“This is taking forever!” Edvin’s deep voice resonated along the dark, winding passage, startling a colony of bats from their early evening slumber. For a brief moment, the leathery snap of their frantic wings drowned out Edvin’s bellyaching. The colony took to the air and scattered across the cave. The sounds of their hasty retreat faded in the distance, until all trace of the fleeing bats was lost completely. The same could not be said for the God of Ill-Gotten Gainz.

“Why?” He rolled his head back, dragging each gigantic foot as it weighed as much as an anchor, groaning, “Why is this taking forever? I could have us portaled out of here in a jiff.”

Sir Thomassin strode confidently alongside the god, currently dwarfed in stature but not attitude. Although the knight’s holier-than-thou mentality had thankfully yet to return, the rest of his personality had bounced back with remarkable speed. Sir Thomassin’s shoulders were no longer slumped but squared and carried high, his back now held as straight as an arrow. While it was a marked improvement, Brittle suspected it still stemmed from pride. After all, what better way to prove one was above the pettiness of the gods than to compete with an almighty deity for the coveted role of ‘I’m in charge of this operation’?

Edvin ducked to avoid hitting his head on a low-hanging rock formation. “Remind me again why we have to walk?”

“Remind me again why you had to come?” Sir Thomassin countered.

“It’s called groveling, mate. If Mara says to take the little tyke back home to gather his stuff, then that’s what I do. No questions asked.”

“I seem to recall a number of questions being asked,” the knight replied flatly. “Most notably, ‘Mara, please, won’t you put the knife down?’”

“Look at that. Mister Goody-Two-Shoes has a sense of humor after all.” Edvin, underestimating his own strength, gave the man a playful shove that sent him sprawling. “Good for you, Thom. Now we just have to do something about that smell.”

Brittle tottered behind the odd pair, arms pulled tight against his chest, beaming like a fool. Gilly was at his side, keeping a wary eye on their dubious escorts as she waddled along. They were nearing the entrance to Mara’s cave now, after having journeyed for the better part of an hour. Eventually, when Brittle was more settled, he planned to consult Mara about devising a shortcut through the cave. As he absolutely refused to set foot through another portal, halving his travel time would be crucial for a daily commute – an important feature, now that he’d be residing in Stay Away Canyon permanently.

“I still can’t believe it, Gilly Girl,” Brittle whispered, unable to contain the excited shiver that worked down his trunk. “The Great Maker asked me to stay with her. Me! I get my own room and everything!”

Gilly responded with an unenthusiastic head bob. The swamp monitor’s rudder-like tail swished stiffly behind her as she swaggered along, dark eyes darting back-and-forth amongst the gloom. Unlike Sir Thomassin and Edvin, something had the old girl on high alert. Which seemed strange, considering they’d already made it safely past the cave’s unusual assortment of booby traps.

Even Gilly’s sudden aloofness couldn’t put a damper on Brittle’s spirits. He hugged himself tighter. “I’m finally moving up in the world.”

First new friends, and then a new career, and now a roommate! Mara had phrased it differently, of course. She insisted she wouldn’t have to worry so much about Brittle if he kept close, but that was the sort of thing older folks were always going on about. Grownups never liked to admit that they wanted company simply for the sake of company. They always had to frame it in a way that made it look like they were doing you a favor.

Brittle didn’t mind. Whatever Mara’s reasons were, it would be nice to return home to something other than an empty hovel after a full day of adventuring.

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It was sunset by the time they stepped free of the cave and into the basin of Stay Away Canyon. The sun slowly sank beyond the horizon, its final rays painting the steep canyon walls in pastel shades of pink and purple. The evening air was cool and laced with the soothing smells of cattails and wet river rock. Brittle stopped at the mouth of the cave and took it in, feeling as though a burden had lifted from his wee shoulders.

This was home, he thought, gazing out across the winding ribbon of river. For now anyway, until they found Mama. The Great Maker said they could stay after that as well, if they wanted. Mama would refuse, of course, out of principle. But Brittle was pretty sure he could talk her around to the idea. It would be rude to refuse a gift from the almighty, he’d point out, reminding Mama of all of the good manners she’d somehow hammered into his hollow head over the years. She’d hem and haw before eventually agreeing, secretly tickled pink by the prospect of living with a goddess.

Until she saw the cave, that was. There was no doubt in Brittle’s mind Mama would have Mara’s disheveled home shipshape in no time. For peat’s sake, Mama would probably have the goddess herself shipshape by the end of the week. That would be a sight to see.

A rumbling voice snapped Brittle from his daydreams. “There you are, little log beast. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Brittle whipped around with a start. Gabor, God of Champions, stood pressed against the canyon wall, concealed in shadow. He stepped forth into the dimming light, his golden eyes glowing menacingly beneath his single, silvery eyebrow.

Glancing over his shoulder, Brittle saw the others had already started the treacherous climb back up the winding canyon trail. They hadn’t realized he wasn’t with them yet. Something deep in the pit of his churning stomach warned him not to shout. “You’re not supposed to be here,” Brittle said, edging a cautious step backwards. It would take a full sprint to reach his friends, but he could do it. He was certain. “And I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

Just a few more steps, he told himself. He’d be well out of Gabor’s reach then, allowing him the space he needed to turn and run for all he was worth.

“You want to see your family again, don’t you?”

Brittle hesitated. It was a trap, he was certain. His rough bark hide was abuzz with prickly energy, warning him to stay focused. Another step and then he’d be clear. That was all he needed. “Mara has it handled, thank you.”

“You put too much faith in your goddess, boy. She didn’t even try.”

“Yeah, and how would you know?” He winced, realizing he should have kept his infernal mouth shut.

“Because, unlike her, I actually looked. Took me half of an afternoon to find your missing family.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Gabor stepped closer, looming over him like a mountain. “Your goddess is a nobody. The only good thing she’s good at is causing pain. Probably why she didn’t even look. Having you around, leeching off of your misery and sadness, that was all she ever really wanted.”

Brittle silently cursed his luck for losing the gap he’d worked so hard to gain. He slowly inched backwards, racking his brain for a way to keep the god distracted. “What do you want from me?”

“To help.” A predatory smile cut across Gabor’s shadowed face. He extended his broad hand in Brittle direction invitingly. “Would you like to see the other bog log beasts again, boy? How about your mama? I can take you to her right now.”

Run – the warning rang across Brittle’s thoughts as clear as a temple service bell.

“Gilly!” He turned and sped off as fast as his twiggy legs could carry him. “Gilly, help!”

The others whipped around at the sound of his voice. Gilly was already galloping in his direction when a portal opened up beneath Brittle’s scampering feet. The last thing he saw was three dark shapes hurtling across the basin towards him, backlit by pastel shades of pink and purple, before the portal swallowed him.

He fell, screaming, legs kicking uselessly beneath him until he slipped out the other side and landed with a slam onto solid ground. The portal glowed above him, casting eerie hues of red light along what looked to be a wood-planked ceiling. It hovered too high off of the floor for Brittle to reach. He staggered back onto his rickety legs, watching helpless as the flickering portal shrank in size, hoping against all odds that Gilly or one of the others would make it through in time.

The portal closed, extinguishing the red, flickering light. The room went dark. And the nightmare began.