The bookwyrm scratched its neck with one talon. “I need to get my fee for this, sorry.”
Malcolm sputtered. “You get paid for this?”
“I’m not a dungeon spawn. They recruited me for what they called a special onboarding encounter. You’re not fresh, not as powerful as I expected, but you have levels. The normal end boss would be too weak. So, yes, I get paid—graduated scale based on my level of opposition to you, and bonus for killing one of you, bigger bonus if I kill both of you. I don’t get nothing if I don’t attack, and I didn’t take this job to get nothing. I need the payout.”
“Any chance we can buy you off?” Malcolm asked.
“No, that would breach the deal—I’m no breacher.”
Malcolm shrugged. “Can’t fault me for asking.”
“Sounds like you don’t have to kill us,” Valgrin pointed out. “It’s not kill or be killed?”
“You have to defeat the room. I have to kill you. Those are the win conditions. The other caveats are primarily to cover unforeseen incidents. Maybe I kill one of you and only maim the other—could be I stop there. But this isn’t getting it done, so prepare for the fight.”
The bookwyrm swayed, his chest expanded as he drew in air.
Malcolm flipped a table over and ducked behind it. “Take cover. Looks like he’s getting started.”
For a split second, time froze. Dust motes whirled madly in the light, the only signs of life in the otherwise still library. A faint crackling grew into a deafening roar. Suddenly, a blast of fiery yellow erupted towards Malcolm, tearing through the air with a violent whoosh. Valgrin snapped out of his paralysis, shaking his head fiercely, and hurled himself behind a small, solitary bookcase. His heart racing, he stole a glance and saw Malcolm crouched behind the table, eyes wide with fear. Another thunderous whoosh echoed, as flames curled menacingly around both sides of the bookcase. The air blistered with heat, and Valgrin gasped desperately, struggling for each breath as the searing heat leached every drop of moisture from his skin before finally retreating.
“So,” Valgrin stayed behind the books as he shouted. “How many times do you get to use that breath weapon of yours?”
A growl rumbled through the room. “You insult my intelligence? Why would I give you that information?”
“No insult intended. You’ve been extremely forthcoming, so far, I thought I’d see how forthcoming you might be.” Valgrin chewed his bottom lip, waiting for the reply.
The bookwyrm chuckled. Valgrin felt the rumbling bass vibrating the floor. “I see, not telling—need to keep a few things secret. Who knows, maybe you’ll find out firsthand.”
This time, the sound of rushing air started and stopped several times. Each whoosh resulted in a quick burst of flame against Malcolm’s table or Valgrin’s bookcase. Pinned down, both of us. Why isn’t the bookwyrm pushing his advantage? What is he afraid he might damage?
Malcolm’s waving had caught his attention. It focused on his friend’s index finger pressed against his lips. Valgrin mouthed, “What?”
Valgrin tried to read Malcolm’s lips. “Catch me.” He hoped he got it right—Malcolm running, then leaping at Valgrin confirmed the message. He grunted when Malcolm’s elbow landed an accidental blow to his side.
Another whoosh filled the room, this time the flames broke around the edges of the bookcase and teased reaching both men.
“Why did you do that?” Valgrin asked through clenched teeth.
“To talk without the big scaly thing hearing us.” Malcolm stole a quick glance around the edge of the bookcase, then ducked back just as another burst of flame slammed into the barrier. “Notice that attack didn’t make a loud noise?”
Valgrin shut his eyes for a moment. “You’re right, it didn’t.”
“I think our new friend is trying to make it look good without killing us. Only a hunch, but with the control he told us about—and demonstrated. I think he’s pulling his fire-punch, so it looks and feels more deadly than his intent.”
Valgrin opened and closed his mouth, then repeated the action, abruptly stopping before doing it a third time. “I hate it when I go all fish-face. That’s not a horrible theory. But why?”
With an impish smile, Malcolm gave a quick nod. “I may have figured that out too—right before getting your attention. Remember what he said about the win conditions?”
