The door was made of wood inlaid with metal bracing. It had probably been solid as rock…a hundred years ago. Now, it crumbled beneath Dakota’s hand.

He set Jesus on top of the arch and then scooped armfuls of dirt away from the entrance. The water complicated things. Every time he pulled dirt away, mud from the edges would slide down undoing his work. He eventually opened a space big enough to jam his foot into. He kicked the door, breaking it, and then pushed the pieces into an open space behind the door.

The water was above his knees and rising fast. He frantically scooped dirt away, exposing the door bit by bit. As the water reach his thighs and started draining into the hole in the door, Dakota noticed a small light dancing its way down to him.

“Nononononono.”

The little lightning serpent paused in front of Dakota, unaffected by his shooing motions or the pounding rain.

It flicked past him and out of the hole. He felt his knees go weak with relief. If another lightning bolt struck down here, he was dead. Even if the bolt didn’t directly strike him, the small lake he was now swimming in would bake him like a wiener on a stick.

Dakota’s relief lasted all of the next four seconds before the zipping light returned…with a friend.

He smashed the door with his fist, bloodying his knuckles as chunks scattered into the darkness beyond the arch. The water level was rising even as it poured through the opening. Gripping the edges of the hole, he pulled his head through and looked around. He couldn’t see anything but he thought he felt a light breeze against his face. Wind? Down here? Hopefully, that meant it wasn’t a small dead-end cave.

Water pushed around his shoulders, trying to send him into the tunnel.

“Not quite yet.”

Dakota wrenched himself free and noticed, to his dismay, the number of lightning serpents had grown. Dozens raced around the bottom of the pit, as more swept in from above. His hair rose as the creatures started to frenzy.

“NONONO.”

He snatched Jesus and jammed him face-first through the mud and water into the hole. Kicking against the slope of the crater, he surged through as well, shoulders scraping past the jagged wood and metal inlay.

His head burst into open air, covered in mud. Jesus “baah’ed”, not happy with his recent treatment. With one arm cradling the lamb, he used the other to pull himself the rest of the way in.

It was dark but, surprisingly, not black. Dakota could see the faint outline of the tunnel walls, curving away to his right. Water pooled around his feet, flooding in through the hole. He ran into the darkness. If a lightning bolt struck the pit outside, he was still dead.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

As fast as he ran, he couldn’t outstrip the water. A shape coalesced from the darkness as his neck hairs stood on end. Dakota leapt, landing on the shape.

BOOOMMMMMmmm

Debris rained from the tunnel ceiling…and Dakota was still alive.

“Ha…hahahhaha…HAhohohehe.”

Dakota wiped a tear of mirth from his eye.

“I’m losing my motha lovin marbles.”

It wasn’t light enough to see whatever Dakota had landed on but it felt sturdy. He felt the object with his hands. It was shaped…like a seat. He tried lifting it. It didn’t budge an inch. He supposed it wasn’t the oddest thing in the world to have a seat in a hallway - if that’s what this tunnel was.

He stood, peering into the not-quite-blackness.

The tunnel wound back and forth, never heading in a straight line. Dakota followed the path, content to find out where it would bring him.

Brushing a hand over the wall, he inspected the surface. A faint… luminance shone from cracks in the wall. Hmm… more like thin lines of strata actually. The wall was smooth but not polished, it felt like, well, smooth stone.

Dakota appreciated the light. He would have had to do this completely by feel otherwise.

He crept along, occasionally pausing to inspect the wall until he saw something that made his heart pound. The tunnel…ended. Smooth stone blocked the way ahead. Visions of water flooding the passage raced through his mind.

Rushing over, he pushed against the stone. No way this was natural. It was too clean, too intentional. There had to be a door handle.

Dakota pressed his face against the floor, trying to find a crack. Nothing presented itself. He felt along the corner of the stone, then pressed against the middle as hard as he could. He even gave it an honourary front kick.

Nothing.

He took a step back as water swirled past his feet. He was missing something. His eyes landed on the faint, glowing lines curving through the walls. There was no pattern…except. The lines converged on the slab, and now that Dakota looked for it, he could see faint lines in the stone itself.

He traced them, fingers following their twirling design. It looked random but as he followed one particular line it lead him to an innocuous circle of untouched stone in the very center of the slab.

Taking a shuddering breath, Dakota placed his hand into the circle.

Nothing happened.

“Aw cmon.”

He was sure that was going to work.

He kept his hand in the circle and tried to “feel” anything.

No tingles or blooms of light presented themselves. Maybe he was thinking about this backward.

Dakota hadn’t spent too much time considering his new ability to sense other beings. Currently, the only one he could feel was the goblin chief and the feeling was faint, barely perceptible unless he focused and extended his… mind? It was weird. Almost like he had to push his consciousness outward in a cone.

He tried the same thing now, pushing beyond the reach of his fingertips. Something fluttered at the edge of his control. It was on the other side of the wall. Just a little further…