Teriyaki marinade wafted through the darkness, and Zoe took a step toward the smell. Something squished underfoot, and she withdrew. It felt like a steak against her sole. It probably was, what with the description the Gambler gave for round 1, but…

She feared the meat would be human.

Anton cast out his silver eyes as Jack released his burning petals. Warm light filled the room. The walls were the same deep red as the outside but were farther away than Zoe expected. Flickering light spread as the petals and eyes roamed. The room was around the size of a tennis court. Three gaudy black metal constructions stood before them. They were fashioned from ornate iron grills, looped and whirled and bent until they held the shape of a table. Each held slabs of raw meat and vegetables. The smells of marinade and spices were overwhelming as Zoe walked amongst them.

“Does anyone see the key?” she asked.

Bella poked a marbled steak with her sword.

“Maybe it's buried inside one of these?”

Sand fell into the center of the room. There was a hole in the ceiling and the molten flow poured down. Zoe could feel the heat even from a distance. The air grew dry. Even though the hole was only the size of a fist, the sand poured fast enough that it would soon fill the room.

“I think the key will be hidden near the sand,” she said. “Otherwise, the sand wouldn’t prevent a challenge.”

“We better hurry then.”

Bella hacked at a thick rolled loin. The string-tied meat unfurled and revealed soft butter and a stick of rosemary.

“I have a better idea,” Oriz said.

“Of course you do,” Bella scowled.

“Bella,” Zoe whispered. “Please. We can sort this out later.”

“Of course,” Bella smiled with all her teeth. “What’s your idea, Oriz?”

Oriz leaped on top of a table. She reached out and stuck a finger into the burning sand. Her dainty grey feet smushed a thick potato into a paste as she twisted and leaped again. With her fist outstretched, she punched the hole in the ceiling. Her arm sunk up to her elbow, and then she hung there.

No more sand fell.

“Just as I thought. He didn’t calculate the heat for people over level 50,” she said through gritted teeth. “It stings, but now you don’t have to worry about the time limit.”

[Ahem]

[You aren’t supposed to do that]

Zoe grinned.

“Is it against the rules?”

[...]

[I asked you to be entertaining]

Anton started dancing as he moved along the tables, his eyes scanning the platters of meat closest to where the sand had fallen.

“How’s this?” he said as he spun. “Entertaining enough for you?”

[The audience likes it. Keep dancing, monkey boy, and to the esteemed leader of the ever-surprising team three, may I present a word of advice?]

Cold prickled Zoe’s skin despite the suffocating heat.

“What?” she said.

[You may think yourself clever for skirting or breaking rules, but you do not make them. Remember who does]

An ominous silence followed.

“Ahem,” Oriz said. “It does sting, so if you could hurry?”

“Right,” Zoe said with a clap. “Let’s find the key!”

###

The audience of the Magnifying Glass was one of the most prestigious places in the universe. It was the place to be for anyone who was anyone. Being a regular was gauche, but everyone went sometimes.

There were several reasons.

Some went for the spectacle alone. After all, blood feeds the mind, and after a century, after millennia, the mind grows starved. There was something true and visceral in vicariously experiencing the system anew. These contestants plucked from fresh worlds — still with their eyes full of wonder and horror — the truth of the sublime in their inexperienced gaze — such sweet nectar the howling fans in the stands could taste it in their souls. That was one reason those with a hundred levels and a Mountain or two under their belt watch the young ones suffer.

But many more went to take advantage of the trans-dimensional space offered by the Gambler. Freed from the constraints of time and distance, the universe's elites could meet and talk no matter where they were located.

It was this second reason that saw Rue sitting up in the stands. The carved ice-marble seating was cool and comfortable. He leaned forward on his knees, his malachite robe spilled open to reveal his sleek and slender muscles. His eyes fixed on Zoe as she commanded her companions to search through the meat and vegetables systematically. All while her mentor kept the sand hole plugged.

“I never thought you would be a spectator of one of these games,” said an unwelcome voice.

Rue didn’t look up.

“Greetings, Tristana.”

The noblewoman sat beside him. She was taller than Rue, with bone white skin and black oily hair piled high in stacks on top of her hair. She crossed one leg over the other and steepled her fingers on her bony knee as her leather skirt slid up.

“Greetings, he says, after almost a century with no contact. I don’t know if the frontier suits you, or if you suit the frontier.”

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

“War impedes communication.”

“At our level, nothing impedes anything.”

Rue smiled but continued looking ahead as Zoe’s team grew increasingly frantic in their search. What would happen when the timer ran out? The sand was not present, but he trusted the Gambler’s devious nature to come up with some trap.

After all, paying tribute to the Gambler was the third, and most prominent, reason that anybody came to the show..

“Very true,” he said after a moment. “I despise you. Is that better?”

She nodded.

“And how is my sister?”

“Lorrilla is herself, as ever.”

“I don’t know how she can devote the energy to wrangling your dark moods.”

“Hmmm. Why did you summon me here, Tristana?”

She smiled cold and bright like thin ice over a deep lake.

“I wanted to tell you in person I will visit your incorporation.”

Rue stiffened. The air churned as his rage formed the truth of war. Bladed vortices spun away from his skin as he faced her for the first time.

“Why?”

She ignored his display of menace — the same display that had quelled the uprising world — and leaned closer until her thin lips were inches from his.

“Why, I got to inquire. That is the job of the Inquisition, is it not?”

