As it turned out, thirty-seven minutes was well beyond Mickie’s breath holding capabilities. He was not quite sure how long he lasted, but at some point, the branded man’s lungs gave out. Gasping for air, he instead inhaled a good chunk of blue liquid.

  After that, things got hazy. Mickie was simultaneously drowning and connecting with the vast intent of the city’s runes. He felt his movement through the pipes as both a physical sensation and a spiritual interaction.

  As his consciousness faded, the branded man began to see other things too. Flashes from the perspective of the Soul Lord. The blue did not have the same mind altering effects as the silver, so the clarity was diminished, yet Mickie still saw.

  He was walking through identical rows of houses, talking to someone unseen about blueprints and soul impressionism. He said something about the need to come here, that it should be avoided.

  Then Mickie was standing on the now flattened platform in the city centre. He was chuckling, amused as a short, golden demon made an announcement to the gathered mass of lost. The lost applauded, just as they had been instructed to, and the demon turned to give Mickie a surprised look. It’s gemstone eyes glinted in the city lights.

  Finally, the pair watched as the drug was dumped into the pipe and the lost dispersed to their tasks. Mickie’s eyes roved the groups, landing upon the ranks of lonely miners. He wondered idly if he should find something else for them to do. Only, now that the tunnels were done, he struggled to think of anything beneficial. At his side his golden progeny turned, opened its mouth, and spoke.

  ‘Mickie!’

  The vision fractured as lights flashed behind the branded man’s eyes.

  ‘Come on, wake up!’

  There came a vague sensation of motion, as if someone was shaking him. Still under the influence of the blue drug, Mickie knew where he was without needing to see. The Soul Forge spoke to him like a long-lost parent, reminding him that he could be so much more than he was. The branded man attempted a gasp, and found he could not breath. Moments later he was retching blue liquid onto the floor.

  ‘Come on, bird brain, just get the blighter.’

  A squeaky voice added to the layers of sensation Mickie was experiencing. Something rubbed him gingerly on the back as he continued to heave. Eventually, the branded man managed a lungful of blessed air, rolling away from the pile of sick to lay on his back.

  ‘It ain’t that hard, just get it!’

  That voice. Miz-Mag was back.

  ‘Are… are you alright?’

  A different voice. The one that woke him. Kalistra. Good, he had made it in time, the trap was not yet sprung. It took Mickie a moment to centre himself, disconnecting enough from the intent of the drug that he could open his eyes.

  When he did the world swam before him, bright shapes on the ceiling silhouetting a dark face haloed by twisting bronze curls. Mickie’s attention was drawn to two gleaming orbs, centred upon the gorgon’s face.

  ‘Eyes.’

  He managed to rasp out. They were as they had been before Belphegor took them. Bronze sclera that took up almost all the visible white.

  ‘Indeed, we found the place of power.’

  Kalistra put a hand to Mickie’s chest as he attempted to rise. She smiled down at him.

  ‘Rest for the moment. You need to let the drug pass.’

  ‘Can’t. We need to move. Kalistra, I’ve seen it, it’s a trap.’

  A loud and deep squawk cut through the chamber, followed by a squeaky voice.

  ‘There! Get it!’

  There came a crash and a splash, followed by another shout from Miz-Mag.

  ‘Come on, just snag the accursed thing!’

  ‘What?’

  Mickie attempted to rise, but Kalistra kept him pinned.

  ‘It’s a machine. We found it dragging you through the drug.’

  She turned to look at the source of the nearby sounds.

  ‘Miz-Mag says it woke up while you were under. It almost lost hold of you.’

  The branded man’s eyes widened in alarm.

  ‘No! Don’t hurt it!’

  This time, when he sat up, the gorgon did not stop him. She frowned as his head spun from the motion.

  ‘Hurt it? Mickie, it was drowning you.’

  ‘No.’ He shook off the call of the Soul Forge, twisting to scan the chamber. ‘Mag, Ziz, leave it be.’

  He found the tiny fiend atop their primordial companion. Ziz looked different than Mickie remembered, a little larger, with fewer feathers covering the base of its neck and chest. Instead it had what looked to be scales protecting its hide. Atop the primordial’s head were a pair of budding horns, like those of a young deer.

