Ayn’s heart pounded. “Sheyric!”
The healer appeared at her side, a hand dropping to caress the top of Miit’s head. Miit tried to purr, trembled, and stopped.
“Can you heal him?” Ayn forced the words around the lump in her throat.
Sheyric’s hand glowed blue in response. Miit’s injuries stayed. Sheyric tried a moment longer, then pulled his hand back. “No.”
Ayn nodded in defeat. Miit bumped his head against her chest. Cheer up, the motion said, it’s not that bad. As if to prove his point, Miit shimmied up her chest and wrapped himself around her neck, settling in as if it was just another day and he needed a nap.
Bren walked stiffly over to Ayn and kneeled. “I’m sorry. He only got hit trying to protect me from my own stupidity.”
Ayn gritted her teeth and stayed silent. A part of her wanted nothing more than to lash out at Bren, to make him feel half the pain he’d inflicted on Miit. The other part reminded her of her own failings, of far worse things she’d caused out of sheer recklessness. She had no ground to stand on.
“Can you teleport out of here?” Ayn asked.
Miit nuzzled her cheek, then shook his head. Ayn’s heart dropped. She’d figured, given how little he’d been teleporting lately and how hurt he was, that he’d be too weak to do so.
She eased up onto her feet, careful not to jostle Miit. Ayn had spent so long ignoring the most dangerous rule of the Dungeon. When a party entered a floor, the entrance gate sealed behind them. The only way out was by someone’s death—as soon as a party member died, the entrance reopened. It was called the “Sacrificial Rule”, but familiars didn’t count. Ayn couldn’t get him out, and his death wouldn’t get them out, either. She’d buried that fact under the excuse that Rebirths, by their nature, would Rebirth on death. Familiars didn’t have that luxury. Each one was born when a summoner called for it, and each one died with its summoner. Except Miit. He’d hung on, but the end would come. He’d die, and return as data to The System, never to be born again.
Sheyric stayed close to Ayn’s side as she moved toward the next cloud bridge in the distance. Only by beating the floor could she get Miit out. She didn’t know how she was going to finish the floor and keep Miit safe, but she wasn’t about to give up.
Whatever had beaten them to the ground now lay scattered around the cloud, the hills they came from deflated. The objects were round, a little larger than Ayn’s palm, and had a simple, geometric design etched into deep grooves on one side. Ayn couldn’t tell if the things were alive, or how they fit the theme of the floor. She scowled and kicked at them as she passed.
The two mobs on the next cloud were easy to identify. With large, brown manes surrounding blunt-nosed, somewhat feline faces, and thick, jiggling bodies ending in flippers, Ayn could only think of one name to give them—Sea Lions. In any other situation, she’d have rolled her eyes and laughed. All she could manage was a growl. The Sea Lions were in the way.
“Ayn.”
Sheyric’s voice was low, yet insistent. It cut through her tunnel vision like a knife. “What?”
Sheyric stepped back at the vehemence in her tone, yet quickly stepped back up to pet Miit. “Let me carry him.”
“No.”
“He’ll get hurt.”
Ayn scowled as she wracked her brain for a way to refute Sheyric. Her mood soured further when she realized she couldn’t. If she tried to fight while balancing Miit on her shoulders, it wouldn’t end well for either of them. Miit allowed Sheyric to pet him, and even seemed to enjoy it, yet something still bothered Ayn.
“Show me your face.”
Sheyric’s hand withdrew, his gaze dropping to his feet.
Ayn had stayed out of his business, content with having a healer no matter how mysterious or unreliable he had been. But, if he expected her to trust him with Miit, he needed to show some trust first.
Sheyric continued to stare at his feet, and Ayn had almost decided to walk off and take her chances when his hood bobbed up and down.
“Just you.” He straightened up, grabbed his hood, and pulled it back just far enough for Ayn to see his face while still shielding him from Kayara and Bren, who stood a healthy distance away, huddled together as they fought their respective fears. Straight silver hair cascaded around deep purple eyes and a refined face as thin as the rest of him.
