The last ten feet of the corridor took about three times as much time to traverse as the first twenty-five feet had. Whenever Dominic found himself getting impatient, though, he reminded himself of just how close he had come to death because he had missed the trigger to that pit trap. The memory never failed to send a shiver from his nose tip to his tail tuft and quelled any sense of restlessness.

He’d stepped carefully over suspicious-looking floor tiles, making sure to place his back feet exactly where his front feet had been so that he’d known it was a safe spot. He’d warily tested every single crack, divot, or other blemish in the corridor walls by waving a paw past them, his body tense each time in preparation to flee if necessary. He’d even managed to remember to watch the roof – a precaution that paid off when he’d missed the trigger for a stone blade that had fallen from the ceiling like an executioner’s axe.

Watching the sharp stone thump into and crack the stone of the corridor’s floor had left the lion wide-eyed and with a thumping heart-rate that had threatened to deafen him. Dominic had found himself quickly revising the assumptions he’d had outside about this place not being designed to instantly kill anyone who entered. He’d started wondering whether the relative simplicity of the outside area was just to lead explorers into a sense of complacency.

Still, he’d managed to make it to the bend in one piece, despite the dungeon’s best efforts. His first sight of the room around the corner made eagerness rise inside him.

The room looked like a small sanctum of some sort. On the opposite side of the room from the open doors was a slab of stone balanced on two – hexagonal – pillars. The room itself was, predictably, six-sided, though for once it wasn’t actually a regular hexagonal prism.

The door was one face; the altar was on another. At least, Dominic thought it was the altar, but then what else could it be? The doorway was about six feet across; the wall behind the altar looked to be about nine feet wide. As for the other four faces, the two joining directly to the altar wall were about the same size as it; the two joining to the doorway were about three times that in width.

It gave the room a rather strange feel to it, the space elongating oddly from where Dominic was standing to end abruptly on the other side. Wondering what it reminded him of, the human-turned-lion dared to venture a little further into the space.

He kept a searching eye out for traps, but relaxed as time went on without any attack. Perhaps it’s just the corridor which is trapped, he theorised. Now I’ve almost made it to the altar, I’ve proven my ability. Even to himself, his words felt unconvincing.

Whoever heard of a dungeon without a boss monster? And he could barely count that final trodil as a boss. Sure, it was the most difficult, but not by that much. Besides, if the trodil was supposed to be the boss, there should have been some acknowledgment of that...shouldn’t there?

His unease rising as he slowly shuffled forwards, Dominic looked around the room, searching for what he was convinced he was missing.

The room was fairly bare. There was no furniture, not even any pews such as he might expect to see in a church. The altar itself was a bare slab of rock, as were the pillars it was sitting on, the single decoration being a burning red-tinted candle in the centre. And that doesn’t remind me of blood at all.

There were torches dotted on each wall: one at the centre of each of the two longer walls; two on the wall behind the altar; one on each of the walls adjoining to the wall behind the altar. Six torches in total. They would have been at about shoulder-height on a human, but were way above Dominic’s head when standing on four paws.

Below each of the burning torches was a statue. Not quite life-size, they seemed to depict armoured beings. Without being able to see their faces or bodies in any way, it was hard to tell whether they were human or not, but they were armed.

The two below the first two torches he passed were carrying a spear a little longer than they were tall. That is to say that it almost reached the height of the torch on the wall. The two below the second set of torches were carrying bows, carved to depict them in a ready position with an arrow to the string, but no tension in the bow itself. The final two, and the closest ones to the altar, were carrying strange curved swords. Dominic was reminded of something like a khopesh sword, an Egyptian blade with a double curve. Nasty.

Reaching the altar without any issue, Dominic wondered why he still felt so wary, like the penny hadn’t yet dropped. He was here, right? At the end of the dungeon. About to lay his hands – well, paws – on the altar as directed. Yet some instinct was telling him that something was wrong.

Shifting a little uneasily, Dominic found himself wondering if there was any way of doing this without actually touching the altar. Then he told himself off soundly – why would the objective of the dungeon be for him to touch the altar if he wasn’t actually supposed to touch the altar?

Refusing to second-guess himself further, he reared up and slammed his paws down on the surface of the stone slab.

There was a beat of stillness and Dominic started to relax a little. I knew I’d been overreacting.

Then all the lights except for the single candle on the altar went out.

Dominic jumped at the sudden darkening of practically the whole room, the only light in a small puddle around the candle. Even his excellent night vision would take a couple of seconds to kick in.

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He almost leapt out of his skin again as the sound of stone grinding against itself briefly preceded a loud bang. Even without being able to see it, he just knew that the room had been sealed closed.

