Chương 81: Down Into Hell

A man came jogging up from deep within the mine shaft. He also looked so sunburned that his reddened cheekbones were practically scoured. But he had pips on the shoulders of his uniform and an authority about him that the other guards didn't.

"Captain," said one guard with a relieved nod. The captain looked over Thomas's disguised group.

"Well, I didn't expect you so soon." He waved them forward, already turning to go back into the shaft as if he couldn't stand to be up there.

"Follow me then." Visible tension bled away from the two guards. Thomas would have felt a lot better himself, except that he'd gotten a good look at the captain's face. The man bore a distinct resemblance to Zach. They had the same light hair, eyes, and bone structure. It wasn't enough to make them brothers, he guessed, but the resemblance was unmistakable. It seemed that direct members of the old family were working inside the dungeon. No wonder Zach was freaked.

Thomas didn't dare glance at the other man to confirm it, just stepped forward to follow the captain. There had to be magic or some other bullshit at play because the heat was gone the moment he stepped into the mine shaft. Instantly, he was blasted with sweet, sweet AC. A heat-loving Light Elf wouldn't feel great about the temperature drop, so Thomas pretended not to notice and just followed along.

Someone had put up drywall on either side of the mine shaft, probably to cut down on dust and to make it feel homey, like they weren't walking down into a cave system. There was halfway decent lighting too: the old fashioned dome lights found in mid-century homes instead of harsh fluorescent. That was why he was so surprised when they came to the first prison cells. They were deep alcoves cut straight into the rock with heavy grating bolted into the stone.

At least five people were crammed into each cell, and Thomas caught glimpses of them as they passed. Mostly they looked well fed, but almost terminally bored. Also, every one of them wore ankle monitors. These were bigger and bulkier versions than the one Twitch had worn, made of some sort of dull, dark metal. But it looked to be roughly the same tech, just upgraded, and each flashed with a green light. Thomas glanced sideways at Twitch. The man said nothing and just walked on, but his jaw was locked tight.

Zach's terrified his crappy family will recognize him, and Twitch is barely holding it together, he thought. Guess it's up to me, damn it. The guard captain wasn't trying to fill the silence, and Thomas got the feeling one of them should be saying something. This was the kind of thing that Zach excelled in, but he'd clammed right up.

"Quota's up to date?" Thomas asked, making sure that his voice remained flat as if disinterested in the answer.

"Yes sir," the captain said, not turning back.

"We're ahead of it, actually. We've been running extraction crews every six hours, 24/7." Thomas let a beat of silence stretch out before he hummed, "Mm." Sateryn didn't seem like the type to engage in small talk, so Thomas wasn't going to either. He just wanted to not look suspicious. They kept walking past more alcoves, and now the prisoners looked distinctly rougher, thinner, and somewhat hollow-eyed. Thomas felt nausea settle deep in his stomach.

He didn't think it was the Burden poking at him, but basic human dignity. The mine shaft kept stretching on and on. Thomas was highly aware that every step took them further from escape, aside from Zach's teleportation. If this was a trap, then they were walking straight into it. Not a great feeling. They came to a fork in the tunnel. Not that there was a sign in sight indicating which way led where. OSHA would be very annoyed. Abruptly, the captain stopped and turned back to them.

"Oh, that's right, I didn't introduce myself, did I? I'm Frederic de'Montvallon, guard captain." Then he casually stuck out his hand. Thomas's first reaction was, of course, to shake it, thanks to years of ingrained politeness. But he only began to move forward before something inside screamed a warning. He abruptly felt that the man's hand was... rotten. Like he was wearing a human glove on the outside, but the inside was rotting, diseased flesh.

It felt very close to when that dark wizard had injected his mana into Thomas and locked him in place with nightmare hallucinations. Somehow, Thomas was able to control both stepping forward and the recoil and instead redirected the energy into a slow blink. Channeling Sateryn for all he was worth, he tilted his chin up as though he was offended by the suggestion of a handshake. Actually, that wasn't far from the truth. He did not want to touch this man.

Frederic held out his hand for a moment, then let it drop, his grin turning sharp.

"Oh, I forgot. You elves don't do handshakes, do you?" That had been a test.

"We don't," Thomas said, icily.

"Forgive me. You know how primitive we Terrans are," Frederic said, with bitter irony. Thomas guessed that Frederic had been on the receiving end of Light elves looking down their elegant noses at him. So Thomas inclined his head as if in agreement. With a slight sneer, Frederic turned and went down the right-hand corridor. Zach caught Thomas' eye and there was a hint of relief in his gaze. He'd recognized the test too, and the fact that Thomas had barely passed it. Feel free to step in any time, Thomas thought.

