Chapter 30

The next Eighthday finally arrived, and Scorio left his room before First Clay dawned to take a torturously long and circuitous route to their agreed-upon rendezvous spot. He jogged most of the way to burn off some of his nervous energy, slowing only to indulge in mana retention exercises which he soon found himself too impatient to excel at. Each time he started to find a measure of equilibrium his thoughts would stray to what they were about to attempt this day cycle, and his mana would spill out of his heart like water from an elbowed cup.

He arrived too early and found a recessed doorway in which to wait. Watching as the bloody light of First Clay finally gave way to First Bronze, he forced himself to breathe slowly, trying again and again to focus on the ambient mana, relishing the faint wisps of Copper that he sensed streaming through the air. Thin, obviously, with no great regenerative rate, but still more potent and pliable than that which he was used to. Eyes narrowed, he focused on nudging the wisps toward his Heart, guiding them as one might eels slipping through a pond, the touches of his paddle gentle, cautious.

The copper mana felt smooth to the touch, lithe somehow, limber. Where Coal was a great and static mass, a crunchy cloud that reluctantly obeyed the force of his will, the copper was almost too supple, slippery to the point of infuriating. Each sliver he pulled into his Heart felt alive and vital, swirling about within the obsidian confines as if seeking a way out.

So involved did he become in the analysis that he didn’t see his friends approach; one moment he was staring blankly out into the alleyway from his doorway, the next they were both there, both of them freshly scrubbed, hair still damp, wearing sturdy combat robes with reinforced patches neatly sewed onto their elbows and knees.

“Scorio?” Lianshi bent her head down to enter his line of sight and gave him a little wave. “You there?”

He blinked and smiled self-consciously at them. “Hey, good morning. You made it.”

“We did,” said Leonis, hands on his hips, standing in the alleyway as if it were his private quarters, at ease and confident. “You think we’d be late? We’ve been looking forward to this.”

“A chance to test what we’ve learned,” agreed Lianshi. “To put into practice what has been only theory and training.”

“You’ll get your chance,” said Scorio, glancing both ways before stepping out of the doorway and pulling down his hood. “Let’s get going.”

“Are you all right?” Lianshi fell in companionably beside him. “You look…”

“Nervous,” completed Leonis.

“Maybe just a little.” Scorio led them south along the avenue, staying to one side. “Just trying to avoid attention. There’s a lady looking to have a word with me.”

“A lady, hey?” Leonis grinned. “I see you haven’t just been training out here. Must be nice, to not be supervised at all hours.”

“No,” laughed Scorio. “No, nothing like that. The thought of me and Dola… no. No no no. She runs a team of… how to put it? Mercenaries, I guess. A criminal ring that helps the Houses acquire goods from each other indirectly.”

He could feel both of their stares.

“What? Oh—right. You’ve probably not been told.” And he spent most of the walk south toward the ruins telling them what he’d learned, how the Houses employed teams to steal from each other, which naturally led to his explaining how he’d become involved, who Dola was, and why he’d finally chosen to run away with the sapphire vials.

“Sapphire vials?” Leonis let out a low whistle. “I can understand your motivation. The most powerful Great Souls in Bastion need that kind of quality mana or lose their power. Someone very important must have become very upset when their shipment failed to materialize.”

“So now she’s looking for you?” Lianshi glanced about uneasily. They’d left the nicer wards behind, and were now moving through Ward 4, which was a few wards rotated around from his own immediate ward. Still, it felt as familiar as Ward 1; the buildings were run down, the streets crisscrossed by drying laundry, the paint faded, the promise of the encroaching ruins just a breath away.

“Yes. But that’s nothing for you both to be concerned with. Let’s just get into the ruins.” Scorio picked up the pace. The farther south they’d come, the more Lianshi and Leonis had stood out, their robes spotless, their fresh faces speaking of good food and privilege.

The ruins reared up before them at last, and to Scorio it felt like coming home; the blasted buildings, the hollow windows like gauged-out eyes, the streets strewn with rubble and chips of stone, the omnipresent and brutal gray.

