Delve

Ameliah sat against the stone wall, hunched over a padlock grasped tightly in her hand. She was in the island cave, seated between Rain and a thick metal door. That door stood open at the moment, revealing the strongroom that Tallheart had carved into the wall. He was still in there, though doing what, she had no idea, as she couldn’t see him from this angle. It had been quiet for a while, but he hadn’t come back out into the cave proper.

The light of the evertorch jammed into a crack in the wall glinted off the lock as she struggled. Rain had managed to get the thing open four or five times now. She’d managed it several times as well, but never while wearing gauntlets as she was now. It was an excellent way to practice her fine control with them, but it was also incredibly frustrating.

I can’t feel a damn thing.

Removing the pick with a sigh, Ameliah leaned back, resting her head against the wall and letting it flop to the side so she was looking at Rain. “Are you ready yet?”

“Almost,” Rain said, staring off into space. His fingers were wiggling in midair in front of him, a telltale sign that he was working with his interface. “Just making a few last comments in my script. And…there. Okay, I think that should do it.” He turned his head to look at her. “Want the details?”

“Just a summary, please,” Ameliah replied, looking forward again and tugging at the collar of her armor. She felt warm, but it had nothing to do with the temperature. Her equipment had the same Thermal Regulation enchantment that Rain’s did. The problem was that he wasn’t using Winter. She’d grown used to the ethereal chill.

“Summary, right,” Rain said, pausing to think before he continued. “In a nutshell, I’ve got Detection set to fire every 30 seconds using Extend Aura, Aura Focus, and Channel Mastery. The range is 124 meters with that combo, thanks to all my new Aura levels. That should be enough to give us plenty of warning. I’ve got Channel Mastery tuned so Detection uses 5 MP per pulse, and I think I should be able to sustain that indefinitely. I’ll have to check my soul in a little while to be sure. My base regen without Winter is about 16 mana a minute, so that’s plenty. Detection’s resolution won’t be great, and I’m a little worried about Arcane Resistance, but I have to compromise somewhere. I can trigger it manually at higher power as needed, but I really don’t want to overdo it.”

Ameliah smiled. He calls that a summary?“Sounds reasonable,” she said, moderating her tone as she slipped the lock picks back into their leather case. “Can we acknowledge that your idea of ‘not overdoing it’ would make a normal mage spit blood?”

Rain laughed. “Oh, come on. It’s not even that much. Detection’s pretty efficient with the right mods.”

“I still don’t understand how you can use Aura Focus while walking,” Ameliah replied, busy tucking the lock and picks into Rain’s pack, which was sitting beside hers in the middle of the cave floor. She turned, then sat with her legs crossed to face him. “I’d fall flat on my face.”

“You get used to it,” Rain said with a smile. “Falling on your face, that is.”

Ameliah snorted.

“How about you?” Rain asked. “Is there anything else you need to do before we leave?”

Ameliah shrugged. “I still need to free up slots now that I’ve got Arrow Synergy, but I’m not doing that until tonight. I can’t progress in Sharpshooting until I get through Piercing Shot and Endless Quiver, so it’s better to keep the extra Arrows for now. Thanks to Synergy, they’ll add a little extra power to Fire Arrow, at least. They’re mostly useless on their own. The damage just doesn’t compare.”

Rain nodded. “Other than special cases where you’d want the secondary effects, yeah.” He raised his hands in the way that meant he’d summoned his interface again. “Tell me your skill ranks, and I’ll recalculate the elemental damage for Fire Arrow.”

“I already calculated it,” Ameliah said, then stuck her tongue out at him.

Rain blinked, then beamed at her. “I am so proud.”

Ameliah rolled her eyes. “It’s around twenty-two thousand Heat if I use one of Tallheart’s Firebolt Arrows. A third of that if I skip the chant.” She scratched at the corner of her eye, then pulled her adamant-tipped finger away to look at it before flicking it lightly to dislodge the errant eyelash. “I still think it’s strange that Chanting multiplies the enchantment damage, by the way.”

Rain nodded, watching her, still with a goofy smile on his face. “I know, right? As long as you match the enchantment with the Arrow skill, it works.”

“Mmm,” Ameliah said. “It’s common knowledge that you should use elemental weapons with skills of the same element. Not that elemental weapons are easy to come by.”

“Right,” Rain replied. “I think it has to be something about the way weapon skills work. Take the Arrow skills. Arrow Affinity will multiply a Firebolt Arrow’s Heat damage if you use Fire Arrow, but not Stone Arrow. It’s like… Once Fire Arrow triggers, it applies the ‘Arrow’ keyword to whatever Heat damage you already had. Then, the other mods hit in the most beneficial order.”

Ameliah shrugged, not wanting to get into it. “Sounds reasonable. It’s not something I would have spent a lot of time thinking about before I met you. I swear, you’ve infected me with your…math.”

