The skeleton didn’t stand much of a chance. No sooner had I commented on its existence when a brilliant flash of golden light burst through it, scalding the image of its rapidly ablating torso and vacuous grinning skull into my eyes. I moved to protect the picks in the lock from any wayward shards. Paladins and their Divine Smite; it was the good stuff.

“Are you alright?” asked Alice.

Besides my retinas, I thought. “Thanks to you.”

“Good.” She sounded relieved. A skeleton without a finesse weapon was pretty ineffectual, but I supposed she didn’t know that. “Um,” she added, “is that lock coming along? Because I’m hearing more movement.”

Tensing, I asked, “What kind of movement?”

“Pretty sure it’s bones on stone,” she said.

I cocked an ear up. “What, do you think all the corpses we passed are…?”

“I couldn’t say.”

I thought I might have triggered a trap, but why have corpses outside the immediate vicinity animate? Wouldn’t a skeleton be just as likely to fall prey to the more mundane traps? Maybe not. I doubted they weighed as much as, say, a giant rat. The carrion crawlers seemed to know to avoid the floor, as well. Not the time! Was this a magical trap? What else could have caused this?

I actually came up with the answer just as soon as my Arcana skill interjected:

—An effect similar to what happened in the memorial crypt—

I suppressed a sigh, then a groan. If we were deep in some dungeon under a graveyard, we’d have a whole mess to deal with once we got out.

“Alright, I think I’ll have this door open in a sec. I’m betting there’s a good chance there’ll be more undead on the other side, though. Be ready. How’re we doing on our side?”

I could tell she was facing away from me. “Nothing yet. Wait—got one. Skeleton, just inside my sight.”

“Try to save your smites. We might need them.”

Boney footsteps approached rapidly. There’s a tingly sensation one gets right up the spine when something with murderous intent charges towards one’s large, exposed back. I got more and more assertive with the rake as that tingle crawled higher and higher.

“Got it,” I said, with little enthusiasm. If there was another trap, I’d just have to take it; I might tumble into Alice if I leapt back.

I braced. Nothing but a large section of the wall slid softly into me. Alice had engaged the skeleton.

I slid my fingers around to find the side of the door. Finding it, I pulled it open.

There was light—not terribly bright, but enough. My brain hurt, suddenly processing the amount of information vision gives. To sum up: The walls were hewn stone, but the floor stones weren’t uniform. Walls were ten feet wide, ceiling ten feet high. Light flickered as though by fire. Before me was a stairwell leading up. Perhaps most importantly, there were no squirrels.

I spun around. Alice was flitting back and forth, using some poor fellow’s sternum to keep the skeleton occupied. The way she moved was…

Distracting. I marched forward. “Other side clear for now. Mind if I just…?”

She parried the skeleton’s fist, knocking it off balance. I used the opening to grab it by the ribs.

Whack! Using most of my weight, I slammed the thing up against a wall.

Crunch! The second time, cracks formed in distressing places.

By the third, it was just small, inert chunks of bone.

I let out a “Phew!” and smiled at Alice. “Hi. Nice to see you again.”

She looked up at me and returned a small smile. “How long ago did you come up with that one?”

She was cute. I probably should’ve been a lot more nervous during this whole ordeal.

“Soon as I couldn’t see. I wanted a one-liner to use once I finished the skeleton, but I couldn’t think of a good one. Best I had was ‘I have a bone to pick,’ but that would’ve only worked just before I grabbed it, so I thought of it too late.” I reapplied my smile. “And that’s how I distract myself from the craziness of this place. Hope this was helpful.”

Her smile fluctuated during that. At the end, though, it was gone and she was turning a pointed ear back the way we came. “There’s more craziness coming,” she said. “If you’d like to stay and figure out more catchphrases….”

“No, I’m good. And if my hunch is right, we’ll find more. The door opened as it unlocked, so it should lock again when it’s closed.”

“Great.” She turned for the staircase, bone weapon in hand. “It’s gentlemanly to let a lady go first.”

“Even into the unknown? I’ll keep that in mind.”

I pulled the door behind me as we went. It made a deep, satisfying clunk as it closed. “Anything up the stairs?” I asked.

“It looks like it ends in a wooden wall. Back side of another secret door?”

