“We’ve got to try something.” The words hit like a wet blanket, uncomfortable and sticky.

  You know what you’ve got to do. [Cheat Death has reset].

  “It hasn’t been a day yet,” I muttered, checking my cooldowns only to find that [Cheat Death] was ready to use. “What have you done?” I stared at the slug numbly.

  I have skills too. Just giving you a little nudge.

  “It’s more like you’re helping throw me off a cliff into a pool of piranhas.” Richard sat on his little stone perch, carefully avoiding my eyes as he started grooming. He and I were a bit apart from the rest of the group, sitting a little closer to the watery barrier than anyone else was comfortable with.

  You need to practice. You’re running out of time.

  I didn’t bother asking the question, I knew he wouldn’t answer. Practice for what? I’d asked it a dozen times in the last week as he’d increasingly tried to cajole and threaten me into practicing.

  Wait a minute.

  “Richard, did you know about the dungeon?” The slug studiously ignored me. I scooted closer, not wanting anyone to hear what I was going to ask next. “Did you help it lure us in?”

  I knew it was here. Elasira, the captain of Lira’s Talon, used to brag all the time about the underwater desert they’d cleared.

  I sat watching a fish with a needled under bite eye me with the fish equivalent of a hungry grin.

  “You didn’t answer the question.” The blood from the dungeon’s first kill had dissipated, a minor flotilla of jellyfish descending to filter the water.

  Richard slowly turned towards me, his eyes looking odd, as though the weight of an age sat on his slippery shoulders.

  I didn’t, did I? With exaggerated slowness, he stuck out his tongue and slowly licked a black spot just under his eyestalk.

  “But Kreana?” I whispered, my voice barely floating across the expanding guilt that separated Richard and me. Kreana was the name of the snooty noble who’d become fish food, a fact which I had only learned when Leyla had sobbed it.

  Then the true horror set in as I watched Leyla try to get the bloodstains of her friend out of her dress: “The caravan.”

  Not that snootiness deserved death, but the caravan had upwards of fifty souls.

  Richard’s tentacles drooped. I’m [Immortal] not [All Knowing]. I did not know the tornado had sucked up a Heltenic aspen. His body undulated, oozing, as the fringe of his foot shifted uncomfortably. This is why I hate getting involved.

  Never, even in the clutches of Rhi and finding out that I was, in fact, Richard’s pet, had I felt the chasm between us so wide. He was a theoretical [Immortal], but helpless and incredibly dangerous. Silently hoarding his knowledge, knowing that an ill-thought moment could cause the destruction of countless lives, mine included.

  Instead of responding, I just stared out into the water, watching kelp wave in the current as friendlier-looking fish darted in and out. There was something mesmerizing about the gentle wave of the seaweed.

  “Cole?” My head jerked back to reality. What had I been thinking? I’d been talking to Richard about something. Tandy snapped her fingers, erasing all trace of the ghost of a thought I’d had.

  “What is it?” I asked irritably. I hated it when she snapped at me.

  “We’re going to say a few words about Kreana. You need to join us.” Tandy’s words cut through the remnants of fog. I bent down to pick up Richard, only to find him missing. Wasn’t he sitting right next to me? Fuzzily, I stood up and followed Tandy back to the rest of our party.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  They were sitting on the other side of the ox carcass, with a small magical campfire that Pops had stashed in his dimensional storage space. I really needed to get one of those. Richard sat on a log next to Ash, his coat glistening in the flickering blue firelight. The campfire put out a welcome, smokeless heat in the increasingly chilly environment.

  “Leyla, I think you should say a couple of words now that everyone’s here.” Argin’s soft words drifted over the silent campfire, as she gave me a tight smile acknowledging me joining the group. I sat down next to Meredeath, not wanting to interrupt the grieving youth leaning against Argin.

  “She was a jerk,” the green-clad noble, Leyla, said resolutely. “But she was a jerk because she cared. We had a formal chaperone, but the truth of it was that Kreana wasn’t going to get chosen. She was too old and crusty.” I tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. Kreana had to have been twenty, maybe twenty-five, hardly an old maid by frontier standards. “I was worried she was going to tank my own prospects.” The girl admitted in a small voice.

