You hear shuffling behind you as you sprint. You feel more warmth upon you. Twin eruptions of flamestone alert you to Lyssa firing her own pistols, and you suspect they are of little use against the monster’s scales. You sprint faster, but your speed, it is not enough. You will be caught.

  “Wait, here!” Liam shouts, and you feel his hand latch onto your coat and tug hard enough to spin you about. You see the frightened Liam, and behind him, the looming circle of teeth and scales. You haven’t reloaded your pistol, and despite the pathetic difference in size, you reach for your sword.

  It will stop nothing. The teeth close in. You hear the rumble of grinding rock and groaning innards.

  “I said here,” Liam shouts again, and slams right into you. You tumble aside, bracing for impact against the wall…only there is no impact. Suddenly you’re falling. You have but a half-second to flail before you strike the ground. Your head and back hit stone, and your entire vision blooms red and yellow from the sudden pain.

  From up above, you hear Liam shouting.

  “Move!”

  You can’t see, and you don’t know where you are, but the urgency in the man’s voice is motivation enough. You roll to your left, still expecting a wall of some sort, but instead only hard, uneven ground awaits you. You stop when Liam lands, his lantern wobbling in his hand. In its light, you see Ansell leaning against the nearby stone wall, looking bruised and out of sorts.

  Above you, you hear a loud slam, followed by the strange screech of the monster.

  “Where are we?” you ask.

  Liam brushes himself off and lifts his lantern. You appear to have fallen down a small shaft of some sort. Ropes hang from a pulley higher up, and nearby lay large buckets latched to the ropes. As painful as it was to land on solid stone, you count yourself lucky to have missed the buckets.

  “We don’t carve the tunnels, only follow where they lead,” Liam explains, still staring upward. “Sometimes getting back and forth from the later sections can take ten, twenty minutes, even if the tunnels are close, or in this case, stacked on top of each other. So we built some shafts and pulleys to funnel supplies.”

  You join him in looking up. It’s much too small for the monster to fit through. A bitter relief. By the sound of it, you’re now even deeper within the mine, and now ignorant to the fate of your group.

  Please, keep Lyssa safe, you pray to Lyra, hoping she can hear you.

  “I appear to be bleeding,” Ansell says beside you. You pick up the soulless’s dropped lantern and hand it back to him. In its light, you can see he’s added another cut from the fall, this time along his forearm. Blood drips across his mouth from his bloody, swollen nose. You suspect you don’t look much better, and when you brush the back of your head, you feel the warm stickiness of fresh blood.

  “You’ll live,” you tell him.

  “I was not questioning that fact,” Ansell replies. “Should I?”

  You turn away from the opening at the top of the shaft. “Right now? Probably.”

  Liam pulls you close, and he lets out a soft hiss.

  “We don’t know how well that thing hears,” he says, his voice a whisper.

  Instead of arguing, you nod. A wise enough idea.

  “Do you know the way out?” you whisper back instead.

  Liam bites his lower lip, then slowly exhales.

  “Yeah,” he says. “But its a long trek out. We do it slowly, and we do it quietly. What say you?”

  You draw your sword, determined to fight to the death even if you’re caught.

  “I say lead the way.”

  27

  You’re almost tempted to take your boots off, it’s so difficult to walk in perfect silence upon the hard stone. Urging Ansell to walk quietly accomplishes nothing, either. He was trained to be a guard. He doesn’t know how to be stealthy.

  “How much farther?” you whisper.

  Liam pauses at another junction. There’s blood across the walls, and you see discarded tools in both directions. A grim discovery. You suspect this was where the miners were first attacked when the monster appeared.

  There’s no bones. No bodies. It takes little imagination to guess why.

  “Not far,” Liam whispers back. He’s trying hard not to look at the blood. “Not…not far.”

  You feel the vibrations long before you see the creature. Liam freezes, uncertain, but you know you cannot afford such a luxury. You drop to your knees, your hands on the ground, and listen. One shot at this. One hope.

