《Fools in the Garden [Progression Sci-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.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    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.¡± This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    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.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    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.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    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.  Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    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.


    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.

 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.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    ¡°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.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    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. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    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.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    ¡°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.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    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!¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    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.


    A gentle hand squeezed Gwil¡¯s shoulder. He turned and saw the man who¡¯d been working next to him.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    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.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°At least it looks good,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re like a walking book.¡±


    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.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    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.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    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.