Nathan grabbed Bree and ran toward the door. He smashed his way through a hedge that had spontaneously appeared in front of it, and they tumbled outside.

  The good news was that they were miles away from the survivor camp.

  The bad news was that they were now completely without backup and about to face down a gigantic living hedge maze.

  "It's still alive!?" Bree shouted. "I thought removing the thorn would kill it or something!"

  "It's not like the second dungeon boss," Nathan replied. "The thorn wasn't its core. It was just something the maze guarded. And now it's back to try to reclaim it."

  Around them, the ground shook. Roots erupted from the soil, and hedges burst through the concrete.

  "If it doesn't have a core, how are we supposed to defeat it?" Bree asked.

  "I have no idea," Nathan said.

  A dozen roots shot from the hedge in front of Nathan, aiming for his head. He ducked, grabbed his harpoon, and sliced through them with a single swing.

  "Where did it even come from? How did it find us?" Bree demanded.

  "The voice. The wanderers. It led them to our location," Nathan said through gritted teeth.

  "Typical." Bree slammed her fist against the ground.

  Earth spikes erupted from the concrete, driving into the hedges. Unfortunately, it wasn't very effective. All she managed was to carve a few holes in the massive hedge.

  "Is this the part where we run?" Bree asked.

  "Running sounds like a good idea," Nathan said.

  He took a step back, but something rumbled behind him. He turned to see the hedge maze had already blocked their escape route.

  "Shit," Nathan muttered.

  "I don't suppose you can just blow all of this away?" Bree suggested.

  "I'm low on energy," Nathan said. "I'd rather avoid that if possible."

  "Well, I hope you figure something out soon, because I'm fresh out of ideas," Bree said.

  Nathan's mind raced.

  Lightning? No, I don't have control over it yet. What's a stiff breeze going to do against killer plants?

  Nathan had only one option.

  "Bree, I need your help," Nathan said. "I'm going to use a trick, but I need time to charge it up. Can you protect me?"

  Bree nodded firmly. "How much time do you need?"

  "As much as you can give me," Nathan replied, already closing his eyes to focus.

  Bree's expression hardened with determination. "I can do that." She stomped her foot, and a circular wall of earth rose around them, creating a temporary barrier.

  The roots immediately began hammering against the earthen shield. Cracks appeared within seconds.

  "Work fast," Bree grunted, reinforcing the wall with another layer of stone and dirt. She raised her hands, and more earth spikes shot outward from their protective circle, buying them precious seconds.

  Nathan concentrated, drawing the water particles from the air. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he gathered his remaining energy. The familiar sensation of salt water tingled in his lungs.

  A root punched through the barrier, nearly impaling Nathan's shoulder. Bree sliced it with a blade of compressed earth.

  "Almost there?" she asked, her voice strained from exertion.

  "Almost," Nathan whispered.

  Their protective circle was disintegrating fast. Bree created a secondary shield, then a third, each one thinner than the last as her own energy reserves depleted.

  "Nathan, whatever you're doing, do it now!"

  "Basic Maelstrom," he whispered.

  Water exploded into a swirling tornado around him. The roots were shredded to pieces. Nathan shut his eyes, focusing on channeling as much power into the ability as he could. The maelstrom grew in speed and intensity, spinning faster and faster. Something clicked inside him, and the maelstrom erupted outward.

  Concrete was shredded. Buildings collapsed. Rubble flew in every direction. The hedge maze tried to retreat, but the maelstrom expanded too quickly. It consumed everything—the ground beneath him, the buildings around him. Nothing was spared.

  The air was thick with the scent of salt. All Nathan could hear was the roar of an ocean storm.

  Then, it was over. The maelstrom vanished, and Nathan fell. He hit the ground with a loud thud, landing in the center of a massive crater.

  He couldn't move. Pain radiated from his feet to his forehead. Gritting his teeth, he focused on opening a portal to his soul-bound town.

  The ground shifted, and Bree poked her head out of the dirt. "Nathan?"

  "In four minutes," he said, his voice strained, "a portal will open to my soul-bound town. When it does, get me inside and find medical help. They should be able to fix me up."

  "You have a soulbound town?" Bree gave a little fist pump. “I knew it!”

  "I know, I know. We’ll talk about it—" Nathan hissed in pain. "—later. For now, just do what I asked. Please."

  Bree nodded. "I will."

  Nathan turned his attention back to opening the portal. "Oh, and please don’t use this as a chance to move the entire survivor camp into my town, okay? Someone already pulled that once, and if it happens again, I’m going to crack and go insane."

  Bree tilted her head. "Okay…?"

  The portal flickered to life. Nathan’s vision began to darken at the edges.

  "Ah, crap…"

  And then he knew no more.

  The sun had begun its descent behind the peculiar buildings as Anand trudged home.

