“Fucking... WHAT?!” Rory stood, mouth open, staring at the space where Roshana had been.

Layla sagged down, laying over Maggie’s unconscious body, tears rolling down her face.

“Did… she just… take a fucking pass on killing us… because you recognized a quote?” Jack was as dumbfounded as the salesman.

“I… I don’t know,” Erin abruptly sat down.

“And… did she just… give us a quest?” he continued.

Erin was silent. Suddenly, Layla sat up.

“No. Fuck this. Don’t humanize her. This is like that fucking episode of Doctor Who with the chubby green aliens, where one of em tells him she let some kid go instead of killing her, and he tells her she’s full of shit. That psycho monster having a human moment cause we have the same favorite book doesn’t mean shit,” Layla growled through the stream of tears and angrily slammed her hand down.

“Wha’ the hell did ah do ta yeh ta deserve that?” Maggie groaned beneath Layla’s fist.

“Fuck, Maggie! Here, I’ve got some left in the tank,” the succubus leaned down and kissed the dwarf’s cheek, releasing a soft crystalline glow as healing energy flowed into her.

“YOU CAN DO THAT WITH A KISS ON THE CHEEK!?” Erin shouted incredulously at her.

The succubus sat up abruptly, eyes wide.

“I… umm… I feel like... this isn’t the time to talk about this,” she stumbled.

Erin buried her face in her hands, and slowly a soft sound began to escape from the dreadnought as she shook.

She was laughing.

“We… ha… we’re so fucked… hahhhh… oh, god. Fuck,” she took several deep breaths, too fast.

Jack sat down next to her and cradled the dreadnought in his arms as her laughter turned into sobs.

“I really thought that was it. Our ticket was punched,” he took a deep, unnecessary breath and blew out a heavy sigh.

“How do we know she’s not still here?” Rory’s footsteps crunched on the gravel trail as he paced.

“We don’t, but fuck, what could we even do about it?” the nightbringer replied.

“Wha… wha happened?” Maggie groaned, still laid out.

“Well, you fired your death beam and chopped the devil’s hand off,” Layla responded.

“The technique hurt the bitch?!” Maggie’s eyes widened and a manic grin crept onto her face.

“I mean… it chopped her arm off. She didn’t seem too fussed about it, though, and some kinda crazy string-worms shot out of the stump and reattached it,” Layla shrugged.

“But it hurt her. Ah knew it. Ah knew Twilight were the key,” the dwarf sat up and giggled.

“What does that mean, Maggie?” Rory interjected.

“Some hybrid magics are harder ta learn than others, boyo. Some are forbidden, like the Ash path, made o’ Flame an’ Wood. Let’s yeh burn yer body up fer temporary power. Twilight is the hybrid between Day an’ Night,” the dwarf grinned, then winced as she tried to right herself and get up.

“I get it,” Layla smiled. “You’re a night priest, so you already had Night, and you needed Day to combine with Wood to get Healing… so it’s just a step from there. What does Twilight do?”

The dwarf wiped her face with her hand, then pulled out a cloth to clean up the blood that had run from her eyes and nose.

“Tis the element of the void, of annihilation. The two cannae coexist, and so they erase everything they touch,” Maggie explained solemnly.

“That’s metal as fuck,” Layla smiled darkly.

“Dinnae matter, do it? Decades ah spent in that hole, an’ the moment it really matters, ah go an’ fuck it all up,” she sighed.

“See, that’s what’s bothering me, though,” Rory cut in.

The salesman had been pacing steadily, his brain working at a feverish pace.

“We didn’t mention her, at all. The whole way back up. We barely said a bloody word, for hours. We didn’t fuck this up,” he turned back toward the other Chosen.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Wait, do you think Haley found us because of something we did?” Jack laughed grimly.

“Did she nae?” Maggie looked up.

“Of course not. She’s a veteran hunter and a cop. She probably canvassed Split Watch, Bottom, and Olvayn’s Lift, paying people off for information, then tracked us up the mountainside when she established we’d been here. We’re not exactly a subtle bunch,” he chuckled bitterly.

“But that wasn’t Haley, really,” Erin sniffled.

“Yeah, it was. You saw her struggling, trying to resist. I bet that bitch has some kind of face-hugger power, or brain worms, or…” Jack suddenly shivered at the implication.

