Heather the Necromancer

Heather peaked from behind a large rock watching as the man in red stared into the temple. The dragon crouched on the temple roof, watching from above as if waiting for something to happen.

“So, what do we do?” Quinny asked.

“We run,” Breanne suggested.

The goblins began to squawk and point to the temple forcing Quinny to shush them as Heather tried to think.

“Why would the dragon be helping him?” she asked.

“Because he's a dragon knight,” Frank replied. “They get a baby dragon at level three, and it grows as they level up.”

“That dragon isn’t level three,” Quinny said. “It’s as big as an elephant.”

“Bigger,” Brenne said with worry in her voice. “And a fire no less. It will kill us all in one breath.”

Heather ducked behind the rock and considered the options. The village was already burned, and the goblins killed or scattered. Was it wiser to retreat and simply let the village respawn? Or should they try and fight this dragon knight and his dragon? What good would they do to die here when none of it really mattered?

On the other hand, what harm would it do to try? She would respawn in the tower, and the others would respawn in the graveyard where she buried their stones. None of them had anything to lose if the fight went badly. Still, the thought of dying made her skin crawl. Frank and Quinny seemed to care a lot less about it, but she hadn't died even once. She was still afraid of the process as if she wouldn't be the same person next time around.

A roar made her jump and peek over the rock. The dragon was there, perched on the temple, but the man was gone. She watched for a minute, and the man appeared in the broken doorway, clutching a goblin by its neck. He carried the thrashing creature out and held it high as if showing it to the dragon. It was here that Heather got a good look at the goblin as her mouth fell open, it was Umtha.

“He’s got Umtha,” Heather gasped, causing Frank to look around the edge of the rock.

“What is he doing to her?” he asked.

Heather didn't know. The man seemed to be shaking her in the air before the dragon, but not much else.

“Maybe he’s going to feed her to the dragon,” Quinny suggested.

“That would explain why there were no bodies in the village,” Breanne pointed out.

“We can't let him do that to her,” Heather gasped.

“What choice do we have?” Frank replied. “That dragon is big, which means they are both high level.”

“Probably fifteen,” Quinny said.

“More like low twenties,” Breanne interjected. “The two of them are more than a match for us.”

“We have to try,” Heather said. “Umtha came to rescue me and fought Moon’s whole town. I can’t turn my back on her.” She felt panic rising as the man jerked the goblin woman down and held her before his face.

“Where is she?” he demanded in a voice that sounded hollow. “Where is the necromancer that protects your village?”

Heather felt a wave of shock roll through her system as it all came clear. Of course, the dragon knight was looking for her, why else would he be tormenting goblins that were no match for him. He probably arrived in the village and demanded they reveal her. Umtha then sent goblins to get her and stalled for time. The village was probably burned to try and force her to show herself.

“I will ask you one last time,” the dragon knight shouted. “Where is the necromancer?”

“I’m right here!” Heather shouted as she climbed up on the rock, her undead already charging down the narrow path.

The dragon knights head jerked to the side to reveal green glowing eyes inside a metal helm. He threw the goblin aside, raising his sword as the dragon spread its wings to take to the air. Skeletal arms burst from the stone around the dragon, grabbing at its legs and tail. It let out a howl of anger and started biting at the limbs as even more of them burst out.

“Keep that thing on the ground!” Frank cried as he ran after her skeletons. Glowing arrows raced across the sky as Breanne used her magical bow to pelt the struggling dragon at long range. Quinny called on her zombie pack and ran after Frank, adding her undead to the mob bearing down on the dragon knight. The goblins followed Quinny, howling as they charged in with crude swords.

The knight's sword began to glow green as he walked casually to meet the charge. His eyes focused on the nearest skeletons as he raised the wicked blade. As it came down, a large skeleton in rusting plate armor rushed forward, raising a towering shield to catch the blow. The two squared off for a second, pressing against one another as her bone knight defied him.

“Cut his head off!” Heather yelled before pulling a length of bone from her pouch. She pointed it at the dragon and began casting rotting bolts as fast as she could, aiding Breanne in dealing with the beast.

“Keep your focus on the dragon, you and I are the only ones with ranged attacks,” Breanne cried.

Heather saw a leg break free of her grasping arms and quickly cast the spell again, desperate to keep the dragon grounded.