  Two weeks. Two weeks trapped in this bizarre corner of the Nine Circles, surrounded by creatures he would have considered targets or obstacles in his previous life.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  The Harrowed Hand wasn’t a big fan of other species. Everyone else was an enemy, right?

  So what on earth was Anand doing?

  In his pocket, the drawing remained, as heavy a weight he’d ever carried.

  As he approached the work dormitory, Anand noticed extra light spilling from the windows, and muffled sounds from within. He slowed his pace, quieted his footsteps, and reached for the concealed blade in his boot.

  He pushed the door open cautiously.

  "SURPRISE!"

  The room erupted with cheers and howls. Werewolves and mushroom folk crowded the small living space. A crudely painted banner hung across the wall: "TWO WEEKS WITHOUT QUITTING!"

  Bricks stepped forward. "You made it two whole weeks.”

  Garro, one of the werewolves, clapped Anand on the shoulder. "And here we thought you'd be gone by day three! You humans usually can't handle the heavy lifting!"

  Anand's hand relaxed away from his hidden blade. He stood in the doorway, mouth slightly open, unable to form words.

  "I..."

  A mushroom woman named Spore pushed through the small crowd. "It's tradition! Anyone who survives Bricks' impossible standards for two weeks gets celebrated."

  "Don't just stand there," Bricks said, pushing a mug of something frothy into Anand's hands. "Drink."

  The liquid was bitter, but warmed his chest. Anand found himself being pulled into the room, passed between groups of workers. Garro boasted about a beam he'd carried single-handedly. Trem, a slender mushroom man, demonstrated how he'd learned to climb scaffolding faster than anyone else.

  "What about you, Anand?" someone called. "Got any special skills besides hammering nails?"

  His first instinct was to deflect, to remain unmemorable.

  He paused.

  "I'm decent with projectiles."

  Minutes later, they'd set up a makeshift target on the wall. Anand picked up three darts, weighing them in his palm. The room quieted.

  He threw the first—dead center. The second—touching the first. The third—splitting the second dart down the middle.

  The room exploded with cheers. Garro howled. Several mushroom folk's caps lit up in bright colors.

  "Where'd you learn that?" Trem asked, eyes wide.

  Anand's lips tightened. "My previous employment required accuracy."

  The hours passed. Anand found himself answering questions about the world before the Nine Circles. He listened to stories about construction mishaps, transformation accidents, and cultivation techniques.

  His face felt strange. It took him a moment to realize he was smiling.

  As the celebration wound down and the last guests departed, he found himself alone with Bricks. The mushroom man collected plates, humming a work song from the site.

  "You didn't have to do this," Anand said.

  "Course I did. It's tradition."

  "No, not just the party. Taking me in. Giving me work." Anand picked at a splinter in the table. "You don't even know me."

  Bricks set down the plates and turned. "Don't I?"

  A muscle in Anand's jaw tightened.

  "I know enough," Bricks said. “I know you were part of the coup against Zayen."

  Anand's fingers curled against the table edge. "What are you talking about?"

  "A human with your skills, appearing out of nowhere right after the upheaval? The pieces fit."

  Anand's mind raced. It looks like he didn’t know about Anand’s connection to the Harrowed Hand… but still…

  "If you know who I am," Anand said carefully, "then why didn't you turn me in?"

  Bricks snorted. "To who? Nathan?" He shook his speckled head. "Remember what I told you last week by the eastern foundation? You're my brother now. We've both sweat under the same sun, and you're a good man."

  "You can't know that."

  "I've met my share of both kinds. Bad ones don't stay late to make sure old Garro doesn't throw his back out moving stone blocks. And they certainly don't put themselves between Trem and a falling scaffold."

  Anand stared at his hands. He'd acted on instinct that day—seen the rickety structure starting to collapse, calculated the trajectory, and moved before conscious thought. Just like he would to avoid a guard's detection or anticipate a target's movement.

  Just basic survival math. Nothing more.

  "But you don't know everything about me," Anand finally said.

  "Don't need to. I know enough."

  After Bricks retired to his room, Anand sat alone at the kitchen table.

  He got up and moved to the window, looking out at the moonlight playing across the roofs of the town. His reflection stared back.

  Behind it, he saw Trem's face as he pulled him from the scaffolding. Garro's appreciative nod when Anand had shouldered half his load without comment. The small mushroom child who had handed him a crude drawing this morning—"That's you," she'd said, pointing to a stick figure holding what might have been a hammer.

  He reached into his boot and withdrew the slender dagger. The blade caught the moonlight, reflecting it onto the ceiling.

  He'd spent years learning exactly where to place this blade to end a life efficiently.

  He slid it back into his boot, fingers lingering on the hilt before letting go.

  His hand, resting on his knee, curled into a fist, then slowly relaxed.

  "And I told him to shove it up his root system!" Spore burst out laughing at herself. “Can you believe it?”

  Anand let out a snort. "And then what happened?"

