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  [Sigurd]

  What followed Jackson’s tremendous bellow, was a lesson in trickery and blood. A reminder that plans can be defeated and that all the prep in the world can mean nothing if you’ve judged things wrong from the beginning.

  And they had surely done that.

  Everything went wrong in the barest of seconds as soon as they crossed the threshold of the chamber.

  Jackson ran forwards sliding on the ice as he brought his shield to bear, ready to bash the cat. His yelling obscured what Sigurd remembered hearing only now – after the fact – a hissing coming from over his left shoulder. Nonetheless, at the time, Sigurd missed it.

  Jackson, sliding forwards, yelped in surprise as the cat vanished, moving so quickly as to have teleported, and the man continued forwards slamming into a block of ice they hadn’t seen and shattering it into a barrage of icy flechettes that cut him up nastily.

  He grunted at the impact and at the pain that must be prevalent. It was extremely lucky that Jenna had got off her first healing spell, otherwise, Sigurd was sure that they might have lost someone due to the events that followed.

  Sigurd remembered whirling around in surprise, searching for the cat that had seemingly vanished from in front of Jackson. Of course, now he realised that it hadn’t been in front of them at all and that it was nought but an image of the cat.

  From the beginning, it had been off to the side of the chamber and like all natural predators, it hadn’t gone for the strongest, but rather the weakest. And in its’ eyes, it was the small virtually unarmed girl that was weakest. And, as their unfortune had it, they had placed her closest to it by mistake.

  A comedy of errors.

  As Sigurd turned around, he saw the cat leap, claws extended and jaws open wide, a shriek pouring out. It clattered into Jenna, knocking her back and opening a gash in her chest. Mage robes were not armour, but they held at least a small measure of protection against cutting attacks, and the tough fabric had held up to much of the damage.

  Kael shot the cat with an arrow that sank in deep to its flank, but it only slowed the next attack that gripped onto her shoulder, the cat’s claws dragging her neck forwards towards the waiting jaws. Waiting to bite down and crush her life out.

  A fireball greeted it, splashing over its sensitive snout and causing the cat to jump away, raking down Jenna’s bare front as it did so, shrieking in pain.

  They killed it shortly after that, but the damage had been done.

  Her robe was torn to shreds, held together by the blood and gore that poured forth from her wounds. Long dark slashes that ran from her left shoulder, across her chest and down to her waist, another set marred her left arm, that reminded Sigurd of the ribbons that he saw as a kid in the capitals celebrations.

  “Jenna!” He heard himself scream, as he snapped back to the present and worry swept away the adrenalin that had fuelled him.

  Weary tiredness set in instead and for a brief moment he felt like slumping down and giving up. His feet hurt from the walking, his hands hurt from gripping his weapon and his shoulders protested in agony from the armour and the fighting they had done. His hips hurt from the weird walk he had been doing to balance on the icy floors and his mind was numb from worry.

  “Shit” Sebastien swore, angrily. At himself Sigurd assumed.

  “Guys, does anyone have any healing left at all” Lore said softly but frantically.

  Beset with worry, it was surprising he heard her at all, but he did, and it set him and the others into a wild motion, as they rifled through belts and backpacks in search of something. Anything that would help.

  “I’ve got a bandage” He called out.

  “Another bandage here.”

  “Gauze.”

  “Basic medicinal herbs.”

  “Regen tablet.”

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  “Numbing cream and sedatives.”

  The others all called out, though who said what he couldn’t say.

  “Shit” Sebastien said again.

  Sigurd thought fast, what could he do? There must be something. Then it came to him.

  “I’ve got a max strength healing potion at home.” He said.

  They missed it in all the panic, so he repeated louder.

  “I’VE GOT A MAX STRENGTH HEALING POTION AT HOME” he shouted.

  “Yes!” Sebastien exclaimed taking charge once more. “Kael cut away the fabric, Lore, lift her head and give her the sedatives and some water. Jackson?”

  “Yeah”

  “Get those herbs and grind them up in some water, make a paste.”

  “On it”

  “Sigurd, let’s bandage her, then we’re going to run back to yours and get that healing potion, it’s a long run but I think we can manage it.”

  They all set to work, worry for Jenna speeding our actions.

  ***20 minutes later***

  “STOP!!!!” Sebastien called out.

  “What? Why?” Kael questioned angry at the delay. Jenna was like his little sister.

  “Let’s make a stretcher, it’s going to be easier to carry her and hopefully it will speed us up a lot. I’ve got rope in my bag so get some wood.”

  They had made it back through the ice levels with difficulty and had nearly slipped and fallen in when crossing the ocean. Luckily, the ice run had a nice set of stairs that dropped them off at the top, above the flat starting platform and yet were hidden somehow from the other side, they didn’t have time to decipher how. Sigurd praised the Gods for that small mercy and wondered how they would have managed it without them.

  They rushed onwards.

  Making it through the safe floor and into the boss arena, where Sebastien had called for them to stop. Thankfully, the monsters hadn’t bothered them on their way back.

  Stretcher? He thought to himself. Good idea, wood, they wanted straight pieces of wood. Branches.

  He rushed off and soon had a small pile of wood that they quickly lashed together with Sebastien’s rope, it was thick braided rope, designed for descending cliffs and so not ideal for lashing together a stretcher, but they made it work.

