Trinch luxuriated on a pile of cushions, taking up a whole side of the tent to himself. He couldn’t stop smiling as he explained his plan:

“The tavern’s boss, Miserable Henry, keeps the fragment in a locked underground vault. It is one of seven other fragments, all taken from adventurers who fell from other dungeons. He collects them. This vault is located directly under the still, and the only way to access the vault is to climb down through the still.”

“That makes no sense,” Zoe said. “Why do we have to climb through the still?”

“The fragments power the still, and they’re the source of the blue beam emitted by the pressure release valve. We need to shut down the still to safely move through it.”

Oriz shook her head.

“Even if it’s shut down, the residual vapors and heat will be deadly for Zoe.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Princh said as she handed out a set of uniforms that looked like baggy grey hazmat suits. “I got some uniforms from the maintenance crew.”

“How did you do that?”

Princh batted her eyelashes.

“I’m a master of seduction.”

Zoe couldn’t help laughing.

Trinch continued.

“How is not important, but since we have the suits, we can get past the guard. But to get into the vault, we need the key. Only the guard has the key. Oriz, you’ll take care of that.”

Oriz’s grey skin paled.

“I don’t kill.”

Chains clinked as Trinch dismissed her objection with a wave of his massive hand.

“Killing anybody will bring the attention of the whole tavern down upon us.”

“No…”

“Yeah, Miserable Henry, that miserable bastard, completed his circle of detection.”

Crik nodded as a silence permeated the others, he ignored Zoe’s confused expression as he spoke up, a sob still straining his voice.

“I saw them complete the circle. It's more of a spiral, at least seven phases, if not eight —”

“It can’t be eight!”

“Who has more time to waste on projects than those damned to purgatory?” Crik said. “Like Trinch says, there are too many country-tier adventures in the tavern. The circle can track them, but the level of counter-tracking, jamming, illusions — you get the idea — the circle just reminds us we’re in Henry’s palace. But they’ll pick up the slightest whiff of death energy and then we’ll have to deal with Henry himself.”

“The second we kill anyone,” Trinch said. “He’ll be on us like a bubyip on a plumpadoodle.”

Zoe’s cup was empty. The single shot had gone a long way.

“I don’t understand… anything you just said. What’s a circle of detection? What’s a bubyip? What’s a plumpa… plumpadoodledoo…”

Oriz gently took her cup from her hand.

“Did you notice the pattern of the tiles that made up the square?”

Zoe frowned.

“No?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Trinch said. “Oriz will get the key off the guard and we’ll use the maintenance suits to climb our way through the still and into the vault.”

“What about Zoe’s level? She is only 15, we need her at level 20 for you to assist her in stabilizing the incursion.”

“Don’t worry, it’s all going to plan.”

Oriz raised an eyebrow, but Trinch chuckled.

“When have I ever let you down?”

“Fine. I trust you. Now, when is the next scheduled maintenance?”

“Next month.”

“So…?”

One of Trinch’s chains reached out and tapped the pipe at the center of the tent.

“The thing about Henry is, for all his power, he never adapted to this dimension,” his chain slithered up the nozzle and into the pipe. “Henry still thinks of himself as a prince of the Crimson Armada. It’s the whole reason he took over the tavern and made it what it is today.” The brass pipe clinked and trembled as the chain extended further and further. “The problem with such rigid thinking is that you are bound to have blind spots, and thus you are bound to encounter problems. Problems you can avoid with a more open mind. Problems that make you,” his chain tautened, “miserable.”

He grinned as the chain zipped out of the brass pipe and wrapped around his wrist. The ghostly metal faded into the thick green fur. In the distance, there was the woof of burning alcohol. Someone screamed.

The sound set Zoe on edge.

“What if they call the regular maintenance crew?”

Princh laughed.

“You underestimate how good I am.”

Trinch nodded.

“It’s go time.”

###

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Fire chewed at the tents surrounding the still. Great flames of blue and orange belched out fat black clouds of smoke that obscured the ceiling. Heat rippled through the whole courtyard. Puddles of muck and slime steamed coils of nasty vapors.

What surprised Zoe the most, was that nobody cared.

They passed stalls where vendors sold goods to customers idly shopping or stealing their wares. They passed stalls where aliens lounged, their skin covered in burning sores, as they drank of what little fluid dripped from their brass pipes. Nobody cared about the fire, or the heat, or the sound of burning canvas.

The nonchalance, the passivity in the eyes of all they passed, chilled her. People glazed with the inevitability of life. They glanced up at her and the others in the grey mask and coveralls of the maintenance uniforms and looked away. They didn’t care. These were all people, aliens, more powerful than anyone on her planet… yet they seemed as insubstantial as ghosts.

When Zoe worked in the hospital, she had seen people die. She had seen beds of patients waiting for the weekend and knowing they wouldn’t see Friday. There is a taste to the air, in the back of the throat, something felt, when surrounded by…

Apathy is not the word, but it is a pale shadow, a cousin, of that more morbid finality.

She shuddered and let Oriz lead her by the hand toward where the guard stood by the entrance to the still. A ten-foot wall of solid stone surrounded the base of the brass mechanism. More blocks quarried from the ancient cities. Graffiti carved and painted into the sides made them a rainbow display of a dozen alien cultures. None of the images, none of the words, made any sense to Zoe except one phrase repeating itself: let dimensions burn.

