Adamantium Hunt, Part 3 (Cinnis Sarva, Janus, Smith, Avroc Strongman, Tanya Blackstone, The Great Chef, Abbess Lumina)
Death was coming. But Astra Janus could not explain her concerns beyond that hunch, so she kept silent.
The carriage creaked to a halt before the abandoned mine's gaping maw. The doll stepped down first, feet soundless against the gravel. Her glassy eyes reflected the dim light, unblinking, and yet again, an undescribable shiver slithered down her spine.
Fear? Impossible. She knew none. Still, this unknown disrupted her calculations. A presence in the shadows, always lingering in her periphery, teasing the edges of her perception.
"Probabilities remain favorable. Proceed as planned."
Astra Janus obeyed the voice, gliding past the gateless entrance and into the mineshaft. Her hands rose at every lamp along the abandoned mine shaft, channeling her creator's magic, weaving alchemy to replenish the oil, then reversing the Water's Call to relight the fire. Following her, the others spilled from the carriage, filling the cavern with the warmth of life, leaving the abbess behind to tend to their carriage and emergency provisions.
Chef bounded ahead of the pack, daydreaming over culinary adventures.
"And then, garlic and sage... no. Smoked paprika, to complement the iron richness. But how to prepare it?"
"Slow roast," Avroc rumbled, overhearing her. "That's how we did it in Koor after a big hunt. Over volcanic vents, tenderizing the meat with the earth's own heat."
Chef's eyes sparkled and died in under a second. "Aww... but there's no volcanos on Anfitrian..."
Tanya followed silently, her fingers tracing the wraps around her knuckles. Tightening. Testing. The darkness beckoned her, and she could almost see the beast's gaze glinting deeper in the tunnel. Could almost hear the impact of her fists upon its shell.
Smith trudged along, his tiny frame dwarfed by the hammer strapped to his back. "Look at this place," he muttered, kicking a broken pickaxe left on the ground. "Veins thicker than the cyclop's arm, just rotting." His fingers twitched, aching to bend all this into something worthy. But the Adamantoise had claimed this place, and so the ore would remain, untapped, wasted.
For now.
The first tunnel yawned broader and taller, splitting into two jagged passages. One veered left, smelling of damp stone, and the other sloped right, the air nearby shimmering with a faint metallic tang.
Smith frowned, tiny hands planted on his hips as he craned his neck at Astra Janus.
"Well?"
The doll did not answer immediately, her hands hovering above an unlit lamp, gaze flickering to the ceiling.
There, clinging like unripe fruit to a tree's branches, hung a flock of massive vampire bats, leathered wings folded tight, mouths slack. By now, the monsters should have descended in a storm of fangs and hunger. Yet they did not stir. Did not breathe. Something stilled them, dulling their instinct to kill.
Astra Janus' mind reached to the arcane threads that bound her to her creator.
'Permission to investigate.'
"Denied. This is within the parameters of an Adamantoise's rampage in their habitat. Proceed as planned."
Fingers snapped in front of her hollow eyes.
"Are you in there, Dolly?"
"Did the big one forget to wind your gears today?"
Astra Janus blinked, face smooth as untouched parchment. "Right," she said.
Avroc grunted, hefting his weapon and ducking under the right passage to fit his body. Tanya and Smith moved with him until...
"Wait!"
All eyes went to Chef, who knelt in a damp, dark corner, adjusting her pan's strap.
"I'm still foraging here."
Smith muttered something unkind under his breath but waited alongside the others while the undead collected her mushrooms. Soon, the doll shuffled mechanically ahead of the group, filing away the merits of mushroom soup and cyclopean proverbs about patience, yet not once joining in their conversation, simply existing as a compass to the shortest route to their bounty.
The mine's belly tightened around them, walls ribbed with jagged outcrops of ore that glinted dully under the lamplight.
Chef poked at a vein with a gloved hand. "Such a waste. Imagine the utensils you could make with these."
Smith's brows rose to his hairline. "Utensils? That's for armor, you broth-for-brains."
Tanya rolled her eyes, then her shoulders. "No more chit-chat. We're already close."
Avroc merely grunted, his single eye scanning the shadows. Scorch marks blackened the floor in great, sweeping arcs. The stench of sulfur clung to the stale air, thick and acrid. Beneath their feet, the earth trembled faintly, slowly, rhythmically.
The party stilled. Smith's fingers twitched toward his hammer. Tanya's lips curled into something feral.
Then, the beast erupted from the tunnels, a living avalanche of armored flesh and burning rage. Its shell scrapped against the walls, studded with broken spears, sending sparks skittering on the floor. It gaped its jaw, a furnace glowing crimson from deep within.
The worshippers scattered in every direction as the cave was bathed in flames, except for Astra Janus, who temporarily shunted her body into the Astral Realm and missed the heat. That was the reason she was the one dispatched as a guide. To avoid a drawn-out battle that would damage its shell and organs beyond use, targeting its soul directly with the magic granted by her name.
And yet...
"The nest is ruined."
Her creator's voice slithered into her mind, bringing the doll's attention beyond the wyrm, to a nest devoid of eggshells.
"This goes outside my predictions of a disturbed Adamantoise couple. Permission to investigate granted."
As the battle raged around her, the doll's dull eyes met golden orbs alight with the thrill of entertainment.
'I've found the culprit.'
A tyrant who stood at the world's end.
A dragon in the shape of a princess.