Shadowcroft Academy For Dungeons: Year Two, page 14
Roy Boy charged forward with shield in hand, keeping his thorax low to the ground. Time for Logan to pull out his secret weapon...
Chapter Fourteen
“Keep my guardian form safe, Noodle Doodle,” he said before sending his consciousness into the overgrown centipede floor boss. This was the ace up his sleeve. His Symbiosis ability. Both his minions and Inga’s had previously been infected with Braincap mushrooms. Those green fungal growths would allow Logan to effortlessly take direct control of any infected minion. He would also be able to directly use any of the abilities they happened to have. More than that, though, he could also tap into a few of his guardian form abilities as well.
Aside from allowing Logan to co-opt infected hosts, the Braincaps also offered the infected minion a wide variety of positive abilities. Like Fungal Replication, Fungal Vision, Poison Immunity, and even a few low-level spore abilities. Right now, he could only unleash Pollinic Affliction, but that was still something. Using the ability felt a little like cheating, but the folks at Shadowcroft Academy weren’t really concerned with cheating so long as it worked. Besides, he wasn’t technically using his guardian form to do the fighting, and as Inga said, technically correct was the best kind of correct.
The world swam, and suddenly he was no longer Logan in the body of a Shroomian Acolyte, he was Roy Boy. Moving the centipede’s legs in unison was a tricky bit of business, but he and Logan had worked long hours to get it right. He slithered forward on a hundred confident legs, the rough stone floor sending minute tremors racing up his many appendages. Unlike the lesser centipedes, Roy Boy had decent eyesight, further enhanced by Logan’s Fungal Vision. But the creature also “saw” through the vibrations carrying through the floor—they painted a vivid picture.
He raised his shield and spear and braced himself as the wave of ghosts hit his and Inga’s fighting lines. The waddlers weren’t exactly formidable, but they held the line like champions.
Platinum daggers slid off chitin, both fungal and insectile.
Centipede legs lashed out, jabbing into temporarily vulnerable bodies. Inga swept her remaining flies into the flank of the dagger ghosts, who were vulnerable as they attacked. Thorns rammed into skulls, dropping elf ghosts.
Noodle Doodle stayed back, protecting Logan’s guardian form, but the rest of his Spore Wargs attacked with reckless abandon, tearing into arms, ripping off chunks of spectral flesh. One Spore Warg had his head cleaved off by Miss Elven Freddy Kruger. It was high time Logan put an end to her. He charged forward with a roar, bringing the spear screaming around in a wide arc. Blade-fingers danced back, eyes flashing wide in surprise at the ferocity of the attack. Logan executed a series of jabs, slashes, and thrusts, all the while trying to maneuver her into a corner where he’d be able to pin her down.
But she was fast, effortlessly dodging his attacks while launching a fresh wave of her own. Knife-bladed fingers skittered off his shield, leaving shallow scratches in the chitin. He spun the spear and circled left while mentally directing a pair of nearby waddlers to close in on the right—attempting to hem the floor boss in. The waddlers broke from the formation and charged; their undulating war cries filled the air as they raised their gnarled cudgels. They never stood a chance against ol’ Knife Fingers, but they did momentarily distract her. Logan took advantage of the lapse in concentration and darted inside her guard, thrusting the spear directly into her chest. Skewering her like a shish kabob.
The enemy floor boss howled and reared back, groping at her chest with one hand. Logan chose that moment to blast her full in the face with Pollinic Affliction. At lower levels, the ability had done little more than cause runny noses and red eyes, but since he’d advanced to Iron Trunk cultivator, the spore ability had some teeth. Now it could cause debilitating shortness of breath while also having a five percent chance of causing blindness, a three percent chance of inflicting anaphylactic shock, and a one percent chance of triggering mortal sneezing.
Sadly, there was no instant death by sneezing, but thanks to the spear plunged through her lungs, Knife Fingers suddenly seemed to be struggling to breathe. Her eyes were wide, and she pulled in long, rasping wheezes. She sounded like someone who’d smoked two packs a day for fifty years. Roy Boy was down a weapon, but Logan made do with what he had, laying into her with the centipede’s shield. He swung back and drove the edge of the circular disk into her throat. Meanwhile, the waddlers swamped her legs—each clinging to an ankle like a manic toddler.
