《Fools in the Garden [Progression, Sci-Fantasy, Adventure] [Book 1 Complete]》


 Chapter One - 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.


    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.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°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.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    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.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    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 content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    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.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


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


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


    ¡°O-Ooh!¡± Gwil sputtered.


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


    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, healing. 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 hours.¡±


    ¡°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!¡±


    What Came Before


    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.


    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.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    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.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


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


    ¡°Ubiquitous,¡± Gwil said.


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


    ¡°What¡¯d you mean?¡± Gwil said.


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


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


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


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


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


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


    ¡°But-¡±


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


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


    ¡°Promise me.¡±


    ¡°Okay, I promise.¡±


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


    ¡°Leira?¡± he said.


    She grunted.


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


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


    Gwil really wanted to ride in an airship.


    ***


    ¡°Finally,¡± Leira said.


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


    ¡°Woah! Is that a car?¡±


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


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


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


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


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


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


    Gwil gaped. The whole thing was so huge.


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


    ¡°State your business,¡± said Toothpick.


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


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


    ¡°State your business,¡± said Cigar.


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


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


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


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


    ¡°What?¡± Gwil said.


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


    ¡°Can we still go?¡± Gwil said.


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

 Chapter Seven – Beautiful Surfaces

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


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


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


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


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


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


    ¡°Ah, I see,¡± Leira muttered.


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


    ¡°Sophia,¡± she whimpered.


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


    ¡°Huh?¡±


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


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


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


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


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


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


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


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


    Leira shrugged and nodded.


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


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


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


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


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


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


    ¡°It¡¯s million, isn¡¯t it?¡±


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


    Gwil shook his head.


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


    ¡°What about all the slaves? Do those people know?¡±


    Leira nodded and gestured broadly. ¡°Out of sight, out of mind.¡±


    The people who passed by gave Gwil and Leira a wide berth. In their dirty clothes, they were like the stain on an otherwise immaculate dress.


    Gwil looked around. It was so noisy¡ªall the sounds were trapped by the confines of the canyon. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. There¡¯re slaves for this? For what? For fun?¡±


    ¡°Well, I-¡±


    It hit them both at the same time. A smell. A wonderful smell. A door had opened next to them. Gwil smelled meats and seafood and exotic spices that he¡¯d never smelled before. A restaurant! In the window, a fountained bubbled with liquid chocolate.


    ¡°Leira!¡±


    ¡°I know. I see it,¡± she said, deadly serious. ¡°We need some money.¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯ll get us some.¡±


    They went back to the main street. Gwil followed as Leira led the way through.


    The ground shook. Excitement rippled through the crowd as everyone began clearing the road. Gwil and Leira were swept up and separated.


    ¡°Ooh!¡±


    Gwil forgot everything, because a giant rock was lumbering down the street. The thing was wide, shaped a bit like a bipedal turtle. About four meters tall, its body and limbs consisted entirely of hewn boulders of various sizes and shapes, all rolling against each other to generate movement. Raised across its shoulders like a yoke was a wooden, curtained structure. Nestled within a cutout in the rock-person¡¯s torso was a metallic core that glowed blue with what Gwil recognized as Kaia.


    ¡°What is that?¡± Gwil asked the mustached man standing beside him.


    The man didn¡¯t answer, so Gwil poked him in the ribs.


    ¡°What is that?¡±


    ¡°One of Burgermeister Jaqlov¡¯s famous Taluses,¡± the man said with a sneer.


    An alarm wailed. Gwil looked around for Leira but failed to find her. The Talus was walking away, and Gwil wanted a better look. He pushed his way through the crowd and made it back to the empty street, where he stood just behind the Talus.


    Black smog wisped from a port on its back. The rocks that made up its body were smooth as river stones. A wide rectangular block served as the body. The limbs utilized long, flat stones and ball-shaped joints. The arms ended in stubby-fingered hands. The flapping curtains on the yoke revealed two chairs inside. You can ride around in it!


    People were shouting. A flash of red.


    Everything cracked.


    Gwil flipped through the air and landed hard on his back. His vision faded. Pain flared, and then melted away as his Nirva came to life. His sight bloomed back into clarity. Ethereal mist steamed off his skin, poured from his mouth like breath in cold weather.


    Gwil sat up, dumbstruck. Everyone was gawking at him, many were laughing. He turned and saw a big red object. After a blink, he recognized the skimmer that had passed them above the city.


    One of the vehicle¡¯s gullwing doors flipped open, and a red-faced man came storming out, flapping his arms and shouting. Gwil couldn¡¯t make out what the man was saying because his head was still ringing.


    The man stood over him and then hawked and spat.


    A loogie landed on Gwil¡¯s shoulder. He wondered if this guy was drunk or addled.


    ¡°Worthless scum!¡± the man screamed, stomping his foot.

 Chapter Eight – Firstborn Son

    ¡°Useless, braindead menial!¡± the man shrieked. ¡°You¡¯ve ruined my skimmer. You could¡¯ve at least been polite enough to die.¡± He pointed a pudgy finger at Gwil. ¡°You¡¯ll wish you were dead. Go! Kiss the grill of my precious 917 Crimson Stinger. Kiss the dent!¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Still a bit dazed, Gwil didn¡¯t know what to make of this. The raving guy was short, wearing sunglasses, a silver shirt, short shorts, and furry sandals. His hair was blond and very puffy, a bit like an afro. And he wore a gem-studded tiara atop the floof.


    Gwil grimaced and then looked around, hoping for a clue. Much of the crowd had dispersed. He could see them hurrying away. Those that remained seemed amused.


    The man ripped off his sunglasses and threw them on the ground. Then he stomped them to bits.


    Gwil stared, aghast.


    The man spat at him again. Gwil rolled out of the way and got to his feet. He held up his hands. ¡°It¡¯s okay, man. No hard feelings. Let¡¯s get you some help.¡± He was sure this guy was either insane or shitfaced. Erwin the barman had taught Gwil that kindness was often the best way to deal with a disturbed drunk.


    ¡°Help me?!¡± the man bellowed. ¡°Kiss my fucking skimmer, you savage, animal piece of trash! How dare you stand on your feet and look at me? Kneel!¡± Veins bulged out of his forehead and the cords in his flabby throat were taut. His cheeks were as red as the skimmer.


    Gwil clapped him on the back. ¡°You gotta be more careful, pal. You could¡¯ve killed someone. It¡¯s dangerous to ride a horse if you¡¯re drunk, let alone that crazy machine.¡±


    The man spasmed¡ªeye twitching, knees wobbling. Gwil hoped he wouldn¡¯t have a seizure. This guy was sicker than he¡¯d thought.


    Gwil backed away and moved around to the front of the skimmer. There might have been a small dent, and a speck of paint had chipped off. As he examined the vehicle, Gwil rubbed his hip, which had taken the brunt of the impact. It felt tender, but nothing terrible. Nirva was something else.


    Gwil whipped around at the movement in his peripheral and caught the crazy man by the wrist. He had been about to strike Gwil upside the head with his fuzzy sandal.


    ¡°Braindead cretin! I¡¯ll have you drawn and quartered! I am Lord Ansoir Jaqlov, Heir to Chateau Podexia.¡±


    Gwil gently pushed the man away from him. Very theatrically, the little lord stumbled backward seven paces and then fell onto his back.


    Stifling laughter¡ªwhich he knew could make this type of drunk see red¡ªGwil went to help him up.


    Ansoir rolled away and got onto his knees. He leaned forward and started pounding his fists against the ground. ¡°Where are my guards?¡± he screeched.


    Gwil turned and hurriedly walked away. He was giving up; this guy didn¡¯t want to be helped. And if he really was the Burger¡¯s son, best not to get involved. Oh, man. Leira is gonna be mad.


    He turned at a flurry of footsteps¡ªtoo late to stop Ansoir clinging to him like a piggybacking child. Manicured fingernails began clawing at Gwil¡¯s face. The bastard was going for his eyes.


    Gwil flipped Ansoir over his shoulder, dropped him on the ground at his feet.


    ¡°Enough,¡± Gwil said.


    The entire crowd had fled at this point¡ªmost flocking to the side streets or huddling along the storefronts. It was clear that, though they were frightened, they wanted to watch the debacle. Gwil scanned the crowd but couldn¡¯t find Leira.


    Crawling on the ground, Ansoir scurried back over to the skimmer. The big stone Talus stood there too.


    Shit. Gwil heard a rumbling sound¡ªgetting closer. He took his backpack off and tossed it between two buildings. It seemed like he might be in trouble.


    A big vehicle came around the bend. It had wheels and a wagon bed on the back. Gwil realized that must be a truck¡ªcool! And it was not just one truck, but three.


    Gwil could¡¯ve run, but he stayed where he was. He kind of had a bone to pick with this place now. It all seemed like a sick joke. Was that obnoxious guy actually in charge of things? And the idiot was enslaving people just so they could keep this stupid festival going?


    The three vehicles fanned out before coming to squealing halts, encircling Gwil where he stood. Nirva burned white-hot in his veins, but he put his hands up.


    Guards poured out, twelve in all, dressed in the same uniforms as Cigar and Toothpick. Most carried spears, but a few had clubs.


    They rushed him. His hands a flurry, Gwil batted their weapons away, disarming the ones he could. A sweeping kick knocked two of them over. But a few had gotten around behind him. A woman struck the back of his head with her club, and he saw stars.


    ¡°Kill him! Cut his head off right now!¡± Ansoir shouted.


    Gwil staggered, and they piled on top of him. He tried to scramble away. He didn¡¯t want to start beating the shit out of them or things might get out of hand.


    Lowering his shoulder, Gwil plowed through a few pairs of legs, buying himself some space. He was surprised at how well it worked. Despite their weaponry, Gwil could toy with these guards, and toss them around as easily as if they were strawmen.


    The guards gave him some space after he broke through the pile, forming a line and brandishing their weapons defensively.


    ¡°Kill him, you worthless ingrates!¡± Ansoir screamed. ¡°This piece of trash struck your lord. I¡¯ll mount his head above my bed.¡±


    ¡°No can do, my lord,¡± one guard said. ¡°The sheriff¡¯s been clear that able-bodied individuals are not to be executed. Remember the macaroni incident?¡±


    Ansoir lost it at that, like a child throwing a tantrum. Gwil blew a raspberry at the idiot.


    One guard launched their spear at Gwil. He snatched it out of the air and went wide-eyed. The flowing Nirva felt comfortable. The voices went quiet, like a whispering breeze. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    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.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


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


    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!¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    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. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    A gentle hand squeezed Gwil¡¯s shoulder. He turned and saw the man who¡¯d been working next to him.


    The man held out Gwil¡¯s dropped pickaxe. With his other hand, he held a finger to his lips. Quiet.


    Gwil took his pickaxe back, gripped the handle tight. He should¡¯ve been able to crush it with his hands. He needed to get this collar off.


    He wasn¡¯t worried. Not a single drop of doubt. Leira was out there. She¡¯d come up with something clever. He just had to meet her halfway.


    Gwil inched closer to the scaffolding as the procession made their way up and out of the pit.


    As Gwil climbed, he saw the big redheaded man standing at the edge of the pit. He had a bundle of pickaxes in his arms.


    Gwil liked that guy. When he reached the top, he tapped him on the shoulder.


    The man turned, looked down at Gwil, and said, ¡°Fuck off.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Fuck off.¡±


    Gwil frowned. The redheaded guy was nice to everyone else. He¡¯d been hoping they could wreck this place together.


    ***


    Back in the Sty. One hundred people collapsed.


    Sat against the cavern wall, Gwil stared at the heap of bodies. They couldn¡¯t have been stripped of their wills. Not fully. Embers remained. The fact that they got back on their feet every day proved it.


    They just needed a chance.


    Gwil would get every single one of them out.


    It wasn¡¯t so much that he made a decision. The way he saw it, there was no other option. No matter what Leira might¡¯ve been planning, he wouldn¡¯t leaving until that was done.


    He wanted to see them free. He wanted them to ransack all those fancy stores and restaurants. He wanted to hear them laughing as they feasted. He wanted them to know that it was finally over.


    He just needed to get the collar off.


    As he sat down in his spot, Gwil watched the redhaired guy helping whoever he could, however he could.


    Gwil leaned over and tapped Diom¡¯s shoulder. The old man jolted awake, wide-eyed with fright.


    ¡°Hey, Diom. Sorry. But who is that guy?¡± he asked, pointing.


    Diom¡¯s smile transfigured his face. ¡°That¡¯s Cort. He¡¯s a gift. Compassionate. Tireless. Got here about a month ago.¡± He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. ¡°There¡¯ve been a lot like him. People like that keep us going. Until they fall apart. They can only wear the mask for so long.¡±


    Gwil stood up. ¡°Gah, keep it together, old man. I already told you that you¡¯re gonna get out soon.¡±


    He strode over to Cort, the iron ball bouncing behind him.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Gwil grabbed Cort¡¯s shoulder and spun him around. ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡±


    Cort¡¯s expression twisted with fury, and then he laughed. ¡°Touch me again and I¡¯ll kill you.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t do shit,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re a coward.¡±


    Cort grabbed him and slammed his forehead into Gwil¡¯s nose.


    Gwil shook off tears and blood. ¡°Useless. They should be free, or you should be dead, if you were worth a damn.¡±


    People scrambled out of the way as Cort bull-rushed Gwil into the wall, pinned him against it. ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± Cort hissed.


    ¡°You can help them,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Why haven¡¯t you done it?¡±


    Cort released Gwil, looked around as if questioning his sanity, then palmed his forehead. ¡°Goddamn, you are a special kind of idiot, aren¡¯t you? Keep your fucking voice down.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯ll be better off if they hear me. If you had any guts at all¡­ If you die, you die. Why haven¡¯t you tried?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know what the hell you¡¯re talking about, lunatic,¡± Cort snarled.


    ¡°I-,¡± Gwil started, but Cort jabbed his knuckles into his throat. Gwil fell to one knee, gasping.


    ¡°This is a delicate situation,¡± Cort said. ¡°Not some child¡¯s game. Their lives are at stake.¡±


    Gwil jumped to his feet and shoved Cort away. The large man seemed surprised to be sent staggering backward. Recovering, Cort charged forward, looking keen to rip Gwil in half.


    The tattoo-covered woman appeared between them with her arms spread. ¡°Stop it! You utter jackasses.¡±


    ¡°Move, Isca,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Bite me, you hopped up gremlin,¡± she said. ¡°Sit down. Let¡¯s act like adults, eh?¡±


    Gwil flopped down. Isca followed suit, and then, after a moment, Cort, grumbling and glaring.


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s talk,¡± Isca said in a condescendingly sweet voice. ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡±


    Gwil and Cort answered simultaneously.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna get everyone out of here. He needs to help me.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything. This guy is crazy.¡±


    Isca smiled. ¡°Cort, why are you giving the newcomer a hard time? I remember how much bitching and moaning you were doing.¡±


    Cort gasped and sputtered. He seemed too appalled to muster any coherence. Finally, he shook his head. ¡°Drop it, Isca. We don¡¯t want anything to do with him.¡±


    ¡°You sound like the crazy one,¡± she said. ¡°Of course we do. He¡¯s Hallowed.¡±


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil whisper-shouted. He leaned in. ¡°You guys were already planning to break out?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Isca said.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna have to kill him,¡± Cort said under his breath.


    ¡°What¡¯s the hold up?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s only been a month,¡± Cort said with a sneer.


    ¡°A month?¡± Gwil blew a raspberry. ¡°How many people died while you¡¯ve been sitting on your ass?¡±


    Cort punched him in the face. Isca thumped them both on the backs of their heads.


    ¡°Behave! What¡¯s your problem, Cort? This is a blessing. He wants to help us. Look at him. Look how eager he is even after you beat him up.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, running around shouting, real helpful,¡± Cort mumbled.


    Gwil grimaced. ¡°Well, I am sorry about that. I wasn¡¯t thinking. But you wouldn¡¯t talk to me.¡±


    ¡°No shit I wouldn¡¯t,¡± Cort said. ¡°Every guard¡¯s got their eyes on you cause of that collar you¡¯re wearing.¡±


    ¡°Pssht,¡± Isca said. ¡°No one¡¯s listening, anyway. Long as we¡¯re locked up, the guards don¡¯t give a flying fuck.¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow then,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°See?¡± Cort yelled.


    Isca went wide-eyed. ¡°No! No. We can¡¯t do that.¡± She laughed. ¡°We don¡¯t even know your name. And we¡¯ve been working on a plan, but there¡¯s still a lot to figure out.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m Gwil,¡± he said.


    ¡°There¡¯s everything to figure out,¡± Cort said with a grunt. ¡°If we fuck up, it¡¯s only gonna make things worse for everyone,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We just won¡¯t fuck up. I¡¯m gonna do it tomorrow, no matter what.¡±


    Isca looked at Cort, horrified.


    The redheaded man, however, looked triumphant. ¡°Told you I¡¯d have to kill him.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯ll be easy,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I have a friend on the outside. She¡¯s coming for me. She¡¯s smart and magical. And if I get this collar off, I¡¯ll stomp through these guards like they¡¯re bugs.¡±


    Isca grinned wide. ¡°See?¡± she said back at Cort.


    Cort started massaging his temples. ¡°What¡¯s your Invoke?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Your sorcery, your wish. You¡¯re a Hallow. What can you do?¡±


    Erm. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about that,¡± Gwil said.


    Cort groaned. ¡°Goddammit. I should already be long gone.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been saying,¡± Gwil said.


    Isca laughed. ¡°Cort isn¡¯t some hero. He¡¯s just a thief with a heart too big for his own good.¡±


    ¡°You guys are thieves? Cool!¡±


    ¡°Not me,¡± Isca said. ¡°I¡¯m nothing. I¡¯ve been here for two years. Cort popped in for a job, but he got snagged up by that damned little thing called morality. We¡¯ve been working on a way to get everyone out.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a thief,¡± Cort said, smacking the ground. ¡°I¡¯m a mercenary. And yeah, I got imprisoned on purpose. Some Vermin commander hired me to steal a bunch of Kaia.¡±


    The gate clanged open.


    ¡°Dinner time,¡± Isca said.

 Chapter Thirteen – Flowers and Stone

    The lumpy stew wasn¡¯t half bad. Gwil had gone to the big pot with the others and helped pass it out. Then they¡¯d returned to their corner of the cavern and sat down to eat.


    ¡°You look a damn sight better than yesterday,¡± Isca said.


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°I think I was just hungry. Hey, how come you guys aren¡¯t blue?¡±


    ¡°Takes time,¡± Cort said. He held out his arm. ¡°You can see here; my veins are starting to glow a bit.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem like it¡¯s gonna happen to me,¡± Isca said. ¡°I¡¯ve been worse places than here.¡±


    ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡± Gwil asked.


    Isca opened her mouth, but Cort cut in.


    ¡°We have no plan. Just half-baked shit, which is why doing this tomorrow is insane. When I was just getting myself out¡­ But I can¡¯t just¡­ It¡¯s just so¡­ Argh!¡± He slammed his empty soup cup at the ground, and then it bounced up and hit him in the face.


    Gwil laughed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter then. It¡¯s not like you¡¯re gonna come up with something all of a sudden. And my friend will be here. She could probably do it all on her own.¡±


    ¡°Er, who is this person exactly?¡± Isca said. ¡°What are they gonna do?¡±


    ¡°I dunno,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But her name¡¯s Leira. She¡¯s the smartest person I¡¯ve ever met. And I trust her no matter what.¡±


    Isca gave Cort a playful shove. ¡°Half-baked shit is better than nothing.¡± She looked back at Gwil. ¡°We think the best time is right before shift-end. The guards get antsy. We all still have our pickaxes. And the best part is the other shift will be on their way in. We can get them. And just like that, we¡¯ve got two hundred people. Damn near an army.¡±


    She shoved Cort again.


    ¡°Not everyone¡¯s in fighting shape,¡± he mumbled. ¡°Right. We don¡¯t know how many guards work in the prison. Our guess is somewhere between fifty and a hundred.¡±


    ¡°Ha! That¡¯s nothing,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Cort said. ¡°Don¡¯t laugh when you know jack shit. That could be a hundred armed and trained fighters. We¡¯ll be lucky if half of the prisoners can do anything more than carry themselves. And we gotta protect the rest.¡±


    ¡°They will fight,¡± Isca said. ¡°You¡¯re a fool if you don¡¯t think they¡¯ll be rabid for just a sliver of a chance.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a chance,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We¡¯re gonna do it for sure.¡±


    Cort shook his head. ¡°If we get out of the mines and meet up with the other shift, then that¡¯s only the beginning. We¡¯ll be able to get control of things inside the prison. But getting out is a whole ¡®nother story.¡±


    Gwil stayed quiet.


    ¡°We can¡¯t climb up the mountains. There¡¯s too many of us. It¡¯s too steep. And the Podexians would shred us if we tried. Going through the wall is the only way.¡±


    ¡°The wall it is,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°And we¡¯ve got nothing for it,¡± Cort said, scowling.


    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s a gate,¡± Gwil said. ¡°That¡¯s how they brought me in. We can just walk through.¡±


    Isca laughed while Cort grabbed a fistful of Gwil¡¯s shirt and yanked him forward. ¡°I know about the fucking gate. Everyone knows about the gate. They don¡¯t just leave it open!¡±


    ¡°Jaqlov has a lot more men outside the prison,¡± Isca said. ¡°The ones stuck in here are the ones he doesn¡¯t care about. They¡¯re just a higher class of slave, really. And there¡¯s the sheriff. He¡¯s Hallowed and a real mean bastard.¡±


    ¡°I met him,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I can beat him. Oh, but what about my collar? I probably can¡¯t beat him if I have it on.¡±


    ¡°Probably?¡± Cort scoffed. He crawled over and pushed Gwil¡¯s head to the side so he could look at the collar. ¡°Heh. Alright. I can break it for you.¡±


    ¡°Easy. All set then.¡±


    Isca nodded. ¡°We can do this. Jaqlov is too arrogant to see that his kingdom is fragile. He doesn¡¯t think we can get up, because he¡¯s had his boot on our fucking necks for so long. If we can get out of the prison, I¡¯m gonna-¡±


    ¡°No, Isca,¡± Cort barked. ¡°Enough of that. It¡¯s psychotic.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I need to destroy this place,¡± Isca said. ¡°It¡¯s not a choice.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I thought that¡¯s-¡±


    ¡°No. I mean I¡¯m gonna completely annihilate it. There will be nothing left.¡±


    Cort buried his face in his hands and groaned.


    ¡°Woah, how?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°In its unrefined state, Kaia is highly volatile,¡± Isca said. ¡°Explosive. That¡¯s why we have to mine it with hand tools. If I set something off in one of the veins, it¡¯ll cause a chain reaction. I will turn this mountain into dust.¡±


    ¡°Cool!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not cool,¡± Cort said. ¡°It¡¯s lunacy. The explosion would be massive. We¡¯d need to get past the wall, and then get so far clear that we might as well just run the fuck away. On top of that, we gotta waste time rigging up a detonator. It¡¯s stupid.¡±


    ¡°I told you, Cort,¡± Isca said softly. ¡°I have to do this.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do anything.¡± Cort stood and waved her off. ¡°Risking lives for some symbolic garbage,¡± he muttered as he stalked off.


    Isca laughed. ¡°He¡¯s a good guy underneath.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Gwil said. ¡°What¡¯s with all the writing on your body?¡±


    The elegant lettering looked like it was moving. Gwil found it entrancing.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Isca said. ¡°Just a bunch of garbage.¡±


    ¡°At least it looks good,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re like a walking book.¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    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.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Ugh. Leira rubbed the corner of her eye with her knuckle. ¡°That¡¯s so luxurious, my lord. My name is Lady Leira, and it¡¯s my pleasure to meet you.¡±


    He held out his hand for Leira to kiss. She did, and then she said, ¡°I hoped we might take a ride together on this magnificent walking rock.¡±


    Ansoir¡¯s eyes bugged out. ¡°Of course. That can be arranged. This is my personal Talus. His name is Brock. Impressive, eh?¡±


    Leira tittered in the manner of Adeline and wished she could slap herself. ¡°Is there any champagne left? Shall we enjoy a glass while you treat me to a tour of the estate?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s always champagne,¡± Ansoir slurred. He flopped down in his chair and popped the cork on another bottle, spilling the foamy liquid all over his lap.


    Leira took the seat beside him, thankful that an armrest divided the two chairs. If this encounter ended without her gouging Ansoir¡¯s eyes out with her thumbs, she¡¯d consider it a great success.


    ¡°Get moving, Brock, you goddamn oaf!¡± Ansoir screeched. ¡°Weren¡¯t you listening? Bring us around the manor.¡± He turned to Leira and sighed. ¡°The problem with Taluses is that you cannot whip them.¡±


    Brock moved, the boulders spinning and clattering. The air around the Talus had a slight chill because of the Kaia burning in its engine.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen such a thing,¡± Leira said, leaning out to better examine the Talus¡¯s mechanisms.


    ¡°My father¡¯s work,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°He whispers to rocks or some such nonsense.¡±


    Leira choked on her champagne. ¡°Is Lord Stondemaier a Hallow?¡±


    ¡°Myes, myes,¡± Ansoir droned. ¡°His Invoke is silly and useless, I always say.¡± He chortled. ¡°There are Hallows who fly and spit fire, and he speaks to rocks so that he can carve them better. Laughable.¡±


    Shit. ¡°Hm. Do you guys have an army of these Taluses?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just it!¡± Ansoir said, jumping to his feet and nearly toppling out of the litter. ¡°He won¡¯t make them fight. We could conquer the entire Mikaran continent, but he insists stone is patif¨C pacifit¨C that it doesn¡¯t want to fight! My father is soft and weak.¡± He stuck his finger in Leira¡¯s face. ¡°His power doesn¡¯t even bring the stone to life. It only awakens a sentience. That¡¯s why the Taluses and the statues need Kaia engines¡ªthey can¡¯t move on their own. My father¡¯s Invoke is what allows them to understand commands, but he only grants them minds with which they can do nothing. Kaia is the true power!¡±


    Leira swatted his hand out of her face. ¡°Can they talk?¡±


    Ansoir laughed and fell back into his seat. ¡°No, only to him. But it¡¯s funny you ask. When I was a child, I always begged my father to teach me to speak to them. I wanted to be fr- Well, they¡¯re nothing more than durable slaves.¡± He stomped his foot on the floor of the litter, which was the top of Brock¡¯s head. ¡°Hurry, you worthless ball of compressed sand. You¡¯re embarrassing yourself in front of this gorgeous woman. I¡¯ll have you ground down.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Leira said. ¡°This is lovely.¡± She fluttered her one eye over the rim of her champagne glass.


    They moved along the front of the manor, past the half of the building that was just a towering chunk of raw marble.


    ¡°No, woman. You must know better than that. Slaves can never be given a drop of leniency.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Leira said. ¡°Speaking of slaves, that reminds me. This is a trifle embarrassing. But one of mine was arrested at the casino. I gleaned he was sent to the Kaia mines?¡±


    ¡°Of course he was,¡± Ansoir said, waving an easy hand. ¡°Rest assured, he¡¯ll find nothing but pain and death.¡±


    ¡°I am glad,¡± Leira said. ¡°But I¡¯m bitter that I did not get to punish him with my own hand, nor see it with my own eye. Might we be able to visit the mines so I can look upon the worthless wretch¡¯s agony?¡± She tittered. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I even ask like that; they are your mines after all.¡±


    ¡°Yes, anything is possible at my behest,¡± Ansoir said.


    ¡°Great, let¡¯s go now.¡±


    Ansoir glanced at her, lip curled in a sneer. ¡°Tomorrow, perhaps, if I feel like it. There¡¯s a gala on tonight, if you haven¡¯t noticed. I won¡¯t waste my evening looking at a pile of stinking slaves.¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow would be perfect,¡± Leira said. ¡°Let¡¯s call it a date.¡±


    ¡°Ohoho, pretum- presumptuous indeed.¡±


    Nice. This had already proven worthwhile. Worst case, she¡¯d booked herself entry to the mines. But she wanted more. Ansoir was so stupid that it¡¯d be wasteful not to exploit him further.


    The Talus rounded a corner to reveal the back of the estate. The lawn gave way to a massive, tiered quarry which had been excavated downward through the canyon wall.


    But that was hardly the impressive part. Leira ¡®oohed¡¯ and ¡®aahed¡¯ and she wasn¡¯t faking it.


    The structure resembled an amphitheater. Arranged throughout were dozens of incredible statues depicting animals, heroic people, monsters, ancient religious idolatry. There was a giraffe, and a three-headed elephant, a golden man with a beard of serpents, a skeleton.


    Like a painting made real.


    ¡°My father¡¯s pride and joy,¡± Ansoir mumbled. ¡°An utter waste of time.¡± He refilled their glasses of champagne.


    Brock continued on. They passed by a big metal warehouse that stood off to the side.


    ¡°What¡¯s in there?¡± Leira asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s my father¡¯s workshop. Abandoned, of course. He doesn¡¯t even work on his sculptures anymore, further proof that it was all a waste of time. Even the manor is half-finished, for god¡¯s sake.¡±


    Leira gasped. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t-¡± Ansoir chewed on the inside of his cheek. ¡°He spends all his time with¡­ my mother. She¡¯s sick. The only work that gets done anymore is in the Kaia mines. Which is the most important thing, yes, but my father let¡¯s Sheriff Jackson oversee the whole operation.¡±


    ¡°Mm,¡± Leira said as she leaned out to get a better look at the inside of the amphitheater. ¡°It¡¯s amazing.¡±


    ¡°Halt, Brock!¡± Ansoir shouted. ¡°Turn around.¡±


    ¡°What? Can¡¯t we go closer?¡± Leira said.


    ¡°No,¡± Ansoir said. He stomped on Brock¡¯s head. ¡°I¡¯m done with this. Bring us back to the party.¡±


    Brock rotated in place and went back toward the front of the manor.


    Uh-oh. Leira leaned closer to Ansoir and said, ¡°They are just rocks, after all. Rather drab, I¡¯d say.¡± She twirled a lock of hair around her finger.


    ¡°Nothing but deranged idiocy,¡± Ansoir spat. He clenched his jaw, but it still quivered.


    How interesting.


    Leira tittered and Ansoir whipped his head around at her laughter, bejeweled afro bouncing, face warped in fury.


    ¡°I underestimated you, my lord,¡± she said. ¡°I thought I pursued the hand of a charming playboy¡ªthat¡¯s your reputation around town. But it¡¯s plain to see that the future of Chateau Podexia rests squarely upon your shoulders. It must be such a burden.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Yes. Everything will be mine.¡±


    ¡°And all this Kaia,¡± Leira said on a heavy breath. ¡°You must be one of the most powerful men in the World.¡± That was far as hell from true. This bumfuck operation was just a leaky pipe. But people were most vulnerable in their delusions.


    ¡°Kaia is power,¡± Ansoir said, making his voice gravelly.


    Leira glanced away so that she could roll her eyes. She almost felt bad for this asshole. He never had a chance at being anything besides a raging piece of shit.


    But that was ideal for her purpose here. ¡°If your father is derelict, why hasn¡¯t he put you in charge? He could enjoy retirement while Podexia thrives under your control, my lord.¡±


    ¡°I ask myself that constantly,¡± Ansoir slurred.


    ¡°It must be frustrating,¡± she said softly, ¡°knowing you¡¯d be such a strong leader.¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is,¡± Ansoir growled.


    ¡°More champagne?¡± Leira asked. Drunk men are such idiots.


    ¡°More champagne!¡± Ansoir uncorked a new bottle and attempted to refill their glasses, but spilled half of it on their shoes. He was so shitfaced that Leira was impressed he hadn¡¯t passed out.


    Perfect. All that liquid courage.


    The little lord knocked the two glasses over with his arm and passed Leira an entire bottle.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind if I do,¡± she said. She took a few swigs. It was damn fine champagne. Her flower could cleanse the alcohol from her body if she needed to be sober, so she could drink as much as she wanted.


    Ansoir popped a bottle for himself and guzzled half of it.


    ¡°Have you asked him about it?¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Asked what?¡± Ansoir said, wiping his mouth.


    ¡°Asked your father about making you Burgermeister.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course. Well, no, not ezact¨C exactly. But you know, perhaps I should. Perhaps I will! He¡¯s an old man. He should enjoy his remaining days. And Jackson, that fucking bastard.¡± His head bobbled with the force of his rambling. ¡°I¡¯ll have him put to death when I¡¯m Burgermeister. Fucking dirty, upstart, pauper thinks he can rule just because he¡¯s a Hallow.


    ¡°And you know what? Frankly, I¡¯m disgusted that my father has not already made me Burgermeister himself. I should be Burgermeister, and everyone knows it!¡±


    ¡°I wonder if he thinks you¡¯re immature,¡± Leira said. ¡°Perhaps if you showed him you¡¯re ready to settle down, he¡¯d see you for the lord you are. I should come with you. You can tell him I¡¯m your bride-to-be.¡±


    ¡°Ladyyyy Leira,¡± Ansoir said, swaying as he leaned closer to her. ¡°You¡¯re smart for a woman. That is a brilliant idea.¡±


    Only through tremendous strength of will did Leira refrain from wrinkling her nose at his rancid breath.


    ¡°It¡¯s only appropriate that I meet your father after all, since I do intend to woo his heir.¡±


    ¡°Brock! Take us to my father¡¯s throne room!¡±


    So easy.


    The Talus changed direction again and began rolling toward a garage-style entrance in the unfinished half of the manor.


    ***


    Clink, clink¡­

 Chapter Fifteen – Stone Cold Love

    The interior of the unfinished manor surprised her, but it probably shouldn¡¯t have. The halls were indistinguishable from the tunnels of a cave. An opulent cave, with walls of white marble, but a cave nevertheless.


    There was some d¨¦cor¡ªtapestries and Kaia sconces. But it had the damp, musty air of a cave, and Leira spotted a rat wriggling through a crack in the stone.


    The cavernous tunnels were large enough that Brock could comfortably roll through.


    Ansoir¡¯s face was ghostly pale, and his sweat splotched his makeup and caused his afro to sag in some places. He looked downright deranged.


    Leira rested her chin in her hand, ready to stifle any laughter. This would be a wonderful disaster.


    The fledgling lord licked his lips, then laughed like a hyena. ¡°This is my father¡¯s private wing, you see. I assure you, the rest of the manor is normal, with wood flooring and proper walls and such, as is befitting of my station.¡±


    Leira grinned. ¡°You worry too much, darling. Just be confident, my lord. What your father needs to see is some bravado.¡±


    Ansoir¡¯s nostrils flared and through bared teeth he said, ¡°No one is as bravadocious as me.¡± He clutched his chest while hyperventilating. The cords in his neck went taut, causing his pudgy jowls to jiggle.


    ¡°Uh, are you alright?¡±


    ¡°Of course I am,¡± he snapped. ¡°I will be Burgermeister. I¡¯m not afraid at all. How dare you even ask me that?¡±


    Leira raised her eyebrows, said nothing.


    Another bark of nervous laughter. Ansoir undid his bowtie and unbuttoned his collar. ¡°Forgive me, Lady Leira. Yesterday, my prized 917 Red Tiger was damaged after some worthless slave walked in front of me while I was driving home. It has me all out of sorts. The man just wandered into the middle of the road while the alarm was going off!¡±


    Leira nodded. ¡°That¡¯s completely understandable. What a clumsy moron.¡±


    Ansoir slumped in his chair, leaning toward her. ¡°Might I inspect the flower in your eye?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t,¡± Leira said. ¡°It¡¯s very poisonous.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen my share of exotic splices, but something about yours is quite¡­ ravishing. I wish we had better surgeons here. I¡¯ve long considered getting an alligator tail. Where did you have yours done?¡±


    ¡°Veirga,¡± Leira said, smiling. ¡°A World-renowned botanical cosmetologist.¡± She tittered. ¡°A friend of mine actually got cantaloupes implanted¡­¡±


    ***


    Clink, clink¡­


    ***


    They stood¡ªor rather Brock stood¡ªbefore a formidable vault-style door. It opened via the huge metal plate rolling into a recess. The door was ajar, open about a third of the way.


    Soft music played inside the throne room, and there were chattering voices, along with sharp claps of stone against stone.


    Ansoir was muttering to himself. Sweat dripped from his afro. They¡¯d been sitting here for ten minutes now.


    Leira cleared her throat.


    Ansoir looked at her like a terrified mouse, his jaw quivering.


    ¡°I see there¡¯s some whiskey there,¡± Leira said. ¡°That¡¯ll help.¡±


    ¡°Brilliant!¡± Ansoir said. He extracted the bottle from the ice bucket and took four healthy swallows. ¡°Alright! Let¡¯s go!¡±


    Leira grimaced as Ansoir leapt out of the litter. It wasn¡¯t terribly high up, but he had time to flail his arms before landing hard and crumpling.


    To the little lord¡¯s credit, he bounced right up. ¡°Brock, you fucking idiot! Why didn¡¯t you lower yourself?¡±


    The Talus raised his boulder-arms in a big shrug. Ansoir did not seem aware enough to construe the gesture as disrespectful.


    As Leira made to climb down, Brock raised his arm in a way that she could use it as a step, and then lowered her down to the ground.


    ¡°Thank you, Brock.¡±


    ¡°Take my arm,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°It¡¯s time I become Burgermeister.¡±


    Leira clung to his arm, giddy with anticipation. She set her face to look as snide as she could.


    Ansoir stumbled over the threshold but, unperturbed, pressed ahead.


    ¡°Father!¡± he barked.


    Leira took in the throne room; it was a stark contrast from the bare marble walls outside.


    The entire high-ceilinged cavern glittered like the night sky. Leira thought it must be obsidian, sprinkled with gemstones. Red tapestries hung from the walls, emblazoned with the Podexian crest¡ªa chain coiled around a pickaxe.


    She tried but failed not to gawk. There were no humans inside, save for the host of guards. She spotted the sheriff among that group, face obscured by the wide brim of his hat. His motorcycle stood beside him.


    They sat at a table off to the side, drinking and playing cards. But the game was on hold as they all stared at Ansoir. Based on their eager expressions, Leira suspected they felt much the same as her.


    Everyone¡ªor thing?¡ªelse in the cavern was a moving statue. Dozens of Taluses. A few had utilitarian designs, like Brock. But most were humanoid¡ªso realistic¡ªjust as incredible as the ones displayed in the amphitheater. Embedded in the chest of each was a blazing heart of Kaia. The statues all danced with each other in some sort of complicated routine.


    In the center of the room was a dais of solid gold with stairs leading up to it. Sat on the throne was an amorphous pile of rubble.


    But then Leira discerned the slumped features, the two cloudy eyes peering out of the mound-shaped head, and the slit mouth below.


    Stondemaier? Fucking hell.


    He was malformed like molten rock, but there was definitely a person under there. Flakes of stone covered his drooping body, like some sort of terrible petrification disease. He had a tattered toga wrapped around his body.


    In the smaller seat beside the throne sat a statue of a woman, so perfectly sculpted that Leira would¡¯ve sooner believed it was a human wearing body paint. She recognized her from the statue they¡¯d seen outside the lift¡ªOphelia Jaqlov. Oh shit, that¡¯s Ansoir¡¯s mom! His father sure looked more like the sick one.


    She¡¯d been prepared for some weird shit, as one must always be when dealing with the filthy rich, but this exceeded her expectations.


    Ansoir had gone unheard.


    ¡°Father!¡± he screeched.


    Stondemaier raised a lump of an arm that was indistinguishable from the rest of his body. Bits of stone crumbled away as he moved. The handless limb looked like a burnt log, but the way it sagged reminded Leira of bread dough.


    The music stopped. Leira turned to see that the players in the string quartet were Taluses.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Stondemaier¡¯s voice sounded like grinding gravel. The words came slow. ¡°Is that Brock I sense?¡±


    Leira turned back to the door, saw the Talus heaving the plate aside so that he could fit through the gap. He rolled forward, bowed to the elder Jaqlov.


    ¡°I hope my son is treating you well,¡± Stondemaier said. ¡°If he¡¯s cruel, you tell me. I¡¯ll punish him.¡±


    Brock bowed again and then rolled over to stand near the other statues.


    Laughter erupted from the table of guards. She looked over in time to see the sheriff spit right on the floor. Yeah, Leira thought. That man runs this place. Ansoir is too deluded to grasp the fact.


    Leira gave Ansoir an encouraging squeeze of the arm. She could not believe he was drunk enough to attempt this.


    He stepped forward.


    ¡°Father. I have come to discuss a most impoten¨C important matter.¡± He faltered and glanced at Leira. She smiled at him. ¡°And I have a joyous announcement to make.¡±


    Stondemaier¡¯s laugh was like a pickaxe smashing rock to bits. ¡°Disrespectful, boy. Greet your mother.¡±


    The statue sat beside Stondemaier clasped her hands. The way she moved was so natural. Her too-human lips formed a pleasant but tight smile.


    Ansoir straightened. ¡°Good evening, Ophelia. I hope you¡¯re enjoying the gala. Father, I believe-¡±


    Another burst of laughter. The sheriff and his guards were howling, banging their fists on the table.


    Leira bit at her lip. This was painfully awkward. Not much point in killing this useless sack of rubble. And she didn¡¯t fancy her chances against the sheriff, not in this situation at least. Hallows were always full of tricks, and Nirva resisted her spores.


    It was needless anyway; she had her ticket into the mines through Ansoir. There was nothing here worth toppling.


    Not knowing what else to do, Leira squeezed Ansoir¡¯s arm again. What a court of madness she¡¯d stumbled into.


    ¡°Father,¡± Ansoir began again. ¡°It¡¯s high time I take on the mantle of Burgermeister. It is my birthright. Podexia will thrive under my leadership.¡±


    Leira was not sure if Stondemaier was awake. A lip of gravel had fallen over his eyes, drooping down from his forehead. Her face grew hot¡ªshe¡¯d never been so embarrassed.


    ¡°The floota¨C the future comes. If Chateau Podexia is to remain strong and wealthy, and in the good graces of the Leviathan, we must look to the future. I am the future.¡±


    One guard made an impressively realistic bawking chicken sound. One of the others fell out of her chair.


    Ansoir pressed on, the absolute madman.


    ¡°I will bring back the glory days of Podexia that I remember so fondly from my youth.¡±


    No one said anything. Who does he even think he¡¯s talking to? His mentally addled father? His mute statue of a mother¡ªLeira didn¡¯t even want to guess at what¡¯d happened there. Surely not the cackling peanut gallery led by the openly vindictive Hallowed cowboy?


    Through his drunken haze, Ansoir seemed to recognize that this was going poorly. And yet, he cleared his throat. ¡°That leads me to my announcement. To show my preparedness for Burgermeistership, I intend to marry this fine woman who stands beside me. Lady Leira¡­ Erm.¡± He turned to her and whispered behind his hand, ¡°What¡¯s your surname?¡±


    Cheeks burning, Leira stared straight ahead. Fucking hell. She¡¯d forgotten about that part.


    A cluster of ropes appeared from nowhere and coiled around Ansoir¡¯s afro. He swatted at them while his poofy hair was bound up so that it looked like salami in a meat net.


    Ansoir screamed and fell to his knees, flopping like a fish on a line.


    Swarm of ropes trailing from his hand, Sheriff Jackson climbed the stairs to stand in front of the throne, effortlessly wrangling poor Ansoir as he went.


    Shit. If he gets himself killed, things get a lot worse for me.


    Aghast, Leira looked past the sheriff to see Stondemaier, staring blankly, unmoving. The statue of Ophelia sat hunched over, her face buried in her stone hands.


    Leira froze up like a panicked rodent. What the fuck is going on!


    Ansoir curled into the fetal position and squeezed his eyes shut.


    ¡°Apologize to me, princess,¡± the sheriff growled. The ropes grew straight out of his palm. They loosened and tightened on their own, wrenching Ansoir around.


    ¡°Look me in the eye,¡± Sheriff Jackson said. The ropes unwound themselves from Ansoir¡¯s afro and then snaked around his limbs. With a flick of the sheriff¡¯s wrist, Ansoir was lifted onto his feet, suspended like a puppet.


    Then, two thinner ropes shot out of Jackson¡¯s other hand. One coiled around Ansoir¡¯s face to raise his bowed head. The other untwined into tiny strands that crawled up Ansoir¡¯s face to ensnare his eyelashes. His eyelids were forced open.


    Damn, Leira thought. The sheriff had a good handle on his Invoke.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry!¡± Ansoir squealed. ¡°I¡¯m drunker than a beggar. Please forgive me!¡±


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ mosquito.¡± Jackson grinned, revealing golden teeth. He squirted brown spit through the gap in his front teeth. The wad landed on Ansoir¡¯s afro.


    The lordling whimpered.


    The guards roared with laughter.


    ¡°Goddamn, kid,¡± Jackson said. ¡°You are one baby-backed bitch. I¡¯m not gonna kill ya. I won¡¯t do that to your old man. Stony¡¯s done me so much good, after all. ¡®Sides, it¡¯s funnier this way! You can¡¯t pay for entertainment like this.¡±


    ¡°Father!¡± Ansoir shrieked.


    The amorphous pile of rocks shifted. Cloudy eyes flickered open. ¡°What happens?¡± Stondemaier said.


    Jackson¡¯s ropes vanished. ¡°Go ahead, boy. Tell him,¡± he said with a drawl.


    Ansoir¡¯s legs were shaking. ¡°N-nothing, father. I only wished to thank you for this lovely party.¡±


    Stondemaier laughed, crumbling and broken. ¡°Don¡¯t thank me. Thank your mother.¡±


    ¡°T-thank you, Ophelia. Mother, I mean,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Stondemaier looked at Ophelia, who still hid her face. His gash of a mouth gaped open, revealing bright, reddened tissue within. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, my love?¡±


    Jackson conjured a rope and flicked it like a whip. ¡°Cheer up, Lady Ophelia, or I¡¯ll kill them both.¡±


    Ophelia straightened up, took Stondemaier¡¯s molting hand, and cradled it against her face.


    ¡°Go on, Ansoir,¡± Stondemaier said. ¡°Enjoy the party! Lots of pretty ladies about, I suspect.¡±


    Ansoir looked at the sheriff, eyes like a begging dog.


    Jackson nodded. ¡°Go. Try some bullshit like that again? I¡¯ll dice you like a fuckin¡¯ apple.¡±


    Ansoir turned on his heel and sprinted away, fleeing the throne room.


    After missing a beat due to her overwhelming relief, Leira ran after him.


    Back in the tunnel, Leira saw no sign of that poor, sorry bastard. She didn¡¯t fancy getting lost in this madhouse, so she wasn¡¯t about to look too hard.


    Dammit. I always overreach.


    Behind her ¨C a thunderous clattering. She dove out of the way.


    Brock the Talus emerged from the throne room, tore past her, boulders spinning at full tilt. He raced off down the hall without sparing her a glance.


    Stupid thing. Leira stood and brushed herself off. She¡¯d hoped to learn more about Podexia, and she¡¯d gotten way more than she bargained for. What an absolute horror show. That idiot and his mindless father were trapped under the sheriff¡¯s boot.


    Worst of all, she¡¯d blundered her chance at getting escorted into the prison.


    Leira trudged down the cave-like hall. She hoped the party was still going. She needed to do some drinking of her own and wash that foul taste out of her mouth.


    It wasn¡¯t over. She¡¯d march right into the prison and raise as much hell as she could.


    Something had to be driving the currents that had delivered her to Gwil. Finally, she¡¯d found someone halfway decent. She¡¯d killed him, for fuck¡¯s sake, and even that hadn¡¯t caused a problem.


    And for that someone to be connected to Ashkana. An impossible coincidence. No, it could not end like this.


    If it was required, she would unleash a Full Blooming. What other part could I play?


    Leira laughed at herself. She was being dramatic. Panicking. She blamed it on the booze. It wouldn¡¯t come to that. And if it did, so be it. Gwil would figure out how to bring her back¡ªhe already knew what she required to escape the rebirth flower. And they would keep drifting on.


    As she neared the garage door that led outside, Leira heard that clattering sound again. She whipped around. Brock was rolling toward her.


    ¡°Damn, Brock. Sorry you¡¯re stuck living in this hellhouse. See ya.¡±


    She made for the door, but the Talus scooted past her and blocked the way. He rolled back and forth like a revving vehicle.


    ¡°You want me to follow you?¡± Leira asked.


    Brock¡¯s boulder head shifted in a nod, and he rolled up the tunnel, looking back at Leira as he went.


    She caught up to him, running to match his pace.


    ¡°What are we doing?¡±


    ¡°Ah, dammit, you can¡¯t talk.¡±


    ¡°So, how is it being a rock-person?¡±


    Leira wanted to ask Brock how he¡¯d feel about overthrowing his masters. He would be damned useful. But she couldn¡¯t risk it. Who knew how the mind of a walking rock worked?


    She wasn¡¯t comfortable going this deep into the manor. Leira was about to turn around and high tail it, but Brock stopped next to an unadorned stretch of wall.


    He gestured toward the ceiling and then knocked against the stone.


    ¡°Go away, Brock,¡± called a whimpering voice.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Leira muttered, crouching to look up into a man-sized crack near the ceiling.


    Brock gestured more frantically and then lowered his boulder fist so that she could step on it. ¡°Ugh, alright.¡±


    He lifted her up to the gap.


    Leira stuck her head into the crevice and saw Ansoir laying facedown on the narrow shelf. She sighed. ¡°Get out of there.¡±


    ¡°Brock, you idiot! How could you bring her here? I¡¯m mortified.¡±


    ¡°Quit being a weird asshole for once in your life and get down!¡± Leira yelled. She jumped off of Brock¡¯s hand. She¡¯d give him five seconds¡­


    The heir of Podexia stuck his head out. He looked like a doll that had been left outside through winter. His face was splotched red from crying, smeared with caked foundation. Black streaks of eyeliner trailed down his cheeks. The heavy dose of product in his hair caused it to retain the ridiculous shape that had been formed by Jackson¡¯s ropes.


    He looked like an insane and very down-on-his-luck clown.


    Ansoir shimmied his way out and Brock helped him down.


    ¡°Lady Leira. I ¨C I blame the alcohol,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°It¡¯s no excuse, I know. But I want to¡­¡± He gagged, then clenched his teeth. ¡°Apologize.¡±


    Leira was too bemused to speak.


    Ansoir laughed in a courtly manner, attempting to feign some dignity. ¡°I don¡¯t apologize very often, you know, so¡­¡±


    ¡°You gotta buck up, man,¡± Leira said. ¡°That¡¯s a wild mess you¡¯re in, but you¡¯re only making it worse.¡±


    Ansoir stuck out his jaw, perhaps in an attempt to make himself look less pitiful. ¡°That cowboy bastard ¨C I¡¯ll murder him!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Leira said. She smiled. ¡°You should get some sleep. We have our date tomorrow, yes?¡±


    Ansoir¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Of course! Looking upon my slaves is just what I need. In the morning? Ten o¡¯clock?¡±


    ¡°Ten o¡¯clock,¡± Leira said. ¡°In the main square.¡± She fluttered her fingers over her shoulder as she strode away.


    Poor sap. She felt a little bad, but not too much.

 Chapter Sixteen – Unshackled

    Clink, clink¡­


    The axe rose, the axe fell, driving the hours into dust.


    Gwil¡¯s hands were shaking, his guts churning. Anticipation and cold Kaia, working in tandem to sow agony through his bones.


    A squelching crunch. A scream. A choked gasp.


    Gwil turned.


    Cort put his boot on the chest of the guard that he¡¯d just killed and ripped the pickaxe from the man¡¯s shattered ribcage. Blood gushed from the wound in time with a slowing heart.


    Excited murmuring broke out throughout the tunnel.


    ¡°You next,¡± Cort said to Gwil. ¡°Lay down.¡±


    Gwil did so. Cort knelt beside him and examined the collar. He shook his head and stood. ¡°You might wanna try praying.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t miss,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°You¡¯re too trusting. Arch your head back. Give me a target.¡±


    Gwil bent his neck all the way back, getting his chin out of the way and propping himself up with the back of his head.


    The axe fell. The collar snapped.


    Fire, radiant and ravenous, an inferno swelling within his veins.


    The Nirva returned, furious, as if its confinement was a transgression that could not go unpunished.


    The gloomy cavern fell away, layer upon layer unraveling, peeling away as if carved by a knife. A field of reeds, a sky of butterflies. The World¡¯s deepest abstractions, revealed as dust.


    It made him feel so small.


    Through that instant, Gwil had no control over his body. His limbs flailed, slamming against the ground, flinging him up and down.


    His primal, mindless scream was silenced by a rough, grimy hand clamped over his mouth. Then, the fingers pinched his nostrils shut.


    With his other arm, Cort pinned Gwil against his chest in a one-armed bear hug.


    He couldn¡¯t breathe. He swatted at Cort¡¯s face.


    ¡°Pipe the fuck down,¡± Cort said with a grunt.


    ¡°Mm hiin nno!¡± Gwil¡¯s smothered bellowing had the high pitch of a whistling teakettle.


    Cort relaxed his grip.


    ¡°I said I¡¯m fine now,¡± Gwil said, gasping. ¡°Lemme go. It¡¯s passed.¡±


    Gwil stood. The crippling frailty that had weighed upon while he wore the collar had vanished. The burning blood soothed his aches like a hot bath. The voices were singing.


    His muscles thumped with visceral pulsations. Sturdiness surged through his bones. His limbs felt as strong as iron, yet featherlight.


    Every sensation was amplified. The dim light bloomed with clarity, glimmering in a prismatic array. The frigid air was as refreshing as the sea on a summer day. The smell, well, the smell of the Kaia was still rancid.


    ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Cort snapped.


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°I dunno. The collar. It¡¯s nothing.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not nothing,¡± Cort said.


    Gwil looked to where Cort pointed. Divots had been smashed into the rocky floor of the cave¡ªfist-sized, with spider-web cracks.


    ¡°Woah! Did I-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m pointing at,¡± Cort said. ¡°Look at your hand.¡±


    Gwil held up his arm, which he hadn¡¯t noticed had slipped out of its cuff.


    His hand was a mangled mass of red and pink pulp. Slivers of white bone peeked out through raw, glistening tissue. He could barely make out his fingers.


    ¡°Wh-wh-wh-¡±


    ¡°Shh! Do not scream!¡± Cort hissed.


    ¡°Fuuuuuck!¡± Gwil whisper-shouted.


    The bloody hunk of meat writhed, little worms of flesh twisting, curling into each other, growing into skin and bone.


    ¡°Wahhhahah!¡± Gwil screamed.


    Torn veins stitched back together. Blood vessels bloomed like tiny roses. Bones fused, cracking into place. Layers of granulation tissue formed, and then a blanket of thin, fresh skin.


    Then he stopped. ¡°Oh yeah, I forgot I could do that.¡±Stolen novel; please report.


    Cort looked furious, but he had been yelling too.


    Chaos.


    Two guards came running in. Pickaxes clattered to the ground. The prisoners fell into panic, their rapid breaths buzzing like mosquitoes in their poisoned lungs.


    Gwil rushed the pair of guards, the iron ball bouncing in his wake. It felt like he was running as fast as a horse.


    A thrown pickaxe whizzed past him, spinning end over end. Its spike impaled one guard in the stomach.


    With his uninjured hand, Gwil socked the other one across the jaw, shattering his gasmask. Out cold, the man crumpled beside his writhing comrade.


    Gwil looked down the tunnel to see if anyone else was coming. They hadn¡¯t been that loud, had they?


    He turned back and saw that Cort had gathered up all the prisoners.


    ¡°Everyone,¡± Cort said, keeping his voice low. ¡°We¡¯re getting out of here. If you¡¯re fit, pair up with someone who¡¯s sick. First thing we¡¯re gonna do is get these chains off. Line up. Quick.¡±


    Gwil looked down at the guard, who was slowly dying with a pickaxe lodged in his abdomen. ¡°Hey Cort, I forget. Is it better to take it out, or leave it in?¡±


    Cort threw his hands up. ¡°Who gives a shit? Go find the other guard and send everyone else down here.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Gwil bolted into the hub at the base of the pit.


    Each of the pit¡¯s tunnels would¡¯ve had one guard, so there was only one left down here. But the prisoners were already rushing out of their tunnels. Gwil¡¯s eyes darted between them, searching for the guard. Then he heard a noise above.


    The last guard was climbing up the scaffolding.


    Nirva blazing in his leg, Gwil planted his foot and swung himself into a spinning kick, using the iron ball to blast through two of the scaffolding¡¯s supports.


    That half of the structure heaved and then collapsed. The guard lost his footing and came tumbling down.


    Gwil clambered up to meet him where he fell. He ripped off the guard¡¯s mask and then, using the heel of his palm, popped him in the forehead. The man¡¯s eyes rolled back, and he went still.


    As he climbed down, Gwil dragged the unconscious body and dumped it on the ground, somewhere out of the way. No need to kill everyone.


    More prisoners streamed into the main area of the pit. What a sight¡ªa screaming horde of half-dead ghouls, waxen skin aglow with Kaia, pickaxes swinging wildly.


    Cort came running up to where Gwil stood at the foot of the scaffolding.


    ¡°Weren¡¯t we supposed to keep quiet?¡± Gwil asked. ¡°They¡¯re yelling.¡±


    ¡°Are you shitting me? You broke the scaffolding. Loudest thing I ever heard. You know we have to climb out, right?¡±


    Gwil turned to gesture at the scaffolding and saw half a dozen guards peering down from the rim of the pit.


    Without a word, he leapt up onto the scaffolding and started climbing. The guards scattered.


    ¡°You better have one hell of an Invoke,¡± Cort shouted.


    He reached the top. Madness, all the guards running around like headless chickens. Most were gunning for the cavern¡¯s exit. Others seemed directionless, and a few fools retreated down into the pits.


    Gwil dashed toward the exit. He couldn¡¯t stop them¡ªseveral of the guards had already escaped. The whole prison would know what was happening.


    But he could at least hold the line against whatever came.


    Without thinking, Gwil leapt across one of the pits, only realizing in midair how far it was. He landed with one foot scrabbling on the edge, the other dangling.


    He caught himself by grabbing the ankles of the two shocked guards that stood there. In pulling himself up, he dumped them both into the pit.


    Ahead, a group of some fifteen guards had gotten themselves into formation. They closed in on him, charging with their spears. Gwil spun past the leader of the charge, grabbed the shaft of his weapon and wrenched it away. The man tripped and plummeted into one of the pits.


    Gwil held the co-opted spear sideways and clotheslined the next two. The rest of the gang piled onto him. He deflected a few jabs and then dropped the spear.


    He was better off without it. Nirva rushed through his body like never before, driving his every move.


    Gwil threw punches at whatever he could reach. His fists felt as sturdy as the iron ball that was shackled to his leg. He landed a solid blow on someone¡¯s chest and felt the ribcage collapse as the man went flying back.


    He grabbed two more by the backs of their heads and slammed their faces together.


    Gwil couldn¡¯t believe how good he was at fighting. It was so easy. His opponents moved as slowly as if they were underwater.


    The Nirva, the Nirva was monstrous. Against it, these ordinary humans were as weak as soggy noodles, and as fragile as paper mach¨¦.


    A spear from behind slashed through Gwil¡¯s leg. He felt the metal scrape against his hipbone. He threw himself backward into the man, grabbed him by the arm, and began spinning.


    Using their comrade as a bludgeon, he bowled through the rest of the attackers.


    The other guards that had been approaching him turned and fled, making for the exit. Gwil laughed as he chased after them.


    ***


    ¡°C¡¯mon, c¡¯mon, c¡¯mon!¡± Cort barked.


    He anchored an assembly line of prisoners as they lifted their sickly fellows up the collapsed scaffolding. Another group worked on breaking as many of the chains as they could.


    Cort was furious at both himself and Isca for allowing that brainless dipshit to be a part of their escape. He¡¯d ruined everything at the first step.


    Their chance was shot. Up in flames before it even got off the ground. The whole of Podexia was about to come crashing down on them.


    It was too late to turn back. All they could do was throw themselves into the gnashing jaws. Death would be better than whatever punishment they¡¯d reap for this pitiful attempt.


    The realization washed over him. They were all going to die. All these poor prisoners who Cort had let himself get tangled up with. Goddammit. He¡¯d failed them. And on top of that, he¡¯d given up his own life for nothing.


    Well, he could make peace with that. Not like he was gonna do anything worthwhile, anyway. At least he¡¯d die trying to do something decent. Except¡­


    Isca¡­


    ¡°Cort!¡± someone shouted from the top of the pit. ¡°We¡¯re still clear up here. Don¡¯t rush it!¡±


    ¡°Eh? How?¡± Cort yelled back.


    ¡°That Hallowed kid is running riot. The guards are trying to escape and he¡¯s not letting them!¡±


    Cort whipped around and¨C ¡°Shit! Watch out!¡± He¡¯d kicked a pile of detached iron balls and sent them rolling.


    Clutching his toe, he called out to a woman that was helping him get everyone out. ¡°Limmy, you good with the rest? I gotta see what¡¯s going on up top.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good. Go!¡±


    Cort grabbed two discarded pickaxes and clambered up the heap of scaffolding. At the top, he pushed his way through the gathered prisoners. A few eager ones had rushed ahead to join the fray.


    Cort surveyed the scene. ¡°I¡¯ll be damned.¡±


    A couple dozen guards lay scattered throughout the field of pits. Dead, dying, and unconscious, they formed a path of carnage leading toward the exit.


    At the mouth of the cavern, Gwil was tangled up in a mass of flailing bodies. He fended off attackers from both sides¡ªreinforcements had come.


    Podexian guards swarmed him, burying him beneath their bodies. But Gwil broke free every time, like a man at sea who refused to drown, surfacing between waves.


    The kid was a terror. He fought like a demon, ripping through armed and armored enemies like they were made of tissue. And he was laughing. The echoes of his lunatic cackling filled the cavern.


    Cort turned on the group behind him. ¡°What are y¡¯all standing around for? Go help everyone get out of the other pits. They got no damn clue what¡¯s goin¡¯ on.


    ¡°And watch out for any guards that went down to hide!¡± he added as they hurried off.


    With a pickaxe in each hand, Cort sprinted ahead to help Gwil. It sure as hell wasn¡¯t ideal, but maybe they still had a chance. And if not, this wasn¡¯t such a bad way to go out.

 Chapter Seventeen – The Door Is Open

    The sun was bright; the air was crisp. Leira deemed it a fine morning. She¡¯d just finished breakfast, where she¡¯d stuffed herself full of pastries, knowing that it would be some time before she could enjoy such a good meal again.


    She waited in the bustling square, listening to the nasal chatter of the Podexians. She wore the ragged clothes that Gwil had given her. She¡¯d tell Ansoir she didn¡¯t want to soil any of her finery by wearing it into the mines.


    Before heading out, Leira had stashed their two backpacks beside the garbage bins behind the inn. She doubted they¡¯d get the chance to retrieve them, so she¡¯d taken out the few useful things that could fit in her purse. Her dress took up most of the space, but she wasn¡¯t going to leave it behind. It was their most valuable possession, anyway.


    She ran through imagined scenarios in her head. They¡¯d do it real quiet like. Scope the place out, knock out a couple of guards, grab Gwil, and sneak right out. With some luck, some finesse, and some spores, she even thought it might be possible to do it right under Ansoir¡¯s nose. He was an oblivious nitwit, after all.


    Leira placed a hand over her fluttering heart as a smile twisted across her lips. Damn her thirst for excitement¡ªit caused nothing but trouble.


    She looked up as a disturbance swept through the crowd. Brock was rolling through the square.


    The Talus halted in front of her. Ansoir theatrically threw open the curtains and leaned out of the litter to lord over the crowd.


    ¡°Rejoice! I, Ansoir Jaqlov, future Burgermeister, grace you with my presence on this fine morning!¡±


    They hollered and applauded. As Leira took Ansoir¡¯s outstretched hand and climbed up to join him in the litter, she wished these people could have seen the sorry state of their lord last night.


    Ansoir held out his hand for Leira to kiss and then pulled it away. ¡°What is with that filthy clothing?¡±


    Leira flopped down into her chair as Ansoir cringed. His hands were outstretched as if he¡¯d intended to catch her before she dirtied the chair¡¯s upholstery.


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna wear nice clothes in a Kaia mine,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°You look like a fucking dirty peasant,¡± Ansoir hissed as he closed the curtains. ¡°Why not just buy new clothes, you silly woman?¡±


    Leira pouted her lips. ¡°Oh no. I guess I¡¯ll just have to change clothes after, won¡¯t I?¡±


    That shut him up. As if. Fucking idiot.


    ¡°Make haste, Brock! To the mines!¡± He stuck his head out of the curtains. ¡°Out of the way, menials!¡±


    Leira had hoped Ansoir would be hungover and embarrassed, and thus less boisterous. Instead, it seemed he was trying to compensate for last night¡¯s debacle. She decided to sour him.


    ¡°What¡¯s up with your mom? Was she always a statue? How¡¯s that work?¡±


    Ansoir stomped his feet on Brock¡¯s head. ¡°That is not my mother!¡± he shrieked. ¡°My mother is dead. She died when I was a boy. That¡­ thing is an abomination. My father is deranged.¡±


    ¡°How unique,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°It¡¯s not unique. It¡¯s disgusting. A disgrace to her memory.¡± He clenched his teeth. ¡°Her ashes are mixed with the stone.¡± Ansoir clutched at his face, tugging at his fat cheeks. ¡°Her death destroyed my father¡¯s mind. You saw how he¡¯s ruined his body with sick experiments. He is a slave to grief and delusion.¡±


    Leira didn¡¯t care about that family¡¯s insanity. They¡¯d earned their misery. She pulled open the curtain to look outside and saw the wall looming ahead. Her hands started sweating.


    Ansoir still blustered in his seat like a raging baby. ¡°That piece of shit sheriff,¡± he spat. ¡°I¡¯ll kill him! I swear, I¡¯ll kill him!¡±


    At his screaming, Brock¡¯s steadiness wavered, and a flock of birds fled from the nearby tree they¡¯d been perching in.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think about that stuff, my lord,¡± Leira said, making her voice sweeter than honey. ¡°Let¡¯s just enjoy our date. Let us revel in the suffering of the slaves.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Lady Leira, of course. You know just how to cheer me up. Let us glory in my wealth and my Kaia.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s do that,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Why are you going so slowly, Brock?¡± Ansoir barked. ¡°Don¡¯t be such a coward.¡±


    Leira raised her eyebrows at that.


    ¡°None of the Taluses ever go into the mines,¡± Ansoir explained. ¡°My father says they fear the Kaia, and he thinks such slavish work is beneath his creations.¡±


    Hearing that made Leira want to rip her ears off.


    ¡°I¡¯ve not been inside myself in, oh, a decade,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°It¡¯s a vile place, and it smells like manure and rotting peons. Their ceaseless screaming is very irritating as well. I should¡¯ve brought earmuffs.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Leira smiled. ¡°Oh good. It sounds like my traitorous slave must be very miserable!¡± She clasped her hands. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see!¡±


    After a short time, they reached the end of the dusty road that led up to the wall. Brock halted in front of the gate. Leira and Ansoir both leaned out.


    A guard stood on the catwalk that was mounted on the wall above the gate. The man started flailing upon seeing Ansoir.


    ¡°My lord! Forgive me! I wasn¡¯t informed you¡¯d be visiting.¡±


    Ansoir leaned out further. Leira prepared to deal with the both of them if it came to that.


    ¡°Am I meant to seek permission to enter my own mines? I should have you executed for that. Open the damn gate, you insolent slime!¡±


    ¡°I would, my lord,¡± the guard said. ¡°But I¡¯ve just received a report about some sort of disturbance within the prison. A minor thing, I¡¯m sure, but I think I¡¯d better check what-¡±


    The lotus petals whirring, Leira fixed her gaze on the guard and released a narrow stream of red spores. She shrieked, ¡°Open the fucking gate, you inhuman piece of garbage!¡±


    Ansoir looked very proud.


    Wobbling, the guard moved to a control panel and pulled the lever. The gate opened. The guard made to turn around, spun like a ballerina, and then flipped over the railing.


    Leira grimaced as the man landed hard on his back. She hadn¡¯t meant for him to do that. At least the fall wasn¡¯t that high. He¡¯d probably be fine.


    ¡°Bahaha!¡± Ansoir pointed gleefully at the sputtering man. ¡°He must have passed out with fear at my presence.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what he gets for giving you trouble, my lord,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Indeed! How laughable. What sort of disturbance could there ever be in this shithole?¡±


    ¡°Yes, what could a bunch of worthless slaves do to the future Burgermeister of Podexia?¡±


    ¡°They can kiss the ground where I walk and that¡¯s it,¡± Ansoir said. He clucked his tongue as if urging a horse. ¡°Move along, Brock. Let us see the place where your soul was unearthed. You and your kin owe everything to these mines.¡±


    Leira grimaced. So, what¡¯s going on in there, Gwil? She should¡¯ve expected he wouldn¡¯t just sit around waiting for her. At least, her timing was good.


    They crossed through the wall.


    ***


    One of the Podexians tried to run from him. Cort grabbed the man by the collar and wrenched him onto the ground. He raised his axe to finish him.


    And someone grabbed his wrist. Cort ripped free, spun while making to strike back. It was Gwil.


    ¡°Hey, man. You don¡¯t gotta kill him,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Are you crazy?¡± Cort barked. ¡°You killed a bunch of them. All gung-ho about breaking out and you¡¯re shy about killing. And you call me a coward?¡±


    ¡°Did I? Well, look at him,¡± Gwil said, gesturing at the whimpering man. ¡°He¡¯s cooked. Just leave him.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re all rats,¡± Cort spat. ¡°Every last one of ¡®em. He¡¯ll stab us in the back at the first chance.¡±


    Gwil nudged the guard with his foot. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°D-Dwillard,¡± the man said.


    ¡°Do you want us to spare your life, Dwillard?¡±


    The man took his mask off and threw it away. He had a chubby, jolly face. Gwil thought he looked like a goofball.


    ¡°Gods, please!¡± Dwillard cried. ¡°I was sold to Jaqlov. I¡¯m the same as you!¡±


    ¡°See?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Fuck that,¡± Cort growled. ¡°I recognize you, Dwillard. I remember watching your ratfuck face laughing while you watched an old woman get whipped to death. All these guards have been drinking our blood, Gwil.¡±


    ¡°Vampires?¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me before?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Cort roared. ¡°No! Goddammit. Listening to you is so painful. I meant they¡¯re violent scum that deserve nothing but death, and definitely not mercy.¡±


    ¡°Oh c¡¯mon,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Dwillard¡¯s fine.¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡± Cort put his boot on Dwillard¡¯s chest. ¡°You won the lottery. Consider yourself spared. Do nothing except sit still and pray for your life. If you cause us a single shred of trouble, I will rip out each of your fingernails, and each of your toenails, and stab them into your eyeballs. I¡¯ll pack ¡®em in like the candles in a one-hundred-year-old¡¯s birthday cake.¡±


    Dwillard passed out.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Gwil said, scanning the cavern. ¡°Looks like everyone¡¯s down.¡±


    Cort caught his breath, taking in the sudden calmness. Spur of the moment, he had decided their best option was to lock themselves inside the cavern. They needed time.


    He and Gwil had fought their way to the controls for the gigantic blast door that sealed off the cavern in case of an emergency.


    The door was slow in closing, so most of the Podexians had managed to escape before it shut.


    They¡¯d just finished cleaning up the unlucky bastards who got stuck on the wrong side.


    ¡°They¡¯re gonna bring the big machines to bust down the door,¡± Cort said to Gwil and the other prisoners. ¡°And we can¡¯t open it ourselves cause we destroyed the controls. So, all we can do is wait for them to break through and then give ¡®em hell.¡±


    ¡°Oo, do you think they¡¯re gonna use that giant car with the drill on the front?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°Probably,¡± Cort said, rubbing his chin. ¡°They can¡¯t use explosives¡ªthey won¡¯t risk the Kaia.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Whatever they try, the timing¡¯s gonna be razor thin.¡±


    ¡°I have an idea,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go out and stop them.¡±


    Cort didn¡¯t bother responding to that. Instead, he went off to find Isca, who was helping get the sickest prisoners in order. They¡¯d managed to get everyone out of the pits. That shivering, murmuring mass of people looked more shocked than excited.


    He looked at the bodies strewn throughout the cavern. All Podexians, and most had not fared as well as Dwillard. Not a single prisoner had been killed yet. Cort clenched his teeth. Lucky so far.


    ***


    Gwil flexed the new fingers on his hand. The skin was shiny and pink, still writhing. He grinned. I can run wild with this.


    So far, the World was a disgusting disappointment. So much greed and cruelty. Everyone in Podexia seemed afflicted with madness.


    And the World was bigger than he¡¯d ever imagined. It looked like there¡¯d be a lot of bad shit to sift through.


    But first things first. They needed to fight their way out of here. And that cowboy sheriff had made a fool out of him. Gwil really wanted another chance at that bastard.


    Nirva. Even as he fought off all those guards, Gwil could tell he only scratched at the surface of something bottomless. There was so much more.


    Those ropes¡­ And Skuld, that old man did impossible things as easily as he breathed. All the stories people tell. Gwil was one of them. He could do that stuff too. He¡¯d make it happen, no matter what.


    And Leira said there were thousands of Hallows running around?


    That meant he had to become as strong as any of them¡ªstronger¡ªif they were going to cross the whole World and find Ashkana.


    But¡­ why, Caris? Why didn¡¯t you want this for me?


    Gwil cracked his knuckles. His stomach felt full of frenzied butterflies.


    After they got out of the prison, he was gonna beat the shit out of the sheriff. If he couldn¡¯t even do that, then they weren¡¯t gonna make it anywhere, anyway.


    Gwil had lied to Cort about that Invoke business. He didn¡¯t have any magic. But earlier, when the collar came off, there was something. He¡¯d only caught a glimpse of a tiny, fleeting thing. Quiet beneath the voices, obscured by the prismatic veil, buried in the ashes.


    He just needed to reach out and grab it.

 Chapter Eighteen – Helping Hands

    Isca threw one arm around Gwil¡¯s neck and the other around Cort¡¯s waist and pulled them in for a hug.


    ¡°You guys are monsters!¡± she yelled. ¡°Look how many of them you killed.¡±


    She released them and buried her face in her hands. A layer of grime painted over her tattoos. ¡°It¡¯s really happening.¡±


    ¡°Isca,¡± Cort said. ¡°Get it together. We¡¯re not even close to done.¡±


    She set her jaw. ¡°I know. But this is enough. Even if we fail, it¡¯ll be done. If there¡¯s no other way, this place will die with all of us.¡±


    ¡°Stop talking like that,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Everyone is gonna go free.¡±


    Cort muttered something.


    ¡°I mean it,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I¡¯ll die before I let a single person die.¡±


    Cort threw his hands up. ¡°That doesn¡¯t even¨C gah!¡±


    Isca glared at Gwil. ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not lying. I swear. Not one death.¡±


    Isca shook her head and then looked down at her arm, tracing her finger along her wrist.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± Gwil said.


    All around them, chains were breaking. Pickaxe-wielding prisoners were going around, cutting the shackles from their fellows.


    Like wolves on the scent, one hundred haggard, twisted humans looked up at the stone sky, wondering if it could break.


    The iron balls, carried in the hands of their former bearers, were being placed in a pile. It grew and grew.


    And then it began to rain dust and shards of rock. The ground and the walls were shaking.


    Panic ripped through the prisoners, choking away the invigoration that had only just swelled.


    An awful, grinding squeal emanated from the enormous metal door.


    Gwil raised his fists in the air. ¡°It¡¯s the drill!¡±


    Cort smacked him on the back of the head, then muttered, ¡°That door is thicker than hell. We have time.¡± He raised his voice. ¡°Listen up! This ain¡¯t gonna be no picnic. If you can¡¯t fight, go hide in that pit.¡± He pointed toward the end of the cavern opposite the door.


    Isca threw herself into the throng. She was shouting, but her voice was lost in the uproar.


    Gwil gaped. No one moved.


    Isca was trying to help the ones who could barely stand, but they were fighting her off. Skeletal, ancient, infected¡ªthey refused to move away.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Cort yelled. ¡°Don¡¯t be getting yourself killed if you can¡¯t-¡±


    Gwil elbowed him in the ribs. ¡°Don¡¯t you see?¡±


    ¡°It only makes things harder for everyone if we gotta protect people who can¡¯t even walk,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°You can¡¯t take that away,¡± Gwil said.


    One hundred men and women remained where they were, all on their feet. Unshackled.


    ¡°Fucking hell,¡± Cort grumbled. ¡°Wanting something doesn¡¯t make it real.¡± He raised his voice. ¡°Fine! If you¡¯re gonna give yourselves to this madness, I better not see anyone get left behind!¡±


    The tense whining of the drill crescendoed. The tip ripped through the door.


    Gwil sprinted for the door.


    A raging stampede fell in behind him.


    ¡°No! Dammit, wait!¡± Cort yelled.


    ***


    Something was obviously amiss within the prison. Brock carried them through a long, cavernous tunnel. The Talus had begun shivering when they entered, making for a bumpy ride.


    The tunnel was empty, and eerie for it. Occasional sharp echoes were the only sign of activity.


    ¡°The officers in charge of this prison have committed a most severe transgression,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°They must be punished.¡±


    Leira was trying to map out the myriad paths that branched off this passageway when she realized Ansoir was waiting for her to respond.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± she muttered.


    ¡°There should be a welcoming party for myself and my betrothed!¡±


    Leira sighed. She took one of Ansoir¡¯s hands in both of hers, looked him in the eyes, leaned in close and said, ¡°I can¡¯t stand it anymore! Shut the fuck up, you insufferable, brainless twat!¡±


    A pink cloud enveloped Ansoir¡¯s face before he had the chance to process what she¡¯d said. That was regrettable¡ªhe desperately needed to learn that he was a brainless twat.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Unconscious, he slumped across her lap. She shoved him away.


    Brock had come to a halt. Leira clambered down and scurried away from the hulking Talus, preparing to bolt.


    When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw Brock¡¯s faceless head bowed to the ground, his boulder-shoulders hunched. He looked pathetic, like a stray dog in the rain.


    Leira bit her lip, irritated at herself for stopping. ¡°What¡¯ll it be, Brock?¡± she spat.


    Putrid brown spores oozed from the lotus. Her normal eye watered at the acidic fumes. It stank so bad that it trumped the smell of the Kaia. ¡°I don¡¯t want to, but I¡¯ll melt you down if I have to.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t do that, of course¡ªthe acid wasn¡¯t nearly strong enough. But she must¡¯ve looked awfully scary, and Brock was probably dumb enough to take her at her word, because he was just a rock.


    The Talus heaved his shoulders in an utterly defeated shrug. In the litter, Ansoir slumped in his chair, a string of drool pooling onto the other seat.


    Something was happening further up the tunnel. Clangs and shouting voices, growing louder and more frequent.


    ¡°Your fucking master enslaved my friend,¡± Leira said. Brown beads of burning sap dripped down her cheek, scalding her skin. ¡°Are you gonna try to stop me?¡±


    The Talus shook his head.


    ¡°Run away, then,¡± Leira said. ¡°Do whatever you want with Ansoir. I dunno if you give a shit about him or not.¡±


    Again, Brock shook his head. And then he prostrated himself.


    Leira quelled the spores. She hawked up a mouthful of rancid phlegm and spat it on the ground, where it sizzled. She wiped the sap from her cheeks.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna help me?¡±


    Brock nodded.


    ¡°Fuck yeah. I didn¡¯t think a rock could be so free-thinking. Get up, let¡¯s go.¡±


    Leira climbed back into the litter, heaved Ansoir over the back of the chair, dumping him down onto the floor. She wedged him behind the chairs so he wouldn¡¯t fall out.


    ¡°Too bad you don¡¯t know where we¡¯re going,¡± Leira said. ¡°Just keep going forward. And fast.¡±


    Brock¡¯s boulder legs spun up, and they plunged deeper into the mines. Ahead, it sounded like a full-blown riot.


    Leira laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t think you know what you¡¯re getting into. I was planning to just break my friend out and escape, but it sounds like he might¡¯ve pushed things pretty far.¡±


    In truth, she felt terrified, but it mixed well with her adrenaline.


    Five days. It had been five days since she met Gwil. And they were striking against the Leviathan. Indirectly, but still. That was worthy of Ashkana.


    Many footsteps, lots of shouting. Dozens of Podexian guards appeared out of the gloom up ahead.


    ¡°Oh shit! Run them over, Brock! Fuck them up!¡±


    The Talus did no such thing. Instead, he went well out of his way to avoid crushing anyone, grinding the side of his body against the cave wall to clear space. Ansoir had said that his father believed the stone was peaceful.


    Leira looked at the panicked soldiers as they rushed past each other. Oh, Gwil. What did you do?


    ***


    The brunt of the drill had pierced the two-story-tall blast door. The metal was knotted up like a fistful of fabric. It groaned, crumpled, and then tore apart.


    A huge shard exploded out, ripping through the air, spinning like a dervish.


    On instinct, Gwil leapt straight upward, threw his hands out over his head and shoved the thing away. It crashed into one of the pits, harmless.


    Gwil looked over his shoulder and saw ten ghost-pale prisoners who would¡¯ve been eviscerated by the shard.


    Grinning, he waved at the prisoners and noticed that two of his fingers got chopped off.


    Close one. That could¡¯ve been his promise to Isca broken, before they¡¯d even started. He wasn¡¯t sparring with Caris or messing with some dumb beasts. Anything could happen at any time. No messing around.


    The drill lurched forward, chewing metal into jagged curls. It had penetrated the door¡ªwhich was a meter thick¡ªnearly to its base. A shredded gap had formed¡ªan opening.


    Gwil ran to meet the monstrous machine.


    Everything within the cavern slowed and became distorted, swirling like a portrait. How strange, he thought as he hurled himself over a pit.


    The drill¡¯s whine was earsplitting. Vicious. Cone-shaped, longer than Gwil was tall, blurred by its speed, the whirling spike spitting bits of metal. Nirva was great and all, but that thing looked deadly serious. The vehicle itself was over a half-story tall.


    Landing in front of it, Gwil realized he had no goddamn clue what to do. He only knew that he¡¯d better hurry.


    He threw himself at the door and climbed up, using its bracketing for footing. Maybe, maybe he could squeeze through that perilous sliver of space and stop them from the other side.


    He shimmied closer to the gash, squinting against the metals shavings that were whipping through the air. The force of the drill vibrated in his bones.


    A strip of metal tore away like cheese off a grater. It slashed him across the ribs.


    Gwil¡¯s eyes widened as a wave of blood poured down his front. Numb and breathless, he patted his hand against the mangled mess, unable to tell his flesh from his clothing.


    It felt a bit like that first heartbeat after a paper cut, except that this was a gaping cavity of a wound.


    His limbs went cold as his Nirva surged. He could feel it flowing away from his arms and legs, coalescing in his torso.


    Shredded flesh turned into wriggling worms. The tissue looked like stretched out chewing gum as it reformed.


    A terrible groan came from the door¡ªit was at its limit.


    Gwil peeled his eyes away from the bizarre happenings of his body and climbed up the door until he was level with the gash.


    The group of prisoners that had followed him to the door were screaming their heads off. ¡°Stop! No! Lunatic!¡± were some of the words he caught.


    Gwil ignored them and craned his neck to see out. Flying bits of debris were slicing up his face.


    There were some fifty Podexians on the other side, gathered behind the drill. They certainly hadn¡¯t expected to see a head peeking through the door.


    The problem was, one of the guards was a splicer with a frog¡¯s tongue. And Gwil happened to be looking at that particular man when his tongue rolled out of his gaping mouth and stretched down to the floor.


    Gwil lost his grip, flailed, had his hand obliterated by the drill, and then fell from near the top of the door.


    He smacked down hard¡ªflat on his back¡ªand tried to scramble away, but his body wasn¡¯t working. He could feel his Nirva sputtering around as if indecisive. Blood gushed from the end of his wrist. Ugh. That hand hadn¡¯t even finished growing back yet.


    The door caved inward, bulging on the brink of destruction. The drill was about to break all the way through. A big flap of scrap had gotten stuck on the drill turning it into a nightmarish propeller.


    It happened slowly. Gwil saw the weaknesses in the door, like splotches of ethereal paint, little wounds in its fabric.


    In a few seconds, Gwil would be turned into paste. He wasn¡¯t gonna be healing through that. But he just couldn¡¯t move. Dammit. Killed because of a tongue.


    Hunched figures appeared around him. Hands grabbed him, started dragging him across the rugged ground. His vision was fading in and out. His head lolled, spurring nausea.


    A group of prisoners crowded around him. Gwil heard fabric tearing, and then a woman grabbed his injured arm and held it up. They were trying to put on a makeshift bandage.


    ¡°My name¡¯s Limmy,¡± she said shakily. ¡°You¡¯re gonna be fine.¡± It did not at all sound like she believed herself.


    Gwil pulled away from them and sat up with some help. He held up his arm. A thin layer of flesh was forming around the jutting-out, splintered end of bone. With the way it writhed, it looked like a rotten, maggot-infested tree stump.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry! I¡¯m fine!¡± Gwil grinned. ¡°Thanks!¡±


    The door was gone. The Podexians were coming through.

 Chapter Nineteen – All the Small Things

    Cort ran around like a madman, trying to get the riffraff into squads and putting them in defensive positions behind clusters of stalagmites.


    He hoped the pits would help them hold some ground. The Podexians wouldn¡¯t have an easy advance, at least.


    Cort tripped over a rolling iron ball but stayed on his feet. ¡°Argh! Again?¡± Damned things.


    That gave him an idea.


    ¡°Isca! Isca!¡± he screamed over the furor.


    She looked around and then caught his eye.


    Cort pointed at the pile of iron balls and began gesturing wildly. ¡°Roll them to the door! To the door!¡±


    The cavern had a slope to it that bottomed out in front of the door. That could buy them some time - Cort would carve out every sliver. He turned away as Isca started directing the prisoners.


    Just in time to see the door crumple into a ball. Prisoners scattered, pissing on whatever orders Cort had given them. He spotted Gwil¡ªdrenched in blood but running his fucking mouth as always¡ªstumbling away with a few other prisoners.


    The tank crawled through, lumbering on its big treads. It was monstrous. The Podexian force stayed behind it, matching its sluggish pace.


    Fuck. That thing was unstoppable. It would shred them all into tiny pieces. Cort didn¡¯t care to go to hell as a pile of woodchips. The tank was slow and cumbersome.


    ¡°Advance!¡± he screamed. ¡°Get behind the tank!¡±


    Cort scooped up a couple of pickaxes as he charged forward.


    ***


    Chaos enveloped the prison. Guards ran every which way. An annoying alarm blared without surcease. The commotion had sent Brock into a panic, and now they were lost.


    Leira shook her head. Literally made of solid stone, and he¡¯s as timid as a mouse.


    Ahead, a ball of purple fire bloomed within the tunnel.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Leira said. ¡°A laser gun?¡± That set her heart racing, but the weapon¡¯s discharge looked too volatile to be of Leviathan make.


    Brock went into a frenzy as sections of the tunnel collapsed. Blinded by fear, the idiot rolled toward the source rather than away.


    ¡°What is wrong with you?¡± Leira hissed. ¡°You¡¯re gonna get us vaporized. At least lift your arms up so I don¡¯t get crushed!¡± she squealed as a chunk of debris just missed crushing the litter.


    Brock took a sharp turn that nearly saw Leira thrown out. Recovering herself, she saw a blue glow through the haze. By the time she recognized the shape as a person, Brock had snatched them up, pinning the flailing figure between his two boulder hands.


    Leira saw a chrome laser gun fall to the ground.


    It was a strange little man, with long arms like a monkey, wild patchy white hair, and telescopic goggles. His skin glowed bright blue¡ªLeira had never seen someone so afflicted by Kaia.


    ¡°What the fuck, Brock? We¡¯re supposed to be looking for Gwil. Who is this guy? Hey! You¡¯re gonna smush him doing that.¡±


    Brock dropped the scientist-type fellow on the ground and then the Talus leaned forward to cover over the man and trap him in a very stalwart sort of cage. Leira thought she¡¯d piss herself if she were trapped in that position.


    She jumped down to take the measure of the scientist. ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± she asked, picking up the laser gun and inspecting it. What a piece of junk.


    ¡°I am Doctor Buzzard. Chief Scientist, Chief Researcher, and Chief Engineer of Chateau Podexia. I find your floral splice repugnant and in very poor taste, you heathen witch. The vaingloriousness of you people knows no bounds.¡±


    ¡°Eat shit,¡± Leira said. ¡°I couldn¡¯t get this Talus to hurt a fly, but it looks like he wants to crush you. What gives?¡±


    ¡°Well, I see you grew sick of dealing with Lord Ansoir and turned to a life of crime, Brock. Hmmm, I wonder,¡± Buzzard murmured. He held both his hands over his mouth, like a rat. ¡°Could it be? Yes, I suspect.¡±


    ¡°Answer the question,¡± Leira snapped. The petals swayed.


    Brock slammed his heavy fist against the ground. Splintering cracks shot out from the point of impact, crawling beneath the doctor, which gave him a start.


    ¡°Brock is mad because I designed the engines that power the Taluses,¡± Buzzard said quickly. ¡°But it was not I who saddled him with a mind. I only gifted the Taluses the ability to be something more than sentient vegetables. Nothing deserving of such vehement vitriol. The World puts the curse of existence on all of us. To live is seldom joyous. I think we can all agree with that. Heehee.


    ¡°And I had nothing to do with the fact that he was made to serve as Ansoir¡¯s personal Talus, though that is something worth seeking vengeance over.¡±


    Leira pressed her palms against her temples. ¡°Whatever. Brock, kill this miserable freak and be quick about it.¡±


    The Talus heaved as Leira skittered away. But Brock hesitated, his limbs shaking. He toppled over onto his side. His boulders sighed and went limp. He looked like a sleeping bear.


    ¡°Tch. Get up, Brock.¡± She moved to stand above Buzzard, who still sat on the ground. ¡°You¡¯re important, yeah? I guess I¡¯m collecting hostages then.¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s long, noodley arm flared with light and swung at Leira.


    She¡¯d been prepared for that. The lotus opened, puffed out a cloud of pink spores. The scientist sneezed, and then fell over onto his side, stiff as a board.


    ¡°Ah ah ah, nice try,¡± Leira said, wagging her finger. ¡°I¡¯m no idiot. I see you''re jacked to the tits with Kaia. I guess that¡¯s why you¡¯re still conscious, too.¡±


    ¡°Merciless gods,¡± Buzzard said, speaking through a locked-up jaw and a slack tongue. ¡°It¡¯s real. You are a Megrim Child. You hold the World in your eye!¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Leira said, kicking him in the ribs. ¡°Sorry, Brock, but he¡¯s coming with us. He seems useful.¡± She picked Buzzard up under his arms and shoved him up into the litter, dropping him behind the chairs so that he laid on top of Ansoir. Then she sat down with Buzzard¡¯s laser gun lying across her lap.


    After a fit of grunting, Buzzard said, ¡°Who¡¯s this that I¡¯m lying on top of? Lord Ansoir! You have him with you? I demand to know what¡¯s going on. I despise being ignorant.¡±


    ¡°Good thinking, Brock,¡± Leira said. ¡°This guy can tell us where to go. Where¡¯s the action at, doc?¡±


    ¡°Turn around,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°You were going the wrong way.¡±


    Brock spun about and went back up the tunnel. Leira hummed along with the shrill pulses of the alarm.


    ¡°What were you doing firing this laser gun off all willy-nilly?¡± she asked, holding the weapon up.


    ¡°Is someone so gifted truly so dense? I was blockading myself, so I wouldn¡¯t get ripped apart by a horde of angry prisoners, obviously. Heehee. I happened to be outside of my laboratory when the commotion began, and it seems things are escalating.


    ¡°By the way, your enchantment is making it very difficult for me to speak. How does it work? You are a myth made real. And not just real, but undeniable. I didn¡¯t think any of you existed anymore.¡± That whole slew of words came out as a garbled mess.


    ¡°You¡¯re talking more than enough,¡± Leira said. ¡°Hey, did you see a new prisoner? A Hallow, named Gwil.¡±


    Buzzard squealed. ¡°Oh my. Oh yes, I know him. Heehee. This has suddenly become the most interesting day I¡¯ve had in a long time.¡±


    ¡°You do?¡± Leira yelled. ¡°Is he okay?¡±


    ¡°It sounds like he¡¯s doing quite well,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Alright, Megrim Daughter. I will ally with you.¡±


    ¡°Fat chance,¡± Leira said. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m stuck with you and I don¡¯t want to die, of course. Heehee.¡±


    ***


    As the prisoners rushed the door, the drill tank plowed forward.


    And then the monstrous contraption stalled, lurched, and went off-kilter. Its treads had rolled up onto the field of iron balls.


    The Podexians screamed as the tank swerved backward and slid out, its deadly front end swiveling out of control. The careening drill chewed through a clump of bodies, turning them into red mist.


    In that moment, when the prisoners crashed against the Podexian line, it was raining blood.


    The tank crashed against the frame of the door, settling there, across the opening, with its outer side propped up on a cluster of iron balls. The drill stopped spinning, but the engine continued to chug.


    Gwil hurled himself into the mass of bodies and spears, into the thick of the Podexian ranks. He wrenched weapons away from their wielders, plucking them from weak arms like a parent snatching something from a child. He slammed his fists into anything he could reach, the half-formed one landing with wet, squelching impacts like a sponge slammed down on the floor.


    Stabbing spears ripped chunks out of his flesh, and yet they slowed him down no more than if they were mosquito bites.


    The Nirva flowed like a raging river. Oh, how the voices screamed. With the cries of the Podexians and the wheezing lungs of the prisoners, they formed a harmonious chorus. This conflict was drenched with the crimson-black hues of the Yalda¡¯blood.


    As he fought, moving as if this was a dance that he knew by heart, Gwil wondered. What the hell is Yalda¡¯blood? I¡¯ve never heard of that, but I know that it¡¯s the name of this tattered veil. And I see that we are all swaddled in its essence.


    Weird. Oh, well.


    His hand lashed out to catch a spear as its tip came within a hair of his adam¡¯s apple. He jerked the weapon back so that its butt rammed into the ribs of its wielder.


    That man stumbled, and then Gwil choked up his grip on the weapon and charged forward. Using the man¡¯s body a bit like a garden plow, he bowled through a few Podexians.


    That game ended when two enemies rammed into him from the side. As Gwil staggered, he wrapped his arms around them and threw himself backwards, giggling as he suplexed them.


    However, the Podexians had recognized him as a terrible threat, and they saw that he was lying on the ground, vulnerable.


    Gwil flailed under a flurry of stomping boots. So many. Pain shot through his body when they struck his wounds. He wrestled to get free, but they pinned his limbs down, smashing him in the head over and over.


    Again, he felt that horrible sensation of the Nirva growing thin. Piddling, diluted embers dribbling through his veins. It drained away too fast. Too much damage. The voices went quiet.


    Blood sprayed. A lot of blood. And it splashed down onto him, so it couldn¡¯t have been his. The beating ended, but there were still feet everywhere. Lots of them were bare and blue.


    Cort stood over Gwil¡ªred, gleaming, and grinning. The prisoners had broken through and the Podexians had fallen back.


    Cort held out his hand. Gwil took it and stood, noting how his own arm looked like a pile of raw chicken.


    ¡°We¡¯re winning,¡± Cort said.


    And then that horrible whining sound returned. Gwil jumped up to see, though he already knew. The Podexians had fallen all the way back and the drill tank was working on extracting itself from its jam.


    Gwil put his hands on Cort¡¯s shoulders. ¡°I can stop it. Throw me.¡±


    Cort laced his fingers together and Gwil stepped up. At the same time Cort heaved, Gwil launched himself.


    He went twirling through the air, soaring over the enemies, crashing through a few aloft spears, and landed atop the drill tank.


    The Podexians, noticing his intrusion, began jabbing at Gwil with their spears, and trying to grab hold of his kicking legs. He crawled around to the front side of the vehicle so that the wall was behind him. The whirring drill protected him from another angle.


    He glimpsed Cort heading the swarm of surging prisoners. They were backing him up. If he couldn¡¯t stop the tank, they¡¯d be butchered. Aww, Gwil thought. Cort really trusts me.


    The hatch on the roof of the tank appeared to open with some sort of spinning wheel on its top. Gwil tugged at it with all his might, but it wouldn¡¯t budge.


    He began pounding his fists on it. The sounds of impact were dull for the thickness of the metal. He tried the wheel again from a different angle and then rammed his fingers into the infinitesimally narrow seal of the hatch.


    A spear impaled his foot. Not my new boots! Gwil kept ramming his fingers into the seal, pushing until they were pulped. His finger bones were being ground down into little bits. Slivers of his flesh got stuck in the seal.


    That was something. He had to get through. He started using his head to ram against the seal. Whether he was trying to rip it open or force his way through, Gwil wasn¡¯t sure.


    He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, screeching like a demon as he spent everything he had. He saw stars. The screaming voices went wild.


    Parts of his hands had made it through, but some damnable instinct of self-preservation prevented him from forcing his skull through.


    Some irrelevant part of him knew¡ªthis was delusion. Nothing but lunatic determination. Yalda¡¯blood bloomed through his darkened vision. It smothered him. The whole World was crushing him. Pins and needles, stabbing everywhere.


    Through all the screaming, a single small voice whispered in his mind. His limbs, everything¡­ deflating.


    Pop.


    Relief, sweet relief. Gwil gasped, felt his lungs balloon at a rush of air. But nothing hurt. He felt great. Shit, did I die?


    Someone was screaming in his ear. And something was jabbing into his chest.


    Gwil rubbed his eyes and then found that he was face to face with a masked man. A Podexian. He was the one doing the screaming, and Gwil screamed too.


    He was sitting in the man¡¯s lap. Gwil jumped back and smacked his head on something. The space was very cramped.


    The man began shoving Gwil and trying to hit him. Gwil untangled his arm, ripped the man¡¯s mask off, and then smacked him across the face. That stopped him.


    This place was tiny, and everything was shaking. The drill was still whining¡­


    ¡°Ahaha! How did I get in here?¡± Gwil laughed. ¡°I bet you pissed yourself when I appeared in your lap. Gross. Did you see what happened? Did I teleport? Or turn into string like a meat grinder?¡±


    The man stared, sputtering.


    ¡°Do I look normal?¡± Gwil asked.


    Wide-eyed, the man raised his hand and touched his own forehead. Gwil mirrored him and felt a wet flap of flesh. He sort of pasted it back in place and said, ¡°That¡¯s nothing. So, you didn¡¯t see how I did it?¡±


    The man shook his head.


    ¡°Can you move over?¡± Gwil asked, shoving the man and trying to twist himself into a better position. ¡°There¡¯s not much space in here. Hey, how do you drive this thing?¡±


    The man continued sputtering.


    ¡°You¡¯re not helpful. Get out of the way.¡±


    Gwil reached above the man and unlocked the hatch, then threw it open. After some shifting around, he got his hands under the driver¡¯s arms. He flung the man up out of the hatch, then pulled it closed.


    Settling into the seat, Gwil looked at the mess of cranks and levers and foot pedals and dials and glowing red lights. He began hitting things at random and then craned his neck to see out the tiny sliver of a window.


    The tank lurched. The drill sputtered.


    He smacked the control panel with both hands. ¡°What the hell am I supposed to do?¡±

 Chapter Twenty – You Were Here!

    The controls made no sense! When Gwil tried to go left, the damn thing went right. When he wanted to go forward, it spun in circles. He shouldn¡¯t have thrown the driver out; he could''ve used the man''s help.


    Pressing the big red button labeled ¡®STOP¡¯ had turned off the actual drill, which, while disappointing, was for the best. Through the narrow windshield, he¡¯d glimpsed both Podexians and prisoners fleeing in terror, and it would¡¯ve been tragic if he drilled any prisoners after declaring that he¡¯d save every single one of them.


    It seemed like he¡¯d gotten stuck on the wall or something. No matter what he tried, the tank just lurched back and forth.


    Gwil sighed. He wasn¡¯t accomplishing anything. Full of shame, he threw open the hatch.


    Sticking his head out the top, Gwil found that cheering prisoners surrounded the tank. No Podexians in sight. And he was delighted to learn that he¡¯d driven the tank through the door, out into the tunnel that led to the mining cavern. It had gotten lodged sideways across the tunnel, but whatever. The thing was useless, anyway.


    The prisoners banged on the hull of the tank in celebration. Many of them were already pushing further up the tunnel. Gwil could hear Isca yelling up ahead.


    He climbed out onto the roof of the tank, looking around for Cort, only to find that the man stood right beside him.


    ¡°They retreated down the tunnel when you took the tank,¡± Cort said. ¡°We gotta push after ¡®em, but we have a second to breathe. Good job. But you¡¯re gonna let me drive that thing, cause that was¡­ abhorrent.¡±


    ¡°Good luck,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Hey, we¡¯re off to a good start.¡±


    ¡°Aye, the easy part¡¯s done. How the hell did you get inside the tank?¡±


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°I was gonna ask you that. You didn¡¯t see?¡±


    ¡°One second you were there, then you were gone. To be honest, I thought you got juiced by the drill. But then I realized it must have been you driving when the tank started¡­¡± He spun his finger in haphazard circles.


    Gwil cupped his hand to his ear. ¡°Do you hear that?¡±


    A chugging engine. Prisoners started fleeing back down the tunnel.


    ***


    Leira, Buzzard (still immobilized), Ansoir (still asleep), and Brock lumbered toward the madness at the end of the tunnel. They were coming up on the Podexians from behind.


    A minute ago, a host of guards had rushed past them, driving some bizarre-looking excavation machine that resembled a giant bear trap with churning spiked jaws. So determined was that crew that they paid no mind to the Talus wandering down the tunnel.


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit regrettable to unleash such devastating power upon my former allies,¡± Buzzard mused. ¡°But I do admit, I¡¯ve been devilishly curious about the full potential of my invention. Heehee.¡±


    ¡°Makes sense to me,¡± Leira said. ¡°You¡¯re a traitorous scumbag.¡±


    ¡°Is it really betrayal when I was only here to take advantage of Stondemaier¡¯s resources and negligence?¡± Buzzard said. ¡°In any case, I¡¯m merely¡­ nudging the needle. Those men are doomed. I am incapacitated. You have taken my weapon, and I have no power to stop you from using it. You already have checkmate in this engagement, so it¡¯s only logical that I help you.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Leira yelped. ¡°Couldn¡¯t this thing make all the Kaia explode?¡±


    ¡°I am a world-renowned authority on Kaia, you imbecile! Do you really think I would¡¯ve forgotten about that? The weapon¡¯s fuel is cut with Erithist. You could submerge yourself in a vat of Kaia and pull the trigger, and the Kaia wouldn¡¯t even spark. Don¡¯t question a scientist!¡±


    ¡°Huh? That shit deadens Kaia too?¡± Leira asked. She knew about Erithist¡¯s uses against Hallows, but she¡¯d never heard that before.


    ¡°Little known fact,¡± Buzzard squealed. ¡°The interaction is not so utterly domineering as it is with Nirva, but yes. And they like to keep it very quiet. Heehee.¡±


    ***


    There¡¯d been a lot of rumbling, shaking things during Gwil¡¯s time within the prison. But this sound was different. Shrill and visceral, like a knife slashing up the guts of the earth.


    ¡°GET BACK!¡± Cort screamed.


    The prisoners did not need to be told¡ªthey were already running for their lives.


    The terrifying machine came into view. Two pillars on the side, glowing with cords of Kaia. The thing between them was like a giant mouth.


    The jaws were smashing together like some rabid, spliced-up beaver, lined with teeth that were giant spiked balls. The thing was chewing through the tunnel and spitting debris.


    Cort grabbed Gwil and dragged him back. The prisoners poured back into the cavern that they¡¯d just fought their way out of. They¡¯d gone silent except for their buzzing breaths.


    Cort dumped Gwil on top of the tank and climbed down into the hatch. ¡°I¡¯m gonna crash into it. Do whatever you can. If I die, Isca¡¯s in charge.¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Before Gwil could say anything, Cort slammed the hatch and fired up the engine.


    He could hear Cort yelling and swearing as he inched the tank forward and backward, forward and backward, maneuvering out of the jam that Gwil had left it in.


    The gnashing jaws drew closer, slow but relentless. The ceiling collapsed in the machine¡¯s wake. The ground shattered with the upheaval.


    The tank began rolling forward, straight into hell¡¯s own meat grinder. Gwil repositioned himself, crouching, ready¡­ to do what?


    The tank stood no chance. This thing would pulverize them. The jaws destroyed solid rock like a horse chomping on carrots.


    Gwil began prying at the tank¡¯s hatch again¡ªthe bastard had locked it. But this wasn¡¯t gonna work. He needed to get Cort out of there. They¡¯d try something else.


    But he couldn¡¯t force his way through. No time. Gwil slammed his fists against the hatch. His scream tore at his throat. Too slow. Always too slow.


    He stood and faced the machine. Five meters. He could see the driver positioned on a platform that rolled along behind the jaws. There was no space to go around. He had to jump through the jaws.


    Just before he leapt, an eruption of purple fire filled the tunnel.


    ***


    Leira cackled like a demon as she unleashed a storm of hellfire upon the Podexians.


    Standing atop the litter, she held that power in her hands. Spraying the weapon from side to side, as if watering a garden with a hose, she flooded the tunnel with destruction.


    Roaring, ravenous, purple fire, the shade of lavender. She wrote death. Traced endings. She knew not how many. That the scales could be tipped so easily. With just the strength in her finger. How terrifying.


    They did not scream. They did not get the chance to turn around and look at her. How many souls? A hundred?


    Gone. Lives reduced to ash in the blink of an eye.


    The river of fire engulfed the excavation machine. She saw the driver crumble into dust. The flames licked the exposed Kaia conduits¡­ and nothing. The machine¡¯s towers sagged, melting, as it sputtered to a halt.


    The flames died out quickly, as Buzzard had promised. The whooshing roar ceased. Her laughter filled the tunnel, ringing off the walls.


    Leira hiccupped into silence. A single sob racked her shoulders. She clenched her teeth against the next.


    ¡°It¡¯s so easy,¡± she muttered. ¡°So easy to be monstrous.¡±


    Beneath her, Buzzard stuck his head out of the litter and looked up at her. The effects of her spores had worn off for the doctor, but she had dosed Ansoir again to keep him unconscious.


    Knees shaking, Leira sat down.


    The doctor climbed up to join her, easily thanks to his lengthy arms. ¡°Your morals are too human. Everyone dies. We¡¯re all just living on borrowed time. What you did to them is nothing compared to the unavoidable eternity of suffering that awaits in the Hells. Heehee. And that was not such a bad way to go. Instant. No pain. No fear. No mess.¡±


    Buzzard sat down beside her. Leira nearly shoved him off. Instead, she threw the laser gun away. ¡°Why did you build that awful thing?¡±


    ¡°Guh,¡± Buzzard gulped as the gun clattered across the ground. ¡°Um, it was very expensive. But if anyone has the right to such power, it¡¯s you, Megrim Daughter.¡±


    Leira glared at him.


    ¡°Perhaps a history lesson is in order. These nuclear-powered weapons¡ªcolloquially referred to as laser or plasma weapons. In the Old World, they were the deadliest power that humanity possessed. Capable of causing transgenerational damage on a massive scale, both biologically and environmentally. The World revolved around them. Their destructive potential created a stalemate that lasted centuries.


    ¡°But not forever. These weapons were unleashed during the frenzied aftermath of the Apocalypse. Their radiation should be a deadly poison. But it is a part of us now. Hardly more dangerous than regular fire. We changed. How could such a change come to pass? Certainly not through natural evolution.¡±


    ¡°Get to the fuckin¡¯ point,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°The point is that our World is full of power that should not be. Unearned, stolen, profane. Kaia, Nirva, the divinities themselves. These forces cannot be avoided or eliminated. They will be wielded. Tools, nothing more, nothing less. It is the will of the bearers that matters.¡±


    Leira didn¡¯t know what to say to that hogwash. And then Brock collapsed. She and Buzzard were bucked off, sent rolling onto the ground. Ansoir had tumbled out of the litter to lie motionless beside them.


    The Talus lay on his stomach, slamming his fists against the ground like a child throwing a tantrum. That he had no voice with which to utter his despair made it worse.


    Leira clutched at the pang in her gut. ¡°Fucking hell.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Whaaaat is happening!¡± Gwil yelled.


    The purple fire was devouring everything.


    Cort had brought the tank to a halt.


    The giant jaws, blackened and melted, went still, slack like a dead animal.


    The unnatural flames dissipated. It had only lasted seconds. A raging inferno, blown out like a candle.


    Cort threw open the hatch and stuck his head out. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± he barked. ¡°Did you do that?¡±


    Gwil didn¡¯t answer. He squinted through the haze, a grin forming on his face as he climbed down from the tank and moved up the tunnel.


    ¡°Leira! Leira!¡±


    He started running.


    The fire had melted everything into fluffy ash, even the piles of fallen rock and a layer of the ground itself. It was like running through fresh snow, except that the soles of his boots were melting. Little purple tracks, embers, cut through the ash like veins.


    Leira turned. They leapt into each other¡¯s arms. Gwil started jumping up and down.


    ¡°I knew you¡¯d come! Cort, everyone! Get over here! I told you!¡±


    Leira was beaming. ¡°Fucking hell, Gwil, you made a mess of this. Nice!¡± Prisoners emerged from the tunnel, hesitation turning into excitement. ¡°Who are all those people? You¡¯re staging a whole prison break?¡±


    ¡°You saved us all!¡± Gwil yelled, swinging her arms around. ¡°I was sure we were all dead. And then whoooosh! You were here! Just in time.¡±


    Her expression quivered, but she turned it into a stilted laugh. Then she shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t even know how many I just killed. Look.¡± She gestured at the ashy field. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°Stop that. We¡¯re all only alive because of you. And you didn¡¯t have a choice.¡± He grabbed her shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re a hero, Leira. I bet not even Ashkana could¡¯ve done it.¡±


    She smiled at that. Then, looking over Gwil¡¯s shoulder to see the horde of ghoulish prisoners, she nodded. ¡°So, what¡¯s going on? We¡¯re really breaking everyone out?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Gwil said, grinning. ¡°Everyone. But that was always what I was gonna do. After we met that lady that you made cry -Sophia, I think¨C I thought this place needed changing. Leira, it sucks so bad here.¡±


    Leira blinked. ¡°Okay. But we need to hurry.¡±


    Gwil pulled Cort to the fore. ¡°Leira, this is Cort. He¡¯s tough and smart and hilarious.¡±


    Cort scowled. ¡°I thought he was bad. And then you show up spraying an atomic like it¡¯s a bottle of champagne. You did not disappoint.¡±


    ¡°Funny you say that,¡± Leira said. She started speaking very fast. ¡°And nice to meet you. But we gotta get going. Kaia. Leviathan. Gwil, this place is psychotic. I¡¯ve got the guy who hit you with his skimmer over there.¡± She gestured behind her. ¡°Ugh, and that cowboy bastard, don¡¯t even get me started.¡±


    ¡°Is that Doctor Buzzard?¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°I knew you weren¡¯t really a piece of shit, doc!¡±


    Buzzard waved at Gwil but stayed back where he was.


    ¡°Oooh! Leira!¡± Gwil ran to where Brock lay motionless on the ground. ¡°You made friends with the rock guy? That¡¯s so cool!¡±

 Chapter Twenty-One – Two Paths You Can Go By

    The prisoners were gathering themselves¡ªtreating injuries, picking up weapons, and looting the guards in the cavern¡ªthe that had not been vaporized. Cort and Isca were running all over the place, steering the proverbial ship.


    Further up the tunnel, Gwil nudged the Talus¡¯s motionless form with his foot. ¡°What¡¯s with it?¡±


    ¡°His name¡¯s Brock,¡± Leira said. ¡°I think he¡¯s sad ¡®cause¡­ well, evidently rocks are peaceful folk.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± Gwil said. He knelt beside the Talus¡¯s head. ¡°Hey Brock, get up. Do you remember me? I was gonna ask you something a few days ago.¡±


    Brock made no acknowledgement.


    ¡°I wanted to know if you¡¯ve ever been in the sea. ¡®Cause I figure you¡¯d sink and be able to walk around on the bottom, right? Maybe you¡¯re one of the only living things that can do that. I mean, besides fish and stuff.¡±


    ¡°He can¡¯t talk, Gwil,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Oh. But he understands, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Gwil began drumming on the Talus¡¯s body. ¡°Hey Brock, have you ever gone in the sea? You live right next to it.¡±


    Brock drew himself upright, moving like a sack of potatoes. He shook his head.


    ¡°Oh man, you gotta do it. I bet it¡¯d be amazing. Who knows what you¡¯d find down there?¡±


    ¡°Damn you for making me feel guilty, you stupid statue,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯m the one who pulled the trigger. All you did was watch.¡±


    Brock shook his head at Leira and then clattered over to the place where Ansoir lay.


    ¡°What the hell? Is he sleeping?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°Yeah, I knocked him out,¡± Leira said.


    Gwil laughed. ¡°Oh yeah, I forgot you can do that. Did you kidnap him?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, him and Doctor Dickhead. You met him?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± Gwil said. ¡°And he froze me up with some drug. Bad karma, doc.¡±


    ¡°You did not kidnap me!¡± Buzzard said. ¡°We are temporary allies. But yes, that bit of irony is not lost on me, and I assure you, it is bitter.¡±


    Buzzard looked at Gwil and adjusted his goggles. ¡°I had an inkling that you were a unique individual. Come to learn that you are in league with a Megrim Daughter¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°Who exactly are you?¡±


    ¡°A what? I¡¯m no one. My name¡¯s Gwil Oubliette.¡±


    Leira smacked him upside the head. ¡°Don¡¯t tell him that, Gwil. You don¡¯t need to answer his questions.¡±


    ¡°Huh? It¡¯s just my name.¡±


    ¡°I know, but there¡¯s something strange about you,¡± Leira said. ¡°Best keep quiet.¡±


    ¡°Oubliette?¡± Buzzard squeaked, stroking his chin. ¡°Like a dungeon? Heehee. Well, you two can relax. I¡¯ve never heard of such a surname. Of course, I will conduct research on its lineage, assuming I survive this appallingly ham-fisted prison break.¡±


    Gwil scuffed up some of the congealing laser gunk with his heel. It had turned into something like slushy snow. ¡°Damn. I was hoping one of the guards might turn into a Hallow,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Maybe they did, only to get melted right away,¡± Leira said, grimacing.


    ¡°Of course that didn¡¯t happen, fool,¡± Buzzard snapped. ¡°They¡¯re just a bunch of mindless goons. None of them possessed the necessary constitution. Hallows are rare.¡±


    Leira shoved Gwil out of the way and grabbed Buzzard by the collar. ¡°What¡¯d you know about Hallows?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a brilliant scientist,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°And that is one of the World¡¯s greatest mysteries. I have my theories, of course. Nothing concrete, but heehee. There¡¯s certainly a guiding hand. A will, if you will. There are no coincidences on this planet, young lady.


    ¡°All the chaos might look that way to we of simple minds, because it¡¯s a war of grand orchestrations. Note how I say ¡®we¡¯ and know that I would never disparage my own intellect lightly.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like you don¡¯t know,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Why are we still standing around here?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t patronize me,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°You reek of moronism. I simply don¡¯t know yet.¡±


    ¡°Let us know when you find out then, eh?¡± Leira said. ¡°Hey Gwil, did you get to see any robots?¡±


    ¡°Whaaat? No! Where?¡±


    ¡°They had some simple ones at the manor serving drinks.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll steal one while we escape,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Hey, is that guy cool?¡± He asked, pointing at Ansoir.