  He dumped spare clothes on the wooden frame to make it more comfortable and then tied Jenna to the makeshift stretcher so she wouldn’t fall off.

  Jackson and Sebastien picked her up and they ran on, the short floor of the boss arena took only a minute to cross before they were going up the stairs again; just wide enough for them to go sideways with her.

  It was slow, agonisingly slow, but with the healing herbs and the regen tablet Sigurd had hope. Jenna wasn’t getting worse and if they could make it back in time, then the potion would heal her.

  Exiting the stairs, they faced the jungle level again and the densely packed trees made fast travel untenable.

  Picking their way around the thick groves took a while and Lorelei and he focused on clearing a path. Burning and chopping a way through with reckless abandon.

  Halfway through the jungle they slowed down again as Lorelei ran out of mana. Burning a path through the dungeon had really helped progress and it took another 15 minutes to clear the rest of the jungle floor. Forty long minutes for the swamp, the chest high waters and dangerous fish lurking underneath making it treacherous beyond belief. Though they had found a path that kept them much drier this time around, and the few pools they did have to cross went well.

  More familiar with the way back from this point on, Sigurd led. Not taking any time to wonder at the stairs that grew up into the base of one of the trees in the woodland on floor two. Rushing through, they didn’t see any wolves or cats and as they climbed that first tree to the first floor, the snakes and birds didn’t bother them either.

  The last obstacle was the thick grasses of the first floor, and the group pushed through them in short order, rushing up the steps and into the wider world.

  Despite the circumstances of their retreat, it felt good to emerge into fresh air and sunlight. Being underground for nearly two days, two days of constant battle wore you down and as pleasant as the dungeon had been, there was a refreshing sense of relief that washed over him as the evening sun settled in the trees, cocooned in the branches like a precious egg in a bird’s nest.

  He smiled for a second before the gravity of the situation lifted all the brevity of relief from him.

  At a dead run, they leapt down the mountain, strides confident and surreal as they dodged boulders, gravel and tree roots that would trip them under any other occasion. Yet guided by some sense of sure footedness they made hasty progress, as if the Goddess herself was guiding them to Jenna’s salvation.

  Shortly the harsh boulders and sharp stony ground morphed into the sparse barren treeline of the approaching forest. And it wasn’t long before the signs of civilisation approached.

  Glancing back, Jenna looked rough. Where before the limited healing she had had staved off the wounds, this had long ago run out and she had gone grey in colour, blood still leaking out of her wounds. The clothes that lined her stretcher were no longer fresh, but rather dark red and sopping with the blood that seeped out. It was a lot of blood and secretly he wondered if they were going to make it.

  Thankfully, she was still unconscious. Otherwise she would certainly be groaning and gasping at the horrendous jolts she was experiencing as they ran.

  First, they passed the hunters huts, little shelters and treehouses, then the footprints of those out gathering food, long dried as summer had set in, and the evidence of the rainy season evaporated.

  The smell of smoke and fire floated around as they got closer to the edges of the forest, and Sigurd was expecting to hear the ringing of the blacksmiths hammer any moment now.

  At this time of day, the blacksmith would usually be working still, finishing up a batch of nails to send off to the guilds in the cities.

  There was no ringing of metal on metal as he got to the walls, but Sigurd put it behind him as they rushed home.

  Fumbling with the key, he unlocked the door and rushed inside, slamming it closed.

  “Quick, on the table,” Seb told Jackson as the two of them manoeuvred her around the furniture.

  Meanwhile, Sigurd rushed to the attic, up the rickety old ladder that the carpenters apprentice had made for him – free of charge – and across the boards haphazardly laid down on the cross beams.

  In an old leather-covered chest, he had a reserve supply of gear from adventuring, including his old axe, though it had seen better days, and a few healing salves and potions. As well as replacement leather armour pieces and a whetstone.

  He grabbed one of the potions, looking at the dusty label that had been sun bleached long ago and squinted.

  Yes

  This was the one.

  He turned, not bothering to close the chest, and hurried to the table in the kitchen.

  Jenna was lying there, still, and the others crowded around her.

  “Move it, move it, make some space…” He growled out.

  Lifting her head up gently, Sigurd unstopped the bottle and forced a few mouthfuls of the potion down her throat. Pouring a bit into all the wounds and then over the new bandages that Sebastien had out.

  While he re-wrapped her wounds, Sigurd gave her the rest of the potion. It was slow getting her to drink the potion while still out of it, but it had to be done.

  Colour returned to her quickly as the magic did its job, the sickly grey pallor of death that loomed over her receded, it wasn’t her time yet. They’d made sure of it. He sighed in relief. Feeling the weight lift from his shoulders. She would make it; she would make it.

  Collectively they all relaxed as her chest started to rise and fall in an easier motion.

  “Good grief, that was close,” Sebastien said, still panting from the run back, relief evident in his features.

  “Too close”

  “Way too close”

  They lapsed into silence, watching her breathe. The sounds of their heavy breathing filling the silence. The flat out run having knocked them all about. Once he’d caught his breath, Sigurd smiled, getting up and making them all a cup of Aeldra, they had earned it, that was for sure.

  He handed a mug to all of the others when a sharp knock at the door startled him, making Sigurd jump and spilling some of his drink on the floor. Hard and fast the knocking came once more.

  Shit, what now, he thought as he got to his feet.