His companions both slowed as they walked their first block, Lianshi leaping aside as a large piece of slate cracked apart under her foot.

“Incredible,” breathed Leonis, trying to take it all in at once. “I’ve seen the ruins overhead from the Academy, but they’ve always felt so abstract. More a distant threat than a reality. And you live out here?”

“It’s not so bad,” said Scorio. “There’s beauty to be found. Its own strange ecology. Come on, we’ve got to cut radial to get back to my own area. Then we’ll strike south. Just wait till you see some of the wildlife.”

Scorio found himself taking an almost proprietary pleasure in showing his friends the hidden wonders of the ruins; led them down rough streets whose walls were covered in dormant mollusks; showed them avenues down which thick, redolent rivers of Coal mana poured like treacle; the numerous mana traps set out by enterprising harvesters; chasms that plunged down into the dark depths.

“And this is with us hugging the border next to Bastion. Wait till we strike in deeper,” said Scorio, glancing up and gauging how far they’d come. “Actually, we can turn inwards now. Remember, the deeper we go, the more dangerous it becomes.”

The other two followed in silence, taking everything in, moving with admirable silence as he led them down a familiar street. He felt a combination of pleasure and strangeness to be walking along the broken sidewalk with his friends in tow.

“What’s that?” whispered Lianshi, dropping to a crouch and staring down a side street in awe.

Scorio stepped back, looked down the street, and saw a medium-sized nautilus floating a few feet above the pavement, its black shell raggedly striped with crimson, its tentacles floating out behind it, drinking in the mana.

“Amazing, right?” Scorio grinned at them. “I’ve never gotten close enough to see if they’re dangerous, but they’re pretty rare. You’re lucky to see one on your first outing.”

“It’s flying,” said Leonis.

“Kind of.” Scorio watched the graceful and alien creature slowly approach. “I don’t think it has too much control over where it goes. They tend to just drift with the mana.”

“It’s so large,” said Lianshi. “So beautiful. I’d no idea something like this was out here.”

“Medium-sized,” corrected Scorio. “I once saw one that was easily seven or so yards in diameter. Drained the entire street of mana as it went.”

Leonis just shook his head in wonder.

They continued deeper into the ruins, Scorio guiding them around the worst threats and avoiding the dangerous zones until at last First Rust gave away to the brighter, brassier First Bronze, and he slowed, dropping into a crouch behind a rooftop’s jagged retaining wall.

The other two did the same and peered at the final stretch of ruined blocks that lay before the Portal wall.

“There’s the old academy, see?” Scorio nodded ahead, not needing to point; the vast building was obvious, as was the stretch of hellish urban landscape between them.

“Strange,” said Leonis. “It looks like a nightmare version of our own.”

Lianshi curled her fingers around her ear reflexively, as if tucking away a strand, though none had escaped her thick braid. “Amazing. To think that was once vibrant and filled with life. It looks like a mausoleum.”

“The trick will be getting there.” Scorio shifted his weight and pointed. “See that broad bridge that flies straight like an arrow toward the Academy? That mass of rocks at its far end on the right is where the black toad lives. Now, west over that way, see that series of shattered gray fields? That’s actually a covered market of some kind, I think. The white worm monster lives inside it. And to the east, that way? Those towering buildings, all pressed tightly together? That’s where I’ve seen that strange shadow-jumping fiend.”

“We’ve spoken endlessly about it,” said Leonis. “We want to tackle the toad.”

Lianshi nodded firmly, though her face had grown pale. “The shadow beast sounds the worst—its ability to appear and disappear will be extremely hard to counter. The white worm sounds both disgusting and benefits to a degree from the same ability to surprise us.”

“But the toad,” said Leonis, shifting his weight. “You described it as oozing tar-like Coal mana, right?”

“Right,” said Scorio. “What of it?”

