Day Five. Mid-Morning.

Turning back towards the spider, I cast charm. It was the only thing I could think of trying. It was that—or flee.

Strands of energy extended from me to the creature, and where my blades had failed in their attacks, my mind spell did not. Finding purchase in the creature’s consciousness, psi leashed it to my will.

A giant stygian spider has failed a mental resistance check! You have charmed your target for 10 seconds.

A few yards away from me, the spider froze mid-motion. A triumphant smile lit my face.

Bloody hell, it worked!

“What did you do!” the elf gasped, sensing the sudden change in her summoned pet’s demeanor.

I grinned at her. “You’re about to find out,” I said, ordering the creature to advance on its former master.

Worca’s eyes widened as the spider reversed course to dance across the floor towards her. Making use of the momentary lull in the battle, I extracted one of my healing potions and downed its contents.

You have restored 10% of your lost health with a minor healing potion. Your health is now at 100%.

Healing waves of energy pulsed through my body, restoring the flesh in my left arm and mending the bruises on my back. Straightening, I flexed my left hand. The weakness in it from the spider’s attack had dissipated.

My minion, meanwhile, had completed its advance and hovered just outside the ebony bubble protecting the mage.

Let’s see if this works, I thought and ordered the spider to attack.

My charmed pet passed as easily through the magical shield as it had through my own blades. My grin began to widen. It’s work—

An instant before the spider’s limbs could make contact with its former master, a Game message opened in my mind.

You have taken hostile action against your minion! Control of target lost.

Huh?

My brows furrowed, struggling to make sense of the perplexing development. The Game had interpreted the spider’s attempted attack against Worca as a hostile action against the creature itself. Why had it done that?

It can only be because summoned creature and summoner are inextricably linked. Kill the summoner, kill the pet?

It was the only thing that made sense.

Freed of my compulsion, the spider had turned about and was advancing on me again.

Worca was sputtering, convulsing with laughter, if of the somewhat hysterical kind. “I knew it,” the elf whispered, her eyes shining. “I knew that wouldn’t work!”

I didn’t believe her. Her manner reeked of relief.

Nor was I despondent. After my initial dismay at the spider’s failure, I’d realized something else. Even if I could not force the creature to harm its summoner, I could, at the very least, draw out the encounter into a stalemate.

Ignoring the mage’s outburst, I focused my attention on the approaching spider again and recast charm.

You have charmed your target for 10 seconds.

This time, I didn’t bother sending my minion to attack the elf. Ordering the creature to the furthest end of the room, I turned my gaze downwards and studied the glistening web.

On closer inspection, I realized my earlier observation had been mistaken. As dense as the black silk was, it did not cover every inch of the floor. There were random spots of emptiness, some no more than an inch across, others as much as a foot wide.

If I’m careful, I can reach the mage.

It would take time, though, and concentration. But it could be done. Mapping a route out in my mind, I set to it.

Gauging the distance carefully, I leaped off the edge of the table and landed lightly on one foot in the first safe spot I’d marked out. My hands flew out, breaking my forward motion.

For an instant, I swayed precariously, then regained my balance. Phew. Still on one foot, I eyed the next spot—about two feet to my right. Casting one-step, I walked on air to touch down squarely on my target destination.

A look of sheer panic fluttered across Worca’s face. Pushing off the wall, she raised a wand in a visibly trembling hand and directed it my way.

The sight heartened me. For one, the caster did not attempt fleeing, and for another, she aimed only a single wand my way. It led me to hope her mana was nearly spent.

A bar of blackness burst out of Worca’s wand and in my direction. I was prepared for the attack. Remaining stock-still until the last instant, I dropped down. The elf had targeted my chest, aiming high enough for me to duck beneath the magical projectile.

You have evaded Worca’s magical attack.

I uncoiled slowly, careful not to move my feet so much as an inch while doing so.

Worca stared at me, mouth agape.

Staying in place, I threw the elf a feigned smile while I checked the remaining time on my charm spell. There were a few seconds left on it yet. I waited patiently.

