Mickie stood upon a bridge of glittering gold, looking down upon a cavern filled with fire and brimstone. Screams echoed up from below, the chorus of countless mortals. Some begged for forgiveness, others for mercy, many more repented upon their sins, not knowing that it was already too late. Once you were here, there was no going back.

  Hardest on his ears, however, were those who wailed without words. Those beyond anything but the pain, broken beyond repair. Sighing, Mickie stretched out arms coloured a deep shade of red and prepared to head off. Time to clear a bit of space for the new arrivals.

  He strolled along the golden bridge and into a golden building. Mickie continued down a long, winding flight of glittering stairs until the air was thick with heat. He stepped out into the fiery pits, eyes scanning the countless mortals. They were pinned in place by chains of burning gold, bound by the substance which they so cherished in life.

  It was supposed to be poetic, though for the most part Mickie just found it tiresome. The mortals called out to him as he walked the rocky paths above the pits. It was the same screaming and begging he had heard from above, though perhaps a little more directed. Mickie felt nothing at their cries except for a dull feeling of disgust.

  Would silence not be preferable? Or perhaps an end of some kind. If these mortals could die in their last life, then why not let them pass on from this one too. All this endless torment did was hurt Mickie’s ears.

  Soon enough the branded man found what he was looking for amongst the sea of stone and flame. A mortal with a deadened look to them, one whose cries were closer to enthusiastic gurgles then real screams.

  Mickie stopped beside this one’s pit and worked the controls of a large winch embedded in the stone. The heavy chains which bound the mortal clanked and shifted, dragging the sorry creature out of their fiery torment. Freed from pain, this human did not sob or gasp in relief. Instead, they simply fell limp in their bonds, almost as if they were dead.

  Pulling the mortal onto the stone walkway, Mickie undid the chains that bound them, casting the heavy gold aside, ready for use on another sorry soul. He prepared to drag the human to where they kept all the other lost, only for the figure to stir of their own accord. Curious, Mickie waited, watching as the mortal shifted, turned, and eventually stood under their own power.

  Then, without any further prompting, the haggard mortal began to walk away. It was rare that the lost did this, but not unheard of. Sometimes these broken mortals got it into their head to go on a walk, and would wander through Hell as if on some grand expedition. Mickie watched the figure stagger away, thinking that for something that was supposed to be lost, it sure looked like it knew where it was going.

  BIG LINE HERE

  It was closer to gaining clarity that coming awake. Mickie became less aware of himself as the Soul Lord, the fiery pits fading to be replaced by steel walls. He was inside some kind of room, laying down on something that could only have been a bed. Ziz’s big feathery head hung above him one large eye peering into his.

  ‘Hey.’

  Mickie said, and the bird blinked slowly in his direction.

  ‘Hello Mik. You shouldn’t be so lazy.'

  ‘Yeah, my bad.’

  The branded man pushed himself upright. He was indeed on a bed, one of many within a plain metal room. Strangely, the door to the space looked rather worse for wear, closer to a ragged, primordial shaped hole than a rectangle. Mickie eyed his avian companion.

  ‘You decided to guard me, did you?’

  ‘Yes. Kali and Mag are doing experiments, so I stayed to watch.’

  The big bird bobbed its head. Mickie pushed himself out of bed and onto his feet.

  ‘Thanks bud. Seeing as I’m up now, I suppose we should go and find them.’

  Mickie gave the primordial’s neck a grateful pat as he made for the exit. Unlike his usual dream visions, his most recent sojourn into the life of the Soul Lord stayed vivid, as if the events had happened moments ago. For a time, he had actually become Magareem, every thought the dead demon had felt like it had been his own.

  The experience left Mickie feeling tainted, as if the demon’s opinions and worldview had infected his own. Yet, when he thought back to the cause of the vision, that shining, silver substance, he did not experience the twang of revulsion. Instead, he recalled the feeling it had induced, that comfortable contentment he had felt.

