Chapter 9

Dungeon IV (Key)

Sabo trailed behind Bidelia as they made their way down another stone corridor, the echo of Mags’ fall still ringing in his ears. How can she tell one hall apart from the other? They all look the same. Sabo’s grip tightened on the small axe he had borrowed from Frane’s forge for this expedition. It was well-made, but a splitting axe for firewood, not a weapon for battle. Frane was an excellent blacksmith, but his business served the people of Solstice, not the war effort on the Coalition Front. Frane’s forge hadn’t seen a sword in a long time. So, Sabo was stuck with the axe as his makeshift weapon of battle. He couldn’t help but wonder if Vitomir was right—he should have spent more time practicing with weapons other than the sword. Something more practical, like the axe or spear. Though it isn’t like Frane was forging spearheads either.

Bidelia whispered, her voice barely audible over their footsteps, “I think we’re being watched. Keep your eyes away from the walls.”

Sabo’s skin prickled with unease. He swore he heard murmuring and bestial grunts from the other side of the stone. Despite Bidelia’s warning, he couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the walls. One of the stones retracted, revealing a yellow eye glaring at him. Its pupil was slitted, like a mountain cat’s. Sabo tightened his grip on his axe, his pulse quickening. “Uh… Bidelia?” he whispered.

“I see it too,” Bidelia responded flatly. “Keep moving.”

A hundred scenarios raced through Sabo’s mind. If a Maldrath appeared through the walls and attacked them, would he be able to defend himself and Bidelia with just this axe? He wished it had been him instead of Mags who had fallen into the other dungeon. She had Mithra, after all. The walls seemed to close in, the shadows deepening. Are my eyes playing tricks on me?

Suddenly, Bidelia sprang forward in a quick burst of movement. “Run!” Bidelia suddenly shouted, darting down the corridor.

Sabo didn’t hesitate. He sprinted after her, his longer strides helping him easily keep pace. A chaotic flurry filled the space in the corridor they had been walking through a moment ago. Sharp rocks filled the air, fired from the walls on either side of them, and spears stabbed out from holes revealed in the stone. The corridor seemed to come alive with hostility, trying to swallow them whole. He felt the rush of air as the rocks shot past, narrowly missing him. The adrenaline in his veins was the only thing keeping him moving.

Sabo felt relief wash over his body as he stumbled into another corridor, careful not to run over Bidelia who abruptly stopped, frozen still, her eyes trained on the branching corridor to their right. “That was closer than—” he began, but the rest of his words died in his throat as he caught what Bidelia had been staring at. Two goblins stood in the narrow hall, beady yellow eyes practically glowing in the dim light, full of malice and trained on them as though dinner just strolled through the door after a long day’s work.

Both goblins were short and wiry, their sickly green skin marred by scars and filth. One had jagged teeth bared in a permanent snarl, a short knife clutched in its clawed hand. The other, covered in warts, was unarmed but clad in mismatched armor, a patchwork of solen or scavenged scraps.

The armed goblin moved with feral grace, lunging at Sabo, knife aimed at his chest. Sabo barely sidestepped the stab, the clunky pack on his back bumping into the wall of the corridor as he did so. The goblin stepped back, eyes darting and nose twitching with predatory anticipation. It hissed and charged, making another erratic lunge with its knife. Sabo readied himself, only to be caught off guard when the goblin feinted, lowered its knife’s trajectory and slashing at Sabo’s midsection. Sabo twisted, the blade glancing off a small cast iron pan that hung off the pack.

With a grunt, Sabo turned, swinging his axe in a brutal arc. The goblin raised its knife, poised for another strike, but Sabo’s momentum was too quick. The blade of the axe cleaved through the goblin’s arm, sending the severed limb spinning through the air. The goblin shrieked, purple blood spurting in dark ribbons. Sabo brought up his axe again, raising it over his head before slamming it down. The axe plunged into the goblin’s chest, slamming it to the ground in a spray of blood that splattered Sabo’s entire front.

Sabo pulled on the haft of the axe, but it pulled the dead goblin with it, stuck deep in its chest. Shit, Sabo thought, trying to yank the axe free of the fallen monster.

At that moment, the second goblin leaped onto his back. Its small hands clawing at his pack, trying to reach around it to the back of Sabo’s head.

“Bidelia,” Sabo gasped, “help!”

