“Hey! Shopkeep! We’re back, and we’ve got some questions for you!” Aeshma yelled, as she tugged open the wooden door at the top landing. My eyes burned as they slowly adapted to the well-lit shop. The journey back up to the surface had gone a lot faster than I expected, I guess because we didn’t have to lag behind a Gremlin platoon.

  “Kindly lay off the shouting before you scare all my customers away,” said the shopkeeper. He was standing right where we left him behind the front counter. “Now then, I take it you’ve completed your Quest? The…” He dropped his voice down to a whisper as his eyes darted to a pair of customers at the far end of the store. “The Gremlins. You’ve exterminated them?”

  “Well, yes and no,” Aeshma said, not bothering to lower her voice. “So, your Cellar Gremlins are–”

  “Shh, shh! Come on, not so loud!”

  Aeshma rolled her eyes, but obliged him and dropped down to a whisper. “The Gremlins are going nuts down there. They’ve made this bizarro religion around you and your supplies – and they think that us two are, like, your divine servants? They even have a King, who–”

  “Wait, you haven’t cleared them out?” the merchant interrupted. “You came back up here just to… to share facts about the society of the Gremlins infesting my storerooms?”

  I tried to smooth things over. “Uh, no sir, that’s not why we’re here. It was my idea, you see. I thought we could try to rehome the Gremlins first, convince them to leave, before we… uh, resorted to killing them all.”

  “Of course. Instead of the very simple task I assigned you, you invented a nonsensical one to perform in its stead.”

  I wasn’t giving up that easily. “Sir, the Gremlins… they think you’re a god. They would listen to you. If you were to personally go downstairs–”

  “Boy, listen to me. Cellar Gremlins don’t leave cellars. Okay? They just don’t.” He sighed as he placed a hand gently on my shoulder. “You say they’ve made me into their god, right? If I told them to leave, they’d either reject my divinity and destroy my cellar in retaliation, or they’d take it as a test of faith and double-down on infesting the place. Either way, my cellar would end up trashed. There’s no getting around it.”

  “Oh,” I said meekly.

  The shopkeeper squinted at Aeshma. “You, Succubus, why would you go along with this foolishness? Shouldn’t you know better?”

  She shrugged. “Hey pal, just because I’m a Monster, you think I know everything about every other kind of Monster?”

  The merchant sighed again, more deeply this time, as he released my shoulder. “Okay. Maybe my initial instructions weren’t clear enough. Let’s try again. I don’t care about the Mimics. The ones in my storeroom haven’t troubled me in the slightest. And if they start to, I’ll hire another team – an experienced one,” he added, directing a stern gaze our way, “– to handle it.”

  The pair of customers at the back seemed to have noticed the shopkeeper’s aggrieved tone and were looking at us curiously. The shopkeeper put on a friendly, polite smile and gave them a wave.

  He dropped his voice even lower and continued talking to Aeshma and me out of the corner of his mouth. “It’s ridiculous that we’re even having this conversation. The only thing I want from you two is to get those varmints cleared out. Yes? Okay? Then go! Go on!”

  He shooed us towards the cellar door.

  Aeshma raised her eyebrows at me; it was my call. I took a deep breath. “One request. It’s a complicated situation, and I’m sure you don’t really want to hear about it–”

  “You would be correct.”

  “But it’s critically important to the whole Gremlin extermination Quest, that you at least point us in the direction of the Grand Vault,” I finished.

  The shopkeeper’s eyebrows slid up his forehead. “And why is that?”

  “Uhhhh….” I looked to Aeshma for help. I had never been very good at coming up with lies on the spot. And the truth wasn’t gonna cut it here.

  “Look!” Aeshma interrupted. “This is a delicate geopolitical situation we’re dealing with down there. If we don’t get to the Grand Vault, and soon, the whole thing is gonna boil over! You won’t even have a cellar to have… uh, in which to have Gremlins in!”

  “I’m sure I don’t want to know why you need to go to the Vault,” the shopkeeper sighed.

  “To parlay–” I began.

  “Enough. I don’t care. If it will get the Gremlins out of my cellar, I will tell you where to go. Just… be quick about it, won’t you?”

  “Great!” Aeshma said with a grin. “Just scribble down some directions and we’ll be all outta your hair.”

