The long, long spiral rush down into the tree was the most strategically stressful stroll Clarke had ever taken. Wormwood was not the kind of person one ever turned their back to or took their eye off of and, as such, Clarke forced himself to blink one eye at a time. Wormwood was no better off, despite his grin. The fight he'd had to kidnap Clarke had been hellish. He was a smart, reactive thinker with quick reflexes but when he'd gotten Clarke hand to hand he'd become a biting, scratching, clawing rat. No wonder, considering his upbringing.

The deep, gradual spiral finally ended and both let out a quiet breath of relief that the other wouldn't want to bring attention to themselves out in the open like this. Stretched out before them the ceiling was much higher, wooden rooms stretching from the floor to the ceiling here with thick panes of glass looking in on wizards taking notes and casting spells.

They walked by wizards standing around fountains, drinking and chatting as though it were any other day. Clarke stopped to see something that didn't exist. Behind the glass in one of the larger rooms was a giant quadruped lizard, dark blue scales like armor, a menacing green glow peering out of its eyes. It was firmly strapped down, criss-crossed by chains and no doubt drugged to the gills if its sleepy appearance was any indication.

“There you are...”

Clarke said. Cages beyond the creature caught his eye, glass housings with no openings, beings on the inside dressed in long robes like any self respecting wizard but the beings inside hammered at the glass with dimwitted stubbornness and casting spells that fizzled inside their barrier.

“I can only imagine how much money we might have made if we'd brought one of those things back with us. Doesn't matter now though but at the time it was unfortunate.”

Wormwood sighed, shrugged at the loss of money.

“Is that what your boss has been after? A way to turn elves into those things?”

Clarke asked. Wormwood shrugged.

“I have no idea. I'm told to go somewhere, I go, I'm told to bring something back, I bring it back. As long as I'm paid I don't care.”

“Master says 'fetch'-”

“And I fetch. Sticks and stones, Clarke. Don't try to hurt my feelings because there's nothing there to hurt. Let's keep going.”

Clarke took a last look at the thing that Alouella had killed in some alternate world only he knew about. The jangle of armor penetrated his thoughts.

“Yeah, quickly.”

Clarke jerked a thumb back the way they'd come. Telowe had already made it down, a group of guards at his heels, Clarke's party at the back. He barked orders, sending them marching ahead, armor rustling as they jogged across the soft wood, likely aiming for the prison entrance if Alouella had truly betrayed him.

“He doesn't waste any-hey!”

Clarke had slipped into the room they'd been observing, the door already closing before Wormwood could slip in behind him.

“Trying to lose me?”

He whispered but Clarke was looking around the room, taking it in. There were wizards observing the beast, some taking note of the former elves casting spells uselessly in their cages. One of the wizards had approached quickly, clapping Wormwood on the arm and sweeping the other towards the abominations.

“Oh, Doctor, you come to take up my invitation to look at the creatures? We could really use your expertise. Such a shame we lost those younger researchers when we brought the monster in but we can make great use of their sacrifice.”

The wizard didn't even acknowledge Clarke, leading Wormwood towards the turned elves. With the entire level becoming quickly locked down and he and Wormwood being hunted, he looked to the room for the answer.

Even if I managed to cause a big enough distraction I don't know where I need to run to after. It has to be really big.

He looked to the giant lizard. Held down physically with chains, likely some unseen magic keeping it down and even after that it was sedated.

Even if I got past all of that it would still put my friends in danger.

What friends?

The nasty little voice in his head whispered.

One of the things eyes blinked lazily and turned to him, pupil tightening to a lazy sliver.

They could handle it though. If Alouella killed it alone weeks ago she shouldn't have any trouble now. And just think of all the damage it could do to every other son of a bitch in this tree.

Clarke did not like the fact that he agreed with the paranoid, homicidal whispers in his mind.

He made his way to Wormwood who was quietly listening to the wizard excitedly explain about the turned elves.

“...a crystalline structure in the skull that focuses magic much more effectively. It's incredible.”

Clarke whispered in his ear.

“Ask how they keep this monster sedated.”

Wormwood glanced back at it, catching the idea very quickly and shaking his head. Clarke nodded back, a tiny war of which way a chin should move.

“Pardon me, we're talking.”

The wizard said, stepping between Wormwood and Clarke.

“Guards just don't know their place, right?”

Clarke stepped back and Wormwood's eyes widened as he watched Clarke take a sheet of notes from a table, tearing a corner off and quickly jotting down a sentence, then a single word on the scrap. He held them up behind the wizard's head.

