Descending Dragon - Chapter five

Two steps into the mine I almost fainted.

Pain flared in my head and slithered down my neck and chest like it might escape my body. I buckled and called out until the agony found my side, and vanished. I stumbled upright, confused, scared to put my hand in my pocket. Somehow, I knew what I’d find. The little disc practically vibrated in my hand. It was so warm I nearly pulled away fearing it would burn skin.

“What is this thing?” I forced myself to lift it and found a dull light. More symbols I couldn’t read shone clearly across the surface.

[It’s a soulstone.]

I spun and whipped my stolen sword around as a feminine voice sounded from nowhere.

[Woah, kid, relax. The floor is filthy and I can’t spend another second down here.]

I blinked and scanned the tunnel for somewhere, anywhere a person might hide. Seeing none, I slowly put the words together. I stared at the metal rod I’d found before and apparently dropped in the dirt on the way out.

[Oh. Um. Don’t mind me. Just a mace. Rusty old mace over here, being macey. Carry on, brave hero!]

I reached down and lifted it, the metal almost as warm to the touch as the glowing trinket in my other hand. I took a few deep breaths and tried not to cough. It had to be the Delve. It drove folk crazy given enough time, and my headaches had started the second I went inside.

[Actually, the head aches likely started when you took that soulstone. Is what I would have said, if I wasn’t just a mace. Which I am.]

I blinked a few times, cleared my throat, and shook my head. It didn’t do anything save make the aching worse.

“Shut up,” I tried. “Get outta my head.”

[Hey, you picked me up. Twice. I was just growing rust over there in the dirt.]

I tried opening my jaw and popping my ears like I’d gone too far downhill. Suzie was deep down some terrible cave maybe dead or being eaten by fire-breathing demons and I didn’t have the time or patience for…whatever this was. I walked on. Being crazy wouldn’t stop me either.

[I’d say being crazy is the only reason you’re in here. I mean that soulstone says you’re a ‘squire’, for god’s sake. I’ve never even seen myself this pathetic. It’s actually kind of embarrassing.]

“What are you on about?” I kept walking, shoulders already sweaty from my heavy pack, belt jangling with potions and pots. I snorted and shook my head. “Why am I having a conversation with a metal stick.”

[Because I’m charming] it said, or maybe I did. [And I don’t like disagreeing with my wielders, Sam, but I am not, and I quote, a ‘metal stick’.]

I walked on and tried to ignore it. I really did. I followed the same corridor watching for traps, afraid of finding the same grisly pile of my friends’ bodies until I couldn’t help it and sighed.

“Then what are you?”

[I am Dipthariel, Sam the Squire. I am Lady of Righteousness, Mistress of Fire. I am she who shines in the dark and brings justice to the…]

“Well,” I ‘interrupted’, “you look just like a metal stick.”

She got quiet after that. I could almost feel the petulance as little shocks vibrating down my arm, but I wasn’t much in the mood to talk. The pile of my friends corpses was just ahead.

I put away the ‘soulstone’ and lit one of my torches, no idea what I’d do when they all ran out. Then again, surviving until I ran out of torches might be optimistic.

I rounded the first corner expecting a thunder of spider-horse hooves to come barreling down, but all I heard was flies. Several body parts looked crushed, probably trampled under that six-legged demon. I grit my teeth and walked on, trying not to notice the many bite marks on the bodies and that a few corpses were now missing heads.

After the carnage, the hallway widened and opened up, moving out into the well known larger cavern. I couldn’t see very far, even with my torch, and the idea that there might be things out there, waiting in the dark…

With a wince I tightened my grip on the mace and figured if I was crazy I might as well make use of it.

“Hey, uh, Stick...”

[It’s Lady Dipthvar…]

“Yeah. I’m not saying that.”

The sigh was palpable.

[Ariel would be fine.]

“Swell. Can you tell if there’s anything out there, Ariel? Can you see?”

[I’m a metal stick, Sam.]

I grit my teeth, but I at least felt this thing might be real, since it seemed wittier than me. “You don’t have a mouth,” I grumbled, “yet I can still hear you.”

[Touche. But no. I can’t see anything except what you see, Sam.]

I took a deep breath and blinked over and over without much use, also trying to ignore the fact that the talking mace could apparently use my eyes. I forced my feet along the wall to the right, my footsteps sounding along the stone, the noise quiet but still enough to make me cringe with every echoed thump.

The torch revealed a sloped floor that dropped down fairly quickly away, and I had the distinct feeling of not wanting to know where it led. One thing was certain: this cavern was huge.

Not knowing what else to do, I just kept following the wall. Somewhere in the distance I could hear a low groan, and maybe the sound of something breathing, a rhythmic wheeze that maybe meant a snore. My hand shook on the torch, sending shadows bouncing like dancing ghosts along the wall. I thought maybe talking would help my nerves.

“Why are you suddenly speaking to me, Ariel? And why is this…soulstone, glowing? Why now?” I whispered.

[Isn’t it obvious?]

“No.”

Another sigh. [Because you’ve decided you’re a hero, Sam. Because you left the ‘Delve’, as you call it, and saw what it was. And then you came back.]

I didn’t know what to say. I sure as hell didn’t feel like a hero—I felt like a damned fool going willfully to my death when any sensible man would run.

[Yes, said Ariel. That’s basically what a hero is.]

She was about as comforting as the sound of the groans growing louder in the distance. The wall finally curved, and I almost tripped and slid down the sloped floor, my heart pounding as I caught my feet. I closed my eyes when I recovered, and I could feel in my bones that somewhere close up ahead I was going to have to fight, or run.

“Hey, uh, Ariel.”

[Yes, Sam?]

“If you’re some kind of amazing magic weapon, what can you do for me?”

[Not much,] she said, quick as a cat.

“Why the hell not?”

[Because if I did your arm would light on fire and your eyes would melt as I scorched you with my magnificence.]

When I didn’t say anything, I had the distinct feeling ‘Ariel’ rolled her non-existent eyes.

[Because you’re too weak to wield my powers, Sam. Anyway, I wouldn’t worry about it.]

“Why is that?”

[Because you’re a ‘squire’ in an infernal pit, and you’re certainly going to die. Soon, I predict. Maybe just up ahead.]

And here I thought she’d been blunt before. I can’t say that helped much with the nerves, and I was sorry I asked, but sometimes you can’t help but push on and trust yourself to find a way.

Still, I felt like a fraud, I suppose, coming down here like some damned knight from a story. I knew I wasn’t that, I didn’t want to be. There just wasn’t anyone else, and the thought was sobering.

There wasn’t anyone else.

The ‘snores’ got faster and louder and soon I saw red eyes in the dark. I clutched my mace, readying myself to kill another few of the little fire-breathers like I had before. Another pair of eyes opened in the drop below. Then another. And another.

Soon enough the dark pit damn near glowed with more pairs than I could count, though to be honest I couldn’t count very high.

“Shit.”

My voice sounded calm, which wasn't confidence, just surprise. Like the great hero I was, I turned around, and ran.