As I picked my way through the red-shifted wreckage of the fallen and abandoned, the feeling I got when absorbing mana from a dead enemy didn’t go away. If anything, it intensified - an electric anticipation like constant goosebumps. I didn’t hear the question anymore, but it was as if the reverberation of it hung in the air, echoing just above the surface of my skin.

I considered this feeling as I walked, carefully avoiding rusty shards of metal - what an embarrassment it would be to die of tetanus after coming so far. The sensation wasn’t painful, but what caused it? The thoughts ran idly as I navigated the debris, which was stacked taller than I was in some places.

The question feeling hadn’t stuck around like that any other time I’d killed something. In fact, sometimes the feeling was so faint that I hardly even noticed it, and said yes to the question nearly subconsciously. Something was different, this time.

Finally I stopped, frozen in thought, standing before another nameless skeleton and pile of ruined gear. “Is this the Second Ring?” I wondered aloud. My voice sounded lonely in the pit - the only other noise the constant murmuring sound cause by the movements of the rats - and whatever else dwelled among the garbage.

The idea was worth testing, I decided. Hurriedly, I took a single nail from my pocket, threw it on the ground and, careful to replace the staff in its strap on my back before casting, released a shot of mana into the nail. It ignited, the flame larger than it had been, but not hugely, and still much smaller than with the staff.

I frowned. It seemed like a difference in degree, not what I would expect from going up an entire rank. Also, Amaia had said something about getting a new “category” when you went up a level, based on the first thing you killed. The idea of a “category” was still vague to me - the only examples I had were fire, wood, metal, cutting, and maybe lightning, counting Nolan. And Leah, with the Ice magic. And whatever Berenguer used. Other than cutting, they all seemed like elements.

I didn’t think I had any new spells, though how would I even know? Amaia had said it would be “instinctive.”

Maybe I didn’t get into the Second Ring, I thought, scratching my chin. But maybe I’m on the edge. Maybe the next thing I kill will put me over.

That seemed possible. The feeling did have a certain “bursting at the seams” quality to it. Nolan had to have been a First Ring mage - though I wouldn’t be surprised if there were other cheating Second Ringers - but maybe he was close to advancing - maybe he had so much mana in his pool that killing him had rocketed me to the precipice of the Second Ring.

Amaia hadn’t talked too much about getting mana from other mages - only mentioned it once, I thought - but maybe that’s just because she didn’t think we’d be murdering anyone. I shook my head. Self-defense. Not murder. It was an important distinction.

“If I’m on the edge,” I muttered excitedly. “Then I’m about to get a new spell! That’s just what I need right now. I should hurry up and find a Kalamuzi or something.”

I looked around. There were still the Kalamuzi crowds coming and going from the omphalos, where it loomed high and far off, but I didn’t like my chances against a swarm of them. If I could get one on its own…

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and pivoted on my heel. But it was nothing. Just a rat. A normal rat.

“Would that work?” I wondered. Cadoc had mentioned way back that even animals had a small amount of magic. I shrugged. What harm was there in trying?

Casually, I took my slingshot from my belt and loaded a steel ball. I pulled back the bands, took aim-

And stopped. “Wait a minute,” I said, furrowing my brow and lowering my weapon.

“Amaia said that the category you get is based on what you kill, right? What the hell kind of magic would I get from a rat?”

The rat scurried off as I considered it, likely having no idea how lucky it had just gotten.

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It was a more complicated question than it seemed. When I asked it of myself, I had said it dismissively, like it was obviously foolish to kill a rat for your Ring Category - or whatever you called it. But the more I thought of it, the more I realized how ignorant I was.

Maybe killing a rat would give you disease magic. “Just what I need,” I said sarcastically. “The ability to give my own body diseases. Cower in fear as I cast leprosy. On myself.”

Or maybe it would let me grow out big buck teeth, or move stealthily, hear better, or grow a tail. Were those categories? Tail magic? Teeth magic?

Could I influence it? I wondered. When I took Nolan’s magic, I could feel my body picking through it, absorbing some parts and discarding other parts. Could I do that consciously?

I sighed heavily. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the kind of thing you could test before committing. If I killed the rat, and focused my mind on absorbing the category of “stealth,” for instance - I could certainly use some stealth - I could just end up with “disease,” anyway. These were all just theories, after all.

I wished Amaia was around. Or Naomi, even. One of them would know what to do, would at least have some idea. Especially Amaia, being a Second Ring mage herself. I regretted not asking Amaia more questions while she was around - I had thought I could ask her whenever, since she wasn’t going anywhere, and so there was no rush. Besides, talking to her was aggravating enough that I did it sparingly.