    ¡°No, he¡¯s extremely annoying and awful,¡± Leira said. ¡°That he ran you over with his skimmer wouldn¡¯t even make the list of his shitty characteristics.¡±


    Cort and Isca came running over as the prisoners began to march up the tunnel.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Isca!¡± Gwil yelped, skipping over to them. ¡°Did anyone die?¡±


    She fixed him with her black-in-black eyes. ¡°No. No one.¡± She smiled¡ªher teeth looked so dirty against her chalk white skin. ¡°Keep it up, please. If you can.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s time to go,¡± Cort said. ¡°Seems like they locked things down.¡±


    ¡°We need to find the other shift,¡± Isca said. She shook her head. ¡°They could be in their mines, or their Sty.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We were supposed to get them right away, weren¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s obviously out the window,¡± Cort said. ¡°Also, a lot of the prisoners wanna kill you, Buzzard. Just so you know.¡±


    ¡°I am well aware of that, thank you,¡± Buzzard said, making himself look small.


    ¡°And you must be Leira,¡± Isca said. ¡°You burned all those motherfuckers. I¡¯m jealous.¡±


    Leira giggled and curtsied. ¡°I love your tattoos.¡±


    ¡°I wanna go up ahead,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Hey, is Brock fast?¡±


    ¡°He can be,¡± Leira said. ¡°Brock, are you done moping? You care about peace?¡± She pointed back at the prisoners. ¡°What they¡¯ve dealt with here is way worse than what I did. Do you have ears? Do you hear the way they breathe? And you¡¯ve been fucking watching it happen for how long? A decade? Get up.¡±


    Brock rolled over to them. He¡¯d placed Ansoir back inside the litter, and his posture was less dejected.


    ¡°We¡¯ve already talked about that, Gwil,¡± Isca said. ¡°You, Cort, and Leira are gonna go scout ahead. Clear the way and try to find the other shift. I will lead everyone else, and I promise we will all make it.¡±


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go!¡± Gwil said. He jumped up into the litter.


    ¡°Ahem!¡± Buzzard wheezed. ¡°I will be coming with you as well, so I don¡¯t get killed.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you, Buzzard,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Just toss the doc in the back with Ansoir,¡± Leira said. ¡°We¡¯ll all squeeze in.¡±


    A small voice called down the tunnel. ¡°Hello? Um. Hello?¡±. The prisoners stirred. The man put his hands up and cowered.


    ¡°Dwillard!¡± Gwil yelled. He jumped down from the Talus and ran down the tunnel, flailing his arms as a group of prisoners started bearing down on the lone Podexian guard. ¡°Wait! Don¡¯t attack him. He¡¯s with us.¡±


    The prisoners listened, but they did not look happy. Gwil pushed his way through and made it to Dwillard. He grabbed the man¡¯s wrist and started dragging him through jeers and spit back up the tunnel.


    ¡°T-thank you,¡± Dwillard said. ¡°I don¡¯t deserve this.¡±


    ¡°Eh, no one deserves anything,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Ah, this is perfect,¡± Doctor Buzzard said when Gwil and Dwillard returned to the group. ¡°Dwillard, was it? Since you and I are both turncoats, I am still your superior. And you get a promotion. You are now my personal assistant. That makes you Assistant to the Chief Scientist, Assistant to the-¡±


    Cort picked Buzzard up and threw him into the litter.


    ¡°I¡¯m riding on the roof. You all have fun in there,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Oo, me too,¡± Gwil said, climbing up after him.


    Leira and the others got into the litter, and Leira said, ¡°Okay, Brock, go! Fast as you can.¡±


    ¡°Keep safe, Isca,¡± Cort called back.


    The extra weight proved no issue for the Talus as he went tearing down the tunnel.


    Gwil sat, legs dangling, entranced by the healing process of his hand. The skin was reforming, a maddening pattern of impossible growth. It was pale and translucent, much as Leira had been when Gwil first found her.


    He could feel the Nirva flowing there. He focused on it, directing more of it into his hand. It was like a reflex, a bit like making himself pee, except in his arm. His hand grew hotter, and the healing sped up. That could be useful.


    They reached a four-way intersection, where Brock began spinning in circles of indecision.


    ¡°Left here,¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°No!¡± Cort leaned over the edge to look down into the litter. ¡°We need to go right.¡±


    ¡°Idiot. Left is faster. I have lived here for thirty years. I helped design this facility! Talus, do not listen to that fool.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s right,¡± Cort growled, swinging a fist at Buzzard. ¡°We can¡¯t trust this piece of shit.¡±


    ¡°I think it might be right,¡± Dwillard whispered.


    ¡°Traitor!¡± Buzzard hissed. ¡°You¡¯re demoted.¡±


    ¡°Just go straight, Brock!¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Straight?¡±


    ¡°Fucking hell! Shut up!¡± Leira screeched. ¡°We don¡¯t actually know where these other prisoners are. What are you even arguing about? You¡¯re probably both wrong.¡±


    Brock flopped down on the ground.


    ¡°Fine! I need to get to my laboratory,¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°See?¡± Cort said. ¡°Bastard!¡±


    Buzzard continued. ¡°My invaluable, world-altering research must be salvaged. Its destruction would be an unforgiveable crime against humanity.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you, Buzzard,¡± Cort said.


    The doctor scrambled out of the Talus and prostrated himself in front of them. ¡°Please. It is more precious to me than my life. I¡¯d rather die than see it destroyed. I have things! Tools that could aid you in this escape. Please.¡±


    Gwil jumped down and lifted Buzzard up by the collar. ¡°I¡¯ll go with the doctor, and we¡¯ll meet back up.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Cort said. ¡°There¡¯s gonna be a fight. We need you, Gwil. Fuck Doctor Buzzard.¡±


    Gwil waved him off. ¡°You and Leira can handle them.¡±


    ¡°We can?¡± Leira said. ¡°Yeah, alright.¡± She turned to Cort. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry your big-ass head off. I¡¯ll take care of everything.¡±


    ¡°Come along, assistant,¡± Buzzard said. Dwillard clambered down.


    ¡°See you in a bit,¡± Gwil said.


    He, Buzzard, and Dwillard set out down the left path, while the others went right.


    ***


    Cort swung down to sit in the chair inside the litter. ¡°Don¡¯t use that laser gun again,¡± he said to Leira. ¡°You nearly melted all of us, and we don¡¯t know what the situation is gonna be.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even have it with me,¡± Leira said. ¡°And what do you mean, nearly? You two were about to let everyone get devoured. Why¡¯d you let them bring that machine down there? You should¡¯ve known better.¡±


    ¡°I should know better? You know nothing about me, and you don¡¯t know what happened.¡±


    ¡°So, I¡¯ve overestimated your capabilities? Sorry, won¡¯t happen again,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Argh!¡±


    ¡°Calm down,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯ll free those other prisoners. You don¡¯t even need to lift a finger. Why don¡¯t you take a nap? You seem grouchy.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it,¡± Cort muttered. ¡°I can¡¯t believe that you¡¯re worse than him. Where do you two get off having this absurd, lunatic confidence?¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t speak for Gwil,¡± Leira said. ¡°But I get it from experience.¡±


    ¡°Shh! I need to listen,¡± Cort said. ¡°Stop moving, rock!¡±


    They sat in another intersection. Leira waited a beat and said, ¡°You¡¯re not deaf. It¡¯s silent.¡±


    ¡°The other group does their mining down there,¡± Cort said. ¡°They¡¯re not here. They must be holed up in their Sty. That¡¯s better for us. No blast door, hopefully no crazy machines.


    ¡°Left here, then the next right, rock,¡± Cort said, sagging down in his chair and tilting his head back.


    Brock rolled along down the path. This tunnel was the same as all the others¡ªbare rough, rock. Dripping wet. Littered with scraps and gravel.


    ¡°Wh¨Cwhat¡¯s going on?¡± A dull voice said from behind. ¡°Where am I?¡±


    ¡°Oh no,¡± Leira muttered.


    ¡°Oh my god!¡± Ansoir squealed. ¡°I¡¯ve been kidnapped.¡±


    Cort whipped around and glared down at the crumpled, screeching lord.


    ¡°I¡¯ll handle this,¡± Leira said. ¡°Hey Ansoir, you fell asleep.¡±


    ¡°Lady Leira!¡±


    ¡°Lady?¡± Cort scoffed.


    ¡°Bitch! Guards! Guards!¡±


    ¡°Do something,¡± Cort snapped. ¡°Make him shut up.¡±


    ¡°Guards! Your lord is in danger! Save me! Brock! Father! Sheriff Jackson! Anyone!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not worth putting him back to sleep,¡± Leira said. ¡°I need to save my spores.¡±


    ¡°What? I¡¯ll just choke him out then,¡± Cort said, turning around.


    A massive stone hand reached in and grabbed Cort, then dropped him on the floor.


    Leira burst out laughing. ¡°Stop, Brock, stop. He was only joking. We¡¯re gonna help Ansoir, I promise. I won¡¯t let him get hurt. We¡¯ll make things better for him.¡±


    ¡°Brock! Don¡¯t you dare! You fucking traitor. Brock!¡±


    The Talus again fell over in abject despair.

 Chapter Twenty-Two - Choices

    ¡°Here¡¯s the deal, Ansoir,¡± Leira said. ¡°You¡¯re just about the biggest piece of shit I¡¯ve ever met. Trust me, I¡¯ve encountered some wretched motherfuckers. But they at least had the strength to back it up. They were capable. Powerful. You¡¯re worthless and scummy. Weak and whiny. Every word that comes out of your mouth is like a nail being hammered into my skull. Every time you speak, I feel stupider and more hateful at the World for bringing you into existence.¡±


    Ansoir opened his mouth, but no sound came out. She might as well have slapped him across the face. She sure wanted to.


    ¡°Can we not have a fucking council meeting in the middle of our prison break?¡± Cort grumbled as he paced back and forth.


    That was exactly what they were doing. Leira, Ansoir, and Brock sat in a circle in the middle of the tunnel. The Talus refused to carry them further. Leira was about to leave them behind. But¡­ dammit.


    Myriad expressions twisted across Ansoir¡¯s face. He leaned forward on his hands, as if about to vomit.


    ¡°Lady Leira. I¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say. It was all a lie?¡±


    ¡°Of course it was a fucking lie,¡± she spat. ¡°You ran my friend over with your gaudy-ass skimmer and then gave him a death sentence for it. I saw the accident. He was being nice to you afterwards, and that was how you answered. If it wasn¡¯t for Brock, I would¡¯ve already cut your head off.¡±


    ¡°Brock?¡± Ansoir said. ¡°I could order him to crush you right now, woman.¡± But his voice was reed thin.


    ¡°You sure about that?¡± Cort said, stopping his pacing to loom over the little lord.


    ¡°Cort, please,¡± Leira said. ¡°Stop trying to hold on to this farce, Ansoir. It makes you look even more pathetic.


    ¡°Brock would refuse you. He¡¯s your silent slave, and your only friend in the World. A fucking pile of rocks and he¡¯s got more humanity than you. Do you know why he¡¯s not protecting you from me? He wants to help you. He¡¯s the only person in the World that gives a damn about you.¡±


    Leira shook her head. ¡°You must be one of the luckiest people in the World. Born rich, never had to fear for your life, never wanted for something that you needed. And you just piss all over everyone and everything. But here I am, giving you another fucking chance. Even though I don¡¯t think you deserve to live. Because I feel bad for that walking rock-person who cares about you so much even though you treat him like shit.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s gonna happen next, but you get a choice. Because I decided to keep you alive. You can stay here, sitting on the ground like the crusty turd that you are, or you can learn to be a decent fucking person, and try to scrub away the stain that you¡¯ve left on the World. If someone like you can change, maybe I¡¯d get a fucking sliver of hope out of it.¡±


    Cort gave a few slow claps.


    ¡°Lady Leira, I-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m no fuckin¡¯ lady,¡± Leira said.


    Ansoir cupped his face and started hyperventilating. ¡°You filthy slaves are destroying my birthright!¡± he squealed through clenched teeth.


    Leira stood up. ¡°Yes. You will lose everything. Welcome to the club.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to die,¡± Ansoir wailed. ¡°You won¡¯t survive this, you witless ingrates! Sheriff Jackson will kill you all, and I¡¯ll be stuck with you.¡±


    The lotus petals swayed, tickling her cheek. ¡°Gwil and I won¡¯t be stopped in your wretched little kingdom. One day, the World will turn upon our shoulders. This place is nothing.¡±


    Cort doubled over, raking his fingers through his tomato-red hair. ¡°I¡¯m surrounded by madmen,¡± he groaned. ¡°Can we hurry it up?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m done. Let¡¯s go,¡± Leira said.


    Skittering gravel. Cort pushed past her.


    Ansoir lay flat on his back like a starfish, blood pouring from a crumpled nose. A dagger lay on the ground beside his hand.


    ¡°Did he just try to stab me?¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cort said, wiping his bloodied hand off on his dirty jumpsuit.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± she said. ¡°Rotten to the core, I guess.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t, I can¡¯t, I can¡¯t!¡± Ansoir screamed. He was on all fours, pounding his fists against the ground. ¡°I can¡¯t let you ruin everything! This is my legacy! Please. Perhaps I could be a little less cruel to the slaves, but¡­¡± His pleading turned into unintelligible sobbing, a spoiled child receiving their first punishment.


    Brock bopped Ansoir on the head with a flick of his stone finger. The little lord went unconscious. As Ansoir crumbled, Brock caught him with his other hand and placed him back in the litter.


    Then he knelt and motioned for Cort and Leira to climb back in.


    ¡°I think you¡¯re wasting your time, Brock, but thanks,¡± Leira said as she pulled herself up into the litter.


    ¡°Fucking dramatic bullshit,¡± Cort muttered as he followed her up. ¡°Can we please just go already?¡±


    Brock started moving back up the tunnel, Kaia smog spewing from his engine. He lumbered along like a moping dog.


    ¡°Faster!¡± Cort barked.


    The Talus hurried up.


    ***


    ¡°Do you build robots?¡± Gwil asked.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°Artificial neurological systems aren¡¯t my area of expertise,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°The Holy Leviathan imports them to us, but Jaqlov only has approval for the lowest level chips. Servant-class, for menial tasks.¡±


    As the trio moved through the mines, Gwil recognized where they were from when he was first brought in. Buzzard¡¯s lab was not too far from the entrance. Maybe he could go out and try to clear the way for everyone.


    ¡°If you¡¯re so smart, you¡¯d build robots,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I know how to assemble them,¡± Buzzard snapped. ¡°I just don¡¯t design the mind chips. Creating artificial life is a waste of time. Unambitious. There are plenty of humans, after all. Heehee.¡±


    ¡°So, you don¡¯t know how to make the brain,¡± Gwil said. ¡°That¡¯s the most important part.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I dunno if assembling them counts,¡± Dwillard chimed in. ¡°I reckon even I could do that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a brain,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°If either of you possessed a modicum of one, you would know that.¡± He blew a raspberry. ¡°Turn here.¡±


    Buzzard led them down a small tunnel that was more like a crack in the wall. It was narrow enough that they had to walk single file.


    Now that he was behind Buzzard, Gwil noticed a bulky object bulging out beneath the doctor¡¯s lab coat. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s that in your shirt?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm?¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Oh, this?¡± He extracted a long, chrome object. The laser gun. ¡°I picked it up after the Megrim Daughter so rudely discarded it.¡±


    ¡°Her name¡¯s Leira,¡± Gwil said. ¡°And I dunno if I should be trusting you with a weapon.¡±


    Buzzard turned¡ªwith some difficulty due to the tight space¡ªto face Gwil. He held out the weapon. ¡°Take it then. But if I may posit an argument.


    ¡°I value my own survival above all else. I¡¯ve thrown my lot in with you and your divine friend. That means it¡¯s advantageous for me to help you. I will be better able to help you if I am armed. Therefore, it benefits you to let me keep the weapon.¡±


    ¡°Makes sense to me,¡± Gwil said.


    Buzzard stared at him, adjusting his goggles, and then proceeded down the passage. When it narrowed to where they had to turn sideways, Buzzard stopped and began feeling around the surface of the wall. His hand disappeared into a cranny.


    With a metallic clang, a door made of false rock opened to reveal another dark passage with small lights on the floor.


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°No one in Podexia knows about these secret passages except for me,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°During an expansion of the mines, I commissioned a network of secret tunnels. Then I, heehee, disposed of everyone who was involved. I always plan for every eventuality.¡±


    ¡°Oh gosh,¡± Dwillard said. ¡°I think my cousin¡¯s cousin was working that job! No one ever saw him again.¡±


    ¡°This is so cool,¡± Gwil said as they went deeper. He had to hunch over to fit, but Buzzard¡¯s short height was perfectly accommodated. Dwillard had to crawl.


    ¡°I concur,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°And thanks to you, it proved necessary. These sorts of things are often built out of deluded vanity. But I¡¯ve always expected Podexia to crumble eventually, so I¡¯ve been prepared to abandon ship.


    ¡°Stondemaier, the poor soul never recovered from the death of his wife. The loss turned him completely erratic. I mean, gods, have you seen his skin? They don¡¯t make an ointment for that. And Sheriff Jackson was there to swoop in like a vulture, which I predicted, I should add.


    ¡°That imbecilic buckaroo is a brute unfit to manage a hot dog cart. He¡¯s even been skimming Kaia from the Leviathan. They¡¯d have killed all of us once they noticed, so perhaps this is for the best.¡±


    Dwillard gasped. ¡°A-are you serious?¡±


    Gwil laughed. ¡°I¡¯m gonna beat the shit out of that guy.¡±


    ¡°Are you?¡± Buzzard said, looking over his shoulder. ¡°He¡¯s quite formidable, and he defeated you quite easily the first time you encountered each other. But I believe you can do it. I would very much enjoy seeing the sheriff lose everything to a bunch of slaves, a scrappy Hallow, and a Megrim Daughter.¡±


    ¡°Why is everyone here so dumb?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°Assuming you mean everyone except for me, which you obviously must, well, I wish I knew. I ask myself that every day.¡±


    ¡°This place is really nice,¡± Gwil said. ¡°The sea, the mountains. You built something amazing. But you¡¯re all so ugly. And you act like animals. Nothing matters except your appetite. But not even animals are so cruel to their own. You¡¯re something lower.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re na?ve,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Ignorant to what drives this World. The strong conquer, and they care nothing for childish ideals.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s strong about being awful and stealing everything?¡±


    ¡°You might be Hallowed, but you¡¯re a peasant at heart,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Stondemaier. Jackson. Maybe you will crush them. That¡¯s all well and good. They are parasites. But what do you know of real power? What do you know of the Leviathan¡¯s Monarchs? The Eschatologists? The Manifest Deities?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re all the same to me,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But you go on making excuses for assholes if you want.¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s secret labyrinth was impressive, full of twists and turns. It seemed like it spanned the entire complex.


    Gwil grabbed Buzzard¡¯s shoulder and wrenched him around. ¡°Wait! Can you get out of the mines through here?¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°Of course you can! What kind of secret tunnel system wouldn¡¯t have a way to actually escape?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t we just sneak everyone out through here? Does it go to the other side of the wall?¡±


    ¡°There is an exit beyond the wall, but, heehee, I think it would be inadvisable. Some two hundred packed into this narrow corridor. It¡¯d take ages to get everyone through, and once the first escapee is spotted, they¡¯d torch the tunnel. The death toll would be catastrophic, even if a few did manage to escape.¡±


    ¡°Damn,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But the three of us could go that way.¡±


    ¡°We absolutely could. To be honest, I was going to ditch you and do that myself. But if you want to come along, you are more than welcome. You didn¡¯t strike me as someone who¡¯d be willing to abandon their cause.¡±


    ¡°Nuh-uh,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Do you think the sheriff is there?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°He has billions of doubloons hanging in the balance. I expect he¡¯s pacing back and forth atop the wall as we speak. Waiting.¡±


    ¡°Good. I¡¯m gonna sneak up and beat his ass before he can get those ropes on me.¡±


    ¡°Are you insane? Heeheehee! You¡¯re just going to walk out there on your own?¡±


    ¡°You said you thought I could beat him,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I did, and I was under the impression that you¡¯d be rushing him with two hundred people you could use as fodder. And that you¡¯d have the Megrim Daughter with you.¡±


    ¡°Well, I won¡¯t be alone,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You guys are coming with me. Use one of your laser guns or something.¡±


    Buzzard had some sort of attack. He huffed for breath and smacked his hands against puffed up cheeks. It lasted for an entire minute.


    ¡°I beg you not to do this. It is suicidal. And murderous, if you force me to accompany you. Sheriff Jackson is a warrior. A stone-cold killer. He will rip you into little pieces. The only chance for you slaves is to storm the wall and run like hell. Most of you will die, but a few might be lucky enough to stumble through the rampant butchery and survive.¡±


    ¡°I promised that not a single slave would die,¡± Gwil said.


    Buzzard fell over.


    ¡°And that cowboy is nothing special,¡± Gwil said, trying to help the doctor back to his feet as the man flailed. ¡°I¡¯ve met a real Hallow before, and Jackson doesn¡¯t compare.¡±


    ¡°I refuse. I refuse to accompany you,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°It¡¯s the same as if you killed me right here, right now.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t get a choice,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯ve been an asshole. Time to make up for it.¡±


    Dwillard thumped a fist against his chest. ¡°I will come with you, Gwil.¡±


    ¡°He already beat you with ease, you imbecile,¡± Buzzard hissed. ¡°Heehee. You¡¯ve only been Hallowed for a short time. Have you even begun to master your Invoke?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Gwil said, nodding. ¡°And it¡¯s hugely powerful.¡±

 Chapter Twenty-Three – Sweet Dreams

    Buzzard sighed with relief as he keyed in a code. ¡°Finally. Back in my sanctuary.¡±


    The door slid open to reveal the lab.


    ¡°Oh, shit!¡±


    A dozen Podexian guards were staring at them. They were huddled on the floor with a big pile of rations between them. A few empty bottles of booze rolled around.


    They¡¯d ransacked the place¡ªall manner of scientific equipment had been toppled and tossed. Shattered glass was scattered everywhere


    Gwil plucked the laser gun out of Buzzard¡¯s hands as the doctor drew it from the back of his shirt.


    Buzzard lifted his goggles onto his forehead and scurried forward as both Gwil and Dwillard tried to hold him back by the tail of his lab coat.


    ¡°You rancid, fucking ingrate heathen shitbitches! I¡¯ll melt your flesh with acid and make you drink the juice!¡±


    Uproar broke out among the guards as they all jumped to their feet, taking up their spears.


    One guard stepped forward with his arms out to block his companions.


    ¡°Easy now, doc,¡± the man said. ¡°It¡¯s all gone tits up.¡±


    ¡°Buzzard¡¯s a traitor!¡± another guard said. ¡°That¡¯s that Hallowed prisoner with him.¡±


    ¡°Is that Dwillard? Fuck you, Dwillard!¡±


    The guard who¡¯d taken the lead said, ¡°Dwillard, weren¡¯t you down in the mines? What¡¯s going on? What happened with the BearTrap-JawMaster 5000?¡±


    Dwillard sputtered.


    ¡°Those guys are all dead,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°WHAAAT!¡± yelled the chorus.


    ¡°Are the prisoners alive?¡±


    ¡°That was damn near all our forces!¡±


    The man who¡¯d said that. His tongue.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Gwil said, stepping toward the guards, which caused them to raise their weapons. Gwil stopped and pointed at the frogman. ¡°Why¡¯d you get such a long tongue?¡±


    The man grinned, let his tongue unroll to the floor, and made it do a wiggly dance. ¡°It¡¯s all about surface area,¡± the man said with a ¡®bleh¡¯ in his voice.


    Gwil laughed. ¡°When I saw that earlier, it made me get my hand cut off.¡±


    ¡°It tends to have that effect,¡± the man said as he slurped the tongue back into his mouth.


    Buzzard shoved past Gwil. ¡°My initial outrage has subsided. As punishment for your crimes, you all have become my direct subordinates. Congratulations on your promotions.¡±


    Dwillard gave the group two thumbs up and a big smile.


    ¡°Weapons down, please,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°We all have work to do.¡±


    Laughter broke out among the guards, and they sat back down and returned to their makeshift feast.


    ¡°Sorry, doc, but we ain¡¯t doin¡¯ shit. Jackson locked us up in the prison. Trapped us and left us to die.¡±


    ¡°Oh gosh,¡± Dwillard murmured.


    ¡°We¡¯re enjoying a brief retirement before we die,¡± a burly woman said to cheers and clinking beer bottles.


    ¡°Why¡¯ve you got that slave with you, doc?¡±


    Buzzard cleared his throat. ¡°Well, you see, after I learned that Jackson betrayed his own men, I decided I couldn¡¯t stand it anymore. I changed sides.¡±


    That brought about some approving muttering, during which Dwillard made to speak and had his toe stomped on by Buzzard.


    ¡°Now, when you say that Jackson locked us in, what exactly do you mean by ¡®locked¡¯?¡± Buzzard said, adjusting his goggles. ¡°Why can¡¯t you just go to the control room and open the damned door?¡±


    ¡°Open the door he says.¡± The guards laughed.


    ¡°The smartest man in Podexia, folks,¡± the woman said, drawing more cheers.


    ¡°You long-armed fuck,¡± a man barked as he got to their feet. ¡°I¡¯ve been in charge of opening and closing that door for five years. No shit, we tried that already. There¡¯s an override or something.¡±


    ¡°Least we¡¯re ridin¡¯ it out with booze and smoked jerky!¡±


    Gwil laughed.


    ¡°Override?¡± Buzzard said. ¡°The system does not have an override. Do you even know what that means?¡±


    ¡°Check for yourself then, doc,¡± the doorman said.


    After muttering to himself for a bit, Buzzard snapped his fingers. ¡°Jackson, that devious, paranoid bastard. He must have installed it without my knowledge. A failsafe.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Gwil said. ¡°You called him stupid earlier, and he tricked you.¡±


    ¡°He did not trick me,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°My escape tunnel preemptively countered his counter years before he even developed it.¡±


    Frenzy took the guards. ¡°What¡¯s this about an escape tunnel?¡±


    ¡°Hey nice,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We can all team up. We¡¯re on our way to fight Jackson.¡±


    ¡°Piss off, slave,¡± one guard said.


    ¡°Shh!¡± Buzzard hissed as he continued muttering to himself. ¡°Mmkay, yes, this is ideal. I needed pack-mules, anyway. All of you are welcome to accompany myself and my assistant and this Hallowed slave into my secret tunnel, through which we can escape beyond the wall.¡±


    A few of the guards closed in around Buzzard. ¡°How about we just cut your head off and use your tunnel ourselves?¡±


    One man reached for Buzzard and Gwil punched him in the sternum. He went flying back, crashing into a shelf whereupon he was buried beneath scientific paraphernalia.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We all wanna get out. They think we¡¯re all dirt. Don¡¯t step on each other.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Buzzard hissed. ¡°This man will kill you all if you don¡¯t obey. He¡¯s more dangerous than Jackson.¡±


    ¡°No, I won¡¯t,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Fightin¡¯ the sheriff? That¡¯s the same as dyin¡¯ and we¡¯d rather die here with our booze and our jerky!¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Booze and jerky!¡± came an answering cheer.


    ¡°Slothful troglodytes!¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°You guys don¡¯t have to fight Jackson,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°They most certainly do,¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°Nah,¡± Gwil said. He moved toward the guards, who backed up while waving their spears at him. ¡°When we get out, you guys can run for it if you want. I don¡¯t care. Just don¡¯t wait here to die for no reason.¡±


    An animated discussion broke out among the guards.


    ¡°What?¡± Buzzard said, turning on Gwil with his long arms waving over his head. ¡°You didn¡¯t give me that choice!¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re worse than them.¡±


    The guard who had been speaking for the group the most said, ¡°Alright. We¡¯re coming with you, but we ain¡¯t fighting.¡±


    ¡°Cool,¡± Gwil said.


    Buzzard tugged at Gwil¡¯s elbow. ¡°At least make them carry my stuff.¡±


    ¡°Alright yeah, you gotta help carry his stuff,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Ooh, doc, do you have any more laser guns?¡±


    ¡°Do you have any idea how rare and expensive atomic precursors are? I¡¯m not made of money! But I do have some other toys, of course.¡±


    Buzzard began issuing erratic instructions in a demented manner. Gwil and the guards started packing up the things he deemed most important. He acted as if he were being forced to choose between his children.


    As they finished up, Buzzard pulled Gwil aside. ¡°Do you understand the ramifications of the door being locked? There is no way out. In order for your enslaved cohorts to escape, you will have to open the door from the outside. You will have to get past the sheriff.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I wanted to do anyway,¡± Gwil said.


    ***


    Standing at the gate of this so-called Sty, Leira could hear the prisoners inside. Hushed and wheezing.


    She jumped out of the litter and looked up at Brock. ¡°Time for you to show some mettle. Bust it down.¡±


    Cort climbed down to stand beside her. The gate was a flimsy thing, designed not for defense, but to corral the weary and weakened. Brock could blast it off its hinges with a single blow.


    Still, Leira was surprised to see the Talus drawing his fist back.


    ¡°Stop! Who goes there?¡± blared an amplified voice from within.


    Brock froze. Cort and Leira looked at each other like two startled rodents.


    Boots scrabbling against stone. Grunts and hushed whispers. And the cacophonous buzzing of poisoned lungs. The sound sent a chill down Leira¡¯s spine.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Cort mouthed.


    She glimpsed a pair of feet beneath the gate. ¡°Two escaped slaves and a Talus,¡± the voice called.


    ¡°Turn back if you value their lives, you filthy animals. We have our spears against their throats. We¡¯ll butcher them all if you so much as touch that gate.¡±


    The lotus petals stirred. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Leira whispered. She waved Brock back and then crept toward the gate.


    Cort grabbed her wrist. ¡°Are you insane? You might not care about them, but I do.¡±


    ¡°No one will die,¡± she sang softly. The petals grew so that they draped over her face like a mask.


    The stone walls, the air itself¡ªeverything turned gossamer as its substance drained. The World before their eyes, as thin as cobwebs.


    Cort¡¯s hand fell away from her wrist.


    Leira cracked her knuckles. ¡°It¡¯s been a while,¡± she breathed, shuddering. Pure bliss radiated through her body. Overwhelming intensity, to the point of pain. It hurt, knowing that such a feeling exists but cannot last.


    Plumes of crimson mist tumbled from her eye, piling up like clouds on the ground before flowing under the gate.


    The Sty fell quiet. The ragged breathing slowed to shallow dribbles. Brock fell over, landing with a crash that should¡¯ve been deafening but was rendered as a dull thump. Even a conjured mind existed under the purview of Megrim.


    Leira stumbled to the gate. She felt so heavy. She did not want to move, to risk disturbing this bleeding euphoria. The flower¡¯s growth blocked her mortal eye, but she did not need to see that mundane composition, for she scried the World to its very heart.


    She let herself fall. Her knees landed hard on the slick stone ground. Limp, she flopped forward onto her stomach, her cheek pressing against the wet grit.


    She saw them all. Skeletons. Ghouls. Men and women. Wreathed in the Megrim flower¡¯s essence. Every eye was trained upon her, blank and witless, like infants. Enthralled. As small as insects.


    The crimson essence flooded the cavern, rising like a tide.


    Her vision went deeper. Beneath the veil. The heap of prisoners, a misshapen mass. The Kaia stained their bodies with blinding radiance. An affront. Something invasive.


    Two castes. The prisoners and the guards. The exploited and the perpetrators. The guards were dark blotches against the light of the Kaia-afflicted.


    ¡°Sweet dreams, fuckers,¡± Leira rasped.


    The spores climbed the legs of the Podexian guards, like ants swarming a piece of food. Crimson smothered their bodies. And then red decayed into mottled black. Weak and worthless hands grasped at masked faces.


    The spores fell away, evaporating like rainwater.


    The guards collapsed. Their bodies were ruined¡ªstiff, withered, skeletal. Their flesh had become something like a mix of treebark and tar.


    So much¡ªeverything¡ªwas ripped away from her. Bile dripped from Leira¡¯s parted lips. Flowers fell from the branches of a great tree, fleeing the vengeful divinity of Mother.


    Our monster, as savage as all the others.


    ¡°Mother, can you hear me? Don¡¯t let Anesidyra take me again. Please.¡±


    Leira sputtered, spitting the crust of dust from her lips. She grimaced as she sat up, then brushed her hands off and stood.


    She went to Cort, nudged him with her foot. His eyes sprang open. He ignored her hand and jumped to his feet.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°I told you I would take care of everything,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°But¨C Is? The guards?¡± he said, gasping.


    Leira gestured toward the gate as excited muttering bubbled up on the other side.


    ¡°Brock,¡± Leira said. The Talus rolled himself up right. Ansoir¡¯s unconscious flopped to the other side of the litter. ¡°Go ahead, bust that shit down.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Cort said. ¡°How?¡±


    Inside the Sty, they were hooting and hollering, stomping around.


    Cort smiled at the same time he palmed his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut and said, ¡°I saw¡­¡±


    ¡°The World¡¯s a big place,¡± Leira said. ¡°You¡¯ll hurt yourself if you think about it too much.¡±


    She turned her back on Cort and started plucking off the overgrown petals. Even as they fell, they withered into dust.


    With one mighty blow, Brock demolished the gate. The prisoners had backed away from the rotten, desiccated corpses, leaving them isolated and exposed in empty pockets.


    Leira knew those men were not dead. However, they would never wake. She would never relinquish them. There existed other hells besides the Nine. Mother possessed one of her own.


    ¡°Incredible,¡± Cort breathed.


    ¡°See? Don¡¯t be so difficult next time,¡± Leira said.


    Cort scoffed. ¡°Excuse me for not considering that you¡­¡± Words failed him, so he waved his hand in the direction of the Sty.


    ¡°Nice one, Brock. Thanks,¡± Leira said.


    They crossed the threshold as the prisoners ran toward them, toward the open gate. Leira smiled. How nice it must¡¯ve been to receive something you¡¯d never dared hope for.


    Her jaw clenched up. She didn¡¯t know how many she¡¯d killed with Buzzard¡¯s laser gun. A lot. So, what¡¯s a few more? These slaves would get their lives back¡ªher debt was paid.


    Well. At least I didn¡¯t need to conduct a Full Blooming.


    ***


    Isca and her comrades had reached the front door of the prison. They¡¯d met no opposition. They¡¯d not even heard any fighting. The Podexian forces were waiting for them outside, then.


    She faced away from the door¡ªit was not for her. She would not pass through.


    Instead, she looked down the tunnel, praying for Gwil and Cort to appear out of the gloom with the other shift in tow.


    Isca stood in the middle of the pack. These were her people. For the past two years, her life intertwined with these fragile souls. So many faces come and gone, all the same.


    She hoped with everything she had that fate would not force her to kill them all. But she could not neglect her duty for the sake of a few mortal lives.


    Not anymore. She¡¯d already waited too long. And now, something was happening. A convergence, blooming out of this wretched place.


    Not one death. Not one death. Gwil¡¯s promise had shaken her to her core. And not only because she was going to break it herself. That hardly counted.


    How could he say such a thing? And with such pleasant assuredness. It was insanity. And in uttering those words, he had forced hope upon her.


    Someone like that was not supposed to exist.


    A woman appeared beside her, calling her name. It was Limmy. Isca blinked at her. Limmy was fiery when she first arrived. She¡¯d broken like all the others, but a spark had been kindled.


    ¡°What¡¯d you say? What is it?¡±


    ¡°The door, Isca. We can¡¯t open it. The keycard is there and everything. But the system is completely shut down.¡±


    ¡°Was the power cut?¡±


    ¡°No. Other things are working. It¡¯s just the door won¡¯t¨C Isca, I think we¡¯re trapped.¡±


    Isca stopped herself from grimacing, kept her voice steady. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Limmy. It¡¯s just a door. We¡¯ll find a way through. But keep it quiet, eh?¡±


    Well, here¡¯s your chance, Gwil. Show me what you are. Show me that I haven¡¯t fallen victim to delusion.


    Isca looked at her hands, at the scripture inked across her palms. Her body cramped up. Her face shook at the tension in her neck. Damn this rotten fucking world!


    She went down on one knee, clawing at the stone with her soft fingers.


    The World turns upon the doctrine of the Legion. Evil dictations, human and vile.


    Fate has been enslaved¡ªit is written on my flesh. Wasted stars, the heavens bleed¡ªit is written on my flesh. The Hells are overflowing¡ªit is written on my flesh. The Mindless One has been ensnared¡ªit is written on my flesh.


    I must return home.


    A cold hand¡ªso feeble that it felt boneless¡ªrested upon her shoulder. She looked up at a weary face.


    Old man Diom. He¡¯d spent twenty years in these mines, twice as long as anyone else had ever lasted. It¡¯d been a long time since Isca heard him speak. Months.


    ¡°Be strong, Isca,¡± Diom croaked. ¡°We need you. We all drink of your will. A storm has come. I saw him¡­ and remembered the rain upon my face.¡± His grip on her shoulder tightened. ¡°I must feel it again.¡±


    Isca stood.

 Chapter Twenty-Four – The Ropes That Bind Us

    Gwil emerged first from Buzzard¡¯s secret tunnel, squinting against the light as he clambered out. The clear blue sky felt oppressive. Burning sunlight beating down¡ªeverything gleamed.


    The exit hatch was embedded in the ground, camouflaged with false rock. Gwil looked around as the rest of the party climbed out after him, grunting and cursing under the burden of Buzzard¡¯s various supplies, artifacts, and instruments. Dwillard had to be shoved through as his cumbersome tube-thing got wedged in the hatchway.


    They found themselves in the base of a ditch with sides steep enough to provide some cover. Gwil crept up the slope, keeping his head low.


    They were in the barren, rocky stretch between the town and the wall, surrounded by the towering heights of the narrowing canyon.


    Some twenty meters ahead, the stone wall loomed, cutting through the sky.


    Gwil¡¯s breath caught as he scanned the top. About thirty Podexian troops manned the wall¡ªless than he¡¯d expected! Two very serious-looking mounted ballistae pointed toward the prison entrance. The rest of the guards paced back and forth. The wall was wide enough that they walked three abreast.


    There, in the center, a black silhouette¡ªthe sheriff, distinguishable by the shape of his hat. He was sitting in a chair with his feet kicked up on a crate or something. Gwil found that annoying.


    ¡°Right, we¡¯re leaving, Buzzard,¡± one of the derelict guards whispered. ¡°What do you want us to do with all this shit?¡±


    ¡°Oh, heehee, perhaps you could help me carry it just a bit further.¡±


    ¡°No chance,¡± the guard said. ¡°Ain¡¯t no way you¡¯re roping us into that.¡±


    As they argued, Gwil kept his eyes on the wall, his grimy hair whipping around. It was a clear day, but windy, and dark clouds threatened from the northern horizon.


    Reaching up with his long arm, Buzzard tugged at Gwil¡¯s pant leg.


    ¡°What¡¯s up, doc?¡± he said without turning around.


    ¡°I fear, in all this commotion, something, heehee, slipped my mind. Heehee. Erm, do you, by chance, know how to obscure your Nirva?¡±


    Gwil looked back at him. The doctor clamped his hands over his mouth.


    ¡°No? What do you mean?¡± Gwil said.


    Buzzard stifled a squeal.


    ¡°What the hell is it, Buzzard?¡± barked one guard.


    ¡°We¡¯re doomed,¡± the doctor squeaked.


    The guard grabbed Buzzard by the collar as Gwil slid back down to the bottom.


    ¡°Jackson knows exactly where we are,¡± Buzzard explained in a quiet murmur. ¡°He must. There is no way that he does not detect Gwilym¡¯s Nirva.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± said everyone.


    ¡°Hey, you probably should¡¯ve thought of that before!¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Oh gosh, boss, that¡¯s real bad,¡± Dwillard said.


    Buzzard extracted himself from the guard¡¯s grip and rammed a finger into Gwil¡¯s chest. ¡°It¡¯s your fault! It¡¯s such a basic skill I never considered that you wouldn¡¯t possess it.¡±


    Gwil scrambled up the wall of the ditch.


    ¡°Shit, boys! What do we do? Should we run?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll never make it.¡±


    ¡°Cool it. We ain¡¯t done nothin¡¯ wrong. The sheriff locked us in outta necessity. We got ourselves out outta necessity. He¡¯ll be happy to have us back.¡±


    ¡°Are you crazy? We¡¯re holed up down here with a goddamn Hallowed slave. He¡¯ll slaughter us.¡±


    Gwil watched the sheriff rise to his feet. He came to stand at the edge of the wall. Sunlight glistened off his gold-toothed grin. He was staring right at them.


    ¡°Shit.¡± Waiting around wasn¡¯t gonna do any good. Gwil climbed out of the ditch.


    ¡°Don¡¯t leave us, Gwil!¡± Dwillard said.


    ¡°What are you doing, fool?¡± Buzzard squawked.


    ¡°Help me out with one of your gizmos,¡± Gwil shouted as he started running.


    Panic took the band of renegade guards. Most of them fled toward the town, but a few ran with Gwil, toward Jackson and the wall.


    Only Dwillard remained in the ditch with Buzzard.


    From atop the wall, Sheriff Jackson raised his hands.


    A field of ropes spawned out of the rocky ground.


    As two of the guards were snared and rooted down, Gwil jumped and kicked at the tendrils.


    An anaconda of a rope spiraled into being, as thick around as Gwil¡¯s neck. He turned sideways to dodge, but the hefty thing whipped into his stomach, clotheslining him.


    Gwil wrapped his arms and legs around it to keep it from coiling around him. The rope was scalding hot, and his body went cold as his Nirva receded, fleeing.


    He let go as the rope lifted him into the air and saw that it was growing. He scrambled across the ground like a crab, flailing to untwist himself from closing knots.


    A desperate gnat in a spider¡¯s web.


    ¡°Argh!¡± He was here to fight, not to die like a fucking bug.


    His Nirva was hiding, nestling itself deep. Submitting. Nuh-uh. That wasn¡¯t okay. He¡¯d force the confrontation.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Gwil stopped trying to fend against the ropes. Instead, he spread his arms wide, grabbing as many of them as he could and hugging them to his chest.


    It was like bathing in a tub full of hot coals, but he only squeezed tighter. If he could just force his Nirva to the fore, focus it, Gwil knew he could overcome the ropes. Just like when he¡¯d driven it into his hand and made it heal faster.


    He must have been screaming, but he couldn¡¯t hear anything over the torrent of blood rushing through his head.


    Fiery Nirva bubbled up and then exploded like a geyser. It surged through his chest, poured down his arms.


    More, more, more. Nothing mattered except eclipsing the Nirva that drove the ropes. Gwil would rather die than learn that his will was weaker than a shithead like the sheriff.


    And to be beaten without even putting up a fight. He could not accept that.


    The ropes spasmed and Gwil thrashed like he was drowning. He lost himself to the dueling tides. He was nothing except his desperate stranglehold. Reduced to a singular purpose¡ªdestroy the ropes.


    Coolness tickled his flesh like misty rainfall. The furious writhing of the ropes abated. They turned stiff, brittle. With one last burst, Gwil crushed the bundle against his chest, and the ropes exploded into ashy dust.


    He threw his head up as if he¡¯d just surfaced from a dive, gasped for breath. Like a river breaking through a dam, Gwil¡¯s Nirva rushed away from where he¡¯d been holding it and spread throughout his body.


    Beneath his feet, the nest of shredded ropes quivered. Only what he¡¯d held in his arms had shattered.


    He thought he understood. The Nirva needed to be focused. Honed. Otherwise, it was frail and thin. And the ropes were made of Nirva, so they must have been chockful of it.


    Gwil took a deep breath and pressed his Nirva down to his feet. It was easier now that he was not tied up. He stomped on the heap of ropes, grinding them into dust beneath his boots.


    Lightheadedness racked through him, as if he¡¯d been hanging upside down. The Nirva broke free of its reins.


    Woozy, Gwil looked up at the wall. Jackson was not even paying attention to him.


    The sheriff jumped off the top of the wall.


    Ropes unfurled from his hands. He swung in a graceful arc and landed softly on the ground.


    Gwil glanced back but could not see into the ditch to know whether Buzzard was still there. What he did see was the three guards that had been running alongside him¡ªall on the ground, hogtied.


    He knew well how much it sucked being hogtied. Gwil drove his Nirva into his fingers. They stiffened and curled into hooks. Claws.


    He went to the nearest guard and ripped apart her bindings¡ªit was the woman who¡¯d been making the others laugh. The knots put up more of a fight than he¡¯d expected. Though this rope was much smaller than the one he¡¯d just tangled with, it was sturdier and denser.


    Gwil wondered¡­ Nirva was fickle. And these constructs were created out of thin air, like magic. It must have been a complex thing, affected by myriad factors.


    Moving to the second guard, Gwil kept his eyes on Jackson. He was not approaching yet. Rather, he was using his ropes to lower a host of his troops to the ground¡ªabout half remained atop the wall. The man¡¯s giant bike, too, was wrapped up in a harness and descending.


    ¡°What are you doing man!¡± the guard cried as Gwil untied him. ¡°Get away! You¡¯re gonna get us killed!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re sticking with Jackson,¡± the third one, still tied, called from a short way away. ¡°No hard feelings, but we gotta save our own skin. You get it.¡±


    Gwil waved him off. ¡°Whatever you want. Good luck.¡±


    That screaming engine roared to life. The sheriff approached on his bike. A chopper, he¡¯d called it.


    Behind him, his officers jogged to keep pace. Since the distance was so short, Jackson just paddled the bike along with his feet rather than actually riding.


    Gwil strode toward them.


    When they were three meters apart, Jackson stopped and bent low over the handlebars to fix Gwil with a glare.


    ¡°You could¡¯ve just walked,¡± Gwil shouted over the chugging engine.


    The sheriff shut off the bike and dismounted. He tipped his hat and said, ¡°Never go anywhere without my chopper, kid.¡±


    ¡°That looked silly though,¡± Gwil said.


    Jangling as he walked, the sheriff came closer. He spat out a slimy wad of chew. ¡°Tell me. Who in the fuck are you?¡±


    Gwil pumped a blink of Nirva into his legs and launched himself. He¡¯d been jumping far with his Nirva before, but now he could really put some force into it.


    Jackson raised a net. Gwil reached out, ripped it apart and flew through, raised his fist-


    The sheriff spawned two ropes and yanked himself out of the way, almost like a sort of dogsled.


    Gwil rolled out of his whiffed attack and popped back onto his feet.


    Jackson grinned. ¡°I ain¡¯t fought properly in years. I¡¯m a bit rusty. Take it easy, wouldja?¡± His hands blurred as a tangle of ropes lashed out to swarm Gwil.


    Gwil swatted the beginning of the assault away but lost his balance and had to jump back from the rest. It was disorienting, sending his Nirva sloshing around through his body. When he put everything in his hands, his legs went sluggish with a sort of drunkenness.


    ¡°Woo!¡± Jackson hollered. ¡°Fresh outta hell, and you fight like this? Not two days ago, a single rope had you whimperin¡¯ like a piggy on its way to the butcher.¡± He laughed. ¡°Oh, to be young again.¡±


    The sheriff¡¯s entourage, who were hanging back, laughed with him and said things like, ¡°Get him, boss.¡± And ¡°Let¡¯s barbeque him like the pig he is.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about them, kid,¡± the sheriff said, looking only at Gwil. ¡°I don¡¯t fight dirty. It¡¯s just you and me. But I¡¯m warmed up now. The gloves are comin¡¯ off. Wanna tell me your name ¡®afore I keel you?¡±


    Gwil ran at the sheriff, his every step feeling thunderous with the infusion of Nirva. He caught the first rope as it swung out to coil around his neck.


    But two more snaked around his ankles. He caught one with a stomp, crushing it. But the other snared his leg and pulled it out from under him.


    Gwil¡¯s hip bounced against the rocky ground as Jackson reeled him in like a fish. ¡°Works every time. Gotta protect your neck.¡±


    Using his other foot, Gwil got some leverage against the tautened rope and ripped his foot free. His boot came off, along with a strip of flesh.


    His hands still occupied with the noose closing around his neck, Gwil pumped Nirva into his spine and rocked himself up onto his feet.


    Then he launched himself like an arrow. The top of his head slammed into Jackson¡¯s nose. Cartlidge crumpled.


    The sheriff staggered back and spawned a mess of ropes, but Gwil stuck right on him, and managed to get in front of the ropes. He headbutted him again.


    Gwil took the moment as they fell to rip the noose off with a flare of Nirva through his hands. The whispering voices flurried with excitement.


    And then they were grappling with each other on the ground.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you fuckin¡¯ dare,¡± Jackson barked at his officers. ¡°Stay the fuck back, all y¡¯all.¡±


    Ropes everywhere. Gwil let his instincts shoot pulses of Nirva at random. The spur on the sheriff¡¯s boot caught him on the side of the head and left him seeing stars and gushing blood.


    But a knee to the gut knocked his wind out. Gwil loosed a sputtering scream as the sheriff grabbed hold of his flayed foot and dug his fingers into the wounds.


    Gwil twisted himself over one of Jackson¡¯s thighs and then grabbed the man¡¯s calf and started bending his knee the wrong way.


    Jackson flew out from under Gwil, yanking himself away. He conjured a few more ropes to lift himself onto his feet like a marionette.


    Gwil stood with his hands on his knees. The tendons in his foot twisted themselves back together. His closing head wound tugged at his hair.


    Jackson took his hat off and held it over his heart, swept his other hand through his sweaty hair. He was breathing hard. Seeing his gray-white hair, Gwil realized the man must¡¯ve been pretty old.


    A soft crack popped out as the sheriff bent his nose back into place. His mustache was all stained with blood. But his lip, which Gwil had busted open with his headbutt, was closing itself up.


    Gwil grimaced. Part of him knew, of course, but maybe he hadn¡¯t properly considered the fact that Jackson could heal himself too.


    ¡°Let¡¯s take a breather,¡± the sheriff said. ¡°But don¡¯t you dare go thinkin¡¯ I need it more than you. This the most fun I¡¯ve had in years. I don¡¯t wanna kill you yet.¡± He packed a wad of chew into his lip, then flashed his golden teeth. ¡°Make me regret my hubris.¡±


    Jackson¡¯s officers got a kick out of that. Gwil spotted Cigar and Toothpick, thanks to their respective accessories. Toothpick swooned at the sheriff¡¯s words.


    ¡°C¡¯mon kid,¡± the sheriff said. ¡°Don¡¯t be so fuckin¡¯ surly. We¡¯re havin¡¯ fun here. You¡¯ve impressed me. Damn near ripped your own foot off the moment we started fightin¡¯. Tell me your name.¡±


    Gwil stared at him, but really looked past him, at the wall. He couldn¡¯t let himself get caught up in this, not yet. He needed to get the door open for the others. Time to come up with a clever plan.


    He spat out some blood and grinned. ¡°I¡¯m Gwil.¡±

 Chapter Twenty-Five – Just a Little Bit

    ¡°Gwil, eh? Short for Gwilliam? Reckon it¡¯d be less stupid if your mama just called you William, but who am I to say?¡± The sheriff tipped his cap. ¡°Theodore Jackson.¡± He pointed to his big silver belt buckle. ¡°Humble sheriff of Chateau Podexia.¡±


    ¡°Not for long,¡± Gwil said.


    Jackson laughed. ¡°You¡¯re something. You don¡¯t even know your Invoke, do ya?¡±


    Gwil smiled. Everyone always going on about that damn thing. ¡°What makes you say that?¡±


    ¡°Heh. Well, for one, you ain¡¯t used it yet, and I coulda killed you if I wanted to, so.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t die so easily.¡±


    Jackson shrugged. ¡°Nirva speaks. Yours is infantile.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m pretending,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°You don¡¯t strike me as the cunning type.¡± The sheriff sat down cross-legged on the dusty ground and gestured for Gwil to do the same.


    He remained standing.


    ¡°Kaia, Kaia, Kaia,¡± Jackson said. ¡°Money, money, money. Makes the World go round. I like you, kid. Comin¡¯ out here to fight me, you cut right to the chase. No bullshit.


    ¡°Grew up poorer than dirt, I bet? Fightin¡¯ for scraps. Hungry for riches. And you aimed for the top right off the bat. That¡¯s proper ambition. You¡¯re someone I¡¯d take under my wing.¡±


    Gwil laughed. ¡°Are you serious?¡±


    ¡°I ain¡¯t get to where I am by letting petty little things like broken noses get in the way of a mutually beneficial arrangement. You want money and power? Work for me.¡±


    Gwil said nothing.


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s a generous offer. Better than you deserve, considering the alternative is death. Maybe I¡¯ve gotten soft. But your goose is cooked. That little uprising you orchestrated is torched and toothless. Over before it began. They ain¡¯t comin¡¯ to help. My Kaia is nice and safe.¡±


    Gwil tilted his head. ¡°You sure?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t play maybes when the stakes are in the billions.¡± Jackson grinned. ¡°We¡¯ve dealt with this shit once before, ¡®bout a decade back. It¡¯s a delicate situation. But I¡¯ve got a trump card. See, they can¡¯t do any real damage without blowing themselves to bits. So all I gotta do is wait. If I send my troops in there, everyone¡¯d get all desperate. They might resort to something drastic, like blowin¡¯ up all the Kaia. We can¡¯t have that.


    ¡°So, I¡¯ll give it a few days. Let it simmer. It''s a siege. Let ¡®em get hungry and tired. Wear their edge down. And then, there won¡¯t hardly be a fight. Might even get to keep most of my slaves. I¡¯ll execute a few for good measure, but.¡±


    ¡°You talk a lot,¡± Gwil said. ¡°And you¡¯re wrong. I don¡¯t care about money or Kaia. I wanna get those people outta the mines and kill you.¡±


    Jackson¡¯s men laughed. But the sheriff grumbled as he got to his feet. ¡°Is that it? You one of those Vermin blowhards or something?¡± He shook his head and lowered the brim of his hat.


    ¡°You¡¯re right. I was wastin¡¯ my time talking. You idealist types don¡¯t change your minds. I guess it¡¯s to the death, then.¡±


    The sun hung high overhead, beating down on the land. Swirls of dust twisted through the air. The Nirva voices were as one with the wind.


    ¡°You¡¯re an asshole,¡± Gwil said. Nirva stole through his legs, and he flung himself at the sheriff. A net shimmered into existence.


    Gwil had aimed low. He dove under the net, sliding on his shoulder. Within reach of the sheriff, he flipped himself around and slammed the bottom of his boot into Jackson¡¯s shin.


    It felt like he¡¯d kicked an iron bar. The sheriff didn¡¯t even flinch. But Gwil felt the bones in his foot crunch apart, and the impact shocked through his leg, jostling the socket in his hip.


    Of its own volition, Nirva flooded Gwil¡¯s leg.


    Jackson stood over him with his hand out. Ropes fell from his palm to snake around Gwil¡¯s wrists and torso. He rose off the ground.


    Jackson spat. ¡°It¡¯s just fuckin¡¯ sad, honestly. Desperation only goes so far, kid. Did you really think you had something on me? Cause you broke a few of my ropes? I was a hundred meters away, and I had other shit on my mind. Now, it¡¯s just you and me, and you got nothin¡¯.¡±


    The ropes disappeared. Gwil fell to the ground, caught himself in a crouch. He stood and shook out his leg.


    ¡°I¡¯ll let you die on your feet,¡± Jackson said.


    ¡°You¡¯re so cool, boss!¡± called Toothpick from the side.


    Gwil thought to try something other than running straight at his enemy. Bare foot scraping against the stone, he dug in to hold his ground and wait for Jackson to make a move.


    What a stupid idea. When was standing around ever worth a damn? Ropes spawned from the ground like nightmarish weeds, groping for his ankles.


    Gwil kicked through them, dashing to the side as the sprouting field gave chase. He pivoted, trying to double back, but one caught his wrist and dragged him to the ground.


    He tumbled as the ropes began flinging him around, tossing him about like a dog playing with a dead bird.


    This was bad. They weren¡¯t even fighting; he was just being toyed with. He needed to get to the wall. If he could at least get the others out.


    But he didn¡¯t get a chance to escape from the wringer. The ropes caught him and lashed him to the ground. A carpet of ropes grew over his body, covering him in a cocoon and pinning him down with such force that it was hard to breathe, let alone move.


    The sheriff moseyed on over and sat down on top of Gwil¡¯s chest.


    ¡°William, William, William,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°I bet a buncha money don¡¯t sound so bad now, does it? Too bad¡ªoffer¡¯s off the table.¡± He squirted some spit out through his teeth. ¡°I thought you were a little bit special, but you just keep doin¡¯ the same sorry shit over and over. Runnin¡¯ at me like a mindless idiot. Folk like you were born to be slaves.¡±


    Pop. Pop.


    Gwil didn¡¯t know how, but he was free. Sitting on top of the ropes.


    Jackson grunted as his ass fell the short distance to the ground.


    A tiny moment of confusion. Gwil captured it. He threw his hands around Jackson¡¯s throat and started squeezing.


    There was some resistance at first. The man¡¯s neck felt as sturdy as a log. But Gwil pumped all his Nirva into his hands and broke through the defense. His fingers crushed soft flesh.


    The sheriff punched Gwil in the stomach. His fist landed like a brick and stole Gwil¡¯s wind.


    He went down on one knee but held fast to Jackson¡¯s throat. As ropes coiled around Gwil¡¯s arms, he threw all his weight into the sheriff, knocking them over.


    Gwil stayed on top, one knee pressing down on Jackson¡¯s chest, the other pinning his right arm.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The man¡¯s face turned purple, splotchy and cracked with broken blood vessels. He gurgled on his drool, sputtering, spraying Gwil with spittle. Tears pooled around bulging, manic eyes.


    Something hard smashed into the side of Gwil¡¯s head. The sound of his skull cracking was terribly loud. And then again. The same sound, but with a squelch added.


    He started shaking, lost control of his arms. Hands went limp. ¡°No,¡± he rasped.


    Through collapsing vision, Gwil saw the sheriff scurry away, clutching at his throat. He heard him hacking and puking.


    Gwil¡­ uh¡­ he couldn¡¯t move so good. The World rocked back and forth. Caris had a rocking chair. His face was all wet. And it was so hot. Damned sunshine. And oh boy, did his head hurt. Pretty sleepy, too¡­


    ¡°Take me back, boss. Please.¡±


    Gwil blinked at the sound of the sniveling voice. Had he been napping at a time like this? He lay in the same position, so it didn¡¯t seem like much time had passed. But everything was blurry, and the sun was too bright.


    ¡°Take you back?¡± The sheriff¡¯s voice. He started laughing, gruff and menacing. It went on for a long time, and none of the others laughed with him.


    All Gwil¡¯s Nirva clustered in the side of his head, burning like a hot iron. His body was all twisted up. He tried moving and flopped himself flat onto his stomach. He brought a hand to his wound. Warm and wet and squishy and rough¡ªbits of gravel were embedded in his flesh. But he didn¡¯t feel any bones.


    ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll take ya back,¡± Jackson said, no longer laughing. ¡°I¡¯d love to take ya back. Why wouldn¡¯t I take ya back? Well, lemme ask ya something.¡±


    ¡°Anything boss,¡± the first voice whimpered. Gwil recognized it as one of those guards from Buzzard¡¯s lab.


    ¡°Did you think I didn¡¯t see it when that kid untied you from my ropes?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask him to do that!¡±


    ¡°I know you didn¡¯t.¡± A sound like a cracking whip, and then a cry of pain. ¡°So lemme get this straight. That kid helped you, his enemy, for no good reason. And you saw fit to smash him in the head with a rock while the two of us were having an honorable duel? Well, I¡¯ll be damned! Who wouldn¡¯t want a guy like you by their side?¡±


    ¡°I did it cause I¡¯m loyal to you, boss,¡± the guard pleaded.


    ¡°Die like a fuckin¡¯ dog,¡± Jackson said.


    Gwil bolted upright at the awful gagging sounds. His head was still swimming, but gently treading water rather than drowning and flailing.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, kid,¡± Jackson said. ¡°I¡¯m makin¡¯ it nice and slow, so he has time to think about what he did.¡±


    Gwil watched the guard choke to death. The man¡¯s hands pawed uselessly at the ropes coiled around his neck. His legs spasmed.


    Gwil hadn¡¯t noticed what an awful way to die that would be while he choked Jackson.


    The sheriff¡¯s officers stood in a row, arms crossed, stoic as statues, all identical with their sunglasses and their tank tops and their buzzcuts.


    When the dying man went still, Gwil made himself stand. As he got up, he spotted the other two guards that had followed him this way. Small in the distance, they were halfway to the town, running like hell.


    The sheriff either didn¡¯t notice or didn¡¯t care. His eyes drilled into Gwil.


    ¡°Sorry ¡®bout that. Tough to find men of integrity these days.¡± The sheriff scooped a fresh wad of chew from his pouch and packed it into his lip. ¡°I bet you¡¯re damned curious if you would¡¯ve had me. I know I am. We¡¯ll never know, thanks to this piece of shit.¡± He kicked the man¡¯s corpse. ¡°That must¡¯ve hurt, havin¡¯ your one chance slip through your fingers. But sometimes that¡¯s just the way she goes.¡±


    Gwil wiped off his face and ran his hand through his hair, breaking apart caked up blood. ¡°I¡¯ll just do it again.¡±


    The sheriff grinned. ¡°Ready?¡±


    Gwil sent a few pulses of Nirva into his head and then gave it a shake. Pretty stable. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°A bleedin¡¯ brain ain¡¯t no excuse,¡± the sheriff said. ¡°You heal up pretty quick, though. You¡¯re lucky¡ªnot everyone¡¯s got it like that.¡±


    Gwil lowered his head and charged. He heard the man scoff as he conjured a bundle of ropes.


    This time Gwil did not try to dodge. Instead, he caught what ropes he could, Nirva surging through his fingers to quell their lashing. He kept sprinting and crashed straight into Jackson, whereupon he slammed his knee into the man¡¯s groin.


    Untangling himself from the writhing bundle, Gwil ran. One bare foot slapping against the rock, he made straight for the wall. It was too sheer to climb, but maybe there was a way through the gate.


    Chancing a glance over his shoulder, Gwil nearly stumbled upon seeing that Jackson was not pursuing. He was just pointing at Gwil and ranting at his officers.


    The Podexians atop the wall had spotted him. One of the mounted ballistae swiveled around. With a sharp twang, the projectile fired.


    Gwil saw how its speed made the air ripple, but to his eye, it moved as slowly as a butterfly. He veered to the side as the javelin impaled the ground a few paces away.


    Gwil made it to the foot of the wall and then turned to run alongside it. The gate was not too far.


    And he was zooming. Feet skimming over the ground, it felt like he could¡¯ve run on water. His Nirva felt bound to his heavy breaths, pumping perfectly with the motions of his sprint, bouncing from leg to leg, arm to arm.


    The roaring scream of Jackson¡¯s chopper crashed through Gwil¡¯s trance. Looking to the side, Gwil saw the sheriff racing toward him, trailed by billowing black smog.


    Gwil grinned. He couldn¡¯t beat that bike to the gate. But maybe he could smash it up.


    He faced forward and kept sprinting, feigning that he intended to run for it.


    The wailing engine grew louder. Gwil could feel the chugging reverberations in his bones. The sheriff was coming at him from behind, at an off angle. One more second.


    Gwil broke off from the wall, pivoting around as he slid to a halt. And then he flooded his legs with Nirva and launched himself.


    The engine went silent, and then came a squeal. Jackson swung the back wheel out. At the same time, he conjured a web of ropes. Some wrapped around his body, lifting him off the seat, carrying him away.


    The rest wrapped around the bike, using its momentum to whip it through the air.


    Gwil smashed into the metal monstrosity. The arm that he¡¯d raised against the crash snapped like a twig. A spike-ended handlebar speared him through the stomach, and a foot pedal ripped out a chunk of his thigh.


    Blood gurgled from his mouth as he lay on the ground, mangled, pinned beneath the hulking bike.


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ disgraceful,¡± Jackson said, appearing above Gwil. ¡°Getting between a man and his chopper. You¡¯re the lowest of the low. And a fucking coward to boot. Running from a duel. After I showed you such respect.¡± He spat on Gwil¡¯s face.


    The sheriff picked his bike up¡ªpeeling away some parts of Gwil with it¡ªand then walked it a few paces away.


    Gwil lifted his head to look at the spaghetti-mess of his stomach. Looked like some organs were mixed in with the shredded tissue and tattered strips of cloth. Not good.


    His breaths came quick and shallow, sparse. Gwil hoped his Nirva was working on his wounds, but he couldn¡¯t feel much of anything. His intestine squirmed like a big worm. But he didn¡¯t know if that meant it was healing, or if it always did that. He¡¯d never seen it before.


    ¡°Your fuckin¡¯ blood and guts are all over it!¡± Jackson barked. The sheriff began muttering in a sort of cooing voice as he attended to his chopper, wiping it down with a handkerchief.


    Gwil¡¯s eyes closed as he watched. And then flickered open at a weight on his chest. The sheriff¡¯s boot. He felt his ribs crumple. He gagged on a spurt of blood that oozed up his throat.


    He could feel his Nirva now. Sputtering. Petrified. Not good.


    Jackson was still talking, but Gwil couldn¡¯t make out any words. His ears felt full of fluid. He tried to get out from under the sheriff¡¯s boot, but his head just flopped over to face the other way. His eyes saw nothing except the wall.


    He clawed at the ground. The gate. If he could just get to the gate.


    Jackson bent over to get in Gwil¡¯s face. ¡°Look at me when I¡¯m fuckin¡¯ talking to you.¡±


    Gwil spat blood into the man¡¯s face, earning himself a stomp on his minced abdomen.


    ¡°You¡¯re dead. Was it worth it?¡±


    ¡°Not¡­ yet¡­¡±


    ¡°Get over here, fellas,¡± Jackson called. ¡°This should be a hoot.¡±


    Gwil closed his eyes and tried to force his Nirva into his stomach. His innards were writhing a lot. He took it as a good sign. Everything was all sticky and hot and gross.


    ¡°You act like an animal,¡± Jackson said, ¡°you get put the fuck down like an animal.¡±


    ¡°Everyone¡­ goes free,¡± Gwil rasped. His voice was high and wheezy, like a sick kitten.


    ¡°The fuck did you say?¡±


    ¡°Not one death.¡±


    Jackson turned away to look over his shoulder. ¡°How should I do it, boys? I¡¯m open to suggestions.¡±


    ¡°Tie him to your bike and drag him around!¡±


    ¡°Hogtie him and hang him in the throne room like a chandelier while he bleeds out.¡±


    The gate. I can crawl away. But his eyes wouldn¡¯t open. The darkness flared with the sun¡¯s brightness. Maybe the bike. He¡¯ll freak out if I knock it over.


    ¡°Good ideas, all good ideas,¡± Jackson said, fingering his blood-soaked mustache. ¡°He did scuff up my chopper. That¡¯s unforgiveable. But I can¡¯t help respecting the kid a bit. He¡¯s just so¡­¡± Gwil heard snapping fingers.


    ¡°Audacious,¡± a voice said.


    ¡°Aye. That¡¯s it, Toothpick. Good vocabulary. I¡¯m impressed. I didn¡¯t even know you could read.¡± Jackson twisted his heel into Gwil¡¯s stomach. The sound was nasty, but it didn¡¯t hurt. ¡°You¡¯re audacious, kid. You did piss me off, but I know you were just trying to survive and thrive in our messed up World. I won¡¯t torture you. I¡¯ll just kill you.¡±


    Gwil¡¯s eyes opened. ¡°No.¡±


    Jackson laughed. ¡°Die beneath my boot.¡± He raised his foot. The spur jangled.


    Pop.


    Gwil threw himself into a roll.


    The boot crunched down on nothing but gravel.


    ¡°Where the fuck did you go?¡± Jackson said. ¡°Ain¡¯t no way he held onto a trick for this long. Ain¡¯t no way.¡± He raised his voice. ¡°Fan out, boys. Keep your wits about you. I dunno¡­¡±


    He¡¯d gotten away! Gwil covered his mouth to keep from laughing¡ªthe convulsions hurt his stomach. He couldn¡¯t believe it. He was sure he was dead, but he¡¯d scurried away and made it behind an enormous boulder. Jackson must have been a blind idiot or something.


    The ground quaked, jostling Gwil¡¯s mangled body. Less amused now, he took his hands away from his face and pressed them over his wounds to keep anything important from spilling out.


    A huge dust storm had stirred up. Good. That must have been keeping him hidden from the sheriff and his prowling men.


    Gwil could see them looming above, as big as giants. Or maybe he was looking at them through a telescope? Ah! He must have borrowed Buzzard¡¯s goggles. Gwil giggled.


    His eyes closed from the pain of laughing and they were way too heavy to open again.

 Chapter Twenty-Six – I Did It for You

    Doctor Buzzard sighed. ¡°Well, Dwillard, to the surprise of no one, it is up to me to save the day. Everything always falls upon the smartest person in the proverbial room. I would say you¡¯d do well to remember that, but I fear it will never apply to you.¡±


    He and Dwillard crouched beside each other, peering over the lip of the ditch. That oaf¡¯s knees were shaking, knocking together and producing a hollow, and very distracting sound, which Buzzard suspected would perfectly match the empty resonance that would sound if he knocked on the man¡¯s skull.


    How, oh how, have I ended up mired in these dismal circumstances? Stuck here with just this idiot for company. At least Dwillard had displayed some loyalty. That was more than Buzzard could say for the other renegade guards.


    Though perhaps those imbeciles had played their cards well. It looked like they might survive, or at least make it to the town, thanks to Gwilym distracting the sheriff. Well, all of them except the man that Jackson had just killed, of course.


    This Gwilym Oubliette had exceeded Buzzard¡¯s expectations, albeit not in a conventional sense. The young man just fought with such deranged determination that Jackson seemed thrown off-balance.


    That was before a bout of ill-conceived idiocy commandeered Gwilym¡¯s mind. Only a fool of the absolute highest order would¡¯ve thrown themselves at so monstrous a machine as Jackson¡¯s chopper.


    Alas, the boy was doomed. Too bad. Too bad, he was an interesting one. More pressing was that Buzzard¡¯s subordinates had abandoned him. And he needed some mule-folk to help transport his things. He had a lot of important items that he would not leave behind. Time to take matters into my own very capable hands.


    ¡°Dwillard,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Have you ever flown with a jetpack?¡±


    ¡°N-no,¡± Dwillard whimpered.


    ¡°Heehee. Are you crying?¡±


    ¡°N-no,¡± Dwillard said, wiping tears and snot on his sleeve. ¡°I just¨C Isn¡¯t there any way we can help Gwil? He¡¯s a nice guy. He saved my life.¡±


    Buzzard glanced up. Gwilym had been gutted like a fish and Jackson had his boot on his chest. ¡°Unfortunately, his book is on its last page. He will be dead any second now.¡±


    Dwillard sobbed. ¡°I just wish the fellas would¡¯ve recognized that Gwil cared about us more than Jackson ever did. And now he¡¯s dead!¡± he wailed.


    ¡°Pull yourself together,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°You can still save me. And you can do something that would make Gwilym very proud of you.¡± Buzzard clambered down to the base of the ditch and began rifling through his pile of possessions.


    ¡°Aha!¡± He extracted the jetpack he¡¯d built a few years ago. A large, blockish backpack with a rocket-shaped engine. ¡°Now, look here, Dwillard. A jetpack is deceptively simple to operate, though it requires a deft hand.¡±


    ¡°W-what¡¯d you want me to do, doc?¡± Dwillard said.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to fly over the wall, open the door, and release all the prisoners. In doing so, you will fulfill Gwilym¡¯s dying wish.¡±


    Dwillard stiffened his jaw. ¡°But what about the override?¡±


    ¡°Fool! It obviously still opens from the outside. How else would they ever get back inside themselves?¡±


    Before Dwillard could continue driveling, Buzzard spun him around and started strapping on the jetpack. Then he spun the buffoon around again, so they faced each other.


    ¡°Now, listen carefully. You have these two handles.¡± He placed Dwillard¡¯s hands on the grips. ¡°Feel the triggers? Yes, good. They¡¯re pressure sensitive. The left one¡ªthat is your left¡ªwill control your vertical thrust. And the right¡ªyour right¡ªwill control the horizontal.¡±


    ¡°Oh gosh, doc,¡± Dwillard said.


    ¡°I¡¯m not done. The right stick has two buttons on the top. One will lock in your altitude. The other will initiate a controlled descent. Obviously, that should only be done once you¡¯re above the control panel for the prison¡¯s door.¡±


    ¡°I think I get it,¡± Dwillard said.


    ¡°I¡¯m still not done! I haven¡¯t told you how to steer. However, it¡¯s simple, because I designed it so brilliantly. Both your pitch and yaw are controlled by the left stick, which affords you with full axial movement.¡±


    Dwillard said nothing. Finally, he was learning.


    ¡°Now, I advise you to fly very high above the wall so that you don¡¯t get impaled by ballista fire. Hopefully they don¡¯t spot you while you ascend, but there¡¯s not much we can do about that. Okay, I¡¯m done.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± Dwillard said. ¡°But how do I turn it on?¡±


    ¡°Feel along the bottom there. Yes, there¡¯s a pull cord. Pull it.¡±


    Dwillard¡¯s scream was cut off, at least to Buzzard¡¯s ears, as he rocketed skyward, sputtering, jerking, careening every which way.


    Buzzard took a whiff of the exhausted Kaia smog and licked his lips while glaring up at his fumbling assistant. Eventually, Dwillard stabilized and began making forward progress. He¡¯d gone plenty high enough, at least. Heehee.


    Buzzard knew that Dwillard would succeed. He would not have chosen a failure as an assistant. And the jetpack was nothing short of perfect.


    There we have it. The prisoners would go running free. Most of them would be killed by Jackson, but Buzzard would secure a few and they could carry his stuff while he orchestrated a grand escape. Where¡¯s my radio transmitter? He needed to get in touch with dear Adeline. Ah, but first¡­


    He returned to the crest of the ditch. There was Gwilym, lying in a pool of his own blood. Still alive! And the sheriff, oh, was he raising his boot? It looked like Buzzard was just in time. Goodbye, lad.


    And then Gwilym disappeared.


    Buzzard gasped and cranked up the zoom on his goggles.


    ¡°Heeheehee! I¡¯ll be damned!¡±


    The doctor pulled his Erithist needlegun from the holster on his belt and took aim. It was a spur of the moment thing. Call it a scientist¡¯s intuition. ¡°Alright, Gwilym, I¡¯m betting everything on you.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Keeping your cards close to the very end,¡± Jackson said. ¡°I respect it.¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    The sheriff prowled, knees bent, head bobbing like a reptile. Ready. His men had fanned out around him.


    ¡°What is it? Teleportation? Invisibility?¡± Jackson muttered, half to himself, half to his prey.


    ***


    Gwil felt so cozy lying on the sunbaked rock. Better than a bundle of blankets beside the fire in the dead of winter. The Nirva voices were clamoring, but Gwil was getting better at ignoring them.


    Jackson and his officers babbled at each other as they stomped around. Hearing their frustration, Gwil smiled to himself. They couldn¡¯t find him. His hiding place was too good. He had time.


    His stomach was healing, but he¡¯d had to rip his hand out after it got embedded in the newly grown flesh. That had been a painful setback.


    His ribs had put themselves back together, but not quite right, leaving his chest lumpy and malformed.


    Looking up at the sky, Gwil thought he saw a man flying high overhead. But no, just a bird.


    An ear-splitting crack made him flail. The boulder that he¡¯d been hiding behind¡ªa huge silver spear had impaled it!


    At first, Gwil thought that maybe the ballista atop the wall had fired at the bird, and that the projectile had coincidentally landed right next to him. But no, that wasn¡¯t¡­


    Looking at the spear now, Gwil saw it was actually tiny. No bigger than a sewing needle. And the boulder had disappeared? He was exposed, laying right out in the open. What is going on!


    The needle¡¯s luster captivated his eye. He¡¯d seen it once before. Its ethereal quality could not be mistaken. Erithist. The substance that deadened Nirva.


    ¡°I found him! Boss! Boss! He¡¯s right here!¡± a voice shouted from a few paces away.


    Gwil turned toward the horde of stomping, scraping boots.


    ¡°How the hell?¡± Jackson barked.


    As he made to dash away, Gwil plucked the Erithist needle from the little stone that it was stuck in and closed his fist around it. The needle was so heavy.


    He made it three steps before vomiting and collapsing on the ground.


    Ah! I poisoned myself. Face down in the dirt, Gwil smiled. This would be even better.


    Jangling spurs marked Jackson¡¯s approach. ¡°Nice trick. But too late. You¡¯re outta fuel.¡±


    Gwil writhed on the ground but did not lift his head.


    ¡°I got a real good look at your organs earlier.¡± He kicked Gwil in the ribs.


    Gwil blew a raspberry, his tongue flapping against the dusty ground.


    ¡°Look me in the eye while I kill you.¡± Jackson grabbed a fistful of Gwil¡¯s hair and lifted him up.


    Gwil¡¯s arm shot out to ram the Erithist needle into Jackson¡¯s neck. A rope appeared from nothing and snagged Gwil around the wrist, diverting his thrust into the sheriff¡¯s bare bicep.


    The rope disintegrated in that instant. Jackson fell to his knees, retching.


    His own sickness from touching the Erithist abated, Gwil tackled the sheriff to the ground, planted his knees on the man¡¯s chest. Jackson groped for the needle, but Gwil pinned his arm and then smacked the top end of the needle with his palm to drive it deeper.


    Gwil flooded his fist with Nirva and cracked the sheriff on his quivering jaw.


    Again. And again. Gwil laughed at the popping sounds as the jaw bounced from side to side. With every blow, more blood speckled them both. Three golden teeth popped out.


    Jackson¡¯s eyes rolled back into his skull. From the vicious beating and the voracious Erithist, he began to seize and foam at the mouth.


    A charging horde of bodies and spears slammed into Gwil, stabbing at him, wrapping him up in their arms, shoving him, grubby hands scratching at his face. A spear glanced off his ribs, and another nicked his shoulder.


    Gwil swung his arm out and sent three of them flying back. He kicked another in the knee. With his other arm, he continued to beat on the sheriff¡¯s face.


    But more than a dozen of Jackson¡¯s officers assailed him, and eventually they threw him off their boss and buried him at the bottom of a dog pile.


    With a swell of Nirva, Gwil flailed his way out of the pile. Cigar rushed Gwil with his spear. Gwil caught the man by the wrist and then snapped it with a chop from his other hand.


    He shoved Cigar away as the officers formed a blockade between Gwil and Jackson. A few attended to the sheriff.


    Gwil caught the glint of the Erithist needle pinched between the fingers of one of the men.


    ¡°Dirty fuckin¡¯ trick,¡± Jackson barked. His face was a lumpy mess of red and purple, but already the swollen flesh was writhing.


    Gwil stood, clutching at his abdomen. Some damage inside his guts had gotten reaggravated while he was in the pile. Bile burned in his throat.


    He hawked and spat. He had to finish this now, before Jackson healed. He wasn¡¯t gonna get a better chance.


    Crunch! The sound was loud and sickening. They all turned their heads - in time to see the second man fall from the top of the wall and splatter on the ground.


    A song filled the air.


    On the other side of the wall, two hundred voices cried out in primal chorus. Sunlight kissed their skin. Clean air blossomed in their lungs.


    ***


    Dwillard touched down next to the door, as gracefully as a butterfly.


    ¡°Oh boy, oh boy,¡± he said, voice thin with relief. Every single muscle in his body had been clenched to the breaking point as he soared hundreds of meters above the ground.


    Dwillard pumped his fists. The doc was right! The jetpack was amazing!


    He clasped his shaking hands. Sorry you don¡¯t get to see this, Gwil. The former prison guard reached for the lever beside the door and pulled it.


    ¡°Wahoo!¡± Dwillard screamed as the heavy prison door groaned open.


    The raw ecstasy in those roaring voices drove Dwillard to his knees. He started crying. That huge, scary redheaded guy came running out first. And then they all poured forth¡ªmen and women who Dwillard had abused with his own two hands.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡± he wailed as the mob rushed past him. No one spared him a glance.


    He pressed his forehead to the ground. ¡°Can you see this from down there, Gwil? I did it for you! I¡¯m terrified of heights!¡±


    ***


    Cort, a spear in each hand, was the first out. He had the layout of this courtyard¡ªand the wall¡¯s defenses¡ªseared into his mind. Through all those hours toiling in the mines, he¡¯d been visualizing this moment. His pathing was automatic, as if he¡¯d rehearsed it a thousand times.


    He turned sideways, skip-hopped, and hurled the first spear.


    The first ballista operator was impaled before he¡¯d even turned around.


    The second at least got his hands on the weapon¡¯s crank. They both toppled over the other side of the wall.


    Cort flashed a thumbs up.


    The freed prisoners surged past him as he scanned the wall. About a dozen Podexians remained up top. Frozen, aghast, faces warped by jaws that were so dropped they defied anatomical limits.


    Limmy stood next to Cort with a bundle of spears in her arms. He took two and waited for another guard to attempt to man the ballista.


    That did not happen. Instead, moving as one, the guards all turned and ran, hightailing it along the wall¡¯s length, heading for the manor that stood on its far end.


    Brock clattered past, bearing Leira (asleep) and Ansoir (unconscious) in his litter.


    Cort turned. There stood Isca, alone at the prison¡¯s threshold. He had never seen her with such a bright, genuine smile. The crinkles on her face warped her tattoos. It made him happy and sad and terrified all at once.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± he barked.


    She shook her head. ¡°You know I can¡¯t. I told you what I would do.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re crazy if you think I¡¯m gonna let you do that!¡± He shook his head. ¡°They¡¯ve abandoned the wall. We don¡¯t need to do it. We¡¯re gonna go right through. We¡¯re free. Don¡¯t!¡±


    She tilted her head. ¡°I¡¯m not sacrificing myself, I promise.¡± Something was wrong with her voice. It was too soft.


    ¡°Damn right you¡¯re not.¡±


    He made to grab her, but she said, ¡°Don¡¯t you trust me, Cort?¡± and he stopped.


    ¡°Not right now I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I must destroy this poisoned place. Excision is required. It¡¯s not something that you can understand, so you just have to trust me.¡±


    ¡°Fuck that. I¡¯m not gonna let you kill yourself for whatever bullshit you¡¯re wrapped up in. I thought you hated all that stuff anyway.¡±


    ¡°I promised you I won¡¯t die. And I can make another promise, too. We¡¯ll see each other again.¡±


    He couldn¡¯t make himself speak. It felt like his tongue was trying to crawl down his throat.


    ¡°If you care about me, let me go,¡± Isca said. She smiled again. ¡°Just come and find me after.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡±


    She laughed, and it sounded like music. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to say, right? I¡¯ll know when you all get clear, so don¡¯t worry about that. Cort, I have to go. I¡¯m sorry. But listen. I think Gwil and Leira are special. Please go with them. Bind your life to theirs.¡±


    ¡°What? Isca-¡±


    She took a tiny step over the threshold and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. ¡°Go. They need you. The fighting isn¡¯t over. And Cort¡­ it will never end, not until the last star falls.¡±


    With that, Isca reentered the prison. She did not look back.


    The gloom swallowed her, and Cort wanted to vomit.


    He could just follow her inside and drag her out. But¡­ why couldn¡¯t he do it? Dammit, why couldn¡¯t he follow her?


    Such deep conviction in her voice. It would¡¯ve been blasphemous to defy her wishes. Like trapping a bird in a cage.


    No matter how desperately he wanted, Cort could not get himself to follow her. All he could do was wonder at the scripture written across her flesh. She all but said it¡ªshe was forced to do this.


    Jaw clenched, Cort turned and dragged his heavy feet toward his comrades. They¡¯d reached the foot of the wall. Hundreds of fists pounded against the metal gate, underscoring their rabid screams. That¡¯s right. Bang the war drums.

 Chapter Twenty-Seven – Without a Trace

    Gwil was in hysterics. His enemies were pissing themselves. Jackson was feral with rage, screaming and cursing like the village lunatic on a particularly horrific night.


    Despite the ¡ª from their perspective ¡ª calamitous turn of events, the Podexians still held their ground with spears aloft, protecting their boss.


    Gwil didn¡¯t mind taking a breather. Things felt a bit¡­ loose and wriggly in his guts, and his fit of laughter had made it worse. But he couldn¡¯t help it. They¡¯re free!


    Nirva burned in his stomach, stitching things back together. But the rest of him felt frail and battered in its absence.


    ¡°Ha! You¡¯re done for,¡± Gwil said.


    Jackson fell silent. The echoes of his deranged screams lingered as he lowered his hat. His cheeks puffed out like a squirrel, partly because of the swelling, and partly because of the huge wads of tobacco he¡¯d stuffed into his mouth.


    The sheriff dashed toward his chopper.


    ¡°Hey! Where do you think you¡¯re going?¡± Gwil yelled.


    Heedless, he threw himself into the wall of spears. The guards pushed back. Gwil disarmed a couple, threw a few punches. But his injuries were taxing, and his Nirva faltered. He was forced to back away.


    Jackson had mounted his bike and fired up the engine. Rancid Kaia smog belched out the exhaust. Gwil felt nauseous and shivery from the smell.


    With a spray of dust and smoke, the sheriff peeled out. Gwil backpedaled, intending to run around the guards and give chase. He wouldn¡¯t let that bastard touch the prisoners.


    But it turned out that was not the sheriff¡¯s intent. Jackson blew right past the gate and then veered out, making a beeline for a very solid-looking section of the stone wall.


    Gwil gasped. The sheriff was going to crash!


    An array of ropes flew out of Jackson¡¯s hands, reaching all the way to the top of the wall. The bike tilted back onto its rear wheel.


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil yelled.


    Jackson drove his chopper straight up the sheer, vertical face of the wall. No wonder he loved that bike so much.


    Gwil watched in awe as Jackson escaped and forgot to be mad about it.


    The chopper reached the top. The roar of the engine faded as Jackson raced along the wall, heading for the manor.


    Gwil cracked his knuckles. ¡°Good. He¡¯s going home. I hope he knows we¡¯re not done.¡±


    Gwil looked back at the shell-shocked guards beside him. Spears at the ready, they backed away slowly.


    ¡°Aw, he left you all behind. Cigar! Toothpick! I didn¡¯t get a chance to say hi. Glad to see you woke up.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t come any closer,¡± Cigar said. ¡°This is a strategic retreat.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re smart,¡± Toothpick said, ¡°you¡¯ll take this gift from the sheriff and run as far as you can.¡±


    As Gwil strode toward them, one guard tripped and fell on his ass.


    ¡°I could kill all of you right now,¡± Gwil said, smiling. ¡°But I won¡¯t. Go. Tell him we¡¯re coming to take everything. You all get to watch.¡±


    Rapturous screams signaled the opening of the gate.


    ¡°You should run,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I think they¡¯re angry.¡±


    The sheriff¡¯s officers ran. Gwil wondered why they made for the town rather than following Jackson, but then he realized they had no way to get up the wall. Idiots.


    And then he ran too, with his innards sloshing around and his misshapen ribs crunching together, Gwil ran toward the surging tide of freed prisoners.


    He allowed himself to be swept up. Their eyes glittered, and their smiles were wild. But their lungs still buzzed like a thousand flies.


    As they spread across the rocky expanse, a visible timidity held them. It was as if they did not believe it. As if with every footfall, they feared a plummet. That they¡¯d be torn away from this dream.


    Gwil spotted Brock, who was hard to miss, and made his way to him through the throng.


    Cort was there. Gwil ran up and threw his arms around him, which the man tolerated for longer than Gwil expected.


    ¡°We did it,¡± Cort said.


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°He got away.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°The sheriff.¡± Gwil pointed up toward the manor. ¡°And the Burgermaster is in there. Freeing the slaves is not enough.¡±


    Cort stared at him.


    ¡°We need to crush them. Or they¡¯ll just do it again, won¡¯t they?¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Cort sighed. ¡°Yeah¡­ I guess you¡¯re right.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s Leira?¡± Gwil asked.


    Cort pointed up at Brock. ¡°Sleeping.¡±


    ¡°Sleeping?¡± Gwil said as he climbed up Brock¡¯s body.


    ¡°Hey, I think she needs the rest,¡± Cort said. ¡°She did something crazy with that flower.¡±


    The blonde afro guy sat slumped in the chair next to her, with a big, angry welt on his forehead.


    Gwil grabbed Leira¡¯s shoulders and gave her a little shake.


    ¡°Wuh,¡± Leira groaned as her eyelid fluttered. ¡°Gwil! What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°Everyone¡¯s out,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Now we¡¯re gonna take the fight to them.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± She rubbed at her eye and then stretched. ¡°Fucking hell. I can¡¯t believe I fell asleep. I feel like shit. Help me down.¡±


    ¡°What happened to your eyeflower?¡± Gwil asked as he guided Leira down to the ground. The petals were all small and stunted, clustered up like a bud.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± she said as she looked around at the carousing mob. Her eyes lingered on the town. ¡°So, it¡¯s done? We can just run for it?¡±


    ¡°No way,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I¡¯m not done. I need to finish off the sheriff.¡±


    ¡°You fought him?¡± Leira said. ¡°Shit, you look terrible!¡± She grabbed his chin and twisted him around to check his injuries.


    ¡°You do look like a giant wound,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°I was this close¡­¡± Gwil held up two fingers to indicate a microscopic amount, ¡°¡­to winning.¡±


    ¡°Gwil, don¡¯t. This is enough. You can¡¯t force these people to fight. Look at them.¡±


    ¡°Huh? That¡¯s the last thing I want. They should all run away.¡±


    ¡°I think he¡¯s right,¡± Cort said. ¡°If we don¡¯t cut the head off, they¡¯ll be dogging us wherever we go. But listen. There¡¯s no time for a committee right now. We need to get everyone as far away from the wall as possible.¡± He pointed toward the border of the town. ¡°I think that little cove in the cliffside is our best bet.¡±


    ¡°What? Why?¡±


    Cort took a deep breath. ¡°Isca stayed behind. She¡¯s gonna blow up the Kaia.¡±


    Gwil punched him hard in the shoulder. Cort staggered but did not react otherwise.


    Leira shoved Gwil out of her way. ¡°You left her alone to do that!¡± she shrieked. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you? I thought you were alright. Why didn¡¯t you go with her?¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Cort snarled. ¡°Both of you. You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. She¡­ promised me she¡¯d be fine.¡±


    ¡°Oh okay,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You should¡¯ve said before.¡±


    Leira grunted.


    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t lie about that,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cort said, nodding. ¡°She wouldn¡¯t. And she wasn¡¯t lying about blowing that mountain to hell either. We need to get everyone clear. Let¡¯s move.¡± He marched away.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Leira said. ¡°This is a terrible idea. We gotta stop her.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t,¡± Cort said. ¡°She needs to do this.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand,¡± Leira said. ¡°The Leviathan will-¡±


    ¡°I trust her,¡± Cort said. ¡°Hurry up, I don¡¯t wanna leave her stewing in her decision.¡± He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, ¡°Yo, everyone!¡±


    ***


    The mob huddled into the cove and waited with bated breath. Some stood at the edge, staring toward the wall.


    Tears fell for Isca.


    Word had spread of what was to come. Cort¡¯s assurances fell on deaf ears. For these beleaguered people, such a fanciful hope would not come easy.


    They waited.


    A disturbance rippled through the tense silence. Two figures approached. Anger flared up in the mob.


    ¡°Way to go, doc!¡± Gwil shouted. ¡°Calm down, you all. Buzzard is with us.¡±


    Buzzard and Dwillard hurried over to him and the mob settled, albeit with some reluctance.


    ¡°Heehee. Yes, yes,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Gods, you nearly gave me a heart attack when you touched the Erithist with your bare hand! I didn¡¯t think you capable of such a brilliant ruse!¡±


    ¡°Ohhh,¡± Gwil said. ¡°That was you who shot the needle?¡±


    ¡°What? Of course it was me, you idiot!¡± He threw his long arms up. ¡°What did you think happened?¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°I thought it just fell out of the sky or something. Wow! You saved me. You saved everyone, doc!¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s blue cheeks blushed pink. ¡°Well, I-¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Cort said. ¡°This asshole helped you?¡±


    ¡°Heehee. Gwilym had one foot in hell. He would not be here without me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Tell me, Gwilym, did you know you could do that? Or was it drawn out by duress?¡±


    ¡°Do what? I knew I could beat him,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I-¡±


    Dwillard fell to his knees and threw his arms around Gwil¡¯s legs. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re alive!¡± he wailed.


    ¡°Ahhh! I get it!¡± Gwil said. ¡°Dwillard, get up! You opened the door, right? I saw you flying! So cool!¡±


    Instead of standing up, Dwillard flopped over onto his side.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind him,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°More importantly, why have you all congregated here? Shouldn¡¯t you be running away or something?¡±


    ¡°Your precious Kaia mine is about to be blown to shit,¡± Cort said.


    Buzzard gaped and then rubbed his hands together. ¡°Heehee, really? How sinfully delightful!¡±


    ¡°I thought you¡¯d be mad, doc,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Mad? This is an incredibly rare thing I get to witness. It¡¯s not often that someone is willing to destroy such a large quantity of such an invaluable resource. I have severed ties with Podexia. I was leaving the Kaia behind, anyway.


    ¡°No, this is spectacular. It will surely be one of the biggest Kaia-related incidents to ever grace the World. I¡¯m so excited to see the effects. When will it happen? I wonder if we¡¯re far enough away¡­¡±


    Leira twirled a finger around her ear.


    ***


    Leira wanted to stop this. Needed to stop this. The Leviathan would be aware. But she found her tongue knotted by something, something familiar and unpleasant. Reverence.


    Isca¡¯s tattoos were not just a sexy look, then. She was someone of power. Real power. The World was twisting itself around her desires. And others would have their wills bent in accommodation.


    Shapers. That was what Anesidyra called them.


    Leira was one herself. So was Gwil. Skuld, without a doubt. That old man had it in spades.


    She¡¯d spent her life crushed beneath such otherworldly weight. And she had broken free.


    That Leira found herself suppressed by Isca¡¯s will right now was frightening. The woman was not even present. And she did not appear to be of such high station, for lack of a better term. She was a prisoner in this shithole, for fuck¡¯s sake.


    Leira had never seen the script of her tattoos. Whatever she was, or was a part of, it was something of terrible consequence. That, or the woman¡¯s conviction to commit this act was incredibly strong.


    Perhaps it was best that Leira let this happen. Not that she had much choice. She set her jaw. Ashkana would not be afraid.


    ***


    Everyone was gone. And they were free.


    Isca hated herself for feeling jealous. But it was so hard. And she had so far to go.


    It would never end.


    But she had this damnable sliver of hope. Not for herself, or her sect, but for the World. It was not too late. She¡¯d seen it with her own two eyes. I must return home.


    Back in the mines. Isca stood at the bottom of a pit, in the very same spot she¡¯d been working when the uprising began. She laughed. So much had changed in those few hours, it felt like years had passed.


    She¡¯d been working a particularly rich vein. The Kaia¡¯s glow was radiant. Beautiful, even.


    Isca picked her pickaxe up off the ground¡ªit lay right where she¡¯d left it.


    ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see you again, Cort,¡± she whispered.


    Isca sliced her palm open with the axe and squeezed her fist above the Kaia vein. Her corrupted blood caught fire when it touched the air.


    The white-blue flare that erupted was at odds with existence itself. A rift tore open.


    ***


    Kaia burned with such voracious intensity that the explosion¡¯s full duration was as brief as a heartbeat. Deep eradication was the sole yield.


    No bones, no blood. Of the Forsaken Apostate whose name was Drevytra Iscalia, Hellwalker, not a trace remained.

 Chapter Twenty-Eight – An Infinitesimal Moment

    If you blinked, you would¡¯ve missed it. And your eyes would¡¯ve opened on a transformed world. There was a mountain, and then there wasn¡¯t.


    Through Hallowed eyes, with his Nirva whipped up into a frenzy, Gwil saw it true.


    Ripples, like waves in the sea, coursed through the air. No. Not the air, the fabric. Everything.


    In an area expanding outward from the heart of the canyon, existence collapsed in on itself, folding as if the World had been made as pliable as silk.


    The pattern resembled the disquieting depths of an iris that you see when you look closely into another person¡¯s eye.


    White-blue light devoured the design, growing brighter and brighter until it devoured itself too, creating a void.


    That infinitesimal moment ended. The mountain had disappeared. In its place, a deep and massive ink-black crater, its surface as smooth as glass. It did not smoke or smolder.


    Nearly the entire wall had been destroyed, or rather, erased. But the ends still stood, sliced cleanly by the arced edge of the explosion.


    ¡°Woah,¡± Leira breathed.


    ¡°I missed it!¡± Dwillard said. ¡°I had to sneeze.¡±


    Cort stared, motionless.


    ¡°What a show!¡± Gwil said. ¡°I wanna go touch it.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Leira said. ¡°It¡¯s certainly poisonous, and you just got out of that hellhole.¡±


    ¡°On the contrary,¡± Buzzard said, holding up one finger. ¡°It should be perfectly safe. Heehee. Unless, of course, the immensity of that blast breaks our theorems pertaining to Kaia¡¯s destructive energy output. But I don¡¯t anticipate such an outcome.


    ¡°You see, nothing noxious remains. Nothing remains at all. Kaia destroys itself. That vacuous patch is likely the cleanest, purest place in all the World.


    ¡°Loathe as I am to use such a detestable word¡­ It becomes clearer with every passing day. Kaia is magic¡ªor at least so empyrean that we have no better word. It has something resembling a will.¡±


    ¡°Wow, it does look like a lot of nothing,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Precisely. Marvelous.¡± He began fiddling with his goggles. ¡°Heehee. Excellent. I have obtained a recording of the event. Once I get a new laboratory set up, I intend to sit down and dissect the footage for at least seventy-two straight hours.¡±


    ¡°Oh gosh, doc,¡± Dwillard said. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can stay awake so long.¡±


    ¡°You must, Dwillard. Who else will empty my catheter?¡± Buzzard scratched at his chin. ¡°Hmm¡­ I¡¯d bet my life that the Leviathan has caused worse Kaia incidents and covered them up. I need to investigate that. Oh! That reminds me. I didn¡¯t want to say this earlier in case it caused you to cancel your plan, but the Leviathan will certainly come to investigate what happened. Heehee.¡±


    ***


    ¡°How much time do we have, Buzzard?¡± Leira asked, her voice hoarse. ¡°When will they arrive?¡±


    ¡°How should I know?¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Will they send soldiers, or will a Monarch deign to come themself? The Monarch may be busy. What if they¡¯re in the bath? Will they come by warpship?¡±


    Leira slapped him hard across the face. Gwil and Dwillard gasped. Several heads turned at the sharp clapping sound, and many of the prisoners shouted their approval.


    ¡°Through what means will they detect what happened?¡± Leira said through clenched teeth. ¡°How much time?¡±


    Buzzard touched his hand to the red mark on his cheek. ¡°Several hours, at least. Perhaps a day or even days. Interestingly, it¡¯s not the blast that they will detect. That¡¯s impossible, since nothing remains, and no fallout was produced. It is this immense crater that they will eventually notice. It¡¯ll be picked up by one of their spy drones, which don¡¯t fly over this barren region very often.¡± He nodded. ¡°You will have some time.¡±


    Leira turned to Gwil. ¡°How dead set are you on staying here?¡±


    He pointed up at the manor in the hollowed-out canyon wall. ¡°I won¡¯t leave until I destroy their home. But you can take the prisoners away and I¡¯ll catch up.¡±


    ¡°No. No, I¡¯m not gonna leave you.¡± Leira shook her head, clutched at her hair. She hated this, this crippling fear. If they fled, they¡¯d be abandoning these poor souls, who they¡¯d just rescued, to certain death. Ashkana wouldn¡¯t be scared. Ashkana wouldn¡¯t run. Not from the Leviathan, not from anyone. She would fight.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°You guys are right,¡± Leira said. ¡°We can¡¯t just run away. We wouldn¡¯t make it anywhere with all these people, anyway. Let¡¯s finish this properly. But Gwil. We need to be gone before the Leviathan shows up, so be quick about it.¡±


    Gwil cracked his knuckles and smiled at her. ¡°No problem. I¡¯m gonna trash the cowboy and the Burger.¡±


    ¡°I know you will,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Hey Cort,¡± Gwil said. ¡°No one died, did they?¡±


    Without turning to look, Cort shook his head.


    Gwil grabbed Cort¡¯s squarish chin and twisted it around. Leira expected Cort to punch him in the face.


    ¡°Quit moping,¡± Gwil said. ¡°If she said she¡¯d be okay, then she¡¯s okay. But if you want to look for her together after this, we can.¡±


    Cort nodded.


    ***


    Bethany nibbled her fingernail as she circled the mannequin, examining the hot pink dress that adorned it. Speaking for herself, Bethany thought Wanda did perfectly fine work. Her dresses possessed a certain timelessness. Very well-suited to a traditional ball or some such thing.


    But this one, that the flower-eyed woman had given to her, was far too frilly. Bethany¡¯s heart skipped a beat, as it did every time that she thought of how much money Leira had given her.


    What a strange woman.


    Heavens, Bethany had no clue what she¡¯d ever do with all those doubloons. She¡¯d stashed them away in a slit in her mattress.


    The thought of striking out on her own did tickle her a bit¡ªthe devilish, brave part of her that only existed in her daydreams.


    Maybe one day she¡¯d meet a guest who had a means of transport and would be willing to smuggle her out of Podexia. If she could somehow open her own shop in one of the big cities¡­ Gods. Would she ever dare take that leap?Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Certainly not. And she wouldn¡¯t want to. Not really. Adeline was like a mother to her. An extremely harsh, overbearing, and demanding mother, but¡­


    Bethany smiled at her silly fantasy as she selected her biggest pair of shears and began hacking away at the mess of frills. Seldom did she get the opportunity to attack a garment so barbarically. She reveled in it as clumps of cloth fell around her feet.


    ¡°Bethany! Bethany!¡±


    She jumped, the shears clattering to the floor, as Adeline threw the door open.


    ¡°That looks lovely already, darling,¡± Adeline said. ¡°Be sure to bring it with us.¡±


    ¡°Mistress? Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s been a disaster in the mines,¡± Adeline said.


    Bethany clamped her hands over her mouth. ¡°Did¨C Is¨C Do you know if Doctor Buzzard is alright?¡±


    ¡°Of course he is, girl,¡± Adeline said. ¡°He warned me something was coming. We¡¯re leaving Podexia for good. Pack all your things and then come help me with the dresses. We¡¯ll bring only the best; space will be limited.¡±


    ¡°O-okay,¡± Bethany said. Her whole body shivered. She couldn¡¯t catch her breath. But it wasn¡¯t just her panic. There was something wrong with the air. She put her hand over her heart.


    Adeline reached out and took her other hand. ¡°We will be fine. I will protect you, I promise. Buzzy has a plan. But we need to help him, so be quick. We have a lot of work to do.¡± She scurried out the door, twirling her hand over her head. ¡°And lives to save,¡± she sang.


    ***


    Sophia trudged down the street, blinking against tears, swallowing against sobs. Her eyes flitted about, imagining accidents that might befall her and end this misery.


    A building collapse. A sinkhole. A Talus running her over.


    Today was one of her days working in the bordello. She hated it. Hate, hate, hate. And all that hate twisted her into something she hated even more.


    She hated the fucking bitch madam. She hated looking into the bleak eyes of the other women. She hated the scummy clientele.


    If she could just work in the lift¡¯s reception hall every day, life would not be so bad. Good even, for a slave. But instead, half her days were spent in purgatory, and the other half she lived in hell.


    Sophia did not know how many more days she could take. She hated how her sole desire was for death to take her. Worst of all, these chains made her resent her children, her twin baby boys. Born slaves. If not for them, she could off herself and be done with this World.


    She suffocated on her hatred. All this cruelty had made her into something awful. She was supposed to love her children.


    How soon after their first steps would they be taken and put to work?


    Sophia stopped around the corner from the bordello and leaned against the wall. With all she had, she fought not to cry. She would not taint this sliver of peace, these few precious seconds.


    She forced a quivering smile and looked at the sky. And then, she watched a piece of the World die.


    Everyone on the street panicked. A mountain had just vanished. An enormous chunk of land had been carved out of the canyon, the bottomless pit in which she and her children were imprisoned.


    Sophia laughed genuinely for the first time in a long time.


    And then she got serious. A chance. It would be chaos. They could escape.


    She turned and started running, making for her tenement. The old lady who lived next door was watching the boys.


    It¡¯s them, she realized. That flower-eyed woman who had harassed her. The Hallowed man who attacked Lord Ansoir a few days back was that woman¡¯s companion.


    When Sophia heard of that incident, she knew those two had been lying to her when they entered the Chateau. But she¡¯d never dreamed of something like this. The two of them were raiders or thieves or something. And they destroyed the Kaia mines.


    A miracle. That explosion was the most beautiful thing she¡¯d ever seen.


    Thank you, whoever you are. Thank you for this chance at a life. If not for me, please, at least let it be for some of us.


    Sophia clenched her fists. No. I will take it, no matter what.


    ***


    Sheriff Jackson sat in the seat of his chopper, which he¡¯d brought up onto the manor¡¯s rooftop deck. He had a spittoon in his lap, a bottle of whiskey in his left hand, and a cigar in his right.


    A bunch of sliced up corpses were scattered across the deck. Jackson had brought all the men who¡¯d fled from the wall up here and slaughtered them. Piece of shit cowards. They were mostly Stondemaier¡¯s men anyway, not a part of his old gang.


    But he¡¯d left Bart alive. Jackson liked Bart ¡®cause he always called him ¡®sir¡¯.


    The old gang was dead. That mangy Hallowed kid probably beat ¡®em all to death. That truth would hurt bad once Jackson stopped drinking, so he¡¯d keep on drinking.


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ goddamn piece of shit little brat,¡± he muttered. He sloshed some whiskey onto Bart¡ªwho was looking out over the railing¡ªto get his attention. ¡°No one¡¯s gone back into the prison?¡±


    ¡°No sir,¡± Bart said. ¡°They look to be heading for the town, sir.¡±


    ¡°Good. I¡¯ll go kill them later once I¡¯ve had my fill. And fuck all the resort guests and Stondemaier¡¯s gaggle of rich assholes. I¡¯m gonna massacre that whole fuckin¡¯ town ¡®cause I¡¯m royally pissed off. We¡¯re done with the resort shit. Waste of money. Pure Kaia mining from here on out. We got word that the elevator¡¯s shut down?¡± the sheriff asked.


    ¡°Yes sir, but I¡¯ve been trying to tell you, sir,¡± Bart said.


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ hell, man,¡± Jackson slurred. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Sir, Toothpick sent word and-¡±


    Jackson belched. ¡°He¡¯s alive?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir. Everyone you left down there is alive, sir,¡± Bart said. ¡°They¡¯re about to take the cable car up here. TP says that the Hallow spared him and the others.¡±


    ¡°What a fuckin¡¯ dweeb.¡± Jackson spat. ¡°So, the old gang lives. Maybe we get to keep playing the game.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir. But TP also said that the Hallow told them to tell you that he¡¯s, quote, coming to take everything.¡±


    Jackson laughed and then slammed his empty bottle of whiskey on the tile. ¡°I can¡¯t fuckin¡¯ believe it.¡± He clapped his hands. ¡°Bravo for you and your fuckin¡¯ principles, kid. Using Erithist in a fight.¡± He spat. ¡°Despicable. I¡¯m gonna dice his head up into little slices, like the way you cut up a salami roll, know what I mean, Bart?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°After I offered him a job too, man,¡± Jackson said. ¡°I liked that kid. I really did. Now I hate him. I can¡¯t wait to kill him.¡±


    He jumped up, and the motion made him vomit all over his boots. ¡°Ugh, I needed that. Fuckin¡¯ Erithist.¡±


    Jackson looked up at a bright light in the sky. At first, he thought a titanic fuckin¡¯ god was spawning, with an eye the size of a mountain.


    Then he realized what had happened.


    The sheriff closed his eyes, rubbed the wound on his shoulder that was takin¡¯ its sweet time healing. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth. He opened his eyes.


    ¡°Bart,¡± Jackson said.


    The man squeaked.


    ¡°Meet up with the boys when they get up here, then get Stondemaier, and set up shop in the throne room. Go right now, because I¡¯m about to lose my fucking shit, and I don¡¯t want to kill you.¡±


    Bart was gone in a flash.


    But the rage didn¡¯t boil over. Jackson chuckled to himself. I already lost. Come get me, kid. Let¡¯s see if this is the end of the line for me. Or the start of a new day.


    You watchin¡¯ me from hell, Pa? Lemme show you how a real man fights when his chips are down.


    ***


    Beneath the burning afternoon sun, the escapees drifted back toward the ruined prison, like moths to a flame.


    A cable car passed overhead. Through its window, they could see a bunch of Jackson¡¯s officers packed inside. The prisoners threw some rocks at it, but it was too high up.


    Brock rolled along behind Gwil, Leira, and Cort.


    Leira laughed. ¡°I wonder what all the townsfolk are thinking after that¨C Gwil! What is that sticking out of your chest?¡±


    ¡°Hm?¡± Gwil said, looking down. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s just my bones. I think I regrew my hand twice, and part of my foot, and maybe part of my intestine. Oh, I need to find my shoe!¡±


    Leira grabbed Gwil¡¯s hand, and he yelped. It was still all tender and pink.


    She leaned close and began examining his chest, which was covered with red fissures and patches of writhing granulation tissue. His prison jumpsuit hung in tatters and held on only because the strips of cloth had been grafted into his flesh.


    ¡°Ugh, I didn¡¯t realize it was so bad,¡± Leira said. ¡°How are you standing up? How are you even alive?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s normal, isn¡¯t it? You threw me off a cliff!¡±


    ¡°Fuck no, it¡¯s not normal. Yes, all Hallows have regenerative abilities, but regrowing limbs and¡­¡± she poked her finger into a particularly deep wound, ¡°mending organs in minutes? That¡¯s not normal, not without years of training.¡±


    ¡°Ha! I guess I¡¯m not too bad,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s no surprise,¡± Leira said, wiping off her hand. ¡°Ashkana knows what she¡¯s doing.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡± Cort grumbled. ¡°What¡¯ve you got to do with that madwoman?¡±


    Leira whipped around and grabbed hold of Cort. ¡°What have you got to do with her?¡±


    Cort extracted himself from her. ¡°Nothing. I don¡¯t have anything to do with anyone. But it was a Vermin commander that hired me to steal some Kaia from this place, and then, argh¡­¡± he trailed off with a wave of his hand.


    Leira smacked Gwil upside the head. ¡°Did you know about that? Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡±


    ¡°I forgot.¡±


    She smacked him again and then turned on Cort. ¡°Listen here, Cortemius.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not my name!¡±


    Leira jabbed her finger into Cort¡¯s chest. ¡°If there¡¯s anything in this World that you give a single shit about, you¡¯ll take Gwil and I to this commander as soon as possible. In fact, we should probably leave immediately.¡±


    ¡°Nuh-uh,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Are you crazy?¡± Cort said. ¡°I botched the job. I don¡¯t wanna see that guy ever again. Prolly wants my head.¡±


    ¡°Moron! Gwil is chosen by Ashkana!¡± Leira shouted. ¡°It is imperative that we find her, and this commander could help.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Gwil said, scratching his chin. ¡°What if Ashkana just wants to kill me or something?¡±


    ¡°Of course she doesn¡¯t,¡± Leira shrieked. ¡°That¡¯s the stupidest thing I¡¯ve ever heard. You are so stupid for even-¡±


    Her outburst was cut off by a sniveling, whimpering cry.

 Chapter Twenty-Nine – I’m Sorry

    ¡°This is my home!¡± Ansoir screamed. He tumbled out of the litter, only to be caught by Brock, who laid him down on the ground.


    ¡°Ugh¡­¡± Leira said.


    Gwil raised his eyebrows at Ansoir¡¯s tantrum. This guy was always so upset. He went to the flailing lord and picked him up by the collar.


    ¡°You dirty fucking monsters!¡± Ansoir screamed. ¡°Bloodthirsty heathens!¡±


    Gwil glanced up at Brock. The Talus kept his distance, nervously rubbing his boulder-hands together.


    Gwil let Ansoir hit him in the face a few times. Sometimes people needed that.


    ¡°Kill me!¡± he wailed. ¡°Just kill me! You¡¯ve ruined everything!¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry,¡± Leira said. ¡°He¡¯s my responsibility. Let¡¯s knock him out again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°No,¡± Gwil said.


    He shifted his hold on Ansoir to pin his arms against his sides. ¡°Stop screaming.¡±


    Ansoir spit in Gwil¡¯s face.


    ¡°You¡¯re kind of a piece of shit,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You freaked out after you hit me with your flying car. But I think you¡¯re just like an annoying little kid. So, it¡¯s not really your fault.¡±


    ¡°Erm, Gwil?¡± Leira said.


    He turned at the worry in her voice. Ansoir¡¯s shrieking had drawn the attention of a handful of prisoners. Most of them continued moving toward the black crater, but this group had split off to encircle the happening, and they were pressing closer.


    ¡°He¡¯s the worst of them!¡± a woman shouted.


    ¡°Spill his blood,¡± another cried.


    ¡°We should execute him in the town square!¡±


    Cort pressed back against the mob. Brock was beside himself, head bowed, arms flailing.


    ¡°Hey, hey,¡± Gwil said. He threw Ansoir over his shoulder, crouched, and, with a burst of Nirva, leapt over the heads of the buzzing mob to land behind them.


    Gwil pointed at them and wagged his finger. ¡°No one come any closer or I¡¯ll beat you up.¡±


    Leira pushed her way through the crowd to stand between Gwil and the mob. ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± she said. ¡°Ansoir is just a stupid little guy. Would killing him really accomplish anything?¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± roared the mob.


    ¡°Cort! What are you doing?¡± Leira hissed.


    He stood off to the side, leaning on his spear. He shrugged. ¡°I realized I don¡¯t actually care what happens here.¡±


    Gwil dropped Ansoir on the ground and said, ¡°Apologize to them, Antoin.¡±


    Leira facepalmed. That idea had pissed the mob off even more, driving them into a frenzy.


    ¡°What the fuck is an apology worth?¡± said a woman with a voice shrill enough to cut steel.


    ¡°Nothing for you,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But I wanna make him do it.¡±


    It didn¡¯t seem like they could even hear him over their clamoring.


    So, he yelled, ¡°Hey! Shut up!¡±


    Silence, except the wind and their wheezing lungs.


    ¡°Nobody talk, or I¡¯ll beat you up for that too,¡± Gwil said. Then he grimaced at himself. ¡°Ah shit. I don¡¯t wanna be like that. You can talk, of course. But I¡¯m not gonna let anyone hurt this guy, so go away or something.¡±


    The shrill woman pushed her way forward, tears streaming down her face.


    ¡°Limmy, don¡¯t bother,¡± Cort groaned.


    ¡°Why?¡± Limmy shrieked at Gwil. ¡°You¡¯ve been here for a couple days. Why do you get to decide? You don¡¯t know anything. A thousand of us have been killed. We¡¯ve been tortured for years.¡± She spat. ¡°My sister died of infection after a whipping. She spent her last breaths choking on her own vomit. Death is better than he deserves. Just give us this little scrap of revenge.¡±


    ¡°Of justice!¡± someone cried out.


    ¡°No,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°WHY?¡± And that scream might¡¯ve pierced the sky to fall upon the ears of deaf, dumb, and blind gods.