“We have to defeat him. I assumed that is kill or incapacitate.”
Another burst of flames interrupted the pair. “Okay, you two are going to have to do something or I’m coming over there.”
The sound of furniture scrapping on the floor sent shivers up Valgrin’s spine.
Malcolm moved into a crouching position, then looked back at Valgrin. “He said defeat the room, not him—a puzzle?” Malcolm sprang forward, rolling back behind the table several feet away.
A puzzle? Not a bad…
“Close!” Skwilly’s voice hit a new octave as he shouted.
Clo…Valgrin slammed his eyes shut…sed? Did I guess right? The startled groan from the bookwyrm indicated that the creature hadn't managed the same. Valgrin leapt in the opposite direction from Malcolm, ducking under a desk set up as a sign-up station. They got that part right about the library, sign-ups everywhere. Valgrin curled into a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible. A gap between the modesty panel and the desktop offered a limited view of the brown-scaled creature rubbing its eyes. Taking a risk, he unfolded himself slightly and peeked around the desk, noticing Malcolm still using the table for cover. Malcolm gave him a thumbs-up. For some reason, that gesture eased some of the tension he felt in his shoulders.
The bookwyrm let out a guttural growl, unleashing its fiercest lance of fire yet toward Valgrin’s former position. The flames struck the towering shelves of books, splitting on impact. Fiery tendrils writhed upward, licking at the ceiling, while others coiled hungrily around the stacks. The crackling of flames carried a furious, almost desperate intensity. The beast roared again, pouring more energy into its unrelenting torrent of fire. Wooden shelves smoked, embers glowing like tiny stars before bursting into full-blown flames. Nearby, a chair caught the blaze, its fabric charring as fiery tongues danced across its smoldering surface. Seconds later, the chair had become a bonfire—the flames threating the remaining furniture in the area. The jet of flames went out immediately, leaving behind a burning chair and bookcase. In less than a minute, the books crashed to the ground, unharmed. Nothing remained of the case Valgrin had used for cover.
“Hmph. Look’s like it’s down to one of you.” The monster’s voice boomed over the crackling fires.
The bookwyrm turned just as Malcolm stood up and thrust his hands toward the creature. A small ball of lightning exploded right above its snout. A shriek echoed off the wall. The creature covered its eyes again, shaking its head violently. Valgrin couldn’t be certain, but there seemed to be fresh wounds right under the eyes.
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He watched as Malcolm bolted toward the chaotic mess of books and furniture on the room's far side, away from Valgrin. Skwilly took advantage of the distracted beast. The priggy ran past Valgrin, sliding to a stop on a tiled section of floor. With a series of grunts the priggy pointed his pink snout towards the roaring monster. The air surrounding the bookwyrm erupted into a dazzling storm of countless, shimmering lights. They flickered and buzzed, each one a tiny beacon of chaos. It reminded Valgrin of fireflies, a lot of fireflies. Skwilly dashed back to Valgrin's side with urgency.
“Range shorter on that spell?” He asked the priggy.
“Yes, and I’m not a brave warrior type like you two—so I waited until I could do it safely.”
“Smart move, which is significantly better than stupid bravery. Means you actually helped and can do so again.” Valgrin smiled when Skwilly pushed against his hand to get his ear scratched. Something on the chair popped. The fire had dwindled, but something inside still burned, the air hazy from the lingering smoke.
“I’d rather be back in the straw, but didn’t know how long it’d be distracted.” Skwilly’s snout motioned to the display by the entrance.
“Well, you stay over here and out of harm’s way.” Valgrin pointed to a spot where the desk set against the wall. He looked back at the display, scratching at his chin while he stared. That display is more geared towards kids and either an elementary school library or a public library. Did it show up out of one of our memories, or is it a clue? If we have to solve a puzzle, what puzzle do we need to solve?