“Guess I could always wait until I find them,” I grumbled. I was a disappointing idea, but I couldn’t waste this opportunity. This was my chance to fix my magic, to get something actually useful. Sure, I’d still be a body mage, but at least I could be something more dangerous, like the Cho’l.

And then, for one moment, my heart sank. If I want to wait until Amaia is back, I thought. Does that mean I can’t kill anything? Otherwise I’ll be stuck with whatever worthless power I get. Shit.

But no, I realized with relief, that wasn’t how it worked. I should just be able to say no after everything I killed.

Which led to its own set of questions; who gets the mana if I say no? The Kalamuzi scurrying around? Or does it just evaporate? Normally one of your companions gets it, it seems. If Cadoc is wandering around down here, would he get it?

“No use thinking about it too hard,” I said. “Now is the time for action, not theories.”

On the other hand, I needed a plan.

I had to assume that the women were inside the omphalos somewhere, and I had to assume that Cadoc was either with them, or out here in the bonefield with me. I would press forward with those assumptions until it was impossible to continue - then I’d reassess, if I absolutely had to.

The cavern was a massive oval - one half containing the omphalos. The half I was in was like the trash heap of the trash heap, I thought. It was hard to imagine the Kalamuzi ever throwing something away, and yet there I was, in something like a landfill. Or maybe it was where the Kalamuzi sorted through new things, whatever fell from above. If I looked carefully, I could see agile Kalamuzi scaling the walls of the omphalos, carrying buckets of trash and gore with their pinkish tails. They grabbed handfuls of the filth, and used it to fill in gaps in the walls - or so I assumed. I couldn’t see any gaps from that distance.

The idea that the Kalamuzi might come here to find new building materials was both a worrying thought, and an exciting one. On one hand, that meant the risk of being discovered. On the other had, it meant that they would likely come in a smaller group. A manageable amount of enemies, perhaps. And builders, not warriors. If that made a difference.

My first order of business was simple: find my drows. At the moment, I had nothing I could use at close range. I had to fix that, and I had to do it before something down here found me. My nerves were starting to fray - I felt inexplicably like I was being watched.

I began plodding through the blood-soaked mud again, eyes alternating between scanning my surroundings and peering down at the trash at my feet. There was little ability to hide - my steps left large wet footprints in the mud, and the noise of it made me wince. I stayed within a few yards of the cavern’s edge, following its course, keeping it in sight. It was the only point of reference down there besides the omphalos. Everything else blended together.

I became more uneasy as time went - both out of frustration, and because I knew I was acting on borrowed time. The longer I took, the worse chances my friends had. The feeling that something was following me didn’t help, either. I kept stealing glances back behind me, when some splatter or shifting trash would catch my attention, but never saw anything certain. Ghosts of movement, sometimes, but faint enough to be nothing but shadows. Maybe.

I thought through the possibilities as I searched. Cadoc was a wild card - he hadn’t been captured, only injured, and I didn’t think the injury would kill him. He might kill himself in some idiotic charge, but otherwise, he should be safe enough. I didn’t need to worry about him any more than normal.

Amaia and Noami, on the other hand… why hadn’t the Kalamuzi just eaten them? I had assumed they were saving them for later, but then what? Would they be kept as livestock, maybe? I remembered the kidnapped women and children again, from the town we had passed, Graja. Livestock. That could be it.

It was honestly a reassuring thought. You didn’t kill your livestock for no reason. And they’d probably fatten them up first, before eating them. If they had other prisoners - which they almost certainly did, I thought - then they should be the last to be eaten, right?

It was all disturbing, but not impossible. I had time.

Of course, I only had a couple of weeks until I needed to send my mom more money than I’d ever possessed in my life. One problem at a time. If the ratmen piled all of their loot inside that wretched hive, I would be able to find something, surely.

I needed to find a way in, find out where the women were being held, find a way to break them free, find a way to contact Cadoc, and find a way back out. I looked up at the yawning expanse of blackness. That last one might be the hardest of them all.

When I returned my eyes to my surroundings, I saw it. There, sticking nearly straight up, half of its length sunken in the detritus, was my drows. I grinned wildly, and rushed to it. Well, rushed as quickly as I could while wading through the muck.

In my haste, I failed to notice the quick sounds of something approaching, the wet footsteps swallowed up by my own.

I grabbed at the antisword, and it came free from the mud easily. I raised it above my head in a gesture of triumph. I still didn’t have a solid plan, but at least now I could break some Kalamuzi bones. Killing the runts, despite the fact that it could have gone better, had given me some confidence. I could kill Kalamuzi, if I was smart. I had lots of tools at my disposal.

Then something lunged at me from behind, screeching in some bestial tongue.