Rain laughed. “You’re welcome. Anyway, what really bugs me is Empowered Mainhand. It multiplies the damage from Fire Arrow, even though it has nothing to do with it, but only if you use an Arrow skill.” He scratched at his beard. “It’s like…the two base damages get added, including the keywords.” His eyes lit up, and he scooted closer to her. “That’s it, isn’t it? Look, 400 Fire-dash-Mainhand damage from the enchantment, plus 146 Fire-dash-Arrow damage from the skill, together is 546 Fire-dash-Arrow-dash-Mainhand damage! If you use Stone Arrow instead of Fire Arrow, though, it doesn’t work! 146 Earth-dash-Arrow, plus 400 Fire-dash-Mainhand is still just 146-Earth-dash-Arrow, plus—“

“Rain,” Ameliah tried to interrupt.

“Just a second,” Rain said, lost entirely in his own world. “It’s different with Fireball, isn’t it? That does Heat and Force damage, but really, they’re Fire-dash-Heat and Fire-dash-Force, separately!” He waved his arms wildly, matching his overexcited tone. “The Arrow skills unify the damage types somehow, but nothing in your Fireball setup does that! They’re treated independently! All the way through to...”

Enough. Ameliah leaned forward, pressing her palm flat against his mouth, careful not to poke him in the eyes with her armored fingers. “Rain,” she said sweetly, rising onto her hands and knees as he turtled his neck, trying to get away. “You’re doing it again.”

The back of Rain’s head bumped into the tunnel wall. He struggled for a moment, attempting to remove her hand, then let his arms fall to his sides, defeated. He sighed as best he could with his mouth covered. Ameliah laughed, releasing him and settling back on her haunches.

“Sorry,” Rain said. He smiled at her, then raised a hand to touch his lips. “That would have been a lot more fun without the gauntlet.”

Ameliah snorted. “Stay focused, please.”

Rain nodded, his smile fading as he lowered his hand. “Anyway, I know we don’t have time for it now, but I still think you should swap one of those extra Arrow Skills for Intrinsic Strength. At least temporarily. Get your health up.”

“I considered it,” Ameliah said. “There’s no point. I can’t heal myself, so I’d have to dump it again before I regenerated enough to make it worth the effort.”

“I’m not sure that’s true,” Rain said stubbornly. “Equipment Mastery is going to take you a while. And besides, I could give you some of my potions.”

Ameliah shook her head. “Eight thousand extra health won’t make a difference, not against something that could break through this.” She rapped her knuckles against her breastplate. “The armor is plenty, even more so with the equipment skills. Stop worrying.”

“I wish I could,” Rain said with a sigh.

Ameliah smiled, laying a hand on his knee. “It will be fine. We’re ready. Now we’re just waiting for Tallheart.”

Tallheart rumbled from within the strongroom, the noise echoing out into the tunnel. “I have been ready,” he said, poking his antlered head out. “For over twenty minutes.” He pointed, and Ameliah followed his finger to Rain’s enormous pack. “Bring that inside. The door will keep it safe until we return.”

“It had better,” she replied. “I still think we should bring the crystal with us. We’ll probably be back tonight, but if the monsters aren’t too bad down there and we find a good spot to camp, it could be a while. This is a lot of Tel we’re talking about.”

“I am not concerned with Tel,” Tallheart said, moving out into the hallway and lifting Rain’s pack himself. “It is GranTel that I require.” He grunted, tossing the Double Gamgee through the open door. It landed with a heavy jangling thump.

“Hey!” Rain shouted, scrambling to his feet.

“It will be safe until we return, provided the torch inside the strongroom does not expire,” Tallheart repeated, heedless of Rain’s reaction. “I have hidden larger caches than this.”

Ameliah nodded, getting to her feet as well. “You already pulled out everything you need, Rain. We can’t afford to be weighed down. I’ll admit it was nice having luxuries, but enough is enough.”

“I’m not arguing that,” Rain said, glaring at Tallheart from within the strongroom. He knelt down, then began fussing with the pack. “Could you be a bit more gentle with my stuff, please?”

“Anything that has broken may be replaced,” Tallheart replied, grasping Rain by the collar of his armor and hoisting him from the ground. He deposited him into the tunnel, ignoring his spluttered protests and ineffectual flailing, then closed the enormous door behind him with his foot. The heavy hinges glided smoothly, and there was a solid clang as the door slammed into its metal frame.

Ameliah covered her mouth, knowing that she shouldn’t laugh.

Another clang followed moments later as Tallheart lowered the heavy bar, then casually bent it into place, sealing the pack inside along with one of their remaining torches. There was a tiny grate in the door near the ceiling so the flames wouldn’t starve, but it was far too small to allow any of the local monsters through.

“Do not concern yourselves with trifles,” Tallheart said, his tone far from amused. He hefted his mobile forge, not bothering to don it before stalking away. “Come. You have wasted enough time.”