“I spoke with Feng, one of our trainers. He’s an expert on fiends.” Leonis turned to sit, putting his back to the retaining wall. “When a fiend’s oozing mana like that, it means they’re an engorger; they’ll find a truly deep well of their mana type and just float in it, like a fish in water, till their very substance becomes infused. You’ve heard how we can cannibalize our own Hearts in time of great need for power?”

“And how we shouldn’t,” said Scorio.

“Right. Engorgers can do the same. They can fuel their powers with their own, hyper-infused substance. They basically don’t run out of power.”

Scorio nodded slowly. “And this helps us how?”

Leonis grinned. “They’re walking reservoirs of mana. Which means a hungry Great Soul can draw on them as if they were an ambient cloud. It’s harder, but theoretically, we could drain him dry from a distance.”

“At the very least weaken him,” said Lianshi. “I doubt the three of us combined have the capacity to destroy him.”

“Wait.” Scorio licked his lower lip, thoughts tumbling. “Have you ever done this before?”

“Nope,” said Leonis, clearly excited.

“It can’t be as easy as harvesting ambient mana. And that’s something I—well.” Scorio bit back his pride. “I’m working on it.”

Leonis smiled, eyes disappearing as laugh lines radiated out broadly from their corners. “Don’t worry. We’ve got some practice between us, Lianshi and I. Here’s the plan. You’ll walk down the bridge. Draw it out. We’ll climb along the underside, out of sight. When it appears, we’ll drain it, you finish it off.”

“It’s a terrible plan,” apologized Lianshi.

“It does sound… risky.” Scorio sat back on his heels. “Its tongue paralyzes its prey.”

“We’ll disrupt the effect with our draining,” said Leonis.

“I’ve a less glamorous but safer idea,” said Lianshi. “We wait for some natural prey to stumble along, and when the toad attacks, so do we. Drain from a distance, and then close and kill it.”

“A worthy plan,” said Leonis in a dismissive tone, “but Scorio, tell us if you will: how often does prey come across this area?”

“Not often,” said Scorio. “I’ve seen it strike twice over the course of several days.”

Leonis gave Lianshi a fake smile. “Alas.”

“This is what I’m thinking,” said Scorio. He’d been mulling this plan over in his mind over the course of the past Eighthday, examining it from every angle as he trained. “You two cross over the narrow part of the chasm to the west over there with my bridge.” And here he took it out from within his robes and balanced it on his palm. “That promontory is far enough away that it shouldn’t attract the toad, but you’d best move quick not to draw the shadow beast. You’ll then make your way back being careful to not be seen. Meanwhile, I’ll cross the bridge—”

Leonis nodded approvingly.

“—and I’ll have my chalk handy.” He drew it out next. It was down to a quarter of its original length, and the thought of losing it gave Scorio a pang of mild panic. “When the toad emerges, I’ll draw a line before me to block its tongue attack. That’s got to use up some of its mana reserves. Once the attack is foiled, I’ll slip around the invisible wall and wait for its second attack, and block that. I’ll keep blocking till it gives up, by which point it will hopefully be partially drained already. Originally, I’d thought you both could attack it from behind, but perhaps that’s when you can launch your drain attack.”

Both were nodding slowly.

“I like it,” said Lianshi. “We weaken it, drain it further, and then when we’re ready we all close in for the kill.”

“Feng said engorged fiends are very advanced, and can be quite intelligent,” warned Leonis. “So don’t underestimate it.”

“Then maybe we’ll drive it off,” said Lianshi. “That would be even better. If it’s smart enough to know it’s been outwitted, it might just flee.”

“Feng also said that engorged fiends have incredibly rich heartstones. So if we do kill it, we’ll profit greatly.”

“Heartstone?” asked Scorio.

“The focal point of their powers,” said Leonis in a business-like tone. “The more powerful the beast, the more potent the heartstone, and the more mana or derivatives that can be extracted from it via alchemy. Heartstones form the basis of most elixir and pill creation, as well as being the foundation of mana traps.”

“Got it,” thought Scorio, thinking the kitursk heartstone he had back in his chamber. “Interesting. Are they valuable?”

