Chapter Text
“Come,” said Mas, striding into a building like he owned it. “You’re wounded, and Toran medicine is truly wondrous.”
The building had clearly been a house once, but someone had since turned it into their base of operations. Worn clothes and a smattering of weapons were piled in the grandiose entryway. Dry rations gave the fancy kitchen a smoky, earthy smell. A map of the Tor region hung amongst fine tapestries in the parlour, yellowed and heavily annotated.
Mas rummaged through one of the crates. “Bell and… Ah Meng, was it? Any serious injuries?”
“Just scratches,” said Ying, while Bell shook his head.
Mas tossed them some cloth and alcohol. Then he started mashing and mixing a few herbs in a pestle, beckoning Ais over with his free hand.
“Hm. Not bad for a stopgap.” Mas took a moment to appraise Ying’s handiwork before undoing it. “She could prove a valuable member.”
“Pardon?”
Mas handed Ais half of the herb concoction. “Dab that on your neck,” he instructed, already smearing the rest over Ais’s shoulder.
The paste stung fiercely when it made contact with skin, but only for a moment, before settling into a pleasant, numbing coolness. Mas then produced a roll of ragged, off-white bandages and started wrapping. Ais noted the speed and confidence with which he moved.
“I seem to have misjudged you,” Mas said, apropos of nothing.
“Pardon?” Ais said again.
Mas sighed as he tied off the bandages. “I, ah, have some issues with people who do not prioritize innocents in battle. I thought you were one of them.” He glanced over at Bell, who was dabbing alcohol on his forearm and wincing. “It appears I was mistaken. Apologies, Air.”
Ais thought of their first meeting, and the days that followed. He imagined where he would be right now, without Mas’s help. “We’ve just met. It was only natural,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t trust you either—I guess that makes us even.” He hesitated, ignoring Mas’s loud snort. Then he held out a hand. “My name is Ais.”
Mas grinned widely as he shook it. “Gardu. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ais.”
Behind him, Ying cleared her throat. She looked tired, and a little put off by the handshake, but it was all mostly buried under a layer of curiosity. “You said the pirates couldn’t hurt us here. And the Shadow Lord hasn’t occupied this place, even though it’s—even though it was a major city. Why?”
Gardu grinned in satisfaction at some unseen memory. “You felt the tingling when you passed through the tunnel, yes? Only those with good intentions may enter Tora untouched. The rest… at best, all their anger and hatred and greed gets sucked out of them. At worst, they die. Very convenient for weeding out traitors.”
Ying flinched back a little, one hand curling protectively over her heart. Then she steeled herself. “Good to know. Second question: who’s your partner?”
Gardu stared at her. So did Ais.
She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “The clothes by the door were in two different sizes. And two different hands wrote on the map.”
“How… observant. My… colleague is currently some ways downstream, guarding the local settlements.” Gardu spat out the word ‘colleague’ like it was a particularly vile curse. The rest of his sentence was perfectly normal. “Ah Meng, may I speak to you for a moment?”
Ying glanced at Ais, who shrugged and went to help Bell with the bandages. She followed Gardu into one of the bedrooms.
Not five minutes later, there was a burst of raucous laughter. Gardu flung the door open, grinning from ear to ear. Ying, poorly restraining her giggles, made a beeline for Ais.
“Ais,” she said, “you absolute idiot. It was that easy.”
“What was that easy?” Ais looked up, an inexplicable feeling of dread creeping over him.
“The entire time you were with him,” said Ying, grinning, “and you two were trying to figure each other out. The entire time, you could have just—”
She cut herself off abruptly, looking for Bell, but Gardu had herded him out of earshot with the promise of biscuits and dried fish.
“Ais.” She lowered her voice. “His partner is Yanaari—Panglima. The woman who saved us from the bird Ols.”
Ais remembered that encounter, thanks in no small part to the fading bruises around his throat. He recalled one specific interaction, thought about it a little, and fought the urge to bury his face in his hands. “So the entire time, I could have…”
Ying traced the birdlike symbol in the air, and then burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Gardu had returned to them. “I was going to invite you and your friend Ying to join the Resistance.” He slapped their backs so hard they almost faceplanted on the hard marble floor. “But it seems you’ve already been initiated! Ah, what trouble we could have saved if we had been a little more trusting, Ais! But what’s done is done.” He paused, and his face darkened. “I hear you also ran into Yanaari. She didn’t give you any trouble, I hope?”
There it was again—the unrestrained vitriol that accompanied the mention of Yanaari.
“No, of course not,” Ying said, quickly sobering up. “She saved our lives. In fact, she was the one who taught us about Ols.”