  To your left. The vibrations, the noise, the approach; it’s from the tunnel to your left.

  “Coming that way,” you say, jumping back to your feet.

  “Then we hide there,” Liam says, pointing to a space not far from the intersection. It’s another of the little alcoves with chairs and tables for the workers to rest. The three of you rush to it, and though you fear the noise, you quickly, and gently as possible, overturn the table so the three of you can hide behind it.

  “The lanterns,” Liam says, and you know you should douse them, but you also want to know the direction the creature travels.

  Trying not to panic, you hurdle over the table, set your lantern down near the intersection, and then flee back.

  You are just to the other side of the table when the creature arrives. It slowly crawls along the tunnel. The fit is a snug one, and leaves you with little doubt that these tunnels were dug by the monster long before humanity arrived to excavate the flamestone.

  You watch, morbidly fascinated by its movements. So far as you can tell, it has no appendages, instead propelling itself with twisting undulations akin to a worm. A very, very big worm.

  And then the tail end of it opens up, disturbingly similar to a sphincter. Your stomach tightens as black goo blasts out of it, splattering across the walls and floor of the tunnel. You can smell it even from here, the odor a strange mixture of sulfur and feces. You turn away from it to catch your breath.

  “Lovely,” you mutter. The monster has moved on ahead, down one of the tunnels, leaving only the black goo in its wake. When you turn back to it, you notice the goo is not smooth, but filled with little bumps or pellets. The similarity is undeniable, and it drops your mouth open.

  ”The flamestone,” you say. “The coating. It’s…it’s this thing’s excrement.”

  Liam looks ill.

  “Our work,” he says. “Our whole town’s purpose, it’s digging up that thing’s shit?”

  You glance down at the pouch of flamestone carefully tied to your buckle and realize you’ll never be able to view it the same again.

  “Self-defense,” you say. “Nature’s full of weird things like that, right? Lizards that shoot blood from their eyes, snakes spitting venom, and birds attacking other birds with vomit.”

  You look once more at the black pool blocking the floor. The coating the miners would normally chip through is currently a liquid, and you wonder how long until it hardens. Days? Years? Centuries?

  “This thing lived here once,” you say. “Right here, in these tunnels, before everything changed. Before the monsters and creatures were banished, it lived here, and then we came and found what remained.”

  “It’s shit,” Liam says, still refusing to let that go.

  “It’s hardened, dangerous shit,” you say, torn between laughing and crying. “And now that shit pool is blocking our way to safety.”

  Liam clenches and unclenches his fists, and then sighs.

  “I’m going to go take a look.”

  He slowly approaches the freshly applied excrement and then kneels before the nearest portion. After a moment, he touches one of the flamestone pellets with his fingers and gives it a squeeze. That done, he steps back and wipes his hand on his trousers.

  “Well?” you ask.

  “The pellets are still hard,” he says. “But they’re not protected by the coating like they would be when we normally excavate it.”

  “Can we walk on it?” you ask, getting to the important part.

  “Safely?” he says, shaking his head. “No. A good stomp with a heel will crack one. But if you walk carefully, and keep your weight on your toes, I think we’ll be fine.”

  You gesture toward Ansell.

  “You hear all that?” you ask.

  “I heard,” he says, and stares at you blankly. You hold back a sigh. Right. Soulless.

  “That means stay light on your feet,” you repeat. “Put as little weight on the flamestones as possible, got that?”

  “I understand. Make little noise, remain light on my feet, and attack whatever seeks to eat me.”

  Good enough, you think.

  “All right, Liam, get us out of here,” you whisper.

  During your Soulkeeper training, you spent many weeks learning the ins and outs of your pistol, how its mechanics work, and how to properly clean it. On your very first day, you were harshly instructed on taking proper care of your flamestone, not to drop them, treat them carelessly, or try anything monumentally stupid such as hitting one with a hammer.

