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Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

It was six months of travel before they came to the Blasted Wastes. They rode along the edge of the Elethorn Sea, passing through the Beachspring Forest with its lanky trees, whose leaves glowed incandescent shades of ruby and fuchsia.

As they journeyed, they each continued to foster their connection with the Aether. Charlie most often in silent meditation, Sam through relentless drills, while Nate buried his nose in the copy of ‘Sarzon Gazguth’s Essential Guide to the Grammar and Diction of the Ancients.’

They traversed the Bolderbridge Mountains, low and squat. An easy task compared to their expedition through the Spine of the World.

On Hicket’s advice, they rode north, bypassing the Mirelock Swamp, which he warned overflowed with unholy abominations. Crossing the Thundering Plateau, they could see the Lifeless Mountains ahead.

“These mountains mark the edge of the Blasted Wastes” Hicket explained. “The dead lands where the black star Nihilus fell to earth, creating the shattered sea.”

The mountains were enormously tall and steep, as if a tremendous force had blown the rock perpendicular to the ground. If Hicket’s description was accurate, it might have been the edge of a crater from some ancient meteor impact.

Nate examined their map. “Wouldn’t it be faster if we headed directly to the Decaying Temple?”

“Aye, it would be faster,” Hicket said, not hiding the disdain in his voice. As they journeyed together, Hicket had grown increasingly churlish and condescending. “But it would also mean certain death. There are things wandering the blasted wastes, neither living nor dead. They know only hunger and pain. Gri and I could survive the journey, but I have little doubt the three of you would perish.”

He traced his finger along the edge of the mountains, which curved in a circular shape around the shattered sea. “Better to pass along the edge of the mountains, then double back and head southwest. It is more miles, but the less time spent in those cursed lands, the better.”

Nate rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We’ve been on this journey so long, I worry what may have happened in our absence. I think-“

“When I care what a page thinks, I will ask him,” Hicket said. He whistled and spurred his clacker north.

“Did he just call me a page?” Nate said to Sam.

“Yes. It’s an important job, Nate.”

“But I-“

“Pages are for assisting noble knights like myself,” Sam cut him off.

“Right…”

“And doing my laundry.”

“Okay…”

“And cutting my toenails.”

“Um…”

“Buying me presents.”

Nate pursed his lips. “I can’t figure out why Hicket hates me so much. I’ve tried everything I can think of to get him to like me.”

“Have you tried just being yourself?” Charlie asked. “My mom says that’s the best way to get people to like you.”

“Wow, that’s terrible advice. Most people don’t like me. I don’t even like me.”

Sam grinned. “Maybe you guys should kiss and get it over with. Clearly you have repressed sexual feelings for each other that you’re channeling into hostility.”

“Bit hypocritical, don’t you think?” Charlie shot back. Sam blushed.

Nate sighed. “I’m so glad I have friends to depend on in difficult times.” He clicked, and Garthim sprinted forward.

It was several more weeks’ journey along the rim of the crater before they finally turned south. Their clackers struggled to clamber up the sheer cliff walls of the Lifeless Mountains. They had to practically hang from the back of their mounts, gripping the edges of their shells like a rock climber to avoid falling to their deaths.

The range was eerily silent; no birds sang, no small animals scurrying through underbrush. In fact, no vegetation of any kind grew here - just steep, sharp rock.

As they crested the mountains, the view caused even Charlie to give pause. The ruddy brown stone had been scorched an ugly jagged black with streaks of silvered gray that glittered in the afternoon sun.

The mountain face had a texture akin to a marshmallow that had been thrown into a fire pit and left to balloon and blacken. Blisters had appeared and popped, pitting the stone.

The mountains descended to a bowl-shaped moor; the Blasted Wastes. All was still - silent, as if the whole world was holding its breath. They could see the twisted, blackened remains of what resembled trees in the distance, but nothing grew here. All was black and molten.

The air smelled savage and acrid, like the long dead remnants of a bonfire. There was an oppressive atmosphere, one difficult to explain, like the air was filled with menace. The sky was blue, but a blasphemous haze distorted and dulled the color.

Even the sounds they made were warped by the very air, dulled and thickened as if passing through water before reaching their ears. This was an unholy place. Nate could understand why Hicket was loath to enter it.

At the center of the enormous crater was the Shattered Sea, an ugly gray swell whose waves broke against the volcanic beach. There was no wind, yet the waves grew wildly, some surging twenty feet as if churned by some invisible force deep within the water.

At the very center of the sea was a tall, black island, jagged and ugly. Long spears of twisting stone stabbed thousands of feet into the air. Though decidedly a natural rock formation, it gave the impression of a tremendous, evil castle, its calamitous towers scraping at the hazy sky.

Their descent was equally terrifying, though the jagged rocks gave their clackers more sure footing. It was somehow worse having the deadly drop ahead of them, rather than at their backs.

Hicket would not allow them to camp, insisting they ride both day and night. They took turns sleeping on the backs of their clackers, a sleep which was neither restful nor serene.

The jagged, burned mountains gave way to an obsidian sand so fine it left a lingering, dusty stain on any skin that touched it. Every few hours, the ground would lurch and rumble as an earthquake roiled through the land, sending a ring through the sand like the ripple a dropped stone leaves in a pond. The black dust would inevitably blind them and send them into coughing fits.

They passed blackened trees, their branches burned and bent away from where the meteor had hit, the wood and bark turned to charcoal. There were mounds that may have once been buildings, vaguely home-shaped collections of scoria and cinders. Nate avoided thinking too much about the smaller mounds found around these homes, which may or may not have been their inhabitants.

By the sixth day, bleary eyed and weak, a colossal tower loomed ahead. It sat crooked, its walls stained the same grotesque black as their surroundings. They were running low on water, and the soot that now seemed to cover every inch of their bodies did little to relieve their thirst.

The tower appeared half-sunken into the earth, and lilted heavily to the east. The ground surrounding the citadel had been turned into solid dross, as if the sands around it had been exposed to tremendous heat, melting the sand into slag before it cooled and solidified.

“What could have done this?” Nate asked, as they dismounted their clackers. He ran his hand along the smooth stone, which resembled saltwater taffy still in the process of being pulled into long ropes.

“Does it matter?” Hicket said, tying his clacker to a scorched tree nearby.

“Might help us know what to expect inside,” Nate muttered as he tied Garthim to the same tree.

“Only thing Gri know could do this be dragon fire,” Gri said as she helped Charlie tie Neekerbreek and Hedorah to the same location. Their clackers clicked affectionately as they patted their long horns.

Circling around the sunken tower, they found a sizable window about ten feet off the ground on the west side. Gri pulled a length of rope and a metal hook from her pack. After a few spins at her side, she sent the hook sailing expertly through the air, where it caught the lip of the window.

“I’ll go first,” Hicket said, shoving Gri out of his way. He climbed rapidly up the rope, using only his thick arms, while his legs hung loose before disappearing into the tower.

