Emily kept her left hand on the wall as she followed the squirrel down the tunnel.

It was damp and slimy and covered in moss and mold. But she kept her fingers prodding along the grooves between the rough stones. Soon the tunnel turned, and what little light had found its way in through the gateway vanished completely. When Emily could no longer see the squirrel before her, she dove into her source, and mumbled, “Light my way.” A divine came into being, floating above her head. Bobbing up and down in time with her steps, it lit the tunnel in a ghostly white. The squirrel stopped when the light appeared. Standing on its hind legs it stared at the light for a moment, looking surprised, if such a thing were possible. Then it turned back and continued down the tunnel, its fluffy tail swishing from side to side as it walked.

From what Emily could tell, the tunnel sloped downwards ever so slightly, and turned left as it wound through the earth. She quickly lost track of how far they had gone, or how many laps around the spiral they had completed. But as they walked the air became heavier; dank and blighted it stuck in her nose like yesterdays cooking left in a warm room. That she might be walking into a trap did pass her mind, but she didn’t worry. She could probably break out if that was the case. And if she couldn’t, well… she’d cross that bridge if it came to it.

As she was pondering her chances of digging herself out of this hole, she almost stepped on the squirrel when it came to a sudden stop. Stumbling over her feet she managed to avoid the little critter by plunging her secondhand-sword into the ground. Something that was not recommended with non-magical blades. “Why’d you stop?” she huffed and pulled the blade out of the ground, its tip hadn’t been sharp to begin with, but now it looked more like a hammer than blade.

The squirrel chirped and adopted a pose reminiscent of one pretending to be scary, with its paws raised and mouth set into a snarl. It held the pose for a moment, then it jumped, suddenly looking scared itself, and scurried back to Emily, hiding behind her leg. Emily—only a little worried at the squirrel’s display—untethered her divine light and let it float further into the room, pushing more magic into it to increase its strength. It didn’t take long before she could see what had strange rodent so riled up.

The tunnel had ended and let them out into a chamber. It might once have been grand, but now it was derelict and forgotten. Cracking stones covered in moss and cobwebs formed dark corners filled with bones and tattered clothing. But it was not the room that drew Emily’s eyes, rather, it was the three dog sized spiders on the far wall that caught her attention. At least three feet wide and two feet tall they were a disgusting sight, with their many shining eyes, dripping fangs, and hairy legs.

Emily fell into a stance when she saw them, her eyes darting as she checked for more. But there were only the three, and there were only two doorways into the chamber; the one she had come through, and the one between the spiders. “I suppose we have to go through them?”

The squirrel chirped what Emily interpreted as an affirmative.

“Right. It’s never easy, is it?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. The spiders had yet to move, and she intended to beat them to it. Rushing forward she covered half the distance to the wall before the spiders moved. Two going off to the side whilst one came straight for her, eight long segmented legs clicking against the floor, it’s many beady eyes shimmering in the light from Emily’s magic, and poison dripping from chattering pincers.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Right before they would have met Emily hurtled to the left in a quick pirouette, avoiding the spider’s pincers. Her sword sang as it sliced through the air and a sudden shriek echoed through the chamber as it cut through three of the spider’s legs. The spider crashed to the ground as Emily came to a halt behind it, and with a quick downwards strike, she sliced the spider’s abdomen almost in two; for even with her strength the swords edge had been two blunt for a clean strike. The spider convulsed as its life fled with the blood pouring through the gaping wound, before dying, and curling up into a ball.

The two remaining spiders had skittered around the chamber and were now close to where Emily had started, and she watched them as she placed her foot against the dead spider and yanked her sword free. They almost seemed confused as to why she was no longer there; or perhaps it was because she wasn’t running in fear. Emily smiled to herself and stepped around corpse. The squirrel had vanished from sight, but she was sure it was still around.

“Are you just going to stand there?” she asked the spiders. They didn’t answer. “Too bad.”

Rushing forward the spiders moved, again one towards her and the other to the side. Ignoring the one going around Emily waited until the spider was close then she leapt, and sailed over the spider, her head bare inches from the ceiling. The spider tried catching her as she went over its head but was to slow. When she landed, she immediately spun and stabbed forward, intending to impale the spider’s abdomen. But she had forgotten what blade she was wielding, and the sword’s blunted tip slid of the spider’s carapace. Swearing she leapt backwards, narrowly dodging the spider’s legs as it turned to face her.

“So much for being fancy,” she muttered, and took another step backwards as the spider advanced, suddenly finding itself with the advantage. But it didn’t last long, another step and Emily slashed across its face. The spider shrieked as searing pain shot through its eyes and thrashed in an attempt to catch Emily, but she had retreated another few feet. She stood casually, waiting for an opening, and when she saw it, she leapt forward, this time striking from above. The spider died quickly; its head bashed in.

But as Emily had been focused on the second spider, the third had slipped her mind. She had no to react as the spider leapt over its dead kin and crashed over her. She fell to the ground with the spider above her, sword falling to the side as she grabbed its pincers before they could close around her. The spider’s legs tapped in an unholy symphony as it tried to break free, but she held the pincers, grimacing as poison dribbled down her gloves. Then she strained, and with a great crack, she snapped the spider’s right pincer straight off, and—holding the spider steady with her left—drove the pincer through its head. The spider bound backwards, throwing its head about as the position dribbled into its brain, and before long, it lay dead on the floor.

With a groan Emily let her head fall to the ground and stared up at the divine light floating by the ceiling. She hadn’t realized how weak she was, but she supposed she never did get to rest up after fighting all the gods. For she couldn’t have been out for long after being thrown through the rift. A chirp made her raise her head, and she found the squirrel standing on its hind legs, its beady eyes looking at her worryingly.

“There you are,” she said, smiling to put it at ease. “Did you hide?”

The squirrel nodded.

“Guess you wouldn’t have been able to do much, huh?” She got up and collected her sword. “Well that’s enough lazing. Let’s continue.”

Emily once again tethered the light above her head, decreasing its strength as she could already feel her source running dry of magic.

I’ll have to conserve my magic until I can find Alex, she thought. For only when they were together could they truly recover. Such were their blessing, and their curse. The squirrel set off through the chamber, towards the door opposite the one they had arrived through. Emily never looked back; never saw the pale blue light emanating from the corpses she left behind.