In the hallway outside Weavelord’s office, Cal sighed and ran his hands through his long not-quite-platinum hair. He’d hoped to finally make friends with the other teams this weekend, but now he’d be spending it trying to hold his team together.

He might have already failed.

Helga, Hurricane, and Kronke waited for him down the hallway in the small lobby where visitors could wait for their appointments. Towering Shadenight Vines in pots resembling massive urns decorated the space between the couches, and a pair of Granite Gargoyle Golems guarded the doors. Occasionally, visitors were a little agitated with their auditors, and the golems kept things from getting out of hand.

Gwen was nowhere in sight. Cal dodged a strike from one of the plants as he joined Helga and Kronke. Its thorns dripped with poison. “Any sign of Gwen?”

“Nae sign of her.” Helga nodded down the hallway toward the dormitories. “But I’m bettin’ she went to her room. She likes to hide behind her traps when she’s upset.”

“Maybe she in break room,” Kronke suggested.

“I doubt it,” Cal said. “But I’ll check there, just in case. I left my snacks for the weekend retreat in the fridge, and I want to grab them. We might as well have something to munch on while we file.” Before Kronke could even ask, Cal turned to him and smiled. “And yes, I brought cookies.”

The troll grinned. “Cal good boss.” He clapped Cal on the shoulder hard enough to knock him into the plants, which promptly wrapped Cal in a very spiky, poisonous hug.

Helga and Kronke detangled Cal from the vines before the toxins knocked him out. As he wobbled out of range of the deadly plants, a snort of laughter echoed across the lobby.

The leader of Audit Team One, Amorfo Deuce, walked through the archway leading from the dormitories. A small herd of luggage followed, each piece trundling along on chitinous legs like a shiny black stag beetle with zippers.

Amorfo was a male medusa with green skin and dozens of snakes protruding from his head. He and his snakes wore mirrored sunglasses which reflected the office lights. It was like staring into a disco ball. And like a high-school jock who can’t let go of his glory days, he still wore the white-and-orange letter jacket he’d gotten at the Shadowcroft Academy for Dungeons.

“Almost killed by office plants,” Amorfo sneered. “How do you even survive an audit?”

“You’ve got that backwards, Amorfo.” Audit Team One’s second-in-command, Cardiganna Lowhand, kicked a carry-on out of her way and stepped out of the hallway. She was a horrifyingly beautiful woman with skin that had hardened into obsidian, as smooth and unyielding as her claws. In contrast, her pink sweaters looked almost magically soft, and her perfectly coiffed hair was rather luxurious for being undead.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Cardiganna’s icy gaze swept over Cal and his team. “The real question is, how do the dungeons survive letting these dungeoneers into their inner sanctums? And the answer is… they don’t.”

“What are you talking about, Cardi?” Amorfo’s brow furrowed and his snakes writhed in confusion.

She stepped forward, obsidian claws flexing at her sides. “They killed Ramsey the Dragon.”

“Say what, bro?” Amorfo’s snakes emitted a chorus of angry hisses as he stepped up beside the wraith.

“That’s not true,” Cal squeaked in protest, taking an involuntary step backward. “We tried to save him!”

Helga trotted Hurricane over, interposing herself between Cal and the leaders of AT1.

“We filed the proper paperwork,” Cal explained. “Our TAP report was marked urgent, and we turned it in early! It’s the Department’s fault it wasn’t acted on in time.”

“You’re traitors!” Cardiganna raised one clawed hand, and Cal cringed back, nearly stumbling into the Shadenight Vines again.

Before Cardiganna could strike, a granite hand grasped her wrist and she let out a gasp of surprise and pain.

Cal blinked. Apparently, the golems could move a lot more quickly and quietly than he expected.

“No… violence… here.” The golem’s low rumble vibrated the floor, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t wrench her arm free.

Finally, she relaxed. “Fine.”

The golem released her and returned to its post by the door, looking ominous. The second golem’s eyes were lit up with an inner fire, but it hadn’t even twitched. One was more than enough, it seemed.

Massaging her wrist, Cardiganna glared at Cal’s team. “No matter. You won’t be around to bother us much longer. I’m sure Weavelord will show you the door as soon as he gets the paperwork done. Once you’re no longer employed here, you’d better watch your backs.” She clacked her claws together threateningly.

A towering, emaciated Tattoo Troll walked out of the hallway and stopped in surprise at seeing the Granite Gargoyle Golems settling back into their usual spots. Inke was AT1’s data guy, and he wore a tiny leather vest, open to better display his tats and dungeon core gem. “What going on, bro?”

Amorfo took a nervous step away from the towering golems. “Nothing much. We were just saying our final goodbyes to team six here.”

“Ah yes,” Inke said with a toothy grin. “I hear they not be joining us for weekend. So sad.”

“I’m sure they’ll find something much more fun to do.” Amorfo’s voice oozed insincerity.

Kronke raised a finger. “Yes! We get to file!”

Cardiganna rolled her eyes. “You must be confused if you think filing is better than an all-expenses-paid weekend at a luxury resort.”

Inke cackled. “Kronke born confused. Me not surprised. Data suggest pretty ones are dim ones.”

Kronke grinned. “Inke call Kronke pretty. Me thank you for compliment.”

“Not a compliment,” Inke barked.

At his threatening tone, the golems shifted their weight forward slightly, and Amorfo grabbed the troll’s shoulder, pulling him back. “Let’s get out of here. Barbara’s waiting at the portal.”

With a final threatening stare at Cal, Helga, and Kronke, Audit Team One led their scurrying luggage away, heading toward the courtyard where the Department’s portal was located.

Kronke, brow furrowed, watched them go. “Arrogance hide deep insecurity. Kronke feel sorry for them.”

“Don’t feel sorry for them,” Helga said. “They threatened to kill us.”

Cal didn’t like being bullied. He’d gotten enough of that from his family. “We’ll prove them wrong. I don’t know how, but we’ll find a way.”