Unable to keep her balance, the floor boss toppled. Her hands flailed wildly but ineffectually. The waddlers scampered on top of her, laying in with their cudgels. Beating her to death in fungaloid glee. It was actually a pretty impressive feat of teamwork, if Logan did say so himself.
Behind him, the last of the mine carts clattered off into the darkness, clearing the way forward. Logan raised a golden fist high into the air and called for a tactical retreat before pulling his consciousness back from the centurion centipede. The world swam once more as Logan’s perspective shifted, and he found himself back in his own body, sitting on top of Noodle Doodle.
“Let’s move!” he yelled, spurring the good pupper into motion. Logan and Inga continued their race to the sanctum, and they’d only lost three Spike Flies, four giant centipedes, four waddlers, and one normal Spore Warg. They certainly hadn’t walked away unscathed, but it wasn’t a massacre. Plus, Logan was pretty pleased that they’d managed to keep both their floor bosses alive—
The thought died before it had even fully formed. A spectral green arrow came streaking out of the darkness, punching through Roy Boy’s skull like a piston. His segmented legs went limp as one, and he pitched onto his side, dead before he hit the floor. Another arrow ended the last of the normal wargs. Logan glanced back and saw Lady Elesiel lowering a long bow crafted from yellowed bone.
“No one kills my floor boss,” she shrieked, her face a thunderhead of fury. Logan didn’t know much about Chad’s girlfriend, but clearly she must’ve spent her summer break watching The Hunger Games because she sure was Katniss Everdeening the holy hell out of their team.
Logan hesitated for only a moment before turning Noodle Doodle around. He didn’t have many minions left, and there was no way his few remaining waddlers would ever escape from Lady Elesiel and her incoming forces. This was a minion challenge, and he needed them to survive. So, he dropped low against Noodle’s back—giving himself the lowest possible profile—and shot toward his troops. Noodle skittered to a stop, and the stumpy mushroom men scampered onto the warg behind Logan.
That poor mushroom pup was badly weighed down by all the bodies. Nevertheless, he wasn’t a quitter—just like Logan. He spun and raced after Inga and her bugs, down another sloping shaft, his lupine legs working in overdrive to compensate for the added weight.
Within minutes, Noodle started huffing and puffing. He was as tough and loyal as they came, but he had physical limitations and he wasn’t going to last long unless they did something different.
Inga found a solution. “Logan! There’s a mine cart doing a turnaround on a track up ahead. We can ride it down to the sanctum. As long as we hit the switches, we should be able to adjust the movements. We must stay ahead of Lady Elesiel at all costs!”
More arrows clattered around them—these coming both from the Lady herself and the merry, undead cheer squad. Losing Roy Boy was rough, since Elesiel still had two of her floor bosses, including the head cheerleader and the gilded skeleton. They really couldn’t afford another fight.
With a leap, Noodle carried Logan’s waddlers to a rusted-out mine cart. The waddlers climbed into the cart while the giant centipedes clung to the sides with their many legs.
“Alright,” Logan called, throwing a switch jutting from the cart’s interior, “let’s see what this bad boy can do.”
Loaded down, the cart went screaming down the tracks with Inga and her last three flies soaring ahead. A front headlamp cut the darkness with a bright yellow beam, revealing rails that ran over seemingly endless chasms while other tracks arched gracefully through the air overhead.
Inga was there to hit the switches, guiding them through the maze-like mine shafts of the dungeon. They slammed around a corner, went over a trestle crossing an icy abyss, and zoomed through room after room and gallery after gallery. They were easily going to make it into the inner sanctum before Lady Elesiel.
Logan was feeling confident until he glanced back over his shoulder. A pair of golden carts were racing behind them at a frightful speed. He caught the glint of the sigil skeletons crowded together in one cart, a clown-car of bony bodies piled high and clinging together as they rode the tracks. Lady Elesiel and her undead mean girls were in the other cart, racing closely behind.
The lone remaining dagger ghost streaked ahead of the twin carts, hitting any switches that had snapped back into place.
