"So that thing is a gardener?" asked Meadow. The group had left it behind, passing through another rubble-strewn hallway where Arlen moved stones aside at Sachin's direction.

Arlen wasn't sure how much to explain. "It sounded like terrible things happened here once, but the gardener was trying to learn new ways to make things. Some were dangerous."

He explored deeper into the more intact part of the sunken base. Some of it seemed designed to be down here and secure against the swampy terrain. There was a large room full of thick stone cylinders connected to pipes. Markings in the octagonal Builder script stood out on some of the control dials, but he'd been given access only to the spoken language. It'd be a treasure in its own right to have Sachin translate even a few phrases. That could come after earning more of his trust.

The guard who'd followed him said, "Will you really be able to fix the island?"

"My guess is that it'll take a long time to fix completely. But we can stop it from getting worse, so that the next generation of Mirefolk will be less, ah..."

"Crazy?"

"Yeah."

In a corner of the cylinder room lay three skeletons with bits of ruined clothing. Two of them had obvious tailbones. Meadow crouched to examine them. "Our people worked here?"

"Sachin seemed to think natives were allowed in, with a Builder in charge."

"To do what, though? Garden?"

"Maybe." Arlen didn't voice his full theory. Sachin had been making poisons to kill his people's enemies. But given the specific effects the Mire's chemicals had on the locals, maybe the feral mutation was the intentional result of another experiment. The dead duo here couldn't be identified as clearly normal or not.

Delving deeper, they reached a stairway that had shattered. Rusty metal and stone gave way to a wide, deep octagonal pit with a waterfall beside the stairs. The flow looked no worse than the swamp above, but the depths below had an acid reek that stung Arlen's eyes. Ripples stirred in the darkness.

Arlen said, "I might have more resistance to whatever the poison is, than you do. Can't blame you if you want to hang back."

"As opposed to jumping down?" asked the guard. "Oh, right."

Arlen grinned. He began reshaping the nearest wall to create a stronger, more complete staircase to step onto. "Going to need a better view of whatever's down here, and we're definitely not lighting a fire. The air might burn."

Though the guard had been mostly quiet, having no context at all for understanding what he saw in this place, he finally stamped the ground and said, "What do you know, Arlen? Are you really one of the Builders? You can talk gibberish to whatever that monster was. You have more power than the oldest shamans. And what you did on the battlefield! Have you come to set the old masters back in place over us?"

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Arlen paused in his casting of the slow spell that made tons of rock groan and stretch along the ruins. "I'm not a Builder. I come from a land with a few things in common with them. Why I'm here, I don't know, but I'm choosing to act like I've been given a gift and should repay it by helping the islanders."

Meadow said, "I figure that he was chosen by the spirits to fix things. They spoke to me a little, but didn't say it outright."

The guard said, "If they're so willing to speak to you, why not make their meaning plain to us all?"

Arlen shook his head and gently proposed a new idea. "It's possible that there's some force beyond even the spirits."

He went back to work, gradually descending. He stretched a wide, arched catwalk across the cavernous room. Now and then he and Meadow created small spells just to shed light on the walls. She was the first to spot the gaping crack low along one wall.

"That might be part of the problem. Though the waterfall will overflow if I seal that." He stroked his chin, thinking about the layout of the whole building.

Some eel-like creature stirred in the depths. Then a fanged maw appeared below it and swallowed it whole. A yellow eye seemed to peer at Arlen.

Then it leaped onto shallow portions of the tainted pool and bellowed, sending up a spray of water. Squat, slimy body, four legs, three eyes.

Arlen flung a blade of stone toward its gullet, but a barbed tongue whipped out and yanked it down. It spat the thing out.

Everyone backed off. Meadow's contribution was a breeze to keep the biggest splashes away. Some of the scent still reached Arlen.

"Let's try the usual way," he said, and urged the ground beneath the toad-like beast to kill it. Spikes jabbed its underbelly. The creature belched and looked down in confusion. It leaped to free itself. Arlen gauged where it'd land, and prepared. Instead, that tongue stretched so far in mid-hop that it raked along him, gashing his side and clattering along his armor.

"Nicked it!" said the guard, showing off dark blood on his sword.

Arlen hissed and nodded. Could that thing get all the way up here to the walkway? Probably not. He stared at a point above the thing and made the wall extend. It must've heard the rumbling because it darted away from that spot, down into the water.

Meadow said, "If we're lucky it'll keep away,"

It lashed its tongue at the walkway, cleaving rubble from the thin new stone. The warrior slashed down at it and pinned the spiked muscle, straining. "Chop it or something!"

Arlen had a better idea. While the toad struggled, he raised pillars around its body as quickly as he could. Faster than the usual shaping, thicker than his attack spikes. Its attention was on the struggle above its head. Meadow tried to stab the big tongue too but only got purchase for a moment. Then it yanked free and both of them staggered. The swordsman shoved Meadow toward safety. She reeled backward and caught the old rusty stairs, which creaked.

Arlen strengthened the cage bars he'd just created. The beast began to react by bashing against them, cracking the stone. Its tongue battered but could build up little momentum. He added more and more mass to the barrier. Outraged belching sounds echoed through the room and spread its rotten stink.

Meadow said, "Can it still get us?"

"I don't trust those bars. Wait." Arlen kept hemming it in till only a space around its eyes was visible. "Probably best to seal it up and let it starve. Might take weeks."

The swordsman objected, "That's a terrible death."

Arlen frowned. "I guess you're right. Want to finish it faster?" He began forging a path down toward the cage, mentally probing at the stonework to make sure it wasn't about to shatter from its continued thrashing.