“Maybe I should stay behind,” Virgil suggested. “I’m no good in a fight, you know, I’ll only get in the way.”

  Desiree kicked at his foot, and he dodged away.

  “You’re coming,” Inara growled. “If you aren’t with us for the fight, you won’t continue to the next floor with us.”

  “Right, right. Of course. I knew that.” The scholar wrung his hands. “I suppose I’ll follow along, then.”

  James swung open the wooden door and stepped through. He half expected ominous music to play or to be ambushed as soon as he entered the room, but neither happened.

  The room was spacious, and one wall was partially open to allow an overview of the whole prison. From here, the warden could keep an eye on all his prisoners and had likely been watching them, awaiting their approach.

  The space itself was filled with various torture devices. An iron maiden, a breaking wheel, a boot, just to name a few. There were several that James didn’t know the name of, but he recoiled nonetheless at the bloody spikes. Manacles of every size dangled from the walls on long chains.

  The Warden stood in the center of it all. His arms, each as big as James’s thigh, were crossed across his chest. There was a diagonal stripe across his body from his right shoulder to his left foot, where his skin matched that of a magma demon, all stone and cracks of lava. It melted seamlessly into his skin.

  The Warden watched the party enter with an appraising glint in his eye that was all too human. When Virgil entered, the Warden beamed and spread his hands out like he was welcoming friends.

  “Ahh, it is good of you to return my prisoner to me!” the Warden said to James. “I was concerned when I heard of his escape, but I should have known he would not survive long on his own.”

  James tightened his grip on his sword. “Not quite,” he said. “Virgil’s with us, now. You’re not getting him back.”

  The Warden’s benevolent gaze switched instantly to fury. The magma in his skin glowed an angry red. “Is that so? Then I will simply have to take him from you. Guards!”

  Two Magma Demons flanked the Warden and cracked their knuckles.

  You have entered combat!

  Inara darted into the fray. Her scythe glowed white, and she sliced easily through the legs of the fiery creatures. She ran so quickly that even their auras did not have time to hurt her.

  James didn’t think; he acted. “Fireball! Fireball!” Both fireballs splashed harmlessly against the cracked, luminous skin of the magma demons.

  Not very effective!

  “Ah, stupid!” He winced at the blunder, which was painfully obvious in hindsight. Even stupider, he hadn’t thought to get Desiree to enchant his sword before they entered the fight.

  He held his sword out towards her, hoping she would get the message.

  Desiree ignored his outstretched arm. Her stave glowed with holy power as she rushed forward to repeat her mother’s attack. She swung once, smacking the first magma demon in its side.

  Critical hit!

  Defeated lvl 14 Magma Demon!

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  The hit stole her momentum, and she careened a stop in front of the second demon. She swung with all her might, slamming the head of her stave straight into its face.

  Critical hit!

  The hit, while powerful, did not have the same force behind it as her first, and the demon was left standing. Worse, her turn was over, and she was stuck within its heated aura. Her health bar ticked downward.

  The next five seconds seemed an interminable wait as Virgil did absolutely nothing with his turn.

  Enemy turn!

  The one remaining magma demon took a swing at Desiree. Its fist bounced off a white force-field, and the young girl’s eyes glittered with triumph.

  James was going to have to ask her about that.

  Inara wasted no time at all finishing the demon off. One slice of her blade was enough to bring it to its knees, and the oppressive heat faded into nothing.

  The Warden growled. He was furious at the loss of two of his guards, more furious still by the flagrant disregard for his prison and all that it stood for.

  “Do you know what this prison is?” he spat. “Of course you don’t. Your kind traipse in and out of realms too quickly to understand the destruction you leave in your wake. You ought to be grateful for what we do here. You ought to keep him—” He pointed at Virgil. “—every damned instance of him— locked up. He is the destroyer of your world and mine.”

  Every eye turned to Virgil, who did his best to look meek and invisible.

  “What do you mean by that?” James asked. “Who is he?”

  “No one yet,” the Warden snarled. “But give him half a chance, and he’ll break open the barrier between our worlds.”

  “Isn’t that what you demons want?” Desiree asked. “To come into our world?”

  “Of course. Grimora is superior to the Infernal Depths. It is more hospitable by far. But not his way,” the Warden sneered. “He will trick demons into servitude. He will make slaves of my people!”

  “Silence!” Virgil cried. He looked frightened and close to tears.

  James immediately felt sorry for the man. He was certainly no destroyer of worlds. The dungeon likely needed someone — anyone, really — to fulfill the role, so the floor boss would have someone to pin his monologue on.

  “It’s okay,” he tried to say, but no sound emerged. He could feel his voice in his throat, but nothing reached his ears. Whoa. That was one hell of a spell. Probably great for libraries, terribly inconvenient for boss fights.

  You have entered combat!

  A problem for later. The more immediate problem of course being, the infuriated Warden.

  For the first time, James found himself immensely grateful for the turn-based nature of combat in Grimora. In any other scenario, not being able to hear his enemy’s movements would be a huge disadvantage. Unnerving as it was not to be able to hear himself, it at least wasn’t a tactical issue.

  As always, Inara went first. Her glowing scythe swept through the air. Her every muscle flowed into the motion like she had done it a thousand times before and would do it a thousand times again.

  In every other fight, Inara’s blade cut cleanly through her enemies. It was unfathomably sharp and seemed to slice through without any resistance. Nothing could stand up to her blade.

  Except, apparently, the Warden. Her blade stopped against his armor and bounced straight off. The impact jolted her so hard she went stumbling back.

  Desiree followed suit. She wielded her holy stave against the infernal warden, only to have the same result. Her attack bounced right off him, and she dealt zero damage.

  James thought furiously. It would be idiotic to keep trying the same thing over and over again, and he knew that there was little chance his sword would somehow succeed where Inara and Desiree had failed.

  He would have to try something else.

  He looked around the room, searching for something else they could use. If their weapons wouldn’t work on the man, perhaps his own would.

  A huge axe was half-buried in the wall not far from him. As soon as his turn began, James rushed toward it and yanked it away from the wall. On the second tug, it pulled free.

  He nearly fell over. The damn thing was heavy! It was made of pitch-black metal and the dark wooden handle was carved with screaming faces.

  Bloodhound Axe

  Once this axe has tasted blood, it will not stop until its foe is dead.

  James ran at the Warden and swung, holding the thing with both hands and letting gravity do most of the work.

  Direct hit!

  The axe dug into the Warden’s side just far enough for blood to seep out. It wasn’t much damage, but it was better than nothing.

  The Bloodhound Axe thirsts for more. +1 Infernal Affinity

  Well that… wasn’t ominous at all.

  James was left standing closest to the Warden. For the next five seconds he found himself hoping — damn near praying — that Virgil would pull some crazy librarian spell out of his ass, something that actually helped in some way.

  But he didn’t. The man huddled tightly into a corner and waited for all of it, one way or another, to finally be over.