No one knew how to handle the heart, least of all the Crawler that turned to gag.
Even Svel, quite literally above the rest, looked puzzled. She considered the organ for a moment, then parted the robes above her chest, lined up her nails between her breasts, and ripped her chest open.
Blood spilled out, dribbling down her and catching on garment, until it dripped on the coffin below. The Crawlers, Axen included, spilled away in panic, weapons drawing, eyes searching, hunting for the source of the crimson liquid.
Daniel stared at her, the only one remaining by the pulsing heart.
With her chest open, she stuck a hand further in, digging around for a moment before extracting her own. From there, she bent over on her invisible platform and lowered her own organ to compare the two.
âNow when did that happenâ¦â she murmured, her free hand holding her chest open while the skin desperately tried to mend itself.
When nothing happened despite the appearance of blood, the Crawlers returned in segments.
The first of them was Axen, who looked down at the heart, burdened, his mission completed in the way a cliff might end a road.
Svel shoved her freshly removed heart back into her chest. Daniel was mesmerized by the bizarre display of nonchalant self destruction. At the same time, Axen reached out and touched the bare heart in the sarcophagus.
Axen looked up, tracing the paths of the chains, mouth slack. Svel smiled down at him and wagged a finger.
âBest not to touch what you donât want.â
âWhereâs the Primordial Beast?â Axenâs hand quaked, but remained, fingers twitching with each pointless heartbeat.
The surrounding Crawlers wore various masks of confusion, worry, and fear â all but the fourth splinter leader, who looked between Axen and Daniel, following the shared path of their eyes.
âIâve no reason to answer you, little lordling,â she said, tone quick as a whip.
âWeâll destroy it,â he threatened and Svelâs laughter ripped through Danielâs nerves. He had to clasp a hand over his mouth to stop the compulsion to laugh with her, giggles boiling over and out of his lips.
âDo you think we name things âbeastsâ because they kill us, or because we must kill them?â
Agitation steadied Axenâs hand, but desperation widened his eyes and slicked his hair to his brow, a wild quality to his cracking composure.
âHow do we reach the Primordial Beast?â he demanded, fingers sinking into the pulpy heart that mended its flesh around them.
âItâs a trick question,â she reassured, standing straight, giving herself a shake and dust off that rattled her chains. âThe answer is both.â
âTell me,â Axen ordered, hand fully encompassed in the flesh of the heart that grew around it like a tumor.
Svel glanced at Daniel, who had just barely swallowed the last of the giggles. The surrounding Crawlers had given him a wide berth. âYou left the only one who will get to it die alone,â she hissed, each word harsher than the last, eyes snapping back to Axen as she leaned down, fingers curled like she might reach down his throat and rip his pathetic, weak, cowardice tongue out of his mouth and feed it to the godforsaken family he worships like a fly would a pile of shit, the fucking cunt. âWell, Daniel, whereâs the Primordial Beast?â
Axen pried his eyes from the demon to stare at the newborn he left for dead. Daniel shrugged helplessly.
âThere you have it, Lord Axen. Ta-ta for now.â She was gone as abruptly as she had appeared.
Daniel could see the grind of gears in Axenâs head, but Mayline spoke first. âMy lord? Whatâs happened?â she asked, looking between the two men, concern deepening the lines of her features.
Axen shoved the still-beating heart into a leather pouch, cinching it by two strings and tying it to one of the straps wrapped around his torso. âA witch appeared and spoke to us in half truths and riddles. Her madness threatened to infect.â
His pale eyes leveled with Daniel, expression unreadable, but a judgment made. âBut Danielâs connection with his patron is powerful, Irel blessed us with her protection. Praise be.â
Several of the Crawlers echoed his final statement, clasping hands on Danielâs shoulders and sharing smiles. The most enthusiastic echo was Mayline, who cheered and whooped, then threw her arms around him, the magic limb warm against his cheek. âPraise be!â
But others were not so easily convinced, guided by the fourth splinter leader whoâs cat-like eyes flicked between the two men.
Daniel barely noticed the looks, his own attention enraptured with the leather pouch. He yearned to dive across the sarcophagus and snatch it away, hold it, own it, enjoy it. He swallowed, saliva thick and pooling in his mouth, the feelings so intense he looked down to his hands to make sure they were his own.
It was Svel. He knew it. His wish to her connected them just like her wish to him did. But logic alone struggled to dampen the hunger.
