The sleep was dreamless, as I’m accustomed to.

“Come on…. Come on!”

A flicker of warmth touched me, just enough to melt away the weight of the slumber. It was still dark. A slight pressure removed itself from my chest, followed by heavy breathing. “Don’t scare me like that,” said a female voice—Alice.

“I’ll try not to,” I said. After allowing for a few steady breaths, I added: “My head feels much better now. What’d you do?”

“Lay on Hands,” she said.

“I thought that didn’t work with the collars.”

“It was hard,” she wheezed. “But I didn’t have a lot of options, so I just tried…overpowering it. It worked, but barely. I had to burn through almost all of it just to get that little bit into you. I don’t think I have enough to do it again.”

“I see.” So the collars didn’t completely stop magic, just dampened it. Despite their obvious association with slavery, it wouldn’t be a bad tool for an adventurer to have. “Thanks.”

There was a pause. “Don’t mention it,” she said quietly. “How are you feeling?”

“Good enough.” I sat up. “My leg still hurts, but that can’t be helped. Do you want to help bandage it before or after you search the room?”

Another pause, but longer. “…Alice?” I asked.

“We…already bandaged your leg,” she said. “Don’t you remember?”

I raised an eyebrow. Feeling down, there were indeed wrappings around my thigh, knee and shin. They were tight and tied with something to keep the leg from bending. I hadn’t even noticed until then, which was less worrisome than not remembering their application at all. “When did I… How long was I out?”

“I don’t know, ten seconds maybe? I was quick once you started slurring and bobbing your head.”

I doubted she’d mess with me in as serious a situation as this. “I don’t remember any of that. The last thing…was us talking about Gene Kelly and tap dancing. Then I just sort of fell asleep.”

“You’re,” I could hear her voice waver. “You’re joking, right? I mean, you were kind of off for a bit there, but…”

“Alice? Alice.” My hand reached out for her. I got an arm and followed it down to her hand. “I’m fine now, thanks to you. You don’t need to worry. I’m just curious. What do you mean by a bit off? What did I say?” I let go and folded my hands into as calm of a position as I could manage.

She took a second. “You were helpful,” she said. “You started telling me how to bind your wounds. With a lot of detail. And reasons why it should be bandaged like that. You seriously don’t remember? Like how the ligaments around the knee might be damaged, and we had to splint it? Oh my God, what’s wrong? What’s with that face?”

I had to override my expression back to neutral. “Nothing,” I said. “Just interesting.”

Interesting though it was, it was hardly “just”. It sounded like something took over for me while I was out. Something which knew things I didn’t. Something which either saw an opportunity, or created one. Something which might very well have always been lying in wait inside me, waiting for any excuse to spring into action.

Something like my knowledge skills.

I shook the thought away from my conscious mind. Nothing to do about it now, and besides which I may have been overreacting. I’ve been known to have the wherewithal during a night of heavy drinking to understand that I was awake, yet wouldn’t remember what I was doing come morning. More than once my drunken self found it hilarious to play pranks on my sober self. Besides which, the subconscious picks up a lot of information—it was possible I heard all about treating leg wounds in some sort of medical drama, and the info was just filed away somewhere in my mental depths. That must’ve been all it was. Otherwise, I’d either be insane, or going insane because of it.

I always found it interesting that we can use irrational thoughts to keep ourselves thinking rationally.

“Did you end up searching the area?” I asked.

“For the most part," she said, happy to change the subject. "I couldn’t find any lockpicks, and I had to…I guess, cannibalize a skeleton to get a weapon. I can get you a thigh bone to use as a club, if you like.”

I sighed. “I wouldn’t like, but beggars can’t be choosers. Is that what you’re using?”

“No, you said something about how I needed something small and pointed. A finesse weapon, right? It’s not exactly sharp, but I got a sternum.” She let out a quick breath, almost amused. “God, I hate this world.”