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°You don¡¯t get to kill this helpless, pathetic person just ¡®cause you want to. Work out why for yourselves. Go away, forget about Antoin. He doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    Ansoir, who had been cowering behind Gwil¡¯s legs, crept out and prostrated himself before the prisoners. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he rasped. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± He bawled, gulping for air between sobs. ¡°I-I-I-I was blind! I see now that you¡¯re all human.¡±


    The prisoners were momentarily stunned, but quickly resumed being angry. Cort inserted himself into the situation at that point and began shooing everyone away, sending them off toward the rest of their fellows at the crater.


    ¡°Please, just let me¡­¡± Ansoir trailed off as he crawled up into Brock¡¯s outstretched hand, and then went back into the litter and closed the curtains.


    Leira was beaming. ¡°Gwil! That was Ashkana-worthy.¡±


    ¡°Eh,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I didn¡¯t really mean to do any of that.¡± He scratched his chin; his beard had grown itchy and annoying. ¡°Hmm. Cort, do you think any of them will wanna attack the manor?¡±


    ¡°Definitely,¡± Cort said. ¡°I reckon a lot of them are way more interested in revenge than freedom. They¡¯d probably storm that manor without you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, okay. Everyone should do whatever they want,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But we gotta keep an eye on the extra sick people and the extra old people. I don¡¯t want anyone keeling over and breaking my promise to Isca.¡±


    ¡°Man, why do you care so much about any of this?¡± Cort grumbled.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the World I was waiting for.¡±


    ***


    The walls of the black crater were formed of tightly packed glassy dust. The end of the canyon had been blasted away; the mountain that stood above had vanished¡ªconsumed by the sphere of devastation.


    Like an enormous lake filled with inky nothingness.


    The prisoners gathered at the edge of the pit. Some stood still and silent, captivated. Others spat or wept. A few pissed into the emptiness.


    Kneeling at the edge, Gwil scooped up a handful of the black crystalline substance and closed his fist. It crumbled, the fragility reminding him of shed snakeskin.


    The pit looked bottomless, plumbing far deeper than the mines had. In the depths, Gwil could see fleet, indistinct splotches, a bit like the afterimages one sees if they look at the sun.


    ¡°It¡¯d be cool to go down there,¡± Gwil said. He looked at Cort, who knelt beside him. The hulking man looked like he¡¯d seen a ghost.


    Gwil clapped him on the back. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to find out how she escaped.¡±


    Gwil stood¡ªhe didn¡¯t want to bother Cort¡ªand went to Leira, who had maintained a healthy distance from the crater.


    ¡°I knew you¡¯re afraid of heights,¡± Gwil said.


    She shook her head. ¡°I dunno what that might¡¯ve opened up. I don¡¯t want to be seen.¡±


    Gwil frowned and recalled his promise to Skuld. Leira feared something. He could tell that it hung over her constantly. She was so strong for carrying all that weight.


    They¡¯d have to get rid of it. Gwil could not stand to watch her suffer.


    A little old man hobbled toward them, using a broken spear as a cane.


    ¡°Diom!¡± Gwil shouted, thrilled to see that the man looked rather spry.


    But Diom did not hear his call. The old man went right past them to where Cort sat at the edge of the pit.


    ¡°Look!¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°There¡¯s my shoe!¡±


    He ran over and picked it up. The very tip of the toe had been touched by the Kaia explosion, leaving a tiny hole.


    ***


    Cort looked up, annoyed that Gwil had already turned to disturb him. Instead, he saw Diom. The old man¡¯s bones creaked as he sat down with painstaking care.


    Cort readied to catch him in case he toppled over the edge.


    The old man buried his wrinkly face in his wrinkly hands. ¡°You were close with her, weren¡¯t you?¡± Diom wheezed.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cort grunted with some surprise. He had thought Diom incapable of speech.


    ¡°It¡¯s my fault,¡± Diom said, the buzzing sound wavering as his breath quickened.


    ¡°Eh?¡±


    ¡°I think¡­¡± the old man whimpered and shook his head. ¡°Stupid, stupid, stupid. I told her she had to carry all of us. I only meant to give her strength.¡±


    Cort shook his head. ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°She must have thought that committing the ultimate sacrifice would fuel a fire in us. She made herself our martyr.¡± Sobs racked his thin frame.


    ¡°Isca is not dead, Diom,¡± Cort said.


    The old man lifted his head and blinked tears from red and rheumy eyes. He looked at Cort, then down into the abyssal pit, then back at Cort. He raised a wiry eyebrow, an eyebrow so bolstered by disbelief that its arch was as steep as a mountain peak.


    ¡°Dear boy,¡± Diom said. ¡°Don¡¯t let grief drag you into delusion. Cherish her memory, care for it as you would a precious flower, let it flourish. But don¡¯t-¡±


    ¡°Dammit, she¡¯s not dead!¡± Cort yelled.


    Diom shook his head and made to stand. ¡°Please, I can¡¯t stand seeing you like this. Throw me into this pit if it would help you find acceptance. I deserve to be punished.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna do that!¡± Cort barked. He stood up and dragged Diom away from the edge.


    ***


    ¡°What in the fuck¡­¡± Leira muttered. ¡°Why is Cortemius berating that old man? And now he¡¯s manhandling him!¡±


    ¡°Hey Diom, what¡¯s wrong?¡± Gwil said, leaning to look past Cort.


    ¡°He thinks Isca killed herself ¡®cause of some stupid advice that he gave her,¡± Cort said.


    Gwil laughed. ¡°Isca¡¯s not dead.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I-¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s not?¡± Diom said, his eyes wide and sparkling.


    ¡°Definitely not,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Oh, thank the gods,¡± Diom cried. ¡°Thank every god from the sea to the stars.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Cort roared. ¡°Why do you believe him?¡±


    ¡°Because this newcomer is a miracle,¡± Diom whispered.


    ¡°Bu-whu-I,¡± Cort stammered. ¡°Okay. Whatever.¡±


    ¡°Sir,¡± Leira said. ¡°I spoke to Isca after the blast.¡± She pointed at her eyeflower. ¡°With this. She¡¯s alive and well.¡±


    Cort put his hands over his eyes and groaned while Gwil looked at Leira and said, ¡°Really?¡±


    Diom clasped his hands together. ¡°It¡¯s as if you two came from a dream that I never dared have.


    ¡°See, I was a much younger man when Lord Stondemaier imprisoned me. There are none alive among the prisoners who know this, but I once served as Stondemaier¡¯s chief retainer.


    ¡°When dearest Ophelia tragically passed away, Stondemaier was inconsolable. He purged everything, including his humanity. Me and the rest of his closest advisors were detained.


    ¡°We were made to share in the terrible fate that we had imparted upon so many innocents. The prison. The Kaia¡¯s poison. It was¡­ a sobering experience. We¡¯d been affluent, drunk on power, filled with self-superiority. And blind.


    ¡°We came to understand that we deserved it. That we had earned this punishment.¡± He squeezed his eyes closed. ¡°Seventeen years. Only I remain. I took their penitence upon my shoulders. And I swore to myself that I would not die until I could meet my brothers in hell and tell them that I put an end to the suffering that we fostered.¡± Wheezing to catch his breath, Diom smiled, big and toothless. ¡°I knew it was a fool¡¯s hope, but it kept me going.¡±


    ¡°Wow! You sure talk a lot, old man,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I never heard him say two words,¡± Cort muttered.


    ¡°Dammit!¡± Leira squeaked, clamping a hand over her mouth.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tie yourself down like that, Diom,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re gonna need something else to live for.¡±


    With that, Gwil turned and ran.


    ***


    ¡°Gwil!¡± Leira shouted. ¡°Show them how worthless they are!¡±


    He looked at her over his shoulder, a shit-eating grin stretched across his face.


    ¡°What the hell is he doing?¡± Cort said.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, gather them up,¡± Leira said. ¡°We gotta follow him.¡±


    ¡°Fuck that,¡± Cort said. ¡°All these lives on the line and he runs off on a whim.¡±


    Leira turned on him. ¡°You can¡¯t be as thick as you look. Don¡¯t you get it? He brought this godsforsaken place to its knees. By accident. We came here on a whim. He only became a Hallow a fucking week ago. He doesn¡¯t even have an Invoke-¡±


    ¡°That lying bastard!¡±


    ¡°And look what he¡¯s done. He did all this¡ªhelped all of you¡ªjust because he wanted to. No other reason. Lady Ashkana is looking for him. He¡¯s special. And you¡¯re an idiot if you don¡¯t see it.¡±


    Leira had started shouting, though she hadn¡¯t meant to. Many of the escapees had gathered around to listen.


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± Cort groaned. ¡°I see it. I¡¯m not blind. That doesn¡¯t mean he gets to just run off without saying anything.¡± He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s just plain rude!¡±


    They watched as Gwil scurried up the sliced end of the wall. The Kaia blast¡¯s arc had carved a gentle slope that led right up to the top of the wall. Even Diom could¡¯ve scaled it.


    There was no other way they could¡¯ve reached the manor. The explosion had created a path.


    ¡°Or maybe he knows we¡¯re fucked if the way isn¡¯t clear,¡± Leira said.


    Doctor Buzzard appeared beside her elbow, and she nearly leapt out of her shoes.


    ¡°I assure you that this is a worthwhile interruption,¡± Buzzard said. He twisted his goggles. ¡°Is that Gwilym up there? Anyway, you intend to attack the Burgermeister¡¯s manor, correct?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Surely you do not intend to bring all these poor, infirm souls along on such a dangerous endeavor?¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°No,¡± Cort said, raising an eyebrow.


    Buzzard rubbed his hands together. ¡°I have an endless number of tricks up my sleeve, as any genius should. I have constructed a small airship in my spare time.¡± He turned and pointed. ¡°It¡¯s hidden inside that distant butte. I would be happy to fly everyone to safety.¡±


    That stirred the mob of escapees into an uproar.


    ¡°Are you insane?¡± Cort said through clenched teeth. He raised his hands, his fingers bent and twisted, barely restraining himself from wringing Buzzard¡¯s neck.


    ¡°Is it more insane than marching across these barren lands with a horde of sickly people? Through the Stormlands? Potentially for weeks, while assailed by all manner of dangers. Heehee. How did you intend to feed them? Or were you going to eschew responsibility?¡±


    Cort laughed. ¡°That is fucking rich coming from you, you little-¡±


    Buzzard lifted his goggles onto his forehead. Perhaps because of his glowing eyes, it did not have the reassuring effect he might have intended.


    ¡°I deserve some blame, yes,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°But that does not change the facts. These people are dependent on Kaia. Half of them will die without treatment. The rest, a year? I am their only chance. I will bring them to safety right now. Gwilym might be confident, but the World is cruel. Your victory is not assured.¡±


    The mob¡¯s anger simmered down into animated discussion.


    Diom, who still stood nearby, cleared his throat. The phlegmy sound made Leira¡¯s skin crawl.


    ¡°I will not speak for the others as to whether they are willing to accept Buzzard¡¯s aid.¡± Spit sputtered from his dry, cracked lips. ¡°But I can speak for all of them on this: None of us will leave Podexia until the fighting is over, no matter the outcome.¡±


    ¡°Holy hell, Diom?¡± Buzzard said, putting his goggles back on. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re still alive! Does Stondemaier know? I must study your physiology. You are an anomaly.¡±


    Cort climbed up onto a rock and cupped his hands around his mouth. ¡°Listen up!¡±

 Chapter Thirty – Waiting in the Wings

    The sun sank, spitting thin fire across the darkening sky. Storm clouds gathered to the north.


    The stone wall served as a line of division between natural earth and Kaia-born annihilation. To one side, a rocky waste, the World laid bare. To the other, a deep void, like an amputation.


    Gwil slowed down as he neared the end of the wall. The way was unguarded. A grand staircase bridged the top of the wall to the base of the hollow in which stood the manor.


    He crouched and crept up the steps.


    ¡°Ooh!¡±


    Though parts of the gardens were trampled, it was an amazing sight, something an artist could happily spend a lifetime on. The World thrived here, with a vibrance that beggared belief.


    The twisting labyrinth of hedges and shrubbery was difficult to fathom. A forest of exotic trees served as framework, bordering the walls of the hollow.


    An array of statues stood throughout, their bodies tangled in vines, their stone feet planted upon crushed hedges and torn-out roots. The damage was worse along the tree line, where there were piles of dirt and patches of loose soil.


    ¡°Woah,¡± Gwil breathed as he stood up and stepped into the garden. He could see only the manor¡¯s top half over the heights of the shrubbery.


    The smell¡ªthe smell was wonderful. It cleansed the taint of Kaia from Gwil¡¯s nostrils. The first nice thing he¡¯d smelled since that restaurant he and Leira had passed when they first got here. Oh no, we forgot the chocolate fountain!


    The gardens appeared to be empty, so he strolled forward, awed.


    Over a dozen statues were arranged throughout, each unique and strange. Several of the designs were familiar to Gwil, resembling illustrations he¡¯d seen in old books back in Reverie. Most were made of stone, others metal, and a couple were hewn from gemstone.


    The tallest was made of copper¡ªa horse with a very long neck. Gwil wondered how it didn¡¯t topple over. Beside it, a pearlescent elephant with three heads and human arms, wielding a giant hammer. And a solid gold one depicting a muscular man with a beard of serpents and a spiked crown.


    Another was a wide, frog-like body with two human heads, a man and a woman, their mouths frozen in screams, their tongues tied together in a knot. There was a jade woman with an eagle bursting from her chest. A fan-like frill of arms grew from her back, with each hand performing a different gesture.


    These were way cooler looking than Brock.


    Gwil approached the nearest one¡ªa skeleton sculpted from black-veined alabaster. It had its bone arms raised, and they were draped in stone rags with perfectly realized folds. Its ribcage was formed of centipedes. And the face had no mouth or nose, only eye sockets. Two silver spikes stuck out of the holes.


    Gwil leaned in close to examine the maddening detail of the countless centipede legs. One of the arms swung down and struck him on the side of the head.


    His legs buckled and his ears rang. He rubbed his temple, feeling the bones creaking back into place. ¡°Hey, what the fuck, man?¡±


    Gwil scrambled back as the statue raised its leg upright, and then slammed its heel down into the place where Gwil¡¯s head had just been.


    It didn¡¯t seem fair that a being made of stone was so flexible.


    Gwil laughed as he stood up. The skeleton had gotten its leg stuck in the soft soil. He pushed it over as it struggled to extract itself.


    And then his smile melted away.


    All the statues were moving, closing in on him. ¡°Ahhh! They¡¯re all Taluses! I¡¯m so stupid!¡±


    But as they approached, Gwil saw they were not quite like Brock. Their liveliness was not as natural. They moved strangely, limp yet spastic, like poorly manipulated puppets.


    They were encircling him, pushing him back toward the cliff¡¯s edge. And the wall. He had to deal with these things before the others made it up here.


    Gwil dashed forward and slid under the clotheslining tentacle of a squid-like monstrosity that moved by clumsily flailing against the ground.


    He was just trying to get away from the cliff, but if this sorry-looking thing was giving him an opening¡­


    Gwil surged Nirva into his fist as he pivoted out of his slide. He leapt onto the squid¡¯s mound shaped head, landing in a crouch. And then he slammed his fist straight down on the top of the statue¡¯s head.


    Craaack.


    Gwil croaked like a squished toad and fell over onto the ground, clutching his hand. His fingers had been smashed inward so that they reached halfway up his wrist.


    A storm of heavy footsteps. Gwil lunged out of the way of the golden snake-king¡¯s scepter and then rolled under the spindly legs of a spider-bodied centaur woman.


    Making to stand, he bonked his head on her bulbous abdomen and then ran deeper into the gardens. These stupid Taluses were destroying all the nice flowers. What a shame. Brock would never.


    The statues were not very fast, so Gwil took a moment to bend his fingers back into place.


    They were stupid, too. When they caught up to him, Gwil ran back the other way, and eventually began doing laps around the whole garden. Only twice did the statues attempt to cut him off or diverge from the circular path that he led them on. They kept crashing into each other¡ªa few stone limbs had broken off.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Running at the head of this absurd train, Gwil kept his eye on the path that led up to the manor¡¯s entrance. He could¡¯ve made a run for it, but he didn¡¯t want the statues on his tail when he found the sheriff.


    Better to destroy them all, so that they wouldn¡¯t give the others any trouble.


    But he was getting bored of running. He tried a few hit-and-run attacks, but he just couldn¡¯t do any actual damage to stone or metal. Not without beating on it for hours.


    Jumping into the fray was risky too, with the Taluses all packed together, and with so many strange appendages and weapons in the mix.


    As the sky grew darker, Gwil saw something interesting¡ªthin, blue strips of light flickering across the grass.


    Kaia. Of course. That¡¯s how Brock worked, too.


    Gwil scooped up the next broken limb that he passed¡ªa marble arm holding an open book in its hand, which made it hammer-like.


    Light seeped from thin gaps on the surfaces of the statues, revealing panels on their backs. Unlike Brock, the engines that drove these Taluses were hidden.


    Gwil rested his new weapon on his shoulder, Nirva burning so that he could wield the hefty thing.


    He started sprinting, tearing around the garden. The sudden increase in his pace stirred confusion among the clustered statues. They got jammed up on each other.


    Gwil was coming up from behind, about to lap them.


    He leapt up onto the back of the spider-centaur-lady. She twisted around to face him, baring human fangs and insectoid pincers.


    Gwil smashed the book-end of his stone arm down onto the discolored square patch on her abdomen.


    It did not crack or shatter at the impact, as stone would¡¯ve, but crumpled¡ªa sheet of painted metal.


    A puff of acrid smoke, a flash of light, and a sputter of blue sparks. Gwil was flung away by the blast.


    The spider legs spasmed as the animated figure collapsed, carving through the ground as it fell. Licks of Kaia flickered across the demolished engine and then died out as she went still.


    Gwil leapt away as an instinctual vengeance took the statues. Metal and stone bodies slammed against each other, crunching and cracking, but their frenzy made them heedless. They pounded the spider-centaur¡¯s corpse into rubble.


    Gwil took advantage of the jumbled mess and smashed open the engine of the scholarly-looking statue whose arm he wielded.


    The knot of Taluses again lashed out in his direction, but Gwil was too quick for them.


    He grinned. It was very satisfying to destroy these statues, what with the light show and the way they petered out like a windup toy. This would be fun.


    ***


    Of the two hundred-some prisoners, about half would assault the manor. Joining this attack demanded a strength beyond desperate self-preservation.


    And then there were those who wished with all their burning hearts to participate but were unfit because of their feeble condition.


    The escapees governed themselves on this matter. They forced hard decisions upon each other where they themselves were too foolhardy and feverish to think straight.


    Cort paced back and forth through the horde as they made their preparations, barking the occasional order. His eyes flickering from the manor to the black crater to the town and everywhere in between.


    From atop the wall, Limmy flashed him a thumbs up. He had sent her ahead to ensure that the wall was clear.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see him, but I sure can hear him,¡± Limmy screamed down.


    Cort climbed up on a rock to give the assault team a final once-over. Most still wielded pickaxes, but they¡¯d gathered a decent arsenal of spears and clubs.


    Just about ready.


    Brock came rolling over to where Cort stood. Ansoir stuck his head out between the curtains, looking around as if crossing a street, and then he clambered down.


    ¡°I must come with you,¡± Ansoir said.


    Cort stared at him.


    ¡°Leira told me I had to ask you,¡± Ansoir muttered.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that could be a good idea. For you or us.¡±


    Trembling, Ansoir pointed at the manor. ¡°That is my home. You intend to kill my father and butcher my subjects.¡±


    Cort stepped closer and Ansoir cowered beneath him. ¡°Really? You think we¡¯re gonna kill your slaves?¡± He tapped Ansoir under his chin to get the little lord to look at him. ¡°I don¡¯t give a damn what you do. Odds are you¡¯ll die if you come with us. And you¡¯ll probably survive if you stay here.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a bully, Cort,¡± Leira sang as she approached. ¡°Just stay with Brock and you¡¯ll be fine, Ansoir. And don¡¯t fuck anything up or I¡¯ll stab you.¡±


    Diom came hurrying over, his cane tapping, his lame leg scraping. Cort had been watching the man tirelessly hobble around as they prepared for the attack.


    ¡°Lord Ansoir,¡± Diom cried. ¡°It¡¯s really you.¡± He grabbed Ansoir¡¯s sleeve, and the little lord failed to stifle his sneer at being touched by such grubby hands.


    ¡°Do you remember me, my lord?¡± the old man said. ¡°It¡¯s me, Diom.¡±


    Ansoir¡¯s expression actually looked human. ¡°Diom?¡± he said on a heavy breath. ¡°I can¡¯t- You¡¯re alive? I can¡¯t believe it.¡± Tears welled in his eyes.


    ¡°Gods!¡± Diom sobbed. They hugged, Ansoir¡¯s afro threatening to consume the old man. ¡°You¡¯re all grown up.¡±


    ¡°Diom,¡± Ansoir said, covering his face. ¡°My father¡­ Everything is ruined!¡±


    Diom¡¯s face wrestled against his own tears. ¡°Your father was not a man accustomed to tragedy. To lose a light such as Ophelia¡­ He had no capacity to handle such pain.¡±


    Ansoir clenched his jaw and turned on Cort. ¡°Slave!¡± he spat.


    Leira gasped.


    Cort raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Erm, I¨C I apologize,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°B-bad habit. Your name is Cort, yes? Please. My father is not the culprit here. Sheriff Jackson rules Podexia and wields my father as a puppet. Spare his life, I beg you. End the sheriff¡¯s tyranny and Podexia can return¡­¡± His voice trailed as he turned to look at the ink-black chasm that had just yesterday been his family fortune.


    ¡°Your fuckin¡¯ piece of shit father is the whole-¡±


    Leira put her hand on Cort¡¯s shoulder. He looked at her, and she shrugged as if to say, ¡®What¡¯s the point?¡¯


    Cort¡¯s cheek bunched up. ¡°Yeah, alright. I dunno what¡¯s gonna happen.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not for us to decide, Ansoir,¡± Diom said. ¡°We are beholden to the decisions of these men and women, just as we forced them to live at our discretion. We can only greedily hope that they have more compassion than us.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Lord Ansoir,¡± Diom said. ¡°May I accompany you?¡±


    Cort threw his hands up. ¡°Are you fu-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll stay with them, Cort,¡± Leira said. ¡°I can¡¯t use my abilities, so I was gonna stick with Brock, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Cort said.


    Leira clicked her tongue. ¡°Don¡¯t you remember when I did your job and freed half of these people all by myself? I¡¯m spent. All out of juice.¡±


    Doctor Buzzard seemed to appear out of nowhere, causing Leira to jump in fright. Dwillard came lumbering over too.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t help but overhear. Are you in need of a weapon, Megrim Daughter? It would not do for you to face any undue risk. Heehee.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Leira said. ¡°That¡¯s the last thing I want.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense,¡± Buzzard said. He took a long metal tube from Dwillard¡¯s hands. It was covered with knobs and greebles and vents. It had a grip on the bottom middle, and another that looked like a throttle on the side.


    ¡°This is just a run-of-the-mill flamethrower. Stock-standard fire. You won¡¯t sow such ruin with this.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Allow me to demonstrate,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Heehee,¡± he cackled as he pointed the weapon at the sky and cranked the throttle. With a whooshing roar, a stream of fire erupted from the flared end of the tube, climbing five meters above their heads.


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯ll take it.¡±


    Buzzard passed her the weapon. She grinned as she cradled it in her arms.


    ¡°Delightful,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°I shall take my leave. Many preparations to make. Best of luck to you all.¡± He scurried away, walking more with his long arms than his legs.


    Dwillard hung back and leaned in conspiratorially. ¡°If things¡­ go bad, I¡¯ll make sure we rescue the escapees that are staying behind.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Dwillard,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get on with it, eh?¡± Leira said. ¡°There¡¯s a bit of a ticking clock here.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-One – A Spike Through the Heart

    As night approached, the grand stone wall became a bridge.


    One hundred freed slaves marched on the manor. Their skin aglow in the darkness; the air abuzz with their wheezing breaths, frantic for their feverish pace.


    Murmurs of destruction emanated from the hollow cavern ahead. Gwil.


    At the head of the pack, Leira sat in Brock¡¯s palm while Ansoir and Diom rode in the litter. Cort and the other leaders among the escapees moved along below.


    ¡°I thought they¡¯d defend the wall,¡± Leira said. ¡°Especially after the explosion.¡±


    Cort grunted. ¡°Defend what? They¡¯re hiding. Just trying to survive. The Kaia is gone. They have nothing left.¡±


    ***


    Gwil had just destroyed his sixth Talus. His book-hammer had broken. He now wielded an iron stag''s head like a mace, using the antlers as handles.


    As he faced down the remaining few statues, something quivered through them. They went still, turned as one, and began stomping toward the manor.


    Gwil gave chase. The skeleton with the centipede ribs was lagging behind. He especially wanted to kill that one after it had sneak-attacked him earlier.


    He squinted and glimpsed the distorted void that was the Kaia. Since this Talus¡¯s torso was all holey, the engine was hidden within its alabaster loin cloth.


    Gripping the antlers with both hands, Gwil sprinted, spun and smashed the stag''s head through the posterior of the skeleton. Its legs snapped off and its arms clawed weakly at the ground as it spent its last breaths of Kaia.


    The rest of the Taluses had reached the front door of the manor, which had been thrown open to admit them.


    Gwil stopped as a sharp sense drew his eyes up to the roof of the manor. Sheriff Jackson stood at the edge, obscured by the darkness but recognizable by his hat. Suspended beside him in a bundle of ropes was a second figure.


    Unbidden, Nirva flowed into Gwil¡¯s eyes as he strained to see. It stung like alcohol. Once, when he was a kid, Caris had washed his eyes out with vodka after a lizard had spit venom into them.


    Gwil heard the agonized Nirva whispers take up a chant. He saw, not further, or with more clarity, rather something peeled away the darkness to reveal a deeper layer.


    Disparate auras engulfed the two figures.


    There was Jackson. He was painted with earthy hues, browns and tans, composed of twisting coils and bunches of knots.


    And the other man, like a pile of gravel, gray and crumbling. Beaten and battered, head lolling, pudgy body hanging limp. Red-black Yalda¡¯blood seeped through his cracks.


    Littered throughout the garden were traces of the same aura, fizzling from the broken pieces of the statues, like smoldering coals.


    Gwil knew that had to be the Burger, because the Burger loved these rocks.


    Jackson tipped his cap and then beckoned Gwil forward. A shift in the clouds cast a sliver of red moonlight upon his face, illuminating the sheriff¡¯s broken gold smile. He turned away, disappearing into the manor¡¯s embrace.


    ***


    The sounds of fighting within the manor¡¯s cavern had ceased. Cort broke into a full sprint. With a spear in each hand, he hurtled up the stairs.


    And saw Gwil, standing alone near the foot of the manor, surrounded by a torn-up garden and piles of sparkling rubble.


    Cort¡¯s eyes darted back and forth as he approached, but it looked like Gwil had mopped everything up. The rest of his comrades streamed into the cavern.


    Gwil turned and ran toward him.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Cort called.


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°Nothin¡¯. I destroyed a bunch of Taluses¡ªyou would¡¯ve loved it.¡± He made an explosion sound to accompany his hand gesture and then laughed.


    Cort fiddled with his nose ring. ¡°That can¡¯t be all they have for us.¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°The sheriff came out on the roof and told us to come inside.¡±


    Brock rolled up with Leira and the first wave of fighters.


    ¡°Yo!¡± Cort barked, waving his hands over his head. ¡°Get back. Don¡¯t go near the manor. Stick close, everyone.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Gwil,¡± Leira said. She bent over and picked up a little butterfly ornament made of silver and jade. ¡°What is this? It¡¯s so cute!¡±


    ¡°Ah, I bet you can find all sorts of good stuff,¡± Leira said. ¡°I knocked the head off a valkyrie lady. She had a winged helmet.¡±


    Leira breathed in through her teeth and her eyeflower fluttered. ¡°I love valkyries.¡±


    Ansoir exited the litter as if in a trance, wide-eyed and swaying as he surveyed the garden. He went pale as chalk. ¡°Why?¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    They stared at him.


    He grabbed Gwil by the shoulders and shook him. ¡°Why? Why would you destroy the statues?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to!¡± Gwil said. ¡°They¡¯re really cool, but they were trying to kill me.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Ansoir muttered, more to himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. ¡°No, the statues never fight. They can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Mmm, they definitely can,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°What has happened?¡± Ansoir said, staring at the manor. ¡°Father!¡±


    On the edges of the garden, fountains of dirt erupted from the ground. Trees splintered. Flecks of dirt rained down on the fighters like hail.


    All around them, hulking figures emerged from the ground. Blue light shone through clouds of dust.


    Twelve huge Taluses¡ªthese were like Brock. A story tall, two meters wide.


    Speeding on their rolling legs, the Taluses fanned out to encircle the escapees.


    ¡°Fuck! It¡¯s my fault!¡± Gwil and Cort cried in unison.


    Brock¡¯s engine squealed like a dying animal. He reached into the litter upon his head, placed Diom on the ground, and then rolled away.


    ¡°Brock, wait!¡± Ansoir screamed.


    But the Talus was gone, moving at full speed as he zipped around the ring that his brethren had formed. He had his giant hands pressed together as if in prayer.


    The enemy Taluses continued to advance.


    ***


    ¡°They walked right into it, boss!¡± Toothpick shouted. ¡°A hundred of ¡®em, at least.¡±


    Toothpick manned a periscope that could see out into the garden.


    Jackson had just returned to the cavernous throne room. Dragging Stondemaier along the ground, he passed by the host of statues that stood guard.


    ¡°Good. Should be an easy slaughter. The Hallow won¡¯t die. But hopefully they¡¯ll kill everyone else. Don¡¯t feel like dealin¡¯ with none of this liberation bullshit.¡±


    Jackson let go of Stondemaier and watched with a sneer as the grotesque man crawled across the floor like a crippled dog. Frantic murmurs sputtered from his gravel-coated lips as he reached his marble mockery of a wife, who lay in chains on the floor.


    Old Stony rested his head on her chest as the statue of Ophelia lifted her head as much as the chains allowed, just barely nuzzling her forehead against her husband¡¯s shoulder.


    They¡¯d planted a spike two fingers deep over Ophelia¡¯s Kaia engine. It sat right where her heart should¡¯ve been.


    Jackson needed Stondemaier to be nice and cooperative. If a hammer struck the spike, Ophelia would die. Jackson¡¯s man, Bart, stood over her, ready to do just that.


    Jackson shook his head at the twisted union. He gave Bart a fake signal. Bart raised the hammer over his head as if he intended to deliver that fatal blow.


    ¡°NOOO!¡± Stondemaier screamed, throwing his whole clump of a body over top of Ophelia.


    Jackson and his officers howled with laughter.


    Stondemaier dragged himself like a slug to lie at Jackson¡¯s feet. ¡°Please, Teddy, stop this!¡±


    Jackson kicked Stondemaier in the face as he tried to wrap his stunted little arms around Jackson¡¯s legs.


    The sheriff conjured a harness of rope¡ªsturdy enough to hold this rocky lug of a man¡ªand hoisted Stondemaier into the air.


    Jackson squinted, inspecting Stondemaier like he was a muskrat he¡¯d just killed. He felt that same type of pity, too.


    ¡°You¡¯re a real piece of work,¡± Jackson said.


    ¡°The Taluses have sensitive, fragile minds!¡± Stondemaier said. ¡°Have mercy, I beg you. They are like children. This will cause irreparable damage.¡±


    One of Jackson¡¯s men said, ¡°The slaves are gonna suffer some ¡®irreparable damage¡¯ too, when we pound ¡®em into juice.¡±


    ¡°Humans who were born to be slaves are worthless compared to my creations,¡± Stondemaier said. A glint flashed in his disease-ridden, bloodshot eyes.


    Jackson raised his eyebrows and rubbed his chin. It¡¯d been a couple of years since he heard Stondemaier say anything so coherent.


    With a wave of his hand, the ropes vanished. Stondemaier¡¯s sludgy body slapped against the floor. A few flakes of rock chipped off his skin.


    ¡°What a self-righteous, delusional prick you are,¡± Jackson said. ¡°I¡¯m glad I played you like a fiddle for all these years. You deserve to be ripped off.


    ¡°Lemme tell ya something. The fuckin¡¯ mental well-being of your statues don¡¯t matter. As soon as this whole mess is over, I¡¯m gonna kill you and you¡¯ll all die together. Ain¡¯t that nice?¡±


    ¡°Teddy, please,¡± Stondemaier groaned. ¡°We can call the Leviathan for aid. You¡¯re risking too much! There are powerful foreigners staying in the resort. We will be punished for this.¡±


    Jackson kicked the pile of rubble again, this time aiming for the fleshy mouth. Blood sprayed out.


    ¡°Do you even know where you are, you old bastard? How many fuckin¡¯ times do I need to say it for it to stick in your dementia-riddled head?¡± Jackson spat. He shoved his boot into Stondemaier¡¯s mouth. ¡°The Kaia is destroyed. All of it. There¡¯s nothin¡¯ to risk anymore. It¡¯s over. Chateau Podexia is ruined. You¡¯re as good as dead. The only thing the Leviathan¡¯d do for us is fuckin¡¯ vaporize the whole city.¡±


    Stondemaier gagged on his boot.


    ¡°I¡¯m burning everything down,¡± Jackson continued. ¡°There¡¯s only two things I want. One is to make sure those slaves don¡¯t taste a single lick of freedom. And I wanna fight that little bastard and see if I¡¯m supposed to keep living.


    ¡°And here¡¯s what you¡¯re gonna do, Burgermeister. Exactly what the fuck I tell you, that¡¯s what. Otherwise, Ophelia gets a spike through her metal heart. So just control the Taluses and stop pissin¡¯ me off.¡±


    Stondemaier crawled back to Ophelia. Her stupid lips were stuck in a permanent half-smile, which painted this whole scene with an extra bit of madness. Jackson chuckled.


    ¡°What¡¯s next, boss?¡±


    ¡°We hunker down and wait. Whatever few of ¡®em make it inside¡¯ll get butchered by the Taluses in the halls. The Hallow¡¯ll make it here, and I reckon he¡¯ll be real pissed off cause all his people will be dead. Good. That¡¯s how I want him.


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna play this time. He broke the rules with that Erithist shit, and he taught me a lesson. This World has passed on, and it left honor in the dust.


    ¡°I¡¯m too old and too far gone to deal with that shit anymore. We got us¡ªthe old gang¡ªand twenty statues. We¡¯ll fuckin¡¯ mob the kid the moment he runs in and turn him into ground beef.¡±


    The sheriff raised his voice. ¡°Most important of all, we get the hell out of here before the Leviathan shows up. Alright? Now, let¡¯s get the whiskey flowing.¡±


    The men cheered and started pouring drinks.


    Then, Toothpick, still on the periscope, said, ¡°Erm, boss? Trouble.¡±


    ***


    Not one death. Not one death.


    Gwil burst out of the throng, beelining for the nearest Talus. He flooded so much Nirva into his wrists that they became impossible to bend.


    His palms slammed against the Talus¡¯s body. He planted his feet and started pushing with all his might.


    The stone behemoth¡¯s boulder legs churned through the dirt as it tried to push back. But Gwil was winning the contest.


    The Talus flailed its hands at him, but Gwil was in too close for its bulbous limbs to reach.


    It was like pushing an enormously overburdened wheelbarrow. Gwil veered and crashed the Talus into another Talus that had come to try to help its ally.


    Gwil sent some Nirva into his legs so that he could handle the weight of two Taluses. The voices sang their anguished song as his legs chewed through the dirt like a tiller.


    ¡°Argh!¡±


    Gwil¡¯s comrades rushed past him, pouring through the gap he''d created in the blockade. They spread out across the garden, fleeing the stone monsters. Brock served as the rear guard, fending off his pursuing brethren as best he could.


    Not one death.


    The tremendous weight that Gwil had been wrestling with vanished. He looked over the cliff¡¯s edge.


    Just in time to see the plummeting Taluses explode against the ground. A blue and black cloud enveloped their remains.

 Chapter Thirty-Two – He Loves Us

    ¡°The engines!¡± Gwil shouted as he ran back to the horde of fleeing prisoners. ¡°Smash the engines!¡±


    Cort, Brock, and fifty fighters formed the frontline. Using the space that Gwil had created, they had positioned themselves between the Taluses and the rest of the escapees.


    Fragile humans against ten stone monstrosities. Without Brock, they would¡¯ve already been trampled. He raced up and down the line, throwing himself against the enemies.


    The defenders had adopted a sort of dance that also served as a controlled retreat. Wielding spears and amputated statue limbs, they rotated to meet whichever Taluses were not occupied by Brock. They¡¯d crowd in close to keep the Taluses from gaining any speed, and then fall back, impeding the enemies as much as possible until Brock came crashing through in relief. Then the mob would shift to flow against the other Taluses.


    The conflict drifted like a fallen leaf. The strategy worked in that it kept them alive, but they were losing ground fast, and all the escapees were being pushed back toward the cliff¡¯s edge.


    They defeated one Talus¡ªBrock had punched through its Kaia heart. But nine remained.


    Leira grabbed hold of Gwil as he ran past. Ansoir stood beside her. He had his fist stuffed in his mouth. Blood and tears trickled down his hand.


    ¡°Gwil, remember these are just normal people. Try to make us a path to the manor.¡±


    He nodded and leapt into the fray.


    Brock threw himself on the ground in front of three enemy Taluses, tripping them up and causing them to stomp all over his flailing body as they tried to get past. He¡¯d lost a couple pieces of himself, and the litter had been smashed to bits.


    Cort was doing some serious damage with an absurdly large iron hammer that he¡¯d found on the ground. Gwil recognized it because while he¡¯d been running around with the statues earlier, the elephant-man Talus had dropped that weapon immediately, not from taking any damage, but because it was so heavy his arm had snapped off when he started moving.


    Cort appeared more than fit for the giant weapon. He raised it over his head and smashed the engine of a Talus that Brock was tangling with.


    Cort flew back from the explosion. Gwil went to help him get up.


    Black smog poured from Brock¡¯s joints.


    Not one death.


    Gwil picked up a golden leg and, holding it like a spear, charged one of the other Taluses that was bludgeoning Brock.


    He slid under the stone fist as it slammed down and smashed through the engine¡¯s casing with the toes of the metal foot.


    Seven.


    Nirva rushing like a river, Gwil turned and swung the leg into the engine of the third Talus.


    The Talus partially blocked the blow, and the impact made Gwil drop the leg.


    He jumped in and clung to the Talus¡¯s torso with one hand. He dumped all his Nirva into the other. A hush stole over the whispering voices.


    Gwil¡¯s fingers became like the talons of a dreadful beast, and he plunged his hand through the engine¡¯s casing, grabbed hold of whatever he could, and ripped his hand free.


    Flickering Kaia oozed out, and then a detonation broke apart the Talus¡¯s body and threw Gwil back.


    ¡°Whaaa!¡± Gwil screamed. His hand looked like a candle in a furnace. Liquified bone and flesh dripped like melting ice cream.


    Six.


    Gwil pulled his sleeve over what remained of his hand, trying to prevent more of it from leaking away. Then he tried to help Brock get up.


    But Brock stood on his own, and, rolling and sputtering, pursued his brethren.


    The enemy Taluses were growing wise to the prisoners¡¯ strategy and began spreading out, taking wider angles to try to get around the flank.


    ¡°Yo!¡± Gwil called. He pointed toward the front door of the manor.


    Cort nodded.


    They caught up to Brock as he slammed through the row of Taluses, and then Cort shouted, ¡°Gwil!¡±


    It seemed Cort had forgotten that Gwil only had one hand at the moment, because he tossed him the giant hammer.


    Gwil had also forgotten that he only had one hand. He reached out to catch the shaft of the hammer. The very hefty thing crushed his foot. He squealed and hopped up and down, clutching it.


    Cort, waving his arms like a maniac, screamed at the rest of the escapees, ¡°Run! Get to the manor!¡±


    Brock had knocked two Taluses over; they lay stuck on their backs like turtles.


    As Gwil dragged the hammer along, he wondered how Cort wielded it so easily. He put all his Nirva into his left arm so that he could lift the tremendous weight, which caused the mangled one to start gushing blood again.


    Gwil spun, using the momentum of the hammer¡¯s head, and obliterated the engine of one of the fallen Taluses.


    At the same time, a group of prisoners swarmed the other and mashed its engine with their pickaxes.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    But the remaining four Taluses had broken through and were amidst the mob of escapees.


    Chaos. They fled like ants from beneath an overturned stone. Cort was still shouting about the manor and the door.


    Gwil left Cort¡¯s hammer on the ground and picked up a trident, which he could handle more easily with one hand.


    Cort and the other fighters were forcing their way toward the manor.


    Gwil jumped up onto the nearest Talus¡¯s head and smacked it with the trident, then leapt away as it tried to clobber him.


    He landed on the head of another one. ¡°Wow! The Burger really fucked you guys over. I guess he doesn¡¯t love rocks that much.¡±


    Gwil knew that wasn¡¯t true¡ªthe traces of Nirva told him as much. But he thought it might piss them off.


    It did. All the Taluses forgot about the prisoners and rushed toward Gwil. Brock was right on their heels, lopsided by a lamed leg. His engine spat sparks and smoke.


    ¡°Go away, Brock!¡± Gwil yelled over his shoulder as he ran back to buy his comrades more space.


    ***


    Cort slammed against the manor¡¯s front doors. He gripped both handles, rattled the lever, and then tried to shake the doors off their hinges. The wave that was his fleeing comrades crashed into him, smushing him against the door.


    Leira appeared underfoot, having crawled through the legs of the mob. ¡°Move. You¡¯re doing it wrong,¡± she said, pulling herself up.


    ¡°I¡¯m not doing it wrong!¡± Cort grunted. ¡°It¡¯s locked!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so polite!¡± Leira yelped. ¡°Bust it down.¡±


    Cort adjusted himself to try to get better leverage and, in that moment, heard a thunderous stampede on the other side of the door.


    ¡°Move!¡± he screamed. He threw his arms out wide and plowed through the crowd to drive them out of the way.


    The doors flew open, and statues poured forth. Not big utilitarian ones like Brock, but fancy, ornate sculptures.


    They marched in ranks, like soldiers, but some wrongness afflicted them. They stuttered and spasmed. Twenty, thirty¡­ more.


    Most escapees had spilled out to the sides, but a few fell in the path of the statues. Others tried to drag their comrades out of danger.


    Not one death. ¡°No!¡± Cort screamed.


    He ran into the fray, scooping up two fallen prisoners and tossing them out of the way.


    Brock came charging in, his huge body crashing through the van of the statues before collapsing in their midst. The statues wriggled their way out from under him like cockroaches.


    They crawled over him, beating him with weapons and fists. More and more black smoke billowed out.


    ¡°STOP!¡± Ansoir screeched, running past Cort. ¡°STOP! PLEASE STOP!¡±


    Cort went after him, gagging on the fumes. Ansoir had thrown himself across Brock¡¯s body, his floofy afro bouncing around at the violence of his retching.


    The statues were frozen except for their raised arms, which sputtered mid-attack, as if wrestling against some force.


    Leira and Limmy ran around screaming, directing the scattered prisoners into the now wide-open manor.


    Cort gasped. These things could not attack Ansoir, the heir of Podexia.


    He grabbed Ansoir under the arms and brandished him at the horde of statues like a warding talisman, using him to give the prisoners passage into the manor.


    ¡°Brock! Get up! Please get up!¡±


    As Cort positioned himself in the manor''s doorway, still swinging Ansoir around, he watched Brock try.


    Grimacing, Cort looked away from the fallen Talus to scan the emptying field, hesitant to fully focus on the carnage, terrified at the prospect that they¡¯d betrayed the promise to Isca. But he had to know.


    His heart sank at each glistening puddle of blood that pocked the path. But there were no bodies. Not one death. How? This is impossible.


    Everyone had made it inside except for Gwil. And Brock. The enemy statues piled around the doorway like a flock of feeding pigeons, unable to move against Ansoir.


    ***


    Jackson stomped on Stondemaier¡¯s face.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t they touch your piece of shit son?¡±


    Stondemaier lifted his crumbling head. ¡°See, Ansoir has a¡­ difficult personality. And he tends to treat everyone quite poorly. Knowing this, and knowing that my creations are not without temperament, I have always engendered them with an innate inability to harm my son.¡±


    The sheriff stomped on him again. ¡°Turn it the fuck off or I kill Ophelia.¡±


    ¡°I can only beg that you kill me first,¡± Stondemaier said.


    ¡°Argh!¡±


    ¡°Teddy,¡± Stondemaier rasped. ¡°We should call the Leviathan for aid.¡±


    Jackson laughed, then chugged the rest of his whiskey and slammed the bottle down on Stondemaier¡¯s face. ¡°Someone get this invalid geezer out of my sight before I kill him and destroy our army. Not that it¡¯s worth a single damn, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir,¡± Bart said as he dragged Stondemaier away.


    ***


    Night had fallen. The Martyr¡¯s Wound shone bright, spitting crimson light across the gardens.


    As Gwil danced around with the remaining three Taluses, he realized he was alone in the gardens. Thanks to the light shining through the open manor doors, he could see that his comrades had made it inside.


    A horde of statues was amassed at the entrance, but it looked like Cort and¡­ Ansoir? were somehow holding them at the threshold.


    Gwil smiled as he saw it, written in the Nirva that drove the Taluses. They would not harm the son of the man who loved them so. They would not hurt their brother.


    And then he saw Brock in that pile, struggling, leaking Kaia.


    Gwil sprinted forward, and the Taluses chased after him. He spotted a broken pillar lying along the path to the entrance.


    He repositioned the pillar, then got it rolling ahead of him and used it to plow through the legs of the gathered statues.


    Gwil reached Brock, reinforced his wrists, and started pushing. His reforming hand was soggy and bloated, like pasta left too long in the water, but the bones had grown back.


    The statues gave him a terrible beating. He hunched his shoulders up and lowered his head beneath his arms. Metal and stone cracked against his back¡ªa merciless barrage.


    He kept pushing. Ethereal vapor streamed from his skin as his Nirva blazed against the damage. A tingling numbness stole through his spine. His vision doubled, turned into swirling soup. Turned black.


    Gwil kept pushing.


    Their attacks landed like so many hammers, clapping like thunder against Gwil¡¯s bones. One of the Taluses struck his elbow, and his arm went dead. He pushed with his shoulder.


    He could feel Brock¡¯s piddling attempts to help. And then Brock¡¯s body scraped against a hard surface instead of soft dirt.


    The assault on his body ended. Gwil collapsed.


    His head swam through a storm-churned sea of Yalda¡¯blood. Prismatic foam capped the waves. Countless faces floated in the water, like a school of fish. They screamed in perfect harmony.


    ¡°Stay right there, Ansoir,¡± he heard Cort say. ¡°Don¡¯t move a single fucking millimeter.¡±


    Gwil¡¯s limp form was scooped up and cradled in strong arms. He recognized Leira¡¯s touch on his cheek, cool and soothing. He saw only her eyeflower, abloom against the bloody sea.


    ¡°Is Brock okay?¡± That was Ansoir. ¡°Is he okay?¡±


    Gwil¡¯s eyes flickered open and he winced at some blinding bright light above.


    Gwil turned his head at a thumping sound and saw Brock lying beside him. The Talus was pounding his fist against the floor with the steady rhythm of a drum.


    Gwil sat up and Leira hugged him to her chest to keep him upright. He felt her fingers raking through clumps of blood in his hair.


    Then she clutched him by his cheeks. ¡°Gwil, are you okay? Can you hear me?¡±


    Gwil saw Ansoir standing in the door, looking over his shoulder at Brock. The little lord was smiling. Gwil thought the smile suited his absurd afro better than his usual sneer.


    ¡°Buzzard can fix him up,¡± Gwil tried to say, but he heard himself and it sounded like, ¡°Blerwgwarhugn.¡±


    He raised his arms over his head and arched out his back until it cracked. Sensation flooded through his body. He stretched out his jaw and flicked his tongue around. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s better.¡±


    Leira smiled, and the lotus bud in her eye twitched.


    Gwil¡¯s stomach grumbled like a feral demon. A few of the escapees looked over, likely thinking some wild beast had appeared.


    ¡°Woah,¡± Gwil said, swaying with lightheadedness. ¡°I¡¯m hungry.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Three – A Feast Before the Storm

    Gwil stood up.


    ¡°Wohohugh.¡± And then fell down.


    ¡°Hey, is my brain sticking out anywhere?¡± he asked Leira, who had sort of caught him.


    Her fingernails tickled across his scalp as she checked over his head. ¡°Oh, no!¡± She clamped her hand over her mouth. ¡°Gwil, I can see inside your skull.¡±


    His eyes widened. ¡°Oh, no!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s pitch-black inside, completely empty save for a few cobwebs.¡±


    Gwil laughed, and that made his stomach rumble. ¡°I¡¯m starving.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I could eat,¡± Leira said.


    Cort, who was pacing around, positioning the fighters throughout the manor¡¯s entry hall, leaned down and hissed, ¡°We¡¯re in the middle of a raid on an enemy stronghold.¡±


    ¡°So what?¡± Gwil said. ¡°We have Ansel.¡±


    Ansoir still stood in the doorway with thirty-some frenzied statues bearing down on him. He turned at the mention of his name and Gwil gave him a thumbs up.


    ¡°What are they gonna do?¡± Gwil said. ¡°The statues are useless against us. All they have left is a few normal people and the sheriff.¡± He raised his voice. ¡°I bet everyone is starving, and I bet they¡¯ve got real good food here.¡±


    Some excited chattering broke out at that.


    ¡°Mmm,¡± Leira said. ¡°They probably have gourmet chefs. We¡¯ll make ¡®em cook for us¡ªat knifepoint if we have to.¡±


    ¡°Leira!¡± Gwil said. ¡°We didn¡¯t get to go to the restaurant.¡±


    ¡°Erm, well, I did, actually. I went to four of them.¡±


    Gwil groaned and clutched his stomach. ¡°C¡¯mon, Cort. It¡¯s important that we eat this bastard¡¯s nice food.¡±


    Cort waffled his head back and forth while scowling. ¡°Ansoir. Where¡¯re the kitchens?¡±


    He pointed down the hall without turning around. ¡°That way. Just past the dining hall. I must say, I¡¯m famished myself. I¡¯ve not eaten since breakfast.¡±


    ¡°Go fuck yourself,¡± Cort said.


    Gwil hopped to his feet. ¡°I¡¯ll bring you something, Asnel.¡±


    Leira whistled. ¡°This place is nice.¡± She ran her finger along the jade trim set in the wall¡¯s midpoint.


    The entrance hall was three stories tall. A big, glitzy crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. A grand marble staircase ran up to a landing lined with bookshelves and statues.¡±


    ¡°Shit, are those alive, Ansoir?¡± Cort asked.


    ¡°No, no,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°My father doesn¡¯t give sentience to the statues that will only serve as decorations. That¡¯d be a boring life.¡±


    ¡°You could fit half of Reverie in here,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Huh? What¡¯s¡­ that, Gwil?¡± Leira said, softly and slowly.


    Gwil didn¡¯t hear her, because at the same time, he¡¯d asked, ¡°How many people live here, Ansoir?¡±


    ¡°Just myself and my father, of course,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°Oh, right, and thirty-some slaves.¡±


    Cort kicked at the inside of Ansoir¡¯s ankle and grabbed his shoulders. ¡°Keep your stance wide,¡± he barked. ¡°And your arms up.¡±


    ¡°My muscles are aching,¡± Ansoir whined.


    ¡°Yeah? Well, imagine how pissed off I¡¯ll be if you let the statues through and use that as motivation.¡±


    Leira glared at the horde of statues. ¡°Huh. I wonder why they don¡¯t just break through the wall.¡±


    Cort gasped.


    ¡°Ahh, why would you say that, Leira?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I think we¡¯re safe from that, actually,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°Their critical thinking abilities are lacking, and their problem-solving skills are rudimentary. They often get stuck like this.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not staking our lives on some mumbo-jumbo rock psychology,¡± Cort said. ¡°I¡¯ll stay here. Just don¡¯t take too long. Dammit, Gwil, why¡¯d you leave my hammer out there?¡±


    Gwil started marching down the hall. ¡°C¡¯mon everyone! Let¡¯s go eat!¡± His words triggered a stampede as the escapees rushed down the hall. He called back to Cort and Ansoir. ¡°I¡¯ll bring you guys something really good.¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Leira caught up to him. ¡°Gwil, the other end of the manor is like a giant cave. I came to a party here last night. But that¡¯s where the Burgermeister hangs out. And the sheriff too, I bet.¡±


    ¡°Cool,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I¡¯m gonna waste them both after we eat.¡±


    Gwil gasped upon entering the dining hall. All this space just for eating. The floor was tiled with red-veined onyx. Glowing Kaia orbs lined the walls. There were six long tables, already set with white tablecloths, gleaming golden plates and cutlery, and glistening crystal glasses.


    The prisoners had seated themselves like guests at a perfectly normal but very rowdy dinner party. They were banging on the tables, smashing plates, and guzzling wine out of the bottles that had been set out.


    They laughed like they didn¡¯t have a care in the world, and their eyes glittered as much as anything else in the room.


    ¡°Oooh!¡± Gwil yelled.


    Little robots wheeled between the tables, carrying wine and champagne and water and juice and bread and assortments of hors d¡¯oeurvres. Gwil saw little fish bites and egg things and stuffed mushrooms.


    ¡°What the hell!¡± he yelled.


    ¡°I know!¡± Leira said.


    Gwil ran up to a robot, scooped a little sandwich from its tray, stuffed it into his mouth, and then picked up the robot.


    It had a balancing mechanism in its head that kept the tray upright, but the robot did not seem to enjoy being picked up. Its little wheeled legs spasmed like a frightened animal. Gwil set it back down.


    He went to poke at its stomach, but the robot ignored him, bumping into his leg until he allowed it to move past.


    ¡°Aw man,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯re kind of rude.¡±


    Leira was eating these breaded ring-shaped things which she¡¯d stacked onto each of her fingers. She tried to say something, and then swallowed and tried again. ¡°I don¡¯t think those little guys have anything like minds. They can¡¯t do anything besides their jobs. They¡¯re more like tools than animals.¡±


    Gwil snatched up two trays and brought them to an open spot at a table.


    ¡°There are robots that can talk and stuff though,¡± Leira assured him as she sat down.


    ¡°What¡¯s crazy is the food is even better than the robots,¡± Gwil said through a mouthful. ¡°Do you think those little things are cooking this stuff? We should steal a couple.¡±


    Cheeks bulging like a squirrel, Leira nodded as she popped open a bottle of champagne.


    ***


    ¡°I can¡¯t fuckin¡¯ believe they¡¯re eating dinner,¡± Jackson said, cackling. ¡°That kid is somethin¡¯ else! I¡¯m half-tempted to let him run riot across the World and watch the shitshow.¡± He took a big swig of whiskey. ¡°But scratching my chopper, that¡¯s unforgiveable. And destroying the Kaia, too. That pissed me off a lot. Stondemaier!¡±


    ¡°Looks like he¡¯s asleep, boss,¡± Toothpick said.


    So he was. Jackson went to stand over the pile of rubble. Stondemaier slept with his head on the chest of his farcical wife. Ophelia tracked Jackson with her lifeless stone eyes. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and loosed a piercing whistle.


    Stondemaier¡¯s gravelly body crackled as he twisted around in panic. His eyes flickered open, and they were even duller than Ophelia¡¯s.


    Seeing such pitiful cluelessness made the sheriff wanna get violent.


    ¡°Alright, Stony, this has gone on long enough.¡± He turned to Bart and said, ¡°Give me that hammer.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Bart said.


    Jackson raised the hammer. ¡°If you don¡¯t make it so those fuckin¡¯ statues can squash your son like the insect he is, she dies. Three¡­¡±


    Stondemaier set his jaw. Crazy old bastard.


    ¡°Two¡­¡±


    ¡°One¡­¡±


    Stondemaier¡¯s jaw burst open like a dam, and he started hacking up bits of rock. ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    The cracks in his scaly skin began to glow.


    ¡°Aye, that¡¯s what the fuck I thought,¡± Jackson said. ¡°That little idiot ain¡¯t worth a damn.¡±


    ***


    Cort sat at the foot of the stairs; head bowed between his legs. He smiled at the lively clangor echoing down the hall.


    ¡°Erm, Cortemius?¡± Ansoir said. ¡°Might I implore you to come hold my arms up?¡±


    ¡°Eh? Did she put you up to-¡± Then Cort rushed him.


    Ansoir turned at the sound of his footsteps and yelled, ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡±


    Cort dove and tackled him to the ground.


    The horde of statues poured into the manor, with three of the big Taluses bringing up the rear. The door frame collapsed as they burst through.


    Cort covered himself and Ansoir as much as he could, but really, he was just preparing to be beaten to death. Too many. No escape.


    But the statues rushed past them, frenzied as horses on the whip. They scattered down the hallways and up the stairs. The big ones demolished the paths that were too narrow to accommodate them.


    Cort sat up. Not a single Talus remained in the entrance hall, though the entire manor shook at their rampage.


    Ansoir sobbed as he brushed off his jacket.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, and then he began scratching his tongue with his fingernails as if trying to scrape off the word. ¡°I thought we were dead.¡±


    ¡°Same,¡± Cort said. ¡°And I was pretty pissed at myself for coming to save you.¡±


    ¡°Why did they attack me? Oh, gods. Does that mean my father is dead?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t he a Hallow? Bringing those things to life is an Invoke, yeah?¡±


    Ansoir nodded.


    ¡°Then he¡¯s obviously not fucking dead,¡± Cort said. ¡°Or the statues would¡¯ve died with him. Use your head for once.¡±


    Ansoir began tamping down sections of his bulbous afro, deep in thought. ¡°Well, the Taluses get very antsy when they cannot complete a task. I expect the order they¡¯re following is something simple like, ¡®kill the escaped slaves¡¯ or ¡®end the uprising.¡¯ My father has lost his capacity to issue more complex orders on such a large scale. My best guess is that they are desperate to find the bulk of you slaves and ignored us, since there¡¯s only two of us.¡± He gasped. ¡°The sheriff must be torturing my father¡ªthat¡¯s what happened!¡±


    Madness was devouring the manor. Screams, crashes, shattering glass, as constant as a waterfall. A lot of the Taluses had gone toward the dining hall.


    Cort was about to go charging after them, but no. Gwil will have things under control. He needed to cover their bases and see the things that Gwil would miss.


    ¡°Where are they? The sheriff and your father.¡±


    ¡°The throne room, definitely,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°It¡¯s very well fortified. Please, you must understand¡ªthe sheriff is the one that needs to be stopped. My father is completely out of his mind. He¡¯s old and sick. His sole desire is delighting that heinous abomination of my mother. Her greatest joy in life was throwing splendid parties, you see, so that¡¯s all he does, as if trying to stoke a spark in that stone mockery. Though I must say-¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up, man,¡± Cort said. ¡°I don¡¯t care about your familial problems. Your father controls the Taluses. That needs to be addressed. One way or another.¡±


    Ansoir crawled over to where Brock lay, still sizzling with Kaia and leaking noxious smoke.


    His pulse thumping in his ears, Cort pressed his palms against his temples. The World was like a big cairn that had been stacked by an idiot¡ªfragile, full of vulnerabilities. And everything that happened affected everything else. One loose stone could topple the whole thing.


    ¡°That¡¯s it. I¡¯m getting my hammer.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Four – Let Them Eat Cake

    ¡°Oh shit!¡± Gwil spilled his spaghetti on his lap as he leapt out of his seat.


    No one heard the noise because of their partying. But Gwil saw their essence through the wall.


    A horde of Taluses was marching down the hall.


    ¡°Get out of the way!¡±


    Everyone scrambled as Gwil flipped over the table nearest to the entrance. The tabletop was a sturdy slab of marble.


    A few of his comrades helped Gwil push it to block the door. There were a lot of statues, maybe fifty. Hopefully Cort and Ansoir are okay.


    ¡°Wait, I have an idea.¡± Gwil snatched a pickaxe out of someone¡¯s hands. Flaring Nirva, he slammed the axe down on the joint of the table¡¯s thick, pedestal-style leg. The wood splintered, and a second swing fully snapped the leg off.


    ¡°Get the other tables,¡± he shouted. ¡°Break off all the legs!¡±


    If they stacked all the marble slabs together, they¡¯d have a formidable barrier.


    His companions piled themselves against the slab as the statues thundered closer. Gwil pulled himself up the table¡¯s edge to look through the gap at the top of the doorframe.


    He¡¯d meant to get a better look at what they were up against and received a metal fist to the jaw. Gwil spat out one of his teeth, wondered if it would grow back, reached into the throng and started swinging the pickaxe in a mad flurry.


    Amidst a storm of chipped stone bits, the Taluses pounded against the barrier. Cracks were forming.


    ***


    ¡°I can help with that,¡± Leira said. She twisted the knobs on her flamethrower to the low end and then aimed at an empty space.


    Twisting the throttle unleashed a narrow beam of crimson fire. It burned a hole right through the wall. Leira scribbled her name as a smoldering cutout in the wall as easily as she¡¯d write it on a piece of paper.


    That bastard. Buzzard had definitely understated the capabilities of this weapon.


    Leira shooed the escapees away from the table they¡¯d been carrying and had them crouch behind it to both shield themselves and keep it upright.


    She sheared the leg off like she was cutting a block of cheese and then moved to the next one.


    They created a hasty sort of assembly line. When Leira finished with the first table, a group of the escapees carried it over to the door and positioned it against the first one. Just in time¡ªa piece of that one had broken off, and statue limbs were reaching through the hole.


    A different group brought her the next table, and in less than three minutes, they¡¯d stacked all six slabs in front of the doorway.


    Gwil, who was lying on top of the stack, jumped down. His face looked like a raisin, all purple and swollen.


    ¡°Okay,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll hold them here. You all run.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you! We ain¡¯t running!¡± yelled Limmy.


    Leira smiled. She liked Limmy. The woman had green lips and wore hoop piercings in her eyelids, and she didn¡¯t take any bullshit.


    ¡°We¡¯re here to kill or die!¡± shouted someone else.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mean run away,¡± Gwil said. He took a spot alongside the others who were pushing against the barrier and added his strength to theirs. ¡°I mean go run wild! Tear this place down. Go find a car and drive it up that big staircase.¡±


    The escapees cheered and went off to raise hell. Some went through the door on the other end of the dining hall, others burst through the crumbling section of the wall that Leira had burned¡ªwhich led outdoors¡ªand a few went through the swinging doors that led to the kitchens.


    The only ones who remained were those who held the barrier with Gwil. The statues pounded against it, an unending clap of thunder.


    ¡°Get outta here guys,¡± Gwil said to them.


    ¡°Are you crazy? You go. We need you to fight.¡±


    ¡°Go kill Burgermeister Jaqlov and that cowboy fucker.¡±


    Gwil¡¯s grin was small against his swollen cheeks, though the swelling was already subsiding. Leira could see the healing actively happening.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But these statues come first.¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Actually, Gwil,¡± Leira said. She held up her flamethrower. ¡°I think I have an idea for this little problem.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You all clear out¡ªyou saw what Leira did to that big drill machine.¡±


    They scurried away and Gwil shifted himself to better cover the barrier. Leira swallowed against a foul taste and cranked up the knobs on the flamethrower.


    ¡°Leira, what¡¯d you think of Doctor Buzzard?¡± Gwil asked as he watched her fiddle with the device, nonplussed by the furious pounding at his back.


    ¡°That he¡¯s a dangerous asshole,¡± she said. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ I think he really wants to fix everything, but there¡¯s just so many problems that it makes him crazy. He¡¯s too smart.¡±


    Leira laughed. ¡°He did offer to look after all the escapees earlier. Kind of.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Gwil said. ¡°Phew. I was worried about that. I don¡¯t wanna deal with so many people. It¡¯s way too much responsibility. Hey, what are you gonna do with that fire-spitter? Won¡¯t it be a bad mix with the Kaia?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m banking on,¡± Leira said. ¡°The engines don¡¯t have that much Kaia in them, and it''s refined, so I don¡¯t think the explosion will be too big, but it should be enough to fuck up the statues.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, don¡¯t worry,¡± Leira said. ¡°You and I won¡¯t get killed by something silly like that.¡±


    ¡°Huh? I wasn¡¯t worried. I was just asking.¡±


    Leira poked her tongue out, squinting to read the numbers and labels and gauges. Truth be told, none of it meant anything to her. She¡¯d just cranked everything up all the way.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s ready,¡± she said. ¡°But it¡¯s probably not safe to test it, so let¡¯s just go for it.¡± She gestured for Gwil to get up. ¡°Let me stand on your shoulders.¡±


    He stood and planted one hand against the barrier. With the other, he helped her climb up. She steadied herself and then pulled herself up to look over the barrier.


    ¡°Oh shit, that¡¯s a lot of statues.¡± Some were headless, a smoke spewed from others. They were like livestock crammed in a pen, going berserk as they awaited the slaughter. ¡°Perfect.¡±


    Leira adjusted herself so that she could crouch behind the marble and use it as shielding. She held the flamethrower over her head, aimed it, and twisted the throttle.


    An inferno worthy of the Seventh Hell was unleashed.


    Leira¡¯s eyeflower withered and curled inward. Her hair sizzled.


    Perhaps the Taluses had some sense of self-preservation, because they stopped pounding on the barrier. Leira clenched her teeth as the searing heat scalded her hands.


    The flames roared like a horde of demons. The wall surrounding the door caught fire.


    A flicker of silence marked the first Kaia detonation. Chunks of the ceiling collapsed. The blaze devoured the hallway.


    ¡°Leira!¡± Gwil shouted.


    She ignored him, ignored the white-hot knives flaying her hands. Just a little longer.


    Debris fell on them and whips of fire lashed out. The successive spells of silence were maddening¡ªeach a false reprieve dangled and then snatched away, like having her head repeatedly dunked in water.


    She could not breathe. The World was a pendulum, swinging between nothingness and destruction.


    Gwil staggered beneath her as the flame-engulfed wall crumbled. Only then did Leira release the throttle.


    Gwil caught her in his arms and dashed away as the ceiling fully caved. They crossed to the far end of the room.


    All the Kaia lights in the dining hall had shattered. The firelight cast the room as a hellish place.


    Gwil laid her down on the floor and wrapped his fingers around her wrists.


    Her hands were screaming red and glistening, covered with bubbling and burst blisters. Browned blood and pus dribbled over ruined skin.


    Gwil scrunched his face up. ¡°Oh, Leira, what¡­¡± he trailed off. His grip tightened around her wrists, and she felt a pins-and-needles sensation.


    It took a moment for her to realize that he was trying to heal her. It doesn¡¯t work that way, Gwil. She couldn¡¯t bring herself to say it, but she didn¡¯t need to. He knew. He was trying anyway.


    Jaw quivering, Leira shook her head and made the crumbly lotus bud twitch. ¡°Once this thing blooms, I can weep an ointment. I¡¯ve had worse burns. It¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you let me do that?¡±


    Leira shrugged. The movement made her lose the fight against the weepiness that was wrenching at her face. Tears seeped out of her squeezed-shut eye, and she made a noise that was half-laugh, half sob. ¡°I didn¡¯t think of it!¡±


    The fire¡¯s roar had diminished to a persistent crackle cut through with crashes.


    Gwil brushed the hair out of her face. She heard the burnt strands crinkle. Ashy bits dusted her nose.


    ¡°I wish one of us had,¡± he said.


    ¡°Yeah, you idiot!¡± And then she couldn¡¯t stop wailing. ¡°It really fucking hurts!¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s some cake on the floor over there. Would that help?¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± she whimpered.


    ***


    Gwil went to get her the cake, but first he peeked down the hall. It had been turned into a flaming canyon of ruin, flooded with mounds of burning rubble. A thick column of smoke poured into the dining hall.


    He crouched to look up into the ceiling. The three floors above had all crashed down. But the manor¡¯s stone skeleton stood strong against the fire.


    Pocking the piles of rubble were strange circles of evisceration, clean-cut and perfect. Those wounds were glassy and black, completely empty¡ªtiny whispers of the crater that Isca had made of the mountain.


    Statue limbs stuck out at odd angles all throughout. None so much as twitched.


    He went back to the fallen cake and shoveled it back onto the platter. As Gwil fixed up a tray of hors d''oeuvres for Cort and Ansoir, a smoldering ceiling beam slammed down beside him, and he decided he¡¯d better hurry.


    Balancing the two trays, he brought the cake back to Leira.


    Gwil set it down next to her and, despite her injuries, Leira plunged her hands into the three-tiered cake and began stuffing her face.


    She nodded at him and said, ¡°¡¯Oo ¡®av some tuh.¡±


    They were both grabbing handfuls of the giant cake and cramming their mouths full. It had more layers than Gwil could count¡ªchocolate, nuts, whipped cream, normal cream, fruit.


    ¡°¡¯Oly shuh,¡± he said. ¡°¡¯O gud!¡±


    Leira nodded and then started laughing, which sprayed flecks of cake from her mouth. That made Gwil laugh and do the same.


    He wiped his hands off on a nearby tablecloth. The dining hall, with its stone floor, mostly resisted the fire, but flames were crawling across the ceiling toward them.


    ¡°How are your hands?¡± Gwil asked.


    With a loud gulp, she managed to swallow. ¡°The icing is really soothing,¡± she said, holding up her caked hands.


    Gwil watched the fire as Leira wiped her face off on the tablecloth¡ªshe left her hands sheathed with icing.


    ¡°I think we¡¯d better go to the kitchens,¡± he said. ¡°Some of the others went that way, but I think the fire¡¯s gonna spread there.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, okay.¡± Leira stood and poked Gwil in the chest. ¡°I¡¯ll kill that stupid scientist. I swear I will.¡±


    ¡°I dunno,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re the one who keeps destroying stuff.¡±


    Leira laughed. ¡°It was more fun with statues than people, at least.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Five – Come With Me

    Gwil picked up the tray of hors d''oeuvres and they crossed the burning, smoke-filled dining hall.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Leira said. ¡°If the statues came for us, do you think that means Ansoir is dead?¡±


    ¡°No way,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Cort was with him.¡±


    They heard voices coming from the kitchens. Leira pushed the door open for Gwil and he almost dropped the tray upon seeing thirty people inside.


    About half were escapees, but there was also a gaggle of people that Gwil didn¡¯t recognize. They weren¡¯t guards¡ªmost wore fancy black dress clothes. A few had white mushroom hats.


    ¡°Gwil! Flower lady!¡± the escapees cheered.


    The kitchen was full of metal tables and stacks of cooking-related implements. The lights were still on in here, and it was very bright with the white tile walls and all the polished surfaces.


    The strangers, who Gwil had deduced were servants of the manor, sat huddled on the floor, surrounded by the escapees. They had not been bound or beaten, so that was good.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Gwil said as he entered. ¡°You guys know there¡¯s a big fire out there, yeah?¡±


    Limmy stepped forward. She had an array of kitchen knives slotted into an apron that she wore over her jumpsuit.


    ¡°Aye, we know it,¡± she said. ¡°But we found these folks hiding in here.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re liberating them,¡± a man called.


    ¡°Shut up, Jerruh,¡± Limmy hissed. ¡°You were tryna kill them at first.¡±


    Jerruh grinned a nasty grin. ¡°Oh, come on, we were just getting acquainted. And that was before I knew they were slaves, too.¡±


    ¡°I stopped anyone from getting violent, Gwil,¡± Limmy said, hands on her hips. ¡°After seeing what you did for that little bitch lordling, I thought you¡¯d be mad if we hurt them.¡±


    ¡°Nice,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t kill them.¡±


    ¡°They kind of look like hostages,¡± Leira said, pointing with her cake-covered hand.


    A mushroom-hatted lady cried out, ¡°We¡¯re scared! You¡¯re all about to get killed. You blew up the Kaia for fuck¡¯s sake! The sheriff is going to flay all of us in the town square.¡±


    ¡°Ooh! You guys cooked all the food! Thanks!¡± Gwil said.


    Leira sucked some icing off her thumb and gave the kitchen staff a thumbs up.


    ¡°Earned ¡®em some points with me,¡± Jerruh said.


    ¡°Damn,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I was hoping the robots cooked it.¡±


    ¡°Gwil, they don¡¯t even have arms,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°You guys are free though,¡± Gwil said to the cooks. ¡°Chateau Podunk is no more.¡±


    ¡°Is Burgermeister Jaqlov dead?¡± one of them asked.


    Gwil scratched his head. ¡°It looks like it¡¯s headed that way.¡±


    ¡°Who cares?¡± Leira called over her shoulder. She was washing her hands off in a sink. ¡°This kitchen is literally about to go up in flames.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, if you stay here, you¡¯ll just die, so don¡¯t be so wimpy.¡± Gwil stepped into their huddle and pulled two people up onto their feet. He gestured for the others to stand. ¡°Limmy, take care of these people¡ªno matter what.¡±


    Limmy cracked her knuckles. ¡°You can count on me.¡±


    Leira came back to the group, now wearing a pair of oven mitts. ¡°What other parts of the manor can we get to from here?¡±


    ¡°Just about everywhere,¡± a chef said. ¡°There¡¯re service hallways that go throughout the whole manor.¡±


    ¡°Even to the caves with the throne room?¡± Leira asked.


    The chef nodded.


    ¡°Go find the others,¡± Gwil told Limmy. ¡°I think a lot of them went outside, but they could be anywhere.¡±


    ¡°We can help you find your way,¡± said a tuxedoed waiter.


    Gwil placed his hands on Limmy¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You can¡¯t let anyone die.¡±


    ¡°I know it,¡± she said. She broke away from him and barked, ¡°Follow me, people! If anyone dies, you¡¯ll have me to answer to, so don¡¯t.¡± She grabbed the servant who¡¯d spoken up and shoved him out in front.


    They all fell in line behind Limmy and marched through a different set of doors at the far end of the kitchen. Gwil and Leira brought up the rear.


    ¡°The cave is at the other end?¡± Gwil asked.


    Leira nodded. ¡°But we should check on Cort and Ansoir.¡±


    They entered the service halls¡ªempty, with rough stone walls and intermittent Kaia lights hanging from the ceiling. Black bits of dust flitted about the glowing globes, playing tricks with tiny shadows.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Their comrades went off to the right. Gwil and Leira went left, back toward the entrance hall.


    ¡°The sheriff¡¯s the one to get, Gwil,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if Ansoir¡¯s father even knows what decade it is.¡±


    ¡°He built this place, Leira. To me, that¡¯s unforgivable. But it doesn¡¯t matter what I think.¡±


    ***


    After getting only a little bit lost, Gwil and Leira made it back to the manor¡¯s entrance hall, finding it heaped with ruin. The marble staircase lay in broken chunks and the balcony to which it led had collapsed.


    The fire hadn¡¯t spread here yet, but it still stank of smoke. Dust hung thick in the air, and their feet crunched over bits of glass and wooden splinters as they crossed the room.


    Ansoir nearly jumped to the ceiling upon hearing their approach.


    ¡°What the bloody hell happened?¡± he squealed. ¡°I thought you¡¯d all gone for dinner. My manor is on fire! I almost got crushed by the chandelier.¡±


    The crystalline absurdity had crashed down and shattered into a million glittering pieces. Its bent framework was tragic in the way it clung to its last few jewels.


    ¡°It was an eyesore anyway,¡± Leira said.


    Gwil handed Ansoir the tray of hors d''oeuvres and then went to kneel beside the fallen Talus. ¡°Alright, Brock?¡±


    He managed a nod.


    ¡°Good,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We¡¯ll be back soon. Come on, Ansler. We need to hurry.


    Ansoir whimpered in response. He had set the tray down to chew on his fingernails.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Cortemius gone?¡± Leira said, looking around as if he might pop out from a pile of rubble.


    ¡°That insolent scumbag abandoned me here! I haven¡¯t a clue where he went. More importantly, have you two seen Diom? We got separated when the Taluses came. I thought he must have gone with you to your little banquet, but¡­¡± He resumed biting his fingernail.


    Gwil and Leira exchanged a look. Diom hadn¡¯t been in the dining hall with them.


    Leira picked up a deviled egg¡ªwhich had some small splinters of wood in its filling¡ªand stuffed it into Ansoir¡¯s mouth. Then she clapped him on the back and said, ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯s fine. Can you tell us how to get to the throne room through those service halls?¡±


    Ansoir sneered with such disgust that it pulled him out of his fretting. ¡°The service halls? I¡¯ve never stepped foot in that maze. It¡¯s filthy.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re coming with us,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°What?¡± Leira said. ¡°Uh, Gwil?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not just gonna keep hiding here,¡± Gwil said. ¡°This is your home, Antler. You won¡¯t be able to live with yourself.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Ansoir, you imbecile. Ansoir. I¡¯d spell it for you if I believed there was even a chance that you¡¯re literate.¡±


    Leira cackled.


    ¡°There, see?¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re all fired up. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t want to leave Brock,¡± Ansoir said. ¡°And I need to find Diom. He must be a hundred years old. He can¡¯t be wandering around on his own. The fire¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re crazy if you think they want you to sit here and chew your fingers off,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Right, Brock?¡±


    Brock nodded again.


    ¡°Alright, yeah,¡± Leira said. ¡°It¡¯s time for a brand-new Ansoir.¡± She grabbed Ansoir¡¯s shoulders with her mittened hands and steered him toward the service hall.


    Gwil followed and called to Brock, ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Leira shoved Ansoir through the door and then slammed it shut, closing him inside. He started pounding on the door, shouting things like, ¡°You dirty-blooded slaves!¡±


    ¡°Gwil!¡± Leira hissed. ¡°He¡¯s gonna get killed.¡± She pointed at her withered eyeflower. ¡°Remember, I can¡¯t fight or do anything to protect him. You were supposed to be protecting me!¡±


    ¡°Cort will be there,¡± Gwil said. ¡°If Ansoir doesn¡¯t do this, he¡¯ll be whiny and broken forever. And I¡¯m gonna trash the sheriff this time, so it doesn¡¯t matter. I know his tricks, and I think I have a good one of my own.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re gonna make Ansoir watch you kill his father?¡±


    ¡°I hope not.¡±


    ¡°Whatever you say¡­¡± Leira opened the door. ¡°Sorry, Ansoir, I slipped. The door got stuck.¡± She held up her oven mitts. ¡°I¡¯m injured.¡±


    ***


    Cort hawked up some rancid phlegm and spat as he jogged around to the back of the manor, his great hammer resting on his shoulder. There was an equipment yard back there, and a big warehouse. He reckoned he might find something interesting. They sure as hell needed it.


    He knew Gwil would just run in¡ªheadfirst and blind as a bat. That was the height of foolishness. Anyone with half a brain would¡¯ve recognized that they were playing right into the sheriff¡¯s hand.


    Scratch that¡ªif any of them had any brains at all, they would¡¯ve been satisfied with getting free and destroying the Kaia. They would¡¯ve taken the win and gotten the hell out. And they sure as shit wouldn¡¯t have gone double or nothing.


    Yet here we are. They didn¡¯t really have a choice, did they? You don¡¯t maim a beast and then give it time to lick its wounds. Not a beast that had made you watch as it massacred your brothers and sisters. The debt was far from paid.


    Dammit. Cort spat again. This is madness. He didn¡¯t know what Isca saw in those two, but he felt it.


    That idiot just kept marching forward, and they¡¯d all fallen in behind him without a second thought.


    Isca. She didn¡¯t have a choice either. Everyone is a puppet, pulled by strings they can¡¯t feel, dancing to music they can¡¯t hear.


    Cort tried to take the World for what it was: a shitstorm of chaos. It wasn¡¯t enough to just tip the scales. He¡¯d smash them, and the table they stood on, too. What else was a big hammer good for?


    He heard voices and slowed down.


    Cort spotted them through the trees. A few of the escapees were messing around with a fountain in the gardens. He shook his head. They were swimming in the pool. They were goddamn frolicking.


    What a shitshow. His comrades were running wild all over the place, with no direction at all. Half the manor had burst into flames, for fuck¡¯s sake.


    Cort came to the unfinished half of the manor that housed the throne room and ran his hand along the rough stone as he made his way around. There were no windows, just a few sturdy, garage-style doors made of thick metal. But he had an idea brewing. He intended to make quite an entrance.


    When he reached the edge of the manor, the warehouse came into view. He hurried along, but as he crossed the clearing, Cort got the sense that he was being watched.


    He whipped around and glimpsed movement within a cluster of hedges.


    Definitely a Podexian. A prisoner wouldn¡¯t hide from him. Cort hoisted his hammer and barreled toward the bushes.


    ¡°Good heavens, stop! It¡¯s me!¡±


    Cort stuttered to a halt and pulled the branches back. ¡°Diom! What the hell are you doing? Get out of there.¡±


    Cort helped the old man extract himself from the thicket. He was covered in leaves and little scratches.


    ¡°Leave me be, Cortemius,¡± Diom said. ¡°I must speak with Burgermeister Stondemaier. I must honor the wishes of my dead friends.¡±


    ¡°Argh! My name¡¯s not fu-¡± Cort grabbed Diom and threw him over his other shoulder. ¡°This is the second time I¡¯ve had to stop you from killing yourself, you stupid old man.¡±


    Cort grimaced at how frail Diom felt, like an empty grain sack. The old man pounded his weak fists against Cort¡¯s back and flailed like a fish on a hook.


    ¡°You¡¯re too young to understand,¡± Diom wheezed. ¡°I am glad to die for this cause.¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Cort said. ¡°You¡¯re not allowed to die yet. Get a taste of freedom before you keel over.¡±


    ¡°I will never be free!¡± Diom cried.


    That was a knife in the gut. Cort stopped and set Diom down on the ground. ¡°Dammit, would you calm down? I¡¯m gonna bring you to Jaqlov.¡±


    ¡°You are?¡± Diom asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s where I was headed. But I¡¯m not stupid enough to walk in there with nothing but hope and a plucky attitude. Fucking hell. I¡¯m surrounded by lunatics.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Six – Knock, Knock

    ¡°Oh, merciful Tartarus,¡± Cort said. ¡°This is better than I hoped.¡±


    They¡¯d broken into the warehouse. Standing before them was an excavator tank that made the one from the mines look like a child¡¯s toy.


    It had huge conical drills on both ends, like a twin-headed stag beetle. Bladed grinders lined the sides. The tops of the treads were level with Cort¡¯s chest. The whole thing was a gnarled mass of destructive instruments.


    ¡°I¡¯d keep your excitement in check,¡± Diom rasped. ¡°It might not be operational.¡±


    Cort ran his finger along one of the blades. ¡°Nah, she¡¯ll operate the hell out of that little castle.¡±


    However, the tank was undoubtedly a work in progress, or more likely an abandoned project. The flaw of note was that it did not have a hull. All its guts and mechanisms were exposed.


    The framework was mostly complete, but with no plating, it was like a skeleton with no flesh. Cort thought of the dune runners favored by desert raiders.


    ¡°And you were preaching to me about being reckless,¡± Diom said with a wheezy chuckle. ¡°The young never realize how lucky they¡¯ve been. It¡¯ll hit hard when you learn you¡¯re not invincible."


    Cort wasn¡¯t listening to the old man. He¡¯d stuck his head into the innards of the excavator to marvel at the mess of circuitry and whatever else.


    As he removed himself, his shirt caught on something. A piece broke off and fell clattering into the bowels of the tank.


    Cort grimaced at Diom. ¡°At least it¡¯s unlocked.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be crushed by falling rocks,¡± Diom said.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna slap a roof on it,¡± Cort said, looking around the warehouse. Power tools and pieces of scrap metal were scattered all over the place. ¡°You check on the Kaia engine. You know how to do that?¡±


    Diom wheezed. ¡°Watch yourself, boy. I¡¯d been working on these machines for decades by the time you were born.¡±


    ***


    ¡°I can¡¯t see, dammit,¡± Cort said. ¡°Twist yourself around.¡±


    ¡°Twist around?¡± Diom laughed his broken-glass laugh. ¡°Do you know how old I am? Do you know how crooked my spine is? I¡¯ve swung a pickaxe more times than you¡¯ve drawn breath. Twist around¡­ Bah!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s great,¡± Cort said. ¡°But I still can¡¯t see.¡±


    Diom had gotten the engine working, which was a relief. But the tank was, unfortunately, a single seater.


    It was actually a blessing that the hull was uncovered. Cort¡¯s shoulders stuck partway out of the cockpit, and he would not have fit at all without that allowance. Diom was only able to sit on Cort¡¯s lap because he was half withered away.


    ¡°Maybe you should let me drive,¡± Diom said.


    ¡°How would that work?¡± Cort snapped. ¡°Just keep your head out of my face.¡±


    Cort had attached a¡­ serviceable roof to the top of the tank. It consisted of three layers of sheet metal and about a hundred screws. In his defense, they were in a big fucking hurry, and he didn¡¯t know what he was doing.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± Cort said. ¡°We¡¯re not actually digging a tunnel, just busting through a wall.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything,¡± Diom said.


    ¡°Dammit,¡± Cort muttered under his breath. He tapped the makeshift roof for good luck. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m gonna be pissed if Gwil gets there before us. Hold tight, old man.¡±


    Cort pressed the ignition button.


    The tank shuddered as the engine whined and chugged and glugged, belching smoke from a bouquet of exhaust pipes. After a long moment, something caught.


    The tank roared to life. Pistons pumping, valves hissing, meaningless gauges spinning¡ªa symphony of madness.


    Cort cranked two of the shifters, pressed the pedal with his foot, and the thing stalled, accompanied by an ear-splitting grinding sound.


    Diom adjusted one of the shifters that Cort had pulled, and the cacophonous sound gave way to a steady purr of ruthless mechanical goodness.


    The tank lurched forward, faster than he¡¯d been expecting. Before Cort had the chance to try to slow down, they¡¯d plowed through the warehouse¡¯s garage door like it was a piece of paper.


    ¡°It¡¯s working!¡± Cort shouted over the noise. His skull buzzed with the vibrations.


    Cort fought with the steering lever, sending them swiveling out of control, but he wrangled it after a minute. He could see where he was going at least, thanks to all the gaping holes.


    They rumbled through the yard, smooth as could be. The manor was right up ahead. Isca would¡¯ve been happy with this.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Cort hit the accelerator.


    ¡°Slow down!¡± Diom said. ¡°And don¡¯t go to the door. I know the best spot.¡± He pointed toward a depression in the back of the building. ¡°Get the drill spinning.¡±


    ***


    Gwil tore through the halls, his boots splashing through sludgy puddles. The lights swung overhead, sending their shadows spinning.


    ¡°You¡¯re going the wrong way!¡± Leira called, gasping for breath. ¡°Gwil, stop!¡±


    She couldn¡¯t keep up with his speed, nor his maddeningly poor sense of direction. He took every turn and threw open every door.


    Leira knew they¡¯d already come this way three or four times. They¡¯d been running for ages. This manor was not even that big!


    She clutched at a stitch in her side¡ªshe¡¯d eaten too much for all this running¡ªand slowed down. Ansoir had been behind her, shouting and complaining, but she couldn¡¯t hear him anymore.


    Leira took a moment to realize that they¡¯d escaped the concrete service halls and emerged in the caves.


    Gwil stopped and Leira crashed into his back. He caught her by the arm to keep her from falling over.


    At the end of this passage, illuminated by a globe of light, was the vault-door that led into the throne room.


    Was that only yesterday that I was in here? Fucking hell.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Gwil said. He crouched down. ¡°My shoe¡¯s untied.¡±


    ¡°Are you serious?¡± Leira hissed.


    Gwil fixed her with a look. ¡°I don¡¯t want to trip and fall.¡±


    They heard Ansoir coming before they saw him, his footsteps clapping through the echoey tunnel. He reached them and doubled over, huffing and puffing.


    ¡°I¡¯d¡­ been¡­ trying¡­¡± He paused to catch his breath. ¡°To tell you where to go the entire time! And warn you¡­ about the door. How do you intend to open it?¡±


    Gwil scratched at the top of his head. ¡°Yeah, that is a nice door.¡±


    He went right up to the door and stared at it as if it were some unfathomable puzzle.


    Leira hung back, fear prickling her neck. Surrounded by stone, she thought of how they¡¯d been ambushed by the Taluses. She moved through the tunnel, her fingers brushing the rough wall, and felt certain that a horde was about to erupt from within.


    A tremor ran through her fingers, seeming to confirm her fears. She leapt back. ¡°Gwil!¡±


    ¡°I hear it,¡± he said.


    No shit he heard it. In an instant, the inaudible rumbling had warped into violent shaking. Dust and bits of rock crumbled out of the ceiling.


    ***


    ¡°Right there!¡± Diom said. He pointed at a crevice in the rock face with a timid finger, lest it be shredded by the deathtrap of the tank¡¯s exposed machinery.


    Cort maneuvered to line the drill up.


    ¡°That¡¯s a wall of the throne room,¡± Diom shouted, leaning back so he could yell in Cort¡¯s ear. His flabby cheeks were flapping with the tank¡¯s rumbling. ¡°They¡¯ll be right there.¡±


    Cort cranked the drill up to full speed, and then clenched his teeth and feathered the accelerator.


    With a screech, the blurred tip of the drill made contact with the wall. Cort floored it and then raised an arm against the hailstorm of rock shards.


    ¡°Ease back!¡± Diom rasped, flailing his hands. ¡°Let it bite first.¡±


    ***


    Sheriff Jackson stood with his thumbs through his belt loops, watching as cracks formed in the wall. He spat out his lip of chew and then cheeked a fresh one. The sockets of his knocked-out teeth tingled at the fresh nicotine.


    ¡°Un-fuckin-believable.¡±


    His men ran around the throne room, panicking, taking up positions, barking orders at each other and at the Taluses.


    The sheriff just stared at the wall. The dark orange light of sunset leaked through the cracks.


    It didn¡¯t much matter what all the boys did. Only one fight mattered. Fate has eyes for titans, not insects.


    Jackson was surprised at how badly he wanted to live. Surprised, and a little disgusted. When I was a boy¡­


    Pa was a bandit. A shit one. A good for nothin¡¯ lout without a speck of ambition. Dumb as a brick. One day, Pa stole from the wrong folks.


    It was Pa, some local moron he¡¯d been working with, and me, all of seven years old. We were camping out in the woods when those wrong folks came hunting. It was sunset. Always fuckin¡¯ sunset.


    Those men that came for us were scary. Real killers. They worked for the local baron.


    Before they even showed themselves, a bolt ripped through what¡¯s-his-name¡¯s throat.


    I guess they knew Pa was a joke, ¡®cause they walked right up and sat down with us around the fire. They laughed and drank our booze and ate our food.


    I told Pa that he needed to fight. At least bring someone down with you. Don¡¯t die sitting on your ass. Even animals have more respect for themselves than that.


    Pa knew he was dead meat no matter what, but that sad motherfucker still begged for his life, all blubbering and snotty.


    He even offered me up to them as a slave. The sack of shit wanted to cling to his sorry life that damn badly. He didn¡¯t have anything that was worth half of a shit, anyway. What the fuck was he so desperate to save?


    They cut Pa¡¯s throat after they finished eating. He died whimpering. Then they killed me. They weren¡¯t assholes about it. They made it quick. Just professionals doing their job. Taking out some trash.


    Seven years old and I died with disgust burning a hole in my gut.


    Then I woke up. And I killed those scary men with my bare hands.


    The sheriff laughed as the drill pierced the wall.


    ***


    The tank burst through.


    ¡°Bahaha!¡± Cort cackled, though he couldn¡¯t hear himself over the havoc.


    Cort looked around as they plowed over the rubble. The tank slammed down on the ground, and some hopefully inconsequential component broke loose and fell into the blender of gears.


    He counted something like fifteen Podexians¡ªit was hard to tell ¡®cause they were all running around like maniacs. And there were a lot of goddamn Taluses.


    The statues stood between the tank and a big metal door at the other end of the cavern. Idiots. What would you have done without me?


    Cort floored the accelerator and Diom activated the tank¡¯s grinders.


    The drill minced a headless valkyrie into little bits. The first two rows of statues got mowed down as easy as a scythe chops wheat. Cort turned his head at a blood-curdling screech.


    He saw the sheriff standing on an elevated platform in the middle of the room and¡­ Shit, is that really Stondemaier? Cort had heard talk that the Burgermeister was disfigured, but that looked more like a slug made of rock than a person. Ansoir had kind of undersold the situation.


    The rest of the statues fled from the tank as they pressed toward the vault door.


    A massive rope appeared overhead and then its thick coils untwined and snared the drill. Cort laughed at the futility¡­ but the drill began to sputter and stall. Ethereal flames flickered along the ropes.


    The tank slowed to a crawl.


    Cort froze up. His heart sank.


    But Diom grabbed the shifter and threw the tank into reverse. They went careening backwards, and the rear-mounted drill struck the platform, destroying a chunk and forcing the sheriff to leap away. The ropes went slack and then dissolved as the drill ripped them apart.


    It sure was tempting to run the tank up there and grind all those fuckers into pulp, put an end to this whole damn mess right now. But truth be told, Cort wasn¡¯t too sure about the tank¡¯s chances against Jackson. Hallows were tricky bastards.


    Diom shifted the tank back into drive and they surged toward the door.


    ***


    ¡°What the hell is going on?¡± Ansoir whined.


    Gwil, Leira, and the little lord all had their ears pressed against the vault door.


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil yelled. He grabbed both Leira and Ansoir around their waists and leapt away.

 Chapter Thirty-Seven – Diminutive Crescendo

    The drill punched through the vault door and twisted it into a knot. There was a flash of Kaia and the screech of torn metal.


    The tank wound up flipped on its side, ensnared by jagged, curled slivers of the ruined door. The drill had snapped off and dangled as if hanging by threads. Blue sparks flickered through the blooming cloud of smoke.


    Still carrying Leira and Ansoir under his arms, Gwil held his breath and approached the tank. A grin cut through his grimace.


    Cort and Diom lay in a heap beneath the crumpled frame of the tank. They were both conscious and appeared to be bickering with each other.


    Gwil dropped Leira and Ansoir next to them and then ran into the throne room.


    The cavern was as black as the night sky, glittering with stars¡ªobsidian sprinkled with gemstones. At the center of the room, a golden dais.


    Sheriff Jackson stood there with his hat lowered over his face, flanked by a pair of his flunkies.


    Gwil slid under two thrown spears and then bounced back up, his Nirva swelling, the voices rising with it.


    He waded through carnage¡ªbroken limbs and split stone faces. Kaia oozed from their bodies and spread across the floor to form a putrid swamp.


    The statues that could still move had become deranged. A stone horse with no front legs pushed its torso along the ground like a plow. The many-armed jade statue danced, heedless of her surroundings.


    Gwil kept his eyes on the sheriff. The man had not even looked up yet.


    Strange movements on the edge of his vision pulled Gwil¡¯s attention. If not for the eyes, he would not have recognized the thing as human.


    A petrified mound, with the droopy shape of a melting body. Besides the eyes, a toothless slit of a mouth was the face¡¯s only feature. Irregular chunks of stone sprouted from the gray flesh like a fungus. The heap lay in the arms of a too-real, too-perfect statue of a woman. The Burger.


    Gwil sank his Nirva into his legs and then jumped toward the dais.


    The sheriff snapped to attention, a broken grin splitting across his face. He conjured a web of jagged silver ropes around the dais.


    Gwil landed with his hands and feet in the rungs of the net, but even as he tried to steady himself, he was slipping off.


    Landing on his back, Gwil looked at his hands. They¡¯d been shredded¡ªhis palms looked like cherry pie filling. The ropes Jackson made were like razor wire.


    Like parting curtains, an opening formed in the net, and a mix of Podexians and Taluses poured out. Stone fingers gripped Gwil¡¯s ankle as he tried to scramble away. The crawling statue lurched forward and pinned him down beneath its weight.


    A heavy blow blasted the wind from Gwil¡¯s lungs, and the statue exploded into pieces.


    Cort leapt over Gwil and engaged the Podexians, opening with a bone-crunching sweep of his giant hammer.


    ¡°I think that knocked one of my ribs back into place,¡± Gwil said, coughing as Leira helped him up.


    Jackson raised his fist and whistled. Cort grappled with a pair of Podexians as the group retreated to the other side of the net. Blood splashed to the ground as the razor-rope gave Cort a nasty slice on his forearm.


    ¡°Well, well, well,¡± Jackson said. ¡°What in the seven-legged donkey demon of Cocytus have we got here?¡±


    Gwil threw himself at the conjured barrier again, but the gaps in the net shrank so that he couldn¡¯t fit his hand through. The voices in Gwil¡¯s head loosed a collective gasp as Nirva flooded his tattered hands.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be damned, Ansoir,¡± the sheriff continued. ¡°Ain¡¯t a sliver of a chance I¡¯d have ever bet that you had the guts to wrap yourself up with these animals.¡± He clapped his hands together twice. ¡°Well played, you spineless bitch.¡±


    Ansoir whimpered and crouched down.


    ¡°Ansoir?¡± said a voice like scattering gravel. Stondemaier Jaqlov¡¯s milky eyes rolled in his crumbling face. ¡°Ophelia? Is Ansoir here?¡±


    The female statue rubbed his back while staring at the ground.


    Leira tugged at Gwil¡¯s sleeve. ¡°That¡¯s Ansoir¡¯s mom,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gwil mouthed back.


    ¡°Call him ¡®lord¡¯, Theodore, you damned ingrate,¡± Diom said. ¡°He is your superior.¡±


    Jackson and his comrades laughed. ¡°In what fuckin¡¯ capacity is this slimy wuss my better? Who the hell is this half-dead skeleton?¡±


    Stondemaier groaned and slumped, drooping over the edge of the dais. He dragged himself down to the floor. ¡°D-Diom? Is that you? My oldest friend is alive? My friend! Ophelia, my dear, do you see? Is this a dream?¡±


    Ophelia climbed down and helped Stondemaier draw himself upright, shaping him like clay.


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s me,¡± Diom sputtered. ¡°Oh, Stondemaier¡­ what have you done to yourself?¡±


    Stondemaier oozed out of Ophelia¡¯s embrace and made to pull himself through the net.


    The fool was going to dice himself into pieces. Gwil dashed forward and plunged his hand into the razor thicket to shove Stondemaier away. The Burger fell like a sack of rocks.


    Diom turned and put his hands on Ansoir¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me? I¡¯m so sorry.¡± Ansoir hugged him.


    Jackson laughed like a hyena. ¡°Fuckin¡¯ hell! I don¡¯t believe my eyes. Diom, you survived in the mines for two goddamn decades? Lucky sonuvabitch.¡± He laughed again. ¡°Well, would you call it lucky?¡±


    Diom stepped in front of Ansoir. ¡°I would now, yes.¡±


    ¡°Woo, boy!¡± Jackson shook out his soldiers and started pacing atop the dais. ¡°Y¡¯all have really shot some life into this thing. ¡®Spose I should¡¯ve expected some craziness from people willing to set billions of doubloons on fire.¡±


    Gwil patted down the torn strips of flesh on his arm. He felt sick to his stomach at all of this. Sensing the sheriff¡¯s gaze, he looked up.


    ¡°I wish you would¡¯ve just killed me instead of making me watch all that cash go up in smoke. What a fuckin¡¯ waste.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I will,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Aye,¡± the sheriff said, shaking his head. ¡°Now we¡¯ve gotta fight for scraps like two starving dogs.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Ropes spawned and curled around Jackson¡¯s underarms. He swung forward and landed on the floor right in front of Gwil. Only the net separated them.


    Gwil sent Nirva into his fingers and started trying to rip the ropes apart. Cort was slamming his hammer into the net, but it went rigid, sturdier than any metal.


    ¡°Settle down,¡± Jackson said, unflinching. Ropes sprouted from his fingertips and coiled around the net, and those strands were ablaze with translucent, prismatic flames. The sheriff bared his teeth, sweat streaking down his face, his neck bulging.


    Every blow of Cort¡¯s hammer bounced away with a metallic clang. Gwil¡¯s hands began to burn, and they were shaking when he pulled them away. Jackson was pumping a huge amount of Nirva into the net.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get your fight,¡± the sheriff said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I wanna know, too. Which of us fools will the fickle World favor?¡±


    Cort bellowed and slammed his hammer against the shimmering barrier. The ropes there splintered, creating a momentary gash before they reformed.


    ¡°You should know you¡¯re dead,¡± Cort said.


    Jackson shrugged and packed a lip of tobacco. ¡°You should learn not to count your chickens too early. You look stupid as hell when you¡¯re wrong.¡±


    ¡°You would know,¡± Leira chimed in.


    Jackson made a face at her and then moved to stand over Ansoir, who knelt on the floor with Diom. Stondemaier was just on the other side of the net.


    The sheriff spat tobacco juice into his afro. Ansoir either didn¡¯t notice or didn¡¯t care.


    Stondemaier babbled while clawing at his body, scraping off bits of gravel. Ophelia stood over him, trying to keep his hands at bay.


    ¡°Two baby-back bitches,¡± Jackson said. He kicked the Burger in the face and then looked back at Gwil. ¡°I can¡¯t figure you out, kid. You turn this little kingdom into ash, and you take this worthless brat under your wing? Ain¡¯t he exactly what you came here to destroy? What the fuck is it you¡¯re trying to accomplish?¡±


    ¡°This is disgusting,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Eh?¡± the sheriff said. ¡°C¡¯mon, tell me. Are you Vermin? Just some idiot playin'' hero? You think you¡¯re Prothea or¡­ or Enkai the goddamn Giver?


    ¡°You¡¯re doin¡¯ a bloody piss-poor job of that, let me tell you. If you¡¯re tryna help these slaves, you wouldn¡¯t have destroyed all the Kaia. Fuckin¡¯ idiot. Those insects could¡¯ve gotten rich. Fuck¡¯s sake, they can¡¯t even live without the stuff anymore. Buncha dead men walkin¡¯. But that¡¯s freedom for ya, ain¡¯t it?¡±


    Leira clicked her tongue. ¡°Kill this guy, Gwil. What a shit-eating asshole.¡±


    Gwil just kept staring at the sheriff.


    ¡°I hate delusional bastards like you,¡± Jackson continued. ¡°Acting all righteous while you do more harm than good.¡±


    Gwil shoved his fingers into the net and felt the muscles in his shoulders rip as he pulled.


    Jackson butted his forehead against Gwil¡¯s, baring his teeth. Spittle flew from his mouth as he screamed, ¡°You fuckin¡¯ animals don¡¯t even deserve the dirt. I¡¯ll string y¡¯all up by your guts and make you watch as I butcher every single fucking slave! Goddammit, shut up!¡±


    The ropes in Jackson¡¯s hands reformed into a cluster of rearing serpents. Gwil ducked as they lashed out.


    He needn¡¯t have done so. He was not the target.


    A fountain of blood spewed out of Diom¡¯s neck. His wizened, feeble hands went to his punctured throat.


    Gwil gritted his teeth at the blissful expression on the man¡¯s face.


    Ansoir lowered Diom to the ground. Leira appeared and pressed a bundle of cloth over the gushing wound. Cort unleashed a barrage of hammer strikes against the barrier.


    The Burger wailed and wailed. He¡¯d been struck too; a rope had speared the molten flesh of his shoulder. Jackson yanked the rope, and the lump of a man slumped over. Ophelia was beside herself, stuck with her placid smile.


    Ansoir rushed the net, but Gwil caught him and threw him back.


    Not one death. Gwil launched himself into the net. His flesh be damned, he¡¯d force his way through the tiny holes. Pop.


    And then Gwil was on the sheriff like a rabid demon. He crashed into Jackson¡¯s face. The man staggered back and then fell over.


    Gwil made claws of his fingers and began slashing Jackson¡¯s nose like an animal digging a hole. A river of blood rushed over Gwil¡¯s feet.


    ***


    Catatonia had Ansoir in its clutches.


    Leira clawed at the roots of her withered, dormant eyeflower. ¡°Bleed, you wretched thing, bleed!¡± she screeched through clenched teeth.


    The Megrim flower could exude a sap that staunched bleeding. But the bereft thing cared nothing for her pleas.


    ¡°Fucking help me, Cort!¡± she cried. The fool was still attacking the cage with his useless hammer as if mundane strength was worth a damn.


    ¡°Where did Gwil go?¡± he shouted back.


    ¡°Who cares? He¡¯s not the one bleeding from his neck!¡±


    Cort stomped over. ¡°Look. Jackson is being ripped apa-¡±


    ¡°Shut up and hold this,¡± she said, nodding toward the cloth. Her blood-sheathed hands shone like rubies. Diom¡¯s weak fingers fluttered against her grip.


    Cort shook his head. ¡°You can¡¯t. Let him go.¡±


    She slapped him in the face.


    Diom reached toward the net. Stondemaier reached back with a stubby, rocky limb.


    Cort took Diom under the arms and moved him closer.


    ¡°No! Idiot¡ªdon¡¯t move him,¡± Leira yelled, but she did not try to stop him.


    She shoved her fingers into her eye socket and locked them beneath the flower¡¯s bulb. Roots tugged at the inside of her face as she wrenched at the greedy, hollow sliver of the dead goddess Megrim.


    Ansoir crawled along behind Cort.


    Diom¡¯s eyes bulged from his chalk-white face. He sputtered and gagged; blood bubbled from his mouth. Cort adjusted the soaked crimson cloth.


    ¡°Stondemaier¡­ this¡­ is no way to live,¡± Diom said.


    ¡°My friend,¡± Stondemaier groaned. ¡°Ophelia, wake me up, please!¡±


    ¡°You¡­ we¡­ deserve this,¡± Diom said, choking on every word. ¡°Punishment. Ansoir?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here, Diom.¡±


    ¡°A new¡­ life. Never¡­ too late.¡±


    Diom grasped at the empty air in front of his face, as if clinging to his fraying threads.


    Ansoir caught the old man¡¯s hands and clasped them. He could not speak, and words were weak, so he nodded.


    ¡°Ophelia!¡± Stondemaier screamed.


    The silver net dissolved into mist. Jackson¡¯s underlings surged forth to overrun their battered foes. With spears leveled, they screamed their charge.


    A dozen men, eight-and-a-half statues. Cort raised his hammer and met them.


    ***


    A hand as big as Ansoir¡¯s red skimmer came crashing down on top of Gwil. Fingers as thick as tree trunks closed around his body.


    He went flying through the air and then bounced against the ground a few times before skidding to a halt.


    Gwil scurried further away even as he got back on his feet, fleeing from the massive creature that had just struck him. He had no idea what was happening¡ªhe was surrounded by towering objects.


    And then he registered Sheriff Jackson, looming over him, as tall as a building.


    ¡°Wahaha!¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°Why are you giant?¡± He turned and ran, looking over his shoulder as he went.


    He crashed into what he thought was the wall but was actually an enormous tea kettle.


    ¡°What is going on?¡±


    Jackson had gone down on his hands and knees, crawling around like a hunting dog. Ropes uncoiled from his fingers to probe the ground like little snakes.


    Gwil ducked behind the tea kettle and then peeked out. The cavernous ceiling looked as vast as the sky. Oh no! More massive figures were swarming Cort and the others. And¡­ his friends¡ªthey were giant, too¡­


    ¡°Whaa! I¡¯m tiny!¡± Gwil screamed, and his voice sounded like a squeaking mouse.


    But Jackson heard him. The man came thundering over, lumbering like a bear. Gwil dashed away, tripped over a fork and found himself surrounded by the contents of an overturned dining table.


    Gwil crouched to lift the fork¡ªit was about three times as long as he was tall. He heaved, slipped and fell over.


    Nirva rose through his legs, his body, his arms and he flung the fork away, sending it skittering across the rocky ground.


    Jackson lunged for the fork, snaring it in a tangle of ropes.


    Gwil chased after his projectile. He jumped and soared¡ªhe was so light!


    He landed amidst the sheriff¡¯s mustache. He grabbed two tiny fistfuls of wiry hair and started yanking.


    Gwil gripped tight as Jackson spasmed and began rolling around on his back.


    The sheriff¡¯s screaming mouth was like a crushing pit of death. Gwil felt the warm, damp air rushing out of that ravenous maw. He crawled up Jackson¡¯s cheek as the man began smacking himself in the face.


    Gwil made it up to the eye, grabbed hold of the eyelashes, and raised his foot. Focusing all the Nirva he could muster, Gwil stomped down on Jackson¡¯s squeezed shut eyelid.


    Once, back in Reverie, Margaret had enlisted Gwil to help her make wine. His job was to stand in a bucket and stomp on grapes.


    This felt a lot like that.


    Again and again, he slammed his feet down as the ocular surface on which he stood caved in. Jackson bombarded him with huge hands, but Gwil held fast.


    With a stomach-churning squelch, Gwil¡¯s next stomp sank deep, and he fell over, his leg trapped up to the knee in swampy gunk.


    Jackson was gasping with pain, and his attacks had become weak and desperate. The sheriff clamped his hand over his eye, but Gwil tucked himself down under the bridge of Jackson¡¯s nose and continued tearing out eyelashes while wrestling his leg free.


    It came away caked with blood and bits. Crawling beneath the canopy that was Jackson¡¯s palm, Gwil made it back to the gouged eye and began slamming his fists into the wound.


    ¡°This?¡± he squealed in his small, high-pitched voice. ¡°I waited all those years for this?¡± Minced, gelatinous chunks spewed out. ¡°This sick carnival? Is this really the World?¡±


    Jackson pinched Gwil¡¯s body between two of his fingers. The sheriff pried Gwil off and slammed him down on the ground.


    On impact, the bones in his arms snapped like twigs and Gwil bounced away. He scrambled behind a pile of rocks and then fell over.


    Through a gap, he could see the sheriff lying on his side, his hand covering his eye. Blood streamed between his fingers and down his face. His remaining eye was frantic, wild.


    ¡°It¡¯s so¡­ disappointing,¡± Gwil said to himself.

 Chapter Thirty-Eight – What’s That Smell?

    Threads spawned from Jackson¡¯s fingertips and stitched a gauze-like patch over his eye. The man sat up. ¡°You¡¯re a vicious little insect, ain¡¯t ya?¡± He began to prowl around.


    Crouched within his little hovel of rubble, Gwil set his bones as best he could and then surged Nirva into his arms. His bones hissed as they fused back together.


    Gwil had hoped to finish Jackson off before he recovered, but that chance had passed. He hadn¡¯t actually done that much damage.


    If he had been normal-sized, Jackson¡¯s face would¡¯ve been flattened by that beating. But with his little hands, he¡¯d only pulped the man¡¯s eye, and that was easily healed.


    Gwil grimaced. He was about the size of a cockroach, but he didn¡¯t know how or why he¡¯d shrunk. It happened when he forced himself through the net.


    That must have been his Invoke. It would¡¯ve been exciting and cool, except that he didn¡¯t know how to grow back.


    Gigantic shadows swooped over his hiding place. A little critter, stalked by giants.


    Across a short distance that appeared great, Cort tore through the Podexians like a whirlwind.


    Behind him, Leira and the others huddled over Diom. Gwil shook his head and turned away. That old man would not die. No way, not right at the end, not after he¡¯d endured twenty years of suffering.


    Gwil sighed as huge legs swept past the gap in the rubble. Being this small didn¡¯t seem very useful. He was extremely weak, and he was not so small that people couldn¡¯t see him. The surprise factor had gained him something, but the jig was up.


    Time to become big again.


    Gwil closed his eyes and felt a tremendous, swaddling pressure, vague and unreal, something from a waking dream. It was like being submerged in warm, thick liquid. Syrup, maybe.


    Try as he might, Gwil could not surface. There were clutching hands in that deep place, and they held him fast.


    While fighting with Jackson by the wall, he¡¯d definitely shrank and grown back. But none of that was on purpose.


    ¡°I get it,¡± Jackson said from a short distance away. He picked through the contents of the spilled table where Gwil had hid earlier. ¡°You can¡¯t control it. Heh. Too bad you¡¯re so weak like that. You mighta had me.¡±


    The sheriff was right about that. Gwil would¡¯ve smashed his brain if he could¡¯ve figured out how to stop being small. He stifled a giggle. What a silly problem.


    Jackson¡¯s boot obliterated the pile of rocks. His kick sent Gwil flying. He slammed into the wall and then slid down to land in a crumpled heap.


    When he was little, Gwil used to jump around on the furniture and swing from the rafters, hunting flies, trying to swat them with his bare hands.


    Lying there broken, like a baby bird cast out of the nest, Gwil felt bad for bugs. It was no easy thing to be tiny in this World.


    Jackson¡¯s spurs jangled as he approached. The sheriff crouched over Gwil, a monstrous titan. The mouth, the teeth¡ªterrifying. Gwil really hoped that Jackson was not going to eat him.


    For such a small body, he¡¯d lost a lot of blood. It pooled beneath him, and he slipped around in it, squirming and writhing at the force of his coursing Nirva.


    But the Nirva faltered, trickling like a dried-up stream. Gwil didn¡¯t know where to send it. Everything was broken. It was too much. He was not enough.


    ¡°You are such a special breed of idiot,¡± Jackson said, ¡°that it makes me question whether evolution is real. But you got some guts. Good game, kid. I haven¡¯t felt this alive in a long time.¡±


    The sheriff¡¯s boot eclipsed his vision, night falling all at once. Gwil¡¯s final thoughts came fast and desperate.


    Sorry, Caris. I only made it like ten kilometers. I guess that¡¯s pretty bad.


    Leira. Cort. Isca. Diom. Everyone.


    I tried.


    An absolute darkness fell, but no pain. Gwil blinked¡ªhe¡¯d consciously kept his eyes open as he waited for the shoe to drop.


    What the-? Am I flat now?


    Gwil was jostled around as the sheriff ground his heel in the pool of blood. He heard the crunch of bones and saw what he thought was one of his torn-off fingers get crushed.


    Then Gwil realized that was actually his whole left arm. Fucking hell! I¡¯m even smaller now!


    And then he rose upward. Reflexively, Gwil threw his one arm and his legs out to catch himself. He was wedged into the treads of Jackson¡¯s boot.


    The sheriff knelt, and as he crouched on the ball of his foot, the sole of his boot folded upward, providing Gwil with an avenue.


    He dragged himself out and scurried up the side of the boot, and then collapsed in a fold of Jackson''s pants where they bunched up at his ankles.


    The sheriff bent low, examining the pool of Gwil¡¯s blood on the ground.


    Gwil shimmied up so he could see, and then scrunched his face at the crushed bits of his bone and tissue.


    His arm had been severed at the elbow, but a translucent pink stump was unfurling. Fire blazed through Gwil¡¯s whole body. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach.


    Gwil¡¯s eyes went wide. Considering the extent of his injuries, he was healing quickly¡ªso quickly that ethereal billows of Nirva streamed out of his body.


    Shit, shit, shit. Buzzard said something about how Hallows can detect each other if they don¡¯t hide their Nirva. Jackson had found them earlier that way.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Gwil sucked in a deep breath and held it. That put a stopper on the steam. He tried to block his mind, but he didn¡¯t know how to do that, so he emptied it instead. Much easier.


    ¡°Woo!¡± Jackson yelled. ¡°What a day. Goddamn cockroach, that kid. Alright boys, he¡¯s dead! Let¡¯s exterminate the rest of ¡®em.


    ¡°Stondemaier! I¡¯mma kill you first ¡®cause you won¡¯t quit with the moaning. Or maybe Ansoir, and you can watch.¡±


    Gwil crawled down to the hem of Jackson¡¯s pant leg and then went under and started making his way up.


    He was super small now. So small that he could climb using Jackson¡¯s leg hair¡ªwhich made for excellent handholds¡ªwithout tugging it. Gwil guessed he was about the size of an ant.


