Sevvir left her post by the door and trotted back to where Callan sat cross-legged by the fire. He saw her approach as a rapidly growing mass of gray conduits. His Wurmchain lay across his lap, touching him just enough it didn’t dissipate.

  “No change?”

  The mjolk girl was silent. She must have shaken her head, then realized he couldn’t see, because a moment later she added, “Nothing I can tell. If your quarry is past that mess in there, they haven’t given any sign.”

  “Any chance we might be able to simply sneak through?” he asked.

  “Well, that’s a good question. It’ll depend on if these monsters are the same as the others I’ve encountered. Usually they attack on sight, but they also aren’t usually up and walking around like this.”

  Monsters, Xeph said with a harumph. Simple godly summonings, more likely. Though admittedly I’ve never seen any of this particular variety before. Still, they must be related to Veritas’s powers somehow.

  Callan didn’t respond. His Wurmchain chose that moment to wink out of existence as its timer expired. That was fine with him. He wasn’t as proficient with his new skills as he’d like, but he also didn’t think they could delay their attack much longer, not without retreating back to the cave-in, carving a path to freedom, and seeking supplies. He had worked through what little Sevvir had brought with his as it was.

  Speaking of which. Opening his eyes, he picked up the nutritional bar the mjolk had given him and finished it off in two bites. Satisfied, he pulled up his stats.

  Alright, his apotheosis was finally back down to almost zero. It’d be there by the time he needed to use anything. He still had Mountainform active, so that would save him a bit.

  And he had a feeling he’d need every drop for this fight.

  Climbing to his feet, he and Sevvir made their way back to the door. He did a quick headcount—orbcount?—of the monsters inside. Unfortunately, he lost track around sixty, which meant there were maybe even more.

  At least he didn’t see any hiding on the ceiling. That was something.

  He turned to look at Sevvir. “Plan A: we’ll try to just sneak past. If we don’t engage, we might be able to make it through without a fight.”

  “Unlikely, but alright. And when that plan fails?”

  “If that plan fails, then Plan B: we carve a path through and hope they don’t follow us through to the next room.”

  Sevvir pursed her lips. “You certain? We might find ourselves smashed between those monsters and this other avatar of yours if we do.”

  “True, but if we get in a protracted fight, then Ulfa will definitely know we’re coming. She might even join the fight, or use the opportunity to flee. I’d rather try to get what advantage from this situation that I can.” Plus, if they didn’t have to fight all those orbs, then it was worth the chance. Callan wanted to preserve as much strength and apotheosis as he could.

  “Can I propose an alternative?” Sevvir said. “We push into the room. When the monsters start to attack, you continue on while I draw them to myself. Once I’m done finishing them off, I come join you in the next room. Not like I’ll be of much use with fighting your avatar.”

  Callan considered it. The mjolk girl did appear to be more than capable of handling herself in a fight against the orbs. Leaving her behind would simplify matters.

  But he doubted it was as simple a solution as it sounded. “Would I need to sign another contract?”

  “Just a small one. I could—”

  He held up a hand. “No, that’s okay. Let’s just stick with the original plans. If we have to fight, we have to fight.”

  “That’s—Very well.” Sevvir’s expression made it clear she wanted to argue, but she dropped the matter, for which he was grateful. Her obsession with contracts was weird, but at least it didn’t seem dangerously so. He turned back to the room and studied it one last time. Closing his eyes, he exhaled and summoned Wurmchain.

  It dropped to the floor, about eight feet in length. That was a little more than half its maximum, but he’d found it to be about optimum for regular attacks. Any more and it took too much time to get the dang thing moving.

  He still couldn’t adjust the length without closing his eyes, which was probably a bad idea to make a habit of during an actual battle. Still, he was confident enough in his newfound ability that he thought he might be able to get the drop on Veritas. Once the element of surprise was lost, he’d just have to make the best of it.

  He shortened the weapon slightly now, just as a final check. Even through the confusing tangle of the mists, he saw the change.

  Hmmph, Xeph said, shifting about in his mind. When Callan didn’t respond, he harumphed again. Callan sighed.

