When Lucian made it to the top, he let out a breath and hopped onto the boulder he’d originally bound. He gazed into the valley below, the ring of hovels basking in the dim, northern sunlight. He couldn’t look long, though. There was only so much daylight left, and Lucian didn’t want to push it.

  He walked along the slope, and within the hour, the column of white smoke was closer. He still couldn’t see the actual ground it was rising from. The landscape was too rough and twisted. He’d only learn more by moving forward. If this expedition turned out to be a bust, he’d have to find shelter for the night and wait for his pool to regenerate. Even with a fire, he didn’t know if he could sleep out in the open, especially if it started snowing again.

  The smoke was closer now, though the acrid stench of the lichen was absent. The wind might have carried the smell away. Another aroma, however, entered his nostrils—this one earthy. The temperature warmed quite a bit as he walked west. He could feel the warmth of the land through his boots. Thin rivulets of snowmelt ran down the shallow slope, coursing a path through deep snowdrifts.

  The moment he crested the next hill, a flat expanse spread before him. And he saw the source of the smoke.

  It wasn’t smoke at all, but steam from hundreds of interconnected geothermal pools, spreading for at least a kilometer.

  And lazing in one of the pools, about halfway across the field of hot springs, were two people. Both were male and shirtless, one with long gray hair and a beard, and the other bald and portly. Their clothes were cast off on the ground nearby.

  It was too late to duck and hide. The gray-haired one was already waving at Lucian.

  “Hullo!” The booming voice echoed off the ridges surrounding the pools.

  Lucian could do nothing but awkwardly raise his hand in acknowledgment. He walked forward, mindful of the collapsed shockspear in his pocket. The men weren’t making a move to dress or defend themselves, but that alone didn’t mean anything.

  It took about five minutes to weave his way through the pools. The hot steam was overheating him in his parka. He didn’t want to take it off just yet, though. Even if these two men were defenseless, it was likely they were mages, too, and as long as they had their magic, a mage was never defenseless. Running was pointless since they knew where to find him. So, the only real option was to meet them head-on and hope for the best.

  By the time Lucian was close, they were still idling in the bubbling water, eyes closed, like two walruses in the sun. The bald one looked disappointed as Lucian approached, while the gray-haired one laughed uproariously.

  “Told you,” the gray-haired one said. “It’s a man.”

  The fat one shook his head. “Well, it’s fresh meat anyway.”

  “Where are your manners?” The gray-haired one smiled in apology. “We aren’t monsters, believe me. The edges society once smoothed have been quite roughened, I’m afraid.”

  Lucian wasn’t sure how to take that. The portly man watched him with glinting eyes and a half-smile that somewhat creeped him out.

  The gray-haired one barked a laugh. “Have a drink!” he said, nodding toward a leather-skinned canteen. “There’s plenty for all.”

  The bald one watched Lucian as he took a swig from his canteen.

  “If you’re wondering about my idle comment,” the gray-haired one said, “my friend and I made a small wager.”

  “Is that so?”

  He gave a yellow smile. “About whether you were a man or a woman. My friend here lost that bet. I have better eyes, but he was so sure.”

  “He looked pretty enough from a distance,” the bald one said glumly.

  “I’d watch yourself around Plato, if I were you,” the gray-haired one warned.

  At this, Plato tittered.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” Lucian said.

  “I would never dream of it, dear,” Plato said. “I’m perfectly harmless. Right, Linus?”

  “Hardly. You chased that other one off. Katya, was her name?”

  “Wait,” Lucian said. "Is Katya here?”

  Linus looked back at Lucian, brushing a strand of gray hair out of his eyes. “Not anymore. The shuttle came by a week ago. She decided to take her chances on the Mad Moon rather than with us.”

  “A pity,” Plato said. “You’re not doing a good job of selling us. What must this poor young man think?”

  “You’re right, my friend. But honesty is the best foundation for friendship, no?” At Plato’s lack of answer, Linus continued. “You must forgive us. It gets lonely out here, and we get so excited we flat-out forget our manners sometimes. Welcome. Welcome to the Isle of Madness!”

