Standing frozen in place, Luka watched the teacups ride burn. The ride attendant yelled at riders to vacate, holding open the exit gate for them. Some screamed, others briskly walked out of there. Luckily, the gnomes who started the fire only lit one of the spinning teacups—all the others were fine. Soon the fire would spread, but Luka wouldn’t let that happen.

  “Coming through!” he yelled, parting the growing crowd. Black smoke bellowed as the flames grew, the wood oil coating the burning ride. It stank of chemicals, a smell Luka thought he was long away from.

  Another repressed memory came to him, a second one so soon:

  The wind changed over the course of an hour, turning the weapons testing field into a landfill. The area began to stink, the mock houses and repurposed cars burning to a crisp. Overhead, jet fighters roared by, dropping their bombs with deadly accuracy. Explosions followed—chemical explosions.

  Most chemical weapons were outlawed in modern Earth wars. But that did not stop countries from researching them, nor did it stop them from using them in secret.

  After all, if there were no survivors, who was going to tattle on them?

  Luka watched the destruction of his weapons through a pair of binoculars, a smile on his face. He breathed deep; the smell of victory was one he’d never forget.

  The World Walker shook himself out of the memory—he hated this smell now. It only reminded him of what he used to be.

  In moments, he was standing before the flaming ride, his magic whirling. Magical strands of power filled his sight, snapping to wooden panels and clamping down on chiseled glyphs. Anger sprouted in the back of his mind—terrible, terrible anger. Stealing secrets was one thing. Sabotaging rides was another.

  But this?

  He flexed his magic with a grunt, tearing his ride apart, and separating the flaming wood from the pristine.

  This. This was too far.

  Luka mimed his spellwork like an orchestra conductor. He threw up his arms, and his magic followed—as did the burning teacup. The ride section rose into the air, high above the crowd. He yanked his arms forward, snapping the last remaining pieces.

  Then he clapped, smushing his palms together before kneading them together. There was resistance at first, but the flaming teacup imploded, flattening and condensing under Luka’s forceful magic.

  The flames snuffed out in heartbeats, and the wood chipped and sundered. He caught the falling dust and ash, maintaining his magic around the shoulders like a bubble of safety. A teacup could seat a family of four, now the one he held could fit inside of a large briefcase.

  It was just a ball of smoldering wood, a mass of materials, and a reminder he let this happen.

  Tram, Eve, Sol, and even Franky told him that Gnomeeee would be a problem. Hell, a god warned him as well. But he didn’t listen. He wanted to give everyone a fair shot—a second chance, in other words.

  Luka’s eyes drifted to the side, where a young girl cried. She was one of the evacuated riders, standing with her parents, hand in hand. She wore a white and yellow dress, one with embroidered flowers around the hem—briefly Luka wondered how long sewing the design would have taken here. There were no sewing machines.

  But no, Luka’s mind fell to the black soot that ran up her side, staining the white dress. Goddess Tippy’s blessing protected everyone in the park. People could jump off rides or stand in the way of a swinging pirate ship and be fine. Someone could sit in a flaming teacup and spin themselves to their heart’s content. Tippy's blessing protected all.

  But the people who lit the teacup on fire did not know that. Hell, Luka wasn’t entirely trusting in the blessing. If the blessing ever failed, it would be more blood on his hands.

  Luka felt something well inside of him, a darkness long hidden. If he ever caught the people who did this…

  He didn’t dare think about it. Because right now, Batty Barns’ crime lord beating would seem tame compared to the punishments he knew were locked deep inside his mind.

  A hand touched his shoulder.

  Luka turned, finding Eve, Annie, Vladdy, and a whole crew of villagers. Hundreds of guests stood around watching the ball of magically compressed wood smoke, and more piled in by the minute.

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  “You okay?” Eve asked. “I came back as soon as I smelled the smoke.”

  He twitched at the question.

  “Dad—” Annie said, stepping gently around the orc. She held her hand out, and Luka took it. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, why?” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Because you look like you did when Vale took over my body.” It was hard for her to admit that—it was not something Annie wanted to think about. But it had to be said… as well as this next part. “You look like you’re going to kill someone.”

  She said it in a whisper—no one beside Eve and Luka heard. He raised his chin at the statement, shuddering as dozens of repressed memories came trampling back. He fought them all away, only for someone in the crowd to catch his attention—a ghost.

