Jasper’s lungs were screaming by the time he breached the surface. He descended into a fit of coughing as he choked on stale, fetid air, but there still was enough oxygen in the air to ease the burning in his lungs and as he began to tread water, he felt Ihra stir.

  “Yeugh.” She spat out a mouthful of water before speaking. “How’d you get here?”

  “A couple minutes after you left, I was hit by this overwhelming feeling that I needed to check on you,” he replied, as he released her. “And, fortunately, I listened to my gut.”

  “Yeah,” she replied solemnly. "Got pretty lucky there." A shudder convulsed her body, and Ihra cast a worried glance at the depths beneath them, where what remained of the kelp’s strands had begun to writhe again. “We should probably get out of the water.”

  Jasper needed no convincing but, unfortunately, the only patch of dry land he saw was toward the back of the room, where a surprisingly large platform emerged from the water - and above it hovered a familiar blue orb. “Did that thing attack you?”

  “No. But it didn’t help me when the kelp grabbed me either.”

  Was it all a trick to lure Ihra to our death, or just a spot of bad luck?

  “Look out!” Ihra’s hand latched around his wrist and pulled him forward, but she wasn’t fast enough. He jerked to an abrupt stop as a slimy tendril wrapped around his ankle, binding him in place with surprising strength. A tug of war ensued as Ihra and he paddled trying to break free, but the kelp anchored him in place.

  Essence flooded his hands, but his flames, which were not fully waterproof, were quickly quenched, and as Jasper glanced down, he saw, to his horror, a dozen more strands wiggling through the water like a pack of eels on the hunt. But a glint of silver at his waist also caught his attention. The misericorde. He grabbed the dagger, hissing in pain as he scalded his hand, and doubling over, slashed it through the tendril. The water slowed his momentum, and the blade only cut partway through the strand before grinding to a halt against the kelp’s thick, fibrous sinews, and below him, he saw the approaching tendrils speed up.

  Flame Charge. Fueled by panic, the essence surged through him and, unlike his usual flames, the white-hot fire of the spell was not immediately quenched by the water. Dancing down the misericorde, the flames latched onto the damaged tendril and began to spread out.

  In an instant, the kelp forgot about him, releasing his leg as it diverted the approaching strands to beat out the rapidly advancing flames, but all it did was spread them. But Jasper didn’t stick around to watch; flipping back on his stomach, he and Ihra raced toward the platform without a second thought. Jasper still wasn’t sure if the orb was plotting to harm them, but if he had to fight something, he'd much rather fight on land.

  The cold stone scraped futilely against his hand as he grabbed hold of the platform and pulled himself. Keenly aware of the orb that was floating just a few feet away, he was already summoning his essence as he rolled to his feet, but he didn’t release the essence immediately.

  He held himself at the ready as he looked up at the orb, but the ball of light made no move against them. It blinked twice, as if acknowledging them, and then began its journey again, bobbing toward an open doorway behind them. “Well, crap.” Jasper sighed. “Guess we’re not done with this stupid quest.”

  As the realization that a fight was not imminent hit him, the burning in his hand from the misericorde resurfaced. With a curse, he dropped the dagger and used his foot to shove it over to Ihra, whose eyes lit up. “I thought I’d lost this for good.”

  "Unfortunately, I spotted it,” he replied drily. "You would think it would be grateful that I rescued it, but no, it had to burn me the whole way." He raised his hand, allowing the flames to ripple along his fingers, and fell silent as he finally got a good look at the room in which they stood. This was no cave. Though the walls were carved out of sheer stone, in the areas where the water hadn’t reached, the chamber was still decorated with lacquered and crumbling frescoes. The room was shaped roughly like a horseshoe, with a large U-shaped wall facing a rectangular podium near where the tunnel had exited. The hundreds of small, rounded boxes that protruded from the walls, extending from the bottom of the pit to at least two stories above them, solidified his guess as to the chamber's former purpose. It was an auditorium, and the platform on which they were standing, had once been the fourth floor balcony.

  “Where are we?” Ihra vocalized the question he’d been thinking, and Jasper shrugged helplessly.

  “Damned if I know. This had to have been a theatre, right? But what would something like this be doing in the middle of nowhere? Is there a lost city up here I'm not aware of?”

  “There’s Als?arratu.”

  “Yeah, but we’re nowhere near there,” Jasper pointed, frowning as he recalled the city Aphora had dragged them to. He hoped the place was nothing like that, but their adventures in Yar-Khennor, Als?arratu, and Nah?as?s?inu had not given him much reason for hope.

  “There’s probably other legends I’m not aware of,” she replied with a shrug. “This is my first time in these mountains too.”

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  “Eh, it was worth asking. Guess we have no choice but to keep going.” With a weary sigh, he turned away from the water and, now that they were on dry land, retrieved the glaive from his bag before heading toward the path the orb had disappeared on.

  The path turned out to be a short hall that quickly exited into a reception area far better preserved than the auditorium had been. The orb had paused on the far side of the chamber, but Jasper was in no rush to follow it. Willing a bit more flames into his hand, he examined the room with interest.

