Of the unexplored doors the door to my left was closest, but the door straight ahead was – by definition – straight ahead of me.

Locked.

Locked or so firmly stuck it made no difference. I didn’t bother checking the other door. This one was only made of wood and iron.

It twisted instead of breaking. A long tortured death which ended with me ripping the entire frame from the wall.

I’d revealed a small chamber. Broken glass was scattered across the floor. A crude drawing of a grey humanoid was sketched on the east wall. Next to it was a bookshelf set in a sunken alcove. The bookshelf contained no books, so I guess technically it was just a shelf.

I moved to inspect the drawing. Something about the figure depicted was familiar. Their weapon perhaps? No, it was their head. A pig’s head, with tusks whi-

“What a terrific noise Sir! Sir has woken half the dungeon!”

My head nearly hit the ceiling.

I spun as I landed, magic swords at the ready, eyes and will-o’-wisps casting about. My mind caught up with my racing heart. Master Tom. I spotted him a moment later. I relaxed my stance, lowered my invisible swords. Tom watched them withdraw with polite interest. I’d have to keep that in mind.

He was right about the noise. I suppose I’d grown used to it, too focused on other things, but the howling and wailing had risen to a roar. Mad cackling laughter bounced up from unfathomed depths, hacking, barking coughs set the dust falling from the ceiling, a moan so powerful I could feel the reverberations in my chest with my hand (I checked) fluctuated between pain, ecstasy, and despair.

If I’d tuned out all of that I’d been down here too long.

Master Tom grinned up at me, “Sir was lucky Master Tom was the first to arrive. The others know Master Tom, Sir, they won’t bother Sir while Old Tom is here, no indeed.”

It would be best to polite, as always.

“And you, Master? Will you be bothering me?”

Tom’s grin grew wider, “No bother Sir, no bother at all. Old Tom Oldshoe has come to collect a favour, Sir!”

My heart dropped into my stomach even as my stomach leapt into my chest, leaving me feeling like my world was spinning. (Again, not literally. Had to be clear when dark magic was involved.)

The hob nodded as if I had replied. He doffed his hat and clutched it in both his hands against his chest. “Yes indeed, Sir. Poor old Tom has been met with misfortune, Sir, and poor old Tom comes cap in hand begging for Sir’s aid.”

He looked so miserable I nearly felt sorry for him. Not just nearly, I should have felt sorry; Tom had always dealt fairly with me, never gone so far as to completely trick me as was common for the crueller hobs and dobbys. So why didn’t I?

I could pursue that logic, drive away the feeling of mistrust, but I didn’t. I’d learned to trust my feelings, no matter how irrational they might be. That didn’t mean I listened to them, not always, or even often, but they happened for a reason. They had their place.

“What do you need Master?”

He dug his hand behind the chest component of his crimson motley and withdrew a large purple seed. He held it up for my inspection. It was the size of my closed fist, and glowed slightly in the dark, though fainter even than my will-o’-wisps.

“Master Tom is needing this planted Sir, planted right away. But Master Tom cannot do it, Sir, oh no, he cannot. Do not ask poor old Tom Oldshoe why, Sir, Master Tom doesn’t know, but plant it he cannot.”

I didn’t take the seed.

“Where do you need it planted, Master Tom?”

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“In thoughts, Sir, in dreams!”

A new sound joined the clamour, distant, but growing closer; the baying of hounds.

“There they are Sir! One of Master Tom’s many misfortunes! Sir must take the seed at once!”

He took a step towards me and thrust it at my midriff.

I didn’t take the seed.

“Is it dangerous, Master Tom?”

Tom looked affronted by the mere suggestion, “Oh no Sir, not dangerous at all! As dangerous as a cup or a spoon or a drop of water! Old Tom wouldn’t give Sir a dangerous seed without a proper warning, Sir.”

The hounds let out another cry, this one much closer.

I didn’t take the seed.

