I fled the trio of towering horrors before they clobbered me again.

  As the carrion golem unwound the chain behind me, my Rejuvenate had 15 seconds left in its cooldown—an eternity in this battle. Running past my friends, I noticed they still had over a dozen zombies left. Their health bars hovered around 50 percent. I felt another healing pulse as Iris cast another 30-point Rally—and three more zombies dropped. At least they made progress.

  The whooshing sound grew louder, and the chasing troglodytes caught up with me. After Rally, I had 124 health left. I couldn’t engage them or take another whack from that whip, so I doubled back toward the carrion golem. Its chain sliced through the air, and dealing another hit of 55 health—the chasing trogs lost 60.

  As I neared the golem, it wrapped its whip around its arm, and I delivered a couple of hits before I fled, this time before either the weighted arm or the lumbering zombies could reach me. Both trogs’ eyes smoked from Suffusion.

  I threw up my interface to give myself time to think and assess the situation. The chasing troglodytes froze to a slow crawl—their leashes looked like umbilical cords on deep-sea divers.

  Only my Rejuvenate promised succor on the horizon, but the heal-over-time spell wasn’t enough to withstand the incoming damage. Perusing my inventory did little good. Purchasing Rally might help, but stopping for a few seconds to cast it wasn’t possible between the trogs and the boss. I couldn’t risk being Stunned again, so I gave up searching for lifesavers and closed my interface.

  When Rejuvenate’s cooldown reached zero, I cast it on myself. For the next 10 seconds, I would recover 80 health. The swinging coil sliced through the air again, and I mentally prepared myself for another drop in health. I needed time to let Rejuvenate do its work. Focusing on my health made me accidentally run too far, and the golem’s lash delivered 105 damage.

  I fell to near zero health but hadn’t lost hope. The last of the zombie horde had dropped—an orc with scythelike blades attached to its arms.

  Fabulosa and Charitybelle peeled away from the crowd to give me heals. When my allies finished bringing the last zombie down, I received a Rally heal and two Restores.

  “Don’t fight the trogs out here. Go to melee!” I pointed toward the carrion golem.

  The charged-up zombie troglodytes still pursued me, and we ran toward the headless whip-bearer. I prayed my friends wouldn’t engage the Suffused troglodytes.

  They didn’t. They must have watched me and figured out the correct pattern for this dance.

  The whooshing sound built to a crescendo, and the whip tagged Iris and Fletcher for 80 damage. The rest of us stood closer, and we incurred much less damage.

  Iris called out the kill orders. “Trogs first! Target the crispy one!”

  Each troglodyte carried less than a third of its health, and we killed the burning one before the golem spooled the chain around its limb.

  During the melee phase, I received both Rejuvenates and troglodyte attacks. The remaining trog bashed me down to 36 health and Stunned me, but that ended its contribution when my friends finished it. Another Restore healed me as I waited for the Stun to wear off.

  Luckily, I remained the only one with low health. The golem brought its chain-wrapped arm onto Fabulosa for a critical hit of 102 damage. Charitybelle and Fletcher took half as much damage when the club landed.

  Iris raised her voice so everyone could hear. “Fall back!”

  Everyone scattered. My Stun wore off, leaving me the last to escape, and the golem resorted to its familiar tactic of unwinding its chain.

  However, without pursuing zombies, we could double back without taking damage. When the chain unwound halfway, I shouted instructions. “Back to the golem! Now!”

  When the whip fully unfurled, we closed the distance enough to mitigate the whip’s damage. We attacked with impunity until the clumsy golem wrapped the chain around its limb. By the time its club reformed, we sounded the retreat. Without the counterpoint of additional monsters, the pattern of killing the golem became a simple rinse and repeat. We bought it down after several attack cycles.

  We collapsed on the ground and performed a Rest and Mend when the battle ended.

  Charitybelle raised her fists. “Ding-a-ding-ding! I’m level 12!”

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  “And I’m 13. And you, dear?” Fletcher turned to Iris, but she shook her head.

  Although the zombies carried no loot and possessed cracked cores, they acted as experience-pi?atas, advancing us toward our long-term goals.

  I checked my character sheet. “I’m almost level 18.”

  Fabulosa wrinkled her nose. “You too? Rats, I thought I might pass you up. I’m just a few points away myself.”

  As we recuperated, I searched the branches above us for signs of whatever electrified the zombies. My companions’ eyes also scanned the evergreen limbs, but no one spotted anything.