  The shopkeeper pulled open a drawer, grabbed a quill and a fresh scroll, and got to scribbling.

  –

  “Dude, you’re sure this is the right way?” Aeshma asked as we passed out of a tight hallway into some kind of ruined bank teller room, complete with rotting rugs leading to an even more decrepit wood counter.

  We’d been making our way back through the cellar for about forty-five minutes now – and it seemed like Aeshma was starting to get bored. She had stopped to ask me if we were going the right way at least five times in as many minutes. It was like she was happier when we were in mortal peril.

  “If you don’t believe me, you can look for yourself,” I said, slapping the unfurled map. “Here’s the weird twisty, hallway we just came from. Here’s the room we’re in now – and look! Three doors!” I pointed to the doors on the map, then at their counterparts in real life. “Okay? We’re going the right way. And if you don’t believe me, then you can be the navigator instead!” I thrust the map towards her.

  “Sheesh! No, no, keep it!” she said, throwing her hands up in the air and refusing to take the map. “I just hope we get there soon. Dinner at the Rusty Mug is calling my name.”

  –

  A wall of stench hit us as we re-entered the room we’d lost the Gremlins in. “And we're back!” I said, before throwing up in my mouth a little. “Oh my god, Aeshma, it smells so bad in here. Lets just – UGH – get out – URK! – through this way,” I sputtered out between retches. I started jogging for the far wall, to a door which, according to the map, was the shortest route to our destination.

  “Uhh, woah this is trippy. How come… hm. How come we came in through a different door? You know, different than the one we came in from before, when Bimbool was leading us,” Aeshma said. Somehow, the stench of dead Gremlins and festering Mimic ichor didn’t seem to be fazing her.

  “We came from a different – HURK! – direction this time. ‘Cause we started from… from the shop. Oh man, please hurry up!” I said, now outright sprinting for the exit.

  Aeshma shook her head and smiled, but she picked up the pace until we reached the exit. I pulled open the door, slipped through – and once Aeshma had mosied in, slammed it shut. Then I leaned against the wall and gulped down chestfuls of glorious, untainted air. I had never been so glad to smell damp basement and dust.

  Aeshma was staring at me impatiently. “C’mon dude, it wasn’t even that bad. Besides, we oughta keep moving. Who knows if this is even the right way to the Vault.”

  “Hold on, this is definitely how the map says to get to the Grand Vault.”

  She folded her arms. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.”

  “No, it totally is,” I said. “It… wait, Aeshma, can you not read a map?”

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  She was looking pointedly away from me, her lilac skin seeming to flush a dark burgandy. She muttered something under her breath – in a voice that sounded suspiciously like an imitation of mine.

  “What was that?”

  She stomped her foot defiantly. “I said no I can’t read a stupid map!”

  “Oh.” Now I felt bad about how I ragged on her earlier. “But… you said you’re a hundred and eighteen years old. How have you not–”

  “It’s not something they taught us at Succubus Camp, okay?”

  “I’d think at a camp, that’s one of the things they’d specifically teach you how to do.”

  “Hey buddy, they taught us plenty. Seductive killing, seductive canoe-paddling… not to mention seductive tree chopping.”

  “Seductive… tree chopping?” That was something I would have to see to believe.

  “Yeah, I even got my mastery badge for it. Why? Oh, is someone into logging?” she teased. “You wanna see me chop, chop, chop down a mighty oak?” With every word she mimed a surprisingly sultry ax swing.

  “What? No! I was just curious. I wasn’t saying you had to show me anything. Uh, any techniques, I mean.”

  “Oh no?” she said with a sly smile. “You don’t want to see… this?” Her sandals scuffed along the ground as she assumed a wide, powerful stance and mimed chopping a log in half. It was a reasonably saucy display, all things considered. Not that I was planning on telling her I thought so, at least not until I saw whether the technique was any good for actually chopping wood.

  “Ha! You’re blushing, dude.”

  “I am not,” I shot back. “Let’s just keep moving.”

  Aeshma winked and fell in step behind me. Now that we were so close to the Vault, I found myself glancing at every stray tile, every light fixture on the walls, trying to assess whether it was a Mimic. So far, everything seemed to be as it appeared.