Damn it! I knew deep down that something was wrong, Dominic castigated himself. But what else could he have done? He couldn’t touch the altar without touching the altar.

Movement caught his eye and he looked down to see words carving themselves into the stone of the altar itself. That’s not ominous at all.

A trap triggered, intruder beware.

The altar false; the treasure not here.

The darkness unleashes Pain and Strife.

Illuminate the world or lose your life.

What the hell is that supposed to mean? The lion asked himself in confusion. Then fear once more crept up his spine as he heard grinding of stone a lot closer than the door.

Only his quick reflexes and good hearing allowed him to react in time to the arrow that shot at him. Flinching sideways, it buried itself in the stone slab instead of his vulnerable flesh, but its very appearance filled him with dread.

I saw that arrow just a moment ago. The words drifted through his mind even as fear turned his bowels to water. He had seen that arrow – in the armoured hands of a stone statue that he’d passed only a few minutes before.

Suddenly, he realised what the room had reminded him of earlier. He hadn’t recognised it because he’d been seeing it from the wrong angle, but if he’d seen it from above, it would have been instantly identifiable: a coffin. And if he wasn’t careful, it would be his tomb.

Fwhit, thunk.

Once more Dominic reacted, though this time he was a little delayed, his fear slowing his reaction speed. A hot, painful line drew itself across his shoulder as the arrow tore away some of his flesh. The wound was barely more than skin-deep, but it was enough to get his mind back into gear.

No time for wool-gathering. I need to move. So saying, he leaped over the back of the altar, using it as a defence against the bowmen. Actually, he realised as two stone blades suddenly descended, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

Once more relying on his reflexes to help him duck out from under the blades, Dominic found himself running scared. Everywhere seemed to hold stone weapons. Running away from the stone khopeshes, he almost ran into a stone spear.

Then, darting sideways to avoid the spear, he was almost pinned by another arrow. Jinking this way, zagging that way, ducking and leaping, he seemed to stay ahead of the stone statues by no more than a breath.

Despite their slower relative speed in comparison to him, there were six of them and only one of him; they had reach and range on him, easily attacking him even when he wasn’t anywhere near being able to attack them. Even worse, when he did manage to pounce at one of them with his claws and teeth bared, he was reminded of one very important factor: they were made of stone. He probably hurt himself more than them in that particular attack.

This isn’t right! Dominic howled within his mind, a plaintive yowling emerging from his jaws. This isn’t just a trap – it’s a death trap.

It seemed completely unfair – to force him into a situation that he had no chance of winning. Stone against flesh and blood – unless you had a hammer or explosives, who could be expected to escape this?

Then it hit him like the very hammer he so wished he was able to wield. It was unfair. Terribly so. Not something that he would expect from a dungeon which had so far offered such balanced risk.

Breaking away from the statues, he took the long way around so as to avoid a swordsman and a spearman, slinking under the thrusting spear of another, dodging two more arrows, and then leaping over the head of the final swordsman.

Landing heavily on the altar, he looked at the words once more. ‘A trap triggered, intruder beware.’ Yeah. No kidding. ‘The altar false; the treasure not here.’ Dominic felt frustration rise inside him even as he had to jump to one side and then back again to avoid the two arrows shot at him once more. Great. So this wasn’t even the real altar.

He looked at the next two lines, and would have frowned if he could. ‘The darkness unleashes Pain and Strife. Illuminate the world or lose your life.’ Pain and Strife…. What’s that meant to mean? An arrow came at him again; he avoided that one but winced as his avoidance caused him to almost step into the path of the next. Another gouge was ripped in the side of his neck, tearing some of his fur away with it. Ow!

Then it felt like something else had struck him as he had his lightbulb moment. Pain and Strife...the statues! They were certainly a pain in his backside! The darkness unleashes...The statues started moving when the torches went out. They’re related?

It seemed likely. Absently, he jumped aside to avoid one arrow, then again to avoid the second. Briefly tearing himself away from the contemplation of the poem to wonder why he was only being attacked by arrows. Where are the spear and swordsmen?

Looking into the darkness beyond the puddle of light, he realised that they were just waiting beyond it, staring at him. It was frankly unnerving as heck. Even the archers were waiting in the darkness proper, and when they raised their bows again to shoot arrows at him, they were careful not to let any part of their bodies or weapons enter it.

Dominic looked at the moving statues, and then at the poem. Suddenly, it made sense. The problem was that, although he now had an idea of what the whole thing meant, he had no idea of how he could use that to save his own life.