After breakfast, we said goodbye to Frescan and Krad and I attempted to discuss travel arrangements with Ferrisdae. Attempted because it turned out that she could conjure transportation with magic.

  The Skymirror Carriage was a powerful spell that conjured animals and an enclosed wagon. It mirrored the sky, as the name suggested, which was a bright blue with a few clouds scattered about. The carriage matched what was above us, even changing to a fluffy white color as we passed underneath those clouds.

  The animals, a pair of Astral Horses, were beautiful creatures. I was enamored with them at first because I could see the stars moving along their hide and could even pick out a few constellations. They didn't hold my attention for long, however.

  I'd like to say that I was a rock. Completely incapable of flinching in the raging torrent that was Ferrisdae's sunny disposition. That I fended off all of her attempts to return to that conversation at Tavern. Her cheerful demeanor and persistence annoyed me. That's the story I was selling myself, anyway.

  I'd like to say that, but it wouldn’t have been completely true.

  Thankfully, my Sending Stone started to vibrate. I waved Ferrisdae off and brought it to my ear. "Dungeon Inspector Badger speaking."

  "Hello, Badger," Brackenhorst responded. My eyes flicked to Ferrisdae, who was staring at me, and then to the road.

  "Chief Inspector Brackenhorst, we're on our way to New Frausta now."

  "I had hoped so. Did she cast her Skymirror Carriage spell? And are you currently on the Old Queen's Road?"

  I scowled. These kinds of calls were pure torture. "Yes to the carriage, no to the road. I directed her to Calis Pass because I wanted more traveled roads to avoid roaming monsters so we could get back faster." Ferrisdae gave me a questioning look and started pulling out a map of the area. I shook my head at her.

  Brackenhorst barked a laugh. "You know it's no use lying to me, Badger, you never practiced enough to pull the wool over my eyes," he said. "We've got word that there's a strike in progress by workers of the Green Union. They don't have anyone they can send out there right now, so they requested our help."

  "You know I hate it when you do this," I said through my teeth. "So why do you keep doing it?"

  "Sorry, can't talk anymore. I have to give Flonk a call. There's a dungeon in need of subjugation he's about to pass. Good luck!"

  "Don't you lea-" I felt the magic disperse from the Stone and I sighed.

  "No," Ferrisdae said. She was still looking at the map, tapping the road we were on with her finger. "We're definitely on the Old Queen's Road. I knew we didn't deviate from the path."

  "That's because I was trying to lie to him," I sullenly explained. "Take a right at the next fork."

  "But that'll take us farther from New Frausta," she stated, looking back down at the map in confusion. "What did Brack say?"

  "He changed my schedule. Again." I released a deep breath. Ferrisdae didn't need to be—shouldn't be—the focus of my anger. I just happened to like it more when my schedule was clear, concise, and unchanging. "The chief wants us to check out a dungeon nearby, and says there's a union strike going on."

  "Wow, that timing is literally perfect," Ferrisdae said. She looked impressed. My scowl deepened.

  "Don't give him too much credit," I said. "He's a Stonesong Bard. Not much of a showman anymore, but he thoroughly enjoys his sense of dramatic timing."

  "Really?" Ferrisdae snorted. "He's got a sixth sense for, what? When to best interrupt an ongoing wedding?"

  "Yes. It's an actual bard ability they call Sense of Drama," I explained. She had a dubious look on her face. I cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

  "That just seems… kinda useless, I guess," she admitted.

  "Then let me educate you," I said as we turned the corner. It would be almost a straight shot forward to our destination on this road. "Everything you think you know about bards, throw it out of the carriage. Sure, some go from tavern to tavern playing for coins, but great bards? Hell, even just good ones? They know how to play political games better than anyone. Any rebellion or renaissance you've heard of was probably started by a bard."

  "Really?" Ferrisdae asked, incredulous.

  "A good bard can be terrifying," I said. "Think about it. He called us back from Thatcher. This road is well out of maintenance, so wagons and caravans avoid it. Most would have to swing to Elease and add another day to their trip."

  Her eyes narrowed in thought. "But… he knew what spells I could cast and predicted I'd summon the Skymirror to get back faster since the horses and magic carriage wouldn't care about the road. He knew we'd come this way."

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  I nodded along. "Yes, and he does this for every Inspector under his jurisdiction. I hate it when he does it. A schedule is made for a reason and mine's already been changed! I'd much rather him just let me do my job!"

  "That's rough, Badger," she said, trying to sound sympathetic.

  ******

  The carriage stopped in front of a group of union workers. Putting my anger aside, I stood on the seat so I could look down at them. Several wide mushroom tops tilt back and even more beady eyes staring into mine. The smell of freshly tilled soil hung in the air. Fungus Leshies.

  The nature spirits known as Leshies comprised the bulk of the Green Union. They came in many shapes, sizes, and types, but Fungus Leshies were the most common in dungeons with carnivorous beasts that would prefer to eat meat. They would act like minions and in return gain nourishment.

  "You cannot pass," the lead Leshy said, his voice squeaking like a rusted hinge. "This road is off limits until the dungeon is restored to full functionality."