  But… so deep in what the Gremlin King had described as Mimic territory, wasn’t that weird?

  “Aeshma? Where are all the Mimics?” I asked

  “Eh. Maybe they all scuttled off because of the big dead one stinkin’ the place up. Or maybe they’re avoiding the two of us in particular. I bet they’d rather pick a fight with helpless little Gremlins than – you know, anyone who’s a real threat,” she said.

  That made sense. But it seemed like Aeshma was the only one of us who posed any kind of threat in combat. I would’ve been easy pickings if the Mimics decided they were hungry for my tender, Level Zero flesh.

  “Do you really think we’ll be able to convince the Mimics to drive the Gremlins away?” I asked.

  “Look, Roland, we’re gonna do fine. Seriously. It’s a Mimic. It’s not gonna be some kinda genius negotiator.”

  I wiped a bead of sweat off my forehead. I’d spent so much energy trying to navigate to the Vault, I’d hardly thought about what I’d actually say once we got there. Would we be able to convince the Gremlins to let us talk to the Mimic alone? And even if we could… what if the shopkeeper was right, and the Gremlins couldn’t be convinced to leave no matter what? “I’m starting to think this wasn’t such a good idea,” I admitted.

  “Chin up, dude, it’ll probably work out just like you planned. Or, you know, it’ll lead the gremlins to go on a suicidal crusade against the Mimics. Or maybe they’ll attack the shopkeeper? Like, Oh, the Stocker has forsaken us!” Aeshma said, scratching her jaw in thought. “Ooh! Or maybe they’ll submit to being eaten by the Mimics! Like, to join the Stocker’s glorious eternal cellar!”

  I sighed. “Best-case scenario, they abandon their religion, abandon their home, and live out a miserable existence in someone else’s cellar.”

  Aeshma shrugged. “As long as they’re gone, we get credit for the Quest.” We turned another corner into a long, high-ceilinged hallway which ended in a simple wooden door.

  I took another glance at the map – and saw that we had arrived. The door we were approaching was the entrance to the Grand Vault. Bimbool said the platoon would wait for us by here… but still the Gremlins were nowhere in sight.

  Then I heard something shuffle on the ground. Aeshma and I both swiveled, ready for a fight – just in time to see one of the tiles lifting up from the floor.

  “Aeshma, look out!” I screamed, ready to hide behind Aeshma while she tussled with another tile-Mimic.

  But it wasn’t a Mimic at all. The tile clattered to the side and a gaggle of fluffy, misty-eyed Gremlins pushed their heads out from a hidden compartment underneath the floor, General Bimbool among them.

  “M- Messengers? You s-survived?” Bimbool whispered. “When you did not return, we feared the worst.”

  “Bimbool! Oh, wow!” I said, as more and more little faces popped up into the hallway. There must have been at least a dozen of them squeezed in down there. “I’m… we’re really sorry it took us so long to find you. We, uh…”

  Obviously I didn’t want to tell them that we had popped upstairs to get directions; it simply wasn’t becoming of beings of our alleged stature. “We… umm… when we killed the Mimic, its body fell right on top of us. And crushed us… to death!”

  Gasps rang out from the platoon. It seemed like they were buying it.

  “When we died, we were… sent back upstairs,” I continued. “You know, to be with the Stocker? So the reason we’re so late, uh, is that we had to walk all the way back here. From our afterlife. With the Stocker.” A few of the Gremlins murmured to each other and nodded approvingly. The lie seemed to fit in well with their existing religious notions.

  “Uh huh. And now we’re back and we’re ready to parlay and everything,” said Aeshma. “So… let’s go. Chop chop.”

  “Of c-course, Messengers! Right away!” squeaked Bimbool. She pushed herself the rest of the way out of the hole she was hiding in and scampered down the hall, trailed by the rest of the platoon. She reared up and pulled open the wooden door. “After you, of course!”

  Aeshma and I stepped over the threshold – and into a surprisingly inviting, well-lit hallway. The place was immaculate, free of the dust, debris, and flecks of mold I’d come to expect down here. Even the mural that decorated the high, vaulted ceiling looked fresh and vibrant, like it had been recently repainted. It even smelled nicer than the rest of the cellar.