  Linus gestured with his hands widely in welcome, his blue eyes giving off a crazed gleam. These two weren’t doing much for Lucian’s confidence, especially as they both took mighty swigs from their canteens. Lucian knew from their rosy cheeks and general silliness that it wasn’t water in there.

  Linus belched happily. “What’s your name, friend?”

  “Lucian.”

  Linus stood, doing nothing to hide his private parts. Modesty, it seemed, wasn’t a value on the Isle of Madness. For his age, Lucian noted his body was lean and well-muscled. “I see you admiring my form, young mage. Believe me, Juan Ponce was looking for his Fountain of Youth in the wrong world. These springs are delightful for one’s complexion!” He extended a hairy hand, connected to an even hairier forearm. “As mentioned, my name is Linus. Linus Wander. Isle of Madness inhabitant and Mayor for the past four decades.”

  Plato scoffed. “Mayor of my fat, hairy arse, maybe.”

  “Yes. And the mayor of any arse that plants itself on a single pebble of my island.” Linus cleared his throat. “To our newest citizen, I apologize that we didn’t bring you your gift basket. The storm precluded us, though we were on our way there. Only, the springs called out to us. I’m glad you came this way because that valley is nothing but death and despair.” He smiled widely. “Plunk here didn’t want to come at all.”

  “That’s not my name,” Plato said.

  “Fine. We just call him Plunk because . . .”

  “We? We’re the only two people on this island, idiot.”

  “So far,” Linus said. “If we play our cards right, our duo could become a trio.” He turned back to Lucian. “This may look like pure paradise, but I assure you, life here is anything but. But if you know where to look and how to finagle the environs for food and shelter, it’s not a bad life.” He frowned. “It could only use some more women.”

  Lucian was still averting his gaze. “Are you going to, err . . . cover yourself up?”

  Linus looked down, abashed. “Oh. My apologies. You’re not used to our island customs. Nakedness, you see, is not considered taboo here. But for the sake of you, our guest, I’ll cover myself.”

  When he sat back down in the pool, Lucian found it much easier to focus.

  “We saw your smoke a few nights back, as I said before.” Linus nodded toward a leather satchel next to the springs. “That was to be your warming gift, but good Plato here could not resist a-plunking in these Pools of the Gods, as we are wont to call them.”

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  “It was your idea, actually,” Plato grumbled.

  “Well, I agreed it would serve us greatly before heading into that bone-filled, snow-filled, ghost-filled valley.”

  “What’s wrong with the valley?” Lucian asked.

  Linus gave a guttural laugh. “What’s wrong? Well, I’ll tell you what’s wrong. It’s the worst spot to shelter on this island, especially in winter. The snow will bury you alive. How did you even get here?”

  “An antigrav disc connected to a binding tether.”

  Linus’s mouth made a rictus. “Oh. I see. Well, good for you, then. We get by without magic. That’s how we’ve lived to a ripe old age. Ether is a poison we’ve learned to do without.”

  “I thought it was the springs."

  “Ah, that too. But mostly the lack of magic. A dangerous thing, that is. Magic.”

  Plato held up a beefy hand as if to say Lucian wasn’t ready for that part. “Enough serious talk. Hop on in. I promise the heat isn't coming from Linus’s piss.”

  Linus scoffed. “Yeah, because it’s coming from your flatulence, sir.” Linus’s expression twisted. “Whatever the source of this heat, it feels nicer than the cold air. Have yourself some refreshment, young Lucian. We have Sea Drink. That should loosen tongues as we all share our tales. You’ve been through much, friend. I would like to hear you laugh before daylight fails.”

  “I’m not doing that,” Lucian said. “I don’t know who the two of you are, anyway.” And they couldn’t be too noble if they’d scared Katya out of her wits enough to choose the Mad Moon over their company.

  “Why?” Linus asked, abashed. “If you’re worried about us robbing you, don’t worry; we have everything we need on this island.” He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Unless you have . . . coffee?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Alas. One of the past exiles had some.”

  “That was ten years ago,” Plato said.

