Mark and I continue our way down the spiraling path. Layer by layer, we clear; letting what humans we rescue know that it’d be up to them to remove their bonds, and up to them to make it all the way up to the liberated gatehouse. By then, he and William are the ones doing the killing of the captured Efrans, as Janet stands back lording over the fact that she didn’t have to lift a finger. Bear it for now, Monica...once Lawrence has your parents safe and sound, you’ll leave here and join him. You’ll never have to do this again. You’ll save hundreds of lives; both human and nonhuman. Just...get this over with.

The further down we get, the brighter it becomes. More of the glowing moss grew on the walls and the stalactites reached down from the ceilings. How vast was this town? Once Mark and I clear a layer about four or five layers down from the first, I notice a small opening at the end of the cave where the fogwall was, and as the prisoners worked to free the others from their cages before Janet came I press my face against the fogwall. The gel-like substance gave way a little as I peered inside. Through that small crevice, I could make out buildings and streets, and moving creatures just beyond. Another portion of it. How many parallel layers were there? I’ve seen how wide the city above was, perhaps there are smaller underground towns that circle it from underneath. A mental map forms in my mind with this long, diving chamber as the centerpiece of a vast underground tunnel network. I walk to the end of this town as Janet, William, and Lawrence’s brother execute the chained Efrans.

“This is disgusting,” Shawn says with a sneer as I approach him near the yawning maw as I peer to the other side. His arms crossed over his chest. “Look. Janet’s smiling while she strikes down a child...I’m reporting this behavior to the higher-ups when we get back. This is an abuse of authority.”

“Why don’t you stop them, then?” I ask.

“Why don’t you?” He looks me over, “You’re not strong enough? Well, I’m not strong enough to take on the entire military to stop these abuses with violence.”

“Do you think something like that would stop Lawrence if he saw this?”

Shawn snorts.

“He’s a terrorist. How many people do you think he’s killed now? If not directly, then indirectly through taking them to Roki.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“What do you m—“

I hold my hand up.

“We got company.”

From below, an orderly file of Ratmen spots us. Before either of us could react, one of them rips a horn off their belt and blows into it. A great billowing roar emerges from the rungs lower in the abyss as a horde of ratmen rushes out of the open maw. Shawn’s wooden bracer — the Burl as he called it, formed into a round shield, and he drew a javelin from the quiver on his hip; a wild smile splayed across his face.

“Oh, this is going to be fun~” His voice sang as he stood at the edge of the precipice, cocked his arm back, and took aim at one of the largest sections of the forming horde.

I press my hands to my ears just before he lets loose.

Boom.

The shattering of the sound barrier shook the entire cave and was made all the louder by the stone catching the sound and resounding it all across the abyss.

“You fucking, DUMB BASTARD,” Janet screams.

Blood trickles down her left ear. William works to heal the eardrums of the three of them. Janet drew her hatchets, and crackling blue lightning danced around her. Even at this distance, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge. As she steps forward, the arcing lightning surrounding her strikes a couple of the humans running for cover, or to climb the ramp to take cover in the gatehouse as I had recommended. The people fall, shaking onto the ground. No one reacted, though, as they let the people struck by her lightning die. I was disgusted with myself. Disgusted with all of the people here with me. As soon as Lawrence frees my parents, I’m running away and spending my life making up for these sins. I squeeze my eyes shut and quietly apologize to the dead as I draw my saber and dagger and get ready to fight our way down.

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William pulled a handful of poisoned caltrops from his bag and tossed them all along the path up. They slide down toward the edge of the horde. The first few ranks of climbing ratmen stepped on the caltrops. They hiss for a second, before falling over and foaming at their mouths. I run to the slope, draw in a lungful of air, and exhale it in a massive Billow that sweeps dozens of feet downwards. The gale-force winds smashed against the oncoming horde. Dozens of ratmen are laid low, and dozens more are swept off the edge of the slope, falling into the abyss.

Mark emerges from the small alcove, and fires five quick shots over the heads of the approaching horde. Each arrow explodes into flaming splinters that fall over the heads of the ratmen. Across the gap, a squadron of about fifteen dogmen; the first we’ve seen in the cave, began to walk on the air towards us. Mark tries to shoot them down, but his arrows are deflected by the flat sides of their blades. I draw in a lungful of air step off the edge of the path, and sprint at them over the void.