  Most intriguing of all, the hallway terminated in a story-high vault door, wrought from burnished bronze and covered in delicate gold filigree. A large, spoked wheel was set at about shoulder-height, with a keyhole at its center.

  I couldn’t figure out why it was so… well, nice in here, compared to the rest of the cellar. Was this room being magically preserved, somehow? Or was someone coming by and tidying the place up? I couldn’t imagine why someone would bother.

  A bead of sweat was trickling down Aeshma’s horned forehead. That didn’t bode well. But before I could ask her about it, General Bimbool piped up from behind us. “Hear us, oh lord of defilers!” she screamed. “We have returned – and this time, we come with agents of the Stocker himself! Throw open your gates, you wretched beast! I demand that you grant us audience!” For emphasis, Bimbool struck the wall with the pommel of her dagger.

  “Oh, not you lot again,” a deep voice boomed out from behind the heavy door. “I told you all to stop bothering me. Wait… how’d you get past Gromgor?”

  Bimbool puffed out her chest. “Gromgor is dead! Your feeble minion was slain effortlessly by the Stocker’s Messengers. Should you refuse our request to parlay, you will soon join him!”

  A rough creaking noise droned from beyond the vault. I caught an indistinct flash of movement behind the keyhole. “Hrmm. I didn’t like Gromgor much anyway. Hey, you two! Yeah, you in the back! What’s your deal? Y’here to threaten me, too?”

  “Us? No, we–”

  “Yes, of course they are!” Bimbool responded on our behalf. Aeshma and I exchanged a wide-eyed glance. “So open the gates, foul creature, and we will discuss the terms of your departure from this land – or else, of your departure from this life!” The rest of the platoon erupted in hoots and hollers.

  “CAN IT, you pests! I wanna talk to the tall ones!” The door rumbled on its hinges, shaking the whole hallway around us. The Gremlins piped down, cowed. “What’re folks like you doing helping Cellar Gremlins? Somebody owns the basement they live in, y’know. They’re squatters.”

  “H-hi, Mimic sir, we… uh, my friend and I… uh, she’s named Aeshma, by the way, and I’m Roland. And came down here in order to, uh…”

  It was pretty unnerving, talking to a door. It was worse talking to a door that I knew could eat me on a whim.

  “We want to resolve this situation peacefully, Mimic!” Aeshma cut in. She subtly nodded towards the Gremlin platoon. “Maybe we could have a private chat, just the three of us, to settle everything up?”

  “Messenger, no! It’s far too dangerous to go alone!” Bimbool shouted. “Let us come with you! Let us attend the meeting, to watch with our own eyes as our ancestral foe is driven from the Stocker’s lands once and for all!”

  Aeshma looked to me for help. Apparently she hadn’t expected the Gremlins to insist on coming in with us.

  “No, you… uh, you can’t,” I said to Bimbool, “Because… the Mimic will only parlay with the Messengers. No one else. Uh, right?” I asked, looking at the door.

  “Sure, yeah, whatever,” said the door.

  Bimbool’s face went taut. “I see. Of course, Messengers. We will await your return. Platoon – with me!” Then she turned on her heel and marched the platoon back out of the hallway.

  As soon as the last Gremlin was out of earshot, a faint metallic groan came from the door as the vault wheel started spinning. “Those Cellar Gremlins are a stubborn lot. Rubbish neighbors, too.”

  CLANK

  The wheel came to a stop and the vault door slowly swung inward. “Alrighty folks, come on in! I will not eat you, I promise!”

  I wasn’t feeling so sure about this anymore. But Aeshma clapped me on the back and gave me a wink that clearly said: “Don’t worry about it, Roland. I can handle this Mimic if I have to. You’re safe with me.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Let's hash this out,” I sighed.

  “What? I didn’t say anything,” Aeshma said.

  “You – uh, no, you’re right.”

  Side-by-side, we stepped inside the vault.

  NOTABLE MONSTERS

  --------------------------------

  Galfazore LV50

  Ancestry: Monster

  Class: Integrated Mimic

  Notable Perks:

  Domain - You have total control of the appearance of the space inside your body.

  Spread - Extend your body through adjacent surfaces. Gain experience for every square meter you assimilate.

  Flash Digestion - Flood your interior with digestive juices and consume anything inside.