“What do we do?” Mirzayael hisses.

“Ventilation, first off,” I say, glancing around the cave. “More holes like the one we carved to get in here should help. But Carbon Dioxide sinks, so the real danger is down here at ground level.”

I could maybe get Ollie to stir the air up with his wings. I’ll also need to start taking more samples at different heights within the cavern. But that just addresses the CO2 problem—and it’s only a temporary solution. There’s still water to worry about—and food. How much does a dragon need to eat, anyway? Would all of Fyreneth’s Keep even have enough?

I groan, rubbing my forehead. Too many variables, and the equation keeps getting more complex.

Mirzayael puts a hand on my arm, causing me to startle. Her touch is smooth and cold. “We’ll figure it out,” she says.

“Yes. You’re right.” I comb my fingers through the feathers on my scalp, trying to calm myself. “One thing at a time.”

“Besides,” Mirzayael adds, tapping the floor with one of her feet. “At least you found your hot spring.”

“What?” I ask, looking down.

The ground is shimmering beneath us. I’d taken that to be the same stone in the crystal walls that was providing illumination for the whole room, but now that I’m looking closer, the light is wavering and rippling.

It’s running water.

“Oh!” I exclaim. “I can’t believe I missed it.” And surprised the Dungeon Core didn’t say anything, given its passive range is six feet in any direction. Suspiciously, I nudge the Core.

What! The Core wrinkles its nonexistent nose at the presence of the underground water. Liquids are gross. Hot springs are especially gross. They taste rotten.

I laugh in spite of myself. This is it! We found the springs. There has to be a way to get the flow reconnected to the Catacombs—or a way I can reroute the thermal springs to the Keep. Either way, that’s heat, water, and energy flowing into the community.

First, however, is the dragon problem.

I check my mana: [2/200]. Between the Psionic Link and widening the entrance to the cavern, I’m practically bone dry. If I want to carve new vents into this room, I’ll need more mana, and that will take hours to recover. Even then, I worry it won’t be enough.

“If you’ve got any ideas, I’m open to them,” I tell Mirzayael.

She pokes the tip of her spear at the ice, grunting in thought. “Maybe he could shoot more ice at the ground. Raise the level of the floor. That would get him higher up, closer to the hole.”

A good stopgap, perhaps. But even if we were able to widen the exit, it would need to be at least ten times the size for a dragon to fit through. Not to mention all the tunnels beyond that would equally need to be widened. And where would we go from there? The passageways throughout the cave system are all far too small for a dragon. He’d be able to fit inside areas of the Catacombs or Fyrneth’s Keep, but even then it would be cramped, and we’d just have the same problem all over again. Not enough room, not enough air, not enough food.

“We need to get him to the surface,” I say. That’s the only viable solution.

“How?” Mirzayael asks. “Can you carve a path with that Core of yours?”

“Given enough time, yes,” I say. “However I’m low on mana at this moment, and even if I weren’t I don’t have nearly enough to carve a dragon-sized hole all the way to the surface. Not to mention, I don’t even know how far we are beneath the surface. It’s impossible to tell.” My Map Interface displays a total depth of 1631 feet between the highest and lowest known locations I’ve explored—which happen to be the room I spawned in, and here, the room Ollie spawned in. But what if that high point is still far below ground?

Mirzayael shakes her head. “Not impossible. The room you lead me to, where you say you came from—that wasn’t far from the surface. There are a few known entry points in that area of the cave system. Perhaps another hundred feet above that room.”

“So close!” I exclaim. No wonder she suspected I’d come from the surface. “Then in total we may be less than half a mile below ground.” Better than I’d feared, but that still doesn’t bring us any closer to finding a solution—not unless we can guide Ollie to the best path toward the surface and let him tear and trash his way through the rock. But that might be just as dangerous to him as it could be to the city. What if all this disturbance causes another rock slide, like that one that injured Mirzayael? Or worse, a cave in.

I shake my head. “What I need is mana. Much, much more mana.”

“Hmm.” Mirzayael taps her feet against the ground in a drumming pattern as she thinks. The rhythmic movement of her seven legs is somewhat unnerving. “Beryl has the type of magic that can be used to pass mana between individuals. It’s a type of healing magic, I believe. But I doubt she has enough to support what you need.”

“The Dungeon Core can apparently absorb it from eating items imbued with magic,” I tell her. “We got a couple points from that cloud stone the Core ate. It also says there’s something called mana ore around here, but we’ve yet to find any in our explorations.”

“Oh?” Mirzayael perks up. “We’ve got some mana ore in town. Not a lot, but we’ve collected some stones over the years. They’re mostly reserved for emergencies.”

I think about the brumating dracid, and how desperate they are for any source of heat. “You haven’t used it all up by now?”

“They regenerate, as long as you don’t suck the pieces dry,” Mirayael says. “We think they passively absorb and retain mana from their surroundings. But it takes a long time to recharge—decades, depending on the size, so we have to be careful with them.”