  “What’s got your panties in a twist now?”

  That’s—what a strange turn of phrase! I dare not even begin to delve into your mind to parse its meaning.

  Callan drew in a breath and tried again. “Something bothering you, Xeph? Better spit it out now.”

  There was another moment of grumbling. I do not approve of this ‘method’ the mjolk has taught you for accessing Wurmchain’s hidden functions. It cheapens the gifts I granted you. There are bound to be hidden consequences.

  It took all of Callan’s effort not to roll his eyes. “Okay, bud, whatever you say.”

  Human! I feel like you are not giving my concerns the weight they deserve.

  “Yeah, well maybe I’m not. Forgive me if I’m finding it a little hard right now to care.”

  You— The god paused. Wait, are you angry? You are! Why?

  “Gee, I wonder.” Callan opened his eyes. He looped Wurmchain together so it wouldn’t drag on the floor. “Maybe because someone made me practice for weeks to little or no gain, but I get one lesson during our eleventh-hour preparation here, and suddenly I’m able to do what I’ve been grinding my teeth to dust over with basically no effort. Might be that. Dunno.”

  I... I did not consider from that angle, Xeph said after several seconds of silence.

  “Look, I’m not blaming you, Xeph. You were working with millennia-old knowledge, and you did the best you could. It’s just... we’ve had a real breakthrough here, you know? And that’s something we really need at the moment. So maybe instead of grumbling over it, you could... I don’t know, be a little more supportive? Just a thought.”

  My methods always worked for avatars in the past, the god said, their voice unusually quiet. But... you are right. I’m sorry that my lack of skill has held you back.

  “Again, I’m not blaming you. If I had months and years to develop these powers, I probably wouldn’t even care. But I don’t. After Veritas, we’ll have Zavastu breathing down our necks. If I don’t gather enough strength before then...” He left the rest unsaid.

  Very well. Going forward I will offer what insight I can, but if you need to seek out more modern teachers to better master my arts, I will not oppose you.

  “Thank you, Xeph.”

  Sevvir watched Callan, an amused expression on her face. “You two about done here?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” Callan started for the door, then turned back. “Hey, Sevvir. You taught me this new breathing technique, but what about your actual caster abilities? Any chance I could ever learn those?”

  But why? Xeph muttered, though he refrained from further comment.

  “Hmm. Maybe.” The girl grinned at Callan. “It would definitely require signing a longer contract, though.”

  Well, that was expected at least. Callan nodded. “Ask me after the battle, and we’ll see what we can work out.”

  “Really?” The mjolk’s tail started swishing back and forth excitedly.

  “Sure. Now, who’s going first into there?”

  “Better let me. My fire can burn us a path if need be.”

  With that, Sevvir stepped through the doorway and into the ancient battlefield. Callan followed on her heels.

  He’d been hoping they’d make it at least halfway through the room before getting noticed, or at least past the first line of defenses. But no sooner were they both in the room than every orb monster froze in place and turned their singular eye towards them.

  So much for an element of surprise, Xeph noted dryly.

  “We always knew that plan was paper thin.” Callan raised his fists, letting Wurmchain unfurl. “Remember, we just need to get to the doorway on the other side—”

  The nearest orb creatures waved their front legs at Callan and immediately backed away. Others scurried forward, and in seconds the monsters had fallen into two rough lines, stretching all the way from one doorway to the next.

  Callan stood there beside Sevvir, studying the now-frozen orbs. Their eyes all tracked him, but otherwise they didn’t move.

  “Huh. Wasn’t expecting that.”

  They formed a pathway for us. Like we’re distinguished guests or returning heroes being shown full honors.

  “Yeah, definitely feels like we’re the biggest, gaudiest float at the Thanksgiving day parade,” Callan said, nodding. He waved away Sevvir’s look of confusion and strode forward. “Come on. I think we’re safe for now.”

  Indeed, none of the orbs approached. If Callan tried to turn aside they raised their front legs in a vaguely threatening manner, but they dropped them again the second he backed off. Behind him the two lines began to collapse together.

