“Shit, shit, shit!” I screamed as I leapt to the side, propelled by the special ability of my Nikes.

  I hadn’t timed it quite right.

  I slammed hard against the cliff edge instead, shoulder-first, loose stone biting into my skin. The trench wall was slick in places where wind-polished glass had fused to rock, and jagged in others where broken spines of crystal jutted out like tiny spiked fins. Pain burst down my arm.

  Finn had made a shield of blood and raised it just as the creature lunged to swallow him. Crystal clashed against hardened blood, sending out red sparks that hissed in the dry air. The sound rang unnaturally loud down the trench, bouncing from cliff to cliff like a struck bell.

  A box flashed before my eyes:

  Name: Choirspine Sentinel

  Species: Centipede

  Threat Level: Yellow

  Level: 5

  Description: You’ve really done it now. The Choirspine hates any noise that is not its own. Its legs are many, its tolerance is few. Covered with hardened crystals, complete with a crystalline mandible, it is nearly unmatched among other creatures of the Windblown Spires. It has fin-like crystals running the length of its carapace that hum, building static electricity that arcs between nearby crystal structures.

  I could feel it in the air; that pressure, that humming. It thrummed through the trench like a tuning fork, vibrating faintly in my teeth and skull. My hair stood on end as the static built. Even the crystal formations around us seemed to answer the creature’s presence, humming along as if the whole reef wanted to sing with it.

  I slid down the cliff face just as an arc of lightning struck the spot I had just vacated. It exploded against the rock in a burst of white-blue light, spraying shattered crystal. For a second the air tasted like burnt metal. Tiny shards rained down, pinging off stone and skittering into cracks.

  Below, Finn and Vexa were still engaged with the centipede. Dust swirled around their boots with each impact. The trench floor was a mix of brittle slate and glass-sand, littered with broken crystal fins and skeletal clusters that grew like weeds near the base of the spires. Every time the Choirspine moved, its legs clicked against that terrain. Diamond on diamond, like a hundred knives skittering on top of a plate.

  Rested from a proper night’s sleep and actually fed, Finn wielded his blood in quick succession, changing its form so fast I could barely track it. One moment it was a spear. The next a hooked blade. Then a shield again, red and glossy and alive. His blood steamed faintly when the static snapped too close, rising in wisps that looked like smoke.

  Vexa had started breaking the ground beneath the centipede.

  Smart.

  Its sharp, many-clawed legs expected solid footing, but instead found fractured slate and sudden fissures opening beneath them. Her Ground Slam sent spiderweb cracks radiating outward, splitting the trench floor into shifting plates. The Choirspine screamed as one leg dropped into a crack. Vexa rushed forward, planting a brutal kick into the trapped limb.

  Crunch.

  The leg snapped off and fell twitching into the fissure, blue fluid seeping into the dirt.

  The centipede retaliated instantly, swinging its massive body sideways. The impact caught Vexa and slammed her into the cliff edge hard enough to shake dust loose from above. Loose crystal clusters rattled, and a thin curtain of glass-sand poured down the rock face behind her. It bore down on her, mandibles spreading to snap her in half.

  Finn was there just in time, laughing as he drove a blood-spear into one of its eyes. The weapon punched deep, and the creature veered right with a shriek of static and fury, gouging trenches into the ground.

  I forced myself upright, blinking dirt and debris from my eyes.

  I was off to the side now, half-hidden by shadows. The creature paid me no attention at all; it was too focused on the noise and movement in front of it.

  I knelt, gathered myself, and jumped with all my might. The Nikes hurled me onto the centipede’s back.

  I hit, rolled, and nearly lost my grip immediately. The thing’s carapace was slick and hard, made of smooth armor plates threaded with glassy ridges. It felt like polished bone beneath my fingers. I slid off the side, but managed to catch one of the fin-like crystals rising from its back.

  It sliced open my palm and forearm with a nasty gash.

  I ignored it and hauled myself back up, my fingers slipping in my own blood. The wind up here, trapped between cliff walls, whipped hot and dry dirt into my face, carrying that humming vibration and the scent of shattered glass.

  The Choirspine thrashed violently, its body coiling and bucking, and small arcs of lightning snapped between the fins lining its back. They crawled over the crystal like living veins, leaping from fin to fin. It was almost as if the electrical energy powered the thing, making it faster.

  No, making it move at all.

  My hands became Claws of the Cockatrice.

  Using the claws, I slashed at the finned crystals.

  My strikes bounced off effortlessly, the impact ringing through my wrists. I struck again. harder this time, feeling the vibration travel up my arms.

  Unfazed, I struck at the base; at the creature’s carapace where the fin met the armor itself. Sparks flew brightly, but the shell was too hard. My claws couldn’t penetrate it. A bitter thought crossed my mind that if the Echo Core had been a higher level, maybe I could have cdone something.

  That thought didn’t matter.

