“Bee… blets,” Finn said, making an odd face. “Bri-blitz. Bee-bits.”

  Vexa reached out and held Finn’s face in both hands, squishing his cheeks. “BEE-BA-LETS. Beeblets.”

  She released him.

  Finn rubbed his jaw and feigned soreness, glaring at her.

  I rolled my eyes.

  Ah, your first local, Raela’s voice echoed in my head, warm and amused. Help them and they’ll help you… typically.

  Yeah, I replied. They already explained it.

  Right, right… the Captain is just worried about you, is all. You had a rough time on your first island expedition, so it’s only natural. You humans can show such loving care for one another. You can also show such malice. It’s why you are interesting. I—Oops, look at me ramble. Carry on.

  A text box appeared before me:

  Name: Chimelet (Non-hostile)

  Species: Breeblet (Manta Ray)

  Level: 1

  Description: Breeblets are a species of sentient manta ray-like creatures. They scour the Windglass Reefs, eating crystalline dust and remnants of mist. They are tiny and unthreatening, and a primary target for all other hostile creatures of the land.

  The curious creature waited on my shoulder, vibrating gently, its jelly-like body cool against my neck.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Adventurer. Tall Softs. Taste good. Taste like… not know. Never taste like before.”

  “Taste?” That was when I noticed the tiny suction on my neck. I gently swatted Chimelet away. “Stop eating my skin.”

  “Sorry, Tall Soft,” Chimelet said. “Taste better than Small Hard.”

  As if summoned, a small entourage of Breeblets drifted in from behind the nearby crystal clusters, gliding low over the sand and weaving between the windglass weeds. They swirled around Vexa, Finn, and me in a faint chiming cloud. Soon I found a multitude of the little parasites picking dirt, debris, and crystal dust from my skin and clothes.

  “Tasty, tasty,” one clamored.

  “Nom, nom, nom,” another replied.

  “No! No!” Chimelet said, vibrating sharply. “Big Soft no likes. We need help from Big Soft.”

  Just like that, the Breeblets all stopped, hovering just above my skin, little fins fluttering.

  “Hey, wait,” Vexa said, rubbing her forearm. “My skin… it’s so soft now.”

  Finn blinked, then reached out and touched her wrist before she slapped his hand away. “Oy, damn straight it is. That’s fucking nuts.”

  “Fuhh,” Chimelet said. “Fuhh-King?”

  “Don’t teach them that,” Vexa scolded. Then she tilted her head, suddenly thoughtful. “But tell them I wouldn’t mind if they cleaned my feet. A girl works hard; the least she could get is soft feet for the trouble.”

  “Eww,” Finn said, making a face.

  Dragging the conversation back toward sanity, I asked, “Chimelet, you said you need help. What is it?”

  “Help?” Chimelet repeated, then brightened. “Help! Skitters. Help from skitters. They stab-stab. Bite-bite. And Warden. Big mean. Big hard-hard. You stop-stop. Kill. Murder.”

  As if echoing their leader, all the Breeblets chimed in, high pitched, and deeply unsettling.

  “Kill-kill. Murder-murder.”

  Finn smiled, all teeth. “That’s what I like to hear. This Warden sounds like the boss. See? What’d I tell ya’, Vexa? Unaimed violence is always the answer.”

  “Except that time you killed a non-hostile and turned the entire island against us. Remember that?”

  Finn waved her off. “That happened once.”

  “Three times.” Vexa held up three fingers. “Three.”

  Finn blew a raspberry and rolled his eyes.

  “Alright,” I said, “so we just need to kill this Warden fellow. Where are they?”

  “Big-hard,” Chimelet said. “Sleep. Hidden. No go. Kill lessers, yes? Kill three friends. Make Big-hard mad. He wake. Stop hiding. Then kill.”

  The Breeblets chimed again from all around us, their bodies flashing faintly in the reflected light of the spires.

  “Kill… kill…”

  It was creepy.

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “So where do we find these three ‘friends’?”

  “Minibosses,” Vexa corrected.

  “Mini… bosses,” Chimelet echoed. “Chimelet show way. Breeblets wait.”

  A collective vibration of dissatisfaction rippled through the little swarm.

  Chimelet vibrated louder than the rest. “You stay! I go!”

  The humming quieted.

  “Follow Tall Soft,” Chimelet said, circling me once, then drifting off in the opposite direction of the skiff, low over the crystalline sands.

