Luka scratched his cheek. I need to shave, he thought, mentally measuring just how long his beard had gotten—not very. It was patchy, thin, but itchy. Boy was it itchy.

  He sipped his mug of jrum.

  And sipped again.

  His hand magnetized back to his cheek, scratching. This is getting annoying, he muttered internally.

  Standing behind the scenes in the Constellation Kingdom, Luka surveyed the section of land he was hoping to build on. He didn’t need much room—drop rides had a small footprint. In fact, most of the ride’s surface area would be dedicated to the line.

  “Monolith,” that was what he decided to name this ride. It would sit head on when entering the land, a weenie and a towering construct that would bring fear and thrill to all guests in the area.

  He got to work on the foundation. It consisted of a simple concrete square topped with polished stone that sunk two meters into the ground. He’d made such foundations dozens of times at this point—they had become second nature to the point that Luka hardly thought about what he was doing. Instead, he scratched his beard and flipped through his blueprints.

  “Blueprint A or B?” he mused, holding each at various angles and distances to gauge how exactly they’d look.

  Blueprint A was a rounded lift, a design that slowly rotated as it raised up. Every guest would have a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the park. Blueprint B was an elevator style drop, something that looked as though it was torn directly from an Earthen hotel.

  “Well,” he said to no one, “design A has to be the right choice.”

  With that, metal flew through the air like migrating birds. The ride was simple—incredibly simple. It was, pretty much, just a hollow tower with a track threaded around the outside. A gondola would be securely fashioned to it, and hydraulics, magnets, and air pressure would push it up into the sky and allow it to safely freefall before controlling its stop.

  The tower was built within minutes.

  And most of that time was Luka stressing over just how high he wanted it to go. Compared to Ressen, the tower was… small. Incredibly so. The young World Tree reached into the upper atmosphere, while the tower heralded over the tree line by a good seventy meters.

  Luka designed the gondola on the ground, opting to test several designs. Just how would the chairs connect to the tower? What kind of restraints would keep guests in? How would it spin while going up, but not while rushing down? Did he add light glyphs? What about illusionary? And maybe most importantly, just how did magnets work? Well, magical magnets.

  “Sol? Eve? Anyone here yet?”

  There was no reply.

  Luka scratched his itchy face. “Where is everyone?”

  With his mug in hand, he departed the ride and entered the park through one of the many entrances/exits hidden behind countless illusions. He emerged through a mundane door that looked like a red-stone wall to the guests.

  He crossed the Constellation Kingdom, bypassing the alien rock structures that looked like trees and/or bolts of crackling lightning. He momentarily checked a particular glyph etched into the ground near one of the thematic research laboratory gift shops—many guests walked over it, and sometimes it was scuffed out and not working. A quick fix later, and a gentle sickly green mist wafted below a metal footbridge leading over a miniature ravine.

  Luka briefly paused while on the bridge, turned around, and inspected the bones of the drop tower. It was perfectly centered with the end of the pathway—an attraction to draw the eye and beckon guests further along.

  “Looks good,” he muttered, sipping his jrum.

  A hop, skip, and jump later, and Luka was crossing the “village” portion of the park and exiting through the main gates. They were closed, the park wasn’t open yet, but that didn’t stop guests from lining up early. Only a few dozen queued so far, but the sun hadn’t even been up for an hour yet. The park wouldn’t open for a while more, so Luka had no doubts the number of guests would continue to increase.

  A smile crossed his lips when he spotted Vale. The eldritch-god-alien-thing was maneuvering around the waiting guests, holding a tray of assorted small pastries. “A token of thanks for our most loyal guests,” she said, smiling big and bright. This had become a morning tradition for her, an idea she came up with all by herself. She took her job as a park greeter very seriously.

  Guests took one or two pastries, happily munching down while Iop—the resident baker of the village—poured mugs of her famous jrum. Some would venture over to Iop’s shop once they ran dry or finished their last bites, eager to buy seconds of everything. It might have been a loss leader, but the park could afford something as small as free breakfast for these few guests.

  “Hey! Mr. World Walker, are you opening the park early?” someone shouted once they noticed him.

  Luka instantly veered, walking over to the waiting guests. “Nope! I’m looking for some friends of mine to help make sure we open with a new attraction today.”

  A collective gasp sounded from the small crowd. “You’re building something new? What’s it going to be?”

  He gave a sly smile. “Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it? I can’t be spoiling the surprise for you all.”

  “Well at least tell us what kind of ride it will be!”

  Chuckling, Luka said, “A thrill ride. Maybe even the most thrilling the park has seen so far. It will be in the Constellation Kingdom and is called ‘Monolith.’”

  “Monolith?” someone asked. “Ain’t that the big rectangle thing in Whirlpool Plunge?”

