《Fools in the Garden [Progression Fantasy/Adventure]》


 Chapter One - Sweet Nectar

    Breach ¨C 3414 Anno Domini


    What was, what could be¡­ All falls before blind madness.


    The witless eye upon them. A weary blink, the curtain rises. An array of crimson lightning fractures the cosmos.


    Little blue world in a cage. Insects with scalped minds, their heavens bleed.


    Birth! Descent! Risen gods and woven myths. Manifest delusions and living nightmares. Their precious monstrosities abound. Rejoice!


    Ruin fell as rain from a pitiless sky.


    ***


    To frame that Apocalypse as cruel would be inaccurate. Rather, call it heedless. A spot of poor luck.


    Now, witness the fools as they wander the demented labyrinth of the Willful Legion. Drink deep.


    Chapter One ¨C Sweet Nectar


    916 Anno Lunae, Third Age


    Reverie Island, Alnam Archipelago, South Altan Sea


    Death is a bridge.


    He was walking, just walking. His name was Gwilym Oubliette, and he was heading home from the market.


    A rotten jungle embraced Reverie¡¯s village. Gwil lived in a rundown windmill on the far side of the woods. Feet plowing through wet leaves, he plodded along the muddy path without a speck of haste. Familiarity was a heavy thing.


    The sky was pale gray, blank and drained. Weak sunlight blotted the clouds like blood on gauze.


    The morning chill prickled in the places where his clothing was torn. Gwil had light brown skin, as was common among the Alnami people. He was of medium build, with dark eyes and a tangled mess of wavy black hair.


    Among the trees were mounds of crushed metal and plastic and stone. He passed by the shredded, rusty carcass of an ancient vehicle.


    ¡°Hey! Come over here!¡±


    Though the call came loud and crisp, it did not echo. It sounded like a woman¡ªher voice singsong but hoarse. Gwil spun in place, trying to nail down the direction of the voice.


    ¡°Yes, you. Come here. To the river.¡±


    Gwil knew what the voice meant, but ¡®river¡¯ was too generous a term. He moved toward the edge of the path, a precipice for how steep the drop. A ravine punched through the land, cutting perpendicular against the path. Along its floor was a shallow stream, its mucky bed littered with garbage. The water did not run, but crawled, gurgling.


    Looking over the edge, Gwil blinked at the vivid splash of color among the browns and blacks and grays. A huge red flower sat on the shallow water. Its dirtied, wilted petals splayed across the mud. This thing did not belong, like the first stroke of paint on a canvas.


    ¡°Hurry up, idiot!¡±


    Gwil laughed. ¡°Are you a talking flower?¡± he called back.


    Gwil set down his two grocery sacks. The crumbling slope was matted with roots. He picked out a rut that he¡¯d used to make this same descent before and stepped in. Using the roots as handholds, he made his way down.


    Momentum pulled him into a flailing stumble. Reaching the bottom, Gwil threw an arm around a tree trunk to catch himself. An antlered wildcat that had been drinking from the stream darted away at the commotion.


    Stepping to avoid the engorged worms and fist-sized slugs that were entrenched in the mud, Gwil approached the flower.


    It resembled a common lotus, except that it was so big¡ªchest high at its clustered center. Crimson pigment edged the white petals.


    The poor thing was stained and mangled. There was only the blossom, with no stem or roots, as if it had bloomed from nothing.


    ¡°Finally. Come closer. Help me.¡±


    Gwil¡¯s boots sank into the muck and the cold water nipped at his feet. He leaned forward to peer into the flower¡¯s center, a writhing cluster of ink-black stamens.


    ¡°Thank you! Sorry!¡±


    The flower¡¯s tentacular organs lashed out like crazed serpents. Gwil dove away¡ªtoo late. The tendrils coiled around his legs and his waist, drawing him in the way a spider wraps up a fly.


    Futility choked his struggling. Moist darkness swallowed him whole. He smelled something sweet, and Gwil realized his mind was being affected, because he felt no fear.


    This was not so bad. Pleasant, even.


    The petals closed.


    Ah, dammit. This is it. Sorry, Caris. I tried.


    He drowned in a pool of gold-brown liquid, a syrupy nectar, cozy as a fleece blanket. Gwil felt no urge to breathe and knew that he was dying or dead.


    Smothering comfort enveloped his being. Twisted crimson skeins pervaded the nectar. Oh, that¡¯s my blood. His giggle came out as a thick gargle.


    He was being crushed. Devoured. Slivers of tissue and viscera peeled away. No more flesh. Bones reduced to dust.


    The darkness unfurled into madness. A towering tree with serpents for roots. An inverted fortress wreathed by a cascading black river. So many eyes, uncaring, staring blankly. A white silk swaddle, centipedes crawling through the folds.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    It all went up in smoke. Searing fire filled his lungs. He heard the beating of great wings. An immense silver hand emerged from the haze, grasping, fingers closing.


    ***


    ¡°Oh! I didn¡¯t expect you to resurrect,¡± the voice sang.


    Gwil sputtered, face down in the cool muck. Gentle hands flipped him onto his back. Dark spots swam through his vision.


    He pawed at his face, wiping away clumps of mud. The lotus¡ªit loomed above him, shaded as if eclipsed. Gwil flailed away, slipping and splashing.


    ¡°Hey, watch it. Calm down.¡±


    The same voice that had hailed him before. His sight clarified. A woman was staring at him, her head tilted in curiosity. The flower obscured the left side of her face.


    Gwil blinked. No, it was that same lotus, but in miniature, and it grew from the woman¡¯s eye socket.


    She scrunched her wet, stringy hair with her hands. Its color was a mottled mix of greens and purples and reds, like the leaf of a deprived plant. Her skin was pale but reddened and glistening, and she was covered with some sort of slime. Her sole eye was gray. The surrounding skin was red and puffy, as if she¡¯d been crying.


    The woman stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot as Gwil scurried back in a crab walk. A violent shiver racked through him, and his arms gave out.


    ¡°W-What are you?¡± Gwil stammered. ¡°Did you kill me?¡±


    The woman clicked her tongue, more sympathetic than rude. ¡°I¡¯m just a person. And yeah, I did. Sorry, but I-¡±


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil yelped. ¡°Finally!¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡±


    ¡°I really did come back to life,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I wonder if that might be bad, though.¡±


    ¡°What are you on about?¡±


    Gwil looked at his hands and wiggled his fingers. ¡°Are you sure? I don¡¯t feel any different.¡± His words were slurred. His head felt full of glue, and his heartbeat was irregular, frenzied.


    She laughed. ¡°Trust me, you were very dead. Dead, dead, dead. You fell out of the flower like thirty minutes ago. Did it hurt?¡±


    Gwil shook his head, and that made him dizzy, then nauseous. He retched a few times, but nothing came up. He drew his knees up and bowed his head between them. That was better. His lungs were starving. He breathed with greedy, gulping gasps.


    She gave him a thumbs up. ¡°Good. I hoped the flower wasn¡¯t such a bad way to go.¡±


    Gwil saw that the giant lotus had transformed into something gray and petrified, like a log of ash in a fire. Parts of it had crumbled.


    He struggled to stand but managed with the woman¡¯s help.


    ¡°Easy now,¡± she said, making sure he stayed upright. ¡°Give your body some time.¡±


    His limbs were buoyant and jittering. His skin stung, as if sunburnt, and it tickled with sweat. But his heart had settled, and his breathing normalized. Gwil shook out his legs, stretched his arms over his head and arched his back. Nothing hurt. The aches had vanished.


    A grin spread across his face. ¡°What a load off! I¡¯ve been stuck here my whole life trying not to die. It¡¯s been so boring.¡±


    ¡°What the hell?¡± the woman muttered.


    ¡°I made someone a promise,¡± Gwil said. Then he grimaced. ¡°But I guess it¡¯s broken.¡±


    The woman stomped her foot, spraying flecks of mud. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    He waved her off. ¡°I¡¯ve become a Hallow, yeah?¡±


    "Obviously. That¡¯s why you came back to life.¡±


    ¡°Nice,¡± Gwil said. He raked trembling fingers through his hair. ¡°This is exciting. Thanks, lady!¡±


    She cocked an eyebrow. ¡°No problem. What¡¯s your name?¡±


    He took a moment to answer. Not because he couldn¡¯t remember, rather, his thoughts were erratic with giddiness. ¡°Gwilym Oubliette. Call me Gwil. What¡¯s yours?¡±


    ¡°Leira.¡±


    ¡°Hey, is a flower gonna grow out of my eye?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Damn. I like yours. It¡¯s so interesting.¡±


    Leira laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t care much for it.¡±


    Gwil looked her over properly now that he¡¯d calmed down. She was stick thin and very tall, a whole head taller than him. Her paleness verged on translucence; webs of veins mapped her flesh.


    She was barefoot, and her ragged shift was the grimiest piece of clothing that Gwil had ever seen. It might have been white, but now it looked like a greasy rag, caked with mud.


    Leira pinched the filthy thing between her fingers and sneered. ¡°I know. It¡¯s disgusting. Is there a shop nearby? I¡¯m past due for something nice. And I¡¯m starving. And I bet you are too.¡±


    Gwil clutched his stomach as it grumbled. ¡°There¡¯s a shop and a pub in the village up that way-¡±


    He shook his head as if beset by gnats. ¡°Wait a second, lady. You killed me! What¡¯s up with that?¡±


    This time Leira¡¯s click of the tongue was sharp with irritability. ¡°I thought we were past that.¡±


    ¡°Nuh-uh,¡± Gwil said. He pointed an accusatory finger at her. ¡°I bet you knew I¡¯d be stupid and confused after I died. You thought you could fool me.¡±


    Leira folded both hands over her heart and fluttered her lone eye. ¡°Noo. Of course not. What does it matter anyway? Becoming Hallowed calls for celebration! Let¡¯s go to that pub. Do you have any money?¡±


    ¡°But I heard you say you were surprised I came back to life. How do I know you won¡¯t do some more murdering in the village?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯d you kill me?¡±


    Leira sighed. ¡°Fine. See, I had to kill someone to escape from the flower. I was trapped inside the damn thing for three months.¡±


    ¡°Three months?¡± Gwil scratched at the scruff on his chin. ¡°Alright. That¡¯s a pretty good reason.¡±


    Leira gaped. ¡°Really? Are you stupid or way too forgiving?¡±


    ¡°I dunno, but you must¡¯ve been going crazy in there, so it¡¯s fine.¡±


    She snapped her fingers. ¡°You got that right. I was starving. Lead the way to the pub!¡±


    ¡°No, no,¡± Gwil said, waving his hands. ¡°The villagers don¡¯t like me, and they¡¯d hate you. You¡¯re too strange and dirty.¡±


    ¡°Tch. I don¡¯t care,¡± Leira said. ¡°And you should know, you¡¯re gonna need my help. No living mortal will be able to perceive your existence for nine months.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said, nodding emphatically. ¡°You¡¯ll be like a ghost.¡±


    Gwil looked at his hands again. They seemed solid.


    ¡°I made that up,¡± Leira sang. ¡°I¡¯m a perfectly normal living mortal. If it were true, I wouldn¡¯t be able to see you, would I? Just a bit of gestational humor because you were reborn.¡±


    Gwil stared at her for a moment. ¡°I have food and clothes and a bath at my house. We¡¯ll go there.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want your ugly clothes. You look like a vagrant. I said I wanted something nice. Do you know how to cook?¡±


    ¡°I have a kitchen.¡±


    ¡°Onward!¡± Leira marched toward the embankment that Gwil had clambered down.


    Back on the path, they headed toward Gwil¡¯s windmill. Leira hummed as they strolled along.


    ¡°Are you a Hallow too?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°No, I wish,¡± Leira said. ¡°My circumstances are unique.¡±


    ¡°Damn,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I was hoping you could show me. Shouldn¡¯t I have some magic or something? I feel normal.¡±


    She scoffed. ¡°You think the stuff you hear stories about comes easy? Nirva is a fickle, dangerous thing. You¡¯ll need to learn to wield it, and that¡¯s a lifelong pursuit.¡±


    ¡°Nirva?¡± Gwil said. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    Leira spun on her heel. ¡°You¡¯re all excited to become a Hallow and you don¡¯t even know what Nirva is? You¡¯re weird and dumb.¡±


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°All I know is that Hallows are undead people that use magic.¡±


    Leira laughed and patted Gwil on the back in a very condescending manner. ¡°I can¡¯t believe that there are people just¡­ living in the middle of nowhere, completely ignorant to the wider world.¡±


    ¡°What is it, though?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°Ahh, well.¡± Leira scrunched up her nose. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ hm¡­ erm¡­ It¡¯s¡­¡± She blushed. ¡°It¡¯s not so easy to describe with words, and I¡¯m no expert. I¡¯m not Hallowed, after all. But it¡¯s some sort of magical energy. Or maybe a force? Right, Styzia Nierva¡ªthe Black River of Bliss that surrounds the Hells. That¡¯s where the word comes from.¡±


    She started walking again, and Gwil fell in step alongside her.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t really tell me anything,¡± he said.


    She twirled a lock of hair around her finger. ¡°Wait, lemme think. Nirva can only be channeled by Hallows. And it¡¯s very diverse in form. See, that¡¯s why I¡¯m having a hard time explaining. Whatever impossible feats you¡¯ve heard of Hallowed people performing¡ªit¡¯s all Nirva. It can be bizarre or downright whacky. I heard of some guy whose Invoke was to turn himself into a giant apple, as big as a house. Do you have any fruit at your place?¡±


    ¡°But what is it?¡±


    Leira shrugged. ¡°Hell if I know. I doubt anyone in the World has that answer. I¡¯ve met a lot of Hallows actually, and none of them had a damn clue about the¡­¡± She fluttered her hand, searching for the word. ¡°Metaphysics. All that matters is what you can do and what you do with it.¡±


    They emerged from the thick of the woods and crossed the field to the windmill.


    ¡°You¡¯re not very helpful,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Piss off! I¡¯m starving. Three months without a single bite of food.¡±

 Chapter Two – Breaking Bread

    Leira refused to speak, having declared that she would not do so until she ate. She was resolute despite Gwil¡¯s badgering.


    He satisfied her demand with bread and cheese and then set to making a beef stew. As he clanged about, Gwil barraged the flower-eyed woman with questions. Reverie didn¡¯t get many visitors, and he¡¯d never had a guest over.


    ¡°Do you know why some people come back to life?¡±


    ¡°I already told you I don¡¯t,¡± Leira said. ¡°Stop rephrasing the same questions. Just count yourself lucky. Even you miserable islanders must know what awaits the dead.¡±


    Gwil glanced at her while stirring the pot. ¡°What? The Hells?¡±


    Leira pulled her cheeks down to make herself look ghoulish. ¡°The Nine Hells. Eternal damnation, eternal suffering, yada-yada. Can you wrap your tiny head around that? Endless, inescapable pain, forever. You dodged it by a hair.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, because of you,¡± Gwil said. ¡°If that¡¯s true, that¡¯s pretty shitty. But it sounds like nonsense.¡±


    She tore off some bread with her teeth and talked through a mouthful. ¡°Forgive me for invalidating your ignorance-mired opinion, but people have journeyed there and returned. I¡¯ve met witnesses and escapees both. The World is just that cruel.¡± She ran a finger through the lotus petals as she swallowed. ¡°The Apocalypse had consequences.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s stupid,¡± Gwil said. He filled two bowls with stew and set them down on the table. He was starving too, and the next several minutes passed without a word as they stuffed their faces.


    Gwil wiped his mouth. ¡°So, there¡¯s no way of knowing who could become a Hallow? Or why it happens?¡±


    Leira picked a fleck of carrot out of her hair and flicked it away. ¡°I bet it¡¯s just luck.¡±


    Gwil brandished his spoon at her. ¡°You don¡¯t know very much, do you?¡±


    She pointed her own spoon back at him. ¡°You¡¯re the one who¡¯s so damned curious. These aren¡¯t little trivialities that you¡¯re asking about. People have been killing and dying for those sorts of answers for a thousand years. No one knows these things. No one ordinary, at least.¡±


    Gwil scraped up the last of his stew and pushed the bowl away. Leira was staring at him. He raised his eyebrows at her.


    ¡°What are you being shy for? Bring the whole pot over, eh?¡±


    Gwil took it from the stove and set it down in front of her. Forgoing a bowl, she stood and ate from the pot with the ladle.


    ¡°What happened to your big flower?¡±


    ¡°See, there¡¯s something I do know. I killed the fucking thing. It was all fat and happy because it was devouring you and I-¡± She cut across her throat with her thumb.


    Gwil pointed at his own eye and nodded at her. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look done with you.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about me,¡± she said with a wave. ¡°My turn. Why were you happy about becoming Hallowed?¡±


    Gwil grinned and smacked the tabletop. ¡°Cause now I get to leave these islands. It¡¯s funny. Years ago, someone warned me about this. That I might die.¡±


    Leira leaned forward. ¡°Really?¡±


    Gwil nodded. ¡°That¡¯s why I was wondering about that stuff. The lady who raised me. Her name was Caris. This was her windmill. I¡¯ll tell you something weird and awful¡­¡±


    ***


    The bread knife fell from Gwil¡¯s hand. Two dead men lay on the floor. Blood gushed from roughly sawn throats. It pooled beneath Gwil¡¯s feet, sickly warm between his toes. He could not move.


    Even as they bled, the corpses disintegrated into ash. Smoke trailed from their smoldering flesh. They wore robes woven of tiny chains. The metal was melting. Their foreheads bore matching brands¡ªa crescent moon with an eye in its embrace.


    Caris was on all fours, hacking and spasming. Blood poured from her midsection like a little waterfall.


    She tried to speak, and the garbled wheeze sent a chill down Gwil¡¯s spine. He snapped to attention, knelt beside her.


    Caris grabbed his shoulders with her bony fingers. She pulled herself up, so they were face-to-face. Gwil staggered beneath her weight. Her fingernails dug into his skin.


    ¡°Stop crying and listen, child.¡± She drew short, sharp breaths between every word. Blood dribbled down her chin. ¡°Stay alive, Gwil. Stay alive no matter what. Run. Hide. Live safe and quiet.¡± Her eyes rolled back into her skull.


    She bared her teeth. Her gums were white as chalk. ¡°If you ever become a Hallow¡­¡± A fit stole her voice.


    The wound in her abdomen was so deep and dark. Drip, drip, drip, like a ticking clock.


    Her head lolled and she went limp. Gwil cried out as he caught her under her arms.


    The old woman made a fist and burrowed her knuckles into the wound. A jolt surged through her body.


    ¡°If you become a Hallow, go north. North to Ultima Thule. Find Ashkana. Find her.¡± Beseeching, desperate eyes drilled into him.


    ¡°I will,¡± Gwil said through tears.


    She slumped again, bringing Gwil down with her. They laid together in a heap.


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± Leira interjected.


    ¡°Wait, that¡¯s not all.¡±


    Caris had stopped breathing.


    ¡°The strength of your fate killed those servants,¡± a voice said.


    Gwil looked. A man was standing in the corner of the room. No sound or flash had marked his arrival. He had simply appeared.


    ¡°Bravo,¡± the man said, clapping leather-clad hands. ¡°Those men were fierce warriors.¡±


    He wore a suit of pale gray armor, and though it looked hewn from pure stone, it was immaculate, carved to evoke a draconic visage.


    His skin was as black as onyx, his lone eye like a pearl, his hair like rubies. He had a soft, youthful face.


    A knife stuck out of his other eye. Scar tissue grew around the silver blade. Its handle was made of bone.


    The man threw his head back and howled with laughter. ¡°Is it finally time? Come over here.¡±


    Gwil didn¡¯t move. He was frozen, staring at Caris¡¯s vacant face. Her eyes were still open, but the blood had stopped trickling.


    The man sighed. His armor clattered as he crossed the room. His footsteps shook the whole house.


    His shadow fell over Gwil. Bright sunlight poured through the window. Gwil thought it strange that something like this had happened during the daytime.


    Clawed fingers closed around the collar of Gwil¡¯s shirt and ripped it down the middle. It fell to the floor, soaked up the blood.


    The man knelt and touched the deep, divot-shaped scar over Gwil¡¯s heart. ¡°Fascinating. Look at how you cling to life. That fickle bitch usually turns her back on desperation, but she took your hand.¡± He laughed again. ¡°You don¡¯t even remember, do you?¡±


    He stood and brushed his hands off. ¡°I think you¡¯ll cause an upheaval. It would be a shame to smother such excitement in the crib. Your life is yours. Do with it what you will.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    And then he was gone.


    Gwil didn¡¯t move, except to squint against the sunlight.


    He heard voices outside. Familiar ones. The villagers, drawn by the commotion. The door creaked open.


    ***


    Leira looked like she was about to burst. She rocked back and forth in her chair, smiling like a lunatic, which Gwil thought a strange response.


    ¡°Ashkana!¡± she yelped. ¡°What have you got to do with her? She¡¯s my hero!¡± She clamped her hand over her mouth, mortified. ¡°My god, I killed you.¡±


    Gwil jumped up, sending his chair skidding back. ¡°You know her? I¡¯ve never heard the name besides that day.¡±


    Leira¡¯s elation evaporated. Her normal eye twitched. ¡°She¡¯s literally the most infamous person in all the World. How, how, how have you never heard of her? I swear, I¡¯d go insane if I lived on these bumfuck islands.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Why¡¯s she your hero then?¡±


    She began talking very quickly. ¡°Because Ashkana is a hero. The whole World¡¯s hero. The Leviathan says she¡¯s an incarnation of Shiva or Sekhmet or whatever they feel like fear-mongering with. The Lady of the Wastes, the Unholy Traitress, the devilwoman who will bring ruin to the World! But the Leviathan is the real monster, so she must be incredible. Wait¡ªplease tell me you know what the Leviathan is.¡±


    Gwil nodded. ¡°Sure, I do. We have a school here. And a library. And old books and a radio. The Leviathan is the World¡¯s ruling body.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure if you could read,¡± Leira muttered. ¡°Well, good, I would¡¯ve walked out if you didn¡¯t know that. Actually, I wouldn¡¯t, because Ashkana must care about you. She¡¯s the leader of the Vermin! The only force in all the World with the guts to stand against the Leviathan.¡±


    ¡°Oh man,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to find someone like that? I didn¡¯t even know the Leviathan was so bad.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re as evil as evil gets,¡± Leira said. ¡°It¡¯s their fault the World is so shitty. I guess there¡¯s just no reason for them to have any presence in a worthless place like this, so you wouldn¡¯t know.¡±


    Leira banged the ladle against the side of the pot. ¡°As an honorary member of the Vermin, I hereby charge myself with delivering you to Ashkana, Lady of the Wastes. Will you accompany me willingly, or do I have to bring you by force?¡±


    Gwil waved his hands. ¡°I¡¯ll come. I was gonna go on my own, y¡¯know! It was Caris¡¯s dying wish. I have to do it.¡±


    ¡°Yeesh,¡± Leira said. ¡°Yeah, sorry something so awful happened to you. How¡¯d you think you managed to kill those two men?¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°I dunno. It didn¡¯t matter. They killed her first. I was scared, I think. I must have hesitated. I can¡¯t ever forgive myself.¡±


    ¡°How old were you?¡± Leira asked.


    ¡°Twelve,¡± Gwil said.


    Leira pounded her fist on the table. ¡°You¡¯re even dumber than I thought if you think that¡¯s your fault at all!¡±


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°It can¡¯t be fixed.¡±


    ¡°It did matter, though,¡± Leira said. ¡°Sounds like that freaky knife guy spared you because of it. You must¡¯ve impressed him.¡± She let out a long whistle. ¡°That is crazy. So, you just stayed here even after that lady told you to run and hide?¡± Her eyes went to the dark stains on the wooden floor.


    ¡°Well, yeah. But I didn¡¯t have anywhere to go. I was just a kid. And the knight said it was okay.¡±


    ¡°Right, but he obviously orchestrated the murder.¡±


    ¡°Exactly, so the danger was passed, and this was the safest place.¡±


    Leira frowned. ¡°I dunno if that makes sense.¡±


    ¡°It was true until you showed up,¡± Gwil pointed out. ¡°Nothing ever happened after that day.¡±


    Leira grimaced. ¡°I feel bad for killing you now. I made you break your promise.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Gwil said. ¡°It¡¯s done. And I was sick of waiting around. I need to find Ashkana, but you know what I¡¯ve always wanted to do?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°I wanna see the whole entire World. Everything, all the way to the edges. Meet all kinds of people. That¡¯s my dream.¡±


    Leira laughed. ¡°That¡¯s perfect, cause Ashkana is probably really far away by now.¡±


    ¡°Ultima Thule,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Do you know it?¡±


    ¡°Never heard of it. I hope it¡¯s Ashkana¡¯s castle. Either way, it¡¯ll be quite the journey, because we¡¯re in the southern hemisphere.¡±


    ¡°The southern what?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Some school,¡± she muttered. ¡°How old are you, anyway?¡±


    ¡°Nineteen,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Good. I¡¯m older by a year. That means you have to do everything I say.¡±


    Gwil clapped his hands together. ¡°Woo! What a relief. I always thought I¡¯d fall down the stairs or get mauled by a jaguar or something. It¡¯s finally over with. I¡¯m excited!¡±


    Leira watched him, twirling her hair around her finger. ¡°You really seem like a bit of a dolt, though. I wonder why you¡¯d be so important to Ashkana, but who am I to question her wisdom? Damn, I bet she¡¯ll be hard to find, though. She¡¯s eluded the Leviathan for three centuries.¡±


    ¡°What? She¡¯s three hundred years old?¡±


    ¡°At least,¡± Leira said. ¡°She¡¯s amazing. I can¡¯t wait to meet her. Can we leave today?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I¡¯ve been dying to leave for my whole life.¡±


    Leira laughed. ¡°Good one. Hey, you¡¯re not a wimp, are you? You¡¯ve never left these islands?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Cause it would¡¯ve been risky to go wandering off. But I¡¯ve done lots of stuff. Before Caris died, we were always island hopping all throughout Alnam, trekking through the wilderness. And I¡¯ve kept doing it since. There¡¯s a lot of crazy things here. Beasts and stuff. She taught me all about surviving and fighting.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like a good way of keeping you safe,¡± Leira said.


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°Caris was strong. She strangled a shark with her bare hands once and then we ate it.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Okay,¡± Leira said. ¡°Strange lady. All of this is strange, actually.¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°Nothing happened yet. Let¡¯s pack some stuff.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky I came along, or you would¡¯ve rotted away here.¡±


    ***


    Gwil and Leira dragged two overstuffed backpacks out of the windmill. They¡¯d scoured the place for foodstuffs, clothes, tools, and whatever else seemed useful. It didn¡¯t take long; the windmill was sparse, and most of the stuff was crap left behind by whoever lived there before Caris. Gwil always felt like a guest.


    They walked back inside to give the place a final once over.


    ¡°Any goodbyes you have to make?¡± Leira said.


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°Those folks¡¯ll be glad to see me gone. I¡¯ll leave a note.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I feel so much better,¡± Leira said with a twirl. ¡°That cold bath did wonders. Normally I hate that, but I was so groggy.¡±


    Gwil glanced at her as he searched for a scrap of paper. She was in a much better state. She¡¯d scrubbed off that crusty slime, and some color had returned to her skin. She¡¯d also picked out some clothes¡ªa pair of chino pants that barely went past her knees, a wool shirt, and a thick canvas jacket. She¡¯d complained about the selection but seemed to have forgotten her desire to buy a dress.


    Gwil wrote:


    I¡¯m going away. Let someone who needs a place live in the windmill. Thanks, Gwil


    P.S. The doubloons are for my tab with Erwin.


    He folded a five-doubloon coin into the bottom of the note.


    ¡°Oo, you have money?¡± Leira said.


    Gwil opened his coin purse, revealing a total of eighteen doubloons. ¡°Not really. Damn, if you¡¯d have stopped me before I went to the market, I¡¯d have a bit more. I bought a bunch of stuff that¡¯ll go bad, too. Wait.¡±


    He added to the note:


    P.P.S. Take all the food and whatever else. It¡¯s all yours.


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go.¡±


    Gwil wedged the note under the knocker, gave the old, dusty windmill a last look, and closed the door behind them.


    ***


    The road to the next island wound its way up to an overlook from where they could see the whole of Reverie village. Gwil knew he hadn¡¯t always lived there, but he couldn¡¯t remember anything of the time before.


    Things were better when Caris was alive. They hardly ever stayed in the village, always exploring and sparring and hunting beasts. Only after she died did Gwil realize that his upbringing was unusual.


    Mayor Guice had allowed Gwil to keep living in the windmill. And his wife, Margaret, even tutored Gwil for a few years. Once he was old enough, he worked with the lumberjacks so that he could buy food and stuff.


    Lonely, boring, frustrating. Just running in circles. He always felt trapped, stuck between a rock and a hard place¡ªhis desire to see the World and his refusal to betray Caris¡¯s dying wish. So, he waited and waited.


    The best part was he hadn¡¯t even died doing something stupid.


    Gwil had yet to stop smiling. Finally free.


    ¡°Do you know where we¡¯re going?¡± Leira asked.


    He nodded. ¡°I know Alnam like the back of my hand, but once we get to the mainland, I¡¯ve got nothing. Have you traveled much?¡±


    ¡°A fair bit, yeah,¡± Leira said. ¡°But I don¡¯t know this region. I floated all the way across the sea in the flower, and I was only semi-conscious, so I don¡¯t really know.¡±


    Gwil took a compass out of his pocket. Its casing was tarnished and rusty. He flicked the glass to dislodge the needle.


    ¡°Maybe we could buy a big map,¡± Gwil said.


    Leira scoffed. ¡°World maps are illegal. It¡¯s nearly impossible to get your hands on even a half-decent one. Lots of fakes.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Isolation, stagnation. The Leviathan wants to keep everyone in the dark as much as possible.¡±


    ¡°But we live here,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I hate that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit,¡± Leira said. A swathe of clouds parted, and Leira raised her hand against the blaring sunset. ¡°Damn, it¡¯ll be dark soon.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll still make it to the mainland by tomorrow evening,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Reverie¡¯s only the second island, so we¡¯re not far out. We¡¯ll cross the bridge to Brakker tonight and then camp. And Brakker isn¡¯t too big, so we¡¯ll get to its other coast by midday. Mikara is right across the strait.¡±


    ¡°Mikara. That¡¯s the mainland?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s huge, I think. But the name¡¯s about all I know.¡± He grinned. ¡°I can¡¯t wait.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of it, but I didn¡¯t realize that¡¯s where I ended up,¡± Leira said.


    They followed the dirt path into the uninhabited, wild portion of Reverie. Faint evening shadows speckled the ground. Buzzing mosquitoes came out in force.


    ¡°Hey, what sort of monsters live on these islands?¡± Leira asked.


    ¡°Probably nothing compared to what¡¯s out there,¡± Gwil said, pointing in the direction of the mainland. ¡°But, uh, there¡¯s lots of spliced wildcats, big snakes, flutter-wraiths, talking axolotl, man-sized stag beetles-¡±


    ¡°Eee!¡± Leira squealed. ¡°I hate giant bugs. Small ones, sure, but.¡±


    ¡°Noo,¡± Gwil said. ¡°The beetles are the least dangerous of all those.¡±


    ¡°There were some unbelievable monsters while I was crossing the sea,¡± Leira said. ¡°The lotus nearly got eaten four or five times.¡±


    ¡°Woah, how¡¯d you survive?¡±


    ¡°Ha! That thing is so poisonous, even the giant squid died the moment it closed its beak. Lightning started blasting out of its corpse.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s cool! What were you doing out there, anyway?¡±


    ¡°Running,¡± Leira muttered. ¡°Oh shit! We don¡¯t have any weapons.¡±


    ¡°We have forks and knives,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Do you know how dangerous the World is?¡± Leira laughed. ¡°We¡¯re probably gonna die.¡±


    Gwil laughed with her, and once they got going, they couldn¡¯t stop. His stomach fluttered, and he felt light as a feather. His blood raced through his veins, pulsing. ¡°This is gonna be fun.¡±


    ¡°I should¡¯ve grabbed that shovel from your house,¡± Leira said. She clasped her hands and cackled. ¡°Imagine, you go to fight someone, and their weapon is the shovel they¡¯ll use to dig your grave.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll pass a couple farms,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll find a pitchfork or something.¡±


    ¡°No, I won¡¯t settle for anything less than a shovel.¡±

 Chapter Three – The Last Island

    It was around midnight when they stopped to set up camp along Brakker¡¯s rocky coast. A full moon had allowed them to push a bit further.


    It hung high overhead, a crumbling white disc emblazoned with a spiky, arthropodan silhouette¡ªthe Pariah¡¯s Spine. Bits of glittering debris wreathed the moon¡¯s body, and above it hung the Martyr¡¯s Wound, a brilliant red gash from which poured swirling stellar clouds. The myth claimed it would bleed through eternity, such was the devotion of the sacrifice.


    A night where its spillage curtained the moon to bathe the World in crimson was considered precious. A so-called Sanguine Eclipse occasioned much celebration. They claimed it signaled great change and the turning of the ages.


    Tonight was not one of those nights. Apparently, Gwil had never seen one, despite Reverie having hosted a dozen of the spontaneous festivals on nights where the red tint beamed bright.


    Caris would spend the whole night scoffing to herself whenever that happened. She complained that people were just eager and desperate for piddling revelry. She¡¯d told Gwil that a true Sanguine Eclipse was a blinding nightmare, and that it had only happened twice, with the last having been three hundred years past.


    Sat beside the fire, Gwil leaned back on his hands, bits of gravel jabbing into his palms. Looking up at the black sea of stars, he wondered if he¡¯d ever get to see one of those eclipses. Sounded like it was past due.


    A metallic clang drew his eyes to Leira. Coincidentally enough, she had found a shovel, had actually tripped over the thing. It was lying on the ground outside an abandoned cabin, snagged in the thick of overgrown weeds.


    She clumsily swung the rusty, rotten shovel around, striking it against spires of rock. She yelped.


    Gwil ducked as the broken-off blade went spinning past his head.


    ¡°Oops!¡± Leira flung the handle into the sea and then came back to the fire. ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± she said as she sat down. ¡°If I actually needed to fight with that thing, we¡¯d be in trouble.¡±


    Gwil tilted his head.


    ¡°I can hold my own,¡± she said. ¡°But I don¡¯t fight like a brute. I¡¯m very elegant. You¡¯ll see soon enough, I¡¯m sure. It¡¯s you that has some work to do. Are you really gonna stab things with a fork when you could be using Nirva?¡±


    Gwil made a finger gun and aimed it at a tree. Nothing happened. ¡°What do I do?¡±


    ¡°How should I know?¡± she said, swatting at a mosquito. ¡°It¡¯s inside you. Figure it out.¡±


    Gwil stood up.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean now! Aren¡¯t you tired?¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± he said.


    ¡°Well-¡± Leira yawned and stretched her arms over her head. ¡°I¡¯m exhausted. Let¡¯s eat so I can sleep, then you go off and do that.¡±


    ***


    They made dry meat sandwiches to finish off the bread, which would¡¯ve molded soon. Then Leira shooed him away.


    Gwil wandered off into the wilderness. He didn¡¯t need to pay any attention. He knew these parts well. But he¡¯d always try to fool himself like this, with these little windows of faux freedom.


    It never worked. The illusion never held. His heart yearned for the unknown, to plunge into blind depths.


    He scaled an outcrop of rock that he¡¯d climbed many times before. Brakker had the roughest, steepest terrain of the islands, so Caris had brought him here often.


    Reaching the top, Gwil kicked away a slug and sat down cross-legged at the end of the jut.


    White-capped waves slashed through the velvet. He often liked to watch the ships along the Mikaran coast, but there were none to be seen tonight. That was lucky, because the swells were towering, and the wind was gusting. A storm brewed. Gwil hoped it wouldn¡¯t affect their crossing.


    He took his jacket off. It was a cold night, but he was drenched with sweat. Ever since he died, he¡¯d felt feverish. Not sick, but frantic. Heart-thumping, mouth dry.


    He forced himself to take deep, slow breaths. Now that he could reach for the horizon, he felt smaller, and the World looked bigger than ever.


    North, eh? Sorry, Caris, but I hope it¡¯s really far.


    With a start, Gwil realized something that made him feel stupid. He¡¯d spent all that time hoping he¡¯d become Hallowed without ever giving any thought to what it might entail. This ¡®Nirva¡¯ felt obscure and unfathomable.


    What did he have to go on? Dubious, drunken tales he¡¯d half-overheard in Erwin¡¯s pub when the odd traveler crossed through Alnami. Just scraps of the World beyond.


    Damn. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He was supposed to be concentrating.


    There was some strangeness inside. An elusive tingling. It felt like that instant where you first touch a hot stove, before it burns.


    Mosquitoes kept buzzing in his ear and landing on his face. And he kept fidgeting with the weeds and bits of rock beneath his fingers.


    Gwil bit at the inside of his lip until it drew blood. And then he heard whispering. A voice out of the wind. One at first, then many. Calm at first, and then furious. It swelled into a swarming cacophony.


    Erratic emotions flooded his heart and head, aching and soothing, blooming and stabbing, too fleeting to measure. Sensations he¡¯d never known.


    Gwil clutched his hair as a splitting headache cleaved through his skull. The voices harmonized into a shriek of unbridled agony. It burned hotter than any fire.


    Everything and everywhere, infested by brutality. An array of tiny slivers opened across the sky. Those wounds were pristine, like skin sliced by a razor. Blackened blood, the hue of a dark garnet, oozed out and then poured. The earth drank it down.


    His tears kissed cool against his cheeks. Is this the World?


    The stars turned into butterflies with prismatic wings. Their fluttering created a song. Countless, they cast a spectrum of swirling color¡ªjoy, rage, love, sorrow, hope¡ªall haloed by the foul-blood agony.


    Quick footsteps. Gwil¡¯s eyes snapped open.


    He was falling from the cliff. He twisted as he fell and saw Leira, waving and smiling.


    She must have had a good reason.


    Six stories? A cluster of jagged rocks below. He would surely die. But it was taking forever. He fell so slowly.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Vapor trailed from his pores. His flesh burned. It felt like he was smothered in flames, but it didn¡¯t hurt.


    Whatever tricks his mind played, the ground was close. He threw his hands out ahead of his dive. They shimmered with something ethereal.


    Terrible impacts ripped through his wrists. He felt his bones shift. Pain lanced through his arms.


    But he had caught himself, landing in a miraculous handstand with both hands braced against sharp peaks of rock. Blood dripped down their surfaces.


    Still upside down, he tilted his head to see that he¡¯d been a hair¡¯s breadth from having his skull skewered.


    The fire went out. Gwil¡¯s arms buckled, and he fell into the rocks. He hit his head with a few inches of momentum rather than several stories, so that was okay. Just a bonk.


    Lying in a twisted sprawl, he laughed. Everything felt so vivid. The stars shone bigger and brighter. The blustering wind tickled. The sea groaned.


    He wiggled his toes, shimmied his hips. Everything was intact. He brought his hands in front of his face. They were stained red with writhing scabs in the middle. Pieces of dried blood crumbled away to reveal fresh pink skin.


    ¡°Nice!¡± Leira screamed. Gwil looked up at her. She leaned over the precipice, holding out a thumbs up, beaming. Then she started clapping. ¡°Wait, I¡¯m coming down.¡±


    Oh good. She wasn¡¯t trying to kill me, Gwil thought as he stood and brushed himself off.


    He took a couple of shaky, stumbling steps. He felt drunk on adrenaline and disbelief. That was Nirva. He looked at his hands again. All that remained of the wounds were faint outlines marked by peeling skin.


    Leira came running around the side of the cliff. ¡°Don¡¯t be mad, please! I knew you wouldn¡¯t get hurt.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t mad,¡± Gwil said.


    Leira stopped in her tracks. ¡°But I threw you off a cliff.¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°I trust you.¡±


    She stared at him. ¡°Right. Well, remember I said I¡¯ve met a lot of Hallows? I know a bit more than I let on. And I knew that a near-death experience was the best way to awaken Nirva in a virgin Hallow.¡±


    Gwil grimaced. ¡°Is that really what it¡¯s called?¡±


    ¡°Please,¡± Leira said. ¡°See, I couldn¡¯t warn you, or it wouldn¡¯t have been a surprise. So¡­ voila! There you go. Do you feel different?¡±


    He nodded. The whispers had grown so faint that Gwil was not sure whether he actually still heard them. ¡°It¡¯s in my bones. And my blood feels like it¡¯s on fire.¡±


    ¡°The basics will come naturally,¡± Leira said with a wave. ¡°Durability, strength, healing, heightened senses. It¡¯s the sorcerous aspect that you¡¯ll have to work for.


    ¡°Most Hallows only get one, and as far as I know, it¡¯s preordained. An Invoke, it¡¯s called. That¡¯s the wild stuff, like elemental manipulation, telepathy, manifestation, what have you.¡±


    Gwil thought his eyes might pop out. ¡°Show me more.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited,¡± Leira said, throwing her hands up. ¡°I hardly know anything worth a damn. Just little tricks I¡¯ve picked up. Lemme think.¡±


    They made it back to their camp. The sea crashed against the base of the cliff, spitting up spouts of sea spray. Hands on her hips, Leira scanned the rocky shelf. She picked out a jagged stone spire and clapped her hand against it. It was as thick around as Gwil¡¯s waist.


    ¡°Punch this until you break it,¡± Leira said.


    Gwil raised his eyebrows. ¡°Wat.¡±


    Caris had taught him to fight. He could throw a good punch. But this was a big chunk of stone.


    ¡°You don¡¯t think you can?¡± Leira said, her eyeflower fluttering in the wind.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Then do it. Maybe it¡¯ll take all night. Maybe you¡¯ll break all your fingers. Struggle makes it flow.¡±


    Gwil scrunched his face up and punched the rock with all his might.


    He couldn¡¯t say whether the impact to his wrist or his shredded knuckles hurt more.


    ¡°Shit,¡± he whimpered, shaking out his wrist.


    ¡°Again,¡± Leira barked.


    Half-heartedly, Gwil punched the sharp and seemingly indestructible spire. Right fist, left, on and on. His punches turned slow and timid. The misty aura didn¡¯t form. He felt foolish. His blood painted the rock, and his wounds were screaming.


    ¡°C¡¯mon!¡± Leira shrieked. ¡°Beat the shit out of it!¡±


    Gwil closed his eyes and focused on the crashing sea. Right, left, right, left. His wrist cracked, splintered, like cracking kernels of corn. Burning numbness, no feeling in his fingers. He couldn¡¯t hold a fist; he felt his hand flopping as he drew it back and threw it forward again.


    Upon impact, rigidity stole through his hand, shocked it back to life. He kept his eyes closed, kept punching. The pain vanished, turned to ash. His fists landed in time with his heartbeat.


    The ages had molded this rock, but it was only a natural thing. It could break.


    Right, left, again, and again, his fists as uncaring as the stone itself. Gwil couldn¡¯t feel his arms, couldn¡¯t feel anything besides the overwhelming heat. This strength was not his own.


    Craaack.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let up!¡± Leira yelled. ¡°Finish it!¡±


    She didn¡¯t need to say it. He hadn¡¯t even opened his eye a wink to check the damage. The sound of the crack had only steeled his resolve.


    The translucent aura sheathed his hands like liquid-hot wax. With every blow, he could feel the ethereal substance¡ªthe Nirva¡ªseeping into the stone, eroding the innards.


    Each of his next two punches wrought two more satisfying cracks. The next one would be the last. Gwil opened his eyes and unleashed.


    A chorus of voices screamed. Prismatic sparks erupted at the point of impact.


    The rock spire shattered into dust and bits. All that remained was the stump.


    ¡°Ooh! Did you see that?¡±


    Leira was beaming. She snapped her fingers. ¡°Oh no, I missed it.¡±


    Gwil doubled over to laugh and then toppled face first onto the ground. Everything was spinning and ah¡­ so nice to lie down. It felt like his arms hung by tattered threads. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can¡­¡± He yawned, his cheek scraping against the gravel.


    ¡°Yeah, Nirva can be rough on the body,¡± Leira said. ¡°And you have no tolerance for it. Gotta break yourself in.¡±


    ¡°How long did that take?¡± Gwil slurred.


    ¡°Four hours,¡± Leira said. ¡°I took a nap. It¡¯s almost dawn.¡±


    Gwil opened his eye a crack to see that it was light out and then groaned. ¡°Can you throw me a blanket?¡±


    ¡°No point,¡± Leira said.


    He was already asleep.


    ***


    Gwil awoke to the pattering of rain on canvas. The soothing rhythm made the prospect of opening his eyes feel dreadful. He scratched at the pit-shaped scar on his chest. So cozy, wrapped tight in his blanket and¡­


    Unfamiliar surroundings eventually poked through his sleepiness. Gwil rubbed at bleary eyes and propped himself up on an elbow, his head grazing the canvas. The tent¡¯s musty smell was comforting. He¡¯d spent hundreds of nights under the shabby, patchwork thing. Leira must have dragged him inside. How nice of her.


    Gwil stretched. His shoulders ached, but he felt so refreshed. The skin on his knuckles was raw, but there were no wounds. He crawled out of the tent and saw that Leira had also raised a tarp over the fire.


    It was a merciless downpour, with the rain whipped into windswept funnels.


    ¡°Fucking hell,¡± she said. ¡°You slept ages. It¡¯s past noon.¡±


    She laid on her side, poking at the dying fire with a stick. ¡°I thought to let you rest until the storm passed but¡­¡± She made a needless gesture at the terrible weather.


    Ink black clouds spanned the sky from horizon to horizon.


    Gwil shrieked in a most embarrassing manner and then clamped his hands over his mouth.


    Leira had a guest at the fire. A two-headed jaguar slept beside her, with one head covered beneath its paws, and the other flopped to the side, mouth open to reveal dagger teeth and a lolling tongue.


    The flower-eyed woman cackled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. She¡¯ll be out for two days at least.¡± Leira scratched one of the beast¡¯s chins. ¡°That¡¯s what she gets for trying to steal our food. I¡¯m surprised my screaming didn¡¯t wake you.¡±


    Wide awake now, Gwil said, ¡°How¡¯d you do that?¡±


    ¡°I told you before¡ªelegance.¡± The petals of the lotus flower flapped in the gusting wind.


    They prepared breakfast¡ªlunch for Leira¡ªand packed up as they ate, leaving the tarp for last. They left some scraps for the jaguar.


    Gwil had intended to go along the coast¡ªthe slower, but less arduous, path. With the rain, he decided they¡¯d better cut through the jungle.


    The rainfall made for a symphony¡ªpattering droplets thumping against the leaves, streams of water trickling into the mud. What landed on their heads was a misting.


    Gwil pulled aside a bundle of branches and let Leira pass. Something had been prickling at him since he woke up. ¡°I hear voices when the Nirva is working.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard about that,¡± she said with a shrug. ¡°Ignore it, I think. It¡¯s a small price compared to what you¡¯ll be able to do.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯d you know so many Hallows?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°I grew up in an evil cult,¡± Leira said. Then she grinned like a demon. ¡°Just kidding. But don¡¯t ask me stuff like that. I¡¯ll say what I want to say. Nothing about me matters except my capacity to serve as one of Ashkana¡¯s Vermin.¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± she sang. ¡°I have a question, too, though. And feel free to tell me to eat shit the way I just did to you.


    ¡°You really don¡¯t know anything about who this Caris woman was? Why did she raise you? What happened to your parents?¡±


    Gwil scrunched his face up and shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Or don¡¯t remember. And asking questions only earned me a smack. Caris was¡­ strange. She hated everyone in the World, I think. It was like she just wanted to be a hermit or something, but she was stuck with me.¡±


    Leira was silent as they clambered up a slippery, muddy slope. At the top she said, ¡°It¡¯s weird. Hallows are rare, but there¡¯re still hundreds¡ªprobably thousands¡ªin the World. Why would it matter so much if you turned into one? And she knew you would. She had to have known.¡±


    Gwil shrugged.


    ¡°Whatever,¡± Leira said. ¡°Ashkana will know everything.¡±

 Chapter Four – The Old Man in the Sea

    The rain¡¯s allure had worn off. Its fury was just appalling now. The droplets fell like stones; sprays of mist scoured their faces like shards of glass. The trees bent to the ground, as if the World was tipping over.


    But the brunt of the storm seemed distant. Jagged bolts and white flashes etched the horizon. Far-off thunder rumbled, low and persistent. The black clouds streamed across the sky like a rising tide, headed northward.


    Leira screamed. Though they were beside each other, the sound was faint, crushed by the wind.


    She grabbed Gwil¡¯s arm. ¡°There¡¯s a fucking naked creep up there,¡± she hissed, pointing into the trees.


    Gwil crouched and squinted, spotted something pink and fleshy. ¡°Shh.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t shush me.¡±


    Gwil called out, ¡°Top o¡¯ the mornin¡¯ to ya. My name is Norman.¡±


    Through the leaves, the pink body shifted. ¡°I smell the grave. Call me Dave.¡±


    Gwil took Leira by the wrist, shushed her again, and led her through the brush into a small clearing. In the center, a man-sized axolotl lounged across a log, laying on its back with its little limbs sticking out. The long-torso creature had pale, white-pink flesh. It lifted its head to regard them¡ªwide mouth stuck in a big smile, black eyes beady and unblinking. These things always looked so innocent.


    ¡°Quick, are you Ixik?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Offence. Are you dense? I¡¯m Kixik. Stupid boy, one of her toys. Bad memory, no remedy.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t weep,¡± Leira whispered to Gwil. ¡°I¡¯ll put it to sleep.¡±


    Gwil shook his head frantically. ¡°Nice weather. We shouldn¡¯t dither,¡± he said. ¡°Ta-ta, wish you find a fish for your ma-ma.¡±


    The axolotl scrambled off the log and drew itself up onto its tiny hind legs, which quivered under the weight. The creature swayed as it stood.


    ¡°Don¡¯t go, bad flow. Miss him you will, bad for your thrill.¡±


    ¡°Let us be along, I hate this song,¡± Leira said as she tried to lead Gwil away. ¡°What the fuck? Why am I talking like that? Gwil!¡±


    The axolotl ripped one of its arms off and threw it at Leira. She caught it out of reflex, then screamed and dropped the squirming, bloody worm on the ground.


    The axolotl, however, had already regrown its limb, and was swinging its arms in a dance and humming a triumphant tune.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry, far-she,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Her weed. Nasty centipede. Queen is mean.¡±


    Leira gasped.


    ¡°Wow, you¡¯re like me now,¡± the creature squeaked, as it skittered over to Gwil. Leira backed away as the axolotl grabbed Gwil¡¯s finger with its tiny hand. ¡°How many arms? And it¡¯s no harm.¡±


    ¡°In for an arm, out for the farm,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°You have no mind, born from her wine,¡± the axolotl said, wiggling its body and flapping its big mouth. ¡°Fix the wish. You good, you kind. Mangle, unwind the bad maker¡¯s tangle. This place, gone without a trace. Spike in the heart, strike at their art.¡±


    ¡°Break it and shake?¡± Gwil said.


    The axolotl shook its head and then let its mouth hang open. ¡°Did you mention a fish for my mother? I can¡¯t believe I wasted my time with you when such a splendid opportunity was available. Good day!¡±


    The axolotl went down on all fours and hurried away.


    ¡°Bye,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Sir! I said good day, sir!¡± the creature snapped as it disappeared into the lush underbrush.


    Leira exhaled in a way that suggested a long-held breath. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡±


    ¡°I dunno,¡± Gwil said. ¡°They¡¯re weird. We got lucky, though. I got stuck with one for a whole day once. They can really mess with your head.¡±


    Leira stuck her finger in her ear and twisted it. ¡°You should¡¯ve let me knock it out.¡±


    ¡°No way,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Caris told me if you make one mad, they¡¯ll turn you into one of them.¡±


    ¡°Fucking hell, we should¡¯ve just run away!¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Noo. That makes them madder than anything else,¡± Gwil said. ¡°C¡¯mon, we better go before Ixik shows up. He¡¯s way smarter.¡±


    Leira ran ahead.


    ***


    They were soaking, muddy messes by the time they reached Brakker¡¯s far coast. Leira was on the verge of hysteria, and scary for it. Gwil had never heard such colorful language.


    She proved that her voice¡ªnormally sweet as a songbird¡¯s¡ªknew no bounds of volume or shrillness.


    The strait that separated Brakker and the Mikaran mainland was only a kilometer wide. But the sea was so violent, like some great undine threw a tantrum beneath the waves.


    The storm bellowed within the narrow channel; all its fury being funneled between the landmasses. Lightning flashed constantly, like a rippling sheet cast over the northern horizon.


    ¡°Damn.¡± Gwil had been hoping to find a boat on this beach. Small vessels often washed up here in various states of disrepair. He¡¯d always felt that they were taunting him, trying to lure him into leaving. If one had been here, it¡¯d been swept away.


    Failing that, he¡¯d thought they could build a raft. But challenging this storm with strung-together bits of driftwood was a laughable idea.


    ¡°I guess we gotta wait,¡± he said, scanning the beach for a place to hunker down.


    ¡°I¡¯m freezing,¡± Leira said. ¡°This is bullshit. Why would an island have cold weather? You¡¯re an idiot for living here.¡± Her teeth chattered with such force that her head was bouncing.


    ¡°At least it¡¯s not snowing,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Fuck off with that cheery shit,¡± she snapped. She plopped down and pulled the collar of her jacket over her head like a turtle.


    Gwil left her to stew in it and went to look around. They¡¯d be better off in the woods, but getting clobbered by a torn-out tree was a concern. He thought he remembered a safe spot somewhere nearby.


    It began to hail¡ªa barrage of coin-sized stones. He heard Leira launch into another tirade. Her voice would not be outdone by the howling wind.


    ¡°Gwil! Gwil! Gwilym!¡±


    Gwil hurried back out of the woods and spotted Leira¡¯s silhouette through the torrent. She had moved to the edge of the sea. ¡°What?¡± he called.


    She pointed at the water. ¡°Is that a fucking boat?¡±


    Gwil ran up to her, and sure enough, there was a small sailboat being thrown about by the waves. The thing was only visible when it crested a surging swell.


    Gwil laughed. ¡°What a lunatic!¡±


    The little dinghy was heeled on its side. A lone man struggled to stay on his feet as he fought with the sail. His wild gray hair streamed behind him like a flag.


    Gwil and Leira stared in silent awe as the sailor expertly¡ªor perhaps miraculously¡ªnavigated his plight.


    They both gasped as the dinghy was pitched into the air. Gwil glimpsed the man¡¯s face and saw that he was grinning from ear to ear.


    Though he was being rocked every which way, it became clear that the man intended to make landfall on Brakker. And against all odds, he was getting closer.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Leira fell to her knees. It had happened in the blink of an eye.


    A huge squid-shark breached the water within arm¡¯s reach of the dinghy. The monstrous fish dwarfed the boat. It twisted in the air, jaws gaping, face-tentacles whipping. The boat would be obliterated, the man devoured.


    The sailor drew his sword in a slash, and cut the beast clean in two. Both halves fell back into the water on either side of the boat. No blood spilled out, not one drop.


    Goosebumps pimpled across Gwil¡¯s skin. A void lingered in the blade¡¯s path, as if the man had cut away the essence of the World. The smile never left his face. The sound of his laughter carried on the wind.


    Gwil set off up the coast at a run. He very much wanted to meet this man.


    ¡°Idiot!¡± Leira called.


    The dinghy came whirling in atop a wave and then crashed down on the shore. The man stepped down as if he were stepping out his front door.


    He had dark-skin and his hair¡ªwhich fell halfway down his back¡ªwas dirty gray. His face was as rough and wrinkled as beaten leather. A short but unkempt beard covered his cheeks and chin. He would¡¯ve looked old and sorry except that he was cut like a heroic statue and his arms and chest were covered with gruesome scars. He had nothing at all on his person except his tattered pants and a sword that hung loose from a loop on his belt. The weapon was unimpressive, a rusted cutlass with a chipped tip.


    Gwil halted a dozen paces away. The stranger dragged his boat away from the waterline and then surveyed the beach, hands on his hips.


    Leira tore past at a full sprint, beelining for the old man. Pink wisps trailed from the eyeflower.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Gwil shouted.


    The old man said, ¡°Uh-oh,¡± and then waved his hand. Leira fell into a tumble. The gesture was so easy Gwil might have believed the wind had knocked Leira over.


    But the man¡¯s exertion of power had sucked the air out of Gwil¡¯s lungs. Unnatural heat rippled through the air. Nirva.


    Gwil ran to help Leira up, keeping his eyes trained on the stranger. If he¡¯s hostile¡­ Leira was shivering.


    But the man made no move except to put his hands up and laugh. ¡°Hello there, friends. I tell ya, I didn¡¯t expect a welcoming party in this weather.


    Gwil kept his arm around Leira¡¯s shoulder, ready to scoop her up and run.


    The old man put his hands together and bowed his head slightly. ¡°Sorry ¡®bout that, young lady. But you looked keen on ripping out my throat, and fierce enough to do it without a second thought.¡±


    Leira buried her face in her hands and shook her head.


    Gwil tensed. ¡°That was some impressive sailing,¡± he said, raising his voice against the wind.


    ¡°Har! I¡¯m too old. Thought that shark had me dead. Call me Skuld.¡± The man held out his hand but stayed where he was, allowing Gwil to approach.


    Leira looked up. ¡°Sorry,¡± she muttered. ¡°I was scared.¡±


    Skuld nodded. ¡°You¡¯re smart for that.¡±


    Gwil stepped forward and shook Skuld¡¯s hand. His skin was as rough as rusted metal. ¡°So, what brings you to Alnam, Skuld?¡±


    ¡°The goddamn wind!¡± Skuld bellowed. ¡°I was aiming for Arleen, but the tide dragged me here.¡±


    ¡°Arleen?¡± Leira said, her voice steady again. ¡°You¡¯re going that far on that shitty raft?¡±


    ¡°Watch it, miss,¡± Skuld said, smiling. ¡°That thing carried me halfway around the World. And what about you two? Storm got ya down?¡±


    ¡°I live here, actually,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But we¡¯re on our way to the mainland.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Skuld said, scratching at his chin. He looked around, frowning, and then nodded to himself. ¡°Aye. Do you guys like fish?¡±


    ***


    Skuld had waded into the sea and caught three fish with his bare hands. It took him less than two minutes.


    Then, Gwil led them into the woods that bordered the beach to a cluster of ruined clay buildings. They¡¯d picked out the one that offered the most shelter and built a fire.


    Leira¡¯s mood had done a one-eighty. The prospect of food certainly helped, but she was practically rolling on the floor laughing while Skuld cooked the fish.


    The old man was telling a story about a political scandal in a far-off city called Veirga. Leira had apparently visited the place and held immense hatred for one of the city¡¯s barons. Gwil missed a lot of the details, but the gist was that said baron got caught dumping toxic waste in the river that supplied water to most of the city. He was then paraded through the streets whilst being pelted by garbage and was subsequently drowned in the very same river. Leira was thrilled by that outcome.


    ¡°Mmm, smells good,¡± Skuld said, wafting the smoke toward his nose. ¡°I been stuck eatin¡¯ ¡®em raw for the past week.¡±


    Skuld declared the fish ready and handed out the meals. Three big, plump mackerel, which the old man had carved into immaculate fillets with just a sharpened stick, even though Gwil had offered him a knife.


    Though the only seasoning they had was salt, the flavor was so splendid that Gwil thought he might cry. And Leira actually did.


    ¡°How?¡± she pleaded through a mouthful.


    Skuld laughed. ¡°Just got a good feel for it after all these years.¡±


    Skuld¡¯s eyes were bright and kind, but Gwil could feel the man¡¯s gaze drilling into him while they ate. After they¡¯d scarfed down the last of the food, Skuld leaned in close.


    ¡°You two are unusual,¡± he said. ¡°The World bends around you. I can see it in the air.¡±


    ¡°Speak for yourself,¡± Leira said. ¡°That¡¯s the wind, you old fool.¡±


    Skuld laughed. ¡°Indulge this old fool, then. Let me pass on what I know. Who knows how much time I have left?¡±


    They waited for him to speak as he closed his eyes and knuckled them.


    ¡°You¡¯ve probably heard the saying before. That there¡¯s only three things that didn¡¯t change after the Apocalypse: chess, the metric system, and cockroaches.


    ¡°This World of ours is wrong. Our roots are serpents. There¡¯s something in the water, the soil, the air. Call it a poison, for want of a better term. If you take a step back and look, really look, everyone¡¯s half-insane. Something got its claws in us, and it changed us. Pah! I don¡¯t mean just us Hallowed. You think ordinary folk are supposed to be so reckless and fierce and vigorous? Nature wouldn¡¯t design creatures like us. Couldn¡¯t. Look at this madness! Everyone and everything teetering on a hundred different brinks. Stretched too thin.¡±


    Gwil and Leira exchanged a look.


    ¡°Crazy, isn¡¯t it?¡± Gwil said.


    Skuld waved him off and laughed. ¡°Ah, I¡¯m just ramblin¡¯. And don¡¯t get me wrong¡ªI¡¯m not saying we¡¯re worse off. There¡¯re far bigger problems. And me? I love it. It¡¯s a riot, and a damn sight better than the Hells. You can bet on that. Nobody wants to die from a spot of shitty luck. Whew! That¡¯s a steep cost.


    ¡°All I¡¯m saying is we¡¯ve strayed onto a different path, and who knows where we¡¯re headed? Just keep it in mind, that¡¯s all.¡±


    Gwil furrowed his brow. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    Leira burst out laughing. ¡°Piss off! Where are you hiding the booze?¡±


    ¡°Bahaha! You kids wanna borrow my boat? I don¡¯t need it so bad.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gwil said. ¡°We can wait out the storm. Are you gonna stay on Alnam?¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon, let me show you the ropes,¡± Skuld said.


    Gwil made to stand, but Skuld put a hand on his shoulder, and he found himself rooted to the ground. The old man waved his hand in Leira¡¯s direction. Expressionless, she stood and walked out of the hovel. Her movement was peculiar, stiff, like a puppet.


    ¡°Where¡¯d she come from?¡± Skuld asked gruffly.


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°She just showed up and killed me!¡±


    The old man¡¯s face darkened. He fixed Gwil with a glare. ¡°That¡¯s a terrible burden she carries. Makes me wanna cry.¡± He gripped Gwil¡¯s shoulders and squeezed them. ¡°One day, everything will come crashing down on her. She¡¯ll need your help. Don¡¯t you dare abandon her. If you did, I¡¯d have a mind to hunt you down and kill you.¡±


    Hailstones were tinkling against the shelter. Gwil was stunned to silence, but Skuld expected an answer.


    ¡°The way I see it, our lives are as one.¡±


    ¡°Good lad,¡± Skuld said, but his smile was sad. He reached out with his hand and almost touched the deep scar on Gwil¡¯s chest. Then he put his hand over his own heart. ¡°You¡¯re really one of them.¡± He laughed. ¡°That¡¯s fucked. I can¡¯t believe I ran into you like this. Fate sure has a sense of humor.¡±


    Gwil sneered. ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Ash must have been thrilled when she found you.¡± He leaned closer. ¡°I see it¡ªyou¡¯ll throw yourself to the wolves for nothing. Gods, she did a number on you. You¡¯ll be her perfect little machine. And she¡¯s just gonna set you loose? I guess she¡¯s decided it¡¯s time to put the World to the question. She¡¯s going all in.¡±


    ¡°What are-¡±


    Skuld waved his hand. ¡°Forget it.¡±


    Gwil blinked. ¡°Where¡¯s Leira?¡±


    He stood and walked out. Skuld followed him. Leira was up ahead, wandering slightly off course. She turned, startled, but fell in step with Gwil as if nothing was amiss.


    Gwil liked this old man. He was easy to trust. And it was plain to see¡ªSkuld had something of the hero about him. Gwil didn¡¯t want to squander this chance.


    ¡°You knew I was a Hallow,¡± Gwil blurted.


    Looking amused, Skuld nodded as they reached the beach.


    ¡°I just died yesterday,¡± Gwil said quickly. ¡°I have no idea what I¡¯m doing. I don¡¯t know anything about Nirva.¡±


    Skuld clapped him on the back. ¡°I can see that.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re looking for Ashkana,¡± Leira cut in.


    ¡°Ashkana?¡± Skuld bit his lip, head bobbing as if weighing his next words. ¡°What¡¯d you have to do with her?¡±


    ¡°Just tell him, Gwil,¡± Leira said. ¡°This guy could kill us without lifting a finger.¡±


    Skuld winked. ¡°Lucky there aren¡¯t too many like me just walking around.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Uh, so this old lady who raised me, her name was Caris. One day some, I dunno, assassins came and killed her. And then some dragon warrior with a knife in his eye showed up and decided to leave me alive. But the old lady, before she died, told me not to die, no matter what. I blew it. But she also said, if I became a Hallow, to go find Ashkana.¡±


    Skuld grunted, rubbing his chin. ¡°Sorry to hear that. But this isn¡¯t something I¡¯m willing to interfere with. I don¡¯t wanna piss my sister off.¡±


    Before Gwil could open his mouth, Leira shoved him aside and grabbed hold of Skuld.


    ¡°Did you just say that you¡¯re Ashkana¡¯s brother?¡± She looked demented.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Skuld said. ¡°I¡¯m her little brother. I haven¡¯t seen her in, oh, a century now. Are you fond of her?¡±


    Leira pulled Skuld down so that their faces were level. ¡°I¡¯ve idolized her since I came out of the womb, old man. Where is Ultima Thule?¡±


    Skuld chuckled. ¡°She¡¯ll love you. You act just like she did when she was young.¡±


    Leira swooned and fell to her knees, mouthing words at the sky like a fish out of water.


    Skuld turned to Gwil. ¡°This is too delicate for my clumsy hands. I don¡¯t wanna ruin Ash¡¯s design.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°What I¡¯m saying is we need to part ways. The boat¡¯s yours. Best get going.¡±


    Gwil stammered.


    ¡°And about the Nirva, I¡¯d ruin you. It¡¯s a journey. Trust yourself. Have fun. You have serious potential. There¡¯s a hell of a lot flowing through you¡ªexcuse the pun. I¡¯ll just say: ignore the voices, if you can. You don¡¯t wanna open that can of worms yet.¡±


    Gwil nodded. ¡°Thanks anyway. And for the fish, too.¡±


    Skuld grunted. ¡°I¡¯ll be off then.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You don¡¯t need to give us your boat. Don¡¯t strand yourself on our account.¡±


    Skuld laughed. ¡°I know how to swim. If I¡¯m lucky, I might just procure a nicer boat. Farewell, kids.¡± He jogged toward the water.


    ¡°Stop!¡± Leira screeched. She scrambled to her feet. ¡°I have questions that I demand you answer.¡± A shimmering red cloud hung around her face. The flower¡¯s petals swayed with hypnotic distortion.


    Gwil palmed his forehead.


    Skuld turned. ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous. Wouldn¡¯t you rather meet her for yourself? My fumbling words won¡¯t do her justice.¡±


    ¡°Dammit,¡± Leira said. ¡°You¡¯re so right. I¡¯m a fool.¡±


    Skuld set out again. ¡°Good luck,¡± he called over his shoulder. ¡°If you survive, I reckon we¡¯ll meet again.¡±


    They watched the crazy bastard dive into the sea¡¯s gnashing jaws. Despite his powerful presence and disarming grace, Skuld was dwarfed.


    He was being thrown about like a rag doll. But every time he went under, he resurfaced further out. They watched until Skuld was too small to see.

 Chapter Five – We Should Burn It

    ¡°Tch!¡± Leira said as Skuld disappeared from view. ¡°That old fool didn¡¯t show us how to work his shitty boat.¡±


    ¡°I guess he forgot,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Yeah, ¡®cause you freaked him out,¡± Leira said. ¡°I can¡¯t believe Ashkana¡¯s brother is such a quack. But it can¡¯t be a coincidence he found us here. She¡¯s like a chess master.¡±


    They walked toward the dinghy, breaking into a run as a particularly aspirational wave came close to pulling the boat out to sea.


    The hail had stopped, and the rain may have let up a touch. It was tough to tell with such a downpour.


    Gwil inspected the boat. The hull was intact, but that was about all the praise he could lay on the thing. Rusty nails stuck out all over the place, and there was more shoddy patchwork than original material. It barely had enough space for two people, and that was to say nothing of its capacity to actually bear that weight.


    ¡°Why do they even make boats out of wood anymore?¡± Leira said. ¡°The mast, at least, should be made of metal if you ask me.¡±


    Gwil knew nothing of boatbuilding, but this mast had been snapped in half and repaired with a strip of sheet metal. It went crooked at the breakpoint.


    ¡°It¡¯ll hold,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Or Skuld wouldn¡¯t have given it to us.¡±


    ¡°Do you know how to¡­ work the sail or whatever?¡± Leira said, making a flapping gesture.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But we¡¯d better go now. Look, the wind. It¡¯s blowing straight toward the mainland. If that changes, we¡¯ll be stuck.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Leira said. ¡°But I hope you¡¯re a good swimmer, because if we go overboard, I¡¯ll be clinging to you.¡±


    They pushed the boat down the pitted, storm-ravaged beach, and were forced to frantically jump in as the tide gobbled up the little vessel.


    Leira sat herself down and wrapped one arm around the mast, and the other around Gwil¡¯s leg to help him stay upright as he made to unfurl the sail.


    It felt like they were riding down a waterfall. The battering was merciless. In a blink, they¡¯d been dragged some fifty meters out, while being spun around so that the bow pointed toward the shore they¡¯d just left.


    Gwil coiled the sheet rope around his hand and released the sail. With a booming clap, the sail ballooned with wind, and the boat surged ahead while facing backwards.


    They both screamed as the boat pitched back and forth between swirling currents. Water poured in over the sides. Leira made a pitiable attempt to scoop some out with her hand.


    A violent lurch threw Gwil over the side. He clung to the rope, legs dangling in the water. The boom was going wild, wrenching him all around.


    The boat dipped hard onto one side ¨C Gwil¡¯s head went under.


    An enormous wave launched them into the air, with the bow pointed toward the sky. Gwil saw Leira dangling sideways from the mast before he was dunked again at the impact of their landing.


    His breath caught; his limbs seized at the frigid water. He was stuck beneath the sail, blocked from surfacing, but he didn¡¯t dare risk letting go of the rope.


    Gwil threw an arm up as the hull crashed into him. He clung to the boat as it thrashed. For one fleeting moment, he surfaced, given the chance to draw a single breath before being sucked back under.


    A shadow out of the darker depths. A squid-shark. A stream of bubbles erupted from Gwil¡¯s lips¡ªprecious air. The creature circled beneath his flailing legs.


    Gwil tracked the mindless beast, waiting¡­


    The shark lunged. Gwil aimed a stomp at its snout.


    And connected ¨C the beast¡¯s gnashing jaws clamped down on nothing. But its face-tentacles had snaked around his leg. The shark pulled him down. Gwil¡¯s arm, still knotted in the rope, felt like it was going to be torn off.


    Air. Air. I need to breathe. Crippling panic stole through him.


    His blood ignited.