Worca’s gaze slid past me to the spider, which was standing idle at the far end of the room. Raising a shaky hand, the mage pointed her wand at me again.

I stood my ground, waiting.

Perhaps recognizing her chances of hitting me with a magic projectile was poor, the elf didn’t cast. “What do you want?” she demanded harshly.

“Tell me where the shield generator is,” I said evenly. “And I may just let you live.”

While we spoke, I reached out to the spider with mindsight—my back was to the creature—and began recasting charm. The spell about it was about to expire.

I was not sure if Worca was simply playing for time—perhaps she thought re-charming the spider would distract me long enough for her to get a shot in—but if she was, she was about to be sorely disappointed.

“I can’t tell you that,” she replied bitterly, still keeping her wand trained on me. “Nothing you can do to me will be as bad as what the goddess will do if I betray her.”

You have lost control over a giant stygian spider.

Watching Worca carefully, I saw her lips twitch upwards in a half-smile before she regained control of her expression. The mage had sensed the exact moment I lost control over my minion. And was waiting for her moment.

Without taking my eyes off Worca for an instant, I slipped a new leash about the spider’s mind.

You have charmed your target for 10 seconds.

The expression of disappointment that flashed across the elf’s face was almost comical. A second later, she sighed in resignation and released the spelled attack she held ready.

This time, she’d aimed low.

I sprang upwards, flipped over in the air, and a heartbeat later, landed in the exact same spot.

You have evaded Worca’s magical attack.

The elf did not react to her miss. She’d realized her chances of hitting me were slim. With another smile at her, I resumed my slow, torturous path through the maze at my feet and towards my target.

~~~

With carefully-timed leaps, steps, and lunges, I closed the distance between me and my foe, cutting a jagged path across the web. Worca, recognizing she could not stop my advance, had long since stopped trying.

Instead, hands at her sides, she waited.

A little later, I stood before the mage and, without pause, slashed down on the protective bubble encasing her.

Your target’s shield has blocked your attacks, absorbing their damage.

“You will not get through,” Worca jeered weakly.

She had not raised her wands again, I noted. Was her mana entirely spent? I suspected so.

“I will,” I said with a mocking grin of my own. “It’s only a matter of time.”

I struck at her again, this time empowering both my attacks with piercing strikes.

Your target’s shield has blocked your attacks, absorbing their damage.

Was it my imagination, or had the luminescent glow about the mage’s shield dulled a touch at my last two blows?

I hit it again with twin piercing strikes.

This time, the change in the shield’s intensity was unmistakable.

I smiled grimly. My attacks were having an effect, and no matter how long it took, I would break through.

~~~

Worca’s stygian shield has been destroyed!

The bubble of magic protecting Worca collapsed quicker than I’d expected.

Still, it had taken me a few minutes to break through, during which time I had to recast charm multiple times and avoid the occasional feeble attack from my trapped foe.

But at last, our standoff was at an end.

My left hand snaked out to wrap around the elf’s throat and yank her up while the blade in my right flashed forward to stop an inch from her wide-open eyes.

“Last chance,” I growled. “Tell me where the shield generator is.”

“No,” the elf replied stubbornly.

I gnashed my teeth in frustration. I could sense not an iota of fear in the mage at her impending death.

She is more afraid of Ishita than of death. I’m not going to find out what I need to know this way.

“Then die,” I said, “and tell your fellows I’m coming for them too.”

Not waiting for her response, I drove the tip of my shortsword forward, killing her instantly.

You have killed Worca with a fatal blow. You have slain a sworn servant of Ishita, increasing her ire towards you!

The moment the mage died, the charmed spider vanished, as did the stygian webs.

I barely noticed as I sank down onto the floor.

Despite my display of false bravado for Worca’s benefit, I knew I was in trouble. I’d been banking on discovering the location of the shield generator from the mages, but with them now forewarned of my intentions, the chance of me catching any of them exposed and vulnerable was slim to non-existent.

Damn it all to hell! What did I do now?