  “Be that as it may, drink with us, friend! It’s impossible to know someone until you’ve gotten bloody drunk with them first.” His nose wrinkled. “And you smell like you walked out of a hippopotamus’s ass. Rose lichen makes for good fuel, but you must soak it for a good twenty-four hours beforehand. It’ll get rid of most of the spores that cause that dreadful stench.”

  Lucian saw that he had no choice but to join them. If they wanted to kill him, they would have done so by now.

  He dropped his pack and stripped off his parka and pants. Now, he stood in his dirty Novice robes. The two old ones watched him for an uncomfortably long time. And Plato’s eyes were hungry.

  “Do you mind?” Lucian asked.

  “Look away, Plato,” Linus said. “We must protect the modesty of this youth, even if it’s from your own eyes.”

  Lucian wondered whether he might get into the pool with his robe on, but that would make for a wet trip back. He decided to take it off but to leave his underwear on. Good as their word, the two old men averted their gazes, Plato even shutting his eyes tightly while he turned his head.

  Lucian slipped into the warm water. He couldn’t lie to himself; it felt amazing. Whatever misgivings he had were erased as soon as the warm mineral water soaked into his bones. That said, he kept alert, half-holding his Focus so he would be ready for anything.

  “Good, then,” Linus said, turning back. His manner grew more serious. “Wash that hair, too. It looks like it was dragged through a trash compactor.”

  Lucian dunked his head underwater, but only for a couple of seconds. He felt relieved to see that the two old men had remained on their side of the pool.

  “So,” Plato said. “Why are you here, Lucian?”

  The stout man tossed him a skin of what had to be the Sea Drink, which Lucian caught. He took a small sip, only to be polite. It was cloyingly sweet, with an alcoholic content that set fire to his throat. He barely managed not to cough, to their laughter.

  He wanted to ask them that very same question. This island was supposed to be empty, and if Linus had been here for four decades, as he had said, then how was he still here? Why hadn’t the shuttle taken him to Psyche? And Plato looked to be the same age as him and had lived here a long time as well.

  There was more to this island than met the eye. And Lucian meant to find out.

  So, he told the story of how he got to be here. There was nothing to lose by telling the truth. When he got to the part about the Transcends stabbing him in the back, both of their faces darkened. Plato spat to the side while Linus punched the water.

  “That’s the Transcends for you,” Linus said. “A bunch of dirty old frauds!”

  “I take it you had bad experiences with them too?”

  “Bad experiences?” Plato gave a grim laugh. “Isn’t that why we’re all here?”

  “That Transcend Violet is the worst,” Linus said. “Huge, pointy, twisty stick up her wrinkled ass.”

  “He means Transcend White,” Plato said. “She was Transcend Violet when we were Novices.”

  “Yeah,” Linus said. “What’s changed? Katya didn’t share all that much. She didn’t take to our island lifestyle. Figured the going would be easier on Psyche. More fool her. Suffice it to say, we’re here for the same reason you are. Well, your whole bit about being exiled for being too good seemed a little untruthful. But we’ll let it slide. We’re all friends here.”

  “I didn’t lie,” Lucian said. “I should be back there right now. If I had chosen one of them to train with, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Of course, you think that,” Plato said, “but you don’t know for sure. You want to be honest, and the honest path usually has a cost. Unfortunately, that cost is being forced to spend time with two hairy and irreverent sexagenarians.”

  Linus barked a laugh. “Well, I doubt he’ll elect to remain with us, my old friend. Usually, it works like this. One, two, maybe even three exiles come here at a time. Then the shuttle comes, and they race for it as if it’s a lifeline out of a stormy sea. You see, here there is no escape. Try to waterwalk across the ocean, and you’ll never make it the four thousand kilometers to Krygos. Even if the entire sea were to freeze, the distance is much too far. Between this Isle of Madness and the mystery box that is Psyche, most people opt for the mystery box. And we expect you will as well when the time comes.”

  “They always choose the mystery box,” Plato said darkly. “They choose a literal hell over us! Confound it!”

  “Well, sometimes they try to make it work,” Linus said. “We had one man stay with us a couple of years. Then, it got to be too much for him. He jumped off a cliff.”

  “Oh, I forgot his name. It was something weird, like Laurel.”

  “No weirder than Plunk.”

