind them nervously. “You never know, they might not find us.”

Bud managed to laugh, then cringed from the pain of the movement. Yeah, that tonic wasn’t doing all that much about the pain. Hump had removed the arrow from his shoulder and wrapped it tightly, combined with Second Life, it was enough to keep him going. They’d been walking the tunnels for almost an hour now, the wound was taking its toll.

“Don’t go all giggly on us now,” Hump growled. “Wouldn’t that be an embarrassing way to get yourself killed?” He held his staff up and directed light behind them again, searching for anything that might be sneaking up on them. Still clear. Then an idea struck him. “Do either of you still have any Crystal Light left?”

“I’ve used mine,” Bud said.

“I’ve still got one,” Celaine said, pulling it out of her pocket and holding it out to him.

“Hold onto it,” Hump said. He took out the two he had in his potion pouch. “How’s your throw, Celaine?”

“Better than yours, I’m sure,” she said. “Why?”

Hump handed her the vials. “Crystal Light produces a bright flash when shattered. Shake them hard, then throw them at the kobolds. Make sure you’re not staring when they explode.”

“Will that even work against the undead?” Bud asked. “They didn’t seem concerned with the arrows through their eyes.”

The sounds were getting closer. Tapping footsteps, snarls and clicks and shrieks that made Hump’s heart thump. The undead kobolds didn’t make sounds like those.

“Those aren’t undead,” Hump said. “The only dead salamanders we’ve seen were the two we took out yesterday, and we removed their heartstones. They were probably trying to cut off our retreat when we were attacked. I don’t imagine they were too happy to find their village had been attacked while they were gone.”

“And you think a bright light will stop them?” Celaine asked.

“I think it will slow them down,” Hump said. “They live underground. Their eyes will be more sensitive than ours. And they’re scared of magic.” He glanced at the villagers ahead of them. There was one other option; they could force their way to the front. With so many bodies between them and the kobolds, they’d have all the time they needed. The part of himself that he hated told him to voice it. Now that he was afraid, the coward within him was louder than ever.

You have no place here, it told him. You’re a hedge wizard, a man of the coin. It’s not your job to sacrifice yourself for people, that’s what the Chosen are for. The gods didn’t choose you so that’s not your burden to carry. It’s hard enough just to take care of yourself, let alone other people.

He shoved those thoughts deep down inside of him. Whether he was Chosen or not, he had the power to help people here, and he had friends that were counting on him.

“This is the only idea I have,” Hump said softly. “If it doesn’t work… well, we’ll just have to figure out what to do next when the time comes.”

“It’s as good a plan as any I’ve got,” Celaine said. “And the best Bud could think of was to act as a human shield.”

Bud snorted. “I never claimed to be the brains of this operation.”

They continued up the tunnel. The beat of footsteps grew louder, and soon Hump heard the familiar clicking tongue of the kobolds.

“They’re coming,” Celaine said.

Hump glanced back over his shoulder. In the shadows, he caught the yellow glint of salamander eyes. It snarled and launched forward at a sprint. “Celaine!” Hump yelled in a panic.

He saw the vial flying in time to turn away and close his eyes. Even through his eyelid, the flash was as bright as if he were staring at the blazing sun. Behind him, shrieks and squeals erupted as the salamander reared back. Hump glanced back again to see the creature go back in a tangle of thrashing limbs. In the dying light of the potion, he caught sight of kobolds behind it, cramped together in the narrow space of the tunnel, filling it completely. Their red scales glinted in the light, too many for him to count at a glance. The panicked salamander blocked the kobold’s path, forcing them to retreat or be smashed beneath it. Alarmed shrieks and snarls filled the tunnel.

“Gods above,” Bud muttered.

“Don’t bother,” Hump said. “They’re never here when you bloody need them. Run!”

It didn’t take long for them to catch up to the villagers. Behind them, the salamander had regained its footing and stomped closer, egged on by the shouting kobolds at its rear. It made Hump’s heart thunder. He clenched his fist around his staff, trying to supress the tremble that threatened to overwhelm him as they drew closer.

“What are you waiting for?” Hump growled when he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“You gave me the vials,” Celaine said. “Now trust me.”

Hump clenched his jaw. A shiver ran down his spine as the lead salamander drew close once more. He held his staff tightly in his hand, ready to whirl on the creature if it got too close and blast it back or cast Shield to block its assault. Just as his nerves were reaching their limit, Celaine feigned a throw. The salamander squealed and startled back, stumbling, waiting for the next explosion. Clearly, the kobolds lacked patience as they poked and prodded the creature with their spears, driving it onward. It snapped at them, but when its protests were only met with angry clicks and spears, it staggered forward.

The moment it turned, Celaine tossed the next vial directly into its face. The tunnel exploded with light. The creature let loose a vicious snarl of pain, its heavy body bashing against the walls in its panic. Kobolds yelped and shrieked. When Hump next looked back, the creature was clawing at its eyes. Behind it, the kobolds closest to the creature had been knocked to the ground where they lay and groaned.

A second salamander scrambled over their bodies without a care. Watching the creature, Hump was once more reminded of an overexcited puppy. The big eyes, the excited snarl that revealed its teeth, the lapping tongue extended from its mouth. A kobold rode on its back, carrying a long spear in its hand like a lance. It roared a battle cry as it charged, shaking Hump to his very core.

He took aim with his staff, drawing at the nearby stones on the tunnel floor and gathering them into a cluster in the air. Bronze light trailed them, and where they grouped, it shone between the gaps like streaks of magma in rock. “Rockshot,” he shouted.

The stones burst out like shooting stars through the darkness. They tore into them. The salamander grunted and tilted its head down, trying to protect its eyes. The kobold wasn’t so lucky. Stones pelted it across its body, and it screamed. The blows threw it from its seat and sent it tumbling to the ground.

“Nice shot!” Bud said.

Hump gave him a faint smile. It was all he could muster. The cold seeped through him and pushed back the warmth of Wizardfire even further than before. He breathed deeply. It wasn’t much, but dungeon essence filled his lungs and made the cold bearable.

Ahead of them, one of the villagers shouted that they were through. Then he heard Vamir’s voice over the top of them. “Keep moving! All of you, through that tunnel and don’t stop. Go, go, go! Don’t stop!”

Almost there, Hump told himself. He glanced back and saw the now riderless salamander gaining on his heels. Hump yelped as it snapped at him, and he jolted forward, nearly tripping over the man in front of him.

It snapped again and he jumped, trying to dodge, but it caught his trouser leg. Hump felt a sudden pull, his stomach lurched as his legs were pulled out from underneath him. He hit the ground hard. The salamander shook him by the trouser leg before he’d even had the chance to process the pain. He screamed and kicked it in the snout, but it only shook harder, tearing off a strip of cloth. For just a moment it lost its hold on him

Hump scrambled back and the salamander surged. Frantically, he took aim with his staff. White essence shone in the heartstone focus as he gathered his will and yelled, “Shield!”

The air shimmered, the barrier spreading out before him. The salamander smashed straight on through, destroying the spell before it could even take form. Essence dissipated into the air like smoke, and the creature’s jaws widened. Hump screamed as it bore down on him.

Frostfire flared, filling the tunnel with flickering blue light and icy cold. The salamander’s eyes gleamed as Bud’s sword slashed across its face, cutting a gash through both eyes. It screamed and reared back, throwing itself against the walls and clawing at its face as ice crystalised across the wound. Hump felt a pressure on his shoulder. It pulled him, dragging him back out of reach. The next thing he knew Bud had grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back to his feet.

Hump stared back at the salamander in horror. He’d been so close to becoming lizard food. From how bad things looked, that was still a real possibility. Behind it, kobolds gathered at a safe distance and tried to figure out a way past.

“Go!” Bud roared, shoving Hump onward.

He ran. It wasn’t like he could do anything else. He was out of breath, bruised and battered, and approaching dangerous territories of essence overuse. Behind him, the salamander screamed. He turned back in time to see the kobolds stab it with their spears. They were merciless, even to one of their own. The creature’s agonised screams echoed through the tunnel. It was hard to imagine a worse fate. Blind, impaled by a dozen sharp points, with a body large enough that it didn’t allow for a quick death. When it finally went silent, Hump was trembling. He didn’t pity it, the creature would have killed him, but hearing its pained screams shook him.

The kobolds clambered over its body. One of the larger, yellow-scaled kobolds directing them forward, threatening any that hesitated with its own sword. Hump could only thank their lucky stars there were no scaledbrutes amongst them.

“Look away,” Celaine said, tossing the last of the vials at the group as they struggled over the dead body.

Hump did.

It exploded in another flash of blinding light. Pained screams erupted behind him, but the sound was overpowered by the battle cries of those unaffected by the vial. A salamander roared, taking the place of its fallen brethren and thundering through the tunnel.

“Come on!” Vamir shouted. Green light from the chamber beyond outlined his figure in the tunnel opening. His sword was ready in one hand, while he wielded his long dagger in the left.

The villagers fled past him.

A javelin struck the wall beside Hump and nearly caught his foot where it bounced off. He glanced over his shoulder to see the kobolds part to the side, hugging the walls as the first salamander charged up their centre.

Hump held his staff out, but he couldn’t stop a creature this large. Not with just seconds to spare.

The air whistled. Silver glinted in the air, and suddenly the salamander reared up and wailed. A dagger stuck out from the creature’s snout, piercing deep into the flesh, so that only the handle remained visible. Hump recognised the black leather handle. It was Vamir’s dagger. The creature threw itself against the wall and twisted, writhing in pain.

Behind it, the kobolds prodded it, driving it into a rage that forced it forward. It surged after them in a frenzy, so close, the ground trembled beneath its footsteps.

“Don’t stop you idiots!” Vamir shouted.

Hump turned to see Bud standing at his side, sword at the ready. Together they raced up the last stretch of the tunnel, darting past Vamir and into the chamber beyond. Around them, half a dozen villagers stood in a daze, examining the horror of the chamber. Some stared at the dead kobolds that had been pulverised by Hump’s Rockshot the day prior. Others saw the empty cages and the bloody butchers stand in the corner, with the pit that descended into darkness.

“Through the tunnel!” Hump yelled at them. “Move!” They stirred into motion, scrambling across the chamber full of kobold bodies. Hump didn’t want to think about what would have happened if they’d not been diligent in removing their heartstones.

Hump turned as Vamir steadied himself to meet the salamander. His legs spread, sword poised to stab, an arrogant smirk on his lips. In a flash of red, the salamander barrelled into the chamber and straight at Vamir.

Vamir’s sword came alight with silver sparks, so bright, they were blinding.

THIRTY-ONE

THE BUTCHER’S CORNER

Hump gathered his will and reached out for the stone shards scattered across the ground from where he’d blasted apart the wall the day before, preparing another Rockshot.

Vamir dodged the salamander’s charge with an easy motion, spinning out of the way and appearing at the creature’s side. He moved like a wraith, so smooth and quick it was as if he were gliding rather than walking. He swung his blade in a smooth arc, carving a silver line through the air as it sliced across the creature’s torso. The chamber hummed with the ring of steel, but the salamander didn’t falter. It charged past, its weight and speed making it impossible for it to stop in time. It only made it a few steps before its feet fell out beneath it and it tumbled to the ground, smashing through a line of cages and crashing into the back wall. The chamber shook. The creature struggled to its feet and let loose a panicked shriek, then frantically licked at its side.

Hump couldn’t see a wound at first, but as it writhed though, tiny droplets of blood trickled out from a line across the side of its torso, thin as a papercut. The blood forced the wound apart until it came out gushing, coating the salamander’s scales in red.

One of the villagers tried to slip past and get into the tunnel, but his movement drew the salamander’s attention. Its pupils dilated, and it sprung for him in a wild charge, barrelling through the cages that blocked its way. Its own blood and innards spilled across the ground in its wake, but the pain only seemed to have enraged it. The villagers backed away, two men stood at the front, wielding their tool handles like spears to try and keep it back. Behind them, a woman and another man clutched at two children, driven back into the bloody butcher’s corner.

They struck the creature on its side, and it screamed.

“Oi! Over here!” Hump shouted at the beast. Its head whirled on him, its one remaining good eye furious. He gritted his teeth against the tendrils of cold that quickly spread from his core and muttered the incantation for Wizard Light and directed the beam into the creature’s eyes.

It recoiled and Bud charged in from the side, his sword ablaze with Frostfire. He drove the blade into its chest, slipping in through the soft underside behind its foreleg. At the same time, Celaine’s boots crackled with green light and she flipped elegantly onto the salamander’s back, landing at the base of the neck and driving a dagger into the gap at the back of its skull.

The creature grunted, letting out a pained huff. It swayed from side to side as if it were drugged, then thudded to the ground, its legs splayed beneath it. Still it desperately fought to stand, kicking at the ground, snapping and snarling in all directions.

Hump rushed forward, jamming his staff into the wound to its side and channelling essence. “Blast!”

Energy erupted into the salamander’s exposed flesh. Its stomach ballooned, and blood gushed out even more profusely than before, spraying over Hump’s robes. And finally, the beast went still. Celaine slid from its back as Bud pulled his sword free. The stench of blood made Hump gag, but when he heard Vamir’s order he forced himself to focus.

“Get them out!” Vamir shouted. Kobolds spilled from the tunnel and encircled him, their small figures armed with clubs, spears, and rusty swords. When they came at Vamir, he lunged to meet them, a sweep of his sword forcing the kobolds back a step.

Vamir held the ground at the tunnel entrance alone. Silver light streamed from his blade like white-hot magnesium. His blade was too fast to follow, but Hump could see the trails it left behind, carving patterns in the air that reminded Hump of runes. He dodged and cut aside javelins, each movement flowing into the next, his blade finding flesh with ease as he danced between the kobold ranks. His speed was inhuman, yet it was still not enough to fend off so many.

The cowardice of the beasts was gone. Led by three of the yellow-finned commanders, they were organised and angry. They slipped past Vamir’s defence and into the chamber, attacking at his flanks and rear, each time it forced Vamir to retreat so as not to become fully ensnared. That left the kobolds room to come after the rest of them.

“Bud, help Vamir,” Celaine said. “We’ve got this. Keep them back as long as you can.”

Bud nodded, stepping up beside the ranger.

Celaine moved to stop kobolds approaching from the right side of the chamber, trying to cut off the villager’s route to the tunnel, while two more raced at Hump from the left.

They snarled, tongues flickering from their mouth like a snake’s, each carrying a wooden club. Hump retreated from them and toward the tunnel entrance, nearly tripping over a broken piece of one of the cages as he went. One of the kobolds ran at him, and Hump jabbed at it with his staff. There was no magic in the blow, but he struck it hard in the centre of its chest, making use of his superior reach.

The kobold stumbled back, reeling, while the second struck out with its club. Hump raised his staff in both hands to catch the blow. The two weapons cracked together. The impact reverberated along his staff and jarred his hands. The club slid down along the staff and caught Hump’s fingers. He yelped, releasing his grip with one hand and using the other to swing the crystal focus down like a mace.

The kobold scampered back out of range and snarled, its mouth twisting into a toothy grin. Hump glared at the sinister creature and gathered his will, trying to ignore the pain in his fingers. One of the many reasons wizards were best to avoid melee combat.

Behind it, the second was back on its feet and a third had joined their attack. They came at him, screeching with their weapons raised. Alone, the small creatures weren’t much of a threat, but Hump knew better than to try and fight three of them.

His essence reserves were already low, which meant he needed to save where he could, and reducing distance was one of the best ways to increase efficiency. He gathered essence and waited for them to step close. He tiptoed back half a step, putting on a worried face and clutching his staff with both hands defensively.

Come on, you lizard bastards, he thought, looking between them, waiting for his moment. Even when they had an advantage, the cowardly creatures feared a wizard. After a few seconds, the one to the left shouted something, stirring the kobold at the centre to charge.

Hump’s demeaner changed in an instant. He abandoned his defensive stance, levelling his staff at the creature from hip height and channelling essence into it. The heartstone focus shone. The spell took form in his mind.

“Blast,” he snarled, hurling essence at the charging creature, cramming the power into as narrow a space as he could. A cone of blue energy punched into the creature’s stomach, propelling it back and into the kobold directly behind it. They hit the ground together, the first rolling until it came to a stop, its entire torso caved in. Blood trickled from its mouth, but its body was still. The second kobold stumbled to its feet and raised a shaky weapon defensively. It chittered nervously with its remaining comrade, fear clear in both their eyes.

Hump gathered essence into his staff once more. With no time to prepare, and little Wizardfire still inside him, he didn’t have many more attacks like that left in him. Not if he wanted to avoid serious damage from essence overuse at least. Fortunately, the spell had startled the two remaining kobolds enough to make them hesitate. He used the moment to retreat to the tunnel entrance, where half a dozen villagers defended with their makeshift weapons, buying time for the villagers fleeing to where Gerard would be waiting for them.

Nearby, Bud held Vamir’s flank, keeping the kobolds off his back and doing what he could to prevent any from passing. The knight moved as if he weren’t injured at all. His blade roared with Frostfire, and an icy aura hung around him so thick it made the air shimmer. Every few seconds they retreated another step, slowly making their way to the tunnel. They were going to make it, but where did they go next? Even if they reached the tunnel, the kobolds were still on their tail, and there was no sign of reinforcements from Oswald. They’d need to run all the way back to the forward fortification before they’d have help, and with this many villagers, the kobolds would have more than enough time to pick them off.

A villager at Hump’s side fell to a kobold javelin through the chest. Another pulled him back to safety, while the others closed up the gap in the line.

Hump’s eyes found the two kobolds that had attacked him, their attention now set on different prey.

“Gods above,” Hump muttered.

Hidden in the shadows of the butcher’s corner, a little girl and her younger brother held each other. The woman that had been with them before lay dead, her blood disappearing into the red-stained ground.

Hump’s heart sank as the two kobolds closed in on them. The girl screamed, and Hump let out a reluctant sigh. He wasn’t made for this. Chosen were the heroes meant to sacrifice themselves for the children, not wizards. Damn every bloody god above.

He began the mutterings of a spell, drawing upon the shattered stone around him. Celaine beat him to it. A dagger flew through the air and embedded itself in the temple of the closest kobold. Before he’d even had a chance to gather essence, Celaine dashed past him, crossing the distance to the kobolds. She pulled her blade free of the dead kobold, slipped around a panicked thrust from the second, and buried her blade into its heartstone. She turned to glare at the others that came for them, face contorting into a snarl.

“Get out of here!” Celaine shouted.

Four more kobolds broke away from the main fight, charging at Celaine in a circular formation, their teeth bared in a retaliatory snarl. Again, the children screamed, backing deeper into the corner. Celaine mouthed what Hump took for a curse.

Hump turned his power on them with his staff, heaving essence and stone through the air. “Rockshot!” he barked, unleashing the hail of stones into the group. Two fell to the ground, dead immediately, while the others were just sent staggering. Hump strode closer, leaving the shelter of the tunnel. He didn’t have the essence left for another shot like that, not at that range.

“Blast!” he said, sending off another wave of essence as the two righted themselves. Cold surged from his core as warmth fled out through his arm and into the spell. He gasped, catching his balance on his staff. The essence staggered the kobolds back, and Celaine whirled in to finish the job. She lacked Vamir’s reach, but right there she seemed just as fast, piercing their heartstones in two swift blows.

“Come on,” Hump said, rushing over to the two children and lifting them to their feet. He ushered them forward, but they didn’t move on their own. Hump looked over at the men at the tunnel entrance. “Help us!”

They looked at each other hesitantly, then an old man ran out from behind them, his weapon clattering to the ground. Hump pushed the children toward him and turned to face the next threat. More kobolds were coming, closing the gap he and Celaine just made. Behind him, he heard the villagers scramble free.

Hump swung his staff at a kobold as it charged in to cut them off, but a second cracked him hard on the shoulder. He cried out in pain, falling to the bloody ground. Pain flared on the back of his head, clouding his mind. He wanted to gag just from the smell, but he forced himself to roll onto his back. He felt the blood sticking to his clothes.

Between the kobolds, he saw the children reach the tunnel, ushered in by the old man. That left just him and Celaine to escape. He struck out from the ground with his staff, taking out the legs of one of the kobolds as another came at him with a spear.

Instinct kicked in, fear and desperation fuelling what little fire was left in him. He raised his staff and whispered, “Shield.” A thin sheet of power expanded before him, blocking the spear, and catching the body of another kobold as it charged for him with a sword. The creature struck it hard and stumbled back, disoriented by the invisible wall. Others crowded around, slamming at it with their weapons and jarring Hump with the force of each impact. He screamed, icy cold flooding through his arms.

Celaine gripped him by his shoulders and dragged him back along the floor. The kobolds flung themselves after them, bashing against the Shield, screaming with predatory rage. From this angle, their small bodies looked ravenous, their eyes were hateful, and they were out for vengeance. Through the mass of bodies, he saw Bud and Vamir trying to fight their way through, but another salamander had entered the chamber, blocking the space between them.

“Celaine!” Vamir roared.

“We’re alive,” Celaine yelled back. “We’re going in the hole. Run!”

Hump couldn’t hear a response.

“What?” Hump asked, he glanced over his shoulder. He saw the butcher’s tool rack, and the black disposal pit in the corner. “Bad idea!”

“Only idea,” Celaine retorted.

Hump gritted his teeth then nodded. “Fine.” He released his Shield for just a moment, then channelled every bit of essence he had left into his staff. “Blast.”

The wave of force knocked the kobolds back out of reach. He felt Celaine’s grip on his shoulders and she dragged him. Hump rolled with her, diving straight into darkness.

His stomach lurched as he fell. Before he could even get a thought in, he hit the ground hard. Something cracked beneath him and he groaned. Everything hurt. The shadows swam around him. His head and right arm throbbed with sudden pain. He heard something land nearby, and forced himself to roll over, only to see Celaine’s green eyes staring down at him, swimming with green essence. The only source of light in the darkness. A vertical pupil ran through the middle of them.

Those were no human eyes.

THIRTY-TWO

QUESTIONS IN THE DARK

Celaine’s eyes vanished into the darkness and Hump’s heart raced as he stared at the spot she’d just been. It was hard to think. His ribs ached, there was a sharp pain in his arm, and his head pounded. He must have knocked it on the way down. He tried to get his bearings, but the only light came from the small hole they’d fled through. Through the narrow gap, he saw kobold faces poking over for a look. He breathed, panic rising in him. All he smelt was blood and rotten meat. He’d dropped his staff on his way down and now searched for it, but the ground around him was empty.

Celaine suddenly appeared before him again. She knelt, her vague shape barely visible in the shadow of whatever hell pit they had fallen into.

Hump opened his mouth. “What are you—”

“Shh,” Celaine hissed. She pressed a hand against his mouth hard enough to push his head into the ground. Hump’s eyes widened at the force of her grip, but he kept his mouth shut. Essence filled her snake eyes like stars. Her face was so close to his that he could feel her breath. “Be very, very quiet,” she whispered. “They need to think we’re dead. Understood?”

Hump nodded. He glanced back up at the hole above, trying to judge the distance in the dark. It was a long way up, they wouldn’t be climbing out, that was for sure. Even if the kobolds decided to leave them alone. He’d felt something crack when he’d fallen but didn’t feel any pain beyond a bit of bruising—either a very good sign or a terrible one. He curled his toes and rolled his shoulders, testing everything still worked. He breathed out a sigh of relief. It all hurt, but he was certain nothing was broken.

That relief left quickly. A kobold poked its head into the hole for a better look, trying to hold out one of their crystal torches. Behind it, the other kobolds spoke, seemingly deciding whether they should follow or not. When the creature pulled itself back up, Hump let out a relieved breath.

He took Celaine’s hand in his and tried to lift it off his mouth. It didn’t budge, so he made muffled noises at her until she noticed.

She whipped her hand away. “Sorry.”

Hump shook his head to say it was nothing. “They’re not following us down,” he whispered as quietly as he could. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“What do you mean?” She turned her stare on him, so intense it made Hump’s skin prickle. He realised they’d never been this close before.

“It’s a long fall, but if I survived it, a kobold could make that jump too. That means they’re either afraid of us or there’s some other reason they don’t want to come down here. Which do you think is more likely?”

She blinked, the darkness returning for a fraction of a second. “Whichever it is, we shouldn’t stick around to find out. We need to move before they change their minds.” She stood quietly, dragging Hump up by his arm a little too easily. He winced as his aching limbs protested.

“I dropped my staff somewhere,” Hump said. He squatted down, feeling the ground around his feet until he found something that felt right.

“That’s not your staff,” Celaine said quietly.

“It’s not? Then what is—” Suddenly, he remembered where he was standing. “It’s a bone isn’t it.”

“A femur from the looks of it.”

“Uck.” Hump scrunched his nose. He placed it back on the ground as quietly as he could. “That’s just brilliant.”

“Here,” she said, pressing what he hoped was a staff against him.

“If this is another bone, that’s a sick joke. For all intents and purposes, I’m a blind man right now.”

She breathed a soft laugh. “It’s not.”

He took it, feeling the familiar weight in his hands. “Thanks.” He looked around at the complete darkness that surrounded him. “So where do we go? As far as I can tell, that way is just as pitch black as that way.”

Celaine sighed. “You’re pointing at a wall.”

Hump frowned. “I can see this becoming a problem. I can’t cast Wizard Light. Not unless we want to risk bringing the kobolds down here.”

“Well, I can see just fine,” Celaine said. “Maybe that’s what’s keeping the kobolds out. They might not know how deep it is.”

“Maybe,” Hump said, though he doubted it.

“There’s only one path and it looks like it leads down,” she said. “Hopefully we can find another route out that isn’t stuffed full of kobolds. Here.” He felt Celaine’s hand take his and his heart sped enough for him to ignore the use of the ‘H’ word. It was a small hand, roughened by callouses. “You’re cold,” she said suddenly, concern in her voice. She pressed another hand over his, then touched his forehead. “Holy Mother, you’re icy.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“How are you even moving around?”

“This is what happens when a practitioner overuses magic. There’s still a little Wizardfire left in me, but once that wears off, I’m going to need some time to rest.”

“How bad will it be?” she asked.

“Don’t know,” Hump said. “Last time I was nearly dead before I reached that point. I was unconscious for the rest.”

“And you thought to only mention that now,” she hissed.

“I didn’t think we’d be stuck in a bloody hole when I took it!” Hump said defensively. “It’s not like there was much choice. Besides, it was years ago when I last used it, and my soul was far too immature at the time. It’s not supposed to kill you. I’ll be fine. Now lead the way.”

She gripped his hand and pulled, dragging him farther into darkness. “For someone at risk of freezing to death you’re grinning like an idiot.”

Hump felt blood rush to his cheeks. “Just happy—” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, deepening his voice. “Just happy to be alive.”

“Aww, did poor little Hump get nervous holding hands with a girl for the first time?”

“Oh, shut up,” Hump grumbled. “Before I forget. Wait a second.” He took his chalk from his pocket, and as he did, he felt his spellbook shake on his belt. He pressed it flat, ignoring it, and held out the chalk to Celaine. “Draw an arrow on the wall. If help comes, they’ll have a path to follow.”

“I doubt the kobolds will leave us alone down here for long,” Celaine said. “Probably best we don’t give them directions.”

“Good point. Leave a message instead.”

Celaine shuffled away, releasing Hump’s hand. On instinct, he reached to search for it. When he didn’t find it, he searched for a wall. For anything to steady himself. He found only emptiness.

It suddenly dawned on him where he was. Entombed in darkness, buried in shadow and stone far into the dungeon’s depths, cut off from safety by a horde of kobolds and undead. His stomach heaved as all sense of direction left him, and he could barely tell up from down. His legs trembled. He leant heavily against his staff. He wanted to call out to her but didn’t want to appear as afraid as he felt. Fortunately, Celaine spoke first.

“‘We’re alive and uninjured.’” Celaine read as she wrote, the sound of chalk scraping on stone accompanying her voice. “‘We’re going to follow the tunnel downward and search for another way up. Search for my next message.’ There, that should get the message across.”

“Uh-huh,” Hump said, barely able to keep the panic from his voice. He almost called upon his Wizard Light. Almost. Anything to make the darkness go away.

And then her hand found his, a touch of warmth in all this cold and shadow.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Hump said, voice shaky. “Just realised how screwed we are. How do you know which way to go?”

“There’s only one path,” she said, her voice calm. “We’ve got no choice but to follow it. Are you good to move?”

“Never better. Let’s go.”

It was an unpleasant feeling being led blind. Every step felt like he was going to trip. He hated having to rely on her like this, and even more than that, he hated being so useless. Logic triumphed over fear. There was little keeping him going but for the warmth of Wizardfire that still rose from his stomach. They couldn’t stop yet.

Again, his book shook at his hip, and Hump pressed his free hand against it to stop it moving.

Stop that! he thought at it, trying to hide it from Celaine.

Hump’s foot brushed something, and it rattled off to the side. He thought of the bone he’d picked up. The sensation of the crack beneath his body when he first fell. The smell. It wasn’t so bad now that they were walking, but the scent of old meat and blood clung to his nostrils. “How bad is it?”

“So far, it’s not much different from the tunnels above. A little wider.”

“Not that,” Hump said. He gulped. “How many bodies. How bad…?”

Celaine was quiet for a moment. “We left most of them in the chamber where we fell. I’ve seen a few more along the way. There… there’s not really any bodies. Just bones.”

Hump clenched his jaw. He felt a dark anger rise inside of him. He forced it back down. “At least that means we won’t need to worry about undead. Anything else?”

“It’s strange. It almost seems like the ground is absorbing them?”

Hump frowned. It dawned on him just what these tunnels were. “I think the dungeon may be eating them.”

“What? How can that be?”