    Gwil twisted around with inhuman force. The flesh of his snared foot was flayed off, but it jerked free.


    The squid-shark went into a frenzy. It spun in a circle, whipping Gwil with the brunt of its heavy tail.


    He fell back, dazed. The blow had torn his hand from the rope, shearing skin and cutting him loose from the boat.


    Gaping jaws. Gwil ducked his head, locked his fingers, and threw his arms up. With both hands, he jabbed inward. His fingertips burst through soft, squishy grapes.


    The shark spasmed with the pain of having its eyes gouged. Its skull crashed hard into Gwil¡¯s chest as it turned to flee. His sternum cracked. He was sinking.


    I need to breathe.


    He tried to kick, to reach for the surface, but his limbs were limp and useless. Blood from his leg trailed upward.


    Sinking downward.


    Darkness encroached. Within the black depths, he saw ethereal silhouettes comprised of fluttering moths. Some were near, others far. All shapes and sizes ¨C big fish, little fish packed in schools, octopi, more sharks, anemones, and bacteria. All the life in the sea, traced by Nirva.


    Looking up to the surface, he could see Leira, outlined in her mottled hues.


    I need to breathe. Leira will be alone. ¡®Don¡¯t you dare abandon her.¡¯


    But his lungs cared nothing for his desperation. Gwil continued to sink. I can¡¯t do anything. Dammit, I didn¡¯t even survive for one day. The thought made him laugh. One last spurt of air bubbled out. Nothing left. The glowing auras were twinkling out.


    Smothered, Gwil felt himself plummet. Rushing down the path to hell.


    And then he was soaring. He gasped and sputtered and gagged. The wind and rain¡ªsensations tickling back to life. Gwil saw the sky¡ªhe really was flying through the air.


    The sea was below. And the boat, and Leira.


    And disappearing back into the water, the white-scaled, finned tail of an enormous creature.


    Gwil crashed down into the boat. All bleary and spinning, his head pulsing. His eyes filled with tears, he couldn¡¯t stop coughing and choking.


    ¡°Fucking hell!¡± Leira shouted. She beat on his chest with her fists.


    Gwil didn¡¯t know if that was helping, but he was too weak to stop her.


    Water and vomit spewed from his mouth.


    ¡°Bwahaha! Way to go, captain!¡±


    Gwil managed to sit himself up, splashing in the water that had pooled in the boat. He couldn¡¯t stop his teeth from chattering.


    Leira hugged him with one arm and turned him to where she was pointing. ¡°We¡¯re nearly there!¡±


    The mainland. Mikara. They were less than a hundred meters away. Like a dream made real


    ¡°O-Ooh!¡± Gwil sputtered.


    In truth, it was ugly, mangled land, just like Alnam. But Gwil didn¡¯t care. He had eyes for the horizon, and what lay beyond. Mikara was just the first steppingstone.Stolen story; please report.


    What thrills and trials awaited? Who would they meet? How far could they go? North? That¡¯s nothing. I want to see everything. Airships and cities!


    Hunched and shivering, they clung to each other. The storm was breaking apart. Rippling rays of orange sunlight pierced the clouds, as if a hail of arrows had barraged the storm.


    This sunset was vehement, fierce and fiery as if enraged it had been cowed by the storm. The wind caressed rather than whipped. The rain dwindled to a refreshing mist.


    The sail had been ripped to shreds; it hung in tatters. But the miserable little dinghy still carried them. They were going to make it. The tide would deliver them to the shore. They need only drift along.


    Gwil thumped his palm against the side of his head to dislodge some water. His Nirva¡ªwhich had burned so brightly while he clung to life beneath the water¡ªwaned. His body felt brutalized. He¡¯d been through the wringer. The bruising would probably turn him into a raisin overnight. And his foot really stung¡­


    ¡°Ewww!¡± Leira said standing up. The water in the boat was milky red with blood.


    He¡¯d forgotten! Gwil lifted his leg and was overjoyed to see his foot still attached. His boot hung in ruined flaps. It held on by the toe cap and a ring of leather around the ankle.


    As for the flesh, raw, pink tissue writhed like a cluster of grubs. Leira¡¯s lip curled as she leaned closer to examine it.


    ¡°Cool!¡± Gwil said. ¡°It¡¯s like I can¡¯t be hurt.¡±


    ¡°It is not like that!¡± Leira snapped. ¡°You got lucky. If you needed to regrow the whole foot, it could take a week.¡±


    ¡°I can regrow my foot?¡± Gwil yelled.


    Leira poked the raw flesh with her finger and Gwil squealed and spasmed as he yanked his foot away.


    ¡°What even happened?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Squid-shark.¡±


    ¡°Hm, if you knew what you were doing you could¡¯ve shielded your skin and not gotten hurt at all,¡± Leira said. ¡°And if you were really good, the shark would¡¯ve shattered its teeth.¡±


    Gwil wiggled his toes. ¡°This is the only pair of shoes I brought.¡±


    Leira moved up to stand at the bow. ¡°Goddammit. If we¡¯d waited another hour, we could¡¯ve cruised across the sea in this beautiful weather.¡±


    Gwil laughed. ¡°What a rush though.¡±


    ¡°Maybe for you!¡± Leira said. ¡°You had your near-death situation to distract you. All I could do was scream and panic and hold on for dear life. Hey, wait! How¡¯d you get into the air? No way a shark did that.¡±


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°You didn¡¯t see that giant white tail?¡±


    ¡°Huh? I didn¡¯t see anything until you fucking landed on top of me.¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°There was the shark, then I was drowning. I dunno. Something lifted me up; threw me out of the water.¡±


    ¡°Luck-augh!¡± The boat ran up against something and she screamed and dove down.


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Gwil said, rolling over the side of the boat to wade in knee-deep water. The boat had run up onto the sand.


    Leira jumped out too. ¡°Just leave the damned thing to float away.¡±


    ¡°Noo. She deserves better.¡±


    They dragged the boat ashore. Gwil took his first step into the World and then collapsed onto the sand. Leira stumbled past him, wobbling like a drunk and then ¨C


    ¡°Bleurgh!¡± She puked three, no, four times.


    ¡°Eugh,¡± Gwil said, rolling away from the flotsam that was her vomit.


    Leira fell down beside him, groaning. ¡°There goes the fish. It was so good too. We¡¯re out of bread, aren¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Hey, we made it.¡±


    She laughed. ¡°Yeah, you did good. I thought we were gonna die and we didn¡¯t so.¡±


    Gwil lay there in the cold, wet sand. Grains stuck to his lips. Dribbles of the waves were crawling up his legs.


    Yesterday morning, he¡¯d been alive. How quickly everything had changed. Yet the World turned on, heedless and blind.


    Gwil knew it would be hard. Meeting Skuld made him realize he was tangled up in a lot of things he didn¡¯t understand. Caris was no fool. She wouldn¡¯t have been afraid without a good reason.


    ¡°We should change clothes,¡± Leira said. ¡°Before we freeze to death. But I can¡¯t move.¡±


    Gwil tried and failed to get up. He grunted.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Leira said. ¡°Leaving that shitty boat to rot away on this beach wouldn¡¯t be proper. But you know what would be proper?¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡±


    ¡°We should burn it and cook dinner with its flaming remains.¡±


    Hunger eventually dragged them to their feet.


    ***


    Leira¡¯s proposal proved difficult to execute. The reason being that the boat¡ªand everything else¡ªwas soaking wet.


    It became an ordeal, one that they were determined to overcome. They gathered plenty of wood, but it was all waterlogged.


    They found their solution in the mounds of plastic garbage that littered the beach.


    They gathered up a pile of trash, drying off what they could, and then set it on fire. Then, they piled the damp wood on top of that. Hours passed. It was pitch-black by the time they had a roaring fire going. Neither of them thought the time wasted.


    They dragged the boat onto the edge of the fire. They waited until it was engulfed in flames.


    Then they cooked sausages.


    Gwil twisted the stick that he was using as a skewer. ¡°I wonder if Skuld had a name for it.¡±


    ¡°In my mind, its name is Skuld,¡± Leira said. ¡°Bastard should¡¯ve just swam us across.¡±


    But it had been Leira that salvaged the boat¡¯s tattered sail. She had it wrapped around herself like a blanket.


    They ate and watched the boat transform into ash.


    Gwil had found a strange nut-like fruit in the forest. He insisted on eating it, despite Leira¡¯s protestations at the fruit¡¯s foul stench and bizarre coloring. But Gwil wanted to eat something native to the land that he¡¯d spent his life looking toward. And he¡¯d never seen the fruit anywhere on Alnam.


    He took a bite. It tasted like shit.


    They slept like logs.


    ***


    Birds were singing. It was dawn, and the sky looked feeble, as if knackered by yesterday¡¯s storm. But a hopeful hint of blue was creeping in.


    Leira yawned. ¡°Is your stomach alright?¡±


    Gwil nodded.


    ¡°That rancid thing was definitely poisonous. The pit was neon green.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got an iron stomach,¡± Gwil said.


    He did vomit as they packed up camp, but he managed to hide it from Leira by discretely spewing into the burnt remains of the bonfire.


    Gwil stood up after wrapping his destroyed boot with scraps of tarp and some bandage cloth. A decent patch. They were ready.


    Leira smiled. ¡°Well, we¡¯re here. Which way?¡±


    Gwil scanned the horizon. Flat, sparse fields rolled out from the beach. A wild array of jagged cliffs sprawled along the coast. That looked interesting. He pointed toward them.


    ¡°What?¡± Leira said. ¡°I wasn¡¯t asking for your preference. Check the compass! We¡¯re meant to go find Ashkana.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah.¡± Gwil pulled out the compass. Some water sloshed around in the casing.


    ¡°Ha!¡±


    It turned out the coastal cliffside was the northern-most path.


    They set out.


    ***


    This is a shattered World inhabited by twice-shattered people. The mountains are splintered bones. The rivers are chronic wounds, weeping. It is a great, mangled carcass, teeming with maggots. You were butchered by superior monsters.


    Your savage dreams, your thirst for dominance and violence, your desire to see your own brethren punished ¨C all those pleasures brought to fruition by the Apocalypse.


    Look what you wrought! Rejoice! These are the fruits of your prayers!


    ***


    ¡°It¡¯s so beautiful!¡± Gwil yelled.


    ¡°Please,¡± Leira said, laughing. ¡°We can still see your islands from here.¡±


    ¡°It goes on forever,¡± Gwil said.


    They stood on a shelf among the towering coastal cliffs. Three hours of hard hiking had seen them here. The midday sun blazed overhead.


    The rough, rocky terrain continued to ascend upward in tiers. Crags and crevices, plunging and rising. Layered within the rock were twisted formations of metal and plastic and concrete. Those unnatural bands twinkled in the light, proclaimed by the passage of time to be as much a part of the World as the stone and the dirt.


    Gwil had never been so high up. Far below, the sea crashed against the rocks. These cliffs laughed at the biggest rock formations in Alnam.


    Thanks to the curvature of the coast, they could see past the cliffs from where they stood. That was north. That was their destination. But they could not see what lay beyond.


    Though the weather was clear and bright in the storm''s wake, a massive, swirling wall of dark grey fog created a false horizon to the north. Green lightning flashed within.


    ¡°Gwil, look down there,¡± Leira said.


    She pointed down a corridor that ran through the cliffs. An elevated shelf ran along one side, and that would be their path. But Leira was indicating the ravine below, which they couldn¡¯t see before reaching this height.


    Dark haze hung in the air above the depression, some sort of airborne silt. Looking to the end of the ravine, Gwil saw a cluster of stone spires. But they were too squared, too uniform.


    ¡°Ooh! Is that a city?¡±


    ¡°I think so,¡± Leira said. ¡°A small one.¡±


    ¡°We gotta go there.¡±


    Leira grinned. ¡°I dunno, should we? It¡¯s a bit out of the way.¡±


    ¡°Huh? C¡¯mon, we¡¯re not gonna only go north. We can sleep in an inn. There¡¯ll be food. And I¡¯ll buy you a dress.¡±


    ¡°With what money?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll steal one,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Fine. We could use some supplies anyway. Not an inn, though. A proper hotel. With a pool and a gourmet restaurant.¡±


    ¡°A what with a what? C¡¯mon, let¡¯s go!¡±


    So Ends the First Tale:


    Twin Slivers


    Interlude - Her Untold Burdens


    Ashkana, Lady of the Wastes, walks in two worlds.


    There is the real one, where she heads an army ten thousand strong. She is clad in gleaming silver armor. She carries a greatsword on her back.


    Her eyes are clear and hard. Her gait is steady. These impossibly brave men and women¡­ Her Vermin, her love.


    To have come this far and gained nothing. To have spilled so much blood. To have lost so many.


    To press on despite it all. They are her strength.


    She deludes herself with a conviction that it is bottomless. That she is unyielding. Long ago, she swore she would never display a glimmer of doubt, nor a sliver of weakness.


    Ahead the path unfurls, shadows given substance, new lands twisting into wretched existence. We will walk forever.


    And then there is the true one. The one inside her. The one she created. She wishes she was alone.


    Hobbling. She is naked and emaciated, her flesh charred and flayed. She is blind¡ªshe has gouged out her own eyes. Yalda¡¯blood weeps from scarred pits.


    A storm of invisible knives surrounds her. Slashing, slitting, slicing, stabbing. ¡°It never stops!¡±


    Ashkana shrieks into the mired void. Formless desolation need not be witnessed¡ªthis stillborn world of hers.


    With a skeletal hand, she clutches at her gutted belly to keep her entrails from spilling out. She waits for it to heal, worms of flesh, stitching back together. Her body is a wound.


    So many, so many, so many. The fallen, the dead, the damned. They are weeping, praying, wailing, screaming.


    Ashkana smiles. She is glad that she is blind. The relief is euphoric no matter how meager. Please. I¡¯m so tired. Do not make me bear all these memories forever. Set me free.

 Interlude - Her Untold Burdens

    Ashkana, Lady of the Wastes, walks in two worlds.


    There is the real one, where she heads an army ten thousand strong. She is clad in gleaming silver armor. She carries a greatsword on her back.


    Her eyes are clear and hard. Her gait is steady. These impossibly brave men and women¡­ Her Vermin, her love.


    To have come this far and gained nothing. To have spilled so much blood. To have lost so many.


    To press on despite it all. They are her strength.


    She deludes herself with a conviction that it is bottomless. That she is unyielding. Long ago, she swore she would never display a glimmer of doubt, nor a sliver of weakness.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Ahead the path unfurls, shadows given substance, new lands twisting into wretched existence. We will walk forever.


    And then there is the true one. The one inside her. The one she created. She wishes she was alone.


    Hobbling. She is naked and emaciated, her flesh charred and flayed. She is blind¡ªshe has gouged out her own eyes. Yalda¡¯blood weeps from scarred pits.


    A storm of invisible knives surrounds her. Slashing, slitting, slicing, stabbing. ¡°It never stops!¡±


    Ashkana shrieks into the mired void. Formless desolation need not be witnessed¡ªthis stillborn world of hers.


    With a skeletal hand, she clutches at her gutted belly to keep her entrails from spilling out. She waits for it to heal, worms of flesh, stitching back together. Her body is a wound.


    So many, so many, so many. The fallen, the dead, the damned. They are weeping, praying, wailing, screaming.


    Ashkana smiles. She is glad that she is blind. The relief is euphoric no matter how meager. Please. I¡¯m so tired. Do not make me bear all these memories forever. Set me free.

 Chapter Six – Flashy Red Skimmer

    ¡°Turn around,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Are you afraid of heights?¡± Gwil asked as he walked backwards along the narrow¡ªand treacherous¡ªcliffside path.


    ¡°I¡¯m not afraid,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯m just being careful, as anyone in possession of a brain would be.¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t stopped hugging the wall, though.¡±


    The beginning of the rocky shelf had been wide enough for four people to walk abreast, but it had narrowed to the point that Gwil and Leira had to go single file.


    On the left side, a sheer cliff wall ran the entire length. It had an inward lean, the angle of which grew harsher as they progressed. It was getting a bit claustrophobic.


    To the right, nothing except plummeting emptiness, a drop of some thirty stories. And on the far side of that chasm, another towering cliff that also leaned inward, meeting the other to form the jagged peak of a ridge.


    The two half-toppled crags formed a roof above them. Gwil and Leira walked through what was essentially a huge tunnel in the sky.


    ¡°It¡¯s kind of like something punched a hole right through this mountain,¡± Gwil said as he leaned over the precipice. ¡°Ooh! What is that? Come look, Leira.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said as she sidled past.


    A group of creatures that Gwil had never seen before clung to the wall about five meters below the edge.


    They looked like a mix between a dragonfly and a lobster, with rocky carapaces. Six of them, arranged in a ring, all attached head to tail with each other.


    ¡°Wow, what a place for that,¡± Gwil said as he stood and skipped along to catch up with Leira.


    ¡°You can die, you know,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯d just come back to life again,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°No. That cannot happen.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, are you sure?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure. If your brain gets destroyed, you¡¯re done. That fall, for example, could kill you if you had an unlucky landing. Especially since you don¡¯t know how to reinforce yourself.¡±


    ¡°Ha! I¡¯m not gonna fall. I wouldn¡¯t die like that.¡±


    A winged shadow swooped over them. Leira screamed. The huge bird squawked¡ªa guttural, chugging sound.


    A condor. Black, with white-tipped wings and a bulbous horn atop its head.


    Gwil leapt to swat it away, which he did, but in doing so, slipped on some gravel.


    Dangling over the edge, heart pounding in his throat, Gwil could only laugh as he scrambled back up.


    ***


    ¡°Woahohoh!¡±


    They¡¯d reached the end of the bizarre tunnel to find that it opened onto a vast stretch of gentle, grassy plains, swirled with greens and browns. This oasis was nestled within a wide, shallow basin, the distant edges rimmed with rock. It was like a spoonful taken out of the land. The space was enormous¡ªthey would not make it across today.


    Gwil and Leira followed the switchback path down onto the flat. As they descended, they caught sight of a few scattered buildings among the hills and saw that a paved black road snaked its way through the landscape.


    Reaching the bottom, they found themselves in knee-high prairie grasses. They started trekking up a slope, heading toward the ravine which held the presumed city. How they would get down was a problem for tomorrow.


    ¡°Do they have vehicles here?¡± Gwil asked.


    Leira shrugged. ¡°Everywhere is different. And again, I don¡¯t know any more than you about this place. But this does seem like a weird spot for a road.¡±


    ¡°Erwin bought a car from a foreign trader once,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But he got scammed. It was just an empty metal box¡ªno mechanism or anything to make it go. He turned it into a fridge.¡±


    ¡°Tell me, Gwil, what do you know about these vehicles?¡±


    ¡°Hm. Big metal boxes, like carriages, but they don¡¯t need an animal.¡±


    Leira clapped poshly, with two fingers. ¡°Very good. And how do you think it¡¯s possible for that to happen?¡±


    Gwil grinned. ¡°With the power of the black smoke. You thought I didn¡¯t know about it, eh?¡±


    Leira laughed. ¡°Calling it ¡®the black smoke¡¯ isn¡¯t exactly knowing. It¡¯s called Kaia.¡±


    At the top of one of the taller hills, their path intersected with the road, and they were able to see down its length. It didn¡¯t seem to go anywhere, rather it just looped around through the entire basin.


    ¡°Ah-ha!¡± Leira said. ¡°That¡¯s an important-looking building.¡±


    The other structures that were scattered throughout the plains were just wooden shacks. But the dome-shaped building that stood against the cliff¡¯s edge at the far end¡ªlarge despite the distance¡ªlooked to be made of something crystalline. It was green, and radiant in the sunlight.


    ¡°Nice,¡± Leira said. ¡°A building made of emerald points toward luxury. Ugh, I¡¯d kill for a massage.¡±


    The road appeared to lead to the building. They set out down the winding, tarred path.


    ¡°Robots run on Kaia, don¡¯t they?¡± Gwil asked. ¡°I really wanna see a robot.¡±


    ¡°Everything does,¡± Leira said. ¡°It¡¯s the most precious substance in the World. But it¡¯s dangerous and strictly regulated by the Leviathan.


    ¡°In some places¡ªindustrial hubs, mostly¡ªit¡¯s ubiquitous. But usually, it¡¯s a luxury for Leviathan dogs. Barons, elites. Bait for them to dangle all up and down the chain.Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°And it¡¯s used for a lot more than just vehicles¡ªfactories, water systems, automatons, artificial lighting, all sorts of things.¡±


    ¡°Ubiquitous,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°They do the same with weaponry,¡± Leira continued. ¡°There¡¯s a black market, of course, but criminals aren¡¯t usually inclined to develop infrastructure, so.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Gwil asked. ¡°Why isn¡¯t it everywhere?¡±


    ¡°Another tool of oppression, obviously. Simple cruelty. But it is dangerous stuff. Toxic. Some faithful types believe it¡¯s an abomination, something sinful.¡± Leira shrugged. ¡°People who work with the raw stuff get turned blue.¡±


    ¡°A traveler passed through Reverie once, and he had a tube on his belt that cast a beam of light. He told me it was a laser sword, but he wouldn¡¯t cut anything with it, so I dunno.¡±


    Leira scratched her chin. ¡°That sounds like a flashlight. But laser swords do exist. I¡¯d love to have one. Ashkana¡¯s Vermin commanders are famous for wielding them. Great, flaming blades that cut through a person like butter.¡± She laughed at Gwil¡¯s gaping expression. ¡°You¡¯ll be in for a shock. There¡¯s so much stuff you never could¡¯ve imagined since you were stuck on those islands.¡±


    Gwil looked over his shoulder in the direction of Alnam, but the walls of the basin blocked the islands from view.


    ¡°A settlement existing completely outside the Leviathan¡¯s sphere is pretty rare though,¡± Leira said. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s a good enough reason to live like a primitive.¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not so bad there, even if it¡¯s boring. They help each other. They even helped me. Everyone¡¯s poor, but no one starves.¡±


    ¡°Aye, that¡¯s not nothing,¡± Leira said. ¡°Rather be bored than starving.¡± She pointed toward the emerald structure up ahead. ¡°Based on how ritzy that building is, I reckon you¡¯re about to get a bad taste of things.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯d you mean?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯ll see why I love Ashkana so much.¡±


    Gwil scratched his head. ¡°If things are so bad, why don¡¯t people do something?¡±


    Leira laughed. ¡°Same reason ants don¡¯t conquer the World even though they outnumber us like ten million-to-one.¡±


    Night fell when they were halfway across the plains. The moonlight had a faint red tint tonight. The way it glistened off the dewy grass made the land look blood slicked.


    When they came to a knoll that was staked by a jut of rock, they set up camp. The weather was nice enough that they did not bother with the tents. They intended to get an early start, anyway.


    ¡°Gwil, listen,¡± Leira said as she rolled out her sleeping mat, which had belonged to Caris. ¡°If there¡¯s even a hint that the Leviathan is present in that city, we just gotta keep moving. I can¡¯t- We can¡¯t risk that.¡±


    ¡°But-¡±


    ¡°No. I doubt they will be. It¡¯s probably just some lesser vassal¡¯s territory under control of his own personal forces. I wouldn¡¯t expect any actual Leviathan presence somewhere this remote. But if they are, promise me, we go right on past and we don¡¯t look back. If they show up, we run away immediately. No matter what.¡±


    Gwil rubbed at his chin. ¡°But what-¡±


    ¡°Promise me.¡±


    ¡°Okay, I promise.¡±


    They laid down to sleep, their small fire flickering down into embers. The basin¡¯s walls protected them from the wind. Looking up at the crimson sky, Gwil smiled. He was so glad to be in this strange place. Just a day¡¯s journey and everything was so different. These great mountains that he¡¯d spent years staring at. And the plants¡ªnothing like this grew on Alnam. Already the World had surpassed his expectations.


    ¡°Leira?¡± he said.


    She grunted.


    ¡°Airships are real, aren¡¯t they?¡±


    Leira lifted her head to look at him. ¡°Of course. But only for them.¡±


    Gwil really wanted to ride in an airship.


    ***


    ¡°Finally,¡± Leira said.


    They¡¯d come to a sign along the side of the road, a wide stone block etched with gold writing. It read: Chateau Podexia - Atelier and Resort.


    ¡°Ohoho,¡± Leira said, grinning. ¡°I¡¯m getting that massage.¡±


    They continued down the road. The morning was bright and warm, the sky cloudless. About an hour later, Gwil¡¯s ears pricked up at a humming sound. His eyes flicked to the sky, expecting another giant bird.


    ¡°Move,¡± Leira said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him off the road. She made to keep walking, but Gwil stopped as the humming grew louder, clarifying into a rumble.


    A glistening red shape crested the road¡¯s slope. It was moving fast.


    And it was not touching the ground. Bright white-blue light gleamed from the vehicle¡¯s underside.


    It tore past them¡ªshiny red, shaped like an almond. The cabin was stuffed full of the driver¡¯s giant hairdo. Black smog spewed from the vents arrayed across the rear.


    ¡°Woah! Is that a car?¡±


    ¡°Nah, no wheels,¡± Leira said. ¡°Those¡¯re called skimmers.¡±


    Gwil squinted, but the cloud of smoke and kicked-up dust obscured the vehicle.


    ¡°They¡¯re pretty rare,¡± Leira said. ¡°I guess I was right about this place being ritzy, even though it¡¯s in bumfuck land.¡±


    The curve of the road brought them near the cliff¡¯s edge. They cut through the grass to take a look down into the canyon.


    Gwil could see it properly now¡ªthe city. Five rows of stone buildings divided by roads. And the buildings were not just plain rock, but ornate, fantastic sculptures. And so many colors¡ªswirling marble, shining gemstones. The tiny moving specks were people, as small as bugs from above.


    Standing behind the city, far taller than any of the buildings, an enormous wall formed of natural rock. It spanned the narrowed tail-end of the canyon, separating the city from the cliffside.


    Gwil gaped. The whole thing was so huge.


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty small,¡± Leira said. ¡°But very fancy.¡±


    ¡°I thought cities are usually made out of metal,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Mmm, no,¡± Leira said. ¡°But I¡¯ve never seen anything quite like this.¡±


    ¡°This place must have the best rocks,¡± Gwil said.


    They went back to the road. It was still unclear how they might get down into the canyon, but they neared the emerald structure.


    Before that though, there was a gate to cross. An ornamented golden arch stood over the road. The gate looked sturdy, but the thing provided no actual security, since you could just walk around it.


    However, two armed, uniformed men emerged from the booth that stood beside one of the arch¡¯s legs. They marched in perfect synchronization and then halted in the middle of the road and planted the butts of their spears on the ground.


    Their strange harmony made Gwil think, robot! Alas, they were only humans, but so similar they might¡¯ve been twins.


    Both men were barrel chested with legs like chickens. They wore green cargo pants with white tank tops. And they both had silver badges pinned to their chests. And they both had cleft chins and buzzcuts.


    The only difference was that one man chewed a toothpick, and the other smoked a cigar.


    ¡°State your business,¡± said Toothpick.


    Gwil was quicker to answer than Leira, who might have been slowed by the depth of her scowl. She swore under her breath as Gwil began to speak.


    ¡°This place is cool,¡± he said. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°State your business,¡± said Cigar.


    ¡°How do we get down there?¡± Gwil said.


    Leira either snickered or gagged behind her hand, which she¡¯d clamped over her mouth.


    ¡°This is no place for ogling vagrants,¡± Toothpick said. ¡°This is a place of commerce and pleasure.¡±


    Cigar exhaled a puff of smoke. ¡°This is the famed resort of the titanic tycoon, Burgermeister Stondemaier Jaqlov.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Gwil said.


    Toothpick removed his chewed-up implement and brandished it at them like a tiny sword. ¡°I suggest you two keep it moving. You don¡¯t belong here.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡± Gwil said. ¡°We just wanna look around.¡±


    Cigar opened his mouth, but his lips just flapped like a dying fish. He swayed and gurgled. His hands went to his throat and his eyes bugged out.


    Gwil caught a whiff of something sickly sweet. Clouds of pink spores billowed out of Leira¡¯s eyeflower to cover the guards like snowflakes.


    Cigar fell to his knees. Toothpick lowered his spear at Gwil and Leira, but the weapon fell from his hands, clattered to the ground. He stumbled, slipped on the rolling shaft and fell over, landing on top of his partner.


    ¡°Oh! That¡¯s how you do it?¡± Gwil said. ¡°I wish I had gotten a flower. That¡¯s amazing and useful, Leira!¡±


    ¡°This place is a joke,¡± she said. ¡°What is this weak-ass security? Two idiots acting like big shots. This bongermaier-whatever must be a cheap dumbass.¡±


    ¡°Can we still go?¡± Gwil said.


    Leira bit her lip. ¡°I dunno. We already assaulted their guards.¡±


    ¡°That was you,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything.¡±


    ¡°Piss off. They were immediately suspicious because of you.¡±


    ¡°I was honest and polite,¡± Gwil said. ¡°C¡¯mon, what about the massage?¡±


    Leira threw her hands up. ¡°Fine, if you insist. It should be safe enough if they¡¯re this incompetent. But let me do the talking.¡±


    She stepped over the fallen men to go around the side of the gate.


    Gwil nudged one of them with his foot. ¡°Are they gonna die?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not that bad!¡± Leira said. ¡°And don¡¯t say anything¡ªyou were an exception due to special circumstances. It¡¯s not poison, just an anesthetic.¡±

 Chapter Seven – Beautiful Surfaces

    Beyond the gate, sculptures and fountains lined the road. They entered the courtyard that led to the emerald building. In the center stood a two-story tall marble statue depicting a man and a woman side-by-side. They were holding hands, stone fingers interlocked. The man¡¯s other hand was raised in a posh wave. The plaque on the pedestal read: The Honorable and Exalted Burgermeister Stondemaier Jaqlov and the Graceful Lady Ophelia.


    ¡°It seems like this guy really loves rocks,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I gotta ask him why he loves rocks so much.¡±


    ¡°There is no good reason you¡¯d ever be talking to him,¡± Leira said. ¡°And he doesn¡¯t give a damn about rocks, you idiot. Just the doubloons.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe this place was here all this time, so close,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I could¡¯ve popped over for a visit.¡±


    As they circled around the statue, Gwil thought it wasteful that such a fancy area was empty. The gleaming green building loomed ahead. The main structure was made of emerald, accented with gold enameling. The dome was glass, segmented like a halved orange.


    The building was positioned right up against the cliff¡¯s edge, which seemed a needless risk.


    ¡°Ah, I see,¡± Leira muttered.


    The double doors were tall and made of solid gold except for the narrow rectangular windows set in their centers. They must have been tremendously heavy, yet they swung open on their own as Gwil and Leira approached.


    ¡°Do not speak,¡± Leira hissed. She strode ahead in a huff, her footsteps echoing through the wide-open space.


    It was the biggest room Gwil had ever seen. He stopped in the doorway, gaping at the ceiling. You could¡¯ve stuffed the whole of Reverie village inside.


    He jolted at a sudden metallic clang somewhere within the walls and lowered his gaze to see a host of people dressed in fancy clothes, all bustling about. Even the furniture was shiny¡ªplush leather couches and polished tables and such. Sconces hung from the walls, holding glowing crystals that cast bright light.


    Gwil caught up to Leira, who, with her back straight and her chin held high, strode toward the long desk at the back of the room. Beside the desk was a large hallway blocked by a gate.


    A bespectacled woman sat behind the desk, fixing Leira with a pronounced sneer.


    Leira slammed her hands down on the desk. ¡°What are you looking at, you worthless doorbell?¡±


    The woman¡¯s sneer melted away. She clasped her hands and bowed her head. ¡°Forgive me, my lady. I live to serve. How may I help you?¡±


    Leira slammed the desk again. ¡°My brother and I were nearly killed by the gross incompetence of one of the Burgermeister¡¯s servants. Do you think you can help with that?¡± She finished with a huff that seemed to burst from her lungs.


    ¡°I pray that I can, my lady,¡± the woman said, keeping her eyes cast downward.


    ¡°You can quit wasting time and let us through immediately,¡± Leira snapped. Her voice was pitched as if she were plugging her nose. ¡°Whilst on a sightseeing expedition, sanctioned by Burgermeister Jaqlov himself, we were assailed by bandits and robbed. They stole everything from us. On top of that, our escort fled during the attack, abandoning us. And on top of that, my brave brother was beaten by the savages. He requires medical attention.¡±


    Gwil hunched over and clutched his stomach. But he wondered at the strength of Leira¡¯s lie, because they both carried bulky backpacks.


    The woman made to speak, but Leira cut her off. ¡°I dare you to ask for identification. I dare you. I told you, we were robbed, you witless slave.¡± She threw her head back, looking up at the ceiling. ¡°My necklace was worth five times your sorry life.¡±


    ¡°O-of course, my lady. My apologies, my lady. I was only going to say I would let you descend immediately. Please, give me the name of the disgraceful servant who abandoned you. He must be hunted down and punished.¡±


    Leira¡¯s tongue clicked like a cracking whip. ¡°Why would I trust you with that information when you come from the same stock of filth? I suspect you would conspire with the culprit.¡±


    ¡°Forgive me, my lady. I¡¯m a worthless fool.¡±


    Leira gestured at the gate and shook her head as if appalled that it was not open yet.


    ¡°At once, my lady. My pleasure.¡±


    The two halves of the metal gate receded inward in opening. The woman lowered her forehead to the desk. Leira stalked toward the hall.


    Gwil approached the prostrating woman. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Sophia,¡± she whimpered.


    ¡°Come along, Haribald!¡± Leira snapped. She jerked her head to get Gwil to follow.


    The hallway led them into a cylindrical chamber made of thick panels of glass, bracketed by gold trim. Within the glass stirred a glowing white-blue liquid. The substance was beady, with little bubbles that writhed like maggots. Jagged black skeins crackled throughout, and there was a barely audible mosquito-like whine.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    A pair of doors closed, sealing them in. In the center of the chamber, a huge chain went through the floor and ceiling. It cranked, and the lift began to descend.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s appalling,¡± Leira muttered. She pointed at the glowing window. ¡°Kaia.¡±


    Gwil glared at her. ¡°What the hell was that?¡±


    She tossed her hair back and posed. ¡°I know. I¡¯d make an amazing actress, wouldn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Why were you so mean to that lady?¡±


    ¡°So she would let us down, of course. You really didn¡¯t pick up on that?¡±


    ¡°Who cares about that? She looked like she was gonna cry.¡±


    Leira covered her mouth with her hands. ¡°Oh, you poor, sweet boy. I¡¯m so sorry. And you were so excited¡­¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Gwil, that was nothing,¡± Leira said. ¡°That woman is just grateful I didn¡¯t try to have her executed.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you see?¡± Leira said. ¡°She¡¯s a slave, Gwil. It¡¯s all a veneer. This is a terrible place. And honestly, working in that nice lobby, I bet she¡¯s one of the lucky ones.¡±


    ¡°Lucky? What¡¯d you mean she¡¯s a slave?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t. You¡¯re gonna make me cry with all that stupid innocence.¡± Leira took a breath. ¡°Just about everyone who works here is enslaved. That¡¯s how these sorts of baronies work. There¡¯s the ruler, his aristocracy, and everyone else. Seems like this Jaqlov jerk-off is really making a killing though. With all the gold and gemstones, I¡¯m thinking it must be mining.¡±


    Gwil bit at his lip. ¡°These slaves are all stuck here?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Leira said. ¡°Like prisoners.¡±


    ¡°And they¡¯re all scared like that lady up there?¡±


    Leira shrugged and nodded.


    ¡°That¡¯s gross,¡± Gwil said. ¡°And you¡¯re way too good at acting like that.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Leira said. ¡°The key is to be as depraved and maniacal as possible. And they think my eyeflower is a splice, so that helps.¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ we¡¯re gonna have to make it up to that Sophia lady,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Sure, why not?¡± Leira said absently as she examined the chamber.


    Gwil pointed at the glowing glass. ¡°So, this Kaia is making the lift work?¡±


    ¡°The mechanism definitely runs on Kaia, but it wouldn¡¯t need nearly so much. I think what¡¯s in the glass is just decorative. Probably a billion doubloons worth, for a decoration. Ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s million, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Wha¨C No. Billion with a ¡®B¡¯. Very big number,¡± Leira said, spreading her arms wide.


    Gwil shook his head.


    ¡°Right. Don¡¯t try to correct me about anything related to numbers, please.¡±


    With a sharp stone-on-stone clap, the lift reached the bottom. The doors opened to reveal a packed, glittering cobblestone street awash with golden sunlight and unbridled revelry.


    A sea of people. Drums pounded beneath a chorus of excited chattering. It was a swirling swathe of color, both fluttering decorations and fine garb, bedazzled and betassled.


    The press swallowed them. Gwil squinted against the assault of blinding glares thrown by all the shining metal objects.


    Acrobats swung from hanging silks, performers walked on stilts, and musicians played foreign instruments. On the right, a tunnel through the canyon wall revealed a beach packed with people and umbrellas. It had black sand that glittered with jewel dust.


    So many people. Silk gowns and masks and ornate headdresses. Gwil spotted a couple splicers¡ªa woman with big yellow eyes like a cat, and a man with clawed lizard hands. Mayor Guice and his wife Margaret were the only splicers Gwil had seen before. They both had deer antlers.


    A shadow darkened the far end of the street, cast by the great stone wall that loomed over the entire city.


    Gwil¡¯s head swiveled in every direction as Leira took his hand and dragged him a short way down a side street.


    From here, he saw another marvel. Above one end of the wall, carved into the side of the canyon, was a huge hollow. That exposed cavern housed a field of greenery speckled with flowers and, towards the back, a giant stone building.


    ¡°Is that a castle?¡± Gwil said, pointing.


    ¡°Eh, I¡¯d call it a manor,¡± Leira said. She bit her lip while fiddling with the petals of her eyeflower. ¡°Well, what¡¯d you think?¡±


    ¡°Who are all these people?¡± Gwil said. ¡°Did they build this place?¡±


    ¡°What? No. They¡¯re just aristocrats and guests at the resort.¡±


    ¡°What about all the slaves? Do those people know?¡±


    Leira nodded and gestured broadly. ¡°Out of sight, out of mind.¡±


    The people who passed by gave Gwil and Leira a wide berth. In their dirty clothes, they were like the stain on an otherwise immaculate dress.


    Gwil looked around. It was so noisy¡ªall the sounds were trapped by the confines of the canyon. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. There¡¯re slaves for this? For what? For fun?¡±


    ¡°Well, I-¡±


    It hit them both at the same time. A smell. A wonderful smell. A door had opened next to them. Gwil smelled meats and seafood and exotic spices that he¡¯d never smelled before. A restaurant! In the window, a fountained bubbled with liquid chocolate.


    ¡°Leira!¡±


    ¡°I know. I see it,¡± she said, deadly serious. ¡°We need some money.¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯ll get us some.¡±


    They went back to the main street. Gwil followed as Leira led the way through.


    The ground shook. Excitement rippled through the crowd as everyone began clearing the road. Gwil and Leira were swept up and separated.


    ¡°Ooh!¡±


    Gwil forgot everything, because a giant rock was lumbering down the street. The thing was wide, shaped a bit like a bipedal turtle. About four meters tall, its body and limbs consisted entirely of hewn boulders of various sizes and shapes, all rolling against each other to generate movement. Raised across its shoulders like a yoke was a wooden, curtained structure. Nestled within a cutout in the rock-person¡¯s torso was a metallic core that glowed blue with what Gwil recognized as Kaia.


    ¡°What is that?¡± Gwil asked the mustached man standing beside him.


    The man didn¡¯t answer, so Gwil poked him in the ribs.


    ¡°What is that?¡±


    ¡°One of Burgermeister Jaqlov¡¯s famous Taluses,¡± the man said with a sneer.


    An alarm wailed. Gwil looked around for Leira but failed to find her. The Talus was walking away, and Gwil wanted a better look. He pushed his way through the crowd and made it back to the empty street, where he stood just behind the Talus.


    Black smog wisped from a port on its back. The rocks that made up its body were smooth as river stones. A wide rectangular block served as the body. The limbs utilized long, flat stones and ball-shaped joints. The arms ended in stubby-fingered hands. The flapping curtains on the yoke revealed two chairs inside. You can ride around in it!


    People were shouting. A flash of red.


    Everything cracked.


    Gwil flipped through the air and landed hard on his back. His vision faded. Pain flared, and then melted away as his Nirva came to life. His sight bloomed back into clarity. Ethereal mist steamed off his skin, poured from his mouth like breath in cold weather.


    Gwil sat up, dumbstruck. Everyone was gawking at him, many were laughing. He turned and saw a big red object. After a blink, he recognized the skimmer that had passed them above the city.


    One of the vehicle¡¯s gullwing doors flipped open, and a red-faced man came storming out, flapping his arms and shouting. Gwil couldn¡¯t make out what the man was saying because his head was still ringing.


    The man stood over him and then hawked and spat.


    A loogie landed on Gwil¡¯s shoulder. He wondered if this guy was drunk or addled.


    ¡°Worthless scum!¡± the man screamed, stomping his foot.

 Chapter Eight – Firstborn Son

    ¡°Useless, braindead menial!¡± the man shrieked. ¡°You¡¯ve ruined my skimmer. You could¡¯ve at least been polite enough to die.¡± He pointed a pudgy finger at Gwil. ¡°You¡¯ll wish you were dead. Go! Kiss the grill of my precious 917 Crimson Stinger. Kiss the dent!¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Still a bit dazed, Gwil didn¡¯t know what to make of this. The raving guy was short, wearing sunglasses, a silver shirt, short shorts, and furry sandals. His hair was blond and very puffy, a bit like an afro. And he wore a gem-studded tiara atop the floof.


    Gwil grimaced and then looked around, hoping for a clue. Much of the crowd had dispersed. He could see them hurrying away. Those that remained seemed amused.


    The man ripped off his sunglasses and threw them on the ground. Then he stomped them to bits.


    Gwil stared, aghast.


    The man spat at him again. Gwil rolled out of the way and got to his feet. He held up his hands. ¡°It¡¯s okay, man. No hard feelings. Let¡¯s get you some help.¡± He was sure this guy was either insane or shitfaced. Erwin the barman had taught Gwil that kindness was often the best way to deal with a disturbed drunk.


    ¡°Help me?!¡± the man bellowed. ¡°Kiss my fucking skimmer, you savage, animal piece of trash! How dare you stand on your feet and look at me? Kneel!¡± Veins bulged out of his forehead and the cords in his flabby throat were taut. His cheeks were as red as the skimmer.


    Gwil clapped him on the back. ¡°You gotta be more careful, pal. You could¡¯ve killed someone. It¡¯s dangerous to ride a horse if you¡¯re drunk, let alone that crazy machine.¡±


    The man spasmed¡ªeye twitching, knees wobbling. Gwil hoped he wouldn¡¯t have a seizure. This guy was sicker than he¡¯d thought.


    Gwil backed away and moved around to the front of the skimmer. There might have been a small dent, and a speck of paint had chipped off. As he examined the vehicle, Gwil rubbed his hip, which had taken the brunt of the impact. It felt tender, but nothing terrible. Nirva was something else.


    Gwil whipped around at the movement in his peripheral and caught the crazy man by the wrist. He had been about to strike Gwil upside the head with his fuzzy sandal.


    ¡°Braindead cretin! I¡¯ll have you drawn and quartered! I am Lord Ansoir Jaqlov, Heir to Chateau Podexia.¡±


    Gwil gently pushed the man away from him. Very theatrically, the little lord stumbled backward seven paces and then fell onto his back.


    Stifling laughter¡ªwhich he knew could make this type of drunk see red¡ªGwil went to help him up.


    Ansoir rolled away and got onto his knees. He leaned forward and started pounding his fists against the ground. ¡°Where are my guards?¡± he screeched.


    Gwil turned and hurriedly walked away. He was giving up; this guy didn¡¯t want to be helped. And if he really was the Burger¡¯s son, best not to get involved. Oh, man. Leira is gonna be mad.


    He turned at a flurry of footsteps¡ªtoo late to stop Ansoir clinging to him like a piggybacking child. Manicured fingernails began clawing at Gwil¡¯s face. The bastard was going for his eyes.


    Gwil flipped Ansoir over his shoulder, dropped him on the ground at his feet.


    ¡°Enough,¡± Gwil said.


    The entire crowd had fled at this point¡ªmost flocking to the side streets or huddling along the storefronts. It was clear that, though they were frightened, they wanted to watch the debacle. Gwil scanned the crowd but couldn¡¯t find Leira.


    Crawling on the ground, Ansoir scurried back over to the skimmer. The big stone Talus stood there too.


    Shit. Gwil heard a rumbling sound¡ªgetting closer. He took his backpack off and tossed it between two buildings. It seemed like he might be in trouble.


    A big vehicle came around the bend. It had wheels and a wagon bed on the back. Gwil realized that must be a truck¡ªcool! And it was not just one truck, but three.


    Gwil could¡¯ve run, but he stayed where he was. He kind of had a bone to pick with this place now. It all seemed like a sick joke. Was that obnoxious guy actually in charge of things? And the idiot was enslaving people just so they could keep this stupid festival going?


    The three vehicles fanned out before coming to squealing halts, encircling Gwil where he stood. Nirva burned white-hot in his veins, but he put his hands up.


    Guards poured out, twelve in all, dressed in the same uniforms as Cigar and Toothpick. Most carried spears, but a few had clubs.


    They rushed him. His hands a flurry, Gwil batted their weapons away, disarming the ones he could. A sweeping kick knocked two of them over. But a few had gotten around behind him. A woman struck the back of his head with her club, and he saw stars.


    ¡°Kill him! Cut his head off right now!¡± Ansoir shouted.


    Gwil staggered, and they piled on top of him. He tried to scramble away. He didn¡¯t want to start beating the shit out of them or things might get out of hand.


    Lowering his shoulder, Gwil plowed through a few pairs of legs, buying himself some space. He was surprised at how well it worked. Despite their weaponry, Gwil could toy with these guards, and toss them around as easily as if they were strawmen.


    The guards gave him some space after he broke through the pile, forming a line and brandishing their weapons defensively.


    ¡°Kill him, you worthless ingrates!¡± Ansoir screamed. ¡°This piece of trash struck your lord. I¡¯ll mount his head above my bed.¡±


    ¡°No can do, my lord,¡± one guard said. ¡°The sheriff¡¯s been clear that able-bodied individuals are not to be executed. Remember the macaroni incident?¡±


    Ansoir lost it at that, like a child throwing a tantrum. Gwil blew a raspberry at the idiot.


    One guard launched their spear at Gwil. He snatched it out of the air and went wide-eyed. The flowing Nirva felt comfortable. The voices went quiet, like a whispering breeze. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    His body felt as sturdy as iron and light as a feather. The spear was fragile in his hand. He could crush the wooden handle in his fist like a cookie. Everything¡ªhis surroundings, the bodies of the guards and their weapons¡ªwas etched with shimmering lines that rendered it slow and simple.


    The sound of another engine rose, and this one was not rumbling like the trucks, but screaming.


    Gwil whipped around and saw a man riding a giant bike. He wore a wide-brimmed hat.


    Ansoir and the guards were clamoring about something, but Gwil couldn¡¯t hear them over the racket.


    The man brought the shiny chromed vehicle to a smooth stop. It was a behemoth¡ªa mash of twisted mechanisms, with absurdly tall handlebars. He swung his leg over the seat in dismounting and then propped the bike on its kickstand. Gwil now stood between this new arrival and the guards.


    The stranger had an easy way about him as he strode forward, spurred boots jangling. The brim of his hat covered his face, revealing only a bushy mustache. The man wore a brown leather vest with nothing underneath, and black leather pants. His well-polished silver belt buckle was the size of a tea plate, and it read: SHERRIFF, with the ¡®I¡¯ in the shape of a nude woman¡¯s silhouette.


    ¡°The hell¡¯s going on here?¡± the man barked.


    ¡°Sheriff Jackson,¡± said one guard, ¡°This animal struck Lord Ansoir.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a Hallow!¡± cried another.


    ¡°I know,¡± the sheriff said with a drawl and a grin. He had golden teeth.


    ¡°What¡¯s that giant bike?¡± Gwil blurted.


    The sheriff raised his hands and ropes shot out of his palms. They whipped through the air, like living serpents.


    The sheriff moved his arms, manipulating the ropes like extensions of his limbs. Gwil dove out of the way, but the ropes unfurled further and looped into lassos.


    His arms and legs were both snared as the sheriff wove the ropes into knots. The ropes seared hot against his skin.


    To Gwil¡¯s eyes, the ropes had two aspects, blended but distinct. He saw the plain ropes, braided and fibrous. And he saw the prismatic essence that truly composed them. The thing that drove them into existence, that bound them to the sheriff. Nirva. The sheriff was Hallowed.


    Gwil lay there on his stomach, hog-tied¡ªwrists and ankles all bound behind his back¡ªfeeling like a fool.


    He fought with everything he had against the ropes. He¡¯d beaten a pillar of stone into dust; he could rip through a bit of rope.


    Gwil bared his teeth, writhing on the ground. With his limbs bound, he could not muster any force, could not even rip through a single strand. Maybe if he had hours, as he had with the rock spire.


    The sheriff planted his boot on Gwil¡¯s back. ¡°S¡¯called a chopper, ya damn hick.¡±


    ¡°Sheriff Jackson,¡± Ansoir squealed. ¡°Execute this rat immediately.¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up, princess,¡± the sheriff said. He squirted out a spurt of brown spit.


    It landed next to Gwil¡¯s face. The man¡¯s lip bulged` with a big wad of chewing tobacco.


    A few of the guards chuckled. Gwil saw Ansoir wither, cowering.


    ¡°Been tellin¡¯ ole Stony for years,¡± Jackson said. ¡°What the kid needs is a few good beatings.¡±


    The guards laughed again.


    ¡°Quit laughin¡¯ morons,¡± the sheriff said. ¡°Y¡¯all are lucky this Hallow didn¡¯t kill the lot of ya.¡± He stomped his foot down on Gwil¡¯s back. ¡°Now, who saw this little altercation? Did our illustrious heir show a lick of spine? Or did he cry like a little bitch?¡±


    Ansoir went stumbling over to his skimmer and fell into the seat. The guards scrambled out of the way as the engine fired up. Ansoir sped off down the street.


    The sheriff and the guards howled with laughter.


    ¡°Guess that answers that,¡± Jackson said. ¡°Boys, take a moment to imagine that little shit tellin¡¯ you what to do. And then take a moment to thank me.¡±


    The sheriff ground his heel into Gwil¡¯s back. ¡°Take this one to the Sty.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you come with us, boss?¡± a guard said nervously.


    Jackson strolled back toward his bike. ¡°He ain¡¯t gonna get loose. Kid¡¯s weak as a dandelion. Take him right to Doc Buzzard for a Stake though, eh?¡±


    With that, the sheriff fired up the engine. Smog belched from each of the bike¡¯s eight exhaust pipes. He peeled out.


    Gwil did not care for that guy.


    One of the guards picked Gwil up like a sack of potatoes. As he twisted helplessly, he glimpsed a tall woman leaning against the wall in an alleyway.


    She wore a puffy, frilly pink dress and a sunhat. The woman looked up.


    Leira.


    She winked in her one-eyed way and held up his backpack. Gwil giggled. She¡¯d managed to get herself a dress in no time at all, and with no money.


    Everything was gonna be fine.


    The guard tossed Gwil into the bed of the truck. Three of the other Podexians climbed in and took seats around him.


    ***


    It had only been about ten minutes, but Gwil¡¯s first time traveling in a vehicle was a big disappointment. However, his predicament may have skewed his opinion.


    They drove through the outskirts of the resort alongside the canyon wall. Still bound, Gwil bounced around as the truck bumped across rough, rocky terrain. His face kept smacking into the floor of the cargo bed. His nose was bloodied, and he¡¯d busted his lip open three separate times. His Nirva kept fusing it back together.


    No matter how viciously he strained and flailed, the ropes proved indestructible. The guards laughed at him, kicked him as he struggled. Whenever his shoulder dislocated, it popped back into its socket like a suction cup.


    The knot gripped his limbs like a vise. The rope still seared with the unreal fire of the sheriff¡¯s Nirva. It was a strange sensation¡ªthe ropes blazing hot, his flesh deeply cold where they bound him. His own Nirva fled from the site, paled and overwhelmed. Diluted.


    The truck slowed to a halt, but the engine kept running. One guard shouted something. Gwil tilted his head back to look up.


    The wall loomed above, rising to the sky, a mountain carved by man. Gwil felt small. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He wondered if he might¡¯ve botched things.


    Then, the sound of grinding metal. Two of the guards jumped out, and the truck lurched forward. They passed through a gate in the wall.


    They rolled into a barren yard enclosed by sheer rock walls. The truck stopped again. The guard that had remained with Gwil in the bed hoisted him up and dropped him over the side.


    He landed face first on dusty, gravelly rock. Wooden shacks and piles of rubble were scattered all throughout the yard. Haphazard scaffolding scaled one of the cliff faces.


    This place lay beyond the city, at the very end of the canyon, and near the coast. To his right, Gwil could hear the sea crashing, waging its slow, relentless war against the land.


    A guard pulled up beside him with a wheelbarrow, and a second one picked him up and dropped him in. They both wore gasmasks. Gwil shifted to see ahead as they wheeled him forward.


    They entered a massive tunnel. Gwil gaped. What could burrow through so much rock, through a mountain? The tiny blue lights that glowed within revealed no detail beyond vast depth.


    The stench was horrific, like burnt rubber mixed with rancid meat. Gwil clenched his teeth against his retching.


    It was cold inside, not just the damp coolness of a cave, but frigid, stiff air that cut to the bone. He¡¯d stopped wrestling with the ropes, and his Nirva had faded away.


    They passed a pair of guards heading the opposite direction. The man pushing the wheelbarrow said, ¡°Is the doc in his lab?¡±


    ¡°Think so,¡± one answered, his voice muffled by his mask.


    Incomprehensible machinery lined the walls. Gwil saw a huge drill that looked like it could be driven, and a huge thing with an array of corkscrews sticking out everywhere.


    They came to a metal wall embedded in the side of the tunnel. One guard rapped the butt of his spear against the door.


    ¡°Who is it?¡± called a high-pitched, raspy voice. Gwil thought of the way house cats screech when they¡¯re fighting.


    ¡°New slave,¡± the guard said. ¡°A Hallow.¡±


    ¡°Heehee. Wonderful.¡± The door squeaked open.


    Gwil gasped.


    The man who answered wore all white, and a crazy pair of goggles with small telescopes for lenses. He looked like an insect. He had glowing blue skin.


    ¡°Meet Doctor Buzzard,¡± the guard said as he pushed the wheelbarrow through the door and dumped Gwil onto the floor.


    The doctor fiddled with his goggles and said, ¡°A fine specimen,¡± while rubbing his hands together.


    ¡°You got him from here, doc?¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, go away,¡± Buzzard squeaked in his feline voice.


    The heavy metal door slammed shut behind the guards. Uh-oh. Gwil wanted nothing to do with this creep.


    One last try. His Nirva flared with terrible desperation. He spent everything he had. He could feel his muscles ripping and stitching, ripping and stitching.


    Nothing.


    ¡°Mmmmm. A fine specimen indeed,¡± Buzzard said. Though the man was very short, he had ridiculously long arms, like a monkey. His fingers dragged on the floor as he walked.


    The doctor was bald, except for a few odd patches of white-blue hair that grew like bundles of wheat. Flaky skin covered his exposed scalp, and jagged black streaks writhed beneath his skin, like varicose veins.


    Gwil gasped. The doctor practically oozed Kaia.

 Chapter Nine - Vaporized

    Doctor Buzzard¡¯s lab was a cluttered mess of tables and strange objects and broken machines. A forest of glass, with beakers and vials and flasks and flagons of all shapes and sizes, full of powders and herbs and slimes. Some bubbled over flames, others contained mice or other living creatures in various twisted states.


    The doctor approached Gwil, holding a syringe and a small dropper full of swirling silver liquid. ¡°First a paralytic,¡± he wheezed, ¡°so you can¡¯t attack me.¡±


    Nirva erupted from Gwil¡¯s body, filling the lab with a glimmering haze. His bones cracked as he strained against the ropes. The cacophony rose, clamoring voices, screaming with such raw agony that they stripped Gwil of his senses. A noxious black-red tide rose out of the floor, poured from the walls, flooding the lab¡ªthe foul Yalda¡¯blood that veils the World. The voices cried out in harmony, ¡°This is what we are.¡±


    And then the hellish sea vanished.


    The ropes bound him as tight as ever. Doctor Buzzard seemed wholly unaware; he¡¯d only stumbled back at the impulse.


    ¡°Heehee,¡± Buzzard tittered. ¡°You¡¯re a fighter.¡±


    Breathless, Gwil said nothing.


    Doctor Buzzard brandished the syringe at Gwil as if feeding a dangerous beast. With a quick jab, he stuck the needle through Gwil¡¯s pant leg into his thigh and pushed the plunger.


    Numbness scoured his body. Everything went limp. ¡°Shitfuck,¡± was what he tried to say, but his jaw was slack and his tongue floppy, so only a garbled groan came out.


    ¡°And you¡¯re quite fresh, aren¡¯t you? Heehee. I think the sheriff made a risky gamble letting those mundane men bring you here by themselves. Too much confidence in his Invoke. Jackson is a fine specimen too, yes indeed, but you¡¯re brimming with potential. Alas, it will never flourish. Heehee.¡±


    Gwil felt like a sunbaked fish frying on a rock. His brain went frantic as all of its commands were refused. Pins and needles tingled across his skin.


    The doctor moved somewhere out of sight. ¡°Have you ever heard of Erithist?¡± After a beat he said, ¡°Whoopsadaisy, very busy mind, forgive me. But I love to chitchat while I work. And don¡¯t you worry, the paralytic will wear off soon and your faculties will return to you. I¡¯ll have something else to keep you in check.¡±


    Gwil could only think of how badly he wanted to grab this guy, swing him around by his long arms, and smash all this glass to bits.


    ¡°Erithist is a very special substance,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°An alchemical transmutation of the common chemical mercury. It has a unique and antithetical relationship with the anomaly that we call Nirva. It¡¯s quite a complex affair, but the relevant bit is this: Direct physical contact with even a splinter¡¯s worth of Erithist will completely neutralize a Hallowed individual¡¯s ability to channel Nirva, as well as engendering fatigue. Of course, the deadening effect ends when contact breaks. Furthermore, Erithist eradicates Nirva constructs with ease. A few drops on the sheriff¡¯s ropes, and they¡¯ll turn to ash, as I¡¯m about to demonstrate.¡±


    Gwil heard a sizzling sound, and his arms and legs flopped to the floor.


    ¡°Now for the Stake,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Do you know what a Stake is?¡±


    Gwil thought of dropping Doctor Buzzard off the top of that gigantic wall.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you a minute to calm down and completely quell your Nirva,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°I suggest you take it, heehee. Otherwise, I¡¯ll use your blood for my fountain pen.


    ¡°You see, a Stake is a nefarious tool used to safely incarcerate Hallows. It is¡­¡± He went over to a table and retrieved a metal ring. ¡°This collar. I¡¯ll put it on your neck, and then, look here, it¡¯s quite fascinating, actually.¡±


    He held the collar in front of Gwil¡¯s face and pointed to a block-shaped mechanism on the side. The tip of a silver nail gleamed within¡ªthe flat end protruded slightly from the outer side of the block.


    ¡°Erithist is terribly expensive, you see,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°It even makes Kaia look cheap. So this invention is quite handy for its frugalness. It works like this: Erithist has a magnet-like attraction to Nirva. Once the collar is attached, the Stake will be in line with your jugular. A single breath of Nirva and, heehee, you¡¯ll earn your second death. Because of Erithist¡¯s unique properties, a Hallow¡¯s enhanced durability cannot block it. Even if you had an Invoke that turned your skin into titanium, it would slip right through.


    ¡°Now, I imagine you may be asking yourself, why not simply imbed the needle so that the Hallow cannot use Nirva at all? This method comes with a level of psychological torture, which is excellent for fostering obedience. Additionally, the effects of fatigue are avoided, so that you can still be an effective worker. Ready?¡±


    Gwil might have been troubled by that, since he had no idea how to control his Nirva¡ªit flowed of its own volition. But he didn¡¯t worry at all. He would not die in this awful place that was barely a stone¡¯s throw from Alnam. There was something he needed to do first.


    And if he was wrong, it sounded quick and painless, at least.


    He took a few deep breaths. The numbness was ebbing away. He could twitch his fingers and toes.


    ¡°Ready or not,¡± Buzzard said. He put the collar around Gwil¡¯s neck and clamped it shut, then took a moment to examine the fit. ¡°You¡¯re the only Hallow we have, and the first in a couple years. Congratulations.¡± The doctor¡¯s goggles made him look expressionless and inhuman, which added a lot to his eerie visage.


    ¡°I will spare you the indignity of being stripped and dressed by me.¡± He threw a tattered gray jumpsuit at Gwil. ¡°I¡¯m not a barbarian, and I¡¯m sure you¡¯re not in any rush to get to the mines, heehee. We¡¯ll have a pleasant chat while we wait for the paralytic to wear off. I expect you can already wiggle your toes.¡±


    Buzzard raised an overlong arm and pointed at Gwil. ¡°And don¡¯t even think about trying to attack me.¡± A glowing bead of Kaia clung to his fingertip like tree sap.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ¡°Oh, dear! I neglected to mention¡ªyou must be careful. If you sustain a serious enough injury whilst working in the mines, you will be unable to prevent your Nirva from kicking in and you will die, so be mindful of that.¡±


    Gwil was past sick of Buzzard¡¯s yammering, but dammit, he was curious. Leira had said that Kaia was poisonous, but the doctor looked like he would drink it like juice.


    ¡°Why are you blue?¡± Gwil said, but it came out like ¡°Aira oo bluh?¡± His tongue felt so fuzzy and heavy.


    Buzzard seemed to be experienced with deciphering medicinally slurred words. He grinned a nasty grin beneath his telescopic goggles. ¡°That¡¯s my favorite subject. Prepare for a biographical dissertation.¡±


    Oh no¡­


    ¡°I was always a curious boy. My mother claimed that she knew I¡¯d be a scientist from the moment I emerged from the womb. She was a scientist, too, of course. A true genius. My hero. And you see, that¡¯s where my fascination with Kaia began.¡±


    A glowing tear leaked from his goggles. Buzzard dramatically flicked it away. ¡°My mother was an engineer in a Kaia plant out in Veirga. She was heading an initiative to set up a Kaia-fueled plumbing system across the entire region.


    ¡°She poured her soul into that project. Always working all through the night. I often slept beneath her desk. That¡¯s the kind of person she was. Relentless. Innovative.


    ¡°One bright summer day, there was an incident, and the Kaia plant exploded. My compassionate, brilliant mother and four hundred others were vaporized.


    ¡°She was a wonderful woman. She gave her life in an effort to make this harsh World a more comfortable place for everyone. Her name was Rosalind. Now, I must go on knowing that she rots in hell.


    ¡°I was left alone, with nothing but my own genius to keep me company. My polymathic interests morphed into singular obsession. I was well-suited, of course, to Kaia research, being Blueborn because of my mother¡¯s exposure during pregnancy.¡±


    Gwil tried to wrangle his tongue to speak, but it wasn¡¯t quite there yet.


    ¡°I entered college and was expelled in my second semester following a, heehee, controversial experiment. It turned out that the supposed place of learning was actually a haven for myopic imbeciles.


    ¡°Left to wander, I eventually crossed paths with Burgermeister Jaqlov. He had recently discovered the subterranean Kaia deposits in this land and had need of a learned engineer to both extract and properly utilize the miracle substance. That was¡­ hell, has it really been thirty years?¡±


    Gwil¡¯s mouth still hung open, so his jaw couldn¡¯t drop any further.


    ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s not perfect, but I¡¯m able to pursue my research with an almost-sufficient budget, and free of¡­ small-minded quandaries, shall we say?¡±


    ¡°¡¯Aia ¡®ine?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Pardon?¡± Buzzard said, adjusting his goggles. ¡°Yes, Kaia mine. Didn¡¯t you know? Heehee. That¡¯s your livelihood now. Kaia is Podexia¡¯s primary export. How else do you think Jaqlov affords all his gaudy d¨¦cor? That vainglorious fool.


    ¡°The veins here are not particularly rich, but perfectly suitable for my purposes. And small enough that the Leviathan isn¡¯t breathing down our necks. In this remote corner of the World, with the Stormlands on our northern border, we hardly have to worry about insurgents and bandits. Now, please don¡¯t interrupt me again.¡±


    Shit. That did not sound good. He managed to sit up, propping himself on his elbow. ¡°Poison,¡± he said. ¡°¡¯Ow¡¯re you alive?¡±


    ¡°Idiot boy, pay attention,¡± Buzzard snapped, flailing his long arms. ¡°I told you I was born with mutations and a hardy tolerance. I was on death¡¯s door some years back, but a month straight living in a vat of Kaia set me straight. My body runs on the stuff, and I need regular doses in order to survive. Of course, the Kaia will win in the end. It always does. Heehee.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°What is Kaia?¡± Buzzard squeaked. ¡°You ask like it¡¯s the simplest thing in the World. The ignorance of the youth these days. We¡¯re doomed! Answering that question has been my life¡¯s work.¡± Buzzard lifted his goggles for the first time. His eyes were so big and buggy that he didn¡¯t look much different. They glowed even brighter than his skin. ¡°Kaia, much like Nirva, is a fruit of the Apocalypse.¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s voice had hit a crescendo. He rocked up and down on his heels. The doctor bent down so that he and Gwil were face to face.


    Gwil didn¡¯t know if Buzzard had any strange powers, but the man didn¡¯t look too sturdy. One good punch could knock out all those crooked teeth, and then¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s such a wondrous World, isn¡¯t it?¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get you cuffed before you try to kill me. Heehee. Put on the jumpsuit¡ªyou should be capable now.¡±


    Gwil clenched his teeth. Buzzard lowered his goggles, and they regarded each other.


    Gwil let the moment pass. Not yet. Deeper. He would let them drag him deeper into this pit.


    Legs wobbling, he stood. Using the edge of the table to stay upright, he stripped down to his briefs and stepped into the jumpsuit. The faded gray garb was tattered and stinking, covered with iridescent stains.


    Buzzard cleared his throat, the sound a wheezing whistle. ¡°Normally, slaves keep their own shoes. But the state of yours are just so appalling that it¡¯ll actually be more economically wise to provide you with new ones.¡±


    He went into a closet, rummaged around a bit, and then returned with a pair of brand-new black work boots.


    ¡°Thanks!¡± Gwil said. ¡°These are nice.¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s eyebrows raised above the rim of his goggles. He shook his head. ¡°Now the chains.¡± He pointed to a pile of iron balls beneath the table. At the same time, the doctor picked up a strange metallic device¡ªobviously a weapon of some sort. ¡°I¡¯ll have you put it on yourself, now that you¡¯re almost fully mobile.¡±


    Gwil rolled one of the hefty things out. A chain was attached to an eyelet on the ball. On its other end, a shackle. The doctor gestured with his weapon.


    Gwil looked at Buzzard¡¯s mechanism-laden face. ¡°You don¡¯t seem so bad. Why are you doing this?¡±


    The doctor wrinkled his nose. ¡°Obsession.¡± He raised the shiny silver weapon. The thing screamed and unleashed a beam of purple fire. Gwil heard his hair sizzling as the weapon blasted a hole through the laboratory wall behind him.


    ¡°Get on with it, slave,¡± Buzzard said.


    Gwil bent down and closed the shackle around his ankle. Then Buzzard tossed him a pair of handcuffs. Gwil locked both wrists on his own¡ªthe chain afforded enough mobility that it would not impede labor.


    Buzzard threw open the laboratory door. ¡°Off with you,¡± he said. ¡°Get out. I have a date with my sweetheart tonight.¡±


    One of the guards was waiting outside. Dragging the iron ball, Gwil walked toward the door. He stopped in front of Buzzard.


    ¡°You suck. Your mom would hate you.¡±


    Gwil strode out of the laboratory. Buzzard slammed the door.


    The guard shoved Gwil forward, and they proceeded deeper into the tunnel.


    They took a turn down an offshoot. Stunted howls echoed down the rocky hall. A musty, organic smell mixed with the burnt scent of the Kaia.


    Ahead was a large cavern. He could see a horde of shadowy figures writhing in the gloom. A hundred at least. Many of the silhouettes possessed a faint glow. He heard a discordant buzzing sound, like a bunch of flies going mad over a carcass.


    The guard keyed open a gate. Gwil walked through.


    He saw their faces, gaunt and pallid. Mouths agape, eyes unseeing. Most were slumped over or lying flat on the ground. But some seemed afflicted with some wild madness, dancing around like rabid animals, cackling with ecstatic lunacy.


    The guard grabbed Gwil by the collar and yanked him back. ¡°The Sty is your home until you croak. This lot¡¯s shift starts in three hours.¡±


    The guard threw Gwil forward and then went back through the gate, closing it behind him.


    Vacant eyes traced Gwil as he entered the cavern proper and sat down against the wall at the edge of the space.


    The buzzing sound¡ªit was their lungs.


    Gwil knew he was a fool. All that time on Alnam, he thought he¡¯d felt like a prisoner. Idiot. That was nothing. His had been a life of sweet, blessed ignorance. These people, their wheezing breaths screamed of their suffering.


    This horror, beneath the ground. And they¡¯re dancing and feasting up above?


    Disgusting. For a moment, Gwil mistook his fury for Nirva, and thought the Stake was about to pierce his neck.


    This can¡¯t be the World.

 Chapter Ten – Holes in the Ground

    A few years back, a cruel disease swept through Mayor Guice¡¯s cattle farm. Gwil had been called upon to help deal with the dying things.


    The poor creatures couldn¡¯t control their spines, their gaits stiff and twisted. The usually docile animals turned erratic and angry.


    This place, the Sty, resembled that fetid pasture.


    It reeked of sweat and sick and shit. Even the ones that didn¡¯t glow fully had a tint of blue to their skin, as if suffocating. The sound of their wheezing lungs was head-splitting. The undertone of ceaseless murmuring, so like the Nirva whispers. And the loud, wild ones¡ªthey sounded strangled, attempting to stomp out misery with madness.


    No one paid him any mind, so Gwil sat and watched.


    A few among the horde had strength and sanity for the many. They moved through the heaped bodies, dragging their iron balls, giving out water, treating injuries in the meager ways they could.


    Those few spoke louder than necessary, as if to drown out the dismal ambiance. Their voices were soft with sympathy, stony with grit.


    Gwil fumed. He wanted to jump out of his skin. Those people were fierce. Strong. That the fruits of their strength were so meager¡­ He couldn¡¯t stand it. Is this really the World?


    One man stood out, if only because of his size¡ªbroad chested, built like a gorilla. He exceeded even Leira¡¯s willowy height. Gwil would look like a child beside him.


    He¡¯d torn off the sleeves of his jumpsuit, and his biceps were nearly as wide as Gwil¡¯s waist. The man had cropped red hair, not orange red, but bright red, like blood or a tomato. He had a small hoop piercing through his septum, like a bull.


