I was walking down the stairs when something caught my eye, a slight glimmer and the unsettling sense that all was not as it seemed.

  I surveyed the room and spotted it, just off the corner of the dresser.

  When I zoomed in, I knew immediately what it was: an Ice Thompson chest.

  I kicked it. Confetti fell, which made me nervous, but this time there were no horns or flutes. No surprises. Only the contents of the box.

  I looked down and saw a pair of black binoculars. No weapon, no buffs, no clothes. Just a lone pair of stylish binoculars, polished and fitted with a strap so they could dangle from my neck.

  Vision Goggles — Rare

  

  The wall-seeing feature sounded too good to be true. Too bad it was limited to only twice per day. Still, I could put them to work right now, planning a route to one of the leprechauns and taking him out with my piece of frayed rope.

  I dug the binoculars out of the chest and slipped the strap around my neck. Raising them to my eyes, everything appeared far too close. I twisted the small dial at the base, and the view zoomed out. Turning the dials around the glass cylinders brought everything into crisp focus.

  The bow and arrow let me get close, but not this close.

  Through the lenses, I could see the pitted marks on the leprechaun’s face, even the outline of a red beard struggling to grow. It reminded me of my own peach fuzz, which I was still proud of.

  I switched to the bow and arrow to target the two regular leprechauns first. After that, I would have to deal with the elite one, plus nineteen hypnotized minds charging at me.

  I used the aim-assist function, testing it for a moment before loosing both arrows. As the perfectly aimed shots drifted through the air, I sprinted toward the leader, screaming to throw him off.

  His two allies collapsed in a spray of blood and dust. He didn’t like that one bit.

  The elite scowled, snatched up his megaphone, and shouted at me with cruel seriousness. Curse after curse spilled out, loud, discordant, and rattling with menace.

  “You filthy, raggedy, coarse-brained oaf of a fool!” he bellowed through the tinny megaphone. “Killing my best lieutenants! For that, I’ll flay your skin and feed it to the wolves!”

  The sound warped the air as it blasted from the megaphone, crashing into my body. Even with my ears covered by a makeshift bandanna, I dropped to my knees. Sparks faltered above me, her eyes turning cloudy, and then she fell out of the air at my feet.

  The leader tossed aside the megaphone, clutched his waist, and with his free hand, raised it above his head, summoning a force that shook the room.

  I struggled to focus on him, my mind buckling under the waves of his voice. Every faculty I had was unraveling.

  Yet he continued to assault me through the megaphone. “You and your sniveling ways will lead to your motherfucking death!” he shouted, his words swirling out of the device and burrowing into my mind and body.

  Vomit rose in my stomach as I lifted a hand to the side of my head and felt blood trickling from my ears.

  From my knees, I glanced back at the men and women, now thrashing against each other like partygoers at a rave. Lost to the machinations of the leprechauns, not one of them could save me.

  This was it.

  The leprechaun strode up to me. Instead of blasting me with rainbow beams, he grabbed me with one hand and slapped the fire out of me with his fingers glowing like sparklers.

  Blood sprayed from my mouth as I rolled onto my side.

  “What are you doing?” I croaked.

  “Getting you ready for the process,” he cackled, then unleashed a powerful beam straight into my chest.

  The last thing I remembered was the world dissolving into darkness before I blacked out.

  * * *

  Pain. The small swelling around my eye. Other sensations told me I had been beaten badly, but somehow healed.

  I inhaled mildew and felt the hard metallic surface beneath me. Somewhere nearby, water dripped. Its incessant rhythm filling me with dread.

  When I pried my eyes open, I found myself in darkness, except for my small glowing friend hovering nearby. Her tiny body cast a blue light over my bloodied cloak and shirt.

  She buzzed, and the stains were removed from my clothes along with every tear and tip.

  I sat up, taking my time working out my muscles and stretching.

  Then she darted around, blasting me with emotion after emotion, vibrating wickedly fast. The first was elation, but every one after that twisted into fear and confusion.

  I stared at her as she spun in a whirlwind. “What happened to me?” My hand went to my face, tracing every half-healed lump those evil-ass leprechauns had left me with. “Feels like I’ve been thrown in a blender, but you gave me a potion.”

  More emotions came, ones that reminded me of darkness and depth. “Are you okay?” I asked her, trying to see where I was being held.

  She descended to my shoulder and buried herself in my neck. “I’m okay, thanks to you,” I told her. “Now we have to get out of here.”