Suddenly, Wormwood ______

He held up the separate torn bit of paper and Wormwood felt his heart stop for a moment. Clarke nodded at the single word then back at the scientist as the word hovered beside his head.

exploded.

Paper was everywhere and Wormwood had forgotten that fact.

“So how do you keep this monster sedated? Why not do it to the elves?”

He asked. His hand darted out and he snatched the two pieces from Clarke's hands, stuffing them into his pocket. The wizard turned to the monster.

“We tried some sleeping potions at first, concentrated Droop Eye plants at first but they wore off after a little while and the ingredients were too costly to use so much of. We're keeping a constant sleep spell on while we examine him but we let him stay awake when he's in his cage.”

He pointed to a young elf, eyes closed and hands waving soft, massaging circles in the air above the beast.

“We change out the spell caster every hour and there's no problem for such a weak animal mind. As for the elves, they're basically undead at this point, their bodies overtaken by the crystalline structure growing inside them. They're unaffected by sleep spells or potions.”

The door opened, three guards coming in and waving over the wizard who frowned at being interrupted. Wormwood remained facing forward, scratching at his beard.

“One moment.”

The wizard walked away and Clarke whispered to his companion.

“They're almost certainly looking for you. Are you ready?”

“For what? What do you have planned?”

“We'll knock out that spellcaster, let the monster raise hell for us and we run.”

They saw the wizard point at Wormwood, the guards faces tightening menacingly.

“I guess we're out of options. Who is-”

Clarke swung his book out of nowhere, cracked the elf in the chin and snapping his head back enough that his brain rattled. He crumpled straight down. The guards were racing at them, swords drawn and the door open as they called for backup.

“That ought to do it. You undo the chains and rouse the thing.”

Clarke ran to the edges of the room, leading the guards on as they swung at him, swords chipping wooden splinters from the counter, notes flying as they swept after him.

The wizard tore at his hair.

“No, stop it, my work! Look out for the subjects!”

He screamed as Clarke dodged around the furious undead elves, their silent howls and spells blasting inside their glass chambers, the guards wary as they measured the danger.

Wormwood knelt by the creature, his presence ignored in favor of the darting target Clarke made himself out to be as he swore at the guards, taunting them to catch him. He threw books and bottles, strange potions spilling unknown liquids even he didn't know.

Wormwood undid the chains, tossing them aside as he went from one to the other, avoiding the eyesight of the guars as Clarke led them around the room and he froze as the beasts chest rose, its body rattled as the remaining chains began to snap and whip away.

The beast roared, its eyes narrowing as everyone froze in place.

In the blink of an eye it whipped in a tight circle, tail smashing through glass and wood, bodies thrown every which way. Clarke had leapt from the counter over the tail to land, rolling across the ground.

The beast tore out into the hall, roars erupting into the air as wizards called spells into being and flung them, the guards hacked at its scales in desperate swings of swords but were thrown aside. As distractions go, there could be none better than a rampaging monster.

Clarke slipped around the edge of the broken wall and slipped away, eyes darting everywhere to see if his ruse was detected but no eyes were on him. He broke into a run, dashing across the level as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn't know where Wormwood had gotten to but it didn't matter.

Wizards tried to stop him as they stepped out of their labs but he shoved them aside, watching the wall for a stairwell, looking for anything that looked like a path, a ramp, an elevator, an incline, something!

There it was, a large rounded wood platform at the end of the room, set into the tree. It hovered, turning in a slow circle. Guards stood around it, light armor, heavy armor, wizard robes made for combat. An explosion rang through the room far behind him, a muffled boom reaching them and fire rolling up one side of the tree. Sprites flitted from the trees walls and danced around it.

Clarke approached cautiously, his breathing coming out in erratic gasps that he hoped helped his act. One of the soldiers stopped him, steadied him. They didn't move an inch, every one maintaining their position.

“What's going on over there?”

He was calm, collected. Clarke took a deep breath.

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“One of the experiments escaped. The big lizard. They need some help over there, it's tearing through us like paper.”

“Hold that man! Grab him! He's one of the intruders!”

Clarke clenched at the voice, Alouella behind him and leading Gwen and Wade. The guard lunged at him and wrapped his arms around, holding one in the other to crush the air out of him. Clarke kicked and thrashed, his toes kicking at knees but doing nothing through the heavy armor. He stopped, stiffened, slowly relaxed to just stare at the guard.

Alouella approached but Wade jumped ahead of her

“Don't take any chances. He could still be dangerous like this.”

Wade took the coat, the book, laying the coat gently aside and the book by it. Then he frisked him, cupping his clothes tight to his body from top to bottom as the guard held tight as he'd done to drunks and adventurers through years of town guarding. He checked each and every pocket the guard uniform he'd stolen had but came up empty. There was a quiet sigh as he completed his search and Wade whispered just for him to hear what he thought must be some consolation.