  You never asked if it was safe to step on one. You wish you had as you slowly walk across the black, goopy floor. You feel them like pebbles underneath your feet. Solid, so far, but one crack, one eruption, and there’s a chance you end up missing some toes.

  Liam looks no more comfortable ahead of you, but he keeps his mouth shut and leads you through the winding maze of caverns. Several times you pass turns that, given the gentle slope of the stone, you’d think led to the surface, but Liam keeps on going. You have no choice but to trust his judgment.

  After about ten minutes he approaches another junction. In one direction is an unlit cavern. After a glance inside, he freezes in place. Before you can ask what is wrong, he steps away and presses his back to the nearby stone.

  “I think,” he whispers, “we found its lair.”

  Perhaps it’s bravery, perhaps it’s foolishness, but you must see for yourself.

  The cavern is clearly unnatural, its walls worked and carved. The walls are about twice your height, and at one point were covered with flamestone before the miners excavated it. Scaffolds remain built along various sections of the cavern’s sides, allowing access to the higher portions of the wall. Lying still beside one such platform is the enormous worm creature. It is still, its sides softly rising and falling from unheard inhalations. If you were to guess, the thing is currently sleeping off its most recent meal.

  You pull back and use your coat to block the light of your lantern from reaching inside the cavern. Ansell stands there, patiently waiting, while Liam fidgets and constantly glances over your shoulder.

  “We always wondered what formed this cavern,” Liam says. “I guess now we know. What do we do?”

  You brave another look inside. The miners of Roros had clearly removed most of the flamestone, but you see numerous freshly spread pools coating most of the floor. Seeing one of the scaffolds, you get an idea. It’s an awful idea, but it’s an idea.

  “I’m going to climb up there,” you say, pointing to the scaffold. “And then I’m going to kill the damn thing.”

  Liam pales. “Are you certain?”

  “No, but I also lack any better ideas.”

  “We could just leave.”

  You frown. Perhaps, but your mission was to restore the flow of flamestone to Londheim. Until the monster is dead, that won’t happen. And even from a selfish perspective, you can’t be certain it won’t awaken as you finish your trek back to the surface. Should it stir, and sense the vibrations of your movements, or perhaps hear the noises of your passage, well…you doubt there will be a convenient shaft to dive through a second time.

  “I have my duty,” you say as you load your pistol.

  After one last prayer to the Sisters, you enter the cavern. It isn’t far to your chosen scaffold, but it feels like a thousand miles as you slowly tiptoe across the recently layered excrement. The coating sticks to your boots, and it feels like it’s trying to tug them off your feet. You grit your teeth and press on.

  At the scaffolding’s ladder, you pause and look to the sleeping monster. At least, you think it’s sleeping. You wouldn’t consider yourself an expert on worms, let alone magical ones recently revived after the arrival of the black water. You put your hands on the ladder, hold your breath, and climb the first rung.

  The wood groans from your weight. You freeze as the worm shudders a moment, then remains still.

  Just sleep, you think. For the love of Anwyn, just sleep.

  You climb the rest of the way, flinching at every creak and groan of the boards. Once up top, you slowly shuffle your way to the ledge. Below you sleeps the monster, curled into itself almost like a kitten. You set your lantern down so its light remains cast across the thing’s body. That done, you holster your pistol despite it currently being loaded (your instructor would certainly have words over that decision), and draw your sword to hold in both hands.

  It’s just a bug, an enormous, over-sized bug. There can be no pity or mercy for such a thing. Not when the lives of your friends are at risk.

  I’m sorry, you think, and leap on top of the thing. You expected it to be firm beneath you when you land, and are surprised by the give, an almost soft feeling beneath your feet despite the scales. The creature rumbles slowly, unaware of the danger it is in.

  No waiting. No delay. You can only pray that, if it possesses a brain, it’s in the same place as any other creature. With a single smooth motion you slide the sword underneath the scales of the portion just above the teeth and then jam it in deep. The flesh gives, and the sword sinks in all the way to the hilt. Blood and gore flow across your gloves.

