The guard yawns and stretches, luxuriating in both. Then his eyes snap open and he starts scanning the room, still lying down. He notices the hole in the wall and the burnt mound of stone in front of it, and his face goes pale. He grasps at his belt and the missing wand, and his eyes go even wider.

  ”At ease,” Corum says. ”There was a situation, but it’s over. Wake up your colleague. You’ll escort us downstairs.”

  The guard jumps up, clanking and rattling as he does. He winces and presses a hand at his back, brows furrowed in confusion. ”Yes, lady representative!” he shouts, way too loud so that even I hear it easily. When he takes a step, he winces again. The guard limps outside, glancing at the door hanging by one of its hinges.

  Corum watches him go. ”Enthusiastic, have to give them that.” She turns to me and hands me a small pouch. ”Tend to your wounds.”

  I take the pouch and place it on the table to open it, expecting to find bandages. Inside there’s a small rag and a thick glass bottle of a blue liquid. The liquid shines through the glass, illuminating the desk in the dark room. I lift the bottle to my eyes, taking a deep breath. Ambrosia! I’ve seen it once before, when a teratome spat its teeth right through Ral’s stomach. They dribbled the stuff into the wounds and the punctures scarred over within hours. Ral complained about them itching for a long time, though. I look at the bottle and turn to Corum. ”How do I use it?”

  She makes an annoyed face, turning away from me as she’s speaking. “Why are you all shouting? Wet the cl… d…b t… …s”

  “What?”

  She turns back and stops to look at me for a heartbeat. “Ah, hearing damage, of course. I didn’t have time to shield you, sorry,” she says, pronouncing the words with her whole face. “First, pour some into your ears. Then, wet the cloth in the liquid and dab it at the cuts.” She mimes dunking something in her ear and talks loudly and slowly, like you talk to someone very old and perhaps somewhat dim.

  It’s both annoying and helpful. The liquid tingles as I pour it into my ears. Some dribbles on my face and it’s stickier and somehow lighter than water. Almost insubstantial on my skin. When the liquid blocks my ear, I can’t hear anything except the whining drone. The pain numbs first, then the whine dims. The quiet almost makes me cry out of relief.

  Once I’ve handled both ears, I take a look at myself in general. I’m covered in cuts and bruises and bleeding worse than I ever have. My clothes are a mess. The bleeding stops immediately when I wipe the cuts with the wet cloth. A large gash in my forearm clots and the pain numbs, even though the cut is still visible, red and raw.

  Corum stands at the door, the guards hovering behind her shoulder. “You look like you’ve been wading in razors. Ready to go?”

  My ears still whine and I’m a collection of freshly scabbed scars. My clothes are stiff and sticky with clotted blood. “I guess.”

  “At least you aren’t shouting anymore. Let’s go.”

  The landing hall is in turmoil. The merchants and nobles mill about. Guards are running back and forth through the hall, waving their hands and shouting at each other. No one seems to have an idea what they are doing. As we float down, the movement stops and all faces turn up to look at us. There’s a moment of silence and then everyone starts shouting at the same time, demanding answers or voicing protests about their cancelled meetings or other grievances.

  Corum tries to say something, but her voice is lost in all the hubbub. Her mouth pulls into a snarl and the two guards lean away from her. She flicks her fingers, and the hall goes quiet. The quiet is deafening, like the moment after my ears stopped whining. The people below look confused, their mouths opening and closing, hands waving at us.

  We touch down in the middle of the circle. The guards hesitate and their eyes peer around the crowd.

  Corum pulls herself up to her full height. “We’re in a hurry,” she says in a quiet voice.

  She starts walking and the crowd parts before her. I follow closely behind her, as not to be left behind. I spot Astaroth in the crowd. He winks at Corum and gestures something with his fingers, a single dark eyebrow raised scandalously high.

  “And you, I’ll handle later,” Corum says, turning her head away from him.

  The smirk on Astaroth’s face is the most self-satisfied thing I have ever seen. Heads in the crowd turn around, searching for whoever her comment was meant for. Astaroth doesn’t know I told her he promised to leave her in peace. I’m pretty sure he deserves whatever ends up happening.

  Corum takes the steps three at a time. The guard who was thrown through the door clambers awkwardly behind us, his face twisting and clenching without making a sound. The other guard is uninjured and could keep up, but he’s trying to look dignified and orderly and descends the stairs like he’s on a parade. I reach the bottom of the stairs with Corum. I expect her to continue forward, but she turns sharply toward a small door to the side. I haven’t been in a building this large before, but even so, it makes no sense to me. Grand staircases lead directly to an auditorium connected to a kitchen, corridors twist and cross each other, a door suddenly opens up to a large greenhouse, which is connected to an office with rows and rows of desks.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “There’s no way I would get out of here on my own,” I say aloud, as Corum takes another turn and walks through a room full of guards changing clothes.

  Her eyes are glued to the door on the opposite end of the room. “Tenorsbridge is singular. Most buildings have been created piece by piece by someone who needed a lecture hall, a dressing room or what have you. There’s still a balcony left floating over the Market Square after Marek wanted to watch the city wake up one morning.” She rolls her eyes toward the ceiling. “I hear it’s becoming a tourist attraction.”

  We step through another door and we’re in the big hall with the pyramid.

