Chapter 25: Arc V – The Tongue-Flower – Chapter 25 – Stats, a Skill, and a Riddle

Chapter 25 - Stats, a Skill, and a Riddle

When we caught up with Hess, I immediately filled her in on my recent find. As to the effects of the skill itself, she was totally ambivalent, not really caring what bonuses, if any, I might be able to provide her, nor did she have much of any advice on my personal build choices, saying only to ‘use my intuition’. I was less than happy with that answer, as you might expect.

“Donum,” she sighed, “I have a skill that grows my chance to behead a foe but for only a few seconds after I’ve shouted the word ‘head’, of all things. I have another that gives me a big physical boost but only after having lopped off an enemy’s body part and laughing about it. I have yet another that hugely increases my healing rate but only while I’m singing, and get this, it works better when I’m ‘pitchy’! I don’t even know what that means! Worse, none of those work at all, unless I’m so tanked that I can barely see. And I bought all of them while I was totally smashed. What was my reasoning for picking any of that? I don’t know! Because I was drunk! Are you following me here?”

Jax and I shared a look. “They do sound pretty cool,” I said diplomatically. Actually, I was pretty sure that I had seen her use them, and from my perspective, they were terrifying. The whole ‘having to be seriously inebriated’ component, though, was one hell of a drawback.

“Oh, whatever,” she muttered under her breath. “What about what we talked about? With my reservoirs? Weren’t you going to pick something to help with that?”

“Right, here’s the thing…” And so, I explained what I had learned about how my class worked and the side effects my powers could cause.

“Really? And this one causes pleasure, you say?” she asked, intrigued. “All the time?”

“The skill doesn’t actually say anything about that, but I did specifically ask for one that did. So… I think?” I said with a slight lift to my shoulders.

“Buy it,” she said, conclusively. “I want to see this.” She put on a lopsided grin as she waited with hands on hips.

Slightly off-put by her uncaring attitude, I looked to Jax. He was absently rubbing at one of his irritated nipples, apparently deep in thought. When he noticed my questioning look, he dropped his hand and said, “Sounds good enough to me. Works off o’ what else we got. I like it.” Then he whispered, “Nay, not that one…”

Leaving him to his own skill picks, I went ahead and hit ‘yes’ to accept the new ability. I had almost forgotten about them, but when they came, those whispered, gossamer voices sent a thrill down my spine. The words — and they were Words, I now knew — were as strange and alien as ever. Impossible. Unrepeatable. Yet they were. Seven distinct Words. I do not know what had changed in me to be able to tell even that much, but I took a measure of pride in my small victory, just the same.

Weirdly, underneath those voices, there was another. I only just caught it, faint as it was, but it was… calling me. Plaintive. Almost sad. “…ave y…” Intrigued, I cocked my head to the side, trying to listen for whatever that voice was trying to say. But it was gone. That was all I caught before the whispers scattered in the wind.

When it was over, I felt… nothing? There was no new hidden knowledge settling over me nor any idea of a spell I might cast. Curiously, I pulled up my skill list, and there it was, happily sitting right next to my other picks, though it was only level one. Oddly, despite it being a passive, there was no toggle to turn it on or off like my other one. It was just there.

“Okay, that’s it. I’ve got it,” I reported with a degree of confidence I did not feel. Looking between them, I asked curiously, “Feel anything?”

Both of them went distant for a moment as they examined their own feelings, but after a bit, they glanced at each other.

“Nay, mate. I don’t feel shite,” Jax said.

Hess was scowling, “Neither do I.” Crossing her arms, she pouted, “’Snails! I was promised titillation!”

I grimaced, “Well, crap! I don’t know what to tell you. She said…”

Just then, Jax jumped. Both Hess and I immediately zeroed in on the motion, intently curious.

“That were an oddment,” Jax quipped. We waited, but he seemed to be having trouble putting whatever it was into words. Finally, with his hands lifted and grasping at nothing, he said, “It were like… the idea o’ sommat really nice? Just… popped inna me head. Outta nowhere, like.”

“Idea?” Hess asked curiously. “What kind of idea?”

He gave his head a half shake, still not focusing on either of us, “Like a… daydream o’ sommat? But only a flash.” He sighed, “I do be sorry. It be hard to put in to words.”

Hess turned to me, “And where is my ‘daydream o’ sommat’? I want daydreams, too!” Her impression of Jax was a little exaggerated.

