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back on the handle. I kicked it in frustration; it moved inwards, just an inch. I gave it another good kick and it moved a little more. I soon took out all of my anger on the door. Everything that had gone wrong was vented onto the splintering wood. Finally, it gave. I stepped through and slowly walked down the narrow twisting stairs to find a well-lit room with bare stone walls and a dank concrete floor.  
    It smelled of damp earth and death. I curled my lip and wrinkled my nose; the sooner I could get in and out the better. I ran my fingers over the bottle the elf had given me, assuring myself that it was still present. I mentally kicked myself when I remembered that I needed the thief’s blood, too. A scuffling of footsteps and creaking wood above me gave me hope that perhaps I could retrieve some of his blood after all. I murmured a thanks to the gods for some small fortune. I firmly believed they were malevolent assholes who saw us mere mortals as nothing more than pawns and toys, but I tried to thank them on the odd times things went right. Just in case there was more at stake than I realised.  
    I pressed myself into a small dip in the wall, hoping to hide in the shadows and catch the elf by surprise. My muscles tensed. I slipped a throwing knife into my hand and waited. The upstairs clearly wasn’t lived in; there was no reason for him to hang around up there. Time crawled by, my breathing echoing in my ears, until, finally, footsteps came down the stairs.  
    They were heavier and more shuffling than I’d expected. It took me a moment to realise there was more than one set. I was trapped in the narrow passage. I couldn’t take on a group of them. A quick glance further down the hall told me I had nowhere to go. I had to rely on stealth and speed. I cursed under my breath; I’d thanked the gods too soon.  
    A broad form lurched into sight. Its head almost scraped the high ceiling. Its breath rasped and gurgled. I released a slow breath and threw the knife. It stopped dead in its tracks; the knife had hit home in its throat. It vanished in a puff of heavy smoke. I cursed again under my breath. I didn’t know what they were, but they were magical. I wished for Quin’s magic dispersal powder once more, and the idea of him learning alchemy was growing on me.  
    Two more creatures blocked out the light in the hallway. I caught a brief glimpse of grey-green skin and glassy white eyes. They were some summoned abomination. My instincts kicked in, and I used my throwing knives to take them down as quickly as I could. The hallway was filled with dark smoke that sat deep in my lungs and made me gasp for air. I eventually heard the liquid tones of an elf. His curses were foreign to me, but his exasperated tone was clear in any language.  
    Pain cut into my thigh through the smoke. I pulled my blade and slashed the area where the pain had come from. A swift kick caught my hip. I stepped away deeper down the hall, trying to get away from the smoke and see what I was up against. The warm trickle of my blood ran down my leg as I waited for some sign of my attacker. I saw a flash of pale hair and took a risk. I stabbed into the area just in front of where I’d seen the hair; the elf howled in pain. The smoke vanished and I could see clearly again. Deep purple blood ran down his pale skin; he bared his sharpened teeth at me and lunged with a manic expression. His eyes were wild, his lips pulled back to their limit. I dodged left at the last second and smashed his face into the hard stone wall.  
    He slumped, but caught himself before he went down properly. I kicked him hard in the ribs, but he refused to stay down. Words fell from his mouth in quick succession. I recognised the rhythmic flow of an incantation. Grabbing a handful of his hair, I smashed his face back into the wall, stopping his spell before he could finish it. He groaned; blood ran through his hair and dripped from his eyebrows. He shook himself and went to