“I’m telling you, Rayden, you’re making a mountain out of a molehill,” the City Lord growled, pointing with his finger at the two Soul Dice hovering just above the pedestals bearing the names of Grey and Palemoon. “That - that could mean anything.”
“Anything?” Captain Rayden shook her head, unable to understand why the Baron refused to even consider the possibility of those two getting out. “Like what?” Sure, sometimes their dice would fizzle out, only to light up again at a given time, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for the dice of those lost to the labyrinths.
“I don’t know, the cubes ran out of mana, they’re defective or something, I don’t know - I’m not an expert,” the City Lord wrung his hands, annoyed by the whole exchange. But Freyde could see that Lord Egerton’s body language spoke of something else; there was more to it than that. Sure, he saw their captain as a pain in the ass, just as she saw him. What really annoyed him, however, was that once again something had disturbed the established order of things in his city - namely a former slave, Korra Grey.
“How can you say that, Max? This is Stella you’re talking about! My little girl!” Margareth Palemoon barked at him. The first time Freyde had seen the sister of the City Lord and their squad leader’s mother. The resemblance between her and Stella was almost frightening.
“I know, Marg,” Baron Egerton said, much softer to his sister than to their captain. The contrast couldn’t have been more striking. “She’s my niece, and believe it or not, I wish she was back too, but . . .” He paused and looked at the man in the City Hall uniform examining the two Soul Dice on the shelves of the Wall of the Lost, the Chief Warden of the Castiana City Hall. “Aren’t they still lost in the damn Labyrinth?”
Silence fell in the Hall of Souls.
Freyde hadn’t had much first-hand experience with the City Lord, and from what he’d heard from Korra and Stella, he wasn’t a man of much reason, driven mostly by his greed and lack of responsibility. But for once, the man was right.
“Um . . .” The Chief Warden cleared his throat. “I’m afraid that’s hard to say, my lord. Whether they’re lost in Fallen’s Cry, I mean. As far as I know, there is no precedent for those who were lost to the Labyrinth returning. But - apparently the Labyrinth was able to find them now for some reason.”
Freyde almost snapped, accusing the man of lying. Well, technically he wasn’t; yet what he said wasn’t what he really thought either, his words were filtered to please the City Lord. The way he tried to suck up to the bald man was all too obvious - at least to Freyde. People like that made him sick. It was his experience with others like the Chief Warden from his days as an accountant, the way some tried to butter him up to get him to bat an eye in the books.
On the other hand, the Chief Warden’s behavior was somewhat understandable - the City Lord was his direct superior, not Mrs. Palemoon nor Captain Rayden.
“Is there really no way to tell if they’re in the Labyrinth or not?” Stella’s mother’s gaze was razor-sharp, making the clerk man flinched. “Not that I know of, Lady Palemoon. The Soul Dice are connected to the seeker’s life; it’s the connection that allows them to enter Fallen’s Cry, nothing more.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well . . .”
“I’ll put out a notice for people who might know something.”
Freyde held his breath in hope. Mrs. Palemoon - that was how she preferred to be called, according to Stella, not the lady - and her husband were savvy businessmen with far-reaching connections. As soon as Stella had gotten lost in the labyrinth, they had done everything in their power to get her back - alas, without success. However, now that the situation had changed, there was a chance that they could find someone who could tell them where Korra and Stella were.
“You can do that, my lady, but I assure you, they won’t be able to tell you any more than I will. Over the centuries, studies have been conducted to find those trapped in the labyrinths . . .”
“Shouldn’t we tell librarian Sandoval and his assistant Mooney to come? If it’s about such records, they might know more,” Meneur spoke, only to lower his head. “I’m sorry for overstepping myself, ma’am, sir, l-lord.”
“No, I think it’s a good idea. Well done, Ironhoof,” Captain Rayden praised their timid squad mage to the confusion of Stella’s mother.
“Sandoval and Mooney? They work in your mansion’s library, Max?”
‘Max?’ Freyde wondered at the name by which Stella’s mother had addressed her brother, Baron Egerton, for the second time. Surely it must have been a nickname, a shortened version of his full name. Maxim; Maximilian; Maxwell. For some reason, he never bothered to find out the full name of their City Lord.