Sam went next, climbing easily up the rope at a speed that nearly matched Hicket, though she twined her legs around the rope as she ascended.

“It’s seventh grade gym class all over again,” Charlie said, gripping the rope with some uncertainty. Drying his hands on his tunic, he grunted loudly and began to climb.

His face reddened from the effort, but he only managed to get a few feet in the air before he let go, gasping and coughing.

“Impressive.”

“Yeah, well…” Charlie panted. “Let’s see you do better.”

“Watch me,” Nate said. He grabbed the thick rope, and pulled himself up. He wrapped the rope around his leg, letting it tighten around his calf muscle as he slid his hands up. He resembled an awkward inch worm, but eventually he made it to the top and disappeared inside.

“Perfect,” Charlie muttered.

Nate’s head popped back out of the window. “See? Easy-peasy.”

“Cool, I’ll be right there,” Charlie shouted, sounding far surer of himself than he felt. Once again, he tried to pull himself up. The ropes bit into his hands, and his muscles burned. He made even less progress this time, before dropping back to the ground.

He felt Gri’s thick hand on his shoulder.

“Oh, hey, Gri. Yeah, the rope is like, slippery or something. I can’t seem to-”

Gri hoisted Charlie like a parent would pick up their fussy toddler, his butt resting on her forearm, his legs slung to either side of her torso.

“Hey! What are you doing, I can-”

Gri pulled on the rope with her free arm and, using a technique similar to Nate’s, bore both of them rapidly up the rope. Charlie grasped the lip of the window, and she helped push him over the top, where he fell heavily to the ground.

Gri then hopped easily through the window and helped him to his feet.

The room was covered in a thin layer of ash and grime. It had once been an elegant bedroom, an enormous bed with a pavilion sat against the far wall, and the domed ceiling arched high over their heads.

Several pieces of furniture lay toppled on their sides, their contents mostly clothes, which spilled across a floor that tilted heavily toward the window they had climbed through.

Hicket lit a torch and drew his enormous blade. They all did the same, except Gri, who stayed uncomfortably close to Charlie, her great axe hefted in both hands.

Hicket approached the door along the south wall, and pressed his ear to it.

“Do you hear anything?” Nate asked.

“Only the sound of a fool talking.”

Hicket pushed the door open, revealing a long hallway. The soot was replaced with thick dust, as if this place had sat undisturbed for millennia. The floor had the remnants of a moldy carpet that crunched and crumbled under their feet. Several tall candelabras, covered in cobwebs, lined the fifty-foot hallway, where four doors appeared on either side at regular intervals.

Hicket walked to a doorway, and gingerly opened it. “Another bedroom,” he whispered.

“Is the plan to go door-to-door through the entire tower?” Charlie asked.

“What would you suggest we do?” Hicket said, continuing down the hall.

“Well, this is a keep of some kind, yes? Wouldn’t the artifact of unimaginable power be kept in a treasury?”

Hicket thought for a moment, and nodded. “And the treasury is likely to be in the lower levels, at the center of the tower.”

“So we need to find a stairway down, which isn’t likely to be along the outside. I think we can ignore the outer doors.”

Hicket hefted his sword over his shoulder, so the blade rested across the back of his neck. “Very well, lead on, oh prophesied one.”

Charlie licked his dry lips, and strode with feigned confidence down the hallway. His foot sunk into the carpet, and he heard a loud series of mechanical clicks and thunks. The sound ran from the pressure plate up the wall, to the ceiling.

A small panel appeared in the varnished wood overhead, and receded, leaving a square black hole. Charlie stepped backwards a few paces, and stared up.

A bee’s nest dropped to the ground and exploded, spraying an angry swarm of bees everywhere. Charlie shouted and began flailing around like a madman as the insects stung, leaving angry welts on his face and neck.

Gri swung her axe from side to side, which made a plunking sound not unlike a heavy rain as she smashed the insects with the flat of her weapon.

Nate stepped forward, and flicked his wrist while whispering an incantation. He then blew across the flame of his torch, which spit an enormous cone of flame down the hall. The bees’ wings scorched and wilted, and they dropped heavily to the floor where they scrambled angrily, their now-useless wings flapping and buzzing in a vain attempt to fly.

“Was that some kind of trap?” Charlie asked as they began stomping on the bugs, which crunched in a disturbingly satisfying way beneath their boots.

“Sure seems like it,” Nate said.

“I appreciate you leaving out the ‘booby’ from your sentence,” Sam grinned.

“I’m nothing if not a gentlemen,” Charlie said, wincing as he pulled one of the stingers out of the back of his left hand. “It makes no sense, though. Why put a booby trap in the middle of a hallway by your sleeping quarters?”

Nate shrugged. “Maybe these bedrooms were home to some important people or something?” He crushed another bug. “It’s not like it really matters, since-“

As Nate stomped on another insect, another pressure plate clicked into place. The same series of sounds issued from the floor, wall, and finally ceiling.

“Dang it!” Nate cursed as they all stepped back. He held his torch aloft and prepared the same incantation.

A much larger panel opened in the ceiling, and the long dead corpse of a bear rattled to the ground in a puff of dust and bones.

They stared at the carcass for some time, concerned that it might spring to life and attack them. Finally, Gri approached the body and prodded it with her axe.

“Bear dead long time,” she said.

Sam approached the remains. “Looks like maybe they forgot to feed it?”

Charlie snorted.

“What?”

“It was a bear trap.”

Sam rolled her eyes.

They gave the body wide berth as they continued down the hall, Charlie now staring up at the ceiling in paranoia with each step.

He approached the sole door on the right, which led deeper into the tower. Gingerly, he turned the handle. As he slowly pushed, the hallway was bathed in an eerie blue light.

The walls of the room were lined with complex looking machines that whirred and clicked and thrummed with magical energy. Nate couldn’t quite tell if they were more technological or magical. They appeared to be some bizarre miscegenation of the two.

From walls, long black tubes ran along both the ceiling and the floor, and fed into a huge central crystal globe. The outer wall was translucent, and several inches thick. Inside the sphere, a brilliant blue liquid that resembled one of the unholy flavors of soda that Charlie abused his body with regularly, sloshed and bubbled.

Floating in the tank, suspended in the center of the glowing liquid, was a delicate looking woman. She wore loosely-fitting, white robes that clung to her body as the magical elixir flowed around her form. Her eyes were open, but she remained perfectly still, unblinking. Her limbs and long hair lazily drifted around her body.

“Who is that?” Sam asked.

“I… How on earth would I know that?” Charlie said as he stared at the woman. He pressed his hand against the crystal surface. It made his fingers tingle as if it were giving off a mild electrical current.

“There is nothing for us here,” Hicket said. “We should keep moving.”

“What about her?” Charlie asked.

“Alive or dead, she is immaterial to our quest.”