Rue’s brow darkened, his mouth parted, his muscles flexed —

A golden glove settled on his shoulder with inevitable weight.

“Hello, dearies,” said the Gambler.

Rue froze.

“Hello,” he said as his deadly turbulence winked out.

Tristana inclined her head.

“Greetings.”

The Gambler smiled thinly.

“I believe you have forgotten your place. You have forgotten where you are. This is a show, where you sit and watch and cheer and jeer and feel a brief glow in the heart right here,” he touched his breast. “Will you two behave?”

Tristana bowed low.

“Of course we shall.”

But Rue stood.

“I make no promises, and so I shall leave.”

“And yet you visit so rarely!” The Gambler gasped in mock panic. “And I prepared such a special surprise for your little pet project. Don’t you want to see how Zoe performs?”

Rue stiffened, his eyes drawn to the stage. Some complex working of Skein was occurring, but the details were hazy.

Tristana noticed his gaze.

“Pet project?” she inquired drily. “What are you doing on that little world of yours, Rue?”

“Enough of this!” Rue said.

He vanished and reappeared on his knees. Sweat drenched his skin. His breathing came in gasps. The surrounding audience members watched him with wide eyes.

“You forgot something, truly a shame, but you did,” said the Gambler. “You forgot your parting gift.”

He reached inside his golden jacket and produced an envelope. Creamy paper that carried the weight of a world as he tapped Rue’s forehead.

“Take your present, child,” said the Gambler.

The parting gift. The fourth, the most revered, and the most terrifying reason anyone went to the Gambler’s show. Rue took the envelope with shaking fingers — fire flashed behind his eyes, but it was not the flames he knew, not the flames of war, no, some other hell burned there — and he tore it open.

A paper fluttered out. Tristana caught it and smiled as she started to read aloud.

“Congratulations, Rue the Reaper, the Bladed Forest, the World Ending Man, the Maelstrom of War, you have been invited to take part in episode 3 of the Magnifying Glass. Further invitations will follow.”

Rue’s heavy eyes closed.

“May I leave?” He ground out the words with an effort.

The Gambler snapped his fingers and Tristana sat alone.

“See you soon, Rue,” she whispered as she steepled her fingers and returned her attention to the stage.

If she was here, she might as well enjoy the show.

###

Barbeque sauce dripped from Zoe’s nails as she tore open a rack of ribs. Raw meat and bones fell onto the table, but there was no trace of a key.

“Has anyone found anything?” she fought and failed to hide the desperation from her voice.

“Nothing,” came the responses of her friends.

[29 seconds remaining]

[28 seconds remaining]

Meat lay scattered around the floor. Oily pools of marinade spread and traced their increasingly manic footprints. Above them, like a ridiculous chandelier, hung Oriz.

The dim warm light of Jack’s flaming petals, and the soft silver of Anton’s eyes, presented the hopeless scene. The red walls pulsed in the shifting light with an almost living glee.

Bella tried hacking at the walls but stopped when it only nicked her blade.

“Maybe there is no key?” Bella said. “Maybe that’s the joke?”

“He’s the Gambler,” Zoe murmured in thought. “Not the comedian. I think there’s a key.”

“But we’ve looked everywhere!”

Jack coughed.

“Um, sorry, but we haven’t looked everywhere.”

“What do you mean?” Zoe asked. “Because if it’s inside us…”

“No! Oh, maybe?” Jack eyed Bella’s blade with panic. “I meant, maybe it was meant to fall with the sand?”

Their eyes all turned up to Oriz.

“I knew it!” Bella shouted.

“Oriz?” Zoe asked. “Do you feel a key?”

Oriz shook her head. Despite her high levels, sweat beaded her brow.

“I don’t feel anything. The sand is all backed up.”

“Drop down,” Bella said. “Maybe it’s not too late to save this from your mistake.”

Oriz scowled at her.

“What do you think, Zoe?” she asked.

“We’ve tried everything else,” Zoe replied.

Oriz nodded, but then her eyes widened.

“I can’t let go!”

“What?”

“I’m stuck!”

Zoe leaped and grabbed hold of Oriz’s ankles. She heaved but only hung there with her toes trailing across a platter of smushed hamburger mince.

“Someone help!”

Anton added his weight to Zoe. Bella and Jack pulled on Zoe’s feet. It felt ridiculous to be used as a rope, but Zoe almost laughed as she realized she was probably stronger than any rope she had used in her past life.

[7 seconds remaining]

[6 seconds remaining]

What was going to happen?

Wait…

Maybe it was all a lie! Maybe Bella was right!

“Bella, try the door!”

[3 seconds remaining]

Bella sprinted. She slid across the oily floor, scrambled, and slammed into the red door set into the red wall.

[1 seconds remaining]

She grabbed the handle. Turned. And the door fell open.

“Yes!” Zoe shouted.

[Time is up. Proceeding to the next phase of Round 1]

“What?”

The floor tilted.

Bella rolled backward away from the open door. The tables and meat and sauce all slid toward the edge of the lowering floor. Beyond the edge, lay only darkness.

Anton reached down and grabbed Bella as she passed. One hand around Zoe’s waist, the other gripping Bella’s wrist. Jack grabbed one of Bella's shoes with both hands before he slid out of range. The motion jerked Zoe, but Oriz’s wrist remained firmly glued in place.

The team hung from the ceiling as the floor dropped away, and a fathomless dark yawned beneath them.