  “Okay, Short-Squishy,” Finn mocked, following after.

  Vexa and I shot him a glare. He shrugged.

  Then we followed.

  ***

  The towering spirals led us through a maze of windglass ridges and arid shelves, where heat shimmered off pale stone, and the air sang softly whenever the wind shifted. The light was strange here; split and bent through the spires into moving bands of color. Even the shadows looked sharper and more deadly.

  Eventually the ground narrowed to the edge of a cliff.

  Below and ahead, cut into the reef, yawned a cave mouth made of crystal and stone.

  “Great,” I said. “More spiders.”

  “Yep,” Finn replied, entirely too cheerful.

  “Danger,” Chimelet said, hovering near the cave mouth. “Me stay. You go.”

  “Of course,” Finn replied sarcastically.

  Vexa nudged him hard with her elbow.

  “I mean, yes, Mr. Local Sir. Don’t mind us, we’ll just be solving all your problems.”

  Chimelet ignored the sarcasm and hummed jubilantly. “Kill. Come back safe. Great rewards for you. Yes?”

  Finn’s eyes lit up. “Great rewards, you say? Now we’re fucking talking.”

  “Fuhh… cock,” Chimelet echoed.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Vexa said—she clapped a hand over her mouth.

  I laughed at both of them despite myself.

  Then I stared into the cave.

  “Well, go on,” Finn said. “You first.”

  I turned to him. “Why me? I’m the only one who’s gotten bitten by spiders so far. You go.”

  “No, you.”

  Finn tried to shove me in.

  I shoved him back, twisting, so he was closer to the entrance.

  We struggled, boots skidding in the sand.

  “Move,” Vexa snapped as she shouldered past both of us and marched headlong into the cave.

  Finn looked at me, offended. “Are we… are we cowards?”

  “Yes,” Vexa called, her voice already echoing from within.

  “Cow-ards. Cow-ards,” Chimelet chanted from outside in delighted little chimes.

  I steeled myself and went in second.

  Finn called out, “Hey, wait—”

  Too late.

  I expected darkness.

  The cave was anything but.

  The first chamber opened into a glittering maze of natural corridors, the walls veined with windglass pillars that spiraled through the rock, holding the cavern open. Light poured in from cracks above and refracted through the glass, flooding the tunnels in pale blues and sharp white slashes. Overhead, thousands of threads shimmered in the light, crisscrossing the ceiling in dense layers like woven silk.

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  We caught up with Vexa, who had stopped dead to stare at something.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “A mirror,” she replied.

  She reached out and touched it. Solid.

  Looking past her, I saw more. Hundreds. Thousands. Tall sheets of reflective glass rose from floor to ceiling, angled and layered into a twisting labyrinth. Every step showed us in triplicate. Every turn reflected another turn. The cave seemed to go on forever.

  “A maze of mirrors,” Vexa murmured.

  I stepped to one side and saw my own reflection.

  For a moment, I didn’t recognize myself.

  I had seen myself before: in a shop window, in puddles after rain, and in warped scraps of metal. I had always looked too skinny. Too dirty. Hollow-eyed. A street rat in every sense.

  But now… now I looked stronger. Cleaner. My shoulders were broader than I remembered. There was color in my face. Even standing there in a spider cave with dried blood on my pants, I looked less like prey.

  Less than a week off the streets had made that much of a difference?

  “What are you doing?” Finn asked. “Ogling yourself?”

  I smiled despite the knot in my stomach. “Nah,” I said, pointing forward. “Just wondering how we’re going to get through.”

  Finn snorted. “The easy way, of course.” He stepped in front of one mirror and touched his own reflection. “Quite the handsome devil, this one.”

  Vexa scoffed.

  Finn grinned and flicked out a knife. It flashed in the refracted light, and then blood coiled from his hand, thickening, hardening into the shape of a mallet.

  He swung.

  A loud clattering crack rang through the cave like a bell.

  Vexa slapped both hands over her ears. “What are you doing, you idiot—”

  Too late.

  Finn swung again.

  And again.

  And again.

  Over and over, he smashed each mirror in our way, shards exploding across the floor. He carved a path deeper into the maze through sheer, stubborn destruction.

  Vexa and I exchanged a look and followed.

  We didn’t have to wait long before Finn’s recklessness caused trouble.

  At first, it was just a sound above us. Faint. Distant.

  Then it became skittering.

  Closer and closer.

  Thousands of tiny feet moving across silk overhead.