  For once, he had been free of the stress, the pain, and the loathing. Free to simply exist for a time in peace. Perhaps if he had just a tiny bit of the substance, it would not bring about the visions. If he just had a little, he would be able to relax without sinking into the visions. Mickie began to wonder if Kalistra still had their last dose on hand, or if he would need to find some more. The flower gatherers were common enough, and by the looks of things, they had spare devices. It would not be an issue if he…

  Mickie froze mid step in the doorway out of the room, cool ice abruptly sliding down his spine. He had just been thinking about how terrible that vision had been, yet already he was considering exposing himself to more of the silver liquid. It made no sense, and yet, in a way, it also did. The metallic taste returned to him, the sense of relaxation. Mickie was not an idiot, he could moderate the amount he was exposed to, and his healing could handle any harmful effects, even if it was a little damaged.

  ‘Mik, are you okay?’

  Ziz asked from behind him. The branded man started, realising he had paused in the doorway of the room.

  ‘Yeah, I’m alright. Just spaced out for a second is all.’

  He stepped out of the room and through the damaged door of the building. Kalistra and Ziz were nearby, examining a stationary lost on the side of the road. As Mickie approached, he heard low whispers, and thought the pair were talking to one another. Only, it was just one voice that was speaking, and not one that belonged to the gorgon or demon.

  ‘Mary-Bell said she pick some up from the store. Shouldn’t have been more than an hour. I’ll sing to the roses then, maybe they’ll understand. If and when the thorns sharpen, then I will know…’

  It was the lost, a haggard man with a voice that rasped as raw as sandpaper. Mickie paused mid step as he approached, listening to the mortal speak. They rambled on without pause, stringing together sentences of what seemed to be pure nonsense.

  ‘Oh kid, you’re up. About damn time.’

  Miz-Mag had noticed Mickie, and was scrambling along the ground to reach him.

  ‘Yeah I’m up.’ He said, still focused on the rambling lost. ‘What’s going on with that guy?’

  ‘Little experiment.’ His partner said, scrambling up Mickie’s body to take up its usual spot. ‘Kali dosed him up with a bit of the silver stuff, just to see how he reacts.’

  The branded man felt a sudden and inexplicable flare of irritation at that. The thought that any of the liquid would go to waste on another made him angry. Yet at the same time, he knew that Kalistra was right to test the substance. They needed to understand what it was.

  ‘Welcome back.’ The gorgon asked, a few strands of hair turned in his direction. ‘Not feeling any adverse effects?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ Mickie said, too quickly. He took a slow breath to steady himself. ‘I’m fine. It’s out of my system now.’

  Both Kalistra and Miz-Mag paused for a moment, seemingly unconvinced.

  ‘Well.’ The gorgon eventually said. ‘I’m glad you’re alright. We thought, well you were saying some strange things.’

  Mickie stiffened. ‘I was talking?’

  ‘Yes.’ Ziz said, having reached them. ‘You kept talking about something being too noisy, that you just wanted some peace and quiet.’

  ‘Yeah kid.’ Miz-Mag gave him a long stare. ‘What was that all about?’

  Mickie winced, remembering the screams of the countless souls burning. He had yet to discuss his visions with the others, and now did not seem the right time.

  ‘Bad dream is all.’ He said, and turned towards the ragged mortal, still muttering away nearby. ‘Bit like what’s happening to this guy I think.’

  ‘Right.’ Kalistra said, not sounding entirely convinced. ‘Though what you were saying was a bit more coherent than this lost.’

  ‘Any clue as to what the substance actually is?’ He asked, glancing around for the collection device. Mickie found it not far from the feet of the lost, and a thrill ran through him.

  ‘I’ve got a few thoughts, based on what happened to you and out test subject.’ Kalistra said, her voice becoming more energetic. ‘First of all, it’s definitely some kind of sedative. Ingesting even a small amount appears to induce lethargy.’

  ‘Not lethargy, not completely.’ The branded man interrupted. ‘It’s closer to simple relaxation.’

  ‘Truly? It did not make you tired or exhausted?’ Kalistra turned hey eyeless gaze to him.

  ‘No, it was strange. I felt really relaxed, like nothing could bother me. It was less like I passed out, and more like I fell into my own mind, more like I was…’

  Mickie trailed of as a realisation came to him. Ever since the vision ended, he had felt slightly off. The silver liquid had played on his mind continuously, and he was growing far too easily irritated at those around him. He was a fool for not seeing it sooner.

  ‘Like you were what kid?’ Miz-Mag asked, prodding him in the neck.

  ‘Like I was high.’ He turned sharply to Kalistra. ‘It’s a drug. Ever since I came to, I’ve been thinking about it non-stop, wanting to try some more. Not just that, but I’ve been feeling irritable and annoyed.’