“Thanks,” Ayn said flatly.
Sheyric pulled his hood back into place, clasping his hands in front of him as if it would hide the trembling.
Ayn had expected to recognize him. After all, why try to hide your face unless you were afraid of someone you knew? She’d assumed him to be a local, yet she’d never seen him before. At least not in his current life. A child’s face formed in her mind, full of fear and worry. She shook it away. It didn’t make sense. If Tayla Rebirthed, she’d have no reason to hide. No one would recognize her, anyway. As for Rav and Neu…well, that was impossible.
“Fine,” Ayn said. “Take him. But if he gets hurt…”
“I know.”
If he could have seen the things she had planned if he failed to protect Miit, Ayn doubted he would have agreed so readily. But he’d done as she asked, and whatever his secret, it seemed to have nothing to do with her.
Sheyric stooped, aligning his shoulders with Ayn’s. Miit crawled onto his new perch with a mewl that made Ayn’s chest constrict.
“Not a hair,” she said through gritted teeth. She turned her apprehension, anger, and frustration onto the two Sea Lions in her way, and pounced.
The Sea Lions barked. A wave of visible sound wobbled through the air, enveloping Ayn as her shield refreshed.
103 POINTS OF ABSORBTION REMAINING
Aegis of Agility was quickly becoming her favorite skill.
The shield blocked the damage of their attacks but couldn’t block the effects. Ayn’s movement slowed to a crawl. The Sea Lions bared two sets of fangs as thick as Ayn’s fingers and closed in on their stunned prey. Their bodies undulated as they flopped along the cloud’s surface, wiggling up and down in a ridiculous sight at odds with the killing intent in their eyes.
Ayn didn’t know whether to laugh or scream in frustration, and could do neither, anyway. The Sea Lions collided with the shield’s bubble. Their faces mushed, their pudgy torsos shortening, then stretching back out like jelly.
98 POINTS OF ABSORBTION REMAINING
The Sea Lions took it in stride. As soon as they stopped jiggling, they lunged forward, mouths agape, and bit at Ayn’s shield.
The iridescent bubble popped.
AEGIS OF AGILITY ON COOLDOWN
FIVE MINUTES REMAINING
Ayn muted the reminder and focused on her limbs. The slowing effect of the Sea Lion’s roar was wearing off, but her movements were still sluggish. She’d intended to stab one while they decided their next move, yet only blocked one’s teeth as it tried to take a chunk out of her middle. The second Sea Lion aimed low, and Ayn knew she had no chance to do anything about it.
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Kayara slid by on her back, rainbow ponytail fanned out behind her and a dagger pointed out, where it sunk into the second Sea Lion’s blubber. The Sea Lion roared as the last vestiges of sluggishness vanished from Ayn’s body. Her sabers flashed. Each hit sunk to the hilt in soft flesh. The Sea Lion writhed, but without the slowing effect, Ayn was far faster. Ayn danced between the two mobs until blood coated her blades, her armor, and the floor.
QUEST “KILL TWO SEA LIONS” COMPLETED
The Sea Lions had disintegrated into a couple of hides. The boiling anger in Ayn had only grown. She was supposed to protect Miit, just like she was supposed to protect Tayla. She’d sworn when she’d Rebirthed into her new character that she’d never again let another get hurt because of her, and all she’d done was fail, repeatedly.
“Ayn…”
Ayn glared at Kayara, who went quiet and backed away. A small worm of guilt crawled through the red haze, but Ayn couldn’t give in to it, not right now. Not until they’d all got out of the Dungeon in one piece.
The hides went ignored as Ayn waited at the new pier. Another giant sea turtle with a deep blue shell floated in the distance.
42 GOLD RECIEVED
Ayn’s attention snapped to beside her, where Sheyric kneeled in front of a chest. “Don’t let Miit move around!”
Sheyric shot up. “Sorry!”
His apology, not mumbled like usual but shouted, startled the rest of Ayn’s tirade into silence. “Fine. Just keep him as still as you can.”
