Calcannis Illudere had been enjoying himself at the Fiscalia, eating shrimp with plenty of cocktail sauce, and trying to decide on which mocktail he was going to order, when Perkle Tinkletwerp made it clear that Weavelord and Audit Team One were in trouble. Big trouble.

Something was going on at the Department of Dungeon Efficiency’s main offices, and Perkle was terrified. He rounded up as many audit teams as he could find—one’s he trusted—and marched them out of the Black Ledger and directly to the BYE portal at the center of Cogsville.

The Quatros had gone through the portal first, since Cal and his team had to wait for Kronke the Charming to finish up consulting with the Black Ledger’s bakers about their desserts.

It was fifteen minutes later, about 6:20 P.M., when Cal found himself standing in the courtyard. He knew, right away, something was wrong. The windows of the main administrative building were dark. The dorm rooms were still bright, but then someone might’ve left the light on. Could it have been the Quatros? They’d arrived first, but now, the mysterious fourth Audit Team were nowhere to be found.

Quisling hadn’t said five words to Cal during their entire together. Then again, the Cloaked Specters were generally not what you’d call a chatty class.

Cal’s team followed him, appearing in front of the BYE portal, the Branches that Yield Everywhere. The portal was an offshoot of the Tree of Souls, and their main way of traveling.

Kronke the Charming wasn’t wearing his armor—but he did have the Pink Reaper bracelet on his wrist. The magical Laplander hat was on his head, and he had a non-magical shawl to match. Kronke was their trap-springer and healer as well as their tank of a fighter that heroically went where both the wise and foolish feared to tread.

Helga Kneebash hadn’t worn her chainmail nor her Spirit Llama sweater to the concert but went with a dress that matched her braided hair perfectly. Of course, she was the team’s ferocious barbarian halfling interior decorator. Along with Hurricane, she could evaluate the Feng Shui of a room one minute and kill Void imps the next.

Gwenivere Copperblade was in her normal black and red rogue armor—lots of nicked leather and stylish accessories. Helga made sure Gwen looked amazing, even though she walked around in her dungeoneering outfit. The bandolier of throwing silverware somehow seemed more like an accessory than an arsenal. Her hair was midnight dark except for the strip of blue that matched her icy blue eyes perfectly.

Gwen was the team’s structural engineer and newly certified gadgetry expert. She’d ascended to mid C-Class, which was kind of a mystery, since DUDE auditors weren’t typically in the ascension game.

Perkle Tinkletwerp roared out of the BYE portal in his scooter and circled them. “Come! Come! Come! When I left, the new Celestial Node had just opened up. I could hear the screams of those other auditors, Mr. Cal. And Weavelord. Oh, golly. I’ve never heard him make such a noise as what I heard.” He was a tiny little man with a big bulbous nose. A belt loaded with tools circled his waist. Grimy work clothes and big black boots covered the rest of him.

Cal glanced around. “Where is Team Freundschaftsbeziehungen?”

Gwen snorted. “Why? Looking for your girlfriend? The way Dirndil Müeller looks at you is scary.”

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Cal frowned. “She is scary, but she can’t help that. She’s an Alpine Specter. It comes with the territory. I thought Team Three were here to help us.”

Perkle zoomed around them. “They’ll come. They’ll come. Getting Team Freundschaftsbeziehungen away from beer isn’t easy. But I trust Denise. Trust her true.”

Helga sat astride her battle goat, Hurricane Hoofclop, who was as heroic as he was smart. “Aye, we might need their help. For cannae you nae see the windows? Them windows be covered in cobwebs. Looks like we might be dealing with a spider dungeon. Maybe a certain daft Spidercrat’s dungeon.”

“My dad?” Gwen looked a bit worried. Then she found her smirk. “Well, if he’s flipped and gone rogue, this won’t take long at all. Five minutes with Team Six will make him re-consider breaking my heart twice. Have I told you about my tenth birthday party and the clowns?”

Kronke went and patted Gwen. “Kronke be there for you. We have good cry. Bake cookies. But not too many. Sad are the cookies that are used to flee feelings.”

Every so often, the big troll paladin would throw out a bit of wisdom in well-formed sentences. For him, it was like the opposite of a brain fart.

Perkle stopped his scooter. “We can’t wait. Can’t wait a bit. The new Celestial Nodes appearing in our building ain’t natural. Should’ve seen it coming. Maybe there’ll be answers in Cell 12E in the basement. Answers to Weavelord’s screams. And the ATI, they’re in there as well, and they’re all in trouble!”

Cal had to agree with Perkle. “Come on, guys. We can’t wait for Denise and the rest of Team Three.” That would include Baron Von Wrathski, Anheiser Dos Equis, and Dirndil Müeller. That Dirndil was cute. Too bad her Alpine Specter aura scared the heck out of him.

The troll paladin swept aside his shawl to reveal a Ryannis Illudere T-shirt. “Kronke overhear Anheiser say he wanted to buy a T-shirt. Like Kronke. Maybe he stop to buy T-shirt. Start fashion trend. Like Paula Ru from Clothesvania.”

Cal had to close his eyes. He couldn’t believe his brother was touring, on his own, singing, dancing, and starting a PR campaign about how dungeoneers were evil and it was the dungeons that were good. It was overtly political. And it was slightly embarrassing. Ryannis had a definite and lucrative following in the dungeon core community.

Gwen laughed. “Kind of ironic, buying Illudere merch at such a critical time. Adds to the drama.”

Helga spat into the flower garden. “Pah. Ryannis’s logo is too busy, and it be off kilter. I’d nae waste a single penny on any it.”

Kronke looked crestfallen. “Me like pattern.”

Gwen hooked an arm around the troll. “It’s fine. But we’re going to need weapons and armor. Too bad they’re in our cubicles. Though I might have an extra knife or two in my room.”

Cal had considered that.

Perkle let out a wail. “Please! Time is of the essence. Once we get inside, we might…things might…oh, let’s just go. There’s armor and supplies in the basement. Let’s make haste!” He puttered away to the webby front door of the building and waved them on.

Gwen uncoiled Hemp, her magical rope. Spike—her wand of trap and secret door detection—was in a sheath at her side. “Okay, we’ll go through the front doors and head for our cubes. We might not be able to make it down to the basement.”

Cal plucked the pen-sized Ruby Staff out of the inside pocket of his robes. He then increased its size until it was the size of a walking stick. “I have most of what I need right with me.”

The troll paladin nodded. “Kronke has armor at his desk. Helga’s desk has her battle things. We fine. We should hurry.”

“Aye, let us make haste!” Helga cried out. While she didn’t have weapons, she did have her combat magic.

On the way through the gardens, Gwen drew close to Cal. “We can trust Perkle, right? If I didn’t know any better, I could’ve sworn he’s leading us right into a trap.”

Cal considered the tears on Perkle’s face. “If he is play-acting, he’s doing an amazing job of it. No. I think that concern is real.”

“Hope you’re right, boss.” The rogue flipped her dark hair out of her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Perkle. We bond over our love of gadgets. Speaking of which, if my steampunk wings and shrimp blimp aren’t at my desk, I just might cry.”

“Don’t cry,” Cal said absently. “I don’t react well to overt displays of emotions.”

The front door was half-open, stuck in place with thick cobwebs.

Beyond was darkness.