The bone knight and dragon knight traded blows for only a moment before a horde of skeletons, zombies, and even a ghoul bore down on him.

“You pests!” the dragon knight growled in an unearthly voice. A red aura of light formed around his feet then exploded outward, blasting the skeletons and zombies away. The bone knight huddled behind its shield, and Frank dug his claws into the stone to brace himself. Quinny tumbled away, annoyed but unhurt, ending in a pile with the three goblins.

A brilliant light filled the air as the dragon grew tired of the game and used it's breath to bath the ground around it in fire. The bones of her spell burned and charred, becoming brittle and breaking. She tried to cast it again, but the beast leaped into the air, beating its wings as it took flight.

“What now?” Heather asked as Webster crawled up the rock to join her.

“Keep firing,” Breanne insisted. “We have to drive it away.”

She nodded, focusing her gaze on the dragon that flew in a graceful loop before turning and coming right at her.

“Ummmm.”

“Pick up the spider!” Breanne shouted.

Heather acted on instinct, grabbing Webster and clutching him to her chest. The dragon raced in, mouth open, with flames rolling about its teeth. A brilliant light filled the air, and her face became warm as ghostly hands grabbed her shoulders, yanking her back and into the stone of the hillside.

Her world was pitch black and deathly cold as a sensation of drowning overwhelmed her. She struggled to swim to safety, but her arms and legs barely moved as if swimming in tar. Then the world was back, and she lurched forward gasping for air as Breanne released her.

To her left was the rock covered in smoke and flames, the air shimmering with heat as it rose skyward. The dragon was flying away, slowly banking to turn about and make another pass.

“We can’t hope to match that thing,” Breanne said. “Our attacks are doing too little damage.”

“I can use a bigger spell,” Heather choked as if trying to expel water from her lungs.

“I am sorry I had to do that,” Breanne said. “Passing you through a wall or door is easy, holding you inside a rock for ten seconds is much harder.”

Heather struggled to her feet to see the dragon night, and her bone knight still trading blows. Frank leaped on his back, trying to tackle him down, but the man's armor burst into flames causing Frank to leap off again.

“Goodness!” Heather cried at the display of power.

“He’s higher than we thought if he can do that,” Breanne said. “His dragon is probably immune to lower level spells.”

“I should have stayed hidden, but I couldn't stand by and watch him hurt Umtha,” Heather said, her breath finally normalizing.

“You did what you thought was right instead of calculating the odds like a game,” Breanne said. “A normal player would have shrugged and let the goblins die and respawn. I don't begrudge you for your decision, but I have no idea what to do now.”

Heather looked around her eyes, falling on the temple and made a decision.

“The dragon can't fit in the temple. We should move the fight in there.”

“And how do we get passed the burning warrior?” Breanne asked.

Heather smiled, and her hands went out wide. “Like this.”

A mist began to crawl out of the cracks and crevices, forming a rolling fog on the ground. Is pooled around legs and climbed upward, shrouding the combatants in mist.

“How did you do that?” Breanne asked as the battlefield was hidden from the dragon's sight by a thick cloud.

“I got an upgraded version on the haunting mist spell. I can cast it anywhere now, but it has a small radius if its cast outside a graveyard. Now the dragon can’t attack us because he can’t see us.”

She jumped and danced forward as a pillar of fire blasted through the fog just ten feet behind her.

“Well, it can't see us at any rate, but that won't stop it from breathing,” Breanne said with a smirk.

“This isn't funny,” Heather panted as she clutched Webster to her chest. “Let's get the others and run into the temple.” Breanne nodded, and they ran down the path their undead sight, allowing them to see through the mist. The others were busy avoiding the sword of the dragon knight, unwilling to attack him while he was on fire.

“Into the temple!” Heather yelled as she ran up.

“Come and face me yourself!” the Dragon knight shouted. “You can’t hide behind your minions forever.”

“Sorry I have other plans,” Heather replied and cast a grave blight right where he was standing as Frank helped Quinny up. She smiled at her handiwork until it dawned on her; it wasn't working. The dragon knight peered through the mist that glowed with orange light from his fire but didn't seem at all bothered by her blight.

“Why isn’t that working?” she asked as Frank ran up to her.

“He is probably immune to disease,” he said. “And fire, and a bunch of other things.”

