Spire's Spite

Fritz slept fitfully.

The events of the previous floor tormented him with the image of Steve’s shattered face. He saw his mother's broken body lying in a pool of blood.

A pool of scarlet that expanded with sloshing waves, covering the wooden floorboards, filling the room and rising to his ankles. The once cosy sitting room was flooding with the endless sanguine tide, he was up to his chest, his neck, over his head, then he was drowning.

Not drowning in the freezing water of the eerie sea around the spire but in heat, sickly warm, cloying, terrible heat. He couldn’t breathe. He was sinking, sinking, sunk at the bottom of a lake of red, the lake he had filled with his own stained hands. Or would fill given time.

He choked, startling awake to find Bert’s arm lying across his face and his snoring, idiot face close to his own. Fritz pushed the arm up and away, rolled onto his side and took a deep breath of the dry air.

Gasping and glancing around the stone room he dreaded to catch a glimpse of Steve’s face amongst the broken statues. His stomach roiled and he near vomited again. He held back the nausea, he would need every morsel of food for the floor ahead, he couldn’t go wasting it on the smooth stone of this room.

He sat up, lifting himself to his feet he made his way to the three Doors that awaited them, no, taunted them. He was only a little surprised to see Sid sitting near them and going over her gear in preparation for their next floor.

“Heyo, Sid,” Fritz greeted groggily. “Early riser?”

“I just don’t sleep much. The jobs I took kept me out and about at all hours, day or night. I just take cat naps where I can,” Sid replied, alert and awake as ever. Though Fritz could see that her eyes definitely had deeper shadows.

“Did you look at the Doors some?” Fritz asked.

“Yeah, a little. Couldn’t tell you which one to pick. But the one on the left seems promising, seems less ominous than the other two,” Sid suggested shrugging.

“Well, that's where Door Sense comes in. Lucky lady,” Fritz responded jovially.

“Lucky lady?” Sid said raising an eyebrow in mild annoyance.

“Of course, can’t go around calling you lucky lad. Well, not anymore at least. And all who climb with the Fantastic Fritz and the Adequate Albert are deemed lucky!” Fritz explained exaggeratedly as if he was peddling some dubious wares to suspicious prospective buyers.

Sid sighed. Sighing seems to be catching around here, or is it just me, Fritz mused as he waited for Sid to respond. Sid didn’t respond. The silence stretched on and Fritz considered it a challenge, a test of who can wait out the other. The minutes drew on and Fritz smiled blandly at Sid, who was pointedly ignoring him, busying herself by putting away the last of her gear.

She was a worthy opponent. But Fritz had refined his stubbornness. condensed until in his mind it resembled a great monolith of black shadowy stone.

“Shadowy?” Fritz blurted out.

“What was that?” Sid asked smiling as if she had won a round of poker.

“Nothing,” Fritz replied through tight lips.

There was a yell, Bert’s yell, “What are you doing Fritz? Standing around being a nuisance to poor Sid? Go Door Sense the Doors, you bloody idiot.”

He had noticed his friend walking up of course and had heard his footsteps as he approached, but he was too preoccupied to register them. Should probably be focusing more on the surroundings than petty games. Still best not let them see you properly repentant, it’s bad for morale, Fritz mused.

“Very well, I shall look at the Doors,” Fritz proclaimed with the air of someone long suffering from ill-treatment.

Fritz strode to the Doors, all neatly arrayed left to right and started searching, as he usually did, the leftmost Door.

It was carved of what seemed to be some sort of chalky white stone, maybe something akin to plaster. Fritz ran his fingers across its surface, noting its roughness and that it left no residue on his fingers. The stairs were more of a ramp and he could smell a salty tang in the air like a sea breeze.

A nice walk down a beach perhaps? He thought. Well, now’s the time, let's use this Door sense. Fritz reached down into his Sanctum and found the Power there waiting on the edge of his perception.

He activated Door Sense and felt a trickle of new information dripped into his mind. It was fuzzy, hard to make out but it gave the distinct impression that it was a floor of hidden dangers and little in the way of monsters. Unfortunately, he also got the impression that most of the floor was water. Not just water, the heaviness he felt from the strange sensations of Door Sense was warning him the Door opened deep underwater.

Fritz shuddered, that would be a terrible surprise and maybe a fatal one if one didn’t hold their breath or have some sort of magic potion like they had gotten from Jagged Nic. Well, that Door can be crossed off.

He turned to the second Door, one of strange green glass sparkling with flecks of gold. Its arch was a graceful curve, with a single eye carved at its peak. It opened onto steps of pale yellow stone and smelt of nothing so much as a dusty room.