“Dungeons are alive. Just like anything else, they need sustenance to survive and grow.”

“Mother, it could eat us too, could it?” Celaine asked.

Hump shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not unless we lie still for a few days at least.” He paused. “Do you think Bud and Vamir made it out?”

“Vamir wouldn’t die there,” Celaine said confidently. “He and Bud had reached the tunnel entrance when I jumped in after you. Some of the villagers were helping. They’d already taken down a salamander, so I think their chances are good.”

“What do you think of our chances?”

“Less good. Vamir saw me jump in after you. He’ll come looking for us.”

“We shouldn’t count on that,” Hump said. “It’s already dangerous. I’d rather we found our own way out rather than getting other people stuck down here with us. Do you think you could jump back up to the hole once the kobolds have cleared off?”

“It’s too high for me to jump, and the walls were too smooth for me to climb.”

He glanced over his shoulder, searching for that small circle of green light, but they had walked too far. All he saw was inky blackness. “Maybe we can find something to help us climb out then. Got any rope?”

“Do you not think I’d have mentioned it by now if I did?” she said impatiently.

“Just asking,” Hump said. “A log or something must have fallen down here somewhere.”

“I’ll let you know if I see one.”

“If worst comes to worst, I could magic up enough stone for us to climb out eventually. I’d need to rest first.”

“How long would it take?”

“The spell?” Hump shrugged. “Ten minutes. Maybe a bit longer as I’d need your help to draw the runes in the right place. I’d need a few hours of real rest first though.”

“If we’re going to sleep down here, I want to be as far away from the kobolds as we can get. They still might decide this place isn’t so dangerous after all.”

Hump frowned. “Then what? We just keep walking? It’s not much of a plan.”

“Better than getting chased by kobolds. Besides, the tunnel must lead somewhere,” Celaine said. “At least it’s a chance.”

There was a distant crash. Hump heard kobold shouts and murmurs echo through the tunnel, impossible to tell if they were from somewhere in the tunnel behind them or one of the connecting passageways.

“As far as I’m concerned, down here, you’re the boss,” Hump said quietly.

“Good,” she said. “Then we keep going.”

As they walked, the silence weighed on Hump almost as heavily as the darkness. He was completely blind, apart from the shimmer of light from Celaine’s eyes.

“So you have dark vision,” Hump said.

“Evidently.”

“All that time I held up a light for you…”

“Didn’t need it.”

“And you didn’t tell me, why?”

“Two reasons. One, it kept you busy for a bit so you’d stop all your blabbering.”

“Well that’s just lovely. And the second?”

“I thought it was funny.”

Hump laughed. “Is it a natural talent or part of your Chosen blessings? I’ve never seen eyes like yours before.”

“What?” she looked at him and blinked. Suddenly the light in them was gone, leaving only darkness once more.

“It’s a bit late to hide them now,” Hump said. “They’ve been the only thing I could see since we fell down here.” When she said nothing, Hump tried to reassure her. “Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m going to tell anyone. I already knew something was off about you two anyway.”

She was silent for a few seconds. “What makes you say that?”

Hump shrugged. “When we found those bonefiends and I used my Magic Eye, I noticed a veil over Vamir. You don’t need a veil to conceal being a Chosen. I assumed you were the same. So, what is it? Are you both fae or something?”

“Not fae,” Celaine said.

“Then what?” When she didn’t speak, Hump continued. “Don’t feel like you have to tell me. Your business is your business, I was just interested.”

“It’s fine.” She sighed. “At the age of eleven, all the children in my village receive their first injection of dragon’s blood. It’s a five-year process, my eyes are one of the results.”

“You’re kidding,” Hump said. “That’s… That’s insane. How do you even have enough dragon’s blood for that? It costs a fortune! And how do you survive the process? I’ve heard of people trying that before, and it’s always the same story. The human body isn’t meant to contain something as powerful as dragon’s blood.”

“Now those are questions I can’t answer,” Celaine said.

“Why not?” Hump asked.

The pause spoke volumes to her hesitation. “Okay, I could answer them. But if I did, I’d have to kill you.”

“Fair enough. Don’t tell me then. What caused your eyes to start glowing down here? Why didn’t it happen earlier?”

“They can come out on their own if I become distracted,” Celaine said. “I have an amulet that helps me keep the blood's power under control, but clearly it didn’t do its job.”

“I see.” He searched for the right words, then asked nervously, “Can you let them glow again? They were the only thing I could see.” Another moment of silence passed between them. “If you don’t want to, it’s fine. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“I don’t mind,” Celaine said quietly. Once more, light radiated from her eyes. “I can see better like this anyway.”

“Thanks,” Hump said. Even just that small piece of light was enough for him to feel a little better. It reminded him that he wasn’t alone. “Why do you hide it?”

“People kill for less than dragon’s blood,” Celaine said. “And my body is full of it.”

“It’ll be our secret then,” Hump said, smiling. “Shame though, this would have made for quite the story.”

Celaine snorted. “You really want to tell people how you got so scared of the dark a girl had to lead you around by the hand?”

“I’d spice it up, obviously,” Hump said. “I’d be the one leading, and you’d be the one terrified of the dark. And of course, you’d be ridiculously attracted to my manliness.”

“You are so full of shit,” Celaine said, but he could hear the smile on her lips.

“That’s not a denial. I’ll take that as a win.”

“Take it however you want,” she said smugly. “It’s your delusion. Now I’ve got a question for you.” She turned to look at him. “Why’s your book been shaking ever since we came down here?”

THIRTY-THREE

RIVER AND WAVES

Hump instinctively placed his free hand on his spellbook, as if somehow that would keep the bloody thing from shaking. As if it could sense his thoughts, it chose that moment to shake again. He sighed. “It shakes when it wants me to open it.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. “It’s sentient?”

“Somewhat,” Hump said. “It doesn’t talk to me, but it definitely has a sense of awareness. It was my master’s, and after he died, it bound to me. I didn’t even mean for it to happen.”

She blinked. “It’s soulbound?”

“Yeah.”

“Holy Mother. That’s… It must be worth a fortune.”

“Which is a big part of why I don’t go around blabbing about it either,” Hump said. Thinking about it, that was probably why his master had never let him see it.

“Does it do anything other than show you spells?” Celaine asked.

Hump sighed. “From what I’ve seen so far, it’s able to record patterns of essence within its pages and recreate them for me to study. It also seems to be able to measure my progress with spells. Apparently, it’s full of spells from my predecessors but so far it’s only shown me stuff I already knew.”

“Well open it then,” Celaine ushered him. “Let’s see what it has to say. Maybe it’s got something that will help us find a way out of here.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Hump said, removing the book from his belt.

“You need me to read it for you?” Celaine asked.

Hump scoffed and put on his most smug voice. “This is a soulbound spellbook, Celaine. Trivial things like a light source are unnecessary.” He opened it to the centre.

The pages faintly shimmered with essence, lighting up the letters to reveal Essence Blast. Hump frowned. Light shimmered across the page, glimmering in the lines of the letters and the spell formation, then all at once the lines began to rearrange themselves. Ink swirled, taking form before Hump’s eyes. When the ink settled, Hump read:

SPELLBOOK

Focused Blast (Essence Blast Variant)

Evocation | Battle Magic | Tier 2 | Range: Long

Description

Gather and condense arcane essence, focusing it into a beam that pierces through everything in its path.

Origin Spells

Essence Blast

Notes

y.532 – Ivish – My practice of Essence Blast led me to this. Always a nice surprise to figure out a new spell, even better when it’s battle magic. There’s a fine balance between power and control that works perfectly with this spell. Through proper shaping technique, it is possible to cast a Focused Blast with the force and precision to pierce through one side of a tree to the other.

Excitement flooded through him. At Tier 2, this was a spell that could rival Rockshot without the limitations of requiring ammunition. When he’d used Wizardfire to blow apart the undead in the kobold village, his level of control must have increased. That would explain the appearance of the spell. He read over the details in the book again, memorising the adjustments to the standard Essence Blast formation.

It was simple really. As with all things in magic, clear intent was key. He’d have to work on his shaping technique if he were to do the spell justice, but even if he could only focus his essence a little bit it might mean a drastic increase to Essence Blast’s power. It wasn’t exactly going to help them down here though. They needed a spell that would show them the right path back to the surface. Though even if one existed, Hump had never seen his master use any sort of tracking or pathfinding spell.

Suddenly, the pages shuffled once more. Pure white essence shone between the pages, giving the book a faint glow that lit up the space around Hump. When the pages finally settled, the light diminished, and he was left in the dark once more. Slowly, letters took form on the page in swirling lines of light.

SPELLBOOK

River and Waves

Enhancement | Internal Essence | Tier 3 | Range: Self

Description

A method of essence circulation within the body, that improves focus, essence control, and minimises the effects of essence overuse.

Notes

y.402 – Nithrand – For all of my magic, nothing was more important than a simple meditative technique. If one wishes to control the world, one must first master themselves.

Hump’s eyes widened as a spell formation manifested beneath the writing, lines of essence taking the shape of a human body. Channels flowed through the figure in the same way he envisioned the river through his own body, stemming from the core at the centre of the chest and ending at each of the extremities.

The same technique he had practiced all this time, yet this variant was Tier 3! He could hardly believe it. Years of practice, yet his master had never mentioned it was a spell. Let alone one so powerful. It had simply been a way to calm the mind and help him focus. The only other Tier 3 spell he had was Chicken Fix, and as useful as it could be, it was hardly versatile. This… this would help to solve his issues with essence overuse. He was beginning to suspect how the book worked. It was only because of River and Waves that he’d managed to control Wizardfire. Perhaps the very act of pushing the technique to its limits had achieved some sort of requirement.

It suddenly occurred to him that his master might have been preparing Hump for this for a long time. He’d learned the spells in the spellbook, practiced the same advice he’d read inside, partaken in shaping exercises and training. This could have been part of the old man’s plan all along.

“Why do you look like that?” Celaine asked. “Is it something good?”

“Yeah!” Hump laughed the word. “Really good.”

“Tell me it’s a spell that will lead us out of here,” Celaine said, exasperated.

“Erm, no. Not that good, sorry. It’s a new and improved, more precise version of my Essence Blast spell, as well as a technique to help me channel and replenish my essence.”

“How does it work?” Celaine said. “Is it like a blessing? Can you just use it?”

“No, the book doesn’t just grant it to me, but it shows me how to use my essence to properly recreate the spell.” He held up the book to her and pointed at the lines that coursed through the diagram. “You see this? It’s able to record the exact movement of essence through the channels.”

Her eyes narrowed and she stared at the page. “That’s all there is to magic?”

Hump snorted. “Try it. It’s not as easy as you think. Especially for magic that uses external essence like Rockshot.”

“Probably not the best place to try it out down here,” Celaine said. “Show me when we’re back on the surface.”

Hump looked at her shape curiously. “You’re interested in wizard techniques? Are you not concerned you might upset your god?”

“The rules aren’t always so strict outside of your Pantheon,” Celaine said. “Owalyn encourages the practice of other techniques and teaches us to find our own path. So yes, I’d definitely be interested.”

“Okay,” Hump paused. “Well, I’ll show you if we ever make it out of here.” He returned his book to his belt. “Is there anywhere nearby where we could safely rest?”

“I’m not sure anywhere is safe down here,” Celaine said. “But there was a small alcove a short way back. That’s about as good a place as I expect us to find down here. How long do you think you’ll need to get yourself back in shape?”

Hump leant tiredly against the wall. “A week, if I’m lucky.”

“You know what I mean.”

He shrugged. “A few hours and I should be able to at least pull my weight.”

“Good,” Celaine said. “That’ll give Vamir and Bud a chance to come looking for us too. We’re close enough that it wouldn’t take long to get back.”

“Or for the kobolds to find us if they come down,” Hump added.

“That too.” She took him by the hand again and dragged him back the way they came.

Hump snacked on jerky and hard biscuits as they walked, the fuel all adventurers knew well. He and the old man had gone days on the biscuits alone, forced to soak them in water just to make them edible after so many months in the saddle bags. It gave him the little bit of strength he needed to keep the aftereffects of Wizardfire back. The potion still kindled in his chest, an ebbing heat, slowly dwindling away to nothing, and taking with it all the warmth he had left.

Celaine helped him find a seat up against the wall and stared down at him. Her green eyes blinked in the darkness. “I’ll keep watch.”

“Thanks,” Hump said. He rested his staff across his lap and pulled his book off his belt. He pictured the River and Waves technique in his mind, then opened his book. The technique shimmered, faintly illuminating the space around him.

It was hard not to be excited, even in their current situation. He studied the movements of essence on the page for a few minutes, memorising the patterns from the core to the rest of his body. Nearby, Celaine scuffled about, her footfalls nearly silent even in the echoing tunnels. When he was ready, he closed his eyes and focused inward.

The first thing he noticed was that his river was more like a stream. An extremely dry and empty stream, flowing out from an equally dry and empty pool. Beneath it, where his stomach was, a small fire still kindled, sending out waves of heat that threatened to burn up what little essence remained. At least it gave him something to work with.

Hump reached for the flame, urging it to move with the slightest touch of his will. Too much, and he would end up burning his essence away, he had to incorporate it into the pool slowly, and disperse that energy around the rest of his body.

As the essence of Wizardfire flooded into him, Hump spread it out into his limbs and began to cycle it around his body. He gritted his teeth as he once more felt that icy chill in his soul, like a knife in his heart. It spread in tendrils of ice that threatened to freeze the essence channels he was trying to recover. He kept the essence moving, never allowing it to stop as he slowly added more and more to the mix, using it to distribute the cold to the rest of his body and keep it away from his core. For this to succeed he had to maintain a constant rotation. Without it, his essence would return to its natural disposition and gradually escape from his body.

As the cycles continued, he felt essence from the dungeon gather around him. It tingled pleasantly against his skin and Hump had the urge to draw it in. When he finally drew a deep breath, he willed all that power to come with it, drawing it into his lungs. A breath of concentrated power.

Warmth burst in his chest, leaking out through the rest of his body blissfully. It was nowhere near as powerful as that of Wizardfire, or even an Essence Elixir, but it filled him with energy that his body craved. In the past, much of that essence would have escaped. Humans were poor vessels when it came to containing essence outside of their core. One slip in control, and it would seep out from him like steam from a pot.

Instead, he let it trickle into his pool, and join the cycle around the rest of his body. With each cycle, the cold tendrils retreated. With each breath, he felt a little life return to him.

“Hump,” a distant voice called to him. He wondered at it idly, but it was too far away for him to care, and he was too tired. Then he felt his leg shoved. “Hump!” Celaine was shaking him with her foot. “Hump, are you there?”

“Yeah,” Hump said groggily. He blinked, trying to get a grasp of his surroundings, before remembering where they were. Pure white essence steamed from his skin in faint trails, only visible in the pitch black of the tunnel. Celaine stood before him. “What’s going on?”

“Kobolds are in the tunnel,” she said. “They’re coming for us. We need to move. How are you feeling?”

Hump took a deep breath, flexing his hands and fingers, and he let essence flow from his core. His throbbing bruises had dulled to an ache and a pleasant warmth radiated from them. “Better. Much better actually. Most of the cold is gone and I should be able to hold my own in a fight.”

“Good. You might need to.”

“How long was I out?” Hump asked.

“Hard to tell,” she said quickly, eyes vanishing. Her footsteps echoed to the right as she walked away from him, and he imagined her peeking around the corner nearby. “A bit over an hour. Maybe two.”

“And you’re sure it’s kobolds?” Hump asked. “Vamir could be back with reinfor—”

The familiar clicking tongue of kobolds echoed down the tunnel.

“Definitely kobolds,” Celaine said. “We had best be gone before they catch up. Can you run?”

“I can briskly walk. If I run, I’ll spend as much time on the floor as on my feet.”

“Just do your best. And stay quiet.”

Hump closed his book and grabbed his staff. Celaine didn’t wait for him to push himself to his feet, taking him by the wrist and dragging him up. He had time to attach his book to his belt once more, then she pulled him down the tunnel. They stopped for a moment, then she directed him left, tugging him deeper into the darkness.

THIRTY-FOUR

DUNGEON SPAWN

The tunnels grew warmer as they descended into the dungeon’s depths. Celaine’s idea of a brisk walk clearly didn’t match up with Hump’s, but each time he tripped, she caught him without complaint, dragging him ever onward.

Hump was feeling better after his time practicing River and Waves. He was no longer freezing, and the uncontrollable shivers had stopped, which was always a nice thing. More importantly, he had some essence. It wasn’t much, but down here it was the difference between being defenceless and able to fight. The technique might not offer him the immediate power an elixir could, however, it was natural power, like concentrated rest. His soul had relaxed, the essence that coursed through the rest of his body was absorbed, and he no longer felt like he’d been battered around for the last day.

They made fast progress, at least it felt fast. While he could hardly make out one shadow from the next, Celaine picked their path with ease. He felt himself pulled left and right down a twisting web of tunnels, egged on by the constant sound of their kobold pursuers.

“This isn’t working,” Celaine said finally, scratching a marking on the wall before scribbling it out frustratedly.

She’d been marking the path as they went, leaving descriptions of their direction. While she kept the markings apart so that the kobolds couldn’t simply track them, it clearly hadn’t been enough. At the same time, if they didn’t leave markings, it would be impossible for him and Celaine to find their way out afterward. Or if luck were with them, for Vamir and Bud to arrive with reinforcements.

“What do you suggest?” Hump asked. “I don’t like our chances in a fight. Not down here.”

“Agreed.” She paused, staring at Hump in a way that made him nervous. Though that might have just been because her eyes were all he could see.

“What?” he asked.

“You won’t like it.”

Hump sighed. “I’m not sure things can get much worse.”

“Good,” she said. “Then you stay here. I’ll backtrack a bit and leave a bunch of markings to lead the kobolds astray.”

“No,” Hump said. “Definitely not. We shouldn’t split up, that’s a terrible idea.”

“I don’t see much choice,” Celaine said. “If we keep going, they’re going to catch us.”

Hump rubbed his face and let out a breath. “If they caught you—”

“Trust me, they won’t catch me,” Celaine said. “I’ll be able to move quicker on my own. I’ll lead them up one of the side tunnels and then hide in another until they pass. You’re off the main path here. Stay here, stay silent, and nothing will find you.”

Hump frowned, forcing himself to figure out whether it was logic or fear dictating his decision. In the end, he decided she was right. The kobolds were gaining ground. Continuing as they were would be nothing more than a reckless act of desperation.

“Be careful,” he said.

“I will be.”

Then she was off. Two muffled footsteps followed by silence, leaving him alone in the dark.

Hump’s heart raced as he sat there in the dark. They were a long way underground now, yet it had only grown warmer and more humid. Time was hard to track, though Hump thought it must have been a good two or three hours since they’d first fallen into the tunnel.

It wasn’t like he was defenceless. If anything came his way, he’d have a spell waiting for them. That would buy him some time at least. After that he’d have to figure out what to do next. For now, he did the only thing he could. He used River and Waves to help replenish a little more essence.

It wasn’t long before he heard the kobolds once more, hissing orders at each other and running through the tunnel, their footsteps quiet echoes, almost like raindrops. Hump huddled against the wall and clutched his staff to him. His heart thundered as they drew closer, the echoes making it impossible to judge the exact distance. The footsteps paused, and voices chittered back and forth, before they continued onward. They never came his way. Soon the sounds grew distant. They were leaving, following the path Celaine had laid out for them.

Only once they were out of earshot did Hump slump to the floor and relax. He tilted his head back so that it pressed against the tunnel wall and tried not to think about the fact an entire crag was above his head right now. There was nothing for him to do in the darkness, so once more he turned his attention inward. Bit by bit, he felt himself recovering.

Footsteps sounded nearby and Hump shuffled to his feet, staff at the ready. He felt calm after his meditation, his emotions collected as a wizard’s should be. Now that he’d beaten back the worst of the effects of essence overuse, there was no excuse for letting his fear get to him. If they were to get out of this, he needed his mind to be focused.

He waited in the shadows as the footsteps drew closer.

“It’s me,” Celaine said, her voice barely a whisper.

Hump lowered his staff. “How did it go?”

“Good, I think. I left decoy markers all the way along the tunnel. It’ll be a while before they figure out we took a different path.”

“Then we better make use of the time we have,” Hump said. “I don’t want to go through that again. Here.” Hump extended his hand into the dark, wiggling his fingers at her and smiling smugly.

Celaine grabbed his hand and yanked him back on route. “You’re lucky I’m nice.”

They continued walking and it wasn’t long before a glimmer of warm light crept up from the ground ahead of them. The faintest red glow that seemed to emanate from the stone itself. “Am I going mad, or is the tunnel starting to glow?”

“You’re not going mad,” Celaine said. He could hear the disbelief in her voice. “Can you see now?”

“Just about.”

“Good. Then you can let go of my hand.”

“That’s alright,” Hump said casually. “I don’t mind.”

Celaine glanced over her shoulder and glowered at him. He could see the tight smile on her face.

“On second thought,” Hump said, letting go reluctantly. “Your hands are a bit clammy.” They weren’t. Her hands were as lovely as they come, and he found himself disappointed the moment her touch was gone. Pathetic, you just met her. Don’t go swooning.

“I’m starting to think we’ve made a wrong turn,” Hump said. “This is feeling more and more wrong the deeper we get.”

“They all lead down,” Celaine said, frustration clear in her voice. “I’ve been trying to stick to tunnels leading upward, but they all head down again eventually.”

“Like veins to a heart,” Hump said glumly.

“Mhm,” Celaine said. “I feel like we’re walking within the body of some giant beast.”

“If dungeon cores are sentient, then I suppose we are. They eat, they grow—it’s not unlike an animal.” Hump placed a hand on the tunnel wall. It was warm to the touch, and essence pulsed within, tingling against his skin like static.

They moved faster now that Hump could see, following the passage as it wound its way deeper. The grey stone changed gradually, becoming lighter. Thick red veins pulsed in the walls, and soon, they were walking through a tunnel of pale red and translucent stone. Thin veins of essence ran through the walls, connecting to larger, thicker veins that glowed with red light.

It led them to a small dome-shaped chamber. A place of nightmares.

Positioned around the chamber’s edge were large, translucent eggs. They protruded from the ground like giant swellings, bursting from the stone. Each was almost as tall as a person, with a crystal outer shell that contained essence water within, stained red by the dungeon’s essence. Suspended within were the still-developing bodies of kobolds. Thick veins bulged from the ground, feeding into each of them.

“This is amazing,” Hump said.

“You’re kidding,” Celaine retorted.

“You can’t tell me this isn’t fascinating,” Hump said as he walked up to one of the eggs, reaching out with his hand to touch it before stopping himself. He pulled back his hand. “Look at them! The dungeon is creating life right before our eyes. Sure, it’s man-eating monsters, but it’s still amazing.”

The amount of essence coming from the eggs wasn’t anything extreme, but it was constant. He’d heard many different versions of how dungeons created their monsters but never seen it for himself.

From Celaine’s face, she clearly didn’t think so. “No wonder they worship it like a god.”

“Yeah,” Hump said. “Amazing, but grim.”

She moved to search the room. “There’s nothing else here. Should we destroy them?”

“Not if we want to avoid getting eaten by kobolds,” Hump said. “These shells are made from some sort of crystal. There’s no way we could destroy it quietly.”

Distantly, Hump heard the kobolds let loose a chorus of excited clicks and chitters. It sounded too close for comfort. “Sounds like they figured out your decoy.”

Celaine frowned back at the way they came. “I’d hoped it would keep them longer than that.”

Then suddenly, the tunnel trembled. Thunder boomed, and Hump heard the distant sound of steel.

“What the hell was that?” Hump asked.

Celaine caught herself on the wall and stared down the passage. She didn’t answer.

“Celaine?” Hump asked. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said, obviously distracted. “That’s… Hump, you should stay here and keep out of this. I need to go.”

Hump stared at her, taken aback. He blinked. “Are you kidding me? Go where? There’s nowhere to go.”

“Trust me, you’re safer here,” she snapped. “I don’t have time to explain. Just stay!”

She bolted. Of course she bolted…

“Wait,” Hump called. He drew in a breath and gave chase. She was faster, but it wasn’t like he could lose her down here.

The red light continued to grow brighter in his haste. It pulsed in the walls like pumping blood, and through the stone, he saw dark shadows like veins.

When he caught up to Celaine, she was standing at the end of the tunnel, staring out into a domed chamber beyond it. Hump walked up to her side, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. He stared around the chamber in amazement. It was as tall as a cathedral, completely dark other than the dull red light that pulsed in the walls. Large boulders were scattered throughout, fallen from the jagged roof above. There was a hole in that roof, and beyond that, Hump recognised the green crystal glow. It was the hole in the kobold shrine.

Hump’s stomach sank.

A podium rose from the ground at the centre of the chamber, surrounded by jagged rocks as if it had torn its way out of the ground, coming to just above waist height. On it was a perfectly spherical crystal as large as Hump’s head, pulsing with the same red light as the rest of the chamber.

The dungeon core. They’d found the dungeon heart!

Which meant…

Celaine’s eyes were on something to the right. The ground tremored again, and once more the air boomed. It reverberated in Hump’s chest, and with it his heart beat like drums.

A dragon lumbered into view. It was bigger than a troll, bigger than two trolls. Larger than any monster he’d ever seen. It was covered in grey scales, so dark they were nearly black. Bat-like wings rose from its back, spanning the length of its body, red and veiny like the walls. Something held it to the ground, pressing it down. It strained against it like an angry cat, struggling to break free.

“Celaine,” Hump hissed. He took a perilous step forward, legs shaking. “We have to go.”

She didn’t answer.

“We can’t do anything against a bloody dragon!”

“A wolf dragon,” Celaine whispered. “At least, what’s left of her.”

“I don’t care what type of dragon it is,” Hump snapped. “They all look the same from inside their belly.”

“Hump, no,” she said quietly. “Look. It’s not right.”

“What do you mean?” Hump stared at it again. The beast was no dragon of legend. It was difficult to see it from this angle, with its tail end towards them, but as it writhed beneath whatever force held it, he saw the ribs protruding from its chest. From within its chest, its core shone with a sickly green, burning brightly even in its eyes. “It’s undead.”

The dragon strained, managing to push itself up from the ground and shuffle back toward the dungeon core. With it out the way, Hump saw Kassius and the black paladin. Both of them alive and well. Better than that, they seemed completely unharmed. Kassius strolled after the dragon with a calmness no man should have in the presence of a dragon. He carved markings into the ground, his sword tearing through the stone as easily as butter. The dragon roared again.

Hump was elated. He almost cried out before thinking better of it, not wanting to distract Kassius and get him killed.

Celaine on the other hand had a different idea…

“Stop!” she screamed, drawing the dagger from her belt and rushing into the chamber. “Get back, Kassius. Get away from her!”

“What are you doing?” Hump shouted. He dashed forward, grabbing Celaine and pulling her back. “We need to—”

The dragon whirled on them like a snake, suddenly free from whatever had held it. Its mouth opened. Green light bubbled at the back of its throat.

And then the world erupted in emerald flame.

THIRTY-FIVE

GUARDIAN OF THE DUNGEON

Hump found himself standing in front of Celaine before he’d spared a thought for what he was going to do next. Heat singed his face the instant the dragon’s breath exploded from its mouth. The air howled and a wave of searing hot wind surged forth.

Instinctively, he planted his staff into the ground and raised his left hand toward the jet of flame, fingers outstretched. He drew a deep, final breath, and focused inward on the river. The fear didn’t leave him, but he pushed every shred of it, along with the power in his body, through the runes of his staff. The wood smouldered and white essence poured out like clean smoke.

“Shield!” Hump shouted, voice lost in the wind. With his word, the air shimmered. A wall of essence took form before his outstretched hand, expanding from a point directly in front of him until it reached the size of a door. A single sheet of essence now the only thing that stood between them and the green fire of an undead dragon.

It wasn’t enough. He was certain of that even before he finished the spell, and that alone would mean its failure. Before anything, a wizard’s firm intent was the prerequisite to any spell. If even he did not believe in it, then how the hell was it going to stop anything? Gods, the heat alone was going to roast them alive even if his Shield could hold. His skin stung. His body screamed for him to dive aside. He’d never resisted this much power before, not even at full strength. How was he supposed to do so now?

You have to try. Think, Hump. Think! A wizard always has a way.

There was no room for doubt. He knew this wasn’t going to work, and that made it a certainty. A simple wall wouldn’t be enough to stop the fire, it would wash over and around it, consuming them. He had to do more. He had to be clever. And he had to believe.

Hump shaped his essence with an effort of will. He had no spell formation for this, only his mind and his intent. Essence bent to his command, curving the Shield around them until it formed an impenetrable sphere of pure essence.

It would hold.

He never stopped chanting that in his mind, the words giving life to the spell just as they gave him focus. His staff’s focus blazed with white light, and the wood grew hot to the touch, to the point Hump wasn’t sure if it was the dragon’s fire or essence. He didn’t care, all he thought of was spell.

Nothing would break through. Not a lick of flame would touch them. Not a spark.

The fire broke over the Shield in waves of blazing emerald, enveloping them in flame until it seemed as if the entire world had been consumed and they were all that remained. Hump gasped, his cloak flapped and danced around him as the air churned like a storm. Heat scorched his skin just as bitter cold lashed out in tendrils from the core of his soul, every bit of essence he had left going into the spell. The Shield shone brilliantly, lighting up with great swirling patterns of shifting blue and green as it responded to the fire’s touch.

Not a spark! Hump thought. Not a spark!

