Beyond the swampy cavern, the tunnels led to another large cavern, this one divided by cloth partitions a bit taller than me. As they weren’t tall enough to block the sight of giants, I suspected that they must have belonged to the other inhabitants, perhaps witches-in-training or other servants of Baba Yaga.
That said, the satyr had technically been serving Baba Yaga, if his words were to be believed, so we couldn’t let our guard down. Until we were out of here or had reason to believe otherwise, we had to assume everyone in here was a threat. That didn’t mean we couldn’t be cordial, of course, but it was a good idea to be careful.
In hindsight, I didn’t need to worry about being careful. What I should have instead worried about was being careful to the point of paranoia, because Officer Terry was on the case. I’m not sure if it was simply an overcompensation for Burin’s ingénue level of trust or something more, but it did worry me.
“Hello?” Burin called out.
There was no answer, so we decided to go in. As we moved for the entrance, Terry spoke up. “Never go in the closest door,” the girl said. “It’s almost always a trap.”
“Not everyone is trying to set traps for us, little girl,” Burin said.
“That’s just what they want you to think.”
“Who?”
“Them.”
I had a feeling this would go on for half an hour if I let it, so I interceded. “It won’t hurt to go in the further entrance, and if it makes Terry feel better, it should be fine. Even if she’s wrong, no harm in it, so no point in this becoming a thing. Right, Gregor?”
“Um, yes. This is probably true,” the fighter agreed.
“Okay then,” Burin said. “But you should really learn to trust people more.”
“That’s how they get you,” Terry said cryptically.
Inside the pavilion, we found a small room – or whatever you’d call it – that looked like it might be someone’s living quarters. So, of course, we immediately began searching through them for anything that would tell us something about the occupant. Also, for anything valuable we could take.
I wonder if it was like this for my parents. Did they just grab everything not nailed down? Was that why Daddy was always helping every charity, as some kind of penance for doing this kind of thing? I mean, the resources could certainly be the difference between success or failure, so it’s not like we couldn’t justify it, but it seemed a little weird just how easily we’d fallen into this kind of mindset.
Terry found a small leather trunk. “I’m not risking getting poked by any more needles,” she said to Burin. “You open it.”
Burin shrugged and smacked the lock with his axe, breaking it open. Inside, we found little more than runes and a number of small bones, likely all fortune telling implements. At the least, the runes were carved into semi-precious stones, which meant they had some value. The bones, on the other hand, appeared to belong to some kind of bird and likely weren’t worth much if anything.
In the next compartment, which was larger than the last, we found a woman sleeping on a pallet. She had long, silken chestnut-colored hair, eyes of umber and smooth olive skin. She appeared to be an inch or two shorter than Gregor. Actually, I knew a girl who looked a fair bit like her back on Earth. She squeals in the most appealing way when you nibble on base of her neck.
I wonder if she’s okay right now.
Burin spoke to the sleeping woman, trying to wake her. Then Bekkin went over, licked her foot and succeeded where Burin had failed. “Oh, my,” the woman said, her voice melodic. “People are here, from the outside! You’ve come to save me!” she flung herself at Gregor, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Please, you must help me defeat the warden, a monster who wears the guise of a human! Only then can I be free!”
She began sobbing. It was obviously fake. I’ve seen that kind of thing before, though Gregor seemed like he thought she might be genuine. Men.
I didn’t end up having to be the one to call her out. “How do we know you’re not a witch? Or maybe even you’re the shapeshifter? Last time we found a damsel in a dungeon, she turned out to be a doppleganger,” Terry said.
“I’m no witch, I assure you,” the woman said. “I’m being held by the witches!”
“Is that so?” Burin asked. “Then what are you trying to suggest to my friend there, via magic?”
“What? I’m not… You mean you seriously won’t help me?”
Terry gave her a look that told her she wasn’t in the mood for any crap. “Hey, what’s your name?”
“Caigreal.”
“That sure sounds like a witch’s name to me.” Terry, I think that might be a bit prejudiced. I didn’t say it, but I thought it.
Burin ignored Terry. “Look, miss, just… what’s your end goal here? Just tell us the truth about what you want, and maybe we don’t have to fight.”
It was easy to see that she didn’t want to tell us the truth of her situation. “Fine. If you aren’t going to help me, then I guess I’ll just leave.”
“Leave your stick,” Terry ordered, hand on her gun.
