Edgin tore his eyes away from the creature, tipping his head back to look up at the statue he crouched behind. It was the cleric of Tymora. With a jolt, Edgin realized that he recognized her. He hadn’t at first because when he’d seen her earlier, she was wearing a mask. It was the elven woman they’d spoken to during the poetry reading upstairs. The one who hadn’t paid attention to the poem either. Now she was somehow down here, on her knees, staring at the sky and praying to her goddess.
Except she wasn’t really staring at the sky. She was staring into the face of the basilisk that had turned her to stone.
They were in trouble.
The creature charged, butting aside the wrecked bookshelves. Holga raised her axe and came at it from the side, sinking the axe blade deep into its hide. The creature howled and spun toward her, but Holga kept her eyes on the ground.
Big and powerful, but it could also be hurt. “All right, everyone, let’s do this,” Edgin yelled. “Holga needs backup. Attack it from anywhere but the front, and don’t look it in the eyes!”
The others moved at his command. Simon and Alyanna grabbed another of the fallen bookshelves and braced it awkwardly on its side to create a barrier while Simon started casting a spell. Forge ran behind Edgin, grabbing Kira and using his boots to run up the wall with her to the balcony. Good. She’d be relatively safe up there as long as she didn’t meet the creature’s gaze.
Edgin took his reinforced lute off his back. He’d brought it along to the party just in case, but he hadn’t touched it all night. Grabbing it by the neck, he charged and swung it as hard as he could at the basilisk, connecting with its plated body.
It was like hitting stone with a stick. The monster didn’t even flinch.
Edgin scrambled back as the basilisk swung its head toward him, catching him in the chest and knocking him flat to the ground. He rolled to get out from under the creature’s legs before he could be crushed, and for just a split second, he looked up and caught the basilisk’s gaze.
A strange, heavy sensation crawled over Edgin’s limbs. His fingers felt stiff, his tongue suddenly thick in his mouth. The sounds of the battle became distant and muddled. It felt like everything was slowing down, though his heart was still hammering wildly in his chest.
No, no, this couldn’t be happening. He wasn’t going to let it. The others needed him.
With a ragged shout, Edgin forced his sluggish limbs to move, pulling himself to his feet and backing away from the basilisk. With every step, he shrugged off more of the magic that had been trying to take hold of him and turn him into a statue.
That had been close.
Thwarted, the basilisk turned around and lunged at Holga, grabbing her axe blade like it was a toothpick and shaking her like a rag doll. Holga held on stubbornly, keeping her eyes closed as she engaged in a tug-of-war with the creature.
“Simon!” Edgin cried, swinging his lute again, this time aiming for one of the creature’s many legs. “Magic, please! Ideally sometime today!”
“He’s working on it!” Alyanna hollered back. “Stop distracting him!”
A dagger sailed past Edgin’s shoulder and buried itself in the creature’s backside. Edgin glanced behind and above him to see Forge and Kira standing at the balcony railing. Forge had thrown the dagger, and now he and Kira were working to push one of the heavier statues toward the edge of the balcony. They were going to try to drop it on the basilisk. Edgin hastily got out of the way.
But in the meantime, the basilisk won the tug-of-war. Edgin watched, heart in his throat, as it casually tossed Holga across the room. Her axe went flying in the opposite direction, and her body slammed into the bookshelves. She collapsed, curling in on herself in the corner.
“Holga!”
It was Kira screaming.
Edgin dropped to his belly as the creature swung around, barely missing him with its spiked tail. He rolled clear just as Forge and Kira tipped the statue over the rail. It hit the basilisk in the head, shattering against its spikes in an explosion of jagged stone shards. The creature lost its balance under the blow and collapsed onto its stomach, looking momentarily stunned.
“Simon!” Edgin hollered. “Magic!” He listened for the sound of arcane gibberish, something to indicate Simon was attempting a spell, but he heard nothing.
Cursing in frustration, Edgin leaped to his feet and ran to where Holga was lying prone on the floor. She groaned when he touched her shoulder. “Are you all right?” he demanded.
“M-f-fine,” Holga said, slurring the word alarmingly. “Getting a second wind. Any second now.”