  ‘Symptoms of withdrawal.’ Kalistra murmured, nodding slowly. ‘Not a sedative then, but a hallucinogen, and a strong one.’

  ‘Exactly, I hardly had any at all, just one tiny dose, yet that’s all it took to just for the stuff to get its hooks in me.’

  Mickie began to pace. He could still feel the pull of the silver drug, but now he knew the reason behind it, he was better able to resist. Hopefully the feeling would fade soon.

  ‘So, a drug then, and not a normal one either.’ The gorgon mused. ‘Tell me Mickie, do you recall feeling anything from your soul when you were under its effects?’

  ‘My soul? Not particularly.’ The branded man replied.

  ‘How strange, the effect must be subtle then, if even the recipient does not notice it.’ Kalistra seemed pensive as Miz-Mag stirred. ‘That stuff definitely did something to your soul kid, I could feel it through our connection.’

  ‘A soul deep relaxation perhaps? That might explain why the lost react the way they do.’ The gorgon said, indicating the haggard mortal, still muttering with their eyes closed.

  Ziz, who had been eyeing the strange lost, shifted its attention to Kalistra. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Same here Kali.’ Miz-Mag agreed.

  ‘Well.’ The gorgon said slowly. ‘It has to do with the nature of the lost, and more specifically, the nature of their souls.’

  She tapped her scaly fingers against her thigh.

  ‘When a mortal becomes one of the lost, it is a process that involves the shattering of a mind and fraying of a soul. It is why they appear so emaciated in a realm where food is not required. Here, the body reflects the soul.’

  Miz-Mag gave a contemplative hum. ‘Right, I get that. They look like shit because they’re souls look like shit. Doesn’t tell me why the drug has them talkin’ nonsense.’

  ‘I’m getting to that.’ Kalistra replied with a sigh. ‘We know that the hallucinogen impacts the soul, likely calming it. For the lost, this would be like balm to a wound, or perhaps more aptly, water to a desert. The drug likely gives them some of themselves back for a time.’

  ‘So, their stuff their saying…’ Mickie muttered.

  ‘Memories.’ The gorgon finished for him. ‘Fragments of who the lost once was resurfacing.’

  The rambling of the ragged man suddenly held far more significance. Mickie listened for a time, trying to deduce who this person might have once been. He caught snippets within the mostly nonsensical mumbling, names and locations, repeated enough to be significant.

  ‘Weird.’ Miz-Mag eventually commented. ‘So, is that how they’re controlling the lost then? Using this drug?’

  There was a moment of silence as Kalistra thought over the idea.

  ‘No, I don’t think so. I don’t see how the soothing of a soul could lead to that kind of… automated control.’

  She started, a thought coming to her.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  ‘Although, Mickie, you mentioned the substance was addictive?’

  Kalistra waited for the branded man to nod before continuing.

  ‘Well then, were we not just considering why the substance is dumped into the pipes for the monster?’

  Realisation struck Mickie like a hammer. He had completely forgotten about the beast in the aftermath of his vision. Now though, he saw it. A system to keep a monster caged, and the mechanism by which it was unleashed upon the world.

  ‘It’s addicted.’ He muttered. ‘Addicted to the drug.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Kalistra’s reply was grim. ‘If this drug acts as I think it does, it would take quite a bit to effect a creature of that size. Though the amount we saw should do it.’

  ‘And I bet it’s built up a tolarance too. Takes a while for the drug to take hold. That’s why it still managed to get so worked up when we pulled out the light.’ Mickie ran his hands through his hair. ‘The big guy probably would have given up with or without the lamp once the drug took hold.’

  ‘Maybe kid.’ Miz-Mag said. ‘Or maybe the stinker’s so used to the stuff now it can just keep on pushing through.’

  ‘Either way, now we know what’s going to happen the next time it goes dark.’ Mickie continued. ‘I doubt a monster that needs its fix is going to play nice.’

  They all shared grim looks as Kalistra and Miz-Mag’s sorry test subject continued to ramble on the side of the road.

  ‘Didn’t you hear Mary-Bell? They call for us to come, they call for us to speak. I cannot remember the words though. Those terrible, hateful words. Perhaps you might.’