“That’s cheating!” Heather yelled and then remembered her bone knight. She looked up to see it and five skeletons still charging at the burning warrior as he easily smashed one of the weaker skeletons. “All of you into the temple!” Heather shouted. The undead broke away, running for the steps, following her as she ran through the broken doorway.

Inside was a large chamber with a high ceiling that went up to a curved dome. The walls were cut into pillars between which were alcoves with nothing in them. The room itself was rather narrow but went deeply into the hill. At the far end was a statue of white marble that rose to the ceiling. It was carved to resemble a woman in a flowing robe holding a sword up high with a clawed hand while cradling a book in the other arm. A pair of bat-like wings protruded from her back, and horns rose from her head to form two sharp curving points. Her face had an angry expression with sharp features and emotionless eyes. Heather assumed it was because it was a statue, but something made her feel that this was the intended effect. One leg was lifted, the foot resting on a human skull as if a trophy from battle.

“What is this?” Heather asked as she put Webster down.

“I doubt we will have time to find out,” Breanne said.

“Why did you tell us to run in here?” Frank asked.

Heather turned away from the statue with a confused look. “I thought we would be safe from the dragon in here.”

“But now were trapped,” he replied.

Heather turned round and round, looking for an exit but saw nothing. Her mind couldn't believe there was nowhere to go, and then she noticed the three goblins.

“Umtha!” Heather cried. “She must be in here someplace.”

“I saw her run back in when he cast her aside,” Quinny said.

“Then where is she?” Heather asked, looking around again. There were a dozen dead goblin guards scattered about indicating there had been one last battle inside.

“Necromancer!” a voice boomed. “Come and face your judgment.”

“He isn’t coming in?” Quinny asked.

Frank looked back to the doorway and shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t want to face all of us without his dragon.”

“He is still a match for all of us. Even without the dragon,” Breanne said.

“We need to find Umtha,” Heather insisted.

“Why?” Frank asked.

“She obviously knows a way out,” Heather suggested.

“If she does, she has long since used it,” he replied. “All we have are the three goblins that came to get us.”

Heather smacked her head and turned to the three goblins who looked even more panicked than before. She squatted down before them to look into their eyes. “We saw Umtha run in here, where is she?”

“Door,” one of the goblins said, making Heather smile.

“Where is the door?” she asked.

The goblin pointed to the last alcove between the pillars, and she shook her head. “Of course.”

“There’s nothing there,” Frank said.

“It’s must be like your lair,” Heather said as she raced to the wall.

“A secret door,” Frank agreed. “Hidden between the pillars like mine.”

“Yes, but how do we open it?” she stammered frantically.

“Necromancer! You will come out, or I will burn this village to the ground again and again. Your goblins will suffer for sheltering you and keeping what is mine from me.”

“I think he means it,” Quinny said as she watched the door.

Heather pushed on every stone or shape that looked odd on the wall hoping one of them was a button, but nothing happened. Frank searched one of the pillars, while Breanne searched the other, hoping to find the trigger.

“If we don't find a way to open it soon, I will try walking through the wall. Maybe I can open it from the other side,” Breanne said as one of the goblins walked over and simply knocked on the wall. A second later, it slid away, revealing a wide torch-lit tunnel on the other side. A taller goblin with a spiked club looked out into the room and then said something in goblin. The smaller goblin replied, and then the larger one waved motioning them in.

Heather and others raced through the open door into the hall beyond. She made them wait for Webster and her skeletons before shutting it, sealing them inside.

“Now what?” Quinny asked as she looked around. “This place looks like a tomb.”

“It does look like a tomb,” Frank said as he ran a hand along a rough brick wall. “I think I have an option to make brickwork like this.”

“But whose tomb is it?” Heather asked.

“Maybe that woman outside?” Quinny offered.

“The statue?” Breanne replied.

Quinny shrugged and wandered into the hall as the goblins moved ahead, waving for them to follow.

“If this was player made, then the player still has to be alive right?” Heather asked as they began to follow.

“I would say yes, but the tower in the forest is still there, and its owner is very much dead,” Frank said.

“Could it be generated by the world?”

Frank looked around and shrugged. “I guess it could be; the world does generate dungeons and ruins.”

“Maybe we should focus on what to do next,” Breanne said.

Heather nodded and turned to one of the goblins. “Where is Umtha?”

The goblin pointed down the hall before trotting off to lead the way.