  The creature shrieks. It is loud, it is horrid, and it is clearly in pain.

  What it is not, however, is dead.

  Its body pulsates beneath you, and it spins once, catapulting you over its side and to the ground. Your shoulder absorbs the bulk of your weight, and you cry out at the sharp pain. The motion slams it against the scaffolding, snapping several of its supports. Your lantern falls, and it breaks upon hitting the ground, the little oil that remained within catching fire.

  The creature turns toward you. In the burning light, it is truly a monster of shadow and teeth, exactly as described. Another shake, and your sword dislodges from its head, strikes one of the cavern walls, and lands beyond the light of your broken lantern.

  You lift your pistol and aim at its open mouth. You may die, but by the Sisters, you’re going down fighting.

  “Hey hey hey!” Liam screams to get both yours and the creature’s attention. “Robin, take the shot!”

  And then he throws over two dozen thick, goopy flamestones straight at the monster’s gaping mouth.

  You shift the aim of your pistol, track the densest portion of the group, and then fire.

  The blast of your shot has but a half-second to echo before the thunderous response. Your aim is true, and the first of the flamestones erupts, breaking the others and causing a chain reaction. The monster shrieks as the impact tears teeth free from its flesh. Fire washes across the interior of its mouth. It twists and flails, and though you try to dodge, you are much too slow. It batters you aside, and you roll across the stone, adding more bruises to your growing collection.

  You lift your empty pistol as you stand. There’s no time to reload, and you lack your sword. Defenseless, you stare into the gaping maw of the furious, wounded monster of Roros’s mountain. It’s bleeding heavily, perhaps fatally, but that won’t matter. It senses you, smells you, hears you, however it tracks these things, and it will defend its lair to its final moments.

  You brace your legs to dodge despite knowing it hopeless. The monster rears up. The remainder of its teeth quiver as its mouth opens.

  Since he is no longer carrying his lantern, you have no way to see Ansell until he is directly beneath the creature. Cast in the light of your discarded lantern, he is but a shadow with a sword. Mimicking your own attack, he slides it against the grain of the scales, into what would best be called the worm’s ‘throat’. It shudders as the sword sinks in deep, so deep Ansell’s arms vanish into the scales.

  One last screech, and it topples aside with a heavy thud and thankfully, blessedly, lays still.

  “I used your sword since I lacked a proper weapon,” Ansell says. He rips the sword out, black blood splashing across his hands and trousers. Now freed, he flips it and offers you the handle. “You may have it back now.”

  You grab the slick hilt, torn between laughter and offering gratitude to the soulless who would care not a lick about it.

  “Thanks,” you say, deciding to at least make the effort.

  Ansell looks back to the creature’s corpse. “I fulfilled my request. It cannot eat me. What now?”

  “What now?” Liam says. “Now we get ourselves to fresh air and share the good news! The damn thing is dead!”

  While you cannot muster Liam’s enthusiasm, you certainly agree with the sentiment.

  “To fresh air,” you say, and honestly, you cannot think of anything you want more than that.

  28

  Lyssa and a trio of soldiers are waiting for you at the entrance, and there is no hiding their relief upon seeing you.

  “I thought for sure you were dead,” Lyssa says, wrapping you in a hug. You gingerly return it, careful not to touch her clothes with your gloves given the mess that is on them.

  “Did you kill the monster?” Henli asks.

  You grin at the guard.

  “That we did,” you say, and you laugh. “That we goddess-damned did.”

  *

  Your next stop is Clifford’s estate. You feel a little bad trudging into his nice and tidy home covered in monster excrement, and after a silent glare from one of the servants, you remove your boots and stash them by the front door. Clifford is quick to greet you upon your arrival.

  “I’ve already heard rumors,” he says, clasping Lyssa’s hands in greeting. “Is it true? Have you slain the beast?”

  “Not a beast, but a worm,” Lyssa says. She nods your way. “And Robin did indeed kill the thing.”