“Mom?”

  The bitter cold had turned into warmth, and the dark cavern a brightly lit kitchen.

  “It's okay, Jeremy,” Mom smiled at him. “You look like you're freezing. I'll fix you some hot chocolate.”

  “I was in this horrible dungeon... Andrew pushed me.” The smell of hot chocolate was so strong it made his mouth water.

  “You're here now,” Mom said. “That's what matters.”

  “But... but how did I get here?”

  “Shhhh,” Mom wrapped her arms around him. “It's okay. Everything is okay. You must be hungry. Let me fix you something to eat.”

  “Please, I'm so hungry, I'll eat anything.”

  “Jeremy, wake up!”

  Jeremy was dimly aware of someone shouting.

  Where was Flint? And Squeak? Why did his chest hurt?

  “Squeak?”

  He woke up screaming.

  The dim light from the glowing moss and lichen revealed he was wrapped in the transparent, icy coils of a serpent-like dragon.

  Barely able to move, Jeremy squirmed and reached for his sword, grabbing the hilt and fighting to pull it out.

  Before he succeeded, the dragon's coils slid away, releasing their hold on him. He drew his sword and slashed at the dragon, his sword cutting into the ice dragon as if its skin were rock.

  The dragon hissed as it backed away. Words appeared in his mind.

  Idiot!

  It... no, she, the ice dragon felt like a she, retreated deeper into the cavern. I offered you the gift of a peaceful death. Do you know how rare a peaceful death is in a dungeon?

  The burning ice in his chest from Arky's blessing warred with the brutal cold of his surroundings. “Why don't you come back here and I'll give you a peaceful death!”

  “I am not the one you must fight, little adventurer,” she hissed. “There is nothing of value in this cave. The treasure you seek is directly ahead.”

  The ice dragon vanished, and the cave became warmer. Still shivering uncontrollably, he looked around, but it appeared the dragon was right. There was nothing here. He walked forward, leaving the cave and entering a tunnel that grew warmer and warmer as he walked down it. Eventually, it opened into a vast, brightly lit cavern, so large its walls faded in the distance.

  He stood on a ledge at least 100 feet above the cavern floor. It was good that he was so high because the floor was molten lava that stank of sulfur as it bubbled and spat, sending small bits of lava high into the air. The heat would have been unbearable pre-dungeon, but with his elemental resistance, it was merely uncomfortable. To his right was a crumbling bridge made up of massive floating boulders, each hundreds of feet tall and thousands of feet long, floating high in the air, twisting and winding its way up and up and up—thousands of feet—before ending on the other side of the cavern. The floating bridge was broken, leaving wide gaps with nothing but lava far below, making it difficult, if not impossible, to cross.

  When he looked up past the end of the bridge, far in the distance, he saw a large treasure chest, and a smug-looking dragon curled up next to it. The dragon resembled the ice dragon, the same size and shape, but appeared to be made of fire. Near the dragon was a doorway, presumably an exit. As far as Jeremy could tell, it was the only exit to the vast cavern.

  The broken stone bridge leading to the fire dragon, and the treasure had five wide gaps he'd have to cross. With his superior strength and speed, he might be able to jump them if the gaps were level, but the edge of the gap he'd be jumping from was many feet below the one ahead of it. If he jumped, he'd end up smacking into the smooth rock face below the bridge and falling to his death in the molten lava.

  “The stone bridge will light on fire as soon as you step onto it, Jeremy,” Banxi said, appearing next to him. “And the lava will rise. Do you see why I tried to talk you out of this? Many have died attempting to claim our treasure.”

  “So the gift of the dragon queen is up there.” Jeremy pointed.

  “Yes.”

  “What is the gift of the dragon queen?” Jeremy asked.

  “I can't tell you,” Banxi replied, “and I'm not supposed to do this either, but I will.” He produced a treasure chest and set it down beside Jeremy. “A consolation prize. Open it.”

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  Jeremy did. What was inside was so beautiful, all he could do was stare. It was green and orange, a scaly skin that looked like fire and water had blended flawlessly, creating something better than either. He held it up. Soft and weightless, it flowed through his hands, glowing with an inner light. He tried Identify, but all he got was Charmed Object. Underneath the skin was another medallion, like the one he'd thrown away.

  “Skin from an Onyx Dragon, made into legendary-grade armor by a high-level craftsman,” Banxi said. “It will give you bonuses in speed and Sneak, and protection from both fire and ice. It's yours if you use the medallion and leave.”

  “I see,” Jeremy said. “What's the catch? What am I giving up by taking this armor?” The dungeon was trying to manipulate him. But to what purpose?

  “All I can say is the treasure on the other side of this cavern isn't worth dying for.”

  “That's nice.” Jeremy put the armor back in the chest, picked it up, and tossed it over the edge into the molten lava. It tumbled end over end as it fell.

  Banxi snapped his fingers, and the chest vanished long before it touched the lava below. He sighed. “I tried. You have four dungeon days to prepare; after that, the lava will rise, eventually filling the cavern, regardless of your actions. Good fortune be with you. You will need it.”

  Banxi vanished.

  “Got rid of that loser,” Jeremy grumbled.