  ‘Mik!’

  ‘Kid, you’re up. There’s a machine, damn near killed us both.’

  Mickie took a slow breath and pushed himself to his feet. He did not know if it was his broken healing or the drug, but the world seemed to never stop spinning.

  ‘It wasn’t killing us. We… we had a deal.’

  Silence fell across the room, long enough that Mickie managed to recover some of his bearings.

  ‘You made a deal? With a machine?’

  Kalistra said, sounding as if she thought he might need another lie down.

  ‘Not a machine.’ Mickie said, gripping her arm for support. ‘The machine. The same one we’ve seen following us.’

  ‘Hold on.’ Miz-Mag said. ‘You cut a deal with our stalker? How come I woke up in the blue stuff then?’

  ‘I needed to get back.’ The branded man turned to Kalistra, taking in her newly repaired eyes, and the concern they held. ‘Kalistra, the Soul Forge, did you use it?’

  The answer seemed obvious, but he had to be sure. At the gorgon’s nod Mickie felt his chest constrict. The trap, the one he had the miners construct, had gone off.

  ‘Are you alright Mickie?’

  Kalistra asked softly. The branded man had frozen, stunned by his own thoughts. His trap? The miners? Where had that come from?

  ‘Yeah, I… we need to go.’ He turned about the chamber, looking for the metallic penguin. It was nowhere to be found.

  ‘Hey!’ He shouted. ‘It’s okay now, you can come out!’

  As the echoes of Mickie’s call died there was a splash, followed by a flat voice.

  ‘You have awoken. Good.’

  The group turned to an area of the chamber quite some distance from Miz-Mag and Ziz. Standing on two stubby legs, just outside of a blue channel, was the machine. Out of the corner of his eye Mickie noticed Ziz crouch low.

  ‘Don’t.’ He held up an arm towards the primordial. ‘The robot isn’t an enemy bud.’

  ‘Then why did it flee?’ Ziz squawked in annoyance.

  ‘I did not desire destruction.’ The machine responded. ‘You are large and would have done me harm.’

  Mickie was racking his brain for a reason why the miners might be responsible for the trap, and coming up short. He knew, with complete certainty, that those idle lost were behind its construction, yet he had no clue what the trap actually was.

  ‘We don’t have time to argue. I’ll explain on the way.’ He turned to Kalistra. ‘The monster, is it nearby?’

  The gorgon was still eyeing him with concern, and her answer was slow and cautious.

  ‘No. It followed us here, but when we exited the place of power it was gone.’ Her lip twisted up in a satisfied smile. ‘I think I scared it off’

  ‘Doubtful.’ The robot chimed in. ‘It is more likely the abomination sensed the activation of the trap.’

  Kalistra frowned when the machine started speaking, and had to bite back a retort as it finished.

  ‘A trap?’ She asked Mickie instead.

  ‘Yeah, the Soul Lord rigged the forge. Like I said, I’ll explain on the way.’ The branded man responded. ‘Ziz, could you take an extra person now? I’ve noticed you’re a little beefier.’

  The primordial swelled with pride at the comment and gave an affirmative squawk.

  ‘Yes. Kali, Mik and Mag will be no problem.’

  Mickie did not fail to notice that one individual was left out, hardly a surprise looking at the glares Ziz was throwing the robot’s way. The branded man sighed and turned to the metallic penguin.

  ‘Look, I know we had a deal, but our chat’s going to have to wait. Can you get yourself out of here?’

  ‘The deal stipulated that I be allowed to follow you. I anticipated this scenario, and will postpone our discussion.’

  The machine had hardly finished speaking before its body began to liquify and change. Everyone but Mickie made sounds of alarm as it flattened and elongated slightly. One set of fins widened and stretched, while another retracted entirely. Its head became narrow and sleek, made to cut through the air. In moments a rather large bird of prey stood in the penguin’s place.

  ‘I will fly.’ The machine finished, almost smug.