    Oops, no thinking yet. Eh, is that even possible?


    Reaching Jackson¡¯s thigh, Gwil took care to go over the outside of the man¡¯s underwear, and then he shimmied his way past the sheriff¡¯s belt and went up into his shirt.


    ***


    Cort had destroyed all the Taluses and killed four of the Podexians. The rest of them hung back now that they could not use the statues as bait.


    The fight had reached a stalemate. Ten spear-wielding guards maintained a safe distance while surrounding him in a semi-circle.


    Cort didn¡¯t mind that. All he needed to do was keep them away from the others.


    He spat out a mouthful of stringy blood and grinned at his enemies. Maybe that¡¯d make him look maniacal enough that they wouldn¡¯t attack.


    Cort had taken a bad blow to the head, severe enough to impair his ability to fight. The Podexians didn¡¯t know that, and the longer he could keep it that way, the better.


    Sticky blood masked his face and his vision in his left eye was dark and cloudy. A concussion had him slow-witted and his legs felt like jelly.


    Cort leaned on his hammer, presenting what he hoped was a confident, terrifying ease rather than a man on the verge of collapse.


    Gwil needed to hurry it up. Everything hung on his fight with the sheriff. Those two had moved to the other side of the dais, so Cort couldn¡¯t see them.


    He wondered if Diom was dead yet, but didn¡¯t want to risk turning his head. And what about everyone else, running loose throughout the manor? They could¡¯ve run into more statues and¡­ Cort shook his head and then had to swallow the vomit that gurgled up.


    A triumphant scream echoed through the cavern. The only words Cort caught¡ª ¡°¡­he¡¯s dead!¡±


    Cort jerked upright and raised his hammer. The Podexians cheered and rushed him.


    A wild swing crashed through someone¡¯s pelvis but threw Cort off balance. He stepped on a rolling statue''s head and fell over.


    ¡°Cort!¡± Leira shrieked. ¡°Where¡¯s Gwil?¡±


    Cort made it back onto his knees before they swarmed him. He tried to use the head of his hammer as a shield and took a spear through the shoulder.


    The sheriff kept running his mouth.


    I¡¯m wondering that too, Leira. No way he¡¯s dead. Cort¡¯s hammer got knocked out of his hands. Desperation turned him feral. His hand shot out and closed around a guard¡¯s throat.


    Cort hooked his arm around the neck of another and smashed their heads together. He headbutted someone in the crotch and then caught a finger in his gnashing teeth. He bit down until his teeth scraped against bone and blood filled his mouth.


    The sheriff whistled, and the guards fell back, except for the two who Cort had just killed.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize you were this dangerous,¡± Jackson said. ¡°Maybe I¡¯d better kill you first.¡±


    ***


    Leira felt worthless and foolish. Why had she allowed herself to hope for anything from this wretched World?


    Useless and drained. Megrim had no gifts to give. The roots that grew inside her were diseased.


    He¡¯s dead. Those words made no sense.


    ¡°Idiot!¡± Leira screamed¡ªaloud, though she hadn¡¯t meant to. Did she really believe she¡¯d found a miracle buried in the mud? A delusion of grandeur.


    Stupid, stupid, stupid. She thought they were special. That something out there cared. Skuld, that bastard. Meeting him had encouraged her fantasy.


    A tear fell from her mundane eye, and that brought a crazed smile. Water and salt. Thank you. What a joke.


    Gwil could not be dead. She¡¯d been so sure. But humans were so fragile. It all fell apart so fast. She heard Anesidyra¡¯s cold voice in her head, ¡®Mercy is a construct, Leira. The World does not recognize it.¡¯


    Cort was going to be killed right in front of her eyes, and she could only pray that she wouldn¡¯t have to wait long for her turn.


    She rammed her fingers into her eye socket, felt the dry withered roots.


    ¡°Fuck!¡±


    Leira looked back at Ansoir. He lay in a pile with his monstrous father, his stone mother, and Diom¡¯s corpse. Madness. Madness everywhere.


    Leira stood. She would not die on her knees. Ashkana would never. Ashkana would fight like a demon until her last breath, and so would Leira.


    She sprinted at the sheriff and relished the hatred that burned in her guts.


    ¡°Liar!¡± Leira screamed.


    If she died with that man¡¯s blood on her hands, then she would go with a smile on her face.


    ***


    ¡°Leira, don¡¯t!¡± Ansoir shouted. He stumbled after her. ¡°Jackson, Jackson, please,¡± he called. ¡°Spare them. We can negotiate. It¡¯s all yours.¡±


    A rope snaked out of the sheriff¡¯s hand, coiled around Ansoir¡¯s leg and yanked him down


    Jackson didn¡¯t even spare him a glance.


    Laying on the ground, Ansoir looked at what his mother and father had become. And he remembered them as they were.


    They were eating dinner, just the three of them and a host of faceless servants.


    Mother laughed. She always laughed.


    Father droned on about things that were meaningless to a child. All he ever did was talk about such things.


    Whatever it was, he was angry. Father slammed his fist down on the table and the dishes clattered.


    Mother laughed again. Father¡¯s face transformed as his woes washed away. He smiled at Mother. His eyes twinkled. They laughed together.


    Mother stood and circled the table in her slow, hobbling way. She wiped Ansoir¡¯s chin with a napkin and then kissed him on the cheek. Her quick, shallow breathing buzzed in Ansoir¡¯s ear, and he saw Father¡¯s face transform again.


    A fleeting dream.


    Mother coughed into her bed sheet. She always coughed. She tried to hide the flecks of blood, but they were bright against the white bedding.


    Ansoir sat beside her on the propped-up pillows. Her arm felt weightless around his shoulders. Her skin was gray-blue. Ansoir nuzzled his face against her and felt the rough ridges of her ribs.


    He peeked up at her and she smiled. But her eyes were empty, looking elsewhere.


    Father threw the door open.


    ¡°Get out, Ansoir,¡± he barked.


    ¡°No, Stondemaier,¡± Mother rasped. ¡°If you insist on this course of action, let him stay. Please. That is my demand.¡±


    Ansoir¡¯s mouth went dry as his father looked down at his feet, wrestling with something.


    Ansoir did not understand. Nothing made sense.


    ¡°No,¡± Father said. ¡°I won¡¯t do that. It¡¯s not right. None of this is right.¡±


    ¡°There is still time, my love,¡± Mother said.


    ¡°I can¡¯t risk that,¡± Father said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ophelia. I am a monster.¡±


    Ansoir¡¯s throat tightened, and his face fell apart. He hated crying. He looked up at his mother, terrified that she would be crying too.


    Her jaw was stiff, her face expressionless. Like a statue.


    Father lifted Ansoir out of the bed. Ansoir felt his mother¡¯s feeble hand clinging to his pajamas, and then her grip broke.


    Father carried him to the door and handed him off to Diom. Then, he slammed the door to Mother¡¯s sickroom.


    Ophelia Jaqlov burned alive that day. Her ashes gave birth to a puppet.


    How cold love could be.


    Ansoir had convinced himself that he was a powerful man. Then, Gwil and Leira arrived like a storm and devoured his life. He¡¯d been left with nothing save for the brutal truth.


    This World does not care who you are, or how much wealth you have. It will crush anyone.


    Faced with such cruelty, kindness, no matter how small, is more precious than anything else.


    And now I die, knowing full well that I am worse than worthless.


    Ansoir made to go after Leira, but he could not turn away from his father. Something was wrong¡­


    With a clatter of rocks, Stondemaier drew himself upright. Ophelia staggered at his sudden movement. Ansoir did not realize that his father could still move like that.


    Burgermeister Stondemaier Jaqlov¡¯s mouth opened like a crumbling sinkhole. ¡°They are coming.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Nine – Arrival

    ¡°Ughwuah,¡± Gwil gagged.


    He tried very hard not to vomit as he crawled up a river of mucous, filled with nose hair-reeds. It was horrible. Gwil wondered if going into the sheriff¡¯s ear might have been less unpleasant.


    Being so small and weak, this was the only way Gwil could deal critical damage. Once he came to something squishy, he¡¯d beat the hell out of it. Hopefully it¡¯d be Jackson¡¯s brain.


    Gwil dragged himself through thick, sticky phlegm and bristly nose hairs, fighting for every smidgen of progress. His arm had grown back up to the hand, but the fingers had yet to form.


    Jackson¡¯s nasal exhalations were like a disgusting sauna. Gwil had only been in the nose proper for about thirty seconds, but the grossness made it feel like years.


    He was brimming with Nirva, an ocean in his veins. Prismatic essence poured from his body in proverbial bucketfuls. And he knew that he was healing faster than ever before. Even his tooth had grown back.


    Gwil guessed that his Nirva had not diminished with his shrunken body, so he now possessed an abundance.


    It didn¡¯t seem like Jackson could sense his presence. Maybe what Gwil was doing was working¡ªthough he wasn¡¯t doing anything anymore¡ªor maybe the sheriff just thought he had to sneeze. This was a good hiding place. Who would ever think to look inside their own nose?


    ***


    Cort was on his knees, staring up at Jackson. Ansoir and Leira lay beside him. Ansoir¡¯s hand had been sliced off.


    Razor-ropes formed a vest around Cort¡¯s chest and lashed his arms to the ground. He couldn¡¯t move a muscle.


    Another rope snaked out of Jackson¡¯s palm and coiled around Cort¡¯s neck. He spat a mouthful of blood into the sheriff¡¯s face as the rope tightened.


    ***


    The dark, dank cavity was getting narrower. The top of Gwil¡¯s head bumped against something softer than the nasal walls. And the surface contracted, flinched.


    Jackson¡¯s whole body spasmed. But Gwil was jammed up far enough¡ªand it was sticky enough¡ªthat he wouldn¡¯t fall out.


    Gwil poked at the soft thing. It felt bouncy, kind of like a balloon. As he drew his fist back, he wondered what it was. A sinus or gland or something.


    A rush of Nirva filled his fist to bursting.


    Gwil punched the balloon, and it popped. Foul liquid sprayed his face. He spat and crawled into the rupture.


    It was slippery in here, and stuffy with bulbous masses.


    Gwil began punching and kicking at everything. He was being rocked around by whatever Jackson was doing outside, so he just thrashed mindlessly as he crashed against the soft cushions. I hope this is his brain.


    Something dreadful happened.


    ¡°A-ah-ahhh-chooooo!¡±


    Caught in a glob of bloody snot, Gwil shot out like a bullet. Wiping himself off, Gwil got up and found himself standing on Jackson¡¯s chest. The man lay flat on his back, writhing and twitching, foaming at the mouth.


    Gwil jumped up onto his chin to get a better look. The blood gushing from Jackson¡¯s nose reached Gwil¡¯s knees. More blood leaked from the sheriff¡¯s eyes.


    A choked wheeze blew Gwil off the chin back onto Jackson¡¯s sternum.


    It¡¯s not enough. If the sheriff was still breathing, he could heal. Gwil had to get back inside and finish him.


    ¡°Gwil! Gwil, are you there?¡±


    That was Leira, screaming.


    ¡°I¡¯m here!¡± Gwil squeaked.


    ¡°Oh my- Where? Are you invisible? Why¡¯s your voice like that? I thought you were dead!¡±


    ¡°Right here!¡± Gwil waved his arms over his head.


    ¡°Fucking hell! I see him! Argh!¡±


    Gwil turned and saw Cort smash through three of Jackson¡¯s men with one swing of his hammer¡ªthe rest of the officers ran for the door.


    Cort¡¯s prisoner¡¯s jumpsuit and the skin underneath had been shredded. Half-a-dozen bloodied bodies lay at his feet.


    ¡°Ahh!¡± Leira yelped. ¡°Me too!¡± She ran over.


    ¡°Wait, Leira! We gotta-¡± Gwil dodged away from her grabbing hand. At this even smaller size, she loomed large as a mountain.


    ¡°Why the hell are you so tiny?¡±


    Gwil¡¯s cheeks fluttered at the gale force wind of her voice. He had to cling to Jackson¡¯s vest to keep from blowing away.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°I dunno¡ªbut Cort! Smash his face, quick!¡± Gwil chirped.


    ¡°Yeah, my pleasure,¡± Cort said, grunting. He limped over, the head of his great hammer scraping against the stone floor.


    The noise began in their bones, like ten thousand needles. Aches burrowed through Gwil¡¯s joints. His limbs locked up.


    The others fell to their knees. Ansoir clamped his hands over his ears. Stondemaier wailed. Jackson was gripped by a vicious seizure and Gwil was flung away.


    The warbling shrillness crept into Gwil¡¯s skull, and his vision went blurry. He covered his ears too. Everyone¡¯s hair stood up on end, as if drawn by tremendous static. Ansoir¡¯s afro had unfurled to a length of two meters.


    The sound increased in frequency and grew more distorted. The voices in Gwil¡¯s head screamed death in answer.


    And then the sound stopped. Frigid gusts of powerful wind rushed around them. Radiant light filled the cavern. Looking up, Gwil thought the moon might be falling on top of them.


    Debris swirled into the air. Gwil grabbed hold of a chunk of rock, and then the object skittered, and he was being lifted up.


    Cort snatched Gwil out of the air and clutched his fist to his chest.


    Gwil peeked through the creases of Cort¡¯s fingers. He saw Ophelia with her arms wrapped around her huddled family, her stone body stalwart against the winds.


    The top half of the manor had been obliterated. The rounded metal bottom of an enormous vessel loomed overhead. Its breadth could not be discerned, but it dwarfed this tower. Blinding white-blue Kaia light shone from circular vents along the base of the craft.


    Frost crackled into being, coating everything around them.


    ¡°Run!¡± Leira said, getting to her feet, bracing herself against the gale. She tugged at Cort.


    ¡°But Leira,¡± Gwil said, popping his head out the top of Cort¡¯s fist.


    ¡°No!¡± she shrieked. ¡°Gwil, no. We need to leave now, or we will all die.¡± Mania gripped her face, but her voice was steady. She did not plead. She spoke with deliberate certainty.


    Gwil nodded. ¡°What are we waiting for? Run, Cort!¡±


    The winds ebbed, allowing them to hear the rumbling hum of the vessel. Something else was happening, but Gwil couldn¡¯t twist around to see because Cort had tightened his fist.


    ¡°Get up, get up!¡± Leira said. ¡°Ophelia, can you carry them?¡±


    Gwil watched the stone woman hoist her feeble husband onto her shoulder, and then her son.


    ¡°Wha!¡± Gwil squealed. ¡°Ansoir!¡±


    A bundle of cloth, shiny with blood, was wrapped around Ansoir¡¯s wrist. Its shape revealed that there was no hand underneath.


    Gwil wrestled himself out of Cort¡¯s fist and jumped down to the ground. Diom lay there. Not moving. Covered in blood. Gwil¡¯s fingernails stabbed into his palms.


    ***


    Leira snatched Gwil off the ground as he tried to run toward Diom¡¯s corpse. She had to press both her hands together to keep him trapped as he tried to fight his way free.


    ¡°He¡¯s dead, Gwil. I tried,¡± she said as they ran toward the door. He slammed himself against the inside of her palms like a wasp trapped in a jar.


    ¡°No, he isn¡¯t,¡± Gwil said, like a petulant child. ¡°I promised Isca. Put me down! I¡¯ll carry him.¡±


    Into the tunnels. Leira ran alongside Ophelia. Cort was a few paces ahead.


    ¡°Let me go!¡± Gwil said. ¡°I promised.¡±


    ¡°You made a promise to me, too,¡± Leira snapped. That shut him up, but she was on edge, so she went on. ¡°He¡¯s dead. You failed. Deal with it.¡±


    ¡°What if he comes back as a Hallow?¡±


    ¡°Gwil. No.¡±


    She felt him fall against her palm, light as a feather.


    Cort slowed down to hammer through a chunk of rock that blocked their path. The cave was collapsing.


    ¡°The sheriff is gonna heal,¡± Gwil said.


    Leira laughed. ¡°I expect he¡¯s cursing you for not killing him right now.¡±


    ¡°That was the Leviathan?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°Yeah, and not standard military. Only Monarchs have that kind of ship.¡±


    ¡°I gotta go back for Diom, then. Leira, please.¡±


    She clenched her teeth as they clambered over a pile of rubble.


    ¡°Yeah, good idea. Give your life for a fucking corpse. He is dead. I tried, Gwil, but it hit an artery or something.¡±


    She brought her hands to her mouth. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. He died hopeful. If we get away with everyone, then we made his dream come true.¡±


    Gwil made a stunted, muffled sound. Then said, ¡°We need to find the others.¡±


    ¡°No, they need to get out on their own. You promised.¡±


    Leira felt a cool breeze. Fresh air. Up ahead¡ªa hole in the wall that they could get out through.


    Something about that sight crushed her resolve, washed away her adrenaline. Terror surged. Her heart pounded in her throat. They are here. The monsters are right behind me.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let them take me!¡± she screamed.


    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± Gwil squeaked.


    Cort had stopped at the opening and pushed Ophelia through. He wrapped an arm around Leira¡¯s back and dragged her outside.


    Don¡¯t think. Don¡¯t think.


    Looking up, the sheer size of the Leviathan ship seemed to swallow everything. The upper sections of the canyon wall that enveloped the manor had vanished, sliced into nothingness, exposing the hollow to the sky.


    The ship¡¯s hull was a hypnotizing mechanical hellscape. Leira knew it had not flown here¡ªit had appeared out of nowhere.


    A Monarch. Here. It¡¯s not her. It¡¯s not her.


    Leira gasped when they escaped from the warpship¡¯s breadth. The sight of the blank night sky allowed her to breathe. Clouds obscured the stars.


    They hobbled along, fast as they could. The ground crunched beneath their feet. Leira looked down. The gardens were blackened and burnt, smoldering.


    It started raining. Pouring.


    ¡°Mmra!¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Leira opened her hand.


    Gwil¡¯s panting sounded like a whistle. ¡°You were¡­ squeezing me way too tight.¡± He lay in her palm with his hand over his chest. He rolled over like a little bug.


    ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± Cort growled.


    The rain sizzled and steamed as they ran through the scorched gardens. Leira loved heavy rain like this. It made you want to look up and reach for the sky.


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil yelled in her ear. She hadn¡¯t realized that he¡¯d climbed up onto her shoulder.


    She wiped her eye so she could see what he was shouting about. With the darkness and the rain and her tears, the visibility was piss-poor.


    A horde of figures ahead. Soldiers, was her first thought. But no, they were running away. Dozens, maybe even a hundred! Could it really be all of them?


    ¡°They made it!¡± Gwil chirped.


    Their comrades were a couple hundred paces ahead, nearly to the cliff¡¯s edge and the wall.


    ¡°Thank fuck,¡± Cort said.


    Running through the gardens might¡¯ve been treacherous, with all the twisting roots and vines, but everything crumbled into ash beneath their feet.


    Leira chanced a look over her shoulder. The ship hung above the ruined manor, motionless. The surrounding air was warped and shimmering. It looked as if the sky had been torn open to reveal an unimaginable horror.


    Gwil¡¯s voice called her back.


    ¡°Andor,¡± he was saying. ¡°Hey, Andor.¡±


    Ansoir was slumped over his mother¡¯s shoulder, seemingly unconscious.


    But he jerked to attention. ¡°An-soir!¡± He sobbed. ¡°It hurts. Everything hurts so much.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be okay,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re tough.¡±


    Ansoir made a weird noise and then his head lolled. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I think I¡¯m glad I get to live,¡± he murmured.


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that yet,¡± Cort said.


    Leira nodded to herself at that. She wondered how much Cort knew about what had just arrived here.


    Cort slowed down a step so that they ran parallel to each other. ¡°Why the fuck are you still like that?¡± he yelled at Gwil. ¡°Go back to normal.¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡± Gwil said. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying.¡±

 Chapter Forty – A Queen’s Corruption

    Gwil sensed it before the others, like gentle fingernails caressing his scalp. Swinging from a lock of Leira¡¯s hair, he spun around.


    Three dark figures had emerged from the ruined main entrance of the manor. Their silhouettes possessed an inky sheen. They were humanoid, but protrusions jutted from their twitching forms. They moved across the gardens in pursuit.


    Leira screamed bloody murder.


    And then Ansoir: ¡°Brock!¡± He thrashed against Ophelia¡¯s hold on him.


    The Talus came staggering out of the manor, behind the creatures.


    Bile burned in Gwil¡¯s throat. They had left Brock behind.


    Unforgiveable.


    Gwil leapt down from Leira¡¯s shoulder and hit the ground running.


    ¡°No! Gwil!¡± Leira shouted. She dove to catch him, but he darted away. ¡°Stop!¡±


    He was gone.


    ¡°But you promised¡­¡± Leira buried her face in the ash and the dirt.


    ¡°Brock! Brock!¡± Ansoir cried.


    Dammit. These tiny strides made him so slow. The manor might¡¯ve been five kilometers away accounting for scale.


    Weaving through giant raindrops, Gwil glanced back as heavy footfalls closed on him.


    Cort. Gwil veered to get away.


    He would not leave Brock behind. Diom was dead. He had no choice but to accept that. But Brock was still alive.


    ¡°Get on, you idiot!¡± Cort said. ¡°We¡¯re gonna get him out.¡±


    Gwil jumped up into Cort¡¯s open palm.


    ¡°Brock! Brock!¡± Ansoir¡¯s cries echoed, piercing the pattering rainfall.


    The three figures had a strange way of moving, jerky yet flowing, as if they drifted on the current of a raging river. Their bodies were lanky and thin, and they were over three meters in height.


    As one, they stopped and leaned forward, extending their heads like prowling animals. They watched Cort¡¯s approach with a childlike curiosity.


    Tattered strips of cloth hung from carapace-like armor. The plates formed a shell around their bodies, segmented around the points of articulation. Gwil thought of a centipede.


    Their shells were dark, but not black, rather a mottled mix of green, purple, and red, all in their sickliest hues. The pattern matched Leira¡¯s hair color. Pinprick orange glints shone through the folds in their helmets.


    Twisted horns punched through their plating. The horns were grayish white, like mold or ash. The horns looked invasive, parasitic. And the creatures¡¯ movements seemed to favor the protrusions as if they caused them pain, forcing them to hunch and writhe.


    Cort and Gwil¡ªriding on his shoulder¡ªwere close to the creatures, less than a hundred paces away. None of them carried weapons. They stared mindlessly, like fish in a bowl.


    Brock rolled along in their wake. The creatures paid him no mind.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna throw you past them,¡± Cort told Gwil. ¡°Do what you can. Get the rock out while I hold them off.¡±


    ***


    Leira clawed the soil with her fingers as the rain splattered against her back. It was over. This was her last sliver of freedom.


    Ophelia¡¯s hard finger prodded at her. Leira wished the statue would just crush her skull beneath its stone foot.


    Gwil didn¡¯t know¡ªcouldn¡¯t know. He and Cort were dead.


    Those creatures¡ªthey belonged to her. To Queen Anesidyra.


    How? How could she be here? So far from¡­


    Everyone would be taken. Gwil, Cort, all the escaped prisoners. Anesidyra would metamorphose them all. Except for Leira.


    Her fate would be different, and there was no escape. Misery, until the very end.


    ***


    Twenty paces. The air grew warmer as they got closer.


    In perfect harmony, the three creatures bowed their heads almost to the ground. The masks of their helms unfolded. They began to gag and retch.


    Chunky brown slime poured from their faces. It formed a writhing pool around their feet. The stench¡­ shit and rot and death.


    The impurity that gushed from their faces was an impossible torrent. So much that it could not have been contained within their selves.


    The creatures sank down as the ground on which they stood started caving in.


    The chunks inside the waste were eggs, gelatinous and yellow. In sequence, they ballooned and then burst. Coiled centipedes sprang free, each as long as a cat, and as thick as Cort¡¯s arm.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The chittering grotesqueries spewed out more of the rancid brown fluid. The pool flooded across the ground. Raindrops sizzled as they hit the surface.


    A Monarch. Cort did not expect to survive this. But maybe they wouldn¡¯t see Gwil. Maybe he could get out with Brock.


    Cort hoped the prisoners realized they needed to run for their lives.


    He drew his arm back to throw Gwil.


    But a geyser erupted. Cort turned and covered his face with his arm, closed his fist around Gwil. He winced as acidic droplets disintegrated his clothing and scalded his flesh.


    Splashing and squelching, frenzied chittering and guttural roars.


    ¡°Brock!¡±


    Cort took a moment to realize that it was Gwil yelling with his tiny voice, not Ansoir¡¯s distant wailing.


    Cort could only squint¡ªa sticky substance clung to his eyes. He glimpsed the Talus frantically mashing his way through the swamp.


    Brock had plowed right through the three creatures and knocked them off their feet.


    Pale, colorless blood squirted from the mass of centipedes that Brock crushed beneath his feet.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, c¡¯mon, c¡¯mon,¡± Gwil chanted.


    But Brock¡¯s heavy body was sinking into the deteriorating, muddy ground. He revved his boulder legs, kicking up a storm of putridness.


    Cort moved closer, inching so he wouldn¡¯t fall into the swamp himself. He placed Gwil back on his shoulder.


    Acid was chewing through his boots. Fucking hell. He already wanted to take a bath.


    Cort dug his feet in and sank up to his ankles. Then he took his hammer and, reaching as far as he could, lowered the head down to Brock. The three spawners splashed about in the muck like jumping salmon.


    The Talus clamped his boulder hands¡ªthe least dexterous appendages in the World¡ªaround the hammer.


    They gave it their all, Cort heaving and Brock flailing through the muck. Cort could feel the acid chewing through his feet, but no pain, just a cool, pleasant numbness.


    Brock managed to plant one of his legs on something firm. A rock probably, Cort mused. One of his insentient, subterranean kin. Cort giggled and found that he felt giddy and very lightheaded. Way better than being drunk.


    He really wanted to sit down. And why not? He did.


    Brock rumbled up out of the ditch. His stone body was pocked with divots and chewed-out gashes where the acid had melted through.


    The Talus scooped Cort up and zipped away, smoke pouring from his engine as his boulder legs churned like tank treads.


    Cort adjusted himself so he could see behind them. One spawner had lost its helm. Gross little worms covered its face. Except for the beady orange eyes, the only feature was a gaping round hole, like a mouth, but in the center.


    ¡°You kind of look like weird anuses,¡± Cort called. He¡¯d tried to yell, so they could hear him, but his tongue was too big. And they didn¡¯t have ears, anyway.


    Gwil started laughing, and that got Cort going too.


    But the swamp grew like a rising tide, carrying a wave of centipedes. Not funny at all! Cort began smacking Brock on the back, trying to hurry him along like a horse.


    The three spawners drifted along the surface of the pool, spasming, slime spraying from their faces like they were loose hoses.


    ***


    ¡°Leave me alone, you fucking stone bitch,¡± Leira screamed, whipping around. Ophelia had resumed prodding at her. ¡°Just let me wallow in my¡ªholy shit!¡±


    She did not believe it. Brock was blundering across the gardens. The Talus had Cort in his arms. Leira squinted and saw Gwil standing on top of Brock¡¯s head.


    Alive. It didn¡¯t matter though, did it? They still had nowhere to go. There was no hope of escaping from Anesidyra.


    The familiar scent of Anesidyra¡¯s corruption made Leira shiver and sweat. Her skin crawled.


    The Queen¡¯s scourge was spreading. Leira had witnessed it many times before. And it had plagued her nightmares for the past three years. She shuddered¡ªso much worse in person.


    But Gwil had promised her. And he would try until he died.


    Leira turned and ran toward the mob of escapees. ¡°Run, you fucking fools, run!¡± she screamed. ¡°Get down the wall. Run as far as you can!¡±


    They¡¯d at least been smart enough to get to the cliff¡¯s edge. A warpship hung in the sky and the earth putrefied before their eyes, so it didn¡¯t take a genius¡­


    Ansoir knelt, one hand clasped around his bandaged stump, lips moving in silent prayer. Ophelia clung to his shirt as he tried to run toward Brock.


    A booming, distorted voice rang out. ¡°Stop! Stay where you are, prisoners.¡±


    Leira wanted to rip off her own skin. ¡°Fucking hell, what is it now?¡± she shrieked before forcing herself to turn around.


    Another goddamn flyer! But this was a janky-looking, blimp-style airship. Not Leviathan. A crumpled hunk of junk that she wouldn¡¯t have believed capable of flight if she wasn¡¯t looking at it.


    The airship slowed on its approach and descended to the level of the cliff.


    ¡°This is your savior speaking. That¡¯s right, it is I, Doctor Buzzard, here to rescue you.¡±


    A hangar door in the airship¡¯s main cabin opened, and a ramp deployed. More than a hundred people were crowded inside¡ªthe escapees that had stayed behind, and a bunch of strangers too.


    Leira¡¯s heart skipped. She wanted to weep and laugh and scream all at once.


    The escapees crowded the ramp and began pouring into the hangar, helped along by those who were already aboard.


    Leira turned back. Brock was so close. Just a few more seconds. Please, please, please.


    ***


    ¡°More like Doctor Butthead!¡± Cort said, cackling.


    Gwil didn¡¯t know why Cort was being so goofy¡ªthis was pretty scary¡ªbut it had him cracking up.


    He¡¯d thought they were gonna die, but instead he''d get to ride on an airship. It didn¡¯t look like the ones he¡¯d seen in pictures, but it flew, and that was what mattered.


    Doctor Buzzard! Gwil needed to remember to tell him something.


    Without slowing down, Brock scooped up Leira and the three Jaqlovs in his arms and held them close as he rolled up the airship¡¯s ramp.


    The thing heaved at Brock¡¯s weight, but they made it inside and the door closed behind them. Gwil grinned. He was flying!


    ¡°All aboard?¡±


    Gwil looked around¡ªso many people!¡ªas Buzzard¡¯s artificial voice sounded throughout the cabin.


    ¡°Let¡¯s be off then. Let it be known, I haven¡¯t tested this airship¡¯s ability to fly in the rain. It¡¯s fine, of course, but well, don¡¯t bother holding on tight. If we crash it¡¯s a death sentence, heehee, so just cross your fingers.¡±


    Brock set them down. Cort stumbled like a drunk and then landed on his ass. He laughed, slumped over, and began snoring like a pig.


    Leira snatched Gwil and brought him close to her face as he tried to scurry up her cupped hands. She clapped them together to trap him.


    ¡°Buwuhuh,¡± Gwil groaned.


    ¡°Never scare me like that again, you goddamn idiot! I told you they were dangerous, and you promised me-promised¡ªyou would keep me safe.¡±


    ¡°It worked out,¡± Gwil said, straining. ¡°And look, luxury travel.¡±


    Leira sighed and shivered. ¡°Don¡¯t ever do that to me again.¡±


    Gwil nodded. ¡°I won¡¯t. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    He climbed up onto her shoulder so he could see better. The escapees were hooting and hollering, hugging and crying, celebrating as much as they could in the crowded cabin.


    And then he realized it wasn¡¯t just the escapees in here, but a host of finely clad townsfolk, and a bunch of servants from the manor. Wow! Everyone did such a good job.


    With a thunderous metal clang and a terrifying lurch of the airship, Brock collapsed. His engine was sparking, and a bit of smoke trailed out, but he gave a thumbs up.


    Ansoir was passed out next to Cort, his head resting on Cort¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Aw, how cute,¡± Gwil said.


    Ophelia knelt beside them, hands on her head, stuck in her smiling panic.


    Gwil was surprised upon noticing Stondemaier. It was hard to remember he was a person since he was so similar to an amorphous pile of rocks. His eyes were open but lolling with creepy vacancy.


    ¡°Erm, I think Ansoir and Brock need medical attention,¡± Leira said.

 Chapter Forty-One – Skies Await

    A woman with a gruff, commanding voice shoved her way through the packed hangar. Several people were knocked over by her belligerence.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Gwil?¡± she barked upon emerging from the throng. It was Limmy. ¡°Where is he? Why isn¡¯t he with you, flower lady?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± Gwil said from Leira¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Hey, Limmy!¡±


    She stomped closer, leaning in and squinting. ¡°What the hell? I don¡¯t remember you being so small.¡±


    ¡°He was always like that,¡± Leira said quickly.


    Limmy scratched her head and then cackled. ¡°Guess all this madness threw my memory right out the wazoo.¡± She put her hands on her hips and beamed. ¡°I did it! Just like you asked. Every single one of the sorry bastards is alive and well, excepting for a few non-fatal wounds. I kept my promise.¡±


    Gwil bowed his head. ¡°That¡¯s amazing, Limmy. Thanks!¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s voice sounded through the hangar again, and Gwil realized it came from a small cone mounted to the ceiling.


    ¡°Greetings, passengers. We have cleared Podexian airspace and are headed due south to sanctuary.¡±


    ¡°South?¡± Leira exclaimed. ¡°Nuh-uh. That is not gonna fly.¡±


    Buzzard continued. ¡°Welcome aboard my esteemed and illustrious vessel, Rosalind¡¯s Memory, named for my late mother.¡± A sniffle crackled through the speaker. ¡°It was designed by my brilliant mind and constructed by the hands of those who I told what to do.


    ¡°It is¡­ perhaps not certifiably airworthy, heehee, but I can guarantee your safety. Just sit back and relax. We will arrive at our destination in approximately two hours. I will issue an alert when it¡¯s time to land. At that point, you will want to secure yourselves, because we are carrying excessive weight. Also, our landing mechanisms are incomplete so the vessel will suffer, heehee, damage upon touchdown. But fear not, a genius always accounts for the unexpected! Please note, our lavatorial facilities are limited, so do not overfill your bladders or consume any laxatives.¡±


    Some muttering broke out at the end of the announcement, but the escapees were too exhausted to do any worrying, and the townsfolk were too shellshocked to do anything besides stare and make themselves small.


    Gwil jumped from Leira¡¯s shoulder and clung to the speaker. ¡°Hey Buzzard, can you hear me?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Gwilym. What would be the point of a one-way comm system? I can see you, too.¡±


    ¡°Ansoir¡¯s hand got cut off¡ªit¡¯s kind of bleeding a lot. And Brock looks like he might explode. Can you help them?¡±


    ¡°Certainly. Bring Ansoir to the cockpit. As for Brock, let me see¡­¡± The speaker spun and a little scope extended to look at Brock. ¡°Hmm, yes. The damage is not critical. I will come attend to him afterward, since Brock is too large to move through the hall.¡±


    Gwil jumped back to Leira and said, ¡°Does anyone else need any doctoring?¡± His tiny voice went unheard, so Leira repeated the message.


    No one spoke up. Limmy sneered whilst scanning the escapees and glaring. ¡°That¡¯s what I thought,¡± she said, nodding. She started clapping and everyone else followed. Joy swelled throughout the hangar.


    Gwil grinned. Everyone¡¯s okay. Diom would¡¯ve been happy. He could hear the old man saying his death was worthwhile. Gwil would¡¯ve told him that was bullshit.


    He bit at his lower lip. Leira was wrong. It was his fault. He could¡¯ve easily thrown himself in front of those ropes if he¡¯d realized¡­ Isca will be so disappointed.


    Dammit. Not again. It was the same as with Caris. Too slow, too stupid. Nothing like that should ever happen.


    ¡°Ask goggle-man if he has any booze!¡± one prisoner said to cheers.


    ¡°I do not have any booze,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Please remember what I said about your bladders. I¡¯ll be damned if I let urine rain down from an airship that bears my mother¡¯s name.¡±


    ¡°SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!¡± It was Cort who¡¯d yelled, but he was still fast asleep.


    ¡°Is he gonna be okay?¡± Gwil asked.


    Leira nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve seen it before. It will wear off soon, but he¡¯s gonna be extremely annoying until it does.¡±


    ¡°Huh? You¡¯ve seen that weird centipede shit before?¡± Gwil asked.


    She nodded again, and from where Gwil stood on her shoulder, he glimpsed the tear that she blinked away.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t listen to you back there, Leira.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± She shook her head. ¡°There¡¯s nothing I can do for his flesh wounds until my flower blooms. But it¡¯s good that he took his shoes off.¡±


    Cort¡¯s feet were purple and bloody and moldy. It was gross.


    Leira closed her eye and exhaled through pursed lips. ¡°Anesidyra rarely kills. She loves to create loyal, willful servants. It¡¯s a long and twisted process of love and torture. This poison, this drunken euphoria that Cort has is one of her methods.¡±


    Gwil heard Skuld¡¯s voice in his head: ¡®That¡¯s a terrible burden she carries. Makes me wanna cry. One day, everything will come crashing down on her. She¡¯ll need your help. Don¡¯t you dare abandon her.¡¯


    Gwil knew from the start that Leira was something unusual. And it was obvious that she¡¯d had a hard time of things.


    But he had come to realize that he knew nothing about the World. He was na?ve, and he had underestimated the situation.


    This journey would see them entering the belly of the beast. And then, it was like inside that beast¡¯s belly was another beast that had been eaten but was actually even more ferocious than the beast that had eaten it. And then inside that beast¡­


    Gwil shook his head. It didn¡¯t matter. He just needed to be better. Much better. And ready for anything.


    Gwil cracked his tiny knuckles. ¡°I promise she will never get her hands on you again, Leira. Just let me know when you¡¯re ready for us to go kill this queen.¡±


    Her breath was a hiss. ¡°I will.¡±


    Ophelia stomped her stone foot on the metal floor. She held Ansoir in her arms and gestured for them to hurry the hell up.


    Gwil jumped from head to unassuming head and landed next to Brock. ¡°You¡¯re okay? I¡¯ll tell Buzzard to hurry up.¡±


    The Talus nodded. Stondemaier lay next to him. Two piles of sentient rocks. They looked oddly content despite their sorry states.


    ¡°Oh, yeah. Hey, Burger,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Why do you like rocks so much?¡±


    Stondemaier writhed. ¡°They say the World was gentle once.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡± But Stondemaier had closed his eyes.


    Gwil bounded after Leira and Ophelia as they marched through the hangar. The townsfolk looked appalled.


    Landing back on Leira¡¯s head, Gwil asked, ¡°How did his hand get cut off?¡±


    ¡°The sheriff,¡± Leira said. ¡°Sliced it clean off with a rope. It happened a dozen heartbeats before you took him down. Unlucky.¡±


    Ansoir groaned.


    ¡°You were inside his nose, yeah?¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Mhm,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Dammit. I would¡¯ve been faster, but his boogers were so thick and sticky.¡±


    They exited the hangar and reached a sparse metal hallway that ran the entire length of the airship. They passed a few offshoot cabins, but Ophelia led them straight to the fore of the vessel. She threw open a hatch-style door at the end and they entered the cockpit.


    Gwil gaped at the view out the window. The airship soared through a mass of dark storm clouds, cutting through like the prow of a boat. From up here, the sky seemed no different than the sea.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    He jumped off of Leira and landed on a complicated-looking control panel covered with instruments and gauges and dials and levers.


    Buzzard swatted at Gwil as he tried to get a better look out the window. The airship¡¯s lighting cast a pale globe of light, but outside its reach, nothing but swirling darkness.


    ¡°Adeline!¡± Leira yelped. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    Gwil turned. He hadn¡¯t noticed that the three other people in the cockpit besides Buzzard.


    Leira stared at the fancy-looking woman who was resting her hand on Buzzard¡¯s shoulder. She was twice as tall as the doctor.


    ¡°You wretched girl,¡± Adeline said. ¡°If Buzzy wasn¡¯t vouching for you, I might throw you overboard.¡± She was smiling, though.


    ¡°Buzzy?¡± Gwil squeaked.


    ¡°Doctor Buzzard and I are long-time lovers,¡± Adeline said proudly. She looked down at Buzzard and fluttered her eyes.


    Leira looked stunned. Her face said: I would not have put those two together even if they were the only two survivors of a second Apocalypse.


    ¡°Hi, Leira,¡± said a small voice from the corner.


    ¡°Oh my gosh! Bethany!¡± Leira ran over and gave the woman a big hug.


    Gwil grinned. Bethany had a gentle face, the sort that endeared you to her immediately.


    ¡°I¡¯m confused. What all happened here?¡± Leira said.


    Buzzard lifted his goggles and put an arm around Adeline¡¯s waist. He would¡¯ve needed to stand on his chair to reach her shoulders.


    ¡°In the wake of the Kaia disaster, dearest Adeline proved her brilliance by gathering as many of the servants and townsfolk as she could.¡±


    ¡°The ones I deemed likeable, at least,¡± Adeline said, chortling. She bent down and kissed Buzzard on the forehead. His blue cheeks blushed with a touch of pink.


    ¡°I must say,¡± Adeline continued, ¡°I am quite disappointed in Bethany for not having seen through your fa?ade, Lady Leira. She should¡¯ve been able to smell it on you.¡±


    Leira grinned. ¡°That¡¯s not fair. I¡¯m a spectacular actress.¡±


    Gwil jumped back to Leira¡¯s shoulder so he could join the conversation. ¡°Were a lot of people left behind? What will the Leviathan do to them?¡±


    ¡°We can only guess at that,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°And we shouldn¡¯t if we value our sanity. Heehee. Not everyone can be saved, Gwilym. You¡¯d be wise to learn that. The World is not so kind, and the Hells grow ever more gluttonous. I wonder though, do you know which Monarch that was?¡±


    ¡°Anesidyra,¡± Leira said.


    Buzzard made a choking noise. ¡°The Centipede Queen? That¡¯s very unfortunate. You shouldn¡¯t have told me that. Now I wish I¡¯d built a bigger airship.¡±


    The fourth and last person in the cockpit, Dwillard, finally spoke. ¡°Ah! There you are, Gwil! I was looking all over the place while they were talking to you. I couldn¡¯t figure out what was going on. You¡¯re so miniscule. That¡¯s badass.¡±


    Gwil gave him a small thumbs up. ¡°Thanks again for your help, man. None of this would¡¯ve happened without you.¡±


    Dwillard swooned and fell back into his chair.


    Ansoir groaned.


    Adeline bowed low. ¡°Please forgive my terrible manners, Lady Ophelia. I forgot myself in all this havoc. I assure you, there¡¯s no one better to treat Lord Ansoir¡¯s injuries than my lover, Buzzy.¡±


    ¡°Actually, heehee, I¡¯m not a surgeon, so there are many people better suited to this than me. There may even be a couple aboard this very airship. But I am always keen to improve my skills. I have narcotics for the pain, and I will rig something up to cauterize the stump, and that should be sufficient.¡±


    Buzzard pointed Ophelia toward a chair, and she sat Ansoir down in it. Then, the doctor set to preparing his medical things.


    ¡°Ahhh!¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°What if that big ship chases after us?¡±


    ¡°They can¡¯t,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Right you are, Megrim Daughter,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°That kind of ship does not possess the capability of simple, linear travel. It can only warp. That is why it¡¯s called a warpship.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Buzzard,¡± Leira cut in. ¡°Do you have any idea how Gwil might grow back to his normal size? I¡¯ve never seen this before, a Hallow getting¡­ stuck in their Invoke.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm, heehee. Neither have I. But I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll work itself out. It¡¯s a design of his Nirva, after all.¡± Buzzard yanked some wires out of the control panel, then swore at the ensuing puff of flames.


    ¡°It is a rather unusual Invoke. Not as fantastical as some, but devilishly complicated if you consider the minutiae of the thing. Look at him, breathing, talking, heart beating, the body working in perfect harmony despite being under a thousandth of its normal size. The sheer number of alterations is astounding. Imagine the complexity of the nervous system.¡± He shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s no wonder there¡¯s a learning curve.¡±


    ¡°Cool,¡± Gwil said. ¡°It¡¯s no big deal. I can get used to it.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous,¡± Leira snapped. ¡°It would be a huge deal if you were stuck like that. I don¡¯t want to carry you around on my shoulder all the time.¡± She rubbed her chin. ¡°But it is useful to be able to stuff you in my pocket whenever you misbehave.¡±


    ¡°Okay, Lord Ansoir,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°Which do you want first: the narcotic or the cauterization?¡±


    Ansoir groaned.


    ¡°Just kidding. Heehee.¡±


    Buzzard stuck a syringe into the crook of Ansoir¡¯s elbow and pushed the plunger. The doctor bobbed his head, counting down the time for the painkiller to take effect. Ansoir lost consciousness, and Ophelia cupped his cheek with her hand.


    Then Buzzard unwrapped the field bandage. Gwil cringed at the strips of bloody flesh that came off with it, all stringy like melted cheese.


    ¡°This is why I never go anywhere without my forceps,¡± Buzzard said, clicking them together. He picked up a red-hot metal plate and held it to Ansoir¡¯s arm.


    It sizzled and the smell of burnt flesh filled the cockpit. Gwil buried his face in Leira¡¯s hair. He¡¯d found that smells were overwhelmingly powerful when he was small. Unfortunately, Leira¡¯s hair didn¡¯t smell very good either.


    ¡°Done,¡± Buzzard said. Ansoir hadn¡¯t even twitched. ¡°There will be some nasty scarring, but as I said, I¡¯m not a surgeon.¡±


    For the first time since Gwil had met her, Ophelia seemed to relax. Though her expression remained unchanged, the difference was palpable.


    ¡°Hey Buzzy, listen,¡± Leira said. ¡°This is urgent. We can¡¯t be staying on this airship. We need to go north. Is there any way we can jump ship?¡±


    ¡°Hmm, of course there is. North, you say? Hmm. Why north?¡±


    Leira looked at Gwil, who shrugged.


    ¡°We¡¯re looking for Ashkana,¡± she said.


    ¡°Mmm. Mmmm. Yes. Heehee. Ultima Thule! That makes perfect sense. The last piece of the puzzle, yet it only reveals an even bigger puzzle. Well, you can disembark using my jetpack, which also has a parachute, as every jetpack should.¡±


    ¡°Hey, you didn¡¯t tell me about a parachute,¡± Dwillard said.


    ¡°Good thing,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°The parachute only works once, Dwillard. Now, quit dilly-dallying and give her the jetpack. Why are you still wearing it anyway, you fool?¡±


    Dwillard unstrapped the jetpack, and looking crestfallen, handed it to Leira.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mope,¡± Buzzard snapped. ¡°It¡¯s unbecoming of a genius¡¯s top assistant. Heehee. I have a second jetpack, of course.¡±


    Dwillard pumped his fists.


    Buzzard turned back to Leira and Gwil. ¡°You¡¯ll have a smoother landing than us, I suspect.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°But we have some business to settle. I did not rescue all these people solely out of the goodness of my heart. I was aware that saving them aligned with your motives, Gwilym. I am keen on having you as a debtor, and I declare that you owe me. Is that acceptable?¡±


    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t,¡± Leira said. ¡°Go fuck yourself.¡±


    Dwillard and Bethany gasped. Adeline raised her hand as if to slap Leira, but Buzzard caught her wrist.


    ¡°Nah, that¡¯s fair,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Gwil! He¡¯s been trying to save his own skin this whole time,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Marvelous,¡± Buzzard said, ignoring her. ¡°I am gambling on you, Gwilym, and I expect a tremendous return. I wonder though, heehee, do you realize exactly how far to the south we are?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯d you mean?¡± Leira snapped.


    ¡°Well, Mikara is one of the southernmost points in the western hemisphere. I¡¯ll be flying the airship over a short stretch of the Pacificum Sea, and we¡¯ll be landing on Arleen, which is home to Port Baktun¡ªthe final tip of habitable land in these parts. Only the impenetrable Nadir lays beyond.¡±


    ¡°WHAT?¡± Leira screamed. ¡°Fucking hell, I didn¡¯t realize I¡¯d ended up so far south. I thought we were at least kind of close to the equator.¡±


    ¡°You could not have been more wrong,¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°Oh wow,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Don¡¯t be like that, Leira. This is gonna be fun and we¡¯ll get to see a lot of stuff.¡±


    Leira tugged at two fistfuls of hair on her scalp.


    ¡°Now,¡± Buzzard said, ¡°which of you will pilot the jetpack?¡±


    ¡°Me, obviously,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Allow me to instruct you.¡±


    ***


    Buzzard escorted Gwil and Leira back to the hangar.


    ¡°Excuse me, miss?¡± a woman said, stepping out from the gaggle of servants. She had a baby in her arm, and another in a pack on her back.


    ¡°Sophia!¡± Gwil said.


    She looked around, confused, and then spotted him atop Leira¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Oh, my goodness! I¡¯m so sorry that happened to you.¡±


    ¡°We owe you,¡± Gwil squeaked.


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Leira said. ¡°Sorry I was such a bitch to you before. I was playing a character.¡±


    ¡°Owe me?¡± Sophia said, hand to her heart. ¡°I have my freedom because of you. My children will grow up free because of you. Not if I had a million years could I express my gratitude. But never mind all that¡ªI have something for you.¡±


    An older lady who¡¯d been standing behind Sophia dragged out two bulky objects.


    ¡°Our backpacks!¡± Leira said. ¡°How?¡±


    Sophia smiled. ¡°I spotted them while we were evacuating¡ªI recognized them. And I knew it had to be you two that had destroyed the mines. I could just feel it. I¡¯m so glad I can do something for you, even if it''s just a small help.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a huge help,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Thanks so much,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But we were gonna free everyone anyway. So Leira still owes you.¡±


    ¡°Huh? What do you want me to¡­¡± She opened her backpack and began rifling through it. ¡°Uh, do you like clothes? These are all ugly ¡®cause they¡¯re his but¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey Doc,¡± Gwil said. ¡°What are you gonna do with all these people? Where are you taking them?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Gwilym. I have a very wealthy associate who lives on an enormous compound, and he is always happy to take workers and refugees. I expect he will be a tad bit surprised, though. Heehee.¡±


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°That doesn¡¯t work for me. It sounds shitty. And it sounds exactly the same as Podexia. And a lot of them might have homes to get back to.¡±


    ¡°Gwilym,¡± Buzzard said, lifting his goggles. ¡°I swear on my mother¡¯s soul that they will be treated well. They will not be slaves. I will do everything in my power to ensure their safety and comfort. Every one of them will be free to leave, and I will offer whatever aid I can to help them return home, if that is what they wish. However, they must be treated for their Kaia withdrawals first.


    ¡°Fortunately, my friend is ludicrously wealthy, and a uniquely benevolent person. A philanthropist of the highest order, and a far better man than myself. If I didn¡¯t do right by these people, I¡¯d be breaking our agreement. And I am serious about having you in my debt. I will call upon you.¡±


    Gwil nodded. ¡°Thanks. I take back what I said when we met. Your mom would be proud of you.¡±


    Buzzard¡¯s lips quivered as he hastily lowered his goggles.


    ¡°Fuck it,¡± Leira said. She plucked a petal from her eyeflower and held it out to Sophia. ¡°I know it looks dead, but it¡¯s not. Plant it in the ground wherever you settle, and anything you grow in the vicinity will flourish.¡±


    Sophia stared at the wilted lotus petal in her palm as if it were a priceless jewel. She closed her eyes and brought it to her lips. ¡°You¡¯re like an angel.¡±


    Leira smiled.


    ¡°Heehee. Lady Leira, might I have one of those as well?¡± Buzzard said. ¡°I¡¯m terribly curious about the Megrim roots.¡±


    ¡°Go fuck yourse-¡± Leira stopped herself. ¡°Actually, sure. Why not?¡± She winced as she plucked another petal. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll find something useful.¡±

 Chapter Forty-Two – As Above, So Below

    Back in the hangar, Doctor Buzzard worked on Brock¡¯s engine with some strange tool. The boulders that comprised the Talus¡¯s body were vibrating, causing the entire airship to shake, and stirring much panic among the passengers. Buzzard insisted it was safe.


    Though he had no face with which to express his pleasure, Brock acted like a human enjoying a wonderfully relaxing massage.


    Leira tried to shake Cort awake. But he kept snoring on. She slapped him across the face. The smacking sound rang off the metal walls.


    Cort groaned and looked around with bleary eyes. ¡°Sweet, unholy demons, what happened? Why¡¯d you hammer nails into my feet?¡±


    ¡°Get up,¡± Leira said. ¡°We¡¯re leaving.¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± Cort stood and then fell over, giggling. Leira helped him back up.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Gwil?¡± Cort asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± Gwil squeaked from atop Leira¡¯s head.


    ¡°Pssht! I forgot you were so small. Idiot.¡± A small porthole caught Cort¡¯s eye, and he pressed his face against it. ¡°I forgot we¡¯re in the sky. How are we gonna get down?¡±


    ¡°Buzzard gave us a jetpack!¡± Gwil said. Leira turned her back to show it to him.


    ¡°Ah, let me do that,¡± Cort said. ¡°I have experience.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± Leira said.


    Cort crossed his arms. ¡°Well then, I am not coming with you.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t make me make you,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Okay, fine,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Go on, say your goodbyes,¡± Leira said.


    Cort held out his arms and stumbled into the embrace of the freed prisoners. He and several others began sobbing.


    Someone came thundering down the hall. Ansoir, but it was his mother doing the thundering as she chased after him.


    ¡°You guys are leaving?¡± Ansoir said.


    ¡°Mhm,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°I forbid it as Burgermeister of Podexia.¡±


    Leira laughed. ¡°Sorry we ruined your life. But I don¡¯t think you¡¯re such a piece of shit anymore.¡±


    Ansoir shook his head. ¡°No. I was a waste of skin. Ignorant and cruel. But you all treated me with mercy and kindness for no good reason. I know things would¡¯ve been easier for you if you¡¯d just killed me.


    ¡°I was more worthless than any slave¡ªerm, sorry. I¡¯m working on that. But I was a monster. I¡¯m glad you burned that terrible place.¡±


    ¡°You had a nice house though,¡± Gwil said.


    Ansoir waved that off. ¡°I don¡¯t know what awaits. And I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m cut out for it. But I will work hard to make up for the suffering that I caused. Even if I only make a dent, it would be better than nothing. And you don¡¯t have to believe me, because one day, you¡¯ll see it for yourselves.¡±


    ¡°I believe you, Antelope,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Me too,¡± Leira said. She held her right hand out, then grimaced and switched to her left, and then she gave Ansoir a hug.


    ¡°Try to get Buzzard to make you a robot hand,¡± Gwil said.


    Ophelia and Ansoir went to tend to the Burger, who was still splayed across the ground beside Brock.


    Gwil waved to Brock, and the Talus raised his giant rock hand to his head in a goofy salute.


    ¡°Cort!¡± Leira said. ¡°Hurry it up. Every second we spend flying the wrong direction translates to a lot more walking.¡±


    ¡°Clear the way, people,¡± Buzzard called.


    The crowd squeezed out some space around the hangar door. Buzzard pulled a lever to throw it open. A torrent of deafening wind rushed in.


    Cort lumbered over with a couple of escapees helping him stay upright. He raised his fist and yelled, ¡°Wahoo!¡±


    Buzzard helped Leira rig Cort up with a harness¡ªshe was already wearing hers. They also fastened Gwil and Leira¡¯s backpacks to Cort¡¯s sides and made sure to tie Cort¡¯s hammer extra securely. It seemed like a lot of weight, but Buzzard insisted the jetpack could hold three times as much.


    ¡°Although, it would be optimal to have the larger person in the back and wearing the jetpack,¡± Buzzard pointed out as Leira attached the front of her harness to the back of Cort¡¯s.


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°There¡¯s no way he will remember to deploy the parachute.


    Cort was half-asleep while standing up. Leira had attached herself to him. Her feet barely reached the floor as she tried to maneuver around.


    Gwil dodged away from her hand as she tried to pluck him off her shoulder. He climbed up onto her head and cupped his hands around his mouth. ¡°Bye! Thanks everyone! Good luck!¡±


    The escapees whooped and hollered. Leira twisted around to wave, and then grabbed Cort¡¯s limp arm and flapped it around.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, Gwil! I¡¯ll keep that promise forever,¡± Limmy cried out. ¡°Not a single one of these grimy fuckers will die on my watch, not as long as I¡¯m alive. It¡¯s for Isca, you hear!¡±


    Leira caught Gwil this time and stuffed him into her pocket. She dragged herself to the threshold and grabbed the handrail against the buffeting wind.


    Gwil pulled himself up to the hem of her pocket. Above him, Cort¡¯s slack face flapped ridiculously.


    ¡°Ooh! Look at the World.¡±


    It was endless. Pale dawn crept through the dark storm clouds. The misty spray of rain tasted cleaner than any water that Gwil had ever drank.


    To the west, green plains and gentle hills. To the east, the sea, and a foggy horizon. Gwil could just make out the silhouette of a cluster of islands. Bye, Reverie. He grinned. We¡¯re only going to go even further.


    And straight ahead. North. The Stormlands.


    There was no horizon¡ªan enormous swirling mass of storm clouds devoured it. From this height, it looked like the clouds reached the ground.


    An impossibly large, twisting wall. Flashes of green lightning bolted through the cyclone.


    ¡°Do you remember what to do?¡± Buzzard shouted.


    ¡°No shit,¡± Leira said. ¡°Or I wouldn¡¯t be standing here.¡±


    She inched to the edge of the ramp. Gwil dropped down into her pocket and grabbed hold of the lining.


    ***


    Leira leapt without thinking.


    They plummeted. She oriented herself to lie horizontally, as Buzzard had instructed. The adjustment was easy thanks to Cort¡¯s fat ass hanging from her chest like a sack of potatoes.


    Is this how it feels to fly?


    It wasn¡¯t so great. The initial rush was wonderful, but it waned quickly, as all good feelings do.


    Too big, too empty. Freezing cold. Nothing to do. And it was fleeting, anyway. They¡¯d hit the ground soon, so what was the point? Maybe it was better for birds and griffin. They flew under their own power, and they didn¡¯t have to come down.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    A light flashed on the altimeter mounted on one of the jetpack¡¯s control sticks. Leira activated the thrusters, and they boosted forward, faster than she¡¯d expected. Buzzard said they¡¯d make up a lot of the ground they¡¯d lost while aboard the airship.


    The doctor had programmed the altimeter to signal Leira every step of the way, letting her know when to adjust the thrusters and when to deploy the parachute. He called it ¡®foolproof¡¯.


    The World looked less ugly from up here. All the awful realities blurred into something obscure. A nice portrait of an empty landscape. A beautiful mask dressing a defiled corpse.


    Jagged streaks of eerie green lightning etched the sky in front of her.


    Leira was annoyed that she couldn¡¯t see past the Stormlands. Buzzard had warned her of that perilous place while assuring her they¡¯d be fine, stating that people crossed through the storm all the time. Apparently, there was no way around it. Here, the Mikaran continent was a narrow strip, and the storm reached from coast to coast.


    But what lay beyond? They had so far to go. Ashkana was an entire world away. They say she¡¯s been marching for a century.


    Leira smiled. Their quest was equal parts daunting and thrilling. And to have escaped Anesidyra by a hair¡¯s breadth¡­ Leira knew the queen¡¯s arrival was no coincidence.


    The Centipede Queen hunted her, and Anesidyra was not a woman willing to relinquish her desires. It could only end with a fight, then. Leira just needed to delay that eventuality as long as possible.


    With her heart of hearts, Leira believed Gwil could¡ªwould¡ªdefeat Anesidyra. But not yet. He needed to become much stronger.


    The wind bludgeoned Leira¡¯s face, and she was glad to have Cort as a partial buffer. The swirling droplets of water struck her like little pebbles.


    She¡¯d have to badger Cort about that Vermin commander he¡¯d dealt with. They were wandering blind, and she hated that.


    The altimeter blinked, and Leira adjusted the angle of the thrusters and gave them more power. She waited for the next signal¡­ there. She ripped the cord and deployed the parachute.


    The whirling scenery clarified as they decelerated in their descent. She could hear Gwil shouting and feel him squirming around in her pocket.


    Leira spotted Podexia by the inky black crater that Isca had created and then scanned the surrounding landscape.


    This had worked out quite well. They¡¯d lost a bit of their northern progress, but the airship had carried them some ways west, further inland. They were gonna land on the opposite side of a mountainous ridgeline that they would have had to cross, and that would¡¯ve been an absolute bitch. All in all, they¡¯d probably gained time.


    Five stories above ground, the altimeter flashed again, and Leira eased the thrusters back to a whisper. They¡¯d land on the fringes of a sparse, torn-up forest, about ten kilometers from the storm wall.


    Her feet touched the ground as gently as a fallen leaf and the parachute covered them like a blanket. Leira¡¯s whole body shook with relief. Perhaps she¡¯d been more scared of flying than she thought.


    Rotten though it was, the ground was firm beneath her feet. This was free and wild land¡ªthey¡¯d clawed themselves out of that Podexian nightmare.


    She felt knackered, and falling out of the sky was the cherry on top of a shit sundae. Leira wanted nothing more than a bath, a fluffy bed, a silk gown, and a nine-course feast.


    She collapsed, falling forward under the strain of Cort¡¯s weight. The idiot was still sleeping. Leira closed her eyes. They were so heavy. Just a little nap. And then we keep moving.


    Gwil crawled out of her pocket, feeling awfully dizzy.


    ***


    The Leviathan warpship vanished. In its wake, a massive cylindrical tunnel that carved through the height of the canyon wall. The scorched ruins of the Jaqlov manor lay exposed to the sky.


    Wisps of smoke trailed upward as rain fell into the cloven throne room.


    A pool of water and blood blossomed beneath the corpse of an old man. Life and death in their forever dance.


    His lips had peeled back, so his face bore a crooked grin. Perhaps he had a moment of peace, knowing he¡¯d done right by his dead comrades. He best cling to that solace, and pray it burns eternal. It just might¡ªDiom had proven himself patient and tenacious.


    We can only hope that Diom feels the rain, the fulfillment of a small dream. He is still alive, after all. Death is not true. Death is a bridge.


    Alas, the Hells await, insatiable.


    And so, they have the First Dream.


    ***


    Consciousness crept into Sheriff Jackson¡¯s foggy mind. His first thought was a desire to suck on a fat lip of chew. The second was a suspicion that he would regret being alive.


    He shouldn¡¯t have fought so hard to heal himself. Too damn stubborn. Same as it ever was.


    A groan escaped him as he tried to stretch himself awake and found that he could not move. Flat on his back, laying on a cold slab. Metal restraints bound his ankles, his waist, his wrists, his neck. Karma¡¯s a bitch, ain¡¯t it?


    ¡°Heh.¡± Jackson forced his eye open, and the blood that glued it shut crackled. It was too swollen to see anything more than a sliver.


    He could feel the mushy lump that was his other eye. Half-way regrown. Erithist. I¡¯m so fucked it¡¯s almost funny.


    The featureless metal room was not much bigger than the table upon which he lay. A too-damn-bright light hung overhead.


    What an absolute motherfucker of a headache. Feels like there¡¯s an axe stuck in my skull.


    That psychotic little demon had beaten him past hell. Toothpick had it right¡ªthe kid was audacious. The sort of person Jackson could almost accept getting beaten by. Why didn¡¯t you kill me, Gwil? I don¡¯t deserve this.


    The door slid open¡ªit sounded like a gasp. Jackson lifted his head as much as he could against the collar¡¯s icy chokehold.


    A woman entered.


    A centipede was curled around her neck, crawling in an endless circle. Jackson could hear its countless legs pattering, and he might¡¯ve pissed himself.


    The Centipede Queen was monstrous and ravishing¡ªthree meters tall with a statuesque physique. Jackson grimaced. Statues were the last fucking thing he wanted to think about.


    Her skin looked like a powdered donut that had begun to mold. Chalky white, but splotchy, and flecked with black-green spots. Like a deadly fungus.


    She wore black silk wrappings that hugged her body tightly in some places and hung loose in others.


    Heels clicked against the metal floor, and she came to stand over Jackson.


    Lush orange hair tumbled past her shoulders. Her eyes and lips were purple.


    Twisted little horns wreathed her face, protruding from her flesh at the top of her forehead and running down the sides to her ears. They looked like thorns on a rose bush. The surrounding skin was scabby and flaking.


    The queen regarded him, running her forked tongue across her lips. She smiled. Her teeth were a mess¡ªjagged and hooked, and some stuck out from the roof of her mouth.


    Despite it all, her beauty was intoxicating.


    ¡°Theodore Jackson. Do you know who I am?¡± she whispered, her voice husky, dripping.


    ¡°Queen Anesidyra.¡±


    ¡°Tell me what happened.¡±


    ¡°I got no excuse,¡± Jackson said. ¡°I fucked up.¡±


    She reached for his face. Her fingernails were as long as her fingers, blackened and rotten. She caressed his cheek, and he felt a warm droplet of blood ooze down his face.


    ¡°A Kaia deposit was destroyed,¡± she said. ¡°Talk.¡±


    Jackson wet his lips, felt the prickle of his mustache on his tongue. ¡°Some Hallowed kid started a prison riot. It got out of hand. They ran us over, bombed the Kaia. Our guards weren¡¯t trained for any real fighting.¡±


    ¡°And you?¡±


    ¡°I was complacent. I¡¯m old. The kid was strong. He beat me.¡±


    ¡°Tell me everything you know about this Hallow.¡±


    ¡°I dunno anything. He just showed up.¡±


    The queen blinked slowly, seductively. She looked at her hand and fluttered her fingers.


    Her hand blurred as she plunged her finger through Jackson¡¯s remaining eye. As he screamed, Anesidyra cooed at him.


    The pain transformed into overwhelming ecstasy.


    ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me.¡±


    ¡°His name¡­¡± The sheriff swallowed. His spit was thick and foamy. ¡°William.¡±


    ¡°William? What¡¯s his surname?¡±


    ¡°How should I know?¡± Jackson said. ¡°He came to destroy the Kaia mines. I didn¡¯t ask him to fill out any fuckin¡¯ documentation.¡±


    ¡°Do you have reason to believe that he is allied with the Vermin?¡±


    ¡°Could be,¡± Jackson said. ¡°He told me he wasn¡¯t. Just some lunatic who showed up out of nowhere and raised hell.¡±


    ¡°Did he not escape on an airship?¡± Anesidyra hissed.


    ¡°That was Doctor Buzzard¡¯s airship. He was in cahoots with them.¡±


    She ripped her hand free with her finger still lodged in his eye, tearing it loose. She swatted her hand and flung the eyeball away.


    ¡°I¡¯ll let you grow it back,¡± Anesidyra said as she wiped her finger on her silks.


    It didn¡¯t hurt at all, and that was when Jackson realized how fucked up he was on her poison.


    ¡°Don¡¯t use so silly a word as ¡®cahoots¡¯,¡± Anesidyra snapped. ¡°I hate that. This is a serious investigation. Buzzard, though, really?¡± She shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s so embarrassing.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re telling me,¡± Jackson grunted.


    ¡°Any other accomplices?¡±


    ¡°All the fuckin¡¯ prisoners for one,¡± Jackson said. ¡°They all rallied behind him. Jaqlov¡¯s son, for some godforsaken reason. Even Stondemaier wound up with him. And there was a woman with a flower for an eye.¡±


    Anesidyra again flashed her terrible smile. ¡°Oh, joy. I hoped she might be. It seems my little princess has found herself a new friend.¡±


    The centipede crawled down Anesidyra¡¯s arm and coiled itself in her palm. She stroked its raised head like it was a little kitten.


    ¡°A-are my men alive?¡± Jackson asked.


    ¡°Yes, I took them and everyone else in the town. They have been transformed. You are all mine.¡±


    Anesidyra stuffed her fingers into Jackson¡¯s mouth and wrenched down on his lower jaw. It snapped and hung loose. She was so swift and graceful.


    The centipede crawled into his gaping mouth. Its legs tickled his throat. He laughed as he choked.


    Good luck and good riddance, kid.


    ***


    Dawn was breaking. While Leira and Cort slept, Gwil had looked around the place where they¡¯d landed.


    They were on the edge of a ripped-up forest. He didn¡¯t stray too far. He was tired, and he didn¡¯t fancy running into a bear, or even a rat, for that matter.


    Gwil had gathered some twigs and branches to build a fire. It was arduous because of his tininess. He did not like being so weak and useless.


    With the help of a lot of Nirva, he¡¯d managed to collect a few log-sized pieces. But he could tell he was missing something important.


    When he surged his Nirva while he was small, it felt overwhelming. There was just too much for his little body to handle, and a lot of it leaked out. He had to do something about that.


    When Cort woke up, he gathered as much wood in two minutes as Gwil had in two hours.


    Presently, the three of them were lying around the fire. Leira had bundled herself up in a cocoon of blankets. She stared at the flames. They¡¯d eaten some dried meat from Gwil¡¯s pack and then fallen into exhausted silence.


    On the northern horizon, green lightning flashed without surcease.


    Gwil stared at it while nodding off into delirium. He couldn¡¯t sleep during those few hours that the others had. Too wired¡ªhe blamed it on the rush from falling out of the sky.


    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± Cort said. ¡°You need to stop being small.


    Gwil jerked at the noise. That was the first time any of them had spoken in a while.


    ¡°This is ridiculous,¡± Cort said. ¡°If I¡¯m stuck going around with you two idiots, you need to be a lot bigger than a bug.¡±


    Gwil yawned. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll wake up normal-sized.¡±


    Cort lunged forward and grabbed Gwil. ¡°I¡¯m gonna fucking eat you like a peanut!¡±


    ¡°Ahhhh!¡±


    Cort pinched Gwil by the foot and dangled him over his gaping jaws.


    Pop.


    Gwil came crashing down on top of Cort¡¯s head.


    Back at his normal size.


    So ends the Second Tale:


    Stone Cold Love

 Interlude – South

    Long gray hair whipping in the wind, Skuld stood on the bow of an immaculate wooden galleon. The ship plowed through a submerged iceberg like a knife through butter. Behind him, the sails and the wheel and all that nonsense worked themselves.


    How funny that at the same time those two kids were starting their journey north, Skuld was completing his own to the south.


    Ash had done something interesting to that kid¡¯s island. A protection of some sort¡ªSkuld had to fight to keep the memory intact. Luckily, he knew his sister¡¯s tricks.


    Skuld sailed through the thick of the Nadir. It was like a snow globe frozen in time, as if the worst hailstorm the World had ever seen stood completely still. That veil of frozen mist crackled into bits as the galleon crashed through.


    Through the icy haze, Skuld saw tiny pinpricks of light. There it was, at the very bottom of the World. Just like Ash said. That means it¡¯s hanging upside down, doesn¡¯t it?Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    The Necropolis of the Risen Terran Gods, colloquially known as the Nascent. Nethelam, the Spiked City. The home of the Pantheistic Crypt.


    ¡°Time to wake up, you damn slackers,¡± Skuld said to the wind. ¡°Hope you had a good sleep, Enkai, my old friend.¡±


    All he needed to do was figure out how to wake them up¡­ Or maybe ¡®resurrect¡¯ was a better word. It shouldn¡¯t be too tricky, though Nethelam was more of a prison than a crypt.


    Skuld reckoned that the return of the Nascent would be enough to draw out a Sanguine Eclipse.


    Ash had her plans, and he had his. The three of them¡­ all slaves to their unnatural natures. Skuld loved his sister, but she was taking too long, trying to save too much. And fuck knows what Aisae is doing. I dunno if she¡¯s even on this planet anymore.


    Skuld rubbed his bare arms, trying to remember how it was to feel cold. He wished he''d bought a jacket in Arleen so he could play the part. Wait, what am I doing? There must be one below deck. Seven days on this ship and he hadn¡¯t even had a look around. Oh, I¡¯m hungry too.


    Skuld stepped away from the bow and went to find a hatch that led below deck. This ship was too damn big.

 Chapter Forty-Three – The Heart is Willing

    ¡°We need you. We all drink of your will.¡±


    In his detestation of stagnation, the reckless Weaver pursues fell resurrections. So, it begins.


    A fiery slash across the sky, a stray piece of debris, cast off by your heedless heavens.


    The impact is catastrophic¡ªa spike through Gaia¡¯s heart.


    Her ravaged flesh melts away, revealing a tunnel of bone. An ivory bridge.


    Descend! Come along, little mote. Bear witness.


    Will you be able to live with yourself?


    String together driftwood, build a pitiful raft. Cross the River of Bliss. See your reflection in her Yalda¡¯blood surface. Weep into her murky black waters.


    Cower in the nooks and crannies as you sneak underfoot of oblivious Styzia.


    Find yourself dwarfed by the outer wall of the Ringed City. Glimpse the impossible fortress. Listen to her beautiful-terrible cacophony. Oh, how they howl!


    Flee! You will not dare. Your stars are conquered. Every neck rests on the block.


    Though the animals were the fiercer, your ancestors domesticated the wolves unto mutation.


    You overreached.


    Your stewards are not cruel. They cull the weak to water the roots.


    ¡°Isca!¡±


    Ambient screams morphed into birdsong as Gwil awakened. He wrinkled his nose at the foul taste in his mouth. Sweat prickled his skin.


    But the sunlight was warm, the breeze steady, yet gentle. Leira and Cort sat next to him, and something smelled delicious. Gwil¡¯s racing heart settled.


    Dreams are transient and easily forgotten.


    ¡°Good evening, sleepyhead,¡± Leira said.


    Gwil¡¯s stomach rumbled as he sat up. He clutched it and then gasped upon looking at Leira.


    She brandished a drumstick of meat at him. Gwil reached for it, but she snatched it away.


    ¡°Get your own,¡± she said. ¡°Cort¡¯s treat. I just woke up, too.¡± She ripped off a chunk of meat with her teeth. ¡°No better way for a girl to start her day. And Cort, I adore being catered to, so keep it up.¡±


    ¡°You eat like a pig,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Fank ¡®oo.¡±


    Cort tore the other drumstick from the charred bird beside him and handed it to Gwil. ¡°Buncha turkeys in those ruins.¡±


    Gwil turned to look while going in on the turkey leg like a beaver.


    He hadn¡¯t noticed last night, but the ruined forest ensnarled an even more ruined town. Crumbling concrete buildings peeked through the foliage. They were arranged in neat rows. Mangled thickets of vegetation filled the spaces between.


    The walls that still stood told of short, squat buildings, with the tallest crooked columns reaching no higher than two stories. This town had been even smaller than Reverie.


    ¡°Nothing special,¡± Leira said without turning around. ¡°Post-Apocalypse, probably Mid-Lunae. There¡¯re lots of failed settlements from that period. Things were even messier back then.¡±


    The forest had brought slow, arduous destruction upon the town. Tree trunks punched through buildings, vines gripped every surface, malformed mounds covered over buildings.


    Stranger was that the forest had been destroyed too. Most of the trees had been splintered or ripped out of the ground, roots and all. And many of those husks were blackened and burnt. Both the ruins and the ground bore jagged scorch marks. The plants had been stripped bare. Soggy, rotten leaves and scraps were piled in the corners. Muddy, flooded ditches scarred the whole area.


    ¡°That damage looks recent,¡± Cort said. ¡°And I¡¯ll bet that storm caused it.¡±


    ¡°Mm,¡± Gwil and Leira said, their mouths stuffed.


    Looking south, the sky was blue and clear. But a burgeoning darkness swept overhead, culminating in near blackness where stood the churning storm wall, some ten kilometers away.


    The wind blew ceaselessly in that direction, and all across the sky, clouds streamed toward the wall, drawn in like water circling a drain.


    Gwil tossed the cleaned turkey bone over his shoulder and then stretched his arms over his head. ¡°Whew, feels so good to be normal sized.¡± He furrowed his brow. ¡°But I wonder if I can shrink again.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Leira and Cort said.


    ¡°I gotta learn somehow,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Now is not the time.¡± Leira gestured at Cort for more turkey. ¡°And what about you, Cortemius? How¡¯s it feel to be out of prison?¡±


    Cort handed her a wing and then leaned back on his hands. ¡°The air is nice. I can¡¯t imagine how good it feels for the people that spent years trapped in there.¡± He yawned. ¡°Awful night¡¯s sleep, though. That centipede shit did my head in. And my poor feet.¡±


    Cort rubbed the gangrenous-looking things. He still wasn¡¯t wearing shoes. ¡°You¡¯re positive this isn¡¯t going to do permanent damage?¡±


    Leira swallowed while nodding. ¡°I could treat it for you in two days, but unfortunately, it¡¯ll be better by then anyway. Well, fortunately, I guess.¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°What¡¯s in two days?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you asked. I used such cryptic wording in hopes that you would.¡± Leira cleared her throat and sucked her fingers clean. ¡°I have bad news. I know we¡¯re all eager to get moving. But Cort, remember when I did the impossible and killed those guards to save the prisoners?¡±


    He nodded.


    ¡°I spent everything I had on that. So, what I need to do¡ªthis is going to sound weird¡ªis bury myself underground for two whole days.¡±


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Cort said.


    Gwil laughed. ¡°Are you gonna kill me again?¡±


    ¡°She killed you?¡± Cort said, throwing his hands up.


    ¡°No, no,¡± Leira said with a wave. ¡°I had to regrow my whole body that time. This is something different and simpler.¡± She pointed at the budding eyeflower. ¡°I just need it to bloom so I can use my spores again.¡±


    ¡°Whatever,¡± Cort said. ¡°I won¡¯t complain about taking some rest. I need to eat a dozen turkeys to get my weight back up.¡±


    Gwil and Leira exchanged a look. Cort was already a massive person, built like a brick house.


    ¡°Are you gonna be bored, Leira?¡± Gwil asked. ¡°Can we keep you company?¡±


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll be asleep.¡±


    Cort pointed toward the forest. ¡°There¡¯s a bunch of holes over there. Should we just throw you in now or¡­?¡±


    Leira clicked her tongue. ¡°When I¡¯m done eating.¡±


    Cort had set up a makeshift dressing station using an old metal sign and some chunks of concrete. He already had another turkey plucked, cleaned, and skewered with a spit. ¡°Wish we hadn¡¯t had to leave in such a hurry,¡± he said as he stuck the second turkey over the fire and sat down to turn it. ¡°We could¡¯ve grabbed a lot of useful shit. We have fuck all.¡±


    ¡°Dammit!¡± Gwil said, smacking his thigh. ¡°I forgot to take a little robot.¡±


    Leira laid back with her arms folded behind her head. Then she immediately shot upright. ¡°Cort, you need to take us to that Vermin commander.¡±


    ¡°Not gonna happen,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Why?¡± Leira snapped. ¡°Don¡¯t be so wimpy. They won¡¯t care about your botched job once we tell them about Gwil. And hell, they¡¯ll be thrilled we blew up the Kaia. Half the damn continent probably saw the sky light up.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s great,¡± Cort said. ¡°Except I¡¯ve got no clue where they are. Our rendezvous was three weeks ago. They¡¯re long gone.¡±


    ¡°Well, you need to find them,¡± Leira said.


    Cort mimicked her using an obnoxious voice and then said, ¡°Well, I was due to meet them in Arleen. So we can turn around if you want and waste a month wandering around down there.¡± He grinned. ¡°But we should¡¯ve just stayed on the airship if we were gonna do that.¡±


    Leira scowled and scoffed.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just keep going this way and see what happens,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We¡¯ll probably run into other Vermin people, eventually.¡±


    Just as the smell of the roasting turkey became intoxicating, Cort took the spit off the fire and set to carving the bird. He again gave Gwil and Leira the two legs.


    ¡°Thanks for cooking, Cort!¡± Gwil said as he chewed. ¡°You¡¯re super good at it.¡±


    Cort grunted.


    ¡°Yes, thank you. I¡¯m very glad you came with us,¡± Leira said. ¡°You¡¯re so sour I thought Gwil would have to drag you, kicking and screaming.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t let anyone drag me anywhere,¡± Cort grumbled. ¡°What do you even mean?¡±


    ¡°Soon as I saw you, I knew you were coming with us,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Eh? I might not stick around. Depends how much you two annoy me.¡± Cort grimaced. ¡°I¡­ feel like I owe you guys, on behalf of all the prisoners.¡±


    ¡°Very noble,¡± Leira said. ¡°But I don¡¯t buy that.¡±


    Cort¡¯s cheek bunched up tight at his scowl. He ate a few bites of food. ¡°Isca,¡± he said on a sigh. ¡°Isca thought there¡¯s something special about the two of you. I need to find her. I know she¡¯s alive, but she might need help. There¡¯s something weird going on. Seriously weird¡ªshe¡¯s in a cult or some shit. Please. I need you both to help me find her.¡±


    ¡°Awwww,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°Don¡¯t say please. Why are you even asking? Of course we¡¯re gonna go find her.¡± He jumped to his feet, dropping what remained of his turkey leg. ¡°Where is she? Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Leira tugged on Gwil¡¯s sleeve. ¡°Gwil, sit down.¡±


    ¡°Leira, can you do your buried thing in a wheelbarrow so we can get moving?¡±


    Cort started laughing.


    ¡°Do you have any idea where she might be, Cort?¡± Leira asked.


    Still chuckling, Cort shook his head. ¡°Not a damn clue. But she told me to find her. And she told me to go with you guys. This is the right path.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Leira said. ¡°I wonder what the hell she was trying to accomplish. Why would it be so important for her to destroy a minor Kaia mine? There¡¯s a thousand more, all over the World.¡±


    ¡°She just kept saying that she had to,¡± Cort said. ¡°Something about excising a poison. I don¡¯t fuckin¡¯ know. I definitely think it¡¯s a cult. Those tattoos.¡± He spat. ¡°I hate cults.¡±


    ¡°We should hurry though,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Go bury yourself, Leira.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t rush me,¡± she said. ¡°Ugh, Gwil, why are you still wearing those clothes? You got slime all over my fingers. Go change right now.¡±


    She shoved Gwil away until he stood and went to his backpack. As he started digging for clothes, he burst out laughing.


    ¡°Cort! You look like a giant, stupid¡­ ballerina or something! Bahaha!¡±


    The huge man was wearing Gwil¡¯s extremely undersized clothes. He wore one of Gwil¡¯s shirts with the sleeves cut off, and it fit like a crop top, exposing half of his belly, and tightly hugging his pecs. He¡¯d used the sleeves as a belt for the pants¡ªwhich he had to wear unbuttoned¡ªand he¡¯d cut the legs into flaps so that they hung around his knees like two skirts.


    ¡°What the fuck was I supposed to do?¡± Cort barked. ¡°I didn¡¯t pack a bag for prison, and my uniform was rancid. You assholes should¡¯ve thought to get me some clothes on the airship. I was too messed up to think of anything.¡±


    Gwil tugged free a pair of cargo pants and a flannel shirt and then dove back in to find socks and underwear.


    As he stripped out of the jumpsuit, Leira yelled, ¡°Holy shit, Gwil!¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Your chest looks terrible,¡± she said. ¡°Come over here.¡±


    Gwil finished putting on his pants and went to her. He looked down at himself. His chest was covered with patches of angry pink granulation tissue, and lumpy with oddly protruding ribs.


    ¡°Oh yeah, that¡¯s nothing. I meant to¡­¡± He pumped Nirva into his hands and then hammered his ribs back into place with the heels of his palms. Fresh skin began to creep in over the raw tissue.


    ¡°Damn,¡± Cort said. ¡°You look like a slice of pepperoni pizza.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± Leira squealed as she looked him over. ¡°What is this? How are you alive?¡±


    Gwil looked down at the spot into which she was jamming her finger. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not new. I¡¯ve always had that.¡±


    It was a nasty scar. Perfectly round, coin-sized, with a shallow bowl-shaped depression.


    ¡°Gwil, that¡¯s right where your heart is.¡± She grabbed him and spun him around. ¡°Oh my god, it goes out the other side.¡±


    Cort had come over to look too, and muttered, ¡°What the fuck?¡±


    ¡°This happened when you were a kid?¡± Leira said. ¡°How? It¡¯s not possible, Gwil.¡±


    He shrugged.


    ¡°Ah!¡± Leira yelped. ¡°That story. The dragon knight. This! This is why he was interested in you, why he left you alive. It has to be.¡±


    ¡°Ohhh! Cool. He did poke me there and so did¡­ uh¡­¡±


    ¡°Gwil!¡±


    ¡°What? What?¡±


    ¡°Why have you got a ¡®6¡¯ tattooed on your back?¡± Leira said.


    ¡°I do?¡± He turned his head to try to look. ¡°Is that a six? I thought it was a mole.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s definitely a six,¡± Cort said. ¡°And it¡¯s definitely a tattoo.¡±


    ¡°How was I supposed to know?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Cort said, examining the two scars on Gwil¡¯s front and back for himself. ¡°That¡¯s crazy. You really did get stabbed straight through the heart. Maybe you¡¯ve died twice.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say stupid things,¡± Leira muttered. She cupped Gwil¡¯s cheek and looked at him. The lotus bud quivered. ¡°What happened to you?¡±


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°I dunno.¡±


    ***


    As the last sliver of sunlight fell beneath the horizon, Leira jumped into the hole that she¡¯d chosen. The pit came pre-dug, courtesy of a toppled tree. Worms and other critters crawled among the tangle of roots.


    ¡°Ugh, it¡¯s all wet and muddy,¡± Leira groaned. But she laid down and crossed her arms over her chest. ¡°Alright, bury me.¡±


    Cort had hammered some scraps of metal into makeshift shovels. Gwil took a scoop of dirt, hesitated for a moment, and then dumped it onto Leira¡¯s stomach.


    ¡°This is weird,¡± he said.


    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fi-pffft! Fuck you, Cort,¡± Leira spat. ¡°You could see that my mouth was open.¡±


    ¡°Sorry! I thought if you¡¯re spending two days in there, then it didn¡¯t¡­ eh,¡± he trailed off.


    ¡°Listen. Don¡¯t let anything happen to me. And don¡¯t get yourselves in trouble. Please have food prepared for when I wake up. Sunset in two days. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll scream my head off when it¡¯s time. And then, the first thing we¡¯re gonna do is find a fucking bath.¡±


    Leira giggled as they buried her, and then she started snoring.

 Chapter Forty-Four – Loyalty

    ¡°So, that¡¯s your Invoke?¡± Cort said. ¡°You can shrink. Sometimes. Not that useful, is it?¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°It worked out. I can make it better. It¡¯s just hard to get used to, y¡¯know?¡±


    Cort chuckled. ¡°I bet. There¡¯s a reason bugs don¡¯t rule the World even though there¡¯s like trillions of them, probably.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s billion, actually,¡± Gwil said.


    They¡¯d moved their camp to a crumbled wall beside the hole in which they¡¯d buried Leira. It was after midnight, and an especially bloody moon gleamed, washing everything with crimson.


    Warm, thick wind fluttered without surcease, mingling with the cool dampness of the ground.


    Green lightning crackled across the entirety of the churning northern horizon. The jagged bolts etched the immense storm wall with a pattern like shattered glass. Terrible thunder growled within the storm, but the persistent rumbling was muffled. Both the lightning and the thunder seemed confined by the storm wall.


    ¡°Back in the mines, you must¡¯ve shrunk and squeezed into the tank,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Ahh, yeah! Probably,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°The fuck do you mean, ¡®probably¡¯? There¡¯s no other way.¡±


    They should¡¯ve been exhausted, but something had them wired. Perhaps that Leira slept beside them, buried alive in a grave. Anticipation hung thick in the charged air.


    ¡°Cort, you¡¯re just a normal person, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Gwil said, rubbing the scruff on his chin. ¡°I mean, I see that you¡¯re all muscly and stuff¡ªmy shirt really shows it off.¡± He gave him a thumbs up. ¡°But that hammer is very heavy.¡±


    Cort shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m good with weapons. My family, my tribe, all our ancestors, going all the way back to the Apocalypse. We¡¯re warriors.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Gwil chewed his lip while scratching at the soft mud with a stick. ¡°Isca told me the whole World is sick. It made me think that what we did in Podexia didn¡¯t make much difference.¡±


    Cort grunted. ¡°That¡¯s probably true. But it made a hell of a difference for all those prisoners. The little things matter. And they add up.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s shitty, though. I can¡¯t stand that. I¡¯ll fight against people like that forever if I have to. You should, too.¡±


    He looked at Gwil and then nodded. ¡°Yeah, alright.¡±


    Eventually, they fell into restless sleep.


    ***


    Restless, but refreshing enough. As soon as he awakened, Gwil crawled over to the loose patch of earth that covered Leira. Little wildflowers had sprouted, but that was the only sign of strangeness.


    ¡°I wanna check on her,¡± Gwil told Cort.


    ¡°No way, man. She explicitly told us not to disturb her unless there¡¯s a catastrophic emergency.¡±


    It was just after dawn, yet there was no morning chill to the air. Branches creaked and cracked, and the foliage swished, buffeted by the warm wind. Cort had been made to fashion a little wall around their firepit.


    Gwil¡¯s hair whipped across his face as he watched Cort examine his feet. They were still bumpy and discolored, but the swelling had gone down.


    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ centipedes,¡± Cort spat as he put on his socks. ¡°Leira was right, though. They don¡¯t hurt too bad anymore.¡±


    After Cort¡ªwith a small amount of wincing¡ªgot his boots on, they munched on some leftover turkey scraps.


    ¡°Turkeys lay eggs, don¡¯t they?¡± Gwil asked.


    Cort jumped to his feet. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ***


    Alive again, the flower danced as Leira slumbered.


    ¡°Hello, princess. I miss you. You¡¯re such a treasure. Won¡¯t you come back into the fold?¡±


    Leira writhed beneath the soil. Anesidyra.


    ¡°Did you find people who love you? I hope they love you. Will you use them and abuse them and leave them for dead, just like all the others?¡± Her shrill laughter raked through Leira¡¯s mind like claws. ¡°That is who you are, my sweet.


    ¡°You¡¯ll abandon them. You always do. Joy, companionship¡ªthe mundane pleasures of mortals? Not for you, little flower. Never for you.


    ¡°You and I are divine. They are insects. In their hearts, lesser beings desire only to serve their superiors. It gives them purpose. They are the dirt beneath our feet, and they salivate at the thought of a heel pressing down upon their throats.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°You cannot hide forever, princess. I will find you. If you care at all for their lives, you will leave them. You know well how¡­ unpleasant I can be. Return to me. I await with open arms.¡±


    ***


    East of Mikara, across the Pacificum Sea, there is an isolated island continent. Blessedly, it has been forgotten by the wider World and left unmarred. Those who remember call it Eami, the Land Without Evil.


    The landmass is shaped like a pair of vigorous lungs and is veined by thousands of rivers. Excised by the goddess herself, Eami is a precious sliver of Gaia. In her sanctuary, she will not abide humanity¡¯s presence.


    She thrives there. Her flesh is lush and vibrant. Pure. Speckles of golden sunlight fall through the canopy to grace the earth with countless little kisses. The rains are a never-ending gift. Every drop births a tiny miracle.


    Harmony. The land, the water, the fauna, the wildlife¡ªall are as one. They flourish and falter as the rivers flow.


    But Eami is of the World, so there is violence and devastation. Predators that devour; floods that lay waste. Even in paradise, certain cruelties must be accepted.


    It goes on.


    Upheaval. In a pocket of the sprawling jungle, the land erupts. Animals flee¡ªscreeching monkeys, roaring jaguars.


    Gaia makes a sacrifice. Trees that stood for thousands of years¡ªthat survived the Apocalypse¡ªsplinter as a long-buried child emerges.


    This child is called Grizelda. Her enormous body and her six massive legs are formed of bedrock, mud, gnarled roots, and scaly flesh.


    The hulking, tortoise-like creature draws itself upright as the earth caves in beneath her feet. She shakes the ages from the forest that grows atop her back.


    Grizelda blinks the dirt from her weary, sky-blue eyes and opens her reptilian mouth to loose a crooning cry. An age has passed since last she sang her lovely song.


    The ground shakes as Grizelda charges forward, plowing through the ancient jungle, making for the sea.


    Gaia, Goddess of the Earth, cannot help but have mercy for the children of her dead lover.


    ***


    ¡°Cort! This peanut butter is over two hundred years old!¡±


    Gwil tossed him the glass jar.


    Cort looked at the faded red label, which depicted a peanut doing a handstand. He wrenched the lid off and wrinkled his nose at the rancid stench.


    Cort turned the jar upside down, gave it a shake. The dry, crumbled contents spilled out. It looked¡ªand smelled¡ªlike dog food.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t eat¡ªugh! Why?¡±


    Gwil was dumping the contents of the jar into his mouth like he was drinking from a glass.


    ¡°It tastes like shit,¡± Gwil said as he chewed the hard, sticky bits, seemingly unbothered. ¡°But it gets better once your spit softens it up.¡±


    ¡°Not my spit,¡± Cort mumbled.


    They stood in some sort of ancient general store. Everything inside had suffered flood damage, and the place reeked of mold. The flooring and the walls had the consistency of wet cardboard. A tree had fallen through the roof, crushing the back half of the store.


    Heaps of various goods were strewn throughout the space. Most of it had deteriorated into amorphous clumps. There was clothing that had decayed into ribbons, burst batteries that spewed dry acid, and a bunch of rusty tools. A rainbow of spilt chemicals painted the floor.


    Cort and Gwil were most interested in the food, but they were coming up dry. Nothing looked any better than the peanut butter. Except for the bottle of vodka Cort had found in a cabinet. That had to be good still.


    The bottles of water had gone white and cloudy, and most of the canned goods had rusted open¡ªnot that Cort would¡¯ve trusted them anyway. The latest date he¡¯d seen was year 704.


    ¡°Oo! Cort!¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°Look at this.¡±


    He held up a bright red squeeze tube. The label, which had not faded at all, read, ¡®Zippy¡¯s Zooper Zesty Ztuff!¡¯. It had a picture of a chili pepper wearing sunglasses and wielding dual machine guns. Below the mascot it said, ¡®Exxxtra HOT!¡¯.


    Gwil uncapped the tube and squeezed some into his mouth. Cort watched through hooded eyes. The thick, saucy substance that oozed out was scarlet, close in color to Cort¡¯s hair.


    Gwil¡¯s face turned a shade that matched. His lips puckered up as his eyes watered.


    ¡°Wooow!¡± Gwil yelped. Cort would swear he saw a puff of steam come out. ¡°It¡¯s amazing! You gotta try it.¡±


    ¡°Fuck no,¡± Cort said. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here. There¡¯re a bunch more buildings to check out.¡±


    ¡°Just try it,¡± Gwil said, moving to block Cort from the door.


    ¡°I will never tr-¡±


    Gwil squirted a spurt of the ztuff into Cort¡¯s open mouth. If a single droplet had gotten in Cort¡¯s eye, he would¡¯ve wrung Gwil¡¯s neck. But it didn¡¯t.


    It had all gone into his mouth, and goddammit if it wasn¡¯t the most exquisite thing Cort had ever tasted. What an incredible explosion of flavor.


    Cort enjoyed spicy food, but this¡­ this Zippy¡¯s Zooper Zesty Ztuff was an ambrosia.


    It was much more than just fiery spiciness¡ªthat¡¯d be barbaric. No, the sauce had a sweet, tangy undertone, a mouth-watering savoriness, and a delectable, tingly smokiness.


    ¡°Alright, give me a tube,¡± Cort said. ¡°How much is there in all?¡±


    Grinning, Gwil flipped Cort a tube and said, ¡°I see¡­ four boxes.¡±


    ¡°Nice. That¡¯ll last at least a month. What even is it? Ketchup? Hot sauce?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just ztuff,¡± Gwil said as he sucked down a half-tube squirt. ¡°Hey, it says there¡¯s potassium in it. Ten mgs. Ten whole megagrams! It¡¯s healthy!¡±


    ¡°Fuck yeah,¡± Cort said. ¡°Gimme a couple boxes. We¡¯ll bring ¡®em to camp and then go see if we can find any more in the other buildings.¡±


    Gwil shoved some stuff out of his way, stacked two boxes, and passed them to Cort.


    Cort shouldered his hammer¡ªhe really needed to craft a harness for it¡ªand they made their way out of the store.


    ¡°I feel amazing,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m zooper wired,¡± Cort said, his teeth chattering. ¡°Feels like I drank a hundred cups of coffee.¡±


    ¡°Must be the potassium.¡±


    ¡°I dunno,¡± Cort said. ¡°It¡¯s been fermenting for like two hundred years, so who knows what¡¯s going on with it?¡±


    Gwil set down his two boxes. ¡°Watch this.¡±


    Cort felt a flash of heat as Gwil punched a hole straight through the concrete wall. The door frame collapsed, kicking up a cloud of dust.


    ¡°Idiot,¡± Cort said. ¡°You could¡¯ve crushed the ztuff.¡±


    They clambered over the pile of debris and made it back to the ruined street. Torn up chunks of asphalt sank into muddy tracts of earth. This whole town was like a giant clumped of ball of sticks and leaves and rocks.


    Misty rain fell, swirling with the wind. The wet surfaces reflected the green lightning that constantly flashed within the storm wall.


    ¡°You wanna eat a bunch of ketchup and then fight?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°Let¡¯s do it.¡±


    ¡°Ooh! Watch this!¡± Gwil put the boxes down again and then¡­ Pop! Pop! Pop!


    Gwil shrank and unshrank three times, bouncing between states instantaneously.


    ¡°Woah, nice!¡± Cort said. It¡¯d be great if Gwil got that shit under control.


    Gwil laughed. ¡°Ooh! Let¡¯s squirt some into the dirt where Leira is.¡±


    Cort grinned. ¡°Nah, I bet she¡¯d rather eat it.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, you¡¯re right.¡±


    They were nearly back to camp when a voice called out from behind.


    ¡°Hello there!¡±


    Gwil and Cort whipped around. Coming up the street was a man wearing a bright yellow jacket. A fluffy brown dog walked at his side.


    ¡°I¡¯m friendly, I¡¯m friendly,¡± the stranger shouted, holding his hands up.


    ¡°We¡¯re friendly,¡± Gwil yelled back. ¡°Can I pet your dog?¡±


    Cort palmed his forehead.


    The stranger smiled. ¡°Sure thing. I¡¯m Jayson, and this little guy is Argo.¡±


    The dog barked.

 Chapter Forty-Five – Smothered

    ¡°Damn, this is tasty,¡± Jayson said.


    ¡°Told ya.¡±


    They¡¯d brought Jayson and his dog back to their camp. Gwil knelt on the ground, scratching Argo¡¯s neck while the dog licked his nose.


    Argo was a spaniel of some sort¡ªshaggy brown fur speckled with white, floppy ears, a big, curious nose, and the sweetest black eyes. The dog stood at about knee-height.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been scared to touch any of the food here,¡± Jayson said. ¡°On account of it being over two centuries old. But I guess this Zippy¡¯s has got legs.¡±


    Jayson wore a knee-length yellow rain jacket, and a matching brimmed hat. He had pale skin and red hair¡ªthe normal orange kind, not like Cort¡¯s¡ªthat fell to his shoulders and a trimmed beard. He looked to be in his thirties.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since I saw such a healthy dog,¡± Cort said. ¡°His fur is so nice and shiny.¡±


    Jayson beamed. ¡°Yup. He¡¯s my best buddy.¡±


    ¡°Should we give some ketchup to Argo?¡± Gwil asked. The dog tilted his head at the sound of his name.


    ¡°Mm, nah. I think it¡¯s too spicy for him,¡± Jayson said, reaching out to give Argo¡¯s head a pat.


    ¡°Ohoho, what a nice dog,¡± Gwil said as Argo flipped over so Gwil would scratch his pink belly.


    ¡°So, what are y¡¯all doing here?¡± Jayson asked.


    ¡°Resting up and passing through,¡± Cort said, finishing off a tube of ketchup. Argo moved to Cort and started licking his fingers, trying to get at the ztuff.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you guys are cool,¡± Jayson said. His cheeks went a touch red. ¡°I¡¯ve been watching you, and I was worried at first. Y¡¯all snuck up on me, coming out of nowhere. It freaked me out that you weren¡¯t obscuring your Nirva. Just flaunting it all willy-nilly. Usually only the scariest folks¡¯ll do that.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡± Gwil said, looking up.


    ¡°You¡¯re Hallowed, Jayson?¡± Cort asked.


    ¡°Erm.¡± The man looked confused as he nodded. Cort smacked Gwil on the back of the head.


    ¡°How come he could sense you, but you couldn¡¯t sense him, Gwil?¡±


    ¡°I dunno how to¡­¡± As Gwil spoke, he squinted at Jayson. The man¡¯s yellow jacket glowed with a radiant golden aura.


    ¡°Ah! You¡¯re a virgin Hallow?¡± Jayson asked, grinning. ¡°That¡¯s scary. I didn¡¯t realize¡­ Your Nirva is very¡­ vibrant. How¡¯ve you made out so far? Y¡¯all looked pretty battered when ya showed up.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good,¡± Gwil said, scratching the back of his neck. ¡°It¡¯s only been like a week. I dunno how to do anything, though. Not on purpose, at least. You can see other Hallows? And hide yourself from them?¡±


    Jayson nodded. ¡°It¡¯s been a few years for me.¡±


    Gwil gaped. ¡°Could you show me some stuff?¡±


    ¡°Sure. If Argo trusts ya, then I do too.¡±


    ¡°Do you live here, Jayson?¡± Cort asked.


    ¡°Temporarily.¡± He took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair. ¡°I¡¯ve been on a sort of quest since I became Hallowed. And I think I¡¯m near the end.¡±


    ¡°Oo, what kinda quest?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been searching for some magic or something that would let Argo live forever. I¡¯m following a good lead. I¡¯m close.¡±


    ¡°Oh no!¡± Gwil said. ¡°Is he sick? We¡¯ll help.¡±


    ¡°No, no. He¡¯s fine. But he¡¯s six years old¡­¡± Jayson grimaced and shook his head. ¡°They just don¡¯t live long enough. It¡¯s not fair. I dunno if animals go to the Hells or not¡­ But either way, I couldn¡¯t stand it. I will make Argo immortal, no matter what I have to do.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s cool!¡± Gwil said. ¡°I hope you do it.¡±


    ¡°Aye, good luck,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Thanks. So, I¡¯m guessing y¡¯all don¡¯t know about the storms? On account of the fact that you¡¯ve been sleeping outside.¡±


    Gwil and Cort shook their heads.


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ve been lucky. Of course, I would¡¯ve come out and warned you if it came down to it. But tonight¡¯s the night. There¡¯ll be a nasty storm.¡±


    Cort pointed toward the storm wall. ¡°It won¡¯t stay trapped in there?¡±


    Jayson shook his head. ¡°Roughly every three days, it bursts, and we get a bad storm out here. But right afterwards, that¡¯s the best time to cross.¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Gwil looked up from nuzzling Argo. ¡°Cort, what about-¡±


    Cort cut him off. ¡°How long does it take to cross? We¡¯re not ready to leave yet.¡±


    Jayson put his hat back on his head. ¡°On foot, with a good pace, no stops besides a quick nap¡­ I reckon you can make it in two days.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Cort said, nodding.


    ¡°You wanna give yourself as much time as possible, though,¡± Jayson said, leaning forward. ¡°The conditions are always bad inside, but it¡¯s vicious when it swells to the peak. If you can afford to, wait for the next storm. That place is full of madness¡ªyou don¡¯t wanna cut it too close.¡±


    ¡°Shit, thanks for letting us know,¡± Cort said. ¡°You saved us.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Jayson said. ¡°Either way, you need shelter for tonight, yeah? Come stay at my spot. I¡¯ve been sleeping in a cellar at the other end of the ruins.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, thank you,¡± Gwil said as he fought to keep Argo¡¯s snout out of his mouth.


    ¡°We¡¯ve still got some time, right?¡± Cort said, looking up at the sky as he stood. ¡°How ¡®bout I cook us some food?¡± He nodded at Jayson. ¡°It¡¯s the least I can do.¡±


    ¡°Ooh! Ketchup with turkey,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Much appreciated,¡± Jayson said. ¡°In the meantime, I¡¯ll show you some tricks, Gwil?¡±


    ¡°Ooh!¡±


    ***


    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± Jayson said, pacing back and forth. ¡°We don¡¯t have enough time to get into the meat. And I¡¯m no expert, certainly not qualified to teach, so forgive me. But I can at least give you some things to chew on.¡±


    They stood facing each other in a clearing that was boxed in by a few ruined buildings. The rain fell in sheets. Jayson¡¯s raincoat flapped in the wind like a loose sail.


    ¡°Do you sometimes see traces of Nirva, like everywhere?¡± Jayson asked.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve had that a few times,¡± Gwil said, raising his voice above the wind. ¡°Like blurry rainbow lines cutting through the air.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Jayson said. ¡°So, detecting others and obscuring yourself. These two techniques are intimately connected. And it¡¯s all in the eyes.


    ¡°The way I was taught, obscuring yourself is called Nyx. And sensing others is called Mir.


    ¡°Nyx is simpler, so we¡¯ll start there. If I can at least get you on the right track before we part ways, we¡¯ll call it a win. Um, I guess what you should do first is try to get into that state where you can see the Nirva everywhere. It took days for me to learn to do that on demand, so don¡¯t feel bad if-¡±


    ¡°I see it,¡± Gwil said. He¡¯d surged Nirva into his eyes the same way he sent it to other parts¡ªwith a reflex similar to making yourself pee with a different part of your body.


    The ethereal veil flashed into existence. The change was as drastic as turning to the next page in a book. Countless threads, like so many running rivers, flickered through spectrums of color.


    The veil sheathed everything¡ªevery blade of grass, every stone and speck of dirt, each of the thousands of little bugs crawling through this muddy field. Even the air was full of threads, like an impossible carpet as big as the World and as tall as the sky.


    Despite this, Gwil could still see the mundane plane of the World just the same. His eyes showed him both things at once, as if this type of vision was a separate thing that existed in a different part of his brain.


    The swirling colors drifted across an infinite canvas. There was so much. Most things possessed a steadiness, their changing patterns followed a cadence akin to breathing.


    The threads that comprised plants shimmered from green to yellow to brown to black. The mud changed more slowly and had even less variance¡ªbrown to red to fiery orange. And all the bugs, just tiny dots shifting between white and black.


    Jayson and Argo both glowed with bright gold auras.


    ¡°Oh, uh, okay,¡± Jayson said. ¡°Well then¡­¡±


    Gwil didn¡¯t hear him. He¡¯d looked up at the sky and found it breathtakingly oppressive. Pitch blackness smothered the World. Within that darkness, rotten red-black Yalda¡¯blood, churning like a sea, forming bizarre shapes.


    The voices, which until now had been whispering more quietly than the wind, swelled into blood-curdling screams.


    Gwil looked back down and saw everything¡ªexcept Argo¡ªdrenched with that sickly hue. A deeper veil, beneath the prismatic one. Yalda¡¯blood bled from Jayson¡¯s heart. It flooded the earth; it choked the critters and poisoned the vegetation.


    Nausea struck. Gwil bent over and blinked away that madness. Jayson had appeared beside him and was patting Gwil¡¯s back while Argo whined.


    ¡°You see that gross shit, too?¡± Gwil rasped. ¡°The Yalda¡¯blood.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Jayson said. ¡°You looked too deeply. It¡¯s my fault. I should¡¯ve warned you. That is a cruel truth, best ignored.¡±


    ¡°And the voices?¡± Gwil asked, catching his breath.


    Jayson nodded. ¡°You need to be careful not to¡­ not to delve. That¡¯s how my teacher described it to me.¡± He licked his lips. ¡°I saw you there. I¡¯ve never seen Nirva like that. And my teacher was strong.¡±


    ¡°What is that stuff, though?¡± Gwil said. His mouth was dry. ¡°It¡¯s so wrong. Everything is full of poison. And the voices¡ªagony. Everything is drowning in agony.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Jayson said. He sat down on the ground and tugged at Gwil¡¯s sleeve to get him to do the same. ¡°It is suffering¡ªyou have the right of it. I can¡¯t help wondering about it too, even if we¡¯re not supposed to. It¡¯s dangerous.


    ¡°But it¡¯s like all the suffering in the World is filling the sky. A curse that everyone bears, and we Hallows are meant to witness it. That¡¯s what I¡¯ve gathered.¡±


    Argo wormed his way into Gwil¡¯s lap and gave him a slobbery lick on the cheek, then he squeezed himself between Gwil and Jayson and sat down.


    Gwil took a tube of ketchup from his pocket and squirted some into his mouth. He passed the tube to Jayson.


    ¡°My teacher let some things slip, and he¡¯s a man who¡¯s seen a lot of shit. He said something like¡­ All the gods and demons that were born during the Apocalypse¡ªthey¡¯re at war, or something like it. Our World is caught in the middle. Everything¡¯s gone to shit and we¡¯re just¡­ limping on, I guess.¡±


    Gwil laughed. ¡°What a big mess. Stupid Apocalypse. Buncha shithead gods.¡±


    Jayson took his hat off and crumpled it in his hands. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I was foolish to think I could teach you.¡±


    Gwil waved him off. ¡°No, it¡¯s my fault. But it¡¯s no big deal. I just won¡¯t do that again. Out of sight, out of mind.¡±


    Gwil got to his feet and held out his hand to pull Jayson up. ¡°I still want you to show me as much as you can. Hey, was your teacher¡¯s name Skuld?¡±


    ¡°No. I don¡¯t know any Skuld. My teacher¡¯s¡­¡± Jayson shook his head. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m down to keep going if you are.¡±


    ¡°Cool. Hey, what¡¯s your Invoke? I can shrink, but sometimes I get stuck, so I don¡¯t wanna do it right now.¡±


    ¡°Oh wow,¡± Jayson said. ¡°Uh, I can breathe fire.¡±


    Gwil¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°Whaaaat? That''s so cool! Show me, show me.¡±


    Jayson laughed and waved his hands. ¡°It sounds a lot cooler than it is.¡±


    ¡°Who cares?¡± Gwil said. ¡°C¡¯mon, do it.¡±


    Jayson cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and started blowing out as if failing at whistling. There was a puff of smoke, then a few sparks evolved into a steady stream of fire. He stopped to inhale more and then blew again.


    This time, the flames blossomed out. Jayson aimed at the ground. The grass smoldered and smoked, but the dampness kept it from fully catching on fire.


    Jayson blushed while coughing. ¡°S-see, it¡¯s not very strong. I¡¯m still working on it, though, and I¡¯ve been getting better.¡±


    Argo raised his leg and pissed on the blackened patch of grass.


    Gwil grabbed Jayson''s shoulders. ¡°That is the coolest thing I¡¯ve ever seen!¡±

 Chapter Forty-Six – Yes, I Would

    ¡°So, Nyx,¡± Jayson said. ¡°What we¡¯re doing is using the latent Nirva of the World to camouflage ourselves. You want to take your own Nirva and sort of disseminate it, make it calm.


    ¡°It¡¯s like spreading butter over a piece of bread, but you kind of¡­ do it with the essence of your Nirva? Uh, it¡¯s helpful to breathe deliberately. Exhale your Nirva into everything else, but also keep it with you.¡±


    Gwil stirred up a bunch of Nirva, enough that vapor trailed from his pores. But that wasn¡¯t right¡ªit was dwindling. Escaping. He inhaled, capturing it within, and then let out a slow breath.


    Calmness quivered through his roiling Nirva. The burning sensation in his limbs waned, but his bolstered strength endured.


    The veil, which had been rippling around Gwil¡¯s body, enveloped him.


    ¡°Hold it like that,¡± Jayson said. ¡°Let me see.¡±


    Gwil felt Jayson¡¯s gaze fall upon him as a sort of tugging sensation.


    ¡°Good, good. You¡¯re doing it. I don¡¯t see the slightest irregularity. That took me an entire month. Wait.¡±


    The tugging sensation strengthened. Some reflex of Gwil¡¯s batted it away.


    ¡°Gah, and what you did there is an aspect of Mir.¡± Jayson laughed. ¡°Have you been lying to me about how much you know?¡±


    ¡°Noo,¡± Gwil said, putting his hands up. ¡°It was instinct.¡±


    Jayson nodded and then walked closer. ¡°Nyx is something that, with practice, you¡¯ll start using passively. There are a lot of other factors, but with the basics and your¡­ proclivity, I reckon you¡¯ll figure it out.¡±


    ¡°So, all these colors, this veil. There¡¯s Nirva in everything?¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not the right way to think of it. It¡¯s more like Nirva is everywhere and it touches everything. But it is a part of us Hallows.¡±


    ¡°Weird,¡± Gwil said. ¡°So, can¡¯t this be used to find¡­ anyone or anything? I can see bugs and everything all over the place.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Jayson said. ¡°I can¡¯t do that. There¡¯s just way too much stuff. If you look beyond this field, everyone and everything coalesces into indistinct chaos. But Hallows stand out, like how a river parts around a rock.¡±


    Gwil nodded as he looked around. Past what his eye could see, the veil was like an incredibly dense forest packed to the brim with infinity.


    ¡°That leads me to Mir,¡± Jayson continued. ¡°There is a proportional relationship between Nyx and Mir, and it¡¯s based on the strength of the respective Hallows. But as long as you¡¯re not actively using Nirva, then even the lowliest Hallow¡¯s Nyx should still hide them from the strongest Mir, unless you¡¯re practically on top of each other.


    ¡°A lot of the time, Nyx and Mir will cancel each other out. But the Mir will catch spikes in Nirva usage, like the cast of an Invoke. The more Nirva you¡¯re using, the harder it is to hide.


    ¡°Eye contact and proximity have a huge impact. It¡¯s possible to see through walls and across great distances, but the efficacy is much weaker. It¡¯s important not to over-rely on Mir, or you¡¯ll get yourself into trouble when it fails.¡±


    Gwil¡¯s eyes had glazed over. He puffed up his cheeks and blew out. ¡°I already forgot half of what you said.¡±


    Jayson laughed. ¡°I¡¯m bad at explaining. In my defense, we¡¯re discussing the metaphysics of existence itself. It¡¯s hard to put to words. But you¡¯ll be fine. I can tell you¡¯re a natural. Wanna try using Mir on me?¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡±


    Jayson took a few steps back. ¡°I¡¯ve dropped my Nyx. Look for me.¡±


    Gwil squinted and saw Jayson awash with lustrous gold.


    ¡°And now, try to focus on my aura as I use Nyx.¡±


    Argo growled. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s okay, buddy,¡± Jayson said.


    Gwil focused harder as the golden light faded into the veil. There was a moment of tug-of-war before Jayson¡¯s Nirva disappeared, leaving the man indistinguishable from the rest of the prismatic collage.


    ¡°Keep looking¡ªI¡¯ll use my Invoke.¡± Jayson breathed out a few wisps of fire. Both his body, and the flames, flashed gold.


    ¡°Woah,¡± Gwil said.


    Jayson nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯ll wanna look out for. It¡¯s all a big balancing act, weighing a Hallow¡¯s strength, the quality and quantity of their Nirva, eye contact, distance. Try to keep all those factors in mind.


    ¡°And practice, practice, practice. Use Nyx and Mir both all the time, and eventually it¡¯ll become second nature. That way, you keep yourself hidden, and you see as much as you can see.¡±


    Gwil knelt and clapped his hands. Argo came running over, ears flopping. ¡°Thanks so much,¡± he said to Jayson.


    ¡°I hope it was helpful. I wish I could do more. I can¡¯t imagine how difficult it must be without a proper teacher.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s super helpful,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯ve probably saved us from a ton of trouble.¡±


    Argo ran to the edge of the clearing and started barking.


    Jayson laughed. ¡°His nose is better than my Mir. I¡¯ll bet that¡¯s the turkey.¡±


    They started making their way back to the camp.


    ¡°Does breathing fire chap your lips?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°It did at first,¡± Jayson said.


    ¡°What happens when you sneeze?¡±


    ¡°I do need to be careful with that. Burnt down my bed once cause I blew my nose with a tissue.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Good timing,¡± Cort said as he took the turkey off the spit.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Argo was already there, tangled up with Cort¡¯s legs as he set the bird down on the table he¡¯d put together.


    ¡°I was gonna baste the turkey with ztuff,¡± Cort said, ¡°but I wanted Argo to be able to eat it too. Did you learn anything, Gwil?¡±


    ¡°Tons,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But forget that. Jayson can breathe fire.¡±


    Cort looked over his shoulder. ¡°Damn, really? That¡¯s badass. I bet it''s handy with this never-ending rain.¡±


    Jayson shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not bad, but I couldn¡¯t cook a big turkey like that without passing out.¡±


    Cort ripped off the turkey legs and gave one to Gwil and the other to Jayson, who gave it to Argo.


