“Ready,” breathed the large man, crouching beside them. “Follow.”
Leonis slipped away doubled over, moving with surprising ease despite his size, and they followed, slinking along the wall and as far from the balustrade as possible.
Second Clay had given way to the night cycle, and the sound of rain falling against the windows that ringed the base of the vast dome was a constant susurrus. They crept past endless coffers, and Scorio wondered what each contained. What cryptic hints at previous lives, lost identities, what treasures, what wonders.
They reached the end of the balcony, and there found a tight, spiral staircase embedded within the wall that wound up and down. Leonis paused, listening carefully, then gestured for them to follow and made his way down.
So tight was the stairwell, so steep the drop between each step, that they descended almost one above the other, turning constantly, hand on the inner column.
Down one floor, then out onto the lowest balcony, to crouch and pause as they pressed back against the coffers, waiting, listening to see if their presence had been detected.
Below, dangerously close, Scorio could hear the soft murmur of voices. Two guards were talking quietly to each other. How close were they? Was it a trick of the acoustics?
They weren’t on patrol, however, so Scorio ghosted forward, doing his best to make each step silent as he crossed over pockets of weeds growing out of the cracks and thick roots put out by the ivy plants that fingered out across the stone floor, along the coffers and marking the numbers as he went.
His pulse began to hammer the closer he drew to 37. When finally he found it, he stopped and simply stared, drinking in the anonymous coffer that blended in with all the others.
Its face was a series of subtly recessed and nested rectangles, the panels painted black, the drops between them gold. In the center was a large, dull gem.
“Place your hand on the gem,” whispered Lianshi. “That will cause the door to disappear.”
“Disappear?” asked Scorio, surprised.
To which Lianshi simply nodded.
And with the moment upon him, he found himself barely able to breathe, to think above the roar of his pulse in his ears. He reached out and palmed the gem. Its interior flickered as if it had become a miniature storm cloud and then the door faded away, revealing a spacious chamber large enough for a throne.
Scorio blinked, the shock of what he was seeing taking a moment to register, followed by crushing disappointment.
The locker was starkly empty.
Defeat closed its fist about his heart and squeezed.
Leonis patted his back sympathetically, and Scorio was about to turn away, drowning in a wave of bitterness, when Lianshi slipped past him and stepped inside.
Moved to the back wall and raised her hand, hesitant, only to trace something that had been incised into the stone itself.
“What is it?” whispered Leonis.
She glanced back reluctantly. “Scorio, come see.”
Not daring to feel hope, he stepped in beside her and realized that letters had been cut into the rock itself.
A name.
Carved in block letters, each an inch deep.
Jova Spike.
Chapter 28
They gathered in the abandoned cellar below, and as Leonis pressed the secret door closed, Scorio raked his hands through his hair and began to pace.
“What was that?” He reached the far wall, turned, and glared at his friends. “Jova Spike? What’s her name doing up there?”
“An autograph?” suggested Leonis weakly.
“Did she take all my history?” Scorio resumed pacing. “Leave her name behind to mock me? Were we enemies in a past life?”
“Doesn’t seem like her,” said Lianshi pensively, moving to crouch down, back to a large crate. “She’s quiet, composed, very intense. Close to a few friends but treats everyone else like strangers. If she made a move like that, I’ve the feeling she’d take your belongings and leave. Not take the time to carve her name on the wall.”
“And that wasn’t just a simple scrawl,” said Leonis. “You see how deep those letters were etched? And how carefully? Whoever did that wanted that name to survive the test of time.”
“Then…” Scorio stopped and stared blankly at the wall. “Then what am I to make of it?”
“Maybe whoever took your stuff wanted to aim you at her,” said Leonis uneasily. “Misdirect you. Start a fight.”
“Maybe,” said Scorio, and then with a sigh he let the tension go and dropped his hands to his sides. “But why?”
Lianshi was tapping her chin, eyes unfocused, deep in thought.
“What are the facts?” Leonis crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Your belongings are gone, and the name of the most dangerous Great Soul in our cohort was carefully carved into the wall. Carefully and cleanly carved. Whoever did that had time and firm intent.”
“How do people open other Great Souls’ lockers, anyway?” asked Scorio. “Do they manipulate the gem?”
“Shockingly, we’ve not yet been instructed on how to break into each other’s lockers,” said Leonis.
“We know more than just those two pieces of information,” said Lianshi quietly. “The locker belongs to one Scorio, a Red Lister who has reborn only six times.”
“Great,” said Leonis. “I approve of the completionist approach. What other basic facts can we establish? That we all tend to go to the bathroom approximately eight hours after a meal?”
Lianshi scowled at him. “We know that lockers can be raided by the sufficiently powerful. Scorio reached Blood Baron. That’s enough to warrant notice, besides his being a Red Lister. What are the odds that any treasure or memento he’d leave in his locker would go unmolested?”
Leonis smoothed down his short beard. “Practically none. They’d break in the moment he died.”
Lianshi smiled. “Correct. And who else would have known this?”
“I would have,” said Scorio slowly. “Wait. Are you suggesting I left the locker empty on purpose?”
Leonis pushed off the wall. “And that he wrote Jova’s name there himself?”
Lianshi shrugged. “Who knows? But Scorio is not obviously criminally stupid. If he’d reached a high rank and knew death was upon him, why would he gift his belongings to the Academy by leaving them in a soon-to-be raided locker?”
“She likes you,” said Leonis, smiling at Scorio. “’Not obviously criminally stupid’? That’s genuinely high praise.”
Scorio bit his lower lip, staring out into middle distance, mind racing. “That makes sense. I’d know the Academy would raid my belongings. The last thing I’d do would be to make an indirect donation.”
“But say you wanted to communicate something to your next incarnation. That’s what the lockers are for,” continued Lianshi. “We leave ourselves journals, directives, treasure. Things to help and guide our future selves. Say you wanted to do the same for yourself, but knew your locker would be raided. What would you do?”
“What would I do?” asked Scorio, eager to hear her opinion.
“No,” said Lianshi impatiently. “I’m asking you. You’re the one who did it. What would you do?”
Scorio cupped his hands over his mouth and nose and slid down the wall into a crouch. Pondered. “My locker would be of no use. There’d be no point in creating a hidden cache somewhere in Bastion, because how would I tell the new me how to find it? Any obvious clue would be followed up on by my locker raiders.”
Leonis grinned. “Perhaps you’d leave the clue or your information with someone nobody would mess with in their right mind.”
“Jova Spike,” they all said in unison.
A frisson of excitement passed through Scorio. “You think she might have something of mine in her locker?”
Lianshi was brushing the tip of her nose with a lock of hair. “Perhaps.”
“Problem.” Leonis grimaced. “Jova’s not exactly the approachable type.”