    No frailty or emaciation there. Gwil might have thought the huge man some thieving tyrant if not for the toothless grins that greeted him as he moved through the mob.


    He was young¡ªno older than thirty¡ªand his face would¡¯ve looked gentle were it not so furrowed with worry. The man had amber-colored eyes, like a cat, and though the light in the cavern was dim, his eyes blazed like steel in the forge.


    Gwil knew it in his bones¡ªthat was no ordinary person. The man¡¯s cold resolve in this wretched place was as striking as Skuld¡¯s grin while riding the stormy sea.


    He¡¯d been staring at the man for some time when the sound of the clanging gate filled the cavern.


    A few did not even lift their heads, but most were driven into a frenzy. Gwil shifted to crouch on the balls of his feet.


    Of the hundred-some slaves, half rushed down the tunnel like stampeding animals. Gwil leaned out to see, but the mob blocked his view. Then he heard the distinct clattering of small pieces of metal.


    Food. Only food could do this.


    Men and women trickled back into the cavern, each carrying steaming tin cups in both of their cuffed hands.


    Awed, Gwil watched them give out food to those who hadn¡¯t gotten up. Heads were cradled, helping hands fed those in need. No arguing. No fighting. Every single person would be fed.


    Gwil sat near an old man. By far the oldest prisoner, so old that ancient would be closer to the mark. He hadn¡¯t moved an inch since Gwil had arrived.


    ¡°Hey, are you okay?¡± Gwil asked, tapping him, not entirely sure the man was alive. ¡°Do you want me to get you some food?¡±


    The old man groaned and flapped his hand weakly.


    A woman stood nearby, scanning the prisoners like a hawk, holding two cups in her hands.


    Spotting them, she approached and got the old man up, helped him eat. Gwil glimpsed the contents of the cup¡ªsludgy, brown stew. If it had a scent, the stench of the Sty dwarfed it.


    The woman had matted black hair that didn¡¯t quite reach her shoulders and chalk-white skin. Tattoos covered her face. They went around her eyes and mouth, across her nose.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    What Gwil first thought was a twining, vine-like pattern, he now recognized as a swirling, elegant script that he¡¯d never seen before.


    Not just her face, but her neck, too. Her sleeves were rolled up, and her hands and palms, her forearms¡ªall covered with tattooed writing.


    Their eyes met, and she held out a cup of stew.


    Gwil shook his head.


    She clicked her tongue. ¡°I know you¡¯re new. And I know it¡¯s hard. But if you don¡¯t keep up your strength, you¡¯ll spiral.¡±


    ¡°No thank you,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I¡¯m not hungry.¡±


    The woman scowled. ¡°Don¡¯t make me force it down your-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll eat next time,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I promise.¡±


    She shook her head and stalked off.


    Gwil sighed. He wasn¡¯t trying to act tough or make some lofty gesture. His stomach was churning, and he was sure he¡¯d vomit if he tried to eat. It would¡¯ve been unforgiveable to waste something so precious.


    The old man¡¯s cup clattered to the ground as he slumped against the wall.


    ¡°Feeling a little better?¡± Gwil asked.


    The old man drew a whistling breath, hacked up some phlegm. ¡°W-where did you come from? I¡¯m so sorry. That you wound up here.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright!¡± Gwil said, forcing a cheerful tone. ¡°Hey old man, don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m gonna help you.¡±


    The old man shook his head.


    Gwil nodded. ¡°I am. Promise. What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Diom.¡±


    Gwil reached over, clasped the man¡¯s fragile, wrinkly hand and shook it. ¡°I¡¯m Gwil. Just a little bit longer, okay?¡±


    ¡°D-did you bring the rain?¡± Diom rasped. His eyes closed, and a moment later, he began snoring.


    Gwil leaned back. With the meal done, a muted stillness blanketed the Sty. Most had laid down to sleep. But the frenzied ones continued to wail.


    ***


    The gate opened again and this time everyone rose. Moving with obedient haste, the slaves filed into rows.


    Fear. Only fear could do that.


    Gwil fell in at the back of the nearest row. Up the tunnel, gruff voices barked, and whips cracked.


    ¡°Move!¡±


    They moved, plodding down the tunnel, one hundred iron balls scraping against the stone.


    Gwil passed the big metal pot that must¡¯ve held their stew. It lay on its side. Its interior was foul, burnt and caked with layer upon layer of gunk.


    ¡°Halt!¡±


    Gwil went up on his toes to see over the crowd. The front of the pack had reached the threshold of this offshoot. Ahead of them, another group of prisoners crossed through the main tunnel.


    He clenched his fists, fingernails stabbing into his palms. More?


    When the last of the other group had passed, the lead guard shouted, ¡°Move!¡±


    They entered the main tunnel, followed it deeper into the mines.


    The buzzing of their lungs grew more frantic as they lost their breath.


    They passed a dozen more offshoots before turning down one. The place was a maze. Gwil couldn¡¯t believe that it was underground, inside the World. They¡¯d tunneled through so much solid rock.


    The air grew colder with every step. The rotten meat-and-chemical smell of the Kaia became overwhelming. He¡¯d been queasy since he made it to the Sty.


    A dam broke. He stumbled and then sprayed the wall with vomit.


    Hands grabbed him, pulled him back in line while keeping him upright. Gwil turned to see the tattooed woman.


    ¡°Dipshit,¡± she said. ¡°I told you to eat.¡±


    ¡°Think that would¡¯ve made it worse,¡± Gwil mumbled. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it,¡± she said. ¡°Kaia kills nice and slow.¡±


    ¡°How do you all do this?¡± Gwil rasped.


    The woman¡¯s smile cut like a knife between the ribs. ¡°Thank the Kaia for that, too. It breeds a deranged sort of delirium. Like fever madness, but worse. So, we just keep going and going, until-¡±


    ¡°Halt!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on you,¡± the woman whispered as she went back to her place.


    Gwil grimaced. He felt fine now. The first whiff of that stench had crashed into him harder than that idiot¡¯s skimmer.


    They¡¯d reached the entrance to another cavern. The entire space shined with bright white light. Even from this distance, Gwil had to squint against it. An array of poles with blocks of beaming lights at their tops, bright as little suns.


    Gwil trudged along as the mob trickled into the cavern. He spotted a couple more of the giant machines with drills and blades attached.


    Then he realized something that gave him pause. Stalagmites and stalactites jutted from the floor and ceiling. At least parts of these caverns must have been a natural formation. How? Alnam had a few small caves, but nothing like this, not even close.


    Dozens of perfectly round holes dimpled the ground. Each was about six meters across. Gwil thought of a wasp hive. He sure hoped there wouldn¡¯t be big wasps down there.


    Dusty, glimmering blue haze rose from the holes. Gwil swallowed to force down another surge of nausea.


    A host of guards directed the prisoners toward the holes. Gwil reached the front. A masked woman handed him a pickaxe and sent him toward the center of the cavern.


    The guard that stood there pointed Gwil to the hole beside him. It would¡¯ve been so easy to push him in.


    The pit was about two stories deep. Rickety scaffolding led the way down. More of the bright lights illuminated the bottom, revealing that more tunnels spread out from the bottom of the pit.


    Gwil made his way down the creaky structure. The slaves ahead of him went slowly¡ªthe steps were crooked and slick.


    The fumes made his eyes water. But his tongue had gone numb, and he didn¡¯t taste anything anymore.


    Reaching the bottom, his boots sank into something like clay. The muck was frigid¡ªit seemed impossible that it was not frozen solid.


    Four tunnels spoked out from the base of the pit. The clinking pickaxes sounded like rain on a metal roof. A guard sent Gwil down one of the paths.

 Chapter Eleven – Pretty White Dress

    Leira was having a lovely time. She¡¯d gotten her massage, and it¡¯d been glorious. That woman had the hands of an angel. She¡¯d stayed the night in an adorable, rustic inn and slept in what had to be the fluffiest bed in all the World.


    When she realized Gwil had cooked up a disaster, she¡¯d picked out a stupid-looking and well-dressed man from the crowd, feigned that she was a panicked little lady, and swooned into his arms. Then she¡¯d relieved the man of his hefty purse and gone straight to the nearest shop.


    She might¡¯ve been a freak in that bumfuck village¡ªwhat was it called? Whatever. Here in the real world, she was exotic. Everyone loves flowers.


    Leira had picked a good mark¡ªthe fool had been carrying three thousand doubloons as pocket change. Bastard wouldn¡¯t even miss it.


    She¡¯d bought herself a sunhat, which she loved, and a hot pink dress which she thought she¡¯d love, but now hated. Too big, too floofy, too frilly. She could barely walk. Fortunately, she had plenty of money to buy a new one, or two.


    Presently, she enjoyed a late breakfast in a posh little restaurant. She sat by the window, basking in the gentle sunlight. On the table, a platter full of delectable pastries. She picked a strawberry one and popped it into her mouth.


    It was one of those places with white tablecloths and waiters that acted as if her presence was a blessing. The prices were appalling, but she wasn¡¯t the one paying, so.


    Next, a lemon tartlet. She moaned. Even tastier. This was exactly the sort of thing Leira loved to do most. If only everything weren¡¯t so rotten.


    She sighed, lamenting the World and her diminishing pile of pastries. It took a special kind of idiot to get hit by a skimmer on a road with no actual traffic. For fuck¡¯s sake, an alarm had blared to warn everyone.


    That silly little bumpkin. She¡¯d give him an earful once she rescued him from his predicament.


    These sorts of rural, industrial settlements could be tricky, though. No two were ever quite the same. With one wealthy, iron-fisted mogul ruling over everything, they were always dictated by whatever idiosyncrasies ensnared their ruler.


    She wished she¡¯d put her foot down. They shouldn¡¯t have come here. Poor Gwil. He must have been heartbroken. Years of waiting, and they¡¯d walked right into this horrid place.


    Not everywhere was so bad. Most places, yes, but not everywhere. And that made those little pockets of goodness even more precious. She hoped this wouldn¡¯t forever soil the World in his eyes.


    Dainty as a princess, Leira wiped off the crumbs and jelly that were smeared across her mouth with a silk napkin that was so smooth it didn¡¯t even work well as a napkin. She reached across the table, took the clean one from the empty seat, and stuffed it into her new purse. So elegant.


    Leira stood, dropped a handful of coins on the table, and strode across the dining hall. She curtsied to the cute waitress and then stepped outside.


    This street was nice and calm¡ªjust little shops and residences for the Podexian aristocrats. She could¡¯ve slept right on one of the benches, but¡­ Time to get to work. She needed information. Clever as she was, Leira had already gleaned that there was some sort of soiree happening tonight at the Burgermeister¡¯s manor.


    She needed to find a gossipy person and hoped to kill two birds with one stone. She moseyed on down the street. Flowering ivy covered the brick storefronts.


    Leira breathed deep the sweet scents as she perused the window displays, searching for something that would suit her. This place would be so lovely if it wasn¡¯t a thin veil draped over a disgusting pile of shit. She kicked over a flowerpot as she passed, grinned at the satisfying crack of the ceramic.


    ¡°Ooo!¡± There was a mannequin wearing a dress that caught her eye. Knee-length, form-fitting, white and trimmed with a red that perfectly matched the hue of her eyeflower. Leira despised the thing more than anything else in the World, but she looked so good in that color that she didn¡¯t care.


    She opened the door and stepped inside. A bell rang at her entering.


    ¡°Hello, my lady,¡± the middle-aged woman behind the counter said. ¡°How may I help you?¡±


    This woman was no slave. Her fancy jewelry made that clear. The owner, then; probably a wealthy hobbyist. Her false nails didn¡¯t look suitable for seamstress work.


    ¡°Good evening, my lady,¡± Leira said, pitching her voice and smiling. ¡°I already know exactly what I want. That dress in the window is splendid. I must have it.¡±


    The shopkeeper smiled. ¡°I knew that¡¯s what you¡¯d say. You will look stunning.¡±


    ¡°I know, right?¡± Leira said. She pinched one of the many frills on her bright pink dress and held it up. ¡°I bought this on a whim, and I¡¯ve decided I don¡¯t care for it.¡±


    The woman snorted. ¡°Of course you don¡¯t. That¡¯s one of Wanda¡¯s. She has awful taste, so garish. And she¡¯s a complete bitch to boot. Her girls are bumbling fools, too.¡±


    Leira mustered up her most obnoxious laugh.


    ¡°Would you like to go right to a fitting then, lady?¡± the shopkeeper¡¯s voice hung on the last syllable.


    ¡°Leira.¡±


    ¡°Lady Leira. A pleasure. I am Lady Adeline.¡± She turned and shouted, ¡°Bethany! Get in here!¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    A younger woman came out of the back room, giving Leira a small bow as she shuffled around the counter. She wore a plain, ragged dress. Bethany looked to be a teenager, but her hands were so beaten-up and scarred that they could¡¯ve belonged to an eighty-year-old.


    Ah, there it is.


    Bethany smiled, tilting her head as she looked Leira over. She clasped her hands. ¡°Oh! It must be the red and white Atai, right, my lady?¡± She looked between both Leira and her owner.


    ¡°Correct, dear,¡± Adeline said. Bethany went over to retrieve the dress from the mannequin.


    ¡°She does brilliant work,¡± Adeline said, nodding toward Bethany. ¡°Absolutely exquisite. I¡¯ve been training her since before she could walk.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re too kind, mistress,¡± Bethany called over her shoulder.


    Leira resisted the urge to tear her hair out. At the same time, she thanked herself for thinking to buy new underwear yesterday. The threadbare things she¡¯d been wearing would¡¯ve poked a nasty hole in her wealthy guise.


    Adeline led Leira over to a stool and had her take off the frilly dress. The shopkeeper laughed. ¡°Shall we just throw that one in the garbage?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes,¡± Leira said. ¡°Ah, but actually¡ªmight I give it to Bethany? Perhaps she can turn it into something wearable.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I like that idea,¡± Adeline said, rubbing her hands together like a mischievous fly. ¡°I like it very much. What do you think, Bethany?¡±


    ¡°Whatever the mistress desires.¡±


    With a scoff, Adeline tossed the pink bundle into the corner.


    Bethany helped Leira into the new dress and then tied up the laces in the back and helped her up onto the stool.


    ¡°Oh, it hardly needs much adjusting at all!¡± Bethany said as she circled around, tugging at random bits. ¡°It¡¯s perfect for you, my lady.¡±


    The girl set to work, wielding her sewing needle as deftly as a master swordswoman.


    Leira cleared her throat, softly of course, and said, ¡°My lady, I wondered if you might help me with a little problem. It¡¯s¡­ a trifle embarrassing.¡±


    Adeline¡¯s eyes lit up at that. She leaned forward.


    ¡°This is my first time visiting Chateau Podexia,¡± Leira began. ¡°And¡­ oh, I¡¯m so ashamed. One of our idiot servants¡ªnot mine, my brother¡¯s¡ªgot himself arrested by the Burgermeister¡¯s guards. Acting belligerent at the casino, the fool. I¡¯m sure someone as esteemed as you are privy to all of Lord Jaqlov¡¯s designs. Do¡ªdo you have any idea what this imbecilic slave¡¯s fate might be?¡±


    ¡°Of course I do,¡± Adeline said. ¡°We only do one thing with criminals in Podexia. Your slave will have been sent straight to the mines.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Leira said. ¡°Beyond the wall? Is it very awful there?¡±


    Adeline raised an eyebrow. ¡°In the Kaia mines?¡±


    Leira¡¯s heart skipped several beats.


    ¡°I can scarcely imagine something more awful,¡± Adeline continued. ¡°It¡¯s not even suitable for insects.¡±


    ¡°Mhm,¡± Leira said. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Idiot! Fuck!


    Things were much worse than she¡¯d thought. If Podexia housed Kaia veins, then Jaqlov was powerful and important. He would answer directly to a Leviathan Monarch.


    Leira shook her head, forgetting herself. It¡¯ll be fine. It¡¯ll be fine. She was pretty sure there weren¡¯t any Leviathan forces here. Nothing had changed. She just needed to get Gwil and get the hell out as soon as possible, and that¡¯s what she had intended to do, anyway.


    A shiver ran down Leira¡¯s spine. It¡¯s not her. It can¡¯t be her. Please. Her twitch had made Bethany yelp.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t hoping to get this slave back, are you?¡± Adeline said, peering over her spectacles. ¡°Lord Jaqlov would never relinquish a prisoner to someone of your station. Your slave violated the Burgermeister¡¯s law and acted as a blight upon Podexia.¡±


    ¡°Mm?¡± Leira waved her hands. ¡°No, no. I only hoped I could execute the animal myself. But if he will suffer in the mines, it¡¯s all the same.¡±


    Adeline laughed. ¡°Oh, in that case, you certainly wouldn¡¯t want to execute the wretch yourself. A slow, agonizing death will come to him in the mines. It¡¯s best he stays there.¡±


    Leira laughed too. ¡°Very good, very good. Thank you, my lady.¡± Dammit! Gwil, you absolute, utter moron.


    ¡°I must say, Lady Leira,¡± Adeline said. ¡°The splice of your eye is spectacular! Can you still see out of it?¡±


    Leira smiled. ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°And whereabouts did you get such exquisite work done?¡±


    Leira fluttered her normal eyelashes whilst conjuring up some bullshit. ¡°There¡¯s a doctor in Veirga who calls himself a botanical cosmetologist. A friend of mine got her breasts turned into cantaloupes. They even grow if you can believe that.¡±


    ¡°Oh my!¡± Adeline said, covering her mouth. ¡°How fascinating. Veirga? My sweetheart has spent time working there. It sounds marvelous. Very advanced. It¡¯s quite far away, is it not?¡±


    ¡°Yes, quite,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯ve been cruising the World on my father¡¯s yacht and¡­¡± She laughed. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve lost track of my whereabouts.¡±


    ¡°All done!¡± Bethany said, stepping away.


    ¡°Tha-¡±


    ¡°Ugh, bring her the mirror, girl. Honestly!¡± Adeline snapped. She looked at Leira and rolled her eyes.


    Leira hopped down from the stool and looked in the mirror that Bethany had rolled over.


    She saw herself and smiled. That didn¡¯t happen often. The dress fit like a glove, without being so tight that it would impede her ability to move. Even the lotus looked less detestable.


    Her time in the sun had put some color back into her skin. And her veins were less visible, so she looked less like a gelatinous corpse. A fresh body always made her feel like a naked rodent for the first few days.


    ¡°Thank you, Bethany,¡± Leira said, still beaming. ¡°It¡¯s wonderful. Oh, and you too, Lady Adeline.¡±


    The woman¡¯s sneer was fleeting. ¡°Will you wear it to the Silver Gala tonight? You simply must.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I wasn¡¯t-¡± Leira clasped her hands and looked down at her feet. These idiots were too easy. ¡°I only arrived two days ago, and I¡¯ve yet to make many acquaintances. The journey was very tiring, you see? I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve not been invited.¡±


    Adeline swatted at the air. ¡°Nonsense, consider this your invitation. Not that such a beautiful lady needs an invitation.¡±


    ¡°It will be held up at the Burgermeister¡¯s manor.¡± She did a stupid little dance with her fingers. ¡°So, we won¡¯t have to deal with the rabble from the resort.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that sounds delightful,¡± Leira said. ¡°What an honor. Thank you, my lady.¡±


    ¡°My pleasure, dear,¡± Adeline said. ¡°It¡¯s perfect, actually. My sweetheart won¡¯t be able to accompany me¡ªdrowning in his work, as always¡ªso I was going to be alone.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a date,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°I¡¯ll meet you at the cable car depot atop the plateau. Ten o¡¯clock sharp. Don¡¯t make me wait.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dare.¡± Leira gathered her old dress from the floor, and, while bundling it up, stuffed three hundred doubloons into the folds. She handed it to Bethany and tried to wink, but that wasn¡¯t really something she could do.


    ¡°How much do I owe you, my lady?¡± Leira asked.


    ¡°For you, dear, nine hundred doubloons.¡±


    ¡°Fuck me sideways,¡± Leira muttered under her breath.


    ¡°Pardon?¡±


    ¡°Nothing. I was just saying it¡¯s so beautiful.¡±


    Leira counted out the coins from her purse. ¡°Now, Lady Adeline, if I give a tip to Bethany, you won¡¯t keep it for yourself, will you?¡± She chortled obnoxiously. ¡°Good help is priceless, after all.¡±


    Adeline opened her mouth as if to speak but settled on a nod.


    Leira placed nine hundred doubloons on the counter, and then grabbed Bethany¡¯s wrist, put a hundred piece in her palm, and closed her fingers around it.


    The girl glanced at the coin and Leira thought she might faint.


    ¡°That¡¯s far too much! Mistress!¡±


    ¡°I insist,¡± Leira said. ¡°I feel like a brand-new woman, thanks to you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re far too generous, Lady Leira,¡± Adeline said.


    ¡°See you tonight,¡± Leira said, fluttering her fingers as she strode out of the shop. Fucking hell.

 Chapter Twelve – Friends in Dark Places

    Clink, clink.


    Gwil slammed the spiked end of the pickaxe into the gash he¡¯d been working at. Again. And again. His neighbors, shadows in the haze, did the same.


    ¡°This fucking sucks,¡± he muttered. The shittiness of working in these mines was worse than anything he¡¯d ever known.


    An endless stream of gritty black phlegm crawled up his throat, so he constantly needed to spit. It felt like he¡¯d huffed a pile of glass dust. Aches rang through his bones every time the pickaxe hit the rock.


    His feet felt like frozen chunks of meat. Bits of his sweat had frosted.


    It wasn¡¯t just that the conditions were brutal, though. After all, Gwil had only been at it for a few hours. Some of the prisoners must have suffered this for years.


    No, something else plagued him. Nirva. He suffered the deficiency.


    The deprivation had deep roots. Gwil felt weak. Lesser. He had grown unaccustomed to enduring even minor discomfort.


    The pickaxe rose and fell, rose and fell. That stupid cowboy sheriff and his ropes. The Burger and his idiot son.


    Gwil would get rid of them. Whatever it took.


    A glistening speck of blue, peeking through a crack. Kaia.


    A nodule, they called it. This was the second one he¡¯d found. Gwil shifted his grip on the pickaxe so that he could chisel more precisely.


    The nodules were like walnuts in both size and texture¡ªlumpy and venous. But the shells were gelatinous and translucent, squishy but impenetrable.


    Suspended within the globes were a few tiny blue beads of Kaia. They looked like fish eggs.


    All this for specks of dust.


    A whip cracked beside Gwil¡¯s ear as he pried the nodule out.


    The guard snatched it away before Gwil could hand it to him.


    ¡°Quit glaring at me, you fuckin¡¯ animal,¡± the guard said, his voice muffled behind his gasmask.


    Clink, clink. A song of falling coins. The pickaxe would punch through the man¡¯s ribcage with ease.


    Not yet. Gwil had something loftier in mind.


    He turned away from the guard. Back to work. He raised his axe over his head.


    ¡°A Hallowed slave,¡± the guard said with a chuckle. ¡°That¡¯s what they call irony. Brought back to life just so you can eat dirt until you die again. Your kind don¡¯t do well here. Dirty monsters.¡±


    Gwil ignored him.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while since we had one. And I get a kick out of watchin¡¯ the blood spurt from your necks like a goddamn fountain!¡±


    The whip cracked again. Warm blood dripped down Gwil¡¯s back. The end of the whip was barbed and weighted.


    Gwil clenched his jaw, swinging the axe against the pain. He knew the Nirva wouldn¡¯t come.


    ¡°Disrespect on your first day?¡± the guard barked. ¡°You should know¡ªI got a bad temper. You ain¡¯t gonna last long.¡±


    Gwil grinned through bared teeth. No, that¡¯s you.


    The guard went away, probably to find someone who¡¯d give him a better reaction.


    Sixteen hours on, eight off, Gwil had learned. He had no idea how long it had been. It was maddening.


    So, this is the World. Strap on the yoke. Steal the fruits.


    Why do they need so much?


    Time crawled.


    Clink, clink.


    ***


    A bell tolled. Joyous relief.


    Disgusting. This worthless sliver of respite. Dangled bait.


    Gwil joined the others at the foot of the scaffolding. Sunken eyes bugging out of gaunt faces. Glowing skin. Rattling chains. The fucking buzzing, wheezing breaths filling the pit.


    He dropped his pickaxe as he clutched his hair with both hands, fingernails digging into his scalp. He wanted to scream. No more. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    A gentle hand squeezed Gwil¡¯s shoulder. He turned and saw the man who¡¯d been working next to him.


    The man held out Gwil¡¯s dropped pickaxe. With his other hand, he held a finger to his lips. Quiet.


    Gwil took his pickaxe back, gripped the handle tight. He should¡¯ve been able to crush it with his hands. He needed to get this collar off.


    He wasn¡¯t worried. Not a single drop of doubt. Leira was out there. She¡¯d come up with something clever. He just had to meet her halfway.


    Gwil inched closer to the scaffolding as the procession made their way up and out of the pit.


    As Gwil climbed, he saw the big redheaded man standing at the edge of the pit. He had a bundle of pickaxes in his arms.


    Gwil liked that guy. When he reached the top, he tapped him on the shoulder.


    The man turned, looked down at Gwil, and said, ¡°Fuck off.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Fuck off.¡±


    Gwil frowned. The redheaded guy was nice to everyone else. He¡¯d been hoping they could wreck this place together.


    ***


    Back in the Sty. One hundred people collapsed.


    Sat against the cavern wall, Gwil stared at the heap of bodies. They couldn¡¯t have been stripped of their wills. Not fully. Embers remained. The fact that they got back on their feet every day proved it.


    They just needed a chance.


    Gwil would get every single one of them out.


    It wasn¡¯t so much that he made a decision. The way he saw it, there was no other option. No matter what Leira might¡¯ve been planning, he wouldn¡¯t leaving until that was done.


    He wanted to see them free. He wanted them to ransack all those fancy stores and restaurants. He wanted to hear them laughing as they feasted. He wanted them to know that it was finally over.


    He just needed to get the collar off.


    As he sat down in his spot, Gwil watched the redhaired guy helping whoever he could, however he could.


    Gwil leaned over and tapped Diom¡¯s shoulder. The old man jolted awake, wide-eyed with fright.


    ¡°Hey, Diom. Sorry. But who is that guy?¡± he asked, pointing.


    Diom¡¯s smile transfigured his face. ¡°That¡¯s Cort. He¡¯s a gift. Compassionate. Tireless. Got here about a month ago.¡± He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. ¡°There¡¯ve been a lot like him. People like that keep us going. Until they fall apart. They can only wear the mask for so long.¡±


    Gwil stood up. ¡°Gah, keep it together, old man. I already told you that you¡¯re gonna get out soon.¡±


    He strode over to Cort, the iron ball bouncing behind him.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Gwil grabbed Cort¡¯s shoulder and spun him around. ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡±


    Cort¡¯s expression twisted with fury, and then he laughed. ¡°Touch me again and I¡¯ll kill you.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t do shit,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re a coward.¡±


    Cort grabbed him and slammed his forehead into Gwil¡¯s nose.


    Gwil shook off tears and blood. ¡°Useless. They should be free, or you should be dead, if you were worth a damn.¡±


    People scrambled out of the way as Cort bull-rushed Gwil into the wall, pinned him against it. ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± Cort hissed.


    ¡°You can help them,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Why haven¡¯t you done it?¡±


    Cort released Gwil, looked around as if questioning his sanity, then palmed his forehead. ¡°Goddamn, you are a special kind of idiot, aren¡¯t you? Keep your fucking voice down.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯ll be better off if they hear me. If you had any guts at all¡­ If you die, you die. Why haven¡¯t you tried?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know what the hell you¡¯re talking about, lunatic,¡± Cort snarled.


    ¡°I-,¡± Gwil started, but Cort jabbed his knuckles into his throat. Gwil fell to one knee, gasping.


    ¡°This is a delicate situation,¡± Cort said. ¡°Not some child¡¯s game. Their lives are at stake.¡±


    Gwil jumped to his feet and shoved Cort away. The large man seemed surprised to be sent staggering backward. Recovering, Cort charged forward, looking keen to rip Gwil in half.


    The tattoo-covered woman appeared between them with her arms spread. ¡°Stop it! You utter jackasses.¡±


    ¡°Move, Isca,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Bite me, you hopped up gremlin,¡± she said. ¡°Sit down. Let¡¯s act like adults, eh?¡±


    Gwil flopped down. Isca followed suit, and then, after a moment, Cort, grumbling and glaring.


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s talk,¡± Isca said in a condescendingly sweet voice. ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡±


    Gwil and Cort answered simultaneously.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna get everyone out of here. He needs to help me.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything. This guy is crazy.¡±


    Isca smiled. ¡°Cort, why are you giving the newcomer a hard time? I remember how much bitching and moaning you were doing.¡±


    Cort gasped and sputtered. He seemed too appalled to muster any coherence. Finally, he shook his head. ¡°Drop it, Isca. We don¡¯t want anything to do with him.¡±


    ¡°You sound like the crazy one,¡± she said. ¡°Of course we do. He¡¯s Hallowed.¡±


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil whisper-shouted. He leaned in. ¡°You guys were already planning to break out?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Isca said.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna have to kill him,¡± Cort said under his breath.


    ¡°What¡¯s the hold up?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s only been a month,¡± Cort said with a sneer.


    ¡°A month?¡± Gwil blew a raspberry. ¡°How many people died while you¡¯ve been sitting on your ass?¡±


    Cort punched him in the face. Isca thumped them both on the backs of their heads.


    ¡°Behave! What¡¯s your problem, Cort? This is a blessing. He wants to help us. Look at him. Look how eager he is even after you beat him up.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, running around shouting, real helpful,¡± Cort mumbled.


    Gwil grimaced. ¡°Well, I am sorry about that. I wasn¡¯t thinking. But you wouldn¡¯t talk to me.¡±


    ¡°No shit I wouldn¡¯t,¡± Cort said. ¡°Every guard¡¯s got their eyes on you cause of that collar you¡¯re wearing.¡±


    ¡°Pssht,¡± Isca said. ¡°No one¡¯s listening, anyway. Long as we¡¯re locked up, the guards don¡¯t give a flying fuck.¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow then,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°See?¡± Cort yelled.


    Isca went wide-eyed. ¡°No! No. We can¡¯t do that.¡± She laughed. ¡°We don¡¯t even know your name. And we¡¯ve been working on a plan, but there¡¯s still a lot to figure out.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m Gwil,¡± he said.


    ¡°There¡¯s everything to figure out,¡± Cort said with a grunt. ¡°If we fuck up, it¡¯s only gonna make things worse for everyone,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We just won¡¯t fuck up. I¡¯m gonna do it tomorrow, no matter what.¡±


    Isca looked at Cort, horrified.


    The redheaded man, however, looked triumphant. ¡°Told you I¡¯d have to kill him.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯ll be easy,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I have a friend on the outside. She¡¯s coming for me. She¡¯s smart and magical. And if I get this collar off, I¡¯ll stomp through these guards like they¡¯re bugs.¡±


    Isca grinned wide. ¡°See?¡± she said back at Cort.


    Cort started massaging his temples. ¡°What¡¯s your Invoke?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Your sorcery, your wish. You¡¯re a Hallow. What can you do?¡±


    Erm. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about that,¡± Gwil said.


    Cort groaned. ¡°Goddammit. I should already be long gone.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been saying,¡± Gwil said.


    Isca laughed. ¡°Cort isn¡¯t some hero. He¡¯s just a thief with a heart too big for his own good.¡±


    ¡°You guys are thieves? Cool!¡±


    ¡°Not me,¡± Isca said. ¡°I¡¯m nothing. I¡¯ve been here for two years. Cort popped in for a job, but he got snagged up by that damned little thing called morality. We¡¯ve been working on a way to get everyone out.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a thief,¡± Cort said, smacking the ground. ¡°I¡¯m a mercenary. And yeah, I got imprisoned on purpose. Some Vermin commander hired me to steal a bunch of Kaia.¡±


    The gate clanged open.


    ¡°Dinner time,¡± Isca said.

 Chapter Thirteen – Flowers and Stone

    The lumpy stew wasn¡¯t half bad. Gwil had gone to the big pot with the others and helped pass it out. Then they¡¯d returned to their corner of the cavern and sat down to eat.


    ¡°You look a damn sight better than yesterday,¡± Isca said.


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°I think I was just hungry. Hey, how come you guys aren¡¯t blue?¡±


    ¡°Takes time,¡± Cort said. He held out his arm. ¡°You can see here; my veins are starting to glow a bit.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem like it¡¯s gonna happen to me,¡± Isca said. ¡°I¡¯ve been worse places than here.¡±


    ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡± Gwil asked.


    Isca opened her mouth, but Cort cut in.


    ¡°We have no plan. Just half-baked shit, which is why doing this tomorrow is insane. When I was just getting myself out¡­ But I can¡¯t just¡­ It¡¯s just so¡­ Argh!¡± He slammed his empty soup cup at the ground, and then it bounced up and hit him in the face.


    Gwil laughed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter then. It¡¯s not like you¡¯re gonna come up with something all of a sudden. And my friend will be here. She could probably do it all on her own.¡±


    ¡°Er, who is this person exactly?¡± Isca said. ¡°What are they gonna do?¡±


    ¡°I dunno,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But her name¡¯s Leira. She¡¯s the smartest person I¡¯ve ever met. And I trust her no matter what.¡±


    Isca gave Cort a playful shove. ¡°Half-baked shit is better than nothing.¡± She looked back at Gwil. ¡°We think the best time is right before shift-end. The guards get antsy. We all still have our pickaxes. And the best part is the other shift will be on their way in. We can get them. And just like that, we¡¯ve got two hundred people. Damn near an army.¡±


    She shoved Cort again.


    ¡°Not everyone¡¯s in fighting shape,¡± he mumbled. ¡°Right. We don¡¯t know how many guards work in the prison. Our guess is somewhere between fifty and a hundred.¡±


    ¡°Ha! That¡¯s nothing,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Cort said. ¡°Don¡¯t laugh when you know jack shit. That could be a hundred armed and trained fighters. We¡¯ll be lucky if half of the prisoners can do anything more than carry themselves. And we gotta protect the rest.¡±


    ¡°They will fight,¡± Isca said. ¡°You¡¯re a fool if you don¡¯t think they¡¯ll be rabid for just a sliver of a chance.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a chance,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We¡¯re gonna do it for sure.¡±


    Cort shook his head. ¡°If we get out of the mines and meet up with the other shift, then that¡¯s only the beginning. We¡¯ll be able to get control of things inside the prison. But getting out is a whole ¡®nother story.¡±


    Gwil stayed quiet.


    ¡°We can¡¯t climb up the mountains. There¡¯s too many of us. It¡¯s too steep. And the Podexians would shred us if we tried. Going through the wall is the only way.¡±


    ¡°The wall it is,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°And we¡¯ve got nothing for it,¡± Cort said, scowling.


    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s a gate,¡± Gwil said. ¡°That¡¯s how they brought me in. We can just walk through.¡±


    Isca laughed while Cort grabbed a fistful of Gwil¡¯s shirt and yanked him forward. ¡°I know about the fucking gate. Everyone knows about the gate. They don¡¯t just leave it open!¡±


    ¡°Jaqlov has a lot more men outside the prison,¡± Isca said. ¡°The ones stuck in here are the ones he doesn¡¯t care about. They¡¯re just a higher class of slave, really. And there¡¯s the sheriff. He¡¯s Hallowed and a real mean bastard.¡±


    ¡°I met him,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I can beat him. Oh, but what about my collar? I probably can¡¯t beat him if I have it on.¡±


    ¡°Probably?¡± Cort scoffed. He crawled over and pushed Gwil¡¯s head to the side so he could look at the collar. ¡°Heh. Alright. I can break it for you.¡±


    ¡°Easy. All set then.¡±


    Isca nodded. ¡°We can do this. Jaqlov is too arrogant to see that his kingdom is fragile. He doesn¡¯t think we can get up, because he¡¯s had his boot on our fucking necks for so long. If we can get out of the prison, I¡¯m gonna-¡±


    ¡°No, Isca,¡± Cort barked. ¡°Enough of that. It¡¯s psychotic.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I need to destroy this place,¡± Isca said. ¡°It¡¯s not a choice.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I thought that¡¯s-¡±


    ¡°No. I mean I¡¯m gonna completely annihilate it. There will be nothing left.¡±


    Cort buried his face in his hands and groaned.


    ¡°Woah, how?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°In its unrefined state, Kaia is highly volatile,¡± Isca said. ¡°Explosive. That¡¯s why we have to mine it with hand tools. If I set something off in one of the veins, it¡¯ll cause a chain reaction. I will turn this mountain into dust.¡±


    ¡°Cool!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not cool,¡± Cort said. ¡°It¡¯s lunacy. The explosion would be massive. We¡¯d need to get past the wall, and then get so far clear that we might as well just run the fuck away. On top of that, we gotta waste time rigging up a detonator. It¡¯s stupid.¡±


    ¡°I told you, Cort,¡± Isca said softly. ¡°I have to do this.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do anything.¡± Cort stood and waved her off. ¡°Risking lives for some symbolic garbage,¡± he muttered as he stalked off.


    Isca laughed. ¡°He¡¯s a good guy underneath.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Gwil said. ¡°What¡¯s with all the writing on your body?¡±


    The elegant lettering looked like it was moving. Gwil found it entrancing.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Isca said. ¡°Just a bunch of garbage.¡±


    ¡°At least it looks good,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re like a walking book.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Brow furrowed, Isca stared at Gwil. Her gaze disarmed him; her irises were nearly as dark as her pupils. ¡°How did you get put in here?¡±


    Gwil leaned back on his hands. ¡°I got run over by a skimmer, and then I kind of let them capture me, ¡®cause I thought they¡¯d bring me to see the Burger, and then I was gonna kill him or something. Cause he probably wasn¡¯t gonna just release the slaves if I told him to, right? But the sheriff got me good. I didn¡¯t know about the ropes. And they brought me here.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not surprised that Cort finds you difficult,¡± Isca said after a moment. ¡°But it¡¯s good you¡¯re confident. We need that, I think.¡±


    ¡°So, what happens after?¡±


    ¡°After I destroy the mountain?¡± Isca said.


    Gwil nodded.


    She tugged at her cheek. ¡°It¡¯s hard to see further than the wall. But I expect Jaqlov and his scumsuckers will scatter like the cockroaches they are. And you all¡ªwe will need to get everyone the hell away from here. I don¡¯t¡­ know where.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t they just live in the town? It¡¯s really nice.¡±


    Isca closed her eyes, ran her fingers through her matted hair. ¡°No. This land is cursed, but that doesn¡¯t even matter. The Leviathan will come to see what happened to the Kaia. We need to make sure we¡¯re far away before that happens.¡±


    Gwil nodded. ¡°This is the first place I¡¯ve ever been, but the World seems pretty shitty.¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°I¡¯m really disappointed.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s what we wrought,¡± Isca said. ¡°Only ourselves to blame. Cowards might put it on our ancestors as if we¡¯re any better.¡± She laughed. ¡°We are diseased, Gwil. The whole World is diseased. Even the sky is sick. No rainbows for us. The Leviathan is only capitalizing on the vulnerability.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gwil said. ¡°But why?¡±


    ¡°Good question.¡± She laid down on her back, folded her arms under her head, closed her eyes. Her tattoos blurred as she moved. ¡°Power isn¡¯t power without abuse. And wealth isn¡¯t wealth without deprivation.¡±


    ***


    A just-whiffed-shit scowl was plastered across Leira¡¯s face, and it wasn¡¯t coming off anytime soon. She rode in a cable car, high above the Podexian town, on the way to Jaqlov¡¯s manor, which stood within the massive hollow that had been carved into the canyon wall.


    Time for this Silver Gala nonsense.


    She was stuck riding with an absolutely wretched family of four. Bunch of pink-faced, pig-nosed shit-jugglers. The two kids were whining, the father droned on about all the illustrious brown-nosing he planned to do at the party, and the mother fussed with anything she could get her grubby hands on.


    Shut up, shut up, shut up, you dumb, ugly bastards!


    Leira hawked up a loogie and spat out the window. That shut them up right quick. You could¡¯ve heard a pin drop.


    She kept her eyes trained out the window, unable to bear the sight of her co-passengers for another second. It was a clear night, and the moonlight shone nearly pure white. Tonight, the Martyr¡¯s Wound was a barren scar rather than a weeping gash.


    The cable car ran alongside and above the wall. Leira could see the tunnel that had been excavated at the end of the canyon.


    Gwil was there. It didn¡¯t look terribly well-fortified. The wall was big, but she¡¯d just find a way through the gate.


    It didn¡¯t seem like Podexia had much military strength. None of the guards she¡¯d seen carried guns. And they didn¡¯t appear to be very well-trained. Most of them just lazed about. There was that Hallow, Jackson, with the Nirva ropes and the ridiculous motorcycle who had beaten Gwil with ease, but they¡¯d deal with him if they had to. Somehow.


    Leira had calmed down since finding out that Podexia was a Kaia mine. It must have been a small operation, just a few paltry veins. Even microscopic motes of Kaia were precious, but if they had anything substantial here, the Leviathan would¡¯ve set up a military base and a refinery.


    She felt confident. The Leviathan wouldn¡¯t show up. Why would they? And if they did, what would it matter? They¡¯d just send some grunts. A Monarch wouldn¡¯t come for a routine check. Stop being stupid, she told herself. Stop thinking about that. It¡¯s not her. It¡¯s not her.


    And if it is Anesidyra? I¡¯d rather die.


    Leira set her jaw. See you tomorrow, Gwil.


    She looked back toward the estate. The grounds were beautiful, lush and glistening. A labyrinth of flowery shrubs adorned the yard, with blossoms so vibrant their colors seemed to bleed out of their petals.


    One of the great ironies of her life was that Leira loved flowers. Regular, mundane flowers. If she could just do nothing but tend a quiet garden for the rest of her days, well, that¡¯d be a dream come true.


    Anyone with eyes could see that flowers were special things, like little stars scattered across the earth. The resolve to stare up at the bleak sky and be nothing but beautiful¡­


    The lonely, impossible ones really did it for her. The ones so desperate to grow that they punched through solid stone, even though their soil was poisonous. Like the last soldier standing against the host that had slayed his comrades.


    It was all such a shame. Now she would have to set fire to this garden. She would burn the beautiful lie that masked the lord¡¯s malevolence.


    Behind the sprawling gardens, the manor loomed. It was a bizarre-looking building. One half of the structure, the right side from her perspective, was nothing special. Grand and imposing, four stories tall, made of immaculate white marble, sharp-featured architecture¡ªa typical abode for a wealthy baron.


    But the other half was just an enormous chunk of rough, natural marble. Like a small mountain. Dirty and lumpy, marred by rust streaks and covered with salt deposits. Completely untouched. The masterpiece of an impossibly gifted sculptor, abandoned halfway through.


    The cable car began to descend. A swarm of arriving partygoers streamed from the cable car¡¯s terminal, through the gardens, to the foot of the manor, where the festivities were in full swing. An array of white tents filled the space, along with performers and multiple elevated stages.


    Leira spotted one of those huge walking rock-beings. A Talus. She didn¡¯t know if it was the same one, but one of them had started all their problems. If Gwil hadn¡¯t run out to look at it, he wouldn¡¯t have gotten run over by Jaqlov¡¯s idiot-spawn.


    Leira stood up and moved to the door as the cable car neared the end of the line. She ignored the four pairs of eyes drilling into her back. She wished she could give each of them a nice slap across the face, but she needed to behave herself.


    ¡°Ahem,¡± the woman said. ¡°It would be proper to allow my husband to disembark first. He is a close friend of Burgermeister Jaqlov.¡±


    Leira looked over her shoulder as the man made to stand. She barred his way with her arm.


    ¡°Eat shit,¡± she said.


    The doors opened and Leira skipped off, blowing past the tuxedoed attendants who greeted the guests. No one stopped her, so, after giving the depot a quick scan, she made a split-second decision to ditch Adeline. Rather not spend time with that insufferable woman, anyway.


    She breathed deep the sweet scent of the gardens as she hurried through the labyrinth, shoving aside anyone who strolled across her path. Many of the guests wore cumbersome robes and gowns, along with masks and other gaudy ornaments.


    Emerging onto the main grounds, she stopped in her tracks and gaped at the sheer revelry. A full orchestra played dramatic music. Acrobats swung from tree branches and near-invisible lines that had been raised overhead. Simple robots¡ªone-wheeled with trays atop their heads, like little mobile tables¡ªzoomed through the crowd carrying drinks and hors d''oeuvres.


    Jaqlov knew how to throw a party, it seemed. Leira grabbed two glasses of champagne from a robot and downed one of them. I gotta make sure Gwil gets to see one of these things.


    It was a chilly night, but the Kaia lamps scattered throughout the grounds had heaters built in.


    There was a group to her right, playing some game where they tossed heavy balls around. A bigger, louder, drunker group stood up ahead. Their bodies blocked her view, so she went to see what all the fuss was about.


    Mostly men gathered there, and many of them waved jangling sacks of doubloons over their heads. A flock of frazzled-looking attendants moved among them, carrying clipboards and wearing vests lined with stacks of coins.


    Leira heard a horrible screeching sound. Half of the crowd let out a crazed roar; the others groaned. She was taller than most of them, so when she reached the edge, she could see over their heads.


    A dead animal lay on the ground within a caged enclosure with a sand-covered floor. Blood spouted from its neck.


    A winged creature prowled the arena. Its maned head was feline, but its six legs were birdlike. Blood coated its feathered body.


    She could not tell what the head of the dead animal looked like, because it had been crushed into pulp, but it had a reptilian body.


    Poor, spliced things. The Leviathan engineered armies of genetically spliced beasts to specialize in various sorts of transportation and labor. But these were just amateurish underground creations. They¡¯d live short, painful, drug-fueled lives.


    Leira inched closer to the belligerent idiot beside her. He noticed her staring at him just as the petals of the eyeflower began to writhe. A cloud of bile-yellow spores puffed out.


    As she walked away, that man and the two beside him began projectile vomiting. There¡¯s something to wail about, assholes.


    She plunged deeper into the frivolity¡ªartists painting portraits, a gaggle of scantily clad dancers, a swimming pool.


    ¡°Lady Leira!¡± called a nasally voice.


    Leira curtsied as she turned. ¡°Lady Adeline! How splendid!¡±

 Chapter Fourteen – Champagne, Champagne

    ¡°Oh, thank goodness!¡± Leira said, cupping her face with her hands. ¡°I looked all over for you. I thought perhaps you¡¯d forgotten me.¡±


    ¡°Heavens, no,¡± Adeline said. ¡°We must¡¯ve just missed each other. The dress looks even more stunning in the moonlight, darling.¡±


    ¡°My gratitude for its maker knows no bounds,¡± Leira said with a twirl.


    ¡°Let us walk,¡± Adeline said, offering an arm, which Leira took. They set out along the glittering marble path.


    ¡°So, you said you¡¯ve traveled all around the World?¡± Adeline said. ¡°How fascinating. Tell me, how does our humble Chateau Podexia compare?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s exquisite,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯ve really enjoyed my time here. This estate is a marvel. I adore the gardens and the wonderful performers. The guests are, of course, of the highest class.¡±


    ¡°Good, good,¡± Adeline said. ¡°I¡¯m certain that Burgermeister Jaqlov and Lady Ophelia would be flattered by the praise of someone so well-traveled.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I simply must meet with him to offer my thanks and compliments,¡± Leira said. Maybe I should just kill him and see what happens? ¡°Might you introduce me?¡±


    Something flickered across Adeline¡¯s otherwise placid expression. ¡°I¡¯m not- Lord Jaqlov is quite busy tonight, I¡¯m sure. I¡¯d rather not bother him with something small.¡±


    The petals of the eyeflower swayed. ¡°He¡¯d be thrilled to see you, Adeline,¡± Leira said. She tightened her grip on the woman¡¯s arm and halted in place. She whispered in the woman¡¯s ear, ¡°I really must insist.¡±


    Little red spores sprinkled across Adeline¡¯s face like freckles.


    ¡°Certainly, darling. Ophelia and I were old friends,¡± Adeline said, slurring her words.


    ¡°Good. Lead the way,¡± Leira said.


    The older woman began licking her lips and exercising her jaw. ¡°I¡¯m so thirsty. It feels like I¡¯ve licked sand.¡± She covered her mouth. ¡°How embarrassing.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t have any booze,¡± Leira said. ¡°Drink juice or something.¡±


    Adeline had been reaching for a wine-bearing waiter-robot. She looked dismayed but heeded Leira¡¯s words.


    Up ahead, some children played badminton. Leira steered the woman toward the play area, where another robot carried glasses of juice.


    The moment she spotted the beverages, Adeline pulled away from Leira and sprinted to the robot.


    She was on her third glass by the time Leira reached her. The lady was lucky she hadn¡¯t worn white, because she¡¯d spilled grape juice all down her front.


    ¡°Better?¡± Leira asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Adeline said, giggling.


    ¡°Bring me to Jaqlov,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Adeline said. They returned to the path which led to the manor¡¯s front door. ¡°Stondemaier is a very private man these days. To tell the truth, I¡¯ve actually not seen him in, oh, three years. Perhaps the flower in your eye is exquisite enough that we might be admitted.¡±


    ¡°What about his son?¡± Leira asked.


    ¡°Ohohoho,¡± Adeline said, swaying her hips as she walked. ¡°Lady Leira, do you intend to try your luck at becoming the, hehe, heiress of Chateau Podexia? It is the Silver Gala, after all.¡±


    ¡°Aye, something like that.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re beautiful enough,¡± Adeline said. She leaned in to whisper. ¡°If I can be honest, though, you¡¯re a bit crass.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°And if I can be more honest,¡± she continued, still whispering, ¡°Ansoir is not exactly what I¡¯d call a catch. Perhaps, if you¡¯ve a high tolerance for irritation, the rewards might be worth it. But I recommend searching for true love, as I¡¯ve found with my sweetheart. Where is that silly man?¡± She stumbled as she looked around.


    The ground shook. They¡¯d come to the fountain where stood the giant Talus. It was the same one. Leira recognized the litter atop its shoulders. The thing danced around the fountain, giving some sort of performance.


    The curtains of the litter were thrown open.


    That little shit. Ansoir Jaqlov appeared, yelling as he sprayed a bottle of champagne over the onlookers.


    ¡°Speak of the devil,¡± Adeline said, clapping her stupid hands.


    ¡°You gave me an idea,¡± Leira said. ¡°Go away, Adeline. I don¡¯t need you anymore.¡±


    Leaving the woman dumbstruck, Leira approached the gaggle that surrounded the Talus. Yeah, this¡¯ll work. She suspected she could enthrall this Ansoir idiot without her spores.


    Leira pushed her way through the crowd and went right up to the Talus. Her head was level with its hip. She began to climb the rungs that went up the Talus¡¯s body. Ansoir, smug as could be, reached down to pull Leira up into the litter.


    She straightened and gave him her most alluring smile. ¡°It¡¯s a sin to waste such excellent champagne, my lord.¡±


    ¡°How presumptuous you are!¡± he said, laughing as he looked her up and down.


    Ansoir wore a completely silver tuxedo. It looked like he was wrapped up in tinfoil. Draped over his huge blond afro was an ornate veil made of silver beads and gemstones.


    Leira towered over his actual head¡ªand had to stoop to fit inside the litter¡ªbut the top of the afro matched her height. She inched closer and whispered in Ansoir¡¯s ear, ¡°I love your hair ornaments.¡±


    He was stinking drunk. His rosy cheeks turned beet red. Leira grabbed his hand and raised it above their heads. Ansoir regained himself and yelled incoherently while pumping their joined fists.


    Ansoir grabbed another bottle of champagne from the bucket beside his chair and tossed it into the crowd below.


    No one caught it, of course¡ªit was a heavy, dangerous object, so they got out of the way. The bottle shattered with a spray of gold.


    Ansoir turned to Leira and set his jaw, so it stuck out. ¡°I waste nothing, woman. I have everything.¡± He grabbed another bottle and threw that one, too.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Ugh. Leira rubbed the corner of her eye with her knuckle. ¡°That¡¯s so luxurious, my lord. My name is Lady Leira, and it¡¯s my pleasure to meet you.¡±


    He held out his hand for Leira to kiss. She did, and then she said, ¡°I hoped we might take a ride together on this magnificent walking rock.¡±


    Ansoir¡¯s eyes bugged out. ¡°Of course. That can be arranged. This is my personal Talus. His name is Brock. Impressive, eh?¡±


    Leira tittered in the manner of Adeline and wished she could slap herself. ¡°Is there any champagne left? Shall we enjoy a glass while you treat me to a tour of the estate?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s always champagne,¡± Ansoir slurred. He flopped down in his chair and popped the cork on another bottle, spilling the foamy liquid all over his lap.


    Leira took the seat beside him, thankful that an armrest divided the two chairs. If this encounter ended without her gouging Ansoir¡¯s eyes out with her thumbs, she¡¯d consider it a great success.


    ¡°Get moving, Brock, you goddamn oaf!¡± Ansoir screeched. ¡°Weren¡¯t you listening? Bring us around the manor.¡± He turned to Leira and sighed. ¡°The problem with Taluses is that you cannot whip them.¡±


    Brock moved, the boulders spinning and clattering. The air around the Talus had a slight chill because of the Kaia burning in its engine.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen such a thing,¡± Leira said, leaning out to better examine the Talus¡¯s mechanisms.


    ¡°My father¡¯s work,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°He whispers to rocks or some such nonsense.¡±


    Leira choked on her champagne. ¡°Is Lord Stondemaier a Hallow?¡±


    ¡°Myes, myes,¡± Ansoir droned. ¡°His Invoke is silly and useless, I always say.¡± He chortled. ¡°There are Hallows who fly and spit fire, and he speaks to rocks so that he can carve them better. Laughable.¡±


    Shit. ¡°Hm. Do you guys have an army of these Taluses?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just it!¡± Ansoir said, jumping to his feet and nearly toppling out of the litter. ¡°He won¡¯t make them fight. We could conquer the entire Mikaran continent, but he insists stone is patif¨C pacifit¨C that it doesn¡¯t want to fight! My father is soft and weak.¡± He stuck his finger in Leira¡¯s face. ¡°His power doesn¡¯t even bring the stone to life. It only awakens a sentience. That¡¯s why the Taluses and the statues need Kaia engines¡ªthey can¡¯t move on their own. My father¡¯s Invoke is what allows them to understand commands, but he only grants them minds with which they can do nothing. Kaia is the true power!¡±


    Leira swatted his hand out of her face. ¡°Can they talk?¡±


    Ansoir laughed and fell back into his seat. ¡°No, only to him. But it¡¯s funny you ask. When I was a child, I always begged my father to teach me to speak to them. I wanted to be fr- Well, they¡¯re nothing more than durable slaves.¡± He stomped his foot on the floor of the litter, which was the top of Brock¡¯s head. ¡°Hurry, you worthless ball of compressed sand. You¡¯re embarrassing yourself in front of this gorgeous woman. I¡¯ll have you ground down.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Leira said. ¡°This is lovely.¡± She fluttered her one eye over the rim of her champagne glass.


    They moved along the front of the manor, past the half of the building that was just a towering chunk of raw marble.


    ¡°No, woman. You must know better than that. Slaves can never be given a drop of leniency.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Leira said. ¡°Speaking of slaves, that reminds me. This is a trifle embarrassing. But one of mine was arrested at the casino. I gleaned he was sent to the Kaia mines?¡±


    ¡°Of course he was,¡± Ansoir said, waving an easy hand. ¡°Rest assured, he¡¯ll find nothing but pain and death.¡±


    ¡°I am glad,¡± Leira said. ¡°But I¡¯m bitter that I did not get to punish him with my own hand, nor see it with my own eye. Might we be able to visit the mines so I can look upon the worthless wretch¡¯s agony?¡± She tittered. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I even ask like that; they are your mines after all.¡±


    ¡°Yes, anything is possible at my behest,¡± Ansoir said.


    ¡°Great, let¡¯s go now.¡±


    Ansoir glanced at her, lip curled in a sneer. ¡°Tomorrow, perhaps, if I feel like it. There¡¯s a gala on tonight, if you haven¡¯t noticed. I won¡¯t waste my evening looking at a pile of stinking slaves.¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow would be perfect,¡± Leira said. ¡°Let¡¯s call it a date.¡±


    ¡°Ohoho, pretum- presumptuous indeed.¡±


    Nice. This had already proven worthwhile. Worst case, she¡¯d booked herself entry to the mines. But she wanted more. Ansoir was so stupid that it¡¯d be wasteful not to exploit him further.


    The Talus rounded a corner to reveal the back of the estate. The lawn gave way to a massive, tiered quarry which had been excavated downward through the canyon wall.


    But that was hardly the impressive part. Leira ¡®oohed¡¯ and ¡®aahed¡¯ and she wasn¡¯t faking it.


    The structure resembled an amphitheater. Arranged throughout were dozens of incredible statues depicting animals, heroic people, monsters, ancient religious idolatry. There was a giraffe, and a three-headed elephant, a golden man with a beard of serpents, a skeleton.


    Like a painting made real.


    ¡°My father¡¯s pride and joy,¡± Ansoir mumbled. ¡°An utter waste of time.¡± He refilled their glasses of champagne.


    Brock continued on. They passed by a big metal warehouse that stood off to the side.


    ¡°What¡¯s in there?¡± Leira asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s my father¡¯s workshop. Abandoned, of course. He doesn¡¯t even work on his sculptures anymore, further proof that it was all a waste of time. Even the manor is half-finished, for god¡¯s sake.¡±


    Leira gasped. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t-¡± Ansoir chewed on the inside of his cheek. ¡°He spends all his time with¡­ my mother. She¡¯s sick. The only work that gets done anymore is in the Kaia mines. Which is the most important thing, yes, but my father let¡¯s Sheriff Jackson oversee the whole operation.¡±


    ¡°Mm,¡± Leira said as she leaned out to get a better look at the inside of the amphitheater. ¡°It¡¯s amazing.¡±


    ¡°Halt, Brock!¡± Ansoir shouted. ¡°Turn around.¡±


    ¡°What? Can¡¯t we go closer?¡± Leira said.


    ¡°No,¡± Ansoir said. He stomped on Brock¡¯s head. ¡°I¡¯m done with this. Bring us back to the party.¡±


    Brock rotated in place and went back toward the front of the manor.


    Uh-oh. Leira leaned closer to Ansoir and said, ¡°They are just rocks, after all. Rather drab, I¡¯d say.¡± She twirled a lock of hair around her finger.


    ¡°Nothing but deranged idiocy,¡± Ansoir spat. He clenched his jaw, but it still quivered.


    How interesting.


    Leira tittered and Ansoir whipped his head around at her laughter, bejeweled afro bouncing, face warped in fury.


    ¡°I underestimated you, my lord,¡± she said. ¡°I thought I pursued the hand of a charming playboy¡ªthat¡¯s your reputation around town. But it¡¯s plain to see that the future of Chateau Podexia rests squarely upon your shoulders. It must be such a burden.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Yes. Everything will be mine.¡±


    ¡°And all this Kaia,¡± Leira said on a heavy breath. ¡°You must be one of the most powerful men in the World.¡± That was far as hell from true. This bumfuck operation was just a leaky pipe. But people were most vulnerable in their delusions.


    ¡°Kaia is power,¡± Ansoir said, making his voice gravelly.


    Leira glanced away so that she could roll her eyes. She almost felt bad for this asshole. He never had a chance at being anything besides a raging piece of shit.


    But that was ideal for her purpose here. ¡°If your father is derelict, why hasn¡¯t he put you in charge? He could enjoy retirement while Podexia thrives under your control, my lord.¡±


    ¡°I ask myself that constantly,¡± Ansoir slurred.


    ¡°It must be frustrating,¡± she said softly, ¡°knowing you¡¯d be such a strong leader.¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is,¡± Ansoir growled.


    ¡°More champagne?¡± Leira asked. Drunk men are such idiots.


    ¡°More champagne!¡± Ansoir uncorked a new bottle and attempted to refill their glasses, but spilled half of it on their shoes. He was so shitfaced that Leira was impressed he hadn¡¯t passed out.


    Perfect. All that liquid courage.


    The little lord knocked the two glasses over with his arm and passed Leira an entire bottle.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind if I do,¡± she said. She took a few swigs. It was damn fine champagne. Her flower could cleanse the alcohol from her body if she needed to be sober, so she could drink as much as she wanted.


    Ansoir popped a bottle for himself and guzzled half of it.


    ¡°Have you asked him about it?¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Asked what?¡± Ansoir said, wiping his mouth.


    ¡°Asked your father about making you Burgermeister.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course. Well, no, not ezact¨C exactly. But you know, perhaps I should. Perhaps I will! He¡¯s an old man. He should enjoy his remaining days. And Jackson, that fucking bastard.¡± His head bobbled with the force of his rambling. ¡°I¡¯ll have him put to death when I¡¯m Burgermeister. Fucking dirty, upstart, pauper thinks he can rule just because he¡¯s a Hallow.


    ¡°And you know what? Frankly, I¡¯m disgusted that my father has not already made me Burgermeister himself. I should be Burgermeister, and everyone knows it!¡±


    ¡°I wonder if he thinks you¡¯re immature,¡± Leira said. ¡°Perhaps if you showed him you¡¯re ready to settle down, he¡¯d see you for the lord you are. I should come with you. You can tell him I¡¯m your bride-to-be.¡±


    ¡°Ladyyyy Leira,¡± Ansoir said, swaying as he leaned closer to her. ¡°You¡¯re smart for a woman. That is a brilliant idea.¡±


    Only through tremendous strength of will did Leira refrain from wrinkling her nose at his rancid breath.


    ¡°It¡¯s only appropriate that I meet your father after all, since I do intend to woo his heir.¡±


    ¡°Brock! Take us to my father¡¯s throne room!¡±


    So easy.


    The Talus changed direction again and began rolling toward a garage-style entrance in the unfinished half of the manor.


    ***


    Clink, clink¡­

 Chapter Fifteen – Stone Cold Love

    The interior of the unfinished manor surprised her, but it probably shouldn¡¯t have. The halls were indistinguishable from the tunnels of a cave. An opulent cave, with walls of white marble, but a cave nevertheless.


    There was some d¨¦cor¡ªtapestries and Kaia sconces. But it had the damp, musty air of a cave, and Leira spotted a rat wriggling through a crack in the stone.


    The cavernous tunnels were large enough that Brock could comfortably roll through.


    Ansoir¡¯s face was ghostly pale, and his sweat splotched his makeup and caused his afro to sag in some places. He looked downright deranged.


    Leira rested her chin in her hand, ready to stifle any laughter. This would be a wonderful disaster.


    The fledgling lord licked his lips, then laughed like a hyena. ¡°This is my father¡¯s private wing, you see. I assure you, the rest of the manor is normal, with wood flooring and proper walls and such, as is befitting of my station.¡±


    Leira grinned. ¡°You worry too much, darling. Just be confident, my lord. What your father needs to see is some bravado.¡±


    Ansoir¡¯s nostrils flared and through bared teeth he said, ¡°No one is as bravadocious as me.¡± He clutched his chest while hyperventilating. The cords in his neck went taut, causing his pudgy jowls to jiggle.


    ¡°Uh, are you alright?¡±


    ¡°Of course I am,¡± he snapped. ¡°I will be Burgermeister. I¡¯m not afraid at all. How dare you even ask me that?¡±


    Leira raised her eyebrows, said nothing.


    Another bark of nervous laughter. Ansoir undid his bowtie and unbuttoned his collar. ¡°Forgive me, Lady Leira. Yesterday, my prized 917 Red Tiger was damaged after some worthless slave walked in front of me while I was driving home. It has me all out of sorts. The man just wandered into the middle of the road while the alarm was going off!¡±


    Leira nodded. ¡°That¡¯s completely understandable. What a clumsy moron.¡±


    Ansoir slumped in his chair, leaning toward her. ¡°Might I inspect the flower in your eye?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t,¡± Leira said. ¡°It¡¯s very poisonous.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen my share of exotic splices, but something about yours is quite¡­ ravishing. I wish we had better surgeons here. I¡¯ve long considered getting an alligator tail. Where did you have yours done?¡±


    ¡°Veirga,¡± Leira said, smiling. ¡°A World-renowned botanical cosmetologist.¡± She tittered. ¡°A friend of mine actually got cantaloupes implanted¡­¡±


    ***


    Clink, clink¡­


    ***


    They stood¡ªor rather Brock stood¡ªbefore a formidable vault-style door. It opened via the huge metal plate rolling into a recess. The door was ajar, open about a third of the way.


    Soft music played inside the throne room, and there were chattering voices, along with sharp claps of stone against stone.


    Ansoir was muttering to himself. Sweat dripped from his afro. They¡¯d been sitting here for ten minutes now.


    Leira cleared her throat.


    Ansoir looked at her like a terrified mouse, his jaw quivering.


    ¡°I see there¡¯s some whiskey there,¡± Leira said. ¡°That¡¯ll help.¡±


    ¡°Brilliant!¡± Ansoir said. He extracted the bottle from the ice bucket and took four healthy swallows. ¡°Alright! Let¡¯s go!¡±


    Leira grimaced as Ansoir leapt out of the litter. It wasn¡¯t terribly high up, but he had time to flail his arms before landing hard and crumpling.


    To the little lord¡¯s credit, he bounced right up. ¡°Brock, you fucking idiot! Why didn¡¯t you lower yourself?¡±


    The Talus raised his boulder-arms in a big shrug. Ansoir did not seem aware enough to construe the gesture as disrespectful.


    As Leira made to climb down, Brock raised his arm in a way that she could use it as a step, and then lowered her down to the ground.


    ¡°Thank you, Brock.¡±


    ¡°Take my arm,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°It¡¯s time I become Burgermeister.¡±


    Leira clung to his arm, giddy with anticipation. She set her face to look as snide as she could.


    Ansoir stumbled over the threshold but, unperturbed, pressed ahead.


    ¡°Father!¡± he barked.


    Leira took in the throne room; it was a stark contrast from the bare marble walls outside.


    The entire high-ceilinged cavern glittered like the night sky. Leira thought it must be obsidian, sprinkled with gemstones. Red tapestries hung from the walls, emblazoned with the Podexian crest¡ªa chain coiled around a pickaxe.


    She tried but failed not to gawk. There were no humans inside, save for the host of guards. She spotted the sheriff among that group, face obscured by the wide brim of his hat. His motorcycle stood beside him.


    They sat at a table off to the side, drinking and playing cards. But the game was on hold as they all stared at Ansoir. Based on their eager expressions, Leira suspected they felt much the same as her.


    Everyone¡ªor thing?¡ªelse in the cavern was a moving statue. Dozens of Taluses. A few had utilitarian designs, like Brock. But most were humanoid¡ªso realistic¡ªjust as incredible as the ones displayed in the amphitheater. Embedded in the chest of each was a blazing heart of Kaia. The statues all danced with each other in some sort of complicated routine.


    In the center of the room was a dais of solid gold with stairs leading up to it. Sat on the throne was an amorphous pile of rubble.


    But then Leira discerned the slumped features, the two cloudy eyes peering out of the mound-shaped head, and the slit mouth below.


    Stondemaier? Fucking hell.


    He was malformed like molten rock, but there was definitely a person under there. Flakes of stone covered his drooping body, like some sort of terrible petrification disease. He had a tattered toga wrapped around his body.


    In the smaller seat beside the throne sat a statue of a woman, so perfectly sculpted that Leira would¡¯ve sooner believed it was a human wearing body paint. She recognized her from the statue they¡¯d seen outside the lift¡ªOphelia Jaqlov. Oh shit, that¡¯s Ansoir¡¯s mom! His father sure looked more like the sick one.


    She¡¯d been prepared for some weird shit, as one must always be when dealing with the filthy rich, but this exceeded her expectations.


    Ansoir had gone unheard.


    ¡°Father!¡± he screeched.


    Stondemaier raised a lump of an arm that was indistinguishable from the rest of his body. Bits of stone crumbled away as he moved. The handless limb looked like a burnt log, but the way it sagged reminded Leira of bread dough.


    The music stopped. Leira turned to see that the players in the string quartet were Taluses.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Stondemaier¡¯s voice sounded like grinding gravel. The words came slow. ¡°Is that Brock I sense?¡±


    Leira turned back to the door, saw the Talus heaving the plate aside so that he could fit through the gap. He rolled forward, bowed to the elder Jaqlov.


    ¡°I hope my son is treating you well,¡± Stondemaier said. ¡°If he¡¯s cruel, you tell me. I¡¯ll punish him.¡±


    Brock bowed again and then rolled over to stand near the other statues.


    Laughter erupted from the table of guards. She looked over in time to see the sheriff spit right on the floor. Yeah, Leira thought. That man runs this place. Ansoir is too deluded to grasp the fact.


    Leira gave Ansoir an encouraging squeeze of the arm. She could not believe he was drunk enough to attempt this.


    He stepped forward.


    ¡°Father. I have come to discuss a most impoten¨C important matter.¡± He faltered and glanced at Leira. She smiled at him. ¡°And I have a joyous announcement to make.¡±


    Stondemaier¡¯s laugh was like a pickaxe smashing rock to bits. ¡°Disrespectful, boy. Greet your mother.¡±


    The statue sat beside Stondemaier clasped her hands. The way she moved was so natural. Her too-human lips formed a pleasant but tight smile.


    Ansoir straightened. ¡°Good evening, Ophelia. I hope you¡¯re enjoying the gala. Father, I believe-¡±


    Another burst of laughter. The sheriff and his guards were howling, banging their fists on the table.


    Leira bit at her lip. This was painfully awkward. Not much point in killing this useless sack of rubble. And she didn¡¯t fancy her chances against the sheriff, not in this situation at least. Hallows were always full of tricks, and Nirva resisted her spores.


    It was needless anyway; she had her ticket into the mines through Ansoir. There was nothing here worth toppling.


    Not knowing what else to do, Leira squeezed Ansoir¡¯s arm again. What a court of madness she¡¯d stumbled into.


    ¡°Father,¡± Ansoir began again. ¡°It¡¯s high time I take on the mantle of Burgermeister. It is my birthright. Podexia will thrive under my leadership.¡±


    Leira was not sure if Stondemaier was awake. A lip of gravel had fallen over his eyes, drooping down from his forehead. Her face grew hot¡ªshe¡¯d never been so embarrassed.


    ¡°The floota¨C the future comes. If Chateau Podexia is to remain strong and wealthy, and in the good graces of the Leviathan, we must look to the future. I am the future.¡±


    One guard made an impressively realistic bawking chicken sound. One of the others fell out of her chair.


    Ansoir pressed on, the absolute madman.


    ¡°I will bring back the glory days of Podexia that I remember so fondly from my youth.¡±


    No one said anything. Who does he even think he¡¯s talking to? His mentally addled father? His mute statue of a mother¡ªLeira didn¡¯t even want to guess at what¡¯d happened there. Surely not the cackling peanut gallery led by the openly vindictive Hallowed cowboy?


    Through his drunken haze, Ansoir seemed to recognize that this was going poorly. And yet, he cleared his throat. ¡°That leads me to my announcement. To show my preparedness for Burgermeistership, I intend to marry this fine woman who stands beside me. Lady Leira¡­ Erm.¡± He turned to her and whispered behind his hand, ¡°What¡¯s your surname?¡±


    Cheeks burning, Leira stared straight ahead. Fucking hell. She¡¯d forgotten about that part.