As they walked, they passed small side chambers with a stone sarcophagus in them. In some places, the walls had nooks, many of which seemed to contain mummified bodies. There were occasional piles of pones heaped into corners and in others stacks of skulls.

“You should make your tombs like this,” Quinny said as she nudged Frank.

“This is a lot of points spent on decorations,” he replied. “If a player made this, they must be a very high level.”

“How high can players get?” Heather asked.

“Nobody knows. I heard there were players in the low eighties when I join.”

“King Kevin is supposed to be over a hundred,” Breanne added. “Some of his chief paladins are in the eighties, or were at the time of the war.”

The goblins led them to an intersection and motioned them to the left. The tunnel ran down a shallow ramp arriving at a ledge overlooking a natural cave full of rough goblin architecture. A large hut stood along the back wall, it's entranced framed by two large burning torches, and Umtha stood before the entrance addressing a mass of thirty or so goblins standing before her.

“They have a hidden underground village,” Quinny said.

“It won't be hidden for long,” Frank said. “That dragon knight will come looking for us sooner or later.”

The three goblins hurried down steep stone steps that took them from the ledge to the cave floor. Goblins took note as they arrived, pointing and barking in their indecipherable language. They parted to allow Heather and her group to approach the hut and a very battered Umtha.

“Heather, come,” Umtha said with arms thrown wide. “Heather, save goblins.”

“Should we tell them we ran away?” Quinny whispered.

“Quiet,” Breanne whispered back.

Heather walked up to the goblin woman who wore a dark yellow dress with rough flowers painted on it. She smiled to think of how much the goblin tried to dress like she did, avoiding wearing what one would expect of her. She reached out a hand and drew on her flower singer powers, touching Umtha with a pulsing heal. Umtha rubbed her arm where Heather touched her, the bruises already fading away.

“Umtha, why did the dragon knight attack you?” Heather asked.

Umtha scratched at one of her pointed ears and shuffled a foot as if thinking back to the day before was laborious.

“Him want dragon. Him say you have dragon, and goblin have you.”

“What? That's ridiculous. I don't have a dragon,” Heather replied.

“Him know you have dragon. Him say magic tell him so.”

Heather glanced to the others to see a wall of shrugs and blank faces.

“So he isn’t after the reward, he’s after a dragon?” she stammered. “But I don’t have a dragon, and how did he know I would come here if he attacked the village? Who knows I have any connection to the goblins but Moon?”

“Maybe he works for Moon,” Frank suggested.

“Then he would be here for me and the bounty,” Heather argued. “None of this makes any sense.”

There was a dull banging sound that made the goblins go silent as dust and stones fell from the ceiling.

“I think we made him mad,” Quinny said.

“He’s going to tear the hill down around our heads,” Breanne added.

“What am I supposed to do here?” Heather asked. “He thinks I have something I don’t. Is this stupid green stone a dragon egg or something?” she asked as she pulled the gremlin stone from her pocket.

“Ohhhh!” Umtha shouted and pointed a the stone in Heather's hand. The goblins behind them began to clatter and hoot with fingers pointed her way. Heather turned around with the stone visible in her hand, and they goblins made such a ruckus she had to cover her ears.

“What are they so excited about?” she tried to yell over the noise.

“Something to do with the stone,” Frank said. “It must mean something to them.”

“I am getting tired of things happening around me and not knowing why,” she shouted back. “Something about all of this is wrong like it was planned.”

“Maybe your the chosen one,” Quinny laughed.

“That isn’t funny,” Heather yelled back.

“Why? The chosen one always has plot armor. You could probably beat that dragon knight with the power of friendship or something,” Quinny said with a wide smile.

“Stone! Stone!” Umtha began to shout. “Heather has first key!”

“Key?” she repeated with a raised brow. “This is like a bad fanfic.”

“Read many of those, have you?” Quinny asked. “Or maybe you write them?”

“I do not!” Heather snapped. “I read a couple of vampire ones.”

“I bet it was the one they made that movie out of,” Breanne added.

“Oh, the shades of gray one,” Quinny said with a smile.

Heather's face flushed red, and her foot started to tap in irritation as they made fun of her while the goblins continued to hoot around them.

“Maybe we should ask Umtha what the key is for?” Frank suggested.

