“Is it clear?” asked Vit from behind her as Root stuck her head out into the hall. Back in the direction of the main hub, she could hear footsteps, but no one came into view. Down the other direction, Azriah, Beel, and Ron had disappeared into the map room, and otherwise the coast was clear.
“No one,” said Root, opening the door a bit wider. “But hurry—there are people back down that way. And I have no idea how much Mandy can see in here. Hopefully her eyes are just as bad as her articulators.”
Vit looked into the hallway. “Whoa,” they said and stopped short. They peered up into the darkness above and all around at the immaculately carved stonework. “And here I was thinking these people just revered bathrooms or something. It’s way nicer out here.”
“Yeah, I know, now come on.”
“Right.” Vit looked up and fired a strand of web blindly into the darkness above. “Ready?”
“We’re going—?” Root didn’t get to finish her question. Vit bloomed with arms—their translucent spider limbs unfolding from their sides at the same time they unwove both of their human arms into the pairs of teal ones. With eight arms at their disposal, they wrapped three around Root and jumped, climbing nimbly up into the gloom.
Root was proud of herself for not shouting in surprise when Vit pulled her upwards. Really, they should’ve been more communicative if stealth was the goal.
“Yeah,” answered Vit too late. They reached the ceiling and reoriented themself using several new strings of web to support the two of them. “It’s dark, though, so this is going to be tricky.”
“Why?” asked Root, looking everywhere but down. “Oh. Right.”
Vit’s arms and eyes cast a green glow across the walls. In the darkness, they stuck out like a firefly.
“Hold on.” Root appreciated the heads-up this time, even a vague one. Vit shifted Root into their teal arms and onto their back, then retracted the glowing limbs. The light went out. “My eyes will still glow when I spin new webs, so I’m going to have to keep them closed and covered when I can. You’ll have to be my eyes.”
“I—” started Root, and then they were swinging. Fuck, okay!
Root clung tightly to Vit’s back. Vit maneuvered them silently to the end of the hall via a combination of webs and climbing with their four spider limbs. As they went up and around the pointed ceiling—Vit finding sticky purchase with their arms—it made Root dizzy. She wanted to be the one with her eyes closed.
Vit brought them into the big hall and then higher towards the new ceiling. Root hadn’t considered that her heart could beat faster.
She generally felt fine about heights. As a kid, she’d been more willing than Eshra or the neighbor kids to scamper up to the top of a particularly lofty tree and see what she could hit with her spit from the uppermost boughs. But whether it was because that had been over soft jungle dirt while they now hung over stone tiles, or because she’d been able to feel the solid branches under her hands and feet rather than looking up and seeing a silvery thread the thickness of a piece of yarn holding them aloft, or because she’d been a child then with little grasp of mortality and danger, this was different. This height was worth a first-place gymnastics routine from her stomach.
At least if there was any stone floor to die on, this was a particularly beautiful one.
“Where next?” asked Vit. They’d opened their eye and removed their arm from its position covering the other four, and no glow emanated from them when they stopped spinning webs. Root could just barely make out their expression in the darkness.
She surveyed the floor. Oh… she regretted surveying the floor. And—fucking damn it—in her efforts to avoid looking at the floor, she’d looked at the web holding them up again. That was no better. She looked somewhere in the middle distance and tried to control her breathing.
“That big door on the right is the one we came in through. The one down there with the grate seems like a good bet.”
Vit nodded and started moving again. Fortunately, they didn’t ask her for directions. Before she knew it, they’d reached the ceiling above the grated door. Vit moved with impressive stealth, making so little noise that Root felt self-conscious of the faint whish-whish of her shirt against theirs as she hugged their back. But none of the scattered Capsoul employees looked up. The spattering of the fountain below would surely cover what little noise they made.
“You’ll have to go under,” whispered Vit.
“What?”
“The grate. You won’t fit through the bars, but I will. I’ll have to drop you down and bring you back up.”
“Do not drop me!”
“Not literally drop you. But you’ll have to go quick, and quietly.”
Root watched the people below. “We won’t be able to see if anyone’s coming up the stairs past this threshold.”
“Hm. We’ll get lower…”
“Careful, it gets lighter down there.”
A thought struck her: did any of the spirits below have the ability to see in the dark? Kanchitt and Tumb had indicated that they possessed the ability. If any of them looked up, they were in plain sight. And she still didn’t know how much Mandy could perceive of the goings-ons down here…
Shit, what were they doing?