Sabo screamed, a mixture of fear and frustration, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He threw himself backward, slamming his back, the pack, and the goblin latched onto it hard against the stone wall of the corridor. The goblin screamed, its garbled voice mixing with Sabo’s. He felt it let go of his pack, but as soon as he turned to face the creature it was lunging, tackling Sabo to the ground.

Sabo fell onto his back, the goblin crouched on his chest, clawing desperately at his face. He raised his arms, avoiding a claw to the eye and instead taking a shallow scrape across his forearm. A rock hit the ground near his head, ricocheting off the stone by his ear. Another rock hit the goblin in snarling face, but it was unphased, snot and spit running down its face and dripping onto Sabo. A third rock hit him in the head. Ow! It would leave a bump, but luckily didn’t land with enough force to do any serious harm, or distract him from the goblin attempting to tear his face to shreds. He glanced over to the source of the stones and saw Bidelia standing fearfully against the corridor wall, handful of rocks, a stone raised high, ready to launch again.

“Please,” Sabo screamed. “Stop trying to help!”

It was too late. She launched, the stone going off course and hitting him in the arm. “Ow! . . . Come on!”

“Sorry!” Bidelia squeaked.

The goblin took the opportunity and moment lapse in Sabo’s focus to yank his arm aside, getting its two hands around Sabo’s neck. It squeezed, its hot breath mixing with Sabo’s own desperate gasps for air. His mind raced. He had to end this quickly.

Sabo threw his arm out, trying to feel for his axe, but he had lost sight of it and couldn’t feel it. The goblin squeezed tighter and Sabo felt the edges of his vision growing white. He thought he heard Bidelia scream. The goblin snarled. Was Bidelia swiping at the monster, trying to get it to loosen its grasp? His hand continued to feel around until his hand brushed against something. His axe? . . . No. It was the severed arm of the first goblin. Sabo’s heart skipped a beat as he felt for the hand, and then the knife.

Wrapping his fingers around the knife’s hilt, he yanked it from severed hand and brought his arm up in a jab. The point of the knife went right into the goblin’s eye. It howled, reeling back and relinquishing its grip on Sabo’s neck. Sabo gasped, air filling his lungs, burning with pain. He rolled to his side, realizing he luckily still held onto the knife.

The goblin was still yelling in pain, hand over its bloodied eye. Sabo sprung forward, shouldering the creature and sending it flying into the wall with a sickening crack. He drove the knife forward, upward into the goblin’s gut, the blade biting deep. The goblin gasped, eyes wide with shock, as Sabo twisted the knife and slashed, spilling entrails onto the wet stone floor. Panting, Sabo let go of the knife, letting the goblin collapse onto the floor in a lifeless heap.

The corridor was silent, save for Sabo’s ragged breathing. He looked up to see a shocked, but composed, Bidelia. She ran her fingers through her straw-colored hair, pushing it away from her face. He noticed they were shaking, if only slightly. “Well done,” she said, voice surprisingly even keeled, “we should keep moving.”

Sabo nodded before turning and taking in the scene following the battle. Blood and viscera covered the walls. The pulsing of his heart, a heavy thrum in his head before, slowed and grew quiet. The rush of battle and survival drained from him, and his stomach lurched. He bent over and retched, emptying the meager contents of his stomach onto the floor in front of his feet. He stood straight, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, torn where the goblin has slashed it. Something about the goblins, so human-like despite being monsters, did not sit well with him. Placing a foot onto the goblin’s body, he was finally able to wrench his axe free. Watching the axe leave the goblin’s flesh made his stomach turn and flip again.

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“Are you alright?” Bidelia asked.

“A bit shaken is all,” he responded. “I’ve hunted before. But something about these creatures . . . they just seem too human-like.”

Bidelia’s expression softened. “It’s survival in the Deep. You did what you had to do. And make no mistake, these goblins wouldn’t have hesitated in killing and devouring us. You were defending yourself.”

Sabo nodded again, though he was still shaking.

image [https://i.imgur.com/e8W62zp.png]

They pressed onward, Sabo’s thoughts swirling with the weight of his actions. He couldn’t stop replaying the fight in his mind, every detail searing itself into his memory. The goblins’ eyes, their desperate struggle clashing with his own will to survive, haunted him. It felt as though he had been battling against a dark reflection of himself. Like Bidelia said, it was us or them. I did what I had to, to survive, he reassured himself, though it brought little comfort.