Fritz reached out again with his new sense and found it much more helpful. The Ability revealed to him this floor was a smaller floor than the last couple and had but one danger. A powerful enemy no doubt, but a singular one. He also could feel something of a link between it and the green glass of the Door.

One big monster. Maybe made of the same glass as the Door? Fritz guessed. Once he thought he had gleaned all he could from this Door he moved to the next and last.

The rightmost Door appeared as a circular tunnel bored into the dark smooth stone of the Well Room. The unmistakable stench of brimstone wafted out from the warm dark that stretched upwards. Fritz felt into the tunnel searching for dangers that lay beyond.

The impressions that returned gave him a feeling that there was something in the Room he needed to protect that there were monsters that sought to destroy the important, beautiful, most precious orb. How dare they, that was the way up, it was everything, I must save it!

He caught himself before he rushed headlong into the tunnel heedless of his team. Fritz shook his head dispelling the powerful impression with some effort.

What was that? Some sort of compulsion or mind magic? Fritz gulped, sweat dripped from his brow into his eye and he steadily backed away from the tunnel. He hadn’t noticed the strain that shaking off whatever had just seized him until his shaky legs almost sent him falling onto his back.

“Not that Door then,” Fritz mumbled to himself.

“What? You checked them out enough Fritz?” Sid asked striding to his side in her gleaming silver breastplate. “Why are you sweating?”

“Uhhh, the Door or whatever is beyond it, tried to possess me,” Fritz said distracted, still trying to get his mind under control.

Sid looked startled at the revelation but swallowed down any hasty remarks, instead pointing at the tunnel Door and saying, “That one?”

“Yeah, I think it may have been a puzzle room or something, It wanted me to protect the ‘orb.’ Whatever that is,” Fritz replied steadying himself by leaning, one hand outstretched, on the statue of Sid.

“Hey, why are you groping Sid’s statue?” Bert asked as he appeared grinning.

Fritz glanced at where his hand was placed, finding it was high on the stone of Sid’s carved inner thigh. He quickly withdrew his hand, as if the rock burned and gave the living, glaring Sid a sheepish smile. “Whoops, sorry Sid. Didn’t mean to...uhhh...caress your shapely, stony thigh.”

She stared. “Why would I care if you copped a feel from a statue?” She asked gruffly.

“Well, it's you,” Fritz said confused.

“I’m me. That’s a carved rock,” Sid stated as she started wringing her scarf. Fritz decided to agree with the young lady. It was after all just a rock, a pretty rock.

Fritz coughed and said, “As you say, lady.”

“And enough with the lady this and lady that, just call me Sid,” She demanded.

Bert groaned, “Nooooo, don’t tell him that, he’ll be calling you lady Sid for the rest of the climb. How do you think I ended up as Bert? Even if the name has grown on me.”

Fritz’s face lit up in glee at first then fell when he learnt Bert was getting used to his nickname. I’ll have to come up with a new, more annoying, nickname now.

“See that, I shouldn’t have said anything about getting used to Bert. That face means he’s scheming something new and infuriating,” Bert groused.

Damn it, he’s on to me. Better distract him.

“So I took a look at the Doors and inspected them with my Door Sense,” Fritz explained. “The one on the left exits underwater, so that one is out, don’t want to immediately drown.” Fritz shuddered as an image from his dream flashed in his mind.

“The middle one has some sort of nasty monster, probably made of a similar substance as its Door. And the last door has some sort of compulsion that makes you want to protect an orb from monsters, I think floors like that are called Siege rooms?” Fritz ended with a question to Bert and Sid.

“Haven’t heard of them,” Bert announced smugly.

“I have. What I read you probably shouldn't attempt them without more than one person acting as a Defender,” Sid said frowning as she searched her memories.

“So I think we should go through the middle Door,” Fritz supplied.

“You said the monster will be made of the same green glass stuff?” Sid asked looking over her arrows in frustration. “My arrows won't be effective against that.”

“Yeah, sorry. Maybe switch to the sling for this fight? Still got Stones?” Fritz suggested.

“More stones than you, Fritz,” Bert said happily as if he was helping.

Sid sighed in disappointment but nodded in agreement. She removed the string from her bow and placed it in a bag then draped the long length of wood over her shoulder like a staff.

“Let’s get going then,” Sid said.

“What no discourse on which Door to choose?” Fritz asked tentatively.

“No, you’re the Guide,” Sid said.

“No way, I don’t want to be blamed for whatever Door we choose. You got this, Fritz,” Bert added dodging responsibility as easily as he would a punch.

