Following the quest marker in my mind, we arrived at a canyon carved through green stone. This scar of malachite extended for kilometers, a festering wound on the Mariana-colored sands. We had to traverse it, and that wasn’t one of those ideas that made me dance out of joy.

“Mariana, we have congaed for hours on end. Would you be so fucking kind to get the fuck off?”

“Why not conga while crossing the canyon?”

“Green ominous canyon amidst total nothingness. Yeah, it’s bound to be safe. No need to be on our guard. None at all.”

After a few moments of struggle, I succeeded at the gargantuan task of escaping my pet’s grasp. Then, it was time to consider our options. We had plenty of water and hobo entrails. Only time, monsters and Mariana were real threats to our safety.

“The river of immortality is either in or at the other side of this crap,” I thought out loud.

“You want me to lead the way?” she asked, anxious to serve.

“Yes, maybe that would extend my life expectancy enough to find a nook to camp in.”

“Yes! I, Mariana Gallardo, have been promoted to canyon fodder.”

Teacher, I am sorry, but I can’t hand in the homework: the dog stole my fucking surname.

And then she proceeded to happily walk into what I assumed was a deadly trap. She could take it. If things were to go north, Mariana could accidentally commit an act of self-defense. And that was fine in my book.

But nothing attacked a lone Golden Retriever. That only cemented my suspicions: it was a trap.

“Mariana, come, we will circumnavigate this thing, hope the river is found at the other side,” my voice echoed between the green walls and reached my dear pet…

But she never got a strong recall.

I buckled up with a bit of necromancy and ran to her. Mariana was my source of food, water, problems and safety. Letting her go was an option, but it also implied dying, which wasn’t precisely my idea of fun.

As we advanced through the canyon the walls got higher, and they consumed the sky, reduced to a thin turquoise line between them. At least wind could only come from the front or from behind there. One could realistically fall dead in an aerodynamically privileged position that would prevent one’s body from getting rolled out into the sands. It also had the advantage of being a landmark, which would have made my rotting corpse way more visible.

“Okay, this is bound to be one of those infinite, shifting and/or labyrinthine places that drive their victims to madness, starvation, cannibalism or, God forbid me, prayer.”

“Why do you say that?” my brilliant companion dismissed my worries yet again. Thanks, Mariana.

“You don’t find yourself walking into the unnaturally placed, scary, green canyon that makes you an easy target for an ambush if you have any sort of luck in this life.”

“Well, if we are about to walk into a life or death situation, I want to ask you something,” she turned, sat down and held a stare.

“What? I don’t have food.”

“It’s not that, Walter. It’s… why me?”

I was taken aback by the question. I did not expect complaints about our current situation from my dog, out of all beings.

“Well, we are disgraced, life sucks…”

“No, moron! Why did you pick me, specifically, instead of one of my siblings?”

“I misjudged you to be the least stupid of the bunch. You were following me while the breeders showed me the others. It seemed clear that only an intelligent dog would like me from the very first instant.”

“Awww, ‘misjudged to be the least stupid’. That’s the cutest thing you said to me since I am fully capable of understanding human language.”

“You are glad I called you an absolute bonehead?”

“Yep,” she said, panting, wagging her tail.

I scratched her under the neck a little, and then patted her head thrice.

“Terminally Golden, aren’t you? Let’s keep on going, we need to take that immortalizing water.”

“I was born for water and taking!”

“Yes you were.”

We kept on advancing through the canyon as the afternoon came and went by. There were no skeletons to be seen —or looted— around. If it led to the coveted river of immortals, there was no way nobody had died trying to reach such a boon. Somebody, something, or worse —an elf— was removing the bodies.

“Mariana, don’t you feel we are being watched?”

“As in, observed?”

I could feel my eye twitching.

“No, turned into a wrist clock.”

Stolen story; please report.

She looked down, pensive.

“I haven’t found a spell for that yet.”

“Why do you bounce between genius and queen of fools so abruptly, Mar? What have I done to you?” I said, containing my urge to fall to my knees because that hurts a lot.

“You raised me!”

I had no reply to that. It even made sense.

“When we return to the castle, I will get a marker from somewhere, and then a ball, and I will use the former to write ‘idiot’ on the latter. Then you will be tasked with holding it, because you have clearly mastered the concept.”

“No, I am a ditz most of the time. The ball should say ‘smart’.”

I was going to answer but, when I opened my mouth, no words came out: I realized she was right. Sticking with my idea was the correct course of action anyway, because giving her the reason would have been admitting defeat.

That’s when I heard the thumps. Rhythmical, step-like. Metallic.

“Ah, nice, it was high time for something to come after us. Something big and with metal boots. Let’s bet: reanimated armor?”

Mariana’s eyes became a thin line.

“A veterinarian.”

“No, this has to be some fantasy monster and… Lord it’s bigger than I thought.”

Down the path we could see his figure coming at us. Anthropomorphic but quadrupedal, with a golden mask that captured the thin line of sunlight and reflected it into the shadows.

There was no time to lose: my belts rose like a cat’s hackles, ready to jump at any attacker. I doubted my dagger would do any good, but I preferred to have it unsheathed and ready, should the heat of battle prove me wrong.

As it drew closer I could see it had no eyes, but copper coins: one rusted, one shining like it was freshly minted. Over its liverwort-colored body words were branded in sheer black: Adjectives closer to the head, and verbs in the extremities. it had an encyclopedia in place of a left shoulder pad, and a mirror serving as the right one.