“You did your best. I'm sorry.”

There was no bragging or condescension to his words.

“And who are you people?”

The guard asked, eyeing them through his helmet, the other guards with weapons at the ready. There was a dryad here as well, for operation of the lift or not, Clarke wasn't sure. He took note of every person, every weapon, tried to think of a way out.

Alouella nodded at the guard.

“You have a right to be suspicious. My father is Telowe Lawfer and I am not a member of The Roots. We brought him information regarding today's break in and aid in apprehension if he should need it. We will surrender to you until our story can be proven but my father is busy battling the monster that was set free as a diversion with a number of guards.”

Alouella laid her staff on the ground and put her hands up, Wade following suit. Clarke spoke, his voice squeaking through the grip on his ribs.

“Don't forget...Wormwood.”

Alouella nodded.

“There is still one more intruder out there. I'd recommend taking this prisoner up into the castle. Being too close to his target might inspire further action on his part. He's done enough already.”

The guard holding Clarke nodded, having everything laid out before him.

“We'll hold our position here until everything is more or less under control then. Weewon, grab their weaponry. All of you take a seat on the ground.”

A guard moved to collect their weapons, staff, shield, mace. He stopped in front of Gwen gestured for her gloves.

He flew back, face bloody and smashed in.

“Gwen!”

Alouella screamed but she didn't stop, dashing at the guard holding Clarke and her metal fist crumpling the armor as she swung a punch into his kidney. He stumbled from the grip and to his feet.

“This isn't right!”

Gwen yelled, catching a sword in hand and smashing its wielder in the neck with a punch that had him swallowing teeth.

“What you're doing isn't right! You're betraying me? I thought we were on the same side even if we didn't agree-”

Alouella yelled, summoning her staff to her hand.

Gwen decked another guard, all of them converging on her.

“You wouldn't understand! You've always had your family but what about Clarke? What about me? You just don't get it! They aren't going to let him see his mother and he needs to!”

Clarke dove for his coat and book, rolled to his feet and came face to crotch with the dryad. She smiled as she looked down on him and with no other choice he threw a punch into her crotch. It did nothing but hurt his hand, blood springing from the scratches of punching bark.

“Oh yeah, plants...”

He mumbled.

A much more effective fist came from the side, her face cracking and bark flying off her face as she slammed to the ground. Gwen stood over him, defending as sword blows rained down on her gauntlets and jabbed at her belly.

“When you're done resting I could use some help.”

“You're about to have all the help you need!”

Clarke yelled and punched the backs of her knees, crumpling her on top of him and knocking the air out of his lungs again. A blast of yellow lightning charged through the guards, their bodies seizing and smoking until they fell to the ground in unison.

Clarke looked to Alouella, her eyes wide in shock.

“I...I didn't mean to-”

Clarke saw his opportunity as he helped Gwen to her feet, the dryad looking from Gwen and Clarke to Alouella and Wade.

“Hey, this was a great plan, pretending to be allies. You should finish the dryad off with your fire magic, quickly.”

The dryad gasped, fury in her eyes as the dryad's worst enemy was a pyromancer. She turned on Alouella and Wade, thorns springing from the ground around her. Wade screamed after him as he ran to the elevator with Gwen.

“Clarke, you son of a bitch!”

The elevator slowly turned under them, held aloft by some sort of magic. Gwen walked the edge of the device.

“There has to be some sort of path down besides having the dryads activate it. There has to be some sort of backup.”

There was a small gap between the wood and the tree, a deep hole barely glimpsed through it.

“Well, there is but it's magical and it's in my hand.”

Wormwood joined them on the platform, a small wooden card in his hand that glowed a bright green. Gwen brought up her fists when Wade crashed through the center of the group, crushing a dryad beneath his shield.

“Swiped it from Telowe while he was preoccupied.”

“Don't hurt her!”

Alouella yelled.

“Don't have a lot of choice!”

Wade yelled, a burst of the poisonous spores erupting off of the dryad in a white spray of fluff and his shield came up to cover his face. He roared as he rose up, straddling her and struck down with the face of his shield over and over, her skull cracking down against the platform until she was still.

Wade took deep breaths, waving away the tiny spores from his mouth even as they took root in his skin.

“Wade! Don't breathe those in!”

It was shouted from both sides, Alouella and Clarke with the same idea. He covered his mouth and held his breath as he stood, waving the spores away. They landed on his arms and and quickly began to take root, tiny pin pricks that ran up and down his forearms.