“And the hounds, Master? Are they dangerous?”

Tom bobbed his head rapidly, “Very much so Sir, very much. But Sir need not fear, they chase Master Tom, not his little seed.”

“That’s a large seed, Master.”

The hob smiled apologetically, “Large it is Sir! Master Tom did not mean to deceive Sir. No Sir, not at all! It is still a very small thing compared to the greater world of things which are large.”

The earth rumbled. The room began to shake. Dust fell from the ceiling as stone ground against stone.

“Another misfortune, Sir! What terrible luck! Sir must take the seed quickly!”

I didn’t take the seed.

“What will it do, Master, if I plant it in my dreams? Will it affect my mind?”

There was a cracking sound from my pouch. The dobby winced.

“I am sorry Sir, Master Tom did not want to do this Sir, but he does have some control over his misfortune. He won’t let it touch him, Sir! He won’t!”

“And you won’t leave my presence until I agree to plant your seed?” I didn’t bother with the honorific. Tom barely seemed to notice.

He wrung his hat between his hands, “Old Tom apologizes, Sir, but he doesn’t know where else to go. Master Tom was at a loss and a lack until he heard Sir opening yonder door.”

He gestured to the mangled mess on the floor.

A bubbling sound rose from my waist. My waterskins shook with it, independent from the earthquake which still rocked the room. Burbling bursts of gas puffed free from their mouths.

“What happens when I plant the seed, Tom?”

The dobby shrunk further on himself, “Old Tom doesn’t know, Sir. Not for sure. But Sir need not fear for Sir’s mind, Sir! Not like with the warlocks and mushrooms. The seed is the seed always Sir. It occupies, Sir, it doesn’t change.”

“Two favours Tom?”

Flakes rained down about me. I looked down at my belt in time to see rust blossoming like ink in a glass all across the surface of my sword.

Tom shook his head, “One favour for a favour Sir. A favour cannot be two favours.”

The hounds sounded as if they were nearly upon us now. Some of the ceiling stones were making sounds like they’d nearly worked themselves free. And all that was excluding whatever misfortune would befall Tom’s general vicinity next. Maybe my heart would stop. I couldn’t let Tom fall into danger either. Not while I still owed the elf favours. Whatever it was he’d taken from me, it was something I’d want back, or something I’d need.

“Very well, Master. I’ll plant your seed to repay a favour, provided you leave and take your misfortunes with you.”

The hob’s face lit up, “Oh thank you Sir! Thank you!” He pressed the seed into my hand, “Master Tom will never forget Sir’s kindness! Old Master Tom Oldshoe never does!”

There was a terrific crack of thunder, and the hob was gone.

The howling of hounds stopped immediately. The quaking followed a moment later. Even the distant weeping and wailing had stilled. Down to a murmur now.

I looked at the giant seed clutched in my hand. It felt springy. Strong. Like rubber or a copper spring. It was surprising light as well. Perhaps slightly heavier than a piece of pine the same size.

It wouldn’t fit in my pouch, but if I tied the flap shut over it, it would at least be held in place. I placed the seed on the ground and opened my pouch. I was greeted by shards of glass. My magnifying glass had broken in the whirlwind of... whatever that had been.

I removed my glove to carefully extract the pieces of the magnifying glass and added them to the broken glass already on the floor. The frame joined them. Perhaps someone would have a use for it, or a fix they could perform, but I needed the space more than the possibility.

I picked up the seed, put it in, pulled the flap over, and secured it. I gave it a few experimental shakes and nothing seemed to move around. It would do.

I dusted off my shoulder and brushed my hair. The dust had gotten everywhere. Now that I wasn’t focused on something else, it was actually rather hard to breathe. The back of my throat tickled and my nose was starting to run. I returned back to the checker-board room once more.

There was still one more door to try.

*Thwip* *Thwip*

Two darts stood out of my chest.

Worse, I’d felt these ones.