But considering the rot he'd felt from Frederic... maybe Zach had good reason to be wary. What the hell was the de'Montvallon family caught up in? The tunnel beyond widened into a larger chamber. At one end stood the dungeon entrance, bracketed by two more guards holding long, gleaming swords. There was no doubt at all this was a Light-based dungeon. Pure white energy seemed to pour out of the rainbow-shimmering surface, as if someone were beaming in floodlights from the other side.

In the back of Thomas's mind, he heard an old, creaky voice whisper, Don't walk into the light, Carol Anne. It had that vibe.

"Here it is," Frederic said, stopping a good fifteen feet away. He must have caught Thomas's expression as he saw the entrance because he smirked.

"You guys love this Light mana shit, right?"

"It is the superior element," Thomas said, because that sounded like something a Light elf would say.

"I prefer something with a bit more bite," Frederic replied, dryly. Then he went over to a clipboard that was hanging on the wall, grabbed it, and handed it over to Thomas. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Zach, though, moved in smoothly and took the clipboard instead, making a show of flicking through the pages. Frederic seemed a little taken aback, but quickly explained.

"These are the rosters for every dungeon dive, including the amounts of mana crystals and items that were reported gathered, length of dives, and the frequency. As you can see, over the last week we have moved from eight-hour intervals to six-hour. And thanks to the influx of new divers, we're hoping to bring that down to four."

"There should be a team entering every two hours," Thomas said, just to be an asshole.

"It is only a Level 3 dungeon, and as you said, we have brought you more divers. What does it take to increase the frequency?"

"Two hours would strip this dungeon clean!" Frederic protested.

"The family won't ever allow that... unless you start bringing us more feed along with better divers." Feed? Somehow Thomas didn't think he was talking about dog chow. Frederic must have mistaken their silence for him scoring a point. His voice was oily as he added, "Now, before you get started with this inspection, you should know that the inventory room is strictly off-limits without prior authorization from one of the head family." He smiled.

"I'm sure you understand." Ah, he thought they were there to pillage the store of goods. In fact, he waited until they came all this way just to drop that bomb for maximum inconvenience. Thomas didn't care one way or another. It meant that Frederic thought they really were elves, and it was becoming clearer and clearer he didn't like them. He arranged his expression into a scowl and said, "We're not here for trinkets." Though he made sure to sound extra annoyed about it, like he really had been.

"You were given a superior dungeon. We're here to find out why you are not maximizing its potential." There. If he played his cards right, he could angle an 'inspection' of the prisoners he suspected were acting as dive teams. Frederic took the bait.

"If you think it's so easy, why don't you dive in and find out how 'superior' your dungeon is." Zach answered before Thomas could.

"We will." He lowered the clipboard, "With your Alpha team." Frederic didn't bother to hide his sneer.

"You want to see how the new prisoner you made such a stink over is doing?" He looked them over as something new seemed to occur to him.

"Or maybe interrogate her where no one can see?" Thomas did not like those implications at all, but kept his expression neutral.

"I have my orders."

"Whatever." Frederic turned to a landline phone that hung on the wall, obviously meaning to call in orders. As he did, Thomas distinctly heard him mutter, " freaks." Well, it was nice that even people who were rotting inside had some standards.

Thomas heard the sound of metal clanking against stone from further down one of the tunnels, and envisioned one of those heavy steel grates opening up to let the prisoners out. Considering there was an entire junction they hadn't gone down, it wasn't a surprise there were jail cells further beyond. Within a few minutes, four prisoners were led into the chamber: two men and two women carrying crude, rusted blades as weapons. All wore bulky ankle monitors. Jo was at the back of the line.

Thomas took in a deep breath, then let it out. Jo was dressed in shapeless gray clothing like the other prisoners, and dirty like she hadn't seen a shower for weeks instead of the days she'd been gone. But she was alive and, more importantly, whole, without visible sign of injury. She was alert and her eyes burned with anger. The whole team looked pissed, actually. One man, who was built on the scale of a fully loaded SUV with wide shoulders and a bushy biker beard, glared at Frederic.

"It's only been three hours since we came out. We're allowed at least eight hours of downtime." Frederic waved at Thomas's group.

"Our guests wanted to see the show, and you are the best." The big guy scowled under his beard, but said no more. It wasn't like he could appeal to a union. Then Courtney strode in behind them all. The last time Thomas had seen her had been when she and her group of CrossFit-looking dude-bros had tried to ambush him and Ashton in the Vegetable Greenhouse dungeon.

As she now wore a brown guard uniform, it seemed she had found herself a new job, probably after her teammate, Tad Woolworth, had screwed up so badly siding with the Brightons. Thomas very carefully did not look at Zach. There was a scuffling sound from beyond, and two more guards dragged out another man. He was bound at the ankles and wrists, and gagged. His eyes were wide with terror. The guards shoved him forward so hard he nearly tripped into the big guy.