“Shouldn’t we try to help her?”

Nate put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Doesn’t seem like the smart move. For all we know, she could be some evil super villain.”

Sam, Hicket, and Gri had already returned to the hallway.

“She could also be the innocent victim of some mad wizard’s scheme.”

“Sure, but let’s say we hypothetically figured out how to free her from this contraption without killing her in the process. And then, hypothetically she’s a good guy and not some demon or something. Then what? Stop our quest for six weeks to take her to the nearest village? Or force her to continue deeper into the tower with us, where she could be killed?”

Charlie pursed his lips. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I usually am,” Nate said as he returned to the hallway.

Charlie lingered, his hand on the crystal. Intellectually, he knew Nate was right. But that didn’t make leaving her imprisoned feel any less crummy. He sighed and turned to leave.

His legs tangled with the tubes and wires that ran across the floor, sending him sprawling.

“You okay?” Nate called from the hallway.

“Yeah, fine. I just tripped.” Charlie kicked his leg free of the wires and tubes that had snaked around his left ankle.

He heard the sound of water spattering on the ground. He had accidentally yanked one of the tubes off of the central globe, which now leaked the incandescent blue liquid to the floor.

He rushed over to the globe, and desperately tried to stop the flow.

“Dude, what are you doing in there?” Sam called from the hallway.

“I’m… uh…” Charlie scrambled, using his hands to try and stop the blue liquid that continued to spill onto the floor. “I’m peeing.”

“Gross!”

“Well, hurry up,” Nate added. “Hicket looks like he’s going to slap someone.”

“Okay,” Charlie said, trying unsuccessfully to hide the growing panic in his voice. He grabbed the end of the tube that had come free, and jammed it onto the nozzle where the liquid spouted. It immediately popped off and sprayed him directly in the crotch.

Charlie cursed under his breath, as he blocked the spray with the palm of one hand while he grabbed the tube a second time. He drove the hose back onto the nozzle more forcefully, twisting it to slide it deeper.

The leak stopped. Charlie carefully released the tube, and watched nervously for any sign of seepage.

His repair job held. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was a mess, his clothes drenched with the odd elixir. He couldn’t go out there like this.

He rummaged through his pack for fresh clothes. He glanced up at the crystal globe. A noticeable amount of liquid had drained, leaving about a two-foot gap of air at the top of the tank. The woman now floated face down, her wet hair clung to the back of her head before fanning out along the liquid surface.

“Duuuuuuuuuuude,” Sam whined.

“One sec,” Charlie shouted. “Almost done.” Charlie quickly removed his clothing, wringing out the blue fluid as best he could.

Sam poked her head through the door and yelped, ducking back into the hallway. “Charlie? Why are you naked?”

“Um…” Charlie thought. “I…” His mind scrambled to think of any possible excuse other than he peed his pants. “Um…”

He heard Nate having a whispered conversation with Sam.

“Look, don’t make fun of him, but he wet the bed for, like, way longer than normal.”

“Really? Like, how long?”

“Like, upsettingly long. Trust me.”

“Yeesh.”

“Yeah. Sleepovers were a bit of a nightmare.”

“But he grew out of it?”

“I thought so. But now I’m a lot more nervous about sharing a tent with him.”

Charlie’s face flushed. Flustered, he began to dress as quickly as he could, though that seemed to make it take even longer as he fumbled with the complex buckles on his armor. “I was just - my clothes were dirty and I felt gross, so I thought since I was peeing anyway, I might as well change, you know?”

“Uh… yeah, cool, man,” Nate shouted back.

“Yeah, that sounds like a totally reasonable thing to do,” Sam added a little too hastily. “No worries, just, you know, come out when you’re all cleaned up.”

Charlie yanked the rest of his armor on. As he bent to pick up his pack, he nearly jumped out of his skin. The woman in the tank now stared at him, her face twisted in a dreadful, nefarious grin.

She dove under the water and stared at him, her mouth contorted and curled beyond their physical bounds. Charlie felt a deep despair and terror slowly building in his stomach. The woman’s eyes glowed with the same indescribable color they had encountered at the Forbidden Library.

She slowly gestured with a single finger for him to approach. Her other hand ran down the curves of her body in a way that was clearly intended to be seductive, but was the stuff of nightmares.

“Nope.” Charlie grabbed his pack, and without a single backward glance, exited the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. He leaned his back against the door, his breathing labored and his face soaked in sweat.

“You uh…” Nate said. “Everything okay?” He touched Charlie’s shoulder, which made Charlie jump.

“Huh?” Charlie said, looking at Nate as if he were surprised he existed.

“You cool, man?”

Charlie laughed nervously. “Yeah, totally. Like I said, just had to pee, and get changed.”

Sam put her hand on his other shoulder. “That’s great, Charlie. We totally believe you.” She winked at Nate, who shook his head.

“Let’s keep moving,” Charlie said, pushing past his friends.

At the far end of the hallway was a door. As Charlie approached it, yet another pressure plate sunk into the floor under his boot.

“Oh, come ON!”

The whirs and clicks from this trap were significantly louder. A thrumming sound echoed through the building around them.

The entire floor slid open in front of the doorway, revealing a steep, stone chute. They scrambled back hastily from the opening.

“Was that supposed to make us fall?” Sam asked. “Seems easy enough to avoid, all we had to do was step away from-” She didn’t get to finish her sentence. The entire floor beneath them lurched as the floor sprung upward behind them, launching them headfirst into the chute.

Down they slid across smooth stone. Hicket and Gri scrambled and clawed to try and find purchase on the slide, but to no avail; the polished stones were so tightly laid that they could only see the faintest of seams.

They fell through twisting and winding tunnels that disoriented them for what seemed like hours. Their screams eventually died as the terror subsided into a resigned apathy. The slide ended abruptly.

They torpedoed out of a hole near the ceiling of a room, somewhere deep inside the tower. With loud grunts and yelps, they crashed into a tangled pile of limbs on a cool stone floor.

“Perfect,” Hicket said as he climbed to his feet.

“Everyone okay?” Nate asked as he poked at his tenderized ribs.

“We’re lost, I’m thirsty, I’m hungry, I’ve got bee stings all over my face, and your bony butt just landed in the middle of my back,” Charlie griped. “But other than that, I’m great.”

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

“I’ve always loved your optimism and sunny disposition,” Sam said, stretching painfully.

“Why would you set this kind of trap?” Charlie said bitterly. “On the off-chance that someone climbs through an upper story window and sneaks out into the hallway? It seems like, for every time a thief gets caught on your death-slide-of-fun, you would absentmindedly trigger the trap yourself a hundred times.”

“Who cares?”

“I care! I’m not trying to be pedantic here, but whoever designed this dungeon clearly didn’t apply any logical consistency.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to write them a strongly worded letter when we get out of here,” Sam said.

