“That shriek sounds ominous. What do you think is down there, Daelah?” Corath held his mystical sword in his hand. The gift from his teacher, Teivel, felt like it was ready to kill.

  The ascetic shook her head. “I don’t know. If I were a betting woman, I’d say it’s an undead of some sort.”

  He nodded. “That makes sense.”

  A brittle crack rang out from the depths below, followed by a slow, heavy glug. Something thick spilled over the stone, the sound of spreading liquid whispering up the stairwell. The shards should have settled, but instead, they dragged across the floor—one by one, as if something unseen had begun to move them.

  They froze, eyes wide. They glanced at each other.

  “Let me go first.” Corath’s voice was a hoarse whisper.

  Knuckles white, he readjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword. ‘That noise didn’t sound normal.’ He crept down the stairs until he reached the floor. His foot came down with a soft, gurgling squish. Torches flared to life on the walls.

  Coffin shaped vats, filled with a white, sour liquid, were situated haphazardly around the room. The odor was like curdled milk, but somehow more putrid. Two containers were fallen, spilling out a greenish mineral along with a couple partially preserved bodies. Their skin was rotted in some areas, dried and taut in others. One vat, near where he stood with one foot on the stairs, lay in fragments, its contents scattered over the floor and to the steps where his other foot stood.

  Across the room, shelves were filled with small tools, linen, jars and what appeared to be bags of sawdust. A faint drip... drip... drip echoed through the chamber, each drop thick and sluggish, as if reluctant to fall. His breath rose before him as it echoed from unseen corners.

  He stepped more fully into the room, his other foot coming down off the stair and hitting, the floor with a muddy squelch.

  “Corath, above you.” Daelah’s voice cut through the cold silence like a knife.

  He dove into a roll across the floor and the odd fluid on the floor squeezed into the joints of his armor with a sticky slurp. When it touched his skin, it burned, yet also felt slick and oddly cold at first, then before it quickly turned uncomfortable. A sharp, tingling sensation spread from the point of contact, making his skin feel tight, as if it were being scalded without the heat. He grunted from the pain, but pushed it to the back of his mind as he glanced up.

  Clinging to the ceiling, a slithering, tangled mess of ropelike tendrils coiled and pulsated. It was a glistening blue-black in color, with small pink barbs studding its long tentacles which spiraled and grasped for them. If the creature had a central body, it was hidden deep in the nest of writhing tendrils. A lamprey-like mouth, dripping saliva lunged for his face.

  He leaped back with a yell, raising his abruptly much heavier blade to block its attack as his boots skidded against the floor. The blade dragged in his grip, its familiar weight suddenly unwieldy, as if his body had forgotten how to move with it. A cold raced over his body as he panted.

  Daelah threw holy fire at the creature. The bolt of flame cast flickering shadows across the room as it rolled through the rippling air with a hiss and crackle.

  It leaped back with an unearthly scream, tentacles coiling and loosening many times a second. Wet cracks and pops filled the air as it moved.

  The fire missed, puffing out as it crashed against the ceiling near it, leaving behind a film of soot.

  The creature shrieked again as it whipped down, trying to bite her.

  “Keldur, guide my hand.” Her prayer was clear, the tone echoey.

  Blue light twisted around her hands, flickering like living flame as she drove her fist into the creature’s maw which slammed shut with a sickening clack.

  The creature recoiled and flipped away along the ceiling, its screams muffled. It shot into a hole and vanished, its tentacles thrashing around the stone like hundreds of meaty whips.

  “Whu-what wuh-was that?” Corath said, eyes locked on the hole where the creature had vanished into.

  “I’m not certain, as I’ve only come across a little about them in my studies, but I think it was an Aberrant.”

  “A what?” He turned his head to face her as he sheathed his sword. ‘Damn. My knuckles hurt.’ He glanced down to them as he flexed his fingers. ‘What did I do to them?’

