Chapter 26

“I can’t find a way across,” Scorio said, hunching over his plate and stabbing fitfully at the slice of grilled steak that lay across a bed of delicate purple leaves. “The direct approach is a broad bridge that looks structurally sound, but under which passes what must be a truly powerful current of Coal mana. A huge, eyeless toad lives at the far end of the bridge, in this ruined building that’s nearly toppling into the chasm, and it’s easily the size of a cart. It’s so infused with Coal that it looks like liquid mana is constantly oozing off its body. I’ve seen it capture all kinds of prey with its tongue. They go rigid the moment they’re hit, as if its tongue paralyzes them.”

“Cart-sized toad,” said Leonis sympathetically, nodding to Lianshi as if this was a problem they encountered all the time. “Paralyzing tongue. Rough.”

“So I explored off to the radial east, just a half-dozen blocks, and discovered that area is the domain of this… I don’t even know how to describe it. It has arms and legs like a person, but is massively hunched over, with… gills? Or vents? Running down the side of its head and ribs? From which copper light burns out as if it’s venting mana. Its head is just a massive snout, no eyes that I can see, with these huge… snaggly-looking teeth. And arms that reach down to its ankles.”

“You sound really upset,” said Lianshi. “I’m sorry.”

“And it doesn’t even… I mean, I haven’t seen it actually move, anywhere. It just seems to step out of shadows when prey comes close, and then drags them into the darkness and disappears with them.” Scorio cut a chunk off the steak and held it up, scrutinizing the rich meat. “And then on the other side, if I came at the Academy from radial west, there’s a huge white worm. Thick as a tree, and at first, I thought it had human arms just randomly sticking out of its snout like whiskers, but no. Of course not. The worm’s head is actually a man’s torso.”

“A man’s torso?” asked Leonis dubiously.

Scorio set the fork down and touched a finger to each corner of his mouth. “Imagine if my mouth didn’t end here but continued in a wide arc down my chest all the way to my hips. And all of that opened to reveal a massive maw. That’s this huge worm’s head, with the man’s face forming the very tip of its… nose? I don’t know. Add with a huge tongue lolling out from its massive chest-mouth. This thing swims underground, somehow, and just erupts out of cracks and holes or makes its own to swallow prey whole.”

“How about another drink?” asked Lianshi, raising the pitcher of dawn apple juice.

“No, I’m sorry, I’m fine.” Scorio slumped. “I was just on fire with determination to get there, you know? Show Naomi that it could be done. But everywhere I look, a new obstacle appears.” He picked up his fork and examined the chunk of steak again. “I really want access to that old Academy.”

“Well,” said Leonis, glancing at Lianshi as if to make sure she was ready. “We might be able to get you access to the new one instead.”

Scorio sat up. “You can?”

Lianshi grinned, clearly relieved to be finally discussing this. “Yes. Maybe. I mean, I know we can, but it’s still only a theoretical possibility. Leonis, tell him.”

Leonis leaned over his plate, grinning like a bear. “So we’ve been pretty busy while you were out there exploring your ruins. There are archives and—what do you call private libraries?”

“Private libraries,” said Lianshi.

“Right. There are private libraries that are off-limits to us. So I pretended to knock Lianshi out during a practice bout—”

“You pretty much did,” she grumbled.

“Oh, you were fine. And she was taken to the infirmary where the physician dosed her with tomb wort and a Thousand Step pill—”

Lianshi smiled and stretched like a cat. “Very nice, by the way.”

Leonis paused to regard her. “Can’t believe Emelos gave you one of those.”

Lianshi stuck her tongue out at him. “You should try making friends some time.”

“You’re friends with Emelos?”

She relaxed contentedly, obviously pleased with herself. “Let’s just say he’d very much like to be friends with me.”

“The point being,” said Leonis loudly, “that she was left alone in the infirmary long enough to make a copy of Emelos’s key.”

Which Lianshi pulled out of her pocket. It was crudely shaped and a dark ebon in color.

“That will get us access to the basilica?” asked Scorio. “And how did you make a copy?”

Lianshi considered the key with a critical frown. “I made a clay mold, then filled it with Coal mana and compressed it. Not the best job, but it worked.” She paused as her eyes flicked up to him. “Oh. You’ve not learned how to do that yet. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to boast.”

Scorio stifled his envy. “No, of course. I… I didn’t even know that was possible. You can solidify mana?”