“ ’Course you are,” Edgin said, hurriedly rummaging in his vest pocket. The basilisk was slowly getting back to its feet, shaking its head and sending stone shards flying. “Never doubted it. We’re going to fix you up, turn you into a super basilisk killer. How’s that sound?”
“If you s-say so.” Holga looked at Edgin blearily as he pressed two potion vials into her hands. “What’re these?”
“Drink the red one first, then the blue one,” Edgin said. “Side effects may include headache and dizziness, followed by impressive battle advantages.” He got to his feet and stood in front of Holga as the creature growled loudly and swung its head back and forth, as if trying to decide whether to go for Edgin and Holga on one side of the library, or Alyanna and Simon on the other.
Edgin made the choice for it. He downed the other blue potion in his pocket, then took up his lute, belting out the opening lines to a song with his head high and his eyes closed.
There once was a lizard
with a terrible face
Sharp of form but short of grace
Turned all to stone
But throw us a bone
We just want it to give us some space!
The ground shook. Edgin wasn’t looking directly at the basilisk, but he was pretty sure the creature was charging in his general direction. He felt the hot, sour gust of the creature’s breath on his face right before he jumped straight into the air and took flight, opening his eyes as he soared up to the second level of the library, the power of the flying potion holding him aloft.
The basilisk slipped, its clawed feet skittering across the stone as it jumped, snapping at Edgin with its jaws, but it couldn’t reach him. The creature let out a roar of rage and frustration.
“Not listening and not looking at you,” Edgin said airily, and continued to sing his improvised basilisk ballad and pluck at his lute strings.
He glanced down to see Holga back on her feet, the healing potion having taken care of her head wound. She stalked across the room while the basilisk was distracted, snatched up her axe, and, with a murderous cry, she downed the second flying potion and launched herself into the air like a flying storm of muscled death.
“Go Holga!” Kira shouted. “Get it!”
The whites of Holga’s eyes were very large, her jaw clenched with rage as she bore down on the basilisk. At the last second, she veered up sharply, flipping in midair and hovering above the nest of spikes on the creature’s back. She brought her axe down, cleaving into the thing’s neck. The axe blade cut deep, and the basilisk let out a howl of pain as its blood ran freely onto the library floor. Holga yanked out her axe and struck again before the creature could recover, and with a third chop, the basilisk’s head came off its body and rolled across the floor in a red, soppy mess.
“Oh, that’s going to need more than a bandage,” Edgin said, but the joke wasn’t as gratifying as he’d hoped because he started gagging at the stench of basilisk blood that filled the chamber.
He floated slowly to the floor, careful to avoid the spreading blood, while Holga cleaned her axe on the thing’s hide. Forge and Kira came down from the balcony, and Edgin made his way over to where Alyanna and Simon were still behind one of the tipped-over bookshelves.
“You two all right back here?” Edgin asked, looking at Simon, who was sweating profusely, his hands clasped together like he was trying to keep them from trembling.
“We’re fine,” Alyanna said. She had her hand on Simon’s shoulder. “Just a little shaken up.”
Simon pulled away from her. “I couldn’t even get one spell off! Not even one!” He kicked at the ruined bookshelf, scattering books everywhere. “I tried, though!” He looked at Edgin beseechingly. “I really tried! This is why I’ll never be a great sorcerer. Hells, I’ll never be a sorcerer at all if I can’t get my magic to work when I need it. You’ll all throw me out of the group, and I’ll deserve it because I can’t come through for you. It’s hopeless!”
Edgin considered Simon as his rant wound down and he plopped on his backside on the floor. Edgin glanced at Kira, and then came over and sat down beside Simon.
“Look, we don’t have a lot of time for pep talks here, so I’ll make this short and sweet,” he said. “Yes, we could have used your magic in that fight, but Holga had it handled. She came through when we needed her, and I think—I hope—the times when we really need your magic, you’ll come through too.”
“But how can you know that,” Simon asked, “when everything I do is so hit and miss?”
Edgin shrugged. “I know I’m at least going to give you a chance, because you came through for Kira when she needed you in the hag’s cave, and you didn’t even know her then.” He patted Simon’s shoulder. “Maybe you’re not as hopeless as you think.”
Simon blinked. “So, you’re not throwing me out of the group?”
