Chương 18: Sneaking with Snakes

Malachi stayed absolutely still as the heavy footfalls came closer.

"RAWWK!" came the sound again. A large beast lumbered into the clearing. [Griffin] - Half bird, half lion, all fun. A common but powerful magical beast. Wild ones will fuck you up with their beak and claws. Domesticated ones can fly you around and fuck up your enemies. Weee! They make a distinct call that sounds like YESI'MSTILLHERE. Malachi filed the weird shit with SERA to deal with later. Right now, he was staring through the brush at the ass of a creature the size of a rhino.

On top of it on a saddle, partially veiled by the folded wings, was a man who was looking around. He was wearing a stylized leather cuirass and an odd looking robe that was bright with colors. It was the griffin that took most of his attention, though. Malachi had watched footage of a wild griffin that had made it through a green portal. The thing's claws had torn off a man's steel breastplate. His torso hadn't stood a chance.

Then it had pinned another soldier and used its beak to peck out her face—through a helmet. It was another one of those things he wished he could unsee. When they were kids, he and Malia had been playing hide-and-seek. He'd hid in a closet. She'd opened the door, and he was sure she'd seen him. But he'd stayed totally still, and she'd moved on. He didn't have any fancy camouflage skills, but hiding was his best chance. He wasn't delusional enough to think he could take both of them. He'd follow Arisone's lead.

"Yeah, she smells something. You see anything, Derius?" One of the ants bit Malachi right next to the clavicle. It felt like a fire ant. He clenched his teeth and stayed still, trying to keep his breathing silent.

"Told you I wouldn't waste a node on tracking spells," growled a deeper voice. Another man came into the clearing. Malachi guessed he was a mage because he was floating six feet off the ground and was carrying a staff with a glowing crystal. He was also wearing a cuirass, but this was some sort of glimmering, pale metal. His robe was black and white, with gold trim. The mage's skin was remarkably pale.

"With your eyes, idiot." Another ant bit Malachi, then another. He clenched his teeth and stayed still, keeping his breathing steady. If he made any noise, they would turn and see him.

"Depressions in the mud here. One of those muck asps passed through here. Might be recent." The mage shrugged.

"Might not."

"You're useless," the griffin rider grumbled.

"And you're too cheap to hire a proper team, Gerasix." The ant bites stung like a motherfucker, and they just kept coming. Every damn ant on the tree seemed to want to get their turn. Worse, the ants were starting to make their way up his neck. The griffin rider snorted, and his beast echoed him.

"The job's to secure the dungeon. That's done. This would just be a bonus. And Lesae is tired of eating rats. Aren't you, girl?"

"RAWWWK!" The griffin spun, swinging her head around as the rider clutched a handhold on the saddle with one hand. In his other hand, he had a crossbow that glimmered with sigils. His friend was still hovering off the ground, looking at the south part of the clearing. The griffin might have been more intimidating physically, but if the portal reports had made anything clear, it was that wizards that knew how to fly were scary sons of bitches. He was probably even stronger than his companion.

One of the ants chomped down on his neck. Malachi squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth harder. One of the ants was crawling up his face by his cheek. He opened his eyes again. He had to know if they'd seen him. Not going to scream. Not going to scream, he thought. The mage spun in the air, his eyes passing right over Malachi's hiding spot. Malachi's heart skipped.

"Well, if there's markings here, they must have gone that way. We'll fly south," the mage, Derius said.

"Fine. We better find something. My trophy wall is missing a few heads," Gerasix said.

"Fly!" he said, and the griffin screeched again and beat its massive wings. The bursts of air caused all the ants on Malachi to freeze. One of them was on his cheek, an inch away from his left eyeball. The mage looked around again. This time he looked at where Arisone was hiding. He hesitated. The ant on Malachi's cheek took another step forward. He could actually see the pincers waving. The mage said something unintelligible, then flew off, flying straight up and away.

Lightning fast, Malachi reached up and snatched the ant off his cheek and crushed the little bastard between his fingers. He waited a moment to make sure the pair wouldn't return, then scrambled out of the bush and started brushing the ants off as fast as he could. The problem was they were under his damn shirt. He tore it off.

"Hold still," Arisone said, her scales shimmering as they changed color.

"Fuck! These little fuckers… is there a spell that gets rid of them?"

"In a sense," she said. Her wand glowed, and wisps of dark red light shimmered through the air, touching Malachi's skin. Another ant bit him, but then immediately stiffened, then fell to the ground. Each time one bit him, it fell off, apparently dead.

"What was that?"