Ameliah’s smile faded to a frown. She shared a look with Rain, who seemed to have gotten over his indignation rapidly. Tallheart’s tone had made it clear that he wasn’t just playing around. He was actually annoyed with them.

Rain gave a helpless shrug, then bent, scooping up his helmet. Ameliah did the same, slipping it onto her head. She left the visor up, collecting her bow before following Tallheart. She paused upon reaching the edge of the flickering torchlight, glancing back at Rain. He was scrambling to don her pack, which he’d be carrying for her, as well as the two enormous canteens of water that they were bringing. He appeared to be having trouble with the straps.

She snorted, moving back toward him. “Here, let me help.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Tallheart was already out of sight, though she could hear him plodding further into the darkness. She shook her head, then returned her attention to Rain, brushing aside his hands so she could adjust the buckles for him.

Her frown deepened as she worked. Tallheart was obviously worried about what had happened to Rain’s soul. Rain was putting on a brave face, but the danger was far from past. Whatever was bothering the cervidian seemed to be more than that, however. If I had to guess, he’s getting anxious about the depth. This has to be hard for him.

Finished with the buckles, she stepped away. “There.”

“Thanks,” Rain said. He grabbed the torch from the wall, then stooped to retrieve his shield, now coated with adamant to match his armor. The canteens clonked softly against his armor as he moved, the sound muffled by the Deepcat fur they’d wrapped them with. Finishing with his shield’s straps, Rain gestured down the tunnel with the torch. “Shall we?”

Ameliah nodded, and the two of them set off at a brisk walk, hurrying after their grumbly friend. By the time they caught up, Tallheart was already standing at the precipice of the shaft, peering down into the depths. He was wearing his forge now, as well as his Darksight artifact. The crystal lenses were glowing pale blue, held by the wire frame supporting them in front of his eyes.

“Oh hey, I haven’t seen those in a while,” Rain said, coming to a stop and gesturing with the torch. “I’ve been meaning to ask you—“

Moving quickly to fulfill her promise, Ameliah snapped her arm up, then slammed Rain’s visor down before he could complete the question.

“Ah!” he shouted, dropping the torch in surprise. Fortunately, it didn’t tumble over the edge.

Ameliah closed her own visor, her voice echoing slightly as she spoke. “Keep your visor down from now on. This is where it gets dangerous.”

“You startled the hell out of me!” Rain said, pressing a hand to his chest.

“Hells,” Tallheart said, and Ameliah aborted her reply in mild surprise.

“What?” Rain asked.

“Hells,” Tallheart repeated, still staring down into the darkness. “Plural.”

“I didn’t mark you as devoted,” Ameliah said, arching an eyebrow.

Tallheart snorted, turning to look at her. “I am not. The gods hold no regard for my people, and I have none for them.” He shook his head, then looked back down at the darkness. “It does not matter what I believe. Rain is speaking common. If he is going to use the expression, he should use it correctly.”

Even with both their helmets closed, Ameliah could tell that Rain wanted to argue, so she waved at him, getting his attention. She then spoke to him in hand code, continuing the conversation where Tallheart couldn’t see. “Stay focused. Don’t bother Tallheart. And besides, he has a point.”

“I suppose,” Rain said aloud, then signed back. “Have you noticed his hand?”

Ameliah arched an eyebrow, then looked to see Tallheart flexing the fingers of his left hand open and closed at his side. She looked back up at Rain, who’d released the grip of his shield so he could form proper sentences.

“I saw him doing that yesterday,” he continued with some difficulty. He paused to push the shield’s other strap further up his forearm. “And then again this morning. His left gauntlet is the one that’s busted. Do you think he’s in pain? Maybe that’s why he’s so…” Rain paused, then shrugged.

“Maybe,” Ameliah signed back. That could be part of it, I guess. Quickly, she lowered her hands as Tallheart turned again to look at them. “Sorry,” she said, searching for a quick excuse. “Rain was just asking—“

“It does hurt,” Tallheart said, raising his hand and making a fist before letting it fall back to his side. “Do not concern yourselves.”

“I thought you didn’t know hand code,” Ameliah said lamely, then blinked. “Wait, how did you even see what we were signing with your back to us?”

Tallheart grunted, then tapped the wire frame holding the glowing lenses with his index finger before turning away again.

“And he wonders why I ask him so many questions,” Rain said. “Now I’m trying to decide whether he means those glasses have just a rear-view mirror, or a built-in translation function too.”

“Do not be ridiculous,” Tallheart said without looking back.

“Come on, Tallheart, talk to us,” Ameliah said. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing is bothering me,” Tallheart said. “Now come. We are not here to share our feelings.” Without waiting for a response, he hopped off the ledge, plummeting into the depths below.

“Well, we tried,” Rain said with a sigh. He paused as the clang of Tallheart’s impact reverberated up the shaft, then continued. “Mind helping me down? I’d like to avoid using Force Ward.”

