The âAbyssal Hunterâsâ room was somehow built like a spinning gear, or the worldâs worst fair ride. The walls and the attached chains turned around the central platform, the dangling metal links sweeping towards the players.
If they didnât move, or at least get under or over the chains, theyâd be pushed and dragged into the gaps in the floor, and down into the lava below.
But there was some kind of magic crackling around those chains. Mason had a bad feeling about trying to get âunderâ them in particular, an unpleasant light following each. Getting
over
might work, but it would take quite a jump.
If they abandoned that idea entirely and followed the âspinâ, it meant theyâd have to start jumping between bridges, some of which were several feet apart. The physical players could handle it, but the castersâŠ
The passage had sealed behind them, the opening completely closed off by stone. The âspinningâ was slow, so they had a bit of time before they had to move. Mason could see rising panic on several faces. He didnât blame them, because he saw only one other possibilityâŠ
âAnyone who thinks they canât get over the chains, or jump between bridges, has to stand and turn on the platform with the demon,â he said. âMove, unless someone has a better idea in the next three seconds.â
The demon was turning with the chains, like the worldâs fattest, most disgusting dancer. His thick, ooze-dripping arms waved like a conductor, a bloody smile turned up his wet lips.
âIâll just float up.â Seamus held up his staff and started hovering. It seemed as good an ideas as any.
Alex silently started picking his way down the ramp. Demi looked at Mason with wide eyes, then followed. Tommaso jumped a chain as a test, but seemed like he had no problem.
âShould we just run down there and attack it, Patron?â Phuong started moving as Mason shrugged. Somehow he sincerely doubted it would be that simple. But they had to find out.
âTry.â
He summoned his bow and loosed a test arrow straight at the demonâs head. The missile flew right on target, but bounced off a red shield that crackled around the demonâs body. Because of course it did.
âProtect yourselves first,â he shouted. âBut if you see anything, figure out anything, call it.â
He decided the most likely thing would be the jail cells. Thereâd be something inside they had to deal withâwhether puzzles or creatures somehow fueling the magic chains. With his speed and agility he needed to make it a priority.
But he seriously doubted the demon would just stand there when the others reached the platform. He didnât know what it would do, but he expected not to like the answer.
Whatever it was, the others were going to have to deal with it for a little while.
âBe ready for a fight on that platform,â he yelled, activating Aspect of the Cheetah as he hopped a chain and ran for the closest bridge, Streak right on his heels. âIâm going up to the cells. Keep them safe, Phuong!â
âSafe?â The demon called, laughing again. â
Safe
he says, children!â
Mason jumped and landed squarely on a narrow bridge, then scrambled up towards the first cell. He reached the bars, half expecting whatever was inside to come smashing out. But nothing happened, and he saw no way to open them except pull and rely on ridiculous strength.
âOh heâs coming to see you!â The demon said excitedly. âWait until he sees my handiwork. Oh whatâs this? Come to join me?â
Mason glanced back to see his players taking up places around the platform. The melee jumped over chains and spread out, but Alex and Demi were stuck on a narrow slice of the platform together.
Phuong and the others tried a few test swings, each hitting the same red shield without any obvious effect. But they wisely kept attacking, because at least maybe they were weakening the thing.
Another chain formed over the demonâs head, twisting and coiling like a snake as it formed around one of his hands. No, not
like
a snake. The âchainâ shimmered and took the body of an actual animal, growing out and splitting with three heads.
They hissed and stared at Mason, but the demon made a tsking sound.
âNot yet, my lovelies. His friends first. Better, much better.â
The snakes dove and struck in three directionsâone bouncing off a swipe from Phuong, another snapping down on the middle of Jasonâs offered polearm. The third deflected off Alexâs shield.
Mason turned away and growled as he ripped open the cell, getting in just before a chain swept by. As predicted, he found more of the demonic runes all over the floor and walls. In the center stood aâŠzombie child. Or something.
It was the size of a small human. Or, with some horrorâa goblin child. It wore what looked like police riot gear, a SWAT shield dangling off one arm. As soon as he entered it pulled off its helmet with a clumsy jerk, and Mason stared. A bludgeoned human head was stitched on the body of a goblin. And it was a head Mason remembered.
âHe killed him, my lovelies.â The demon laughed. âBashed his face in with a rock. Put an arrow through his heart. He remembers, doesnât he?â
Yes. Mason remembered. The dead man had been part of a group of four players he and Haley met just outside the tutorial. Theyâd squabbled over a kill, then Haley cooked for them to try and calm the situation as they talked. Their leader, some kind of tank type, had been itching for a fight. Heâd said lewd and offensive things. Heâd made threats.
Mason had known what he was, and what he wanted. Heâd been just waiting for a chance to strike. He didnât give him the chance.
He hit him with a rock, just as the demon said, and finished him off.
It was him or us
, Mason told himself.
He stared into the bruised, dead eyes of the long dead man, the rotting bits and pieces. Was there a chance heâd been wrong? Had the guy just been a dick with no real plan?
It was possible. But so what? You couldnât know for sure. You didnât always get to make clean decision when it was life or death. You usually didnât. Hesitation could get you slaughtered, and had in that manâs case.
Mason wasnât going to risk his life, Haleyâs life, because he lacked the will to kill. You didnât threaten a dangerous man and the things he loved and not risk paying a price. Mason refused to take all the blame.
âGo on,â the demon called over the sound of battle. âWhatâs he waiting for, hmm?â
Mason looked around the room but understood nothing. For the millionth time he cursed Blake in his mind, wondering what his brother could be doing to help, not just here but out there. Mason couldnât read the runes, couldnât identify anything he was seeing.
All he could do was sense the wrongness, smell the unnatural life and magic all around him. He was a damn blunt-force tool, made to smash worse things them him right in their faces, and let someone else sort out the morality. The details.
âYou want me to feel guilty?â he yelled, gripping the handle of his Claw, snorting in contempt.
He killed to protect people weaker than him. People who didnât have the strength or will to do what was required. Heâd have killed a hundred Sebastians or Shield-guys to save
one
Haley. He couldnât give a shit for moral mathematics.
And some foreign alien god wanted to what? Judge him for it? Was
that
the point of this?
No. To hell with him, or
it,
or
they
.
People he saved could judge him one day. If it made them feel better he could take their judgment, too. Theyâd have the privilege because theyâd be alive, alive because of men like him.
You couldnât be angry at soft creatures because they were soft. It was why he loved them. Why heâd learned he needed them just like they needed him. But he wouldnât be judged by other hard things. Not when he knew how the sausage was made.
He slashed and cut the âzombieâ creature in two, watching the dead manâs eyes roll for the second time. Then he turned and ran to the bridge, waiting for a chain to pass before leaping to the next bridge in a single, precise jump.
âHold on,â he shouted, really hoping he was doing the right thing.
It was impossible to tell from the demonâs reaction. The moment heâd cut down his target it started laughing like a maniac. Its âsnake-flailâ rose and dove, jaws snapping at his players as the demon turned. They struck at its shield, moving on the platform and following in the ridiculous spin.
Seamus was still floating above, loosing flaming missiles and looking content. Demi was huddled behind Alex, the stoic Belarusian following the platform with determined eyes. Becky, Phuong, Annie and the spearmen all swung their weapons and kept their feet. Streak had jumped to a different bridge and Shapeshifted, apparently no idea what to do.
Mason could relate. But until he came up with a better plan, he intended to go between bridges and slaughter everything in the prison cells. Maybe then that shield would go down, and they could silence that fucking demon for good.