    They sat down to eat, and Gwil slathered the drumstick with ztuff.


    ¡°Wowowow!¡± he said, devouring the meat like corn on the cob.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cort said. ¡°This is great. With this ketchup, it doesn¡¯t even matter what food we have. Everything will taste amazing.¡±


    ¡°Cort, did you find any eggs?¡± Gwil asked. ¡°The ketchup would be so good with eggs.¡±


    ¡°Just a few smashed ones,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°I have eggs at my place,¡± Jayson said. ¡°That¡¯s what I eat the most, ¡®cause I¡¯m no good at cooking. We can have some while we hunker down from the storm.¡±


    ¡°Great, I¡¯ve got vodka too,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°From here?¡± Jayson said. ¡°Damn, I thought I¡¯d procured all the liquor.¡±


    Argo had gobbled up his drumstick, bone and all, and now moved between the three of them, licking fingers and eating scraps.


    ¡°Jayson, what¡¯s the deal with these Stormlands?¡± Cort asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s a damn good question. I actually grew up around these parts. And it¡¯s always been like that. My grandparents and even their grandparents say so. It¡¯s gone on like this for at least a couple centuries.¡±


    Gwil glanced over at Leira¡¯s temporary grave. He focused his Mir and saw¡­ nothing. Looking deeper, he gasped and flinched out of it. Beneath the fledgling wildflowers, a gnarled, writhing mass of Yalda¡¯blood, like a ball of tar.


    Gwil clenched his jaw. You poor thing. He couldn¡¯t wait to kill the shit out of that Centipede Queen.


    Dusk fell and with it came a torrent of rain. They got their camp situated and then made for Jayson¡¯s place.


    ***


    Carrying their backpacks and four boxes of ketchup, Gwil and Cort followed Jayson to a small house in the corner of the town.


    The roof had collapsed, but three of the walls still stood. They went inside and descended a dark stone stairwell. There was a bang, followed by clattering metal falling down the steps.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± Cort said as he stumbled down the last few stairs.


    Jayson flicked on a Kaia lamp that hung on the wall, and pale blue light illuminated the dank cellar.


    The far side of the basement was filled with a pile of deteriorated crap¡ªfurniture and boxes. The near side was an open space with a couple of chairs and a heap of blankets and pillows. In the middle was a Kaia torch with a cooking pan sitting on its top.


    ¡°Decent digs for the middle of nowhere,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°I was staying across the street,¡± Jayson said. ¡°But it kept flooding. I¡¯m only comfortable in the cellars because of the storms.¡±


    Gwil went to examine a strange black cube. It hummed quietly and gave off a bit of heat.


    ¡°Is that a fridge?¡± Cort asked, nodding toward the cube.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Jayson said, hanging his jacket on a hook. ¡°That and the torch are both collapsible. Those things brought me across three continents.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, you said you¡¯re from around here, right?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Make yourselves at home,¡± Jayson said, gesturing to the pile of blankets. Gwil plopped down next to Argo and Cort sat down in a chair.


    The storm began to rage outside. The house had minimal sound isolation. Rain barraged the ceiling, thumping like drums. Hailstones tinkled against the stone. The wind groaned as it tunneled through the ruins of the house.


    The first major thunderclap came, and Gwil felt it in his bones. The whole house shook. Green light flashed down the stairwell. Despite the racket, Argo slept soundly.


    Careful not to look too deep, Gwil used Mir and glimpsed the storm in all its glory. Countless droplets fell from a vibrant green sky, shining like stars. Fuzzy static sparked through the air like an enormous swarm of lightning bugs.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Jayson said, eyes toward the ceiling. ¡°Everything¡¯s already collapsed, so nothing¡¯s gonna crush us.¡±


    ¡°Guess that¡¯s our sign to start drinking,¡± Cort said, pulling the bottle of vodka out of his backpack.


    Jayson handed him two tin cups and a bowl, which Cort promptly filled. He gave Gwil and Jayson each a cup and kept the bowl for himself.


    ¡°Hmmm.¡± Gwil said, cup of booze in one hand, tube of Zippy¡¯s in the other. He glanced up at Cort, who was watching him.


    Gwil squeezed some ketchup into the vodka and swirled it around to mix it. He took a sip, swished it in his mouth, and swallowed.


    ¡°It¡¯s way better than plain alcohol, but not better than plain Zippy¡¯s.¡±


    Cort grimaced. ¡°I¡¯ll just enjoy them separately.¡±


    Argo perked his head up at another boom of thunder and then resumed sleeping.


    ¡°He¡¯s used to it?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°Yeah, he grew up around here, too.¡±


    ¡°Oh shit!¡± Gwil said, jumping up. ¡°Cort, uh, remember I buried my¡­ favorite pair of shoes underground at the camp? Do you think they¡¯ll be okay?¡±


    Cort went wide eyed. ¡°Are you only just remembering that now? I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be fine. Probably safer than this basement. No offense,¡± he added to Jayson.


    Jayson laughed as he popped open the fridge and reached inside. ¡°You guys want those eggs? I¡¯m dying to try them with the ketchup.¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡±


    The Zippy¡¯s paired much better with the eggs than with the vodka.


    Safe from the storm¡¯s fury, they passed the night, drinking and eating and laughing.


    ***


    Jayson crossed the ravaged Stormlands. Dawn had yet to break. The air was heavy with weary tranquility in the wake of the night¡¯s storm.


    Layer upon layer of earth had been scoured away, leaving a kilometers-wide depression of cracked and barren bedrock. Nothing but shades of gray as far as the eye could see, just stone and fog. A brief respite before the jade lightning returned.


    Bundled up in his jacket, Argo was a ball of warmth against his chest. The dog still slept.


    Jayson had a spring in his step. Anticipation, and that his pack was lighter than he was accustomed to. He¡¯d left his refrigerator and torch behind for Gwil and Cort.


    Finally, his journey neared its end.


    And it would end where it began, as he¡¯d always known¡ªand feared¡ªit would. Honor had forced him to fight against this outcome. His efforts proved futile.


    Jayson laughed. Time to return home.


    To the northeast, the silhouette of a mountain loomed, coming into greater clarity with every step. Ankai Denai. The Palm of the Outsider.


    His home, the home of his people, and the place where it was kept. The Altus Panacea.


    Jayson felt bad about leaving Gwil and Cort without saying goodbye. He liked them, but he couldn¡¯t risk getting tied up with them. Best to get away.


    They seemed like good people, and he could not abide that. Plus, they had a fucking goddess or something sleeping in the dirt at their camp.


    Hell, they might¡¯ve been up to worse shit than he was. Jayson wanted nothing to do with any of that. I just want to save my dog.


    Funny that he¡¯d gotten to enjoy a night of simple pleasures¡ªdrinks and food with new friends. New stories and plentiful laughter. That was more than he deserved.


    A crack splintered through the bedrock. Jayson stopped in his tracks.


    A massive, carapace-covered creature erupted from its burrow, spraying stone and dust.


    He wrapped his arms around Argo and turned his back on the shower of debris.


    A vivid green shell, four meters tall, six long, eight scuttling legs and two nasty claws. It was a rock lobster. The beast stomped around, clicking its massive claws.


    Jayson¡¯s invasion of the lobster¡¯s territory had sent it into a frenzy.


    He fixed it with a glare. Cowed, the creature ceased its flailing.


    But the lobster only swung around, backing up to take a defensive position and raising its claws.


    Jayson grimaced. He¡¯d hoped the beast would flee at his use of Mara. But hundreds of black eggs clung to the underside of her abdomen. She would fight.


    Jayson zipped up his jacket to cover Argo. Then he inhaled, breathing in as deep as he could, filling his lungs with terrible fire.


    As if blowing out a candle, Jayson unleashed an inferno of red and gold flames¡ªDragonfire. Just a single puff.


    His breath enveloped the rock lobster. The unreal heat burned its shell to black in a heartbeat. The creature¡¯s legs curled inward. It collapsed, stiff and charred, smoldering as the flames dissipated.


    Jayson could hear its flesh sizzling inside its shell. As he went around the corpse, he did note that it smelled quite tasty. Maybe Gwil and Cort would pass by and get to eat it for dinner.


    Damn. I should¡¯ve taken some of that ketchup. They wouldn¡¯t have minded.


    Argo whimpered from inside his jacket. Jayson unzipped it and lowered his face so the dog could lick him.


    ¡°Sorry, buddy,¡± he said in a high-pitched, babyish voice. ¡°But I¡¯d destroy the whole World for you.¡± Jayson nuzzled Argo. ¡°Yes, I would. Yes, I would.¡±


    Grinning, Jayson pressed on, and Ankai Denai loomed larger.

 Chapter Forty-Seven – Rise and Shine

    Gwil awakened and found that he¡¯d fallen asleep with a tube of ztuff in his hand. He squirted some into his mouth to wash out the foul taste, then sat up and stretched.


    Cort slept slumped over in his chair, with his ass halfway on the seat and his head on the floor. Jayson and Argo were gone. Gwil assumed he¡¯d taken the dog out for a walk.


    The absence of the wind and rain engendered a strange stillness. The Kaia torch was putting out some heat, and that gave Gwil an idea.


    He looked over the device¡ªa metal cylinder with a glass section where bubbly sprites of Kaia danced about. Its top had a heating coil, and the frying pan still rested upon it.


    Gwil cranked up the knob for the stove and then went to the fridge and gathered six eggs. He cracked them all into the pan, broken yolks running everywhere. This pan could not accommodate so many eggs. Oh well, too late. Gwil sat down and leaned back on the pile of blankets while the eggs cooked.


    He was awakened by Cort¡¯s screaming and the pungent smell of something burning. The cellar was hazy with black smoke.


    ¡°Fucking idiot,¡± Cort said. ¡°We¡¯re guests here. Where¡¯s Jayson?¡±


    ¡°I was just making everyone some breakfast.¡±


    Cort shoved the frying pan in Gwil¡¯s face, confronting him with a charred and still-smoking black glob.


    ¡°With the ketchup they might still be-¡±


    Cort dumped the burnt mass into Gwil¡¯s lap. He poked at it and found that it was like a rock.


    ¡°Don¡¯t waste food. That¡¯s a shitty thing to do. And don¡¯t burn down people¡¯s living spaces.¡±


    Gwil cleared his throat against the smoke. ¡°Yeah, sorry. Jayson took the dog out, I think.¡±


    ¡°No, he didn¡¯t,¡± Cort said, looking down at a scrap of paper. He passed it to Gwil.


    It read:


    Sorry to run off, but I¡¯m in a hurry. Needed to get an early start on the gap between storms. You can keep my fridge and torch. Nice meeting you, thanks for hanging out ¨C Jayson + Argo


    ¡°Aw, what the hell?¡± Gwil said. ¡°I thought we might go through the Stormlands together. I hope he at least took some Zippy¡¯s for himself.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s for the best,¡± Cort muttered. ¡°It¡¯s weird of him to leave us this stuff, though. That fridge is worth a lot of doubloons. It collapses down to the size of a briefcase. He left us some dishes too.¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°If you gotta go, you gotta go. Let¡¯s get outta here. Leira¡¯s gonna wake up in a few hours.¡±


    ¡°Thank fuck,¡± Cort said. ¡°He left some clothes and a backpack, too. These¡¯ll fit me much better than your doll¡¯s clothes. I was gonna ask him if I could borrow something.¡±


    ***


    It was near midday when they made it back to Leira¡¯s burial site. The storm had further damaged the town, but the place was already so ruined that it was more like the damage had just changed shape.


    The patch of dirt was now thick with overgrown wildflowers. The blossoms had bloomed so much that the flowers drooped to the ground under the weight, and the surrounding grass now reached waist high.


    ¡°That¡¯s crazy,¡± Cort said. ¡°What is she?¡±


    ¡°Just Leira. That centipede lady wants her, by the way. We¡¯re gonna have to fight her some time.¡±


    ¡°I figured. That¡¯s fine with me. I¡¯ve got a bone to pick with her, too. My feet still aren¡¯t right, and that poison made me act like an ass.¡±


    Gwil laughed.


    ¡°Did Leira really kill you?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she was stuck in some big flower and had to kill someone to get herself out, I think.¡±


    Cort furrowed his brow. ¡°How¡¯d she find you?¡±


    ¡°I was just walking in the woods. I lived in Alnam, you know? Just off the coast of Podunk. I¡¯m from¡­¡± Gwil scratched his chin. ¡°Serenity¡­ Celery? No. What? Why can¡¯t I remember? Reverie! That¡¯s it. But yeah, it was just a lucky coincidence.¡±


    ¡°Okay, sure,¡± Cort said.


    Gwil watched as Cort crafted a harness for his hammer that would allow him to carry it on his back. He used the leather straps from Jayson¡¯s backpack, along with some cloth, strips of scrap metal, and rusty nails from the ruins. The end result was quite impressive.


    Cort stood and jumped around to test the harness¡¯s hold. ¡°Alright, that¡¯ll do. Let¡¯s get packed up so we can leave as soon as Leira wakes up.¡±


    Gwil looked around. They had nothing to pack except the ketchup.


    Cort dumped two boxes into his new backpack, filling it. They started stuffing the rest into Gwil and Leira¡¯s bags, sliding the tubes in between folds of clothing.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I think Leira would be mad if we threw away any important stuff to fit more ztuff. Wanna just eat the rest and then fight?¡±


    ¡°Finally,¡± Cort said.


    ***


    Gwil landed three successive punches against Cort¡¯s stalwart block. On the fourth, Cort caught Gwil by the wrist, lifted him up, and then slammed him down on his back.


    Gwil rolled away as Cort made to body slam him¡ªhe¡¯d already done that trick three times. As he rolled, Gwil aimed a kick at Cort¡¯s shin, but ended up connecting with his own shin instead of his foot. The bone cracked and then simmered as it fused back together.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± Cort said. ¡°This is boring if you don¡¯t use Nirva. I¡¯ve fought plenty of Hallows.¡±


    Gwil jumped to his feet, breathing hard. ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t think you can handle it or whatever. But I can¡¯t control it. Especially not when I¡¯m all hopped up on twenty tubes of ztuff. I punched through concrete yesterday.¡±


    ¡°Bleh, bleh, bleh,¡± Cort said, beckoning Gwil forward.


    Gwil ran at him, feinting low before jumping up while drawing his fist back.


    Cort ate the blow to his jaw like it was nothing and threw Gwil on the ground again.


    ¡°Boring,¡± Cort said. ¡°At least use your shrinking or something. You need to practice.¡±


    Pop.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Gwil squeaked. He dashed away from the place he¡¯d been standing and then used Mir. He saw Cort as a column of rough stone that flowed between red and cold gray.


    But he was looking for something else. As Cort stomped around, Gwil darted toward a beetle that was crawling on a blade of grass. He was only as small as a shirt button, but the grass kept him hidden.


    Gwil grabbed the critter by one of its front legs and hoisted it up onto his back, carrying it piggyback style. The beetle¡¯s other legs writhed against Gwil¡¯s back. He giggled at how it tickled.


    Giving Cort a wide berth, Gwil circled around to climb up the back of his leg. He tried to get the beetle to help, since bugs could climb up walls, but the stupid thing was panicking and being uncooperative.


    Cort stopped pacing around and said, ¡°What the hell are you doing? What¡¯s the point of this hide-and-seek bullshit?¡±


    Stifling laughter, Gwil made it to Cort¡¯s shoulder. He held the beetle up over his head, then pumped Nirva into his legs and jumped straight upward. He threw the beetle right into Cort¡¯s earhole.


    ¡°What the f-¡± Cort¡¯s hand immediately flew up to smack himself on the side of the head. Gwil went wide-eyed as the giant hand obliterated the beetle, splattering its guts across Cort¡¯s ear and cheek.


    Pop.


    ¡°Asshole,¡± Gwil said, back at normal size. ¡°You killed my bug.¡±


    Cort brushed off his hands and swiped away the guts from his cheek. ¡°Gross. That¡¯s not what I meant, you little moron. I meant you should try to integrate your shrinking into your hand-to-hand fighting. Use it to dodge and disorient and all sorts of things.


    ¡°Ohhh,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Good idea. Okay, let¡¯s go.¡±


    They squared up, circling each other. Cort charged forward and threw a punch. Gwil shrank and then jumped with a boost of Nirva.


    Pop. He grew back mid-leap, tried to swing at Cort and whiffed. He was soaring upward, way higher than he¡¯d intended. Arms flailing, Gwil guessed he was about four meters high when he started coming back down. Pop.


    He shrank as he fell and landed feet first on a blade of grass. It quivered at the impact but held¡ªhe¡¯d made himself extra tiny this time. Gwil gasped. He¡¯d been so high up and he hadn¡¯t even staggered upon landing.


    ¡°You must¡¯ve kept your momentum from when you were big,¡± Cort said. ¡°I bet you could go even higher.¡±


    Startled by Cort¡¯s booming voice, Gwil toppled off the blade of grass. He stood up, smiling, feeling excited¡ªso much to learn about this shrinking stuff.


    Pop.


    He grew back. The method he used to escape from the smothering syrup of shrinkiness resembled the strange burst of energy that makes you jump out of bed when you¡¯ve been startled awake. The instant alertness, like when you discover that you¡¯ve overslept on an important day or find that you fell asleep with a bowl of tomato soup and spilled it everywhere.


    Cort¡¯s fist filled Gwil¡¯s vision. Pop. He darted between Cort¡¯s legs. Pop. He flicked Cort on the ear. Pop. He dodged Cort¡¯s spinning kick and grabbed hold of his pant leg as it passed overhead.


    Gwil grew back, wrenching Cort¡¯s leg upward, causing them both to fall to the ground.


    ¡°Nice, nice,¡± Cort said. ¡°You¡¯re doing it. That¡¯ll be killer once you get it down.¡±


    Gwil shrank¡ªthat felt much more natural than growing back to size. The syrup pooled around him constantly, another layer of the veil. All he had to do was dive in.


    He stayed in place as Cort turned, anticipating another reversal. Pop. Gwil shot up and smacked Cort in the back of the head.


    Cort tried to grab him, but Gwil shrank again, then moved in close and hit Cort in the ribs. Pop. He accidentally grew to waist height this time and punched Cort in the stomach. Pop.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Gwil squealed. ¡°I¡¯m stuck!¡±


    That frantic sensation that he¡¯d been clinging to had vanished. Gwil doubled over, gasping for breath, only now realizing that he felt exhausted and woozy.


    He let his Nirva flow fully. He¡¯d been keeping it at bay so he wouldn¡¯t accidentally punch a hole through Cort¡¯s body. The voice sang as the soothing fire surged through his veins, revitalizing his limbs.


    There we go. But no. Gwil gritted his teeth. He still couldn¡¯t grow back. He flailed his arms as if drowning, then jumped up and down.


    Cort knelt down, looming like a building, and started laughing. ¡°Leira is gonna be fuming.¡±


    Gwil gulped. ¡°Dammit. I thought I fixed this.¡±


    ¡°Because you messed around for fifteen minutes?¡± Cort said, scoffing. ¡°What a joke. You can¡¯t expect this to come easy. I expect you¡¯ll spend your whole life learning about these powers.¡±


    ¡°Maybe if I swim around in some ztuff. Pour me a little puddle of it, would you?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Cort said, sitting down on the ground to watch. ¡°Grow back on your own.


    Pacing back and forth, Gwil grabbed his wrist and began tugging at his arm, trying to stretch it out. So annoying. He did some jumping jacks, trying to grab at the air and pull himself into bigness. He imagined the feeling of missing the last step on a staircase. Then the weightless sensation of losing your footing whilst barreling down a hill. Nothing.


    ¡°I¡¯M AWAKE!¡± came a quiet, muffled scream that would¡¯ve been blood-curdling if it weren¡¯t smothered by a pile of dirt and fifty meters of distance.


    Pop. Like a reflex. Gwil looked around and wiped his brow upon seeing that he was indeed normal sized.


    ¡°Ha! She put the fear of god into you,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°We¡¯re coming, Leira!¡± Gwil screamed as he ran to her. Cort chased after him.


    Gwil stumbled to a halt and then grabbed their makeshift shovel and started flinging away scoops of dirt. Cort knelt on the ground and dug with his hands.


    The earth shifted at Leira¡¯s thrashing. Her muddy, grinning face emerged through a shower of dirt. The eyeflower had bloomed anew. Its crimson pigment was vibrant, shiny as blood.


    ¡°I feel wonderful!¡± she said, laughing and wiping her eyes clear. ¡°Super refreshed. Hurry up and free my legs.¡±


    ¡°Hey Leira!¡± Gwil said, tossing the shovel aside to help her squirm free. She climbed up and sat on the edge of the pit, her legs dangling in the hole.


    ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± Cort said. ¡°¡¯Cause we need to leave right away.¡±


    ¡°Tch! What¡¯d you guys do? We¡¯re not leaving until I eat. Ugh! I¡¯m freezing cold and soaking wet.¡±


    She reeked of damp earth. Her clothes were stained completely black, and her skin and hair were smeared and clumped with mud.


    ¡°It rained a lot,¡± Gwil said, helping her to her feet.


    ¡°We have two days to cross the Stormlands,¡± Cort said. ¡°Or we¡¯ll get pummeled by a storm.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯d you know that?¡± Leira said while arching her back to stretch.


    ¡°We met a local,¡± Gwil said. ¡°He could breathe fire, and he had a dog.¡±


    Leira frowned. ¡°I missed a dog?¡±


    ¡°You can eat turkey while we walk,¡± Cort said. ¡°We have a fridge now. Hurry up and get dressed.¡±


    Leira pirouetted her way over to her backpack, moving as if flowing with the wind.


    ¡°Why the fuck is my backpack full of¡­ ztuff?¡± Leira said, while searching for a change of clothes.


    ¡°Ooh! Leira, do you wanna feel zooper refreshed?¡± Gwil said. ¡°Try it, you¡¯ll love it.¡±


    ¡°Hm?¡± She unscrewed the cap and squirted a dab of ztuff onto her tongue.


    Her face twisted. ¡°Eww, this is fucking disgu- oh wait, no. I love it! Yum, so spicy!¡±


    Leira washed herself off in the basin that Cort had set up to collect fresh rainwater, then changed clothes while they readied to leave.


    ¡°What did being buried actually do for you?¡± Cort asked.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Leira said, finishing an entire tube of ztuff in a single pull. ¡°Anything that a plant can do, I can do better.¡±


    They strapped on their backpacks¡ªalong with the jetpack, the Kaia torch, and the fridge¡ªand gave the camp a final once over.


    Then, they set out down the fractured road that cut through the town. Ahead, intermittent green lightning crackled to life across the churning horizon that was the storm wall.


    So ends the Third Tale:


    Sleeping Dogs Lie

 Interlude – On the Beach in Eden

    Buzzard and Adeline hastily readjusted their clothing as the lift doors opened. Hand in hand, they stepped out onto the promenade, both smiling as they breathed in the sweet scent of the surrounding orchard.


    Overhead, through the dome¡¯s artificial sky, the real sun¡¯s light gleamed where it reflected off the glass surface. Sneering, Buzzard raised his hand against the glare.


    This environmentalist nonsense¡­ He could not believe that someone so brilliant as Anaximander wasted so much time and money on such an obviously lost cause. Always blathering on about nature¡¯s abundance in the Old World and humanity¡¯s place in the ecosystem. The time to worry about that is long past, you fool! The ecosystem is nonexistent. Nuclear radiation is hardly any worse for humans than butter these days.


    For fuck¡¯s sake, Anax wears a robotic exosuit and he¡¯s worried about tending to plants?


    Sensing his annoyance, Adeline patted Buzzard on his head. His stiff, frazzled hair crinkled at her soft touch. He looked up at her and smiled, then looked out across the pristine redbrick promenade.


    The Podexians had settled in quite well. How could they not? Anax had named this dome ¡®Eden¡¯¡ªso pretentious. His magnum opus.


    To the right, a sandy beach surrounded a crystal-clear, humanmade lake. Ophelia and Stondemaier sat on the water¡¯s edge, baking in the fake sunlight like the rocks they were. They hardly ever left that spot.


    A gaggle of Podexians were swimming, a few zipped about on personal watercrafts. Ansoir, Dwillard, and Bethany were surely among that group. The three were becoming fast friends.


    Others played volleyball, and even more lounged¡ªcolorful drinks in hand¡ªin the chairs surrounding the robot-serviced tiki bar. A mother and two children sat building a castle in the sand.


    Anax had forbidden any of the former prisoners from performing any actual work in Eden for one year while they recovered from their trauma and their Kaia dependence. ¡°Your only job is to relax and recover,¡± he¡¯d told them. After that, they were allowed to do as they wished¡ªthey could even continue living as hedonistic loafs!


    That order had cost Buzzard his assistant. Officially, at least. Which was very unfair¡ªDwillard had been only half a slave at most.


    In truth, Buzzard was eternally grateful, and more than glad to forgive Anax for his eccentricities. He was a good man, and with that, certain absurd behaviors had to be expected and accepted.


    Anax had welcomed them with open arms. The only cost was that Buzzard had to endure constant comments about how Anax had always known that Buzzard had a heart of gold. Bullshit. Science has no heart. It simply is.


    ¡°Hey Buzzard!¡± Limmy shrieked from the volleyball court. ¡°Get over here and play! We need your stupidly long arms.¡±


    Buzzard smiled but waved her off. He was a superb volleyball player, but he had work to return to. Adeline had dragged him away from the lab, forcing him to go out for some fresh air. He was stretched too thin, splitting time between treating Kaia withdrawals, analyzing the footage of the Kaia explosion, and examining the petal of the Megrim flower.


    ¡°This is a wonderful thing you¡¯ve done, Buzzy,¡± Adeline said. ¡°I¡¯m very proud.¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t and wouldn¡¯t have done it without you, my lover. Heehee. It¡¯s wonderful as long as it pays off in the end.¡± He held up a finger. ¡°I will exact a favor from Gwilym Oubliette. And I¡¯m willing to wait years for the opportune moment.¡±


    Just then, a rumbling sound disturbed the quiet revelry. Buzzard looked up and saw Anax streaking across the sky, having launched from the peak of his fortress.


    Anax dove lower, scanning the promenade, and when he was over Buzzard¡¯s head, he oriented himself vertically and descended using the suit¡¯s rocket boots. Gray vapor trailed from the thrusters. Clean Kaia. So wasteful.


    With a soft metallic clang, the man touched down on the ground in front of Buzzard and Adeline.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± Anax said. ¡°I was appalled to find your lab empty, but I see Adeline must have dragged you outside.¡± He gave Adeline a small bow.


    ¡°Yes, she insists on an entire thirty minutes every twenty-four hours,¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°I insist on far more than that,¡± Adeline said. ¡°But it¡¯s a losing battle.¡±


    Anax smiled, showing off his perfect teeth, accentuating his perfect jawline and high cheekbones. What an absurd caricature of a man. He had black skin, a perfectly bald head, smooth and shiny and not at all misshapen. Buzzard ran a hand through his own withered hair.


    The exosuit gleamed¡ªa marvelous metal masterpiece comprising hundreds of thousands of components working in perfect symphony. The dark gray plating was accented with anodized blues and greens. Kaia coursed through the conduits that connected the joints.


    This was Anax¡¯s so-called casual suit. He had a dozen others, all engineered for different specializations. Buzzard¡¯s favorite was the one that had a back-mounted nuclear reactor and an array of laser weaponry. It turned the wearer into something far greater than a one-man army.


    ¡°I have troubling news, Buzzard,¡± Anax said.


    ¡°Is it urgent?¡±


    ¡°Very. Anesidyra¡¯s warpship just appeared off the coast.¡±


    Buzzard choked and spasmed as Adeline gasped and clung to him.


    ¡°W-w-w-what do we do?¡±


    Anax leaned down to put an armored hand on Buzzard¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I can handle her. I doubt she desires conflict. She approaches the port as we speak, with only a small retinue. There is no sign that she intends aggression.¡±


    Buzzard swooned. ¡°Heehee. I could kiss you, old friend.¡±


    ¡°You will come meet her with me,¡± Anax said.


    ¡°Why? I rescind my offer!¡± Buzzard spat.


    ¡°She has a nasty temper. It¡¯d be best if we can provide a small measure of appeasement.¡±


    ¡°I am not a small measure of appeasement.¡±


    ¡°Would you rather hang onto my back, or ride in this little sack?¡± Anax held up a black mesh bag.


    Buzzard weighed the two options. ¡°I¡¯ll go on your back.¡±


    ¡°I know it¡¯s a big ask,¡± Adeline said, ¡°but if you could keep this quiet, that¡¯d be ideal. I don¡¯t want our little flock to fear for their safety.¡±


    ¡°That is my hope, Adeline,¡± Anax said. ¡°Come, Buzzard. We shouldn¡¯t test her patience.¡±


    Anax crouched and two footholds deployed from the sides of the exosuit¡¯s knees. Buzzard stepped up and placed his hands on Anax¡¯s shoulders.


    Trying to keep his jaw stiff, Buzzard waved goodbye to Adeline. With a roaring whoosh, the thruster boots erupted and the exosuit launched skyward, or rather, ceilingward.


    Buzzard took in the view of sprawling Eden. The distant edges of the dome extended into the surrounding sea¡ªit was actually a massive sphere.


    The large island¡ªfifty kilometers off the coast of Arleen¡ªhad been terraformed into something resembling a miniature version of the planet.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    They were in the center, in the yard of Anax¡¯s towering fortress, which he called the Ark. At the dome¡¯s northern edge, a squat mountain range covered with ice and snow. The tiny flitting dots on the slopes were people skiing.


    Those mountains gave way to a rolling tundra. The next third of the space was devoted to two sprawling forests, bisected down the middle to separate the species of trees based on their natural groupings. The fortress sat in a clearing at the center of this forest.


    South of the fortress, a vast rainforest, an impenetrable green mass engulfed by mist born of Anax¡¯s weather generators. That end was capped by another icy stretch.


    Buzzard licked his lips. Despite its frivolity, Eden was perhaps the greatest scientific achievement in all the World, and likely in all of history, since the Old World was plagued by belligerent idiocy.


    Nearing the eastern edge of the dome, they descended to land on a bridge that crossed over a body of water. This was Eden¡¯s sea port.


    ¡°She¡¯ll have questions for you,¡± Anax said as Buzzard climbed down from his back. ¡°Try not to tell her any lies.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m well aware,¡± Buzzard snapped, tugging at his collar.


    They moved to the far end of the bridge, where an enormous pneumatic hatch was embedded in the dome¡¯s thick glass wall. Anax flashed a hand signal at the woman who operated the door from a booth.


    A man-sized door set within the larger door hissed open.


    They entered the air lock. The door closed behind them, and a second door opened at the other end, letting in the sound of the sea and the smell of pollution.


    Upon stepping out into the real world, Buzzard¡¯s already quickened breath hitched. Some three kilometers distant, Anesidyra¡¯s warpship hung over the sea, a blight in the sky.


    Anax¡¯s metallic hand pressed against Buzzard¡¯s pack, pushing him forward. Buzzard had not realized how he¡¯d subconsciously drifted back to hide behind his friend.


    ¡°She¡¯s always had a flair for the dramatic,¡± Anax said.


    Buzzard went up on his toes to see over the edge of the dock.


    Anesidyra rode the sea on a chariot. A team of five abominable sea creatures pulled her cart. Spliced hybrids¡ªBuzzard saw traits of dolphins, centipedes (of course), and frogs. The creatures thrashed as they porpoised through the waves.


    Just two attendants accompanied the Queen. Two women dressed in flowing white gowns with veiled faces.


    Anax folded his metal-clad arms. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just me. But she¡¯s not hard on the eyes. Not at all.¡±


    ¡°Anax,¡± Buzzard said.


    ¡°Hm?¡±


    ¡°Please remove your head from your ass.¡±


    They stepped back from the dock as Anesidyra¡¯s chariot made its final approach. The creatures were machinelike in the way they slowed to pull up perfectly alongside the dock. Puppets, not animals.


    Buzzard had never seen the Centipede Queen in person. He vehemently disagreed with Anax¡¯s assessment.


    Her skin was chalk-white, sickly and fungal. Her purple eyes and her purple lips made her look undead, which of course she technically was. A crown of thorns sprouted out of her face. Though she was diminished standing below the dock, her height was still imposing.


    The Queen floated upward, graceful, her black silks and her orange hair streaming in the wind. Her stiletto heels clicked down on the dock¡¯s metal surface. The two attendants remained in the chariot, standing still as statues.


    Buzzard gaped. She wore a living centipede like a necklace. It crawled in a circle around her neck.


    Beside him, Anax bowed. Looking up at him, Buzzard was surprised to find that he himself had fallen to his knees.


    ¡°Queen Anesidyra,¡± Anax said. ¡°To what do I owe this pleasure?¡±


    ¡°Anaximander,¡± she said. ¡°Shall I bother with the needless pleasantry? You¡¯ve already provided me with the little cretin that I seek.¡±


    Buzzard scrambled to his feet, but kept his eyes pointed downward. He considered jumping into the sea and letting those creatures devour him.


    ¡°Only if you enjoy the dance,¡± Anax said, smiling. ¡°Doctor Buzzard and I are friends from our college days.¡±


    Buzzard stole a glance at the Queen as she smiled back at Anax. A mistake¡ªher teeth were like a shark¡¯s. Buzzard was glad that he had not bothered to remove his catheter when Adeline had summoned him for their walk.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather cut to the chase,¡± Anesidyra said. Her voice was silky. Narcotic. ¡°I am aware of all that transpired in Podexia. I took captive every single person who was left behind. I know that Doctor Buzzard is a traitor to the Leviathan. And I know that you¡¯re harboring the insurgents, as well as Lord Jaqlov, here in Eden.¡±


    ¡°And yet you¡¯ve come alone,¡± Anax said. ¡°I¡¯m flattered.¡±


    Buzzard wanted to feed Anax to those beasts! Was he attempting to be flirtatious with the Centipede Queen? For fuck¡¯s sake, he¡¯d been the one stressing that they shouldn¡¯t antagonize her.


    Anesidyra sighed, and Buzzard smelled a poison sweetness on her breath. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest. I don¡¯t give a damn about the Kaia incident. Theodore Jackson and the others have satisfied my desire to impart punishment. And I would not risk war with Eden over something so paltry as a dribbling Kaia vein and a few slaves.¡±


    ¡°Then why have you come?¡± Anax said.


    Anesidyra pressed her fingertips together. ¡°I¡¯m intrigued by what I¡¯ve heard of the ringleaders. I¡¯d like to ask Doctor Buzzard a few questions, as I¡¯ve confirmed that he conspired with them.¡±


    Buzzard gulped so loudly that the sound echoed.


    ¡°And if I refuse to allow that?¡± Anax said.


    Anesidyra smiled again. ¡°I am willing to war for the answers that I seek.¡±


    ¡°Then it would only behoove me to acquiesce,¡± Anax said.


    Anesidyra scowled and her eye twitched. She snapped her fingers. Materializing from a cloud of white spores, the two attendants appeared beside Buzzard.


    Before he could so much as flinch, one of the women swept out Buzzard¡¯s legs and pinned him down on his stomach with her knee. She grabbed hold of Buzzard¡¯s wrists and laid his hands flat on the surface of the dock.


    The second attendant stood over him. She pressed her narrow heel down on the back of his hand¡ªlightly enough that he didn¡¯t scream, but hard enough that he wanted to cry.


    ¡°I¡¯m flabbergasted by this show of force,¡± Anax said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t use language like that around me!¡± Anesidyra shrieked, turning on Anax and raising her hand against him. But she did not strike him. Instead, she pointed her finger in his face. ¡°You¡¯re doing that on purpose because you know it bothers me. If either of you use another silly word, I will kill Doctor Buzzard where we stand.¡±


    ¡°I would be willing to war over that,¡± Anax said.


    She huffed and then stalked over to stand beside her attendant. Buzzard heard the pitter-patter of the centipede¡¯s crawling feet.


    ¡°Buzzard,¡± the Queen said. ¡°The incident was orchestrated by a Hallowed man named William, and a woman with a flower for an eye. Her name is Leira. I know that you¡¯re very familiar with them both. Are either of them being harbored in Eden?¡±


    William? ¡°No.¡± Buzzard didn¡¯t know what constituted a silly word according to Anesidyra¡¯s idiosyncrasy. He¡¯d be punished for having a splendiferous vocabulary? Preposterous.


    ¡°But it is true that all the insurgents escaped with you on your airship?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d actually prefer if you called them ¡®refugees¡¯,¡± Anax said.


    Buzzard squealed through clenched teeth at the stabbing pain in his hand. Anax, you stupid bastard. ¡°Yes, that is true,¡± he said, gasping.


    ¡°Were William and Leira aboard your airship?¡±


    Gods, was it even possible to lie to this woman? Her presence was overwhelming; sweat poured down Buzzard¡¯s face. A monstress wearing human flesh. ¡°Yes.¡±


    Buzzard whimpered, though the attendant had not so much as twitched. He did not want to betray Gwilym and the Megrim Daughter. Dammit. He¡¯d told Anax his theories about those two.


    ¡°Then where did they go?¡± Anesidyra hissed.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    The sharp heel crushed down on his tendons, digging between his metacarpal bones.


    ¡°I swear I don¡¯t know! They jumped ship. I gave them a parachute.¡± More pain. ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡±


    ¡°Permanent damage to my friend¡¯s hand would cross my threshold for violence, Ani,¡± Anax said.


    Anesidyra gestured and the attendant took her foot away.


    The Queen glared at Anax. ¡°I want proof. Allow me to search for them inside Eden.¡±


    Anax laughed. ¡°No. You will not step foot in Eden.¡±


    Buzzard felt her gaze fall upon him again. Like plunging into icy water.


    ¡°What was their purpose?¡± she asked. ¡°Why did they destroy the Kaia? Why did they leave Jaqlov alive?¡±


    Buzzard squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. ¡°They just wanted to free the slaves. They didn¡¯t care about anything else.¡±


    ¡°Vermin?¡± the Queen spat.


    ¡°That¡¯s a definite possibility,¡± Buzzard said. ¡°It¡¯s my best guess.¡±


    ¡°How did you end up allying with them?¡±


    ¡°To save my own skin.¡±


    ¡°Where exactly did they-¡±


    Anax cut in. ¡°I¡¯ve entertained this long enough, Anesidyra. You will take your leave now.¡±


    The Centipede Queen smiled and sashayed over to Anax. She placed her hand on his cheek. Her fingernails were like rusty knives. The centipede crawled down her arm, coiled around her wrist. Even with his exosuit, Anesidyra dwarfed Anax.


    ¡°If I discover that you¡¯ve deceived me, I will annihilate your little garden, Anaximander. I will take the two of you, flay you both, and feed you each the other¡¯s skin. Then I will enslave your ravaged bodies and use you as furniture or some such awful thing.


    ¡°Make no mistake, it is not out of fear that I avoid conflict with you. It is merely pragmatism, and the knowledge that I can always return later.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been a pleasure, your grace,¡± Anax said. ¡°Let¡¯s make the next time sooner than a decade.¡±


    With a wave of her hand, Anesidyra whisked her attendants away. They reappeared in the chariot.


    ¡°Anaximander. We know about your Great Machine.¡± With that, Anesidyra fluttered her fingers in farewell. She turned and drifted into the chariot.


    Her sea creatures screeched to attention and pulled away.


    Anax had gone pale as a ghost. Tendons twitched in his neck and a vein bulged from his forehead. Buzzard had never seen anything like fear on Anax¡¯s face. Still, it was fleeting, gone after a couple of heartbeats.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get you some ice for that,¡± Anax said, helping Buzzard to his feet.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Buzzard said, though he couldn¡¯t stop shaking as they made their way back up the dock.


    ¡°That went well enough,¡± Anax said.


    Outrage stole away Buzzard¡¯s perturbation. ¡°What? Your antics nearly got me killed. Your recklessness could¡¯ve gotten your precious Eden destroyed!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous,¡± Anax said. ¡°She was bluffing. And I was distracting her. It¡¯s called a tactic. She secretly adores me, anyway. I¡¯m proud of how you handled yourself.¡±


    ¡°I saw you piss yourself when she mentioned the Great Machine.¡±


    Anax sighed. ¡°Buzzy, my friend. We are young men in a game dominated by ancients. We must tread carefully.¡±


    Buzzard tugged at two clumps of his hair as they entered the airlock. ¡°I need a break. I¡¯m gonna go get drunk and play volleyball.¡±

 Chapter Forty-Eight – One Hand in My Pocket

    From a distance, the storm wall had appeared to be a defined threshold. The truth was something messier, more of a tattered portal, reaching out with grasping fingers.


    Creeping mists that grew thicker with every step. Lightning that cast the World as its negative. Between every spell of flashing blindness, their churning surroundings were further warped.


    They¡¯d been swallowed before they even knew they¡¯d entered the maw.


    ¡°Rrraaiinnn,¡± Gwil sang in the deepest voice he could muster.


    ¡°It¡¯s always raining in the¡­ Stormlands,¡± Leira answered, her voice airy and shimmering.


    ¡°Rrraaiinnn.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s always raining in the¡­ Stormlands.¡±


    ¡°Shut. Up,¡± Cort said. ¡°How have you not come up with any other lyrics in three whole hours?¡±


    ¡°Nothing else is happening,¡± Leira said.


    Night had fallen, but the lightning that ceaselessly crinkled across the sky provided ample light.


    Twenty meters ahead, the World tore in half as a screaming green bolt struck a mound of rock. Molten bits exploded from a puff of flame and smoke. That terrible expression of power vanished as quickly as it came, leaving only a smoldering crater as proof.


    ¡°I sure hope that doesn¡¯t happen to your head,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Eh? Oh, shit!¡± Cort ripped his great hammer out of his harness and hastily tossed it away. The impact of its metal head left a divot in the bedrock. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say something before?¡±


    She pointed to where the lightning had struck. ¡°That made me think of it.¡±


    Cort took Gwil¡¯s cut-up shirt and pants from his bag and dressed the hammer so that all the metal was covered.


    They pressed forward in the direction that they hoped was north. Something about the Stormlands had made their compass go wonky, sending the needle spinning out of control. About an hour ago, they¡¯d been passed by a procession of fast-moving flickering lights, some three kilometers distant. A caravan, Leira had guessed. They¡¯d been trying to keep themselves pointed in that direction.


    They could see nothing save eroded stone and swirling fog, so it was difficult to maintain a heading. According to what Buzzard had told Leira, there was no ¡®wrong way¡¯, as the narrow Stormlands were bordered by the sea on both sides. As long as they didn¡¯t get completely turned around, they¡¯d reach the other side eventually.


    The depressed expanse of bedrock was riven with cracks and craters. The constant rain caused perpetual flooding. Rushing streams of water ran through the crevices like little rivers.


    They walked through clouds but saw no sky. Fog hung as thick as steam in a sauna. The air itself was warm, charged, but the moisture possessed a prickly chill.


    Whenever the erratic crackling surged into a proper bolt, the entire blanket of clouds illuminated with vibrant green light. The thunder remained at bay, rumbling low, a snoozing beast.


    ¡°Cort, will you carry my bag?¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    She sighed. ¡°I just don¡¯t want to.¡±


    ¡°Then no. I already have the jetpack, the fridge, and my hammer.¡±


    Leira clasped her hands. ¡°But you¡¯re so big and strong.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not about the weight. It¡¯s the principle.¡±


    ¡°Gwil?¡± she asked.


    Gwil ignored her. He¡¯d drifted a short distance away from them and was prowling the ground in a crouch. Concealing his presence with Nyx made him feel extra stealthy.


    ¡°Crab!¡± Gwil yelled.


    A small green crab had emerged from a crack in the rock. At the sound of Gwil¡¯s shout, the critter scuttled with a noticeable increase of vigor.


    Gwil bounded after it, then, pop. He shrank mid-stride, flying forward to land right on the little creature¡¯s back.


    The crab either didn¡¯t notice or didn¡¯t care. It just continued on its way.


    ¡°Hey, turn around,¡± Gwil squeaked at it. He knelt and bent his head over the front of the crab to regard its wide, vacant face.


    Gwil lay flat on his stomach and stuck his arms out ahead of the crab. He reached for the little clumps of scrubby grass that sprouted between the cracks.


    He caught a stalk and ripped it free. Its length was three times his own height. Gwil adjusted himself and worked on tying the grass around one of the crab¡¯s frontmost legs.


    Gwil batted away a claw as the crab tried to pinch him. ¡°Stop that. You¡¯ll be like a horse. That¡¯s pretty good for a crab.¡± He tied the other leg, then sat down with his reins in hand.


    He steered the crab around to look for Cort and Leira but found that they were right behind him. The crab¡¯s tiny legs had not carried him far at all.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Cool, huh?¡± Gwil said. ¡°I told you this was useful, Cort.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen it before, that¡¯s for sure,¡± Cort said as he aimed a slow kick at the crab.


    Gwil deftly maneuvered out of the way.


    ¡°Hey, Gwil,¡± Leira said. ¡°Have you considered how you¡¯re also able to make your clothes shrink?¡±


    ¡°Huh? No, I didn¡¯t think about that at all!¡±


    ¡°Right? The only explanation is that you have the ability to shrink other objects, too.¡±


    ¡°Ooh! Maybe I could make this crab a giant.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Cort said. ¡°Or maybe whatever the hell god makes Hallows and Nirva just thought it¡¯d be fucking stupid if you wound up naked every time you used your powers.¡±


    ¡°Why would a god care about something so paltry?¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Hold on,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Wait. Ahh! Phew, I was about to become big. I would¡¯ve smushed my crab. But yeah, I have no idea how to do that.¡±


    The pool of shrinky syrup felt like it was very much a part of him, something stuck on the inside. Nevertheless, he was wearing miniaturized clothing.


    ¡°Hmm, oh!¡± Leira said. ¡°Gwil, do you have anything in your pocket?¡±


    He patted at his legs, then turned out his pockets. Empty. The crab sensed that he no longer held the reins and tried to buck him off. Gwil snatched them back and grinned. ¡°Bad horse.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ll have to test it, though. And maybe holding stuff in your hands, too.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not giving my theory enough credence,¡± Cort grumbled.


    ¡°The prison clothes didn¡¯t have pockets,¡± Gwil said. ¡°So, I don¡¯t think I ever tried that.¡±


    Gravel skittered as Cort halted. He threw his arm out in front of Leira, then adjusted his foot to block the crab as Gwil made to go between his legs.


    ¡°Something¡¯s out there,¡± he whispered.


    Gwil jumped off the crab, seized upon the bit of concern caused by Cort¡¯s words, and used that to grow back to normal size. He scooped the crab up and put it in his shirt pocket.


    Ahead, a distinct silhouette within the fog. Something big and spiky and beastly.


    Leira squinted and tilted her head. ¡°Is it sleeping?¡±


    Cort put a finger to his lips and then crept forward.


    ¡°Don¡¯t shush me,¡± Leira hissed.


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I can¡­¡± He used Mir, and the silhouette was filled in by faded gray emptiness. Yalda¡¯blood seeped out the edges. ¡°Ha! Stop sneaking, Cort. That thing is dead.¡±


    They approached the hulking corpse. Claws, legs, and antennae clarified.


    ¡°Why¡¯s it smell so tasty, though?¡± Leira said. ¡°Oh, yes!¡±


    An enormous lobster, as big as a whole school of squid-sharks if you bundled them all together. The thing lay on its back with its legs curled in on its underside like a dead bug. It had been burnt well past a crisp. The entire shell was blackened and dull as ash.


    ¡°Struck by lightning,¡± Cort said. ¡°Unlucky.¡±


    ¡°Lucky for us!¡± Leira squealed, skipping as she moved closer. ¡°Smash that tail open, Cort. Lobster is one of my favorite foods in the whole World.¡±


    ¡°We gotta make sure it¡¯s still edi-¡±


    ¡°Stuff the lecture, Doctor Cortemius,¡± she said. ¡°Smash it.¡±


    Gwil took the crab out of his pocket. The critter seemed desperate to be free. He let it crawl around in his cupped hands.


    Cort went up to the scorched carcass and knocked on the carapace. The sound produced did not possess even a hint of hollowness. The shell sounded as solid as stone.


    Cort grinned. ¡°Good thing I¡¯ve got the perfect tool.¡±


    He undressed his hammer, raised the massive hunk of iron over his head, and slammed it down.


    With a brutal crack, the shell crumpled. The three of them were showered with bits and juices.


    ¡°Eee!¡± Leira said, trying to tongue a fleck that had landed on her cheek.


    Cort chiseled away pieces of broken shell to reveal a tremendous bounty of seared flesh, blackened and browned.


    Gwil¡¯s mouth watered at the smell.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna faint,¡± Leira moaned. Arms outstretched, she approached the feast.


    Cort shifted to block her, peeled off a small sliver of meat, and popped it into his mouth. ¡°Mm, it¡¯s good.¡±


    He gripped an edge of the cracked carapace and wrenched at it like he was ripping open a jammed door. A man-sized gash split through the tail.


    Cort let Leira through. She plunged her hands into the lobster flesh, much like a child might jump into a pile of fresh snow.


    ***


    The three of them lay on their backs in a circle, stomachs stuffed to their limits. Shreds of lobster meat and empty tubes of ztuff littered the ground.


    They¡¯d talked a big game when they started eating, but they hadn¡¯t even made a dent. So much meat. They¡¯d eaten so much meat, yet so much meat remained. The lobster could¡¯ve fed an entire village for a week.


    Cort belched. ¡°The smell is making me feel sick now. Hey! We¡¯re supposed to be hurrying through here.¡±


    Leira burped even louder and then popped up. ¡°We should hang around until we can eat more, then go. Unless we wanna drag the lobster with us?¡±


    ¡°We can put some in the fridge,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Not enough.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t need to rush,¡± Gwil said. ¡°It¡¯s just some bad weather.¡± He had his eyes closed. His crab crawled around on his chest, its little legs poking at his ribs.


    ¡°Jayson made it sound worse than that,¡± Cort muttered.


    ¡°Fifteen minutes will hardly make a difference,¡± Leira said. ¡°I dunno about you wimps, but I¡¯ll be ready for more by then. Wait.¡± She picked up an egg-sized rock and tossed it at Gwil. ¡°Put that in your pocket and shrink.¡±


    Gwil set the crab down and stood up, clutching his stomach. ¡°I think that might make me explode, but alright.¡±


    He slid the rock into his pocket and then let himself fall into the syrup.


    Some force yanked him upward, then came the sound of torn fabric. He tumbled onto the rocky ground.


    ¡°Bahaha!¡± Leira and Cort cackled.


    The rock, now huge, blocked Gwil¡¯s view. His entire pant leg had been ripped in half. Gwil moved around the rock as he stood up. ¡°Dammit. Lemme try again.¡± Pop.


    Cort crawled over and picked up the rock. He handed it to Gwil and said, ¡°Try holding it in your hand this time.¡±


    Gwil squeezed the rock tight and closed his eyes. He just had to keep it with him¡­ Pop.


    He dove out of the way as the rock crashed down on the place where he¡¯d been standing. ¡°Gah! This is tricky!¡±


    ¡°Hm. You were getting much smaller when you shrank in Podexia,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Check your pocket,¡± Cort said, pointing and wearing a grin.


    Gwil reached into his not-ripped pocket and felt something¡­ He pulled it out¡ªa tiny tube of ztuff. ¡°Ooh!¡±


    ¡°Nice one, Cort,¡± Leira said. ¡°That¡¯s fascinating. Turn big again, Gwil.¡±


    Gwil replaced the tube of ztuff in his pocket. He grew back¡ªhis excitement made it easy.


    He reached into his pocket and found that he had to dig. ¡°Shit.¡± Gwil held out the still-miniaturized tube of ketchup, about the size of a kernel of corn. ¡°Ah! That¡¯s still really cool, though!¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± Leira said. ¡°Hmm¡­ That might imply that if you think too hard about it, you¡¯ll shrink without your clothes.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I don¡¯t think too hard.¡±


    ¡°That proves you can shrink other things, though,¡± Cort said. ¡°It¡¯s not some¡­ divine convenience just for clothing.¡±


    Gwil ran his fingers back through his hair. ¡°How am I gonna remember all this stuff I¡¯m supposed to figure out?¡±


    ¡°Gimme the little tube,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯m gonna make a necklace out of it. For emergencies. I also wonder if it might return to its normal size sometime. Maybe even if you went too far away. We¡¯ll have to see.¡±


    ¡°That trick I did might not work again,¡± Cort said. ¡°Maybe now you¡¯re subconsciously aware of it. I¡¯m also curious about putting something small in your pocket while you¡¯re already shrunk. Would it grow with you?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Leira said. ¡°Also, what would happen if we snuck this already shrunk tube of ztuff into his pocket and then he shrank a second time? Maybe the shrinking only occurs if the object will cause some sort of interference.¡±


    ¡°You guys¡¯re making my head spin,¡± Gwil said.

 Chapter Forty-Nine – Hammer Time

    The thunder sounded on the verge of breaking, an agitated animal about to snap.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t actually very good,¡± Leira said through a mouthful. ¡°It¡¯s way too chewy compared to normal lobster. The ztuff does elevate it, though.¡±


    Gwil tore off a chunk of meat and set it on the ground between his legs, with which he¡¯d formed a sort of corral for his captured crab. The critter had managed to remove the grass-reins from its legs.


    The crab clicked over to the piece of meat and began hacking with its claws and stuffing its face into the smaller bits.


    ¡°Don¡¯t feed it lobster, Gwil,¡± Cort said. ¡°That¡¯s cannibalism.¡±


    ¡°Eh? I don¡¯t think it cares. Don¡¯t animals eat their own babies sometimes?¡±


    ¡°Making allowances for cannibals¡­ That¡¯s messed up, man,¡± Cort said, shaking his head.


    Gwil laughed. ¡°That¡¯s cool how crabs have weapons for arms. Look how smart it is, using them to help him eat. Oh! Leira, give me a fork.¡±


    She passed him a three-pronged metal fork that they¡¯d brought from¡­ from¡­ huh.


    ¡°This is a perfect weapon for me,¡± Gwil said, twirling it with his fingers. ¡°If it doesn¡¯t shrink with me, I can still lift it. And if it does, it¡¯s still sharp.¡±


    ¡°Ahh,¡± Leira said. ¡°That¡¯s clever, Gwil.¡±


    Gwil swiveled his wrist, giving the fork a few practice swings and stabs, then he slipped it into his pocket.


    ¡°Hey! Where¡¯d my crab go?¡±


    Cort held up his hand to show the crab scuttling around in his sizable palm. He brought his hand closer to his face and narrowed his eyes at the crab. ¡°Gross little cannibal.¡±


    ¡°Damn, Cort,¡± Leira said. ¡°What¡¯d you have against cannibals?¡±


    Cort¡¯s eyes snapped to Leira. He inhaled as if about to launch into a tirade. But at that very moment, the crab hooked one of its claws around Cort¡¯s septum piercing.


    ¡°Bahaha!¡±


    Cort screamed as the crab dangled from his nose, its pincer clamped tight around the ring-shaped piercing. His fingers fumbled, too big and cumbersome to get a grip on the tiny claw.


    ¡°You asked for it,¡± Gwil said.


    Cort leapt to his feet and began swinging his head around like a maniac. The crab whipped back and forth before flying off.


    Eyes watery, blood trickling from his nose, Cort grabbed his hammer and stomped toward where he¡¯d flung the crab. ¡°Time to die, you little shit.¡±


    Gwil chased after him. He leapt onto Cort¡¯s back and wrapped his arms around Cort¡¯s neck, trying to wrestle him to the ground. ¡°Don¡¯t kill it! You shouldn¡¯t have called it a cannibal.¡±


    Cort spotted the crab and slammed his hammer down. Cracks splintered through the bedrock, but the crab had skittered out of the way. The critter faced them, brandishing its claws in a taunting way.


    Leira joined the fray. She grabbed a fistful of Gwil¡¯s hair and knotted her other hand in Cort¡¯s shirt, trying to pull them apart.


    Cort charged the crab, dragging Gwil and Leira along, and his hammer struck again.


    Gwil felt his stomach lurch. All three of them were falling in a tangle, plummeting amidst chunks of rock and a shower of dust.


    Cort smacked down hard on the ground, belly first, landing with a guttural whimper. Gwil and Leira lay in a heap on his back. Leira had clung to Gwil as they fell. Her fingernails still dug into his shoulder, and she¡¯d ripped out a clump of his hair.


    ¡°Idiotic children!¡± she shrieked.


    Gwil rolled away and spotted the crab. He dove for it, but the little shit escaped through a crack in the wall.


    A man-made wall, formed of hewn blocks. Gwil looked upward and saw darkened fog through a big hole in a ceiling. They¡¯d fallen about four meters.


    ¡°What the hell¡­¡± Cort said, standing up while clutching his nose. There wasn¡¯t even that much blood.


    They¡¯d landed in a hallway that extended into soft darkness in both directions. A pile of fractured rock and broken blocks surrounded them.


    Ten paces away, a flaming torch hung from the wall. The distant pinprick of light that was the next torch revealed the immense length of this hall.


    The ground was gritty with a layer of damp sand. Gwil brushed it away with his hand to reveal a paved stone floor.


    The walls and the floor were both formed of irregularly sized, but precisely fitted blocks. Their color was a dark gray. No mortar filled the gaps, yet Gwil could barely slide a fingernail between the seams. The surfaces showed some wear and were covered with lichen and moss.


    Leira¡¯s eyes darted between the pile of smashed rock and the hole that they¡¯d fallen through. ¡°Look¡ªyou smashed through the ground and the ceiling. Idiot.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Grimacing, Cort scratched the top of his head. ¡°My bad. Sorry.¡± He fidgeted with his piercing. ¡°That fucking hurt, though.¡±


    ¡°All good,¡± Gwil said. ¡°The crab survived, and you found something amazing!¡±


    Cort massaged his ribs while looking down at his feet. ¡°At least we could shelter from the storm here.¡±


    Leira pointed down the hall in the direction they¡¯d been traveling while above ground. ¡°We can walk without having to swim, too. But all our stuff is still up there.¡±


    ¡°Just get it with the jetpack,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°The jetpack is up there, too,¡± Cort said. ¡°Shrink and I¡¯ll throw you up.¡±


    ¡°I can jump that high,¡± Gwil said. He squatted, jumped, and the moment his feet left the ground, pop. He shrank and soared through the hole. Trying not to think about it, Gwil ran toward their camp and, pop, grew back to size. Easy.


    He grabbed his and Leira¡¯s backpacks, carried them to the hole, then went back for Cort¡¯s pile of stuff.


    ¡°Ready?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Gwil tossed down the three backpacks, then said, ¡°The rest of this stuff is fragile, yeah?¡±


    ¡°You mean the collapsible refrigerator, the Kaia torch, and the jetpack? Yeah, all those things are fragile and expensive.¡±


    Gwil put on the jetpack and then picked up the Kaia torch and the folded-up fridge in each of his hands. He jumped into the hole and flared his Nirva.


    He did not even stagger upon landing, his legs as rigid and sturdy as iron. Gwil grinned. Maybe he was getting the hang of this.


    ¡°What¡¯d you think this place is?¡± Leira asked, her voice echoing. ¡°A passage to get through the Stormlands?¡±


    ¡°Maybe. Hopefully,¡± Cort said. He examined the sconce on the wall. ¡°But it¡¯s not as abandoned as it looks. This isn¡¯t magical fire or anything. It¡¯s just a normal torch. They must get replaced with some regularity. We could still jetpack out of here and forget we found this.¡±


    ¡°No way,¡± Gwil said. ¡°This is perfect, Cort. We¡¯re safe from the storm and we get to explore.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve fucking had it with the rain,¡± Leira said.


    They shouldered their gear and set out down the passageway in the direction that they hoped was north.


    The green lightning flashes still shone through the collapsed ceiling, giving them some flickering light as they entered a darkened stretch of the hall.


    Their footsteps splashed and sloshed through claylike sand and the occasional rodent skeleton. Bugs and various little crustaceans kept them company. Gwil spotted a couple of crabs, but not his crab. Thick patches of mold stained the walls, and curious fungi sprouted all over.


    The air was foul and rank with rot. They¡¯d done this place a favor by smashing open that hole and letting in a breeze.


    They came to a four-way intersection, where an identical featureless tunnel crossed with their path.


    ¡°Not just a passageway then,¡± Leira whispered. ¡°Let¡¯s keep going straight.¡±


    Gwil bit his lip. ¡°Aren¡¯t you curious, though?¡± He used Mir to look down the three paths. Each was a tunnel of swirling green, frothy with sprites of decaying life.


    ¡°No. It¡¯s gross,¡± she said.


    ¡°Aw, c¡¯mon, Leira. This place is crazy. Why¡¯s it even here? We should split up and check down each path.¡±


    ¡°What? Idiot. I left you alone for thirty seconds in Podexia and you got yourself thrown in prison. Something much worse could happen here.¡±


    Cort wrinkled his nose while looking from side-to-side. ¡°I think that¡¯s a decent idea.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Hear me out. This crossways path makes me¡­ a little less confident that we¡¯re actually going north. We could¡¯ve gotten thrown off course. I think we should take a quick peek down each way. And we can just shout if something happens. Our voices will carry down these halls.¡±


    Leira fiddled with her eyeflower. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll go straight. But we shouldn¡¯t go too far. And Gwil, do not take any turns. This place could be a maze.¡±


    ***


    Leira squinted against the darkness as the torchlight behind her dwindled into uselessness. She couldn¡¯t see for shit. Not that there was anything down here besides bugs and grimy wet gunk.


    She sighed. She¡¯d preferred walking in the rain compared to this stifling cesspit.


    Leira took a step, and it felt like her insides had splattered at the force with which her whole body clenched. She smacked her hands on the wall and threw her weight against it to catch herself.


    Gasping for breath, heart racing, blood rushing in her ears¡­ As she clung to the wall, Leira pointed her toes downward and lowered her foot until it brushed against something solid.


    With a slow exhale through pursed lips, she relaxed. A staircase. She¡¯d missed the first step and panicked at the sensation. That was all.


    And it explained why the visibility had been so piss-poor. The tunnel dead-ended here with a wall; the stairs were set down in a well, leading to a lower level.


    Leira patted herself on the back for not screaming in her fright. Then she screamed anyway. ¡°Fucking hell! I found stairs!¡± Her voice echoed about a hundred times.


    She cupped her hand to her ear, and after a few heartbeats, heard Gwil and Cort¡¯s furious flurry of footsteps.


    Leira spit on the wall. What kind of idiot wouldn¡¯t think to hang a torch at the top of the fucking stairs? If she weren¡¯t so deft and graceful, she might¡¯ve broken her neck.


    She went down a couple of steps and crouched to get a better look, but it was too dark.


    Gwil and Cort were getting closer. Much closer. She could hear them splashing through the darkness.


    Leira whipped around and yelled, ¡°Wait, stop!¡±


    Flying toward her in a blind sprint, Gwil stumbled to a halt, sliding on the slick bricks. Then Cort, flailing his arms like a goddamn clown, slammed into Gwil from behind.


    Leira dove out of the way as the two of them crashed to the floor and tumbled down the first few stairs.


    ¡°No torch at the top of a fucking staircase?¡± Cort yelled as he recovered himself.


    ¡°I know, right?¡± Leira said. ¡°What¡¯d you guys find?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°Same.¡± Gwil went a few steps lower, cupped his hands around his mouth, and made a bleh-bleh-bleh sound with his tongue. ¡°Woah. It goes deep.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s get the fuck out of here,¡± Cort said. ¡°This is too bizarre to be anything good.¡±


    ¡°Agreed.¡±


    Gwil frowned. ¡°Huh? Don¡¯t you guys wanna find out about the crazy storm? Jayson said he¡¯d lived near here for his whole life and they had no idea what caused the storms. That must be what this place is about.¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Leira said. ¡°It stinks down here, and I don¡¯t wanna die.¡±


    ¡°Agreed.¡±


    Gwil scrunched his face up. He had his arms crossed around himself, and he was scratching at his biceps, feverishly, as if he had a rash. ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll go back up where we fell?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Leira said. ¡°We¡¯ve just got no business here, Gwil. There¡¯ll be plenty of other craziness that we¡¯ll be forced to confront. When we¡¯re given the chance, it¡¯s okay to take the easy route.¡±


    He nodded. His teeth were chattering audibly. Leira swept her sweaty hair back and furrowed her brow. It was hot as hell down here.


    They started making their way back. They had not gone ten steps when Gwil said, ¡°Wait. Lemme check something.¡±


    Leira and Cort stopped to watch as Gwil went a short way down the staircase. Then, he vomited and fell over.


    They ran to him. Cort grabbed him under the arms and heaved him out.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    Gwil wiped his mouth on his sleeve. ¡°I-We gotta go down there.¡± He winced and took a few breaths. ¡°Something awful.¡±


    ¡°What? No. That means we were smart to run away,¡± Leira said. ¡°You don¡¯t need to run headfirst into danger every time.¡±


    ¡°We have to,¡± Gwil said. ¡°This time, we have to.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± Cort asked.


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. But it¡¯s not something stupid, I promise. Please come with me.¡±

 Chapter Fifty – Salt of the Earth

    Down, down, down, how deep does it go?


    ¡°Gwil, slow down,¡± Leira called from behind.


    He raced down the dark stairwell, using Nyx to bury himself, hoping that would keep him hidden.


    Before, Gwil had used Mir and glimpsed an immense concentration of Yalda¡¯blood at the bottom of these stairs. The sight made him puke and lose consciousness. The clamoring Nirva voices had screamed with such shrill desperation that droplets of blood had trickled out of his ears.


    He did not dare to look at it again, but he had to know the source. And¡­ do something about it, if he could. Such a horrible thing could not be allowed to exist.


    All the previous instances of Yalda¡¯blood that he¡¯d seen were pale imitations. Just ethereal things, essence that did not exist in the physical world. But this was real, of substance and form.


    Its shape resembled an impossible spear, something that stretched on forever, plunging downward, stabbing the World in its very heart.


    Gwil reached the bottom of the stairwell and stepped out into an expansive chamber.


    Leira and Cort hurried down after him, but they did not share his urgency, because they had not seen.


    This was not a cavern but an enormous room. The walls were built from the same black-gray blocks as the halls above, thousands upon thousands. But the ground beneath Gwil¡¯s feet was natural, bare rock of a lighter, sandier tone.


    The height of the space exceeded five stories, and the breadth could not be discerned. The only source of light was the two torches that stood a couple hundred paces ahead.


    Their light revealed the silhouette of a pyramid-shaped structure, like a temple. Gwil had seen similar ruins back¡­ in the place he¡¯d used to live.


    He chewed at his lip. Reverie. But his mind had to fight to capture that word. And the memories were ill-formed and fleeting. The windmill. The jungle. It was all slipping away. He was forgetting the place that had always been his home.


    Frantically, he thought of Caris. Her death. Fun times spent in the wilderness. That was all there. And Erwin. And Mayor Guice and Margaret. The villagers.


    He remembered the people, but an absence surrounded their faces. Something about the place. And not just Reverie, but the whole of Alnam¡ªit was all obscured by impenetrable haze.


    A shaking sensation in his feet drew Gwil back to the present. He gasped, clutching at his heart. An erratic roar rumbled through the chamber, vibrating the walls.


    It¡¯s just thunder, he realized. His breath settled. The storm was gathering. He could even hear the rain, falling as a whisper.


    Leira and Cort finally reached the bottom.


    ¡°C¡¯mon!¡± Gwil said. He made for the temple, but Leira grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. Then she slapped him across the face.


    ¡°Stop being a fool! What is going on?¡±


    Gwil bobbed his head from side to side, then inhaled. ¡°Okay, so with Nirva, sometimes I see a bunch of strange things. There¡¯s like a veil of¡­ stuff, everywhere. And sometimes it¡¯s filled with this sea of poison. It¡¯s in the sky, too.


    ¡°It¡¯s black and red. Like rotten blood. It¡¯s called Yalda¡¯blood. And it has a voice, countless voices, actually. I think they¡¯re who told me that name. I talked about it with Jayson, and he could see it, too.


    ¡°It¡¯s suffering. Like a gathering of all the suffering in the whole World, maybe ever. Leira, you¡¯re full of it. I¡¯ve seen it. But everything and everyone has some.


    ¡°Normally, it just looks like corrupted¡­ air or something.¡± He turned and pointed at the temple. ¡°But in there, I see it for real. It¡¯s important.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± Cort muttered.


    Leira¡¯s hands slid down from Gwil¡¯s shoulders to grasp his hands. ¡°I know a little about that. I¡¯ve heard other Hallows mention it. It¡¯s¡­¡± She shook her head. ¡°Common. Most treat it as just a bizarre bit of phenomena. If you¡¯re worried about it, why didn¡¯t you say something before?¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°It never came up. I dunno what it is.¡±


    ¡°You sound like Isca,¡± Cort said, drawing his hammer from its harness. ¡°Can you see anything inside that temple?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m scared to look at it again,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I didn¡¯t catch sight of anything that seemed alive, though.¡±


    They started across the chamber, slow and quietlike. The flickering sphere of torchlight shone upon a path that led to the base of the temple.


    ¡°Fucking creepy ass place,¡± Cort whispered.


    ¡°Leira,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Do you remember the place where you found me?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Of course I do. It¡¯s only been like a week, Gwil, and it¡¯s had a bit of an impact on my life since. But¡­ what the hell?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t remember either,¡± he told her.


    Leira tugged at a lock of hair. ¡°I remember meeting you. I was trapped in my flower, and I washed up there, but I can¡¯t see it. I remember that damned axolotl, and Skuld, and crossing the sea in the storm. And on Mikara, once we made landfall, I can see that perfectly in my mind. The beach, the cliffs. But your home and the place where I killed you. It''s gone.¡±


    ¡°Same for me,¡± Gwil said. ¡°It¡¯s something about the islands themselves. Alnam.¡±


    ¡°What did you say?¡± Leira asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s all very interesting,¡± Cort hissed, ¡°but shh!¡±


    The temple¡¯s features clarified. It was not as impressive as it had seemed, and not nearly large enough to require such a vast chamber.


    It was also not as pyramidal as Gwil had thought. The shape was more like a steep mound. Its surface was imperfect¡ªridged, gnarled, pitted. Skeletal.


    It did not appear to be built from stone, nor by human hands. Gwil was reminded of a termite mound or a beehive. The material resembled tree bark.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    They stepped onto the crumbling path that led to the temple¡¯s foot. It must have been ancient. The path, as well as the door that lay ahead, seemed humanmade.


    The square slab was set within a hollow that had been carved out of the temple¡¯s face. Gwil could not see any handle or opening mechanism, but painted on its surface was a faded crimson symbol: a crescent moon embraced around an eye.


    Gwil stopped in his tracks, pointed to it. ¡°Leira. That¡¯s the symbol that was branded on the foreheads of the people that killed Caris.¡±


    ¡°Ahhh!¡± she said, clinging to Gwil¡¯s arm. ¡°The ones wearing the chains?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Yeah, then the dragon knight guy came after their bodies disappeared.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like more cult shit to me,¡± Cort said. ¡°Fucking hell. Should I smash it open?¡±


    ¡°Do it.¡±


    Cort moved to the door, holding his hammer low. He swung in an upward arc. Cracks splintered across the slab¡¯s surface. Again. Chunks of stone crumbled away. Cort bared his teeth and unleashed a barrage of strikes, reducing the slab to rubble that spilled across the threshold.


    Cort stepped aside so that Gwil and Leira could approach. The interior was small, just a cramped hollow, the ceiling barely higher than the entryway. There was no d¨¦cor or ornamentation. The space was no more impressive than an animal¡¯s burrow.


    Arranged in a square around the edges were four twisted pillars upholding the drooping ceiling.


    At their center, lying on the ground, a desiccated body with its limbs spread and chained to the pillars.


    A gleaming silver spike stuck out of the corpse. It impaled their heart.


    The body was withered, but well-preserved. Dehydrated flesh sucked tight around the bones. The skin was ridged like tree bark.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Leira breathed, brushing her fingers on the wall while staring at the corpse.


    The flesh and the temple were the same. Something like roots fanned out from beneath the body. As if the entire temple had sprouted from the corpse.


    ¡°Leira,¡± Cort whispered. He had to hunch to fit in this small, sad burrow. ¡°The body. It looks like what you did to those guards when your flower went crazy.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡°It is similar, but it¡¯s not the same. I think¡­ A god must have captured this soul as they died. But not my god, not Megrim.¡±


    Gwil knelt beside the dead person¡¯s head. He scratched at the scar on his chest. The corpse¡¯s eyes had sunk into puckered pits. The mouth was agape; the jaw hung loose.


    He wiped away a tear, but he didn¡¯t know why. He¡¯d expected to find something monstrous in this wretched place. But it was just one poor, dead person. Abandoned. A victim of something terrible.


    ¡°Gwil?¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s the same, right?¡±


    The spike, silver so lustrous that it seemed ablaze. Erithist. It was about as wide as an ear of corn and protruded ten centimeters out of the corpse¡¯s chest.


    Gwil bowed his head to the ground so that he could see underneath the body. The Erithist plunged into the earth.


    Gwil reached out and touched the spike. Then he gagged. He tried his best to hold against the sinister bubbling in his stomach. He failed. He sprayed the corpse with projectile vomit.


    ¡°Fucking Tartarus¡¯s smoldering asshole!¡± Cort screamed without even acknowledging how he¡¯d smacked his head on the ceiling. ¡°You did not just puke on this ritualized and obviously cursed corpse.¡±


    Leira knelt down. ¡°Are you okay, Gwil?¡±


    He laughed and shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m fine. It was just the Erithist. And it wasn¡¯t that it was so bad, but that I¡¯m still so full of lobster.¡±


    Leira wrinkled her nose at the rancid, fishy scent, but managed to compose herself. ¡°Do you think this is what happened to you?¡±


    Gwil laughed even harder and felt such relief at the release of tension. ¡°I have no idea! It sure looks like it, huh? But here I am, walking around, not dead and only nineteen years old, so what the hell is going on?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t even imagine,¡± Leira said, smiling. ¡°But I guess we won¡¯t be just passing through the Stormlands. What do you think, though? What¡¯d you wanna do?¡±


    ¡°I dunno,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But I don¡¯t like how it¡¯s all mixed up with this Yalda¡¯blood stuff. I wanna fix it. Maybe we can help this dead person. Free them.¡± He pointed at the spike. ¡°But I can¡¯t touch it.¡±


    Leira stood up and reached for the spike.


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait,¡± Cort said, scrambling. ¡°Don¡¯t desecrate that body!¡±


    ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± Leira snapped. ¡°What is your deal? If anything, we¡¯re un-desecrating it.¡±


    Cort cupped his chin and looked downward. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m a little bit superstitious, okay? Especially about dead people. It¡¯s how I was raised.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s time to bury your ideals,¡± Leira said. ¡°Should I rip it out, Gwil?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Cort. This is right. I¡¯m sure of it.¡±


    Cort nodded while backing up as far as he could. His body filled nearly half the space. He had his hands behind his back and appeared to be struggling to keep them there.


    Leira bent over and gripped the spike with both hands. She clenched her teeth as she pulled, straining, going red in the face. The eyeflower¡¯s petals fluttered as if in blustering wind.


    She let go with a sharp gasp. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m gonna end up ripping my arms off before it budges. Cort, you have to do it.¡±


    ¡°Ain¡¯t no way,¡± Cort said with his arms crossed, hugging himself but trying to hide the fact.


    ¡°You fucking wimp,¡± Leira said. ¡°At least loosen it up with your hammer.¡±


    Cort shook his head.


    ¡°We only found this place ¡®cause of you, Cort,¡± Gwil said. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t tried to kill my crab¡­¡±


    ¡°I bet Isca would be all for this,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that,¡± Cort spat. ¡°Isca is in a cult. This is cult shit. I don¡¯t want cursed cult-blood on my hands.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it then,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°You can¡¯t!¡± Cort said. ¡°You can¡¯t use Nirva while you touch it. I bet you¡¯re scrawny ass is hardly any stronger than Leira without it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it. Give me your hammer,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just walk away,¡± Cort said.


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°If you could see it, you wouldn¡¯t say that. You¡¯d be willing to do anything and everything to remove it.¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t have to do anything and everything,¡± Leira said. ¡°He just needs to stop being a baby for thirty seconds.¡±


    Cort closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He exhaled and thumped the ceiling twice with his fist. ¡°Alright, alright. Enough with the fucking lambasting. If I¡¯m outvoted, I¡¯ll do it. I¡¯ll loosen it, then one of you can rip it out with your little noodle arms.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Cort!¡± Gwil said.


    Cort raised his hammer, choked up his grip so that one hand held the top of the shaft.


    Precisely, as if he were building a dollhouse, Cort gave the spike a couple of gentle taps on its side.


    ¡°ARGH!¡±


    At first, Gwil thought something horrible was happening. Cort swung the hammer wide, smacking the wall before smashing it against the spike.


    The chains rattled as the body was wrenched by the force of the blow. The spike stood bent. Cort threw his hammer down and then gripped the spike, braced one of his feet against a pillar, and pulled. Screaming through clenched teeth. Bit by bit¡­


    The spike ripped free. Cort fell over backwards. The spike rolled across the ground. Gwil jumped away from it.


    Then he used Mir.


    The voices cried out in primal ecstasy. Gwil smiled at their unfettered joy. He¡¯d never imagined such a thing. It was like music. To hear such beleaguered souls singing¡­


    Rivers of Yalda¡¯blood poured out from the temple and the staked corpse, rushing away like rainwater down a gutter. In the infection¡¯s wake, a lifeless gray husk. Perfect stillness. Tranquil. Exhausted.


    The shape of the bottomless wound¡ªthe spear¡ªpersisted, though it had been drained of its putrid essence. The scar took the form of an empty black void.


    Gwil covered over his mouth with his hand. A sliver of the World, carved away, like the crater left by the Kaia explosion.


    He cut his Mir and threw his arms around Cort. ¡°You did it! Thank you, thank you!¡±


    ¡°It worked?¡± Cort rasped.


    Gwil let go of Cort¡ªthe man was drenched with sweat¡ªand nodded. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Cort said with a twitch. ¡°I didn¡¯t see it, but I felt it.¡± He nodded. ¡°You were right. I am proud to have destroyed that abomination.¡±


    Leira nudged the corpse with her foot.


    ¡°We don¡¯t need to be doing that, though!¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Break these two chains,¡± Leira said, gesturing to the pillars on either side of her. ¡°I need to flip the body over.¡±


    ¡°I can do that,¡± Gwil said. He surged Nirva into his foot and stomped on the joint between the chain and the pillar.


    ¡°I thought of something¡­¡± Leira said. She flipped the body onto its stomach and then crouched over it, running her hands across the dry, leathery flesh. ¡°Fuck.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± Cort asked.


    She pointed to a discoloration on the wrinkled skin, just below the nape of the neck. A smeared patch of gray, splotchy with darker, blurred lines.


    ¡°Numbers,¡± Cort said, breathless.


    ¡°Ooh!¡±


    Leira rubbed the flesh with her fingers to manipulate its shape, but the numbers were nowhere near decipherable, stolen by time and decomposition.


    ¡°There were four digits,¡± she said.


    Cort raised his fist to his mouth and bit down on his knuckle. ¡°Thousands? Thousands of these?¡±


    A shiver ran down Gwil¡¯s spine. No, no, no. ¡°That¡¯s too much.¡±

 Chapter Fifty-One – Three Sorry Gifts

    ¡°Hm,¡± Gwil said. ¡°The matching tattoo is tough to argue with. I guess that did happen to me.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Cort said. ¡°I said you died twice, and Leira said that was stupid. Who¡¯s stupid now?¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Leira said. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s true, but¡­¡± She nudged the corpse with her foot. ¡°This dead body¡¯s been here for a few centuries, at least. What¡¯s up with that? And Gwil has memories from his childhood. There¡¯s no clean answer here. Why the Erithist? This temple grew out of the corpse. That¡¯s super weird. And how could Gwil have escaped from such a fate? And what the fuck are they even doing this to people for?¡± She stared at Gwil as if waiting for an answer.


    He threw his arms up. ¡°Don¡¯t ask me. The Yalda¡¯blood drained away, though. That¡¯s good, I think.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± she said. ¡°We still don¡¯t know shit. You¡¯re making assumptions, Cort. It¡¯s nothing so crazy to die twice. People escape from the Hells more often than you might think.¡±


    ¡°I know that,¡± Cort cut in.


    Leira continued. ¡°Of course, this dead person didn¡¯t go to any of the Nine Hells. I¡¯m reasonably sure of that. A god took them to its domain. Presumably whichever god is worshipped by the folks behind this ghastly ritual.


    ¡°Anyway, regarding Gwil, what I meant was stupid about what you said is this: He became Hallowed after I killed him. Hallows that go to the Hells and come back don¡¯t lose their powers. If Gwil had died once before, he should¡¯ve become Hallowed that time.¡± She raked her fingers back across her scalp. ¡°Unless¡­ maybe a person isn¡¯t necessarily marked for Hallowdom at birth, rather it can happen any time.¡± She shook her head. ¡°This is such an unusual case that we can¡¯t say anything for certain. So scratch that, I guess. I don¡¯t fuckin¡¯ know. But also, if he had died from this ritual, then came back to life, it probably would¡¯ve been through resurrection, which would mean he should have gotten a new body, without the scar. My point is, don¡¯t go thinking you¡¯re so clever, Cortemius.¡±


    Gwil and Cort looked at each other.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Cort said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I died,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Leira asked.


    He shrugged. ¡°I just think it¡¯s something I¡¯d remember.¡±


    Leira laughed. ¡°Like I said, we don¡¯t know shit. I know some things about magic and divinities, but only a drop in the bucket, really. I¡¯ve got plenty of blind spots.¡±


    Gwil stretched his hands above his head and arched his back. ¡°How interesting. This is the last thing I expected to find down here.¡±


    ¡°Crazy world,¡± Leira muttered.


    ¡°Should we¡­ do something with the body?¡± Cort asked.


    ¡°What¡¯d you mean? Like bury it?¡± Leira said.


    Cort scuffed the ground¡ªwhich was transfigured and petrified flesh¡ªwith his boot. ¡°I guess not that. But something. We could at least cover the body.¡±


    ¡°We should burn it,¡± Gwil said as a twitch ran up his spine. He set his backpack down on the ground and pulled out a shirt. He draped it over the corpse¡¯s face.


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s a good idea,¡± Leira said. ¡°The thing is probably flush with dark magic. We don¡¯t want it to wind up being used in another ritual.¡±


    Cort took a tube of ztuff from his pocket and placed it in the corpse¡¯s still-chained hand.


    Leira rolled her eye and then plucked a petal from her eyeflower. She made to give it to the corpse and then seemed to think better of it. Instead, she stuck the petal into her mouth and swallowed it.


    ¡°Can¡¯t risk even the ashes of that falling into the wrong hands,¡± Leira muttered. ¡°We still have no clue what¡¯s going on here.¡± She took a doubloon from her pocket, placed it in the corpse¡¯s other palm, and closed the stiff fingers around the coin.


    ¡°Happy now, you nervous ninny?¡± she said.


    ¡°It¡¯s just respectful,¡± Cort mumbled.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Leira said. She smiled at him. ¡°I was being an asshole. And I bet this dead person deserves kindness more than most. Too bad we can only offer a sliver.¡±


    ¡°Do you mind if I¡­ do it?¡± Cort asked, looking between them both.


    ¡°It should be you,¡± Gwil said, clapping Cort on the back. ¡°You freed them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll make it quick,¡± Cort said as he unstrapped the Kaia torch from his bag. ¡°The smell of Gwil¡¯s fishy vomit is making my eyes water.¡±


    Cort turned the stove on and then rooted around in his bag. ¡°I¡¯m gonna try something weird.¡± He took a tube of ztuff and squirted it along the length of the corpse¡¯s leg, as if putting ketchup on a very burnt sausage.


    ¡°That is cannibal shit if I¡¯ve ever seen it!¡± Leira squealed.


    ¡°Every time I taste ztuff, I detect a subtle hint of a specific flavor, and I just couldn¡¯t quite put my finger on it. I finally realized¡ªit¡¯s kerosene! So, I think it might be flammable.¡±If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Tasty and useful!¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I¡¯ll just¡­¡± Cort tore off a piece from his sleeve and set it alight on the stove top. He took the flaming scrap and touched it to the ztuff.


    With a whoosh, a cloud of flame exploded into existence, engulfing the corpse, the ground, the walls.


    Cort was smart enough to throw the Kaia torch out the door ahead of them as they all scrambled out.


    It turned out that both the flesh and the Zippy¡¯s were very flammable.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Leira yelped. Covering over the eyeflower with one hand, she dashed back and reached into the flaming entryway with her other hand.


    A second later, she ran past them¡ªscreaming her head off¡ªwith the Erithist spike in hand.


    They went a healthy distance away from the burning temple and then turned to watch.


    It was entrancing. Columns of pure white smoke billowed toward the chamber¡¯s high ceiling. The silhouette of the temple sagged within the flames, melting away.


    Gwil saw the semblance of a woman¡¯s smiling face form in the smoke. He grinned back at her. The apparition mouthed a single word: Hypatia. Gwil heard her voice clear as day inside his head, and he knew she''d told him her name.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe we almost left without this,¡± Leira said, brandishing the spike.


    Gwil backed away from her and clenched his jaw. The thing was a bit longer than his arm.


    ¡°This much Erithist is worth, like, hundreds of billions of doubloons. You could buy several small nations with it. The Leviathan would get on their knees and beg for it.¡± She laughed. ¡°And we found it by accident.¡±


    ¡°We should just leave it,¡± Gwil said. ¡°What do we need money for? Just looking at it makes me feel sick.¡±


    ¡°Gwil, this is way too valuable to throw away,¡± Cort said. ¡°It could save our lives one day. Lemme see it, Leira.¡±


    She handed it to him. Cort wrapped it up in three layers of clothing and then stuffed it into his pack. ¡°Is that better, Gwil?¡±


    His nausea subsided and the chilly stiffness left his joints. ¡°Yup.¡±


    They turned their attention back to the pyre. In silence, they watched for a little while longer.


    ¡°Well, if anyone lives here, I expect they¡¯ll be mightily pissed off at us,¡± Leira said. ¡°We probably don¡¯t wanna wait around anymore.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go,¡± Cort said. ¡°I hope the cult¡¯s here. I wanna smash ¡®em up. Do we go back up? Gwil and I didn¡¯t make it to the end of our paths.¡±


    ¡°You think this is a dead end?¡± Leira asked.


    Gwil flashed his Mir. The flames turned the same shade of white as the smoke, and the shadow of the temple disappeared. He turned around to scan the rest of the chamber.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a dead end,¡± Gwil said. On the far side of the room, the swirling veil was warped by a channel, and the mess of colors there was denser. He pointed to it. ¡°There. We can go deeper.¡±


    ¡°Then we go deeper,¡± Leira said.


    They made their way across the chamber. During their time in the temple, the storm had swelled into a fury. The sound of roaring thunder pervaded the space, underscored by a concert of pattering rainfall.


    ¡°Now,¡± Leira said, ¡°I fully agree that we are obligated to investigate this place. But we have to be prepared for the possibility of something darker than a bunch of bumfuck cultists. The tattoo thing coupled with everything else. Very troubling¡­¡± She trailed off.


    ¡°If you say we need to run,¡± Gwil said, ¡°we¡¯ll run.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Cort puffed up his cheeks and exhaled, trilling his lips. ¡°Isca was right about everything.¡±


    ¡°Of course she was,¡± Leira said. ¡°The woman survived a point-blank Kaia explosion, and you doubted her?¡±


    ¡°You guys gave me cause to doubt,¡± Cort mumbled.


    Leira wrapped an arm around Gwil¡¯s shoulder and pulled him close as they walked. ¡°That¡¯s some creepy shit. Are you scared?¡±


    Gwil laughed. ¡°More excited. I never thought I¡¯d find out what happened to Caris. But now? Maybe.¡±


    ¡°What about the rest of it, though?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Eh, I don¡¯t care. I¡¯m seeing the World with my friends, so I¡¯m good. Things that I can¡¯t remember don¡¯t matter to me.¡± He bit at his lip. ¡°But those spike things are really bad, Leira. The Yalda¡¯blood is horrible. I can¡¯t describe it properly, but if there¡¯s really so many of them¡­¡±


    ¡°I get it,¡± she said. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t. But I believe you.¡± She smiled at him. ¡°Let¡¯s do something about it.¡±


    They reached the far side of the chamber and started looking for the door. But after moving along the entire length of the wall, they¡¯d found nothing.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure it¡¯s not a dead end?¡± Cort asked as he tapped the butt of his hammer against random stone blocks.


    ¡°Uh.¡± Gwil used Mir and scanned the featureless surface. ¡°Aha! There!¡± He ran to the place where an irregularity wrinkled the veil. ¡°Ooh, secret passage!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re keeping this place hidden, then,¡± Cort said. ¡°Should I smash it?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve already made a racket,¡± Leira said. ¡°No reason to act shy now.¡±


    Cort started beating the hell out of the wall with his hammer. It proved sturdy, but eventually a single block broke loose, and that started a cascade.


    Gwil peered into the widening gap as Cort attacked the compromised areas.


    ¡°Ooh!¡± The hallway beyond was architecturally similar, but in far better shape. Pristine, even, and lighter in color. These blocks had the soft white color of limestone.


    It was well-lit thanks to the ornate candelabras that hung from the walls. A narrow white rug ran down the length. In smashing the wall, Cort had also destroyed some sort of shrine. A broken idol lay on the floor amidst the rubble. It had been decapitated. Gwil saw the head rolling across the tile floor.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think this place is as abandoned as we thought,¡± Leira said.


    Gwil slipped past Cort and wormed his way through the hole. He took one step and felt a shift underfoot.


    Sching!


    ¡°Bugaghwaha!¡±


    An array of spikes had erupted out of the floor. Three impaled Gwil¡¯s left foot. Two others went straight up his right leg.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Leira yelled.


    Cort grabbed her wrist, stopping her. ¡°Careful. Where there¡¯s one booby trap, there¡¯s many booby traps.¡±


    ¡°Owowowhoho,¡± Gwil whimpered. He flared his Nirva, and the pain faded. He tried to lift his foot, but the spikes were barbed. They were packed tight throughout a two-meter by two-meter block and stood knee-high. Gwil was very glad they were not taller.


    Leira and Cort clamored behind him, but Gwil was concentrating.


    He wriggled his foot free, but the trap was so dense with spikes that there was nowhere he could set it down while he worked on extracting his other leg.


    He got himself twisted up, wobbled, fell.


    If Cort had not grabbed him by the arm, Gwil would¡¯ve looked like a fishing net.


    Gwil grinned up at them. ¡°Well, this is a coincidence, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Leira laughed.


    ¡°Just shrink, Gwil!¡± Cort grunted, straining. He was leaning precariously close to the spikes as he reached out to hold Gwil up.


    ¡°No!¡± Leira cried. ¡°One of those could pulp his whole body if he¡¯s small.¡±


    Cort looked at Gwil. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna let that happen.¡±


    Gwil shook his head and let the syrup take him. Externally, it happened in an instant. But inside, he had a measure of control.


    This was something he¡¯d been wondering about: where exactly did the shrinking happen within the scope of his body? Usually, if he wasn¡¯t airborne, he wound up flat on the ground, as if he shrank down into his feet.


    But now, in the limbo between big and small, he saw he could sort of swim his shrunken self into the right place before it manifested.


    Pop.


    As small as a mouse, Gwil hung in the air above the spikes. As he fell, he threw his arms and legs around one and clung to the spike as if climbing a tree trunk.


    ¡°Ta-da!¡± he said as he shimmied his way down to stand in the forest of spikes. The barbs even resembled the tiered layers of a tree.

 Chapter Fifty-Two – Ever Downward

    When Gwil grew back to normal size, he found that his foot and leg had already healed. Curious, he rolled up his pant leg, which was wet and sticky with blood.


    He gasped. No, ¡®healed¡¯ was not accurate. Rather, the wounds¡ªa hole through his foot and a nasty gash that had split his calf open¡ªhad remained shrunken.


    A thin slash was the only mark on his leg, no worse than a cut from a rose thorn. He pried open the hole in his boot so he could look inside. The puncture in his foot was as small as a pinprick.


    He grinned. Now that was useful.


    ¡°Get out of the way,¡± Cort barked.


    Cort started hammering the spikes, knocking them flat so that he and Leira could cross over the trap.


    Gwil looked down this new hallway. It was lit by torches, and its end was blocked by a fancy metal gate. Through the gaps of the woven pattern, he glimpsed a grand, colorful space.


    ¡°Gwil,¡± Cort said. ¡°Check for more traps. I don¡¯t like how we¡¯re caged in.¡±


    Gwil hurried forward and then buckled as three arrows shot out of the wall¡ªone took him in the neck, ripped clean through.


    He pressed his hands over the gushing wound and tried to say something to Cort, but only garbled nonsense came out. Nirva burned in his neck as the tissue reformed and veins rejoined.


    ¡°Gwil!¡± Cort shouted.


    ¡°What?¡± Gwil rasped. Cort was being awfully demanding today.


    He and Leira had made it past the spikes. Cort pointed ahead as a cloud of pink spores plumed from Leira¡¯s eyeflower.


    Gwil whipped around and saw the gate opening. Armed warriors poured in. Ten, twenty, more.


    ¡°They came from the Oubliette!¡± one warrior at the head of the group shouted as they charged in. ¡°Demons from beyond the Gracestorm!¡±


    ¡°The what now?¡± Gwil said, waving his hands at the horde.


    He went unheard over their primal war cries. They were rabid, furious, but as they filled the hall, Gwil noticed their hesitation. They were scared.


    Gwil backed up a few paces, drawing his fork and letting his Nirva flood through his body.


    These warriors were much cooler looking than the guards in Podexia. A mix of men and women, they wore colorful, feathery robes that hung from their left shoulders, and elegant sashes around their waists. Most had dark skin, and where it was exposed, it was often painted with intricate patterns.


    Most wore their hair in long, thin braids that whipped around as they screamed. Dangling fetishes¡ªbones, beads, and other trinkets¡ªwere tied into the braids. Stacked metal hoops adorned their forearms and their necks, perhaps serving as armor. A few of them¡ªleaders, Gwil guessed¡ªwore headdresses made of carved wood, feathers, and reeds.


    They carried bladed clubs and shields decorated with matching symbols¡ªa sun with weeping eyes.


    The warriors formed up and closed in, cautious and deliberate. They pounded the flats of their weapons against their shields in a steady rhythm. Gwil caught a few words through the racket, like ¡°Monsters!¡± and ¡°Demons!¡± and ¡°They came from hell!¡±


    As Cort and Leira came to stand beside him, Gwil made eye contact with the man who¡¯d shouted before, and still held the foremost position. He had a headdress, and was the only one who wore purely green garb.


    ¡°Wait! We¡¯re not demons!¡± Gwil shouted at him.


    A thrown club came spinning through the air. Nirva shot through Gwil¡¯s hand. With one motion, he snatched the club out of the air and then threw it back at them. The warriors did not seem open to conversation.


    Pop. Gwil shrank and steadied himself under the weight of his fork, which had maintained its size and was now like a giant spear. That suited him just fine.


    At Gwil¡¯s sudden disappearance, panic broke the warriors of their resolve. Their rhythmic drumming ceased, and they charged. About forty of them, packed tight in this narrow space, several got tripped up as they advanced.


    Cort stepped forward to meet them, his hammer sweeping across the entire width of the hall. Metal clanged against metal and thudded against meat. Bones crunched.


    ¡°Get out of the way!¡± Leira shrieked, waving her hands frantically through the cloud of pink smoke that drifted toward Cort.


    Gwil hurled himself into the fray. He landed among the feathery scarf of the green-robed warrior. His headdress had a beak and resembled an eagle.


    Unaware of Gwil¡¯s intrusion, the man pushed his way through the fight, trying to make it to Cort, who was wreaking havoc on his comrades. Gwil climbed up through the feathers to stand on the man¡¯s shoulder.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    The guy still had no idea. Gwil spun his fork over his head and plunged it into the soft above the man¡¯s collarbone. Blood spurted from the three-prong wound. Gwil grinned¡ªthe fork worked a treat. He¡¯d thought stabbing someone with an eating utensil might be less effective than with a weapon. That was not the case.


    The eagle-man screamed, clutched at his wound. Gwil skirted away from his grasping hand as the warrior fell down onto one knee. A few of his fellows realized his plight and dragged him back from the front line.


    Gwil wrenched the hilt of the fork, twisting the prongs through the wound. The man collapsed onto his stomach at that.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have to fight!¡± Gwil squeaked, trying to scream over the commotion. ¡°We just want to know what¡¯s happening here!¡±


    The man bared his teeth and growled in answer, but his eyes betrayed his utter terror.


    One warrior who was trying to assist the eagle-man swung her club at Gwil. Seeing it coming, he tensed, and the weapon cracked against his tiny spine with an almost metallic clang. He barely felt the blow, and did not even lose his footing.


    Gwil laughed. Thanks to habits he¡¯d picked up from trying to keep his Nyx running, he¡¯d gotten better at containing the overabundance of Nirva in his shrunken body. He still felt a bit jittery, but he was brimming with so much Nirva that the blow from the club felt like a feather.


    The green-haired warrior woman swung again, and this time Gwil was not ready for it at all. He clung to the fork, and then was blasted away into the wall, ripping the prongs out of the eagle-man¡¯s shoulder.


    Cort plowed through the enemy force, swinging his hammer with abandon as if he were reaping wheat. Leira sat on his shoulders, pink spores streaming from her eye like a hose. All around them, warriors collapsed as they drew breath. Glistening blood soaked the white carpet.


    Those that were still standing fled through the gate as Cort rampaged after them. Gwil caught sight of the eagle-man stumbling through, assisted by his companions.


    Cort made it to the gate and blocked it with his hammer as the warriors tried to lock them in. They reached through the gaps to beat on Cort with their clubs, but as they did so, Leira sprayed them with more spores and they dropped like flies.


    Gwil ran after them, and though he tried to grow back to size, he failed. Shit. Why now? Whatever, he didn¡¯t need to be big right now. He passed by towering heaps of broken and sleeping bodies. None of the warriors that remained in the hall were fit for any fighting.


    Gwil jumped up onto Cort¡¯s back and climbed onto his shoulder, whereupon Leira grabbed him and put him on top of her head, well out of reach of any swinging clubs.


    He could see the other side properly now, and it was a marvel. Beyond the gate, a massive, multi-story atrium. Five tiered balconies ran around the perimeter, each bustling with people. The place was built from tan limestone and the surfaces were covered with multi-colored tiles. Lit by hundreds of flickering torches, it looked to Gwil like the most enormous and immaculate bathroom in the World.


    Running water flowed through a labyrinth of channels and chutes, many of which crossed through open air, rising and falling throughout the space. Lush plant life filled countless troughs that ran adjacent to the water. More plants hung suspended from pots and lattices.


    ¡°Ooh! So pretty!¡± Gwil said. Now this was a proper temple. ¡°Maybe we can see-¡±


    Cort dove away from the gate, sending Gwil and Leira tumbling. A barrage of arrows clattered against the gate. The remaining warriors took the chance to try to shut the gate, but Cort caught it with his foot.


    Gwil ran out between the bars and surged his Nirva. He went from giant leg to giant leg, slashing open exposed achilles tendons with his fork¡ªthe warriors wore sandals.


    As fallen fighters dragged themselves across the blood-slicked floor, a shadow fell over Gwil. He crouched and held his fork straight upright as a foot came crashing down.


    Gwil jumped away and saw that it was the eagle-man that had tried to squish him. ¡°Wait!¡± he yelled. ¡°Talk to us!¡±


    But the man was too busy screaming at his comrades, signaling the retreat. Carrying their wounded and incapacitated, the remaining warriors fled.


    Something within the walls groaned and then stone scraped against stone. Gwil whipped around in time to see Leira and Cort dive through the gate. Behind them, the entirety of the hallway¡¯s ceiling crashed down, revealing that it was yet another trap¡ªa single massive block held by a chain pulley system.


    ¡°Dickheads!¡± Leira spat as she and Cort got to their feet. ¡°They killed a bunch of their own people with that. I¡¯d only put them to sleep.¡±


    The warriors had cleared the area, giving the trio a moment to breathe. They stood on a balcony on the vast atrium¡¯s second level.


    ¡°A few of the ones I hammered might be better off crushed,¡± Cort said, grimacing. ¡°Dammit, they didn¡¯t give us much of a fucking chance, did they?¡±


    ¡°They think we¡¯re demons or something,¡± Gwil said, absently. Looking out at the incredible sight of the atrium, he realized that the terraced walls were packed with staircases, and doorways and windows. These were living spaces, hundreds of homes, all stacked together. A maze of pathways ran throughout, almost like little roads. The main balconies appeared to serve as thoroughfares.


    ¡°Yeah, I heard them going on about that,¡± Leira said. ¡°Very rude. Xenophobes, I bet.¡±


    The balconies were suddenly overrun with warriors. Hordes of them approached from every direction, a thousand at least, and surely more that they couldn¡¯t see. Archers appeared over the railings from numerous vantage points. They drew their bows and fired.


    Gwil, Leira, and Cort rushed back, ducking into the gate¡¯s alcove and cramming themselves against the wall. They were protected from their left side and from ahead, but still exposed to the right.


    Pop. Gwil embiggened and threw himself over Cort and Leira as the hail of whizzing arrows struck with a symphony of plinks and cracks and squelches.


    He yanked a couple of arrows out of his back and then turned to face the next volley. Nirva erupted throughout Gwil¡¯s body; ethereal vapor streamed from his pores.


    Gwil swatted away the arrows as if they were gnats. Razor-sharp arrowheads struck his palm and bounced off as if they¡¯d struck iron.


    ¡°How the fuck are we fighting an entire army all of a sudden?¡± Cort barked.


    Screaming warriors were closing in on both sides of the wrap-around balcony. They¡¯d be overrun in a matter of seconds.


    ¡°Not only did they try to crush us,¡± Leira said as she pulled a couple more arrows out of Gwil¡¯s back, ¡°But they blocked us from escaping.¡±


    ¡°Time to go,¡± Cort said. ¡°Grab on.¡±


    Leira climbed onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. Gwil shrank and jumped up into Leira¡¯s hand.


    Hammer aloft, Cort sprinted out of the alcove, rushing right between the two converging bands of warriors. He vaulted over the railing.


    ¡°Argh!¡± Cort screamed as they plummeted. He raised his hammer over his head and slammed it down on the tiled floor of the atrium at the exact instant before they landed.


    The floor exploded around them. Gwil had barely realized they¡¯d continued falling before they hit the ground in a chamber that was lit by bright green light.


    ¡°Cort, could you stop fucking doing that?¡± Leira screamed.

 Chapter Fifty-Three – Born to Die

    ¡°It was an accident!¡± Cort shouted at Leira. He looked around the bright green room they¡¯d fallen into. ¡°Fucking hell! Is all they have in this godsforsaken place strung-up corpses?¡±


    Gwil was too small to register any of the looming shapes in this new environment. They¡¯d landed in soft sand, and he¡¯d sank up to his waist. Pop.


    He grew back to normal size¡ªphew¡ªand looked around.


    In the center of the room was a massive, pale green sculpture of a quadrupedal eaglelike beast. Made of solid jade, it stood reared on its hind legs¡ªalmost like a horse¡ªwith its wings splayed out. Two human arms stuck out of its chest. One arm cradled a stone baby, and the other wielded a golden scepter.


    Carved into the wings were two protuberant¡ªand very realistic¡ªhuman faces. The surface of the statue was opaque and glossy. The light that shone from it, though blinding, seemed an impossibility. It did not glow from within¡ªthe jade simply was that bright.


    Though less captivating, the things that encircled the statue were far more troubling.


    Five of them. Wooden structures, X-shaped with a horizontal bar cutting across the middle. The ones on the far side faced Gwil.


    Crucified corpses, with their limbs splayed across the beams. The bodies were humanoid except that they all had extra pairs of arms, which were nailed to the horizontal bars.


    Shouting voices sounded through the hole in the ceiling, and shadows flickered across the opening. Several warriors peered down over the edge.


    Surrounding the sandy pit were rows upon rows of benches, as if this chamber were some sort of arena or auditorium. Do they come here to watch torture and executions?


    ¡°Gah, alright,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I¡¯ve had it with this place. Let¡¯s ruin everything.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fuck!¡± Leira yelped. Three warriors had just jumped down the hole.


    Gwil ran up and punched two of them in the face. Both collapsed, unconscious. He snatched the club out of the hands of the third warrior and bashed him over the head with it.


    Two more had fallen during the scuffle. Gwil grabbed them both by the collars and smashed their faces together. Their noses crunched against each other, and blood dotted the sand.


    ¡°Move, Gwil,¡± Leira said. ¡°I¡¯ll handle this. Go find a way out.¡±


    She unleashed a medley of spores¡ªpink, red, yellow, brown. The cloud beneath the hole, engulfing the fallen warriors, and then rose upward as a pillar.


    Gwil watched in awe¡ªhe had not realized she could manipulate her spores like that. Then his eyes watered and his throat tightened, and he remembered he was supposed to be doing something.


    Cort had already moved to the far end of the auditorium, keeping to the outside of the crucifixion ring. Gwil decided to cut through the middle.


    At the center, there was a sixth crucifix. Gwil had not noticed it before¡ªit stood side by side with the jade eagle statue, though the crucifix was dwarfed by the idol.


    The woman who hung from it¡­ did not look so dead as the others. Their bodies were all in varying states of decay. However, this woman looked like she might¡¯ve been sleeping. And she was breathing¡ªthe air shimmered as it fell from her mouth. And then she lifted her head.


    ¡°You¡¯re alive!¡±


    The woman stared at Gwil, blinked a couple times, then shook her head as if to clear it.


    Her headdress was like a crown. An array of jadestones¡ªcarved to resemble feathers¡ªformed a fan atop her head. The stones crackled with lightning.


    Gwil guessed she was in her thirties. She had brown skin, brown eyes, and braided black hair that fell nearly to her waist. It was full of gold ringlets and multi-colored beads.


    For someone who was mid-crucifixion, she was well-groomed. And hale. Her eyes were not vacant, and her face was not twisted in agony. The woman looked both healthy and content.


    She wore a twinkling robe that matched her headdress. There were jadestones embedded in her skin, a ring of them surrounded her collarbone. There was another in the center of her forehead, and more that went down the lengths of each of her four arms.


    Where the spikes impaled her wrists, there were no wounds, nor any blood. Scar tissue had not formed around the metal¡ªher flesh had healed perfectly.


    She inhaled deep, and then ¡°Wawahuaaa!¡±


    She screamed and flailed as much as she could manage with all six of her limbs nailed to the crucifix.


    ¡°Shhhh!¡± Gwil hissed. He thought about covering her mouth, but it felt too rude.


    ¡°Demons! Demons in the Stormwomb! Help, help!¡± She whipped her head back and forth as if expecting someone to appear.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°I know!¡± Gwil said. ¡°They¡¯re killing you. Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m gonna help.¡±


    ¡°Wawahuaaa! Get away, get away!¡±


    ¡°How do you like having four arms? Do they ever get in the way?¡±


    ¡°You will not lull me with your sorcerous chit-chat, demon,¡± the woman squealed.


    Gwil knelt to look at the spikes in her ankles. They did not possess the burning gleam of Erithist, but Gwil¡¯s breath caught as he prodded one with a cautious finger. He sighed in relief. Just normal metal.


    He used Mir to confirm what he¡¯d already guessed from her lack of wounds. This woman was Hallowed. Her aura was a swirling storm of green and gray and black, and it exploded out of her, filling this space and beyond. The silhouettes of her arms blended together to form wings.


    ¡°Do not touch me, demon!¡± she yelled. ¡°Haven¡¯t you taken enough? Leave us with our pitiful sliver, please!¡± Her legs spasmed against the spikes, but she still she showed no signs of physical discomfort.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gwil looked up at her. ¡°What are you talking about? You¡¯re gonna die like all these others.¡±


    ¡°I am honored to die for this noble cause! It is my birthright.¡±


    ¡°Born to die? That¡¯s stupid. What¡¯s your name, lady?¡±


    ¡°I am Challe¡¯Jade, Sixth Maker of the Malikau Gracestorm, First Sacrifice, and I will not let you destroy humanity¡¯s final bastion.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Gwil, and I¡¯m not a demon. I¡¯m here with my friends. We¡¯re gonna rescue you.¡± Gwil focused his Nirva into his arms and his fingers and began to work loose the spike that impaled the left leg of this Challe¡¯Jade.


    ¡°I¡¯m begging you!¡± she shrieked as if Gwil¡¯s touch was like hot iron against her skin. Her head lolled back to look upward. ¡°Please, no.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Gwil asked, but he did stop tugging at the spike.


    ¡°I forbid it!¡± Challe¡¯Jade spat. ¡°If you un-crucify me, you will be the eradicator of a species. Your kind has already destroyed the entire World. Please, demon, allow us to wither away in our haven. We are no threat! Forget you ever found us. Lie to your masters if you must. Even a monster like you can have a heart.¡±


    Gwil stood up to look at her, though the woman¡¯s face was still elevated above him. ¡°What are you talking about? You¡¯re acting crazy.¡±


    ¡°The Gracestorm is our meager salvation!¡± Challe¡¯Jade said, eyes crazed, spittle flying from her mouth. ¡°I carry all that weight upon my shoulders. I am the Vessel of the Jade Goddess of the Storm and the sole protectorate of humanity. I am our only hope of survival. If you kill me, you are dooming me to an eternity in hell, an eternity of lamenting how I doomed my people. Have mercy, demon.¡±


    Gwil scrunched his face up and scratched the top of his head. ¡°I told you, I¡¯m just a person. And I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s all completely wrong. The World¡¯s not destroyed. I¡¯m just gonna remove the spikes, okay?¡±


    She flailed, and her crucifix shook and creaked. ¡°Brother! Quez, save me!¡±


    Gwil looked around as she continued screaming. He noticed an order to the arrangement of the other crucifixes. The corpse furthest to his right was little more than a skeleton. Going around the circle, the bodies were less and less decayed. The leftmost one still had skin and hair.


    ¡°You¡¯re causing these storms with your powers?¡± Gwil asked her. ¡°Just stop doing that. Everything outside is all messed up because of you.¡±


    ¡°Lies! Lies! Lies!¡± Her thrashing was such that Gwil reached out, thinking the crucifix might topple over.


    He laughed. ¡°Lady, I¡¯m sorry, but you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. The World is fine. There¡¯s like a billion people or more. There¡¯s a city with robots like fifty kilometers away. And I flew here on a flying ship. Things are bad, but the World¡¯s not ruined.¡±


    ¡°My storm will rage until my death and then it will imbue my successor! It won¡¯t end here, demon. We are survivors.¡±


    Gwil waved her off and went back to work on the spikes in her legs. Maybe she was under a spell or something. Either way, Gwil wasn¡¯t gonna let her die like this.


    ¡°Where did you come from, invader?¡± Challe¡¯Jade asked. ¡°Please, just tell me if my brother lives.¡±


    ¡°I dunno,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Your warriors crushed a bunch of themselves with some stone trap.¡±


    ¡°Gwil! What the fuck are you doing?¡± Leira shouted from outside the circle. She stood next to a pile of unconscious feather-garbed warriors. ¡°Is that person alive?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Gwil said. ¡°She¡¯s crazy, though. We gotta free her.¡±


    ¡°I am not crazy!¡± She twisted her head around to look up at the big green statue. ¡°Merciful Eagle, I refuse to believe you let us suffer for this fate.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna be fine, lady,¡± Gwil said. He braced his foot against the wooden post and then, with a surge of Nirva, he ripped the first spike out.


    ¡°Nooohoho!¡± the woman sobbed, weakly, as if defeated by her despair.


    Gwil threw the spike down and frowned. ¡°Challe¡¯Jade, listen to me. I swear, the World is not gonna end just because you stop getting tortured. Everything will be fine, and you will get to live. The Apocalypse was like nine hundred years ago.¡±


    Leira came running over. ¡°I think they gave up on trying to come down through the hole. Woah! Four arms? That¡¯s fun. Where¡¯s Cort?¡±


    Gwil shrugged and then yanked the other spike out of Challe¡¯Jade¡¯s leg. The two gaping wounds started filling themselves in with raw flesh.


    ¡°What¡¯s her deal?¡± Leira asked, nodding at the crucifix.


    ¡°Uh, I think she makes the storms, and she thinks the people here are the only humans left in the World,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Oof,¡± Leira said. ¡°Sounds messy. But that¡¯s one mystery solved. Did you ask her about the spiked person in the temple?¡±


    Challe¡¯Jade raised her freed legs to aim a flurry of kicks at Gwil. Gwil fended her attacks as he wiggled out another spike, the first from her arms. ¡°No,¡± Gwil said to Leira. ¡°She¡¯s not being cooperative.¡±


    ¡°How dare you keep up this fa?ade as if I¡¯m some sort of idiot,¡± Challe¡¯Jade snapped. ¡°Have some honor, demons.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not demons!¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Yo!¡±


    It was Cort, calling from the far end of the auditorium.


    ¡°I blocked the door, but there¡¯s a hell of a lot of warriors about to break through.¡± He stood in a tunnel that went through the rows of seating.


    ¡°You deal with this loon, Gwil,¡± Leira said, raising her voice over Challe¡¯Jade¡¯s howling. ¡°I¡¯ll help Cort¡ªthese warriors are weak. Just try to get some information out of her.¡±


    Challe¡¯Jade cackled. ¡°You will wish we were weak, demon woman. The warriors of Malikau have devotion that debased beings such as yourselves cannot fathom. Every single one of them would joyfully give their lives for the mere chance to keep humanity¡¯s last ember of hope alive. They have sworn themselves to the cause, and that vow will not be broken.¡±


    Gwil ripped out the last two spikes from Challe¡¯Jade¡¯s third and fourth arms. The glowing eagle statue sparked and flickered, and the light of Challe¡¯Jade¡¯s headdress was extinguished.


    She made no effort to catch herself as she fell from the crucifix, but Gwil caught her under the arms and heaved her over his shoulder. He thought she might be unconscious but¡­


    ¡°Stop that!¡± Gwil shouted as Challe¡¯Jade pounded on his back with her four fists and drove her knees into his gut. ¡°Good luck, Leira. I¡¯ll have a look around and see what happens. Find me if you need anything.¡±


    Leira blew a kiss and went skipping off to help Cort.


    Gwil looked down at Challe¡¯Jade. ¡°You look like you could use some ketchup.¡±

 Chapter Fifty-Four – You’re Not a Vessel

    Gwil adjusted his hold on Challe¡¯Jade so that her arms were locked down. ¡°Hmmm,¡± he said, looking around. ¡°Where should we go?¡±


    Challe¡¯Jade bit Gwil¡¯s ear and ripped it partway off, which caused Gwil to squeal and drop her. She scrambled across the ground, moving like a spider with all her limbs.


    Gwil dove and grabbed her by the ankle. With his other hand, he pressed his palm over his dangling ear. It was hot to the touch as Nirva healed the torn flesh.


    Challe¡¯Jade twisted herself against Gwil¡¯s grip and threw two handfuls of sand into his face. ¡°Go back to the hell you came from, demon!¡±


    Gwil pinned her down beneath his knee and wrangled three of her wrists. The two extra arms did not come from beneath her normal ones, rather they came out of her shoulder blades, like wings. Their joints provided fuller movement than a normal shoulder, which Gwil learned as she smacked him across the face with her fourth hand.