“Mmm,” Ameliah said, pursing her lips as she continued thinking about Tallheart. She slipped her bow over her shoulder, then stepped forward to wrap Rain in a hug. It was a bit awkward, what with the torch, their armor, his shield, her bow, and the pack and canteens. She’d gotten good enough with Airwalk that her armored boots didn’t impede her at least; however, with a second person, all of their supplies, and two complete sets of adamant armor, she found herself struggling. The skill didn’t specify a weight limit, but reason did impose a cap on how far she could push it.

Somehow, she managed to get Rain down without dropping him and with only a minimum of jostling. Once her feet were firmly planted on stone once more, she looked around for Tallheart, spotting him watching them with his arms crossed from the mouth of the main tunnel.

“Check your soul,” Tallheart said, narrowing his eyes at Rain. “Do not linger.”

“Right,” Rain said, looking around, then passing Ameliah the torch before picking a spot over by one wall. He sat quickly, then closed his eyes.

Ameliah moved over to Tallheart, readying her bow and peering down the tunnel. “What do you think is down here, anyway?”

“I have told you many times that I do not know,” Tallheart said flatly. He turned, looking down the tunnel. “Stay on guard.”

Ameliah frowned. “Come on, Tallheart. Rain would have warned us if there was anything around. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Tallheart shook his head slowly, not looking back at her. Ameliah almost decided to try again before she stopped herself, moving over to the other edge of the tunnel. She gently set down the torch, then drew an arrow, readying herself in case anything came. It was only after she’d completely given up on Tallheart answering that he turned his head to look at her.

“I have never seen two Arcane biomes that were the same,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

Ameliah nodded slowly, thinking. She looked back at the tunnel as she replied. “So it’s the unknown? You’re afraid there’s something down here that we can’t handle? That’s what has you on edge?”

“It is not helping,” Tallheart said. He shook his head, and the silence once more began to stretch.

Ameliah stared at the darkness, thinking. “It was Arcane, wasn’t it?” she eventually asked.

Tallheart looked over. “What?”

Ameliah hesitated. “The lair that… The lair where you lost Lilly. It was Arcane, wasn’t it?”

Tallheart snorted. “No. We were not so foolish as that.”

Ameliah grimaced, looking down at her feet. “Oh. Of course not. I just thought… Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

“It is fine,” Tallheart said. After a moment, he heaved a deep sigh, turning to face her. “There is nothing specific that is bothering me. I have merely been…hmm…dwelling.” He grunted, looking away. “As I have said many times, this is not the place. I do not wish to speak. Set aside your human stubbornness and leave me be.”

“Human stubbornness?” Ameliah asked, raising an eyebrow at him behind her helmet. “You’re the stubbornest person here.”

Before Tallheart could reply, Rain stirred.

“What did I miss?” he asked, sitting up.

“Nothing,” Ameliah said, glancing at Tallheart as she replied. “That was fast.”

“Tallheart said not to linger,” Rain said, oblivious to her tone.

Ameliah shook her head, trading one set of concerns for another. “How’s your soul?”

“Fine, I think,” Rain said. “The essence barometers are definitely working. The pressure outside the Bastion has gone up a little bit.” He gestured around. “The Depth Gauge said max here last time. With the calibration I did in the tunnel yesterday, I get 21. I’m not saying that’s what it really is, but if it’s more, it’s not a lot more.”

“Mmm,” Tallheart rumbled in acknowledgment.

Rain nodded. “I just wish I could read my sensors without having to get in there. I’d have to get the system working for that, I think.” He sighed. “I have some ideas, but nothing quick. I also checked on my paling. The chaos that’s seeping in isn’t hot anymore. It feels…Arcane. I really don’t have a word for the sensation. It’s like…concentrated oddness.”

“No, you are concentrated oddness,” Tallheart said, surprising them both. Rain began to laugh, and Tallheart rumbled at him in irritation. “Keep your voice down.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Rain said, waving him away. “Nice one, Tallheart.”

“How about the tear?” Ameliah asked, her concern for Rain mixing with her amusement. At least Tallheart’s not in too bad of a mood to make jokes. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.

Rain shook his head. “I don’t have an avatar over there. I’m planning to make a proper outpost once we get to a rank 24 zone. It will be easier without the wind trying to blow me out the whole time.”

“Right,” Ameliah said. “So, you feel good enough to continue?”

“Yeah,” Rain said, stooping to pick up the torch. “I should be fine.”

“Good,” Tallheart said, uncrossing his arms and turning to face the dark tunnel. “With me.” He pointed to the ground beside him. “Ameliah, here. Rain, follow.”

“You got it,” Rain said, adjusting his pack. “In the rear, with the gear.” His light tone said it was a joke of some kind, but Ameliah didn’t get it. There was nothing funny in his statement. It was simply the formation they’d discussed.