The woman had been reaching for what looked to be a walking stick as she prepared to leave. “What? Why would you want this?”
“I don’t. I’m going to break it.”
Burin sighed. “Look, are you going to tell us your goal?”
Terry ignored Burin and kept talking. “And your fugly face! Be honest! You’re the warden! Admit it!” I think she’d finally snapped.
The exasperated woman threw up her hands. “I’m not the warden!”
“Then prove it!”
“Fine! Look, come here!” she said, walking out of the tent and towards a tunnel. “If we go down here, I can prove that I’m not the warden.”
“Or you could lead us into your trap! I’m onto your game, WARDEN.”
“I’m just taking you to a teleportation portal!”
“A-HA! How would you know there wasn’t a portal if you aren’t the warden!” Terry’s face had a smug look of victory on it, as though she’d actually hit upon unassailable logic.
“But I can’t activate it!” protested Caigreal.
“That proves you’re the warden!”
“I am not following this logic,” Gregor said.
“The warden can’t leave, or else there would be no one to watch the prisoners. So, of course the WARDEN couldn’t possibly activate the way out. You understand, don’t you Lyriana? Something’s obviously fishy about this woman.”
That, at least, was something she wasn’t entirely wrong about. “You do have a point, but there’s nothing proving she’s the warden.”
Terry gave me a look like I had just murdered her kitten. “Fine, we’ll play along, but lady, we’re going to kill you when you turn out to be the warden.”
I leaned over to Gregor. “Hey, if she’s the warden, wouldn’t that mean she works for Baba Yaga? Wouldn’t that mean she’s not actually our enemy?”
“I know, right?” Gregor whispered back.
Terry got a devious look on her face. “Tell me, Caigreal – if that is even your real name, warden – have you ever been raped by the satyr?” I wanted to stop her, but I just HAD to see where this logic was going.
“What are you on about now?” the frustrated woman asked.
“The satyr rapes all the pretty girls, at least he did until we killed him. So if you’ve never been raped by the satyr, then that proves that you must be the warden!” I must have been going mad, because at least I sort of understood the logical steps it had taken to get there. Still, that was one of the most insane things I’d ever heard.
“Just leave me alone! I’m not dealing with this! I’m staying here!” she wailed. “Why? Why do I even wait and hope?”
“For more captives, I’d bet,” Terry muttered, glaring.
“What was that?” Caigreal screeched.
Burin stepped between them. “In fairness, it is a bit suspicious when you deny being a witch and then immediately try to ensorcell someone.”
“Whatever, just leave me alone.”
“Okay then. But before we go, do you need us to leave you some food or something?”
“No, I’m fine. They feed us.”
Terry’s eyes were wild. “Who feeds you? The warden? And ‘they’? WHY IS THERE MORE THAN ONE?! Keep changing your story like that and I’ll be forced to shoot you dead.”
“She’s a witch! Witches have covens! Of course there’s more than one!”
Gregor grabbed Terry’s shoulder before she could react. “That’s enough. We’re leaving her here.”
“Fine,” Terry said. “But when I’m right, we’ll shoot you. Come on, pig.”
“Okay, you don’t need food. So how about a blanket?” Burin asked.
“Stop enabling her, Burin,” Terry said, waiting by the tunnel.
“Miss, I’m sorry for all of this. But in the future, don’t try to control people with magic. People are generally good, you know?” After that, Burin and I checked the final partition, which was covered with dust and obviously not in use, and stole a bunch of stuff out of the trunk in there.
Then, we, as the good people we are, left the distressed woman – who, to be fair, was almost definitely lying – and headed down one of the tunnels. This one lead to a sight that definitely wouldn’t have been possible without magic – an indoor meadow in a chamber off of the continuing tunnel.
Another maiden was frolicking in the meadow as an ox lazily chewed at the grass. We watched, carefully peeking around the wall of the entrance to the chamber, as the bronze-skinned maiden plucked flowers and daintily wove them into the ox’s hair. The ox, for its part, didn’t seem to mind.
There was a squeal as Bekkin pulled free of Terry’s grasp and ran towards the maiden, his rope leash trailing behind him. The young woman regarded the small pig with amusement, scooping it into her arms when it reached her. She cooed at the pig and scratched under its chin, much to Bekkin’s delight.
Terry walked out, gun in hand but lowered. “You were just back there,” she said, indicating the tunnel behind us. “But now you’re here. Did you teleport ahead of us?”
“Excuse me?” the woman asked, confused.
