Meloai disarmed the spike trap with a single thrust of her clockwork arm. Normal human flesh would have been shredded to bits by the saferoom's defenses, but Meloai was a mimic that had learned to be human—she was made of tougher stuff. Of the two of us, she was certainly the more qualified in our little ragtag adventuring party.

"And you said there're rations in this cave?" I asked. I'd been wandering around this damn dungeon for nearly two days without food or water now, and it was hard to think about something that wasn't where I'd get my next drink of water. The only liquid down here was the strangely omnipresent oil that covered the walls and floor, and even though I'd considered trying it in desperation, Meloai had warned me that it wasn't safe for human consumption.

"Oh, yeah. Rations for days. All kinds of stuff, too. Gold bars, statues, paintings—"

I spluttered. "Gold bars?"

Meloai gave me a frown. "Yeah. So what? I've been stuck in this dungeon since the day I was born, and I'll be here until I die. There isn't exactly any use for human currency down here."

...Right. Meloai was a person like any other, but her experiences weren't the same as mine. Still, I had hopes of getting out of this damn dungeon some day, and doing so with a backpack full of loot sounded good. Or maybe just a small sock full of loot; presumably, gold was as heavy as any other metal, and even though I had a Redlander's stocky frame, I wouldn't be able to lug a whole backpack of the stuff around. "Fair enough," I said.

I winced as Meloai forcibly reset the spike trap with a squeal of metal—those arms of hers were terrifyingly strong when she wanted them to be. She beckoned me through a hole in the wall that looked... more recent than the rest of the dungeon, and I ducked inside. A sturdy door made of wood—real wood, not whatever bizarre material most of the dungeon's fake doors were made of—blocked my path.

"Alright. Home sweet home. Should be more than enough rations for two, at least for now," she said.

I blinked. "For two? Meloai, you don't eat."

She winked. "I don't, but my sister does."

And then she opened the door.

The cave was definitely artificial, made of solid bricks inlaid with currents of invisible power that somehow reminded me of a living soul. And yes, crates of gold bullion were stacked to the left, and yes, a massive marble statue of some naked woman that looked very expensive was on the right, and yes, there was a gloriously tall wall stocked to the brim with dried rations and clean water.

But what took me aback the most was the living, human girl in the center of the room. Not a mimic—I could see her soul—but another, biological human being. Incongruously, she was somehow garbed in opulent, sparkling-clean purple robes.

"What..." I stared around the cave as Meloai grinned. "What... is this place?"

"Dunno!" Meloai cheerfully chirped. "But this is Tanryn, and this is my treasure room!"

"My father's treasure room," Tanryn snapped. "And my title is Lady Tanryn, thank you very much."

"Oh, you." Meloai waved a hand at Tanryn, and she sighed, rubbing her forehead. Huh. Huh. I looked back and forth between the mimic who had learned to be human and the human who lived amongst mimics. I had wondered how Meloai had taught herself human behaviors; I guess it made sense that she'd simply had a living companion to talk to over all these years. "Anyway, I hope you don't mind if I break out some of the rations? We've got a guest for the first time in... uh, two decades, so... feels like a reasonable occasion."

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"My father appointed me here to safeguard the treasures of House Tanryn, and I will not allow some commoner to—"

"Wait, did you say House Tanryn?" I asked.

Lady Tanryn turned to me, one eyebrow upraised. "I did indeed invoke our noble name. Presumably, you've heard of us?"

"Yeah, you're the house whose head got executed for tax evasion twenty years back," I said. There was probably a more diplomatic way to phrase that, but I was starving and dying of thirst and this 'Lady' Tanryn was trying to prevent me from getting to her ceiling-high mountain of food. I was in no mood to be polite. "No wonder they couldn't find his riches—he had them squirreled away in some cave in another damn dimension."

The last living Tanryn spluttered with indignation. "Why, you—how dare you slander House Tanryn with these lies! Meloai!"

"Hm?"

"Execute him!"

"No, he's cool. Here, have a snack." Meloai walked past Tanryn; the lady tried to stop her, but pitting her muscles against the clockwork of the mimic was like shoving against an oncoming avalanche. Meloai handed me a water flask and a container of jerky, which I greedily tore into.

"Those are the treasures of House Tanryn! Put that back right now!"

I swallowed and said, "Dude. House Tanryn's been dead for longer than I've been alive, and I've been wandering around down here for days without food or water. It is impossible to overstate how little I care about your demands right now."

"But—I—but—" Tanryn's rage swelled up to a crescendo, and I prepared myself for the inevitable eruption.

What I didn't expect was for her to deflate.

"He said he wouldn't leave me here," she finally whispered.

Meloai winced, and to be honest, I wouldn't have cared less about what Tanryn's sob story was, but... Meloai clearly cared about the girl, for all her bluster and anger. So I swallowed my jerky and said, "Well, he clearly did."

Lady Tanryn shot me a glare. "Thank you, peasant. I can see that. I just... can't see... why."

I tilted my head. "Wait. Did he... did he not tell you?"

Lady Tanryn frowned. "Tell me what? You can't possibly expect me to believe that a commoner would be able to glean the inner workings of a noble's mind."

"I can in this case, because I took a history class on the damn thing. The Silent Crusade was twenty years back, and the tax on the nobles was... sending a firstborn child to war." From the expression on Lady Tanryn's face, I could tell that this was news to her. Great. I was no good at comforting people who were abrasive assholes, but as one of those abrasive assholes myself, I figured I'd give it a shot. I sat down next to her and said, "Your father didn't send you here to get rid of you. He kept you here, with all his greatest treasures, to keep you safe."

Lady Tanryn closed her eyes.

Then she opened them, expression set in stone.

"Then I gather that I am the last living heir to House Tanryn?"

"That I know of," I cautiously said.

"Then as the lady of this house, I have done you a grave disservice in my hospitality." She stood aside from the shelf of food and water. "Though I will preserve the treasures of House Tanryn, as I have been commanded to by my father, you are welcome to resupply yourself on your journey, adventurer."

I gave her a surprised look, but didn't look the gift horse in the mouth, popping open a second water flask and slowly rehydrating my parched body. Tanryn and Meloai traded glances before breaking off into conversation, and I sat down, waiting for my body to recover from the stress of the past few days.

Then I chuckled to myself, looking around the room. Tanryn and Meloai turned to me.

"What is it now, commoner?" Tanryn asked.

I snorted. "Nothing. Nothing. Just..." I gestured around the room, at the bullion and the statues, and how small they were in comparison to the massive, redundant tower of supplies, all to feed Tanryn in her long isolation. "Seems like your father was true to tradition when designing his little hoard."

Tanryn raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. The real treasure was the friends we made along the way."

Tanryn's exasperated sigh and Meloai's giggling laughter filled the room, and for the first time since Odin had tricked me into the plane of falsehood, I felt like I was almost at home.