“Okay, yeah, let’s move fast,” said Root, starting to panic.
“I can see through the grate here now. No one’s coming.” Vit turned and watched the activity in the hub as they moved Root back into two of their arms. “All right… ready…”
Root took a deep breath and held it. She didn’t know why.
“See you soon,” whispered Vit. They dropped her.
And she meant dropped. She entered a free fall.
Again, she had no idea how she held in a shriek. Pure nerves, it had to be. The stone floor looked less alluring when it raced to meet her.
Moments before she hit the floor, the back of her shirt went taut. Her descent slowed, and then she landed gracefully on her feet—not gracefully enough to be soundless, but not so hard as to break all her bones. Or, more importantly, make a loud noise.
The strand of spider silk fell across her head and shoulders, sticking in her hair. She hardly paid it any mind as she crossed under the door grate.
She got only two strides past the threshold when suddenly she shot back up into the air. Two spindly arms caught her around the waist.
“That was good,” said Vit.
“Thanks, I mastered taking three steps in a row, like, nineteen years ago. Did anyone see?”
They watched through the grate. No one was running or yelling, which seemed like a good sign.
“Doesn’t look like it. Come on.” Vit returned Root to their back and continued down the passage.
The ceiling sloped down in tandem with the staircase. Root crossed her fingers that it wasn’t another eleven-mile tunnel, and her hoping seemed to work. They arrived at the bottom a few minutes later.
To the left was a large alcove with a table and stools, rows of cabinets, a pallet of bricks, and a hefty tome atop a desk. Five spirits sat around the table playing cards and smoking. Ahead, the tunnel went on for ages, perforated by glass windows and huge metal doors stamped with glyphs.
“They’re numbered,” said Vit. “Those are spirit runes. One, two, three… We need to find out what cell the king is in.”
Root pointed at the huge book. “Bet it’s all listed in there.”
“We can’t get down there without getting spotted.”
“I’ve got an idea. Get ready to go. And, uh, you might have to leave me up here.”
Vit spun her a little hammock, which didn’t feel any more secure than their standard measures.
Watching the cluster of clinkers carefully, Root concentrated. Heat filled her chest; she funneled it down her arms and out her hands, building a cloud of dense smoke. When she had enough, she pushed it lower, pulling at the edges like an unsatisfied sculptor, trying for something a little more natural. But of course, making something look natural gets harder to do the longer you work at it.
She signaled to Vit. They took spider form and descended into the smoky room below.
“Ugh, guys—” said a spirit at the table. Root’s heart seized—had Vit been caught?
The spirit waved at the air. “You’re smoking too much—yeah, you, Raigg! Look at the air! What would you say if Ron walked down here right now?”
“Hey, it wasn’t all me!” From within the smoke came the unmistakable sound of someone trying to blow the cloud away. The equally unmistakable sound of someone coughing followed.
“Cell two,” said Vit, suddenly beside her again. “At least, I think so, if I interpreted it correctly. ‘Inmate: Ago Sog – Block 2; Brick 65.’”
“They really love their stone terminology here, huh?” said Root. “All right, let’s go.” Vit cleared the hammock and carried Root back out of the smoky alcove.
The door with the spirit glyph for the number two was the first one on the right. They dropped quietly to the floor. Thinking at first they’d gotten lucky that the king was in a cell so nearby, Root quickly walked that sentiment back. They were hardly out of sight of the guard alcove, and certainly not out of earshot. They tried the metal door. It was unlocked, and clearly just as well-maintained as the rest of the facility; it opened without a squeak. They closed it behind them.
“Unlocked,” whispered Vit. “Weird.”
“I thought I’d have to pick it,” agreed Root. “Chert really wasn’t kidding—they don’t think anyone is breaking out of here.”
And they quickly saw why.
Inside, the room was dark, but enough light came in through the windows to make out the rows and rows of stone plinths. Atop each was a single, ordinary brick, and each brick was clamped down by two bands of metal, one on each end, bolted to the plinth with thick metal bolts.
Whispers echoed through the room, voices coming from every corner. They faded as Root and Vit closed the door behind them.
Vit approached a nearby plinth. “This brick has a number carved on it—fifty-two.”
“The prisoners…” started Root.
“I almost forgot—this is what Krete meant. They’re all possessing bricks.”