“No,” Baron Egerton grimaced. “They work in the old City Library. A stubborn old mule and an ambitious young broad.”
“That place? I haven’t been there since . . .” Without thinking twice about his choice of words, Mrs. Palemoon faltered, obviously weighed down by the painful memory. “. . . since the Mind Wars broke out. Our father liked the place.”
“He did,” Captain Rayden said fondly.
“You know those two, San?”
That they were on good terms came as no surprise to Freyde. Captain Rayden made no secret of her relationship with the late Lord Egerton, the general she had served under, Stella’s grandfather, who had taken her and others under his protective wing. They must have known each other since childhood, likewise with the City Lord. Moreover, Stella had mentioned more than once how the Captain would occasionally drop by her house to chat with her mother.
“The librarian, who is currently in charge of the library, and the assistant from Wagonbrei who was sent here by the Imperial Chief Healer to help Sandoval search through the books.”
“Imperial Chief Healer? A librarian from the capital? Why didn’t you mention any of this to me?” Mrs. Palemoon shot back, outraged and hurt.
“Because I’m not obligated to tell you everything,” the Captain replied briskly to her friend. “Besides, I know how much you dislike books. So when they didn’t find anything in them when Grey and your daughter went missing, I saw no reason to tell you.”
Stella’s mother clenched her fists and turned visibly red. “No reason?! I wonder what else you’ve been hiding from me! I wouldn’t be surprised if you sent my daughter to the Labyrinth to . . .”
Frayde had to admit that Mrs. Palemoon, when angry like that, bore a striking resemblance to her brother, the City Lord.
“. . . to what?” Rayden asked, not liking what she was implying. But she was not a woman to be easily drawn into an argument. Before anything that might be regretted could be said, Captain Rayden struck everyone with her soothing aura.
“I’m s-sorry, Sanysia. I don’t know what got into me. I just . . . I really want my little girl back.”
“I get it, Meredith, believe me, I do. I wish to get her back, too, both of them.”
“Then - what do you suggest we do?”
“What Private Ironhoof suggested - send for Sandoval and Mooney.”
“Um,” the Chief Warden cleared his throat again to get attention. “If you’d let me finish earlier, you’d know it is a waste of time. As I said, there have been many studies of Soul Dice over the centuries, and none of them have shown a way to find those still wandering the labyrinths. There is no book in which you can find the answer.”
“And you’ve read all the books?” Harper asked, not very respectfully, knowing full well that he hadn’t. It was beyond the power of the librarians themselves - hence the search through the books by Mr. Sandoval and Miss Mooney.
“Excuse me, who is she again? Actually, who are these three?”
“An excellent question,” Baron Egerton nodded. “What blasted reason do they have to be here, Rayden?”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Squadmates of Grey and Palemoon. They and Sergeant Pinescar, standing outside, were there when those two disappeared,” Rayden explained.
“Oh, I remember now . . .”
“Irrelevant; if they don’t know how to get my niece back, I want them gone. This is a family matter,” the City Lord cut the Chief Warden off. More and more Freyde understood why Korra disliked him so much and why Stella didn’t speak well of her uncle. The man - for a baron - didn’t mince his words or behave in a manner befitting his position.
In any case, he was right. They didn’t know how to get them back; if they did, they would have gotten them back by now. “Ma’am. We have no problem waiting outside.” If the two had really gotten out of wherever the damn maze had taken them, the chances of them showing up here in City Hall were close to zero, and thus there was no reason for them to wait there.
Captain Rayden, obviously tired of dealing with Lord Egerton, nodded. “But instead of standing outside in the lobby doing nothing, make a run for Sandoval and Mooney. I’d like to hear their thoughts on this, anyway.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Freyde saluted and turned to his squadmates. “Harper, Meneur, let’s go.”
“Don’t order me around, pointy ears,” Harper spat back, nevertheless following him.
“Pointless,” the Chief Warden sighed. “Even if there was a way to find out where they are in the Labyrinth, there is no way to get to them. You know that, Captain Rayden. You all know that, my lord, my lady.”