  Finn seemed to hear nothing at all as he bash, bash, bashed another mirror apart.

  “Finn,” I said, nudging him, unable to take my eyes off the ceiling where shadows of legs began to gather and shift between the threads.

  Finn kept bashing.

  I coughed. “Finn,” I said more forcefully.

  Bash.

  Bash.

  Bash.

  “Finn, you fucking arsehole,” Vexa snapped. “Look up!”

  Up.

  Up…

  Up……

  Her voice trailed off down the winding corridors, and the spiders answered.

  “Look what you did,” Finn said.

  “I swear if we live I’ll fucking kill you—”

  I saw movement drop from above and shoved Vexa just as a spiderling landed where she had been.

  A box flashed before my vision:

  Name: Windglass Spiderling

  Species: Spider

  Level: 1

  Description: Keeping to caves, unlike its larger cousin the Windglass Skitter, these spiderlings have neither poison nor serrated fangs, but instead bombard their victims with sheer numbers alone, heeding the call of the brood-one.

  Hundreds of spiderlings descended from the ceiling now, dropping on threads, falling in clumps, and skittering over mirror shards and walls alike.

  My hands became Claws of the Cockatrice, and I started hacking at anything that came close. XP Cores fell like rain, tiny glittering beads bouncing off broken glass. But there were too many. Far too many. Every one I tore, each that Vexa crushed, or Finn smashed, seemed to be replaced by three more.

  “Get close!” Finn shouted.

  Before I knew what he meant, he and Vexa slammed into me from both sides, dragging me down into a crouch.

  A flash of his knife. A flick of his wrist.

  Blood burst from the cut and arched over us, hardening into a dome-like shield. Spiderlings hit it in waves, screeching and scratching as they tried to chew through.

  Inside the shield, the air was hot and damp and smelled strongly of iron. Finn was already sweating hard, jaw clenched, his breath coming fast.

  “Great, Vexa, now what do we do?” he grunted.

  “I just hope you get torn apart first,” Vexa replied. “Then at least I’ll get to savor it before I die.”

  “Oh, come on, Vexa,” Finn said, clearly straining. “Ugh… alright, no more joking. I could really use some help here.”

  An idea struck me.

  “What is that ability you have, Vexa? The one where you just touch them?”

  She glanced at me, and then a familiar window flashed on my screen:

  Ground Slam (Lvl 2): Brawler Echo Core — Slam the ground with a blunt weapon or fist to create fissures. Can be linked with elemental Echoes for various effects. Additional fissures from the increased level.

  “Can you control the fissures?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “Circle us,” I said, “then send fissures out in all directions. Finn, when I say, drop the shield and help pry the ground up. After that—Vexa, flip it.”

  “It’s a stupid idea,” she said, “but we have nothing else.”

  She reached down and tapped the cave floor. A line split in the stone with a crack, and the ground trembled beneath us. A circle opened under our feet, then jagged lines shot outward from it.

  “Alright,” I said, heart hammering. “Three… two…”

  One.

  Finn dropped the shield.

  In an instant his blood reshaped, hardening into pipe-like braces shoved beneath the cracked edges. Finn and I pushed down with everything we had, levering the slab up just enough.

  Spiderlings swarmed us immediately, biting at my arms, face, and neck. I felt tiny fangs, sharp little stabs, and then felt warm blood start to bead and run.

  Vexa crouched, grabbed both sides of the split earth, and roared as she pulled.

  The entire slab flipped.

  Spiderlings went flying. Those caught beneath it were crushed with a wet splat as the stone slammed back down. Blood and guts burst from under the slab’s edge in blue-green smears, and the survivors came at us in even greater frenzy.

  I slashed wildly with my claws. Vexa stomped and smashed them underfoot. Finn remade his mallet and hammered them in red, messy arcs.

  Still too many.

  Then came a roar; more like a thousand tiny roars woven into one. It shook the cave's foundations. Colors flashed and spiraled up the windglass columns, and the whole chamber hummed in response.

  The spiderlings stopped.

  Then, all at once, they retreated, skittering up the spires and disappearing into the thread-webbed heights.

  Skitter… thump.

  Skitter… thump.

  “I’m thinking that’s the momma,” Finn said, breathing hard.

  A giant shadow loomed over us, and my breath caught.