  I reached into my Dimensional Pocket and pulled out a gold badge in the shape of two large doors with an ornate key emblazoned in the center. "I am Dungeon Inspector Badger and this is Junior Dungeon Inspector Ferrisdae," I said. "We're from the DoD, and we were asked for by the Green Union. If you're the one in charge, I'd like you to come with us to the dungeon and explain what's happening."

  "I am the one in charge, yes," it said, moving towards the carriage door. "I am glad you are here. We want to return home as soon as we can."

  "That's the plan," Ferrisdae chirped. She helped the Leshy up; it was even shorter than I was. "What shall we call you, and what's the situation?"

  "Thank you. My name is Bokolako. We are the minions of the great and especially terrible Dread Weaver, Sevensleg." The familiar name made me frown, but I said nothing when the carriage began moving again as the Leshies made way for the Astral Horses.

  Dread Weavers. Massive monstrosities born when Dream Spiders, which were already huge, were taken over by the spores of a Nightmareshroom. Most spiders attempt suicide before the process finishes and they lost themselves. Poor bastards.

  "Last I heard, Sevensleg was recently relocated here from his first dungeon, wasn't he?" I asked. It had been a big event at the time. I wasn't there to witness it myself, but I listened to the story nearly a dozen times. They had to march it through the streets of New Frausta to get it out of the city.

  "Yes," Bokolako confirmed. "He got too big for the sewers. This is where they brought him, and his lair is not too far from here."

  "What made you all go on strike?" Ferrisdae asked. If she was in New Frausta recently, maybe she saw the event. Instead of fear, though, she looked giddy.

  "He began eating us," Bokolako answered grimly.

  Ferrisdae lost her bounce and I sat straighter. This kind of thing wasn't unheard of with evil creatures and beasts. In fact, it was part of the job for some minions because of their ability to revive inside of dungeons.

  "Was that in your contract?" I asked. Devouring was something that both parties had to give full consent on. It was one of the more severely punished crimes a dungeon owner can commit..

  There were strict rules about when it was appropriate, however. Like during boss fights for extra stamina or to make adventurers think they're extra evil. It always seemed too edgy to me, personally. The fact that Sevensleg was eating Leshies when he himself was a carnivore sent up some red flags.

  Bokolako shook his head, causing the wide brim of his mushroom to throw spores over the carriage. "No, it is not," he answered. "This is a new development. We have been avoiding him ever since the first time. Now, he has started to hunt us. We've had to evacuate the dungeon."

  "And that was why you contacted your union," I stated. The road was beginning to narrow as the trees began to grow into the road. Spider webs became more common the deeper we went. These were regular spider webs; Dread webs were pitch black, hard to see, and were laced with spores that made you panic if it made contact with skin.

  The cave mouth was huge, big enough for two or three of our carriages to fit through. The inside was unnaturally dark, like the sun's light was forbidden in such a place. I started digging around in my pocket.

  "We're going to take care of this for you, Bokolako," I promised. Finding what I was looking for, I pulled a vial of viscous green liquid out. "You have an antifungal?" I asked Ferrisdae.

  "Of course I do," she snorted. Like I made a joke. The spores of the Dread Weaver were not a joke. I made sure she could see me rolling my eyes and she childishly stuck her tongue out at me before asking, "Do you want me to knock?"

  I uncorked the vial and downed the antifungal, watching my hand as my skin flashed green for a brief moment. It was tasteless by design. Alchemists found that there was no way to make it taste good, so nothing was literally better. Ferrisdae did the same beside me. Returning the empty container to my pocket, I nodded. "Go for it."

  From a Dimensional Pocket stitched onto the inside of her robe, Ferrisdae pulled a black metal rod nearly three feet long. A Dungeon Doorknocker. It was used to get the attention of a dungeon's inhabitants for peaceful negotiations. Mostly peaceful, at least.

  Ferrisdae had a confident gait as she moved to the cave entrance. We'd see how brave she really was in a minute. Bokolako took a few steps back. I remained planted in place. With a look back to me and my nod, she struck the inside wall with the rod.

  There was no noise but the forest became quiet. It lasted an uncomfortably long amount of time, as silence was prone to do, and we finally heard the movement of something large coming from within the cave.

  The first thing we saw were its glowing eyes, each the size of Ferrisdae's head and focused on her. It made a noise that sounded like it had rocks tumbling in its throat. Those eyes blinked furiously as it took its steps into the light.

  Sevensleg was, indeed, too large for the sewers. Spores shook off of the black mushrooms embedded on his back with every irregular step that was caused by its missing leg, his front left, which was now nothing more than a dangling stub. He approached Ferrisdae and leaned down close enough for her hair to move from its breath.

  To her credit, the rookie didn't flinch when she was face to face with teeth that were at least as tall as I that dripped with a potent insanity venom. I knew she wasn't stupid, but this bravery was pushing it.

  More rumbling growls came from Sevensleg as it tried to find its voice. "You've best got a good reason to call me forth, Elf," it finally thundered. "I haven't tasted your kind in a long time, and my hunger is so very deep."