I paused to pet the Mastiff one more time, left him another steak, then headed back up to the tip of the little valley. On the way, I pulled up my Class Spells menu.

  My class was still so new, I’d barely explored its full potential. I’d hardly cast any of my new class spells, with my mana being locked for much of the floor. Cascading Force was proving very useful with its random extra force strikes, and I love the flexibility Elemental Harmony offered by adding elemental powers to other spells using potions.

  I wasn’t so sure about Ace Arcana though. The ability to pre-cast a spell, scroll, or potion and have it ready to go instantly had sounded fantastic, but honestly, most of my spells were quick-casting spells anyway. With my hugely expanded inventory, I had a hotlist 50 grid squares wide, so I could keep most of my potions and single-use scrolls already available most of the time. Maybe it was time to try something else. I made a change.

  “You have successfully swapped Ace Arcana with Spellforge. Spellforge will become active in 10 minutes.”

  “Interesting choice,” Cyrus commented.

  I shrugged. “I want to try out the other spells to see which one fits my fighting style best. I think Spellforge could be a better fit, especially now that I have Echo.”

  My rare short sword description said it would echo whatever force I applied through it. Hopefully it would also echo spells when applied to the blade with Spellforge. I took a moment to review the spell description.

  “Spellforge. Cast up to 1 spell plus 1 spell per level of Spellforge onto an appropriate weapon for use as a physical fulcrum to unleash the final synergized spell. Mana cost: minor.”

  The spell was only level 1 so far, but I might be able to rope in more spells using my Spellweaver ability to make uncommon synergies. If I got really lucky, I might be able to link it with my Elemental Harmony spell too. That could be very powerful, unleashing a spell with elemental boosts, plus potentially a second spell to synergize, all unleashed through my sword that would then hit my target a second time with the combined final spell using its echo ability.

  Honestly, that Spellweaver ability was proving the pivotal element of my class. It allowed me to meld multiple spells, and maybe more, which should result in stacking damage. I had some fun ideas I was eager to try on Alpha later that might help negate his many advantages.

  As I scanned my inventory, I noticed something else and grinned. “In for a penny . . .”

  “Positive outlook in life,” Cyrus said. “Similar to the old Greek saying, ‘I joined the dancing, so I’d better dance’.”

  “Is that a thing?” I’d never heard of that.

  “If you prefer, you could say, ‘Give me victory or kill me trying.”

  “There’s a whole lot wrong with that.”

  “And yet, am I wrong?”

  On the way out of the hidden valley, I held the Tidal Nexus close to the waterfall thundering down into the gap in the ground and let another ghostly clone fall down. It disappeared into the depths, along with the water. That seemed the perfect spot to capture a bit of hydraulic power.

  By the time I returned to the larger canyon, night was deepening and distant howls announced the wolf pack on the hunt. Definitely looked like I’d been right. The werewolves preferred hunting at night.

  With a bit of focused will, Nigel popped into view. The fluffy death kitten was lying on his back, legs sprawling, chin tipped up, eyes closed. I’d never seen him look so relaxed.

  “Welcome back.”

  He jumped, springing 6 feet straight off the ground and twisting in midair. I caught him and laughed at the sight of a pink ribbon tied onto the fur between his ears. “What’s this?”

  Nigel swelled to full size, his shaggy hair concealing the bit of ribbon. “Uh, nothing! You finished early. Are you . . .” His voice trailed off and he sniffed deeply. His voice fell to a dangerous growl. “What did you do with that dog?”

  I reached out to pet him, but he recoiled, growling again, his tail swishing back and forth behind him in obvious agitation.

  I sighed. “I’m glad you weren’t there to see it, buddy. I got the loot, but I needed to make a terrible sacrifice.”

  His tail froze and he crouched, head dipping lower. “You didn’t have to . . .”

  I nodded, and it took the focused effort of all of my enhanced Widsom and body control from my physical stats to keep my expression pained. “I had to . . . To pet him.”

  “No!” Nigel gasped, recoiling so hard he fell over backward. As he rolled, he shrunk to his kitten size, then jumped all the way up into my arms.

  “There was no other way.” I should have gotten a new acting ability from that performance.

  “We should have killed him! No one should be forced to go through that torture.”

  “I know. It was one of the worst sacrifices I’ve had to make so far,” I agreed in a somber tone.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  He licked my face, then grimaced. I had never realized cats could grimace. He coughed, spat an actual hairball, and jumped out of my arms. “You reek of despicable dog. I should go kill it now.”

  “No. Let’s not return to that valley again.” I pulled a Laundray Day potion out of my inventory and dumped it over my head. The pulsing warmth of the cleaning magic felt as amazing as always, and this time it washed away the lingering scent of the Mastiff.

  “I’m glad you sent me away. I would not have tolerated any dog forcing you to lower yourself,” Nigel said, jumping back into my arms again.

  “That’s not the only reason you were happy I sent you away. Five minutes and you were reduced to mush, with ribbons in your hair. I can’t leave you alone at all, can I?”

  Nigel jumped up to my shoulder and rubbed his furry body against the side of my head. “Um, we should get going.”

  “Right.” I gave him one more rub behind the ear. “Want me to remove this ribbon?”

  He hesitated. “Ruby said it was for good luck.”

  “Then we leave it.”

  I called Switchblade and we powered up the canyon and deeper into the mountains. The werewolves would soon find my trail and start the chase all too soon. I could use wolfsbane, but I wanted them chasing me. Not catching me, though. At least not until I figured out how to even the odds a bit.

  As we rode up another canyon that climbed even higher into the mountains, with taller peaks rising on both sides, Nigel froze. We were passing the mouth of a narrow, steep ravine, clogged with trees and very thick, spiny bushes. All the shaggy hair along the his spine stood straight up and he cringed back against me.