  “An Aberrant.” She cast about until she spotted a chalky piece of rock and drew on the wall. Small fragments fell as she moved her hand smoothly over the stone. “Our world is like a wheel in the universe. Where the gods reside is over here.” She drew a circle the just brushed over the one she’d drawn to symbolize the Realm. “The Abyss is another wheel that touches ours like that of the gods.” A third circle barely touched the first one. “The spirit realm touches all of them.” This time, her circle went across the other four.” She them pointed to gaps in her drawing. “Aberrants come from here. In between.” She turned back to Corath. “The small bit I read said they might be left from when the universe was formed.”

  Behind them, the Aberrant slipped out of the hole in the wall and lowered itself to the floor. Moving in almost silence, it climbed on one of the partially preserved bodies and squirmed into its mouth. The creature wormed its way down the dark and still tunnel until it reached the long dormant stomach. From there, it slipped its tentacles into any opening it could find until it had full control over the corpse.

  It lifted the corpse to its feet with jerky movements and twirled its arms, shifting the broken bones back into place. A series of sharp, sickening cracks filled the air as the bones realigned, each movement unnatural and jarring.

  Corath and Daelah spun in to see the corpse convulse as its limbs snapped back into place with the bone-on-bone scrape like dry branches twisting in the wind.

  It brought its corpse hand up, bits of stiff skin and muscle falling off before hitting the floor with dry plops. A red and yellow flame flared into existence above its hand before building into a swirling, roiling ball of flickering fire. The small fireball grew as the controlled corpse fed magic into it. The air hissed and sizzled when it brought its send hand up with jerky movements. In the space of a couple of seconds, the ball of fire was about half the size of its torso.

  “Keldur, guide my hand.” Daelah finished her prayer and thrust a smaller ball of fire to the center of the corpse’s.

  The bluish flame released a whistle as it shot into the larger one. The two magics disappeared with a faint pop.

  “You’ve got to be faster with your sneak attacks.”

  The corpse nodded in a stilted fashion before bringing its hands up faster and flinging out a smaller fireball.

  Corath grabbed the half-orc and leaped behind a vat of filmy white liquid.

  The attack screamed through the air before exploding against their shelter.

  “Daelah, don’t teach the enemy how to fight you better.”

  She stared at him with a flushed face. “I’m sorry.” She ducked her head. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  He chuckled. “Obviously.”

  Her head snapped back up so she could glare at him. “Hey!”

  “We got lucky that one wasn’t enough to destroy our hiding place.” He peered over the top of the vat.

  The animated corpse was creating another large fireball. The preserved flesh of its chest reddening.

  Corath dropped down and tugged on her arm. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Big fireball.” He crawled towards the door.

  “I could counter it again.”

  He shook his head as he reached his destination. “Too big.” He dove through and rolled.

  She muttered a quick prayer as she crawled out the door behind him and threw a fireball over her shoulder.

  The spells collided in a huge explosion. Daelah was flung out of the doorway, rotated upside down, and hammered into a hallway wall. She dropped to the floor in a heap.

  Corath sat up with a groan. A dull ache throbbed through his skull, each of his heartbeats sending a fresh wave of nausea rolling through him as he blinked at the flickering shadows on the brick wall. His ears rang with a high-pitched whine as the world pulsed in and out of focus.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers against the lids. After a couple of moments listening to the crackle of flames and the snap of stone cooling, he dropped his hands as he opened his eyes. Spots danced before his eyes while he searched for his companion.

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  He found her laying crumpled in a corner where the floor met the wall. Her simple robes were burned and scorched with smoke rising from the fabric. Her olive-green skin was darkened and bleeding. One of her tusks lay on the ground, covered in blood and saliva. Ebony hair, crinkled from the heat and misshapen lay over her face and the floor. Her breathing was shallow and came in spurts.

  “Daelah.” His voice was dim and sounded far away to himself.

