“Do you have any idea where the forge might be?” Keaton finally asked. “That’s the biggest thing we need to find here, right?”
“Yes, and almost certainly the most prized location here. These ancient crypts are labyrinths, so there’s no telling where it is besides deeper in,” Cassia said.
Deeper in. That was helpful. Sighing, Keaton looked around. There were three paths exiting the room, one of which they’d just come from. The other two branched in opposite directions, and Keaton found himself wishing he’d actually taken that Sense ability. Maybe then he’d know where the highest concentration of minions was.
As it was, he had to rely on his instincts. And some commentary solicited from his own minions.
“These passages will likely link up,” Adriana said. “The minions need to be able to ascend quickly and in large numbers to combat a full-scale attack, so I do not imagine it matters which path we take further down.”
“I’m surprised we haven’t been jumped my more sentries, honestly,” Keaton said, knowing he’d likely pay for it later. “Everyone keep an eye out.”
He chose the right path and led his party down it, again keeping just out of the light’s circumference. At this level, the path finally started to open up to rooms. Bedchambers, from what he saw, with little lofts that looked almost like nests. There would have been something cute about them if they weren’t for massive snake people.
Stepping into one of the chambers to examine, something crunched beneath his boots. He lifted it to find a patch of shed snakeskin and tried to tamp down his natural urge to shudder.
“We should take that with us, just in case,” Adriana said, pocketing it with delight.
So long as it made her happy, Keaton would get over the fact that it made his own skin crawl. There wasn’t really anything of note in the bedchamber, though. The beds were fairly simple in design, and the only thing he could have seen stealing the design for were the ladders to reach the lofts, but that felt like a waste.
So he moved on, sticking with the group as they passed two more bedrooms. Adriana collected more skin, Cassia stood guard, and Keaton listened for anything he could hear deeper in.
Several rooms later, they finally came across something more than shed skin. The room was unassuming, looking from the outside just like all the others. But inside was stacked full of boxes, crates, bags, and chests. Keaton’s eyes widened as he took it all in.
“What’s the chance this is trapped?” he whispered as Cassia came up behind him.
“High. You, Orbon. Go check that chest at the center of the room.”
“Me not your minion, Emvola,” he groused.
“Yet you are in range of my halberd,” she emphasized this fact by prodding it toward him.
The lumbering creature let out a derisive snort, his crooked teeth clamping together as his jaws snapped shut in warning.
“Would you both knock it off? I’ll check it myself. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve disarmed traps.”
“A dungeon lord’s traps aren’t the same as a regular human’s, my lord,” Adriana started to protest. “They—”
Keaton had already stepped into the room. He pulled the scimitar from his belt and prodded at the chest, sliding the metal into the groove to pry it open. Every muscle in his body tensed, waiting for that cloud of poisonous smoke, or the spring-loaded poison dart, or maybe even some little gremlin curled inside the chest, poised to tear out his throat.
Valfast had used worse deterrents in the past.
But nothing happened. The adrenaline that pumped so suddenly through his veins faded, and Keaton gave a little shrug.
“Looks good. We—”
Keaton reeled from the sudden sensation of something inside his brain, clawing and gnawing in a desperate attempt to get out. His head felt like it was in a vice, being squeezed and squeezed until he was sure his skull would shatter. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, the pain so intense that he felt bile rise swiftly in the back of his throat.
Adriana was at his side in an instant, trying to hold him up as he swayed. Cassia appeared at his other side, lending him her strength as well. Still the world spun, and Keaton was only vaguely aware of a voice scraping the insides of his mind.
And what do you think you’re doing in my home, dungeon lord?
22
“We have to go. We must get Lord Keaton out of here before it is too late.”
“And allow this entire journey to be for nothing? He wouldn’t want such waste.”
“You have no idea what he would want!”
“And you do? You are no lieutenant, dragonling. You cannot even—”
Keaton let out a groan. The voices sounded thick and distant, like he was buried beneath a thousand blankets and people were shouting at his bedside. He wanted to stay buried, honestly. He felt awful.
But as more awareness returned, he realized that his people needed him. Ideally before they tore each other apart.
“Stop,” he managed weakly, his throat not wanting to work. Keaton coughed and tried again. “Stop.”
“Lord Keaton!”
The relief in Adriana’s voice was palpable, and when he forced his eyes open — swollen, it seemed — she was kneeling beside him, her own golden eyes full of concern. She reached out, her fingers warm on his face, the tips of her claws just barely scratching over his skin in a way he found more soothing than anything else.
Then she realized what she was doing and drew back, a blush on her cheeks.
“Oh good, you’re not dead,” Cassia said.
He let out a dry laugh. “Good to know you care.”
Everyone was standing around him. Cassia and her three warriors, along with the hobgoblin, though his attention moved between Keaton and the door.
“Dragonkin right,” he said. “We been here too long. Dungeon lord know where we are.”
The dungeon lord. A splitting pain flared to life behind Keaton’s eyes. There was something he needed to remember, something about this place and its lord, but what was it? Every time he tried to access it, he felt that same bone-deep pain that made his stomach twist into knots.
“Then we will kill them,” Cassia said matter-of-factly, her attention returning to Keaton. “I know you brought us here to scavenge, but if we kill the dungeon lord, this whole place is ours.”
“I just woke up from whatever happened to me. I don’t even know what was in these chests,” Keaton said. “Can I just have a minute to—”
“Hissers!” the hobgoblin bellowed with a snarl.
He leapt into action, surprisingly spry for how large he was. In the flash of movement, Keaton was only able to see a snakekin sent flying, its back slamming against the wall of the storage chamber before the hobgoblin followed to pin it, his jaws open and dripping saliva.
“Pleasssse! I am here to help, pleassse do not hurt me!”
The voice was young and feminine, with an underlying hiss that extended every “s” sound. A fork tongue flared out when the snakekin spoke, and she turned her head away from Orbon, her eyes wide as she looked at Keaton imploringly.
Considering the state he found himself in, Keaton was half tempted to let the hobgoblin do whatever he was going to do. He quickly snapped out of it, though, and even had the presence of mind to feel like shit for having that thought to begin with.
“Let her go,” he ordered.
Cassia’s reaction was immediate. “Are you mad? She is baiting you, waiting for you to reveal your weakness and—”
“She was already in the room before anyone noticed her,” Keaton shot back. “If she wanted to hurt us, she had plenty of opportunity to do so.”