Bidelia led them down another narrow corridor that ended in a sturdy wooden door. It was locked with what appeared to be an ordinary keyhole. Next to it was an open doorway leading to a balcony. Before stepping onto the balcony, Bidelia used her Navigation ability, closing her eyes and focusing. Sabo felt the now-familiar warm vibrations wash over him, a calming presence in the otherwise oppressive darkness.

Bidelia opened her eyes and sighed. “I have bad news. We need to go through the locked door to get to Mags and the dungeon core. We’ll need the key.”

Sabo glanced at her, then at the door—which by all accounts seemed a mundane wooden thing—and finally down to the axe in his hands. “Key . . . or an axe?”

Bidelia shook her head. “Won’t work, at least not how we’d intend. The door has a magical seal on it. If we bypass it without the key, it will trigger the seal. Can’t say what kind of trouble that would cause us.”

Sabo sighed, pressing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “I hope your powers can help us locate this all-too-important key?”

“Indeed,” Bidelia said, a small chuckle escaping her lips. “It’s through this door,” she indicated the door leading onto the balcony. “But I sense the presence of monsters, as well. So, we’ll need to be quiet and careful.”

Bidelia led the way onto the balcony. The stone banister wrapped around a large room, about the same size as the one with the towers and the aether-firing mechanism. Sabo’s heart sank when he saw what waited below. Blind be! It’s a whole horde of them!

The room was crawling with goblins. They were largely indistinguishable from the two they encountered in the other corridor. Quickly scanning the room, Sabo thought he counted about twenty in all. They lounged around several campfires, eating fish and other meats off of sticks, some raw, some roasted, with other sticks sitting before the fires. The goblins chattered in their guttural tongue, and a few appeared to be playing dice. Besides the fact that they were green-fleshed, sharp-toothed monsters, the scene could be of any human camp across the Crown Coalition’s eastern front. The comparison made his stomach lurch again as he recalled cutting the goblin’s stomach open with the short bladed knife. Stop being a coward, he chastised himself. What would Mags think if she saw you acting this way afterward?

Bidelia’s eyes flashed, and she gestured to Sabo, pointing to a goblin sitting near one of the fires. Sabo followed the path of her finger and instantly spotted her mark. It was a goblin, sitting near one of the campfires and drinking from a pewter mug. Around its neck was a thin cord, and at the end of the cord dangled a key.

Bidelia crept back into the corridor they were in before, signaling for Sabo to follow. Once they were safely hidden again, she whispered, “We need to be crafty. We can’t engage the entire horde.”

“I don’t think there’s enough of me to go around,” Sabo said, lifting the arm the goblin had clawed during their fight.

Bidelia was, of course, right. The sight below was a hive of activity, goblins moving about, eating, and talking. Retrieving the key, and being “crafty”—as Bidelia put it—was easier said than done. They needed a plan.

Sabo crept back onto the balcony and scanned the room below, noting the positions of the goblins and the layout of the space. The balcony they stood on overlooked the entire room, giving them a clear view of their target. The goblin with the key sat near the center of the room, its back now turned to them. It seemed engrossed in its meal, unaware of the danger looming above. Several ropes dangled from the balcony, suspending at their end various carcasses, dried meats and other random goods. Crates were scattered across the space and tucked into corners and there were doors at either end of the room.

Returning to their corridor hideout, Sabo asked, “Did your experience with the Explorers Guild give you any knowledge on goblin sleep patterns?”

“That would be helpful just about now, wouldn’t it?” Bidelia snorted. “I may seem like a wealth of knowledge, but unfortunately my goblin knowledge stops at making sure you stick them with the pointy end of your blade and do it before they do you.”

“That’s a shame,” Sabo said, frowning. “I don’t reckon we have time to waste waiting around and seeing if they’ll fall asleep.”

Bidelia shook her head.

Sabo sighed. “I spotted some rope we could use to sneak down, assuming the stairs are too obvious. Chances we could outrun an entire horde?”

“Not the best odds I’ve seen, but I’d make that wager.”

“Alright, then.”

Sabo slipped the pack off of his shoulders, placing it near the locked door. He placed the axe into a loop on his trousers, careful that the placement didn’t open him up to accidentally maiming himself.

When they entered the room, crouched and remaining as quiet as possible, Sabo pointed to where the ropes dangled down to the room below. Bidelia nodded. They approached the rope, careful not to make any noise. Bidelia went first, her movements smooth and practiced. Sabo followed, his heart pounding in his chest. They reached the ground without incident, hidden in the shadows behind a pile of crates.