  Corath’s knees gave way when he tried to rise to his feet. “Sard it.” He crawled over to her. He put his finger under her nose, sighing when he felt her warm breath. He placed his hand on his heart. “Thank the gods she still lives, but she’s badly hurt and I don’t have any healing spells or potions on me.” He lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Keldur, I know I’m not a follower of yours, much less a worshipper, but Daelah is, and I’m growing to like her. Would you please heal her wounds? I’ll make a donation to the next temple of yours I encounter.”

  Stillness filled the corridor as even the fire in the other room froze. The air grew thick as if the world held its breath. A soft glow pulsed at the edges of the room while the shadows stretched and trembled, flickering toward the wounded ascetic. A low, resonant hum filled the air, too deep to be heard, but filling his chest.

  Daelah’s chest rose and fell with smoother motions as divine energy filled her. A blueish halo surrounded her body as her bubbled skin smoothed out and her hair straightened.

  Corath’s skin tingled as she rose on a soft breeze. Her brilliant jade eyes opened, filled with blue light. A beatific smile crossed her face.

  “That was amazing.”

  Corath squinted at her. “In what way?”

  “I felt Lord Keldur’s direct touch. It was everything I hade ever imagined and more.”

  “Interesting.” He scratched at his upper lip. “I wonder what the cost will be.”

  She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “Healing you took some energy, so what might the balance be?”

  “Oh, no.” She placed her hand on his arm. “Lord Keldur is the God of Justice. Lady Kami is the Goddess of Balance.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Then why is Keldur’s symbol a set of scales?”

  “Haven’t you heard of the Scales of Justice?”

  “Dimly, I think. Isn’t it a human concept?”

  “Justice is Lord Keldur’s concept.” Daelah gave him another smile.

  “Interesting.” He turned to poke his head in the room they’d dove out of. “Your fireball destroyed this room. The stone is scorched and cracked, the vats are shattered and whatever was on the floor was burned away.”

  “Really?” She rose and crossed the hall to look in. Most of the walls were blackened with soot, and all the bodies were reduced to ash. One wall was scoured free of all debris and its outer layer except for the shadow of the corpse they’d been fighting. Nothing else remained of it. Heat radiated from the stone, casting shimmering waves through the room as the air carried the stench of burned flesh, melted metal and hot, bitter chemicals. “Wow. I’d never encountered that before.”

  His eyebrows rose again. “You haven’t?”

  She shook her head. “No.” She tapped her lip and then reached into the room. Warmth met her skin. “It’s cooling off fast.”

  “A fascinating development, but I think we’ve spent long enough here.” He gazed down the hall. “There’s another room to the left, and a set of stairs ahead.”

  She nodded as she turned away from the room. “Let’s head down the stairs and learn what else awaits us in the dark.”

  “Excellent idea.”

  ###

  Carter cast his gaze over the shackled demon. His scalloped wings were spread out as if he were in flight, but spikes were driven through them. Oily blood dripped from the wounds. His arms and legs were spread wide with copper-colored shackles binding them to the wall behind him. His bulging muscles strained against the bindings that held his immense weight, but there was no give to them. “Ganēni Gēta, how did you end up here?”

  The room had cracked purple-colored tiles with an arcane sigil painted in blood within an inlaid silver circle. Silvery flames flickered and danced about a foot above it, casting twisting shadows on the floor. On the ceiling above, someone had used onyx to form a seven-point star. It pulsed a silvery-purple like a diseased heart. A deep thrum came with each palpitation.

  “I was torn from my home by a human sorcerer.” The demon’s voice was like a rockslide as it reverberated though the otherwise empty room.

  Carter crouched by the sigil, knees popping with the sudden movement, and studied it. “This is interesting, Ganēni Gēta.” He trailed his fingers through the slippery blood and held his fingers up to his eyes and rubbed them together before turning his gaze to the demon. “These,” he pointed to the symbols, “aren’t anything but decorations.”

  Fire blazed from the demon’s eyes. “Yet I am trapped here, unable to escape.”