The torch cast their shadows far down the tunnel as they set off, Ameliah’s silhouette seeming to dance beside Tallheart’s as the flames flickered behind them. They moved quickly, not making more noise than they needed to, but not trying especially hard to mask the sound of their footsteps either. Ameliah was actually hoping for something to come, even if it was something horrible, like a Dunch.

She shivered. Okay, maybe not a Dunch.

After almost a half-hour, they were rolling along at a pace that would have been unsustainable for unawakened. The air had thickened well past the point it had on their previous excursion, now feeling almost like oily smoke against her skin. The tunnels had widened as well, becoming a maze-like network rather than a single path. They’d started leaving metal markers again, not wanting to lose the way back. As he’d guided them generally downward, Rain had kept up a running commentary on the shape of the tunnels and the continuing lack of monsters, his voice echoing strangely in the Arcane air. Occasionally, he’d give them an update on what he was feeling, such as the growing syrupiness, or the lack of issues with his soul.

Having a support class along was amazingly useful, and Rain was proving it here. While he constantly complained about feeling unable to help in combat, this was where he showed his worth. For once, he even seemed willing to acknowledge his contribution. The constant drip of information he was feeding them reminded her of the one time she’d gone delving with a genuine, professional team. That excursion still left a bitter taste in her mouth, but the reason for that had nothing to do with the Diviner.

The squirrelly man had guided his team unerringly through the poison-choked valley outside Brightside. Then, he’d led them lower, far lower than she’d ever have dared to go without high-level support, easily finding the hidden, undiscovered lair that she and…Lerith…had been seeking for more than half a year. The same lair whose promise had lured her father to his death many years before that. The same lair where she’d raised her cap to its current level, and the same lair whose accolade had been stolen from her.

I should have killed him. Ameliah tightened her fists. I would have been doing the world a favor.

“Hey, stop for a second,” Rain said suddenly, his urgent tone jarring Ameliah out of her dark contemplation. Slowing her jog, she looked over her shoulder, then came to a complete stop, watching as Rain struggled to relieve himself of his burdens. The tunnel was wide and straight here, perhaps broad enough for two carriages to pass without getting in each other’s way.

“What are you doing?” Tallheart asked, stopping as well. In the heavy air, his voice was a rich thrum, deep and echoing.

“Just a second,” Rain said, struggling to free one of the canteens from the Deepcat-hide jacket. It came free with a grunt. “Look,” Rain said, holding up the now-naked metal canteen, shaped like a large wheel of cheese with a metal-capped neck. Immediately, Ameliah noticed why Rain had bothered to remove the protective fur. The sides of the canteen were visibly bowed inward. It hadn’t been like that before.

“Hmm,” Tallheart rumbled.

“It’s pressure,” Rain said, reaching for the cap. He twisted it, and there was a hiss of rushing air, then a metallic ping as the sides snapped back to their original shape. “The air isn’t just…arcane…it’s actually thicker,” Rain said, tightening the cap again. “As in, physically. And by a lot.” He held up the canteen, then shook it, the sound of sloshing water echoing down the tunnel. “This one was only two-thirds full. Water isn’t compressible, so it was just the air that was getting squeezed down. The pressure here’s got to be insane. How many times have your ears popped? I know I stopped counting.”

Ameliah tilted her head, fingering the bow slung over her shoulder as she took a heavy breath, focusing on the way the air seemed to slither in and then out of her lungs. She’d never played around with Water Breathing, but she imagined that this would be exactly what it felt like.

“Hmph,” Tallheart said. He stooped, lifting the Deepcat hide, then straightened, only to drop it. It seemed to fall significantly slower than it should have, more like a bedsheet catching the air than the thick pelt that it was.

“What the hell….s. Hells,” Rain said, lifting the hide and dropping it again. “Tallheart, have you ever seen anything this strange before?”

“No,” Tallheart said, sounding unconcerned. “I have encountered many stranger things than this.”

“What—?” Rain began, but cut himself off, raising a hand in a closed fist. “Contact.” He pointed down the tunnel in the direction they’d been going. “Three signals. Moving fast, just around the bend. We’ve got about…twenty seconds.”

Ameliah had turned sharply the moment Rain had raised his hand. Unlimbering her bow, she conjured and nocked a Firebolt Arrow; then, as she had the time, she began Chanting. The familiar syllables came to her tongue easily, built upon what she remembered of the invented language her father had used for the same purpose. She felt them weaving together, enhancing the framework of the spell. Fortunately, Fire Arrow wasn’t very complex, but even so, without any metamagic to shorten the invocation, it was several seconds before the arrowhead burst into flames.

Rain was muttering as well, his words coming in clipped sentences, coinciding with what had to be pulses of Detection. “One is out in front of the others. All three are monsters. Two are known types. Hababas, including the one in the front. Still coming. Ten seconds.”