  It reminded me of my younger years when my mom and I stared at the ceilings when the upstairs tenants fought. Back then, we never dared investigate, compounding my anxiety about breaching the canopy.

  Iris broke the silence. “Does everyone have a power point available?”

  We all nodded.

  “Good. Save it, in case you need Featherfall.”

  Since I used Hot Air twice today, I preserved Slipstream as a safety net.

  Even though we knew about the electrified webs, Fabulosa tried climbing one. A clacking sound erupted a few seconds after she tried. She tried jumping off, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the current. She collapsed to the forest floor, Stunned and slightly damaged.

  Iris and Fletcher tested the climb with their leather gloves. While they protected their skin from metal spurs, they offered insufficient insulation from the high-voltage bursts.

  When my Rest and Mend finished, I inspected the webbing myself.

  The colored veins looked like copper, live wires carrying the charge. Multiple feeds, unconnected to one another, ran across grounding metals. The network supported several circuits, making conditions potent for bug-zapping intruders.

  If climbing mesh curtains incurred risks, using the metal tube for a ladder would have been suicidal. I crossed the battlefield and inspected the hollow shaft. The hollow column plunged into a gaping hole in the ground. The tube had no openings in its webbing, so its only access had to be from above.

  Strands as thick as rebar wove up the shaft’s narrow funnel. Since Mineral Communion remained active, I looked into the metal’s memory for scenes to reveal its secrets. The blurry visions produced nothing worth watching. I caught only glimpses of the weaver’s pale legs—it looked like an Alaskan king crab covered with coarse white hair.

  Climbing trees looked safer.

  We studied the heaviest branches overhead to decide our best approach. While evergreens offered easily accessible handholds, only the four colossal oak trees sprouted branches reaching the metal spire. They looked like oaks, but we couldn’t know for certain—for they bore no leaves.

  Iris led the way, finding limbs everyone could climb, eventually charting a route to a tree limb that bridged the central spire of webbing.

  Our increased strength made climbing these giant trees trivial. The spy weavers watched us climb above the canopy without interfering. We grouped up when we reached a branch wide enough to travel across. The limbs served as a reverse maze—instead of walls limiting our movement and sight—the branches crisscrossed, forming bridges. All metal webs pointed to the spire, and as we worked toward the center, we avoided touching metal.

  At fifty feet in the air, patches of sky became visible, providing a reprieve from the darkness.

  Iris and I took the lead when we reached a wide branch angling upward toward the spire’s apex.

  A brown gummy bear the size of a trash can blocked our path. It had no eyes or mouth, and no metal frames held it together. Thatches of thick brown hair protruded from its amber, translucent mass. Upon closer inspection, the hair amounted to patches of dead pine needles sticking to its surface.

  The amorphic blob had no properties, so it wasn’t a creature. Behind it, a tangle of wires extended to a curtain of metal webbing above. My eyes followed the wires to the central spire. The arc weaver’s crow’s nest fell outside the range of spells or missiles.

  A giant white spider awaited with the patience of an ambush predator.

  With only a level 20 boss monster left, we felt like we’d finally reached this maze’s soft, chewy center.

  But first, we needed to get past the gummy bear thing. The blob wouldn’t remain inanimate forever. And when it sprang into action, we’d have to fight it in a single-file formation on the giant tree branch.

  I tapped my cudgel against my shield. “I’ve got the highest health, so I’ll go in front. Can you guys do ranged attacks?”

  Everyone nodded and switched around their gear.

  When we approached the gummy bear, a welding sound echoed from the metal nest, and the amber figure smoldered with wisps of smoke. The clicks continued, and the blob drooped somewhat. Its surface shimmered as if wet.

  I planned to cast Shocking Reach, but after seeing the arc weaver’s treatment, this pudgy figure obviously possessed immunity to electricity. I released a Scorch seconds after Fabulosa launched a Fireball. Both landed and set the figure on fire. The flames revealed the creature’s translucency, reminding me of a bear-shaped honey bottle.

  As I watched it burn, I spotted a pine cone sticking out of its side. What was this thing?

  More Scorches landed, but it stopped catching on fire after the pine needles sticking to its skin burned away. Wisps of smoke haloed the golem like blown-out birthday candles.

  The thing bent its featureless face in our direction.

  Legs extruded from the amber mass, and it slowly ambled toward us. As it moved forward, its bulbous, droopy feet adhered to the tree limb—peeling off flecks of bark as it walked. With the creature sticking to the branch, I doubted we could knock it out of the trees.