The problem was that cage. If I started throwing bombs right away, Amaia and Naomi would still be stuck in there, and I couldn’t even guarantee I could get them out. Suppose the Kalamuzi with the key ran off, or got blown up, or otherwise was unable to be found. In the worst case the two women could be stuck in that cage while a fire burned around them, trapped.

So I had to wait. When the end of the ritual came, they’d be let out, so that they could be thrown into the pile. That’s when I’d strike.

I closed my eyes, trying to calm my beating heart in the mean time. I knew that there were a million things that could go wrong, and it was hard not to doubt the whole idea. I could blow myself up. I could blow up one of the girls. I could get killed by a Kalamuzi, or Olsgolon - who must be under that pile of loot. I could be successful, but die on the way out. I could…

A picture started to form in my mind. A memory.

I was laying on my back again, head in Amaia’s lap as she tried to comfort me. I could hear Naomi thanking me for saving her, nearby, even though that didn’t make sense, even though I hadn’t even met her at that point. But it didn’t matter. I was relaxed, calm.

The memory shifted, and we were around a campfire, laughing, drinking, swallowing big chunks of spiced worm-meat. Cadoc was there, giving a speech. We all toasted whatever it was he said - I couldn’t really hear it. It wasn’t the same as if I was really there - it was more the feeling of being there. I was happy.

Then the memory shifted again. I was at home. My mom was beside me. Disappointed. I couldn’t tell what she was saying, either, but I knew the moment, knew what she must be saying. It was perhaps the most pivotal moment in my entire life.

Next, I knew, came Tom. Tom with the answers. Tom with the advice. Tom with that fucking smile.

I opened my eyes. The head priest was wailing something as another Kalamuzi was fiddling with the lock on the cage. Soon the door was open. Naomi shot another look my way.

It was time. I ripped the Kalamuzi pelt off of my head, and stood. I slipped on the ring, and took a potion from my pack.

I ran out from the pathway, feet falling as if on invisible ground as I dashed out above the ritual. Most of the Kalamuzi didn’t even notice me at first - one in the back started to point, but no noise had even escaped his throat before an explosion reverberated in the walls of the chamber. I had blown up the two potions I’d left in the hallway - had to eliminate the possibility of reinforcements first.

Then, at nearly the same time, I had thrown one of the bottles - careful to aim it on the opposite side of the pile from where Amaia and Naomi were. Just before it hit the ground, I ignited the nail.

The bottle exploded, the sound nearly deafening even from that distance. An eruption of gold and silver rocketed from the pile, burying two unlucky Kalamuzi who screamed pitifully. A few more Kalamuzi, not much luckier, had been blown apart in the explosion.

But these were only a fraction of the crowd gathered there, still easily two dozen ratmen. They were all looking up at me now, shouting, screeching. Soon a fire roared where the explosion had been, and the noise of all of this was already a wall, dense and chaotic, but I was still far above it.

I wanted to say something cool, something like a hero would say - like Tom would say, that little voice in the back of my mind reminded me. But nothing I could think of sounded right. Someone call an exterminator? No. Lame.

So I just settled for throwing another bomb.

Amaia saw her opportunity. She ran from the cage while the guard was still staring and shouting, and snatched a sword from where it lay beside the pile - a sword with a golden hilt, embedded with jewels, which looked more decorative than practical. But it worked just fine, she soon proved, as she ran it through the stomach of the guard, who looked almost as shocked by his death as the Kalamuzi who had been buried by treasure just a moment before. Naomi ran from the cage as well, but didn’t grab a weapon, only ran to stand behind Amaia.

The second thrown bottle exploded, launching another wave of debris, killing another few Kalamuzi. But they weren’t content to just keep staring and being blown up. The head priest shouted something, pointed, and soon the Kalamuzi were all throwing things up at me where I stood in the air. Spears and axes, like you might expect, but also anything they could find, and I soon found myself trying to dodge coins and bones as well as weapons.

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It was impossible. They were throwing them from all directions, and I had nothing at all to duck behind. And they weren’t about to run out of things to throw. A silver plate, thrown like a frisbee, whizzed precariously close to my forehead, followed by a polished fork which stuck me in the thigh. I shouted, yanked it out - it was more surprising than painful, really - and reached my hand behind my back to grab another potion. I threw it, then retreated, head down, running towards the girls while quickly taking the ring off of my finger and slipping it immediately back on.

I dropped, and a strange spear with a sharp, flat blade at the end nearly gave me a haircut as it soared where my face had been a moment earlier.

I landed just a few feet from Amaia, just above the floor. I slipped the ring off, put it in my pocket. Amaia cut down another Kalamuzi - they were all heading towards the three of us, now, but had to navigate around the pile and the two fires - and then she turned to me, a faint smile on her lips. “You’re alive,” she said.

I laughed. “Good to see you too, Amaia.”

Naomi peeked out from behind Amaia’s back. “Took you long enough,” she said, but then flashed me a knowing smile.