  “What is it?” I whispered, slowing Switchblade, senses alert, ready to fight.

  The little guy was shaking, his gaze locked on that ravine. “Death Stalker. We should leave quickly before it senses us.”

  “The thing that ignites itself when it feeds?”

  “It is a lot worse. I was not joking when I said they are most scary.”

  “Worse than that Tempest Mastiff?”

  “Far worse.”

  That would be really bad. “What is a Death Stalker?”

  Nigel finally looked away from the ravine to stare at me. “Who cares? I’ve sensed its hunger and glimpsed its fire. I was a long way off and still ran. The only ones who see a Death Stalker are those who feed it.”

  “Fair enough. I agree we shouldn’t fight that thing, but that doesn’t mean we won’t use it.”

  “You’ve been a decent master. I do not wish to have to find another one.” He paused, tilting his head in that adorable way of his. “Although Ruby’s hands are far more gentle and she always seems to know exactly where to scratch me.”

  Little turncoat. Not that I blamed him. “Fine. Wait here for a minute. If I get snatched and killed, go to Ruby.”

  “What are you going to do?” Nigel asked, fear back in his voice. He really didn’t want me going anywhere near that ravine. His obvious fear spiked my curiosity and confirmed my half-formed plan was worth a try.

  “I’m going to see if I can get the Death Stalker to help me spring a trap on those pesky werewolves.”

  As if to punctuate my words, howls rose in undulating waves from the first canyon we’d climbed earlier. The pack had found our scent and were closing even faster than I’d anticipated. They’d catch up in moments.

  Nigel clearly didn’t like it, but we didn’t have time to waste arguing. I couldn’t deal with Alpha and his pack all together.

  Jumping off Switchblade, I activated Mirror Cloak and triggered a wolfsbane potion. Now that the pack was after us and following my scent, it was time to make life harder for them. Invisible, with my scent blocked, I crept into the first rows of trees in the ravine. They were small, gnarled, and close together, with underbrush clogging the space between them.

  The area felt wrong. Nothing tangible, just a creeping sense of unease. I’d ignored the signs around Bristleback’s hidden valley and nearly died. These signs were more subtle, but reinforced Nigel’s fear. I was entering the domain of a very dangerous monster. I slowed, redoubling my caution.

  I wasn’t sure if wolfsbane would help hide my scent from other creatures, but it couldn’t hurt. Every sense alert, I eased into the trees and activated Spellseer’s Gaze. The entire ravine lit up with dense mana. Usually Gaze made the world seem deeper, all colors more vibrant. Within the monochrome world of Mirror Cloak where most light did not reach me, the boring gradients of black and white deepened into endless variations of gray.

  I breathed deep and slow, focusing on my mana sense as I studied the dense clouds of mana packed among the trees. The air smelled of trees and earth, as expected, but also carried a powerful scent of something foul. Rot, like in a bog. Outside of the marsh area near Noctarus’s castle, I had not found much rotting vegetation, but that ravine was not healthy. Black lines of decay marbled the trees, while leaves curled inward, stained a mottle brown.

  The unsettling scent made the ravine feel sick, like a festering wound under a thick bandage. Even the mana felt odd. I expected to find mostly earth mana and maybe some life mana, but the thick clouds of mana pressed in among the heavy undergrowth was a kind I had not felt before. Dark and heavy with decay, it felt like Death mana. Was that a thing? Or maybe Rot mana. I guess death mana made sense for the lair of a Death Stalker.

  I didn’t see any flares of spells being cast, caught no hint of movement or whisper of sound. If the Death Stalker knew I’d entered its domain, it hadn’t moved to attack yet, not that I could sense anyway. Moving with deliberate slowness, I brushed my hand against a couple leaves, then realized I was an idiot. I wouldn’t leave my scent there. I’d already taken wolfsbane.

  So I pulled a knife from my inventory, peeled off one glove, and jabbed the tip of the knife into my thumb. A single drop of blood oozed out and I wiped it on a leaf.

  Deep in the ravine, something stirred and the death mana around me billowed from an invisible wind. Branches creaked ominously and the air suddenly felt heavy. Soft wind started wafting out from the depths of the ravine, slow and thick with the scent of decay. Then it wafted back in, like some invisible giant was taking a deep breath.

  Yeah, that totally freaked me out. Time to go. That drop of blood would lead the werewolves in, but I’d also drawn the attention of the Death Stalker. Not a monster I wanted to deal with yet.

  I backed out of the ravine, watching every flicker of leaves for any sign of a monster preparing to pounce. I’d fought a lot of monsters, but my pulse still quickened as I scanned that dark ravine. It felt dangerous, and I had no idea what a Death Stalker was or what it could do.

  Not until I reached Nigel did I breathe a bit easier. The poor little guy was shaking with fear and jumped to my shoulder, nuzzling my neck. “That was foolish. The Death Stalker knows we are here.”

  “It was worth it.” Especially since I hadn’t gotten killed. “And we’re leaving.”

  I banished Switchblade, then used Tether Slide to whisk us up to a shelf of rock high on a nearby cliff. The mountain rose thousands of feet higher, but the shelf extended back more than 10 feet and provided a perfect vantage to overlook the ravine.

  From that height, I could see the entire length of the ravine. The narrow, steep, clogged crack between solid rock faces only ran a couple hundred yards up the mountain before dead-ending against another cliff. It made a perfect spot for a powerful monster’s lair.

  Even better, the wind was cooperating, blowing up toward me. The Death Stalker could smell the werewolves coming, but none of them could smell me.

  Nigel plopped down on the stone at the lip of the shelf where I sat. I scratched behind his ears.

  Eyes locked on the ravine, he said softly, “Now we wait.”