He picked them out, wincing each time he tore the fast growing anchors out of his skin.

“I got it.”

The group wavered as the platform began to sink, lowering slowly at first but dropping faster as it went. Wormwood knelt by a small knot of wood on the edge with the card sticking out like a key.

“Found the activation spot.”

He said. The spores settled into the ground and Alouella approached the dryad.

“Is she still alive?”

Alouella asked. Wade bent down, put fingers to her neck and shrugged.

“I have no idea. How do you tell with a vegetable?”

Sprites flitted around from the tree, tiny balls of light that floated over her head wound, like butterflies to flowers and gently huddled.

“I doubt she could get those things to do that if she were dead.”

The groups stared at one another and Alouella brought her staff up, faint traces of magic in the air and tone of voice that did not ask, it commanded.

“I'm giving all of you one last chance to surrender peacefully. No more tricks. None of you are taking the script user.”

Wade took point before her, the shield to her sword. Wormwood flipped a knife out of his belt, twirling it around his hand and lowering his center of gravity.

“I've been wanting to slit your throat ever since Deraforda for that cheap shot. Then I'll take my payday home.”

Clarke bared his teeth, growling deep in his throat. The anger flared up again, venom replacing his blood and nasty whispers in his mind.

“My mother is not a thing! You won't understand, you're trying to take her from me AGAIN!”

Gwen patted his arm and took her place in front of him.

The walls changed from the wood of the tree to dirt, the smell of compact earth surrounding them and the walls lit by crystals set into the walls.

The ball of dirt that landed in the midst of them exploded, dirt blinding them as it sprayed out.

“Alouella, get behind Wade!”

Telowe had landed in their midst, his fall from the top of the elevator broken by the crumbling dirt he'd called up around him like a shield.

Within seconds Clarke felt the jolt of electricity flow through his body, the weight of a dwarf fly into him and they were thrown, falling from a much greater height than he expected, hitting the ground hard, Gwen's body crushing the air out of his body as they'd been thrown from between the gap near the wall and elevator and fallen the rest of the way.

His teeth chattered, jaw almost fused together as his nerves refused to cooperate. He put a hand out and grabbed her, her hand closing on his arm. He brushed the dirt from his eyes, tears washing it out and turning them irritated red.

They'd been thrown from the elevator just as it had reached the end of the ride, fallen down into the entrance room of the prison.

“G-GAWD, that hurts!”

Gwen finally got out, her mouth coming unstuck. Alouella looked down on them, her hand over her mouth in shock that they'd flown over the edge. Gwen waved at her and the elf breathed out in relief that she hadn't killed them.

Wormwood leaped from the edge, hitting the ground and rolling, clutching the elevator key in hand and a broken knife he threw from the other.

It worked...

Clarke thought as the broken hilt bounced over the stones set in the floor.

The entrance to the prison was tall, dirt walls supported with wooden beams, a huge wooden door before them. Wormwood hit it, the key sliding into the only slot and the door slowly opening. He forced his body through the narrow crack and took off running.

Gwen hauled Clarke up and pushed him towards the door.

“Run!”

She shouted, Telowe stepping off the lift, Alouella and Wade behind him.

He looked from them to her and something rose through the anger and hatred. Gwen had done nothing but try to help him this whole time, never asking for anything more than adventure and excitement.

“You can't stop those three yourself!”

She spun, picking him up in one motion, swinging him round and round, the room a blur before tossing him through the open door.

“You let me see my father one last time. I'm not ever gonna forget that.”

She shouted after. He rolled across the floor, sliding up onto his knees. Alouella's words came back to for whatever reason.

You're selfish.

Gwen defended as the group surrounded her and Clarke ran. He pumped his legs as hard as he could, outrunning the tiny whispers, passing guards who broke into sprints as he passed but could not catch up. It was one long hallway, strong wooden doors on either side surrounded by thick glass, beings on the other side that were just blurs of shapes.

There was nothing to save now and he threw his explosives, fire and flame covered by smoke bombs.

There at the far end of the room was a single cell set in the wall, the glass looking in on a sparse room and inside sat a woman at a stone table.

Clarke's heart skipped a beat, pounded in his chest like it would break his ribs.

He passed the last arch and a figure stepped out, a knife came for his throat and Clarke could do nothing.

The metal broke, shattered like glass and shrapnel flew past him. He stumbled and hit the ground, rolling to a stop, his breath burning in his throat.

“What the hell is this!?”

Wormwood yelled, throwing the handle down and pulling a fresh knife.

Clarke stood, his hands clenched tight around the obsidian knife he always carried. Clarke dashed at him, swung, Wormwood dancing out of the way.