  BIG LINE HERE

  Now that Mickie was up, the group decided it would be best to return to the original ruins. Kalistra still wished to study the runes there, and it would make for a secluded base from which they could poke at the flower collector’s second tank.

  The walk back brought the four companions back through the city centre, right by the ruins of the metal platform. Mickie’s eyes tracked the queue of flower gatherers standing idle, so long now it almost reached a connecting street. His attention shifted to those repairing the broken structure, wondering just how long it would take them to make it usable. His dark thoughts were interrupted by Miz-Mag’s squeaky voice.

  ‘So Kali, you got any clue what our big friend actually is? I’ve learnt of a fair few monsters in my time, but I don’t know where to start with that giant.’

  ‘Maybe.’ The gorgon said. ‘I’ve had some thoughts, though nothing that quite matches with your description.’

  ‘So you’ve been holding out on us then, spill it.’ The demon stood up on its partner’s shoulder, excited. Mickie also had to admit he was interested; it would be good to know what was going to come screaming after them next time the lights went out.

  ‘Like I said. It is nothing that matches with your description.’ Kalistra sighed. ‘But if you must know, I thought it sounded like a Hecatoncheires.’

  ‘A what now?’ Miz-Mag asked, taken aback.

  ‘Hecatoncheires. They are an old creature, older even than my kind. Titans of immense strength, they are said to have one hundred arms and fifty heads.’

  The gorgon’s description brought back the memory of arms reaching up through the darkness, and the glimmer of countless eyes below.

  ‘That fits.’ Mickie said. ‘It was definitely big enough to be called a titan.’

  ‘Yes, some of the description fits. Though there are holes, characteristics that have never been attributed to the Hecatoncheires.’ The group exited the city centre, heading along a straight street as Kalistra continued. ‘Firstly, its fixation with your lamp. As far as I am aware the old titans had no issue with light. These certainly would not be enough to keep it at bay.’

  She nodded up at the lights hanging from the ceiling. ‘Next up was your mention of having glimpsed fur. The Hecatoncheires resembled mortals, some might have had hair, but fur is unlikely.’

  ‘I see.’ Mickie said pensively. ‘And there’s no chance one of these Hecatoncheires could have developed a fear of light? Or maybe adapted to the darkness in the sixth circle?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Miz-Mag chimed in. ‘And that fur could have been clothing or something.’

  ‘No, not clothing. I saw it on the body.’ Ziz said, turning its head to regard them.

  ‘See what I mean. It doesn’t quite fit.’ Kalistra put a hand to her face, as if to itch her empty eye sockets. She stopped short with a grimace. ‘I think if the monster were a Hecatoncheires, it would be more likely to make a den of this city then hide from it.’

  ‘Well, I still say it could have been clothes. Whatever bird brain thinks.’ Miz-Mag grumbled, giving the primordial a dirty look.

  They continued to speculate without much success, eventually making their way back to the half-broken stretch of buildings and overgrown green spaces. Reaching the only garden that held a semblance of order, the group found its resident lost in his usual spot, rigid on the park bench. Kalistra set down the open flower gathering device, careful not to spill any silver liquid from its punctured tank.

  ‘Well.’ She said, straightening to face the rest of the group. ‘Shall we see what else the flower has to offer?’

  They all agreed, and Mickie approached the machine, blade in hand. He glanced into its rune encrusted insides, and caught a glimmer of silver within. The hunger it brought on was sudden, fierce, but also expected. With an effort of will he pulled his eyes away, turning to the other tank.

  ‘Everybody ready?’

  After receiving a chorus of ascent, the branded man raised his blade, and jabbed it into the steel cylinder. He had already been standing to one side and swiftly danced away at the sight of gleaming liquid. A small spray of blue arced into the air, before falling harmlessly onto the garden soil. There came a collective release of tense breaths from somewhere behind him.

  ‘Well kid, I’m glad you didn’t pass out this time.’ Miz-Mag scurried over, carefully avoid any drops of the blue liquid. The little fiend clambered up the side of the device and peered inside.

  ‘That’s definitely the blue stuff.’ It said, ‘At least we found it.’

  ‘Yeah, might be your turn to have a taste, aye Mag?’ Mickie said, dismissing his weapon. The little demon tossed a rude gesture his way.

