And together the three of them marched deeper into the ruins, following the path that was becoming increasingly familiar to Scorio. He told them about his endeavors, the small, inaccessible, island he’d found, the treatise he’d purchased, and the syrup that Naomi was going to deliver to him shortly.
“So you see,” he finished as they reached the small street at the base of his building, “it was your generosity that allowed all this to happen.”
“They’re going to be rated Bronze level?” asked Lianshi, taken aback. “That’s… can we have some?”
“No kidding!” Leonis rubbed at his bearded chin thoughtfully. “We could help you create more of these farms, and then begin selling them to our classmates in exchange for other treasures and elixirs…”
“I think they’re going to be weak Bronze, yes,” said Scorio. “But I’m going to need my apothecary to check its potency before being sure.”
“You hear that, Lianshi? Scorio’s got an apothecary.” Leonis grinned. “Looks like he’s doing all right for himself out here.”
A new voice spoke out from above them. “He’s not failing abysmally, I’ll give him that.”
The three of them looked up to see Naomi crouched on the sill of a second-story window. At first glance, she seemed calm, but not only had her voice sounded artificially light, she was breathing shallowly, her chest rising quickly, her knuckles white where she gripped the sill’s edge.
“Lianshi, Leonis, may I introduce Naomi, my saving grace and eternally patient mentor.” Scorio grinned up at her then made an elaborate bow.
“It is an honor to meet you,” said Lianshi, bowing as well.
“Thank you for helping Scorio,” rumbled Leonis gravely. “He needs all the help he can get.”
Scorio straightened and saw a tightness around Naomi’s eyes. This was where she should have said something wry at his expense, but instead, she just remained crouching, lips pursed tight.
“Would that I could be saved,” said Scorio after a beat. “But if anyone can pull it off, it’s Naomi. Did I ever tell you two how we first met?”
Leonis and Lianshi looked to him, sensing the tension in the air.
Scorio thought quickly. “As you know, I am an expert musician, excelling at that little stringed instrument thing, the one with one string which you play with a bow?”
Lianshi raised both eyebrows, clearly wanting to help him but not knowing how.
“So I would sit on my rooftop every Second Clay and play a melancholy ballad called… The Char’s Lament… and I thought I was all alone, until I heard the sweetest voice singing the words from the opposite rooftop…”
Leonis’s solemn expression began to crack as he realized what was going on, and Scorio glanced up where Naomi was glaring at him.
“She knew the words, and each night she would sing them with perfect clarity, but I never saw her until—”
Naomi hopped off the window ledge and landed lightly beside him, her drop much more adroit and skilled than his own only a short while ago.
“Enough,” she said, face flushing. “Any more nonsense from you and you’ll lose the few friends you’ve somehow managed to make.”
Scorio grinned—was she pleased? He couldn’t tell. But she wasn’t hitting him. “But I haven’t gotten to the part where I was attacked by Basilisk operatives, and you recognized me by the sound of my music—”
“I will kill you if you keep talking,” said Naomi, tone understated but determined. “And I’ll do it slowly.”
“Now I know you’re friends,” said Leonis, placing his hands on his hips. “The desire to murder him is a unifying constant amongst all those he spends time with.”
“That’s not true,” said Lianshi, moving to stand next to Scorio. “I only occasionally want to throttle him, but not necessarily to death.”
“See?” Scorio slung an arm over Lianshi’s shoulders. “True friendship.”
“Here,” said Naomi, pulling out his palm-sized bottle which was now half-filled with a black, viscous liquid. “As promised. Take only a teaspoon.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” He turned the bottle over and watched as the black liquid within began to ooze over. “This will make all the difference.”
Lianshi linked her hands behind her back. “Will you be joining us today, Mistress Naomi?”
“I…” Naomi glanced to Scorio hurriedly. “I had some errands I had to run…”
“She agreed to escort us to the base of the Academy,” said Scorio. “And depending on how long it takes us to get there, she might have time for one run of the Gauntlet. Maybe. Right?”
“Right,” croaked Naomi, curling her thick hair behind one ear as she looked down; it slipped free immediately. “I—yes. I can escort you all there. To, ah, keep you safe.”
“Having an Emberling with us will make all the difference,” said Lianshi. “Thank you kindly, mistress.”
“Naomi.” Her face flushed. “No need for anything else. Just… Naomi is fine.”
“Naomi, then,” said Lianshi. “May I ask you some questions as we walk?”
“Come on,” said Scorio, punching Leonis lightly on the arm. “Let’s get moving.”
They moved down the street, the two ladies falling behind a little, though Scorio could make out the gist of Lianshi’s questions—they were uniformly admiring, solicitous, and respectful.
Leonis began scanning the streets and rooftops as they probed deeper into the ruins, and Scorio sensed his rising tension; in a way, it was good to be reminded of how dangerous this part of Bastion could be. Familiarity bred contempt, after all, though having Naomi with them made him doubly assured.
They made good time, taking detours to avoid the more dangerous areas, climbing at last onto the rooftops as they crossed the final third of the ruins. First Bronze lit up the sky as they drew close, until at last the massive Academy moved into view.
They grew quiet as they slipped down to the massive bridge and crossed it warily. Scorio went first, chalk in hand, and when he saw movement at the great, tumbled house at the bridge’s far end, he froze.
The massive toad reared up into view and then froze as well.
Nobody moved. Finally, the toad took a careful step backward. “Friends,” it croaked. “Favorite friends. Pass.”
“A trick?” asked Leonis, sotto voce.
“Don’t think so,” said Scorio, walking forward once more. “Friends!” he called out.
“Favorite friends,” repeated the toad, its voice warbling nervously, then it slipped back out of view.
“I’m not sure I believe him,” said Naomi as they circled out wide to avoid the ruined house, nobody taking their eyes off its darkened interior.
Scorio sharpened his darkvision and probed at the cracks, until the black shadows revealed the toad squirming its way back into what looked like a basement level.
“I’m not complaining,” said Leonis. “It clearly learned its lesson the last time it tangled with us.”
“Because having an Emberling with us has nothing to do with it,” said Lianshi.
“Coincidence, surely.” Leonis broke into a light run along the shattered street till it gave way to another gulf. Together they climbed onto a rough rubble-strewn field of a rooftop. Moved along ledges and across the facades of gutted towers till at last, they dropped back down before the Academy itself.
Rather than press Naomi about whether she’d accompany them further, Scorio led the way up the broad, cracked steps to the Academy’s grand entrance, till they stood amidst the collapsed portico before the huge, battered doors.
“We should enter through the side as before,” said Lianshi. “No sense in trying to force these doors open.”
“Doesn’t it grate upon you to enter like a mouse, through an errant crack?” Leonis craned his head back to take in the full height of the bronze doors. “As Great Souls, it’s more fitting for us to—”