On the way out, Cal told them the whole story of his strange encounter with the Divine Auditor. While Kronke had many questions, Gwen and Helga were strangely silent. Cal was exhausted, too exhausted to answer very many of the troll’s questions.

Cal had a question for Gwen. “Are you mad that I didn’t crack Barb’s core?”

The rogue didn’t say anything for a long time. When she spoke, she struggled to keep her voice from wavering. “She basically killed my dad, but if she’s going to be forced to work at DUDE for ten thousand years, locked in a room with a surly dungeon core…that seems like a fair amount of hell to me. Especially since we’ll get to see good ‘ol Weavelord in the Tree of Souls again.”

Cal had told her about that last message from Dave.

Back in the CannaByss Dragon’s lair, they found an unconscious Hurricane, next to the beaten-up coffee machine and the barely functional sink. The ruins of the geezer freezer lay not far from them. Cal couldn’t believe that poor Karl was gone.

Kronke healed Hurricane, though the battle goat was still very weak. She only had the strength to carry a weary Helga, and so Fullgeers and Daphne had to stay in the bottom most basement, but Cal promised to come back for them.

Then Audit Team Six, together once more, marched up through the empty rooms of the now defunct dungeons. They all were too tired and too grateful to talk much. So much had happened. There had been so many times when they’d danced on the edge of death.

It was eerie walking through the various dungeons, with little bits of things that were still fading. For example, Cardi’s hallway of lockers were slowly vanishing, turning back into raw Apothos. No Locker Goblins were there to pester them.

Some of Amorfo’s statues had survived the final hours on the third level, and several were missing arms and heads, as they returned to primal energy powering the universe.

And though there weren’t any Celestial Nodes powering the place anymore, Cal could feel the residual energy. Up the staircase they went, through the second floor, where they walked past a few broken tattoo chairs and big puddles of ink drying on the floor. The graffiti on the walls were also fading, but the scent of sweat, sandalwood, and honey-berry cigars lingered, until a fresh blast form the new heating and air-conditioning system blew the fresh scent of spring pine trees mixed with wildflowers.

<<<>>>

Ultra Audit Tipline Message

HVAC New System Name: HBAK – Harvey And Barb’s Air Konditioning

Tipline Note: Harvey is very patient. Barb is very strong-willed. Oddly enough, they make a nice couple. Ever see those old married couples who bicker? Yeah, it’s them. After half an hour, it’s like they’ve been married for fifty years in an expensive Brooklyn apartment on Uroth where there’s no rent control. It’s going to be a long punishment for Ms. Starmyst. Harvey seems to be enjoying himself, however. He’s been alone for a long, long time.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

<<<>>>

At the reception area of Inke’s old dungeon, which had morphed into The Death Pits of the Office Party, they found Kelly Ryan plucking her cosmetics off the little table next to her padded chair and carefully putting them into a cardboard box.

Cal immediately wanted to help her. She was so pretty and cool.

With her makeup packed away, she stood up and gave them all a withering look before sighing. “Ugh, I forget the charm magic is so powerful. Okay, fine, I give up.”

Was her voice different? Her voice seemed so different. And she seemed far less cool.

The tattoos on her skin faded until her skin was back to being the color of Plunger, the Prince of Porcelain back in Barb’s Spa of Horrors. Her hair was the color of ink at midnight in a cave. Or a raven.

Gwen squinted. “Wow, Kelly, gotta say. I liked the tattoos. We can still hang out, though. I guess.”

The mysterious receptionist marched right up to the rogue. “Gwenivere Copperblade.”

Gwen nodded. “That’s me. You’re not talking like you did before.”

“Because that was a ruse, dear. I was pretending to be one of Inke’s minions, a Summoned Receptionist. In Barb’s case, it was a Summon Temp spell, but it worked the same. Ms. Copperblade, I am at my wit’s end.”

“Wait.” Gwen smiled. “Raven-hair? Beautiful woman? Mysterious? You’re Maya Daya. You’re from the Mind’s Eye. You were involved in this whole thing the whole time!”

Cal went to grab her with the Ruby Staff.

Kronke went to summon the reaper, but no, his magical charm bracelet was gone.

Helga, atop Hurricane, squinted, readying her musket. “Hope yer not here to cause us more mischief, lass, ‘cause we’ll fight ye. Ye know we will.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Please. I’ve been wandering this dungeon for two days going unnoticed. Yes, we met twice, but only so I could scan the Aldaleeran goth girl here. I give up, though. Ms. Copperblade, I couldn’t ask you before, lest I give away my real identity, but please. Do you have, or have you ever possessed, the coveted summer salad threek in the Majestic Baroque version of the High Regal Eritrean silverware collection.”

Kronke squinted at her. “Threek? What threek is?”

Gwen answered. “It’s a fork with three tines. Gwen patted her ammo belt, which was mostly depleted, but all she had was her favorite roast beast fork and some soup spoons. “I didn’t think the Majestic Baroque had threeks. Sorry. I don’t really remember throwing any.”

Maya Daya gave Gwen a disgusted look. “Yes, darling, the Majestic Baroque had threeks, but they are rare, and hence, that is why I am here. We know you stole silverware from both Otis and Mimi. This was my chance.”

Cal was having trouble following. “So, Maya Daya, you’re here for what?”

She gave him a look that could sour a sweet Aldaleeran apple. “I’m here for the summer salad threeks, which are a part of the Majestic Baroque collection of the High Regal Eritrean table setting. Unlike the unfortunate male medusa, I am not suffering from dysphasia.”

Gwen had a dizzy smile on her face. “Wait. So, the Mind’s Eye aren’t Dungeon Council assassins. And they aren’t behind the dungeoneering guilds. But they are what, collectors of exotic silverware.”

The woman threw the cardboard box on her hip. “This has been a monumental waste of time. I was never here. You never heard me ask about the threeks.”

A second later, she was gone.

Kronke glanced around. “Please tell Kronke you saw that. Heard that. Or is maybe Kronke hallucinating?”

Gwen only laughed. “No, Kronke, you’re not hallucinating. Looks like we’re solving all the mysteries today. By the way, I lied. I did have threeks. I think I threw them all at Decaisy Demons back on Tittikaka though. They’re probably in the Void at this point. Good luck finding them there.”

Cal got his team moving.

As they climbed the main staircase, he shook his head. “I will never understand this obsession with silverware.”