"A retaliation curse. It only does a small amount of damage, but it doesn't take much to kill an ant." Malachi felt like shit. There were probably a hundred little red welts all over his skin. The regeneration seemed to be having issues with whatever nasty venom the ants had injected. It just fucking hurt. He took in a sharp breath. He could deal with pain.

"Thanks. Who were those people?"

"Hadaun hunters. They are securing a perimeter around the dungeon. There will be another force guarding the entrance in a fortified encampment. And that means we must hurry, because their initiates have likely started clearing the dungeon. Luckily, their biology is not well suited for the task, so they will take longer than gorgons."

"Right," Malachi said, but that's not where his mind was. Those were humans. It had been one thing to have the gorgons mistake him for a person from the empire. It was another to see them with his own eyes. They were just… people. Dress them in bluejeans and a t-shirt and they wouldn't have been out of place in a shopping mall. How are there humans? That was related to the kinds of questions the Portal Wiki contributors liked to analyze endlessly.

The most popular idea was that people had been exposed to mythological creatures by portals opening up in ancient times. There wasn't any evidence for this, but it felt right, so plenty of people liked it. The other leading idea was that convergent evolution meant that the humanoid form was just highly selected for, sort of like how ocean-going species kept evolving into more kinds of crab. Again, it was all speculation. But these weren't 'close enough' to people like elves were. These were straight-up humans.

So how did they get into this weird realm shit? And why are they… like that? Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Arisone was slithering close to the ground, flicking her tongue out.

"Here," she said.

"This kind of mud should help neutralize the ant venom." Malachi came over and looked at the mud suspiciously.

"Is that fungus growing in it going to poison me?"

"Even with your biology, the poison should be far too weak. As long as you don't eat it." Malachi continued looking at the mud, then sighed and picked up a handful and slapped it on his chest where the worst of the bites were. When no immediate message popped up, he continued. The cool mud felt good, and the worst of the pain really was fading.

At least one thing's gone right, he thought, all of about three seconds before the notification popped up: Conditions: Mudworm parasite (don't know what this does, having some issues with ERROR) He made a face that he hoped conveyed his deep disappointment and looked at Arisone.

"Are you familiar with mudworm parasites?"

"Yes? But they're harmless. They can't even penetrate a newborn's scales… ahh. I see the problem."

"Do you know how to, uh, get rid of them? Or what they do?" Arisone pondered that.

"Usually, rats will roll about in mericaust mushrooms. The poisonous cloud harms the parasite, but not them."

"You know what? We'll stick with the parasite for now. Let's get moving."

Over the next day, Arisone had them slow their pace. The nice part was she kept them from encountering anything too nasty. The nasty part involved creeping through the bushes and wading through muck. Malachi picked three more leeches off his arms, then had to peel some sort of stick insect off his shoulder that was trying to gnaw on him. Here, the Waterproofing enchantment proved its worth a thousand times over. Despite everything around him being wet, his feet stayed dry. That was nice.

They'd learned about soldiers getting trenchfoot in history class, and it didn't sound like much fun. The Stability enchantment also proved useful. Instead of sliding about in the mud, he could keep his balance and move faster. He still fell on his ass twice, but without the enchantment, it would have been worse. Arisone kept silent. He got the sense that she didn't talk much on a normal day, and here, it was obvious she needed to focus.

Twice, she had them duck down in the marshy reeds, and Malachi heard the cry of that griffin overhead. Another time, a root haunt rumbled by while they hid behind a tree. As they approached the dungeon, Malachi spotted columns of smoke beyond the trees.

"Campfires," Arisone whispered.

"Their camp is blocking the strait between the two ponds. We'll have to go around. Can you swim?"

"Yes." They moved carefully, with Arisone freezing and testing the air every so often. Through the trees, Malachi got his first glimpse of the dungeon. It looked like a Mayan ziggurat, only it was partially sunk into the swamp so that the structure sat at a slight angle. Thick moss and vines hung down from its sides. That brought them around to one of the sides where a nasty-looking pond sat. A thin mist wafted over the murky waters, and there was a red-brown floating algae nearby that smelled like a dog's asshole.

Malachi caught a ripple in the water and saw a smooth body.

"Venom lamprey," he said. Arisone looked around.

"I'll take care of it." She took her wand out. The wand glowed with two swirling colors: a spectral blue and a dark red light. Some sort of ghost-snake came out of the tip. Malachi shivered as it slithered through the air. It went below the water without making a sound or splash. Makes sense for a ghost, he supposed. Then the lamprey surfaced, thrashing in the water. Arisone cast another spell, and this time it only glowed the spectral blue color. Wisps of light moved through the air, nearly invisible in the fog.