  Though the stairwell in the far corner was flooded, the majority of the floor had escaped water damage. Even some small patches of ancient red carpet still clung to the broken tiles in a remarkable testimony to their craftsmanship. But it was the frescoes that truly attracted Jasper’s attention.

  Unlike the ones outside, which had crumbled in the moist air until barely anything could be discerned of their original design, the panels in here were only lightly damaged, and as Jasper swept his gaze across them, he quickly noticed a unifying theme.

  “Why are all the people green?” The answer struck him even as he asked it. Are these the Children of St. Martin? But what the hell are they doing here?

  He stopped beside the nearest fresco, and leaned in, examining the figures closely. Human-sized, with fair features, slightly lengthened ears, and pale green skin - the portraits bore a marked resemblance to the Fey he had met. There were differences, too. The figures in the fresco sauntered through gilden cities, oozing with a baroque excess that seemed quite at odds with the simple travelers he’d met. Then again, they’d been refugees, and the golden cities certainly matched the tales he’d heard of the mighty Fey. But that still didn’t answer his question.

  “Jasper?” There was a troubled note in Ihra’s voice as she stopped beside him, her eyes glued to the same fresco he’d been examining. “What if we aren’t in the mountains at all?”

  “Huh?” He turned to her with a raised brow. “What do you mean? There’s no way that we traveled that far.”

  “By foot, no,” she agreed, “But what if the stairs,” she hesitated, reluctant to even voice the idea, and Jasper had a sudden, sinking feeling he knew what she was about to suggest. “What if the stairs were a portal?”

  No. He wanted to reject the idea emphatically. The idea that they’d stumbled into the reclusive Children’s realm was absurd. They’d passed through a portal before, and it had been like that. Yet, the rejection died on his tongue unspoken. What about the darkness, his mind reminded him. The darkness that resisted all light, and the stairs that stretched beyond all reason. Damn it.

  His head whipped and he glared at the orb. “Did you take us to another realm,” he demanded angrily. “How are we supposed to get back? And what about our friends?” A vision flitted through his head of a monster stumbling upon their sleeping bodies, and his worry exploded. “Screw it, we’re going back, even if we have to face that damned kelp again,” Jasper snapped, and spun on his heels. “We’ll find another way to wake them.”

  Jasper fell to the ground, clutching his eyes as the room exploded with light. He was utterly blinded as he rolled to his feet, but he still reached for his essence. If it was a fight the orb wanted, then a fight it would get.

  Please. The voice that echoed in his mind was shrill and distorted, as if it had heavy electronic interference. Will release friends if you stay. Need help.

  “You can talk?” His vision still hadn’t cleared, so Jasper could only glare angrily in the direction he thought the orb was.

  Not easy.

  “I don’t care if it’s easy. What do you want?”

  Trapped. Alone. Need help.

  “You were able to cast our friends under a spell pretty easily,” he pointed out. “I find it hard to believe you need any help from us.”

  Can’t move. But need help.

  His vision had begun to clear, and Jasper backpedaled quickly as he realized the orb was barely six inches away from his face. Putting his back to the wall, he glanced over to Ihra, who was still rubbing her eyes. “You hearing this?”

  “If by ‘hearing this’ you mean, hearing you talk to yourself then, yes. Is the orb communicating with you?”

  “Can’t you include her,” he asked the orb.

  Too hard, it responded and Jasper sighed. He was disinclined to help the orb, still fearing that it was all an elaborate trap, and yet curiosity gnawed at him. The cities of the Children of St. Martin were said to be wonders beyond compare and, even if this one was abandoned as it appeared, he could only imagine the treasures they might find. What’s the point of being an adventurer if you never go on an adventure?

  “The orb claims it’s trapped and needs our help. Says it will release our friends if we agree to help.”

  “It doesn’t look like trapped,” Ihra pointed out.

  Not body. Jasper frowned at the orb’s response. “I think it’s trying to say that’s not its body,” he clarified, and the orb blinked as if in agreement.

  Truthfully, he expected Ihra to object to the idea of helping the orb, but as her eyes drifted over to the exit pooled in darkness, a calculating look settled in. “If we’re right, and this is one of the cities of St. Martin, this is an opportunity of life. Think of what we might find out there.”

  Although he largely agreed with her, Jasper felt the need to be the voice of reason. “And think of what might kill us out there. If it’s abandoned, it’s probably for a reason.”

  “Not saying we should do it by ourselves, but if it releases our friends…”

  Catching her drift, Jasper turned back to the orb. “We might be willing to help - but only if you bring our friends here. We’re not taking on a city by ourselves.”

  Fine. Will wake. Bring here. The voice in his head sounded almost petulant, but the orb floated toward the flooded auditorium. You stay, it demanded, before disappearing into the darkness, leaving Jasper to question if they’d made the right decision.

  Or maybe, he realized in a moment of rare introspection, he just didn’t want to catch up to the army. Nah.