“How much do you have?” I ask, excited.

She shrugs. “A couple dozen gems. Each is enough to start a bonfire, if we used all the mana they contain at once.”

A couple dozen bonfire’s worth of mana. Comparing that to my Blaze spell, I estimate it to be maybe a few thousand mana. I can’t know for sure without analyzing them directly, however. Damn, maybe we sent the scouts back too early; we could have asked them to bring the stones back with them.

But would two or three thousand mana be enough to burrow through a mile of solid rock? I close my eyes, accessing the Dungeon Core’s interface, reaching out through the Core’s area of influence to calculate how much mana it would take to eat through a few feet of the surrounding stone. If I can extrapolate that across half a mile of rock, I’ll get a good idea of how much total mana I’ll need for the entire tunnel. Let’s see, if the Core ate straight down, through the ice and water and rock, we’d come out to a loss of…

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

[Net Mana Gain: 11]

My eyes snap open. “Gain?!”

“What?” Mirzayael asks.

I shake my head, skimming through the results of my analysis.

[Ice Consumption: – 153 mana]

[Spring Water Consumption: + 319 mana]

[Limestone Consumption: – 155 mana]

A net gain for consuming the water? But why? Echo, what’s going on with the springs? I ask.

[Check: The water in the underground spring has become infused with mana over the centuries due to prolonged exposure to mana ore.]

“That’s it,” I say, excitedly dropping to my knees, placing a hand over the icy ground. “The spring. It’s full of magic.” And no wonder the pipe system was so prevalent throughout the Catacombs. The water itself was a source of the kingdom’s energy.

“Interesting,” Mirzayael says. “We’ve always considered the waters in the caverns to have healing attributes, and the stories say the waters of Fyreneth’s Fortress were capable of miracles. I never thought they literally contained mana, however.”

Healing properties would make sense if the waters were infused with magic. But more than just healing, they could have acted as a source for any kind of magic. Perhaps even used to power the city back in its heyday. Either way, tracing the spring back to its source should also lead me back to some mana ore.

This also means I effectively have an unlimited source of mana. Well, not literally, but at least for digging a tunnel…

“We can do this,” I say, my heart lighting with hope once more. “With the water here to draw on as a source, the Dungeon Core should have more than enough power to carve an exit. So long as we’re careful to not disrupt the rest of the cave system, there’s a way out.”

Isn’t that right? I excitedly ask the Core.

Surprisingly, however, it doesn’t return my enthusiasm. I’m presented with a very potent mental impression of a gag.

Chewing tons of stone sounds delicious, but consuming all that rotten water is terrible! It will get sick!

You can’t get sick.

It will feel so sick!

Do you even know what that feels like?

The Core is offended. Okay maybe it does not understand but it really really doesn’t like the taste of the rotten-egg water.

Enough that you’ll turn your nose up at all this mana? I ask, skeptical. I thought gaining more mana was your entire personality.

The Dungeon Core doesn’t understand what I mean but decides to feel offended anyway.

I sigh. If you do this, it will be a brief amount of rotten-egg taste now, but an incredible amount of mana to spend later. I don’t suppose you understand the concept of delayed gratification?

The Dungeon Core responds to this new concept with the mental equivalent of radio static.

“Or maybe not,” I mumble, turning to Mirzayael. “Convincing the Dungeon Core is proving harder than I expected.”

“Convince it?” she repeats. “It answers to you. Can’t you make it?”

I hesitate. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried to force it to do anything. Isn’t that a bit… cruel?”

Mirzayael steeples her fingers over the blunt end of her spear and rests her chin on her hands. “It’s a tool, isn’t it? You can’t be cruel to something that isn’t alive.”

Isn’t it alive? I guess not, according to Echo; she’d said as much when I first discovered it. However, even if it doesn’t meet the classification of life, it’s certainly sapient. Just, not in a way I’ve ever encountered. But it has a will. Desires. Personality. If nothing else, that should count as artificial life, shouldn’t it?

I shake my head. “I don’t like that reasoning. I’ll find some way to convince it.”

Mirzayael shrugs. “Suit yourself. In the meantime, we can try to find some other solution for the dragon situation. But if it comes down to it, making a decision between Ollie’s life and that rock’s autonomy—well, the choice seems obvious to me.”

She steps away to go rescue Nek, who’s managed to fend off Ollie’s attempts to pet the cat-man with claws as long as Nek’s arms.

I frown, looking back down at the running water beneath the ice. It really would be to your benefit, I halfheartedly tell the Dungeon Core. But it’s too much like a child, too motivated by instant gratification, to understand my point.

I glance over at Ollie. He might look like a murderous beast, but the voice he uses to speak into my mind is just like any seven-year old. It makes me think of Caroline—no longer a child, to be sure, but always my daughter. What is she doing now? Does she mourn me? Does she even know I died?