In moments, a barrage of arrows started falling, clattering against the stone walls and coming dangerously close to taking out Noodle and Logan. This was a dangerous game they were playing at. If Logan fell and shattered his core, he’d be as dead as Ed. He couldn’t let that happen, nor could he survive an enchanted arrow. Reluctantly, he called one of his Skullcap Waddlers to rise. The creature braced itself against the sides of the cart with pudgy arms. More arrows fell, sinking into the waddler’s fleshy body. Logan used the creature as a bullet catcher, which was brutal but effective.
His minion winced with each arrow, but then smiled. “Save you,” the little guy said.
The cart roared through the last archway and into the inner sanctum, which was the terminus point of a dozen tracks. Mine carts lay scattered about, some rusted hunks of debris, others functional but toppled onto their sides. The pedestal itself was a massive black rock at the center of the room, flecked with gold ore and shot through with veins of diamonds.
Inga flew toward the pedestal, victory in sight—
The dagger ghost whirled into the room like a wrathful specter and drove a sword through Inga’s leg. In an instant, the moth woman was pulled from the air. Both Inga and the dagger ghost hit the ground hard in a tangle of limbs.
Logan whirled to see the cart full of sigil skeletons come crashing into the sanctum directly behind him.
The other cart had switched tracks and rolled into the sanctum from another tunnel. Lady Elesiel floated out as the cart started to slow. The trio of undead cheerleaders drew the strings of their bows back and let fly arrows. Each ended a Spike Fly.
“Waddlers, mount up on the centipedes. Get Princess Scream and her mean girls!” Logan ordered.
“Mount up!” the waddlers echoed.
“You’re with me, Mariah!” Logan shouted.
Mariah was overjoyed. “Yippy ki yay, mother fungal!”
The skullcaps threw themselves onto the centipedes and rode them like skateboards to attack the elven archers as they clamored out of their cart. Centipede mandibles ripped into rotten flesh as Princess Scream and her friends were overwhelmed.
The blonde ghoul opened her mouth wide, ready to unleash a banshee shriek, but an industrious skullcap charged with a warble and smacked her square in the jaw with its cudgel. The cheerleaders weren’t going to survive the mushroom men on their centipede mounts, which was a small victory.
Meanwhile, the Mothmancer wasn’t able to get away from the dagger ghost. Normally, Inga would’ve easily killed the beautiful specter with one of her many guardian form abilities like Chrysalis Swords or Moonlance. With the Negation Bracelets, Inga could fly and order her minions around, but that was the extent of it. She wasn’t a physical powerhouse like Magmarty or even Treacle, for that matter, so without her abilities she didn’t stand much of a chance in a melee brawl. Sure, Inga was doing her best to hold the line, but Logan knew it was only a matter of time before she lost that battle.
Logan had committed their troops to taking out the undead cheerleaders, but that meant Logan and Mariah would have to escape the sigil skeletons.
And speaking of the metallic skeletons, they poured out of the cart and rushed Logan with flails raised and ready to kill. Lady Elesiel wasn’t bothering with combat; instead, she was gliding through the air toward the pedestal. Logan groaned. Of course the lich queen could fly.
Looked like it was going to be a race.
Noodle lurched into motion with Logan and Mariah on his back. His claws bit into the scree covering the floor and found purchase. The three of them bolted toward the pedestal but didn’t make it far. Goldenface produced a golden-and-silver bola from only God knew where and sent it whirling through the air with a flick of its bony wrist. Goldenface’s aim was true, and the weapon wrapped around Noodle’s hind legs. The Warg tumbled, propelling Logan forward, his legs kicking, his arms pinwheeling frantically.
Logan rolled ass over teakettle across the train tracks, hitting both the rails and the ties.
Dazed, Logan looked up.
Noodle Doodle was down but alive—one of his legs twisted beneath it at an unnatural angle—but Mariah had survived the fall and was already back on her feet. She looked terribly confused and unsure. Noodle might have been crippled, but he wasn’t out of the fight. Proving he was a brilliant floor boss, the Warg bayed at Mariah, and the pair leapt into action.
