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This one asks that you be quick. Do not get me into trouble.”

“Thank you, Warrane.”

I floated ahead of him and down the hall, soon emerging in the bakery storeroom. There was flour everywhere. Pots smashed, glass all over the floor. Raisins and currents littered throughout.

And there was Gary. Slouched on the floor, his eight eyes looking dazed. The stench of alcohol was enough to make an elephant tipsy. I realized I still had my core smell amplified. I dulled it down and looked at my friend. He had crumbs and jam on his abdomen. He must have broken into the storeroom and had a drunken snack.

The question was, did he kill those people before he did it?

“Gary?”

All his eyes blinked. Part of him was covered in flour. Other parts in blood. In places, the two had met and formed a crimson gloop.

“You didn’t come,” he said.

That wasn’t Gary’s voice. Where was the cheer? The ridiculous positivity? This voice was lifeless.

“What happened, Gary?”

“You said you’d come. It was supposed to be a special night.”

“Did you horribly mutilate and slaughter those people? Just tell me. I won’t be mad. Everyone makes mistakes,” I said.

“They were my friends. Or I thought they were. I should have known better. Should have known not to trust even my own dungeon mates to be there for me…”

“I need to know what happened so I can sort this all out. Come on, you know me. The killing itself doesn’t bother me. It’s against dungeon rules to kill civilians, but let’s forget that for now. After all, what’s a little murder now and then? Not a crime, is it? Well, I suppose it is. But you know what I mean. Tell me the facts, and then I can help you.”

Tears ran from four of his eyes, cutting a current down the smear of flour on his cheeks. He used a leech leg to wipe the mess away. He only made it worse. Spread a smear of crimson blood-flour over his cheeks and into his eyes.

I felt sorry for him. Sorry, and angry. If he’d killed those people, he’d just destroyed any chance of me becoming chief. He’d put the dungeon in danger. But he was my friend, I’d let him down, and he was in a state. I was supposed to be the dungeon leader. To look out for every dungeon mate. Could I really say I’d done that lately?

“Just tell me one thing. Give me the truth, and I’ll believe you,” I said.

“You’d take my word for it just like that?”

“We’re friends, Gary.”

“Friends keep promises, dear chap. It’s the most basic foundation,” he said.

And now I felt bad again.

“I’m sorry. Things are hard right now. A lot is going on. And with the chief election, dungeon security is on the line. I had to think of everyone, and not just you.”

“Is that what it was, Beno? A decision? Or did you merely forget?”

I tried to decide which sounded worse.

Deciding to miss his show meant I weighed up the options and concluded that Gary’s important night was way down the list of my priorities. But forgetting to go showed that he meant so little to me I didn’t give him a thought. Either way, I looked bad.

I needed to give him an answer, because I needed him to talk.

“Core Beno?” called a voice from outside the room.

“One second, Warrane.”

“This one needs you to leave. Chief Galatee is coming.”

“Just one second.” I floated eye level with Gary. “Just tell me if you murdered those people. We can deal with the consequences, but I need the truth.”

Gary thought about it.

“Tell me why you missed my show.”

I couldn’t lie to him and then expect him to tell the truth. “I forgot, Gary. I’m sorry.”

He nodded his head. He wasn’t angry at all, which made it worse. “I don’t know what happened here.”

“How can you not know?”

“I was drunk, Beno. Completely off my head.”

Damn it.

Everything about this was a contradiction.

On the one hand, Gary was a dungeon monster. I had combined a spider, stone troll, and a leech to create a giant killing machine. His whole purpose was to slaughter people who entered my dungeon. Given that he’d been found in the same place as a bunch of bodies, it didn’t take a giant leap to see he could have done it.

But anyone who knew Gary would say it was impossible. Killing heroes was in his nature, but that was just it - killing heroes. He didn’t murder indiscriminately. If someone was in my dungeon, they were fair game. Outside of it, nope.

Added to that, Gary had a soft side. He was the most sensitive murder monster I knew. I refused to believe he’d just mutilated four people.

If he couldn’t remember, then I couldn’t say for sure. But I had to make up my mind. Did I side with my friend, or with logic? I supposed that was the thing about belief. You had to risk being wrong, but hope you weren’t.

“Core Beno?” snapped a voice.

Chief Galatee was at the end of the hall. Though she was a gnome and naturally quite short, she had a glare that seemed to make her bigger than anyone. I’d seen burly soldiers wither under her stare. Galatee was as sun-drenched as they came, having spent all her life in the wasteland. The sun had cracked her skin. Toughened her. Years of war and struggle had done the same to her mind.

“We need to talk, Beno.”

I joined her in the bakery shop floor. I couldn’t see the crowd outside because the windows were covered, but I could hear them. They weren’t merely curious now. There was tension. I could sense it building.

And then a voice shouted.

“I’m sick of this! They’re

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