  ‘It copied me!’ Ziz shrieked in outrage, and Mickie had to physically get in front of the big bird. Personally, the branded man felt the primordial was more dragon than eagle, but he was not about to say that.

  ‘I know bud, we’ll sort it out later. Right now, we need to leave.’ He turned to Kalistra. ‘And I mean right now.’

  The gorgon was confused, concerned, and not a little wary, yet she still nodded.

  ‘Alright. Let’s go.’

  The wind cut by Mickie’s ears as they soared through the dark. Ziz had his recently resummoned weapon in its beak, providing just enough light to let them dart through the tunnels. Miz-Max was hunched up on the primordial’s head, murmuring about their robot follower as it flapped nearby. That left Mickie feeling oddly alone with the final member of their group, Kalistra. She sat just in front of him, close enough that he could feel the occasional brush from her serpentine hair.

  The touch left him feeling strange and uncomfortable, but the branded man was engulfed by too much anxiety to examine the sensation. He should have been relieved that there had been no sign of the Soul Lord’s trap, yet the lack of any change left him more and more uneasy. Mickie had been in that fiend’s head, he knew how confident it was that the trap would work.

  ‘Mickie.’ Kalistra said, cutting into his thoughts. ‘How did you know the forge was a trap? Did the machine tell you?’

  Mickie tensed up at the question. He considered briefly taking the lifeline she had offered. The robot had, after all, detected the activation of the Soul Forge in its own, weird way. Except he had already resolved to tell the gorgon of his visions, just as he had told Miz-Mag.

  ‘I…’ He started, then hesitated, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. ‘For a while now. Ever since we fought in the arena, actually, I’ve been seeing things.’

  He laid it all out for her. How the visions had come while he slept, and how the silver drug had exacerbated their effects. Once he was done, there was a long silence. Ziz banked hard in a turn, and Kalistra was pushed back against him. She felt as tense as a startled lynx.

  ‘You remember how I told you there was something wrong with your bond?’

  She eventually said, and Mickie could tell nothing of her thoughts from her voice, not when she faced away from him.

  ‘Yeah, I remember.’

  ‘Well, this is what I meant.’ She turned back to look at him, and Mickie saw a deep fear within her eyes. ‘Seeing through the Soul Lord’s eyes…’

  Her attention shifted again, fixating upon Ziz’s shifting neck.

  ‘I have not yet had a chance to tell you of the Soul Forge, of what it can do. With only a short amount of time, I created something that could fix my eyes. If Magareem had unrestricted access to that power, then it explains much.’

  She shuddered.

  ‘Like what?’

  Mickie asked, a bit taken aback. He had expected anger at withholding this information. Instead, Kalistra seemed afraid more than anything.

  ‘How the Soul Lord simply appeared one day, how it gained such power, how so many of its creations were made.’ She released a shaky breath. ‘How even something as deep as a soul bond could be twisted.’

  There was a long pause before Kalistra continued.

  ‘Like I said, I have not had the chance to explain what I achieved with the forge. Mickie, it did more than just heal my eyes, it improved them. I can see them now, if I get the chance to focus.’

  ‘See what?’

  ‘Souls.’ She whispered, almost too low to hear. ‘Souls painted over the physical world. Mickie, they are beautiful, the very essence of a being given form. Only your… yours has been warped.’

  The branded man was simultaneously astonished and confused. He had no idea what a soul might look like in the physical world. As far as he was aware a soul appeared as an internal space, like the one he held that contained his power.

  ‘Warped.’ Mickie murmured back. ‘I don’t know what you mean. I’ve never noticed anything like that.’

  The gorgon was silent for a moment.

  ‘It is not something I would expect to be visible from the inside.’ She grasped for the right words. ‘The wrongness is not with your soul itself, but your bond with Miz-Mag. There are twists and folds to it that I might not have thought possible before discovering the Soul Forge.’

  ‘And what does that mean, that my bond is misshapen?’

  ‘I… I do not know what it means. Not truly. From what you have said of Magareem however, I can guess who made it that way.’

  Mickie did not know what to say, so Kalistra continued.

  ‘The beast, the Minotoncheires, has a similar warping. Though I think that in its case an attempt was made to artificially produce a soul binding, to force the change without consent from both participants.’

