The walk was excruciating, both physically and mentally. Mentally because I knew I was going much too slow. They would be gone by the time I arrived, I was sure of it.

But I had to try.

My best chance was that Cadoc would have caught up to the Kalamuzi, and started fighting. Maybe he’d even be able to free Amaia - that might increase our chances drastically. If he was fighting them, and they were unable to keep running away, then I might just be able to catch up. Not that I would have been much good in that state, but what else could I do? Take a nap while my friends fight for their lives?

There’s that word again, I thought. Friends. Is that what they are?

I wasn’t sure if I was really capable of having friends. Every time I’d tried in the past, I’d been betrayed. Hell, even with Cadoc and Amaia, I’d been betrayed. So then why was there that feeling in my chest, like my heart was going to burst if I didn’t find them?

I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted to keep walking.

If it wasn’t for the staff, I wouldn’t have made it further than a step or two. Clutching at it with both hands, I was just able to drag myself forward.

I couldn’t say how long it took, but eventually I reached the other side of the cavern. The steam was thinner there, and the sound of the waterfalls faded.

There was the mouth of some tunnel, like the one we had entered from. I pressed on, grunting under the strain.

The tunnel forked in multiple spots, branching off towards who knows where. I would have been surely lost except for the trail of blood leading my way. Cadoc’s arm must still have been bleeding, which meant he hadn’t even bothered to tear off a bandage from his clothes. I wasn’t at all surprised by that. I almost smiled at the idea.

It wasn’t a massive amount of blood - he probably would have passed out, if it was - just a few drops, occasionally. A few times I didn’t see the blood, at first, and it took some searching to find the right way again.

The path seemed to go on forever, and I absently wondered whether I had ever actually awoken from the pool-induced slumber, whether I really was just dreaming all of this. But the pain in my muscles kept me from giving the thought much credence.

Eventually the blood stopped. Either Cadoc had finally had enough, and bandaged the wound, or - or what, I didn’t know. No matter how much I searched, I found no blood on the stone floor.

Almost falling to despair, I looked up, only to notice a smear of blood on the wall of one of the paths. Was it on purpose? Impossible to say. Nothing to do but follow it.

What kept me going were the fantasies of dead Kalamuzi.

The tunnel did end, finally - I had been considering purgatory as another possibility, just before. Maybe even Hell.

The space opened before me, the path ending in a stone outcropping over a massive pit. The mouth of it yawned wide, pointed pillars of stone growing on the sides of the round chasm like the teeth of a ravenous behemoth. The pit was wider than any room I’d found in the dungeon thus far, and for some reason, reminded me of the coliseum in Rome. Perhaps it was the strange indentations on the walls, above the mouth, before the “teeth” started, almost like the outlines of arched windows. I’d never actually been to Rome, but of course I’d seen pictures. This hole was at least as wide as the coliseum was.

The outcropping only stuck a few yards out, not much further than the teeth below. I struggled up to the edge, dark thoughts already nibbling at the corners of my mind. There, on the very precipice, was another smear of blood. I leaned forward, peering into the pit.

Dread dulled my rage. It was an abyss. The ambient light of those underground chambers had become so normal to me that I had stopped even noticing them - glancing above me, I saw that there were again more of those bioluminescent mushrooms, giving off their ghostly blue light - though I couldn’t see a ceiling. I thought I could almost make out more outcroppings above, faintly outlined in the mushroom-light. But there were too far off to say for sure.

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It was a sort of relief to look away, but the darkness called to me. Looking down again, the contrast was stark. Absolute darkness.

I felt a compulsion to lean further forward, to gaze into the blackness, and I had to stoke the flames of my anger in order to keep control, to keep myself from tumbling in. I pulled myself away, collapsing onto the rock.

But the longer I sat, the more those flames weakened and dimmed. Where did they go? I thought to myself. They couldn’t possible have gone down, could they? I looked at the spikes around the perimeter. They would never do for hand- or footholds. The surfaces of them were smooth, and the walls were not much better.

Besides, that enormous depth…it was hard to imagine even the Kalamuzi runts entering such a chasm without being frightened off.

Did Cadoc lose them? I wondered, frantically running through the possible scenarios. Did he double back after this, and try another path? Did he drive them here, and fight, and in the violence and confusion, they stumbled, humans and Kalamuzi both falling to their deaths? No. Couldn’t be. But what happened?

Did he have the ring? I could almost imagine a way down with that, but I checked one of my pockets, and sure enough, I still had it.

I began muttering to myself, head in my hands. “What if that wasn’t even Cadoc’s blood? Was it fresh? It was, right? Had to have been. But the smeared blood, maybe that was old, from someone else. Is that possible?“

The room seemed like it was spinning. I dug my fingers into my hair, trying to hold on.

“Maybe I missed more drops of blood. If I missed them, went the wrong way, I should turn back- but what if I didn’t? What if they did go this way, and there really is some way down? Are they in that pit somewhere? If I go back, am I leaving them? If I go down, am I making a mistake? How could I even get down?” I looked at the pit again, but quickly had to turn away. It was unsettling to look at, even for a moment.