  She floated away, and I spotted a doorway thanks to her luminescent glow.

  I stood, nearly tripping over something, but managed to stay upright and follow where Sparks had gone. Smooth wood met my hand as I felt around for a doorknob.

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  “Can you burn brighter?” I asked her.

  Her face tightened in effort, and then her glow swelled, spreading wider. After a couple of minutes of me inspecting the door, she let out a tiny sigh and shrank back to her normal brightness.

  “Wait a minute. How did you get locked in here with me?”

  Longing and devotion were all I felt from her.

  “The last thing I remember is both of us falling from that leprechaun’s megaphone. Did they miss you, and you followed me?”

  She glowed brighter in response.

  “Okay,” I said, smiling. “You saved my life, Sparks, and for that, I’m indebted to you.”

  She circled once and returned to hovering.

  I rubbed the edge of the door with my fingers, searching for a groove.

  When I found one, I summoned Havoc Maker into my hand and wedged the tip into the gap. Pressing with all my strength, I forced against it.

  Light spilled into the room, but no matter how hard I pushed, the door wouldn’t give. Then I remembered the potion I’d found earlier in that alcove with the rope. I downed it in one swallow, feeling the strength rush through me, and tried again.

  This time, the door creaked and groaned before finally giving way.

  The light revealed a decomposed body, nothing left but bones and clumps of hair.

  I stumbled back, then turned and hurried out into the hall. Chest heaving, I looked ahead and saw door after door stretching down both sides, each one exactly like the last.

  Thick wood and metal bolts.

  At the first door I pressed my ear against, I heard the muffled sound of someone crying. The next had footsteps pacing back and forth, a voice muttering low. The third is more sobbing.

  I focused, straining to catch the words, and thought I heard someone mention their family, something about Ma, and homemade food.

  A chill ran through me, but my instincts rose up like an old friend.

  “Lamont,” they whispered, “this may be where the hostages from Penders are kept.”

  I couldn’t free them yet without knowing what guards were waiting, or if the Bogart was just outside.

  Once I had a proper lay of the land, I would return to rescue them. For now, though, my task was simple: find the Bogart and slay him.

  The soles of my shoes slapped against the cold, wet floor as I ran toward the end of the hall.

  I paused and crouched when I spotted two leprechauns laughing among themselves. Idiots didn’t even know their deaths were waiting for them.

  Without giving them a chance to react, I brought my blade down and ended their lives with ease.

  I searched the room and found another doorway leading to a set of stairs. Peeking around the corner, I saw no one, only more dim lights and grimy walls caked in red dust.

  I slowed down to settle my nerves because at that moment, my adrenaline was pumping hard.

  When your energy ran wild, mistakes were made, and now wasn’t the time.

  I crept downstairs, listening for more enemies. Sword in hand, Sparks hovering near my head. My legs felt heavy as boulders, my arms shaky as a dope fiend’s.

  At the landing, I eased into a long corridor. More grit and red dust lined the walls. My pulse hammered, fear and worry weighing me down. With the hallway so tight, if one of those leprechauns launched a beam at me in here, I’d be toast.

  Above, swinging lights, their shadows amplifying my fear like bass rumbling through cheap speakers.

  Almost jogging, I reached the end and stopped before a beat-up wooden door. Behind it, the sound of one voice.

  This time, though, I couldn’t make out the words. What I did catch was the tone, and this wasn’t a normal conversation. It sounded like someone was in serious pain.

  Anguish, combined with confusion.

  Even if I couldn’t understand the language I was hearing, I knew the sound of whimpering. And this one was deep and throaty, almost like it belonged to something huge and muscular with big back tendencies.

  Thinking of what Sam had told me about the Bogart, I knew I had finally found him.

  Remembering the binoculars, I lifted them to my eyes and let the computer visuals take over.

  In shades of gray and white, I could see everything, though it took me a moment to adjust. The view looked like how night vision was portrayed in movies—flat, with no real sense of depth. Still, it was enough. A massive blob of gray paced in circles inside an even bigger white box.

  Inside the gigantic room stood the Bogart, his head nearly brushing the ceiling. No one else was with him, which somehow made his whimpering even more miserable.

  He turned toward the door, and the areas where he exhaled showed darker gray patches, giving me the faintest definition of his face.

  I unequipped the binoculars, strapped on the werecat claws, and gave the air a swipe. Electric flashes trailed from the tips of the nails. A toggle appeared on-screen, but I decided to at least try communicating with the giant before unleashing hell.