  That snapped Mickie out of it.

  ‘Wait, hold on, Minotoncheires?’

  Kalistra explained what she had deduced of their giant enemy’s origin, that it was not one monster, but two. It meshed well with their robot follower’s thoughts.

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  ‘And you think the Soul Forge was used to what? Mash the two together?’

  He asked once she had completed her explanation.

  ‘I would not quite describe it that way, but in essence, yes. I only ever touched upon its soul with my power, but even a small glimpse was enough to tell how perverted it was.’

  ‘The gorgon’s hypothesis is likely.’

  A flat voice commented, speaking loud over the rushing wind. Mickie and Kalistra both jumped at the sound, twisting to see a large eagle gliding mere feet away.

  ‘You heard that?’

  Kalistra asked, a dark note in her voice.

  ‘I have adopted powerful auditory sensors. I noted your conversation on the amalgamation. As I have studied that creature in detail, I decided my input would hold value.’

  ‘And what about the rest?’

  She pressed. The machine dipped a little lower, coming closer to the duo.

  ‘I did not note any conversation outside of the amalgamation.’

  Mickie frowned up at the gleaming bird. The details of his bonding were not something he would want a potential spy finding out. Kalistra appeared to be of the same mind, he felt her power beginning to stir as she glared at the machine.

  ‘Please do not assault me. If my input is unrequired, I will move away.’

  It said, and Mickie put a hand on Kalistra’s arm.

  ‘Hold off, I said we wouldn’t hurt it.’

  For all that the machine might be a spy, the branded man would not destroy it unless given proper reason. Not after the deal that they had made. Kalistra’s grip on her power fell away as she gave him a mildly exasperated look.

  ‘Sometimes, I see why Miz-Mag gets so frustrated with you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ The robot commented. ‘Now as I was saying, I believe your assessment of the amalgamation is correct. I have noted the…’

  Anything else the robot had to say was lost as Ziz bucked and abruptly shot forward. Perhaps sensing Kalistra's use of her power, the primordial had glanced back at them to see what was happening. It did not seem to like the machine getting close, and had put on some distance as Miz-Mag threw back a rude gesture from its head.

  When the metallic eagle attempted to catch up, Ziz put on another burst of speed, then another. Soon, any chance of further conversation was put on hold as the primordial rocketed through the pipe network, forcing Mickie and Kalistra to grip on for dear life.

  The makeshift race continued for what felt like a gut churning age before they finally twisted upwards and into an opening filled with light. Ziz burst into the city with a triumphant caw, well ahead of their robotic follower.

  Mickie finally released his death grip on the primordial as it slowed, taking a moment to catch his breath. On Ziz’s head Miz-Mag appeared to be doing the same.

  ‘Y-you sure showed that bag of bolts.’

  The tiny fiend sounded more relieved than impressed. Mickie scanned the city as they came in for a landing, and by all appearances it was business as usual. Finally touching down in the city centre was a relief, and Mickie felt almost nostalgic at the sight of the queueing flower gatherers.

  The stage was still a crumpled ruin, though already it was showing signs of repair. Lost crawled all over it, refitting metal and carting away broken scrap. Another couple weeks and it would probably be back in working order, not that it helped them at this point. Mickie’s attention shifted to the open space of the city centre, and he stopped short.

  ‘Where are the miners?’

  Kalistra said, noticing the absence of the idle lost at the same moment he had. The branded man turned about, trying to catch sight of them, yet he already knew he would not. Something deeper than instinct told him they were gone, headed off to complete their final task. Mickie was suddenly glad Ziz had raced through that final stretch of tunnel.

  ‘I’m not sure where they’ve gone. I never saw that in the visions.’

  He muttered. There came the clatter of steel against steel as the machine landed nearby. It cast a wary eye on Ziz as it addressed them.

  ‘I do not believe it safe to remain here. We should distance ourselves from the system as soon as possible.’

  ‘Oh yeah, and go where?’

  Miz-Mag squeaked as it sauntered over. The little demon leapt into the air, taking its customary spot on Mickie’s shoulder so it could look down on the robot.