Heather raised her scythe and slammed the butt end on the ground, causing an echoing clap. The noise silenced the goblins, and she frowned over them before turning to Umtha. With the stone held out, she looked at the goblin woman and asked her directly.

“This is the key to what?”

“Come!” Umtha said. “Come, door this way!”

The goblin queen hopped off the ledge and made her way to a tunnel that led deeper into the hill. Heather and the others followed her into the dark tunnel, the goblin almost gleefully dancing as she walked.

“Why do I feel like my life is out of control again?” Heather remarked.

“Because things keep happening that you can’t control,” Frank said. “Something about all this does feel planned.”

“Planned for what?”

He scratched at his head as they rounded a bend in the tunnel, looking as lost as she was. “I don't know, maybe it's just coincidence, but you getting that stone days before you need it seems too lucky.”

“What if the goblins are wrong,” Quinny said. “Maybe that’s not the stone they think it is.”

“Not to mention that if all gremlins drop stones like that, they won't be unique,” Breanne said.

Heather turned the stone over in her hand, unsure what was happening. Maybe they were right, and Umtha had made a mistake, or maybe it was a common stone whatever the case, Maybe Frank was also right. Why did the stone come to her right before she would need it?

Umtha turned down a towering side tunnel and led them a short distance to a smooth stone wall. A circular door was cut into the wall, etched with carving that resembled the statue above only the woman no longer had horns; instead, she held a helm in her hands. It was a band of metal with two horns that jutted up to sharp points.

“Its the woman from above,” Heather said as Umtha ran forward and pointed to the helm shouting, “Key!”

“It’s just a carving,” Breanne said.

“It looks like a door to me,” Quinny said.

“Another door we can’ t open,” Frank said.

“I doubt knocking will work this time,” Breanne sighed. “I will go through.”

“No, key!” Umtha shouted again and pointed to the engraving of the crown.

“What does she want me to do?” Heather asked as she got closer and looked where Umtha was pointing. Her undead sight made the stone look flat and uninteresting, but as she focused, she saw the indentation. Right on the front of the engrave crown was a deeper spot as if something was meant to go there. She looked at the stone in her hand and pushed it into place, and suddenly the crown was gone.

“Whoah!” Quinny cried. “What did you do?”

Heather stumbled back the stone still in her hand, but the image had changed. The woman now wore the crown, looking more like a demoness of some kind. Her eyes were blank and her face had such a stern look it made Heather’s skin crawl.

“Open, open!” Umtha cried, “Hathlisora has come!”

There was grinding noise as dust fell from the walls and ceiling and red runes began to glow around the circle of the door. They all stepped back as the door cracked, and began to fall inward, then tore away in large chunks revealing a void of blackness beyond.

“I want to go back to the graveyard,” Heather said as the void flashed with distant lightning.

“What is going on?” Quinny asked.

“I think this is a pocket dimension,” Frank said. “I read about how high-level wizards could make them.”

“Why would anybody make something like this?” Heather yelled as the sound of a roaring storm echoed from beyond the black portal.

“They use them to hide things of great importance, or as secure locations to practice dangerous spells.”

“Why is one here?” Heather asked.

“And why did it need a gremlin stone to open it?” Breanne asked.

“I have no idea,” Frank said. “This is all crazy.”

“Go!” Umtha urged. “Heather must go in!”

“Not on your life,” Heather yelled, shaking her head. “I would rather face the dragon.”

“Yes, dragon, you must go in!” Umtha said.

“I will go first,” Frank said and walked to the portal. The lightning flashed, and for a moment, he could see a path of dark stone beyond the portal. With nothing to lose, he stepped forward and was suddenly thrown back, sliding across the floor into the bone knight.

“What happened?” Heather asked.

Frank shook his head as Breanne reached down to help him up. He looked wobbly on his legs for a second as he held his head with one hand.

“It’s protected,” he said. “Ghouls can’t go in.”contemporary romance

Quinny looked at the portal and reached out a hand to touch the surface only to be blown back as well.

“It looks like the undead can’t go in,” Breanne said. “A very interesting choice of restriction.”

“Heather, go,” Umtha insisted, not tugging on her arm.

“I don’t like this,” Heather said with a shake of her head. “What if that portal closes while I am on the other side?”

“You would be trapped,” Breanne said. “With no way of returning.”

“I bet there's a huge monster guarding the inside,” Quinny added.