“Where would I go, even if I turned back? There were dozens of paths. Where did I mess up? At the first one? The last one? Would I even make it in time, anyway? Am I too late? What if they’re dead?”

I could feel my pulse quickening, like my veins were about to burst. My breaths were shallow. I knew I should calm down, but I didn’t have it in me.

“What if this platform I’m on used to be bigger, and all of them were on the edge of it, and the rock broke away and fell, and they’re all lying in a broken pile of corpses and rubble at the bottom. How would I even know? I could search this dungeon for years, and never, ever find them. Except I would die long before that. I would starve. I can’t hunt a worm-drake on my own. Or the Kalamuzi would find me. Or maybe that guy Nolan would. I’m fucked. This is fucked. I don’t know what to do. What am I supposed to do?!”

I cried out, and the sound echoed in the open space. Then my words were flung back at me like accusations. “Supposed to do? Supposed to do? Supposed to do?”

I tried to heap fuel on the fire again, tried to reinvigorate the anger inside me. I thought of the Kalamuzi dragging off my friends, thought of Cadoc, bleeding, chasing after. But that only made me sink deeper. There was anger there, but it was weak.

Ms. Hayes, my old therapist, used to tell me I was “emotionally unstable.” That thought came to me occasionally, since coming to the new dimension - I felt like I had broken down crying more in the past couple months than I had in most of my life before that. Despite that, I always thought, at the time, that it was rather rude to say something like that to a patient - especially one who behaved perfectly calmly in all of our sessions.

“You’re bottling up something, Miles,” she had said, relaxing into her chair enough that she looked like the patient - while I, rigid and straight, looked more like the therapist. “It’s obvious. You aren’t opening up.”

“Well I’m all opened now!” I screamed. It felt like the room was closing in around me, like my throat was closing in, too, and I couldn’t breath except in gasps. But I managed to yell.

“Is this what you wanted!” I yelled, blubbering. “Did I do it? Did I pass the test?”

I was growing faint, but I couldn’t stop. “Did I make you proud, huh? Is this what you always wanted? To see me crying like a little kid? You broke Dad, and now you broke me. Congratulations!”

I realized I wasn’t thinking about Ms. Hayes anymore. The echoes mocked me. “Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations…”

I was spent. It was like flipping a switch; one moment, I was raging against the world. The next moment, I had passed out.

-

I awoke to someone strangling me.

I tried to gasp, but hardly any air came. I flailed, my eyes rocketing open, and saw what was happening.

It was Nolan.

“I finally found you,” he said, a sadistic grin on his face. Both his hands were tight around my throat, and he lifted me to my feet. His thumbs dug into the skin beneath my jaw.

His eyes burned into mine. “Are you stupid?” he asked. I couldn’t answer, of course, but he waited, watching me squirm.

I saw that, behind him, some distance off, two identical women stood, bows drawn. His teammates. They looked uncomfortable, as if they disapproved of the situation, but clearly weren’t about to stop it.

“I said,” Nolan continued. “Are you stupid? Answer me, knave.”

I managed to squeak out a pitiful “yes.”

He laughed, and released his grip slightly. Only slightly. “A shockingly honest answer. Next question. Answer well, and I’ll make it quick. Not painless, mind you. You haven’t earned painless. But quick.

“Where is my sword?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. “Fine,” he said, and he loosened his grip entirely. I let the air flood in with desperate breaths.

I wanted to dash at him, but of course, there was no point. I was cornered - behind me was the abyss. And if I tried to charge, I’d be knocked off, or simply shot.

“I don’t have it,” I said, rubbing the sore spots on my neck. I saw that he was carrying a sword, but it was a plain, simple one. Not exactly an equal replacement.

“Well then where is it?” he said, putting his hands on my shoulders, clearly threatening more strangulation.

“I sent it to another world,” I said, honestly. Then something struck me. “Is Leah OK?”

Nolan sneered at me. “You truly are stupid,” Nolan said. “I almost feel sorry for you. Almost.

“Do not joke with me,” he continued. “Where is my sword?”

“I really don’t have it,” I said.

“Ah,” he said, as if realizing something. “This old trick. ‘You can’t kill me, or else you’ll never find it.’ You are a fool. Tell me quickly, or else I will simply torture it out of you, you simpleton. Do you wish to be struck by lightning endlessly, arcs of electricity crisscrossing every inch of your flesh? Tell me where my sword is before I burn you.”

“I am not trying to trick you,” I croaked, throat sore. Maybe I was being so direct because it all felt like a bad dream - like most things had in that dimension. Or maybe I had just resigned myself to death. “I don’t have the sword, and I couldn’t give it to you, even if I wanted to.”

“We will see about that, fool.” Nolan tightened his grip on my shoulder, and reached for his sword with the other hand. “You have chosen a slow and painful death.”

I didn’t even care. Kill me, torture me, what difference did it make?

Then I noticed something about the sword he was holding, something that hadn't hit me before. It was Amaia’s sword.