  "Well, you see, he wasn't exactly happy about that…"

  Anand let his mind drift as he listened to Spore rattle off her story. They were in the cafeteria, surrounded by the rest of their work crew. It had been a long day of hard labor, and they were enjoying some well-earned leisure time.

  Anand had made progress on his own plans, as well. If Nathan was killed, Anand would be able to force open a portal for a brief period of time. Of course, Anand wouldn’t risk an attempt except under extraordinary circumstances, but it was still an interesting thought.

  "Hey, watch out!"

  A flicker of silver. Something was heading straight for Anand's head. Old instincts flared, and he dodged to the right, smoothly catching the object.

  He flipped it around and instinctively returned fire, hurling it back at whoever had thrown it.

  At the last second, he realized it wasn’t a knife but a nail.

  He adjusted his throw, embedding the nail about an inch from the mushroom guy's head.

  There was a beat of silence.

  Spore, the mushroom woman, blinked. “What the…?”

  Anand opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it again. "I… uh, I was a… juggler."

  Spore stared at him, eyes wide. "Juggling gave you the ability to catch a nail midair and throw it back?"

  "Yes," Anand said. “I was very good at what I did.”

  Bricks opened his mouth, clearly about to say something, when the cafeteria door slammed open.

  "Nathan Lee!" the werewolf announced. "He's back! And he's injured!"

  Bricks turned toward the newcomer. "What? Are you sure?"

  "Yes…" The person breathed heavily, sweat dripping down their brow. "They're calling the Council."

  Bricks frowned and nodded. "I'll be there in a moment."

  He’s injured?

  This was the opportunity Anand had been waiting for. If he could get into the room where Nathan was being healed…

  "Can I come with you?" Anand blurted out.

  Bricks looked back at him. "…Why?"

  "I’m… just so grateful to Nathan for everything he’s done for this town. I wanted to wish him well."

  Bricks was about to respond when a werewolf beside him nodded.

  "Why don’t you let him, Bricks?" Garro said. "He’s outperformed everyone on the crew, even though he’s still technically injured. I think he deserves a reward."

  A mushroom woman beside the werewolf also nodded. "I agree. Anand deserves this, if that’s what he wants."

  Various murmurs of agreement echoed from the rest of the crew. Bricks held up his hand. "I hear you. That’s fine."

  A cheer erupted from the work crew.

  Anand felt his stomach sink. He suppressed the feeling and shoved it to the back of his mind. He had a job to do.

  Bricks and Anand exited the work building and headed toward the lord’s mansion.

  "I really hope he’s okay," Bricks said. "We need him."

  Anand’s mouth went dry. "Would it really be that bad?"

  "Would it be that bad?" Bricks shook his head. "I don’t think you understand what it was like before he came here."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Before Nathan inherited this town, we were living in shacks. And we were trapped—there was no chance of escaping. Nathan changed all that. He built this town into the home it is today. And more than that, he gave us hope."

  "Of escaping the Circles…"

  "Exactly."

  Anand didn’t respond. The conversation died.

  Before long, they reached the mansion. It was about three-quarters completed, gleaming white with marble everywhere. One of the largest buildings in the town square.

  Two guards at the front gate stopped them.

  "Minister Bricks," one guard nodded. "Who’s your companion?"

  "He’s a friend. Can we be allowed through?"

  The two guards exchanged glances. The one who’d spoken looked back at Bricks. "Can you vouch for this man?"

  "Of course. He’s a trusted member of my personal work crew."

  The guards stepped aside.

  It’s for the mission. It’s for the mission. It’s for the mission.

  Strangely, no matter how many times Anand repeated the mantra, it didn’t seem to help.

  They walked through the mansion’s interior, red carpet and various marks of luxury adorning every inch. Paintings, vases…

  "They really went all out for this guy’s place," Anand remarked.

  "Of course. Like I said, the people love him."

  They arrived at the end of the hall. Bricks knocked on the door. It opened, revealing a few other ministers.

  Fuge—Nathan’s marshal—was the one who answered. She nodded at Bricks and opened the door fully. She looked at Anand with a raised eyebrow. Bricks held up his hand.

  "I know what you’re going to say. He’s with me."

  Fuge frowned but stepped aside, allowing both of them into the room.

  Nathan was facing away from the door, bedridden, his head tilted toward an elderly mushroom man. The two were speaking in quiet, hushed tones.

  This was it. This was Anand’s moment. He would kill Nathan here.

  Anand’s hand shook. It would be so easy. He had dozens of hidden daggers in his clothes. Just one strike to a vital organ. Nathan was already injured; he wouldn’t escape in time…

  "Anand?" Bricks said. "Are you okay?"

  Anand shut his eyes. After a few seconds, he snapped them open.

  "Lord Nathan," he said. "I wish to speak with you."

  Nathan perked up and turned his head. When he saw Anand, his eyes widened.

  It was now or never.

  Anand knew what he had to do.

  Liam Lawless | i write books and stuff | Patreon