    A cluster of ropes appeared from nowhere and coiled around Ansoir¡¯s afro. He swatted at them while his poofy hair was bound up so that it looked like salami in a meat net.


    Ansoir screamed and fell to his knees, flopping like a fish on a line.


    Swarm of ropes trailing from his hand, Sheriff Jackson climbed the stairs to stand in front of the throne, effortlessly wrangling poor Ansoir as he went.


    Shit. If he gets himself killed, things get a lot worse for me.


    Aghast, Leira looked past the sheriff to see Stondemaier, staring blankly, unmoving. The statue of Ophelia sat hunched over, her face buried in her stone hands.


    Leira froze up like a panicked rodent. What the fuck is going on!


    Ansoir curled into the fetal position and squeezed his eyes shut.


    ¡°Apologize to me, princess,¡± the sheriff growled. The ropes grew straight out of his palm. They loosened and tightened on their own, wrenching Ansoir around.


    ¡°Look me in the eye,¡± Sheriff Jackson said. The ropes unwound themselves from Ansoir¡¯s afro and then snaked around his limbs. With a flick of the sheriff¡¯s wrist, Ansoir was lifted onto his feet, suspended like a puppet.


    Then, two thinner ropes shot out of Jackson¡¯s other hand. One coiled around Ansoir¡¯s face to raise his bowed head. The other untwined into tiny strands that crawled up Ansoir¡¯s face to ensnare his eyelashes. His eyelids were forced open.


    Damn, Leira thought. The sheriff had a good handle on his Invoke.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry!¡± Ansoir squealed. ¡°I¡¯m drunker than a beggar. Please forgive me!¡±


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ mosquito.¡± Jackson grinned, revealing golden teeth. He squirted brown spit through the gap in his front teeth. The wad landed on Ansoir¡¯s afro.


    The lordling whimpered.


    The guards roared with laughter.


    ¡°Goddamn, kid,¡± Jackson said. ¡°You are one baby-backed bitch. I¡¯m not gonna kill ya. I won¡¯t do that to your old man. Stony¡¯s done me so much good, after all. ¡®Sides, it¡¯s funnier this way! You can¡¯t pay for entertainment like this.¡±


    ¡°Father!¡± Ansoir shrieked.


    The amorphous pile of rocks shifted. Cloudy eyes flickered open. ¡°What happens?¡± Stondemaier said.


    Jackson¡¯s ropes vanished. ¡°Go ahead, boy. Tell him,¡± he said with a drawl.


    Ansoir¡¯s legs were shaking. ¡°N-nothing, father. I only wished to thank you for this lovely party.¡±


    Stondemaier laughed, crumbling and broken. ¡°Don¡¯t thank me. Thank your mother.¡±


    ¡°T-thank you, Ophelia. Mother, I mean,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Stondemaier looked at Ophelia, who still hid her face. His gash of a mouth gaped open, revealing bright, reddened tissue within. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, my love?¡±


    Jackson conjured a rope and flicked it like a whip. ¡°Cheer up, Lady Ophelia, or I¡¯ll kill them both.¡±


    Ophelia straightened up, took Stondemaier¡¯s molting hand, and cradled it against her face.


    ¡°Go on, Ansoir,¡± Stondemaier said. ¡°Enjoy the party! Lots of pretty ladies about, I suspect.¡±


    Ansoir looked at the sheriff, eyes like a begging dog.


    Jackson nodded. ¡°Go. Try some bullshit like that again? I¡¯ll dice you like a fuckin¡¯ apple.¡±


    Ansoir turned on his heel and sprinted away, fleeing the throne room.


    After missing a beat due to her overwhelming relief, Leira ran after him.


    Back in the tunnel, Leira saw no sign of that poor, sorry bastard. She didn¡¯t fancy getting lost in this madhouse, so she wasn¡¯t about to look too hard.


    Dammit. I always overreach.


    Behind her ¨C a thunderous clattering. She dove out of the way.


    Brock the Talus emerged from the throne room, tore past her, boulders spinning at full tilt. He raced off down the hall without sparing her a glance.


    Stupid thing. Leira stood and brushed herself off. She¡¯d hoped to learn more about Podexia, and she¡¯d gotten way more than she bargained for. What an absolute horror show. That idiot and his mindless father were trapped under the sheriff¡¯s boot.


    Worst of all, she¡¯d blundered her chance at getting escorted into the prison.


    Leira trudged down the cave-like hall. She hoped the party was still going. She needed to do some drinking of her own and wash that foul taste out of her mouth.


    It wasn¡¯t over. She¡¯d march right into the prison and raise as much hell as she could.


    Something had to be driving the currents that had delivered her to Gwil. Finally, she¡¯d found someone halfway decent. She¡¯d killed him, for fuck¡¯s sake, and even that hadn¡¯t caused a problem.


    And for that someone to be connected to Ashkana. An impossible coincidence. No, it could not end like this.


    If it was required, she would unleash a Full Blooming. What other part could I play?


    Leira laughed at herself. She was being dramatic. Panicking. She blamed it on the booze. It wouldn¡¯t come to that. And if it did, so be it. Gwil would figure out how to bring her back¡ªhe already knew what she required to escape the rebirth flower. And they would keep drifting on.


    As she neared the garage door that led outside, Leira heard that clattering sound again. She whipped around. Brock was rolling toward her.


    ¡°Damn, Brock. Sorry you¡¯re stuck living in this hellhouse. See ya.¡±


    She made for the door, but the Talus scooted past her and blocked the way. He rolled back and forth like a revving vehicle.


    ¡°You want me to follow you?¡± Leira asked.


    Brock¡¯s boulder head shifted in a nod, and he rolled up the tunnel, looking back at Leira as he went.


    She caught up to him, running to match his pace.


    ¡°What are we doing?¡±


    ¡°Ah, dammit, you can¡¯t talk.¡±


    ¡°So, how is it being a rock-person?¡±


    Leira wanted to ask Brock how he¡¯d feel about overthrowing his masters. He would be damned useful. But she couldn¡¯t risk it. Who knew how the mind of a walking rock worked?


    She wasn¡¯t comfortable going this deep into the manor. Leira was about to turn around and high tail it, but Brock stopped next to an unadorned stretch of wall.


    He gestured toward the ceiling and then knocked against the stone.


    ¡°Go away, Brock,¡± called a whimpering voice.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Leira muttered, crouching to look up into a man-sized crack near the ceiling.


    Brock gestured more frantically and then lowered his boulder fist so that she could step on it. ¡°Ugh, alright.¡±


    He lifted her up to the gap.


    Leira stuck her head into the crevice and saw Ansoir laying facedown on the narrow shelf. She sighed. ¡°Get out of there.¡±


    ¡°Brock, you idiot! How could you bring her here? I¡¯m mortified.¡±


    ¡°Quit being a weird asshole for once in your life and get down!¡± Leira yelled. She jumped off of Brock¡¯s hand. She¡¯d give him five seconds¡­


    The heir of Podexia stuck his head out. He looked like a doll that had been left outside through winter. His face was splotched red from crying, smeared with caked foundation. Black streaks of eyeliner trailed down his cheeks. The heavy dose of product in his hair caused it to retain the ridiculous shape that had been formed by Jackson¡¯s ropes.


    He looked like an insane and very down-on-his-luck clown.


    Ansoir shimmied his way out and Brock helped him down.


    ¡°Lady Leira. I ¨C I blame the alcohol,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°It¡¯s no excuse, I know. But I want to¡­¡± He gagged, then clenched his teeth. ¡°Apologize.¡±


    Leira was too bemused to speak.


    Ansoir laughed in a courtly manner, attempting to feign some dignity. ¡°I don¡¯t apologize very often, you know, so¡­¡±


    ¡°You gotta buck up, man,¡± Leira said. ¡°That¡¯s a wild mess you¡¯re in, but you¡¯re only making it worse.¡±


    Ansoir stuck out his jaw, perhaps in an attempt to make himself look less pitiful. ¡°That cowboy bastard ¨C I¡¯ll murder him!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Leira said. She smiled. ¡°You should get some sleep. We have our date tomorrow, yes?¡±


    Ansoir¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Of course! Looking upon my slaves is just what I need. In the morning? Ten o¡¯clock?¡±


    ¡°Ten o¡¯clock,¡± Leira said. ¡°In the main square.¡± She fluttered her fingers over her shoulder as she strode away.


    Poor sap. She felt a little bad, but not too much.

 Chapter Sixteen – Unshackled

    Clink, clink¡­


    The axe rose, the axe fell, driving the hours into dust.


    Gwil¡¯s hands were shaking, his guts churning. Anticipation and cold Kaia, working in tandem to sow agony through his bones.


    A squelching crunch. A scream. A choked gasp.


    Gwil turned.


    Cort put his boot on the chest of the guard that he¡¯d just killed and ripped the pickaxe from the man¡¯s shattered ribcage. Blood gushed from the wound in time with a slowing heart.


    Excited murmuring broke out throughout the tunnel.


    ¡°You next,¡± Cort said to Gwil. ¡°Lay down.¡±


    Gwil did so. Cort knelt beside him and examined the collar. He shook his head and stood. ¡°You might wanna try praying.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t miss,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°You¡¯re too trusting. Arch your head back. Give me a target.¡±


    Gwil bent his neck all the way back, getting his chin out of the way and propping himself up with the back of his head.


    The axe fell. The collar snapped.


    Fire, radiant and ravenous, an inferno swelling within his veins.


    The Nirva returned, furious, as if its confinement was a transgression that could not go unpunished.


    The gloomy cavern fell away, layer upon layer unraveling, peeling away as if carved by a knife. A field of reeds, a sky of butterflies. The World¡¯s deepest abstractions, revealed as dust.


    It made him feel so small.


    Through that instant, Gwil had no control over his body. His limbs flailed, slamming against the ground, flinging him up and down.


    His primal, mindless scream was silenced by a rough, grimy hand clamped over his mouth. Then, the fingers pinched his nostrils shut.


    With his other arm, Cort pinned Gwil against his chest in a one-armed bear hug.


    He couldn¡¯t breathe. He swatted at Cort¡¯s face.


    ¡°Pipe the fuck down,¡± Cort said with a grunt.


    ¡°Mm hiin nno!¡± Gwil¡¯s smothered bellowing had the high pitch of a whistling teakettle.


    Cort relaxed his grip.


    ¡°I said I¡¯m fine now,¡± Gwil said, gasping. ¡°Lemme go. It¡¯s passed.¡±


    Gwil stood. The crippling frailty that had weighed upon while he wore the collar had vanished. The burning blood soothed his aches like a hot bath. The voices were singing.


    His muscles thumped with visceral pulsations. Sturdiness surged through his bones. His limbs felt as strong as iron, yet featherlight.


    Every sensation was amplified. The dim light bloomed with clarity, glimmering in a prismatic array. The frigid air was as refreshing as the sea on a summer day. The smell, well, the smell of the Kaia was still rancid.


    ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Cort snapped.


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°I dunno. The collar. It¡¯s nothing.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not nothing,¡± Cort said.


    Gwil looked to where Cort pointed. Divots had been smashed into the rocky floor of the cave¡ªfist-sized, with spider-web cracks.


    ¡°Woah! Did I-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m pointing at,¡± Cort said. ¡°Look at your hand.¡±


    Gwil held up his arm, which he hadn¡¯t noticed had slipped out of its cuff.


    His hand was a mangled mass of red and pink pulp. Slivers of white bone peeked out through raw, glistening tissue. He could barely make out his fingers.


    ¡°Wh-wh-wh-¡±


    ¡°Shh! Do not scream!¡± Cort hissed.


    ¡°Fuuuuuck!¡± Gwil whisper-shouted.


    The bloody hunk of meat writhed, little worms of flesh twisting, curling into each other, growing into skin and bone.


    ¡°Wahhhahah!¡± Gwil screamed.


    Torn veins stitched back together. Blood vessels bloomed like tiny roses. Bones fused, cracking into place. Layers of granulation tissue formed, and then a blanket of thin, fresh skin.


    Then he stopped. ¡°Oh yeah, I forgot I could do that.¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Cort looked furious, but he had been yelling too.


    Chaos.


    Two guards came running in. Pickaxes clattered to the ground. The prisoners fell into panic, their rapid breaths buzzing like mosquitoes in their poisoned lungs.


    Gwil rushed the pair of guards, the iron ball bouncing in his wake. It felt like he was running as fast as a horse.


    A thrown pickaxe whizzed past him, spinning end over end. Its spike impaled one guard in the stomach.


    With his uninjured hand, Gwil socked the other one across the jaw, shattering his gasmask. Out cold, the man crumpled beside his writhing comrade.


    Gwil looked down the tunnel to see if anyone else was coming. They hadn¡¯t been that loud, had they?


    He turned back and saw that Cort had gathered up all the prisoners.


    ¡°Everyone,¡± Cort said, keeping his voice low. ¡°We¡¯re getting out of here. If you¡¯re fit, pair up with someone who¡¯s sick. First thing we¡¯re gonna do is get these chains off. Line up. Quick.¡±


    Gwil looked down at the guard, who was slowly dying with a pickaxe lodged in his abdomen. ¡°Hey Cort, I forget. Is it better to take it out, or leave it in?¡±


    Cort threw his hands up. ¡°Who gives a shit? Go find the other guard and send everyone else down here.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Gwil bolted into the hub at the base of the pit.


    Each of the pit¡¯s tunnels would¡¯ve had one guard, so there was only one left down here. But the prisoners were already rushing out of their tunnels. Gwil¡¯s eyes darted between them, searching for the guard. Then he heard a noise above.


    The last guard was climbing up the scaffolding.


    Nirva blazing in his leg, Gwil planted his foot and swung himself into a spinning kick, using the iron ball to blast through two of the scaffolding¡¯s supports.


    That half of the structure heaved and then collapsed. The guard lost his footing and came tumbling down.


    Gwil clambered up to meet him where he fell. He ripped off the guard¡¯s mask and then, using the heel of his palm, popped him in the forehead. The man¡¯s eyes rolled back, and he went still.


    As he climbed down, Gwil dragged the unconscious body and dumped it on the ground, somewhere out of the way. No need to kill everyone.


    More prisoners streamed into the main area of the pit. What a sight¡ªa screaming horde of half-dead ghouls, waxen skin aglow with Kaia, pickaxes swinging wildly.


    Cort came running up to where Gwil stood at the foot of the scaffolding.


    ¡°Weren¡¯t we supposed to keep quiet?¡± Gwil asked. ¡°They¡¯re yelling.¡±


    ¡°Are you shitting me? You broke the scaffolding. Loudest thing I ever heard. You know we have to climb out, right?¡±


    Gwil turned to gesture at the scaffolding and saw half a dozen guards peering down from the rim of the pit.


    Without a word, he leapt up onto the scaffolding and started climbing. The guards scattered.


    ¡°You better have one hell of an Invoke,¡± Cort shouted.


    He reached the top. Madness, all the guards running around like headless chickens. Most were gunning for the cavern¡¯s exit. Others seemed directionless, and a few fools retreated down into the pits.


    Gwil dashed toward the exit. He couldn¡¯t stop them¡ªseveral of the guards had already escaped. The whole prison would know what was happening.


    But he could at least hold the line against whatever came.


    Without thinking, Gwil leapt across one of the pits, only realizing in midair how far it was. He landed with one foot scrabbling on the edge, the other dangling.


    He caught himself by grabbing the ankles of the two shocked guards that stood there. In pulling himself up, he dumped them both into the pit.


    Ahead, a group of some fifteen guards had gotten themselves into formation. They closed in on him, charging with their spears. Gwil spun past the leader of the charge, grabbed the shaft of his weapon and wrenched it away. The man tripped and plummeted into one of the pits.


    Gwil held the co-opted spear sideways and clotheslined the next two. The rest of the gang piled onto him. He deflected a few jabs and then dropped the spear.


    He was better off without it. Nirva rushed through his body like never before, driving his every move.


    Gwil threw punches at whatever he could reach. His fists felt as sturdy as the iron ball that was shackled to his leg. He landed a solid blow on someone¡¯s chest and felt the ribcage collapse as the man went flying back.


    He grabbed two more by the backs of their heads and slammed their faces together.


    Gwil couldn¡¯t believe how good he was at fighting. It was so easy. His opponents moved as slowly as if they were underwater.


    The Nirva, the Nirva was monstrous. Against it, these ordinary humans were as weak as soggy noodles, and as fragile as paper mach¨¦.


    A spear from behind slashed through Gwil¡¯s leg. He felt the metal scrape against his hipbone. He threw himself backward into the man, grabbed him by the arm, and began spinning.


    Using their comrade as a bludgeon, he bowled through the rest of the attackers.


    The other guards that had been approaching him turned and fled, making for the exit. Gwil laughed as he chased after them.


    ***


    ¡°C¡¯mon, c¡¯mon, c¡¯mon!¡± Cort barked.


    He anchored an assembly line of prisoners as they lifted their sickly fellows up the collapsed scaffolding. Another group worked on breaking as many of the chains as they could.


    Cort was furious at both himself and Isca for allowing that brainless dipshit to be a part of their escape. He¡¯d ruined everything at the first step.


    Their chance was shot. Up in flames before it even got off the ground. The whole of Podexia was about to come crashing down on them.


    It was too late to turn back. All they could do was throw themselves into the gnashing jaws. Death would be better than whatever punishment they¡¯d reap for this pitiful attempt.


    The realization washed over him. They were all going to die. All these poor prisoners who Cort had let himself get tangled up with. Goddammit. He¡¯d failed them. And on top of that, he¡¯d given up his own life for nothing.


    Well, he could make peace with that. Not like he was gonna do anything worthwhile, anyway. At least he¡¯d die trying to do something decent. Except¡­


    Isca¡­


    ¡°Cort!¡± someone shouted from the top of the pit. ¡°We¡¯re still clear up here. Don¡¯t rush it!¡±


    ¡°Eh? How?¡± Cort yelled back.


    ¡°That Hallowed kid is running riot. The guards are trying to escape and he¡¯s not letting them!¡±


    Cort whipped around and¨C ¡°Shit! Watch out!¡± He¡¯d kicked a pile of detached iron balls and sent them rolling.


    Clutching his toe, he called out to a woman that was helping him get everyone out. ¡°Limmy, you good with the rest? I gotta see what¡¯s going on up top.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good. Go!¡±


    Cort grabbed two discarded pickaxes and clambered up the heap of scaffolding. At the top, he pushed his way through the gathered prisoners. A few eager ones had rushed ahead to join the fray.


    Cort surveyed the scene. ¡°I¡¯ll be damned.¡±


    A couple dozen guards lay scattered throughout the field of pits. Dead, dying, and unconscious, they formed a path of carnage leading toward the exit.


    At the mouth of the cavern, Gwil was tangled up in a mass of flailing bodies. He fended off attackers from both sides¡ªreinforcements had come.


    Podexian guards swarmed him, burying him beneath their bodies. But Gwil broke free every time, like a man at sea who refused to drown, surfacing between waves.


    The kid was a terror. He fought like a demon, ripping through armed and armored enemies like they were made of tissue. And he was laughing. The echoes of his lunatic cackling filled the cavern.


    Cort turned on the group behind him. ¡°What are y¡¯all standing around for? Go help everyone get out of the other pits. They got no damn clue what¡¯s goin¡¯ on.


    ¡°And watch out for any guards that went down to hide!¡± he added as they hurried off.


    With a pickaxe in each hand, Cort sprinted ahead to help Gwil. It sure as hell wasn¡¯t ideal, but maybe they still had a chance. And if not, this wasn¡¯t such a bad way to go out.

 Chapter Seventeen – The Door Is Open

    The sun was bright; the air was crisp. Leira deemed it a fine morning. She¡¯d just finished breakfast, where she¡¯d stuffed herself full of pastries, knowing that it would be some time before she could enjoy such a good meal again.


    She waited in the bustling square, listening to the nasal chatter of the Podexians. She wore the ragged clothes that Gwil had given her. She¡¯d tell Ansoir she didn¡¯t want to soil any of her finery by wearing it into the mines.


    Before heading out, Leira had stashed their two backpacks beside the garbage bins behind the inn. She doubted they¡¯d get the chance to retrieve them, so she¡¯d taken out the few useful things that could fit in her purse. Her dress took up most of the space, but she wasn¡¯t going to leave it behind. It was their most valuable possession, anyway.


    She ran through imagined scenarios in her head. They¡¯d do it real quiet like. Scope the place out, knock out a couple of guards, grab Gwil, and sneak right out. With some luck, some finesse, and some spores, she even thought it might be possible to do it right under Ansoir¡¯s nose. He was an oblivious nitwit, after all.


    Leira placed a hand over her fluttering heart as a smile twisted across her lips. Damn her thirst for excitement¡ªit caused nothing but trouble.


    She looked up as a disturbance swept through the crowd. Brock was rolling through the square.


    The Talus halted in front of her. Ansoir theatrically threw open the curtains and leaned out of the litter to lord over the crowd.


    ¡°Rejoice! I, Ansoir Jaqlov, future Burgermeister, grace you with my presence on this fine morning!¡±


    They hollered and applauded. As Leira took Ansoir¡¯s outstretched hand and climbed up to join him in the litter, she wished these people could have seen the sorry state of their lord last night.


    Ansoir held out his hand for Leira to kiss and then pulled it away. ¡°What is with that filthy clothing?¡±


    Leira flopped down into her chair as Ansoir cringed. His hands were outstretched as if he¡¯d intended to catch her before she dirtied the chair¡¯s upholstery.


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna wear nice clothes in a Kaia mine,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°You look like a fucking dirty peasant,¡± Ansoir hissed as he closed the curtains. ¡°Why not just buy new clothes, you silly woman?¡±


    Leira pouted her lips. ¡°Oh no. I guess I¡¯ll just have to change clothes after, won¡¯t I?¡±


    That shut him up. As if. Fucking idiot.


    ¡°Make haste, Brock! To the mines!¡± He stuck his head out of the curtains. ¡°Out of the way, menials!¡±


    Leira had hoped Ansoir would be hungover and embarrassed, and thus less boisterous. Instead, it seemed he was trying to compensate for last night¡¯s debacle. She decided to sour him.


    ¡°What¡¯s up with your mom? Was she always a statue? How¡¯s that work?¡±


    Ansoir stomped his feet on Brock¡¯s head. ¡°That is not my mother!¡± he shrieked. ¡°My mother is dead. She died when I was a boy. That¡­ thing is an abomination. My father is deranged.¡±


    ¡°How unique,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°It¡¯s not unique. It¡¯s disgusting. A disgrace to her memory.¡± He clenched his teeth. ¡°Her ashes are mixed with the stone.¡± Ansoir clutched at his face, tugging at his fat cheeks. ¡°Her death destroyed my father¡¯s mind. You saw how he¡¯s ruined his body with sick experiments. He is a slave to grief and delusion.¡±


    Leira didn¡¯t care about that family¡¯s insanity. They¡¯d earned their misery. She pulled open the curtain to look outside and saw the wall looming ahead. Her hands started sweating.


    Ansoir still blustered in his seat like a raging baby. ¡°That piece of shit sheriff,¡± he spat. ¡°I¡¯ll kill him! I swear, I¡¯ll kill him!¡±


    At his screaming, Brock¡¯s steadiness wavered, and a flock of birds fled from the nearby tree they¡¯d been perching in.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think about that stuff, my lord,¡± Leira said, making her voice sweeter than honey. ¡°Let¡¯s just enjoy our date. Let us revel in the suffering of the slaves.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Lady Leira, of course. You know just how to cheer me up. Let us glory in my wealth and my Kaia.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s do that,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Why are you going so slowly, Brock?¡± Ansoir barked. ¡°Don¡¯t be such a coward.¡±


    Leira raised her eyebrows at that.


    ¡°None of the Taluses ever go into the mines,¡± Ansoir explained. ¡°My father says they fear the Kaia, and he thinks such slavish work is beneath his creations.¡±


    Hearing that made Leira want to rip her ears off.


    ¡°I¡¯ve not been inside myself in, oh, a decade,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°It¡¯s a vile place, and it smells like manure and rotting peons. Their ceaseless screaming is very irritating as well. I should¡¯ve brought earmuffs.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Leira smiled. ¡°Oh good. It sounds like my traitorous slave must be very miserable!¡± She clasped her hands. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see!¡±


    After a short time, they reached the end of the dusty road that led up to the wall. Brock halted in front of the gate. Leira and Ansoir both leaned out.


    A guard stood on the catwalk that was mounted on the wall above the gate. The man started flailing upon seeing Ansoir.


    ¡°My lord! Forgive me! I wasn¡¯t informed you¡¯d be visiting.¡±


    Ansoir leaned out further. Leira prepared to deal with the both of them if it came to that.


    ¡°Am I meant to seek permission to enter my own mines? I should have you executed for that. Open the damn gate, you insolent slime!¡±


    ¡°I would, my lord,¡± the guard said. ¡°But I¡¯ve just received a report about some sort of disturbance within the prison. A minor thing, I¡¯m sure, but I think I¡¯d better check what-¡±


    The lotus petals whirring, Leira fixed her gaze on the guard and released a narrow stream of red spores. She shrieked, ¡°Open the fucking gate, you inhuman piece of garbage!¡±


    Ansoir looked very proud.


    Wobbling, the guard moved to a control panel and pulled the lever. The gate opened. The guard made to turn around, spun like a ballerina, and then flipped over the railing.


    Leira grimaced as the man landed hard on his back. She hadn¡¯t meant for him to do that. At least the fall wasn¡¯t that high. He¡¯d probably be fine.


    ¡°Bahaha!¡± Ansoir pointed gleefully at the sputtering man. ¡°He must have passed out with fear at my presence.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what he gets for giving you trouble, my lord,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Indeed! How laughable. What sort of disturbance could there ever be in this shithole?¡±


    ¡°Yes, what could a bunch of worthless slaves do to the future Burgermeister of Podexia?¡±


    ¡°They can kiss the ground where I walk and that¡¯s it,¡± Ansoir said. He clucked his tongue as if urging a horse. ¡°Move along, Brock. Let us see the place where your soul was unearthed. You and your kin owe everything to these mines.¡±


    Leira grimaced. So, what¡¯s going on in there, Gwil? She should¡¯ve expected he wouldn¡¯t just sit around waiting for her. At least, her timing was good.


    They crossed through the wall.


    ***


    One of the Podexians tried to run from him. Cort grabbed the man by the collar and wrenched him onto the ground. He raised his axe to finish him.


    And someone grabbed his wrist. Cort ripped free, spun while making to strike back. It was Gwil.


    ¡°Hey, man. You don¡¯t gotta kill him,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Are you crazy?¡± Cort barked. ¡°You killed a bunch of them. All gung-ho about breaking out and you¡¯re shy about killing. And you call me a coward?¡±


    ¡°Did I? Well, look at him,¡± Gwil said, gesturing at the whimpering man. ¡°He¡¯s cooked. Just leave him.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re all rats,¡± Cort spat. ¡°Every last one of ¡®em. He¡¯ll stab us in the back at the first chance.¡±


    Gwil nudged the guard with his foot. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°D-Dwillard,¡± the man said.


    ¡°Do you want us to spare your life, Dwillard?¡±


    The man took his mask off and threw it away. He had a chubby, jolly face. Gwil thought he looked like a goofball.


    ¡°Gods, please!¡± Dwillard cried. ¡°I was sold to Jaqlov. I¡¯m the same as you!¡±


    ¡°See?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Fuck that,¡± Cort growled. ¡°I recognize you, Dwillard. I remember watching your ratfuck face laughing while you watched an old woman get whipped to death. All these guards have been drinking our blood, Gwil.¡±


    ¡°Vampires?¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me before?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Cort roared. ¡°No! Goddammit. Listening to you is so painful. I meant they¡¯re violent scum that deserve nothing but death, and definitely not mercy.¡±


    ¡°Oh c¡¯mon,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Dwillard¡¯s fine.¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡± Cort put his boot on Dwillard¡¯s chest. ¡°You won the lottery. Consider yourself spared. Do nothing except sit still and pray for your life. If you cause us a single shred of trouble, I will rip out each of your fingernails, and each of your toenails, and stab them into your eyeballs. I¡¯ll pack ¡®em in like the candles in a one-hundred-year-old¡¯s birthday cake.¡±


    Dwillard passed out.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Gwil said, scanning the cavern. ¡°Looks like everyone¡¯s down.¡±


    Cort caught his breath, taking in the sudden calmness. Spur of the moment, he had decided their best option was to lock themselves inside the cavern. They needed time.


    He and Gwil had fought their way to the controls for the gigantic blast door that sealed off the cavern in case of an emergency.


    The door was slow in closing, so most of the Podexians had managed to escape before it shut.


    They¡¯d just finished cleaning up the unlucky bastards who got stuck on the wrong side.


    ¡°They¡¯re gonna bring the big machines to bust down the door,¡± Cort said to Gwil and the other prisoners. ¡°And we can¡¯t open it ourselves cause we destroyed the controls. So, all we can do is wait for them to break through and then give ¡®em hell.¡±


    ¡°Oo, do you think they¡¯re gonna use that giant car with the drill on the front?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°Probably,¡± Cort said, rubbing his chin. ¡°They can¡¯t use explosives¡ªthey won¡¯t risk the Kaia.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Whatever they try, the timing¡¯s gonna be razor thin.¡±


    ¡°I have an idea,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go out and stop them.¡±


    Cort didn¡¯t bother responding to that. Instead, he went off to find Isca, who was helping get the sickest prisoners in order. They¡¯d managed to get everyone out of the pits. That shivering, murmuring mass of people looked more shocked than excited.


    He looked at the bodies strewn throughout the cavern. All Podexians, and most had not fared as well as Dwillard. Not a single prisoner had been killed yet. Cort clenched his teeth. Lucky so far.


    ***


    Gwil flexed the new fingers on his hand. The skin was shiny and pink, still writhing. He grinned. I can run wild with this.


    So far, the World was a disgusting disappointment. So much greed and cruelty. Everyone in Podexia seemed afflicted with madness.


    And the World was bigger than he¡¯d ever imagined. It looked like there¡¯d be a lot of bad shit to sift through.


    But first things first. They needed to fight their way out of here. And that cowboy sheriff had made a fool out of him. Gwil really wanted another chance at that bastard.


    Nirva. Even as he fought off all those guards, Gwil could tell he only scratched at the surface of something bottomless. There was so much more.


    Those ropes¡­ And Skuld, that old man did impossible things as easily as he breathed. All the stories people tell. Gwil was one of them. He could do that stuff too. He¡¯d make it happen, no matter what.


    And Leira said there were thousands of Hallows running around?


    That meant he had to become as strong as any of them¡ªstronger¡ªif they were going to cross the whole World and find Ashkana.


    But¡­ why, Caris? Why didn¡¯t you want this for me?


    Gwil cracked his knuckles. His stomach felt full of frenzied butterflies.


    After they got out of the prison, he was gonna beat the shit out of the sheriff. If he couldn¡¯t even do that, then they weren¡¯t gonna make it anywhere, anyway.


    Gwil had lied to Cort about that Invoke business. He didn¡¯t have any magic. But earlier, when the collar came off, there was something. He¡¯d only caught a glimpse of a tiny, fleeting thing. Quiet beneath the voices, obscured by the prismatic veil, buried in the ashes.


    He just needed to reach out and grab it.

 Chapter Eighteen – Helping Hands

    Isca threw one arm around Gwil¡¯s neck and the other around Cort¡¯s waist and pulled them in for a hug.


    ¡°You guys are monsters!¡± she yelled. ¡°Look how many of them you killed.¡±


    She released them and buried her face in her hands. A layer of grime painted over her tattoos. ¡°It¡¯s really happening.¡±


    ¡°Isca,¡± Cort said. ¡°Get it together. We¡¯re not even close to done.¡±


    She set her jaw. ¡°I know. But this is enough. Even if we fail, it¡¯ll be done. If there¡¯s no other way, this place will die with all of us.¡±


    ¡°Stop talking like that,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Everyone is gonna go free.¡±


    Cort muttered something.


    ¡°I mean it,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I¡¯ll die before I let a single person die.¡±


    Cort threw his hands up. ¡°That doesn¡¯t even¨C gah!¡±


    Isca glared at Gwil. ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not lying. I swear. Not one death.¡±


    Isca shook her head and then looked down at her arm, tracing her finger along her wrist.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± Gwil said.


    All around them, chains were breaking. Pickaxe-wielding prisoners were going around, cutting the shackles from their fellows.


    Like wolves on the scent, one hundred haggard, twisted humans looked up at the stone sky, wondering if it could break.


    The iron balls, carried in the hands of their former bearers, were being placed in a pile. It grew and grew.


    And then it began to rain dust and shards of rock. The ground and the walls were shaking.


    Panic ripped through the prisoners, choking away the invigoration that had only just swelled.


    An awful, grinding squeal emanated from the enormous metal door.


    Gwil raised his fists in the air. ¡°It¡¯s the drill!¡±


    Cort smacked him on the back of the head, then muttered, ¡°That door is thicker than hell. We have time.¡± He raised his voice. ¡°Listen up! This ain¡¯t gonna be no picnic. If you can¡¯t fight, go hide in that pit.¡± He pointed toward the end of the cavern opposite the door.


    Isca threw herself into the throng. She was shouting, but her voice was lost in the uproar.


    Gwil gaped. No one moved.


    Isca was trying to help the ones who could barely stand, but they were fighting her off. Skeletal, ancient, infected¡ªthey refused to move away.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Cort yelled. ¡°Don¡¯t be getting yourself killed if you can¡¯t-¡±


    Gwil elbowed him in the ribs. ¡°Don¡¯t you see?¡±


    ¡°It only makes things harder for everyone if we gotta protect people who can¡¯t even walk,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°You can¡¯t take that away,¡± Gwil said.


    One hundred men and women remained where they were, all on their feet. Unshackled.


    ¡°Fucking hell,¡± Cort grumbled. ¡°Wanting something doesn¡¯t make it real.¡± He raised his voice. ¡°Fine! If you¡¯re gonna give yourselves to this madness, I better not see anyone get left behind!¡±


    The tense whining of the drill crescendoed. The tip ripped through the door.


    Gwil sprinted for the door.


    A raging stampede fell in behind him.


    ¡°No! Dammit, wait!¡± Cort yelled.


    ***


    Something was obviously amiss within the prison. Brock carried them through a long, cavernous tunnel. The Talus had begun shivering when they entered, making for a bumpy ride.


    The tunnel was empty, and eerie for it. Occasional sharp echoes were the only sign of activity.


    ¡°The officers in charge of this prison have committed a most severe transgression,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°They must be punished.¡±


    Leira was trying to map out the myriad paths that branched off this passageway when she realized Ansoir was waiting for her to respond.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± she muttered.


    ¡°There should be a welcoming party for myself and my betrothed!¡±


    Leira sighed. She took one of Ansoir¡¯s hands in both of hers, looked him in the eyes, leaned in close and said, ¡°I can¡¯t stand it anymore! Shut the fuck up, you insufferable, brainless twat!¡±


    A pink cloud enveloped Ansoir¡¯s face before he had the chance to process what she¡¯d said. That was regrettable¡ªhe desperately needed to learn that he was a brainless twat.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Unconscious, he slumped across her lap. She shoved him away.


    Brock had come to a halt. Leira clambered down and scurried away from the hulking Talus, preparing to bolt.


    When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw Brock¡¯s faceless head bowed to the ground, his boulder-shoulders hunched. He looked pathetic, like a stray dog in the rain.


    Leira bit her lip, irritated at herself for stopping. ¡°What¡¯ll it be, Brock?¡± she spat.


    Putrid brown spores oozed from the lotus. Her normal eye watered at the acidic fumes. It stank so bad that it trumped the smell of the Kaia. ¡°I don¡¯t want to, but I¡¯ll melt you down if I have to.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t do that, of course¡ªthe acid wasn¡¯t nearly strong enough. But she must¡¯ve looked awfully scary, and Brock was probably dumb enough to take her at her word, because he was just a rock.


    The Talus heaved his shoulders in an utterly defeated shrug. In the litter, Ansoir slumped in his chair, a string of drool pooling onto the other seat.


    Something was happening further up the tunnel. Clangs and shouting voices, growing louder and more frequent.


    ¡°Your fucking master enslaved my friend,¡± Leira said. Brown beads of burning sap dripped down her cheek, scalding her skin. ¡°Are you gonna try to stop me?¡±


    The Talus shook his head.


    ¡°Run away, then,¡± Leira said. ¡°Do whatever you want with Ansoir. I dunno if you give a shit about him or not.¡±


    Again, Brock shook his head. And then he prostrated himself.


    Leira quelled the spores. She hawked up a mouthful of rancid phlegm and spat it on the ground, where it sizzled. She wiped the sap from her cheeks.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna help me?¡±


    Brock nodded.


    ¡°Fuck yeah. I didn¡¯t think a rock could be so free-thinking. Get up, let¡¯s go.¡±


    Leira climbed back into the litter, heaved Ansoir over the back of the chair, dumping him down onto the floor. She wedged him behind the chairs so he wouldn¡¯t fall out.


    ¡°Too bad you don¡¯t know where we¡¯re going,¡± Leira said. ¡°Just keep going forward. And fast.¡±


    Brock¡¯s boulder legs spun up, and they plunged deeper into the mines. Ahead, it sounded like a full-blown riot.


    Leira laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t think you know what you¡¯re getting into. I was planning to just break my friend out and escape, but it sounds like he might¡¯ve pushed things pretty far.¡±


    In truth, she felt terrified, but it mixed well with her adrenaline.


    Five days. It had been five days since she met Gwil. And they were striking against the Leviathan. Indirectly, but still. That was worthy of Ashkana.


    Many footsteps, lots of shouting. Dozens of Podexian guards appeared out of the gloom up ahead.


    ¡°Oh shit! Run them over, Brock! Fuck them up!¡±


    The Talus did no such thing. Instead, he went well out of his way to avoid crushing anyone, grinding the side of his body against the cave wall to clear space. Ansoir had said that his father believed the stone was peaceful.


    Leira looked at the panicked soldiers as they rushed past each other. Oh, Gwil. What did you do?


    ***


    The brunt of the drill had pierced the two-story-tall blast door. The metal was knotted up like a fistful of fabric. It groaned, crumpled, and then tore apart.


    A huge shard exploded out, ripping through the air, spinning like a dervish.


    On instinct, Gwil leapt straight upward, threw his hands out over his head and shoved the thing away. It crashed into one of the pits, harmless.


    Gwil looked over his shoulder and saw ten ghost-pale prisoners who would¡¯ve been eviscerated by the shard.


    Grinning, he waved at the prisoners and noticed that two of his fingers got chopped off.


    Close one. That could¡¯ve been his promise to Isca broken, before they¡¯d even started. He wasn¡¯t sparring with Caris or messing with some dumb beasts. Anything could happen at any time. No messing around.


    The drill lurched forward, chewing metal into jagged curls. It had penetrated the door¡ªwhich was a meter thick¡ªnearly to its base. A shredded gap had formed¡ªan opening.


    Gwil ran to meet the monstrous machine.


    Everything within the cavern slowed and became distorted, swirling like a portrait. How strange, he thought as he hurled himself over a pit.


    The drill¡¯s whine was earsplitting. Vicious. Cone-shaped, longer than Gwil was tall, blurred by its speed, the whirling spike spitting bits of metal. Nirva was great and all, but that thing looked deadly serious. The vehicle itself was over a half-story tall.


    Landing in front of it, Gwil realized he had no goddamn clue what to do. He only knew that he¡¯d better hurry.


    He threw himself at the door and climbed up, using its bracketing for footing. Maybe, maybe he could squeeze through that perilous sliver of space and stop them from the other side.


    He shimmied closer to the gash, squinting against the metals shavings that were whipping through the air. The force of the drill vibrated in his bones.


    A strip of metal tore away like cheese off a grater. It slashed him across the ribs.


    Gwil¡¯s eyes widened as a wave of blood poured down his front. Numb and breathless, he patted his hand against the mangled mess, unable to tell his flesh from his clothing.


    It felt a bit like that first heartbeat after a paper cut, except that this was a gaping cavity of a wound.


    His limbs went cold as his Nirva surged. He could feel it flowing away from his arms and legs, coalescing in his torso.


    Shredded flesh turned into wriggling worms. The tissue looked like stretched out chewing gum as it reformed.


    A terrible groan came from the door¡ªit was at its limit.


    Gwil peeled his eyes away from the bizarre happenings of his body and climbed up the door until he was level with the gash.


    The group of prisoners that had followed him to the door were screaming their heads off. ¡°Stop! No! Lunatic!¡± were some of the words he caught.


    Gwil ignored them and craned his neck to see out. Flying bits of debris were slicing up his face.


    There were some fifty Podexians on the other side, gathered behind the drill. They certainly hadn¡¯t expected to see a head peeking through the door.


    The problem was, one of the guards was a splicer with a frog¡¯s tongue. And Gwil happened to be looking at that particular man when his tongue rolled out of his gaping mouth and stretched down to the floor.


    Gwil lost his grip, flailed, had his hand obliterated by the drill, and then fell from near the top of the door.


    He smacked down hard¡ªflat on his back¡ªand tried to scramble away, but his body wasn¡¯t working. He could feel his Nirva sputtering around as if indecisive. Blood gushed from the end of his wrist. Ugh. That hand hadn¡¯t even finished growing back yet.


    The door caved inward, bulging on the brink of destruction. The drill was about to break all the way through. A big flap of scrap had gotten stuck on the drill turning it into a nightmarish propeller.


    It happened slowly. Gwil saw the weaknesses in the door, like splotches of ethereal paint, little wounds in its fabric.


    In a few seconds, Gwil would be turned into paste. He wasn¡¯t gonna be healing through that. But he just couldn¡¯t move. Dammit. Killed because of a tongue.


    Hunched figures appeared around him. Hands grabbed him, started dragging him across the rugged ground. His vision was fading in and out. His head was lolled, spurring nausea.


    A group of prisoners crowded around him. Gwil heard fabric tearing, and then a woman grabbed his injured arm and held it up. They were trying to put on a makeshift bandage.


    ¡°My name¡¯s Limmy,¡± she said shakily. ¡°You¡¯re gonna be fine.¡± It did not at all sound like she believed herself.


    Gwil pulled away from them and sat up with some help. He held up his arm. A thin layer of flesh was forming around the jutting-out, splintered end of bone. With the way it writhed, it looked like a rotten, maggot-infested tree stump.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry! I¡¯m fine!¡± Gwil grinned. ¡°Thanks!¡±


    The door was gone. The Podexians were coming through.

 Chapter Nineteen – All the Small Things

    Cort ran around like a madman, trying to get the riffraff into squads and putting them in defensive positions behind clusters of stalagmites.


    He hoped the pits would help them hold some ground. The Podexians wouldn¡¯t have an easy advance, at least.


    Cort tripped over a rolling iron ball but stayed on his feet. ¡°Argh! Again?¡± Damned things.


    That gave him an idea.


    ¡°Isca! Isca!¡± he screamed over the furor.


    She looked around and then caught his eye.


    Cort pointed at the pile of iron balls and began gesturing wildly. ¡°Roll them to the door! To the door!¡±


    The cavern had a slope to it that bottomed out in front of the door. That could buy them some time - Cort would carve out every sliver. He turned away as Isca started directing the prisoners.


    Just in time to see the door crumple into a ball. Prisoners scattered, pissing on whatever orders Cort had given them. He spotted Gwil¡ªdrenched in blood but running his fucking mouth as always¡ªstumbling away with a few other prisoners.


    The tank crawled through, lumbering on its big treads. It was monstrous. The Podexian force stayed behind it, matching its sluggish pace.


    Fuck. That thing was unstoppable. It would shred them all into tiny pieces. Cort didn¡¯t care to go to hell as a pile of woodchips. The tank was slow and cumbersome.


    ¡°Advance!¡± he screamed. ¡°Get behind the tank!¡±


    Cort scooped up a couple of pickaxes as he charged forward.


    ***


    Chaos enveloped the prison. Guards ran every which way. An annoying alarm blared without surcease. The commotion had sent Brock into a panic, and now they were lost.


    Leira shook her head. Literally made of solid stone, and he¡¯s as timid as a mouse.


    Ahead, a ball of purple fire bloomed within the tunnel.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Leira said. ¡°A laser gun?¡± That set her heart racing, but the weapon¡¯s discharge looked too volatile to be of Leviathan make.


    Brock went into a frenzy as sections of the tunnel collapsed. Blinded by fear, the idiot rolled toward the source rather than away.


    ¡°What is wrong with you?¡± Leira hissed. ¡°You¡¯re gonna get us vaporized. At least lift your arms up so I don¡¯t get crushed!¡± she squealed as a chunk of debris just missed crushing the litter.


    Brock took a sharp turn that nearly saw Leira thrown out. Recovering herself, she saw a blue glow through the haze. By the time she recognized the shape as a person, Brock had snatched them up, pinning the flailing figure between his two boulder hands.


    Leira saw a chrome laser gun fall to the ground.


    It was a strange little man, with long arms like a monkey, wild patchy white hair, and telescopic goggles. His skin glowed bright blue¡ªLeira had never seen someone so afflicted by Kaia.


    ¡°What the fuck, Brock? We¡¯re supposed to be looking for Gwil. Who is this guy? Hey! You¡¯re gonna smush him doing that.¡±


    Brock dropped the scientist-type fellow on the ground and then the Talus leaned forward to cover over the man and trap him in a very stalwart sort of cage. Leira thought she¡¯d piss herself if she were trapped in that position.


    She jumped down to take the measure of the scientist. ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± she asked, picking up the laser gun and inspecting it. What a piece of junk.


    ¡°I am Doctor Buzzard. Chief Scientist, Chief Researcher, and Chief Engineer of Chateau Podexia. I find your floral splice repugnant and in very poor taste, you heathen witch. The vaingloriousness of you people knows no bounds.¡±


    ¡°Eat shit,¡± Leira said. ¡°I couldn¡¯t get this Talus to hurt a fly, but it looks like he wants to crush you. What gives?¡±


    ¡°Well, I see you grew sick of dealing with Lord Ansoir and turned to a life of crime, Brock. Hmmm, I wonder,¡± Buzzard murmured. He held both his hands over his mouth, like a rat. ¡°Could it be? Yes, I suspect.¡±


    ¡°Answer the question,¡± Leira snapped. The petals swayed.


    Brock slammed his heavy fist against the ground. Splintering cracks shot out from the point of impact, crawling beneath the doctor, which gave him a start.


    ¡°Brock is mad because I designed the engines that power the Taluses,¡± Buzzard said quickly. ¡°But it was not I who saddled him with a mind. I only gifted the Taluses the ability to be something more than sentient vegetables. Nothing deserving of such vehement vitriol. The World puts the curse of existence on all of us. To live is seldom joyous. I think we can all agree with that. Heehee.


    ¡°And I had nothing to do with the fact that he was made to serve as Ansoir¡¯s personal Talus, though that is something worth seeking vengeance over.¡±


    Leira pressed her palms against her temples. ¡°Whatever. Brock, kill this miserable freak and be quick about it.¡±


    The Talus heaved as Leira skittered away. But Brock hesitated, his limbs shaking. He toppled over onto his side. His boulders sighed and went limp. He looked like a sleeping bear.


    ¡°Tch. Get up, Brock.¡± She moved to stand above Buzzard, who still sat on the ground. ¡°You¡¯re important, yeah? I guess I¡¯m collecting hostages then.¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s long, noodley arm flared with light and swung at Leira.


    She¡¯d been prepared for that. The lotus opened, puffed out a cloud of pink spores. The scientist sneezed, and then fell over onto his side, stiff as a board.


    ¡°Ah ah ah, nice try,¡± Leira said, wagging her finger. ¡°I¡¯m no idiot. I see your jacked to the tits with Kaia. I guess that¡¯s why you¡¯re still conscious, too.¡±


    ¡°Merciless gods,¡± Buzzard said, speaking through a locked-up jaw and a slack tongue. ¡°It¡¯s real. You are a Megrim Child. You hold the World in your eye!¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Leira said, kicking him in the ribs. ¡°Sorry, Brock, but he¡¯s coming with us. He seems useful.¡± She picked Buzzard up under his arms and shoved him up into the litter, dropping him behind the chairs so that he laid on top of Ansoir. Then she sat down with Buzzard¡¯s laser gun lying across her lap.


    After a fit of grunting, Buzzard said, ¡°Who¡¯s this that I¡¯m lying on top of? Lord Ansoir! You have him with you? I demand to know what¡¯s going on. I despise being ignorant.¡±


    ¡°Good thinking, Brock,¡± Leira said. ¡°This guy can tell us where to go. Where¡¯s the action at, doc?¡±


    ¡°Turn around,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°You were going the wrong way.¡±


    Brock spun about and went back up the tunnel. Leira hummed along with the shrill pulses of the alarm.


    ¡°What were you doing firing this laser gun off all willy-nilly?¡± she asked, holding the weapon up.


    ¡°Is someone so gifted truly so dense? I was blockading myself, so I wouldn¡¯t get ripped apart by a horde of angry prisoners, obviously. Heehee. I happened to be outside of my laboratory when the commotion began, and it seems things are escalating.


    ¡°By the way, your enchantment is making it very difficult for me to speak. How does it work? You are a myth made real. And not just real, but undeniable. I didn¡¯t think any of you existed anymore.¡± That whole slew of words came out as a garbled mess.


    ¡°You¡¯re talking more than enough,¡± Leira said. ¡°Hey, did you see a new prisoner? A Hallow, named Gwil.¡±


    Buzzard squealed. ¡°Oh my. Oh yes, I know him. Heehee. This has suddenly become the most interesting day I¡¯ve had in a long time.¡±


    ¡°You do?¡± Leira yelled. ¡°Is he okay?¡±


    ¡°It sounds like he¡¯s doing quite well,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Alright, Megrim Daughter. I will ally with you.¡±


    ¡°Fat chance,¡± Leira said. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m stuck with you and I don¡¯t want to die, of course. Heehee.¡±


    ***


    As the prisoners rushed the door, the drill tank plowed forward.


    And then the monstrous contraption stalled, lurched, and went off-kilter. Its treads had rolled up onto the field of iron balls.


    The Podexians screamed as the tank swerved backward and slid out, its deadly front end swiveling out of control. The careening drill chewed through a clump of bodies, turning them into red mist.


    In that moment, when the prisoners crashed against the Podexian line, it was raining blood.


    The tank crashed against the frame of the door, settling there, across the opening, with its outer side propped up on a cluster of iron balls. The drill stopped spinning, but the engine continued to chug.


    Gwil hurled himself into the mass of bodies and spears, into the thick of the Podexian ranks. He wrenched weapons away from their wielders, plucking them from weak arms like a parent snatching something from a child. He slammed his fists into anything he could reach, the half-formed one landing with wet, squelching impacts like a sponge slammed down on the floor.


    Stabbing spears ripped chunks out of his flesh, and yet they slowed him down no more than if they were mosquito bites.


    The Nirva flowed like a raging river. Oh, how the voices screamed. With the cries of the Podexians and the wheezing lungs of the prisoners, they formed a harmonious chorus. This conflict was drenched with the crimson-black hues of the Yalda¡¯blood.


    As he fought, moving as if this was a dance that he knew by heart, Gwil wondered. What the hell is Yalda¡¯blood? I¡¯ve never heard of that, but I know that it¡¯s the name of this tattered veil. And I see that we are all swaddled in its essence.


    Weird. Oh, well.


    His hand lashed out to catch a spear as its tip came within a hair of his adam¡¯s apple. He jerked the weapon back so that its butt rammed into the ribs of its wielder.


    That man stumbled, and then Gwil choked up his grip on the weapon and charged forward. Using the man¡¯s body a bit like a garden plow, he bowled through a few Podexians.


    That game ended when two enemies rammed into him from the side. As Gwil staggered, he wrapped his arms around them and threw himself backwards, giggling as he suplexed them.


    However, the Podexians had recognized him as a terrible threat, and they saw that he was lying on the ground, vulnerable.


    Gwil flailed under a flurry of stomping boots. So many. Pain shot through his body when they struck his wounds. He wrestled to get free, but they pinned his limbs down, smashing him in the head over and over.


    Again, he felt that horrible sensation of the Nirva growing thin. Piddling, diluted embers dribbling through his veins. It drained away too fast. Too much damage. The voices went quiet.


    Blood sprayed. A lot of blood. And it splashed down onto him, so it couldn¡¯t have been his. The beating ended, but there were still feet everywhere. Lots of them were bare and blue.


    Cort stood over Gwil¡ªred, gleaming, and grinning. The prisoners had broken through and the Podexians had fallen back.


    Cort held out his hand. Gwil took it and stood, noting how his own arm looked like a pile of raw chicken.


    ¡°We¡¯re winning,¡± Cort said.


    And then that horrible whining sound returned. Gwil jumped up to see, though he already knew. The Podexians had fallen all the way back and the drill tank was working on extracting itself from its jam.


    Gwil put his hands on Cort¡¯s shoulders. ¡°I can stop it. Throw me.¡±


    Cort laced his fingers together and Gwil stepped up. At the same time Cort heaved, Gwil launched himself.


    He went twirling through the air, soaring over the enemies, crashing through a few aloft spears, and landed atop the drill tank.


    The Podexians, noticing his intrusion, began jabbing at Gwil with their spears, and trying to grab hold of his kicking legs. He crawled around to the front side of the vehicle so that the wall was behind him. The whirring drill protected him from another angle.


    He glimpsed Cort heading the swarm of surging prisoners. They were backing him up. If he couldn¡¯t stop the tank, they¡¯d be butchered. Aww, Gwil thought. Cort really trusts me.


    The hatch on the roof of the tank appeared to open with some sort of spinning wheel on its top. Gwil tugged at it with all his might, but it wouldn¡¯t budge.


    He began pounding his fists on it. The sounds of impact were dull for the thickness of the metal. He tried the wheel again from a different angle and then rammed his fingers into the infinitesimally narrow seal of the hatch.


    A spear impaled his foot. Not my new boots! Gwil kept ramming his fingers into the seal, pushing until they were pulped. His finger bones were being ground down into little bits. Slivers of his flesh got stuck in the seal.


    That was something. He had to get through. He started using his head to ram against the seal. Whether he was trying to rip it open or force his way through, Gwil wasn¡¯t sure.


    He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, screeching like a demon as he spent everything he had. He saw stars. The screaming voices went wild.


    Parts of his hands had made it through, but some damnable instinct of self-preservation prevented him from forcing his skull through.


    Some irrelevant part of him knew¡ªthis was delusion. Nothing but lunatic determination. Yalda¡¯blood bloomed through his darkened vision. It smothered him. The whole World was crushing him. Pins and needles, stabbing everywhere.


    Through all the screaming, a single small voice whispered in his mind. His limbs, everything¡­ deflating.


    Pop.


    Relief, sweet relief. Gwil gasped, felt his lungs balloon at a rush of air. But nothing hurt. He felt great. Shit, did I die?


    Someone was screaming in his ear. And something was jabbing into his chest.


    Gwil rubbed his eyes and then found that he was face to face with a masked man. A Podexian. He was the one doing the screaming, and Gwil screamed too.


    He was sitting in the man¡¯s lap. Gwil jumped back and smacked his head on something. The space was very cramped.


    The man began shoving Gwil and trying to hit him. Gwil untangled his arm, ripped the man¡¯s mask off, and then smacked him across the face. That stopped him.


    This place was tiny, and everything was shaking. The drill was still whining¡­


    ¡°Ahaha! How did I get in here?¡± Gwil laughed. ¡°I bet you pissed yourself when I appeared in your lap. Gross. Did you see what happened? Did I teleport? Or turn into string like a meat grinder?¡±


    The man stared, sputtering.


    ¡°Do I look normal?¡± Gwil asked.


    Wide-eyed, the man raised his hand and touched his own forehead. Gwil mirrored him and felt a wet flap of flesh. He sort of pasted it back in place and said, ¡°That¡¯s nothing. So, you didn¡¯t see how I did it?¡±


    The man shook his head.


    ¡°Can you move over?¡± Gwil asked, shoving the man and trying to twist himself into a better position. ¡°There¡¯s not much space in here. Hey, how do you drive this thing?¡±


    The man continued sputtering.


    ¡°You¡¯re not helpful. Get out of the way.¡±


    Gwil reached above the man and unlocked the hatch, then threw it open. After some shifting around, he got his hands under the driver¡¯s arms. He flung the man up out of the hatch, then pulled it closed.


    Settling into the seat, Gwil looked at the mess of cranks and levers and foot pedals and dials and glowing red lights. He began hitting things at random and then craned his neck to see out the tiny sliver of a window.


    The tank lurched. The drill sputtered.


    He smacked the control panel with both hands. ¡°What the hell am I supposed to do?¡±

 Chapter Twenty – You Were Here!

    The controls made no sense! When Gwil tried to go left, the damn thing went right. When he wanted to go forward, it spun in circles. He shouldn¡¯t have thrown the driver out; he could''ve used the man''s help.


    Pressing the big red button labeled ¡®STOP¡¯ had turned off the actual drill, which, while disappointing, was for the best. Through the narrow windshield, he¡¯d glimpsed both Podexians and prisoners fleeing in terror, and it would¡¯ve been tragic if he drilled any prisoners after declaring that he¡¯d save every single one of them.


    It seemed like he¡¯d gotten stuck on the wall or something. No matter what he tried, the tank just lurched back and forth.


    Gwil sighed. He wasn¡¯t accomplishing anything. Full of shame, he threw open the hatch.


    Sticking his head out the top, Gwil found that cheering prisoners surrounded the tank. No Podexians in sight. And he was delighted to learn that he¡¯d driven the tank through the door, out into the tunnel that led to the mining cavern. It had gotten lodged sideways across the tunnel, but whatever. The thing was useless, anyway.


    The prisoners banged on the hull of the tank in celebration. Many of them were already pushing further up the tunnel. Gwil could hear Isca yelling up ahead.


    He climbed out onto the roof of the tank, looking around for Cort, only to find that the man stood right beside him.


    ¡°They retreated down the tunnel when you took the tank,¡± Cort said. ¡°We gotta push after ¡®em, but we have a second to breathe. Good job. But you¡¯re gonna let me drive that thing, cause that was¡­ abhorrent.¡±


    ¡°Good luck,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Hey, we¡¯re off to a good start.¡±


    ¡°Aye, the easy part¡¯s done. How the hell did you get inside the tank?¡±


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°I was gonna ask you that. You didn¡¯t see?¡±


    ¡°One second you were there, then you were gone. To be honest, I thought you got juiced by the drill. But then I realized it must have been you driving when the tank started¡­¡± He spun his finger in haphazard circles.


    Gwil cupped his hand to his ear. ¡°Do you hear that?¡±


    A chugging engine. Prisoners started fleeing back down the tunnel.


    ***


    Leira, Buzzard (still immobilized), Ansoir (still asleep), and Brock lumbered toward the madness at the end of the tunnel. They were coming up on the Podexians from behind.


    A minute ago, a host of guards had rushed past them, driving some bizarre-looking excavation machine that resembled a giant bear trap with churning spiked jaws. So determined was that crew that they paid no mind to the Talus wandering down the tunnel.


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit regrettable to unleash such devastating power upon my former allies,¡± Buzzard mused. ¡°But I do admit, I¡¯ve been devilishly curious about the full potential of my invention. Heehee.¡±


    ¡°Makes sense to me,¡± Leira said. ¡°You¡¯re a traitorous scumbag.¡±


    ¡°Is it really betrayal when I was only here to take advantage of Stondemaier¡¯s resources and negligence?¡± Buzzard said. ¡°In any case, I¡¯m merely¡­ nudging the needle. Those men are doomed. I am incapacitated. You have taken my weapon, and I have no power to stop you from using it. You already have checkmate in this engagement, so it¡¯s only logical that I help you.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Leira yelped. ¡°Couldn¡¯t this thing make all the Kaia explode?¡±


    ¡°I am a world-renowned authority on Kaia, you imbecile! Do you really think I would¡¯ve forgotten about that? The weapon¡¯s fuel is cut with Erithist. You could submerge yourself in a vat of Kaia and pull the trigger, and the Kaia wouldn¡¯t even spark. Don¡¯t question a scientist!¡±


    ¡°Huh? That shit deadens Kaia too?¡± Leira asked. She knew about Erithist¡¯s uses against Hallows, but she¡¯d never heard that before.


    ¡°Little known fact,¡± Buzzard squealed. ¡°The interaction is not so utterly domineering as it is with Nirva, but yes. And they like to keep it very quiet. Heehee.¡±


    ***


    There¡¯d been a lot of rumbling, shaking things during Gwil¡¯s time within the prison. But this sound was different. Shrill and visceral, like a knife slashing up the guts of the earth.


    ¡°GET BACK!¡± Cort screamed.


    The prisoners did not need to be told¡ªthey were already running for their lives.


    The terrifying machine came into view. Two pillars on the side, glowing with cords of Kaia. The thing between them was like a giant mouth.


    The jaws were smashing together like some rabid, spliced-up beaver, lined with teeth that were giant spiked balls. The thing was chewing through the tunnel and spitting debris.


    Cort grabbed Gwil and dragged him back. The prisoners poured back into the cavern that they¡¯d just fought their way out of. They¡¯d gone silent except for their buzzing breaths.


    Cort dumped Gwil on top of the tank and climbed down into the hatch. ¡°I¡¯m gonna crash into it. Do whatever you can. If I die, Isca¡¯s in charge.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Before Gwil could say anything, Cort slammed the hatch and fired up the engine.


    He could hear Cort yelling and swearing as he inched the tank forward and backward, forward and backward, maneuvering out of the jam that Gwil had left it in.


    The gnashing jaws drew closer, slow but relentless. The ceiling collapsed in the machine¡¯s wake. The ground shattered with the upheaval.


    The tank began rolling forward, straight into hell¡¯s own meat grinder. Gwil repositioned himself, crouching, ready¡­ to do what?


    The tank stood no chance. This thing would pulverize them. The jaws destroyed solid rock like a horse chomping on carrots.


    Gwil began prying at the tank¡¯s hatch again¡ªthe bastard had locked it. But this wasn¡¯t gonna work. He needed to get Cort out of there. They¡¯d try something else.


    But he couldn¡¯t force his way through. No time. Gwil slammed his fists against the hatch. His scream tore at his throat. Too slow. Always too slow.


    He stood and faced the machine. Five meters. He could see the driver positioned on a platform that rolled along behind the jaws. There was no space to go around. He had to jump through the jaws.


    Just before he leapt, an eruption of purple fire filled the tunnel.


    ***


    Leira cackled like a demon as she unleashed a storm of hellfire upon the Podexians.


    Standing atop the litter, she held that power in her hands. Spraying the weapon from side to side, as if watering a garden with a hose, she flooded the tunnel with destruction.


    Roaring, ravenous, purple fire, the shade of lavender. She wrote death. Traced endings. She knew not how many. That the scales could be tipped so easily. With just the strength in her finger. How terrifying.


    They did not scream. They did not get the chance to turn around and look at her. How many souls? A hundred?


    Gone. Lives reduced to ash in the blink of an eye.


    The river of fire engulfed the excavation machine. She saw the driver crumble into dust. The flames licked the exposed Kaia conduits¡­ and nothing. The machine¡¯s towers sagged, melting, as it sputtered to a halt.


    The flames died out quickly, as Buzzard had promised. The whooshing roar ceased. Her laughter filled the tunnel, ringing off the walls.


    Leira hiccupped into silence. A single sob racked her shoulders. She clenched her teeth against the next.


    ¡°It¡¯s so easy,¡± she muttered. ¡°So easy to be monstrous.¡±


    Beneath her, Buzzard stuck his head out of the litter and looked up at her. The effects of her spores had worn off for the doctor, but she had dosed Ansoir again to keep him unconscious.


    Knees shaking, Leira sat down.


    The doctor climbed up to join her, easily thanks to his lengthy arms. ¡°Your morals are too human. Everyone dies. We¡¯re all just living on borrowed time. What you did to them is nothing compared to the unavoidable eternity of suffering that awaits in the Hells. Heehee. And that was not such a bad way to go. Instant. No pain. No fear. No mess.¡±


    Buzzard sat down beside her. Leira nearly shoved him off. Instead, she threw the laser gun away. ¡°Why did you build that awful thing?¡±


    ¡°Guh,¡± Buzzard gulped as the gun clattered across the ground. ¡°Um, it was very expensive. But if anyone has the right to such power, it¡¯s you, Megrim Daughter.¡±


    Leira glared at him.


    ¡°Perhaps a history lesson is in order. These nuclear-powered weapons¡ªcolloquially referred to as laser or plasma weapons. In the Old World, they were the deadliest power that humanity possessed. Capable of causing transgenerational damage on a massive scale, both biologically and environmentally. The World revolved around them. Their destructive potential created a stalemate that lasted centuries.


    ¡°But not forever. These weapons were unleashed during the frenzied aftermath of the Apocalypse. Their radiation should be a deadly poison. But it is a part of us now. Hardly more dangerous than regular fire. We changed. How could such a change come to pass? Certainly not through natural evolution.¡±


    ¡°Get to the fuckin¡¯ point,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°The point is that our World is full of power that should not be. Unearned, stolen, profane. Kaia, Nirva, the divinities themselves. These forces cannot be avoided or eliminated. They will be wielded. Tools, nothing more, nothing less. It is the will of the bearers that matters.¡±


    Leira didn¡¯t know what to say to that hogwash. And then Brock collapsed. She and Buzzard were bucked off, sent rolling onto the ground. Ansoir had tumbled out of the litter to lie motionless beside them.


    The Talus lay on his stomach, slamming his fists against the ground like a child throwing a tantrum. That he had no voice with which to utter his despair made it worse.


    Leira clutched at the pang in her gut. ¡°Fucking hell.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Whaaaat is happening!¡± Gwil yelled.


    The purple fire was devouring everything.


    Cort had brought the tank to a halt.


    The giant jaws, blackened and melted, went still, slack like a dead animal.


    The unnatural flames dissipated. It had only lasted seconds. A raging inferno, blown out like a candle.


    Cort threw open the hatch and stuck his head out. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± he barked. ¡°Did you do that?¡±


    Gwil didn¡¯t answer. He squinted through the haze, a grin forming on his face as he climbed down from the tank and moved up the tunnel.


    ¡°Leira! Leira!¡±


    He started running.


    The fire had melted everything into fluffy ash, even the piles of fallen rock and a layer of the ground itself. It was like running through fresh snow, except that the soles of his boots were melting. Little purple tracks, embers, cut through the ash like veins.


    Leira turned. They leapt into each other¡¯s arms. Gwil started jumping up and down.


    ¡°I knew you¡¯d come! Cort, everyone! Get over here! I told you!¡±


    Leira was beaming. ¡°Fucking hell, Gwil, you made a mess of this. Nice!¡± Prisoners emerged from the tunnel, hesitation turning into excitement. ¡°Who are all those people? You¡¯re staging a whole prison break?¡±


    ¡°You saved us all!¡± Gwil yelled, swinging her arms around. ¡°I was sure we were all dead. And then whoooosh! You were here! Just in time.¡±


    Her expression quivered, but she turned it into a stilted laugh. Then she shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t even know how many I just killed. Look.¡± She gestured at the ashy field. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°Stop that. We¡¯re all only alive because of you. And you didn¡¯t have a choice.¡± He grabbed her shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re a hero, Leira. I bet not even Ashkana could¡¯ve done it.¡±


    She smiled at that. Then, looking over Gwil¡¯s shoulder to see the horde of ghoulish prisoners, she nodded. ¡°So, what¡¯s going on? We¡¯re really breaking everyone out?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Gwil said, grinning. ¡°Everyone. But that was always what I was gonna do. After we met that lady that you made cry -Sophia, I think¨C I thought this place needed changing. Leira, it sucks so bad here.¡±


    Leira blinked. ¡°Okay. But we need to hurry.¡±


    Gwil pulled Cort to the fore. ¡°Leira, this is Cort. He¡¯s tough and smart and hilarious.¡±


    Cort scowled. ¡°I thought he was bad. And then you show up spraying an atomic like it¡¯s a bottle of champagne. You did not disappoint.¡±


    ¡°Funny you say that,¡± Leira said. She started speaking very fast. ¡°And nice to meet you. But we gotta get going. Kaia. Leviathan. Gwil, this place is psychotic. I¡¯ve got the guy who hit you with his skimmer over there.¡± She gestured behind her. ¡°Ugh, and that cowboy bastard, don¡¯t even get me started.¡±


    ¡°Is that Doctor Buzzard?¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°I knew you weren¡¯t really a piece of shit, doc!¡±


    Buzzard waved at Gwil but stayed back where he was.


    ¡°Oooh! Leira!¡± Gwil ran to where Brock lay motionless on the ground. ¡°You made friends with the rock guy? That¡¯s so cool!¡±

 Chapter Twenty-One – Two Paths You Can Go By

    The prisoners were gathering themselves¡ªtreating injuries, picking up weapons, and looting the guards in the cavern¡ªthe that had not been vaporized. Cort and Isca were running all over the place, steering the proverbial ship.


    Further up the tunnel, Gwil nudged the Talus¡¯s motionless form with his foot. ¡°What¡¯s with it?¡±


    ¡°His name¡¯s Brock,¡± Leira said. ¡°I think he¡¯s sad ¡®cause¡­ well, evidently rocks are peaceful folk.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± Gwil said. He knelt beside the Talus¡¯s head. ¡°Hey Brock, get up. Do you remember me? I was gonna ask you something a few days ago.¡±


    Brock made no acknowledgement.


    ¡°I wanted to know if you¡¯ve ever been in the sea. ¡®Cause I figure you¡¯d sink and be able to walk around on the bottom, right? Maybe you¡¯re one of the only living things that can do that. I mean, besides fish and stuff.¡±


    ¡°He can¡¯t talk, Gwil,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Oh. But he understands, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Gwil began drumming on the Talus¡¯s body. ¡°Hey Brock, have you ever gone in the sea? You live right next to it.¡±


    Brock drew himself upright, moving like a sack of potatoes. He shook his head.


    ¡°Oh man, you gotta do it. I bet it¡¯d be amazing. Who knows what you¡¯d find down there?¡±


    ¡°Damn you for making me feel guilty, you stupid statue,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯m the one who pulled the trigger. All you did was watch.¡±


    Brock shook his head at Leira and then clattered over to the place where Ansoir lay.


    ¡°What the hell? Is he sleeping?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°Yeah, I knocked him out,¡± Leira said.