Ameliah didn’t need his narration to know that. The thick air in the tunnel was now blowing toward them in a fierce wind, carrying with it the smell of thunder and making the flames cloaking her arrow gutter and dance. Crackling Arcane lightning had appeared in the darkness ahead, and by its white light, she recognized the outline of the lead Hababa as it barreled toward them.

She drew, loosing the instant she felt Seeker Shot accept the target. The flaming missile hurtled down the tunnel, cutting through the heavy air, swerving slightly as her skill compensated for the powerful fire magic surrounding the arrowhead. It struck the Hababa in the chest, exploding in a cloud of flame that bathed the tunnel in red-orange light.

Ameliah didn’t wait for the impact. She was already loosing her next shot, the arrow blazing with the buff of Fire Arrow, though less vigorously without the benefit of Chanting. The arrow flew, but before it struck, a blinding flash of white light seared through the slit of her visor, accompanied by a thunderous boom that she felt deep in her chest.

Promptly, the system informed her that her target was dead.

And that she hadn’t been the primary contributor.

“The lead Hababa just vanished,” Rain said, his voice calm, yet urgent. The lack of reaction to the detonation told Ameliah that he was completely submerged in Aura Focus. “The other two signals stopped. No, scratch that, here they come again.”

“Run, or fight?” Ameliah asked, glancing at Tallheart.

“Fight,” Tallheart said. “I am going.” His helmet appeared soundlessly, and he leapt, soaring forward diagonally into the air. Sparks flew as his armored antlers scraped along the ceiling at the top of his arc before he landed, then jumped again.

Ameliah snapped her bow back up. Conjure, nock, draw, ignite, loose. The arrows bent around Tallheart before swerving back, seeking their target. The remaining Hababa and the unknown monster were both visible now, thanks to the crackling halo of electricity that surrounded the latter. The newcomer was fishlike, sleek and predatory, with several short spines extending from its fins and two longer ones near its mouth like enormous whiskers. Lightning trailed constantly from the tips of those, discharging through the Hababa and against the walls of the passage. The fish hovered impossibly in the air, seeming almost leisurely in the pursuit of its prey.

That changed as the first of Ameliah’s arrows struck. The explosion sent the fish careening into the tunnel wall, though it recovered quickly, spurting forward. The Hababa’s lead vanished in an instant, and there was another massive boom and flash. The Hababa howled as it died, falling smoking and twitching to the ground.

“Second Hababa down,” Rain said. “Nice work, Ameliah, that was fast. Warding for Arcane at fifty percent.”

There was no visual effect to tell Ameliah that the spell had gone up around her, nor could she spare the attention to worry about it.

Conjure, nock, draw, ignite, loose.

Tallheart had reached the monstrous fish. Next to him, it seemed to be at least the size of a donkey, though it was hovering a good half-meter off the tunnel floor. Lightning skittered from its spines to Tallheart’s armor, trailing after him as he slid beneath the enormous creature to come to a stop behind it.

Good. Ameliah picked up her pace further, the target now unobstructed.

“Ah!” Rain exclaimed beside her, clearly having dropped Aura Focus. Ameliah didn’t even spare him a glance.

Conjure, nock, draw, ignite, loose. Arrow after arrow slammed into the monster’s scaled hide, now identifiable as a level twenty-four Sparkscale Hunter Drone. Tallheart had grabbed it by one of its whiskers and was hammering at its side ineffectually. If not for what her eyes were telling her, she’d have marked the sound as him working at his anvil. The fish’s silvery scales had to be as hard as anything. Her shots also seemed to be having little effect, judging by its health, which, while it was dropping, was only doing so slowly.

“Tallheart!” Rain shouted, taking a step past her.

“Stay!” Ameliah shouted, not breaking her rhythm to speak, though it took all her concentration. Conjure, nock, draw, ignite, loose.

“But—!” Rain protested, stopping after only a few more steps to point down the tunnel.

Ameliah ignored him, feeling the charge in the air sharpen. There was another brilliant flash, and Tallheart screamed in pain as he was blasted away.

“No!” Rain cried, stiffening and lowering his arms to his sides. He fell silent, and Ameliah saw what he was doing as the ambient lightning that was continuing to strike Tallheart met a translucent purple barrier. Arcane Ward, boosted with Aura Focus, no doubt. It was questionable whether the cervidian would have been in range without it.

Tightening her jaw until she felt it creak, Ameliah increased her speed, nearing the theoretical limit of one shot per second. To do that, she had to start igniting the conjured arrows before she even freed them fully from the quiver. Fire burned in her mind, searing with the effort required to activate the three separate skills practically on top of one another.

She’d lost count of how many projectiles she’d loosed. The system was telling her that the monster’s health was dropping steadily now, each hit dealing more damage than the last, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to kill it before it overpowered Rain’s aura and fried Tallheart where he stood. Its concentrated lightning, much stronger than the field that constantly crackled from its whiskers, had torn through the Hababas like they were wet paper. Tallheart’s armor was certainly better than hers and Rain’s, but it was hard to envision it standing up to more than a handful of strikes. Ameliah’s blood was running cold, despite the fire burning through her mind.