I glanced up the staircase. At the top there was a wall mounted torch, likely magical. “Fair guess. How big is this stairway? Forty feet? Geez.”

She started up. “Complaining about cardio?”

I followed. “No, which is unusual for me; I’m worried about how far down we are. Think there’s anyone on the other side up top?”

“Maybe.” She turned to give me a look without stopping. I was quick enough to be meeting her eyes when she added, “You said something about there being more?”

“Yeah, we encountered something that raised the dead around it.”

“It wasn’t blue fire, was it?”

I stared. “No, purple. Did you…?”

“We can talk about it later.” We had reached the top of the stairs. She was taking a couple fast breaths, bouncing on her toes and twirling her weapon. “Keep being a gentleman and throw open the door, will you?”

“Yes, m’lady,” I said with equal parts deference and playfulness. The door did look like a wall, just with a handle. No hinges in sight. I assumed it was push, grabbed the handle and had at it.

Nothing. Not a budge.

“Ah…. That’s a sliding door handle, isn’t it?” I whispered.

She smiled. “And after you’d stuck the landing on that ‘Yes’m’, too. What a waste.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I was probably blushing. “I traded smoothness for nerdiness years ago. I only cry about it every so often, now.”

I tried again, throwing my weight to the side. The door was heavy, but must’ve been well greased. It gave way in a short whir, slamming open.

Alice was out before it hit. She stood ready, surveying the room. I regained balance and followed her, magical limb ready to yank out some rage.

But there was no one, living or dead, inside. It looked like we were in a nice lounge—there were plush chairs and couches, low tables with orbs displayed on top, potted plants, art on the wall, a drink trolley, luminescent sculptures, the whole shebang. We had come out in a corner, and there was only one visible door leaving the room, which had been left ajar. I turned around, and saw that we had, in fact, come out from behind a bookcase. I slid it back into place from the hidden recess in the wall it had gone into.

“This place look a bit high class to you?” asked Alice, moving a finger along a couch back as she walked around it.

“Yeah,” I said. “For select, discerning clientele.” I had an idea what this was. “Want to raid their drink cart?” I added, brightly.

“Maybe for water. I’m not relaxing just yet.”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Sounds wise. Could you check the other side of that door?” I moved to the drinks. “Water should be in either a pitcher, or the largest glass carafe…this is probably it.” I took a silver pitcher. I was about to stick my nose in to smell before I remembered my junior high science lab training, which was also useful for D&D. I wafted the fumes toward my face with my hand. Seemed fine.

Alice had checked the door and didn’t feel anything was worth reporting. “What’s up with these crystal balls?” she asked.

I chose not to look. “I’m guessing they’re a method of viewing what goes on in the dungeon.” I downed the glass. It was water, all right. I poured two more.

“Oh, God,” breathed Alice. “This one is…. Wow, you really did hit your head, didn’t you?”

I snorted. “I could’ve told you that. They must have it on repeat, yeah? Pretty funny stu—“ I turned to hand her a glass, only to find she was right there, behind me. But for the height difference, our noses would’ve touched.

“Sit down.”

It was an order, and I obeyed, helped along by her. She kept a stare going at my forehead, leaning in to take a closer look. Our faces were inches apart. Her eyes, beautiful blue eyes, shifted down and held my own.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked.

I waited for my base instincts to roar in celebration, but they didn’t. All was quiet and steady. It was possible that, whatever my feelings for her were, they weren’t basic.

Or maybe they had all just clocked out and gone home; it was a long fucking day.

I set down one of the waters, held a finger up between our faces, reached for a glass carafe from the liquor tray, popped the stopper and took a swig. It was brandy, not half bad. I swished it for a second and swallowed.

“Sorry; I’ve been very worried about my breath,” I said.

She lingered for a second, letting a smile blossom before standing up. “Yeah, you’re fine.”

“Thanks for noticing. Don’t forget your water.”

She took it, shaking her head. After a gulp she said, “Guess we should ransack the place, yeah? I’m told that’s what D&D players do.”

“In the bad guy’s lair? You betcha!” I hopped up, suddenly energetic. “See anything good? That brandy was good.”

She pointed to a corner. “How about that large trunk?”