My heart aches at the thought, and I box the feelings carefully away. I need a clear head right now. This child’s life is on the line.

“Is everyone acquainted?” I ask, wandering back over to the others.

“I suppose as much as we can be, considering we can’t communicate,” Mirzayael says.

“THE CAT MAN IS SO FURRY!” Ollie excitedly reports. “I HAVE A KITTEN BACK HOME. HIS NAME IS PEANUTS. DO YOU THINK I’LL BE ABLE TO GO BACK AND SEE HIM AGAIN? OR MAYBE WE CAN BRING HIM HERE!”

I wince. He still doesn’t understand all this is very likely permanent. “First we need to focus on getting you out of this cave,” I say instead. “And then we can worry about getting you some food.”

“FOOD!” Ollie cries, and I flinch. “OH YES, I AM SO HUNGRY! I COULD EAT A WHOLE HORSE.” In my head, his voice giggles. Externally, the dragon huffs out several loud growls. “DO YOU THINK I COULD ACTUALLY EAT A HORSE? GROSS!”

“We’ll… figure that out when we find one,” I say, raising my eyebrows at Mirzayael. “Or whatever other animals live around here. Ah… I don’t suppose you know what ice dragons eat?”

She gives a helpless shrug. “I’d never met one before today.”

Oh boy. Well, another obstacle to deal with later.

“DO THEY HAVE ICE CREAM HERE?” Ollie asks. “OH! OH! DO YOU THINK I COULD MAKE ICE CREAM? ECHO SAYS I CAN MAKE ICE! I BET I COULD AT LEAST MAKE SNOW CONES. WHAT DO YOU THINK?”

“Sounds like a good thing to practice,” I say, trailing off with the last word. Kids do like their desserts, don’t they? They can be pretty food motivated. What else motivates kids? What motivated Caroline?

Sure I can’t convince you with some tasty mana? I ask the Dungeon Core again. It would be a lot easier if you ate your vegetables first, then had tons and tons of tasty mana at the end.

The Core is completely confused by the mention of vegetables here, and reiterates its desire for mana, but equal and vehement dislike of the sulfur water.

Ah, well, I say, reluctantly beginning to think that Mirzayael had the right idea all along. If you won’t choose the carrot…

“Hey, Ollie, can I get your help with something?” I ask.

The dragon hops to his feet, tail swishing and wings fluttering. Mirzayael and Nek scramble back. “WHAT CAN I DO?”

“Over here.” I lead him to where the running water can be seen through the ice. “Can you break through this for me?”

“OF COURSE I CAN!” Ollie declares. “BUT THE WATER UNDER THERE SMELLS TERRIBLE AND TASTES EVEN WORSE. BLECH! THAT’S WHY I COVERED IT UP WITH ICE IN THE FIRST PLACE.”

If the Core could hear him, I’m sure it would agree.

“That’s alright,” I say. “The water might be a bit sulfuric, but it’s also a bit magical. I’ll need access to it in order to get you out of here.”

“WELL, ALRIGHT THEN,” Ollie says. “I’M GOING TO SMASH IT!” He rears back.

“Watch out!” I call to the others, hurrying back myself. “Ollie, hold on until—”

The dragon smashes his claws into the ground. Chips of ice go flying in every direction, and I raise a defensive wing to block stray flecks from stabbing into my face. The whole cavern shakes with the concussive blasts, and several more stalactites break from the ceiling and come crashing down around us.

“Ollie!” I call again. “Hold on, stop!”

Mirzayael and Nek are also yelling at him, but the dragon is so absorbed in his task with scratching and slamming his claws into the ground that he doesn’t seem to notice. After a minute of Ollie clawing up the ice and us dodging near-death experiences, he finally stops.

“I DID IT!” he happily reports.

My heart is practically beating out of my chest. “Yes, yes it seems you did.” I swallow, giving his nose a pat. “Great job.”

Ollie smiles, which looks downright terrifying.

“Well, that was… something,” Mirzayael says, hesitantly following me over to the hole in the ice. “Now what’s your plan?”

A sulfuric smell—much like rotten eggs, as the Dungeon Core so aptly put it—wafts from the opening. The ice goes about a meter down, and the water appears at least twice as deep. Luckily, it doesn’t seem to be flowing very fast.

I glance down at my wrist and give the Core a half-hearted tug. Still securely stuck to my wrist and not going anywhere. Which leaves me just one option.

Echo, what’s the temperature of that water? I ask.

[60 degrees centigrade.]

A touch on the high end. Good thing I have fire and heat resistance. I grab the lip of the hole and dangle my legs over.

“Now…” I say, lowering my feet in. It feels warm, but not hot. Good. “Now, it’s bath time.”

I jump down into the springs. My hands hit the water.

The Dungeon Core screams.