  Carter walked over and tapped the copper-colored shackle around his right leg. He nodded and stepped back. “That’s made of Kords. I can still see a faint outline of Adora’s profile a few times.”

  The demon cursed in multiple languages as black fire engulfed his body and swirled through the room, leaving behind the shackles and the scent of raw sulphur. The black fire crackled and danced before vanishing, revealing a darkly handsome crimson-skinned humanoid. He was nine feet tall, reed thin, yet muscular. His slightly pointed ears, yellow fangs, six fingered hands and fire-filled eyes helped remind him of the demon Ganēni Gēta was.

  “How did you know, Carter Blake?” The demon glared at him with hate-filled eyes. His voice was now like velvet rubbed the wrong way.

  Carter rolled his. “I’ve been hunting your kind for almost a decade, specifically in the Abyss. Don’t you think I’d have picked up on your kind’s tricks by now?”

  “What now?”

  Carter peered around at the blank stone walls, and raised his head, sniffing at the air. “We’re not in the Abyss, and as I mentioned earlier, your palace is in chaos, and those chains were a bit of theater.” He returned his gaze to the demon. “How are you kept here?”

  “A cursed artifact called the Lamp of Allah-ah-Dihn.”

  Carter narrowed his eyes. “That’s an unexpected name.” He circled the demon. “It sounds like it is a more powerful artifact than I anticipated.”

  Ganēni Gēta folded his arms as he watched the human walk around him. I refused to spin to keep him in sight. I will not show weakness to this mortal. He huffed a breath. ‘Hunts my kind. Not a chance.’

  Carter paused behind the demon and leaned forward to whisper into his ear. “The Lamp’s wielder is able to warp reality, isn’t he?”

  The demon rotated his head around to face him. “No, the Lamp is.”

  “How?”

  “Free me, and I’ll tell you.”

  Carter shook his head and walked back the way he’d come. “I suspect I’ll need the Lamp in order to do that.” He stopped, leaned against the wall the demon had pretended to be chained to, folded his large arms over his barrel chest and put his right foot flat against the wall. “Teach me how to use the Lamp, and I promise to free you.”

  “I need assurance you’ll keep your word.” Ganēni Gēta waved his hand, and a throne made of screaming souls appeared. He sat and ran his finger over the leftmost arm rest. The shrieks quieted as he crossed his right leg over his left knee. “How might we do that?” The orange flames of his eyes shifted to green as he watched Carter. He tapped a finger on his chin as the other five stroked a beard that hadn’t been there before. “I know. Let me borrow your soul.”

  Carter laughed long and hard, stumbling over, hands on his knees. The demon lounged on his throne, waiting.

  After a few minutes, Carter’s guffaws died down to chortles and then faded. “Oh, thank you. I needed a good laugh.” He straightened. “How about a Soul Binding, instead.”

  Ganēni Gēta sat upright. “You would do this, with me?”

  Carter leaned back in a stretch, and his gambeson rose, exposing his belly with its Tianarri moss scar. “Obviously.” He straightened and tugged the jacket back into place. “I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”

  The demon nodded. “Of course. Shall we?”

  ***

  Carter appeared behind Adora who was tapping on a wall with a seven-point star on it. He glanced down to his bare chest to the same star carved into his flesh. Fresh blood oozed from the ritual mark, but it would stop soon.

  “What are you doing, Adora?”

  She whirled around, spinning her flanged mace into her hand with a slap of flesh to leather. Her other hand was covered in viridian flames. “Carter!” She jumped to embrace him, dropping her weapons as she did so. “What happened to you? Where did you go?”

  He held her warm softness in his arms, hugging her snuggly. Heat rushed through him, sharpening his senses, making him more aware of the woman in his arms. Her breasts, restricted as they were by her armor, were crushed against his chest, her warm lips not far from his neck as her hot breath sent goosebumps across his skin. His pulse quickened, as the air surrounding him became charged and heavier.