The spell held. Somehow, it resisted the scorching heat. He could do this. He could…

The fire wasn’t stopping. He shrank back from the heat, barely keeping his shaky left hand raised toward it. His shoulders slumped as his body tried to curl in on itself, chewed apart by the cold that expanded on his insides just as heat burned his skin. Only because of his staff did he remain on his feet, clutching to it like it was the mast of a raft caught in a hurricane. Every bit of essence he had left was consumed by the Shield, the sliver of Wizardfire still within him gone with it. His power was fading.

Not a spark.

It would hold. He would survive this, he would protect Celaine, and he’d escape this hell pit and enjoy the small bit of coin he’d worked so hard to earn. He held all that close to his heart as he fought. But the pain…

Gods it hurt.

Distantly, he heard himself screaming. It was a different part of him, the animal, the part where instinct came from. And it was irrelevant. The part of his mind that mattered was focused inward, envisioning the fading river within him. Into it, he threw that pain and fear, and he funnelled it into his Shield.

When the fire finally died, the world seemed to be a shade darker. Hump’s chant had turned to a croaky whisper, his throat raw. His legs gave out beneath him and he dropped to his knees, propped up by his staff, his fingers locked around the shaft and unable to let go. Someone’s voice called for him, but it was distorted and far away. He couldn’t make out the words. His head flopped forward.

He waited for the death blow to come. He’d given it his all—even surviving that one attack felt like a miracle—but he knew no gods were at work with him today. He was alone. Gods cared little for wizards, whether he was trying to do good or not. His life simply didn’t matter. He was expendable. Distantly, he felt his spellbook shake.

Seconds passed. Hump waited for the dragon’s sharp bite. He just hoped it would be quick. More seconds passed, he felt himself shaken and breathed a raspy breath. He blinked, light returning to the world. Celaine was at his side helping him stay upright. She said something but he couldn’t make it out, all he heard was howling wind. It didn’t matter, Hump’s eyes were on the dragon.

There was no next blow. Not because of any gods, but the reason was no less miraculous. Kassius lunged at the dragon, his liquid armour shimmering as he plunged his sword deep into the scales of its neck. The creature staggered back, roaring—clearly this undead felt pain.

As it reared back, the black paladin thundered in on its flank. He moved with a speed and grace no man in heavy plate armour should be capable of, feet striking the ground like hammers. He slashed through the dragon’s left foreleg, hamstringing the giant beast. Blood and green light poured from the wound, but the black paladin didn’t stop. He spun, whirling another slash of his giant sword into the next leg, bringing the creature to the ground. It wailed again, staggering to right itself and trying to retreat to its nest. Despite the devastating blows, it could still move. The wounds were healing quickly, and Hump could see why.

A chain of red light bound the dragon to the dungeon core like a hound chained to its master. Essence flooded the link, fuelling the dragon’s strength. The light that radiated from the wounds knitted flesh back together almost as quickly as the damage was dealt. For weaker warriors, it was an impossible foe. But for Kassius and the black paladin, they never gave it a chance to regain its footing. Each time it tried to stand, the black paladin was there, hacking at its legs and removing its mobility. Around him a dark smog rose from beneath his armour, clinging to him like a thick cloud. An aura of death, the power of Lord Rathlar himself.

Meanwhile, Kassius circled it. He didn’t attack the dragon, instead, his sword carved markings into the ground around it, trapping it within. He stood before the dragon with a face furrowed in concentration, then, as if by an invisible force, the dragon was squashed flat to the ground. It screeched and writhed but it couldn’t stand. Magic held it. Magic so powerful the dragon couldn’t even raise its head.

Gods above, Hump thought, eyes wide. Kassius had won. In that moment, he knew he was seeing a man deserving every bit of as much respect as any Chosen. This was a true prince. A man Hump could call his liege and know the old man would be proud. This was a way for him to do good and be more than just a hedge wizard chasing coin.

Hump smiled weakly. With the dragon subdued, there was nothing left to defend the dungeon core. They were going to leave this place as heroes, and he was going to make something of himself.

Pain suddenly flared in Hump’s cheek. He blinked, as a hand pulled his face back up and Celaine stared him dead in the eyes.

“Hump,” she growled. “Do you hear me?”

“You slapped me!” He tried to yell, but it came out as barely more than a croak.

“I’m getting you out of here.” He felt her hands under his arms, and she dragged him back into the tunnel they had come from, his heels scraping along the ground as she pulled. There, she rested him up against the tunnel wall. “Stay here.”

She stood, turning her back to him and staring into the cavern.

Hump frowned. “Wait,” he said panicked, his voice croaking. “Where are you going? Celaine, stop! You’ll get in the way.”

She looked back at him with those green eyes, more serious than he’d ever seen them. “That’s the plan. I have to stop this.”

“It’s already dead,” Hump said. He didn’t know what the dragon was to her, but for whatever reason it was important to her. “It’s too late for you to do anything. The dragon’s been torn to pieces! All that keeps it alive is the dungeon’s power.”

“No,” she growled, tears streaming down her face. She was in denial. Emotion was taking over, and Hump knew how dangerous that was. “A piece of it lives on.”

“You need to calm down,” Hump said softly. “You’re not thinking straight. Its soul is gone. Nothing could have survived being turned to undead.”

“Then why is she defending her egg?” she snapped. “Look at it, Hump. She won’t leave her nest. She won’t let anyone come near her egg. And in all this, she’s not come close to crushing her child. There must be something left in her, and I won’t allow Kassius to destroy it. I won’t let him have the piece of her that remains. I just won’t. Her egg will return to where it belongs.”

Hump narrowed his eyes. He was too tired to make sense of this, it was like trying to think through a cloud. “We should talk to Kassius. If we tell him—”

“Look at him, Hump!” she snapped. “Really look. Does that look like a hero to you?”

Hump forced his tired eyes to focus. He peered out from the tunnel and saw Kassius’ straight, thin blade of polished steel—except it wasn’t just that. Black veins bulged from the steel like streaks of poison, oozing with essence that was so dark Hump felt sick. The repulsion penetrated to his soul. He got the sudden sense that life emanated from that blade, and it wanted nothing more than to kill. The sword was laced with death magic.

The prince’s lips were moving. He was chanting something, though Hump had no idea what. All he saw was why. Around the dragon, the reason Kassius had gouged cuts into the ground became clear.

Thirteen runes surrounded the dragon—the number of the fallen god. The number of evil. They radiated a pale, terrible light. It was cold. Not physically, but the type that penetrated to his soul. Goosebumps rippled along his flesh as a chill shot through him. There was something very wrong about its light. So much raw power that even at a distance it awoke that part of Hump that wanted to desperately stay alive, screaming at him to run and hide.

He’d been so blinded by the prospects of wealth and fame, and the hero persona Kassius set out to exemplify, that he’d missed what was before his eyes.

Undead kobolds were gathered in the shadows of the room, armed with slings, bows and spears. Their bodies glimmered with the purple light of death magic. They peppered the dragon from afar, tearing holes into its wings; chipping and breaking away at its scales to reveal the fleshy insides within. Green light pulsed from deep within those wounds as the dungeon core fought to keep the dragon’s body intact.

Kassius and the black paladin hadn’t been fighting the dragon alone.

It was Kassius, Hump realised. All of this. He’d been the one to release the Raise Dead spell in the shrine. It was because of him the villagers had been killed, even as he pretended to save them. There had been no imperial aura repelling the undead attack, they had simply ebbed and flowed by his command.

“He’s the necromancer,” Hump said hopelessly. “How? He… He did everything right.”

“We were tricked,” Celaine said. “Now we need to deal with it.”

“But if it’s him, there’s nothing we can do,” Hump said, defeated. “That spell was far beyond anything of our level. He’s practically fighting the dungeon guardian alone.”

“If he had the strength to release spells like that, he wouldn’t need all of those kobolds to help him bring down a wolf dragon,” Celaine said. “He must have used an artifact.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No,” Celaine said. “But if I’m right, I might be able to disrupt the formation and ruin whatever it is he’s doing. There might be a chance.”

“It’s suicide.” He didn’t have the strength to argue, or the clarity of mind to come up with a more convincing argument. “We should go back and find Vamir. He’ll know what to do.”

“It will be too late. You saved my life, Hump. You’ve done enough. Stay here and out of the way. I won’t do anything stupid.”

“Every part of this is stupid.”

“I’m fast. I can make it.”

She snuck out of the tunnel, taking cover behind the closest boulder, her dagger in hand. Hump sighed. So much for not stupid.

Essence flowed in her movements as she slipped closer, streams of green smoke trailing her body. Completely different to the cold green light of the dragon. It was the green of sunlight through leaves and fresh grass. It focused on the souls of her feet, enhancing her mobility. She snuck farther, finding herself another boulder to perch behind. She took the dagger by the point of the blade and took aim. In one quick and perfect motion, she threw.

The blade spun handle over point, a silver streak in the air, and embedded itself through the centre of Kassius’ forehead.

Kassius’ eyes went wide. So did Hump’s. Celaine just killed a prince.

Nothing stupid, my arse! Hump thought.

Light shone from the wound, the same cold light that illuminated the runes around the dragon and the beast itself.

Kassius didn’t fall. Instead, he turned to face Celaine. There was no pain there, only fury.

“You dare!” he snarled, seething hatred burning in his voice. He reached for the handle of the dagger in his forehead, but before he could take it out the dragon’s tail whipped and slammed into his body. He flew back hard, striking the back of the dungeon wall with a crash. Dust and rock flew up around him.

The dragon lunged at the black paladin, breaking free of the runes that bound it and biting down on the warrior with its massive jaws, engulfing the top half of his body. It shook him hard then tossed him aside as if his armour weighed nothing. He crashed to the ground.

The undead wolf dragon, guardian of the dungeon, hunched over its fallen foes and roared.

The beast was free, and it was angry.

THIRTY-SIX

WOLF DRAGON RAMPAGE

The dragon propelled itself into the kobolds with a violent sweep of its wings, leaping through the air and crashing down amidst them. Now free, the dragon unleashed its fury. It snapped its jaws shut on the closest kobold and shook it like a dog before tossing the limp body aside. It sailed through the air, landing in a pile of broken bones that not even death magic could make up for.

Not an it, Hump thought. Her. Celaine had called the dragon a her.

Celaine took the dragon’s distraction as a chance to dash in closer. She moved between the cover of the boulders strewn about the chamber, making her way toward the nest where the egg and the dungeon core rested. This wasn’t good.

Hump glanced at the black paladin’s unmoving body, then at the shadows on the far side of the chamber where Kassius had fallen, and the dragon that still rampaged.

Any one of those dangers could kill them, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. Celaine had gone mad. Completely and utterly mad. The dragon didn’t simply move. Her wings beat like a hurricane, her footsteps made the ground quake. When she jumped, the entire dungeon shuddered. Dust and stone and bits of roof hailed from above, and the ground cracked beneath. For a moment, Hump feared the whole place might collapse. She was a force of nature. Too big to compare to anything else, more like half a house in size than a horse.

Hump hardly remembered to breathe. He’d seen a lot of monsters during his apprenticeship: trolls, stone golems, giant spiders, even a minotaur. None of them could compare.

The undead kobolds attacked relentlessly, unfazed by the mass of flesh and muscle that bounded through their ranks. Arrows, stones, and spears streaked through the air, tearing off scales, and piercing flesh. They stuck in her body, protruding from her like the spines of a porcupine. One kobold managed to get close enough to drive a spear deep into the muscle at the base of her tail. She screeched, lashing out and sending it flying. But there were more to fill the space of the fallen. Those without weapons clawed at her scales with bloody hands, tearing them loose and digging into the flesh beneath, pulling out handfuls of it.

Hump felt sick. They were like ants tearing apart a rat. From the screams, he knew some part of the dragon still felt pain. She tried to shake them off, lashing out with her limbs and mouth, bathing them in bursts of green fire. Injuries that would have incapacitated a living creature merely served to enrage her. The wounds healed in seconds, knitting themselves back together in twisting knots of green and red flesh, fuelled by the essence from the dungeon core.

A seemingly infinite amount of essence rose from the core. The crystal orb shone with a vibrant red, the depth of its essence beyond all but Kelisia’s power. He didn’t need his Magic Eye to know that; he could feel its power on his skin like static in the air before a lightning strike. Just the fact it had carved an entire crag into a dungeon proved its strength but seeing how much essence radiated from the dragon’s body put it in perspective. Every stream of green essence was wasted power. This was no spell or ritual to drive the healing. The dungeon core simply threw all the essence it had into the dragon’s body, and the sheer density of essence took care of the rest.

The dragon stormed through the cavern like a stampeding bull. She was unparalleled, nothing like the sluggish undead kobolds raised by Kassius’ death magic. This was no minor undead, but a fully-fledged monster, brought back by some greater power. Something stronger. Fuelled by the seemingly endless stream of essence the dungeon provided her. As much as it went against all that Hump knew of the undead, the dragon was clearly defending her egg. She never strayed more than a few steps from her nest, and nothing ever made it past her—no stone, no spear, and no kobolds. Nestled into the nest alongside the egg, the dungeon core was defended as if it were her own.

She was the perfect guardian.

Her body broke through the kobold ranks, the tremors of her movement alone enough to send the clumsy creatures staggering to the ground. She whirled, whipping her tail out and sending two kobolds flying. She tore into another, swiped and swatted others. Battered any that stepped close as if they were part of a fairground game. She reared as another spear pierced through her side, screeching and turning on her attackers. As if empowered by her rage, green fire erupted once more, bathing another handful of kobolds in her undead flame.

They didn’t scream as their bodies burned, their scales cracked, and their skin blackened. The charred smell of burnt meat stung at Hump’s nose. Yet still the creatures moved, driven like puppets by the death magic that controlled them until it was physically impossible for them to go further. Until their heartstones were destroyed and nothing remained but a pile of bones and ashes.

Hump once witnessed a chivacat released into a rat’s nest. He’d only been a boy—this was before the old man had taken him in—but the memory had stuck with him like all the other horrors of his childhood. The chivacat had torn through the rats with a merciless viciousness. Not for food, but for the slaughter. Kill after kill after kill, until its fur was drenched in their blood. Watching the dragon at work was just like that. She was destruction. A chivacat in a rat nest.

And Celaine was heading straight into the middle of it.

“Celaine!” Hump hissed as loudly as he dared. She glanced back at him. “Get back here.” He jerked his head to the side for added effect.

She shook her head. Hump saw fear in her eyes, but more than that he saw the determination of an idiot about to get themselves killed. He clenched his jaw as she turned her focus back to the path ahead. She managed to circle around the far edge of the fight, drawing closer and closer to the nest.

Hump clenched his fist around his staff and shuffled closer to the edge of the tunnel. He wiped the sweat from his brow, hardly able to watch. She was nearing the dungeon core. With every step of progress, she was one step closer to the dragon. Less than ten paces now—the creature’s body length might cover that alone, and she wanted to steal its damn egg. Hump’s heart was in his mouth.

He looked around for anything he could do. Anything that might buy her a chance. He thought of all the spells in his spellbook, and any potions that might help him, but he was out of options. All he could do was watch helplessly as Celaine crept closer until her foot touched down on the edge of the nest.

Deftly, she stepped into the stony nest. Nothing hid her from view, but at least for now the dragon had its back to her. Another step. She was almost there. The egg was at her feet, nestled into a bed of dirt and circled by protective stones. She bent down and reached for it.

The dragon whirled on her.

Its mouth dropped open and unleashed a hellish roar. The beast charged, bounding across the space between them in a second.

Emirai’s mercy, Hump thought. We need a bloody miracle.

Two strides was all it took.

Celaine turned like a startled deer, eyes wide, mouth open, face as pale as a ghost. Even at that distance, Hump saw the light in her eyes shift. They radiated magic that sent a chill down his spine as if he were prey staring at a predator.

The dragon stopped.

Celaine held out a shaky hand as whispered softly, “Shhh, you’re alright. I’m here to help.” She took a step closer to the egg, her movements slow and gentle, never breaking eye contact. “Let me take your egg somewhere safe. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She reached down slowly, maintaining eye contact.

It’s working. Hump couldn’t believe it. This went against everything he knew about necromancy and undead, but somehow the dragon understood. Somehow the dragon held back.

“Enough!” Kassius’ voice boomed. The sudden sound startled the dragon and it spun to face him. Its tail swooped out at Celaine with a lazy motion.

She jumped aside, barely avoiding the full brunt of the swing, but it still connected with her foot. Even a lazy motion from a dragon was enough to send her flying. She flipped through the air, bringing up her hands just in time to protect her face from smashing into the ground. She rolled over sluggishly and groaned, lying on her back and catching her breath.

Hump clenched his fist. The dragon wasn’t paying attention to her. Instead, she was entirely focused on Kassius. Her head swayed from side to side, teeth bared. A long sliver of drool ran out through the gaps between them as she snarled down at him and the gathering of kobolds. Watching for any to step too close. She shifted, positioning herself defensively over her nest and letting loose another roar. A warning that was clear as day: ‘Get away from my nest!’

Hump followed her gaze to the dungeon’s edge, where Kassius hid within the darkness. A chilling sensation crawled up Hump’s spine. Shadows at the base of the far wall came to life. That same pale, cold light that had illuminated the runes around the dragon now shone there. It illuminated Kassius’ face. A face as chilling as the very power he used. Light poured out from the dagger blade still embedded in his forehead, reflecting in the polished steel.

In response, the dungeon core flared with essence. The core shone brightly from its pedestal, lighting up the dungeon with a flash before sending a wave of power into the ground. The earth rumbled. The stones around the nest turned a warm and blood-red. Hump felt power gathering there and then the stone erupted from the ground. It flowed like molten stone, enveloping the nest and the dragon in a crystal shell, just like the unhatched kobolds they’d passed on their way down. The shell hardened, its red tint distorting the figure of the dragon within. To Hump, it appeared like some grotesque heart.

Hump’s mind was in shambles, but one thing was clear. If the dungeon core was seeking to hide, that meant Kassius was too strong for it to handle.

Which meant very bad news for Hump and Celaine.

“Get back, Celaine,” Hump shouted. “We need to leave!”

Kassius had survived a dagger through the skull and being flung across the room by the full force of the dragon’s tail. The best thing they could do was leave Kassius to his prize and get out alive.

Celaine seemed to have figured that much out too. She scrambled back on her hands, dragging her right foot as she moved. Her face twinged with pain, but she kicked and clawed at the dirt as she fought to reach cover. She nestled into the crevice of one of the larger boulders. Safe and out of sight, at least for now.

The blurred figure of the dragon moved within its shell. It made no effort to break through its cocoon, but it seemed to be pacing back and forth, still ready to fight.

The kobolds clustered together at the edge of the cavern, taking this opportunity to reform their ranks. Those with broken or torn limbs crawled and limped their way over until they found their designated spot. They held back lifelessly, bodies without thought or souls, waiting for their master to command them.

“Now isn’t that just fantastic,” Kassius said dryly, studying the crystalline structure. “We almost had her beat and you both had to come and ruin it.”

Kassius dusted himself off as easily as if he’d simply tripped and didn’t have a fatal wound. He reached up and casually took hold of the dagger’s handle, yanking it free in one easy motion. Letting out a satisfied breath, he held up the weapon to inspect. Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t find it. He tossed the blade aside as if it were trash. It clattered to the ground with a chime, echoing around the now silent chamber.

Kassius let that silence linger. The light blossomed from his forehead in beams of cold, pale essence, quickly narrowing as the opening in his head knitted itself shut in seconds. Once the wound was healed, he moved closer, his steps like a slow clap.

“Now then,” Kassius said, looking at Celaine with a thin smile. “I think I’m just about fed up with you, my dear. Lucas, take her.”

There was a sound like crumpling metal. Hump watched in horror as the black paladin rose to his feet in a heavy, lumbering motion, like a golem without joints. Pieces of metal snapped themselves into position. The black sigil of Rathlar on his chest plate was punctured by the dragon’s tooth. The rest of his armour was torn and broken, the black steel bent into jagged edges. Where the dragon had torn off his armour completely, all Hump saw was bloody flesh.

He shouldn’t have been able to move, yet the black paladin made it to his feet. His armour creaked as he took his first step toward Celaine.

THIRTY-SEVEN

FALSE GODS

Celaine scurried back as the paladin loomed closer, a demon of black steel.

“Leave her be, Kassius,” Hump shouted. “She’s done. She can’t fight anymore.” He forced himself to stand, practically pulling himself to his feet, using both his staff and the wall for balance. “Don’t do this,” he pleaded.

The black paladin’s armour rattled, his feet like thunder in the silence.

Kassius watched impassively. There was a darkness to his eyes that Hump hadn’t seen before. The façade of a noble prince was gone. Cold, hard eyes now reigned. This was not the man Hump thought him to be. This was a man that could kill in a heartbeat and not bat an eye. Celaine’s life was nothing to him.

Kassius strolled over, looking over the crystal barrier that now surrounded the dragon and the dungeon core with curiosity. He tapped it with his sword, chiming it like a bell. Within, the dragon stirred.

Hump gritted his teeth. The bastard didn’t care. Do something, he told himself. He drew a quick breath. You have to try.

He breathed in deeply, searching for some sliver of strength. If Kassius didn’t care, he’d make him. He gathered his will, calling upon the essence within him, searching for the river that ran throughout his body. All he found was icy cold.

The pain sent him to his knees.

He knelt there panting as he leant against his staff, barely able to raise his head. He gasped for breath, his will evaporating now that bone-chilling cold pervaded his body. The cold crept out from his core in slow, icy tendrils, sending uncontrollable shivers through his body. His teeth chattered. Everything hurt. He’d been betrayed by his own body. Betrayed by the man he was prepared to swear allegiance to.

The gods had a sick sense of humour. He gripped his staff with all his strength, frustration storming inside him. But no amount of anger could replace what wasn’t there. Even if he gave himself over to his essence entirely, there was no magic left. He couldn’t do a damned thing.

Celaine fumbled on the ground as the paladin rushed her. He grabbed at her arms, but Celaine was ready for him. She slammed a fist-sized stone into the damaged cheek of his helmet. The cavern rang with stone on steel, but the giant of a man didn’t slow. He grabbed for her again, catching her by the arms and hauling her to her feet.

She screamed, writhing to break free of his grip, kicking and clawing in her efforts. As the paladin tried to bring her arms up behind her back, she managed to twist her right arm out of his grip. With a savage cry, she smashed the stone hard into the side of the paladin’s head.

This time he staggered. His stiff body stumbled like a drunk man that lost his feet. Hump’s stomach dropped as the paladin caught himself on the boulder Celaine had been hiding behind before and lumbered back toward her. Everything about him seemed sluggish, almost without thought. Indifferent to what should have been a painful blow.

Celaine didn’t wait to give him a second chance to attack her. She screamed as she charged him, smashing a dent into the damaged side of his metal helmet. His head lopped to the side, and Celaine gave him no respite. She hammered down again, this time sending the helmet flying free. Then a final strike upon the black paladin’s bare skull.

He tumbled back, falling against the boulder, his head swaying from side to side. When he looked back at her, his face appeared hardly human.

Celaine stepped back, terror on her face. “What are you?”

The only answer she received was his one-eyed stare. In the scarred hole where the other should be was a black essence stone marked with a single rune that Hump didn’t recognise. Yet somehow, that seemed the least horrifying of his features. His face was lumpy and swollen with bruises, giving his skin a purplish tint. And the scars… gods mercy, Hump had never seen anything so terrible. Every patch of his skin had been carved with runes. The uneven scar tissue was a pale white that left no skin untouched, as if his entire face had been torn apart and stitched back together again.

The one eye that remained was as dead as those of the undead kobolds. No fear or pain, just emptiness. A small mercy, for there was no spark of death magic on him that Hump could sense. As far as his body was concerned, this man was alive.

“Well now you’ve done it,” Kassius scowled. “I leave the helmet on to do the rest of the world a favour. Go on Lucas, get on with it. Apprehend her, I don’t care if it hurts.”

The black paladin stepped forward, face void of emotion. Celaine struck him again, but it was different this time. He caught her arm with his, a vice grip around her wrist. She tried to pull back, eyes going wide as she realised that she couldn’t move him an inch. Then he slapped her. So fast and hard Hump would have missed it if he’d blinked.

He wished he had.

The sound was like an axe on wood. His steel gauntlet might as well have been a hammer. Celaine let out a winded gasp. The stone—her only weapon—clattered to the ground at her feet. Her body slumped. The paladin held her in place by the arm and pulled her to him. He gripped both arms tightly and yanked them behind her back, pinning them in place there.

“Let go of me.” She struggled weakly. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and pink already marked her cheek. Even now she was a warrior, more angry than afraid, snarling just as the dragon had. But like Hump, she’d reached the last of her strength. This fight was beyond them. They had lost before it even started.

“Celaine, I advise you to be still,” Kassius said. “The only reason your heart still beats is because I have not yet decided to end it.”

“You’re a bastard,” Celaine snarled.

Kassius sighed. “Last chance.”

She opened her mouth.

“Celaine, shut it,” Hump snapped. She glared at him but at least for now she did as she was told.

Hump forced himself to push aside his anger and to think. They couldn’t resist, yet Kassius hadn’t killed them. That meant there was still hope. “Will you let us go?” he asked Kassius.

Kassius looked at him with a slight smile. Amusement? No. He didn’t look happy. If anything, he seemed regretful.

This had never been part of his plan, Hump realised. The pieces fell into place. Kassius was here for the dragon, or the core, or whatever it was, but he had never intended to let the guise of hero prince slip. Hump and Celaine simply stumbled upon him at the wrong moment. But if he hadn’t intended to kill them before, there was a chance he’d let them live now.

Kassius sighed. “I can’t very well do that now, can I?”

“Sure you can,” Hump said quickly. “Nobody would believe us if we talked.” He licked his lips. This wasn’t the first time he’d talked himself out of a tight spot, though it was by far the tightest spot he’d been in. Hell, he’d take a knife at his throat over Kassius staring at him from across the room. “You’re a bloody prince, while I’m barely more than a peasant. Celaine’s a foreigner. If we go up to Overseer Oswald and accuse you of anything, we’ll be in the castle dungeon for treason before the month’s end. Nobody would believe us.”

Kassius seemed to consider it a moment, then turned to the crystal shell surrounding the dungeon core, tapping it with his sword. “Tell me, Hump, what do you make of this?”

Hump bit his cheek. “What does it matter?”

“Humour me.”

Hump glanced at the crystal. Essence filled it, that much was clear to him. Looking at it more closely, he realised it was thicker than the crystal he’d seen around the growing kobolds, and not as clear, but nothing else stood out to him. “The red glow is a result of the dungeon core empowering it with essence.”

Kassius glared at him impatiently. “Anyone could tell me that.” He gestured Hump forward with a wave of his sword, the black veins on the blade drawing his eye. “Come closer. Inspect it and tell me your thoughts.”

Hump cautiously stepped into the cavern and walked toward Kassius. He glanced at the undead kobolds nervously, huddled together against the wall, not registering his existence. Then back at Celaine. The black paladin had her in an unbreakable grip. They weren’t going to fight their way out of this.

Once he stood in front of the crystal sphere, he glanced at Kassius nearby. The man watched him with a curious glint, giving nothing away on his face. His stare alone was enough to put Hump on edge. Being this close to Kassius was a death sentence if he wished it to be. The man had fought a dragon and Hump was exhausted. All it would take was a single swing of that baleful sword.

So, he inspected the crystal sphere. He started tapping it with the butt of his staff as if his very touch might be enough to make it explode. The dragon growled inside. Hump stepped back, raising his staff on instinct as if to block a sudden attack. Its figure slivered to face him, the distorted image of its head staring through the crystal. Hump stared back at those cold green eyes, as much in fascination as fear.

Kassius laughed. “It’s not coming out. It’s at least mindful enough to know when it’s beat. Get on with it already.”

“Right…” Hump said nervously. He stepped forward again, placing a hand against it. Energy ran through him like a static charge. It tugged him, pulling at his hand, warm to the touch. Something pulsed within, thrumming like a giant’s heart. Essence flowed through the shell. He crouched, inspecting its connection to the ground and picking out thick veins of light just beneath the surface of the ground. Those must be how it connected to the rest of the dungeon. Usually, it was supplying its essence elsewhere, now though, the power was building.

“It’s gathering essence,” Hump said. Just from the sensation alone he knew the power of the barrier made his Shield spell look like paper in comparison. “I don’t know how you plan to break through something like this. An ordinary weapon wouldn’t scratch it.”

“Indeed,” Kassius said. “Fortunately, my weapon is far from ordinary.”

Hump glanced down at the runes on the ground, the ones Kassius had used to bind the dragon. Most he didn’t recognise, but there were a few that were familiar to him. Power. Assimilation. Conversion. He might not understand them all, but he knew enough to guess what Kassius was trying. Of all the times to shake, his spellbook chose that moment. Hump pressed his hand against it hard, willing it to stop.

A quick glance at Kassius’ face told him he didn’t notice, and he needed to keep it that way. There was only one thing for him to do. He needed to play along and do as the prince wanted. More than that, he had to impress him.

And then Kassius’ plan came to him. If he was truly here for the dungeon core, he would have killed the dragon and taken it. Instead, he’d kept it alive. There was only one reason Hump could think of to do that. “You’re planning to absorb the dragon’s heartstone.”

Kassius’ lips curled upward and that was all the answer Hump needed.

“You can’t,” Hump said. “It would change you. You’d be a warlock—hated and hunted by the Pantheon, feared by all that know you. You would lose what makes you human. There’s a reason we don’t absorb heartstones for power.”

“Oh please,” Kassius said. “I’m well aware of the risks. I’ve done this before.”

“Then why are you asking me this?” Hump asked, ignoring the fact Kassius had just admitted to being a warlock. “Why do you care what I think?”

“Because you and I are not so different,” Kassius said. “And you might still be useful to me.”

