The ladies were nowhere to be seen, and their door was still closed. Marko sat down on the couch and demurely crossed his ankles. He pulled the BlackBerry from his inventory and began to tap at it while he waited.

  “What are you doing?” I said.

  “Waiting.”

  “They can’t be that much longer.”

  “You misunderstand. I’m waiting for Aria to get it out of her system.”

  As if on cue, the other bedroom door opened and the women came out. They were wearing sarongs around their waists, but only sarongs. I noticed that Aria was carrying a can of some kind in one hand before adjusting my eyes upward. She took a few aggressive steps forward, invading my personal space, eyes locked on mine. I could see Marcy hovering around behind her, looking uncertain.

  “Hey,” Aria said.

  “Aria.”

  I’d tried for cool detachment, but I could tell by her smirk I’d failed completely. Aria had purple eyes to match her purple hair. I hadn’t noticed before. Still standing far too close, she held up the can she was carrying.

  “Spray me.”

  “What?”

  “Spray. Me.”

  I looked down at the can. It was bug spray, though not a kind I recognized. The can had flowers on it and claimed to smell like nature. What does nature even smell like? Doesn’t that depend on location?

  “Focus, Victor,” Aria said. She stretched her arms out and turned around. “Spray my back. I’m not looking to be a bug buffet just because you’re shy.”

  I sighed and started to spray her. Aria had a bunch of tattoos. I’d seen the snake on her arm and the bats on her leg but never had a reason to see the tattered angel wings on her back, or the bouquet of skulls decorating her décolletage. Among others, I spotted a pair of bleeding eyes on one shoulder and a row of jagged teeth around her other bicep. By the time I was finished with the spray, her being mostly naked was less overwhelming.

  “Now do Marcy,” Aria said.

  I stepped over to Marcy, who took off her glasses and lifted her arms to be sprayed. She only had one tattoo. It was an owl on her left shoulder blade. When I was done, Marcy took the can from me.

  “Your turn,” she said.

  “Are you done playing?” Marko said, with a bland look at Aria.

  “Nice tattoos,” Aria said, pretend leering at him.

  Marko sighed and stood up to let Marcy spray his back. When she was done, he took the can from her, and we finished protecting our tasty skin from pesky insects. The can lied, by the way. The spray still smelled like ass.

  “I wish we had sandals,” Marcy said. “I don’t mind going barefoot, but some of the trails could be pokey.”

  “I’m sure they have flip-flops at the gift store,” Marko said. “Let’s get some and track down the quest marker.”

  The moment I stepped outside I received a message.

  Achievement Unlocked: Streaker!

  You’re naked! Outside in public! That takes some big cojones that everyone

  can see because you’re naked! I hope you’re not too cold!

  I groaned. That wasn’t even technically correct. Stupid fucking achievements. The gift store did offer flip-flops and soon our feet were making slapping sounds as we walked. We passed plenty of people all engaged in various outdoor activities. A few of them waved as we walked by, but no one paid us any real attention. Marcy had the campground map and was checking it against what we could see of the area map.

  “It looks like we’re headed toward the hot springs,” she said. “This little valley is supposed to be warmer than the surrounding areas because of the hot springs and geothermal currents.”

  “This is a strange place to hide something important,” I said, as we passed a group of people playing semi-nude volleyball. The shiftlings were cheating.

  “Not at all,” Marko said. “It’s brilliant, actually. How many people take nudists seriously? Outsiders are easy to spot, and you can’t hide many tools under a sarong. We’d be out of luck if we didn’t have our inventories.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The quest marker led us down a trail past the hot springs, which looked quite popular, and around a tall hedge to a decaying bathhouse. The door had a warped and faded sign that said Out of Order and was held shut with lock and chain. Marko took a look around and, seeing we were alone, grabbed the chain with both hands. He pulled, barely seeming to strain, and the door handles broke off in a spray of splinters.

  “Goodness,” Marcy said, pushing up her glasses.

  “The door was rotted,” Marko said. “It’s not that impressive.”

  Inside, the bathhouse was a riot of moss, mildew, and mold. The quest marker hovered over an open shower. All the metal was caked with rust, and the floor tiles were cracked and grungy. The place stank just as badly as you’d expect.

  “Hmm,” Marko said. “That doesn’t look promising.”

  “There better be something here,” Aria said. “I didn’t get naked just to amuse Victor.”

  We searched the building, prodding aside detritus with the toes of our flip-flops. The quest timer was down to under three hours. Finally, it was Marcy who found what we were looking for. I’m not sure why she tried turning the shower handle, but it gave an almighty squeal and the floor slid open to reveal a set of concrete stairs.

  “Good work, Marcy,” Marko said.