Depending on the Dungeon Master, it might hate us right back; yet another thought to shake loose. “I actually think what we need most is a light source.”

“Sick of the dark?”

“That, but think about it: since there isn’t an entrance near here, they must’ve had to lead us through the dungeon. How did they do that without triggering their own traps or being attacked by monster rats?”

She didn’t say anything.

“What I think,” I continued, “is that any monsters that are here tend to shy away from bright light. That would keep anyone with a torch safe. I also think that whatever traps there might be are easily identifiable in bright light—a different color from the surroundings, perhaps. That way people like you, who have Darkvision, wouldn’t be able to tell where the traps are in pitch black, because you can only see the outlines of shapes. And since we don’t have any access to light because we’ve had our magic cut off, they must expect us to fumble around in the dark.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I waited for my brilliance to be recognized, but all I got was: “Sure. Do you want to try moving now? Can you get up?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” I started to position my good leg to hoist myself up. “So, what were we talking about before? Gene Kelly and ballet?”

“Right,” she said, and I was pretty sure she was smiling. “Here, let me help.” She slipped under my arm.

“Thanks.”

I made sure I did most of the work getting up, and tried my damnedest not to groan under the strain. Immediately upon reaching my normal cruising altitude, however, I became dizzy. “Whoa. Okay,” said Alice, staying at my shoulder and guiding me. “Still not a hundred percent, so don’t chasse around so much, yeah? Oh, if you only took tap, then—“

“I took jazz, too,” I said, feigning defensiveness. “Chasse, chaines, pas de bouree, all the ‘ballet-lite’ steps.” I gingerly put some weight on my bound leg. It whined in protest. “Thanks, moving around helped my head a lot, but my leg still sucks. I’m guessing you mostly did ballet?”

“Mostly. You can tell?”

I shrugged. “Eh, I saw you flitting around those thugs when you charged into the tent. That and your posture, not to mention you must be a lot stronger than you look if you can help me walk around.”

She was quiet for a while. When she spoke again, her tone waxed nostalgic. “I’ve taken dance classes since I was three. It’s just a good hobby, you know?”

“Sure,” I nodded. “You know the adage, ‘You don’t stop dancing when you get old, you get old when you stop dancing’? I’m walking proof of that. Well, limping proof.”

She gave a small, probably just polite chuckle, but I was immensely proud of it. “You’re not that out of shape, though,” she said, again probably just being polite.

“Well, I’ve lost a bit of weight since I came here.” I was getting used to the pain in my leg, but I kept Alice close by. Can’t be too careful, or so I told myself. “Who knew the secret to getting fit is crappy beer and lots of running from bad guys?” I hoped for another chuckle, but got none. Her lithe body seemed to lose a bit of strength. “But we should focus on getting out of here. Do you want to set me down so you can go on unhindered? I can give you pointers on—“

“I’m not leaving you,” she said, her strength renewed. “I don’t want to be alone here again.”

I took a second, then decided she meant alone in this world. “…Fair enough. I can probably walk on my own now, if that helps.”

“No, it’s okay,” she said. “Can’t be too careful.”

For only a second, I was glad for the darkness. It covered my blush.

We started walking with more purpose. “Any sign of the other rats?” I asked.

“No. I think they’re hiding. We’re coming up to the hallway, now.”

“Alright. Walk carefully, we’ll test the ground ahead with our feet. Or I’ll try to, anyways. Unless you happen to know where a ten foot pole is?”

Her hair, being in a ponytail, swished from side to side along my arm. “That something standard in D&D?” We started moving forward. Slowly.

“Old school, yeah. Before the thief class was created. The idea was to trigger traps before you got to them, I think. Easy enough to thwart if you’re a decent dungeon designer, though. And it’s really loud. Difficult to stealth if you—“

“Jack!” A harsh whisper. I could feel her tense beside me.

“Alice?” I whispered back.

She swallowed. “Down the hall, there are…bugs. Really, really big bugs. Two, make that three of them, coming from a side passage. Heading this way.”

