Cal stood on the first floor’s inner sanctum.

They were all riding high after their victory. They’d recaptured one of the dungeon cores! The room, though, was a mess. The ovens, the buffet lines were gone, the cubicles were scattered all over the place, and there were random piles of food everywhere—like someone had taken a sledgehammer to the buffet counter before it vanished. Everything else was bare stone. The shadows were everywhere.

Cal and his team, along with Amorfo and Perkle, stood in the light of the dungeon core, which gleamed brightly from the pedestal.

Helga was reloading her musket, grumbling. “Out with it, ya dang snakehead! Everyone has good news, but no one is sharing.”

Amorfo threw up his hands. “I pant talk night. I’m bruceless!”

The troll paladin motioned him over. “Amorfo have lots of bruces. Meaning you useful. You whisper into Kronke’s ear. Kronke help.”

The Dudusa whispered passionately until the paladin was smiling ear to ear. “He say he thinks breakroom cores still alive. Maybe damaged, but still around, though they on very edge of Area of Influence.”

Perkle tapped his own core gem. “I can take a look, Amorfo, if you want me to take over.”

Amorfo’s snakes narrowed their eyes as the Dudusa glared at them. He then hissed words.

Kronke frowned. “Amorfo mad you don’t think he smart ‘cause he don’t talk good. That not true. Kronke not talk good but Kronke wise. .Wise. Not smart. Amorfo fine. Just got dysphasia from Barb’s magic and Helga’s scary scream. Dave have personality change after we released him. Get wisdom, maybe less arrogant, after being evil.”

Perkle flung up his hands and took a step back. “Oh gosh, Mr. Amorfo. I didn’t mean to second guess you. Just trying to be of help, here. No disrespect meant.”

Gwen fluttered her eyelashes. “By the gods of the sweet and savory, can we not do this right now? I think I know where the breakroom cores would’ve retreated to. I’ll go and take a quick peak.” She turned to the gadget gnome. “Perkle, we need to talk with Harvey.”

The Gadget Gnome fiddled with the audio crystal device until he hit a setting, and a voice burst forth. “Geez, whaddaya want? I’m busy trying to save your collective bacons, and I don’t wanna chat. You do know what’s at stake, dontcha?”

He had that eastern Eritrean accent, from one of the Snakhattan boroughs on the coast. Your typical Snakhattanite had a rather aggressive, off-putting demeanor that Cal always found difficult to deal with.

Perkle let out a squeal. “Harvey! Throw my gears in the garbage, but I’m so glad to finally talk to you!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, pleased to meetcha too. Always liked your work. Never thought I’d find myself working again. That Barb Starmyst is one tough customer, though, I’ll tell you what. I’ve been around hardcases before, when I did work at Dungkaban, but I ain’t never seen someone so deluded.”

Dungkaban was an experimental prison for rogue dungeons as well as dungeoneers, though last Cal heard the Council of Dungeons were thinking about withdrawing funding. Most of the time, both rogue dungeons and raiders weren’t arrested, they were destroyed outright. It was a daring experiment, though, to try and rehabilitate evil entities.

Cal was shocked. “You worked at Dungkaban? How?”

Harvy grunted. “How did I work there? Nearly got killed in my own dungeon and wanted a change of pace. Back when I could do a guardian form, I was a Steel Storm Naga, with an emphasis on Elemental magic, mostly fire and water, though I also excelled in metalwork, which is how I can create all these dang ducts.” He paused. “Never much liked Celestial Node protection, so I got a job at the prison. Started off as a guard, but when they saw what I could do with my elemental magic, I became an environmental specialist, even did some therapizing. Ran some group therapy ‘cause I was good at dealing with the more difficult convicts.

Gwen let her head fall back. “Great. Now the therapist comes out of the ductwork. He should’ve been on the payroll all along. DUDE needed some good therapizing.”

Perkle looked baffled. “How did you get from Dungkaban to the Department of Universal Dungeon Efficiency?”

“Got my core cracked. Bon Brown suggested I come and help with the environmental controls here. Truth be told, I didn’t like it, and I retired down into the basements. Been here for years, minding my own business, until this whole deal went down.” The core then got angry. “Can I freakin’ tell you what I found now? ‘Cause all this chit-chat ain’t gonna help nobody. I finally freakin’ got a duct on the fourth floor, near the entrance to Cardi’s dungeon. So far, Barb hasn’t noticed it’s there, so you bean counters might be able to skip the second and third floor and go right to the fourth.”

Cal pumped a triumphant fist. Finally, some good news. “If we can get to the fifth floor, and take out Barbara Starmyst, then her hold on Cardi would vanish. We wouldn’t have to fight our way through there.”

“Aye,” Helga nodded. “She is the Vanilla Master, and if we crack her core, she loses her power, and we can end this. We slowed her down, but we can nae lose this pedestal. I am nae a dungeon guardian, but I can assume ye can feel the power being leeched, can ye nae, Amorfo?”

The Dudusa opened his mouth to speak, Kronke leaned in, but Amorfo decided a simple nod would work.

Cal then had an idea. “I know the dysphasia is frustrating, Amorfo, but I think I can get around it. Would you mind if I did a Dungeon Meld with you?”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Amorfo winced and whispered into the troll’s ear.