Even with one leg badly injured, the Blistering Death Warg threw himself forward, latching onto Lady Elesiel’s gown and dragging her to the floor. She turned, her hands ripping out the mushrooms in the Spore Warg’s back. Logan grinned. That was the wrong thing to do. Her slim, graceful hands ballooned into pus-filled blisters, and Elesiel must’ve touched her face because her cheeks were soon covered in a red, irritated rash.
Even better, she’d been pierced by one of the spikes adorning Noodle’s back. She flailed about, shrieking in agony, temporarily incapacitated and hating life.
And then Mariah smacked her in the skull with the knobby end of her cudgel. “For the Horde!” the waddler shouted in a high voice. Lady Elesiel’s eyes fluttered and closed, a look of concentration on her face. Her body was out of the game. But her mind and her minions weren’t.
The black-eyed dagger ghost was slicing up Inga but good.
Goldenface and his silver skeletal cousins clattered toward Logan.
Goldenface was faster than his cronies, and far creepier, with those dead eyes etched into the metal mask. He raised his mace.
Logan sped toward the pedestal. If only he could use his Pneumacity ability, he’d have superspeed, but nope, the Negation Bracelet wasn’t going to allow that.
Goldenface’s mace came down, and it would’ve splattered Logan’s head across the train tracks if not for Mariah.
“For Isengard!” The waddler caught the blow with her own cudgel. There was no way she could win. She wouldn’t even stand a chance. But she stood against the floor boss all the same, defiant to the end. She let out one last war cry, “For salt!” while Goldenface trampled her underfoot, the rest of his metallic skeletons following close behind.
It was an odd war cry. Logan didn’t get the reference, but Mariah’s sacrifice had saved Logan a few precious seconds. He waddled faster, but the pedestal still seemed impossibly far. Logan couldn’t outrun the skeletons. He was like an anti-Usain Bolt, with his stumpy legs and rubbery body.
There was still one thing he could try. Sending up a silent prayer, Logan grabbed his core gem and flung it at the pedestal. A terrible risk.
His aim was true, though.
His topaz gemstone came to a stop, floating above the slab of black rock, and Logan felt himself talking over the dungeon. Goldenface and his silver crew surrounded Logan’s guardian form, bashing and hacking at it with their weapons, but that didn’t matter.
He’d already won.
“You certainly have a flair for the dramatic, Murray!” Professor Zantho’s voice echoed around the room. “You win!”
Thanks to his abrupt bond with the dungeon, Logan sensed the Fairy Fetch and the other students waiting in the vast cave up top. They’d watched the whole spectacle.
Lady Elesiel whimpered. “Does anyone have any calamine lotion? I have a bit of a rash.”
Even sliced up and bleeding, Inga laughed.
Logan didn’t have a body at that point, but on a more ethereal level, he found himself chuckling. It seemed the Blister Wart was worse than being stabbed by spikes or smacked with a cudgel.
Chapter Fifteen
That night, Logan headed down the spiral staircase that led to the school’s library—he and his friends had a study session tonight. Originally, they’d planned on an extra training session in the arena, but after what had happened in the Mines of Madness, Logan could hardly walk. It had taken Ned and Zed—the Treegee medics—hours to put his guardian form back together, and Logan still wasn’t one hundred percent. Lady Elesiel’s skeletal minions had definitely gone overboard in their butchery. It seemed they were disgruntled at taking an L to someone like Logan.
He paused on the way down, huffing and puffing thanks to his injuries. He leaned against the handrail and peered at his reflection in the far wall. This was the Stairwell of True Seeing, and it was one of the most unsettling places in all of Arborea—at least as far as Logan was concerned. The mirror didn’t show what was, but rather revealed what had once been. Instead of seeing the yellow body of a Shroomian Acolyte, he saw his old human body. He inspected himself and took a minute to flex his five slender fingers and touch his nose and lips and hair.
That hair business now felt so strange. He hadn’t been human in a year. Not only did he save money on haircuts, but he also didn’t have to worry about styling the cap of rubbery mushroom flesh on his head. And he liked his yellow color. More than that, he had a true purpose in his life now—guard the Tree of Life and bring Apothos energy to Earth to make sure his home planet didn’t wither completely.