    The stones in her flesh glowed bright green and he could feel her Nirva flowing as they struggled. She was definitely Hallowed¡ªhe¡¯d been right about that.


    Gwil surged his own Nirva against hers and overpowered her with little effort. Sheriff Jackson had done the same thing to him when they first fought.


    As Challe¡¯Jade¡¯s Nirva receded in terror, he got the sense of her essence¡ªstrong, volatile, but thin as a cloud. She might have been the source of these incredible storms, but she didn¡¯t know how to fight.


    Gwil immobilized her in a bear hug and then stood. ¡°Ha! We¡¯ll just go right back up that hole. They won¡¯t expect that.¡±


    ¡°Where is your horde?¡± Challe¡¯Jade spat.


    ¡°My what?¡±


    ¡°Your army. Your masters would not send three lowly demons to infiltrate our haven.¡±


    ¡°You are so stupid,¡± Gwil said. ¡°We¡¯re not demons! We don¡¯t have masters and there¡¯s no horde. It¡¯s just the three of us here. I¡¯m gonna take you outside and show you that you¡¯re wrong about the World.¡±


    Challe¡¯Jade cackled. ¡°You¡¯ve come here alone? Scouts, I suspect. I have nothing to fear, then. You¡¯re as good as dead. Your body will burn, and you will only be able to lament your failure to convey our location to your masters.¡±


    Gwil carried her over to the pile of bodies heaped below the hole in the ceiling. Leira had done a number on them¡ªthe slumbering warriors were stacked higher than Gwil¡¯s head.


    He stuck his boot into a fleshy crevice and climbed the heap. A tremendous bang came from the far end of the auditorium. Screams, pounding footsteps, the clatter of weaponry.


    Challe¡¯Jade laughed in her sinister way again. ¡°Your companions will be slaughtered. Go help them, if you have a heart, you scum-sucking monster.¡±


    ¡°Nah, they¡¯ll be fine. Up we go.¡±


    He jumped upward from the top of the pile and rose through the hole, landing on the edge of the broken floor tiles.


    ¡°Ooh, wow!¡± Gwil said, getting a better look at the atrium now that things were less chaotic. He spun in place, taking it all in.


    An intricate mess of waterways crisscrossed overhead. The space was immense, lit by thousands of torches, layer upon layer of constructs, brimming with vegetation and flowing water that almost sparkled. The structures were formed of soft-white sandstone, accented with blues and greens.


    Gwil jumped, startled, when his vision was filled by a huge statue of a man looming over them. They¡¯d landed right at its foot. It was two stories tall, depicting a fancy-type robed figure wearing a feline skull on his head. The cat¡¯s jaws framed his face.


    He climbed up the statue and sat down on top of its head.


    ¡°Get down from there!¡± Challe¡¯Jade yelped. ¡°Do not sit on the Elder Warden!¡±


    From this vantage, Gwil could better see the mosaics that adorned many of the walls and ceilings. The imagery was familiar to him. Mayor Guice and a few of the other townsfolk were practitioners of some ancient religion that had local roots. The aesthetics of this temple looked quite similar to the artifacts that his old neighbors possessed.


    ¡°This place is amazing,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I¡¯d be jealous, too, if I lived in the sulfuric pits beneath the Ringed City,¡± Challe¡¯Jade said.


    ¡°Where¡¯d everyone go?¡± Gwil asked as he climbed down from the top of the statue. The atrium had been brimming with activity earlier¡ªand not just warriors, but ordinary folk, too.


    Challe¡¯Jade scoffed. ¡°Every single person in Malikau is either trying to kill you or hiding from you. And stop being so¡­ pleasant. What even is this?¡±


    ¡°Hey, Challe¡¯Jade. Would you rather I call you Challe or Jade?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me anything!¡± she said with a spasm of effort against Gwil¡¯s hold.


    He gave her a Nirva-boosted squeeze. She shuddered and went still.


    ¡°I¡¯ll call you Challe, since the jade thing is just because of that bird statue, right?¡±


    ¡°It is not just a statue,¡± Challe wailed. ¡°It is a conduit of the goddess¡¯s power that I embody.¡±


    ¡°Okay, would you prefer Jade, then?¡± Gwil asked as he strolled through the atrium. They passed a pool full of little brown fish and orange crustaceans.


    ¡°No, I would not pref- Argh!¡± Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Gwil grinned at her. ¡°Now where? Do you have any friends you wanna bring along?¡±


    ¡°Stop talking to me!¡±


    ¡°I guess we¡¯ll just go out the way we came in¡­ Uhh¡­ Oh right, the weird temple. Where was that?¡±


    ¡°What temple?¡± Challe asked.


    ¡°Wait! You guys called it the Oubliette. What¡¯s up with that? My last name is Oubliette.¡±


    ¡°You came from the Oubliette? Goddess, forgive us, of course! How could we be so foolish? You opened a portal? More of you will pour through?¡±


    Gwil swatted away those words. ¡°I¡¯m done talking to you about that stuff. You¡¯re too stubborn. You¡¯ll just have to see for yourself.¡±


    Gwil spun in place until he spotted the section of balcony that Cort had jumped down from. He climbed up onto a pedestal and then jumped up using a spurt of Nirva.


    Upon landing, Gwil burst out laughing. The giant stone block¡ªthe one that had nearly crushed them¡ªfilled the hallway, leaving it impassable. ¡°I forgot about that. Hmm.¡± Gwil could make it through there easily if he shrank, of course, but that was no good if he wanted to bring Challe along.


    ¡°Where¡¯s a different exit?¡± he asked, but a boom of thunder drowned his question. Gwil hadn¡¯t noticed through all the commotion, but the storm was still raging. The conditions outside must have been insane. Even though they were dozens of meters underground, the thunderclaps were as loud as any he¡¯d ever heard, and the rain pounded as if the bedrock above was a pane of glass.


    ¡°Why¡¯s the storm still going? You should turn that off so I can show you the outside.¡±


    ¡°The Gracestorm endures! The goddess prevails! My power has birthed the storm, but now it belongs to the sky. Malikau will not fall without a fight, demon.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll just keep going up, then,¡± Gwil said. He stepped onto the balcony¡¯s railing and leapt up to the third level. It looked like some sort of market, with row upon row of wooden stands.


    ¡°Woah,¡± Gwil said, peeking under a tarp, which hid a bunch of apples. He took one and started eating it. ¡°Where do you guys get all this stuff if you¡¯re trapped in this pit?¡±


    ¡°The goddess provides,¡± Challe said.


    ¡°Really? Cool. I didn¡¯t know gods worked that way.¡± He took another bite of his apple. ¡°Tell me the way out. If you don¡¯t, I¡¯ll bust through the roof.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Challe shrieked. Gwil dropped her at the burst of Nirva that she released. But she did not try to run away. Instead, she went up on her knees and grabbed him by the collar. ¡°If you insist you are not a demon, that you¡¯re benevolent, prove it to me. To open a wound in this temple is to see Malikau flooded and destroyed. When the Gracestorm reaches its peak, its capacity for destruction is boundless.¡±


    Gwil laughed. ¡°Challe, it¡¯s your storm. It¡¯s your Invoke. Just make it stop.¡±


    ¡°I already told you it has outgrown me. And saying things like that only reinforces my belief that you are a demon. Why would you want the Gracestorm to end if not to enable your horde¡¯s invasion?¡±


    Gwil tugged down on both of his cheeks. ¡°You¡¯re impossible. If you think we came through a portal, the storm wouldn¡¯t even be doing anything useful.¡±


    ¡°I know nothing of your methods, demon,¡± Challe said. ¡°I must consider every possibility.¡±


    As Gwil gaped at her, pulling even harder on his cheeks, Challe took her chance to run for it.


    Gwil¡¯s hand flashed as he caught the bicep of her rear-mounted left arm. She attacked him with the other three. Gwil allowed her to beat on him for a bit. He focused his Nirva into his head. Her fists landed like soft rolls of bread.


    Challe wore herself out¡ªher breath went ragged; her strikes became weak and aimless.


    ¡°Done?¡± Gwil said, smiling. ¡°Listen. It really seems like you¡¯re letting yourself be tortured to death in service of a shitty lie. I can¡¯t stand that. So, I¡¯m gonna stay here until you see the truth, and then you can do whatever you want. Go nail yourself to that crucifix again if you decide that¡¯s best.


    ¡°But the World has not ended, and you are not the last humans. I promise. Please, let me show you. There¡¯s no reason for you to die for something fake and pointless.¡±


    Challe¡¯s lips curled and quivered. Tiny crackles of green lightning sparked in her gray irises. The jadestones embedded in her skin glowed. She said nothing.


    ¡°If you see those things are true,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Then that proves it¡¯s all bullshit, right? All this crazy stuff that you¡¯ve been made to believe.¡±


    Challe bit down on her lower lip, hard enough that it looked painful. ¡°I will accompany you, demon. If only to keep an eye on you.¡±


    ¡°Cool. Thanks,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Okay, who¡¯s in charge of this place? Are you in charge?¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± Challe said. ¡°I¡¯m the Vessel. His High Holiness, Tezca the Elder Warden is our ruler.¡±


    ¡°Are you serious? Alright, this is probably his fault. Where is he?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m obviously not going to tell you that,¡± Challe said. ¡°I told you I¡¯d come with you¡ªnot that I¡¯d turn traitor.¡±


    Gwil looked past her, his eyes tracing a small boat-shaped thing that was floating down a waterway. It drifted alongside them, carrying a couple of crates as it moved toward a massive downward slope.


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil scooped Challe up and then jumped onto the boat just as it reached the crest of the slide. He secured his footing as the craft lurched at the added weight and then¡­


    They plummeted. Water sprayed in a wave as the air rushed at their increasing speed. Gwil laughed at the exhilarating weightlessness. Challe¡¯Jade¡¯s ornate, beautiful headdress flew off her head.


    ¡°Wahoo!¡±


    ¡°Ahhhhhh!¡±


    They reached a dip, slowed as they ascended another slope, and then down again. This time, the waterway followed a winding curve. Gwil had to crouch low and lean inward so that they wouldn¡¯t fall out.


    The little boat slowed along a flat stretch, bobbing in the water. Gwil hopped up onto the dock-like structure beside them.


    ¡°Sorry about your hat,¡± Gwil said as he set Challe down on her feet. ¡°But that was amazing! Wanna go again?¡±


    ¡°No, I do not,¡± Challe snapped. ¡°That is illegal and dangerous. Children and drunks get themselves maimed and killed playing that stupid game.¡±


    ¡°I saw you smiling, though,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Besides, you and I can¡¯t be hurt. We¡¯re Hallows.¡±


    ¡°What? We are nothing alike, demon.¡±


    ¡°Yes we are. We¡¯re the same. You died before they put you on that crucifix, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Challe¡¯s face fell slightly at that. ¡°Yes. That is how the next Vessel is selected.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re not a vessel. You¡¯re just a Hallow. You died and came back to life with powers. By the way, you could be way stronger. I guess they didn¡¯t tell you anything about what you can do. Why do you think that is?¡±


    ¡°Temptation will not work on me,¡± Challe said.


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m just telling you how it is. Making storms or whatever, that¡¯s your Invoke. Look.¡±


    Pop. He shrank down to the size of a mouse, waved his arms around, and then grew back. ¡°Mine is shrinking. There¡¯s this, too.¡±


    Gwil held up his hand and snapped his pointer finger to the side so that it cracked and stuck out horizontally. He bent it back into place, gave it a pulse of Nirva, and wiggled it in Challe¡¯s face. ¡°We can heal from anything. That¡¯s why the spikes in the crucifix didn¡¯t hurt you. Look, the holes in your wrists have already healed. You don¡¯t know what Nirva is?¡±


    ¡°Shut up! Enough!¡± Challe said, stomping her foot. ¡°It is no surprise a demon would possess magical powers. But you are nothing compared to the goddess.¡±


    Gwil eyed another small boat as it floated down the channel.


    ¡°We¡¯ll just ride around until we find this Warden. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Gwil scooped Challe up as she started to protest, then ran down the dock while cradling her in his arms. He caught up to the boat, jumped on, and they were off.


    ¡°Hey, who¡¯s your brother?¡± Gwil shouted over the rush.


    Challe stopped her wailing and looked up at Gwil, but did not respond. She picked at one of the jadestones in her arm like it was a scab.


    ¡°I¡¯ll help him, if you want. My friends and I will help all of you. You¡¯re not the only one who¡¯s stuck living this lie.¡±


    ¡°My brother would¡¯ve been leading the warriors you fought. He wears pure green and an eagle headdress in the goddess''s image.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Gwil grinned down at her as their boat slowed down. ¡°He¡¯s alive and well! Or he was. Cort, maybe¡­ Yeah! He¡¯s fine.¡±


    Challe¡¯s eyes flashed as she grabbed a fistful of Gwil¡¯s shirt. ¡°Quez is alive? You¡¯re certain?¡±


    Gwil nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sure he didn¡¯t get crushed by the block. I did stab him with a fork, but don¡¯t worry.¡±

 Chapter Fifty-Five – Makeshift Rocket Boots

    ¡°How did I get stuck carrying Gwil¡¯s backpack?¡± Cort said.


    ¡°I¡¯m more interested in how you avoided carrying mine,¡± Leira said. ¡°Wait. Give me the Erithist Spike. You can¡¯t be trusted with it.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± Cort said.


    ¡°It means I¡¯m more likely to run away from a fight than you, so there¡¯s less chance I get it taken away.¡±


    Cort grunted and pulled the cloth-wrapped Spike out of his backpack. Leira took it and stuffed it into her own bag, then looked up at the annoying racket.


    It was fortunate that the doors of this wretched auditorium were made of solid iron. Cort had hammered the locking mechanism out of shape to jam it, and then piled an assortment of crates, stone blocks, and furniture in front of it.


    Standing in the tunnel that led to the doors, Leira and Cort could hear the clamoring horde of rabid warriors. They pounded on the doors, but that wasn¡¯t where they intended to break through. The stone wall surrounding the doors was weaker and already crumbling under the warriors¡¯ assault. It would collapse fully in a matter of heartbeats.


    ¡°Can we fight this many?¡± Leira asked. A cloud of her spores¡ªpink mixed with red¡ªhung across the stretch of wall that was going to be breached.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Cort said. ¡°If they don¡¯t have any Hallows, there¡¯s a chance. We have a strong position. We can hold this bottleneck for a long time. They¡¯re gonna be squeezing themselves through, and your spores will stack a pile of bodies in their path. If Gwil was here, I wouldn¡¯t think twice.¡±


    ¡°Aye, but he¡¯s not.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and there¡¯s a lot of them. It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t think we can win, but I¡¯d rather not take the risk.¡±


    ¡°You have an idea?¡± Leira asked.


    Cort patted the metal casing of the jetpack. ¡°This thing¡¯s got a bit of fuel left.¡±


    ¡°Fucking hell,¡± Leira groaned. ¡°Enough with the smashing through the ceiling thing, man.¡±


    ¡°No. Not up. Through.¡±


    Leira raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°It¡¯ll work. Look.¡±


    Cort grabbed two metal chairs from the heap in front of the doors and handed them to Leira. ¡°You¡¯re gonna hang on my back and hold these like spears. We¡¯ll rip through all of them.¡±


    The wall along the left side of the doors blew apart. Stone blocks crashed to the floor as warriors stuffed themselves through the narrow gap. A cloud of dust obscured them.


    Dust and spores. Half of the warriors dropped unconscious, falling forward through the threshold. The others writhed as red patches speckled their faces. One warrior cracked open his comrade¡¯s head with his club.


    Leira clenched her teeth, glaring as she drove the victims of her enthrallment into a frenzy. Any warrior that breathed of her spores either collapsed or turned rabid. Either one left the gap full of useless bodies.


    ¡°Alright,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m down for your stupid plan.¡±


    Cort passed her the jetpack. Leira¡¯s eyes went wide.


    ¡°You have to wear it. How else will you hang on my back without getting your legs burned off?¡±


    ¡°Shit, right,¡± Leira said, laughing. She strapped on the jetpack. Cort knelt and Leira wrapped her arms and legs around him, squeezing herself between the other backpacks that Cort still wore.


    ¡°Angle the thrusters so they¡¯re just a hair shy of perfectly horizontal,¡± Cort said as he held up the two chairs so that she could hook her arms through their supports. She positioned the chairbacks on Cort¡¯s shoulders, forming an array of eight tiny spears.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Leira said. ¡°Wanna hook some onto my legs, too?¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t hurt,¡± Cort said. He hiked her up on his back and she stuck her legs out, bracing her knees against his hips to keep them extended. Cort stuck two chairs onto her legs. ¡°Eh, this might be a little much.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense,¡± Leira said. ¡°You can handle it.¡±


    ¡°I do feel pretty unstoppable,¡± Cort said, inspecting himself. He clapped his hands. ¡°Ready? I¡¯m gonna break the lock and we¡¯ll blast through the doors. That¡¯s the last thing they¡¯re expecting.¡±


    Leira had her eyes on the broken section of the wall. A few warriors had come stumbling through, and most of her spores had been consumed. She made to reach around her back to activate the jetpack¡­


    ¡°Ahhh. Cort?¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡± Cort grunted as he bashed the door¡¯s lock into bits.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any hands free to pull the cord.¡±


    ¡°Shit.¡±


    The iron doors flew open with a tremendous bang. Screaming warriors plowed through the pile of shit that had served to barricade.


    The feather-clad horde swallowed them. Cort smashed a few warriors and then lost his footing. They fell backwards and got stuck like that. Like¡­ like a turtle built out of broken toothpicks.


    Adjusting her hold on the chair, Leira clamped one hand over Cort¡¯s nose and mouth and let plume after plume of spores belch from her eyeflower¡ªthe whole gamut, save the acidic ones. The cloud engulfed them where they lay.


    Cort was flailing¡ªswinging his hammer with abandon¡ªbecause he couldn¡¯t breathe. That was for his own good, since they were gonna get stomped to death if she didn¡¯t save them.


    Leira rammed one of the chair legs into the mouth of a warrior that got too close, breaking a few of his teeth. She noted how pretty the pattern of his body paint was, then shoved the whole chair away, sending the man tumbling backward.


    With that hand freed, Leira reached underneath herself, feeling along the bottom of the jetpack. ¡°Ah-ha!¡± She felt the ripcord¡¯s handle and yanked it. The Kaia engine revved, but failed to catch.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Cort squeaked out something unintelligible through her clamping hands.


    She pulled the cord again, and the thrusters screamed to life.


    Driven by a terrible speed that Leira had failed to anticipate, they went flying across the ground, a mangled mess of metal and flesh, whipping around as wild as a loose hose.


    The legs of the chairs bashed and skewered dozens of warriors. Leira relinquished her grip on Cort¡¯s mouth.


    Gasping for breath, he screamed, ¡°Idiotttt!¡±


    Their absurd tangle spun in maddening, stomach-churning circles, a whirling dervish of destructive furniture, erratic as a dog frantically dragging its ass around on the ground. They smashed into a wall. The chair legs got caught up in a bundle of bodies, and they bounced upward. The thrusters, no longer obstructed by the ground, fired them off like a champagne cork. They whirligigged through the air. Leira screamed as she saw one warrior get decapitated by a chair leg.


    Miraculously, Cort had managed to twist himself around and, when their erratic flight path sent them spinning downward, he landed on his feet.


    They blasted forward along the ground, driven by the full power of the jetpack. In that moment, the chair legs truly channeled the spirit of a squadron of vicious spearmen. They cleared the doorway in a flash, after which Leira threw away the other chair from her arm. Two warriors had been skewered to one leg like a shish kebab, and there was no need to drag that extra weight.


    The hallway beyond the auditorium was less densely packed, and those that remained were diving out of the way, surely seeing the cloud of red mist in the wake of the deadly d¨¦cor.


    Cort held his hammer out like a jousting lance as his legs scurried desperately, a blur for their speed. He ran like a mouse that had overdosed on amphetamines. He was more jumping than running, every step propelling them some five meters.


    ¡°Arghhhh!¡± Cort screamed through clenched teeth as they reached a bend in the hallway. He leaned low to one side but failed to turn sharply enough.


    To his credit, Cort avoided splattering them against the wall. Instead, they were going to crash through a floor-to-ceiling-stained glass window. It depicted a robe-wearing warlock-sort wearing a skull helm.


    Cort¡¯s hammer head hit first, and the image shattered into a million pieces as they burst through the glass. Leira lost the third chair as its legs caught up on the frame of the window.


    Seeing no more warriors, she kicked away the last chair, too. Passing through the glass had seen them into another hall. It was lit not by torches, but a dim blue glow¡­ It took her a moment to register that as strange. Kaia lamps¡ªthey hadn¡¯t seen that anywhere else in this whole place.


    And the clanging sound of Cort¡¯s footsteps pounding against metal flooring. Everything else in the temple had been built from stone. And this was clean-cut, industrial style metal. The bladed clubs wielded by the warriors had been hand forged.


    They zipped past many doors and branching hallways. This place was a maze.


    Leira hovered her thumb over the emergency kill switch on the jetpack¡¯s control stick, wanting to put some more distance between them and the warriors. She grimaced upon realizing that she probably should¡¯ve pressed that button earlier. It had worked out well enough, but they¡¯d gotten lucky.


    Cort¡¯s huffing and puffing and wheezing made it sound like he was on death¡¯s door, so Leira relented and killed the thrusters.


    Cort stumbled for a few paces and then collapsed on his stomach, sliding a couple meters across the smooth metal floor.


    As Leira recovered herself, she raised her hand to smack Cort awake because it sounded like he was snoring. However, it was only that he was sucking down air in such a ravenous fashion that it sounded like snoring.


    Leira unstrapped herself from the jetpack and let it fall to the floor. She wiped herself off¡ªboth of them were covered in bloody bits and flecks.


    ¡°Where the hell are we?¡± Leira said, looking around.


    ¡°Uwuhakerp,¡± Cort sputtered.


    Leira cupped a hand to her ear to listen. There was a faint chatter echoing down the metal halls, but nothing that sounded like they were being pursued.


    Acting so dramatically you might¡¯ve thought he¡¯d been disemboweled, Cort crawled over to the wall and leaned back against it. His face was a bloody, swollen, purple mess, like a smashed grape. He spat out a mouthful of blood, then covered his mouth with his hand.


    ¡°Tartarus¡¯s¡­ piss¡­ in a¡­ teacup. I lost my front tooth.¡±


    Leira knelt beside him and pulled his hand away. Her eyes widened at the gaping black hole in the center of his bloody mouth. ¡°Teeth, actually. You lost both front teeth.¡±


    ¡°Fuck. Are you serious?¡±


    She nodded solemnly, without even a hint of a smile.


    ¡°Are we even¡­¡± Cort stopped to gasp for breath. ¡°What¡¯s with all the¡­¡± He trailed off and gestured at the sparse hallway.


    Leira shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ve got a better question. Why didn¡¯t the warriors follow us down here?¡±


    Cort spat out some more blood and grinned. ¡°Do I look stupid?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Leira said. ¡°Someone might think that beavers look stupid with their big front teeth. And you are like the antithesis of a beaver now, so¡­¡±


    Cort blinked at her.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mope. I¡¯ve seen they sell fake teeth with heaters in them so ice cream will melt in your mouth. Good plan, by the way. You saved our asses.¡±


    Cort raised his arm to point down the hall and then slumped over to that side. ¡°Why aren¡¯t they following us, though? We didn¡¯t go that far, did we?¡±


    Leira shrugged. ¡°My guess is this is a dead end, and they know we¡¯re trapped. Maybe they¡¯re biding their time, tending to their wounded. I can¡¯t imagine they¡¯re in a big rush to confront us. We just butchered a whole lot of them.¡±


    Cort wobbled as he stared at her with dull eyes, and not a hint of comprehension. She snapped her fingers in his face. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Cort said. ¡°I got bashed in the head a bigger number than I could count ever, even in school. Calculators.¡±


    Leira raised an eyebrow. ¡°Hey, listen¡ªthat lady Gwil found. Did you hear him saying she¡¯s creating all the storms?¡±


    ¡°Eh? What the fuck for?¡± Cort said, stretching out his jaw. At every movement, more blood oozed out of his cut-up face.


    ¡°Dunno. I didn¡¯t understand what Gwil was saying. Something like¡­ the crucifix lady, and all the people who live here, they think that they¡¯re the only humans left in the World.¡±


    ¡°Eh?¡±


    Leira took a few steps away to peer down the nearby turn in the hallway. ¡°Beats me. But I¡¯d bet this sketchy-ass lair has something to do with that nonsense. And I¡¯d be willing to bet a whole lot of doubloons that it¡¯s all the scheme of some deranged assholes.¡±


    Cort laughed, his tongue poking through the gap in his teeth. ¡°I¡¯m not stupid enough to take that bet.¡±


    ¡°Can you walk?¡± Leira asked, turning back to offer Cort her hand. She staggered under his weight as he pulled himself up.


    They set out down the Kaia-lit hallway. Sparse, featureless, perfectly uniform. The size and color of the panels, the arrangements of the rivets¡­ So familiar.


    ¡°This place is Leviathan make,¡± Leira said. ¡°Their military uses these prefabbed structures to set up temporary bases and the like. So¡­ let¡¯s watch out for that.¡±


    Some awareness returned to Cort¡¯s eyes. ¡°You think this is a Levi base?¡±


    Leira bit at her lip. ¡°No,¡± she said slowly. ¡°Not exactly. They¡¯d have no tolerance for these warriors. Something else is going on.¡±


    Cort hoisted his hammer. He¡¯d been dragging it on the floor behind him. ¡°Maybe the Leviathan abandoned this place. And these storm people set up shop here?¡±


    ¡°Something like that,¡± Leira said.


    The first door they came to was a bit more complex than the others they¡¯d passed. Leira pressed the red button beside it. With a hiss, the door unsealed, splitting down the middle to slide open. A puff of cold, visible air escaped.


    They went inside the hazy room. Leira could see her breath. The walls were white and bulbous and covered with frost. Glowing Kaia filaments ran along the edges.


    A giant refrigerator. Metal crates were stacked all throughout. They had displays on their fronts that blinked with little indicator lights.


    Leira smeared her finger through the frost that coated one of the crates. As she traced a smiley face, she said, ¡°So, the people here are isolationists, and they¡¯ve got all this stuff?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering about that too,¡± Cort said. ¡°Even ignoring this crazy shit down here, where are they getting all the wood and textiles that they¡¯re using? They live in a rocky wasteland. All those plants and the nice waterways, sure, they get plenty of rain. But the rest of it doesn¡¯t add up.¡±


    ¡°Break open one of the crates,¡± Leira said, hugging herself and clenching against her chattering teeth.


    Cort brought his hammer down on the edge of the crate and its lid popped open.


    The inside was packed full of frozen red meat, vacuum-sealed in frosty plastic packages.


    ¡°Mm,¡± Leira said, fiddling with her miniaturized ztuff tube necklace. ¡°Been a long time since I had beef.¡±


    Cort chuckled. ¡°Maybe we should come back later.¡±


    Leira took a couple steaks and slid them into her jacket¡¯s inside pocket, then they left the room to continue looking around.

 Chapter Fifty-Six – Cursed Blessings

    ¡°C¡¯mon, c¡¯mon, c¡¯mon,¡± Gwil said, gritting his teeth.


    ¡°We¡¯re too heavy!¡± Challe shouted.


    The little boat was struggling to climb a steep slope of the waterway. They¡¯d raced down to the bottom and started ascending with a ton of built-up speed, but their momentum was faltering, and they were far from the top.


    ¡°We¡¯re not going to make it, you mindless monster!¡± Challe cried.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    The boat stopped, held in place for a heartbeat, and then started sliding downward. With a pulse of Nirva, Gwil threw Challe up onto the dock above and then jumped himself. The force of his legs kicked the boat out of its channel and sent it plummeting down five levels to the ground floor of the atrium.


    Gwil landed on the ledge beside Challe. The woman covered her face with two hands and tugged at her braids with the other two.


    ¡°Goddess, it fills me with despair to learn that our great enemy does not possess even a single modicum of intelligence. Is this all a game to you? Stop having fun!¡±


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s ¡®cause I¡¯m not a demon,¡± Gwil said. He helped her to her feet, looked around, and then smiled. ¡°Aha! Don¡¯t even try to tell me this isn¡¯t the place.¡±


    The waterways had delivered them to a platform near the very top of the grand atrium. Some three stories overhead was the natural rock ceiling of this immense cavern, its surface riddled with jagged stalactites.


    Gwil and Challe stood before the threshold of a torch-lit passage lined with ornamental archways. At its end stood a temple that matched the style of the atrium. Gwil could only see its foot from where they stood¡ªa wide-based pyramid with stairs running up the face.


    ¡°Damn. Too bad Cort didn¡¯t just smash through right here. That¡¯s where Warren lives?¡±


    ¡°Warden.¡±


    ¡°Cool. Is he strong?¡±


    Challe¡¯s face darkened¡ªthough her eyes, and the jadestones in her arms, flickered with light¡ªas a nasty grin split her lips. ¡°He rules the last bastion of humanity, and he has done so for five centuries. I, and by extension the Jade Goddess herself, are servants to his cause. What do you think?¡±


    ¡°That he¡¯s a coward,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Hiding here from the World. Lying to all of you; filling you with fear. Someone strong wouldn¡¯t act so desperate.¡±


    Challe caught Gwil¡¯s arm as he started down the tunnel. ¡°Let¡¯s pretend that I believe you¡¯re not a demon, Gwil. Tell me¡­ Tell me of this thriving World that you claim exists? Is it a place of peace and plenty?¡±


    Gwil puffed up his cheeks and then exhaled, fluttering his lips. ¡°I don¡¯t know very much about the World either. Just like you, I lived my whole life trapped in one place. But, uh, from what I¡¯ve seen and heard, the World sucks. It¡¯s dangerous and shitty.¡±


    ¡°Then why-¡±


    ¡°Wait, I¡¯m not done. But after only like a week, I¡¯ve seen so many amazing things. I met friends right away. And even though we¡¯ve been dealing with messy shit the whole time, and I wouldn¡¯t trade it for anything.


    ¡°I met people who were enslaved and had their bodies poisoned, but they still took care of each other. And I met rocks that could walk and a man who breathed fire. And I saw a mountain vanish into thin air.


    ¡°That all makes me think maybe there¡¯s enough people in the World who want to help that things could get better.¡±


    Challe blinked twice. ¡°Here in Malikau, under cover of the Gracestorm, we are safe. We want for nothing. Our children get to learn and grow. What is it you think you¡¯re saving us from? What great evil do you think you¡¯ll be confronting if you challenge the Warden Tezca?¡±


    Gwil shrugged. ¡°Depends why he¡¯s lying to you all.¡±


    Challe sighed. ¡°I promised myself that I would not fall victim to your trickery. Your attempt to corrupt me, while fumbling, has been so unorthodox that I found myself drawn in. But Gwil, you speak of destroying my home. And you act as if you¡¯d be giving us a gift. There is cunning beneath your bald idiocy.¡±


    Gwil put his hands up. ¡°Woah, I don¡¯t wanna destroy anything. I love this place. It¡¯s awesome. Especially the waterslides. But you¡¯re prisoners and you don¡¯t even know it. Isn¡¯t it hard? And scary? To believe that you¡¯re all alone in the World.¡±


    Challe¡¯s jaw stiffened. ¡°It is our burden.¡±


    Gwil put his hand on her shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s not true. That¡¯s all I¡¯m trying to tell you.¡±


    ¡°You should leave,¡± Challe said. ¡°Please, just leave. Go find your friends and escape. We don¡¯t want your help.¡± She tugged at her braids and laughed. ¡°I feel like I¡¯ve been dunked in freezing water. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re a demon or not. I look at you and see a monster. I blink and see a benevolent young man. It doesn¡¯t matter what you are. This truth that you offer is more curse than blessing. A World full of dangers?¡± She shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re asking me to shatter the lives of my people. I will not do that.¡±


    Gwil scratched at his beard while looking into Challe¡¯s pleading eyes. ¡°No. Sorry. I know that I don¡¯t know anything about your people or what¡¯s going on here. But no. I won¡¯t allow you to make that decision by yourself. I won¡¯t leave until every single person in Milwauki knows that the World has not ended. Everyone needs to decide for themselves. I hope they all stay here and keep living safe and happy, but not if they¡¯re being choked by fear.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°Why? Why does it matter?¡± Challe shrieked as she shoved Gwil in the chest. His Nirva flashed, and he did not move an inch.


    Gwil thought about it. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just can¡¯t stand it. Your lives are being stolen.¡±


    Challe stared at him for a moment. "The Warden will kill you. He has defended us from the demons since the Apocalypse, and you intend to stroll into his abode.¡±


    ¡°Yup.¡±


    ¡°You will not even enter his temple. The Jaguar Council will butcher you before you knock on the door.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re just standing here,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Why don¡¯t they come right now?¡±


    Challe sneered. ¡°I suspect they¡¯ve just finished killing your friends.¡±


    Gwil pointed down the passage at the temple. ¡°Have you ever been inside?¡±


    She glanced at him. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a goddess or something and you¡¯ve never been in the house of your leader?¡± Gwil asked.


    Challe threw all her hands up. ¡°Oh, excuse me! See, I was never supposed to leave that crucifix, you idiot. I was there for twenty years, and I¡¯d have had a hundred more before I passed on.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Gwil laughed. ¡°I like you, Challe, but you¡¯re way too gullible. Nailed to a post, until you die¡­ That¡¯s not a life. That¡¯s not good enough. Not nearly good enough.¡±


    ***


    Quez, Sworn Guardian to Challe¡¯Jade and commander of the Malikauan warrior sect, squeezed the limp hand of his dying comrade. Blood gurgled from the man¡¯s mouth as he gagged and wheezed his final breaths.


    Unseeing eyes. Skin so pale, already a corpse. Why did the body continue to struggle? Why was the color of his blood so vivid?


    Quez glimpsed the writhing organs in the gaping gut wound. He squeezed his eyes shut, ground his teeth.


    If Quez had anything like courage or honor, he would¡¯ve already put this man out of his misery.


    That small mercy was the only thing that could be given. But Quez could not bring himself to do it, could not even raise his weapon. Too heavy, too numb. I¡¯m sorry. You must suffer because I am weak and foolish.


    Every single one of these deaths was his fault.


    Failure. Unworthy. Unforgiveable.


    The blood stopped gushing. Quez held the hand until it went cold. He did not know how much time passed. Too much, considering their dire circumstances.


    A realization washed over him, brutal and blatant. He did not have the heart for battle. Some warrior I am. Some Sworn Guardian.


    The dead man¡¯s name was Mok. Less than a year since he¡¯d earned his feathers. A kid.


    A hundred more just like him. Scattered all around the Stormwomb, ripped to pieces. Many of the faces were unrecognizable. Goddess, what a rotten fate.


    A jolt snapped through Quez¡¯s body, driving him to his feet. He stood so rigidly that it put a crick in his neck. His fists balled so tight that his finger bones ached.


    ¡°Dammit,¡± he whimpered through his clenched teeth. Butchered by furniture, of all things. A mockery. A nightmare.


    For Quez and all his warriors, this was their first taste of real battle. It had been over two centuries since the enemy last attacked Malikau.


    The taste was poisonous. Nothing like their wargames. All those years of training, worthless.


    Crushed faces swimming in a pool of blood. The death cries of their brothers and sisters hung in the air, choking the survivors.


    Nothing like their games.


    The Jaguars had observed Quez and his warriors and proclaimed them strong. Warden Tezca had personally placed the Guardian¡¯s headdress on Quez¡¯s head. Worthy of the Malikauans warriors of old, they¡¯d said.


    Just two demons had annihilated their force with ease. More than a quarter of their number, massacred by chairs. Quez had never imagined such cold, careless savagery. The demons shredded men and women in the playful manner that a cat kills a mouse.


    Demons.


    He¡¯d been hiding from that truth. It struck him dumb, like a club to the back of the head. Quez took off his ancestral headdress and hugged it to his chest.


    The demons are upon us. They are here. Inside our haven. And against them, we are weaker than children.


    Teary-eyed, Quez looked upward. Goddess. What can we do?


    ¡°Guardian!¡± called a voice from behind. The sound was grating in the way it pierced the ambient moaning of the dying.


    Quez turned. His response died in his too-dry throat. He was a moment in registering the woman who stood in front of him despite her green hair and his fondness for her. It was Lall, Speaker of the warrior sect, and his right hand.


    ¡°I completed my task,¡± she said.


    A lump formed in Quez¡¯s throat at the way Lall forced her voice to remain steady. He nodded, but he¡¯d forgotten what he¡¯d asked of her.


    Lall cleared her throat. ¡°Challe¡¯Jade has been taken by one of the demons. I assigned several wings to search the temple. We will find her.¡±


    Her eyes were so hard that Quez closed his, just for a heartbeat. Then he replaced his headdress on his head. He would not disgrace himself further. Not while Challe¡¯Jade still lived.


    ¡°Thank you, sister. And you assigned guards to all the exits?¡±


    ¡°You ordered the on-duty wings who were guarding the exits at the time of the invasion to remain at their posts, Guardian. They did not join this fight.¡±


    Quez blinked. ¡°Yes, of course. I forgot. Forgive me.¡±


    Lall smiled. ¡°I believe in you, Quez. I believe in the Goddess. This is a trial by fire. Hear the Gracestorm, brother! It still rages. Challe¡¯Jade is fighting.¡±


    Thunder boomed as if in answer to Lall¡¯s claim.


    Quez wiped away the tears that streaked his cheeks and felt terrible shame that he¡¯d allowed them to fall.


    ¡°What else, Speaker Lall?¡±


    ¡°I gathered as much information as I could. All reports indicate that there are three demons in total. It seems that they each wield unique magical powers. The one who stabbed you outside the Shrine of the Oubliette is the one who took Challe¡¯Jade.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Quez said. His hand went to the wound on his shoulder.


    Lall continued. ¡°Before the battle¡­¡±


    Battle? Is that what we should call this slaughter?


    ¡°¡­I sent a runner to the Elder Warden. He has returned with a message. The Warden and the Jaguars are entering the Oubliette to investigate the breach. Despite the runner¡¯s pleas, they refused to allow an accompanying force. The Warden offers us these words as guidance: Keep faith, my brave warriors. The Goddess loves Malikau.¡±


    Quez¡¯s cheeks flushed hot. ¡°Will they not-¡± He stopped himself.


    Five hundred years ago, Warden Tezca and his five Jaguars fought off untold hordes of demons during the Apocalypse in defense of their village, Malikau. It was said that they warred for nine hundred and ninety-nine days and nine hundred and ninety-nine nights, and on the thousandth day, at dawn, the demons fled.


    Tezca and the Jaguars and the Malikauans celebrated their victory. And then the Jade Goddess descended and knelt before them. She put an end to their revelry with a brutal truth. Humanity had perished from the World. Only the village had survived.


    In penance, the Goddess declared she would offer them sanctuary and protect the people of Malikau for as long as she could. She granted Tezca and the Jaguars immortality in recognition for their miraculous feat.


    If those legendary warriors had been here, how many men and women would have been saved? They could have killed three demons with ease. Where were they?


    Quez swallowed against the bitter taste in his mouth. It was not his place to question the Warden and his Jaguars. Every single Malikauan owed them their lives. Blasphemer, he scolded himself. But¡­


    ¡°How will they enter the Oubliette?¡± he asked Lall. ¡°The trap blocked the hidden entrance.¡±


    Lall shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Guardian.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± Quez straightened his posture. ¡°I will join the search for Challe¡¯Jade. Scouts were sent after the two demons who fled from here?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Lall said. ¡°They did not engage. But they stopped pursuing.¡±


    Quez tilted his head.


    ¡°They found something. Something you need to see, brother.¡±

 Chapter Fifty-Seven – Anything but Lobster Bisque

    ¡°Rrraaiinnn,¡± Leira sang. ¡°It¡¯s always raining in the¡­ Stormlands.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s wild that we can hear the storm all the way down here,¡± Cort said as they descended a ramp. ¡°Alright. We¡¯re going in circles.¡±


    They¡¯d been wandering these eerie metal halls for some time, and the place had not proven as scandalous as Leira had expected. It truly appeared to be nothing more than a big storage area.


    They¡¯d checked a couple dozen rooms, spread over two different levels. Most were filled with food, an amazing variety of food, really, including some exotic delicacies that Leira had never seen before. And that was saying something, since she was a princess with a refined palate. So far, she¡¯d respected Cort¡¯s request that they not stop to eat, except for the trays of sushi they¡¯d snacked on while walking.


    A few other rooms held building materials, medical supplies, and other mundane things. Nothing too alarming. Most surprising? No weapons.


    The place was suspiciously large though, especially considering the circumstances of these Stormlands. Leira didn¡¯t exactly agree with Cort¡¯s claim that they were going in circles. Rather this place was just a maze.


    She felt sure that no one was pursuing them¡ªthose warriors were always shouting and banging on their shields, and these halls were as silent as the grave. She didn¡¯t know what to make of that.


    Instinct (and logic) told her to expect something worse ahead, but no point worrying until something actually happened.


    There were definite signs of activity, though. Most of the storage closets had missing goods. They¡¯d found a few dollies and such, placed in ways that suggested recent usage. The biggest clue was the inventory sheets they¡¯d come across¡ªpristine white pages with no sign of age.


    ¡°Maybe the Stormfolks just found this place and decided they hit the jackpot. They¡¯re just living large on all this free stuff.¡±


    Leira fiddled with her eyeflower. She¡¯d thought that too, until¡­ ¡°Some of this stuff is new, though. I recognized that brand of milk. I used to buy it at the grocery store. And why aren¡¯t they coming after us?¡±


    As they approached another T-shaped intersection, Cort flipped a doubloon¡ªheads was right, tails was left.


    ¡°Right,¡± he said.


    Reaching the intersection, they both stopped in their tracks and gasped. In her shock, Leira accidentally released a puff of white spores from her eyeflower.


    ¡°Fuck the coin,¡± Cort said, flicking it away over his shoulder.


    To the right, more bare metal hallway, lined with boring closets. To the left, a massive chamber with a gigantic machine in the center.


    Leira clapped her hands together. ¡°Now we¡¯re talking.¡±


    ***


    Quez chewed a twist of tobacco¡ªhe¡¯d been chaining them nonstop¡ªas he stared down at the shards of green glass scattered around his feet. Lall stood beside him, rocking back and forth on her heels, the way she always did when she was nervous.


    As Sworn Guardian, Quez had been made privy to all of Malikau¡¯s secrets.


    Or so he¡¯d thought. This didn¡¯t make any sense.


    He raised his eyes to again regard the blue-lit hallway, the entry framed by jagged fragments of shattered glass. The hall went further than his eye could see. The air within felt cold. Goosebumps pimpled Quez¡¯s skin.


    Strange, perfect metal, as smooth as glass. Unnatural light. A discordant humming sound, barely audible.


    Quez licked his lips, aware that he¡¯d been silent for too long. His warriors surrounded him, their stilted breaths betraying their anxiety.


    ¡°Has anyone entered?¡± Quez asked.


    ¡°No, Guardian,¡± said Atla, one of the wing leaders. ¡°I forbade entry. This passage was protected by an image of the Elder Warden.¡±


    Of course, Quez thought. He knew that. He himself had uttered many prayers to this very icon whilst on duty when he was still green.


    It would¡¯ve been wise to hide his shock at this sight, but he¡¯d already failed to do so.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­¡± Alta continued.


    Quez turned to face the wing leader. ¡°Easy, Atla. You acted with wisdom.¡±


    ¡°I allowed demons to enter a sanctuary of the Warden,¡± Atla said bitterly.


    ¡°We all allowed that.¡± Quez bit off the end of the twist and chewed it. ¡°You did well. This is a time for caution.¡±


    Quez had led them to their deaths. The thought of his warriors sharing in his guilt sickened him. But he had to feign strength. And keep faith in Warden Tezca.


    ¡°What are your orders?¡± Lall said, trying to prompt Quez to action and spare him from further shame.


    ¡°The Warden and the Jaguars are occupied,¡± Quez announced. ¡°They are tending to the suspected breach in the Oubliette. That work is most crucial, or we may have a horde in our midst.¡±


    A collective shiver stole through the battered warriors. If just two demons were capable of all this¡­The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Quez turned away from the glowing hallway to face them. Wide-eyed, ghost white faces stared back. Many were covered in the blood of their brothers and sisters. Some nursed wounds.


    Lall covertly squeezed Quez¡¯s hand.


    He took a deep breath and made his decision as he started speaking. ¡°But we cannot ignore the possibility that the demons sought this hidden sanctuary with intent. This may well be a secret that the Warden protects. We must enter.


    ¡°I will lead a small team into this passage. Atla, you and two of your warriors will accompany myself and Lall. Choose your two fastest runners.¡±


    ¡°Guardian, you should not risk your-,¡± Atla said.


    Quez cut in. ¡°No. Your two fastest. Thank you. I will not feed more souls to these voracious demons. We will track our enemies and discover the nature of this secret place.¡± Quez breathed deep but faltered into a sigh. ¡°Defend yourselves and treat the wounded until we return. I swear on the Goddess I will send word.¡±


    Atla chose her two warriors. Five in all. That felt right. The sacred number of the Jaguar.


    The five of them crossed the threshold, entering the cold embrace of the strange blue light.


    ***


    To Cort, the machine resembled an enormous lightbulb. The elongated glass dome was three stories tall and thirty meters wide. It spanned the round chamber, leaving space only for a walkway that circled the perimeter.


    The dome¡¯s shape was elliptical, almost like an ear of corn cut in half longways. Within the glass, at the right-side end, was a round metal platform, its surface traced by a complex pattern of circuitry. From that platform, running the length of the dome, was a big cylindrical pipe with a diameter of five meters.


    The thing looked absurdly complicated. Most of the pipe was covered over by a ridged black material¡ªsome type of shielding. But in some sections, the innards were exposed¡ªperhaps for ventilation¡ªrevealing a mess of conduits, filaments, and wires. There was a load of different metals¡ªgold, silver, copper¡ªall cobbled together into bizarre shapes. Lights blinked within, but the mechanisms were still, and there was something disconcerting about that.


    The pipe disappeared into the other end of the dome. The glass there, in the leftmost third, was completely covered by the black shielding material.


    ¡°Ooo!¡± Leira squealed, skipping ahead. ¡°These are rare!¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± Cort asked, readying his hammer and scanning the room as he followed her.


    ¡°A teleporter,¡± Leira said. She made for the large computer terminal stationed near the midpoint of the dome.


    Cort¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Really? I¡¯ve heard of those. Never thought I¡¯d see one.¡±


    Leira grinned at him over her shoulder. ¡°Betcha don¡¯t know about this kind. These big ones are rare-rare. They¡¯re special because they can teleport living things without killing them. Even people.¡±


    ¡°Eh? Yeah, definitely never heard of that.¡±


    The computer was active. There were six monitors, and below them a control panel with about a thousand buttons. The screens displayed inscrutable data and graphics. Huge cables ran from the terminal, through ports in the dome, into a connector inside the teleporter that was the size of a house.


    Next to the terminal, a metal door was embedded in the side of the dome. A glass tunnel ran from it, through the inside of the dome, connecting via hatch to the base of the platform.


    ¡°Even this crazy thing, and they¡¯re still not guarding it,¡± Cort said as he set down all their packs. He rolled his shoulders out. When he looked up, Leira was pressing buttons on the computer.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Cort hissed, sputtering because of his missing teeth. ¡°Don¡¯t touch that!¡±


    ¡°Relax, I know how the normal ones work. They¡¯re quite simple on the user¡¯s end. This one doesn¡¯t seem too different.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you should use it. What are you even trying to do? And why do you know so much about Leviathan shit?¡±


    Leira looked back at him. ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious, Cortemius? I was a princess.¡±


    Cort¡¯s breath caught. That wasn¡¯t a huge leap. He¡¯d assumed something like that after what Gwil had told him, but still, he didn¡¯t know what to say. That centipede bitch¡ª ¡°Is she your mom?¡± he blurted.


    ¡°No. Not biologically.¡± Leira waved him over. ¡°Look, I¡¯m not doing anything crazy. But we wanna see what¡¯s going on here, don¡¯t we?¡± She pointed at one of the monitors.


    The screen was black and displayed a single line of white text that read: Hey, can you send over some lobster bisque?


    ¡°Wait,¡± Cort said. ¡°Did you already send it? Don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s suspicious. Lobster is the one thing we know they have naturally here. Ask for something else. Anything else. Something less stupid.¡±


    ¡°Ahh,¡± Leira said, wagging her finger at him. ¡°Good call. Damn. Anesidyra tried for ages to get an organismal-grade teleporter, and even she couldn¡¯t get her hands on one. Why the fuck have they got one here?¡±


    ¡°Beats me,¡± Cort said. ¡°But let¡¯s consider our options before we mess with it. Aren¡¯t you worried about drawing the Leviathan here? That Queen is hunting you, isn¡¯t she?¡±


    Leira got in his face, the petals of her eyeflower swirling like a kaleidoscope. ¡°We need to find out why Gwil got a spike stuck through his heart. I¡¯ll do whatever it takes. But do you think I¡¯m some kind of idiot? We¡¯re gonna use it, find out what we can, and then destroy it right away.¡± She grinned. ¡°Teleporters are fragile.¡±


    ¡°Alright, yeah,¡± Cort said. ¡°But ask for something more important than food.¡±


    Leira¡¯s face fell into a scowl. ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°I dunno,¡± Cort said. ¡°Medicine?¡±


    ¡°Uhh, alright,¡± Leira said. Cort saw a smirk form on her lips as she typed on the keyboard.


    New text appeared on the monitor: Hello. This is an emergency. I have contracted syphilis. Please send penicillin ASAP (as soon as possible).


    Leira finished typing and looked up at him.


    Cort shrugged. ¡°Seems good.¡±


    Leira sent the message. The cursor blinked on the screen as they waited.


    Cort tongued at the unfamiliar gap in his teeth. ¡°Hey, is this tech how warpships work?¡±


    ¡°No. There¡¯s some connection, I¡¯m sure. But these are a lot safer. The warpships rip open the fabric of reality or some shit. But they can go anywhere. This is just a two-way bridge. Also, warpship travel sucks up like a billion doubloons worth of Kaia every time. Teleporters are practically free in comparison.¡±


    The computer terminal beeped. A new message appeared: Communication from the Malikauan end of this bridge is prohibited. King Yuma has been alerted.


    Leira clicked her tongue. Her fingers flurried across the keyboard as she typed four words: Eat my shit, asshole.


    ¡°Wait, don¡¯t!¡± Cort shouted. He grabbed her wrist. Too late.


    ¡°Aww, fuck me!¡± Leira spat. ¡°Sorry. That passive-aggressive tone pissed me off. I always construe text in the worst possible way. It¡¯s something I need to work on, but-¡±


    ¡°Leira, shut up,¡± Cort said. ¡°What do we do?¡±


    As Leira opened her mouth to answer, they heard something.


    The soft footsteps of someone¡ªsomeones¡ªsneaking, coming down the metal hallway.


    Cort loaded himself up with all their stuff and then ran to the entrance of the chamber where he found himself nearly face-to-face with five warriors.


    As soon as they saw each other, two of the warriors turned and sprinted in the opposite direction.


    The man at the center held his arms out in front of the two women beside him. Cort recognized this jobber from earlier. He wore a big, obnoxious eagle headdress.


    Cort pointed at them. ¡°Take one more step and I¡¯ll kill all of you.¡±


    ¡°Cort!¡± Leira screamed. ¡°The teleporter!¡±


    He whipped around.


    The machine had come alive. The mechanisms within the pipe whirled at such speed that the whole thing was a blur. Crackling bolts of Kaia flickered across the shielding.


    Cort had a hard time reckoning with the silence. Logically, he knew the dome just had good soundproofing. But it was disturbing to witness such an obvious eruption of power while hearing nothing.


    The web of circuitry on the platform glowed blinding bright.


    For an instant, the room went utterly black, and something rippled through the air.


    When the light returned, ten Leviathan soldiers stood on the platform.

 Chapter Fifty-Eight – Popcorn, Au Naturale

    The Elder Warden¡¯s temple was hewn from limestone. Its shape was that of a wide-based triangular prism, but with the peak cut off, leaving a flat platform.


    It stood three stories tall, nearly reaching the cavern¡¯s ceiling, which Gwil realized was probably the actual ground, the surface. Arched entryways stood at each end of the temple¡¯s base. A steep staircase ran up the center of the front face, lined by an array of torches.


    At the top, a gnarled black shrine spanned the width of the flat. Carved from jagged, glassy black stone veined with green, that structure had the squat shape of a fancy tomb¡¯s entrance. The wild spines of rock made it look ablaze with frozen black fire. The smokey essence trapped within the black glass created an illusion of movement.


    As Gwil regarded the temple, he was surprised to see Challe march past him. She was making for the entrance on the temple¡¯s left side.


    ¡°Nuh-uh, Challe,¡± Gwil said, catching up to her. ¡°We¡¯re going straight to the top.¡±


    ¡°That would not be wise of you,¡± she said.


    ¡°How would you know? You¡¯ve never been here either.¡±


    ¡°I assume Warden Tezca resides at the top, and he will murder you. I am trying to give you a chance to survive. If you meet a Jaguar first, you might realize your folly and flee.¡±


    ¡°Aw, thanks,¡± Gwil said. He took her by one of her extra wrists and led her toward the staircase.


    ¡°And you called me stubborn?¡± Challe exclaimed as Gwil put his foot on the first step. ¡°You will die. The Elder Warden is over five hundred years old. He and the Jaguars stood alone against all the might of the Apocalypse for nine hundred and ninety-nine days. The Goddess knelt before him!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care what happened a long time¡ªhey!¡± Gwil stopped in the middle of the stairs and scratched the top of his head. ¡°The Apocalypse was nine hundred years ago, not five hundred.¡±


    ¡°No. It wasn¡¯t,¡± Challe said.


    Gwil caught the quiver in her voice. He said nothing, because his inclination was to laugh, and he didn¡¯t want to make Challe feel bad. This wasn¡¯t her fault.


    ¡°I¡¯m willing to talk to Warren. If he has a really good reason for all this, maybe that¡¯d be okay. Or if he agrees to tell everyone the truth. That¡¯d work, too.¡±


    ¡°And you called me gullible,¡± Challe muttered.


    ¡°Who built this?¡± Gwil asked, stomping his foot on the pristine stone step as they continued upward.


    ¡°The Jade Goddess,¡± Challe said. ¡°She birthed this entire sanctuary as a gift to the Malikauans who survived the Apocalypse, and as penance for her failure to forfend the demons. That act of creation was also a sacrifice that left her petrified, and only capable of acting through her Vessels.¡±


    Gwil gaped. ¡°Woah. How big was she?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°She pushed this entire place out of her¡ª¡±


    ¡°No! It¡¯s metaphorical. Her effigy stood beside my crucifix. That¡¯s her true form.¡±


    They reached the top. Gwil eyed the double doors that were cut into wall of the twisted black shrine. They were painted with the swirling pattern that the warriors wore as body paint.


    Challe grabbed Gwil by the wrists and put her other hands on his shoulders. Burning Nirva seeped from her fingertips.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t do this. I will lead you to the exit. I will even go with you. Show me whatever it is you wish to show me.¡±


    Gwil twisted out of her grip and made for the door. ¡°What is that smell?¡±


    A sharp crack of thunder rang out as he pressed his hands against the stone doors. He meant to see how hard it¡¯d be to bust them down, but they swung open easily at his touch.


    The inside was dimly lit by scattered candles. The entrance was in the middle, so the interior extended in both directions. Gwil stuck his head inside and sniffed at the air. It smelled good. Incense? Or maybe¡ª


    Challe screamed bloody murder.


    Gwil whipped around and hurried over to her. ¡°What happened?¡±


    Challe cleared her throat and smoothed out her robe. ¡°Nothing, sorry. I just could not help but voice my immense terror and shame and disgust and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem like anyone¡¯s home,¡± Gwil said, looking back at the entrance. ¡°This guy thinks demons are invading, and he doesn¡¯t even lock his door?¡±


    ¡°You told me you would be satisfied if I accompanied you outside the sanctuary? What happened to that? You lied to me.¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Maybe I would¡¯ve,¡± Gwil said. He scratched at the scar on his chest. ¡°But we¡¯re in too deep for that now. You don¡¯t have to come in if it makes you uncomfortable.¡± Gwil moved to the doorway and his nose perked up.


    Challe scoffed. ¡°Better to disgrace myself than give a demon free rein of the Warden¡¯s abode.¡±


    They entered. A golden candelabra burned at the center of the dining table. Considering there was only one chair, it was a big table. At that seat was a placemat and a large bowl. Gwil¡¯s nose led him to it.


    ¡°Ooh, wow! Popcorn!¡± He took a handful of the fluffy snack and stuffed it into his mouth.


    ¡°What is that?¡± Challe said, peeking over Gwil¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Why are you eating it? I suspect it¡¯s one of Warden Tezca¡¯s mystical ingredients. It might be poison!¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gwil said, spraying flecks from his mouth. ¡°Nah, just popcorn. With butter! Try some, it''s good!¡±


    While Challe leaned over the bowl, examining the popcorn with narrowed eyes, Gwil checked his pockets. He found only his fork. Damn. He didn¡¯t have any ztuff with him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you know what corn is?¡± Gwil said. ¡°There¡¯s a way to fry the kernels and they¡¯ll explode into this stuff. I tried to do it a bunch of times, but it never worked. There must be some magic to it, I think.¡±


    ¡°Corn?¡± Challe said, tilting her head.


    As he looked around, Gwil realized that they stood within an ordinary kitchen. He threw open the curtains that hung between some cabinets, revealing a pantry. The shelves were packed with foodstuffs, neatly organized and labeled. There was a lumpy canvas bag stuffed with ears of corn.


    He took one and turned it over in his hands. He¡¯d never seen corn like this. It seemed shitty and inedible. The dark yellow kernels were rock hard, and the husk was white and flimsy as opposed to sturdy and green.


    Gwil had only eaten popcorn once before, when a traveling merchant passed through, and it had come in a balloon-like paper bag.


    It all clicked. Gwil¡¯s repeated failures to recreate the popping corn¡­ these kernels explained everything.


    He looked at the label beneath the bag of corn. It read: Zea mays everta. Gwil gasped. A magical incantation.


    ¡°Goddess!¡± Challe said as she snatched it out of Gwil¡¯s hands. Her face lit up like Gwil had never seen before. ¡°What is this? It¡¯s like a giant piece of grain filled with smaller grains!¡±


    Gwil continued rifling through the pantry as Challe marveled. He handed her a jar of peanut butter and then a chocolate bar. ¡°You had apples and stuff. I wonder why he wouldn¡¯t give you corn. The chocolate I kinda get, but¡­¡±


    When Challe did not answer, Gwil turned around to find her slumped over the table, quietly whimpering.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    Attempting to speak sent her into full-blown sobs. ¡°This is the most wonderful thing I¡¯ve ever tasted.¡± She heaved for breath. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s ¡®cause I haven¡¯t eaten in twenty years but-but-but¡­ wahhh!¡±


    Gwil patted her on the back and then burst out laughing upon seeing what had sent her into this episode. She¡¯d shaved off the tiniest sliver from the corner of the chocolate bar.


    He broke off a proper piece and stuck it into her mouth which was wide-open as she wailed. The anguish evaporated from Challe¡¯s face as she chewed.


    ¡°My friend Leira will want to slit the Warden¡¯s throat when she finds out you didn¡¯t eat for twenty years.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Goddess! You bastard demon!¡± Challe fell sideways out of her chair. ¡°I¡¯m eating Warden Tezca¡¯s food like some sort of wild animal.¡± She lunged at Gwil and wrapped her arms around his legs. ¡°You¡¯ve enchanted me. Release me from your magic¡ªthis violates our agreement!¡±


    ¡°Yeesh,¡± Gwil said, palming his forehead. ¡°You¡¯re way more clueless about the World than I ever was. That really sucks.¡±


    He returned to the pantry, hoping to find another interesting food that might stop Challe from crying. Then he spotted the stove. The heating coils were tinged blue and faintly glowing, just like their stove from Jayson. Kaia. Gwil thought they didn¡¯t have any of that stuff in Malikau. But this asshole had it for himself.


    ¡°We could make some popcorn of our own with this,¡± Gwil said.


    Challe had her face buried beneath two layers of fingers.


    Gwil moved to stand beside her, intending to scoop her up so they could get on with it. Then, he noticed something very soft beneath his feet.


    He looked down and saw that the rug was actually a jaguar skin with the legs, the tail, the head all intact. Gwil bent down to regard the big cat¡¯s face. Its jaws were stuck open, fangs bared.


    ¡°What¡¯d you think of these stuffed animal decorations?¡± Gwil asked Challe. ¡°I think they¡¯re weird.¡±


    ¡°The¡­ the¡­¡± Challe gasped between every word. ¡°Not weird. The jaguar¡­ is the sacred symbol¡­ of our survival.¡±


    ¡°And look¡ªthis guy walks all over it. He should¡¯ve shared his chocolate with you. He¡¯s hiding. I¡¯m gonna find him and kick his ass.¡±


    Gwil saw Challe scream the word ¡®No¡¯, but an ear-splitting crack drowned her voice.


    He was blinded. A radiant flash of green-white swallowed everything.


    His body had gone numb and rigid. He toppled backward, stiff as a board as he hit the floor. Gwil could see his hands, raised in front of his face. They¡¯d been charred black. He couldn¡¯t move anything except his eyes.


    Challe appeared above him, her face so distorted it looked like she was melting. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± she wailed. ¡°But you ruined my life! It wasn¡¯t me; it was the Goddess!¡± Challe fell to her knees. ¡°She punished you of her own volition, I swear!¡±


    Gwil¡¯s Nirva burned, and with it, sensation prickled back to life in his extremities. The first bit of movement he managed was to wrinkle his nose at the stench of his burnt hair.


    He focused his Nirva within and then spread it through his body. His arms softened, and he forced them to bend. The flesh cracked wetly, like rotten wood, and pink lines broke through burnt skin.


    ¡°¡®M fine,¡± he wheezed.


    ¡°You¡¯re alive!¡± Challe squealed, grinning. ¡°The Goddess spared you.¡±


    With some help from Challe, Gwil sat up. Every movement came with more squelchy cracking sounds.


    He tried to speak, but gagged, and realized that he hadn¡¯t been breathing properly all this time. He tried to clear his throat¡ªsomething big was lodged in there.


    Gwil retched and gagged and heaved. He went on all fours. Challe got the hint and started slapping him on the back.


    Eventually, he hacked up a pink glob of flesh. It splattered on the ground. Gwil prodded at it with his finger. It felt spongy. A piece of his lung, he guessed.


    Gwil drew a deep, satisfying breath. ¡°It wasn¡¯t the goddess, Challe. I told you¡ªwe can¡¯t be hurt. We can regrow limbs and stuff.¡±


    He chipped off a few pieces of burnt skin, which was oddly satisfying. Then he ruffled up his hair, breaking apart the burnt strands. There was a decent amount left. Something still stunk, though¡­


    ¡°Shit!¡±


    The jaguar rug was engulfed in flames. Challe knelt unmoving beside the fire, seemingly catatonic. Gwil picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. ¡°Dammit, Challe. We didn¡¯t even get to look around yet. Cool power, though!¡±


    He made for the door. No big deal. Warren would get the message.


    ¡°Whoever disturbed my nap deserves a slap.¡± A high-pitched, rhythmic voice. ¡°Beware, beware. Who goes there?¡±


    ¡°Ixik?¡± Gwil shouted.


    Gwil tossed Challe out through the doorway and ran toward the familiar voice.

 Chapter Fifty-Nine – Free, Thanks to You

    ¡°No, not Ixik, you nitwit!¡± the axolotl said.


    The creature looked just like the others Gwil knew¡ªpink, semi-translucent flesh, short thick limbs, a wavering, fin-like tail, and a wide, dopey face stuck smiling. There was one difference, though: this axolotl had four arms.


    Gwil found the creature two rooms down from the kitchen, trapped in a glass box.


    The inside of this shrine or whatever was filling with smoke, and the fire was in full bloom in the kitchen, where there was plenty of wood. The flames were flirting with the threshold of the next room.


    ¡°I¡¯m Gwil. This fire will kill!¡±


    The axolotl stared at Gwil with its unblinking, beady eyes. It sat slumped in the corner of the box. A layer of damp, dark soil covered the floor of the creature¡¯s prison. Clumps of watergrass sprouted throughout, and a puddle filled the corner opposite where the axolotl sat.


    ¡°I¡¯m Luca,¡± it said. ¡°Don¡¯t belong here, do ya?¡±


    Gwil drew his fist back and smashed through the glass. Nirva exploded at the impact. The glass did not so much shatter as splinter into dust. It crumbled like falling snow.


    Luca jumped up onto its hind legs and waddled out. ¡°Butterfly child! You are wild! Thank you, thank you, I foresee a grand view!¡±


    ¡°Sure thing,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But we should be hurrying. This place is burning.¡± He knelt to pick up the axolotl so that they could escape the shrine, but Luca scurried out of the way.


    ¡°Your brain is thin if you think I¡¯ll commit that sin. Fire is bad for my skin! On top of that, free my friend from that trap.¡± The axolotl pointed to the other side of the room with its stumpy arm.


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil yelled. He ran up to another glass tank that stood opposite Luca¡¯s, this one full of water. From within, eighteen eyes stared at him.


    A speckled purple octopus, spliced-up like crazy. Each of its eight tentacles was a snake, with eyes and mouths, and maybe even their own minds, based on the way the octopus was being yanked back and forth.


    This tank had a lid, so Gwil popped it open instead of smashing the glass. The chance at freedom spurred cooperation in the snakes. Gwil reached into the tank, and several snakes eagerly coiled around his arm, their suction cups squelching.


    He lifted the snaketopus out of the water, and the bizarre creature schloop-schlurped its way onto Gwil¡¯s back, situating its main body on top of his shoulder. A couple snakes slapped Gwil in the face as they probed all around him, their tongues flickering. Gwil had to push them out of his way as if he were wading through tall grasses.


    Luca stood wringing both pairs of hands, staring into the burgeoning wall of flames.


    ¡°What¡¯s the deal?¡± Gwil asked. ¡°Anything else to steal?¡± He squinted against the smoke, looking down through the rest of the Warden¡¯s abode. The next room was a library, and past that¡­ another kitchen?


    The axolotl shook its big dumb head and then clung to Gwil¡¯s leg as a ceiling beam collapsed, spitting sparks.


    Gwil went to a bare stretch of wall and used Mir while touching it with his hand. Too thick.


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to deal with the hot,¡± Gwil told Luca, as he took the creature in his arms. ¡°Can¡¯t punch through rock.¡±


    Anger warped Luca¡¯s face into something monstrous. ¡°Choke on a garrote,¡± Luca sang. ¡°I¡¯ll turn you into a prokaryote.¡±


    A flatulent sound reverberated beside Gwil¡¯s ear, and when he felt something warm and wet, he feared the worst.


    Sludgy black ink was gushing out of the snaketopus¡¯s underside. Some sprayed Gwil, but Luca was being fully showered.


    The axolotl sputtered, its big mouth flapping. ¡°What is this, a shart? Ahhh! Smart, friend, smart!¡±


    Luca began slathering its entire body with ink. ¡°Acceptable. Head for the vestibule.¡±


    Gwil flared his Nirva and ran into the flames, hunching to shield Luca and the snaketopus with his body.


    He spotted the jar of peanut butter on the ground¡ªit had landed on the ashy cushion that was the burnt jaguar rug. Gwil scooped it up and skipped out the door.


    Challe was laying face down on the ground. Gwil¡¯s hands were full¡ªshe was so lucky to have four!¡ªso he shoved her along with his foot and rolled her away from the shrine. The fire raged inside, but it didn¡¯t seem like it would do much damage to the stone exterior.


    ¡°Thank the Goddess you¡¯re alive!¡± Challe said. ¡°I need you to execute me. Please!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a house,¡± Gwil said.


    Luca climbed out of Gwil¡¯s arms and began cleaning himself off, splattering the ground with ink. Gwil tried to put the snaketopus down too, but the thing clung on tight via three coiled snakes.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Stop that, long rat,¡± he said to the one that was coiled around his neck. The offending snake untwisted itself.


    A glob landed on the back of Challe¡¯s head, and she looked up at the axolotl. Her eyes, and the jadestones embedded in her flesh, began to shine.


    Moving unnaturally, she went on her knees and bowed her head. ¡°P-Progenitor? How? No, no, no. No!¡±


    Gwil exchanged a confused look with one of the snakes.


    ¡°Wow babe, it¡¯s Challe¡¯Jade,¡± Luca said, dancing with his four arms. ¡°First Sacrifice. That¡¯s nice.¡± He patted Challe on the head. ¡°I have a date with escape. Give Yuma a booma from old Luca. Ta-ta.¡±


    With that, the axolotl went down on all fours and scurried toward the edge of the platform. The creature leapt across the gap and clung to the cavern wall that surrounded the temple. It crawled up the rocky face and disappeared into a fissure.


    Gwil laughed.


    Challe crumpled into the fetal position, and the rumbling thunder sounded as if to accompany her movements. Gwil sighed. He was getting tired of her freaking out about everything. He probably shouldn¡¯t have brought her to the temple, but he hadn¡¯t expected it to get burnt down.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Gwil said. He knelt beside her. ¡°You need to get it together, lady. What happened to defending your people from demons? I thought you¡¯re supposed to be a goddess. What are you crying for?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve ruined everything, you fool!¡± she shrieked, her face smushed against the stone platform. ¡°Please, just kill me. I will never forgive myself for this.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°I called lightning down from the sky. It must have destroyed the cavern. Our sanctuary is going to be annihilated by the Gracestorm.¡±


    Gwil batted a couple snakes out of his way and looked up at the cavern ceiling. He shook his head and then rolled Challe onto her back and pointed upward. ¡°Look. You didn¡¯t. That lightning didn¡¯t come from the sky, Challe¡ªit came from you!¡±


    Challe knuckled her eyes and smacked her cheeks, regarding the intact cavern with awe.


    ¡°See? Everything is fine. Just calm down. Here, I brought you this.¡± He held out the jar of peanut butter.


    A beleaguered smile formed on her teary, mucous-smeared face. Her laughter sounded like hiccups. She tried to take the jar, but the scalding heat had melded it to Gwil¡¯s skin.


    ¡°Ha!¡± He peeled it off, leaving his palm skinless and bloody. He scraped some charred flesh off the jar and handed it to her again.


    Gwil showed Challe his hand as new skin grew out of the wound. ¡°Being Hallowed is cool, trust me.¡±


    Challe took the jar and hugged it to her chest.


    Smoke still poured out of the shrine, but the blazing light inside was dwindling, indicating that the fire was dying out.


    Gwil shrugged. At least the whole temple wasn¡¯t going to burn down. He didn¡¯t know if Challe could handle that. He sat down next to her, unpeeled the snaketopus from his shoulder, and set it down on the ground.


    It looked like the creature wanted to walk around, but it was stuck in place, because it was pulling itself in eight different directions.


    ¡°What was that creature?¡± Challe said. ¡°A blasphemous abomination.¡±


    ¡°Challe!¡± Gwil hissed. ¡°I know it doesn¡¯t look like it has ears, but it¡¯s sitting right here.¡±


    ¡°The Progenitor,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard that word before.¡±


    ¡°The Progenitor,¡± she said. ¡°The¡­¡± She shook her head and cringed. ¡°Pink, frog-like creature.¡±


    ¡°Oh! The axolotl. Hey, you talked to it without rhyming! How?¡±


    Challe shook her head. ¡°Where did you find it?¡±


    ¡°Your asshole master had it locked in a box like a prisoner,¡± Gwil said, nodding toward the shrine. ¡°Even though axolotls are probably smarter than humans.¡±


    ¡°What? Liar!¡± Her face twisted, and Gwil thought it looked more like fury than the usual despair.


    ¡°Yuh-huh,¡± he said. ¡°Saddest thing I¡¯ve ever seen. Poor thing was in a little box with some grass and a puddle, sitting like a beggar.¡±


    ¡°You swear? You swear on your life?¡± Challe shoved Gwil over onto his back and then loomed over him. ¡°Swear to me, demon!¡±


    ¡°I swear, I swear,¡± Gwil said, moving out from under her.


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. The Progenitor died. It must be an experiment or something. The Warden trying to create a miracle.¡±


    ¡°That progenitor is free now, thanks to you,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But the axolotls are just funny little guys. Why¡¯re you so worked up about it?¡±


    Challe clamped all four of her hands over her mouth. Gwil worried she was going to vomit. But when she took her hands away, her teeth were bared, and she was shaking with anger.


    ¡°The Progenitor is a creature of myth. From the dawn of Malikau. Luca imbued the surviving populace with the potential to handle Vesselhood.


    ¡°Our scriptures say that the Progenitor died as the first Vessel was born. The loss of Luca¡¯s gift has caused¡­ so many deaths.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Luca. That was its name.¡±


    Challe leapt to her feet and stared down at Gwil with crackling eyes. ¡°I must see Warden Tezca. Help me find him.¡±


    Gwil grinned at her. ¡°Sure. Where the hell could he be?¡±


    ***


    Tezca the Elder Warden could not believe his eyes, nor his misfortune. He pinched a fold of his fat neck and jiggled his jowls while regarding the burnt mound that had been the Oubliette.


    Bad. Bad, bad, bad. Very bad. He needed to measure his ingredients with precision, or else his own corpse would resemble this charred husk.


    Tezca needed to be the master cakesmith, delicate and painstakingly vigilant, if he hoped to escape King Yuma¡¯s ire.


    He tapped his pudgy cheek in thought. Yuma had visited six months ago. With some luck, Tezca had another six before the King returned for an inspection.


    But a doughmaster would plan for the unexpected.


    Call it three months. Three months to fake his own death, secure a method of transportation that could carry all his servants and goods, and find a luxurious place to settle down.


    Tezca smiled, and the slight movement of his lips caused his cheeks to wobble. Yes. Cooking was about innovation and improvisation, and cooking was everything. This could be an opportunity. A true chocolatier would never waste such a chance.


    He could get out from under the oppressive thumb of King Yuma, that lanky dickweed. Tezca was a king himself, of sorts. Why should he be treated as an underling? Hells, the poor little Malikauans practically thought Tezca a god.


    He had allowed himself to wallow in comfort for too long. Far too long. He laughed jovially. ¡°Bah! Five hundred years of this!¡±


    ¡°Self,¡± Legs called. ¡°It¡¯s gone.¡±


    Tezca had prepared himself for that news¡ªthe loss of the Erithist Spike¡ªbut it still hurt. That was a lot of money, circling the drain. The Elder Warden laughed again. No matter. If the Spike was gone, it¡¯d be a bigger problem for Yuma, or whoever the King answered to.


    That thought granted Tezca clarity, and he made a promise to himself.


    If, when his Jaguars captured and killed the intruders, they reclaimed the Spike, he had to force himself to leave it behind, despite its tremendous value.


    In all likelihood, it wouldn¡¯t matter. One of the intruders would¡¯ve taken the Spike and fled back the way they came, securing the treasure while the others entered Malikau.


    Good, something to distract Yuma and keep him off my trail.


    But if Tezca did get a chance at the Spike¡­ No, he could not allow his greed to get the better of him. To steal the Spike would be a grave mistake. They¡¯d hunt him to the very ends of the World.

 Chapter Sixty – Always Room for More

    Tezca finished his donut and then sucked the powdered sugar off each of his fingers.


    ¡°Gather round, lads,¡± he said to the five Jaguars, who were still rummaging through the burnt remains of the Oubliette.


    Tezca¡¯s clones lined up in the same order as always: Head, Claws, Body, Legs, Tail.


    ¡°We will not be able to hide this from Yuma and the Leviathan. From here on out, we must treat every meal as if it could be the last.¡± Tezca wiped away a tear, and let his hand linger beside his face for an overlong moment.


    ¡°Now. One of you must die for this mistake,¡± he continued, fixing each of the clones with a stern look. ¡°Who shall it be?¡±


    As he often did, Head spoke up first. ¡°It¡¯s my fault, Self. I am the avatar of the damned brain, after all. What am I now, Thirtieth Generation? Let¡¯s just get it over with.¡±


    Head was half as tall as the true Tezca, but his head was three times as large. He wore thick spectacles that magnified his eyes and made him look like a housefly.


    Tezca nodded solemnly. ¡°Yes, your perpetually bad attitude leads to consistently poor decision-making, Head. Your domain is not just the brain, but also the ears, the mouth, the eyes. You are the best equipped to prevent such a tragedy. However, you are still a part of me, so I will exercise kindness. And I would be foolish not to consider every option.¡±


    Tezca extracted a silk handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his sweaty forehead. Then, with two pinching fingers, he smoothed out the single lock of hair that grew from the center of his bald head, making it stand up straight.


    Just as the platter-artisan selects the right hors d''oeuvres and arranges them in the correct manner in a perfect blend of art and sustenance¡­ Tezca must adopt that mindset.


    The Elder Warden looked at Claws, his scarred face, his jaguar-skull helm, his claws. Three to each hand¡ªrazor-sharp steel, fifteen centimeters long with a slight curve¡ªthe blades were affixed to the ends of each of his first three fingers via brackets incorporated in his gauntlets. Claws was muscular, built like a warrior, and easily the finest of the clones. That Tezca considered him at all was only a formality in the interest of fairness. Punishing Claws was out of the question. Not only was he the public face of the Warden in the eyes of the Malikauan servants, but he was also the most skilled fighter among the clones. Killer and defender.


    Hmmm¡­ Did that not mean that Claws should have murdered these intruders before they committed this atrocity? Perhaps. But alas, the intruders still needed to be killed, and Claws was the one best suited to that grisly and taxing task. He was off the table.


    Next, Body, who looked the most identical to the true Tezca, the only one who matched his girth. They were practically twins. That was a useful trick that Tezca kept close to his chest. A trick that he¡¯d likely be utilizing soon.


    The avatar of the stomach? ¡®Twould be sinful. Absolutely not.


    Legs? Another non-starter. Legs was so tall and thin, with quadriceps and calves that would make Aphrodite blush and fill Adonis with envy.


    Gods, how Tezca hated walking. Whenever King Yuma came to Malikau, Tezca asked him for one of those floating chairs. The bastard ignored the request every time.


    It had been five hundred years since Tezca became Hallowed, earning the ability to spawn these clones. Not once in those six hundred years had he ever killed Legs. He was the only clone still of the First Generation.


    Finally, Tail. Skinnier than the true Tezca, but otherwise normal, except for the abominable tail that grew out of his ass. Disgusting. Tezca insisted that Tail always wear trousers so he could keep the appendage securely tucked away. The thing stuck out abhorrently whenever the clone wore robes.


    Keeper of balance. Well, things were certainly out of balance now.


    Tezca, who his people held more dearly than their dead goddess, would be forced to flee across the World like a refugee. With my tail between my legs. He chortled to himself.


    He seriously considered killing Tail¡­ But no. He would need balance in order to survive this journey. They would likely travel by boat, and boats were often wobbly.


    Tezca removed a deviled egg from the slotted container he kept in his pocket and popped it into his mouth, chewing as he mulled over the situation. Mayonnaise was well known to stimulate the mind.


    Whichever clone he picked, he would need to generate a new one, and would be stuck with an infantile, stupid version that would take a year to reach adulthood. A necessary pruning, like cutting off the mold from a block of cheese.


    The true Elder Warden clasped his hands. ¡°Alright, lads. We will decide in the old way. Take a moment to prepare your arguments, and then each of you will state your case in turn. Head, you begin.¡±


    Head sighed. ¡°Well, Self, what I thought was that we¡¯ve been living here for over five hundred years and there¡¯s never been a single intruder. I assumed that the Oubliette would be safe. I didn¡¯t consider that there would be a threat. And why¡ª¡±


    Tezca snapped his fingers, though, due to his hand¡¯s pudginess, the sound was closer to a clap.


    Head¡¯s lifeless body melted as he collapsed into a puddle, like a cracked-open egg. His flesh turned stringy, peeling apart, dissolving into pink goo.


    Shimmering white vapor rose from the remains. Tezca shivered as Head¡¯s life force returned to his soul. And then he waited for the words.


    ¡®A knife in the eye in the moon in the brain.¡¯


    Tezca rolled his eyes at the Deathwish¡ªalways so nonsensical. A curiosity that occurred with the death of any Hallowed, a divine voice whispering cryptic words in the mind of the killer. He knew, of course, that there was likely some secret meaning to be uncovered, but to him, the messages were just inscrutable drivel, and he was not so ambitious as to dig deeper. But Tezca always logged the words, for he suspected he was unique.


    Surely there were not many who possessed the ability to summon an unlimited number of Hallows that could be killed without consequence. Why, he could write an entire book of Deathwishes, if he so chose. No one, not even any of his clones, knew of this gift.Stolen story; please report.


    The other clones applauded and laughed, giving each other high-fives and claps on the back. Tezca joined them.


    It went this way nearly every time. Head was just so boring, his arguments circular and full of nonsense that was at once banal and blithering.


    The man was full of nothing but excuses, ego the likely culprit. He was an amateur line cook, not cut out for the demands of the proverbial white hat.


    ¡°It is an honor to inter one of my clones in this Oubliette,¡± Tezca informed the Jaguars. ¡°This is a sacred place, after all. Very important, if I¡¯ve understood the mythos correctly. A key to the ending of the Apocalypse.


    ¡°Anyway, let us go deal with these intruders. Claws, you will murder them, I hope?¡±


    ¡°Certainly, Self.¡± Claws saluted, and in doing so, sliced open his forehead with his own claws.


    For hundreds of years the man wore those weapons, and still he managed to cut himself multiple times a day. Tezca ignored the blunder. No need to embarrass him. Despite his gruff exterior and his fighting prowess, Claws was very self-conscious.


    ¡°Good, good. Please do. If I end up having to dispose of you, then our escape will be very difficult to manage with only myself, Legs, and Tail.¡± Tezca coughed. ¡°Ahem. Erm, yes. And Body, too, of course.


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s be off. I have a bowl of buttered popcorn waiting for me at home.¡± Tezca sighed and his cheeks blubbered. ¡°Lads, the times they are a-changin¡¯. It reminds me of the famous tale of the innovative Veirgian sous chef from the seventh century A.L. Her name was Wanda Krambofferson, and, following the untimely¡ªand suspicious¡ªdeath of her head chef, she had her back against the wall. Ohohoho, the legendary Wanda thrived under pressure, and she re-invented her lord¡¯s favorite dish, pom frit, by replacing the potato with minced salmon. Add some cheese curds, and you have one of my most favorite dishes.¡±


    ***


    Glowing red eyes set within black masks. They looked like shadows, their brimmed helmets distinct in their silhouettes.


    Bowlheads.


    They moved in perfect harmony, not missing a beat despite their sudden arrival through the teleporter. The ten Leviathan stormtroopers formed up into two squads of five, laser guns raised and ready, swiveling to cover their every angle. The first group fanned out through the dome; the second went to secure the exit hatch.


    ¡°What the fuck are you doing, Cort?¡± Leira shrieked. ¡°Get over here!¡±


    Cort ran to where she stood at the teleporter¡¯s control terminal. As he moved, he glanced over his shoulder.


    Those three warriors were still just standing there at the chamber¡¯s threshold, gawking like fish out of water. They sure as hell didn¡¯t seem familiar with this sight.


    ¡°You put your brain back in?¡± Leira snapped.


    ¡°What do we do?¡± Cort¡¯s eyes darted between Leira, the terminal, and the troopers.


    Before Leira could answer, the teleporter activated again. An instant of utter blackness; a numbing coolness raking through the air.


    Cort shivered as red-eyed, black-clad figures filled the platform. A hundred stormtroopers.


    ¡°Smash the fucking computer!¡± Leira screeched. ¡°Smash it!¡±


    Brown spores poured from her eyeflower, covering the control panel as she beat on it with her hands. An acidic substance chewed through the plastic components, sizzling and bubbling. Leira slumped over, foamy puke gurgling out of her mouth.


    Cort moved her aside and then raised his hammer and brought it down. The control panel folded and sparked.


    ¡°Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!¡± Leira was going feral.


    As he continued demolishing the terminal, Cort caught sight of the lead bowlhead, steps away from the dome¡¯s hatch.


    ¡°Leira! The door?¡±


    ¡°I locked it,¡± she said, still retching. ¡°They¡¯ll have to blast their way out. The cables. Just get the cables.¡±


    Cort clambered over the crumpled heap to get a better angle on the cables that ran behind the terminal. He crushed the thick metal conduits as if he were busting up a rotten tree stump.


    The teleporter activated again.


    Steeling himself, Cort continued his assault. The shredded ends spat blue sparks. Little beads of Kaia exploded, speckling the air with blots of nothingness.


    Cort¡¯s knee buckled as a frigid sensation stabbed through his calf. He rolled away as the Kaia whined like a teapot. It exploded when it hit the crescendo.


    A man-sized gash cut through the side of the dome, an ink-black abyss. That portion of the dome, and the surrounding space, did not exist anymore.


    And Isca claimed she could survive that¡­


    The teleporter¡¯s flash of blackness came again, this time sputtering.


    ¡°Wahaha!¡±


    At first, Cort thought Leira was hurt. As he scrambled to his feet, he saw she was cackling like a demon.


    ¡°Look!¡± Leira pointed at the teleporter¡¯s platform.


    Another hundred Leviathan stormtroopers had arrived. They lay in a twisted heap, their bodies bent at unnatural, boneless angles. Bright blue Kaia gushed out of their bodies.


    More and more Kaia pooled across the platform, bubbling like a pot of chili on the stove. The tide devoured the pile of soldiers.


    Their comrades paid them no mind as they advanced.


    Leira smacked Cort on the back. ¡°Run!¡±


    They sprinted across the chamber as the bowlheads fired their weapons. A flurry of red lights erupted inside the dome. Cracks splintered through the glass, and a few pieces chipped away, but it did not shatter. Cort¡¯s eyes widened. That¡¯s some strong shit.


    The damage was enough for sounds to get out. Clattering armor and heavy footsteps. Their voices, amplified by the speakers in their masks, were garbled and staticky, discordant like buzzing insects.


    The soldiers fired the next barrage. Cort knew well the thick, moist, zapping sound of Leviathan laser gunfire. The blasts echoed with a resonant hum. The dome deteriorated further.


    Most of the soldiers appeared to be carrying single-shot atomic slug guns. Standard-issue for most stormtrooper companies, the guns fired a high-impact, gelatinous projectile capable of better structural damage than a gaseous plasma gun.


    The downside was that a new canister had to be loaded after every shot, like an Old World musket.


    Cort rolled up his pant leg as he ran¡ªhis foot was numb with pins-and-needles. A black divot scarred the side of his calf, like a spoonful had been scooped out.


    ¡°Fucking hell!¡± he yelled, not because of his leg, but because of the witless storm warriors, still just standing there. ¡°What, are they playing possum? Idiots.¡±


    ***


    Quez felt woozy. His vision was blurred and splotchy, collapsing beneath the weight of a splitting headache. His stomach churned with nausea.


    He¡¯d been arguing with Lall and Alta. He was ordering them to retreat, and they were ignoring him.


    Quez would stay no matter what. That was his duty as Sworn Guardian. He had taken an oath, and he would rather die than betray it further.


    Their argument ended as all three of them were choked into silence, suffocated by the weight of disbelief.


    A nightmare made real, come to ruin their home. Was this what Tezca and the Jaguars had fought against for nine hundred and ninety-nine days?


    Red-eyed abominations with fire-spitting weapons and bodies made of metallic shadows?


    They had witnessed their unnatural birth. The demons spawned within that gigantic glass womb, and even in their infancy, they breathed destruction.


    Those two-chair wielding demons were but harbingers. Lesser beings ushering their heinous masters. Quez had a wild thought that those two might¡¯ve been corrupted humans.


    A trickle of urine ran down Quez¡¯s leg when he spotted those two humanoid demons rushing straight toward them.


    The sight of that massive hammer¡­ It had crushed so many of his brothers and sisters.


    Quez exchanged a look with Lall. There was nothing to be done. Despite his failure, he smiled at her. Let that be my final act. Let death come. Quez closed his eyes.


    ¡°Up ya go, you fucking buffoon,¡± the demon-man said in his rough voice as he threw Quez over his shoulder.


    Looking backward now, Quez saw that the more feminine-looking demon, the one with the cursed flower growing from her eye, was surrounded by a cloud of red mist. She had grabbed Lall and Atla by their wrists, and his two sisters now ran in-step with the demon-woman.


    They returned to the labyrinth of perfect metal. Quez smiled. Oh, how wonderful. All his fear melted away. It would be lovely, so lovely, to follow the whims of this beautiful flower woman. So easy and peaceful. No more suffering.


    The hellish shadow demons finished ripping through their mother¡¯s body. They poured forth from her shattered womb.

 Chapter Sixty-One – Cooking Can Be Dangerous

    Their footsteps pounding against the metal floors. The low rumble of burgeoning thunder, the storm reaching through stories of bedrock to make its voice heard. Her heart jumping out of her chest, her blood thrumming through her skull, like so many pounding drums.


    Leira, Cort, and the three clueless warriors tore through the Kaia-lit halls in a mad dash to get away from the teleporter and the soon-to-be pursuing Leviathan stormtroopers.


    Cort led the way, carrying the eagle-man on his shoulder. Leira assumed Cort knew where he was going, based on the confidence with which he took some turns and ignored others. That, or he was making a damn good show of pretending.


    They reached the top of a ramp (that they were going upward had to be a good sign) and Cort slid to a halt in front of a storage closet. He dropped the eagle-man on the floor and threw the door open.


    ¡°Not the time,¡± Leira hissed as she wheeled around. ¡°We can¡¯t hide from them like that, idiot. Scanners.¡±


    Cort backed out of the closet, towing two tall carts, their shelves packed with an assortment of glass bottles. ¡°Can you make them help us?¡± he asked, nodding at the warrior women.


    He shoved the two carts down the ramp. They swiveled as they gained speed, then one flipped over, bringing the second down with it. A hundred bottles shattered like a fallen chandelier; golden liquid sprayed like champagne, coating the floor. The surviving bottles rolled down the ramp as if taking part in a race.


    ¡°Shards of glass and a slippery floor won¡¯t do sh- Ohhh!¡± Leira cackled. ¡°You knew this was here?¡±


    Cort nodded. ¡°We checked it earlier. Thought it might be useful.¡±


    Oil. All those bottles were filled with different types of cooking oil¡ªolive, sunflower, sesame, hemp, peanut.


    Leira shoved the two warrior women into the closet. ¡°Quick, quick, quick, c¡¯mon ladies.¡±


    Using her thoughts alone, Leira could force them to carry out simple commands, but yelling and gesturing worked best.


    The two women moved in the swaying, jerky manner of her enthralled. She¡¯d given them both a hefty dose¡ªthis was no time for half-measures, and the green-haired one was a stubborn gal.


    Leira had seen expressions like theirs before, that mix of incomprehension and terror as something unimaginable descended. It was the face of the conquered when they learned that they were insects in the eyes of their conquerors.


    The sight of that teleporter had struck the three warriors dumb, nailing their feet to the floor. Leira would¡¯ve bet at least one of them pissed themselves.


    Standing side by side with Anesidyra, Leira had witnessed how those stupefied expressions remained unchanging even as death came swirling down upon them.


    She¡¯d seen it in so many eyes, deadened by shattered innocence. In those final moments, they could not muster thoughts for their lives or their loved ones. Instead, they were force-fed the truth of their insignificance. They died choking on the knowledge that they were worthless fodder.


    No one deserved to die like that.


    The three of them wheeled out the four remaining carts and sent them careening down the ramp. They crashed in spectacular fashion. The pool of green and yellow oils slicked the floor, streaming down the ramp.


    Cort handed Leira their backpack that was full of ztuff. She started grabbing handfuls of tubes and chucking them down the ramp.


    At the same time, Cort planted the Kaia stove on the floor and flicked it on. Then he took an empty glass bottle out of his pocket, tore off a strip of his shirt, and twisted the cloth into the neck of the bottle.


    ¡°Ready?¡± he asked.


    Leira nodded as she slung the backpack over her shoulder and ushered the three warriors ahead.


    Cort lit the molotov on the stove and then hurled it.


    Flames flashed to life across the floor, an instant inferno that filled the hall. The ztuff tubes exploded like little bombs. The three warriors clapped and whooped in awe at the light show.


    Cort tucked the Kaia stove under his arm, and they set off running again.


    ¡°That¡¯ll buy us some time, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be enough to bring the ceiling down,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Maybe the closet at the bottom is full of lumber,¡± Leira said.


    They took the next right turn and then climbed another ramp. At the top, they passed an ajar closet. Leira recognized it as the one where they¡¯d found the sushi.


    ¡°We¡¯re near the exit,¡± Leira said.


    Cort nodded. ¡°Yo, birdman.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for carrying me,¡± the warrior said.


    Cort made a face at Leira. ¡°Can you make them less stupid?¡±


    Leira deadened some of the spores that were afflicting the eagle-man.


    ¡°Demons!¡± the warrior screamed, shaking his head and stumbling. He recovered, bashed Cort in the hip with his shield, and then aimed his bladed club at Cort¡¯s face.


    Without breaking his step, Cort caught the man by the throat, carried him for a few strides, and then slammed him down on the floor.


    The two warrior women stopped and watched, their heads both tilted in curiosity.


    ¡°No time for this, Cort,¡± Leira said, straining to listen. A faint clamor echoed through the halls.


    ¡°Are you in charge?¡± Cort barked, leaning over the eagle-man, their noses nearly touching. ¡°What¡¯d you know about this shit?¡± He jerked the man¡¯s head up and then smashed it down. ¡°Levi scumsucker.¡±


    ¡°They know even less than us,¡± Leira muttered. That was part of the reason her spores were having such an effect on the warriors. Their minds were vulnerable because they had no goddamn clue what was going on. Cort was just being a brute.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Demon! Demon!¡± the eagle-man cried. ¡°Lall, Atla¡ªrun!¡±


    The two women hugged each other, staring slack-jawed at the altercation. Leira shook her head and deadened their spores, too. Might as well make it a party.


    ¡°The Gracestorm will devour every single one of you demons!¡±


    ¡°Demon?¡± Cort growled. ¡°No, you¡¯re a demon.¡± He looked up at Leira, flabbergasted.


    Leira blew out through puffed-up cheeks. The fuck am I supposed to do? She knelt and flapped her hands, signaling the others to join her. ¡°Listen up, we need to hurry. Truce? If you don¡¯t agree, Cort will crush his throat.¡±


    The three warriors looked between each other and nodded.


    Leira spoke very quickly. ¡°I¡¯m guessing here, so bear with me. You all think the World has ended. I dunno why you think that, but it¡¯s not true. We are not demons. We¡¯re just travelers who stumbled into your home.


    ¡°Those red-eyed soldiers, those are fucking demons as far as you¡¯re concerned. They will raze your little temple. As to why the fuck you have a Leviathan teleporter in your basement? Take it up with your ruler.¡±


    ¡°You summoned the demons!¡± one of the women said. ¡°We saw you!¡±


    ¡°By accident!¡± Leira said. ¡°I mean- That¡¯s not true!¡±


    ¡°Leira,¡± Cort said. ¡°Their army will attack us when we get outside here. That¡¯s the problem.¡±


    ¡°Right. None of us wanna get killed by those soldiers. Let¡¯s work together. There¡¯s not so many bowlheads. We can beat them if we¡¯re not fighting with each other.¡±


    Cort, the eagle-man, and the green-haired lady got into a small scuffle as the eagle-man tried to sit up. Leira and the other woman managed to separate them.


    The eagle-man clutched his throat, and, rasping, said, ¡°You massacred our brothers and sisters with furniture.¡±


    Leira grimaced.


    ¡°You attacked us first!¡± Cort said. ¡°Look at my teeth.¡± He peeled his lips back, revealing the gaping gap.


    ¡°You monsters invaded our home, kidnapped our goddess, and slaughtered us!¡±


    ¡°Shut up about your teeth, Cort,¡± Leira shouted, jumping to her feet. The noises were getting louder. Maybe the soldiers had already gotten past the fire. ¡°We have no fucking time. There¡¯s a company of stormtroopers a minute behind us. You have two options. One. You three escort us out of here and stop your warriors from attacking us. We all team up and fight the Leviathan together. Afterwards, we¡¯ll leave, and you all live happily ever after. Option two. We fucking kill you right now. Then we go outside and kill all your friends. What¡¯ll it be?¡±


    ¡°Kill us, you demon-witch!¡± spat the green-haired warrior woman, who was the more decorated of the two.


    ¡°Oo, I kinda like that,¡± Leira muttered.


    ¡°We would rather die than bargain with filth!¡±


    ¡°WHAT?¡± Cort roared. ¡°Let¡¯s just leave them, Leira.¡±


    ¡°No. We¡¯re the ones who brought the Leviathan here. I¡¯ll put them to sleep, and we¡¯ll use them as hostages or something.¡±


    The petals of the Megrim flower swayed, and pink spores whispered out.


    ¡°We agree to option one,¡± the eagle-man said.


    ¡°Quez!¡± shouted the two women.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. I will commit any sin for the slimmest chance at saving my comrades.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± Cort said. ¡°Get up, get up. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    They scrambled through the last stretch of halls. Leira realized they were near the exit when they passed a broken chair she¡¯d dropped earlier.


    ¡°We need to find Gwil,¡± Cort said.


    Leira nodded. ¡°At least we can bet he hasn¡¯t fucked things up as badly as us. Hey, you three! What are your names? I¡¯m Leira.¡±


    ***


    Gwil, Challe, and the snaketopus zipped down a waterway. They¡¯d thrown all the boat¡¯s cargo out so that they could both stand up inside. They rode the winding chute all the way down to the atrium¡¯s second level, and then stepped onto the dock that ran alongside the balcony.


    ¡°You think the Jaguars went to fight my friends?¡± Gwil asked as the snaketopus loosened its grip on his arms. The creature had been clinging on for dear life as they rode the waterway. ¡°They must be down below still.¡±


    Challe pressed her fingertips together and breathed through pursed lips while tugging at her braid with one of her extra hands. ¡°I believe so. The Warden and the Jaguars are warriors. They would have to join the fight against the demons.


    ¡°You care for your friends, don¡¯t you? Aren¡¯t you worried? Just the two of them against a thousand?¡±


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°They¡¯re fine. Not to be rude, but your warriors aren¡¯t any good at fighting.¡±


    Challe gasped. ¡°I¡¯ve just thought of something. You did come through the Oubliette, yes? Just not through a portal.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Gwil said, pointing upward. ¡°We fell through the ground. It was an accident. We were only trying to cross through these lands on the surface.¡±


    ¡°The Oubliette was sealed off,¡± Challe said. ¡°No one alive, save Tezca and the Jaguars, has ever stepped foot inside. What did you find?¡±


    ¡°A dead lady with a tree growing out of her corpse,¡± Gwil said. ¡°And a poisonous stake driven through her heart.¡±


    Challe sighed and picked at one of the jadestones in her arm. ¡°If I¡¯m to follow this blasphemous avenue¡­ Our scripture cites the Oubliette as the place from which the first demons poured forth. It is described as a broken bridge to hell, sealed by a sacrificial corpse.¡±


    Gwil furrowed his brow. ¡°Hmmm. That¡¯s not what I saw. I don¡¯t think that¡¯s right. It felt more like¡­ something in chains.¡±


    ¡°Well, exactly. The Progenitor is alive. If all your claims are truthful, too¡­ Everything that I¡ªwe¡ªbelieve, everything we¡¯ve been told¡­ All lies. Our scriptures, complete fabrications. It would only make sense that the Oubliette is something completely different.¡±


    ¡°Oh! I get it. So you¡¯re wondering why it was forbidden.¡±


    ¡°Yes. It is something that Tezca took great measures to protect and keep hidden. If something so precious has been disturbed, I wonder if that is where we might find him. But the way is blocked off.¡±


    ¡°I could shrink and go take a look,¡± Gwil said. ¡°But I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any point. There¡¯s nothing there anymore. We ripped the Erithist spike out and then set the corpse on fire.¡±


    Challe clamped four hands over her mouth in succession. ¡°Goddess! What lunacy!¡±


    Gwil laughed. ¡°Yeah, so if Warren does care about that place, I bet he¡¯s pretty pissed. Let¡¯s just go find my friends. Their names are Cort and Leira. You¡¯ll love them.¡±


    ***


    Claws and Body opened the door and exited the secret tunnel. Legs and Tail hung back to help Tezca up from his cart-chair.


    These secret tunnels were a godsend, allowing Tezca and the Jaguars to move all throughout Malikau at their leisure. Even better, thanks to the chair and the system of rail tracks, Tezca did not have to walk.


    Tezca liked to keep himself and the Jaguars shrouded in an air of mystique. That they could pop up anytime, anywhere, really added to the effect. Also, since the Malikauan servants all believed that Claws was their Elder Warden, an extra bit of discretion aided in maintaining that ruse.


    Stepping out into the lobby of his temple, Tezca sniffed at the air. ¡°Ooo,¡± he said, rubbing his hands together. ¡°Did I leave something on the stove?¡±


    ¡°Self,¡± Claws said. ¡°When will you generate a new Head?¡±


    Tezca tapped his lip with his fingertip. ¡°Mmm. We will undoubtedly require his intellect while we prepare for our escape. We¡¯ll need to contrive a great disaster that will convince all the Malikauans to flee their beloved sanctuary. A demon invasion, perhaps.


    ¡°Even a childish and stupid version of Head will offer valuable insight. And we must craft our plans ASAP¡ªthat¡¯s as soon as possible, if any of you didn¡¯t know. Mmmm. But I suppose a week of peace and quiet wouldn¡¯t hurt. Ask me again in a few days.¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± Claws said. ¡°I will begin hunting the intruders. I hope to have them dealt with before dinner.¡± He made for the exit.


    ¡°Body,¡± Tezca said. ¡°Lower the lift. I am dying to know what I left cooking upstairs.¡±


    Body waddled over to the lift, and Tezca waddled after him. Body untied the rope from its post and pulled.


    The wooden lift came crashing down, smashing into bits and kicking up dust when it hit the floor.


    Tezca jumped back. ¡°What the deuce?¡±


    Body picked up a blackened piece of debris¡ªa few planks of wood dangling from a charred bit of rope. ¡°It¡¯s been burnt.¡±


    Tezca¡¯s eyes widened. He gasped, dislodging a piece of food from his teeth, which he subsequently inhaled and choked on. He pounded his fist on his sternum while Tail and Legs thumped him on the back.


    ¡°W-what in the hells did I leave on the stove?¡± he sputtered.


    Tezca hurriedly waddled toward the door, full of dreadful urgency, urgency he¡¯d not felt in a century, not since¡­


    Claws blindly rushed back into the lobby, shouting, ¡°Self! Self!¡± He crashed into Tezca and bounced off his belly.


    ¡°Self!¡± Claws said, gasping. ¡°There¡¯s been a tragedy. A fire in the kitchen. Self, it¡¯s all burnt! Everything!¡±


    ¡°WHAT?¡± Tezca roared. ¡°All my ingredients! Not again!¡± He hurried outside, so devastated that he did not even consider how irritating it was that he had to climb the stairs. Gods damn my boundless culinary ambitions.

 Chapter Sixty-Two – Rocking Back and Forth

    ¡°Stop! Stop here!¡± Quez shouted.


    The demon-man and the demon-woman stopped short of the corner. Around that corner was the way out of this metal labyrinth. Now that they¡¯d stopped running, Quez could hear the voices of his warriors waiting outside.


    ¡°You must stay here and let us go first,¡± Quez said. ¡°Otherwise, they will believe you¡¯ve corrupted us with your magic. I am going to try to explain the situation.¡±


    ¡°Are you shitting me?¡± the one called Cort said. ¡°If you betray us, you¡¯re all dead. Do you even have any authority, birdman?¡±


    Lall fiercely stepped forward. ¡°He is Sworn Guardian, commander of the Malikauan warriors.¡±


    ¡°Then why the fuck is there any question whether they¡¯ll listen?¡±


    Quez swallowed. ¡°I am a poor leader. My weakness has been revealed. I watched, helpless, as you slaughtered my brothers and sisters.¡±


    ¡°What? You want an apology? You attacked us first!¡±


    ¡°Enough, Cort,¡± the flower-witch said. ¡°Just go. They¡¯re coming.¡±


    Quez fell in step with Lall and Atla, and they rounded the corner. Cheers erupted. It seemed the entire army awaited their return. None of them had crossed the threshold, but they filled the area outside.


    Quez felt his stomach drop. All of them, packed into these narrow corridors, ripe for slaughter. If he¡¯d been deceived, if those two humanoid demons turned¡­


    In his mind¡¯s eye, blood spraying. Guts spilling out, splattering on the floor.


    Quez slowed as they neared the end. He felt like he was being dangled over a chasm. Those two demons seemed to genuinely fear the red-eyed monsters. Perhaps some uncontrollable cousins of theirs from the demon realm?


    ¡°Atla, you¡¯re dismissed,¡± Lall said. She sent Atla out ahead of them a shove.


    ¡°Quez, what are you doing?¡± Lall hissed as they trudged toward the open arms of their cheering comrades. ¡°I thought you were lying to them. You have been corrupted. This is blasphemy of the highest order. We must kill those two demons while we have the chance!¡±


    ¡°Hold your tongue, Speaker Lall. I am Sworn Guardian. My oath is not only to Challe¡¯Jade, but to all of Malikau. I have no choice. I am willing to damn my soul. I¡¯ll do whatever it takes.¡±


    Quez moved past her and stepped out into the familiar stone corridor. ¡°Warriors, prepare for battle! The demons are here, they are coming now!


    ¡°They are made of metal, and they wield weapons of fire. We witnessed their birth. They are coming to destroy us! They will destroy us.¡±


    ¡°Blasphemer!¡± a voice screamed. Atla, raising a torch above her head. The warriors around her were banging on their shields.


    Quez raised his voice and pushed his way through the crowd. The cheers had shifted into discordant murmuring. ¡°I would give my life for any one of you. All I can do is hope that you¡¯ll trust me. I am¡­ I am trying to make a miracle happen.


    ¡°I believe the giant bull-man and the flower woman that we fought earlier are not demons! I cannot claim to know what they are¡ª¡±


    Furor swelled through the warriors. ¡°Demon slave! Traitor!¡± they jeered.


    Quez was jostled as the tide of bodies shifted against him. He shoved them back. A thrown club smacked him in the face.


    He raised his voice. ¡°They may even be humans, survivors of the Apocalypse from a distant corner of the World. But they are willing to ally with us against the true demons. No, I do know what they are! They are our only chance.¡±


    ¡°Blasphemer!¡±


    ¡°The Sworn Guardian has been corrupted!¡±


    Quez was knocked to the ground. Some of the warriors held against the mob, not to protect him, but to keep a semblance of order. A foot stomped on Quez¡¯s finger. Another found his stomach, knocked his wind out.


    He spotted Lall through the horde. She looked down on him, rocking back and forth on her heels.


    ¡°Traitor!¡± she screamed. Rabid, she pushed through the tangle of limbs, club raised. She cracked him on the back of the head.


    ***


    ¡°Fucking hell,¡± Leira said, peeking around the corner.


    ¡°Saw that coming,¡± Cort said. ¡°No chance they were gonna listen to that dipshit.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect the betrayal to come from the green-haired lady, though,¡± Leira said.


    She couldn¡¯t even see Quez anymore. The mob had buried him. But she could see Lall, trying to fight off the swarm, even though she¡¯d just clubbed Quez herself.


    Leira shook her head. ¡°They might kill him.¡±


    ¡°Time to go!¡± Cort said. He grabbed her by the wrist as he tore around the corner.


    At the far end of the hall, the Leviathan stormtroopers appeared.


    As Cort pulled her away, Leira¡¯s gaze lingered for half a heartbeat. Illuminated red eyes, mindless and cruel. She knew that, inside those masks, their natural eyes had been fused to those optical devices, providing them with extrasensory capabilities.


    These stormtroopers were the Leviathan¡¯s most common type of infantry, often used by Monarchs to supplement their own personal forces.


    They opened fire. A barrage of laser slugs splattered against the wall behind Leira. The air quivered with the warbling hum.


    ¡°Run, you fucking idiots! Run!¡± Cort screamed as he leapt out into the corridor. He plowed through warriors with his hammer, though, to his credit, he was shoving them rather than smashing them.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Leira released a cloud of red spores and sent it drifting over the heads of the feather-clad warriors. She spared a glance back as the bowlheads rushed the exit.


    Faceless cyborgs, once-humans turned machinelike. Most stormtroopers were ordinary people conscripted from populations deemed in need of culling. They were then lobotomized, surgically enhanced, and grafted into their armor.


    A layer of aramid fibers was fused to their skin, serving as a sort of bodysuit. Matte black plating covered their bodies, segmented at the joints to allow full mobility. The tubes that ran from the ventilators on their masks to the tanks on their backs were multipurpose, providing, when necessary, nutrition, water, air, stimulant drugs, and painkillers.


    Cort had managed to extract Quez from the mob.


    ¡°Retreat!¡± the eagle-man was screaming as Cort threw him over his shoulder. He¡¯d been beaten half to death. ¡°Retreat!¡±


    Leira kept behind Cort as they pushed through the fleeing warriors. She wove them a path through her enthralled and guided a few unlucky ones backward to form up into a rearguard. She felt bad about using them as meat shields, but she could only do so much. She wasn¡¯t a goddamn saint. Ashkana must have made her share of tough calls, too, she told herself.


    Screaming white-red slugs ripped through the mob. Men and women were incinerated. Melted globs of flesh splattered the ground, blackened and boiling.


    Leira clung to Cort¡¯s backpack, her head buzzing with the resonance of so many discharged laser weapons. The air stank of burnt flesh.


    She wished the storm would shut the fuck up. The constant sound of rumbling thunder was driving her up the wall.


    The stormtroopers spilled into the corridor, relentless, heedless. Their boots squished through puddles of atomic sludge and liquified corpses. They fired another barrage.


    Quez screamed in Leira¡¯s ear and then twisted out of Cort¡¯s hold, landing hard on the ground. He scrambled to his feet and then fell over again as he tried to go against the flow of fleeing warriors. He crawled forward.


    ¡°Lall! Lall!¡± he shouted, blood dripping from his mouth. He was going to be trampled.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± Leira gave Cort a tug to let him know what was happening and then raised her hands, fingers dancing and curling, red spores streaming out to enthrall more warriors. She pulled them away from Quez, and, in clearing that path, saw what he was trying to do.


    Lall lay against the wall, huddled in a ball. A nasty red gash gleamed on the side of her head. Her green hair was all matted around the wound. Her face was a swollen mess of blood and bruises.


    ¡°You¡¯re shitting me,¡± Cort said. ¡°This is all her fault!¡± He had strapped a few of the warriors¡¯ shields to his arms and chest, and he held their Kaia stove in his arms.


    ¡°Aw, c¡¯mon, it¡¯s sweet,¡± Leira said. She took a step forward, but Cort pulled her back. He held up one finger. They waited a beat¡­


    ¡°Now!¡± Cort barked. He hurled the Kaia stove through the air.


    The stormtroopers fired their next volley.


    One slug connected, and blue ooze spewed out, trailing through the air as the cannister fell, spinning. It hit the ground at the feet of the Leviathan¡¯s front rank.


    The stove exploded. Leira¡¯s breath was sucked out of her lungs. Fifteen bowlheads vanished without a trace.


    Cort and Leira plunged through the straggling warriors and, keeping low, rushed over to Quez and Lall. Black smoke enveloped the pack of stormtroopers, flashing blue with secondary detonations.


    Leira pulled Quez off of Lall. She¡¯d expected him to fight her, but he just fell over, incapacitated by the force of his sobbing.


    This guy is their best warrior? They wouldn¡¯t even stand a chance against ten stormtroopers.


    Cort scooped Lall up and cradled her in his arms. Leira winced upon realizing that the woman¡¯s arm had been blown off at the elbow. At least the laser had cauterized it. She had a smoldering wound on her side, too¡ªprobably from the same slug.


    Leira couldn¡¯t affect stormtroopers with her spores, because their masks filtered them out. The only thing she had that could do anything was¡­


    Leira rammed two fingers into the center of the Megrim flower, twisting them around, puncturing something ethereal. Her fingers burned.


    She screamed as she released a fountain of acidic brown spores. The raining mist mixed with the dissipating Kaia smoke.


    It¡¯d do fuck all against their armor, but she knew from experience that it could damage their bodysuits and their boots. Every little thing could make a difference.


    Her throat torn raw, Leira vomited out a mixture of bile and blood and sushi.


    Cort pushed her and Quez ahead of him as they dashed back through the warriors. With a little coaxing, they were polite enough to get the fuck out of the way.


    Quez had his arm around Leira¡¯s shoulder, using her for support. She wrenched him forward and threw him down. ¡°Use your fucking legs! They¡¯re all gonna die without you. You¡¯re their leader¡ªuse your fucking voice!¡±


    Leira shook her head as Quez got up and walked on his own.


    Looking over the warriors, Leira could see the big metal doors that she and Cort had jetpacked through earlier. They were nearly there¡ªmore than half of the warriors had already made it inside the auditorium.


    At the sound of another laser barrage, Cort bull-rushed them through the bottleneck that had formed at the doors. He shoved the entire wall of people straight through.


    Leira laughed, wondering if the warriors had been hoping to lock her and Cort outside. That wasn¡¯t gonna happen. The last of the warriors made it inside and the heavy doors slammed shut.


    The locking mechanism dangled from when Cort had broken it, but the warriors were quick to build up a barricade.


    They were back in the room with all the crucifixes, lit bright green by the jade eagle statue. For now, the warriors seemed content to ignore the two demons in their midst.


    ¡°Now is not the time to stop running!¡± Cort shouted, heading further into the auditorium. Warriors were spreading throughout. ¡°Back up! Get away from the doors! Back all the way the fuck up.¡±


    As if on cue, laser slugs slapped against the doors. They sizzled and smoked, sagging at the heat.


    ¡°Give her to me, Cort,¡± Leira said, gesturing for him to set Lall down. She knelt over the half-conscious woman.


    ¡°Please, demon-witch,¡± Lall groaned, writhing. ¡°Don¡¯t touch me. Don¡¯t poison me.¡±


    Leira clicked her tongue. First things first, she puffed out the residual acidic spores¡ªthose wouldn¡¯t help the lady¡¯s wounds much. Then she released a dose of pink spores in Lall¡¯s face. An analgesic anesthetic, with just a touch of euphoria¡ªthat never hurt.


    Lall stopped struggling and her breath steadied. Quez hovered over Leira¡¯s shoulder, his anxiety so damn palpable that it rubbed off on her. She really wanted to smack him.


    Instead, she cut away as much as she could of Lall¡¯s burnt clothing, which had fused to the edges of her wound. ¡°This might sting,¡± Leira said as she changed to white spores. The flaky substance fell like snow. She sprinkled some onto Lall¡¯s flank wound, her worst injury, then some more on her arm and head wound. The spores caked into something like gauzy spider silk.


    It didn¡¯t do any healing¡ªshe wasn¡¯t so lucky to have such a power, and that gift wasn¡¯t something Megrim could give. But it had numbing and antiseptic properties, and it served as a decent bandage.