  Right now, I couldn’t do much.

  But then an idea took shape.

  “Vexa!” I screamed, clinging tighter as the centipede finally noticed me and bucked hard enough to nearly throw me free. “Throw me its leg!”

  I caught her bewildered look for half a second before the world lurched.

  The creature slammed its body against the cliff wall. Rock and broken crystal cascaded down around me. Most missed, crashing to the trench floor with brittle, chiming clatters.

  One smaller stone didn’t.

  It struck me on the side of the head. My grip loosened. Blood poured from the new cut. My vision blurred and doubled, the world tilted. I slid, scrabbling with one hand, and barely managed to catch another fin before I fell.

  Through the haze, I saw Vexa again.

  She was standing atop a red platform; one of Finn’s blood constructs, broad and flat beneath her boots like a floating slab. In her hands she held the snapped-off crystal leg like a spear.

  Then she threw it.

  It slammed into the Choirspine’s back mere inches from me, punching through the armor with a wet crack, and burying itself deep. Blue blood sprayed all over me. It got in my mouth and eyes. I ignored the sting and the vile metallic taste as the creature’s scream tore down the trench.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  The electrical currents running along its back echoed its pain, arcing wildly in all directions. One bolt hit me square in the chest.

  For a moment, I ceased to exist as anything. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My muscles locked. My teeth clenched so hard I thought they’d crack. The smell of death filled my nose, and the hum became a deafening, internal roar.

  But I held on.

  I still held on.

  Down below, Finn and Vexa were moving, shouting, waving, taunting the thing to follow them. I couldn’t hear the words over the ringing in my ears, but I understood the shape of what they were doing.

  They were buying me time.

  I forced myself upright.

  Using my claws, I wrenched the spear-like leg free from the creature’s back. More blood ran from the wound, spattering my boots and the crystal ridges. For one stupid moment I considered trying to stab deeper, to burrow my way through. Then I considered the centipede’s size. Its long body stretched down the trench, coils overlapping like a living bridge.

  No, that wound was barely more than a thorn to something this massive.

  I had a better idea.

  Taking a page from Finn’s book, I turned toward the nearest crystalline fin, gripped my new weapon awkwardly in both clawed hands, and brought it down.

  Smash.

  Smash.

  Smash.

  The fin cracked, and a surge of static leapt into the air, snapping loud enough to make my ears pop. Dust and glittering fragments rained down like tiny falling stars.

  As I’d guessed, the leg-spike was harder than the fins. Each blow chipped, and then broke one of the humming crystal sails along its back. With every shattered fin, a burst of static leapt into the air, and the creature’s shriek deepened into something else. Fear The humming faltered, stuttering now, less a song and more a lulling instrument.

  The Choirspine noticed me again, but it was too late.

  It ran headlong into a pit trap Vexa had made with a well placed Ground Slam, crashing down in a spray of dirt and crystal. The impact shook the trench, sending loose fragments clattering from above. I lost my balance and slammed hard into another fin, bounced off, and rolled down its side.

  A fresh cut opened along my leg, slicing straight through my pants. Warm blood ran into my boot.

  I ignored it.

  I got back up and swung again.

  With each broken fin, I could feel the creature weakening. Its arcs lost strength. Its movements became less coordinated. Its legs scrabbling against broken plates of stone and glass-sand. Every shattered crystal drew another howl and another lurch, but I did not relent until the final fin burst open, sending one last electrical current screaming into the sky.

  Then the mini-boss simply… stopped.

  It stood there for a heartbeat longer, legs twitching slightly. Its mandibles clicked once.

  Then it slumped.

  No final breath. No dramatic shudder. It was alive one instant and utterly still the next.

  The trench went quiet. No hum. No static. Just our breathing and the faint settling of dust.

  I climbed my way down the centipede’s body. When my feet hit the dirt, my wounded leg gave out, and I collapsed to one knee. The ground felt unsteady beneath me.

  Finn and Vexa rushed to me.

  Luckily, neither of them looked much worse for wear; bruised, bleeding a little, but upright.

  “You kicked its ass,” Finn said, clapping me on the back. “’Bout time you did something. I was tired of carrying your worthless ass around.”

  I smiled despite myself and shoved his hand away. “Shut up.”

  “Hate to interrupt your little romance,” Vexa said, “but remember—nightfall! We don’t want to keep the captain waiting.” She handed me a small vial of red liquid. “Oh, and good job, by the way.”

  I stared at the vial, and a box appeared:

  Item: Healing Potion (Small)

  Description: The smallest healing potion available. “What did you want me to do, huh? You bring me these shitty materials and you expect me to make pure gold? Take what you can get.” — Selka, Alchemist of the Skycutter.

  “What in the clouds?” I asked.

  “Forget the description,” Vexa said. “It’s just Selka being Selka. Drink it. And, uh… hold your nose.”

  I uncorked the vial.