"Who's that?" Twitch asked, speaking for the first time since they'd come in here. Frederic didn't quite roll his eyes at the question.

"The feed." That was what Thomas had been afraid of. Dungeons recouped, or even gained, energy by the deaths of divers and the items they left behind. Apparently, they ate anything, absorbing even pollution that they could remake into mana and goods. Why in the fuck weren't these rich assholes feeding the dungeon garbage or nuclear waste or something, anything other than human beings? Surely there were dumps in Arizona?! Thomas was going to be sick.

All those people he'd passed by in the cells had probably been kept there for this purpose. No wonder they'd looked well-fed. Every calorie counted.

"What's he doing?" Zach demanded out of nowhere. Thomas shot a glance at him, thinking that he was taking the attention for himself because Thomas was on the verge of doing something very, very stupid, only to find Zach looking over to a shadowed part of the room. There was a young man about Zach's age sweeping dust near a tunnel wall. He wore a gray uniform sort of like the prisoners, only with orange stripes, and had no ankle monitor. He had the air of a janitor. Frederic followed his gaze and shrugged.

"Him? He's just an idiot. The family lets him clean."

"It is ridiculous you allow weakness among you at all." There was no trace of Zach's laid-back surfer tone. He was imperious and cold.

"This is why your kind stays so pathetic. You let the weak stand among the strong and call it mercy. The cleaner should be feeding the dungeon instead of that one." He nodded to the bound man. Everyone was staring at him, but most especially Courtney. Her eyes narrowed like she caught something familiar in Zach's voice but couldn't quite place it. Thomas's heart pounded. What was Zach doing? Frederic broke the tension with a laugh.

"Sure, why not. You want results out of this dungeon? Two feeding it is better than one." With that, he went over and grabbed the janitor and hauled him over. The poor man looked confused and didn't fight. He didn't seem to understand what was happening at all until he was forced toward the dungeon entrance. Thomas gritted his teeth against the man's frightened, guttural sounds. If he were also being physically injured, he might have stepped in and damn the consequences.

However there were four guards, not including Courtney and Frederic, plus more within shouting distance, no doubt. The prisoners would likely fight for their freedom, but it might take them a few precious moments to get on board. That was if the ankle monitor didn't kill them first. He couldn't take that chance with Jo's life. This had to be done in stages: the first step was taking on the guards while inside the dungeon where, as had been so helpfully pointed out, there would be no witnesses.

So Thomas focused on the prisoners, who all had their eyes carefully on the ground. Everyone was pretending not to see the men being shoved into the dungeon ahead of them. Then it was their turn.

"No need to go, Frederic," he heard Courtney say cheerfully behind him.

"I'll follow along and keep watch." Thomas walked alongside Twitch. Zach was a step ahead, with the prisoners including Jo just in front. The level 3 dungeon had a bigger safe room than most, though it wasn't large enough to hold them all. The two guards who had gone in first had already opened the second door. Zach subvocalized,"Tom, keep Jo and the others safe. Twitch, watch our backs. I'll take the guards." With a nod, Thomas reached for his bag. They stepped from the safe room into another cave, oddly enough.

This one was darker and moodier, with fern-like plants popping out here and there. The walls were studded with gems that glowed soft cream and gold, providing enough light to see by. The second they cleared the safe room, they moved. Thomas grabbed his shield and pushed his arm into the strap. His mutable shield took on the aspect of his mana, turning the glittery rose-flesh gold of Healing, Adaptation, and Wellspring shot through with Light mana.

He swung between the prisoners and the guards, who were busy hauling in the condemned, struggling men. Jo saw his distinctive shield, of course, and he heard her make a short, half-wordless sound before she caught herself. Then Zach threw himself at the guards. One shadow blade flicked out, and Thomas had to look away. This was a rescue mission, and they could not afford a pineapple moment. The now-freed janitor howled with animal fear.

From the wild look on his face, he was no fan of dungeons or people fighting around him. Meanwhile, Twitch had turned as if he'd practiced the move and grabbed Courtney just as she strode out of the safe room, smacking something square and metallic out of her hand before clapping her upside the head with the flat of his blade. She went down like a sack of potatoes. Thomas heard the crackle of fire, and the screams of the guards.

"Zach, don't kill them!" Jo yelled.

"You'll bring them to us–" It was too late. From around the next bend in the cave came the sound of static. Thomas never thought of that as a loud noise before, but this was ear-piercing and seemed to spike through his brain. Thomas whipped around to look in time to see a cloud of fist-sized electric wisp-things rounding the corner. They were shaped vaguely like humans, and when they saw the group, their mouths split unnaturally wide to reveal pointed teeth.

Then, as one, the cloud of dungeon monsters charged forward.