Gwil adjusted his hold on Challe’Jade so that her arms were locked down. “Hmmm,” he said, looking around. “Where should we go?”

  Challe’Jade bit Gwil’s ear and ripped it partway off, which caused Gwil to squeal and drop her. She scrambled across the ground, moving like a spider with all her limbs.

  Gwil dove and grabbed her by the ankle. With his other hand, he pressed his palm over his dangling ear. It was hot to the touch as Nirva healed the torn flesh.

  Challe’Jade twisted herself against Gwil’s grip and threw two handfuls of sand into his face. “Go back to the hell you came from, demon!”

  Gwil pinned her down beneath his knee and wrangled three of her wrists. The two extra arms did not come from beneath her normal ones, rather they came out of her shoulder blades, like wings. Their joints provided fuller movement than a normal shoulder, which Gwil learned as she smacked him across the face with her fourth hand.

  The stones in her flesh glowed bright green and he could feel her Nirva flowing as they struggled. She was definitely Hallowed—he’d been right about that.

  Gwil surged his own Nirva against hers and overpowered her with little effort. Sheriff Jackson had done the same thing to him when they first fought.

  As Challe’Jade’s Nirva receded in terror, he got the sense of her essence—strong, volatile, but thin as a cloud. She might have been the source of these incredible storms, but she didn’t know how to fight.

  Gwil immobilized her in a bear hug and then stood. “Ha! We’ll just go right back up that hole. They won’t expect that.”

  “Where is your horde?” Challe’Jade spat.

  “My what?”

  “Your army. Your masters would not send three lowly demons to infiltrate our haven.”

  “You are so stupid,” Gwil said. “We’re not demons! We don’t have masters and there’s no horde. It’s just the three of us here. I’m gonna take you outside and show you that you’re wrong about the World.”

  Challe’Jade cackled. “You’ve come here alone? Scouts, I suspect. I have nothing to fear, then. You’re as good as dead. Your body will burn, and you will only be able to lament your failure to convey our location to your masters.”

  Gwil carried her over to the pile of bodies heaped below the hole in the ceiling. Leira had done a number on them—the slumbering warriors were stacked higher than Gwil’s head.

  He stuck his boot into a fleshy crevice and climbed the heap. A tremendous bang came from the far end of the auditorium. Screams, pounding footsteps, the clatter of weaponry.

  Challe’Jade laughed in her sinister way again. “Your companions will be slaughtered. Go help them, if you have a heart, you scum-sucking monster.”

  “Nah, they’ll be fine. Up we go.”

  He jumped upward from the top of the pile and rose through the hole, landing on the edge of the broken floor tiles.

  “Ooh, wow!” Gwil said, getting a better look at the atrium now that things were less chaotic. He spun in place, taking it all in.

  An intricate mess of waterways crisscrossed overhead. The space was immense, lit by thousands of torches, layer upon layer of constructs, brimming with vegetation and flowing water that almost sparkled. The structures were formed of soft-white sandstone, accented with blues and greens.

  Gwil jumped, startled, when his vision was filled by a huge statue of a man looming over them. They’d landed right at its foot. It was two stories tall, depicting a fancy-type robed figure wearing a feline skull on his head. The cat’s jaws framed his face.

  He climbed up the statue and sat down on top of its head.

  “Get down from there!” Challe’Jade yelped. “Do not sit on the Elder Warden!”

  From this vantage, Gwil could better see the mosaics that adorned many of the walls and ceilings. The imagery was familiar to him. Mayor Guice and a few of the other townsfolk were practitioners of some ancient religion that had local roots. The aesthetics of this temple looked quite similar to the artifacts that his old neighbors possessed.

  “This place is amazing,” Gwil said.

  “I’d be jealous, too, if I lived in the sulfuric pits beneath the Ringed City,” Challe’Jade said.

  “Where’d everyone go?” Gwil asked as he climbed down from the top of the statue. The atrium had been brimming with activity earlier—and not just warriors, but ordinary folk, too.

  Challe’Jade scoffed. “Every single person in Malikau is either trying to kill you or hiding from you. And stop being so… pleasant. What even is this?”

  “Hey, Challe’Jade. Would you rather I call you Challe or Jade?”

  “Don’t call me anything!” she said with a spasm of effort against Gwil’s hold.