Almost all. Scanning the plinths, Root saw a few odd items out—a pocketknife, a dirty rock, a half-eaten loaf of bread. But the vast majority were ordinary, matching bricks, each one carved with a number on the side facing the door.
“So we’re looking for sixty-five, then,” said Root.
The chatter in the room rose again.
“It’s here,” said Vit. Root joined them at the plinth.
“Sixty-five,” said Root, reading the number off the side. She rapped a knuckle on the brick. “Hello? Anyone in there?” She looked up at Vit. “How do we confirm?” she asked, leaning her ear close to the brick.
“Who… are you, exactly?” spoke a gravelly voice.
“You can talk?” asked Vit.
“Yes—I’m around here. Other side.”
They walked around the plinth. On the far side, opposite the number, the brick had been carved with a simple smiley face in a circle. The mouth moved in tandem with the words.
“You two aren’t Capsoul, are you?”
“Uh…” said Vit.
“No,” said Root, leaning closer. “But you’re Ago Sog, right?”
“Depends on why you’re looking for him.”
“We already read the logs. Block two, brick sixty-five.”
“Fine. I have to admit, this is peculiar. They say no one but Capsoul can even get through the tunnel, you know—not without an invitation.”
“We RSVP’d. Listen up, okay? We’re taking you with us, but only because we want your help. So once we’re out of here, you’re going to help us. Deal?”
“No details, hm?”
“Nope.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll hear you out at the very least.”
Root and Vit exchanged a look. Vit shrugged.
“Fine.”
Root stepped back and assessed the hardware. The metal belts and bolts, like everything else, looked perfectly maintained—no rust, no wear, no weak points. Damn these craftsmen and their pride in their work!
Vit gave the metal a few halfhearted tugs. Nothing moved.
“I might be able to manage,” said Root, summoning her sword. She wedged the tip under the edge of the metal.
The king’s nearly-featureless face watched her—at least, she felt like it did. He spoke: “Hm. If you break my brick here—er, sorry, I was trying to point. If you break it along this side of the band on your right, you should be able to slide the rest free.”
“Too noisy,” said Root. “There are several clinkers right outside the door. In case you’d forgotten, you’re in a prison.”
Vit put up a finger. “We should replace the brick with a decoy after we get it free—keep off any suspicion, you know? There were some just out there, I can go sneak one.” Root nodded, and they hurried off.
“All right,” she muttered. “Here goes. Uh—watch yourself, or whatever.”
She pried at the metal, levering her sword deeper between the two surfaces by a millimeter at a time as the band slowly bent. She tried to be gentle, fearing a sudden pop and sending a shard of metal careening around the room. But it was hard to be gentle when applying all of one’s weight to something.
Cruhk!k! echoed a dull scraping sound as one of the bolts lost purchase in the stone plinth. Root hung her sword in the air and pulled at the metal binding with her hands. The brick shifted, and after a lot of minuscule wiggling back and forth, she slid it free. Vit returned a second later with a new brick.
Root used her sword to etch the surface. She was no mason, but her sixty-five was legible and the smiley face was cuter than the original, if she was any judge. They slid it into place and bent the shackle back into roughly the original shape.
“Take me!” said a voice, whispering somewhere in the dark. “Take me, too!” “Free me!” “I’ll help you—I’ll do anything!”
Root looked all around at the rows and rows of bricks. Each one, a spirit.
“Do you think…?” started Root. She lowered her voice and leaned closer to Vit. “Are they going to rat us out?”
Vit bit their lip as they studied the inmates. “Well, nothing we can do about it. Let’s just get out of here. And fast.”
“Don’t need to convince me. Or him, probably.” Root handed the king’s brick to Vit. “Let’s go—Ron can only believe I’m in the bathroom for so long.”
“So, about here, then?” asked Ron. He tapped a spot on a floor-to-ceiling map, a detailed depiction of southeastern Atnaterra.
“Hmm. Hmmm…” said Azriah. He’d been doing a lot of hmm-ing. And he didn’t know how many more “I don’t knows” he had in him.
“Wasn’t it…” started Beel. “No…”
Beel was an excellent partner in this mission.
“Farther north,” said Azriah. “Yeah, I think so.”
Ron reached over and grabbed his left shoulder. With the chrak!shwup sound of a crust breaking and the gooey innards shlupping apart, he removed the arm to hold it aloft in his right, doubling his reach.
