Chapter 105
Meeting an actual dungeon—or former dungeon—had to be a new thing for everyone, not just Ellen. The fact that it didn’t give her any first time awards was baffling, but maybe she needed to interact more. After all, she couldn’t think of many other situations where just meeting someone warranted an award. It still felt momentous, so she felt a little cheated.
Being close to her next Level didn’t help.
“This should be it!” Dungeon Ellen exclaimed, gesturing at the small group of Ellens. Merchant, Bookkeeper, herself, Miner, and Smith were all present. A total of six Ellens, counting the dungeon as one… which Dungeon herself had said they shouldn’t. Not too far away the other Ellens were going back to their various business, which at this time was just preparing the roof of the Academy. Mason had not been invited, and knew enough to direct the others.
Bookkeeper settled onto the bench they kept near the workshop, nudging Merchant to scoot over. “What is this big secret then? Why can’t you tell all the Ellens?”
Dungeon looked at her with a puzzled expression. “I just don’t want to be around so many others. You can tell them whatever you want, I just don’t think it will help. I think it will be most useful to the magical crafters!”
A loud throat-clearing noise came from Merchant. “That isn’t what you told us. You said you had some way of calming down the mana plume, not helping the crafters. That’s a little more important if there’s going to be one of these ‘mana volcano’ things.”
With a heavy sigh, Dungeon made a waving motion with one arm. “It’s the same thing! I have a lot of holes in what I’m supposed to say, you know. Just try to listen to me because I don’t know all the words for what I’m trying to say! It’ll help us both though! I don’t want the dungeon taking me back, and you don’t want the mana going wild, and the dungeon just wants to get more people inside it doing things. Or more of you dead, either works for it.”
Ellen was the first to say where her thoughts went next, even if she saw dawning comprehension on the faces of the other Ellens. “This is about mana crystals, isn’t it? You’re looking for people who can form mana crystals?”
“To make mana solid, yes!” Dungeon clapped her hands as she shouted agreement. “See? That wasn’t hard. I don’t know if they’re called mana crystals but the words sound right. You take mana and push it together until it stops moving. That’s how the dungeon made me. Except then I started moving because I was supposed to.”
Bookkeeper relaxed and nodded. “I get it now. You’re not just a dungeon monster… those are made of mana. You’re a high-potency one with a mana crystal core, like some floor bosses? Is that it?”
Vigorous nodding met the question, and Dungeon smiled wider. “Yes! Almost. What you call a floor boss—those words make sense to me—can have a crystal in it. I have more than one, and they keep me from falling apart out of the dungeon. It kept me going because they gave it a way to keep giving me mana, but when it pushed a lot into me at once I stopped needing its support.”
Even simplified, this was getting hard for Ellen to follow. Mage or the old Scholar could probably get more use out of this… or Leona herself, when she got back. For now it was just confusing how that worked, but she doubted Dungeon had the vocabulary to truly answer the questions she wanted to ask.
Ellen stuck to the matter at hand. “I can use mana crystals, but forming them is a lot harder. I think I see what you’re trying to do though.”
Smith nodded along. “Yes, me too. You need crystals made to bleed off the excess until it stabilizes, right? That’s obvious if you think about it. You could have just said it, though. It’s not hard to guess.”
“I don’t know what’s obvious and what isn’t!” Dungeon complained. “Yeah, it will work if you do that, but it will take an awful lot. Just one or two won’t do it, you need a lot more. The good thing is you don’t have to keep doing it forever… it’ll slow down if you don’t try to use it all up at once like the dungeon does.”
Bookkeeper frowned and pushed her glasses up slightly. “And how do you know all this, anyway? You keep saying you don’t know anything, but you can speak to us just fine, and you know an awful lot about how the dungeon works. Wouldn’t it help you if this mana volcano happened?”
To that, Dungeon only shrugged. “It would help me some, but also feed the dungeon, and then you would be gone and the dungeon would want me back. I know this like I know other things… I know some of what the dungeon knows, and the dungeon is told things by the System. I want to stay here, and I want the Ellens to be here.”
She frowned. “But if it killed you all would you make more? Would the System stop making you? I do not know…”
Ellen was barely listening now. Dungeon seemed to be rambling a little, and Ellen much preferred to keep an eye on the nearby construction. All of the Ellens were fidgeting now… except Miner, who was hugging herself and looked a little lost. She felt a pang of sympathy for that Ellen. Of the eight who had been the Adventuring Party, several had been suffering strange episodes like that, where they suddenly felt isolated even when surrounded.
