I felt almost gleeful with magic ... and that was before I started tossing the bowl from hand to hand--then blipping them into my domain in mid-air. Just snatching it from the air and disappearing it.

After a while I started lofting the bowl across the cell, and bamfing it into my domain an instant before it hit the wall. Well, unless I waited too long, it which case it escaped my range and clattered to the floor. Then I started throwing it harder and snatching it into my domain faster. Finally, I ricocheted it against the wall and ceiling, making its bouncing path unpredictable, to increase the difficulty of my blipping.

Except that didn’t really make it harder. As long as I saw the bowl clearly, I could bamf it into my domain without any problem.

“The hell are you doing in there?” a guard asked from outside, banging on the boards.

“Digging a tunnel,” I said.

He didn’t respond, and I kept experimenting until what felt like dinnertime, then I ate some stew again, keeping my cardboard-tasting mushrooms and cork-tasting bark for later, because they’d probably keep longer. My domain seemed to preserve its contents, but only a little. And not enough to keep tadpoles alive.

After dinner, I spent a while staring at a wall. Trying to relax and trying to analyze my situation at the same time--which meant I accomplished neither. So I did this Yoga routine that one of my ex-girlfriends taught me, called ‘the Sun Salutation.’ Which she always did first thing in the morning, and not in a filthy cell in a ruined city in a fantasy world, but after the sixth repetition I felt a little more grounded.

You can take the boy out of California, but you can’t take the California out of the boy.

After my last ‘Om,’ I reached between the bars of my cell and touched the boards beyond. Rough-hewn wood, each an inch thick. I couldn’t see exactly how the boards were clamped in place, but they weren’t airtight.

So I turned my forearm to smoke and wafted my gaseous hand though a crack between the boards. I couldn’t stretch far in smoke-form, not while most of my body remained flesh, but I managed to wriggle the tendrils of my smoky fingers through a narrow crack.

And wherever my smoke went, so did my senses.

The adaptability of my powers kept surprising me. Seeing the world while in my smoky form made sense, but turning one arm into a sort of vaporous periscope? That felt like cheating. As had tracking an enemy’s location via INTUIT. Not that I was complaining. No, I was just scanning the room outside my sell with the vision of my smoke-fingers.

I’d already knew it was a big square chamber with a stone platform in the center and two smaller tables in the corners. Now that I looked closer, I noticed seven other cells. For a moment hope, blazed in my heart: Erdinand! Maybe he was right here with me!

Except he wasn’t. The other cells were all empty.

Two crossbowers lounged at each of the corner tables, which had clearly been placed there to give them effective angles on my cell. Four other guards sat at the central platform/workspace, playing cards of some sort. One was ollie, the rest were infenti, with an average level of five.

I didn’t watch long, afraid of my mana running out. I just took note of the two exits before I resolidified. I settled in for a long wait, just passing time until the pearl bead to help me completely recover from my wounds.

Except I lost patience a few hours later.

Health: 47/55

Close enough. Time to find Erdinand and get the hell out of here.

So I stood and turned to smoke.

When I seeped through the boards, at least half of the guards look tragically alert. Gritting my nonexistent teeth, I wafted fast through the nearest exist and barely into the nearest corridor, just out of sight. I returned to my body with five mana left. Enough for maybe two seconds of smokiness, though at least my mana ticked up relatively quickly.

On my bare feet, I padded along the hallway, stopping at the doorways that opened on either sides to listen before I walked past. I didn’t hear anything. As I continued, I realized that the Sixers’ had established their prison inside the wing of a much, much larger ruined prison. So there were dozens of empty, abandoned-looking cells, corridors, barrack rooms, meeting halls.

And while my plan was to return to my cell if I didn’t find Erdinand, and pretend I’d never left, I soon got completely lost.

I grumbled to Princess.

she drowsily asked.

she said.

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

I said.

she sulked, and went back to sleep.

I said,

I must’ve prowled the lower level of the prison for an hour, darting into rooms and around corners whenever my webtouched senses warned me of guards approaching. Which came in extremely handy. Spider-Man would’ve made a great cat burglar.

My heightened senses eventually made me a little overconfident, though: I crept too close to what sounded like a crowd in front of me, and I sensed people approaching from both sides.

So in a panic, I slipped through a door ... and into the motherlode. A store room. A long rectangular space with shelves on either side, absolutely packed with useful stuff. After poking around for a while, I bamfed a lantern and lamp oil and a few spark-sticks into my domain. I’d first seen spark-sticks in the servants’ wagon; they were like metal tongs that sparked when you squeezed the tips together, to help light fires. I domained a crowbar-looking tool, a coil of rope, and a sack of feathers--well, a pillow, actually. Or maybe it was an unfinished mattress? I didn’t know, but being able to pop a thousand feathers from my domain seemed potentially useful.

I snagged two sheets and two blankets--and a spare uniform, in addition to the one that I immediately changed into consisting of a quilted shirt, a severe jacket with wooden buttons, and a sash. I chose the gray-and-red sash, because that was what my guards were wearing. The baggy trousers fit nicely over the surprisingly-comfortable boots, once I found the right size. Then I grabbed another pair of the same-size boots, too, because why not?

