Chapter 44: Burn It Down, will you?

Chapter 44: Chapter 44: Burn It Down, will you?

Jared stood alone on the ledge, and for a moment he did nothing.

The world was very quiet now that everyone was gone.

He closed his eyes and let his hand drift to his pouch.

Anyone watching might have thought he was about to summon something. The AntBeast, maybe. A cloud of poison from the MountainSnake. A mountain sized turtle, to ford the lake. He was alone. There was no one left to see. It was the obvious move, the sensible move.

It wasn’t what he had in mind.

’I’m going to destroy the whole place.’

He had been turning it over for the last 5 minutes, on the stairs, on the summit, on the long run back down.

This dungeon wasn’t a dungeon. Not really. It was a volcano. A living, breathing, active volcano, spitting out monsters from its own stone. The golems weren’t guarding anything. They were growing out of the walls like moss.

’It might not even have a core.’

He had no proof. Only a feeling. But it fit. They hadn’t encountered a boss. Not one. Not a single guardian, not a single stronger, meaner creature standing between them and a glowing heart.

Gates had bosses. Cores had guardians. That was the rule,a fact every beast master knew. And here, after an hour of fighting, there had been nothing but rock and rubble.

’No boss. Probably no core. Just a big angry mountain.’

The golem factory had to be fed from somewhere. And whatever fed it lay below, in that glowing pit, in the heart of the fire.

[You’re thinking something stupid,]

’I’m thinking something efficient.’

[Is there a difference?]

’Not usually. This time there is. ’

He walked back to the gate. Then stopped.

He didn’t hesitate. He reached up, found the narrow gap by his jaw, slid two fingers into his mouth, and pushed.

His stomach clenched. His eyes watered. A hot, sour surge rolled up his throat, and the suit around him shuddered. The carved mouth above his chin gaped open.

A thin green mist began to leak out.

It drifted into the air in lazy curls. It was the same gas as before. The same plant hydrocarbon that had filled the arena. It flowed in a slow, steady stream, spilling over the lip of the ledge and drifting out across the crater.

Jared looked down at the flames below.

The lava glowed orange, bubbling and spitting. Heat shimmered above it like a mirage.

[Let me make sure I understand,]

[You’re going to fill a volcano with a flammable gas, and then light it.]

’Yes.’

[Using the volcano.]

’Yes.’

[And then you’re going to run away.]

’That’s the idea.’

[It’s as smart as it is stupid.]

’That’s the only kind of plan I’ve got.’

[You’d better escape before the impact itself occurs.]

’I know.’

He tilted his head back. It was a small adjustment, a careful one. He angled his mouth upward, so that the gas shot toward the sky in a long, rising plume instead of pouring straight down. If it had fallen into the pit now, if it had touched the lava too soon, the whole thing would have gone up in his face. He needed it to spread. He needed it to settle slowly, to fill the crater like water filling a bowl.

’Patience,’ he told himself. ’Patience.’

The gas rose, thinned, and spread. In the mean time he was left with his thoughts.

He thought of the Ground Dragon.

’This would be so much easier with her.’

One breath of flame, one spark, and it would be over. She could have lit the whole thing from the other side of the gate, from a safe distance, with no risk at all. She’d have done it in a heartbeat.

The air began to burn.

It started at the edges. A faint shimmer, a ripple of heat, as though the world were melting at the corners. The green mist caught the light and glowed. Where it touched the lava, the surface shuddered and hissed.

The whole crater took on a strange, shimmering glow, red and green and gold, shifting like oil on water.

He heard a crackle.

A thin, dry, snapping sound, like pine logs in a hearth. Then another. Then a dozen. The air tasted like a lit match.

Jared stopped.

He pulled his fingers out of his mouth. The stream of gas dwindled. He stood on the ledge, panting, staring down at the glittering haze.

’That’s it. That’s the spark.’

He was almost sure. It had worked. The sparks were flying. The gas was burning. He had done it. Now all he had to do was get out of the way.

He turned toward the gate.

[Rex.]

’Hm?’

[Chill. Just continue.]

He froze.

’What?’

[That wasn’t it. Those sparks you’re hearing and seeing aren’t the explosion. They’re just flying sparks. Getting excited. Having a little party.]

’Excited?’

[They’re loose. They’re floating. They haven’t hit the deposits yet. You have a lot more gas to go.]

[Chill. Just continue.]

Jared swallowed.

’I thought it was done.’

[It’s not. Keep going.]

He lowered his head. He slid his fingers back into his mouth, closed his eyes, and pushed again.

The green gas poured out again, thick and steady.The very air seemed to thicken, to vibrate, as though the whole mountain were holding its breath.

’Come on. Come on.’

He kept going.

A minute passed. Then two. His throat burned. His eyes streamed. His legs shook. The gas flowed, and flowed, and flowed, a pale green river spilling into a sea of fire.

Then he heard it.