“I see. Did she tell you about Grade 3 Ols…? No, of course not—she thinks they’re baseless rumours. But I say better safe than sorry, so listen well.” Gardu paused dramatically, taking in their expressions. “Grade 3s are the perfected version of Ols. They can take any shape, living or nonliving, and hold it indefinitely. They eat and drink, are warm, and can make the Shadow Lord’s mark almost unrecognizable. Outside of this city, anything could be an Ol—the bird overhead, the pebble under your feet, the food in your hands—and you would never know.”
He paused again. Ais and Ying must have looked utterly horrified, because he laughed and patted them painfully on the back. “But worry not. No one in the Resistance has ever encountered one. If they exist, they are extremely rare—it must be difficult for the Shadow Lord to produce them.”
There was silence.
Bell appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Ah Meng, aren’t you going to eat something? You must be starving—I don’t know how you’re still walking around.”
Ais squinted at Ying. She became a little red in the face.
“I kept refusing their food,” she admitted.
Ais remembered Ying cramming apples into her pockets on the ship. He also remembered her stumbling, and her dropping the sword. All the negligible details that, put together, told a story.
“And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” Ais, personally, would have demanded food the second he saw his rescuer.
“There were more pressing issues.” Ying coughed. “We should get going soon. We’re a long way from the coast—”
Gardu raised a hand. “Not so fast. My cats need time to recuperate. Why don’t you eat and sleep first?” He dug out a veritable feast from his stores and set it in front of Ying.
“Your… cats?” said Ying.
Ais was focused on other matters. “You’re coming back downstream with us?”
“No, my friend,” said Gardu. “My cat Kiki is going downstream with you. I am continuing upstream with Koko and Tigre to warn the villages about the pirates. I’ve already drilled your incredibly observant friend—” His back-pat made Ying choke on an apple. “—for all the details I need. So rest! You will be glad for it tomorrow.”
As if to illustrate the point, he strode towards the master bedroom. Ying mouthed ‘cats’ at Ais with a baffled expression, but Ais just gave her a thumbs-up. *1
“Wait, one more question,” Ying called. “Why is Tora abandoned?”
Gardu stopped short, his hand on the door. “Ah, I was wondering when that would come up.” A faintly haunted expression crept onto his face. “Go to the main square. I think it’s best if you see for yourselves.”
The door shut with a soft click.
***
“Tora was carved by magic from a marble mountain. It’s perfect—all of one piece, without crack or seam.” Ying ran her finger along a flawless marble fence. “They say the square is a sight to behold—framed by the most elegant buildings and gardens, and holding, in the center, an ancient oath-stone wreathed in green flames.”
“An oath-stone?” Ais echoed.
Ying’s face scrunched up in concentration, but then she shrugged. “That’s all I remember. The book got confiscated years ago.”
They walked past ancient trees heavy with sweet-smelling fruit, which towered over spacious courtyards where elegant fountains sparkled in the sunrise. Through wide doorways and tall windows, they could see rooms draped in fine tapestries, silken rugs, and shimmering furniture. Under every window was a box teeming with bright flowers and humming bees. In parlours and under trees, tables of rich food and sparkling drink stood ready, wafting a collection of flavourful scents that somehow blended seamlessly together into one heady, enticing aroma.
But no one ate the food or talked by the fountains. No one reached up to pick the plump fruits or leaned down to smell the fragrant flowers. No one bustled around in the decadent rooms, or leaned out of the windows to peer at the two rugged travelers who did not belong in their perfect, happy world.
Ais and Ying drew closer, not under the weight of stares, but from the lack of them. Ying glanced uncomfortably at a perfectly-preserved, half-eaten slice of pie, then down at the crude map of Tora she had found.
“I think it’s just down this road. Come on.”
True to Ying’s word, the square was an exhibition in grandeur. Grand halls decorated with tall columns bordered a sprawling rectangular clearing, interspersed with brimming pockets of exotic flora. Lifelike statues dotted the space, their marble hair and robes flowing to the ground like water, their faces unblemished and serene. A sweeping flight of steps led up to the largest building in the square, and at the top of the steps lay a small carved box.
The box looked out of place, like it had been brought out of the building and then abandoned. But Ais’s attention was drawn more to the huge slab of marble in the square’s center, through which a jagged crack ran like a wound, and from which no green flames flickered.
They stared at it for a long, long time. It did not change.
“The Torans had ancient, powerful magic,” said Ying. “I was so sure—so sure that the heir would be here, protected by Tora.”
Ais climbed the broad steps on leaden feet. The box at the top was open, its lid pinning down two crumpled scraps of parchment. It was filled to the brim with neat little scrolls.
The King thanks you for your message. He will attend to your request when time allows.
The King thanks you for your message. He will attend to your request when time allows.
The Queen thanks you for your message. She will attend to your request when time allows.
They were all the same, except for the signature at the bottom. He remembered his father showing him an identical collection at the forge. These were the standard reply—the only thing the people received, when they sent requests and complaints to the monarch.
