“Wait, how long did I sleep? It feels like long enough for me to yell at you for not waking me up for my turn at watch.” Keith looked over at Mark, who was doing some sort of kata.
“Skwilly and I decided you needed as much sleep as you could get, so he and I split watch duties. I found the floor difficult to sleep on, so I got in a nap but couldn’t sleep long.”
“Thanks, both of you. Agree with you on the sleeping on the floor thing.” Keith finished up his stretching.
Skwilly sauntered over and bumped Keith on the shin. “Do you think we can rest one more day? I think both you and Mark could use the rest.”
“I don’t recall a time-limit being mentioned. I imagine we can’t take forever, but I don’t think trying to get another day of rest is unacceptable. We didn’t take but a few hours between the first two and I’m guessing we’re meeting the level boss in this next one.”
Mark nodded. “Makes sense to me—we’ll want to set guard duty, just in case somebody gets a wild hair and tries to get us moving.”
<
“Well, that settles the rest thing. Not sure I’ll get to where I answer to Malcolm.”
“Unless the Structure does something to jog our memories. I think it’s done something to us so we know how to fight, and to ease our acceptance of being in a new world.” Valgrin sat down. “I have a lot to work through mentally—nearly dying in a world you thought was fiction, messes with your brain.”
Malcolm nodded. “I didn’t have as close a call, but still an eye-opener.”
<
“Woah, just got spells unlocked.” Valgrin shouted, “Heal Wounds is one of them. Have to pick two out of three. You get spells?”
“Mine were already unlocked. I’ve not used anything except Healing Touch. Did you level up?”
Valgrin took a quick look at his stats. “No, the only thing I can guess is I had to do something to unlock spell ability.”
Malcolm nodded. “Makes sense, for here I mean. Sandy had told me leveling up wouldn’t happen until all three onboarding dungeons were done. What are you picking?”
“Heal Wounds is a no brainer. You heal, I heal, Skwilly, can you heal?”
After a brief pause, the priggy shook its head. “Not now, can’t find it referenced in anything I can access, so don’t know if I will in the future.”
“Well, having two-thirds of the party able to heal will help. As far as the other one, both have their use cases—but since I’m not geared to be much of a fighter, I think Ice Spear makes the most sense. Maybe I can get the other one later.”
“Yeah, distance weapons probably best for you.” Malcolm stretched out on the floor. “We shoulda asked for at least a sleeping bag.”
A sharp pop sounded and a sleeping bag lay next to Malcolm’s feet.
Valgrin raised his eyebrows. “Nice service. Wonder if it’ll work for me.” He looked at the ceiling. “I’d like to ask for a twin bed.” A louder pop sounded and a twin bed sat next to Valgrin.
Malcolm glared at the bed, then shouted. “Wait a minute! I want a twin bed, too.”
All three stared for a minute, waiting, in vain, for a bed to appear.
With a sigh, Malcolm groused. “Guess we only get one shot at that.” He spent the next several minutes failing to get a coffee pot, toothbrush, slippers, gold, and a puppy.
Skwilly watched, then asked. “Did you really expect a puppy?”
Shrugging, Malcolm answered. “After the toothbrush didn’t appear, I didn’t expect to get anything.”
“You succeeded then.”
Valgrin stifled a laugh at Skwilly’s reply.
<
Malcolm’s sleeping bag flew. “Revoked! Why?”
“Nice kick.” Skwilly stared at the sleeping bag, now on the other side of the lobby.
“We’d like an answer. Why revoked?” Valgrin’s jaw twitched as he stood, arms folded.
A few minutes later, Skwilly broke the silence. “I don’t think we’re getting any answers.”
Valgrin turned and strode to stand near the sleeping bag, ignoring Malcolm’s grumbles. Keeping us off balance? Someone wanting us to fail? Dammit! I want to know what’s going on and how to get out of here. He stood staring at nothing on the wall in front of him. With a huff, he turned and walked back to the group.
Malcolm looked up. “You look about as happy as I feel. This sucks! Feels like we’re getting setup.”