“Can be,” said Leonis. “Depends on the Heartstone. But sure. I mean, the Academy has to get its pills and treasures from somewhere, right? And those folks have to have the resources to make them.”

“Right,” said Scorio, rubbing pensively at his jaw. “Right.”

“So,” said Lianshi, rubbing her palms nervously on her thighs. “Is that the plan? We cross with your bridge, you wait for us to signal you, then you cross in turn?”

“At what range can you begin draining?” asked Scorio.

Leonis frowned. “About ten yards? We’ll have to get in very close. Best if you distract it before we move in.”

Ten yards. Scorio could barely sense his iron bar at three. But he bit back his bitterness and nodded decisively. “Sounds like a plan to me. You both ready?”

Leonis held out his hand for the bridge, then examined it, turning it about. “This is a potent treasure. You really lucked out in finding that corpse in the caverns.”

“I know it,” said Scorio softly. “I still mean to honor Radert at some point. Without his treasures, I’d have died down there.”

“Lucky for us all you didn’t,” said Lianshi. “Let’s get moving. Good luck!”

“Good luck!” said Scorio back, and her smile was bright and hopeful as she gave a small wave and scooted off down the length of the retaining wall toward a western drop-off point.

“Play it safe,” said Leonis, giving him a light punch in the shoulder, and then he, too, hurried off, bent over nearly double behind the wall.

He watched as they scaled down the building, made their way carefully a good two blocks west, losing sight of them intermittently, then saw Leonis creep out onto the jutting outcropping and activate the bridge.

Scorio had to stifle a laugh when both Leonis and Lianshi jerked in surprise as the bridge exploded forth, extending out over the fiery gorge at a steep angle and then dropping down to lie solidly across the chasm.

The two Great Souls wasted no time, however, and raced across, collecting the bridge when it retracted, going to ground amongst the distant ruins.

His turn.

Scorio slid and hopped, jumped from rock to ledge, until he reached the fragmented avenue that culminated in the broad bridge.

Nothing moved. First Bronze was still bright all around them, the shadows attenuated, the light bright and syrupy.

Taking a deep breath, Scorio began to stride toward the bridge, chalk in hand. The toad struck with terrible speed—he’d have to be ready to scrawl his line the moment it appeared, because by the time he saw it the tongue would already be hurtling toward him.

Scorio stepped onto the bridge and paused. His skin goosebumped with nerves. Were his friends in place? Was he timing it right?

No way to know but to proceed.

Moving carefully, not wanting to look too brazen, he made his way across. The bridge was easily five or six yards wide, a massive stretch of rock without guard rails or any distinguishing features. Just a broad expanse of gray, cracked stone that extended over the roiling furnace-like depths below.

He kept his gaze fixed on the demolished house at the far end of the bridge. Was that movement? No. Or—no. Not yet.

He was about halfway when the toad appeared. One moment the landscape was desolate, and then it was there, having hopped up onto a rough-edged boulder, facing him with all the stillness of an eerie statue, massive and malevolent.

Its back and legs were black as the densest shadows, Coal mana oozing off it like thick oil onto the boulder. Its stomach and the soft underside of its jaw however were a lighter gray, the skin dusty and textured like that of an old man.

But its face. Its brows above each blank hollow where an eye should have been extended up into sharp ridges that were almost horns, and there was a depth of intelligence to the cast of its impossibly broad mouth that made Scorio think it was smiling, smirking, perhaps, pleased with itself and contemptuous of the world.

All this he registered in a fraction of a second, and then he was down on one knee, ripping the chalk across the rock as a sense of motion hurtled at him, a dark cloud, a burst of violence.

A second later a large, oily black cushion spludged against the invisible wall thrown up by the chalk-line, compressing and wiggling just a foot from Scorio’s face, spattering gray mucus to the sides as he felt an explosion of Coal mana.

Reflex kicked in, and Scorio fell back on his ass as he jerked away, just as the tongue retracted, shooting back into the toad’s gaping maw with impossible speed.

It shifted in annoyance upon its boulder, as if seeking a better stance to compensate for its failure.

