Whatever had happened to damage Jace’s leg was healing. Or at least, the leg was functional again. That didn’t make it hurt any less.

  But they were running out of time, and he could walk, so they made use of it.

  “You are trying to find a scavenger patrol?” Ash demanded. “What is this foolishness? You’ll give us away.”

  “Yes, yes I am,” Jace said. “It’s the only way, and I’m not letting my friends die.”

  He kept his senses as open as he could, and with the help of the Questforger card, he knew he was heading right toward a large patrol. Though his card had incredible range now, his senses told him that there was a patrol directly ahead, and it was ready for them. Which led to his suspicion that the Questforger card prioritized nearby targets.

  He couldn’t exactly ask Lessa to find out, though. Kinfild carried her in a bundle of blankets and bandages. Jace needed both arms free to use his cards, and Ash was their most valuable fighter—not to mention, Jace didn’t exactly trust him yet.

  The halls of the central dungeon complex were taller than most, and like the tenth level, there was an atrium in the very middle, with hallways intersecting it and crust-lifts blasting out to the sides in all directions. The walls had a golden tint, the marble was more the shade of sandstone, and the runes were brassy and bronzy. When they passed automaton corpses, their armour plating was shiny and slightly warmer in hue.

  As for Rallemnon, Jace sensed nothing. That didn’t mean the kyborg Wielder wasn’t veiling himself somehow, or wasn’t hunting them, but he seemed to have a different target in mind: the spear.

  If it’d been a few days, like Kinfild said, then Rallemnon would already have descended. Probably to the next level below.

  When they reached an intersection, Jace held up his hand and pressed his back against the wall. “There’s something nearby.”

  “A large patrol is coming from the left,” said Kinfild. His senses were still more precise.

  “About twenty of them,” Ash confirmed. “Three Wielders among them. One is level forty-three.”

  Jace grimaced. He still had a long way to go with the whole Soul-Circle stuff, but that could come later. They ducked into a corner and sheltered behind a pillar, keeping out of direct sight.

  The group of scavengers marched past, and as soon as they faded down the hallway, Jace followed them. “If they’re not going down,” he whispered, “then they need to be heading back to a camp of some sort.”

  “And you want to sneak in?” Kinfild said softly.

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  Before either of them could argue, Jace broke cover and crept down the hall. He kept himself veiled. If the patrolling scavengers sensed him, they’d be a problem. Kinfild and Ash did the same.

  They trailed behind the scavenger patrol, ducking in and out of alcoves or hiding behind pillars and statues, keeping out of sight the whole time.

  As Jace had realized, Kinfild and Ash had brought him and Lessa down through the eleventh level a few storeys, but now, they followed the scavengers up to a broad room that reminded him of a cafeteria. Regular height ceiling, at least by Luminian standards, but the walls were plain, and there were no statues. Maybe the scavengers had ripped up anything good and sent it back to the surface already.

  Within the area, which was perhaps a hundred paces across and fifty wide, stood a vast array of tents, campfires, and other survival equipment. Electric stoves, starcoal burners, and industrial fans and floodlights. It wasn’t perfect, and the place still reeked of smoke and tar, but it wasn’t as bad as an underground chamber filled with smoke should have been.

  Scavengers in light armour dipped in and out of tents, carrying tools, food, or other equipment Jace couldn’t identify. They slipped through one of the room’s many entrances, and ducked down behind a raggedy nylon tent near the edge of the room. Though the floodlights were bright, they weren’t nearly enough to light the corners, and they made the shadows all the more dark by comparison.

  “Alright…” he whispered. “Healer. Find a healer. Or medic. Or whatever it’s being called here.”

  He triggered the Questforger card once more. It’d been plenty long enough since he’d used it last.

  [Subquest available: Find one (1) Drain-Healer. Reward: None]

  Jace didn’t really understand what that meant, but the word healer was there, and he couldn’t exactly be picky.

  The needle of Aes pointed toward the back of the chamber, to an isolated tent with a broad opening and a tall spire that was chuffing out faintly crimson smoke in spurts. Nothing to identify it as a healer’s place, but then again, he didn’t really know enough to say what a healer’s tent might look like.

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  “I think that’s it,” Jace said softly.

  “I’m not sure if we want to work with that sort of Healer,” Kinfild mumbled.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers,” Jace whispered. “Come on.”

  Ash only sighed.

  They set off across the camp, ducking between tents and only moving when the scavengers’ backs were turned. According to Nomad, there were a few more Wielders in here, but no one who posed a serious threat to them. No one stronger than level forty-five—at least according to Ash.

  They stopped beside the healer’s tent, crouching behind a stack of barrels and out of sight.

  After a few seconds of checking the horizon and making sure no one would spot them sneaking in, Jace slipped around the stack of barrels and ducked into the tent.

  Inside, it had a floor of synthetic rugs, blankets and pillows, a set of fans to circulate air (which didn’t stop it from smelling faintly like formaldehyde), and cots to host injured scavengers. Two of the beds were occupied, and two were empty. At the center of the room, around a blood-red fire, which turned faintly crimson at its tips, were cages.