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“Uh-huh.” Valgrin nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking too. At least we’re fully reset. Actually, are you reset? I checked my katar, and it’s back to full charge.”
“I am. I checked while you were over there collecting yourself. Had to find something to do before I cussed out whoever is behind this.”
“Haven’t known you to be concerned about what you say.” Valgrin stared at his friend.
“Almost let loose.” Malcolm scuffed at the floor with his foot. “Then, surprisingly, my brain kicked in and stopped me. Didn’t seem a great idea to piss off someone who had their fingers on the difficulty dial of the next room.”
Valgrin let loose a short growl. “If it is fingers. Could be tentacles or something else for all we know.”
Skwilly scampered over, coming to a halt at Valgrin’s side. “Who has tentacles?”
“Sal the Squid.” Malcolm grinned down at the priggy, who just shook his head.
Valgrin ignored the exchange. “Ready to go?”
“No, but then what choice do we have?” Malcolm stomped up to the red door, key in hand.
The door unlocked and opened with ease. Malcolm looked back at Valgrin and Skwilly. “I’m going in.” He stepped into the shadows of the doorway.
Valgrin followed, with Skwilly at his heels. As they passed through the sleek glass doorway, the intense glare of fluorescent lights above made Valgrin squint, momentarily blurring his vision. He blinked rapidly, and the room gradually sharpened into focus. To his right, a vast stretch of bookshelves stood, crammed with multicolored spines that seemed to stretch on for at least a hundred feet. Turning to the left, he noticed more rows of towering bookcases, each filled with volumes of varying sizes. Clusters of chairs, upholstered in bold, clashing patterns, were scattered among sturdy dark wood tables, their surfaces worn with years of use. This wasn’t the library he remembered from his college days—the walls had been repainted, the furniture rearranged—but if he squinted just right, he could still catch glimpses of the old space hidden beneath the new.
He noticed a display off to the side, next to the long checkout counter. Some type of farm theme, bales of straw, baskets of fake fruits and vegetables, surrounding an old red hand pump. A cork board hung behind the display, covered in green construction paper, but nothing else.
“Getting old seventies public library vibes here.” Malcolm whispered.
Valgrin nodded, his eyes searching to room. “Yeah, mixed with the old campus library. Haven’t seen any threats yet—have you?”
“Nope.” Malcolm peeked around the corner of a bookshelf and shrugged, walking toward the next row.
“Can I help you?”
A thin voice from behind caused Valgrin to spin around, katar drawn. He didn’t see anything.
“Not a nice way to ask for help.” The thin voice continued. Valgrin still unable to see anything.
Valgrin kept his eyes darting around. He saw Malcolm doing the same as he came closer. Skwilly stood off to the right of Valgrin.
“You scared me. And still are to be honest. I can’t see you—or don’t know where to look.”
Valgrin spun around again when the voice sounded from behind.
“Don’t want to be seen.”
Malcom stepped forward, his sai drawn and in front of him. “It would be a whole lot nicer if you changed your mind about that.”
The thin voice now came from further away. “Such a compelling argument.”
Tensing, Valgrin ground his teeth. A chill washed through his body. He knew his voice came out loud and harsh. He didn’t care. “Listen here! I have had enough. I get pulled into a world where it seems like most everything wants to kill me and my friends. I nearly die from something I thought was pure fiction, out of my imagination. I get told I can rest for a day—and that gets yanked from me and I’m forced to come in here. I have to assume you want to kill us, too. It is entirely reasonable to want to see who is harassing us!” His fist slammed into the nearest table.
A few seconds went by, then a deeper version of the voice commented. “Most people don’t see their death coming. Why should you be any different?”
“Because he asked nicely?” Malcolm quipped.
Valgrin cocked his head, trying to identify a new sound. He came up with two stones, enormous stones, sliding against each other. The raspy groan started softly, then grew in volume. A gasping sound intermingled with the scraping noise. The hairs on Valgrin’s arms stood on end as the sound continued to grow. The gasping became more pronounced.