Kronke spoke slowly. “Amorfo afraid it might hurt. Will it hurt?”

“It won’t hurt. But, uh, we might become a little more intimate than you’re comfortable with—”

Amorfo cut him off by lifting a finger and whispering into Kronke’s ear.

The troll paladin listened while scooping up some creamed corn off the floor and licking it off his finger.

Cal didn’t comment because he was too nauseous.

The troll nodded. “Yes, Amorfo. Kronke hear your pain. Kronke know sometimes, people cover up their insecurity with arrogance. Bragging can be armor. Brag loud enough, and you can drown out the voices of self-hate.”

Gwen’s fluttered her eyebrows in disgust. “I’m kinda done with—” She motioned at Amorfo and Kronke. “—whatever all that is. I’m gonna go. I’ll report back when I’ve found the breakroom cores.”

“Be careful,” Cal said.

Helga grimaced. “I’ll join ye, Gwenivere. This is too intimate for my comfort.”

Gwen and Helga, along with Hurricane, left for the secret archive room and the secret staircase that led up to the corner office on the first floor. Cal was pretty sure he knew where they were going.

Harvey’s voice broke from the audio crystal. “Hey, so we’ve all met and did that happy crappy business. I’m trying to get ducts down to the fifth level, ‘cause then I could get you right into the demon centaur’s lair. So I’m gonna end this little convo. Don’t call me, I’ll freakin’ call you. And why are you using an audio crystal and not a Blackberry? Don’t you know about freakin’ Department regulations?”

Perkle collapsed the antenna as the audio crystal went dead. “Yes, gosh, it is against DUDE regulations, but by my biomechanical gears, I never liked dealing with those infernal berries. I’m gonna go see about dungeon defenses and work on a couple more IBM tanks. Gosh, but I love Gwen’s designs.” The Gadget Gnome then skedaddled out of the room.

Kronke sat up and licked more creamed corn off a finger. “Kronke stay. Help Cal and Amorfo be friends.”

The Dudusa and his snake hair looked relieved. “Banks, Bonk. Pal, I’m steady.”

“Amorfo meant to say he’s ready Cal, for the Dungeon Meld.

Cal had no idea what he was going to get joining minds with Amorfo. But with over a thousand worlds on the line, he had to put his discomfort aside. He cast Dungeon Meld.

The first message he saw was unexpected.

<<<>>>

Dungeon Meld final message: I’m proud of you, Mr. Illudere. Take care of my daughter. We shall meet again in the Tree of Souls.

Active Dungeon Meld Status: Deactivated.

<<<>>>

Cal wasn’t crazy. He’d stayed connected, and it wasn’t until he started a new Meld that he got Dave’s last message. He had to swallow hard to get the lump in his throat down.

A second later, he got another message.

<<<>>>

Dungeon Meld activated! Amorfo Deuce has accepted your request. He’s a lot of emotional work, but he’s also powerful and he’s been doing audits for a long time. Give the poor guy a chance.

<<<>>>

“I don’t think that’s a phrase people use, “Cal whispered out loud. He was then plunged into the former merman’s life. He was indeed a failed merman, but in the end, he had impressed his teachers at the Shadowcroft Academy, and he’d made some friends, though he kept them at arm’s length because he couldn’t shed his arrogant armor. Really, it was Inke who’d become his best friend, and they were close. Not Cardiganna, who only liked Amorfo when he was pretending to be strong. Barbara Starmyst had joined them later, after she’d gone to graduate school and worked her own dungeon.

That brought them up to speed.

Amorfo sighed.

Cal was feeling Harvey’s frustration. < Amorfo, I’m glad we found a way around your dysphasia, and I appreciate your struggles, but look, let’s talk about all that later, maybe, over drinks in Cogsville.>

Amorfo said with a little too much enthusiasm.

Cal tried to keep things professional. He felt the loss keenly, and he had to swallow down a lump in his throat. Weavelord was gone. His core gem had been smashed. This wouldn’t be a spider office dungeon, it would be some flavor of statue garden, and probably a weak one at that.

Amorfo sent.

He wasn’t sure what the first floor had looked like when Barb and Cardi had controlled, but the basic structure matched what Weavelord had created.

They still had a room full of Electronic Abacus equipment, a ton of filing cabinets, and Helga’s Rage Cave with the flooded carpet and old armaments. The chess board room was now just a room of broken office furniture and garbage, and Dave’s old rec room was in even worse shape. All of the pool tables and foosball tables looked kindling.

In short, the place was a mess. The inner sanctum was a vast room, with linoleum floors and dead fluorescent lights and stained ceiling tiles, and food splattered everywhere, mostly creamed corn. The cubicle walls had been damaged beyond repair.

Amorfo sent.

Cal had to smile. It was similar to something Gwen had said.

Speaking of which, he heard the rogue engineer calling down from the corner office. “Cal! Hey, if you’re in a Dungeon Meld with Amorfo, I know you can hear me. Come to the breakroom. And bring Kronke! We’re having some issues—”

Then there was a huge explosion that knocked ceiling tiles down and shook the entire dungeon.

An explosion. What now?