  Argin made a cooing noise, petting the girl’s head as she let out a snuffling sob.

  I felt a pang of sorrow for Kreana. By all rights, she seemed like a miserable person, but she and the caravan didn’t deserve this. They weren’t [Adventurers] tempting fate.

  “She s-sa-ved me. One of the Hunters took an interest. He was tall and handsome, you know? One of the Paladins of the Hunt. Good looking. They all were. The armor. Probably rich. And I was,” she trailed off for a moment, tear-covered cheeks glistening in the firelight. She wiped her face with the least dirty sleeve, streaking blood across her nose. “I was too stupid to know better.” Tandy and I shared a look, both our eyebrows raised.

  Tandy gently asked, “What was so bad about this guy from the Paladins of the Hunt? What did Kreana do?”

  “She did what she does best—insulted him.” The girl giggled at the remembrance. “She called him a swine for hire, told him his lineage wasn’t worth a piss in a pig trough.”

  “I’m beginning to like her,” Meredeath muttered next to me.

  “Yeah, the [Insert Paladin Group] are all berserkers for hire, willing to accomplish any hunt for pay.” She looked around the campfire, as though realizing that one of us might belong to the group. When none of us had the trappings of a paladin, the girl relaxed. “Kreana told me they operate for some dark god, hunting people down for the right price.” The girl shuddered. “I wouldn’t want to be tied to someone like that, even if I go home without prospects.”

  Argin patted her on the back as I thought about Leo. I’d been so angry that he’d chosen his path, I hadn’t considered that he might have wandered into a cult. If we survived this dungeon, I might have more to talk to Leo about than I initially thought.

  “Her tongue was sharp enough to cut through the bullshit,” Pops said, raising a tiny cup that suspiciously smelled like bourbon. Ash and Meredeath held their own camp cups up for the toast.

  The magical campfire didn’t snap or pop with combusted wood, it just silently burned as we all disassociated, watching the blue flame flicker. Kreana’s life had been distilled to a few sentences spoken by strangers and a bereft charge. My gaze swept over the huddled Meredeath and cloak-wrapped Tandy. This was not going to happen to us.

  Have you thought much about skill progression? Richard’s voice cut through my thoughts like a predator focusing on a single fish in a school. [Cheat Death] has wide-ranging possibilities, depending on which forks you explore.

  I hadn’t given it much thought. Forks in progression weren’t offered until a specialization was earned, and I hadn’t earned mine yet for [Dead Wrong]. A realization dawned on me, I now knew how specializations were achieved. Through practice.

  How many nails had I made in pursuit of the perfect form? The perfect hammering technique, not realizing I was literally hammering the nails into my own specialization coffin?

  Don’t forget, [Cheat Death] is off cooldown.

  It was as though Richard was reading my thoughts as I double-checked my stat sheet. Suddenly, I found myself standing, with the entire campfire looking at me.

  “We’re going to beat this dungeon and live.” Everyone stared at me as though I’d gone crazy. Maybe I had. “Ash, do you have anything I can use as a weapon in that inventory of yours? A spear?”

  Ash looked up, no longer haunted, as he began thinking through his storage.

  “I’ve got a stick,” Meredeath said as a long stick popped into the sand. It was six feet long and only a little crooked. That might do.

  “I can attach a dagger to that,” Ash interjected, a ball of twine appearing.

  “No, not a dagger, a sharp kitchen knife.” Tandy began rooting through her bag as a plan for a weapon took shape.

  Leyla, Argin, and Pops looked on as [Your Mom’s Party] got to work. Maybe it was the nature of [Adventurers] not to dwell on death. The prospect was as close to us as our morning cup of tea, and we just learned to live with it. Kreana, the caravan, was just the next in a long list of victims of the road.

  My eyes glanced at Richard as though I were forgetting something.

  I snapped my fingers, remembering suddenly. “Ash, didn’t you say you could make something explosive with those [Heartrees]?”

  My resolve built as I began pulling the party in to plan for our survival, even as I planned my death.

  Richard looked on, his yellow face glistening in the campfire.

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