“The Lady did tell ‘em, ‘ere a moment ago, what that ye’d ‘ave to accept his ‘influence’ to feel it. But we neither of us know what that means, precisedly,” Jax supplied, suppressing a chuckle. He seemed to find the banter amusing.

“His influence?” she said, perplexed. “And just what is that…”

They both twitched. Silently, we all traded looks.

“I guess you got it that time,” I said. At her nod, I asked, “What was different? How did it get through?”

“Not sure…” she said, hesitatingly. “Only that I really wanted to feel it, I guess…”

“Maybe that’s it then,” I said. “The question, though, is whether you have to consciously will it through or is just being generally willing enough?”

She blinked a few times and tilted her head, “We’ll have to see.”

I nodded. “Did that help fill up your tank at all?” I asked.

She gave a quick jerk of her head, “Barely. If at all.”

I grimaced. I had thought as much. From the way they were reacting, this was going to be more of a slow drip than a constant stream. Still, over time it should add up, even if it was a little disappointing.

Seeing as how that did not pan out quite like I had hoped, I thought that perhaps I should follow through on our earlier project, if only to help things along for her. Of course, I was not at all sure about how to go about it. What, after all, is the proper way to flirt? Thinking about it, it was probably a lot like comedy. Timing would be a factor, what you said would have to be tuned to the individual, and of course, it would help if you were at all clever about it. Unfortunately, knowing myself, this was going to be a complete shitshow. I sighed.

Taking a breath to steel myself, I decided to just go for it. She had said that she would teach me, after all. “Uh, by the way, Hess, I forgot to tell you that you have some nice booty meat.”

Jax choked and started violently coughing to the side. It occurred to me in the moment that I perhaps should have warned the man before diving in head first. Meanwhile, Hess was staring at me like I had just intentionally body tackled a hornet’s nest. Luckily, she also found random acts of wildly unintelligent behavior to be hilarious.

After settling down enough to finally speak again, she clapped me on the shoulder, perhaps just a tad too hard, and said, “A couple of notes…”

 

A bit later, we had decided to take a look at the tree that Jax had found. There was some sort of intricate writing carved into it, just as he had indicated. Fortunately, Hess was familiar with it, if only barely. Apparently, it was some kind of system that did not use any vowels — not that the language itself did not have them, so much that the reader just had to infer them from context. Worse, from what she could tell, this was being used not to actually write in the language it was intended for, but was actually a representation of Laoi’na — a language which, I may not have mentioned, is so chock full of vowels that I felt like I was choking on them every time I spoke it.

Suffice it to say, Hess had her work cut out for her before she could work out the translation while Jax and I were left twiddling our thumbs. Seeing as Jax was still going over his skill options, I decided to start assigning stat points.

Everything looked about like I remembered, although I did note that Jax had broken through fifty percent on his loyalty meter at some point. My recent lack of skill updates had apparently also included his loyalty bump notices. I really did need to figure out why that was, eventually. Still, it was nice to see that we seemed to be getting along.

I did try to take a few moments to go over the stats with Sherr Hess, but she was still busy with her translation and did not want to be bothered. “Just focus on the mentals… they’ll help you cast better. Then use the other point however you want.”

It was not… terrible advice. Still, I had hoped for a few more details. Like… what would happen if you focused on Intelligence over Wisdom? And Charisma was a factor, also? Somehow? I sighed. The inability to put more than one point in a stat really did keep you from screwing yourself over too badly. At least, at first. Once you got to the stage where the point costs started to double, that was another matter, but for now, I should be fine.

So, with all of that in mind, I went ahead and incremented up Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma — noting that, yet again, I needed a bath. Thank you, Lady Bline, for the gentle reminder… I grumbled mentally.

Briefly, I debated whether to spend my last point on Agility or Toughness, but there really was no contest. Menda, after all, had told me that Toughness affected my Life Energy pool, and I needed some more of that like a coke fiend needed his next fix.

“I told ye, ye gantin boot, I ain’t gonna pick shite with a name like that!” Jax growled. “I said, no! I don’t care how sloppy it makes ye!”

I cocked an eyebrow. I had been wondering how he had been getting on with the Lady recently. He had not had a blow up with Her for quite some time. I guess it helped that he had not needed to interact with her until just today.

“I kind of hated the name of my new skill, too,” I offered. He had not actually told me what any of his skills were called, and actively rebuffed me when I had asked. I figured that maybe a bit of shared pain would help him open up about it.