  We descended the stairs and soon came to a short hallway that ended in a solid-looking metal door painted blinding white.

  “This seems like a good place to get dressed,” I said. “I’m not depending on this sarong to protect me if we find toothy monsters behind that door.”

  The hall was narrow, but we managed to get dressed with a minimum of swearing, staggering and poking each other with elbows or knees. I immediately felt better when I pulled on my jacket. Marko, Aria and I retrieved our TECs from our inventories, and Marcy held a Glock. Aria checked on the small woman and, seeing she had the pistol pointed at the ground, gave her an approving nod. Marko inspected the door, running his hands over parts of it, before stepping back.

  “I think it’s safe,” he said. “I don’t see anything resembling a handle, though.”

  “Let me have a look,” Marcy said.

  She stepped up to the door and, handing her pistol to Marko, pulled out her modded magifone. I was close enough I could read the name of the phone. It was a Nokia Lusca. Unsurprisingly, I’d never heard of it. Marcy alternated between a couple different screens, checking a wave display on one and typing away with both thumbs on the other. Aria shuffled in place, absently scratching her cheek, looking bored. I watched the quest timer. It took twenty minutes before the door made a soft beep and slid into the frame with the hiss of equalizing pressure. Under two hours left.

  “Adam was right,” I said. “We did need you. I don’t think I could have misted around the door, and it looks too solid to break.”

  Marcy gave me a smile, put away the magifone, and took her Glock back from Marko. Aria had stepped up to the doorway for a look, and I moved beside her. Inside was a gleaming white hallway, lit from overhead by glaringly white lights. It had bare concrete floors and looked antiseptic, like a hospital. I could see intersections spaced every thirty feet and another white door at the end of the hall. It was eerily silent, except for a quiet humming noise. The quest arrow pointed down the hall toward the door.

  “Not much of a labyrinth,” Marko said, after taking a look.

  “What?” I said.

  “The quest text. It said we’d find a labyrinth here. Of course, it also described the locals as either ‘splendiferous’ or ‘odious’ so I guess I shouldn’t have expected too much.”

  “For all you know this is just the start of the labyrinth,” Marcy said. “We can’t see anything beyond that door.”

  “That’s…,” Marko said. “Actually a good point.”

  “Can you send your scouts to look around?” I said to Marcy.

  “Sure.”

  A pair of ravens appeared, one sitting on each of Marcy’s shoulders. They were jet black and the one on the right cocked its head at me and blinked. I blinked back. As one, they flew off down the hall and faded from view, going completely invisible after about five feet.

  “Nice,” Aria said.

  “Do they have to report back?” Marko asked.

  “No. I get a pair of new windows. I see what they see.”

  “Anything interesting?” I said, after a minute.

  “The halls to the right don’t have any other doors and all lead back to the central hallway. I’m not sure what to make of the other direction. The hallway is interrupted by something like a tube that’s been cut in half and separated. It looks like some sort of channel, only it’s filled with golden light. Munin doesn’t want to get near it. It vaguely reminds me of the large hadron collider.”

  “Unless the quest goes that direction, it doesn’t matter what it is,” Marko said. “I’m more concerned with the lack of defenses.”

  “Same,” I said. “Other than the locked door, this seems simple. It makes me suspicious. Why send us if anyone could do it?”

  “Maybe Adam wanted to see you naked,” Aria said, grinning.

  “How far can you send your other legends?” I said, ignoring her.

  “It depends. Achilles won’t move more than a couple feet from me. Balor is limited to line of sight and Miyamoto is the same.”

  “You said Balor was slow, but Miyamoto is listed as a skirmisher, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alright,” I said. “Marcy, stay in the back. Aria, cover her. Marko and I will guard the door. I want you to send Miyamoto to the first intersection and see what happens. If this all goes to shit, don’t hesitate to run away. Sound good?”

  Marcy looked pale but nodded. Marko took up position beside the door and Aria gave me a thumbs up. I heard a series of clicks as safeties were disengaged.

  “Go.”

  A man appeared in the doorway, slightly ahead of Marko and I. He was a touch shorter than me and wore red lacquered samurai armor, including a helm with side crests, and an oni mask. He had on straw sandals with split-toe tabi and carried a pair of naked blades. His right hand held a katana and the left a wakizashi.

  “That’s more armor than I was expecting,” I said. “But at least it’s accurate.”

  Miyamoto turned to regard me and bowed his head slightly. I returned the bow because I’m not suicidal. Any martial artist worth his salt is familiar with Miyamoto Musashi, author of The Book of Five Rings. The legend started down the hallway and stopped at the first intersection. For a moment, nothing happened. Then it all went to shit, because of course it did.