  ‘I have some initial things I would like to test.’ Kalistra said, coming to stand beside them. Once I’ve done that, we can locate somebody to test the substance on.’

  Everyone but Ziz, who had decided a nap was preferable, watched on as Kalistra got to work. The gorgon located a few bent scraps of metal. She used a large one as a bowl, and two others as scoops to extract liquid from both of the machine’s tanks. Into the bowl went a dash of each substance, glimmering as they dribbled down to eventually make contact. The instance they did, both streams of colour went inert, shifting and mixing like water.

  ‘Woah.’ Miz-Mag murmured.

  ‘Indeed.’ Kalistra gingerly reached a hand out and poked the mixture, eliciting no reaction. ‘This is what we saw when testing the flowers themselves. I thought this might happen from my examination of the machine’s runes.’

  ‘Is it exposure to air or something? They were fine mixing in the flowers.’ Mickie asked.

  ‘Perhaps.’ Kalistra slid the makeshift bowl aside, tipping its contents onto the soil. ‘Or it could be that the flower itself works to keep them from going inert. That would explain why picking the flower causes the mixing to happen at a slower rate.’

  Over the next half hour or so, the gorgon tried a variety of tests on the blue and silver liquids. She varied the volumes that mixed, she tipped some of each substance on plants in the garden, and even tried burying it in the soil. It was not until an experiment was run on the exposed runes that they saw something new.

  Using her makeshift scoop, Kalistra tipped a tiny portion of the blue liquid onto the exposed markings. It splashed into a puddle, but did not settle as normal water might. Instead, the shimmering blue began to quiver. Then it began to move, tendrils of liquid spliting from the central mass and spreading outwards. They bent and curved forming a shape, something that look very much like the runes upon with they sat.

  ‘Amazing.’ Kalistra breathed. ‘I’ve never seen anything of the like.’

  ‘What is it doing?’ Mickie asked, watching as the tendrils of blue shifted, moving in an ever-changing dance between shapes.

  ‘It is reacting. Reacting to the runes and their intent.’ The gorgon laughed in delight. ‘But of course it is, these liquids are tied to the soul. It is not surprising that things imbued with the soul would cause a reaction.’

  Hurriedly, before any of them could utter a question, she scooped up a bit of the silver liquid, dropping it onto another part of the runes. This substance reacted as normal however, spilling over the crimson symbols. Kalistra gave a thoughtful hum as she regarded the difference.

  ‘No change. But that is not entirely unexpected.’

  Miz-Mag cleared its throat, interrupting the gorgon’s train of thought.

  ‘Hey Kali, mind catching the rest of us up to speed?’

  ‘What? Oh, right.’ Kalistra started, a few strands of her serpentine hair turning to peer at them. ‘You know how water will disperse to fill the cracks of the container in which it is poured?’

  ‘Sure.’ The little demon said.

  ‘Well, this blue liquid appears to serve the same purpose, but for the soul.’ She explained, then sighed at her companion’s confused expressions. The gorgon cast about for something to help her convey what she meant, settling on the silver liquid resting atop the runes.

  ‘There, you see how the substance flows into the transcription, taking its physical shape? Well, the blue substance is doing the same, but instead the intent of the runes are the channels upon which it runs, and the shape that it takes.’

  Something about Kalistra’s use of the words channels made Mickie think of his own powers. When he looked inside himself, deep into the realm of his soul, he could see their shape. Just like Kalistra was saying, his abilities had paths upon which his power could flow.

  ‘Right, I think I get it.’ Miz-Mag said, definitely not sounding like it got it. ‘So, the blue stuff can read runes then. What use is that?’

  ‘Well, that depends.’ The gorgon glanced at the shifting liquid. ‘We’ll have to see what happens once it is done.’

  ‘Done?’ Miz-Mag asked.

  ‘Yes, just as water will eventually fill all the cracks in a bowl, this liquid will eventually fold into the intent of the runes. Do you see how it is slowing?’

  Indeed, the blue blob was becoming more sluggish in the shifting of its tendrils. Over the next minute or so, it continued to change shape, before abruptly going limp. The arms of liquid retracted, leaving a single, unblemished button of blue.

  ‘Intent had been read and accounted for. Now we shall see.’

