The prisoners were gathering themselves—treating injuries, picking up weapons, and looting the guards in the cavern—the 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.

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

“Isca!” Gwil yelped, skipping over to them. “Did anyone die?”

She fixed him with her black-in-black eyes. “No. No one.” She smiled—her 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—bare rough, rock. Dripping wet. Littered with scraps and gravel.

“Wh–what’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.