“You're not helping!” Heather shouted.

Frank walked up and gazed through the portal, keeping sure not to touch it. He leaned to the side to look around as much as he could and let out a sigh.

“None of us can enter it but you. I doubt it will close while somebody is inside it. I think I read that was a rule about these places.”

“You think?” Heather stammered.

“I wasn't going to be a wizard, so I didn't read up on their stuff. This world is too big, with too many variations for anybody to read it all. Not to mention most of it comes from the terminals outside with people gleaning only the tiniest bit of information.”

“So there is no way to be sure,” she said with a nod of her head.

“None,” he replied somberly.

“Why am I doing this again?” she asked. “Because I just happened to have the key?”

“You came to the aid of the goblins, hid in their temple, and brought the key,” Frank said. “Your right, this seems planned, but whoever planned it obviously meant for you to do it.”

“Unless it blocks humans from entering too,” Quinny shouted, causing Breanne to swat the back of her head. “What? Maybe it only lets dwarves in or something?”

Heather rolled her eyes and looked back to the portal and the void beyond. The sound of a raging storm filling her ears as she clutched the green stone. Her fear clawed at her as she gazed through the portal. She hated how much of this world was uncertain and unknown. If she was going to live here, she was going to do it boldly and fearlessly. She marched forward fully prepared to be hurled back and stepped right through the shadowy opening.

For a moment, she was confused and had to look around to get her bearings. A storm raged someplace, but from where she stood, it sounded miles away. She couldn't fee so much as a gentle breeze as if standing in a room with no windows or doors. Behind her, the portal was a shimmering mirror reflecting her image back. Try as she might she couldn't see through it to the other side and wasn't even sure it would go back. The ground under her feet was black rock, smooth as glass, and slightly reflective. Small chips and pebbles of it lay about in places, but otherwise, there was nothing more to see. The sky above was black and empty of stars creating the feeling of nothing. Around her, the black glass formed a small island floating in the same inky blackness, a small army of glass maybe three meters wide stretched away from the island. Her gaze followed the arm to see it connected to another small lump of glass floating in the nothingness.

“This is crazy, Heather,” she said as she approached the narrow arm. “Why didn't you send the goblins away?” She paused at the entrance to the glass path and looked over the edge. Deep below was a swirling storm of reds and oranges like a hurricane of fire. It seemed to be millions of miles away as is slowly swirled around a white center. The sense of distance and the thought of falling made her stomach churn and caused her to step away dizzy.

“Why are you doing this?” she scolded. “Why didn’t you pick the golden sprite and be done with it?” She jumped when something touched her leg and looked down to see Webster.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. The spider waved its front legs in the air in reply, and she took a calming breath, grateful not to be alone anymore. “At least somebody will know what happened to me when I die.”

With a nervous step, she crawled out into the path of glass. There was plenty of room to either side, but that gave her little comfort as she made her way across. Her mind never stopped scolding herself for what she was doing. She was more or less doing this because she was here and able to do it. Yes, the dragon knight was too strong, and the goblins were in danger, but was that really her fight? Why couldn't she see them as NPC's like everybody else and not care?

Her thoughts were broken when she looked ahead to see the island wasn't featureless. There was a raised platform that went up three steps. Spires of jagged glass formed a wall around half the platform; at its center was a kneeling form chiseled from the same glass.

“Why would anybody make a place like this?” she asked as she approached the steps. Her eyes came to focus on the kneeling black form and the silver crown that rested on its head. She realized it was the crown from the statue and carving only this time it was metal. As she got closer, she could see it had the same empty socket as the carving had. Her eyes glanced at the stone in her hand as she nervously turned it over.

“What do I have to lose?” she asked before reaching out, putting the stone in place. It popped into the socket as if magnetic producing a shrill tone that echoed in the empty space somehow. Below a great peel of thunder roared and rumbled for half a minute as she waited for something else to happen.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” she said. “The statue didn't even come to life.”

Webster crawled up beside her, waving his legs in the air as she heard him in her mind.

“I’m not putting it on,” she flatly refused. “Who knows what that thing might do.”

The spider made a hissing squeak, and she folded her arms, crossing the scythe over her shoulder.

“No, you put it on if you're so sure.” The squeaking continued, and he tapped at the hem of her dress with a furry leg. She let out an exasperated sigh and tossed her head. “Fine, I will pick it up and carry it back, but one of the others can try it,” she said.