Tallheart screamed. Tallheart.

Having regained his footing, Tallheart lunged back for the fish, bringing his hammer down right between its eyes. The force of the strike sent it smashing into the floor hard enough to shatter deepstone, but it slipped away from his attempted followup, drifting backward toward her unnaturally fast. Arrow after arrow slammed into it, each explosive impact making it twitch in pain, but it didn’t shift its focus away from Tallheart.

The electric scent in the air sharpened.

No.

The flash was yet again blinding, and as it faded, Ameliah saw Rain collapse, his helmet striking the ground with a heavy, metallic thump.

“Rain!” she cried, though she didn’t remove her eyes from the monster as she took a determined step forward.

Conjure, nock, draw, ignite, loose. Not stopping, she added the step to her pattern. Conjure, nock, draw, ignite, loose, step.

Tallheart, having been shielded somewhat by Rain’s spell, managed to catch up to the retreating fish and grab onto one of its whiskers again. Its health was quite low now—low enough for him to shatter the appendage with a hammer strike to its base. The fish reeled backward, trying to escape, but there was nowhere it could hide from their furious, flanking assault. One, two, three more arrows struck, each explosion sending larger and larger spurts of blood and charred scales into the air. Tallheart’s hammer fell again, and the system chimed, informing her of their victory.

Ameliah paid it no mind, dropping her bow and diving for Rain, who she’d stopped to stand over protectively.

Healing Word!

Pressing her hand against his back, she cursed, finding herself unable to force the magic through his armor before it was twisted away from her by the metal. Flipping him over, she raised his visor, then pressed her hand against his face, much as she’d done not an hour before with significantly less urgency.

Healing Word!

His soul still fought her as she tried to force the healing into his unconscious body, but she was able to force it through. They’d already discussed this scenario, the topic having come up while they’d been discussing the damage he’d sustained. Rain had explicitly told her that he’d want her to try and revive him, having concluded that the risk of further harm was low.

Healing Word! Healing Word! Damn it, this isn’t working. He doesn’t need health, he needs—

On a stroke of inspiration, Ameliah grabbed Rain’s shield, lifting it so she could access the line of potion bottles strapped to its back. Most were red and green, but there were a pair of blue ones at the end, wedged in like an afterthought. She grabbed one, fighting with the cork before lifting her visor to use her teeth. Tilting Rain’s head back, she poured it down his throat, hoping that he’d reflexively swallow. Depending on how severely he’d overdrawn, his body might not retain the reflex.

Stirring weakly, Rain spluttered, then swallowed.

Yes!

Uncorking the second bottle, Ameliah poured it into his mouth as well, then placed her hand over it until he swallowed again. She didn’t stop there, however.

Overhealth might not be what he needs, but it won’t hurt.

Again, she had to fight to push the spells through his unconscious defenses.

Healing Word! Healing Word! I should have kept the metamagic! Damn it! Healing—

Rain jerked, then groaned. Ameliah felt the resistance to her magic vanish. She took her hand away, relief crashing over her. It didn’t last long, however. Rain wasn’t the only one she needed to check on. Tallheart. She looked up, then gasped.

“How is he?” Tallheart rumbled from directly beside her. His armor was spattered with a silvery liquid, likely the monster’s blood, but there was none of it on his unhelmeted face. Nor, for that matter, any sign of distress.

“Owww…” Rain groaned groggily, scrunching up his eyes.

Ameliah looked away from Tallheart, then moved back, giving Rain space to sit up.

“You should not have attempted to block that bolt,” Tallheart said, shaking his head slowly. “I would have survived.”

“It damaged…you…” Rain said thickly. “I felt it with…linksight. Couldn’t risk—”

“Hmph,” Tallheart said, crouching down to peer into Rain’s eyes. “My armor is strong, but even it does not have perfect mana conversion. I do not have the skill, remember.” He snorted. “I felt a slight tingle. It surprised me. That was all.”

“Liar,” Rain said. “Your health went down enough for me to feel it. That’s at least five percent.”

Tallheart snorted. “That ability is not fair. You are spoiling my image. Regardless, it would have taken four more strikes before my armor would have been in danger of saturation. Pain is nothing. I will recover.”

Ameliah sighed, pressing her hand against Tallheart’s shoulder. She started healing him, firing off Healing Word after Healing Word as fast as she could form the spells in her mind.

Rain flopped weakly, trying to sit up, then stopping to press a hand against his head. He grit his teeth, then shook his head and levered himself up fully, hissing through his teeth. “Yes. Pain is nothing.”

Ameliah sighed again. “Men.” She released Tallheart’s shoulder, returning it to Rain’s and triggering another Healing Word before he could stop her.

