26

The cavern began filling with battos, scurrying in from deeper within the nest, arriving at the behest of their keening queen.

“We’re fucked,” Elgava said. She immediately began pulling off the two pistols she carried, setting them on the ground before her and then setting out the crossbow bolts alongside them. She paused and looked at everyone else. “Well, get ready. If we die, we die fighting.”

“I’d rather not die,” San said. He peered throughout the large cavern. The battos hadn’t noticed them yet and from what he could tell none were coming up from behind them. The tunnel they had followed to this place was fairly direct, if they had hidden tunnels or if there were battos they had bypassed, then they would be showing up soon.

His focus was on the battos before them. Three hundred feet lay between the two groups, the battos milled around their queen but hadn’t been ordered to do anything. San looked around the cavern, seeing if they could use any of it to their advantage.

“There,” the Mage Lieutenant whispered. San followed his pointing finger. Fifty feet from their position was a pile fo what looked like boards and planks. It was a pile of trash and debris that the battos had haphazardly left in one place. San peered through the semi-darkness and saw that it wasn’t the only pile of trash within the cavern. Where had all this stuff come from?

“It’s treasure,” Elgava said. San saw what she meant. Among the wooden boards and planks, there gleamed old and rusted suits of armor, weapons, and other things that soldiers, warriors, and Adventurers had once carried. He saw a wagon wheel among the debris.

“They’ve been collecting the stuff people leave behind,” the Mage Lieutenant said.

“Aye,” Bostarion said. “Sometimes there are good stuff in the batto hoards, but not much. Just a few coins and items they’ve collected.”

“Why?” San asked. “They’re just bringing trash into their nest.”

The ranger shrugged. “They’re void monsters, who knows why they do anything.”

“I can make a fire,” San said. “I can light that pile up and it will hold back most of the horde.”

“Aye, it’ll be a real bitch to get there,” Bostarion said. San nodded, seeing that the path between them and the pile of trash was a twisted one, blocks of what appeared to be bricks lay scattered in large piles across the cavern floor. There were also resinous growths, that held up the bioluminescent fungi, spread everywhere.

“This isn’t a cave,” San said.

“Eh?” Elgava asked.

San scooted toward the edge of the entrance they huddled in and scrapped away some of the resin covering the walls. Underneath lay brickwork. It was pitted and old, the mortar crumbling, but it was manmade. He peered back into the cave and saw what he had glossed over before. The piles of bricks weren’t just random piles, they had once been pillars or arches to support the vast roof above them.

“Oh, great,” Elgava muttered. “We’re in some old Kingdom ruins. Bad enough there’s battos, there’s probably Hanged King shades wandering about too.”

A sense of unease filled him as he looked up toward the roof of the cavern. There was only darkness in those upper reaches, the light too dim to reach and the fungi not growing in vast patches. Anything could be lurking up there and the battos could fly.

“The moment we make a move for the trash pile, they’ll be on us,” Bostarion said.

“Ah, Hetvana’s hell,” Elgava hissed. “I just set up all my stuff.” She began rehooking her pistols and crossbow bolts back to her pack.

“Ready?” Bostarion asked.

“How many of the pipe bombs do you have?” San asked the Mage Lieutenant.

“Nine,” he responded.

“Give me four,” San said. The Mage hesitated for a moment and then dug into his pack, handing San four of the canisters.

San removed his paracord from his pack and tightly bound the four bombs together. He then attached a four foot length of cord to it.

“What are you doing?” the Mage asked.

“Hammer throw,” San smiled. “My cousin used to love the sport. He tried getting me into it when we were younger, but I never really had the coordination.”

He was different now, San thought. The power of the gems had made him sure footed and his aim unerringly good. He checked the weight of the four bombs and figured they were about twenty pounds total. He could do it. If they got to the pile of wood, that would cut the distance between them and the queen by fifty or more feet. He could make that kind of throw… hopefully.

San pulled out a torch from his pack. He took a deep breath and looked at everyone.

“Let’s move,” San said. He cracked his neck and then jumped down into the darkness below them. The others followed suit. There was no way to move silently, as their armor clanked, the weapons and tools they carried hit metal, and their packs heavy with supplies.

The battos heard the noise and began hissing, this time the queen’s eye stalks snapped right at them. They were massive watery things that seemed to glow in the dark like the fungi. The queen let out a screech and the workers and warriors moved as one, bounding across the littered landscape with ease and agility.

The pile of discarded wood and planks was only twenty feet before them when San ignited the torch. The oil soaked rags and twigs burst into flames and the others had their weapons ready. San skidded to a stop before the pile of material and from his pocket pulled out a plastic bag full of gunpowder. He dumped the powder upon the aged wood and tossed the torch after.

The gunpowder ignited with a loud hiss and a flash of light and smoke. Flames roared as the dried wood and tinder caught fight. San raised his hands, shielding his face from the sudden heat and light.

“Fire in the Night!” he shouted.

The fire roared once again, turning blue for a moment before returning to its normal color. The battos began screeching, their headlong charge unable to stop as they neared their position.