There was indeed a large trunk. “Wow, I hadn’t even noticed.” I skipped over to it.

“Uh, should we check it for traps?” she asked. Adorable.

“Just a cursory look. I doubt there’d be anything too deadly in a room they entertain hoity-toity guests.” I gave it a once-over. Everything seemed fine. “Want to place a bet on whether it’s lead-lined?”

“Lead-lined? The trunk?”

“Yep. To prevent divination spells. I’ve got a feeling…” The trunk was latched, but not locked. I started to open it, but it was quite a heavy lid. “…that our stuff is in here.” I heaved it the rest of the way.

My lute stared back at me.

I knew there was a chance Heller had taken it as a souvenir, or just destroyed it out of sheer dickishness, but there it was. I lifted it out of its dark jail and held it lovingly. My grin landed just this side of maniacal. “And now,” I said, “I have access to all my magic.” In a different crowd, I might’ve said, “At last, my arm is complete again!”

“I’m happy for you,” said Alice. “Now get out of the way so I can get my stuff.”

I tallied off my lute, a dagger, some coin and my clothes, including the very nice coat I’d bought. The rest of the party had everything else of mine, like my component pouch and armor. I gave Alice an appropriate amount of time to get dressed, then helped her don her studded leather.

“You really have a tiny waist,” I observed, adjusting a strap. “Almost Vera-Ellen-ish. Is this your usual size, or did picking elf have some impact on your physicality? Besides the ears, I mean.”

“Could you hold this?” she asked, having trouble with a bracer. I obliged. “No, I’m about the same I always was. Besides the ears. Believe me, whatever did this does not have as much of an effect as you might hope. My friend Laura chose elf, but she…” the thought trailed off.

“Died, right?” I said, softly. “Do you want to…?”

She let out the softest sigh, then made the gentlest smile. “I was going to say she stayed fat, even as an elf. Poor girl. I remember her looking so disappointed when we came here.” She held her other forearm up for more help.

I laughed in as inoffensive a way as I could. “Sounds like she was trying to make the most out of whatever all this is. Good for her.”

“You’re sure we can bring them back?”

She was looking down at nothing in particular. Her slender form looked so fragile.

I put a hand on her shoulder. She had been in near-hysterics when she asked last, and I had glossed over some obstacles, but we were in a less overtly dangerous place now, and she deserved the truth. “There’s a couple stipulations, but they shouldn’t be too hard to overcome.”

She looked up at me. “Stipulations such as…?”

“Well,” I said, arranging my thoughts. “Some things, like having the body present and what condition it’s in, can be overcome with more and more powerful spells—the most powerful, we’d only need the name of the person we want to bring back. Second, the soul has to want to come back.”

“Why wouldn’t they want to come back?”

I smiled. “There’s a definite afterlife in most D&D worlds. Souls often go there to chill for a time after death. If the person was particularly good, or worshiped a particularly nice god, they might enjoy themselves too much to come back. Also, the person will know the general alignment of the spell caster resurrecting them—moral alignment, as in whether they’re Good or Evil, both spelled with capital letters. If the person bringing them back is bad, or at least not aligned as they might expect their friends to be, the soul can refuse to return. Wouldn’t want to be a good guy and get stuck at the mercy of a bunch of evil guys, would you?”

She was nodding. “So you’re saying there’s no guarantee.”

“I’m saying it will be entirely their choice. I have a sneaking suspicion Laura would jump at the chance to spend more time in D&D land. Am I right?”

She laughed, which felt good for both of us. “Maybe. She was here with her brother, who’s a chore. She might like to know if he’s coming back, too.”

I grinned. “We’ll keep that in mind.” I looked her up and down. “Are you set? Anything else?”

“I think that’s it,” she said, leaning over the trunk for a last look. “What about you? Did you want anything from here?”

I was about to wave a hand dismissively when a thought struck me. “Actually, yes, now that I think about it.” I went to the nearest pillow and drew my dagger. A quick slice opened it, and I removed a pinch of the feathers stuffing it.

“Just in case,” I said, placing the down in my breast pocket. “What was on the other side of the door?”

She moved to it. “Just a hallway. Ends in one of those doors that has a sliding lookout thing,” she said, motioning to illustrate.