  “Plato,” he said.

  “Well, it must be hard to survive here,” Lucian said. He took another swig of the Sea Drink; only this time, the taste hit him stronger. He started to gag.

  Linus gave that barking laugh again. “You look as green as sweet kelp, friend.” He took a swig from his own canteen. “The drink will grow on you, but it suffers not the weak-stomached. You need it to stay sane here, though. It’ll also keep the scurvy at bay.”

  “Doesn’t appear to have worked for you on the sanity front, my dear Mayor,” Plato said. “Quite the opposite.”

  Linus rolled his eyes. “So, what do you think, young Lucian?”

  “Of what?”

  Linus’s gesture seemed to take in everything. “This!”

  “I’m not sure what to think. The Psions told me no one was on this island.”

  “Ha! If the Transcends are clueless, the Psions are even more so.”

  “Why are both of you here, then?”

  Plato shrugged. “Couldn’t cut the mustard, as we used to say. After five years at the Academy, I couldn’t keep up. The Transcends noticed, and they sent me off. There was a good community of outcasts back then. Life was much rougher, though. Those who didn’t die opted to go to Psyche, thinking that at least on a prison world they might find a steady supply of food.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Perhaps it is a better life, but in the years since, we’ve made things much better. I’ve learned to be content in the middle of nowhere at the edge of this blasted world. There’s even beauty if you have eyes to see it.”

  There was a silence after this, and for once, Linus didn’t seem to have a flippant remark.

  “As for me,” the mayor said, “where to even begin? I was a Talent to Transcend Gray. In those days, Transcend Gray was a fat old man. He’s been dead for three decades now, I imagine. Well, one day I got into an argument with another Talent. First, it came to blows. Then it came to magic.” Linus’s face became stony as he remembered. “How I hated him. He was my rival, you might say, and both of us were competing for the position of being the fat man’s Psion. Well, push comes to shove, and we went too far. We streamed magic that would get us expelled.”

  “So, both of you were caught?” Lucian asked.

  Linus nodded, his gray beard dipping into the warm spring. “Aye, both of us were caught. But Rendar was raised to Psion. He’s Transcend Gray now.”

  At Lucian’s shocked reaction, Linus chuckled bitterly.

  “Who knows, young man,” Linus said. “That might have been me if I’d kissed ass.” He stood with a distant expression on his face. “I’ve had my fill of these springs. It’s time we head back before the daylight fails.”

  “Transcend Gray is fraying, you know,” Lucian said. "You might see him here before too long.”

  “Is that so?” His expression was grave. “Well, if that’s true, I doubt we’ll be seeing him. Once they fray, they either off themselves voluntarily or go delving the Manifold hoping to be the next Arian.” Linus suddenly stood. “It’s time we headed back. Daylight’s burning.”

  Plato nodded, dunking his bald head one last time before standing up. To Lucian’s relief, his prodigious gut covered his manhood. Living here couldn’t be so bad if he could maintain that weight.

  Lucian stepped out of the pool. For the first time since getting here, he felt warm to the bone and clean. He dressed, wrinkling his nose at his smelly clothing that reeked of sulfur.

  “You got anything back at those cabins?” Linus asked.

  “This is everything.”

  Linus nodded. “Good. Well, I thought we’d head back to the hideout. Show you the ropes, as it were. It’s much more comfortable where we stay.” He shrugged his bony shoulders. “I mean if we haven’t scared you off yet.”

  Yes, there was that. Something about their story about driving away Katya didn’t add up. If they did do that, why would they tell him? If they wanted him to follow them, they would have wanted to put their best foot forward. There was more to it, and Lucian would have to figure it out.

  “Lead the way, and I’ll follow.”

  Linus nodded and set off. Plato shrugged and waddled after Linus, his short, stout legs doing a good job of keeping up with the taller man.

  Lucian hesitated only a moment before following. It looked like these two old ones would be his guides here, and for now, it seemed best to follow their advice. There was no way he was going to survive on his own.

  Still, his most pressing question was left unanswered. How had they survived here for so long? And how had they eluded the prison shuttles?

  Both were mysteries that Lucian resolved to find out.