    Gwil laughed. ¡°Oh yeah, I forgot you can do that. Did you kidnap him?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, him and Doctor Dickhead. You met him?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± Gwil said. ¡°And he froze me up with some drug. Bad karma, doc.¡±


    ¡°You did not kidnap me!¡± Buzzard said. ¡°We are temporary allies. But yes, that bit of irony is not lost on me, and I assure you, it is bitter.¡±


    Buzzard looked at Gwil and adjusted his goggles. ¡°I had an inkling that you were a unique individual. Come to learn that you are in league with a Megrim Daughter¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°Who exactly are you?¡±


    ¡°A what? I¡¯m no one. My name¡¯s Gwil Oubliette.¡±


    Leira smacked him upside the head. ¡°Don¡¯t tell him that, Gwil. You don¡¯t need to answer his questions.¡±


    ¡°Huh? It¡¯s just my name.¡±


    ¡°I know, but there¡¯s something strange about you,¡± Leira said. ¡°Best keep quiet.¡±


    ¡°Oubliette?¡± Buzzard squeaked, stroking his chin. ¡°Like a dungeon? Heehee. Well, you two can relax. I¡¯ve never heard of such a surname. Of course, I will conduct research on its lineage, assuming I survive this appallingly ham-fisted prison break.¡±


    Gwil scuffed up some of the congealing laser gunk with his heel. It had turned into something like slushy snow. ¡°Damn. I was hoping one of the guards might turn into a Hallow,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Maybe they did, only to get melted right away,¡± Leira said, grimacing.


    ¡°Of course that didn¡¯t happen, fool,¡± Buzzard snapped. ¡°They¡¯re just a bunch of mindless goons. None of them possessed the necessary constitution. Hallows are rare.¡±


    Leira shoved Gwil out of the way and grabbed Buzzard by the collar. ¡°What¡¯d you know about Hallows?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a brilliant scientist,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°And that is one of the World¡¯s greatest mysteries. I have my theories, of course. Nothing concrete, but heehee. There¡¯s certainly a guiding hand. A will, if you will. There are no coincidences on this planet, young lady.


    ¡°All the chaos might look that way to we of simple minds, because it¡¯s a war of grand orchestrations. Note how I say ¡®we¡¯ and know that I would never disparage my own intellect lightly.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like you don¡¯t know,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Why are we still standing around here?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t patronize me,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°You reek of moronism. I simply don¡¯t know yet.¡±


    ¡°Let us know when you find out then, eh?¡± Leira said. ¡°Hey Gwil, did you get to see any robots?¡±


    ¡°Whaaat? No! Where?¡±


    ¡°They had some simple ones at the manor serving drinks.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll steal one while we escape,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Hey, is that guy cool?¡± He asked, pointing at Ansoir.


    ¡°No, he¡¯s extremely annoying and awful,¡± Leira said. ¡°That he ran you over with his skimmer wouldn¡¯t even make the list of his shitty characteristics.¡±


    Cort and Isca came running over as the prisoners began to march up the tunnel.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°Isca!¡± Gwil yelped, skipping over to them. ¡°Did anyone die?¡±


    She fixed him with her black-in-black eyes. ¡°No. No one.¡± She smiled¡ªher teeth looked so dirty against her chalk white skin. ¡°Keep it up, please. If you can.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s time to go,¡± Cort said. ¡°Seems like they locked things down.¡±


    ¡°We need to find the other shift,¡± Isca said. She shook her head. ¡°They could be in their mines, or their Sty.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We were supposed to get them right away, weren¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s obviously out the window,¡± Cort said. ¡°Also, a lot of the prisoners wanna kill you, Buzzard. Just so you know.¡±


    ¡°I am well aware of that, thank you,¡± Buzzard said, making himself look small.


    ¡°And you must be Leira,¡± Isca said. ¡°You burned all those motherfuckers. I¡¯m jealous.¡±


    Leira giggled and curtsied. ¡°I love your tattoos.¡±


    ¡°I wanna go up ahead,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Hey, is Brock fast?¡±


    ¡°He can be,¡± Leira said. ¡°Brock, are you done moping? You care about peace?¡± She pointed back at the prisoners. ¡°What they¡¯ve dealt with here is way worse than what I did. Do you have ears? Do you hear the way they breathe? And you¡¯ve been fucking watching it happen for how long? A decade? Get up.¡±


    Brock rolled over to them. He¡¯d placed Ansoir back inside the litter, and his posture was less dejected.


    ¡°We¡¯ve already talked about that, Gwil,¡± Isca said. ¡°You, Cort, and Leira are gonna go scout ahead. Clear the way and try to find the other shift. I will lead everyone else, and I promise we will all make it.¡±


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go!¡± Gwil said. He jumped up into the litter.


    ¡°Ahem!¡± Buzzard wheezed. ¡°I will be coming with you as well, so I don¡¯t get killed.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you, Buzzard,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Just toss the doc in the back with Ansoir,¡± Leira said. ¡°We¡¯ll all squeeze in.¡±


    A small voice called down the tunnel. ¡°Hello? Um. Hello?¡±. The prisoners stirred. The man put his hands up and cowered.


    ¡°Dwillard!¡± Gwil yelled. He jumped down from the Talus and ran down the tunnel, flailing his arms as a group of prisoners started bearing down on the lone Podexian guard. ¡°Wait! Don¡¯t attack him. He¡¯s with us.¡±


    The prisoners listened, but they did not look happy. Gwil pushed his way through and made it to Dwillard. He grabbed the man¡¯s wrist and started dragging him through jeers and spit back up the tunnel.


    ¡°T-thank you,¡± Dwillard said. ¡°I don¡¯t deserve this.¡±


    ¡°Eh, no one deserves anything,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Ah, this is perfect,¡± Doctor Buzzard said when Gwil and Dwillard returned to the group. ¡°Dwillard, was it? Since you and I are both turncoats, I am still your superior. And you get a promotion. You are now my personal assistant. That makes you Assistant to the Chief Scientist, Assistant to the-¡±


    Cort picked Buzzard up and threw him into the litter.


    ¡°I¡¯m riding on the roof. You all have fun in there,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Oo, me too,¡± Gwil said, climbing up after him.


    Leira and the others got into the litter, and Leira said, ¡°Okay, Brock, go! Fast as you can.¡±


    ¡°Keep safe, Isca,¡± Cort called back.


    The extra weight proved no issue for the Talus as he went tearing down the tunnel.


    Gwil sat, legs dangling, entranced by the healing process of his hand. The skin was reforming, a maddening pattern of impossible growth. It was pale and translucent, much as Leira had been when Gwil first found her.


    He could feel the Nirva flowing there. He focused on it, directing more of it into his hand. It was like a reflex, a bit like making himself pee, except in his arm. His hand grew hotter, and the healing sped up. That could be useful.


    They reached a four-way intersection, where Brock began spinning in circles of indecision.


    ¡°Left here,¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°No!¡± Cort leaned over the edge to look down into the litter. ¡°We need to go right.¡±


    ¡°Idiot. Left is faster. I have lived here for thirty years. I helped design this facility! Talus, do not listen to that fool.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s right,¡± Cort growled, swinging a fist at Buzzard. ¡°We can¡¯t trust this piece of shit.¡±


    ¡°I think it might be right,¡± Dwillard whispered.


    ¡°Traitor!¡± Buzzard hissed. ¡°You¡¯re demoted.¡±


    ¡°Just go straight, Brock!¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Straight?¡±


    ¡°Fucking hell! Shut up!¡± Leira screeched. ¡°We don¡¯t actually know where these other prisoners are. What are you even arguing about? You¡¯re probably both wrong.¡±


    Brock flopped down on the ground.


    ¡°Fine! I need to get to my laboratory,¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°See?¡± Cort said. ¡°Bastard!¡±


    Buzzard continued. ¡°My invaluable, world-altering research must be salvaged. Its destruction would be an unforgiveable crime against humanity.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you, Buzzard,¡± Cort said.


    The doctor scrambled out of the Talus and prostrated himself in front of them. ¡°Please. It is more precious to me than my life. I¡¯d rather die than see it destroyed. I have things! Tools that could aid you in this escape. Please.¡±


    Gwil jumped down and lifted Buzzard up by the collar. ¡°I¡¯ll go with the doctor, and we¡¯ll meet back up.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Cort said. ¡°There¡¯s gonna be a fight. We need you, Gwil. Fuck Doctor Buzzard.¡±


    Gwil waved him off. ¡°You and Leira can handle them.¡±


    ¡°We can?¡± Leira said. ¡°Yeah, alright.¡± She turned to Cort. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry your big-ass head off. I¡¯ll take care of everything.¡±


    ¡°Come along, assistant,¡± Buzzard said. Dwillard clambered down.


    ¡°See you in a bit,¡± Gwil said.


    He, Buzzard, and Dwillard set out down the left path, while the others went right.


    ***


    Cort swung down to sit in the chair inside the litter. ¡°Don¡¯t use that laser gun again,¡± he said to Leira. ¡°You nearly melted all of us, and we don¡¯t know what the situation is gonna be.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even have it with me,¡± Leira said. ¡°And what do you mean, nearly? You two were about to let everyone get devoured. Why¡¯d you let them bring that machine down there? You should¡¯ve known better.¡±


    ¡°I should know better? You know nothing about me, and you don¡¯t know what happened.¡±


    ¡°So, I¡¯ve overestimated your capabilities? Sorry, won¡¯t happen again,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Argh!¡±


    ¡°Calm down,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯ll free those other prisoners. You don¡¯t even need to lift a finger. Why don¡¯t you take a nap? You seem grouchy.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it,¡± Cort muttered. ¡°I can¡¯t believe that you¡¯re worse than him. Where do you two get off having this absurd, lunatic confidence?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t speak for Gwil,¡± Leira said. ¡°But I get it from experience.¡±


    ¡°Shh! I need to listen,¡± Cort said. ¡°Stop moving, rock!¡±


    They sat in another intersection. Leira waited a beat and said, ¡°You¡¯re not deaf. It¡¯s silent.¡±


    ¡°The other group does their mining down there,¡± Cort said. ¡°They¡¯re not here. They must be holed up in their Sty. That¡¯s better for us. No blast door, hopefully no crazy machines.


    ¡°Left here, then the next right, rock,¡± Cort said, sagging down in his chair and tilting his head back.


    Brock rolled along down the path. This tunnel was the same as all the others¡ªbare rough, rock. Dripping wet. Littered with scraps and gravel.


    ¡°Wh¨Cwhat¡¯s going on?¡± A dull voice said from behind. ¡°Where am I?¡±


    ¡°Oh no,¡± Leira muttered.


    ¡°Oh my god!¡± Ansoir squealed. ¡°I¡¯ve been kidnapped.¡±


    Cort whipped around and glared down at the crumpled, screeching lord.


    ¡°I¡¯ll handle this,¡± Leira said. ¡°Hey Ansoir, you fell asleep.¡±


    ¡°Lady Leira!¡±


    ¡°Lady?¡± Cort scoffed.


    ¡°Bitch! Guards! Guards!¡±


    ¡°Do something,¡± Cort snapped. ¡°Make him shut up.¡±


    ¡°Guards! Your lord is in danger! Save me! Brock! Father! Sheriff Jackson! Anyone!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not worth putting him back to sleep,¡± Leira said. ¡°I need to save my spores.¡±


    ¡°What? I¡¯ll just choke him out then,¡± Cort said, turning around.


    A massive stone hand reached in and grabbed Cort, then dropped him on the floor.


    Leira burst out laughing. ¡°Stop, Brock, stop. He was only joking. We¡¯re gonna help, Ansoir, I promise. I won¡¯t let him get hurt. We¡¯ll make things better for him.¡±


    ¡°Brock! Don¡¯t you dare! You fucking traitor. Brock!¡±


    The Talus again fell over in abject despair.

 Chapter Twenty-Two - Choices

    ¡°Here¡¯s the deal, Ansoir,¡± Leira said. ¡°You¡¯re just about the biggest piece of shit I¡¯ve ever met. Trust me, I¡¯ve encountered some wretched motherfuckers. But they at least had the strength to back it up. They were capable. Powerful. You¡¯re worthless and scummy. Weak and whiny. Every word that comes out of your mouth is like a nail being hammered into my skull. Every time you speak, I feel stupider and more hateful at the World for bringing you into existence.¡±


    Ansoir opened his mouth, but no sound came out. She might as well have slapped him across the face. She sure wanted to.


    ¡°Can we not have a fucking council meeting in the middle of our prison break?¡± Cort grumbled as he paced back and forth.


    That was exactly what they were doing. Leira, Ansoir, and Brock sat in a circle in the middle of the tunnel. The Talus refused to carry them further. Leira was about to leave them behind. But¡­ dammit.


    Myriad expressions twisted across Ansoir¡¯s face. He leaned forward on his hands, as if about to vomit.


    ¡°Lady Leira. I¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say. It was all a lie?¡±


    ¡°Of course it was a fucking lie,¡± she spat. ¡°You ran my friend over with your gaudy-ass skimmer and then gave him a death sentence for it. I saw the accident. He was being nice to you afterwards, and that was how you answered. If it wasn¡¯t for Brock, I would¡¯ve already cut your head off.¡±


    ¡°Brock?¡± Ansoir said. ¡°I could order him to crush you right now, woman.¡± But his voice was reed thin.


    ¡°You sure about that?¡± Cort said, stopping his pacing to loom over the little lord.


    ¡°Cort, please,¡± Leira said. ¡°Stop trying to hold on to this farce, Ansoir. It makes you look even more pathetic.


    ¡°Brock would refuse you. He¡¯s your silent slave, and your only friend in the World. A fucking pile of rocks and he¡¯s got more humanity than you. Do you know why he¡¯s not protecting you from me? He wants to help you. He¡¯s the only person in the World that gives a damn about you.¡±


    Leira shook her head. ¡°You must be one of the luckiest people in the World. Born rich, never had to fear for your life, never wanted for something that you needed. And you just piss all over everyone and everything. But here I am, giving you another fucking chance. Even though I don¡¯t think you deserve to live. Because I feel bad for that walking rock-person who cares about you so much even though you treat him like shit.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s gonna happen next, but you get a choice. Because I decided to keep you alive. You can stay here, sitting on the ground like the crusty turd that you are, or you can learn to be a decent fucking person, and try to scrub away the stain that you¡¯ve left on the World. If someone like you can change, maybe I¡¯d get a fucking sliver of hope out of it.¡±


    Cort gave a few slow claps.


    ¡°Lady Leira, I-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m no fuckin¡¯ lady,¡± Leira said.


    Ansoir cupped his face and started hyperventilating. ¡°You filthy slaves are destroying my birthright!¡± he squealed through clenched teeth.


    Leira stood up. ¡°Yes. You will lose everything. Welcome to the club.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to die,¡± Ansoir wailed. ¡°You won¡¯t survive this, you witless ingrates! Sheriff Jackson will kill you all, and I¡¯ll be stuck with you.¡±


    The lotus petals swayed, tickling her cheek. ¡°Gwil and I won¡¯t be stopped in your wretched little kingdom. One day, the World will turn upon our shoulders. This place is nothing.¡±


    Cort doubled over, raking his fingers through his tomato-red hair. ¡°I¡¯m surrounded by madmen,¡± he groaned. ¡°Can we hurry it up?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m done. Let¡¯s go,¡± Leira said.


    Skittering gravel. Cort pushed past her.


    Ansoir lay flat on his back like a starfish, blood pouring from a crumpled nose. A dagger lay on the ground beside his hand.


    ¡°Did he just try to stab me?¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cort said, wiping his bloodied hand off on his dirty jumpsuit.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± she said. ¡°Rotten to the core, I guess.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t, I can¡¯t, I can¡¯t!¡± Ansoir screamed. He was on all fours, pounding his fists against the ground. ¡°I can¡¯t let you ruin everything! This is my legacy! Please. Perhaps I could be a little less cruel to the slaves, but¡­¡± His pleading turned into unintelligible sobbing, a spoiled child receiving their first punishment.


    Brock bopped Ansoir on the head with a flick of his stone finger. The little lord went unconscious. As Ansoir crumbled, Brock caught him with his other hand and placed him back in the litter.


    Then he knelt and motioned for Cort and Leira to climb back in.


    ¡°I think you¡¯re wasting your time, Brock, but thanks,¡± Leira said as she pulled herself up into the litter.


    ¡°Fucking dramatic bullshit,¡± Cort muttered as he followed her up. ¡°Can we please just go already?¡±


    Brock started moving back up the tunnel, Kaia smog spewing from his engine. He lumbered along like a moping dog.


    ¡°Faster!¡± Cort barked.


    The Talus hurried up.


    ***


    ¡°Do you build robots?¡± Gwil asked.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Artificial neurological systems aren¡¯t my area of expertise,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°The Holy Leviathan imports them to us, but Jaqlov only has approval for the lowest level chips. Servant-class, for menial tasks.¡±


    As the trio moved through the mines, Gwil recognized where they were from when he was first brought in. Buzzard¡¯s lab was not too far from the entrance. Maybe he could go out and try to clear the way for everyone.


    ¡°If you¡¯re so smart, you¡¯d build robots,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I know how to assemble them,¡± Buzzard snapped. ¡°I just don¡¯t design the mind chips. Creating artificial life is a waste of time. Unambitious. There are plenty of humans, after all. Heehee.¡±


    ¡°So, you don¡¯t know how to make the brain,¡± Gwil said. ¡°That¡¯s the most important part.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I dunno if assembling them counts,¡± Dwillard chimed in. ¡°I reckon even I could do that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a brain,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°If either of you possessed a modicum of one, you would know that.¡± He blew a raspberry. ¡°Turn here.¡±


    Buzzard led them down a small tunnel that was more like a crack in the wall. It was narrow enough that they had to walk single file.


    Now that he was behind Buzzard, Gwil noticed a bulky object bulging out beneath the doctor¡¯s lab coat. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s that in your shirt?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm?¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Oh, this?¡± He extracted a long, chrome object. The laser gun. ¡°I picked it up after the Megrim Daughter so rudely discarded it.¡±


    ¡°Her name¡¯s Leira,¡± Gwil said. ¡°And I dunno if I should be trusting you with a weapon.¡±


    Buzzard turned¡ªwith some difficulty due to the tight space¡ªto face Gwil. He held out the weapon. ¡°Take it then. But if I may posit an argument.


    ¡°I value my own survival above all else. I¡¯ve thrown my lot in with you and your divine friend. That means it¡¯s advantageous for me to help you. I will be better able to help you if I am armed. Therefore, it benefits you to let me keep the weapon.¡±


    ¡°Makes sense to me,¡± Gwil said.


    Buzzard stared at him, adjusting his goggles, and then proceeded down the passage. When it narrowed to where they had to turn sideways, Buzzard stopped and began feeling around the surface of the wall. His hand disappeared into a cranny.


    With a metallic clang, a door made of false rock opened to reveal another dark passage with small lights on the floor.


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°No one in Podexia knows about these secret passages except for me,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°During an expansion of the mines, I commissioned a network of secret tunnels. Then I, heehee, disposed of everyone who was involved. I always plan for every eventuality.¡±


    ¡°Oh gosh,¡± Dwillard said. ¡°I think my cousin¡¯s cousin was working that job! No one ever saw him again.¡±


    ¡°This is so cool,¡± Gwil said as they went deeper. He had to hunch over to fit, but Buzzard¡¯s short height was perfectly accommodated. Dwillard had to crawl.


    ¡°I concur,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°And thanks to you, it proved necessary. These sorts of things are often built out of deluded vanity. But I¡¯ve always expected Podexia to crumble eventually, so I¡¯ve been prepared to abandon ship.


    ¡°Stondemaier, the poor soul never recovered from the death of his wife. The loss turned him completely erratic. I mean, gods, have you seen his skin? They don¡¯t make an ointment for that. And Sheriff Jackson was there to swoop in like a vulture, which I predicted, I should add.


    ¡°That imbecilic buckaroo is a brute unfit to manage a hot dog cart. He¡¯s even been skimming Kaia from the Leviathan. They¡¯d have killed all of us once they noticed, so perhaps this is for the best.¡±


    Dwillard gasped. ¡°A-are you serious?¡±


    Gwil laughed. ¡°I¡¯m gonna beat the shit out of that guy.¡±


    ¡°Are you?¡± Buzzard said, looking over his shoulder. ¡°He¡¯s quite formidable, and he defeated you quite easily the first time you encountered each other. But I believe you can do it. I would very much enjoy seeing the sheriff lose everything to a bunch of slaves, a scrappy Hallow, and a Megrim Daughter.¡±


    ¡°Why is everyone here so dumb?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°Assuming you mean everyone except for me, which you obviously must, well, I wish I knew. I ask myself that every day.¡±


    ¡°This place is really nice,¡± Gwil said. ¡°The sea, the mountains. You built something amazing. But you¡¯re all so ugly. And you act like animals. Nothing matters except your appetite. But not even animals are so cruel to their own. You¡¯re something lower.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re na?ve,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Ignorant to what drives this World. The strong conquer, and they care nothing for childish ideals.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s strong about being awful and stealing everything?¡±


    ¡°You might be Hallowed, but you¡¯re a peasant at heart,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Stondemaier. Jackson. Maybe you will crush them. That¡¯s all well and good. They are parasites. But what do you know of real power? What do you know of the Leviathan¡¯s Monarchs? The Eschatologists? The Manifest Deities?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re all the same to me,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But you go on making excuses for assholes if you want.¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s secret labyrinth was impressive, full of twists and turns. It seemed like it spanned the entire complex.


    Gwil grabbed Buzzard¡¯s shoulder and wrenched him around. ¡°Wait! Can you get out of the mines through here?¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°Of course you can! What kind of secret tunnel system wouldn¡¯t have a way to actually escape?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t we just sneak everyone out through here? Does it go to the other side of the wall?¡±


    ¡°There is an exit beyond the wall, but, heehee, I think it would be inadvisable. Some two hundred packed into this narrow corridor. It¡¯d take ages to get everyone through, and once the first escapee is spotted, they¡¯d torch the tunnel. The death toll would be catastrophic, even if a few did manage to escape.¡±


    ¡°Damn,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But the three of us could go that way.¡±


    ¡°We absolutely could. To be honest, I was going to ditch you and do that myself. But if you want to come along, you are more than welcome. You didn¡¯t strike me as someone who¡¯d be willing to abandon their cause.¡±


    ¡°Nuh-uh,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Do you think the sheriff is there?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°He has billions of doubloons hanging in the balance. I expect he¡¯s pacing back and forth atop the wall as we speak. Waiting.¡±


    ¡°Good. I¡¯m gonna sneak up and beat his ass before he can get those ropes on me.¡±


    ¡°Are you insane? Heeheehee! You¡¯re just going to walk out there on your own?¡±


    ¡°You said you thought I could beat him,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I did, and I was under the assumption that you¡¯d be rushing him with two hundred people you could use as fodder. And that you¡¯d have the Megrim Daughter with you.¡±


    ¡°Well, I won¡¯t be alone,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You guys are coming with me. Use one of your laser guns or something.¡±


    Buzzard had some sort of attack. He huffed for breath and smacked his hands against puffed up cheeks. It lasted for an entire minute.


    ¡°I beg you not to do this. It is suicidal. And murderous, if you force me to accompany you. Sheriff Jackson is a warrior. A stone-cold killer. He will rip you into little pieces. The only chance for you slaves is to storm the wall and run like hell. Most of you will die, but a few might be lucky enough to stumble through the rampant butchery and survive.¡±


    ¡°I promised that not a single slave would die,¡± Gwil said.


    Buzzard fell over.


    ¡°And that cowboy is nothing special,¡± Gwil said, trying to help the doctor back to his feet as the man flailed. ¡°I¡¯ve met a real Hallow before, and Jackson doesn¡¯t compare.¡±


    ¡°I refuse. I refuse to accompany you,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°It¡¯s the same as if you killed me right here, right now.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t get a choice,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯ve been an asshole. Time to make up for it.¡±


    Dwillard thumped a fist against his chest. ¡°I will come with you, Gwil.¡±


    ¡°He already beat you with ease, you imbecile,¡± Buzzard hissed. ¡°Heehee. You¡¯ve only been Hallowed for a short time. Have you even begun to master your Invoke?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Gwil said, nodding. ¡°And it¡¯s hugely powerful.¡±

 Chapter Twenty-Three – Sweet Dreams

    Buzzard sighed with relief as he keyed in a code. ¡°Finally. Back in my sanctuary.¡±


    The door slid open to reveal the lab.


    ¡°Oh, shit!¡±


    A dozen Podexian guards were staring at them. They were huddled on the floor with a big pile of rations between them. A few empty bottles of booze rolled around.


    They¡¯d ransacked the place¡ªall manner of scientific equipment had been toppled and tossed. Shattered glass was scattered everywhere


    Gwil plucked the laser gun out of Buzzard¡¯s hands as the doctor drew it from the back of his shirt.


    Buzzard lifted his goggles onto his forehead and scurried forward as both Gwil and Dwillard tried to hold him back by the tail of his lab coat.


    ¡°You rancid, fucking ingrate heathen shitbitches! I¡¯ll melt your flesh with acid and make you drink the juice!¡±


    Uproar broke out among the guards as they all jumped to their feet, taking up their spears.


    One guard stepped forward with his arms out to block his companions.


    ¡°Easy now, doc,¡± the man said. ¡°It¡¯s all gone tits up.¡±


    ¡°Buzzard¡¯s a traitor!¡± another guard said. ¡°That¡¯s that Hallowed prisoner with him.¡±


    ¡°Is that Dwillard? Fuck you, Dwillard!¡±


    The guard who¡¯d taken the lead said, ¡°Dwillard, weren¡¯t you down in the mines? What¡¯s going on? What happened with the BearTrap-JawMaster 5000?¡±


    Dwillard sputtered.


    ¡°Those guys are all dead,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°WHAAAT!¡± yelled the chorus.


    ¡°Are the prisoners alive?¡±


    ¡°That was damn near all our forces!¡±


    The man who¡¯d said that. His tongue.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Gwil said, stepping toward the guards, which caused them to raise their weapons. Gwil stopped and pointed at the frogman. ¡°Why¡¯d you get such a long tongue?¡±


    The man grinned, let his tongue unroll to the floor, and made it do a wiggly dance. ¡°It¡¯s all about surface area,¡± the man said with a ¡®bleh¡¯ in his voice.


    Gwil laughed. ¡°When I saw that earlier, it made me get my hand cut off.¡±


    ¡°It tends to have that effect,¡± the man said as he slurped the tongue back into his mouth.


    Buzzard shoved past Gwil. ¡°My initial outrage has subsided. As punishment for your crimes, you all have become my direct subordinates. Congratulations on your promotions.¡±


    Dwillard gave the group two thumbs up and a big smile.


    ¡°Weapons down, please,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°We all have work to do.¡±


    Laughter broke out among the guards, and they sat back down and returned to their makeshift feast.


    ¡°Sorry, doc, but we ain¡¯t doin¡¯ shit. Jackson locked us up in the prison. Trapped us and left us to die.¡±


    ¡°Oh gosh,¡± Dwillard murmured.


    ¡°We¡¯re enjoying a brief retirement before we die,¡± a burly woman said to cheers and clinking beer bottles.


    ¡°Why¡¯ve you got that slave with you, doc?¡±


    Buzzard cleared his throat. ¡°Well, you see, after I learned that Jackson betrayed his own men, I decided I couldn¡¯t stand it anymore. I changed sides.¡±


    That brought about some approving muttering, during which Dwillard made to speak and had his toe stomped on by Buzzard.


    ¡°Now, when you say that Jackson locked us in, what exactly do you mean by ¡®locked¡¯?¡± Buzzard said, adjusting his goggles. ¡°Why can¡¯t you just go to the control room and open the damned door?¡±


    ¡°Open the door he says.¡± The guards laughed.


    ¡°The smartest man in Podexia, folks,¡± the woman said, drawing more cheers.


    ¡°You long-armed fuck,¡± a man barked as he got to their feet. ¡°I¡¯ve been in charge of opening and closing that door for five years. No shit, we tried that already. There¡¯s an override or something.¡±


    ¡°Least we¡¯re ridin¡¯ it out with booze and smoked jerky!¡±


    Gwil laughed.


    ¡°Override?¡± Buzzard said. ¡°The system does not have an override. Do you even know what that means?¡±


    ¡°Check for yourself then, doc,¡± the doorman said.


    After muttering to himself for a bit, Buzzard snapped his fingers. ¡°Jackson, that devious, paranoid bastard. He must have installed it without my knowledge. A failsafe.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Gwil said. ¡°You called him stupid earlier, and he tricked you.¡±


    ¡°He did not trick me,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°My escape tunnel preemptively countered his counter years before he even developed it.¡±


    Frenzy took the guards. ¡°What¡¯s this about an escape tunnel?¡±


    ¡°Hey nice,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We can all team up. We¡¯re on our way to fight Jackson.¡±


    ¡°Piss off, slave,¡± one guard said.


    ¡°Shh!¡± Buzzard hissed as he continued muttering to himself. ¡°Mmkay, yes, this is ideal. I needed pack-mules, anyway. All of you are welcome to accompany myself and my assistant and this Hallowed slave into my secret tunnel, through which we can escape beyond the wall.¡±


    A few of the guards closed in around Buzzard. ¡°How about we just cut your head off and use your tunnel ourselves?¡±


    One man reached for Buzzard and Gwil punched him in the sternum. He went flying back, crashing into a shelf whereupon he was buried beneath scientific paraphernalia.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We all wanna get out. They think we¡¯re all dirt. Don¡¯t step on each other.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Buzzard hissed. ¡°This man will kill you all if you don¡¯t obey. He¡¯s more dangerous than Jackson.¡±


    ¡°No, I won¡¯t,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Fightin¡¯ the sheriff? That¡¯s the same as dyin¡¯ and we¡¯d rather die here with our booze and our jerky!¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Booze and jerky!¡± came an answering cheer.


    ¡°Slothful troglodytes!¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°You guys don¡¯t have to fight Jackson,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°They most certainly do,¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°Nah,¡± Gwil said. He moved toward the guards, who backed up while waving their spears at him. ¡°When we get out, you guys can run for it if you want. I don¡¯t care. Just don¡¯t wait here to die for no reason.¡±


    An animated discussion broke out among the guards.


    ¡°What?¡± Buzzard said, turning on Gwil with his long arms waving over his head. ¡°You didn¡¯t give me that choice!¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re worse than them.¡±


    The guard who had been speaking for the group the most said, ¡°Alright. We¡¯re coming with you, but we ain¡¯t fighting.¡±


    ¡°Cool,¡± Gwil said.


    Buzzard tugged at Gwil¡¯s elbow. ¡°At least make them carry my stuff.¡±


    ¡°Alright yeah, you gotta help carry his stuff,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Ooh, doc, do you have any more laser guns?¡±


    ¡°Do you have any idea how rare and expensive atomic precursors are? I¡¯m not made of money! But I do have some other toys, of course.¡±


    Buzzard began issuing erratic instructions in a demented manner. Gwil and the guards started packing up the things he deemed most important. He acted as if he were being forced to choose between his children.


    As they finished up, Buzzard pulled Gwil aside. ¡°Do you understand the ramifications of the door being locked? There is no way out. In order for your enslaved cohorts to escape, you will have to open the door from the outside. You will have to get past the sheriff.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I wanted to do anyway,¡± Gwil said.


    ***


    Standing at the gate of this so-called Sty, Leira could hear the prisoners inside. Hushed and wheezing.


    She jumped out of the litter and looked up at Brock. ¡°Time for you to show some mettle. Bust it down.¡±


    Cort climbed down to stand beside her. The gate was a flimsy thing, designed not for defense, but to corral the weary and weakened. Brock could blast it off its hinges with a single blow.


    Still, Leira was surprised to see the Talus drawing his fist back.


    ¡°Stop! Who goes there?¡± blared an amplified voice from within.


    Brock froze. Cort and Leira looked at each other like two startled rodents.


    Boots scrabbling against stone. Grunts and hushed whispers. And the cacophonous buzzing of poisoned lungs. The sound sent a chill down Leira¡¯s spine.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Cort mouthed.


    She glimpsed a pair of feet beneath the gate. ¡°Two escaped slaves and a Talus,¡± the voice called.


    ¡°Turn back if you value their lives, you filthy animals. We have our spears against their throats. We¡¯ll butcher them all if you so much as touch that gate.¡±


    The lotus petals stirred. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Leira whispered. She waved Brock back and then crept toward the gate.


    Cort grabbed her wrist. ¡°Are you insane? You might not care about them, but I do.¡±


    ¡°No one will die,¡± she sang softly. The petals grew so that they draped over her face like a mask.


    The stone walls, the air itself¡ªeverything turned gossamer as its substance drained. The World before their eyes, as thin as cobwebs.


    Cort¡¯s hand fell away from her wrist.


    Leira cracked her knuckles. ¡°It¡¯s been a while,¡± she breathed, shuddering. Pure bliss radiated through her body. Overwhelming intensity, to the point of pain. It hurt, knowing that such a feeling exists but cannot last.


    Plumes of crimson mist tumbled from her eye, piling up like clouds on the ground before flowing under the gate.


    The Sty fell quiet. The ragged breathing slowed to shallow dribbles. Brock fell over, landing with a crash that should¡¯ve been deafening but was rendered as a dull thump. Even a conjured mind existed under the purview of Megrim.


    Leira stumbled to the gate. She felt so heavy. She did not want to move, to risk disturbing this bleeding euphoria. The flower¡¯s growth blocked her mortal eye, but she did not need to see that mundane composition, for she scried the World to its very heart.


    She let herself fall. Her knees landed hard on the slick stone ground. Limp, she flopped forward onto her stomach, her cheek pressing against the wet grit.


    She saw them all. Skeletons. Ghouls. Men and women. Wreathed in the Megrim flower¡¯s essence. Every eye was trained upon her, blank and witless, like infants. Enthralled. As small as insects.


    The crimson essence flooded the cavern, rising like a tide.


    Her vision went deeper. Beneath the veil. The heap of prisoners, a misshapen mass. The Kaia stained their bodies with blinding radiance. An affront. Something invasive.


    Two castes. The prisoners and the guards. The exploited and the perpetrators. The guards were dark blotches against the light of the Kaia-afflicted.


    ¡°Sweet dreams, fuckers,¡± Leira rasped.


    The spores climbed the legs of the Podexian guards, like ants swarming a piece of food. Crimson smothered their bodies. And then red decayed into mottled black. Weak and worthless hands grasped at masked faces.


    The spores fell away, evaporating like rainwater.


    The guards collapsed. Their bodies were ruined¡ªstiff, withered, skeletal. Their flesh had become something like a mix of treebark and tar.


    So much¡ªeverything¡ªwas ripped away from her. Bile dripped from Leira¡¯s parted lips. Flowers fell from the branches of a great tree, fleeing the vengeful divinity of Mother.


    Our monster, as savage as all the others.


    ¡°Mother, can you hear me? Don¡¯t let Anesidyra take me again. Please.¡±


    Leira sputtered, spitting the crust of dust from her lips. She grimaced as she sat up, then brushed her hands off and stood.


    She went to Cort, nudged him with her foot. His eyes sprang open. He ignored her hand and jumped to his feet.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°I told you I would take care of everything,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°But¨C Is? The guards?¡± he said, gasping.


    Leira gestured toward the gate as excited muttering bubbled up on the other side.


    ¡°Brock,¡± Leira said. The Talus rolled himself up right. Ansoir¡¯s unconscious flopped to the other side of the litter. ¡°Go ahead, bust that shit down.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Cort said. ¡°How?¡±


    Inside the Sty, they were hooting and hollering, stomping around.


    Cort smiled at the same time he palmed his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut and said, ¡°I saw¡­¡±


    ¡°The World¡¯s a big place,¡± Leira said. ¡°You¡¯ll hurt yourself if you think about it too much.¡±


    She turned her back on Cort and started plucking off the overgrown petals. Even as they fell, they withered into dust.


    With one mighty blow, Brock demolished the gate. The prisoners had backed away from the rotten, desiccated corpses, leaving them isolated and exposed in empty pockets.


    Leira knew those men were not dead. However, they would never wake. She would never relinquish them. There existed other hells besides the Nine. Mother possessed one of her own.


    ¡°Incredible,¡± Cort breathed.


    ¡°See? Don¡¯t be so difficult next time,¡± Leira said.


    Cort scoffed. ¡°Excuse me for not considering that you¡­¡± Words failed him, so he waved his hand in the direction of the Sty.


    ¡°Nice one, Brock. Thanks,¡± Leira said.


    They crossed the threshold as the prisoners ran toward them, toward the open gate. Leira smiled. How nice it must¡¯ve been to receive something you¡¯d never dared hope for.


    Her jaw clenched up. She didn¡¯t know how many she¡¯d killed with Buzzard¡¯s laser gun. A lot. So, what¡¯s a few more? These slaves would get their lives back¡ªher debt was paid.


    Well. At least I didn¡¯t need to conduct a Full Blooming.


    ***


    Isca and her comrades had reached the front door of the prison. They¡¯d met no opposition. They¡¯d not even heard any fighting. The Podexian forces were waiting for them outside, then.


    She faced away from the door¡ªit was not for her. She would not pass through.


    Instead, she looked down the tunnel, praying for Gwil and Cort to appear out of the gloom with the other shift in tow.


    Isca stood in the middle of the pack. These were her people. For the past two years, her life intertwined with these fragile souls. So many faces come and gone, all the same.


    She hoped with everything she had that fate would not force her to kill them all. But she could not neglect her duty for the sake of a few mortal lives.


    Not anymore. She¡¯d already waited too long. And now, something was happening. A convergence, blooming out of this wretched place.


    Not one death. Not one death. Gwil¡¯s promise had shaken her to her core. And not only because she was going to break it herself. That hardly counted.


    How could he say such a thing? And with such pleasant assuredness. It was insanity. And in uttering those words, he had forced hope upon her.


    Someone like that was not supposed to exist.


    A woman appeared beside her, calling her name. It was Limmy. Isca blinked at her. Limmy was fiery when she first arrived. She¡¯d broken like all the others, but a spark had been kindled.


    ¡°What¡¯d you say? What is it?¡±


    ¡°The door, Isca. We can¡¯t open it. The keycard is there and everything. But the system is completely shut down.¡±


    ¡°Was the power cut?¡±


    ¡°No. Other things are working. It¡¯s just the door won¡¯t¨C Isca, I think we¡¯re trapped.¡±


    Isca stopped herself from grimacing, kept her voice steady. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Limmy. It¡¯s just a door. We¡¯ll find a way through. But keep it quiet, eh?¡±


    Well, here¡¯s your chance, Gwil. Show me what you are. Show me that I haven¡¯t fallen victim to delusion.


    Isca looked at her hands, at the scripture inked across her palms. Her body cramped up. Her face shook at the tension in her neck. Damn this rotten fucking world!


    She went down on one knee, clawing at the stone with her soft fingers.


    The World turns upon the doctrine of the Legion. Evil dictations, human and vile.


    Fate has been enslaved¡ªit is written on my flesh. Wasted stars, the heavens bleed¡ªit is written on my flesh. The Hells are overflowing¡ªit is written on my flesh. The Mindless One has been ensnared¡ªit is written on my flesh.


    I must return home.


    A cold hand¡ªso feeble that it felt boneless¡ªrested upon her shoulder. She looked up at a weary face.


    Old man Diom. He¡¯d spent twenty years in these mines, twice as long as anyone else had ever lasted. It¡¯d been a long time since Isca heard him speak. Months.


    ¡°Be strong, Isca,¡± Diom croaked. ¡°We need you. We all drink of your will. A storm has come. I saw him¡­ and remembered the rain upon my face.¡± His grip on her shoulder tightened. ¡°I must feel it again.¡±


    Isca stood.

 Chapter Twenty-Four – The Ropes That Bind Us

    Gwil emerged first from Buzzard¡¯s secret tunnel, squinting against the light as he clambered out. The clear blue sky felt oppressive. Burning sunlight beating down¡ªeverything gleamed.


    The exit hatch was embedded in the ground, camouflaged with false rock. Gwil looked around as the rest of the party climbed out after him, grunting and cursing under the burden of Buzzard¡¯s various supplies, artifacts, and instruments. Dwillard had to be shoved through as his cumbersome tube-thing got wedged in the hatchway.


    They found themselves in the base of a ditch with sides steep enough to provide some cover. Gwil crept up the slope, keeping his head low.


    They were in the barren, rocky stretch between the town and the wall, surrounded by the towering heights of the narrowing canyon.


    Some twenty meters ahead, the stone wall loomed, cutting through the sky.


    Gwil¡¯s breath caught as he scanned the top. About thirty Podexian troops manned the wall¡ªless than he¡¯d expected! Two very serious-looking mounted ballistae pointed toward the prison entrance. The rest of the guards paced back and forth. The wall was wide enough that they walked three abreast.


    There, in the center, a black silhouette¡ªthe sheriff, distinguishable by the shape of his hat. He was sitting in a chair with his feet kicked up on a crate or something. Gwil found that annoying.


    ¡°Right, we¡¯re leaving, Buzzard,¡± one of the derelict guards whispered. ¡°What do you want us to do with all this shit?¡±


    ¡°Oh, heehee, perhaps you could help me carry it just a bit further.¡±


    ¡°No chance,¡± the guard said. ¡°Ain¡¯t no way you¡¯re roping us into that.¡±


    As they argued, Gwil kept his eyes on the wall, his grimy hair whipping around. It was a clear day, but windy, and dark clouds threatened from the northern horizon.


    Reaching up with his long arm, Buzzard tugged at Gwil¡¯s pant leg.


    ¡°What¡¯s up, doc?¡± he said without turning around.


    ¡°I fear, in all this commotion, something, heehee, slipped my mind. Heehee. Erm, do you, by chance, know how to obscure your Nirva?¡±


    Gwil looked back at him. The doctor clamped his hands over his mouth.


    ¡°No? What do you mean?¡± Gwil said.


    Buzzard stifled a squeal.


    ¡°What the hell is it, Buzzard?¡± barked one guard.


    ¡°We¡¯re doomed,¡± the doctor squeaked.


    The guard grabbed Buzzard by the collar as Gwil slid back down to the bottom.


    ¡°Jackson knows exactly where we are,¡± Buzzard explained in a quiet murmur. ¡°He must. There is no way that he does not detect Gwilym¡¯s Nirva.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± said everyone.


    ¡°Hey, you probably should¡¯ve thought of that before!¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Oh gosh, boss, that¡¯s real bad,¡± Dwillard said.


    Buzzard extracted himself from the guard¡¯s grip and rammed a finger into Gwil¡¯s chest. ¡°It¡¯s your fault! It¡¯s such a basic skill I never considered that you wouldn¡¯t possess it.¡±


    Gwil scrambled up the wall of the ditch.


    ¡°Shit, boys! What do we do? Should we run?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll never make it.¡±


    ¡°Cool it. We ain¡¯t done nothin¡¯ wrong. The sheriff locked us in outta necessity. We got ourselves out outta necessity. He¡¯ll be happy to have us back.¡±


    ¡°Are you crazy? We¡¯re holed up down here with a goddamn Hallowed slave. He¡¯ll slaughter us.¡±


    Gwil watched the sheriff rise to his feet. He came to stand at the edge of the wall. Sunlight glistened off his gold-toothed grin. He was staring right at them.


    ¡°Shit.¡± Waiting around wasn¡¯t gonna do any good. Gwil climbed out of the ditch.


    ¡°Don¡¯t leave us, Gwil!¡± Dwillard said.


    ¡°What are you doing, fool?¡± Buzzard squawked.


    ¡°Help me out with one of your gizmos,¡± Gwil shouted as he started running.


    Panic took the band of renegade guards. Most of them fled toward the town, but a few ran with Gwil, toward Jackson and the wall.


    Only Dwillard remained in the ditch with Buzzard.


    From atop the wall, Sheriff Jackson raised his hands.


    A field of ropes spawned out of the rocky ground.


    As two of the guards were snared and rooted down, Gwil jumped and kicked at the tendrils.


    An anaconda of a rope spiraled into being, as thick around as Gwil¡¯s neck. He turned sideways to dodge, but the hefty thing whipped into his stomach, clotheslining him.


    Gwil wrapped his arms and legs around it to keep it from coiling around him. The rope was scalding hot, and his body went cold as his Nirva receded, fleeing.


    He let go as the rope lifted him into the air and saw that it was growing. He scrambled across the ground like a crab, flailing to untwist himself from closing knots.


    A desperate gnat in a spider¡¯s web.


    ¡°Argh!¡± He was here to fight, not to die like a fucking bug.


    His Nirva was hiding, nestling itself deep. Submitting. Nuh-uh. That wasn¡¯t okay. He¡¯d force the confrontation.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Gwil stopped trying to fend against the ropes. Instead, he spread his arms wide, grabbing as many of them as he could and hugging them to his chest.


    It was like bathing in a tub full of hot coals, but he only squeezed tighter. If he could just force his Nirva to the fore, focus it, Gwil knew he could overcome the ropes. Just like when he¡¯d driven it into his hand and made it heal faster.


    He must have been screaming, but he couldn¡¯t hear anything over the torrent of blood rushing through his head.


    Fiery Nirva bubbled up and then exploded like a geyser. It surged through his chest, poured down his arms.


    More, more, more. Nothing mattered except eclipsing the Nirva that drove the ropes. Gwil would rather die than learn that his will was weaker than a shithead like the sheriff.


    And to be beaten without even putting up a fight. He could not accept that.


    The ropes spasmed and Gwil thrashed like he was drowning. He lost himself to the dueling tides. He was nothing except his desperate stranglehold. Reduced to a singular purpose¡ªdestroy the ropes.


    Coolness tickled his flesh like misty rainfall. The furious writhing of the ropes abated. They turned stiff, brittle. With one last burst, Gwil crushed the bundle against his chest, and the ropes exploded into ashy dust.


    He threw his head up as if he¡¯d just surfaced from a dive, gasped for breath. Like a river breaking through a dam, Gwil¡¯s Nirva rushed away from where he¡¯d been holding it and spread throughout his body.


    Beneath his feet, the nest of shredded ropes quivered. Only what he¡¯d held in his arms had shattered.


    He thought he understood. The Nirva needed to be focused. Honed. Otherwise, it was frail and thin. And the ropes were made of Nirva, so they must have been chockful of it.


    Gwil took a deep breath and pressed his Nirva down to his feet. It was easier now that he was not tied up. He stomped on the heap of ropes, grinding them into dust beneath his boots.


    Lightheadedness racked through him, as if he¡¯d been hanging upside down. The Nirva broke free of its reins.


    Woozy, Gwil looked up at the wall. Jackson was not even paying attention to him.


    The sheriff jumped off the top of the wall.


    Ropes unfurled from his hands. He swung in a graceful arc and landed softly on the ground.


    Gwil glanced back but could not see into the ditch to know whether Buzzard was still there. What he did see was the three guards that had been running alongside him¡ªall on the ground, hogtied.


    He knew well how much it sucked being hogtied. Gwil drove his Nirva into his fingers. They stiffened and curled into hooks. Claws.


    He went to the nearest guard and ripped apart her bindings¡ªit was the woman who¡¯d been making the others laugh. The knots put up more of a fight than he¡¯d expected. Though this rope was much smaller than the one he¡¯d just tangled with, it was sturdier and denser.


    Gwil wondered¡­ Nirva was fickle. And these constructs were created out of thin air, like magic. It must have been a complex thing, affected by myriad factors.


    Moving to the second guard, Gwil kept his eyes on Jackson. He was not approaching yet. Rather, he was using his ropes to lower a host of his troops to the ground¡ªabout half remained atop the wall. The man¡¯s giant bike, too, was wrapped up in a harness and descending.


    ¡°What are you doing man!¡± the guard cried as Gwil untied him. ¡°Get away! You¡¯re gonna get us killed!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re sticking with Jackson,¡± the third one, still tied, called from a short way away. ¡°No hard feelings, but we gotta save our own skin. You get it.¡±


    Gwil waved him off. ¡°Whatever you want. Good luck.¡±


    That screaming engine roared to life. The sheriff approached on his bike. A chopper, he¡¯d called it.


    Behind him, his officers jogged to keep pace. Since the distance was so short, Jackson just paddled the bike along with his feet rather than actually riding.


    Gwil strode toward them.


    When they were three meters apart, Jackson stopped and bent low over the handlebars to fix Gwil with a glare.


    ¡°You could¡¯ve just walked,¡± Gwil shouted over the chugging engine.


    The sheriff shut off the bike and dismounted. He tipped his hat and said, ¡°Never go anywhere without my chopper, kid.¡±


    ¡°That looked silly though,¡± Gwil said.


    Jangling as he walked, the sheriff came closer. He spat out a slimy wad of chew. ¡°Tell me. Who in the fuck are you?¡±


    Gwil pumped a blink of Nirva into his legs and launched himself. He¡¯d been jumping far with his Nirva before, but now he could really put some force into it.


    Jackson raised a net. Gwil reached out, ripped it apart and flew through, raised his fist-


    The sheriff spawned two ropes and yanked himself out of the way, almost like a sort of dogsled.


    Gwil rolled out of his whiffed attack and popped back onto his feet.


    Jackson grinned. ¡°I ain¡¯t fought properly in years. I¡¯m a bit rusty. Take it easy, wouldja?¡± His hands blurred as a tangle of ropes lashed out to swarm Gwil.


    Gwil swatted the beginning of the assault away but lost his balance and had to jump back from the rest. It was disorienting, sending his Nirva sloshing around through his body. When he put everything in his hands, his legs went sluggish with a sort of drunkenness.


    ¡°Woo!¡± Jackson hollered. ¡°Fresh outta hell, and you fight like this? Not two days ago, a single rope had you whimperin¡¯ like a piggy on its way to the butcher.¡± He laughed. ¡°Oh, to be young again.¡±


    The sheriff¡¯s entourage, who were hanging back, laughed with him and said things like, ¡°Get him, boss.¡± And ¡°Let¡¯s barbeque him like the pig he is.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about them, kid,¡± the sheriff said, looking only at Gwil. ¡°I don¡¯t fight dirty. It¡¯s just you and me. But I¡¯m warmed up now. The gloves are comin¡¯ off. Wanna tell me your name ¡®afore I keel you?¡±


    Gwil ran at the sheriff, his every step feeling thunderous with the infusion of Nirva. He caught the first rope as it swung out to coil around his neck.


    But two more snaked around his ankles. He caught one with a stomp, crushing it. But the other snared his leg and pulled it out from under him.


    Gwil¡¯s hip bounced against the rocky ground as Jackson reeled him in like a fish. ¡°Works every time. Gotta protect your neck.¡±


    Using his other foot, Gwil got some leverage against the tautened rope and ripped his foot free. His boot came off, along with a strip of flesh.


    His hands still occupied with the noose closing around his neck, Gwil pumped Nirva into his spine and rocked himself up onto his feet.


    Then he launched himself like an arrow. The top of his head slammed into Jackson¡¯s nose. Cartlidge crumpled.


    The sheriff staggered back and spawned a mess of ropes, but Gwil stuck right on him, and managed to get in front of the ropes. He headbutted him again.


    Gwil took the moment as they fell to rip the noose off with a flare of Nirva through his hands. The whispering voices flurried with excitement.


    And then they were grappling with each other on the ground.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you fuckin¡¯ dare,¡± Jackson barked at his officers. ¡°Stay the fuck back, all y¡¯all.¡±


    Ropes everywhere. Gwil let his instincts shoot pulses of Nirva at random. The spur on the sheriff¡¯s boot caught him on the side of the head and left him seeing stars and gushing blood.


    But a knee to the gut knocked his wind out. Gwil loosed a sputtering scream as the sheriff grabbed hold of his flayed foot and dug his fingers into the wounds.


    Gwil twisted himself over one of Jackson¡¯s thighs and then grabbed the man¡¯s calf and started bending his knee the wrong way.


    Jackson flew out from under Gwil, yanking himself away. He conjured a few more ropes to lift himself onto his feet like a marionette.


    Gwil stood with his hands on his knees. The tendons in his foot twisted themselves back together. His closing head wound tugged at his hair.


    Jackson took his hat off and held it over his heart, swept his other hand through his sweaty hair. He was breathing hard. Seeing his gray-white hair, Gwil realized the man must¡¯ve been pretty old.


    A soft crack popped out as the sheriff bent his nose back into place. His mustache was all stained with blood. But his lip, which Gwil had busted open with his headbutt, was closing itself up.


    Gwil grimaced. Part of him knew, of course, but maybe he hadn¡¯t properly considered the fact that Jackson could heal himself too.


    ¡°Let¡¯s take a breather,¡± the sheriff said. ¡°But don¡¯t you dare go thinkin¡¯ I need it more than you. This the most fun I¡¯ve had in years. I don¡¯t wanna kill you yet.¡± He packed a wad of chew into his lip, then flashed his golden teeth. ¡°Make me regret my hubris.¡±


    Jackson¡¯s officers got a kick out of that. Gwil spotted Cigar and Toothpick, thanks to their respective accessories. Toothpick swooned at the sheriff¡¯s words.


    ¡°C¡¯mon kid,¡± the sheriff said. ¡°Don¡¯t be so fuckin¡¯ surly. We¡¯re havin¡¯ fun here. You¡¯ve impressed me. Damn near ripped your own foot off the moment we started fightin¡¯. Tell me your name.¡±


    Gwil stared at him, but really looked past him, at the wall. He couldn¡¯t let himself get caught up in this, not yet. He needed to get the door open for the others. Time to come up with a clever plan.


    He spat out some blood and grinned. ¡°I¡¯m Gwil.¡±

 Chapter Twenty-Five – Just a Little Bit

    ¡°Gwil, eh? Short for Gwilliam? Reckon it¡¯d be less stupid if your mama just called you William, but who am I to say?¡± The sheriff tipped his cap. ¡°Theodore Jackson.¡± He pointed to his big silver belt buckle. ¡°Humble sheriff of Chateau Podexia.¡±


    ¡°Not for long,¡± Gwil said.


    Jackson laughed. ¡°You¡¯re something. You don¡¯t even know your Invoke, do ya?¡±


    Gwil smiled. Everyone always going on about that damn thing. ¡°What makes you say that?¡±


    ¡°Heh. Well, for one, you ain¡¯t used it yet, and I coulda killed you if I wanted to, so.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t die so easily.¡±


    Jackson shrugged. ¡°Nirva speaks. Yours is infantile.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m pretending,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°You don¡¯t strike me as the cunning type.¡± The sheriff sat down cross-legged on the dusty ground and gestured for Gwil to do the same.


    He remained standing.


    ¡°Kaia, Kaia, Kaia,¡± Jackson said. ¡°Money, money, money. Makes the World go round. I like you, kid. Comin¡¯ out here to fight me, you cut right to the chase. No bullshit.


    ¡°Grew up poorer than dirt, I bet? Fightin¡¯ for scraps. Hungry for riches. And you aimed for the top right off the bat. That¡¯s proper ambition. You¡¯re someone I¡¯d take under my wing.¡±


    Gwil laughed. ¡°Are you serious?¡±


    ¡°I ain¡¯t get to where I am by letting petty little things like broken noses get in the way of a mutually beneficial arrangement. You want money and power? Work for me.¡±


    Gwil said nothing.


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s a generous offer. Better than you deserve, considering the alternative is death. Maybe I¡¯ve gotten soft. But your goose is cooked. That little uprising you orchestrated is torched and toothless. Over before it began. They ain¡¯t comin¡¯ to help. My Kaia is nice and safe.¡±


    Gwil tilted his head. ¡°You sure?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t play maybes when the stakes are in the billions.¡± Jackson grinned. ¡°We¡¯ve dealt with this shit once before, ¡®bout a decade back. It¡¯s a delicate situation. But I¡¯ve got a trump card. See, they can¡¯t do any real damage without blowing themselves to bits. So all I gotta do is wait. If I send my troops in there, everyone¡¯d get all desperate. They might resort to something drastic, like blowin¡¯ up all the Kaia. We can¡¯t have that.


    ¡°So, I¡¯ll give it a few days. Let it simmer. It''s a siege. Let ¡®em get hungry and tired. Wear their edge down. And then, there won¡¯t hardly be a fight. Might even get to keep most of my slaves. I¡¯ll execute a few for good measure, but.¡±


    ¡°You talk a lot,¡± Gwil said. ¡°And you¡¯re wrong. I don¡¯t care about money or Kaia. I wanna get those people outta the mines and kill you.¡±


    Jackson¡¯s men laughed. But the sheriff grumbled as he got to his feet. ¡°Is that it? You one of those Vermin blowhards or something?¡± He shook his head and lowered the brim of his hat.


    ¡°You¡¯re right. I was wastin¡¯ my time talking. You idealist types don¡¯t change your minds. I guess it¡¯s to the death, then.¡±


    The sun hung high overhead, beating down on the land. Swirls of dust twisted through the air. The Nirva voices were as one with the wind.


    ¡°You¡¯re an asshole,¡± Gwil said. Nirva stole through his legs, and he flung himself at the sheriff. A net shimmered into existence.


    Gwil had aimed low. He dove under the net, sliding on his shoulder. Within reach of the sheriff, he flipped himself around and slammed the bottom of his boot into Jackson¡¯s shin.


    It felt like he¡¯d kicked an iron bar. The sheriff didn¡¯t even flinch. But Gwil felt the bones in his foot crunch apart, and the impact shocked through his leg, jostling the socket in his hip.


    Of its own volition, Nirva flooded Gwil¡¯s leg.


    Jackson stood over him with his hand out. Ropes fell from his palm to snake around Gwil¡¯s wrists and torso. He rose off the ground.


    Jackson spat. ¡°It¡¯s just fuckin¡¯ sad, honestly. Desperation only goes so far, kid. Did you really think you had something on me? Cause you broke a few of my ropes? I was a hundred meters away, and I had other shit on my mind. Now, it¡¯s just you and me, and you got nothin¡¯.¡±


    The ropes disappeared. Gwil fell to the ground, caught himself in a crouch. He stood and shook out his leg.


    ¡°I¡¯ll let you die on your feet,¡± Jackson said.


    ¡°You¡¯re so cool, boss!¡± called Toothpick from the side.


    Gwil thought to try something other than running straight at his enemy. Bare foot scraping against the stone, he dug in to hold his ground and wait for Jackson to make a move.


    What a stupid idea. When was standing around ever worth a damn? Ropes spawned from the ground like nightmarish weeds, groping for his ankles.


    Gwil kicked through them, dashing to the side as the sprouting field gave chase. He pivoted, trying to double back, but one caught his wrist and dragged him to the ground.


    He tumbled as the ropes began flinging him around, tossing him about like a dog playing with a dead bird.


    This was bad. They weren¡¯t even fighting; he was just being toyed with. He needed to get to the wall. If he could at least get the others out.


    But he didn¡¯t get a chance to escape from the wringer. The ropes caught him and lashed him to the ground. A carpet of ropes grew over his body, covering him in a cocoon and pinning him down with such force that it was hard to breathe, let alone move.


    The sheriff moseyed on over and sat down on top of Gwil¡¯s chest.


    ¡°William, William, William,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°I bet a buncha money don¡¯t sound so bad now, does it? Too bad¡ªoffer¡¯s off the table.¡± He squirted some spit out through his teeth. ¡°I thought you were a little bit special, but you just keep doin¡¯ the same sorry shit over and over. Runnin¡¯ at me like a mindless idiot. Folk like you were born to be slaves.¡±


    Pop. Pop.


    Gwil didn¡¯t know how, but he was free. Sitting on top of the ropes.


    Jackson grunted as his ass fell the short distance to the ground.


    A tiny moment of confusion. Gwil captured it. He threw his hands around Jackson¡¯s throat and started squeezing.


    There was some resistance at first. The man¡¯s neck felt as sturdy as a log. But Gwil pumped all his Nirva into his hands and broke through the defense. His fingers crushed soft flesh.


    The sheriff punched Gwil in the stomach. His fist landed like a brick and stole Gwil¡¯s wind.


    He went down on one knee but held fast to Jackson¡¯s throat. As ropes coiled around Gwil¡¯s arms, he threw all his weight into the sheriff, knocking them over.


    Gwil stayed on top, one knee pressing down on Jackson¡¯s chest, the other pinning his right arm.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    The man¡¯s face turned purple, splotchy and cracked with broken blood vessels. He gurgled on his drool, sputtering, spraying Gwil with spittle. Tears pooled around bulging, manic eyes.


    Something hard smashed into the side of Gwil¡¯s head. The sound of his skull cracking was terribly loud. And then again. The same sound, but with a squelch added.


    He started shaking, lost control of his arms. Hands went limp. ¡°No,¡± he rasped.


    Through collapsing vision, Gwil saw the sheriff scurry away, clutching at his throat. He heard him hacking and puking.


    Gwil¡­ uh¡­ he couldn¡¯t move so good. The World rocked back and forth. Caris had a rocking chair. His face was all wet. And it was so hot. Damned sunshine. And oh boy, did his head hurt. Pretty sleepy, too¡­


    ¡°Take me back, boss. Please.¡±


    Gwil blinked at the sound of the sniveling voice. Had he been napping at a time like this? He lay in the same position, so it didn¡¯t seem like much time had passed. But everything was blurry, and the sun was too bright.


    ¡°Take you back?¡± The sheriff¡¯s voice. He started laughing, gruff and menacing. It went on for a long time, and none of the others laughed with him.


    All Gwil¡¯s Nirva clustered in the side of his head, burning like a hot iron. His body was all twisted up. He tried moving and flopped himself flat onto his stomach. He brought a hand to his wound. Warm and wet and squishy and rough¡ªbits of gravel were embedded in his flesh. But he didn¡¯t feel any bones.


    ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll take ya back,¡± Jackson said, no longer laughing. ¡°I¡¯d love to take ya back. Why wouldn¡¯t I take ya back? Well, lemme ask ya something.¡±


    ¡°Anything boss,¡± the first voice whimpered. Gwil recognized it as one of those guards from Buzzard¡¯s lab.


    ¡°Did you think I didn¡¯t see it when that kid untied you from my ropes?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask him to do that!¡±


    ¡°I know you didn¡¯t.¡± A sound like a cracking whip, and then a cry of pain. ¡°So lemme get this straight. That kid helped you, his enemy, for no good reason. And you saw fit to smash him in the head with a rock while the two of us were having an honorable duel? Well, I¡¯ll be damned! Who wouldn¡¯t want a guy like you by their side?¡±


    ¡°I did it cause I¡¯m loyal to you, boss,¡± the guard pleaded.


    ¡°Die like a fuckin¡¯ dog,¡± Jackson said.


    Gwil bolted upright at the awful gagging sounds. His head was still swimming, but gently treading water rather than drowning and flailing.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, kid,¡± Jackson said. ¡°I¡¯m makin¡¯ it nice and slow, so he has time to think about what he did.¡±


    Gwil watched the guard choke to death. The man¡¯s hands pawed uselessly at the ropes coiled around his neck. His legs spasmed.


    Gwil hadn¡¯t noticed what an awful way to die that would be while he choked Jackson.


    The sheriff¡¯s officers stood in a row, arms crossed, stoic as statues, all identical with their sunglasses and their tank tops and their buzzcuts.


    When the dying man went still, Gwil made himself stand. As he got up, he spotted the other two guards that had followed him this way. Small in the distance, they were halfway to the town, running like hell.


    The sheriff either didn¡¯t notice or didn¡¯t care. His eyes drilled into Gwil.


    ¡°Sorry ¡®bout that. Tough to find men of integrity these days.¡± The sheriff scooped a fresh wad of chew from his pouch and packed it into his lip. ¡°I bet you¡¯re damned curious if you would¡¯ve had me. I know I am. We¡¯ll never know, thanks to this piece of shit.¡± He kicked the man¡¯s corpse. ¡°That must¡¯ve hurt, havin¡¯ your one chance slip through your fingers. But sometimes that¡¯s just the way she goes.¡±


    Gwil wiped off his face and ran his hand through his hair, breaking apart caked up blood. ¡°I¡¯ll just do it again.¡±


    The sheriff grinned. ¡°Ready?¡±


    Gwil sent a few pulses of Nirva into his head and then gave it a shake. Pretty stable. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°A bleedin¡¯ brain ain¡¯t no excuse,¡± the sheriff said. ¡°You heal up pretty quick, though. You¡¯re lucky¡ªnot everyone¡¯s got it like that.¡±


    Gwil lowered his head and charged. He heard the man scoff as he conjured a bundle of ropes.


    This time Gwil did not try to dodge. Instead, he caught what ropes he could, Nirva surging through his fingers to quell their lashing. He kept sprinting and crashed straight into Jackson, whereupon he slammed his knee into the man¡¯s groin.


    Untangling himself from the writhing bundle, Gwil ran. One bare foot slapping against the rock, he made straight for the wall. It was too sheer to climb, but maybe there was a way through the gate.


    Chancing a glance over his shoulder, Gwil nearly stumbled upon seeing that Jackson was not pursuing. He was just pointing at Gwil and ranting at his officers.


    The Podexians atop the wall had spotted him. One of the mounted ballistae swiveled around. With a sharp twang, the projectile fired.


    Gwil saw how its speed made the air ripple, but to his eye, it moved as slowly as a butterfly. He veered to the side as the javelin impaled the ground a few paces away.


    Gwil made it to the foot of the wall and then turned to run alongside it. The gate was not too far.


    And he was zooming. Feet skimming over the ground, it felt like he could¡¯ve run on water. His Nirva felt bound to his heavy breaths, pumping perfectly with the motions of his sprint, bouncing from leg to leg, arm to arm.


    The roaring scream of Jackson¡¯s chopper crashed through Gwil¡¯s trance. Looking to the side, Gwil saw the sheriff racing toward him, trailed by billowing black smog.


    Gwil grinned. He couldn¡¯t beat that bike to the gate. But maybe he could smash it up.


    He faced forward and kept sprinting, feigning that he intended to run for it.


    The wailing engine grew louder. Gwil could feel the chugging reverberations in his bones. The sheriff was coming at him from behind, at an off angle. One more second.


    Gwil broke off from the wall, pivoting around as he slid to a halt. And then he flooded his legs with Nirva and launched himself.


    The engine went silent, and then came a squeal. Jackson swung the back wheel out. At the same time, he conjured a web of ropes. Some wrapped around his body, lifting him off the seat, carrying him away.


    The rest wrapped around the bike, using its momentum to whip it through the air.


    Gwil smashed into the metal monstrosity. The arm that he¡¯d raised against the crash snapped like a twig. A spike-ended handlebar speared him through the stomach, and a foot pedal ripped out a chunk of his thigh.


    Blood gurgled from his mouth as he lay on the ground, mangled, pinned beneath the hulking bike.


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ disgraceful,¡± Jackson said, appearing above Gwil. ¡°Getting between a man and his chopper. You¡¯re the lowest of the low. And a fucking coward to boot. Running from a duel. After I showed you such respect.¡± He spat on Gwil¡¯s face.


    The sheriff picked his bike up¡ªpeeling away some parts of Gwil with it¡ªand then walked it a few paces away.


    Gwil lifted his head to look at the spaghetti-mess of his stomach. Looked like some organs were mixed in with the shredded tissue and tattered strips of cloth. Not good.


    His breaths came quick and shallow, sparse. Gwil hoped his Nirva was working on his wounds, but he couldn¡¯t feel much of anything. His intestine squirmed like a big worm. But he didn¡¯t know if that meant it was healing, or if it always did that. He¡¯d never seen it before.


    ¡°Your fuckin¡¯ blood and guts are all over it!¡± Jackson barked. The sheriff began muttering in a sort of cooing voice as he attended to his chopper, wiping it down with a handkerchief.


    Gwil¡¯s eyes closed as he watched. And then flickered open at a weight on his chest. The sheriff¡¯s boot. He felt his ribs crumple. He gagged on a spurt of blood that oozed up his throat.


    He could feel his Nirva now. Sputtering. Petrified. Not good.


    Jackson was still talking, but Gwil couldn¡¯t make out any words. His ears felt full of fluid. He tried to get out from under the sheriff¡¯s boot, but his head just flopped over to face the other way. His eyes saw nothing except the wall.


    He clawed at the ground. The gate. If he could just get to the gate.


    Jackson bent over to get in Gwil¡¯s face. ¡°Look at me when I¡¯m fuckin¡¯ talking to you.¡±


    Gwil spat blood into the man¡¯s face, earning himself a stomp on his minced abdomen.


    ¡°You¡¯re dead. Was it worth it?¡±


    ¡°Not¡­ yet¡­¡±


    ¡°Get over here, fellas,¡± Jackson called. ¡°This should be a hoot.¡±


    Gwil closed his eyes and tried to force his Nirva into his stomach. His innards were writhing a lot. He took it as a good sign. Everything was all sticky and hot and gross.


    ¡°You act like an animal,¡± Jackson said, ¡°you get put the fuck down like an animal.¡±


    ¡°Everyone¡­ goes free,¡± Gwil rasped. His voice was high and wheezy, like a sick kitten.


    ¡°The fuck did you say?¡±


    ¡°Not one death.¡±


    Jackson turned away to look over his shoulder. ¡°How should I do it, boys? I¡¯m open to suggestions.¡±


    ¡°Tie him to your bike and drag him around!¡±


    ¡°Hogtie him and hang him in the throne room like a chandelier while he bleeds out.¡±


    The gate. I can crawl away. But his eyes wouldn¡¯t open. The darkness flared with the sun¡¯s brightness. Maybe the bike. He¡¯ll freak out if I knock it over.


    ¡°Good ideas, all good ideas,¡± Jackson said, fingering his blood-soaked mustache. ¡°He did scuff up my chopper. That¡¯s unforgiveable. But I can¡¯t help respecting the kid a bit. He¡¯s just so¡­¡± Gwil heard snapping fingers.


    ¡°Audacious,¡± a voice said.


    ¡°Aye. That¡¯s it, Toothpick. Good vocabulary. I¡¯m impressed. I didn¡¯t even know you could read.¡± Jackson twisted his heel into Gwil¡¯s stomach. The sound was nasty, but it didn¡¯t hurt. ¡°You¡¯re audacious, kid. You did piss me off, but I know you were just trying to survive and thrive in our messed up World. I won¡¯t torture you. I¡¯ll just kill you.¡±


    Gwil¡¯s eyes opened. ¡°No.¡±


    Jackson laughed. ¡°Die beneath my boot.¡± He raised his foot. The spur jangled.


    Pop.


    Gwil threw himself into a roll.


    The boot crunched down on nothing but gravel.


    ¡°Where the fuck did you go?¡± Jackson said. ¡°Ain¡¯t no way he held onto a trick for this long. Ain¡¯t no way.¡± He raised his voice. ¡°Fan out, boys. Keep your wits about you. I dunno¡­¡±


    He¡¯d gotten away! Gwil covered his mouth to keep from laughing¡ªthe convulsions hurt his stomach. He couldn¡¯t believe it. He was sure he was dead, but he¡¯d scurried away and made it behind an enormous boulder. Jackson must have been a blind idiot or something.


    The ground quaked, jostling Gwil¡¯s mangled body. Less amused now, he took his hands away from his face and pressed them over his wounds to keep anything important from spilling out.


    A huge dust storm had stirred up. Good. That must have been keeping him hidden from the sheriff and his prowling men.


    Gwil could see them looming above, as big as giants. Or maybe he was looking at them through a telescope? Ah! He must have borrowed Buzzard¡¯s goggles. Gwil giggled.


    His eyes closed from the pain of laughing and they were way too heavy to open again.

 Chapter Twenty-Six – I Did It for You

    Doctor Buzzard sighed. ¡°Well, Dwillard, to the surprise of no one, it is up to me to save the day. Everything always falls upon the smartest person in the proverbial room. I would say you¡¯d do well to remember that, but I fear it will never apply to you.¡±


    He and Dwillard crouched beside each other, peering over the lip of the ditch. That oaf¡¯s knees were shaking, knocking together and producing a hollow, and very distracting sound, which Buzzard suspected would perfectly match the empty resonance that would sound if he knocked on the man¡¯s skull.