Crap. “Describe them,” I said, willing myself to stay calm for her sake. She had helped me more than I could say; I had to at least try to be someone she could start relying on.

“Like centi—um, millipedes,” she said quietly. “But huge. They’re crawling along the walls and one on the ceiling.”

I told myself to stay calm and think. I closed my eyes, for all the good it did. “Anything else? Stinger tails? Maybe…tentacles around the mouth?”

“Yes, tentacles!” she whispered.

“Eight of them, almost like a beard?” I held my breath.

She was still tense. “Yes!”

I opened my eyes to darkness. “Alright. Can they get by without touching us?”

“Um, I think so.”

“Good. Listen to me: No sudden moves. When they get close, don’t let them touch you. Especially the tentacle beards. If they take an interest, just gently guide them away with your weapon. But don’t hurt them! Got that?”

I felt her hair move, which I took to be a nod. We stood silent.

I measured the time in heartbeats. Several pounded by before I heard the clittering. Dozens of legs made their way along the stonework, the noise like a hundred monkeys at a hundred word processors attempting to duplicate Lovecraft. There were far too many little clacks for how slowly they moved. It was a glacial paced body of noise stalking patiently towards us. I could feel my own heart raging, and then Alice’s. Hers was going faster than mine. I was almost glad I couldn’t see.

She crossed an arm in front of me and pushed gently. I complied and let her guide me behind her—it was probably going to be a tight fit. I kept my hands on her shoulders. The clittering got closer. A smell of rot and decay entered our noses. The clittering was almost on top of us.

Before I knew it, I could sense the beasts’ presence—not from sound or smell, though both were incredibly noticeable, but I could simply feel the beasts’ size. Something ten feet long and hundreds of pounds doesn’t simply walk sideways along the wall next to you without fifteen brand new senses coming into being and screaming about it. Alice quivered under my hands.

Then the clittering stopped.

Their presence was still there, and I shrank at the thought of giant bugs eyeing me over. A few of the muscles shifted in Alice’s shoulders, and she slowly moved an arm. I could feel her gently pushing something away from us with an almost inaudible mantra of “Ew, ew, ew…” I held my breath, ready to grab her and gimply run back to barricade the jail cell.

Heartbeats pounded away. Then, like a slow starting waterfall of fingernails, the clittering began again. One passed by our left. Another passed by our right. The last slowly moved above us, but stopped.

My only thought was, if this thing falls, we’re dead just from the weight.

“Jack! Get down—slowly!”

Choosing not to think about why, I did so, matching Alice’s speed. We went down to a crouch, which was difficult because I had to stick my splinted leg out to go that low. It was several more heartbeats before the sound of clittering finally told us the last moved on.

Alice stood. “What the Hell were those things?”

I took a couple breaths. “Carrion crawlers. Those tentacles can paralyze you, albeit temporarily. They prefer to go after things that are already dead, and they have a fantastic sense of smell. I guessed they were out to get the rats we killed. Seems I was right.”

Alice helped me up, then sidled back under my shoulder. “Carrion crawlers? Those things are nasty,” she said.

“No argument from me. I’m certainly glad you were here.”

“Well, if only I could say I was glad to be here.”

I smiled. “Don’t worry; I won’t take it personally. Now, you said those crawlers came from a side passage?”

“Yeah, about fifty feet up ahead. It looks like the hallway splits into three.”

“Intersections are likely to have traps. We should check it carefully.”

We kept going, and, in spite of my warning, moved quicker than before, what with the giant monsters behind us.

“Alright, we’re almost there. What should we…uh…” She stopped.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “More bugs?”

“No…” she sounded apprehensive. “I… Okay, do squirrels have Darkvision?”

I froze. “Why would you want to know?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“One just ran through the intersection. It keeps hopping down a hall and then looking back at us.”

I inhaled. I exhaled. Goddamn squirrels. “Follow it. Follow it and pray my instincts are wrong.”