“We’re different,” Hump said under his breath. “You’re a murderer. I’m not.” He couldn’t help himself. The man was even more insane than he’d realised.

Kassius stared at him, all emotion drained from his face. A chill ran down Hump’s spine, as if the man were searching him for something deeper.

“Do you understand your predicament? You’re a breath away from death.”

Hump gulped. “I understand.”

“Then why try and provoke me?”

“Wizard’s honour?” Hump said, though the response sounded weak even to him. He was being an idiot, that was why.

Kassius shook his head. “I’m giving you a chance here, Hump. There’s no need for this… defiance. We don’t have to be enemies. In the eyes of the gods, I am just as unworthy of their blessing as you. You may be a wizard, but we are both practitioners. We are equally abandoned, equally irrelevant, and equally finite. It is in that way that we are the same. I may be a prince, but I am a prince of ants. Of mortals. I regret the lives I have taken, but they were the lives of small people living purposeless existences. Lives given meaning through death.”

“What meaning?” Hump asked.

Kassius tapped his index finger against the hilt of his sword. “Have you heard the false god theory?”

“I don’t think so.”

“It theorises that the gods are not true gods but are instead mortals that have found a path to a higher state of being. Meaning they were once just like the rest of us.”

“You believe that?” Hump asked.

“I do,” Kassius said. “We are both living proof that one doesn’t need a god to obtain power. That there are other paths outside of being Chosen. But they are paths hidden in secrets, kept out of reach by the so-called gods so that none can challenge their power.”

“Why would they do that?”

“What better way is there to maintain one’s power than to convince the world you are a god? They grant power to the Chosen few, a reward for their worship, and a way to keep everyone else in line. Imagine it, Hump. What if the gods are not our creators as they claim, but are instead our oppressors? Holding us back from our rightful place so they may rule over us for eternity.”

Hump frowned. “If you’re right, then who created the world? And why would they care to have mere mortals like us worshiping them?”

“I do not claim to have all the answers, I only claim that I seek them. But just because it raises new questions doesn’t make it any less true,” Kassius said. “There is power in faith, perhaps it is for that that they control us. Or perhaps it is merely arrogance.”

“That’s it then?” Hump asked. “You want to be worshiped. You want to be a god. You want immortality.”

“Not just for me.” Kassius smiled. “I simply want to help open the path. One that anyone can follow. Imagine it, life without end. An opportunity that all would have access to, whether man or woman, privileged or poor, Chosen or practitioner.”

It sounded like the wishful delusions of a man that didn’t know how lucky he was, but Hump wasn’t about to say that. “What does all this have to do with me?”

“You are not my enemy,” Kassius said. “We need young wizards like you. Ones with ambition and courage. People that took the power they deserved, not because of a god, but because of their own abilities. The offer I made you still stands. Join me, Hump, and realise your true potential.”

Hump stared at him, his mind swimming. This was too much to take in. Too ridiculous to even consider. “My life is on the line, you made that clear, but you can’t just expect me to believe this. Even if I agree, you’d know I was lying. And wouldn’t the gods simply kill you the moment they discovered your intentions, or send their Chosen to do it for them?”

“They are not omnipotent,” Kassius said. “My paladin is proof of that.”

“What do you mean?” Hump asked, his stomach sinking.

“It was a terrible thing, honestly,” Kassius said. “I’m not proud of it, but it was necessary. My father was the one that assigned him to me. The great Lucas Fellgreen, my Chosen guard, Paladin of Lady Light and honoured Chosen of the kingdom.”

Hump glanced at the black paladin, the runic scars across his skin, the gemstone in his eye. That couldn’t be possible. He was one of the King’s Chosen.

Kassius arched an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of them then?”

Hump nodded numbly. The weakest of their members were on par with a silver ranked adventurer. They were the elite. The strongest battalion Alveron had to offer, and the ones tasked with the defence of Elenvine. It made sense that a few would act as guards for the king’s relatives.

“Good. That saves time.” He pointed to the black paladin. “He is proof that even Chosen can be broken. Look at him, Hump. If the gods were invincible, do you think they would have allowed me to enthral one of their best? To break him and bind him and make him my own?”

“Perhaps they have a plan,” Hump said. He didn’t believe it—the gods weren’t watching—it was something he’d figured out a long time ago. They simply didn’t care.

Kassius barked a laugh. “Perhaps. But I am not alone on this path. I’m part of an order whose sole purpose is to uncover the secrets that have long been hidden from us. I’d like you to join us on that journey.”

Hump’s mouth dropped open, then closed again. He was speechless. His first instinct was to argue, to reject the offer outright. The man was a killer. A necromancer. A soon-to-be warlock. Hump licked his lips, heart racing. The horror Kassius was capable of was visible before his very eyes. He could be facing torture if he resisted, death if he was lucky, and in the worst case, he could end up like Lucas Fellgreen.

Was there a point? Why should he resist at all? Kassius was offering him his support. Wealth, power, immortality—it was all at his fingertips. A choice between death and all that seemed hardly a choice. He felt Celaine’s eyes watching him and turned to meet them. She looked tired, afraid, and he could see the anger burning within them. He held them for a moment, then turned away, unable to think clearly. He glanced back down the tunnel they had come from…

And there he saw Vamir. Hump blinked, thinking he was seeing things, but there was no question about it. He was nearly out of sight, barely visible in the dull red glow of the tunnel walls, but he was there. He gave Hump a wave and ducked back into cover.

Then Hump knew what he had to do.

The prince stepped toward him. He towered over Hump, glaring down at him. “It’s time for you to make a decision. I like you, Hump. I wouldn’t give you this opportunity if I didn’t. You have potential, but you are far from unique. I could find a hundred other wizards just like you that would balk at the opportunity I’m presenting, however your attitude has impressed me. Now I need to know you want it.”

“Right,” Hump said. “Well, I guess we best get on with it then. I’m in, on one condition. You have to spare Celaine. Release her now. Let her leave back down the tunnel we came from while I stay here with you. Do that, and I’ll be your man till you’re sick of me.”

Kassius sighed. “Commendable. Your bravery, even in the face of death, truly is admirable. But no, Hump. I never intended for Celaine to leave this chamber alive. She lives for another purpose. There can be no path back after this.” Hump flinched as Kassius pulled a dagger from his belt and held it out to Hump. “If you are to join me, you must kill her.”

THIRTY-EIGHT

BEYOND THE VEIL

“What?” Hump’s heart stopped. He glanced at Celaine, who stared at him with terrified eyes. “I… I can’t do that.”

“It’s a shame, I know,” Kassius said. “You’re clearly quite fond of her, but you must understand my predicament. Talk is one thing, but I need you to prove your commitment through action. Kill Celaine. Take the first step on the path to eternity.”

“This is pointless,” Hump growled. “If I betray Celaine, all it proves is that I can betray anyone. You included.”

Kassius smiled. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. Every man has his price. Every man has his breaking point. There can be no path back, Hump.”

Hump forced himself not to glance at the tunnel, to not do anything that might give Vamir away. He had to buy time.

“Why are you pondering?” Kassius chuckled. “This is hardly a decision. I am offering you a choice between immortality and death. Celaine’s life was forfeit the moment she entered this chamber. You must merely decide whether or not you die alongside her.” Kassius shook the handle of his knife, urging Hump to take it. The silver blade glinted with the faint red glow of the dungeon core’s barrier.

“Don’t be a fool,” Kassius hissed. “Take it. This is the first of the many steps you must take.”

Hump met Kassius’ eyes. The cold light within them had dulled to a faint shimmer, yet he still felt a chill.

Just buy time, Hump told himself. That’s all I’m doing. He reached out a trembling hand and took the knife. The hilt felt foreign in his hand. The leather was soft and smooth, the silver guard studded with red gems. Hump felt the power from within them. They were smaller than the kobold heartstones, but they were far more powerful. Warmth flooded in from his hand, helping to relieve the cold of essence overuse.

“Very good,” Kassius said. He placed a hand on Hump’s shoulder and turned him to face Celaine. “Now get on with it. I’ve a dragon to kill after all.”

Hump stared at the knife in his hand and took his first step. When he looked up, he saw Celaine glaring back at him defiantly. Did she really think he could kill her?

You could, a quiet voice whispered inside his head. The part of him that hungered for what he’d never had. Wealth, comfort, power. You could kill her and join him. You could be powerful.

“Well, go on!” Kassius said impatiently. “It’s time, Hump. Do it and be done with it, then we might all get out of this hell pit in time for a proper supper.”

Hump’s heart thundered as he stepped closer to Celaine. She struggled against the black paladin’s grasp with a sudden fury. He took another slow step toward her, his staff clacking against the stone ground. He willed her to understand with every fibre of his being.

Hurry up, Vamir, he thought.

He was standing in front of her before he knew it. She stopped struggling and stared at him, her eyes shining with warm green essence. The light that had given him hope when he was entombed by darkness. It was nothing like the cold death in Kassius’ eyes; hers were filled with life.

“You won’t,” she said quietly. “You’re a good person, Hump. You can’t kill me.”

Hump gulped. His mouth felt dry. He wanted to reassure her, but he couldn’t. He had an act to play, and Kassius had to believe it if they were both to survive. “You don’t know me. I’m not a Chosen for a reason, Celaine. It was fun while it lasted, but this fairy tale is over.”

She snorted. Even here with death only steps away, she managed to be obnoxious. “Sure. You’re an evil arsehole that just puts their life on the line to help people for the hell of it.”

Hump shrugged. “At the end of the day, I’ve got to look out for myself.”

Fire burned in her eyes. “Then do it. Get it over with. Better one of us live than both of us die. And I certainly don’t want to be the one stuck working with Prince Kassius.”

Hump held her stare, then glanced at the paladin. His scarred face was a stoic mask. Up close, his skin appeared like pale leather covered in bulging growths. It could happen to him just as easily. Mutilated beyond recognition, completely ensnared by Kassius’ power. Enthralled as nothing more than a puppet. If it could happen to one of the Lady Light’s Chosen, it could happen to anyone.

“Can you not even look at me,” Celaine growled. “Coward.”

“Sorry about this,” Hump said quietly. He raised his dagger and she flinched, squinting her eyes but never taking them from the blade.

Hump took a deep breath and tried to steady his shaking hand.

“Do it,” Kassius snapped. “There’s no use dragging this out.”

Celaine’s eyes met Hump’s once more, a flicker of doubt on her face. She flinched again as Hump plunged the dagger straight into the black paladin’s remaining eye.

As it turned out, the paladin did still feel pain after all, it simply had to be enough of it. Lucas stumbled back screaming, releasing Celaine from his grip. Celaine kicked hard at the side of his left knee, and Hump heard something crunch. The blow sent the paladin to the ground where he clutched at his eye with a hand.

Warm blood streamed down the knife, coating Hump’s hand and feeding the red heartstones on its hilt. The gemstones glimmered like tiny eyes amidst the blood. Hump felt their hunger as if it were his own. A sliver of essence trickled into his hand and up his arm. With it, a little warmth returned to him. He wanted more. He needed… Even as the paladin’s blood empowered the dagger, the man writhed on the ground nearby. Hump shivered. The hunger turned to nausea. Only the faintest trickle of essence, yet it had been enough for the dagger to influence his thoughts.

“I offered you everything,” Kassius snarled. The pressure of his will descended on Hump like a physical force, pressing him down. Hump staggered, staying on his feet only through the use of his staff. Kassius’ will might be strong, but it was nothing compared to Kelisia’s presence. He wouldn’t fall.

Hump whirled on him, stabbing the butt of his staff into the ground at his feet and gripping it tightly with both hands. Kassius’ face was twisted with rage. The world darkened in response. Shadow crept up around him just as Hump had seen it around the black paladin. The darkness enveloped Kassius as if his will had taken form and wrapped itself around him like a cloak.

“Like I could murder her in cold blood,” Hump growled.

“I’d hoped you would have the sense to overcome such weak resolve in view of grander things,” Kassius said coldly. “It would have been a mercy and now that chance is gone. Death by my blade is a slow affair, and I’ll ensure you both experience every second of it. The poison will weaken you at first. Then you will feel it burn as it seeps into your muscles. Your flesh will blacken and die as necrosis sets in. Not even a dragon can survive it.”

Hump’s eyes went to Kassius’ blade on instinct, drawn in by the power of the black veins along its steel. Dread filled him as that deadly power was directed his way. Bone-cold power that froze Hump’s body in fear. At his core, his soul shuddered, as if it were ready to leave his body and call it a day. The world felt even colder than before, and Hump took a step back.

“You were the one that killed the wolf dragon?” Hump asked, desperately searching for anything he could say to keep him talking.

He shrugged. “If it were that simple, we wouldn’t be in this mess. She escaped with a fatal wound, one she clearly succumbed to later. I suppose the credit goes to me, but it’s difficult to be proud when the execution was so poor.”

“You’ll pay for this,” Celaine said. “Even if you kill us, wolf dragons don’t forget. Her pack will hunt you till the edge of the world.”

“If only,” Kassius said. “Life would be far easier if I didn’t have to seek them out myself. They may only be lesser dragons but they’re a nuisance to hunt.”

“Bastard,” Celaine snarled. She tried to shove past Hump, but he blocked her path. She was limping from the damage of the dragon’s strike. “Let me past!”

“Stop, Celaine,” Hump said. “I’m serious this time. We do this together.”

Celaine was silent for one nerve-wracking second. “Okay,” she said, stepping up beside him. “I’ll follow your lead.”

Kassius snorted and stepped toward them. “I tire of this.”

His skin seemed to have sunken against the bones of his face, as pale light rippled beneath. An ethereal glow that revealed a piece of his true nature. He radiated an aura that made Hump want to sink to his knees and cower. Kassius’ soul was already tainted by death. The dragon’s heartstone would not be his first. Beyond his appearance, there was little human in him left. What remained was a monster.

Come on, Vamir! Hump thought. Come on!

“I hope you have a plan,” Celaine said quietly.

A plan? Hump would have laughed at the idea if not for the reaper of death strolling closer. He passed her Kassius’ dagger and readied his staff, as if it would somehow make a difference. He cycled the little essence the dagger had given him and gritted his teeth against the fresh wave of cold that flooded through his channels. Still, it was something.

“Do you really think you can fight me?” Kassius sneered.

“It’s not like you’re leaving us much choice,” Hump said.

“Oh, Hump,” Kassius sighed, taking another casual step. “There was a choice, you simply chose wrong. You’ll understand how true that is before the end.”

Once more Hump’s eyes flicked to the sword. There was no way he could defeat him. But he wasn’t fighting to win, he was fighting for seconds. With any luck, Vamir might just hurry up a bit.

As Kassius took his next step, Hump gathered his will and stabbed his staff toward the ground at his feet. He’d only recovered a little essence, so he’d have to make it count. “Transform Earth,” he said through gritted teeth, and that thin strand of warmth left him. Sharp, icy pain pierced through his chest.

A puff of bronze essence burst from his staff, bursting through the air like a faint mist. Kassius raised his sword to swipe it aside, but the essence fell short. It wasn’t Kassius he’d aimed at.

The essence dissipated into the stone at Kassius’ feet. The ground shimmered, then a small patch turned to sand. Guided by the last strand of Hump’s will, it sucked in Kassius’ foot, dragging it down past the ankle.

Kassius looked down at it curiously. “Was this meant to save—”

There was a blur of silver light so fast, Hump hardly had time to blink. When he opened his eyes, an arrow had buried itself into the side of Kassius’ chest, piercing his armour just beneath the armpit. Kassius snarled in pain and whirled to face the tunnel.

“Who dares?” he roared. Blood spluttered from his lips. It ran from the corners of his mouth in dark red streaks that trailed down his chin, stark against his pale skin.

The air before the tunnel shimmered faintly, like waves of heat across a cityscape. From the waves came slivers of golden essence, disappearing in a moment. Vamir faded into view. His armour was torn in places, his face splattered with dried blood, but even now he wore a smirk.

“Surprise,” he said dryly. “You may want to duck.”

Kassius frowned. “Duck?”

Hump frowned too. Duck?

Suddenly, Hump felt Celaine’s arms around his neck. She dragged him back and his legs fell out beneath him. They hit the ground together. Pain flared in Hump’s elbow and back where he took the brunt of the fall. He gasped; the impact knocking the breath from his lungs.

“You—” Kassius began.

Silver light exploded from the arrow in his chest. The chamber boomed. The sickly scent of blood filled the air as the blast flung Kassius to the ground.

Hump stared wide-eyed at his lifeless body. Blood spilled onto the stones, pooling around it. Where his foot had been caught in the sand, it had acted as an anchor, preventing the explosion from blasting him further.

“Move!” Celaine shouted.

His ears were ringing, but the urgency in her voice was enough to make him roll onto his front and get onto his hands and knees. She tugged at him, and together they crawled for the cover of one of the nearby boulders. They were still a long way from safety. Vamir stood alone at the tunnel entrance, a second arrow already notched.

Hump peeked out from their shelter as shadow gathered around Kassius’ fallen body. There was an evil to that darkness that made Hump shiver, just like the presence of death that surrounded the prince’s sword. This was no power he’d ever felt before. This was something new, something darker. Something only those that had truly given up their humanity could manifest. It made the aura of the black paladin seem like little more than smoke.

Vamir loosed an arrow, but the shadow whipped out and knocked it aside, sending it clattering to the ground. Then it lifted Kassius, his arms outstretched at either side so his body formed a cross, enshrouded in an armour of darkness. For a moment, he floated there, suspended by shadow.

The façade of a prince had fallen, the true monster now showed its face.

He was sickly pale, like all the blood and life had been drained from his body. The explosion had torn apart his ribs, leaving a hole in his chest. And there, Hump glimpsed something no human should possess. A heartstone embedded in the flesh of his heart, glowing with the same pale green as the rest of his essence. His ribs cracked and scrunched as they pulled themselves back together in seconds, the wound healed over before Hump could get a proper look.

Hump’s eyes widened as he recognised the technique. This was no simple spell, it was soul manifestation. The first true jump any Chosen or practitioner has to make if they were to continue their rise to power. Which meant Kassius was at least equivalent to a fourth circle Chosen.

His essence expanded around him, drawing in more power from the world. Gently, the shadow lowered him to the ground. Kassius took a deep breath, then stabbed a finger at Vamir. “Kill him,” he commanded.

The undead kobolds let loose a fevered scream and surged toward the tunnel at once.

Hump’s heart raced. He pushed himself up against the boulder, peering out from behind it to see Vamir unmoving.

“Have you seen enough?” Vamir called out.

“That was more than enough, Vamir,” a woman’s voice said.

And then Hump felt it. A gentle wind through the chamber, a whisper of some foreign essence that didn’t belong in the depths of a dungeon. He felt light, and warmth once more. The air shimmered again, and the realisation of what he was seeing struck him.

A veil. One that had been almost completely invisible. So perfect, Hump hadn’t sensed the faintest sliver of essence, yet it spread out across the entire space before the tunnel. The essence dissipated in waves of golden light, fading into the air as a dozen figures became clear within. Reinforcements had come.

THIRTY-NINE

THE CHOSEN

As the veil faded, the air shimmered with a golden aura, illuminating the old priestess of Lady Light. It was the same woman that had greeted them with her powers when they first escorted the villagers to the surface the day prior. She was positioned at the rear of the group, defended on all sides by the encampment’s strongest dungeoneers. Thirteen of them, Vamir included. The number of the fallen god showing itself once more. An omen for misfortune.

It was Joslin of the White Peaks that stood at the front of the wedge, her short sword drawn. She carried a large round shield made of steel in her left hand, covering her body almost entirely from foot to neck, as much a weapon as it was a defensive tool. A short distance behind her was Lantheer of the Silver Spears. His staff was of a rich, dark wood and smouldered at the top like the embers of a dying fire. He was robed in black leather, charred and burnt from years of fire magic.

Their guild members stood with them, though no party was complete. Each comprised of a mishmash of rival guilds that on a normal day could hardly stand the presence of one another but now came together in a time of need. Hump was surprised to see Sanya amongst them too, though now only Osaap of her northmen accompanied her.

And then there was Bud, his eyes brimming with Frostfire as he glared at Kassius with more hate than Hump thought his friend capable. Hump understood it. Not only was Kassius a practitioner of forbidden powers, he’d led everyone for fools right up until the moment of his betrayal.

Every one of the dungeoneers shared that rage. They wore the marks of the day’s battle. Dirt, sweat, and blood stained each of them. They couldn’t have been back on the surface for long before Meera’s message arrived. Clearly Oswald had spared no effort to ensure the prince’s safety. Hump wondered what the man would think when he learned of Kassius’ betrayal.

“The situation is clear,” the priestess continued. “Prince Kassius, by the authority granted unto me by the Twelve, you are ordered to surrender yourself for the use of forbidden magic. Lay down your arms and step away from the children. Release these beasts from your grasp and end this madness.”

“Who are you to demand anything of me?” Kassius scoffed.

“Priestess Alerai,” she said unfazed. “Fourth circle Chosen of Lady Light.”

Kassius laughed, long and mad. “A mere pawn, all of you! You hold no right over me, no power. I’m going to enjoy this. Kill them,” he growled. “Kill them all!”

The undead screamed as they charged.

Joslin led the dungeoneers to meet them, Bud and the other melee combatants following at her sides. Five versus fifty, yet there was no sign of fear as they formed a line in front of Vamir.

At the rear, the Priestess Alerai had her eyes closed, her lips moving. Golden light gathered around each of the dungeoneers, empowering them with a boon of Lady Light. Of all the gods, it was her power that was most imbued with holy properties. Even those amongst the group that lacked their own blessings would be devastating against the undead.

Just as the undead reached them, Joslin roared a battle cry, voice empowered by essence. The dungeon boomed. The famed Taunt of the Shieldbearers—Chosen blessed with a defence few things could match. It had been a long time since Hump had seen one in action.

It drew the kobolds toward her like sharks to blood. They poured in, pushing and shoving against each other, ruining the momentum of their own charge. As the first kobold reached her, she bashed aside a clumsy spear with her shield. Her sword carved a bright red line through the air, enhanced by a blessing. It cleaved the kobold in two with ease. She caught another spear on her shield, and a pulse of essence propelled her forward. The shield slammed into the kobold’s chest with a resounding clang, crushing it and sending the creature flying back.

Beside her, Bud cleaved off a kobold’s arm at the shoulder, the wound and half the creature’s chest freezing over from Frostfire. As the undead kobold went down, five more of the creatures took its place, their spears and claws finding Bud’s armour. Frantically, he swept out with his sword, keeping them at bay.

As the horde clumped up, Lantheer began to chant. Raging hot essence gathered at the end of his staff, setting the wood ablaze. This was a power Hump couldn’t hope to match with such speed. So much essence, he wondered how the sorcerer could even control it without a proper formation of runes. A moment later, a flurry of flaming arrows whizzed out of the flame at once, whistling through the air as they homed in on the kobolds, carving trails of hot embers through the dim chamber. They splashed over the kobold faces and chests, setting them alight. It was a small, precise spell, but one of great efficiency.

One of the arrows suddenly flew out of the crowd at foot level, weaving its way toward Kassius. His shadows moved to meet it, swallowing the flaming arrow whole. There was a blast of dull orange light within that shadow, and then nothing.

“No gods protect you here!” Kassius shouted over the battle. He levelled his sword toward them, and shadow gathered at its point. It swirled like a whirlpool of dark clouds, coalescing into a ball of power. Cold wind blasted away from it, sending dust and small stones flying in all directions. Wind howled through the cavern.

“Get behind me!” Joslin roared. Her shield pulsed with red light. Essence emerged from its edges, expanding around it and solidifying, tripling its reach.

The dungeoneers gathered in closer where they could, but the undead limited their mobility. On the far side, Vamir managed to break free and loose an arrow at Kassius. His aura of shadow flared up to meet it, casting it aside with a whip-like flick.

It was too late. The undead horde stepped back all at once, turning like a wave, charging at Vamir and blocking off his attack. Kassius spat a word in a tongue Hump didn’t recognise, but he could sense the evil of its power. The very sound penetrated him to his soul, filling him with a sense of wrongness.

The orb of shadow floated forward. Around it, a ring of dust and stone churned, caught up in currents of essence.

Joslin’s shield pulsed with red light, a towering barrier of power. Gold light fell upon her, coating her from head to toe—the old priestess empowering her with a blessing.

The shadow stopped before it struck her, hovering just above the ground. On the surface, Hump saw essence moving, almost like waves.

It exploded in a flash of shadow, growing until it encompassed a few feet in all directions. An all-consuming darkness. Where it met Joslin’s shield, it bulged over it as if trying to swallow it whole, but her power held.

Then the shadow dispersed all at once. A wave of black spikes and pressure in all directions. Stone shattered. Those caught at the edge of the blast were sent flying back from the violent energy. The blast of wind struck Hump a moment later, knocking him back behind the cover of his boulder.

For a moment, all Hump and Celaine could do was cower in their shelter, as stone and wind whipped past overhead. Once it settled, they peeked out. Four of the dungeoneers were on the ground screaming. Priestess Alerai’s Holy Light descended on them, but Hump didn’t see them standing anytime soon.

At the front, one of the spikes had torn a hole through the top of Joslin’s shield. Her armour was in tatters. A line of blood ran down her cheek from a gaping wound beside her eye, but around it, her skin glittered with the same gold light. Holy Armour, a blessing of Lady Light that bestowed a target with enhanced durability and resistance to dark magics.

She had held, and because of her, most of the force was still intact.

A newfound fear filled each of their faces. Hump was as shocked as everyone else—he’d seen Kassius fight a dragon, but no he’d not displayed such sheer force.

Only a few of the undead had been caught in the blast, and others quickly swarmed to take their place. They charged the broken formation. Mouths opened as they screeched with ravenous fury.

Joslin stamped her foot, planting herself into the ground and summoning up a red aura around her. The Blood Rage of the god of war, Byzantius. At her side, Bud was the first to his feet. The frenzied undead broke against her like a flood—at least for now, she still held.

One of the fallen men screamed. Pure, ear-piercing horror as a kobold slipped in on the far-left side of the formation and dragged him out by the legs. He was buried beneath the mass, torn to shreds before Hump’s eyes.

A pulse of essence drew his attention. Behind Joslin, Lantheer released a great ball of fire overhead, lighting up the cavern like the sun itself. It floated above the undead horde, a chaotic mass of essence.

Kassius barked a word and his shadow moved to meet it. It swept forward like a dark cloud, spreading like smoke through the kobold ranks. Lantheer’s sun exploded and rained down bolts of fire into the crowd, but the shadow caught many before they could reach the kobolds below. Then the overcast of shadow folded in on itself and slumped to the ground. It puffed as it hit the ground, then swept toward where the dungeoneers held.

Priestess Alerai met the power with a circle of Holy Light. Some sort of shield that blocked out whatever power Kassius unleashed. Whatever it was, the kobolds seemed to be attacking with even more strength than before.

Kassius laughed. His shadow veil had formed a hoodlike shape over his head, leaving only his face visible, his skin now without colour and as pale as ash. The corners of his mouth were so far up his cheeks that Hump could see his back teeth.

There wasn’t going to be an end to his power. He was going to win.

“We need to do something,” Hump whispered. “I just don’t know what.”

“Have you forgotten?” Celaine said. “I’ve got his dagger.” She held the silver blade up, and Hump looked at it, at the ruby-red crystals in its hilt. He remembered the power he’d felt from it.

Hump frowned. “If you could land a hit, maybe we can do some damage. How you plan to do that is another question.”

“Do you know how his shadow works?” she asked. “Maybe I can get past it.”

“Not a clue. It’s some form of soul manifestation, but I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Then I need to get in close,” she said. “It’s resisted everything else. If I’m fast enough, I might reach him.”

Hump gawked at her. “And if you’re not, he’ll kill you.”

“I’ve got dragon blood in me,” she said. “I’m not that easy to kill. Just get his attention and I’ll do the rest.”

“Are you confident?”

“No, but I don’t see much choice. Stealth is one of my strengths, and my first blessing helps me identify points of weakness.”

Hump sighed but gave a nod. “I’ll get his attention. What are you going to do?”

“The only thing I can think of. Are you ready?”

Hump’s eyes widened. “I don’t even know what—”

Celaine bent her knees, green light gathering around her feet. A moment later, she launched off using Spring Step, rising into the air high overhead.

Panicked and with no time to think, Hump jumped out of cover. “Kassius!” he shouted. “You’re dumber than a trollspawn and a damn sight uglier too!”

The prince turned on him, his brow furrowed. For a moment his twisted smile slipped. He turned up as Celaine’s shadow fell upon him. His shadows moved, but she was faster.

She landed deftly, one foot on each of his shoulders. Shadow crept over her feet and up her legs, but the dagger was already on its way.

She screamed as she plunged it into his eye. Kassius screamed too, his shadow lashing out at Celaine frantically. She pulled the dagger free, green light gathering around her feet as she prepared to launch herself back.

But his shadow caught her. It wrapped around her legs, holding her in place. She swung her arms around, floundering for balance. Once steady, she called upon her essence once more and pushed off of Kassius’ shoulders. Tendrils of shadow trailed her, breaking as she propelled herself through the air, but they sent her tumbling. She landed hard, crumbling to the ground at the base of the boulder.

Kassius screamed again, pressing a hand to his eye. When he pulled it away, his hand was covered in black blood. It oozed from the wound, even as pale green light filled it and began to heal. The blood ran down his face like thick tears.

Hump rushed forward and grabbed Celaine by the arms, dragging her back to her feet. She leant on him heavily, the limp in her leg even worse than before. As Hump surveyed the battle, he saw the plan worked. Across the battlefield his black fog had faded. There was just one problem.