The Hall of the Lost fell silent again at his words. As much as they might not like it, as much as they might not want to admit it, the man was right. Even if they could figure out which floor they were on, it would still be impossible to get there. The labyrinths simply didn’t work that way - at each entry, a new instance of the identical floor was created. There was no known way to get into an instance that had already been created.
“What if they are not in the Labyrinth and have landed somewhere out there?” Freyde suggested, having stopped with the others at the entrance door.
“Nonsense. There is no known case of someone teleporting out of or into a labyrinth, let alone the labyrinth teleporting someone out of the platforms.”
“What are the three of you still doing here? Get out!”
“B-But there is one, sir,” Meneur objected, surprisingly finding the courage to ignore the City Lord’s bellow.
“Huh, true. Why didn’t I think of her?”
“San?” Mrs. Palemoon grabbed Captain Rayden’s arm, the flame of hope burning in her eyes. “There is someone?”
“Well, yes. Idleaf, the Esulmor World Tree. She can project her spirit into the Labyrinth, and . . . she managed to teleport Grey out.”
“Those two again,” Baron Egerton cursed. “They’re just a headache.”
A faint smirk appeared on Rayden’s face - on that, the two shared a rare understanding.
“Maxwell! If she can save my daughter . . .”
“I know,” he raised his hand to stop his sister and looked at the Captain. “Rayden, if you can get my niece out . . . I’ll give you the budget you demanded.”
“. . .” For the first time, Freyde saw Captain Rayden at a loss for words. The woman was utterly incapable of voicing a single word. And she wasn’t the only one in shock. He himself was not sure if he had heard the City Lord correctly. After all, it was not a small amount of money. So when the Imperial Chief Healer was in Castiana demanding an explanation for the underfunding of the City Guards, Lord Egerton found every excuse why he couldn’t allocate more from the city budget. His promise was thus . . .
“Traiana’s tits!” Harper, standing next to him, gushed as she snapped out of her stupor. Not the most appropriate thing she could have said, but it pretty accurately conveyed what was on everyone’s mind. Besides, the way she blurted it out brought the others out of their shock.
“All right, that is . . . I’ll hold you to your word, Egerton.”
The City Lord nodded, obviously already regretting having said it.
“You three,” Captain Rayden turned to them. “Tell Pinescar to get things ready for the trip to Esulmor. And prepare yourselves as well. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, but Idleaf should be able to project her spirit near Grey as long as she’s within range of her roots - so if they got out and are on this planet, she should be able to find her Guardian - and Stella, of course, if they’re together,” she added as Mrs. Palemoon squeezed her hand harder and more insistently.
“And the library, ma’am?”
“That order still stands, Welkes.”
Captain Rayden didn’t have to explain any further, nor did she want to. The look in her eyes said it all. If they were as capable as she trusted them to be, they should be able to adapt and figure out how to do this on their own.
“Yes, ma’am,” Freyde saluted, determined not to let his two missing squadmates down this time, and turned to the door, only to pause again.
His mind shook with overwhelming joy - he even laughed out loud. And he wasn’t the only one feeling beside himself with happiness. Harper giggled like a little girl - quite out of character for her, Meneur uttered a strange hum, the Chief Warden had a funny look on his face, Lord Egerton looked as if he had just won a pile of gold coins, Mrs. Palemoon was grinning from ear to ear as tears streamed down her cheeks. Only Captain Rayden seemed - well, if anything, she seemed to be getting a splitting headache.
“I really hate my job,” she cursed softly, already foreseeing the consequences of the mind wave that hit them all, and most likely the whole city.
“W-what happened?” Mrs. Palemoon stammered, wiping away tears.
“Well, if I had to guess,” Rayden smiled at her. “. . . Idleaf has found her Guardian. She has already found them, Meredith.”
***
“Out of my way, fucker!” Deckard boomed at the beast in his path. Alas, despite its not-so-little intelligence, the Night Trasher didn’t get the hint. A level-three-hundred-plus human was, in the eyes of the shadow creature, a level-three-hundred-plus beast itself, merely prey trespassing on its territory. And so when Deckard tried to chase it away with his presence, the beast struck back with its own.
