Chapter Forty—A Forewarning

In a line of three broad, the adventurers stalked forward across the artistically-tiled stone walkway. Many of the tiles were cracked, some had been removed altogether.

This dungeon was surely ancient.

As they neared the doors into the dungeon proper, mermaid statues with the heads of fish that held onto oil lamps lighted with a sudden poof.

“Gah!” Ali yelled.

Shiro looked at him, and he shrugged, seeming abashed. “What? There are bodies on the floor. You have to be ready for anything!”

Nodding, Shiro unsheathed his Urutai scimitar—this newly acquired sword that he quite liked. He would have to buy a new one before leaving.

“Why do they have to have fish heads?” Ali asked as he gestured at the statues with his scimitar. Why can they not be beautiful women with their breasts free like outside, hmm?”

“Perhaps…” Debaku said musingly, “those carvings outside are meant to lure would-be victims into the dungeon, Ali.”

“Oh,” he said. “Shiro, do you think so?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “but let us move forward instead of hesitating.”

“I agree,” Debaku said.

They stalked forward sixty or seventy more paces, the torches of the fish men and fish women statues lighting successively as they moved forward.

“Blood,” Debaku said.

Ali jerked his head around. “What?” he asked with an air of annoyance. “How do you know these things?”

Without saying a word, Debaku simply looked at him, and Ali nodded with a stupid sounding acknowledgement. He must have realized that Debaku had abilities he didn’t possess upon being reminded of his pale-grey snake eyes.

They walked forward several more steps, and the maroon puddle revealed itself, thick and viscous. “That is a lot of blood,” Shiro said and a shiver went through him. “It was pooled here.”

“A monster died here,” Ali said.

“No,” Debaku corrected. “This is not a monster’s blood. This belongs to a man.”

Shiro realized he was sweating. “It is hot,” he said.

“Shiro,” Ali said.

“Yes?”

“I do not like this.”

“Neither do I,” Debaku added.

“Well that makes it even worse!” Ali hissed.

“We are not turning around,” Shiro said. “Razul may need our help.”

“Or he may be dead, Shiro!”

“We must find out,” Debaku said.

“We are adventurers,” Shiro added. “This is what we do. Now it is time to investigate. We must know what is happening—if Razul is still here.”

“All right,” Ali said with a nod and started stepping around the pool of congealed blood.

Shiro followed.

The doors up ahead were cracked opened, just enough to let a man with a large pack on his back through.

Ali stepped through first.

There was a pause, and then…

“Shiro!”

Stepping quicker, Shiro turned his body sideways and stepped through until he was standing next to Ali. They were atop a landing with more steps leading down. But there, with them, were more corpses. Three men, and some blood that was clearly not human. It was a murky grey-blue.

“Yes,” Debaku said from behind. “As I suspected.”

“What happened here?” Ali asked.

“I don’t know, but how many men do you think Razul has taken down here?”

Ali turned, glanced at Shiro. There was worry in his eyes as he shrugged. “Perhaps he brought a small expedition?”

“That may explain why there are so many corpses,” Debaku said. “These men may not be high quality adventurers.”

“And so we are supposed to think that Razul just left them where they fell?” Shiro asked. “Ali, what do you think?”

The men, they did look like they were left where they fell, undisturbed, their weapons not gathered. Many of the corpses still grasped the hilts of swords or spears.

“Umm,” Ali said, sounding distracted. “Well… he might?”

Shiro narrowed his eyes. “What kind of man is this Razul?”

“Eh… he is an adventurer, Shiro. A greedy godless pig. Wait, no—he’s not godless.”

“A murderer?”

“No.”

“A thief?’

“Oh,” Ali said with a chuckle, “he is definitely a thief!”

Debaku stepped forward and held out his glow stone to expand their area of visibility. The torches here in the fish statue’s arms did not light. Perhaps something went wrong with the mechanisms—or the magic had dried up.

“He sounds like a very crude man,” Debaku said.

“Maybe we should not judge him,” Shiro said.

“Why not?” Debaku asked.

“Did we not leave dozens of dead soldiers on the road when you broke me out of that prison cage?”

“This…” Debaku said. “You make a good point, Shiro.”

Being more disposed to honor, Shiro wanted to make judgments, but the practical adventurer in him rejected those notions. If an expedition had to halt for every man that fell, nothing could ever be accomplished.

And it was the same in war. When one’s allies fell in a battle line, his friends must step over and atop him to advance on the enemy, or be routed—making his death pointlkess.

Glancing about the corpses, Shiro realized one of the men—all of them looked to be native Urutai—was lying atop a sword. The shine of the steel revealed that the weapon was either cared for very well, or that it was newly forged.

Shiro moved the corpse over.

“What are you doing?” Ali asked.

Shiro picked up the Urutai scimitar and hefted it in his hand. “I am trading up,” he said, setting down his clearly older blade.

“And you sir are also very crude, my infidel friend.”

Shiro turned and made a sarcastic show of praying for the dead man by asking the kami to guide his spirit wherever it belonged.

Ali rolled his eyes.

As the water below them splashed, Shiro whirled, raising his sword for a possible attack.

“What was that?” Ali gasped, also raising his blade.

Debaku stepped forward, shining his light about down the steps, his scimitar in his left hand at the ready.

“Something moved,” Shiro said. “I do not think that we are alone.”

“I think you are right, Shiro,” Ali said.

Then a noise reverberated from beyond the chamber, a sound that echoed through the halls and chambers, one that made the water vibrate.

“What the hells was that?” Ali asked.

“I don’t know, but if there are noises like that!”—Shiro growled—“then there are either men down here moving things, or there are monsters!”

He started making his way down the steps.

Then another loud sound thundered through the dungeon halls. An explosion, followed by a battle cry.

“Someone is fighting!” Ali said.

Shiro jerked his head toward their intended destination. “Come on!” He raced down the steps.