Ying had followed him up the steps, and was smoothing out the two scraps of parchment under the lid. She looked grim.
It was a letter, torn in half.
People of Tora,
The Belt of Deltora is lost; the Shadow Lord has returned. With the help of a true friend, I have escaped with the Queen and our unborn child. I ask you to offer sanctuary in fulfillment of your ancient vow. Return word by this messenger.
Waste no time, I beg you.
The King of Deltora.
“Messenger?” Ais murmured, remembering the story his father had told. “What messenger?”
“A bird, no doubt. They used to be plentiful in Del.” said Ying. She sighed heavily. “So the Torans broke their ancient vow. Maybe they were—rightfully—angry. Maybe they no longer believed in the oath-stone’s magic. But whatever the reason, they were doomed the moment they tore up the letter.” She stood, and the rising sun cast her face in shadow. “They’re long gone. There’s nothing more for us here.”
***
Ying went straight to bed upon returning, but Ais resisted the overpowering urge to follow her. Instead he took the yellow scarf from his pack, pilfered a cake of soap, and went to find a fountain. He wasn’t sure he would have slept well anyway, with the cracked stone seared into his mind.
The look on Ying’s face when she awoke was worth every second of lost sleep.
***
“Here.” Gardu handed Ais a large jar as he packed. It was labelled Quality Brand Honey. “Give Kiki a few spoonfuls a day. There should be enough for you to reach the coast.”
Ais squinted at the label. “The secret to your cats’ super-speed is… honey?”
Gardu winked unhelpfully. “With the Toran herbs, your shoulder should be fine by the time you arrive. Oh—if you run into Yanaari on the way, tell her I’ll be downstream to discuss strategy shortly.”
Once again, at the name, he looked like he had swallowed a lemon. Ais couldn’t ignore it anymore.
“What is it between you and Yanaari?”
“An old feud.” Gardu patted Ais’s back absentmindedly and very forcefully. “Though, after the whole situation with you, it occurs to me that our stubbornness and mutual suspicion certainly did not improve the issue. Perhaps it would not hurt to listen to her, at least.” He jolted and seemed to come back to himself. “But that does not concern you! I wish you luck in your own endeavours, whatever they are. May our paths cross again.”
“May our paths cross again,” Ais replied, secretly hoping that he never crossed paths with Gardu’s hand again.
Gardu went back to sitting in a chair and contemplating, like he had been doing all day. Ais went back to sorting the arrows Gardu had given him.
***
“This… is… amazing!”
Ying was a sight to see, with her arms in the air, her hair escaping its pigtails, and her yellow scarf streaming behind her like a flag. Or—she would be, if Ais was not being continuously smacked in the face by said scarf as he kept her from flying off the cat.
They had dropped off Bell the day before to a joyous daughter, who had hugged them both fiercely before running into a ramshackle cottage. She had then emerged with a ball of bright yellow yarn.
“I’m a spinner,” she had said. “This is my sturdiest yarn—it’s not much, but please accept it as a token of my gratitude. And you’ll stay the night, of course.”
Days with Kiki had not dampened Ying’s joy in the slightest. Their destination was near, and the briny scent of seawater was heavy in the air; Ying, noting this, had demanded that Ais hold her down so she could ‘truly savour’ the joys of riding Kiki one last time. Why this had to involve Ais hugging her around the waist and eating wool, he didn’t know.
Though in truth, he didn’t really mind. They had spent the last few nights discussing how, exactly, to find the Maze of the Beast; Ying had at last come to the unsatisfying conclusion that the pirates, who Gardu had said had a stronghold on the coast, would be the most likely to know. Therefore, their mission was to capture a single pirate and interrogate them.
The idea left a bad taste in Ais’s mouth, and probably in Ying’s as well, because he had heard her tossing and turning constantly the last few nights. He couldn’t begrudge her a few moments of joy with Kiki. In fact, he found himself missing it quite a bit as the Silver Sea came into view and Ying recomposed herself.
The west coast was no pretty sight, with its jagged rocks and frigid sea spray, and the absence of laughter made it all seem much colder. They dismounted just south of where the Tor dumped its sludge into the sea.
“Thank you, Kiki,” said Ais, pouring out the last of the Quality Brand Honey. The cat lapped it up. Then it nuzzled his hand, turned, and was gone.
“So.” Ying planted her hands on her hips. “Now we just need to find some pirates, lure one away, and successfully conduct an interrogation. No problem at all.”
The coast was long and they were but two people, so really the only viable strategy was to wait and hope that the pirates came to them. Ais and Ying set up camp on a nearby rock shelf, where an outcropping protected them from the worst of the sea spray. They took turns watching the river mouth. It was a long, incredibly tedious activity, and Ais would have fallen asleep several times over if not for the blowhole across the river, from which water burst with a loud roar at regular intervals.