  So, no retreat then. Only forward.

  They reached the other side of the room in less than two minutes. Behind them the orbs followed at a respectful distance. None tried to follow him and Sevvir through the door.

  “Seems like we avoided at least one fight,” he noted. Sevvir glanced back, frowning.

  “I think I would have almost preferred a fight. What is this other avatar planning for you, I wonder?”

  “About to find out,” Callan said, gesturing further into the room. Behind them, the door to the battlefield room slammed shut of its own accord.

  This new room was much cleaner than the last, but just as cluttered. It had clearly seen more recent use, as evidenced by the cluster of tents and bedrolls set up in one corner.

  But that barely registered at the back of Callan’s mind. He was more focused on the river of literal molten rock pouring from a hole in the far wall and flowing down a small trench set in the floor, ending at a pool near the center. Around the pool were a pair of anvils and several forges of various size, along with other equipment familiar to him from Alyssa’s smithy. Further beyond were racks of tools, some looking brand new, others with flakes of rust covering their surface.

  If Callan had to guess, this was where Veritas had created their masks. Probably all those crossbow bolts, too. He glanced at the ceiling but didn’t see any sort of ventilation system. How were they not suffocating under smoke right now?

  Near the rack of tools, a figure appeared out of thin air. Only belatedly did Callan see the teleportation circle on the floor. His heart leapt at the sight. That was their ticket out of this place.

  Assuming he could get past the masked figure walking towards him, anyway.

  The avatar of Veritas stopped about a dozen feet away. She cocked her head, the repaired wolf mask shifting and sending the lolling tongue pointing to one side. “Avatar Callan. I thought you were dead.”

  “Yeah, sorry.” Callan set a hand on his hip and smirked at the other avatar. “Afraid I’m a little more difficult to get rid of than that, Ulfa.”

  “Hmm.” The mask turned to regard Sevvir. “You’ve brought a new friend.”

  “Don’t mind me, Avatar.” The mjolk held up her hands and stepped off to one side. “I’m just your standard treasure hunter. I’ve got no interest in getting involved in your little fight here.”

  “Treasure hunter? Yet you still followed that one. Clearly you—”

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  “Ulfa.” At the sound of Callan’s voice, the avatar turned to look at him. “Let’s finish this fight between you and me. No more tricks, no more running away. Just you and me.”

  “The final contest.”

  “Yep, exactly.” Callan glanced at Sevvir, but she had moved away and appeared to be inspecting something at the far end of the room. Looking for that treasure of hers, most likely. He doubted she’d find much. Whatever had been in this place, it likely had been looted when Veritas claimed it for their own.

  Turning back, he raised his fists. “So what’s it going to be? A fair fight, or are you going to make me chase you again?”

  “You did manage to make it through my traps and minions,” Ulfa mused. “That shows a resourcefulness I did not anticipate from you. I will... consider finishing the contest. If you answer a question for me first.”

  “Oh yeah?” Callan watched the other avatar warily. After what they pulled up on the surface, he fully anticipated some sort of trap. Then again, if Ulfa had wanted, she could have turned her monsters in the last room loose on them. So honestly he wasn’t certain what to expect next. “What’s the question?”

  “Why do you keep calling me Ulfa?”

  The question brought Callan up short. “Because that’s your...”

  He stopped. Inside his head, Xeph shifted about. Mortal...

  “Yeah, I figured it out already, Xeph.” He looked at the other avatar. “If you aren’t Ulfa, then who are you?”

  “Ah,” the avatar said. They reached up and pulled their mask away. Callan gaped.

  “Rym???”

  WHAT???? Impossible!!!

  The yeth man stared back at him, expressionless, face void of recognition. His eyes were so glazed over, Callan half wondered if Rym was dead. Slowly, he placed the mask back over his face.

  “The one you call Rym is no more. After helping you find my camp, he took more flux than his body could handle. This is merely a dying shell now, one I am doomed to inhabit until both of us starve to death. Already I can feel it weakening. The end is not far away.”

  “But this doesn’t make any sense,” Callan said. “How can you be Rym? He was helping us! He was... he was...”