“Fuck!” San shouted and threw himself back from the fire. The first batto rammed into the pile of wood and debris, the fire hissing and crackled and the batto screamed in agony. Then another hit and another and another.

“The fire!” the Mage cried and then turned to fire his crossbow into a batto that had swerved around the the blaze.

Half a dozen battos burned and screamed on the fire, their black bodies twisting and smothering the wood that had yet to fully ignite. San cursed and pulled another bag of gunpowder from his pack. He threw the plastic ziplock bag at the flames, cursing again as he saw that it was an entire gallon bag.

The fire didn’t explode, but it bloomed and soared, drenching the cavern in bright yellow light and scorching every bit of hair on San’s face. He staggered back, coughing as the screams of battos sang as a choir of agony. His eyes cleared and he saw the battos scattering, many on fire and spreading those flames across the cavern.

The roar of pistols filled the air, not all the battos were running. The workers were, but the warriors were steadfast in their determination to kill the invaders.

Elgava was cursing, smashing her shield into a monster’s side while stabbing with her short sword. San pulled out a pistol and rushed into the fight. He fired pointblank into the body of a batto and kicked it away, the expended pistol he dropped and the pulled another.

There was a buzzing noise and San ducked this head just as a flying batto screeched by overhead. He heard a crash as the divebombing batto slammed heavily into the cavern floor. Another battos came at him and he fired the pistol. It roared in his hands and the batto slid by, red ichor pumping from the deadly wound.

The Mage Lieutenant ignited a grenade and threw it into the mass of battos swarming around the fire. The grenade detonated, killing a few and pushing the horde back for a moment.

San unhooked his last two pistols and shoved them into Elgava’s hand. She nodded and stood by him as he pulled his bundle of bombs out. There was another screech and San looked beyond the flames to see the queen was rising to her feet.

The Guardian that had attacked them had been twenty feet tall and nearly as wide. The queen, San realized, was nearly thirty and nearly just as wide. Suddenly the bundle of four grenades didn’t seem all that much.

“She’s coming!” Bostarion yelled, he loped off a tail and stabbed repeatedly into a batto.

“How long are these fuses?” San asked.

“About four seconds,” the Mage called back. He threw another grenade at a swarm of warriors. The creatures cried out and scurried back, leaving several of their injured behind.

The queen roared as she began stomping in their direction.

San shrugged and sparked his lighter against the fuse of the bombs. The fuse hissed and sputtered and San immediately began swinging the entire bundle around him. Hammer throwing was an Olympic sport. One that San had seen plenty of times and at his cousin’s encouragement tried a few times himself. It required strength, balance, situational awareness, and technique.

The queen was charging in a direct line at them. There were some debris scattered about, but she towered over all of them. San had to release at the right time and at the right angle, and with enough speed to cross the two hundred feet that separated them.

Half praying and half by just feel, San released the bundle of bombs. It shot out into the darkness, heading straight toward the queen. He grinned until and long tail whipped out and slapped the sparking bundle away. The grenades were knocked off course, the canisters detonating in the air.

Hot metal shards scattered and pinged off the walls and the battos. More cries of pain were sounded and the monsters swirled around their queen, pulling back for a moment. The thunderous roar of the detonating canisters filled the room and shook fine dust from the ceiling above them.

“Fuck!” San cried.

There was another rumble, one that they all felt. The ground beneath them shuddered slightly and more dust shifted down from above. San looked up toward the ceiling and saw a lone brick drop down and hit the floor about twenty feet away.

“Give me a catalyst rock,” San said.

The Mage looked at San and then toward the ceiling. “No,” he said.

“Give it to me.”

“No, you’ll kill us all,” the Mage snapped.

“Elgava, get that shield you can create ready,” San said.

“Aw, fuck, San,” the woman cried, seeing where they were looking. “I don’t think I can hold that all back.”

“Better do something fast,” Bostarion shouted, firing off his crossbow at the battos.

“Shit,” the Mage said and tossed San a fist sized crystal rock.

The fire kept most of the battos away, but with the queen marching into battle, the workers had returned and were embolden by the presence of their leader. San looked toward the queen, she was eating up a lot of ground and her horde surrounded her.

“Get ready to run,” San said.

He got back into his pitcher’s pose and then flung the rock into the cavern ceiling. He didn’t pause to see it hit or watch the catalyst rock explode, instead he turned and raced after the others.

A loud boom resounded through the cavern almost as loud as the four bombs that had gone off. But the noise didn’t end there, instead there was a sudden groan and what sounded like a series of rapid explosions.

The group threw themselves behind a pile of bricks and San barreled into them.

“Barrier!” Elgava shouted as the roof above them collapsed.

***

San groaned and opened his eyes. He coughed raggedly at the dust that filled the air. He heard moans of pain around him and puled himself into a sitting position. He saw Bostarion open his eyes and then spit out blood and dirt from his mouth.

“Fuck,” Elgava groaned, shifting beside San. She looked at him, her helmet askew and the the fabric of her brigandine white with dust. “Are we dead?”

“It smells like we are,” the Mage said. San looked at him and then laughed. The Mage looked confused and then grinned also.

