19 - In the Halls of the Warlord

Seconds passed like hours, and minutes like days as Anilith waited for her sight to return. Anxiety wracked her mind, fueled by the crushing weight of helplessness. “What’s happening, Razhik?”

His silence meant more, frightened her more, than any words he could have spoken. “Talk to me! I can’t let him die! He’s only hurt because of me; he can’t die for helping me.”

The sound of falling droplets paused, the stones softly sizzling in its absence. “Can’t talk. Busy.” That was all Razhik said before the drip-dropping resumed, masking the strange sizzling.

The space between two heartbeats felt miles wide as she tried to count them, knowing that with each beat, more of her friend’s life drenched the cold, stone floor. Feeling the chilled metal band on her finger, memories of a conversation with Orion came back to her.

“Kid, you should always keep certain things on you, especially as you have that handy ring. Tell me you’ve at least catalogued it and thrown out the junk. Gods only know what that old coot left rolling around in there!”

She vividly remembered the awkward shame she felt as she answered. “No, I keep just putting my own things away. All it takes is a thought, and they’re back in my hand. Hard to want to sort everything that came with it when I don’t even know where to begin.”

Orion had shaken his head at that. “One of these days, we’re gonna make sure you have the essentials. Fire’s right at the top of the list of somethin’ no adventurer should be without, followed closely by rope. A good old ten-foot pole never hurt, neither, but that’s really a matter of preference. Fire, that’s a must, though. Too many folks have died for not havin’ a fire.”

They’d never gotten around to it. Anilith was certain that this trip would be like all the others, and they’d wind up back in Spokane before long. In the excitement to get into the Forest, not anticipating how far in over their heads they’d find themselves, she hadn’t even considered grabbing the most basic supplies at the outpost.

Not knowing what else to do, she decided to put her hopes in Mingus. “Come on, you old codger, don’t fail me now. Fire!” She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to happen, asking her ring for fire, but the result was more alarming than she anticipated. Flint and steel would have been nice; a torch would have been awesome. Mingus didn’t leave anything so…typical for her.

A surge of warmth blasted over her, a warm orange glow lighting her eyelids, which, she now realized, were sealed shut from a head wound. She scrambled back to a comfortable distance, getting ready to summon water, when she decided to be more specific with her request, and a waterskin fell into one hand, while a rag fell into the other. Soaking it, she used the cloth to wipe the blood from her eyes, the crust slowly flaking off.

When her eyes finally blinked open, mildly blinded by the large campfire that she’d inadvertently taken out of storage, she saw how much blood covered her, matting her hair and coating her body. “It’s no wonder I couldn’t tell my eyes were shut! Hardly a spot I’m not bloodied.” She glanced at the roaring fire. “Mingus, what in the world were you doing, storing that in here. I didn’t even realize you could store something like that in here.” A shiver ran down her spine as she wondered what other surprises the man might have left for her; most likely, he was unaware they were even in the ring.

A shimmer in the firelight caught her eye, Razhik’s scales catching the light. She saw him bent low over an unmoving body, a growing puddle of red spreading beneath it. Clear liquid fell from his eyes, washing away the blood and leaving splotchy marks on Orion’s skin. He must have noticed her sitting up and looking around, because he stopped what he was doing and frantically jerked his head.

“Get over here, quickly! Start checking his pockets, look for some kind of vial! He’s always got something on him. Quickly!” The rapid cadence of the creature’s speech betrayed his helplessness.

Despite the protests of her body, she pulled herself over to the pair and started rifling through the pockets of Orion’s cloak. He was nearly as much of a hoarder as Mingus, if the contents she found were any indication. She pulled out no less than seven separate flasks, each emitting a uniquely unpleasant odor, none of them something she felt tempted to sample. Nearly two dozen pockets later, she pulled out a vial of golden liquid.

“That’s it! Open it up, pour it in his mouth!”

Hands shaking, she did as Razhik commanded, struggling to keep the vial from spilling. Orion’s chest was barely moving when she poured the liquid in his mouth. She clamped his mouth shut, hoping the man would swallow. Seconds passed before light began to shine from his wounds, nowhere shining brighter than his right shoulder.

As his flesh knitted itself together, repairing even the splotchy spots caused by Razhik’s tears, the light revealed a long gash down Razhik’s side that oozed unpleasantly.