Carefully she reached out with a hand and gently pulled the crown away. She expected something terrible to happen the moment it moved, but nothing changed.

“Again, anticlimactic,” she repeated and turned the crown over in her head. The band on the side was thin and unusually low with small bends on either side. The very back had a narrow bit that bent down in a gentle curl. It was only at the front that the metal widened right before it met the stone. The horns were attached to the thin metal band at the back of the head so that they rose behind it.

“Who made this silly thing?” she asked as she turned away. No sooner had she had taken a step away than she heard a cracking sound. She and Webster turned about to see the statue crack and then spit as if falling apart. She watched entranced for a second until the platform around it also cracked, fissures radiating out and around her feet.

“Time to go!” she shouted and ran for the narrow bridge.

Cracking noises rose all around her as she ran for the bridge that linked the two islands. A great fissure opened up on her right, and fragments of glass began to fall into its spreading maw. Her feet reached the bridge as cracks started to form across it.

“Hurry, Webster! She shouted and dashed on to the bridge. The ground beneath her feet heaved, and from behind came a tremendous noise like the grinding of a thousand glass bottles. She turned about to see the bridge breaking away into tiny shards that fell into the void below. Webster ran for the crumbling ledge but was trapped on the other side. As her heart began to fill with panic, the spider suddenly leaped, clearing the distance and practically tackling her.

“Jumping spider,” Heather mused as she struggled to hold, him, the scythe and the crown. Her footing was uneven as the ground below her feet cracked even more. The platform felt like it was moving now, and she stumbled forward, desperate to cross the span.

Webster tried to crawl around as she struggled to clutch him with one arm. She stumbled, tripping on the scythe and falling to one knee, the crown slipping from her grasp and sliding to an edge of splintering glass.

“No!” she cried and scrambled to get to it as the glass fell away. She watched in horror as the crown tipped over the edge and tumbled down. She dived for the side swinging her scythe and caught the tumbling crown over the blade. As the glass beneath her began to shift, she carefully pulled the scythe up careful not to drop the prize.

There was a great crack as she pulled the crown to safety. Heather looked up from where she knelt and saw the bridge beyond had fallen away, creating a ten-meter span between her and the next segment.

“Were trapped!” she cried in alarm. Her mind worked frantically to solve the problem, and she suddenly wished she had wings like the woman in the statue. Below her hands, the ground cracked, causing her to jump to her feet. Her little chunk of glass was disintegrating around her, and there was nowhere to run.

Webster clung to her body as she leaned on the scythe for support. The glass fragment she stood on began to pitch to one side as it crumbled away. She slid to one knee, nearly dropping the crown again in the process. In frustration of trying to hold the spider and the items, she did the only thing that made sense and put the crown on her head.

The last of the glass beneath her feet fell away, and she screamed as the firestorm below beckoned. Her eyes turned to the ledge she couldn't reach, stretching a hand out as if to grab it. The air filled with green light, and suddenly she was on the glass again.`

“What?” she cried and spun around to see she had somehow crossed the gap to the other side. This glass here was crumbling as well, however, and there was no time to waste. Clutching Webster with one arm, she ran down the path, pieces of it breaking away beneath her feet. Ahead of her was another great crack as a huge section of the bridge broke away. She cried out in frustration reaching for the far side in vain as green light once again surrounded her. In a flash, she was across standing on the distant island, the portal just ten meters away.

Her mind didn't waste time to think of an answer and ran for the portal as the island began to disintegrate. The surface of the portal rippled like water as she ran the last few steps, the ground shaking beneath her feet. She nearly crashed into Frank as she spilled out of the portal back into the crypts below the hills.

She lay on her hands and knees, panting as Webster crawled out from beneath her.

“What happened?” Breanne asked in alarm. “When you went through, we couldn't see anything.”

Heather sat up her breath still ragged as the gathered three stepped away from her.

“What’s wrong?”

“She has horns like the statue,” Quinny said.

“Are her eyes glowing?” Frank asked.

“Her skin is pale, and her lips are blue,” Breanne said.

“What are you three talking about?” Heather demanded as she stood. She looked from her three friends to the Goblin Queen, who bowed before her pressing her face to the floor and crying out loudly.

“Hathlisora returns!”

done.co