“Might lead outside. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“It would. I’d love to see the sun,” she said, leading the way.

The hall was pretty nondescript; no furniture or paraphernalia whatsoever. It wasn’t even illuminated, so I left the door to the lounge open. The door at the end looked like a normal door, not like the back side of a secret door, so I suggested, “Want to look through the peephole?”

She did so, sliding the little plate to one side. I could feel cool air come in. It must’ve led outside. She shifted around the hole, getting a better view.

“It’s nighttime. I think this is in an alley,” she said.

My blood ran cold. “An alley? Do you think we’re still in Colme?”

“I don’t know, maybe? Hang on.” Her ears twitched. “I can hear screaming.”

I swore. “We need to get outside. I thought we were locked away in a secret castle or crypt or something, but if this is a city…”

The door wasn’t locked, even from our side. She swung it open and we went out.

I looked down both ways. There were buildings in every direction; this was Colme. I swore some more, and ran for one end.

“Hey, don’t go by yourself!” called Alice.

“I think whatever raised the dead in that dungeon is affecting the dead here, too,” I called back. I could hear the screams, now. I got out of the alley and into the street.

The lamplight wasn’t the best for illumination, but damn if it didn’t give the sight a horrific tone. There were zombies shambling about, and to one side I could see a small urban cemetery currently lacking all of its tenants, if the holes in the ground were any indication. Some zombies were bashing away at doors, others were making their way to any sounds they heard, including me. They were a ways away, though.

Alice caught up. “Oh no. How many zombies are we talking? The whole city?”

I shook my head. “They don’t make you a zombie by biting you, they just try to kill you—which, if this purple flame thing is what’s causing this, probably does turn you into a zombie! I don’t know how they bury their dead or how long Colme’s been a city, but there could be any number.”

She grabbed my hand. “I need to get you out of here.”

I nodded and trailed along. “Yeah, we can outrun these guys and look for what’s causing this.”

“What’s causing this? It’s not our problem!” she said. “We need to get out of town! They have guards or whatever. Let them take care of it.”

“What? No!” I yelled. “My friends might still be in the city, and we’re the only ones who have an idea on how to stop this!”

“Are you kidding? The city’s a war zone and the people in charge want us dead! Don’t be a hero!”

I slipped from her grip and planted my feet. “I’m not a hero,” I said. The memory of the slave boy flashed in my head. “Heck, I’m not even a decent human being a lot of the time. I don’t really care about this city; if someone told me it burned, like most people I’d say ‘oh, how terrible!’ and get on with my life. But that’s not the same as turning away from it as it’s burning. That’s the kind of thing that’ll work its way into your soul and make you hate yourself. And don’t get me wrong; if I thought there was someone else who could stop this, I’d ask them and happily walk away. Or help, if they needed it. But there’s no one. It’s just me. I’m the one who’s here and can do something. And maybe my friends if they’re still around. They’d charge in without thinking twice…but they’re much better people than I am. At the end of the day, I suppose they’re the ones I have to be able to look in the eye…but never mind that. Oh, and for all I know, they may need me to put a stop to this, regardless.” I shook my head. “So I have to help. I’m not a hero; I’m a coward who’s been shoved into a corner, and I’m more afraid of what doing nothing will do to me.”

I was surprised I had all of that in me. For that whole speech, it felt like my soul was vomiting—refreshing afterwards, but disgusting during.

Alice looked at me, her lips tight and her brow creased in the middle. Then she looked behind me, then back. “All right,” was all she said.

I took a breath. “Great. Now, that purple fire could be anywhere. The effect goes through stone, but doesn’t travel so fast that you can’t discern direction if you’re paying attention, so we need to find someone—“

“Jack,” said Alice.

“Uh, what?”

She didn’t say anything else. She just pointed a finger behind me and upwards.

I turned. “Oh,” I said. There, a few hundred feet up, was the top of the new beacon they’d been constructing. The beacon was lit. The flame was purple. It held itself up in the night sky, a bright light amidst the twinkling stars.

My jaw clenched. My DM instincts told me that if finding the cause was this easy, stopping it was going to be the hard part.

I looked back at her. “I need your help, Alice. Will you come with me?”

There was the briefest pause, then her face hardened. “I’m not leaving you. Let’s go.”