“Razhik, you’re hurt!”

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious. The big, ugly soft-skin got me when I took out his big ugly riding beast. I’ll be fine, though, and now he should too.” He let out a sigh, and Anilith realized he’d been holding his breath, waiting for his friend to recover.

“You really care about him, huh?”

“He saved me, too, once, foolish little prince that I was. Don’t ever tell him, but…”

A hacking cough interrupted the creature, and Orion groaned. Inaudible words escaped his lips as a rasp.

“Slow down, old man. Give it a minute.” Anilith moved to help him sit up, offering the water skin when she saw his wounds had sealed themselves. “Drink, that’s right. Now, what were you saying?”

“I said,” he took a long draw from the skin, “You used the gold one, didn’t you?”

She nodded, and he groaned again. “Agh! Well, no goin’ back. I’m almost surprised it worked…deal seemed too good to be true when I got it, saving someone from death’s door. Don’t know when I’ll be able to afford another of those, though. Shit.” There was no vitriol in his tone, only a reluctant acceptance.

His color was returning quickly. The light had faded, but still shone from within the man, imbuing his skin with a translucence. Whatever the vial’s contents were doing internally, they were clearly having a wonderful impact on his health.

Within a minute, Orion sat up. “Well, money’ll do you no good if you’re dead. Guess it’s a small blessing, anyway.” He looked around, bemused. “Where’d the campfire come from?”

Anilith scratched her head, a mannerism she’d acquired from the man. “Um, we have Mingus to thank for that one.”

Orion started rummaging through a few pockets. “Still ain’t catalogued your ring, eh? Well, maybe you’ll make it a priority now that you’ve seen how fast things can turn sour out here. All the treasure in the world won’t save you if you don’t know you have it. Here, take this.” He held out a small vial containing a clear liquid. “You look like shit.”

Taking the vial, Anilith was reminded of the first day she’d walked through Spokane. The vial looked familiar, but the potions the peddlers had been hawking were all colored. “Why’s that one clear? It doesn’t look like more than water.”

Orion waved the question away dramatically. “Bah, those potions are hardly quality work, an’ the color don’t even serve a real purpose. Really, it just makes it easier to see what they claim to be sellin’. I’d trust this here any day, even if I mighta needed somethin’ stronger. This would probably still have saved me, but I certainly wouldn’t be feelin’ so sprightly.”

Anilith popped the stopper and downed the clear liquid. It tasted like…strawberries? Whatever those were. There was a pleasant sweetness, followed by a balanced, tart tang. From the moment she swallowed, the aches that pained her began to fade. Her wounds closed before her eyes, although not nearly as fast as Orion’s. The process moved quickly, nonetheless. As her mind wandered, she found herself remembering the healers who had saved her after her less-than-pleasant encounter with the Aligo.

“Orion?” The Wanderer looked over at her. “Are there people here who can do…this?” She gestured to her whole body, indicating the healing process. “Back home,” she felt a pressure, one she felt any time she tried to talk about her life outside the Tower, just as she’d felt when she’d told Orion of her Blade Weaving, “Well, they did something like this, but it wasn’t nearly as effective.” The pressure vanished, the Tower clearly accepting the information she shared, if Orion’s nod was any indication.

“Sure, there are, but good luck affordin’ one. Unless you have a solid in, they cost near as much as the potion you used on me.” He finished the statement with a pained look on his face. “They’re a rare breed, them. Don’t often volunteer for this life, even if it makes them stronger than…people back home. Still, always dreamed of havin’ a friend like that in my corner. Right useful that would be, and that’s not even to mention the money we could make! There’s a reason those folks don’t leave the Hub much, though,” Orion sighed.

Orion’s eyes suddenly panned over to where Razhik lay, realizing his friend had been uncharacteristically quiet.

Razhik’s eyes were closed, and the ghost of a smile lingered on his lips. His chest rose and fell gently, but there was a labor to the motion. His side still oozed unpleasantly, but Orion didn’t look too worried. “Oh, Razh. Finally found somethin’ that could break through to you. When was the last time, eh? Gods, I can’t even remember, but I know you were much smaller then.” He fished around in his pocket and found a large jar containing a poultice that he liberally applied to his friend’s wound. “You’ll need a good molting when we’re through here, buddy. Sleep easy. We all need a little rest before we finish what we started.”

