The female dwarf with a hole in place of her nose and crazy eyes was staring at Oak and licking her lips.

“Right,” Oak said. “Nice flute you got there, Alasie. Do you mind if I feed it to you, sideways?”

The dwarf giggled. “Naughty, naughty. Such vulgar promises. A girl could get excited!”

Oak widened his stance. Alasie leaned forward. They moved at the same time. Oak dodged to the left and vanished between the shelves just as Alasie let out a note from her flute, and a wave of force struck the stone floor where he had been standing. He ran as fast as he could, but he could tell it would not be enough to get away. The stomping of large feet followed in his wake as the gigantic tome charged after him, pages shuffling and cover snapping open and shut in a steady beat.

Right, left, right, left. Oak took turns and juked between shelves, trying to make some distance between him and his enemies so he could come up with a working plan. A shelf behind him cracked and burst apart in a shower of books and paper as Alasie bombarded him with spells.

“Fuck!” Oak screamed. “Leave me alone, you demented bitch.” A smaller book jumped at him from the top of a bookshelf, maw open wide and ready to take a bite out of him. He cut the book in half with a swing of his falchion. “By the Chariot!”

Another spell struck a bookshelf next to him. This time, it came from a different direction and collided with the top of the shelf, causing it to tip over. He cursed and dove forward to get past the falling bookshelf, barely sliding out of harm's way.

Coughing dust out of his lungs, Oak looked back at the destruction wrought by the dwarven mage. The giant tome came running out of the dust cloud and jumped over the fallen bookshelf, tongue flopping in the air as it descended towards him.

There was no time for fancy maneuvers. Oak scrambled away from over a thousand pounds of hardcover, falling at his face, and called on his Boon of Pyromancy. Flames leapt from his fingers and crashed against the tome, setting it alight.

The giant book let out a crackling screech and stumbled against a bookshelf, causing all the books residing in it to run away from the flames, little feet flapping on the stone floor.

Oak pumped his fist in triumph, when suddenly the ceiling flashed and water rained on the tome, putting out the fire. He could only stare in stupefied amazement as the gigantic tome gathered itself and turned back towards him. It looked furious.

“This is some absolute bullshit,” Oak said, and took off as fast as his legs could carry him. The tome screeched in rage and followed.

Running full tilt, he turned another corner. His eyes widened. Alasie was sitting on a bookshelf, her flute aimed straight at him. The spell struck him in the legs and sent him flying backwards down the corridor between the shelves.

“By the dead.” Oak moaned. He had finally rolled to a stop, and he felt like an ox had stomped over him. Twice. He shook his head. It only made his nausea worse, so he stopped doing it and struggled back to his feet.

Alasie was hopping towards him again, ready to sling another spell his way, and the giant tome had just emerged from between the shelves. It was not looking good. Another smaller book chose that moment to jump at Oak’s face, teeth clicking and tiny legs still running as it flew through the air. He watched it fly towards him and got an idea.

Just as the book was about to latch on to Oak’s cheek and start chewing, his hand snapped up and caught the book, pressing it closed. He spun around and threw the book right at Alasie’s surprised face. Apparently, the book was not shy about its chosen dinner, since it grabbed onto the dwarf’s cheek with all of its tiny might, and started chewing.

With a scream that sounded like music to Oak’s ears, Alasie fell from the top of the bookshelf she had been running on and crashed beyond his sight. Elated as he was, Oak had no time for celebration. The giant tome was charging at him like an angry bull, thick chicken legs bringing it forward with deceptive speed.

This time, Oak ran to meet his enemy. The excitement of battle was in him now, and blood was rushing in his ears. That did not mean he had gotten careless. Seeing through sound was extremely helpful in such a chaotic environment and in his mind’s eye, he could see another small book coming at him from the side.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Without even slowing down, he bisected the thing, and kept on running.

The giant tome leaped towards Oak, tongue reaching out to meet him. It was a mistake. As the monstrous book flew through the air, it could no longer change its trajectory. Oak cast a burst of flames in its open maw and dropped into a slide, passing under the book. With a single swing of his falchion, he cut off one of the tome’s chicken legs.

The monster crashed down and immediately lost its balance. It fell over like a drunken sailor after a long bar crawl. Oak was on the thing in a flash, hacking at the book’s cover with all of his considerable strength.

All was well until a sledgehammer of telekinetic force struck Oak in the ribs and he was flung aside like a bag of grain. He crashed right into a bookshelf with such force the entire thing fell over in a mighty racket, sending books flying every which way.

Alasie walked through the resulting dust cloud. She was chewing on something and emitting disgusting crunching sounds. Oak looked at her mouth and quickly snapped his gaze to the dwarf’s hands.

“Are you eating your own finger?” Oak asked. He stared at the dwarf in utter bafflement.

Alasie shrugged. “Waste not, want not,” she said, and kept on chewing. “That book you threw at me was a true fighter.”

“So it seems.” Oak winced. He was quite sure his ribs would have felt better if someone had actually been striking them with a sledgehammer.

Alasie brought the flute to her lips. “Any last words before I start hammering your skull through the stone floor?”

Now would be a fantastic time for a bit of an intervention. Ur-Namma? Geezer? Where are those lazy fucks?

“Is that the only spell you know?” Oak asked. “It’s just, well, I haven’t seen you cast anything else, and it would be great to have some variety?”

“Of course it’s not the only spell I know! My dad taught me plenty of spells between the whippings.” Alasie huffed. She leaned forward, eyes wide and glinting with insanity. “It’s just my favorite.”

“Yes, yes. I’m sure it is a perfectly good spell. Nothing wrong with an old reliable.” Oak said. “But it does not really have any panache, does it?”

“What is panache?” Alasie asked, brows furrowed in suspicion.

“Style, flair! It could use some bells and whistles, don’t you think?” Oak asked. “I mean, there is not a lot of color in it. No flames or lightning. I am just saying that I think you could do better.”

“Yes, I could. I could do better!” Alasie shouted, voice shaking with excitement. “What if I–?”

Oak smiled. Finally.

Ur-Namma stepped into view behind Alasie and stabbed the dwarf through the heart.

Alasie’s mouth opened in shock, and she stumbled forward and to the side, staring at the length of steel piercing her chest. The flute tumbled from her fingers and dropped to the floor with a clang. She tried to reach behind herself, searching for the handle of the blade, before she collapsed to the ground and lay still.

In the same breath, Geezer had ambushed the giant tome, and the hellhound was ripping the struggling monster's tongue off. The slimy muscle came apart with a resounding snap. Geezer did not waste any time and tried to drag the monster around by its remaining leg, biting and chewing all the while.

Oak stood up and walked over to Geezer and the bookmonster. He might have missed out on the dwarf’s soul, but this one he would claim for his engine. He brought the falchion high and started chopping. By the fifth strike, he severed the book’s thick spine and the monster’s twitching seized.

A notification flashed in Oak’s vision.

+ 3 Souls

+ 1 Fuel

Silence filled the library. Oak stumbled back and leaned against a shelf. Everything hurt and the wound on his shoulder was bleeding again.

“Now, I don’t want to sound ungrateful Ur-Namma. But what the hell took you so long?” Oak asked.

Ur-Namma blushed a little. “I tripped,” the elf muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“I tripped,” Ur-Namma said. “It took a while for me to get back on my feet. You should be grateful I managed it at all, considering you were getting your ass beat like a drum.”

“Hey, you take that back!” Oak said, feigning outrage, but he could not hide his grin.

It was good to be alive.