  She had black, dusty hair, and bags under her eyes that would give any night shift worker pause. Her clothes were torn and bloody, her expression blank. She was charred black, as if a bomb had detonated beside her.

  She was dead—one of his victims. A nameless ghost that had plagued Luka since she found him—the reason he turned to pills and drink.

  “I thought she was gone,” Luka muttered under his breath. She had been. Over two months without seeing her—two peaceful months.

  “Who?”

  He heard Annie’s question but ignored it. He tried to step away, but two arms caught him, enveloped him, pinned him in place. They were warm. They were tender. But he couldn’t deal with his daughter right now.

  “Let go, Annie.”

  “Annie?” the arms asked.

  Luka flinched; the ghost woman suddenly gone. It was Eve hugging him, not Annie. No, Annie stood awkwardly nearby, staring at him like a scared kid. He gritted his teeth. He hated that expression of hers. He hated it so, so much.

  “Thanks, Eve,” Luka whispered, touching her arm softly. “I’m back. Thank you.”

  Eve took a massive, shuddering breath before releasing him. “We’ll handle this. Go take a break,” she said, referring to the crowd. Free-ride tokens needed to be passed out to the evacuated riders and an emergency happy hour needed to be set up throughout the park.

  Luka found himself nodding along, his thoughts distant. The ghostly woman was gone, for the moment, and the park needed a few minutes to reacclimate. The crowd would eventually disperse, and things would get back to normal. But then again, three rides were currently out of commission. He needed to fix those.

  “Have someone find Barns. We need to increase security. I saw three gnomes running from the fire.” Luka forced himself to recall. “They had a magical item of sorts, I think. It made flames.”

  Eve held his gaze for a long moment. “Got it. But seriously, you need to take a break. Since Jear got here, you’ve been working yourself to the bone. Then everything with the other VIPs.”

  “VIPs…” the acronym slipped from Luka’s mouth. “Yeah…” he said absentmindedly before walking away.

  He vaguely recognized Annie and Vlad following him. She stayed back a couple steps, her look of fear long gone. In its place was concern.

  I’m fine. Everything is fine, Luka told himself, knowing it was a lie.

  He had a few stops to make before resting. The first few were the broken-down rides. The WHEEL’s main gear shaft was broken—a straight split down the radius of the driving gear. The fix was so simple it took Luka longer to find it than it did to fix it. The broken swings ride was a similar story, only this time the main power glyph that caused rotation had a large scratch mark through it, likely from a pocketknife. It was fixed and back up and running in moments.

  I need to add better security to the guts of the rides, Luka thought. Maybe Sol knows a proper locking spell…

  Luka’s next stop was the pile of materials at the edge of the village. He grabbed a mass of wood, mixing it with the condensed teacup wood he carried overhead. The smoldering had long died out, and ashy wood remained. Splitting the imperfections from the two masses was child’s play. Ash, dust, dirt, mold, rot—he removed and discarded it all, producing perfect wood.

  He then walked back to the teacups ride and replaced the burnt-down section of the ride. It was back up and running in less than an hour.

  “Dad?” Annie asked.

  He turned. “Yeah?”

  “You’ve done everything you can. I think it’s time to rest, like Eve suggested.”

  “I will,” he replied softly, “but there’s one last thing I need to do first.” He walked ahead, his family one step behind.

  At the far end of the Stormcorsair Harbor, Whirlpool Tavern served guests and acted as both a theater show and the ride entrance for Whirlpool Plunge. The tavern sold all sorts of drinks, a few small food dishes, and it even had a small ice cream counter.

  When Luka walked in, he ignored all of that and instead scanned the drinking patrons. The air was strange. It was darker than normal, thicker than normal. The usual rambunctious chatter was muted and more reserved. Cigarette smoke wafted through the rafters and trailed from shadowy figures playing cards in the corner.

  Luka ignored all of it.

  A piano sat along the far wall. Usually it was reserved for the band the park hired for performances and general ambiance. But it was an off hour, no one should be playing it.

  But right now, there was.

  Luka stalked right up to the man playing. The man’s fingers paused, and after a beat, he turned.

  “Ahhhh,” the man cooed. “The World Walker finally decided to show up. You know, most would be fearful of making me wait—”

  “I’m not most men.”

  The City of Embers’ most notorious crime lord leaned back and regarded Luka. “I can see that. I also see that you’re steaming like an angry boiler. Why might that be?” He held up a scarred finger. “Actually, let me rephrase: what might I do to help quell your anger?”

  “I want to make a deal.”