“Not a Guide,” Fritz said bitterly.

“Sorry, Fritz. But you know what I mean,” Sid apologised while slapping a stone into her sling. “We ready or not?”

Bert and Fritz glanced at each other then scrambled to go fetch their equipment. They didn’t have much to organise or gather, having been either left behind or gifted away to Faeries. While rooting through a bag, Fritz rediscovered Greg’s black helmet.

He pulled the bulky iron helm free and stood, offering it to Bert. He refused the extra protection, saying, “Going fully unarmoured, remember?”

Fritz grumbled something about Bert being a fool but his heart wasn’t in it, he felt uncomfortable just handling the only memento of his dead crew. He tied off his bags and packs and slung them over his shoulder, deciding to hand off the helm to Sid if she wanted it.

Fritz and Bert made their way to the three Doors Bert humming his marching tune the whole short way.

“Want Greg’s helm?” Fritz said, extending the hunk of black iron to Sid.

She shook her head, “The visor’s too narrow. I need to be able to see to loose stones and arrows.”

“I also need to be able to see,” Fritz said. “Maybe, we’ll just sell it outside the Spire, it’s got to be worth a few silver triads at least.”

“You should carry it on your belt when not scouting and slap it on when the fighting starts,” Bert sternly suggested.

The thought irked Fritz but he couldn’t quite pin down why. Was it guilt? Regret? Fritz sighed and agreeing, slipped it into a bag tied off on his belt. It dangled weightily, bouncing against his hip as he walked towards the middle, green glass Door.

Fritz signalled the all clear and strode onto the pale yellow stone steps, walking upwards to the next trial.

Even after leading the way through a Door three times before, he still felt the tight stress in his muscles and bubbling fear in his gut as he ascended. He had more information this time, knew more or less what to expect but it still couldn’t calm his nerves. He wondered if the fear ever went away, he supposed that was one of the questions he should have asked his father.

The yellow stone steps gave way to a room, with a high cavernous ceiling of green glass complete with stalactites, that resembled twisted spears. His Trap Sense trilled at the sight of them. The walls were also made of the same glass, and they looked to have pooled or melted into place, like some great screen of translucent wax. The room was illuminated by shafts of light descending from between the spears like great white columns.

In the centre of the circular, almost arena-like room was an immaculately carved bull of the same green glass as the Door and walls. It was lying down, unmoving but even in its sleeping state it looked to be twice as tall as Fritz and counting its horns thrice his height. Deep within the glass was an obscured mass of gold. A heart, Fritz realised a huge heart of gold the size of his head if not bigger.

Greed buzzed through him, calling out, telling him to go steal the precious heart, but he stopped himself easily. Wouldn’t have much of a career as a burglar if he followed every greedy instinct he had. The trick was to know when to take risks and when to call it quits. And that heart was one big risk.

Fritz instead stepped into the room and to the side of the entrance way, searching for the Door out. There was none he could see and the room was at most forty yards across.

Sid and Bert scurried in behind Fritz looking around at the room.

They didn’t notice the stalactites so he pointed them out saying, “My Trap Sense tells me they’re dangerous, be on a lookout for falling spears of glass.

“Huh. I can see them now, they sorta blended into the roof before, nice job,” Bert said clapping Fritz on the back quietly.

“That’s what I’m here for. There’s no Door that I can see, maybe it’s hidden or maybe it only appears when we beat the bull?” Fritz theorised in a whisper.

“Seems likely, Bert time to take the bull by the horns,” Sid said giggling at her own joke.

Fritz and Bert just stared at her aghast at the truly terrible line.

“I was just about to say that,” Bert griped as if she had stolen the last toffee.

Fritz stared at him in horror, coming to the terrible realisation that he was the only one equipped with a good sense of humour left in the team. In that moment he almost missed Toby’s dry wit or even Jane’s acid tongue, almost. If there is a Spire Aligned to comedy I’m going to find it then drag these two through it.

There was a subtle shift in the air behind Fritz and he turned to see the staircase down disappearing, fading away like some sort of ghost. It was the first time he had seen it happen, the first time he had even noticed it had happened. Did I actually never notice that the stairways had been disappearing behind us? Why did I notice it now? Door Sense again? Or maybe Awareness, maybe both working in tandem like Trap Sense and Perception?

Fritz shook his head, it wasn’t important right now, what was important was breaking that bull. He glanced at his fish blade and wished he had taken the copper hammer from his fight with Steve’s crew. A blunt instrument would’ve been far preferable to his current equipment against such a creature.