It started deep underground, a low, rolling, hollow sound, like a giant clearing its throat. A rushing. A hiss. A faint, rising whoosh that grew louder, and louder, until it drowned out the roar of the lava. It wasn’t a spark. It wasn’t a crackle. It was something vast and hungry and alive.

Jared’s eyes snapped open.

’That’s it.’

The gas had reached the deposit.

Far below, in the dark caverns beneath the lava lake, pockets of old, trapped fumes had been waiting, sealed in the rock, sleeping. And now a thread of green had found them. It slipped through the cracks. It touched the fire. And the world lit up.

A pillar of flame exploded out of the lake.

It rose in a roaring, boiling column, hundreds of feet high, white at the core, orange at the edges, spiraling toward the sky. The crater lit up like noon. The heat hit him like a hammer.

Jared didn’t wait.

He spun, sprinted three steps, and threw himself through the gate.

* * *

He tumbled out the other side onto cold, broken pavement and lay there on his hands and knees, gasping.

The world spun. The sky was a pale, ordinary blue. The air smelled of dust and exhaust. A faint wind tugged at his armor. He could hear traffic somewhere in the distance, a horn, a siren, the muffled hum of a city on an ordinary afternoon.

He was panting. Seriously panting. His chest heaved. His lungs burned. He pressed one hand to the ground and tried to breathe.

’I did it. I did it. I think I did it.’

Boots crunched on gravel.

"What are you doing here?"

Jared looked up.

A rookie stood a few feet away. Around him, the rest of the team stood in a loose circle in the square, staring. Someone had a hand on a gem. Someone else was biting a thumbnail.

"The gate is still stable," the boy said, pointing. "Look at it. It’s fine."

Jared didn’t look.

"Give it time," he said.

"Give it what?"

"Time. Just give it time."

"Hold on." A familiar voice cut through. Karl strode forward, hands in his pockets, eyes sharp. His casual grin was gone. "You’re going to have to tell us more than ’give it time.’ What’s going on here? You know how critical gates can be."

"I’m not doing this with you, Karl," Jared said, wheezing.

"Doing what?"

"Explaining. I don’t have..."

He started to push himself upright. He opened his mouth to explain.

The gate roared.

A blast of fire burst from its center, a wall of heat and light that tore across the square. It hit like a giant’s fist. Four of them went flying, Jared among them. He tumbled across the pavement, shoulder over heel, the world a spinning blur of orange and gray. A rookie slammed into a lamp post. Another crashed into a parked car. A girl screamed.

Nobody burned though.

He noticed that, even as he rolled. The fire passed over them like a wave, hot and loud and shocking, but it didn’t scorch. It threw them. It battered them. It sent them skidding. But it didn’t burn them.

He came to a stop on his back, staring at the sky.

"What was that?" someone cried. "A dungeon break?"

"That’s not a dungeon break," Karl snapped. "But what was that?"

Jared groaned and sat up.

Flames poured out of the gate’s mouth in thick, roaring streams. The oval, once red and steady, was a ragged mass of white and gold, swirling and snapping. Fire licked across the pavement in long, searching fingers. A parked car, ten feet away, burst into flames with a soft whump. The asphalt began to smoke.

[It didn’t work,]

Jared stared.

’It’s not supposed to be coming out.’

[That’s the problem.]

’It should have stayed inside. It should have burned the crater. It should have destroyed...’

[It didn’t work.]

His stomach dropped.

He had meant it to be a clean, contained detonation. A blast in the heart of the volcano, ripping the dungeon apart from the inside.

Instead, the fire was leaking out of the gate, pouring into the city, a river of flame spilling across the street. He hadn’t killed the dungeon. He had set the doorway on fire.

His shoulders sagged. A deep, bitter disappointment settled over him like a blanket.

’I messed up .’

He turned around.

The team was staring at him. Pale faces, wide eyed, frightened. Zoey stood at the edge of the group, one hand clapped over her mouth. The rookie with the freckles looked like he was about to cry. Even the crab boy had lifted his head.

And Karl stood in front of them, arms folded, jaw tight. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t surprised. He looked, if anything, disappointed. It was somehow worse.

[Wow,]

[They look like they just watched a puppy fall down the stairs.]

’Shut up.’

[Not you. The puppy.]

’I said shut up.’

He tightened his grip on his pouch. His fingers found a small gem. The AntBeast. It was a long shot, but if he went back in, if he could slip through the gate before it collapsed, if he could eat through the lava and find the...

The flames were spreading.

They licked across the street, swallowing cars, scorching the pavement, devouring a row of benches. In a minute, it would reach the wall of buildings.

’I have to go back in. I have to try again.’

He took a step toward the gate.

Just as he turned, the gate closed.

It didn’t fade or flicker. It snapped shut like a slammed door.

Jared’s eyes widened.

Silence settled over the square.

Karl walked forward, slowly. His boots crunched on broken glass. He stopped in front of Jared, looked at the empty space where the gate had been, and then looked at him.

"Did you just destroy a gate?" he asked.

His voice was very quiet.

"Rather than neutralize it?"