“No, remember, back at the Yam, Maggie told us she eats them, and then spits people back up to walk around… like meat puppets, you said, right?” Layla turned to the dwarf.

“Aye. Ah’ve seen it. She eats ‘em, the way a slime would, then yeh see ‘em walkin’ around again later, like ghosts,” the dwarf’s gaze was a thousand miles away, lost in some horrible memory.

Jack slowly let Erin go, then rose with a grunt.

“We’re getting off track here. She didn’t just let us go for fun. She’s the Mother of Horrors. The End of Heroes, right? She’s killed whole cities just to get at one of us. There’s some play here. She didn’t just grow a heart because Layla likes Bram Stoker,” he growled.

“She said to go the Dry Vault and clear it. Do you think there’s something she wants in the dungeon?” Erin dried her eyes.

“No, she could rip through the whole thing in a heartbeat,” Rory added.

“There has to be a reason she wants us to do it,” Jack scratched his head.

“Maggie, what level did you say the Vault was, toward the bottom?” Layla eyes slowly widened.

“Many believe the guardian must be near the seventh, lass. Why?” the dwarf responded.

“What… what’s the lowest level a tier ten can get XP from?” her face slowly took on a horrified expression.

“Oh, Signs,” Maggie’s breath went out in a gut-punched sigh.

The others’ anxiety spiked as Layla’s horror only grew.

“She wants to farm us for XP,” the succubus looked up, her face a stricken mask of terror.

“I don’t understand,” Erin’s voice wavered.

“She wants us to clear the dungeon, because it’ll get us to sixty, or maybe even seventy, and it can’t be much higher than that when she starts getting experience from fighting us,” a tear rolled down Layla’s cheek.

“We’re only mid-thirties. There’s no way we can get thirty levels from one dungeon,” Rory hedged.

“Then she’ll send us to another one. Watch. I bet you anything. If we manage to clear it, and we’re not high enough, she’ll send us to another dungeon. Oh god, she’s gonna push us like crazy, until we’re high enough that she can level off us,” the succubus’ voice broke as she finished.

Rory leaned down and folded her into his arms.

“But… won’t we get strong enough to fight her for real eventually?” Erin asked.

“Tha’s why she kills yeh one by one,” Maggie’s eyes began to fill with tears.

“What does that mean?” Erin was rapidly losing her composure.

The dwarf walked toward the edge of the footpath, staring out into the night sky over the Hollow.

“She killed Brandon’s group one at a time, from the beginnin’. She waits until yeh can fight her, just a bit. Then she attacks, forcin’ yeh ta fight her, sharpenin’ each other like a steelin’ rod. An’ when yer just strong enough that the four o’ yeh might be a problem together, she’ll kill one o’ yeh ta even the odds again. Then she’ll let yeh grow again, like some psychotic farmer, before she trims yeh back again. Until only one o’ yeh is left. An’ by then, yeh will’ve watched all yer friends die horr’ble deaths. Tha’s why they all hide from her. Oh, Depths,” the dwarf turned back to look at the Chosen, tears filling her eyes.

“Ah’m so sorry ‘bout what ah said, Jack. About the Chosen bein’ cowards. Ah dinnae understand,” she pleaded.

“Why didn’t you figure this out before?” Rory’s eyes narrowed.

“The bitch never sent Brandon anywhere. At least, he never mentioned it. He were already so strong when she finally found him. Ah know his bunch managed ta hurt her when they still had three, and Brandon could injure her before he went ta sea,” she sniffled.

“So, what’s the vote? We gonna lay down and die, or we gonna grind our way to the point we can spit in this bitch’s eye before she gets her pound of flesh?” Jack’s voice was unwavering, filled with conviction, no trace of doubt.

“I just… Jackson, I don’t see how we could… she’s been doing this for hundreds of years,” Layla wiped her tears away.

“This is how. We go-” he began, clenching his fist.

Rory had let go of Layla and moved toward Jack while they were talking. He interrupted the nightbringer by putting a hand over his mouth.

“You were not literally about to explain your plan, in the open, while we are on the run from an invisible, body-snatching, nightmare monster that could still be here listening? Were you?” the salesman eyed him, then slowly removed his hand.

“I mean, I guess not,” the nightbringer hung his head in shame.