That night, I didn’t go to the Dreamlands. Instead, I had a strange dream. There was a great, wounded wolf. She – at least, I think it was a she – was missing one of her front legs. And then the giant lizard – it looked like a dragon, but it didn’t have wings – showed up. The wolf and I fought it, but were horribly outmatched and had to flee.
I opened a portal of some kind and pushed the wolf through it, then I took to the sky, hoping to evade the wingless creature that way. But it sprouted wings and gave chase. So I kept flying higher. I knew it would get colder the higher I went, and I hoped that I’d be able to withstand the cold better than the giant lizard. After all, it wasn’t a white or silver dragon.
But no matter how high I flew, the dragon kept coming. So I kept flying, higher and higher. I didn’t have a better plan and was working on sheer panic. I knew that if the dragon caught me it would tear me to pieces.
Eventually, I found myself in so high up, I had breached the atmosphere and was in outer space!
The dragon’s face took on a look of panic and started convulsing as it couldn’t breathe. It began diving back down immediately, and I slowed to a hover. I didn’t seem to be having any trouble being here, so I could watch in safety as the dragon burned up on reentry.
I woke up to the sound of sobbing. I sat up and looked around. Burin and Gregor weren’t there, just Terry. And she was crying. I considered giving her some privacy and pretending I didn’t hear her, but decided against it.
“What’s wrong?” I asked the girl.
“Nothing ever goes right! Everyone I count on dies! And now Lyriana’s dead and I’m gonna be stuck with the dwarf forever!”
Wait. “What was that? Who is dead?”
“Lyriana’s dead!” she wailed.
Weird. I didn’t feel dead. I looked over to my bedroll to make sure my body wasn’t there and my spirit wasn’t just floating here, talking to the girl. “Why do you think Lyriana’s dead?” I asked.
“I went to wake her, but she’s not breathing!”
“Don’t be silly, of course I’m still breathing… Huh.” That was weird. I wasn’t breathing. I held a finger to my neck. There was still a pulse. I then tried taking a breath on purpose. Yeah, I could still breathe. It just seemed like I no longer needed to.
Terry finally realized it was me talking to her. Her eyes grew wide and she bounded away from me. Her back was to the wall and her hand was on her gun, though she wasn’t actually pointing it at me, which was an improvement. “What are you?” she demanded. “Why aren’t you breathing? Please don’t make me shoot you.”
“I’m really not sure,” I said. “It might be because of the magic in my blood, though.”
“Explain.”
“My magic is tied to the stars and the dark void between them. There’s no air up there. So maybe my magic is adapting me for travel up there? And if that’s the case, as my magic gets stronger, I’d almost be willing to bet that I’ll eventually be able to see in any form of darkness and will become immune to cold. I might even gain the ability to fly fast enough to travel the depths of space.”
“Okay, so it’s just magic?”
“I think?” I really wasn’t sure, but it was the only guess I had.
Terry took a deep breath. “Okay. I can handle that. And if it means your magic is getting stronger, then I’m that much closer to being free of the dwarf.”
Speaking of Burin… “Hey, where is Burin, anyway?”
“He went to get Gregor. Apparently his imaginary friend came by for a visit, so Gregor’s in a nearby chamber, training.”
Imaginary friend? Oh, right. “So the God of Martial Arts has decided to visit him again? Time for him to learn some new kind of skill maybe?”
“Could be.” She made a disgusted noise. “I think he needs to get his head checked. He may have just taken too many blows to the brain.”
A few moments later, Gregor and Burin returned. I heard them before I saw them. “Wait, you’re telling me that you actually know spells?” Gregor was asking.
“Yes,” Burin answered. “I am a wizard. See?” I heard him cast a spell – a cantrip to conjure acid – followed by the sound of liquid hitting rock.
“Huh,” Gregor responded. The two entered the room and walked right past us. Gregor was deep in thought and I didn’t want to disturb him. Suddenly, he stopped and turned. “Terry, did you know that Burin is a wizard?”
She looked confused by the question. “Yes?” she asked tentatively. “I mean, he’s cast a lot of spells. Remember the goat-ghost thing? We wouldn’t have been able to hit it if Burin hadn’t temporarily enchanted our weapons.”
Gregor rolled his eyes as if it should be obvious why that was false. “He was using scrolls. You don’t have to be a spellcaster to use scrolls.”