“Everyone can,” she said. “It’s in effect how Great Souls summon weapons like Hell Whip does hers. Or armor, or any other technique. But at our level, as Cinders, we can simply direct and shape mana into a very rough—and very small—shape, and then with some effort lock it into place.”

“The point is,” said Leonis, “we used the key to get access to a private library, and there—after evading much danger and risking our lives—”

“It wasn’t that dangerous,” said Lianshi flatly.

“—and after risking our lives,” continued Leonis even more loudly, “we found some old maps of the Academy.”

“Maps,” said Scorio. “So you now know how to get to the basilica.”

“We now know where a secret passage exits onto a balcony on the basilica’s third level,” said Leonis, sitting back with great satisfaction.

“Oh,” said Scorio. “That’s good.”

“Right?” Leonis crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “So now we just need to smuggle you into the Academy proper, access the secret tunnel, and then avoid notice as you find your locker and open it.”

Lianshi smiled tentatively. “What do you think? A working plan?”

Scorio grinned. “Thank you. Yes. I couldn’t have asked for better. But how do I get in?”

“That’s easy,” said Leonis nonchalantly. “All sorts of people enter the Academy every day to operate it. Cleaners, cooks, servants, porters, you name it. I’ll put in a request for a special delivery of—I don’t know, dawn apple juice—and give you the permission chit so that you can deliver it.”

“You can put in special requests?” asked Scorio. “Must be nice.”

“It is,” said Leonis, expression turning rueful. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’d probably be using the same system if I was in your place. So how soon can we do it?”

Lianshi’s smile was that of a particularly contented cat. “How soon can you deliver the dawn apple juice?” And she flipped a golden oct with a crimson symbol onto the table.

Scorio’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s the special request chit?”

“You think we’re going to waste any time?” Leonis’s eyes gleamed with pride and pleasure. “You dare keep a Great Soul thirsty?”

Scorio laughed and took up the chit. It was like Madam Voras’s, but heavier, somehow more imposing. “I’ll bring a pitcher immediately.”

“You’ll need to wear a hood,” said Lianshi. “Most people only caught a glimpse of you on the first day as you were led out, but we can’t take risks.”

“Agreed,” said Scorio. “Can we do this now?”

“We should wait till the night cycle.” Lianshi’s expression turned serious, almost uncertain. “I don’t know how busy the basilica is, but the odds are it’ll be quieter at night.”

“Night cycle, sure.” Scorio flipped the chit into the air and then caught it. “Where do I go?”

“You’ll want to avoid the main entrance,” said Leonis. “Come in through one of the servant arches on the southern flank. Ask around for the blue kitchen entrance. It’s where private requests are delivered, no bulk drop-offs. Then ask for directions to our quarters. We’re suite three off the Hall of Golden Reflection.”

“Suite three, Hall of Golden Reflection. Got it. Will, ah, anyone challenge me?”

Leonis shrugged one massive shoulder. “If they do, just show them the chit, claim to work from a reputable vendor, and say the order was delivered this morning. Nobody should care to challenge you further.”

“Make sure it really is dawn apple juice,” said Lianshi. “Just in case.”

“Got it.”

Lianshi put a bun to her lips. “And deliver it at Second Clay. Might be too unusual to make a delivery after dusk.”

“Makes sense.” Scorio felt as if he were trapped in a state of permanent inhalation. “I can’t believe this actually happening. Thank you.”

“Pah, don’t think anything of it,” said Leonis, waving a hand lazily though he was obviously pleased. “You’d do the same for us.”

“I would,” said Scorio firmly. “Absolutely.”

“Oh! Scorio!” Lianshi’s eyes widened as she reached down to her side pouch. “I brought something for you!” And she drew out a tiny, parchment-wrapped gift tied up with red string.

“For me?” Scorio blinked. “I—thank you, but you didn’t have to—”

“Oh, just take it,” said Leonis. “Because she’s going to insist it’s nothing, you’re going to refuse further, and we’ll be here for another ten days before you’ll accept it.”

“Fine,” said Scorio, taking the small bundle. “What is it?”

“Open it up!” Lianshi shoved the rest of the bun into her mouth and clapped her hands excitedly just beneath her chin. “I shaved it afchur I won—” She paused to chew fiercely.

Scorio untied the simple knot. The parchment unfolded to reveal a large, jade-green pill.

“It’s a Sublime Purification pill,” Lianshi said, forcing the last of the bun down with a muscular swallow. “I won it after I—doesn’t matter. But I got to pick from a selection of Minor Augmentation prizes, and I saved this one for you.”