  He gave her a Nirva-boosted squeeze. She shuddered and went still.

  “I’ll call you Challe, since the jade thing is just because of that bird statue, right?”

  “It is not just a statue,” Challe wailed. “It is a conduit of the goddess’s power that I embody.”

  “Okay, would you prefer Jade, then?” Gwil asked as he strolled through the atrium. They passed a pool full of little brown fish and orange crustaceans.

  “No, I would not pref- Argh!”

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Gwil grinned at her. “Now where? Do you have any friends you wanna bring along?”

  “Stop talking to me!”

  “I guess we’ll just go out the way we came in… Uhh… Oh right, the weird temple. Where was that?”

  “What temple?” Challe asked.

  “Wait! You guys called it the Oubliette. What’s up with that? My last name is Oubliette.”

  “You came from the Oubliette? Goddess, forgive us, of course! How could we be so foolish? You opened a portal? More of you will pour through?”

  Gwil swatted away those words. “I’m done talking to you about that stuff. You’re too stubborn. You’ll just have to see for yourself.”

  Gwil spun in place until he spotted the section of balcony that Cort had jumped down from. He climbed up onto a pedestal and then jumped up using a spurt of Nirva.

  Upon landing, Gwil burst out laughing. The giant stone block—the one that had nearly crushed them—filled the hallway, leaving it impassable. “I forgot about that. Hmm.” Gwil could make it through there easily if he shrank, of course, but that was no good if he wanted to bring Challe along.

  “Where’s a different exit?” he asked, but a boom of thunder drowned his question. Gwil hadn’t noticed through all the commotion, but the storm was still raging. The conditions outside must have been insane. Even though they were dozens of meters underground, the thunderclaps were as loud as any he’d ever heard, and the rain pounded as if the bedrock above was a pane of glass.

  “Why’s the storm still going? You should turn that off so I can show you the outside.”

  “The Gracestorm endures! The goddess prevails! My power has birthed the storm, but now it belongs to the sky. Malikau will not fall without a fight, demon.”

  “We’ll just keep going up, then,” Gwil said. He stepped onto the balcony’s railing and leapt up to the third level. It looked like some sort of market, with row upon row of wooden stands.

  “Woah,” Gwil said, peeking under a tarp, which hid a bunch of apples. He took one and started eating it. “Where do you guys get all this stuff if you’re trapped in this pit?”

  “The goddess provides,” Challe said.

  “Really? Cool. I didn’t know gods worked that way.” He took another bite of his apple. “Tell me the way out. If you don’t, I’ll bust through the roof.”

  “No!” Challe shrieked. Gwil dropped her at the burst of Nirva that she released. But she did not try to run away. Instead, she went up on her knees and grabbed him by the collar. “If you insist you are not a demon, that you’re benevolent, prove it to me. To open a wound in this temple is to see Malikau flooded and destroyed. When the Gracestorm reaches its peak, its capacity for destruction is boundless.”

  Gwil laughed. “Challe, it’s your storm. It’s your Invoke. Just make it stop.”

  “I already told you it has outgrown me. And saying things like that only reinforces my belief that you are a demon. Why would you want the Gracestorm to end if not to enable your horde’s invasion?”

  Gwil tugged down on both of his cheeks. “You’re impossible. If you think we came through a portal, the storm wouldn’t even be doing anything useful.”

  “I know nothing of your methods, demon,” Challe said. “I must consider every possibility.”

  As Gwil gaped at her, pulling even harder on his cheeks, Challe took her chance to run for it.

  Gwil’s hand flashed as he caught the bicep of her rear-mounted left arm. She attacked him with the other three. Gwil allowed her to beat on him for a bit. He focused his Nirva into his head. Her fists landed like soft rolls of bread.

  Challe wore herself out—her breath went ragged; her strikes became weak and aimless.

  “Done?” Gwil said, smiling. “Listen. It really seems like you’re letting yourself be tortured to death in service of a shitty lie. I can’t stand that. So, I’m gonna stay here until you see the truth, and then you can do whatever you want. Go nail yourself to that crucifix again if you decide that’s best.

  “But the World has not ended, and you are not the last humans. I promise. Please, let me show you. There’s no reason for you to die for something fake and pointless.”

