“House Basilisk steals and cheats the other Houses for profit. How can you work with them?”
“The truth is that they’re weak. You’ve heard about how all the Houses banded together to try and fulfill the Empyreal Prophecy?”
“Didn’t work out so well.”
“No. Especially for House Basilisk. They lost both their Imperators in the attack, Zellair and Joranvyn. House Hydra lost Imogen, but retained three others, one of them being your Sol the Just.”
“He’s not mine.”
Nissa smirked. “That loss made House Basilisk easy pickings for Hydra and Kraken. They’ve lost much of their wealth and power, and recruitment rates from top graduates from the Academy have plummeted.”
“How do you know all this?”
“My mentor. But weakness breeds desperation. Basilisk will do anything for power, including, as you said, shady dealings. But more importantly, no House is so invested in shaking up the current power structure. Which is why I was embedded in the rebellion and told to assist in whichever way I could.”
Scorio scowled. “Wait. You’re just a Basilisk operative?”
“Between you and me?” She slung a lean arm around his shoulders. “I couldn’t care less about Basilisk’s future. But everything is a means to an end. I needed training, elixirs, and support to survive out here. They provide all of that if I agree to mouth certain oaths and throw in with their efforts. So here I am, happy to work for one House against the others, aiding the rebellion, and getting my vengeance regardless of what takes place.”
“I see.” Scorio diplomatically disengaged himself from her arm. “Can’t fault you for that. So Basilisk approves of my going to the White Queen?”
“Oh yes.” Nissa waved her hand airily. “Eira was—how did my mentor put it?—wroth that she didn’t get to speak with either the White Queen or Sol when they were here last. A wasted opportunity. If you speak with the White Queen now and bring her to Bastion, she’ll have a chance to influence events. Or so she hopes.”
“Eira? The Autocrator of House Basilisk?”
“The very same.”
Scorio stared at Nissa. “You chat with the Autocrator of House Basilisk?”
“Well, not in person, exactly. But my mentor is quite candid about how things stand.”
“As long as she supports change in favor of the people of Bastion…”
Nissa shrugged. “She says she does. But you know she just supports change in favor of House Basilisk. In this case, though, it may be the same thing. Depriving Hydra and Kraken of power would suit Eira just fine.”
“Hey, Scorio!” Leonis’s call rang clear. “Get back here, we have a question for you.”
“Excuse me?” Scorio smiled, relieved for an excuse to drop back.
Nissa’s gaze was knowing. “Of course.”
Leonis gazed around the group as if checking on interest the moment Scorio joined them. “I can’t control my curiosity any longer. Is nobody interested in asking this madman how he came first? Are we all just accepting it as another example of how the odds are as nothing to him?”
Naomi looked strangely hesitant. “How did you all fare? I’m still furious that I didn’t get past the tenth room.”
“I got sucked into a funnel trap,” said Lianshi bitterly. “Turns out being invulnerable isn’t the answer to every threat.”
“Whereas I was killed by those little bastards again.” Leonis raised his eyebrows. “I’m not kidding. Scorio and I were swarmed by them. There were—what—hundreds of them, Scorio? Am I wrong in remembering thousands?”
“Doesn’t matter how many there were, they weren’t a match for the Golden King.” Scorio felt a knot of emotion arise within him, and heard again his friend’s final rasping words before he died. “Your sacrifice, my friend. It made all the difference. It was after you fell that I made Tomb Spark.”
Leonis frowned, considered these words, then nodded sharply. “Well, good. If I had to throw my life away to save your sorry ass, it’s only fitting that it resulted in your latest miracle.”
“I still can’t believe you’re a Tomb Spark,” said Lianshi. “That’s insane. You have a Shroud? What’s your new power?”
Everyone stared at him with open curiosity, and Scorio laughed shakily and rubbed the back of his head. The moment felt intensely surreal; since being reborn, he’d felt so far behind his friends in every way that to have them gaze admiringly at him was… bizarre.
“I have a Shroud. Just like Jova. It’s, ah, well. A floating shield I can summon. But it drains my mana faster than you’d believe. Strictly for emergencies, I guess.”
“It’s like your dark vision,” cut in Lianshi. “The higher you advance, the bigger and better it becomes. When you make Pyre Lord it becomes a perfect sphere that protects you from all sides.”
“Could have used that in the Gauntlet. Reaching Tomb Spark made a world of a difference. The second trial…” Scorio trailed off, enjoying everybody’s eager anticipation. “Well, you know what they say. Best if you don’t know about it till you reach it yourself.”
“No!” shouted Lianshi.
Leonis scowled and shoved Scorio’s shoulder, making him stagger. “That’s just cruel. Can’t you tell us anything?”
“I guess I haven’t even had time to process what happened yet. But I healed up and tore through the next handful of rooms. Tomb Spark lets me sense hidden traps or invisible forces, things that would have killed me in seconds.”
“And your new power?” prompted Lianshi.
Jova and her friends had crowded in behind, and even Nissa had fallen back a bit to listen in.
“I don’t have a good grasp of it yet.” Scorio tried not to flush. “It’s a mental or emotional effect, throws people off. I’m still figuring out the nuances.”
They all slowed and came to a stop as Nissa paused at the alley exit to look up and down a broad avenue. The smell of smoke was thicker in the air, and all the shutters were closed along this block.
“Pretty eerie for things to be this deserted,” said Leonis.
“Word’s gotten out,” said Nissa quietly. “I’m sure the Autocrators are confused. I think we can risk crossing here to get to the canal.”
“Scorio, you’re sure your friends can get us in touch with Manticore?” asked Jova.
“Feiyan made the offer. She’s… tough. Real tough, and reliable. She’d not have mentioned the possibility if it weren’t real.”
While Jova looked as fierce and focused as ever, Juniper and Zala were clearly growing more unsettled by the moment.
“You don’t have to do this,” said Scorio softly. “I know you didn’t sign up for a trek across the Rascor Plains to meet with the White Queen. You heard Octavia’s offer. You can still change your mind.”
“We’re good,” said Jova firmly.
Juniper nodded, and Zala hitched her pack up on her bony shoulder. Scorio waited to see if anybody would comment but then nodded to Nissa, who loped out across the avenue.
They followed, feeling painfully exposed, but soon ducked into another side street.
A couple of blocks later, Nissa led them down the broad steps to the canal, and then turned to where the entrance to The Flame stood.
There was no crowd. The copper light was unlit, and no doorman stood at attention. The front door was solidly shut, and the whole canal street had the distinct air of abandon.
“This the place?” asked Jova, her skepticism clear.
“Early hours.” Scorio moved past Nissa to the entrance. “Plus, I’m willing to bet people aren’t feeling that festive these days.”
He hammered his fist on the door. The echoes rang down the street. No answer. They waited. His friends, too nervous to chat, turned about to investigate the environs.
Again Scorio hammered his fist on the door, hard enough to make it shake on its hinges. He could picture Feiyan scowling inside, looking up from a table covered in paperwork, perhaps, willing him to go away.