“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.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“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—with some difficulty due to the tight space—to 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 naïve,” 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.”