Two more Kalamuzi ran at us. I drew my drows, got it up just in time to block the strike, carefully angling it as quickly as I could, and the Kalamuzi’s beautiful sword - another taken from the pile, I was sure - shattered. The Kalamuzi looked at the worthless pommel he held in his hand, mouth wide, and I grinned as I caved the ratman’s head in.

Meanwhile, Amaia didn’t even need to block. A Kalamuzi was charging her with a silver spear, and the pointed tip didn’t come anywhere near her. It was like the Kalamuzi was trying to stab someone next to her - but there was nothing there but air. Amaia cut this one down as well.

“Where’s Cadoc?” Naomi asked as she followed behind Amaia’s movements, staying always at her back.

“I don’t know,” I yelled, blocking another strike. The massive axe the Kalamuzi was holding didn’t break, but the Kalamuzi could hardly hold the thing up, anyway. It fell over after its strike failed, and I put it out of its misery.

Amaia and Naomi were both clearly troubled by what I said, but the emotion passed quickly from their faces. “What’s the plan?” Naomi asked.

“What do you mean?” I shouted back. “This is the plan!”

“What, be overrun by Kalamuzi?” she shouted back. There was a lull in the Kalamuzi, for a moment, as the ones immediately at hand had already been dispatched. Except the head priest, who had ran. “Do you know how many Kalamuzi there are in this place? Like, great plan, Miles. Happy you came to help.”

“I blocked off the entrance,” I said. “If we can kill the ones in here, we’ll be fine. And I don’t see you helping.”

“Me?” she asked, as if surprised by the suggestion. “What do you expect me to do? My magic isn’t exactly - hey wait a second. Is that my staff on your back?”

“It is.”

“Oh you’re the best, Miles! I could just kiss you. Toss it over, quickly.”

“No chance,” I said. “I can’t be carrying you around right now. I’ll give it back when we’re out of here.”

Another Kalamuzi had come by then, but Amaia stepped in front of it, and again the Kalamuzi struck wide. Amaia dispatched it without a problem.

“Excuse me?” Naomi said, hands on her hips. “That’s my staff! And my magic is worthless without-“

“You’re more worthless with it,” I said. “And wait, you guys still have your magic?”

She snorted. “You wouldn’t believe how much trouble we’ve been causing these rats.”

“I think I could believe it actually,” I said. “But there’s no time for that. If you’ve got magic, use it. It’s got to do something. I’ve got fucking burning nails, and I managed to make bombs. I’m sure you can figure out a way to make cutting shit useful.”

She held out her hand. “My staff.”

“You want it back?” I said. “Then help get us out of here.”

“And how do you propose I do that, huh?”

“Can you run?”

She blinked at me. “Uh, yeah?”

I took off my backpack, and threw it at her. She caught it. “Take this,” I said. “It’s full of potions. Bombs. Drop those around the base of the pile of treasure. Can you do that?”

“That sounds like a suicide mission!” she yelled. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“We’ll distract the Kalamuzi,” I said. “They’re all after me, anyway. And they probably still want to sacrifice you, maybe they won’t kill you. Maybe. I just need you to put those down. If we can blow this fucker up…” I didn’t finish the thought. I really didn't know what would happen if we blew up the core, but I certainly didn’t think the Kalamuzi would like it. And if I could use it’s power to get to the Second Ring…

“It’s either that,” I said, “or one of us does it. But you can’t just hide behind Amaia the whole time. We need everyone pulling their weight if we’re going to do this. One of us alone isn’t going to be able to fight off the Kalamuzi while the other places the bombs.

Naomi looked up at Amaia, and Amaia looked back. Something passed between them, silently. Amaia nodded.

“Fine,” Naomi said. “Only you can’t look.”

A little air escaped my nostrils. “What?”

She pointed at me. “Promise you won’t look, OK?”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, whatever, I won’t look. I promise to try my best, at least.”

Naomi sighed, then inhaled deeply. “OK,” she said. “Here goes nothing.”

She ran off, hugging the pack.

I heard a screeching noise, and turned back to Amaia. Two more Kalamuzi were charging at her, but both missed. She cut one down, and I beat down the other before it had a chance to recover.

“These Kalamuzi have a fucking awful aim,” I said, now standing back to back with Amaia, drows up. “The worst fighters I’ve seen yet from these rats. Do you think it’s because they’re priests?”

“It’s me,” Amaia said.

I turned to look at her, standing there in her rags. “What do you mean?”

She simply said, “watch.”

Another Kalamuzi charged at her, this one carrying another of those flat-blade-spears. It started its charge from far off - the most easily read attack of all time, and its aim, for once, was dead on. But Amaia didn’t move. She just waited there as the Kalamuzi got closer and closer.

Then, for seemingly no reason at all, as the tip of the Kalamuzi’s weapon got just within a foot or so of Amaia, it turned aside, as if there was an invisible forcefield around Amaia’s skin. The Kalamuzi missed completely, and Amaia rent its neck half off its shoulders.

“How did you do that?” I asked, although I suspected I knew the answer.

“Metal,” she said.

“That’s why the guard had a leather whip,” I muttered. “But I thought you could only break weapons? Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

She shrugged. “You never asked.”