  He blinked, taken aback. “Yes, actually. You saw the connection from just the name?”

  “Sure. I mean, was I not supposed to?”

  “No—you were. I just had to explain it to my friends who are supposed to be helping me right now.”

  The guest grunted pridefully. “I hope I’d make the connection. I’ve been here every day since I bought my season ticket.”

  “Me too!” someone else yelled.

  “Me three!” another echoed.

  Again, Luka was surprised. “You all are pass holders and have been coming every day?”

  “I come every other day,” another added. “My sister comes once a week.”

  “That’s amazing, I had no idea people came so often,” he said. Pausing, Luka thought over how he could do something nice for these people—something more than free breakfast. “Hey Vale?”

  The greeter looked over from her conversation with a mother and her son. “Hmm?” she asked.

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  “Can you get all these people’s names? I’m going to get them something special.”

  Vale’s demonic red eyes sparkled. “Special how?”

  “They come early, some come daily. I think inviting them into the park early for a few private rides of Monolith would be special, right?”

  “I couldn't agree more—"

  Another gasp sounded from the guests. “You mean that?” someone shouted.

  “Sure, why not?” Luka said. “You all are incredible, and I think it’s time to show some appreciation.” He turned to Vale. “So, can you get all their names written down? Also, do you know where Eve and Sol are?”

  “No need for me to write them down, I’ve got them all memorized.”

  He recoiled. “Really?”

  “Oh sure,” someone said. “Vale’s been talking to us for weeks. She knows everyone in our Early Walkers club.”

  “’Early Walkers?’” Luka asked. “You all made a club for showing up early?”

  “Why not? You come here enough times early, and you make friends. Why not just officialize it?”

  A great smile fluttered onto his lips. “In that case, how about this: whenever the park has a new attraction, the Early Walkers can come in early for a private opening.”

  The guest smirked. “Now you’re just showing off.”

  Luka laughed. They joked back and forth a few times before he turned back to Vale. “So, Eve and Sol?”

  “Those Guild mages were here earlier,” Vale explained. “They were talking with Sol about something before Eve came over and yelled at them to leave her aunt alone. The conversation went as you’d expect, and everyone entered the park, Eve and Sol leading the way.”

  In an instant, Luka knew where his friends were. “Thanks, Vale,” he said, turning on his heel and power walking away.

  That power walk turned into a jog once he was out of view of the guests, then a dead sprint.

  He hoped he wasn’t too late.

  ***

  “—and I don’t care! Our contract states very clearly that we are to have a plot of land wherever we want in the park!” shouted Mage Whitiker from outside the park’s illusionary walls.

  Luka grimaced and sped up. He pushed through glyph work, finding the trio of Guild mages, Eve, and Sol. The two villagers had their arms crossed and were staring down their noses at the intruders with their chins held high. The mages, on the other hand, smirked like devilish cats, clearly amused.

  Eve saw Luka first and visibly relaxed. “There he is.” She gestured wildly, almost as if fighting invisible ghosts. “Your plan didn’t work, Whitiker. So why don’t you pack up and leave?”

  Upon finding the approaching World Walker, Whitiker froze, his face stuck in a shade of horror. A dozen heartbeats passed before he thawed, and when he did, he swallowed, set his shoulders, and adjusted his fluted shirt collar. Then he turned to Luka.

  “Ahh, World Walker. How nice it is to see you this morning—”

  “Save it, Whitiker.” Luka ignored the man’s reaction and turned to Eve. “What’s going on?”

  Sol smiled to herself and allowed her niece to take the reins—this was going to be good.

  Eve didn’t waste any time and got down to accusations. “Whitiker and his cronies ambushed Sol and I on our way to help you this morning. He thrust sacks upon stacks of contractional paper at us, saying we were in violation of the agreement you signed yesterday and that we—Sol and I—needed to fix it post haste.”

  Whitiker was sweating. “Now, now. Let’s not get—”

  She talked right over him. “Then, when we said no, Whitiker threatened us, the park, you, and my brother with breach of contract. He said we would be behind bars in the fortnight and not see the light of day for several generations. I guess that Guild takes contracts seriously—so seriously, in fact, that he refused to show us the contract you signed yesterday because it was a ‘Guild secret’ and we were not privy to it.”

  Whitiker quickly said, “We made no threats—”

  “And once we tried to leave, the cronies attempted to magically keep us from leaving!” Eve’s green skin was visibly turning red as she continued to spit molten iron. “Sol had to step in with a counter spell, blasting the area and danger magics! Someone could’ve gotten hurt!”

  “No one was in danger,” Sol calmly said, mainly to Luka and not her niece. It was important that he understood the true situation, not just the anger-filled one.