Kassius glared at them with his single eye. Breathing deeply, he raised his chin and the shadow expanded around him. It cloaked him, swallowing him whole, until only the pale green light of his eyes shone through. One eye still whole, the other a sliver of light.

In all the chaos, those eyes settled on Hump. Death filled them. Inescapable, certain death.

Kassius’ shadow churned around him like a cloud of ink, propelling him forward. He was a wraith, a reaper of death, a man intent on challenging the gods. There was no chance for Hump to run, and he didn’t have a hope in hell of defending against him without his magic.

Hump reached deep. He drew up his will, channelling pure desperation. Cold cut through him like a blade expanding from his centre. Kassius swung down with a savage sweep of his blade.

“None of that,” Kassius snarled, letting loose a wave of essence that shattered the sliver of power Hump managed to summon, dispersing it before his spell could take form.

Hump screamed against the pressure of Kassius’ essence; a great, nauseating weight from which he couldn’t escape. He gasped, struggling to breathe. Celaine let go of him and dropped to the floor, but Hump didn’t have the mind to worry about anyone but himself. His muscles ached all over, his head pounded behind his eyes, everything felt weakened as if he hadn’t slept or eaten for days. He sank to his knees and drew in a raspy breath, waiting for the final blow to come. The slow and torturous death Kassius had promised him.

Green eyes stared down at him. The shadow parted for just a moment to reveal a sick grin on his face. His right eye socket was bloodied all around it, and nothing but green light was visible within.

Looks like I’ll be joining you soon, Master, Hump thought.

Hump heard a shout nearby. Boots thudded across the ground. A cold wind reached him, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a man in rusty chainmail charging out from the undead ranks, his sword ablaze with blue fire. Kassius glanced at Bud with so much arrogance he didn’t even bother to dodge. Shadow moved to intercept the blow. But it failed. Bud’s Frostfire burnt apart the shadow, carving a path through the darkness like it was nothing but air. By the time Kassius realised and began to move, it was too late. The tip of Bud’s sword cut across his stomach, leaving a trail of ice in its place.

Kassius jumped back, hissing out a breath.

“Robert,” Kassius sneered. The veil of shadow raised him into the air until he was a head taller than Bud. “I’ll have your head for this. A gift I’ll be sure to return to your father. Your whole house will be condemned for treason on my word.”

“You’re wrong, Kassius,” Bud said, raising his sword. “Kelisia guides my path. The gods are here. Their Chosen are here.” The Frostfire along his sword flared up into a pillar of fire. “Evil shall be purged.”

FORTY

BATTLE FOR BLEDSBURY DUNGEON

Hump helped Celaine to her feet and together they retreated until they were firmly behind Bud. He stood with his back to them, facing Kassius head-on, his sword at the ready. Hump glanced at the black paladin, who dragged himself along the ground, seemingly without direction. Across the chamber, the tide seemed to have turned in the fight against the undead. Their numbers were dwindling, but it would still take time for the dungeoneers to break through. Time Hump didn’t think they had.

“Hump, Celaine, stay back,” Bud said. “I need space.”

Kassius’ shadows reformed around him, until all but his face was shrouded. “You speak as if you can defeat me.”

Bud lashed out with his sword in response. A quick jab to the throat that might have caught even an experienced swordsman off guard, yet Kassius swayed out of range with ease. Frostfire parted shadow like smoke, the trailing embers tearing streaks like starlight through his dark veil. In that light, the youth and life of his skin was all but gone now, as the full force of his death magic came to bear. He was pale as a ghoul, his skin suctioned to the bones of his face. Despite his wounded eye, he seemed unperturbed by the injury.

“Come now, Robert,” Kassius sneered. “That’s no way to treat your prince.”

“I always suspected something was wrong with you,” Bud said. “But never this. Never did I think you would have fallen so far. The gods will judge you, Kassius.”

“They already have. I am unworthy,” Kassius spat.

He surged forward, propelled on a torrent of shadow. His poisoned blade hummed as it tore a line for Bud’s throat, and Hump felt its hunger. Bud barely managed to raise his own blade in time to meet the furious swing.

Despite Bud’s technique. Despite his Frostfire empowered strength. It wasn’t enough. Kassius’ slender blade hammered down on him, breaking through Bud’s block and throwing the knight off balance. Hump grimaced at the thrust that followed, hardly able to watch as his friend stumbled out of the way, dodging the blow by a hair’s breadth.

They exchanged a flurry of blows, but it was always Kassius on the attack. Bud scrambled to keep up, his blade a blur of motion, marking the air with trails of blue embers.

Across the chamber, Vamir cut his way through the undead horde, driving open a space for him to pass. The kobolds moved as one, puppeteered by the intent of the spell that raised them. They reared back, pursuing him for only a moment before filling the gap behind him and refocusing on their directive.

Vamir was almost through. Bud just had to hold on.

But he was fighting a man that had faced down a wolf dragon and won.

Hump clenched his fist around his staff. He felt useless, so he did the one thing he could think of to help. He cycled his essence using the River and Waves technique. Anything that would help him recover a piece of his strength. The river was barely a trickle now, just thin veins of essence moving throughout his body. But motion drew essence from the world around him, and with every moment he practiced, he grew a little stronger.

At his side, Celaine hissed in a breath in response to Bud dodging a thrust to his throat. The knight retreated a step, breaking free of Kassius’ barrage of blows and somehow finding his own opportunity to attack. Metal on metal filled the cavern as blue sword met black. Frostfire left trails of light in its wake, carving out pieces of shadow, pressing his advantage. Yet somehow, his flame never found Kassius himself. He was too fast. He glided back and forth on his shadow, changing direction in a way no human on foot could do.

“He can hold him,” Hump muttered.

Kassius caught Bud’s sword on his own and twisted the blades together so that Bud’s slid harmlessly to the side. Before he could recover, Kassius charged, body arched, poised like a duellist, his sword arm outstretched to the fullest.

The strike was simply too fast, even for Bud, empowered by his new blessing.

It plunged through Bud’s chainmail just over his heart, penetrating what lay below. The impact threw Bud’s body back and he landed in a crash of metal on the ground. Kassius stormed after him to finish the job.

“No!” Hump shouted, charging and stabbing at Kassius with his staff. It fell into his shadowy veil, not making contact.

Kassius swung at him with his sword, and Hump felt death descending. Celaine blocked it with her dagger, the ring of steel pounding in Hump’s ear. She caught the blow and redirected it. The impact sent her rolling to the ground, but it bought him a moment. He pulled his staff back and took aim at Kassius’ chest, gathering what little essence he’d managed to recover into the crystal focus. It moved painfully slow, like oozing ice through the veins of his arms.

But it moved. Power slipped from his hand and into his staff. The focus glimmered.

“Focused Blast!” He screamed, whether from pain or rage.

Blue light exploded from his staff, a spear of energy that lanced through the air and struck Kassius in the chest. He grunted from the impact, shadow parting like wind through mist. The impact threw him back a few steps. At this range, none of the spell’s power was lost, yet it had hardly been enough to stagger him. Hump just didn’t have enough essence left in him.

He fell against his staff, gasping. He was cold to his soul. He gritted his teeth, collecting himself and staring up at Kassius with all the defiance he could muster.

“Are you done?” Kassius asked.

“Just about,” Hump panted out.

Kassius grunted, an arrow pierced through his chest from behind, until the head protruded from his front.

Hump grinned, delighting in Kassius’ confusion as he stared down at the arrowhead. “He, however, is just getting started.”

Behind him, Vamir lay down his bow and drew his sword. “Hump, Celaine, see to Bud and get back to the tunnel.”

A tendril of shadow extended from Kassius, grabbing the arrow by the feathered end and pulling it free. Kassius screamed, blood spilled from his body, splattering the floor in streaks that were nearly black. He turned on Vamir, his face dark.

“Kassius has a heartstone,” Hump said quickly as he heaved Bud to his feet. “I think destroying it is the best way to kill him. His blade is also enchanted. Apparently, a cut from it is enough to kill a dragon.”

Vamir nodded. “Now go.”

“I don’t think so,” Kassius said, raising his sword toward them. He swung, but Vamir appeared in a blur, crouched low and swinging his sword up from waist height, knocking aside Kassius’ blade. He dashed in close, lunging with an equally quick strike. Still, Kassius was faster. Their blades caught in the middle. Steel clattered. Silver sparks shone amongst shadow—Vamir’s essence.

Celaine was already on her knees at Bud’s side. He lay on his back, gasping, one hand clutching his chest. She shoved it aside and pulled open the gash in his chainmail where the ringlets had torn for a better look, digging through the gambeson beneath.

“There’s no blood,” she said, confused.

“I’m okay,” Bud said breathily. “I’m okay.” He pushed Celaine back gently and slipped a hand beneath his armour at the neck, pulling out a chain necklace. On it was a silver flame medallion—Kelisia’s sigil. It was bent in half at the middle, indented from the impact of Kassius’ blade. There was no mistaking it.

Hump gawked. “Your mother’s medallion. I don’t believe it. Maybe the gods are watching after all.”

Bud tried to laugh, but it came out as a gasping wheeze.

“Best to save the chuckles for later,” Hump said, grabbing him by one arm while Celaine took hold of the other. Together they heaved the big man to his feet, and Bud groaned.

“You can’t leave!” Kassius boomed. His shadow wafted down and expanded along the floor like murky water. It clung to their feet, suctioning them in place. Bud’s Frostfire blade made short work of it, cutting them free with a simple sweep, parting the shadow-like cobwebs.

Vamir didn’t let that moment of distraction go to waste. His weapon blurred, silver sparks showered from its edge. Kassius barely managed to get his blade up in time to parry. He was thrown off balance, saved only by the liquid nature of his shadow that carried him back out of reach. The pressure of the room dropped like a weight off Hump’s shoulders. His feeling of sickness was gone. He had the strength to move—to breathe.

“See if you can handle me first,” Vamir said. He shrugged off his quiver full of arrows and chucked it to Celaine, who caught it and strung it on her back with ease. “The three of you, get out of here.”

“Try not to die,” Celaine said.

“Like I’d do anything as stupid as that,” Vamir said.

With that, the fight began in earnest.

They were both quick. So quick, it was hard to tell who was faster. Blow after blow, their swords clashed, scraping against each other. Steels twisting and sliding in a chorus of metal and a dazzling display of black and silver. Each fought with a long one-handed blade, but where Kassius favoured quick flicks and jabs, and a stable position, Vamir circled around him like a hawk, zipping in and out of combat with an agility Hump had never seen matched. He leaped over Kassius’ blade, spinning horizontally in the air as he brought his sword around at the prince’s now exposed flank. As he landed, he chucked a dagger from his belt and followed it forward.

Kassius’ shadow blocked it, then slapped out with a jagged spike when Vamir closed the distance. Vamir slipped underneath it, appearing around Kassius’ side in a blur of movement. Their blades met, ringing out in the song of expert duellists.

“Come on,” Celaine said, jogging toward the tunnel with a limp in her leg.

Hump followed, Bud at his side. He couldn’t help but glance back at the fight. For all Vamir’s strength, Kassius was still stronger. And the fight was growing more one sided by the second.

Vamir was slowing down. Dodging back instead of into the strikes. He was on the defence, dancing at the edge of Kassius’ reach, harrying him with stabs like lightning. Quick, flashy strikes, but he wasn’t breaking through. Kassius met each attack with an easy parry. Each time their blades struck, silver sparks lit up Kassius’ face, and Hump saw nothing but hatred and glee. He was enjoying this. Enjoying his chance to kill Chosen.

At the tunnel entrance, the injured dungeoneers had been dragged to the safety of the tunnel, while two of their own lay dead nearby. But the undead were falling too.

Priestess Alerai had her head bowed in prayer, chanting. Her body radiated an aura of Holy Light, shimmering in the air like golden fire. It streamed off her in great flares, forming around her like a cloud, taking on a semi-corporeal form. Around the group of dungeoneers, her powers formed a golden line in the shape of a half-circle that the kobolds had yet to pass. The sight alone filled Hump with a feeling of warmth, which meant it could only be some sort of boon for those that fought within it. She had brought her soul to bear, and it gave him hope.

As Hump and his party neared, a handful of undead kobolds spotted them and broke off from the horde. Hump readied his staff and Bud took up a position at the front to meet the attack. They held their ground while Celaine loosed arrows into them. One fell before the group reached them. Bud stepped forward and cut down the first in line, leaving only three kobolds remaining.

Hump readied himself for a fight, when light billowed behind them. The kobolds caught fire at once, caught by an attack from behind. They collapsed to the ground, clawing and screeching forward until their bodies refused to move.

Lantheer stood in the gap left behind by the now fallen kobolds. “Alerai!” he called.

The priestess looked at him, and golden light trailed up his feet.

He levelled his staff toward Kassius, eyes blazed red, and the top of his staff smouldered. Hump crouched as a fireball flew over his head, homing in on Kassius. Amidst the red flame, golden light flickered. Holy Light.

Kassius’ veil moved to block the attack as it had done before. This time, it was different. In a second, the shadow was set ablaze. Darkness and flame fought, black smoke billowing out from the shadow. Kassius screamed as his entire cloak was engulfed. His shadow expanded rapidly, blasting Vamir back. It gathered at his sides like two giant wings, then flapped, launching him through the air.

He landed in a tumble beside the dungeon core, rolling on the ground as he screamed. Lantheer launched another fireball as the flames were extinguished. Kassius rose to his knees, cloak still smouldering. He slashed at the oncoming fire, carving through it and disrupting the spell. Fire essence dissipated around him like tiny stars.

He searched the chamber desperately, eyes wild like a cornered animal. He stared at Lantheer, who was already readying his next spell, then turned on Vamir as the ranger closed the gap between them. He turned away from them both. For the first time, Hump saw what he thought was panic on the prince’s face. Was he searching for an escape? No. His eyes settled on something else. The crystal barrier that surrounded the dungeon core. The only thing keeping the wolf dragon at bay.

Hump’s eyes widened. “Stop him! He’s going to set it loose!”

Vamir doubled his efforts to reach him, but Kassius swiped at him with tendrils of shadow—a lazy strike, but it forced him to dodge. And it bought him the time he needed to plunge his sword deep into the barrier. It screeched as it widened the gap. Thick black veins bulged from the cut, spreading across the shell like an infection.

There was a crack like thunder. A ring of red light exploded in a shockwave around it, blasting both Kassius and Vamir away. Kassius remained on his feet but Vamir was sent flying and fell heavily to the ground. Hump steadied himself against his staff as a roaring wind rushed him, and the crystal barrier shattered into a thousand pieces.

Shards flew out like shrapnel. Kassius raised his shadows around him, absorbing them harmlessly and hiding him from view, even the sensation of his essence was gone. He was merely a spot of darkness in the chamber. The shards tore through the ranks of undead kobolds and dungeoneers like they were fodder. Hump’s heart nearly stopped when he heard Lantheer scream. The man collapsed to one knee, a piece of crystal the size of a hand embedded in the left side of his stomach. He knelt there gasping, head bowed. Only looking up when the ground began to shake.

The dragon roared, leaping from the nest in a sudden fury, wings beating up a storm. With Kassius veiled in shadow, it was the large cluster of kobolds and dungeoneers she found first. She charged.

“Dragon!” someone shouted. “Dragon!”

There were screams as another of the dungeoneers fell to the undead kobolds, caught out in the moment of distraction.

“Hold your ground,” Joslin roared. “Steady! Stand with me. Not one step back!”

Joslin actually stepped forward, raising her shield, intent on the dragon that charged straight at her. Her lips moved in a whisper, forming the beginnings of a chant.

The dragon tore through the first of the undead kobolds, tossing aside bodies and barrelling straight for Joslin.

Essence flared around Joslin’s shield and an illusionary version of it flickered into existence, this time almost as tall as the dragon. The dragon headbutted it with a boom that shook the dungeon, pushing Joslin back a step. The stone cracked beneath her feet, but she held. A lone shieldbearer against a dragon.

Then the wolf dragon swiped out with her claw, striking at the shield from the side. Joslin was thrown off balance, her illusionary shield losing its form. The dragon tried to press forward but reared back and screeched as it touched Priestess Alerai’s ring of holy power.

The dragon stumbled, finding her footing before tilting her head back. Her chest bulged and she extended her long neck, jaws dropping open, and green fire consuming the priestess.

There was no shield to stop it. No Chosen to disrupt the dragon’s flame. The green fire consumed her. She screamed, shrill and horrific. Worse though, was the silence that followed only moments later.

“Gods above,” Bud muttered, lowering his sword as he watched in horror.

Joslin roared, launching at the dragon with her shield and slamming into its side. The giant creature rocked from the force of the impact and fell back screeching as Sanya caught her with an arrow to the underside of her throat. But with Priestess Alerai’s power gone, there was nothing to keep the undead out.

They were losing. The escape was blocked. There was no way out and no way to fight. Kassius had already recovered from the blast and was rushing Vamir before the ranger had a chance to fully recover. He made it to his feet in time to retreat out of range, but Kassius pursued, gaining on Vamir, who was moving slower than before.

And then Hump searched desperately for anything. A weakness. Anything Kassius may have overlooked. What he found instead was a now unguarded tunnel near the back of the undead force, made clear by the dragon’s previous charge. It must have been the one Kassius used to enter the dungeon. More importantly, it was an escape route.

He could run. He could slip through the back and keep running while the dungeoneers held the tunnel. Someone had to tell the world about Kassius after all. Hell, they would probably reward him for it, if they believed him that is.

But he’d be running alone, abandoning those that came to save him. Abandoning his friends. Celaine wouldn’t leave Vamir, and Bud wouldn’t leave anyone.

Hump clenched his fist around his staff. And I won’t leave them. He was furious at himself for even thinking something so foolish. So emotional. He was a wizard. Logic was his greatest tool, and ignoring it a luxury he could not afford.

Still, he wouldn’t run. People he could count on were fighting by his side, and he wasn’t going to betray that trust. They were losing, that was all but a fact. Which meant only one thing.

He gritted his teeth. “If we want to make it out of here, we have to do something.”

The dragon tore apart kobolds and dungeoneers alike. For now, Joslin had managed to form up the group and hold the tunnel. A temporary fix. Once the undead stopped distracting the dragon she would be free to chase them through the tunnels until none remained.

“I take it you have an idea?” Celaine asked.

Hump looked back at the dungeon core. At the dragon’s egg. At the runes Kassius had carved into the stone nearby.

The runes, he thought. He’d only recognised the meaning of a few, but it was enough to know it was more than just a trap for a dragon. It was key to Kassius’ plan to absorb the dragon’s power.

Hump recalled the moment his spellbook shook when he was at Kassius’ side with the formation at his feet. His book hadn’t responded the same way to Kelisia’s power and the God Glyphs that formed around Bud, but it had done something.

He scrambled to pull his spellbook from his belt.

“What is it?” Bud said.

“I have an idea,” Hump said quickly. His book shook even as he touched it, and he could feel its excitement with his own.

“Hump…” Celaine stopped herself, looking at the spellbook doubtfully.

“Running won’t save us,” Hump said, opening his book. The spell formation was already there on the page, formed of thick black ink and jagged lines.

SPELLBOOK

The Binding of Thirteen

Unknown | Formation | Unknown | Unknown

Description

Unknown

There were no details other than the name, however the details were not what mattered. It was the formation etched on the page below, the lines brimming with essence, replicating the motion of power when Kassius had wielded it just as it had for Bud’s Heart of Frostfire runes.

While he couldn’t read many of them, the formation was simpler than God Glyphs. The essence pulsed through the formation rapidly, following the circle of runes from two directions and meeting in the centre at the bottom, before rushing back to the rune at the top where the caster had to stand. He lacked the meaning and intent of the formation, but with this he might just be able to copy it.

It was barely a start, yet it gave Hump a smidgen of hope. He would just have to hope he knew enough of Kassius’ intent to guide the spell’s effect. He’d figure out the rest when he had to. He snapped the spellbook closed. Bud and Celaine had their backs to him, protecting him from any of the undead that had tried to step close. Three new bodies lay on the ground nearby.

“Have you got a plan?” Bud asked.

“Sort of,” Hump said. “It’s not a very good plan.”

“Well as you said, it’s better than nothing,” Celaine said, loosing another arrow. “What is it?”

He told them, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

“Can you do it?” Celaine asked.

“I think so,” Hump said. “I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was possible. And unless you have a better idea, I don’t see what choice we have.”

Celaine looked around and then nodded. “I’m in.”

They looked at Bud.

“You don’t even have to ask,” he said. “All we need to do is get you to the nest?”

“Pretty much. I’ll handle the rest.” Hump decided not to tell them that the rest might kill him.

FORTY-ONE

LAST HOPE

Half a dozen straggling undead stood between them and the nest. They wandered back and forth like ants that had lost the trail, their bodies savaged by bloody wounds that no living creature could have survived. If it was just them, Hump might have felt confident. But with the horde and dragon on their right, and Kassius on their left, he felt trapped between a rock and a hard place.

“How do you want to do this?” Celaine asked. “I don’t see either of you sneaking past all this.”

“Neither do—” The chamber lurched, and Hump stumbled, digging his staff into the ground for balance. A shadow swept over him as the dragon launched itself through the air with a flap of her wings. Hump ducked on instinct. She landed amidst the kobolds, storming through their ranks, her footsteps beating the stone like drums. Green fire charred flesh and blackened bone, filling the air not ten feet away. With each breath, the temperature soared, the chamber like a giant oven and each of them food for the roasting.

Hump’s heart raced. He felt sick to his stomach as he looked upon the piles of burnt bodies. It was a miracle Joslin had held it at bay as long as she had. The shieldbearer’s face was marked with soot, her hair streaked with sweat, and her armour bloodied and stained with smoke.

And now Hump was about to walk straight on into the dragon’s nest. Gods, this was a bad plan. He’d seen how fast the creature could move, and he didn’t think Celaine’s gaze would stop her a second time. For a moment, he wondered whether it would be her fire or teeth that he would die to. Neither sounded pleasant, but at least both would be quick. Better than being caught by the horde at least.

He shook his head. This wasn’t the time to get distracted by fear.

Even as he thought it, the dragon whipped her tail, the air cracked, and a handful of kobolds went flying. One landed on the ground nearby in a bone-cracking crash that made Hump shudder. The creature couldn’t stand, so it clawed its way toward them, snarling, eyes shining with hungry, purple light.

Bud plunged his sword into its back, piercing its heartstone. As he pulled his sword free, ice crystallised over the wound and the kobold went still.

“We need to move,” he said, his voice hard.

Hump stared at the body for a moment, then looked toward their objective and nodded. He needed to focus, and he needed every bit of it he could muster. “Celaine’s right. There’s not a chance in hell we sneak through all this.”

“Good,” Bud said, a savage grin on his face. “A frontal charge then. That makes things easier.”

“I think that’s our best bet,” Celaine said. “We do this fast, before anything or anyone has a chance to stop us. Bud, handle everything that comes at us from the front. I’ll take care of the rest. Hump, conserve your essence. This all falls apart if you can’t even activate the formation.”

“Stay close,” Bud said. “Hump, the moment you get the chance, leave us behind and run. Don’t worry about us.”

Hump regarded his friends. This was his plan, and it would all fall apart if he couldn’t play his part. If it did… it wouldn’t just be him that died. “Are you sure about this?”

Bud turned to face the creatures that stood between them and the nest. “The gods are with us, Hump. They must be. They wouldn’t turn a blind eye to all this darkness, so we need not fear the path laid out before us. We’ll get you to the nest. Just stay close, and don’t stop for anything.”

Hump clenched his fist around his staff. He wanted to believe him. He wished he could so blindly trust in the gods, but he’d seen the fate of Sir Lucas. Even now the Lady Light’s paladin crawled around on the ground, bound by the scars of his torture.

He gave one last look at the dragon as she charged the dungeoneers once more. Joslin’s essence flared to meet her. The beast roared, unleashing a wave of fire across the tunnel entrance. When the fire faded, Joslin still stood, her steel shield glowing red with heat. At her side, the two melee warriors that remained fought back any undead that managed to slip past the dragon’s rampage. Behind them, Sanya led the other archers in volley after volley of arrows into the beast, but her armour was as hard as iron. Even where they penetrated, the wounds were quickly healed over by the dungeon core.

It was chaos. But it was chaos that might just work in their favour.

“I don’t see us getting a better chance,” Hump said. “Let’s do this.”

“Gods be with you both,” Bud said, breaking into a run. He charged the closest kobold in their path, cutting it down before it had even realised he was upon it. His blade tore through its chest from shoulder to stomach, shattering its heartstone. One down, but Bud’s use of Frostfire had drawn the eyes of more. The stragglers were reawakened and two more broke off from the horde to their right.

Bud didn’t slow. He carved a path straight through the centre of the chamber. Enhanced by Kelisia’s blessing, he was as fast and strong as a storm, and it took everything Hump had just to keep up. Where Bud didn’t kill immediately, ice formed on their wounds and hindered their movements or spread to their heartstone, cutting off their magic. It was an easy matter for Celaine to finish them off, whether with her new dagger or an arrow through the chest.

As they fought, more kobolds gave chase, but were quickly stopped by Celaine’s arrows. Each one imbued with enough essence to destroy the heartstones of the undead and leave their unmoving corpses on the ground behind them.

They were going to make it.

“You are nothing!” Kassius roared. “You will all fall!”

Hump glanced at him in time to see spikes of shadow shoot out in all directions, sending Vamir tumbling through the air. Ignoring Vamir, he surged toward them, an explosion of shadow sweeping over the chamber. It engulfed the black paladin in its essence, and veins of green shone brightly through the darkness, flooding the crippled man’s body.

The black paladin bellowed a scream as loud as the dragon’s roar and went silent. Essence pulsed, and like a puppet, the giant of a man rose from the ground. Whatever pain he felt before was gone, only the thrall remained. He stared emotionlessly. A glimmer of light shone faintly in the core of the black gem where his eye should have been. He lumbered into their path, armour creaking, limbs stiff and slowing his movement. Blood gushed from his wounded eye and a long gash down his side, but he showed no sign of pain. All over his face, the runic scars shone with the same green light as Kassius.

Dammit, Hump thought. They were so close, but the distance looked so much farther with the towering man in their path. Even with all the black paladin’s injuries, Hump wasn’t certain they could beat him.

He glanced over his shoulder. The dragon was still distracted by the force at the tunnel entrance. The dungeoneers managed to form a defensive line that was holding for now, at least. Despite the injury to his stomach, Lantheer was on his feet and had managed to retreat to the safety of the tunnel before he was overwhelmed. Fire blossomed from his staff in a thick stream of molten red. It snaked through the air, hitting the ground at the tunnel entrance to form a half-circle of flames around it. But even Wall of Fire lacked the stopping power of Priestess Alerai’s holy magic. The undead pushed through, legs charred and smoking, still driven on by the power of death. Without the priestess to imbue the dungeoneers with her power, the creatures didn’t stop crawling even when their legs crumbled from beneath them, blacked and ash-ridden.

“What are you doing?” Vamir growled, appearing silently beside them.

Ahead, the black paladin came to a stop in the centre of their path. Kassius approached behind him, drawing his shadows trailing him like a cloak as they were reabsorbed into his veil.

“Hump has a plan,” Celaine said.

“Well, it had better be a damn good one for you all to still be here,” Vamir said.

Hump winced. “Let’s call it good.”

“There is nothing left for you to do,” Kassius chided. “Your defeat is certain.”

“Your undead have nearly fallen,” Bud said. “Do you think you’re powerful enough to fight us all?”

Kassius scowled. “Kill them.”

His black paladin charged. Behind him, Kassius let loose spikes of shadow. Bud cut through them, Frostfire billowing. “Go!”

Celaine shot an arrow at the black paladin and it buried itself into his exposed neck. He staggered, knocking his stampede off balance the moment he barrelled into Bud with the force of a horse. Bud blocked the sword, but the weight of the swing sent him stumbling back. Kassius drew in to finish the job, only to be met by Vamir’s silver blade.

They were buying Hump his chance, and he wasn’t about to let it slip.

He scrambled out to the right, away from Kassius and the black paladin and straight for the nest. Behind him, the clatter of steel rang out and essence surged. He didn’t dare to turn back and look. He only had eyes on his objective. The nest was right before him, a crate of jagged stones. And there, in a patch of soft earth at the base of the dungeon core’s pedestal, was the egg, as black as charcoal in the crevices, with scales of red and golden flame. The prize the dragon had so fiercely protected.

Even as he reached for it, Hump felt heat and essence brimming inside. He grabbed it and pulled it close. It was hot to the touch, like a stone left at the edge of a campfire. The scaled shell was sharp against his fingers. He clutched it to his chest and stepped out of the nest to where the formation was etched into the ground.

As directed by his spellbook, he positioned himself on the rune at the top of the circle and faced the dragon. “Here draggy, draggy, dragon!” he called. “I’ve got your…”

The dragon whirled on him, and her roar thundered through the cavern. The air from her breath alone was as strong as if he were caught in a storm. She lowered her head, pale green eyes glowering at him.

“…egg,” Hump murmured, eyes wide.

This was a terrible idea.

The dragon crossed the distance in seconds, charging through the dozen or so kobolds that blocked her path, her eyes solely on Hump and the egg.

As much as every instinct told him to run, Hump held his ground. He gathered his will, drawing up the last of his essence and linking himself to the formation through his staff. His essence seeped into the runes and they drew it hungrily, sapping what remained of his power from him all at once. Once the link was made, the runes did the rest themselves. The first one—Hold—came alight with Hump’s intent. He sensed it draw upon the essence of the dungeon.

The dragon stepped straight into the formation. The effect was instantaneous. Her momentum stopped like she’d struck a wall. Hump felt an excruciating heat. Essence flooded back into him from the runes—the first pulse of power. It tore at his insides like Wizardfire, filling him with energy that threatened to break his body apart.

