Through traps and around adventurers, they charged. The rest of the Knight Stations were only occupied by Convent devotees and random adventurers.

  “Witmie, have you ever considered becoming a professional map maker?” Thesa asked the rabbit-eared half-elf after the party snuck past [Floor] 30 with ease. Having gone completely unnoticed, the party stopped to catch its breath while Merijest scouted around a nearby corner to check for more traps.

  “I don't know,” Witmie shrugged bashfully. “My drawings are pretty messy.”

  “Well these are just first drafts, right? With these kinds of notes you could iterate until you're happy with it,” Thesa suggested.

  “Maybe…” Witmie replied. “How about this, I’ll start looking into becoming a professional mapmaker as soon as you tell Merijest how you feel about her.” She smirked.

  Thesa's face reddened. “What, no, what? How did this turn on me?” She looked away. “What would I even say?”

  “Just tell her you wanna smooch,” Witmie said.

  Thesa covered her now-crimson face. “I probably wouldn't word it like that.”

  “Say you wanna bang,” Durn chimed in.

  “This isn't helping!”

  “Ok, but for real,” Witmie reassured. “We believe in you. Just say it how you would say it. Be yourself and all that.”

  Before Thesa could reply, the Foxtapus let out a low growl and its ears perked up. The Bronze Motif shook, its body jingling as if full of coins. Back down the long corridor, Thesa heard the muffled voice of Kelreyn.

  The party immediately broke into as quiet a run as they could muster, catching up to Merijest and darting for the next set of stairs.

  [Floor] 27 was split into two sections by a long corridor covered in mud.

  “This looks different than the maps I drew,” Witmie sighed.

  “These higher [Floors] are more likely to shift when left empty for any amount of time,” Merijest explained. “It’s no matter.”

  Durn carried Witmie on her shoulders. The Foxtapus floated across with Yabba perched precariously on its back. Merijest and the Bronze Motif hovered. The demoness offered to carry Thesa across, but Thesa was worried she'd like it too much.

  “The mud isn't really that bad,” Thesa lied, trudging with each step.

  “Whatever you say, kitten,” Merijest sighed. “Just say the word and I'll pick you up. It really wouldn't be a problem.”

  Thesa blushed a lot. The more she really considered the possibility of sharing her feelings with the demoness, the more the little things flustered her all over again.

  “Oh, it's fine,” she lied. “I'm totally fi–Woah! OW!” Thesa's foot had met a strange resistance in the mud and, distracted by Merijest, she hadn't stopped herself from putting her whole weight on the pressure plate mechanism of a hunting trap. As the iron jaws clamped on her leg, Thesa cried out in pain. The heavy metal teeth had crunched through her boots, twisting the frayed, broken metal in on her skin.

  Merijest tried to give her [Witch] a lift, but any motion caused the pain to skyrocket.

  “Shit! We do not have time for this trap,” Durn said, looking backward. The half-dwarf had stopped moving in case another set of metal teeth was waiting in her path.

  As Merijest pulled away the mud around Thesa's leg, Witmie shouted, “Look out!”

  Extending from the ceiling were what appeared to be gloved, humanoid hands on the end of fleshy vines. They snaked through the air toward the party. Thesa groaned in pain as she flung her Menthic Axe toward one of the hands, barely nicking it before the weapon returned.

  ***

  ***

  Witmie quickly donned a pair of shining gauntlets and started punching at the incoming limbs. “Durn, do you think we could get closer to Thesa?” Durn nodded, beginning the careful trek.

  The Foxtapus set off a single burst of spinning magic, all it could muster while floating in the air.

  The Bronze Motif swerved this way and that, avoiding stray attempts to grapple it.

  The pain in Thesa's leg was staggering, even for her. Still she managed to cast [Minor Aid] on herself to keep from passing out.

  As more hands slinked down from the dark ceiling, Merijest fired a volley of icicles. “Thesa, can you use your [Dive] ability?”

  “It won't reach far enough to ensure I don't end up in another trap,” Thesa said through gritted teeth.

  “That's easy,” Witmie said, grabbing a fleshy limb out of the air in one hand and whacking it with her other armored fist. “Just use it to teleport into Merijest's arms.”