Nate relit his torch and examined the vast circular chamber they found themselves in. It was made of rough-hewn stones, and on the wall opposite to the hole they had fallen out of there were two tunnel openings, not quite as tall as they were. They would have to hunch slightly to continue.

Nate shone his torch down each tunnel, which curved off and out of sight in opposite directions. “Left or right?”

“When in doubt, go left,” Sam said.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Nate shrugged, and led them down the left tunnel. The air was stuffy and smelled of mushrooms and sod. The tunnel wound left, then switched back to the right. Nate’s eyes darted across the floor, scanning for more hidden pressure plates or trip wires.

The tunnel widened, and abruptly ended. Nate could see a series of metal rings that had been pounded into the smooth stone wall where the tunnel ended, and as he approached, he realized the tunnel continued straight upward.

The metal rings formed a crude sort of ladder, which led to a wooden trap door about fifty feet above them.

“Who wants to go first?” he asked, gaping straight up.

Gri pushed past Charlie and Sam. “Gri go first. In case need break door.”

She ascended easily, while the rest followed behind her. Sam tried rather unsuccessfully not to stare at Nate’s backside as he climbed ahead of her. He’d gotten significantly more muscular during their journey.

She still hadn’t quite gotten over how he had saved her life. How he had become something so terrifying and terrible and beautiful all at once, and had saved her from certain doom. He hadn’t reacted that way the countless times Charlie had nearly died.

Or even when his own life was in danger.

She pushed aside all the complicated feelings and refocused on the task at hand. He glanced back at her, and smiled that perfectly crooked smile of his. She noticed him glancing at her cleavage, and, for the first time, didn’t particularly mind.

Gri reached the trap door and pushed it easily open. They climbed into the chamber above.

The room was quite expansive, some thirty feet across and twice as tall. The walls were made of smooth metal that had been polished to near mirror-like perfection, which swooped inward, then gently curved to meet at a smooth dome.

Hanging from the center of the ceiling was a long, thick, metal chain that hung just out of reach if they stretched their hands towards it. At the end of the chain was a smooth, golden ball about a foot in diameter.

The smooth walls had no sign of doors or openings.

“Now what?” Hicket said, as he ran his hand along the outer wall, feeling for any sort of seam. He stopped and banged the pummel of his sword against the wall, and it rang out softly like a gong. “What is this place?”

Nate stared up at the ceiling. “It’s a bell.”

“A bell?” Sam said.

Nate nodded. “Look, it’s like we’re under a bell. There’s even the ball ringer thingy.”

“Ball ringer thingy? Is that the technical term for it?”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

Charlie stood directly beneath the chained ball, staring up at it. He jumped up and awkwardly swatted at it, barely grazing it with the tips of his fingers.

The ball moved slightly. He studied it for a moment. As if under its own power, it began to swing more and more.

“Uh… guys?” Charlie said, a growing concern rising in his voice as the ball now swung several feet back and forth, picking up momentum as it went.

“What did you do?” Nate asked as the pendulum now swung with increased speed.

“All I did was touch it.”

“And what did we say about touching random things?” Sam frowned at him.

The ball swung more and more wildly. They held their breath as it nearly made contact with the outer wall. With a loud whoosh, it flew over their heads and hit the opposite wall.

The sound was deafening. They reflexively covered their ears as their bones rattled. Again the ball swung, and another peel rang out.

“How do we make it stop?” Nate shouted, his hands clasped tightly to his ears. He was beginning to feel sick and his head hurt.

“Who knows?” Sam shouted back. Or at least, Nate thought that was what she said. It was impossible to hear anything other than the ear-splitting toll of the bell.

After a six loud rings, the ball began to lose momentum. As it slowly stopped, Nate tentatively removed his hands from his ears. He could hear a high pitched whine, and everyone sounded muffled.

“Let’s not do that again,” Hicket said, shaking his head and tapping his palm against his temple. “I’m guessing we lost the element of surprise.”

“Sorry about that,” Charlie said sheepishly.

“Look!” Sam shouted far louder than she realized. “The walls!”

A sliver of the bell had split open, revealing an inky-black opening.

“I guess we can leave at least,” Nate said, heading towards the opening. He stopped short as a loud, slavering roar burst from the opening and reverberated off the walls.

They drew their weapons as a series of snaps and snarls issued from what sounded like a pack of rabid dogs.

The beasts began to bark, though it was an oddly human sound, like an old man attempting to mimic a dog’s bark, but who was instead shouting “Bob!” over and over.

Four utterly bizarre creatures burst into the room. Their bodies resembled the oversized head of a bearded man, its enormous jaws lined with wicked rows of teeth as long as Nate’s forearm, with two larger, curved fangs. The creature had two giant ears with thick brass ring piercings, and two enormous eyes that rolled wildly as it ran. It had no eyelids, and its gray mottled skin was furrowed and blistered.

Four thick, dog-like legs sprung from beneath where its neck should have been. They loped and bounded across the room, snapping and spraying thick gobs of spittle as they ran. “Bob! Bob!” the heads shouted in a thoroughly disconcerting way.

“What the heck are those!” Sam shouted as she stabbed at one with her spear. It snarled and yelped as she caught its hind leg, slicing a neat gash along its thigh muscle.

“Who knows,” Charlie grunted as one of the beasts dove at him, nearly catching his arm in its mouth. He managed to sidestep the attack, but the creature’s heavy body clipped his side, and sent him sprawling.

Another of the creatures pounced, grabbing his backpack with its teeth, violently shaking him like a dog toy.

“Charlie, are you playing with it, or trying to kill it?” Sam asked.

Gri roared and charged. She slammed her shoulder into the monster’s side. Several bones loudly cracked as she sent it flying across the room. It whined and whimpered and struggled to stand.

Gri’s axe split its forehead open before it could regain its footing. With a loud yelp and a choked gurgle, it flopped to the ground. An enormous blue tongue lolled out of its mouth as it fell still.

“One Bob down, three to go,” Nate said as he weaved a spell, summoning a half circle of flame, driving two of the beasts toward Hicket.

Hicket swung his enormous sword, chopping the two front legs off of one of the Bobs as it scrambled past him. Twisting the blade high overhead, he plunged it straight down between the creature’s unblinking eyes.

Its legs twitched and scraped, its eyes rolled violently, and its mouth gasped and barked weakly until it fell still.

“Bob! Bob!” One of the remaining beasts bounded off the curved wall and charged Sam. She dropped low, and expertly thrust her spear up into its open mouth, splitting the hard palate and tearing through the soft brain matter on the other side.

The creature’s momentum carried it forward, and Sam pivoted, bracing the end of her spear on the inside of her foot, causing the Bob to be catapulted over her head. It sailed across the room, crashing heavily into Nate.

“Shoot!” Sam said, smirking. “Sorry!”

“Isfine,” Nate grunted under the weight of the creature. Charlie helped him push the beast’s considerable weight off of his body.