  Challe’s lips curled and quivered. Tiny crackles of green lightning sparked in her gray irises. The jadestones embedded in her skin glowed. She said nothing.

  “If you see those things are true,” Gwil said. “Then that proves it’s all bullshit, right? All this crazy stuff that you’ve been made to believe.”

  Challe bit down on her lower lip, hard enough that it looked painful. “I will accompany you, demon. If only to keep an eye on you.”

  “Cool. Thanks,” Gwil said. “Okay, who’s in charge of this place? Are you in charge?”

  “Of course not,” Challe said. “I’m the Vessel. His High Holiness, Tezca the Elder Warden is our ruler.”

  “Are you serious? Alright, this is probably his fault. Where is he?”

  “I’m obviously not going to tell you that,” Challe said. “I told you I’d come with you—not that I’d turn traitor.”

  Gwil looked past her, his eyes tracing a small boat-shaped thing that was floating down a waterway. It drifted alongside them, carrying a couple of crates as it moved toward a massive downward slope.

  “Ooh!” Gwil scooped Challe up and then jumped onto the boat just as it reached the crest of the slide. He secured his footing as the craft lurched at the added weight and then…

  They plummeted. Water sprayed in a wave as the air rushed at their increasing speed. Gwil laughed at the exhilarating weightlessness. Challe’Jade’s ornate, beautiful headdress flew off her head.

  “Wahoo!”

  “Ahhhhhh!”

  They reached a dip, slowed as they ascended another slope, and then down again. This time, the waterway followed a winding curve. Gwil had to crouch low and lean inward so that they wouldn’t fall out.

  The little boat slowed along a flat stretch, bobbing in the water. Gwil hopped up onto the dock-like structure beside them.

  “Sorry about your hat,” Gwil said as he set Challe down on her feet. “But that was amazing! Wanna go again?”

  “No, I do not,” Challe snapped. “That is illegal and dangerous. Children and drunks get themselves maimed and killed playing that stupid game.”

  “I saw you smiling, though,” Gwil said. “Besides, you and I can’t be hurt. We’re Hallows.”

  “What? We are nothing alike, demon.”

  “Yes we are. We’re the same. You died before they put you on that crucifix, didn’t you?”

  Challe’s face fell slightly at that. “Yes. That is how the next Vessel is selected.”

  “Yeah, you’re not a vessel. You’re just a Hallow. You died and came back to life with powers. By the way, you could be way stronger. I guess they didn’t tell you anything about what you can do. Why do you think that is?”

  “Temptation will not work on me,” Challe said.

  Gwil shrugged. “I’m just telling you how it is. Making storms or whatever, that’s your Invoke. Look.”

  Pop. He shrank down to the size of a mouse, waved his arms around, and then grew back. “Mine is shrinking. There’s this, too.”

  Gwil held up his hand and snapped his pointer finger to the side so that it cracked and stuck out horizontally. He bent it back into place, gave it a pulse of Nirva, and wiggled it in Challe’s face. “We can heal from anything. That’s why the spikes in the crucifix didn’t hurt you. Look, the holes in your wrists have already healed. You don’t know what Nirva is?”

  “Shut up! Enough!” Challe said, stomping her foot. “It is no surprise a demon would possess magical powers. But you are nothing compared to the goddess.”

  Gwil eyed another small boat as it floated down the channel.

  “We’ll just ride around until we find this Warden. Let’s go.”

  Gwil scooped Challe up as she started to protest, then ran down the dock while cradling her in his arms. He caught up to the boat, jumped on, and they were off.

  “Hey, who’s your brother?” Gwil shouted over the rush.

  Challe stopped her wailing and looked up at Gwil, but did not respond. She picked at one of the jadestones in her arm like it was a scab.

  “I’ll help him, if you want. My friends and I will help all of you. You’re not the only one who’s stuck living this lie.”

  “My brother would’ve been leading the warriors you fought. He wears pure green and an eagle headdress in the goddess's image.”

  “Oh!” Gwil grinned down at her as their boat slowed down. “He’s alive and well! Or he was. Cort, maybe… Yeah! He’s fine.”

  Challe’s eyes flashed as she grabbed a fistful of Gwil’s shirt. “Quez is alive? You’re certain?”

  Gwil nodded. “I’m sure he didn’t get crushed by the block. I did stab him with a fork, but don’t worry.”