    Behind her, Cort grabbed Quez by the collar and lifted him off the ground, so they were face to face. ¡°Is there another way out of this room?¡±


    ¡°No. We¡¯re trapped.¡±


    ¡°You morons!¡±


    ¡°Please, tell me,¡± Quez said. ¡°Where is Challe¡¯Jade?¡±


    ¡°The crucifix lady?¡± Leira said. ¡°Our friend has her. He should be here any¡ª¡±


    Bang! One of the metal doors broke off and slammed down on the ground. A flurry of laser slugs flew through the auditorium.


    ***


    ¡°Woah,¡± Gwil said to Challe as they looked down into the hole in the floor. Green and red lights were flashing like crazy. ¡°Sounds like it¡¯s getting exciting in there.¡±


    ¡°My people are going to be slaughtered! Please, we have to help them!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Uhh¡­¡± He looked around and then grinned as his eyes landed on the big statue that he¡¯d climbed on earlier. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. This¡¯ll work.¡± He stuck his head down into the hole and shouted, ¡°Clear the way!¡±


    Then he went behind the statue and started pushing.


    ***


    The bowlheads broke through. Warriors scattered, clambering into the stands, taking cover behind pillars, crucifixes, and the wall surrounding the sandy pit. Leira and the others hid behind the big jade statue in the middle.


    Leira looked up at the hole in the ceiling. C¡¯mon.


    A moment passed, filled with cries and laser fire.


    Lo and behold.


    Leira beamed as the ceiling exploded. A huge statue of a man came crashing through, landing headfirst, forming a ramp to the floor above. Then Gwil jumped down, accompanied by that storm woman and an octopus.

 Chapter Sixty-Three – Bent and Useless

    Tezca knelt among the ashes¡ªthe ruins¡ªof his kitchen. With one hand, he palmed his forehead. With the other, he idly raked his fingers through the smoldering rubble. It seared his flesh like grilled pork, even as his Nirva healed the burns.


    That¡¯s the cycle of life, isn¡¯t it? Gods, how could I let this happen again? The saffron, the truffles, the caviar.


    Body waddled up from behind and placed his hand on Tezca¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Self. There is evidence indicating that this was no simple cooking mishap. No accident. I suspect the intruders started this fire.¡±


    ¡°WHAT?¡± Tezca roared.


    Tail ran in from the next room. ¡°Self! Luca and Octavia are both missing! Luca¡¯s tank has been smashed!¡±


    ¡°WHAT?¡±


    Legs came bounding through the door. ¡°Self! There is a company of Leviathan troopers in the Stormwomb! They are doing battle with our servants!¡±


    ¡°WHAT?¡±


    Body fell over, hyperventilating and clutching his chest. ¡°Do-Do you think-¡± Gasping and wheezing. ¡°King Yuma will come?¡±


    ¡°Fucking, fucking, fuck!¡± Tezca pounded his fists against the floor, his face burning hot with rage.


    Then, he made a decision and turned cold. Tezca performed the silly warding gesture that he¡¯d invented for the Malikauan scriptures. He didn¡¯t know why he did it.


    The Elder Warden siphoned away Body¡¯s Nirva. But he did not steal back the sliver of his soul.


    ¡°Self?¡± Body whimpered.


    Tezca threw himself on top of Body, dug his fingers through the folds of Body¡¯s neck, and started strangling him. The true Warden snarled as Body weakly clawed at his hands.


    The face, so like his own, turned purple. The eyes bulged, bloodshot and teary.


    Those dying eyes fixed on Tail and Legs, his brothers, pleading. The two clones looked on, silent.


    Tighter and tighter. Something sturdy within the fat neck crumpled. Drool and bile dribbled down Body¡¯s chin, covering Tezca¡¯s hands. He did not feel the warmth of the fluids as he squeezed, tighter and tighter.


    Body finally went still. His face looked like a mushed raspberry pie. Exhausted, Tezca collapsed and rolled over onto his back.


    The Deathwish came. ¡®Would that the lunatic All-Father, Ezathiza, never arrived. Would that the children were not so greedy.¡¯


    No time to rest. That was Tezca¡¯s first thought upon murdering a piece of himself. How cruel life can be.


    He flailed like an overturned turtle; Tail and Legs helped him to sit upright.


    Tezca wiped off his hands on his robe. ¡°Nasty business, but it had to be done. We are accelerating our timeline, that¡¯s all. Body¡¯s body will be left for Yuma to find. He will think the intruders killed me, and we will be able to escape unpursued.¡±


    ¡°Brilliant, Self,¡± Tail said, wringing his hands. ¡°But won¡¯t Body¡¯s body deteriorate before it¡¯s found?¡±


    Tezca took out his deviled egg container and found it empty. He ripped it in half and then threw the pieces at the wall. ¡°No. I did not re-capture his soul. I murdered him in the mundane way. As far as the World is concerned, he¡¯s an ordinary dead man.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ how did you know that would happen?¡± Tail asked.


    Tezca¡¯s gaze fixed on Legs. The tall man crossed his arms and turned, shifting uncomfortably.


    A sinister grin crossed Tezca¡¯s face. ¡°Ask Legs,¡± he spat. ¡°He was there. He knows what happened to Hands.¡±


    Tezca took out his backup deviled egg container and popped one of the little delicacies into his mouth. He squished the goodness between his teeth. Blessed mayonnaise. He needed to keep his temper in check. He was bitter over the permanent loss of yet another sliver of his soul, but this was no time to mourn.


    He only wished it could have been Tail instead of Body. May you feast in hell, my most kindred self.


    Tezca forced himself to his feet. ¡°Where is Claws?¡±


    ¡°He was intent on joining the battle,¡± Legs said.


    ¡°We need to¡­ If I can¡­ Dammit.¡± Tezca shook his head. ¡°If only Head were still with us.


    ¡°Those soldiers must have arrived via teleporter. We can only assume the intruders are to blame, though I can¡¯t imagine why they would want to summon Leviathan forces. Are we certain that Yuma is not here yet?¡±


    ¡°As certain as we can be,¡± Legs said.


    ¡°He is on his way, then,¡± Tezca said. ¡°Likely in that monstrous truck of his. That gives us some four or five hours. One possibility¡­ is that the intruders are in league with Yuma. Some sort of false flag. He¡¯s always hated me.¡± Tezca drummed on his cheeks, psyching himself up. ¡°We must fight for our meal. There is no point surviving without servants. I¡¯d rather die than live like a peasant. Tail, you must go door-to-door through the residencies. Gather as many servants as you can and lead them through the abandoned tunnels. The only option left to us is the escape boat.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Legs, you and I need to go extract Claws and as many of the warriors as we can. But we need to be gone before Yuma arrives. If he sees that any of us are alive, he will deduce that Body¡¯s corpse is a deception. I will not allow Body¡¯s sacrifice to be in vain!¡±


    ¡°Self!¡± Tail cried. ¡°You can¡¯t risk yourself like that. Allow me¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going! He¡¯s my Claws, dammit. The best of you, the only one who¡¯s worth a damn! Except you, Legs. And Body¡­ Oh, Body!¡± he wailed.


    ¡°Self?¡± Tail said quietly. ¡°What of the Gracestorm? It will be impossible to leave port whilst it rages.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, shut up, shut up! Just get in the tunnels and go!¡±


    ***


    Gwil and Challe climbed down the statue and found themselves awash in green light and enveloped by madness. Screaming warriors swarmed everywhere, directionless in their terror. Red-eyed soldiers with metal bodies marched across the auditorium.


    ¡°Woah, do you know those guys, Challe?¡±


    ¡°Wha! Demons!¡± Challe screamed. ¡°Real dem-!¡±


    Gwil tackled her to the ground as laser blasts whizzed overhead. A pillar collapsed and a crucifix burst into flames. A terrible crack of thunder sounded. The entire chamber shook; dust poured from the ceiling.


    ¡°Everyone, climb!¡± Challe commanded, her voice, too, a thing from a split-open sky.


    The warriors did not need to be told. Those near the fallen statue were already scurrying up like ants on a log.


    ¡°Mar¡¯Jade,¡± Challe muttered, looking up at the burning corpse. She traced some sort of warding gesture across her chest.


    Gwil scrambled to his feet as more lasers fired, this time focused on the statue and the Malikauans gathering around it.


    ¡°Gwil! Gwil!¡±


    He grinned even as he turned around. ¡°Leira! Cort!¡±


    Gwil grabbed Challe¡¯s ankle and, keeping low, dragged her across the sandy pit to reach the others, who were huddled beneath the jade bird statue, its radiant light shining upon them. ¡°Hey, Eagle-man! I told you he¡¯s alive, Challe.¡±


    Challe scrambled forward and threw all four of her arms around the eagle-man and a green-haired lady Gwil recognized from earlier. ¡°Brother! Sister!¡± she cried.


    ¡°Hey guys,¡± Gwil said, crouching beside Cort and Leira. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Another barrage of lasers flew. Gwil watched as several shots that should¡¯ve hit the jade statue bent impossibly around it, as if deflected. Challe had said it was the corpse of her goddess.


    ¡°We kinda fucked up,¡± Leira said. ¡°Those are Leviathan stormtroopers, Gwil. They have secret hallways here filled with food, and there was a teleporter and¡ª¡±


    Red lights flashed through the auditorium. Everywhere Gwil looked, Malikauans were dying. The troopers had split into several squadrons as they crossed the chamber, herding the warriors for slaughter.


    Gwil¡¯s Mir marked something as strange about the way the stormtroopers moved, as if a design guided them.


    ¡°Right, no problem,¡± Gwil said. He plucked the snaketopus off his shoulder and planted it on Leira¡¯s. ¡°Let¡¯s go, Cort.¡±


    Gwil bolted toward the nearest squad of troopers.


    ¡°A Monarch might be coming, Gwil,¡± Cort shouted from behind. The array of shields that he¡¯d strapped to himself clattered as he ran.


    Gwil flashed him a thumbs up and then launched himself at the squad, hooking his arm around the lead soldier¡¯s neck and barreling into his comrades, knocking them to the ground in a heap.


    ¡°Wawhaaa!¡± Gwil shouted as a laser slug ripped through his shoulder. He whipped around in time to see Cort crush the spine of the trooper who¡¯d fired.


    His shoulder searing as it healed, Gwil found his footing and started jumping around on top of the pile, Nirva-stomping whoever was closest to standing up. He laughed at the ridiculous dance; it was almost like a game.


    Swinging between Gwil¡¯s footsteps, Cort delivered brutal strikes with his hammer, crumpling helmets and shattering masks.


    ¡°These guys don¡¯t stay down easy, Gwil. This is strong armor, and they¡¯re all jacked up on drugs.¡±


    Gwil nodded as he stomped a helmeted head into the ground. ¡°Split up?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cort said. He picked up a trooper¡¯s body and held it like a shield. ¡°I¡¯ll stick close to the statue. You get behind them. Focus on taking their guns away.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡±


    Gwil spotted Leira and Challe amidst several hundred warriors. They¡¯d taken up position around the jade statue, which, based on the fact that it hadn¡¯t been destroyed, was still affording the Malikauans with its uncanny protection.


    It was not enough. They were still dying in droves.


    The warriors had used chunks of debris from the collapsed ceiling to form a makeshift barrier that ran between the two statues. Many of them were holding that line.


    Gwil ran, hurdled over the barrier, and pop.


    He shrank down, not too small, about the size of a doll. That was fine¡ªhe didn¡¯t want to get thrown around too easily or get obliterated by a single laser slug.


    As he moved around the edge of the Leviathan position, making to get behind them, skulking in the eerie green lighting, Gwil reached into his pocket and pulled out his shrunken fork. ¡°Aha! Yes!¡± he cheered, brandishing it over his head.


    As he approached the next squad, Gwil noticed how the troopers had to fiddle with their weapons after they fired, folding them in half and inserting canisters into the midpoint.


    He pumped Nirva into his legs and hurled himself into the face of a trooper who was taking aim. Gwil clung to the man¡¯s head like a cat stuck on the curtains and then slammed his fork down. It harmlessly glanced off the bowl-shaped helmet, leaving the prongs bent out of shape.


    Stupid armor. The soldier tried to rip Gwil off his face. Gwil caught two of the man¡¯s fingers and, with a pulse of Nirva, snapped them both.


    Being at this size, he was a good deal stronger than when he was mouse-sized. And this soldier probably felt like an idiot for getting beaten up by a baby.


    ¡°Hallow,¡± called out a mechanical voice, one of the squad mates.


    Gwil rammed the mangled fork into the soft of the soldier¡¯s neck and then stabbed repeatedly, hammering, but the meshy material was too strong.


    ¡°Dammit.¡± He wrapped his arms around the soldier¡¯s head and then swung himself around, growing back to size at the same time.


    The soldier¡¯s neck snapped and was limp as a noodle as Gwil clobbered the rest of the soldiers with the body like it was a giant club.


    Gwil flared Nirva all through his body and started ripping the rifles out of the hands of every trooper within reach. He threw the weapons away into the heights of the auditorium¡¯s seating, except the last one, which he used to bash them in their heads.


    One soldier appeared behind him. Gwil spun and stabbed his fork¡ªwhich had remained miniaturized¡ªthrough the lens of the trooper¡¯s mask. The metal sank into an eyeball.


    Gwil glimpsed a pale face through the broken mask. Huh, that¡¯s too bad. He¡¯d been wondering if these stormtroopers were human or not.


    He smacked his palm against the protruding end of the fork, pushing it all the way in. The man, who¡¯d been screaming and writhing, crumpled, still.


    At least he¡¯d killed one person with it. But overall, the fork was a big disappointment. Maybe he needed a four-pronger.


    Gwil¡¯s Mir whispered in his head. He shrank as a wave of laser fire converged overhead, exploding in a shower of sparks.


    He¡¯d drawn the attention of three more squads. That¡¯s right, look at me, he thought as he eyed the stream of warriors attempting to make the climb up the fallen statue. About half had made it out.

 Chapter Sixty-Four – With These Hands

    Dead bodies were piling up around the statue. Every desperate soul that fell short of salvation reached out with their hand as they died, grasping at nothing. Each was like a knife through her heart.


    Challe struggled to breathe. It was all so surreal. Life was so simple while she hung from the crucifix. She¡¯d been content to the point of vacancy as she birthed storm after storm.


    She moved as if in a trance, wholly aware that two arms of her arms were not truly her own, but she kept moving, because more¡ªfar more¡ªof her people were making it to the top of the statue.


    If not for that monster of a man¡ªCort¡ªChalle doubted any of them would¡¯ve made it.


    Watching him, Challe understood why Gwil had not feared for the lives of his friends. And why he had called the Malikauan warriors weak.


    Cort fought with a fury that made Challe question his humanity. And that was when she realized that she already knew, in her heart of hearts, these three were not demons. All her doubts were dead.


    How could someone so big move so fast?


    Clad in half-melted shields, Cort would climb the statue, escorting a group of Malikauans, defending them with his body. Then he would jump down and crush any red-eyed demon that had dared to advance. He alone dictated the flow of the battle.


    When he closed with the enemy, they looked like fledglings in their attempts to match him physically. With his mighty hammer, he ruined their metallic bodies.


    Cort was covered in burns, the skin blistered and blackened. His clothes were drenched with blood. Yet he had not slowed down even a single step.


    Why? Why are they doing this for us?


    Childishly, Challe wished she could be like that. Someone who did impossible things because they chose to, not at the whim of a dead goddess. Her stomach fluttered at her blasphemy, and the joints of her extra arms ached.


    Quez emerged from the thick of the fray, dragging a wounded man.


    Challe snapped out of her spiraling thoughts, chastising herself for her cowardice.


    She stood beside her empty crucifix. The heart of the Stormwomb had become a pit of death. But then, it always was, wasn¡¯t it?


    Rivers of blood streamed from the corpses of those they¡¯d failed to save. The sand had turned into clumpy muck as a crimson pool formed. The Jade Goddess stood at the center.


    Challe¡¯s feet were stained, and her toes were sticky.


    Speaker Lall was beside her. The woman knelt, draped across a warrior with a hole in her stomach, pressing down with all her weight on the gushing wound.


    Challe ran to help Quez carry the wounded man. One of his cheeks had been melted off. Blackened strands of sinew clung to an exposed jaw. The tendons quivered with his screams. They laid him down behind the statue and Challe found herself sick at the thought that the man was lucky to have so narrowly avoided having his head blown off. Lucky.


    Absurdly, she fixated on how the blood had smeared the design of his body paint. Still, her hand was steady as she picked up a crimson-soaked rag and pressed it against the man¡¯s face. And that, that was all she could do. Useless.


    Challe¡¯s mouth opened and closed. What would she say? Sorry? It will be okay? Why? That she was the Vessel, that this poor soul might believe her, only made her feel more worthless.


    Anguish tore loose from Lall¡¯s throat. Challe met her eyes. Lall shook her head as she stood up, clutching at her own wound as she dragged the body out of the way. They were piling the dead ones outside the reach of the Goddess¡¯s meager haven.


    Quez made to return to the fight. He took a step and then faltered.


    ¡°Challe¡¯Jade, what is happening to our home?¡±


    ¡°I- I don¡¯t know, brother.¡±


    A gap parted in the battle. Through it, she saw Gwil, surrounded by the red-eyed monsters. Challe¡¯s mouth went dry as they piled on top of him, burying him. But before she could even scream, the pile exploded. Demons were flung into the air. Gwil stood in the middle with his arms raised as if in celebration, as if he¡¯d thrown all those soldiers. When Challe saw that he was smiling, she thought she¡¯d gone mad.


    ¡°Upheaval,¡± Challe said.


    The flower woman, Leira, arrived. Finally. She had the power to help. She had something to give. Like Cort, like all of them, she was a bloody mess. Her magic dust hung over the battle, shimmering like gemstones in the sky.


    Challe moved away from the wounded man to give Leira space to work. The flower in her eye was relief. The flower in her eye was a chance of survival.


    ¡°Quez, Lall. Listen,¡± Challe said. Her four hands went to each of their four shoulders. ¡°I have learned a hard truth.¡± She took a breath, the taste fouled by the stench of the dead. ¡°The Progenitor is alive. I saw the creature with my own two eyes. Luca spoke to me.¡±


    ¡°A miracle,¡± Lall groaned.


    Red bolts of fire screamed all around them. Not one had touched the Goddess. Sensing a place of safety, the snaketopus had crawled up the statue. It clung to the Goddess, its living snake-tentacles coiled around the stone baby that she cradled in the crook of her human arm.


    ¡°No,¡± Challe said. ¡°No, sister. The Progenitor was a prisoner in the Elder Warden¡¯s temple. It was living in a cage.¡± Eyes wide, she looked between Quez and Lall. ¡°Do you understand? Tezca cannot¡­ Deception poisons the air. These so-called demons have come. Look at them!¡±


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    She pointed not at the red-eyed soldiers, but at Gwil. He was a sliver of flesh amidst a tide of metal. He shrank and grew, dancing through them, at once erratic and graceful, like a moth.


    ¡°I have seen him. He laughs and smiles. He and his friends risk their lives for us, with us, without a second thought. Where is the Warden?¡±


    Leira looked up from the wounded man. He¡¯d stopped screaming, his expression content as he drew steady breaths. A fibrous white mask was stitched over his melted cheek.


    ¡°That¡¯s just how they are,¡± she said, smiling. ¡°I¡¯m Leira, by the way.¡±


    ¡°Challe,¡± she said. Her heart skipped as she realized she¡¯d adopted the name that was a bastardization of her title.


    ¡°I hope you know you¡¯re gonna be comi- Cort!¡±


    Leira shrieked and something snapped inside of Challe. As if a dam broke, the Goddess¡¯s fire surged through her body. She was on her feet before she knew it, shoving her way through the ranks of warriors. Quez was calling her back.


    Cort had been overcome. He was on his hands and knees. Blood fountained from the smoldering wound on his back. The red-eyed demons swarmed him like scavengers. They beat on him. The sound of metal cracking against bone was deafening in her ears.


    Some of the Malikauan warriors attempted to reach Cort, but the demons recognized the value of their prize and defended it fiercely.


    Vivid green crackles shattered through Challe¡¯s vision. The storm in her veins was spreading outward. Bolts of lightning filled the air. Challe reached out and took one into her hand, one of her natural ones.


    She held it like a spear, and she hurled it without thinking. Her stomach dropped. What have I done? The lightning bolt would annihilate Cort.


    Her heart remained steady. Searing blood coursed through her hand, and she commanded the lightning with her fingers. The bolt split apart into a web, and the tendrils went where she wished.


    The expulsion was blinding. Jade energy washed over the red-eyed demons. Their metal bodies melted into twisted deformities. And Challe felt¡ªknew¡ªthey too were human beings.


    Cort collapsed onto his stomach as Leira shoved past Challe. The flower woman dragged Quez behind her. They made it to Cort as the warriors formed a ring around him. In doing so, they toppled the petrified bodies of the soldiers and trampled them into ash.


    Leira and Quez heaved Cort to his feet, each of them getting under one of Cort¡¯s arms. As they limped back, Challe turned to regard the statue of the Goddess. ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered.


    No answer. No feeling. Nothing. Challe fell to her knees at the sight. The Jade Goddess stood pristine, gleaming, atop the pool of blood, corpses littered around her feet. All five of the crucifixes had been destroyed. Her sisters, her predecessors, Vessels, reduced to charred bones and dust.


    The Goddess stood pristine.


    ¡®Challe¡ªit came from you!¡¯


    She fell in with Quez and Leira. Cort¡¯s legs gave out as they reached the statue, and he fell facedown. Challe realized that even then, he¡¯d been carrying himself more than they¡¯d been carrying him.


    ¡°Goddammit, Cort,¡± Leira said as a cloud of pink and white spores enveloped them. ¡°Why are you so wide? Where are we supposed to get so much cloth? You¡¯re not the only one who¡¯s hurt, y¡¯know.¡±


    ¡°¡®M fine,¡± Cort grunted. His face was sheet-white, and he shuddered with ragged breaths. Nearly his entire body had been scorched, but the true concern was the stomach-churning wound on his lower back. It went from the base of his ribcage to his hips, a deep gouge, like a sliver sliced off by a knife. The flesh was angry red, cooked, and bone peeked through at the edges.


    Dazed, Challe watched as Leira extracted a white dress from a pack.


    ¡°Yeah, you are fine,¡± Leira said, speaking quickly. ¡°I only hope you have some money, Cort. This dress was very expensive, and I paid for it myself, and I only got to wear it once.¡± Her hands shook as she wrapped the dress around Cort¡¯s torso and tied it tight.


    ¡°Does it look like I¡¯m getting married?¡± Cort asked.


    Leira laughed. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re a perfect zombie bride.¡±


    ¡°Salvation comes!¡± Lall cried, prostrating herself.


    Challe looked up and saw the Elder Warden, his silhouette framed against the auditorium¡¯s entry way.


    He dashed into the chamber, a green blur save for the glint of his claws. Arcs of blood hung in the air as he carved through the red-eyed soldiers.


    ***


    Gwil had no hands!


    The laser guns were damn annoying. Even when he bolstered his flesh with Nirva, the bolts lingered and burned. Gwil¡¯s attempts to block and swat them away had seen his hands melted.


    He had another problem, too. He¡¯d gotten shot in the stomach earlier, and it had healed, but a part of his intestine was sticking out of the new flesh.


    Pop.


    On instinct, Gwil shrank to dodge another laser. Oo, wait. He needed to get shot again so that his stomach could re-heal properly.


    He embiggened then folded his handless arms behind his head and did a sort of belly dance, the charred strips of his clothing swaying like beads. The protuberant bit of intestine jiggled at his movements, causing a terribly unpleasant tickling sensation.


    The trooper reloaded their weapon and fired again. Gwil¡¯s entire belly disintegrated.


    ¡°Gubughawh. Thanks.¡± Gwil fell backward, blood gargling from his mouth and his gut. He focused his Nirva there and flared it with such intensity that the voices cried out. Twisting streams of vapor trailed from his body as he hastily packed all his goods inside where they belonged.


    As he did so, he realized he¡¯d made a huge mistake doing this before his hands had grown back. His fingers were just stumpy nubs, and this was delicate work.


    As best he could, he massaged flat the stringy tissue that was stitching the gaping cavity. It was a bit like working dough. Good enough.


    Gwil jumped to his feet, found the trooper who¡¯d shot him and sprinted toward them. He pumped Nirva into his leg and smashed the soldier¡¯s mask with a flying kick.


    Bright green light filled the auditorium, accompanied by sharp, successive cracks of thunder. ¡°Woo, way to go, Challe!¡± Gwil cheered as he went to hunt more soldiers.


    There weren¡¯t too many left, and most of the ones still standing didn¡¯t have guns.


    Gwil made quick work of a nearby group of three troopers. Their armor was strong, but Gwil found that a hard enough blow to the head still rocked them pretty good. Cort was right, though¡ªthey did recover quickly when the damage wasn¡¯t fatal. Gwil had already given out a few second helpings.


    He pulsed some Nirva into his hand to finish regrowing his fingers, and then pinched closed a hole that had re-opened in his stomach. Nice. No organs were visible.


    Looking down, Gwil saw a gun next to his foot. He picked it up, found the trigger, and then took aim at a trooper running across the pit.


    Pwoing!


    Gwil¡¯s eyes widened as the projectile blew through the soldier¡¯s torso, damn near ripping them in half.


    ¡°Eugh.¡± He tossed the weapon away and then turned around to see that there were barely any Malikauans left in the auditorium. Almost all of them had made it out.


    Gwil went skipping toward the jade statue, where most everyone who remained had gathered. The spring left his step when he saw all the dead bodies.


    And then he saw Cort, lying on the ground, looking really bad. He was so covered with blood that his tomato-red hair was indistinguishable.


    Something like a shadow flickered through Gwil¡¯s mind. He whipped around, eyes darting.


    There. The man moved like a skulking predator as he slaughtered the remnant Leviathan troopers. He had claw-like knives mounted to his hands.


    And then Gwil recognized the cat skull helm. He glanced over at Cort again. Leira was there¡ªhe¡¯d be fine.


    Gwil ran up to the robed fighter. ¡°Hey! Are you the Elder Warren?¡±


    The man decapitated a soldier and then turned to regard Gwil, grinning. The fangs of his helm crossed a heavily scarred face. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m hunting demons.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fuck off with that, man,¡± Gwil said.


    Quick as a flash, the Warden closed the gap and plunged his clawed fist straight through Gwil¡¯s stomach.

 Chapter Sixty-Five – Blame Is a Funny Thing

    ¡°Hey! I just fixed that,¡± Gwil said, gagging. He momentarily drew his Nirva away from his skewered stomach and filled his fist. He punched the Warden right in the jaw. The blow landed with a satisfying pop.


    Gwil shoved the Warden in the chest and jumped backward. The man¡¯s clawlike weapon tore from Gwil¡¯s belly, splattering the ground with blood and chunks of viscera.


    He looked down at his dangling guts and the waterfall of blood running down. Gwil fell back, limbs shaky as his Nirva surged to repair his disemboweled-ness.


    The Warden pounced from a low stance. Gwil rolled out of the way and wondered what organ it was that he¡¯d left behind¡ªit resembled a large bean. He didn¡¯t know what the liver looked like, but maybe that.


    Tezca strolled over, scraping his claws against one another. He crouched beside Gwil and sniffed at the air. ¡°It¡¯s been centuries since I got to fight another Hallow,¡± he said, his voice a low growl. ¡°How did you know about the Oubliette, demon? Who sent you? Who¡¯s the traitor? Where is the Spike?¡±


    Gwil had his hands folded over his stomach, keeping things from spilling out. His intestines were fusing back together like kissing worms. But something hot chewed at the still-raw skin on his fingers. He lifted his hand and flicked droplets of stomach acid into the Warden¡¯s eyes.


    Tezca chopped off the end of his own nose as his hand reflexively went to his face.


    Gwil somersaulted backward as the Warden roared in pain and drilled his claws into the ground. With his other arm, the man buried his face in the crook of his elbow.


    ¡°Ha, nice fingernails, idiot!¡± Gwil said. ¡°I thought you might be Hallowed.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Tezca hissed. ¡°I already told you I was.¡±


    The Warden¡¯s Nirva had staunched the bleeding from his nose, but it had yet to regrow. A red rash blotted around his eyes and tears streaked his cheeks.


    ¡°How did you know about the Oubliette?¡± Gwil asked.


    ¡°What kind of question is that? I live here! This is my domain. The Oubliette is under my protection.¡±


    ¡°I thought so,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Why¡¯d you feed all these people this shit about the end of the World?¡±


    The Warden stared at Gwil, his mouth hanging open. Various expressions crossed his face, but no words came out.


    ¡°Stop! Gwil, stop!¡± a voice cried. ¡°Warden Tezca, please, listen!¡±


    Gwil looked over and saw Challe running ahead of the hundred-odd Malikauan warriors that had not yet escaped to the floor above. Leira and Cort remained beside the jade eagle statue. Gwil was relieved to see that the snaketopus was there, too, alive and well.


    Tezca looked back and forth between Challe and Gwil, eyes narrowed. Gwil put his hands up.


    ¡°Vessel,¡± Tezca said, changing everything about his demeanor. ¡°Thank the Goddess you are safe.¡± He moved past her. ¡°My warriors! You have honored the warriors of old and walked the way of the illustrious Jaguar.¡± He swept his hand across the auditorium. ¡°Look how many demons you¡¯ve slain!¡±


    Gwil checked on his stomach. A nice, hardy layer of granulation tissue had formed, and things inside felt less leaky, so he was about good to go on that front. Bullshit, though, that Tezca had attacked him like that when he wasn¡¯t ready. Watching the Warden talk all grandiose-like confirmed Gwil¡¯s belief that he was a big asshole.


    ¡°Holy One,¡± Challe said, kneeling with all four hands splayed on the ground, jadestones glowing with their unnatural light. ¡°These¡­ What if¡­ I believe this man is not a demon, but a human. He has companions¡ªthey fought against the red-eyed demons with us. They saved hundreds of lives at great risk to themselves.¡±


    The Warden dramatically raised his hand and then carefully scratched at his chin with his claws, as if in thought. ¡°Humans, you say, Challe¡¯Jade? Could it be¡­ The most miraculous miracle? An end to our lonely vigil?¡±


    Tezca clasped his hands together as if in prayer¡ªthe claws sticking out haphazardly¡ªand approached Gwil, walking slowly and deferentially, his speckled green robe shimmering. ¡°Where do you hail from?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Gwil¡¯s gaze flicked over to Challe, who still knelt. She nodded emphatically.


    Gwil almost believed the Warden¡¯s act, but then he remembered the man had to be lying. Well, he¡¯d play along if that¡¯s what Challe wanted.


    ¡°I come from a legendary island called Eami,¡± Gwil said, recalling a bedtime story that Caris used to tell him. ¡°We survive in the treetops of the eternal forest that is tall enough to touch the skies. I was sent as a scout to discover if any other human tribes exist.¡±


    Tezca folded his hands over his heart. ¡°That you can even speak the name ¡®Eami¡¯ proves you are no demon.¡±


    Gwil nodded along and then stopped himself. Damn, this guy¡¯s good.


    ¡°Malikauans! I dare not hope that this is the prophesied miracle. Hope makes fools of us all. But perhaps¡­ perhaps there is a chance. We have already witnessed the First Sacrifice.¡±


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    The feather-clad warriors erupted into cheers and tears of joy.


    Tezca smiled at Gwil and held out his hand, palm up. ¡°I apologize for the misunderstanding. The Apocalypse has made me¡­ prickly.¡±


    Gwil furrowed his brow, having to awkwardly turn his hand sideways to shake the Warden¡¯s hand without getting his wrist sliced.


    Tezca turned away and Gwil flashed Challe a thumbs up.


    ¡°The demons came and Malikau prevailed!¡± Tezca said, raising his arms. More cheers answered. ¡°The Goddess has given us yet another great gift, but as your protector, I must wonder, could this be a test? Let us leave this place of triumph and death. Let us mourn those who sacrificed themselves. I must seek further revelation and-¡±


    Gwil noticed them before Tezca and was already running toward the closest group.


    Scattered throughout the chamber, some thirty Leviathan troopers had risen to their feet. The few that still had guns fired pot shots, but most of them ran for the auditorium¡¯s exit.


    Gwil caught up to a trooper, grabbed both their wrists, and pulled their arms backward, folding them inward until their shoulders were ripped from their sockets. He put his boot on the small of the soldier¡¯s back and stomped them into the ground, running them over.


    Tezca swooped past Gwil, placing himself between two fleeing soldiers. He slit both of their throats.


    Gwil shrank, ran between a soldier¡¯s legs, and then pop, embiggened, smashing his head into their crotch, knocking them upward. He caught the soldier by their legs and started spinning, building momentum and bludgeoning people as he spun faster and faster.


    Tezca followed up, executing each soldier that Gwil knocked down by plunging his claws through their hearts.


    Gwil let go of the soldier¡¯s legs, hurling the body into Tezca, who took the brunt of the impact in the form of a helmet to the face. His nose started gushing blood again.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± Gwil said. ¡°I got too dizzy.¡±


    Gwil shrank and flung himself to the auditorium entrance, where the first of the troopers were about to make it through the doors.


    Gwil caught the trooper by the collar and yanked them back, then placed himself in the doorway. The soldiers continually threw themselves at him. They¡¯d become clumsy and stupid compared to earlier.


    He kept his Nirva burning in his fists and kept on beating them back. Tezca made it to the entrance hall and began carving his way through.


    Gwil observed the way the man fought as he slaughtered the soldiers. So fluid, he killed without interrupting his movements, like he was a dancer. The Warden kept himself low to the ground, leaning far forward and practically swimming with that momentum. He often took steps on all-fours, stabbing his claws into the ground to change directions.


    Fancy-looking, but nothing special.


    ¡°Cool! What¡¯s your Invoke?¡± Gwil said as he socked a trooper in the face, shattering their mask. A woman¡¯s face was revealed, the skin gray and pruny, withered. Grimacing, he flared his Mir and saw her. The aura was dark, not black, but blank, empty. She was marred by a mess of crisscrossing golden scars, like the surface of a well-used cutting board.


    Tezca stabbed the last soldier and then flicked the body off his claws. The Warden grinned at Gwil. It was nasty the way his human teeth blended with the skull helm¡¯s fangs. ¡°I¡¯ll just say it''s unrelated to my combat prowess. I¡¯m all-natural.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay. I can shrink.¡±


    They made their way back toward the jade statue, where all the Malikauans knelt with heads down. Many of the warriors had scattered, as if they¡¯d made to join the fight and then seen that there was no need.


    ¡°Rise, my warriors!¡± Tezca said. ¡°I will not have you kneel on this day. You are all heroes who I would¡¯ve been proud to have by my side as the Jaguars stood against the demons of the Apocalypse. Let us go above and inform our brothers and sisters that they are safe, that we are victorious! Then we shall feast with our new friends, and I will determine what path the Goddess demands we walk.¡±


    The warriors cheered with such genuine joy that it filled Gwil with an urge to strangle the Warden.


    Instead, he ran over to Cort and Leira. As soon as he got there, the snaketopus crawled up Gwil¡¯s leg and settled on top of his shoulder. Gwil patted one of the snake heads, and then the others fought for the position.


    ¡°What the fuck is going on?¡± Leira hissed. ¡°Have we actually made nice with that asshole? Because Gwil, I don¡¯t think¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, no,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I dunno what¡¯s going on, but we were both lying, and we both know it. Just follow Challe¡¯s lead. But Cort, are you okay? You look like you¡¯re turning into a mushroom.¡±


    Stringy white stuff coated his whole body, as if he¡¯d gone swimming in a spider¡¯s nest. The flesh that peeked out beneath was red and crusty and bubbly. He also wore Leira¡¯s dress tied around his waist like a skirt.


    Leira laughed. ¡°That white stuff is from my flower. It¡¯ll help with all his burns.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Cort said, making to get up. ¡°Just- Wuhohhoho! Arghhhh!¡± He clenched his teeth and hissed through them. ¡°I just need help getting up, that¡¯s all.¡± He held out both his hands.


    Gwil took them and, with a pulse of Nirva, lifted Cort to his feet.


    The remaining warriors were climbing up the statue. Tezca had jumped up to the top and was ushering them out, spouting nonsense the whole time. A bunch more Malikauans could be seen up above, gathered around the hole.


    The three of them moved toward there but kept some distance. Leira passed Gwil two tubes of ztuff. He sucked one down and put the other in his pocket.


    ¡°We lost our stove, Gwil,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°No!¡±


    ¡°Gwil, is that guy strong?¡± Cort asked, eyes on the Warden.


    ¡°Nah. He won¡¯t be a problem.¡±


    ¡°I saw him gut you like a fish,¡± Leira said. ¡°By the way, you should be using your Nirva to block damage like that. You let yourself get booby-trapped earlier, too.¡±


    ¡°I just wasn¡¯t ready! I can beat him. Don¡¯t even worry about that.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Cort said. ¡°¡®Cause if the Monarch comes, that¡¯s a way bigger concern. Leira, do you know this King Yuma?¡±


    ¡°Yuma,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Yuma, Yuma, Yuma.¡±


    Leira tilted her head from side to side. ¡°I know I¡¯ve heard the name, but I can¡¯t remember.¡±


    Cort scoffed.


    ¡°Just because I was- There¡¯s a lot of Monarchs, okay? And I was never very studious.¡±


    ¡°Yuma will come,¡± Gwil said. ¡°An axolotl told me. I think they want the Erithist Spike."


    ¡°No shit!¡± Cort said. ¡°They¡¯d burn a continent for half as much Erithist. And Gwil, you need to start using your brain a little more. Listen. Think. People died because you¡¯re running around like a lunatic.¡±


    Gwil blinked and his eyes fixed on the dead bodies littered across the floor. His stomach knotted up. ¡°Yeah. You¡¯re right. I¡¯m sorry. You did amazing, though.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize to me,¡± Cort said. ¡°Whatever. We need to get the fuck out of here.¡±


    ¡°Cort,¡± Leira said. ¡°This was our fault. We let them in.¡±


    ¡°Our? You- Argh! I know, dammit! What¡¯s the play?¡±


    ¡°Challe is gonna handle everything¡ªshe¡¯s awesome. She can shoot lightning out of her hands. All we gotta do is back her up.¡±


    They fell into the back of the line and made their way up the statue.


    ¡°Welcome, saviors,¡± the Warden said as they climbed through the hole, back into the atrium. The storm¡¯s growing power made the walls of this grand temple feel very thin.

 Chapter Sixty-Six – Traitor

    Gwil had never seen so many people at once. Packed shoulder to shoulder, they filled the four terraced balconies of Malikau¡¯s grand atrium. The air buzzed with nervous, excited energy, thousands of torches flickering as if to match. The hair on the back of Gwil¡¯s neck stood on end.


    Word of all that happened had spread through the whole sanctuary¡ªa battle against the fearsome demons, the discovery of human survivors from a faraway land.


    On the atrium¡¯s fourth level, there was a bridge that extended from a balcony to the center of the expansive space, ending in a wide circular platform that hung in the open air. There stood Gwil, Cort, Leira, Challe, the Elder Warren, Quez the Eagleman, and a host of other Malikauans. A place of great honor, apparently.


    The warriors who¡¯d been involved in the battle gathered on the ground floor, surrounding the hole formed that had been formed by the fallen statue as if it were something to be revered.


    ¡°Hey Leira, where¡¯d the snaketopus go?¡± Gwil asked.


    She shrugged while shushing him.


    ***


    On the third floor was a small, special house, nestled among the other stacked residencies. That place, connected to their secret tunnel network, served as a hidden abode of Tezca and the Jaguars.


    Inside, Tezca¡ªthe true Elder Warden¡ªand Legs sat at a small dining table beside the window, peering out through the half-drawn blinds.


    Tezca scraped the last slivers of pasta from his bowl of spaghetti, clenching his teeth against the grating screech of metal against porcelain. How, how, how did some of the strands always break? No matter how gently he placed them in the pot, how carefully he stirred.


    He slammed the polished bowl down on the table. ¡°Legs, if you kick me in the shin one more fucking time, I swear to every starborn god I will welcome your Second Generation counterpart.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, Self,¡± Legs said, grimacing as he swung his legs out from under the table, twisting himself sideways so he could still look out the window. ¡°My legs are just so damn long.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re wearing your metal clogs, and you know I bruise easily,¡± Tezca snarled. He took a deep breath, his cheeks jiggling as his expression softened. ¡°My apologies, Legs. If anything, I wish your legs were even longer. I am just on edge.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s perfectly understandable, Self,¡± Legs said. ¡°I mean, this is¡­¡±


    ¡°A complete and unmitigated disaster!¡± Tezca yanked the cord to open the blinds fully. No one would see them¡ªall the servants were completely captivated. ¡°What the fuck does Claws think he¡¯s doing right now? I smell a mishap worse than mustard topping a chocolate souffle.¡±


    ***


    Gwil was getting antsy and angry. Leira kept elbowing him in the ribs as he fidgeted and scowled.


    But all these people¡­ they were so happy and excited. Stomping their feet, singing songs. Gwil couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that everything was about to come crashing down on top of them.


    Gwil didn¡¯t understand the Warden¡¯s game, or why Challe was making them take part in it, but he hated it. What he wanted to do was grab the Warden, take a dive off this platform, and drive that asshole¡¯s head through the floor. That would be best.


    He kept trying to catch Challe¡¯s eye, but she¡¯d only shake her head while staring forward.


    Finally, the Warden stepped up to the front edge of the platform and raised his arms. The man was still missing the end of his nose. Gwil figured he left it unhealed on purpose to make himself look tough.


    Considering their number and their rowdiness, the sudden hush that smothered the crowd was disconcerting. A succession of shrill thunderclaps rang out, like a bunch of glassware falling out of a cabinet. Inside the atrium, with the ceiling reaching almost to the surface, the storm had a terrific presence. The piercing, visceral tones put a shiver in Gwil¡¯s bones. Even the echoes snapped as sharp as cracking whips. But the thunder ebbed back to its steady rumble with something akin to a sigh. Outside, facing the sky, it must have been incredible.


    ¡°Hear how the Gracestorm speaks to me as she reaches her peak,¡± the Elder Warden cried. He spoke into a big cone-shaped thing that made his voice sound throughout the atrium. ¡°The Gracestorm, the true form of our blessed Goddess, who swore herself to me after I saved all your ancestors from the heinous demons of the Apocalypse.


    ¡°I have heard many call my victory a miracle. I resent that. Frankly, I find it offensive. That was something hard-fought, something I earned. That is why the Goddess knelt before me and named me protector of humanity¡¯s last. We are a sacred people.¡±


    Gwil nudged Cort and made a yapping gesture with his hand. Cort smirked, then clutched at his wound and audibly winced, drawing glares from a few of the Malikauans that they shared the platform with.


    ¡°Today, my beloved Malikauans, I thought I might kneel myself, kneel before our brave warriors. For they have fought off a terrible threat! They have slaughtered demons! Yes, you¡¯ve heard true. On this day, demons invaded our sanctuary.


    ¡°Today, my beloved Malikauans, I thought I might celebrate with you. For we believed we discovered humans from the outside. Survivors from another haven.¡± He turned sideways, gesturing towards Gwil, Cort, and Leira.


    The crowd cheered and then cut silent again at the Warden¡¯s raised fist.


    ¡°Alas, our World is not so kind. It is devilish.¡± He raised his voice and made it rougher. ¡°The Goddess has informed me of treachery. These humans are monsters wearing masks! An unstoppable horde of demons will invade our home! We must flee Malikau, all of us. The Goddess will bless us with a new sanctuary!¡±


    Gwil clenched his fists as the air rippled with the despair of ten thousand torn-out hearts. Something in their wails spurred him to use Mir. Slit-shaped wounds opened in the air all throughout the atrium. From those red-black gashes emerged greedy tendrils of Yalda¡¯blood. The tentacles coiled around so many throats.


    ***


    Tezca and Legs both applauded.


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    ¡°Bravo, bravo, Claws,¡± Tezca said. ¡°A brilliant spin. Inspired. You know, Legs, I always thought Claws was a bit¡­ not stupid, but brutish. Clueless. Always stabbing himself in the face with his own weapons is¡­¡± He shook his head, jowls swinging. ¡°But this, this would be worthy of Head. See, we really don¡¯t need him.¡±


    ¡°We will be able to escape with so many of the servants!¡± Legs said. ¡°More than will even fit on the escape boat.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that out loud, Legs,¡± Tezca said, wiping his mouth with a silk napkin. ¡°I know it¡¯s just us here, but it¡¯s uncouth to speak of such things so brazenly. Hmm¡­ I hope Claws knows that we need to go retrieve the Goddess¡¯s corpse.¡±


    ***


    ¡°We must remember¡ªthe Gracestorm is the true embodiment of the Jade Goddess,¡± the Elder Warden continued. ¡°Yes, we revere our Vessels. We owe them so much.¡±


    Nuh-uh. Gwil pushed his way forward. Challe caught him by the wrist and shook her head.


    ¡°But the Vessel is not infallible. The Vessel is not the Goddess herself. And our precious First Sacrifice, Challe¡¯Jade, Sixth Maker, has been corrupted by demons! Their human guises have deceived her eyes, and their forked tongues whisper in her ears! She is a victim, yes, but she is a traitor to Malikau! Challe¡¯Jade has defiled our sanctuary.¡±


    Those words outraged the Malikauans. Gwil could feel that some few aimed their vitriol at the Warden¡ªthey believed Challe.


    ***


    Legs buried his face in his hands.


    Tezca tore the blinds down from the window and stomped on them. ¡°What the fucking fuck is he doing, that goddamn idiot? Pitting us against the Vessel? This will cause a riotous rampage. Why are you still sitting there, Legs? We need to go stop him!¡±


    ***


    ¡°Liar!¡± Challe screamed. Her voice¡­


    Gwil stuck a finger in his ear and fiddled with it. The sensation he felt was like when the ear unclogged after days of being water-logged. But then he realized the whooshing whisper came from the sudden absence of the constantly rumbling thunder. The tension that had gripped his body¡ªperhaps even from the moment they stepped foot in these lands¡ªwithout his noticing¡­ vanished.


    ¡°My people! For centuries, Tezca has deceived us all!¡±


    With the cadence of her words, the thunder screamed back into existence. Gwil could feel his eyes vibrating in their sockets.


    ¡°He has murdered a thousand souls for nothing! And he calls them sacrifices. I found the Progenitor in the Warden¡¯s temple! The sacred creature spoke to me and called me by name.¡±


    Leira cupped her hands around Gwil¡¯s ear and whisper-shouted, ¡°She doesn¡¯t even know about the hidden tunnels and the teleporter.¡±


    Gwil shook his head. He didn¡¯t know what was so special about a silly axolotl, but Challe¡¯s words had a terrible impact. As if a switch had been flipped, the already enraged crowd erupted into full-blown, violent chaos. Gwil watched as a man fell, limbs flailing, from the third-floor balcony.


    Metal flashed. Tezca slashed at Challe. He missed her and sliced off the ear of the unfortunate man beside her. The spillage of blood broke the fragile tension that had gripped the platform.


    At the same time, Challe rose into the air. Her jadestones gleamed so bright that it hurt to look at them, and they left a fan of afterimages. Dark clouds wreathed her body, trailing in her wake as she soared away from the platform.


    Quez pushed past Gwil to run down the platform¡¯s bridge. He cradled the head of the wounded man against his chest.


    Leira grabbed Gwil¡¯s arm and shouted, ¡°I think she bungled it.¡±


    ¡°Eh, yeah, fuck this,¡± Gwil said. Pop.


    He darted through the tangle of frantic legs, crossing the platform. Pop.


    Gwil grew back, face to face with the Warden. He fisted the man¡¯s collar with both hands and then smashed his forehead into the Warden¡¯s nose. Time to take that dive.


    ***


    ¡°There are no demons!¡± Challe screamed into what seemed a void. Like when she was a child, screaming into her pillow.


    She was losing herself. She could not hear her own voice, could not even see, save the silhouettes that shadowed her swaddle of churning clouds and flashing jade light.


    Brother against brother, sister against sister. I am a storm, a thing of ruin. I have sown nothing but strife. And for what? Truth? What was that worth?


    She¡¯d hoped¡­ to salvage everything. But it all crumbled at her touch. Their life in Malikau was an illusion. Challe thought to dispel it with honesty and transparency. But that illusion had become far more real than some foreign, unwelcome truth.


    An illusion, no matter how precious, was still an illusion, so fragile when held against truth¡¯s blind hammer. Brutal nails were being driven into her people. Their words rang in her head, little scraps of madness.


    ¡®You would trust a mortal above the Goddess?¡¯


    ¡®The Goddess serves Tezca!¡¯


    ¡®Challe¡¯Jade is the Goddess! She was the First Sacrifice!¡¯


    ¡®I know you shat in my tomato garden, you bastard!¡¯


    ¡®The Jaguars slayed Apocalypse itself!¡¯


    Still, Challe felt compelled to share her worthless words. The flood had begun. ¡°The World has not ended! Millions of humans still live all throughout the World. We are prisoners of a deceiver! He has stolen so much¡­¡±


    The criers rang their bells as they ran up and down the balconies.


    ¡°Tlal¡¯Jade is dead! Tlal¡¯Jade is dead! A new Vessel must be born! Everyone is to be present in the Stormwomb by midday! Derelicts will be subject to early execution!¡±


    Yanna, fifteen years old, awakened to those words. She buried her face in her pillow until it was difficult to breathe. The fabric was crusty with the tears she¡¯d shed through the night.


    Two days ago, her father died. They¡¯d been eating breakfast. He¡¯d been laughing as Yanna told him a story about their neighbor. And then his spoonful of porridge dropped from a shaking hand. And, just like that, he was dead.


    The surgeon told Yanna it was a tumor in his head. Sudden. Painless, he¡¯d said. The surgeon had not seen the way her father looked at her, eyes twitching, lips caving inward.


    Yanna sat up in bed. Home looked the same as ever, and it made her want to claw her eyes out.


    She was alone. No one. Her mother had died giving birth to her.


    ¡®Thank the Goddess¡¯, her people loved to say¡­


    Yanna made her way to the Stormwomb. She became a part of the slow-moving tide of frightened fools. Finally, in a daze, she reached her seat in one of the auditorium¡¯s uppermost rows.


    Warden Tezca and the Jaguars stood beside the Goddess, at the center of the crucifixes. Tlal¡¯Jade, Fifth Maker, her corpse fresh, had been moved to her new position in the ring.


    The number of those still entering thinned. The ritual would soon begin. And with it, so much death.


    At the edge of the pit, a towering pyre burned, hungry. The Elder Warden¡¯s claws glistened in the firelight.


    Luca the Progenitor died for this. Five hundred years ago, the sacred creature, a servant of the Goddess, gave its life to transform the first generation of Malikauans. Every one of the ancestors drank a single drop of Luca¡¯s blood, a single drop of the Goddess¡¯s blessing.


    The Progenitor died in giving the gift, and the ancestors became carriers of divinity waiting to bloom. In the centuries since, the blessing was diluted. It remained in their bloodlines as a scant miracle.


    And so, the ritual consisted of execution after execution. Sacrifices in search of the Goddess¡¯s blessing. Until someone was reborn as the Vessel. The number required increased with the passing of each Maker.


    Mar¡¯Jade, First Maker, brimming with the Goddess¡¯s essence, was named the First Sacrifice. A century later, the birth of the Second Maker demanded twenty-seven deaths. The Third, one hundred and sixty-two. Tlal¡¯Jade was the nine hundred and thirty-third. Today, they predicted thousands.


    The Elder Warden raised his arms. The crowd ceased its nervous muttering. ¡°Who would become Challe¡¯Jade, the Sixth Maker? Who would have the honor of being the First Sacrifice?¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    And Yanna found herself descending the stairs with frightening haste.


    She knelt in the soft sand. The Elder Warden stood behind her. The metal blade touched her throat. It was not as cold as she¡¯d expected¡­


    So many lives sacrificed to power the Gracestorm, their lone defense against a ruined world riddled with demonkind. Challe seethed at how they¡¯d all¡­ given so much away.


    She hung there in the air, enveloped by the storm that flowed from her body. And she wondered¡­ Maybe Malikau needed to face a reckoning. But not like this. Please, not like this, not by my hand.


    ***


    ¡°I can¡¯t fucking believe this,¡± Tezca said to Legs. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s even worth going to save Claws after that stunt.¡±

 Chapter Sixty-Seven – A Friend in Need

    When a third person was thrown off the idiotic, railing-less platform, Leira decided she¡¯d had enough. She grabbed Cort, and they hurried across the bridge. Leira trailed red spores in her wake, which she used to whisk everyone else off the platform. Then she deadened the spores and left them to their own devices¡ªin this case mindless panic.


    This area was cordoned off, so they were alone on the balcony save a few scattering Malikauans. There was also a railing. She and Cort leaned over it, looking down at the shitshow.


    Leira looked for Gwil but couldn¡¯t find him through the mess of stacked architecture. General mobbish savagery engulfed the balconies and at the bottom of the atrium, where all the Malikauan warriors were gathered, a full-on battle had broken out.


    It looked like they¡¯d even split themselves based on their convictions, for it was not an indiscriminate melee, but two distinct forces clashing against each other along a line of division.


    ¡°Remember I called these people xenophobes?¡± Leira said, yelling over the thunder and the chaos.


    ¡°No,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Well, I did. And now I know that they¡¯re also zealots, which is just as annoying.¡±


    ¡°Is it their fault, though?¡± Cort said. ¡°Aren¡¯t they brainwashed?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a fucking philosopher, Cort.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re the one who- whatever. What¡¯s up with her?¡±


    He pointed at Challe, who still floated in midair. It looked like she was wearing a gown made of storm clouds and emblazoned with green lightning. Quite entrancing, really. Leira couldn¡¯t tell what the woman was doing, but it didn¡¯t matter. She¡¯d clearly failed to present her evidence in a way that the populace found palatable.


    ¡°She probably blames herself for destroying her home and making her people kill each other. It¡¯s not her fault, of course, but it probably feels like it is. She must be really going through it. That¡¯s an interesting way of coping, though.¡±


    Cort grunted.


    ¡°You know Gwil is gonna get her to come with us, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±


    ¡°She saved your life, too,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°I know! I didn¡¯t say anything bad. I was just asking. Why do you think she¡¯s got four arms though?¡±


    Leira moved away from the balcony and had taken a dozen steps when she realized Cort was still ten paces behind her. What remained of his clothing hung in tattered strips, many of which were melded to his skin.


    She put her hand on her hip. Step, gasp, wince. Step, gasp, wince. That was his pattern. All the backpacks and gear probably weren¡¯t helping.


    ¡°Gimme more of that pink stuff,¡± Cort said.


    ¡°No,¡± Leira snapped. ¡°I won¡¯t have you developing a narcotic addiction on my conscience. And I especially don¡¯t want you waking me up in the middle of the night asking for a fix.¡± She yawned. ¡°Fucking hell, I¡¯m exhausted.¡±


    ¡°Are you kidding me? I¡¯m missing a chunk from my back the size of a whole ham. The only relief is the pain from the rest of my burns.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Just a little bit.¡± Leira puffed out a small dose of pink spores, which Cort sucked up like a vacuum cleaner. Tsk, tsk.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Cort asked, moving along much more quickly¡ªand quietly¡ªnow.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m thinking we¡¯re about done here, yeah? The Leviathan troops are dealt with, so we¡¯re clear there. We have the Erithist Spike¡ªthat¡¯s a major jackpot. Once Gwil kills that cat guy, I say we let these people clean up their own mess. They¡¯ll be better off that way, and maybe we can get out before Yuma shows up.¡±


    ¡°Uh, Leira, the king will be coming for the Spike. He¡¯s gonna kill all these people when he doesn¡¯t find it.¡±


    ¡°Aw, fuck! I didn¡¯t think of that. Well, let¡¯s just see what happens. Gwil might forget¡ªhe¡¯s not that smart.¡±


    They turned down a small, torch-lit hallway, which had a staircase leading down. Quez was sitting in the corner of the landing, huddled with the poor sap who¡¯d gotten his ear sliced off.


    Leira gave Quez an encouraging pat on the head as she passed, then scurried down the steps.


    ¡°Wait! Flower witch! Help him. Please.¡±


    Leira turned around. ¡°Since you asked so nicely.¡± She climbed back up the steps and leaned over the petrified, bleeding man. He clutched a crimson-soaked rag to his wound. When Leira reached out to move his arm away, the man seized up, stiff as a statue.


    Leira rolled her eyes as Quez pleaded with the man and tugged at his wrist.


    When he finally relented, Leira examined the wound. ¡°It¡¯s a nice, clean cut.¡± She sprinkled the gaping hole with white spores. ¡°The scar won¡¯t be too bad.¡± She dusted off her hands. ¡°C¡¯mon, Cort.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Quez said, scrambling down the stairs after them. ¡°Please, I need your help. My people are killing each other. I¡¯ve sworn an oath to protect them.¡±


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    ¡°Do it, then,¡± Cort said.


    Quez took off his eagle headdress and clutched it to his chest. ¡°I¡¯m too weak. But that doesn¡¯t mean- they don¡¯t deserve to die because of my failings. Please, you two are incredible.¡± He knelt in front of them, in the middle of the stairs. ¡°I need your help.¡±


    ¡°That depends,¡± Leira said. ¡°Do you think we¡¯re demons?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t beg,¡± Cort grunted. ¡°Also, our friend is gonna kill your leader, so.¡±


    Quez jumped to his feet and proceeded down the stairs ahead of them. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re demons. Even if you are, I wouldn¡¯t care. You fought for my warriors. But this is all above me.¡± He stopped and replaced his headdress. ¡°I am sworn to Challe¡¯Jade above all else. My loyalty is hers. I believe what she believes. But¡­ brothers and sisters are killing brothers and sisters. I won¡¯t be able to live with myself if I don¡¯t do everything I can to stop it.¡±


    ¡°Fine, fine,¡± Leira said. ¡°We¡¯ll try to stop this idiotic holy war.¡±


    They headed for the atrium¡¯s ground floor.


    ***


    Both upside-down, Gwil and the Warden plummeted. Even as Tezca slashed Gwil¡¯s back to ribbons¡ªwith the claws scraping against his spine¡ªGwil kept his hands clamped around the man¡¯s head.


    They crashed through a slatted wood ceiling then hit a pavestone floor headfirst¡ªTezca¡¯s head. There was a crack and a splatter. The Warden¡¯s cat skull helm broke into bits and the top of his head caved inward, crumpled like a rotten apple.


    Gwil saw the man¡¯s eyes roll back, and he started foaming at the mouth.


    Easy. I can end this right now, Gwil thought, before discovering that his body was paralyzed except for the fingers in his right hand. They fluttered, brushing against the hem of the Warden¡¯s robe.


    The two of them both lay there, covered in broken pieces of wood, flopping like fish out of water while waiting for their Nirva to heal the worst of their injuries.


    They¡¯d landed in a small courtyard, somewhere on the atrium¡¯s second level. The rectangular space was enclosed by vine-covered lattice, and a fountain stood in the middle.


    Gwil rose first, a bit twitchy but mostly in control. The Warden lay still, the crown of his skull and his face both bloody and misshapen.


    Dragging one leg, Gwil approached. Easy. I can end this right now. He sent Nirva into his bad leg¡ªit came alive with fiery sensation¡ªand then raised his boot.


    Quick as a cat, the Warden sprang to life and sliced off Gwil¡¯s other foot.


    Gwil fell back onto his ass and aimed the hose of spewing blood at Tezca¡¯s face. ¡°You possum piece of shit!¡±


    ¡°Animals indentured combat,¡± the Warden said, rolling away from the stream of blood. He was still on the floor, clumsy and scrambling, his limbs out of whack.


    Gwil flipped back onto his foot with a back handspring and then folded his leg against his knee to achieve balance.


    That felt familiar; he smiled, remembering. About a year before she died, Caris had smashed Gwil¡¯s foot and three of his toes with a hammer because he¡¯d hidden an anaconda in her pillowcase. But Gwil had only done that because she locked him in the shed with a jaguar.


    Arms held out at his sides, he hopped furiously toward the Warden.


    Tezca drew himself into a crawling sort of prowl. He swept outward in an arc toward Gwil¡¯s weaker side.


    Gwil saw him do this same move earlier. The Warden was feinting low, and then he was going to jump up and strike high.


    Pumping his arms, Gwil launched himself off his one foot and then pop, pop. He shrank¡ªhis small body hurtling with the momentum of his jump¡ªthen unshrank to stomp on the top of the Warden¡¯s head just as he made to rise.


    Tezca kept himself from faceplanting by stabbing his claws into the pavestones.


    Gwil looked down at the tugging sensation in his ankle. His eyes widened upon seeing how much of his foot had grown back. ¡°Oh, yeah!¡± Pop.


    He had forgotten how quickly he could heal when he was small. Fascinated, he watched the bone grow, the tendons twist and stitch, the skin unfurl. So fast, like a plant growing at superspeed.


    Then something filled the entirety of his vision. Gwil looked up at Tezca¡ªwho¡¯d finally managed to stand and was spinning in place¡ªand gasped. Gwil had become way tinier than he ever had before.


    The green-robed man stood as tall as a mountain; the latticed walls of this place as wide as the horizon. Gwil was way smaller than an ant, smaller than a gnat even. Too small to do anything useful. He considered trying to get inside the Warden¡¯s ear, but he didn¡¯t want to take his chances with those claws at this size.


    No need to get fancy, anyway. The Warden had Nirva, but he didn¡¯t use it well¡ªSheriff Jackson was way more skilled. Tezca barely even strengthened his attacks. It was like he didn¡¯t have enough.


    Pop. Gwil embiggened. The Warden whipped around at the sound.


    The man¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°Y-your foot? How?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Gwil lifted his foot and wiggled his fresh pink toes.


    Tezca hastily covered his lumpy head with his hands and, in doing so, sliced open his cheek with his claws.


    ¡°Bahaha! Clumsy idiot. You suck at healing.


    ¡°I- I merely choose not to b-baste energy on kinesthetic healing.¡±


    But Gwil saw how one of his eyes had sunk lower than the other and he was slurring his words. He hadn¡¯t even fixed his brain fully.


    The Warden clenched his fists at his side. His face turned red and a vein bulged in his forehead. Unsure of what the man was doing, Gwil narrowed his eyes. Then he saw a scab forming over the glistening slash on his cheek.


    ¡°Bahaha! You need a scab for that little cut?¡±


    The Warden growled and crouched into his catlike stance. ¡°You¡¯re not with Yuma, are you?¡±


    ¡°What? No. What?¡±


    ¡°I am willing to proffer you a deal.¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Give me the Erithist Spike and I will let you and your compassions leave.¡±


    ¡°How ¡®bout this? We go downstairs, I take the Erithist Spike and nail you to one of the crucifixes. Then, you explain to all your people how you lied to them, and they throw tomatoes at you while you die.¡±


    ¡°But why are you even here? You¡¯ve already stolen the Spike. You can just leave, and then¡ª¡±


    ¡°Final offer,¡± Gwil cut in. ¡°See, I already know I¡¯m gonna beat you. You¡¯re weak ¡®cause you¡¯ve been hiding here for five hundred years. I¡¯m more interested in making sure you tell all the Malikauans the truth.¡± He grinned. ¡°I¡¯m gonna make you apologize.¡±


    ¡°Apologize?¡± the Warden hissed. ¡°I am a savior! Look at all the slaughter you¡¯ve wrought. You¡¯ve done more damage to Malikau than any mythical demon ever would¡¯ve.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s your fault.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t even have the Spike, do you?¡± the Warden asked. ¡°One of your companions has already escaped with it. Anything else would be lunacy.¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± Gwil said. Then he charged him, making no effort to dodge as the Warden plunged both sets of claws into Gwil¡¯s shoulders. He grabbed the Warden¡¯s wrists, locking down the man¡¯s arms.


    The Warden lost his footing as Gwil plowed into him and then kept going. They crashed through the lattice, emerging onto the balcony.


    There were a handful of mobbing Malikauans there, and they fled screaming as Gwil drove the Warden backwards, sprinting at full speed until the Warden¡¯s back slammed into a sturdy stone column.


    Gwil laughed as he filled his forehead with Nirva and began bashing his head into Tezca¡¯s face. Bones cracked and blood sprayed. The Warden writhed, causing Gwil to smash into his jaw. It flapped loose and Gwil¡¯s subsequent attacks knocked several teeth out.


    A flabby arm closed around Gwil¡¯s neck, locking him in a chokehold and wrenching him backward. A pair of metal objects clobbered Gwil in the face. As he fell back, he saw they were shoes, attached to two very long legs, and a man who was doing a handstand.

 Chapter Sixty-Eight – In the Thick of It

    The long legs were a blur, a furious flurry as the metallic clogs walloped Gwil in the face. His body was being squeezed¡ªsmothered¡ªby what he¡¯d determined was an extremely large person. A mountain of a man.


    Pop.


    Gwil shrank down into his legs, vanishing out of the chokehold. He landed on the floor in the shadow of the enormous man.


    ¡°Impervious Jello Technique!¡± he bellowed.


    Gwil ran¡ªas fast as his little legs could carry him¡ªas the shadow narrowed, racing against him. He was too slow, this man too wide. The belly flop would consume him.


    He stopped, raised his arms over his head and pumped them¡ªand his knees¡ªfull of Nirva, holding against the formidable mass of flesh as if it were a collapsing ceiling.


    All he managed to do was create a sort of tent. A copious blanket of fat fell around the place where Gwil stood, enveloping him.


    Elbows and knees shaking, straining with everything he had¡­ Nope. Gwil collapsed. He was devoured by the hefty, silk-clad robes.


    He thrashed¡ªkicking, punching, scratching¡ªbut it was ineffectual no matter how much Nirva he expelled. The girth was too robust. To move even the slightest bit required tremendous effort.


    It was the worst sort of prison. But Gwil was thankful for the protection afforded him by his captor¡¯s silk robe, though the fabric was damp with sweat and stank of pork. To be buried beneath a nude belly of this magnitude would¡¯ve been unpleasant and sticky. He did wish he¡¯d fallen face down, though.


    What to do? His first inclination was to start yelling, but there was no way sound could pierce this flabby mountain.


    Pop.


    In the instant of growth, Gwil could feel his limbs pushing through layers of thick, sproingy flesh. It reminded him of dredging the swamp in Guice¡¯s backyard.


    Gwil immediately regretted his decision. So much more of him was being crushed now, and he was pressing back harder against the weight¡ªa futile, detrimental resistance. The sweaty silk clung like tape to his whole body.


    It was nice to breathe, though. He turned his head away and took a few gulping gasps, as much as he could with his ribs being smushed. The Elder Warren was lying next to him, groaning, face beaten to a pulp. And there were the metal clogs walking across the floor.


    ¡°Ope! Hello there, you vicious little cretin. Did you burn my kitchen? Do you have any idea how many rare ingredients you destroyed?¡±


    Gwil gasped upon seeing the huge man¡¯s face. All three men looked the same except that they were different shapes and sizes. The metal-shoed one was gaunt in the face and lanky, though his torso was short¡ªall his height was in his legs. The one Gwil knew, with the claws, was more normally proportioned. And the one sitting on top of Gwil resembled a sea cow. He was at least four times wider than the others and his cheeks looked like balloons. But they all had the same nose and eyes, and they were all bald save for the single stuck-up peak of hair in the middle of their heads.


    ¡°Back away, my lovelies, back away,¡± the large man said, waving his hands. ¡°Everything is under control. Run away and go help your fellows, or something. This demon you see below me is dead.¡±


    There was some yelling and the sound of many footsteps. Gwil craned his neck and saw a bunch of Malikauans running away.


    One of Gwil¡¯s arms was completely trapped, and the other was pinned at the elbow. ¡°Get offa me!¡± He smacked his fist against the rotund belly, but even with Nirva he couldn¡¯t muster any force.


    The man ignored him and said, ¡°Claws, what in the hells were you thinking? Look what you¡¯ve done! Look how many servants you¡¯ve cost us.¡±


    ¡°Oh, elude me, industrious Self and all your indicate wisdom,¡± the claw-man said, his speech further warped by his swollen face. ¡°I only fought off an entire Leviathan army my byself. Oh, and let¡¯s not forget how the Vessel turned traitress. But please, imbibe me, Oh Wise Self. What should I have done deferentially?¡±


    ¡°You should not have given that speech,¡± the metal-shoed man muttered.


    ¡°Hey! Are you guys twins or something? Or triplets, I mean,¡± Gwil said. He had to tilt his head all the way back to see, so his view of the conversation was upside down.


    Ignored again, Gwil was jostled by jiggling as the immense man raised his arm to hold up a finger. ¡°Try to use simpler vocabulary, Claws. I think your brain is scrambled. And I think I can see part of it peeking out. But yes, that speech was obscenely stupid. Strong start, shaky middle, abhorrent ending.


    ¡°Please tell me you¡¯d already sustained that brain damage before you gave the speech. At least that would be an excuse¡­ I¡¯ve always worried I gave you too long of a leash, Claws. Too much power. It¡¯s my fault, I suppose. I feel like a disappointed parent.


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    ¡°You became impudent and far too confident in your ability to operate outside of your expertise. We¡¯re meant to be a team, and you are no Head. You are stupid.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you, Self! Look at my face! Help me heal. Give me more Nirva!¡±


    The laughter shook Gwil like an earthquake. ¡°How dare you speak to your creator with such foul language? Give you more Nirva? Are you insane? Claws, a mistake like this, I¡¯m much closer to exterminating you. I would¡¯ve already done it if not for the fact that my heart can¡¯t handle the loss of three clones in a single day.¡±


    ¡°Three?¡± the one called Claws¡ªwho Gwil had thought was Tezca the Warden¡ªasked. ¡°What did Tail do?¡±


    The man¡¯s curt nod shook Gwil like the waves of the sea. ¡°Regrettably, Body has moved on. In a permanent way. The Jaguar will never again number more than four.¡±


    ¡°What the hell is going on here?¡± Gwil shouted. ¡°How are you so big? Stop ignoring me!¡±


    ¡°Oh. I¡¯m sorry for our loss, Self,¡± Claws said. ¡°Erm, by the way. One of this demon¡¯s companions has already escaped with the Erithist Spike. He told me while we were fighting.¡±


    ¡°Good!¡± the big one said. ¡°We want nothing to do with that thing. Yuma will pursue it like one of Hell¡¯s own hounds when he finds out.¡±


    While trying to wrestle his arm free, Gwil¡¯s hand brushed against something in his pocket. He felt at it with his fingers and realized it was the tube of ztuff Leira had given him. Nice. I¡¯m starving.


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m sorry about your kitchen,¡± Gwil said. ¡°It was an accident, really. Are you a chef?¡±


    The substantial man finally looked down at Gwil. He giggled and blushed. ¡°Oh, I wish I was. I dabble. I¡¯m more of a connoisseur of the actual eating than the cooking. But I always say a meal is more satisfying when you¡¯ve made it with your own hands.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your favorite food?¡± Gwil asked.


    The large man¡¯s brow furrowed with seriousness. ¡°By sub-category?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t make me narrow it down so much. How about we do top threes? Do you mind if I use Old World nomenclature? Shall we start with chicken? Oh, maybe I¡¯d better do top fives.


    ¡°Saltimbocca, cordon bleu, masala then marsala¡ªthat¡¯s an important distinction. And fifth, mm, well how could I forget good old homestyle fried chicken? With barbeque sauce. I¡¯ll actually bump that up to number two.¡±


    Gwil grinned. ¡°I love chicken too.¡±


    The man nodded enthusiastically and patted Gwil on the head. ¡°Call me Tezca, friend. I¡¯m the true Warden, by the way. You must have been confused. These are my clones, you see.¡±


    ¡°Oh, cool,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Yes, now, back to business. Fish next?¡±


    ¡°Self,¡± Claws said. ¡°Be cautionful of this one. He¡¯s Hallowed and lasciviously clever.¡±


    ¡°I am?¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Claws,¡± Tezca said. ¡°How dare you critique me?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right, Self,¡± the metal-shoed one said. ¡°You¡¯re getting distracted. We need to leave before¡ª¡±


    ¡°Piss off, Legs. You two skinny-minnies have never respected my passion. Neither of you have any interest in the culinary arts. So, forgive me if I¡¯m overjoyed at the opportunity to speak with a fellow enjoyer of cuisine. It¡¯s just¡­ ever since the loss of Body, I feel so¡­¡± He flapped his hand and his face squished up as if he was about to cry.


    ¡°What about the fish?¡± Gwil said. ¡°I wanna know.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes! Number one, obviously, easily, bouillabaisse. Then baccala alla livornese¡­¡±


    Gwil didn¡¯t know what the hell Tezca was talking about, or what language he was speaking, but he¡¯d extracted the tube of ztuff from his pocket and was working hard to free that arm. He found a way of wriggling his hips and torso that let him move his arm, millimeter by millimeter.


    ¡°Beef next?¡± Tezca said. ¡°No, how about we do breakfast foods?¡±


    ¡°I love breakfast,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Anyone who possesses a tongue knows that number one is eggs benedict. Please tell me you¡¯ve had the pleasure of eating eggs benedict¡­?¡± He chortled. ¡°What¡¯s your name, lad?¡±


    ¡°Gwil. And I¡¯ve never had that before.¡±


    Tezca wiped away a tear. ¡°I thought not. You have the look of an uncultured country boy, and know that when I say that, it¡¯s not an insult. I myself was an uncultured country boy, growing up in these very lands. But with my own twelve hands, I built a culinary empire. Even so, it pains my heart to meet a person who truly loves food but has not had the opportunity to explore the bottomless depths of the culinary art. Gwil, please, allow me to make you some eggs benedict. And don¡¯t you worry about the destruction of my kitchen. I have several backups.¡±


    Tezca made to stand up and Gwil had a fleeting moment of incredible relief¡ªduring which he freed his arm. But Legs and Claws had both run over to Tezca and pushed him back down.


    ¡°Self, please¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Claws,¡± Legs said. ¡°You¡¯ll make things worse.¡± He turned to Tezca. ¡°Self, this man burned your kitchen. He stole the Erithist Spike and summoned the Leviathan into our home. He has ruined everything. Do not cook him eggs benedict! He doesn¡¯t deserve to even sniff your hollandaise sauce. Self, Yuma will be here soon.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Legs,¡± Gwil said as he unscrewed the ztuff cap with his thumb. ¡°I want the special eggs.¡±


    Tezca slammed his giant fist down on Gwil¡¯s face. He saw stars. That had some Nirva in it.


    ¡°How dare you talk to Legs like that,¡± Tezca said. ¡°If I scoot over just a little bit, you¡¯ll suffocate. Watch your tongue.¡±


    ¡°Sure, sorry,¡± Gwil said. He unscrewed the ztuff cap with his thumb. ¡°Try this.¡±


    He brandished the bright red tube and squirted a spurt of ztuff into Tezca¡¯s open mouth.


    ¡°Mmmm!¡± Tezca said. He snatched the tube out of Gwil¡¯s hand.


    Dammit. That wasn¡¯t supposed to happen. Gwil¡¯s plan was to give Tezca a taste, and then squirt a trail of it on the ground, baiting Tezca away.


    ¡°Zippy¡¯s Zooper Zesty Ztuff,¡± Tezca read. ¡°Oh, that is delectable. Capsicum, habanero, soy, honey, vinegar, and so much more. I could spend months examining the composition and never get close. This is not a medley, it¡¯s an entire menagerie. So bold!¡±


    ¡°I know, it¡¯s amazing,¡± Gwil said. ¡°And it goes with everything. It¡¯s nutritious, too.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I see it has potassium,¡± Tezca said.


    ¡°My favorite way to eat it is to suck down the entire thing in one pull,¡± Gwil said.


    Tezca took the advice, squealing with delight as he drained the tube. Squealing, and leaping to his feet.


    Gwil scrambled away and then jumped up onto an archway. Damn. His shoe was still over in that courtyard.


    ¡°Self!¡± Legs cried. ¡°He¡¯s escaped.¡±


    Tezca turned to look at Gwil, holding up the wrinkled plastic tube. ¡°Do you have any more of this ztuff? I will allow you to buy your freedom with it.¡±


    ¡°I already told your friend we¡¯re not making any deals,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You suck, and you¡¯re a weak coward and your hair makes you look like a giant baby. I¡¯m gonna kick all your asses. Is there any more of you?¡±

 Chapter Sixty-Nine – An Eye for a Few Fingers

    From his perch atop the archway, Gwil eyed the upper reaches of the atrium. Challe still hung in the air, wreathed in swirling storm clouds. Webs of green lightning crackled across the churning surface of the cocoon. So cool!


    ¡°Just give me the ketchup, you bastard,¡± Tezca shouted. ¡°You have no idea the miracles I would cultivate with such a flavor.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Gwil said, turning around. ¡°You¡¯ll spend the rest of your life wishing you could taste the ztuff again, but you¡¯ll never get to. Er, but you¡¯re gonna die soon anyway, so never mind.¡±


    Gwil jumped down and shrank before hitting the floor. He was bigger than a mouse, closer to rat sized.


    ¡°Impervious Jello Technique!¡± Tezca yelled. He flopped down nowhere near where Gwil was or might have been.


    Gwil shook his head and then snuck behind a planter positioned behind Legs, who was again standing on his hands. The man rotated in place, his upside-down head on a swivel as he performed a complicated kicking routine.


    Did this guy not understand that Gwil could shrink? His handstand method not only left his face vulnerable but placed it at the ideal level for Gwil to attack.


    Stifling a laugh, Gwil crept out. Tezca was just rolling around on the floor. These guys were buffoons.


    He was so spoiled for choice, the hardest part was deciding what he would do. Gwil positioned himself between Legs¡¯s floor-smacking hands, waiting for him to turn around. He wanted to come up with something interesting.


    So when Legs suddenly turned around to face him, Gwil panicked. He held out his arms as if giving someone a hug, and then plunged them into both corners of Legs¡¯s left eye, wrapping his arms fully around the eyeball.


    The man screamed as Gwil pulled. Incredibly, Legs maintained his balance. The eye cords were stronger than Gwil would¡¯ve guessed. He had to plant his foot on Legs¡¯s forehead and push off with Nirva to rip it out.


    Gross red tendrils trailing like streamers, Gwil hurled the eyeball at Tezca and then pop, grew back to size. Legs¡¯s arms had given out, since he needed to clutch at his face with both hands. He lay there flailing, his metal clogs smashing divots into the floor.


    Gwil caught one of the man¡¯s feet and slipped off the metal shoe. His own boot was still missing, and he¡¯d never seen fully metal shoes before, but they seemed useful. He placed the clog on the ground and stuck his bare foot inside.


    ¡°Woah, what size shoe do you wear?¡± Gwil wouldn¡¯t be able to take a single step wearing this cavernous thing. He kicked it off his foot, flinging it away.


    Legs didn¡¯t answer his question, so Gwil flared his Nirva, picked the man up, and tossed him over the railing, down to the atrium¡¯s bottom level. He¡¯d deal with him later.


    Gwil turned on Tezca, who was on his knees, looking down at the torn-out eyeball he held in his cupped hands.


    ¡°What is wrong with you?¡± the immense man sobbed. ¡°You monster. This disgusting violence. What did Legs ever do to you?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± Gwil said, approaching. ¡°He got hurt because of you.¡±


    ¡°This is exactly why I hid from the World! All of you are sick. You might be humans, but you sure act like demons.¡±


    Gwil came to stand face to face with Tezca, but the man gave no acknowledgement. He just continued blubbering at the eyeball.


    ¡°I never even killed that many slaves¡ªI mean servants. Sorry, that was uncouth. But statistically speaking, all the sacrifices are barely a blip.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t use numbers to count lives,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°What? What should I use then?¡±


    Gwil surged his Nirva into his fist, letting it build and build, then he smashed the underside of Tezca¡¯s jaw with a crushing uppercut.


    Tezca didn¡¯t seem to notice. His face jiggled at the impact, jowls swinging like the pendulum in a clock.


    Huh. That was just about the hardest punch Gwil could throw.


    He hit him again, this time square on the cheekbone.


    ¡°I kept them safe! The Gracestorm kept them safe, far safer than they¡¯d have been outside in this ruined World. If not for me, half of their ancestors would¡¯ve died centuries ago. The Apocalypse¡­ Utter annihilation would¡¯ve been a gentler fate, but they want us to suffer!¡±


    As Tezca spoke, Gwil delivered a brutal beating. Nirva vapor streaming from his body, his fists a relentless flurry, he barraged Tezca in the face, the neck, the knees, even moving to his backside to strike the man¡¯s spine. Nothing.


    He took a torch from its wall-mounted sconce and smashed Tezca with it and then shoved it into his flesh until it burnt out. Nothing.


    Gwil made a claw of his hand and rammed his knuckles directly into the Warden¡¯s temple.


    ¡°Leathery Steak Technique,¡± Tezca said while wiping snot from his nose with his hand.


    ¡°Don¡¯t act like you¡¯re a good person,¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°You lied to everyone and turned them into prisoners. And you say it¡¯s okay because you¡¯re scared?¡±


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    ¡°Of course not,¡± Tezca said, a wawa effect to his words as Gwil punched him in the mouth. ¡°That¡¯s just how I justify it.¡±


    ¡°You stole their lives! I¡¯m gonna make you tell them the truth.¡±


    Tezca threw the eyeball away and looked up, his prominent brow darkening his face.


    ¡°You think you¡¯re in control here? You misunderstand. A King is coming, a man who I would not dare challenge. He will crack you like an egg. He will exact revenge on the Malikauans. I am going to escape. If you truly care for their lives, letting me take them away is your only option.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll just fight him too,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I won¡¯t stop until these people get the chance to see the real World.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll stop now,¡± Tezca said. ¡°Pork Shank Technique!¡±


    Tezca¡¯s open-palm thrust drilled Gwil in the sternum, blasting him off his feet and sending him flipping backward through the air.


    Gwil reinforced his spine and his skull just before he slammed into a stone column. The pillar cracked in half at the impact, and Gwil had to roll out of the way as the upper half toppled.


    He popped right up. That hit cleared his head like a bucketful of freezing water. He stretched his arms over his head and bent backward, cracking a few vertebrae back into place.


    Gwil grinned. Here we go.


    He took a deep breath, calling rivers of burning Nirva into his veins, and then sprinted at Tezca, who had finally deigned to stand up. Gwil jumped, shrank, and then flipped upside down as he ascended. Pop. He grew back just as his feet grazed the ceiling and launched himself straight downward.


    Elbows folded over his head, Gwil speared into the top of the Warden¡¯s skull. He dodged Tezca¡¯s follow-up grab by rolling between his legs instead of away.


    As he passed through, Gwil tried to kick out Tezca¡¯s ankles, but the man¡¯s stance was sturdier than the pillar Gwil had just broken.


    Gwil ran a couple steps up the wall and then shrank as he kicked off from it. He grabbed Tezca by the lip as he soared past his face and held on tight. Pop¡ªhe embiggened, clinging to Tezca¡¯s bottom lip and using it like a rope swing.


    ¡°Cannibal Chomp Technique!¡±


    In that moment, Gwil had time to think about how he should have known to treat Tezca¡¯s mouth with more respect.


    His thumb and his first two fingers were cleanly bitten off, and Gwil went tumbling into a hallway.


    Tezca waddled over to stand in front of the entrance¡ªhe would not be able to fit inside without squeezing. The man licked his bloody lips. ¡°Mm, is that ketchup the only thing you eat?¡±


    Blood streaming from his hand, Gwil took a few steps back and then charged. Pop, pop, pop, pop. He ping-ponged from wall-to-wall, shrinking and growing, building up as much speed as he could.


    Tezca turned himself to the side with a surprisingly agile pivot. ¡°Chopped Liver Technique!¡± As Gwil missiled past, Tezca caught him in the chest with a devastating upward chop.


    Gwil¡¯s momentum nearly carried him over the edge of the balcony, but he hit the railing and then crumpled to the floor. One of his ribs was sticking out of his armpit. He ripped it out rather than trying to stick it back into place.


    Pain overpowered the searing ball of Nirva in his stomach, and Gwil realized he might not have put his organs back together as well as he thought. He drummed on his stomach, and his innards felt like mashed potatoes.


    Tezca approached and Gwil readied to pull himself over the railing and roll over the side to get away.


    Dammit. He had hit Tezca as hard as he could so many times, and the man hadn¡¯t even flinched. I need a weapon.


    ¡°Wake up, Claws,¡± Tezca said. It turned out he wasn¡¯t coming for Gwil. Instead, he knelt beside his clone. ¡°Have some of this.¡±


    Shit. They were doing something weird. Gwil tried to get up, but that wasn¡¯t gonna happen yet.


    Pop. He shrank and was devoured by the swelling inferno within his body. But he hadn¡¯t even gotten that small. Baby-sized.


    Gwil focused on his breathing, trying to stoke the Nirva as it blazed through his worst injuries.


    Tezca¡¯s hand glowed pearl white as he held it to Claws¡¯s forehead. An ethereal mist hung around them, glistening. Nirva.


    ¡°I forgive you, Claws,¡± Tezca said.


    Gwil gaped as Claws¡¯s crumpled skull reshaped itself. The end of his nose reformed, too.


    ¡°Self? What is this? You fixed my brain. I feel¡­ You¡¯ve never given me anywhere near this much! I feel so strong.¡±


    ¡°I need you, Claws. You are the warrior in me. This is war.¡±


    Claws stood up and began scraping his claws against each other as if sharpening them, his gaze fixed on Gwil. The man dashed forward, moving in his low prowl. Gwil scrambled to get up on his knees and throw himself out of the way.


    ¡°You¡¯re doomed now,¡± Claws growled as he stabbed the pool of blood Gwil had left behind.


    Using the wall for help¡ªlegs shaking, insides sloshing¡ªhe stood. He grew back to size and said, ¡°Nah, this is fine. You needed the help.¡±


    Claws barreled at Gwil, snarling, running on all fours. Just as the man lunged, Gwil bent low and grabbed both claws, then kneed the man in the face.


    The maneuver cost him a couple of fingers from his left hand. The right one was still all mangled, so that didn¡¯t matter much. He¡¯d caught the blades in the gaps between his finger bones.


    ¡°Nice, your face didn¡¯t get smashed by one hit,¡± Gwil said while skirting away. He held up his hands and directed his Nirva into them, causing sharp stabs of agony in his guts. But it was worth it to see Claws¡¯s face as Gwil grew his fingers back. The dripping blood trickled and then stopped.


    Pop. Gwil shrank and luckily became very small this time. He ran behind the rubble of the broken pillar.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let him goad you, Claws,¡± Tezca said, chortling.


    Gwil leaned against something, clutching at his stomach as he searched for a weapon. All he could find were blunt objects, though¡ªbricks and flowerpots. He needed something that could pierce Tezca¡¯s stalwart flab. Something¡ª


    Pop.


    Gwil grew back to size and ran between Tezca and Claws, slapping them both across their faces as he dashed past. The duo attacked. With all three of them moving in a tangle, Gwil focused on dodging and setting a lure.


    ¡°Impervious Jello Technique!¡±


    Gwil dove out of the way and then doubled back and jumped off Tezca like a trampoline. He had to shrink as he landed to avoid Claws¡¯s attempts to slice him out of the air.


    The clone was much improved by whatever Tezca had done to him. Faster, stronger, more sure-footed.


    Gwil threw a punch and at the same time allowed Claws to slash his bicep. Gotta get him confident.


    He continued dancing around, shrinking and jumping while Claws chased him like a cat playing with a toy. The man was grunting and growling, getting frustrated and wilder.


    Gwil shrank and grabbed the hem of Claws¡¯s robes. He began running in a circle around his legs, wrapping him up in silk. Claws roared and slashed at the fabric.


    Pop. Gwil embiggened behind him, punched him in the back of the head, and then shrank as Claws whipped around in a wide slash. Pop. The other behind him. Pop.


    Claws pounced forward, thrusting with both sets of claws as Gwil shrank out of the way. Big droplets of blood splashed down where Gwil stood.


    ¡°Gah! You might¡¯ve pierced my stomach, you dumb piece of shit. I could lose my meal.¡±


    In missing Gwil, Claws had plunged all six of his claws into the prominent flank of Tezca¡¯s tremendous belly. The blades were buried knuckle deep.


    ¡°Gods, rip them out, you imbecile!¡±


    ¡°Self, they¡¯re stuck!¡±


    Gwil was laughing at them when he again felt a change in the storm¡¯s essence. He didn¡¯t need to look. He just ran to the edge and dove off the balcony, reaching out with his hands.

 Chapter Seventy – Sleeping Storm

    ¡°Leira, please,¡± Cort gasped. ¡°Take some of the bags.¡±


    ¡°What? I¡¯m carrying mine. Give them to Quez. I run out of spores if I¡¯m carrying too much stuff.¡±


    ¡°That is not true,¡± Cort said as Quez relieved him of the Kaia fridge and two of the backpacks, leaving Cort with just his own bag and the jetpack.


    He groaned and rolled out his shoulders. Carrying all that shit around was causing him more trouble than his actual injuries. He unwrapped Leira¡¯s blood-soaked dress from his waist and examined his wound.


    Leira¡¯s fungus-bandage thing had been absorbed, forming a translucent sort of scab. Blood oozed from the edges, but that was a lot better than gushing.


    Cort bunched the dress up and handed it to Leira. She clipped her shriek and then took her bag from Quez and stuffed the dress inside.


    They moved down to the next flight of stairs and were assailed by the clangor of battle. The visible sliver of the doorway revealed a jumbled mass of Malikauan warriors.


    Quez stopped just before the bottom, but Cort shoved him out, and then he and Leira followed. They entered a large, open pavilion, lit by dozens of wall-mounted torches.


    Damn. The fight was more brutal than Cort expected. His eyes first went to the pool of water at the center of the space¡ªmilky-red, filled with bobbing corpses. More dead and wounded were littered throughout the space, marking the trail of the conflict.


    One side was severely outnumbered, maybe four-to-one. They still held their shield formation, but they¡¯d allowed the larger force to surround them on all sides. Even as Cort watched, more men and women fell. For a fight among so-called brothers and sisters that had begun as they stood shoulder to shoulder in victory, it was¡­ vicious. A big mess of bloodied bodies screaming their heads off as they crushed corpses underfoot and slipped on gore.


    Leira muttered something like, ¡°¡­fucking zealots¡­¡±


    Quez dropped the bags and the fridge¡ªCort winced as it hit the stone ground¡ªand ripped off his headdress with fumbling hands. He threw it down and stomped on it, grinding his heel.


    ¡°What do I do?¡± he said, toneless, eyes watery as he clutched at his face, digging his fingers in beneath his eyes. Torchlight glistened off his sweaty face. ¡°What do I do?¡±


    ¡°Handle it,¡± Cort said. He clapped Quez on the back and moved toward the fight, taking his hammer from his shoulder into both hands.


    ¡°Cort will back you up,¡± Leira said. ¡°Wait, Cort, that¡¯s a bad idea. You want more pink stuff?¡±


    Just then, another body appeared, falling as if from the sky and smacking the ground right in front of Quez. This one was alive and screaming, though, and bleeding profusely from his face.


    ¡°Ha!¡± Leira said, looking up. ¡°Looks like Gwil made quick work of this idiot. You wanna smash him, Cort? He might be able to heal.¡±


    Cort hefted his hammer but furrowed his brow. ¡°This¡­ isn¡¯t the same person. That guy wasn¡¯t this tall.¡±


    Quez man was sputtering, his jaw quivering. ¡°Jaguar,¡± he rasped. ¡°Not the Warden. One of the Five Jaguars.¡±


    ¡°Do I kill him or not?¡± Cort said.


    ¡°Do it,¡± Leira said.


    ¡°I-I-¡±


    Cort rolled his eyes at Quez¡¯s floundering, but then the rise of a roaring clatter told him that indecision was not what had him stunned. Dozens upon dozens of the warriors had broken away from the main fight and were charging toward them.


    ¡°Save the Jaguar!¡±


    ¡°Your Holiness!¡±


    ¡°Back up, Quez,¡± Cort said. He hastily looked around and then waved Leira toward an archway that led to a separate pavilion. They needed a choke point if they were gonna stand against this many. ¡°Quez!¡±


    ¡°I am Sworn Guardian,¡± the fool shouted. ¡°Stand down! I command you to stand down!¡±


    Fucking hell. Cort ran in from the side, his hammer crunching through the front line as he put himself between Quez and the horde.


    He shoved them back with the shaft of his hammer, but they poured around the sides. Quez finally got the fucking message, though, and raised his weapons.


    Cort reached back with his hammer and cleaved through the warriors on their left side, giving them some space to start working toward the arch. He pushed Quez in that direction.


    A few of the warriors went and retrieved the body of the Jaguar guy, which was apparently their goal. That accomplished, a handful of them retreated¡ªprobably think I¡¯m a demon or some shit¡ªbut others arrived at the same time.


    Falling spores, pink and red, dusted Cort¡¯s vision. A smirk peeled over his clenched teeth as he flattened some poor bastard like a beer can.


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    Quez was still shouting nonsense about Challe and the Warden and whatever these people believed in. Cort laughed at how he described the Leviathan teleporter as ¡®the birth canal of a metal goddess¡¯. But Quez¡¯s words fell on deaf ears.


    The warriors were decently skilled with their clubs, but they did a lot of needless spinning and twirling. Too flashy.


    A woman ducked under his hammer swing and hooked her club around the head. She threw all her weight back, making Cort stumble and exposing him to a bladed club strike that sliced into his back wound.


    Cort screamed and kicked the woman in the gut, making her drop her club. He slammed his hammer down on someone else¡¯s foot and then turned on the warrior who¡¯d hit him in the back. With both hands, Cort grabbed the man¡¯s head and crushed his skull, fingers crunching through bone.


    He winced as he turned away and picked his hammer back up, glad that Quez hadn¡¯t seen that kill. It was a bit too demonic.


    A few warriors were trying to prevent them from getting to the archway, but Leira¡¯s spores had rendered them dumb. A couple of them had sat down to play pattycake and one was sucking on the end of his club.


    He and Quez made it through the arch. Cort turned and raised his hammer overhead before slamming it down, collapsing the floor immediately surrounding the arch.


    Most of the warriors that had come to challenge them retreated at that point. Many of them had been killed, and they¡¯d retrieved their Jaguar, so they went back to slaughtering their own comrades. Cort shook his head. They could¡¯ve just taken that strangely tall bastard for free for all he cared.


    ¡°We need to go help them,¡± Quez shouted.


    ¡°I know. We will, but just¡­ gimme¡­ wuhhhh.¡± Cort fell back against the wall and slid down to the floor. His wound was screaming, and a lot of hot blood was pouring down his leg.


    ¡°Roll over, lemme fix it,¡± Leira said, kneeling beside him.


    Lying there, Cort caught sight of yet another falling body. Two, actually.


    ***


    Carrying Challe in his arms, Gwil landed in the middle of a big fight.


    The storm had stopped pouring out of the woman¡¯s body, and she seemed only half-conscious. A strange filminess distorted her jadestones. Gwil had felt it when her power suddenly vanished and then ran to catch her. Only upon hitting the ground did he realize there¡¯d been no need to do that¡ªNirva would¡¯ve saved her. But whatever, it was better not to let someone get splattered, even if they could heal.


    Strange though, was that, despite Challe¡¯s state, the storm was raging outside the Malikauan temple. It must have been the peak that Claws¡ªand Jayson, too¡ªhad mentioned. The rain had become barraging hail. The thunder cracked at a furious, relentless pace. As if some deranged blacksmith hammered metal in a forge that spanned the sky. Even in this vast shelter of stone, the wind could be felt, like a mad thing scraping.


    Feather-garbed warriors surrounded Gwil and Challe, and they were going crazy killing each other. Most of them looked shocked and then horrified and enraged by Challe¡¯s sudden appearance in their midst.


    The warriors swarmed them from all sides. Gwil batted away¡ªand ate¡ªa few club strikes as he wrestled to get some space. Then he jumped and focused his Nirva into his legs as he performed a spinning double-kick. The impacted warriors were thrown back, and like a wave, they crashed against their comrades, knocking more to the ground.


    Gwil thought even that leggy clone guy would¡¯ve been impressed by that kick. He glanced around the battlefield. Where was Legs anyway? Much as he hated Tezca, he did like the way the clones had nice, easy-to-remember names.


    While looking around, Gwil grasped the nature of this battle between the warriors. He was in the thick of the bigger force, and that group had pushed the smaller force against a wall and surrounded them. Where they clashed, so many corpses were piling up.


    Gwil mostly just wanted to break up the fight, since they were killing each other for no good reason. He shifted his hold on Challe¡ªwho was stiff and clinging to him with twenty clawlike fingers¡ªand then lowered his shoulder and plowed through the still-disturbed ranks of warriors.


    He broke through the front line and prepared to fight off the smaller force, but they instead cheered¡ªsome even smiling¡ªand pushed past Gwil, gaining some ground on their opponents and forming up in defense of him and Challe. They yelled nice things about Challe as they pressed on.


    ¡°Thanks!¡± Gwil shouted.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± a voice shouted from above. Gwil looked up and saw Tezca and Claws leaning over the railing above. ¡°Who¡¯s the coward now? Running away just ¡®cause you got a little hurt.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not running away!¡± Gwil yelled back. ¡°Challe fell. You get down here.¡±


    Claws vaulted the railing, but Tezca caught him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him back up.


    ¡°You come back up here,¡± Tezca barked. ¡°And bring me the Vessel!¡±


    ¡°Just jump down and get her,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯ll probably bounce.¡±


    ¡°I will not be made to move through my own domain in such an uncouth manner! I¡¯ll take the stairs. Stay where you are!¡±


    Gwil shook his head and stepped forward to work toward breaking up the fight.


    ¡°Gwil! Hey, Gwil!¡±


    Leira. He turned and found her peeking out from an archway that stood at the end of this wall. Gwil looked between her and the battle. Maybe he¡¯d better go over there to put Challe down, and maybe rest for a second¡­


    He hurried over and found himself wobbling and shaking. Behind him, the warriors¡ªwho Gwil figured must be loyal to Challe instead of the Warden¡ªshifted their position to put themselves between the archway and the bigger force.


    ¡°Eagle-man! Look, Challe, it¡¯s Eagle-man.¡± She shook her head once¡ªher eyes were squeezed shut, and she had her face buried against Gwil¡¯s chest.


    Gwil hopped over a hole in the floor and made it through the arch. Eagle-man sat against the wall with his knees drawn to his chest, staring at Challe. Cort was beside him, half-lying down and looking dazed.


    ¡°Hey guys, what¡¯s going on?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°Nothing much,¡± Leira said. ¡°We¡¯re giving our friend Quez some support while he waffles against the mindless zealotry of his friends and family.¡±


    Gwil nodded.


    ¡°So,¡± she twirled a lock of hair around her finger. ¡°You wanna get out of here?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t,¡± Gwil said, struggling to catch his breath. He had no Nirva in his limbs¡ªit was all working his organs and ribs. ¡°I have business with the king.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Cort sat partway upright. ¡°I can¡¯t fight a Monarch right now, Gwil.¡±


    ¡°Bet you will if I give you more pink stuff,¡± Leira muttered.


    ¡°An axolotl told me to give Yuma a ¡®booma¡¯ on its behalf. I gotta do it.¡±


    Cort made a fist and bit down on his knuckle.


    Leira fidgeted with her eyeflower. ¡°I have an idea,¡± she said slowly. ¡°Gwil, the king might be too strong. Would you be okay just drawing him away from here?¡±


    ¡°Yeah! That¡¯s what we should do. Just as long as I punch him in the face first. At least I think that¡¯s what a booma is.¡±


    ¡°We can do that,¡± Leira said, nodding her head excitedly. ¡°We can use the Spike as bait. Yuma will follow us like a starving dog. Eh, Quez? Challe? What¡¯d you think of that idea? Gwil will deal with the Warden, then we lure the Leviathan away. Your people will be safe and free.¡±


    Challe only squeezed Gwil harder. Quez had no reaction whatsoever.


    ¡°Oh right,¡± Leira said. ¡°You guys don¡¯t even know what the Leviathan is.¡±

 Chapter Seventy-One – A Dream That Carries Me

    Gwil tried to put Challe down but instead collapsed himself. ¡°I just need a minute,¡± he grunted, making no effort to get up.


    Leira, the only one of them standing, clicked her tongue. ¡°What is with you guys all lying around? This is no time to be hurt or sad.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Gwil said, lifting his head. Burning Nirva crawled through his insides, like water seeping into the soil. He could feel things tightening up inside himself. ¡°Where¡¯s that Legs guy?¡±


    ¡°The warriors took him away,¡± Cort said. ¡°Is that a problem?¡±


    ¡°Nah,¡± Gwil said. ¡°He¡¯s Hallowed, though. Kind of. Right, so, I know everything. The Jaguar guys are all just clones of the real Tezca¡ªthat¡¯s his Invoke, I think. And the biggest Jaguar is actually Tezca, the real Elder Warden, not the claws one. That¡¯s just Claws.¡±


    Quez started laughing. ¡°Goddess. We are such idiots. Born of idiots, raised by idiots, and glad to be idiots. And now, we finally learn the truth and more than half of us want to bury our heads in the sand. All because of one man and his lies.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s more like three men,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Or six? I dunno.¡± He poked Challe in the shoulder. ¡°Hey, aren¡¯t you interested? You wanted to know what was going on. Hey, what¡¯s wrong?¡± He looked up at the others. ¡°Maybe she needs some ketchup.¡±


    Groaning, Cort took a tube out of his pocket and passed it to Gwil. He unscrewed the cap and tried to feed the ztuff to Challe. She swatted the tube out of his hand.


    Three collective gasps sliced through the air.


    ¡°Challe, c¡¯mon!¡± Gwil said. ¡°You¡¯re acting crazy. What¡¯s the matter?¡±


    She sprang up off the floor and shrieked, ¡°Are you blind? Look at all the corpses! My brothers and sisters. Look what I¡¯ve done!¡±


    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t,¡± Gwil said. ¡°It¡¯s all Tezca¡¯s fault.¡±


    Cort sat up so that he could look at Challe, though she¡¯d fallen face down on the floor again. ¡°We started all this. Especially me and Leira. We brought the soldiers here. But¡­ eh. Change never comes easy.¡±


    ¡°Cort!¡± Gwil said. ¡°What happened to your teeth?¡±


    Challe jumped up again to swing at Cort. He let her smack him with three fists. Gasping, she said, ¡°I didn¡¯t want change! I didn¡¯t want anything! I just want my people to live, and I ruined everything.¡±


    Quez planted himself in the middle of the bunch and grabbed Challe¡¯s wrists. ¡°Challe¡¯Jade. Sister. You are saving us.¡±


    A single sob racked Challe. ¡°Sworn Guardian. I betrayed my vow. I betrayed you worst of all. It is your duty to execute me.¡±


    ¡°Sister, you didn¡¯t see what I saw,¡± Quez said. ¡°I am with you. Beneath the Stormwomb, I saw the evidence of your truth. Tezca has some kind of relationship with those red-eyed soldiers. They¡¯re connected¡ªit must have been going on since the founding of Malikau. Everything was a lie. I found a secret place where all our food and supplies came from. The ones we thought to be miracles of the Goddess. Hidden there was a magical device¡ªit birthed all the soldiers. It wasn¡¯t because of Cort and Leira.¡±


    The two of them grimaced at each other.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t ruined anything,¡± Quez continued. ¡°We will come back from this. Malikau can survive anything. That is who we are. Even if that foundation was a lie, if we grew from poisoned ground¡­ There must be something of worth that we can claim for ourselves.¡±


    Challe clamped two hands over her ears and buried her face in the other two. ¡°I delivered truth, and it was rotten.¡±


    Gwil flared Nirva and stood up. He¡¯d healed plenty, and the knot in his stomach at seeing Challe like this was worse than anything else. ¡°Those warriors need help,¡± he said through clenched teeth.


    He turned away and jumped through the archway, landing on the other side of the hole. As he ran toward the fight, he screamed, ¡°Tezca!¡±


    ***


    ¡°No, sister,¡± Quez said. ¡°There was nothing wrong with your decision. Tezca stole our ability to decide. Your words were not the problem. His words¡ªfive hundred years of lies. His actions¡ªbuilding this temple and trapping us like animals. And damn the ancestors, too, for letting themselves get fooled.¡±


    ¡°Right on, Quez,¡± Cort said after an overlong silence from Challe. ¡°Don¡¯t be so harsh on yourselves. Challe, in this World, you can¡¯t afford to carry everyone¡¯s guilt. There¡¯s way too much of that to go around. You¡¯ll drown. You just gotta do what feels right and keep pushing on. Sometimes it works out, a lot of times it doesn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Quez is wrong about something, though,¡± Leira said quietly. ¡°If we¡¯re gonna be traveling together, I don¡¯t wanna get off on the wrong foot. Those soldiers showing up here was our fault. My fault. A lot of your people died because of me. Hell, we killed all those people with the chairs, too. Anyway, I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t consider how bad things could get.¡± She smiled. ¡°You¡¯ll probably learn that I¡¯m not as smart as I seem.¡±


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    ¡°T-traveling together?¡± Challe said, confusion snapping her out of despair.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fun, I promise,¡± Leira said. ¡°You¡¯ll see things you never imagined. You and Gwil can be clueless together.¡±


    Challe shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t accept your apology. No matter what you did, you three saved¡­ so many more. The soldiers would¡¯ve slaughtered every last one of us without you.¡±


    Leira laughed. ¡°Are you even listening to yourself? Don¡¯t you see how generous you¡¯re being with us? Why don¡¯t you treat yourself that way?¡±


    Challe stared down at the jadestone embedded in the back of one of her hands. The flickering torchlight made its pattern dance.


    ¡°Sorry to you too, Quez,¡± Cort said. ¡°About the chair thing. That was messy.¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°There is no need. You¡¯ve welcomed us to the real World. We have hidden here for generations, and that made us weak. Vulnerable. Look at me, my weakness has been screaming in my face from the moment you arrived here.¡±


    Quez took Challe¡¯s hands and drew her upright. ¡°I am so devastated that if I allow myself to think, I can¡¯t breathe. But I¡¯ve realized a dream that carries me, keeps me going. Please, sister, help me make it real. I want our people to become a part of this World and take back all that was stolen from us. We must confront everything that we¡¯ve hidden from. If there was no Apocalypse, then¡ª¡±


    I held my breath for this poor, sweet soul who ignorantly burns his life for hope.


    ¡°Er- sorry to cut in,¡± Leira said. ¡°But there was an Apocalypse. That part¡¯s true, but it was nine hundred years ago. I¡¯m sure your Warden used it as inspiration for his fake lore. There actually were a ton of¡­ demons, to use a term you¡¯ll understand. And they¡¯re still hanging around. And a ton of people did die, but nowhere near everyone.¡± She laughed. ¡°Why would the divine forces want to exterminate an intelligent species when they can dominate us instead?¡±


    ***


    ¡°Aw, fuck,¡± Gwil said as he approached the battling warriors.


    The people of Malikau¡ªthe bulk of whom had been gathered on the balconies¡ªhad realized this was the center of the action, the place where their lives were being decided. On all sides of the atrium, they streamed in, running down staircases and emerging from halls, rushing like wild animals released from an overstuffed pen.


    Gwil threw himself into the thick of the fight. ¡°Demon! Monster!¡± they screamed, swarming him, wailing him with their clubs. He fought as gently as he could, shoving them back and ripping away their weapons. Enough of these people had gotten killed since the three of them had arrived here. Brothers and sisters, Challe kept saying.


    ¡°Who¡¯re the ones¡ªguh¡ªwith Challe?¡± Gwil shouted.


    A group of clustered voices roared in answer. Gwil sifted through the combatants, tossing aside the hostile ones like ragdolls. He probably hadn¡¯t needed to ask¡ªit was the ones who weren¡¯t attacking him that were friendly.


    Eventually, he rearranged the battle so that the ones loyal to Challe (of which there were far less) were positioned alongside and behind him. But things were getting messier as the ordinary folk continued pouring in. Faced with the battle and the sight of their dead warriors, most of them hesitated, but a few bold ones were beginning to encroach.


    The hostile warriors were getting frustrated with Gwil¡¯s antics. He was darting back and forth along their frontline, preventing them from gaining any ground by picking them up and throwing them backward.


    ¡°Listen!¡± he called to the ones helping him. ¡°We¡¯ll deal with these guys. Challe is gonna take care of everything.¡± He pointed toward the growing crowd surrounding the area. ¡°You all should go do what you can to keep those people safe and not killing themselves.¡±


    A handful of the warriors did run off to do that, but most just continued fighting, and a few stared at Gwil like he was an idiot. Or maybe a demon.


    Hmph. He turned to the archway. ¡°Challe! Eagle-man!¡± Gwil screamed. ¡°Get over here right now!¡±


    Gwil¡¯s Mir twinged, and he decided he¡¯d better hasten things along. He threw his arms out wide and bolstered them with Nirva to the point they felt like steel bars. Then he ran through the hostile warriors, knocking them over and using their bodies to plow through more, like he was shoveling snow. He moved in an erratic pattern, serpentining and making figure ¡®8¡¯s, gathering a tangled mass of bodies until just about everyone had been knocked over and taken what he hoped were only minor beatings.


    When he was done, he saw Challe and Quez¡ªalong with Cort and Leira¡ªmaking their way over. Gwil gave Cort a questioning look, and the man answered with a thumbs up. Gwil nodded and set off to find Tezca.


    Leira shouted one last thing. ¡°Gwil, don¡¯t forget to find out about the Oubliette.¡±


    The atrium¡¯s stacked, jumbled layout was confusing enough, but now, with all these people blocking the sightlines, it was even more difficult to make sense of things. Looking up at the second floor, he couldn¡¯t even recall where he¡¯d jumped down from.


    But then he saw a large group of people fall to their knees. And a bunch more tumbled down a crowded staircase.


    ¡°Fear not, fear not, my Malikauans,¡± cried a boisterous voice as the crowd parted and a ballooning shadow fell upon them.


    ¡°There you are, you bouncy bastard,¡± Gwil yelled.


    ¡°Here I am, you treacherous twig,¡± Tezca said as he reached the bottom of the stairs. ¡°Where is Legs? Is he alright? Go find him, Claws. I will deal with this demon until you return to stab him in the back at the opportune moment. And then we will run away before Yuma arrives.¡±


    Claws scurried off. Gwil had been about to tell Tezca what happened to Legs¡ªhe was glad he hadn¡¯t spoken up yet. He picked up two loose clubs off the floor. Let¡¯s see him jello these.


    ¡°Out of the way, servants¡ªI mean devout worshippers. I, the Elder Warden¡ªI mean Jaguar¡ªwill protect you.¡± He turned around and swatted away bunches of Malikauans. They cleared out of the immediate area, but the appearance of a Jaguar or Warden or whatever had sent them into a tizzy, and more and more came to witness.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna carve you up like a turkey,¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°I would make a marvelous turkey,¡± Tezca said. ¡°Anyone would be blessed to eat my flesh. Thanks to my exquisite diet, my meat is certainly delectable. Ah, damn! I didn¡¯t get the chance to make a list of my favorite turkey-related dishes.¡±


    ¡°You still owe me the special eggs, too,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You promised.¡±


    Tezca stroked his wobbling chin as if actually considering, but¡ª


    ¡°Tezca!¡± A blinding flash of green light accompanied the scream. In that fleeting moment, all was silent. The storm shuddered. The frenzied Malikauans were stunned, their voices stolen. But the madness resurged.


    Challe came to stand beside Gwil. Though she was no longer wreathed in clouds, her gray eyes crackled green, and the jadestones embedded in her flesh flared with radiance.


    ¡°Ooh, Challe,¡± Gwil said. ¡°This guy told me he¡¯s the real Elder Warden. The others are all just¡ª¡±


    ¡°You already told me, Gwil,¡± Challe said without looking at him. She stared daggers at Tezca. ¡°Where are the other Jaguars? All of you need to be dealt with.¡±


    When she spoke, Gwil felt the words as a crushing weight against his chest. Tezca¡¯s face jiggled at the ripples of force, and many of the gathered Malikauans collapsed. Outside, the strength of the storm wavered, subject to Challe¡¯s dominion.

 Chapter Seventy-Two – Learned Behavior

    ¡°The rest of them? The rest of them? The rest of us!¡± Tezca wailed. ¡°The rest of us are dead, Vessel, because of your treachery and the monstrous demons with whom you¡¯re fraternizing.¡± Tezca raised his voice to be heard by the surrounding mob. ¡°Challe¡¯Jade, your dereliction of your sacred calling has led to the deaths of the holiest of men. My beloved Malikauans, the First Sacrifice was a curse disguised as a blessing.¡±


    Gwil was keeping his eyes on the outraged crowd, but he spared a glance at Challe, worried that she might quail at the Warden¡¯s words.


    Instead, she stepped forward, pointing with one hand while holding the other three at her sides, fists clenched. ¡°Of all the Jaguars, I always hated you the most.¡±


    ¡°Mwahaha!¡± Tezca laughed while obnoxiously touching a finger to his pursed lips. ¡°All part of my ruse¡ªI mean design. I bet you thought I was the dumbest, too.¡±


    ¡°Hit him with a lightning bolt, Challe,¡± Gwil said, brandishing his two bladed clubs. ¡°Then I¡¯ll chop him up.¡±


    ¡°Good gods,¡± Tezca said, recoiling in disgust. ¡°Demonic cannibals. I was joking when I said I would taste good.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that!¡±


    ¡°Gwil,¡± Challe said without looking away from Tezca. Though she spoke softly, her voice made Gwil¡¯s hair stand up. ¡°Let me handle this, please. Tezca. Why did you hide the Progenitor? What was the point of the sacrifices and the Gracestorm? It was all so¡­ needless.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s very simple, Challe¡¯Jade. You see, I read a book called Despotism for Dimwits: A Beginner¡¯s Guide. A delightful and informative read, and quite humorous considering the subject matter. The text highlighted the importance of instilling fear and desperation in the hearts of your serv¡ªI mean¡­¡± Tezca trailed off as the crowd quieted.


    The corpulent man went red in the face. He looked back over each of his shoulders. ¡°Fear not, my beloved Malikauans. I am merely weaving a deception to appease our deranged Vessel.


    ¡°The truth is, of course, that was not the real Progenitor, who tragically died during the conception of Mar¡¯Jade. I managed to procure a similar creature, who I hoped to imbue with the Goddess¡¯s blessing so I could put an end to the dreadful sacrifices that we are forced to suffer.¡±


    The crowd cheered and wept, falling over themselves as they dropped to their knees. Tezca suddenly turned tail and barreled into their grasping hands. He moved with remarkable speed, disappearing into the sanctuary afforded by hundreds of innocent civilians.


    ¡°No!¡± Challe¡¯s shriek spawned a spiral of dark clouds. Biting hailstones pelted the bystanders, and a bolt of lightning shot out to collapse a nearby balcony.


    ¡°That coward,¡± Gwil said. ¡°He¡¯s using them as meat shields. C¡¯mon.¡± He grabbed Challe¡¯s wrist so that they could give chase, but when he yanked her, she didn¡¯t budge. Green light shone from her eyes and from her jadestones.


    Jagged slashes of lightning cascaded over the heads of the assembled Malikauans, the intensity burgeoning as the bolts sought Tezca.


    Gwil flared Nirva and punched Challe hard in the stomach. She doubled over, gasping at the loss of her wind. The lightning and the storm clouds dissipated.


    ¡°I¡­¡± Challe shook her head. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Weird stuff happens with Nirva all the time and it¡¯s all Warren¡¯s fault, anyway. Let¡¯s get his ass.¡±


    He and Challe pressed forward, and the crowd came together, attempting to block their way. Gwil was impressed by their bravery as he swatted them aside. Tezca¡¯s path was easy to follow since he left a gulf of fallen Malikauans in his wake.


