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Goblin Dungeon
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WAVING AT MY SMALL army to come to a halt, my senses were niggling at me. Something new had just entered the twisting passageways. It was too distant for me to make out exactly what it was, but I knew it wasn’t any of the usual creatures I’d faced dozens of times by now.
“What is it?” Dacrith asked. Tall for a fairy, he was about five-foot-six, which was eight inches shorter than me. Even more handsome than most fae, he had shoulder length silver hair with golden tips, gray eyes with gold flecks and moved with deadly, sinuous grace. He hadn’t told me what he’d done to be banished here and I hadn’t asked. We’d become brothers-in-arms and had gained a fragile trust. He’d drawn his shiny black sword and was balanced on the balls of his feet in preparation for battle. In the past few weeks since we’d teamed up, he’d been training me how to use my dual swords. I would probably never be a master swordsman like he was, but at least I was far more proficient than I had been.
“I’m not sure,” I replied, then glanced at Hexam when the three-headed Cerberus loped over to me. “Whatever it is, it’s going to die just like everything else in this dungeon,” I added with a mirthless grin. Nasty chuckles and other sounds of amusement came from the motley band of Unseelie warriors that had become my entourage. They enjoyed killing almost as much as Dacrith and I did. We’d had a few other creatures with us to begin with, but they’d all been killed during our fights. Now it was just us fairies left.
Hexam led the way, unerringly locking onto the newcomer that had been sent to the goblin prison either as punishment or for sport. Prince Sindarian and his Unseelie Court were watching us from the plush comfort of their palace. I could feel their eyes on us even if no one else in our group could. They’d never seen a combatant like me before. I wore mismatched armor from the fallen Seelie and Unseelie warriors who had been bested by their foes. I hadn’t bothered to find all black armor to blend in with Dacrith and his warriors. I wanted to stand out from the rest of the inmates.
Even without the dual colored armor, my wings would have ensured that I would be noticed. None of the other fairies could call on their wings in this place. Our magic was subdued to the point where we couldn’t even feel it. Even so, some of my talents were still available to me. Sensing my foes was one of them. I’d honed that skill to a fine art now and could spread it out into the distance. Not much could get past my mental wards anymore. Whatever this new creature was, it wasn’t moving. It expected us to come to it and we weren’t going to disappoint it.
Low fog hung just above the stone floor. Our feet splashed in puddles that we couldn’t see. Noisome fungi clung to the walls every now and then, shedding a weak yellow glow for a few feet. Without the aid of the brownies, we would have starved to death or died from thirst long ago. The small beings were forced to work here. They kept us fed and clothed without complaint so their families wouldn’t pay the price for their disobedience.
Once upon a time, the thought of the injustice they were suffering would have filled me with rage. Now, I didn’t really care. I’d embraced the darkness within me just as the Seer had told me to. I was no longer capable of feeling remorse, pity or tenderness. All I felt was the need for revenge and a strange camaraderie with the man known as death. Dacrith had been imprisoned here for eons, or that was how long it felt in dungeon time. Time moved faster here. One hour in the outside world was akin to a full day here. Messing with time was just another way to torture us, I assumed.
Proving the new inhabitant of the labyrinth was dangerous, all other beasts and beings had fled from the area. It was eerily empty of life as Hexam led us through the hallways towards our newest adversary. The hound came to a stop and whined. His right head turned to look at me in worry. He couldn’t talk, but his expression said it all. He didn’t know what it was that had been sent here, but he didn’t like it.
Reaching the Cerberus, I picked up on what he was probably sensing as well. “I can feel magic,” I murmured, knowing my companions would be able to hear me easily.
“That’s impossible,” Dacrith said as he joined me. The others hung back, knowing we wanted to talk alone. “No one can use magic here,” he reminded me.
“I did,” I retorted. “It’s possible to get around the dampening spell. Whatever this thing is, it found a way.”
We’d roamed through the halls in search of prey for weeks, but the passageways were extensive and seemingly never-ending. I wasn’t familiar with this area and I didn’t know the layout. The hallways were sometimes narrow with low ceilings and others were large enough to house a dragon. We wouldn’t know what environment we would be fighting in until we reached our adversary.
At my gesture, our companions clanked back into motion. Despite being my kin, the Unseelie warriors weren’t at all trustworthy. I’d survived three assassination attempts so far from the beings who were supposed to be my allies. Hexam had bitten the head off the first warrior who had tried to end my life during the night. I’d stabbed the second one through the heart myself. Dacrith had killed the third. When it had become obvious I was too well protected to die easily, a few members of our group had slunk away. When we saw them next, they would fall to our blades just like everything else in this place.
Sensing the new creature just ahead, I was pretty sure I knew what it was even before I peeked around the corner. “Well, well,” I murmured. “I didn’t expect to see one of these things in here.”
Dacrith took a look as well, then blinked when he saw the gigantic purple creature. “What is it?” he asked. He’d been locked up in here long before the Dark Prince had become allies with these things.
“It’s a Finlarc sorcerer,” I explained. It had four legs, six arms and wore black leather pants and boots. It’s head and body were covered in purple hair. Its teeth were long and sharp, but these creatures were more than just savage monsters. They were also accomplished magicians. All six hands clutched various weapons, one of which was a black staff with a crystal tip. I could sense magic coming from the clear gemstone.
“These are the allies Sindarian chose to bring to our realm?” Dacrith asked with a derisive sniff. “Which pathetic little world did he scoop them up from?”
“I have no idea,” I said with a shrug and readjusted my shield in preparation for battle. It had been encrusted with filth when the dragon had first given me the scale. Yaren, or one of the other brownies, had cleaned it for me. It now gleamed red with silver patterns on the outside. The inside was pure silver. It was so shiny I could see my reflection in it. The shield was about three feet long and two feet wide at the top, tapering a little at the bottom. So far, it had proven to be impervious to damage from weapons. Now it appeared I was about to discover if it was also resistant to spells.
Hexam joined us and stuck one of his heads around the corner to examine our foe. He growled low in his throat and began to grow. The hallway ahead was large enough for the Finlarc magician to be able to move around easily. We hadn’t even engaged him yet and I already knew he wasn’t going to be easy to take down while he could use magic. That would give him an advantage over us that could prove to be fatal.
“Let’s get this done,” Dacrith said with a gleam of battle lust in his dual toned eyes. “I wonder if its blood is as purple as its hair?” he joked.
“Why don’t we go and find out?” I replied. Closing the visor of my helmet, I stepped into view and strolled towards our newest foe.