  One cage held a six-legged beast covered in chitin and beige spikes, which snarled and bashed against the bars, and the other held a cat-sized spider that only twitched every few seconds.

  But they weren’t the only inhabitants. A woman who looked in her mid-twenties (though it was hard to tell with Wielders) flitted between the beds and the cages, her hands glowing red, whispering something that didn’t sound like a noise a human could make. But no matter how hard Jace focussed, he couldn’t make a tag appear above her head.

  At the back of the tent stood two scavenger guards—both around level thirty. As soon as Jace entered the tent, he stopped, his stance wide, staring at the two scavenger guards. Both were Wielders, and a few weeks ago, their power would’ve terrified him, but not so much anymore.

  But he couldn’t use a technique, and neither could he let them. Someone else would sense it. The movement of Aes would break his veil and alert the other scavengers.

  He lunged forward, reaching out, and wrapped his arm around the nearest scavenger’s neck.

  The second scavenger turned to attack Jace, but before he could, Ash sprinted into the tent and locked the second scavenger’s head in a tight hold.

  “Thanks for the assist,” Jace whispered, keeping a wary eye on the healer, whoever she was, and whyever the tag wasn’t showing up. She stared at them curiously, and with a half-amused expression on her face.

  “You are welcome,” Ash replied. He tightened his grip on the scavenger, and the man’s writhing slowed slightly.

  Jace’s scavenger, however, was thrashing wildly, and the hold didn’t seem to be working. Jace wasn’t choking him out very well at all, and though his Resistance kept him on his feet and his Strength stopped the scavenger from breaking his grip, it wasn’t enough.

  “You need to grip tighter,” Ash said. “Are you afraid of hurting him? You are trying to hurt him.”

  Jace narrowed his eyes.

  “Bring your arm up higher and squish a little tighter,” Ash instructed. In a matter of seconds, his own scavenger crumpled, falling unconscious.

  Jace grunted, then followed Ash’s instructions, and after a few seconds of struggle, the scavenger he’d grabbed also collapsed. Jace dropped his arms, panting. It’d shifted a bunch of his bandages, and his injured hand stung worse than anything else he’d ever felt, but he clenched his teeth and breathed heavily to keep himself from making a noise.

  Finally, Kinfild ducked into the tent, carrying Lessa, then stopped, and surveyed the sight with an amused curiosity, just like the healer.

  “What?” Jace asked. “Okay, okay, look.” He turned to the woman, and tried to give a faint smile. “So…uh, you wouldn’t happen to be a healer, would you?”

  Now that he wasn’t busy choking out a scavenger guard, Jace properly took in the sight. She wore relatively standard scavenger garb, though no heavy armour, and her poncho was red with a couple magenta streaks at the bottom.

  But she certainly wasn’t human. She had hair made of feathers—scarlet feathers. It ran halfway down her back, and looked awfully fluffy, though he knew better than to ask. He’d seen her species a few times over the past couple months, but he didn’t know what they were called, so he’d started thinking of them as bird-people.

  “What’s it to you?” she asked. When she was staring at directly Jace, her purple eyes were awfully cold and piercing, and something about them seemed to be tugging on his Vitality, drawing it toward her.

  “Well,” Jace said. “I’m pretty sure you’re the healer we were looking for.”

  As he spoke, Ash zipped up the opening of the tent.

  “For you?” the healer asked. “What if I screamed and called for help?”

  Jace exhaled slowly, then shrugged. “I could use help, but it’s not critical. But…” He tilted his head toward Kinfild. “I have a friend who needs help, and I’d really appreciate it.”

  “What makes you think I’d help you?” she demanded. “You’re clearly not scavengers, and you just attacked them.”

  “Your restraining collar tells a different story,” Ash said.

  Jace raised his eyes curiously. Was that why he couldn’t see her tag?

  “Aye,” she said, then pulled her poncho away from her neck slightly. A simple metal band ran around her neck, covered in runes and other symbols. “Astute of you to notice I’m here against my will, then. But before you blame me for the Draining magic, I only use it on bugs and darklings, and there isn’t much work to be found for a Draining Woman. Still didn’t think the scavengers were going to put me in shackles. They don’t trust a Drain-Healer, much less a woman. Can’t do much more than drain bugs now.”

  Jace drew his Whistling Blade with his left hand, then carefully sliced it off. Both halves of the collar fell unceremoniously to the floor. “As a sign of our goodwill.”

  The healer scoffed, then sprinted toward the tent opening, arms outstretched, but Jace stepped in front of her. “Please.”

  A tag appeared above her head now: [Level 43 Wielder – Soul-Circle Opening – Third Stage.]

  “I could drain you, you know,” she said, raising her hand and pointing her finger at Jace.

  “Please,” Jace said again, “our friend needs help, and you can help her.”

  “Her?” The healer raised her eyebrows, then glanced at Kinfild and the bundle of fabrics. “Put her down on the bed. Now.”