  I think you are overlooking more important questions, Mortal, Xeph said, his tone low.

  That was the understatement of the century. Callan shook his head. Then he asked the question that was burning him apart the worst. “How are you even moving? Xeph told me about an avatar of his who was a flux addict. He couldn’t do anything!”

  “Yes, that.” Veritas raised an arm, letting the sleeve of his robe fall back. Beneath, bands of metal encircled the avatar’s wrist. They wriggled their gloved fingers. “There isn’t a part of me that isn’t wrapped in metal. So long as I can manipulate that, I can move this body. Perhaps not as well as its owner, but it has also freed me from... certain limitations this host has imposed upon our time together.”

  “And the talking?”

  “This mask is also metal. By vibrating it with certain frequencies, I can produce sounds that mimic that of speech.”

  This was a lot to take in. It made Callan’s head swim just thinking about it. Veritas had been manipulating Rym’s body this entire time? So whenever the poor addict was out, the god must have taken over. That did explain why they’d had trouble figuring out his whereabouts and patterns.

  Except...

  “I scanned Rym’s body,” he said. “You weren’t in him earlier, I would have seen you.”

  The god—avatar—whatever, paused for a moment. “No. After the battle at the tower we fell to arguing. Rym refused to help me anymore. He forced my essence into a lump of metal in his tent and abandoned me. But after you left him there to die, as his mind shattered for the final time, I wormed my way back in. Perhaps I should have stayed where I was, safe again, but I couldn’t allow you to escape unpunished for what you did to me. Better a painful death trapped in this meat suit than waiting another fifty years for my revenge.”

  I knew I shouldn’t have just left him there alone. The guilt washed over Callan like a tidal wave. He gritted his teeth. “I still don’t get how—”

  Human, Xeph interrupted. It doesn’t matter. Whether it is Rym or Ulfa’s body, that is still Veritas. We must defeat them if we ever hope to make the Badlands our own.

  Once again, his head-mate was right. Callan put his curiosities aside. They would only hinder him in what he needed to do. Instead, he pointed a finger at Veritas. “I’m sorry it’s come to this, but I can’t allow you to leave. There’s only room enough for one god on these plateaus.”

  “Yes, I agree.” Veritas inclined their head. “Let us finish the contest we began back in the village. One final challenge.”

  “Combat.”

  “Indeed.”

  There was no need for further words. Veritas raised their hands, and a pair of knives dropped into them. He began stalking forward.

  In response, Callan snapped Wurmchain towards the other god. It shot towards Veritas like a hissing snake. At the last second they twisted, barely avoiding a strike.

  “You’ve gotten better with that weapon, Avatar Callan,” Veritas noted as Callan snapped Wurmchain back and held it high for another strike.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  “Hmm.” The god took another step back, placing himself out of the chain’s range—or so he thought. He paced to one side like a stalking tiger.

  Callan started to follow, only to almost fall on his face instead. He looked down, and saw that the floor had risen up, sealing around his feet. When had Veritas managed that?

  He looked up just in time to deflect a dagger off his wrist. Veritas laughed. “You truly think you can stand against me? Here? This place is my domain, and there is nothing I cannot bend to my will. You are without your priests, and do not possess the strength to stand against me alone.”

  “Notice that you’re missing a few priests yourself there, buddy.” Callan held his arms up defensively, watching for another knife strike. He needed to clear the ironstone clinging to his feet, but the second he bent down to do that, Veritas would be on him. What was the best move in this situation?

  Mortal. Xeph’s voice was a low rumble. Perhaps it is time to employ your new maneuver.

  Callan didn’t bother responding. He didn’t want to use his new ace just yet, especially with Veritas’s attention on him. Who knew what senses the god could employ right now, but he was sure to notice Callan closing his eyes and think it strange.

  Luckily, he had other tools at his disposal.

  The stone appeared over Callan shoulder for only a heartbeat before it rocketed away. Veritas let out a bark of surprise right before the stone struck them square in the face. Metal squealed as their mask crumpled inward then tore away entirely.