There was no activity until the second night, when Ais could just barely make out a small ship passing from the Tor to the Silver Sea. It could have passed for a regular merchant ship, except no merchant ship could have business out here, and only a navigator who knew the coast like the back of their hand would dare sail these waters in the dark.
The ship turned south—thank goodness, because Ais did not fancy swimming across the cold, turbulent river mouth in the dark. He and Ying followed, picking their way across the rocks by moonlight. Unseen edges sliced through their palms, leaving deep, oozing cuts, but they dared not light a lantern lest the ship noticed. Waves crashed violently against the jagged rocks, sending up icy spray that stung their wounds and soaked their thin clothes through.
Just as Ais’s teeth started chattering, the ship turned into an opening in the rocks. Ais and Ying climbed closer and found a large flooded cave entrance. Further in, raucous chatter and flickering firelight bounced off the wall.
The water here was deep, sheltered, and relatively calm. There were no walkways along the stone walls.
Ais grimaced, took a deep breath, and dived in.
It tasted less foul than the Tor, at least, but the saltwater made all his cuts sting fiercely. It still smelled unpleasant. It was also bitterly cold. While Ying braced herself and jumped, he had to swim a few short laps to stop his muscles from locking up.
They followed the passage and soon came upon the pirate ship, emptied and docked at a natural outcropping. Next to it, just out of sight, a substantial crowd was talking. There were handholds aplenty leading up to the outcropping, so Ais and Ying climbed up and carefully peered over the edge.
“To a bountiful haul!”
There were a dozen or so pirates gathered around a campfire, chugging ale and gnawing on bones, telling dirty jokes, laughing drunkenly. Each had a number of weapons close at hand. On one side of the vast cavern sat innumerable crates and barrels of pilfered supplies; on the other rose a veritable mountain of treasure. Ais allowed himself a brief moment to be angry at their greed.
Ying looked grim. “We can’t separate them,” she whispered. “They’re too close together, and there aren’t any good hiding spots nearby. If we try, they’ll capture us.”
“We could wait till they’re asleep,” Ais suggested.
“Night guard,” Ying reminded him. “And it’ll be quiet. And dark. They’d notice if we dislodged a single pebble.”
“So what do we do?”
Ying shrugged and sighed.
While they were talking, a drunken fight had broken out between two women. Some of the other pirates cheered as they rolled around on the floor, punching and clawing and spitting in each other’s faces. This went on for several minutes before the captain, snapping out of her own drunken stupor, stood and tore them apart by the neck.
“No infighting!” she snapped, with an exasperation that suggested this was a common occurrence. “How many times… I have had enough of you two! Mark my words, one more brawl and I’m sending both of you to the Glus with the prisoners!”
The perpetrators continued to glare at each other. The captain shook them roughly.
“Well? Do you understand, or shall I throw you into the Maze?”
“We understand,” they grumbled.
As the pirates resumed their merrymaking, Ais lowered himself from the outcropping. “Well, they definitely know where the Maze is.” He turned.
Ying had an inscrutable look on her face. “I have an idea,” she said.
***
Ying and Ais pulled themselves onto the outcropping. The drunk pirates noticed nothing. They crept over to the treasure hoard, where Ying kicked at a pile of gold coins; the coins clattered noisily, and instantly a dozen pairs of eyes turned in their direction.
“Oh no,” Ais said blandly.
The next moment, filthy hands were clamped around his arms and legs. Someone kicked him in the knees, and he crashed to the stone floor alongside Ying.
“Now what do we have here?” the captain slurred, stumbling forward in what was probably supposed to be an intimidating entrance. “Two little rats, trying to steal from the greatest captain on the Tor?”
The others snickered. Ais graciously decided to pardon their sense of humour, on account of them being drunk.
The silence didn’t seem to bother the captain. “Well, we know exactly what to do with scum like you. Don’t we, friends?” She produced a wide grin that showed off all her yellowed, chipped teeth. The crowd cheered. “To the Maze!”
Ais made a show of struggling as they dragged him deeper into the cave, but inwardly he sighed in relief. As Ying had predicted, everyone was too drunk to think of much more than instant gratification, and not one person had mentioned kidnapping or slavery. Someone was pretending to scream in terror.
In a guarded chamber at the back, several people rolled a large boulder aside, revealing a slippery tunnel that ended in a dark, gaping hole in the ground. Ying and Ais were brought to the edge.
“Say hello to the Glus for me,” the captain said, before shoving them both in the back.
The jeering rapidly disappeared as they tumbled forward and fell through the hole. Damp air whistled past their ears. Ais narrowly avoided a stalagmite as he rolled into a shallow pool, while Ying somehow swung from a stalactite and landed on her feet, splashing milky water everywhere.
There was a rumble as the boulder slid back into place, far above. They were trapped in the Maze of the Beast.