Ayn crossed her arms and stared at the turtle lazily making its way to the pier. Her party had just started the floor, and it had already gone to crap. On the first two floors, she’d fought to keep the party together despite their shortcomings. Now she was beginning to see the fault in her own plan.
Sheyric shuffled up to her, Miit practically melted across his shoulders, and held out a hand. A silver necklace with a teardrop opal rested in his palm. “From the chest. For you.”
The worm of guilt came back. It burrowed into her mind, took root, and blossomed. What was she doing? The atmosphere around the party had grown cold and heavy, and it was her fault.
“Thanks,” she muttered with all the enthusiasm she could muster.
Opal Necklace of Strength
Minimum Lv. 2
+5 Strength
“It’s nice.” Ayn equipped it. She concentrated on the weight of it against her neck, using it to distract her from the ache in her heart.
Sheyric didn’t respond, instead turning to regard the turtle alongside her. Kayara had come up on her other side, one arm looped around Bren’s neck. By the strained look on his face and the half-crazed look in Kayara’s eye, it wasn’t a show of affection.
Ayn’s guilt grew. “Kayara, I’m—”
“Later,” Kayara said. “Let’s just focus on clearing the floor. We can clear other things later, yeah?”
The ranger had said it with a smile, but the tension in her words was as clear as in her arm. Ayn ground her teeth. Whether she caused the current discord or not, waiting until after they’d fought another boss or two to make things right seemed like a bad idea. Still, if she pushed when the others weren’t ready, it would make things worse. Ayn batted the problem back and forth, coating it in the fear and anger she had in spades. By the time the blue turtle pulled alongside the pier, her thoughts were fully drenched and whipped into a mess.
Sheyric went first, each step carefully placed in slow succession, all traces of his previous enthusiasm gone. Kayara went next, dragging Bren along in a chokehold and leaving Ayn to muddle up the steps alone. She chose a seat near Sheyric. One hand drifted up to stroke Miit’s head. Sheyric kept his eyes forward, and they all drifted to the next cloud in awkward silence.
The blue turtle had turned, settling itself against the next pier to let them off. Ayn had spent the ride assessing Miit. She’d traced the shape of his shoulder and wing where they bulged and dipped in strange ways. Blood had seeped from one side of the wing attachment, soaking into the back of Sheyric’s cloak and dying it a rust red. The bloody patch wasn’t large. Plus, it had already started to dry. Miit wouldn’t bleed out, but that wasn’t the only worry Ayn had. As a familiar, his healing should have been near instantaneous, as it had been when her father held his contract. That contract had dissolved on her father’s death, and Miit’s healing had gradually slowed since. A few months ago, a spooked hen had given him a deep scratch. That scratch had taken two months to heal. How much longer would these injuries take?
“Look,” Sheyric said.
Ayn forced her eyes away from her familiar. Her stomach twisted into a knot.
A clam the size of the turtle they rode on sat in the center of the cloud. Little clams, miniscule by the central one’s standards, yet still a good three feet in width, surrounded it. Where the massive clam’s shell was a dull tan, the little ones stood in clusters of blue, green, red, and yellow, three to a group. Ayn knew what that meant. Each group had a role to play in the upcoming fight, and it would require focus and teamwork—two things they lacked more than ever.
“That’s a boss,” Ayn said, more to herself than anyone else. “With a lot of color-coded minions.”
“Yes,” Sheyric said.
Ayn looked back at Bren and Kayara, who both sat as far from Sheyric as they could. Bren’s face had turned a deep burgundy, his eyes wide and bloodshot.
“Uh, Kayara,” Ayn said. “You might want to loosen that chokehold a little.”
Kayara scowled, but did so, letting her arm drop to her side. She jerked her chin toward the giant clam. “What the hell are we going to do about the red light, green light squad over there? Doesn’t look like brute force is the way to go.”
“No. I don’t think so, either. Those colors mean something. Could just be marking magic damage mobs from healers, from shielders, and such.”
“So which color means which?”
“Sequence,” Sheyric muttered.