  Rym’s expressionless face stared back at Callan for a moment. Then the god turned, hands grasping for the mask where it lay behind them, amazingly still in one piece.

  Perfect! Reaching down, Callan used his Wurmchain to cut his feet free. By the time he was finished, Veritas was almost done affixing his mask.

  “A clever ploy, Avatar Callan, but do not expect it to work a second time—”

  The god flung their hands up to protect their face as the second stone smashed into them. Callan was up and running the second he fired off the attack. He swung his chain.

  Either Veritas saw him coming or had some additional sense to give warning. The god ducked, Wurmchain sheering away what remained of the wolf’s upper face but otherwise doing no noticeable damage to the skull underneath. Callan cursed and snapped the weapon back to him.

  Fire seared into his leg as he did. He looked down and saw a knife buried to the hilt in the meat of his hamstring. A hiss of pain slipped past his lips.

  He looked up in time to see Veritas hurling something at him even as he retreated further. A bar of metal shot towards Callan like a bolt of lightning, and only a last-second swing from Wurmchain managed to knock it aside.

  Unfortunately, a second and third followed on the heels of the first. Callan sliced one apart as it came, but the last struck him on the left shoulder. The metal immediately spread out, sealing over his skin and pinning his arm to his body.

  Did he honestly expect that trick to work a second time? Callan thought with a grim smile. With a thought, he shifted Mountainform to his shoulders, the stone expanding outward and popping the metal clamp free.

  “Hey Veritas, you—fuck!” Callan twisted to the side, but too slowly. Another knife sank into his left arm, cutting deep and sending out a spray of hot blood onto the floor. It took all of Callan’s willpower not to scream. Reaching up, he wrenched the weapon free. It puffed away to nothing before he could hurl it back at the god.

  Is it time to use our new attack now? Xeph asked.

  “Not yet.” The words came out as more of a growl through gritted teeth.

  Hmm. Xeph didn’t offer further comment, for which Callan was grateful.

  “It is not too late to surrender, Avatar Callan,” Veritas said. They began pacing in a wide circle again, forcing Callan into a hobbling turn lest they show the god their back. “Lay down your weapons, and I will make your death quick and painless.”

  “Big talk from someone I almost cut in half a minute ago.”

  “Big talk from someone who bears all the injuries in this fight.”

  “Oh, I’m just getting warmed up.” Callan reached for the knife in his leg, but it too puffed away before he could even touch it. Blood started to pour out in earnest from the wound, leaving a spreading pool on the floor.

  Okay, hitting him with his own weapons is out. He considered his options while Veritas summoned another pair of blades. I need another distraction. No other choice for it, gotta pass the apotheosis threshold.

  “Sorry, Xeph,” he whispered, right as the floor began to rumble.

  Aw, Hell, what now? Callan glanced around and spotted a metal plate sliding across the magma pool on the floor. As it sealed shut, the light in the room dimmed noticeably.

  “I, too, am just getting ‘warmed up’, Avatar Callan,” Veritas said. They stepped back, fading into the growing gloom. Another plate slid across the opening in the wall, and the last vestige of light disappeared. “Let us see how confident you remain as I pick you to pieces in the dark.”

  Callan couldn’t help himself. He started laughing. Somewhere in the dark, he heard Veritas pause. The laughter continued to roll out of him despite his efforts to make it stop.

  Is it time now, mortal?

  “Yes, Xeph, now it’s time.” Callan had been waiting for an opportunity, and the metal god had gifted him one, just like that.

  He closed his eyes and exhaled.

  In the darkness behind his eyelids, a light flared to life. This wasn’t the gray tangle of unused conduits, like with Lisson. It wasn’t balls of light like he saw with the priests, either. It was a roaring, all-consuming conflagration, tinged a golden-orange to his non-sight. Callan drew in a sharp breath, despite himself.

  Is that what my own power looks like? he wondered. How would Xeph appear to another avatar?

  Then, remembering himself, he exhaled again and started swinging Wurmchain.