Scorio waited, expecting his friends to begin their assault, and then remembered he was meant to draw out as many tongue strikes as he could. Summoning his courage, he rose, stepped around the invisible wall, and began striding toward the toad once more, chalk held at the ready.

It ceased its fractional adjustments, and then once more launched its tongue, the strike almost too quick for Scorio even though he was prepared. Even so, he barely got a foot of chalk drawn out before the tongue impacted, spattering him with gluey mucus and another wash of Coal.

The goo was gray and impossibly sticky; his robes immediately congealed and held together wherever dollops sprayed him, and he resisted the urge to wipe a wet mass off his chin for fear that his sleeve would stick to his face.

Taking another deep breath, he hurried around the barrier, chalk hand trembling with anticipation. The toad moved its bulk back a little, wiggling from side to side as if unsure, and then instead of attacking again it hopped down and off the rock.

Immediately Scorio sensed the Coal mana in the air begin to swirl, and saw thick, black vapor begin to stream from the toad’s form toward where his friends were no doubt hidden behind a screen of fallen rocks.

Scorio broke into a run, pounding across the rest of the bridge as the toad oriented itself on Leonis and Lianshi. Its form was lightening, the loss of the black smoke causing the dense darkness of its back and limbs to pale.

But then, before Scorio could draw mana into his Heart, it opened its mouth and inhaled.

All the Coal mana in the air rushed toward it in a roar, draining the air in seconds, a vast and powerful inhalation that caused its cheeks to balloon out grotesquely even as its hide turned jet once more.

Scorio staggered, almost lost his balance, the paddle of his will suddenly finding nothing to work on. The immediate area had been completely scoured of mana.

Leonis and Lianshi’s burst out of hiding, each running in an opposite direction as they abandoned their cover, and the toad edged first one way then the other, picking a target.

“Hey,” shouted Scorio, racing forward, trying to close the distance, waving his arms as he went. “Look at me! Hey, toad head, look at me!”

His friends weren’t moving with the alacrity of ignited Hearts; they’d lost whatever mana they’d built up.

As such, Leonis was unable to duck when the toad finally gulped down all the drained mana, opened its mouth, and hit him with its elongated tongue, slamming the oily, mucus-covered tip into his side, engulfing his arm and hip.

“No!” Lianshi cut back from the angle she’d been running to intercept, but she’d gone out too wide.

Leonis went stiff, eyes bulging, and the tongue retracted, hauling him through the air as if he were little more than an insect.

Scorio dug the steel rod out from his robes, took three lunging steps, and leaped at the expanse of tongue right before him.

And as he flew forward, he reached out with his will, yearned to find some wisp of Coal, the faintest hint of power.

There—already the mana was regenerating, the locale so rich in power that it had attracted the toad in the first place. A few wisps, just enough for him to desperately swirl them about his Heart as he came crashing down upon the tongue, and stabbed the rod into its glistening gray expanse, pinning it to the ground.

In that very moment, he swept mana into the treasure and felt it lock into place.

The toad let out a panicked Uarghp! sound as it strained back, yanking at its tongue, and then Lianshi was by Leonis’s side, grabbing his free arm and trying to haul him free.

“Stop!” shouted Scorio, pulling forth his knife and placing its edge across the taut skin of the tongue. “Release my friend or I’ll cut straight through!”

The toad ceased its backpedaling, its chest heaving, the ropey muscles along its large limbs straining. Oriented its blind face toward him and Scorio felt the cone of its attention fall upon him like a mantle.

“Release my friend,” said Scorio deliberately, climbing up to his knees and then standing. “I’m going to count to three—”

“Can’t,” said the toad awkwardly around its outstretched tongue. Its voice was gravelly and low, just shy of a croak.

Scorio froze. “So you can speak.”

Coal mana was slowly trickling into the air as it regenerated, and Scorio felt a blaze of pressure from Lianshi. She must have ignited her Heart. With a cry that was half-panic, half-outrage, she tore Leonis off the tongue, long strands of gluey ooze stretching in thick ropes from him to the great blob at the end of the tongue as it dropped to the ground.