A faint image of something brown flashed for a second. The rock grinding noised changed to an occasional squeal, with louder gasping. The brown form became more solid.
Something that resembled the voice broke through the noise. “Because….asked,” the gasping grew loud between the staccato words. “Nicely.” The squeals turned into full on laughter.
Valgrin tried to make sense of the beast standing on the other side of the room. It looked like a large brown python, mixed with a small dragon. The creature’s scales looked like they were made of leather. It had two pairs of wings that were not quite folded, both sets vibrating with each gasp.
He looked over at Malcolm, whose mouth was wide open—his eyes might have been open wider. Malcolm turned to Valgrin. “A dragon? We have to face a dragon?”
Wheezing, the brown reptilian beast shook its head. “Not…a…dragon.”
Malcolm shrugged. “Okay, I was mistaken then—not a dragon. What are you then?”
The lack of shakiness in Malcolm’s voice impressed Valgrin. He knew his voice wouldn’t have come out so strong.
The not-dragon held up a claw, sharp talons reflecting the fluorescent light. It worked on catching its breath, then the laughter would take over, causing it to have to start over on the work of composure.
Should we attack now, it seems to be struggling to do much of anything. Is it a ploy? Is it a trap? I hate this.
A huge gasp and shudder seemed to reign in the laughing. “I am not a dragon,” the creature waved its claws toward all the books. “I am a bookwyrm.”
“A bookworm?” Valgrin tried to stop the words before blurting them out, but failed.
The creature sighed and shook its scaly head. “Not worm, wyrm. W-Y-R-M, wyrm.”
Skwilly found his voice. “I thought wyrms were dragons?”
The wyrm turned to the priggy. “Let me educate you. They can be, but I’m not. Wyrm is a term that has so many definitions and can be interchangeable with dragons in many groupings—depending on how that world or realm uses the word. I, on the other hand, come from a long line of magical creatures created by someone that no one remembers, not even us bookwyrms. We are close relatives—but not actually dragons.”
Valgrin pointed at the bookwrym. “Wings, I’m guessing the rule that wyrms don’t have wings is different between mythos, too.”
“Groupings, the fact I’m standing here makes mythos an invalid word. And one I find quite offensive.”
“Sorry.” I’m apologizing to a wyrm. “Wait, you understood Skwilly?”
“I’m a bookwyrm. Languages are an interest to me, and I find them easy to understand. I currently know one hundred and twelve languages fluently.” The bookwyrm dipped its head slightly.
Malcolm cleared his throat. “I’m not fond of asking this, but how about breath weapons and bookwyrms?”
“Ah!” The beast raised up a talon. “Excellent question. Wyrms, as a rule, are all over the place as far as breath weapons. Bookwyrms do have one.”
The heat assaulted Valgrin. It almost burned. Breathing became difficult. An orange light filled the room for a second. It dimmed slightly, allowing Valgrin to see a narrow beam of white hot flame come within a few feet of Malcolm, then disappear.
“We have a fire-based breath weapon, and we have extreme control over it. What I just did was start big and billowy, then condensed it down to a very narrow lance. The billowing is effective, but that lance—it’s about ten times the damage if it hits you. Quite effective, let me tell you.”
Malcolm wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “No need to tell me how effective it is—so am I just out of range or is that part of your extreme control?”
“Part of my extreme control. Thank you for noticing.”
“Excuse me for saying but fire around books seems like it might hamper your ability to protect the books. I mean, I assume that is what you do.” Valgrin motioned to the back of the library.
The bookwyrm nodded. “Reasonable, most reasonable.”
A whooshing sound filled the room as a series of fireballs hit different book stacks. No visible damage happened. “But, well, you know—magic.”
Valgrin had difficulty swallowing. Here goes nothing. “You have been a fantastic host and quite informative. Thank you. I have to ask, though, what is your purpose here?” Valgrin gestured to the room.
“Purpose? I thought that was obvious. I’m here to kill you.”