  “You think to keep me at arm’s length,” Veritas said, their voice echoing around Callan so that he couldn’t tell where it came from. Not that it mattered. He saw the god clear as day. “You think you can defend yourself like you did on your pitiful tower. Do you know how my priests and I were able to overwhelm you, Avatar Callan? How we moved through the dark of a moonless night?”

  “Velak Gaze?” Callan asked. He’d put that together sometime during the tower siege, or maybe shortly after. It was the only power of Veritas’s that they’d never confirmed. Plus, its name had reminded him of Xeph’s own offered power, Dveorgvision. So he was guessing there was more to it than simply seeing in the dark.

  “Yes, very good. I can see in even the blackest of pits, where no light can ever reach. And like a true Velak, every piece of metal calls out to me. I can see every button, every coin you carry. You are lit up like the Emperor itself to my senses. Whatever pitiful ability your god has gifted you pales in comparison.”

  “You’d be surprised.” Callan intentionally turned himself away from Veritas, acting as if he was searching the dark. The metal god moved in closer, though still staying outside of Wurmchain’s range. They raised an arm.

  Callan ducked as the knife flew over his head, his leg screaming in pain at the sudden movement. Veritas darted forward, and Wurmchain sang out in response, rippling through the air. The god retreated.

  “You cannot keep me away forever, Avatar Callan. I will pick you apart piece by piece if I must.”

  “How many more of those knives can you even summon?” Callan asked. “I’m betting I can outlast whatever power you have remaining.”

  His words must have hit a nerve. The god hesitated a moment, then launched forward. Callan swung Wurmchain, and again Veritas danced out of range.

  Just need the right opportunity. Can’t waste the element of surprise or this will all be for nothing.

  The god would make a move soon, he knew. His own apotheosis had to be high—or however it worked when a god used their power directly. That felt like a subject he and Xeph should have talked over before now. They’d have to make up for that error later.

  The opportunity came like a runaway truck. Callan felt the floor once again rise and seal his feet, locking him in place. At the same moment, Veritas threw his remaining knife. Then he was launching forward.

  Callan swung Wurmchain. At the same moment, the knife nicked him on the shoulder, twisting him about. He felt it scrape against his bone before it went tumbling away into the dark. Pain lanced through him.

  Veritas slipped under the chain as it passed, closing the distance between them in seconds. He knocked Wurmchain from Callan’s hands. Callan’s vision went dark.

  Then fingers closed around his throat.

  “I offered you a quick death before,” Veritas hissed right in his face. “I won’t be so merciful now. You’ll die slowly, one gasping breath at a time. This is my domain, and you are nothing but an interloper, an unwanted pest. Once you are dead, I’ll—”

  He didn’t manage to finish before a stone pillar slammed into his stomach.

  The god stumbled back, wheezing. “How?”

  “This might be your domain,” Callan said, half-coughing them out. He held a hand out and summoned Wurmchain again. “But ironstone is still stone. Which means this is my domain, too.”

  Actually, if Veritas hadn’t manipulated the floor so much that he’d revealed the more common stone underneath the ironstone vein, Callan doubted he would have been able to do much of anything. But there was no need to explain all of that to the other god.

  “No, no!” Veritas scrambled back. Callan closed his eyes as he swung Wurmchain. He exhaled.

  The chain grew in length, even as it sailed through the air. Veritas threw his hands up at the last second, perhaps hoping that his own steelform would protect him.

  It didn’t. Wurmchain sliced through both of the god’s arms, right at the wrist. His hands hit the ground with a pair of wet squelches.

  “Nooooooooooo!!!” The god’s scream echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls until it sounded like a hundred voices were crying out at once.

  Callan opened his eyes. The room was still completely dark. He closed them again, then turned about until he found the distant blob of gray that was Sevvir.

  “Hey, Sevvir, a little light, please?”

  “You know I can’t get involved in this fight, Callan.”

  “The fight is over. I won.”

  “It is true,” came Veritas’s voice. “I... I admit defeat.”

  Callan opened his eyes, then winced as flames blossomed overhead. He turned and looked at Veritas, who stood a short distance away, shoulders slumped.

