My retreat to the throne room served multiple purposes.

  For one, I wanted to insulate myself from others, letting the image I accidentally crafted take hold. If people believed me more dangerous than I am, they would be less likely to do anything stupid. Hell, if I was being honest with myself, I enjoyed the feeling of being feared. I didn't notice it about myself before, but I guess extreme situations uncovered some hidden depths in me, for good or bad.

  Another reason was my desire to better myself. But, unfortunately, any spell practice or the creation of new abilities would have its cost, and my stores were not inexhaustible, especially with the lack of inflow the coming days promised.

  My latest aptitude for empowerment by inflicting pain on myself and others was a prime candidate to be refined further. Despite the drawbacks, being capable of enhancing my power output by several folds was priceless. It could be the difference between life and death.

  The most critical aspect surrounding pain-aligned casting was my ability to weather its effects and deal with the consequences.

  Unfortunately, the source of my suffering didn't seem to be corporeal but more metaphysical in nature. Even though time slowly eroded the effect, nothing else seemed to lessen it. Even magical healing didn't have the intended outcome of lifting the phantom pains.

  A fact Claire will no doubt soon discover, I noted with satisfaction.

  This led to the last reason I had sequestered myself, namely Hibernation. If I didn't have a productive way to spend my time, then I would pass it most efficiently.

  Incidentally, it was also the only thing that helped minimize the aftershocks of my casting. After much thought, I developed an understanding of the reasoning behind it.

  I called it alignment since the resulting power, while greater than our regular use of mana, had a certain quality to it that made it specialized. Sure, I could cause pain with the pain-aligned energy, but could I do something completely different? Could I Heal or apply Force with this power? I highly doubted it.

  Our regular power had a general feel of unrestricted potential, begging to be spent. But while the more narrow-purpose ones were more potent in their field, they couldn't have the same potential, not to mention the kickback they carried.

  I could almost imagine myself slowly being eaten by the fear inside me, losing everything else and slowly turning into a shade. It would be a sick joke this hell hole would play on me—time would turn its wheels, and I would become the guardian of this place, feeding on the fear of the outsiders and slowly transforming into something similar to the maw shade that had been here previously, only to be vanquished by the next batch of arrivals.

  But even those ungrounded fantastical fears turned to nothing under the effects of Hibernation.

  If aligning myself with fear or pain made me more susceptible to their effects and even made me want to use them more, then Hibernation was the complete opposite. It was aligning me with... nothing. A completely relaxed state, perfect Zen at the tip of my fingers, always one thought and flex of will away.

  This was how Kenny found me. Sitting on the ornate throne, meditating with a sense of internal calm that felt so elusive during the normal day-to-day activities.

  I could feel my rough edges being somewhat smoothed over by the process, some harmony restored to my battered psyche, the consequence of my prickly spell bleeding away, healing.

  While I still couldn't sleep due to the nature of the odd reality I have found myself in, I couldn't shake the feeling that this intentional process may be necessary if I wanted to continue to live with my sanity intact.

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  "Nate?" Kenny called out. "We are ready for you, man. Are you coming out?"

  "Everything's fine?" I asked mildly, moving to the exit.

  "Sure is," he patted the cloth-covered artifact on his belt. I noticed an empowered symbol depicting a closed eye painted over it.

  When I hopped outside, I could only marvel at the veritable army readied at the foot of the Pillar.

  Grim-looking men and women united under one purpose—hunt something greater than themselves to survive another day.

  Was it progress, or were we devolving back into our hunter-gatherer forefathers?

  Too bad it wasn't my army to command. It was Edith's, and I was just their guide. I noticed the tough young woman at the center of attention, going over the details.

  If it was even that—an army, that is. Most people joined as established teams and were loyal first to themselves and then to those who survived with them for the last weeks. Their new charge under Edith was a far third in their priority list. I had no doubt her command over them would fail sooner rather than later.

  "How many?" I asked.

  "Just over fifty," Kenny answered. "Well, fifty joined officially and kind of know what to do. The rest are last-minute additions that are tagging along."

  I nodded. The same thing happened when they attacked the raiders' base, so it was expected. I hoped the new additions didn't plan to idle by and turn on the rest of us when all the work was done.

  It would have been less problematic with Victor's original crew. With a solid block of twenty loyal guys, not much could have stood in their way. Until they shat the bed, at least. Now only seven remained after all the fighting and Karl's breakup, and that's counting Kenny, who wasn't used much to a combatant's role.

  "How much did the Temple provide?"

  "None," Kenny cringed. "Four of their guys are coming along to make sure they are getting their fair share, but they're not gonna help us in any way."

  "What's their fair share?" I asked incredulously. "What are they expecting to get if they're not taking part in any of that?"

  "Well, they got us the equipment we needed," he pointed at a random gal absentmindedly twirling a rope with a huge metal hook at the end of it. I could see many more people with similar equipment carried by hand or spooled around their shoulders. "And they got me a stack of pentacles," he rested his hand on the boomstick. "With this thing, I gobbled 'em up like there is no tomorrow."

  I nodded along. It was all swell and all that, but it wasn't a direct participation in the perilous expedition.

  Not that I was one to judge. If I have my way, my contribution will end the moment I finish my part and guide the rest of the forces to the beast. After that, they will do all the dangerous work for me.

  Fortunately, the Temple's contribution didn't end with equipment and pentacles.

  "Here, these are for you," Edit passed me a couple of baubles as soon as we reached her.

  One had the familiar form of a compass I had already seen in Victor's hands. A thin metal base covered with glass. What was different about it than expected was the contents.

  Inside the miniature dome was a central metal pin that extruded from the base, and thin metal arrows rested on the spindle. There was no mechanism inside or even markings to mark the cardinal directions. The device was deceptively simple other than a large number of arrows inside it.

  The arrows were also the only part of the contraption empowered to create some sort of magical effect.

  The other implement was a simple glass bottle, bereft of a cork or a cap. I could sense a concentration of essence from inside and a residual of an inactive spell, despite it being visibly empty.

  "What's that?" I asked.

  "Your tools," Edith relayed. "The compass will show us the direction. All you need to do is project an image of what you're looking for and activate one of the arrows. They're one use each."

  Well, that explained why the compass needed more than one arrow.

  "What about the bottle?" I asked. "You drank it on the way?"

  "Very funny," Edith deadpanned. "The vial is a lure, same thing was used to catch the shade that was scaring folk out of the Pillar."

  "I don't think it's big enough to hold the thing we're after," I noted.

  "Doesn't have to be," Edith waved it away. "You'll only use it if you need to bring the Squid out. It's just the tasty worm on the hook. The actual hook is everyone else here," she swept her hand around. "And don't use it inside the city. She was very particular about that."

  I smothered the contrarian idea. I wanted to use it immediately and lure the Squid into the city to spite Claire. We could use the help of more people, but if they are not coordinated and don't plan to be a part of it, they're only going to flounder and get in our way. Plus, we'd have to retreat somewhere if things didn't go according to plan, so I let things be.

  The image of the Squid sprang up in my mind, its large form with flailing arms and the wet sounds it produced. I didn't like remembering that encounter, but sometimes needs must. Once all the minor details were held firmly, I pulsed my energy to one of the arrows activating it, wishing for it to show me the direction of my target.

  "Where to?" Edith asked.

  The charge of the arrow was spent as it no longer held the enchantment, and I looked down in excitement at seeing the contraption work.

  I watched for several more seconds, but the result didn't change.

  It remained motionless.

  Fuck.