Fela and her Dalari soon finished off the remaining threats, and we regrouped at a set of large, double doors at the far end of the library.

  “You’re all still alive,” Fela said. “Impressive.”

  “Careful, Fela,” Latro commented. “If you pet a dog too much, it will start following you around.”

  “Are you comparing Musgrave to a dog?” Ersabet asked. “Or did I mishear?”

  Latro rolled his eyes dramatically. “You might act as if you care, but in your heart, you know your place. You know who we are and the rights we carry. Humans see animals as property. They do with them what they will.” Latro shrugged. “Need I complete the analogy?”

  “I have a great idea,” Fela said. “How about neither of you speaks to the other? We still have one more floor after this. You can resume hating each other after we have access to the portal.”

  Wisely, neither Ersabet nor Latro protested against Fela’s proclamation.

  “You’ve completed this part of the dungeon before, right?” I asked Fela.

  She nodded.

  “Are we close?”

  She gestured to the door near us. “Last time we were here, this door led us to an exit, but as you know, this place is ruled by magic, and magic can be unpredictable. It can even change the layout of the palace, so I don’t know what waits for us behind this door.”

  “Only one way to find out, I guess,” I said. “Let’s have a look.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “I would say after you, but Ersabet would be saddened if you died, and I do not hold hate in my heart for her like some of my companions.”

  “How about we send those companions of yours through the door first, then?”

  “Careful, Musgrave,” Fela said. “You are no dog, but you are also not Dalari. I enjoy you, but you must remember your place and act accordingly.”

  Just when I was beginning to think that Fela might share in some of Ersabet’s liberal sensibilities, she reminded me of who she really was. She was not here to protest the game; she was here to play it. It would be easier to remember that if she weren’t so friendly…and I’ll admit, her lovely face and toned body made it difficult to see the monster inside of her.

  I bowed my head in supplication, and that seemed to satisfy her.

  “My people will go first, and you follow behind,” Fela said. “You’ll thank me when you survive.”

  Fela, Latro, and Damine grouped up nearest the door with Mercella, Ersabet, and Yurian behind them. We, puny humans, remained at the rear.

  They opened the door and rushed through, expecting a fight, but they stopped short, clearly confused by something.

  “It’s empty,” I heard Damine say as the rest of us slowly filtered into the room.

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  We were in a high-ceilinged room that looked like a lecture hall, with rows upon rows of intricately carved wooden chairs lining the floor before a raised dais, on which rested a chair so large and elaborate that it could only be a throne. But who puts a throne room in the basement?

  Sand covered much of the floor and was piled on a few of the chairs. It was everywhere, like a dozen sand elementals had just died all over the place.

  “Where are all the mobs?” I heard Latro ask ahead of me.

  “The gemstone eyes are a new feature,” Mercella said. “That should have been an indication that the palace had changed.”

  “I didn’t expect it to be exactly the same, but I did expect there to be something to fight in here. The exit isn’t even behind the throne anymore!”

  “We’ll have to backtrack,” Fela said. “We’ll locate an exit somewhere, and I’m sure Latro will find that fight he so desperately desires.”

  “It’s not the fight I relish,” he said. “It’s the power I gain from every level up.”

  “Shut up, Latro,” Fela said in a hushed tone, but in this still room, it was easy to hear. “You will confuse the humans.”

  He waved a hand. “The system handles any discrepancies in their minds. We need not worry.”

  Fela frowned but let the subject drop. “We can head…”

  Her words were cut off by a quiet mumble echoing throughout the room. It increased in intensity, accompanied by the soft, granular hiss of sand shifting. The sand atop a nearby chair started vibrating and bouncing about like popcorn. The rumble grew louder, and wind began to swirl about the room, catching grains of sand as it passed. The inexplicable whirlwind increased in speed, and I had to shield my eyes from the blowing sand, but only for a moment. The pelting sand weakened around us, and the whirlwind tightened up and moved further away. It picked up more and more sand as it moved through the room until it centered itself around the throne. The whirlwind contracted even further, becoming a tightly formed dust devil.

  It grew smaller and smaller, condensing the sand within it. A shape began to take form atop the throne as the dust devil slowly altered its shape. Wind shrieked as it spun itself into a coherent humanoid shape, sitting atop the throne. Gradually, the wind and dust relented, leaving a nude man in its wake. He was one of the largest men I had ever seen, his mass taking up most of the space on the already enlarged throne. His muscles were huge and chiseled, and his black beard was tied into a single braid. I tried to keep my eyes on his face, lest I be blinded by another abnormally large body part.

  He smiled and opened his arms in greeting. “Welcome, patrons! I’ve not had visitors in ages. Please, come forward. You are most welcome in the court of Emir Jardir.”

  Cautiously, we all started walking closer to the throne. I had expected this man to attack us without hesitation; instead, he was inviting us to speak with him. Could we ask him for a way down to the third floor?

  “I do not recognize your faces,” Emir Jardir said from his throne. “Are you not of Nessiru?”

  “We aren’t from here, your grace,” Fela said with a polite bow. “But we have travelled far to see this famed palace for ourselves.”

  “Not patrons, then?” he said, less enthused. “Do you not come bearing gifts?”

  Fela bowed deeper. “Apologies, your grace, but we come bearing only ourselves.”

  “You come to my throne and seek to curry my favor, yet you bring no gifts.” His baritone voice echoed throughout the room. “Why should I gift you another second of my time when you offer nothing in return?”

  Another bow from Fela. “Apologies, we do not wish to offend. We seek to please you, your grace, in the hope that you’ll allow us passage beyond this realm. Although we have naught to give, we are capable fighters and competent strategists. Is there a way we might serve you?”

  The emir tugged at his beard, considering. “You seek the underworld?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, brave you must be. This is good, as I have a task only the bravest could complete. My older brother, the Sultan, is old and senile. A danger to his people. He’s become riddled with evil, controlled by his wretched manipulator of a wife, Liara. Slay them, so I can take my rightful place on the throne instead of this lowly facsimile.”

  Fela bowed deeply. “It shall be done, your grace. Where might we find them?”

  “The Throne of Nessiru has sat empty for years. The Sultun hides away in his rooms, taking counsel from no one but his wife. Return to the grand entry and take the stairs to the top. You’ll find them there.”

  With one last bow, Fela turned and walked away. When she snapped her fingers, we all turned to follow.