Hump clenched his jaw. He was just a conduit, a part of the river, and he had to let it flow through him if he were to keep from burning up. He directed the essence through his channels, back into his staff, and into the formation. The runes glimmered as essence swept back down the formation, circling around the dragon’s trapped body.

The next rune came alight with a solid glow. Power. Hump hardly had to think, the runes and essence gave the spell all the structure it needed, he was just along for the ride. His intent merely gave it a target. As he focused on the dragon, she writhed under the weight of his will, fighting to break free. One by one the thirteen runes were activated. Each time, the dragon’s struggles grew weaker. Her cries became more desperate.

“No!” Kassius roared nearby. Out of the corner of his eye, Hump saw Vamir block his path. “Stop him,” Kassius shouted. “Stop him!”

The black paladin tried to obey, but Bud struck at his knees, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Nothing could stop Hump now. He was alone, at the mercy of the formation and the dragon’s power, caught within the magic’s momentum. He felt like passing out from the heat as power pulsed from the dragon back to him, coursing through his body like liquid fire. He focused on the River and Waves. He focused on his cycles, circulating all the essence fed into him and directing it back to the runes. He had to do this. For his friends. For the people that were counting on him, and for those who died because of Kassius and his evil. He’d led his party to the centre of the dungeon for his plan, and there was no escape now except to succeed.

Life. Transmutation. Control. With each rune, the suppressive force grew stronger. The dragon tried to slither out from his hold, but all it took was a thought for Hump to hold it still.

When essence filled the final rune, the dragon slumped. Veins of essence flowed from its heartstone, forming ethereal lines through the air that connected to each of the thirteen runes. All at once, that essence rushed back into Hump. Power radiated within him like he’d never felt before. It flowed through veins in the ground, and then into him. He screamed against the overwhelming pain, his power growing with each eternal second. Suddenly it vanished.

It all vanished.

All pain, and cold, and light. He was no longer in the chamber. His physical body was gone, and he found himself floating alone in darkness. No. Not alone. The dragon burned ahead of him. No longer the pale green essence of death, but a red and fiery light filled with warmth and pride—a remnant of the real dragon. They sped toward each other, flecks of light in the darkness.

There was a reason no wizard absorbed the power of a heartstone. It was the power of a creature’s soul. No matter how strong a creature was, the soul was both a powerful and fragile thing. When two souls collide, no side comes out unchanged.

Hump had neither the strength nor will to absorb a soul as powerful as a dragon’s, but at least he could channel it. He could take that power and, just for a moment, he could give it direction.

At least, that was his theory.

He reached for her, drawing on the essence that formed her soul. He felt a connection like a spark in his mind. For a moment, he felt her rage and fury, and then her essence engulfed him, swallowing him whole.

The darkness changed. Now there was only white-hot light.

FORTY-TWO

DRAGON’S HEART

As suddenly as the white light took him, Hump found himself floating through clouds. The warmth of the sun beat against his back and wind brushed his face, cool against his skin. Down below, a luscious green forest stretched out across the land. On and on it went, farther than he thought possible, across hills, and rivers, and mountains. Untouched by civilisation.

Am I dead? he wondered. It was dangerous taking on as much essence as he had, but he’d hoped to have at least held on long enough to put some of that power to use.

He tried to turn his head and examine his body, but it didn’t move as instructed. With every fibre of his being he willed his head to turn, his eyes to flicker, for anything to move and give him some sign that he was still alive. Nothing happened. All he could do was stare out across the expanse, drifting.

The forest swept past down below, the clouds slid away.

Then something changed. His body shifted, but not by his command. His muscles tensed and blood rushed in his ears as loud as a waterfall.

Faster than he could process, he felt himself moving. The world spun, and he was plummeting toward the trees. Wind whipped against his face and howled in his ears. Down below, birds flocked from the trees in great black clouds, scattering into the air. And then Hump saw them.

Dragons.

They dove through the air at his side, their charcoal-coloured bodies poised like arrows, streaking for the ground. The first were already amongst the trees, leaping and flying through the canopy, crashing to the forest floor below.

The ground was getting closer. Excitement filled him, overwhelming his sense of reality, drawing him into the moment until his heart beat like thunder, pounding in his ears with more power than he ever felt. He wanted to join them in the trees. He wanted to scream and cry out with all the delight and exhilaration of the fall. Instead, what escaped him was a mighty roar.

And then he was amongst them. Ducking and diving between trees, racing against the other dragons as they went.

All at once he felt them. The minds of the pack. Eight brothers and sisters, their thoughts intertwined in a whirlpool of images and emotions. Hump’s mind swam with the sheer force of their raw emotion. It was too much to take in at once. Their happiness became an explosion in his chest. His body was fuelled by their thrill for the hunt. It raged through him until his blood boiled with theirs, each body an extension of his own. A part of a whole, linked in mind and spirit.

He tried to raise his head and roar but again nothing happened. It hit him then. This was not his body. The dragon had swallowed him and now he was experiencing a part of her. A remnant memory. Her soul was imprinting on his, consuming it. The infection had already begun, and Hump had thrown himself to it entirely, not offering up even the slightest hint of resistance.

As the pack howled around him, his worries fell away. Their thrill was all-consuming. It goaded him on, everything else was irrelevant. All that mattered was the moment and the hunt.

As one with the dragon, he crashed through two trees, trailing just behind a sister. She glanced back at him, her lips peeled into a playful snarl. He could sense the challenge in her yellow eyes, polished like fine gold. A challenge he would not let slide. He flapped his wings, launching across the forest floor at a mad sprint, bounding through the trees as if they were fresh saplings rather than thick trunks. He was a dragon and nothing could stand before his might. His thoughts were only for the chase. The challenge. The thrill.

The gap closed and he pounced upon their sister’s tail.

Hump’s stomach lurched. The forest toppled and the ground rose beneath him until the world turned over. When it righted, scorched earth and charred trees filled the space that was once forest.

He was stunned by sudden fear. He couldn’t understand what he was supposed to be afraid of, but he sensed something was wrong. Fear seeped in through his connection to the pack, freezing him in place. He searched for them but all he saw was flame. Trees blazed around him, filling the air with black smoke as thick as night. With every passing moment, the pack’s terror flooded him like poison. Urging him to flee, to hide, to find them. He felt their pain in flashes of bloody wounds, overwhelming his senses. It hurt as if it were his own.

They called for him—for her. Their names were more than just words. They were sensations and images, emotions too complex for Hump to fully understand, though he could feel the beauty in them even now. The dragon—his host—was the Daughter of Storms, fierce and powerful. She was pride and determination. She was fire and lightning, fastest of all in the pack. A streak of black through clear blue skies. A burst of red flame amidst dark clouds.

And she would not fall here.

There was another voice amongst them, so quiet, Hump almost couldn’t hear it. Then he felt the warmth in her belly. The life growing within her. This rage and fear was not just for her. They dared to threaten her egg. Her child.

She flapped her wings, pain exploding in her side. She tore at it with her jaws, ripping free a spear as long as a person. The pain was staggering. Her vision darkened, but voices were nearing. Men and women shouted, speaking in words neither she nor Hump understood. The intent behind those words was more than clear enough.

Again she tried to take flight, but another spear struck her, piercing deep into the flesh beneath her wing. She ran, barrelling through the blazing trees, fighting her way up the hill in search of escape. A man blocked her path, but she didn’t slow, barrelling past him and sending him flying. Pain flared like fire in her shoulder as his spear gouged deeply. She tore it out with a furious bite and charged onward. Behind her, the shouts grew closer.

And there it was, the edge of a cliff and open skies beyond. Only a single man blocked the way. A man Hump was all too familiar with. Kassius, wrapped in his shadow, his sword in hand.

No, Hump thought. A sick feeling filled him as he glimpsed the distinct black veins along the blade. He realised where they were and what this was. They were in the scorched section of woodland he’d passed on the way to the dungeon encampment.

Dread. He knew what was coming next, and he didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want to feel it.

With all his might, Hump willed the dragon to stop. To turn back and find another way. This was not a blow she could take. But there was no changing what had already come to pass. She charged forward with certainty. No human could stand against the might of a dragon, and any that dared was a fool!

But Kassius merely stepped aside, flicking out his thin sword to strike at her leg. It was the smallest of nicks. A cut along the thigh, all but beneath notice. A puny wound to a dragon that would do nothing to stop her flight.

She leapt and spread her wings. The winds carried her, and she soared high into the sky until the heat of the blazing forest could no longer reach them. Elation flooded in from the pack. Relief filled her as she realised she and her child were safe.

Then pain came and the world went black and silent as death.

The next thing Hump knew, they were lying on hard stone, surrounded by darkness. Every breath was filled with agony, radiating from the small nick on her leg. So much pain. It siphoned strength and drained life. Even for a wizard, this cold was beyond anything Hump had felt. She was dying. The pack was not with her, and the loneliness that remained was most painful of all. The world was void without their emotion. It was empty without their senses. She had never felt so isolated, and it was terrifying.

Amongst all that fear was something else. Something more powerful. It took a long time for Hump to understand just what that was, but as the dragon weakened and the life left her body, he felt determination and love so strong it left him in awe. A sensation beyond even the might of a dragon.

Nested against her belly was an egg. Through all of this, it was the one thing that was safe. Nothing would change that, and nothing else mattered. She would protect it to the death and beyond. She wouldn’t leave, even if death tried to make her.

Hump felt a spark as her life left her. Her essence leaked into the ground and was absorbed. The stone shimmered. The walls came alight with veins of pure red essence. A red stone rose from the ground beside her body, held up on a pedestal. It grew brighter and brighter as it drew in all the essence it could, soaking in every part of her that was left, filling the chamber with light.

Even as her body died, a fragment of her soul remained. The piece that belonged to her child. Her mind and spirit might have withered away, but her sole purpose remained, etched into her heartstone like God Glyphs.

Her egg would be protected. Nothing else mattered. The world’s essence responded to her will, fuelled by her emotion, given form by her intent. It was the power to stave off death, the power to birth a dungeon core, the power to protect what mattered most.

When the final sliver of her life was gone, the world went dark once more. Hump was back in his body, the heat of the dragon’s essence and soul filling him to the point of breaking. All that remained of her coursed through him. Her fear, rage, loneliness, and above all, her determination to protect the egg.

Nothing else mattered. Kassius would not have it. Nobody would. The egg was his and his alone. They could not have it!

“No!” Kassius cried. He turned away from Vamir and charged at Hump, his eyes wide and full of hate. “That power is mine!” He clenched his fist, gathering shadow to his hand and launching it at Hump.

It all happened so slowly. Hump’s body burned with the essence within him that tried to tear free. His body simply wasn’t strong enough to contain it, he needed an outlet, and what better target was there than the murderer of so many innocents.

With a thought, Hump let loose the power within him. It left his body in a sweep of fire, exploding in all directions. The shadow was blasted back and Kassius’ cloak set aflame. He screamed and launched himself back, wrapping his shadow around itself to put out the fire.

“It is not yours!” Kassius roared. “I found it! I claimed it!”

Kassius’ face twisted in his fury. The pale light of his eyes shone brighter, shining through his skin. He did the one thing wizards could not do. He gave in to his emotions, he let his anger control him, and with it, he let the essence of death take over. His hair turned grey and grainy, his skin creased and cracked, but no blood came from the wounds. He looked like a walking corpse.

And Hump had just the thing to set him free.

FORTY-THREE

DRAGON’S LEGACY

The dragon’s heartstone brimmed with power, pulsing like the beat of a heart. With each beat, a wave of essence poured into Hump, rekindling what his previous spells had cost him. In an instant, the cold of a day’s fighting was gone. His pains healed and his strength returned. What essence remained smoked off Hump in blazing red trails. He was an imperfect vessel, hardly able to contain a fraction of the power that now filled him, let alone control it. And his body knew it. Hump ground his teeth against the searing heat. He wanted to scream. He wanted to collapse to the ground and curl up into a ball until the pain stopped.

He clutched the dragon’s egg tightly to his chest, hugging it close. There was no room to fail now, not after all he’d done. Not with so many people counting on him. He’d taken on the dragon’s power, and with it he had taken her determination. He’d controlled Wizardfire before, now he would control this. He would not be beaten.

He willed his essence into his staff, forming a spell in his mind and infusing it with the dragon’s power. It surged through his veins faster than he could think. The runes on his staff smouldered then came alight with its power. They crackled in the wood, hissing as essence streamed off them, too much to hold back. A heartbeat later, that power bubbled to the surface of the crystal focus. It boiled like liquid fire, raging within the crystal confines, fighting to break free.

Hump couldn’t hold it back much longer. He solidified the image of the spell formation in his mind and growled out, “Blast!” Essence misted from his breath, his voice resonated with power.

The spell burst forward all at once, infused with the dragon’s fire essence. It spread through the chamber uncontrollably, a torrent of flame that burnt as bright as the sun, sweeping back the shadows. The heat seared at Hump’s face. The flame expanded like a cone from his staff, until Kassius was gone from view, hidden in fire. Where it lacked in focused efficiency, it more than made up for it in pure power.

At least Hump thought it did.

Kassius cut through the fire with a single swing of his sword, tearing it apart like a curtain. Hump’s blood pounded in his ears as the fire dissipated around the man harmlessly, fading into darkness.

It had been too easy. So much power, yet Kassius turned it aside with a single movement. A single sweep of that deathly sword. Hump hadn’t even sensed essence at work.

He blasted him again, and Kassius launched his own shadows back. A contest of will and power. They threw spells back and forth. Kassius tried to close the distance while Hump rained fire upon him. But each spell was met with a cut of that sword, or a bolt of shadow. For all Hump’s effort, he had yet to do anything but scorch Kassius’ shadows.

Kassius made a quick gesture with his free left hand and his shadow cloak billowed, gathering into the shape of a ball. A spike shot from it like a ballista bolt, a silent blur through the air, but Hump felt its presence like encroaching death.

Hump barely raised his Shield in time. With so much power coursing through him the wall formed the instant he willed it, as thick as his arm and dense with essence. The shadow exploded against it like a jet of water, pressing Hump back a step. He stabbed his staff into the ground and pressed his weight into the blast, grinding his teeth. He couldn’t fall back. If he left the rune he stood on, he’d lose his connection to the formation and there would be nothing to help him control what power now coursed through him. The shadow broke around him, his Shield screeching like scraping glass as four sharp lines of darkness rebounded off the point of impact and spread out around him, obscuring his view.

When the shadow subsided, Kassius had closed the distance. He came fast, gliding on his shadow. Vamir cut off his attack with his own blade, silver sparks shining amongst shadow. It was only now that Hump saw the state Vamir was in. The leathers were torn ragged, and through the gaps he saw the red scales that coated his skin were chipped and bloodied. Kassius swept Vamir back with heavy swings, chasing him on his cloud of shadow. There was no running for Vamir now, not while he was defending Hump.

But Hump wasn’t as helpless as he’d been before.

He gathered his power and focused it, trying to condense it into a more efficient and narrower beam of fire. It was like fighting against a tidal wave. His essence was erratic, moving in all directions at once, a torrent of violent waves that threatened to rupture his channels and split him apart. He didn’t dare to try a Focused Blast, not with such violent energy. The spell would blow up in his face before he’d even gathered half the essence it required.

“Vamir!” Hump roared, his essence already bubbling over. The ranger didn’t even glance back as he dodged away from Kassius and gave Hump an open line to attack.

“Blast!” Hump barked. Pure essence exploded from his staff, laced with ribbons of fire.

Kassius’ shadow moved to meet it, stretching through the air as if to encompass the flame. It burnt back the shadow, piercing through it and striking Kassius in the chest. He was hurled back, flipping through the air only to land lightly in a bed of still burning shadow. Again, his power turned in on its self, folding over the flame again and again, until there was no flame left. It was a contest of power, and at least for now, Kassius was winning.

Still, this time Hump had done damage. Where the flames had struck, dark burns covered Kassius’ chest and marred his armour. His wounds shone with sickle green, knitting themselves back together while the shadows reformed around him, cloaking him once more in their protection.

Hump gasped as another wave of power flooded in, filling the gap of what was lost. He clenched his jaw against the pain caused by the violent energy, refusing to let Kassius see it. Vamir took up a position in front of him, waiting for Kassius’ next attack.

Kassius laughed. “Do you think that just because you’ve absorbed that power you can use it? You are weak, like untempered steel. There is nothing you can do but tickle me with petty spells. You are no wizard, just a boy in over his head.”

He hated to admit it, but Kassius was right. This power was too much for him. He needed time to at least get it somewhat under control if he were to stand a chance.

“Then why did you try so hard to recruit me?” Hump said.

“Potential,” Kassius said. “But potential is fruitless if you throw your life away. You will die here, along with everyone else.”

Hump didn’t answer. His eyes flicked to the left, where Bud and the black paladin fought. Celaine was at his back. Her arrows pierced the paladin’s exposed flesh like a pin cushion yet seemed to do nothing to slow him down. His black aura was back, shrouding him in the presence of death. A long line of ice covered the side of his knee where Bud must have struck him, but as he walked the ice cracked and broke away. Damage to his body was irrelevant, for it was death magic controlling him now.

Bud looked exhausted. His blond hair plastered with sweat, and there was a deep dent in his left shoulder plate. His left arm hung useless at his side.

Steel rang out nearby and Hump turned back to see Kassius only paces away, Vamir blocking his path once more. He’d crossed the distance without Hump even noticing.

“Hump, whenever you’re ready,” Vamir said through gritted teeth.

Hump had to focus. His friends were on the brink of defeat, all to buy him his opportunity. An opportunity that he couldn’t waste. This was his plan, and he had told them he could pull it off. Now he had to follow through. There was no room for distractions, and certainly no room for failure.

His master’s words echoed in his mind. ‘A wizard must believe in himself first, only then will the world obey him. Now focus and try again.’

Hump looked inward, envisioning his channels throughout his body, a sweeping river with hundreds of tiny streams spreading out from it. Power leaked from everything. So much, Hump knew there was no way he could contain it all. If he tried, he’d explode from the pressure. Instead, he decided to focus on what his core had absorbed and the essence still within his channels. They were flooded with essence. Waves rampaged through each of them, breaking against each other and coming away stronger. It was chaos. He had to bring it under his command and make it work with him if he were to make real use of this power.

He began to cycle it, willing it all in one direction, forcing it to break away from its natural inclination and follow his command. He clenched his jaw. Pain flared in renewed agony as the essence resisted, but his will would not bend. The essence would move by his intent. It would obey him.

And it did. The relief was immediate. His insides relaxed as the waves shrank and his essence steadied. He was still filled to the brim, but he could manipulate it better now that it was no longer fighting against him.

Vamir screamed, drawing Hump’s attention back to the moment. A spike of shadow pierced the ranger through the side of his stomach. He stumbled back, clutching at the wound with his left hand. His eyes suddenly shone green like Celaine’s, they were wild with pain. Kassius cut at him with his sword and Vamir barely raised his own blade in time to block. But the block was weak, and Kassius bashed it aside with ease, leaving Vamir open. Kassius drove a kick into his stomach, sending him sprawling to the ground, gasping.

“No!” Celaine screamed, letting loose an arrow at Kassius, but his shadows knocked it aside. They were too powerful for such a mundane attack.

There was no time left. Hump let his essence spill out from him and into his staff. He let his senses reach out into the endless expanse beneath him, and he called forth stone.

Tendrils of yellow light burst from his crystal focus, piercing into the ground nearby. The chamber cracked, rocks rose into the air and floated there. A dozen of them, each as big as fists. If his fire wouldn’t work, he’d try something else. He filled them with his essence, and they glowed red hot. A droplet of molten rock fell to the ground and went solid at the touch of cold stone below. Their cracks shone like embers as he infused them with more essence, and Hump felt power beyond anything he’d summoned before.

He swept his staff forward, hauling the stones in Kassius’ direction as much with physical force as with will. “Rockshot!”

Kassius must have sensed them coming as he turned just in time. He moved with superhuman speed, but even he wasn’t fast enough to dodge them all. Three stones struck him: one in the hip, stomach, and shoulder. He was thrown back and sent rolling across the ground. His shadow fell out around him and Hump saw deep dents in his armour and flesh where his bones had been crushed within. Liquid stone melted to his flesh and still sizzled. Kassius screamed as he rose to his feet, face contorted with rage and pain.

His cloak swept across the ground, a growing shadow in the evening sun. It burst upon Hump like a wave, covering him until the entire world turned to black.

Hump raised his Shield without a word, calling upon the spell through instinct alone, surrounding himself with its power just as he had done to fend off the dragon’s breath. Shaping it until he was fully encompassed by its walls. Something hit him hard in the back and he stumbled forward. He turned to see a crack along his Shield, and in a panic, threw more essence into it. The crack shimmered and faded, just as another impact struck it. Another crack. Again, Hump willed it shut, but Kassius didn’t stop.

His Shield shook and chimed like a bell. He screamed, fighting to keep the cracks sealed, pushing every bit of essence he could into the wall. Willing it to stay closed, to stand against Kassius’ blade. But with each strike, the cracks worsened, webbing out across the dome. It took all of Hump’s strength just to hold his ground. Crack after crack, his barrier weakened. This wasn’t going to work. He had to do something, and he had to do it now.

Desperately, he did the only thing he could think of. He gathered his essence into his staff, ignoring the damage to his Shield. He’d only have one shot at this. It had to count. Once his spell was ready, he gripped his staff in both hands.

Kassius struck on Hump’s left side, sending a web of cracks shooting through his shield. Hump aimed his staff at that spot. He let his Shield fall, the walls crumbling to shimmering dust around him, pure white essence against shadow.

He blasted it apart. The shadow burnt away in a flash of fire. Kassius grunted on the other side, hidden by flames. As the spell and darkness cleared, Hump saw Kassius on the ground ten paces away. He was struggling to stand. Clearly the damage was taking its toll, and not even his healing powers were enough to keep up. Or perhaps he was running out of essence.

Hump took the chance to glance back behind him at the sound of voices. The dungeoneers fought their way through the last of the kobold horde. Joslin was first through their ranks. She bashed the undead aside with her shield and propelled herself forward with a blast of essence, slamming into the black paladin and sending him staggering. Bud’s sword blazed with Frostfire as he plunged it into his stomach through the gap in the paladin’s chest plate.

A silver flash came from behind him as Celaine’s body went taut, her bow pulled back to its fullest. She released an arrow that pierced the paladin through the black gemstone in his eye. For a moment, the giant of a man stood there, then he crumpled to the ground in a chorus of clattering metal.

Farther back, Lantheer rained fire upon what remained of the kobolds, burning them to ashes.

“Take him down!” Hump roared, readying his own fire. Flaming bolts shot through the air from his staff, each homing in on Kassius. As they struck, Celaine landed an arrow through the prince’s throat, another caught him through the stomach, but still he fought to stand. With every wound, his death magic glowed brighter, green light piercing through the gaps in his body like rays of some evil sun.

Kassius gathered his shadows around him even as they burned. Hump felt the prince’s essence condensing. He felt his power brimming. It exploded from him suddenly. A dozen spikes of shadow shooting at the dungeoneers. Hump summoned his Shield, blocking one of the spikes. Through the shadow he glimpsed Kassius coming at him. He’d gathered his shadows into wings and swept them down, flying forward so fast Hump had no hope of dodging.

But not faster than Vamir. The ranger tore through Kassius’ left wing with a silver swing, sending him tumbling back to the stone. Kassius landed hard and rolled, not stopping for a moment as he rose on all fours and rushed at Hump. His face was as white as a ghoul, gaunt as if the life had been sucked from him, driven mad by the power coursing through him.

“It’s mine!” he screeched, rage and hate filled his voice, even as blood oozed from his mouth. “You can’t have it! Kill him! Kill all of them!”

But there was no one left to fight for him.

The undead had fallen. His black paladin had been defeated. He’d chosen a path where he sacrificed everything for power, and now he was alone.

Staring at his greed. At his hate. At the man that had taken the lives of so many, Hump felt nothing but rage. Within him, the part of the dragon that remained, raged with him. Hump’s blood boiled. The thrill he’d felt before returned. As power pulsed into him from the formation, it felt different this time.

Hump took a deep breath and gathered his will. It was never his intention to claim this power for himself, it would consume him. If he survived, it could turn him into a warlock like Kassius. He just needed to borrow it, to act as a conduit for the power and give it direction. But more than that, he wanted the dragon’s last wish to come true. Clutching her egg to his chest, it was the least he could do. He channelled all of that power, all of that emotion and essence, and he gave it a target.

Kassius wanted the power—the life—of a dragon. Hump would give it to him, along with all the horror and pain he’d caused. Hump felt every bit of it. Her sadness tore at him, her fear and desperation filled him with the strength to fight, and her love and pride for her pack and child gave power to the spell beyond what simple essence alone could provide. Hump couldn’t stop the flood of tears, just as he could no longer stop the magic at work.

“Have it,” Hump said quietly. “Have it all!”

His intent joined with the dragon’s and the world began to move, fuelled by the dying wish of the Daughter of Storms. He felt her mind in his, just as he had felt the rest of her pack. Her essence flowed through him like a sun within his soul. His blood boiled, and his skin felt like it erupted in flame. But the essence that burned him was the life of a dragon, or at least, what was left of her. For all the damage it caused, it healed and strengthened him too. It gave him the power to keep going. He let all that heat build, allowing it to swell within his soul… and then he let it go.

“Focused Blast!” he screamed. No, he roared, and essence erupted from his mouth in a beam of fire.

Like Kassius, Hump let emotion and magic take over, and now there was nothing he could do but let it take its course.

The fire bathed Kassius’ entire body. He screamed, bringing up his shadowy veil to try and resist, but it was consumed faster than he could summon it. Burnt away like a suit of paper armour, until there was nothing left but Kassius’ agonised screams.

Hump wasn’t sure how long his fire lasted, but when it was over, he had fallen to his knees, propped up by his staff, his egg hugged to his chest. Before him, Kassius was a husk. His skin charred and blackened, his chest torn open by the fire and his still beating heart blackened within. The heartstone embedded in its tissue shone with green light, the only thing still keeping him alive. Even now his flesh tried to knit itself back together.

Hump’s throat was parched. He couldn’t hear. The world looked as if its colour had been drained out of it and all that remained was a world of different shades of grey. His face stung as if he’d spent a day in an oven, while the rest of him was as cold as ice. Only the warmth of the egg kept him conscious, kept him sane.

Nobody moved. All around him the world had simply stopped, the people frozen in place. Bud was collapsed over the fallen paladin’s corpse, even the light of his Frostfire now seemed to be a silver-grey. Celaine clutched at her leg, her face pained. Vamir had dove away from Hump’s fire and taken cover behind a boulder, peering out from the side.

They were still and silent.

A rip tore through the chamber and Hump turned, wide-eyed, to stare at Kassius. Above him, a tear had opened in the world. A hole of shadow, piercing through the space to a void of nothingness. From it, a dark figure stepped out. Its body was formed of lines of darkness as if it were made of charcoal. At the edges, it flickered, constantly shifting and concealing any true features. Its face was hidden beneath a mask of shadow, hiding all but pure white eyes.

A demon, Hump thought at first. He stared silently, not daring to move. His mind too clouded to put together any real thoughts, but every instinct screamed for him to run.

The figure looked over them slowly, and Hump’s heart pounded. Fear crept into him like death had come to claim him. He felt helpless before that pressure. It lacked the power of Kelisia, but it more than made up for it by the evil contained within. As if it could sap Hump’s soul in a moment if the figure decided it to be so.

A flood of relief rushed through Hump as the figure turned its gaze down upon Kassius, tilting its head to the side as he studied the prince’s body. After a moment, it reached out with an inhumanly long arm, claws like knives grabbing Kassius by his hair. It dragged the prince behind it as if he weighed nothing and stepped back through the tear in the world. Hump got one last look at the void beyond before the hole closed, and with it, sound and colour returned to the world.

FORTY-FOUR

DRAGON’S GIFT

Hump’s body slumped against his staff weakly. It took everything he had just to stay standing. Everything hurt. His skin felt raw and burnt, his core as cold as ice. The power from the formation was gone and all that remained was an empty void where it had once raged. He still had things to do. The egg needed to be protected. He couldn’t let the others take it.

Hands took him around the shoulders, and he looked up to see Celaine’s horrified face staring down at him, checking his face and eyes. Her touch stung against his skin. “Hump, can you hear me? Are you alright?” She touched his forehead with her hand. “You’re freezing.”

Hump blinked at her, then nodded slowly. He hugged the egg closer. His egg. It was warm against his chest. “You can’t have it.”

She frowned. “What?”

Hump pulled away, turning his body so the egg was out of reach. “It’s mine.”

She glanced down at the egg, and realisation dawned on her face. Her mouth dropped open and closed as if she was searching for words. “I understand,” she said quietly. “It’s yours. We won’t take it from you.”

Vamir limped up behind her, sword still in one hand. With the other, he clutched at his wounded stomach. His scales were gone now, but the marks of battle had scarred the skin beneath. A deep red line carved across his belly, bleeding, but not badly.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I think the egg has bound to him,” Celaine said.

“Damn it,” Vamir said. “Not good. That’s not good at all!” He glanced at the dungeoneers. With the kobolds, the black paladin, and Kassius now dealt with, they were securing the dungeon core. Claiming their prize.

“What’s not good?” Bud asked, joining them. He gave Hump a worried smile. “Hump did it! Kassius is dead. Not even his ashes remain.”

“His ashes?” Vamir said, frowning. He looked at the spot where Kassius’ body should have been, then looked back at Hump. “What the hell did you do?”

“Something came,” Hump croaked. “A demon.”

“What do you mean?” Bud asked. “There was nobody here. It’s over Hump, you did it.”