I slash in the air in front of me; a spinning arc of gale of wind howls out and slams into the front dogman. Its body is flung backward and goes flipping down into the depths. I release the air in my lungs for a moment as one of the dogmen swings in a horizontal arc toward my throat, falling a head before taking in more air, somersaulting, and swinging through the creature’s ankle. Its body, too, falls down to join the other. I take in my air, and lift my blade up to parry the downward blow of a scimitar; pushing me down through the air. I kick off the air, rocketing backward. I circulate the air mana in my lungs before blowing a column of air upward. Two dogmen are swept up in the flow and are knocked airward. I draw in the air again, as the remaining windwalkers fall upon me.

I catch one of the blades on my shoulder. It sinks in deep, and I hiss out a bit of my air. I fall a bit before I catch my breath once more. I draw my dagger and slam it up into the dogman’s ribs. I roll forward out of the way of the falling body and stab forward with my saber into the creature’s throat. I cast Wind Lance, and it explodes through the dogman’s flesh and slams into the chest of the dogman behind it. It’s flung back and crashes into the ranks of the ratmen being held back by Janet, Mark, and Oak.

I finish off another; parrying its scimitar, lopping off its wrist, and jamming my dagger through its throat before a black shadow roars toward me. I lift my blade up to deflect a heavy blow that knocks me dozens of feet down through the air. I send the wind mana at my feet to my back as I slam into the side of the wall, and all the mana in my lungs is pushed out.

A large canine figure, like a gray wolf, bared down on me with a raised, silvery glaive over its head. I push off the wall just in time for the creature’s stab to slam into the stone wall. I drew in a lungful of air, circled around it, pushed off the air, and rocketed forward. Before I even reached it, it kicked backward into my chest. I was tossed backward by the force, as it rushed forward in a heavy stab. I parry to blade with the flat of mine, and it slides away from my body. I stab forward with my dagger into the large wolf’s arm in an attempt to disarm it. The blade slammed into the creature’s elbow, but my dagger shattered as it failed to pierce through the bone.

The creature lifts up its forearm and slams it into my ribs. I feel one or two of them cracking as I’m sent rocketing down once more until I collide against the sloped ground on the path; a patch of glowing moss about a hundred or so feet behind the last rank of the ratmen horde in front of an ornate door

The gray wolf fell upon me with a downward stab. I rolled away as the point of the glaive parted through the moss and the earth, I sprang to my feet and slashed at him after coating my sword in air mana. The blow was ineffective, so I retreated a couple of steps up the slope as he swung his glaive in an awful arc toward me.

“A volley, oh djinn,” I mutter as I draw the runes for wind and flame in the air in front of me as quickly as I could.

Four darts of wind and flame fly forth and collide against the creature’s large body, and die quickly as flows of wind burst out from him. Wind mana begins to coalesce around his throat, so I draw in air as well. From his mouth emerged a pillar of wind, I respond in kind.

The two opposing Billows collide against one another. The winds howled as they merged into one another and formed a cyclone that knocked the both of us back. I hear something approaching from behind, and I pirouette to the side to avoid a stab from a ratman. I swing downward and lop off the creature’s extended arm.

“Dance for me, oh thou daughters of the wind.”

A gale bursts out from me and knocks the screaming creature to the side and off the edge into the abyss. The gray wolf charged forward, and I formed the mana of the spell from a dome into a vortex, pointed toward the wolf. The creature held its glaive out in front of it in an attempt to break the howling wind. The force, however, knocked it off its feet. I take the opportunity to rush forward. I stabbed down into the creature’s face. The point of my saber broke apart, but I pushed harder until the hilt of my shattered blade was stuck within its eye. Blood flowed down its face, and pooled on its throat, but it was still alive. I pick up its glaive and drive its point through its heart. Simply holding the glaive makes the flow of air mana around me all the more obvious.

My lungs felt fit to burst, and my sides ached; a couple of my ribs were obviously broken, and I probably had a hair fracture on one of my vertebrae as bending my back was painful. I need some time to recuperate and allow my body to mend itself. I use the glaive as a crutch to hobble over to the ornate building. I pull open the towering door and step in. It was a large temple; it’s ceilings high and vaunted, and adorned with boughs of glowing moss that illuminated the ground, but kept the highest parts of it in shadow. Near the door was the mutilated corpse of an elderly man; his intestines strewn out across the floors, rotting. At the far end of the room was the hunched figure of a ratman hovering over the stripped body of a child on an altar that I, at once, recognized. It was the niece of the owner of the motel keeper. Dylan.