“Actually,” Burin interjected, “while you’re technically correct, you’re also wrong. Using a scroll isn’t like using a wand or a magic ring. It’s a lot more complicated. That isn’t to say that you can’t learn to cast spells from a scroll without learning how to cast your own spells, but it’s unusual. Remember the talk we had about the difference in power from magical spells? Well, if you’re going to learn how to use a scroll, you’re most of the way to ‘bucket’ level spells anyway. Most people just go those extra few steps and learn the magic.”
“Yes, but Terry’s gun is magical, and no wizard had to make it,” Gregor argued.
“That’s because a wizard made the magic box and bound some kind of spirit in there to do the work for him,” Terry said. “It’s typical for wizards, really. They’re always trying to find ways to make other people do their work.” Apparently, despite not having a lot of knowledge of magic, she certainly had a strong opinion of wizards. And not a good one, it seemed.
“But the magic is still in the scroll,” Gregor argued. “It’s not like real wizard magic, which comes from within.”
“That’s not really accurate, either,” Burin said. “Wizards tap into ley lines and shape the external energies around us. There are magical sources everywhere. Generally, very little of our magic comes from within.”
“So what source would make Lyriana stop breathing?” Terry asked.
Burin looked at me. “Huh. You aren’t breathing.” This was going to be a thing, apparently. “Is this somehow tied to the source of your magic?” I nodded. “Neat.”
“Is it evil?” Terry asked, wanting a second opinion.
“No, I don’t think so. We’ve spoken about the source of her magic before, and I think it’s simply adaptation to conditions like that of the source.”
Terry blinked. “Sometimes, Burin, you make me think you’re not a complete idiot after all.”
Gregor laughed. “Well, he would have to be smart to be a wizard.”
Burin shook his head. “Not necessarily true. I mean, it is, but at the same time, I’ve known wizards who lacked the common sense the gods gave to a garden slug.”
“That’s weird. Then how did they become wizards?” Terry asked.
“Geniuses who lack common sense are actually very common,” I said.
“Huh. So, if the magic comes from outside, do you choose to be a wizard, or is it a talent that chooses you?”
“You choose,” Burin answered.
“It’s a little of both,” I said simultaneously.
“Wow, son of a bitch,” I heard Terry whisper. “So if you sometimes choose, and sometimes it chooses you, which path leads to a dragon?”
“Burin’s, apparently,” I answered.
“I think that’s something to do with the dragon my ancestor fought,” Burin said, not entirely disagreeing.
During the conversation, we had set out and were now nearing the end of another tunnel. Before us was a strange forest of leafless trees in a rather large natural-looking cavern. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that the trees weren’t actually trees, but appeared to be comprised of strange sculpted rocks. Or maybe petrified wood? It kind of looked like petrified wood I’d seen back on Earth.
Within the forest waited an asura, a being brought into existence by the very act of a deity making a mistake who seeks nothing more than the destruction of everything to sate their desire for revenge at the rejection they face from the divine. This creature, known as an upasunda, took the form of a woman with six arms and three faces on her head. She was pretty attractive, in a terrifying kind of way. I’d bet upasundas could make a lot of money in the pornography business if they ever gave up on their drive for perfect destruction.
“I have been waiting for you, Bringers of Destruction!” she called out to us. “I am known as Ranisukalapadi. I sensed your arrival in this place and hoped I would get a chance to face you. Come, show me your power. Let one of us be destroyed this very day!”
“See, now that’s evil,” I said to Terry.
“Obviously,” the girl replied.
Ranisukalapadi drew her weapons and began to charge. Burin unleashed a spell – a powerful ray of necromantic energy created by a spell that was on the same level as spells I had mastered, if it matters – which the asura resisted. I had been practicing to get better at overcoming resistances, but I figured it would be better to instead enhance my allies, so I cast a spell to quicken their movements.
Gregor stopped her charge with a punch and Terry shot over his shoulder, sending a bullet straight through our foes mouth and out the back of her skull. She collapsed. Terry handed Burin Bekkin’s leash absentmindedly and walked over to inspect her handiwork.
“Huh, it looks like a butterfly,” she said, indicating the blood and brains splattered all over the floor.
“Yes, very nice,” Gregor said patronizingly.