The remaining beast backed slowly away from them, growling and barking. “Bob! Bob! Bob!”

From across the room, Hicket hefted his sword with both hands behind his back and, with an overhead motion, threw the blade spinning across the room.

It caught the Bob square on the side, nearly cutting it in half, slamming it into the side of the bell with the sound of a gong.

Yanking his weapon free from the corpse, Hicket walked to the opening, peering out into the darkness. “Let’s move, before more of those things come.”

The opening led to another tunnel that branched and looped. These tunnels seemed like a naturally occurring system of long caves, the walls jagged and uneven. Long, sharp stalactites and stalagmites were scattered across the floor and ceiling.

“I always forget, which one are the ones that hang from the ceiling, and which ones are the ones on the floor?” Charlie said as he poked a particularly large stone jutting out of the floor.

“Easy. Just remember the simple rhyme I learned in elementary school,” Sam said. “Stalagmites might hang from the ceiling. But they don’t.”

“That’s the stupidest rhyme I’ve ever heard. And my mom once made me take a poetry class at the learning annex.”

“That’s the point. Like you, it’s so stupid it becomes memorable.”

The flat shafts became an increasingly complex tangle of twists and turns and branches. Several times, they had to backtrack when a particular shaft would dead end. It was a frustrating and slow process, made all the more miserable by the constant squeaking of bats above them, and the layer of bat guano that covered most of the ground.

Nate had always hated when his friends insisted on doing the hay-bale maze at the Renaissance Festival, and this was no different. His attention span simply wouldn’t hold for him to meticulously track which direction they had come, and before long, he would be hopelessly lost, certain he had walked down the same path six or seven times.

Sam’s skin began to burn. It was subtle at first, like an itching sensation around any scratches and sore spots. But, soon, it began to burn and her skin turned a dark shade of pink around her wounds.

“Anyone else’s skin going crazy?” She said, scratching her arm, which only made it worse.

“Yeah, my eyes sting a bit too,” Nate said. “And it smells like someone farted.”

“That’s sulfur,” Charlie said, as he walked over to the dimpled wall and ran his finger along the striated rocks. They were smooth and damp. Looking closer, he could see tiny cracks running vertically across the stone surface. Along the edges of the cracks, white globules of crystal had formed.

He picked one of the crystals with his fingernail and held it up to the torch to examine it.

“What are you doing?” Nate asked.

Charlie popped the crystal in his mouth, sucking on it.

“Dude! Gross!”

“It’s salt,” he said, spiting the bitter flavor onto the ground. “Could have been formed when the meteor or whatever impacted in the ocean. The water would have spilled over these caves.”

After an hour of wandering through the twisting tunnels, they came to an opening. A huge chasm in the earth yawned and stretched ahead of them. Their torchlight did not reach either the top or bottom of the craggy pit.

At the end of a short ridge, a bridge suspended by four ropes led across the ravine to the other side, where the tunnel continued. The bridge was a lattice of metal bars, leaving openings of only a few inches between the crisscross of iron. The lattice turned sharply perpendicular at the edges, creating a railing about five feet tall along both sides.

The ropes were attached to the outside base of the bridge about six feet from the cliff’s edge on either side, and disappeared at a slightly outward angle up into the blackness above.

Nate walked to the edge of the cliff and peered down. His head swam. He grabbed a loose stone, and tossed it into the chasm. After nearly ten seconds, the stone clattered and bounced off the ground below.

“That’s not ideal,” Charlie said.

Nate walked to the bridge, and poked at it with his foot. The edge of the bridge that ran along the cliffside had five metal hooks that curved upward. “Seems sturdy enough,” he said, tentatively putting his weight on it. The bridge rocked gently forward, but did not seem in danger of collapsing.

He bent down and poked one of the hooks. It had an internal spring built in, and a single joint which allowed the hook to flatten.

“I mean…” Charlie said, rubbing his neck. “The obviously trapped bridge is obviously a trap, right?”

“Why would they put a trap on a bridge in their own tower?”

“Why would they put a trap in a hallway outside their bedrooms? We left rational building layouts behind hours ago.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Nate said. “Look, I’ll go first.”

“Those are the exact words of someone who dies early in horror movies.”

“Wait,” Sam said, pulling out a length of rope from her pack.

“Ooh, yeah, probably smart,” Nate said as she tied it around his waist. She then tossed the loose end to Gri, who wrapped it around her arm, and braced herself against a large formation of stalagmites.

He stepped onto the bridge which swayed under his weight. He grabbed the railing, and jumped a few times. The bridge swung slightly as he did, but held strong.

“See?” Nate said smugly. “Not a trap, just a bridge.”

He began to creep slowly across the bridge, willing himself to not to do the math equations on precisely how far a stone would travel by free-falling for ten seconds.

He passed the first set of ropes. They were much thicker than they appeared from the cliff. Each was roughly as broad as his arm.

He reached over the edge of the guard rail, and slapped the rope. It did not seem in danger of breaking, and did not even appear to be under any real strain from his weight.

“Guys, seriously, it’s fine. Come on.”

Sam and Hicket stepped onto the bridge. Gri moved to join them, but Charlie stopped her.

“Look, let’s us two have an ounce of sense, and make sure they get across okay first.”

“Okay, my beautiful, soft man,” Gri shrugged, and resumed her position holding Nate’s rope.

“You’re being paranoid, Charlie, I’m telling you, this thing is completely-“ He was cut off by the sound of hundreds of bats screeching.

He looked up at the swirling black cloud of flying rats as they descended. Squealing, he flailed his arms wildly, swatting several of the leathery creatures that flew around his head.

Sam and Hicket both ducked and ran forward. Sam shivered as she ran, feeling the wrinkled claws and hairy bodies batter her neck and shoulders.

Nate, nearly halfway across the bridge, suddenly froze and stared down in horror as a row of bars sank under his foot.

“Uh-oh,” he said softly.

A section of the bridge at the center jerked free and fell. It remained connected to the bridge, but some kind of joint had been hidden six feet on either side of where he stood. The sides of the bridge plummeted straight up, which sent Hicket and Sam tumbling through the air, crashing into Nate.

The swarm of bats squeaked and scattered, deftly dodging out of the way of the bridge and disappearing into the dark chasm below.

The vertical sections of the bridge slammed into place perfectly perpendicular to the section that had collapsed, which caused another set of joints where the ropes where attached to release, and the remaining section of bridge snapped together on top of them, the hooks closing the newly-formed cage shut at the top.

Nate, Sam, and Hicket painfully climbed to their feet. The railings formed perfect walls, leaving only a small gap at the center, one far too small for any of them to squeeze through.

“I told you!” Charlie shouted. “Who’s the paranoid schizophrenic now?”

“We never said you were schizophrenic,” Nate shouted back.

“It was implied!”