Thinking quickly, Scorio swept more Coal mana about his Heart, but instead of igniting he restored the quickly expended amount within the rod, renewing its duration.

“Make leal,” croaked the toad, edging closer to remove some of the strain.

“Leal?” Scorio hesitated, knife still pressed firmly to the tongue.

“Wileathe tongue and I go,” it responded, taking another few steps closer.

Scorio glanced at Lianshi, but she had Leonis propped up on her lap, his expression still dazed, eyes staring unblinkingly at nothing.

“How can I trust you?” It felt like a stupid question to ask, but nothing else came to mind.

“Thwear it,” croaked the toad, tone growing increasingly distressed. “Thwear on heartthtone.”

Again Scorio swept Coal into the rod. He rippled his fingers on the handle of the blade. If the creature was lying to him, it’d attack the moment he withdrew the rod. But with Leonis down and it able to drain the air of mana, how much of a fight could they put up against it anyway?

And something about its tone. The anxious way it was waddling forward, hesitant, half-panicked.

“Fine,” said Scorio, taking hold of the rod. “I’ll hold you to your oath.” And when the rod’s mana burned away, he pulled it up and back.

The toad’s tongue shot back into its maw, its lips sealed tightly, and its soft throat worked several times as if it were swallowing or working its tongue about.

Breathing heavily, Scorio watched it, chalk held at the ready.

But then the huge toad turned slowly, tensed, and leaped away, its leap carrying it completely over the tumbled house of fallen blocks, to fall out of sight on the far side.

“Leonis?” asked Scorio, hurrying to where Lianshi was pouring water over the large man’s face.

“Why’s it always got to be me that falls first?” murmured Leonis, blinking his eyes in a daze.

“He’s fine,” said Lianshi. “Let’s get him up and out of the open.”

“Agreed,” said Scorio, and together they led him, stumbling and dragging his feet, into the closest building.

Again Lianshi poured some water over Leonis’s face, and he reached up with clumsy hands to wipe it away.

“I’m all right,” he said, voice still thick. “Feeling’s coming back quick.”

“Talk about quick,” said Lianshi, “that was some good thinking out there with your steel rod.”

“Thanks,” said Scorio, still feeling jumpy and on edge. He moved to the doorway and peered out over the street. “No sign of the toad. You think it’ll honor its oath?”

Lianshi shrugged one shoulder. “We should move before we’re forced to find out.”

“I’m ready,” said Leonis, struggling to his feet. “Aurgh. That was disgusting.” He studied his slime-saturated robes and grimaced. “What a tragedy. Let’s go.”

They emerged cautiously from the building and examined the immediate environs. There was no sign of the toad. After careful scrutiny, Scorio led the way, moving at a lope along the catastrophized street till it gave way to another gulf, upon which they scrambled up onto a rough rubble-strewn field of a rooftop. He darted from boulder to eroded spire, up onto ledges and along the facades of gutted towers, till at last, they dropped back down before the Academy itself.

It loomed above them, dour and forbidding, its massive domes cracked and pitted with holes. The walls rose thick and mighty, pierced by windows whose depths defied the light of First Bronze. Here and there a buttress had collapsed, or an entire hall folded in upon itself, but it had survived the ravages of time with grim dignity.

Scorio drew a deep breath. “You ready? Naomi told me not to expect much within. That it would have been picked clean centuries ago.”

Leonis punched one hand into his other palm. “I’ve already received my day’s work-out from the toad. Everything after this is gravy.”

“And you never know,” whispered Lianshi, clearly awed by the grandeur of the soaring edifice. “Perhaps everyone’s been telling themselves the same things for centuries.”

“One way to find out,” said Scorio. “Here, Lianshi, hold onto the steel bar. You’ve got the bridge, Leonis?”

The large man nodded, patting his robe where the bridge no doubt safely lay.

“Then let’s see what we can find inside,” said Scorio, moving forward. “Let’s see what treasures may have been forgotten and await us within.”