“You think maybe Desna’s trying to tell us she’s happy about us killing one of these things?” Burin asked me. I just shrugged. What do I know about the wills of gods?
Burin tied Bekkin’s leash around a tree as we made our way over. Realizing that he had left the pig behind, Terry gave him a look and ran over to retrieve her pet, which she stuck into her guitar case, leaving his head sticking out like some kind of purse puppy. Purse piggy.
Gregor put his hand on Burin’s shoulder. “Perhaps you need to practice your magic more.”
“It happens sometimes. But maybe I should try using it more,” the dwarf admitted.
We passed through the “forest” and found another corridor. Down that tunnel, we came to a chamber which contained a ring of large stones and another one of those magical archways. Gregor immediately turned to Terry. “Don’t go alone.”
“Fine,” Terry said, rolling her eyes.
Burin was inspecting the large stones, studying the magic within them. “Anything interesting?” I asked.
“They’re filled with divination magic. I’m not sure what exactly they’re for, but I suspect that they’re used to scry on somewhere.”
“Maybe we could use them to check out what else lays within Artrosa? Maybe even find a way to bypass those giants and get to our destination, wherever that might actually be?” I suggested.
“Perhaps, but it might be dangerous to mess with them before we know better.”
My Aunt Maggie has something she likes to say before doing things that might potentially be stupid but are worth trying anyway. “YOLO.” I forget what it actually stands for, but I don’t really care. If ever there was a time to live by it, now was that time.
I walked over and immediately began trying to activate the stones. Moments later, I found my consciousness transported somewhere else.
I was definitely outside. And HOLY CRAP IS THAT TINY THING A TREE?! It was! I had somehow transported my consciousness into the giant statue that was this section of Artrosa! I could move my hands! And the head could be turned to look around!
I suddenly wondered if I could talk. “You, in the valley two miles over! YOUR PREGNANT QUEEN DEMANDS KIMCHEE AND POP TARTS!” My voice boomed over the valley. I could have fun with this all day. But that was the only craving of Mother’s I recalled from back when she was pregnant with my little brother. Oh well. It was time to go back.
But not before striking a bit of a pose. I would have to remember to stop and take a picture with my phone when we left. I definitely wanted a pic of the giant pregnant lady statue mid-headbang with both arms held up flashing devil horns.
I found myself back in my body, but it wasn’t all at once. I could hear a few moments before I could see, and even then, my vision came back blurry as my eyes took several moments to focus.
So the first thing I noticed was a voice. Burin’s voice. “No, we’re the Black Rider now,” he was saying.
“What happened to him?” a woman’s voice was asking.
“He died,” Terry said. “After cutting his own throat and bleeding all over some weird objects.”
“Do you have proof?” the voice asked.
“Umm, one sec.” Terry opened her guitar cast and pulled out Bekkin, holding him out so someone could grab him. My vision fully focused just in time to see an invisible figure take the pig from her and hold it as if she was examining it. At least, I think that’s what she was doing, since she was still invisible.
“This is not the proof I seek,” the voice said.
“Sorry, it doesn’t seem to be in here. Do one of you guys have that mask thingy?”
“We tossed it into the cauldron and it disappeared,” Burin reminded her.
“Oh, right. Sorry, I guess we don’t really have actual proof,” Terry said, actually sounding apologetic.
“It is no matter. I think I believe you. If you’re telling the truth, then my long task may at last be complete.” There was some shimmering, and the form of a night hag appeared before us. “I am Nostafa, and if you are telling the truth, then it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
I was immediately on my guard. “You’re not with Caigreal, are you?”
“No, I serve Baba Yaga directly.”
“NOSE TAFFY?” Terry laughed. “What kind of stupid name is that?”
“Do you ever shut up, child?” Nostafa asked.
“No. I have a high metabolism.”
“What?”
“Is best to ignore girl most of the time,” Gregor chimed in. “She will drive you crazy if you do not.”
The hag nodded. “I am beginning to understand that.” She pulled out a bottle. “This is for you,” she said, handing it to the nearest person who wasn’t Terry, which ended up being Burin. “It contains a message from Baba Yaga herself.”
Burin opened the bottle, and we heard the voice of the ancient witch. “If you hear these words, my own blood has betrayed me. Jadrenka has one key; the other lies in the Eon Pit. Follow my trail!”