I might’ve looked too human to be a prison guard, but at first glance I’d probably fit in. I decided to take a risk. I couldn’t simply wander aimlessly forever, so I left the store room and crept closer to the sound of people speaking.

I found a mess hall at the end of the corridor. Dozens of guards and staffers sat at long tables, eating and drinking and arguing. Staying back, I watched for a time, considering my options and hoping to overhear something useful. I couldn’t think of a way to find Erdinand except by dragging a guard into an empty room and forcing them to talk.

So that was what I’d do.

The wide stairwell behind the tables looked well-travelled, but only a rare few guards used the narrow stairs on the opposite wall. I considered receding back into this labyrinth building and hoping to stumble upon someone alone, but there was no way I wouldn’t get lost again. So I took a breath, popped Oksar’s little book into my hands--from inside the pack inside my domain, which was a cool new trick--then strolled into the mess hall.

My heart pounded.

Every step sounded like a gunshot.

I forced myself to move slowly, to just amble openly across the room like I had nothing to hide. I kept my head down, because I was consulting a book or a ... or a map or chart as far as anyone knew, something guard-like and military. I’d grabbed the book because I’d wanted a reason to avert my human face, and to make myself look like I belonged. Plus, what kind of escaped prisoner reads as he breaks for the exit? Nothing could look innocent-er.

Which was maybe a stupid idea. Fortunately, it was also unnecessary, because nobody paid any attention to me. I reached the narrow staircase and didn’t start running. I kept strolling like I was made entirely of cool. I climbed up a few steps then bamfed the book back into my domain and didn’t faint in relief.

The murmur of conversation continued behind me as I checked the hallway on the second floor, looking for a good place to ambush a guard. Instead, I found a window the size of a dinner plate. Dim sunlight shone from the other side. It looked like dusk outside. I’d lost track of time and ... and then I realized that the window was only a few feet above ground level. Apparently my cell, and the mess hall, and all the hallways I’d explored, were subterranean.

Huh. I’d known that, but seeing it surprised me anyway.

I heard someone approaching from below, so I quickly climbed two flights then poked my head into an arched entry, listening for signs of activity. I didn’t hear anything, so I crept through and found myself in a wide, tiled hallway. The footsteps behind me faded, and I slipped halfway along the hallway before my webtouched awareness tingled.

A moment later, I heard the scuffing of boots approaching. I peeked through the crack of a not-quite-closed doorway and saw an empty office. I slipped inside ... and discovered that the office wasn’t entirely empty.

An orange-speckled infenti reading a ledger at a desk looked up at me. “Can I help you?”

INTUIT: Infenti, Level 3

“Shhh!” I raised my empty hands pleadingly. “My wife is out there.”

He tilted his head. “Huh?”

“Check this out,” I said, and put my left hand on his desk, palm upward

When he glanced downward, I blipped my final unripe guava into my palm. He frowned and I brought my other hand, the one now gripping a softball-sized rock, down onto his orange-speckled head. The impact made a meaty thunk and he slumped over the desk.

Yeah, a domain was far more than just a storage space.

I pulled the guy’s head backward and touched his throat with a hatchet blade and snarled, “If you shout, I cut.”

He didn’t make a sound other than a faint wheeze. Smart guy.

“Where’s the crachen? The one they just imprisoned.”

He didn’t answer. Maybe not so smart.

“I’ve got no reason to keep you alive,” I told him. “But if you answer my questions, I’ll ...”

Then I realized that it was me who wasn’t so smart. Because I’d knocked this guy the fuck out. He was unconscious. Damn. After hating myself for a few seconds, I dragged him into a corner behind a desk. I gagged and tied him and told myself that the next time I wouldn’t hit quite so hard. Still the good news was that I had a place to drag my prey for a little chat. I just needed a single soldier to walk past this office. I stole nine foam beads from the guy’s pouch then peeked through the door into the hallway, waiting for a likely victim.

After a minute, my webtouch gave me a faint twinge. I tensed, ready to move, and peeked through the door with a smoky tendril. Three soldiers walked past. Too many. A few minutes after than, two more followed. Still too many. I needed one soldier of low level if I wanted to keep this quiet, so I kept waiting.

Finally, a single pair of footsteps sounded in the hallway. I waited for them to pass the office, visualizing my moves: open the door quietly, approach from behind and--

My smokey hand detected a surprising flash of color.

A dress. Light green, with ruffles and frills and hems and flounces.

Miss Kathina.

I almost burst from hiding swinging my hatchets but I restrained myself. I couldn’t raise the alarm before I found Erdinand. So I waited until she reached the end of the hallway, then I stepped from the office and followed.

Maybe I’d get lucky. Maybe she’d head for her quarters for the night and I’d stop in for a little chat. Make her tell me about Erdinand--and then make her pay for murdering that kid.

She turned left at the end of the hallway.

A few seconds later, I did the same.