Rain jerked, then grabbed her hand. “It’s fine,” he said, pushing at her forearm until she allowed him to dislodge it. “I don’t need that. Healing won’t help with this. I’m just out of mana.” He coughed, waving her away. “I could use Winter, but if I regen too fast, I’ll just pass out again because of my soul. I think I might anyway. I’m already feeling tired.” He paused. “Wait, I have some potions on my…” He licked his lips, only now seeming to recognize the flavor that had to be lingering in his mouth. “Oh.”

Tallheart snorted, turning away. “Before you fall asleep, scan for GranCrysts. Also, do not use Purify. I will not have you dissolving our prize before you realize what it is. Though perhaps you could not do so, given its nature.”

“I…what?” Rain asked, looking up.

“The scales,” Tallheart said, stooping, then holding one up. The fire from the forgotten torch glinted off the metallic object, elongated and sharply pointed like a dagger.

Ameliah blinked. Metal? So that’s why my Fire Arrows didn’t do so much at first. It was just the physical damage getting through.

Tallheart looked down at the scale, and when he spoke, he sounded pleased. “This one is mostly silver and iron, but over twenty percent is valis. There is some atantum as well, and traces of both rykir and adamant.”

Ameliah inhaled sharply. Atantum? How much atantum? She looked at the gory remains of the fish, its metallic blood splattered all across the tunnel. There were dozens of scales. Hundreds.

“I told you, monsters are a good source of resources,” Tallheart said, chuckling to himself as he tossed the scale in the direction of his mobile forge. It clattered sharply to the ground. Belatedly, Ameliah realized that some of the heaviness had drained out of the air with the fish’s death. It wasn’t gone, but it was certainly less noticeable.

Tallheart rumbled, then gestured to Rain. “Scan quickly. If another of these arrives to investigate, we will have to retreat.”

“I—“ Rain’s mouth worked, fishlike itself. After a moment, he seemed to recover. He closed his eyes, then spoke. “The coast is clear for now. No monsters. Checking for GranCrysts.” He shook his head briefly. “Crysts.” Another shake. “Tel. Gran—“ he stopped, then pointed directly at the fish. “GranTel. Three of them.”

“Hmm,” Tallheart said. “Arcane GranCrysts would have been better, but I will take what I am given.”

“Three GranTel…” Ameliah said, trailing off. She shook her head. “I guess we’re deep enough for that, but that much valis is insane. And atantum…”

“Mmm…” Tallheart rumbled happily. “Armored monsters are not uncommon, but those that incorporate metal so completely into their defenses are rare.” He gestured toward the fish. “Only twice did Lilly and I find biomes populated with such.”

He smiled, then. Actually smiled. Fully. The expression looked almost alien on his stony face. “I suspect this one will outdo them both. Did either of you notice the creature’s name?”

“Drone…” Ameliah said in realization, her eyes going wide.

“Indeed,” Tallheart said, turning away and squelching through the metallic blood toward the monstrous corpse. “There will be more. Many more. Perhaps these Sparkscales are more like insects than they are fish. Hmm. Or perhaps they are both. There may be a hive. Or a queen.”

“Holy shit,” Rain said.

“It is indeed an opportunity,” Tallheart said, stooping and beginning to tear scales from the corpse.

“No…well yes, but…” Rain motioned to Ameliah, accepting her help as she pulled him to his feet. He used her for support, staring at the carnage. “One of those almost killed us! It was hunting Hababas, for crying out loud! Who knows how many it killed before we came along!” He looked over at Ameliah, his face close to hers as he was still leaning heavily on her shoulder. “Last night… Remember I told you I sensed three at once, moving together? If those were these things…” Rain swallowed heavily. “We really don’t want to be down here after dusk.”

“You are correct,” Tallheart said. “We should return to the cave above, if only temporarily.” He held up a scale, tilting it this way and that. His forearms were now completely coated in the fish’s blood, dripping steadily to the ground. “Soon enough, we will be the hunters,” he said, lowering the scale, then reaching for more. “Hmm. Perhaps farmers would be more appropriate. Or miners.” He paused, then rapped his knuckles against the corpse, sending a metallic ring echoing through the tunnel. “Miners of fish.”

There was a pause, and then, for some reason, Rain burst into uncontrollable laughter. He almost fell before Ameliah caught him, wrapping him in an awkward hug.

“Did I say something amusing?” Tallheart asked, looking up from his gristly harvest.

“I have no idea,” Ameliah said helplessly as Rain quaked against her. After a moment, she found herself chuckling too. Her nerves felt loose, giddy as the tension of the battle drained away. “Do you think we should ask him to explain?” she asked, patting Rain absently on the back as she fought to maintain her footing. Tallheart had left bloody footprints, making the stone quite slick.

“No,” Tallheart said with a snort, returning to his gathering. “That would be unwise.”