The lamprey thrashed again violently, then went still.

"Damn. What was that?"

"I am trusting you, outsider, but not with every secret."

"Right." I guess that means I can keep my own secrets then.

"Are we safe to swim?" Arisone answered by slithering into the water, eerily silent as her body and tail undulated back and forth. Malachi followed, trying to avoid the grossest looking algae. He went with a breaststroke to minimize the noise. He felt something brush his leg under the water. That got his heart beating, but nothing dragged him under the water or tried to eat him.

He was relieved when his feet touched bottom again, though his enchanted boots had finally found their limits; even his feet were soaked now. Bits of algae and grime had absolutely covered his body. The gorgon, of course, had pristine scales and her breastplate didn't have a speck of mud on it. They crept closer. Mayan pyramids had staircases leading up to the top. This one had a staircase that only went up about a quarter of the way, then ended in some sort of gate.

There were five faceted green jewels in the arch over the gate. Three of them were glowing, and the gate below was open. There were a group of five humans adjusting packs and inspecting weapons. People, Malachi thought, and felt a knot twisting in his stomach. They really did look like regular people from Earth, except for their strange dress. It was hard to say if they'd fit in better at a Renaissance fair or a cosplay convention.

Two of them were wearing full plate armor, two robes and breastplates, and the last some sort of quilted armor. The many colored robes looked vaguely like reconstructed Sumerian apparel.

"That's too many to fight," Arisone whispered.

"Those three look like they're doing the trials. The other two already have classes, so must be guarding the entrance. From the smell, there's at least three more in the camp that will come running if there's a fight. The initiates must be high rank. They don't usually have such protection details." She made an annoyed hissing sound.

"They've already cleared most of the dungeon. This is probably their last delve, which gives us little time."

"So what do we do?" Malachi whispered back.

"There's a secret entrance below the water, but you wouldn't be able to fit, and would likely die from the poison. I will infiltrate. I can defeat the Warden before they do and at least deny them their trial prize. You will join them and delay them."

"Join them? Delay them? What? I'm not… I don't know the first thing about…"

"Say you were from one of the groups that was supposed to meet them. As for the rest, you'll think of something, my clever sentinel. Start running toward them and shouting."

"There's got to be a better plan. Let's talk this through—""There is no time. The dungeon is almost complete. A delay could ruin the mission and get us killed." Arisone reached out and turned his head toward her. She locked eyes with Malachi. Those eyes glowed with power.

"Do it," she commanded. Malachi felt the impulse run through him unchecked. He was running towards the group before he knew what he was doing. They immediately turned toward him, so even as his brain caught up, he realized he was committed. You fucking snake, he thought angrily.

"Help! A gorgon!" he shouted, running toward the group. One of the men wearing a steel cuirass raised a staff and a glowing ball of fire zipped out of it. At first, Malachi thought it was heading for him. He ducked, but it whizzed by well to his left. Behind him, he heard a chorus of angry hisses, the kind of noise nightmares were made of.

"Get it!" one of the men said. Another of the mages let out a stream of ice shards. Malachi hadn't understood how Arisone could tell the difference between someone with a class and without, but now he could. The fireball had been tiny. These ice shards chilled him just by passing two feet to his left. Whereas the fireball had made a sound like the kind of firecracker you hand to a kid for New Year's, the ice shards sounded like glass exploding as they hit behind him.

When he looked back, stumbling, he saw that wherever they'd hit had left patches of misting ice. His ankle caught a root, and he went sprawling in the mud a few feet away from the group.

"Pursue it!" said one of the men wearing the full plate armor. He sounded young. He had the same unnaturally pale skin that the mage that had been flying around earlier had.

"No, my lord," said the other. His armor seemed to have more sigils glowing on it than the other man's.

"Chasing gorgons about the swamp is a quick way to die."

"Damn muck asps!" the first man said, spitting the words.

"It's to be expected," said the ice mage, walking towards Malachi.

"Worry not. We're well versed in their tricks. We'll alert Derius and Gerasix to hunt it down." He jerked his head towards the camp, and the second armored man started trotting off towards the tents.

"You there—you're lucky to be alive." He reached a hand down and helped Malachi up.

"Yeah, thanks," he said. Malia was the one who had done the school plays as a kid. Malachi was the one who attempted to avoid anything adjacent to drama.

"What happened?" Shit, Malachi thought. Now came the hard part. If they figured out who he really was, he was dead.