“Great, you were right, Charlie,” Sam shouted. “You’re a genius and we’ll never doubt your brilliance ever again. Now if you could use that unparalleled ingenuity to get us out of here, that would be swell.”

Charlie glanced at Gri, who still held the rope.

“Sam,” Charlie shouted. “How long is your rope?”

“I dunno, a hundred feet or so?”

“Nate, do you or Hicket have any rope?”

“I do,” Nate grumbled. While he was impressed with Charlie’s creative problem solving, he couldn’t help but feel resentful that not only had his friend correctly predicted their predicament, but was now solving the problem for them.

Charlie grinned at Gri. “You up for trying something crazy?”

Gri smiled back. “Gri always ready.”

“Guys, tie Sam’s rope securely to the cage on our side,” he instructed. “Like, really securely.”

Nate struggled to undo the knot around his waist, until Sam grew impatient enough to slap his hands away and took over. She then knotted the rope around the bars of the cage facing Charlie.

“Now tie Nate’s rope to the other side, while we pull you in.”

Charlie and Gri then began to pull them in. The bridge was heavy, but by using one of the stalagmites as a makeshift pulley, they were able to bring it to the edge of the cliff with relative ease.

“Can you hold it for a moment?” Charlie asked Gri. She nodded.

He carefully gathered the excess rope, and coiled it neatly at her feet.

“Okay, now for the fun part,” Charlie grinned. “I’m going to hold the rope-“

“Uh, are you sure you’re strong enough to do that, hot dog arms?” Nate asked from the cage.

“I thought you studied more physics than that, Nate,” Charlie chided. “It’s not going to take a whole lot of force to just hold the rope in place like this. Especially if I add pressure with my foot.”

He turned back to Gri.

“While I’m holding it, you’re going to climb on top of the cage, and walk to the far edge and grab the end of Nate’s rope.”

Gri looked puzzled.

“Then I’m going to let this rope go. The cage will swing across to the far side, and you’ll have to jump for it.”

Gri grinned. “That sound fun!”

“I thought you’d like that part,” Charlie said. “But you can’t let go of the rope, okay?”

“Gri promise.”

The heavy barbarian gave Charlie a quick peck on the cheek before she clambered onto the top of the cage. Nate threaded the loose end of his rope up to her, which she pulled through.

“Hurry,” Charlie groaned, his face red from holding the cage in place.

“Gri ready!” she shouted.

“Alright,” Charlie said, his voice strained. “Here we go.”

He let go of the rope. The heavy cage swung forward.

Nate, Sam, and Hicket all shouted in unison as they swung across the chasm. Nate felt sick as the pit of his stomach roiled down. Only Gri seemed to be enjoying the ride, a grin on her face as the wind blew her wild hair behind her.

The rope at Charlie’s feet made a high-pitched buzz, not unlike a loud zipper as it chaffed against the stalagmite, dusting some of the stone into a tiny brown cloud.

As they slowed on the other side, Gri launched herself nimbly through the air, her tawny muscles working perfectly. She landed gracefully on the plateau on the other side as the cage was then slung in the opposite direction.

Charlie grabbed the loose end of his rope.

“Oooooookaaaaaay,” Sam shouted as they swung back toward Charlie. “Nooooooow whaaaaat?”

Charlie smirked. “Now we have to wait for you to stop rocking.”

“Yoooooooouuuuu suuuuuuck!” Nate shouted as they again swung back toward Gri. It took several minutes for the cage to finally settle back at the center of the ravine. Charlie only wished he had some popcorn to watch the show.

“Now what?” Nate said as he leaned heavily against the bars. His mouth was thick with saliva, and he spat heavily through the cage bars to avoid vomiting. The delayed splat was an unpleasant reminder of just how high up they were.

“Alright, hang on.” Now came the part Charlie was dreading.

He walked to the edge of the cliff, and sat down heavily, his legs dangled off the edge. He took the rope, and pulled it tightly to him. He had tied a Spanish bowline countless times in Boy Scouts, preparing for mountain climbing emergencies that seemed extremely unlikely to happen in central Minnesota. But he had never actually applied his knowledge in a life or death situation.

He slipped the two loops around his legs, and made another knotted bowline around his waist and chest.

“You’re not doing what I think you’re doing, are you?” Sam shouted.

Charlie’s grim face answered her question.

“What is he going to do?” Nate asked.

“He’s going to swing out beneath us.”

“Gri!” Charlie shouted. “Once I stop swinging, you need to pull the cage over to your side, just like before, okay?”

“Gri understand!” her voice echoed back. “Soft man be careful!”

Charlie sighed. “I will.” He stared down into the black void beneath him. It was simple physics, he told himself. The knots would hold him, and his momentum would stop him before he crashed into the other side. Assuming they were equidistant. They sure appeared to be.

Nothing he could do about it now though. He inhaled deep, and carefully slid off the edge of the cliff. He plunged down at a terrifying speed, rocking and twisting in the air. It was like the world’s most horrifying playground equipment.

His momentum carried him up, and he felt certain he was going to crash into the wall, but his speed slowed. His right thigh gently slapped the rock cliff, which sent him spinning, but no serious damage occurred.

He began to try and rock his legs to cut the momentum. The rope groaned in protest but held, and he eventually stopped and dangled awkwardly underneath the cage.

“Hey, Charlie,” Nate shouted from above.

“What?”

A glob of spit slapped onto Charlie’s shoulder.

“Gri!” Charlie shouted. “I’ve changed my mind, let’s just leave them here.”

Gri’s head appeared over the edge of the cliff. “Gri feel sad, but Gri get over it.”

Charlie laughed. “Alright, pull us in.”

The cage jerked as Gri began to reel the cage in like a fishing line. Charlie grabbed hold of the rocky cliff, and began to climb. It was much easier going than simply pulling himself up a rope, and he ascended quickly, until he hauled himself over the edge and to safety.

He then helped Gri tie off the rope securely.

“Okay, we’re on the other side, now what?” Nate asked, now sitting against the bars of the cage like a prisoner.

Charlie untied the rope from his body. “Pull the rope in and untie it from the cage.”

Sam did as he instructed.

“Now, loop the rope through the bar at the little window, and through another bar further down.”

“Like this?” Sam asked, as she followed his instructions.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Leave it a little slack, and tie a double fisherman’s knot to connect the ends.”

“I don’t know what that is…”

Charlie sighed, and walked her through the knot. “Okay, now loop your spear handle through the rope, and twist it so it tightens.”

Sam slid her spear in place, and spun it a few times until it tightened around the bars.

“Okay, Hicket, take over and keep spinning the spear.”

“Why?” Hicket asked. He had remained largely silent throughout this process, and seemed generally confused by everything that was happening.

“It’ll bend the bars. We’re going to have to do this four more times, but that should widen the opening enough for you guys to squeeze through.”

“How can a rope bend bars?” Hicket asked.

“Trust me. It’ll work.”

