“Xandera got really intense when I mentioned the magma giant,” he whispered back. “Something’s going on.”
The floor ahead sloped down so sharply that it became a funnel, just like the one that descended into the caldera, its mouth glimmering with faint orange light. Looking up, Scorio saw a massive chute positioned directly above it, its edges roughened by petrified splatters. The floor was similarly pitted and pocked with black splotches, as if a volcanic eruption had cast gobbets of magma even to this distance.
“There,” said Naomi, pointing off to the side. “Another way down?”
They approached a rectangular opening. There was no staircase or ramp, though Scorio thought he could see the remnants of something that had once been part of the wall.
“Looks like something shattered the way down,” he said.
“Luckily, we’ve got wings.”
“We?”
“You’re going to make me climb?”
He ignited his Heart and extended his leathery wings, keeping them as small as possible so that they’d fit in the chute. “I guess not.”
She moved behind him then hesitated. He glanced over his shoulder. “Need an invitation?”
“Don’t be stupid.” And she wrapped her arms around his neck and hopped up onto his back.
Scorio took a step and dropped into the chute.
He allowed them to fall at first, wings readied, and they plummeted down toward an ever brighter orange light.
At last they dropped into a cavernous space. The air reeked of sulfur and was made dim by a fine, ambient smoke. Through this miasma Scorio saw a turgid lake of darkened lava, great concentric ripples of orange burning through the arcs of congealed black crust. It lay, thick and dense and smoldering between craggy outcroppings of sharp-edged rocks that rose, tower-like, into the fumes.
Scorio snapped open his wings so that they carved the air in a sudden glide. He willed his wings to widen, and the hot air baking off the rumpled black sheet below lifted them up easily.
The scale of this underworld cavern defied his comprehension; the distances were hidden by curtains of choking fog, which were lit from below in hellish hues by the occasional raw rivulet of magma waterfalling down an outburst of rock, or areas where the lava lake flowed at a greater incline, and there, due to the increased speed, shed its black coat to reveal its viscous golden interior.
For a moment, it was all Scorio could do to bank and turn, circle and peer below, eyes watering from the heat and noxious gases. It was akin to flying within a great oven, and were his Heart not ignited and his body Gold-tempered, he doubted he’d have been able to remain aloft here for long.
There was no sign of life. He half-expected to see the Gold fiends from the Crucible, massive lizards basking in the mana, but no; there were no fiends at all. The air, however, was rich and vibrant with Iron, shot through with powerful seams of Bronze, and all of it flowing and made fluid by the heat.
That couldn’t be right. Temperature didn’t affect mana. But the Iron felt more liquid here, more malleable.
“Can you sense him?” Naomi called in his ear. “Nox?”
Scorio resisted the urge to close his eyes and instead allowed his awareness to sink deeper, his senses to reach out further, and - there.
He wheeled, plunged into a great shuddering column of smoke that rose from a vent far below, and entered a great curve to fly around a column of raw-edged black rock that rose like a defiant arm from the magma.
Down, ever down, the hot air washing over him, until at last he saw, perched atop a crag from whose vantage he could gaze over the ruinous lake, the squat and ponderous form of an Imperial Ghost Toad.
“Nox!”
The toad half-turned, powerful limbs working, and angled his broad body to peer up at Scorio with the blank hollows of his eyes. “Favorite friends!”
Scorio felt his heart pound with joy. Never would he have guessed that the sight of a fiendish toad would raise his spirits so. He curved into a final, tight swoop, came in fast, and banked at the last second to hit the ground running and stopping before the giant toad.
As ever, his back and legs were blacker than the densest shadows, Coal mana oozing off him like thick oil. His stomach and the soft underside of his jaw however were a lighter gray, the skin dusty and textured like that of an old man.
Nox’s broad mouth curved into a smile, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed several times, his feet making sucking sounds as he settled in before them both. “Favorite friend Scorio, favorite friend Naomi. Now Nox happy. Long I wait for you here in the blazeborn belly. Not safe here. We go?”
“I wish that I could, old friend.” Scorio grinned as he drank in the sight of the toad. “And sorry to keep you waiting. We were coming for you when we ran into a Ferric Drake.”
“Poor Ferric Drake.”
Scorio laughed. “Especially after this giant magma fiend grabbed hold of it and dragged it under the lava.”
Nox turned to gaze out over the molten lake. “One such watch us even now.”
Scorio whipped around and stared wide-eyed at the vast lake. “Wait - you can sense one in there?”
“Dense Iron mana. Powerful. Strange blazeborn.”
“Strange?” Scorio fought the urge to edge back. “So it is a blazeborn?”
Nox quirked his head. “Blazeborn Titan.”
“No, we’ve seen the Titans,” said Naomi. “They’re big, but the one that caught the Ferric Drake was huge.”
Nox shifted his weight and just stared eyelessly at her.
“Wait,” said Scorio. “If that’s a Titan, then it’s… it’s under the queen’s control?”
“Nox not ask.”
“You’ve spoken with it?”
“Nox await favorite friends here. Nox polite Imperial Ghost Toad.”
“Man, it’s good to see you again.” Scorio beamed. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“I do,” said Naomi. “Nox. Can you teach me the Delightful Secret Marinating technique?”
Nox considered her for a moment, then shook his whole body slowly from side to side. “Yes and no.”
“Alright.” Naomi hesitated, eyes narrowing. “What does that mean?”
“Nox delaying evolution to Emperor Wraith Toad. Naomi should wait. Emperor Wraith jelly much better, more potent.”
“Congratulations,” grinned Scorio. “You said that was coming. You can evolve now?”
“Can, but this not good location. Nox desire perfection of environment, and soothing croon of a hundred eager mates. Nox travel to Radiant Pools of Gold.”
“Well, I’ll settle for the old-fashioned jelly,” said Naomi. “Honestly. I just need to learn the technique.”
“Why?”
“Why?” She glowered at Scorio. “It allowed this guy to master a Pyre Lord mana manipulation technique that’s incredibly valuable, and which’ll probably allow him to make Dread Blaze soon. I don’t want to be left behind.”
“Favorite friend Naomi wish to be perfect mate for favorite friend Scorio.”
“What?” Naomi recoiled, her face going pale then flushing. “No! What? No, I don’t want to be his perfect mate, I want to be powerful, that’s all -”
Scorio felt his own face burn. “Ah, Nox, we’re - well. We’re companions, Naomi and I, and she -”
“Seriously.” Naomi laughed scornfully. “What makes you even think -”
Nox wiggled from side to side. “Scorio and Naomi strong, create a thousand young. Many eggs, much tadpoles. Also, mating very rewarding activity. Good exercise. After, both can sing triumphant song of Imperial Exaltation.”
Scorio forced himself to stop and collect his wits. “I - I mean, we really appreciate your advice. But that’s something we’re, ah…” Words failed him.