  Kalistra murmured and scooped up the stilled liquid with a piece of scrap metal. It seemed more viscous to Mickie, in a state between water and jelly. The gorgon got it all onto her makeshift spoon and held it high, examining it with every strand of her serpentine hair.

  ‘Consistency holds even after contact is broken.’

  ‘Meaning?’ Miz-Mag asked, leaning forward on Mickie’s shoulder.

  ‘Meaning that the liquid holds intent even after parting from the runes.’ Kalistra said, her voice going soft. ‘Using our prior analogy, this would be like if we froze the water, then removed it from the container. It now holds the shape, without needing the mould.’

  Their serpentine companion released a breath, shaky with excitement.

  ‘I think I know now how the lost are instructed on what to do.’

  ‘You do?’ Mickie took a step forward. Kalistra nodded, slowly her free hand to point at the nearby park bench, indicating that ragged man who sat upon it.

  ‘Do you recall what that lost said to us?’ She asked. Mickie and Miz-Mag glanced at one another. The branded man shrugged while the demon answered.

  ‘Kinda. Something about the beast right?’

  ‘Not just the beast.’ Kalistra said. ‘He also spoke of strings; One which sings and one which shapes. I believe he was referring to the mechanism which guides the lost.’

  ‘The liquids.’ Mickie realised with a start, staring at the dollop of glowing blue. ‘He was talking about the two liquids.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Kalistra said with a smile. ‘The one which sings must refer to the hallucinogen. A lullaby for the soul, perhaps. That leaves the one which shapes’

  The gorgon raised her makeshift spoon. ‘Tell me, what do you think would happen if I were to ingest this liquid?’

  ‘It’d be like drinking the runes.’ Miz-Mag cursed at the realisation. ‘And if this stuff hits the soul like the silver one does…’

  ‘Then it would impart the intent of the runes directly into the soul, likely compelling the recipient to abide by said intent.’ Kalistra finished.

  There was a brief silence as the revelation sunk in.

  ‘One thing though.’ Mickie said slowly, ordering his thoughts. ‘These lost, the ones that maintain the city, they’ve been at it for a while.’

  The others turned the branded man’s way as he continued.

  ‘And when I took a hit of the silver, its effect only lasted a few hours. If the same is true of this stuff, then the lost would need to be on a constant feed of it. I don’t know about you guys, but I haven’t seen anything like that so far.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re right kid. This is a first time I’ve seen the blue.’ Miz-Mag hummed in thought. ‘Maybe we just haven’t seen the mortals getting their hit.’

  ‘A good point, and a reminder that we should not be too hasty in drawing conclusions.’ Kalistra turned the scrap metal in her hands, watching as the liquid shifted within. ‘This will require further investigation. If we trail one of the lost, they may lead us to what we are looking for.’

  ‘Not a bad idea.’ Miz-Mag said. ‘Or we could, you know, try it out and see what happens.’

  The others glanced in the direction the little demon was nodding, right towards the garden’s only lost. Kalistra contemplated the idea, beginning to nod along. Mickie though, was struck with a sudden and rather fierce opposition to the idea.

  ‘No.’ He found himself saying, before really knowing why. As the others turned his way the branded man paused, taking a moment to think through his objections. ‘No. Testing the other drug was one thing. I’d already had some, and you could see that I was fine. This new stuff though, we have no clue what it’s going to do.’

  ‘Yeah, exactly.’ Miz-Mag said, sounding confused. ‘That’s the point of testing it on some lost shmuck.’

  ‘I think.’ Kalistra said softly. ‘Mickie is trying to say that we should not test the drug on the lost because we do not understand it.’

  Mickie shifted his attention to the gorgon, and found that, oddly enough, she was smiling at him.

  ‘Yeah, that’s dead on.’ He sighed, knowing Miz-Mag was not going to like the idea. ‘These lost, they’re helpless. They’ve clearly already had something done to them, something that turned them into slaves. Cramming this shit down their throats on top of that, it just isn’t right.’

  He glanced at the fiend on his shoulder, to find Miz-Mag staring wide eyed at him.

  ‘You’ll torture a demon for information.’ The little demon breathed. ‘But you won’t let some half dead mortal take a sip of happy juice? Are you going soft or something kid?’

  ‘Not soft, it’s just…’ His attention shifted back to the ragged mortal seated on the park bench. Even outside of Hell, Mickie felt he had seen countless just like him. ‘It’s just that I have lines I don’t want to cross.’