Anilith watched the man tenderly pat the creature. “He was crying for you, you know.”

A smile warmed Orion’s face like the dawning sun. “I’m sure it looked like that, and maybe he did, on some level. He’s a special creature, Razh. I know more about King’s in the Mire than most, mostly as few folks can get close enough to do any real learnin’ without riskin’ becomin’ lunch. You already know somethin’ about their ability to cure most toxins, learned that one firsthand, but a King’s tears are special. They’re made of a potent acid, a liquid that burns and melts, but we learned a long time ago that they can seal up wounds. Handy to keep from bleedin’ out in a pinch, even if it burns somethin’ fierce.” He paused, taking another long draw from the water skin before handing it back to the girl.

“That’s why he’s restin’ right now, too. His body secretes the stuff when he’s wounded, helpin’ to keep his insides inside. Makes his wounds ooze, as you see, and he’ll have to regrow his precious scales when the skin heals, but his kind have a remarkable resilience to them.”

Nodding along unconsciously, Anilith added, “Just imagine if he had a friend who could heal him up, too.”

The man clapped a hand to his mouth to stifle the laugh that burst forth. “Aye, that’d be right terrifyin’, and not a pair I’d want to run afoul of. Just another reason to add one to our roster!”

The adrenaline was finally deserting her, and Anilith couldn’t help but yawn. She pulled out a bedroll and used it to prop up her head on the cold stone as she lay back. Orion sat, vigilant as always. “Feel free to get a little rest, kid. We’re safe here. One of the mysteries of these places. Every dungeon has a safe room at the entrance. Generally, I wouldn’t advise rushin’ to it like we did, but I can’t say we had many choices. Kinda traps you in, though. No way out without a fight, and goin’ deeper ain’t without its risks, either. Still, when every option is shite…”

“Best pick the one that leaves the least up to chance. Who knows what’s out there, now that we kicked the bee’s nest.”

“Couldn’ta said it better myself,” Orion chuckled. “It’s more than that now, though. Was a time folks like us understood duty better. Now, most seem to have forgotten what brought us here. There’ve always been those aimin’ for personal power above all, but more an’ more I see folks foregoin’ responsibility for pleasure. Don’t get me wrong, for some it’s all as keeps them goin’, but others just lost their drive to help, it seems. I seen folks that would walk through the beasts we fought to get here, barely battin’ an eye, but they ain’t out here fixin’ anything. Don’t matter to someone like that if the whole world burns around them, long as they keep movin’ forward, findin’ the next challenge and forgettin’ the weakness they left behind.”

The Wanderer locked his hands around his knees and looked up at the ceiling. “No, kid, it’s on us to fix this, find some proof of how wrong things are. Make it so folks can’t keep livin’ with blinders until the world itself comes crashin’ down around us. Never forget, the Tower ain’t here to give you a peaceful life; it’s here to push you ‘til you break, or come out stronger than ever. But never forget where you came from, or you might lose sight of where you’re headed.”

Anilith palmed the stone armor fragment from Clod-stomper as she lay there. More than ever before, it made her feel safe, sealed within stone as they were. Her eyes fluttered. In that timeless space between sleep and consciousness, she dreamed she could feel a slow, beating rhythm from the earth. It reminded her less of a heartbeat than a steady tempo, keeping time as it marched relentlessly forward.

Even as she was aware that Orion kept talking, her focus slipped, and his words became the background noise that lulled her into sleep, that constant tempo, soothing. Her last thoughts were of the warmth of the fire, the joy she felt knowing her friends were okay, and the pain she lived with being apart from her family. She’d thought the pain would dull, but she lived every day wondering about theirs.

The connections she’d found helped, but nothing could take away the tug of the attachments she’d come into this place with, nor the ache that lingered in their absence.

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Flickering torchlight lit the stone block hallway before them. The space was wide enough to swing a sword, but restrictive for something of Razhik’s size. He trailed behind, gladly taking up the rear to keep from tripping up the other two after a disastrous first encounter.