  She kissed his cheek, searing his flesh, before releasing him. “I was worried about you.” She stepped back, leaving him stunned and frustrated.

  “I-i…” He cleared his throat, pulling back his raging emotions. “I ended up in a demon prison.” His face still felt hot as he shook his head. He reached out to touch the cold stone, needing to recenter himself.

  “What is that on your chest, Carter?” Her abrupt cold tone made him turn back to her.

  He spread his hands, palms up. “Wha-what? Whu-why are you mad all of a sudden?”

  She jabbed her finger to his chest.

  He glanced down to the Soul Bind symbol. The blood had smeared from her embrace, yet the wound had sealed, leaving only the lurid scar.

  “I used a Soul Binding ritual.”

  “I can see that.” She glared at him, fingers twitching towards the handle of her mace. “Why?”

  “He’s imprisoned and I needed information plus be able to trust it was good.”

  “If you break the pact he gets your soul, Carter.” Her voice was a growl.

  He nodded. “And if he does, I get his power.”

  “It is wrong.”

  He kissed her on the forehead before she could react. “It is a habit of mine.”

  Carter then bounded up the stairs and down a hall.

  ***

  Carter opened a polished stone door to find himself at a narrow stone landing. It connected to a bridge built of rope and wood, placed to cross a natural crevice. The crevice was tight where it connected to the passage, and it wasn't much wider than the top way below him, though he could tell by the smell it contained some water. Gray with age, the bridge still seemed sturdy. At its far end, perhaps thirty feet away, the bridge connected to another landing and a wider chamber.

  Adora caught up with him. “I wasn’t finished talking with you.” Her voice echoed in the cavern.

  He pointed to the bridge as he watched the far side. “Looks like it’s made to last, no?” He glanced over his shoulder. “It looks to me like a good place for an ambush.”

  She blinked at the subject change, but went with it. “What might be lying in wait?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m betting whatever got the warg’s attention earlier.”

  He placed his hands on the rope handholds and tested the wood slats with his right foot. The wood made a thunk and the ropes creaked. ‘It seems safe, but I’d want to give that appearance, too, if I were going to ambush people.’ He combed his fingers through his beard and winced as they got caught in tangles. “I’ve got to trim this blasted thing as soon as I can.”

  “Worry about your beard later, Carter. Is it safe to cross the bridge?” She peered over the edge of the crevasse. “Or should we jump down there?” She pointed to the bottom. “It looks to be only twenty feet, or so, and there’s also a basin of water.”

  “It looks sturdy enough. Let’s cross.”

  He stepped out and the rope bridge shook under his feet. He gripped the handhold which felt rough and fibrous against his palms. The strands of rope scraped his skin as he adjusted his grip and waited for the crossing to steady.

  Adora gasped at the shifting and reached out for her husband.

  “Whew. That was intense.” He looked back at her again and winked. “I’ll go slower.”

  She rolled her eyes at his wink. “You’d better.”

  “You prefer me to go slow, do you?” His voice dropped a couple octaves. “Good to know.” He gave her a slow smile and moved forward over the bridge.

  ‘What was that? Is Carter flirting with me?’ She fanned herself with her hand, but it didn’t do much to cool her hot face. ‘What brought this on?’ She thought back to his reaction when she’d jumped on him when she’d seen he was safe. ‘I’m pretty sure he’d been hard before I stepped back.’

  His back muscles bunched and jumped as he moved across the bridge. She bit her lip to keep from reaching out to touch his bare skin while she followed him.

  ‘I should ask him what has changed.’ She sighed. ‘But at the same time, I don’t want to risk him changing his mind again.’

  A high whine, followed by sharp staccato pops like a crackling fire hit the air. The bridge lurched as wood shattered and the roped lashed the air.

  “Adora!” Carter spun, caught her around her hips with a final twist as his shoulders burned, tossed her the rest of the way across the bridge as the ropes finished breaking and the bridge fell beneath him.