Jax, of course, knew exactly what I was after. He looked me up and down and crossed his arms, “Let’s be hearin’ it then. Tit fer… ah…” He gave his head a shake and blinked a few times. Clearing his throat, he continued, “Tit fer tat.”

It looked like one of those pulses had caught him mid-sentence. I had been trying to measure them, and from what I could tell, the phenomenon seemed to happen every minute to a minute and a half. It was getting harder to see them, though. Either they were being affected less, or they were just getting used to it. It was a curious thing.

“So… this daydream that you keep getting…” I said, my attention temporarily diverted, “is that getting any clearer?”

He grunted, “It be like… me thoughts get pushed. Just a drop. Thinkin’ of a roll o’ the shoulder… a bit o’ sweat. The play o’ muscle under the skin… Honestly, if I did nay know it were comin’ from ye, I’d be thinkin’ I needed to pop off to the bushes fer a spell.” He chuckled at his own innuendo, but then dropped his hands to his hips, “But don’t be dodgin’ the subject! Ye wanted to know me skill, so tell me yer own.”

I twisted my lip a bit. What he was describing was awfully subtle. Personally, I would have thought that something a bit more explicit would be in order, but… maybe it was like Hess had said. You had to tease things out a bit before you went for the prize. As for the prior subject, however…

Furtively, I glanced over at Hess to see if she was paying attention, but she was focused entirely on the carving. “Alright,” I whispered, “it’s a little… Well, let’s just say that I don’t care for the insinuation.”

“Sounds familiar. Go on,” he gestured.

After a short hesitation, I admitted, “It’s called ‘Windfall of the Thrall’.”

He snorted, “That all? Why, some o’ the shite she names fer me’d turn yer ears red! This last one…” he trailed off.

“Yeah?” I prompted, curious as to what could be worse than implying that I was some kind of slave driver.

He cleared his throat as a faint blush started to rise up to his cheeks. I blinked a few times, taking in the expression. I did not think that I had ever seen him do that before. “Look, maybe I’d best explain… The Lady do be… oh… I guess hopeful would be the word… that the two of us’d… er… hook up, I suppose ye’d say.” That was probably the most awkward sentence I had ever heard come out of him. “So… the skills she do come up with tend to hint at that.”

“Okay…” I said slowly, not at all certain how to take the fact that a Goddess was shipping me with this man, “but she does, of course, realize that the two of us don’t swing that way?” But then I had a thought, “Or… I never asked, but… are you into that?”

“Well…” his chin dipped, “I guess ye’d say… Well, I ain’t never considered the notion! Not afore She got on about it.”

Huh. That was a bit of a dodge. Jax just might have been a touch bi. Funny. I had not gotten even a hint of that when he had been tasked with kissing me. Well, whatever. I gave him an understanding nod, “Well… If you ever do want to… consider it… I won’t give you a hard time about it.” Then I recalled the direction of our conversation, “Uh… not with me, of course. Just to be clear… to all interested parties.”

He smirked, “Figured, with yer fancy poofin’ high society upbringin’, ye’d be used to that s-ah…” he shook his head a bit as another pulse rolled over him before continuing, “that sort.”

I gave him a confused look, “’That sort’? Jax, we are talking about you here.”

“I never said nothin’ about bein’ no poof!” he said loudly. Then more calmly, he went on, “Just… I ain’t… Well, me old compatriots would o’ strung up a feller fer entertainin’ such.”

Hmm… a bit of justifiable denial, then. Deciding not to push the matter, I figured it would be best to change course. “So, the skill?” I prompted.

He gave a conflicted sigh and went to sit on one of the tombstones. Apparently forgetting he was still a bit sensitive, he folded his arms and winced. Fidgeting for a moment, as if unsure what to do with his hands, he finally laid them to rest in his lap. Finally, settled, he looked up at me, “I do have one picked. But I want it clear that I be takin’ it under duress.”

“Understandable,” I said immediately. I had set a frankly unreasonable requirement on him. I did not even know if it would be worth investing into in the long run. Maybe spending time with someone like Sherr Hess was having a bad influence on me. “Do you think it’s a bad idea, then?”

He looked away for a moment, considering. “No,” he said, eventually, “like ye said, lot o’ yer skills cause it, like it or not. I got to be prepared fer that. And it ain’t a bad way o’ tryin’ to come to terms.” He took a breath, “I just don’t like how bloody eager She be about it.”