  Thesa tried to come up with an excuse. When the first of the arms tried to grab her shoulder, her breastplate activated [Back Up] to reclaim some distance. Still, she wouldn’t be able to use that again and in the end she couldn’t deny the utility of [Diving] into the arms of her the demoness.

  Merijest expertly dodged more incoming limbs and after dropping off Thesa (who was so flustered she forgot how bad her leg hurt), Merijest carried Witmie over the mud as well before heading back for Durn.

  “See,” Witmie said. “She was more than happy to carry you.”

  “She carried you, too,” Thesa replied. “And she's going back for Durn right now.”

  Witmie shrugged. “Maybe you didn't notice the deep expression of care and worry on her face while she was taxiing you. It’s clear she cares for all of her [Familiars] but you are definitely her favorite.”

  Thesa pouted, but a swelling of soreness and stinging in her leg took over her attention. When Merijest arrived back with Durn, the [Sorcerer] used a minor healing spell to seal the wound. Bits of metallic shrapnel were disgorged as pink flesh came back together. The skin was still raw, and Thesa was in no position to run.

  The Foxtapus, who had landed, was now working at full capacity to counter the last of the strange ceiling hands alongside the Bronze Motif’s volley of magic coins flinging at high speeds.

  Yabba was showing off a new ability: spitting what appeared to be a small dead bird from the face hole above its perch-nose. The speed of ejection was only enough to send the little corpse a foot or two from the Nest Walker. This wasn't helping, but again, the thought was nice?

  Before they could even consider resting on their momentary laurels, the sound of clanging Knight armor sent them forward again, Thesa comfortably nestled in Merijest's arms.

  The demoness could heal the wound more effectively as soon as they got a real chance to rest, but her healing magic, while more comprehensive, was less acute than Durn’s.

  ***

  Sneaking past [Floor] 25 might have been a bigger hurdle except there was nobody there. Not a single Convent devotee remained at the now abandoned Knight Station.

  “What happened here?” Thesa wondered aloud.

  “I have a guess,” Merijest groaned. “It’s possible they sent word back for all the Convent’s allies to gather at the entrance. With Peter and Kelreyn closing in behind us, they're trying to lead us into a [Raid].”

  “I think you may be onto something,” Witmie said, taking a flier off the deserted table which read ‘Return to Entrance! Demon [Raid]!’ in big letters.

  “How exactly are we getting past a whole [Raid]?” Durn asked. Still lacking proper time to rest, the party continued moving as they discussed.

  “Well,” Merijest sighed. “I'm not completely sure. But the Twin Stars are able to lend us assistance in getting away from ItherBeau as soon as we make it past that entrance.”

  “Does the actual entrance to an Imitative Cavern ever change?” Thesa asked.

  “Not if there's heavy foot traffic,” Merijest explained. “It should look the same as when your party entered,” she said, looking at Witmie and Durn.

  Still sitting on her girlfriend's shoulders, Witmie opened her notebook.

  “All of the chambers were clear of anything notable when we went through, so I just lettered them all,” Witmie sighed. “We might have to fight through the winding corridors.” Leave it to the first [Floor] of a [Dungeon] to be utterly trivial...

  “I'm not so sure,” Merijest said. “They might put some resistance in the corridors, but they won't give up the opportunity to funnel us at the actual mouth of the [Dungeon]. It's a powerful strategic position.”

  Thesa nodded. “Funneling was like the first tactical lesson as a Knight, so I think you're probably right, Mer” She blushed as she said the nickname, worried someone would admonish her for being too familiar with her [Stake], but all she got was a little smile from Merijest and a teasing grin from Witmie.

  “So how do we get past that,” Durn asked.

  “I have some rough ideas,” Merijest admitted. “But nothing fleshed out.”

  The whole party felt the tense probability of failure hanging over their heads. Except for Yabba. Yabba just spit out another dead bird.

  Any last predictions as we head into the final four chapters?

  ***

  Thanks for reading!

  Cover and Monster Art by

  Maps by Ailish Maura using

  Comments, Reviews, and Follows all go a long way to support my writing!