When Axen turned away from the heartâs former resting place, though, it became apparent Daniel was not alone in his hunger. The room quaked, subtle at first, then not so subtle.
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The dungeon let out a cavernous moan, its ancient and alien howl bringing pebbles down from the roof of the cavern. Then rocks. Then boulders. The room was collapsing in on itself like a dying star, the core source of its energy removed by an outsider.
The Crawlers moved quick, but couldnât predict the denaturing of the cavern around them. The first person crushed by a boulder twice their size didnât get the chance to scream, their upper body flattened in a singular crunch. The second was screaming before they were hit.
âTo Mayline!â Axen yelled over the growing commotion, his order entirely unnecessary. The golden woman was chanting as fast her lips could move, ripping runes off her skin and stretching them overhead in wide arcs. She was building a bubble, rocks bouncing off of it.
Daniel turned back towards Theo and Kire, who had remained a ways back to peer at the pool she had become fascinated with. Kire was crouched down, pressed against the legs of the stone mage who deftly cast tumbling boulders aside, building around them.
Satisfied they were safer than he, he stayed within Maylineâs protection, straying outside of it only to help drag in a Crawler whoâs leg had been crushed.
The room was done for, maybe the entire dungeon. Axen had made it to safety, as had four of the remaining Crawlers. The rest were gone behind the growing wall of stone that accumulated around Maylineâs barrier, crushed instantly or otherwise buried alive.
The tumbling of stone continued several minutes after the survivors had been entombed within Maylineâs barrier. When the movement outside finally ceased, Axen pulled a sending stone from his pouch, tapping it a few times. It buzzed in response.
Satisfied, Axen took a seat on the ground. Two Crawlers, Moolio and the fourth splinter leader, followed suit, but the other survivor took to tending the injuredâs leg. The same healer who had set Danielâs arm.
The only who stayed on their feet was Mayline, who tended to the barrier with careful precision.
In the distance, a grind and shift of earth could be heard â Theo, working at their escape with methodical banging.
And so, they waited.
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The excavation of the dungeon divers took an hour, by Danielâs internal clock. He figured that wasnât worth much anymore, but when Theo had finally unearthed them via a rocky tunnel they all had to climb out of, it was dark outside.
They were closer to the surface than he thought. When he completed his own journey out of the tight tunnel Theo dug, he remained on his knees for a while longer, staring at the view with sickened dismay.
Close to the surface and still within town. Maybe a quarter mile from the entrance. It felt like a sick joke, to be so close to where they began, and when he saw the tired faces of the Crawlers emerging, he knew he wasnât alone in the thought.
He wasnât sure exactly how far away they were, though, because the entrance to the dungeon was gone, as was most of the town. The destruction of the dungeon had been a sinkhole for the scrappy village, swallowing buildings and occupants alike.
A portion of the walls around the village still stood, guarding nothing. Protecting no one.
The surviving village people, slim in number as they had become, were occupying varying states of grief. Some cursed and screamed. Others sobbed over unmoving bodies. Others still took stock of what they had and what they could scavenge.
Axen was the last to emerge from the destroyed dungeon. His even gaze swept the scene, moving over each point of interest without a deviation in expression. Finally he sighed, and turned to his beaten team.
âMake camp outside the village â use one of those old farm houses. We leave for Mast in the morning. Tell the locals if they come with, weâll get them housed in the city.â
Low as morale was, when Axen turned to help the healer move the crippled Crawler, the others kicked into gear. A low gear, but one that brought about the command, eventually.
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Hours later, deeper into the night, the order was complete. The survivors had bundled around one of the decrepit farm houses, not resting inside for fear of collapse, but using its structure as protection against the wind.
Theo, in her last grand, exhausted gesture of the night, heaved a boulder against the wall, perpendicular with it, and molded it upwards. A secondary guard against the elements.
In the center of their makeshift camp a fire burned spare wood, primarily from the farmhouse itself. Half a dozen of the townsfolk managed to survive and chose to follow the Crawlers to Mast, but they kept together, wary of the bringers of destruction. Now, though, they slept.
Theo, bizarrely, had tucked herself inside the rock she brought over. Kire leaned against it, sitting up right, never quite looking asleep.nMayline lay like a loyal dog, close to Axenâs feet, who in turn was sitting on a stump, keeping first watch.