  Pressing my ear to the door, I waited for him to quiet down. A cry came first, followed by scratching, then heavy sniffing—a lot of it.

  When the noise finally stopped, I set my hand on the knob and flung the door open.

  What I saw was too hard to believe.

  The Bogart was crying with both of his hands over his eyes like a giant baby. I’m talking balling with big fat tears streaming down his face.

  Next to him was a massive silver helmet with wires and large speakers attached to it.

  He turned to me with a dazed look. His nose was red, his eyes lazy, and his mouth hung open.

  The Bogart was the ugliest thing I’d seen since arriving in this world. Dressed in overalls, with a large scar cutting across his face, tiny teeth, and bulging eyes, he looked deformed. Dare I say it, I almost felt sorry for the creature.

  But seeing him in this state—the same monstrosity who had kidnapped an entire town and forced them to dig up dust just so he could snort it—I charged at him, claws out, ready to take revenge for Sam and the rest of the townsfolk. Even if I didn’t know them all that well.

  He stumbled back, dazed, pointing at his spine and mouthing something I couldn’t make out.

  Sparks sent a shiver through me. A yearning. I looked at her, brow raised—and then it hit me.

  The emotion was clear.

  Help.

  The Bogart wanted help.

  The problem was, could I actually give it?

  I approached the twenty-foot-tall being, hands raised, and began circling him. His eyes followed me with every step. When I drew closer, he swiped at me, but I jerked back and kept circling.

  When I reached his back, I saw it: something was lodged in his spine. It looked heavy, discharging sparks every few seconds.

  “Let me help you,” I said, my voice rising a few decibels.

  Sniffling, he mumbled incoherently, then slumped to the floor.

  The device lodged in his spine was massive, about the size of a grown man. Thin and shiny, like aluminum foil. When my hands wrapped around it, I felt power crackle hard enough to rattle my teeth.

  Giving my all, I tried to dislodge it, but just couldn’t. He shivered as I ripped my hands away, yet he sat motionless otherwise.

  I equipped Havoc Maker and wedged it between the metal, working it back and forth.

  His body jerked violently, but I kept at it like a man pursuing a dream.

  After a few minutes, it began to give.

  The creature trembled, his eyes flickering open and shut in rapid succession.

  “Come on,” I muttered through clenched teeth.

  Near the base of his spine, the doohickey came loose. I dropped my sword, gripped it with both hands, and pulled with every ounce of strength I had.

  It tore free from his skin with a sound like Velcro ripping through leather.

  The noise was sickening, but I couldn’t stop. If I did, the brute would surely die. He was shaking so violently that everything not nailed down rattled across the floor.

  The stench of burnt flesh hung heavy in the air, and when I finally wrenched the metal free, he collapsed with a thunderous thud.

  “Oh my,” he said, rubbing his back. “That sure feels good.”

  “So you can speak?”

  “I’ve been trying to tell everyone, but they couldn’t understand me,” he said slowly. “Then those damned leprechauns stuck that thing in my spine, forced a helmet on my head, and threatened me. They made me walk around, blasting music to get humans to fall under their control.”

  “So that’s what they’re doing… but why? And what was that thing I pulled from your spine?”

  “It’s how the leprechauns controlled me. They found me sleeping one night and lodged that thing on my back. That and the helmet made me as dim-witted as a bucktooth troll,” he said. “But thanks to you, I’ve got all my faculties back.” He smiled, tapping his head.

  I returned the smile. “Then why did you kidnap all the townsfolk?”

  “I didn’t. It was the leprechauns who did all those awful things. What they used me for was blasting that god-awful music into the ravine to control their minds. As for why… I haven’t a clue.”

  “Well, they’re definitely using the people to mine zephyr from what I’ve seen. I even managed to kill a few of them before my brain got hijacked by some gold-suit-wearing leprechaun.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “That’s the leader. Jerk-off if you ask me. Says the leprechauns used to be the only ones who worked with zephyr, and when humans figured out all the wonderful things it did, they hogged it for themselves. The mind control and all that is just their way of keeping the mineral without having to work as hard for it.”

  It all began to make sense. The reason Bogart had been such a menace was that he couldn’t help it. The leprechauns were the masterminds behind everything. If I could get this big fellow on my side, I might just squash their whole operation.

  “What’s your name, big guy?” I asked.

  “Malworth,” he replied. “And you are?”