That was indeed a bit disconcerting. “I don’t know what to say about that. Can you talk to Her about it? Maybe get Her to back off?”

“It ain’t like it be a conversation,” he said. “I ask fer skills and She answers. But Her manner…” he shook his head. “Little taunts. Suggestions tacked on. That kind o’ thing.”

“Then…” I said, nodding slowly, “your only options are to either ignore Her, or… well, She doesn’t seem to pay attention to you getting mad, anyway.”

“True enough,” he muttered.

“I guess, short of somehow slapping around a deity, you’re just going to have to put up with it. We are taking up a lot of Her time with no clear pay back, that I can see. Let Her have Her fun. Think of it like… bar room banter,” I suggested.

“Fine,” he sighed sullenly. “But…” he stopped briefly as another pulse washed over him. Giving his head a shake, he went on like nothing had happened, “But, I reserve me rights to grumblin’.”

“Like I could stop you,” I chuckled. These little flashes of interruption were going to take some getting used to. “What’s this skill you picked out, then?”

“Right,” he nodded. “So, I were thinkin’, I gots an axe, and I can fight with it. But what happens if I gets unlucky? I wake up the next day somewheres else, that’s what! An’ no idea how I got there!” he explained, with a degree of reserved excitement.

“So… defense?” I guessed.

“Right, you are! And, goin’ off o’ what we was talkin’ about, I found sommat that should do the trick. The more uh… ready to go I be, the better it works. What She says, anyway. I ain’t sure I’ve understood it proper.” He paused there, as if hesitant to go any further.

“Well, what does it do?” I prompted.

“She claims that I can split off shadows o’ meself to take hits and befuddle the enemy. But… uh… The mechanism, so to speak, be a little suspect,” he trailed off again.

“Go on, Jax. I won’t judge,” I promised.

He cleared his throat. “Says I gotta…” he glanced over at Hess and lowered his voice, “Her words now… ‘moan excitedly to birth them into the world’.”

My lips slowly parted from my teeth into a pained grimace, “Oof… I… understand what you mean. That’s a big ask. I can see why it would work best if you were already…” I gestured.

“Right,” he agreed.

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“And what is that gem called?” I asked, half afraid now.

“Yeah, what is that gem called?” Hess said from right beside me.

I jumped away, startled. “Lawmaiden’s tush! Where did you come from?” I shouted in alarm.

“Well, I was sitting over there, listening, but then you two started whispering, so I moved closer,” she explained innocently.

“We was whisperin’ cause it were a private conversation, ye cow!” Jax scowled.

“Not that private,” she retorted, “I could hear you the entire time.”

Jax just threw up his hands and walked away.

“Come back! I want to see you moan shadows into the world!” she called after him. “At least tell us what it’s called!”

“I take it, then, that you’ve finished your translation?” I said from the side, trying to get things back on track. We had been delayed for over an hour now, I figured. It was time to get things going.

“Yes, I think,” she said, still looking at Jax. “What’s this about The Lady being… saucy, though? I’ve never heard of something like that.”

“Really?” I asked curiously. “Even with your weird-o class? What’s She like with you?”

“Very matter of fact,” she said, plainly. “Even when She gives me some strange, lost-in-the-bushes ability, She always reads it off like it was the most boring thing ever. It’s kind of funny in its own way. What about you?”

I definitely caught that bit about ‘reading’ abilities. That implied that Hess heard The Lady aloud, as well. So, either I was an anomaly, or the inability to read was not the requirement for hearing Her. Deciding to be evasive, I reported on the one time I actually had heard Her, “Uh… kind of pissed off. Yet… disinterested, maybe?” If all those high pitched beeping sounds I had heard were what I thought they were, then She was probably swearing a blue streak at the time.

“Huh…” she said, musingly. “Well, whatever. Come look.” She led me over to the carving, stumbling a bit as a pulse washed over her, and then, as if nothing had happened, started pointing out the different lines. “Right. So, it says here, ‘In day, the world dies, ‘ware the pass. In night, the world lives, walk unfettered.’ It’s actually kind of clever. In the actual alphabet used here, these lines would rhyme, but it doesn’t work anymore when you say it in Laoi’na.”

I leaned in to get a closer look at the carving, intrigued, “I… think we’ve figured that part out already.”