“What does it do?” asked Scorio, turning it around, its impossibly smooth surface glimmering in the lamplight.

“Well, you’re out here processing Coal mana, right? That will coarsen and reduce your control over your mana manipulation over time. This will undo much of that damage, though the benefits will be temporary.”

Leonis looked at the pill, expression thoughtful. “Though it can also be taken at the same time as poisonous mana, and will neutralize the toxins in low-grade extracts. Which is the part I think you’d be especially excited to hear.”

Lianshi blushed. “I mean, I figured you would be roughing it beyond the Final Door and might incur damage to your Heart. It made sense to save it. And…” She paused, then flushed. “Also, it was, like, a symbol of my faith in you—or—never mind, this sounds ridiculous. If you don’t want to take this now, I thought you could keep it on hand in case you ever get in trouble.”

Scorio felt his heart swell and his face grow warm as he smiled at Lianshi, whose blush only deepened. “This is… thank you. Do you know if I could dissolve it into a tincture? Would it lose its properties?”

“I don’t know,” said Lianshi, expression going blank. “I mean, you’re not supposed to use it to ingest even greater poisons.”

Leonis’s laughter boomed off the walls. “Are you surprised, Lianshi?”

“Thank you,” said Scorio, bowing low to her from where he sat. “This really means a lot to me.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, looking away quickly. “But I’m happy you like it. It can’t be easy, out here without any resources. I plan to try and bring you something as often as I can, to help.”

Scorio beamed at her. “You’re the best. You really don’t need to.”

“That’s what I said,” protested Leonis. “Also, she’s making me look bad.”

“You don’t need any help in that department,” said Lianshi.

“So,” said Scorio, examining the pill. “Do I just drink it down with water or the like?”

“Mmhmm,” said Lianshi. “I’ve never had one, but it’s supposed to refresh you. Summon your Heart after you’ve swallowed it, and you should be able to sense its power within you. Then draw it into your Heart as you would mana, and it should do the rest.”

“Excellent.” Scorio beamed at her. “I’ll do it as soon as I get home.”

To which Lianshi just beamed back at him.

Scorio set the pill beside his plate. “Did you both learn anything more about your own pasts?”

“That’s right,” said Leonis. “You weren’t there for our own Archspire moments. Want to hear my titles?”

Lianshi set her cup back delicately. “The question is, can he stop you from repeating them all?”

“Leonis, once known as The Grim, the Golden King, Favored of Eragoth, and Wielder of Nezzar. The highest rank I ever attained was Pyre Lord—which I’m positive is wrong—and it’s been four years since I last died.” He rubbed at his bearded jaw. “I’ve been reborn a hundred and twenty times since the founding of Bastion.”

“He doesn’t die easily,” said Lianshi.

Leonis sat back, hands on his thighs, knees spread wide, at ease, smiling, relaxed. “So if you want to start calling me the Golden King—informally, of course—feel free. It’s high time I started living up to my old reputation.”

Lianshi threw a yellow rind of a fruit she’d peeled at his face, which he batted aside with ease.

“I don’t know,” said Scorio. “The Grim? That doesn’t exactly, well…”

Leonis’s wide smile collapsed into a frown. “I’ve thought on that, as well. Who knows what sort of life I lived? What I was forced to do? But… I’ve still got time to grow into it. I was clearly a man of great import. Someday soon I’ll have to start living up to that legacy.”

“Whereas I was once known as Lianshi, the Nun of the Red, Guardian of the Second Death, and Bestower of the Final Grace.”

“Impressive,” said Scorio.

“The highest rank I ever achieved was Charnel Duke, and it’s been sixteen years since I last died. I’ve been reborn ninety-seven times.”

“Only ninety-seven?” Scorio leaned forward on both elbows. “That’s rare, isn’t it?”

“Seems to be. Most of our peers fall in the same range—from about a hundred and fifty to two hundred times.”

Leonis smirked. “During the first few nights, everybody was trying to work out the math. Bastion was founded eight hundred and seventy-three years ago, right? So in my case, I’ve been reborn a hundred and twenty times. At first, everyone just divided the city’s duration by the number of rebirths, but that left out the time between reincarnations. Since that time seems to fluctuate, we took a poll and discovered that the average time between rebirths was three years. So multiply a hundred and twenty by three—three hundred and sixty—and that’s how many years I’ve spent actually dead. The balance, five hundred and thirteen, is how many of those years I’ve actually lived. Divide that by a hundred and twenty, and on average I live four or so years each time I’m reborn before dying.”