By now, they’d been wandering for a few hours after leaving the safe room. Fights were smaller than on the way to the Dungeon, only two or three enemies at a time, and the group dispatched them relatively quickly and soundlessly. Initially, Anilith hadn’t liked the idea of Orion firing arrows from behind her, but she’d learned a grudging respect for the man’s skill with a bow, even if hearing him draw the string back still made her uneasy. It helped that she could feel the incoming arrows’ movement with her Blade Weaving, not that she’d have much chance to dodge if his aim was more than a little off.

They’d been forced to split up and explore forks in the path a few times, but by now, Razhik had accepted his role of standing guard at the split while the other two took a look.

Orion took point for the most part, leaning on his awareness and experience to search for traps.

“Kinda underwhelming after how difficult getting in here was. You haven’t even seen any traps yet, not that I don’t appreciate your efforts.”

“That just means we ain’t found anythin’ worth lookin’ for yet, but it’s only a matter of time. You’re right, though, seems odd that the guards outside were so much stronger.”

“Seems like they were really just trying to keep people out, or maybe they just never expected anyone to go in after so long. You said people stopped coming in here, yeah?”

“Maybe, but something doesn’t sit quite right with that.”

“Maybe the Warlord that brute mentioned is just so strong, they don’t see the point in having many guards?”

“Warlord?” Orion asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

“Yeah, the monster that nearly took you out mentioned him in between various ways of eating us alive?”

“You understood those nightmarish sounds it made?”

Anilith felt sure he was pulling her leg. “…you didn’t?”

“No, kid, I didn’t catch what the growls, grunts, and throat noises meant. I’m not sure anyone would.” He put his head in his hands, shaking it slowly before looking up at her. “Well, I guess I can’t say anyone.”

“I figured it was just something from the Primer Pashikh gave me.” Anilith shrugged. “He said everyone gets one to smooth the transition, so many cultures here and whatnot.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, they do. Most of ours don’t translate monster, though. Gonna have to ask the merchant where he got that, if we make it out of here. Probably tell us he got it from the Tower and didn’t know it would do that, though.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “Unless you’re the problem. You do something funny, kid?”

“Like what?” Anilith bristled at the accusation. “The only funny thing I did back then was totally ignore his warnings and nearly walk into a deathtrap,” she replied flatly.

“Kid, one of these days, one of your surprises is gonna kill me.” He shook his head. “What was that about a Warlord?”

“I mean, I don’t know much more than you do, just that the thing said he was gonna deliver our skulls to some Warlord. I figure that’s the guy in charge here, and we’re in the Dungeon…so why wouldn’t he be here?”

Orion stood in the middle of the hallway, blinking. “I guess I can’t refute your logic there, but shit, kid. Not sure how I feel about going up against some Warlord. The normal Rares are bad enough.”

“Yeah, but we’ve got each other, right? That counts for something?”

“Yeah, and we can die holding hands, fightin’ evil with the power of friendship. Gods, we’re gonna have to clear this place out and make sure nothin’ can sneak up on us. Let’s clear this hallway and get back to Razh. Hopefully we can find somethin’ worthwhile before we find the big boss.”

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“Hold on, something’s not right here.”

Orion held his hand out as he crouched and inspected the blocks that made up the floor before them. A half dozen yards away, a closed door taunted them at the end of this hallway. The blocks he was inspecting didn’t seem any different to Anilith’s eyes, but she was past the days of doubting the man’s perception. Even with the unique way she saw the world, she couldn’t match his ability to connect dots she hadn’t even registered.

He lightly touched one of the blocks he was examining with one finger, and it moved, ever so slightly. He repeated the process, examining every block he could, finding a few dozen that weren’t as steady as they should have been. Orion pulled out a small white stick and began using it to mark the unmoving stones, revealing what appeared to be a path through the hallway.

“You can never underestimate the value of a good piece of chalk,” he said, continuing to mark up the floor. The marks looked like stepping stones to cross a river, and as he moved across each one, he carefully tested more blocks. Soon, he came across another stable section of floor and marked it with a line.

“Should be safe to follow,” he called back, “just make sure to step only where I marked. Somethin’ tells me we don’t want to know what happens if we put too much pressure on those. I’ll make sure this side is safe while you cross.”

Moving carefully down the hallway, Anilith asked, “What do you think is behind the door?”

“With any luck, somethin’ that’ll make this hallway more worth our time than any of the others have been.”