Since Elvanna seemed to be usurping her mother’s position, it was obvious that her child had betrayed her. But the rest of this was interesting. “What’s the Eon Pit?” I asked.
Nostafa casually chucked Bekkin over her shoulder. A horrified Terry ran after him. Bekkin squealed in pain, and Terry carried him over to me. I tapped him with the magic wand and his wounds began to mend. Meanwhile, Nostafa answered me. “It contains one of Baba Yaga’s most powerful curses. If you enter the pit, it will age you. If you tarry too long, you’ll die of old age.”
Nebula, who had been napping on my shoulder this whole time, stretched and whispered into my ear. “What is age to a cat?”
“You think you can get whatever’s in there?” I whispered back. Nebula gave me a look as if that was a stupid question, then went back to sleep. “I think we’ll be okay,” I told the others. “I think we’ve got a way to handle this.”
I heard the sound of Gregor’s voice off to one side. “No. We need information!” I turned just in time to see him smack Terry, who looked to be ready to pick a fight with the hag.
I realized we needed to hurry before this came to blows. “What’s the quickest way to the Eon Pit?” I asked.
“Just keep going the way you’re already going. You’ll get there, quickly enough.”
“Now, tell us what you know of Baba Yaga’s daughter, Queen Elvanna,” Terry demanded.
Nostafa appraised her for a moment. “Your questions aren’t worth my time,” she said. “My work is done. Do what you will.” She then began walking off, but not before lobbing a spell right past Bekkin and laughing. It was just a simple spell to temporarily weaken a creature’s muscles and wouldn’t have done much beyond leaving the pig weak for about a minute or so. But it looked flashy and upset Terry.
Gregor barely managed to grab the gun away before Terry shot Nostafa in the back.
The last we saw of Nostafa was her back as she turned invisible once more, but we heard her laugh for several moments longer before she was gone. At least, I think she was gone. Who knows? Maybe she decided to stay and see what we did. Couldn’t say.
An annoyed Terry put her gun and Bekkin back in her guitar case, his head sticking out once more. She then pulled out one of those keys that Jadrenka – at least, we think it was Jadrenka each time – had given her. She grabbed Gregor’s wrist. “Okay. I’m not going alone,” she grumbled.
She then walked face first right into the wall behind the arch. I barely managed not to laugh. I’m pretty sure I heard Burin snort. Gregor raised his eyebrow. “Well, you were right. You’re definitely not going alone this time.”
“Hush, you,” Terry said, pulling out another key. “I just had the wrong key.” This time, she reached out and touched the key to the arch. Nothing happened. “Okay, this one?” Nothing happened. “WHY GIVE ME KEYS THAT DON’T WORK?!”
“They did work,” Burin said. “The other times. They must just not go to this specific door.”
“That’s stupid,” Terry grumbled.
“Give me a sec,” I said, carefully activating the magical portal by tracing the runes. It’s not unlike a combination lock whose code can be deciphered by the marks on the lock itself, once you know what you’re looking for. And I’d been studying.
The archway activated. “Let’s go,” Gregor said, pulling Terry behind him. Burin was already walking through. I went through last, and we found ourselves in another corridor.
It was rather cold inside, though it didn’t bother any of us thanks to our magic gear. But I’d hazard a guess by the frost on the walls that it was at least below freezing. At least the floor wasn’t slippery, not that I would have really noticed with my magic boots. It was probably a good thing Bekkin was mostly inside a warmer space. Nebby seemed fine, so I didn’t wake her.
At the end of the corridor, we found a locked door with a wreath of goat skulls on it. “Of course it’s goats,” Terry complained as she picked the lock.
Inside the room was a withered cornfield underneath a night sky, which was obviously fake. The stars weren’t in the right positions at all, even if a few constellations were there. It was obviously an illusion, and not one created by someone with an eye for detail, at least when it came to the stars.
There were dead ravens everywhere, and a wizened crone stood in the center of the field, staring at the fake sky while being supported heavily by her gnarled staff. She didn’t seem to notice our arrival. Or if she had, she apparently didn’t care.
“Hello?” Burin called out.
The woman turned and looked at us. “My, but you have come far indeed. Something drives you.” Her voice was definitely not that of Baba Yaga, which was my initial suspicion.