They moved silently, using the crates and other debris as cover. Sabo’s mind raced with possibilities. If they were spotted, they wouldn’t stand a chance against twenty goblins. He drew his axe, his grip tightening, ready for anything. They remained crouched, hidden behind the crates. Sabo scanned the room, searching for the goblin with the key. He spotted the goblin, which had gotten to its feet and was strolling around the room. Eventually, it took a seat near one of the fires at the back of the room, not far from their hiding spot. They were close now, just a few feet away from the goblin with the key. Sabo’s heart pounded in his ears. He could hear the goblins’ guttural conversation, their laughter grating on his nerves.

The goblins appeared to be gambling. A small pile of coins and other metallic odds-and-ends sat between them, and they each took turns rolling three bone-white six-sided dice. The key-wielding goblin exchanged a few words with the others before patting down its body. Eventually, its hand landed on the key and it lifted the cord over its head, presenting it to the others. After a little more back-and-forth, the other goblins seemed to grunt in acquiescence. The goblin dropped the key, cord and all, onto the pile and they began to throw the dice in a sequence Sabo couldn’t quite understand.

“We won’t be able to get to the key,” Bidelia whispered into his ear. “We’re going to need to move quickly. Here.”

Sabo looked down and saw a fairly heavy looking stone sitting in Bidelia’s palm. He locked eyes with her. “I think I’ve had enough of you throwing stones,” he whispered.

“I meant for you to throw it, you ass!” she hissed, voice low.

Smiling, Sabo took the stone from her and surveyed the room. He spotted a pile a discarded armor not far from one of the other campfires. Taking aim, he hurled the stone at the pile. The stone landed squarely onto the pile of refuse, creating a loud clang and subsequent series of crashing and ringing as helmets and chest plates cascaded off of each other and onto the stone floor.

Goblins sprang into action, furiously moving at the sound and desperately searching for the source of the sound. The gambling goblins also stood and approached the pile of armor.

“Now!” Bidelia hissed. She bolted towards the small betting pot and with a fluid motion, reached out and lifted the cord, throwing it over her head so they key dangled around her neck.

Sabo sprinted from the crates, making his way back towards the dangling ropes. “No,” Bidelia said. “Stairs!”

Sabo quickly changed direction, following Bidelia towards the stairs, which were unguarded and further from the source of their distraction. Behind them, more goblins stirred, their confusion quickly turning to anger. They scrambled to their feet, weapons drawn.

Sabo and Bidelia ducked behind another pile of crates, hearts pounding. The goblins were alert now, searching for the intruders. Sabo peeked over the edge of the crate, his mind racing. They couldn’t stay here; the goblins would find them soon. Now or never, he thought. His muscles tensed, ready to sprint. But Bidelia’s hand touched his shoulder. He glanced down to find her holding another large rock in her hand.

“Think we could get away with the same trick twice?” she asked.

“Doesn’t hurt to try,” he said. “They’ll probably be on us either way once we make a break for the stairs.”

Without another word, Bidelia launched the rock over her head. The stone spiraled through the air, its arch sending it in the direction of what appeared to be a pile of bones from Sabo’s distance. Instead, the rock hit an unsuspecting goblin square in the back of the head, sending it falling to the ground with a thud.

Okay, now or never! Grabbing Bidelia’s hand, they dashed across the room, their footsteps silent on the stone floor. Several of the goblins didn’t notice them, their attention focused on their fallen comrade. They reached the bottom of the staircase and, only then, Sabo noticed that a group of goblins had spotted them and were pointing and yelling furiously. I hope Bidelia can run really, really fast, he thought.

They didn’t stop running until they were sure they were safe—up the stairs and around the balcony until their reached the entrance to the other corridor. Sabo’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “They’re coming right behind us!” Bidelia shouted.

Reaching the locked door, Sabo grabbed the pack. Bidelia’s fingers fumbled with the key for just a moment, before getting it into the keyhole. Gods, please be the right key, Sabo prayed. With a click the door opened and Bidelia ran in, Sabo followed, quickly turning to slam the door shut. Bidelia was faster this time, locking the door from the inside using the key. Seconds later goblins beat against the other side of the door, furious snarls and growls accompanying their attempts to break down the door. Sabo leaned against a wall, his mind still reeling from the close call. He looked at Bidelia, her face pale but determined.

“We did it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sabo nodded, the weight of their achievement settling on him. They were one step closer to finding Mags and the dungeon core. But the dangers they faced were far from over.