    How, oh how, have I ended up mired in these dismal circumstances? Stuck here with just this idiot for company. At least Dwillard had displayed some loyalty. That was more than Buzzard could say for the other renegade guards.


    Though perhaps those imbeciles had played their cards well. It looked like they might survive, or at least make it to the town, thanks to Gwilym distracting the sheriff. Well, all of them except the man that Jackson had just killed, of course.


    This Gwilym Oubliette had exceeded Buzzard¡¯s expectations, albeit not in a conventional sense. The young man just fought with such deranged determination that Jackson seemed thrown off-balance.


    That was before a bout of ill-conceived idiocy commandeered Gwilym¡¯s mind. Only a fool of the absolute highest order would¡¯ve thrown themselves at so monstrous a machine as Jackson¡¯s chopper.


    Alas, the boy was doomed. Too bad. Too bad, he was an interesting one. More pressing was that Buzzard¡¯s subordinates had abandoned him. And he needed some mule-folk to help transport his things. He had a lot of important items that he would not leave behind. Time to take matters into my own very capable hands.


    ¡°Dwillard,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Have you ever flown with a jetpack?¡±


    ¡°N-no,¡± Dwillard whimpered.


    ¡°Heehee. Are you crying?¡±


    ¡°N-no,¡± Dwillard said, wiping tears and snot on his sleeve. ¡°I just¨C Isn¡¯t there any way we can help Gwil? He¡¯s a nice guy. He saved my life.¡±


    Buzzard glanced up. Gwilym had been gutted like a fish and Jackson had his boot on his chest. ¡°Unfortunately, his book is on its last page. He will be dead any second now.¡±


    Dwillard sobbed. ¡°I just wish the fellas would¡¯ve recognized that Gwil cared about us more than Jackson ever did. And now he¡¯s dead!¡± he wailed.


    ¡°Pull yourself together,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°You can still save me. And you can do something that would make Gwilym very proud of you.¡± Buzzard clambered down to the base of the ditch and began rifling through his pile of possessions.


    ¡°Aha!¡± He extracted the jetpack he¡¯d built a few years ago. A large, blockish backpack with a rocket-shaped engine. ¡°Now, look here, Dwillard. A jetpack is deceptively simple to operate, though it requires a deft hand.¡±


    ¡°W-what¡¯d you want me to do, doc?¡± Dwillard said.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to fly over the wall, open the door, and release all the prisoners. In doing so, you will fulfill Gwilym¡¯s dying wish.¡±


    Dwillard stiffened his jaw. ¡°But what about the override?¡±


    ¡°Fool! It obviously still opens from the outside. How else would they ever get back inside themselves?¡±


    Before Dwillard could continue driveling, Buzzard spun him around and started strapping on the jetpack. Then he spun the buffoon around again, so they faced each other.


    ¡°Now, listen carefully. You have these two handles.¡± He placed Dwillard¡¯s hands on the grips. ¡°Feel the triggers? Yes, good. They¡¯re pressure sensitive. The left one¡ªthat is your left¡ªwill control your vertical thrust. And the right¡ªyour right¡ªwill control the horizontal.¡±


    ¡°Oh gosh, doc,¡± Dwillard said.


    ¡°I¡¯m not done. The right stick has two buttons on the top. One will lock in your altitude. The other will initiate a controlled descent. Obviously, that should only be done once you¡¯re above the control panel for the prison¡¯s door.¡±


    ¡°I think I get it,¡± Dwillard said.


    ¡°I¡¯m still not done! I haven¡¯t told you how to steer. However, it¡¯s simple, because I designed it so brilliantly. Both your pitch and yaw are controlled by the left stick, which affords you with full axial movement.¡±


    Dwillard said nothing. Finally, he was learning.


    ¡°Now, I advise you to fly very high above the wall so that you don¡¯t get impaled by ballista fire. Hopefully they don¡¯t spot you while you ascend, but there¡¯s not much we can do about that. Okay, I¡¯m done.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± Dwillard said. ¡°But how do I turn it on?¡±


    ¡°Feel along the bottom there. Yes, there¡¯s a pull cord. Pull it.¡±


    Dwillard¡¯s scream was cut off, at least to Buzzard¡¯s ears, as he rocketed skyward, sputtering, jerking, careening every which way.


    Buzzard took a whiff of the exhausted Kaia smog and licked his lips while glaring up at his fumbling assistant. Eventually, Dwillard stabilized and began making forward progress. He¡¯d gone plenty high enough, at least. Heehee.


    Buzzard knew that Dwillard would succeed. He would not have chosen a failure as an assistant. And the jetpack was nothing short of perfect.


    There we have it. The prisoners would go running free. Most of them would be killed by Jackson, but Buzzard would secure a few and they could carry his stuff while he orchestrated a grand escape. Where¡¯s my radio transmitter? He needed to get in touch with dear Adeline. Ah, but first¡­


    He returned to the crest of the ditch. There was Gwilym, lying in a pool of his own blood. Still alive! And the sheriff, oh, was he raising his boot? It looked like Buzzard was just in time. Goodbye, lad.


    And then Gwilym disappeared.


    Buzzard gasped and cranked up the zoom on his goggles.


    ¡°Heeheehee! I¡¯ll be damned!¡±


    The doctor pulled his Erithist needlegun from the holster on his belt and took aim. It was a spur of the moment thing. Call it a scientist¡¯s intuition. ¡°Alright, Gwilym, I¡¯m betting everything on you.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Keeping your cards close to the very end,¡± Jackson said. ¡°I respect it.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    The sheriff prowled, knees bent, head bobbing like a reptile. Ready. His men had fanned out around him.


    ¡°What is it? Teleportation? Invisibility?¡± Jackson muttered, half to himself, half to his prey.


    ***


    Gwil felt so cozy lying on the sunbaked rock. Better than a bundle of blankets beside the fire in the dead of winter. The Nirva voices were clamoring, but Gwil was getting better at ignoring them.


    Jackson and his officers babbled at each other as they stomped around. Hearing their frustration, Gwil smiled to himself. They couldn¡¯t find him. His hiding place was too good. He had time.


    His stomach was healing, but he¡¯d had to rip his hand out after it got embedded in the newly grown flesh. That had been a painful setback.


    His ribs had put themselves back together, but not quite right, leaving his chest lumpy and malformed.


    Looking up at the sky, Gwil thought he saw a man flying high overhead. But no, just a bird.


    An ear-splitting crack made him flail. The boulder that he¡¯d been hiding behind¡ªa huge silver spear had impaled it!


    At first, Gwil thought that maybe the ballista atop the wall had fired at the bird, and that the projectile had coincidentally landed right next to him. But no, that wasn¡¯t¡­


    Looking at the spear now, Gwil saw it was actually tiny. No bigger than a sewing needle. And the boulder had disappeared? He was exposed, laying right out in the open. What is going on!


    The needle¡¯s luster captivated his eye. He¡¯d seen it once before. Its ethereal quality could not be mistaken. Erithist. The substance that deadened Nirva.


    ¡°I found him! Boss! Boss! He¡¯s right here!¡± a voice shouted from a few paces away.


    Gwil turned toward the horde of stomping, scraping boots.


    ¡°How the hell?¡± Jackson barked.


    As he made to dash away, Gwil plucked the Erithist needle from the little stone that it was stuck in and closed his fist around it. The needle was so heavy.


    He made it three steps before vomiting and collapsing on the ground.


    Ah! I poisoned myself. Face down in the dirt, Gwil smiled. This would be even better.


    Jangling spurs marked Jackson¡¯s approach. ¡°Nice trick. But too late. You¡¯re outta fuel.¡±


    Gwil writhed on the ground but did not lift his head.


    ¡°I got a real good look at your organs earlier.¡± He kicked Gwil in the ribs.


    Gwil blew a raspberry, his tongue flapping against the dusty ground.


    ¡°Look me in the eye while I kill you.¡± Jackson grabbed a fistful of Gwil¡¯s hair and lifted him up.


    Gwil¡¯s arm shot out to ram the Erithist needle into Jackson¡¯s neck. A rope appeared from nothing and snagged Gwil around the wrist, diverting his thrust into the sheriff¡¯s bare bicep.


    The rope disintegrated in that instant. Jackson fell to his knees, retching.


    His own sickness from touching the Erithist abated, Gwil tackled the sheriff to the ground, planted his knees on the man¡¯s chest. Jackson groped for the needle, but Gwil pinned his arm and then smacked the top end of the needle with his palm to drive it deeper.


    Gwil flooded his fist with Nirva and cracked the sheriff on his quivering jaw.


    Again. And again. Gwil laughed at the popping sounds as the jaw bounced from side to side. With every blow, more blood speckled them both. Three golden teeth popped out.


    Jackson¡¯s eyes rolled back into his skull. From the vicious beating and the voracious Erithist, he began to seize and foam at the mouth.


    A charging horde of bodies and spears slammed into Gwil, stabbing at him, wrapping him up in their arms, shoving him, grubby hands scratching at his face. A spear glanced off his ribs, and another nicked his shoulder.


    Gwil swung his arm out and sent three of them flying back. He kicked another in the knee. With his other arm, he continued to beat on the sheriff¡¯s face.


    But more than a dozen of Jackson¡¯s officers assailed him, and eventually they threw him off their boss and buried him at the bottom of a dog pile.


    With a swell of Nirva, Gwil flailed his way out of the pile. Cigar rushed Gwil with his spear. Gwil caught the man by the wrist and then snapped it with a chop from his other hand.


    He shoved Cigar away as the officers formed a blockade between Gwil and Jackson. A few attended to the sheriff.


    Gwil caught the glint of the Erithist needle pinched between the fingers of one of the men.


    ¡°Dirty fuckin¡¯ trick,¡± Jackson barked. His face was a lumpy mess of red and purple, but already the swollen flesh was writhing.


    Gwil stood, clutching at his abdomen. Some damage inside his guts had gotten reaggravated while he was in the pile. Bile burned in his throat.


    He hawked and spat. He had to finish this now, before Jackson healed. He wasn¡¯t gonna get a better chance.


    Crunch! The sound was loud and sickening. They all turned their heads - in time to see the second man fall from the top of the wall and splatter on the ground.


    A song filled the air.


    On the other side of the wall, two hundred voices cried out in primal chorus. Sunlight kissed their skin. Clean air blossomed in their lungs.


    ***


    Dwillard touched down next to the door, as gracefully as a butterfly.


    ¡°Oh boy, oh boy,¡± he said, voice thin with relief. Every single muscle in his body had been clenched to the breaking point as he soared hundreds of meters above the ground.


    Dwillard pumped his fists. The doc was right! The jetpack was amazing!


    He clasped his shaking hands. Sorry you don¡¯t get to see this, Gwil. The former prison guard reached for the lever beside the door and pulled it.


    ¡°Wahoo!¡± Dwillard screamed as the heavy prison door groaned open.


    The raw ecstasy in those roaring voices drove Dwillard to his knees. He started crying. That huge, scary redheaded guy came running out first. And then they all poured forth¡ªmen and women who Dwillard had abused with his own two hands.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡± he wailed as the mob rushed past him. No one spared him a glance.


    He pressed his forehead to the ground. ¡°Can you see this from down there, Gwil? I did it for you! I¡¯m terrified of heights!¡±


    ***


    Cort, a spear in each hand, was the first out. He had the layout of this courtyard¡ªand the wall¡¯s defenses¡ªseared into his mind. Through all those hours toiling in the mines, he¡¯d been visualizing this moment. His pathing was automatic, as if he¡¯d rehearsed it a thousand times.


    He turned sideways, skip-hopped, and hurled the first spear.


    The first ballista operator was impaled before he¡¯d even turned around.


    The second at least got his hands on the weapon¡¯s crank. They both toppled over the other side of the wall.


    Cort flashed a thumbs up.


    The freed prisoners surged past him as he scanned the wall. About a dozen Podexians remained up top. Frozen, aghast, faces warped by jaws that were so dropped they defied anatomical limits.


    Limmy stood next to Cort with a bundle of spears in her arms. He took two and waited for another guard to attempt to man the ballista.


    That did not happen. Instead, moving as one, the guards all turned and ran, hightailing it along the wall¡¯s length, heading for the manor that stood on its far end.


    Brock clattered past, bearing Leira (asleep) and Ansoir (unconscious) in his litter.


    Cort turned. There stood Isca, alone at the prison¡¯s threshold. He had never seen her with such a bright, genuine smile. The crinkles on her face warped her tattoos. It made him happy and sad and terrified all at once.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± he barked.


    She shook her head. ¡°You know I can¡¯t. I told you what I would do.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re crazy if you think I¡¯m gonna let you do that!¡± He shook his head. ¡°They¡¯ve abandoned the wall. We don¡¯t need to do it. We¡¯re gonna go right through. We¡¯re free. Don¡¯t!¡±


    She tilted her head. ¡°I¡¯m not sacrificing myself, I promise.¡± Something was wrong with her voice. It was too soft.


    ¡°Damn right you¡¯re not.¡±


    He made to grab her, but she said, ¡°Don¡¯t you trust me, Cort?¡± and he stopped.


    ¡°Not right now I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I must destroy this poisoned place. Excision is required. It¡¯s not something that you can understand, so you just have to trust me.¡±


    ¡°Fuck that. I¡¯m not gonna let you kill yourself for whatever bullshit you¡¯re wrapped up in. I thought you hated all that stuff anyway.¡±


    ¡°I promised you I won¡¯t die. And I can make another promise, too. We¡¯ll see each other again.¡±


    He couldn¡¯t make himself speak. It felt like his tongue was trying to crawl down his throat.


    ¡°If you care about me, let me go,¡± Isca said. She smiled again. ¡°Just come and find me after.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡±


    She laughed, and it sounded like music. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to say, right? I¡¯ll know when you all get clear, so don¡¯t worry about that. Cort, I have to go. I¡¯m sorry. But listen. I think Gwil and Leira are special. Please go with them. Bind your life to theirs.¡±


    ¡°What? Isca-¡±


    She took a tiny step over the threshold and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. ¡°Go. They need you. The fighting isn¡¯t over. And Cort¡­ it will never end, not until the last star falls.¡±


    With that, Isca reentered the prison. She did not look back.


    The gloom swallowed her, and Cort wanted to vomit.


    He could just follow her inside and drag her out. But¡­ why couldn¡¯t he do it? Dammit, why couldn¡¯t he follow her?


    Such deep conviction in her voice. It would¡¯ve been blasphemous to defy her wishes. Like trapping a bird in a cage.


    No matter how desperately he wanted, Cort could not get himself to follow her. All he could do was wonder at the scripture written across her flesh. She all but said it¡ªshe was forced to do this.


    Jaw clenched, Cort turned and dragged his heavy feet toward his comrades. They¡¯d reached the foot of the wall. Hundreds of fists pounded against the metal gate, underscoring their rabid screams. That¡¯s right. Bang the war drums.

 Chapter Twenty-Seven – Without a Trace

    Gwil was in hysterics. His enemies were pissing themselves. Jackson was feral with rage, screaming and cursing like the village lunatic on a particularly horrific night.


    Despite the ¡ª from their perspective ¡ª calamitous turn of events, the Podexians still held their ground with spears aloft, protecting their boss.


    Gwil didn¡¯t mind taking a breather. Things felt a bit¡­ loose and wriggly in his guts, and his fit of laughter had made it worse. But he couldn¡¯t help it. They¡¯re free!


    Nirva burned in his stomach, stitching things back together. But the rest of him felt frail and battered in its absence.


    ¡°Ha! You¡¯re done for,¡± Gwil said.


    Jackson fell silent. The echoes of his deranged screams lingered as he lowered his hat. His cheeks puffed out like a squirrel, partly because of the swelling, and partly because of the huge wads of tobacco he¡¯d stuffed into his mouth.


    The sheriff dashed toward his chopper.


    ¡°Hey! Where do you think you¡¯re going?¡± Gwil yelled.


    Heedless, he threw himself into the wall of spears. The guards pushed back. Gwil disarmed a couple, threw a few punches. But his injuries were taxing, and his Nirva faltered. He was forced to back away.


    Jackson had mounted his bike and fired up the engine. Rancid Kaia smog belched out the exhaust. Gwil felt nauseous and shivery from the smell.


    With a spray of dust and smoke, the sheriff peeled out. Gwil backpedaled, intending to run around the guards and give chase. He wouldn¡¯t let that bastard touch the prisoners.


    But it turned out that was not the sheriff¡¯s intent. Jackson blew right past the gate and then veered out, making a beeline for a very solid-looking section of the stone wall.


    Gwil gasped. The sheriff was going to crash!


    An array of ropes flew out of Jackson¡¯s hands, reaching all the way to the top of the wall. The bike tilted back onto its rear wheel.


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil yelled.


    Jackson drove his chopper straight up the sheer, vertical face of the wall. No wonder he loved that bike so much.


    Gwil watched in awe as Jackson escaped and forgot to be mad about it.


    The chopper reached the top. The roar of the engine faded as Jackson raced along the wall, heading for the manor.


    Gwil cracked his knuckles. ¡°Good. He¡¯s going home. I hope he knows we¡¯re not done.¡±


    Gwil looked back at the shell-shocked guards beside him. Spears at the ready, they backed away slowly.


    ¡°Aw, he left you all behind. Cigar! Toothpick! I didn¡¯t get a chance to say hi. Glad to see you woke up.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t come any closer,¡± Cigar said. ¡°This is a strategic retreat.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re smart,¡± Toothpick said, ¡°you¡¯ll take this gift from the sheriff and run as far as you can.¡±


    As Gwil strode toward them, one guard tripped and fell on his ass.


    ¡°I could kill all of you right now,¡± Gwil said, smiling. ¡°But I won¡¯t. Go. Tell him we¡¯re coming to take everything. You all get to watch.¡±


    Rapturous screams signaled beginning the gate.


    ¡°You should run,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I think they¡¯re angry.¡±


    The sheriff¡¯s officers ran. Gwil wondered why they made for the town rather than following Jackson, but then he realized they had no way to get up the wall. Idiots.


    And then he ran too, with his innards sloshing around and his misshapen ribs crunching together, Gwil ran toward the surging tide of freed prisoners.


    He allowed himself to be swept up. Their eyes glittered, and their smiles were wild. But their lungs still buzzed like a thousand flies.


    As they spread across the rocky expanse, a visible timidity held them. It was as if they did not believe it. As if with every footfall, they feared a plummet. That they¡¯d be torn away from this dream.


    Gwil spotted Brock, who was hard to miss, and made his way to him through the throng.


    Cort was there. Gwil ran up and threw his arms around him, which the man tolerated for longer than Gwil expected.


    ¡°We did it,¡± Cort said.


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°He got away.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°The sheriff.¡± Gwil pointed up toward the manor. ¡°And the Burgermaster is in there. Freeing the slaves is not enough.¡±


    Cort stared at him.


    ¡°We need to crush them. Or they¡¯ll just do it again, won¡¯t they?¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Cort sighed. ¡°Yeah¡­ I guess you¡¯re right.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s Leira?¡± Gwil asked.


    Cort pointed up at Brock. ¡°Sleeping.¡±


    ¡°Sleeping?¡± Gwil said as he climbed up Brock¡¯s body.


    ¡°Hey, I think she needs the rest,¡± Cort said. ¡°She did something crazy with that flower.¡±


    The blonde afro guy sat slumped in the chair next to her, with a big, angry welt on his forehead.


    Gwil grabbed Leira¡¯s shoulders and gave her a little shake.


    ¡°Wuh,¡± Leira groaned as her eyelid fluttered. ¡°Gwil! What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°Everyone¡¯s out,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Now we¡¯re gonna take the fight to them.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± She rubbed at her eye and then stretched. ¡°Fucking hell. I can¡¯t believe I fell asleep. I feel like shit. Help me down.¡±


    ¡°What happened to your eyeflower?¡± Gwil asked as he guided Leira down to the ground. The petals were all small and stunted, clustered up like a bud.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± she said as she looked around at the carousing mob. Her eyes lingered on the town. ¡°So, it¡¯s done? We can just run for it?¡±


    ¡°No way,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I¡¯m not done. I need to finish off the sheriff.¡±


    ¡°You fought him?¡± Leira said. ¡°Shit, you look terrible!¡± She grabbed his chin and twisted him around to check his injuries.


    ¡°You do look like a giant wound,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°I was this close¡­¡± Gwil held up two fingers to indicate a microscopic amount, ¡°¡­to winning.¡±


    ¡°Gwil, don¡¯t. This is enough. You can¡¯t force these people to fight. Look at them.¡±


    ¡°Huh? That¡¯s the last thing I want. They should all run away.¡±


    ¡°I think he¡¯s right,¡± Cort said. ¡°If we don¡¯t cut the head off, they¡¯ll be dogging us wherever we go. But listen. There¡¯s no time for a committee right now. We need to get everyone as far away from the wall as possible.¡± He pointed toward the border of the town. ¡°I think that little cove in the cliffside is our best bet.¡±


    ¡°What? Why?¡±


    Cort took a deep breath. ¡°Isca stayed behind. She¡¯s gonna blow up the Kaia.¡±


    Gwil punched him hard in the shoulder. Cort staggered but did not react otherwise.


    Leira shoved Gwil out of her way. ¡°You left her alone to do that!¡± she shrieked. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you? I thought you were alright. Why didn¡¯t you go with her?¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Cort snarled. ¡°Both of you. You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. She¡­ promised me she¡¯d be fine.¡±


    ¡°Oh okay,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You should¡¯ve said before.¡±


    Leira grunted.


    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t lie about that,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cort said, nodding. ¡°She wouldn¡¯t. And she wasn¡¯t lying about blowing that mountain to hell either. We need to get everyone clear. Let¡¯s move.¡± He marched away.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Leira said. ¡°This is a terrible idea. We gotta stop her.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t,¡± Cort said. ¡°She needs to do this.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand,¡± Leira said. ¡°The Leviathan will-¡±


    ¡°I trust her,¡± Cort said. ¡°Hurry up, I don¡¯t wanna leave her stewing in her decision.¡± He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, ¡°Yo, everyone!¡±


    ***


    The mob huddled into the cove and waited with bated breath. Some stood at the edge, staring toward the wall.


    Tears fell for Isca.


    Word had spread of what was to come. Cort¡¯s assurances fell on deaf ears. For these beleaguered people, such a fanciful hope would not come easy.


    They waited.


    A disturbance rippled through the tense silence. Two figures approached. Anger flared up in the mob.


    ¡°Way to go, doc!¡± Gwil shouted. ¡°Calm down, you all. Buzzard is with us.¡±


    Buzzard and Dwillard hurried over to him and the mob settled, albeit with some reluctance.


    ¡°Heehee. Yes, yes,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Gods, you nearly gave me a heart attack when you touched the Erithist with your bare hand! I didn¡¯t think you capable of such a brilliant ruse!¡±


    ¡°Ohhh,¡± Gwil said. ¡°That was you who shot the needle?¡±


    ¡°What? Of course it was me, you idiot!¡± He threw his long arms up. ¡°What did you think happened?¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°I thought it just fell out of the sky or something. Wow! You saved me. You saved everyone, doc!¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s blue cheeks blushed pink. ¡°Well, I-¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Cort said. ¡°This asshole helped you?¡±


    ¡°Heehee. Gwilym had one foot in hell. He would not be here without me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Tell me, Gwilym, did you know you could do that? Or was it drawn out by duress?¡±


    ¡°Do what? I knew I could beat him,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I-¡±


    Dwillard fell to his knees and threw his arms around Gwil¡¯s legs. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re alive!¡± he wailed.


    ¡°Ahhh! I get it!¡± Gwil said. ¡°Dwillard, get up! You opened the door, right? I saw you flying! So cool!¡±


    Instead of standing up, Dwillard flopped over onto his side.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind him,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°More importantly, why have you all congregated here? Shouldn¡¯t you be running away or something?¡±


    ¡°Your precious Kaia mine is about to be blown to shit,¡± Cort said.


    Buzzard gaped and then rubbed his hands together. ¡°Heehee, really? How sinfully delightful!¡±


    ¡°I thought you¡¯d be mad, doc,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Mad? This is an incredibly rare thing I get to witness. It¡¯s not often that someone is willing to destroy such a large quantity of such an invaluable resource. I have severed ties with Podexia. I was leaving the Kaia behind, anyway.


    ¡°No, this is spectacular. It will surely be one of the biggest Kaia-related incidents to ever grace the World. I¡¯m so excited to see the effects. When will it happen? I wonder if we¡¯re far enough away¡­¡±


    Leira twirled a finger around her ear.


    ***


    Leira wanted to stop this. Needed to stop this. The Leviathan would be aware. But she found her tongue knotted by something, something familiar and unpleasant. Reverence.


    Isca¡¯s tattoos were not just a sexy look, then. She was someone of power. Real power. The World was twisting itself around her desires. And others would have their wills bent in accommodation.


    Shapers. That was what Anesidyra called them.


    Leira was one herself. So was Gwil. Skuld, without a doubt. That old man had it in spades.


    She¡¯d spent her life crushed beneath such otherworldly weight. And she had broken free.


    That Leira found herself suppressed by Isca¡¯s will right now was frightening. The woman was not even present. And she did not appear to be of such high station, for lack of a better term. She was a prisoner in this shithole, for fuck¡¯s sake.


    Leira had never seen the script of her tattoos. Whatever she was, or was a part of, it was something of terrible consequence. That, or the woman¡¯s conviction to commit this act was incredibly strong.


    Perhaps it was best that Leira let this happen. Not that she had much choice. She set her jaw. Ashkana would not be afraid.


    ***


    Everyone was gone. And they were free.


    Isca hated herself for feeling jealous. But it was so hard. And she had so far to go.


    It would never end.


    But she had this damnable sliver of hope. Not for herself, or her sect, but for the World. It was not too late. She¡¯d seen it with her own two eyes. I must return home.


    Back in the mines. Isca stood at the bottom of a pit, in the very same spot she¡¯d been working when the uprising began. She laughed. So much had changed in those few hours, it felt like years had passed.


    She¡¯d been working a particularly rich vein. The Kaia¡¯s glow was radiant. Beautiful, even.


    Isca picked her pickaxe up off the ground¡ªit lay right where she¡¯d left it.


    ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see you again, Cort,¡± she whispered.


    Isca sliced her palm open with the axe and squeezed her fist above the Kaia vein. Her corrupted blood caught fire when it touched the air.


    The white-blue flare that erupted was at odds with existence itself. A rift tore open.


    ***


    Kaia burned with such voracious intensity that the explosion¡¯s full duration was as brief as a heartbeat. Deep eradication was the sole yield.


    No bones, no blood. Of the Forsaken Apostate whose name was Drevytra Iscalia, Hellwalker, not a trace remained.

 Chapter Twenty-Eight – An Infinitesimal Moment

    If you blinked, you would¡¯ve missed it. And your eyes would¡¯ve opened on a transformed world. There was a mountain, and then there wasn¡¯t.


    Through Hallowed eyes, with his Nirva whipped up into a frenzy, Gwil saw it true.


    Ripples, like waves in the sea, coursed through the air. No. Not the air, the fabric. Everything.


    In an area expanding outward from the heart of the canyon, existence collapsed in on itself, folding as if the World had been made as pliable as silk.


    The pattern resembled the disquieting depths of an iris that you see when you look closely into another person¡¯s eye.


    White-blue light devoured the design, growing brighter and brighter until it devoured itself too, creating a void.


    That infinitesimal moment ended. The mountain had disappeared. In its place, a deep and massive ink-black crater, its surface as smooth as glass. It did not smoke or smolder.


    Nearly the entire wall had been destroyed, or rather, erased. But the ends still stood, sliced cleanly by the arced edge of the explosion.


    ¡°Woah,¡± Leira breathed.


    ¡°I missed it!¡± Dwillard said. ¡°I had to sneeze.¡±


    Cort stared, motionless.


    ¡°What a show!¡± Gwil said. ¡°I wanna go touch it.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Leira said. ¡°It¡¯s certainly poisonous, and you just got out of that hellhole.¡±


    ¡°On the contrary,¡± Buzzard said, holding up one finger. ¡°It should be perfectly safe. Heehee. Unless, of course, the immensity of that blast breaks our theorems pertaining to Kaia¡¯s destructive energy output. But I don¡¯t anticipate such an outcome.


    ¡°You see, nothing noxious remains. Nothing remains at all. Kaia destroys itself. That vacuous patch is likely the cleanest, purest place in all the World.


    ¡°Loathe as I am to use such a detestable word¡­ It becomes clearer with every passing day. Kaia is magic¡ªor at least so empyrean that we have no better word. It has something resembling a will.¡±


    ¡°Wow, it does look like a lot of nothing,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Precisely. Marvelous.¡± He began fiddling with his goggles. ¡°Heehee. Excellent. I have obtained a recording of the event. Once I get a new laboratory set up, I intend to sit down and dissect the footage for at least seventy-two straight hours.¡±


    ¡°Oh gosh, doc,¡± Dwillard said. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can stay awake so long.¡±


    ¡°You must, Dwillard. Who else will empty my catheter?¡± Buzzard scratched at his chin. ¡°Hmm¡­ I¡¯d bet my life that the Leviathan has caused worse Kaia incidents and covered them up. I need to investigate that. Oh! That reminds me. I didn¡¯t want to say this earlier in case it caused you to cancel your plan, but the Leviathan will certainly come to investigate what happened. Heehee.¡±


    ***


    ¡°How much time do we have, Buzzard?¡± Leira asked, her voice hoarse. ¡°When will they arrive?¡±


    ¡°How should I know?¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Will they send soldiers, or will a Monarch deign to come themself? The Monarch may be busy. What if they¡¯re in the bath? Will they come by warpship?¡±


    Leira slapped him hard across the face. Gwil and Dwillard gasped. Several heads turned at the sharp clapping sound, and many of the prisoners shouted their approval.


    ¡°Through what means will they detect what happened?¡± Leira said through clenched teeth. ¡°How much time?¡±


    Buzzard touched his hand to the red mark on his cheek. ¡°Several hours, at least. Perhaps a day or even days. Interestingly, it¡¯s not the blast that they will detect. That¡¯s impossible, since nothing remains, and no fallout was produced. It is this immense crater that they will eventually notice. It¡¯ll be picked up by one of their spy drones, which don¡¯t fly over this barren region very often.¡± He nodded. ¡°You will have some time.¡±


    Leira turned to Gwil. ¡°How dead set are you on staying here?¡±


    He pointed up at the manor in the hollowed-out canyon wall. ¡°I won¡¯t leave until I destroy their home. But you can take the prisoners away and I¡¯ll catch up.¡±


    ¡°No. No, I¡¯m not gonna leave you.¡± Leira shook her head, clutched at her hair. She hated this, this crippling fear. If they fled, they¡¯d be abandoning these poor souls, who they¡¯d just rescued, to certain death. Ashkana wouldn¡¯t be scared. Ashkana wouldn¡¯t run. Not from the Leviathan, not from anyone. She would fight.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°You guys are right,¡± Leira said. ¡°We can¡¯t just run away. We wouldn¡¯t make it anywhere with all these people, anyway. Let¡¯s finish this properly. But Gwil. We need to be gone before the Leviathan shows up, so be quick about it.¡±


    Gwil cracked his knuckles and smiled at her. ¡°No problem. I¡¯m gonna trash the cowboy and the Burger.¡±


    ¡°I know you will,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Hey Cort,¡± Gwil said. ¡°No one died, did they?¡±


    Without turning to look, Cort shook his head.


    Gwil grabbed Cort¡¯s squarish chin and twisted it around. Leira expected Cort to punch him in the face.


    ¡°Quit moping,¡± Gwil said. ¡°If she said she¡¯d be okay, then she¡¯s okay. But if you want to look for her together after this, we can.¡±


    Cort nodded.


    ***


    Bethany nibbled her fingernail as she circled the mannequin, examining the hot pink dress that adorned it. Speaking for herself, Bethany thought Wanda did perfectly fine work. Her dresses possessed a certain timelessness. Very well-suited to a traditional ball or some such thing.


    But this one, that the flower-eyed woman had given to her, was far too frilly. Bethany¡¯s heart skipped a beat, as it did every time that she thought of how much money Leira had given her.


    What a strange woman.


    Heavens, Bethany had no clue what she¡¯d ever do with all those doubloons. She¡¯d stashed them away in a slit in her mattress.


    The thought of striking out on her own did tickle her a bit¡ªthe devilish, brave part of her that only existed in her daydreams.


    Maybe one day she¡¯d meet a guest who had a means of transport and would be willing to smuggle her out of Podexia. If she could somehow open her own shop in one of the big cities¡­ Gods. Would she ever dare take that leap?If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Certainly not. And she wouldn¡¯t want to. Not really. Adeline was like a mother to her. An extremely harsh, overbearing, and demanding mother, but¡­


    Bethany smiled at her silly fantasy as she selected her biggest pair of shears and began hacking away at the mess of frills. Seldom did she get the opportunity to attack a garment so barbarically. She reveled in it as clumps of cloth fell around her feet.


    ¡°Bethany! Bethany!¡±


    She jumped, the shears clattering to the floor, as Adeline threw the door open.


    ¡°That looks lovely already, darling,¡± Adeline said. ¡°Be sure to bring it with us.¡±


    ¡°Mistress? Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s been a disaster in the mines,¡± Adeline said.


    Bethany clamped her hands over her mouth. ¡°Did¨C Is¨C Do you know if Doctor Buzzard is alright?¡±


    ¡°Of course he is, girl,¡± Adeline said. ¡°He warned me something was coming. We¡¯re leaving Podexia for good. Pack all your things and then come help me with the dresses. We¡¯ll bring only the best; space will be limited.¡±


    ¡°O-okay,¡± Bethany said. Her whole body shivered. She couldn¡¯t catch her breath. But it wasn¡¯t just her panic. There was something wrong with the air. She put her hand over her heart.


    Adeline reached out and took her other hand. ¡°We will be fine. I will protect you, I promise. Buzzy has a plan. But we need to help him, so be quick. We have a lot of work to do.¡± She scurried out the door, twirling her hand over her head. ¡°And lives to save,¡± she sang.


    ***


    Sophia trudged down the street, blinking against tears, swallowing against sobs. Her eyes flitted about, imagining accidents that might befall her and end this misery.


    A building collapse. A sinkhole. A Talus running her over.


    Today was one of her days working in the bordello. She hated it. Hate, hate, hate. And all that hate twisted her into something she hated even more.


    She hated the fucking bitch madam. She hated looking into the bleak eyes of the other women. She hated the scummy clientele.


    If she could just work in the lift¡¯s reception hall every day, life would not be so bad. Good even, for a slave. But instead, half her days were spent in purgatory, and the other half she lived in hell.


    Sophia did not know how many more days she could take. She hated how her sole desire was for death to take her. Worst of all, these chains made her resent her children, her twin baby boys. Born slaves. If not for them, she could off herself and be done with this World.


    She suffocated on her hatred. All this cruelty had made her into something awful. She was supposed to love her children.


    How soon after their first steps would they be taken and put to work?


    Sophia stopped around the corner from the bordello and leaned against the wall. With all she had, she fought not to cry. She would not taint this sliver of peace, these few precious seconds.


    She forced a quivering smile and looked at the sky. And then, she watched a piece of the World die.


    Everyone on the street panicked. A mountain had just vanished. An enormous chunk of land had been carved out of the canyon, the bottomless pit in which she and her children were imprisoned.


    Sophia laughed genuinely for the first time in a long time.


    And then she got serious. A chance. It would be chaos. They could escape.


    She turned and started running, making for her tenement. The old lady who lived next door was watching the boys.


    It¡¯s them, she realized. That flower-eyed woman who had harassed her. The Hallowed man who attacked Lord Ansoir a few days back was that woman¡¯s companion.


    When Sophia heard of that incident, she knew those two had been lying to her when they entered the Chateau. But she¡¯d never dreamed of something like this. The two of them were raiders or thieves or something. And they destroyed the Kaia mines.


    A miracle. That explosion was the most beautiful thing she¡¯d ever seen.


    Thank you, whoever you are. Thank you for this chance at a life. If not for me, please, at least let it be for some of us.


    Sophia clenched her fists. No. I will take it, no matter what.


    ***


    Sheriff Jackson sat in the seat of his chopper, which he¡¯d brought up onto the manor¡¯s rooftop deck. He had a spittoon in his lap, a bottle of whiskey in his left hand, and a cigar in his right.


    A bunch of sliced up corpses were scattered across the deck. Jackson had brought all the men who¡¯d fled from the wall up here and slaughtered them. Piece of shit cowards. They were mostly Stondemaier¡¯s men anyway, not a part of his old gang.


    But he¡¯d left Bart alive. Jackson liked Bart ¡®cause he always called him ¡®sir¡¯.


    The old gang was dead. That mangy Hallowed kid probably beat ¡®em all to death. That truth would hurt bad once Jackson stopped drinking, so he¡¯d keep on drinking.


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ goddamn piece of shit little brat,¡± he muttered. He sloshed some whiskey onto Bart¡ªwho was looking out over the railing¡ªto get his attention. ¡°No one¡¯s gone back into the prison?¡±


    ¡°No sir,¡± Bart said. ¡°They look to be heading for the town, sir.¡±


    ¡°Good. I¡¯ll go kill them later once I¡¯ve had my fill. And fuck all the resort guests and Stondemaier¡¯s gaggle of rich assholes. I¡¯m gonna massacre that whole fuckin¡¯ town ¡®cause I¡¯m royally pissed off. We¡¯re done with the resort shit. Waste of money. Pure Kaia mining from here on out. We got word that the elevator¡¯s shut down?¡± the sheriff asked.


    ¡°Yes sir, but I¡¯ve been trying to tell you, sir,¡± Bart said.


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ hell, man,¡± Jackson slurred. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Sir, Toothpick sent word and-¡±


    Jackson belched. ¡°He¡¯s alive?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir. Everyone you left down there is alive, sir,¡± Bart said. ¡°They¡¯re about to take the cable car up here. TP says that the Hallow spared him and the others.¡±


    ¡°What a fuckin¡¯ dweeb.¡± Jackson spat. ¡°So, the old gang lives. Maybe we get to keep playing the game.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir. But TP also said that the Hallow told them to tell you that he¡¯s, quote, coming to take everything.¡±


    Jackson laughed and then slammed his empty bottle of whiskey on the tile. ¡°I can¡¯t fuckin¡¯ believe it.¡± He clapped his hands. ¡°Bravo for you and your fuckin¡¯ principles, kid. Using Erithist in a fight.¡± He spat. ¡°Despicable. I¡¯m gonna dice his head up into little slices, like the way you cut up a salami roll, know what I mean, Bart?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°After I offered him a job too, man,¡± Jackson said. ¡°I liked that kid. I really did. Now I hate him. I can¡¯t wait to kill him.¡±


    He jumped up, and the motion made him vomit all over his boots. ¡°Ugh, I needed that. Fuckin¡¯ Erithist.¡±


    Jackson looked up at a bright light in the sky. At first, he thought a titanic fuckin¡¯ god was spawning, with an eye the size of a mountain.


    Then he realized what had happened.


    The sheriff closed his eyes, rubbed the wound on his shoulder that was takin¡¯ its sweet time healing. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth. He opened his eyes.


    ¡°Bart,¡± Jackson said.


    The man squeaked.


    ¡°Meet up with the boys when they get up here, then get Stondemaier, and set up shop in the throne room. Go right now, because I¡¯m about to lose my fucking shit, and I don¡¯t want to kill you.¡±


    Bart was gone in a flash.


    But the rage didn¡¯t boil over. Jackson chuckled to himself. I already lost. Come get me, kid. Let¡¯s see if this is the end of the line for me. Or the start of a new day.


    You watchin¡¯ me from hell, Pa? Lemme show you how a real man fights when his chips are down.


    ***


    Beneath the burning afternoon sun, the escapees drifted back toward the ruined prison, like moths to a flame.


    A cable car passed overhead. Through its window, they could see a bunch of Jackson¡¯s officers packed inside. The prisoners threw some rocks at it, but it was too high up.


    Brock rolled along behind Gwil, Leira, and Cort.


    Leira laughed. ¡°I wonder what all the townsfolk are thinking after that¨C Gwil! What is that sticking out of your chest?¡±


    ¡°Hm?¡± Gwil said, looking down. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s just my bones. I think I regrew my hand twice, and part of my foot, and maybe part of my intestine. Oh, I need to find my shoe!¡±


    Leira grabbed Gwil¡¯s hand, and he yelped. It was still all tender and pink.


    She leaned close and began examining his chest, which was covered with red fissures and patches of writhing granulation tissue. His prison jumpsuit hung in tatters and held on only because the strips of cloth had been grafted into his flesh.


    ¡°Ugh, I didn¡¯t realize it was so bad,¡± Leira said. ¡°How are you standing up? How are you even alive?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s normal, isn¡¯t it? You threw me off a cliff!¡±


    ¡°Fuck no, it¡¯s not normal. Yes, all Hallows have regenerative abilities, but regrowing limbs and¡­¡± she poked her finger into a particularly deep wound, ¡°mending organs in minutes? That¡¯s not normal, not without years of training.¡±


    ¡°Ha! I guess I¡¯m not too bad,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s no surprise,¡± Leira said, wiping off her hand. ¡°Ashkana knows what she¡¯s doing.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡± Cort grumbled. ¡°What¡¯ve you got to do with that madwoman?¡±


    Leira whipped around and grabbed hold of Cort. ¡°What have you got to do with her?¡±


    Cort extracted himself from her. ¡°Nothing. I don¡¯t have anything to do with anyone. But it was a Vermin commander that hired me to steal some Kaia from this place, and then, argh¡­¡± he trailed off with a wave of his hand.


    Leira smacked Gwil upside the head. ¡°Did you know about that? Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡±


    ¡°I forgot.¡±


    She smacked him again and then turned on Cort. ¡°Listen here, Cortemius.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not my name!¡±


    Leira jabbed her finger into Cort¡¯s chest. ¡°If there¡¯s anything in this World that you give a single shit about, you¡¯ll take Gwil and I to this commander as soon as possible. In fact, we should probably leave immediately.¡±


    ¡°Nuh-uh,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Are you crazy?¡± Cort said. ¡°I botched the job. I don¡¯t wanna see that guy ever again. Prolly wants my head.¡±


    ¡°Moron! Gwil is chosen by Ashkana!¡± Leira shouted. ¡°It is imperative that we find her, and this commander could help.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Gwil said, scratching his chin. ¡°What if Ashkana just wants to kill me or something?¡±


    ¡°Of course she doesn¡¯t,¡± Leira shrieked. ¡°That¡¯s the stupidest thing I¡¯ve ever heard. You are so stupid for even-¡±


    Her outburst was cut off by a sniveling, whimpering cry.

 Chapter Twenty-Nine – I’m Sorry

    ¡°This is my home!¡± Ansoir screamed. He tumbled out of the litter, only to be caught by Brock, who laid him down on the ground.


    ¡°Ugh¡­¡± Leira said.


    Gwil raised his eyebrows at Ansoir¡¯s tantrum. This guy was always so upset. He went to the flailing lord and picked him up by the collar.


    ¡°You dirty fucking monsters!¡± Ansoir screamed. ¡°Bloodthirsty heathens!¡±


    Gwil glanced up at Brock. The Talus kept his distance, nervously rubbing his boulder-hands together.


    Gwil let Ansoir hit him in the face a few times. Sometimes people needed that.


    ¡°Kill me!¡± he wailed. ¡°Just kill me! You¡¯ve ruined everything!¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry,¡± Leira said. ¡°He¡¯s my responsibility. Let¡¯s knock him out again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°No,¡± Gwil said.


    He shifted his hold on Ansoir to pin his arms against his sides. ¡°Stop screaming.¡±


    Ansoir spit in Gwil¡¯s face.


    ¡°You¡¯re kind of a piece of shit,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You freaked out after you hit me with your flying car. But I think you¡¯re just like an annoying little kid. So, it¡¯s not really your fault.¡±


    ¡°Erm, Gwil?¡± Leira said.


    He turned at the worry in her voice. Ansoir¡¯s shrieking had drawn the attention of a handful of prisoners. Most of them continued moving toward the black crater, but this group had split off to encircle the happening, and they were pressing closer.


    ¡°He¡¯s the worst of them!¡± a woman shouted.


    ¡°Spill his blood,¡± another cried.


    ¡°We should execute him in the town square!¡±


    Cort pressed back against the mob. Brock was beside himself, head bowed, arms flailing.


    ¡°Hey, hey,¡± Gwil said. He threw Ansoir over his shoulder, crouched, and, with a burst of Nirva, leapt over the heads of the buzzing mob to land behind them.


    Gwil pointed at them and wagged his finger. ¡°No one come any closer or I¡¯ll beat you up.¡±


    Leira pushed her way through the crowd to stand between Gwil and the mob. ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± she said. ¡°Ansoir is just a stupid little guy. Would killing him really accomplish anything?¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± roared the mob.


    ¡°Cort! What are you doing?¡± Leira hissed.


    He stood off to the side, leaning on his spear. He shrugged. ¡°I realized I don¡¯t actually care what happens here.¡±


    Gwil dropped Ansoir on the ground and said, ¡°Apologize to them, Antoin.¡±


    Leira facepalmed. That idea had pissed the mob off even more, driving them into a frenzy.


    ¡°What the fuck is an apology worth?¡± said a woman with a voice shrill enough to cut steel.


    ¡°Nothing for you,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But I wanna make him do it.¡±


    It didn¡¯t seem like they could even hear him over their clamoring.


    So, he yelled, ¡°Hey! Shut up!¡±


    Silence, except the wind and their wheezing lungs.


    ¡°Nobody talk, or I¡¯ll beat you up for that too,¡± Gwil said. Then he grimaced at himself. ¡°Ah shit. I don¡¯t wanna be like that. You can talk, of course. But I¡¯m not gonna let anyone hurt this guy, so go away or something.¡±


    The shrill woman pushed her way forward, tears streaming down her face.


    ¡°Limmy, don¡¯t bother,¡± Cort groaned.


    ¡°Why?¡± Limmy shrieked at Gwil. ¡°You¡¯ve been here for a couple days. Why do you get to decide? You don¡¯t know anything. A thousand of us have been killed. We¡¯ve been tortured for years.¡± She spat. ¡°My sister died of infection after a whipping. She spent her last breaths choking on her own vomit. Death is better than he deserves. Just give us this little scrap of revenge.¡±


    ¡°Of justice!¡± someone cried out.


    ¡°No,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°WHY?¡± And that scream might¡¯ve pierced the sky to fall upon the ears of deaf, dumb, and blind gods.


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°You don¡¯t get to kill this helpless, pathetic person just ¡®cause you want to. Work out why for yourselves. Go away, forget about Antoin. He doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    Ansoir, who had been cowering behind Gwil¡¯s legs, crept out and prostrated himself before the prisoners. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he rasped. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± He bawled, gulping for air between sobs. ¡°I-I-I-I was blind! I see now that you¡¯re all human.¡±


    The prisoners were momentarily stunned, but quickly resumed being angry. Cort inserted himself into the situation at that point and began shooing everyone away, sending them off toward the rest of their fellows at the crater.


    ¡°Please, just let me¡­¡± Ansoir trailed off as he crawled up into Brock¡¯s outstretched hand, and then went back into the litter and closed the curtains.


    Leira was beaming. ¡°Gwil! That was Ashkana-worthy.¡±


    ¡°Eh,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I didn¡¯t really mean to do any of that.¡± He scratched his chin; his beard had grown itchy and annoying. ¡°Hmm. Cort, do you think any of them will wanna attack the manor?¡±


    ¡°Definitely,¡± Cort said. ¡°I reckon a lot of them are way more interested in revenge than freedom. They¡¯d probably storm that manor without you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, okay. Everyone should do whatever they want,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But we gotta keep an eye on the extra sick people and the extra old people. I don¡¯t want anyone keeling over and breaking my promise to Isca.¡±


    ¡°Man, why do you care so much about any of this?¡± Cort grumbled.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the World I was waiting for.¡±


    ***


    The walls of the black crater were formed of tightly packed glassy dust. The end of the canyon had been blasted away; the mountain that stood above had vanished¡ªconsumed by the sphere of devastation.


    Like an enormous lake filled with inky nothingness.


    The prisoners gathered at the edge of the pit. Some stood still and silent, captivated. Others spat or wept. A few pissed into the emptiness.


    Kneeling at the edge, Gwil scooped up a handful of the black crystalline substance and closed his fist. It crumbled, the fragility reminding him of shed snakeskin.


    The pit looked bottomless, plumbing far deeper than the mines had. In the depths, Gwil could see fleet, indistinct splotches, a bit like the afterimages one sees if they look at the sun.


    ¡°It¡¯d be cool to go down there,¡± Gwil said. He looked at Cort, who knelt beside him. The hulking man looked like he¡¯d seen a ghost.


    Gwil clapped him on the back. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to find out how she escaped.¡±


    Gwil stood¡ªhe didn¡¯t want to bother Cort¡ªand went to Leira, who had maintained a healthy distance from the crater.


    ¡°I knew you¡¯re afraid of heights,¡± Gwil said.


    She shook her head. ¡°I dunno what that might¡¯ve opened up. I don¡¯t want to be seen.¡±


    Gwil frowned and recalled his promise to Skuld. Leira feared something. He could tell that it hung over her constantly. She was so strong for carrying all that weight.


    They¡¯d have to get rid of it. Gwil could not stand to watch her suffer.


    A little old man hobbled toward them, using a broken spear as a cane.


    ¡°Diom!¡± Gwil shouted, thrilled to see that the man looked rather spry.


    But Diom did not hear his call. The old man went right past them to where Cort sat at the edge of the pit.


    ¡°Look!¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°There¡¯s my shoe!¡±


    He ran over and picked it up. The very tip of the toe had been touched by the Kaia explosion, leaving a tiny hole.


    ***


    Cort looked up, annoyed that Gwil had already turned to disturb him. Instead, he saw Diom. The old man¡¯s bones creaked as he sat down with painstaking care.


    Cort readied to catch him in case he toppled over the edge.


    The old man buried his wrinkly face in his wrinkly hands. ¡°You were close with her, weren¡¯t you?¡± Diom wheezed.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cort grunted with some surprise. He had thought Diom incapable of speech.


    ¡°It¡¯s my fault,¡± Diom said, the buzzing sound wavering as his breath quickened.


    ¡°Eh?¡±


    ¡°I think¡­¡± the old man whimpered and shook his head. ¡°Stupid, stupid, stupid. I told her she had to carry all of us. I only meant to give her strength.¡±


    Cort shook his head. ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°She must have thought that committing the ultimate sacrifice would fuel a fire in us. She made herself our martyr.¡± Sobs racked his thin frame.


    ¡°Isca is not dead, Diom,¡± Cort said.


    The old man lifted his head and blinked tears from red and rheumy eyes. He looked at Cort, then down into the abyssal pit, then back at Cort. He raised a wiry eyebrow, an eyebrow so bolstered by disbelief that its arch was as steep as a mountain peak.


    ¡°Dear boy,¡± Diom said. ¡°Don¡¯t let grief drag you into delusion. Cherish her memory, care for it as you would a precious flower, let it flourish. But don¡¯t-¡±


    ¡°Dammit, she¡¯s not dead!¡± Cort yelled.


    Diom shook his head and made to stand. ¡°Please, I can¡¯t stand seeing you like this. Throw me into this pit if it would help you find acceptance. I deserve to be punished.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna do that!¡± Cort barked. He stood up and dragged Diom away from the edge.


    ***


    ¡°What in the fuck¡­¡± Leira muttered. ¡°Why is Cortemius berating that old man? And now he¡¯s manhandling him!¡±


    ¡°Hey Diom, what¡¯s wrong?¡± Gwil said, leaning to look past Cort.


    ¡°He thinks Isca killed herself ¡®cause of some stupid advice that he gave her,¡± Cort said.


    Gwil laughed. ¡°Isca¡¯s not dead.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I-¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s not?¡± Diom said, his eyes wide and sparkling.


    ¡°Definitely not,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Oh, thank the gods,¡± Diom cried. ¡°Thank every god from the sea to the stars.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Cort roared. ¡°Why do you believe him?¡±


    ¡°Because this newcomer is a miracle,¡± Diom whispered.


    ¡°Bu-whu-I,¡± Cort stammered. ¡°Okay. Whatever.¡±


    ¡°Sir,¡± Leira said. ¡°I spoke to Isca after the blast.¡± She pointed at her eyeflower. ¡°With this. She¡¯s alive and well.¡±


    Cort put his hands over his eyes and groaned while Gwil looked at Leira and said, ¡°Really?¡±


    Diom clasped his hands together. ¡°It¡¯s as if you two came from a dream that I never dared have.


    ¡°See, I was a much younger man when Lord Stondemaier imprisoned me. There are none alive among the prisoners who know this, but I once served as Stondemaier¡¯s chief retainer.


    ¡°When dearest Ophelia tragically passed away, Stondemaier was inconsolable. He purged everything, including his humanity. Me and the rest of his closest advisors were detained.


    ¡°We were made to share in the terrible fate that we had imparted upon so many innocents. The prison. The Kaia¡¯s poison. It was¡­ a sobering experience. We¡¯d been affluent, drunk on power, filled with self-superiority. And blind.


    ¡°We came to understand that we deserved it. That we had earned this punishment.¡± He squeezed his eyes closed. ¡°Seventeen years. Only I remain. I took their penitence upon my shoulders. And I swore to myself that I would not die until I could meet my brothers in hell and tell them that I put an end to the suffering that we fostered.¡± Wheezing to catch his breath, Diom smiled, big and toothless. ¡°I knew it was a fool¡¯s hope, but it kept me going.¡±


    ¡°Wow! You sure talk a lot, old man,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I never heard him say two words,¡± Cort muttered.


    ¡°Dammit!¡± Leira squeaked, clamping a hand over her mouth.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tie yourself down like that, Diom,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re gonna need something else to live for.¡±


    With that, Gwil turned and ran.


    ***


    ¡°Gwil!¡± Leira shouted. ¡°Show them how worthless they are!¡±


    He looked at her over his shoulder, a shit-eating grin stretched across his face.


    ¡°What the hell is he doing?¡± Cort said.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, gather them up,¡± Leira said. ¡°We gotta follow him.¡±


    ¡°Fuck that,¡± Cort said. ¡°All these lives on the line and he runs off on a whim.¡±


    Leira turned on him. ¡°You can¡¯t be as thick as you look. Don¡¯t you get it? He brought this godsforsaken place to its knees. By accident. We came here on a whim. He only became a Hallow a fucking week ago. He doesn¡¯t even have an Invoke-¡±


    ¡°That lying bastard!¡±


    ¡°And look what he¡¯s done. He did all this¡ªhelped all of you¡ªjust because he wanted to. No other reason. Lady Ashkana is looking for him. He¡¯s special. And you¡¯re an idiot if you don¡¯t see it.¡±


    Leira had started shouting, though she hadn¡¯t meant to. Many of the escapees had gathered around to listen.


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± Cort groaned. ¡°I see it. I¡¯m not blind. That doesn¡¯t mean he gets to just run off without saying anything.¡± He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s just plain rude!¡±


    They watched as Gwil scurried up the sliced end of the wall. The Kaia blast¡¯s arc had carved a gentle slope that led right up to the top of the wall. Even Diom could¡¯ve scaled it.


    There was no other way they could¡¯ve reached the manor. The explosion had created a path.


    ¡°Or maybe he knows we¡¯re fucked if the way isn¡¯t clear,¡± Leira said.


    Doctor Buzzard appeared beside her elbow, and she nearly leapt out of her shoes.


    ¡°I assure you that this is a worthwhile interruption,¡± Buzzard said. He twisted his goggles. ¡°Is that Gwilym up there? Anyway, you intend to attack the Burgermeister¡¯s manor, correct?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Surely you do not intend to bring all these poor, infirm souls along on such a dangerous endeavor?¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°No,¡± Cort said, raising an eyebrow.


    Buzzard rubbed his hands together. ¡°I have an endless number of tricks up my sleeve, as any genius should. I have constructed a small airship in my spare time.¡± He turned and pointed. ¡°It¡¯s hidden inside that distant butte. I would be happy to fly everyone to safety.¡±


    That stirred the mob of escapees into an uproar.


    ¡°Are you insane?¡± Cort said through clenched teeth. He raised his hands, his fingers bent and twisted, barely restraining himself from wringing Buzzard¡¯s neck.


    ¡°Is it more insane than marching across these barren lands with a horde of sickly people? Through the Stormlands? Potentially for weeks, while assailed by all manner of dangers. Heehee. How did you intend to feed them? Or were you going to eschew responsibility?¡±


    Cort laughed. ¡°That is fucking rich coming from you, you little-¡±


    Buzzard lifted his goggles onto his forehead. Perhaps because of his glowing eyes, it did not have the reassuring effect he might have intended.


    ¡°I deserve some blame, yes,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°But that does not change the facts. These people are dependent on Kaia. Half of them will die without treatment. The rest, a year? I am their only chance. I will bring them to safety right now. Gwilym might be confident, but the World is cruel. Your victory is not assured.¡±


    The mob¡¯s anger simmered down into animated discussion.


    Diom, who still stood nearby, cleared his throat. The phlegmy sound made Leira¡¯s skin crawl.


    ¡°I will not speak for the others as to whether they are willing to accept Buzzard¡¯s aid.¡± Spit sputtered from his dry, cracked lips. ¡°But I can speak for all of them on this: None of us will leave Podexia until the fighting is over, no matter the outcome.¡±


    ¡°Holy hell, Diom?¡± Buzzard said, putting his goggles back on. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re still alive! Does Stondemaier know? I must study your physiology. You are an anomaly.¡±


    Cort climbed up onto a rock and cupped his hands around his mouth. ¡°Listen up!¡±

 Chapter Thirty – Waiting in the Wings

    The sun sank, spitting thin fire across the darkening sky. Storm clouds gathered to the north.


    The stone wall served as a line of division between natural earth and Kaia-born annihilation. To one side, a rocky waste, the World laid bare. To the other, a deep void, like an amputation.


    Gwil slowed down as he neared the end of the wall. The way was unguarded. A grand staircase bridged the top of the wall to the base of the hollow in which stood the manor.


    He crouched and crept up the steps.


    ¡°Ooh!¡±


    Though parts of the gardens were trampled, it was an amazing sight, something an artist could happily spend a lifetime on. The World thrived here, with a vibrance that beggared belief.


    The twisting labyrinth of hedges and shrubbery was difficult to fathom. A forest of exotic trees served as framework, bordering the walls of the hollow.


    An array of statues stood throughout, their bodies tangled in vines, their stone feet planted upon crushed hedges and torn-out roots. The damage was worse along the tree line, where there were piles of dirt and patches of loose soil.


    ¡°Woah,¡± Gwil breathed as he stood up and stepped into the garden. He could see only the manor¡¯s top half over the heights of the shrubbery.


    The smell¡ªthe smell was wonderful. It cleansed the taint of Kaia from Gwil¡¯s nostrils. The first nice thing he¡¯d smelled since that restaurant he and Leira had passed when they first got here. Oh no, we forgot the chocolate fountain!


    The gardens appeared to be empty, so he strolled forward, awed.


    Over a dozen statues were arranged throughout, each unique and strange. Several of the designs were familiar to Gwil, resembling illustrations he¡¯d seen in old books back in Reverie. Most were made of stone, others metal, and a couple were hewn from gemstone.


    The tallest was made of copper¡ªa horse with a very long neck. Gwil wondered how it didn¡¯t topple over. Beside it, a pearlescent elephant with three heads and human arms, wielding a giant hammer. And a solid gold one depicting a muscular man with a beard of serpents and a spiked crown.


    Another was a wide, frog-like body with two human heads, a man and a woman, their mouths frozen in screams, their tongues tied together in a knot. There was a jade woman with an eagle bursting from her chest. A fan-like frill of arms grew from her back, with each hand performing a different gesture.


    These were way cooler looking than Brock.


    Gwil approached the nearest one¡ªa skeleton sculpted from black-veined alabaster. It had its bone arms raised, and they were draped in stone rags with perfectly realized folds. Its ribcage was formed of centipedes. And the face had no mouth or nose, only eye sockets. Two silver spikes stuck out of the holes.


    Gwil leaned in close to examine the maddening detail of the countless centipede legs. One of the arms swung down and struck him on the side of the head.


    His legs buckled and his ears rang. He rubbed his temple, feeling the bones creaking back into place. ¡°Hey, what the fuck, man?¡±


    Gwil scrambled back as the statue raised its leg upright, and then slammed its heel down into the place where Gwil¡¯s head had just been.


    It didn¡¯t seem fair that a being made of stone was so flexible.


    Gwil laughed as he stood up. The skeleton had gotten its leg stuck in the soft soil. He pushed it over as it struggled to extract itself.


    And then his smile melted away.


    All the statues were moving, closing in on him. ¡°Ahhh! They¡¯re all Taluses! I¡¯m so stupid!¡±


    But as they approached, Gwil saw they were not quite like Brock. Their liveliness was not as natural. They moved strangely, limp yet spastic, like poorly manipulated puppets.


    They were encircling him, pushing him back toward the cliff¡¯s edge. And the wall. He had to deal with these things before the others made it up here.


    Gwil dashed forward and slid under the clotheslining tentacle of a squid-like monstrosity that moved by clumsily flailing against the ground.


    He was just trying to get away from the cliff, but if this sorry-looking thing was giving him an opening¡­


    Gwil surged Nirva into his fist as he pivoted out of his slide. He leapt onto the squid¡¯s mound shaped head, landing in a crouch. And then he slammed his fist straight down on the top of the statue¡¯s head.


    Craaack.


    Gwil croaked like a squished toad and fell over onto the ground, clutching his hand. His fingers had been smashed inward so that they reached halfway up his wrist.


    A storm of heavy footsteps. Gwil lunged out of the way of the golden snake-king¡¯s scepter and then rolled under the spindly legs of a spider-bodied centaur woman.


    Making to stand, he bonked his head on her bulbous abdomen and then ran deeper into the gardens. These stupid Taluses were destroying all the nice flowers. What a shame. Brock would never.


    The statues were not very fast, so Gwil took a moment to bend his fingers back into place.


    They were stupid, too. When they caught up to him, Gwil ran back the other way, and eventually began doing laps around the whole garden. Only twice did the statues attempt to cut him off or diverge from the circular path that he led them on. They kept crashing into each other¡ªa few stone limbs had broken off.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Running at the head of this absurd train, Gwil kept his eye on the path that led up to the manor¡¯s entrance. He could¡¯ve made a run for it, but he didn¡¯t want the statues on his tail when he found the sheriff.


    Better to destroy them all, so that they wouldn¡¯t give the others any trouble.


    But he was getting bored of running. He tried a few hit-and-run attacks, but he just couldn¡¯t do any actual damage to stone or metal. Not without beating on it for hours.


    Jumping into the fray was risky too, with the Taluses all packed together, and with so many strange appendages and weapons in the mix.


    As the sky grew darker, Gwil saw something interesting¡ªthin, blue strips of light flickering across the grass.


    Kaia. Of course. That¡¯s how Brock worked, too.


    Gwil scooped up the next broken limb that he passed¡ªa marble arm holding an open book in its hand, which made it hammer-like.


    Light seeped from thin gaps on the surfaces of the statues, revealing panels on their backs. Unlike Brock, the engines that drove these Taluses were hidden.


    Gwil rested his new weapon on his shoulder, Nirva burning so that he could wield the hefty thing.


    He started sprinting, tearing around the garden. The sudden increase in his pace stirred confusion among the clustered statues. They got jammed up on each other.


    Gwil was coming up from behind, about to lap them.


    He leapt up onto the back of the spider-centaur-lady. She twisted around to face him, baring human fangs and insectoid pincers.


    Gwil smashed the book-end of his stone arm down onto the discolored square patch on her abdomen.


    It did not crack or shatter at the impact, as stone would¡¯ve, but crumpled¡ªa sheet of painted metal.


    A puff of acrid smoke, a flash of light, and a sputter of blue sparks. Gwil was flung away by the blast.


    The spider legs spasmed as the animated figure collapsed, carving through the ground as it fell. Licks of Kaia flickered across the demolished engine and then died out as she went still.


    Gwil leapt away as an instinctual vengeance took the statues. Metal and stone bodies slammed against each other, crunching and cracking, but their frenzy made them heedless. They pounded the spider-centaur¡¯s corpse into rubble.


    Gwil took advantage of the jumbled mess and smashed open the engine of the scholarly-looking statue whose arm he wielded.


    The knot of Taluses again lashed out in his direction, but Gwil was too quick for them.


    He grinned. It was very satisfying to destroy these statues, what with the light show and the way they petered out like a windup toy. This would be fun.


    ***


    Of the two hundred-some prisoners, about half would assault the manor. Joining this attack demanded a strength beyond desperate self-preservation.


    And then there were those who wished with all their burning hearts to participate but were unfit because of their feeble condition.


    The escapees governed themselves on this matter. They forced hard decisions upon each other where they themselves were too foolhardy and feverish to think straight.


    Cort paced back and forth through the horde as they made their preparations, barking the occasional order. His eyes flickering from the manor to the black crater to the town and everywhere in between.


    From atop the wall, Limmy flashed him a thumbs up. He had sent her ahead to ensure that the wall was clear.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see him, but I sure can hear him,¡± Limmy screamed down.


    Cort climbed up on a rock to give the assault team a final once-over. Most still wielded pickaxes, but they¡¯d gathered a decent arsenal of spears and clubs.


    Just about ready.


    Brock came rolling over to where Cort stood. Ansoir stuck his head out between the curtains, looking around as if crossing a street, and then he clambered down.


    ¡°I must come with you,¡± Ansoir said.


    Cort stared at him.


    ¡°Leira told me I had to ask you,¡± Ansoir muttered.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that could be a good idea. For you or us.¡±


    Trembling, Ansoir pointed at the manor. ¡°That is my home. You intend to kill my father and butcher my subjects.¡±


    Cort stepped closer and Ansoir cowered beneath him. ¡°Really? You think we¡¯re gonna kill your slaves?¡± He tapped Ansoir under his chin to get the little lord to look at him. ¡°I don¡¯t give a damn what you do. Odds are you¡¯ll die if you come with us. And you¡¯ll probably survive if you stay here.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a bully, Cort,¡± Leira sang as she approached. ¡°Just stay with Brock and you¡¯ll be fine, Ansoir. And don¡¯t fuck anything up or I¡¯ll stab you.¡±


    Diom came hurrying over, his cane tapping, his lame leg scraping. Cort had been watching the man tirelessly hobble around as they prepared for the attack.


    ¡°Lord Ansoir,¡± Diom cried. ¡°It¡¯s really you.¡± He grabbed Ansoir¡¯s sleeve, and the little lord failed to stifle his sneer at being touched by such grubby hands.


    ¡°Do you remember me, my lord?¡± the old man said. ¡°It¡¯s me, Diom.¡±


    Ansoir¡¯s expression actually looked human. ¡°Diom?¡± he said on a heavy breath. ¡°I can¡¯t- You¡¯re alive? I can¡¯t believe it.¡± Tears welled in his eyes.


    ¡°Gods!¡± Diom sobbed. They hugged, Ansoir¡¯s afro threatening to consume the old man. ¡°You¡¯re all grown up.¡±


    ¡°Diom,¡± Ansoir said, covering his face. ¡°My father¡­ Everything is ruined!¡±


    Diom¡¯s face wrestled against his own tears. ¡°Your father was not a man accustomed to tragedy. To lose a light such as Ophelia¡­ He had no capacity to handle such pain.¡±


    Ansoir clenched his jaw and turned on Cort. ¡°Slave!¡± he spat.


    Leira gasped.


    Cort raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Erm, I¨C I apologize,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°B-bad habit. Your name is Cort, yes? Please. My father is not the culprit here. Sheriff Jackson rules Podexia and wields my father as a puppet. Spare his life, I beg you. End the sheriff¡¯s tyranny and Podexia can return¡­¡± His voice trailed as he turned to look at the ink-black chasm that had just yesterday been his family fortune.


    ¡°Your fuckin¡¯ piece of shit father is the whole-¡±


    Leira put her hand on Cort¡¯s shoulder. He looked at her, and she shrugged as if to say, ¡®What¡¯s the point?¡¯


    Cort¡¯s cheek bunched up. ¡°Yeah, alright. I dunno what¡¯s gonna happen.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not for us to decide, Ansoir,¡± Diom said. ¡°We are beholden to the decisions of these men and women, just as we forced them to live at our discretion. We can only greedily hope that they have more compassion than us.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Lord Ansoir,¡± Diom said. ¡°May I accompany you?¡±


    Cort threw his hands up. ¡°Are you fu-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll stay with them, Cort,¡± Leira said. ¡°I can¡¯t use my abilities, so I was gonna stick with Brock, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Cort said.


    Leira clicked her tongue. ¡°Don¡¯t you remember when I did your job and freed half of these people all by myself? I¡¯m spent. All out of juice.¡±


    Doctor Buzzard seemed to appear out of nowhere, causing Leira to jump in fright. Dwillard came lumbering over too.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t help but overhear. Are you in need of a weapon, Megrim Daughter? It would not do for you to face any undue risk. Heehee.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Leira said. ¡°That¡¯s the last thing I want.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense,¡± Buzzard said. He took a long metal tube from Dwillard¡¯s hands. It was covered with knobs and greebles and vents. It had a grip on the bottom middle, and another that looked like a throttle on the side.


    ¡°This is just a run-of-the-mill flamethrower. Stock-standard fire. You won¡¯t sow such ruin with this.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Allow me to demonstrate,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Heehee,¡± he cackled as he pointed the weapon at the sky and cranked the throttle. With a whooshing roar, a stream of fire erupted from the flared end of the tube, climbing five meters above their heads.


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯ll take it.¡±


    Buzzard passed her the weapon. She grinned as she cradled it in her arms.


    ¡°Delightful,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°I shall take my leave. Many preparations to make. Best of luck to you all.¡± He scurried away, walking more with his long arms than his legs.


    Dwillard hung back and leaned in conspiratorially. ¡°If things¡­ go bad, I¡¯ll make sure we rescue the escapees that are staying behind.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Dwillard,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get on with it, eh?¡± Leira said. ¡°There¡¯s a bit of a ticking clock here.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-One – A Spike Through the Heart

    As night approached, the grand stone wall became a bridge.


    One hundred freed slaves marched on the manor. Their skin aglow in the darkness; the air abuzz with their wheezing breaths, frantic for their feverish pace.


    Murmurs of destruction emanated from the hollow cavern ahead. Gwil.


    At the head of the pack, Leira sat in Brock¡¯s palm while Ansoir and Diom rode in the litter. Cort and the other leaders among the escapees moved along below.


    ¡°I thought they¡¯d defend the wall,¡± Leira said. ¡°Especially after the explosion.¡±


    Cort grunted. ¡°Defend what? They¡¯re hiding. Just trying to survive. The Kaia is gone. They have nothing left.¡±


    ***


    Gwil had just destroyed his sixth Talus. His book-hammer had broken. He now wielded an iron stag''s head like a mace, using the antlers as handles.