  ‘The tunnels will suffice.’

  ‘The tunnels? You want to head back out into the accursed labyrinth? Don’t you know how long it took us to find this place?’

  Miz-Mag seemed more interested in contradicting the robot than providing an actual plan. Mickie let their argument wash over him as he tried to think. What did the miners have to do with the trap? What had they been doing before they went idle? Mickie glared at the spot where the lost had once stood.

  ‘Someone is coming.’

  Ziz called, bounding over. The branded man’s stomach twisted at the thought that they were too late. He cast about for a sign of the monster, only to relax when he saw what the primordial meant. Something was coming, but it was no threat to them.

  Stumbling out of a connecting street was a figure in ragged clothes. It was a lost, though one acting distinctly out of character. Miz-Mag and the machine’s bickering died off as it became apparent the figure was heading their way.

  ‘Hey, ain’t that the fellow who used to watch us work?’

  The little demon asked. Mickie squinted and saw that it was indeed the lonely lost who hung around their old basecamp. The ragged man appeared to be saying something, but his head was down and none of them could make out the words.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ Mickie said. ‘I thought he didn’t leave the garden.’

  ‘He does not.’ Kalistra confirmed. ‘Whatever has drawn him out here must be significant indeed.’

  When the man was finally within earshot, they started to hear what he was saying. It was a garbled mess of half sentences.

  ‘Can’t breath, the knot is tight. Can’t hear over the words. I just wanted to feel again. I just wanted to see her again.’

  It was rare for their lost to speak, now he seemed unable to stop.

  ‘Chips in the paint. Chunks out of me. Oh he knows. He can taste those accursed words.’

  ‘By the blood.’

  Kalistra gasped, eyes fixed upon the ragged figure as he stumbled up to them.

  ‘Yes.’ Ziz hissed. ‘He is wrong.’

  ‘Wrong? Wrong how?’ Mickie asked.

  ‘In the soul.’ Kalistra breathed.

  ‘Words against my skull. Hammer on the eggshells. This is not what I asked for. I did not ask. Did not speak. Did not think. Did not dream.’

  The lost continued to ramble as it stumbled to a halt before them. It was almost as if the ragged man was trying to communicate something, though Mickie had never known one of the lost to do something of their own volition.

  ‘You have noted the alterations.’ The robot said to Kalistra and Ziz in its flat voice.

  ‘You… you see them?’ The gorgon turned to the machine, shaking her head to clear it. ‘Your eyes, of course.’

  ‘Yes. These visual receptors do not perceive the world in the manner typical to the organic variety. With them I have analysed the condition of the altered mortals.’

  ‘Altered?’ Miz-Mag asked. ‘What in the nine’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Just what it sounds like. It's not just the drugs that were used to condition the lost, it was the Soul Forge.’ Kalistra shuddered. ‘You, you said you had examined them? What are your conclusions?’

  She asked the machine.

  ‘As you noted, the system was used to condition them for specific purposes. The fabric of their souls has been shaped and imprinted with detailed intent. Something mortals would consider to be a set of instructions.’

  The metal bird said, and Kalistra nodded.

  ‘It’s like the Minotoncheires, only with more finesse. I did not even notice it until our friend came into view. His conditioning is broken, messy.’

  ‘Shattered into pieces and pieces and pieces…’

  The lost began to say, as if in agreement. Kalistra looked at him, bronze eyes soft with pity.

  ‘To do this to a soul… it could only have been the lost. Only they would be soft and malleable enough to undergo the conditioning.’

  ‘But this guy’s broken it.’ Miz-Mag noted. ‘Can’t have taken hold that hard if he’s managed to shake it off.’

  ‘An event likely occurred that triggered the return of individuality to the lost.’ The robot said. ‘I expect the presence of the amalgamation played a role.’

  Mickie, who had only had half an ear on the conversation started at that.

  ‘Wait, triggered individuality? You mean this lost isn’t really lost?’

  ‘Perhaps. What you consider as lost is not a single state but closer to a spectrum. There are varying levels to which the mortal mind…’

  Mickie missed the rest of what the machine was saying as he started forward. The branded man caught the ragged lost by the shoulders and shook him.