“Smith is the only one who can make mana crystals. If that’s all you needed, you should talk to her,” Merchant suggested. “We’re very busy here. Smith, why don’t you see what Dungeon knows about how to stop this? Maybe it will give you more mana crystals to work with.”
“I have plenty for now, but more can’t hurt,” Smith agreed with a smile. “Okay, Dungeon Ellen. We’ll step inside the forge and you can tell me how to keep this plume under control. Sound good?”
Dungeon frowned again but nodded. “I think more than one will be needed, but you can tell me what you can do. There are ways to quickly make more.” She rose to her feet and waited for Smith to guide her.
“We should hurry,” Dungeon Ellen added. “The dungeon may try something if it learns our plans, and it has ways of finding out.”
She’d known about the Other before she sensed it. The knowledge that the Deep One had given her did not always make sense to her, but this time when she felt the presence of the Other, she understood. She wondered if the Deep One truly understood her, though. She sensed feelings of anger and violence toward the Other, but the reason was not one she cared about.
Maggie did not understand language. All she understood was that the Deep One had made her smarter and stronger, and asked her to watch the Nest. Now that she was smarter, she could dimly think back and understand that the Nest had been growing. The idea of counting was still forming in her brain, but she knew that before there were few, and now there were many.
The Nest was nice, though. They provided warmth, both at night and day. Most of the Nest did not bother her, nor any of her kin. They had become much like her family, providing a place of safety to retreat to when the hunt was done. Prey had become much more common of late, and feeding her litter had been much easier than before. Now her litter was old enough to hunt for themselves, and Maggie was content.
Most of the time.
Today was one such content day. It was warm enough that one of the safe places was open, letting the sun pour in. The noises from nearby told her some of the Nest was doing something, but she didn’t care. If she felt like it, she would share her senses with the Deep One so that it could hear. It irritated the Deep One that she did not do this more, but she failed to understand why it wanted the nonsense sounds that the Nest made with their mouths most of the time.
It probably meant something, but Maggie only cared when she heard worry or panic in the voices. Or when they said the sound she’d come to associate with her. She knew the Nest called out a certain sound when they wanted her attention. She would pay attention to that.
Sometimes. If she felt like it.
Right now she didn’t care what they were saying or doing. The Other had arrived, and she had for a short time let the Deep One see and hear through her. Then she had wanted to take a nap, and so she did. That was the idea, but sleep had not come yet, only that pleasant warm relaxation. This space was often warmer than the others, except when the Nest slept at night. She had learned to stay away from the warmest places, as they would become choking and smell bad and dirty her fur. Near the window was best, with warmth washing over her as it flowed from the fire out the window.
The barrier to the outside opened, startling Maggie into motion. Without thinking, she bolted up onto a higher surface, then another, curling up on the dry wooden place in the darkness high above those who entered. It was one of her many places to hide, where she could look down upon those of the Nest that played here.
She did not understand the play, but it made great warmth. It was too bad that the play would often turn into noise that made her ears hurt. When that happened she would find a new place to nap.
It did not appear that the Nest was going to make that noise this time. Only one entered, but with the Other. The Other almost seemed like it belonged in the Nest, but it felt more like the Deep One. Maggie considered letting the Deep One see and hear again… but some dim part of her understood that its interest in the Other was because the Other had left it.
Maggie did not like the idea of confinement, so she let the Other have its secrets. If she had known the Deep One’s anger was from the Other wanting to wander away, she would not have agreed to help it. She had thought it a parent looking for a lost kitten, but the Other was old enough to take care of itself.
The Other spoke to the member of the Nest for several moments, making wide gestures with its stringy paws. The Nest member spoke back with smaller gestures, and then they went back and forth in a way that Maggie couldn’t follow. The Nest was always confusing that way.
Then the Other produced something like a long fang and thrust it into the member of the Nest.
Maggie sat upright, tensing… but she sensed no hostility from the Other. Confusion from the member of the Nest, yes, but the Other was still talking even as the Nest member fell to the floor. Maggie had seen death before, and this smelled like death… but something was wrong.
The Other stood over the body of the Nest member and went silent, then made a happy noise. The scent of the Nest faded some, and instead of a bleeding body on the floor only the soft outer skins that the Nest made to cover their furless bodies remained. The body was gone, and with it the scent of blood. Maggie’s fur stood on end at the unnatural development.
While Maggie repressed a hiss, the Other gathered the skins. The wooden fang vanished, and the Other walked out of the shadowed place. It was hard to tell, since the Other was so strange, but it seemed satisfied and unworried.
The shouting outside started, and Maggie bolted out the window this time, away from the chaos.