Hicket rolled his eyes and began to spin the spear. His annoyance turned to amazement as the iron bars began to groan and bend as he twisted the spear.

“What sort of wizardry is this?” Hicket said in amazement as he ran a hand along the now bent metal.

“The best kind,” Charlie said. “The kind that Mr. Wizard teaches.”

They repeated the process on all four sides of the gap, and sure enough, they could slide through the opening. Hicket had to remove his bulky armor, but they were able to climb to safety with relative ease.

“Okay, fine,” Nate grumbled. “That was fairly impressive.”

“Impressive?” Sam said. “It was brilliant.”

“Just remember, you owe me your lives,” Charlie said as he untied the remaining rope from the cage. It swung free back to the center of the room.

“What if we need to get back to the other side?” Nate asked.

Charlie shrugged. “We’ll figure it out, I guess.”

“I could always fly across with the rope or something,” Hag said, appearing next to Charlie, startling Nate.

“Hag! I totally forgot you were even here,” Nate said.

“Thanks!” Hag said. “You’re going to make a wonderful father someday.”

“Where have you been, little buddy?” Charlie asked.

“Scouting the tunnels up ahead,” Hag said, his arms folded angrily as he glared at Nate. “You know, actually contributing in a helpful way and not clumsily triggering every trap I come across.”

“Did you find anything?”

“Yes, I found a strange room ahead.”

“What’s so strange about it?” Nate asked.

“Well, it’s like a regular type room, not a cave, and there’s a switch and a clock in it.”

Sam shrugged. “We have no idea what we’re doing. Now doesn’t seem like the time to question it.”

Nate nodded. “And you can lead us there?”

Hag smirked. “Trust me, I know these tunnels like the back of my Hag.” He flitted off into the darkness.

They followed him deeper into the cave complex, their progress faster with Hag leading the way, flitting impatiently ahead of them.

They came to a larger cave that smelled awful. Pools of cloudy water had collected in several shallow pits. Charlie rushed forward, dipping his finger into the water. The bottom of the pool had black clumps of bat guano, but the water could be filtered and boiled. And he was extremely thirsty.

He sniffed examined the wet tip of his finger, rubbing his finger and thumb together. He sniffed it for a moment, then licked it.

His face winced, and he spat, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“It’s pee,” he said, spitting again and again.

“Pee?” Sam asked, stepping back in horror. “Are you okay?”

“Well, I just tasted pee. How are you?”

Nate looked up at the roof of the cave. He could see where the tiny rivulets of liquid had run down the walls into the puddles.

“Why pee?” Nate said.

“I don’t know.”

“But where did it come from? Is the cave itself peeing? Or is there a bunch of pee in a giant pool above us that is slowly leaking through?”

“I’d like to leave now,” Sam said, holding her nose. “My scientific curiosity is not strong enough to spend time in here to solve the mystery of the piss room.”

They continued on. Charlie spat at regular intervals to try and rid the horrid taste from his mouth.

Sure enough, Hag was correct. The rough cave abruptly ended in a neatly-carved entrance of slate stone. A heavy door stood open, revealing a room within made from neatly laid bricks.

Nate stepped cautiously inside, holding his torch aloft. At the far end of the room was another heavy door, this one shut. At the center of the room was a long thin pedestal that stood four feet tall. Perched atop it was a single iron lever.

The ceiling was domed, and appeared to be the same style of architecture as the rest of the tower. Only, instead of smooth stone, there were long lines or seams crisscrossing the smooth surface. Among those lines were smaller circles, etched into the stone.

Sam walked to the door on the opposite wall. There was no visible means to open it; no handle or knob. It was just solid, heavy wood. She rapped on it with a knuckle. “There’s definitely an opening on the other side.” She pushed on the door, but it didn’t move. She ran her hands along the edges of the door searching for some kind of mechanism or latch. “How do we open it?”

Charlie was staring thoughtfully at the pedestal. “This is going to be another stupid trap, isn’t it…”

Nate joined him. “Probably.”

“I would just like to re-lodge my formal complaint about the design of this dungeon.”

“Noted.”

They both stared at the lever.

“I think you should pull it,” Charlie finally said.

“No way, man. I crossed the bridge first. It’s your turn to be victimized.”

“But I got the bees.” Charlie pointed to the blotchy welts on his face.

Nate stared at the pedestal. “Okay, so if we pull the lever, best-case scenario, the door opens, right?”

“There’s no chance that happens. Zero. Zilch. None.”

“Okay, so worst-case scenario?”

“I dunno, we all die in some horrible, inescapable death trap? The doors slam shut and the room fills with water, or sand? Giant axes fly out of the walls, cutting us to ribbons? There’s a countdown until a bomb goes off, blowing us to smithereens? There’s literally no way to know.”

Sam stepped between them, slinging an arm their necks. “You guys are giving off a strong ‘I don’t know how to program my VCR’ energy right now.” She reached out and gripped the lever. “No risk, no reward, right?”

Before they could protest, she yanked the lever.

The checkerboard floor chunked open, creating a grated grid. The room convulsed and shook for a moment, nearly knocked them prone as the door behind them slammed shut.

The floor grating closed with a loud clap. The small circular seams on the ceiling shuttered open and a fine, orange sand began to pour into the room, hitting Hicket on the shoulder as he ducked out of the way.

“Perfect, a sand death trap,” Charlie grumbled. “I always wanted to die by being smothered under a crushing weight.”

“You just always figured it would be Nate’s mom, not sand,” a booming voice shouted from behind them. Turning, they saw that the door that had slammed shut had sprouted a giant mouth. Its thick wooden lips and tongue waggled and creaked as it moved.

“What fresh hell is this?” Nate said.

“You have sixty seconds to survive,” the door said. “Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight. Fifty-seven…”

“Okay, we can do this, right?” Sam said. “Um… everyone spread out and search for any sort of mechanism or trigger.”

“I found a lever,” Hag said triumphantly, pointing at the lever Sam had just pulled.

“Great, that’s super helpful,” Nate said as he began to run his hands along the base of the pedestal.

“Do you really think the solution is at the bottom of the pedestal?” the door said. “Those are the ideas of a man who has been hit on the head with a lot of baseballs.”

“I…” Nate stammered. “Is the door going to insult us the whole time?”

“Insult you? I’m just stating the truth. Don’t kill the messenger just because you’re so ugly even carbon 14 won’t date you. Your mom doesn’t even think you are handsome.”

Sam laughed reflexively, but stifled it quickly after Nate glared at her.

“Oh, you find that funny, do you?” the door said.

“No, not really,” Sam lied.

“Well that’s good, because you have the personality of the end piece of a loaf of bread. You look like the kind of girl who would join a creative writing club at school.”

“That’s not inherently bad,” Nate said.

“No, but I bet her writing is. I can tell her mom is really passionate about her alcoholism.”

“Ooh, do me next, do me next!” Charlie said.