“Do you know us?” Burin asked.
“Perhaps or perhaps not. What do you believe?”
“I believe that you had an ox the first time we saw you,” Terry said. “Then a baby in the oven the second time.”
The woman, who now that I was paying attention, sort of looked like Jadrenka, just gave her a bemused smile. “A cancer festers within the Crone. To face the Curse of Eons, time must be on your side.”
“Actually, we’ve already got that one figure out,” I said. “What’s this about a cancer?”
Apparently Terry wasn’t the only one going unanswered. “You have what you need. I have that which you seek. Perhaps we’ll see if you’re worthy.”
She turned and began to leave, but Terry called after her. “How did things go with Marislova?” The woman stopped, glanced over her shoulder, then continued walking. “Well, you shouldn’t try to control your lo-“ Terry was cut off as the woman disappeared. “Well fine. See if I help you again,” the girl said, sticking out her tongue.
“Do you think that the cancer is that centaur invader?” Burin asked.
“It is possible,” Gregor answered.
“Well, it looks like they came in here through this door, but then this other door is caved in away from the room, like that’s the way they went next.”
“Then we go that way,” Terry said. “Maybe if we kill this invader, someone around here will finally give us a straight answer.” I think she was just annoyed and wanted an excuse to shoot something, if I’m being honest.
But she wasn’t wrong in what she said. It would indeed make our lives easier if we could just get someone to guide us through the labyrinth. So killing it was.
As we headed down the corridor, Terry pulled on my sleeve. “Yes?” I asked.
“This was in my pocket,” she said, handing me a scroll and a note.
“Just in case,” the note said. A quick inspection revealed that the scroll would help a bit if one of us needed to go into the Eon Pit by giving us some protection against the aging curse.
We heard voices. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, since it was in the language of giants, but it was easy to tell from tones of voice and inflection clues that it was obviously a pair of bored guards.
It was indeed another pair of frost giants. They died quickly, one to a well-placed shot between the eyes by Terry. “MACHINE OF DEATH!” she shouted while jumping and cheering. The vibrations of her landing caused a goat skull to fall from the ceiling and hit her in the head. Annoyed, she kicked it down the hallway behind us. Once more, I did my best not to laugh, trying to pretend like I hadn’t seen anything at all.
Once they were dead, we heard a sound like the roar of thunder from the room behind them. We tried the door and found was barred from the inside, or perhaps something was holding it shut. “I can try to break it,” Gregor said.
“I’ll help,” Burin offered.
Then I got an idea. “Wait. Hey, Terry, didn’t you make a bunch of grenades the other day?”
“Yeah, why?” she asked.
“Let’s tape them all to the edges of the door and set them all off at once.”
She looked at me like I was crazy at first, then an evil smile crept across her face. “YES,” was all that she said.
While we did that, Gregor skinned the giants. It didn’t take long before we were ready, though we did have to make a few other preparations to ensure that they’d all go off at once. Finally, we had to prepare our various pre-fight spells and items, to ensure that we were had the best possible chance of taking out this enemy. Burin even injured himself after casting a spell, causing his magically enchanted blood to form an additional layer of armor and we healed his wounds.
We even put some magical light on Terry’s gun – shielded like a flashlight – so she could see what we were fighting if the room beyond was dark. When we were ready, I unleashed a fireball, which set off the oil and gunpowder coated fuses, which set off the grenades. The door burst inwards with extreme force. If there was anything on the other side, it was certainly flattened.
Then we charged in. The others made it in a few seconds before me, but I arrived in time to spot a massive eight-legged creature that looked like a cross between a centaur and a frost giant. Later research revealed that it was known as a svathurim, said to have been created when Thremyr – evil deity of frost giants – fell into a sea and shed icebergs which became the first of the svathurim. Interestingly, Thremyr is said to have created the first Winter Wolves, but I suspect that’s not a subject I should mention to Greta.
I laid out of a field of writhing black tentacles around the enemy centaur hiding behind the svathurim as Burin charged forward, then the Svathurim charged over him, Gregor and myself. And this is despite the fact that Gregor had used his boots to take the form of a frost giant.
I can’t begin to describe how loud it was, though I must say that I’ve been to rock concerts that were quieter. I can also point out that I was completely deaf after the charge, even though I suffered only a glancing blow from the hooves of the creature. Do you have any idea how hard it is to cast spells when you can’t hear yourself speak? Well, let me tell you, it’s not easy.