“Hey, the others haven’t been so bad! How fast did we take out that last patrol? Can’t have been more than a handful of seconds. If that’s not improvement, I don’t know what is.”

Not looking up from his task, he quipped, “I think you mean how fast did I take out the last patrol. Dropped them before you even had a chance to draw blood.”

“Alright, yeah, but I woulda taken my guy out in another half second, so I’m still calling it a win,” Anilith declared as she joined him on the other side. “Think we can just open the door? It would only figure if it was another dead end behind it. We’re running out of paths.”

“I’m not pickin’ up anythin’ strange, but I’ll open it slowly, just to be safe.”

The door creaked open, its hinges announcing their lack of maintenance with every iota of movement. When they could finally see into the, thankfully, empty room, the only thing lying in wait was a large stone chest. They walked in slowly, Orion leading the way, and he examined the room slowly before moving towards the chest.

“No tripwires, no loose stones, no apparent booby traps of any kind,” he muttered to himself. “What do you think, kid, should we risk it? Seems strange to leave it undefended like this, but then again, nothing about this Dungeon has felt normal.”

“Go for it, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Orion groaned, sounding nearly as distraught as when she’d given him his emergency potion. “You did not just say that. Gods strike you down, if anything happens to us now, that’s on your head.”

He kicked the lid of the chest, dropping to the ground and covering his head as it hit the stone floor. Opening one eye with a squint, he peeked out from under his arms and made to stand up. “Well, no horrible death yet.” He peered over the rim of the open chest, a golden light reflecting on his face. “Now that’s more like it. Finally, some good old-fashioned loot. Let’s take it and get out of here before the gods decide to make good on your taunt.”

Anilith moved up to join him, preparing to store as much as she could. In the chest were mounds of coins, worth a small fortune on their own, and a collection of unremarkable weapons, ranging from a dagger to a pair of balanced war hammers, to a massive battle axe that would have taken two hands just to lift. “Weird somebody put these things together in here, but can’t ever have enough backup weapons,” she said as she quickly stored the chest’s contents. “I guess we'd better get back to it, though.”

The pair left the room and carefully crossed the treacherous path, heading back down the hallway to where they’d left Razhik. When they reached him, he was sprawled across the intersection looking nothing more than bored.

“Finally, I thought you guys would never get back. Let’s get going. The sooner we get out of here, the better. I’m getting claustrophobic in these tunnels, I need some fresh air, and soon!”

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“Well, that sure is a big door,” Orion said from the far side of the antechamber.

They’d explored every branching hallway on their way here, killed every monster that walked these halls, only to reach one more dead end. Granted, this one had a door three times the size any door needed to be, and it could only hide the leader of the Dungeon’s forces, but it was still a dead end.

Around the door, a dozen torches lit the antechamber, casting warming light and shadows in equal measure as the firelight flickered. Unlike anywhere else in the dungeon, a rug covered much of the floor of the chamber. It was tattered in places and had certainly seen better days, but it hinted at a majesty long forgotten by this cold, lifeless place. It lay thick upon the ground, a deep, rich green reminiscent of the Forest canopy.

“Are we ready for this? It’s gotta be that Warlord waiting for us in there, right?”

“Only one way to find out. Should we do this in style?”

“I’ll get one if you get the other.”

The two each moved to one of the doors. As they each prepared to shoulder open the doors, Razhik stood behind them, shaking his oversized head.

“You two look like idiots, you know. Alas, a King needs his servants to open the way for him.”

They both shot back a glare before looking each other in the eye and nodding. These doors, evidently, were maintained much better than the last. Swinging open with a whisper, the doors moved deceptively easily for their size, nearly pulling Orion and Anilith along for the ride. The growing gap between them revealed a wide room, easily large enough to accommodate Razhik. The verdant rug continued inwards, leading up a small flight of stone steps to a large table.

Chairs surrounded the table, most in better condition than anything they had seen in the Dungeon. Some were splintered, having suffered the wrath of an unknown slight some time ago, while others almost looked newly constructed, upholstery unmarred and vibrant. At the head of the table, in a chair larger than the rest, sat a single figure. It sat rigid and upright, wearing armor that looked all too familiar to Anilith, if less bulky than she remembered.

“Rock-stomper? You’re the Warlord? I’d have sworn that tree did you in. Orion, are there a lot of goblins like this?”