  ‘Hey, you in there?’

  ‘Kid, what are you…’

  Miz-Mag was clutching to his ear as Mickie shook the ragged mortal.

  ‘If what the machine says is true, then part of this guy is still in there. He’s a witness.’

  ‘Mickie, I do not think that will be effective.’

  Kalistra said, coming up beside him to lay a hand on his arm, stopping the shaking.

  ‘You don’t understand. I know it seems fine at the moment, but something’s coming.’

  Mickie could feel it, hanging just out of sight. Every second that passed the feeling got worse. They could not afford to waste any more time here.

  ‘What did the Soul Lord do?’ He said, grasping the lost by the chin and looking into its eyes. ‘You came running to us for a reason. You know what’s coming, don’t you?’

  The mortal’s eyes were vacant, same as all others of his kind. It’s chin continued to move in Mickie’s hand, spilling out a continuous litany of nonsense.

  ‘Mickie, there is no need for this.’

  Kalistra’s grip tightened on his arm. No sooner had she said that then the lost’s mouth closed with an audible click of teeth. His eyes seemed to find Mickie, to truly see him for the first time.

  ‘We just wanted to be whole.’

  The words were not part of a garbled ramble, but spoken clearly and succinctly. Mickie and Kalistra both stiffened, and the branded man let his hand fall away from the lost’s chin. The mortal did not break Mickie’s gaze as he continued.

  ‘We all heard the call, the others and me. We who were broken but wished not to be. We did not know the song was poisonous.’

  ‘Right, and what about Magareem. Do you know what is coming?’

  The branded man pressed. For a moment the lost’s eyes grew unfocussed, before snapping back to him.

  ‘The demon. Yes, I heard the demon speak of it. The forge was used, that means it is coming. The flood.’

  The flood? What did that mean? Mickie’s thoughts began to turn inwards, when something caught his arm in a vice. It was the lost, glaring at him now with a manic look in its eyes.

  ‘The flood is not all. You must listen. There is more, there are the words. There is the one who speaks them. You must fear the one that follows. Fear the words that he brings.’

  Again with this talk of the words. Mickie did his best to remember what the lost was saying, but his mind was on the warning of a flood. The ragged mortal’s desperation wilted as his message was delivered, eyes losing drifting for a short moment.

  ‘Remember yourself. I forgot, and you should not. If you do anything, do that.’

  ‘Thank you. We hear your message.’ Kalistra said softly to the mortal. The lost nodded in an idle kind of way.

  ‘Good. Good. I saw you all, I wanted to warn you.’

  His eyes began to lose focus, and this time they stayed that way.

  ‘What’s your name? Before you forget, tell us your name.’ Kalistra said.

  The mortal’s brow furrowed in thought, and his mouth moved as if it were searching for a voice.

  ‘Oh, I… H-hail… No. Not me. Gethin. I am Gethin.’

  ‘Gethin then. We will remember that, remember your name even if you do not.’

  Kalistra smiled sadly at the ragged man. She got nothing in return. The lost had returned to his usual state of placidity, no longer speaking now his message had been delivered. The five recipients of said message were silent for a moment, digesting what had been said. Then Mickie felt something cold splash against his cheek. It snapped him from his thoughts like the crack of a whip.

  ‘Hey kid, you just spit on me or something?’

  Miz-Mag asked as the branded man raised a hand to his cheek. His fingers came away coated in a thin film of clear liquid. It did not seem dangerous, if anything, it seemed familiar.

  ‘Water?’

  Mickie muttered, and was answered by a series of soft taps. He turned just in time to see something splash against the metal floor of the city. It looked to be a lonely drop of liquid. Mickie looked upwards and found a slight shimmer to the air, approaching like rolling fog. The rain hit before he could get his mouth open to call a warning.

  ‘Shit kid, what is this?’

  Miz-Mag’s call was the most distinct, but hardly the only shout of alarm. Ziz was thrashing about, trying to find the source of the sudden deluge. Kalistra was attempting to calm her partner down, while also attempting to get Gethin the lost to move. The machine seemed to have frozen up completely, that was until it twisted sharply toward Mickie.