    As he faced down the remaining few statues, something quivered through them. They went still, turned as one, and began stomping toward the manor.


    Gwil gave chase. The skeleton with the centipede ribs was lagging behind. He especially wanted to kill that one after it had sneak-attacked him earlier.


    He squinted and glimpsed the distorted void that was the Kaia. Since this Talus¡¯s torso was all holey, the engine was hidden within its alabaster loin cloth.


    Gripping the antlers with both hands, Gwil sprinted, spun and smashed the stag''s head through the posterior of the skeleton. Its legs snapped off and its arms clawed weakly at the ground as it spent its last breaths of Kaia.


    The rest of the Taluses had reached the front door of the manor, which had been thrown open to admit them.


    Gwil stopped as a sharp sense drew his eyes up to the roof of the manor. Sheriff Jackson stood at the edge, obscured by the darkness but recognizable by his hat. Suspended beside him in a bundle of ropes was a second figure.


    Unbidden, Nirva flowed into Gwil¡¯s eyes as he strained to see. It stung like alcohol. Once, when he was a kid, Caris had washed his eyes out with vodka after a lizard had spit venom into them.


    Gwil heard the agonized Nirva whispers take up a chant. He saw, not further, or with more clarity, rather something peeled away the darkness to reveal a deeper layer.


    Disparate auras engulfed the two figures.


    There was Jackson. He was painted with earthy hues, browns and tans, composed of twisting coils and bunches of knots.


    And the other man, like a pile of gravel, gray and crumbling. Beaten and battered, head lolling, pudgy body hanging limp. Red-black Yalda¡¯blood seeped through his cracks.


    Littered throughout the garden were traces of the same aura, fizzling from the broken pieces of the statues, like smoldering coals.


    Gwil knew that had to be the Burger, because the Burger loved these rocks.


    Jackson tipped his cap and then beckoned Gwil forward. A shift in the clouds cast a sliver of red moonlight upon his face, illuminating the sheriff¡¯s broken gold smile. He turned away, disappearing into the manor¡¯s embrace.


    ***


    The sounds of fighting within the manor¡¯s cavern had ceased. Cort broke into a full sprint. With a spear in each hand, he hurtled up the stairs.


    And saw Gwil, standing alone near the foot of the manor, surrounded by a torn-up garden and piles of sparkling rubble.


    Cort¡¯s eyes darted back and forth as he approached, but it looked like Gwil had mopped everything up. The rest of his comrades streamed into the cavern.


    Gwil turned and ran toward him.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Cort called.


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°Nothin¡¯. I destroyed a bunch of Taluses¡ªyou would¡¯ve loved it.¡± He made an explosion sound to accompany his hand gesture and then laughed.


    Cort fiddled with his nose ring. ¡°That can¡¯t be all they have for us.¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°The sheriff came out on the roof and told us to come inside.¡±


    Brock rolled up with Leira and the first wave of fighters.


    ¡°Yo!¡± Cort barked, waving his hands over his head. ¡°Get back. Don¡¯t go near the manor. Stick close, everyone.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Gwil,¡± Leira said. She bent over and picked up a little butterfly ornament made of silver and jade. ¡°What is this? It¡¯s so cute!¡±


    ¡°Ah, I bet you can find all sorts of good stuff,¡± Leira said. ¡°I knocked the head off a valkyrie lady. She had a winged helmet.¡±


    Leira breathed in through her teeth and her eyeflower fluttered. ¡°I love valkyries.¡±


    Ansoir exited the litter as if in a trance, wide-eyed and swaying as he surveyed the garden. He went pale as chalk. ¡°Why?¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    They stared at him.


    He grabbed Gwil by the shoulders and shook him. ¡°Why? Why would you destroy the statues?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to!¡± Gwil said. ¡°They¡¯re really cool, but they were trying to kill me.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Ansoir muttered, more to himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. ¡°No, the statues never fight. They can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Mmm, they definitely can,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°What has happened?¡± Ansoir said, staring at the manor. ¡°Father!¡±


    On the edges of the garden, fountains of dirt erupted from the ground. Trees splintered. Flecks of dirt rained down on the fighters like hail.


    All around them, hulking figures emerged from the ground. Blue light shone through clouds of dust.


    Twelve huge Taluses¡ªthese were like Brock. A story tall, two meters wide.


    Speeding on their rolling legs, the Taluses fanned out to encircle the escapees.


    ¡°Fuck! It¡¯s my fault!¡± Gwil and Cort cried in unison.


    Brock¡¯s engine squealed like a dying animal. He reached into the litter upon his head, placed Diom on the ground, and then rolled away.


    ¡°Brock, wait!¡± Ansoir screamed.


    But the Talus was gone, moving at full speed as he zipped around the ring that his brethren had formed. He had his giant hands pressed together as if in prayer.


    The enemy Taluses continued to advance.


    ***


    ¡°They walked right into it, boss!¡± Toothpick shouted. ¡°A hundred of ¡®em, at least.¡±


    Toothpick manned a periscope that could see out into the garden.


    Jackson had just returned to the cavernous throne room. Dragging Stondemaier along the ground, he passed by the host of statues that stood guard.


    ¡°Good. Should be an easy slaughter. The Hallow won¡¯t die. But hopefully they¡¯ll kill everyone else. Don¡¯t feel like dealin¡¯ with none of this liberation bullshit.¡±


    Jackson let go of Stondemaier and watched with a sneer as the grotesque man crawled across the floor like a crippled dog. Frantic murmurs sputtered from his gravel-coated lips as he reached his marble mockery of a wife, who lay in chains on the floor.


    Old Stony rested his head on her chest as the statue of Ophelia lifted her head as much as the chains allowed, just barely nuzzling her forehead against her husband¡¯s shoulder.


    They¡¯d planted a spike two fingers deep over Ophelia¡¯s Kaia engine. It sat right where her heart should¡¯ve been.


    Jackson needed Stondemaier to be nice and cooperative. If a hammer struck the spike, Ophelia would die. Jackson¡¯s man, Bart, stood over her, ready to do just that.


    Jackson shook his head at the twisted union. He gave Bart a fake signal. Bart raised the hammer over his head as if he intended to deliver that fatal blow.


    ¡°NOOO!¡± Stondemaier screamed, throwing his whole clump of a body over top of Ophelia.


    Jackson and his officers howled with laughter.


    Stondemaier dragged himself like a slug to lie at Jackson¡¯s feet. ¡°Please, Teddy, stop this!¡±


    Jackson kicked Stondemaier in the face as he tried to wrap his stunted little arms around Jackson¡¯s legs.


    The sheriff conjured a harness of rope¡ªsturdy enough to hold this rocky lug of a man¡ªand hoisted Stondemaier into the air.


    Jackson squinted, inspecting Stondemaier like he was a muskrat he¡¯d just killed. He felt that same type of pity, too.


    ¡°You¡¯re a real piece of work,¡± Jackson said.


    ¡°The Taluses have sensitive, fragile minds!¡± Stondemaier said. ¡°Have mercy, I beg you. They are like children. This will cause irreparable damage.¡±


    One of Jackson¡¯s men said, ¡°The slaves are gonna suffer some ¡®irreparable damage¡¯ too, when we pound ¡®em into juice.¡±


    ¡°Humans who were born to be slaves are worthless compared to my creations,¡± Stondemaier said. A glint flashed in his disease-ridden, bloodshot eyes.


    Jackson raised his eyebrows and rubbed his chin. It¡¯d been a couple of years since he heard Stondemaier say anything so coherent.


    With a wave of his hand, the ropes vanished. Stondemaier¡¯s sludgy body slapped against the floor. A few flakes of rock chipped off his skin.


    ¡°What a self-righteous, delusional prick you are,¡± Jackson said. ¡°I¡¯m glad I played you like a fiddle for all these years. You deserve to be ripped off.


    ¡°Lemme tell ya something. The fuckin¡¯ mental well-being of your statues don¡¯t matter. As soon as this whole mess is over, I¡¯m gonna kill you and you¡¯ll all die together. Ain¡¯t that nice?¡±


    ¡°Teddy, please,¡± Stondemaier groaned. ¡°We can call the Leviathan for aid. You¡¯re risking too much! There are powerful foreigners staying in the resort. We will be punished for this.¡±


    Jackson kicked the pile of rubble again, this time aiming for the fleshy mouth. Blood sprayed out.


    ¡°Do you even know where you are, you old bastard? How many fuckin¡¯ times do I need to say it for it to stick in your dementia-riddled head?¡± Jackson spat. He shoved his boot into Stondemaier¡¯s mouth. ¡°The Kaia is destroyed. All of it. There¡¯s nothin¡¯ to risk anymore. It¡¯s over. Chateau Podexia is ruined. You¡¯re as good as dead. The only thing the Leviathan¡¯d do for us is fuckin¡¯ vaporize the whole city.¡±


    Stondemaier gagged on his boot.


    ¡°I¡¯m burning everything down,¡± Jackson continued. ¡°There¡¯s only two things I want. One is to make sure those slaves don¡¯t taste a single lick of freedom. And I wanna fight that little bastard and see if I¡¯m supposed to keep living.


    ¡°And here¡¯s what you¡¯re gonna do, Burgermeister. Exactly what the fuck I tell you, that¡¯s what. Otherwise, Ophelia gets a spike through her metal heart. So just control the Taluses and stop pissin¡¯ me off.¡±


    Stondemaier crawled back to Ophelia. Her stupid lips were stuck in a permanent half-smile, which painted this whole scene with an extra bit of madness. Jackson chuckled.


    ¡°What¡¯s next, boss?¡±


    ¡°We hunker down and wait. Whatever few of ¡®em make it inside¡¯ll get butchered by the Taluses in the halls. The Hallow¡¯ll make it here, and I reckon he¡¯ll be real pissed off cause all his people will be dead. Good. That¡¯s how I want him.


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna play this time. He broke the rules with that Erithist shit, and he taught me a lesson. This World has passed on, and it left honor in the dust.


    ¡°I¡¯m too old and too far gone to deal with that shit anymore. We got us¡ªthe old gang¡ªand twenty statues. We¡¯ll fuckin¡¯ mob the kid the moment he runs in and turn him into ground beef.¡±


    The sheriff raised his voice. ¡°Most important of all, we get the hell out of here before the Leviathan shows up. Alright? Now, let¡¯s get the whiskey flowing.¡±


    The men cheered and started pouring drinks.


    Then, Toothpick, still on the periscope, said, ¡°Erm, boss? Trouble.¡±


    ***


    Not one death. Not one death.


    Gwil burst out of the throng, beelining for the nearest Talus. He flooded so much Nirva into his wrists that they became impossible to bend.


    His palms slammed against the Talus¡¯s body. He planted his feet and started pushing with all his might.


    The stone behemoth¡¯s boulder legs churned through the dirt as it tried to push back. But Gwil was winning the contest.


    The Talus flailed its hands at him, but Gwil was in too close for its bulbous limbs to reach.


    It was like pushing an enormously overburdened wheelbarrow. Gwil veered and crashed the Talus into another Talus that had come to try to help its ally.


    Gwil sent some Nirva into his legs so that he could handle the weight of two Taluses. The voices sang their anguished song as his legs chewed through the dirt like a tiller.


    ¡°Argh!¡±


    Gwil¡¯s comrades rushed past him, pouring through the gap in the blockade that he¡¯d created. They spread out across the garden, fleeing the stone monsters. Brock served as the rear guard, fending off his pursuing brethren as best he could.


    Not one death.


    The tremendous weight that Gwil had been wrestling with vanished. He looked over the cliff¡¯s edge.


    Just in time to see the plummeting Taluses explode against the ground. A blue and black cloud enveloped their remains.

 Chapter Thirty-Two – He Loves Us

    ¡°The engines!¡± Gwil shouted as he ran back to the horde of fleeing prisoners. ¡°Smash the engines!¡±


    Cort, Brock, and fifty fighters formed the frontline. Using the space that Gwil had created, they had positioned themselves between the Taluses and the rest of the escapees.


    Fragile humans against ten stone monstrosities. Without Brock, they would¡¯ve already been trampled. He raced up and down the line, throwing himself against the enemies.


    The defenders had adopted a sort of dance that also served as a controlled retreat. Wielding spears and amputated statue limbs, they rotated to meet whichever Taluses were not occupied by Brock. They¡¯d crowd in close to keep the Taluses from gaining any speed, and then fall back, impeding the enemies as much as possible until Brock came crashing through in relief. Then the mob would shift to flow against the other Taluses.


    The conflict drifted like a fallen leaf. The strategy worked in that it kept them alive, but they were losing ground fast, and all the escapees were being pushed back toward the cliff¡¯s edge.


    They defeated one Talus¡ªBrock had punched through its Kaia heart. But nine remained.


    Leira grabbed hold of Gwil as he ran past. Ansoir stood beside her. He had his fist stuffed in his mouth. Blood and tears trickled down his hand.


    ¡°Gwil, remember these are just normal people. Try to make us a path to the manor.¡±


    He nodded and leapt into the fray.


    Brock threw himself on the ground in front of three enemy Taluses, tripping them up and causing them to stomp all over his flailing body as they tried to get past. He¡¯d lost a couple pieces of himself, and the litter had been smashed to bits.


    Cort was doing some serious damage with an absurdly large iron hammer that he¡¯d found on the ground. Gwil recognized it because while he¡¯d been running around with the statues earlier, the elephant-man Talus had dropped that weapon immediately, not from taking any damage, but because it was so heavy his arm had snapped off when he started moving.


    Cort appeared more than fit for the giant weapon. He raised it over his head and smashed the engine of a Talus that Brock was tangling with.


    Cort flew back from the explosion. Gwil went to help him get up.


    Black smog poured from Brock¡¯s joints.


    Not one death.


    Gwil picked up a golden leg and, holding it like a spear, charged one of the other Taluses that was bludgeoning Brock.


    He slid under the stone fist as it slammed down and smashed through the engine¡¯s casing with the toes of the metal foot.


    Seven.


    Nirva rushing like a river, Gwil turned and swung the leg into the engine of the third Talus.


    The Talus partially blocked the blow, and the impact made Gwil drop the leg.


    He jumped in and clung to the Talus¡¯s torso with one hand. He dumped all his Nirva into the other. A hush stole over the whispering voices.


    Gwil¡¯s fingers became like the talons of a dreadful beast, and he plunged his hand through the engine¡¯s casing, grabbed hold of whatever he could, and ripped his hand free.


    Flickering Kaia oozed out, and then a detonation broke apart the Talus¡¯s body and threw Gwil back.


    ¡°Whaaa!¡± Gwil screamed. His hand looked like a candle in a furnace. Liquified bone and flesh dripped like melting ice cream.


    Six.


    Gwil pulled his sleeve over what remained of his hand, trying to prevent more of it from leaking away. Then he tried to help Brock get up.


    But Brock stood on his own, and, rolling and sputtering, pursued his brethren.


    The enemy Taluses were growing wise to the prisoners¡¯ strategy and began spreading out, taking wider angles to try to get around the flank.


    ¡°Yo!¡± Gwil called. He pointed toward the front door of the manor.


    Cort nodded.


    They caught up to Brock as he slammed through the row of Taluses, and then Cort shouted, ¡°Gwil!¡±


    It seemed Cort had forgotten that Gwil only had one hand at the moment, because he tossed him the giant hammer.


    Gwil had also forgotten that he only had one hand. He reached out to catch the shaft of the hammer. The very hefty thing crushed his foot. He squealed and hopped up and down, clutching it.


    Cort, waving his arms like a maniac, screamed at the rest of the escapees, ¡°Run! Get to the manor!¡±


    Brock had knocked two Taluses over; they lay stuck on their backs like turtles.


    As Gwil dragged the hammer along, he wondered how Cort wielded it so easily. He put all his Nirva into his left arm so that he could lift the tremendous weight, which caused the mangled one to start gushing blood again.


    Gwil spun, using the momentum of the hammer¡¯s head, and obliterated the engine of one of the fallen Taluses.


    At the same time, a group of prisoners swarmed the other and mashed its engine with their pickaxes.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    But the remaining four Taluses had broken through and were amidst the mob of escapees.


    Chaos. They fled like ants from beneath an overturned stone. Cort was still shouting about the manor and the door.


    Gwil left Cort¡¯s hammer on the ground and picked up a trident, which he could handle more easily with one hand.


    Cort and the other fighters were forcing their way toward the manor.


    Gwil jumped up onto the nearest Talus¡¯s head and smacked it with the trident, then leapt away as it tried to clobber him.


    He landed on the head of another one. ¡°Wow! The Burger really fucked you guys over. I guess he doesn¡¯t love rocks that much.¡±


    Gwil knew that wasn¡¯t true¡ªthe traces of Nirva told him as much. But he thought it might piss them off.


    It did. All the Taluses forgot about the prisoners and rushed toward Gwil. Brock was right on their heels, lopsided by a lamed leg. His engine spat sparks and smoke.


    ¡°Go away, Brock!¡± Gwil yelled over his shoulder as he ran back to buy his comrades more space.


    ***


    Cort slammed against the manor¡¯s front doors. He gripped both handles, rattled the lever, and then tried to shake the doors off their hinges. The wave that was his fleeing comrades crashed into him, smushing him against the door.


    Leira appeared underfoot, having crawled through the legs of the mob. ¡°Move. You¡¯re doing it wrong,¡± she said, pulling herself up.


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing it wrong!¡± Cort grunted. ¡°It¡¯s locked!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so polite!¡± Leira yelped. ¡°Bust it down.¡±


    Cort adjusted himself to try to get better leverage and, in that moment, heard a thunderous stampede on the other side of the door.


    ¡°Move!¡± he screamed. He threw his arms out wide and plowed through the crowd to drive them out of the way.


    The doors flew open, and statues poured forth. Not big utilitarian ones like Brock, but fancy, ornate sculptures.


    They marched in ranks, like soldiers, but some wrongness afflicted them. They stuttered and spasmed. Twenty, thirty¡­ more.


    Most escapees had spilled out to the sides, but a few fell in the path of the statues. Others tried to drag their comrades out of danger.


    Not one death. ¡°No!¡± Cort screamed.


    He ran into the fray, scooping up two fallen prisoners and tossing them out of the way.


    Brock came charging in, his huge body crashing through the van of the statues before collapsing in their midst. The statues wriggled their way out from under him like cockroaches.


    They crawled over him, beating him with weapons and fists. More and more black smoke billowed out.


    ¡°STOP!¡± Ansoir screeched, running past Cort. ¡°STOP! PLEASE STOP!¡±


    Cort went after him, gagging on the fumes. Ansoir had thrown himself across Brock¡¯s body, his floofy afro bouncing around at the violence of his retching.


    The statues were frozen except for their raised arms, which sputtered mid-attack, as if wrestling against some force.


    Leira and Limmy ran around screaming, directing the scattered prisoners into the now wide-open manor.


    Cort gasped. These things could not attack Ansoir, the heir of Podexia.


    He grabbed Ansoir under the arms and brandished him at the horde of statues like a warding talisman, using him to give the prisoners passage into the manor.


    ¡°Brock! Get up! Please get up!¡±


    As Cort positioned himself in the manor''s doorway, still swinging Ansoir around, he watched Brock try.


    Grimacing, Cort looked away from the fallen Talus to scan the emptying field, hesitant to fully focus on the carnage, terrified at the prospect that they¡¯d betrayed the promise to Isca. But he had to know.


    His heart sank at each glistening puddle of blood that pocked the path. But there were no bodies. Not one death. How? This is impossible.


    Everyone had made it inside except for Gwil. And Brock. The enemy statues piled around the doorway like a flock of feeding pigeons, unable to move against Ansoir.


    ***


    Jackson stomped on Stondemaier¡¯s face.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t they touch your piece of shit son?¡±


    Stondemaier lifted his crumbling head. ¡°See, Ansoir has a¡­ difficult personality. And he tends to treat everyone quite poorly. Knowing this, and knowing that my creations are not without temperament, I have always engendered them with an innate inability to harm my son.¡±


    The sheriff stomped on him again. ¡°Turn it the fuck off or I kill Ophelia.¡±


    ¡°I can only beg that you kill me first,¡± Stondemaier said.


    ¡°Argh!¡±


    ¡°Teddy,¡± Stondemaier rasped. ¡°We should call the Leviathan for aid.¡±


    Jackson laughed, then chugged the rest of his whiskey and slammed the bottle down on Stondemaier¡¯s face. ¡°Someone get this invalid geezer out of my sight before I kill him and destroy our army. Not that it¡¯s worth a single damn, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir,¡± Bart said as he dragged Stondemaier away.


    ***


    Night had fallen. The Martyr¡¯s Wound shone bright, spitting crimson light across the gardens.


    As Gwil danced around with the remaining three Taluses, he realized he was alone in the gardens. Thanks to the light shining through the open manor doors, he could see that his comrades had made it inside.


    A horde of statues was amassed at the entrance, but it looked like Cort and¡­ Ansoir? were somehow holding them at the threshold.


    Gwil smiled as he saw it, written in the Nirva that drove the Taluses. They would not harm the son of the man who loved them so. They would not hurt their brother.


    And then he saw Brock in that pile, struggling, leaking Kaia.


    Gwil sprinted forward, and the Taluses chased after him. He spotted a broken pillar lying along the path to the entrance.


    He repositioned the pillar, then got it rolling ahead of him and used it to plow through the legs of the gathered statues.


    Gwil reached Brock, reinforced his wrists, and started pushing. His reforming hand was soggy and bloated, like pasta left too long in the water, but the bones had grown back.


    The statues gave him a terrible beating. He hunched his shoulders up and lowered his head beneath his arms. Metal and stone cracked against his back¡ªa merciless barrage.


    He kept pushing. Ethereal vapor streamed from his skin as his Nirva blazed against the damage. A tingling numbness stole through his spine. His vision doubled, turned into swirling soup. Turned black.


    Gwil kept pushing.


    Their attacks landed like so many hammers, clapping like thunder against Gwil¡¯s bones. One of the Taluses struck his elbow, and his arm went dead. He pushed with his shoulder.


    He could feel Brock¡¯s piddling attempts to help. And then Brock¡¯s body scraped against a hard surface instead of soft dirt.


    The assault on his body ended. Gwil collapsed.


    His head swam through a storm-churned sea of Yalda¡¯blood. Prismatic foam capped the waves. Countless faces floated in the water, like a school of fish. They screamed in perfect harmony.


    ¡°Stay right there, Ansoir,¡± he heard Cort say. ¡°Don¡¯t move a single fucking millimeter.¡±


    Gwil¡¯s limp form was scooped up and cradled in strong arms. He recognized Leira¡¯s touch on his cheek, cool and soothing. He saw only her eyeflower, abloom against the bloody sea.


    ¡°Is Brock okay?¡± That was Ansoir. ¡°Is he okay?¡±


    Gwil¡¯s eyes flickered open and he winced at some blinding bright light above.


    Gwil turned his head at a thumping sound and saw Brock lying beside him. The Talus was pounding his fist against the floor with the steady rhythm of a drum.


    Gwil sat up and Leira hugged him to her chest to keep him upright. He felt her fingers raking through clumps of blood in his hair.


    Then she clutched him by his cheeks. ¡°Gwil, are you okay? Can you hear me?¡±


    Gwil saw Ansoir standing in the door, looking over his shoulder at Brock. The little lord was smiling. Gwil thought the smile suited his absurd afro better than his usual sneer.


    ¡°Buzzard can fix him up,¡± Gwil tried to say, but he heard himself and it sounded like, ¡°Blerwgwarhugn.¡±


    He raised his arms over his head and arched out his back until it cracked. Sensation flooded through his body. He stretched out his jaw and flicked his tongue around. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s better.¡±


    Leira smiled, and the lotus bud in her eye twitched.


    Gwil¡¯s stomach grumbled like a feral demon. A few of the escapees looked over, likely thinking some wild beast had appeared.


    ¡°Woah,¡± Gwil said, swaying with lightheadedness. ¡°I¡¯m hungry.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Three – A Feast Before the Storm

    Gwil stood up.


    ¡°Wohohugh.¡± And then fell down.


    ¡°Hey, is my brain sticking out anywhere?¡± he asked Leira, who had sort of caught him.


    Her fingernails tickled across his scalp as she checked over his head. ¡°Oh, no!¡± She clamped her hand over her mouth. ¡°Gwil, I can see inside your skull.¡±


    His eyes widened. ¡°Oh, no!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s pitch-black inside, completely empty save for a few cobwebs.¡±


    Gwil laughed, and that made his stomach rumble. ¡°I¡¯m starving.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I could eat,¡± Leira said.


    Cort, who was pacing around, positioning the fighters throughout the manor¡¯s entry hall, leaned down and hissed, ¡°We¡¯re in the middle of a raid on an enemy stronghold.¡±


    ¡°So what?¡± Gwil said. ¡°We have Ansel.¡±


    Ansoir still stood in the doorway with thirty-some frenzied statues bearing down on him. He turned at the mention of his name and Gwil gave him a thumbs up.


    ¡°What are they gonna do?¡± Gwil said. ¡°The statues are useless against us. All they have left is a few normal people and the sheriff.¡± He raised his voice. ¡°I bet everyone is starving, and I bet they¡¯ve got real good food here.¡±


    Some excited chattering broke out at that.


    ¡°Mmm,¡± Leira said. ¡°They probably have gourmet chefs. We¡¯ll make ¡®em cook for us¡ªat knifepoint if we have to.¡±


    ¡°Leira!¡± Gwil said. ¡°We didn¡¯t get to go to the restaurant.¡±


    ¡°Erm, well, I did, actually. I went to four of them.¡±


    Gwil groaned and clutched his stomach. ¡°C¡¯mon, Cort. It¡¯s important that we eat this bastard¡¯s nice food.¡±


    Cort waffled his head back and forth while scowling. ¡°Ansoir. Where¡¯re the kitchens?¡±


    He pointed down the hall without turning around. ¡°That way. Just past the dining hall. I must say, I¡¯m famished myself. I¡¯ve not eaten since breakfast.¡±


    ¡°Go fuck yourself,¡± Cort said.


    Gwil hopped to his feet. ¡°I¡¯ll bring you something, Asnel.¡±


    Leira whistled. ¡°This place is nice.¡± She ran her finger along the jade trim set in the wall¡¯s midpoint.


    The entrance hall was three stories tall. A big, glitzy crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. A grand marble staircase ran up to a landing lined with bookshelves and statues.¡±


    ¡°Shit, are those alive, Ansoir?¡± Cort asked.


    ¡°No, no,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°My father doesn¡¯t give sentience to the statues that will only serve as decorations. That¡¯d be a boring life.¡±


    ¡°You could fit half of Reverie in here,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Huh? What¡¯s¡­ that, Gwil?¡± Leira said, softly and slowly.


    Gwil didn¡¯t hear her, because at the same time, he¡¯d asked, ¡°How many people live here, Ansoir?¡±


    ¡°Just myself and my father, of course,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°Oh, right, and thirty-some slaves.¡±


    Cort kicked at the inside of Ansoir¡¯s ankle and grabbed his shoulders. ¡°Keep your stance wide,¡± he barked. ¡°And your arms up.¡±


    ¡°My muscles are aching,¡± Ansoir whined.


    ¡°Yeah? Well, imagine how pissed off I¡¯ll be if you let the statues through and use that as motivation.¡±


    Leira glared at the horde of statues. ¡°Huh. I wonder why they don¡¯t just break through the wall.¡±


    Cort gasped.


    ¡°Ahh, why would you say that, Leira?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I think we¡¯re safe from that, actually,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°Their critical thinking abilities are lacking, and their problem-solving skills are rudimentary. They often get stuck like this.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not staking our lives on some mumbo-jumbo rock psychology,¡± Cort said. ¡°I¡¯ll stay here. Just don¡¯t take too long. Dammit, Gwil, why¡¯d you leave my hammer out there?¡±


    Gwil started marching down the hall. ¡°C¡¯mon everyone! Let¡¯s go eat!¡± His words triggered a stampede as the escapees rushed down the hall. He called back to Cort and Ansoir. ¡°I¡¯ll bring you guys something really good.¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Leira caught up to him. ¡°Gwil, the other end of the manor is like a giant cave. I came to a party here last night. But that¡¯s where the Burgermeister hangs out. And the sheriff too, I bet.¡±


    ¡°Cool,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I¡¯m gonna waste them both after we eat.¡±


    Gwil gasped upon entering the dining hall. All this space just for eating. The floor was tiled with red-veined onyx. Glowing Kaia orbs lined the walls. There were six long tables, already set with white tablecloths, gleaming golden plates and cutlery, and glistening crystal glasses.


    The prisoners had seated themselves like guests at a perfectly normal but very rowdy dinner party. They were banging on the tables, smashing plates, and guzzling wine out of the bottles that had been set out.


    They laughed like they didn¡¯t have a care in the world, and their eyes glittered as much as anything else in the room.


    ¡°Oooh!¡± Gwil yelled.


    Little robots wheeled between the tables, carrying wine and champagne and water and juice and bread and assortments of hors d¡¯oeurvres. Gwil saw little fish bites and egg things and stuffed mushrooms.


    ¡°What the hell!¡± he yelled.


    ¡°I know!¡± Leira said.


    Gwil ran up to a robot, scooped a little sandwich from its tray, stuffed it into his mouth, and then picked up the robot.


    It had a balancing mechanism in its head that kept the tray upright, but the robot did not seem to enjoy being picked up. Its little wheeled legs spasmed like a frightened animal. Gwil set it back down.


    He went to poke at its stomach, but the robot ignored him, bumping into his leg until he allowed it to move past.


    ¡°Aw man,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯re kind of rude.¡±


    Leira was eating these breaded ring-shaped things which she¡¯d stacked onto each of her fingers. She tried to say something, and then swallowed and tried again. ¡°I don¡¯t think those little guys have anything like minds. They can¡¯t do anything besides their jobs. They¡¯re more like tools than animals.¡±


    Gwil snatched up two trays and brought them to an open spot at a table.


    ¡°There are robots that can talk and stuff though,¡± Leira assured him as she sat down.


    ¡°What¡¯s crazy is the food is even better than the robots,¡± Gwil said through a mouthful. ¡°Do you think those little things are cooking this stuff? We should steal a couple.¡±


    Cheeks bulging like a squirrel, Leira nodded as she popped open a bottle of champagne.


    ***


    ¡°I can¡¯t fuckin¡¯ believe they¡¯re eating dinner,¡± Jackson said, cackling. ¡°That kid is somethin¡¯ else! I¡¯m half-tempted to let him run riot across the World and watch the shitshow.¡± He took a big swig of whiskey. ¡°But scratching my chopper, that¡¯s unforgiveable. And destroying the Kaia, too. That pissed me off a lot. Stondemaier!¡±


    ¡°Looks like he¡¯s asleep, boss,¡± Toothpick said.


    So he was. Jackson went to stand over the pile of rubble. Stondemaier slept with his head on the chest of his farcical wife. Ophelia tracked Jackson with her lifeless stone eyes. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and loosed a piercing whistle.


    Stondemaier¡¯s gravelly body crackled as he twisted around in panic. His eyes flickered open, and they were even duller than Ophelia¡¯s.


    Seeing such pitiful cluelessness made the sheriff wanna get violent.


    ¡°Alright, Stony, this has gone on long enough.¡± He turned to Bart and said, ¡°Give me that hammer.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Bart said.


    Jackson raised the hammer. ¡°If you don¡¯t make it so those fuckin¡¯ statues can squash your son like the insect he is, she dies. Three¡­¡±


    Stondemaier set his jaw. Crazy old bastard.


    ¡°Two¡­¡±


    ¡°One¡­¡±


    Stondemaier¡¯s jaw burst open like a dam, and he started hacking up bits of rock. ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    The cracks in his scaly skin began to glow.


    ¡°Aye, that¡¯s what the fuck I thought,¡± Jackson said. ¡°That little idiot ain¡¯t worth a damn.¡±


    ***


    Cort sat at the foot of the stairs; head bowed between his legs. He smiled at the lively clangor echoing down the hall.


    ¡°Erm, Cortemius?¡± Ansoir said. ¡°Might I implore you to come hold my arms up?¡±


    ¡°Eh? Did she put you up to-¡± Then Cort rushed him.


    Ansoir turned at the sound of his footsteps and yelled, ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡±


    Cort dove and tackled him to the ground.


    The horde of statues poured into the manor, with three of the big Taluses bringing up the rear. The door frame collapsed as they burst through.


    Cort covered himself and Ansoir as much as he could, but really, he was just preparing to be beaten to death. Too many. No escape.


    But the statues rushed past them, frenzied as horses on the whip. They scattered down the hallways and up the stairs. The big ones demolished the paths that were too narrow to accommodate them.


    Cort sat up. Not a single Talus remained in the entrance hall, though the entire manor shook at their rampage.


    Ansoir sobbed as he brushed off his jacket.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, and then he began scratching his tongue with his fingernails as if trying to scrape off the word. ¡°I thought we were dead.¡±


    ¡°Same,¡± Cort said. ¡°And I was pretty pissed at myself for coming to save you.¡±


    ¡°Why did they attack me? Oh, gods. Does that mean my father is dead?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t he a Hallow? Bringing those things to life is an Invoke, yeah?¡±


    Ansoir nodded.


    ¡°Then he¡¯s obviously not fucking dead,¡± Cort said. ¡°Or the statues would¡¯ve died with him. Use your head for once.¡±


    Ansoir began tamping down sections of his bulbous afro, deep in thought. ¡°Well, the Taluses get very antsy when they cannot complete a task. I expect the order they¡¯re following is something simple like, ¡®kill the escaped slaves¡¯ or ¡®end the uprising.¡¯ My father has lost his capacity to issue more complex orders on such a large scale. My best guess is that they are desperate to find the bulk of you slaves and ignored us, since there¡¯s only two of us.¡± He gasped. ¡°The sheriff must be torturing my father¡ªthat¡¯s what happened!¡±


    Madness was devouring the manor. Screams, crashes, shattering glass, as constant as a waterfall. A lot of the Taluses had gone toward the dining hall.


    Cort was about to go charging after them, but no. Gwil will have things under control. He needed to cover their bases and see the things that Gwil would miss.


    ¡°Where are they? The sheriff and your father.¡±


    ¡°The throne room, definitely,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°It¡¯s very well fortified. Please, you must understand¡ªthe sheriff is the one that needs to be stopped. My father is completely out of his mind. He¡¯s old and sick. His sole desire is delighting that heinous abomination of my mother. Her greatest joy in life was throwing splendid parties, you see, so that¡¯s all he does, as if trying to stoke a spark in that stone mockery. Though I must say-¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up, man,¡± Cort said. ¡°I don¡¯t care about your familial problems. Your father controls the Taluses. That needs to be addressed. One way or another.¡±


    Ansoir crawled over to where Brock lay, still sizzling with Kaia and leaking noxious smoke.


    His pulse thumping in his ears, Cort pressed his palms against his temples. The World was like a big cairn that had been stacked by an idiot¡ªfragile, full of vulnerabilities. And everything that happened affected everything else. One loose stone could topple the whole thing.


    ¡°That¡¯s it. I¡¯m getting my hammer.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Four – Let Them Eat Cake

    ¡°Oh shit!¡± Gwil spilled his spaghetti on his lap as he leapt out of his seat.


    No one heard the noise because of their partying. But Gwil saw their essence through the wall.


    A horde of Taluses was marching down the hall.


    ¡°Get out of the way!¡±


    Everyone scrambled as Gwil flipped over the table nearest to the entrance. The tabletop was a sturdy slab of marble.


    A few of his comrades helped Gwil push it to block the door. There were a lot of statues, maybe fifty. Hopefully Cort and Ansoir are okay.


    ¡°Wait, I have an idea.¡± Gwil snatched a pickaxe out of someone¡¯s hands. Flaring Nirva, he slammed the axe down on the joint of the table¡¯s thick, pedestal-style leg. The wood splintered, and a second swing fully snapped the leg off.


    ¡°Get the other tables,¡± he shouted. ¡°Break off all the legs!¡±


    If they stacked all the marble slabs together, they¡¯d have a formidable barrier.


    His companions piled themselves against the slab as the statues thundered closer. Gwil pulled himself up the table¡¯s edge to look through the gap at the top of the doorframe.


    He¡¯d meant to get a better look at what they were up against and received a metal fist to the jaw. Gwil spat out one of his teeth, wondered if it would grow back, reached into the throng and started swinging the pickaxe in a mad flurry.


    Amidst a storm of chipped stone bits, the Taluses pounded against the barrier. Cracks were forming.


    ***


    ¡°I can help with that,¡± Leira said. She twisted the knobs on her flamethrower to the low end and then aimed at an empty space.


    Twisting the throttle unleashed a narrow beam of crimson fire. It burned a hole right through the wall. Leira scribbled her name as a smoldering cutout in the wall as easily as she¡¯d write it on a piece of paper.


    That bastard. Buzzard had definitely understated the capabilities of this weapon.


    Leira shooed the escapees away from the table they¡¯d been carrying and had them crouch behind it to both shield themselves and keep it upright.


    She sheared the leg off like she was cutting a block of cheese and then moved to the next one.


    They created a hasty sort of assembly line. When Leira finished with the first table, a group of the escapees carried it over to the door and positioned it against the first one. Just in time¡ªa piece of that one had broken off, and statue limbs were reaching through the hole.


    A different group brought her the next table, and in less than three minutes, they¡¯d stacked all six slabs in front of the doorway.


    Gwil, who was lying on top of the stack, jumped down. His face looked like a raisin, all purple and swollen.


    ¡°Okay,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll hold them here. You all run.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you! We ain¡¯t running!¡± yelled Limmy.


    Leira smiled. She liked Limmy. The woman had green lips and wore hoop piercings in her eyelids, and she didn¡¯t take any bullshit.


    ¡°We¡¯re here to kill or die!¡± shouted someone else.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mean run away,¡± Gwil said. He took a spot alongside the others who were pushing against the barrier and added his strength to theirs. ¡°I mean go run wild! Tear this place down. Go find a car and drive it up that big staircase.¡±


    The escapees cheered and went off to raise hell. Some went through the door on the other end of the dining hall, others burst through the crumbling section of the wall that Leira had burned¡ªwhich led outdoors¡ªand a few went through the swinging doors that led to the kitchens.


    The only ones who remained were those who held the barrier with Gwil. The statues pounded against it, an unending clap of thunder.


    ¡°Get outta here guys,¡± Gwil said to them.


    ¡°Are you crazy? You go. We need you to fight.¡±


    ¡°Go kill Burgermeister Jaqlov and that cowboy fucker.¡±


    Gwil¡¯s grin was small against his swollen cheeks, though the swelling was already subsiding. Leira could see the healing actively happening.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But these statues come first.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°Actually, Gwil,¡± Leira said. She held up her flamethrower. ¡°I think I have an idea for this little problem.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You all clear out¡ªyou saw what Leira did to that big drill machine.¡±


    They scurried away and Gwil shifted himself to better cover the barrier. Leira swallowed against a foul taste and cranked up the knobs on the flamethrower.


    ¡°Leira, what¡¯d you think of Doctor Buzzard?¡± Gwil asked as he watched her fiddle with the device, nonplussed by the furious pounding at his back.


    ¡°That he¡¯s a dangerous asshole,¡± she said. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ I think he really wants to fix everything, but there¡¯s just so many problems that it makes him crazy. He¡¯s too smart.¡±


    Leira laughed. ¡°He did offer to look after all the escapees earlier. Kind of.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Gwil said. ¡°Phew. I was worried about that. I don¡¯t wanna deal with so many people. It¡¯s way too much responsibility. Hey, what are you gonna do with that fire-spitter? Won¡¯t it be a bad mix with the Kaia?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m banking on,¡± Leira said. ¡°The engines don¡¯t have that much Kaia in them, and it''s refined, so I don¡¯t think the explosion will be too big, but it should be enough to fuck up the statues.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, don¡¯t worry,¡± Leira said. ¡°You and I won¡¯t get killed by something silly like that.¡±


    ¡°Huh? I wasn¡¯t worried. I was just asking.¡±


    Leira poked her tongue out, squinting to read the numbers and labels and gauges. Truth be told, none of it meant anything to her. She¡¯d just cranked everything up all the way.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s ready,¡± she said. ¡°But it¡¯s probably not safe to test it, so let¡¯s just go for it.¡± She gestured for Gwil to get up. ¡°Let me stand on your shoulders.¡±


    He stood and planted one hand against the barrier. With the other, he helped her climb up. She steadied herself and then pulled herself up to look over the barrier.


    ¡°Oh shit, that¡¯s a lot of statues.¡± Some were headless, a smoke spewed from others. They were like livestock crammed in a pen, going berserk as they awaited the slaughter. ¡°Perfect.¡±


    Leira adjusted herself so that she could crouch behind the marble and use it as shielding. She held the flamethrower over her head, aimed it, and twisted the throttle.


    An inferno worthy of the Seventh Hell was unleashed.


    Leira¡¯s eyeflower withered and curled inward. Her hair sizzled.


    Perhaps the Taluses had some sense of self-preservation, because they stopped pounding on the barrier. Leira clenched her teeth as the searing heat scalded her hands.


    The flames roared like a horde of demons. The wall surrounding the door caught fire.


    A flicker of silence marked the first Kaia detonation. Chunks of the ceiling collapsed. The blaze devoured the hallway.


    ¡°Leira!¡± Gwil shouted.


    She ignored him, ignored the white-hot knives flaying her hands. Just a little longer.


    Debris fell on them and whips of fire lashed out. The successive spells of silence were maddening¡ªeach a false reprieve dangled and then snatched away, like having her head repeatedly dunked in water.


    She could not breathe. The World was a pendulum, swinging between nothingness and destruction.


    Gwil staggered beneath her as the flame-engulfed wall crumbled. Only then did Leira release the throttle.


    Gwil caught her in his arms and dashed away as the ceiling fully caved. They crossed to the far end of the room.


    All the Kaia lights in the dining hall had shattered. The firelight cast the room as a hellish place.


    Gwil laid her down on the floor and wrapped his fingers around her wrists.


    Her hands were screaming red and glistening, covered with bubbling and burst blisters. Browned blood and pus dribbled over ruined skin.


    Gwil scrunched his face up. ¡°Oh, Leira, what¡­¡± he trailed off. His grip tightened around her wrists, and she felt a pins-and-needles sensation.


    It took a moment for her to realize that he was trying to heal her. It doesn¡¯t work that way, Gwil. She couldn¡¯t bring herself to say it, but she didn¡¯t need to. He knew. He was trying anyway.


    Jaw quivering, Leira shook her head and made the crumbly lotus bud twitch. ¡°Once this thing blooms, I can weep an ointment. I¡¯ve had worse burns. It¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you let me do that?¡±


    Leira shrugged. The movement made her lose the fight against the weepiness that was wrenching at her face. Tears seeped out of her squeezed-shut eye, and she made a noise that was half-laugh, half sob. ¡°I didn¡¯t think of it!¡±


    The fire¡¯s roar had diminished to a persistent crackle cut through with crashes.


    Gwil brushed the hair out of her face. She heard the burnt strands crinkle. Ashy bits dusted her nose.


    ¡°I wish one of us had,¡± he said.


    ¡°Yeah, you idiot!¡± And then she couldn¡¯t stop wailing. ¡°It really fucking hurts!¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s some cake on the floor over there. Would that help?¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± she whimpered.


    ***


    Gwil went to get her the cake, but first he peeked down the hall. It had been turned into a flaming canyon of ruin, flooded with mounds of burning rubble. A thick column of smoke poured into the dining hall.


    He crouched to look up into the ceiling. The three floors above had all crashed down. But the manor¡¯s stone skeleton stood strong against the fire.


    Pocking the piles of rubble were strange circles of evisceration, clean-cut and perfect. Those wounds were glassy and black, completely empty¡ªtiny whispers of the crater that Isca had made of the mountain.


    Statue limbs stuck out at odd angles all throughout. None so much as twitched.


    He went back to the fallen cake and shoveled it back onto the platter. As Gwil fixed up a tray of hors d''oeuvres for Cort and Ansoir, a smoldering ceiling beam slammed down beside him, and he decided he¡¯d better hurry.


    Balancing the two trays, he brought the cake back to Leira.


    Gwil set it down next to her and, despite her injuries, Leira plunged her hands into the three-tiered cake and began stuffing her face.


    She nodded at him and said, ¡°¡¯Oo ¡®av some tuh.¡±


    They were both grabbing handfuls of the giant cake and cramming their mouths full. It had more layers than Gwil could count¡ªchocolate, nuts, whipped cream, normal cream, fruit.


    ¡°¡¯Oly shuh,¡± he said. ¡°¡¯O gud!¡±


    Leira nodded and then started laughing, which sprayed flecks of cake from her mouth. That made Gwil laugh and do the same.


    He wiped his hands off on a nearby tablecloth. The dining hall, with its stone floor, mostly resisted the fire, but flames were crawling across the ceiling toward them.


    ¡°How are your hands?¡± Gwil asked.


    With a loud gulp, she managed to swallow. ¡°The icing is really soothing,¡± she said, holding up her caked hands.


    Gwil watched the fire as Leira wiped her face off on the tablecloth¡ªshe left her hands sheathed with icing.


    ¡°I think we¡¯d better go to the kitchens,¡± he said. ¡°Some of the others went that way, but I think the fire¡¯s gonna spread there.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± Leira stood and poked Gwil in the chest. ¡°I¡¯ll kill that stupid scientist. I swear I will.¡±


    ¡°I dunno,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re the one who keeps destroying stuff.¡±


    Leira laughed. ¡°It was more fun with statues than people, at least.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Five – Come With Me

    Gwil picked up the tray of hors d''oeuvres and they crossed the burning, smoke-filled dining hall.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Leira said. ¡°If the statues came for us, do you think that means Ansoir is dead?¡±


    ¡°No way,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Cort was with him.¡±


    They heard voices coming from the kitchens. Leira pushed the door open for Gwil and he almost dropped the tray upon seeing thirty people inside.


    About half were escapees, but there was also a gaggle of people that Gwil didn¡¯t recognize. They weren¡¯t guards¡ªmost wore fancy black dress clothes. A few had white mushroom hats.


    ¡°Gwil! Flower lady!¡± the escapees cheered.


    The kitchen was full of metal tables and stacks of cooking-related implements. The lights were still on in here, and it was very bright with the white tile walls and all the polished surfaces.


    The strangers, who Gwil had deduced were servants of the manor, sat huddled on the floor, surrounded by the escapees. They had not been bound or beaten, so that was good.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Gwil said as he entered. ¡°You guys know there¡¯s a big fire out there, yeah?¡±


    Limmy stepped forward. She had an array of kitchen knives slotted into an apron that she wore over her jumpsuit.


    ¡°Aye, we know it,¡± she said. ¡°But we found these folks hiding in here.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re liberating them,¡± a man called.


    ¡°Shut up, Jerruh,¡± Limmy hissed. ¡°You were tryna kill them at first.¡±


    Jerruh grinned a nasty grin. ¡°Oh, come on, we were just getting acquainted. And that was before I knew they were slaves, too.¡±


    ¡°I stopped anyone from getting violent, Gwil,¡± Limmy said, hands on her hips. ¡°After seeing what you did for that little bitch lordling, I thought you¡¯d be mad if we hurt them.¡±


    ¡°Nice,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t kill them.¡±


    ¡°They kind of look like hostages,¡± Leira said, pointing with her cake-covered hand.


    A mushroom-hatted lady cried out, ¡°We¡¯re scared! You¡¯re all about to get killed. You blew up the Kaia for fuck¡¯s sake! The sheriff is going to flay all of us in the town square.¡±


    ¡°Ooh! You guys cooked all the food! Thanks!¡± Gwil said.


    Leira sucked some icing off her thumb and gave the kitchen staff a thumbs up.


    ¡°Earned ¡®em some points with me,¡± Jerruh said.


    ¡°Damn,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I was hoping the robots cooked it.¡±


    ¡°Gwil, they don¡¯t even have arms,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°You guys are free though,¡± Gwil said to the cooks. ¡°Chateau Podunk is no more.¡±


    ¡°Is Burgermeister Jaqlov dead?¡± one of them asked.


    Gwil scratched his head. ¡°It looks like it¡¯s headed that way.¡±


    ¡°Who cares?¡± Leira called over her shoulder. She was washing her hands off in a sink. ¡°This kitchen is literally about to go up in flames.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, if you stay here, you¡¯ll just die, so don¡¯t be so wimpy.¡± Gwil stepped into their huddle and pulled two people up onto their feet. He gestured for the others to stand. ¡°Limmy, take care of these people¡ªno matter what.¡±


    Limmy cracked her knuckles. ¡°You can count on me.¡±


    Leira came back to the group, now wearing a pair of oven mitts. ¡°What other parts of the manor can we get to from here?¡±


    ¡°Just about everywhere,¡± a chef said. ¡°There¡¯re service hallways that go throughout the whole manor.¡±


    ¡°Even to the caves with the throne room?¡± Leira asked.


    The chef nodded.


    ¡°Go find the others,¡± Gwil told Limmy. ¡°I think a lot of them went outside, but they could be anywhere.¡±


    ¡°We can help you find your way,¡± said a tuxedoed waiter.


    Gwil placed his hands on Limmy¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You can¡¯t let anyone die.¡±


    ¡°I know it,¡± she said. She broke away from him and barked, ¡°Follow me, people! If anyone dies, you¡¯ll have me to answer to, so don¡¯t.¡± She grabbed the servant who¡¯d spoken up and shoved him out in front.


    They all fell in line behind Limmy and marched through a different set of doors at the far end of the kitchen. Gwil and Leira brought up the rear.


    ¡°The cave is at the other end?¡± Gwil asked.


    Leira nodded. ¡°But we should check on Cort and Ansoir.¡±


    They entered the service halls¡ªempty, with rough stone walls and intermittent Kaia lights hanging from the ceiling. Black bits of dust flitted about the glowing globes, playing tricks with tiny shadows.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Their comrades went off to the right. Gwil and Leira went left, back toward the entrance hall.


    ¡°The sheriff¡¯s the one to get, Gwil,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if Ansoir¡¯s father even knows what decade it is.¡±


    ¡°He built this place, Leira. To me, that¡¯s unforgivable. But it doesn¡¯t matter what I think.¡±


    ***


    After getting only a little bit lost, Gwil and Leira made it back to the manor¡¯s entrance hall, finding it heaped with ruin. The marble staircase lay in broken chunks and the balcony to which it led had collapsed.


    The fire hadn¡¯t spread here yet, but it still stank of smoke. Dust hung thick in the air, and their feet crunched over bits of glass and wooden splinters as they crossed the room.


    Ansoir nearly jumped to the ceiling upon hearing their approach.


    ¡°What the bloody hell happened?¡± he squealed. ¡°I thought you¡¯d all gone for dinner. My manor is on fire! I almost got crushed by the chandelier.¡±


    The crystalline absurdity had crashed down and shattered into a million glittering pieces. Its bent framework was tragic in the way it clung to its last few jewels.


    ¡°It was an eyesore anyway,¡± Leira said.


    Gwil handed Ansoir the tray of hors d''oeuvres and then went to kneel beside the fallen Talus. ¡°Alright, Brock?¡±


    He managed a nod.


    ¡°Good,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We¡¯ll be back soon. Come on, Ansler. We need to hurry.


    Ansoir whimpered in response. He had set the tray down to chew on his fingernails.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Cortemius gone?¡± Leira said, looking around as if he might pop out from a pile of rubble.


    ¡°That insolent scumbag abandoned me here! I haven¡¯t a clue where he went. More importantly, have you two seen Diom? We got separated when the Taluses came. I thought he must have gone with you to your little banquet, but¡­¡± He resumed biting his fingernail.


    Gwil and Leira exchanged a look. Diom hadn¡¯t been in the dining hall with them.


    Leira picked up a deviled egg¡ªwhich had some small splinters of wood in its filling¡ªand stuffed it into Ansoir¡¯s mouth. Then she clapped him on the back and said, ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯s fine. Can you tell us how to get to the throne room through those service halls?¡±


    Ansoir sneered with such disgust that it pulled him out of his fretting. ¡°The service halls? I¡¯ve never stepped foot in that maze. It¡¯s filthy.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re coming with us,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°What?¡± Leira said. ¡°Uh, Gwil?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not just gonna keep hiding here,¡± Gwil said. ¡°This is your home, Antler. You won¡¯t be able to live with yourself.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Ansoir, you imbecile. Ansoir. I¡¯d spell it for you if I believed there was even a chance that you¡¯re literate.¡±


    Leira cackled.


    ¡°There, see?¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re all fired up. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t want to leave Brock,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°And I need to find Diom. He must be a hundred years old. He can¡¯t be wandering around on his own. The fire¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re crazy if you think they want you to sit here and chew your fingers off,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Right, Brock?¡±


    Brock nodded again.


    ¡°Alright, yeah,¡± Leira said. ¡°It¡¯s time for a brand-new Ansoir.¡± She grabbed Ansoir¡¯s shoulders with her mittened hands and steered him toward the service hall.


    Gwil followed and called to Brock, ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Leira shoved Ansoir through the door and then slammed it shut, closing him inside. He started pounding on the door, shouting things like, ¡°You dirty-blooded slaves!¡±


    ¡°Gwil!¡± Leira hissed. ¡°He¡¯s gonna get killed.¡± She pointed at her withered eyeflower. ¡°Remember, I can¡¯t fight or do anything to protect him. You were supposed to be protecting me!¡±


    ¡°Cort will be there,¡± Gwil said. ¡°If Ansoir doesn¡¯t do this, he¡¯ll be whiny and broken forever. And I¡¯m gonna trash the sheriff this time, so it doesn¡¯t matter. I know his tricks, and I think I have a good one of my own.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re gonna make Ansoir watch you kill his father?¡±


    ¡°I hope not.¡±


    ¡°Whatever you say¡­¡± Leira opened the door. ¡°Sorry, Ansoir, I slipped. The door got stuck.¡± She held up her oven mitts. ¡°I¡¯m injured.¡±


    ***


    Cort hawked up some rancid phlegm and spat as he jogged around to the back of the manor, his great hammer resting on his shoulder. There was an equipment yard back there, and a big warehouse. He reckoned he might find something interesting. They sure as hell needed it.


    He knew Gwil would just run in¡ªheadfirst and blind as a bat. That was the height of foolishness. Anyone with half a brain would¡¯ve recognized that they were playing right into the sheriff¡¯s hand.


    Scratch that¡ªif any of them had any brains at all, they would¡¯ve been satisfied with getting free and destroying the Kaia. They would¡¯ve taken the win and gotten the hell out. And they sure as shit wouldn¡¯t have gone double or nothing.


    Yet here we are. They didn¡¯t really have a choice, did they? You don¡¯t maim a beast and then give it time to lick its wounds. Not a beast that had made you watch as it massacred your brothers and sisters. The debt was far from paid.


    Dammit. Cort spat again. This is madness. He didn¡¯t know what Isca saw in those two, but he felt it.


    That idiot just kept marching forward, and they¡¯d all fallen in behind him without a second thought.


    Isca. She didn¡¯t have a choice either. Everyone is a puppet, pulled by strings they can¡¯t feel, dancing to music they can¡¯t hear.


    Cort tried to take the World for what it was: a shitstorm of chaos. It wasn¡¯t enough to just tip the scales. He¡¯d smash them, and the table they stood on, too. What else was a big hammer good for?


    He heard voices and slowed down.


    Cort spotted them through the trees. A few of the escapees were messing around with a fountain in the gardens. He shook his head. They were swimming in the pool. They were goddamn frolicking.


    What a shitshow. His comrades were running wild all over the place, with no direction at all. Half the manor had burst into flames, for fuck¡¯s sake.


    Cort came to the unfinished half of the manor that housed the throne room and ran his hand along the rough stone as he made his way around. There were no windows, just a few sturdy, garage-style doors made of thick metal. But he had an idea brewing. He intended to make quite an entrance.


    When he reached the edge of the manor, the warehouse came into view. He hurried along, but as he crossed the clearing, Cort got the sense that he was being watched.


    He whipped around and glimpsed movement within a cluster of hedges.


    Definitely a Podexian. A prisoner wouldn¡¯t hide from him. Cort hoisted his hammer and barreled toward the bushes.


    ¡°Good heavens, stop! It¡¯s me!¡±


    Cort stuttered to a halt and pulled the branches back. ¡°Diom! What the hell are you doing? Get out of there.¡±


    Cort helped the old man extract himself from the thicket. He was covered in leaves and little scratches.


    ¡°Leave me be, Cortemius,¡± Diom said. ¡°I must speak with Burgermeister Stondemaier. I must honor the wishes of my dead friends.¡±


    ¡°Argh! My name¡¯s not fu-¡± Cort grabbed Diom and threw him over his other shoulder. ¡°This is the second time I¡¯ve had to stop you from killing yourself, you stupid old man.¡±


    Cort grimaced at how frail Diom felt, like an empty grain sack. The old man pounded his weak fists against Cort¡¯s back and flailed like a fish on a hook.


    ¡°You¡¯re too young to understand,¡± Diom wheezed. ¡°I am glad to die for this cause.¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Cort said. ¡°You¡¯re not allowed to die yet. Get a taste of freedom before you keel over.¡±


    ¡°I will never be free!¡± Diom cried.


    That was a knife in the gut. Cort stopped and set Diom down on the ground. ¡°Dammit, would you calm down? I¡¯m gonna bring you to Jaqlov.¡±


    ¡°You are?¡± Diom asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s where I was headed. But I¡¯m not stupid enough to walk in there with nothing but hope and a plucky attitude. Fucking hell. I¡¯m surrounded by lunatics.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Six – Knock, Knock

    ¡°Oh, merciful Tartarus,¡± Cort said. ¡°This is better than I hoped.¡±


    They¡¯d broken into the warehouse. Standing before them was an excavator tank that made the one from the mines look like a child¡¯s toy.


    It had huge conical drills on both ends, like a twin-headed stag beetle. Bladed grinders lined the sides. The tops of the treads were level with Cort¡¯s chest. The whole thing was a gnarled mass of destructive instruments.


    ¡°I¡¯d keep your excitement in check,¡± Diom rasped. ¡°It might not be operational.¡±


    Cort ran his finger along one of the blades. ¡°Nah, she¡¯ll operate the hell out of that little castle.¡±


    However, the tank was undoubtedly a work in progress, or more likely an abandoned project. The flaw of note was that it did not have a hull. All its guts and mechanisms were exposed.


    The framework was mostly complete, but with no plating, it was like a skeleton with no flesh. Cort thought of the dune runners favored by desert raiders.


    ¡°And you were preaching to me about being reckless,¡± Diom said with a wheezy chuckle. ¡°The young never realize how lucky they¡¯ve been. It¡¯ll hit hard when you learn you¡¯re not invincible."


    Cort wasn¡¯t listening to the old man. He¡¯d stuck his head into the innards of the excavator to marvel at the mess of circuitry and whatever else.


    As he removed himself, his shirt caught on something. A piece broke off and fell clattering into the bowels of the tank.


    Cort grimaced at Diom. ¡°At least it¡¯s unlocked.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be crushed by falling rocks,¡± Diom said.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna slap a roof on it,¡± Cort said, looking around the warehouse. Power tools and pieces of scrap metal were scattered all over the place. ¡°You check on the Kaia engine. You know how to do that?¡±


    Diom wheezed. ¡°Watch yourself, boy. I¡¯d been working on these machines for decades by the time you were born.¡±


    ***


    ¡°I can¡¯t see, dammit,¡± Cort said. ¡°Twist yourself around.¡±


    ¡°Twist around?¡± Diom laughed his broken-glass laugh. ¡°Do you know how old I am? Do you know how crooked my spine is? I¡¯ve swung a pickaxe more times than you¡¯ve drawn breath. Twist around¡­ Bah!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s great,¡± Cort said. ¡°But I still can¡¯t see.¡±


    Diom had gotten the engine working, which was a relief. But the tank was, unfortunately, a single seater.


    It was actually a blessing that the hull was uncovered. Cort¡¯s shoulders stuck partway out of the cockpit, and he would not have fit at all without that allowance. Diom was only able to sit on Cort¡¯s lap because he was half withered away.


    ¡°Maybe you should let me drive,¡± Diom said.


    ¡°How would that work?¡± Cort snapped. ¡°Just keep your head out of my face.¡±


    Cort had attached a¡­ serviceable roof to the top of the tank. It consisted of three layers of sheet metal and about a hundred screws. In his defense, they were in a big fucking hurry, and he didn¡¯t know what he was doing.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± Cort said. ¡°We¡¯re not actually digging a tunnel, just busting through a wall.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything,¡± Diom said.


    ¡°Dammit,¡± Cort muttered under his breath. He tapped the makeshift roof for good luck. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m gonna be pissed if Gwil gets there before us. Hold tight, old man.¡±


    Cort pressed the ignition button.


    The tank shuddered as the engine whined and chugged and glugged, belching smoke from a bouquet of exhaust pipes. After a long moment, something caught.


    The tank roared to life. Pistons pumping, valves hissing, meaningless gauges spinning¡ªa symphony of madness.


    Cort cranked two of the shifters, pressed the pedal with his foot, and the thing stalled, accompanied by an ear-splitting grinding sound.


    Diom adjusted one of the shifters that Cort had pulled, and the cacophonous sound gave way to a steady purr of ruthless mechanical goodness.


    The tank lurched forward, faster than he¡¯d been expecting. Before Cort had the chance to try to slow down, they¡¯d plowed through the warehouse¡¯s garage door like it was a piece of paper.


    ¡°It¡¯s working!¡± Cort shouted over the noise. His skull buzzed with the vibrations.


    Cort fought with the steering lever, sending them swiveling out of control, but he wrangled it after a minute. He could see where he was going at least, thanks to all the gaping holes.


    They rumbled through the yard, smooth as could be. The manor was right up ahead. Isca would¡¯ve been happy with this.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Cort hit the accelerator.


    ¡°Slow down!¡± Diom said. ¡°And don¡¯t go to the door. I know the best spot.¡± He pointed toward a depression in the back of the building. ¡°Get the drill spinning.¡±


    ***


    Gwil tore through the halls, his boots splashing through sludgy puddles. The lights swung overhead, sending their shadows spinning.


    ¡°You¡¯re going the wrong way!¡± Leira called, gasping for breath. ¡°Gwil, stop!¡±


    She couldn¡¯t keep up with his speed, nor his maddeningly poor sense of direction. He took every turn and threw open every door.


    Leira knew they¡¯d already come this way three or four times. They¡¯d been running for ages. This manor was not even that big!


    She clutched at a stitch in her side¡ªshe¡¯d eaten too much for all this running¡ªand slowed down. Ansoir had been behind her, shouting and complaining, but she couldn¡¯t hear him anymore.


    Leira took a moment to realize that they¡¯d escaped the concrete service halls and emerged in the caves.


    Gwil stopped and Leira crashed into his back. He caught her by the arm to keep her from falling over.


    At the end of this passage, illuminated by a globe of light, was the vault-door that led into the throne room.


    Was that only yesterday that I was in here? Fucking hell.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Gwil said. He crouched down. ¡°My shoe¡¯s untied.¡±


    ¡°Are you serious?¡± Leira hissed.


    Gwil fixed her with a look. ¡°I don¡¯t want to trip and fall.¡±


    They heard Ansoir coming before they saw him, his footsteps clapping through the echoey tunnel. He reached them and doubled over, huffing and puffing.


    ¡°I¡¯d¡­ been¡­ trying¡­¡± He paused to catch his breath. ¡°To tell you where to go the entire time! And warn you¡­ about the door. How do you intend to open it?¡±


    Gwil scratched at the top of his head. ¡°Yeah, that is a nice door.¡±


    He went right up to the door and stared at it as if it were some unfathomable puzzle.


    Leira hung back, fear prickling her neck. Surrounded by stone, she thought of how they¡¯d been ambushed by the Taluses. She moved through the tunnel, her fingers brushing the rough wall, and felt certain that a horde was about to erupt from within.


    A tremor ran through her fingers, seeming to confirm her fears. She leapt back. ¡°Gwil!¡±


    ¡°I hear it,¡± he said.


    No shit he heard it. In an instant, the inaudible rumbling had warped into violent shaking. Dust and bits of rock crumbled out of the ceiling.


    ***


    ¡°Right there!¡± Diom said. He pointed at a crevice in the rock face with a timid finger, lest it be shredded by the deathtrap of the tank¡¯s exposed machinery.


    Cort maneuvered to line the drill up.


    ¡°That¡¯s a wall of the throne room,¡± Diom shouted, leaning back so he could yell in Cort¡¯s ear. His flabby cheeks were flapping with the tank¡¯s rumbling. ¡°They¡¯ll be right there.¡±


    Cort cranked the drill up to full speed, and then clenched his teeth and feathered the accelerator.


    With a screech, the blurred tip of the drill made contact with the wall. Cort floored it and then raised an arm against the hailstorm of rock shards.


    ¡°Ease back!¡± Diom rasped, flailing his hands. ¡°Let it bite first.¡±


    ***


    Sheriff Jackson stood with his thumbs through his belt loops, watching as cracks formed in the wall. He spat out his lip of chew and then cheeked a fresh one. The sockets of his knocked-out teeth tingled at the fresh nicotine.


    ¡°Un-fuckin-believable.¡±


    His men ran around the throne room, panicking, taking up positions, barking orders at each other and at the Taluses.


    The sheriff just stared at the wall. The dark orange light of sunset leaked through the cracks.


    It didn¡¯t much matter what all the boys did. Only one fight mattered. Fate has eyes for titans, not insects.


    Jackson was surprised at how badly he wanted to live. Surprised, and a little disgusted. When I was a boy¡­


    Pa was a bandit. A shit one. A good for nothin¡¯ lout without a speck of ambition. Dumb as a brick. One day, Pa stole from the wrong folks.


    It was Pa, some local moron he¡¯d been working with, and me, all of seven years old. We were camping out in the woods when those wrong folks came hunting. It was sunset. Always fuckin¡¯ sunset.


    Those men that came for us were scary. Real killers. They worked for the local baron.


    Before they even showed themselves, a bolt ripped through what¡¯s-his-name¡¯s throat.


    I guess they knew Pa was a joke, ¡®cause they walked right up and sat down with us around the fire. They laughed and drank our booze and ate our food.


    I told Pa that he needed to fight. At least bring someone down with you. Don¡¯t die sitting on your ass. Even animals have more respect for themselves than that.


    Pa knew he was dead meat no matter what, but that sad motherfucker still begged for his life, all blubbering and snotty.


    He even offered me up to them as a slave. The sack of shit wanted to cling to his sorry life that damn badly. He didn¡¯t have anything that was worth half of a shit, anyway. What the fuck was he so desperate to save?


    They cut Pa¡¯s throat after they finished eating. He died whimpering. Then they killed me. They weren¡¯t assholes about it. They made it quick. Just professionals doing their job. Taking out some trash.


    Seven years old and I died with disgust burning a hole in my gut.


    Then I woke up. And I killed those scary men with my bare hands.


    The sheriff laughed as the drill pierced the wall.


    ***


    The tank burst through.


    ¡°Bahaha!¡± Cort cackled, though he couldn¡¯t hear himself over the havoc.


    Cort looked around as they plowed over the rubble. The tank slammed down on the ground, and some hopefully inconsequential component broke loose and fell into the blender of gears.


    He counted something like fifteen Podexians¡ªit was hard to tell ¡®cause they were all running around like maniacs. And there were a lot of goddamn Taluses.


    The statues stood between the tank and a big metal door at the other end of the cavern. Idiots. What would you have done without me?


    Cort floored the accelerator and Diom activated the tank¡¯s grinders.


    The drill minced a headless valkyrie into little bits. The first two rows of statues got mowed down as easy as a scythe chops wheat. Cort turned his head at a blood-curdling screech.


    He saw the sheriff standing on an elevated platform in the middle of the room and¡­ Shit, is that really Stondemaier? Cort had heard talk that the Burgermeister was disfigured, but that looked more like a slug made of rock than a person. Ansoir had kind of undersold the situation.


    The rest of the statues fled from the tank as they pressed toward the vault door.


    A massive rope appeared overhead and then its thick coils untwined and snared the drill. Cort laughed at the futility¡­ but the drill began to sputter and stall. Ethereal flames flickered along the ropes.


    The tank slowed to a crawl.


    Cort froze up. His heart sank.


    But Diom grabbed the shifter and threw the tank into reverse. They went careening backwards, and the rear-mounted drill struck the platform, destroying a chunk and forcing the sheriff to leap away. The ropes went slack and then dissolved as the drill ripped them apart.


    It sure was tempting to run the tank up there and grind all those fuckers into pulp, put an end to this whole damn mess right now. But truth be told, Cort wasn¡¯t too sure about the tank¡¯s chances against Jackson. Hallows were tricky bastards.


    Diom shifted the tank back into drive and they surged toward the door.


    ***


    ¡°What the hell is going on?¡± Ansoir whined.


    Gwil, Leira, and the little lord all had their ears pressed against the vault door.


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil yelled. He grabbed both Leira and Ansoir around their waists and leapt away.

 Chapter Thirty-Seven – Diminutive Crescendo

    The drill punched through the vault door and twisted it into a knot. There was a flash of Kaia and the screech of torn metal.


    The tank wound up flipped on its side, ensnared by jagged, curled slivers of the ruined door. The drill had snapped off and dangled as if hanging by threads. Blue sparks flickered through the blooming cloud of smoke.


    Still carrying Leira and Ansoir under his arms, Gwil held his breath and approached the tank. A grin cut through his grimace.


    Cort and Diom lay in a heap beneath the crumpled frame of the tank. They were both conscious and appeared to be bickering with each other.


    Gwil dropped Leira and Ansoir next to them and then ran into the throne room.


    The cavern was as black as the night sky, glittering with stars¡ªobsidian sprinkled with gemstones. At the center of the room, a golden dais.


    Sheriff Jackson stood there with his hat lowered over his face, flanked by a pair of his flunkies.


    Gwil slid under two thrown spears and then bounced back up, his Nirva swelling, the voices rising with it.


    He waded through carnage¡ªbroken limbs and split stone faces. Kaia oozed from their bodies and spread across the floor to form a putrid swamp.


    The statues that could still move had become deranged. A stone horse with no front legs pushed its torso along the ground like a plow. The many-armed jade statue danced, heedless of her surroundings.


    Gwil kept his eyes on the sheriff. The man had not even looked up yet.


    Strange movements on the edge of his vision pulled Gwil¡¯s attention. If not for the eyes, he would not have recognized the thing as human.


    A petrified mound, with the droopy shape of a melting body. Besides the eyes, a toothless slit of a mouth was the face¡¯s only feature. Irregular chunks of stone sprouted from the gray flesh like a fungus. The heap lay in the arms of a too-real, too-perfect statue of a woman. The Burger.


    Gwil sank his Nirva into his legs and then jumped toward the dais.


    The sheriff snapped to attention, a broken grin splitting across his face. He conjured a web of jagged silver ropes around the dais.


    Gwil landed with his hands and feet in the rungs of the net, but even as he tried to steady himself, he was slipping off.


    Landing on his back, Gwil looked at his hands. They¡¯d been shredded¡ªhis palms looked like cherry pie filling. The ropes Jackson made were like razor wire.