Still, he had hope that his new dagger might hold up to the creature's glassy translucent bulk, it didn’t break when he tried to destroy the cursed thing after all. He spun the dagger deftly in his hand and shuddered inwardly when was viciously reminded of when he had seen Steve perform the exact same trick.

“Let’s drop our packs and bags, I have a feeling they’ll just weigh us down in this fight,” Fritz ordered, setting down his own bags.

“What if the Door appears during the fight?” Bert asked but unslinging his extra gear anyway.

“Well, we could do that but have you seen what its heart is made of?” Fritz said eagerly.

“All I can see is a dark splotch deep in its chest,” Sid responded. “What is it made of?”

“Gold,” Fritz answered eyes alight in avarice. He saw the familiar light of greed glitter in both sets of eyes, Sid licked her lips and Bert grinned wide like a madman.

“Guess we have a heart to break free,” Bert said eagerly whilst doing a set of stretches outlined in the Arte Pugilist.

Fritz and Sid joined in with a couple of stretches of their own. Fritz trying to make a point of not staring at Sid while she reached and bent with graceful movements.

Don’t get distracted.

Once they were limbered up, had thought up a battle plan and were ready to move Fritz ordered, “No use waiting, sling at that thing!”

Sid’s sling let out a whirling whistle as she got the strap up to speed, the air moved, dancing around her and wreathing the sling stone in whipping winds. It loosed with a snap, streaking away in a blur, striking the bull right in its carved eye with a tremendous crack that echoed across the room.

The green glass fractured into a web of pale lanes, spreading across the left side of the bull's horned head. The bull rippled, its heart kindled with light, causing its chest to glow like the noon sun behind dark clouds. It heaved itself up easily, almost gracefully, and turned its good eye to Sid as she prepared another sling stone.

It charged, picking up speed at a terrifying rate, its terrible bulk racing towards Sid with the clear intent to paste her against the glass of the wall she stood before. This was all in the plan, Fritz let loose with a Stone Pit right under one of its thundering hooves, whilst Bert moved to engage the construct’s side.

The creature slipped in the hole, but its course was barely altered and it continued its unstoppable charge towards Sid. Fritz cursed, he thought it would have more of an effect. The ground trembled under his feet and he tried his next Ability, seizing the cool, shadowy power in his centre. He felt the power twist in his mind and he pulled it out summoning the ball of black into existence over the bull's head.

When he imagined the placement of the ability blocking the bull's sight the shadow felt like it had malleability? He felt like he could stretch it, change its black sphere into something else. He did, with difficulty. He pulled at the shady mass forcing it into a disk of darkness that he could only just see through, as though he was peering through an intensely grimy window.

The bull ploughed through it but it gave time for Sid to move gracefully to the side out of the way of the bull's huge body. The great creature wasn’t blinded for long though and it angled its great horn to gore Sid. It would have run her through as well, Sid’s movements were precise, but she just wasn’t fast enough to cover all the distance needed to get away from its sweeping horns.

Fortunately for everyone, Bert lunged in with a bellowing cry, his first rippling in small rapid waves and he punched the bull straight in the side producing a heavy thunk, that could still be heard over the thunderous hooves. A fist-sized crack appeared where Bert had struck but what caused Fritz the most wonder was that Bert’s attack had pushed the carved beast sideways. Diverting its charge by a whole inch which, considering the bull's titanic weight, was a monstrous feat.

Normally one inch wouldn't matter, but in a fight, one inch could be the difference between life and death. Bert proved this point as the horns scraped Sid, screeching and leaving a long scratch down the side of her breastplate instead of impaling her on the spot. She was still flung off her feet from the impact, but recovered quickly, turning her fall into a roll that brought her back up into a staggered stance.

The bull couldn’t stop its movement in time, all the momentum it had built up from its charge sent it barrelling into the wall at terrible speed. Fritz expected a huge crash and for the behemoth to be knocked back reeling from the collision, but instead, to Fritz’s complete horror the bull plunged, no dived, into the green glass disappearing from view and leaving only the undamaged glass where it had passed through.

The translucent wall bent and pulsed outwards in a great circle, like a still pond rippling from being disturbed by a dropped stone. The stalactite spears quivered and some were knocked loose, hurtling towards the ground, stabbing and sticking there like sharp green fence posts. Fritz and his team managed to dodge all the falling spikes, only by a hair in Bert’s case, and then they looked around for any sign of the bull.

The chamber was still rumbling as if the bull was continuing its brutal rush somewhere out of sight.

“Plan two?” Bert asked.