Scorio blinked. “That… you’re making a lot of assumptions there.”

Leonis shrugged one shoulder. “Just averages. And a way to pass the time.”

“Whereas I average about six years of life before dying,” said Lianshi. “Still a dismal number.”

Scorio frowned. “But what of those like Praximar? They look much older.”

“Life was much tougher in the beginning,” said Leonis. “Bastion was constantly besieged by the fiends we came here to fight. New incarnates like ourselves would be placed on the walls within months of being reborn, if not sooner. The attrition rate was terrible. Over time, the demons were driven back, and now we Great Souls tend to live much longer, with the best or most fortunate of us making an actual drive for the Pit. So no, the averages don’t tell us much. Hasn’t stopped people from trying to wrest meaning from them.”

“The Pit,” said Scorio softly. “That’s where the fiends come from?”

“Supposedly,” said Leonis. “The source of all mana. Only Imperators can survive the Curse that surrounds it. The goal is to enter it and destroy our enemies at their source, forever ending the war and becoming the Infernarch.”

“And that will open the Portal home?” asked Scorio.

Lianshi shrugged uneasily. “That’s what folks say the Infernarch will do.”

“But since the Empyreal Prophecy failed,” said Lianshi, her tone hesitant. “A lot of folks are doubting a lot of old truths.”

They sat in silence for a spell.

“But that’s why we’re here in the first place, right?” Scorio looked from one of his friends to the other. “The reason we tied our souls to the Archspire. To protect our homeworld?”

“Right,” said Leonis softly. “We were heroes back home. We fought and beat the demons back to protect our people. And then we agreed to defend Bastion for eternity to make sure the demons never, ever came back to wage war on our home again.”

Scorio nodded slowly, mulling this over. “Leonis the Golden King. Lianshi the Nun of the Red. Scorio the Bringer of Ash and Darkness.”

“Guess they weren’t being too choosy,” said Leonis with a humorless smile.

“Or perhaps we all stopped being enemies once the demons arrived, and fought together to defeat them,” said Lianshi.

Scorio continued to mull this over. “And nobody ever figured out why the portal home closed.”

Leonis spread his hands. “Just theories. No facts.”

“But the hope,” said Lianshi quietly, “is that by someone destroying the Pit and ending the war, they’ll become the Infernarch and the Portal will open.”

“And our souls will be unbound from the Archspire?” asked Scorio.

“That’s the hope,” said Leonis.

“Which is why we fight,” continued Lianshi. “To bring peace and an end to Bastion. To go home.”

“It’s a worthy cause,” said Scorio at last.

“It’s why we’re trained to focus our sights on Imperator.” Leonis sighed. “Though vanishingly few have the motivation, talent, and fortune to get that far. Only they can take the fight to the enemy in their home. Everyone else, from Crimson Earl down, is basically supporting that fight.”

Lianshi spoke with quiet conviction. “I made Charnel Duke once. This time, perhaps I’ll go all the way.”

“Whereas I, apparently, will settle down and open a bakery upon making Pyre Lord again.” Leonis grinned. “It seems my ambitions have been more easily settled than most in the past.”

Lianshi sat up straight. “But first we need to make it to Emberling. Speaking of which, we need to get back. Scorio—see you at dusk?”

“You can count on it.” He rose to his feet, sliding the golden chit into his robe. “Thank you again. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Ah, don’t mention it.” Leonis rose heavily. “It’s good to get out and see you. And who doesn’t want to get involved with a little nefarious skullduggery now and again?”

“That’s not quite how I’d put it,” said Lianshi with a quiet smile, “but yes. You’re welcome.”

They stepped out of the restaurant, and back into the early Second Bronze light. The air was rich and muggy, and wisps of cloud were burning off in the sky above them as they curved up toward the bright early afternoon sun-wire.

“Until dusk then,” said Leonis. “Find yourself a hood.”

“I hope this brings you answers,” said Lianshi with a quick hug. “See you soon.”

Scorio watched them go, hand raised, and when they turned the corner and left his line of sight, he stepped over to one side of the courtyard to sit on a plain bench. Taking the golden chit back out, he turned it over and over between his fingers.

What would he find in his locker? Leonis’s talk of averages had provoked a question he’d dared not ask: why had he only been reborn six times? Why had it been over two hundred and thirty-three years since he’d last been reborn?

With a little luck, he’d find out that night.