The party continued to run round and down through the dungeon-pit of the Tower of Tartarus, four to a row, swapping in and out of the front row as their energies needed replenishing and as their skills were required. Here and there corridors and doors led off the ledge that encircled the pit, but they knew instinctively that these minor diversions would not lead to the Sword they sought. Unfortunately the cultists and monsters that occupied these side-rooms heard the commotion as the party charged past, came out to see what was happening, and ended up pursuing them down the ledge so that there were now monsters in front of them and behind them.

And above them.

And below them.

Giant-sized centipedes crawling up towards them with their hundreds-of-legs. Devilish blood-red scorpions chasing behind them with pincers bigger than Horatio’s head and wicked-sharp stingers poised up above their bodies like scythes, catching the magma-glow from below, ready to harvest their lives. Those disgusting pale-purple eyeless jellyfish things floating up or down through the centre of the pit towards them. Grotesque winged single eyes flapping up at them from the depths of the pit in droves. Bizarre robed egg creatures hovering above the ledge come to bombard them with magic. Animate brown voodoo dolls tied together out of sackcloth controlled by unseen warlocks. Giant cockerels spliced together with the hind quarters and tails of dragons—cockatrices. And all manner of other nameless horrors and abominations, bits of limbs mashed together in unnatural ways, mutated beasts and hybrids-of-beasts, robed and unrobed, masked and unmasked cultists with hideous deformed growths protruding out of their hands or arms or legs or faces.

What have we descended into? thought Horatio as he ran. There is no way we’re ever going to survive this, even if we do ever find the Sword again. Truly this is Hell. We are descending to our deaths.

They needed everyone’s skills just to stay alive for a little longer and fight off the onslaught of monsters. Alex himself had a peculiar fighting style, now that they finally got to see him in action: He boosted the companions’ abilities and weakened the monsters with strange flamboyant magics, and jumped around all over the place, unnaturally. Just now he launched himself off the ledge towards a floating jellyfish that was about to make impact with the party and rose up through the air, where he smacked the creature with a staff, sending it spinning away into the depths of the pit, before coming back down to land a little way behind the party and running back to rejoin them.

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‘Horatio, watch out!’ Ceres cried.

Horatio’s head snapped back round as he ran. In front of him was one of the huge red scorpions. He’d gotten distracted by watching Alex and hadn’t noticed its approach. Its stinger came down towards him; he wasn’t going to be able to get out of the way in time—

There was an unnaturally low noise, like the bass note of a piano being strung out, and the scorpion was magically slowed in its attack, its stinger now moving towards Horatio much more slowly.

‘I slowed it down for you!’ yelled Tyler from somewhere behind.

‘Thanks!’ Horatio called over his shoulder, then ducked under the slowed stinger and drove his sword into the small crevice between the scorpion’s head mandibles, where it stuck fast.

The scorpion twitched and writhed in a slow-motion death, but there was another one coming up from behind it already, and Horatio struggled to pull his sword free of its body.

‘Excelshivania!’ shouted Walter, breaking rank and dashing past Horatio. He ploughed into the next scorpion, an axe in one hand, a spear in the other, and parried back its pincers with his weapons, then swiped and thrust at the monster. He fought like a man possessed, clearly drunk half out of his mind again, on drink or battle or both Horatio did not know. His spear stuck into the scorpion in the same place that Horatio had pierced. Walter yanked the spear free and bellowed in triumph.

But there was another scorpion following fast.

It reared up , pincers poised, and was about to bear down on him when a bright lightning bolt seared into it, burning it white hot for an instant and stopping its advance, steam hissing up from its carapace, and Walter got a moment to recover himself.

‘Stay away from my future husband, apparently!’ cried Ursula, bounding past Ceres and Primus, who were preoccupied with fending off a flock of bats that buffeted the party.

The two stood back to back with each other as yet more scorpions reached them, Ursula hurling more lighting and fire and ice and wind spells, Walter a whirlwind dancing blades, taking out another weapon from the seeming inexhaustible stock about his person whenever he broke one or one was taken from him by a monster. There was a flash of light, and all of a sudden Tyler was there with them too, apparently using time magic on a smaller scale, slashing this way and that with his own sword and throwing out his own time and gravity spells, and the fighting family was complete.

Another wave of monsters broke against the party as they made their descent.

Battle 3.