“What did it look like?” Vamir asked urgently.

Hump searched for words, but his mind was too foggy. “Shadow.”

“I need more than that, Hump,” Vamir said. “Describe it to me.”

Hump tried to find the words, growing dizzy the harder he thought. He swayed, and Celaine propped him up.

“This can wait, Vamir,” Celaine said. “He needs medical care.”

“He does,” Vamir said, but he didn’t move.

“I won’t let you,” Celaine growled. “He is bound to it now. You have no right to break that bond.”

“What bond?” Bud asked, voice tinged with anger. He stepped closer to Hump’s side. “What’s going on here? Why is this egg so important?”

“The egg belongs to our people, but it is bound to him,” Celaine said quickly, whispering so that the dungeoneers couldn’t hear. “It’s our job to take it back, but the only way to break the bond it is to kill Hump.”

“What?” Bud growled, stepping closer. His hand went to his sword. “You can’t!”

“I won’t allow it,” Celaine said. “The egg is his. He was chosen. Fate has brought them together and it will stay that way.”

Vamir said nothing. He stared at Hump, scrutinising, and Hump stared back, keeping the egg out of reach.

“Vamir!” Celaine snapped.

He turned away from Hump and sighed. “I get it. Fate has spoken, and we will listen.”

When he took a step closer, Hump tried to back away, but Vamir rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Stay still, lad. Easy there. You just hold that egg tight and we’ll handle the rest.”

Behind Vamir, the other dungeoneers were watching now. They were battered and bloodied, and many had fallen. Joslin, Lantheer, Sanya, and three more still stood. They looked exhausted. Half of the rescue party had died for this. Chosen, practitioners—the best adventurers the encampment had to offer—including Priestess Alerai. This was hardly a victory. Now though, it was time to divide up the spoils and convince each other it was worth it.

Hump didn’t have the strength to argue for his share, so he entrusted that role to Vamir. Already he felt his eyes closing, his mind too sluggish to figure out what to do next.

“Thank you,” he said, but he couldn’t hear any sound coming from his mouth. Blackness descended.

* * *

When Hump awoke, there was a tent roof above him and a beautiful young lady pressing her hand to his forehead. She smiled when she noticed him watching. Her eyes were a gentle blue.

“Good afternoon!” she said cheerfully. Her hand was warm and shone with radiant light, bright as the sun, shimmering amongst her golden hair. Light essence. “It’s good to see you awake.”

Hump blinked back his bleariness and stared at her, trying to figure out if he was awake or he’d died and gone to heaven. She wore a white cloth cap with a yellow star vaguely shaped like a cross on its centre. The mark of Lady Light.

Probably not dead then, Hump thought.

“Where am I?” Hump tried to ask, but a fit of coughs took him. He heaved, gasping for breath, his lungs burning like fire.

“Breathe slowly and try to relax,” she said. “You took in a lot of smoke and it will be a while yet before you’re back to normal.

Hump fought to bring his breathing back under control, grimacing from the pain as he tried to take in slow, deep breaths. His throat was as dry as a desert. His lungs felt full of fluid. The woman brought him a glass of water and he drank it greedily, the cool liquid tasting like the elixir of life itself.

“You’re back at the encampment, in the field hospital,” she said as he drank. “I’m Luna, a priestess of Lady Light.”

Hump finished his drink and rested the glass beside him on his bed. His body ached all over and there was a painful chill deep in his core. His hands itched like hellfire. They were covered in bandages that wrapped around his arm all the way up to the elbow. It was never a good sign when the Lady Light’s followers left you in bandages. It meant their magic wasn’t enough to heal the wound.

“How bad is it?” Hump asked, throat scratching from the words.

“It was a little touch and go when you first arrived,” Luna said. “But you’re over the worst of it now. You used far more essence than your soul was capable of. It sapped your body of its heat and the cold almost killed you. Fortunately, your party got you here soon enough. You were badly burned on your hands, face, and neck—our magic was able to heal most of the damage—don’t be surprised if there’s a little soreness for the next week or two though. We work magic, not miracles. Not without Priestess Alerai to help at least. Fortunately, there shouldn’t be any long-term physical damage.”

“That’s great news,” Hump said, trying to sound positive, but she looked at him as if there was more to say. “What is it?”

Luna sighed. “It is good. However, we were unable to do anything to help your soul. Something… something has damaged it. Whatever it is, we couldn’t remove it. Perhaps one of the Chosen at the Lady’s Cathedral might be able to help you. Unfortunately, Priestess Alerai was the only one here capable of such power. Without her, we can’t even diagnose the issue.”

Probably the dragon soul that almost ate me, Hump thought, though he decided to keep that to himself.

“But I’m fine, right?” Hump said instead. “I’m awake. I don’t feel like anything is off by too much.”

“There’s no way we can be sure, but I can tell you your body is healing. Whether the damage has any other effects, only time will tell.”

“Fingers crossed then,” Hump said glumly. “At least it’s something to look forward to.”

With all that had happened, a little soul damage seemed like as good as he could have asked for. Things could have been far worse. He knew it would happen. Humans couldn’t absorb the power of a heartstone for a reason, and now he’d have to pay the price.

His heart lurched at the thought of the dragon. Where was his egg? He could sense it like a second heartbeat, but he couldn’t figure out its location.

He searched around his bed frantically, looking beneath his blankets, and around the roof. He propped himself up, heart pounding in his ears. The glass fell from his bed and smashed on the floor. And then his eyes settled on a padded basket on a small table beside his bed, the dragon egg safely inside.

It was still with him. He slumped back into his bed, relieved.

Luna watched him with worried eyes, taken aback by his franticness.

“Sorry,” Hump said. He looked at the smashed glass. “Just a little panicked.”

“That’s okay.” She leant in closer, her cheeks rosy. “They say you killed a dragon,” she whispered. “Is it true?”

“I suppose you could put it like that,” Hump said, though he hardly felt happy about it.

“That’s amazing!” she said. “I’ve never met a dragon slayer before. You’re—”

She cut herself off as footsteps sounded outside. A moment later an armoured man with a spear pushed through the tent flap. “Is everything okay?” he asked, looking between them.

“Just an accident,” Luna smiled at him. “A bit of fright after waking up, nothing to worry about. It was only a glass.”

The guard nodded, gave Hump a suspicious look, then stepped outside again.

Hump frowned. That was odd. “Do you have a lot of trouble with broken glass?”

Luna gave him a curt smile. “You’re under guard.”

“Why?” Hump asked. “The fight’s over.”

“He’s not here to protect you,” Luna said.

Hump blinked.

“You possessed an unbound adventurer’s medallion,” she continued. “We’re forbidden to let you leave.”

“It was my master’s!” Hump snapped. He searched for it around his neck and found the chain missing. “Where is it?”

“I… I don’t know. They took it away.”

“Damn it,” Hump cursed, throwing off his covers and forcing himself out of bed. “Then I’m going to go get it back.” Most of his chest was covered in bandages, and he’d been dressed in loose white trousers. His robes were hung up nearby, cleaned, and dry. His staff rested against the wall, and his spellbook rested on a table beside it.

Luna jumped back, startled. “Wizard Hump, you need to stop and slow down. Please, you’re going to hurt yourself. I’m sure you will have your chance to explain. For now, you need your rest.”

Hump winced as pain budded across his chest and arms. He staggered, catching himself on the bed and gasping.

She pressed her hand against his chest and whispered a prayer. Gold light shone from her hand. Hump felt the same warmth as when Alerai had granted them her blessing. It eased his pain, and he felt a calmness take over him. “Sit back down,” she said softly. “I won’t have you tear open your wounds and ruin all my hard work.”

Hump glowered at her. She was only an inch or so taller than him, so it felt far more effective than when he’d tried it on Celaine.

“You look at me like that and I might just ruin them myself,” she snapped. “Overseer Oswald is a fair man, and sought me out personally to ask about your treatment. You will have your chance to explain, I am certain of it.”

She had a stern, unwavering look in her eyes, and Hump knew she was telling the truth. He sighed and lay back down.

“Are you Chosen?” he asked. “I feel a lot better after whatever it was you just did.”

“I’m a Chosen of the second circle,” she said. “That was just a simple healing prayer.”

Hump raised an eyebrow. “That’s a useful prayer. Mine don’t normally work.”

She gave him a disapproving look. “You’re welcome. Now, I have other patients to see to. There’s a bell beside you. Ring that or call if you need anything. A nurse will see to you. And that guard will be in here with you too. It took my best smile to convince him to leave even when you were unconscious.”

“Brilliant,” Hump grumbled.

“You should count yourself lucky, Dragon Slayer,” she said playfully. “Most patients don’t get a private tent.”

Hump snorted. “I suppose that’s something.” He paused. “Before you leave, have you heard from the rest of my party?”

“They are all well. A bit beaten up, and the knight fractured a shoulder, but you will all be fine. I’ll pass on a message that they can visit if you’d like.”

Hump nodded. “That would be great.”

“Anything else?”

He glanced at his spellbook. “Please, could you pass me my book?”

She walked over to it and handed it to him. “I’ll have food brought to you. Try and eat, even if you have no appetite.”

“Thank you.”

Once she was gone, the guard came inside and sat by the exit. Hump tried to relax. He might have a private tent, but there was no privacy with an angry man watching him.

He sat himself up and took the egg from its basket, resting it on his lap. He could sense the life within it—the soul—bubbling with warmth, hot to the touch. The scales were smooth and sharp at the edges and marked with red lines that appeared like cracks of molten stone. Holding it made the chill in his core feel a little more distant.

Just you and me now, buddy, he thought. I’m nowhere near as cool as your mum, but I hope I’ll do. He smiled weakly to himself as he rested the egg in his elbow.

First things first, he thought. He closed his eyes, envisioning the River and Waves as he so often had in the past when he was sick or injured. What he found now was… well, he could visualise his essence. This was no simple visualisation technique, the river was real. And the priestess hadn’t been kidding about there being something wrong, though Hump wouldn’t exactly call it damage. His essence channels had grown. He was still recovering his essence, but already his body held more of it than before. He was overflowing with it. Perhaps more than just a little of the dragon’s soul had rubbed off on him after all.

He’d given in to his emotions, and he’d absorbed at least part of a heartstone. Did that technically make him a warlock? He expected the church would see it that way, and they’d kill him for it. The Wizard Society wouldn’t help him with that either. If anything, they’d just try to take his egg.

Oh well, he thought. Just one more secret to keep now.

He opened his spellbook. The Book of Infinite Pages. The legacy of his master and those who came before him.

Words began to take form on the pages. Essence moved in inky patterns as the spell formations came to life beneath them. Much had changed.

SPELLBOOK

Shape Shield

Warding | Battle Magic | Tier 2 | Range: Short

Description

Gather essence to your will and form a solid wall of essence, blocking physical and elemental attacks. Manipulate the essence around you and form the wall into the desired shape.

Origin Spells

Shield

Notes

y.615 – Ivish – It takes great control to bend such a dense amount of essence around the body. Always remember that while a larger surface will protect you from more directions, if you do not distribute your essence skilfully, it may be broken. Experiment with different shapes. Structure matters.

Fantastic, Hump thought, running a finger along the lines of the formation. He was sure he could have replicated the spell eventually, but it was like cooking without a recipe. The dish would never be quite the same. With the spell formation and method of essence circulation on paper, it made things ten times easier. He had something to work from. A foundation to make the spell work for him.

He’d seen his master use Shape Shield often and knew just how effective it could be. In the past, Hump lacked the control to use it himself. Any attempts ended in the collapse of his spell. He supposed that was no longer the case.

He would need to experiment. Shaping spells like this always varied a little from user to user. Nobody’s channels were the same, and where one wizard might favour raw power, another might meticulously structure their Shield to be as efficient as possible, or produce lines of reinforcement to make it stronger. Finding his method would take some time, but with the spell formation it would make doing so twice as simple.

As exciting as it was, it hardly compared with the second page.

SPELLBOOK

Fire Ray

Evocation | Battle Magic | Tier 3 | Long Range

Description

Gather and condense arcane essence, imbuing it with fire and focusing it into a beam that burns through everything in its path.

Origin Spells

Essence Blast

Focused Blast

Notes

y.682 – Ajax – Casting the spell does not mean fire isn’t hot. Lesson learnt. Ouch.

y.817 – Lector – Tested the theory and it’s true! Fire is indeed hot. Ouch.

y.914 – Sethril – By forming a thin shield over the surface of the hand, one can protect it from the heat of the flame.

It was official. He was no longer a First Rank Wizard. Tier 3 battle magic immediately qualified him for Second Rank, whether he was officially registered with the Wizard Society or simply a hedge wizard. Nobody could deny it now.

His master would be turning in his grave if he realised Hump had done so with a fire spell. It had never been his strong point. If anything, his affinity with fire was weaker than anything else. Spark was a necessity for any young wizard, especially when they were expected to make the campfire every night until they mastered it.

Not that it would be easy to use. He was confident he could infuse Essence Blast with fire. By now, the spell was all but second nature. Adding fire essence to the mix would likely make it more volatile, so he would need to start slowly. Better for a quick attack, but he wouldn’t be able to condense as much essence into the spell. Which was where the problem with Focused Blast lay. Dense essence and volatility were an excellent combination when it came to exploding in one’s face, as Hump’s predecessors so kindly noted.

He would need to start small and follow his master’s advice.

He turned the page again and broke out into a grin.

SPELLBOOK

Molten Stone

Alteration/Evocation | Battle Magic | Tier 4 | Range: Medium

Description

Combine the power of stone and fire to heat stone to its melting point and produce a devastating projectile.

Origin Spells

Transform Earth

Essence Blast

Rockshot

There were no notes for his last spell and Hump wasn’t sure what that meant. Perhaps his spellbook wasn’t quite as complete as he’d expected.

But it did nothing to stop his excitement. Tier 4. That was… Well, if he could master it, he would be one of very few hedge wizards in the kingdom with such power. Though looking at the method of essence circulation, Hump didn’t think it was possible for him to cast the spell yet. He must have done so accidentally when he heated up his Rockshot enough to melt the stone in the dungeon chamber. Which meant he’d need another dragon’s load of essence if he were to reproduce it.

A problem for future Hump. Even if Molten Stone was beyond him for now, it was something to work toward. His strength was incomparable to before. He was a Second Rank Wizard, and that was something to be proud of.

He closed his book and lay back, staring at the far wall of the tent, waiting for that fact to sink in. There was a lot to do. He’d need to start working on his fire magic again, and his dual casting, if he were to maintain a Shield while casting. Neither of which he could do until he was out of this damn place and away from the watchful eye of his guard.

For now, he turned his focus inward, cycling his essence and doing what he could to speed up his recovery. As he did, he felt a new warmth flow into him from the egg, soothing his channels and filling them with its power.

Look at that! he thought to his egg. You’re doing great already.

FORTY-FIVE

DECISIONS FOR THE FUTURE

Hump awoke to chatter outside his tent. His guard was gone, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of familiar voices. Bud, Celaine, and Vamir had come to visit. He sat up and leant against the bedrest, putting his egg back into its basket. A minute later, his party entered. The three of them were out of their armour and in ordinary clothes. It was a bit odd seeing them like that after having grown used to seeing them ready for battle.

“You’re looking better,” Bud said, grinning. “You were turning blue when we brought you back here.”

Bud’s left arm was in a sling. He wore a pale blue tunic over dark trousers, and a leather belt around his waist. If not for the size of him he’d have looked like a merchant’s son or some minor noble. But only a trained warrior could have a build like his. Even here, he wore his sword at his hip.

Hump grinned back. “I’m feeling better. The priestess told me things had been close. How’s the arm?”

Bud shrugged. “Fractured but they fixed it up. There’s no pain anymore, except apparently I need to keep it still for a week while the magic does its thing.”

“That’s healing magic for you,” Hump said. “It can hold a break in place and mend much of the damage, but mostly relies on the body’s own ability to actually stitch itself back together.”

Bud waved a dismissive hand toward him. “They gave me the same breakdown. A bunch of fuss over nothing if you ask me. I can’t feel anything wrong with it.”

“That’s the point,” Celaine said, a tight smile on her lips. “Push it and you’ll definitely feel it.”

Hump laughed. “I take it you’ve had this conversation already.”

“Multiple times a day,” Celaine said. “He’s like a giant, overgrown baby.”

“How about you, Celaine?” Hump said, smiling. “I take it your lack of crutches means your leg is fine.”

“Just a nasty bruise. I’m all healed up now.”

“Good,” Hump said. She wore a forest green shirt and brown trousers. He frowned when he noticed Kassius’ dagger on her hip, the silver hilt and blood-red heartstones too distinct to miss. “Are you sure that’s safe?” he asked, nodding toward it.

“It’s as safe as any other unidentified magical artifact,” Vamir said with a shrug. “We’ll need an appraiser to find out exactly what it is. Best we don’t use one at the encampment, so we’ll find one when we reach the next town. Until then, she’s not to use it.”

Celaine drew it from its sheath, holding up the fine curved blade for all to see. “‘A knife is only a tool,’” Celaine said, doing her best imitation of Vamir. “‘It is the wielder that decides its purpose.’”

“I do not sound like that,” Vamir said.

Celaine snorted and turned back to Hump. “I thought I’d get you to have a look at it with your Magic Eye spell anyway, when you’re feeling up for it, just to be safe. At least for now it’s not done anything strange.”

“Just don’t let it near any blood,” Hump said, recalling the feeling from the knife when he’d stabbed the black paladin. The hunger that stemmed from it, and the sensation of warmth that washed over him afterward. “At the very least, it must be able to somehow turn blood into essence.”

She nodded, sheathing the blade. “I shall try to resist stabbing anyone.”

Hump smiled. “Probably a good idea. At least until it’s properly identified, after that, you can stab away!”

“Perfect. I’ll see if I can resist the urge till then.”

Hump snorted. “How did everything else turn out in the end?”

“As well as can be hoped,” Bud said. “Four dungeoneers died in the core room, alongside Alerai and another Chosen. Another two were so badly injured they still haven’t woken up. They lost six more during the front line attack.”

“Gods,” Hump said. “The guild won’t be happy. I don’t remember ever seeing so many losses on such a low tier dungeon.”

“It was hardly low tier, was it?” Celaine said. “Surely they’ll re-evaluate it now that they know there was an undead wolf dragon and a necromancer inside.”

“Probably. What about the villagers?”

Bud smiled softly. “All but four.”

Hump returned his own sad smile. “That’s more than I thought.”

“The gods were with us that day,” Bud said. “After you and Celaine went down the hole, Vamir and I were able to hold the tunnel while the villagers ran. Gerard and his men came for us as soon as the villagers reached them. We were preparing to search for you when the reinforcements arrived from the front line.”

“Meera reached Oswald for us as promised,” Vamir said. “Once the Overseer heard Prince Kassius was trapped in the dungeon, he dispatched those he could spare immediately.”

“He must have been over the moon to learn Kassius was behind this,” Hump said dryly.

Bud and Celaine shared an awkward look.

“What?” Hump asked.

“It’s been swept under the rug,” Bud growled. “All the terror he caused. All the death. Nobody will know.”

“Officially, he died fighting the dragon,” Celaine said.

“He died a hero,” Bud spat. “It isn’t right.”

Covering up the atrocities of the rich and powerful was no new concept to Hump.

“It’s for the best,” Hump said after a moment’s consideration. “Necromancer or not, the king probably wouldn’t be too happy with me if stories got out that I killed his nephew. And the duke certainly wouldn’t let it slide, even if his son was a warlock. I don’t need that kind of attention.”

“But he’s a murderer!” Bud said. “A heretic. One step away from a monster. He shouldn’t be remembered as a hero when he was the cause of everyone’s plight in the first place.”

“The world isn’t fair,” Hump said, a little more harshly than he’d meant to. “It’s only a fairy tale because they hide the truth from all that haven’t experienced it themselves. You wanted a heroic adventure. This is as close as it gets. You rescued the villagers, defeated the undead dragon, thwarted the warlock’s evil plan. Only when they tell the story, it will be Prince Kassius that saved the day, sacrificing his life in the process. His loyal Chosen fighting alongside him.”

Bud clenched his fist. “How can you accept that?”

“The gods never favoured me,” Hump said. “It was nice to fall into the hero’s tale for a while—to help people—but I’m not Chosen. People don’t want to hear stories of wizards. They want stories of princes and Chosen fighting alongside the gods. That’s the tale the bards will tell.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Bud asked.

Hump scoffed. “How many hedge wizards walk away from a dungeon with a dragon egg? I’m not exactly hard done by.”

Bud paused, then nodded. “Good point.”

Hump took a nervous breath, remembering the presence of the shadowy figure that had come for Kassius’ body. The moment time froze and the entire world seemed drained of life.

“I need to ask you all something,” Hump said. “This may sound strange, but there was someone else down there. In the final moments, before I passed out, time seemed to stop. A shadowy figure stepped out from a tear in the world. Did any of you…” he trailed off when he saw Vamir’s frown. “You didn’t see them?”

“You’re sure you saw someone?” Vamir asked. “You mentioned a figure before you passed out. I asked around, but not even Lantheer detected the presence of magic that powerful.”

Hump frowned. There was no way he could have imagined it. “He was there. He took Kassius. Gods, I don’t even think Kassius is dead.”

“What?” Bud snapped. “How could that be possible?”

“His heart was still beating,” Hump said. “Even covered in burns, his heartstone was healing him. And whatever… whoever it was that took his body had the power to stop time. I can’t imagine healing Kassius would be much of a problem.”

“But we were right next to you.” Bud frowned. “We would have seen something like that. You were injured, Hump, and exhausted. You were probably seeing things.”

“Was there any sign of his body?” Hump asked.

Silence.

Vamir sighed. “No. He was gone. As if burnt to smithereens.”

“There was no way I could have burnt through his armour,” Hump said. “It was enchanted. There would have been something left behind.”

“Kelisia’s mercy,” Bud said, leaning forward in his chair and putting his face in his hand. “Let’s say for a moment that this is true. Why was Hump the only one who saw it?”

“I’m a wizard,” Hump said. “Kassius said we were more attuned to essence than most Chosen. Maybe that was it?” Even as he said the words, he didn’t believe them. He might have been better at sensing essence than Bud, but Lantheer was a third circle Chosen. He would surely be more skilled.

“Or the power of the wolf dragon,” Celaine suggested.

“Maybe,” Hump said doubtfully. There were two other reasons that sounded more plausible to him though. The first was his spellbook, but so far it had never given him any sort of sight magic or immunity to powers. It seemed unlikely. Alternatively, he could only think of the imprint the wolf dragon left on his soul. Death magic affected the soul, and perhaps Hump’s soul was no longer complete. Then again, he had no evidence that the shadowy figure used death magic at all.

“We need to tell Overseer Oswald,” Bud said. “If he’s still alive, the kingdom needs to know. They need to be ready. I’ll have him pass the news back to my father, he will be able to make sure this gets to the right people.”

“Agreed,” Hump said.

He tried to piece together what he knew, but there were so many unknowns. Kassius had made his path clear. He wanted to be a god, and he was willing to sacrifice anything and everything in order to make it happen. What if that figure he’d seen was just a person? Someone walking the same path as Kassius, perhaps a member of the order he’d spoken of. How many souls would he have had to consume to reach such strength?

“Oswald has sworn us all to secrecy on the whole thing,” Celaine said. “He wants to speak to you too, once you’re ready.”

“As soon as they let me leave,” Hump said. “The bastard stole my medallion!”

“Why would he take your medallion?” Celaine asked.

“I’m about to find out.”

She narrowed her eyes, appearing confused. “Anyway, it’s not all bad. The dungeon core has been claimed by the Adventurer’s Guild and the prize will be divvied up amongst all parties involved. Vamir has your share.”

Hump grinned. “Now that’s news that I like.” He lifted the basket from the table beside his bed and placed it on his lap. The egg pulsed with warmth, like a second heart. “Thanks for keeping your word. I… I don’t know how to explain it, but this egg—the dragon inside it—feels like an extension of myself. I’m not sure I could let it go.”

“There’s a reason we’d have to kill you to break the bond,” Vamir said.

Celaine gave Vamir a sharp glare. “After all that happened, it was fated for it to choose you. You gave its mother the chance for her vengeance. You avenged them both. This is how it should be.”

“I hope you’re right, but I’ve never been much of a believer in fate,” Hump said. “I’m willing to overlook that though as I really don’t want to be hunted down and killed by a bunch of dragon people.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Celaine said seriously. She plumped a large leather pouch onto his lap, with a shoulder strap. “I got this for you.”

Hump looked at it with a raised eyebrow. “Is this a standard issue egg pouch from the dragon people? Will they leave me alone now?”

Celaine rolled her eyes. “I got it at the field tent. It’s meant for horse feed, but it will have to do. It’s a thank you for not ditching me when you could have. I shouldn’t have charged in like a reckless idiot.”

Hump stared at her, mouth open.

“What?” She frowned. She looked at the pouch. “Is there something wrong with it?”

“I just didn’t know you could admit to being wrong.”

“I’ve never been so proud!” Vamir said. He had a massive grin on his face.

“Well now you do,” she growled, ignoring Vamir. “Happy?”

“Hard to say,” Hump said, stroking his chin and resisting the urge to smile. “What do you think, Bud? Do you prefer her being obnoxious or nice?”

Bud shook his head and held his uninjured hand up in surrender. “You’re on your own for this one, my friend. I’ve already got one arm in a sling.”

“You are such an arse!” Celaine snapped at Hump, slapping his leg through the blanket.

Hump laughed. “I’m kidding! Thank you for this, I really didn’t want to be lugging around a basket from now on.” He took a nervous breath and glanced at Vamir. “What happens now?”

Vamir sighed. “I’ll be blunt. Your bond with the egg makes my job difficult. We were here to find the missing wolf dragon. It would have been wonderful if she were still alive, but we had suspicions when the pack returned without her. In the worst-case scenario, we were to bring back her heartstone so she could be entombed beneath Owalyn’s shrine. Obviously, even that is impossible now.”

“That wasn’t Hump’s fault,” Celaine interrupted. “He did what he had to, and he saved the egg. She would have wanted that.”

Vamir smiled softly. “Of course. Nobody will dispute that. But now that we know the egg exists, we need to take it back to where it belongs. To its pack. To the people that know how to care for it.”

“And if I say no?” Hump asked.

“You and the egg are soulbound,” Vamir said calmly. “That is fact. Where the egg goes, you go. I’m inclined to take you back with us.”

“No,” Celaine snapped. “This isn’t what we discussed. I see where this is going, and you can’t.”

“I said I’d help him, Celaine, and this is the only way I can,” Vamir said. “We can’t leave some kid hedge wizard with a dragon egg. If he’s lucky, only the egg will die. If he’s unlucky, he’ll be killed for it, and then gods know where it will end up.”

“It’s okay,” Hump said. “I don’t mind going with you.”

“You don’t understand,” Celaine said. “They’ll kill you.”

Hump frowned. “Okay. Let me rescind my previous statement. I do mind going with you.”

“Why would they kill him?” Bud asked. “As you said, Hump saved the egg. Surely he’s earned the right to keep it. They can’t just murder someone because they don’t like them.”

“He’s an outsider,” Celaine said. “They might not kill him outright, but they will make him prove himself. He would be forced to take the Dragon Keeper trials.”

“And these trials are dangerous?” Bud asked.

“He wouldn’t pass the first one,” Vamir said. “Celaine has yet to take it. I barely scraped through the second and have yet to challenge the final one.”

“Oh,” Hump said. “This is sounding more and more like a terrible option.”

“If I argue your case, I think I could buy you some time,” Vamir said.

“How much?” Hump asked.

“A year. If you’re lucky.”

Hump would have laughed if it wasn’t so terrifying. “What good would a year do me? I’d be better off running and hiding. It’s a big world, and hedge wizards have a habit of never being in one place for long. I’m a hard man to find.”

Vamir shook his head. “I don’t recommend trying to run from Chosen of the Goddess of the Hunt. Especially when they ride dragons. And you don’t know the first thing about caring for a dragon egg. Let alone what to do when it hatches.”

“Then tell me,” Hump said. “Or I’ll figure it out on my own. I won’t walk to my death.”

Vamir rubbed a hand over his face. “There’s no simple guide for this. Wolf dragons may only be lesser dragons, but they are dangerous. They require a firm hand and training. Wolf dragons are particularly social creatures too. Their minds are constantly linked with one another, sharing emotions and thoughts. That link begins in the egg. Without its pack, it’s your responsibility to fulfil that role.”

“What if I stay with him,” Celaine said abruptly. “I know how to care for the egg, and the hatchling, when it hatches. Once it’s old enough to defend itself they wouldn’t dare to move against Hump.”

“You know the rules, Celaine,” Vamir growled. “You could be outcast for this.”

“Then go back and make sure I’m not,” Celaine said. “I’m not a child, and neither am I an idiot. I know the risk of staying, but I know for certain Hump won’t survive if he is forced to face the trials. So do you, Vamir.”

“It’s likely.” Vamir sighed. “If you’re willing to stay, I could justify leaving the egg behind.”

“I’m willing,” she said without hesitation.

“Excellent,” Bud said cheerfully. “The three of us make a good team. It would have been a shame to go our separate ways so early.”

Hump raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Bud smiled. “I won’t abandon a friend in need. You have my sword.”

Hump didn’t know what to say. For so long it had been just him and his master. They’d had the occasional companion and party, but it was never someone they could trust completely. Everyone had an agenda. This was different. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Thank you. Thank you both. I… I’m not sure what I would have done without you.”

They both smiled at him.

“This is what you want to do then?” Vamir asked Hump.

Hump thought for a moment, but the decision seemed simple. “If Celaine and Bud are alright with it, sure. I don’t exactly have much choice, do I. Will this stop them coming after me?”