  “If it weren't a complete waste of my time, I'd tell you how insanely stupid you're being,” Flint said.

  “Squeak!” Squeak agreed.

  “Don't worry about a thing. I've got a plan... The beginnings of a plan, anyway... I think...”

  ***

  The next four days were a flurry of activity for Jeremy. His mind went over everything that might go wrong and what to do if it did. He used his never-ending water bottle to thoroughly soak everything he owned. Squeak lacked the strength to carry him, but could do many useful things and was well aware of its importance. Flint was less reliable, only able to move things if Jeremy was sufficiently agitated, but like Squeak, he'd do what he could, even if it was for his own selfish reasons.

  “Thanks to you, I have no choice,” Flint grumbled.

  Jeremy tried to rest up and get some sleep before the climb, but was far too keyed up. “What do you suppose the dragon's gift is?”

  “I'm afraid I have no idea, Jeremy,” Flint responded. “However, it's impossible to imagine a gift from an ancient dragon queen wouldn't be impressive.”

  “But impressive in what way?”

  “That I couldn't say.”

  Jeremy would be lying if he said he wasn't terrified. But he'd gone too far to back out now, and if the dragon's gift wasn't worth risking his life for, he didn't know what was. He put his spare points into Endurance and Vitality, knowing he would need both Attributes. Hoping it would be enough.

  On the fourth and final day, Jeremy put on his pack and bag of holding, keeping them beneath his dungeon cloak and bear-skin cloak, both soaked with water. It was a heavy load, but he expected the fire to evaporate the water, making it lighter. He extended his charmed spear as far as it would reach and tied his unending water bottle to his chest, so the open top pointed down, pouring water onto his cloak and clothing.

  “You know what to do, Squeak.”

  “Squeak!” His familiar covered his body like another pair of clothes. It had some ability to absorb heat and flame. The last thing he did was cast Divine Fury. It was easier to cast this time. Perhaps his understanding of magic had increased.

  Jeremy held his long, charmed spear at his shoulder like a javelin, took a deep breath, and charged up the bridge.

  Flames burst from the bridge as soon as he stepped onto it. There was a hiss of steam as fire touched his soaked shoes, leggings, and cloak. Flames combined with smoke and sulfur, so he could barely breathe. When he made it to the first gap, he braced the butt of the spear on his side of the bridge and let the point end drop until it hit the other side of the gap, a few feet below the bridge.

  He ran across the spear, tightrope style, acutely aware that the molten lava below was already halfway to his original ledge. He jumped to the next section and retrieved his spear. First gap complete. He ran up the second section of the bridge. He smelled smoke. His drying bearskin cloak caught fire. He noticed the lava was approaching the ledge where he'd spent the last four days. He braced the spear and dropped it. This time, the spear point reached the other much higher side of the bridge, at least fifteen feet below the bridge deck. As he ran across, he heard a distant boom. Molten lava sprayed nearby, droplets hitting his spear with a hiss. He flung himself in a desperate jump, latching his fingers onto the edge of the third section of the bridge. Pulling himself up, he threw down the charmed rope, using it to grab his spear and pull it up.

  He forced himself to run faster, as his legs burned and blistered from the flames. His bear cloak was burning up, so he tossed it away, dimly aware of it sliding off the bridge and falling into the lava.

  He wondered if he'd made a big mistake and should have done what Banxi had suggested back on the third floor, and left the dungeon. He pushed such thoughts from his mind, dismissing them as weakness.

  By the time he reached the third gap, he was gasping for air, his legs and body burnt and blistered by the heat. The spear barely made it across the gap, with the spear tip hitting the stone face, twenty feet below the bridge. The molten lava was rising faster. More booms as pockets of lava exploded beneath him. Particles of lava hissed and popped. Some hit his spear, causing it to creak and crack as Jeremy ran across, his agility allowing him to keep his footing on an increasingly unstable spear without thinking. He crossed the gap and jumped, using his charmed rope to pull himself to the top of the bridge. As he reached the top, there was a loud Boom! Lava exploded beneath him. A chunk hit his leg and another his hip, the chunks of molten rock going through his burning clothes. He screamed, pulling himself up onto the bridge with his right hand, smelling burnt flesh.

  He wanted to collapse on the bridge and lie there, but that wasn't an option. He used the rope to grab his damaged spear, took his last gold healing potion, and kept going. The healing potion fought the flames to keep him alive and moving. If it weren't for his Trauma Resistance, he knew he'd have collapsed, with certain death to follow.

  Running along the winding bridge, he almost fell over the edge. The flame was blinding, and there were no handrails. All he could do was watch the burning stone ahead of him. He made it to the end of the fourth section. He ran as if demons were chasing him as the spear creaked and cracked under his feet. Three-quarters of the way across, he could feel the spear give way. He flung himself forward and threw out his charmed rope as the spear collapsed, falling into the lava below. His rope reached the other side of the bridge, and he swung George of the Jungle style and slammed face-first into the stone below the bridge deck. Stunned, he climbed the rope desperately. Exploding lava sent droplets flying. Some missed him; others found their mark with hissing, searing brutality.

  Flint appeared next to him. “I can see you're busy, but I thought I might mention your rope is on fire.”