Fight or flight were his only options.
Most of the time, he never even considered the latter. Sure, there was no shame in retreating. The Mind Wars had taught him that. However, if you wanted to keep progressing, the more reasonable choice was to find a way to win, to push yourself further. Of course, doing so required knowing your limits. And of those he was more than aware, stuck as he had been at bottlenecks in many of his skills for over two years now.
Not stuck as in dead stuck, but . . .
Gaining a level or two here and there per year in his skills was no progress at all. Annoyingly, no matter what Deckard did, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t break through that invisible barrier he crashed into with his skills - there was just something missing, an insight out of reach, slipping through his fingers.
And so the 132nd floor of Fallen’s Cry remained the lowest Deckard had reached in years. Even now, he sprinted back to the teleportation platform through the jungle so familiar to him, stretching across the entire floor and harboring beasts in the range of levels 292-307.
Well, as luck would have it, the beast in front of him reached the upper limit of the floor, level 306. Not a beast he couldn’t beat. In fact, killing a critter of this strength was usually fairly easy for him; after all, he had the confidence to face beasts one hundred or two hundred levels stronger, heck, even twice his level - for a limited time - as in the skirmish with the northern eagles, if . . . and there was a big “if”.
If they were solo like him.
And the problem with the Night Trashers was that they weren’t, not really. Once the fuckers realized their prey was in over their heads, they weren’t bashful about calling for help. Moreover, they weren’t the only beasts hunting in this jungle.
The inability to push on left him frustrated beyond belief. Both for himself, even though he had somewhat resigned himself to being stuck - admittedly not the best mindset to have - but also for his apprentice. The girl got under his skin faster than he had expected. Deckard knew all too well from his army days how dangerously devastating it could be to let recruits grow on you. And maybe it was because he missed his days of training the young - but whatever the reason, it happened, and Korra grew close to his heart. She was his apprentice, and he was her mentor through and through.
The reason he was down here, banging his head against the wall, so to speak, was to find something, to uncover some secret that might help him understand what happened to his apprentice. Whereas, due to his incompetence, months turned into nothing. Just as he hadn’t been able to get from this floor to the one below, he hadn’t found any clues as to where the broken space had sent her.
‘What a mentor I am, huh? Where did I ever get the confidence to be one?’ Such dark thoughts confronted him down here, and more than once he wondered if he should plunge headlong into the lower levels and risk his life senselessly, or if he should seek out that misshapen space, as Korra’s squad members called the echoes that even he had rarely encountered in the labyrinth, and follow in her footsteps.
The matter of his surviving such a journey was not an issue. After all, the Soul Dice of Korra and Palemoon were proof that he would most likely live. Of course, there were exceptions. A few Seekers didn’t survive the journey, and some Soul Dice turned off and on with five-day accuracy. Even the dice of those two would go off from time to time, as if they had both lost their lives, only to find themselves alive again a few hours or days later.
An issue he couldn’t find an answer to with anyone in the city, and the reason to travel Sahal or Eleaden for the answers came to his mind. But the thought that he might miss something or overlook some detail while gone kept him here.
Stupid, for sure. All this was why Deckard refused to let his recruits grow on him during the Mind Wars - the pain of losing someone, whether to the blade or the mind mages.
But that was just who he was. Korra was his apprentice, part of his family, and in his books, you never leave your family. That was something he had sworn as an orphan.
Imagine his surprise and joy when he received word from San that the Soul Dice of the two had stopped spinning. Not dead, but stopped spinning - no longer lost to the Labyrinth. The beasts almost got him there, as shocked as he was.
Ever since then, he’d been rushing back along the golden magic thread to the teleportation platform he came from. Therefore, when faced with a Night Thrasher, a beast foolish enough to stand in his way, he decided to run past the fucker without a second thought. After all, even at his max speed, he was still at least an hour away from the platform.
“Wait for me, little beast. I’m coming,” the wind in his wake as he raced through the jungle blew away his whispered words of a promise he made to himself - and to her, his apprentice, his family.