Kayara’s face lit up. “Oh! Like you have to kill red before blue or whatever. Have you seen something like this before?”
“Yes.”
“Great! Could you tell us about it?”
Sheyric shook his head. “Not the same.”
“It won’t be exactly the same, but anything would give us a place to start.”
“Spit it out, Sheyric,” Ayn snapped.
Sheyric flinched, Miit complained about the sudden movement, and Kayara scowled.
“I’m sorry….” Ayn gripped the pommels of her sabers until her knuckles turned white. “I just—”
“Rainbow,” Sheyric said.
“Huh?”
“Rainbow pattern.”
Ayn glanced back at the four clusters of shells. There wasn’t enough to make a rainbow, although she supposed she could attack in the order of primary colors. “Anything else?”
“Stop and Go.”
Kayara had mentioned that. But what Stop and Go used four colors? Ayn ground her teeth together. “What else?”
“Puzzle pattern?”
“Yes, I know that. It’s probably a pattern we…”
Ayn went silent. The blue-tinted shell of the turtle they stood on was an oddly smooth shade, almost as if it had been dipped in paint with minimal shading. She walked to the front of the shell and peered down at the turtle’s head. Its leathery skin held a distinct yellow hue. “What color was the first turtle?”
“Red shell, green skin,” Kayara said.
“There’s our four colors, then.”
“Now we need to figure out what order to attack them in.”
Bren, seeing how Kayara was distracted, shuffled a few feet away, then noticing the edge of the turtle’s shell, shuffled back. He sighed, slumping in misery. “What are you talking about?”
“Clams and turtles, Choir Boy,” Kayara said. “Keep up.”
Confusion played across Bren’s face, and Ayn took pity on him. “The colors of the turtles are the same as the four clusters of clams. Since they all stick out, they’re probably hints. We rode the green and red turtle first, so we probably have to take out green or red first. But how do you read a turtle?”
Bren’s brows furrowed even more. “Read a turtle?”
“Well,” Kayara said, ignoring Bren, “Left to right is out of the question, so what about top to bottom? We touch the shells first, after all.”
Ayn nodded. “So that would mean green, then red, then—”
“No. Both!”
Ayn frowned at Kayara’s outburst. “What do you mean?”
“Two turtles with two colors each. We don’t have to ‘read’ it at all. We have to hit both colors at the same time.”
“But that would mean attacking six mobs at once.”
Kayara shrugged. “Not the worst odds I can imagine. You take three, I take three, the boys watch.”
“What about the giant clam, or the six other little ones? Are we hoping they don’t aggro?”
“Of course they’ll aggro. We’ll just have to kill our targets quickly.”
“Bren could—”
“No. Bren needs to sit out until the first six clams are down. If this really is a pattern challenge, what do you think will happen if we hit the wrong color?”
“I’m standing right here,” Bren grumbled.
“Do you have anything to add?” Kayara asked.
Bren scowled and turned his attention to the turtle’s shell.
“Besides, you need to focus on keeping Sheyric and Miit safe. You three will stay on the edges of the arena and keep a low profile until we’re done with the green and red clams. Don’t do anything to draw attention. But if something does take notice, blast it before it gets close. Better to screw up the pattern than have someone die.”
When Kayara had said “someone”, her eyes had flicked toward Sheyric and Miit. Ayn smiled in spite of herself. It seemed Kayara was making good on her promise to get more comfortable around Miit.
Ayn breathed deep, steadying herself for the fight ahead. If the animal-phobic ranger was putting in so much effort for her, she couldn’t let her down. Ayn focused on her targets, shoving all else from her mind. The red and green clams clustered on opposite sides of the boss arena, with the massive clam settled in between. She’d be cut off from Kayara and on her own as soon as the battle started.
“I’ll use my potions and shield if I get hurt.” Ayn stared at Sheyric. “Don’t heal me or Kayara until we kill the red and green clams. If one of us dies, run. Understood?”
Sheyric’s hood bobbed up and down. The movement was barely perceptible, but it was enough.
Ayn took off, launching from the turtle’s back and into the boss arena.