  The smell hit me instantly: decay and rot.

  Why did a healing potion smell like death itself?

  Still, I trusted Vexa. Holding my nose, I downed the entire thing.

  It tasted exactly how it smelled.

  I had to force myself not to vomit as it burned its way through me. The stuff felt alive on the way down. But it did as promised. My wounds tightened and sealed… mostly. When I looked down at myself, the cuts were no longer open. They had scabbed over, the skin stretched raw and tight. They would leave marks. Nasty ones.

  “You should see Dragus for some true healing when we get back,” Vexa suggested.

  I waved her away. “I think I’d rather have the scars.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Finn said, helping me up.

  “Suit yourself,” Vexa replied.

  Finn thumbed his nose. “Well then, since you killed the thing, you can loot the chest. Fair’s fair.”

  “I killed the spider, and you looted the chest,” Vexa said.

  “Aye, but you and I have an understanding between us, you see.”

  “And that is?”

  “That you do the hard work and I reap the rewards. It’s in our contract. A handshake agreement, of course.”

  Vexa rolled her eyes and stalked off to inspect the centipede corpse for anything useful. As she went, she started collecting the loose Echo Cores and XP Cores scattered all over the trench, glinting among blood, dust, and broken crystal.

  I stepped toward the chest.

  It was small like the last one, its surface silver and faintly reflective. Finn hovered over my shoulder practically bouncing with excitement, his breath visible for a second in the static-chilled air.

  “Do you mind?” I asked.

  He muttered a half-hearted apology and took one step back.

  I knelt and opened the chest.

  Inside was a small knife; more like a letter opener than a weapon. Its blade was blue and crystalline, just like the Choirspine’s fins had been. It buzzed softly in my hand, and if I stared closely enough, I could see tiny arcs of electricity snapping along its edge now and then.

  “Why did you find something cool?” Finn said. “All I got was some shitty string.”

  “I got a bell,” Vexa called, walking back toward us. Apparently she’d slipped away and looted the other mini-boss’s chest while we were distracted.

  Finn’s jaw dropped. “I forgot about that. And not fair! You didn’t kill it!”

  “And you didn’t kill the spider,” Vexa replied. “Fair’s fair… right?”

  Finn crossed his arms like a child in the middle of a tantrum and began murmuring to himself.

  “Ignore him,” Vexa said. “He’ll bounce back in a second. He always does.”

  “Wow-wow,” Chimelet said, appearing on my shoulder with a happy buzz. “You killed Long Hard.”

  Finn burst out laughing. “Chimelet said, Long Hard. Do you know what else is long and hard—”

  Vexa stomped on his foot.

  Finn screamed and hopped on one leg while clutching the other.

  “Now, you were saying, Chimelet?” Vexa asked sweetly.

  “You could have broken my damn foot!” Finn cried.

  Vexa didn’t even look at him. “But I didn’t, and you’re lucky for it. Now shush before I send you to time out.”

  “The Tall Softs killed the three,” Chimelet said, ignoring the rest. “Take their totems. Put together. Big One wakes.”

  “Big one?” I asked. “Bigger than that thing?” I pointed at the dead centipede stretched across half the trench.

  “Much-much,” Chimelet replied, chiming and circling in what looked like a little dance of joy. “Big One. Long Arms. Hungry. So hungry. Eat Breeblets. Kill-kill.”

  “Killing is what we do,” Finn said, suddenly serious. “Let’s find the boss of the island and send ’em home.”

  Vexa looked sadly at Chimelet. She’d taken a shine to the little Breeblets, and I couldn’t blame her. They were cute in their own odd way; annoying, yes, and with no sense at all for personal space, but still.

  Then something Chimelet had said clicked into place in my head.

  “Take the totems and combine them,” I murmured, mostly to myself. Then I snapped my fingers. “Hey. You two—give me those items you found. The silk and the bell.”

  Vexa handed over the bell at once.

  Finn took more convincing. Eventually, with enough promises of bigger rewards to come, he reluctantly surrendered the glowing thread.

  Sure enough, it worked exactly as I’d thought.

  I fed the end of the thread through the loop of the crystalline bell, and before I could even knot it, the thread twisted on its own and tied itself into place. The bell gave a soft, glassy chime that echoed down the trench, and for a second I thought I felt the reef answer it.

  I tried to cut the thread with my teeth first.

  Nothing.

  Then with one cockatrice claw.

  Still nothing.

  Finally, I took the small crystal knife and drew it across the silk. It sliced through like a blade through warm butter.

  “There,” I said, holding up the crystalline bell now strung on the see-through silk. It chimed softly in the dry air. “Chimelet, now what?”

  “Follow-follow,” Chimelet said. “One more to go. We go now, yes?”

  I looked at the others.

  Vexa nodded.

  Finn smirked, already recovered from his sulk.

  I turned back to Chimelet. “Yes-yes.”