“More like this region?” he asked, pointing with the left arm that still seemed to be surprisingly functional.
“Hmmm…”
Ron glanced over at the door back out to the hall. Every time he did that, Azriah mir—er, magically—remembered another small detail.
“Yes—I think we passed through Yevel…”
“Ah, okay,” said Ron. He moved his finger to Yevel. “So, near Yevel, Shundrens. Probably around this region here.”
“Probably.”
“Very beautiful spots around there,” said Ron, his face alight. He was also an excellent partner in this mission, despite his unawareness of his own participation. The man loved an anecdote. “I took a trip through there once—oh, a long, long time ago now. I don’t think Yevel was even there yet, or any of these other bits. Yeah, let’s see, I think we hiked up along here—oh, and there’s this one little joint out past the mountains in the north. Best hot dogs I’ve ever had, and that’s no joke. But of course—all the way out there—ah, but isn’t that just the way. Wonder if that place is still in business…” Ron glanced at the door again. “Uh, in any case—maybe Root has a bit of a clearer memory of the spot. Is she… that is, I just mean—is she all right in there, you think?”
“Oh, certainly,” said Azriah, the most certain he’d been of anything so far in their conversation. “I’m sure it’s just, you know, human… functions.”
Ron’s eyes went wide. “Oh—oh, of course. Oh, I didn’t mean to—right, right. Yes, of course.” He let out an uneasy chuckle. “Well, anyway, I can get a team out there to sweep any caves in the area, though that’s still quite a large region to check in that manner. And you said it was a relatively small entrance—about yea high?” He used his double arm again to indicate a height near his nose.
“Yes, about that I think…”
“And you said it was a deep cave? About how deep, would you say? And were there any other passages?”
“Oh, tons,” said Azriah. “It was a maze—like an old burrow, perhaps.”
“I see, I see.” Ron scratched his head with his disconnected left hand as he studied the map.
It took all of Azriah’s focus not to also cast glances at the door. Root and Vit had been gone a while. Surely if they’d been caught, Ron would hear about it, right? Either an announcement from Mandy or someone running in to fetch him. They’d known it would take some time to locate and free the king, but waiting around talking about nothing made the minutes creep by.
“Anything else of note in this cave?”
“Not really,” lied Azriah as a slew of traumatic images churned through his mind.
Ron glanced at the door again. The same awkward look as before fell over his face. “Er, if you don’t mind me asking… well, you’re a human too. How long does it, you know, usually take to… take care of those… functions?”
“Oh, no, see—” said Azriah. “I—yes, I’m human, but not all humans undergo the same—well, as you say, functions.”
“Really?” asked Ron. “How does it—how is it determined which humans—?” A sheepish look crossed his face. “I—sorry, no, forget I asked.”
“You know,” said Azriah, “the remoteness, the maze—really, it may just be that Halwlau is secure where she is, you know?”
“Oh, well…”
“Oh! I guess I forgot to mention the infestation in the tunnels.”
“Infestation?”
“Infestation,” said Beel with a vigorous nod and a shudder.
“There were quite a lot of spirits in there,” said Azriah. “Buzzing, insect-like things. Hundreds of them.”
“Hundreds?”
“Mmmmm,” said Orbaub.
“They actually tasted quite horrible,” said Beel with a sour look.
“We barely made it through—and Halwlau was on the far end, past all of them. We all thought we were going to die. So, if anyone finds their way through the maze, and if they manage to escape all of those spirits, then they’d find Halwlau. And another thing—she did seem content, actually.”
He did feel bad, and he wanted to make up for it if he could. Sure, Halwlau wasn’t living a grand, lax life—or even a free life. But if it were him, he’d prefer being stuck in a cave over formal incarceration. She didn’t have anything to do with this prison break, they just recognized her name on the list and seized the opportunity that presented itself. If he could keep her out of this in the end… well, it was only fair.
Not to mention, it was probably for the best that no one went sticking their noses—or similar features—in the caves around Affodell’s crypt. If rumor got out that the legendary mirror of Ybris Affodell was found, it could only complicate their situation further.
“Content? What was her purpose there?”
“Oh, probably none,” lied Azriah. “Imprisoned, you know? Someone else with the same idea as you, perhaps.”
“Still, it might be good to assess the situation—relocate her if need be…”
“She might even be more secure there than here.”
“More secure there? Ha!” said Ron. “Nothing is more secure than our cells.”