The flames lit the words, made them dance, made them sink into Zoe’s mind. She felt her fingers flexing in the thick grey gloves of the maintenance suit. An urge to fight that wasn’t her own swept over her and passed as the fires flickered higher.

The guard stepped forward. She wore a horned helmet and simple leather clothes. Her face appeared human, but her legs were twisted and goatlike. A gruff voice spoke from her exposed midriff, where a second mouth split the skin of her stomach.

“The fire is in the second condenser. You better hurry.”

Oriz nodded and gestured for Princh, Trinch, and Crik to move through the gate into the distillery. Zoe noticed a stiffness in the way she acted but kept herself back as instructed. The others passed by, but she remained with Oriz.

“We’ll perform a check-up after we put out the fire,” Oriz held out her hand. “I need the vault door key.”

The guard shook his head.

“We’re supposed to ask Mr. Henry about using the key. Unless it’s an emergency.”

Oriz pointed at the burning still.

“What do you call that?”

“That’s only fire. I mean an actual emergency.”

“See those blue flames? Those are trans-dimensional. Even if the vault door is fine, the contents might not be. You want to explain to Mr. Henry why you didn’t let me do my job?”

The guard straightened up.

“Sir!”

“That’s better…”

Oriz trailed off as an insidious pressure washed over them all. Zoe’s every instinct screamed at her to run, but she fought them all and turned. Except she couldn’t turn her body.

She couldn’t move at all as a slender figure walked past her and stood beside Oriz and the saluting guard.

A pale human with long silver hair and a flowing silver robe. Perfect posture and beautiful in every way, except his eyes. Red and raw and weeping streaks of blood down his cheeks. A profound, and sinister sadness washed over Zoe at the sight. She felt herself choking up. Tears form behind the gray mask.

Miserable Henry, spreading his joy.

###

Oh no.

The thought cycled through Oriz’s head.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no…

Zoe stood behind her completely stiff. The weeping aura of Miserable Henry completely taking control. The guard was only slightly less affected. Hopefully, Zoe’s low level wouldn’t bring any attention to them.

She barely restrained a sigh. Nobody at such a low level should be so exposed to powerhouses like Trinch and Henry and Rue. How could she have a normal view of the universe? How could she have a normal life after they left their fingerprints on her?

Henry turned to face her with that half smile he always wore.

“It warms my troubled heart to see my maintenance workers so enthused to repair my still,” his smile trembled as he turned to the guard. “And I am double, nay, triple warmed to see my security so prepared to enforce the rules. Truly, this grand establishment stands upon the bedrock of such dedication.”

He wiped away a tear, though it was replaced by another. How did the bastard see at all? Oriz wished he would leave, but regretted the thought immediately.

Wishes never come true.

“Don’t worry, Albina,” Henry said to the guard. “I appreciate your reticence, but we must inspect the vault. However, I shall provide my own key for the endeavor.”

Oh no, oh no, oh no…

Henry reached into his silver robe and pulled out a long key carved from opal. A long red string tied his key to his belt and Henry fussed with the knot.

“I’m sorry,” he said with his small, apologetic smile, “this always happens. I tie it so tight because I can’t stand the thought of losing it, but every time I need to share it I can’t get it loose. Let me try… just one second longer…”

He continued to fuss at the knot while bright red tears dripped from his cheeks. Oriz felt a bead of sweat form at her neck and drip down her back. It was the first time she had sweated in decades.

“I don’t suppose you have a bladed technique?” he asked casually. “You could slice through the string.”

He held the string taut, but Oriz shook her head. If he saw [Path Breaking Blade] he would recognize her at once.

He shrugged and continued to fiddle. His expansive, depressing aura throbbed through her mind. She sniffed back a tear that wasn’t entirely forced.

Please…

She banished the thought before it concluded, but it was already too late.

Miserable Henry snapped his fingers.

“I know!” the key slid back into his robe. “I’ll accompany you on your maintenance. We can inspect my collection together, how does that sound?”

Oriz’s heart sank as she glanced at Zoe through the opaque grey mask. But she had to trust Trinch’s plan. He would get them through this ordeal. They would return to their home. She would see the sky once more.

“That sounds wonderful,” she said.

###

Miserable Henry relaxed his aura enough to allow Zoe to follow him and Oriz into the distillery. The wall of labyrinth stone further compounded the circular space, and when they entered it expanded. Zoe hopped across the threshold quickly this time to avoid any uncomfortable stretching of her flesh.

Oriz hadn’t spoken to her, or given any instructions, and so Zoe continued following.

What else could she do, when she was so out of her depth and surrounded by sharks?

They passed large vats of fermenting mash as they approached a monstrous thing of brass. All wheels and chambers and pipes. Several pots boiled at once, each a chamber as large as any tent beyond the wall, and all the evaporating vapors passed through pipes toward a single tower. Windows into the brass tower showed the ominous blue glow. From a distance, as a beacon, it had been welcoming.

Now Zoe saw only the glint of light upon a surgeon’s blade.

She wanted to be anywhere but here, but she followed Oriz, who followed Miserable Henry. On the other side of the still, the others used hoses to put out the fire. Trinch, ridiculous in his grey suit, stiffened at the sight of Henry, but when he approached after the fire was out he simply waved.

“Hello, sir,” Trinch disguised his voice. “We were about to begin the inspection and make sure the fire damaged nothing else.”

“Wonderful,” Miserable Henry’s smile trembled as he wept. “Let’s start with the vault.”