  “Why?” the god asked. “Why couldn’t you have just left me in peace? I only wanted my own little bit of domain, the same as any god. Are mountains so jealous they cannot even share that much?”

  They started stalking forward. Callan raised Wurmchain.

  “You know why this happened, Veritas.” He watched warily in case they tried anything, but the god simply walked past him, uncaring. They stepped onto the metal plate at the center of the room.

  “You’re right. I should never have taken Rym as my avatar. Even from the very first moment, I knew I was doomed.” Blood poured from the Avatar’s wounds, but they barely even seemed to notice. “I thought the situation temporary. That I would find another to bear me before the addiction took his mind, but... it was all for nothing. There were no others in Aos with the proper conduits. If I could have just left this cursed plateau, perhaps...”

  “Why didn’t you?” Callan asked. He was starting to feel woozy from blood loss himself and needed to finish this. Yet he hesitated from ending Veritas until he’d at least heard his answer.

  “Rym would not allow me. He insisted I help his sister escape their village first, but Alyssa did not want freedom, only revenge. By the time I could have left, this body was in no shape to do so. I stayed for revenge the first time, and I stayed for revenge the last time.” The metal god sighed. “Both were a failure.”

  Despite everything that had happened, Callan started to feel a small amount of pity for the god. “If I brought you a metal vessel—”

  It would amount to nothing, Xeph said. There is a reason that gods do not use our powers directly. To do so eats at our very essence. It breaks us apart inside, and past a certain point, there is no putting the pieces back together.

  “I am finished,” Veritas said, as if they had heard Xeph’s words. “Even if I had defeated you, I would have fallen soon after. My time is done.”

  They turned and regarded Sevvir. The girl had come and joined Callan by the side of the platform, a flame held high overhead. “I know what it is you seek here, mjolk, and I tell you now that you shall not have it. Better for me to die here than live a half existence or worse.”

  “What is he talking about?” Callan asked. Before either Xeph or Sevvir could respond, Veritas raised their hands over their head.

  “Goodbye, Avatar Callan.”

  The plate at their feet suddenly pulled back. One moment Veritas stood at the center of the room, and the next they were gone, a splash of molten rock the only indication they’d been there at all.

  “The hell?” Callan leaned over, but there was no sign of Veritas. What even happened to someone when they fell in magma? Did they burn, or simply melt away?

  There wasn’t enough of Veritas left to tell one way or another. He shook his head. “I can’t believe they just jumped in like that. Didn’t even hesitate.”

  It almost makes me wonder if that was their plan from the beginning. Perhaps if we had only been a few minutes later in arriving, we could have avoided this fight entirely.

  “Dammit, Xeph, don’t tell me that. Now I’ll always wonder if...” Callan blinked. He swayed unsteadily to one side. Wurmchain fell from his hand, puffing away in a cloud of sulphur. If Sevvir hadn’t grabbed hold of his shoulder, Callan might have followed Veritas into the pool.

  “T—thanks,” he said through chattering teeth. That wasn’t a good sign. How much blood had he lost?

  Sevvir looked him up and down, frowning. “You need healing. Just a moment, let me...”

  She trailed off, staring. Callan followed her gaze. The door to the battlefield room had opened again, and the orb monsters were streaming through it. They made directly for the two of them.

  “Mother’s tits! It never ends!” Sevvir waved her hand, and a wall of fire formed between them and the orbs. “That won’t hold them off for long. Tell me you know another way out.”

  “I do, actually.” Callan turned and started hobbling for the teleportation circle. He only made it three steps before stumbling. Then Sevvir slipped under his arm and started hauling him forward.

  “L—let’s hope it still works,” he said, as the sound of angry clicks and hisses grew behind them.

  It should, but not for much longer. And that is assuming Veritas didn’t destroy it after their arrival down here. But fear not, mortal. If the portal is inoperative, you will have the rest of your life to regret the choices that led to us being here. The rest of your very, very short life.

  “Thanks for the p—positive attitude,” Callan muttered. He and Sevvir stepped onto the teleportation circle as the army of monsters surged at their heels.