Worst of all, its HP bar had no numbers, only question marks.

“Do I fireball it?”

“Do you have a spell to avoid conflict, instead of initiating it?”

“Temporal amnesia.”

“Cast it on it.”

She did, and the thing was immune. Oh joy.

“Do I fireball it?”

“Fire at will, Mar.”

She turned around, as if looking for something. Then, she cocked the head to the side.

“Is it called Will?”

“Just… tank it.”

Mariana happily pranced towards the colossus: tail high, ears relaxed, sniffing the air as she went.

The thing swatted her like a fly with one of his heavy hands. My pet bore a hole in the rock walls and went so deep into them that she probably gained some levels in speleology.

I knew Mariana was going to come out as fine as she went in, but, compared to her, I was, how to put it in a sensible way… soft.

The monster approached, fast, and Mariana still chillaxing in her impromptu geological expedition. I didn’t want to roll. I didn’t want to run. I was clearly incapable of winning a fight against it.

Turns out, running was slightly better than dying —I had already died once, and this was my afterlife: dying there could mean finding even worse elves elsewhere.

Little observation: I said it was quadrupedal. Have you ever tried to outrun a dog of a breed not devised by the supreme lord of pugs and sausages? Or a cat. Or, if you are a Spaniard, the fucking bull of San Fermín.

I bet it didn’t turn out right. Neither it did for me.

It quickly caught up to me, and when his shine dissolved the shadows around me, I turned and commanded the belts to form a shield attached to my left arm.

I closed my eyes and braced for the impact. Its savage swipe reduced my shield to tatters and, after recovering from a severe staggering that threw me against the hard rock of the floor, I felt the creeping, burning sensation in my arm. It was battered like a B minus pupil with Chinese parents. It was still in one piece and attached to my living body, for my fortune, but would not remain like that for long, were I to take another hit like that. I recalled the sorry mess that were my belts and rolled to the side as the verbed claws stabbed the floor.

As the thing struggled to free its arm, I stood, dodged the other arm with a well-timed back-step and then ran between its legs. I thought of stabbing it in the ass, but it suffered from a severe lack of cheeks.

I paused for a split second: given I could slip between the legs unimpeded, the odds were that I was dealing with a she.

Maybe that’s why I ran like possessed despite my arm aching and Mariana playing fucking Dig Dug in the walls. Because, on top of death, I realized I needed to avoid the feminine touch.

The wall exploded some meters down the path, to the left, and a single Mariana sprouted from the hole.

“Defend me, you useless doggess!”

“From what?”

I pointed at automaton that was coming for my ass.

“There’s nothing there, I killed the monster when it hit me.”

“Don’t fuck with me!” I kept on running without looking behind me.

The wall shattered to my right, and, this time, it was a claw of the monster that came through. It missed me for a few centimeters. I turned to prepare and roll between the legs of the thing again, but, like Mariana had said, there was nothing there.

“It’s in the walls, Mariana!”

“Like asbestos?”

“No, this is legal. Help me or I will get Cask of Amontillado’d,” I ordered with assertiveness.

She instantly bolted to my side. Poe references were serious business.

With Mariana in front of me, I was basically invincible. I relaxed and started swearing between my teeth because my arm hurt like hell.

The arm came again, and it went through Mariana as if she were a ghost. My companion didn’t even flinch, but I was forced to step back against the other wall to avoid getting turned into loser-flavored feta cheese.

I felt the wall behind me quivering, and in an instant of brilliance, I ducked. Another arm came from it and almost rips off my scalp.

“Why are you crouching?” asked Mariana.

“Don’t you see them!”

“Them?”

Mariana peacefully sniffed the air.

“Nothing here.”

I swore to myself I would find a polymorph spell only to turn Mariana into a person or a bird for a moment, just long enough to torture her with the concept of the color green.

I dashed for the exit of the canyon as Mariana followed, marching without a worry in the damn world. The monster and her didn’t seem to exist on the same plane: she didn’t see them, and they didn’t touch her.

Eventually, hands started also coming out of the floor, and, as the walls opened into the desert, the persecutors started coming out of the woodwork.

They were all similar, copies one of each other, yet imperfect ones. One even had grammar mistakes on some of the words written all over him. At the mouth of the canyon, I found myself surrounded.

One, two, three… twelve.

Mariana frolicked around me as they closed in. The hamster inside my head was overworked and overdosed on soy lattes, panting on the floor while seeing his life flash before his eyes.

“What kind of heresiarch imagined these monsters?” I cursed while clenching my teeth, and then I opened my eyes wide.

Heresiarch, where had I learned that word…

I busted out in laughter. They hadn’t stopped stalking like hungry wolves, drawing closer each second. It didn’t matter anymore.

“Of course! The mirror and the encyclopedia. The copper coins, some rusted by the rain. Adjectives to the ‘north’ and verbs to the ‘south’. The golden masks! Twelve! Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius!”

“Oh squishy toys, he has lost his last screw,” mentally mumbled Mariana.

“Mar, use temporal amnesia on me and tell me to keep my eyes closed until you lead me well into the canyon.”

“But…”

One of them jumped, claws extended for the kill.

“Now!”

I closed my eyes, and then, forgot what I was doing. I only retained the ominous feeling that opening them again so soon would be a very, very bad idea.

“Follow the barks, eyes closed, I have orders!”

I never knew what happened to the amalgamations, to those bad parodies of Borges’ short story. I just know that I walked into the canyon alive, and pretty pestered by the actions of my dog.