  The other Janitor is waiting for us, arms crossed across her chest. She looks at me and then takes another look, mouth pressing into a thin line. My clothes are hanging on me in tatters, soiled in blood even though I’m not bleeding anymore. She gives me a look like I’m going to be getting a lecture later, but turns to Corum. “Representative.”

  “Janitor. A replacement will be needed for the War Janitor.”

  She blinks a couple of times, but then nods. “There’s an hour before the Etherthorn Weave is put in place. Do you mind?” The question hangs in the air.

  Corum crosses her arms and presses her chin to her chest. “Go ahead.”

  The Janitor turns on her heels and marches to the pyramid. She slaps a hand on it and there’s the familiar flash. She turns back and starts to count things off with her fingers. “I’ll be back in two hours. It takes too long to persuade the new Janitor to accept the job and we have to walk back. I’ll send a cleaning crew to your office before I leave. You’ll need to intervene at Liam’s office after this discussion and Liam will need three hours to gather himself once he hears of Lictor, so take that into account.” She stops to roll her eyes and lifts up a fifth finger. “And Astaroth will try to surprise you upstairs and you cripple him accidentally. Do what you will with this information.”

  Corum runs a hand over her eyes and groans. The Janitor disappears without another word. The smell of ozone stays behind to linger in the cold air of the hall.

  The door creaks open and a face peeks in. A moment later, the uninjured guard stumbles in, supporting the other guard leaning on him. “All clear, lady representative? All Rides done?” he asks.

  “Not yet,” Corum says firmly, without turning around. She stares at me. “You have 30 minutes to do whatever you want. After that, the mission will begin. Don’t make me come get you.”

  I was planning to run straight through Liam’s office, but stop. Mandollel, Rworg, and Finna are in the room. Rwrog looms over Liam. It seems whatever happens between them and Lictor leaves them unharmed. It’s nice to know, even if it won’t matter when I’m back and can stop the whole thing early. Mandollel poses with his weight on one leg, hip angled to the side, and torso twisted to meet my gaze as I rush in. Finna rolls her eyes at him.

  “Locke!” Rworg shouts. He has his massive sword in hand, nearly scratching the ceiling with it as he spreads his arms in greeting.

  Liam leans away from him. “Please, be careful, everything is certainly under control—“

  “Shush, tiny man!” Rworg bellows at him.

  Liam’s knees jerk like he’s about to duck below his desk.

  Mandollel lowers a hand on Rworg’s shoulder. “Peace, friend,” he says and turns to me. “Did Lictor find you?”

  “Um, he did. We have to leave soon, but I will need to search the floor for something before that.”

  Mandollel’s smile tightens. “What are you looking for?”

  “A jewel. Around this size, probably very confusing to look at. Have you seen it?” I lift my hands and mime holding something larger than a coin.

  “Why do you have extra thumbs?“ Liam asks, but Mandollel shouts over his questions.

  “The Time Gem?” There’s clear panic in his voice.

  “Yes, that’s what it was called on the…“

  I stop talking as Mandollel grabs onto a backpack that Finna is wearing and wrenches it off her.

  “Hey!” she shouts, regains her balance beautifully and kicks at Mandollel.

  He doesn’t react as the kick hits his shin. He’s elbow deep in the backpack, lifting something out of it. I recognize the device from the blueprint. It’s a large half-sphere of metal. The levers and buttons from the blueprint are there, but the plates cover whatever is inside. Mandollel takes a knife from his belt and places the device on Liam’s desk. After a moment’s tinkering, a plate pops off from the device and he takes a hissing breath through his teeth.

  “The mission will proceed nonetheless,” Corum says from behind me.

  I jump. The Janitor did say Corum needed to intervene, but it still comes as a surprise.

  Corum continues, this time directly at Mandollel. “The Time Gem is still here, in the building. You will get it back. You have my word.”

  Mandollel’s shoulders are raised up to his pointy ears. They lower slowly before he speaks. “But how can the device still work?”

  “I looked into it. The addition of the Gem came later. It will now do what it was meant to do, originally.”

  Finna’s eyes have a dangerous look below the mass of her tangled hair. “Kill everyone, you mean?”

  Corum faces her glare. “Not everyone. Them.” Finna tries to say something, but Corum continues, cutting her off. “Make no mistake. It’s unforgivable. Monstrous. But this is about the survival of everyone on the continent and the only solution we have. Lictor made sure of that.”

  Liam looks up. “Where is he, by the way? He ran past earlier, making an odd face.”

  Corum’s mouth tenses, but she forces it into a smile. “Lictor is still upstairs.”

  “Ah,” Liam says and smiles. After a moment, he scratches his head. “I thought Janitors weren’t supposed to go upstairs?”

  Mandollel clears his throat. “We already agreed to this. Even if there was an alternative, there is none now.” He puts the plate back into place and shoves the device back into Finna’s bag, starting to close the straps with an air of finality.

  “I still have time!”

  Everyone turns to look at me. Corum nudges her head toward the corridor where Lictor always took me. “Better get moving, then.”

  Mandollel swings his head to throw a lock of hair back to behind his ear. “I’ll go with. You’ll need someone to open the doors.”

  Finna crosses her arms and scowls. “We all go.”

  That’s a surprise, I thought she didn’t want any part in this. I can’t help myself from asking. “Why?”

  “We’re a team, stupid.”