“Oh, they’ll come,” Vamir said. “But I can buy you some time. It’s a long way home and nobody will know if I accidentally take a few detours along the way. Eventually, they will want their dragon back. You won’t be able to run forever. Whether my people come for you, the pack, or Owalyn herself, eventually you will need to deal with this.”

“I’m screwed either way, aren’t I?” Hump grumbled.

“Not necessarily,” Vamir said. “Become strong enough to face the trials. When the time comes, don’t run. Face them, and prove you are worthy. If you can earn the title, it won’t matter that you’re an outsider. A Dragon Keeper is a Dragon Keeper.”

“I understand,” Hump said. He frowned, searching for the words to broach the subject. In the end, he decided to be blunt as well. “So… About my pay?”

Vamir looked at him hopelessly.

Hump grinned.

FORTY-SIX

OVERSEER

Seven bright and shining gold coins—more money than Hump had ever had. They glistened in his hand like suns, and he stared at them gleefully. Was it worth almost dying? Yes. Absolutely. Not that it would last long. He’d need to replace much of his equipment, of course. Wizardfire alone would cost almost a third of that, and then there were a few other useful bits he’d rather not do without: his Essence Elixirs, the healing supplies he hadn’t been able to replace since his master’s passing, and of course, food. This was enough money for him to splurge.

When he looked up, Celaine was staring at him as if he were a creep.

“What?” Hump asked.

“You’re drooling,” she said, scrunching her nose.

Hump wiped his mouth with his sleeve and coughed, his face feeling flushed. “I was thinking about food.”

Bud laughed. “What’s the plan after this? Hump needs to prepare himself for these trials, but how should he do that?”

“Continue as you have,” Vamir said. “The three of you are in the prime of your growth. These are the years you will improve fastest.”

“That’s hardly going to be enough to face the trials anytime soon,” Celaine said. “He needs training. He needs a teacher.”

“I actually had some ideas about that,” Hump said. “A close friend of my master’s used to party up with us on occasion. A wizard called Vivienne—she specialises in magical theory. Last I heard, she set up a laboratory at a place called Fishers Lake.”

“You think she’d take you in?” Vamir asked.

Hump nodded. “I think she’d pay me to stay once she realises I have a dragon egg. It’s been almost a year since my master last heard from her, but I think there’s a reasonable chance she’s still there.”

“Do you trust her?” Vamir asked.

“Yes,” Hump said. “And she’s the only wizard I know that might be willing to train me.”

“What do we do if she’s not there?” Celaine asked. “A year is a long time for somebody’s plans to change.”

“It’s only about two weeks from here if we travelled at full speed.” Hump shrugged. “We can take a few quests along the way to make the trip worth our while and be there in a month. If she’s not there, perhaps the town’s folk will know where she went, if they don’t, it would be a good chance to practice anyway. I have my spellbook, and I’ve learned several new spells since coming here.”

“It’s a start,” Vamir said. “There’s these as well.” He pulled two tightly bound rolls of parchment from his inner pocket and passed them over.

Hump took them. One was perfectly white, the other had a silver finish to it. Hump opened them and his eyes went wide. They were party invitations to the White Peaks and Silver Spears. All they had to do was present the invitation at one of their guild halls and they would be welcomed. It wasn’t the riches Kassius had promised, but joining either guild would lead to a respectable career.

“This is perfect,” Hump said. “We won’t need to worry about resources for sure, or money, or finding a place to sleep at night. We’d have to work for it, but they’d train us.”

“Don’t get too excited,” Vamir said. “At the end of the day, guilds are profit-based organisations. Your dragon egg already puts a target on your back and joining either one of these would put you out into the open for all to see. None of you are strong enough to risk that yet.”

“Then why did you give them to us?” Celaine asked.

“It’s not ideal, but if you cannot find this wizard, either of these guilds will have the resources you all need to grow. Though before you join, I suggest both you and Bud reach your third circle.”

“And I should be able to qualify as a Rank 3 Wizard, given enough time,” Hump said. “I have a Tier 4 battle magic spell in my book.”

Vamir grinned, his seriousness gone. “Not a bad plan at all if I do say so myself! Now you three just need to avoid screwing it up. Do you think you can manage that without me around?”

All three of them laughed.

They chatted with Hump a while longer. Not about anything important, but it was nice to be caught up on everything he missed. Three days had passed since the battle in the dungeon’s depths. With the dungeon core claimed, what remained of the kobold forces were in disarray.

Tunnels had been discovered on the far side of the kobold village, leading out into the mountains that surrounded the crag. It was how the kobolds managed to raid the village of Hursdale and capture its people without anyone in the encampment noticing. A number of small guilds and individual parties were still inside, doing what they could to remove the kobold infestation, but that would take time. Many would escape into the local forests and mountains.

While the king’s bounty might have been completed, Hump suspected the Mountain Road would be plagued by kobolds and other monsters for a while to come. At least with the dungeon core gone, the kobolds no longer had a shelter or any boons, and other creatures wouldn’t be drawn to the presence of its domain. It was a victory, but a costly one, nonetheless.

When they left, Hump asked his ever-present guard to pass on a message to Oswald. He was ready to speak to him now.

The guard seemed suspicious, though Hump had grown used to that. Six had shared the duty, none of them conversational, and all of them acting as if he’d committed treason of the highest regard.

“It’s not like I could run very far in the two minutes you’re gone,” Hump snapped.

The guard nodded. “Stay here. Don’t run anywhere.”

Hump rolled his eyes. “I got it.” Once the man was gone, he turned his attention to something else. Since he’d woken up, he’d not been left alone for a moment. Either a healer, nurse, or the guard was always supervising him. There was something he’d been itching to test.

He focused on the unlit, half-melted candle on the guard’s table. Gathering his essence, Hump willed a small strand of it toward the wick. He felt the air warm ever so slightly against his skin.

“Spark.”

Essence surged.

The candle erupted in a pillar of flame that nearly reached the top of the tent. For a moment, Hump just stared at it in shock, then common sense caught up to him. He rushed out of bed, grabbed his glass of water, and doused the candle. He let out a breath and staggered back, sitting on his bed.

“Huh,” he said out loud. He scratched his forehead and frowned.

Gods. He’d hardly used any essence. He hadn’t even used his staff. He’d felt fire essence calling to him when practicing River and Waves, and this confirmed his suspicions. His affinity with fire hadn’t just improved; it might be even stronger than earth affinity. Everything about it seemed easier. He’d hardly sensed a hint of cold from a spell that would have previously sent a chill through his body. There was no way the egg alone could have done that, which left only one possibility. The imprint of its mother on his soul might have had more serious effects than he’d first thought.

Boots thumped outside and a moment later the guard was in the entryway, frowning down at the table and the now soaking wet candle.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Hump said. “I was just…” He sighed. “Okay, this is exactly what it looks like. I almost burnt down the tent lighting the candle.”

The guard sighed. “Doesn’t matter. Oswald asked me to bring you to him.”

Hump put on his freshly cleaned wizard’s robes. He was sick and tired of his tent, and had no intention of returning to it, so he packed up all the gear he had. Most of it fit in the leather pouch Celaine had bought him, which he wore over his shoulder, securing his dragon egg in place inside by padding it out with his potion pouch. Then he tied his spellbook to his belt and took up his staff.

It was late afternoon, and the sun was setting over the encampment. Hump breathed in the cool, refreshing air and looked across what remained. There were half as many tents as before. Most dungeoneers didn’t stick around long once a dungeon was cleared. There was little money in hunting down straggling kobolds, so that would be left to the weaker dungeoneers looking to scrounge up whatever coin they could now that the larger guilds were leaving for better paying work.

When they arrived at Oswald’s tent, Hump took a moment to straighten out his gear and calm himself down. Something had been stolen from him, but he wouldn’t get it back by losing his temper. He needed to approach this logically. Once he was ready, he willed a sliver of essence into his staff; just enough to make the runes shine with the faintest glimmer and make the core of his crystal focus shine with blue light. He was a wizard after all, he had to look at least a little impressive.

Overseer Oswald was on his own inside, looking over a map of the surrounding region. He turned around and nodded toward the guard. “Thank you, Darrel. You can leave Wizard Hump with me.”

“I’ll be outside, sir,” the guard said, giving a quick bow then ducking out of the tent.

“It’s good to see you up and well, Wizard Hump,” Oswald said. “You had us worried for a while there.”

“So worried you assigned me a constant guard?” Hump asked.

Oswald barked a laugh, but there was no humour in his eyes. “Is that how you typically greet your superiors?”

Hump gulped and cleared his throat. So much for logic.

Even after all that happened, he couldn’t help but be intimidated by the man’s presence—the jagged white scar over his eye didn’t help—but he met Oswald’s gaze and refused to back down.

“Erm… No, sir. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.”

Oswald nodded, dismissing the matter. “You’ll have to forgive me for the guard. Once news of you and your dragon egg spread around camp, I decided it best to assign someone to keep hungry eyes away.”

“I have to admit,” Hump said, “I was rather surprised to wake up and find myself confined to my tent and my medallion confiscated.”

“And is it your medallion?” Oswald asked.

“It was my master’s,” Hump growled. “Now it belongs to me. I’d have had it rebound already if the woman at the Bledsbury guildhall wasn’t so ridiculously unhelpful.”

“The young lord Robert explained your situation well to me,” Oswald said. “You can relax. I believe you.”

“Then why did you take it?” Hump asked. This wasn’t going as he expected. He’d been prepared to argue and demand his medallion back. He even planned to use the information about Kassius to get it if he had to.

“One of the unfortunate parts of being in my position is the need to apply the rules to everyone equally. You were found to be in possession of an Adventurer’s Guild medallion belonging to a dead man.”

Oswald reached into his pocket and pulled out the medallion, holding it by the chain, letting it twirl before his eyes. “I knew him, you know? Not very well, mind you. I met him once, at a dungeon beyond the border regions. At the time I was just a party leader.”

Hump narrowed his eyes. “Funny. He never mentioned meeting you, and believe me, I’d have known. He used to lecture me for hours on all the figureheads I might meet out in the field. The old man wasn’t one to forget something like that.”

Oswald smiled.

Hump frowned. “You’re testing me.” It wasn’t a question, and it took more than a little effort to keep the spite from his voice. He’d had enough of being tested for one week.

“Yes,” Oswald said. “And you passed. I never met your master.” He put the medallion on the table and slid it toward Hump. “Take it.”

Hump grabbed it, feeling reassured by the familiar cold bite in his hand. He hung it around his neck, keeping it on the layer above his undershirt to stop the cold from touching his skin. Then he frowned at Oswald. “It wasn’t much of a test.”

“You have good friends, Wizard Hump. With so many Chosen vouching for your character, there was little testing left to be done. I suspect you know why I have called you here?”

Hump nodded. “As far as the stories are concerned, Kassius died a hero. We’re to keep what really happened secret.”

“Indeed. I’m sorry it must be this way, truly. I’m as furious about the injustice as you are, but the kingdom’s interests must be protected. Elenvine cannot have tales of a necromancer prince.”

“I understand,” Hump said. He paused, torn between saying more or not. In the end, he decided to trust Oswald. “I have some more information that I think may interest you.”

Oswald raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

Hump told him of Kassius’ disappearance. Of the figure that tore a hole in the world and took his body back with him. Of the fact that Kassius wasn’t dead, and that Hump suspected he belonged to a group of warlocks that were seeking to ascend and become gods. Oswald listened silently but with every passing sentence his frown deepened.

“This is well above my position,” Oswald said. “Gods help us, if what you say is true.”

“You haven’t heard anything about this before?” Hump asked.

“An organised group of warlocks?” Oswald snorted. “No. Gods no. It’s grim news, Hump. And I’ll be sure to pass it up the ladder.”

Hump nodded. “What will happen if Kassius returns?”

Oswald paused. “Do you know how I reached my position?”

“Everyone knows you rose through the ranks in the military,” Hump said. “That you were a fine warrior and an even finer strategist.”

“The bards do like to spin their tales. In reality, the truth is a little more bland. I got here because I knew how to follow orders and I knew when to keep my mouth shut. Do yourself a favour and put all this behind you. It’s best to leave matters like this to those in command. Gods, I know I want no part in it.”

Obviously, the tales are exaggerated, Hump thought. He paused, considering what Oswald said. It was a sentiment that Hump could get behind.

“I understand,” Hump said. “My master used to say it was the curious side of me that would make me a good wizard. He also said it might just be the death of me. I have a feeling he’d have told me to do the same thing.”

Oswald smiled. “He sounds like a smart man.”

“He was,” Hump said.

“You should be proud of what you did here.” Oswald approached him as he spoke. “Of the people you helped to save. It was heroes’ work, lad. Rumours are already spreading around camp about the hedge wizard that defeated the dragon and claimed its egg. It was an impressive feat, especially for somebody your age.”

He extended his hand and Hump shook it. “Thank you, sir.”

“I’ve been posted to the Fallen Lands, following this,” Oswald said. “A promotion—would you believe it? As far from the capital as they could place me, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s even farther after I tell them this news. Be sure to find me if you ever venture out that far. Other than that, is there anything more I can do for you?”

Hump thought for a moment. Money wasn’t going to be an issue for a long while, but he had an idea that just made him grin. “Actually, there is one thing.”

Stepping out of the command tent, it was like a great weight had been lifted from Hump’s shoulders, and it wasn’t just the lack of guard. As he stood there, looking over what was left of the encampment, he noticed the sideways glances in his direction. The curious looks.

He tucked the item he’d asked for from Oswald into his pouch, alongside the invitations from the White Peaks and Silver Spears, held his chin up high, and made his way back to where he and his party had first set up their tents. They were to leave Bledsbury in the morning, but first, Hump intended to take full advantage of the vendors at the field station.

FORTY-SEVEN

DEPARTURE

Part of being a hedge wizard was making do with what supplies you could find locally and slowly building a collection. A place rarely had everything one needed, the field station was no exception.

Hump skipped the Essence Elixirs this time and purchased the ingredients to make them himself. He would have plenty of time on the journey to brew them and it was barely a fifth of the price. He picked up a couple of healing potions and readymade salves just in case, but only to cover him for emergencies until he could get his own supplies together. The field station had a few specialist ingredients that weren’t typically found in normal herbalists, the rest were too expensive to be worth it. He’d need to stock up again in Bledsbury now that he had some coin, and they’d pass through plenty of towns on the trip to Fishers Lake.

Prancer was restless after a week at the encampment, but the Adventurer’s Guild had fed him well and taken him out for a run each day. Hump bought him a bag of apples to last him and the other horses for a few days. ‘There are certain things a man never skimps on,’ the old man would say. ‘A thick wool cloak, leather boots, and horses. Take good care of them, and they’ll take good care of you.’

Hump said his goodbyes before leaving the encampment. Sanya and her northmen had already left the encampment, but he was able to find Gerard. They’d lost one of their own when they had gone to help Vamir and Bud—Shar. She’d died fighting.

“It’s the job,” Gerard said. “Don’t feel bad about it.”

Hump nodded, then immediately felt ashamed that he agreed so quickly. It was too easy to become desensitised to death when one saw it all the time. Shar died fighting for Hump’s party and for the villagers; her sacrifice deserved to be remembered. To have an impact.

“What will you do now?” Hump asked.

“Overseer Oswald’s hired us for the trip north,” he said. “The Fallen Lands.”

Hump wished him luck. They exchanged pleasantries, then shook hands and parted ways.

When Hump returned to his party, they were preparing to leave. Their party was one of six following a guide back to Bledsbury. They took a different path this time, something Hump was glad of. He didn’t want to see the scorched forest again now that he knew what it stood for. The memories the dragon had shown him were seared into him as if they were his own. It might have only been a vision, but it felt real.

“Do dragons eat horses?” Bud asked.

“Wolf dragons,” Celaine corrected. “Too many people refer to them as if they are just a single species, but what you’re doing is the same thing as calling a razorclaw a cat. It’s factually true, but you look stupid saying it.”

Hump laughed.

“Fine,” Bud said. “Do wolf dragons eat horses then?”

“What do you think?” Celaine asked. “They might be a lesser dragon, but they’re carnivores.”

“Poor Prancer,” Hump said, patting the horse’s neck. “I won’t let you be dragon food.”

“Wolf dragon food,” Bud interjected.

Hump smiled. “Oops. I won’t let you be wolf dragon food then. Other dragons though, nothing I can do about that.”

Prancer huffed and kicked at the ground. Hump chuckled again and sat back in his saddle, gazing up at the trees. The sun was out, the hills were warm and the forest full of life. It was a good day to be on the road. He remembered plummeting through a clear sky just like this. How small the trees had looked beneath him, like a field of broccoli. He craved for that thrill again. It called to him from the deepest part of himself, urging him to be out there and amongst the pack. To give into his instincts and hunt. He wondered if that was the imprint on his soul talking or himself.

They mostly stuck to themselves as they rode. At first, Hump enjoyed his small rise to fame. Everyone wanted to talk to him about the battle, about how he’d slain the dragon and claimed the egg before any Chosen could reach it. They asked about Prince Kassius and his valiant death, thanking the gods they’d had a chance to walk alongside such a hero. Each time, it got a little bit more aggravating, until eventually Hump stopped answering questions. Dragon Slayer, they called him. And he hated it.

It was an easy first day. They still had to be on guard for any monsters that might be roaming the area. While the dungeon core was gone and would no longer be drawing monsters to this place, those that had already arrived would be looking for food. But at least for Hump’s group, there was no sign of danger along the way.

When they set up camp for the night, Hump found a quiet moment alone with Bud and told him what Priestess Luna had said about the damage to his soul. He mentioned he was worried about the long-lasting effects of taking on the dragon’s soul, even for only a few moments.

It pained him to hide it from Celaine and Vamir, but they would know as clearly as he did what it meant. He was no longer whole. No longer fully human. If they found out, they might change their mind about letting him keep the egg, and that wasn’t something he was willing to risk, even if it did mean keeping it from them. He’d seen the look on Vamir’s face in the dungeon, the temptation to sever the bond and take the egg. As much as Hump wanted to trust him, he didn’t want to push his luck.

“What type of effects?” Bud asked.

Hump shrugged. “I have an urge to fly.”

Bud snorted. “Well as long as you don’t go jumping off a cliff, I can’t see the harm in that.”

“Not that strong an urge as of yet,” Hump said, smiling. “There’s also this.” He turned and focused on the nearby campfire, pulling together a shred of will and essence, forming an image of a small flame in his mind. He pointed his staff, and whispered, “Spark.”

The flame soared. He’d hardly even had to try.

Bud looked taken aback. “I thought you said your fire affinity was weak?”

“I did,” Hump said. “I’m not even sure I could have pulled off something like that without an entire formation of runes. Now my fire affinity might be even stronger than my earth.”

“That’s amazing!” Bud said.

Hump nodded glumly.

“Is it not amazing?” Bud asked.

“I suppose it is,” Hump said. “But I can’t control it. That was just a minor cantrip, I’m not sure what would happen if I tried to use Essence Blast.”

“You’ve grown stronger. It always takes time to get used to it. But it will come, with time and practice. And you’ll be better for it.”

Hump hesitated. What he was about to say went against everything Bud believed in. Hell, it went against his own world views too.

“You’re missing the point. I’m not just stronger. I’m changed. It’s hard to explain it, but for a moment, the dragon and I were one being. Our souls were merged. There’s a reason we don’t absorb power from heartstones, Bud. Gods, for all I know, this is the first step to become like Kassius.”

Bud frowned. “You’re not like Kassius.”

“Not yet,” Hump said. “But I could be. The soul is a fragile thing, and mine is now scarred. Technically I’m a warlock.”

Bud went silent for a long agonising moment. “You’re a good person, Hump. You’re strong, and you want to help people. Kassius was evil. He was willing to sacrifice anything for his own purpose.”

“You’re fine with it?” Hump asked. “The church could imprison you for allying with me, or worse.”

“You did what you had to,” Bud said. “It was the only way.”

Hump sighed, feeling more relieved at Bud’s approval than he’d expected. “I am worried though. Even though it was just a single moment, part of her is now me. What if she took some part of me away too?”

“What if she did?” Bud asked. “Humans change all the time.”

“And if I’m no longer fully human?” Hump asked.

Bud snorted. “You’re human, Hump. If you were a dragon, you wouldn’t be worrying. And you’d have scales.”

Hump grinned. “Good point.”

“From the way you’ve described it, it sounds a lot like my bond with Kelisia,” Bud said. “When we’re Chosen, we are granted access to a piece of our god’s power. A point of connection that allows us to draw strength from their domain. And likewise, a piece of our soul is given to them, binding us together. I don’t think the dragon meant you any harm, do you?”

Hump shook his head. “Probably not. She just wanted to protect her egg.”

“Then maybe this was just another step toward that goal,” Bud said. “A parting gift to help you and her child along the way. Does that sound possible?”

It did. And Hump slept much easier that night thinking of it. If Bud was right, Hump couldn’t be happier to carry a part of her with him. And even if his soul wasn’t entirely human, being part wolf dragon didn’t sound half bad.

Vamir left them at the edge of Bledsbury. They’d known the moment was coming, and for Celaine’s sake, neither Hump nor Bud had brought it up.

“Thank you for what you’re doing,” Hump said.

“Not at all,” Vamir said. “I owe you this much at least. He had us beat if not for you. Few would dare attempt what you pulled off, let alone succeed.”

Hump smiled. Vamir was being modest about it, but Hump knew he was putting his neck on the line to give him a little more time to prepare for whatever trials he might have ahead of him.

“Take good care of them, Bud,” Vamir said to the knight. “I fear you might be the only sensible one around.”

“Of course,” Bud said, not picking up on his sarcasm in the slightest. “Till when we next meet, Vamir. If you’re ever around these parts, you can find a bed and a meal waiting for you in Blackthorne.”

They shook hands, and Vamir walked over to Celaine. “Well then. This will be it for a while. Try not to be too reckless without me.” He grinned.

“I’ll be fine,” she said lightly.

“I know you will,” he said. “This is your first time in the world alone though. I have to be a little worried, don’t I?”

Celaine smiled and gave him a quick, awkward hug. Her cheeks were red. “I’ll be careful.”

“Good,” he smiled, and his smile quickly turned into a grin. “You’ve not given me a hug in years.”

“Do you have to be weird,” she grumbled, pulling away from him.

Vamir barked a laugh. “Right then. I’ll be seeing you. Don’t miss me too much.” He looked at Hump. “Remember what I said. Be ready. Listen to Celaine’s advice about your egg, even if she does rattle on. I know it might be hard, and you may find yourself unnaturally protective, but she knows what she’s talking about. Remember that.”

Hump nodded. “I will.”

“Wonderful,” Vamir said brightly. “Then I bid you all farewell. Look out for each other, don’t die, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

They watched him go as he rode toward the Mountain Road on the far side of the lake.

“Right then,” Celaine said, turning her horse back toward Bledsbury. “Shall we go?”

Hump grinned. “There’s a quick stop Bud and I need to make before we leave.”

“Where?” Celaine asked.

Hump looked at Bud and saw the same smug grin on the knight’s face looking back at him.

It wasn’t long until they were standing in front of the all too familiar small stone building with an Adventurer’s Guild sign hanging over its entrance. Hump took a deep breath and went inside. Once more, he strode up to the empty counter and slammed his hand down on the bell.

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” the receptionist called.

Hump put his elbow on the counter and leaned.

“What are we doing here?” Celaine asked.

“Registering for the guild, of course,” Hump said.

“And why do you look so smug about it?” she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

“Sorry to keep you…” the woman trailed off as she saw them. Her lips tightened. “Oh, it’s you boys again. I didn’t expect to see you back here. What do you want?”

Hump pulled out the old man’s medallion from around his neck and held it out for her. “I’d like to have my master’s medallion rebound to me, please.”

She let out a bored sigh. “Do you have the required writ of inheritance?” She glanced at Celaine, taking every care to look as pointedly down her nose as she could. “Or is she the silver ranked guild member here to vouch for you?”

Hump opened his pouch and pulled out three neatly bound letters. Two were the invitations from the Silver Spears and the White Peaks, while the third was a letter he’d asked for from Oswald. He laid each of them on the counter. “These should do it.”

“You didn’t have a will last week,” she said, folding her arms. “Now you expect me to believe you have three. Forgeries of such documents will land you in a cell.”

“Don’t worry,” Hump said. “These aren’t forgeries.”

She took Oswald’s letter first, stamped with his own seal, and blinked. She floundered under the desk for her glasses and put them on in a hurry, her eyes going wide as she read. “Gods above. I… I didn’t know,” she stammered, her entire face turning red. “My apologies for the previous inconvenience.”

Hump beamed at her. “That’s alright. I hope it’s all cleared up for you now!”

“More than clear.” She paused for a second, then carefully placed the letters on the counter and fumbled through the drawers, pulling out the mirror reader from inside. She turned the artifact around so that it was facing Hump. “If you would like to insert your medallion, I’ll have it rebound right away.”

“I’d like to sign the rest of my party up too,” Hump said.

She glanced between them, then nodded. “Of course.”

He placed the silver medallion in the mirror reader and the surface swirled with inky black ripples, gathering into words. There, Hump read the name of his Master: Sethril Woodrow. The woman turned it back to her, inserting small rune blocks into slots. And then just like that, it was done. She handed back the medallion, its previous icy cold bite now filled with warmth.

Hump put it over his neck and rested it comfortably against his chest.

“Welcome to the guild, Mister Woodrow,” she said. “Again, my sincerest apologies. I… I was just following the rules, of course. We must be careful about these things after all. The last thing any of us want is adventurers being targeted for their medallions.”

Hump paused, it felt strange to hear his master’s surname as his own. “Of course. Clearly we just misunderstood each other before.”

“At least everything is sorted now though, right,” Bud said, smiling.

The woman nodded gratefully. Then jumped into action. “Right, I’ll sign you both up right away. What’s your name, sir?”

“Robert,” Bud said. “Robert Blackthorne.”

She looked up at Bud, colour leaving her face. “Lord Robert Blackthorne?”

Bud nodded.

For the look of horror on her face, one might just think it was an undead wolf dragon that had shown up at the guildhall. Hump worked hard to keep his smirk from his face until she had signed Celaine up too and they were back outside.

“I can’t believe you both!” Celaine scolded. “What did that poor woman do to you?”

“Accused me of killing my master,” Hump said.

“Made fun of me for being broke,” Bud said.

Celaine frowned. “Okay, that’s pretty horrible. But did you have to handle it like that?”

They both nodded.

Celaine rolled her eyes. “You both are such children. This is what you got Oswald’s writ for?”

Hump shrugged, smiling. “I’m sure it will have its uses. And we needed to sign up to the guild anyway.”

Celaine drew a deep breath. “Mother help me. I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“Hey now,” Hump said. “The journey’s just begun. You’ll get used to it, I’m sure.”

Celaine glared at him, but then her face broke out into a smile too. “It really has just begun, hasn’t it? I’ve never been on my own like this before. Without Vamir, my family, or someone else watching over me.”

“Well, Bud and I have been at it for a solid two weeks now,” Hump said. “We’ve only almost died a handful of times. I’d say it’s been great so far.”

“To be fair though,” Bud said. “I received a blessing, and you received a dragon egg.”

“I kind of drew the short straw with Kassius’ dagger,” Celaine said. “Should we find an appraiser here?”

“Probably best we wait till we’re a little further from the encampment,” Hump said. “The dagger’s fairly distinct and I don’t want to give anyone ideas.”

She nodded.

“Right,” Hump said. “I don’t know about you two, but I fancy myself a hot meal, an even hotter bath, and my first night indoors for over a month. Unless you still fancy sleeping down by the lake, Bud.”

“No.” Bud chuckled. “One night of that was more than enough for me.” He let out a sigh. “It does feel good to have some coin in my pocket again.”

“Perfect,” Hump gave him his most innocent smile, and then spurred Prancer into motion. “You can pay. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the coin you owe me.”

Bud floundered for words, exasperated, but that just made Hump laugh. Celaine laughed too. This was it. One last night at the inn and the journey would truly begin. For the first time in his life, his purse was full, his opportunities were mounting, and he had a party he could count on.

* * *

The story continues in Book Two. Get it now!

THANK YOU FOR READING THE HEDGE WIZARD

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AFTERWORD

Thank you for reading Book 1 of The Hedge Wizard!

I’d been writing for 6 years before starting The Hedge Wizard, and in that time, I’d never managed to actually finish a book. I knew something had to change, and when I was put on furlough it seemed like the perfect time to stop making excuses and finally make it happen.

This is the story I always wanted to write—the adventures of a young wizard and his companions—and I’m so pleased to have you along for the start of Hump’s adventure. Actually having people reading my book is a dream come true. The journey will continue with Book 2 on October 11th.

Please help me to continue writing books like this one by leaving a review or rating on Amazon. It makes a world of difference to authors. Thank you!

If you want to support me directly, you can find early access to the first drafts of The Hedge Wizard on my patreon, which is found at: patreon.com/awmaher. There I upload the first edition of the next book chapter by chapter before it is published on Amazon.

Or if you’d like to chat with myself or other fans, you can join my discord: discord.gg/8nqQ9SfRyf.

You can also follow me on Facebook for updates: facebook.com/alexmaherwrites.

Thank you to my publisher, my editor Kalene, Fernando my cover artist, and to the fantastic Tim Gerard Reynolds! A big shoutout to r/dnd, r/progressionfantasy, r/fantasy, and r/litRPG for supporting me on your subreddits. And of course, to my amazing patrons and readers on Royal Road, your continuous support and encouragement still blows me away. There shall be many more cat pictures!

Take care and see you in Book 2.

Alex

GROUPS

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