The enemy centaur cast a spell that unleashes a bolt of concentrated chaos, which does damage to less flexible minds. Burin, Terry and I were all pretty flexible, so it did nothing, but the rigors of his training had left Gregor’s mind rigid, so I could see him reeling from the blow.
I cast a spell despite my temporary impairment and Gregor found himself able to move as normal, while the rest of us had our minds and bodies quickened. Gregor and Burin attacked the Svathurim – Burin took a nasty hit as he chased the creature – and Terry used her enhanced quickness to unleash a deadly volley of bullets that finished off both of the foes in roughly twelve seconds.
The centaur caster – likely Vsevolod – collapsed in the writhing tentacles, which continued to pull and tear at him, eventually ripping limbs from his body before finally fading as the magic subsided.
At last, I could take some time and really look over the cavern. It was massive, and dark. And there was a giant pit of swirling mist off to one side, with skulls of all kinds around it in a border. There were also two dead frost giants and a couple dead andrazkus lying near where Vsevolod had been. I suspected that he’d sacrificed them to summon the svathurim, but I couldn’t be sure.
It took about a minute for my hearing to return and the ringing in my ears to subside, which my companions used to begin looting the dead centaur and the chest filled with treasure he had with him. I then poked Nebula – who had somehow managed to sleep through that entire fight, which makes me think she was busy in the Dreamlands. “Hey, Lazybones, it’s your time to shine.”
Nebby stretched. “I’ll be back in a moment, Kitten,” she said to me, then flew into the mist. After about thirty seconds or so, she returned with a worn blue dragon scale in her mouth, which she spit into my hand. “This was the only thing in there.”
“I think it’s what we needed,” I assured her, scratching behind her ear as she rested once more on my shoulder.
“That is indeed what you seek,” I heard the voice of the old woman from before say. I turned and she was standing in the entrance. “You’ve done Artrosa a great service, champions. I hope that I didn’t cause you any trouble.” She pulled a gold nugget on a leather throng from around her neck. “You will need this, as well.”
“These are keys for the hut, as were the others?” Gregor asked.
“Yes, though they are not the originals. Baba Yaga feared betrayal of some kind, so she left these for her riders to be able to follow her path and discover the truth of her fate.”
“We’re all that’s left now,” Burin said. “The three riders are dead, and the Black Rider entrusted us to find her.”
The woman – Jadrenka, as confirmed by the nugget she had given us – looked at the dead centaur and svathurim. “I would say he has chosen well, and discharged his duty admirably.” She looked at Terry. “Well, mostly, anyway,” she said with a mischievous cackle. Terry stuck out her tongue at the old woman.
“We should probably get moving,” Burin said. “I suspect we have a lot further to go before this is over.”
“I understand. I will gladly help you get outside. It is the least I can do. Come, reach out and touch my hand, all of you.” As we did so, she brought her other hand to her lips and kissed the ring upon it. Instantly we found ourselves outside, several miles away from Artrosa.
Jadrenka looked different outside, as if some magic had been changing her appearance in each of the dungeons, idealizing her form to match the dungeon itself, though it was clear that she was the same person we had been talking to before by the facial resemblance. She had a bemused expression on her face.
“Well, that is certainly not what I expected to see,” she said.
“What’s that?” Burin asked. Jadrenka pointed and he followed her finger. “Oh. That’s certainly different than when we were coming in.”
The rest all looked. “How?” Terry asked. “Who?”
“More importantly, why?” Gregor asked.
“I guess it’s just one of those things we’ll never know,” I said as I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the giant Mother sculpture. “Shall we get going?” I asked as I put my phone away.
“Right after I give Jadrenka some advice about Marislova,” Terry said.
The changeling laughed and handed Terry another key, then disappeared. Terry scowled and kicked the ground, then tucked the key away in her pocket. “Come on, Bekkin,” she said. “If she doesn’t want our advice, then I guess she’ll just have to deal with constant fighting and heartbreak. We’ll just get to the hut that much quicker. And then I can give you some cake. You like cake, don’t you boy? Of course you do. Everyone likes cake.”
And with that, she marched off, the rest of us trying our hardest not to laugh.