“And where did you get the ox?” Terry pressed.
“He’s been here a long time,” the woman answered.
“So, how’s your coven coming along?” Terry asked, continuing to try to press the woman into revealing that she was somehow Caigreal, which seemed unlikely to me.
“The coven?” the woman asked, surprised. “Do you bring word of Baba Yaga?”
“You won’t trick me that easy. Okay, how about this? Have you ever been ra-“
Gregor silenced her with a hand on her shoulder. “No, that is not a question one should ask. It was bad enough that you asked it of the last girl.”
Annoyed, Terry stomped her foot. “Bekkin, come!” She made a threatening gesture with her gun. “Drop my pig!” she commanded the woman.
The woman shrugged and did so. She then produced a small bundle from her satchel. “You should calm down, child. Here, have a piece of candy.”
As Terry eyed the woman suspiciously, Burin walked over. “Ooh, chocolate!” he said, taking the offered sweet and popping it in his mouth. He probably should have checked it for enchantments first, but I understand that he was trying to show Terry that she didn’t have to be suspicious of everyone all the time.
“Do you have any idea what is going on?” Gregor whispered to me, indicating Terry. I shrugged in response.
“Alright, no more games,” Terry said. “Where’s the rest of the coven?!”
“That is a question whose answer I would like to learn from you!” the woman said, annoyed.
Terry then launched into a tirade about how the woman had to be the warden because the warden must have come this way for reasons I still don’t understand, but made perfect sense in the girl’s mind. “Um, Terry,” I said. “There were two other tunnels. The warden could have been down either of those.”
“And that just proves that this woman must be the warden! Tell me, what is your fake name this time, warden?”
“That I cannot tell you,” the woman answered.
“A-ha!” the girl crowed. “That just proves that you’re the warden!”
I ignored her and asked the maiden a question of my own. “I’m sorry for our friend, but we’ve run across several hostile giants and demons since we came here. As we understand, they came here in service of some centaur, so I suspect he may eventually be a problem for us. Have you any word of him?”
“Ah, yes, the centaur. I have heard of his presence, though I fear I do not know where he is presently, nor the purpose of his invasion.”
“Okay, then,” Terry said, her tone giving the impression that she was ready to try a new line of questions. “When’s the last time you saw Baba Yaga?”
“It was some time ago,” the woman answered.
“Then why are you here? Did you create this meadow?”
The woman seemed exasperated. “Maybe? I don’t understand the point of the question.”
“Either you’ve encountered the warden, or you are the warden. And I WILL shoot you. With my fire bullets. Because we kill witches.”
“Well, we have killed three witches already,” Burin said after counting them out on his fingers.
“Four,” I corrected. They weren’t there when I toasted that one with Greta, but I think she still counted.
“Right,” Terry said, a satisfied smirk on her face. “So you should probably leave.”
The woman patted Terry on her cheek. “Child, you would not like it if I left this room.” She then produced a key from her satchel, seemingly at random, and gave it to the girl.
“A-ha! Wardens have keys! You have to be the warden!”
“You have several keys,” Burin pointed out to her. “Does that make you a warden, too?”
Defeated, Terry’s shoulders slumped. “I’m the warden of my friends’ hearts,” she grumbled as she took the offered key.
“What?” Burin asked. “That sounds a bit sinister.”
“It is a bit weird, yes,” Gregor agreed.
“Hush, you,” Terry said, slinking out of the chamber to continue down the tunnel, dragging Bekkin behind her.
Moments later, Gregor rushed after her. “Why must you always go alone?!”
“Sorry about all of that,” Burin apologized to the woman. “Try to be careful, with the demons and giants prowling about. The demons especially seem to hate women. Will you be okay here? Shall we leave you a blanket or something?”
“No, I will be fine, sir dwarf. I do thank you for your courtesy.”
“It’s the right thing to do,” Burin said, as he hurried off to join the others.
“Please don’t think ill of Terry,” I said. “She’s been under a lot of stress lately. I fear that she’s starting to crack under the pressure.”
“Perhaps,” the maiden replied. “Or perhaps she will surprise you. She sees more than you might think, but less than she believes. Farewell, and I bid you luck, should you encounter more of those giants or demons.”
“We don’t need luck,” I said with a smirk. “Terry wasn’t lying about us being amazing in battle.” If only we could keep it together have as well out of battle as we did in combat.
I spun on my heel and hurried after Burin.
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