“Did you do something to me!?”

Wormwood yelled. Clarke didn't answer. He gripped the knife and ran forward, swinging down in a hard arc. Wormwood tried to block it, his knife shattering as it neared Clarke's arm, Clarke's knife sinking into Wormwood's eye, breaking on bone and snapping.

He fell back, clutching his face, screaming as he dug at the stone in his face, bits of eye hanging out the socket. Clarke kicked him, his boots connecting over and over with ribs and belly.

Clarke reached into wormwood's pocket and pulled the wooden key free, two scraps of paper falling out with them.

Wormwood looked down, his one good eye looking over the paper that had been on the verge of exploding him earlier. On the back, in beautiful handwriting was a short message that glowed in a magic only Clarke could see.

Any weapon this person uses with intent to harm will break.

Clarke approached the door, put his hands on the glass. His feeble pound caused no noise. She sat, facing away, her hands tied behind her, one foot up on her lap.

The door, gotta get her out.

The stampede of feet behind him was thunderous. Gwen was there, leading the pack. She would take steps, punch out a guard, take steps, hit someone else. Her last stand had been smarter than simply standing still and she held the hallway now. She lifted elves as easily as weights and swung them, piled them up under her as stones, throwing herself into the crowd like a single breaker against the ocean. Guards exploded around her as Wade burst through them like a bull, standing over her. Alouella was looking past at Clarke and their eyes met.

I've done terrible things to them.

He couldn't stop now, the door opening as he waved the card over it, his mother before him now just behind the door. He could reach out and touch her now.

Something's wrong.

The room was filling with light, a shockwave of explosive magic gathering in mandalas within mandalas, an never-ending cascade of symbols beginning to form on the floor and ceiling, rising up and out from the room.

The shock of terror filled Clarke and his back straightened with a jolt of cold fear. He did not understand what was coming but it was big, it would swallow the whole building in whatever it was and only he could see it coming.

They're in danger!

Clarke turned. Clarke and his mother could not affect one another and the only other things that had ever avoided change were things he'd stowed in the hole, something not of their world.

He had two magical holes in his pocket and he hoped he was grabbing the right one, the world slowing around him as he threw it, the hole unfolded, hit the ground and slid. Gwen fell backwards, Alouella, Wade dropping down below the portal into the black world inside and the wave rushed by in a coating of glowing darkness itself.

Clarke hit the ground, the pressure pushing him like a weight even as it did nothing. It whipped past his ears in a soundless gale, his ears popped and everything was muffled.

Then sound became real again, the jangle of armor that hit the ground, one after the other and Clarke looked up.

Every guard, every wizard, fell to their knees, hit the ground, their face twisted in shock and fear.

Telowe fell last, clutching his chest as he tried to fight off whatever was happening. His finger shook as it pointed behind Clarke and his eyes rolled back into his skull. His shaking stopped and he fell back on his legs, slumped in a sitting position.

A soft hand fell over his head, rubbed his hair. There had been no one else behind him except...he stood, turning slowly.

“You're a special one, aren't you? How did you live through that?”

Tears gushed from his eyes and the knot in his throat choked him. He stood, shaking as he turned.

“M...mom...I came to save you.”

She had aged, lines and wrinkles tracing a pale face that rarely saw the sun. The same dark hair now cut down close to her scalp, her nails cut to the quick. She was so small now though as Clarke looked down on her. She gasped, shock breaking into a smile, into tears.

“C...Clarke!”

He nodded and swept her up, holding her tight, too tight, crushing her frail body but she hugged him back, her arm tangled in the strap of the book he carried.

“Mom...we don't have time, we have to-”

A sharp sting punched through his back, cold iron warmed by his blood. He was lifted and thrown to the ground, the knife punching through to the front of his chest and the tip cooled by the air in his lung spilling out.

His book hung on his mother's arm now and Wormwood stood over him

Wormwood grabbed his mother and slammed her face against the glass, crushing her skull against it as he pulled a glass ball from his pocket. His eye hung out as a popped mass of white goo and pink nerve, his face a mass of pain and rage.

Clarke flipped over, pain arcing through him, his breaths pulling in nothing as he ran at Wormwood, stumbling over his own feet.

Magic swirled up around him and he smiled at Clarke, a snarl of wolf teeth in Clarke's vision.

The blue light enveloped them, darts of light passing through their bodies until they popped from existence, gone into thin air.

Clarke hit the glass, his screams became more and more muffled by his lack of air as ten years of pain and rage erupted from him. He gasped murderous threats promising tortures and pains no one had ever imagined.

All he could recall from that last moment was a strong blow and numbing, dark unconsciousness.