The bookwyrm growled menacingly, its eyes narrowing at the lights flickering relentlessly around its head. Valgrin watched as the creature attempted to evade the persistent glowing motes, but to no avail—the lights clung to it like a relentless swarm. Its shoulders sagged as it expelled a heavy, exasperated sigh. It thrust both arms forward and small streams of fire flowed from each fingertip.
The fiery tendrils exploded outward in a blazing arc, sweeping across one hundred eighty degrees around the bookwyrm. The streams of fire writhed and twisted with a life of their own, snaking around corners with searing intensity.
“Skwilly, it’s going to find me any time now. I’ll jump up when it does and make sure it focuses on me. You stay huddled right there. Hopefully it’ll ignore you.”
The priggy nodded and then curled up tighter, eyes squeezed shut.
A few moments later, one tendril rounded the corner of the desk, stopping and retracting almost as soon as it rounded the corner.
“He’s found me, remember stay small……”
The desk exploded, a blazing tendril of fire slicing through the middle. Valgrin jumped to the side. He noticed a few pieces of desk now laid on top of Skwilly. The priggy blinked a few times, letting Valgrin know it still lived. His katar ready, Valgrin widened his stance. The lash of flame came at him. He threw his arm in front of him, reflexes and game training taking over.
The lash hit the wrist guard of the katar, sending pain vibrating through Valgrin’s forearm. The second lash landed, with no affect.
<
The information flashed and disappeared before Valgrin could dismiss the notification. Ice Shield? That wasn’t on the stat sheet. I’ll take anything I can get though, not complaining. The Structure remained silent.
The bookwyrm began moving toward Valgrin, a tendril of flame in each hand. With a flick of its wrist, one tendril snapped forward cracking as it snapped back. Fire whips?
“I’m tired of thinking of you as the bookwyrm. Do you have a name?” Valgrin watched closely, ready to dodge, if needed.
The bookwyrm stopped moving, his fire whips floated around his knees. He cocked his head, then cocked it to the other side. “I don’t recall anyone ever asking me that in a dungeon setting before. At my library and out and about, sure.”
“So you’ve done other dungeons?”
The brown cheeks darkened in color, slightly. “Um, I have had need for a quick source of funds in the past.” It tried to wave the dancing lights away.
“And that need drove you to be here today?” Still not finding anything to hint at the puzzle. What else could it be?
The creature’s head bobbed. “Aye, I find myself in need of extra moneys on a somewhat regular basics. The name is Lyrkan-Taleen, Lyrk to make it quicker. Yours?”
“Well, it’s a bit more complicated. Best way to put it, I’m being on-boarded as Valgrin de’ Var, Valgrin to keep it quick. The other guy is Malcolm Steele.”
“I’ve heard stories of a Father Steele—he hasn’t been seen in the EverNever, supposedly, for decades.”
“Not positive how this works, but from what we were told, that was sort of him.” Valgrin kept glancing around the room while monitoring Lyrk.
“He was associated with a couple of high-ranking Creators.”
Valgrin hesitated in answering. “I don’t know if we can get into that.”
“Ah, you were told to go by your on-boarding names. Your names before coming to the EverNever were different—I’d guess Mark Keltner for Father Steele, which would probably make you Keith Wilson?”
“Guilty on both counts.” Can’t get after us for someone else figuring it out, I hope.
“Well, I’ll have to be more careful about future contracts. I don’t want to kill a couple of Creators, especially ones as famous as you, but as I said earlier, I’m not a breacher. Just have another question to add to the process.”
“I started thinking we might come to a different conclusion. You said you didn’t have to kill us.”
“True, but this isn’t anywhere close enough to qualify as nearly killing. Now, even if you haven’t had ample time to think through whatever it is you’re stalling for—times up.”
A fire-whip shot through the air. Valgrin blocked it with his new ice shield. The whip fell to the floor, forcing Lyrk to snap it back. The second whip cracked against the shield. Valgrin sensed it took some damage, but it didn’t threaten the shield’s integrity. He spent a quick thought wondering how he knew that.