“I’m sure the one you fought isn’t the only one, but no, they aren’t that common. Can’t say I’ve seen more than a couple in all my time here.”

Anilith summoned her trophy, glancing between it and the creature sitting at the head of the great hall. Orion’s eyes widened as he mimicked her, seeing something she couldn’t.

“I don’t know how, but those things are definitely connected.”

Rock-stomper’s eyes, mere glimmers behind his stone sallet, locked onto the object in her hand. A growl came from the creature.

“You.” The creature’s voice was cold and direct. “Do you have any idea the embarrassment you caused me? I used to be feared, then you came along, and I had to volunteer for this position just to escape the jeers. Tree-hugger, they called me!”

Anilith looked over to Orion as the beast spoke. “Don’t look at me, kid. Still sounds like gobbledygook to me; you’re on your own here.”

Razhik nodded along, adding his two cents. “Whatever he’s saying, though, he’s definitely not a fan of yours.”

“Oh, shut it, Razhik.” She turned back to address the apparent Warlord. “That’s not so bad, really. You’re looking pretty good for a pancake, after all.”

The creature pushed its chair back as it stood, tipping the massive thing over in the process. It moved faster than she remembered, the new design of its armor clearly more than just aesthetic. Anilith’s shard of armor seemed to vibrate in her hand, appearing to resonate with the creature’s new armor.

“You’re gonna suffer for what you’ve done, don’t waste your breath.” It jumped on the table and started walking towards them. “Must be my lucky day, you just strolling right in here. The guards outside are gonna get an earful, though. You aren’t supposed to be here; nobody’s supposed to be here.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. Apparently, I’m not very good at following directions.” The stone continued to thrum in her hand, trying to show her…something. She couldn’t place what she should be seeing, but every plodding step Rock-stomper took in her direction brought a wave of sensation, like vibrations in the stone.

The earth-clad beast reached the end of the long table and jumped down, his mass striking the floor and causing tremors to shake the room briefly, dust falling from the ceiling.

Orion stared at her incredulously. “Kid, the things you do make no sense, and I’ve been friends with Razh here a long time.”

As she looked at Rock-stomper with her eyes, she felt the room, felt the beast’s armor with something more. Once again, she felt the steady rhythm of the earth, so constant in the Dungeon walls. The stone armor was anomalous; however, some areas not feeling right: not feeling…whole. The strange sense she’d felt while reflecting on the stone helped her notice several places where the armor felt…wrong, as if its rhythm was off, the steady beat weakened.

“You have no idea, old man. I hope you’re around to see when weird shit stops happening, but I have a feeling it’ll be a while.” She sheathed her blades, letting them hang at her hips, as she summoned the pair of hammers she’d liberated from the chest, her ring providing them at a thought. She really didn’t want to chip her blades if she could avoid it, and something about this felt right. “I think I’ve got this. Sit back with Razhik while I test something out.”

As Tree-hugger reached the bottommost stair, she started moving towards him, gaining speed with every step. The creature matched her, holding a familiar battle-axe in one hand as it rushed her.

They closed with each other rapidly, and predicting the beast’s actions felt almost too easy, as her senses simultaneously told her where to dodge and where to strike for maximum damage. With every fall of her hammers, Rock-stomper’s armor cracked and splintered until it started falling apart under the assault.

When she started seeing gray skin through the failing armor, she dismissed a hammer, drawing one of her blades even as she continued demolishing Rock-stomper’s armor. Her blade quickly found purchase in the left side of its chest, pushing through until the tip reached the still-intact armor covering the creature’s back. Pushing with her blade, she hooked the hammer behind one of its legs and pulled, knocking the beast prone.

As she prepared to put the beast out of its misery, it spoke to her, even as blood leaked from its maw. “One day, I’ll get my revenge on this prison. One day, I’ll kill you and earn the secrets that wait beyond. This…isn’t…over…”

Anilith had trouble accepting how easy that went as she stared at the dead…Warlord?

“Well, that was anticlimactic. What now?”

Orion just stared at her as an opening near the base of the stairs slid open, revealing a hidden staircase descending into the darkness.

“Ooo, secret tunnel! Doesn’t look like I’ll fit, though,” Razhik said dejectedly. “Go in, you guys! Let me know if there’s enough space for me at the bottom!”

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