    Like parting curtains, an opening formed in the net, and a mix of Podexians and Taluses poured out. Stone fingers gripped Gwil¡¯s ankle as he tried to scramble away. The crawling statue lurched forward and pinned him down beneath its weight.


    A heavy blow blasted the wind from Gwil¡¯s lungs, and the statue exploded into pieces.


    Cort leapt over Gwil and engaged the Podexians, opening with a bone-crunching sweep of his giant hammer.


    ¡°I think that knocked one of my ribs back into place,¡± Gwil said, coughing as Leira helped him up.


    Jackson raised his fist and whistled. Cort grappled with a pair of Podexians as the group retreated to the other side of the net. Blood splashed to the ground as the razor-rope gave Cort a nasty slice on his forearm.


    ¡°Well, well, well,¡± Jackson said. ¡°What in the seven-legged donkey demon of Cocytus have we got here?¡±


    Gwil threw himself at the conjured barrier again, but the gaps in the net shrank so that he couldn¡¯t fit his hand through. The voices in Gwil¡¯s head loosed a collective gasp as Nirva flooded his tattered hands.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be damned, Ansoir,¡± the sheriff continued. ¡°Ain¡¯t a sliver of a chance I¡¯d have ever bet that you had the guts to wrap yourself up with these animals.¡± He clapped his hands together twice. ¡°Well played, you spineless bitch.¡±


    Ansoir whimpered and crouched down.


    ¡°Ansoir?¡± said a voice like scattering gravel. Stondemaier Jaqlov¡¯s milky eyes rolled in his crumbling face. ¡°Ophelia? Is Ansoir here?¡±


    The female statue rubbed his back while staring at the ground.


    Leira tugged at Gwil¡¯s sleeve. ¡°That¡¯s Ansoir¡¯s mom,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gwil mouthed back.


    ¡°Call him ¡®lord¡¯, Theodore, you damned ingrate,¡± Diom said. ¡°He is your superior.¡±


    Jackson and his comrades laughed. ¡°In what fuckin¡¯ capacity is this slimy wuss my better? Who the hell is this half-dead skeleton?¡±


    Stondemaier groaned and slumped, drooping over the edge of the dais. He dragged himself down to the floor. ¡°D-Diom? Is that you? My oldest friend is alive? My friend! Ophelia, my dear, do you see? Is this a dream?¡±


    Ophelia climbed down and helped Stondemaier draw himself upright, shaping him like clay.


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s me,¡± Diom sputtered. ¡°Oh, Stondemaier¡­ what have you done to yourself?¡±


    Stondemaier oozed out of Ophelia¡¯s embrace and made to pull himself through the net.


    The fool was going to dice himself into pieces. Gwil dashed forward and plunged his hand into the razor thicket to shove Stondemaier away. The Burger fell like a sack of rocks.


    Diom turned and put his hands on Ansoir¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me? I¡¯m so sorry.¡± Ansoir hugged him.


    Jackson laughed like a hyena. ¡°Fuckin¡¯ hell! I don¡¯t believe my eyes. Diom, you survived in the mines for two goddamn decades? Lucky sonuvabitch.¡± He laughed again. ¡°Well, would you call it lucky?¡±


    Diom stepped in front of Ansoir. ¡°I would now, yes.¡±


    ¡°Woo, boy!¡± Jackson shook out his soldiers and started pacing atop the dais. ¡°Y¡¯all have really shot some life into this thing. ¡®Spose I should¡¯ve expected some craziness from people willing to set billions of doubloons on fire.¡±


    Gwil patted down the torn strips of flesh on his arm. He felt sick to his stomach at all of this. Sensing the sheriff¡¯s gaze, he looked up.


    ¡°I wish you would¡¯ve just killed me instead of making me watch all that cash go up in smoke. What a fuckin¡¯ waste.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I will,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Aye,¡± the sheriff said, shaking his head. ¡°Now we¡¯ve gotta fight for scraps like two starving dogs.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Ropes spawned and curled around Jackson¡¯s underarms. He swung forward and landed on the floor right in front of Gwil. Only the net separated them.


    Gwil sent Nirva into his fingers and started trying to rip the ropes apart. Cort was slamming his hammer into the net, but it went rigid, sturdier than any metal.


    ¡°Settle down,¡± Jackson said, unflinching. Ropes sprouted from his fingertips and coiled around the net, and those strands were ablaze with translucent, prismatic flames. The sheriff bared his teeth, sweat streaking down his face, his neck bulging.


    Every blow of Cort¡¯s hammer bounced away with a metallic clang. Gwil¡¯s hands began to burn, and they were shaking when he pulled them away. Jackson was pumping a huge amount of Nirva into the net.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get your fight,¡± the sheriff said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I wanna know, too. Which of us fools will the fickle World favor?¡±


    Cort bellowed and slammed his hammer against the shimmering barrier. The ropes there splintered, creating a momentary gash before they reformed.


    ¡°You should know you¡¯re dead,¡± Cort said.


    Jackson shrugged and packed a lip of tobacco. ¡°You should learn not to count your chickens too early. You look stupid as hell when you¡¯re wrong.¡±


    ¡°You would know,¡± Leira chimed in.


    Jackson made a face at her and then moved to stand over Ansoir, who knelt on the floor with Diom. Stondemaier was just on the other side of the net.


    The sheriff spat tobacco juice into his afro. Ansoir either didn¡¯t notice or didn¡¯t care.


    Stondemaier babbled while clawing at his body, scraping off bits of gravel. Ophelia stood over him, trying to keep his hands at bay.


    ¡°Two baby-back bitches,¡± Jackson said. He kicked the Burger in the face and then looked back at Gwil. ¡°I can¡¯t figure you out, kid. You turn this little kingdom into ash, and you take this worthless brat under your wing? Ain¡¯t he exactly what you came here to destroy? What the fuck is it you¡¯re trying to accomplish?¡±


    ¡°This is disgusting,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Eh?¡± the sheriff said. ¡°C¡¯mon, tell me. Are you Vermin? Just some idiot playin'' hero? You think you¡¯re Prothea or¡­ or Enkai the goddamn Giver?


    ¡°You¡¯re doin¡¯ a bloody piss-poor job of that, let me tell you. If you¡¯re tryna help these slaves, you wouldn¡¯t have destroyed all the Kaia. Fuckin¡¯ idiot. Those insects could¡¯ve gotten rich. Fuck¡¯s sake, they can¡¯t even live without the stuff anymore. Buncha dead men walkin¡¯. But that¡¯s freedom for ya, ain¡¯t it?¡±


    Leira clicked her tongue. ¡°Kill this guy, Gwil. What a shit-eating asshole.¡±


    Gwil just kept staring at the sheriff.


    ¡°I hate delusional bastards like you,¡± Jackson continued. ¡°Acting all righteous while you do more harm than good.¡±


    Gwil shoved his fingers into the net and felt the muscles in his shoulders rip as he pulled.


    Jackson butted his forehead against Gwil¡¯s, baring his teeth. Spittle flew from his mouth as he screamed, ¡°You fuckin¡¯ animals don¡¯t even deserve the dirt. I¡¯ll string y¡¯all up by your guts and make you watch as I butcher every single fucking slave! Goddammit, shut up!¡±


    The ropes in Jackson¡¯s hands reformed into a cluster of rearing serpents. Gwil ducked as they lashed out.


    He needn¡¯t have done so. He was not the target.


    A fountain of blood spewed out of Diom¡¯s neck. His wizened, feeble hands went to his punctured throat.


    Gwil gritted his teeth at the blissful expression on the man¡¯s face.


    Ansoir lowered Diom to the ground. Leira appeared and pressed a bundle of cloth over the gushing wound. Cort unleashed a barrage of hammer strikes against the barrier.


    The Burger wailed and wailed. He¡¯d been struck too; a rope had speared the molten flesh of his shoulder. Jackson yanked the rope, and the lump of a man slumped over. Ophelia was beside herself, stuck with her placid smile.


    Ansoir rushed the net, but Gwil caught him and threw him back.


    Not one death. Gwil launched himself into the net. His flesh be damned, he¡¯d force his way through the tiny holes. Pop.


    And then Gwil was on the sheriff like a rabid demon. He crashed into Jackson¡¯s face. The man staggered back and then fell over.


    Gwil made claws of his fingers and began slashing Jackson¡¯s nose like an animal digging a hole. A river of blood rushed over Gwil¡¯s feet.


    ***


    Catatonia had Ansoir in its clutches.


    Leira clawed at the roots of her withered, dormant eyeflower. ¡°Bleed, you wretched thing, bleed!¡± she screeched through clenched teeth.


    The Megrim flower could exude a sap that staunched bleeding. But the bereft thing cared nothing for her pleas.


    ¡°Fucking help me, Cort!¡± she cried. The fool was still attacking the cage with his useless hammer as if mundane strength was worth a damn.


    ¡°Where did Gwil go?¡± he shouted back.


    ¡°Who cares? He¡¯s not the one bleeding from his neck!¡±


    Cort stomped over. ¡°Look. Jackson is being ripped apa-¡±


    ¡°Shut up and hold this,¡± she said, nodding toward the cloth. Her blood-sheathed hands shone like rubies. Diom¡¯s weak fingers fluttered against her grip.


    Cort shook his head. ¡°You can¡¯t. Let him go.¡±


    She slapped him in the face.


    Diom reached toward the net. Stondemaier reached back with a stubby, rocky limb.


    Cort took Diom under the arms and moved him closer.


    ¡°No! Idiot¡ªdon¡¯t move him,¡± Leira yelled, but she did not try to stop him.


    She shoved her fingers into her eye socket and locked them beneath the flower¡¯s bulb. Roots tugged at the inside of her face as she wrenched at the greedy, hollow sliver of the dead goddess Megrim.


    Ansoir crawled along behind Cort.


    Diom¡¯s eyes bulged from his chalk-white face. He sputtered and gagged; blood bubbled from his mouth. Cort adjusted the soaked crimson cloth.


    ¡°Stondemaier¡­ this¡­ is no way to live,¡± Diom said.


    ¡°My friend,¡± Stondemaier groaned. ¡°Ophelia, wake me up, please!¡±


    ¡°You¡­ we¡­ deserve this,¡± Diom said, choking on every word. ¡°Punishment. Ansoir?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here, Diom.¡±


    ¡°A new¡­ life. Never¡­ too late.¡±


    Diom grasped at the empty air in front of his face, as if clinging to his fraying threads.


    Ansoir caught the old man¡¯s hands and clasped them. He could not speak, and words were weak, so he nodded.


    ¡°Ophelia!¡± Stondemaier screamed.


    The silver net dissolved into mist. Jackson¡¯s underlings surged forth to overrun their battered foes. With spears leveled, they screamed their charge.


    A dozen men, eight-and-a-half statues. Cort raised his hammer and met them.


    ***


    A hand as big as Ansoir¡¯s red skimmer came crashing down on top of Gwil. Fingers as thick as tree trunks closed around his body.


    He went flying through the air and then bounced against the ground a few times before skidding to a halt.


    Gwil scurried further away even as he got back on his feet, fleeing from the massive creature that had just struck him. He had no idea what was happening¡ªhe was surrounded by towering objects.


    And then he registered Sheriff Jackson, looming over him, as tall as a building.


    ¡°Wahaha!¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°Why are you giant?¡± He turned and ran, looking over his shoulder as he went.


    He crashed into what he thought was the wall but was actually an enormous tea kettle.


    ¡°What is going on?¡±


    Jackson had gone down on his hands and knees, crawling around like a hunting dog. Ropes uncoiled from his fingers to probe the ground like little snakes.


    Gwil ducked behind the tea kettle and then peeked out. The cavernous ceiling looked as vast as the sky. Oh no! More massive figures were swarming Cort and the others. And¡­ his friends¡ªthey were giant, too¡­


    ¡°Whaa! I¡¯m tiny!¡± Gwil screamed, and his voice sounded like a squeaking mouse.


    But Jackson heard him. The man came thundering over, lumbering like a bear. Gwil dashed away, tripped over a fork and found himself surrounded by the contents of an overturned dining table.


    Gwil crouched to lift the fork¡ªit was about three times as long as he was tall. He heaved, slipped and fell over.


    Nirva rose through his legs, his body, his arms and he flung the fork away, sending it skittering across the rocky ground.


    Jackson lunged for the fork, snaring it in a tangle of ropes.


    Gwil chased after his projectile. He jumped and soared¡ªhe was so light!


    He landed amidst the sheriff¡¯s mustache. He grabbed two tiny fistfuls of wiry hair and started yanking.


    Gwil gripped tight as Jackson spasmed and began rolling around on his back.


    The sheriff¡¯s screaming mouth was like a crushing pit of death. Gwil felt the warm, damp air rushing out of that ravenous maw. He crawled up Jackson¡¯s cheek as the man began smacking himself in the face.


    Gwil made it up to the eye, grabbed hold of the eyelashes, and raised his foot. Focusing all the Nirva he could muster, Gwil stomped down on Jackson¡¯s squeezed shut eyelid.


    Once, back in Reverie, Margaret had enlisted Gwil to help her make wine. His job was to stand in a bucket and stomp on grapes.


    This felt a lot like that.


    Again and again, he slammed his feet down as the ocular surface on which he stood caved in. Jackson bombarded him with huge hands, but Gwil held fast.


    With a stomach-churning squelch, Gwil¡¯s next stomp sank deep, and he fell over, his leg trapped up to the knee in swampy gunk.


    Jackson was gasping with pain, and his attacks had become weak and desperate. The sheriff clamped his hand over his eye, but Gwil tucked himself down under the bridge of Jackson¡¯s nose and continued tearing out eyelashes while wrestling his leg free.


    It came away caked with blood and bits. Crawling beneath the canopy that was Jackson¡¯s palm, Gwil made it back to the gouged eye and began slamming his fists into the wound.


    ¡°This?¡± he squealed in his small, high-pitched voice. ¡°I waited all those years for this?¡± Minced, gelatinous chunks spewed out. ¡°This sick carnival? Is this really the World?¡±


    Jackson pinched Gwil¡¯s body between two of his fingers. The sheriff pried Gwil off and slammed him down on the ground.


    On impact, the bones in his arms snapped like twigs and Gwil bounced away. He scrambled behind a pile of rocks and then fell over.


    Through a gap, he could see the sheriff lying on his side, his hand covering his eye. Blood streamed between his fingers and down his face. His remaining eye was frantic, wild.


    ¡°It¡¯s so¡­ disappointing,¡± Gwil said to himself.

 Chapter Thirty-Eight – What’s That Smell?

    Threads spawned from Jackson¡¯s fingertips and stitched a gauze-like patch over his eye. The man sat up. ¡°You¡¯re a vicious little insect, ain¡¯t ya?¡± He began to prowl around.


    Crouched within his little hovel of rubble, Gwil set his bones as best he could and then surged Nirva into his arms. His bones hissed as they fused back together.


    Gwil had hoped to finish Jackson off before he recovered, but that chance had passed. He hadn¡¯t actually done that much damage.


    If he had been normal-sized, Jackson¡¯s face would¡¯ve been flattened by that beating. But with his little hands, he¡¯d only pulped the man¡¯s eye, and that was easily healed.


    Gwil grimaced. He was about the size of a cockroach, but he didn¡¯t know how or why he¡¯d shrunk. It happened when he forced himself through the net.


    That must have been his Invoke. It would¡¯ve been exciting and cool, except that he didn¡¯t know how to grow back.


    Gigantic shadows swooped over his hiding place. A little critter, stalked by giants.


    Across a short distance that appeared great, Cort tore through the Podexians like a whirlwind.


    Behind him, Leira and the others huddled over Diom. Gwil shook his head and turned away. That old man would not die. No way, not right at the end, not after he¡¯d endured twenty years of suffering.


    Gwil sighed as huge legs swept past the gap in the rubble. Being this small didn¡¯t seem very useful. He was extremely weak, and he was not so small that people couldn¡¯t see him. The surprise factor had gained him something, but the jig was up.


    Time to become big again.


    Gwil closed his eyes and felt a tremendous, swaddling pressure, vague and unreal, something from a waking dream. It was like being submerged in warm, thick liquid. Syrup, maybe.


    Try as he might, Gwil could not surface. There were clutching hands in that deep place, and they held him fast.


    While fighting with Jackson by the wall, he¡¯d definitely shrank and grown back. But none of that was on purpose.


    ¡°I get it,¡± Jackson said from a short distance away. He picked through the contents of the spilled table where Gwil had hid earlier. ¡°You can¡¯t control it. Heh. Too bad you¡¯re so weak like that. You mighta had me.¡±


    The sheriff was right about that. Gwil would¡¯ve smashed his brain if he could¡¯ve figured out how to stop being small. He stifled a giggle. What a silly problem.


    Jackson¡¯s boot obliterated the pile of rocks. His kick sent Gwil flying. He slammed into the wall and then slid down to land in a crumpled heap.


    When he was little, Gwil used to jump around on the furniture and swing from the rafters, hunting flies, trying to swat them with his bare hands.


    Lying there broken, like a baby bird cast out of the nest, Gwil felt bad for bugs. It was no easy thing to be tiny in this World.


    Jackson¡¯s spurs jangled as he approached. The sheriff crouched over Gwil, a monstrous titan. The mouth, the teeth¡ªterrifying. Gwil really hoped that Jackson was not going to eat him.


    For such a small body, he¡¯d lost a lot of blood. It pooled beneath him, and he slipped around in it, squirming and writhing at the force of his coursing Nirva.


    But the Nirva faltered, trickling like a dried-up stream. Gwil didn¡¯t know where to send it. Everything was broken. It was too much. He was not enough.


    ¡°You are such a special breed of idiot,¡± Jackson said, ¡°that it makes me question whether evolution is real. But you got some guts. Good game, kid. I haven¡¯t felt this alive in a long time.¡±


    The sheriff¡¯s boot eclipsed his vision, night falling all at once. Gwil¡¯s final thoughts came fast and desperate.


    Sorry, Caris. I only made it like ten kilometers. I guess that¡¯s pretty bad.


    Leira. Cort. Isca. Diom. Everyone.


    I tried.


    An absolute darkness fell, but no pain. Gwil blinked¡ªhe¡¯d consciously kept his eyes open as he waited for the shoe to drop.


    What the-? Am I flat now?


    Gwil was jostled around as the sheriff ground his heel in the pool of blood. He heard the crunch of bones and saw what he thought was one of his torn-off fingers get crushed.


    Then Gwil realized that was actually his whole left arm. Fucking hell! I¡¯m even smaller now!


    And then he rose upward. Reflexively, Gwil threw his one arm and his legs out to catch himself. He was wedged into the treads of Jackson¡¯s boot.


    The sheriff knelt, and as he crouched on the ball of his foot, the sole of his boot folded upward, providing Gwil with an avenue.


    He dragged himself out and scurried up the side of the boot, and then collapsed in a fold of Jackson''s pants where they bunched up at his ankles.


    The sheriff bent low, examining the pool of Gwil¡¯s blood on the ground.


    Gwil shimmied up so he could see, and then scrunched his face at the crushed bits of his bone and tissue.


    His arm had been severed at the elbow, but a translucent pink stump was unfurling. Fire blazed through Gwil¡¯s whole body. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach.


    Gwil¡¯s eyes went wide. Considering the extent of his injuries, he was healing quickly¡ªso quickly that ethereal billows of Nirva streamed out of his body.


    Shit, shit, shit. Buzzard said something about how Hallows can detect each other if they don¡¯t hide their Nirva. Jackson had found them earlier that way.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Gwil sucked in a deep breath and held it. That put a stopper on the steam. He tried to block his mind, but he didn¡¯t know how to do that, so he emptied it instead. Much easier.


    ¡°Woo!¡± Jackson yelled. ¡°What a day. Goddamn cockroach, that kid. Alright boys, he¡¯s dead! Let¡¯s exterminate the rest of ¡®em.


    ¡°Stondemaier! I¡¯mma kill you first ¡®cause you won¡¯t quit with the moaning. Or maybe Ansoir, and you can watch.¡±


    Gwil crawled down to the hem of Jackson¡¯s pant leg and then went under and started making his way up.


    He was super small now. So small that he could climb using Jackson¡¯s leg hair¡ªwhich made for excellent handholds¡ªwithout tugging it. Gwil guessed he was about the size of an ant.


    Oops, no thinking yet. Eh, is that even possible?


    Reaching Jackson¡¯s thigh, Gwil took care to go over the outside of the man¡¯s underwear, and then he shimmied his way past the sheriff¡¯s belt and went up into his shirt.


    ***


    Cort had destroyed all the Taluses and killed four of the Podexians. The rest of them hung back now that they could not use the statues as bait.


    The fight had reached a stalemate. Ten spear-wielding guards maintained a safe distance while surrounding him in a semi-circle.


    Cort didn¡¯t mind that. All he needed to do was keep them away from the others.


    He spat out a mouthful of stringy blood and grinned at his enemies. Maybe that¡¯d make him look maniacal enough that they wouldn¡¯t attack.


    Cort had taken a bad blow to the head, severe enough to impair his ability to fight. The Podexians didn¡¯t know that, and the longer he could keep it that way, the better.


    Sticky blood masked his face and his vision in his left eye was dark and cloudy. A concussion had him slow-witted and his legs felt like jelly.


    Cort leaned on his hammer, presenting what he hoped was a confident, terrifying ease rather than a man on the verge of collapse.


    Gwil needed to hurry it up. Everything hung on his fight with the sheriff. Those two had moved to the other side of the dais, so Cort couldn¡¯t see them.


    He wondered if Diom was dead yet, but didn¡¯t want to risk turning his head. And what about everyone else, running loose throughout the manor? They could¡¯ve run into more statues and¡­ Cort shook his head and then had to swallow the vomit that gurgled up.


    A triumphant scream echoed through the cavern. The only words Cort caught¡ª ¡°¡­he¡¯s dead!¡±


    Cort jerked upright and raised his hammer. The Podexians cheered and rushed him.


    A wild swing crashed through someone¡¯s pelvis but threw Cort off balance. He stepped on a rolling statue''s head and fell over.


    ¡°Cort!¡± Leira shrieked. ¡°Where¡¯s Gwil?¡±


    Cort made it back onto his knees before they swarmed him. He tried to use the head of his hammer as a shield and took a spear through the shoulder.


    The sheriff kept running his mouth.


    I¡¯m wondering that too, Leira. No way he¡¯s dead. Cort¡¯s hammer got knocked out of his hands. Desperation turned him feral. His hand shot out and closed around a guard¡¯s throat.


    Cort hooked his arm around the neck of another and smashed their heads together. He headbutted someone in the crotch and then caught a finger in his gnashing teeth. He bit down until his teeth scraped against bone and blood filled his mouth.


    The sheriff whistled, and the guards fell back, except for the two who Cort had just killed.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize you were this dangerous,¡± Jackson said. ¡°Maybe I¡¯d better kill you first.¡±


    ***


    Leira felt worthless and foolish. Why had she allowed herself to hope for anything from this wretched World?


    Useless and drained. Megrim had no gifts to give. The roots that grew inside her were diseased.


    He¡¯s dead. Those words made no sense.


    ¡°Idiot!¡± Leira screamed¡ªaloud, though she hadn¡¯t meant to. Did she really believe she¡¯d found a miracle buried in the mud? A delusion of grandeur.


    Stupid, stupid, stupid. She thought they were special. That something out there cared. Skuld, that bastard. Meeting him had encouraged her fantasy.


    A tear fell from her mundane eye, and that brought a crazed smile. Water and salt. Thank you. What a joke.


    Gwil could not be dead. She¡¯d been so sure. But humans were so fragile. It all fell apart so fast. She heard Anesidyra¡¯s cold voice in her head, ¡®Mercy is a construct, Leira. The World does not recognize it.¡¯


    Cort was going to be killed right in front of her eyes, and she could only pray that she wouldn¡¯t have to wait long for her turn.


    She rammed her fingers into her eye socket, felt the dry withered roots.


    ¡°Fuck!¡±


    Leira looked back at Ansoir. He lay in a pile with his monstrous father, his stone mother, and Diom¡¯s corpse. Madness. Madness everywhere.


    Leira stood. She would not die on her knees. Ashkana would never. Ashkana would fight like a demon until her last breath, and so would Leira.


    She sprinted at the sheriff and relished the hatred that burned in her guts.


    ¡°Liar!¡± Leira screamed.


    If she died with that man¡¯s blood on her hands, then she would go with a smile on her face.


    ***


    ¡°Leira, don¡¯t!¡± Ansoir shouted. He stumbled after her. ¡°Jackson, Jackson, please,¡± he called. ¡°Spare them. We can negotiate. It¡¯s all yours.¡±


    A rope snaked out of the sheriff¡¯s hand, coiled around Ansoir¡¯s leg and yanked him down


    Jackson didn¡¯t even spare him a glance.


    Laying on the ground, Ansoir looked at what his mother and father had become. And he remembered them as they were.


    They were eating dinner, just the three of them and a host of faceless servants.


    Mother laughed. She always laughed.


    Father droned on about things that were meaningless to a child. All he ever did was talk about such things.


    Whatever it was, he was angry. Father slammed his fist down on the table and the dishes clattered.


    Mother laughed again. Father¡¯s face transformed as his woes washed away. He smiled at Mother. His eyes twinkled. They laughed together.


    Mother stood and circled the table in her slow, hobbling way. She wiped Ansoir¡¯s chin with a napkin and then kissed him on the cheek. Her quick, shallow breathing buzzed in Ansoir¡¯s ear, and he saw Father¡¯s face transform again.


    A fleeting dream.


    Mother coughed into her bed sheet. She always coughed. She tried to hide the flecks of blood, but they were bright against the white bedding.


    Ansoir sat beside her on the propped-up pillows. Her arm felt weightless around his shoulders. Her skin was gray-blue. Ansoir nuzzled his face against her and felt the rough ridges of her ribs.


    He peeked up at her and she smiled. But her eyes were empty, looking elsewhere.


    Father threw the door open.


    ¡°Get out, Ansoir,¡± he barked.


    ¡°No, Stondemaier,¡± Mother rasped. ¡°If you insist on this course of action, let him stay. Please. That is my demand.¡±


    Ansoir¡¯s mouth went dry as his father looked down at his feet, wrestling with something.


    Ansoir did not understand. Nothing made sense.


    ¡°No,¡± Father said. ¡°I won¡¯t do that. It¡¯s not right. None of this is right.¡±


    ¡°There is still time, my love,¡± Mother said.


    ¡°I can¡¯t risk that,¡± Father said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ophelia. I am a monster.¡±


    Ansoir¡¯s throat tightened, and his face fell apart. He hated crying. He looked up at his mother, terrified that she would be crying too.


    Her jaw was stiff, her face expressionless. Like a statue.


    Father lifted Ansoir out of the bed. Ansoir felt his mother¡¯s feeble hand clinging to his pajamas, and then her grip broke.


    Father carried him to the door and handed him off to Diom. Then, he slammed the door to Mother¡¯s sickroom.


    Ophelia Jaqlov burned alive that day. Her ashes gave birth to a puppet.


    How cold love could be.


    Ansoir had convinced himself that he was a powerful man. Then, Gwil and Leira arrived like a storm and devoured his life. He¡¯d been left with nothing save for the brutal truth.


    This World does not care who you are, or how much wealth you have. It will crush anyone.


    Faced with such cruelty, kindness, no matter how small, is more precious than anything else.


    And now I die, knowing full well that I am worse than worthless.


    Ansoir made to go after Leira, but he could not turn away from his father. Something was wrong¡­


    With a clatter of rocks, Stondemaier drew himself upright. Ophelia staggered at his sudden movement. Ansoir did not realize that his father could still move like that.


    Burgermeister Stondemaier Jaqlov¡¯s mouth opened like a crumbling sinkhole. ¡°They are coming.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Nine – Arrival

    ¡°Ughwuah,¡± Gwil gagged.


    He tried very hard not to vomit as he crawled up a river of mucous, filled with nose hair-reeds. It was horrible. Gwil wondered if going into the sheriff¡¯s ear might have been less unpleasant.


    Being so small and weak, this was the only way Gwil could deal critical damage. Once he came to something squishy, he¡¯d beat the hell out of it. Hopefully it¡¯d be Jackson¡¯s brain.


    Gwil dragged himself through thick, sticky phlegm and bristly nose hairs, fighting for every smidgen of progress. His arm had grown back up to the hand, but the fingers had yet to form.


    Jackson¡¯s nasal exhalations were like a disgusting sauna. Gwil had only been in the nose proper for about thirty seconds, but the grossness made it feel like years.


    He was brimming with Nirva, an ocean in his veins. Prismatic essence poured from his body in proverbial bucketfuls. And he knew that he was healing faster than ever before. Even his tooth had grown back.


    Gwil guessed that his Nirva had not diminished with his shrunken body, so he now possessed an abundance.


    It didn¡¯t seem like Jackson could sense his presence. Maybe what Gwil was doing was working¡ªthough he wasn¡¯t doing anything anymore¡ªor maybe the sheriff just thought he had to sneeze. This was a good hiding place. Who would ever think to look inside their own nose?


    ***


    Cort was on his knees, staring up at Jackson. Ansoir and Leira lay beside him. Ansoir¡¯s hand had been sliced off.


    Razor-ropes formed a vest around Cort¡¯s chest and lashed his arms to the ground. He couldn¡¯t move a muscle.


    Another rope snaked out of Jackson¡¯s palm and coiled around Cort¡¯s neck. He spat a mouthful of blood into the sheriff¡¯s face as the rope tightened.


    ***


    The dark, dank cavity was getting narrower. The top of Gwil¡¯s head bumped against something softer than the nasal walls. And the surface contracted, flinched.


    Jackson¡¯s whole body spasmed. But Gwil was jammed up far enough¡ªand it was sticky enough¡ªthat he wouldn¡¯t fall out.


    Gwil poked at the soft thing. It felt bouncy, kind of like a balloon. As he drew his fist back, he wondered what it was. A sinus or gland or something.


    A rush of Nirva filled his fist to bursting.


    Gwil punched the balloon, and it popped. Foul liquid sprayed his face. He spat and crawled into the rupture.


    It was slippery in here, and stuffy with bulbous masses.


    Gwil began punching and kicking at everything. He was being rocked around by whatever Jackson was doing outside, so he just thrashed mindlessly as he crashed against the soft cushions. I hope this is his brain.


    Something dreadful happened.


    ¡°A-ah-ahhh-chooooo!¡±


    Caught in a glob of bloody snot, Gwil shot out like a bullet. Wiping himself off, Gwil got up and found himself standing on Jackson¡¯s chest. The man lay flat on his back, writhing and twitching, foaming at the mouth.


    Gwil jumped up onto his chin to get a better look. The blood gushing from Jackson¡¯s nose reached Gwil¡¯s knees. More blood leaked from the sheriff¡¯s eyes.


    A choked wheeze blew Gwil off the chin back onto Jackson¡¯s sternum.


    It¡¯s not enough. If the sheriff was still breathing, he could heal. Gwil had to get back inside and finish him.


    ¡°Gwil! Gwil, are you there?¡±


    That was Leira, screaming.


    ¡°I¡¯m here!¡± Gwil squeaked.


    ¡°Oh my- Where? Are you invisible? Why¡¯s your voice like that? I thought you were dead!¡±


    ¡°Right here!¡± Gwil waved his arms over his head.


    ¡°Fucking hell! I see him! Argh!¡±


    Gwil turned and saw Cort smash through three of Jackson¡¯s men with one swing of his hammer¡ªthe rest of the officers ran for the door.


    Cort¡¯s prisoner¡¯s jumpsuit and the skin underneath had been shredded. Half-a-dozen bloodied bodies lay at his feet.


    ¡°Ahh!¡± Leira yelped. ¡°Me too!¡± She ran over.


    ¡°Wait, Leira! We gotta-¡± Gwil dodged away from her grabbing hand. At this even smaller size, she loomed large as a mountain.


    ¡°Why the hell are you so tiny?¡±


    Gwil¡¯s cheeks fluttered at the gale force wind of her voice. He had to cling to Jackson¡¯s vest to keep from blowing away.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°I dunno¡ªbut Cort! Smash his face, quick!¡± Gwil chirped.


    ¡°Yeah, my pleasure,¡± Cort said, grunting. He limped over, the head of his great hammer scraping against the stone floor.


    The noise began in their bones, like ten thousand needles. Aches burrowed through Gwil¡¯s joints. His limbs locked up.


    The others fell to their knees. Ansoir clamped his hands over his ears. Stondemaier wailed. Jackson was gripped by a vicious seizure and Gwil was flung away.


    The warbling shrillness crept into Gwil¡¯s skull, and his vision went blurry. He covered his ears too. Everyone¡¯s hair stood up on end, as if drawn by tremendous static. Ansoir¡¯s afro had unfurled to a length of two meters.


    The sound increased in frequency and grew more distorted. The voices in Gwil¡¯s head screamed death as if in response.


    And then the sound stopped. Frigid gusts of powerful wind rushed around them. Radiant light filled the cavern. Looking up, Gwil thought the moon might be falling on top of them.


    Debris swirled into the air. Gwil grabbed hold of a chunk of rock, and then the object skittered, and he was being lifted up.


    Cort snatched Gwil out of the air and clutched his fist to his chest.


    Gwil peeked through the creases of Cort¡¯s fingers. He saw Ophelia with her arms wrapped around her huddled family, her stone body stalwart against the winds.


    The top half of the manor had been obliterated. The rounded metal bottom of an enormous vessel loomed overhead. Its breadth could not be discerned, but it dwarfed this tower. Blinding white-blue Kaia light shone from circular vents along the base of the craft.


    Frost crackled into being, coating everything around them.


    ¡°Run!¡± Leira said, getting to her feet, bracing herself against the gale. She tugged at Cort.


    ¡°But Leira,¡± Gwil said, popping his head out the top of Cort¡¯s fist.


    ¡°No!¡± she shrieked. ¡°Gwil, no. We need to leave now, or we will all die.¡± Mania gripped her face, but her voice was steady. She did not plead. She spoke with deliberate certainty.


    Gwil nodded. ¡°What are we waiting for? Run, Cort!¡±


    The winds ebbed, allowing them to hear the rumbling hum of the vessel. Something else was happening, but Gwil couldn¡¯t twist around to see because Cort had tightened his fist.


    ¡°Get up, get up!¡± Leira said. ¡°Ophelia, can you carry them?¡±


    Gwil watched the stone woman hoist her feeble husband onto her shoulder, and then her son.


    ¡°Wha!¡± Gwil squealed. ¡°Ansoir!¡±


    A bundle of cloth, shiny with blood, was wrapped around Ansoir¡¯s wrist. Its shape revealed that there was no hand underneath.


    Gwil wrestled himself out of Cort¡¯s fist and jumped down to the ground. Diom lay there. Not moving. Covered in blood. Gwil¡¯s fingernails stabbed into his palms.


    ***


    Leira snatched Gwil off the ground as he tried to run toward Diom¡¯s corpse. She had to press both her hands together to keep him trapped as he tried to fight his way free.


    ¡°He¡¯s dead, Gwil. I tried,¡± she said as they ran toward the door. He slammed himself against the inside of her palms like a wasp trapped in a jar.


    ¡°No, he isn¡¯t,¡± Gwil said, like a petulant child. ¡°I promised Isca. Put me down! I¡¯ll carry him.¡±


    Into the tunnels. Leira ran alongside Ophelia. Cort was a few paces ahead.


    ¡°Let me go!¡± Gwil said. ¡°I promised.¡±


    ¡°You made a promise to me, too,¡± Leira snapped. That shut him up, but she was on edge, so she went on. ¡°He¡¯s dead. You failed. Deal with it.¡±


    ¡°What if he comes back as a Hallow?¡±


    ¡°Gwil. No.¡±


    She felt him fall against her palm, light as a feather.


    Cort slowed down to hammer through a chunk of rock that blocked their path. The cave was collapsing.


    ¡°The sheriff is gonna heal,¡± Gwil said.


    Leira laughed. ¡°I expect he¡¯s cursing you for not killing him right now.¡±


    ¡°That was the Leviathan?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°Yeah, and not standard military. Only Monarchs have that kind of ship.¡±


    ¡°I gotta go back for Diom, then. Leira, please.¡±


    She clenched her teeth as they clambered over a pile of rubble.


    ¡°Yeah, good idea. Give your life for a fucking corpse. He is dead. I tried, Gwil, but it hit an artery or something.¡±


    She brought her hands to her mouth. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. He died hopeful. If we get away with everyone, then we made his dream come true.¡±


    Gwil made a stunted, muffled sound. Then said, ¡°We need to find the others.¡±


    ¡°No, they need to get out on their own. You promised.¡±


    Leira felt a cool breeze. Fresh air. Up ahead¡ªa hole in the wall that they could get out through.


    Something about that sight crushed her resolve, washed away her adrenaline. Terror surged. Her heart pounded in her throat. They are here. The monsters are right behind me.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let them take me!¡± she screamed.


    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± Gwil squeaked.


    Cort had stopped at the opening and pushed Ophelia through. He wrapped an arm around Leira¡¯s back and dragged her outside.


    Don¡¯t think. Don¡¯t think.


    Looking up, the sheer size of the Leviathan ship seemed to swallow everything. The upper sections of the canyon wall that enveloped the manor had vanished, sliced into nothingness, exposing the hollow to the sky.


    The ship¡¯s hull was a hypnotizing mechanical hellscape. Leira knew it had not flown here¡ªit had appeared out of nowhere.


    A Monarch. Here. It¡¯s not her. It¡¯s not her.


    Leira gasped when they escaped from the warpship¡¯s breadth. The sight of the blank night sky allowed her to breathe. Clouds obscured the stars.


    They hobbled along, fast as they could. The ground crunched beneath their feet. Leira looked down. The gardens were blackened and burnt, smoldering.


    It started raining. Pouring.


    ¡°Mmra!¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Leira opened her hand.


    Gwil¡¯s panting sounded like a whistle. ¡°You were¡­ squeezing me way too tight.¡± He lay in her palm with his hand over his chest. He rolled over like a little bug.


    ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± Cort growled.


    The rain sizzled and steamed as they ran through the scorched gardens. Leira loved heavy rain like this. It made you want to look up and reach for the sky.


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil yelled in her ear. She hadn¡¯t realized that he¡¯d climbed up onto her shoulder.


    She wiped her eye so she could see what he was shouting about. With the darkness and the rain and her tears, the visibility was piss-poor.


    A horde of figures ahead. Soldiers, was her first thought. But no, they were running away. Dozens, maybe even a hundred! Could it really be all of them?


    ¡°They made it!¡± Gwil chirped.


    Their comrades were a couple hundred paces ahead, nearly to the cliff¡¯s edge and the wall.


    ¡°Thank fuck,¡± Cort said.


    Running through the gardens might¡¯ve been treacherous, with all the twisting roots and vines, but everything crumbled into ash beneath their feet.


    Leira chanced a look over her shoulder. The ship hung above the ruined manor, motionless. The surrounding air was warped and shimmering. It looked as if the sky had been torn open to reveal an unimaginable horror.


    Gwil¡¯s voice called her back.


    ¡°Andor,¡± he was saying. ¡°Hey, Andor.¡±


    Ansoir was slumped over his mother¡¯s shoulder, seemingly unconscious.


    But he jerked to attention. ¡°An-soir!¡± He sobbed. ¡°It hurts. Everything hurts so much.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be okay,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re tough.¡±


    Ansoir made a weird noise and then his head lolled. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I think I¡¯m glad I get to live,¡± he murmured.


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that yet,¡± Cort said.


    Leira nodded to herself at that. She wondered how much Cort knew about what had just arrived here.


    Cort slowed down a step so that they ran parallel to each other. ¡°Why the fuck are you still like that?¡± he yelled at Gwil. ¡°Go back to normal.¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡± Gwil said. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying.¡±

 Chapter Forty – A Queen’s Corruption

    Gwil sensed it before the others, like gentle fingernails caressing his scalp. Swinging from a lock of Leira¡¯s hair, he spun around.


    Three dark figures had emerged from the ruined main entrance of the manor. Their silhouettes possessed an inky sheen. They were humanoid, but protrusions jutted from their twitching forms. They moved across the gardens in pursuit.


    Leira screamed bloody murder.


    And then Ansoir: ¡°Brock!¡± He thrashed against Ophelia¡¯s hold on him.


    The Talus came staggering out of the manor, behind the creatures.


    Bile burned in Gwil¡¯s throat. They had left Brock behind.


    Unforgiveable.


    Gwil leapt down from Leira¡¯s shoulder and hit the ground running.


    ¡°No! Gwil!¡± Leira shouted. She dove to catch him, but he darted away. ¡°Stop!¡±


    He was gone.


    ¡°But you promised¡­¡± Leira buried her face in the ash and the dirt.


    ¡°Brock! Brock!¡± Ansoir cried.


    Dammit. These tiny strides made him so slow. The manor might¡¯ve been five kilometers away accounting for scale.


    Weaving through giant raindrops, Gwil glanced back as heavy footfalls closed on him.


    Cort. Gwil veered to get away.


    He would not leave Brock behind. Diom was dead. He had no choice but to accept that. But Brock was still alive.


    ¡°Get on, you idiot!¡± Cort said. ¡°We¡¯re gonna get him out.¡±


    Gwil jumped up into Cort¡¯s open palm.


    ¡°Brock! Brock!¡± Ansoir¡¯s cries echoed, piercing the pattering rainfall.


    The three figures had a strange way of moving, jerky yet flowing, as if they drifted on the current of a raging river. Their bodies were lanky and thin, and they were over three meters in height.


    As one, they stopped and leaned forward, extending their heads like prowling animals. They watched Cort¡¯s approach with a childlike curiosity.


    Tattered strips of cloth hung from carapace-like armor. The plates formed a shell around their bodies, segmented around the points of articulation. Gwil thought of a centipede.


    Their shells were dark, but not black, rather a mottled mix of green, purple, and red, all in their sickliest hues. The pattern matched Leira¡¯s hair color. Pinprick orange glints shone through the folds in their helmets.


    Twisted horns punched through their plating. The horns were grayish white, like mold or ash. The horns looked invasive, parasitic. And the creatures¡¯ movements seemed to favor the protrusions as if they caused them pain, forcing them to hunch and writhe.


    Cort and Gwil¡ªriding on his shoulder¡ªwere close to the creatures, less than a hundred paces away. None of them carried weapons. They stared mindlessly, like fish in a bowl.


    Brock rolled along in their wake. The creatures paid him no mind.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna throw you past them,¡± Cort told Gwil. ¡°Do what you can. Get the rock out while I hold them off.¡±


    ***


    Leira clawed the soil with her fingers as the rain splattered against her back. It was over. This was her last sliver of freedom.


    Ophelia¡¯s hard finger prodded at her. Leira wished the statue would just crush her skull beneath its stone foot.


    Gwil didn¡¯t know¡ªcouldn¡¯t know. He and Cort were dead.


    Those creatures¡ªthey belonged to her. To Queen Anesidyra.


    How? How could she be here? So far from¡­


    Everyone would be taken. Gwil, Cort, all the escaped prisoners. Anesidyra would metamorphose them all. Except for Leira.


    Her fate would be different, and there was no escape. Misery, until the very end.


    ***


    Twenty paces. The air grew warmer as they got closer.


    In perfect harmony, the three creatures bowed their heads almost to the ground. The masks of their helms unfolded. They began to gag and retch.


    Chunky brown slime poured from their faces. It formed a writhing pool around their feet. The stench¡­ shit and rot and death.


    The impurity that gushed from their faces was an impossible torrent. So much that it could not have been contained within their selves.


    The creatures sank down as the ground on which they stood started caving in.


    The chunks inside the waste were eggs, gelatinous and yellow. In sequence, they ballooned and then burst. Coiled centipedes sprang free, each as long as a cat, and as thick as Cort¡¯s arm.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    The chittering grotesqueries spewed out more of the rancid brown fluid. The pool flooded across the ground. Raindrops sizzled as they hit the surface.


    A Monarch. Cort did not expect to survive this. But maybe they wouldn¡¯t see Gwil. Maybe he could get out with Brock.


    Cort hoped the prisoners realized they needed to run for their lives.


    He drew his arm back to throw Gwil.


    But a geyser erupted. Cort turned and covered his face with his arm, closed his fist around Gwil. He winced as acidic droplets disintegrated his clothing and scalded his flesh.


    Splashing and squelching, frenzied chittering and guttural roars.


    ¡°Brock!¡±


    Cort took a moment to realize that it was Gwil yelling with his tiny voice, not Ansoir¡¯s distant wailing.


    Cort could only squint¡ªa sticky substance clung to his eyes. He glimpsed the Talus frantically mashing his way through the swamp.


    Brock had plowed right through the three creatures and knocked them off their feet.


    Pale, colorless blood squirted from the mass of centipedes that Brock crushed beneath his feet.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, c¡¯mon, c¡¯mon,¡± Gwil chanted.


    But Brock¡¯s heavy body was sinking into the deteriorating, muddy ground. He revved his boulder legs, kicking up a storm of putridness.


    Cort moved closer, inching so he wouldn¡¯t fall into the swamp himself. He placed Gwil back on his shoulder.


    Acid was chewing through his boots. Fucking hell. He already wanted to take a bath.


    Cort dug his feet in and sank up to his ankles. Then he took his hammer and, reaching as far as he could, lowered the head down to Brock. The three spawners splashed about in the muck like jumping salmon.


    The Talus clamped his boulder hands¡ªthe least dexterous appendages in the World¡ªaround the hammer.


    They gave it their all, Cort heaving and Brock flailing through the muck. Cort could feel the acid chewing through his feet, but no pain, just a cool, pleasant numbness.


    Brock managed to plant one of his legs on something firm. A rock probably, Cort mused. One of his insentient, subterranean kin. Cort giggled and found that he felt giddy and very lightheaded. Way better than being drunk.


    He really wanted to sit down. And why not? He did.


    Brock rumbled up out of the ditch. His stone body was pocked with divots and chewed-out gashes where the acid had melted through.


    The Talus scooped Cort up and zipped away, smoke pouring from his engine as his boulder legs churned like tank treads.


    Cort adjusted himself so he could see behind them. One spawner had lost its helm. Gross little worms covered its face. Except for the beady orange eyes, the only feature was a gaping round hole, like a mouth, but in the center.


    ¡°You kind of look like weird anuses,¡± Cort called. He¡¯d tried to yell, so they could hear him, but his tongue was too big. And they didn¡¯t have ears, anyway.


    Gwil started laughing, and that got Cort going too.


    But the swamp grew like a rising tide, carrying a wave of centipedes. Not funny at all! Cort began smacking Brock on the back, trying to hurry him along like a horse.


    The three spawners drifted along the surface of the pool, spasming, slime spraying from their faces like they were loose hoses.


    ***


    ¡°Leave me alone, you fucking stone bitch,¡± Leira screamed, whipping around. Ophelia had resumed prodding at her. ¡°Just let me wallow in my¡ªholy shit!¡±


    She did not believe it. Brock was blundering across the gardens. The Talus had Cort in his arms. Leira squinted and saw Gwil standing on top of Brock¡¯s head.


    Alive. It didn¡¯t matter though, did it? They still had nowhere to go. There was no hope of escaping from Anesidyra.


    The familiar scent of Anesidyra¡¯s corruption made Leira shiver and sweat. Her skin crawled.


    The Queen¡¯s scourge was spreading. Leira had witnessed it many times before. And it had plagued her nightmares for the past three years. She shuddered¡ªso much worse in person.


    But Gwil had promised her. And he would try until he died.


    Leira turned and ran toward the mob of escapees. ¡°Run, you fucking fools, run!¡± she screamed. ¡°Get down the wall. Run as far as you can!¡±


    They¡¯d at least been smart enough to get to the cliff¡¯s edge. A warpship hung in the sky and the earth putrefied before their eyes, so it didn¡¯t take a genius¡­


    Ansoir knelt, one hand clasped around his bandaged stump, lips moving in silent prayer. Ophelia clung to his shirt as he tried to run toward Brock.


    A booming, distorted voice rang out. ¡°Stop! Stay where you are, prisoners.¡±


    Leira wanted to rip off her own skin. ¡°Fucking hell, what is it now?¡± she shrieked before forcing herself to turn around.


    Another goddamn flyer! But this was a janky-looking, blimp-style airship. Not Leviathan. A crumpled hunk of junk that she wouldn¡¯t have believed capable of flight if she wasn¡¯t looking at it.


    The airship slowed on its approach and descended to the level of the cliff.


    ¡°This is your savior speaking. That¡¯s right, it is I, Doctor Buzzard, here to rescue you.¡±


    A hangar door in the airship¡¯s main cabin opened, and a ramp deployed. More than a hundred people were crowded inside¡ªthe escapees that had stayed behind, and a bunch of strangers too.


    Leira¡¯s heart skipped. She wanted to weep and laugh and scream all at once.


    The escapees crowded the ramp and began pouring into the hangar, helped along by those who were already aboard.


    Leira turned back. Brock was so close. Just a few more seconds. Please, please, please.


    ***


    ¡°More like Doctor Butthead!¡± Cort said, cackling.


    Gwil didn¡¯t know why Cort was being so goofy¡ªthis was pretty scary¡ªbut it had him cracking up.


    He¡¯d thought they were gonna die, but instead he''d get to ride on an airship. It didn¡¯t look like the ones he¡¯d seen in pictures, but it flew, and that was what mattered.


    Doctor Buzzard! Gwil needed to remember to tell him something.


    Without slowing down, Brock scooped up Leira and the three Jaqlovs in his arms and held them close as he rolled up the airship¡¯s ramp.


    The thing heaved at Brock¡¯s weight, but they made it inside and the door closed behind them. Gwil grinned. He was flying!


    ¡°All aboard?¡±


    Gwil looked around¡ªso many people!¡ªas Buzzard¡¯s artificial voice sounded throughout the cabin.


    ¡°Let¡¯s be off then. Let it be known, I haven¡¯t tested this airship¡¯s ability to fly in the rain. It¡¯s fine, of course, but well, don¡¯t bother holding on tight. If we crash it¡¯s a death sentence, heehee, so just cross your fingers.¡±


    Brock set them down. Cort stumbled like a drunk and then landed on his ass. He laughed, slumped over, and began snoring like a pig.


    Leira snatched Gwil and brought him close to her face as he tried to scurry up her cupped hands. She clapped them together to trap him.


    ¡°Buwuhuh,¡± Gwil groaned.


    ¡°Never scare me like that again, you goddamn idiot! I told you they were dangerous, and you promised me-promised¡ªyou would keep me safe.¡±


    ¡°It worked out,¡± Gwil said, straining. ¡°And look, luxury travel.¡±


    Leira sighed and shivered. ¡°Don¡¯t ever do that to me again.¡±


    Gwil nodded. ¡°I won¡¯t. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    He climbed up onto her shoulder so he could see better. The escapees were hooting and hollering, hugging and crying, celebrating as much as they could in the crowded cabin.


    And then he realized it wasn¡¯t just the escapees in here, but a host of finely clad townsfolk, and a bunch of servants from the manor. Wow! Everyone did such a good job.


    With a thunderous metal clang and a terrifying lurch of the airship, Brock collapsed. His engine was sparking, and a bit of smoke trailed out, but he gave a thumbs up.


    Ansoir was passed out next to Cort, his head resting on Cort¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Aw, how cute,¡± Gwil said.


    Ophelia knelt beside them, hands on her head, stuck in her smiling panic.


    Gwil was surprised upon noticing Stondemaier. It was hard to remember he was a person since he was so similar to an amorphous pile of rocks. His eyes were open but lolling with creepy vacancy.


    ¡°Erm, I think Ansoir and Brock need medical attention,¡± Leira said.

 Chapter Forty-One – Skies Await

    A woman with a gruff, commanding voice shoved her way through the packed hangar. Several people were knocked over by her belligerence.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Gwil?¡± she barked upon emerging from the throng. It was Limmy. ¡°Where is he? Why isn¡¯t he with you, flower lady?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± Gwil said from Leira¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Hey, Limmy!¡±


    She stomped closer, leaning in and squinting. ¡°What the hell? I don¡¯t remember you being so small.¡±


    ¡°He was always like that,¡± Leira said quickly.


    Limmy scratched her head and then cackled. ¡°Guess all this madness threw my memory right out the wazoo.¡± She put her hands on her hips and beamed. ¡°I did it! Just like you asked. Every single one of the sorry bastards is alive and well, excepting for a few non-fatal wounds. I kept my promise.¡±


    Gwil bowed his head. ¡°That¡¯s amazing, Limmy. Thanks!¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s voice sounded through the hangar again, and Gwil realized it came from a small cone mounted to the ceiling.


    ¡°Greetings, passengers. We have cleared Podexian airspace and are headed due south to sanctuary.¡±


    ¡°South?¡± Leira exclaimed. ¡°Nuh-uh. That is not gonna fly.¡±


    Buzzard continued. ¡°Welcome aboard my esteemed and illustrious vessel, Rosalind¡¯s Memory, named for my late mother.¡± A sniffle crackled through the speaker. ¡°It was designed by my brilliant mind and constructed by the hands of those who I told what to do.


    ¡°It is¡­ perhaps not certifiably airworthy, heehee, but I can guarantee your safety. Just sit back and relax. We will arrive at our destination in approximately two hours. I will issue an alert when it¡¯s time to land. At that point, you will want to secure yourselves, because we are carrying excessive weight. Also, our landing mechanisms are incomplete so the vessel will suffer, heehee, damage upon touchdown. But fear not, a genius always accounts for the unexpected! Please note, our lavatorial facilities are limited, so do not overfill your bladders or consume any laxatives.¡±


    Some muttering broke out at the end of the announcement, but the escapees were too exhausted to do any worrying, and the townsfolk were too shellshocked to do anything besides stare and make themselves small.


    Gwil jumped from Leira¡¯s shoulder and clung to the speaker. ¡°Hey Buzzard, can you hear me?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Gwilym. What would be the point of a one-way comm system? I can see you, too.¡±


    ¡°Ansoir¡¯s hand got cut off¡ªit¡¯s kind of bleeding a lot. And Brock looks like he might explode. Can you help them?¡±


    ¡°Certainly. Bring Ansoir to the cockpit. As for Brock, let me see¡­¡± The speaker spun and a little scope extended to look at Brock. ¡°Hmm, yes. The damage is not critical. I will come attend to him afterward, since Brock is too large to move through the hall.¡±


    Gwil jumped back to Leira and said, ¡°Does anyone else need any doctoring?¡± His tiny voice went unheard, so Leira repeated the message.


    No one spoke up. Limmy sneered whilst scanning the escapees and glaring. ¡°That¡¯s what I thought,¡± she said, nodding. She started clapping and everyone else followed. Joy swelled throughout the hangar.


    Gwil grinned. Everyone¡¯s okay. Diom would¡¯ve been happy. He could hear the old man saying his death was worthwhile. Gwil would¡¯ve told him that was bullshit.


    He bit at his lower lip. Leira was wrong. It was his fault. He could¡¯ve easily thrown himself in front of those ropes if he¡¯d realized¡­ Isca will be so disappointed.


    Dammit. Not again. It was the same as with Caris. Too slow, too stupid. Nothing like that should ever happen.


    ¡°Ask goggle-man if he has any booze!¡± one prisoner said to cheers.


    ¡°I do not have any booze,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Please remember what I said about your bladders. I¡¯ll be damned if I let urine rain down from an airship that bears my mother¡¯s name.¡±


    ¡°SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!¡± It was Cort who¡¯d yelled, but he was still fast asleep.


    ¡°Is he gonna be okay?¡± Gwil asked.


    Leira nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve seen it before. It will wear off soon, but he¡¯s gonna be extremely annoying until it does.¡±


    ¡°Huh? You¡¯ve seen that weird centipede shit before?¡± Gwil asked.


    She nodded again, and from where Gwil stood on her shoulder, he glimpsed the tear that she blinked away.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t listen to you back there, Leira.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± She shook her head. ¡°There¡¯s nothing I can do for his flesh wounds until my flower blooms. But it¡¯s good that he took his shoes off.¡±


    Cort¡¯s feet were purple and bloody and moldy. It was gross.


    Leira closed her eye and exhaled through pursed lips. ¡°Anesidyra rarely kills. She loves to create loyal, willful servants. It¡¯s a long and twisted process of love and torture. This poison, this drunken euphoria that Cort has is one of her methods.¡±


    Gwil heard Skuld¡¯s voice in his head: ¡®That¡¯s a terrible burden she carries. Makes me wanna cry. One day, everything will come crashing down on her. She¡¯ll need your help. Don¡¯t you dare abandon her.¡¯


    Gwil knew from the start that Leira was something unusual. And it was obvious that she¡¯d had a hard time of things.


    But he had come to realize that he knew nothing about the World. He was na?ve, and he had underestimated the situation.


    This journey would see them entering the belly of the beast. And then, it was like inside that beast¡¯s belly was another beast that had been eaten but was actually even more ferocious than the beast that had eaten it. And then inside that beast¡­


    Gwil shook his head. It didn¡¯t matter. He just needed to be better. Much better. And ready for anything.


    Gwil cracked his tiny knuckles. ¡°I promise she will never get her hands on you again, Leira. Just let me know when you¡¯re ready for us to go kill this queen.¡±


    Her breath was a hiss. ¡°I will.¡±


    Ophelia stomped her stone foot on the metal floor. She held Ansoir in her arms and gestured for them to hurry the hell up.


    Gwil jumped from head to unassuming head and landed next to Brock. ¡°You¡¯re okay? I¡¯ll tell Buzzard to hurry up.¡±


    The Talus nodded. Stondemaier lay next to him. Two piles of sentient rocks. They looked oddly content despite their sorry states.


    ¡°Oh, yeah. Hey, Burger,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Why do you like rocks so much?¡±


    Stondemaier writhed. ¡°They say the World was gentle once.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡± But Stondemaier had closed his eyes.


    Gwil bounded after Leira and Ophelia as they marched through the hangar. The townsfolk looked appalled.


    Landing back on Leira¡¯s head, Gwil asked, ¡°How did his hand get cut off?¡±


    ¡°The sheriff,¡± Leira said. ¡°Sliced it clean off with a rope. It happened a dozen heartbeats before you took him down. Unlucky.¡±


    Ansoir groaned.


    ¡°You were inside his nose, yeah?¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Mhm,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Dammit. I would¡¯ve been faster, but his boogers were so thick and sticky.¡±


    They exited the hangar and reached a sparse metal hallway that ran the entire length of the airship. They passed a few offshoot cabins, but Ophelia led them straight to the fore of the vessel. She threw open a hatch-style door at the end and they entered the cockpit.


    Gwil gaped at the view out the window. The airship soared through a mass of dark storm clouds, cutting through like the prow of a boat. From up here, the sky seemed no different than the sea.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    He jumped off of Leira and landed on a complicated-looking control panel covered with instruments and gauges and dials and levers.


    Buzzard swatted at Gwil as he tried to get a better look out the window. The airship¡¯s lighting cast a pale globe of light, but outside its reach, nothing but swirling darkness.


    ¡°Adeline!¡± Leira yelped. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    Gwil turned. He hadn¡¯t noticed that the three other people in the cockpit besides Buzzard.


    Leira stared at the fancy-looking woman who was resting her hand on Buzzard¡¯s shoulder. She was twice as tall as the doctor.


    ¡°You wretched girl,¡± Adeline said. ¡°If Buzzy wasn¡¯t vouching for you, I might throw you overboard.¡± She was smiling, though.


    ¡°Buzzy?¡± Gwil squeaked.


    ¡°Doctor Buzzard and I are long-time lovers,¡± Adeline said proudly. She looked down at Buzzard and fluttered her eyes.


    Leira looked stunned. Her face said: I would not have put those two together even if they were the only two survivors of a second Apocalypse.


    ¡°Hi, Leira,¡± said a small voice from the corner.


    ¡°Oh my gosh! Bethany!¡± Leira ran over and gave the woman a big hug.


    Gwil grinned. Bethany had a gentle face, the sort that endeared you to her immediately.


    ¡°I¡¯m confused. What all happened here?¡± Leira said.


    Buzzard lifted his goggles and put an arm around Adeline¡¯s waist. He would¡¯ve needed to stand on his chair to reach her shoulders.


    ¡°In the wake of the Kaia disaster, dearest Adeline proved her brilliance by gathering as many of the servants and townsfolk as she could.¡±


    ¡°The ones I deemed likeable, at least,¡± Adeline said, chortling. She bent down and kissed Buzzard on the forehead. His blue cheeks blushed with a touch of pink.


    ¡°I must say,¡± Adeline continued, ¡°I am quite disappointed in Bethany for not having seen through your fa?ade, Lady Leira. She should¡¯ve been able to smell it on you.¡±


    Leira grinned. ¡°That¡¯s not fair. I¡¯m a spectacular actress.¡±


    Gwil jumped back to Leira¡¯s shoulder so he could join the conversation. ¡°Were a lot of people left behind? What will the Leviathan do to them?¡±


    ¡°We can only guess at that,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°And we shouldn¡¯t if we value our sanity. Heehee. Not everyone can be saved, Gwilym. You¡¯d be wise to learn that. The World is not so kind, and the Hells grow ever more gluttonous. I wonder though, do you know which Monarch that was?¡±


    ¡°Anesidyra,¡± Leira said.


    Buzzard made a choking noise. ¡°The Centipede Queen? That¡¯s very unfortunate. You shouldn¡¯t have told me that. Now I wish I¡¯d built a bigger airship.¡±


    The fourth and last person in the cockpit, Dwillard, finally spoke. ¡°Ah! There you are, Gwil! I was looking all over the place while they were talking to you. I couldn¡¯t figure out what was going on. You¡¯re so miniscule. That¡¯s badass.¡±


    Gwil gave him a small thumbs up. ¡°Thanks again for your help, man. None of this would¡¯ve happened without you.¡±


    Dwillard swooned and fell back into his chair.


    Ansoir groaned.


    Adeline bowed low. ¡°Please forgive my terrible manners, Lady Ophelia. I forgot myself in all this havoc. I assure you, there¡¯s no one better to treat Lord Ansoir¡¯s injuries than my lover, Buzzy.¡±


    ¡°Actually, heehee, I¡¯m not a surgeon, so there are many people better suited to this than me. There may even be a couple aboard this very airship. But I am always keen to improve my skills. I have narcotics for the pain, and I will rig something up to cauterize the stump, and that should be sufficient.¡±


    Buzzard pointed Ophelia toward a chair, and she sat Ansoir down in it. Then, the doctor set to preparing his medical things.


    ¡°Ahhh!¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°What if that big ship chases after us?¡±


    ¡°They can¡¯t,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Right you are, Megrim Daughter,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°That kind of ship does not possess the capability of simple, linear travel. It can only warp. That is why it¡¯s called a warpship.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Buzzard,¡± Leira cut in. ¡°Do you have any idea how Gwil might grow back to his normal size? I¡¯ve never seen this before, a Hallow getting¡­ stuck in their Invoke.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm, heehee. Neither have I. But I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll work itself out. It¡¯s a design of his Nirva, after all.¡± Buzzard yanked some wires out of the control panel, then swore at the ensuing puff of flames.


    ¡°It is a rather unusual Invoke. Not as fantastical as some, but devilishly complicated if you consider the minutiae of the thing. Look at him, breathing, talking, heart beating, the body working in perfect harmony despite being under a thousandth of its normal size. The sheer number of alterations is astounding. Imagine the complexity of the nervous system.¡± He shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s no wonder there¡¯s a learning curve.¡±


    ¡°Cool,¡± Gwil said. ¡°It¡¯s no big deal. I can get used to it.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous,¡± Leira snapped. ¡°It would be a huge deal if you were stuck like that. I don¡¯t want to carry you around on my shoulder all the time.¡± She rubbed her chin. ¡°But it is useful to be able to stuff you in my pocket whenever you misbehave.¡±


    ¡°Okay, Lord Ansoir,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Which do you want first: the narcotic or the cauterization?¡±


    Ansoir groaned.


    ¡°Just kidding. Heehee.¡±


    Buzzard stuck a syringe into the crook of Ansoir¡¯s elbow and pushed the plunger. The doctor bobbed his head, counting down the time for the painkiller to take effect. Ansoir lost consciousness, and Ophelia cupped his cheek with her hand.


    Then Buzzard unwrapped the field bandage. Gwil cringed at the strips of bloody flesh that came off with it, all stringy like melted cheese.


    ¡°This is why I never go anywhere without my forceps,¡± Buzzard said, clicking them together. He picked up a red-hot metal plate and held it to Ansoir¡¯s arm.


    It sizzled and the smell of burnt flesh filled the cockpit. Gwil buried his face in Leira¡¯s hair. He¡¯d found that smells were overwhelmingly powerful when he was small. Unfortunately, Leira¡¯s hair didn¡¯t smell very good either.


    ¡°Done,¡± Buzzard said. Ansoir hadn¡¯t even twitched. ¡°There will be some nasty scarring, but as I said, I¡¯m not a surgeon.¡±


    For the first time since Gwil had met her, Ophelia seemed to relax. Though her expression remained unchanged, the difference was palpable.


    ¡°Hey Buzzy, listen,¡± Leira said. ¡°This is urgent. We can¡¯t be staying on this airship. We need to go north. Is there any way we can jump ship?¡±


    ¡°Hmm, of course there is. North, you say? Hmm. Why north?¡±


    Leira looked at Gwil, who shrugged.


    ¡°We¡¯re looking for Ashkana,¡± she said.


    ¡°Mmm. Mmmm. Yes. Heehee. Ultima Thule! That makes perfect sense. The last piece of the puzzle, yet it only reveals an even bigger puzzle. Well, you can disembark using my jetpack, which also has a parachute, as every jetpack should.¡±


    ¡°Hey, you didn¡¯t tell me about a parachute,¡± Dwillard said.


    ¡°Good thing,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°The parachute only works once, Dwillard. Now, quit dilly-dallying and give her the jetpack. Why are you still wearing it anyway, you fool?¡±


    Dwillard unstrapped the jetpack, and looking crestfallen, handed it to Leira.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mope,¡± Buzzard snapped. ¡°It¡¯s unbecoming of a genius¡¯s top assistant. Heehee. I have a second jetpack, of course.¡±


    Dwillard pumped his fists.


    Buzzard turned back to Leira and Gwil. ¡°You¡¯ll have a smoother landing than us, I suspect.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°But we have some business to settle. I did not rescue all these people solely out of the goodness of my heart. I was aware that saving them aligned with your motives, Gwilym. I am keen on having you as a debtor, and I declare that you owe me. Is that acceptable?¡±


    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t,¡± Leira said. ¡°Go fuck yourself.¡±


    Dwillard and Bethany gasped. Adeline raised her hand as if to slap Leira, but Buzzard caught her wrist.


    ¡°Nah, that¡¯s fair,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Gwil! He¡¯s been trying to save his own skin this whole time,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Marvelous,¡± Buzzard said, ignoring her. ¡°I am gambling on you, Gwilym, and I expect a tremendous return. I wonder though, heehee, do you realize exactly how far to the south we are?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯d you mean?¡± Leira snapped.


    ¡°Well, Mikara is one of the southernmost points in the western hemisphere. I¡¯ll be flying the airship over a short stretch of the Pacificum Sea, and we¡¯ll be landing on Arleen, which is home to Port Baktun¡ªthe final tip of habitable land in these parts. Only the impenetrable Nadir lays beyond.¡±


    ¡°WHAT?¡± Leira screamed. ¡°Fucking hell, I didn¡¯t realize I¡¯d ended up so far south. I thought we were at least kind of close to the equator.¡±


    ¡°You could not have been more wrong,¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°Oh wow,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Don¡¯t be like that, Leira. This is gonna be fun and we¡¯ll get to see a lot of stuff.¡±


    Leira tugged at two fistfuls of hair on her scalp.


    ¡°Now,¡± Buzzard said, ¡°which of you will pilot the jetpack?¡±


    ¡°Me, obviously,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Allow me to instruct you.¡±


    ***


    Buzzard escorted Gwil and Leira back to the hangar.


    ¡°Excuse me, miss?¡± a woman said, stepping out from the gaggle of servants. She had a baby in her arm, and another in a pack on her back.


    ¡°Sophia!¡± Gwil said.


    She looked around, confused, and then spotted him atop Leira¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Oh, my goodness! I¡¯m so sorry that happened to you.¡±


    ¡°We owe you,¡± Gwil squeaked.


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Leira said. ¡°Sorry I was such a bitch to you before. I was playing a character.¡±


    ¡°Owe me?¡± Sophia said, hand to her heart. ¡°I have my freedom because of you. My children will grow up free because of you. Not if I had a million years could I express my gratitude. But never mind all that¡ªI have something for you.¡±


    An older lady who¡¯d been standing behind Sophia dragged out two bulky objects.


    ¡°Our backpacks!¡± Leira said. ¡°How?¡±


    Sophia smiled. ¡°I spotted them while we were evacuating¡ªI recognized them. And I knew it had to be you two that had destroyed the mines. I could just feel it. I¡¯m so glad I can do something for you, even if it''s just a small help.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a huge help,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Thanks so much,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But we were gonna free everyone anyway. So Leira still owes you.¡±


    ¡°Huh? What do you want me to¡­¡± She opened her backpack and began rifling through it. ¡°Uh, do you like clothes? These are all ugly ¡®cause they¡¯re his but¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey Doc,¡± Gwil said. ¡°What are you gonna do with all these people? Where are you taking them?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Gwilym. I have a very wealthy associate who lives on an enormous compound, and he is always happy to take workers and refugees. I expect he will be a tad bit surprised, though. Heehee.¡±


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°That doesn¡¯t work for me. It sounds shitty. And it sounds exactly the same as Podexia. And a lot of them might have homes to get back to.¡±


    ¡°Gwilym,¡± Buzzard said, lifting his goggles. ¡°I swear on my mother¡¯s soul that they will be treated well. They will not be slaves. I will do everything in my power to ensure their safety and comfort. Every one of them will be free to leave, and I will offer whatever aid I can to help them return home, if that is what they wish. However, they must be treated for their Kaia withdrawals first.


    ¡°Fortunately, my friend is ludicrously wealthy, and a uniquely benevolent person. A philanthropist of the highest order, and a far better man than myself. If I didn¡¯t do right by these people, I¡¯d be breaking our agreement. And I am serious about having you in my debt. I will call upon you.¡±


    Gwil nodded. ¡°Thanks. I take back what I said when we met. Your mom would be proud of you.¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s lips quivered as he hastily lowered his goggles.


    ¡°Fuck it,¡± Leira said. She plucked a petal from her eyeflower and held it out to Sophia. ¡°I know it looks dead, but it¡¯s not. Plant it in the ground wherever you settle, and anything you grow in the vicinity will flourish.¡±


    Sophia stared at the wilted lotus petal in her palm as if it were a priceless jewel. She closed her eyes and brought it to her lips. ¡°You¡¯re like an angel.¡±


    Leira smiled.


    ¡°Heehee. Lady Leira, might I have one of those as well?¡± Buzzard said. ¡°I¡¯m terribly curious about the Megrim roots.¡±


    ¡°Go fuck yourse-¡± Leira stopped herself. ¡°Actually, sure. Why not?¡± She winced as she plucked another petal. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll find something useful.¡±