My mouth works silently, words snatched away by shock.

I've read everything there is to read about Grailhold and its history, and nowhere have I ever seen or heard mention of the existence of such a place.

At last, I find my voice. Sentences, however, still elude me.

"What...I—how?"

"Answers later, actions now," says Aunt Ula, squeezing my shoulder before both she and my mother wrap me in a hug. Then my aunt steps away while Jezben holds me at arms length, one hand squeezing each of my shoulders.

"Your guards go with you, but they will only interfere if they absolutely must to save your life. They will do nothing else to help you advance."

"A-alright," I stammer. She smiles, tears at the corners of her eyes as she swoops in to kiss my forehead. Then she releases me and steps back.

"Do your best," adds Aunt Ula. Fortunately, I don't have time to respond. She and my mother hurry off, joining the ranks of those headed to the side—taking a stair upward to the tiered levels overlooking the huge sunken space.

Then Thrall and Pash are gently urging me forward and onto a lift with a crowd of others to descend into the tangled unknown.

~*~

Birds and bats swoop overhead, the ahkanas of Vishkan delegates—lending their eyes for closer observance. We're crowded tightly together down here, and everyone's speaking in a nervous hush. Vine draped walls rise high to all sides of us, glinting in the dim light in places where a rime of quartz or salt crystals crust their surface.

Six arched openings, evenly spaced, provide exits into areas too shadowy to see much of. Tentatively-and with no instructions whatsoever forthcoming-some of the Heirs begin to move towards them. At the back of the crowd and still with no room to move, I can do little more than wait and observe.

From off to my right, someone screams.

I practically sprain my neck as my attention snaps in the direction of the sound. A few Heirs are stumbling backwards, their guards moving aside swiftly to make room for them.

Something's emerging from the darkness beyond the arch.

The crowd presses back, and I fight sudden panic as my personal space is quickly reduced to nothing.

Short as I am, I can barely see over anyone's heads. But the thing is moving into the light, and it's big enough that the upper half of it is visible even to me.

A beast of beaten metal, twice and half again the height of a person. I can't make out quite what it is, but the peaked arch of its back and the stylized crest that lines it make me think of a boar. It reminds me of something, and at first I'm not sure what. Then an image of Kai's hand flashes across my mind. More Kolikai technology? Is to new, or from before they left? There's a loud scraping sound, its shoulders working, and then it surges forward. Then more shrieking as people press back and scatter—fleeing to the other shadowy exits.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

My muscles coil, and I'm about to do the same when my eye catches on someone I recognize.

Rhetrien, resplendent in black finery—boots, pants, laced tunic and sleeve—with the occasional accent of white.

They're not budging. Their attention is fixed on the boar-thing. Or perhaps on the exit beyond it.

Oh.

It would make sense, wouldn't it...if the most ideal route was the one that was blocked?

I hesitate before coming back to myself with a start.

You're not trying to win this, remember? The last thing you want to is come out of it bonded to an Artifact. Aim for unremarkable.

I dash off towards the exit furthest from the one the mechanical monster came from, doing nothing to hide my panic, even exaggerating it a little. As I push past other Heirs and their guards, I find myself fighting the urge to reach across the Web and nudge some of them out of the way, clear the path ahead. But I catch myself in the thought, horrified again by my own impulses.

Only a handful opt for the farthest opening, most of the others grouping together. I slide into the uncertain safety of the hall beyond, panting already. My guardians follow, the other Heirs already far ahead of me and no others behind. I take a deep breath.

Just stay calm. That's all I have to do. Just stay calm and keep moving until it's over.

Meandering slowly down the darkened corridor, my eyes wander as they begin to adjust. Moss and lichen and little clusters of shells like barnacles cling to the stone of the walls, faintly luminescent snails leaving slimy tracks of light as they rove over it all.

Something crunches beneath my foot, my lips parting in surprise as I lift it away to reveal the cracked, dusty skeleton of a fish.

What the—?

Suddenly the ceiling close overhead is making me uncomfortable. I pick up my pace.

"Oy!" Someone shouts. I look up to see a billowing form charging towards me down the hall. "Nikessa, yes?"

She slows as she draws near, the pale patchwork of her cloak wrapping and flowing about her form.

Howla Vash, an heir of Ariskol, and one of no relation to me whatsoever.

Her guards stay a ways back from her as mine do from me—trying to act as though they aren't there.

At the rooftop gathering, she'd been intimidating, full of bombastic energy and charisma. One of the few who'd seemed unbothered by me. I'd even sketched her. A tall woman just a little older than me with short white hair that contrasts strikingly with the brown of her skin, she wears a patch set with a large opal over her missing eye. On top of that, her arms are covered from wrist-to-shoulder in a tracery of ornate tattoos. A subject too tempting to resist.

She also happens to own a bonechrys blade, but I'm disappointed when I glance to her waist to find it missing.

"Y-yes," I manage to answer, but only after realizing I've been staring at her for longer than the average person would consider polite.

"Any clockwork creatures down this way? Screams or cries of agony?"

"Not that I've seen or heard, yet," I say hesitantly, reaching out with my Other Sense. But the boar-creature hadn't been visible to me on the Web, and if anything like it awaits ahead in the darkness, I'll likely be just as blind to it.

I do sense something, though. Something other than Heirs and their guards. Something warm and vibrant and interesting.

"Beautiful," says Howla, disrupting my sudden fixation as she falls into step beside me. "Where's your little deer?" She asks after a moment, side-eyeing me with a small smile.

"Heirs aren't allowed to bring akhanas into the Revelries," I say, shrugging.

"I'm jealous of you Vishkans," she drawls. "Wish I could have some little creature-friend to share my mind with. I'd want a sky-skate, perhaps. Or an otter."

"It only works with certain types of animals," I say. "The Sacred Beasts."

"Just so. But if I could have anything—"

Her words are cut short as something whips around the corner of an unseen exit in the hall ahead of us, hissing as it coils its long, limbless metal body to fill the corridor, blocking the path ahead. Cursing, I step backward—only to jump at the unexpected splash as my foot meets the ground. I look down to find water pooling around my feet. Welling up from narrow grates at intervals where the walls meet the floor.

I look back the way we came just as a heavy stone slab slides down from the ceiling, blocking our path.