Hans stopped. Margaret stopped. And, well, Mary was standing still first.

“So…,” Mary swallowed audibly, “maybe we’d go back to that intersection and reconsider? You know, it may be worth it to stop and think about some other options….”

“Nah,” Hans said, despite the slight quiver in his voice. “That just means we picked the right way. Really, who would want to go the monsterless corridor?” He did take his sword out. The flickering fire caused a cavalcade of reflex to dance across the blade, underlining the multitude of its curves and spikes. Parts of it resembled a saw more than a sword - and was Mary seeing things, or was there a tube leading from the hilt to top…? The rest of his armament stayed sheathed.

Margaret nodded and relaxed her hands in front of her in a regular position for casting - she probably wanted to be ready to save Hans if the trouble was indeed coming. Which, at that point, probably none of them doubted.

“Let’s go,” the more experienced girl said.

They went barely a few dozen yards before they arrived at another intersection. One of the aisles led almost the same direction they were already going. The other joined with theirs in a very sharp angle, and once she got a good look at it, Mary noticed that it was a perfect reflection of it, down to the tiniest defects in the stone bookcases.

“Is it…?” Mary asked.

“It may as well be,” Hans shrugged. “So it didn’t really matter which way we picked - told you so.

“But-”

“Stuff like this happens all the time, honey. Just get used to it.”

Others barely slowed down while Mary inspected the architectural anomaly, and she had to strain herself to catch up. She was still trying to keep her eyes to the back at least as much as to the front - the girl had no delusions about her chances of survival if something - or someone - came at her from behind. She didn’t have many even from the front either if said danger would be at a higher weight category than a tome of nursery rhymes, but… Well, let’s say she still prefered to face the danger with her face rather than her backside.

The longer they walked, the more creeped out she was. Soon, a distant clicking sound started nagging at her consciousness. It sounded like the keys in the old keyboard of their computer in the orphanage - but if every kid had their own copy, and was desperately trying to see if randomly typing quickly enough would indeed produce a perfect copy of Lord of the Rings. It was nowhere near as terrifying as the previous scream, though, so she had that going for her.

After long minutes, which she could have sworn were hours if she hadn’t actually checked her watch, she saw a light at the end of the aisle. The party slowed downed, and tried to make little noise - so her friends didn’t, in fact, try to kill themselves that much, which was nice. The typing was so loud by now that they needn’t have bothered - probably. And then...

Horses. An entire army of black, poodle-sized horses pranced around the hall, clicking their tiny hoves maddeningly on the hard floor. The walls were covered in bookcases - it was a library, no matter how weird - but at the middle of the chamber, there was a heap of broken furniture. Atop it laid an enormous bird - it was easily taller than Hans, and its orange beak contrasted starkly with its white feathers.

“Duck!” Hans exclaimed, surprised, in what he probably meant to be a quiet voice. That earned him a smack on the head from Margaret, but the deed was done - the bird’s head snapped in their direction. The horrible sound from before filled the air again - it was a quacking, only unnaturally deep and loud.

The prancy clicking suddenly halted, and Mary felt hundreds of eyes trailing on her as the little ponies froze mid-prance. Cursing softly, she raised both her hands into casting position.

Showtime was coming.

Hans went straight for what seemed to be the boss - because, of course, he did. That may have been a good thing as well, since Mary couldn’t imagine herself doing the dodges he pulled of while avoiding the monster’s beak - the jagged edges looked quite scary. Mary sent one fireball in its direction, but the bird somehow swatted it away with a wing, directing it towards Margaret, who barely dodged in time. The girl spent a few precious seconds glaring at her, but come on, how could Mary have known it would do that?

Anyway… When you think of a relatively small mammal, most people’s thoughts immediately go towards finding a way to pet it. For Mary, it didn’t last even a minute. The mini-horses could run impossibly fast. And boy, could they jump. The first little shit made a backflip in mid-air, kicking her straight at her ribs.

That entirely cured Mary of any sympathy for the pest. Fortunately, though, the ponies burned just right - at least as long as she landed a hit on one… Mary’s aiming still left something to be desired, and the cursed ponies were fast.

Fortunately, the Mixered Martial Arts training helped her at the very least avoid any hits to her head - by throwing herself to the floor a lot, for which her back was very grateful and wouldn’t let her forget about it for weeks. Mossie accidentally helped as well - when trying to cover behind her, it collided with one of the creatures that was just going to crush her skull from behind.

When all the demon-spawned horses were resting still in various states of overcooking, most of Mary’s bones already signed a petition for transfer to someone who would take better care for them, and the stench of charred fleshed was almost overwhelming Mary’s nostrils, the duck was still fighting their carry. Apparently, it couldn’t get a solid hit on Han, who in turn could neither cut nor pierce into the feathery beast deep enough.

Margaret threw something shiny in Mary’s direction - who tried to catch it, but the light burst on contact with her skin, spraying her with a shining glitter. The particles sought out her cuts and bruises - either that, or landed anywhere but her head, Mary couldn’t really tell - and wherever they landed, she felt the pain retreated. She breathed out and sent her healer a grateful smile. The girl didn’t seem to notice - she was glaring intently at the still progressing (or, well, more like halting) battle.

Suddenly, she brought her hands to her mouth and yelled, “Try burning skewer!”

Mary didn’t understand what she meant, and probably neither did the duck - it probably thought it was a challenge to a shouting match since it repeated the scream from before in Margaret’s direction.

Hans made use of the distraction and apparently understood what his teammate meant - he thrust the sword into the monster’s feathery belly, and when it stopped in the fluff, he cast a fireball at the hilt of his sword.

Mary yelped, but the spell didn’t explode at him - it went inside the metal, and the fire poured from the blade - which was partially plunged into the enemy. The bird screeched and started to thrash around, but it was too late - Hans kept the sword in place, and it only took a few seconds to get the job done.

The silence stretched for a few seconds, as everyone was still taking in what they’ve done. Well, relative silence - a few bookcases caught fire, and the crackling didn’t have any soothing properties inside a library. Oh, and Mary’s breath was training for the loudest human-generated sound Guinness record - the quick healing she received did nothing to fix the exhaustion, quite the opposite.

Then, multiple things happened almost at once - Hans collapsed, splashing blood on the ground, Margaret rushed toward him, casting more healing spells on the run, and a two-feet-tall rat dressed in a pink dress crawled from under the duck’s ‘nest’.

“Finally!” the vermin said, not paying attention to the medical emergency in progress. “How long can you keep a damsel in distress waiting?”