The bookwyrm kept up the attack, one whip, then the next. Valgrin ducked, danced, and blocked, but knew he couldn’t keep it up. His shield would fail soon, and it would all be over.
He ducked under the next lash and took a deep breath. “Skwilly!” He shouted, then closed and shielded his eyes. A series of flares brightened his eyelids. After they stopped, he saw Lyrk squinting and vigorously rubbing his eyes. The fire-whips were gone.
Hoping to get the outcome he wanted, Valgrin activated Light Frost, aiming at the floor around Lyrk. His thoughts pushed for a pattern for the frost area. Valgrin pictured a straight line two feet wide, the frost followed his direction. Lyrk made a move for the crashing noise Valgrin created with a chair. He slipped, unable to gain traction—unable to see or slither distracted the bookwyrm. Valgrin dashed toward the entrance, motioning Skwilly to make the display. Valgrin slid under an intact table, hoping the chair legs and other furniture along the floor would hide him.
Sitting there, panting, he watched Lyrk reset himself. The frost no longer caused an issue and the way the bookwyrm was moving his head, Valgrin assumed its vision had improved. The degree of improvement, he didn’t know.
Puzzle. I don’t think there were any clues in our conversation. Has to be something we’d be able to figure out—that is, if it’s a fair puzzle. What if someone rigged it?
A loud crash and Lyrk’s scream brought Valgrin’s head up in time to see an arc of electricity dance on the creature’s snout. The bookwyrm had bounced against a wall, cracking it. One arm dangled at Lyrk’s side—the other clawing at its eyes again. A dark cloud of smoke billowed toward Valgrin. As it got closer, he saw a human figure in the midst. Malcolm slide down on the floor and crawled next to Valgrin.
“Figured if we’re going down, we’ll do it side by side. Have little more to offer other than healing and melee, not sure how I’d fare against brown and scaly. Since I hadn’t used the lightening thingy before, Sandy allowed me one more shot at half-value, it was more surprise than actual damage.” Malcolm pointed back at the struggling Lyrk, then turned back to Valgrin. “Any luck on the puzzle?”
“Been trying to think what the puzzle might be. No luck so far. It has to be something we could figure out if they are playing fair. Room color?” Valgrin stared at the bookwyrm. “Red for fire, but the other two colors make little sense for what we faced.”
Malcolm looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds. “Got nothing here.”
An explosion shook the library. Bright orange and yellow flames rolled across the floor towards the pair.
“Not much time, if that has range,” Malcolm shouted.
Valgrin stood up and pointed his katar at the wave of fire. “Ice Wall…um…eight feet across, five feet tall, two feet thick.” The surrounding air turned cold. A wall of translucent white ice stood in front of them.
Malcolm pointed. “Good thinking, but I doubt that’s a long-term solution.”
“I know. Colors, keys, what else do we have?” Valgrin paced the floor.
“Ourselves, knowledge we’re supposed to have. We’re some of the primary Creators, so we’re told,” Malcolm shouted over his shoulder, his eyes watching the wall.
“Yeah…uh…wait. Primary colors? But what does that tell us?” Valgrin shouted.
“We can mix and make all the other colors. Positions on the color wheel.” Malcolm turned back to Valgrin. “Your wall is dripping on this side—we only have seconds maybe minutes at the most, I’d venture to guess. Who knew one stupid monster would take us out like this?”
Valgrin stopped mid-pace and stared at Malcolm. “Five, three, and then one opponent. Prime numbers, primary colors…what does that mean?”
Flames danced through a small hole in the ice, water ran along the floor.
Valgrin yelled at Malcolm to get back, then he turned to run further away. His gaze fell on the pump in the middle of the display. “Prime the pump! Malcolm, you move faster, go hit that pump and try to get something out of it.”
He watched Malcolm sprint to the display. Three pumps in the fire stopped. Lyrk walked through the remaining ice wall, chunks crashing and sliding across the floor.
“Took you long enough.” The bookwyrm said as he picked imaginary lint off his chest.