  Unlike the skitters and spiderlings, this creature was massive. Eight legs, each refracting light like cut diamond, spread across the ceiling with impossible grace. Every hair on its body glittered like glass filament and looked sharp enough to slice skin on contact. Dozens of faceted eyes watched us from above, throwing fractured reflections of our own faces back at us.

  Then it released its grip.

  For a heartbeat, it hung from a single strand. It swung, let go, and landed in front of us with a booming impact, mirror shards jumping at its feet. It let out a shrieking skitter that rattled my teeth.

  “You guys pissed it off,” Finn said.

  Vexa didn’t answer. Sweat ran down her face. Her shoulders were tense.

  A box flashed before me:

  Name: Prismjaw Broodmother (Mini-boss)

  Species: Spider

  Threat Level: Yellow

  Level: 5

  Description: The mother of all the spiders on the Glassblown Reefs. Its mandibles are so strong that they are capable of crushing rock, stone, and diamond. It doesn’t bother with poison or bleeding… it doesn’t need to. Even its kin are afraid, for the creature is ravenously hungry. It does not sleep. Does not rest. It only consumes.

  “Any plans?” I asked.

  “Nah,” Finn said, raising his blood weapon. “This one is just a good old brawl.”

  “You’re still level 1,” Vexa warned me. “Stay back and let us handle it.”

  Finn and Vexa charged.

  The creature screamed.

  The battle began.

  At first, they seemed to have the advantage. Finn was versatile with his blood, forming weapons and shields on the fly; a blade here, a hammer there. Whatever the moment needed. Vexa moved as if she’d been born for this kind of fight, timing her Ground Slam taps to batter aside the Broodmother’s heavier strikes and ruin its footing whenever it tried to lunge.

  But as I watched, I saw the cracks.

  Finn slowed. Not much at first. A hitch in the shoulder. A beat too long, reshaping his weapon. More sweat. Less chatter. Was he running out of blood?

  Vexa was still fighting hard, but even she was getting pushed back. Every impact jarred her arms. Every near miss forced her to spend more ground, boots grinding across shattered mirror and spider gore.

  They were holding.

  They were not winning.

  Slowly, steadily, the Broodmother gained the upper hand.

  Its body was strangely translucent in places. Through its armored plates, I could see a pulsing blue heart deep in its center, pumping fluid through its limbs. It was horrible and mesmerizing.

  Then the Broodmother struck hard.

  Two legs slammed into Finn and Vexa at once, throwing them into each other. They hit the ground in a tangle. The Broodmother dropped, mandibles opening wide to crush them. Finn raised a shield at the last possible moment.

  The shield sparked as the fangs hit.

  I could see red specks spraying from it.

  Blood.

  The shield was breaking.

  I looked down at my claws.

  Claws of the Cockatrice.

  Level be damned. I wasn’t going to stand there and watch them die.

  Then I saw it.

  A crack in the armor near the creature’s chest. Vexa must have hit it with a Ground Slam earlier. Through the split, I glimpsed movement. Flesh. Blue pulse.

  I ran.

  Finn’s shield shattered.

  The Broodmother lunged again with killing intent.

  I leaped over them, claws out, and caught the crack in its armor. I dug in and pulled. The Broodmother screeched, veering off as my weight and grip yanked it sideways. Its bite missed Finn and Vexa by inches.

  I kept pulling.

  Glass-sharp hairs sliced my arms and chest. I felt micro-cuts opening everywhere, stinging, burning. I didn’t care.

  I tore at the cracked plate with both claws, peeling it back bit by bit while the creature thrashed. My hands shook from the strain. My shoulders screamed. I kept going.

  Eventually, the carapace split open wide enough to expose the fleshy blue heart beneath.

  The Broodmother flung me off.

  I flew back and smashed into the base of a windglass spire. Pain exploded across my back and skull. My vision swam. I forced my eyes open.

  The Broodmother loomed over me.

  Its mandibles spread wide, fangs dripping.

  I stared death in the face and waited.

  Then the Broodmother’s body jerked.

  Collapsed.

  My gaze dropped.

  Vexa stood there with her fist buried in the beast’s body, cracks webbing through its remaining armor as if her strike had shattered something from the inside out. To my left, Finn held a blood shield over me… only me. It covered my body and left him completely exposed.

  He had been willing to take the hit if Vexa hadn’t made it in time.

  The Broodmother sagged and went still.

  For a long moment, the only sounds were our breathing and the faint hum of the windglass pillars.

  I let out a long, drawn sigh. “Think we can take a breather?” I asked.