“You mean about how the Dungeon is behaving? Yes, so it would seem,” she agreed. “This next part is a little odd, though. It just says, ‘Where the two are one, a path through death.’”

I waited, but she had stopped, still staring at the carving. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” she nodded, absently.

Stymied, I sat back on my heels. “A path though death… What do you think that means?”

“Hopefully, it’s a way through those scarecrows,” she said, wistfully.

“Okay, then we’d need to find where the two are one… What two, though?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, rubbing at her forehead, “Maybe, we could start by looking for some scarecrows that are really close together.”

“That’s possible,” I admitted. “Although… eh… it seems a little blunt. Usually in riddles like this, the answer is contained within the riddle itself. You just have to think about it in the right way.”

“Oh?” she looked at me incredulously. “And what makes you such an expert?”

“I… used to be in a club back home,” I said. “We’d meet at the pub and solve riddles. For fun.” I winced a bit at admitting it. Most people would probably consider it a bit of a dorky sort of thing to be involved in, but I had always found activities like that much more engaging than just staring at a football game for hours.

To my surprise, however, instead of poking fun of me, she closed her eyes and arched her back a bit, but I quickly realized that she was experiencing another pulse. After it passed, she took a breath and looked up at me through half-lidded eyes, “Hmm… I like a man with a good head on his shoulders.” Grinning at my immediate blush, she jabbed me with a finger, “See? Like that!” Then she did giggle a bit. “A riddle club? Oh, that is so you! I love it.”

“Yeah, okay. Yuk it up,” I grumbled, half-pissed off at being flirted with as a lesson and half for allowing myself to get keyed up again.

“Don’t be sour,” she said, taking in my expression. “After all, there is a prize to be won, here. You just have to start flirting back! Take your opportunities! For instance, you could have complemented me on translating this riddle.”

That was something. Encouraged a bit, I said, “Oh, sorry, you’re right. Uh…” I paused, unsure how to proceed, “It was very…”

“Not right now, you mush-head,” she chuckled. “You’ve lost your moment! And use your body. It isn’t just about words.”

I sighed, “I’m sorry, Hess. I’m really not very good at being quippy.” And I had no idea what I was supposed to do with my body. I did not even know what women found attractive in men. “If I have time to think it over, I can come up with something, but…”

“That’s what practice is for. It’s a skill. You’ll get better,” she assured me. Then nodding back at the carving, she said, “So what about this riddle, then?”

“Right,” I said, changing gears. “So my thought is, the line ‘two are one’ might refer to something within the riddle itself.”

“Such as?” she asked, an eyebrow slightly lifted.

“I don’t know that part,” I admitted. “There are several pairings in the riddle. One of those?”

Reading it over again, she said, “There’s the obvious one, dies and lives, but I can’t see what that would mean for us.”

“There’s also night and day, for that matter,” I mused aloud. Absently, I started looking out at the rows of indistinguishable tombstones and something clicked in my head, “A path through death…” Standing, I walked forward a few paces. As far as I could tell, every single one was identical… save for the one that was disturbed from digging me up from the ground. “I’ll bet you anything that there’s something underneath one of these grave markers.”

“Really?” she said from behind me. “You’re sure it’s not just talking about how to get through the scarecrows, like I said?”

“Not at all,” I admitted. “But if you think about it from the angle that there might be a secret passage or something underneath a grave site, then you get a double meaning. Riddles are notorious for that kind of thing.

“Okay…” she said slowly. “What are you proposing? That we dig up each one?” she made a face. “There are many thousands out there.”

Absently, I nodded. She was right. We needed a way to narrow it down. “You’ve looked over some of them already. Are they all the same?”

“Yes,” she nodded once. “Save for the writing.”

My mouth quirked to the side. That was something, anyway. “Are they all in the same language? Save for the one I was in?”

“I don’t think so,” she said, tilting her eyes up to try and remember. “Each stone should bear the tongue of the kind interred within. Or it would if this weren’t the Dungeon. Here, it could be anything.”

I looked back at her, “Do they all have the same alphabet? The different tongues of the kinds, I mean?”

“Of course not!” she laughed, but then she admitted, “Some do, though,” not following my train of thought. “Why?”

“What about the writing on that tree there?” I went on, not answering. “Did you see any graves that used it?”

She looked back at the carving for a moment, musing, “It’s possible. I don’t remember. It’s not a common tongue around here. Their kind live far to the west… of Bradfirth territory, anyway.”

