“Left,” called out Scorio, almost tripping over as he veered out of the main street down which they ran, the sight of huge tentacles clumsily feeling their way around the distant corner ahead of them suddenly changing his planned approach. They scrambled, bolted down the side street, and for the length of the first ruined block kept glancing behind them to see if they were being pursued.
“This way.” Scorio raced over to a collapsed wall, ran fleet-footed up the mountain of rubble, then leaped off the top to the closest roof. Landing in a crouch, he took off at a jog, angling out wide to avoid whatever had been coming around the corner to course correct and resume their route to the Old Academy.
“Gah!” Leonis crashed onto the rooftop and then rushed to catch up. He looked heavy and clumsy compared to Lianshi, who, ever since making Emberling, had gained a preternatural form of grace.
“All right,” said Scorio, jumping over a retaining wall and down to a lower rooftop. Paused for the others to land next to him, then continued running. “So we found a book.”
“A Review of Quantics,” said Lianshi, not even winded.
“A review of what?”
“Quantics. It’s a game Imperial Ghost Toads play at their parliaments. It’s how they determine who gets the best mates.”
“A mating game?”
“Exactly. Far as I can tell, there’s a good amount of strategy involved. This author, Sebastian Bufo, actually entered one of the parliaments and recorded the rules and strategies the reigning Toad champions used to get the best mates.”
“Wait,” said Leonis, lengthening his stride as they rushed to the end of the roof and out over a perilously narrow archway that spanned the street below to the building across the street. “We’re going to give Nox dating advice?”
“It’s a fascinating game,” said Lianshi.
“You read it?” asked Leonis, incredulous.
“Of course I read it!” She glared at him, then flipped her hair behind her shoulder dismissively. “It’s tonal. Two rounds. The first consists of three quick challenges executed in a row. Low basso rumble beats high pitched squawk, which beats what Bufo called the brazen croak, which in turn beats the basso rumble.”
“So a game of chance?”
“Not quite.” She paused to vault lightly over the peak of the roof then slide down the other side, catch her foot in the broken gutter, and then leap lightly down to the street below. When Leonis and Scorio dropped next to her, she continued as they picked up their run.
“Who wins each of the first three challenges, and with what sound, determines the context of the second round, forming the environment that the true battle takes place in. There are over a hundred possible variations on the first round, and the contestants then issue forth songs that weave those results into a combative epic. Whoever unites the first round’s variables best and most insultingly wins the quantic.”
“A song battle,” said Leonis.
“But it’s so much more. The toads evoke their history, the odors of their desired mates and hated enemies, and play tonal tricks with the landscape established by the first round, each of which correlates to different story elements for them to work with. It’s incredibly complex.”
“Fine,” said Leonis, raising both hands. “I’m suitably impressed and also very sorry for these amorous toads. Sounds like a headache. But what’s that got to do with us.”
“A Review of Quantics lists the elements of over a dozen winning songs from a massive parliament held centuries ago,” said Scorio. “We’re going to entice Nox to help us by offering it to him as a bribe.”
“So he can cheat at his next parliament?” Leonis grinned. “I like it. What’s he going to do for us?”
“That Scorio won’t share,” said Lianshi, shooting an angry glare at him. “But I can guess. It has to do with their engorging technique.”
“Delightful Secret Marinating technique,” corrected Scorio.
“But Scorio’s not an Imperial Ghost Toad,” protested Leonis, taking a deep breath as they rounded a corner and entered a broad avenue that speared across the last third of the ruins. “Unless he’s planning to compete in the parliament now that he’s out of the tournament?”
“Ha,” said Scorio. “Ha, ha, ha. Watch it.”
“Engorgement causes the fiend to continuously and passively absorb mana from the environment,” said Lianshi, still staring hard at Scorio. “But the mana appears in the fiend’s body as a physical substance, filling their bodies like water does a sponge. It would kill a Great Soul, and is why the Academy hasn’t pursued it as a viable means of advancement.”
“True,” said Scorio.
“That’s all he’ll say. Which is why we’re coming. To prevent him from doing something irreparably stupid.”
“We’d have to sit on him to do that,” said Leonis.
“Just wait,” called Scorio, and as they ran into a rich seam of dense Coal mana, he inhaled some deeply into his Heart, ignited it, and put on greater speed. “You’ll see!”
Ten minutes later, they jogged out onto the monolithic bridge, across the great chasm and toward Nox’s ruined shell of a home.
“Nox?” Scorio slowed, stopped. “Nox, you around?”
His voice echoed off the stark walls, the bleak streets, and Leonis and Lianshi both turned in a slow, wary circle, examining the city about them.
Movement within the rubble, then the great toad leaped into view to land atop his customary perch.
“Favorite friends Scorio, Leonis, Lianshi.”
“Great,” muttered Leonis. “He knows our names.”
“We’ve a gift for you,” said Scorio, moving forward with his hands held out wide. “Something we think you’ll really love.”
Nox quirked his head to one side, his broad throat working, his sticky feet adjusting their grip on the rock. Thick dollops of Coal mana oozed down his forearms to spill out between the digits and smear across the rock. “Gift?”
“You’re a handsome Imperial Ghost Toad,” said Scorio, drawing closer, grinning widely. “Adept at the hunt, charismatic, good at making friends. It would be a shame if you didn’t take advantage of every angle at the next parliament to mate with the most beautiful lady toads around.”
Nox quirked his eyeless head in the other direction, his body otherwise going still. He said nothing but entered that state of aggressive attention that made the air around him quiver.
“So what have your favorite friends done?” Scorio reached into his robe and drew out the slender book. “We’ve unearthed a human account of a parliament from centuries ago. Sebastian Bufo attended as a guest and wrote down the songs and strategies of the great winners. He marked down their first-round ploys, and how they then used the results in startlingly unique ways to befuddle and confuse their foes.” Scorio tapped the book. “All in here. The best strategies he could find.”
“Quantic? You have quantic strategies?”
“Over a dozen complete ones, with the rest of the book accounting for all the variables and approaches Sebastian witnessed.” Scorio’s grin widened. “All yours if you but do me a favor.”
Nox adjusted his position on his perch nervously, his throat swelling out then sinking back in. “Favor?”
“Teach me your Delightful Secret Marinating technique,” said Scorio, voice turning serious. “Teach me the technique, and I’ll personally read you every page of this book.”
It was next to impossible to read the toad’s expression, to divine his thoughts from his broad and inscrutable visage, but the toad went very still.
Scorio held the book aloft, and for a second thought Nox would steal it away, capture it with his tongue, and retreat into the tunnels.
But no. After a moment’s consideration, the toad raised its head a fraction. “Why Scorio wish to learn Delightful Secret Marinating technique? Is secret.”