“You know, Bors, I’m starting to get the feeling you’re a bad luck charm.”

“Why would you say that, brother?”

“Half the places you take me to, we’re captured at some point.”

“We have to escape,” Bors said.

“Yes, but how?” Tosh asked. “Can you summon your Gate yet?” he asked, looking at Tessa.

She shook her head. “No. They’re blocking it somehow. Which, if it weren’t so vile and painful, would be a really Friday thing to witness.”

Tosh didn’t even attempt to ask her what she meant. He instead looked to Bors. “I doubt we’ll be able to escape the same—”

The door opened, and one of the masked people of the Collective appeared. The body then slumped forward into the cell, and the near-nude form of the woman the three had seen chained to a table strode in, looking at each of them in turn. “Hello. This is your time to escape.”

Bors didn’t say anything, he started forward into the hallway. Tosh looked at the woman. “How did you—”

“Don’t be Tuesday, Tosh. We need to go,” Tessa said, sliding by him to join Bors in the hallway.

“Coming?” the woman asked, looking from him to the hallway and back.

Tosh stared at her. He didn’t trust her at all. Something is very weird and wrong here. He took a step forward and reached out to touch the woman. She recoiled.

“We don’t have time for play,” the woman said, looking at Tosh.

Tosh shook his head as she strode out of the chamber. Something is very wrong here. He felt a strange disconnect. Bors and Tessa had already left. He blinked and moved into the hallway and found the three of them at the end of the long hallway, waving him forward.

“But, how—”

“Come on, brother,” Bors said.

Tosh staggered forward, feeling lightheaded. He staggered against the wall and felt drained, as if moving another step would be too taxing. Bors and Tessa left him behind. The woman stared at him for a moment before she too disappeared.

He dropped his head into his hands, feeling weak and powerless. “What’s going on?”

“Brother, are you well?”

Tosh looked up and found himself still in the cell with Bors and Tessa. Bors stood over him, looking down at him with concern. Tosh growned in confusion. ”What is—”

“You walked over and slammed your head against the door. I had to stop you. You then dropped to the ground.”

Tosh reached up to touch his head. It was tender, and blood was starting to run down his face. “What in the Hells?”

“I don’t know,” Tessa said, “but Nix is concerned.” The serpent hissed, looking around, constantly moving at the slightest noise, his tongue flicking out, tasting the air.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“The last thing I saw was the woman appearing and taking you two out ahead to escape, leaving me,” Tosh said as Bors pressed a cloth to his forehead.

“That didn’t happen,” Bors said. “You pounded your head—”

“I heard you the first time. And I can feel the pain in my head.”

Tosh looked at the cloth, wondering where Bors had gotten it. It was a gaudy piece of golden cloth. It was cool to the touch, and it did feel good against the pain at his scalp. He then heard a titter of laughter and looked to one shadowed area of the cell. He thought he caught the sight of a gaudy robe like his captors wore.

“Tosh, what’s wrong?”

Tosh focused on Bors. “Nothing. I thought I saw something in the shadows.”

“Always jumping at shadows, aren’t you,” said Bors with a grin.

“It’s how you appeared. So maybe—”

“Nonsense.”

Tosh quirked an eyebrow. “Bors. Where did we meet?” He also closed his mind off. It wasn’t much, but there was something in the back of his head.

“We met . . . we met . . . in a cell. I bested you at a contest. You came to free me,” Bors said, giving Tosh a laugh.

“Why do you call me brother? What were we fighting?” Tosh asked, pushing himself to his feet and backing away a step. He then thought of the bandits he’d faced before coming to find Bors.

Bors let out a laugh. “Come now. We were fighting the bandits together. They captured us and—”

Tosh smirked and jerked his head toward the shadowy corner. “Nice try.”

Bors stopped at that moment. Everything did. The form of Bors melted away, as did Tessa, Nix, and the stone cell. Instead, he was seated on a plush chair, gazing at one of the Collective.

“Well, I thought I could bluff my way through,” the copper-masked woman said. “Worth a shot.”

Tosh glared at the woman in the mask. Rage welled up inside him, something he’d thought he only had for his father. “You tried to tinker with my mind. For fun?”

The copper-masked woman gave him a shrug. “It is a boring—”

Before she could finish, Tosh struck out with his hand, hitting her in the chest. She gasped, doubling over. Tumbling from her chair, she tried to reach for something on her belt. “You . . . you horrible—”

Tosh kicked her hard to make her stop. He kicked the small raygun she was reaching for out of reach. “I might be, but I don’t tinker in people’s heads for fun.” Tosh stepped over the crying woman, scooped up the raygun, and left the room. He turned and burned the door closed with lances of crimson from the raygun.

The hallway was a riot of gold and silver arches with a marble stone floor, polished to a bright sheen with a runner of dark green and black along the center. He had no idea where to go, so he listened but couldn’t hear anything. There were a few other doors that he hesitated to try nearby, but when he did he found the room behind each one empty. Each also had a stink of someone who’d been there a very long time.

He continued down the corridor, the décor changing as he did. It grew more utilitarian with less polished metal. The floor grew rougher and less polished. Until at last, after hundreds of yards, he was in a rough-hewn stone tunnel. The light from the floating sconces was gone. He had taken one of the last drifting globes and tethered it to himself, following the large tunnel. There were a few branching tunnels that he didn’t go down, and the reek of animals drifted toward him from the dark side branches.

At last, he came to the end of the tunnel. There was a large black-iron gate of a jail cell. Inside, he saw the same woman from earlier. She was tied to the wall, without a stitch of clothing. It didn’t feel right. Part of him expected to appear in another chamber with a masked Collective member. Still, he had to see if she was real or not. She looked so real.

“Who are you?” the woman asked, looking up.

“I’ve come to rescue you,” Tosh said. “Well, my friends and I have.”

“How?”

He didn’t have a key, but he did have the pistol. He burned the door lock, pulled it open, and felt the surge of adrenaline leave as he leaned against the cell door gasping for breath She gave him an awkward glance as he huffed for a moment. “You’re here to rescue me?”

“We were sent to find the Eye of Saturnalia. That’s you, right?”

“One of my names, but I prefer Ella,” the woman said. “Who sent you?”

“He calls himself the Master, but—”

A roar came from the tunnel.

“We need to get out of here,” she said. “Please, untie me.”

Tosh examined the ropes and swiftly realized he could not untie her. The ropes and knots looked complex, almost Gordian. “I don’t think I . . .” He stopped and looked at the raygun in his hand. Well, it worked for Alexander the Great.