Twenty one had gone into the dungeon, including both Crawler and Reborn. Nine emerged, one never to walk again, Daniel had overhead from the healerâs debriefing. The toll of today was painful in its measurability.
Despite the exhaustion of the day, Daniel found himself tossing and turning under the single fur he had been allocated. The hard ground poked into his bones, aggravated his broken arm, but physical discomfort wasnât what plagued him. A few frustrated rolls later, and he found himself facing Axen. Their eyes met.
They were both exhausted, but the shared burden failed to bring them together. He couldnât bring himself to hate Axen, he didnât know him well enough for such a strong emotion. Butâ¦
âWas it worth it?â Daniel asked, voice low so as not to disturb the others.
Axen leaned forward, hands on the knees of his tattered underclothes. He brought his fingers together, clasped them around one another and rubbed his swollen knuckles. He glanced down at the bag containing the heart. It thrummed against the stump.
Axen signed. âIf a bee stings for its hive, destined to die for it, is it worth it?â
Daniel wondered if bees were a constant in every world, every universe. He wondered more if everyone outside of Earth was cursed to speak in riddles and analogies. âMaybe.â
Axen spread his palms and pushed his face into his hands, sucking in a breath between grit teeth. Then he smoothed his hair back against his scalp and sat up straight again. âYeah, maybe,â he agreed. A second later, he added, âYou should rest.â
Daniel didnât answer, but rolled to his back. Sleep didnât come easy, but it fell upon him before he could see the sun emerge over distant mountains.
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âHi Daniel.â
Svel was crouched in front of Axen, looking up at the man who couldnât see her. Daniel lifted his torso off the ground and leaned on his side, careful of his splinted forearm. Axen didnât react.
âI donât want to do this, Iâve changed my mind. Let me die on Earth.â
Svelâs mouth split into a wicked smile, but she didnât look over at him. âIf only it were so easy.â
She lifted one of her hands, pointed a talon at Axenâs face. âHe knows when youâre lying and our interests donât align. Be careful with him. Better yet, wish for me to skin him alive.â
Daniel squinted at Axen, examined the chilled pools of ice that colored his eyes, ignoring the call for bloodlust like a parent would ignore a childâs call for sweets. âHe can read minds?â
âMore like a lie-detector. Tell him the truth, but be mindful of how much truth. Anywayâ¦â
Svel stood, turning at last to face her tool, warm affection spreading across her features through loose muscles and fine lines around her eyes. âYou did good. Good behavior is rewarded,â she sang, skipping over to him, chains clanking with the excessive movement.
She leaned into her knees, lowering herself to his level and reaching for his left arm. He flinched, but she was patient, kind, and unnatural. She took the arm slowly, unraveling the bandage and splint with expertise.
The wound ached, the lack of brace causing a pressure on his insides that made him bite his tongue.
âHow are you handling the Hunger?â she asked, cradling his arm between her long fingers. Their icy nature helped to numb the pain.
Daniel knew what she meant, even though he didnât. His eyes wandered over to the pouch beside Axen, and his stomach lurched when they found it. He salivated, unable to see the heart but imagining its pulse, wanting to sink his teeth into it.
He looked away, quick as he could. âNot well. Is this some burden of you being my patron?â
Svel grinned her own fanatic hunger. âNot exactly. Weâll take it slow,â she reassured. He expected a patronizing tone, an anger, but all he got was sincerity, her swings in mood impossible to predict. She moved a hand away from him and put it on her own.
The movement pulled his gaze, and he noticed she had her own ring of scars now, matching his own. He didnât get a chance to ask about them before she was peeling off her skin and he had to look away. The squish and stretch was grotesque but brief, and when she was done she held a long, thin strip of gray flesh.
She lowered it to his injured arm, right at the wrist. She pressed it in, smoothing it out in a ring around his limb. The flesh grafted to his skin and sank in, flattening itself until the only variation was in color, the texture smooth.
A wave of thirst, hunger, and need washed over Daniel, intense but gone in a moment, much to his relief. In its place was absence. The pain in his arm was gone.
He looked down, and the new flesh had faded to a soft white tinge and the bruising in his arm was healed. He stretched out the limb, flexed his fingers, twisted them this way and that. The limb was as good as new.
âA gift, free of charge,â she said, slapping his arm as she did. Then she stood, gave him a pat on the head, and he fell back into slumber.