“Words you will never hear from the opposite sex, you cabbage-looking sock sniffer,” the door said. “You’re the diarrhea version of a party pooper with the social skills of a wet pair of underwear. I’m guessing you have to whistle while you poop, so you can remember which end to wipe. Twenty-eight seconds left. Twenty-seven.”

They began to search the ground more frantically. The long seams on the ceiling slid open. Thick pendulums swung into the room, each tipped with a heavy wicked axe blade. Nate barely dodged out of the way of one, cutting so close he felt the wind as it sailed past.

Hicket began to slam his shoulder into the locked door as the sand piled higher, making it more and more difficult to move around the room.

“The only thing from stopping you from solving this puzzle is a lack of motivation and a lifelong record of abject failure and rejection,” the door said. “Fifteen. Fourteen.”

“What happens when you get to zero?” Nate asked.

“What usually happens when a countdown ends?” the door answered. “Nine. Eight.”

Nate glanced at Charlie, who shook his head in panic.

“Five. Four.”

Nate ran forward awkwardly through the thick sand.

“Three. Two.”

He grabbed the lever on the pedestal, and yanked. The pendulums receded into the ceiling as the floor grating reopened. The room shook again, and the sand on the floor disappeared through the holes in the ground like some giant was pan handling for gold.

The floor grating snapped shut, but the sand did not stop pouring in.

“You have sixty seconds to survive,” the door repeated. “But I’m sure you’ll solve it this time. You seem very smart, and not at all like someone who would die if they jumped from their ego to their IQ score. Fifty-five. Fifty-four.”

“Okay, so the lever resets the contraption,” Charlie said. “That’s good to know, I guess.”

“If I had hands, I would slow clap for you,” the door said. “I’m guessing you only have two remaining brain cells, and both are running on muscle memory. If your thought process was any slower, it would be going backwards.”

“I’m deeply uncomfortable being on the receiving end of insults,” Nate grumbled.

“If we weren’t about to painfully die, I’d be writing some of these down,” Sam said.

“And why am I not surprised that you are so ill-mannered?” the door continued. “I bet you walk around in a little circle before lying down.”

“Would you shut up, please?” Nate shouted at the door. “I can’t think with you blathering on and on.”

“I’ll stop talking if you stop looking like that. If there was a beauty tax, you’d be receiving government subsidies.”

Charlie snorted.

“But don’t worry,” the door continued. “I’m sure you’ll have a participation-trophy wife someday, and several children so ugly the doctor will mistake them for hemorrhoids during the delivery.”

Hicket had stopped bashing the door with his shoulder. He and Gri were now taking turns smashing the door with their weapons, but to no avail. They had not so much as scratched the surface.

“Forty-eight. Forty-seven.”

“Let’s think this through,” Nate said as the pendulum axes began to swing again. “Pulling the lever resets everything, and now we know where the axes are coming from, it’s not going to be difficult to avoid dying at least.”

The door laughed. “It sure seems like your mother once put you in the oven when you were a baby on a dare, and turned on the gas. Then took you out, gorged herself on ice-cream, and cried.”

“Yeah! The only way a woman would ever touch you is with a taser,” Hag said, now fluttering near the door.

“Hag, you’re not helping,” Nate grumbled. “We can survive, but I don’t want to live out the rest of my days in this room receiving verbal and emotional abuse from an inanimate object.”

“Yeah, if I wanted that I could have just stayed home with my dad,” Charlie said.

“Says the guy who smells like he thinks hygiene is a form of social control,” the door said. “I’m guessing your dad insulting you would be an improvement, because at least it would mean he knows you exist. You seem more like a neglected child, because you clearly have the life skills of a kindergartner. Twenty-two. Twenty-one.”

Charlie yanked the lever, resetting the room.

“You have sixty seconds to survive,” the door said robotically. “And you’re going to need it if your best hope is the future messiah of the soccer moms over there.”

“Messiah of the soccer moms?” Sam said. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you look like you eat baked beans cold out of the can,” the door shot back. “It means your family tree has as many branches as a blade of grass.”

“Wait, what did the door say when you yanked the lever?” Nate said.

“That we have sixty seconds until we die,” Charlie said.

“No, it was…” Nate yanked the lever.

“You have sixty seconds to survive,” the door repeated.

“Sixty seconds to survive…” Nate rubbed his chin. “What if that means we just have to survive sixty seconds?”

“Brilliant!” the door exclaimed. “Exactly the kind of smart idea a person who wouldn’t change their socks after accidentally stepping in a puddle of water would come up with.”

“I guess it’s possible,” Sam said. “But what if you’re wrong?”

“Then we all die, probably?”

“Ah. So no big deal then.”

Nate smiled. “Unless you have a better idea.”

Sam and Charlie both stared at him blankly.

“Thirty-seven. Thirty-six.”

Charlie licked his lips, staring at the lever. “You’re sure about this?”

“Nope,” Nate said.

“Twenty-five. Twenty-four.”

Gri and Hicket continued their fruitless assault on the door.

“Eleven. Ten. Nine.”

Nate smiled at his friends. “If we die, then I guess it’s been pretty okay knowing you.”

“Very touching,” Charlie said, his eyes still glued to the lever. “I had hoped you might deliver the eulogy at my funeral someday, but if we’re about to die…”

“Four. Three.”

Nate clenched his eyes shut. Sam and Charlie both braced for whatever terrible fate was about to befall them.

“One.”

The sand stopped pouring into the room, and the axes receded into the ceiling. The floor opened and the room shook the sand free.

“I can’t believe you knuckleheads figured it out,” the door said. “Thankfully, you won’t survive the hungry beast that lies ahead of you.”

“Wait, what beast?” Nate said. But it was too late; the door had returned to its normal shape. The door that Gri and Hicket had been furiously attacking popped open, revealing a long, narrow hallway that stretched endlessly before them.

It was impossible to tell, but it seemed like they had returned to the constructed interior of the tower, leaving behind the cave system. Nate was shocked by how quiet it was, without the omnipresent sound of water drips and the scurrying chirp of bats overhead.

They marched down the hallway for a half-hour. The walls were made from a beautiful, lacquered wood. Portraits of long-dead nobles appeared every ten feet on either side, each looking more dimwitted and inbred than the last.

They finally reached the end of the comically long hallway. They were met with an ornate set of doors. It was immaculately carved with flowers and vines, and inlayed with gold and silver that glinted in the torchlight.

Hicket touched the door gingerly. He pressed his ear to the wood and listened. “It sounds like… breathing?”

Carefully, he twisted one of the knobs. The door swung inward. He cracked the door just enough for his head to poke through.

He was greeted by a deafening roar, and the footfalls of something so enormous that shook the ground. Hicket pulled his head back and slammed the door. His face was pale, and his eyes were wide.

“What?” Charlie asked. “What is it?”

“A dragon.”