    ¡°Gwil,¡± Challe said, and the storm outside again fell silent. ¡°I want to kill him.¡±


    The conviction in her words¡­ Gwil felt it as if she¡¯d given him a command. It didn¡¯t compel him, but it sure tugged at his heart.


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ***


    Leira suffered the discomfort that was nostalgia.


    She stood well behind the thick of the battle, behind Cort and Quez and the slightly less stupid group of warriors who they¡¯d allied with. Leira didn¡¯t much care for how they¡¯d been made to split hairs over degrees of zealotry, but they couldn¡¯t afford to be picky, and Quez seemed a nice enough guy.


    Numbers wise, their force was still disadvantaged, but Cort was such a menace that he more than made up the difference. Unfortunately, a bunch of the normal Malikauans had decided to take a bite from the apple of derangement and throw themselves into the battle.


    Leira had assigned herself the responsibility of dealing with them. She rained spores¡ªpink and red¡ªupon them, making them calmer and dumber.


    When she enthralled a larger group, she couldn¡¯t control them nearly as precisely. Her ability to influence diminished to something akin to mood alteration. Their susceptibility hinged on their individual strength of will and whatever external stimuli were present. So, depending on the intensity of the situation¡ªsay a death battle with their kin over the sanctity of their faith¡ªa solid resistance could be mounted.


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    That was where the pink spores came in. She doped them up to dull their aggression and, voila, they were much more receptive to the red spores.


    This was a lot of people though, and their devotion had them so feverish she could only make them clumsy and slow-witted. If she gave them too much of the pink stuff, they¡¯d die of respiratory failure or something. That would be counterproductive.


    Leira sighed as she worked. She¡¯d seen this whole damn shitshow play out a dozen times before. This brutal, twisted mess¡­ It was eerily similar to Anesidyra¡¯s preferred method of conquering a people.


    And it was not lost on Leira that, in this instance, one could argue that she, Cort, and Gwil were the invaders who had destroyed a homeland. Or rather, inadvertently facilitated its destruction. And maybe they hadn¡¯t handled the situation in the ideal manner.


    But they did try, and that was worth something, she hoped. All they could do now was try to ease the fall. Sometimes, that¡¯s the way she goes.


    Anesidyra despised using soldiers. The Centipede Queen was an infection. Kingdoms, cities, mercenary groups¡ªshe enjoyed seeding them with her festering rot so they¡¯d crumble from within. Or better yet, rip themselves apart.


    Brothers and sisters killing brothers and sisters. Yeah, Anesidyra would be downright gleeful seeing something like this.


    Once, when Leira was twelve, the Queen brought her to a dinner with some upstart Hallow who¡¯d gathered himself an army of mercs. He was playing at being lord of some little manor.


    When they sat down at the table, Leira smelled it on the man and knew what was coming. Anesidyra had infected him with her parasites¡ªwhich were way dirtier than Leira¡¯s spores¡ªweeks prior.


    The Hallowed man¡¯s wife and kids and a bunch of his friends were there, too. They were all very excited to be currying favor with a Leviathan Monarch.


    A gaggle of servants brought in the food. They carried those silver platters with the dome-shaped lids. They set the trays down and opened them up, revealing dishes that were crawling with parasitic centipedes.


    Anesidyra forced the Hallow to force his wife to feed the parasites to their three children. They turned into horrible, insectoid monsters right in their chairs. Then, they infected everyone in the room, save their mother.


    Through it all, the Centipede Queen laughed and laughed. That poor mom got it the worst, because Anesidyra didn¡¯t let the parasites take her, so she kept her mind and her memories. She was made to serve as Anesidyra¡¯s foot masseuse. A terrible fate.


    As far as Leira knew, the woman still held that position. Dammit. I should¡¯ve tried to bring her with me when I escaped. Ashkana would¡¯ve.


    Leira shook her head clear and focused on the battle. Some idiot had set a tree on fire in the time she¡¯d been distracted. She needed to do a better job conserving her spores¡ªshe didn¡¯t want to bury herself again. If she didn¡¯t run herself dry, the spores would repopulate over the course of a few days.


    She shouldn¡¯t complain, though. Burying herself wasn¡¯t too bad. It was actually relaxing, like a mud bath. As long as she didn¡¯t have to commune with Megrim or conduct a Full Blooming, then she was a lucky lady.


    A disturbance rippled through the pool of enthrallment in her mind. Something powerful had caught their attention, and it was tugging at the threads of influence.


    Seeing them through her flower, cast in shades of crimson, Leira parsed her thralls. The effect spawned from a group of hostile soldiers gathered in the middle of the throng. Leira went up on her tiptoes, but the battlefield had grown quite crowded, so she still couldn¡¯t see.


    She smiled to herself as she looked for something to stand up on. Leira hadn¡¯t always been so tall. During her recent time in the Rebirth flower, she¡¯d discovered she had a bit of influence over the way her new body grew, so she decided to make herself a little taller. So far, she found it delightful.


    Leira climbed up onto a pedestal and looked over everyone¡¯s heads. There.


    ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t, you fuckers,¡± she muttered.


    She¡¯d spotted two of the green-robed Jaguars surrounded by Malikauan warriors. The clawed one¡ªwho¡¯d apparently been pretending to be the ruler, though Leira doubted whether Gwil had understood the situation correctly¡ªand the stupidly long-legged one who had been rescued by the warriors earlier.


    Leira took a deep breath and screamed from her perch, ¡°Yo, Cortemius!¡±


    Cort, who dwarfed everyone around him, turned to look at her. ¡®What?¡¯ he mouthed.


    ¡°That Claws guy is trying to get away with the Legs guy! We should stop them!¡±


    She read his lips: ¡®Fuck¡¯. Cort pointed toward the edge of the fray and made that way himself.


    Leira clicked her tongue and stepped down from the pedestal. She searched for Gwil, but he, Challe, and the Warden had gone off somewhere.


    She swallowed her worries¡ªnot for Gwil¡¯s well-being. He¡¯d be fine. No, Leira was performing something of an experiment. Or, more letting it take place.


    This King Yuma¡­ She couldn¡¯t remember who he was, so he couldn¡¯t be that powerful, at least as far as Monarchs go. Leira wanted Gwil to get a shot at this lesser King so they could find out where he might stand against Anesidyra.


    The Centipede Queen was not a patient woman. The three of them needed to be prepared. Leira feared Anesidyra would get her claws in them before they even recognized the threat.


    On the outskirts of the battle, things were less structured, the combatants more scattered, so Leira had her guard down, which allowed a warrior to strike her on the arm with his club as she passed him by.


    ¡°Yowch! You little bitch,¡± Leira spat as she spun around and kicked the man in the kneecap, dropping him. She clutched her arm, hot blood trickling between her fingers.


    The man scrambled away from her. He had a green sun painted on his cheek. ¡°Demoness! Demoness!¡± he cried.


    She moved alongside him¡ªthe ability to loom was the best part of being tall. ¡°Thank you, darling. Run along now. I know you¡¯re just misguided.¡±


    The fool swung at her leg. It only glanced off her shin, but it still fucking hurt. Leira stepped forward and stomped on the man¡¯s throat, then knelt on his chest. She shoved her hand into his mouth and pulled down on his jaw. ¡°Open wide,¡± she said as she leaned over him and called on her acidic spores. Fetid brown liquid poured into the man¡¯s mouth, sizzling as his throat melted.


    Leira brushed herself off and shook her head. Nasty temper¡ªshe¡¯d picked up a few bad habits from Anesidyra. Nature, nurture, what have you. The worst thing was the tendency to speak sweetly and use terms of endearment with people you intended to kill. She needed to stop doing that. Too creepy.


    Cort emerged from a cluster of feather-clad warriors with Quez stumbling after him. The Malikauan man was wide-eyed with craze and soaked with blood.


    ¡°Where are they?¡± Cort barked.


    Leira nodded in the direction and set off at a run. When Cort fell in step with her, she grinned at him. ¡°So, you need my help with fighting?¡±


    Cort threw his hands up. ¡°Of course I do. Are you crazy? It¡¯s two Hallows. And all those warriors¡¯ll be throwing their lives away to protect them.¡±


    ¡°The Jaguars,¡± Quez rasped. ¡°We can use them to stop this. The people need to hear the truth for themselves.¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon then,¡± Cort grunted.


    He held his hammer sideways and charged. Through the rift in the crowd, Leira could see the two Jaguars. Claws had his arm around Legs, and they were making their way to a hallway.


    Cort dove and hooked his hammer around Claws¡¯s ankle.

 Chapter Seventy-Three – If the Shoe Fits

    Leira smiled as she caught up to Cort. He was on the ground scuffling with Legs and Claws, whacking them with his hammer. Easy.


    Then Claws twisted free and raked Cort down his back, leaving three glistening tracts. Cort curled up at the pain and caught a metal shoe to the face. Leira heard the cartilage crunch.


    ¡°Even with one shoe, demon!¡± Legs shouted.


    As blood gushed from Cort¡¯s scrunched-up face, Quez pushed past Leira.


    ¡°Oh, good. Sworn Guardian,¡± Claws said. ¡°Help us with¡ª¡±


    Quez clubbed him across the face and then slammed the weapon down on top of Legs¡¯s head.


    Claws dove at Quez, aiming to eviscerate him. From beneath, Cort wrapped his arms around Claws¡¯s torso and dragged him down.


    ¡°Fu-¡± Leira¡¯s scream cut off as she was thrown to the ground and stomped on. She covered her head with her arms and peeked through a crack. A bunch of the surrounding warriors had caught on to what was happening and were piling onto the fight.


    Well, if that¡¯s how it¡¯s gonna be¡­ She angled her face upward and dumped a billowing cloud of pink spores. The assholes who¡¯d stopped to kick her while she was on the ground dropped first. That gave her the chance to get up on her knees and warp the cloud into thin, curling wisps. She did what she could to waft it upward¡ªthough gravity worked against her¡ªconcentrating the miasma on the warriors.


    They fell away, revealing the tangle that was Cort and Quez and the two Jaguars. One of them knocked a wall-mounted torch from its sconce, sprinkling them all with charred bits.


    Leira bit at her lip. The Hallows would just burn away the effects of her spores with their Nirva, and she didn¡¯t want to inebriate Cort and Quez¡ªthough a little bit wouldn¡¯t hurt.


    Beside her, a warrior went blue in the face, sputtering as she choked to death on her own vomit. Leira winced. That was why she would¡¯ve preferred not to resort to this. But these poor people just couldn¡¯t help themselves.


    Leira crawled toward the fight while getting to her feet. She grabbed Cort¡¯s hammer by the handle and¡ªfucking hell, it¡¯s heavy!¡ªspun it toward him as she passed.


    Cort was on his back, pinning Claws down against his chest. Knowing that it wouldn¡¯t hurt a Hallow but not knowing what else to do, Leira aimed a kick at the man¡¯s face and earned herself a deep gash on the ankle. Stupid.


    She jumped back and nudged Cort¡¯s hammer as close as she could without getting cut again by the flailing claws.


    Legs had Quez in the fetal position, laughing as he stomped the shit out of him. ¡°The Sworn Guardian,¡± he said, punctuating his words with kicks, ¡°a worthless, evil traitor. Malikau is ruined.¡±


    Leira her hair at the roots, spinning in place. More and more warriors were becoming aware of the situation and rushing over. They were being hounded by a handful of the friendly zealots, so that was good, but¡­ Fuck!


    She took a deep breath. Everything would be fine. If they really needed it, she would use the Erithist Spike. But she didn¡¯t want to risk that¡ªit was too precious.


    One group of warriors ran in from the far side, a closely packed group of five. They appeared to be defending the one in the middle, as if he were someone important. Leira glimpsed something silvery in that man¡¯s hands.


    Leira wanted to stop him, but another wave came up from behind her. She saw it, though. That warrior delivered something to Legs¡ªa metal shoe. Legs squealed with delight and then gave the warrior a big kiss on the mouth before putting on the shoe.


    ***


    Cort¡¯s back seared with pain that would¡¯ve made Tartarus himself whimper.


    He clenched his teeth against it. Cort hated complaining. He did his fair share of it, yeah, but only about little things, the annoying day-to-day bullshit.


    But the big stuff? Nah. It was shameful to do anything besides grin and bear it. The World doesn¡¯t give a single fuck about anything, so whining just makes you look like a sniveling coward. And whatever powers-that-be? Seemed like when they spotted weakness, they¡¯d gleefully pile on the shit. Out of nothing but spite, probably.


    Cort did have one exception to his ¡®no complaining¡¯ rule, though. He despised fighting Hallows.


    The healing was the worst part, of course. But the fuckers were stronger, faster, more durable. Getting hit by one made it feel like your insides were getting ripped apart, like the Nirva was made of microscopic razorblades. And that was to say nothing of whatever batshit Invoke they might possess. All that because of a random goddamned gift for getting themselves killed. Bull. Shit.


    The problem, though, was he loved fighting Hallows even more than he hated it. Because killing an unstoppable monstrosity like that? As a mortal? Best feeling in the World.


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    Soon as he got a hold of Claws, Cort knew he¡¯d killed stronger Hallows¡ªalbeit not with injuries like these. When he was fighting with a Hallow, something about their Nirva made his skin crawl and it gave him a taste for their strength. This guy didn¡¯t have much.


    But there were two of them. And these warriors, swarming like mosquitoes. And he wanted to try to keep Quez alive¡ªhe figured Leira could fend for herself.


    She¡¯d kicked his hammer within reach, but he hadn¡¯t gone for it yet. He had a good hold on Claws, barring his arms so he couldn¡¯t do anything with his blades.


    Cort was stronger physically, even when the guy ramped his Nirva, but he couldn¡¯t match him in endurance. Keeping Claws held down was like pressing his maximum weight and holding it while it squirmed in his arms. Cort¡¯s shoulder muscles were screaming in agony. He was gonna have to let go soon. If his grip slackened at all, Claws would rip through.


    He lifted his head and saw that Leira and Quez seemed to have things under control with Legs.


    Wait. Claws was flailing with all his strength, swinging wildly. Cort could time it¡­


    Unexpected freedom caused Claws to swing both hands upward at nothing¡ªhe even slashed off his own pinky finger. At the same time, Cort brought his hands together and smashed his clasped fist into Claws¡¯s face.


    Cort threw Claws off of him and rolled himself over to pick up his hammer and get on his feet. His instinct would¡¯ve been to put Claws in a one-armed chokehold and bash him, but that¡¯d only get his arm carved up.


    They stood facing each other, and Cort pushed forward to put himself between Claws and Leira and Quez. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the weird turn that their fight had taken.


    The floor was covered with Leira¡¯s brown acid, and Legs was standing on one hand, hopping around in the puddle. With one of his metal-clad feet, he was fending off Quez¡¯s club strikes. He¡¯d bent his other leg to place his foot in front of his face, and he was wiping the acid off the shoe with a handkerchief.


    Cort risked a backhanded swing into that fight and his hammer was deflected by a kick. What a ridicu¡ª


    Claws rushed him on all fours, skimming over the ground. Cort didn¡¯t know which of these two guys was more bizarre; this bastard was crawling around like an animal. Heh. Like a Jaguar, I guess.


    But he was closing fast. Cort threw his hammer along the ground, forcing Claws to jump up, where Cort met him with a knee to the face. The blades grazed Cort¡¯s shoulder as he spun past, making to retrieve his hammer.


    Claws took advantage of the opening and went for Quez. Cort grabbed his hammer and swung it overhead at his full reach. He caught Claws¡¯s foot and crushed it, stunting his lunge, but the blades still nicked Quez good on his thigh.


    Cort¡¯s breath caught as the blood blossomed. But it wasn¡¯t gushing¡ªthe artery hadn¡¯t been cut.


    Leira yanked Quez away as Cort charged in, knocking over the handstanding dipshit with a hip check before smashing Claws on the spine with his hammer as the man tried to stand.


    Cort¡¯s momentum carried him forward, and he stomped on Claws¡¯s head and then dashed back from the follow-up slash.


    Legs came spinning in like a damned propellor. Cort had to block the erratic kicks¡ªboth high and low¡ªwith his hammer head. The clattering was like a jackhammer.


    Claws rolled on the ground, snarling and slobbering, clutching his crushed foot, but Cort could see it regrowing itself within the straps of his sandal. Leira and Quez stood just behind him. White spores fell from Leira¡¯s eyeflower like snow, webbing over Quez¡¯s wound.


    Cort blocked a kick aimed at his face and then rammed the bottom of the hammer¡¯s handle into Legs¡¯s face, causing the man to spin back to his companion.


    That gave Cort a chance to swing his backpack around to wear it on his front. It¡¯d provide some good padding against the claws. Cort laughed as Leira promptly slipped her own bag onto his back after putting some spores on his re-opened wound.


    A moment to breathe and¡­ holy shit. They were surrounded by a ring of slumbering bodies. Cort hadn¡¯t realized until now how many Malikauans Leira had brought down.


    The flickering torchlight cast erratic shadows as they all circled each other, with Legs and Claws both feinting at attacking. Cort postured against their movements with his hammer. Quez looked something fierce, his face bloody, his teeth bared as he limped on his wounded leg. Maybe he was more of a warrior than Cort had thought.


    Legs cartwheeled forward. Cort made as if to counter but pivoted away, predicting¡ªcorrectly¡ªthat Claws would strike at the same time. The man scampered toward Leira, who leapt back while spraying a stream of acidic spores.


    Cort swung his hammer in a downswing, catching Claws exactly where he meant to¡ªin the claws. The man¡¯s hand was crushed against the floor, but more importantly, his weapon was mangled as Cort ground the hammer down. He went for too much though, and Claws sliced him on the wrist, forcing him to pull back.


    But two of the blades were bent out of shape and one had snapped off. He couldn¡¯t regrow that.


    ¡°You demonic trashfucker!¡± Claws screeched. ¡°Do you have any idea how expensive these were? They¡¯re custom-made. The swordsmith¡¯s waiting list is over a decade long!¡±


    Cort had already swung around to help Quez, who was holding his shield against a relentless battering from Leg¡¯s metal shoes. Cort was just in time to see Quez¡¯s shield crumple, leading to him eating a metal clog right to the jaw.


    He hoisted his hammer overhead and swung straight down, aiming for Legs¡¯s vulnerable groin. Somehow, somefuckinghow, the bastard hooked both legs around the hammer head and, with a Nirva-enhanced twirl of his body, ripped the weapon out of Cort¡¯s hands.


    Cort used the momentum to slam into Legs and tackle him, but they wound up twisted in a sort of sixty-nine position, leaving Cort¡¯s head vulnerable to the thrashing feet. Legs held Cort¡¯s hands down and repeatedly bashed him atop the head with his metal shoes.


    His vision was going fuzzy. Blinking in and out.


    ¡°Cort!¡± Leira shrieked.


    And then Quez was there, attacking like a feral animal. He did enough damage with his club that Cort was able to free his hands.


    Before Cort could make a move, Claws appeared above him, his face stained brown, the skin bubbly, his eyes bloodshot. Leira had her arms around Claws¡¯s neck, clinging to his back as she sprayed him in the face with acid and scratched at his face with her fingers.


    Cort avoided the blades as they struck for his neck only to plunge into his backpack. Ketchup spurted out as dozens of tubes of ztuff were punctured.


    He and Claws both screamed as the flaming hot substance splattered into their eyes. Leira dropped to the floor.


    Blinded, Cort wrestled Claws into a bearhug, keeping the blades stuck within the backpack, though the tips were gouging his stomach.


    Cort clenched his teeth, straining to keep Claws pinned and listening to Quez suffer a brutal beating. Hold on, Quez. Just gimme a few seconds¡­


    Fire. I need fire.

 Chapter Seventy-Four – Second Generation

    As Cort grappled with Claws, Leira threw her arms around their foe, locking him down from the back. Her help enabled Cort to shift his grip to Claws¡¯s elbows. He pressed the arms inward, feeling the pins-and-needles sensation of flared Nirva as the man¡¯s limbs resisted against Cort¡¯s force.


    Craaack. Claws¡¯s arm snapped clean at the elbow. Cort curled his own arm around the broken limb, twisting it out of place before rapidly flapping his arm like a chicken to keep the breakpoint jostled¡ªa trick to stave off a Hallow¡¯s healing.


    But Cort¡¯s repositioning had allowed Claws to free his other hand. The man stabbed his blades backward over his shoulder, aiming for Cort¡¯s neck.


    Cort deflected the blow by jerking his shoulder upward. One blade sank deep into his bicep, and the other sliced his collarbone, scraping against the bone.


    Cort sucked in a shuddering breath as Claws stabbed again and again, relenting only after he sliced off the top of his own ear.


    Feeling woozy, his neck throbbing, Cort realized Quez had gone silent behind him, though the sound of metal splatting against soft flesh persisted.


    Leira still clung to Claws, her hands a mask over his face as she tried to gouge out his eyes while spilling a mess of spores everywhere.


    ¡°Leira,¡± Cort rasped. ¡°Kerosene.¡±


    She immediately sprinted away. She could be pretty smart. Sometimes. Cort swept his hand over the floor, desperately hoping to find his hammer.


    He and Claws were both slicked with blood. Cort¡¯s neck had been cut badly, but he was still breathing so that was something. He could feel Leira¡¯s spores tickling the wound with cool numbness.


    ¡°Cort!¡± Leira had returned with a torch taken from a wall sconce in her hand. ¡°Get away!¡±


    ¡°I can take it,¡± he grunted. ¡°Trust me.¡±


    Claws made a hissing noise. ¡°I¡¯m a full Hallow, you idiot demons. A little bit of fire won¡¯t do¡ª¡±


    Cort¡¯s eyes widened. He¡¯d expected Leira to hesitate, but she did not. He hastily ripped his arms out of the backpack straps and rolled¡ª


    Leira smashed Claws in the back with the torch and then dove away.


    There was a fleeting moment¡ªbefore the blinding flash¡ªwhere Cort saw the flames flicker to life along all the globs of ztuff. The whooshing roar came as he scrambled out of the way.


    Then the backpack exploded. The blast threw him further away. Cort¡¯s ears were ringing and pulsing and everything was spinning. He haplessly flapped his hand against the flames sparking across his body. But Leira had taken her jacket off and was beating them down with much more efficacy.


    Droplets of ztuff were still popping, punching into his flesh like bullets, but most of the flames had been extinguished.


    Cort could tell that his body was well-seared. Luckily, he was already so burnt that he barely felt it¡ªthough the blanket of pink and white spores might have had something to do with that, too. He felt pretty good, actually.


    Claws had not fared so well. The backpack, full of a hundred tubes of ztuff, had detonated in his face. The man was engulfed in flames, and he looked¡­ more like a rack of barbequed ribs than a person. The backpack was a charred heap beside his head. Boom! It exploded again, ripping some flesh from Claws¡¯s bones and then rocketing upward to land on a third-floor balcony.


    ¡°Help Quez,¡± Cort rasped at Leira. She ran off and Cort took up a club from the ground. He saw his hammer but couldn¡¯t be bothered going out of his way for it. No need.


    It was a weird thing, knowing his body was ruined, but still being able to move because he couldn¡¯t feel anything. He hobbled over to Claws.


    The flames had dissipated¡ªztuff burned out quick¡ªbut Claws was still smoldering, and a lot of blackened bones were peeking out where his flesh had peeled away. Despite that, the healing was already happening¡ªlittle pink worms crawling out of burnt tissue. Cort stood over him. Time to destroy the brain.


    Cort went down on one knee and raised the club. A fucking metal shoe blocked his attack. He fell back onto his ass from the impact.


    ¡°Claws!¡± Legs cried. ¡°Can you stand? Run away. Go help Self! I will stay.¡± He aimed a few roundhouse kicks at Cort, forcing him to scamper back.


    ¡°I won¡¯t leave you, brother,¡± Claws choked out. ¡°We must defeat¡­ these demons. Together.¡±


    Legs backed away from Cort and cradled his clone-brother¡¯s face in his hands. ¡°No. We must protect the Self. I will be reborn. I¡¯m past due. But¡­ try to remember this version of me. I had a long run.¡±


    Claws smiled and his teeth were extra visible because of the holes in his cheeks. ¡°The longest run, brother.¡±


    Cort tried to stand as Legs helped Claws up, but he needed some help himself. By the time Cort was on his feet, Claws¡ªdripping blood and trailing smoke¡ªwas limping away.


    Legs flipped onto his hands and grinned. ¡°You won¡¯t get past me.¡±


    Cort lowered his gaze. ¡°You¡¯re dead.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re in no position to fight. And even if you beat me, I won¡¯t die. I embrace the Second Gener¡ª¡±


    Quez, crawling on hands and knees, reached between Legs¡¯s arms and slashed him across the throat. A wave of blood spilled as the top of the man¡¯s head smacked the floor. He flopped down onto his back, his metal shoes landing with a clatter.


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    Invigorated, blood rushing in his ears, Cort retrieved his hammer and dragged it behind him. Legs lay on the floor, his hands clamped over his throat. He spasmed and sputtered, but the blood flow was already slowing as he healed.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Quez wheezed, waving his hands and then falling onto his side at the effort. ¡°Don¡¯t kill him.¡±


    Quez had been brutalized to near unrecognizability. Blood spilled from his mouth, oozing through the gaps where he¡¯d lost teeth and squirting from a missing chunk of his tongue. Two nasty lumps bulged from his forehead and his face was so swollen that his eyes were barely visible.


    Leaning on his hammer, Cort shook his head. ¡°No time.¡±


    ¡°He can give the people the truth. They need¡­ to hear the truth.¡±


    Cort gave those words no consideration. Maybe he was tired or something. His head was empty as he raised his hammer. Leira scurried over and pulled Quez away from Legs.


    The hammer fell. The splat-and-crunch was sickeningly satisfying, as always. Cort gave it a few more swings for good measure, but as he did so, the entire body melted into pink goo and white dust.


    Huh. That didn¡¯t usually happen, but¡­


    ¡®The sheer ambition, to call upon such a superior being, to dangle such tantalizing bait, seeking not to murder, but to control. The entire cosmos shudders at your audacity.¡¯


    Hearing the Deathwish, Cort sighed, and a chill prickled his skin. Another dead Hallow.


    Quez whimpered.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Cort grunted. ¡°I¡¯m not that kinda guy. I don¡¯t care about that stuff. Maybe Gwil¡­¡± He shrugged.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Quez,¡± Leira said brightly. ¡°We¡¯ll get one of the other clones to do it. Or better yet, the big guy himself. Do you think anyone would¡¯ve even listened to one of these Jaguars? They¡¯d probably just think we corrupted him or some shit.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know,¡± Quez said.


    Leira clapped Cort on the back, which made his legs buckle, but she helped him stay upright. Then she took her backpack back from him. ¡°I wasn¡¯t worried. I would¡¯ve used the Erithist Spike if we needed it.¡±


    Cort¡¯s stomach plummeted. He shook his head, mouth agape. ¡°What the fuck, Leira? Why didn¡¯t you use it!¡±


    ¡°Calm down, you didn¡¯t need it. I don¡¯t like the feel of that thing. It¡¯s bad mojo.¡±


    He could only muster a grunt.


    ¡°Damn,¡± she said. ¡°That cost us a lot of ketchup.¡±


    Cort nodded and tongued his missing teeth. He¡¯d been lamenting that, too.


    ***


    Gwil shrank and was immediately stepped on by a leather sandal. He grabbed hold of a strap as the unaware Malikauan took a step and then climbed up their leg. Gwil swung off a tassel that hung from their sash and flung himself onto the top of another person¡¯s head.


    Tezca was a couple dozen paces ahead, stampeding through clusters of frantic Malikauans. Leaving Challe to get through on her own, Gwil hurled himself forward, jumping from head to head.


    Pop. He grew back in a dive and wrapped his arms around Tezca¡¯s neck. Gwil pumped his knees full of Nirva and rammed them into Tezca¡¯s back, using them as leverage to bend Tezca¡¯s neck backward.


    The Warden proved sturdier than an oak tree, so Gwil tightened his arms into a chokehold, flared Nirva, and wrenched himself every which way, trying to throw the prodigious man off balance. It was like wrestling with a hippopotamus.


    Heedless, Tezca mashed his way through all the folks who were trying to defend him, shoving aside the lucky ones and crushing the unlucky ones underfoot. They came to a landing that ran above and along a staircase.


    Green light speared Gwil¡¯s vision and kra-koom! The floor exploded and crumbled into chunks of burning rubble. Gwil shrank and secured himself within a neck flab as Tezca lost his footing and fell down onto the stairs.


    They¡¯d rolled almost to the bottom when Tezca got stuck, crammed between the two narrow walls with his limbs all tangled up.


    Pop. Kneeling on the man¡¯s back, Gwil beat his fists into the back of Tezca¡¯s bald head. It felt like punching a bag of sand. Oh right.


    Gwil felt around in the pile of still-hot rubble until he found a particularly jagged chunk.


    ¡°Imperv¡ª¡±


    Gwil slammed the rock down¡ªnot on Tezca¡¯s head, where the man was likely focusing his Nirva¡ªbut on his hand, which was sticking upright, splayed flat against the wall.


    The bones cracked and Gwil followed up with a couple of horizontal slashes, severing one finger and leaving another dangling.


    Tezca¡¯s fingers were chunky and sausage-like, but the digits were not nearly so protected by flab as the rest of his body.


    ¡°Ow! You stupid motherfucker!¡± Tezca wailed at a blood-curdling pitch.


    Gwil blinked and smashed the rock down again, drawing another anguished squeal. Tezca appeared to have a low tolerance for pain. Gwil found that strange, because when he himself lost a finger, he barely noticed. When Nirva was flowing, even getting disemboweled didn¡¯t hurt exactly. He¡¯d describe it more like¡­ crippling discomfort.


    Prolly ¡®cause he¡¯s such a whiny asshole, Gwil concluded as he smashed Tezca¡¯s thumb. Then he had the idea that, if Tezca was suffering so much, it¡¯d be better to stave off the healing than go for more damage. Gwil shifted his grip on the chunk of stone and then drove the pointiest end into the stumps of Tezca¡¯s severed fingers.


    The man squealed and writhed, kicking his feet like an enraged toddler. Gwil grabbed Tezca¡¯s wrist and bent his arm backward against the socket while continuing to drill the rock into the exposed bones, grinding them into little bits.


    Gwil caught a flash of movement in his peripheral, but it was just Challe bounding down the stairs.


    Screaming ¡°Why, why, why?¡±, Challe shoved Gwil aside with her two right arms and kicked Tezca in his sputtering face.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t work, Challe,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You gotta cut him if you wanna hurt him.¡± He held up his extra-sharp rock and then put it in his pocket.


    Gwil¡¯s eyes went wide as Challe took his suggestion to heart. With one of her left hands, she jammed two fingers into Tezca¡¯s nostrils and pulled upward. With the other, she drove a thumb into Tezca¡¯s eyeball.


    ¡°Perfect,¡± Gwil said, giving her a thumbs up. ¡°Keep doing that so he can¡¯t heal. But watch out for his teeth!¡±


    ¡°Why did you do this to us?¡± Challe screamed with such force that Gwil¡¯s bones vibrated.


    ¡°Your asshole ancestors killed me first!¡± Tezca blubbered.


    A couple of heavy somethings landed on top of Gwil. ¡°What the¡ª Hey, go away!¡±


    Malikauans were filling the staircase, pouring in from the top and jumping down from above.


    ¡°I¡¯ll deal with them, Challe,¡± Gwil said. ¡°You two have your chat.¡±


    Gwil knocked a few people back while getting to his feet. The staircase was packed, and more were piling on. ¡°Stop that, you idiots. You¡¯re gonna hurt yourselves.¡±


    He pulsed Nirva into his arms and pushed upward, heaving a bunch of people back up onto the remnants of the landing. Few of them had weapons, so Gwil was able to corral everyone away in short order.


    ¡°Listen to me!¡± Challe said, and the force of the storm became as breath in Challe¡¯s lungs. ¡°I am no Vessel. There is no Goddess.¡±


    ¡°Blasphemous traitor!¡±


    ¡°Trust in the Elder Warden!¡±


    Gwil felt the swelling of thick, stifling heat. But he noticed something. The storm outside wasn¡¯t ebbing away like it had before when Challe channeled it. The thunder continued to rumble and boom; the hail delivered its incessant battering.


    He looked up at the temple¡¯s ceiling and used Mir. The hewn stones flashed away to reveal a churning black mass, a fearsome sea as wide as the horizon. Slivers and specks of jade painted the storm¡¯s violent breadth, but Gwil could sense their insignificance. The storm belonged less to Challe and more to the sky.


    Gwil shrugged, hoping that maybe it was a good thing.


    ¡°Silence!¡± Challe commanded. The Malikauans recoiled and cowered. Several of them bled from their ears.


    Challe grinned and something like a skull shadowed her face. Tezca whimpered as she tore at his nose. It was already halfway ripped off.


    ¡°All of you will hear me,¡± Challe said. Gwil could see that she was only whispering, but her words carried like a furious wind.


    Gwil grimaced. Something was off. Something had shifted. What the hell is going on with her powers?

 Chapter Seventy-Five – The Truth Hurts

    ¡°Yes or no,¡± Challe spat. ¡°Is the Progenitor alive?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a tricky thing,¡± Tezca said, his voice stilted, probably on account of how his nose was being ripped off his face. He squealed as Challe wrenched it. ¡°Yes.¡±


    With blazing green eyes, Challe looked at her fellow Malikauans. ¡°See how he¡¯s lied to us?¡± She turned back to Tezca. ¡°Why?¡± she asked with a crack.


    ¡°Fear. Control. Scarcity. Revenge,¡± Tezca whimpered. He flailed and a quick flash of lightning burst from Challe¡¯s palm, scalding his face. ¡°No matter what I did, you all deserved this. Your ancestors betrayed me!¡±


    Challe adjusted one of her hands to plunge her pinky finger into Tezca¡¯s other eye; both were being perpetually gouged out. His face was smushed against the stairs, blood streaming down the charred patch in the middle, and his nose hung by a sliver.


    ¡°Eh, you¡¯re kind of torturing him, Challe,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I dunno if that¡¯s¡­¡±


    Challe ignored him. ¡°Answer my questions,¡± she hissed. ¡°Nothing else.¡±


    The surrounding Malikauans were recovering themselves. Gwil jumped up and spanned the two walls with his legs so that he could simultaneously fend people off from above and below.


    ¡°Hundreds of my brothers and sisters were sacrificed to maintain the Gracestorm. What did it protect us from?¡±


    ¡°I made you into a god,¡± Tezca cried. ¡°Look how many arms you have.¡±


    ¡°What did it protect us from?¡±


    ¡°Help me, you fools!¡± Tezca pleaded. ¡°Stop this madness. The demons have driven the Vessel to insanity.¡±


    ¡°What did it protect us from?¡±


    ¡°None of you understand anything. I kept you safe from the cruel World.¡±


    Challe ripped Tezca¡¯s nose off and smashed a rock into the gaping cavity.


    ¡°Nothing!¡± Tezca said, sobbing. ¡°I protected you from nothing. You worship nothing but lies and a dead goddess.¡±


    ¡°Do you hear him?¡± Challe said. ¡°The World has not ended. There are no demons. Is this the truth?¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, gods-fucking-pissing-shit, yes!¡±


    She twisted the rock. ¡°Say the words. Say that it¡¯s the truth.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the truth. It¡¯s the truth.¡±


    Gwil looked over his shoulder to see Challe burying her fingers in the flaps of Tezca¡¯s ruined face. She was ripping it apart. Tezca flailed like a dying beetle.


    She¡¯d caught on quick about fighting a Hallow, but Gwil wasn¡¯t sure this was the best way to convince her people of her cause. They were freaking out about the face-ripping.


    ¡°Who were those red-eyed soldiers? Where did all our food come from? Who built this temple?¡±


    ¡°I saved our people from the Leviathan!¡± Tezca said. ¡°I made a deal with those who rule this World. I only kept a portion for myself. Arghhhh! It¡¯s called taxes, you lunatic bitch! There¡¯s nothing wrong with taxes. Arghhh! They¡¯re the foundation of a functioning society.¡±


    Gwil got hit in the groin by a candelabra wielded by a feral-looking green-haired woman. He lost his footing on the wall. He fell onto the mass of bodies that had surged forward at his lapse. More Malikauans piled on top of him.


    ¡°Challe!¡± Gwil yelled as he extracted himself. ¡°It¡¯s not working. They¡¯re not listening. You shouldn¡¯t have ripped his fa¡ª¡± A shimmering cloud of white-silver vapor drifted past Gwil¡¯s face. It smelled like pork.


    ¡°Bullshit!¡± Tezca said. ¡°All bullshit and driveling lies. I ripped half of it from an Old World pulp novel. I wrote the other half while I was on the shitter, you crazy¡ª¡±


    Tezca¡¯s body absorbed the ethereal substance. His skin glowed and the flaps of his face slapped back together like elastic. His nose regrew in an instant.


    ¡°Wiggling Sausage Technique!¡± Tezca¡¯s dislocated arm flopped backward, smacking Challe in the face with a clapping crunch.


    ¡°YOU KILLED MY LEGS!¡± Tezca roared. He rolled over and buried Challe beneath his body. ¡°Fuck all of you!¡± Strings of slobber dangled from his mouth. ¡°Beloved Malikauans my ass! Look what you let happen to me! Three of my clones are dead and my nose got ripped off. You are all worthless trash, fit for nothing but enslav¡ªI mean servitude. I spared your sorry lives, gave you the gift of security for centuries, and this is how you repay me? You wanna know why I imprisoned you?¡±


    Blood thumped in Gwil¡¯s ears. This had spiraled out of control in an eyeblink. Flashing green light peeked out from beneath Tezca¡¯s belly, but he seemed wholly unbothered.


    Stolen story; please report.


    Gwil threw his arms wide and, with a wave of Nirva, shoved the crowd back, sending them up the stairs.


    He whipped around and hit Tezca in the face with a flying kick. Tezca caught Gwil¡¯s boot with a shark-like snap of his jaws. Gwil was glad he hadn¡¯t kicked with his bare foot. He flared Nirva and twisted himself free.


    Tezca picked up chunks of rubble and threw them at the Malikauans. ¡°Because I am strong, and you all are weak! That¡¯s why! Because I am an intellectual, and you all are idiots. I did it because I can. That is the way of this World. No one can hide from her cruelty.¡±


    Gwil caught a long hunk of stone that Tezca had thrown like a javelin¡ªa piece of the banister that had lined the landing. He held it upright and faked a swing. When Tezca raised his arms to block, Gwil flipped the thing around and stuffed it under Tezca¡¯s belly like a shovel.


    He Nirva-stomped the raised end and then threw his shoulder against Tezca¡¯s leveraged girth, excavating an opening for Challe to crawl out.


    As he held that position, Tezca grabbed Gwil¡¯s ankle and pulled his leg out. Gwil dangled as Tezca brought his foot to his mouth and opened wide.


    ¡°Fucking cannibal!¡± Gwil screamed.


    And then his foot and Tezca¡¯s hand were both incinerated by a bolt of lightning. The strike collapsed the base of the stairs and three of them tumbled to the bottom where they were buried by debris.


    Pop. Pop. Gwil shrank, flared Nirva, and unshrank to blast himself out of the rubble. Beside him, Challe dug herself out. She looked vicious with her extra arms spread like wings, her eyes and jadestones glowing, her braids all coming apart as her hair fanned out from the static charge. A gash on her cheek closed itself up.


    Gwil grinned at her and then he heard a lot of screaming.


    He turned in time to see two fountains of blood spew out from amidst the crowded Malikauans. They¡¯d packed themselves all the way to the precipice of the broken staircase, and a few were falling down as their comrades pushed against them. More blood sprayed and people started jumping off the stairs on purpose, pouring down and scrambling over the rubble.


    What the hell? Gwil glanced at Tezca, who was just shouting nonsense and throwing rocks, then went to see about this sudden butchery.


    A shadow flickered through the mob. Challe cried out. The moment Gwil processed it, three blades punched through his stomach. Gwil threw his arms around Claws and held tight to mitigate the man¡¯s attempts at slashing up his organs.


    Face-to-face with Claws, Gwil grinned upon seeing that the man¡¯s skin was all messed up¡ªred and shiny and bubbly.


    With a burst of Nirva, Claws ripped one arm free and stabbed Gwil straight through the adam¡¯s apple. That was something that hadn¡¯t happened to him yet, and the sensation was terribly unpleasant.


    Gwil sent Nirva into his arms and raised them to block the next attack, but it didn¡¯t come. Instead, Claws threw him down and ran past.


    ¡°Self! Self! Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Claws, you imbecile,¡± Tezca groaned as he rolled himself onto his feet. ¡°You¡¯re late and you let Legs die.¡±


    Getting berated by Tezca and murdered by Claws was enough to finally break the spirits of the gathered Malikauans. They all fled, screaming and crying, running back up the stairs and scattering into the various hallways.


    As Gwil lay there poking at his adam¡¯s apple, which felt weirdly similar to a walnut, Challe jumped over him. An eruption of thunder shook the entire temple as she went charging after Claws.


    Green lightning gathered in her four hands. Claws whipped around and dipped behind her, lopping off both her right hands as he passed. Then he plunged his other blades, which Gwil noticed were all fucked up and broken, into her abdomen and circled around her back, slashing all the way.


    ¡°Challe!¡± Gwil garbled out. ¡°Oh, shit.¡± Pop. He shrank and his neck promptly sealed up. He really needed to stop forgetting about that trick.


    ¡°I¡¯ll kill you, traitor Vessel,¡± Claws spat.


    As he reached down to stab her in the face, Gwil slammed into his wrist, diverting the attack. Clinging to the silk sleeve of Claws¡¯s robe, Gwil embiggened, pulling Claws to the ground.


    Gwil somersaulted backward, flipping Claws over with him. He pumped his legs full of Nirva and drilled both feet into Claws¡¯s stomach, flinging him upward.


    ¡°Excuse me, Claws,¡± Tezca said. ¡°You owe me an explanation. I¡¯d appreciate if you told me why my Legs is dead while you are alive.¡±


    Gwil crawled over to Challe. ¡°You¡¯re okay, you¡¯re okay. Just breathe. You¡¯re gonna heal. I know it¡¯s scary.¡±


    She looked at him, her face broken by anguish. ¡°What is happening to me?¡± she whimpered. ¡°I feel so angry. What am I¡­?¡±


    Gwil shook his head. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine once we fix this.¡±


    Claws was on all fours, gagging as he tried to speak. ¡°Le-Legs sacrificed himself for you, Self. He stayed behind so we could escape.¡±


    Tezca held the back of his hand to his forehead and wailed, ¡°Everything is being taken away from me. It¡¯s not fair. Oh, Legs! His first death. He really was the best of you. Except for Body. Oh, Body! But Legs will be reborn, better than ever. Taller than ever.¡±


    Tezca wiped his nose with his hand and flicked the snot off. It landed with a splatter. ¡°I¡¯ve just about had it with you little demons!¡± He drew himself fully upright. ¡°Claws¡ªI want them dead. They¡¯re both Hallowed. Let¡¯s turn their brains into applesauce.¡±


    Kneeling beside Challe, Gwil¡¯s eyes darted between the two bastards as they closed in. ¡°Cort and Leira killed Legs, yeah?¡±


    Claws sneered. ¡°If that¡¯s the big redhead and the flower bitch, then yes. It was them.¡±


    ¡°Ha! Get fucked. And you ran away from them after they killed your friend?¡±


    Claws snarled and rushed forward. Gwil waited¡­ then shrank at the last second, aiming his tininess upward into his head as Claws dove beneath him.


    Pop. Big again, Gwil stomped Claws¡¯s face into the floor. He dropped to a crouch, locking Claws¡¯s head between his knees, and then reached into his pocket for his extra-sharp rock, intending to bash Claws¡¯s head in with it.


    He came out with a shrunken pebble and laughed as he grabbed Claws by his single stuck-up peak of hair and wrenched his head around. With his other hand, Gwil stuffed the little rock into the man¡¯s ear and drove it deep with his thumb.


    Gwil thought the pounding sound was thunder, but he learned that it was Tezca¡¯s footsteps when the man rocked him across the face, launching him into the wall.


    ¡°Ahhhh!¡± Gwil screamed as he tried to get up. His head was facing the wrong way! Tezca¡¯s punch had twisted his head around a full one-hundred and eighty degrees.


    ¡°I call that one the Pineapple Upside-Down Cake Technique,¡± Tezca said. He held his fist to his mouth and blew on it like it was a pistol.


    Gwil gingerly attempted to twist his neck back, but whenever he moved it, his body spasmed. It wasn¡¯t so bad, anyway. It could even be handy, being able to see behind himself. Though he couldn¡¯t see frontwards now, so¡­ Six of one, half a dozen of the other, he figured. Caris was always saying that.


    He turned to face Challe, then turned again the right way¡ªthis would take some getting used to¡ªand gave her a backwards wave. Her fingers had grown back to the first knuckle, and her abdominal wounds were healing up nicely. There¡¯d be a bit of scarring, but that was to be expected when she was new to it.


    She was curled up in a ball with her eyes squeezed shut, shaking and clawing at the stone floor.

 Chapter Seventy-Six – In One Ear

    Tezca picked Claws up by his head and winked an eye to peer inside his ear. Claws had sliced up his own face and neck while trying to get the piece of rock out.


    ¡°Let me help, you idiot,¡± Tezca said, shoving his fingers into Claws¡¯s earhole while the man struggled against him.


    ¡°Stop, Self, stop!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m helping!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not. Your fingers are too big. You¡¯re just¡ªahhh¡ªpushing it deeper.¡±


    Tezca gasped and dropped his clone to the floor. ¡°How dare you!¡±


    Gwil curled up with laughter, a strange thing while his head was on backwards. He felt like a banana or a rocking horse. Oh, man. I could get used to this.


    ¡°Just leave it,¡± Claws said, scrambling away. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I can¡¯t feel it anymore. You fixed it. You pushed it all the way in.¡±


    ¡°You need to stop messing around, Claws,¡± Tezca said. ¡°We must deal with these demons quickly and then make our escape. Yuma must be close by now. I¡­ fear that I¡¯ve botched the gathering of the servants.¡±


    ¡°Oh, me too,¡± Claws said, standing up while repeatedly suctioning his ear with his palm. ¡°I killed a bunch of them on my way here.¡±


    ¡°Whoops,¡± Tezca said. ¡°No matter. I¡¯m sure Tail did his job and is presently on the ship, along with a gaggle of servants, patiently awaiting our triumphant arrival. We will rebuild.¡±


    ¡°What are you guys talking about?¡± Gwil said, stumbling toward them. It was hard to walk like this¡ªhe found it most natural to sidle along. He struggled to breathe too, with his neck all knotted up. ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere.¡±


    Tezca clapped his hands. ¡°Mwahaha! What do you care? You¡¯ll be dead.¡±


    ¡°Erm, Self?¡± Claws said, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. ¡°Don¡¯t we want to retrieve the Goddess¡¯s corpse before we leave?¡±


    Tezca¡¯s mouth hung open as he slowly turned to face Claws. ¡°WHAT? Do you mean to tell me you haven¡¯t already secured her corpse? What have you been doing all this time? Are you fucking kidding me, Claws?¡±


    ¡°N-No, Self,¡± Claws said. ¡°How could I have? I only just thought of it. I didn¡¯t realize¡ª¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t realize?¡± Tezca roared. ¡°I explicitly told you to go down and get it.¡±


    Claws shook his head. ¡°No. You didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I did.¡±


    ¡°No, you really didn¡¯t, Self!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t argue with me, Claws. Not ever. Dammit. Umm¡­¡± Tezca held out his hands and raised them up and down in imitation of a scale. ¡°Right. The corpse of the Goddess is much more valuable than petty revenge. Congratulations, demon boy, you get a stay of execution. Best of luck dealing with Yuma.¡±


    With that, Tezca turned and ran toward the stairs. Driven by Nirva, silvery vapor trailing in his wake, he moved with impressive speed, his sandaled feet cracking the pavestones with every step.


    For two heartbeats, Gwil and Claws stared at each other. Then Claws went running after his maker.


    ¡°Wh- Hey!¡± Tripping into a sort of gallop, Gwil chased after them. ¡°Hurry, Challe!¡±


    Gwil turned as he reached the collapsed staircase. Challe was still lying there. He hadn¡¯t expected her to follow him, but he¡¯d hoped the sense of urgency might get her on her feet.


    He went back to her and fell over when he tried to kneel, his sense of balance thrown off by his backward-facing head. Gwil shook Challe¡¯s shoulder, but she only turned away¡ªneedlessly, for her disheveled hair fully blanketed her head.


    Gwil plinked on one of her jadestones with his fingernail. ¡°Get up. They¡¯re getting away.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± she shrieked, and the accompanying thunderclap shook the ground beneath Gwil¡¯s feet. Still, the storm was not ebbing with her outbursts as it had before.


    ¡°Gah, I know this sucks, Challe,¡± Gwil wheezed. He grabbed his throat and roughly massaged it to open a better airway. ¡°Getting upset isn¡¯t gonna help. You need to be angry, not sad.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m furious, Gwil,¡± Challe said, bolting upright. Her eyes glittered with welling tears as she bit down on her lip. ¡°That¡¯s the problem. I-I-I don¡¯t know who I am. What I¡¯m doing. I can¡¯t control myself. I¡¯ve been hurting people. I feel crazy.¡± She slammed her hands on the floor and drilled her fingers into the stone, ripping off the fingernails and drawing blood. ¡°I can¡¯t get these stains off my hands and when I try, there¡¯s just more blood.¡±


    Gwil poked himself in the eye when he tried to reach around to scratch his chin. The novelty had already worn off¡ªhe needed to get his head turned the right way around.


    He placed his palms on his temples and twisted, but as soon as he applied force, his legs kicked out in a split and his body went completely numb.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Dammit. Maybe he could trick Tezca into knocking it back into place.


    ¡°No problem,¡± Gwil said, as his nerves tingled back into working order. ¡°I¡¯ll carry you.¡± He picked Challe up¡ªfumbling a bit since he couldn¡¯t see what he was doing¡ªand cradled her in his arms. ¡°Hey, why does Tezca want the statue so bad if it¡¯s just a corpse?¡±


    Challe ignored his question. Gwil galloped over to the stairs, jumped up onto the broken end, and proceeded to the top. He hesitated at the three-way intersection. ¡°Could you at least tell me which way to go?¡±


    Gwil leaned forward to lean backward, so they were face to face. ¡°Hellooo.¡±


    Her lips twitched with something that might¡¯ve been a smile. ¡°Straight,¡± she said.


    That gave Gwil an idea. He set her down, and she didn¡¯t drop to the floor in despair¡ªa good sign.


    ¡°But we need to¡ª¡±


    Gwil waved her off. ¡°Watch this.¡± He sat down and started doing sit-ups, smacking his face into the floor with every rep.


    ¡°Huh? What are¡ªthat¡¯s not funny, Gwil. It¡¯s horrible, and it¡¯s my fault this happened to you. All of this is my fault. I¡¯m so scared.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid,¡± Gwil said. ¡°If not for you, I wouldn¡¯t have gotten to have this interesting experience. How about this?¡±


    He switched to push-ups, his face facing the ceiling. Then he crawled around like that. ¡°Now I really do look like a demon.¡±


    Nothing.


    He stood up. ¡°Look, if I do this¡­¡± He bent all the way over, putting his head between his legs, and then he walked toward her. ¡°I can see forward, just like normal. Can you even tell that something¡¯s messed up?


    Challe covered her mouth, but a smile peeked out from behind her hand.


    ¡°Top o¡¯ the mornin¡¯ to ya,¡± Gwil said, holding out his hand for Challe to shake. ¡°My name is Norman.¡±


    ¡°Stop that, st¡ª¡± Her voice broke into laughter. And it was a good laugh. She had such a deep, powerful voice, and it translated into an infectious, raucous laugh.


    Gwil sprang up and turned to face her, grinning wide. ¡°I don¡¯t think I ever heard you laugh before. When you come with us, you¡¯re gonna be laughing all the time.¡±


    Before she could respond, he grabbed her wrist and started running, dragging her until she fell in step with him. ¡°We gotta catch up. Which way?¡±


    Challe took the lead, and they returned to the atrium¡¯s grand central pavilion.


    An intensity still choked the air, but the fighting had ended, save for a few small scuffles relegated to the outskirts of the space.


    Beleaguered Malikauans were spread all throughout the atrium. Some huddled in small, quiet groups. Some wandered alone, dazed. Others were frantic¡ªwailing at the cavernous ceiling above, running around, checking over dead bodies. Protective circles had formed up around clusters of injured as they received treatment.


    ¡°See?¡± Gwil said to Challe, who had halted upon entering. ¡°It¡¯s gonna be okay.¡±


    A host of loud voices dominated the discordant atmosphere. Several men and women spoke from elevated positions¡ªplatforms and piles of rubble¡ªwith large groups gathered around them, listening to their words.


    Gwil couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying, but he recognized a few of the faces. Most of the speakers were people who he¡¯d fought off in the staircase. They¡¯d witnessed the events with Tezca and Claws.


    One woman stood out to him, not only because of the blood that masked her face, not only because of her green hair, not only because she was the one who struck him with the candelabra. No, it was something in her tone, at once beseeching and strong.


    Gwil was shocked to see that, off to the side of that woman¡¯s audience, Leira and¡­ Cort? sat huddled against the wall, along with their piled-up gear. For a fleeting second, Gwil hoped to find the snaketopus among them, but the creature wasn¡¯t there¡­


    Still, his excitement at finding them made him yelp with joy as he galloped toward them.


    ¡°Cort! What happened to you?¡±


    ¡°Gwil! What the fuck?¡± Leira cried.


    Cort lay on his back, propped up slightly, and it looked like he was wearing twelve sweaters and six pairs of snowpants. His whole body was wrapped in a cast of Leira¡¯s white, webby substance, so thick there was no way he could move his arms and legs.


    Gwil reached him and then turned around so he could look at Cort¡¯s uncovered face.


    Cort sneered and the cocoon-like formation creaked as he made a jerky, stunted movement. A bundle of spores was bunched up beneath Cort¡¯s jaw, so when he spoke, his voice came out as a gravelly growl.


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk to me until your head¡¯s facing the right way.¡±


    Leira laughed and so did Challe, though she¡¯d sat down next to Eagle-man¡ªwho also looked ravaged and was also covered in globs of white spores. He was listening to the green-haired woman¡¯s speech, enraptured.


    Gwil leaned down and poked Cort on the nose. ¡°Nice job killing Legs, you guys. I saw how you fucked up Claws, too.¡±


    ¡°What about the big one, Gwil?¡± Leira asked. ¡°What happened? What¡¯s with your¡­ neck?¡±


    ¡°He socked me a good one, but uhh, we¡¯re looking for them. Tezca and Claws. They ran away. Did you see them? They want to take Challe¡¯s statue and then try to escape.¡±


    ¡°Not mine,¡± Challe spat.


    Leira looked toward the gaping hole in the floor on the far side of the pavilion, which led to the crucifix pit. ¡°They didn¡¯t come through here.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there,¡± Cort grunted. ¡°If that¡¯s where they¡¯re going, they must have taken a different path.¡±


    ¡°Right. Ready, Challe?¡± She stood, but¡­ ¡°Wait, are you okay, Eagleman?¡± Gwil asked, though he no longer wore his eagle hat.


    This whole time Quez had not looked away from the green-haired woman. He wore a placid smile all the while. Even at Gwil¡¯s question, he¡¯d nodded without turning. Gwil took a moment to listen to her.


    ¡°¡­Brothers and sisters, the blood you see on my face is the blood of our sister. The clawed Jaguar, who we have known as the Elder Warden, slit her throat. I will never be able to cleanse this stain, nor do I deserve to¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Lall,¡± Challe said. ¡°Quez is in love with her.¡±


    Gwil nodded. ¡°She smashed my balls with a candlestick.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Lall for you,¡± Quez said, finally turning to face them. ¡°She was a fierce loyalist to Tezca and the Jaguars.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cort said. ¡°She tried to get your own warriors to execute you, Quez.¡±


    Quez nodded enthusiastically. ¡°She¡¯s as loyal as can be. She came here leading a host of others who witnessed Challe¡¯Jade¡¯s clash with Tezca. They saw his crimes, heard his testimony. They¡¯ve been screaming the truth at the top of their lungs. For Lall to have turned¡­ Her words carry a lot of weight. Others will follow her.¡±


    ¡°Ooh!¡± Gwil yelled. ¡°Nice one, Challe¡ªyour violent brutality paid off. This is great. You¡¯re all gonna be living it up when those assholes are gone. Let¡¯s go, Challe.¡±


    Leira tugged at his sleeve as he made to walk away. ¡°Gwil, remember that a King is coming.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We won¡¯t let him do shit. Wait here, guys. We¡¯ll be right back.¡±


    Gwil galloped off and Challe ran alongside him.


    ¡°Gwil!¡± Leira shouted. ¡°Ask Tezca about the Oubliette!¡±


    He flashed a thumbs-up over his shoulder as he and Challe danced through the Malikauans. No one attacked them. No one screamed at them to call them ¡®demon¡¯ or ¡®traitor¡¯.


    Gwil frowned. It seemed to him that things were going in the right direction, but Challe didn¡¯t look as happy as he would¡¯ve thought.


    Maybe she was just focusing on the task at hand. This wasn¡¯t over yet, and Tezca was a wily bastard. Gwil thought he¡¯d better focus up, too.


    They reached the chasm in the floor. The enormous statue of Claws-Warden still lay within the fissure, providing a way down into the auditorium.


    Instead, Gwil grabbed Challe¡¯s hand, and they jumped.

 Chapter Seventy-Seven – A Mother’s Love

    Gwil and Challe landed beside the empty pedestal of the Goddess. One of her human arms had broken off¡ªthe one that cradled a sculpted baby. It lay atop the desecrated sand.


    Carnage filled the pit¡ªthe corpses of Malikauan warriors and Leviathan troopers. Little dried-out rivers ran from their bodies and the sand was chunky with congealed blood. Encircling the space were the broken crucifixes and the burnt husks of the former Vessels.


    Without the radiance of the jade statue, gloom filled the auditorium. But at the far end, through the doors, in the hallway beyond, a swaying green light cast two figures as silhouettes.


    Challe went tearing after them. Gwil scooped up the broken arm as he followed. ¡°These make great weapons,¡± he told her. He grabbed a bladed club, too, and slipped it into his jacket¡¯s inside pocket.


    ¡°They¡¯re here, Self!¡± Claws cried as Gwil and Challe entered the hallway.


    ¡°We¡¯d already be gone if you were doing your part, Claws,¡± Tezca bellowed.


    They each carried one end of the hulking statue. Tezca had the forward-facing position, holding the feet-end aloft above his head. This meant that the statue¡¯s weight was bearing down on Claws, who stumbled backwards, barely keeping his feet.


    This hall, too, was full of Malikauan corpses, though they¡¯d been purposefully lain along the walls. Their dead faces looked eerie in the green light.


    Gwil galloped ahead, taking a moment to orient himself to the direction of his head. He drew back the Goddess¡¯s broken arm as he came up alongside Tezca.


    He chucked the arm¡ªhefty baby-end first¡ªlike a lopsided javelin, straight at Claws¡¯s defenseless face.


    Claws¡¯s neck snapped back with such a brutal crack that Gwil thought he might have a comrade-in-twisted-headedness.


    The man fell, dropping the statue as Tezca heedlessly plowed forward. The Goddess¡¯s eagle-like head fell, not to the ground, nor even onto Claws¡¯s toe. No, the momentum drove it into his chest. Blood spurted as the beak slammed down, gouging his stomach.


    As Claws screamed in agony, Tezca roared with rage. ¡°Argh! Why can¡¯t everyone just leave. Me. Alone!¡± He heaved the massive statue and hurled it at Gwil and Challe.


    Gwil pulled Challe away, but the statue¡¯s height exceeded the hallway¡¯s width, so it got wedged and crashed to the floor in front of them. One wing broke off, losing its glow. The protuberant humanish face that was carved out of the wing¡¯s surface receded inward and smoothed away, like a fading ripple in a pond.


    Challe and the storm screamed in tandem. She charged forward and clambered up the statue, which lay across the hall, separating them from Tezca. Gwil jumped up after her.


    And saw Tezca, sitting on the floor, head bowed, legs out, like a sad little kid. Stunned, Gwil was not in time to catch Challe, who loosed a visceral shriek as she jumped down.


    Four arms splayed out like wings, she threw herself at Tezca, ripping, clawing. Little bolts of lightning crackled out of her hands to scald Tezca¡¯s face. He sat there and took it, unmoving, unflinching. Vacant, like a depressed dog without a care for its surroundings.


    Gwil fell¡ªbecause of his head¡ªas he climbed down from the statue. He hurriedly got up and barred all of Challe¡¯s arms from behind, trying to wrestle her back. Her Nirva burned him, and he had to focus his own to match her.


    ¡°You destroyed my home,¡± Tezca blubbered. ¡°Stay here and die if you want but let us leave. I just want to go home.¡±


    ¡°Challe!¡± Gwil said through clenched teeth. He had to kick her legs out and bring her down to get her to stop. She tried to claw at his face, but only scratched at the back of his head. ¡°Ha! Finally something useful,¡± he said as he sat on two of Challe¡¯s arms and leaned his elbow on her chest to pin her. He lowered his head to look up at Tezca¡¯s bowed face. ¡°Tezca, what the hell is this? I knew you¡¯re a big wimp, but c¡¯mon.¡±


    A few meters ahead, Claws rolled around on the ground, groaning. ¡°Seriously, Self,¡± he said between gags. ¡°This is embarrassing.¡±


    ¡°Hahaha!¡± Tezca spat. A small cloud of white-silver vapor drifted from Claws to Tezca. ¡°Have fun healing your intestines at a snail¡¯s pace, asshole. Speak again and you die.¡±


    Claws stifled a cry and writhed in silence.


    Gwil furrowed his brow. ¡°Well, I¡¯m down for this, but you gotta apologize and¡ª¡± Challe kneed him square in the face, since it was turned toward her feet. ¡°Stop it, Challe! Tezca¡ªyou gotta apologize and let the Malikauans decide what to do with you.¡±


    ¡°Apologize? You¡¯re the one who should apologize¡ªyou and this traitor Vessel. You got everything destroyed. You brought the Leviathan here.¡±


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    ¡°All of that was your fault ¡®cause you started it,¡± Gwil said.


    Tezca looked up at that, wide-eyed. ¡°Are you insane? I¡¯m still going to run away. I just need to gather my thoughts. It¡¯s been a hard day.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Gwil said. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna let you do that. All these people¡­ You stole something that can¡¯t be returned. That can¡¯t go unpunished, even if I think you¡¯re a funny guy. Sorry.¡±


    Tezca flopped down onto his back, covered his mouth, and screamed into his hand. ¡°I just don¡¯t know how to explain this in a way that you will understand. Yuma is coming. He is a King. You stole the incredibly precious Erithist Spike and, even worse, ruined the ritual¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, the Oubliette! What the hell is with that corpse and the weird building that grew out of it?¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Tezca said. ¡°As if I¡¯d ever tell you that.¡±


    ¡°Why not, if you¡¯re running away?¡± Gwil asked as Challe flailed beneath him, growling. He adjusted his hold on her.


    ¡°Because you pissed me off a lot! And also, I don¡¯t really know.¡±


    ¡°Huh? But it¡¯s in your basement.¡±


    ¡°That wretched thing predates me by centuries. Here¡¯s everything I know. It was created at the end of the Apocalypse. Not only that, but it played a crucial role in ending the Apocalypse. And there are many more sites just like it, scattered all over the World.¡±


    ¡°Cool, thanks. But I thought you weren¡¯t gonna tell me anything.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t, but then I remembered I¡¯m just as angry at Yuma as I am at you, and revealing this secretive information would piss him off. If not for him, I wouldn¡¯t have to run away. I¡¯d just kill you.¡±


    Gwil laughed. ¡°You can¡¯t kill me.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be rude while I¡¯m trying to help you!¡± Tezca said. ¡°You¡¯re the one who asked.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s more my friend that wants to¡ªGuzuzuzah!¡±


    A bolt of lightning struck Gwil, and his body went rigid. Challe got out from under him as he flared Nirva to heal his scorched and deadened parts.


    ¡°I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!¡± Challe screamed as she slapped Tezca across the face with the incredible efficiency afforded by her extra hands.


    He just wailed.


    Gwil scuffled with her as she fought him off with two hands and continued slapping with the others. He finally pulled her away by wrapping his arms around her waist and dragging her down.


    ¡°Thank you, Will,¡± Tezca said as he took out a container of deviled eggs and popped one into his mouth. As he chewed, the bleeding scratches on his face healed.


    ¡°Oo, can I have one of those?¡± Gwil said.


    ¡°No,¡± Tezca said, snapping the lid closed. ¡°But I will tell you something else since you stopped that vicious animal from attacking a broken-hearted man.¡± He blew a raspberry at Challe. ¡°There¡¯s something else special about this place. It is an easily defensible stretch of land. The Gracestorm served another role, one that I don¡¯t care about, but the Leviathan does.


    ¡°It impeded southward travel and settlement. We¡¯re not so far from the very bottom of the World¡­ It¡¯s hidden there, in the Nadir. The Spiked City of Nethelam, where lies the crypt of the Pantheistic Nascent.¡±


    Gwil had stopped listening because he didn¡¯t know what Tezca was talking about, and because Challe had suddenly stopped struggling against him. He slackened his grip, allowing her to crawl back toward the statue.


    He turned to see her kneel beside the Goddess¡¯s head. The jade statue¡¯s radiance pulsed, slowly and irregularly. The stones in Challe¡¯s arms matched the cadence.


    Tezca was watching her, too. ¡°A corpse,¡± he said. ¡°But no one really dies, do they? And gods have it even worse than mortals. They just become¡­ insensate tools. You know that better than most, Challe¡¯Jade.¡±


    She glanced at him. ¡°Yes.¡±


    Claws crawled over, dragging himself, leaving a trail of blood. ¡°Self,¡± he said, looking up and cringing as if expecting he might be murdered. ¡°Don¡¯t do this. Don¡¯t give in to despair. Don¡¯t negotiate with these demons. You are our source of will. You¡¯re like¡­ our mother. We need you to be strong.¡±


    Tezca clamped his hand over his mouth as his face quivered and his eyes welled. He flapped his other hand, fanning his face.


    ¡°Think of the cuisine we¡¯ll find in our new home,¡± Claws said.


    ¡°Yes. Yes, Claws.¡± The two clasped hands, and shimmering Nirva flowed into Claws. ¡°Mother, father, general superior, all wrapped up in one. You¡¯re right. Forgive me my moment of weakness.¡± He shook his head. ¡°So much loss. First, my kitchen. Then Body. Then Legs.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget about Head,¡± Claws said, chuckling as he stood up. The wounds in his gut steamed as they stitched closed.


    ¡°Ohoho,¡± Tezca laughed, slapping his thigh. ¡°Good one.¡± He turned on Gwil. ¡°That¡¯s right. I am a mother. I must protect my children and my sl- servants. I will crush you. You cannot overcome a mother¡¯s love!¡±


    Tezca stood. He crossed his arms in front of him in the shape of an ¡®x¡¯ while stomping his foot. The pavestones cratered. ¡°Impervious Jello Technique, Variation: Ongoing.¡±


    ¡°Try to fix my head, yeah?¡± Gwil said as he jumped up and sidled back toward Challe. ¡°Now you let loose,¡± he told her.


    He could feel pockets of air shifting, tugging with her movements. Dark clouds streamed from her skin to drape her body. The Goddess shone bright, and the thunder outside pounded like drums.


    Gwil ran straight at Tezca and then shrank and launched himself at Claws. Better to deal with him first¡ªhe¡¯d go down easier. He landed on Claws¡¯s forearm and considered crawling into his ear to kick that bit of rubble the rest of the way into his brain.


    Kra-koom!


    All was blinding green and then black. A flash of terrible, unreal heat. Gwil¡¯s eyes and tongue hardened into rock. He lost all sense of self as his flesh became charcoal.


    One time, he fell asleep after Caris had charged him with taking their turkey off the spit. When she returned, she made him eat what remained of the burnt carcass. One of his baby teeth had broken, and he remembered the taste in his mouth¡ªmetallic blood mixed with dry, gritty dust.


    Presently, that exact same taste was his only tether to awareness. Then Gwil felt a shift in his orientation, and a limb broke off his body.


    A much more pleasant warmth swaddled him, and prismatic white light blossomed to overtake the darkness¡ªthe rising tide of a sea of Nirva.


    The surface stirred, swirling like a cyclone, revealing the light as incredibly dense mist. The voices broke through, and they sang. Through the parting haze, Gwil saw tremendous flowing wings, beating with slow, powerful grace. Despite their size, the sound produced was a gentle, tinkling flutter. Their design was a depthless maze, and their shimmering hues danced through spectrums he¡¯d never seen.


    Gwil¡¯s eyes cracked open, and reality dappled through the strangeness, appearing as shades of gray. He saw his scorched arm laying beside his head, its broken end jagged. At the same time, he felt a new one growing in its place.


    ¡°Gwil? Where are you? Oh, Goddess. Gwil!¡±


    ¡°Nooo! Not my claws! Not my hands! You¡¯re a monster!¡±


    ¡°What in the hells? Did you kill him? You should¡¯ve stayed on the crucifix, Vessel¡­¡±

 Chapter Seventy-Eight – Eight Condemnations

    Sensation returned to his body. Gwil tried to sit up, but something shell-like encased his skin. Instead, pop.


    Gwil burst back to size. The air needled at his skin. He looked down at himself and saw that he was naked¡ªsave for a few charred tatters and one shoe¡ªand his skin was the shiny red color of raw beef.


    Challe screamed behind him, and Claws screamed in front of him, though Gwil suspected Claws¡¯s scream had less to do with Gwil¡¯s flayed-lobster-like appearance and more to do with the fact that his fingers had been blown off.


    Gwil put his hands on his head and turned to Challe. ¡°Aw man, you destroyed my clothes and made me bald, but you didn¡¯t fix my head.¡±


    Challe had fallen to her knees and was choking on her sobs.


    ¡°What the¡ª I¡¯m okay. It¡¯s fine, Challe. Accidents happen.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait,¡± Tezca shouted. ¡°Everyone stop.¡±


    Gwil turned around again and saw Tezca unwrapping the shawl from his robe.


    ¡°I¡¯d never force a man to fight in the nude,¡± Tezca said, handing out the green shawl for Gwil to take. ¡°Nothing would be so uncouth.¡±


    ¡°Thanks!¡± Gwil said. The shawl wasn¡¯t much, but he was able to wrap it around his waist like a towel.


    ¡°Gods, man,¡± Tezca muttered. ¡°I saw you there¡ªyou looked like a gingerbread cookie left in the oven for eighteen hours. How did you heal so fast?¡±


    Gwil shrugged.


    ¡°My claws!¡± Claws howled. He held a twisted mess of melted metal in his mangled hands. At the same time, Challe loosed a shrill scream.


    Tezca sneered and looked at Gwil. ¡°Let¡¯s give them a moment, eh?¡± he said with a sigh.


    Gwil nodded and went over to Challe. She looked at him, wide-eyed, her irises colored their normal brown, without a hint of green. ¡°No, no, no. It wasn¡¯t me, it wasn¡¯t me, it wasn¡¯t me.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Challe, it¡¯s nothing. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s really tough to control lightning. Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±


    Gwil winced, the bright green light burning his new and still-sensitive eyeballs. ¡°Hey, is that statue messing with you? We can destroy it if you want.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± she shrieked as she lunged at him. ¡°Kill my killer. You must be the one.¡±


    Gwil jumped back as Challe scrabbled toward him, trying to wrap up his ankles. She seized and then went still.


    Tezca knelt beside Claws. ¡°The claws aren¡¯t the weapons, Claws. They¡¯re you!¡± He put his hands on the man¡¯s cheeks and wisps of silver-prismatic Nirva drifted out. ¡°Use my Nirva to grow your fingernails. Make your own claws.¡±


    Claws held up his hands. His fingers finished regrowing, but the nails continued to grow and grow, like meat coming out of a grinder. Claws marveled at his hands, turning them over to reveal that each of his nails was as long and as thick as a hunting knife.


    ¡°Ewww!¡± Gwil said. ¡°That¡¯s so gross.¡±


    ¡°Self¡­¡± Claws said reverently. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me about this before? You didn¡¯t think I was ready?¡±


    ¡°No. I never told you because it¡¯s gross. But I need you to fight with me instead of crying like a baby.¡±


    Inspired, Gwil clenched his jaw and scrunched up his face, concentrating. He pushed all his Nirva into his head, into his scalp, into every single one of his hair follicles. His neck tautened as he strained. It was a bit like trying to shit out of the top of his head.


    Poof! He gasped with relief, then ran his fingers through a mop of soft, lush hair. Gwil laughed. It might¡¯ve been even longer than before, and it was much cleaner.


    The erratic thunder stirred into an uplifting rhythm and Challe stood, eyes again aglow. Gwil could hear a faint whine coming from the Goddess statue. He glared at it. Hmm. Probably gonna need to destroy that thing.


    Claws held up his hands, waggling his disgusting fingernails. ¡°Self, I really want to shred these two, but I am a little worried. Perhaps we should forget the statue. Yuma could arrive any minute now.¡±


    ¡°My boy, you have a lot to learn,¡± Tezca said, falling into a stance. ¡°That would be uncouth. We can spare a bit of time for our dignity. That divine corpse is precious to me.¡±


    Beside Gwil, Challe¡¯s breath was heavy and raspy, animalistic. She was getting wild again, and lightning sparked out of her body, so he decided he¡¯d better not shrink.


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    Good thing, because Challe immediately sent a web of lightning crawling over the floor. Bolts formed in the air above, striking down at random, scorching the ground and spitting bits of rubble.


    Claws jumped up to sit on Tezca¡¯s shoulders and the larger man pressed forward, stepping through the lightning like it was just a puddle.


    Challe floated upward, and from the way her body hung, it seemed the wreathe of storm clouds was lifting her.


    Claws cackled as the two-man behemoth bore down on Gwil. He reached out, slashing with his nails while simultaneously growing them even longer, nearly to sword length.


    Gwil skirted back, keeping an eye on Challe. He went to the dead warrior bodies piled along the wall and retrieved two clubs. One he took from the hand of a man who had a chair rammed through his torso.


    Hearing Tezca¡¯s heavy footsteps, Gwil whipped around, swinging. He got a good slash along the width of Tezca¡¯s belly¡ªthe blade got stuck! Gwil tried to wrench it free, but through the rip in the fabric, he saw how two rolls of Tezca¡¯s fat had become like lips, embedding the club within.


    ¡°Wagyu-grade Tenderizer Technique!¡±


    As Gwil dove away from the attack, he realized that Tezca had used his healing to envelop the club with his stomach. Cool!


    Above, Challe, hanging limp, was being wrenched around while lightning erupted from her body. The strikes were erratic; the stench of burnt flesh filled the hall as a bolt incinerated a few corpses.


    Gwil dropped his club and pop. He took the chance to shrink, only to the size of a cat, and moved close to Tezca. Just as he hoped, Tezca could not resist the opportunity to go for a body slam.


    As Claws tumbled off Tezca¡¯s shoulders, Gwil came out of his roll with the club back in hand.


    Pop. Pop. He blinked between the weaving fingernail-swords and smashed Claws on the back of the head with the club.


    Gwil went for a second hit¡ªtoo greedy. Flopping on the ground, Tezca grabbed Gwil by one ankle, pulled him closer, and grabbed the other ankle too.


    Dangling Gwil upside down¡ªand backward, so Gwil faced him¡ªTezca drew himself up onto his knees. ¡°Wishbone Technique!¡±


    The agony came slowly as Tezca ripped him in half bit by bit. His groin tore. His hips cracked before shattering.


    ¡°Challe,¡± Gwil whimpered.


    She appeared with a flash, landing on the ground in between Tezca¡¯s arms. Challe fired two bolts of lightning into both of Tezca¡¯s eyes, causing him to scream in pain. Then she rammed all four of her hands into his agape mouth, burying them up to the wrists. Blood streamed as Tezca gnashed his teeth.


    Green lightning exploded inside Tezca¡¯s mouth, wave after wave, shooting down his throat. The large man¡¯s body convulsed wildly. That made things worse for Gwil because as Tezca¡¯s arms spasmed, he ripped Gwil¡¯s body in multiple directions instead of one.


    But then Tezca lost his grip and Gwil fell. He dragged himself as far as he could and then shrank¡ªtoward his head for a bit of extra distance. Nirva swelled through his bottom half.


    ¡°Fucking hell,¡± he squeaked. Feeling his lower innards leaking out that way was horrid.


    It took about a minute for his Nirva to cure the nasty sluicing sensation, at which point he stood up and, pop, grew back to size. Still tender, he hobbled over to where Challe and Tezca were struggling with each other on the floor. Her hands were still in his mouth, but she wasn¡¯t shooting lightning anymore.


    Claws was balled up in a tangle, because he¡¯d stabbed himself in the thigh with one of his fingernails. Gwil kicked him in the face as he passed and then picked up another bladed club.


    He flipped it around and rammed the narrower handle-end into Tezca¡¯s gaping mouth. Wedging it on the teeth, Gwil jacked the man¡¯s mouth open, and Challe ripped her hands out.


    She rolled away and then went still.


    ¡°Pig in a Blanket Technique!¡± Tezca yelled, throwing his arms around Gwil and dragging him down.


    It was then that Gwil realized one boon of his backward-facing head¡ªthe efficacy with which he could headbutt. He arched his back as Tezca pulled him in and slammed the back of his head into Tezca¡¯s face.


    Pop. He slipped away and was again served by being able to see behind him. Claws had recovered and was crawling toward him.


    Gwil ran at him and then threw himself into a tumble as he embiggened. He rolled up Claws¡¯s fingernails like they were a ramp¡ªgetting his torso sliced along the way¡ªand kneed him in the face.


    The blow put the man down flat on his stomach. Gwil twisted around while focusing Nirva into his hands. He grabbed two fingernails with each hand and bent them backward, folding them along the nailbed until they tore.


    Tezca watched, biting down on his lower lip, nearly swallowing his chin. ¡°Oof. I did not give sufficient consideration to that vulnerability.¡±


    Gwil threw away the two keratin blades and sidled up to Tezca.


    He turned around to face him. ¡°You get a free shot if you fix my head.¡±


    Tezca jiggled his jowls with one hand, considering. ¡°Deal.¡±


    Gwil rolled his shoulders and braced himself.


    ¡°Pineapp¡ªPork Shank Technique! Bahaha!¡±


    Gwil heard his spine break but felt nothing. He dropped, spilling to the floor as if he were made of liquid. He tried to call Tezca a ¡®stupid asshole¡¯, but he couldn¡¯t speak.


    Panic filled him when he tried and failed to shrink. His heart pounded in his ears. He could feel¡ªdully¡ªhis Nirva working in his spine, but not fast enough.


    ¡°Claws, go get the statue. Maybe rip off your other fingernails so you can carry it more effectively,¡± Tezca said. He put his foot on Gwil¡¯s back, driving the heel down, interfering with the healing. ¡°Uncouth of me to violate a deal, but you¡¯re such an idiot for trusting me that I can convince myself it doesn¡¯t count. Now¡­ should I kill you or leave you to deal with Yuma?


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ There is something about you that I enjoy, but also, you¡¯ve committed outrageous crimes against me. The real conundrum is that I don¡¯t even know which of the two options is worse.¡±


    Squelch. Something wet and squishy and purple flopped down beside Gwil¡¯s head.


    The snaketopus.


    Eight snakes hissed, dancing and snapping their jaws. Tezca staggered back and then fell onto his ass. He was panting, as if struggling to breathe. His jaw quivered. ¡°O-Octavia?¡±


    The snaketopus crawled onto Gwil¡¯s back and the eight snakes reared themselves up to their full heights. Gwil grinned, glad that he was facing in this direction.


    ¡°Octavia?¡± Tezca cried.


    The snaketopus responded by aiming its underside and shooting a glob of ink at Tezca¡¯s face. A few of the snakes nuzzled Gwil and licked his cheeks with their flickering tongues.


    ¡°Nope,¡± Tezca said. ¡°Nope, nope, nope. I¡¯m done. I can¡¯t handle another betrayal. Not today. Octavia, how could you do this to me? I¡¯ve fed you the finest cuisine for years.¡±


    Pop. Gwil shrank, causing the snaketopus to plop onto the floor. The rush of Nirva burnt away¡­ most of the numbness. He looked down at his spine and spotted the piece that was out of alignment. Alright, I¡¯m coming around on this again. He banged the vertebra back into place and then grew to size.

 Chapter Seventy-Nine – Gallows

    ¡°Really?¡± Gwil said. ¡°You give up?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Tezca said, wiping away some snot. ¡°I give up.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll apologize to everyone?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll apologize to everyone.¡±


    ¡°Okay, great. Let¡¯s¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wait, Gwil,¡± Challe said. Her breaths quick and stunted, she forced herself onto her feet. ¡°Don¡¯t listen to a word he says. He just tricked you a couple minutes ago.¡±


    Gwil narrowed his eyes at Tezca.


    ¡°Don¡¯t promise him anything,¡± Challe said, coming to stand beside Gwil. ¡°That¡¯s not your decision to make.¡±


    ¡°Ah, right,¡± Gwil said. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    Claws stomped his feet up and down, tears streaming down his face as he tried to grow his fingernails back. ¡°Are you shitting me, Self? Because of fucking Octavia? She¡¯s just a stupid snaketopus. How about I fucking decapitate her eight times?¡±


    Gwil flared Nirva and punched Claws square in the face. He crumpled and one of his arms spasmed as he lay on the ground.


    ¡°He never knows when to shut his fucking mouth,¡± Tezca mumbled.


    Challe whimpered, and Gwil saw she had two of her hands wrapped up in a bloody bundle of her robe.


    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you healing?¡± Gwil asked.


    She shook her head. ¡°Shh. Quiet, brother. Don¡¯t let her hear you,¡± she said, but Gwil could only read her lips as a terrible outburst of thunder shook all of Malikau. They heard a series of crashes above. Clouds of dust coughed from the ceiling and a few stone blocks fell.


    Challe knelt, leveling herself with Tezca. ¡°I want to know why. Why did you do that to her?¡± She squeezed her eyes shut, baring her teeth. ¡°Why did you do this to all of us? What was the reason? Please.¡±


    ¡°Who cares?¡± Gwil said. ¡°We know what¡ª¡±


    One of Challe¡¯s rear arms smacked him across the face.


    Tezca grimaced. ¡°You wanna know why? Fine. I¡¯ll tell you. Not even Claws knows the whole story.¡± He hiccupped. ¡°Only¡­ Only Body knew everything.


    ¡°It was five hundred years ago. I lived in a village called Malikau, some twenty kilometers from where we are now. Decent enough place for fourth-century Lunae. As safe and stable as you could hope for. A wild jungle used to grow in these lands¡ªit protected us.¡±


    Tezca drew a deep breath. His cheeks flapped as he exhaled. ¡°As far back as I can remember, I¡¯ve been hungry. Hungry baby, hungry boy, hungry man. Always hungry. No one understands the ache.


    ¡°I had a dream¡­ To taste every type of food in the World. I wanted to try everything¡­¡±


    ***


    A stone hammer in one hand and a hunting knife in the other, Tezca peeked out from behind a thick tree, his eyes fixed on the slab of raw meat that lay¡ªinnocently¡ªon the ground ten meters from his hiding place.


    The bushes on the far side of the clearing rustled. Tezca tried to keep his hopes in check. Perhaps it was just the wind.


    But then he saw the golden eyes. His prize¡ªslinking and sleek, its spotted coat rippling as it crept forward.


    A jaguar. A precious, sacred jaguar.


    Tezca froze, holding his breath as his mouth went dry. He closed his eyes¡ªhe couldn¡¯t bear to watch.


    A snapping clang and an anguished, desperate growl.


    Tezca sprinted out from behind his hiding spot as the big cat lost its shit, flailing and reow-ing at the pain of its crushed and lacerated leg.


    ¡°Shut up, shut up, shut up,¡± Tezca hissed. Damn thing would wake the whole village.


    He came in swinging with the hammer, landing a clean strike on the side of the jaguar¡¯s head. The beast squealed as Tezca threw his weight on top of it.


    As it tried to twist its way out from under him, Tezca raised his knife, ramming it into the neck and slashing for good measure. After a few heartbeats, the jaguar ceased its writhing.


    Breathing hard, Tezca rolled onto his back. He did not feel a pang of guilt, but there was a tickle of worry. But that was silly. He was over five kilometers outside the village. No one could have heard.


    Tezca waited until his excitement sapped away his fatigue. He stood and slung the jaguar¡¯s corpse over his shoulder.


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    Time to eat a sacred creature. Finally.


    ***


    He chopped off the jaguar¡¯s head, then skinned it, butchered it, disposed of the bones and the viscera. As he sliced the meat, he determined he would eat the hindquarters first, then the ribs, then the shoulders.


    His nose and his subconscious worked in tandem to decide upon what sort of glaze he would prepare, and which seasonings he¡¯d add.


    The time came to put his hard-earned delicacy in the oven. As it cooked, Tezca picked out a merlot, poured himself a glass, and made a salad. One must never neglect their vegetables.


    ***


    The table set, Tezca sat down, dancing in his chair as he tied a napkin around his neck. He felt proud of how he could barely knot the two corners. He considered his prodigal weight to be an offering to Demeter and Dionysus.


    Tezca had picked his own gods out of some old book. They were fun gods, the type that let you eat and drink whatever you wanted and as much as you wanted.


    His neighbors were so damn sanctimonious with all their stupid rules about not eating jaguars. He hated them. They were all mean to him and always yelling at him.


    Fork and knife in hand, Tezca admired the way the glaze glistened. He closed his eyes, breathed deep the distinct scent. One must appreciate all aspects of a meal¡ªdoubly so with a long-awaited dish.


    His tongue flopped out of his mouth. So close. After all these years, so close.


    Tezca stabbed his fork into the hunk of meat, watching the juices dribble out. With the precision of a surgeon, he carved off a bite and patted himself on the back for achieving the perfect level of rarity. Just the tiniest hint of pink¡ªhe¡¯d been theorizing how best to cook jaguar meat ever since he was a child.


    It was forbidden to even harm a jaguar. To eat one was blasphemy of the highest order.


    Salivating, he stuck out his tongue and touched the tip to the bite of meat, shivering as he made contact. This was the culmination of years of careful planning and the release of so much agonizing anticipation.


    Tezca closed his lips around the fork and gently pulled the piece of meat off the prongs. He chewed tentatively, letting the juices flow. A bit gamey, but¡­


    ¡°BALLS OF DIONYSUS! IT¡¯S SO FUCKING DELICIOUS!¡±


    Tezca took a swig of wine. ¡°Oh, oh, oh! I was so wise to choose the merlot!¡±


    He tossed his utensils away, picked up the meat like a sandwich, and devoured it, letting the juices run down his wrists.


    ***


    Tezca finished the last of the ribs, then downed his sixth glass of wine.


    There came a knock at the door. A rude, pounding knock.


    ¡°Open up, Tezca!¡±


    Tezca snapped his greasy fingers. Moza, his bastard neighbor. Their houses shared a wall.


    ¡°This is the third time this month you woke us up with your screaming!¡± Moza yelled through the door. ¡°I have the sheriff with me.¡±


    Laughing to himself, Tezca stood up, knocking his chair over as he did so. He stumbled toward the door¡ªhe¡¯d been at the wine heavy, but the way the tannins mingled with the spices in the glaze¡­ Mmmm!


    Tezca threw the door open. ¡°Good morning, Moza. Sheriff Duz. To what do I owe the pleasure?¡±


    ¡°You woke my baby up twice tonight, you asinine oaf,¡± Moza hissed.


    Tezca looked at Sheriff Duz and shrugged.


    Hand to his forehead, Duz sighed. ¡°Tezca, could you please just¡­ try to keep it down? Do us both a favor. Neither of us wants Moza banging on our door at the break of dawn¡­ Gods man, you¡¯re covered in blood. You on a venison kick again?¡±


    Tezca¡¯s face burned hot. And his heart, oh, it beat with the thunder of a thousand thousand storms.


    He¡¯d forgotten. He¡¯d forgotten that he was in the middle of committing a heinous crime. His satiation, his drunkenness, his euphoria¡­ They combined to make him careless.


    Tezca threw his arms out wide and leaned on the door frame. But Moza, that nosy piece of shit, ducked under his arm.


    Moza gagged as he tried to speak. He went down on hands and knees, puking.


    ¡°Er, it¡¯s not what it looks like.¡±


    ¡°What the¡ª¡± Duz said, shoving his way inside. ¡°No. Tezca, no. Gods. You horrible, disgusting monster!¡±


    The severed jaguar head was on the table, set upon a silver platter opposite Tezca¡¯s seat.


    Duz slammed Tezca against the wall and, in a flash, had the blade of his knife against Tezca¡¯s neck.


    Tezca had grabbed hold of Duz¡¯s wrist, but Moza, that asshole, kicked out Tezca¡¯s knee, dropping him.


    ***


    Tezca sneered as he looked down upon the jeering crowd from his elevated position atop the gallows.


    ¡°I regret nothing!¡± he shouted. ¡°You¡¯re all idiots for not eating jaguar. You don¡¯t know what you''re missing.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Tezca,¡± Duz said. ¡°You¡¯re about to die. Show some dignity for once.¡±


    The noose scratched at Tezca¡¯s neck. The trapdoor creaked beneath his feet.


    ¡°C¡¯mon Duz,¡± Tezca said. ¡°These are my last words. They were all hoping this would happen someday. They probably don¡¯t even care about the jaguar when my death is their reward.¡±


    The hateful crowd pelted him with rotten food as they screamed over each other.


    Duz shook his head and turned away.


    ¡°I know you all hate me,¡± Tezca said. ¡°You call me a thief and a glutton and a heathen. Just because I steal the occasional pig or cow or chicken from your farms. Zug, I know you claim you were forced to sell your farm because of how many pigs I stole from you, but the math just doesn¡¯t add up, and I know you have a gambling addiction.¡±


    Zug had to be pulled down as he tried to climb onto the gallows.


    ¡°Anyway, over the years, I¡¯ve invited each and every one of you to my home for dinner. I¡¯m an amazing cook. But you all reject me and treat me like a pariah.


    ¡°But you know what? I¡¯ve never murdered a person. And that¡¯s what you¡¯re doing right now. You always come out to celebrate whenever there¡¯s an execution. You¡¯re all murderers, and that¡¯s a lot less holy than eating some stupid cat.¡±


    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough,¡± Duz said. ¡°Tezca, you stand accused of cannibalizing a jaguar, our most sacred symbol. It¡¯s¡­ just about the worst crime I can imagine, except engaging in bestiality with one, I suppose. It¡¯s tough to say which¡­ well, never mind, I¡¯m getting off track. Anyway, you¡¯ve been gloating about your guilt so¡ª¡±


    ¡°I wish to repent,¡± Tezca said.


    Duz groaned but waved Tezca on.


    ¡°My only regret is that I did not get to finish every last scrap of that jaguar¡¯s delectable meat. Oh! And a second regret, that none of you will ever experience that delicious flavor.¡± He grinned at them. ¡°I hope these words will nag at you for the rest of your lives. Whenever you try to worship the jaguar, I hope my demonic voice plagues you, forcing you to think of how it might taste. On your deathbeds, you will wonder how sweet the meat might be.¡±


    The trapdoor dropped.


    The brief fall was a final rush of freedom. Tezca felt like he was flying. The rope snapped. Terrible pain ripped through his whole body.


    Rotten luck, that he didn¡¯t die immediately.


    Tezca¡¯s body spasmed, the rope biting through his neck. He clawed at it with his fingers, spinning as the villagers continued throwing things at him. Drool and foam spewed from his mouth. He went deaf, except for the rushing blood in his ears. His lungs were starving, his head felt at once swollen and light as air.


    Duz appeared in front of him. ¡°I didn¡¯t hate you, Tezca.¡±


    Then he slit Tezca¡¯s throat.

 Chapter Eighty – Jade

    Tezca blinked open bleary eyes. He was¡­ laying on the floor? His face was level with planks of weathered wood. And past that, the town square. People walking around, mingling. He heard laughter.


    It came rushing back and Tezca flailed with panic. The crossbeam broke in half, and he fell into the pit beneath the structure¡¯s deck, landing in the muck, knees splashing in a pool of his own blood. Gasping, Tezca¡¯s fingers went to his neck where they pressed against wet, bumpy granulation tissue.


    The people in the square were shouting; footsteps were closing in. Tezca crawled out from beneath the gallows and ran, ran like he¡¯d never run before.


    He plunged into the embrace of the jungle, following the overgrown path that led to the place where he¡¯d killed the jaguar.


    The voices followed him into the woods, his neighbors chasing him down.


    ¡°Leave me alone!¡± Tezca screamed.


    But gods, how was he moving so fast? His legs were so powerful. He felt incredible.


    Tezca had heard the stories of unnatural resurrections that birthed wielders of great power. Sorcerers. But he¡¯d never thought¡­


    ***


    Tezca stood over the corpse of his last pursuer. Well, the last that remained¡ªmost of them had fled once they learned what they were dealing with.


    He hadn¡¯t just killed them¡ªhe¡¯d ripped them apart as easily as crab meat, crushed their heads like tomatoes. And it wasn¡¯t just that Tezca was strong. No. He¡¯d gotten his head split open by a hatchet. Zug ran him through with a pitchfork. The wounds healed.


    His was the strength of a god.


    Hands on his hips, Tezca looked at the myriad knotted paths that split through the dark thick of the jungle. He¡¯d never ventured so deep. The midday sun blazed despite the canopy overhead. The suffocating humidity was even worse.


    His strange new powers did nothing for the sweat¡ªit poured down his face like rain rushing out of a gutter. And his throat needled with thirst, as if he¡¯d swallowed a mouthful of broken glass.


    Dazed, Tezca wandered deeper. Though his body proved tireless, he suffered. And yet there was a¡­ disconnect between his sense of self and his discomforts. His thirst, his pains¡ªthey felt like memories of such things. Exhaustion smothered his mind though, and that was present and pervasive.


    He collapsed¡ªon purpose¡ªflattening a thicket of vegetation. What a bizarre day. It was only natural that surviving death would take a toll, but he did not care for the erratic cast of his thoughts. Sleep would do him good. It would¡¯ve been nice to find a bite to eat, but he was too comfortable to get back up.


    It started raining.


    Tezca rolled over onto his back and opened his mouth wide. The thick droplets fell heavy, cool and refreshing despite the acidic taint of the rainwater.


    For today, this was good enough.


    ***


    Two weeks passed.


    Tezca came to love the jungle. Free from his neighbors and their bullshittery, he¡¯d eaten two more jaguars. He only wished he had access to his spice cabinet.


    Despite the blandness of the meat, he counted himself lucky. If not for his strange new powers, Tezca would¡¯ve died on the second day, for he knew nothing of survival. He ate raw meat and poisonous creatures and drank stagnant water without consequences. One of the jaguars had torn his foot off and ten minutes later, it had grown back! He believed he might be unkillable.


    Still, Tezca was not sated. Ideas stirred within his large brain, and he dreamed of revenge. The villagers would regret the way they treated him. But not yet.


    Tezca felt in his bones that he was in the midst of a pivotal quest, a journey of personal discovery and self-improvement.


    Every day, he forged ahead, although he may have been going in circles. The heat was his worst enemy. He covered his exposed skin with mud and monstera leaves, but still sweat like a goddamned fountain.


    His invulnerability made him reckless and animalistic. Tezca plowed through the jungle, heedless, trampling small trees and breaking through the branches of larger ones. His wounds healed before he even noticed them.


    He¡¯d been bitten by countless snakes and scorpions. And he very much enjoyed eating the little poison dart frogs. They tasted like tart candy, and every color had a unique flavor.


    Through a gap in the foliage, he spotted a clearing¡ªa rarity this deep in the jungle. Tezca believed it must have been centuries since a human had stepped foot in these parts. When sentimentality struck, he wondered if this land was Eden reclaimed.


    Tezca entered the grove, and the sight made him question his sanity. A pool of crystal-clear water, glistening in the sunlight.


    He salivated. He had not had a proper drink of water since he left Malikau. There was fruit in the jungle, and plump bugs, and he often drank from the slimy puddles and foul ponds. But the blackened rivers that ran through the jungle infected every other source of water with their filth.


    More than anything, except his kitchen, Tezca missed good drinking water. He yearned for it every night as he tried to sleep. Nothing else cleaned the palate so well. Especially when one had not had the chance to grab some toothpaste.


    Grinning from ear to ear, Tezca approached the pool. He knelt in the lush grass that rimmed its edges. The blades were as soft as fur and somehow trim, while the ground beneath was firm despite the proximity to the water. It felt strange to take a step without sinking into a layer of muck. The color of the grass was so pure and vibrant that it seemed unreal. The jungle¡¯s usual shades of green were dark and oppressive.


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    Shaking with awe, Tezca cupped his hands and filled them. How is it so cold? The sun beamed down, yet this water felt like it¡¯d come out of a refrigerator.


    He brought his hands to his lips and drank. It was even more rejuvenating than actual resurrection.


    Tezca dunked his face into the water, drinking like a dog. He stood, intending to strip off his ragged clothes and dive in¡ªa bath would be glorious. But then he saw how all the trees in this grove bore bright, robust fruits. Mangos, bananas, papayas¡ªtheir skin shone, unmarred by the jungle¡¯s putrid taint.


    He smiled. Paradise. He need never leave this place. He need not return to the village.


    ¡°Help me. Please.¡±


    The voice was grating and raspy, and commanding. Tezca spun, searching for the source. Perhaps it was the way the words filled his head, or the goosebumps pimpling up his arms¡ªhe knew the speaker was not human.


    There. It lay on the far side of the pool, a huge, birdlike creature. It was about as wide as him and would be much taller if it stood up. How had he not seen it before?


    Its plumage was a beautiful shade of shimmering green that well-matched the lovely grass. But the feathers were ruffled and tufty and patched with gunky black stains. The creature covered its head with one wing. The other stuck up at an odd angle, broken.


    Tezca laughed. ¡°Are you a talking bird?¡±


    ¡°No. Well¡­ yes,¡± the voice answered.


    Tezca hurried over. ¡°Maybe I ate a hallucinogenic frog,¡± he muttered to himself as he rounded the pool. A prickly chill came upon the air.


    His mouth fell open as he stood over the beast. Human arms protruded from its chest, the skin withered and tight over the bones. And on the broken wing, eyes¡ªno, a whole face¡ªregarding him through a crook. Though the eyes were empty pits and the face merely a bulge formed of shaped feathers, it captivated him.


    Tezca shook his head. Just a giant eagle. He nudged the creature with his foot. It flinched, crying in agony. He heard the sound twice. To his ears, an animal shriek with a lingering echo. In his head, a human whimper.


    The injured wing fluttered and something like red-black tar oozed from the slit of a mouth.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid,¡± Tezca said. ¡°What are you?¡±


    To his surprise, the creature relaxed at his words, uncovering its head. It was almost like an eagle, but with a couple of uncanny differences. The face was flatter and elongated; the eyes hooded and almond-shaped. The beak¡ªthe only part except the legs that was not bright green¡ªwas alabaster white, and it hung open, quivering with the beast¡¯s ragged breaths.


    The great eagle eased out of its huddled posture, laying back, exposing itself and revealing three deep gashes on its breast. More of the merlot-colored blood streamed from those wounds. Within the sappy substance, a smoky essence moved, twitchy and erratic, like a pile of feasting ants.


    Tezca wrinkled his nose at the stench, like sulfur and bleach. Where that foul liquid had dripped, the grass had wilted.


    He backed away as the beast reached toward him with one of its human arms.


    ¡°I am a goddess,¡± it rasped. The mouth did not move when it spoke¡ªonly a whining wheeze escaped from the agape beak. Green-in-green eyes, like emeralds, stared at Tezca, unblinking and depthless.


    Tezca scratched his chin. ¡°A goddess? A goddess of what?¡±


    ¡°Storms,¡± the beast growled. ¡°My name is Jade, Daughter of Gaia, who once loved everything. I am dying, she is dying, they are dying, we are dying. I am begging-begging-begging for your mercy.¡±


    Tezca plopped down beside her, trying to ignore the fact that she dwarfed him. ¡°I dunno much about mercy. You look tough, though. What could¡¯ve hurt you?¡±


    ¡°A dragon-rider with a knife lodged in his eye. A servant of Ezathiza. I don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ohoho, holy shit! A dragon?¡±


    ¡°He has done something to my blood-my blood-my blood. Corruption fills me. I am dying, Tezca.¡±


    Tezca nodded and tilted his head to better examine the gushing wounds. ¡°I can see that.¡± He jumped to his feet. ¡°How do you know my name?¡± he barked as he stomped on the beast¡¯s ankle.


    Jade shrieked and spasmed, the broken wing flapping against Tezca¡¯s back. She swatted with one of her human hands. Tezca caught it by the fingers and bent them backward. He grinned as he did so. She is weak.


    In his head, the goddess laughed. ¡°I speak in your mind. You look upon my blood. How could I not see your name?¡±


    Her laughter soothed him. Tezca released her hand and took his foot away from her leg. ¡°You want my help? I think you need a doctor. I¡¯m more of a butcher.¡±


    ¡°I see you¡¯ve been touched by the silver-winged Interloper. The starborn Granter of Wishes. I always thought it strange how she resembles a Terran butterfly. It¡­ settles me. My mother made the butterfly so beautiful and gentle. There must be¡­¡±


    ¡°What are you talkin¡¯ about?¡± Tezca said. ¡°Just tell me fast¡ªwhat¡¯d you need me to do, and why should I do it?¡±


    He had the sensation of a splitting headache, but it passed after a couple of heartbeats.


    Jade laughed again, this time in a cruel manner that set Tezca¡¯s teeth on edge. ¡°I do not know if the damage I¡¯ve sustained is survivable. Ezathiza is an anathema. Cancerous.¡±


    ¡°Enough with the mumbo-jumbo,¡± Tezca said.


    The goddess spoke softly in his head, like a mother singing a lullaby. ¡°Do not let yourself be consumed by your worst impulses, child. Please. My temple is nearby. My worshippers might be able to save me. You must go there. I can guide you. Go to them and bring them here. I need clean blood. You will be rewarded. I need clean blood.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the reward?¡±


    ¡°What do you desire, Tezca? I offer riches and lifelong sanctuary. My devotees will treat you as a hero.¡±


    ¡°No thanks. I don¡¯t want to join your cult.¡±


    Jade started to say something in his head, but faltered as her physical body went into a fit of writhing and gagging. She tried again. ¡°I¡¯m not so petty as to demand your faith. You will live not among them but above them, in luxury. An honored guest. I don¡¯t want to die. I don¡¯t want to die.¡±


    Tezca pressed his fingertips together and held them to his lips. ¡°But what if you do die? I¡¯d be shit out of luck, wouldn¡¯t I?¡±


    Jade¡¯s presence in his mind seemed to freeze, sputtering. A grating tone sounded, a perpetual metal-on-metal screech. Her voice took on a choral, guttural tone. ¡°Death, death, death. The arrival of the Interlopers. You call it Apocalypse. We call it Genesis. Myth and memory made manifest; the past warped by the ocean of blood in the soil. We were born to be slaughtered. They conduct pantheocide as if we¡¯re cultivated crops. I was a senseless force, and I suffer ever-developing lucidity. I do not understand? I am dying. I am dying. I am dying.¡±


    ¡°Fucking hell. Shut up, lady,¡± Tezca said. He feigned a kick, causing the goddess to flinch and cover herself with her broken wing. ¡°Our roles are reversed from the usual, aren¡¯t they? Here¡¯s the problem. I want something priceless.¡±


    The bird-mouth shrieked as Jade said, ¡°The temple is not far. Please! I don¡¯t want to die.¡±


    ¡°The problem is,¡± Tezca shouted to drown out her voice, ¡°the thing I want doesn¡¯t jibe with your survival.¡±


    He felt her fear blossom in his head. She was like a deer struck by an arrow, lying on the ground, watching the hunter approach. Tezca salivated.


    ¡°Riches and luxury sound nice, but I¡¯m a man who is committed to his dream. I will try every food in the World. Except human meat¡ªI would never resort to cannibalism.¡±


    ¡°I am dying. I am dying.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Tezca said, looming over her. A goddess brought as low as a fawn. ¡°I¡¯ve only eaten eagle once. They¡¯re devilish to catch. And it was small. And it wasn¡¯t green, or a goddess. I¡¯m sorry. I appreciate your offer. Maybe you¡¯re not such a bad god, I dunno. But this is an opportunity that I can¡¯t afford to pass on. I am going to eat you, Jade.¡±


    Tezca tensed as her fear evaporated.


    Storm clouds gathered above, obscuring the sun and casting the grove in darkness.


    ¡°Butterflies are mindless in their whimsy,¡± Jade said.

 Chapter Eighty-One – Frigid Depths

    Tezca threw himself on top of the goddess as she tried to stand. One of her talons raked the length of his calf. He snared her two human arms¡ªlocking his fingers around both thin wrists¡ªas he dug his way under her wing. With his free hand, Tezca ripped out fistfuls of feathers and burrowed his way in. He pinned the human limbs beneath his mass and barred his arm across Jade¡¯s neck.


    The gathering storm clouds opened in a downpour. An ear-splitting crack of thunder rang out, but the rumblings that followed were feeble and choppy. Face to face with the goddess, Tezca grinned wide. Even as Jade gnashed her beak, fear filled her unnatural eyes.


    As they struggled, Tezca¡¯s magical strength filled his body like fire. Jade smothered him with her wing and something brutally frigid seeped into Tezca¡¯s lower back, piercing the glorious warmth of his power and shooting numbness into his spine. It was like an icicle had been driven into his flesh.


    Tezca growled through chattering teeth. His limbs stiff and seizing, he forced himself up on one knee to get an angle and buried his fist in one of the wounds on the beast¡¯s chest. He twisted his fist, digging deep into the black-red pit. The shrillness of Jade¡¯s screech caused blood to dribble out of Tezca¡¯s ears.


    A choir of voices, screaming in his head.


    Adrenaline¡ªand satisfaction at the way the goddess writhed¡ªenabled Tezca to keep dredging the wound, but¡­ He howled as that terrible, gelid pain devoured his fist and exploded throughout his body.


    An infestation of infinitesimal spikes, scouring his innards as if to his very soul. The sheer, merciless coldness scraped against his bones, turned his blood into something like freezing slush. Red-black splotches marred his vision, and a discordant whine accompanied the mad choir. They chanted: Rejoice! Rejoice!


    This was an unfathomable agony. Tezca screamed so deeply that blood dribbled down his throat as it tore. His arm lashed like a whip, ripping out of its socket.


    That hand no longer belonged to him. It had been stolen by the wicked coldness.


    Fingers wriggling to the point they blurred, the hand shot toward Tezca¡¯s face, lunging like a rabid animal. He caught the demented limb by its wrist. From the fingertips to the elbow, the flesh was blackened and liquified.


    As he held its crazed desperation at bay¡ªthe fingers clutching and jabbing, seeking to rip his face apart¡ªTezca felt all his inner fire focus in his shoulder, staving off the flood.


    He barely noticed how Jade had broken free of his hold and was gouging his face with her beak. She¡¯d torn his ear off and minced an eyeball. That didn¡¯t matter. Nothing mattered except the frigid knives flaying him to the core.


    Tezca threw himself backward to get away, landing with a splash. The torrential rainfall was already flooding the grove. As it splattered against his face, washing away his mask of blood, he heard Jade¡¯s earlier refrain in his head¡ªI am dying. I am dying.


    His arm¡¯s foreign fury weakened, and the writhing sludge deteriorated. The limb began to melt, bone and all, dripping in slug-like globs.


    Jade¡¯s voice cut above the wailing cacophony in Tezca¡¯s head¡ªtheir screams were making him dizzy. ¡°You took one sip from the fouled ocean. Look what it did to you. Know that the Yalda¡¯blood fills my veins and consider the depth of your sin.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ sorry,¡± Tezca croaked. That she was holding this back¡­ He didn¡¯t know. Alas, it was too late.


    All the corrupted flesh had fallen away. A gnarled stump of raw pink tissue grew out of Tezca¡¯s elbow joint. The fire flowed throughout his body again, burning away the cold; swelling in the places where he was injured.


    Spreading her wings, the goddess drew herself upright. She was a monolith. Her talons tore up the grass as she trampled toward him. Green bolts of lightning slashed through the sky.


    Tezca tried to crawl away, but his limbs were weak and jiggly. His vision swirled and bits of his splattered eye were falling out as the new one grew.


    This sudden nausea was more crippling than anything else, though. Tezca was not accustomed to nausea¡ªhe had an iron stomach. But his innards gurgled and growled. He wondered if that merlot blood had poisoned him, and he thought it might have been wiser to accept Jade¡¯s offer.


    The sound of beating wings came, and Jade jumped onto Tezca¡¯s back. He collapsed under her weight. Her talons sliced into his flank as she flipped him over onto his back.


    She pounced on him, ripping out chunks of his belly with her feet as he raised his arms against the downward slams of her beak.


    Something thrashed within his guts¡ªthis was no stomachache. Not even when he¡¯d eaten an entire cow in one sitting had he felt something like this.


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    Gods, this is a poetic way for me to die, though. Attempting to kill and eat a goddess. Beautiful, Tezca thought as Jade continued carving him up.


    He reached out, feeling with his hand, and his fingers closed around a stick. Tezca rammed it into Jade¡¯s wound, dropping it as soon as she jumped back. He did not want to risk contact with the poison again.


    Jade had fallen to the ground, screeching as her body twisted, her spine bending in impossible ways.


    Tezca might have taken the chance to attack, but¡­ something was very wrong inside his stomach. He shuddered as he clutched his belly with his hands. The way this pain seemed to move, and even physically jab at his guts¡­


    The realization made him clench his teeth in terror. Whatever was in his stomach, it was alive. The poison blood must have put a parasite in him. He¡¯d be devoured from within. That was poetic too, in a way, Tezca supposed, but so ghastly.


    ¡°Wuagghahh!¡± It was coming out. Now. Fingerlike things pressed on Tezca¡¯s esophagus and his gag reflex spasmed. Jade had recovered and was bearing down on him. He spewed a stream of fruit chunks and stomach acid into the face of the goddess.


    ¡°No, no, stop, no,¡± Tezca wailed, his voice garbled as something punched through his neck from the inside. His jaw snapped as the parasite crawled up his throat.


    Mercifully, Jade relented when Tezca curled up in the fetal position. His eyes bulged as he crossed them to look down. Something small and flesh-like crested from his mouth. The parasite used his lips as handholds and pulled itself fully out. The abomination crawled onto the grass before collapsing.


    Tezca wept. At first, he thought he¡¯d had a baby. Hell, is this what it¡¯s like to give birth? But no, the proportions were way off. The torso was not a fat bulb with stumpy limbs and a too-big head attached. It was not a baby.


    It looked like an adult human but was only as tall as an ear of corn. The parasite rolled over and sat up. It was¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s a miniature version of me!¡± Tezca squealed with delight. It looked exactly like him, except skinny and small. ¡°Look, Jade, look! A beautiful miracle!¡±


    The goddess tilted her head and raised her clawed foot.


    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± The wind howled as Tezca dove forward.


    Too late. Jade¡¯s scaly, four-toed foot with its razor-sharp hooks closed around the tiny body. As Tezca pounded his fists against her foot, Jade squeezed. There was a pop and a crunch and a tiny squirt of blood, like the juice from a squished olive.


    ¡°Arghhh! You horrible, disgusting monster!¡± Tezca threw himself at Jade¡¯s broken wing. He wrapped his arms and legs around it and then fell, using his weight to drag her down with him. At her shriek, something burst inside Tezca¡¯s ear. A bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, setting it ablaze.


    The strange voices filled his head¡ªnot hers, the other ones¡ªas fiery strength surged through Tezca¡¯s body. He¡¯d brought Jade down on top of him, and she reached for his neck with her human arms.


    Snarling, Tezca caught both her hands, locking his fingers with hers. He crossed Jade¡¯s arms and slammed one wrist down on top of the other, again and again, until the bones in both were splintered.


    She cried out and Tezca lunged forward, shoving his hand into her agape mouth and grabbing hold of her tongue. Her beak sliced into his wrist, but he held tight, yanking the wormy tongue. Blood leaked out¡ª


    Tezca ripped his hand away¡ªleaving a couple fingers behind¡ªat a pinprick sensation of the poisonous cold.


    Instead, he threw an arm around Jade¡¯s neck and rolled himself forward in a somersault, flipping the goddess with him and wrenching her neck until it snapped.


    Jade seized on top of him as Tezca added his other arm to the chokehold, feeling her thin bird bones crunching and crumbling as he squeezed tighter. Though her neck had gone as limp as a noodle, she still struggled.


    The rain had diminished to a misting spritz. Green lightning crackled overhead, but it hung languid and impotent, failing to come to fruition.


    ¡°You killed my brother,¡± Tezca growled through clenched teeth.


    Jade went still. ¡°You all deserve everything,¡± she said in Tezca¡¯s head.


    The storm unraveled and golden sunlight blotted through. Tezca shoved her heavy corpse off himself and lay there gasping, his fists clinging to the grass as his head spun.


    ¡°Are you¡­¡± He drew strength into his voice and roared, ¡°Are you still in my head?¡±


    Jade did not answer. Tezca knew she was dead from the relief he felt at her absence. There¡¯d been something grating about her presence. Discomfiting, like the fabric of the World was warped around her.


    But those other voices¡­ They¡¯d quieted, but he could still hear them whispering. Countless, each distinct, yet they all reflected each other. By the way they harmonized, Tezca knew they were bound together; they all shared in the same agonizing fate.


    Tezca did not care for that. The last thing he wanted was a bunch of people bitching and moaning in his head. He had a lot of important shit to think about.


    He tried to ignore their murmuring and recover himself. His heart and mind both raced. He fiddled with his misshapen, half-grown ear. Did I just give birth and then see my child murdered? He kept his eyes averted from the miniature corpse.


    Something wriggled beneath him. Tezca rolled over, going up on his knees. Death swept across the once-lush grass, turning it brown and crinkly. Maggots and other vermin emerged from the mud beneath.


    ¡°No!¡± Tezca shouted, seeing that the taint was filling the crystal-clear pool. Silt swirled within and the brackish stench assaulted his nostrils.


    Desperate, Tezca scrambled to the pool¡¯s edge and scooped handfuls into his mouth. It was already warm and slimy. Algae speckled across the surface. He gave up when his hand came away with a leech suckling on his palm.


    ¡°Spiteful bitch!¡± he spat at the goddess¡¯s corpse. ¡°I¡¯m glad I killed you. If you were worth a damn, you¡¯d leave the water behind for the good of the World.¡±


    He stood and hobbled over to her. ¡°Now, how best to eat you? I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ve ever butchered something so big.¡± He hissed through his teeth. ¡°And how will I cleanse that nasty blood¡ª¡±


    A crystalline path glassed the ground. Tezca jumped out of the way as it reached the corpse. A web of translucent flakes oozed out of Jade¡¯s flesh, crinkling as it spread across her body, smothering the feathers like paste. As it grew thicker, it appeared crystalline, growing like frost covering over glass.


    ¡°Bahaha! Nice try, Jade.¡± He bowed low over the corpse. ¡°You¡¯re crazy if you think that¡¯ll stop me. A sledgehammer will take care of this shell, no problem. You killed my child when he was fresh out of the womb. I swear I will feast upon your corpse if it¡¯s the last thing I do.¡±


    A shrill, poorly sung song came to his ears. A branch cracked in the woods. Tezca whipped around.