  It felt good to say that out loud, affirming in a way. The sort of thing someone who was more than just a hollow shell would say.

  ‘Well then, our dearest moral guide.’ Miz-Mag said, dryly. ‘How would you suggest we test the effects of our newest concoction.’

  Mickie thought about that, although not for very long.

  ‘I could try it.’ He said with a shrug, earning a cough and splutter from the demon on his shoulder.

  ‘You?’ Miz-Mag barked out. ‘What kind of stupid idea is that? What’ll you do if it’s poisonous? Or if you end up stomping around the city scrubbing floors?’

  ‘I don’t think that’ll happen.’ The branded man said. ‘We’re almost certain we know what this drug does, and we only imbued it with some random runes on the floor. It’ll be fine, right?’

  He turned to Kalistra for support. The gorgon however, appeared hesitant. Her hair strands shifted about, glancing between him and the glowing blue liquid.

  ‘I… I don’t know Mickie. While I am certain that this will not do anything so bad as Miz-Mag suggests, I do not think you should ingest it.’

  She said, and Miz-Mag gave a little shout of victory.

  ‘See kid, what I tell you?’

  ‘Instead.’ Kalistra continued. ‘I believe it would be best if I were the one to test the substance.’

  The little fiend stopped short with a grunt, swivelling its head to give Kalistra a look. Across the garden Ziz stirred, having apparently not been quite as asleep as first thought.

  ‘You should not.’

  The primordial said, rising slowly to stomp over.

  ‘I really think I should.’ Kalistra said. ‘I am the one who knows the most about Transcriptions, and I also currently have the most effective ability to heal. If anyone is going to try this substance, then it should be me.’

  ‘What happened to giving to the lost!’ Miz-Mag cried, and was promptly ignored.

  ‘You are not the best at healing.’ Ziz said, its long neck stretching out. ‘I am.’

  Then fast as a snake, the primordial’s head blurred downward. Before any of them could react, it’s hooked beak closed about the metal in Kalistra’s hand, slowing it and the blue liquid whole. There was a moment, an extended silence in which they all watched Ziz tilt its head back and swallow the drug.

  ‘Tastes good.’ The avian declared.

  ‘You… you…’ Kalistra stuttered. ‘I was going to section off a smaller portion…’

  ‘Too late now.’ Miz-Mag muttered, almost as an afterthought. They were all too busy watching Ziz for some kind of reaction. For the most part, the big bird seemed impressed with itself, eyeing them all smugly as they stared in apprehension.

  ‘Hmm. It is oily.’

  The oversized avian said, moments before Kalistra gasped.

  ‘I can feel it, through the bond.’

  Ziz ruffled its feathers in sudden discomfort, almost as if it were trying to shake something loose.

  ‘It is covering me, feels strange.’

  Kalistra, locked in concentration, translated the primordial’s vague mutterings.

  ‘I can sense it, the substance is encircling Ziz’s soul. It’s not quite entrapment, closer to submersion in a liquid.’

  ‘Yes. It wants, it wants me to gather, to pull.’ The bird said, shifting in discomfort. ‘It says to move downwards, to fall and spin and twist. There is something else too, something beyond. If I reach…’

  ‘No Ziz, do not!’ Kalistra cried, but it was too late.

  There came a thrum, and the runes on the floor nearby pulsed a deeper crimson glow. The city shuddered, quaking as if from a shaky breath. Far overhead, attached to the distance ceiling, the lights flickered briefly. Then it was over, Ziz cawing out in alarm, whipping its head back and forth as the world settled around them.

  Mickie and Miz-Mag waited with batted breath for their companions to break the silence. Kalistra seemed utterly stunned, fists clenched and hair writhing. Oddly enough it was Ziz who settled first, projecting a shaky few words into the air.

  ‘I felt it. In the pipes. I felt it.’

  ‘Felt what bud?’ Mickie asked, taking a small step towards the rattled primordial.

  ‘A place of power.’ Kalistra answered, her voice soft with both fear and excitement. ‘There is a place of power here.’

  The gorgon turned empty eye sockets upon Mickie and Miz-Mag.

  ‘And to reach it, we will have to enter the pipes.’

  As if in answer, there came a distant roar, followed by the booming sound of heavy footsteps.