“Well,” Edgin said, “let’s see if we survive this death dungeon first, and then I’ll decide. Sound good?”
Kira swatted him on the arm. “Dad!” she scolded. “We’re not throwing him out.”
Edgin let out a dramatic sigh. “Looks like our leader has spoken. Chin up, Simon, we’re getting out of here.”
“Do I sense a plan in that confident tone of voice?” Forge asked hopefully as he held out a hand to pull Simon to his feet.
“Something resembling a plan is forming,” Edgin confirmed.
“Door’s open now,” Holga called out from across the room. She’d finished cleaning her axe and was standing over by the library exit with her hand on the latch.
“Hold that thought,” Edgin said, and pointed to the gaping hole in the wall where the basilisk had smashed through the bookshelves. “I want to see what’s back there. Maybe we can get behind the scenes of this weird play and take a shortcut out of here.”
“So far, I like this plan,” Forge said.
Simon summoned his lights again and sent them drifting over to the newly exposed tunnel. It curved away into the distance and ended in what looked like a T-shaped intersection. Edgin and Forge again took point, and they set off down the tunnel. At the intersection, Edgin chose to go right, hoping they weren’t being led into a maze, but when he glanced to the left, he saw the tunnel dead-ended in a pile of collapsed stone blocking the passage.
“Looks like the caves here aren’t as sturdy as they look,” Alyanna said. “I wonder how long it took Torlinn to have this all dug out.”
“And how long it took to transport a basilisk down here to be part of a trap,” Simon said. “Can you imagine? I hope there are no more where that came from.”
They continued down the tunnel until, up ahead, Edgin saw light. It looked like more driftglobes, but there were sounds as well—soft snorts, growls, and occasionally some high-pitched yips, like dogs barking. The tunnel curved, and Edgin stopped to peek around the wall to see what lay ahead of them.
“Oh boy,” he said.
“What?” Forge demanded. “Is it another basilisk?”
“Nope, not a basilisk,” Edgin said, “but if you’re in the market for any other monsters, Torlinn’s got quite the menagerie in here.”
The rest of the group came slowly around the corner, where the tunnel emptied out into another large chamber. Two rows of cages were separated by a central pathway. Some of the cages were empty, including one that had its door hanging open. Edgin suspected that up until a few minutes ago, that might have been the basilisk’s home.
The rest of the cages were very occupied.
To their right, a pair of giant spiders rested in the center of a thick white web that filled the cage they were in. Their long, hairy legs made Edgin shudder, and their glossy black eyes fixed on the group as they shuffled cautiously down the path between the cages.
Opposite the spiders was a group of four wolves, two black and two gray, but they were bigger than any wolves Edgin had ever seen in the forests around Targos. Their teeth were large and sharp as their lips pulled back in a chorus of snarls. Bones littered the floor of their cage. Edgin didn’t have to look too closely to know they weren’t animal bones.
“Dire wolves,” Holga said.
“Are you sure?” Alyanna asked.
Holga nodded. “My tribe used to hunt them. Nasty beasts.”
The wolves continued to growl as the group walked past, their eyes glowing yellow in the light of the driftglobes. Kira pressed her body against Edgin’s leg. He put his arm around her shoulders.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Just don’t get near the bars, and we’ll be fine.”
There were some kobolds snoring in the next cage, and in the one across from it there was a huge two-headed snake coiled up in the corner. Edgin was so distracted watching the heads—which were easily the size of his thighs—bob and bump against each other, tongues flicking the air, that he didn’t immediately register that Kira was tugging on his arm.
“Dad,” she whispered.
“It’s all right,” he repeated, thinking she wanted comfort. “The snake’s too big to get through the bars. Seriously, look at the size of that thing.”
“No, Dad, look,” Kira said, tugging harder. “Over there.”
Edgin turned and saw a hunched figure leaning against the back wall of the last cage, wrapped in a filthy brown robe, head bent as if they were asleep. A hood covered their face, obscuring any clues to their identity. As the group drew closer, the figure shifted and raised their head.
Edgin sucked in a breath. Kira dug her fingernails into his arm until it hurt, and the rest of the group just stood frozen.
“T-Torlinn?” Alyanna whispered.