Bostarion and Elgava gave a weary chuckle at the joke. “Looks like its still daylight,” Elgava remarked.

San blinked and realized he could see, not from the bioluminescent fungi, but with real light. He looked into the cavern and saw a great beam of sunlight filtering down into the cavern. He also noted the air was getting colder too.

He got to his feet, helping the others to theirs too. The cavern was still shrouded in darkness and dust, but nothing else moved or skittered about.

“That Tribal,” Elgava said.

San silently cursed himself as he had forgotten about the man who had been tired to the wall. He wondered if he had survived or not. San began making his way across the rubble, thick slabs of rock, brick, and old rotten beams now lay scattered across the floor. He noted that all the eggs that had been within the chamber seemed to have been crushed and with the cold air and sprinkles of snow entering the cavern, they wouldn’t be able to incubate.

“This nest is dead,” Bostarion said. “They need it warm to keep their young alive, with a hole that big, they’re fucked.” The ranger gave San a grin.

“It’s not over until we get the queen’s head,” the Mage said. “Both queens.”

Bostarion nodded and they treked across the broken landscape.

“Fuck, you’re a tough one,” Elgava announced. She stood looking up at the Tribal who had been bound to the walls. The man cracked open redden eye and stared at them, dust and blood covered his half naked body.

“Blessed Mother,” he said.

“Must be mad to think I’m their goddess,” Elgava cracked and grinned.

“You speak Tribal?” San asked.

“Aye, good to know your enemy’s lingo. Plus makes it better when you can curse at them fluently.”

“Help me get him down,” San said. He pulled himself up onto a rock and began ripping the resin away. Elgava joined him, using a dagger to chip and cut away the resin.

Bostarion and the Mage eased their way toward the last known location of the queen. They had their crossbows and pistols reloaded and barely moved across the broken brick. The sunlight was weak, but it bathed them in a white glow, dusting them with blown in snow.

They freed the man and set him down upon the ground. He groaned at their rough handling, but didn’t complain otherwise.

“Poison’s still got him,” Elgava said. “Should be up soon, if he was already struggling to free himself.”

San nodded, remembering Endaha and Cassa’s own experience with the batto poison. San took off his pack and pulled out his blanket. He also pulled the nipple of his water bladder and held it up to the man’s mouth. The man eagerly began sucking, pulling in the water. He drank his fill; then suddenly opened his eyes and began gasping.

“Blessed mother!” he screamed, sitting up right.

“Easy there,” San said.

The man looked at him with wide eyes, finally focusing on his face. He blinked and then looked around.

“Am I dead?”

“I should hope not,” Elgava said. “Though I’d not be surprised to see the talking dead in a place like this.”

“You’re alive, friend. What’s your name?” San asked.

“Pivane,” the man said. He groaned and lay back down. “Water please.”

San gave him more water and the man greedily drank it. He lay there for a long while, his eyes opened and unfocused.

“My cousin and I were hunting the void monsters. We were fools, to think we could gain levels so easily. The battos, they caught us… my cousin… is he alive?”

“There is no one else living here,” San said. “We are in the battos caverns, we have killed the queen… I think.”

“She’s dead,” the Mage said. He lifted up a fleshy sack. “Baron’s gems.”

San nodded. “No bonus for those who killed it?” he asked.

“Up to the Baron,” the Mage replied. He looked to Elgava. “It could be said that there was payment already made. After all she leveled.”

“Those were San’s gems,” Elgava said, eyes narrowing.

The Mage shrugged. “Not my call on how to divide the gems.”

“Those are white gems, four of them from the queen. She was an old one, that queen. The newborn only had a red in her,” Bostarion said.

“A gem for everyone,” Elgava stated.

“I’m too damn old,” Bostarion said.

“Mage’s don’t level,”the Mage said.

San looked up in surprise. “You don’t level?”

The Mage looked at San with annoyance. “Yes, we don’t level. We naturally can warp and use mana, but we aren’t changed by it like those that consume a gem,” he said. “If we consume a gem we can die from it. We can gain great power, but we’ll never be as fast or as strong as a Leveled.”

“I didn’t know that,” San said.

“Rocks for brains, I tell ya,” Elgava said. “Means two gems for San and me.”

“Hetvan’s cunt, girl,” Bostarion said. “You get your first damn Level less than a day and you’re already demanding another?” The ranger scoffed. “Level too fast and you’ll end up killing yourself.”

“It’s called Leveling Sickness,” the Mage answered before San could ask. “Level too fast, it causes too many changes within you. You get sick and the mana burns you up from the inside. Leaves you a desiccated husk.”

“Oh,” San said.

“I’ll take one,” the man on the ground spoke.

“He lives?” Bostarion asked, looking down at the Tribal.

“Aye,” Elgava got to her feet, grunting with the weight of her armor and pack. “Now,” she said looking up at the patch of sky above them, “let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Can’t” Bostarion said. “All the tunnels collapsed.”

Elgava sighed and then sat back down. “Wake me when you find a way out of here,” she said, then promptly fell asleep.