So he told her. About Havert and Hestia, Sal and Nissa. Their cave, their plan, the contraption made of ropes and wheels that had allowed them to haul open the Brass Door, and the fiend that had come through.
“A purple mox,” she said. “I can see how that would tear through a bunch of Chars.”
“Because you’d have been able to stop it?”
Her amused silence was all the answer he received.
So he continued with his tale, but when he reached the part involving Radert’s corpse, he didn’t mention the chalk. Just omitted that one detail and kept going, right up to the point where he emerged into Bastion and saw the sun-wire for the first time.
“Your whole story is ridiculously improbable,” said the woman. “And that you accomplished all that as a Char? You’ve been blessed with equally ridiculous luck.”
“Are you saying I was lucky to survive my bad luck?”
“Precisely so.” Again that sense of amusement. “But all right. So how did you come across these vials?”
He moved quickly through the rest of the story, and she made no further comment, not as he spoke of following Helena and Feiyan, of his meeting with Dola, and his ill-fated mission in the skycrane yard. How he chose to retreat to the ruins and focus on trying to ignite his Igneous Heart.
“It hasn’t been going well, has it?” she asked.
“No,” said Scorio, shifting his weight uneasily on the stone floor. “Not yet, at any rate. I had hopes of managing it soon, however, right up till you showed up.”
“Tragic.” Her tone made it clear she thought it was anything but. “But unsurprising, despite your obvious luck and talent. You can’t ignite a Heart without knowing what you’re doing.”
“Then tell me,” he said, leaning forward. “How is it done?”
She rose smoothly to her feet, and in the depths of darkness, her form shifted, growing taller, more angular, skeletal, and terrifying. “Alas,” she whispered. “We’re out of time. Thank you for the entertainment. Perhaps we’ll meet again in a few centuries’ time.”
“Wait,” said Scorio, climbing to his feet. “You don’t need to do this. I can leave the area, I can go into the city proper.”
“You’re right. I don’t need to do this. But I’ve a reputation to maintain. If I start letting people go, people will start thinking I’m really not all that dangerous. And where would that leave me?”
“I’ll obviously keep my mouth shut.”
“Sure you would. No. It’s been… surprisingly enjoyable to meet you, Scorio the Abhorred. But all good things must come to an end.”
“Then—a proposal.”
She paused.
His mind raced. “I’m just a Char, right? You’re a mighty Emberling?”
“Watch your tone.”
“Oh, I am.” He rubbed his sweaty palms on his hips. “You’re bored. Don’t deny it. So, a little more entertainment. A challenge.”
He could barely make out her massive tail as it swayed languorously through the air, and realized almost too late that her silence was permission to speak on. “You’ve got your territory, don’t you? I’m sure it’s a secure location. You know the alleys, the hidey holes. My challenge is this: I’ll take you down within the next three days. And if I do, you’ll agree to teach me how to ignite my Igneous Heart.”
She scoffed. “You’ll simply run the moment I leave.”
“Run where? To do what? I told you, I want nothing from the Dola’s of this world. I want to ignite my Igneous Heart, and you just said it can’t be done without instruction. I need what you know. So I’ll fight you for it.”
“You.” She paused. “Will defeat me.” Not a question. A repetition, as if she were tasting the words, trying them on for size.
“Within three nights. If I’ve failed by the end of the third night, just hunt me down and kill me.”
She straightened from her crouch. “Intriguing. More amazing still, I believe you mean it. Though were I in your position, I’d probably be willing to do the same. All right. Three nights. I’ll be waiting for you, Scorio. And this will be the last game you play.”
“Great.” He fought the urge to exhale in relief. “Then I’ll be seeing you around, Nightmare Lady.”
“Sooner than you think.” And she drifted through the room, a dark, angular mass, and disappeared back out through the window.
For long, aching moments Scorio just stood there, heart pounding, then he hurried to the center of the room and dropped to his knees. He felt around and picked up the chalk.
The bridge and steel bar, however, were gone.
Chapter 15
The next morning Scorio took his buckets into town, spent a couple of hours surreptitiously lining up for gruel and water, and then made his way carefully back into the ruins.
He returned to Feiyan and Helena’s old hideout, then turned to face the direction they’d warned him to steer clear of.
Nightmare Lady’s territory.
How big a space was it?
Wanting a better vantage, he made his way to the tallest building close by, a tower leaning drunkenly over to one side, and carefully climbed to the top, using the mostly collapsed interior stairwell that went round and round the tower’s hollow curvature. It took him a good hour to make it to the top, and despite the fact that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get back down, he settled with his back against a shard-pitted, gray stone wall that was all that remained of the highest floor and stared out over the ruins.
It was well into First Clay at this point, and the sun-wire’s bronzed light limned the craggy buildings. The deep ravines that had consumed some of the avenues burned on, their fiery depths speaking to hellish mysteries contained deep within the earth. The buildings were monumental in nature, their architecture brutal and blocky and without ornamentation. Some were so large he couldn’t guess at how they had been built, towering ten, twelve, fourteen stories tall. Great slab-like bridges extended over roads, others merely jutted out a half-dozen yards before ending raggedly.
All made from the same gray, shale-like rock, cracked and flaking.
Had the city been built, or carved out? Studying the scope of the ruins, shorn of all the decorations and disguises of civilization, Scorio began to suspect the latter.
Leaning forward, he stared at the area Feiyan had indicated belonged to the Nightmare Lady. It looked to be in the worst condition, yet also the most striking. Entire segments had given way to the depths, so that passage through it had to be done mostly across brutal bridges that jutted out over crimson and orange-hued chasms. Some of the buildings appeared to be completely hollow, shells standing over those infernal depths, for their windows glowed from within with a faint, burning smolder.
And above them all reared a huge tower, perhaps the tallest building in this section of the ruins, listing slightly to the side and pointing at the sun-wire like an accusing finger.
Scorio tapped his chin, considering.
Nightmare was an Emberling. That was just one level above a Cinder, which meant… what exactly? She couldn’t have too many powers. Perhaps she could only change into her monstrous form.
But that was already an insurmountable challenge. In her nightmare form, she had incredible mobility, impossible reflexes, and a tail that would impale him before he got close enough to fight her.
He had to use his chalk to trap her, which meant being inside a building. There was no way he’d have enough time to encircle her outside. Better to close off doors and windows.
He frowned, dissatisfied.
That required figuring out where she slept and having the ability to chalk off her exits without alerting her to his presence. And since she knew she was being hunted, she’d be cagey, sleep in places that could only be accessed in her agility-enhanced form.
Scorio let out a sigh and fought not to feel discouraged.
What advantages did he have? The chalk. She’d not picked up on its power, and wouldn’t expect or account for its abilities. Her arrogance. She was amused by him, but gave him absolutely no chance of succeeding. And time. Time in which to strategize, to gather his resources.