“Let’s take a quick look. If I’m right, then the correct grave marker will use the same alphabet as the riddle. Or… I suppose it wouldn’t have to. But it would make it much more difficult if it doesn’t. It wouldn’t be much of a puzzle if the solution turned out to be a needle in a haystack,” I mused.

 

Once we had gathered Jax and explained what we were looking for, we set to giving the yard a quick once over. It turned out I was correct, a lot of the graves used the alphabet from the tree — at least two to three per row, in fact. Once I realized this, I deflated. I had to figure that the puzzle was not going to be quite so easy as that. Still, it did narrow it down some… assuming that I was at all on the right track. Quickly marking the ones we had found thus far with a small rock, we reconvened back at the tree.

“Alright, there has to be something to narrow it down,” I thought aloud.

“What we be lookin’ at?” Jax asked. “Explain it so I be understanin’. Maybe it’d shake sommat loose fer ya.”

Obligingly, she went over it again for his benefit, and we rehashed our earlier thoughts on the matter.

“So yer sayin’ it be the wrong way o’ writin’ fer the tongue?” Jax asked, a bit confused.

She nodded, “Yes, that’s right.”

“What do it mean in the language it be for, then?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Hess said, looking it over again. “It’s gibberish. Although, now that you mention it, this word here could mean a barrel maker,” she pointed at the last word of the second line. “It means ‘cooper’, if you translate it literally.”

I pursed my lips. Cooper was a pretty common last name on Earth. “Do people often take the names of their profession in that culture?” I asked, gears turning in my head.

“I wouldn’t know,” she admitted. “Though, I’ve heard of certain clanless doing things like that.”

“And…” I hesitated. This was a little too perfect. “You said that the first and second lines should rhyme, right?”

She nodded, “Yes, if you were to pronounce it the way a native would, it would come out as ‘pahsh’ and ‘oonfetash’. But in context, it should be ‘pass’ and ‘unfettered’.”

“Ye have ‘pass unfettered’ right in the riddle, and ye did nay think that may no be significant?” Jax asked incredulously.

We looked at each other. What were the odds that you could get a person’s name out of that phrase and have it be a coincidence?

“Okay, now that you say it out loud,” I admitted.

 

About an hour later, the three of us were standing in front of a grave. It was virtually identical to all of the others in most every respect that I could see and positioned pretty closely to the center of the yard. Funnily enough, it was a mere three markers over from where I had been buried.

“Here lies Pz Nftz. May his steps to the Underworld be clear,” Hess read aloud.

“This be it,” Jax said. “Or I ain’t a lilim true.”

Favoring him with a quick glance and a quirked eyebrow, I bent over to investigate the slab of granite. A fine layer of dirt had accumulated in the carved ridges that formed the lettering. Lightly dusting it away, I discovered a groove cut away around the first letter of ‘Underworld’. That was a button if I had ever seen one.

“Ye find sommat, mate?”

Glancing back at him, I gave a quick nod, “Yeah, looks like some kind of trigger. Step back. I don’t know what will happen when I press this.”

“Let me do it, then,” Jax stepped forward. “If it be a trap…”

I seriously doubted that was the case, but… Deciding caution was the better part of valor, I stepped aside. I gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder as we swapped places and stood next to Hess.

“Is this normal for you two?” she asked.

I nodded, “Yes, he’s the trap finder. I can heal, and if it turns out to be fatal, he’s technically immortal. Sort of.”

She looked at me askance, “You’re pissing in my face.”

Before I could process exactly what that was supposed to mean, there was a rumble beneath our feet. Jax had pressed the button. We scurried back as a depression opened up just in front of the marker. A rectangle, perhaps six feet wide and three times as long, dropped down revealing carved stone just beneath the soil. After sliding down a foot or so, the rectangle split down the middle and the two halves slid away beneath the ground. The revealed opening showed a staircase descending down into darkness.

“Hmm…” Hess said, staring down into the pit as the dust settled. “I don’t suppose either of you can see in the dark?” She grimaced at our shaking heads.

There was a moment of silence as we surveyed that hole, unmoving.

“What about them weapons I made last night?” Jax asked, suddenly.

We all shared a look. Slowly, Sherr Hess’ gaze slid to the side, and we turned as one to see the campsite we had made, now abandoned, in the distance.

And many many scarecrows.

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