  ‘THE RIVER LIES ABOVE.’

  It boomed over the clamour of the rain, so loud that everyone else abruptly fell quiet. Mickie was about to ask what the robot meant when it hit him. The river. The Fifth circle. The flood. He knew then, just where the mining lost had gotten to, and he knew they were screwed beyond measure.

  ‘Oh shit.’

  Was all he could think to say. The robot whirred loudly.

  ‘YES. SHIT.’

  ‘I don’t like the wet.’

  Ziz cried and took off towards the nearest buldings.

  ‘Wait! Stop!’

  Kalistra had just managed to get Gethin moving, and started dragging the lost along as she trailed Ziz. Mickie cursed and took off after them.

  ‘Kid, what in the nine is going on?’

  Miz-Mag shouted over the rain.

  ‘It’s the trap. It’s a flood like that lost said.’ He caught up to Kalistra and started to yell so she could hear. ‘The reason it took so long to hit us is because the miners had to climb.’

  ‘Climb where?’ The gorgon asked, Gethin still stumbling along behind her.

  ‘To the Fifth circle.’ It was the machine this time, speaking with a more modulated tone as it half ran, half flew beside them. ‘The primary purpose of the miners would have been to create a path upwards. They likely traversed these paths and dug into the river.’

  ‘Wait. This water is from the fifth.’ Kalistra’s face was suddenly draining of colour. ‘Oh no. Oh by all the accursed realms.’

  She suddenly released Gethin’s arm and accelerated towards Ziz at a dead sprint. The primordial was attempting to burrow its way into a building at the edge of the city centre. Its newly acquired bulk made an originally difficult task all but impossible. Mickie skidded to a stop, almost sliding over in the rapidly forming river at his feet.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Miz-Mag cried as he turned to the suddenly immobile lost. Mickie did not bother answering, grasping Gethin’s arm and dragging him after Kalistra and Ziz.

  ‘Hurry.’ The machine said, flapping hard to stay in the air. ‘The ceiling has gaps that leak. We must attain higher ground before the water gets deeper.’

  Mickie began to pull the lost behind him, but progress was slow. He soon gave up on having Gethin walk at all, tripping the mortal to drag him through the water.

  ‘What are you talking about? What happens when the water gets deeper?’

  Miz-Mag asked the question for them both.

  ‘The sides of this chamber are open to the tunnels. They will allow for more water than the ceiling.’

  The machine finished. Mickie and his demonic partner shared a look, and began to push harder for the nearby buildings. They were closing in upon Ziz and Kalistra when the roar of moving water intensified. Even through the constant flow about his ankles, Mickie could feel the earth vibrating.

  ‘Forget getting inside! Get to the roof!’

  He shoulder checked Ziz, who was still attempting to scramble through a busted door. Kalistra was also hauling on her partner, and through their combined efforts the primordial finally dragged itself back outside.

  ‘Roof, now!’

  The branded man shouted, and pushed past the oversized avian. Water was sloshing about his knees now, rising higher by the moment. It rushed after him into the building, as if sensing he intended to get away. Mickie took the stairs at a sprint, the lost’s legs thudding along behind him. Kalistra was hot on their heels as they ascended to the top floor and stepped onto the landing.

  ‘Stand clear!’

  Mickie called, and resummoned his gun from where Ziz had abandoned it. He felt a flare of internal fire as the weapon’s stored power touched against his soul’s own, but then it was in his hand. Without hesitation the branded man pointed at the ceiling and fired.

  The sound was not all that much worse than the roar of water all around them. Any smoke was pounded aside by the sudden rain coming into the building, revealing a large hole leading upwards.

  ‘Ziz!’ Kalistra cried, and a big bronze head briefly blocked out the rain. The gorgon waved her partner down and the primordial dipped its long neck into the building. Mickie dismissed his weapon and caught hold of one of the avian’s newly grown horns. Kalistra took the other, and together they were pulled up and onto the building’s roof, dragging Gethin the lost behind them.

