Even though Anki said the staircase was reinforced, there were hairline cracks on the walls inside as well. Was it due to the earthquake, or the explosives, no one knew. The team agreed to descend several floors before looking for an entrance, to circumnavigate the ruined parts of the ziggurat.

The silence was palpable. The only sounds were the ones they made. It kept them talking if only to fill their ears with anything more than their breaths, footsteps, and the hum of their blood. At first, they were concerned about fresh air, but there was a constant, cold breeze coming from somewhere, dispersing the smell of oil burning in their lamps.

Each level had a door, made of an unfamiliar, reddish alloy. It wasn’t copper, although the color was similar. They were surrounded by symbols, carvings, and painted reliefs that were mostly abstract – signs of the ancient script, usually - and only sometimes depicted recognizable images, like little human silhouettes, three sister moons, and the suns. Oswald told them these were numbers and floor descriptions, but that they didn’t make sense. According to Anki, the sense was there, but Oswald’s knowledge about their meaning was not.

“Branching Flowers of Computation,” he read once. “Crystalline Memory-matrices. Liquid Nourishing Air-Cooled. Caution.” He shook the part of him that sort of looked like his head. “You know, you could learn all the script you want, all the ancient speech to know the words, and never understand what these signs represent. Even with your photographic memory, you can’t bring this dead world back to life.”

“I have no idea what that means, but I agree,” Nua answered, “I can’t. Do you know where you want to go?

“We want to enter a floor with a linker between the buildings. This is the Fourth Tower, Eastern Wing. The… clues I am looking for will be near the center. This is a long walk, so they need to feel motivated.”

“Level twenty-two,” Oswald announced at last. “That means we’re ten floors down. I see no fractures on the wall. We could try going in. Quintus, would you mind…?”

“The corridor linking the buildings is two more levels down,” Anki informed. “Discourage them, just like we discussed.”

Nua nodded almost imperceptibly and took a deep breath.

“Wait,” she said. “I wouldn’t go into this one.”

She pointed at the symbol shaped like a pyramid. “This is a trap.”

Oswald frowned.

“Do you know what it means?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Not sure. I know that when people found stuff marked with these triangles in the scrapyard, they died a horrible death. As if they suffocated.”

The Northerner focused on the script, muttering under his breath.

“Well,” he said at last, “It has a symbol for the element of air, and there are symbols for water and ice next to it. I’ve seen several of these until now. That could read as “Air, turned to water, turns to frost. This is a common phrase though. You can find those symbols everywhere in the ancient texts, and they’re usually inscribed on the machinery. I don’t think it’s a trap.”

“We can also go down and find a door without the triangles,” Nua suggested. “Two more?”

“My knees can take it,” Quintus joked. “Raya?”

“I will be fine.”

They descended further. At level twenty, the door looked different. There were decorations around the frame, and the symbols were arranged vertically, forming short phrases. The king read the script to Nua, paying no attention to Oswald’s attempt at translating (which, this time, was not as hilariously wrong as before – there were no idiomatic expressions involved).

“Emergency passage to Ninisina Nammu’s Tower Thirteen. Outside visitors need to present their life code.”

“Life code, all right. How do we do that?” Nua eyed the stylized inverse relief of a hand at the side of the door. Simple reasoning demanded placing a palm on it.

“We don’t. My ether makes us count as insiders. The security will recognize it.”

“I thought this was not your temple.”

“You’re right. I was always welcome, though. Barring the highest security chambers, I could probably override most defenses in here.”

Nua turned to Oswald.

“This one has no triangles.”

“Yes, I can see that,” he said. “Lucky find. We should be outside the explosion range; I hope the earthquake did not destroy these corridors. Raya, bring the vial and pour the blood on the door.”

“Rather, apply a drop of blood into the hollow,” the priestess scoffed.

“Details.”

“Does my blood contain your ether?” Nua turned to Anki.

“It is relatively fresh, and you’ve been channeling shortly before giving it, so there should be traces,” he frowned. “Although it could be overwhelmed by your own life force. If it doesn’t work, we’ll have to figure out the way to use it without drawing their attention.”

Nua was watching the priestess deposit a smudge of crimson liquid in the sculpted palm shape.

“I’m thinking, Anki, all this lying is going to bite me in the ass. It did before. What was the word? Consequences.”

“You are aware that we cannot allow ourselves to trust those people.”

“I know, I know.” Nua sighed. “It just, you see, it sets me apart from the others.”

“True camaraderie is a rare find,” Anki declared, “Even more so when people in power are involved.”

“Like with the whole Flavius’ affair? Not sure if I’d like that.”

“Believe me, sometimes there is no other choice. Scheme or be outschemed.”

“You are a bitter person, Anki. Though you have your reasons, I guess.”

A low rumble made the walls and the floor vibrate. The symbols surrounding the door came alight with a warm glow, and the copper door retracted halfway into the ceiling, where it stuck, trembling and grinding at the stone, unable to go up any further. Magic lamps flickered on the other side, illuminating the entrance and revealing a wide corridor. It was half sunken, with cracked and misshapen tiles, but - at least at first sight - there was no sign of soot.

Everyone went silent for a while. Tension permeated the air.

“Well.” At last, Quintus broke the silence. “Shall we?”

They entered.