  If Eve heard, she didn’t care. Instead, she continued, “And why did all of this happen? Well, it took twenty minutes of arguing with Mage Whitiker to get the answer! Apparently, he thinks we should stop everything we’re doing and start construction on the Guild’s building and the surrounding themed land! This completely ignores the fact that we—Sol and I—had no idea about any of this and just woke up!”

  She panted, her hair draping down her face. Forcing herself to breathe, Eve adjusted herself and glared at the source of her anger.

  Luka pursed his lips. “I see.” He was about to say more, but—

  Whitiker opened his mouth, and without any shame, said, “Exactly. Now you know what we’ve been dealing with. These two… ne’er-do-wells have impeded our contract. See to a rectification, World Walker, because the Guilds will be hearing about this infraction.”

  Silence.

  It was so silent in fact that Luka could hear Eve’s raging heartbeat from paces away.

  He rolled his artifact ring around his finger. What was the point in keeping the Guilds around? he wondered. The simple answer was that they had connections to sellers, harvesters, growers, collectors, and various other types of people who had access to alchemy reagents, rare or not. Besides that fact, Luka, Tram, and Sol originally decided to keep the Guilds close, instead of leaving them with their own designs to harass park guests and employees. They were a thorn, one that they thought could be dulled.

  Evidently, the whole bush needed to be pruned.

  Luka took a deep breath.

  Then another.

  Finally, he spoke.

  “Mage Whitiker: under section nine, subsection five, paragraph B, clause four of our original contractual agreement with regards to the basic illusionary glyph Sol brought and explained to the Guilds, and pursuant to clause twenty-one, I, World Walker Luka, hereby terminate our agreement and move to immediately strike all working relationships with the Guilds, its people, and all independent contractors. In doing so, I formally terminate our contract from yesterday. And since we did not include a termination clause, but the agreement was in series with our first agreement, I’m stipulating that the same causation and resolutions apply.”

  Whitiker’s eyes widened.

  “Furthermore, you have assaulted park employees this morning with deadly magic. And I don’t know much about the Kingdom of Ember’s laws regarding the punishments for such a terrible act, but I want you to know that I will be seeking reparations from the full weight of the law directly from the highest order itself. You, Whitiker, will see direct punishment, along with the two cronies you have behind you. We will also seek punitive damage from the Guilds.”

  Luka spared a moment to check out the cronies’ reactions. They were terrified, exactly as he suspected.

  In that brief moment of pause, Whitiker found his feet and said, “You can’t do this! You are breaking countless laws and threatening me with fake allegations! I will have you punished—”

  Luka held up a hand. “You’re absolutely right. I don’t know the laws of this kingdom. But I can read a contract and let me just say this: the contracts from Earth are infinitely more detestable, subtle, actionable, and cunning. What does that mean for you and the Guilds? It means I know what I am doing. You screwed this relationship up, exactly like we all thought you would. Did you not think we’d be ready for this?”

  “But—” Whitiker practically growled. “As you said, you do not know this kingdom’s laws. This can still turn around, all this nonsense can be forgotten.”

  “No.”

  “But! The law!”

  “I already told you. I will seek confirmation and assistance from the highest order this kingdom possesses: the royal family. You do know that Princess Alexandra is staying in the park, right? Yes—of course you do, you’re not stupid.” Luka took a breath to smile. “But did you know that last night, under the watchful eyes of God Neb himself, the princess, me, and several park employees had a jolly good night together. Laughing. Playing cards. Making friends. Developing relationships.”

  Whitiker and his cronies gaped.

  “So,” Luka continued, “unless you want to murder Eve, Sol, and I, you will not go unpunished. All three of you. Deadly magic usage? Threats?”

  “Y-you have no proof!” cried Whitiker.

  “Do I not?”

  “It’s their word versus ours! And we are mages of the Guilds! Our word holds weight.”

  Luka chuckled, eerily calm. “Add perjury to this list.”

  “You have no evidence we did any of what you are alleging!”

  The World Walker craned his head to the side, peering around the mage leader. “Either of you two want to be our witness? There’s only need for one of you, so first to volunteer gets to go unpunished. You won’t even be mentioned when we speak to the inquisitors overseeing our case, in fact, you’ll be heralded as incredibly helpful.”

  Whitiker spun on his heel, his finger out straight. Before he could so much as point at the cronies, the one on the right scoffed, pushed the stack of papers into Whitiker’s arms, and stomped over to Luka’s side.

  “I witnessed Mage Whitiker attack these two fine park employees,” the crony said firmly. “It was terrible, deadly magic. I can only imagine what would have happened if Mystic Sol did not interfere.”

  “Excellent,” Luka said. “Shall we send a message to Sneerhome’s inquisitors and Princess Alexandra? We might even get this situation resolved before lunch!”

  Whitiker wobbled, his knees weak. He tumbled forward—no one moved to catch him.

  Eve giggled.