  It had been less than a minute since they were outside, but that was all the water needed to claim the city. Metal streets had become raging rivers, dragging silent lost towards the city centre like debris to a drain. The open pipe drank up the torrent, creating a circular waterfall that streamed into darkness. Even as Mickie watched, the water surged and rose, shaking the building upon which the stood.

  ‘By the blood, it truly is the river.’ Kalistra said. ‘The Soul Lord did all of this to kill us?’

  ‘Not to kill us, not really.’ Mickie replied. ‘Our deaths would have just been a happy accident. The point of all this was to kill the Soul Forge.’

  He stared at the water draining into the city centre. A ragged woman was sent tumbling out into the open, bobbing like a cork until she disappeared over the side. That very same torrent was likely moving through the hidden tunnels, flushing out the precious drug stores. Not only that, but if more water coming in from the Fifth than was draining out of the city, the whole place might eventually go under.

  ‘Is this gonna drain the river or something?’ Miz-Mag asked. ‘Surely it can’t keep flooding these tunnels forever.’

  Kalistra sighed.

  ‘The river of the Fifth is not normal. It has no source and does not run dry. It will continue to flow through the Labyrinth until it is stopped.’

  ‘Hold on, if it’ll just keep draining then why ain’t all the other circles underwater?’

  ‘Because of the Seventh.’ Kalistra replied, almost idly as she gazed out at the rising flood. ‘The sands are the antithesis of the river. Any water is reported to rapidly vanish once exposed to the open air there.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter why.’ Mickie cut in before Miz-Mag could ramble further. ‘What matters is that we find a way out of here before we get dragged back down that hole.’

  He nodded at the city centre.

  ‘Ziz, do you think you could fly us out?’

  The primordial gave a miserable shake of its bedraggled head.

  ‘Maybe. Is difficult. Something is wrong with the water. It holds me down.’

  ‘Hold you down? How can it…’

  Miz-Mag started, but Mickie shut his partner up.

  ‘Doesn’t matter why. I’ll take a maybe over a no.’

  He racked his brain for a solution. They could attempt to get out of the city the way they had come in, but that would mean going against the torrent of water. What they needed was an alternative path, one which did not involve going back down into the pipe network.

  ‘Could there be an access path? Something that wouldn’t have been flooded by the miners?’

  He asked. Miz-Mag gave him a consoling pat on the side of the head.

  ‘I don’t know about that kid. Even if there is one I don’t think we’re going to find it.’

  The little demon was right. They had not found any secret exits in the days they spent looking through the city. There was no chance they would stumble across one now time was short.

  ‘The abomination was in the system. It left at the beginning of the collapse.’

  It was the machine, speaking for the first time since they had all congregated on the roof.

  ‘We know, bolt head, how is that relevant?’ Miz-Mag snarked.

  ‘It’s relevant.’ Kalistra remarked, eyes widening in realization. ‘Because the beast would have needed some way to get out. It’s too wide for the typical tunnels.’

  ‘Don’t see any exit.’ Ziz said, craning its neck to look across the city.

  ‘That is because it is likely concealed or hidden below us.’ The robot said, shuffling closer to the group. ‘But I have noted signs of its existence.’

  Everyone but the vacant lost turned to the metal bird. The machine shifted, almost as if it was nervous at their attention.

  ‘Well, out with it.’ Miz-Mag snapped.

  ‘It is the rain.’ The machine said in a rush. ‘Distribution of water such as this indicates a wide space above the city. I predict there is a large hollow over our heads enabling the spread of water upon the city roof.’

  ‘The beast’s escape tunnel?’ Mickie asked.

  ‘It is likely.’ The robot confirmed.

  Staring upwards, the branded man felt he could almost see the region of the ceiling that was leaking water. It ran down the side of the domed roof, abruptly stopping halfway down.

  ‘Hold on.’ Miz-Mag cut in. ‘If the roof is leakin’, don’t that mean it’ll be flooded up there?’

  ‘There will be water.’ The robot replied. ‘But from my estimates the size of the tunnel far exceeds the flow of water from the ceiling. It should be traversable.’

  ‘Let’s hope.’ Mickie said. ‘Because right now it’s looking like our only option.’